#this post has been sitting in my drafts for months waiting for the second season

[jaggedjot]

Honestly, if any character deserves to go on a hashtag misandrist genocide it is Claudia.

[emeryhiro]

What Daryl and Carol mean to each other

And why France may have been the best thing for Caryl

This idea has been sitting in my drafts for about six months, but now that we're only 9 days away from the Tribeca premiere, I finally decided to flesh it out and post it.

This post can be taken as part two of my previous one on what Carol means to Daryl [here], but it can also be read independently. And just as a disclaimer, this is just my understanding and opinions on Caryl and all the scenes I mention below. So grab a nice cup of your choice beverage and get comfy 'cause I had a lot to say, and this turned out to be a long one.

I want to start by pointing out some moments where Daryl and Carol got to enjoy each other's company and talk in peace.

Yup, that's all of them... a long list of 4...

I didn't realise how rare these moments were until I started looking through season after season. Don't get me wrong; I know there are countless sweet and meaningful moments that they've shared both on screen and off screen (implied), but very few that we've seen without heartbreak, grief, or danger looming over them. And even the moments in the gifs above were still sandwiched between disasters.

I've read and received many questions, such as, "Why have we had to wait all these years and are having to continue to wait for Caryl to be canon?" and "If it was going to happen, it would have happened by now." and I feel like the above gifs answer all of that.

These two have endured unimaginable pain before and after the outbreak, and throughout it all, they have been each other's light, held each other together, helped each other heal from their past, and become the strongest versions of themselves.

However, they have never been allowed to be selfish, to take a moment to think about what they deserve, or to imagine the possibility of accepting the love they want and need; why? Because they have been so busy protecting and making sacrifices for everyone else.

For the past 13 years, they have been content as long as they have each other in their lives, accepting their current circumstances as long as the other seems happy. But during all that time, they also connected in more ways than they had realised.

The major connection I wanted to point out is that their lives depend on one another now (mutually inclusive). Whether knowingly or unknowingly, they are alive at this moment because of each other. I don't mean this just in a 'save their life when they're in danger' way but also as a 'I can't imagine my life existing beyond yours' and 'I can't distinguish between my life and yours' kind of way.

I briefly touched on this in one of my previous posts about Carol [here], and the show, in general, has been a lot more open with us regarding what Carol wants, but here are a couple of more nuanced instances from the later seasons where we see those feelings show from Daryl and Carol's perspectives:

~~~~~~~~

S10 EP3 Ghosts (Daryl)

The first scene I wanted to mentions is when Alpha confronts them about crossing her border. The moment she says, "You have to be punished," and the whisperers reach for their weapons, we see Daryl shifting on his feet as he prepares to move at a moment's notice.

And as soon as Carol talks back to Alpha, calling her words "Bullshit", Daryl is already moving.

He immediately places himself between them to shield Carol in case Alpha decides to attack her.

Then, when Carol snaps and tries to shoot Alpha, Daryl grabs and takes complete hold of her.

He's not just trying to stop her; he's using himself to shield every inch of her from any possible incoming assault from the whisperers.

Once Alpha allows them to leave, he grabs Carol and her bow and arrows without a second of hesitation (leaving behind his own crossbow) and immediately moves Carol away from the situation.

Once again, when everyone is in danger all Daryl can think about is Carol, making sure she's safe and unharmed, with no concern for himself.

I also think it's so beautiful and important to point out here that while all Daryl could think about was shielding Carol, Michonne was also there trying to protect both of them ♡

~~~~~~~~

S10 EP3 Ghosts (Daryl) - Part 2

The second one I want to mention is later in the same episode when Daryl and Michonne rush Carol back to Alexandria/Siddiq for help after she cuts her arm open badly.

We first find Daryl holding onto a column outside to steady himself while he waits to find out if she's okay.

When Siddiq comes out full of hesitation and can't find the words to answer Michone when she asks if Carol is okay, we see a look of pure fear on Daryl's face.

He freezes; he's holding his breath and won't dare move or say anything because he feels like his whole reality is hanging by a thread, and in the moment, the smallest thing or whatever Siddiq is about to say next might make it all fall apart.

~~~~~~~~

S10 EP9 Squeeze (Daryl)

The third moment I wanted to mention is when Carol is hanging off the edge of a rock in the cave, risking her life just so she can try to destroy part of Alpha's horde, but Daryl finds her and is so confused and terrified by what she's doing.

He tries to tell her, to warn her that she's gonna get herself killed if she tries to go through with what she's planning.

Look at how he flinches and instantly loses his breath when her hand slips a little... breaks my heart every time.

When she responds to him by saying, "She killed my boy", Daryl's fear is now also combined with desperation because he realised that he didn't need to warn her about the possibility of getting herself killed; he realised she knew the risk all along and was in such a low place that she was almost welcoming the consequences.

What previously was a tone of alarm in Daryl's voice turns into a whisper, and he's now pleading with her. Without saying the actual words, he's begging her to choose to live again, even if it's just for him.

~~~~~~~~

S10 EP14 Look at the Flowers (Carol)

What Caryl wants is also kind of answered in 10x14, where Carol is having an internal confrontation with herself. Subconsciously, she has chosen and manifested Alpha (who is now dead) as the face and voice of the one confronting her.

Timestamp 19:10 - 20:15

When "Alpha" says to her:

"Being out on your own... you've tried it before. They always pull you back. Always wanting more. Love. Motherhood. Death. But they don't know what you truly want. Admit it. What do you want? Say it..."

Carol responded by saying :

"I want to be alone."

To which "Alpha" says:

"Yeah. That's not it."

So the question here is, if it's not love in general, motherhood, death, or being left alone, then what does Carol actually want?

It's important here to note that Carol already knows the answer to that question. She's only asking herself this question because she hasn't accepted it; she isn't being honest with herself yet.

Timestamp 33:15 - 35:20

While Carol is stuck under the rubble and can't get out as the walker is getting closer to her, "Alpha" taunts her by saying:

"Stop fighting. No matter what you do, you lose people. Sophia, Lizzie, Mika, Henry, Ezekiel... And if you go back, Daryl could be next."

To which Carol responds:

"I could never let that happen."

This internal confrontation with herself and the realization that even when everything else in her world is dark, just having Daryl and making sure he's okay is worth living for and fighting for and that it's not too late for her to start over. The acceptance that that's who/what she truly wants gives her the strength at that moment to fight again, dislocating her shoulder to get free and killing the walker that was about to reach her.

~~~~~~~~

S10 EP16 A Certain Doom (Daryl)

Looking back at 10x01 for a second, Carol asks Daryl to run away with her, but he says no and explains that life in tiny boat cabins is not for him. Then Carol presents the idea of running away on his bike instead, and he's much more enticed by his idea; however, by the end of the episode, they both agree that they can't because they still feel responsible for the people around them and making sure that they're safe against the threat from Alpha. 

Back to 10x16, after Carol went to lead the horde off the cliff, Daryl would have almost been expecting and terrified that she wouldn't come back, that she'd take this "out" and end her own pain in a permanent and self-sacrificial way like she's tried before, but this time, he wouldn't be there to beg her to come back to him and to save her. 

Once again, we find him leaning and steadying himself against a tree, preparing for the worst possible news or, as the episode's title suggests, a certain doom.

And when he sees her again, he can't take his eyes off her.

He doesn't believe his eyes at first; he looks all over her to make sure she's not hurt, but when she speaks, asking him if he's good, he finally breathes again, letting out the breath he's been holding.

The community is safe (for now) since the horde has been dealt with, and his next immediate thought is, "You still got me" and "New Mexico is still out there." He immediately brings back the idea of running away together; why? Because he now knows that this time he got way too close to losing her forever and will not be risking that ever again. He's now ready to leave everything and everyone else he cares about behind, so he'll never risk losing her again. 

He loves her so much that, once again, all else comes second.

When he hugs her, he pulls her in tighter than ever before, making sure he's holding onto as much of her as possible because he needs to know that this is real, that he's actually holding her, that she's right there, unharmed and breathing, and not just a part of a dream of what he wants to see. 

I believe he forgives everything in that instant, including her actions that led to losing Connie, because his pain is not worth causing her any more of it. He will now carry that guilt for himself, taking as much of her burden as possible just to make living a little easier for her. Because he'd rather shoulder all the pain and guilt than lose her, and because he can live with the pain and guilt, but he can't live without her. 

~~~~~~~~

S11 EP24 Rest in Peace (Daryl & Carol)

I believe the events of the season 11 finale forced them to come to a new level of internal acceptance. Seeing the people around them lose the ones they love the most started a spark, and it started to force them to have those internal conversations.

The reality began to sink in for both of them that there had been too many close calls to keep denying themselves what they truly wanted, and It's now more true to them than ever that their tomorrow isn't guaranteed.

We all expected this to be the moment they went for what they'd wanted for so long, but we were wrong; their wounds were just too deep, and their instinct to self-sacrifice was once again too strong.

A year later, we see them once again dedicating their lives to helping others, Carol taking over Hornsby's job and helping put the commonwealth back together, and Daryl setting out to see what's left out there, hoping to find Rick and Michonne and bring them back to their family.

~~~~~~~~

TOWL S01 EP04 What We (Daryl & Carol) - A Parallel

There's a pretty important parallel that I'd like to point out as well. In episode 4 of TOWL, when Micheonne asks Rick what the CRM took from him, Rick responds to her by saying:

"When I got taken, I fought, and I fought, and not just by trying to get away, but by how I would dream. I'd meet up with Carl in my dreams. And that's how I survived in here. Kept me alive... But then I started dreaming of you [Michonne]... and it kept me going... I can't live without you. Without you, I die."

It's important here to note that Rick is speaking to his wife. When he was taken away and at his lowest, he survived because when he went to sleep, he dreamed about Carl (his son) and Michonne (his soulmate) and his happy memories with them.

So what does Daryl dream about when he's taken away and at his lowest? (TWD:DD S01 EP01)

He dreams about Judith (his surrogate daughter) and Carol (his soulmate).

He dreams about Judith telling him that he deserves a happy ending too, and his very next thought is of Carol, seeing her again and being with her again because that's the happy ending he truly wants.

And what does Carol dream about when she's at her lowest in season 10?

She dreams about Henry (her adoptive son) and Daryl (her soulmate)

She dreams about the life she's always wanted, a home, a family and a life with Daryl because that's the happy ending she truly wants.

Also, just a quick mention that even Michonne refers to Rick (her husband) as her friend when speaking to Virgil in TWD 10x08 (TS: 40:00 - 41:20)

~~~~~~~~

So why is TBOC going to be any different? And why was Daryl ending up in France the best thing that could have happened for Caryl?

Because they have finally reached a point where they almost believe they've lost the other, they have been forced to feel the dependence of their existence on the others.

They have never been truly separated before, not to this extent. And what to them was previously only a fear has now become a reality.

When they're reunited, it's going to be with a completely new perspective and total understanding of the extent of their need for one another, and the idea of just having one another in each other's lives will no longer even remotely come close to being sufficient.

I'll elaborate a little...

After all these years, we've seen them constantly save one another and be terrified of losing each other. But no matter what, nothing got them to the point where they felt they needed (more than anything) to confess to the other. So far, everything they have faced during the main show has been different shades of the same thing, and the urgency was never high enough to outweigh their self-doubt and insecurities.

What France has given us is a whole new level of steaks. Where we'll find them in season 2 is on the verge of believing that they'll never be able to see each other again; this, coupled with the fact that they don't even know if the other is even alive, and the fact that the distance and time apart has given them a true taste of how much they need the other, we now have the perfect and unique recipe for something that outweighs their self-doubts and insecurities.

It's the age-old idea of you don't know what you have until it's gone. The difference between:

Watching everyone around them lose the people they love most: they empathise with them, their heart breaks for them, they may even be devastated by that loss, and ultimately, it probably makes them cherish the ones they still have even more.

They, themselves, losing the person they love most: this is something that needs to be experienced to be understood. It's reality shifting, and the pain/loss outweighs anything else.

And now, after experiencing that loss for themselves, by some miracle, they're given another chance with that person... what a way to completely shift someone's priorities and ability to act past insecurities.

~~~~~~~~

To wrap up I wanna go back to Norman's words from the NYCC TBOC press conference:

"[Carol] feels something's wrong. They have that kind of bond, where there's a lot of unspoken things that are said... the bonds that we made in the flagship show are still very strong... [Carol] can take care of herself, of course... but the bond just keeps getting stronger and stronger..."

And David Zabel's words from his interview with Entertainment Weekly (interview link):

"The main focus of season 2 for me was always Daryl and Carol coming back together and what does that mean? And it becomes ultimately a story about how we as people can save each other. She's trying to find him, but in the process of telling that story: How are they ultimately getting to a place where they're kind of saving each other?...showing what's happening inside these characters as people in the most intimate personal way"

Daryl and Carol have loved and cared for each other so profoundly, especially when they couldn't love themselves, even to the point of sacrificing their own happiness to prioritise the others. If that is not the true meaning of soulmates, then I don't know what is. And we all know that some of the greatest loves are routed in the truest friendships.

~~~~~~~~

Thank you to everyone who read through this! I know it was an extra long one, and it could have been even longer, but I've decided to post their moments from 10C separately, as there's a lot more to break down there. I really enjoyed writing this, and I'm so happy/grateful that I have this platform to share these thoughts with you all. I'd love to know your thoughts on the things I've mentioned or missed ♡♡♡

As some of you already know, I'll be attending the Tribeca Premiere for TBOC in 9 days. After that, I'd like to write and share a spoiler-free-ish afterthought for this post, including what I've taken away from episode 1, what was said during the cast panel afterwards, and my thoughts on what's to come for Caryl. If anyone would like to be tagged when that's posted, please let me know.

I'll be posting a more detailed and spoilery analysis of Episode 1 once it's actually released.

[hawkeyefierce]

Hi! My friend and I are getting into hockey and we’re kind of wondering what the vibe on Max Domi is?? I’m kind of seeing mixed messages about him so we were wondering why you like him so we can figure out what his deal is and if we should try to pay attention to him more on the leafs. Thanks!

hi anon!! just wanna say before i get going that i’m in love with this ask and you by extension for asking, and i’m sorry this took me so long!

now on to the propaganda (this is long i’m not sorry)

i’m obligated to preface this by saying i’m hugely biased as a Leafs fan who grew up in Southern Ontario. my dad has always been a pretty big Tie Domi fan, so liking Max just seemed like a natural continuation of that.

baby Max with Mats Sundin, then-captain of the Leafs. he’s just a little guy,,

born March 2nd, 1995, in Winnipeg, Manitoba, one month before Tie was traded (back) to the Leafs, Max spent his childhood in Mississauga, Ontario, roughly half an hour west of Toronto. at the age of 12, following some health complications at a hockey tournament in Detroit, blood work revealed that Max had type 1 diabetes and celiac disease. 

not the end of the world, clearly, but a pretty significant shock for a kid with aspirations of greatness. of course, he was able to manage it, with time, and when i finally read his book i’ll tell y’all more about it i promise.

these pictures make me emotional,, a couple of Domis, a couple of decades apart,,, except Max looks about 200% cuntier

anyway

scored a hatty in his OHL debut (slay). won consecutive OHL championships with the London Knights in 2012 and 2013 (double slay). selected 12th overall by the Phoenix (now Arizona) Coyotes, and signed a three year ELC (!). won gold with Team Canada at the 2015 WJC, and was named the tournament’s best forward (huge W). traded to the Montréal Canadiens in 2018, to the Columbus Blue Jackets in 2020, to the Carolina Hurricanes (via the Florida Panthers) at the trade deadline of March 31st 2022, to the Chicago Blackhawks in July of 2022, to the Dallas Stars in March 2023, and finally signed as a free agent to our beloved Toronto Maple Leafs on July 2nd 2023. he’s been on seven different NHL teams since he was drafted. 

sadly, as i’ve only been a hockey fan for one calendar year, i cannot provide much insight into his time with NHL teams other than the Leafs. i have ordered and am waiting for his book to come in so i can better rotate him in my mind, but i encourage anyone who knows more about his other teams’ lore to add to this post or send me what you know, so i can share it with the world. (pls i wanna know everything about him ever)

what i can say is that him and Mitch Marner were teammates on the London Knights for two seasons, (13-14 and 14-15), the second of which saw Max as captain and Mitch as an alternate captain. the season after, Mitch was named captain in Max’s stead. seeing them back together on the Leafs brings joy to my little London Knights heart.

now back to him as a Leaf. 

the current Leafs points leaders, as of December 30th, are as follows:

William Nylander - 48P (17G 31A)

Auston Matthews - 44P (29G 15A)

Mitch Marner - 38P (14G 24A)

John Tavares - 31P (11G 20A)

Morgan Rielly - 27P (4G 23A) 

Max Domi - 21P (3G 18A)

the first five of these are pretty much to be expected, but there’s my close good friend Max Domi right there too :) he’s doing his part, and even if he’s not the biggest scorer, assists are just as important and valuable :) if i have to kill y’all with positivity for this i will :) i love him dearly :)

also, he currently sits at 389 career points, and he’s nowhere near done, while Tie Domi earned 245 points in his entire career of 1020 games. nobody can say shit to me about him not living up to his dad’s legacy (Note: Tie also sits at third in NHL history for penalty minutes with 3515, but that’s a stat nobody will ever surpass. ever. the current PIM leader in the NHL is Corey Perry, and he only has 1392.)

and now i’m not about to sit here and pretend i know how to quantify the skills of an NHL player, let alone describe them in great detail. i do not. however, what i do know is that i love watching him play and make plays. in my eyes, he is a good player, and this is the Max Domi Propaganda Blog so if you want something less biased i can’t help you, sorry :’)

this love began in a preseason game against the Habs, on Oct 2nd. his first game as a Leaf in Toronto, he scores a tip-in against his former team, and he shrugs it off like NBD. for those of you who were following me at the time, you know i was not normal about it then and i am not normal about it now. i think about that celly every goddamn day. 

much to my great sorrow, they Leafed this game up and lost in OT 5-4. but either way, this was the moment that definitively kicked off the Rick eastoncowan Domishka era. 

and the only time Max ever seems to get a scoring chance, it’s either on a breakaway or from a spot that would have been absolutely NASTY if it went in. my mans only wants sexy goals, which is a stance i respect immensely. 

his first regular season goal… didn’t give him any points. it was beautiful, and a game winner, but since it happened in a shootout, it didn’t count towards his points totals. personally, i think this is bullshit, but now is neither the time nor the place for me to get into my issues with some of the NHL’s rules. (Nov 10, 2023, Flames @ Leafs)

Domishka bardownski SO winner,,, you were so beautiful and so unappreciated but i will never forget you </3

now.

Max’s first real goal as a Leaf.

for those of you who followed me at the time, you may recall this post:

a post that the Hockey Gods took to heart

and obviously i followed through. what do you think i am, some kind of quitter?

and, again, unfortunately, we Leafed that one up, too. we lost it in OT again, so still no Domi belt pic for Rick :(

now i’m not going to go back and gif all 18 of his assists, because i don’t think y’all care quite that much about Visual Proof of all of them. for your convenience, though, i did go back and track down whose goals he had assisted on, and the results aren’t super surprising IMO

Calle Järnkrok, Nick Robertson (assisted on 5 each)

Matthew Knies (assisted on 4)

William Nylander, Morgan Rielly, Mitch Marner, Timothy Liljegren (assisted on 1 each)

anyway, now for what is quite possibly my favourite game that i didn’t actually get to watch live.

December 16, 2023, Penguins @ Leafs, a decisive 7-0 victory.

it was also a 3 point night for Max, two of which helped to complete Matthew Knies’ Gordie Howe hat trick, the first since Daniel Winnik in 2015. but a goal and an assist are only two parts of it, the third being a fight. a fight which Knies initiated against John Ludvig after he knocked out yet another of Max’s front teeth with his stick. a fight which was Knies’ first ever. i’m still mad i didn’t see this happen live, but i’ve rewatched the game in its entirety twice, and the highlights too many times to count. this game sparked my undying love for the 23-11-16 line, which is a line i still pray keefe will bring back.

and so, we have a goal and a fight, and we have an assist to finish off the hat trick, and none of it would have happened without Max :)

and speaking of fights, Max has had a couple of em himself in his time as a Leaf so far. granted, if you ask hockeyfights dot com, he didn’t win either of them, but that’s not what matters. what matters is that he looked beautiful doing it, whether it was against Ian Cole (VAN) or Sam Bennett (FLA), especially with the fun added bonus of him flexing his full head of hair at Bennett’s bald dome. as an aside, i fucking hate Sam Bennett, so Max trying to fight him was… well it made me feel things. all i’m gonna say.

max’s third goal was also gorgeous. stunning. amazing. another beautiful bardown, the sound of which lives on in my dreams.

this is getting far longer than it really needs to be, so i’ll take a step back and give you my true, honest thoughts.

Max Domi has been a very helpful player for the Leafs since he got here. he obviously has the drive to play here and to play well here, and 21 points is nothing to be ashamed of. you know who else has 21 points as of me writing this? Alex Ovechkin. and now i’m not saying they are players of the same caliber, but Max is 6th on the Leafs in points, and Ovi is tied for first on the Caps. 21 points is still 21 points, no matter where in the standings someone is. Max was born to be a Leaf, and nothing makes me happier than to see him here and thriving on the team he’s loved since he was a kid. he takes shots, blocks shots, defends his boys and is defended right back in turn. 

and i would not be Rick eastoncowan if i didn’t mention that i think he is hot. like stupid hot. especially without his teeth. fuck, the heart wants what the heart wants, and damn if my heart doesn’t want this tiny toothless idiot. 

[simpingandshitposting]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤

Two ppl actually tagged me in this so thank you @malewifetouya and @happyely 🖤🖤🖤

Sadly some of my most favorite projects are ones that are still sitting in my drafts unfinished 😭 but out of all the ones I've posted these are the ones I'm most proud of <3

"Come Home" — Deku:

I don't even know if this would be considered a fic?? Cuz honestly this was such a short little thing that I wrote in under like 15 minutes 😭 probably the shortest amount of time it's taken me to ever write literally anything. But it was after I watched S6 E136 and literally that night I had a dream where this whole scene was played out in my head. And it just felt so dramatic in the right ways and just raw emotion that I had to write it down. And it's STILL my most liked post on this entire blog😭 but honestly understandable bc sometimes I go back and read it and I'm just like "damn wait I wrote that????" lmfaoo

"Only for you, Toshi" — Shinsou:

Completely opposite from the last one, this is actually the longest thing I've ever written. (that's posted anyway, there's a few longer still in my drafts) I just feel like Shinsou doesn't get enough love but he definitely deserves it😭❤️ all my friends that read it said they really enjoyed it and I'm just really happy with how it came out after working on it for a couple weeks, and that not touching it for a few months and then coming back to it only to finish it in like 2 days lmao

"Attention" — Dabi:

Now this wouldn't be a post about my fics if I didn't include something for my absolute favorite character in the entire show🖤 this fic was very self indulgent bc I'm such a brat🤭 and I'm convinced that Dabi is the king of brat taming. Fun fact, the outfit I described is something I literally own in my closet 😂

"Secrets" — BakuDeku x reader [UNFINISHED]:

This is a multi-part series I'm co-writing with my bsf @haru-x-ren on a joint account we made. (@bunny-x-haru if you'd like to follow) it's currently still a work in progress with only a few parts released, but it is a continuation of a 2 part fic I wrote when I first started called "You're the Only Thing That Makes Sense" — Bakugo So I do recommend reading this one first before Secrets for context and background info. I feel like you can really see my growth in writing from then to now, cuz that was like literally the second thing I ever posted lol. And Haru was literally my biggest fan bc he's the one that got me into writing fanfic<3 so after he read it, he had this absolutely BRILLIANT idea (spoiler) to take the scene I wrote where bakugo and deku were caught fighting after school hours (similar to that scene from season....2? When Bakugo learned about OFA) and turn it into a BakuDeku love triangle and I was honestly obsessed with the idea

And lastly

"For Your Eyes Only" — Dabi:

Another one for my fav<3 this one was for his birthday and is very nasty🤭 also with a little bit of fluff at the end bc I am indeed a hopeless romantic with no romance🥲 also, the cover photo is most definitely the reaction I was imagining when he walks into the room lmao

Side Note:

I know it's been a while since I've posted any writing and I am so sorry 😭 I guess I've just been in a little bit of a funk when it comes to my creativity lately. I mean I've got plenty, and I do mean PLENTY of ideas written down, but Im having a hard time executing them and turning them into something I can post. But I promise I'll get back to posting as soon as I can and I'm really sorry to everyone who has been waiting for stuff😭 I appreciate your patience❤️

Here's 5 other writers I recommend<3

@cathwritestragediesnotsins @aquadenks @kemakoshume @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic + any other writers who'd like to make ur own posts<3

[tiffanylamps]

Tag game to better know you

Thank you @katierosefun and @ettelwenailinon for tagging me! You're both so sweet to think of me for this :) what book are you currently reading? i suck at sticking to books, but at the moment, I'm making my way through Vermeer by Norbert Schneider. Vermeer is one of my favourite artists, so I enjoy reading about his work. (The Milkmaid is my favourite painting of his).

what’s your favorite movie you saw in theaters this year? i don't thiiiiiiink I've been to the cinema this year. But my favourite film I've seen this year is The Merciless (2017).

what do you usually wear? during the hotter months, it'll be shorts and tank top, but only if I'm at home. Outdoors, I tend to wear high neck tops, trousers, skirts, dresses, and a jacket (if it's not too hot). I much prefer cooler months because I like to hide behind an oversized jacket/coat lol. Basically, smart casual, nothing short or too low cut.

how tall are you? 5'10", baby!!! Sometimes a bit shorter, sometimes taller. It depends on... idk... stuff. things.

what’s your star sign? do you share a birthday with a celebrity or a historical event? i'm an Aries (with a Leo sun and Gemini rising 🙃🙃). I share my birthday with Bette Davis and Hayley Atwell, so not too bad. Ah! I also share my birthday with my granddad. As for historical events, it mainly involves historical figures returning home, the Mayflower returning to England, Europeans discovering Easter Island- things of that nature. But an actual cool one is that the first performance of Beethoven's 2nd Symphony in D took place in 1803 on me birthday

do you go by your name or a nickname? my nickname. I HATED my name when I was a child and I wouldn't let anyone refer me to do it. The only person who has consistently called me by my actual name is my sister. I'm now over the reasons why I didn't like it back then. My only gripe with it now is that it sounds very similar to a more popular name, so people mishear my name all the time.

did you grow up to become what you wanted to be when you were a child? nahhh. When I was about 3 or 4, my sights were on becoming a dog in my future... I am yet to figure that one out without putting on a fursuit or committing crimes against god, man, science, and one's own good taste.

are you in a relationship? if not, who is your crush if you have one? i am. it's mine and my boyfriend's 9-year anniversary at the end of the month. i do have many crushes, which are mainly for every pretty woman i see lol

what’s something you’re good at vs something you’re bad at? i think i'm pretty good at analysing and dissecting things that interest me, it can be a piece of media or a topic of debate/conversation. i am bad at maaaaaany things, one of them is being a friend to myself

dogs or cats? both, duh!! i have a cat at the moment, but i do wish to have a dog in future (and maybe 3 cats in total lol)

if  you draw/write, or create in any way, what’s your favorite  picture/favorite line/favorite etc. from something you created this  year? probably the entire second chapter to my vampire fic. yeah, sorry, i can't pick out a particular line, i like the whole chapter ngl

what is something that you’d like to create content for? i'd like to finish my beyond evil projects 😭 and maybe write something for the merciless. (i do have gifs for the merciless that are just sitting in my drafts, waiting for me to feel confident enough to post them lol)

what’s something you’re currently obsessed with? playing the sims 4 and listening to the rotten mango podcast as i play. that's how i spend most of my evenings lol

what’s something you were excited about that turned out to be disappointing this year? jfc i was about to say something so emo. i'll go with more light-hearted examples instead. uhm, the f1 drivers' and constructor's championship standings (it's not over yet, but it's pretty obvious who is going to win 😒). the new taylor swift + hayley williams song. the final season of ted lasso (i love that show, but the ending was a bit naff).

what’s a hidden talent of yours? hm, it's too rude for tumblr

are you religious? nope! i grew up as a jehovah witness in a pretty strict household. although now that i'm older and i look into other people's experiences within that cult, i can see that i got lucky with my parents. they let us kids do things that were against the rules, but that still didn't stop me from sustaining a bit of religious trauma and internalised homophobia 😤 i'm still salty about my religious upbringing.

what’s something you wish to have at this moment? money, direction, a different place to live (preferably nicer/bigger), and for my cat's x-rays and blood work not to come back with anything too serious

anyway, i hope my answers weren't too boring haha. much love! no pressure tags: @l-tyrell @loisroo @hanjuwonsupporter @sensazioneultra

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Don’t Go Breaking My Heart | Charlie Gillespie

Requested by anonymous: Hi! Could you possibly do a Charlie x reader fic where they are filming season 2 & there is a new character (fashion expert/can see ghost/a little bit of enemies with Luke at first) but off screen they are very close (always hanging out/on ig posts & stories/dance partners/they sing karaoke/adventure) & the whole cast likes to tease them about it but they deny any feelings however they are about to film a very important scene that involves their characters & might change everything between them.

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x reader

Warnings: fluff

Words: 2,789

Season 2. Finally Season 2. Everyone had been hoping, wishing, praying for a season 2 of Julie and The Phantoms, and after months of waiting, Netflix finally picked it up for a second season. After those months, the actors had just to wait a little while longer while the crew wrote up the first drafts of scripts and made it perfectly save for the actors to do their work. Once all of that’s ready and they’re good to go, the cast finally reunite again in Vancouver. They even meet some new cast members. Like you. You had auditioned for the role of Daniela Ramos, Julie’s cousin and Victoria’s daughter, and got it pretty much straight away. Daniela is a fashion student at a High School in Melrose Hill and Julie asks her for some help with costumes for her next gig with her band. To Julie’s surprise, Daniela can actually see the boys, even when they’re not playing, which causes for a lot of trouble in the band and family, especially between Julie and Luke. This is your first big role on the small screen and you’re the most excited you’ve ever been. You met the other cast members at the summer bootcamp before the filming process would start, and though almost everything had to be done with a face mask covering half of everyone’s face, it still was a lot of fun getting to meet everyone and spend the most fun summer ever. Every day, you grew closer and closer to everyone on set, and soon became best friends with Madi, Jadah, Savannah and Tori, doing plenty of sleepovers. Besides the girls, you also grew closer to Charlie, Owen and Jeremy, but mostly Charlie. For some reason, the two of you just clicked instantly. You have the same humor, the same taste of adventure, the same passions and dreams. You, Charlie and Owen even rented a place together to live in for the time being in Vancouver. You got even closer during filming, especially since you and Charlie have a lot of scenes together. “Oh my God, Luke, you’re so annoying!” you yell at him when the two of you are in the garage, taping a scene. It had taken you about ten takes and you still couldn’t help but giggle at the shocked face he pulled every time. “If I’m so annoying, Dani, why do you keep coming back?!” The angry face he pulls resembles that of an angry kitten, which just makes you crack up again. “God dammit, Y/N!” Charlie laughs now too as Kenny yells “Cut!” “Sorry! Sorry, guys! I promise I’m a real actor!” You hold your hands up in defense, then cough to get ready for another take. This time around, you could finally manage to get through it without laughing. “Yes!” Charlie exclaims when Kenny yells “Cut!” again. He holds his hand up for a high five, which you giddily give him. “Do you need any more takes, Kenny?” he asks the man himself. “Nope, you’re good! You can go on your break now!” he pats Charlie’s shoulder. “Nice job, guys!” “Thanks, Kenny,” you say, the smile growing on your face. “I need food, Gillespie,” you tell your best friend, linking your arm with his. “Let’s go get food!” The two of you head down to catering and sit down at a table with a plate full of food. “What are we doing tonight?” he then asks before taking a bite of food. You swallow your bite of food and take a sip from your drink. “Don’t you have a night shoot tonight?” you ask, remembering him saying something about a late call. “No, that’s tomorrow, after our dance rehearsal,” he replies after swallowing the food. “Oh! Okay!” You start thinking of things to do, “We could go to karaoke? Bring the others maybe?” He raises his eyebrows, looking at you questionably. “I’ve always loved karaoke,” you shrug with a giggle. “Yeah, okay!” Charlie nods his head agreeingly. “Karaoke it is!” The two of you smile up at each other, teeth showing, both of you glowing. “What are you love birds discussing?” Owen asks when he joins them, his voice muffled from the mask covering his face. He pulls it down to under his chin as he and Jeremy join the two at the table. “We’re thinking about going to karaoke tonight with the whole team!” you tell them, completely ignoring the ‘love birds’. “Ooh, fun!” Owen exclaims with a smile that nearly reaches his ears. “Yeah, we’ll leave after shooting the last scene tonight,” Charlie suggests, looking at you for confirmation. You nod your head agreeingly. That night, you and the rest of the cast head to the nearest karaoke place you know. You’ve linked arms with Savannah and Tori, giggling through the night, trying to keep your balance on your heeled boots. Meanwhile, without you realizing, Charlie has been keeping his eyes on you the whole way there. He finds it adorable how your giggle floats through the night air and your hips bump against the other girls’. He couldn’t lie, you had easily become the light in his life. “So, what song shall we begin with?” you ask the gang as you settle into the booth. “Pick the first one on the list,” Jeremy replies when no one else does. You nod your head curtly and press play on the first song, which is Living on a Prayer by Bon Jovi. You can already tell after that first song; tonight is going to be a fun night. You sing a couple of songs with the girls, there are many group numbers, and you even sing one with your roommates. After singing with Owen and Charlie, the latter points at you. “We’re going to sing together now!” he exclaims excitedly before turning around and picking a song for you to sing. When he’s picked one, he grabs your hand to pull you closer towards him. You blink a couple of times, unable to process what’s happening right now. The opening notes to Don’t Go Breaking My Heart by Elton John and Kiki Dee chime through the booth. You glance over at Savannah and Tori, who offer you an encouraging smile. Then you look at Jadah and Madison, but they’re too busy giggling and whispering, and it makes you wonder if that’s about you and Charlie. Your eyes dart over to the boys – Jeremy, Owen and Sacha – who just offer you suggestive smiles and eyebrow-wiggles. Charlie’s voice captures your attention again, and you turn to him. “I couldn’t if I tried,” you sing back to him. The encouraging smile on Charlie’s face calms you down a little up to the point where it almost seems like the two of you are the only people in the room. You have no clue what is happening or why it’s happening. All you know is that you’ve wanted it to happen sooner. Though you wouldn’t ever admit that to anyone. It’s the way he looks at you and the way he makes you feel like you’re the only person on this planet that matters. It’s been the way he’d looked at you since that first day of meeting him. “I won't go breaking your heart,” you sing the very last line to him ever so softly, not even looking at the screen anymore, but instead, looking into his eyes. “Don't go breaking my heart,” he sings back. The song ends and you both lower your microphones, staring into each other’s eyes. If it wasn’t for the rest of the cast breaking out into cheers and applause, you would’ve kissed him then and there. But it startles you, and you step away from him upon realizing how close you are and how that must look to the others. “So, when’s the wedding?” Madison asks teasingly, which makes the others laugh, and you blush. After that night at karaoke, the two of you had silently agreed to forget anything ever happened. Savannah said you were in denial, but you believed you weren’t. You told her it was just the atmosphere in the air that night, the both of you had consumed a little bit of alcohol and it might’ve just been that. No one stopped teasing you though. On every possible occasion, they’d ask you if you’d kissed him yet, or when your next date it, or started singing Don’t Go Breaking My Heart randomly. You just shook it off every time, finding it amusing how consumed the cast was with this ‘relationship’ you had with Charlie. There was nothing more going on than just a really, really tight friendship. Until the dance scene happened. Your character, Dani, was supposed to go to a school dance with her crush, but she was nervous because she had never slow danced with anyone before. When she tells Luke, he insisted on teaching her, saying he’d gone to plenty of school dances back in ’94 and ’95 before he died. You and Charlie know this choreography by heart, you’ve been doing it for weeks on end at bootcamp and during rehearsals. It had always just been fun and games, the two of you being immaculate dancers and bouncing off of each other so well because of your tight friendship. “I could teach you?” Charlie says as Luke, stepping closer to you. You raise your eyebrows at him. “I’ve gone to numerous dances in my days, Dani…” One corner of his mouth curls up into a teasing smirk. “Unless you want to embarrass yourself in front of… Jake.” He emphasizes the name of your fictional crush, to which you react with wide eyes and a blush spreading on your cheeks. “Come on, Dani!” He reaches out for your hand, which you place hesitantly in his. Dani being able to see ghosts, is also able to make them corporeal. The lights on set dim a little, except for one spot on the pair in the middle of the studio, and then the music starts playing through the speakers. Charlie starts singing the song they’d learned at bootcamp, one the cast wrote together during the quarantine. The atmosphere in the studio has suddenly become really intense. You can feel the butterflies erupting in your stomach as the man in front of you sings to you, mere inches away from each other as he leads you in this beautiful dance Paul Becker and Tori Caro choreographed for you. Just like at the karaoke booth, it feels like the two of you are the only people on set. Just you and him. You and Charlie. You and your best friend. There’s no denying you have feeling for him anymore. You knew you did, you just told yourself it wasn’t a good idea and suppressed those feelings, pushing them down. It worked for a while. Until now. “Cut!” Kenny yells after your scene. You step away from Charlie, glancing down at the floor as you try your hardest to hide your flustered face. “That was perfect, guys! It really looks like the two of you were in love!” he claps his hands in excitement, then tells them to do it again. After four takes of the dance, Kenny tells you to go and take a break. Without saying another word to Charlie, you rush off set and towards your trailer where you sit down on a chair, trying to calm your breathing. Charlie might not like you the way you like him. Admitting to these feelings might just ruin everything the two of you have. With this in mind, you grab your phone and text Savannah, asking her to come over to your trailer. Maybe she could help you. “Are you okay?” she asks when she enters and finds you staring at the ceiling. “No…” you reply and take a deep breath, “I think I’m in love with my best friend?” “Oh, sweetie…” Savannah sighs, and pulls you up to take you in a hug, “I know…” You pull her away again to face her properly. “What do you mean ‘you know’?” “Everybody knows,” she starts, “The two of you have been inseparable since the day you met, and everyone can see the way you look at each other. Plus, your duet the other night was a little intense for it to be a platonic one.” She chuckles, and you can’t help but chuckle too. She then grabs her phone from her back pocket, opening Instagram. “You know fans have caught on too, right?” She shows you the comments on some of Charlie’s pictures on his account. One picture is of the two of you, napping in Julie’s bed on set, cuddled up. He even posted pictures from your hikes on your days off. All of them are bombarded with comments from fans saying, ‘I ship it!’ or ‘Y/S/N’. Sav then opens her dm’s which are flooded with fans asking if you and Charlie are dating yet, and how the two of them are so in love with each other. “Charlie isn’t in love with me?” you deny, not believing one bit about it. “He is, though…” This does not come from Savannah’s mouth. Your eyes widen when you recognize the voice, and peek behind Savannah to find your best friend standing at your open trailer door. “Sav, can you give us a minute?” he asks the younger girl. “More than a minute,” she chirps, offering you a wink before leaving the trailer. Charlie steps in completely and moves until he’s in front of you. He takes your hands in his, and chuckles at your overwhelmed and confused expression. “Are you okay?” he asks, that beautiful smile of his persistent on his face. “Y—yeah? No? I’m not sure?” you sigh, trying to get your thoughts in order. “Charlie, wha—?” “Can I talk? I’ve been going over this conversation in my mind a billion times, and if I don’t say it now, I think I’m going to forget what I’m supposed to say…” You nod your head in response. “Y/N, I’ve been in love with you since the very first time I saw you walking in at bootcamp. You looked adorable with your little nervous smile and your polite hellos to everybody. I knew from that moment on that I wanted to get to know you better, and that I wanted to become more than just friends…I didn’t think you’d feel the same way, so I told myself that it was okay if we’d just stay friends. Especially since your character kind of hates mine and you bring Dani to life so convincingly, that I was almost sure you hated me too,” you chuckle at that, “But I can’t hide it anymore, Y/N. I am so embarrassingly in love with you that I could’ve kissed you after that scene we just did and that I could kiss you right now even though I’m—” before he can finish his sentence, you lean up and crash your lips onto his, your hands flying into his hair. He’s a little startled at first, but quickly melts into the kiss and presses you closer to him. “I am so embarrassingly in love with you too, Charlie,” you whisper when you pull away, pressing your forehead against his. “They’re going to be so relieved,” you tell him with a chuckle. He frowns his eyebrows at you. “Who?” he asks. You take his hand in yours and lead him towards the door of your trailer, pushing it open and making it bump against whoever was closest to the door. All of your cast mates scramble, trying to act natural while Owen rubs his forehead since he was the one that got a door in his face. “Ah, them!” Charlie chuckles. “Thanks for the door in my face, guys,” Owen says disgruntled. “That’s on you, buddy,” you tell him with a grin. “Don’t you guys have a scene to shoot or something?” Their eyes widen at the realization and, after yelling at the two how happy they are for them, rush to set in a hurry. “So, where were we?” Charlie turns back to you when everyone’s gone. “Don’t you have a scene with them?” “Shit!” he grumbles and jumps off the small steps in front of the trailer. He starts running towards set but turns around almost immediately to you and kisses your lips quickly, but sweetly, and then runs off. You watch him with an amused smile on your face. There was nothing to be afraid about after all and nothing changed between you two. You were still the best of friends, just friends that kiss and are in love with each other. But both of you happy.

Taglist: @hannahhistorian92​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @thequirkybookaholic​ @parkeret​​ @lukeys-giggle​ @gingerxarmy​ @lovesanimals​

[ffwriterbts]

Lunar- BTS Werewolf AU Part 2

AN: As I’ve said before, if slowburn BTS werewolf AUs that have springlings of angst, smut, and fluff, this is the story for you! Other than that, please leave a like or comment so I know you’re enjoying the story!! I’m also looking for a beta reader or two for this story, if you’re interested in that! Just shoot me a message or leave a comment and I’ll get in touch!

Word Count: 2455

Warnings: None

Posted: 12 Dec 2020

Masterlist 

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Eventually YN fell asleep, but she couldn’t remember when. When she woke up, however, she was laying down, with the wolf’s massive head resting on her stomach. Absently, she strokes the soft fur around his ears, sighing and curling into the blanket. She can’t help but love the feeling of it between her fingers, smiling to herself as she thinks semi-clearly about the events of the night for the first time. 

YN is completely shocked by the events thinking about them now. This giant wolf not only understands her, but he talks back. He was comfortable in her home, the doors were big enough to take him in easily, and he was oddly sweet, in making her finish the chicken. And to top it all off, he was severely injured! Taking a quick glance at the bandages, YN has a passing wonder as to how much healing the wolf had done overnight. 

Quite suddenly, the wolf lets out a short growl, and YN jumps. The massive head lifts, looking her in the eye, her hand still tangled in the fur behind his ears. It seems like forever that the two stare at each other, eyes locked, but it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. 

He breaks the intense eye contact, turning his great head and yawning before standing. YN watches in awe as the wolf stretches, careful of his injury, before he turns back to look at her expectantly. 

‘Eat?’ 

The voice, low and clear and much less pained, startles the girl into motion. 

“Yes of course, let me make you some meat. How’s beef sound? I’ve still got a lot of that in the fridge.” YN stands, quickly clearing the blankets and pillow from the ground. Hearing no clear objections, YN heads into the kitchen, ready to prepare enough food to feed an army. 

She doesn’t pay too much attention to where the wolf is or what he is doing, but she can feel his eyes following her from one place to the other, and she can feel the draft from the door that he had nudged open. Quietly, she explains what she’s doing to the wolf, wanting him to be comfortable. 

She couldn’t have explained why she felt the need to tell the wolf everything she was doing, but for some reason she felt that it was important that this wolf trusted her. 

It is because of this that YN is in the middle of explaining why she prefers to use one seasoning brand over the other when the wolf lets out an ear-shatteringly loud howl. She flinches so hard she almost spills the cooking meat, hands flying to cover her sensitive ears as she whips around to find where the wolf is and what he’s doing. 

The great wolf, his beautiful black coat shining in the morning light, is standing just outside her back door, eyes gliding over the trees as he lets out another howl, his face turning up to the sky. He looks like he is waiting for a response, and YN can tell that he got one when his head snaps sharply to the left of the small path YN loved to take. 

Quite suddenly, the wolf turns around, padding back into the house and partially shutting the door behind him. He leaves enough room that he could stick his nose or paw into the crack and open it if he needed to, giving himself an out. YN lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding when the wolf returns to lazily lying in a patch of sun in the kitchen, his attention fully on YN and her movements while she makes the food. For whatever reason, she didn’t want the wolf to leave just yet. 

                                                           ~~~

The rest of the morning and the afternoon go well, with no hitches or startles. YN quickly falls into the habit of telling the wolf all the things she’s doing, not wanting him to be startled by anything she’s doing, and the wolf just watches her, not reacting much to what she does, and instead occasionally bumping his head into her hand for a light scratch behind the ears. 

When YN changed his bandage after they ate, she was shocked to see how much he had healed. While the wound was still clearly very tender, it looked like it had been healing for weeks or months instead of just a few hours. YN shook it off, deciding that it was just some strange ability this even stranger wolf had. It had been shown to her clearly before this point that he was special in more ways than one, so why not have accelerated healing? 

After the bandages were changed, and YN told the wolf just how well he was healing, the pair went back into the living area. YN took a seat on the lovely leather couch her uncle had left her, taking her usual seat and telling the wolf that he could come up if he wanted and was able. With a small noise that YN couldn’t place, the wolf clambered onto the sofa, laying his great head in her lap again. 

Without a second thought, YN turns on the TV and absently begins to stroke the fur around the wolf’s ears, relaxing at the repetitive motion and mindless noise. Together, they sit like that for a few hours, both of them resting and healing and mulling over the events that had happened to both of them. 

                                                             ~~~

There they stayed, for a long while, both half asleep and mulling over the events of the past 24 hours. YN was slowly coming to terms with everything that had been happening around her, with all of the weird things this strange, inky wolf could do. Absently, she wondered what else the wolf could do, and if the fanciful bedtime stories her uncle used to tell her were actually true. 

The wolf seemed to be resting peacefully, seemingly completely unaware of the turmoil swirling around in YN’s head. The wolf was just waiting, wondering when the rest of his pack would get there, and what the determination about YN would be. He knew that, despite his growing fondness for the strange human, if the rest of the pack didn’t share his liking for her, he would be forced to do things he would rather not do. 

When the door bursts open, YN might as well have jumped completely out of her skin. When before there was relative silence and peace, the room now had an unknown number of bodies snarling and pawing around. YN was understandably terrified, not having any idea as to what was going on or how that would affect her. 

The black wolf that she had been sharing her home with for the past day rose to his feet, eyeing up the other wolves that had entered the room. YN could feel the tension as the black wolf snarled, snapping as the other wolves did the same. All she could think about were the sharp, gleaming teeth and huge bodies around her in a way that was almost suffocating. 

Fear was rolling off the girl in waves, to the point that the wolves all were put on edge, looking for a threat deserving of that great amount of terror. 

It takes a couple minutes, but eventually all the bodies in the room calm down. YN gets off the couch and heads towards the kitchen, giving herself the illusion of an escape that puts her mind at ease. At this point, she is able to see that a  beautiful grey wolf and two light brown wolves have joined the black wolf she had opened her home to. 

Her living area is filled with the sounds of the wolves “talking” to each other, which YN decides not to break until there is a reason to. 

‘Who are you?’

Once again, the voice is directly in YN’s head, but this time it isn’t the black wolf. It seems to be coming from the grey wolf, but YN couldn’t be sure of that. 

“I’m YN, I moved in a few months ago. My uncle left me the house when he passed.” She answers simply, eyes flitting between the new wolves as “her” wolf comes to stand beside her. There seems to be some sort of silent communication going on between them that YN isn’t privy to, though she feels that it’s important for some reason she can’t place her finger on. 

‘Niece? Good.’ 

The same voice is in her head, and the fierce look in the eyes of the wolves fades into a softer, more general one. YN is confused by the statement, and the actions, remaining on edge, awkwardly shifting on her feet. 

“So, uh, do you guys want some of the beef I made earlier? I don’t know how far you guys have gone or have yet to go but food’s always a good idea, right?” YN can feel her ears burning with an unknown embarrassment, as she looks between all of the wolves before her. 

One of the light brown wolves yelps and heads towards YN, who puts her hands up on instinct, fear rising in her chest that she was going to be the one on the menu. Instead of attacking her through, the massive animal licks her palms, yelping some more as the word ‘eat’ is exclaimed into her mind. 

Letting out a little giggle and petting the massive head before her, YN is put more at ease, smiling as she turns and walks into the kitchen properly. 

“Well, I’m not quite sure how I’ll do this, because I only have one of these big bowls and there are four of you here, but I’ll figure it out.” YN muses to herself, again telling the wolves everything she’s doing so they don’t think she’s up to something, completely unaware of the fact that each and every one of the wolves in her home can read every one of her thoughts with complete and utter ease. 

“Oh! I have a baking sheet! I can just put it on there and you guys can share, yeah?” YN asks, dropping to her knees to rustle through a cabinet and find the baking sheet in question. Hearing no complaints, YN prepares the meat for the wolves, placing it carefully on the floor, holding onto one corner so it wouldn’t slide around on them. The two brown wolves quickly move to take tentative bites, the more playful of the two occasionally tossing his head over towards YN to receive a few scratches before returning to his eating. 

Once they finish, YN takes and dutifully cleans all the dishes she had made that day, ears straining to make sure she wouldn’t be attacked from behind, but yet trusting them enough to turn her back to them. She sings softly as she works, playful kid songs that she used to sing with her grandparents as she did her chores, inadvertently playing those loving memories for the wolves in her room as she does so. 

By the time she has finished with her chores, she turns to find the black wolf asleep directly behind her in a nice patch of sun, the grey wolf is carefully watching her actions from the corner of the room, and the two brown wolves laying further away, also having found nice patches of sun to lay in. YN smiles to herself, finding the sight of the wolves lounging in her space oddly sweet, before stepping over the black wolf, crouching down beside the great beast, giving him a few soft pets to partially rouse him, waiting for his eyes to open before letting him know that she would be checking his wounds and changing his bandages. 

She could feel the shift in tone as the great wolf let out a bit of a whine as the bandages come off, the others perking up a bit to watch what YN was doing, immediately ready to jump to his defense if she were to try to hurt the wounded wolf any more. 

Weary of the eyes on her, YN sets about making sure that she has everything she needs to clean the wound and change the bandages with as little pain to the wolf as possible. 

“Alright wolf, this is the part that stings, I’m so sorry.” She mutters under her breath as she does what has to be done, impressed by the amount of healing that’s been done already. 

“At this rate, you’ll be good to go by late tonight or early tomorrow morning.” YN sighs, taking the old bandages and throwing them out, before turning towards the wolves again. 

Checking the time, YN shakes her head and explains to the wolves that she is going to go to the study and write, as that’s what she usually does during this time, and that they are welcome to come with her if they want to. Turning on her heel, she heads towards the study on the second floor, fully expecting the wolves to either leave, or to just stay where they were. She really did have work to get done, regardless of the strange wolves that seemed way too comfortable in her space. Deadlines were deadlines, and she really didn’t want to have to crunch out a crap chapter for her editor, regardless of everything going on around her. 

What YN didn’t expect was for the black wolf to follow right behind her, limping slightly as he goes, but following nonetheless. Or for the two brown wolves to half-bark at each other, following behind their inky counterpart much more playfully, bumping into each other in a way that YN would have said must have been painful. Or for the grey wolf to follow behind them, much more somber than the duo in front of him, moving smoothly and surprisingly silently through the house.

“You do know there’s no sun to lay in, the study is the innermost room. Please don’t mess anything up, if you can help it, the study is my private place, really.” YN speaks much softer than she had been, causing the wolves to pay more attention to her words than before, feeling the importance of them. 

She opens the door, smiling to herself at the sight of the beautiful old books, the scattered journals, the overstuffed-and-ancient chairs, the slightly dusty paintings on the walls from artists YN couldn’t hope to know, the soft lighting, everything. It was comforting, but packed full of memories, some of which were still too painful and fresh to think of. 

YN heads over to the giant desk, opening her laptop and settling into the seat. She was aware of the four pairs of eyes that followed her movements, and she similarly followed theirs as they each found areas to curl up in. The grey wolf stayed by the door, facing it as if to make sure nobody tried to come in. The two brown wolves circled around the room a bit, before settling down by the overstuffed couch against one of the walls, both of them moving around periodically. Something in the back of YN’s mind told her that they were young, restless in a way that gave away their age.

It was the black wolf, however, that captured most of YN’s attention. He decided to place himself directly behind the huge desk chair, similarly positioned to the grey wolf, in the way that he seemed to be there for some sort of protection. She thought it was strange, the way these giant wolves were being so gentle, so protective. 

They settle in like that, with YN quickly getting immersed in the chapter she needed to finish, words flowing out of her in a way that made her feel almost buzzed. She loved that feeling- the feeling of creating, of making something out of nothing and breathing life into something so dead as a piece of paper or a computer screen. 

The whole scene was peaceful, in her opinion. She felt protected, she had ideas flowing out of her, and despite the fact the desk and it’s accompanying chair were both way too big for her and a little uncomfortable, she absolutely adored the study and all it had to offer. For whatever reason, it felt to her like home- the wolves in her space, the ideas, the old-artsy style of the room, all of it. 

[craniumhurricane]

call me, baby, if you need a friend

Cleaning up some old WIPs. This has been in my drafts since end of season 2/around season 3.

Basically 4 times Clarke calls Bellamy and 1 time that Bellamy calls Clarke.

Thank you @casleyislove and @sushigirlali for always reading things before I post them!

[ On AO3! ]

___

(i)

It's a quiet night in at the Blake apartment. Or, at least, for Bellamy it is. He's having a nice Friday night by himself after surviving a truly grueling week of finals. Octavia tried to convince him to go out and celebrate the end of the semester the "right way," but he turned her down… he's still not quite sure how he managed to do that.

His feet are currently propped up on the coffee table with a large bowl of store brand cocoa puffs in his lap. Bellamy may be an adult but damn if he isn’t going to celebrate the end of the term with sugary cereal… nevermind that he didn’t actually make time to grocery shop this week. The TV was queued and ready for the marathon of Ancient Aliens episodes he’d missed due to studying, and he was just about to press play when he hears a short but insistent buzzing sound.  

Glancing around, his eyes land on Octavia’s phone sitting on the corner of the coffee table. She must have left it in her hurry to leave since she was running late to meet up with her boyfriend.

Bellamy keeps his eyes on it for a second before deciding to ignore it, and once again his finger hovers over the play button on the remote. Then the phone lights up again, this time with a phone call; a picture of Octavia and a curly haired blonde that he recognizes, the name CLARKE THE GRIFFIN flashing across the screen. He considers ignoring it for a second time but... if she’s resorting to actually calling instead of texting again then something could be seriously wrong.

Bellamy swipes his thumb across the screen to answer and brings the phone to his ear but before he can even say anything a voice on the other side interjects immediately.

“Men are dicks,” the woman says without preamble. “No! Worse than that. They're weird tumors that grow on dicks," she pauses, seems to think about it, and then adds, "Preferably life threatening.”

Bellamy blinks a few times before he answers, “I'm sure you're right, but don't you think that's a bit harsh?”

The line is quiet. He can hear her shifting the phone, no doubt checking the screen to make sure she called the right person.

“Octavia?”

“Bellamy.”

Clarke huffs. “Where's Octavia?” she snaps. He can hear the annoyance seeping into her tone, which in turn just makes him feel his own frustrations start to rise.

He tamps it down though. “On a date,” he answers.

She deflates at that, “Oh right. One month anniversary with Lincoln.”

He hums a confirmation and then they’re silent for a few minutes. So long that it’s Bellamy’s turn to look at the phone and make sure she’s still there. “Did you need something?” he asks once he sees that the call is still, in fact, in progress.

She takes a deep breath before answering, “I ended things with Finn tonight.”

Bellamy had only met Finn Collins a handful of times; the guy was fine except for a little cocky… and he always seemed to want to show off in front of pretty girls. His hair was too long and always styled like he was some kind of frat boy that came from big money even though Bellamy's 100% sure he never so much as pledged.

And then there was that one time he flirted with Octavia.

Ok, so Bellamy didn’t like the guy. But a break up is still a shitty thing to go through which is why he says, “I’m sorry,” and finds that he means it.

“Not your fault,” Clarke says immediately, “But I was kind of looking for someone to watch me binge drink and listen to me vent.”

He understands that, having gone through the same thing when he broke up with Roma at the start of the term. If you could really call them “hooking up occasionally” the same thing as dating, but still, getting drunk with Miller had been essential in the whole moving on process.

“You want to come over here anyway?” he offers carefully, casually. He doesn’t mind Clarke. She’s younger than him, around Octavia’s age. They aren’t exactly friends, but he would consider them a little more than acquaintances. Enough that it shouldn’t be too weird for him to invite her over even without his sister present. Plus, her getting drunk here is a better alternative than her getting drunk by herself in some bar.

“You don’t mind?” she asks and he thinks he hears relief in her voice, “I was kind of already on my way over to your guy’s place... I don’t really feel like going out and I really don't feel like being depressed and alone in my dorm right now.”

“Nah,” he says and then tries a joke to brighten her spirits, “Sounds like something fun to watch. I’ll order food.”

“Chinese would be great,” and he swears he can hear a smile in her voice so he’ll count his dumb joke as a victory. “Thanks, Bellamy, see you soon.”

He's not even a little bit mad about dumping out his now soggy cereal.

*

(ii)

“So, you’ve been in school for basically forever. Is it normal for a person to experience this amount of stress?”

Bellamy’s lips twitch as he holds his phone to his ear. After Clarke crashed his Friday night in, and spilled on the whole cheating Finn debacle while they did shots, Bellamy figured he should give her his own cell phone number. As much as he hated to admit it, and honestly he never will, his sister and her boyfriend were getting serious, so who knows how much Octavia would be available for late night bitchfests about significant others, fellow students, and the human population in general. Which were just a few of the topics they discussed that night. Hanging out with Clarke ended up being kind of fun, a better night than he originally planned. She even let him watch a little of his marathon and offered her own commentary. Bellamy would do it again… which is something else he would never admit.

It's not like they suddenly talk every day, but it’s a near thing. They would send each other the occasional text when one of them sees something that the other absolutely has to know about. Mostly, he gets pictures of old dogs she sees at the park, asking if this will be him in 20 years. Bellamy responds in kind with memes about college life and rubbing it in her face that they no longer apply to him since he graduated last semester.

But sometimes she reaches out to him if there is something particularly bothering her. Such as dealing with egotistical dickwads that consider themselves professors and shutting down female students in a male dominated class.

Clarke’s probably the only person that ever calls him and can never start the conversation with a simple ‘Hello’. Actually, she’s probably the only person that actually still calls him.

“I just got a job teaching so that insult isn't going to work anymore since I literally will be in a school as part of my job,” is his first response before he turns to one of concern, “Midterms got ya down?”

“It’s just,” she gives an exasperated sigh before continuing, “I want to do something that helps people, I know I want to help people… But maybe I don't want to help people the way my mom wants me to help people...ya know?”

“You’re going to have to give me more to go on here, Princess-”

“I’m thinking about switching my major,” she says abruptly, like she’s ripping off a band aid.

He’s silent, waiting to see if she’s going to say anything else. When it becomes clear she’s waiting for him to say something he responds honestly, “If being a doctor isn’t something you want to do, then you shouldn’t do it.”

“But-”

“What your mom wants you to do shouldn’t overrule what you want to do, Clarke,” he interrupts her. Due to the increasing amount of time he’s been spending with Clarke, he’s learned that the Griffins have always had a capital “P” Plan and he knows that Clarke has a hard time knowing when she can push the boundaries of said Plan.

She’s silent again and Bellamy’s starting to think he’s going to have to prod her a second time. He’s got the beginnings of his big speech all prepared when finally she speaks up. “I’m thinking about going into Art Therapy,” She says thoughtfully, “Or maybe teaching? Helping out underprivileged kids...or hell, even underprivileged adults. Or maybe something for the community?”

His lips twitch on another smile at hearing the beginnings of a hint of passion in her voice. “Teaching can be very rewarding,” he says magnanimously.

She snorts and it turns into a full laugh, “You haven't even started yet! It could be the worst thing you’ve ever done and a total waste of your degree.”

“Your confidence in me really is touching,” he deadpans and then adds simply, “You’re an amazing artist, Clarke. I think doing something with that could be something you'd enjoy and be really really good at.”

She’s quiet when she asks, “You think I’m amazing? You’ve never told me that.” And Bellamy swears he can hear that smile in her voice again. The one he always looks forward to. The one he tries to coax out of her without realizing he’s doing it.

He feels his cheeks start to heat up and even though she can't see him, he feels the need to brush it off. “Yeah, well, I generally try to be as dickish as possible so…”

She snorts again and damn if he didn’t feel a slight flutter in his chest.

“For the record, I think you’re going to be an amazing teacher,” she says it so matter-of-factly but he’ll have to dwell on it later because she sobers and then asks softly, “So, you think I should do it?”

It’s not hard for him to build her up. She spends so much time being there for the rest of their slowly merging friend groups that she rarely takes time to see the greatness in herself. He doesn’t mind helping.

“I think you should do whatever the hell you want.”

*

(iii)

“Women are worse than men.”

Bellamy rubs the sleep from his eyes and glances at the clock; it was almost 3 in the morning. “I thought men were tumors?” he asks around a yawn.

“Yeah, well, women can be tumors too,” Clarke huffs, but she just sounds tired, “Comparing people to tumors is equal opportunity. Strides in feminism are being made, didn’t you know?”

Bellamy pushes himself into a sitting position, suddenly more alert as he picks up the trace of tears in her voice. “You ok?” he asks.

Clarke is silent at first, but he waits her out, he knows that she’ll tell him. “Lexa broke up with me,” she says quietly and then adds in confusion, “Or we broke up with each other? I’m a little unsure. We spent the whole night arguing and then suddenly she was packing up her stuff.” She pauses before taking a shaky breath, “It’s over. We’re over.”

“I’m so sorry, Clarke.”

“She was leaving anyway,” she continues, bitterly, “Some new job. She was leaving in a few weeks and didn’t even bother to tell me. I told her we could make it work long distance, I was willing to try and make it work. That’s when the arguing started. Not just about that but about-,” Clarke abruptly cuts herself off and hesitates, “about... other things. Things I didn’t even know were an issue.” She’s quiet again before she adds, “She didn’t say it but I think she was disappointed that I never suggested going with her...”

The thought makes a quick flash of irritation run through him. “She wanted you to uproot your entire life and go with her,” he summarizes as he tries to adjust the pillows on his bed by beating them, maybe a little too roughly at the thought of her doing just that, before leaning back against them.

“Which is completely crazy, I know,” she hurries to say, “but I wish we could have talked about it.”

“I am sorry, Clarke,” he says again, “I know Lexa seemed like she was it for you.”

“But maybe she wasn’t?” Clarke counters as if trying to reason with herself. “I don’t know. We were both committed to each other, but maybe this was a sign that we weren’t going to be able to make it work long term?” She pauses and Bellamy can hear the gears in her head turning as she processes a way for her to handle this, too explain it to herself. “When we were together,” she hesitates before continuing, and he can imagine her biting her lip, “I was happy... but I felt like a separate version of myself, ya know? Still me, but not completely me?”

Bellamy chews on the words he wants to say and goes with, “Sometimes the person you're with can change you; it's not always a bad thing.” He gets quiet as he adds thoughtfully, “I like to think Gina made me a better person...and she probably did,” he pauses, this time unsure if he should keep going, but Clarke hasn't said anything, so she must be waiting for him to continue, “We tried, tried really hard, to make it work, but eventually you just realize that maybe the relationship isn't going anywhere and what’s best for everyone is just to call it.”

“Wait, you and Gina broke up?” Clarke asks in surprise, “When did that happen!?”

“That's what you got from that?” He rubs a hand over his face as he thinks about it, “About two weeks ago?”

“Shit,” she says and is quiet before asking in a small voice, “Why didn't you tell me?”

“Honestly, I haven't seen a whole lot of you these last few months,” he hears what he said and corrects himself, “We haven’t seen a whole lot of you.” He’s surprised at his ability to keep the bite out of his voice; because the truth was this last year has sucked since Clarke started dating Lexa.

They met at one of Clarke's art gigs. Lexa was cool; fun when she wanted to be, but also a little hard to be around. Most of the time, she seemed to prefer doing things without any of Clarke’s friends.

“I’m sorry,” Clarke says.

“It’s fine,” he answers her and means it. “Gina and I are still good friends.”

“I wasn’t talking about you and Gina,” she says, voice soft.

He realizes what she’s actually apologizing for and he doesn’t know what to say. Because of course he forgives her, he will always forgive her.

The silence lasts too long so he clears his throat and prompts, “Want to come over and get drunk?”

Her laugh through the phone breaks the tension, “It’s like 3 o'clock in the morning.”

“My bar is always open.”

She chuckles. “I really want to hit something,” she says with a determined edge to her voice, “Then maybe get drunk.”

“How about this, we get a few more hours of sleep, wake up at a normal time, and go hit something,” he offers and then adds as if it's an afterthought, “And then get drunk, of course.”

She laughs again, “Oh, of course.” There’s that smile. “I forgot what being single with you was like.”

Bellamy sobers at the thought. It has been awhile since the two of them were single at the same time. “Always here to help, Princess.”

*

(iv)

“Why did I agree to this trip again?”

He’s packing up the essays that are scattered across his desk when she calls, 4 o’clock on the dot. Bellamy tries to suppress a laugh but he’s pretty sure she can at least hear the teasing smile in his voice.

“Just getting back to the hotel?” he asks in lieu of his own greeting.

“Yes!” she exclaims in exasperation. “And if it were up to Josephine, we probably would have walked all of damn Paris tonight,” her voice gets muffled at the end and he can only assume she’s thrown herself face first onto the nearest bed. “I cannot wait for a shower- No! A bath, definitely taking a long, hot bath.”

And now the image of Clarke Griffin in the bath, with just enough bubbles to cover up to her chest, has entered his mind. He shoves it away before anymore thoughts can accompany it.

This used to never be a problem. Sure, he’s always known that Clarke is attractive, but he has never been attracted to her. But ever since he broke up with Gina and she broke up with Lexa, Bellamy has been exceedingly aware of the fact that they have both remained single.

The last time this happened was right after Finn.

Bellamy shakes his head for good measure before responding. “You’re going to fall asleep in the tub and your roommate will find your prune-y, wrinkled body in the morning.” He cringes.  Apparently he wasn’t able to get the image of her completely out of his head.

Clarke scoffs, but he can tell that it’s in an exasperated but fond kind of way. “How is it that you manage to be a buzzkill from over 4,000 miles away?” she asks drily and then pauses before adding, “Actually, Josie would probably just leave me in there for the entire trip and never let on that something was up.”

He turns the key to lock his office behind him and heads for the staff lot. “Don’t worry, if you don’t call to check in, I’ll call the National Guard,” he teases.

“I know you would,” she says simply, like it’s a known fact.

Things have been a little weird after he became aware that they were both single. Mostly because, he’s pretty sure that Clarke has also come to realize it. When he turns to look at her, he often finds her already looking. Their innocent touches are now more frequent and linger just a bit longer.

Bellamy has come to realize that he doesn’t want to be single and the reason he doesn’t want to be single is because he wants his best friend to not be single with him.

There’s just never a right time to tell her.

“So, what did you do today?” he asks.

Despite the exhaustion and jetlag that’s surly setting in, Clarke jumps into an animated retelling of the flight and arriving at their hotel room just in time to change clothes and head back out to walk the streets of Paris to get their bearings before their tours officially start tomorrow.

“I’m a little disappointed that we’re doing the Louvre first thing tomorrow. I was hoping to be a little more alert for that.”

“Your coffee addiction hasn’t stopped just because you’re in another country,” he points out as he gets in his car.

She laughs, “Jeez, you are such an ass.”

He starts the car but doesn’t leave just yet; afraid the long distance call will drop out.

“What are you doing now?” he asks into the comfortable silence.

“Admiring the view,” she admits softly. “It really is gorgeous all lit up. Makes me want to dig out my sketchbook.”

“You have a week, Princess,” he chuckles. “Don’t screw up your jetlag even more by losing track of time in your drawings on the first night.”

She’s quiet again before confessing softer somehow, “It also makes me wish you were here.”

His heart clenches in his chest and he wills himself to sound normal. “Maybe next time,” he tries for teasing but it comes out almost wistful.

“Next time, hmmm?” Clarke hums. “You’d come to Paris with me?” And he’s sure she’s flirting with him.

“Well, maybe not for our first date,” he says, “But maybe, like, our fifth or something.”

Clarke’s quiet for a long time and he’s afraid he’s overstepped, misread the room. He’s about to take it back, play it off as a joke when she finally speaks.

“And what would a first date look like?” she asks with what he thinks is hope in her voice.

He swallows a couple of times. “Well,” he starts, “Since you’re already getting some of the best museum experiences, I’d probably settle for dinner and a movie. Something cheesy that’s playing at the dollar theater; where we’re the only ones there and can yell at the screen.”

She chuckles and his heart flutters, “We already do that, Bell. Quite frequently, actually.”

“Yeah, but if it’s a date then I’d get to kiss you at the end of it.”

“What? No making out during the movie?” she asks and he can picture how cute her face gets when she pouts.

A grin spreads across his face and he’s grateful no one can see how goofy he must look.

“We’ll have to make sure it’s a really bad movie.”

*

(+i)

Clarke rubs some moisturizer on her face before capping the tube and tossing it into her bag on the bed. After ensuring that everything she’s going to need for tomorrow is packed, she zips it up and grabs one of Bellamy’s hoodies to slip on over her clothes.

Ever since he picked her up from the airport when she got back from her trip to Paris, and she ran directly into his arms, giving the other people waiting quite a show, there always seems to be one laying around, waiting for her to find it. She assumes that he gets as much of a thrill out of her wearing them as she does.

She heads down the stairs of their townhouse, passing various pictures and artwork, and shoots Raven one more text not to forget to bring her dress to the venue tomorrow. She’s supposed to help her get ready in the morning along with her mother. In the meantime, Abby has sent a car to pick her up and take her to the hotel. Easier to get ready if she’s already there for the stylist… something else her mother insisted on paying for. No matter how many times Clarke told her she didn’t care what her hair looked like because she was marrying the love of her life.

Clarke locks up the house and greets the driver, slipping into the backseat. She intends to spend the ride lost in thought, going through the checklists that were running through her head.

Their engagement had been on the short side but she didn’t mind. They were both ready to get on with this next chapter in their lives.

Her phone is resting loosely in her hand, face down on her knee, when it starts to vibrate with an incoming call. She holds her breath for a second, praying it isn’t the florist or the caterers. But when she sees the photo of her and Bellamy from New Year’s flash on the screen, she can’t help but smile.

She taps the button and greets him with a sultry, “Hi, handsome.”

“Hey,” he says and she can tell he has a soft smile on his face, the one just for her. “You just leave the house?”

“Yep. On my way to the hotel now, so hopefully you haven’t forgotten anything because it’s too late now.”

“The most important thing is already on its way,” he responds with a teasing lilt.

Clarke can’t help the sharp laugh that escapes her lips, “Oh my god! You are such a sap!”

“I was referring to the ring, obviously, Princess.”

“Oh, obviously,” she says, mock serious.

They chuckle to themselves for a few minutes and she honestly can’t tell if the driver is rolling his eyes or thinks they’re being cute from hearing one side of the conversation.

Bellamy sobers up first only to let out a groan. “I hate whose ever idea this is,” he whines.

“Aren’t you the history professor? Shouldn’t you know where common traditions and such come from?”

He scoffs, “No, I mean I hate whichever of our friends is making us do this.”

The two of them haven’t seen each other since yesterday morning, him having been spirited off by his groomsmen while she was left to spend last night alone in their bed. And now they’re meant to go one more night without seeing each other.

To Bellamy’s point, Clarke isn’t altogether sure why this is a tradition anymore, nor why they are choosing to follow this particular one. She and Bellamy aren’t even that superstitious! And yet somehow they were talked into spending the days leading up to their wedding apart.

“Ah,” she answers him now, “That would be Raven and Miller. Although, I’m pretty sure it had nothing to do with marriage traditions and has everything to do with getting back at us for making out in front of them so much.”

Bellamy scoffs again, “Well, jokes on them, because after tomorrow, I don’t ever have to stop kissing you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she says, “We’ll have to come up to eat at some point.”

The driver pulls up under the awning of the hotel and Clarke gets out and grabs her bag before he’s able to get out and grab it for her. She gives him a wave and a simple thank you before heading through the sliding doors.

“How’s your room?” she asks into the phone as she bypasses the check in desk, her mother having already checked her in and given her the key card to her room this morning when they were getting their nails done.

He heaves a deep sigh. “Lonely,” he answers as she steps into the elevator. From what Clarke knows from his texts, Miller dropped him off here last night and left him to his own devices. Apparently, the best man gets to sleep next to his husband but Bellamy wasn’t allowed to sleep next to his soon-to-be wife.

She makes a split second decision and presses a different button, jolting the elevator to stop sooner than intended. When she steps off she casually offers, “I could help with that.”

“Oh yeah?” He chuckles. “You going to describe for me what you’re wearing?”

“Hmm,” she hums as if she’s considering it. “I could do that… but I was more thinking that I could show you.”

Clarke stops in front of a door and gives it a nice rhythmic knock.

She doesn’t have to wait long before it’s opening and Bellamy is standing in front of her with his phone against his ear and a huge grin on his face.

She lowers her own phone from her ear, pressing the end button without looking.

“Hi, handsome,” she manages before he’s pulling her into his room.

[bearmustard]

2021 Fic/Writing Goals

Ok, so, I go away for every new years and therefore I totally forgot to do a 2020 wrap up post, but I’m getting back on the writing horse after a crazy Nov/Dec period and wanted to make some commitments! 

I was SO proud that in 2020 I came back to fic writing, and published new fic for the first time in a decade (find them here and here!) I am also SUPER proud of both of those fics, and their reception has ABSOLUTELY given me the confidence to keep writing, so thank you so much to everyone for your encouragement. I especially want to thank @sashinalash, @twopoppies and @lululawrence, as well as the rest of the Panic Room GC, for their encouragement, support and cheerleading. I honestly could not have done it without you. 

Now, onto the 2021 fic writing goals!! 

Overall word count goal 

50,000 words - If I write all the fics I plan I will easily make this, but I have learned not to overestimate myself haha. This seems reasonable, with plenty of room for improvement :)

1D Fic: 

5x Fest Fic - This is due in 10 days, and I cannot wait to share it with you all. I have had it planned, blocked and (semi) drafted since Oct, so I’m on the home stretch. It is gonna hurt and I’m so sorry/not sorry at all. I wish I could say more. You’re just gonna have to read them all to guess which is mine!! 

In Those Years Pt 2 - The second instalment of my In Those Years series, and the follow up to At Risk I Fold, set throughout 2016, is story blocked but not drafted... yet. I am hoping to get it done by the end of the year but this is something I want to take my time on to get right, so it might take me a while. Who knows what will happen to inspire me?!

Melbourne Pubs AU - Another WIP I am sitting on that I am regularly thinking about - who knows if this will be finished this year but I am putting it here because Emma/ @sashinalash keeps egging me on. 

SPN Fic

If you haven’t noticed, I’ve kinda fallen deeply back in love with SPN in the past few months (over 12 years since I left the fandom whoops). I have two WIPS that I’m thinking about: 

Civilian - WIP - SPN/Generation Kill crossover (Alternate Season 5?) - In which pre-Series Dean joins the marines and goes to iraq, and Sam doesn’t find out until after Lucifer Rising. I have snippets of this written on my phone but it’s a bit all over the place right now. I guess I’ll just HAVE to rewatch Generation Kill (what a chore lmao). Most importantly, though, I have made a playlist, which means I’m serious about getting it done.

Alternate Season 12 WIP - Dean centric (duh) fic in which Amara brings back Charlie instead of Mary at the end of season 11, and lots of character work ensues. A really character based/figuring my shit out fic with lots of characters calling each other out on their bullshit. This will likely take me a while to write but I’m thinking about it a lot. 

Dark Angel Fic 

People who have been following me for a LONG TIME know that my original fandom is Dark Angel, which I recently rewatched. 

Escape and Evade AU WIP - ok, I have had this fic in my head since 2006 - and in my recent rewatch I finally solved how I was going to approach it. This is a deep cut fic that probably no one will read but it is so near and dear to my heart that I am putting it on the writing list anyway. 

Dark Angel Character Studies/Episode Codas - I also want to build my repertoire with a bunch of shorter DA character studies in prep for the fic. Putting these here as a goal because I am more likely to finish these than anything else. 

Tumblr Drabbles

Last year I published a bunch of my old tumblr drabbles and was surprised by how much I liked them, so I want to get back to taking ask prompts for short fics in any of my active fandoms. Good exercise! 

 I don’t know if anyone else has set goals but I thought I’d tag some people in case they want to do it: 

@harryanthus, @harryrainbows, @mercurial-madhouse, @lululawrence, @jacaranda-bloom, @reminiscingintherain, @cuethetommo, @twopoppies, @sashinalash, @indiaalphawhiskey, @cupcakentea, @choface, @heriz, @stunning-stylinson, @crinkle-eyed-boo, @cyantific and anyone else who is so inclined! 

[nossbean]

Ooh Hot Chocolate for the WIP meme, if you please :)

hee! I’m going to cheat possibly and combine this and Hot Chocolate II XD This sprung from asking a friend for a prompt for a writing warm-up last winter, hence the season appropriate: hot chocolate! Neither of these have any plot: my first go at the prompt is the start of a deleted scene from the Pacific Rim AU fic I did, with Jaime waking up before Brienne on his first morning in Tarth. Buuut it didn’t really have anywhere to go; I like it, but it petered out at just under 500 words. The second one is book canon, set in the future where Brienne and Jaime are visiting Sansa in the North with their kidlets. It has... genuinely no plot! This fic says: How did any of them survive? How did they get to where they are, post-war? Who knows! Who cares! They’re happy and healthy and mostly whole and that’s what matters! I do like it, for some slice of life fluff and I did come close to posting it -- I think it lived as a draft on AO3 before reaching that month limit to when AO3 deletes drafts, and indeed, reading it back now, I’m pretty sure I’d made some edits to the ao3 version to how Brienne in particular acts at the end. I’m not sure I’ll return to it, but in case it might bring some warm feelings as is, here’s the version I have:

Winterfell is under several feet of snow when they arrive. It is, at least, something to distract the children. Jo and Gall immediately fall all over themselves, tangled with Sansa’s Robb. Arya appears from only the Gods know where, and throws a loosely-packed snowball with infuriating accuracy at Jaime’s face. It collapses on impact, filling his nose and his beard, and somehow managing to sneak under the neck of his clothes to chill his chest, and with a growl, he launches himself into the mix.

He isn’t sure how much time passes, but he’s kneeled now in front of Gall, helping Jo and Robb pack snow around his legs to make him into a snowman. He has no idea where Arya’s gone, which is worrying, but he suspects Arya won’t disturb him when he’s playing with his children. Jo is in charge, one hand on her hip, the other pointing imperiously as she orders Jaime and Robb to work faster, bury her brother more efficiently, and Jaime delays long enough to cause her to frown severely at him, a downward pout to her mouth that he knows mirrors his own when he’s doing his best to goad Brienne, and he doesn’t know if he’s ever loved their daughter more. Of course, the thought is one which crosses his mind by the minute; with a glance to Gall, who is shimmying with excitement, sending the packed snow tumbling in small clumps, and his heart is full. He is so lucky. He remembers, every day.

“Fa-ther,” Jo says, and Jaime says quickly, “My apologies, Lady Joanna,” pretending at being demure when she nods regally, and redoubles his efforts.

His gold hand is surprisingly useful for the task, comparatively. That is, until Gall looks over Jaime’s shoulder and starts giggling, covering his mouth in a motion reminiscent of his mother. It’s enough warning, and Jaime collapses sideways onto his arse, just as Brienne drops an armful of snow where he’d been kneeled. It lands, now, on his calves and feet, and Jaime scowls, looking up at his wife. Her eyes are bright over her cold-kissed-red cheeks, broken teeth peeking from the wonderful curve of her smile, and Jaime curses his age as he struggles to scramble to his feet to tackle her into a nearby snowdrift.

Brienne gives him the time, though, kind, foolish woman that she is. She laughs up at him as they fall, the children hollering behind them, and Jaime wonders that he ever lived without the warm song in his chest brought on by the sound of her laughter. Once they’re collapsed, surrounded by snow, he squirms to prop himself up beside her, and promptly sets about stealing her scarf.

“You’ve made me cold, wife.”

“I haven’t,” she says, setting her jaw and tugging back on her scarf. “You should have dressed more warmly.”

“I didn’t expect such a chilly welcome,” he says, and Brienne groans and rolls her eyes. Jaime grins, then persists dramatically, “I also did not anticipate being attacked by our hosts upon arrival.”

“Last time we were here, Arya pushed you into the watering trough within minutes.”

“What’s your point?”

“That you bloody well should have anticipated it.”

“I have learned that in life, it is possible to mature,” he tells her with exaggerated sobriety. “And I had hoped that Arya might —”

“That Arya might what?” Arya says behind him. Brienne looks past his shoulder and starts snickering.

“Oh,” he murmurs. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“No,” Brienne says, tone what passes for sing-song with Brienne, and he almost doesn’t hate when the cold water soaks his head and slips under his various layers to spread wet patches across his undershirt. He definitely doesn’t hate when Brienne splutters furiously as he shakes his head, spraying her and Arya, who he hear skips back with an outraged yelp.

Mostly he soaks Brienne though. She deserves it for her betrayal.

After they escape to their quarters to change — and have a quick tumble, for the sake of warming his blood, he had declared, and Brienne had murmured shut up against his mouth, her fingers already on the ties of his breeches— one of Sansa’s handmaidens leads them to Sansa’s solar. 

Sansa smiles as she embraces Brienne and nods to Jaime. She is still a little shadowed, but each time they visit, she seems a little brighter, a little less guarded and distant. She gestures for them to sit, and says, “Ser Jaime, I think this may please you.”

“I will be honest with you, Lady Sansa,” he says, settling beside Brienne and leaning back in his chair to stretch his legs out in front of him. “Little has pleased me of Stark hospitality thus far.”

Brienne shoots him a look, but he sees as the turn to Sansa’s smile becomes more true, the way her eyes flicker mischief. She says, with the barest sardonic emphasis, “I’m terribly sorry for the nature of your welcome. I will speak with my sister.”

“Thank you, my lady,” he replies, matching her tone. 

“Perhaps this will make it up to you,” she says, and stands. She moves to the sideboard where mugs of something steaming wait. “We had an envoy from Dorne recently,” she says, lifting the tray and carrying it over. “They gifted us with this drink concoction. It is surprisingly suitable for snowy winters, given it came from warm climes.”

Jaime reaches out for a mug, passes it to Brienne, before taking one for himself. He sniffs dubiously at the steam rising from the brown mixture: it smells sweet, and rich, and dark, somehow. His mouth waters from the scent alone and he spares a passing thought that of course something so obviously luxuriant is a Dornish beverage before he raises the mug to sip.

The thick liquid spreads warm through his mouth, coating his tongue, and he hears Brienne offer a startled moan beside him. Rarely has he ever tasted something which matches its scent, but this drink — the sweetness fills his mouth, offset by a slight bitterness. It’s delicious. And yes, warming. It spreads heat down his chest, settling comfortingly in his belly. He drinks again, settling into the coziness it brings.

“So?” Sansa asks. Jaime opens his eyes and tips his head up to meet her gaze, looking down on him archly through the steam of another mug still on the platter. “Are we forgiven?”

For the sake of his wife, he ought to make this easy. But there’s a glint in Sansa’s eyes that he’s keen to tease out. So he shrugs insouciantly and says, “That depends.”

“On?” Sansa says evenly.

“How generous you are with your remaining stores.”

“Ah. That may depend on how keen you are to maintain truce with my sister. Really, this was a gift to her.”

“Mmm,” Jaime says thoughtfully. He looks to Brienne. “Are we prepared for war with the North?”

Under normal circumstance, Jaime would laugh at the serious look on his lady wife’s face despite how transparently absurd he is being, but Jaime has a facade to maintain. So when Brienne says firmly, “No,” Jaime sighs dramatically and turns back to Sansa.

“It seems we have reached an impasse, and it falls to me to be the bigger person.” He ignores Brienne’s disbelieving snort — will extract recompense later that this is what breaks her stern exterior — and nods graciously to Sansa. “All is forgiven.”

[livlepretre]

for the writing ask! 8, 9, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 19, 20, 21, 30, 31, 32, 44, 48, 51, 53, 54 (any other advice?) - sorry for all the questions. im just really curious, lol

oh geez haha I will endeavor to answer!

8. Favorite trope to write.

obviously enemies to lovers 😈

9. Least favorite trope to write. can I list fluff as a trope 

12. How do you deal with self-doubts?

I hit publish the same way other people do impulsive things like jump off a bridge (I did that too once. woke up with nightmares about it for weeks). When you’re doubting yourself-- and I doubt myself all! the! time!-- the best thing to do is to steel yourself for like 5 seconds, take the leap, and then wait. Most of the time people are incredibly kind and receptive, and whatever plot point was causing the anxiety will either go unnoticed or will be appreciated by someone out there. I feel like so long as the writing comes from a place of honesty and isn’t about sensationalizing or taking advantage of anyone, then it will work out.

13. How do you deal with writers block? I let myself put the work down and don’t stress about it. I have a rule where I only write if I feel like writing. It’s a hobby for me, so if I decide I would rather watch The Office or go for a walk with my husband, I just do what I want instead. A lot of times that’s because I have writer’s block, but writer’s block can’t be pushed. 

If I am determined to write here are some strategies I employ: 

Chances are I’m stuck because I don’t know exactly what’s going to happen, or I’m not certain of what a character would do. So I reread the story up until that point, make notes on anything I laid down earlier that is relevant to the part I’m on, and map out character motivations. Hopefully this helps me create a working outline that will push me forward. 

If I’m stuck because of trouble writing the story in a more profound sense, I put the story down and start something new and low stress. In other words, I intentionally start a project where the bar for publication is super low.  For example, both Love Bites and (The Stars Were Brightly Shining) are pretty much first draft stories. I would write the chapter and hit publish same day (most of the time). This gave me something fun to do that was still exercising the writing muscle but also gave me the opportunity for positive feedback and made writing fun again. 

If I can’t write at all, then I turn to reading. I read things that I really like, and I take notes on what I like about the story both from a narrative structure/plot perspective and in terms of the writer’s style and word choice. In theory we’re supposed to read a lot as writers, and writer’s block is a great chance to do so. 

And, eventually, I’ll be cooking or typing up something for work or in the shower and the missing puzzle piece will fall into place. It’s okay if that takes months. I’ve had 4 hiatuses on FE that have lasted 4-6 months each. So long as you want to finish the story, you will. 

14. What’s the most research you ever put into a book? ehhh probably watching seasons 1-2 of The Originals so I could figure out certain plot elements for FE. I do get sucked into research holes every now and then, but as they’re largely useless I try to scramble out of them as quickly as possible. (I say this with fear in my heart for the research I would have to do to write the 1492 time travel story I have in mind) 

15. Where does your inspiration come from?

Poetry, books I read and love, folklore, songs, my unhappy adolescence 

16. Where do you take your motivation from?

Honestly I get A LOT of motivation from everyone who reads and sends me a message. FE is a much bigger and much more arduous project than I anticipated, and the support has been a HUGE help. Also, for my other projects like SWBS, it’s such an inspiration to keep thinking about it and to get back to it whenever someone mentions it to me. I really do thrive on the community aspect of writing. 

Also, it’s turned out that the older I’ve gotten the more disciplined I’ve grown as a writer. I’m 30 now, and there’s a huge difference between my writing habits the last few years and what passed for them when I was 21 and writing After the Fire, But Before the Flood. 

19. First line of a WIP you’re working on.

Three broken ribs, a punctured lung, a broken collarbone, and a concussion, with bruising along her face, from where it connected with the side pillar, and along her throat and chest from the seatbelt. Two dead parents. A low buzz throughout the town: her name on everyone’s lips. - Nights at the Museum

20. Post a snippet of a WIP you’re working on.

Damon looks at her and cants his head to the side and he tells her, voice flip and unreachable as only his can be, “I see you’ve cheated death again.” He makes it sound like it’s him she’s cheated by not finishing the turn. 

She opens her mouth to respond, but what can she say? Death still sits heavy in her lungs. Smoke burns her eyes and blood clogs her nose. She could choke on the smothering weight of it all. On the weight of his expectation in her. His disappointment. 

“I never wanted to be a vampire,” she tells him, finally.

The look Damon gives her strips her bare. Somehow over the past six months she has let him in, and now that he is here, she cannot hide from him. “You never wanted to make a choice with your eyes open.” 

-Innocence 

21. Post the last sentence you wrote in one of your WIP’s.

well this is pretty spoilery for FE, so, reader beware: 

Rebekah has her pinned by an arm around her waist, her back flush to Rebekah’s front, both of them kneeling on the bed, while Rebekah reaches around and slowly fucks her with her hand. - Fairytale Ending

30. Favorite line you’ve ever written.

Right now I am very fond of this: 

Looking up into his face, into his eyes, gone dark and blue as the river back home when the moon was low in the sky, she finally admits the truth she's been hiding from herself for months. The thing she has been most afraid to ever, ever say, even to herself. Her gravest sin, which in this moment, feels like her redemption. "I love you." Saying it out loud is like the moment she drove the knife into her own side. - Fairytale Ending 

31. Hardest character to write.

Damon -- he has a very particular kind of humor and cynicism which I find really difficult to replicate (although I think I’m getting more confident) 

32. Easiest character to write.

Klaus-- literally there is nothing too extreme, it’s so much fun 

44. Best piece of feedback you’ve ever gotten. This will make like no sense but it’s from a creative writing class I took in high school, and the feedback was actually given to one of my friend, and I’ve remembered it ever since: “You have to use your avocado knives.” The context was basically he mentioned a pair of avocado knives sitting on a table and they never come up again. It’s the chekhov’s gun idea: when you put something down in the story, you have to actually use it. Everything in the narrative should have meaning if it’s mentioned, and work either functionally, metaphorically, or emotionally. 

48. Favorite genre to write in. Horror. 

51. Describe the aesthetic of your story _______ in 5 sentences or words. I’ll assume this is for FE: 

Gothic horror, where the blood is both in the grass and on the heroine’s hands. 

53. What does writing mean to you? It’s just something that I really, really like. 

54. Any writing advice you want to share?

I shared the bulk of it yesterday so here’s the rest: do what you want and have fun. 

[losingitinjersey]

I continue to be amazed by how busy life has become as a new parent.  I always figured since I was spending time at home that I’d have plenty of time to tackle projects around the house, maybe cull through drawers and clean things out.  Nope!  There are days when I barely find the time to do a 10 minute yoga session.  To be fair, I’m prioritizing things over it - like a nap or a shower.  

All this to say I’ve had several draft posts waiting to be written for weeks.  My problem is I like to spend at least 30+ minutes crafting a post from my laptop rather than posting on the mobile app.  We’ll see how that changes moving forward.  I keep hoping that once I make a catch up post (like this one) I then have the freedom to post more frequently, likely from my phone.  I keep taking pictures of every meal and activity like I’m posting daily thus resulting in a phone chock full of pics that never get posted.  

The pictures above are a good summary of what I’ve been up to.  Of most significance - I’m officially back into walking!  Since January 14th (three weeks postpartum) I’ve made my way out the door nine times (my first two walks weren’t logged due to my not downloading Runkeeper to my new phone in advance).  Today marked my first day out with just erp - and it was great!!!  Thankfully I had eight other walks under my belt (three with the babe) to get my comfort level back up, so I felt fully prepared today to go solo.  This week I even did my first five mile walk, which I used to do every other day pre-pregnancy.  Today, I listened to a “Getting Curious” podcast and loved the time outdoors in the fresh air with erp even though she was sleeping the entire time as she’s prone to do any time she’s in her car seat (hallelujah!). 

I also started lifting again this week!  Starting off from square one doing just the bar for bench and squat and minimal weights for deads.  It feels soso good integrating fitness back into my life again after basically being off for the last nine months.  I’m starting to be mindful of my eating and while I’m not back to strict keto I am trying to do moderate/low-carb.  I’m not counting every calorie but have started logging some meals in to get an idea of what my intake is while also stepping on the scale a few times per week.  I’m sure I’ll be back to full blown weight-loss efforts soon as I’m not a fan of how clothes are fitting now that I don’t have a baby bump to work with.  

Yoga is back to an every day priority which also brings back my vinyl of the day, which I’d missed.  I do love a solid routine!  

Erp is now over a month old (WHAT) and the center pic is an outtake from her one month photoshoot for FB documentation (although, I don’t intend to post more than at one, six and twelve months I’m sure I’ll continue to take them for my own records).  That bottom lip quiver gets me every time.  Since I’m not into frequent FB posting I downloaded an app called Tiny Beans where just my family and friends who want an onslaught of pics can subscribe and see the daily pics and videos I’m posting.  It feels like a really happy medium.  

Saki continues to be my best friend and occupies my lap any time there’s not a baby on it.  While he’s protective of his brood he isn’t the biggest fan of the babe.  He’ll usually jump on me, discover my lap is full, give her a good few sniffs before running off.  Occasionally he’ll share my lap or arms with her when he’s especially needy but that’s been rare.  Although, when he sees I’m sans baby he’ll be my shadow and can barely wait for me to sit down before he climbs on me for all the cuddles.  

Check out this random sprout coming out of this succulent!  I’ve had the plant since my bff’s bridal shower in May but apparently this little growth wanted to make his appearance nine months later on January 17th and the last picture taken today, January 28th.  I know nothing about plants but that seems like an awful lot of growth for just over a week.  I’m fascinated to see what’s going to happen next!  When is it going to get too tall to keep going straight up?  Will it lose all structural integrity and collapse?  Will it flower!?  This sprout is keeping me more than entertained.  

Speaking of entertainment, I’m zipping through shows like nobody’s business.  I’m sure I’m unable to remember all programming I’ve consumed but I’ve completed at least the following shows:  Fleabag, Crashing, BoJack Horseman, latest season of Grace and Frankie, You, Troop Zero, Unbelievable, Brittany Runs A Marathon, and I’m currently on the second season of The Let Down.  Not to say that I’m prioritizing watching shows over being productive, it’s just that I’m trapped in a chair either breastfeeding, pumping or rocking my child for the majority of the day and there’s only so much social media I can stomach.  

Breastfeeding and pumping have been going pretty well although I’ve recently been very close to running out of my entire stock of milk since my child is now on an extreme growth spurt.  She’s eating about 34oz a day and I’m producing roughly 32oz.  This past weekend we started supplementing with formula so I can start building back up a supply for when daycare starts next week.  I’m now pumping every two hours during the day and every three hours at night.  Each time I feed her about 6oz of breast milk then 2-3oz of formula to top her off.  I had allllll the feels about not being able to keep up and needing to use formula but thankfully I’m less emotional about it now that we’ve started doing it.  Fed is best and I’m doing everything I can for her and that has to be enough.  

All in all I’m doing really really well.  I’ve never had more purpose or felt this fulfilled and I’m loving taking care of erp, Kevin, Saki, the house and myself.  Sadly, this precious time starts to end this coming Monday when I go back to work.  Thankfully, I negotiated having six additional weeks of flex time so I’ll work from the office 2-3 days a week and work from home the remaining days.  Although, given how hard it is for me to get anything done I am worried how my work is going to suffer on days I’m working from home.  I doubt anyone (other than myself) has high expectations of me so I just need to give myself grace and try and find a balance.  Easier said than done, I’m sure!  

For now, my daughter is sound asleep in my arms, I’ve got half an hour before another pumping session then onto making dinner.  Even though this post is more than long enough, I have to add - Kevin has been amazing.  His school schedule has been extremely light so he’s home most of the day and does more than his fair share of baby duty.  He’ll prop her up on his desk while he’s playing computer games while feeding her or holding her as she falls asleep.  He just loves being with her as often as he can be.  He takes the first part of most night shifts so I can get rest and reminds me constantly how proud he is of me and how well I’m doing.  My favorite time is when we do bath time together as a team sport.  I really lucked out in the partner department and, man, did we make a cute kid! 

[yonmissnoname]

The new advisor (tdp OC one-shot)

It was Rayla who first saw the new face as she walked through the gates of the Castle. After living in Katolis for almost five years, she new almost every court member by name or at least seen their face. Even if it has not really been five years since she and Callum have been traveling back and forth between the human kingdoms and Xadia for the past year and a half. This time they had been gone for 5 months, for yet another peace treaty.

It took Callum, who was walking beside her, his hand in hers, a few seconds longer to notice the unfamiliar person standing a few meters away from them (Rayla likes to believe that it is because the assassin training helped sharpen her senses, even if she doesn’t have any real proof that her eyes are better than his). Callum stopped in front of the new girl, she seemed to be around Ezran’s age, a bit smaller than Callum and wore a hood that was like the one Opeli normally wore. They could still see a bit of her light brown hair that turned blond at the ends and her green eyes looked at them rather excited, even if her posture appeared to be formal. Rayla noticed that she tried to hide her emotions with her posture, but her eyes betrayed her, and Callum noticed that she reminded him a lot of Opeli, not only because of the hood. Before either of them could introduce themselves, the girl started talking.

“It is an honor to meet you, Prince Callum and Lady Rayla”, she said and bowed, “the king asked me to meet you here and take you to the throne room, where he is waiting. He asked Barius to make even more jelly tarts than normal” she smiled at the last information. “Thank you… uhm sorry, if I’m being rude but I haven’t seen you before, are you new here?”, Callum asked polite. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I forgot to introduce myself”, she said and bowed again, “my name is Leila and I am the new adviser in training. Opeli has been teaching me for the last 3 months”, she explained and looked up, “she told me to introduce myself, because you have been gone for the last five months, but I forgot. Please excuse my mistake” Rayla and Callum looked at each other, since it now made sense why they did not recognize her, but now they had other questions like: Why did Opeli start to recruit a new advisor? Why did they choose a kid for that (granted, she probably was a teen, but since she was around Ezran’s age and was still a kid to them, so was she)?

“It is nice to meet you”, Rayla said finally and Leila smiled and answered, “it is an honor to meet to of the heroes that saved the dragon prince” before she lead the way to the throne room.

--

Both Rayla and Callum where a bit suspicious, but the moment they arrived at the throne room and the guards only glanced at Leila before they let her pass, their suspicion passed away. She opened the doors and walked in front of the throne, Callum and Rayla following her. Leila stopped and bowed: “my king, Prince Callum and Lady Rayla have returned and are here as you requested”. Ezran looked up from a scroll he was reading and it still amazed Rayla and Callum how much Ezran had grown in the past five years (even if they saw him five months ago). He grew and was as tall as Rayla was when they first met and even if he still had his unruly hair, it was not too big for his head anymore. He still had his soft features which made him look as friendly as before.

“Callum! Rayla!”, he rushed to them and tackled them into a hug, which ended with all three of them on the ground. He was still the same Ezran.

Leila was fast enough to avoid being coughed in the people pile and walked over to where Opeli was standing, on the left side of the throne, while Corvus was standing on the right. It took a few minutes until he let them go. They quickly said hello to Opeli and Corvus.

After Callum and Rayla explained how their mission went and Ezran updated them on everything that has been going on at the castle, Barius walked into the throne room and the trio had a jelly tart break while Opeli excused herself and Leila, since she had to continue teaching her, and Corvus went to the courtyard to train.

During the update about the castle Callum and Rayla learned that having Leila as a advisor in training was his idea and Opeli agreed, because she thought that it was a good idea to have someone that was Ezrans age around (since Callum and Rayla have to leave for meetings all the time). “Why did you decide that it should be Leila? How did you meet?”, Callum asked confused. Ezran explained that she was wrongly accused of hurting a child, but it turned out that she protected the child, but the parent misunderstood. While she was still at the castle, she witnessed a dispute between two members of the high council. Opeli later told me how she talked with the high council members, as if she herself had taught politics and her arguments sounded like they could have been from Ezran. That is how he came to ask if Opeli thought she taught that Leila was advisor material.

“Ezran… you truly have a good heart”, Rayla said and put her hand on his shoulder, “but don’t you think that it’s a bit too risky to train a stranger to be one of your advisors? What if she is out to kill you?”. Callum nodded to show his agreement, of course it was an extreme thought, that Leila wanted to kill Ezran, but he was the king and you could not be careful enough. Especially because not everyone is happy how he wants to have peace with Xadia.

“Bait trusts her”, Ezran answered and pointed to the glow toad sitting in his lap. “Does… does Bait know her?”, Callum asked, the glow toad still was a bit of a mystery to the prince. “No, he doesn’t”, Ezran said smiling, “how would he? But he told me that she is trustworthy, and it wouldn’t be bad for either of us, if we keep her around”. Callum and Rayla looked at the animal in question. “Why do I feel like he is planning something? Or knows something we don’t?”, Callum asked and looked at Rayla. “Sometimes I would really like to know what is going on in his brain”, Rayla mumbled.

--

“You are dismissed”, Opeli said and closed the book, that she was holding in her hand. “Thank you Opeli, I will ask the King if there is anything left to do, before I will go to sleep”, Leila said and bowed, before she walked out of Opeli’s office like room. The sun had already set, as she walked through the halls to the throne room. There is stood in front of the King, keeping her head slightly bowed. “Opeli dismissed me, so I came to ask if there is anything, I can do for you”.

Ezran had already said goodnight to Callum and Rayla since they were exhausted from travelling. He was playing chess with Corvus which had become a bit of a routine for the two of them. The tradition started because they used to search Bait every evening, because he did not want to go to bed and Corvus offered to help. When Bait stopped disappearing at the end of the day, they decided to play chess, or another board or card game if they felt like it, to discuss the events of the day, since it was what the used to do while searching for Bait.

“No, you are free to do whatever you want”, Ezran said, “you could also join us. If you aren’t to tired”. Leila smiled but shook her head lightly, “thank you but I think my bed is calling me”, she said and Corvus chuckled: “don’t worry, you can always join us on another day”. It was true, Ezran would always ask her to join and sometimes she did, but today had been a busy day for the advisor in training. Leila nodded and scanned the chess board before she turned to Corvus, suddenly turning serious. “Corvus, as unofficial, somewhat official protector of the king I wanted to remind you how important every person around the king is, especially his loved ones. If they are gone, what will happen to the King?”, she asked and was about to answer, but Ezran interrupted her, “the King will fall! Ha, checkmate!”. While Corvus was looking at her confused, Ezran had understood her hint and managed to take Corvus’ Queen and cornering his King in one move. Leila smiled and bowed, “good night, your majesty” she apologetically patted Corvus’ shoulder, her smile never leaving her lips, “good night Corvus, sorry. But your Queen was almost begging for that”. She left the throne room with Corvus’ “oh come on, that’s cheating” and Ezrans “Wuhu, thanks Leila!”

--

“Callum is right, I do feel like you know more than us”, Ezran told the glow toad later at night as he sat down on his bed, Bait in his hands. Bait just looked at him without any expression. “Maybe you can just read people really well”, Ezran assumed.

A few weeks passed, before he found out, what Bait knew that he did not.

--------------------------------------------------

Hey tdp fandom!

I’m super nervous, because this is m first time posting any of my drafts, but I wanted you to met my OC Leila! I wrote this a while ago and in this one-shot I just wanted to introduce her. I do have a few other drafts that have her origin, how she became the advisor in training and of course a one shot revealing why Bait thinks that she is trustworthy (she does have quite a few secrets up her sleeve). I may post them in the future (depending how Long this quarantine is going to last and how much more I’m gonna lose of my sanity).

I hope you enjoyed my small introduction of Leila and it is mentioned above,but I just wanted to mention again: This plays five years after the events of the Show (or at least, after the events of Season 3)

Sorry if there are any grammar or spelling mistakes, english is not my native language.  

Stay heathy and happy!

[inevitably-johnlocked]

What are your favorite johnlock fics of all time?

Ohhhh.

Ohhh noo. 

Nonny you’re cruel.

Okay so funny story: 

Someone asked me this exact thing a couple years ago. 

I started a fic rec list offline at that time

Said list kept growing and growing as I decided to start sorting my fics.

It’s now a couple years later, and the list has over 300 fics on it XD.

So you see my dilemma LOL. 

I have done a few fic lists in the past along this vein:

Top 20 Fave 40K+ w. Fics (April 2017 )

Ten Fave Short Johnlock Fics (Easy Reads April 2018)

25 Fave Johnlock One Shots (April 2018)

Top 10 Fave Fics (September 2018)

So what should I do today? How about the fics I ALWAYS re-read when I feel like I just need something familiar and oh so delicious? Would that be okay? Fics that I never hesitate to read again? Note that this list will probably change in a few months’ time as I re-read newer fics I’ve recently bookmarked; if I’m in a certain mood, a fic will get added and another removed, LOL. In fact, I’ve had this sitting in my drafts from quite awhile before I finally posted it, LOL. Waited a week, because my “feels” kept changing, HAH!

I have WAY more than 30 of these, but I had to stop somewhere! So here’s the criteria for these ones today:

I’ve read them more than 5 times since I bookmarked them

I read them start to finish, without skipping anything even though I know what happens.

That’s it. It’s just so I can keep my list down, LOL. Seriously, I love SO many fics that this list was HARD to do. Hope you enjoy!

I-J’s TOP 30 READ-AGAIN FICS (MARCH 2019)

The Strait of Juan de Fuca by mightypog (T, 6,400 w. || Vacation, Love Confessions, Friends to Lovers, Canada, Post-TRF, Love Confessions) – Sherlock is back and all seems forgiven, but something is missing between him and John. Their friendship initially appears intact, but Sherlock doesn’t understand why John seems to be slipping away. Finally, in terror, he tries to reconnect with John by taking him to the one place that seems to inspire any emotional interest in John any more: the Canadian wilderness. While there, Sherlock faces his greatest fear.

Fa Subito by kim47 (E, 6,659 w. || Suit Porn, Cockblocker Mycroft, Obsessed Sherlock, PWP) – John wears a suit. Sherlock finds it extremely distracting.

Bread and Wine and Curry Once a Week by cwb (E, 8,737 w. || Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Stroppy Sherlock, Love Letters, POV John) – Sherlock asks John for relationship advice. Little does he know that it’s him that Sherlock is in love with.

The Emergency Contact Series by blueink3 (M, 11,763 w. across 2 works || 5 and 1′s, Whump, Mutual Pining, Fluff and Angst, Caring Sherlock / John, Scars) – The first time John Watson’s emergency contact is called is the first time Sherlock Holmes finds out that he has the job. The first time Sherlock Holmes realizes he needs an emergency contact is the first time he mentally appoints John Watson with the job.

Iris by slashscribe (E, 11,948 w. | Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Post-S3) – Sherlock does his best to make John happy when John comes back to 221B with his new baby after the events of Season 3, but Sherlock has a track record of getting things wrong in this area. This story is an exploration of their gradual shift from friends to lovers, told from Sherlock’s perspective, full of a lot of pining and lack of emotional awareness.

Speaker for the Bees by antietamfalls (M, 14,649 w. || Deaf Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Fluff, Sign Language) – It isn’t always easy assisting a deaf detective. Luckily for John, they make a pretty good team.

A Hundred Thousand Ways to Say the Name John by Jberry (E, 16,825 w. || Fake Relationship, Fake Marriage, POV John, Pining John, Cruise Ship, Angst & Fluff) –  John Watson and Sherlock Holmes must solve a case on a cruise ship. To get close to the crew and passengers, they must get married for the case on the Baetica. However, their relationship hits rocky seas both due to the case and internal conflicts. Part 1 of Baetica

A Shipless Ocean by myswordfishmind (M, 22,135 w || Post-TRF, John has a Kid) – Ten years after the fall Sherlock goes back to London to find that John no longer lives there. Instead, he resides in a seaside town, a widower, and the father of a seven year old son. Now, Sherlock must struggle with the fact that there may no longer be a place for him in this new world.

Knotted by naughtyspirit (E, 23,166 w. || UST/URT, Cuddling, Sharing Body Heat, Confessions, Kissing, Mastrubation, Frustration, BAMF!John) – John has to cancel a date because of Sherlock’s case, which leads them to be tied up in a basement from which they have to escape. They get wet, get tied up close and John has to step up and save them. Because he’s pretty. And hot. And just a little bit of a BAMF.

Tomorrow’s Song by agirlsname (M, 24,645 w. || Post-TRF, POV Sherlock, Angst with a Happy Ending, Virgin / Repressed Sherlock, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, Pining) – How can he think a relationship with me would be a good idea? I am the sort of person to take a break from my life and when I come back after two years, I expect to find it exactly as I left it. In reality I find it shattered to pieces. (I actually equate you with my life. When did I start doing that?)

26 Pieces by Lanning (E, 28,236 w. || H/C, Torture, First Time, Happy Ending, Schmoop) – Mycroft gives Sherlock the apparently simple task of solving a puzzle box containing a stolen microchip. It isn’t simple.

Hitting the Water at Sixty Miles an Hour by what_alchemy (E, 30,568 w. || Fake Rel., Roadtrips, Slow Burn, Mummy Holmes) – “You love your mother, Sherlock?” John watched the muscles in Sherlock’s jaw jump. He nodded in one sharp jerk.“Then we’re going to her party and making her happy.” John let out a resigned sigh. “As a ruddy couple, you bastard.”

A Study In Auto-Signatures, Sniper Dolphins, and Sex Holidays by cwb (E, 32,690 w. || Case Fic, Post S3, Evil Mary, Dev. Rel., Honeymoon, Epistolary, Bottomlock, First Kiss / Time, Fluff, Secret Agents, BAMF!John) – John and Mary go on their sex holiday, and Sherlock is grumpy and pining about it. Part 1 of HOT DOLPHIN SEX

a good old-fashioned happy ending by darcylindbergh (E, 32,731 w. || Christmas, Frottage, Comfort, Est. Rel., Fluff, Insecure Sherlock) – For Christmas this year, Sherlock wants to get John something special: something every fairytale deserves. Part 2 of things fairy tales are made of

The Yellow Poppies by SilentAuror (E, 34,952 w. || H/C, Nightmares, HLV Fix-It, PTSD, Trauma, POV Sherlock, Doctor John) – Sherlock is threatened and assaulted in the hospital immediately after having been shot in the heart, first by Mary, then by Magnussen. As he recovers at Baker Street with John and plans the attack on Appledore with Mycroft, he fights to work through the trauma caused by these two visits. Set during His Last Vow.

LHR-HNL by scullyseviltwin (E, 35,066 w. || Hawaiian Vacation, Post-TRF, Friends To Lovers, Slow Burn, Just Talk Already, Drinking, Mutual Pining) – In need of an endangered flora sample, Sherlock and John must make a trip to an unexpected destination.

Classified(s) by blueink3 (E, 36,153 w. || Wedding Date AU || Fake Relationship, Jealous, PIning, H/C, Idiots in Love, Happy Ending, Mary is not Nice, Escort Service) – Clara’s American father is the ambassador to some such territory that Great Britain probably used to own, but she (and Harry’s undying love for her) is the reason John is getting on a flight at 12:30pm, flying across the second largest ocean in the world, and pretending to be in a perfectly happy, healthy relationship with an undoubtedly perfectly coiffed stranger. See, Clara is not only American (and wealthy to boot), she’s also best friends with John’s ex-fiancée. Whom she’s placed in the wedding party. As Maid of Honor. And John just happens to be Best Man. Bloody brilliant.

A Promise Made to Be Broken by PlantsAreNeat (E, 37,018 w. || Fake Relationship, Pining, Slow Burn, RST, Eventual Relationship, POV Sherlock) – A young John makes an ‘if we’re still single at 40, we’ll get together’ pledge to a woman who ends up all wrong for him. She keeps reminding him of the promise, and won’t let go of it. John asks Sherlock to pose as his boyfriend at a family wedding, so as to dash her hopes permanently. Sherlock, who has at last acknowledged his feelings for John, reluctantly agrees despite knowing how painful it will be to ‘have’ John, but not keep him.

Goodness Gives Extras by mydwynter (E, 39,629 w. || Fluff & Angst, Case Fic, Oral / Anal, Humour, First Time, Miscommunication, Snark, Christmas) – Christmas time. ‘Tis the season to settle down with a drink, some food and a present or two, and to enjoy the quiet relaxation of the holiday. Instead, there’s a case that drags them all over, missing presents, disappointed kids, angry parents, and a freak snowfall. On top of that John has to deal with Sherlock, who is being even more of a prat than usual. He really shouldn’t have expected anything different.

Right Hand Man by SilentAuror (E, 42,031 w. ||  H/C, Injury, Slow Burn, Infidelity, Mary is Not Nice) – When John’s left arm becomes paralysed after a car accident, Mary asks Sherlock to take him back to Baker Street to recuperate, as she’s about to give birth. Despite the fact that the search for Moriarty is ongoing, Sherlock takes John in and takes responsibility for overseeing his rehabilitation as he adjusts to the loss of his arm.

Left by lifeonmars (M, 45,153 w. || Magical Realism) – John Watson is left-handed. He’s tried not to let it affect his life, but as any Lefty knows, that’s almost impossible.

Corpus Hominis by mycapeisplaid (E, 47,709 w. || Casefic, Fluff, Romance, Frottage) - John knows the human body intimately. He’s had plenty of opportunity for study as a doctor, soldier, and lover. There’s one particular body, however, he knows very little about. When Sherlock launches himself head-first into a new obsession and they get sent on a case in an unlikely location, the pair discovers each other’s bodies with confusing yet delightful (and sometimes hilarious) results.

Triage by scullyseviltwin (E, 51,612 w. || Character Injury, Introspection) – Sherlock’s mind goes exceedingly, devastatingly quiet and gray-blank. When he speaks it’s through a thick haze, it’s through molasses, he’s so disconnected from the words that it may as well be the unconscious shooter speaking.

Spare Change by Ermerness (E, 51,966 w. || Rich Sherlock AU, Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Alternate First Meeting) – The Holmes family is one of the richest and most powerful in England. Sherlock spends his time flying around the world on the family’s private jet drinking a lot and shopping at expensive boutiques as a way of trying to alleviate his endless boredom. His mother decides it’s time he settles down with someone powerful, wealthy and well connected. John Watson happens to be none of those things.

Coventry by standbygo (E, 52,020 w. || Dollhouse AU || Case Fic, Slow Burn, Sci-Fi / Fantasy, First Kiss / Time, Attempted Rape, BAMF John, Falling in Love) – “Let me get this straight,” John said, wondering when his life had become a science fiction film. “Some guy orders up a personality, a person, to his specifications, and they program this into a real live person, who has consented to do this, and she goes to this person and acts as his wife, or lawyer, or Royal Marine, or Navy Seal or what have you, and she has all the skills, all the knowledge, everything? Then you say the magic words, and she follows you back to The House, and they erase it all until her next appointment?”

Wars We Fought, Things We’re Not by blueink3 (M, 55,204 w. || Parentlock, Fluff & Angst, Kidnapping, Whump, Post-TAB, UST, Slow Burn, Couple for a Case) –  Five months after John’s world has fallen apart, Mycroft sends the consulting detective and his doctor on a case that neither is prepared for.

Perdition’s Flames by i_ship_an_armada (E, 63,435 w., || Treklock AU, Est. Rel, Genetic Engineering, Angst & Fluff, BAMF!John) – Sherlock would do anything to save him. Risk anything. Give anything. His money, his life. His soul. What he does, though, is change both of their destinies forever. Genetic re-engineering is the only option left. It turns out researchers underestimated the life expectancy and potential abilities of genetically re-engineered subjects. The British government and what would eventually become the United Federation of Planets, however, had not. Part 1 of PF Universe

You Have Drawn Red From My Hands by J_Baillier (T, 67,085 w. || Three Garridebs, Heavy John Whump, Hurt / Comfort, Pining, Heavy Angst, Case Fic/Adventure, Slow Burn, Sick Fic, Injury, Guilt & Depression, Just Talk Already Please, Medical Realism, PTSD) –  John getting injured leads Sherlock on a path of guilt and revelations.

Shatter the Darkness (Let the Light In) by MojoFlower (E, 109,683 w. || Genie/Djinn AU || Magical Realism, H/C, Kidnapping, Genie Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Case Fic, H/C, Angst, Clubs, John Whump) – Fairy tales are for those who remember how to dream; not John Watson, broken and hiding from his bleak future in a beige bedsit. But then he discovers a lamp and finds himself in the dangerous riptide of an enigmatic man whose very existence is unbelievable, murder charges against his sister, and the growing pains of feeling alive once more.

Midnight Blue Serenity by BeautifulFiction (E, 151,907 w. || Friends to Lovers, Gay Bar / For a Case, Drugs, Pining, Case Fic, UST) – When Sherlock infiltrates a club in order to track down a serial killer, his altered appearance is enough to make John question his assumption that Sherlock is beyond his reach. However, is he the only one who appreciates his flatmate’s charms, or is Sherlock at risk of becoming the next victim?

[beerecordings]

Around Your Wrists

Part 17 of My Brother’s Keeper (Part 1 l Previous l Next)

My taglist is a separate post. Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed, my dude. Sorry this is longer than usual - couldn’t cut it down. I had so many ideas for this chapter I wrote more than 12,000 words worth of draft. I showed Lau a draft to get some feedback and more than half of this will be entirely new to this (ty for your help dude ly :D). But!! I think I’m happy with how it turned out and very excited about the story again. :) Thanks for reading!

Tws for panic attack, PTSD, and mentions of cutting and torture

Edit: @loganandoli made such a cute Jamie drawing based on this chapter!!! I love it so much. You can see it here

Brotherhood is often forged in blood. Jameson and Henrik have shared much of the same suffering. They’re still sharing it. Henrik wonders if it has yet to destroy them both.

There's a moment where he wakes up and isn't afraid at all.

Chase is watching him from a chair next to the bed, his leg bouncing a hundred miles a minute, Schneep stands above him like a guardian, his eyes too wide, and Jackie – Jackie, that's his name, Anti rarely said it, but now he knows – Jackie is holding him.

But Jameson isn't afraid.

A hand, gently glowing, lies on Jameson's chest, above his heart, and Jameson is filled with light, with warmth like he's never felt before. Is this the power Anti warned him about? Nothing about Jackie was ever explained to him. Anti only told him he was dangerous, told him he should hate him, told him he should be afraid – but this feels nice.

This feels safe, safe in a way he's never felt before. His soul is bared, but the hand that holds it isn't clawed. He doesn't know why Jackie's reaching out to him, doesn't know why he's being held, but for a second, it doesn't matter.

“Oh,” says Jackie, startling, and then he sets him back down on the bed and draws away hastily. The light dies down around him as his power retreats and the world is no longer saturated in his warmth and color. “He's awake now.”

Fear creeps up Jameson's throat once again, cold in the darkened room, and he shivers weakly and sinks back into the pillows, licking his dry mouth and trying to bare his teeth.

“Thank God,” cries Chase, rising from his chair so fast he nearly knocks it over. Henrik puts a hand on his shoulder and stops him from touching Jameson, who recoils as a matter of custom. In the doorway, Jackie is already gone.

Good, thinks Jameson, with what little savagery he has the strength for. Good, stay away.

“Hey, are you okay?” asks Henrik, in a voice like a dying wind. His teeth chatter slightly in his tightened jaw. “I thought – you were unconscious for hours – you – you scared me, Jameson.”

Chase glances over at the doctor, alarmed.

Was he really out for so long? Jameson blinks and turns to the window, where the sun has risen cheerfully in the sky, melting at the last of the winter snows, leaving the dead grass to grumble its way out from beneath the cold. Well, he didn't really mean to be gone for so long – or he had, but he hadn't realized his body would just be here, non-responsive. It felt like minutes to him.

“You were just lying there shuddering.” Chase's face is a little grey. Not for the first time, Jameson is taken aback by his concern.

Why do you care? he wants to ask, and then, a little more morbidly, You should be happy to see me die. Don't you know I belong to Anti?

“How are you feeling?” asks Henrik, coming to sit beside him on the bed. “Do you know what happened?”

Jameson just stares and sinks down in his blankets until his mustache is covered. He isn't quite ready to tell them about his power just yet.

Chase draws Henrik away, pulling him just outside the door, whispering soft enough that Jamie can't hear. “Henrik. What happened to him?”

Henrik's eyes are dark and severe, his mouth taut with fear. “Do you remember the first time I came back from being Anti's?” he asks.

“Yes,” says Chase, mournfully. “Obviously. You were really freaked out and you got super sick.”

“Really freaked out” is code for “unraveling so fast we thought you had actually lost your mind” and “you couldn't look at our faces without screaming” and “there were days where you would go so deeply into flashbacks that you would act like you were possessed again,” but Chase doesn't think that needs to be said out loud.

The doctor nods and tilts his head, and he says, “Withdrawal,” softly, as a diagnosis.

An incorrect one, but a good attempt.

“Oh,” says Chase. “Oh.”

There are consequences to being taken away from the demon after too long under his control. Right now, those consequences are the best guess they have for why Jameson, blank-faced and shuddering, was unresponsive for more than four hours.

Henrik sets a hand on Chase's shoulder. Chase isn't sure if it's there to comfort him or keep Henrik from collapsing. It wasn't easy, sitting here for so long, praying to God that their little brother would get up again, undamaged. Chase is beginning to worry this is more than Henrik can handle right now, but he isn't about to stand between the good doctor and a patient.

“We've had a rough time of it for a couple days, haven't we, bud?” Henrik raises his voice back to Jameson's level and re-enters the room, sitting down beside him on the spare bed. “I think it's time to start feeling better. Chase, fetch me my bag and some water for him. It's time for a check-up, don't you think? Yeah. Let's get a check-up.”

“You okay with being touched?” asks Henrik, shoving some spare paper under his clipboard and writing the date at the top.

Jameson stares down at it.

Up at the doctor, waiting for an answer.

“Well?” asks Henrik, frowning. “You know, you can sign if you want. You haven't since we got you back from Anti. Chase and Jackie took classes in BSL as soon as your video was up. And then I – well, I learned a little later. What do you say, you okay with being touched?”

Jameson nods hastily, his hands rising and then falling again without a word.

“Okay.” Henrik looks him over without meeting his eyes and Jameson squirms under his professional gaze. “You tell me if you start to get uncomfy. Is not a problem. I just want to look you over, okay? Just some questions and a glance at you. I want to have you healthy soon.” He strokes a thumb down Jameson's cheek, and his little brother relaxes to be touched. “I'm here. It's going to be okay. Come on, chin up, let me get a look at you.”

Obedient, Jameson holds his head up.

Jameson is five months old. If Henrik didn't know his own face, he would guess that he was no older than twenty-four, perhaps younger. He's gaunt, the way dying flowers are gaunt. His teal-tint hair is stiff and messed into knots and his eyes are hollowed like too much wet blue paint sank into the paper it was put on. The fervent purple bruising around his throat makes him look like a very sorry little woodstar bird, and he is shaking, shaking, shaking, as he always shakes, shakes, shakes.

In the moment, he looks a great deal like Jack. The open first aid kit makes the bathroom smell like a hospital room.

“I'll be quick,” Henrik promises hoarsely, swallowing back a wave of nausea.

Jameson nods, only a little wary, tilting his head and then, trustingly, reaching out to put a hand on Henrik's shoulder, to keep him steady. To keep them both steady.

His eyes are good, his reflexes quick. All his teeth are there. Henrik asks him some questions about his pain, his immune system, allergies, sleep, and more, but Jameson, in nodding and shaking of his head, reports pretty normally, admitting to a few nightmares and frequent colds but little else. There's only a single scar on his face, a short white line high up on his forehead, hidden by his fringe, and then all the other visible cuts are recent and superficial. He has a bad infection in one ear, but his pain tolerance must be high, because he hardly seems bothered by it, only frowning petulantly up at the doctor when he sticks the otoscope in his ear.

“Good,” says Henrik, relieved. “Okay, could be worse.”

Jameson is nigh on content with Henrik's careful hands running over him. He looks warmly up at his brother and shrugs.

Whatever you say, doc.

Henrik laughs, bewildered by the clarity of his expression. “Yeah,” he chuckles, reaching out to pat the side of his neck. “Yeah, we're okay. Alright. Shirt off, Jamie, let's get a look at you.”

Jameson pauses, touching his shirt.

Survival is a game. He's been asked to make a move, a show of vulnerability that might result in increased health and affection. He calculates.

Trust is dangerous, and Anti warned him about the doctor and his friends. But Anti isn't here, and Jameson needs help.

Jameson needs Henrik.

He removes the shirt.

And anger tastes like blood, blood in Henrik's mouth.

He crushes it between his teeth, tasting the panic and the terror it is well-seasoned with, seething, fighting like a drowning man to keep his head above a trauma flashback or a blank-faced panic attack, because Jameson – Jameson –

Jameson is littered like a Jackson Pollock in red and white. He's covered in lines like cracked glass. He's scarred to hell and back.

And, oh, Henrik recognizes some of these scars – shares some of these scars – the thick pink lines of Anti fully ripping skin away, the short, blackish markings from electric plug-ins shoved against the skin and made painful by the demon's own power, the lean, lovely, terrible white carving from the great silver knife, Anti's favorite.

Above all else, he shares the strings.

Henrik's strings were given to him on a day when he was weak, he remembers that.

They were given to him on a day of despair.

He felt like an animal.

The basement was cold.

Even his blood had gone cold against his flesh.

He was freezing to death.

And he gave up.

Anti came downstairs. Henrik didn't look up, but the surrender was tangible, tangible in Anti's mouth.

He sang.

Something very soft and very sweet and very sad.

A song Henrik used to love.

And he carved delicate lines, white and pure, around Henrik's wrists and ankles.

The blood was warm.

Henrik reaches up and draws back, slow, the sleeve of his own shirt, revealing one of the white string scars.

He knows he should ask his little brother when Anti gave him the strings, how much did they bleed, did he cry, did Anti sing, was he grateful, does he still belong to him?

But Henrik cannot make the words appear.

Cannot bear to know the answer.

He stares at the strings on Jameson’s wrist and at a fifth string scar, carved in a circle around his poor little brother’s heart; he is horrified, sick, frightened, humiliated, tormented, weak, and Jameson is –

Oh, wait, hold up. Henrik blinks. Jameson looks... happy.

Jameson looks excited, delighted, overjoyed.

He lifts up his hands and he signs.

“Shared,” he says, with passion, beaming at him. “We are brothers.”

Henrik stares.

“Shared,” says Jameson again, and then he reaches out and touches his hands.

Reaches out, slow, and touches the pads of his fingers to the rough callouses of his knuckles, runs the smooth surface of his nails against the soft insides of his valleys and ridges, lets his skin drift down the flat bruises of his blue-river veins, and finally finds the smooth raised flesh of the old scars, as though they are sacred.

The movement is slow, uncertain, like he expects to be pushed away, but his touch is warm.

“Brothers,” says Henrik, finding his voice the way a colt finds its legs, and then he nearly chokes, breathing so fast it makes his chest hurt. “Ja, ja, ja – oh, yes, we are, we are brothers. We did share this, didn't we? Didn't we share this suffering? Don't we share these scars, and see – they have yet to destroy us.”

Jameson laughs without noise, his eyes shining. Fuck, he looks like Jack, he looks like Chase. Like Marvin, like Jackie. He looks like brotherhood.

Yes, they shared the same suffering, didn't they? He wonders if Jamie bled like he did, begged like he did, screamed like he did. Starved and wept and tried to kill himself like he did, professed love and hatred intermittently, begged God to kill him like he did, wished Sean had never created him like he did, cried out for his brothers to save him –

He chokes again and coughs and pulls out his stethoscope, and he sets it gently to Jameson's chest, and listens to his heartbeat for a very long time.

After a moment, Jameson sets his chin on Henrik's shoulder and closes his eyes.

Henrik can't fucking breathe.

He takes his blood pressure and cleans up a nasty cut in his stomach and weighs him in the bathroom and checks his head for lice and examines his calcium-deprived nails and he can't fucking breathe, he can't breathe at all, but he doesn't care, he just wants Jameson to be okay, he just wants to keep Jameson healthy –

He lets go of his little brother and sits back on the bed, reaching up to clutch at his hair, rough tears coursing down his face, and Jamie's face twists with alarm. Henrik doesn't know why he thought he could handle this. He can hardly even manage looking at his own scars, and Jameson's are barely different – it might even be worse, to know that he was tortured the way Henrik was tortured, to know that he has been through so much of the same, from starvation to the sickly sweet, overwhelming enslavement of Anti's control, the whispered “I love you” that falls from your mouth when you are weaker than you have ever been –

Jameson has wrapped his arms around him, holding his shoulders and trying to make him meet his gaze, but Henrik is already collapsing, dissolving, unwinding with his terror, choking, choking, suffocating on terror old and new. His wrists are cold-chained again, he can't hear anything but a high-pitched static whine, he is hungry, hungry, dying of thirst, and blood seems to seep from every pore of his white flesh, as medicine oozes through the tube of a bottle.

He can't fucking breathe.

Now doctor, this doesn't have to hurt. Close your eyes and repeat after me.

No, no, no, not the possession, he can't bear – he can't bear it – please –

He was doing so much better before Anti took him. He was doing so much better. He enjoyed his therapy sessions, he never freaked out more than once a week, and he was starting to feel like he might actually have some goddamn control over his life again.

Not anymore.

“I can't do this again!” he cries, his voice shattering halfway through. “No, no, no, I can't fucking go through this again, please, God!”

Sooner or later I'll get in. I always get what I want, brother dear.

He can feel Jameson's terror like a visceral thing, but above it all there is a sweet black burn, familiar and horrifying and wonderful, and he is sinking again, sinking, sinking, sick. Somehow the slow drowning of Anti's power is before his eyes again, within his lungs again, within his brain again, and the distinction between doctor and demon is becoming rapidly more blurred in his addled mind, his time of being a prisoner in his own head rising in his struggling throat.

Repeat after me. Give me strings.

Give – give –

He had fought. He had fought. None of it had mattered.

Give me strings.

And Henrik loses himself.

Withdrawal, withdrawal, withdrawal –

Jameson's hands are holding him.

“Dapper,” Henrik whispers, reaching up to touch his face.

His tear-stained face.

“Oh,” murmurs Henrik, his voice sweet and high-pitched. “I didn't mean to make you cry, puppy.”

Jameson's jaw drops and he stiffens like a corpse. His hands shake. He reaches up, up to his throat. He signs, slowly, unbelieving, an “A” drawn across his bruised throat.

“Anti?” he asks.

And Henrik whispers: “Of course, darling.”

And then, a millisecond later, “No, no, no, I'm not him, he's not here, he's gone, and I – I – oh, puppy, I didn't mean to make you cry.”

Jameson is here, beneath his hands; they're sitting on a bed together and nothing else matters, because he remembers, he remembers. Yes, they were here like this before. The after-effects of Anti's poison make him disoriented, but he remembers. They were here like this before. On the bed, at the motel, sitting together, Dapper so trusting, so naively trusting beneath his hands, torn between love and distress, and he laid him down, set his mouth against his ear –

Henrik takes Jameson's head in his hands, staring blank-faced, apathetic, at the fear, at the confusion in his silver-blue eyes, and then he pushes him gently down onto the mattress. Jameson, his eyes wide with terror, nevertheless goes without protest, yielding and compliant beneath his hands, lying down with his throat bared to the light.

“What am I doing?” whispers Henrik, and then, hatefully: “Disobey me and you will find yourself digging the life out of your own fragile heart. You will always belong to me.”

Jameson cries, but he does not move or struggle.

And his eyes are still warm with love and brotherhood.

Henrik places his cold mouth at the base of Dapper's ear. The command has to be issued. The seed has to be planted, and buried, and drowned. His name is Antisepticeye.

Jameson shrinks away from him.

Henrik jolts, his eyes fluttering, reality appearing too bright around him. For a second he can only choke, his heart moving too fast and too painful for him to breathe. He wonders if he's finally dying.

Reaching up, Jameson touches his shoulders and gently, pleadingly, draws him down away from his ear to look him in the eyes again.

“Oh, I'm s-sorry,” Henrik gasps, his chest heaving hard, an agony. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I – ” He stumbles off Jameson and collapses onto the bed beside him, his nails digging at the scars in his wrists.

All this time, all that he's been through. All it took was one week, and suddenly Anti owns him again.

“No, no, no!” shrieks Henrik, spasming and curling in on himself, tearing at his hair. What the hell is happening to him? What the hell happened that night? “No, he gave you an order! I gave you an order! Oh, God, what did he tell you? Jameson, what did he tell you? I gave you an order! Why can't I remember? Why can't I remember? What did he tell you to do?”

“Please,” Jameson is signing, hovering over him. “Please breathe.”

“I can't go through this again,” Henrik sobs, and shame overwhelms him like a wave on the ocean. “Please, God, please, Jack. Jameson, don't.”

Jamie is trying to hold his hands. He's trying to offer comfort the same way it was offered to him. There's no anger in his eyes and Henrik doesn't understand why.

“I'm sorry,” Henrik cries, trying to push him away. “I'm sorry, I didn't know – go to Chase, please, I can't take care of you – I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Oh, I can't – can't b-breathe.”

But Jameson does not go.

And he stays for the next half-hour, as Henrik works his way through the worst panic attack he's had in months. He weeps and collapses, shudders and stammers, remembers old words of hatred Anti gave to him and tries to tear out his stitches. He falls into a possession flashback two more times, but does not try and touch or speak to his little brother. Jameson sits with him and holds his hands.

“I'm sorry for scaring you,” whispers Henrik, limp on the bed when the worst of it has passed.

“You didn't scare me,” says Jameson.

“I'm sorry for hurting you.”

“You didn't hurt me.”

Henrik looks up and finds neither fear nor anger in his little brother's face.

Just warmth.

He is warmer than blood. Hateless. Loving.

He turns around and picks up Chase's red sleep shirt, tugging it back over his head. And then – still cautious, like he expects to be rejected – he lays down, carefully, warm, on top of Henrik's chest.

Henrik covers his face with one hand, and rubs Jameson's back with the other, and breathes.

No, Jameson is not angry. No, he's not even scared.

He's made his choice.

He loves Henrik.

This is my brother, Jameson decides, closing his eyes. This is my brother and brothers look out for each other no matter what. Brothers keep each other. Protect each other. Save each other.

Henrik falls asleep.

Jameson strokes his fingers along the scars on his wrists. They're lovely. They're shared.

He doesn't know exactly what happened, doesn't quite remember the night Henrik returned to, but something has changed within him. He never believed he would find someone who had been through the things that he had been through, and came out the other side alive, and softer for it. He never believed he would have the chance to live with him. To be his. He dreamed of it, wished for it, hoped with all his heart for it. But he never thought it would happen. Now this person – his person, his brother – is sick. Is scared. Is hurting. For the first time in his life, someone needs him.

And I, Jameson promises, curling up against his chest, and listening to his heartbeat. I will keep my brother safe.

[leowenila]

Shepherd’s Superheroes

Hello! During last season’s hiatus and before posting stories publicly; I wrote this and it might be one of my most favorite (out of my own writings) stories ever! A few days ago I sat down to reread it and make a few changes with more information we have gotten this season. This story is mostly an alternative-universe but mostly it’s a lot of fluffy-comfort with a small portion of angst. This is a long one!! I hope you all enjoy this one as much as I do! PS; if anyone is interested, there is a part two still in my drafts 💗😊

Traveling with an eleven month old proved to be tremendously different to Owen and Amelia than they initially it would be like, once landing, they realized it was totally worth it. The couple did not travel much due to their busy career lives but shortly after Miranda Bailey discussed with the neurosurgeon about having too many vacation days built up; both her and her fiance thought it was the perfect time to go visit and introduce the family she built with Owen, to her family. No matter how many years had passed; she has always missed them in a way that is impossible for her to describe to the average person. Half of Amelia missing her family was due to curiosity over the question of if they would be proud of her new life or not.

Eventually after their plane safely landed and the purchase of their rent-a-car was confirmed; Owen and Amelia along with Leo reached their destination and began walking towards the same red brick building that held countless amount of memories for the neurosurgeon. Once in the building the family stepped into the elevator and rested their backs on the wall, Amelia sighed causing the small boy to giggle at his mom and later causing all three of them to laugh. Watching Owen bounce Leo on his hip bone made the brunette realize that what she found attractive in Owen was drastically different than what she found attractive many years ago; as she was in the same exact elevator.

“Shut up; bitches. I need to get laid. I need to get laid, really bad.” The young brunette shared with the other two women on the elevator- in her true, non-existent filter self. Both Addison and Violet brought their conversation to a pause once hearing Amelia’s declaration. The psychologist grew concerned due to the fact of not knowing the neurosurgeon well.

“So bad that I’m going to run naked through the street and grind a cop, if something doesn’t happen soon. Wouldn’t one of you just lie on top of me and rub around, for like ten minutes.”

Her laughter amplified once the particular memory of her, Violet and Addison after Amelia returned from her Seattle trip. Owen stared at the same beautiful smile he could watch all week long and noticed how truly happy she seemed once breathing in the California air. Choosing not to question her about why her laughter changed, the two walked off the elevator with Leo beside them, towards a blonde receptionist at the desk and allowed the brunette to take charge with the plan she had in mind since sitting on the plane.

“Hello, our son; Leo, has an appointment with Dr. Cooper Freedman for his yearly checkup.” Amelia informed the blonde receptionist that appeared to be new from since her sudden departure from the group nearly six years ago.

With a confused expression upon her face, the receptionist looked up and down her computer screen to find the brunette’s name.

“I’m sorry, but are you positive his name isn’t under a different name? Maybe you are scheduled for a different day or-?” The not-so-friendly but unamused receptionist asked Amelia. Owen watched Amelia for a second before he noticed a small invisible light bulb, lit up inside of her beautiful brain. Knowing his fiancé well, the trauma surgeon took it as a cue before speaking to the blonde in front of him.

“Excuse me; ma’am? Could you please point me in the direction of the restrooms. We had a very long drive and did not think to find a place before arriving.”

The receptionist removed herself from the back of the desk; where she had been sitting and started walking with Owen and Leo, and made their way to the restrooms. Once the woman was gone and Owen’s back was turned, Amelia began to walk back to the familiar area. The area that hasn’t changed a bit. The area that so many memories were made. And that’s when she saw her family.

Deciding to have her identity remain anonymous the brunette kept her dark-shaded sunglasses on her cerulean eyes and slowly walked into the legendary kitchen of Seaside Wellness Group. Every doctor from the practice was enjoying sandwiches that appeared to be catered by a local sandwich shop.

“I was wondering where I could maybe find a doctor?”

“Oh hello; I’m sorry ma’am, but this area is for employees only. The receptionist should be able to point you in the direction of the waiting room.” The familiar and ever-so-kind male psychologist suggested to who he thought was a stranger.

Amelia continued to stand she removed her sunglasses and before she had time to fix her short hair, every person in the room gasped at who was standing in the kitchen across from them. As if on an impulse all of them stopped what they were doing and practically ran over to Amelia.

“Amelia? Amelia Shepherd? What the hell are you doin’ here?” Charlotte asked with her thick southern accent still very present, after hugging her “junkie best friend” tightly and they smiled at one another.

“Vacation! I need a vacation and I thought what better people to visit my favorite people.”

From afar stood her former sister-in-law, grinning ear to ear with tears shining in her electric blue eyes. Addison shook her head once Amelia removed herself from the blonde’s hug, neither one of them moved for a few moments until they couldn’t take a second more apart. Addison wrapped her longer arms around Amelia and held on for longer than she thought she would, the brunette buried her head into Addison’s shoulder and silently started to allow happy tears to pour out of her eyes. After reconnecting with the people Amelia loved the most, she wiped her tears away as Addison escorted her sister towards the sandwiches where she began to enjoy lunch with them just like old times.

“I have to catch up on some charts; but it is so wonderful to see you again, Amelia.” Jake told Amelia as he held several patient charts in one arm and hugged her from the side. Once done hugging him, Amelia returned to the crafting of her sandwich.

Moments later after returning from the restroom with Leo; the trauma surgeon began to wander the hallways of the welcoming practice and noticed a quiet yet beautifully lit, to his left; with the door slightly open already, he made his way inside. Unaware of a unique calmness that coursed through his body, Owen felt guided to walk towards the wall with multiple framed photographs.

“Bradley S. Kramer. Detroit, Michigan

Lucile “Lulu” E. Allen. Los Angeles, California

Sarah G. Tanner. Chicago, Illinois

Gideon T. Yang. Los Angeles, California”

The trauma surgeon read the four names to himself and saw their photographs. Confused as to what and why the four children were standing beside his fiance; Owen slightly jumped upon hearing one of the doctors at the practice he assumed was Addison’s husband based on photos Amelia has shown him in the past.

“That was an incredible day for all of us; but definitely for Amelia.” Jake told Owen as he also focused on the wall in front of the two men, a smile washed over his face as he remembered that day clearly.

“What is this exactly? Why was it such an incredible day?” The dumbfounded trauma surgeon asked the dark haired man with several patient files in between his arm muscle and his side.

“You see this little guy; right here?” Jake pointed to the photograph in the center of the wall; a small baby boy wrapped in a sky blue blanket, held by his mother. His eyes were closed and his body was small and fragile like. Some moments after fixing his eyes on the small baby; Owen noticed the woman holding the baby, none other than Amelia with a giant smile on her face holding her perfect son. The same son she had told Owen that only lived for forty three minutes, several years ago.

“This is Christopher. Amelia’s son. And children like Gideon and Lulu and Bradley are just some of the children he saved because Amelia decided to donate all of his organs so other kids could leave the hospital. He was, or should I say still is her little superhero.”

No words came to the trauma surgeon’s mouth as he remained speechless, a few months ago was one of the first times that Amelia spoke about her son and told Owen his name but she never talked about what had happened after forty three minutes had passed. She told him that she will tell him the rest of the story one day. Jake left Owen with the bright smile on his face after his visit. Removing Owen from his thoughts; the trauma surgeon heard a knock on the glass door, he looked up and saw the brunette.

“That was a spectacular day.” She said as she walked into the office in which used to be Pete’s office, the brunette watched her fiance continuing to look in shock.

“Remember when I ran away because I was afraid to have your baby?” The brunette asked him; without saying a word, Owen shook his head and turned his attention on her to agree with her.

“Well I didn’t only run away to Stephanie’s.. I flew to Los Angeles to be apart of the grand opening of this office, in my happy place. This little boy is my superhero. Each one of these kids are my superheroes.” Amelia told Owen after she hugged him tightly in a place she never imagined she would be with the love of her life. A place from her past but also a place of her present. A state that she considered home. From afar on the couch in the same somewhat large room; Leo watched on has his parents embraced and giggled. Causing all three of them to laugh.

Hope you all enjoyed!