#was like can you get an updated draft to me by wednesday? ^_^ gonna have to tell him no fucking way tomorrow

[davidtennantpussytulpa]

anybody wanna nominate themselves to kill me with hammers?

#somehow the week of spring break is my most incredibly busy week with work. KRILLS MYSELF!! #im on our colony care rotation. im doing my grant experiment that takes 3hrs a day. my TA prof wants me to grade a shitton of stuff. my PI #was like can you get an updated draft to me by wednesday? ^_^ gonna have to tell him no fucking way tomorrow #bc we are also having a fucking forensics meeting #i wanted to go on another bug catching trip with a friend on wednesday but idk if ill be able to now :( #and i wanted to have a wine and cheese night. no fucking way im gonna feel up to hosting that this week #i was supposed to have an appointment this last wednesday. lady cancelled last minute and said how about monday (tomorrow)? and i thought #that would be fine. but i just had to text and be like hey sorry dont think i can #im probably forgetting something too. who fucking knows. #i wanted to clean my room bc its looking like the fucking labyrinth trash lady zone in there but fuck me i dont have the energy to #oh edit from one minute later. just got an email from my prof abt an assignment he wants us to do over spring break in my horrid fucking R #coding class. yeah im killing myself 😁👍🏻

[cowboydisaster]

The Fire In Your Eyes

part II: blackwater i

originally posted on 22 february 2023

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 4k

summary: you start to settle in with the gang, making some friends and some enemies. As you acclimate to your new life, parts of you miss the freedom of solitude, while a new feeling drives you towards companionship.

a/n: chapter two is here! For those of you that missed the post, I will be updating this series with a new chapter every wednesday. I'm super proud of this one. Thanks to @margowritesthings for being my beta reader, biggest supporter, and my ride or die

SERIES MASTERPOST

"The hell did you buy in there anyway? A book?" You ask, trotting closer to Arthur and Boadicea to peek over his reins. There's a little leather bound book in his hands that he angrily stuffs into his satchel. You’ve both just left the general store in Blackwater after picking up some supplies for the good of the camp. You have no money, but Arthur had brought camp funds to purchase supplies for everyone. While in the store, he’d found a small leather bound book, and you’ve been thinking about it since you both left the store.

"Ain't none of your business lady, now let's get back." He huffs, spurring Boadicea into a canter past the old withering Blackwater church. The sound of hooves on dirt is loud as you push the horse, gripping tightly onto the saddle horn for extra stability.

"Well if it's none of my business, you shouldn't have bought it in front of me. That's on you." You counter, curious if Arthur even knows how to read, let alone enjoys it. You’ve only been with the gang for three and a half days, but in that time you’ve been able to observe the other gang members. Mostly, you’ve stuck to yourself, eating and working alone unless Ms. Grimshaw makes you work with the girls. But in that time, all you’ve seen Arthur do is physical labor, like chopping wood, going out on jobs, or planning with Dutch and Hosea. You had wrongfully assumed he’s the type of man who only entertains himself with liquor, women and fighting. Every day you seem to be proving yourself more and more wrong. 

"I bought it in front of you because I have to take you with me. You're like a goddamn pet, take my eyes off ya for a second and you're starting something. Dutch didn’t want you causin’ trouble so he told me to keep an eye on ya." 

Fury bubbles in your chest at the new information. This is about that big ugly bastard, what's his name. The past few days you've spent at their camp all he's done is sleep, drink and annoy everyone. He hasn't changed his sweat stained blue flannel since you've been there, and his big brown draft horse has never left the hitching post. He had made some rather crass comments about Arthur bringing you back and you punched him right in the face for it. Nearly knocked him on his ass. It got an amused chuckle out of Arthur, but the other gang members weren't too pleased about you strutting into their camp and starting fights. He started it, you just finished it. But of course you, the newcomer, are to blame and now you need a babysitter. 

"Gonna keep an eye on me, that's it? What- you're gonna sleep next to my bedroll too? Make sure I don't go out and start beating up the folk, even the ones that need it?" You growl, irritated with Dutch for giving you a chaperone, and at Arthur for being the chaperone. 

"If that's what it takes to keep that damn temper under control then, sure" Arthur laughs.

"I guess I'd rather go buyin' romance novels with you then sittin' back there with some of those fools." You bite, cantering towards the opening of the camp. 

"I- dammit woman, it ain't a book. It's a journal. Lost my old one some months ago in a fire.  I saw this one and I just picked it up..." He says. 

You're utterly shocked. He journals? A new little layer of this big tough outlaw falls away and you can peek into the man inside. He goes around saving women in distress and writes about his feelings? Well shit. 

"Never took you for a writer, Mr. Morgan, but it suits you well. Maybe one day you'll have to let me peek in there, see what goes on in that head a you-" 

You stop in your tracks at the sound coming from camp. It's a rat-like voice with a greasy, nasty vocabulary. He's yelling, harassing someone for something. It's an unfamiliar voice and you spur the buckskin faster after Arthur to find the source. Arthur doesn’t look entirely alarmed, more annoyed, as if he knows the voice. When he sees the worry on your face, he’s quick to respond.

"That's Micah… you steer clear of him, alright?" He asks, to which you don't answer.

As your horses slow, stepping into the camp, you hop down from the saddle, tossing your reins over the hitching post and jog into the open area filled with tents. 

"The hells goin' on now? You've been back five goddamn minutes and your stirrin' up a ruckus." Arthur calls out from beside you. 

A medium height, blonde man with a nasty smile and pale blue eyes turns around, running his fingers over his thick mustache. His red shirt is stained with what you assume to be the beer that he reeks of. It has filled his stomach, giving him a drinker’s gut and painting his nose with red blotches. Just the sight of him has you backing up a few steps.

"Awe, didntcha' miss me, Morgan?" He asks sarcastically, holding his arms out in mock disbelief. 

Arthur sports a deep scowl as he glares at Micah, stepping towards him. It's then that Micah notices you standing beside Arthur. You're much shorter than him, but you hold your chin up high, shoulders pushed back. Micah’s lips curl up in an eerie smile as he runs his eyes over your body.

"Well who might you be, madam?" Micah sneers. Pure anger and aggression pump through your veins as he slowly rakes his eyes over your figure. Then his eyes move around to the people in camp, lingering on Arthur's. 

"She claimed? You Morgan's whore then? Say, you think he'll share you with me?" Micah laughs maniacally, bending back and resting his hands on his gun belt. His blonde hair is filthy, his teeth even more so, everything about this man repels you. He's a snake, a shifty rat and you can see it from a mile away. 

"I ain't no one's whore." You squint, wishing to just take this bastard out and be done with it. 

"Careful, Micah. She'll tear you a new one." Arthur warns, seemingly hoping that you will. God, he would love to watch you beat the shit out of Micah. He'd pay to.  

Micah seems to be amused by this, laughing loudly and glancing around the camp to see if anyone heard Arthur. He doesn't believe for a fraction of a second that you could best him.

"I ain't afraid of an itty bitty lady," Micah steps forward, glancing down over you before shifting his eyes and addressing Arthur,

"She'd look real pretty on her knees for me, wouldn't she Ar-"

You knee him as hard as you can, right in the groin, causing him to bend at the waist and groan in pain. 

"Y-You bitch!" He yells, right before you slip a pair of metal knuckles that were in your pocket over your fingers and punch him square in the cheekbone. The knuckles cut up his face, blood trickling down his cheek before he falls over, completely knocked out cold. You're a small woman, but with some little adjustments, you're stronger than the men. You slip the knuckles off, sliding them back into your pocket and tapping them for good measure.

"Tried to warn the bastard…" Arthur sighs, grabbing Micah by the feet and dragging him towards the outskirts of camp where he'll probably wake up later. You realize that you'd gained a bit of a crowd, blushing as you look around and see several pleased faces. You remember most of their names. The red haired Irishman, Sean steps over to you, proudly slapping you on the back with a huge grin. 

"Ha! Ya knocked him right on his ass ‘tere! So much for an itty bitty lady, eh?"

A blonde haired woman, a little taller than you comes over with a big smile. She’s under the arm of a young gang member, you think Lennys his name. 

“Well I’ll be damned! Hell yeah, It's good to see another badass woman around here, I was gettin’ tired of puttin’ all the boys in their place.” She laughs, pulling Lenny behind her and moving forward to hand you something. It's a five dollar bill, and you reach out to take it, confused. 

“We had a bet that someone was gonna knock him out soon as he got back. Entertaining us with a show like that? You deserve it. I’d do anything to see that bastard get put down by a lady.”

You smile up at her, nodding to the stranger as you place the bill in your pocket. 

“I'm Jenny by the way. Say, you're new as a shiny penny, figures these boys can't control themselves. Buncha assholes, especially Micah. He gets his fill of torture from all of us though, don't you worry miss." Jenny smiles at you, her blonde hair frames her freckled face beautifully. 

"You wanna come officially meet the girls? We can get you set up, get you a tent and some new clothes. Figure you wanna get away from Mr. Morgan over there for the day, he's a sour bastard." Jenny yells the last part in Arthur’s direction so that he can hear. 

“You’ll hear no argument from me on that account, ma'am.” Arthur quips, dropping Micah into the woods,

You eye Lenny and Jenny, a little unsure. It's hard for you to trust people, especially other outlaws but they seem kind enough. You turn your neck around to see Arthur, the only one you've really interacted with besides the two men you knocked out, and then you look back to Lenny and Jenny. They're both young and bright eyed, hopeful. It's a change you're grateful for, albeit not used to. What could be the harm?

"Alright then, the girls…" You whisper nervously. You've seen a few other women walking through the camp in the past four days, and they've eyed you with curiosity but none made a move to interact with you. You'll never show it but you're a bit nervous. You keep to yourself for the most part. You've had to because you have no one else. But that's changing. 

You follow the two past a few tents, and to a wagon with a few boxes sitting around to be used as chairs. Wolf pelts and blankets are stacked into a makeshift bed on the ground under a hanging canvas. As you take in the little details of the camp, you don't miss the way Jenny and Lenny's hands intertwine, and you smile for it. It's apparent that someone has been through a lot of effort to make the camp homey. Fluffy pelts line the seats and chairs, beautifully decorated animal skulls top some of the tents and each person’s designated area is filled with their personal preferences and belongings. Pictures and books line the little tables and crates around the place and boxes of beer and whiskey as well. It really is a home. 

There's a wagon with canvas material making a little lean to, and under it sit three girls. The first one to notice you has short blonde hair and a contagious smile. There's wonder in her eyes, and optimism. 

"Well hi! We was wonderin' when we'd get to meet you, we could barely hold back from goin' over there but we didn't wanna push ya! Say, you’ve been here just four days and you’ve already knocked down the two biggest bastards here. First Bill and now Micah? I like you already!" The blonde haired girl says before adding, "Oh, I'm Karen by the way. And this is Marybeth and Tilly.” She adds, pointing towards the other girls who smile and wave coyly. The girl furthest from you with dark colored skin and braided hair that collects into a low bun, Tilly, speaks up.

“Don’t be shy, we don’t bite. Well Karen does, but only when Ms. Grimshaw comes around. Doesn’t seem like you’ll be dealing much with her though. You gonna run with the men like Jenny here?” Tilly asks, nodding towards Jenny. You notice the contrast in their attire. Tilly, Marybeth and Karen are wearing dresses, apparently you and Jenny are the only two women who work out of camp. You haven't thought much about what your role will be in the camp though.

“Uh, yeah I guess I will be. I haven’t thought about it much though, just gettin’ here and all…And I’m only stayin’ till I'm back on my feet, so I’ll do whatever needs done till I get enough money to head somewhere else.” You mumble, looking down to your raggedy clothes. The girls grow a little quiet, sensing your dilemma before Jenny speaks up. 

“Well for now, you’re stuck with us! C’mon, we’ll get you some new clothes and have Ms. Grimshaw set you up a tent. I assume you’ll want a tent by Arthur, y’know with him bringing you in and all.”

— —

By nightfall you have three new pairs of jeans, two black and one blue, four new shirts, dark green, white, black and red, and a brand new pair of boots. They’ve accommodated you well, and you try not to think about your growing debt to the gang. 

Your tent is nicer than anything you’ve had for a long while. It's a white canvas ‘A frame’ tent with a nice sized cot, a wardrobe and a nightstand. The girls have given you some blankets and items to decorate around the place and it looks good, it’s rather cozy. Currently you sit cross legged on the cot, writing in your journal. The soft glow of candlelight alongside the campfires outside provide enough light for you to write without straining your eyes. It's a beautiful night, and owls hoot as warm wind blows across the Great Plains, it's a perfect moment. 

It’s the fourth day I've been here, but today was different. I met Jenny, and she introduced me to a few others. She’s a lot like me. Jenny doesn’t follow the rules, she makes her own way. I admire her for that. And Arthur? Well, I haven't  seen much of him. He’s been working on some big job with Dutch, and they’re keeping it real quiet. Oh, and he journals too, he picked one up in town today. Never thought a man such as himself would take to journaling. There’s a heart in there somewhere, deep down as it may be. I guess he’s like me in that way…

You startle at the sound of a knock against the beam of your tent. You jump a little, reaching down to your holster before you realize it’s only Arthur. 

“Shit, sorry. You scared the hell outta me. Ain’t used to livin’ with other people.” You laugh, folding your journal shut and tucking your pen into the book’s spine. Arthur is leaning against the tent beam with two bowls in hand, it looks like he’s washed up, probably in the lake or the river, but he's wearing a clean black stand collar shirt and a new pair of jeans. His wet hair drips a little, and the smell of soap travels to your nose.

“You’ll get used to it. Here, I brought ya some dysentery.” Arthur jokes, holding out a bowl of Pearson’s stew to you. You take it, grateful for it even though it tastes awful. 

“Thanks. Here, come sit, keep me company.” You scooch to the other side of your cot, once again sitting cross legged. 

“Well I ain’t no good company miss, I can promise you that, but sure.” 

Arthur sits down on the cot, and it dips under his weight. He watches you out of the corner of his eye for a moment, then glances at your book while you both eat. 

“So what were you writin’ in that book a’ yours?” Arthur asks, nodding towards your leather journal.  

You crack a smile, prodding at the mushy soup with your spoon. 

“You really wanna know? I'll show you mine, but you gotta show me what's in yours.” You offer with a raised eyebrow. Arthur’s cheeks glow a little red and he scratches at the back of his neck.

“Well I just got it today, and I ain’t put much in it yet.” Arthur says a little awkwardly. You take note of his embarrassment, and make a mental note to peek the next time he has it out.

“So how's it been so far? The camp I mean. Everyone treatin’ you well? I'm sure you’ll give ‘em hell if they don’t.” Arthur asks, looking to you, before bringing the metal bowl up to his lips and drinking down the broth left over in the bowl. You can’t help the smile that brightens up your features while you nod. 

“It’s been good. Jenny’s real nice, I like her a lot. All the girls are kind too. I ain’t talked to much of anyone else, well besides Micah, is he alright by the way?” You ask, hoping you didn’t kill him. You don’t really care if the bastard is dead or not, but killing him on your fourth day in the gang would not help your chances of getting along with Dutch. 

“I think he left for a while, didn’t wanna come back and be the camp idiot for gettin’ beat up by a little lady-” He starts before you interject. 

“I ain’t a little lady.” You bite. Arthur chuckles, putting his hands up in mock surrender. He disagrees, you are a little lady, but he also wants to keep his head. 

“Whatever you say, miss. I'm partial to keepin’ your fists far away from this old mug,'' Arthur's smile falters for a moment, and he looks over to you with sincerity, “but I'm glad to hear you’re settlin’ in alright.”

You nod, unsure of how to respond as you extend your arm to place the empty stew bowl on your nightstand. Arthur takes it out of your hand instead, standing up and stacking your dishes on top of his own. 

“Well I’ll leave you to it, I don’t wanna take up anymore of your time,” He tips his head to you, “Goodnight miss.”

“G’night Arthur.” You watch his back as he leaves your tent and returns your dishes back to Pearson’s table. 

You think of him as you dress down and tuck yourself into bed. It’s been a long time since you’ve enjoyed someone’s company. He intrigues you. There's so many layers to Arthur Morgan, and you find yourself wanting to peel them back and discover the man at heart. You toss and turn in your bed, angrily fluffing your pillow and tearing your blankets off of your bare legs just to pull them back on again. Despite the new bed, and the tent, you find yourself  longing for the freedom of the grass, you miss the stars. 

With a sigh, you reach down onto the grass below your bed and grab your boots. You swing your legs over the edge and pull them on, not bothering to dress yourself half decent. The shirt you’re wearing is a man’s, it's huge on you, but Jenny figured it would make a good night shirt. The white shirt swallows your figure as you step out of your tent and into the night. Everyone has gone to bed already as you tiptoe to the outskirts of camp. There's a dark forest at the edge, and maybe it's your exhaustion, but you find it enticing. You walk through the grass, wishing that you could feel it on your feet. It’s only been four days, but dammit, you miss the freedom. Solitude can be a beautiful thing, you’ve found out. And even though you’re glad to have been saved by the gang, parts of you ache to return to the wilderness. 

You slip your cowboy boots off, abandoning them on the ground between you and Arthur’s tent. They slump to the ground, spurs clicking as they hit the floor, and you step into the trees.

You pick wildflowers, humming and singing to yourself as you pluck their stems from the earth and add them to your collection. The breeze is warm and it flutters through your hair. A few times you feel eyes on you, but you dismiss them as animals lurking in the night. Some find the woods as eerie and unknown, but they’ve always been your home. You make a little bouquet of wildflowers, they're all different colors and sizes, and you hold them up to your nose and inhale that deep, specific scent. Lastly, you lay back on the grass, holding the flowers in your hands and look up to the stars. 

“A coach and six white horses,”

You twirl a poppy between your fingers, bringing it up to your nose before you continue singing,

“Blacks and bays, dapples, and grays,”

 You bring your knees up, crossing your legs as your hair splays out in the grass.

“All the pretty little horses…”

You’ve always been on your own, and this will be hard. Acclimating to a new place, with new people, and handing your control over to a new leader, all of it has you nervous, uneasy. You’re not sure how long you’ll stay. A part of you, the part that led you into the forest, begs for your freedom back. And yet a new feeling piques your interest as well, and it scares you. You look up at the constellations, tracing the big dipper with your eyes and grounding yourself with the familiarity. This new pull… it’s dangerous. You’ve distanced yourself from others for a reason, and yet here you are, breaking all of your rules.

—

Arthur’s eyebrows draw together as he leans up on his elbows in his cot. He’s been unable to sleep tonight, too distracted with the Blackwater job, and with you to get some shut eye. He’s stirred up by some quiet click noises, followed by some shallow singing. The song reaches his ears and immediately he recognizes it. It's “All the Pretty Little Horses,” a lullaby his momma used to sing to him when he was a kid. There’s some emotion there that he pushes down, sitting up to peek out of the open tent. 

And there you are. 

Arthur's smile is bittersweet as he watches you, laying in the grass in nothing but a goddamn shirt. Because of course you're the type to pick flowers, barefoot in the dead of night. Of course you’re the type to sing to the stars. He chuckles to himself, and doesn’t even think about it as he grabs his empty journal that he’d bought in the morning. He rests the leather book against his knee, leaning over to grab his pencil off his nightstand. As he does so, his eyes collide with the framed picture of Mary. Arthur sighs, gently grabbing the corner of the frame and tipping it so the picture lays face down. 

“Long time ago now…” Arthur whispers, lingering over the photo for a moment before grabbing his pencil. 

He doesn’t think, he just draws, starting with your legs that are crossed over each other, your torso and the flowers in your hand, and then your face and hair as you look up to the stars. He hums along lowly with your singing as he finishes up his sketch. There’s an incredible amount of detail to the picture, and he tries not to think about why that is as he adds a note to his sketch. 

She’s a lot like the stars in a way, I’ve realized. A force, fiery and burning as a flame, not to be reckoned with. She’s got no ties, she’s on her own. And yet she’s kind, singing and picking flowers in the middle of the damn night. She's something else, that woman. 

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x y/n #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 #red dead redemption two #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic

[study-coffee-chicago]

Halstead Headcanons Pt. 5

A/N: I wanted to write a Halstead Thanksgiving imagine and I also had a headcanon where Halstead sister chokes sitting in my drafts. Since they're both pretty short, I decided to combine them into another installment of Halstead Headcanons.

Enjoy!

Thanksgiving:

You anxiously looked at the forecast for the third time this hour. But, at this point, you knew it was no use. It was currently Monday morning and a snowstorm had hit Chicago late last night. Seeing as your 9 am Monday class was the only class that hadn't been canceled this week, you planned to leave right after class and make the eight-hour drive from Kansas City to Chicago, and planned to get back home around 9 pm at night. You, Will, and Jay had been discussing this possibility of you not coming home since last Thursday when the storm had been forecasted.

You sighed and looked at all you stuff that you had lined up in the hallway of your apartment, right beside your door. You figured maybe they'd be wrong, so maybe you'd be able to leave today...it wouldn't be the first time meteorologists had been wrong.

You dialed Will's number and put your phone on speaker as you started to make your coffee.

"Hey, kiddo," he answered.

"I can't come home. It's supposed to keep snowing and there's accidents everywhere when I get about two hours from home and--"

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Will said.

"But it's not! I wanna come home for Thanksgiving, Will!"

"And you will. Thanksgiving's on Thursday. It's only Monday. You can always make the drive on Wednesday if it clears up."

"But what if it doesn't!"

"Hey, don't think like that. The plows will be out soon and then we'll go from there, okay?"

You sniffled. "Okay."

"Now, get ready for class and me and Jay will keep you updated on the road conditions. Sound good?"

"I guess," you answered.

"If there's one thing I know about Chicago weather is that it's unpredictable, so think positive."

"Yeah. I'm gonna go now. I'll text Jay and tell him I won't be coming home today. He's probably gonna call me in the next thirty minutes, too."

"Good idea. Have a good day, kiddo. And, there's still three days until Thanksgiving, so don't stress."

"Easier said than done."

***

Wednesday, 7 am

Jay stood in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Then, he looked outside. It wasn't snowing as hard, but after one quick look at the traffic and road conditions online, he knew most of the roads were still glare ice. There was no way you could make the drive back.

"Morning," Hailey said. She grabbed a mug from the cupboard. "Roads not looking any better?"

"No. I don't know what to do, Hailey. I don't want her to miss Thanksgiving, but it's not safe for her to drive. I mean, we could try to go there later in the day, but with traffic and everything..."

"We wouldn't get there until the middle of the night," Hailey finished.

Then his phone buzzed. It was a text from Will. There was also a picture attached.

Train tickets? the text read with a picture of train tickets that left at 9:30 am and got into Kansas City around 5 pm.

"Don't tell my brother I said this," Jay began, "but he's a genius." Hailey furrowed her eyebrows and Jay passed her his phone. "The Amtrac is still running."

Hailey smiled. "Nine-thirty, huh? Guess we better start packing."

***

You curled up on your bed. Even though it was only 6 pm, it was dark. And, hey, maybe you'd sleep for over 24 hours and could sleep through Thanksgiving. You and Jay had talked this morning and he told you it still wasn't safe for you to drive home. He said that if he could drive out, he would. But, even he knew it was unsafe to drive long distances in this weather.

You were just about to turn your phone on silent and put it in sleep mode when a call came through. It was from Jay.

"Yeah?" you asked while you held back tears.

"Come to your window. We're outside."

"What? Jay, I think I heard you wrong."

"Just, come look out your window," he repeated.

"You're scaring me. I'm not gonna go look outside without knowing what I'm gonna see. It's dark outside! Is there a serial killer near me? Is that why you want me to look outside? I didn't get an emergency alert or anything!"

"Y/N, nothing's wrong. But, the Amtrac was still running and we rented a car when we got down here and--"

"You're here?!" you exclaimed and jumped out of bed and ran to your window.

You quickly peeked through the blinds and sure enough, there were Jay, Will, and Hailey standing in front of a small, blue rental car, the headlights illuminating them.

Your face lit up. "I'm coming down!"

Then, you hung up your phone and quickly threw on a hoodie over your t-shirt and slipped your feet into your shoes, not caring if the sweatpants you were wearing had a little stain on them.

You ran from the walking gate to the parking lot. "How did you guys...Scratch that! When did you guys think this up?"

Jay pulled you into a hug. "Ugh, missed you, kid. Morning's aren't the same without you trying to steal my coffee."

"You loved it," you joked.

"And, to answer your question," Will started and you gave him a hug, "It was my idea."

"Jay even went so far as to call him a genius," Hailey supplied.

"I told you not to tell him that," Jay muttered.

"Oops, must've been all the drinks I had on the train."

"You didn't even—" Jay cut himself off with a sigh. "Forget it. Happy wife, happy life."

"Glad I wasn't on that train," you muttered.

"Wasn't too bad," Will said. "If you had headphones."

"You're an ass," Jay said.

"Well, this ass was the one who had the idea to get Amtrac tickets."

"So, you're a smart ass then?"

"C'mon you guys," you said, trying your best to stop their bickering. "Grab your stuff. Let's get inside and then we can order from the pub across the street."

"Sounds good to me," Will said. "I gotta try that fried chicken sandwich you're always talking about."

***

"Holy shit," Will said after he took his first bite of the fried chicken sandwich. "You weren't kidding."

"I think this is one of the best things I've ever tasted," Jay agreed.

Then, Hailey quickly reached over and stole the other half of her husband's sandwich.

"Hey!"

"I wanna try it!" Then she took a bite. "You guys are right, this is really good!"

Then, she gave Jay his sandwich back and dipped her five cheese grilled cheese that she'd gotten in her bowl of tomato soup.

"So, what are we doing for Thanksgiving tomorrow?" you asked.

"Shit. I didn't that far ahead," Will said.

"Can't get a turkey now, wouldn't thaw in time," Hailey said. "They'd probably be sold out anyway."

You stood up and started looking through your fridge. "Let's see...I have eggs, bread, milk, a bunch of condiments, wraps..." you continued listing off what you had in your fridge, freezer, and cupboard. "I probably have the stuff for sweet potato casserole, mashed potatoes, broccoli, and we can do sandwiches instead of turkey. Oh! I can also make these apple butter cinnamon rolls I've made a couple times when I have friends over."

"We can probably find rolls somewhere in the morning," Jay supplied. "And maybe some carrots somewhere for cooked carrots."

"I can make spanikopita if I can find the ingredients tomorrow," Hailey said.

"And I'll find the wine aisle tomorrow," Will said.

"Or Trulys. We can always have those," you suggested. "The tropical pack, though."

Will rolled his eyes. "Of course you'd suggest that."

"So, me and Will will go to the store tomorrow morning and you can make the cinnamon rolls. Hails, what do you need for the spanikopita?"

Hailey then told Jay what she needed and he wrote it down on his phone. Then, the four of you continued eating and thinking about everything you needed to do tomorrow.

***

"Morning, sleepy head," Hailey greeted when you woke up the next morning. She was standing at the stove making eggs, a cup of coffee sitting on the counter next to her. "Want some eggs?"

"Oh, you don't have to make me any. I can cook for myself," you answered.

"I know you can cook for yourself. But, I'm already cooking, so if you want some, I can make you some."

"Okay," you answered. "Thank you."

"No problem."

You went back to your room and grabbed the current book that you were reading.

"Here you go," Hailey said a few minutes later and handed you a plate of eggs and toast along with a cup of coffee.

"Thanks, Hails."

"You're welcome. Hey, you mind if I steal a book from you to read?"

You shook your head. "Go right ahead," you answered. "I'd highly recommend The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue."

"Alright, I'll read that one then."

Then, the two of you ate your breakfast and read your books and you had a quiet morning with your sister-in-law before you started cooking.

***

Six hours later, the grilled sandwiches were made and all the sides and the cinnamon rolls and wine were on the counter. There was a Blackhawks game on your tv since none of you watched the game that they played yesterday. And, even though it wasn't the Thanksgiving you had in mind, your brothers and Hailey still made it one to remember.

END

Choking:

Request from anon on tumblr: Hey can you pls do a story of like the Halstead siblings with y/n Halstead (their sister) and they are at dinner and she starts choking and they like save her and she passes out and worries them

A/N: The age in this one is first grade.

For Jay and Will, grades had always been something important...well, Will a bit more so than Jay. But, they were important nonetheless and they had instilled that in you. Because of this, you were super excited to show Jay your report card after school because you had gotten all As (the A in math could definitely be attributed to your brothers going over subtraction flashcards with you almost every day). So, Will sent a quick text telling him to meet the two of you at Applebees because that's where you wanted to go for dinner. And, if you got all As (or all As and Bs, but you didn't know about the B part, which was between Jay and Will), you got to go wherever you wanted that night for dinner. Tonight, you chose Applebees.

"Will!" you exclaimed when you saw him while waiting for your table. "I got all A's!"

"I heard!" Will said, matching your enthusiasm. "You might be smarter than me!"

You quickly shook your head. "Nuh-uh."

"And what makes you say that, missy?"

"Because you a doctor!"

"Well...you're definitely smarter than Jay."

"Hey!" Jay yelled, faking offense.

"You did mess up that subtraction problem that day," Will reminded him.

"I had been up for over 24 hours!"

They quickly stopped their petty bickering when Jay's name was called for their table.

***

Half an hour later, you were eating your chicken tenders and fries while your brothers ate their food.

You swallowed a big bite and felt it get stuck a bit, so you took a sip of water. It still wouldn't go down and you still had the water in your mouth!

You started to cough and the water spewed out of your mouth.

Jay saw your red face and quickly started hitting your back, trying to get the food to come out.

"Keep coughing, Y/N," Will told you as he stood up and got right next to you.

You did three big coughs and still nothing.

Will crouched down next to you. "Y/N, I'm gonna get this out."

Your head was starting to feel weird, so whatever Will said, you didn't hear him. But, the next thing you knew, you felt hands wrap around your belly and then you felt yourself go forward and then back quickly and then then the big piece of chicken tender came flying out of your mouth and hit the spot in the booth where Will had previously been sitting.

You gasped for air.

"You okay, kiddo?" Jay asked and ran a hand through your hair.

You shook your head and buried your face in his chest.

"I'll go get the bill and order a milkshake for her to go," Will said and stood up.

Jay nodded and just continued to hold you.

"No more chicken and fries!" you told him.

"It's okay," he said. "You don't have to finish them. Will's gonna get you your milkshake and pay and then we're gonna go home. Does that sound okay?"

You nodded.

No more chicken tenders for you!

***

The next day when you came home from school, Jay inspected your lunch box and saw that all you had eaten out of it, was your juice box. It had taken a bit of coaxing last night to get you to drink your milkshake, but they finally got you to drink it by explaining that you didn't have to chew.

He walked into your room to see you grabbing some stuffed animals, presumably bringing them out into the living room to play with.

"Are you feeling okay, kiddo?" Jay asked and crouched down to your height and handed you your stuffed cat.

"Uh huh," you told him, even though your head felt funny.

"You sure? You didn't eat your lunch today."

He put a hand to your forehead. You didn't feel warm.

"Wasn't hungry," you answered.

At that, your stomach growled.

"Well, you're hungry now. How about you come eat your sandwich or Goldfish, alright? Your animals can come with you, too."

At this, you started to cry. You were scared, you felt funny, and you were hungry.

"No!" you wailed. "Just juice! I want juice!"

"Why just juice, Y/N? Why don't you want Goldfish? You love Goldfish."

"Don't want Goldfishies cause they get stuck. Like the chicken nugget!"

"No. They won't," Jay reassured you.

"How you know?"

Jay thought for a second. How could he make a first-grader understand this.

Then, a lightbulb went off in his head.

"C'mere. I gotta show you something," Jay told you.

You followed him out of your room—arms full of stuffed animals—and into the kitchen. He grabbed an empty cardboard toilet paper roll from the recycling bin and set that on the counter. Then, he grabbed a piece of bread from the fridge.

He held up the empty toilet paper roll. "This is like your mouth, okay?" You nodded. He crumpled up the piece of bread. "And pretend this is the chicken nugget you ate last night."

"But that's not a chicken nuggy! That's bread!"

Jay smiled. "I know that. But just pretend. Just like when you pretend you're a princess."

"Okay!"

"When you put a big piece of food in your mouth, like this–" Jay tried his best to shove the piece of bread into the empty roll. "--it gets stuck," he finished. "Then, someone has to help you get it out." With a little effort, Jay managed to squeeze the piece of bread out. "Like this. That's what happened to you last night and then Will had to help you get it out."

"Uh-huh," you agreed.

Jay then proceeded to rip the bread into little pieces. "But, when the food is smaller, it doesn't get stuck. See?" He fed a few pieces of bread through the empty roll and then let them fall out the other side and onto the table. "Then they go into your tummy. You just need to make sure the food is small and chewed up."

"I just gotta bite my chicken nuggies and then they don't get stuck anymore?" you asked with a curious look on your face.

"And chew them good," Jay confirmed.

"Can I have chicken nuggies now? And Goldfishes?"

Jay laughed. In a normal scenario, he wouldn't let you have both chicken nuggets and Goldfish; he'd make you eat your sandwich that was leftover from your lunch. But, seeing as you've barely eaten today, he figured one time wouldn't kill you.

"I think we have some Dino nuggies somewhere."

You gasped excitedly. "You got me the Dino ones?"

"I did. Now, how about you and your animals go sit down and I'll bring them to you, okay?"

You did as Jay suggested and went and sat down, putting your stuffed animals on the other chairs at the table.

And, when Jay told Will about everything and how he convinced you to eat with that demonstration, Will told him that he could be a science teacher. Of course, Jay had laughed and told him no way. You were more than enough. He didn't think he could deal with twenty of you.

END

A/N: Thanks for reading! Don't forget to reblog and comment!

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @911ls-tarlos @iamasimpingh0e @i-like-sparkly-things @herecomesthewriterwitch @liampayne88 @glitterquadricorn @luvreading67 @smoothdogsgirl @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @actlikesummerr @lcothr523 @star-wars-lover

#jay halstead #will halstead #hailey upton #upstead #chicago pd #chicago med #halstead sister #imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #jay halstead imagine #will halstead imagine #jay halstead fanfiction #will halstead fanfiction #jay halstead fanfic #will halstead fanfic #writer #writing #my writing

[naranjapetrificada]

Happy [Fanfic] Friday!

Unfortunately I missed WIP Wednesday, mostly because this has not been the best writing week I've ever had. We've had unconscionably few days of sunlight in my area for the past several days, which always makes being productive in any capacity a real chore. It also makes negative thinking easier for me, and I didn't want to bring that kind of energy to my drafts because writing is something I have profound baggage around. I made very small amounts of progress on Chapter 3 (which is better than no progress), and my working draft has about 1900/<8000 words I'm trying to aim for. Now that the sun is back I'm hoping for work to pick up again though ☀️😎🤞

Anyway let's talk about recs!

Last week I got sucked right into Fast Car by smallestchurch, who you can always trust to put out bangers. But since there are only two chapters I decided to check out some other things to scratch that itch while we wait (patiently!) for the next update.

- All I Want for Christmas is... and A Little Bit of Love Goes a Long Long Way by @tresdem

Naturally I went looking for fics where Ed and Stede meet when they are much, much younger. And wouldn't you know it, one of my absolute favorite writers in the fandom has a newish series about them meeting around their college years, during a serendipitous snowing-in at a hotel. Stede needs music for a party where he plans to propose to Mary, Julliard student Ed gets tricked by Jack into showing up, and oh the delicious drama and tension that ensue!

The first fic has a bittersweet ending and the second fic, where they accidentally reunite a couple years later, still has one chapter to go. Much like Fast Car, it looks like this series will be following them through their adult lives as they try, with extremely mixed success, to find ways to be together and survive being apart. I can't wait to see what's next for them.

- Not Pickles by smallestchurch

Not surprisingly another great source for fics to scratch a smallestchurch itch is right there in her backlog. So I decided to catch up on some of her longer stuff that I hadn't read yet, and omg this has been a delight. I still have one chapter left but I'm kind of putting it off because like so many of the best stories, I know I'm gonna miss everyone (except Jack and Izzy lol) when I'm done.

That's all for now! Happy Friday and happy weekend! ☺️

#fanfic friday #fic writing #writing process #writing woes #fast car #made for you (series) #modern au #childhood friends au #ofmd fanfic #fic recs #from the firmament #ofmd #our flag means death #edward teach #stede bonnet #gentlebeard #blackbonnet

[authoralexharvey]

ASMLP Accountability - Update 9

Intro || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight

We are four chapters from the end. Not gonna lie, I had a lil bit of a breakdown yesterday because I am,,, so intensely busy lately. Between this and insurance school and wedding planning and having a life... Man am I tired.

Anyway. Did you know you can read the current draft of ASMLP right now for free? Three websites, three ways to read. We’re up to chapter 16, with chapter 17 coming next Wednesday. Unless you feel like subbing to my Patreon, in which case you can read chapter 17 right now to help tie you over.

Wattpad || Royal Road || ScribbleHub

Which reminds me: If you sub to my Patreon, you get advanced chapters of ASMLP before everyone else! You also get access to some short stories I have released for sale, and I'm planning on starting a sort of "behind the scenes" series for my top-tier patrons soon. If you like my writing, it's worth checking out.

But enough of rambling. Let's talk stats.

Chapters Done: 18/22

Current Chapter: 18 (Nadia’s)

Excerpt:

She stills, planting her hands under her rear to stop the aching. It will have to do. Settled, Nadia’s gaze flicks from Doctor Aiza to the man sitting next to her. Fresh leather patches cover the points of his elbows. His jawline is sharp enough to chip glass. He adjusts his glasses, stopping at once when he notices her appraising him.

“Who is this?” Nadia asks, swinging her legs. She’s not quite tall enough for her feet to touch the floor. She can’t remember the last time her circumstances have made her feel so childish.

Doctor Aiza’s rapid blinks betray her surprise. Then, clipboard held close to her chest, “This is Professor Darzi.”

Nadia adjusts her position once again. Simone has mentioned him before. “I thought your specialty was Glyph design,” she says. For once, the scorn dripping from her voice is unintentional.

Professor Darzi’s head tilts. “I-it is,” he replies, tugging at his lavender scarf. It contrasts well with his skin, as warm and wrinkled as oak bark. And the voice. Etienne’s type of man, for certain.

“Then why are you here?”

ASMLP Taglist (Ask to be added): @magic-is-something-we-create , @wildswrites , @chishiio , @broodparasitism , @writeblrsupport , @original-writing @artcoffeecats , @kingsinking , @comicgoblinart , @asterhaze , @linaket , @arigalefantasynovels ,

#writeblr #my writing #writing community #fantasy #lgbtq #asmlp #nadia dupont #alex has the floor

[mckinleyrp]

it's almost the weekend! happy thursday, members! i was originally gonna post this on wednesday, but i accidentally deleted my entire post and i didn't want to have to redo it, oops. but i'm just here to give you all a little admin update with the group.

i am continuing to update our masterlist as well as our extracurriculars/sport pages, so please give it a look to make sure things are all correct. we are still in need of captain/co-captions of the new directions, the troubletones, duly noted, and junior varsity. if anything, we might find some leader roles for our mattress episode 1x12, just in time for club photos. if your character is a captain or has a specific role in our athletics, please shoot me a message through discord or through here. i have added more characters to our masterlist, such as members from dalton academy. our main cast is filling up quickly, so i am opening more roles in case anyone wants to snag a secondary characters. please let me know if there's something you'd like added to the main so i can make it available for all of you. click the read more below to read some important details of the group.

future plans as of this week:

i'm planning on making a list of locations in lima ( ex. breadstix, the lima bean, rinky dinks, etc. ) to reference to in case you happen to do private paras and such! and speaking of paras, feel free to do 1 on 1's with other characters to stir up some drama. and something i'm looking forward to that i think will be tons of fun is doing a "that's what you missed on..." post. it'll just give you guys a recap of the week, catching you up on all the fun connections you guys made and seeing how our redo of each episode ends up being. it'll be posted every sunday! i am also planning either every friday or saturday to do a meme/prompt day! in the next week or two, we will be hosting our first event at mckinley! the plot is currently in development, so hopefully we'll have some new friends come our way in the meantime.

a few reminders:

activity checks will perform every monday! if you haven't posted for 6+ days, you will be removed. you will be given a warning if you haven't posted anything in 4-5 days. i ask that everyone replies to each and every starter, just so people don't get left out. if you need a hiatus, don't hesitate to come and ask me. you are not required to answer questions and/or send questions every day. you can queue them or even save them in your drafts to post later. after sending in your account, don't forget to turn your askbox and anonymous on. we would love to send some questions in but can't do so unless it's on. after sending your account in, you have another 48 hours to make a post or at least reply to 2 other starters. if you happen to be busy, please let me know.

#glee rp #wmacadmin

[andromedaexists]

WUPDATE: CALL ME ICARUS

𝚆𝚎𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝙰𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝟸𝟺𝚝𝚑

<I am working on transferring my old writing to this new blog. In an attempt to not over-saturate my taglist, I will be scheduling these for every other day until I am up to date. If you would prefer I remove you from the tag list until this transfer is complete, please let me know!>

I think imma start doing regular WIP updates on Wednesdays. Writing this book has absolutely become a hyperfixation and I feel like I always have something to share!

This week, I finished the first draft for chapter 2 of Call Me Icarus! We have bumped up to 17 pages, or 4,593 words. Once again, these will become longer as I make the second draft, as I have a hard time with filling all the details of each scene because my brain is always too far ahead in the story!

This week, I happened along a lovely list of Vile OC asks (thanks for sharing that, @/flowerprose) and have been answering them. If y'all haven’t already seen the list and want to learn more about the characters of this story, make sure to check out this post and send me asks!!

As always, the excerpt from the new chapter will be under the cut, as this post always tends to get a bit long lol

Chapter 2 is the start of the hunt for information on Icarus’ end! So we got to spend the morning in a café with him as he read important documents and had a chat with our new friend Andromeda

Chapter 2’s excerpt:

Focusing back on the person in front of him, he came to a decision, praying it won’t come back to bite him in the future. He sets the paper he’s holding down on the table, turns it so that it is facing Andromeda, and slides it towards them, mumbling “Information.” 

He watched as Andromeda’s eyebrow lifted, seemingly interested in what type of information they were about to read. They then picked up the piece of paper, taking their time in reading every word printed on it. Icarus thinks they might not know just how classified this information is, as he only knows because it’s Daedalus. He knows every square inch of the monster, having been raised by it. Still, it’s pretty evident that the information on the page is not public knowledge.

“Holy shit,” the whispered words come as Andromeda lowers the paper back to the table, a shocked look on their face. “Holy shit, how did you get this?”

Also, because I’m feeling nice and I really like the fact that Andromeda is just adopting my piece of shit mc:

“Hun, you look like you are going to fall asleep at any minute.” Andromeda’s eyebrows pinch together as the corners of their mouth tug down. Icarus can tell that they are trying to catch his eyes, but he is far too tired to entertain the thought of maintaining any form of eye contact. Instead, he places his delicious cup of coffee back down on the table and picks up the sheet of paper that he was reading earlier. Silence stretches between the two for a moment before Andromeda sighs, “Alright, not gonna talk about your fucked up sleep schedule. Got it. Whatchya readin?”

At this rate it won’t be long before we start hitting hard packed action scenes! We do have a lot of information to find, after all, and only a limited number of ways to do so

tag list: 

@/flowerprose @/isherwoodj @/cream-and-tea @/touchingmadness @/lockejhaven @/marinesocks @/wildswrites @/the-finch-address @/writingpotato07 @/leighvalentin @/inkspellangel @/cljordan-imperium @/outpost51 @/alleahgrinnon

Please fill out this form to be added or ask to be removed!

#call me icarus #wip update #writeblr #writing #wip excerpt #dark fantasy #wupdate #andi writes

[quickspinner]

WIP Report 5/30/22

It’s been a while since I did an update on what I’m working on so even though this makes me cringe a little because it’s not super great news, here we go. 😂

Overall, the news is not so great, everything is moving slow. I haven’t been doing WIP Wednesdays and SSS as much because if I do you guys will literally be reading the chapters as their written, only choppy and out of order. I’m just not making enough big chunks of progress to have something to share every week. I’m still recovering from the issue I had in January (long story short, I had a pulmonary embolism that damaged my lungs, and while I should fully recover, it takes time to regenerate lungs and rebuild stamina, so even now months later I get tired out really easily, and the string of colds the kids have brought home haven’t really helped). Add to that summer vacation for the children and my daughter’s ongoing GI issues and all its related doctor’s appointments, I’m just short on time and both physical and emotional energy. I know, I don’t actually have to tell you all this and no one can get mad at me for real life coming first, but I like to keep you guys posted, especially when things slow down as drastically as they have of late.

Anyway, as summertime is beginning it means another set of schedule adjustments for my family, and it remains to be seen whether that will mean more time, less, or about the same. 

Indelible - This is still my first priority, and I feel like the end is in sight! At the same time, it’s grown hugely from my original concept so I could very well be wrong about that. I honestly thought it was mostly done when I started posting it but my original draft is probably only a quarter of what ended up being the final story. I hope that, after the chapter I’m currently working on, the next few bits will skip along a bit faster, but I have to look at what’s already written and see what adjustments need to be made based on how the story’s changed so far. But, we’re deep into this thing now and I’m gonna see it through one way or another.

Guard My Heart will be next up on the list because I seriously owe Mal big time for taking so long on it; I should know by now I can’t handle more than one big ongoing story at a time, so I should’ve waited to start Indelible until this one is finished (but again, I thought it was mostly done at the time, I didn’t realize I’d still be posting a year later 😅). I do have a pretty good chunk of the next chapter written, and the one after that, so I hope once I buckle down on it I can make it happen.

The Magic of You is also hanging out there taunting me, but I’m kind of letting it sit for now because I feel like I stopped it at a good place at the time, so I’m not as worried about it. I could have ended the story there and been fine, so the only reason it’s continuing is I still have ideas for it. I don’t mind if it sits for a bit.

Live With It part 2 can’t seem to make up its mind what it wants to be, and it should be so simple to finish, so I expect that one day I will get a random weekend burst of inspiration/motivation to finish it off, and who knows when it will happen. I expect to spend a lot of time in the car this summer so there should be plenty of thinky time.

Beautiful Dreams...sigh. Someday. I don’t know how it always ends up on the bottom of the list because I really love this story and want to finish it, and whenever I go read some of what I have for it I’m like *augh I love this I need to work on it some more* but we’ll get there eventually. This is the one story I would be truly heartbroken not to finish. 

So those are the major things I’m working on right now, and I usually don’t let myself get this far in the weeds on published works so I’ve really cut down on my one shots, prompt fics, sprint fics, and everything else in an attempt to dig myself out of this whole. I’m trying to ease up on that a bit; I think it’ll do me and my readers both good to break up these long efforts with some light hearted quick things. But, that’s where things stand for the moment. If you’re curious about a particular work that I didn’t mention here go ahead and drop me an ask!

#wip report

[minjeonpark]

A ramble about life🧘, work🧑‍💻, writing🖋️ and everything else.

Hello!👋 I feel like it's been ages since I opened Tumblr. I've been meaning to answer all of your comments, but several things happened this week that literally changed everything in my life.🙃

For starters, I got covid. Not fun at all, experienced headaches and body aches that turned me into a potato, and now I'm almost out and back to full health...I just need to endure a sore body for two more days. ✌️😭

Also.... I was fired....? *Insert yoongi's iconic confused face*😐😂

Lmao it came as a shock to me too --to everyone in my department since we all got fired. It stranded a lot of us because the news came as a work email at 9 am when everyone was home bound dealing with covid. No one expected it because we had just come back from a successful work trip to acquire a new client for the company. Now looking back, I should have paid more attention because just last month, half of the HR department was fired👀 and if you're a victim of capitalism and a slave of the work force you know HR is the last to go, like they're untouchable when the company is purging their payroll. HR, the last standing soldier, the one that sees you off...welp. 🤦

I wanted to leave an angry rant here the moment it happened, but I needed to keep moving and not let the fear of an uncertain future drown me. I know I'm still young and there are a lot of opportunities out there (I would like to think that way) but in a world where the timeline of how your life should play out is set and everyone around you is following it you can't help but feel like a failure when these things happen. Like, I don't want to get married and have a child in two years, you know. And I don't want to be frowned upon if I don't have a job that makes six figures by the time I get married. Cause everyone around me is doing that. I want to enjoy life at my own pace, and maybe getting fired from this important office job is a sign to follow the creative path I always wanted...I don't know. I have a job interview in two hours, so I guess this is me nervous rambling. 😬🥴

I was also considering putting my writing hobby on a Hiatus, but immediately backtracked because I don't want this hobby of mine to be tainted by the pressures of adult life. So I'm still going to write the shit out of my imagination because like many of you have said, it is an escape from reality. Chapter 22 is fully drafted, I actually added more scenes because when I first read the draft it felt like it lacked some important scenes, so that's where I'm at with the next update. I hope to give you teasers this Wednesday and post this weekend.

Let me end this rambling with something that I want to tell you all that my dad actually tells me every time I'm stuck. Whatever you chose to do, don't think of it as something you have to do for the rest of your life. It sounds hard, and it is hard to make the decision to change career paths, but sometimes you just need that push towards what will eventually make you happy. So here I am telling you that even if we don't know each other, just know that I will cheer you on. Whatever change you're too scared to make but that you know it will make you ten times happier than what you're doing right now, picture me telling you to go for it. My dad always says to not be scared of failure because out of everything you can learn in life, Failure is the biggest learning lesson you can get.

With that in mind, let me go apply for jobs that I'm under qualified for while I figure out what in the hell I'm gonna do next. 🤔

Also, I'm gonna start editing past chapters of Days Since I Met You with the lovely Sybil @sybilinthehollow. It's just grammar and stuff, nothing of the plot will be changed. So you don't have to worry about reading back. Everything for a better reading experience! 😏🤣🤭

Without further ado, I'll go study for my job interview, and I'll maybe see you tonight as I write Chapter 22? 🤞✌️

[the-blackest-spider]

I'm headed off for the night, I'll start hoarding drafts tomorrow most likely. I am planning on taking my mini laptop with me to SLC, but it's debatable whether or not I'll get on it, BUT I'll be available mobile via IM on here or on Discord, and feel free to message me any time on either, I promise you're not gonna bother me. :)

Also Activity Page and pinned post has been updated.

I'll try to pop in when I can non mobile wise tomorrow, Tuesday, and Wednesday.

Have a good night or day depending on where you are!

#widow ooc (cat speaks)

[dallonm-archive]

[image description: a cropped image of a pink sky. on the right hand side is a bunch of darker pink clouds. Just left of the centre is a full moon. In the centre, in a white serif font reads "writing update" /end id]

july writing update

Hi friends! This writing update is me pretending I did Camp Nano and didn't kinda give up a week in! I had a proper goal and everything, but a lot of things got in the way that I'm not gonna talk about here because I already ranted about it in another update I'm drafting rn. Lets just say it's Disability Pride Month and being not neurotypical or able bodied in writing communities and their inherent focus on productivity is Hard.

But I did get some writing done and wanted to do a little Camp wrap up post regardless. And I'm doing it now because I'm cancelling the last week of July for some rest/self care and I do not want to think about writing for that time and if I write a tumblr post about July Nano being over my brain will think it's actually over <3 I will probably do updates like these for most months tho! Depends on how much I write lol! This one is not too long (by my standards) and has some Revelations, Revelations, Life Cycle of Massive Stars, Nocturne for the Holy and a new wip idea 👁️

excerpts under the cut!

general taglist ; ask to be + or - ; i only have one! ; @childhoodlovers @svpphicwrites @abiandwriting @kowlazovdi @avi-why @ryns-ramblings @kitblogsthings @bijouxs @bookphobe @moonhungers @alicewestwater @bookpacking @shaelinwrites @onlyganymede @theelectricfactory @write-like-babs @oceancold @sidhewrites @wolf-oak @oasis-of-you @coffeeandcalligraphy @cecilsstorycorner @howdywrites @keira-is-writing @flip-phones @piyawrites @avakrahn @goose-books @finch-goes-write @ziyin @aphaimaniis @isherwoodj @laughtracksonata

I'm also editing this in to say I only just realised that July is my writeblr birthday month and that is very weird to me! A year and a couple days ago I impulsively turned an old blog into a place to document writing for me and ended up meeting people who now mean the world to me and my writing blossoming in a way I never thought it would. And the funny part is it doesn't feel like it's been a year, ever since I joined it's just felt like life has Always been this way and I cannot fathom that it hasn't. I'm sappy bc it's 4am lol but ultimately the friends I made (you know who you are) and the community I found is what retaught me the value of writing and helped me unlearn toxic ideas and whilst the last year was tough I wish I could tell July 2020 Dallon (who did not realise he was Dallon yet </3) what July 2021 would look like.

revelations, revelations ;

Oh the absolute state of affairs with this book rn. Nothing bad but I don't know when I'm gonna update y'all because sometimes I do not know where to start when talking about this wip lol! Currently on a break with it (but also my thesis work is on late 20th century queer lit/history rn so am ever really free of RR? <3) but had a lot of fun with it at the end of June/start of July. Anyway here's Dorothy finally revealing more of herself to me after a year. Dorothy as a character is like, I truly believe she is capable of killing a man but the story she is in just does not allow that so I am trying to grow her unhinged side a little bit in other ways bc I know she has it in her but I also really cannot deal with the plot repercussions of her actually killing a man! I'm sorry Dotty but this'll have to do!

(cw for groping/a man being creepy as hell, death/funeral mention, drug mention, drowning imagery kinda)

There’s too much to tell Felix. That his sister lives on the fringe of Castro and has attended three funerals since September; that it’s January 11th and she’s already attended one this year. That his sister drives through sunsets and imagines parties: the amber dusk, warm mosaic tiles, platters of Greek salad skewers and shrimp tostadas, and sometimes Jolie joins her and they share a blunt on the hill. That his sister bought an aquamarine body-length dress for six bucks in a thrift store sale bin, so when her and Jolie broke up for the second time, she waltzed into a sunset party, locked arms with a CEO’s son and gave him a fake number and plucked strawberries out of champagne and blended so well nobody noticed when she left. That during the summer of ’83, his sister walked a neighbour’s Golden Retriever on Wednesdays, and on the sixth Wednesday he gave her a wad of tens with one hand and palmed the back of her neck with the other, so she walked his dog to the beach and stole another hundred from his wallet. That his sister bombed an interview for a Nursing school and didn’t get home until night and missed their monthly call, and Jolie heard the phone ring and didn’t take a message, so his sister snuck into the CEO’s son’s villa and floated in the centre of their heated pool like a cloud. A pause, a breath, an Opheliean threat.

life cycle of massive stars ;

Switched to LCOMS this month because I was burnt out with RR and it made such the difference! I really love working on two novels at once because it keeps me consistently creative but also both of these books are so different so its always refreshing to bounce back into one from another. I have a whole update in the drafts rn for this so keeping this part brief but still love this book, still the best thing that has ever happened to me, me and this book will have a glorious summer wedding etc etc. These excerpts are from chapters that summarise the first semester of each character's first year and have to say it. has been Very Fun to get into the mindset of Freshers Melodrama. Here's Junie having a crisis and an unhealthy relationship with her hetero flatmate :( (alcohol cw for both excerpts)

In October you are drinking double espresso and trying to breathe normally in lectures and you are trying to figure out your favourite colour because Fleur asked and you stumbled out an answer (Purple, I think. Violet? Lavender? Indigo?) and it didn’t match hers (I like yellow. I like sunlight). You buy mugs from IKEA to paint you paint cats and fireworks and constellations and moon phases and daisies. You try to scratch paint stains off your desk. You do laundry at 2am. In October you colour code your notes with pastel highlighters. You go to the library at 3am. You paint your nails sunlight and hate it. You finish an essay that’s due in December. You knock on Fleur’s door at 8am so she makes her 9am. You wear off the shoulder tops and you let a girl dab glitter on your collarbones and you are watching Fleur kiss a boy from the neighbouring hall. You bite your sunlight nails. You break the handle off your IKEA constellation mug. You leave your keys in a lecture hall and stand at the reception for forty minutes waiting for them to realise that the keys on the desk have the moon chain you mentioned - or, you are waiting to say it yourself. You are watching the rain trail down your window. In October you get a halo headband tangled in your hair you are sipping a vampire themed cocktail that tastes like acetone you rip your heels off and you go home early and do laundry at 2am and you are waiting for the courage to tell Fleur you don’t like clubbing - or, you are waiting for her to ask where you are. In October you are many things / a good student a dancer a painter an angel a big sister an alarm clock you are nocturnal and a lucid dreamer and confused about your sexuality / and it’s still October but it’s not because it’s November now and you are still Junie but not because you don’t know who Junie is. It’s November, it’s September October November December. It’s 2016 2017 2018 2019. You are fragments and you don’t know if you are a kaleidoscope or shattered glass.

And here's first year Tomas being like I Moved Countries For University And All I Got Was Homesickness And A Crush On My Flatmate And Resurging Autistic Symptoms And This Lousy T Shirt (cw: vomit mention, injection mention, parental death mention)

Kristen is seven months younger and five inches taller than you. He’s the last flatmate you met and the only one you talk to beyond kitchen greetings and passive aggressive texts about dirty dishes. He is too quiet and too loud and not the type of person you befriend. The first night, he lost Ring of Fire and downed the concoction of Echo Falls, Dark Fruits, Jack Daniels and coke, vodka and lemonade alongside a cigarette and said he’d let God figure out the rest. He held your hair back when you threw up amaretto and held onto your knee when you first self-injected testosterone. He taught you Yorkshire dialect and you pretended to understand the Yorkshire dialect. He told you he got diagnosed at four and you told him you didn’t get past the first assessment but sometimes you flick the bathroom light on and it’s fire: the orange on the orange towel is louder, the white on the white tiles are louder, the colours and light and sink and showerhead are prickly and all you can do is blink and breathe until it fizzles out. You reminded him to take his meds and asked if you were weak for wanting to drop out and hop on the first Eurostar to Rotterdam. He reminded you to take off your binder and asked if he was robotic for not grieving his mother. You spent inky nights on the kitchen floor, counting the dead flies in the lights and scooping crumbly coconut ice cream out of a maker you got for half price in TK Maxx. You spent dusk-dusted afternoons at the global street food markets, at the vegan markets. Spent student loans on raspberry lemonade in recycled cups, veggie burgers in beetroot buns, got him hooked on poffertjes and advocaat and could’ve cried when the vendor spoke to you in Dutch. Sometimes you didn’t buy anything. Just liked hovering at stalls ambered with fairy lights, writing down Etsy stores on your notes app; just liked Kristen’s impulse to trek forty minutes into the city for a market he didn’t know existed until five minutes before; just liked how he always invited only you, cancelling your other plans last minute, the feeling of being ambushed; just liked how he stopped to take photos of dogs and the sunset; just liked how he looked haloed under lampposts waiting for Ubers, golden on golden.

This is also nearing creative nonfiction because Sheffield truly is a haven for just. vegan markets and cafes lol! I experimented with veganism there and never struggled to find something and at this point I call myself a fake vegan because it's too easy to be vegan in Sheffield and too difficult to be vegan in my actual hometown. And the global street food markets!!! SO GOOD! I miss pre pandemic days

nocturne for the holy ;

Giving her a little shout out because she does exist actually! I've figured out a really good system for working on two novels at a time, so my plan is maybe to start properly on this after I finish either RR or LCOMS. Idk I got 3 novels to pick from haha oops! I did do some free drafting back in April though and found it recently and I Like It! And I edited it so it counts as Something I Did This Month :) Also have decided that I loathe this working title <3 Okay see you with an update for this novel in like a year, sorry for the absolute zero context for this excerpt hehe

The morning I was due back, I hadn’t yet decided that this would be my last visit. I wandered between rooms like an overstayed guest, like I didn’t know which crockery lived in which cabinet and which bedroom had the best view of the overlapped hills. Dad would wake for his run in an hour, plastered to his twenty-year-old routine. Mum would pretend to be asleep until breakfast. Until then, it was myself and the house, hazed by sleepy sunrise. Downstairs. The peeling paisley wallpaper in the lounge, the lilies in the middle of the kitchen table, the vases of candy floss pink peonies wilting on every windowsill, the desolate double swing-set in the garden. The mist-clogged mornings. I stood outside in my dressing-gown until my fingertips felt numb. Upstairs. The sage coloured bathroom. The bathtub I’d laze in with my clothes on and no water because it was the quietest room in the house. The dusty dance trophies on the top of my wardrobe. Wine-flushed Jeanette in my teenage bedroom. The stale grey mum painted my teenage bedroom after I moved out. Minus their room, I stalked the layout of the house three times before settling back into bed - teenage Nora’s bed. Nora who cared for peonies and pushed her brother on the swing set and flung her ceramic ballerina at the wall and jogged with her father and collected wine bottles and acorns and kisses from girls who were supposed to visit for dance practice. Before I left, I’d have cycled each room another three times. And in every room he was there, hovered in the corner like black mould.

love this update bc it's like i've got my third person, my second person, my first person! collecting all the POVs like chaos emeralds :)

eulogy for our burnings ;

-looks away-

girl help I did it AGAIN!!!! Apparently Camp Nano is just the perfect time for me to get novel ideas. I made this post specifically to talk a bit about this because I have no idea when I'll draft it but it's certainly not soon. This is not me trying to doubt my own skill but I feel like I am not in the place I'd like to be as a writer to tackle this project with the zest it needs, however I am v excited by the prospect of it! Don't know how I feel about the working title bc I'm like "that doesn't sound right but I don't know enough about this wip to dispute it" but the only purpose my working titles serve is to sound pretty lol! But here's the tea:

1991, UK.

2nd person present + past. Very flexible form. I can't decipher how yet but I'm feeling interviews, newspaper articles, receipts, grocery store lists weaved with actual narrative, that kinda vibe.

Best summary is we follow our nameless narrator, a stealth trans man, as he becomes unhealthily obsessed with a man who "hires" him to photograph the buildings he burns

Very,,, isolated? Minimal settings, minimal characters, minimal prose etc. Almost claustrophobic

There's basically only two characters and they are probably the most morally deplorable, indefensible characters I've created which just means most of you are gonna LOVE this /lh I do too I do too

Only comp title I can give is it has the vibes/tone of Boy Parts by Eliza Clark (just with none of the nsfw content lol if you've read the book you know what I'm talking about) (also that book is great for morally deplorable women protagonists but omg look up the content warnings because it caught me off guard! enjoyed it tho gave it 4 stars)

The pinterest board is the best visualisation of the Vibes also follow me on pinterest lol

And that's all I've got today! A bigger Life Cycle of Massive Stars update coming in the next few weeks. Might do a proper intro post for Eulogy For Our Burnings but idk!!! It's a surprise :) Thank you for reading this far!

#also i have LOTS to catch up on so if u tagged me in anything im gonna do a big queue of rb's soon! #promise im not ignoring anybody! #just barely functioning <3 #atlastracking #writing update #revelations revelations #life cycle of massive stars #nocturne for the holy #eulogy for our burnings

[awsugar]

hello! if you follow me you’ve probably seen me mentioning this and it is finally here! recently i realized that i’ve really missed inter-fandom activities and events; stuff that brings us all together, so i decided i would take it upon myself to do something like that. my friends and i recently did a little secret santa-style playlist exchange and i thought that would be really fun to do on a larger scale plus i thought it would be nice to maybe get people’s minds off the current state of the world. so here we are!

something i’ve noticed about mcr fans is that obviously we all love mcr but outside of mcr we all have very different tastes in music, so this is a cool way to find something new you may have not heard or given a chance before! this is also a great way to make new friends in the community! additionally, i’m limiting this to mcr fans so that it doesn’t get out of hand bc i am doing this all by myself.

please read the whole post before signing up. i have a hard time being brief but i’ll do my best to get to the point.

the basic idea is just like secret santa. you will receive an email with the name and url of the person you are to make a playlist for and you will have about a week to do so. someone will also have your name and make you a playlist.

signups will end on saturday the 9th at noon and assignments will be emailed out saturday night or sunday at the latest if we have a lot of participants. 

playlists will go live and be sent to your recipient on friday the 15th.

if too many people sign up i’m not sure i’ll be able to do this but i’m going to ATTEMPT to message everyone involved on wednesday the 13th to make sure they are on track and still plan to make and send their playlist by friday. if i can get this done and you tell me you won’t have it ready or you don’t respond within 24 hours i will assume you’ve dropped out and i will get someone else to make an extra playlist.

there is a section on the signup form asking if you are willing to make a second playlist on short notice in the event that someone drops out like i mentioned above. this is totally optional, it’s just so i know who i can contact to make another playlist if it comes down to that.

related to the above point, if you don’t receive your playlist by the afternoon of the 16th, let me know and i will contact one of those people to make you one. everyone will get a playlist!!

this event is open to anyone. i explain this in the signup form but in order to make sure everyone is comfortable with who they are making a playlist for i will be splitting the signups into groups of minors and adults so we don’t have 16 year olds making playlists for people in their 20s and vice versa.

this is also explained in the form but i’m limiting this to making your playlist on spotify, apple music, or youtube. i’ll be splitting the groups up again to reflect this so that everyone is able to listen to the playlist made for them. i’ve put a lot of thought into this and i really want it to go smoothly lol.

i’ll be running it from this blog. any questions you have can be sent here and i’ll be posting reminders or updates here if there are any. i’ll also be posting a masterlist of playlists here but you are not required to follow me! i’m an adult so if you’re uncomfortable following for that reason or literally anything else don’t worry you can still take part in this!

any posts i make about this or questions i answer will be tagged ‘quarantine playlist exchange’ so feel free to check that tag for any other info

as i mentioned above i’ll be posting a masterlist of the playlists a day or two after the playlists are sent out to their recipients. if you don’t want yours in the master post that’s totally fine but whenever your playlist is done feel free to send me a link and i’ll add it to the draft of the post.

songs by mcr or related artists are ok! but try to make the bulk of your playlist other stuff.

i’m gonna go with a 10 song minimum but you are welcome to make your playlist as long as you like.

please reblog this post so we can get a lot of people in on this! :)

i think that’s everything i can think of right now. message me with any and all questions that you have and i will do my best to answer them for you. please use this google form to sign up and i look forward to seeing the playlists that you guys make!

#my chemical romance #gerard way #mikey way #frank iero #ray toro #my post #quarantine playlist exchange

[svtskneecaps]

i just see you, part 31 ~ ready?

< Prev | First | Masterlist | Next >

(Seventeen Youtuber! Non-Idol! College! AU; fluff; xu minghao x fem!reader)

When an artist begins to frequent the café you do murals for, you know your life is going to get interesting. What you don’t know is that he’s also your favorite online artist. Shenanigans ensue.

send me an ask or a dm if you’d like to be on the tag list

SURPRISE BITCH, REMEMBER HOW I SAID I WASN’T GONNA UPDATE UNTIL SATURDAY WELL ALL MEN DO IS LIE TRUST NOBODY HAHAHAHAHA

anyway i’ve got good and bad news and the good and bad news is is i’ve finish drafting this au and there are two parts left, so she’ll be done by next wednesday y’all. that’s what’s up.

i’m probably going to do my best to finish whatever the next sm au is gonna be before i start posting it just so we don’t have so much wishy washy when-will-she-update bs on the next one

currently i have like 2 in the planning phases, one for mingyu and one for jeonghan so we’ll see where those go and uh if y’all wanna hear basic concepts and see if you want to hear about em when they start going up i’m happy to rant about them bc i’m a dumb passionate fool hehe

uh anyway that’s all i have to say rn lmao love u trust no one uwu

oh wait one more thing do i do like an end note?? i barely ever finish shit idk if that seems interesting at all lmao i can give stats and shit??? point out my plotholes??? idk lmao

tag list: @shoshishua @hannahdinse8 @sweetcheol @haobaobei @shuatoyou @svt-sunflower @yaebbinnie @snowyseungs @urlocalcaratclown @haobaebaei @ziocho @cheolright @lowkeycarat @bobrouxsky @belledamsceno @jeninsane @dwcljh @uglyratlmao @samemagicpoint @zoogle22 @gostickywombat @haotheheckk @lapofthegodss @lolibaaae @minghaoist @nctxskzwhippedculture @lelmadsoul @plumhao @kpopssuregi

next part Saturday, September 12.

but all men do is lie so idk maybe that’s a lie

#caratwritersclub #seventeen #xu minghao #the8 #seventeen au #xu minghao au #the8 au #minghao #seventeen scenarios #minghao scenario #the8 scenario #xu minghao imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #xu minghao fluff #the8 fluff #seventeen social media au

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

WIP Wednesday - Why I’m Probably About to Go on Hiatus

I knew this day would come, and honestly I’m glad I got a little over 2 months of posting in before I hit it.

As some of you know, I work full time plus some weird hours, so I don’t always have as much time to write as I’d like (plus writing is a major aspect of my job, so sometimes I come home too tired to words anymore).

I’ve been working on “Sawdust of Words” since about three weeks after Good Omens premiered (more like two days after it premiered cuz those first stories were just running around my head causing trouble), writing every opportunity I have. I’ve finally reached the point where I have NO completed stories ready to post.

What I do have are three completed first drafts and a couple of half-writtens, plus a whole scattering of ideas.

However, I simply do not have time to get anything finished and to my beta reader by Saturday. I have some commitments this week* so I probably won’t be able to get any work done until Saturday; and the next two weeks I have weekend commitments. Or is it three weeks? Yeah, it’s gonna be busy.

That does NOT mean I stop writing; more that I just don’t have any big blocks of time in which to edit, so I’ll be tossing things together wherever I can; this makes it hard to judge when I’ll be finished, so I can’t give any timeline for this at the moment. I’m going to do a little work tonight, and maybe I’ll somehow miraculously pull something together by Saturday. More likely, I’ll have at least one short story done by next week. BEST case scenario, I take two weeks and manage to get a lot to my beta, giving me enough material to last until Christmas. WORST case, idk, Thanksgiving???

I’m a little sad because I genuinely wanted to get something up this weekend for Asexual Awareness Week BUT I’m not going to trim my editing process and try to rush out a story. Particularly since the story in question was written while super sleep deprived and has some weird structural issues as a result.

Anyway, this got long and rambly, and I honestly don’t know how many of my hundred-and-something followers are here for Sawdust of Words updates, and how many just like it when I reblog metas with historical commentary. I will, however, continue to do the latter as much as I am able; also always feel free to message me or send me asks in an attempt to encourage me to keep working (I do like encouragement) or to ask questions about swords (I love swords).

I’ll post another update this weekend with my progress. Leave me a comment if you want me to @ you when I do.

*OK I’m playing a WWI soldier in a cool history graveyard tour and I haven’t learned my lines yet.

#good omens fanfiction #good omens #fanfic writing #writing process #sawdust of words #current wip #wip wednesday

[littlethingwithfeathers]

Writing Update: 8-19-19

Publishing now!

Stolen Season (Friendship is Unnecessary): Steve/Natasha vignettes during Endgame’s five year jump. I thought I would do a set of scenes, some sexy some not, of how we get from Steve and Natasha working together at the end of IW, to them halfway living apart at the end of the five year jump. It also covers some of the hunt for Ronin!Clint, Steve taking up the mantle of group therapist, and Natasha stepping up as a sort of hybrid of Cap and Nick Fury. Definitely a trip to angsty-town, but I promise to fix it in the end.

Excerpt:

"Help is on the way. Just get everyone to sit tight."

Natasha hung up, eyes darting around the room. Clint! Holy shit, it was Clint! He'd finally let her know where he was! He'd practically sent her an engraved invitation to meet him. But the kids… she was gonna need help. 

She dove for her burner phone and had it flipped open when she looked at the time on the display.

7:47pm.

It was Wednesday. Steve was in group, and not likely to answer. And even if he did feel the phone… maybe she shouldn't. She snapped it shut again. No… this… this wasn't his gig anymore. 

And for the first time in a very long time… she thought of Bucky. Actually thought of him. Not just as some phantom pain to be ignored until it went away. She actually thought, "I should call Bucky." as if he were still alive. As if he could come help her, because honestly, he might've been more use than Steve. And she thought this as if he were upstairs, or in Brooklyn with Steve or…

She shook her head. Hard. 

No. Here. Now. Job to do. People to save.

And she did need help on this one. She wasn't equipped for potential hostage extraction or victim care. This was outside of the Avenging paygrade.

"V.E.R.O.N.I.C.A.? Will you please contact Rhodey and patch him through to my earpiece."

"Dialing him now."

***

Other “Friendship is Unnecessary” fics at various stages:

But Most of All Because They Offend Thee: Based off this post. Probably just short, upbeat, porny little one-shot of Nat being a shit and teasing Steve. Because honestly… this series needs some levity after what I’ve done in “Stolen Season.”

One of Those Things (Prologue): Since I’ve written this beast of a series completely out of order, and thus all my author notes are no doubt VERY confusing, I thought I’d put a short prologue on the front. Just a couple of short scenes to plant some seeds and give an actual starting place to this whole sprawling, intertwining mess, but also to give me a chance to address new readers so my forewords on the rest of the fics don’t seem weird. I’ve got a little more than a thousand words written on it which is probably about a third to half way.

Untitled Pre-War Steve/Bucky and Pre-Avengers Phil/Clint/Natasha: Partially a request from @crazyevildru that I’m toying with. Probably a flashback or a memory. This series really does need more Steve/Bucky, and I feel bad about it. I’m thinking of also adding a prequel/flashback of Clint/Phil/Natasha as well… maybe have the whole thing be a discussion over dinner.

Sweet and Honorable (Title pending):  Set post Civil War. Bucky insists on coming with Sam and Natasha to rescue Steve when he gets captured. This is starting to take shape in my head as a sort of work through for some of the issues that get raised in “Echo in my Soul.” Given what we know about the new Black Widow movie, I may hold off on this one for a bit. At least until I can figure out how I’m going to squirm around or ignore the added canon. (can’t wait for that movie BTW)

***

Other works coming soon!

Intercalation: A Ulana/Boris/Valery fix-it fic for HBO’s Chernobyl. THE ROUGH DRAFT IS FINISHED! 84k words and it is DONE! Ten full chapters and an epilogue. It’s been challenging since this fic has lots of moving parts. It’s a continuation picking up just after the trial and that arc is studded with flashbacks to things that happened during the show. There’s a lot of character exploration… and one or two honest to goodness physics lectures which I’ve been getting help from an actual physicist and story enthusiast, @cactusowl, to write. Now the long war of editing must begin. Look for this one to start publishing on September 9.

Hymn of Acxiom: Scarlet/Vision. It would be post Endgame, with Wanda helping a newly reconstructed Vision who has no memories and no personality without the Mind Stone to network all the pieces and facets of his personality.  This is next on the docket after “Intercalation.” I’ve really only just gotten started. Sketching scenes and playing with theme. Don’t expect anything before November.

A Maelstrom Whirls Below: I’m toying with the possibility of a sequel to my Darcy/Eddie/Venom fic “A Room for Rent in the Fourth Estate.” A rough outline is in place, and I’m starting to sketch around on a few scenes. But right now it’s just some ideas and a few zippy one-liners. It’s starting to get some traction though! Likely won’t start work in earnest until all this Endgame fix-it stuff is done, but I’m definitely letting it percolate.

Hang By Every Word: The outline for my Stucky fic is still coming along but it will be awhile yet before I start writing on it in earnest. The basic theme (and I’m sure this has been done, but fuck it) is the undoing of Bucky’s conditioning one trigger word at a time. And each trigger word locked down a memory that HYDRA deemed integral to Bucky’s personality. And of course… they all involve Steve. So I have to write things from Steve’s point of view, and all ten memories have to be written from Bucky’s point of view, and they have to tie together into a cohesive narrative. The memories are out of order, but Steve’s timeline isn’t and… It’s a challenge. I’m still largely in the brainstorming phase… writing little snippets here and there. Nothing’s solidly taking form just yet. Again… just letting it percolate.

Untitled Sarge/Melinda May fic: I know. I KNOW! Don’t give me that look. You’re watching the same show I am and you’re seeing what I’m seeing. This shit writes itself. I’ve been sketching on a few things, and now that the season’s wrapped up I have an idea of what I want to do. I might crowbar in a few days just so that I can have some exploration time... sometime between (SPOILERS) May shooting Sarge and them heading for the Temple.

#writing #writing update

[serenlyss]

Don’t Thank Me Yet Chapter 2

Rating: M (guns, casual murder, torture, violence, ptsd, dissociation, blood, injury) Pairing: ritshou Summary: “Alright then. I’m Shou,” he says, introducing himself more properly this time. “I’m an esper, like you, the first in existence to be forcibly awoken by Claw’s crazy torture machines. They kidnap kids with potential latent psychic powers and break them, over and over, until either their powers emerge or they die. It doesn’t matter either way to them.” His expression hardens as he speaks, clear distaste and outright malice evident in his tone. “I could really use your help here, you know. A partner of sorts, someone to watch my back. What do you say?" Ritsu hesitates. He isn’t a fighter by any means, and the psychic powers now churning beneath his skin are still very new and frightening. It’s all very overwhelming, but Ritsu can’t help but feel a sort of sickening hope at Shou’s promise for revenge. It did have a sort of dark draw to it. In which Claw is a lot worse than they seem and Shigeo isn't able to find his brother after he's kidnapped. Crossposted to AO3: Chapter 2

Chapter 1 // Chapter 3

Here's chapter 2! My idea for the time being is to update every Wednesday if I can, but I'm also doing summer term which means not a lot of writing time left over so those updates may get a bit sparser near the end! At the moment I have almost 5 chapters out of 8 at drafted, so hopefully that will help me have some extra time to make sure everything ends up polished!

Thanks to my beta readers @shutupeleven​ and @soapipia​ for helping me edit this chapter! Your help is much appreciated my friends!

Shou pushes the door of the empty house open with his powers, letting it swing open noisily in front of him. He tightens his grip on the arm around his shoulder, feeling the weight of his partner heavy against his side. His other arm is wrapped around Ritsu’s waist, offering as much physical support as he can. “You still with me, dude?” he asks, making his way over to an old couch in the area of the house that’s been designated the med bay.

He can practically feel Ritsu rolling his eyes at his dramatics as Shou helps him sit down on the couch, wincing as his sore body protests every movement. “I’m not gonna die, Shou, I’m just a little banged up,” Ritsu replies, leaning his head back against the top of the couch with a sigh. “You know I’m more durable than that.”

Shou flashes his friend an amused grin, extending a hand toward a shelf at the back of the room. His red-orange aura appears around his hand and stretches out with an invisible thread to encircle a beat-up cardboard box on the middle shelf, levitating it to his side.

Ritsu carefully shucks off his jacket, which is at this point destroyed beyond repair and covered in his own blood, and discards it to the side of the couch. Shou gives him a quick once-over, taking stock of his injuries. Most of them are clean cuts, inflicted by the window he’d crashed through during their unfortunate brawl. “Guess I’m still not so good at putting up barriers under pressure, huh? Even after all the training you put me through, my reflexes are still slow,” Ritsu sighs.

“It comes with years of practice and muscle memory. You’ve only had a few months to develop your powers, give it some more time,” Shou replies, reaching out a hand to turn over Ritsu’s arm and address the cuts there. Ritsu flinches as his fingers press into a particularly bad cut, earning an apologetic glance from his friend. He continues, “Things got a bit out of hand, anyway. There wasn’t supposed to be a fight, but I guess we weren’t so lucky today.” He reaches deftly for a cloth and dabs an antiseptic solution onto it, pressing it against Ritsu’s cuts. “If everything had gone as planned, we would’ve just killed ‘em all and disappeared, but one of their guys was able to see through my invisibility. Can’t tell you how, but it’s something to keep in mind for the future, I guess.”

Ritsu hisses out a pained breath as the cloth comes into contact with his open wounds, clenching his hand into a fist. Shou continues as though he hadn’t moved at all, and he might have been afraid of coming across apathetic if he isn’t aware of how well Ritsu knows him. “God, that stings. I keep thinking I’ll be used to it next time, but that never happens,” Ritsu grunts, gripping the arm of the chair tightly beside him.

Shou huffs out a short laugh. “Yeah, it never really gets any better, even after years of fighting,” he agrees, gently wiping away the blood that had seeped from Ritsu’s cuts and stained his skin bright red. “Look on the bright side, though: Once these are all healed up in a few days, you’ll have some more badass battle scars to show off!” He flashes Ritsu another lopsided grin, trying to lighten the mood.

“Ah, yeah, I guess espers do heal pretty fast, don’t we?” Ritsu murmurs in response as Shou wraps his arm in clean white bandages, though he doesn’t sound nearly as excited about the scars as Shou does. He already has plenty, after all. He opens and closes his hand experimentally. “My brother’s gonna have a fit when he sees them.”

“It’s one of the perks,” says Shou, moving up to Ritsu’s face now. “You went out shoulder-first, though, so luckily the damage was contained to mostly one arm.” He dabs away a trail of blood that had run down his neck and soaked into the collar of his black shirt, leaving a dark stain behind. “How’re your powers treating you? Feel any better about using them?”

Ritsu hums, closing his eyes for a moment as Shou wipes the cloth over a cut on his forehead. He doesn’t answer right away, and Shou doesn't press him to hurry up. “It still takes me way longer than you to do anything,” he says at last, letting his eyes blink open as Shou moves to push Ritsu’s shaggy hair out of his face with one hand, “but I think I’m getting better at controlling them. I’m still nowhere near as strong as that first night, though. It’s taken a lot of work to get to where I am now.”

Shou nods, pleased. Any progress is good progress, in his eyes. “Well, of course you’re not as good as I am, I’ve had these powers for years,” he replies, tone coming off cocky. “Even though Claw forced them on us, they’re still a part of us, and always have been. Not to mention, they’re good reminders to keep us focused on what we’re fighting against.”

“I could never forget, anyway,” Ritsu says back, voice quiet and grim.

Shou smiles at him, sympathetic, and lets his hand linger on Ritsu’s cheek a moment after he’s removed the cloth from his face. Then he pulls a bandaid out of the box and unwraps it, covering a small but persistently bleeding cut on Ritsu’s forehead. “Yeah, me neither. Still, I am grateful to them for bringing me such a strong and dependable ally. I’ve got Ootsuki and the rest, but they don’t know Claw as intimately as we do. Plus, you’re way smarter than they are.”

Ritsu cracks a small smile at this, and Shou takes it as a victory. Ritsu isn’t nearly as comfortable expressing his thoughts and memories as Shou is, so he sometimes finds himself guessing what words will work as a form of comfort in what situation. “Don’t thank me yet, we haven’t finished what we started,” Ritsu reminds him.

Shou pats his knee to show he’s heard, dropping the stained cloth into a trash can beside the couch. “We’ve come a long way these last few months. Especially you. You’ve changed a lot since the night I found you,” he comments, voice edging on fond.

Ritsu hums, glancing down at his bandaged hand with eyes that stare at something far away from where they are now. It’s not unusual for Ritsu to space out like this, but Shou can’t find himself getting used to the way his gaze fogs over and he falls deathly still and quiet, his soft breathing the only thing rooting him to the living world. He can only imagine what kinds of memories he sinks into when he falls into these moods, if he thinks of anything at all. Ritsu’s unwilling to parse the details of his kidnapping and captivity, subsequent torture, or anything else he experienced in Claw’s awakening lab, and Shou doesn’t want to pry too far, as curious as he is to compare his own experiences against another survivor.

He gives Ritsu a few minutes, moving to address the glass cuts on the bottom of his one bare foot. He’d lost his shoe when the Claw esper had thrown him through the window, and the broken glass had been quick to bite into the soft flesh of his sole. Shou suspects his shoe is probably still back in the base, no one left alive inside to take it for themself. Perhaps Ritsu would be able to retrieve it later, when they inevitably went back to blow the place up entirely. It wouldn’t do to leave it vacant and let Claw send more of their scientists to start work back up again, after all. Shou gently covers his injuries in the same white bandages that now litter Ritsu’s body. The dark-haired boy doesn’t flinch, or acknowledge his existence at all. It’s more than an little worrying when Ritsu falls into trances like this. Once he’s finished bandaging Ritsu’s foot, he decides to break the spell. “Ritsu,” he says, soft and careful.

Ritsu blinks when he hears his name called, knocked out of his reverie by Shou’s curious voice. He’s frozen for a moment, and his eyes dart back and forth as he reorients himself in the present moment. “Sorry, I spaced for a bit there,” he murmurs, reaching up with one hand to push his bangs away from his face. He stares down at his lap, dark lashes hiding his half-lidded eyes. “Did you finish?”

Shou raises an eyebrow at him, faintly amused, and hopes it covers the concern he feels underneath. “Yeah, you’re all good. It’s your turn to do me now,” he says, gesturing to his own bedraggled appearance. He’s not nearly as bad off as Ritsu is, but his hands are cut up and there’s a gash on the back of one of his calves. “What were you thinking about?”

Ritsu lets out a breath, pushing himself to his feet and swapping places with Shou. He doesn’t meet Shou’s gaze, eager to do something with his hands. “Just… stuff,” he replies, and it’s a terrible way to cover up the fact that he’d spiraled into a realm of unpleasant memories.

“Mmhmm, sure,” Shou replies, not convinced in the slightest. He hesitates, wanting to confirm his own suspicions but still conscious of the fact that Ritsu has boundaries that Shou doesn’t, and his traumatic memories are one of the things he doesn’t really talk about. He bites his lip, debating back and forth for a moment before he finally decides to just rip the metaphorical bandaid off. “You were thinking about the night I found you, right?” he asks.

Ritsu freezes for a split-second, not long enough to be noticeable unless you’re really paying attention, like Shou is. Busted. Ritsu chuckles dryly, but there’s no humor in it, and he doesn’t smile, just copies Shou’s earlier actions of wetting a clean cloth with the disinfectant liquid so he can return the favor. Shou rolls up the leg of his pants, granting access to the cut underneath, and doesn't say anything else. He knows that if Ritsu doesn’t want to talk about it, he won’t.

“It happens sometimes. My memories of that night are… foggy,” Ritsu says after a moment, his words carefully chosen. “I remember being locked in this weird pod, and I remember you picking me up in the forest, but in between that it’s just kinda… hazy.” He presses the cloth against Shou’s leg, and Shou squirms, grimacing at the sharp sting that shoots up his calf. Ritsu grasps his ankle with one hand, holding him steady. “Don’t move,” he chastises.

Shou grunts, trying to take his mind off the stinging by focusing on Ritsu’s words. “I’m not surprised. You were exhausted to the point where you could barely stay standing. You’d lost a lot of blood, too, from whatever torture they put you through.” He shakes his head, clenching his teeth at the memory. “I still can’t believe they got those machines to work on someone with your kind of power. Before you, I was the only one.” He huffs out a bitter laugh, glancing away. “The great son of the leader of Claw, the first successful attempt at forcibly awakening a person’s latent psychic power. Can’t say if it was worth the cost, though.”

Ritsu frowns at this, Shou notices, as he tightly bandages his injured calf to keep it from bleeding any further. Shou’s not shy about talking about his own experiences in Claw’s awakening labs, and he bears plenty of scars from his time there, whether it's the singed skin on his back and arms or the thin lines that litter his torso and legs. Memories that will never disappear, etched for eternity into his flesh. He shows his scars proudly. They’re evidence of his ability to survive, to overcome. He takes great pride in recounting the stories of how they got there, stories he embellishes with all the flourish and drama he can muster.

Ritsu isn’t like that, though. He hides his insecurities behind carefully-crafted layers, like the psychic barrier he uses to protect himself from corporeal harm. Going through one would only reveal another, and then another, too many for any one person to break through by force. He covers his scars with gloves and long-sleeved jackets, even in the searing summer heat, even though Shou has seen them all and knows most of the stories behind them.

Ritsu swallows, clearly uncomfortable. He never had enjoyed when Shou brought up his father. “I remember being on the ground when my powers came to me,” he says, and Shou tries to hide his surprise. He’s avoided speaking about anything regarding the awakening lab in the past, unsure if he was ready to face what happened. Perhaps it was just an easier topic than trying to parse Shou’s family trauma. “They’d been torturing me nonstop for two days, trying to get me to break, to force my psychic powers to awaken and protect me. It worked.” He pauses, swallowing thickly. “Shou… back when you found me, the night I broke out of that place, you killed two scientists.”

Shou’s breathing stutters in his chest. He remembers it well, the way he’d shot them to death to keep them away from Ritsu. “Yeah, I did,” he replies, uncertain why Ritsu would bring it up now, a month later.

“You’ve killed a lot of people,” Ritsu continues, eyes still diligently focused on the task at hand.

Shou tenses up. Where is he going with this? “Yeah, I have.”

Ritsu just nods, falling quiet for a moment, as though this isn’t a revelation to him. Shou supposes it probably isn’t. Ritsu isn’t stupid, after all, and he’s see the way Shou handles a gun. Not to mention all the Claw bases they’d demolished in their short partnership.

“I think,” Ritsu begins, wiping away the blood that clings to Shou’s calf and ankle, “that I also killed a lot of people, when I lost control of my power.” He speaks slowly, choosing his words with care. “I don’t remember the details, but I know that some of the people in that lab tried to stop me. It was like I wasn’t even in control of my own body, but I still remember doing it, faintly.” Then, quietly, he adds, “I didn’t want to kill them.”

Shou hums as he listens to Ritsu speak. “You were only protecting yourself,” he says with a frown. “Besides, they deserved what was coming to them. It’s their own fault for getting involved with Claw to begin with.”

“How can you say that so easily?” Ritsu asks, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “Sure, they were members of Claw, and the stuff they did was terrible. I’m not saying it wasn’t, but they… they were still people, in the end.”

Shou’s frown deepens. “So what?” he snaps, harsher and angrier than he intends. His shoulders lift subconsciously, and he feels suddenly defensive. “They hurt us, Ritsu, really badly. That kind of damage can’t be healed by time or therapy or counseling. It’ll never go away, not ever.” He crosses his arms, drawing into himself when he would normally sit with open posture. “They broke us in a way that can’t be fixed, so I think it’s justified if we break them back. Compared to what they did to us, killing them is mercy.” He scoffs, looking away. “Anyway, it’s not like it matters anymore. They’re already dead, so there’s nothing left to talk about.”

Ritsu doesn’t answer, lips turning down in a disapproving frown. Shou notices belatedly that his hands are shaking. The sight of it sends a little shock of regret down his spine: he hadn’t meant to get defensive. In the four months they’ve stayed together, they haven’t butted heads very often, and the times they did were usually over things so small and trivial that they really didn’t matter in the end.

“Like I said, you were protecting yourself,” Shou mumbles, attempting to backpedal. “That must have been why you were so tired when you finally made it up the hill. Once everything was said and done you could hardly keep yourself standing. Adrenaline, probably.” He feels silly, like he’s rambling, but he’s desperate to change the subject now. “I basically had to carry you to the car, and you fell right asleep as soon as I told you to. Higashio hit a pothole halfway back, but you didn’t even react. You did end up leaning on my shoulder, though, somehow,” Shou says as Ritsu’s finishing up cleaning a cut on the side of his neck. “You slept the whole way back. I was pretty impressed. I had to levitate you all the way to the bed, ‘cause you wouldn’t wake up.”

Ritsu flushes pink as Shou speaks, setting aside the rag and grabbing a long band-aid from the box. His hands stop shaking.

Shou’s surprised to see Ritsu blush, and he can’t help the grin that comes to his face as the sour mood seems to lift a little. “Oh? Are you embarrassed? What’s wrong, Ritsu, you lean on me all the time now!” he teases, grateful for the chance to talk about something less heavy. Teasing is easy, even if the implications of their earlier conversation still hang thick in the air.

“Oh, shut up,” Ritsu retorts, but Shou’s teasing only makes his blush darken. It brings Shou a giddy kind of satisfaction to see Ritsu loosen up a little like this. Ritsu continues, “I don’t remember ever getting in the car. Guess my mind was too overloaded.”

“Trauma can do that to a person,” Shou agrees casually, leaning back on the couch as Ritsu finishes his work. “There’s a ton of stuff I blocked out of my memory growing up.”

Ritsu sighs, sitting up and taking a seat on the couch next to Shou. “That’s not a good thing,” he points out, fixing his dark gray gaze on Shou with a frown. “How do you even know that if you don’t remember what you’ve forgotten?”

“Well, it’s like you said. I remember what happened before and after, but my memory just kinda leaps forward in time. There’s an empty space that I know is there because it doesn’t make sense otherwise, but no matter how hard I try I can’t seem to figure out the missing pieces,” Shou explains with a wave of his hand. “They’re not important memories, though. I can live without them.”

Ritsu just stares at him with that same look, wordlessly telling him that his experience isn’t normal or desirable, as though he doesn’t already know.

Shou gulps, glancing away. Ritsu always has been pretty good at seeing right through him. “You know what they say, ignorance is bliss,” he says, though his words are lacking his usual confidence all of a sudden. Clearing his throat, he shifts in his seat, restless. “Er, was there anything else you wanted me to tell you? I don’t mind, you can ask me whatever you like.”

Ritsu shakes his head. “Ah, that’s okay, thanks. I remember everything that happened afterward,” he replies, but it’s clear to Shou that there’s something there, sitting on the tip of his tongue, barely held back by Ritsu’s unwillingness to step out of his comfort zone.

It’s been four months since they’d first partnered up, and Shou has grown somewhat accustomed to the little habits Ritsu uses to subtly express his emotions, like the way he avoids eye contact when he’s feeling vulnerable, or how he’ll fidget when he’s nervous or contemplative. Right now, he’s doing the former, eyes looking anywhere but at Shou as he piles the first aid equipment back into the box in preparation to store it again.

Shou stands and snaps the box up with his hands before Ritsu can, folding it shut and crossing the few steps over to the shelf at the other end of the room. “If you have something else to ask, you should just ask it,” he says. He doesn’t look back at Ritsu, if only because he knows his friend is less likely to ask if he feels like he’s being stared at.

Ritsu chuckles softly at this, leaning back in his seat. “I’m never going to be able to sneak one past you, am I?” he says.

Shou just shrugs, sliding the box into its place on the middle shelf. “I guess you could say I’ve gotten pretty good at reading you,” he replies, though it’s only somewhat true. Much of Ritsu’s mannerisms and habits are still a mystery to him, especially the ones that stem from his experiences with Claw. “So, what’s on your mind? You know you can talk to me, right?”

“I know,” Ritsu says without hesitation, and it puts some of Shou’s doubts to rest. He takes an audible breath, then asks, “When am I going to be able to see my brother? It’s been four months. He probably thinks I’m still missing, if he doesn’t think I’m dead. I want him to know that I’m safe.”

Shou pauses, his hands hovering on the box’s cut-out handles. For a long, silent moment, he just stands there, hands held in front of him. Then, he turns and walks over to where Ritsu is sitting, crouching in front of him and offering him a rehearsed smile. It’s meant to be reassuring, but Shou’s never been very good at that. “You’ll be able to see him soon, I promise,” he says.

Ritsu must pick up on his false persona, because his eyes narrow, and his lips turn down in a frown. Shou knows immediately that he’s fucked up. Ritsu’s glare is dark and biting, sending a shiver down his spine. Shou forgets sometimes how terrifying Ritsu can be, until that anger is turned on him instead of an enemy.

Ritsu stands up hastily, hands bunching into fists at his sides. “Don’t make me a promise you don’t intend to keep,” he snaps, tone harsh and angry.

Shou flinches, already regretful.

Ritsu pushes his way past him and disappears around a corner, and Shou hears the door of his room close behind him with finality.

Shou lets out a soft groan, leaning his forehead on the couch cushion in defeat. He hadn’t meant it like that. He really does have plans to let Ritsu talk to Shigeo, just… not yet. It’s still dangerous, there’s still a chance that Claw could realize their mistake in mixing them up and go after Shigeo instead, and he really doesn’t want Ritsu’s interference to be the reason Shigeo ends up in the same situation the two of them are in now. He knows that being away from his brother is the thing that Ritsu finds the most undesirable about their arrangement, but he just can’t think of a way for the two of them to meet without jeopardizing one or both of them in the process. Ritsu is too important to their mission, too important to him, to risk him falling into Claw’s grip again.

You’re so selfish, he berates himself, clenching his hands into fists. Ritsu isn’t your pawn, you can’t control him.

Shou has never been one to stifle or repress his own feelings and emotions, and because of this, he can’t deny that he cares for Ritsu in a very personal way. It extends beyond the bounds of their self-determined mission, morphing into a feeling that’s a bit deeper and more potent than he’s willing to delve into with the way things are. He frowns. These are dangerous feelings, distracting and unappreciated. If he lets them run wild without putting a cap on them, he’ll end up doing something he regrets. He can’t afford to let such things interfere with the goal he’s worked toward for more than three years now, so he recognizes them, acknowledges them, buries them. There’s no place for such wants here.

I should apologize, he thinks, pushing himself to his feet slowly. He owes Ritsu an explanation, needs to repair what he’s broken with his careless words. He hopes that Ritsu’s cooled off enough to let him.

He walks to the door in silence, footsteps light, treading on his toes before his heels so his steps don’t echo. It’s a habit he’s picked up from years of sneaking around enemy bases and sabotaging them from the inside. He pauses just outside, listening, but there’s no noise on the other side of the door. He reaches out tentatively, gives the door a little knock with the back of his hand. If Ritsu doesn’t want him there, he won’t answer, and Shou will leave as though he’d never knocked at all.

Luckily for him, Ritsu isn’t so angry that he’s forcing Shou away. “What do you want?” comes his muffled voice, his words ice-cold. It’s an invitation. A harsh one, sure, but it’s better than being outright ignored.

“Can I come in?” Shou asks.

“You can do what you want,” Ritsu replies dismissively. His words are biting, lined with sharp thorns, but Shou can read the quiet consent within them.

Shou lets out a breath he hasn’t realized he’s been holding, cracking the door open and stepping inside. Ritsu’s laying on the dingy bed on his side, facing the wall, and he refuses to look up as Shou enters. Shou can see the angry pout on his lip from across the room, and he might have found it cute if he hadn’t been its target.

He hesitates in the doorway, then moves to the far wall and grabs the folding chair set up in the corner, dragging it over by the bed. He leaves a respectable distance between them as he sits down, clasping his hands in front of him. “I’m sorry,” he says, never one to beat around the bush. “You will see your brother again, I just don’t know if it’s safe yet.”

“You never do,” Ritsu sighs in reply, and it’ll be a lie if Shou says it doesn’t sting. Ritsu shifts onto his back, looking up at the ceiling. His shaggy black bangs flop to the side, showing his forehead. “I know you’re just trying to protect me, but I’m getting restless. My brother’s out there, somewhere, wondering where I am, and I can’t even get a message to him to let him know that I’m even alive. I’m frustrated, and frankly, I’m running out of patience. We’ve been at this for months, and that’s just in the time I’ve been here. You’ve been fighting for over three years, but it feels like nothing’s changed.”

Ritsu’s expressing his feelings, a rare occurrence, but Shou can’t bring himself to appreciate the effort. His heart drops, a ball of worry and anxiety forming deep in his stomach. “Things have changed, though. The number of Claw bases is going down all the time. My father is on his last nerve, I can feel it-”

“How much longer is this going to take, Shou?” Ritsu demands, sitting up and meeting Shou’s gaze for the first time. “Another month? Six months? A year? I don’t… I don’t know if I can go that long without contacting Shigeo, at least.” He crosses his legs on the bed, gaze turning to stare down at his lap, angry, persistent.

Shou’s mouth goes dry, and he feels a rare stab of guilt in his chest. “I don’t know,” he admits, voice soft, and he lets it reflect his feelings of vulnerability and insecurity, if only for a moment. “I feel like it won’t be much longer, but I can’t tell you for sure. I don’t know how much more it’ll take.” He rests his elbows on his knees and lets his face fall into his hands. He swallows, his words heavy on his tongue. “If you’re having second thoughts, it’s okay. I’m not gonna make you stick around, after all. You can go back home whenever you want. I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he admits after a moment of contemplation.

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he feels a wave of dread come over him. He doesn’t want Ritsu to leave. He wants him to stay his partner, wants them to trust each other. He wants Ritsu to be there when he finally shoves it in his dad’s face that he was wrong all along about world domination, but he can’t make him go along with it if he doesn’t want to.

Ritsu turns to him with wide eyes, momentarily shocked into silence, then his expression softens some and he says, “I’m not gonna leave, Shou.”

Shou looks up, catching Ritsu’s gray-eyed gaze for a moment before his friend looks away again. Ritsu fiddles with the edge of his sleeve, agitated. “I just… really miss my brother. I don’t want him to worry about me the way I worry about him.” He runs his fingers over the scars on one hand, marks and lines that Shou knows intimately, because he’d tended them when they were fresh. Ritsu runs his fingers over them, and says, “You’re my best friend, Shou, my partner, and I’m not going to abandon you. My brother is going to need me, but you need me, too. I’ll just have to come up with a safe way to contact him without alerting Claw, that’s all.”

Shou can’t help but let out a laugh, breathy and relieved, and the tension he’s been feeling melts away a little. “Yeah, alright. If anyone can figure it out, you can,” he says. It comes across a bit fonder than he intends, but there’s nothing he can do about it once it’s left his mouth. “Thanks for sticking by me, Ritsu. I know I’m not a very good friend, and I kinda suck at relationships in general, but it really means a lot that you have my back,” he adds, genuinely happy that Ritsu won’t be going away after all.

Shou catches the beginning of a blush on Ritsu’s cheeks as he glances away, hiding his face from Shou in a familiar way. “Don’t thank me yet,” he reminds him with a little smile. Shou knows he’s been forgiven.

Ritsu opens his mouth to say something else, but before he can, there’s a knock on the door. “Come in,” he says instead, turning toward the door.

Higashio opens the door, stepping into the threshold. “We’ve located a Claw base about thirty miles outside Seasoning City,” he says, all business. “We’ve confirmed its location after following an unmarked vehicle there. We’re ready to strike at any time, leader.”

Shou and Ritsu exchange a knowing look. There’s really no debating it. Shou turns back to Higashio and grins, feeling a familiar anticipation building up in him. He stands up, and Ritsu follows at his side.

“Let’s not waste time, then.”

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