#whew this is the longest thing i've written so far

[imtrashraccoon]

Whew! This is the longest one of these I've written so far I think. Still, it really is only part one and while I am confident I can fit the rest into a part two, I make no promises. I realize I still kind of suck at writing action scenes so apologies in advance if this is choppy.

@scrambledmeggys

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day.

Day 29: Protection

The day started like any other before it. You got up, got ready for the day, and helped make breakfast. After that and the clean up was done, Sans and Papyrus went to work while you and Frisk stayed home. It wasn't a bad routine by any means, even if it was boring, but there was a good reason behind it.

Despite the few friends you and Frisk had made, humans were still enemies in the eyes of the King. If he found out you two had been in the Underground for close to a year by now... Well, you didn't even want to imagine how angry he'd be.

"The King Found Out."

You felt your stomach drop. How? You'd been so careful. Had someone betrayed you? What could you do now?

Papyrus seemed oddly calm despite the severity of the situation, yet you could tell he was still rather upset by it, he was just doing his best to hide it. Normally it bothered you to see him suppressing his emotions, but right now, staying calm was probably the smart thing to do.

You'd known something was wrong when Papyrus returned only an hour after he'd left, in fact, you only had to take one look at him to realize he was upset. Yet, you would never have guessed this was the reason why.

"How'd you find out about this?" you asked.

Papyrus took a steadying breath to collect his thoughts before responding. "Undyne Called To Warn Me Not Long Ago And As Of Now, She Is Refusing To Come After Us. However, We Cannot Count On Her To Do So For Long As The King Does Not Tolerate Insubordination."

Sans teleported into the living room just then. He glanced at everyone before going over to see Frisk and ruffling their hair a little. "i checked with al and the good news, is that no one knows about the kiddo. 's just you and paps right now." You noticed he seemed to be gritting his teeth and you couldn't help but feel bad seeing him so upset.

"That Is Something At Least," Papyrus muttered. He propped his chin up on one hand as he contemplated the best thing to do next.

You frowned and shook your head slowly. "No, no, I am not abandoning Frisk. That cannot be an option."

Papyrus huffed, "I Was Not Suggesting That At All. Realistically, this effects all of us or at least it will in the coming days..."

"there's always the ruins... i know a lady who would probably let us stay with her," Sans suggested.

You did not want to go back there. Sure, it was less populated and probably safer, but you wouldn't have left in the first place if it was truely safe. Still, there wasn't anywhere else to go that the King or the Royal Guard couldn't reach.

Sans and Papyrus kept going back and forth with suggestions and ideas. They didn't seem to be able to come to an agreement though and you didn't know what to do. So you sat down for a moment instead to calm down and collect yourself.

Suddenly, Frisk stood up on the couch and clapped their hands loudly to get everyone's attention. They looked a tiny bit frustrated for a moment and you wondered if they'd been trying to speak earlier but no one had paid attention.

"Why don't we just break the barrier?" they signed.

Everyone just stared at them in stunned silence and after a moment, you spoke first, trying to let them down gently. "It isn't that simple, kiddo..."

They vigorously shook their head and continued. "No! There is a way!" They paused and glanced at Sans before signing again. "Flowey told me he can do it if he absorbs the five souls that have already been collected. He'll have enough power then to absorb a thousand Monster souls and..."

"kid." Sans' low voice cut through the silence like a knife and sent chills down your spine. "you realize how incredibly risky that is? there's no guarantee that it will work and what if the Monsters fall down? then it will be all for nothing..."

Frisk smiled sweetly and nodded. "If it doesn't work, I'll just reset and we can try something else. It can't hurt to try though, right?"

Sans frowned and glanced away. Even Papyrus seemed conflicted but he couldn't seem to come up with a rebuttal either.

You remembered meeting Flowey in the Ruins after you both fell down here. He had seemed timid but not untrustworthy at the time, so maybe this really was possible? You desperately wanted to hope it could work as it would guarantee freedom for not just your friends, but all of Monsterkind too.

Frisk turned to look at you and the expression they wore was one of their most Determined yet. You couldn't possibly say no to their idea, not when there was a slim chance it could work.

"Let's at least try," you said. "If we can break the barrier, it will prove that humans aren't the enemy and maybe we can convince the King to make peace. If not, it was at least worth a shot, right?"

The brothers exchanged an indescribable look before turning back to you and Frisk again.

"that still leaves one human soul short..." Sans murmured.

Before you could respond, Frisk interjected, "There's two of us, so we can combine our power to equal another soul without hurting either of us."

They seemed so hopeful and sure of themselves that neither you nor either brother could come up with any reason to protest.

"I Guess That Is The Plan Then," Papyrus concluded. "We Should Move Quickly While There Is Still Time..."

< ~ - . - ~ >

You'd temporarily split up after that. Sans took Frisk out to his sentry station, where they'd apparently been previously meeting with Flowey, to try and convince the flower to help. In the meantime, you and Papyrus headed through Waterfall towards the Capital, purposely trying to remain undetected from anyone who might want to attack you.

You wore the masquerade mask again, hoping the entire Underground didn't know about what you really were. So far, no one had challenged you though, so you were hoping this would go well.

Once you and Papyrus had reached the Wishing Room, he paused and you saw him pull out his phone to send Sans a text message. You wrapped your arms around him and leaned your head against his chestplate. After a moment, he gave you an affectionate head pat which earned him a small smile in return.

"Felt like we were on top of the world a week ago," you hummed quietly.

"We Still Are, Precious," Papyrus responded in a soft tone.

You were about to retort sarcastically when the familiar sound of Sans' magic as he teleported caught your attention. He had Frisk with him but there was no sign of Flowey. You noticed they were holding hands though which you thought was super adorable.

Frisk darted to your side and held their arms up in a silent plea to be picked up. You obliged and set them on your hip so your dominant hand could be free for the moment.

"the flower agreed to help," Sans reported. "said it'd meet us at the barrier, so the easy part's done at least..."

"Good, We Should Keep Moving Then." Turning to you and Frisk, Papyrus added, "Stay Close, And If We Run Into Any Monsters, Let Us Do The Talking."

Feeling quite content with this arrangement, you and Frisk nodded in agreement.

And so you all continued forward, with Papyrus taking the lead while Sans took up the rear and kept an eye socket out for any danger. Thankfully, nothing happened during the rest of the journey through Waterfall.

However, that changed when the massive Hotland sign came into view.

Several large monsters wearing suits of armour were approaching from the direction of Hotland and accompanying them were several smaller flying monsters, also wearing similar armour. Their helmets hid their faces so it was basically impossible to tell what kind of monsters they all were, but the flying monsters all seemed to have the same wing type, that being pointed membrane almost like a fly. All wore nearly identical armour and sported a familiar symbol on their breastplates that you now knew was the Delta Rune.

It was too late to turn back as they had already seen you and by their reactions, pausing and a few even pointed in your direction, they had been specifically sent after you and Papyrus.

Papyrus swore under his breath and stopped in his tracks. Clenching his fists, he glanced over his shoulder at you and Frisk before turning his gaze back to the Monsters up ahead.

Sans moved to stand next to him and you heard him chuckle, although it was hollow and devoid of emotion. "seems the king sent his own cronies to do his dirty work..." he growled. Glancing up at his brother, his permanent grin widened slightly, "shall we give 'em a real show, boss?"

Papyrus squared his shoulders and stood taller. "Indeed... Let Us Make It A Memorable One..." He looked back at you and then at Frisk once more. "Stay Behind Us And Whatever Happens...I Am Glad To Have Known You..."

You nodded and held Frisk a bit closer. You didn't like the looks of this, not only were the brothers completely outnumbered, but you also worried they were completely outmatched. There wasn't anything you could do though, you were just a human...

They didn't even hesitate. Before the guards could even get a word in, the brothers attacked with a surprising amount of coordination. It was actually kind of mesmerizing, if you weren't so scared for them anyways.

As the fight went on though you began to see signs that both brothers were tiring, while only half the nearly a dozen soldiers had been turned to dust or injured too badly to continue. Admittedly, it was rather disturbing to witness the brothers not even hesitate to cut down their own, but you knew it was either them or you. This wasn't a time to play pacifist, not when so many wanted you dead.

You were aware you were starting to get tunnel vision but you couldn't seem to look away from Papyrus. He was currently taking on two of the larger monsters at once and while he seemed to be holding his own, you noticed his movements were becoming desperate.

One of the flying monsters circled around him and to your horror, Papyrus didn't seem to notice.

Something snapped inside.

Suddenly, it felt like you were watching yourself from a third-party perspective.

A streak of purple energy arced from your outstretched fingertips.

It swirled around the monster and before you could blink, completely restrained it like a sturdy rope, including its wings. The monster seemed surprised and, unable to keep itself aloft, collapsed into a heap on the ground.

That was you.

No way... You had magic?!

Frisk seemed equally surprised and they grinned excitedly. "Your eyes are glowing!" they signed.

Papyrus also seemed surprised but only momentarily as he was still in a tough spot. "We Need To Finish This. Now," he growled as he physically picked up and threw one of the monsters into the arms of its comrades.

Sans grunted in reply. The next thing you knew, he'd summoned a large canine-like skull above him. The monstrous creation whined with latent power as it charged up before letting loose a blast of pure plasma.

It vaporized two of the flying monsters instantaneously.

You stared in shock, scarcely able to believe the sheer power on display. You'd always known Sans was strong but you'd never guessed he possessed an attack like that. It must be draining though if he hadn't chosen to use it at the start.

But then, you felt a sharp pain course through your being and it took everything in you not to double over. It was almost like you'd been stabbed in the gut. Yet there was no physical injury.

The pain only served to fuel your fear, which quickly morphed into rage when you saw Papyrus stagger from a powerful sword slash.

This time, your magic took the form of several familiarly shaped spikes. The tips were blunted and had an eye hole on the end but you hurled them into the torso of the enemy monster anyways.

Climbing pitons. That's why they were so familiar. You didn't have time to consider if this had a deeper meaning but now that you had recognized them, there was an itch in the back of your mind that just begged to be scratched.

Sans was immediately by his brother's side and they drew back slightly, but stayed in the way of the monsters getting to you and Frisk. You wanted to help them but you had already been flying by the seat of your pants, what could you even do? How did magic work?

Strong emotions like fear or anger had seemed to have worked so far though. Maybe all you needed to do was channel your feelings into the Determination needed to use your newfound abilities. Was this what hysterical strength was? Whatever the proper term, you needed everything you could muster right now.

You are filled with PERSEVERANCE.

You summoned more of the pitons and took a step forward, putting on the bravest face you could. You had bluffed many times before so why should now be any different?

Surprisingly, your small display of power seemed effective. The few remaining soldiers visibly hesitated but they weren't about to back down just yet. So, you decided to press further.

"That's right! You'd better think long and hard about what happens next. I will not hesitate to cut you down and I will not let any of you harm my kid!" you shouted and looked directly at each one of them.

The tension only seemed to grow the longer you stared at them. No one made a move to attack but they still showed no signs of retreating. You didn't have the ability to effectively back up your threat, but you were banking on the fact that they didn't know that.

Just then, dozens upon dozens of glowing red spears were summoned in front of you and the brothers, pointing at the enemy soldiers. Your heart skipped a beat and the next thing you knew, Undyne herself was standing next to you brandishing another spear.

"Oh yeah, you better believe I'm not missing out on this!" she exclaimed.

Sans summoned three of his blasters and Papyrus summoned a dozen sharp red bone attacks in their own display of intimidation.

The combined efforts of your friends seemed to be the final kick in the pants. Seeing that Undyne had showed up, the remaining guards had no choice but to surrender. It was over...

< ~ - . - ~ >

You didn't stick around long after that. Papyrus and Sans were pretty insistent that you needed to keep going. You knew the unspoken reason was that they didn't want to wait around in case more soldiers showed up and so you didn't protest. Undyne stayed behind to reprimand the guards, but promised she would catch up as in her words, "I want to see the look on that old geezer's face when you show up!"

Papyrus insisted he was fine when you asked and to your relief, it seemed like his armour had protected him from the brunt of the attack. Now that the adrenaline from the fight had worn off, you were overwhelmed with a flurry of emotions, including concern for his wellbeing.

Things were quiet during the elevator ride through Hotland and you could feel that both brothers were staring at you throughout. They obviously had questions but you didn't have any answers for them. In fact, your world as you'd known it up until this point had been literally flipped upside down in a matter of minutes.

What did this mean? And where did you go from here?

#selfshipufpap #undertale #underfell #underfell papyrus x reader #underfell papyrus #reader #named oc #the hand we've been dealt #thwbd #alternate universe #raccoons drabbles

[contrivedchaos]

Fic writers' 2022 roundup:

I've never done one of these before, but I was tagged by @pikapeppa, so I'll give it a shot!

Words written: 54,050. It's not a lot, but other than the year I wrote my master's thesis, it's the most actual writing I've done in a long time, fanfic or otherwise. I'll count it as an accomplishment!

Smut scenes: Oof. Let's see. 6? We'll go with 6. Across four different fics.

New things I tried: Within the last 12 months, I've dipped my toes into the Arcane fandom and finished/posted 3 parts for my (ongoing?) three-part CaitVi series: Every Small Disaster, Say My Name (Like an Elegy), and It's Psychosomatic. It's been so much fun! Hopefully I'll find another opportunity to do more for this pairing. I definitely want to write more of them in the future!

Fic I spent the most time on: My longest fic was Where The Time Goes. I started Chlodine Week 5 years ago for this tiny, desperately-hanging-on fandom, but never wrote anything substantial for it beyond a few oneshots. This year I spent 2-3 months working on a labor of love that I never expected to go anywhere. It was a fic almost entirely for myself, and so far it's my favorite thing I've ever written. I was so happy when it was finished.

Fic I spent the least time on: The first fic for my CaitVi series, Every Small Disaster. (This was technically posted Christmas of 2021, but I'll count it) It was my first time dipping my toes into the Arcane fandom, and I think it came out swimmingly!

Favorite thing I wrote: Definitely Where The Time Goes. Chlodine will always have a special place in my heart. I can't think of a fandom that's more dear to me than the Uncharted fandom. It's been a light through the toughest years of my life so far. I owe a lot to it, and particularly the Chlodine ship. I don't see it being outranked as my OTP any time soon.

Favorite fic(s) I read: I've read so many AMAZING things this year. This list will be DIFFICULT to narrow down. Here goes:

Violence and Variations by Thisisatree (@dancing-b0nes): The Locked Tomb has made up the majority of my fic and book re-reading in 2022, and this one is no exception. Technically started this one in 2021, but it's still ongoing, so I'll count it. While it's like 60% a Griddlehark fic, and sort of a re-imagining of their lives post-TLT, practically every ship, in all their wonderful configurations, gets their dirty day in the sun. I have been on the edge of my seat for more than a year with this one, and it shows no signs of stopping. Also extremely spicy! I'm so hooked!

Twice by BonesforTime: Another TLT fic, this one's a re-imagining of the events at Canaan House in Gideon the Ninth, with such a unique take on what it means to be a Lyctor and on the dynamics of the cavalier/necromancer relationship. And lore and world-building! Another Griddlehark-focused fic, this one constantly has me in stitches, combined with such a raw, intimate writing style for the smut scenes. Bones has such a way with words, and they continue to amaze me with each new installment. Definitely continuing this one into 2023!

Table Manners by Armengard (@armengard): Y'all know I go absolutely feral for anything by Armengard. Their first contribution to the CaitVi space is no exception. They took me out with a one-shot earlier this year that will undoubtedly be on my fic re-read rotation for years to come. Can't say enough positive things about their entire catalog, so this one is also definitely worth a read. And sooooooo spicy! Whew!

Even The Hardiest Desert Blooms Need to Get Wet Sometimes by Pikapeppa (@pikapeppa): Literally the only writer of MLW ships this lesbian will read these days. Their writing style is just that good. It's so refreshing and engaging that if they decided to author a dictionary, I'd probably read it. I jumped back into the Horizon fandom (extremely late, forgive me) after a major surgery over the summer, and the first thing I did upon playing Forbidden West was dive back into their fics. This one is a Drakkaloy fic, and is not only entertaining, but also extremely spicy. Definitely a must-read!

Your Mouth and Its Flowers by driluth (@driluth): Technically late 2021, but I'll count it. This is a CaitVi AU based on one of my favorite books of 2022, This Is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone. The symbolism! The way Red and Blue are literally Vi and Caitlyn, and are so amazingly portrayed in this AU! Definitely a hidden gem for me to find in 2022! But I'm so glad I did!

Writing goals for next year: I don't have any particular writing goals for 2023. I'm looking forward to the Horizon Forbidden West DLC, so if I can get my hands on a PS VR 2, maybe I'll get inspired to dip a toe into the Horizon fandom. I'm definitely tempted by all the WLW potential for this series. Also more TLT...Alecto is coming in September, so there is still more to work with. We'll see!

#personal #2022 roundup #arcane netflix #caitvi #tlt #the locked tomb #gideon the ninth #horizon forbidden west #hfw #piltoversfinest #chlodine #uncharted the lost legacy

[karajaynetoday]

everybody's got their demons, even wide awake or dreaming | part one

Photo credit: Jess Gleeson 

Hello friends! Hope you’re having a lovely day wherever you are in the world. Thank you to everyone who voted in my little Google form thing on what they’d like to see me write next. Here’s Part One of my 5SOS x music journalist story. It’s a little angsty, and as the first chapter this is a lot of introduction to the OC and her story, but I hope you like it! It’s the first time I’ve written an OC into a fic, so I’d love to know your thoughts and if you’re interested in reading more about Lizzie and her adventures interviewing 5SOS.

Shout outs to @wheniminouterspace and @calumrose​ for helping me sense-check this concept, and @spicycal for giving me feedback on it in its draft stages. You’re all gems! 

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings: Fem!OC, minor swearing

More writing here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | if you’d like to be on my taglist go here

Lizzie Lawson was having a bit of a day. Her train had been late, she dropped her coffee moments after receiving it from the cute barista downstairs (and broke her favourite keep cup in the process), and her work computer had decided to run updates the moment she sat down at her desk. Maybe she shouldn’t have bothered to get out of bed this morning.

Her colleagues were tapping away at their keyboards, answering phone calls, and discussing upcoming story ideas with each other - the usual tasks, especially for a Monday morning. Lizzie, computerless and caffeine deprived, had to settle for a cup of instant coffee from the kitchenette, and had taken to tidying up her desk while her computer was restarting over and over again but still somehow not ready for use. She was on the floor, sorting through the snacks in her bottom desk drawer (crackers that were two months’ past their expiry date, some gummy worms, and what seemed like hundreds of cans of tuna) when James, the music editor, stuck his head out of his office and called for her.

“Lawson! Where are you?” James sounded confused. He could’ve sworn he’d seen Lizzie at her desk moments ago, and then suddenly she popped her head up like a meerkat.

“Jimbo! Here. What’s crack-a-lackin?” Lizzie responded, standing up and brushing herself off as she headed towards where James was standing in his office doorway.

“Got a pitch for ya. Step into my office, if you’re finished with your spring clean.” James chuckled as he stepped back inside and sat down on the couch opposite his desk. 

A number of journalism awards were displayed on the shelf above the couch, and the floor to ceiling window overlooked Sydney’s CBD and its tall, grey buildings, with a glimpse of the harbour ocean in the distance. Lizzie had to admit she’d imagined herself in James’ desk chair more than a few times; the music editor of one of Australia’s leading youth and pop culture publishing companies, regularly travelling the world to interview award-winning artists, and assigning and guiding well-crafted investigative pieces on the entertainment industry and those within in. 

But, in reality, Lizzie had only recently worked her way up to being in the music department, after a couple of years on the news desk and a series of casual internships at different publications around the place. But music journalism, and the passion she had for live performances and watching artists grow and develop their sounds and aesthetics over their careers, was where Lizzie had always wanted her career to go. She was grateful to James for having her on the team, but she also knew that he didn’t recruit just anyone - so her writing must’ve been strong enough to get her here. James was a good boss, salt of the earth, always had his team’s back, but he was also a little mysterious, and this morning’s meeting was one of those where his face was giving absolutely nothing away as Lizzie joined him on the couch in the office. 

“So, what’s up?” Lizzie said, trying to hide the nervousness in her voice.

“Well, Lawson. You’ve only been on deck for a few months, but turns out my gut instinct about you has paid off. That profile you did on the 1975 last month has gotten some good feedback and traction out and about.” James spoke in a measured tone, pulling his laptop off the coffee table and opening it.

“Oh! Well, that’s… good, right?” Lizzie still couldn’t figure out exactly why she was in James’ office. Or why she was so nervous. 

“Correct, it is good. It’s been great to see you come into your own a little bit, and develop your interview style. I also really appreciated you stepping in to cover the Matt Corby interview for Hannah the other day, when she had that stomach bug.” James continued, seemingly searching for an email or something on his laptop as he spoke. 

“No worries! Hannah’s notes were really thorough, plus I definitely had a Matt Corby phase when he was on Australian Idol back in 2006! Oof, that fringe, you know?” Lizzie cringed internally when she heard herself starting to babble. 

James snorted, before clearing his throat. “I’m sure Matt was glad the 2006 hairstyle didn’t take up too many words in the final profile piece. He was pretty happy with it though, and his management were too, according to the label. So happy, in fact, that they’re requested you to profile another one of their artists.”

James had Lizzie’s full attention now, and she still couldn’t read his expression. “Really? Me? Who’s the artist?” She asked, trying not to get too excited too soon.

“Yes, indeed, you. 5 Seconds of Summer, or 5SOS. They’ve got a new album due out in a month or so, and their publicist is keen to fly you out to LA for a few weeks to follow them around while they wrap things up in the studio, and do a profile piece on their journey to date. Are you familiar with their stuff? They’re offering us an exclusive, something about the album being linked to their homeland or something, so they wanted to go with an Australian media outlet first.” James set his laptop back down on the coffee table and angled it so Lizzie could see an email on the screen that had a few lines of text and a photo of a band onstage.

5SOS. Was Lizzie familiar? Oh yes, she was familiar. Lizzie Lawson hailed from the western suburbs, and 5SOS was the area’s biggest success story. Aussie boys made good, with millions of albums sold, billions of song streams, thousands of concerts played all around the world, that was their career to date. But for Lizzie, 5SOS were always a bit closer to home. She’d attended the same high school as three of the band members, and Michael Clifford was someone she called her best friend, once upon a time. Ashton had also befriended Lizzie’s older brother Lachlan when they’d worked together at KFC. That was years ago now, and they’d all fallen out of touch, because sometimes that’s just the way the universe works. You grow up and you move on and you don’t keep the same friends, because sometimes they move to the other side of the world and get super famous as successful musicians. Or something like that. Even if they know your deepest secrets, or biggest fears, or hopes and dreams, or you trust them more than anything, sometimes they still leave you. 

Lizzie’s previous state of intrigue quickly became panic, because what if she wasn’t actually being chosen based on the merit of her work? What if the 5SOS team knew about her connection to the band, and were going to use it to manipulate her writing in some way? What if it was all a ploy to get her and Michael in the same room so he could finally call her out on what had gone down between them all those years ago? What if - 

“Lawson! You on planet earth still, or wait?” James snapped his fingers in front of Lizzie’s face to get her attention. She shook her head to clear it, and wrung her hands together in her lap.

“Yep, I’m familiar with their work. A little fuzzy on the most recent work, but I have a bit of knowledge on a lot of their early stuff. And Youngblood, of course. Everyone knows Youngblood. ARIA song of the year, a billion streams, etc etc.” Lizzie spoke, meeting James’ gaze as he cocked his head at her curiously. He knew Lizzie had a tendency to get a little nervous when she was put on the spot, but there was something about her right now that was a little more unsettled than usual that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“Good. Well, if you’re down, the label will cover three weeks accommodation in Los Angeles. Labels don’t usually do that kind of thing, but their manager is super keen for you to get enough quality time with the band to build up a solid profile piece. We’ll cover your daily expenses, I’ll send you instructions for the claiming app, and then we just need your passport to get the flights booked. Sound okay?” 

“Y-yep. Yes. Okay. Right. When would I be leaving?” Lizzie pinched her thigh through her jeans to double check that she wasn’t dreaming, and that yes, this was actually happening. 

“Friday midday. We’ll put some feelers out in LA, and see if there’s any other interviews you can do while you’re there, but your focus will be on 5SOS because they’re picking up the bill for your stay. But that being said, don’t let that sway what you write. They’ve requested you because they like your deep, detailed, open style of profiling, so don’t be afraid to ask some curly questions to get the answers that will craft the right piece, you know?” James spoke firmly, looking pointedly at Lizzie who quickly nodded in response.

“Right, well, I’ll cc you into this email chain with their publicist and manager, and we’ll go from there. You can hand over your other pieces to Hannah, you’ll need to spend the next few days prepping for LA and doing whatever research you need to feel ready. You’ve got this, Lizzie. I know you can do a great job.” James was trying to be encouraging, as he stood up and opened the door to his office, but Lizzie’s heart was pounding with nerves and she barely hear his words. 

She walked back to her desk in a daze, and Hannah had to literally poke Lizzie in her side to get her attention and ask what James had said in the meeting. A few excited squeals and a bear hug later, Hannah was off and running talking about lists of things Lizzie needed to organise before her international adventure was due to begin in a few days’ time. Lizzie, on the other hand, still couldn’t believe it. What the fuck was happening?

--

The next few days flew by in a haze of emails, life admin, last minute shopping trips and a lot of deep breathing on Lizzie’s part, and before she knew it, she was wrangling her suitcase out of an Uber and into the international terminal at Sydney Airport. Lizzie, as a generally anxious person, had arrived the full three hours early for her flight, but her parents had treated her to a flight lounge guest pass (because they wanted her to know they were proud), so she was able to deal with her nerves by eating far too many complimentary croissants and hash browns. 

Soon enough, the time to board the plane arrived, and Lizzie was grateful that she ended up in an empty row of seats, by some miracle. Praise be to the airline gods, or whichever higher power had decided she’d be able to at least try and get some sleep in the next fourteen hours. She’d set her phone and watch forward to Los Angeles time, so she could try and adjust her body clock accordingly, which meant that she’d have to stay up for a few hours at least.

Lizzie tried to be productive, and tapped away at her research notes on her laptop for a little while, before she found herself opening up the band’s instagram page in her browser. The four men staring back at Lizzie through the screen seemed a million miles away from the gangly, excitable teenagers she’d known all those years ago. There was an interesting intensity about them in the photograph, steely gazes and defined bodies under carefully selected clothing, but there was also a peacefulness in their poses beside one another. Like being together, in this moment captured minutes before heading onstage, was the most natural thing in the world. Lizzie found her eyes drawn towards Michael; his dirty blonde hair swept across his forehead (not dissimilar to the style he’d had in their high school days, to be honest), and it was accompanied by some scruffy facial hair and a dangly cross earring in one ear. His grey-green eyes seemed to peer right into her soul, and Lizzie involuntarily shivered at the thought of seeing him again in person in a day or so. 

She was still anxious about whether or not this entire thing was a scam, but nonetheless, she was going to try her darndest to be a consummate professional, and write the best profile story of her life. In her research, Lizzie had reviewed some previous 5SOS interviews, and she’d cringed her way through their Rolling Stone interview from many years prior. She remembered reading it at the time it was published, unable to believe some of the words attributed to the boys she’d once called her friends, and the intense aftermath that followed. Understandably, they’d avoided in-depth profile interviews since, so Lizzie was incredibly curious as to why they’d changed their mind. Why now? Why her? She closed her laptop and drifted into sleep, curled up across three airplane seats and tucked under a thin blanket. 

Lizzie’s shoulders and neck were stiff when she awoke, an hour or so before her flight was due to land. She used the in-flight wifi to check her emails quickly, and noted a new one from 5SOS’s publicist Danielle, which welcomed Lizzie to Los Angeles and explained that she should catch a taxi to her accommodation at the address listed, and that she should give her a call once she was checked in. Right. That seemed straight forward enough.

LAX customs were intimidating as ever (god, Lizzie was so nervous), but Lizzie made it through without incident and was able to quickly make her way into a cab with a driver who seemed familiar with her accommodation address. They drove her to a boutique-looking hotel, and when Lizzie checked in and made her way up to her room, she was pleasantly surprised at how nice it was. A queen-sized bed, a good desk for working at, a nice view from her balcony of the Hollywood Hills, a small kitchenette with a fridge and microwave, and a glorious bathroom that had a very enticing bath tub in it (Lizzie’s shoulders and neck were already thankful for the idea of being able to soak in some nice hot water for a while). 

After checking the room for serial killers (better to be safe than sorry, right?) Lizzie had a quick shower and changed out of her travel trackies and oversized hoodie into a pair of jeans, a clean shirt and a blazer, before opening up her phone and scrolling down to Danielle’s contact. A few deep breaths were required before Lizzie built up the courage to press “call”.

“This is Danielle!” A cheery American accent answered on the other end of the line.

“H-hi Danielle, this is Lizzie, from Junkee Australia. You said in my email I should give you a call once I was all checked in, and I am, so…” Lizzie found herself giggling nervously and facepalmed.

“Lizzie, of course! How was your flight? Long and boring?”

“Yep, that about sums it up!” Danielle’s enthusiasm made Lizzie feel like she had to perk herself up a bit in conversation.

“Well, I’m sure you’re gagging for a nap, but we’ve got to get you adjusted to the timezone so we can make the most of your time here. I’m just finishing up something in the office, but I can swing by your hotel in about 45 minutes, and we can go over your story pitch and the band schedule for the next few weeks, and figure out your interview time slots and other things you can go along to observe, if that works for you?” Lizzie could hear Danielle’s keyboard clacking as she spoke.

“Sure, well, you have my number now, so just text me when you get here. I’ll try my best not to nap in the meantime.” Lizzie’s somewhat dry response got a laugh out of Danielle, who agreed and bid her farewell, ending the call.

Placing her phone down on the bedside table, Lizzie looked around the hotel room that was set to be her home away from home for the better part of the next month, and spotted a coffee machine on top of the mini fridge. If she was really going to keep her no-nap promise, caffeine was definitely in order. 

True to her word, Danielle arrived at the hotel within the hour, and soon Lizzie found herself sat beside Danielle on a fancy couch tucked in a corner of the hotel lobby. Danielle had opened up her laptop, and also pulled a plastic folder of documents out of her tote bag.

“Okay, so… I’m sure you’ve done your own research, but here’s a few hard copies of the band bio, album press release, and a few other tidbits from the label, along with a hard copy of the band schedule. It’s all confidential and coded, the electronic version I’ve emailed you will have the proper locations for everything, but I thought a print out might be handy anyway. The boys are recording some stuff at the studio Calum has at his house tomorrow, so I figured we could introduce you there and then after that figure out what else you’d like to get done. There’s an industry showcase for some of the new songs at the end of the week, and then they’re doing various promo and album prep things, finalising mixes, photoshoots, etc, so there’s a bit of variety for you. Any initial thoughts on how you want to do the interviews for your profile?” Danielle rattled off, gazing at Lizzie expectantly when she finished speaking.

Lizzie blinked at her a few times before collecting herself. “In my research, I found it really interesting to hear the band and some of the fans talking about how 5SOS has evolved into the collective effort of four individual artists, not just the band as one artistic music entity, so I was hoping, if possible, to interview them individually, as well as observing them as a group. Would.. Would that be okay, do you think?” 

Danielle pursed her lips, before breaking out into a smile. 

“I think that sounds exactly like something the band would be willing to do. Damn, Matt Emsell was right - you do know your stuff.” She chuckled, handing the folder of documents over to Lizzie and pulling out the schedule that was on top.

“So studio at Calum’s tomorrow from 10am, I’ll swing by and collect you so we can do introductions, I’ll stick around for a bit just to make sure you’re all good but otherwise I’m just going to let you do your thing. The band have been doing this for long enough now, they don’t need their publicist hovering.”

The curiosity was killing Lizzie. She couldn’t not ask. 

“Danielle, I’ve got to ask this, sorry. Do the band… know me? Know that I’m the one coming to interview them?” Lizzie managed to get out, avoiding eye contact.

“What do you mean?” Danielle cocked her head to one side, clearly confused at the question. “I sent them the Matt Corby piece you did, and they liked that, so that was one of the reasons we asked you out here. So they’re familiar with your work, if that’s what you’re asking?”

“No, um… oh god, I’ve made this super awkward now.” Lizzie laughed dryly, wringing her hands together. “I mean, I know them. Personally. Or at least I used to. I’m from Sydney, and I went to school with Luke, and Calum, and… Michael. So I was just wondering,  um, if they realised that it was me and that was part of why I was asked to come to LA for this…Not really sure why that would make them choose me, but I just wanted to make sure we were all on the same page before tomorrow.” Lizzie finally dared to look up at Danielle, whose expression was unreadable.

“Hmm, well, that is interesting. As far as I know, that wasn’t a factor at all. We all genuinely liked your writing style, so whether or not the boys made the connection, I have no idea. They’re not super keen on any irrelevant personal life stuff making it into this piece though, so if this is going to be a problem for you, we should deal with it now.” Her tone was slightly less warm than before, and Lizzie could sense the protective publicist side of Danielle kicking in.

“Definitely not a problem. I entirely intend to be fully professional, and like you said, my writing will speak for itself. Just wanted to put it all out there. Not a problem for me.” Lizzie spoke up, willing herself to sound more confident than she felt.

“Good. We have no problems here then. I’ve got to run, but text me with any questions, otherwise I’ll see you at 9.30am tomorrow for the drive to Calum’s!” Danielle’s tone was nice and bright again, as she shut her laptop and gathered her belongings, patting Lizzie’s shoulder in what she assumed was some sort of attempt at calming her nerves.

It didn’t work though. Not a problem for Lizzie? Bullshit. Not a problem for 5SOS, and Michael in particular? Seemed unlikely. 

--

Lizzie was worried she’d have a restless night’s sleep because of her overwhelming anxiety about the next day’s reunion, but the exhaustion from her travelling overtook her and she almost slept through her alarm. A quick shower and a shot of espresso later and Lizzie was downstairs waiting for Danielle to pick her up to head over to meet the band.

“Morning! How’d you sleep?” Danielle chirped as she rolled into the car park, her car window down. 

“Very deeply, thank you! The room is really comfortable. Thanks again for organising.” Lizzie mentally urged herself to keep up the small talk as a way of hiding her nerves.

The car ride over was mostly quiet, but when they pulled up outside of what Lizzie assumed was Calum’s house, she definitely felt like she was about to vomit.

“Just so you know, I flagged our conversation last night with the band. About your pitch around the individual interviews, and also about your little… connection to them. Ashton didn’t seem to think it was a problem, so it should all be fine.” Danielle mused, as she opened her car door and hopped out. All Lizzie could do was nod, because her throat was dry and she was starting to panic. She blindly followed Danielle through the front gate and around the side of the house to a building in the backyard, Lizzie strained to hear what sounded like raised, male voices floating towards them as they approached. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it didn’t entirely sound positive.

Danielle knocked loudly on the door and shot Lizzie a reassuring smile, before the shouting subsided and it swung open. Calum Hood stood in the doorway, and Lizzie sucked in a breath. It’d been eight years, maybe more since she’d last seen Calum, and even then, had they spoken? She couldn’t remember. 

Calum smiled at Danielle, and then his eyes flickered over to Lizzie, not quite carrying the same happiness, but not entirely losing it either.

“Morning, ladies. Welcome to casa di Calum, come on in.” He spoke with that scratchy, deep voice of his that Lizzie had reacquainted herself with when watching hours of interviews during her research. 

Danielle stepped passed Calum into the room, and she indicated for Lizzie to follow, which she did. Lizzie could feel Calum’s gaze on her as she brushed past him, but the minute she stepped inside, any sense of warmth or welcome she’d felt before vanished. 

Luke and Ashton were standing over by the sound recording panel, turning to look at Lizzie and Danielle as they entered. Lizzie thought she saw a hint of a smile on Luke’s face (they had survived Year 8 Maths together, after all… that had to count for something, right?), but Ashton was unreadable.

Entirely obvious, though, was the look of bitter disdain on Michael Clifford’s face when Lizzie finally spotted him hunched over on the couch along the wall. Those grey-green eyes were staring her down with a harsh glare. It had familiarity about it, Lizzie realised, but not in a good way. 

Danielle cleared her throat in the silence, and turned to Lizzie.

“Well, I believe introductions might not be required, but in the interest of professionalism and courtesy - “ Lizzie didn’t miss Danielle’s pointed glance towards Michael, who was still scowling silently towards everyone - “Lizzie Lawson from Junkee, I would like you to meet Calum Hood, Ashton Irwin, Luke Hemmings and Michael Clifford, also collectively known as 5 Seconds of Summer or 5SOS.” 

Lizzie waved, and then immediately cursed herself for being so goddamn awkward.  She received a nod of recognition from Ashton, and small smiles from Luke and Calum. From Michael, more scowling. This was going to be a long three weeks. 

“So, Lizzie, why don’t you go through the pitch for the profile that we discussed yesterday? The boys already have a bit of an idea, but I’m sure they’d love to hear it from you.” Danielle was being overly encouraging, but it worked, and Lizzie took a deep breath before speaking.

“Thanks, Danielle. And thank you to you guys, honestly. I know this is a little strange for all of us -”

“Fucking oath it is.” Lizzie heard Michael mutter under his breath, but she continued, undeterred. 

“But, I’m really excited to have the opportunity to interview you and pull together this story. Especially on behalf of the Australian music media. I know they haven’t always given you the recognition you deserve, but I think this piece is a chance to overcome that. Anyway, the specific pitch I’d love to go with is reflective of you as individual artists, as well as the collective band group. If it’s suitable, it’d be great to have the chance to speak to each of you one-on-one as well as a group, to give a holistic view of your journeys as people and as musicians and what you’re trying to achieve with this album. So… yeah…” Lizzie trailed off nervously, clenching her hands at her sides.

“I love it. We’re happy you’re here, Lizzie. I really loved the Matt Corby piece Danielle sent us, and like you said, it was really important for us to have the perspective of an Australian journalist for this story and where we’re at right now.” Ashton’s calm voice broke the silence, as he nodded at Lizzie in agreeance. Luke and Calum nodded too, and Lizzie tried not to look towards Michael because no doubt he was still glaring at her.

“Great! Everyone’s on the same page. I have to dash off to a meeting, but Lizzie has my number if she needs it, otherwise all of you please behave and don’t scare her off, nor say anything that means I’ll have to destroy her tape recorder. Sound good? Good!” Danielle rattled off quickly, moving out the door and shutting it behind her. 

The tension in the air was thick, and it was all seething from Michael’s direction towards Lizzie. She closed her eyes for a moment, before reaching into her bag and pulling out her phone, notebook and pen. She spotted a chair behind her, and turned back towards Luke and Ashton.

“Well, where do you want to start? A group sit down, some general thoughts on the journey so far and what the album experience has been like?” Lizzie offered, trying to make herself sound enthusiastic, but also in control and like she knew what she was doing.

Luke, Calum and Ashton all murmured in agreeance, and moved themselves over to sit by Michael on the couch, while Lizzie dragged the chair she’d spotted over to sit facing them.

“Right. All good if I audio record this?” She asked, hitting record on her voicenotes app after three heads nodded at her.

“So, the album. Where did it begin? Did anyone or anything influence or kick off the sonic direction or the start of the exploratory process?”

The conversation was flowing quite well, Lizzie though. Ashton dominated most of the responses to her questions, but Luke and Calum chipped in their perspectives throughout. Michael didn’t say a word, even when Calum poked him in the side, and instead of glaring at Lizzie he was now staring blankly at the wall over her shoulder. An improvement, sort of, but still not ideal from a journalist and interviewee perspective, let alone when the interviewee was someone who used to be Lizzie’s best friend. 

Before she knew it, an hour had past, and Ashton stood, remembering a meeting they had scheduled with the label and their management team, and bringing the interview to a close. 

As Lizzie was packing up her equipment, she cautiously brought up the topic of the one on one interviews. 

“So, does anyone in particular have free time in the next few days, so I can start on the individual profiling part of the story?” Lizzie asked, her tone hopeful.

Michael’s response was to push straight past her and walk out of the studio, muttering to himself and slamming the door as he went. The loud noise made Lizzie flinch, and she realised her heart was racing and her hands were a little shaky. 

“I’ve got time, LL Cool J. I’ll meet you at Joan’s on Third for lunch, say 1pm?”  Lizzie smiled at the pld nickname Calum slipped into his quiet response to her question. 

“Works for me, C Dizzle Swizzle. Thanks again for your time today, I really appreciate it. Not to sound like a broken record, but I’m really excited for this piece and the chance to tell your story.” Lizzie found herself grinning like an idiot as she met Calum’s warm gaze, and noted that Ashton and Luke were also smiling at her.

“We’re excited too, Lizzie. Even if… some of us might not quite be as enthusiastic as they should be. But, don’t worry. He’ll come round.” It was Luke that spoke this time, his striking blue eyes somehow staring straight into Lizzie’s soul as he looked at her. 

“Here’s hoping.” Lizzie tried not to sound too dull in her response, but it was a challenge. 

Because honestly, how the fuck was she going to do a profile on all four members of 5 Seconds of Summer, if one of them could barely stand being in the same room as her?

Time will tell, Lizzie thought to herself as she walked out of the door to Calum’s studio and into the warm California sunlight. Time will tell. 

Taglist: @suchalonelysunflower​ @blackbutterfliescal​ @redrattlers​ @loveroflrh​ @spicycal​ @notinthesameguey​ @metalandboybands​

More writing here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | if you’d like to be on my taglist go here

#5sos imagine #5sos fanfiction #my writing #ashton irwin imagine #luke hemmings imagine #calum hood imagine #michael clifford imagine #5sos blurb #ashton irwin fanfiction #luke hemmings fanfiction #calum hood fanfiction #michael clifford fanfiction #whew this is the longest thing i've written so far #hope you like it #it's fine if you don't tho #the posting anxiety is REAL omg

[cloudybarnes]

Stages

Pairing: steve rogers x reader

Summary: ultron was harder to defeat than the avengers thought, and y/n paid the price. after the events of her death, steve has a hard time dealing with the loss of his lover

Word Count: 4k+

Warnings: angst, bad language, death of y/n, steve going through the five stages of grief, mentions of religion, small panic attack, depression

A/N: I’m really happy with how this turned out so I hope everyone likes it as much as I do :))

Masterlist

✰  ✰  ✰

“Stark, you worry about getting the city back down safely,” Steve said, “the rest of us only have one job: tear theses things apart.”

Steve looked around the falling city. Ultron had been able to win thus far. He was stronger and more intelligent than any of the avengers could have predicted. 

Civilians ran for their lives, androids flew around like they owned the place, and his friends were doing all they could to stop Ultron and his army.

“If you get hurt, hurt them back.” He continued, “if you die... walk it off.”

If only he knew what was to come.

Ultron’s army wasn’t getting any smaller, but that didn’t stop you from continuing the fight. 

Fighting was the only thing you could do. All you had was your hand-to-hand combat training to help. Androids would come at you, and you punched your way out. 

You grabbed the head of an android, and hoisted yourself around to rip it off, rending the robot useless. On the ground was debris, mainly rods of metal. Grabbing one, you were able to fight off a group of Ultron’s androids that got too close to you.

“Eat shit, robot.” You huffed as you kicked the last one near you.

Looking around to find people to help out, you saw your boyfriend in the center of a group of robots.

He fought well. With his shield, he was able to break the androids in half, but there were too many coming at him at once.

You rushed over to help him. “Incoming!” You shouted as you jumped on top of one of the androids and ripped its head off.

As it fell to the ground, you used your metal rob to plunge into the robots’ chests and rip them apart. Steve did the same with his shield, ramming it into the androids to destroy them.

Once there were no more surrounding you and Steve, you looked him over. You stepped closer to him and brushed your fingers along his face. “You alright, baby?”

There were no major wounds as far as you could tell, only a bruised eye and a busted lip. 

Steve nodded and gently smiled, “I’m okay, sweetheart.” He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “Come on, we’ve got a city to save.”

Unbeknownst to you at the time, that was the last conversation you and your boyfriend would share.

As you fought more androids, you noticed something in the air. Some sort of airship was flying, shooting at you and the avengers. You went to run for cover when you passed Steve.

“(Y/N)!” He shouted. Steve held his shield over top of himself, blocking the bullets from piercing into him. 

You started to run to him when you noticed something. The airship was flying closer to Clint who held a young boy in his arms. 

The airship was coming so fast, Clint couldn’t get out of the way quick enough. 

You looked back to Steve who started running towards you, ready to pull you under his shield. 

With sad eyes, you turned away from him, straight towards Clint into the oncoming bullets. Without stopping to second-guess your decision, you ran full speed to Clint to push him behind a fallen car.

You barely felt the piercing of the bullets with your high adrenaline. What you did feel, was sorrow. 

When Clint had turned around and realized what happened, his eyes started watering. “(Y/N),” he whispered, “why?”

“I’m sorry,” you choked you as you dropped to your knees. “Please, tell Steve...” You couldn’t hold yourself up any longer. Your body gave out from underneath you. As you fell to the ground, the last thing you heard was a cry from your boyfriend. 

You never even got to tell Steve you loved him.

Stage One: Denial 

Steve felt a heavy weight on his chest as he watched you fall to the ground. “No!” Steve shouted as he abandoned his shield and ran over to you. 

In his frenzy, Steve stumbled over his feet trying to get to you. 

Once he finally did, he fell to the ground with a gasp. He looked over your body frantically. There were puncture wounds all over you. Dirt covered your face, and blood slowly seeped through your clothes. Steve gently pulled you into his chest. 

“(Y/N), baby, please stay with me, sweetheart.” Steve cried. “You’re going to be okay, I promise. Clint! Call someone to help her, please. We need to get her a medic as soon as possible.”

Clint’s eyes drooped. He found himself unable to say anything to Steve.

When Clint didn’t do anything, Cap’s head whipped up, giving Clint a good look at how red and puffy his eyes had already become.

“Please,” Steve croaked, “please help her.”

Clint’s lip wobbled, “Steve, there’s nothing we can do to save her. (Y/N),” he sighed, trying to compose himself, “(Y/N) was a hero. She saved my life and the life of this young boy.”

Steve let out a sob, “No, no she’s not dead! She’s not dead, Barton. We just need to get her some medical attention, they’ll be able to help her. I know they will.”

Clint tried to place his hand on Steve’s shoulder, but Cap just shrugged it off. “Stop! Stop acting like she’s dead, Barton. She-she can make it. She’s strong, I know she can get through this.” 

Steve continued holding you, sobbing as he rocked you. 

“I’m sorry, Steve. She saved my life, and now she’s gone.” 

Steve was barely listening. He didn’t want anyone to tell him what he knew deep down. He wouldn’t let himself believe you were dead; not now, not ever. There were so many things he still wanted to do with you.

There was a whole future he had planned with you. There were so many things he wanted to tell you but never got the chance. He wouldn’t let himself believe he’d lost the love of his life before she ever knew that’s what she was. 

“Steve, please. We need you.” Clint begged, “We can’t give her a proper goodbye if the world is destroyed.”

Steve clenched his eyes shut, trying desperately to keep his tears at bay. Clint was right. You would be in even worse shape if the world was destroyed. Once they fixed everything, Steve could find you the help you needed. Maybe someone could save you if he worked fast enough.

Steve gently placed you down onto the ground, and stood up. He looked at Clint with a hard gaze, “Okay, let’s finish this.”

Stage Two: Anger

“No, Tony, you don’t get it! None of you could possibly understand what I’m going through.” Steve shouted. 

It had been only a few days since your death. Steve had let himself understand that you were gone, and all he could think about was how it was his fault. 

Maybe if he had gotten to you sooner, or maybe if he was the one to save Clint and that young boy, you would have still been alive. 

Steve felt so helpless, it angered him. 

Tony sighed, “Steve, we’re in the same boat as you. We’re mourning her just like you are! You don’t get to act like we don’t understand when we’re just as upset as you are!” 

Steve fumed, “No. You’re not as upset as I am. You don’t even feel half of what I’m feeling! You aren’t in love with her, Tony! You still have the woman you love. I lost mine, so no, you have no idea what I’m feeling right now.”

“But I can imagine what it would be like if-”

“That’s just it!” Steve sarcastically laughed. “You can imagine Pepper dying, whereas I watched my girlfriend die. You didn’t see your girlfriend taking her last breath. You weren’t even around (Y/N) when she died! I could have saved her, and I didn’t.”

Clint stepped closer, “but I was there, Steve. I could have done something to help, but I didn’t. She died to save me. It’s not your fault.”

“Well that’s what it feels like! She’s my girlfriend. I’m the one who’s supposed to protect her, and I failed.” Steve huffed. He slouched into an armchair, and held his face in his hands. 

Nat gently walked up to Steve, and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Steve, why don’t you take off for a little while. You can clear your head and try to forget about all of this.”

That made Steve’s head whip up. He glared at Nat. “Forget about this? You mean forget about (Y/N)?” He scoffed and abruptly stood up, pushing Nat’s hand off of him. 

“Sorry you guys don’t like seeing me grieve my dead girlfriend. I’m so sorry it’s such an inconvenience to you that you want me to leave!” Steve growled, punching a dent into the wall.

“Steve, you need to calm down.” Tony instructed, “we’re not trying to get you to forget about her. None of us want to forget her. All we want is for you to start healing.”

Steve half scoffed, half laughed. “It’s been, what, four days? It’s been four fucking days and you guys already want me to move on. I can’t fucking believe this.”

Steve angrily paced around the compound, trying to wrap his head around what was going on. 

Thor gently spoke up. “We don’t want you to move on. We want what’s best for you.”

Steve scoffed at this, but Thor paid no mind as he continued speaking. “What I’m saying is we want you to heal, like Tony said. We don’t like seeing you self destruct like this.”

Nat nodded, “we’re aware it’s only been a few days, Steve. You’ve just been so angry lately, and we’re worried. We’ve never seen you like this.”

Steve threw his hands up, “I don’t know what you want me to do! You think I like feeling like this? You think I like the fact that my girl is gone? You think I like the fact that the only thing I feel anymore is anger? I should have done something!”

“You couldn’t have saved her!” Clint shouted. His eyes were starting to tear up. Clint was always close with you, and he had tried to keep it together since he didn’t want to hurt Steve, but enough was enough. 

Clint sighed, “there was no way you could have saved her, Steve. You were too far away, she was too fast, Ultron was aiming at her, she risked her life for mine; there are so many things that contributed to her death. It seemed inevitable! It was not your fault, and there was nothing you could have done to save her.”

Steve huffed. His chest rose and fell with each deep intake of breath. His eyes darted across Clint’s face, searching for something. For what, he wasn’t sure. Guilt? Sincerity? Strength? Who knows. 

All Steve knows is the heavy weight on his chest. He knows his guilt, his anger, and his resentment. It seems like there’s nothing else for him.

Stage Three: Bargaining

Steve cried today. It had been two weeks since you died. The Avengers were going to give you a proper funeral the next day, and Steve wasn’t ready. 

He wasn’t ready to let go of you.

If only he could have done something. He only he had done something. Steve wishes for nothing more than this to be one sick joke. He can’t live the rest of his life without you. He would rather die than live a life without you in it.

Steve was never a religious man, but he found himself praying to a god he wasn’t even sure he believed in. “Please,” he sniffled, “please, bring her back to me. I can’t-I can’t live my life without her beside me.”

Steve started to cry harder, his pleads desperate. “I’ll do anything! I’ll give up being an Avenger, I’ll give up my home, my friends, the life I know if I could just have (Y/N) back with me. I’d give up my life if it meant she could continue to live hers.”

Steve broke down onto the ground. His body shook with each sob. In his left hand was a framed photo of the two of you from when you first got together. In his right arm, Steve clung to your favorite sweater. Somehow it still smelled of you, and Steve needed that to bring himself some comfort. 

“Please!” He bawled. His harsh cries took control of him. Steve couldn’t do much more than to try to keep breathing. He didn’t feel anything other than the pounding of his head and the ache in his chest. 

He desperately tried to suck in some air between his sobs, but it was hard. He just wanted you back, but he had no other options. 

Steve had heard of a woman that could turn back time. She called herself the ancient one. Steve had tried his best to get her to bring you back, but she wouldn’t budge. She told him that this is what the universe wanted. She said it was (Y/N)’s time to go, and that there was nothing she could do.

Bullshit.

Steve was desperate but hopeless. He knew it was the end of the line, and he had nothing left. He had already offered up everything he could think to give up, but there was no getting you back. 

Steve sniffled, calming himself down enough to speak. “I-I know she’ll never come back, but please, at least help me. I can’t-I can’t live like this anymore.” 

He started to hysterically cry again. “I can’t keep feeling this way. It hurts so much. Please, someone help me! Someone please take away my pain. I’m begging you.” Steve started to hiccup he was so worked up. 

Even though he didn’t realize it at the time, this was the beginning of the end. Steve knows she will never come back, and that’s officially the start of his healing process.

Stage Four: Depression

Steve was barely functioning.

He didn’t hear from his friends, he never left his house, he lost his appetite, and he could never stop crying. 

He was sluggish, sad, and hopeless. 

(Y/N)’s funeral was his breaking point. After they put her in the ground and said they’re goodbyes, he was done for. He cried so much that night, his throat screamed at him the next morning. He barely slept that night; he was too busy crying. 

Steve has been holed up in his house for months. Natasha and Clint had called him so often, he threw his phone away. He couldn’t bear to let anyone see him like this. 

He didn’t want to see anyone. The thought of seeing his friends, your friends, broke his heart. Not only were they reminders that you were gone, but they had people to go back to.

Clint had his wife and children, Natasha and Bruce had each other, Tony had Pepper, Thor had his family, and Steve was left with no one. 

He didn’t have the one person that was supposed to be there for him. He was trying so hard to feel better, but it was tough. Every time Steve thought he was going to pick himself up, he ended up falling right back into his cycle. 

If Steve was able to go a few hours without crying or he was able to take care of himself, he felt immense guilt. He thought he deserved to feel this way. 

He couldn’t bring himself to live a happy life when you don’t get one at all. While he wants to be able to be happy again and not feel as horrible as he’s been, he doesn’t want you to think he stopped loving you. He think if he doesn’t cry for you anymore, you’ll think he gave up on you. The thought of you thinking he doesn’t love you makes him hurt even more. 

Every time he takes a step forward, he falls two steps back. 

That is, until one day, Natasha showed up knocking at his door.

“Steve? I know you’re in there. I brought you some Chinese food. I was hoping to talk. We’re all really worried about you.” She called through the door. 

Steve sat wrapped up in his living room. He’s really only been in that room and the bathroom since you died. He could never bring himself to go into his room, not when it still had your overnight bag from the last time you two spent the night together. 

Steve had your favorite blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He liked to hold onto the things you frequented. 

On shaky legs, Steve stood from his spot on the floor. He knew he should have been embarrassed about the huge mess of his house, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Unlocking the door, Steve hesitantly opened it revealing a sad-eyed Nat. 

“Hey,” Steve croaked. His voice was hoarse and dry from crying so much. 

Nat sadly smiled at him, “Hey, Steve. I was thinking we could have dinner? Maybe talk for a bit. We’ve all missed you these past months.”

Steve took in a shaky breath, “uh, I don’t know if it’s such a good idea, Nat. I appreciate you coming by, but I’m not even that hungry.”

Steve’s eyes started to water, but he willed himself not to cry in front of Nat.

She sighed, and place a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Please, Steve, you need to eat something. If you don’t want me to bother you, I won’t. Just let me be here for you.”

Steve sniffled, and nodded his head. He slowly moved aside so she could walk in. Nat flicked the light switch on, and tried not to gasp at what she saw. Food wrappers littered the ground, blankets and pillows filled the floor like he’d been sleeping there, and crumpled up tissues lied everywhere. 

“I-I’m sorry about the mess. I haven’t really...” Steve trailed off, not too sure what to say.

Nat just nodded her head, “I understand. Why don’t we eat in the kitchen, how’s that sound?”

Steve nodded his head, and trailed behind Natasha as she led him to the kitchen. 

While it wasn’t clean by any means, the kitchen was more tidy than the living room. Natasha placed the bag of food on the counter and sat down. Steve slowly climbed into the seat across from her.

“I got dumplings for you, I know they’re your favorite.” She gently said as she passed the container to Steve.

He nodded his head, “thanks, Nat,” he softly said.

As the two of them ate, the silence wasn’t as uncomfortable as he thought it’d be. Steve felt good being in the presence of a friend. He had expected to feel even more sad with them around since they were friends with (Y/N) as well, but it did quite the opposite. 

It was nice to have someone there for him. It was nice to have someone to talk to again.

“Nat,” Steve sighed, “I just wanted to apologize for how I’ve been lately. I shut you guys out and I’m sorry.”

Nat shook her head, “Don’t apologize, Steve, we don’t blame you. It was a hard time for everyone, but you the most. We just want to be there for you when you’re ready to get back on your feet.” 

Steve shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “Well, I’ve been trying to pick myself up on my own, but it’s hard. Every time I think I’m doing better, I think about her and how I’m still here and she isn’t and I just fall back into my funk.”

He raised his glossy eyes to look at her, “I need help, Natasha. I don’t think I can do this alone anymore.” His voice cracked lightly as he confessed his failure.

Nat took in a shaky breath, trying to keep her composure for him. “I’ll help you Steve, all of us will.”

Steve released a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, “thank you, Nat. I don’t even know where to start to get myself back to who I was.”

“Why don’t we start off simple. Finish eating, and when you’re done go take a shower. I’ll pick up around here so you have a clean area to come back to.” She offered with a gentle smile.

“Okay. Thank you, Nat, really. I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t show up today.” Steve confessed.

Natasha placed her hand over top of his, gently rubbing his knuckles. “Don’t worry about it, we’ll get through this. Together.”

Stage Five: Acceptance

A year after (Y/N)’s death, Steve felt good. 

He still mourns (Y/N), he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop thinking about her, but it doesn’t haunt him like it used to. 

The weight on Steve’s chest is no longer heavy. He feels a new sense of light and happiness.

Steve has learned to embrace what is his present. No longer does he look to the past trying to find ways to change it. He isn’t desperate for the answers that nobody has. While he still is sad over the loss of his loved one, his crying doesn’t keep him up at night like it did in the past. 

Steve, by no means, thinks he’s at the best place he can be. He still has his moments where he has flashbacks of that day in Sokovia. When he sees something that meant a lot to (Y/N), he’ll still break down and cry. 

That’s part of the process.

Acceptance is not getting over the death of your loved one. Acceptance is knowing that there was nothing you could have done. It’s seeing your days as ways to move forward. It’s embracing your bad days, and not letting them define your future. It’s reflecting on the good times you shared, while still being willing to make memories elsewhere.

Steve was able to pick his life back up. He came back to the Avengers and was welcomed with open arms. He’s worked with them enough to the point where he’s ready to go back into the field.

Steve kept building his relationships with his friends. He made sure to not shut them out when he was having a bad day, and he was able to understand that they were only trying their best. While they didn’t know the full extent of what he had been through and what he felt, he knew they cared about him.

Steve was able to regain his hope. He has hope for his future, one he thought would be bleak and unbearable without you, would hopefully turn out well. Steve hopes to get to a place where he is truly happy, but he knows it will take some time. 

In the process of accepting a loved one has died, people often take up new things. Steve started to get into cooking as a way to connect with you. You were always the one to cook for him, it was something you did when you were stressed as well as something you did for fun.

He learned to make your favorite dishes, and tried out some of your recipes. It made him feel closer to you. It was a healthier way for him to keep you in his mind. 

Steve also had a new pattern. Every two weeks him, and whoever was up for it, went to your grave. They gave you flowers and cleaned your spot up really nice. Usually it was just him, Nat, and Clint, but occasionally Tony and Bruce came. Thor only came if he was already on Earth.

Still, it was nice for Steve to have his friends with him. He appreciated them so much. Through every rocky path they’ve been through, it’s nice to know that they’re always going to be there for him. He couldn’t ask for better friends than the ones he has. 

Nat, especially, was such a great friend to him in these times. He thinks one day, maybe they could be something more. Steve wants to be able to give her his all before he asks her out. Some nights he still wishes you were laying next to him, but he thinks in time he’ll be ready to date again. 

While he’s come a long way, Steve still has more to accomplish. He knows this, and he’s ready to take things one day at a time until he gets to a point in his life where things are easy. 

No matter how much Steve goes through or how much he changes, he knows one thing for sure: you will always be in his heart, just like he always planned. 

#WHEW I JUST WROTE THIS IN ONE SITTING #my wrist hurts lol #worth it #i've had this idea for a week or so #so im glad i get to finally get it out #i really love this story #and i'm so happy to have written it #i cant wait to write more for steve #maybe something happy next haha #anyway thank you for reading! i hope everyone loves it as much as I do :)) #also this is the longest thing i've written so far and it's nice to write a longer fic lol #steve rogers #steve rodgers x reader #steve rodgers imagine #steve rogers one shot #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #captain america oneshot #marvel #marvel x reader #avengers #avengers x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine

[pipermca]

Writing Year in Review - 2021

Look, 2021, you had one job. Your one job was not to suck. And although you started to really shape up in the fall, you completely fumbled it at the end. Way to go.

Ugh. Seriously.

On the personal and writing front, it was a bit of a mixed bag. Our summer weather sucked, and that seriously affected my mental health. I don't do well in heat, and the heat waves were terrible. Then when the heat abated a bit, the air outside was filled with smoke from fires, so I couldn't even enjoy being outside. Living in a place where we basically only get three or four months of comfortable outdoor weather, I desperately needed to be outside... And that couldn't happen.

On the other hand, I did manage to finish Mind, Body, and Soul �� by far the longest story I've ever written. I've mentioned that I think that story really ought to have been split into three "books": pre-war, war-time up until the Autobots leave Cybertron, and then landing on Earth to the end of the story. (Each one would have been about 100,000 words.) Those are the three main arcs of the story, but when I was writing they gelled so well as cohesive bits (and my brain was thinking of it as one long, continuous story) it didn't even occur to me to separate them into individual stories.

Ah well. It's just a big epic, I guess. One of my "to dos" is to explain the original plan for the story, which was much shorter but had a much more melancholy ending. After getting to know Barricade and Prowl and Bluestreak better, I decided I wanted to do better by them, and completely rethought the plot.

I finished posting Mind, Body, and Soul in March, and followed that up with a few "extras" stories to cap off the series. Then I let my muse work on other things that amused it and... overall, I think I had a pretty productive writing year! It wasn't quite as productive as 2020 (mostly because I took my foot off the gas after finishing MBS) but in some ways it was more fruitful.

In 2021 I posted 15 works to AO3, which includes the last 9 chapters of MBS. (That total also includes one short fic I wrote years ago that I transferred from Tumblr to AO3). In total I posted 123,108 words to AO3 across those 15 works. I also wrote 107,222 words, but that includes zine pieces that are not yet available, and my IDW2 reviews that I've been posting.

I'm content with those numbers. Previously I was setting a goal of about 10,000 words per month, but considering how atrocious this year's been I think I did pretty good. Interestingly, when I look at my writing tracker, there wasn't a big dip in productivity over the summer like I was expecting. You can tell that I basically went "whew, bleah!" and basically stopped writing for a few weeks after finishing the draft of MBS in early February. XD

My average words per hour is pretty consistent, especially when I set aside an hour or so to write, sometimes doing sprints. With the exception of September (hmm, no idea what happened there!) I averaged around 600-700 words per hour.

I think this is the graph that irritates me the most though. XD It's obvious that I get most of my writing done in the evening, since that's when I've got the time to write. But I know that I'm actually at my most productive in mid-morning... while I'm at work. Argh.

In December 2021 I wrote 8,113 words. I've got a new WIP I'm working on that is very intriguing to my muse, although it's slow going because I'm having to figure out new lore and new relationships on the fly. I can't wait to share that with people.

As for the goals I set for myself for 2021, I actually did pretty well, better than I thought I did!

Finish Mind, Body, and Soul YES! I DID IT!

Finish Must Like Cats and One More Night I got one of these done, finally. 50% isn't bad.

Start on The King and the Bounty Hunter Yes! I've got two chapters drafted and I've been doodling around with the third.

Start the sequel to Peer Review Nope

Apply for two zines Yes! And got in! And pieces are completed! And one of them is for sale now!

Write two comic scripts for practice Nope

So, my goals for 2022, in order of priority:

Finish Must Like Cats

Finish Sun and Moon (working title)

Apply for two zines (if something catches my eye)

Write two comic scripts for practice

Finish The King and the Bounty Hunter

Start By Fire and Flame (working title)

I am quite pleased at the number of stories I've finished, too. Like last year, behind the cut is the first sentence of each of my stories I posted, and the month is it was posted in.

January: Mind, Body, and Soul. (The first chapter posted in 2021 was chapter 64.) While the Autobots struggled to recover from their losses, the Decepticons wasted no time in pressing their advantage.

March: Knell. Barricade's spark thudded against its casing with every frantic spin.

March: War's End. Prowl scanned the dusty horizon, searching for any sign of the shuttles that he knew were inbound.

March: They Grow Up So Fast. Bluestreak stretched as he made his way down the hallway from his room, lifting his arms over his helm and extending his wings until the cables sang with tension.

April: Turn, Turn, Turn. Smokescreen was so focused on trying to get the tiny crystal cleaving to sit just right in the growth medium that he didn't hear the door to the flat open and close.

June. In Your Dreams. Hound woke from recharge to the sensation of falling through the air.

June: What Happens on a Mission... As the smoke in the cutter's cockpit cleared, Smokescreen scanned the control board in front of him.

July: Core Override. Prowl hated prison transfer detail.

September: One More Night. There was so much to do.

October: Going Against Tradition. "Chosen Wind Walker Thundercracker, the Emperor will see you now."

October: Just the Three of Us. To anyone casually walking by, the scene wouldn't have looked too odd: just a man enjoying the sun and the sand, kicked back on the hood of his sports car and listening to some tunes.

October: Claim Rejected. “While I appreciate all of your efforts to keep me safe,” Optimus Prime said, glaring – glaring!– around the meeting room at his command staff, “I cannot condone sending other Autobots in to fight Megatron for me.”

November: Debts. Just like usual, Smokescreen was waiting for Prowl outside of their usual diner.

November: A Gift from Morpheus. The crack of the rifle seemed to stop Smokescreen's spark.

December: Deck the Halls. Hound had not been prepared for what greeted him when he got home from the office on Saturday evening.

And that's a wrap! I hope everyone has a very safe, calm, and uneventful 2022. (Key point: uneventful, as in not exciting, as in completely precedented.)

#progress report #year in review #on writing

[eragonpaolini]

ok I am interested in hearing about the mouse novel you started in 3rd grade

For anyone wondering what this is about, I mentioned this story a couple times in the tags, I don’t even remember on what posts lol. It took a minute to dig it up but I finally found it, wasn't even on my computer, it was on my backup drive lol. I’m gonna liveblog my reactions to it. Probably gonna be a long post, so

It's bad. It's very bad. I thought I started it in like 3rd or 4th grade or something but I found the earliest version in my 2009 folder which was 6th grade for me 😭. I don't think I was that bad at writing in 6th grade but it's really very bad. We're talking worse than My Immortal bad. It's possible I started it earlier and moved it to more recent folders over time (cause I took like 3 years to write like 6 pages lmao) but this is worrisome. I also found updated versions in my 2010 and 2011 folders which went up to 8 pages whoo! (But somehow only 2k words for the longest versions??) The "last modified" date is worthless cause I've moved it between like 3 computers and 5 flash drives/backups so all the versions say 2017.

That being said, there is a very marked improvement in the writing quality over those 8 pages that I'm almost proud of. That last page is frankly perfectly readable as a novel written for 8-12 year olds, though the story structure still needs a ton of work.

Oh shit, I just dug into the file metadata and found out it was created in May 2007, so 4th grade! Whew! I have an excuse for how bad it is. The newest version was last modified in April 2011 so that totally explains why it's so much better towards the end. Huh, just noticed I actually updated the intro in the most recent version, which makes it slightly more palatable lmao.

Well now that I've finished liveblogging my detour down memory lane, what the hell's the story about?

A town called Miceville exists in the lowest sub-basement of a human apartment building. The main character (named Cheddar Squigee) gets himself into a predicament, lost in the wilderness due in part to his own bad decisions and in part because of his older brother's dumbassery. Hopelessly stranded with no hope for rescue while his family is worried sick looking for him, Cheddar goes on an adventure with ghost pirates to find some treasure and save them from their curse (because I’d just watched Pirates of the Caribbean), before eventually reuniting with his family. I only got as far as the “he got stranded” bit with the beginnings of lore for the ghost pirates.

Some highlights from the story:

I think the very idea of a mouse story came from me reading some Geronimo Stilton books around that time. Look them up if you haven’t heard of them, they’re great books in my memory from when I was like 10 so I’m sure they’ll hold up over a decade later /s

There’s an “I didn’t know you could read” reference to Harry Potter

The entire ghost pirates thing is obviously lifted from PotC which I think is just hilarious

There’s a Clip Art pic of a mouse on one of the pages :)

The entire thing is written in Comic Sans font except for two parts which are 1) The chapter titles which are in Impact (that meme font fyi) and 2) The main title which is in the old MS Office 2003 WordArt lmao

Some lowlights:

I was a Brand Shill™, for Lamborghini of all things

I made Cheddar’s brother a major dick and a dumbass, which absolutely was not at all inspired by my relationship with my IRL brother, not one bit. There is nothing for a therapist to unpack there.

I don’t know why I specified the mouse city was in the sub-basement of a human apartment. The humans were never supposed to make an appearance or have any impact to the story. I could just have easily made it a full mouse world like Redwall or whatever.

Everything happens so fast (what is pacing and plot structure?) so if I finished the story at the current pace I don’t think it would break 30k words, not even a novel.

Anyway, thank you so much for giving me an excuse to take a couple of hours looking at this crappy story I wrote over a decade ago. No, no one can read it it’s still very bad.

#sorry it took so long #I had to find out where it was saved which took a while #and then I wanted to set aside some time to do a proper retrospective #this was fun #thanks for the ask! #hashtag #asks #anonymous