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#whether it’s a fic a book or a movie I’m always cringing at how long they let the fucking water running
stressed-homosexual · 3 years
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Am I the only one silently urging the characters not to let the water run when they have sex in the shower?
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writing-in-april · 3 years
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My Date with the President’s Daughter
Spencer Reid x Female Reader (Spencer POV)
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Summary: Spencer has a date with the President’s daughter, who he’s been dating for a while in partial secret. He hasn’t seen her in person for a while so he’s had to settle for another form of communication.
A/N: Ok just to get this out of the way— this is not a politically charged fic, I don’t express my own political beliefs in this fic nor do I express my opinion on the beliefs of others. The president in this fic is entirely made up and I just thought it would be cool to release it on Inauguration Day like the nerd I am. I do not want a political debate in the comments, this blog is not meant for that. This fic is for fun and to make people a little happier in these trying times. Please respect my wishes. This was a really fun way to write a twist on Spencer dating someone famous and- I wonder if anyone can spot the West Wing reference I used 🤔Thanks to @spencers-dria again for always helping me out with my fics 🥰This is also apart of my unlinked fic series called Spencer Reid & Letters! Requests are open and thank you for reading!
Warning: Vague political talk, References to keeping their relationship secret earlier, Avoiding the paparazzi- that should be it.
Main Masterlist Spencer Reid & Letters Word count: 1.6k
She didn’t have to put her short little letter to me on the back of a postcard, but she always did it this way. I remember when she first told me why she did it. We were sitting cuddled up on my couch at the early start of our relationship. I had asked her why she always insisted she send her letters on the back of a tiny card, she would’ve had so much more room if she got out a piece of paper.
She said she got into the habit of sending them to her father whenever he was away on business. Her handwriting had been horrible as a child according to her and her father had suggested she try to fit all of her thoughts onto a postcard. So, now she sent all of her letters neatly handwritten with the smallest of letters, so small you could almost barely read them, on the back of a postcard.
The postcard I had gotten late today, delivered by one of the last people on duty this late at night, was a picturesque view of the White House. The grass bright green and the outside covered in pure crisp white, a statuesque image of American democracy. Now, she didn’t send this to me because she wanted to express her political views and patriotism in a postcard, it just so happened to be where her father lived.
The fact that she was the President’s daughter used to intimidate me a lot when I first met her. I hadn’t immediately connected the dots in my head that she was the first daughter when we first met, though I could tell I had seen her somewhere before. Though, my first assumption was that maybe she had been a regular at my favorite coffee shop, not the daughter to the President of the United States. Literally my biggest boss.
First time I met him was also my first time in the east wing; she had some help from her secret service detail to sneak me in through the back. I only ever nervously stutter when I’m in intimidating or stressful situations and I’m pretty sure I barely got a sentence out the first ten minutes after I had met him. Luckily, he did seem to like me, though I’m not really sure why. Y/N told me once it was because he found my intelligence extraordinary and my constant willingness to share facts endearing. I always blush when I remember that, she was always so sweet to me and the fact that her family loved me as well caused my heart to swell exponentially. I stared at the captured view for a few seconds longer before the dots had fully connected in my head, I may have an eidetic memory, but sometimes it took me a minute to get her subtle hints. She didn’t actually live at the White House, she had her own house in D.C. But, this postcard meant one thing. She’s home.
Each postcard she sent me had a picture of wherever she was while she was traveling the world, it was a small gesture that made me feel closer to her, I always tried to imagine I was there with her at every location she sent. She had been out of the country for at least a month on business and even before that we hadn’t seen each other for a while, I had been stuck on a long case that kept me away from her for half a month.
A month and a half, that’s how long it's been since I’ve had her in my arms. I turned over the card expecting to see it filled with more words than most people would think could fit on the back of a postcard to let me know when I could see her, but this was not the case. Instead, the back of the card contained less words than normal. Only the words- meet me at 10pm at our usual spot.
My body moved faster than my brain, getting up to pack up all my things to rush to our usual spot. My watch sat over my cardigan sleeve on my wrist and it blinked up at me letting me know I only had 30 minutes till I had to get to the other side of town.I still had some paperwork left, but enough that I could push it off till the next day. Once I had gotten all my stuff together I scurried over to leave through the glass doors.
“Are you heading home, Spence?” A voice from inside the bullpen called out startling me out of my thoughts, I had thought everyone had left for the night. I turned around to look at the owner of the voice, JJ, who had come back from the break room to finish her large stack of paperwork that still remained.
“Actually no- I have a date.” A small shy smile made its way onto my face, I still felt very shy when I talked about my relationship with the team. When I had first told them after around 8 months into our relationship, they had thought I was pulling their legs. Once they did realize that I was in fact, not bullshitting them as Morgan had suspected, the questions had immediately come down on me. The ogling at my relationship never really ceased in the months after it had come out to the team, and the rest of the world. We mostly still tried to keep it under wraps, but the fact that the press now knew about me after some photos got leaked from a date only made the team ogle even more.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to who you go on dates with, it’s like something out of a movie.” JJ joked, then yawning again and leaning her face into her palms. “Well- I still have a lot of paperwork to do, you go enjoy your night, Spencer. I know you haven’t seen her in a while.”
My mind had already begun to shift away from JJ as soon as she brought her up, I was practically vibrating in anticipation, I couldn’t wait to see her.
—-
The rare book store on the east side of Quantico had been my favorite for years, ever since I had moved out here from Vegas actually. So much so that the owners, an older couple named Margaret and Dan, both knew me by name and knew almost exactly what books I wanted every time. The both of them had immediately jumped at the chance when I had hesitantly asked them to let the both of us meet up here, I had been desperately trying to find a place outside of my apartment where we could meet up.
When I entered the shop through the back it was already deserted just for us, she must have contacted Maggie and Dan to ask them if we could have the store for the night. The store was packed full of the rare books the owners had both acquired over the years, ranging from old tales and poems written by Edgar Allan Poe, the dark brother’s Grimm tales, to almost any old book that you could think of. It was almost to the point where I thought maybe Maggie and Dan should upgrade to a bigger shop.
“Long time no see.” A voice piped up from the mostly dark corner where she sat in a dark green armchair only partially illuminated by a standing lamp. Broad grins broke out on both of our faces before we both ran to each other, engulfing ourselves into an overwhelming bear hug.
“I missed you so much you don't even know.” Tears prickled at the edge of my eyes, though I wasn’t afraid to admit that us being apart for so long made me tear up.
“I've got a pretty good idea, I missed you so much as well.” She sniffed and then sighed into the crook of my neck. I moved my hand up to cradle her head to try and bring her as close as possible to me, even though there was already not even an inch of space between the two of us.
A nagging thought was dancing around in my brain, the card was so short and abrupt. It wasn’t like her to not be long winded whenever she wrote to me, she even had a tendency to be worse than I was sometimes.
“Why was the card so short? You feeling ok?”
“I just couldn’t wait to see you… It’s been so long since I’ve seen you...” Her tone of voice made me sad, it had been so lonely for me as well when we were apart.  “I never want to be away from you for that long ever again.”
“Move in with me.” The words blurted out of my mouth before I could really think about my words. I didn’t care whether it would be feasible or not, I just knew I never wanted us to be apart for so long ever again.
“Well-“ I cringed a little at her words sensing a rejection, I worried that I had just screwed it all up by asking. However, again she surprised me, “We might need to get a new place to settle my father’s worries about security.”
I breathed out a breathy laugh of relief at her words, enveloping her into a bruising kiss, my worry and anxiety immediately melting away. I couldn’t wait for the next chapter of my life with the President’s daughter.
—-
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hookedonapirate · 3 years
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Figure of Speech
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Summary: Killian has been in love with Emma Swan ever since he was eleven and she was his babysitter. The last time he saw her was the day he kissed her, thinking they were having a special moment… right before she headed off to college with her boyfriend.
When their paths cross years later, he’s just happy she remembers him—because while he’s a talented, free-spirited journalist who takes risks and has a knack for finding trouble, Emma is an accomplished and sophisticated politician who’s planning to run for President of the United States. 
Sensing Killian Jones—the boy who once knew her and supported her long before she entered the soul-sucking world of politics—is the key to unlocking a part of herself that’s been dormant for so long, she hires him as her speechwriter. As she travels the world to launch her 2020 presidential campaign, he is by her side, helping Emma find her voice again. 
The attraction between them sizzles, but when they eventually give into it, will their relationship withstand the demands of the election and scrutiny of the public?
A/N: Thank you @ultraluckycatnd​ for beta reading and @onceuponaprincessworld​ for your help with this! Thank you @captainswanmoviemarathon​ for starting the event and everyone on discord for all your help!
Before you read, there are a few things I want to clarify.
First off, this story is heavily based on the movie, Long Shot, for the Captain Swan Movie Marathon, with some elements of OUAT weaved in. What I’m referring to mainly is that the president in this fic is in no way based on President Trump. In other words, I am not using this fic to bash the current U.S. president in any shape or form, or any other real-life president. So if you plan on going into this with that mindset, I beg you to hit the back button right now. This story in no way reflects my opinions or views, I mainly stuck to the plot of the movie.
Secondly, I hope that I have made it perfectly clear in the beginning scene of this chapter that Killian is not actually a white supremacist, he is only going undercover to get his story. Nor is he Jewish like Fred Flarsky is in the movie. He’s the Killian we all know and love. So please don’t send me hate messages accusing me of either being a racist or writing Killian as one. I was very torn whether to include this scene or not but I feel it is relevant to the plot and shows Killian’s character in this story as very passionate about what he believes in and is a big risktaker when getting his point across, so I decided to keep it.
Third of all, I know some of you are sick of hearing about politics, especially since the U.S. election is so close. But this is not a political movie, it’s a romance. There is of course some talk of politics, but I’ve tried my best to keep it to a minimum. So if you’re worried about that, please don’t be. The movie genre is a romantic comedy.
Writing this fic was a huge wake-up call for me because it’s the first one in a while that I’m not proud of, for lack of a better word, because I have not been able to spend much time on it. I have so many wips in my docs it’s not even funny and I think that has really impacted how this chapter turned out. But because of this fic, I decided to take some time and work on finishing some of my wips before posting them, with the exception of this one because today is my posting date.
With that said, because I’ve been pushing myself to finish my wips, I finished writing my first original novel after working on it for two years, and I will be publishing it soon. So be sure to look out for Follow My Lead, a romance about a former ballerina and a gym owner.
Okay, now I am done with my rant, so please enjoy!
AO3 FF.N
Rated: M
2018
“So you guys are fairly active on social media, right?” 
“Yeah,” Jaxon answers absentmindedly, his eyes focused on the cue ball as he lines up the shot.
“How many times a day would you say you Tweet on average?” 
Jaxon taps the ball, sends it into its pocket, and high-fives Marcus, ignoring the question.
“Hey Rogers, ready to get a Swastika tattoo?!” Richard calls from the other room as the tattoo artist is finishing up with him.
“No, that’s okay, I’m cool,” Killian replies nonchalantly through the large lump in his throat, glad his British accent didn’t leak out as he takes his turn.
“Oh, come on, man, we’ve all got ‘em!”
Killian gulps and looks around the room, all the members pulling up their shirts to show their tattoos on the left side of their chest. He was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but he can sense Jaxon is already suspicious of his motives. He forces a small smile, pointing to himself with his free hand as he holds up the cue stick in the other one. “You want me to get a swastika tattoo?”
“Yeah!” the group chants in unison.
“Then I’ll get a swastika tattoo,” he agrees submissively, hoping the anxiety he feels isn’t clear in his voice. He removes his leather jacket, or rather the jacket he borrowed from Victor, depositing it in a chair before he walks into the adjacent room where the tattoo artist is waiting for him. He sits in the parlor chair, his stomach twisted in knots as he chooses his left bicep for the tattoo and cringes at the thought of getting it. He’s never gotten a tattoo before, and not only is he afraid of needles, but his beliefs don’t at all resemble anything a swastika symbol resembles. Tattoos are removable, though, right? 
When the needle pierces his skin, he pinches his eyelids shut and yelps, “Blo-ooooody he-eeeell!” He realizes his mistake immediately when the words screech out in his thick, British accent. Plus, bloody hell isn’t exactly an American phrase. 
He’s praying no one noticed, because if they did, they would know he’s lying about who he claims to be, but when he flips his eyelids open, everyone’s staring at him.
Fuck.
Jaxon, the leader of the group, enters the room with Killian’s jacket in one hand and wallet in the other, raising it for everyone to see Killian’s driver’s license. His heart flitters with panic. “Look at this. He’s been lying to us. His name isn’t John Rogers,” Jaxon announces angrily. Marcus appears next to him, holding up his laptop. On the screen is the Storybrooke Advocate website with Killian’s profile pic on the page. “It’s Killian Jones. He works for the Storybrooke Advocate! He’s a fucking journalist!”
“Wait, wait, wait, I can explain!” Killian pleads, raising his hands in surrender. 
The members circle him like sharks, and everything becomes a blur as they yank him from the chair and slam him against a table. 
“What are you doing, trying to fucking embarrass us, huh?!” Jaxon screams at him. “Who sent you?!”
“No one sent me!” Killian claims adamantly, fear and pain crippling him as he tries to think his way out of this. “I was just…”
Before he can finish his sentence, Marcus reaches into Killian’s jeans pocket as the others hold him down, and pulls out his phone. Which is currently recording everything. “He’s been recording us this entire time!”
Jaxon’s face is red with anger, steam practically emitting from his ears as he grits his teeth and fists Killian’s shirt in a vice-like grip, pulling him so close that Killian smells his wretched breath. “You infiltrated our group! You’re gonna fucking die!”
They say your life flashes before your eyes during your very last moments. They say it’s like reliving every moment that’s ever stuck with you—every moment that’s ever made an impression on you. Killian always thought when he was finally shuffled off to sleep with the fishes, his life would appear in sequence or at least in random order, featuring all the people who have played a vital role in his life—his parents, his brother, his best friend—but he never thought one person would stick in his mind. He never thought all the images flashing before his eyes would be of one person and one person only.  
The woman he’s been in love with since he was eleven years old.
Killian remembers when he first fell in love with her like it were yesterday. Or at least an eleven-year-old boy’s version of love. He remembers the song, It’s So Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterday by Boyz II Men, was playing on the boombox. He remembers what day it was, what he was wearing and the fuzzy feeling in his chest. He remembers thinking about one of his favorite movies, The Sandlot, how Squints tricked the lifeguard, Wendy Peffercorn, into kissing him and how she eventually married him even though she was older and way out of his league. 
Back then, a three or four year age gap seemed like a huge deal, but maybe because he was so young and she was… well she was so grown up and mature and very beautiful for her age. Not Wendy Peffercorn. Well, he supposes Wendy was too, but Killian had his real-life version of the movie character. His version of her was also blonde. She may not have been a lifeguard, but she was his next-door neighbor and also his babysitter ever since his brother left to join the Navy. Killian’s bedroom had an excellent view of her backyard and he would occasionally watch her sunbathing by the pool as she listened to music on her headphones or read a book in her bikini. Not only did she have a beautiful body, but she was wicked smart. She was passionate about the environment and the things she cared about. She was super nice to him—which went a long way with him—and had a ridiculously cute, dimpled smile. She was perfect. An angel.
Maybe that’s why, right before his death, she’s the only one he sees.
Before he met her, he never considered kissing a girl, or even liking one for that matter. He thought girls were gross and had cooties. But Emma was no girl. Not even at fifteen. She was a woman. 
Emma Swan was his Wendy Peffercorn.
She still is. Even as he’s being threatened by a group of angry white supremacists. 
She’s all he sees.
“Did you know that every year, the school throws away over five hundred tons of recyclable garbage? And no one cares!”
“Aye, it’s rubbish. But how do you get muppets to care about stuff they don’t care about?” 
Emma shrugs. “They’ll just…” She bites her bottom lip, hesitance etching her features, “they’ll just c-care because it’s the right thing to care about.” She may not have all the answers, but she’s the most inspiring person he knows.
He smiles and rests one elbow on the counter, his chin perched in his hand as he admires her passion for the environment. He admires how beautiful she is in simply a snug pair of blue jeans and a white t-shirt with a picture of a buttercup on the front. He admires her waist-length, golden hair, how it glows radiantly in the sunlight cascading through the kitchen window and how it swishes from side to side when she turns around to grab a mitt and pull the pizza out of the oven. Delicious aromas of crisp, baked bread, melted mozzarella cheese and sweet tomato sauce waft through the kitchen, making his stomach growl. Licking his lips, he jumps off the stool and heads over to grab a slice from the pan.
She gently swats his hand away. “Don’t touch, kid, you’ll burn yourself. Let it cool, first.”
He frowns as he returns to his seat. He hates it when she calls him that. He doesn’t want her to think of him as a kid; he’s almost a teenager! Heeding her warning, he does his best to resist the temptation of getting up again and grabbing a slice, even though the gooey, golden cheese, colorful toppings and toasted crust look amazing. Instead, he places the hand she’d touched on his cheek. He never wants to wash his hand or his cheek ever again.
Emma continues the speech she’d prepared for her Student Council election. She’s running for president, and he is not only her biggest supporter, but he also came up with her campaign slogan, ‘Stay calm and vote for Swan’. He was quite proud of himself when she actually thought it was clever enough to use.
“I would definitely vote for you, Swan.”
“Thanks, Killy,” she says, ruffling a hand through his hair.
Now that’s a better nickname. Though he hates when his brother calls him Killy, he never minds when Emma does. 
Once the pizza is cool enough to eat, Emma returns to the oven, using a pizza cutter on the pie. She plates two big slices, one for each of them, and brings them to the counter, sitting next to him. They eat their pizza in silence at first, besides the yummy food noises they make.
“Thanks for helping me. I know it’s probably boring hearing my speech over and over again.”
He shakes his head. “Not at all,” he mumbles through a mouth full of pizza. “I’m just happy to help,” he smiles. His hand pauses midair, still holding his half-eaten slice of pizza as he locks eyes with his beautiful babysitter. He wonders if she feels the same way he does, and normally he wouldn’t think it was possible, but the way she’s looking at him right now makes him rethink everything.
She reaches out to him, and he closes his eyes as she caresses his cheek. His heart slams against his chest and he loses all the air from his lungs. And that’s when he knows he’s totally and completely in love. Her hand feels so wonderfully warm, he wants to spend the rest of his life feeling her touch and immediately gets a chill when she pulls her hand away. 
“All better.”
His eyes flip open to see Emma wiping her hand with a napkin. She looks up at him and smiles. “You had some sauce on your face.”
He chuckles on the outside, but internally he’s berating himself for being foolish enough to think someone like Emma Swan could possibly like him. She’s way too good for him. 
Especially when he’s thirteen and has to wear glasses. As if hitting puberty isn’t bad enough, he also has to sport the most hideous pair of thick-framed glasses. By then, his father said he was too old to have a babysitter, so he didn’t get to see Emma as much. He mowed the Swans’ lawn occasionally, but she was gone most of the time with extracurricular activities and prepping for college. He convinced himself she could never be into someone like him. Someone who was nerdy and awkward and four years her junior. 
Until one day when he’s fourteen and she’s eighteen.
She’s leaving for college and he’s been in his room sulking while listening to It’s So Hard to Say Goodbye for two weeks, not looking forward to her departure. He’s afraid he’ll never see her again. But he’s also happy for her. She’s off to better and greater things, greener pastures as they say. She’s going to Harvard and leaving him in the dust.
He’s on the front porch, sitting on the top step, his chin in his hands and his elbows propped up on his knees as he watches Emma and her parents packing up her things. He wants to offer his assistance, but this seems like a very important bonding moment for the three of them and he doesn’t wish to interrupt. He can tell Mr. and Mrs. Swan are both incredibly sad but also very proud of their daughter, and there are lots of hugs and tears by the time the car is packed. Then Emma says something to her parents and they wave at Killian. He smiles and waves back before they head inside.
Emma walks over to him, and he immediately stands up, making his way down the remaining steps.
“Hey,” she murmurs, smiling at him.
“Hey,” he parrots, offering a small smile. “So, you’re all packed?”
“Yeah, we’re leaving soon.”
Nodding nervously, he scratches behind his ear as he looks away, not sure what to say.
“Look, I’m not a goodbye person, but — ”
“Let’s not say goodbye then,” he suggests and offers his hand. But instead of shaking it, she throws her arms around him. Killian’s stunned, and can’t even move at first, completely paralyzed in her embrace.
Emma’s hugging him.
He slowly molds into her body, his arms wrapping around her waist as she tightens her hold. Her hair smells like strawberries and cream as he buries his face there. He never wants to let her go.
“I’ll miss you, Killian,” she whispers in his ear.
His heart does a little somersault, and he whispers, “Not a day will go by when I won’t think of you.”
He feels her smile against his neck. “Good.”
That one simple word does something to him and he grins into her hair, holding her tighter. 
She breaks the hug long before he’s ready, and he’s still awestruck as she leans in to kiss him.
Bloody hell. 
Emma Swan leans in for a kiss as he springs forward to meet her halfway. Their lips finally connect like they had so many times in his dreams, but he doesn’t fail to miss how surprised she is when a gasp escapes against his mouth. She doesn’t pull away, but he knows he probably should after realizing she was actually going for his cheek. But her lips are so soft and warm and taste like cinnamon and cocoa, and he swears they move ever so slightly against his. He still has his arms around her, pressing her to him, and her center suddenly moves away from him. Forcing himself to break the kiss, he looks down and notices the very prominent and very hard erection tenting his pants.
Fuck.
His cheeks are on fire as he looks up, apology and embarrassment flushing his face. He’s expecting her to either slap him or storm away and never look back, but she stares down at his groin, her mouth agape. 
“Bloody hell, I’m so sorry, love.”
“It’s okay,” Emma squeaks as her eyes snap up to his.
Just then, a ‘69 Ford Mustang pulls up in front of Emma’s house, the music booming through the speakers at an obnoxious volume.
He panics when Emma’s boyfriend gets out of the car and makes his way over to them. Killian forgot Neal was riding with Emma to Harvard, where he was certainly not attending. Neal could only get into a community college.
Killian quickly pulls off the backward baseball cap from his head and uses it to cover his obvious boner. 
“Hey, babe, ready to go?” 
She nods and looks at Killian, a small smile tilting her lips. 
“Bye, four-eyes,” Neal taunts with a condescending sneer as he wraps his arm around Emma’s shoulders.
Really?
Killian bites his tongue as he rolls his eyes. That nickname really gets old. Can’t he think of something more original?
“Don’t call him that,” Emma scolds her boyfriend, swatting his chest. “He has a name.”
“Sorry, I mean Killian,” he says insincerely before turning around and pulling Emma with him.
As Killian watches them walk away, pushing up the bridge of his glasses with his finger, he would give anything to be the one with his arm around Emma, the one leaving with her instead of being the one she leaves. She cranes her neck to look at him as she walks away. He swears she’s looking at him longingly but he’s sure he’s only imagining it. She’s still gazing at him until her parents emerge from the house. Neal doesn’t even have the courtesy to open the door to her parents’ station wagon for her, and instead hurries into the back seat. 
Arsehole, Killian thinks bitterly as he watches the vehicle pull away from the curb. Emma stares at him through the passenger’s window, and their eyes connect. He flashes one last smile and waves. She smiles back at him and presses her palm to the window before she disappears down the road and out of his life, leaving a permanent gaping hole in his heart. 
He always thought not being able to see Emma anymore was the scariest thing he’s ever experienced. But that was before he was inked with part of a swastika tattoo so his cover wouldn’t be blown. That was before he fell from a two-story building and landed in a dumpster. Luckily the trash bags cushioned his fall and didn’t contain any glass or other sharp objects. He hadn’t really thought that through when he jumped. But then again, he didn’t really have time to do anything but run for his life while Marcus and Jaxon were busy trying to figure out how to stop Killian’s phone from recording. Killian took advantage of the distraction and plucked the phone from their hands, sprinting for the nearby window.
His phone.
Killian quickly lifts his hand to see that not only is his phone still in his hand but it’s still intact. He climbs out of the dumpster, his entire body sore, but he lands on his feet. He’d left his leather jacket up there, but it wasn’t even his. Killian doesn’t wear leather jackets, he’s content with his hoodies. He borrowed the jacket from his best friend, Victor. He’ll be pissed, but oh well, Killian will buy him a new one.
Three of the members are poking their heads out the window and Killian looks up at them, throwing the hand that’s still holding his phone in the air. He feels like Bennie in The Sandlot when he finally gets the baseball from the beast and hurdles the fence, still holding onto the ball. The difference is the beast chased Bennie down. The difference is the beast in the movie was not actually a beast at all. He can’t say the same about those white supremacists, though.
“We trusted you, man!” Richard calls out. He’s the one Killian had contacted through one of their social media groups. 
“Sorry, mate,” he says in his British accent, his words lacking any sort of apology as he spins around. “Peace!” he calls behind him trying to sound as American as he can, and instead of saluting the members with two fingers, which is not a peace sign for Brits, he flips them the bird as he goes. 
∞∞∞
“Tonight on Walsh News, we take an in-depth look at Emma Swan, a Rhodes Scholar, a Pulitzer Prize winner and a protégé of President Gold who tapped Swan two years ago to be the youngest Secretary of State in the history of this nation.”
As sore as Killian is from that jump out of a two-story window and as much as he hates that arsehole, Walsh, and everything the media mongrel represents, he lifts his eyes from his MacBook. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and manages a small smile when he sees Emma on the television screen. He knows what he’d done to write his article and expose the White Power group was worth it. He may have lost faith in humanity long ago, but Emma’s passion and ambition and hope have always stuck with him. He wants to believe the support he’d always shown her when they were young has always stuck with her too, but he doubts it. She doesn’t need his support. She never did. She was never a helpless duckling, and even after she lost the student council election to August Booth because of his stupid two prom platform, her wounds healed and she eventually spread her wings and soared high in the sky, leaving Storybooke in the dust. 
As Killian gazes at her wistfully at the screen, he sees the elegant swan he always knew she’d become. While everyone he knows had hopes and dreams they gave up on long ago, Emma is the one person who made hers come true. Well, not quite all of them. She always talked about saving the planet, but he knows her work isn’t nearly finished. She’s only thirty-seven, and even though they haven’t spoken to one another since the day he watched her ride away in her parents’ 1987 Pontiac Safari Station Wagon, he still believes in her. He’ll always believe in her.
∞∞∞
Emma sucks in a deep breath as she twists the knob and opens the thick, wooden door, entering the Oval Office with a little bit of forced enthusiasm. President Gold had been vague over the phone about what he’d wished to discuss with her, but his tone of voice indicated it might be something big. “Good morning Mr. President,” she greets with the smile she had practiced in her bedroom mirror repeatedly that morning. 
“Hello, Ms. Swan.” He rises from his chair and rounds the desk, gesturing to one of the couches. “Please, have a seat.”
She sits down and crosses her legs, folding her hands in her lap as he sits on the couch across from her and rests his elbows on his knees. “Ms. Swan…”
“Yes, sir?”
He blows out a long breath as if whatever he’s about to tell her has been weighing on his mind for quite some time. “I will not be seeking re-election.”
Emma’s sure the awestruck expression on her face doesn’t even come close to how surprised she actually is. “Really?” Did she hear him correctly?
He nods, clapping his hands together. “Look, I know how absurd it sounds seeing as I’m only halfway through my first term—”
“And you’re incredibly popular, sir.” But she knows most of his popularity stems from being a television star before he took office. He hosted the popular game show, Let’s Strike a Deal.
“And I’m going to use that popularity to transition into something more prestigious than the presidency. I wanna make it in the movies.”
Emma blinks, not believing what she’s hearing. She opens and closes her mouth several times, trying to process this. “Yoooouuuu… want to leave… the presidency… to be a movie star?”
“I know it’s tough to make the leap from television to film, but I think I’m going to give it a shot.”
After the initial shock washes over her, she sees this as an opportunity. She had planned on running for president in 2024, but with Gold leaving office at the end of his first term, perhaps she can use this to her advantage. And she knows just how to go about it. Gold may be good at convincing people—he is an actor after all—but Emma not only has far more education than him, her extensive political background has helped her greatly improve her cajolery tactics over the years. After she lost the Student Council election to August Booth in high school, she’s learned that in order to get ahead, sometimes you have to use a little sleight of hand to get there—give the people what they want, so to speak. Or, in this case, help Gold realize just how legendary his presidency could be.
“Mr. President, have you given any consideration as to whom you might endorse? I’m sure you’re probably thinking of Yang or Crowley. Sound choices,” she nods and purses her lips, averting her gaze, a look of contemplation on her face. “It’s so strange because I was considering a run in 2024, and I can’t stop wondering what…” she looks at Gold again, “what it would do for your legacy to endorse the first female president. I mean, wow. ” The word is breathy, almost a whisper. “Now that’s a legacy.”
Gold presses his joined hands to his lips and has a thoughtful expression embedded in his features, but she can’t discern what he’s thinking.
She looks at the floor between them while he ponders her words. 
“Emma?” he finally says after a moment.
“Hmm?” She reverts her eyes to him.
“I would like to endorse you to be the next President of the United States.” 
Her entire body is thrumming with excitement and her stomach is full of butterflies; she doesn’t even care he said it like it was his idea. She’ll even give him credit for it. Besides, trying to convince him otherwise would be like trying to teach a fish how to bark. She closes her eyes and refrains from jumping up and down on the couch. She opens her eyes again, trying to hide the excitement in her voice but fails, her tone coming out unusually high pitched. “I mean, if you think that’s a good idea, sir, I trust you completely. I’d be… I’d be honored.”
He reclines back, wagging a finger at her. “I’ll be pulling for Team Emma. Because you’ve been a great secretary.”
“Of State,” she adds.
“Whatever. You’ve done it well, Dearie.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“So stay focused. Don’t make any major screw-ups. Don’t kill anyone. That’s probably not a problem for you. I don’t know what you’re into. Whatever. And before you know it…” He rises from the couch and hums the US Presidential Anthem. 
“I like the sound of that,” Emma says with a jubilant smile as she stands up.
“Hey here she comes, it’s the first lady president,” he chants.
“Thank you, sir.” She heads for the door, Gold following behind her still singing. 
“Who can believe she is actually a woman. She’s got a big brain and a couple other assets.”
Emma opens the door and walks through, not even giving another thought to how incredibly sexist Gold is being. She’s floating high on a cloud as she sashays proudly down the hall and raises a subtle victory fist in the air, whispering to herself, “Yessss!”
∞∞∞
“You’re gonna love this,” Killian raves as he hands the piece to his boss. “I almost died for this.”
Sidney lowers the mug from his lips, swallowing his coffee down. He offers a tightlipped smile as he glances very briefly at the draft before looking up at Killian, a serious expression clouding his face. “Got a second?”
“Of course.” 
“Come with me.”
Killian follows Sydney into his office and sits across from him at the desk, setting his satchel on the floor.
Sydney sets down Killian’s article and his coffee mug, folding his hands together on the desk. “I have some great news, Killian. We’ve just been bought by Walsh Media.” 
Killian pales and his stomach drops. “What?!” Blood bubbles under his skin at the thought of the wanker buying the Storybrooke Advocate. The thought of him owning something Killian has literally put his blood, sweat and tears into. “Bloody hell. Are you fucking kidding me?!” Ever since he was a kid, he’s dreamed of being an investigative journalist, so he’s been nothing but loyal and dedicated to the company from day one. But in the blink of an eye, Walsh has managed to ruin all that for him.
“Look, I knew you would have a poor reaction—”
“A poor reaction?!”
“Killian, this is a good thing.”
“How?! That wanker represents everything we’ve been fighting against since day one. The whole point of this paper is to fight giant media conglomerates. Now we’ve been bought by a giant media conglomerate.”
“I see the irony,” Sydney nods.
“Irony?!” Killian stands from his chair, his voice growing louder with every word. “He’s going to turn us into a giant propaganda machine! And not the good kind!” Anger pulsates through him as he paces back and forth in front of Sidney’s desk; he’s never been this worked up before in his entire life. And that’s saying something for him.
“Killian, we’re running out of options. We’ve been running as long as we can on ads for weed doctors and escorts.”
Killian stops in his tracks and raises his hands in the air. “Then run penis enlargement ads or something!”
“Come on, Killian,” Sydney admonishes.
He sighs in exasperation, trying to calm down, his voice calmer. “This Walsh guy ran fake stories to get Gold elected.”
Sydney shakes his head and raises a finger at him. “No, they couldn’t prove that.”
“We proved it!” He holds up three fingers. “I wrote three articles about it. You published them!”
Sydney nods, lowering his face into the palm of his hand. “I did.”
“The shite that comes out of this guy’s mouth? He said same-sex marriage caused tornadoes! He represents everything that’s wrong with this country!”
“Killian, it’s done, alright?”
He freezes. “It’s done?!”
“They’re upstairs, finalizing the deal right now.” 
Killian presses the pads of his fingers to his temples and turns away from his boss as he tries to process this. 
Sydney stands and rounds his desk, sitting on the edge, pleading with him. “Look, we have to cut two-thirds of our staff.”
Killian turns around, devastation in his features. “Two-thirds?”
“Yes. But we want to keep you on. They want to keep you on. It’s just,” he blows out a hesitant breath, “you just have to tone it down a little bit.”
Killian furrows his brows in bewilderment. “I don’t know how I can tone things down any more than I’m toning them down, mate,” he mutters through gritted teeth.
“Okay look, Killian, you’re a brilliant writer…”
“Thank you.”
“You’re funny, you take risks, you connect with people…”
Killian’s brows pinch in suspicion. “Why am I sensing there’s a big but coming?”
“You have a distinct, authentic voice… but… ”
“And there it is…” he sighs.
“But, sometimes you’re a little too much.”
Killian is taken aback. “I don’t think I am too much. I actually think I’m the perfect portion,” he says defensively.
“Look, you have your job, so focus on that and just toe the line a little bit.”
Killian is enraged. Toe the line a little bit?! He’s not toeing any lines. “I quit.”
Sydney’s face twists with a mixture of shock and disappointment. “Oh, come on, Killian…”
“You should quit, too. Everyone should bloody well quit.”
“No, I’m not quitting, I need my job.”
“I need my job too. I’m broke. But I can’t work for that tosser.”
Sydney sighs. “At least let me fire you so you can collect unemployment.”
Killian slices a hand through the air over his chest. “No bloody way! I want nothing from him. Besides, I want him to know I quit.”
“He’ll never know it, he’s never heard of you. You’re going to destroy your life to spite a guy who’s never heard of you?”
“Yes! You said it best! That’s exactly what I’m doing. Fuck this.” Killian grabs his satchel and walks out of Sydney’s office, closing the door behind him, announcing to all his former coworkers, “Journalism died today, people!”
∞∞∞
“So the headline is, you’re in great shape,” Mary Margaret, the polling team manager, points out as she displays the next presentation slide.
Emma’s sitting at the meeting table between her Chief of Staff, Regina Mills, and Deputy Chief of Staff, Robin Locksley, trying to follow along with the presentation, but it’s difficult for Emma to focus when her stomach is full of butterflies. She still can’t believe she persuaded Gold to endorse her. Her head is spinning.
“Ninety-two percent, that’s good,” Regina comments. 
“It’s very good,” Mary Margaret agrees exuberantly and moves on to the next slide, which shows Emma’s personality traits and how they were ranked. “Your sense of humor is eighty-two, which is solid.” Mary Margaret cocks her head to the side, as though she has to rethink that assessment. “It’s solid, but we wouldn’t mind seeing that number go up a few points… or more.”
Regina leans in to speak to Emma as she takes notes. “I’ll get some writing samples from some funny speechwriters.”
Emma sets her pen down and smiles. “Thanks, Regina.” She rests her elbows on the table, clasping her hands together as she reverts her attention to Mary Margaret and says, “But I’m really interested in knowing how people feel about my accomplishments.” 
“Right, so we don’t drill down on specific policies, and that’s only because people don’t seem to care.”
Well, that’s a blow to the gut.
“With that said, if you could broker a deal that gets you out there talking about something you feel strongly about, that would be really great.”
“Well, that’s perfect,” Emma says enthusiastically, sitting on the edge of her chair. “We’ve been looking for an opening to start a conversation about the environment.” 
“That sounds great,” Mary Margaret says with a grin, but Emma’s not sure if she’s being sarcastic and trying to hold back a laugh, or if she’s being sincere. “Now, if I may, onto your romantic life…” The brunette shows a photo of Emma and Graham Humbert smiling for the camera.
Emma refrains from rolling her eyes as she rests her chin in her palm. She doesn’t have a romantic life. One make-out session with a world leader she barely knows doesn’t constitute a romance.
However, the way Mary Margaret gushes as she looks at the couple in the photo, one would think they were actually a couple. “Remember the stir online when you and the Canadian Prime Minister were seated next to each other at the Global Business Forum?”
Emma nods, wishing she were taking a nap right now. She doesn’t care about improving her personality traits or starting a romance that will raise her numbers and appease the public. Although she is quite proud of her two highest scores, elegance and charisma, both ranked at over ninety-five percent.
“A relationship like that,” Mary Margaret points to the photo of Emma and Graham, “could push you into the high nineties.”
“High nineties? Wow,” Regina murmurs to herself, making note of it.
“That brings us to…” Mary Margaret switches to the next slide, showing Emma’s wave.
She knits her brows in confusion. “What’s wrong with my wave?”
“That kind of elbow movement is um…” Mary Margaret purses her lips as though she’s trying to figure out how to put it delicately, but then gives up, “well, it stresses people out.”
“You know what? It’s just an area of improvement,” Robin assures Emma after sensing the offended tone in her voice.
She supposes the movement in her elbow is a bit too much. It makes her look like a robot actually. “Fine, I’ll work on the wave.”
∞∞∞
“I’m not going to a fancy rich person party,” Killian declares after Victor proposed going to the World Wildlife Fund benefit in Philly tonight. Killian had shared the details with Victor and now they’re walking down Main Street discussing their plans for the evening. But Killian thought Vic was trying to make him feel better. Going to a fancy, rich person party will only remind Killian how rich he is not. He had something else in mind, something involving the closest bar and lots and lots of rum. 
“Oh, come on, Jones. Don’t be so judgemental. There will be free booze and pandas and shit. People love pandas and shit.”
Killian shakes his head. “I just lost my job, I’m not really in the mood to mingle.”
“Fine, just sit at home and do nothing. Don’t hang out with your best friend and Boyz II Men.”
Killian’s ears perk up and he stops in his tracks. “Boyz II Men will be there?”
Victor stops walking and turns around, nodding. “Yep. They’re bringing their timeless blend of R&B and hip hop to the party. The fancy rich party doesn’t sound so bad after all, now does it?”
Not at all. He used to listen to Boyz II Men and other popular musicians in the nineties. But mostly Boyz II Men because it’s what he and Emma would listen to when she was over at his house babysitting him. He didn’t know Victor then; they met in college before Victor went off to medical school, but they have similar tastes in music. Which is how Victor knew exactly how to persuade Killian into going to a fancy, rich person party. “Okay, I’m in, mate.”
“That’s the spirit!” Victor pats Killian on the shoulder, and they walk again as Victor sings Motownphilly.
∞∞∞
“I’m starving. Why didn’t you power bar me?” Emma asks Robin as they make their way down the staircase, Regina and her Secret Service agents following behind them.
The Grand Room glitters like something out of a fairy tale, all candlelight and crystal chandeliers and gilt and sophisticated shine. The attendees glitter, the women dripping in diamonds and other precious stones and the men donning suits and black ties. 
“I tried to, but you pushed my hand away,” Robin chuckles.
“Hopefully they don’t have skewered foods. I can’t eat skewered foods gracefully; I always look like a fucking cavewoman.”
“And there are cameras everywhere.” Regina points at a dutiful photographer who’s unobtrusively circling the perimeter of the room, taking pictures of as many of the guests as he can. “That would hurt your elegance score.”
“That’s my best score.”
When they reach the buffet table, Emma’s relieved to find that not all the food is on skewers. But even so, she’s so hungry, she may still look like a cavewoman trying to stuff as much food into her mouth as she can. “Cover me?”
“Of course.”
Regina and Robin both stand behind her like walls as Emma makes her first selection, grabbing a saucy meatball on a toothpick and bringing it to her mouth, being careful not to drip any sauce on her black dress. 
“Oh my god, these meatballs are really good,” Emma mumbles through a mouthful of food.
“Graham Humbert is approaching,” Regina warns her. “He’s about nine feet away.”
“Shit,” Emma whispers and shoves another meatball into her mouth before wiping her lips and chin with a napkin. After swallowing it down and discarding the napkin, she spins around, offering a bright smile. 
When Graham approaches her, giving her a once over, Regina and Robin disperse.
“Graham… how are you?”
“Good evening.” His lips twitch in a pleased smile as he takes Emma’s hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. “I am so sorry I missed you at the White House a few weeks ago,” he says in his thick, Irish brogue. He was born in Canada, but his parents are originally from Ireland, so naturally, he took on their Irish accent.
“Oh, it’s fine.” Emma waves off his apology with a flick of her hand. “Maybe next time?”
“Well, I—”
“If I may?” the photographer interrupts, holding up his camera.
“Aye, of course,” Graham turns toward him, and Emma relents, remembering what Mary Margaret said about how being seen with Graham would raise her score. She supposes if she’s going to be running for president, she must endure some things she may not like, in order to appease the public. Besides, it’s not like Graham is bad looking; in fact, he’s rather handsome with his curly brown hair and grey-blue eyes. But her hectic schedule doesn’t allow time for a romantic relationship. 
Graham wraps his arm around her as she places a tentative hand on his back. The camera flashes a few times as Emma and Graham hold their smiles.
“One more,” Graham says, just as Emma’s about to pull away. 
A few more successive shots are taken before Graham thanks the photographer and they break their pose, turning toward each other. 
He inches closer, speaking intimately in her ear. “What do you say we get out of here? Grab a drink somewhere a bit more… private?”
The music changes from something soft and elegant to something more familiar. Very familiar actually. 
Motownphilly.
Emma looks over Graham’s shoulder and her eyes light up when she sees Boyz II Men on stage. “Yeeeessss!”  
When Regina told her about the World Wildlife Fund benefit, she failed to mention Boyz II Men would be performing.
“Yeah?” Graham asks, a big smile spreading across his lips.
While he’s thinking she was saying yes to his invitation, Emma had forgotten his presence as soon as she heard the music. Not that she would’ve accepted his invitation anyway. But now she sees this as an opportunity to avoid the question altogether. “Oh my God!” Emma scurries over to the crowd that’s gathering around the entertainers of the evening.
“Alright, alright, alright, alright. Philly, make some noise. Make some noise!”
The crowd whistles and cheers, and Emma is taken back to when she was a kid again. She was ten when this song came out—when she bought their CD—and listened to it constantly throughout her teen years. 
Graham joins her on the dance floor as she moves to the music, not even caring about her elegance score. She literally hasn’t danced like this since high school, but she feels more carefree than she has in years and she hasn’t even had a sip of champagne. Stuffy music and champagne have never been her thing. But this… this is her music.
“Duty calls.” Graham’s deep voice in her ear makes her jump, and she spins around to look at him. “I’ll take a snow check on those drinks. Canadian for a rain check,” he winks.
“Okay,” Emma says, forcing a small laugh at his joke. 
“Good evening,” he bids her, slowly walking away.
∞∞∞
“I feel very underdressed,” Killian grumbles as he peers down at himself. He’d never thought to change out of his blue jeans, t-shirt and black hoody, and here he is drinking champagne in a room full of rich people who are wearing tuxes and formal dresses.
“Don’t worry, you look fine,” Victor says as they make their way through the crowd. 
Killian knows he’s just being nice though. Even Victor is wearing a dress shirt and blazer, but then again he blends in more with the other rich folk because unlike Killian, he’s not jobless or poor; he’s a doctor who makes more than a decent living.
Killian finishes his champagne and places the flute on a tray when a waiter approaches, and snatches another one, gulping it down like rum.
“Easy, buddy. You’re pounding those drinks pretty hard, don’t you think?” And that’s coming from Victor, who’s at the bar every night he’s not on call.
“I got fired today, mate.” 
“I thought you said you quit?”
Killian’s gaze moves across the room as he turns his head to look at Victor who is standing next to him. “I was forced to quit because—” His words die in his throat, his jaw dropping when his eyes land on a gorgeous blonde dancing.
But not just any blonde. Killian recognizes her. 
It’s the Secretary of State. It’s Emma Swan. His first crush. His first kiss. 
He hasn’t seen her in person since she was eighteen, but she’s even more stunning as a grown woman. And she’s even more stunning than she is on television. 
54 notes · View notes
hitsuackerman · 4 years
Text
Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.9
a/n: yall ready for the date? >:)
warnings: this cannot be read solo, a bit of harassment
Links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8
Masterlist to my other fics: here :)
Overhaul’s waiting list: @jjk-biased​​ @infinite-universe-love​​ @dirtypride​ @blackymomo03​ @azzie 
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You usually loved it when the hours would pass by. However, for this particular time, you hated it. One moment you were facing your desk; Typing and answering emails, documenting files, calling a few people, and praying for a miracle that something would happen in order to cancel the dinner date. The word ‘date’ made you want to puke.
Now, you were on your way home. Hands clenching the steering wheel. The music blasting through the speaker in an attempt to calm your disturbed soul.
The restaurant your chief had chosen was an hour away from the city. It was situated in the mountains. It had a nice view of the city. Even though it was a one star restaurant, the reviews were relatively nice. Their steak was the most recommended dish. The question now was whether or not you would find an appetite.
Opening the door to your unit, you threw yourself to your bed. Hair sprawled everywhere as you suffocated on your mattress. Resting on your cheek, you glanced at your closet and tried to think of obnoxious outfit combinations to wear for tonight. Besides, the chief would never know what you were outside the office.
A buzzing sound came from your pocket. Taking your phone out, you sat down and answered it.
“Yes, Nao?”
“I managed to dig into one of your major cases. The arson one.” He said rather proudly. Letting him proceed, he continued. “So, I looked into the shareholders to see if there were any similarities. It might be me pulling straws, but try to set a meeting with Endeavor.”
“Endeavor?” You repeated. Making sure that you heard him right. “Are you sure?”
“I back tracked the previous establishments. And all of them had a lot of shareholders in common but his name stood out.”
“Nao. That’s like a very thin straw…” You stood up and turned your laptop on. “But I was at a dead end so I appreciate your help.”
“Anytime, (Y/N). How’s the yakuza case?” Him asking questions at this time meant he was on break. It had been a while since you last gossiped with him so you gave him some attention.
“I still have to set a meeting with Birdman. Crud. That reminds me. I have to buy an earpiece.”
“The chief tagged along last time, right?”
“He did. Lucky for my ass, the meeting was short.”
“He was fuming when he arrived back at the precinct. What happened?”
“Birdman somewhat threw a fit since he cut me mid sentence.” The mere memory of it made you chuckle. But, there was this feeling that you shouldn’t have said that. It became second nature to always keep your guard up when you talk to Tsukauchi. It felt as if you had lowered it for a millisecond.
“No wonder.” He breathily replied. “Be careful, (Y/N).”
“With the chief or Overhaul?” You sighed and massaged the bridge of your nose. “Because honestly speaking, I’m not sure who the villain is among those two.”
That statement was rather strange. He was used to your antics but a comparison like that? Tsukauchi on the other line had not been using his quirk on you. Although, he had always felt something off whenever he and the chief talked about you. He was never one to pry but perhaps this would have to be an exception.
��So what are your plans for later?” He asked. Carefully choosing his words.
“Dinner with some dude.” Heading over to your closet, you scanned for some hideous apparel. “You think a Bee Movie sweater will make him cringe?”
“If you cleared your schedule for him, I think your ‘I come with background music’ shirt would do the trick.”
“Damn, you’re right.” Looking for that shirt, Tsukauchi could hear you opening and closing your drawers. That gave him enough time to do some of his research. “I HAVE FOUND THE SHIRT!”
“Would you really wear it, though?”
You wished but you had already given your 3 men cases, Tsukauchi had given you a new lead, and the yakuza case was more than enough you could handle. Casting the shirt aside, you flopped to your bed.
“Any chances you can send a hero later?”
“Give me a name and I’ll see what I can do.” He teased back. “Anyway, my break is over. Enjoy your dinner.”
“So long, farewell.”
--
You did not wear the shirt, sadly. However, you did wear clothes that hid every single inch of skin your body had to offer. Turtleneck, high waist jeans, knee length boots, and a coat you wouldn’t mind being overhauled.
Taking one last look at yourself in the mirror, you fixed whatever was needed to be fixed.
“You will not go to the restroom. You will not leave your bag unattended. You will put on a fake smile and give him hell.” Hearing the knock on your door, the night was now starting. Inhaling deeply, you swallowed every single ounce of pride.
“You’ve dressed nicely.” The chief greeted you. He wasn’t wearing his standard get up. Instead he wore a plain black shirt with a leather jacket. White pants with complimentary gray shoes. He half expected you’d dress like you always did. Seeing you in your get up made him want to take his phone and snap a picture.
Moments later, you were standing outside your building. The chief had instructed you to wait for him at the drop off area. More than willing to follow, you scrolled through your phone for any messages or emails. The honking of a horn caught your attention.
A Koyota Figo was now parked in front of you. Forgetting that your chief owned a hatchback, you opened the door and began sending out prayers for any gods or telepathic heroes in the vicinity.
The drive was silent. Your gaze fixated on the lights the city had to offer. Wanting to be in a neutral mood, you let your thoughts wander.
Tomorrow, you would schedule a meeting with Endeavor. How? You weren’t sure but hopefully his assistant would let you get 5 minutes with him. An update from Takashi and the rest was also in line. You began to enumerate the stores that sold earpieces that you could purchase for Overhaul to use. Maybe you should buy 2, just in case it fails.
Feeling something resting on your thigh, you stared at the chief’s hand. Biting your tongue, you held on to your breath as well as the want to jump out of the car.
“We’re almost there, sweetcheeks.” He stated. His hand began to pat the area he just infected. “And since we’re outside the office, feel free to call me Yokai.”
“Aight.” There was no way in hell you would.
“Or daddy would be fine.”
That made you wonder. Would it be professional if you would ask Birdman to overhaul your ears and repair them back to normal. Cringing at the statement, you held on to your bag for dear life. Taking your phone out, you began to scroll through your social media.
“No phones, darling.” He warned. Abruptly hitting the brakes.”Wouldn’t want any unwanted people ruining our date. Now put that phone away before we arrive.”
Maybe a trip to the restroom in the restaurant didn’t sound half bad. Doing as told, you leaned on to the seat and closed your eyes. It was getting dull, a bit boring, and a little creepy. Keeping your senses sharp, you fell into a very light sleep.
Feeling that the car had come to a stop, you unstrapped your seat belt and immediately stepped out of the car. Waiting for him to lead the way, you trailed behind him as he told the usher his reservation. For a minute, you forgot that he had booked a private room.
Entering the small room, you were met with a candle lit dinner. The chairs beside each other.
“For a change, you know?” The chief commented. Putting his hand on your back, he pushed you towards the table and let you sit down. Watching as he pulled out his chair, you copied his actions and managed to inch your body away from his. “I have already ordered so for now we can simply chat.”
“Sure.” Your eyes remained glued to the plate.
“So, when was the last time you went on a date like this?” His voice proud of the place he had chosen.
“Years ago.” You forced a smile. “I’m not a fan of fancy restaurants.”
“Well, better get used to it.” He rested his arm on the back of your chair. Moving your back away from the back rest, you fixed your coat to make it less obvious. “How’s your cases going?”
“Fine. Recently got a new lead.”
“You’re using your yakuza ties, aren’t you?”
Finally looking at him, you focused on his glabella, you cocked an eyebrow.
“For the cases I’m handling right now, I had to work 3 of my cases with them.”
“Your side or his side?” He tilted his head.
“I’m sorry. I thought this was a dinner, not some kind of interrogation.” “Always admired how feisty you are.” The chief remarked. “Why are you single?”
Before you could answer, the doors opened and your food was served. The food was being served by two waiters. One of them had blonde hair and the other had blue hair with arrows at the end. Your eyes followed the blue haired man since he wore a white face mask. It made you think of Overhaul.
Pasta was served in front of you while the chief got his steak. Observing how he opened the wine, you took note that both of them wore white gloves. The wine bottle opened with ease and you saw the label. It was one of those wines that Gei didn’t really recommend due to its uneven taste. Once the glasses were filled, you thanked the waiters. When the door closed, you felt the air grow cold.
In all honesty, the pasta was good. And the wine he had chosen, despite it being too bitter for your taste, matched the sauce pretty nicely. The soft classical music somehow calmed your spirits.
As you were quietly enjoying your meal, the chief put his steak knife down and began to brush his pinky with yours.
“Is the food to your liking?”
“I’m liking the pasta. The noodles are cooked just right.”
“How about a toast then?” Taking his wine glass, he turned to face you. “For this new found partnership.”
Sighing, you took yours and merely stretched out your arm to clink your glasses. Sipping on the wine, you savored the flavor a bit and swallowed. Glancing at the chief, you saw him furrowing his brows at his drink. Checking his food, he had only eaten half of the amount. Compared to yours, the food was almost gone.
“Are you okay? You’ve barely touched your food, Yokai-san.” Saying his name made the pasta slither up your throat.
“Don’t worry about me sweetcheeks.” He set his glass down and let out a burp. Thankfully, he had covered his mouth. “Let’s continue where we left off. Why are you still single?”
“I’m not really into dating.” You replied. Eating the last bit of your pasta, you placed the fork down and wiped your mouth with the napkin. “I have too many cases to even think about that.”
“You interested in someone?” He hiccuped and burped. His hands rubbing small circles on his stomach.
“Where’s the fun if you know who I’m interested in.”
“Oh. So now you’re flirty. Wine works wonders.” He took his glass and sipped once more. This had to be one of his favorite wines but it tasted different. Perhaps it was the steak. Seeing that you were still taking yours, he deduced that you had nothing to do with it.
“No. It’s just that you have no business regarding that matter.” By now, you were fully facing him. The sudden change of his facial features showed signs of discomfort. The room was comfortable yet you could see sweat forming on his forehead. His chappy lips were now pale. The constant rubbing of his stomach only made your suspicions grow. “Are you really sure you’re okay? You look like shit.”
“Okay. Ya got me.” Pressing the buzzer on the side of the table, he waited for the waiter to arrive. Not a moment too soon, the door opened and the same waiter from before appeared. “Boy, the food you served is making me sick. There’s no way in hell I’m paying for this.”
“I apologize.” The waiter with arrow-tipped hairs responded.
“Useless employee.” He leaned in and whispered to your ear. All you could do was lean away. “May I speak to your manager?”
“Unfortunately, the manager is still in a very important conference.”
“To think this place has a 1 Michelin star.” He mumbled as he took his wallet. Fumbling for his card, his stomach let out a rather loud sound. Biting your inner lip, you tried to suppress the smile forming. When he took his card, he tossed it to the table and demanded. “Swipe the card. We’re leaving.”
Taking his card, he excused himself but left the door open.
“You’re not playing tricks now, are you (Y/N)?” He held your wrist a little too tightly. “You know what happens when you mess with me. I can give you more than 10 cases if this little incident is caused by you.”
“In my defense, I have never set foot in this restaurant.” You fought back. “And if you even wanted to impress me, WcDonal’s or even just Burger Queen would be more than fine. If you think these kinds of things would do the trick, sorry but you’re terribly wrong.”
You closed your mouth shut. Anger had somehow taken over and the words you said were not the best. Biting your tongue, you cursed at the sight of his mind moving and plotting as to what to do next.
The blonde waiter came with the receipt and apologized once more for the issues. Standing up, the chief told you to wait for him in the lobby. Leaving you alone with the waiter, you took your bag and bowed to him.
“I’m sorry about that person.” Your eyes darted to the men’s room where he entered. “But, if it helps, the pasta was really nice. Just sucks he had to experience that. Though he deserves it if we were to be honest. The amount of times he’s invaded my personal space is just revolting.” Shocked that you had uttered your last sentence, the wine must be a little stronger than you had expected.
The blonde waiter chuckled and went off to the kitchen.
While you were waiting at the lobby, checked your phone and saw messages from Gei. Smiling at the story he had to share via message, you quickly put your phone away once you heard a door closing followed by a burp.
“Looks like I’ll have to take you home now, love.” The chief said.
Not wanting to waste another second, you lead the way back to his car.
Chrono and Nemoto stared at the window. Undivided attention as you stepped into the car with a happy face. In Nemoto’s hand was a glass vial. When the vehicle was now out of sight, they walked towards the manager’s office.
“It’s been a while since we had this kind of fun.” Nemoto commented.
“Agreed. Did you actually down the whole bottle into the sauce?”
“It would be a waste if we didn’t empty this. And, the boss would be most pleased to know that the laxatives work well.”
Knocking on the door, Overhaul gave them permission to enter. He was seated on the sofa with a stained cloth wiping his bloody hands. A huge splatter of blood painted the wall beside him. Next to the sofa, the two men saw a pair of legs lying lifeless on the floor.
“It went smoothly, I presume?” He leaned his head on the sofa back. When he heard the grunts of his men, he stood up and faced the decapitated body. Squatting on the floor, he could feel the hives starting to form. “Nemoto. Prepare the propranolol. Kurono. Give the drug to the two waiters as well.”
With a disgusted look, he touched the leg of the deceased body. The blood on the walls began to morph and the next second, the manager’s body was whole once more. When the manager’s eyes opened, he was face to face with the masked man who had just killed him a while ago. Just as he was about to scream, Overhaul knocked him out.
Instructing Nemoto to administer the drug, he began to itch on his forearm. Cursing at the mess he had just made and fixed, it took a lot of his willpower to push those thoughts aside. Instead his mind focused on one thing.
The memory of you smiling and the want to make sure no harm comes to you.
Besides, he could care less about the consequences.
-----
propanolol- a drug that supposedly erases memories
and yes, Chisaki to the rescue ;) just had to write the trio cause they deserve love and all of them are hot. 
do you guys have any questions? feel free to comment and ill gladly answer them :) take care and i hope you guys like this chapter <3
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trashforgubler · 5 years
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Hold On
Word Count: 2,466
Summary: You try to kill yourself and Spencer (your boyfriend) is left to deal with the aftermath
Extra Info: This fic was inspired by the song “Hold On” by Chord Overstreet and as always I 11/10 recommend you listen to it. Also, I would like to note that this is an extremely sad and dark piece so please please please do not read it if you know it will trigger you. I promise not all my stuff will be this dark but because I watch too much criminal minds I am a little bit “dark and twisty” so this kind of stuff will come up every now and then.
Warnings: Light swearing, cutting, self hatred, suicide, dark humor, literally if it’s depressing its probably in here
Requests: Open pls send
Feedback pls and thank
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This was it. You were done. You couldn’t do it anymore. You breathed.
Inhale.
Exhale.
As you looked around the room, your eyes fell upon a photograph. It was taken on the day you and Spencer went ice skating together, and he pretended to not know how just so he could hold your hand. A smile made its way onto your face for the first time in a while, but you hated the bitter sweetness of old memories. On the one hand, you loved thinking back to times when you were happy. Truly happy. Oh, how times had changed. Now thinking about those memories made you cry, because you knew there was no way to go back to how things had been. How was it possible to want to cherish something and forget about it at the same time? You sighed and stared at the blade sitting on your desk. Your hands rested on its cool surface as you learned up against it, head hung low as a million thoughts flew through it.
I can’t do this to him. He won’t survive.
Thoughts swarmed your head like a hurricane. You wracked your brain, trying to think of a way out that wouldn’t kill you both. And then it came. You opened the desk and took out a flimsy piece of notebook paper and a pencil, as if a note explain yourself would make it all better. Maybe it wouldn’t erase his pain, but you hoped it spare him some. You heard somewhere that the not knowing is the worst part for the people left behind. After a while, they could grasp the fact that you were gone, that was easy. It was not knowing the reason why that eats at them for an eternity. Spencer had to know he wasn’t a reason. You picked up a pen and held it against the paper, watching as the dot of ink grew larger and larger. Nothing had ever prepared you for this moment. English class had taught you how to write a 2,000 word essay in one night, but you couldn’t ever recall “how to write a suicide note,” being on a syllabus. You figured if you didn’t think about the words to much, they would just come to you.
Dear Spence,
I don’t know how to say this. I’m sorry. I’ll miss you. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I love you.
You were planning on something a little more extravagant than that. That’s what always happened in books in movies. Characters writing big long letters to their loved ones, explaining every detail of their decision. A play by play to the exact moment they decided they were going to cut their life short. But in that moment, you couldn’t even bring yourself to think what you felt. Trying to put your reasoning on paper was impossible, as if you had to have a good enough reason to kill yourself. Almost as if there was a court that approved your application for suicide. “Oh, you hate yourself and you think you’re a burden to everyone? Sorry, Mike over here just overfed his goldfish and killed it. Please try again in 20 years.” Realizing the fact that you couldn’t even figure out what you were feeling suddenly frightened you. If you couldn’t even understand your own brain, how could Spencer? Words started floating through your head as you attempted to put a label on what you felt. Sad? No, not really. Depressed maybe, but not necessarily sad. Angry? Angry at the world? Yes. Angry enough to die? Probably not. Guilt? Guilt. That was it. You probably felt guilty because that you were leaving an innocent man to suffer while you got to be free. But you couldn’t help it. You were trapped.
You placed the note on the counter and undressed yourself. As you walked into the bathroom, blade in hand, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Cringing, you studied each and every part of your body. The body you had despised your entire life. You were too big, had too many stretch marks and too many scars. The cuts covered your body. Your eyes strung with tears as you realized this is the last time you would ever look in a mirror. You didn’t know whether those tears are of happiness or sadness. It was all irrelevant anyways, none of it mattered anymore. In a few minutes you would be dead, completely useless to the world as you always had been. You never had a purpose, you had just become tired of pretending that would ever change. The water stung the cuts on your thighs as you stepped into the bath. Slowly, you sank down into it. The coldness seeped into your veins, leaving chills across your skin. The blade in your hand stared at you, taunting you, daring you to cut.  You bit your lip, but you weren’t sure why. You had no doubts, no fears. This is what you wanted to do.
“I’m in complete control”, you reminded yourself, although you knew it was bullshit. You weren’t the one who decided to do this. The monster that has slowly been possessing your body for the past three years was. The person you once were was gone. She died the day you put a blade to your small wrist for the first time. Just as you were about to do for the very last time. Inhaling, you plunged the blade into your arm despite your shaking hand. You drug down your arm, following the blue vein that ran down it like a map. A map to death.  Blood began pouring out of you and mixed in with the bath water, turning it a murky red color. Black dots began to appear in front of you as your head spun. The cold water seeped closer and closer to your face as you sunk down into it, slowing losing conscious. You were so close to death that you didn’t even hear the front door open. The last thing you saw before you blacked out completely was Spencer leaned over the bathtub, tears cascading down his red face as he wrapped his arms around your limp body, trying to pull you from the tub.
Spencer’s POV
Your lifeless body stared at Spencer from the bath mat, your blood staining the once white fabric. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, even as he fumbled to reach for his phone.
“911 what’s your emergency?”
“My girlfriend is bleeding out.”
The words, “my girlfriend tried to kill herself in our bathtub with a blade she got from a broken pencil sharpener,” refused to come out of his mouth, but he assumed it didn’t matter. All he knew was that you were probably dead. Time was nonexistent. The next thing he knew he was riding in the back of the ambulance as he watched you slowly fade further and further away from him. He felt like he was dreaming. This couldn’t be real. Everyone else who fell in love got to be happy. They got to give each other valentines and go out on movie dates and kiss each other whenever they please. His stomach twisted when he realized he might not get to kiss you ever again.
As soon as he arrived at the hospital, a nurse pulled him away from you as you were whisked off to surgery. He stood there, in the middle of the ER, completely helpless. His pulse racing and could hear his heartbeat in his ears as it echoed loudly inside his chest. His head was swimming with a million thoughts all at the same time, and he couldn’t get them to stop. God, he just wanted them to stop. The nurse asked if he wanted to call anyone. All his concentration was put into trying to remember anyone’s name. “J- Jennifer Jareau,” he finally stammered out. The nurse nodded and lead him to a waiting room and then left him. Alone.
The ticking of the clock was starting to drive him insane. Why was there so much noise? He put his head in his lap and clamped his arms over his ears, trying to block it all out, but it persisted with no avail. The clock, the crackle of the AC, they sound of people shoes as they walked outside the door. It was too much.
“Spence.”
The sound of a soft voice startled him. His arms fell from his ears and dangled at his sides, but he kept his head down, to embarrassed to look up. JJ was standing before him, tears in her eyes as she said his name. “Spence?” she asked, bending down to look at him. She brushed a loose curl out of his face and looked him in the eye, eyebrows furrowed in concern. Spencer felt a tear trickle down his cheek and land on his cardigan. He sniffed as he pursed his lips and shut his eyes, still not believing any of this was happening. She was fine. He told himself. I thought she was fine. The more he thought about her, the more he began to cry. The now bitter sweet memories of seeing her smile when he woke up every morning or hearing her laugh when he complained about being referred to as a “pipe cleaner with eyes,” tore at his heart. “Aww Spence.” JJ said, wiping away a tear. She didn’t know how to help him. How do you help someone who was waiting to see if the love of there life was alive or not? She didn’t know. “Spence did you cut yourself?” JJ asked with motherly concern, seeing the jagged tear in his jeans that was seeping blood.
Spencer shrugged, “probably just the blade she dropped,” he said plainly.
The words made JJ’s heart ache. Here he was, slumped in a hospital chair, crying because he didn’t know what was going to happen, and she knew it killed him knowing that he couldn’t fix it.  Whenever there was a problem, Spencer made fixing it his number one priority. He couldn’t fix this. He couldn’t bring you back to life, or make your pain go away. He was so caught up in it that he hadn’t even noticed that he hurt himself on the blade you tried to take your life with.
“What can I do?”
“Just…” Spencer started before having to stop to compose himself, “Be here,” he finished, voice breaking as he did. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to contain his emotions.
“Okay.” JJ nodded, sitting down in the chair next to him. He tilted his head to rest on her shoulder and collapsed further into her as he felt her arms wrap around him. “Okay.” She repeated. “Okay.”
Hours passed. Or maybe it was only a few minutes, Spencer wasn’t quite sure, but before they knew it, the doctor had come out to talk to them. “Are you Y/N’s family?” She asked them.
“Yes.” They both said in unison.
“Okay, well she’s stable for now, but we’re not sure when she’ll wake up. We had to suture her wrists and replace a lot of her blood, but she should be fine, with the expectation of lots of therapy of course.”
Spencer let out a sigh of relief as he allowed a small smile to appear on his face. JJ thanked the doctor as they both head into your room. They made themselves comfortable in chairs by your bed. Spencer took your hand in his as he learned back into his chair, falling asleep to the sound of your steady breathing, and the beeping on the heartrate monitor. He loved that sound. It meant you were alive. That you were okay. That he would be okay.
 Your POV
You woke up to the sun streaming in through the window pane, casting a warm glow onto your face. You almost smiled at the feeling. It reminded you of carefree summer days spent at a neighborhood block party, eating red, white and blue popsicles with your friends. It just made you happy. You could hear soft snoring coming from the person next to you.
Spencer.
Oh shit, Spencer. Had he been there all night? Had he been there more than one night? You quickly realized that this question would be a lot easier to answer if you knew what day it was. You squeezed his hand gently to wake him. He opened his eyes, which were red from either sleep deprivation, crying, or both. You didn’t know. Another pang of guilt stabbed you the more you looked at him. His messier than usual hair, the crescent shaped circles under his eyes. You did this to him, and you didn’t even know why.
“Hey beautiful,” he said groggily, rubbing sleep from his eyes. You managed to give a small smile in return. He brushed your forehead with the edge of his thumb and you relaxed at the feeling, as if all your problems and this giant mess you’ve gotten yourself into were now gone because of the way his hands felt up against your skin. Not in a sexual way, but in a pure way. The way only Spence could make you feel. He made you feel safe.
“How long have I been here?”
“Just a day.” He responded.
“And you?”
“Just a day,” he repeated, looking down at your hand as he smiled. His eyes then wandered over to your wrists, which were covered in big white bandages, but they did nothing to hide the other cuts up and down the upper part of your arms. “I love you,” he started, bringing an edge of seriousness you’ve never heard from him before. He looked up at you with those big brown eyes. “You know that, right?”
“Of course, I do, Spence.” You dreaded where this conversation was heading.
“You know you can talk to me about anything.”
“I know.” You said quietly, breaking eye contact as shame consumed you.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked in a low voice, leaning towards you as he said it. You promptly shook your head. To say you have zero interest in talking about it would be the understatement of the year. You know that you can talk to him, but you don’t want to cause him any more pain than you already put him through.
“Okay.” He said, understanding. “Not now, but eventually we need to talk about it okay?”
You nodded in agreement. As much as you hated to admit it, he was right. As always. He bent down and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, and you felt a small tear drop trickle off his face. “I love you Y/N.” he said. “Sleep.”
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creideamhgradochas · 6 years
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Thanks to the lovely @bitsandbobsandstuff for taking the time to answer these! Get to know more about lovely Kris, go give her a follow and then show her some love!
These questions are from this list. You should check it out, there’s 50 questions all together and they’d be great to ask your favorite fic writer!
1) How old were you when you first starting writing fan-fiction?
Looking back, my first attempt at fanfic was probably when I was 11-years-old and I couldn’t wait for the next ‘Babysitters Club’ book to come out, so I wrote my own story. I think it featured Stacey McGill and horses. I really fucking wish I could find it… But honestly, I didn’t really understand the world of fanfiction until I joined Tumblr. So outside of those little forays when I was younger, I’d say it was last year when I realised it was a thing I could do and people might be interested, so let’s say my 30s.
2) Do you prefer writing OC’s or reader inserts? Explain your answer.
When it comes to fanfic, I prefer Reader inserts. They feel more inclusive and frankly, even as a writer it can be easier to imagine myself in the shoes of the reader character (so I can understand their thoughts and feelings and motivations), if I don’t have a specific name attached to them.
5) When is your preferred time to write?
Either first thing in the morning (coffee and morning air are excellent inspiration) or Saturday afternoons.
6) Where do you take your inspiration from?
Constant reading. I’m that nerd at the bus stop or waiting at the movie theatre or walking down the street with my nose in a book. I also try to draw on real life experiences/ situations when I can, it gives stories more texture.
7) In your Safe With Me fic, what’s your favorite scene that you wrote?
I’m going to be cheeky and say it’s a tie – the dance scene in Chapter 8 and the trigger scene in Chapter 15. The realisations they both had within the few minutes of their dance together felt like such a great payoff for everything up until that point, and I loved imagining Bucky in that black suit (and I just love that song ‘Run to you’). The trigger scene was so much fun just to  resurface and/ or create all Bucky’s memories, especially the ones with the Soldier…they were like mini-stories of their own.
8) Have you ever amended a story due to criticisms you’ve received after posting it?
Nope. Everyone has a different vision and every story is unique for a reason.
9) Who is your favorite character to write for? Why?
Clearly, I’m such a sucker for Bucky Barnes. 😊 His character has been through so many things over his lifetime, you can take him in a hundred directions and they can still feel true to source material (both MCU and comics). He can be a battle-weary soldier or a sassy little shit, and it all links back to some iteration of his personality at some point in his life – whether pre-WW2, Winter Soldier days, or now. I’d like to branch out and try others (or maybe other fandoms) at some point, but I’m content with him for now.
11) How did you come up with the title for the Safe With Me?
I knew I wanted the title to be a line of dialogue, because I like the symmetry of finding titles inserted in a story, and I knew I wanted it to be something ‘safety’ related, since that was the theme of the story. In Chapter 3, Bucky gives the reader a little speech at the end, telling her he’ll do anything he needs to protect her, and after re-working that a little, I came up with the ‘you’re safe with me’ line, and that became the title!
12) How did you come up with the idea for Safe With Me?
I wanted to try a series for a long time, but was always  so intimidated by the idea - I’m blown away by the writers on here who do so many series, the time it takes is nuts. For SWM, there were certain themes I personally wanted to find in a story - what it means to be safe, how sometimes evil people can live right next to you, the importance of mental health...all those concepts were used as foundations to the story and the colour was created around them. Sometimes things went in the direction I wanted, sometimes they took unexpected left turns as I was writing - I think you really have to be okay being led by your gut sometimes. Things like lemon drug or Tony’s tech or changing the purpose of the trigger words were random ideas that fell into place. My brain is a weird place to be sometimes.
14) Are there any stories that you’ve written that you’d really love to do a sequel to?
I’ve thought about doing something else with ‘Bless me father’ (still the strangest, weirdest, dirtiest story I’ve written) maybe a prequel or sequel, but still mulling over ideas.
16) Tell me about another writer(s) who you admire? What is it about them that you admire?
There are so many on Tumblr I love, but three in particular I would point out.
@a-splash-of-stucky: Elsa is a literal poet. The way she writes, the images she conjures and phrases she uses, are beyond gorgeous.
@justreadingfics: Ally can set up a scene like you wouldn’t believe. I am also in continual awe of someone who can write so beautifully when it’s not their first language.
@4luvofall: Cristina nails the dialogue every single time. Her characters are always a little sassy and a little funny, and I want to go drinking with them (and her). Outside of Tumblr, my favourite book is A Tree Grows in Brooklyn and I would be happy to read Harry Potter every day for the rest of my life.
17) Do you have a story that you look back on and cringe when you reread it?
No stories, although sometimes I’ll read old dialogue or descriptions and roll my eyes a little! I think it’s important to read your old stuff and recognise how far you’ve come or how your style has changed.
18) Do you prefer listening to music when you’re writing or do you need silence?
I have a writing playlist that is mostly Sigur Ros and Sleeping at Last, with a heavy dose of movie soundtracks like Lord of the Rings. But sometimes, I put headphones in and just listen to silence.
19) Have you ever cried whilst writing a story?
I’ve gotten a little emotional at points, but never full on cried. I have sobbed like a baby while reading though, good lord.
20) Which part of your Safe With Me fic was the hardest to write?
I think the club scene in Chapter 12 was the hardest. The idea was to use the scenery and secondary characters and music to build the tension through the course of the night, until everything collapsed. Finding the right flow and making sure it didn’t feel too rushed was really hard, it took me a long time to work through.
21) Do you make a general outline for your stories or do you just go with the flow?
I tend to make an outline. For one-shots, it’s never long – just listing out the key points and scenes I want to hit. For SWM it was long – the outline was more than 15,000 words. Admittedly, I’m somewhat Type A, so I need structure to function. 😊
23) Do you have a story that you feel doesn’t get as much love as you’d like?
Probably my first Stucky story, ‘The language of a kiss’. I was hesitant to post it – it wasn’t long after I read ‘Not easily conquered’ which was one of the most mind-blowing literary experiences of my life. I love the story and have gotten lovely comments on it, but I think AO3 tends to be a better place for Stucky stories, Tumblr leans more toward Reader insert.
25) Are any of your characters based on real people?
Yes! The reader for ‘Safe with me’ was based heavily on yours truly! Most of her dialogue came very easy because it’s how I speak in real life (full of F-bombs and insults that rarely make sense). Some of Bucky’s dialogue and sass was based on my husband, the way those two bickered in the story was pretty close to real life.
26) What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten?
Some of the compliments I’ve received for ‘Safe with me’ have been genuinely unbelievable. Several people have said the story inspired them to write again, which I’m so excited to hear. The biggest compliment though, was probably someone telling me the story helped ease them through a depressive episode in their life. That hit particularly close to home and I can’t express how happy I was to hear that.
29) Do people know you write fan-fiction?
My husband and a few close friends. The first time I told my best friend, who is not remotely into fandom, I gave her ‘Safe with me’ at chapter 12 and she read the entire thing overnight and by 8a the next morning I was getting texts saying “are you awake and if so are you writing because you can’t do this to me.” Hearing someone with no interest in Marvel say that was pretty fun.
30) What’s you favorite minor character you’ve written?
Definitely Riz in ‘Safe with me’. I picture him hanging out in his little kiosk in downtown Manhattan, playing Candy Crush and watching the world go by. He has to have some great stories.
31) What spurs you on during the writing process?
Deadlines! I work so much better under pressure. If I ever had to write a thesis, I would wait until two days before it’s due.
33) Can you remember the first fic you read? What was it about?
I think it was the ‘Worth Fighting For’ series by @serzhantkris. The plot was based on Mulan, and followed the reader who took her brother’s place in the army during WW2 - she went though basic and got deployed and captured as part of the 107th. She was a feisty and amazing character, and I’m always a sucker for 1940s Bucky. The story is broken out across the three Captain America movies and it is seriously breathtaking – sweet, cheeky, full of action, and completely heartbreaking.
34) If you could write only angst, fluff or smut for the rest of your writing life, which would it be and why?
I think I’m going with angst. I like being able to dig into something and maybe cause a little pain in the process. 😉
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bluefurcape · 3 years
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I love your writing so much, its so vivid and realistic that I never notice the time passing as I read. when did you start writing? and do you have any tips for improving? thank you so much for the work you've shared and I hope to become an amazing writer like you !!
Ah!! You are too kind! I started writing (badly) in high school for bad Inuyasha and Rurouni Kenshin fanfics. Never finished a thing, my chapters were BARELY 200 words long, and many were just rewrites of existing movies with the anime characters in them haha. CRINGE. Some original stuff but about the same in terms of quality. I didn’t identify as a writer then even if I was spending a lot of my time dreaming up stories and filling up notebooks with my terrible dragon stuff haha.
I got into it more seriously around my 3rd year of college when I was following some debuting authors publishing traditionally and realized that it was a real process, not some magical thing. This was around the time Sarah J Maas was seeking publication and I was REALLY interested in her journey because even if I was a tiny fish compared to her, we were both on fictionpress around the same time and she made it seem attainable.
Started trying to write a real book (a ripoff of Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell). Got about 40k words in one summer and I was at it everyday. Tinkered with that for a year but gave it up. Tried again with a new book and gave up on that too. Graduated, went to law school and didn’t write again until my final year when I was reading over some of my old favorite kakasaku fics and lamenting that there wasn’t more to read by that author.
Started writing Heavy Reading, super haphazardly. Not too much thought went into it when I started. Got some other ideas and met some other people in the community. Tried to get better with my descriptions so that it wasn’t just pages of dialogue. Got the idea for Another Life and started that as a more ‘serious’ attempt at a multichapter work. Whether that was done successfully, I’m not sure? It’s still not done.
Looking back I do see the progress I have made and I’m proud of it. Most of it was because I wanted to pad out the chapters and as a naturally SPARSE writer, I had to make a great effort at it. I was weeping looking at these 300k word fics and wanting the same. Obviously, my fics never got so long lol.
My tips for improving:
Huge caveat, as someone who spends a lot of time looking for writing advice, I’ve come to the conclusion that most writing advice is....not great. It’s trying to make this really abstract process and put it into words and I just can’t get it. For me, the technical knowledge is lost on me and I only learn by doing. I looked for advice to try and get the secret of what would make this easier and the answer was that nothing will make this easier. Anyway!
Keep writing! The inner editor, or at least mine, is so much stronger than the muse. I joke that my muse is puny and my inner editor lifts and does leg day. Anyway, ignore her the best you can and just do it. You have to get through a lot of work before you can see visible improvement.
Learn how you write. Whether that is outlining or pantsing, or something in between, I think it’s really crucial to learn your own process. I’m still learning mine. I’ve hit my head against walls trying to create beautiful outlines and planning characters, but I thrive with the chaos and my best moments and plot twists were made right then and there. The Sasuke twist in Another Life came from that haha. My plans or ideas always go out the window. ALWAYS. It sucks, actually, because imagine if I could plan everything? I guess I don’t live my life that way either and my ADHD ass cannot.
But don’t discount outlining just because I said so! That might be what works for you. I’m just saying as someone who’s tried it and failed for 10 years that it didn’t work for me lol.
Learn from the stories that you like. See what made you like them. Find what you enjoy and lean into it.
Okay now for some actual, technical advice, if you got this far...
Stories are set up and pay off. I once heard it put very simply as, “Cat goes up tree, tree is set on fire (why?), cat gets down tree.” So a beginning, middle and end. Or even like, you see a gun in a scene, that means someones going to get shot. This is why stories essentially being a circle can be so satisfying. While this might not sound realistic, writing is not supposed to be realism. I think that’s where a lot of writers go wrong. Or they don’t fulfill the promise set up in the beginning to ‘subvert expectations’. (I’m looking at you Game of Thrones.)
Thank you again for reading my work. It means so much to me!!!
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onewhodiedyoung · 4 years
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@rhymaes, not wanting to write papers must be contagious :,) (no, actually they’re just awful) (also, ‘edge of your teeth’ is art and I’m a fan)
fandoms: oh boy, there’s like a million but let’s say that recently Les Miserables (because I love being miserable ha and am reading the book in French and calling it ‘studying’) It (planning to reread the book before I see the movies though but still reading fic), All For the Game (because I’ve just reread the books for the 5th time and ascdfsc), Percy Jackson (because apparently writing about the son of Hades’ emo phase is all I need to be happy) Harry Potter (because Harry Potter is a constant thing in my head whether I want to or not, like one time I literally explained a whole dramatic friendship evolution to my dad by saying ‘I thought they were a Hufflepuff but actually, they’re a Slytherin’ but I’m only in the fandom for the fandom cause like the source material is...... well) Hannibal (rewatching for the third time with my younger brother cause he said he wouldn’t be scared of all the organs and is so far keeping his word, oh corrupting youth... will I go to hell?) and A Series of Unfortunate Events (kind of, not really talking about it online but I would die for this show). I guess Drrr! too but I’m taking a break
tropes: okay, I love love love hate to love more than anything but there might be a trope I love the most of them all, only I don’t know if you can call it a trope and it’s a very specific thing. It’s this carefree sarcastic character that is slowly releaved to have depths BUT hear me out I don’t mean the cliche bad boy sob story ohhh someone hurt me and now I wear a leather jacket and flirt with people and stare attractively out the window, I mean this more specific scenario when someone kind of doesn’t care because they once cared too much and it’s why I am so obsessed with Les Mis because it’s so Grantaire. Like give me a story about an overexcited child-genius who grows up sad and barely passes the year and gets drunk and I’m just a puddle. I don’t know what about it speaks to me so much but it’s my absolute favorite. Also, found family, always. And not romantic, but hate to friendship is awesome, too. and all those cop/criminal aus, I need them ok
(I severely dislike soulmate aus and only read them sometimes when I just can’t stay away because of the writing style)
number of fics: only 21 but the quarantine makes the number grow fast... I have like a million ideas for 20 different fandoms, I swear (even though I should be working on the novels and short stories instead)
fic I’ve spent the most time on: uhhh to be honest it’s hard to tell because I just sit down and write something until it’s done. Usually when I post something I started it the very same day or the day before. It’s probably simply the longer the fic, the more time? ALTHOUGH I’ve been writing this super dramatic Warsaw/Cracow post-war story that is set in this au about city personifications and loosely from Les Mis and I’ve literally already been trying to write it for a month, maybe because the subject matter is so dark, I don’t know, I just really want to get it right
shortest fic: apparently, at 1621 words, “blood spot”, which is a Drarry fic about Harry using unethical spells and trying to care lol (it honestly worries me how much I romanticize the whole sectumsempra thing, it needs to stop) https://archiveofourown.org/works/21794572
longest fic: from completed ones, The Gift of Hands (https://archiveofourown.org/works/21042392/chapters/50051546) but I’m posting an OHSHC fic that’s already longer than that, an original work (so not technically a fanfic but shsh it’s my fanfic of Franz Marc as an artist ok) that’s already longer as well (https://archiveofourown.org/works/23463895/chapters/56249917), and a hp epistolary fic that will be. From one shots, The Catalogue of Bones (https://archiveofourown.org/works/20627441)
most comments/kudos/bookmarks: The Gift of Hands (I’m still shooked that people liked this story so much considering Izaya wasn’t present for like half of it lol)
total word count: 187,719 ....... it absolutely terrifies me that this is from less than a year...... I had uni and work and all my wip novels how did this happen what have I been neglecting to write Drarry after Drarry? someone kill me please
favorite fic: is it cheating to mention 3? Cause I can’t pick. So there’s ‘The Catalogue of Bones’ which is overwritten and which I’m scared to open in case after all these months I’ll see right away that it’s shit but I loved writing it and I like the rhythm of it (which probably doesn’t exist) and just like it. Then there’s ‘And Who Can Say if There Are no Frogs on the Moon’ (https://archiveofourown.org/works/20631638) which is maybe the sweetest thing I’ve ever written and Hermione/Luna which is a ship I would die for. Aaand ‘the boy who listened to bones’ (https://archiveofourown.org/works/23614144) because I just love Nico and love writing Nico and, for some reason, love writing war-trauma
fic I want to rewrite/expand: rewrite? almost all of them but I won’t, because hopefully sometime from now I will reread them in the order of posting and maybe, maybe see progress? Expand.... hmmm.... I don’t really want to expand anything, tbh. When I want to add something I actually always just make it a new separate fic (this sounds like I’m perfectly satisfied with everything I posted but trust me, I’m not... like the Moaning Myrtle/Neville fanfic is all good intentions and eternal cringe)
share a bit of a wip: oh boy......... all I have is like two sentences of a never finished Gilmore Girls fic about Lorelei drinking wine and wanting an inn and a piece of a Drarry story that I temporarily dropped because I liked the concept and decided to use it for a whole novel about lesbians and Paganini instead oops. I really just write one shots the day I post them and I’m not posting a one shot today so... But I guess here’s Drarry with Draco remembering Harry speaking up for him and Narcissa during the trials:
He looked confident, Harry, and he wore grief like something freshly-washed and pressed. He kept his chin up, and his glasses weren’t held together by tape. He was immaculate, even his hair somehow combed into a semblance of tidiness, and Draco imagined it must have taken hours to get it to behave, couldn’t imagine why Harry would bother. By then people would oh and ah whenever he entered the room, no matter the tea stains, no matter the stubble, no matter the falling-apart sneakers, and then this: crispness like Harry was a dollar bill straight out of print, even though he wouldn’t lose anything otherwise, anyway, even though people would love him, unconditional.
It wouldn’t occur to him for months that Harry might have made himself presentable for their sake, that he might have put all the thoughts of countless deaths inside his pocket for a little while to make sure that people would listen as he explained that Narcissa was a mother, and not a bad person, as if the two were mutually exclusive.
He said, after clearing his throat, and to the whole room, his voice echoing, we’re not all good. He said, after a significant pause, and they’re not all bad.
Draco hated him for how he was ‘them’ and he felt c and r and u and c again and i and then o align on his tongue, letters he would voice or swallow, it could go either way.
Once, he crucio-ed himself, writhing in the ground and begging something for forgiveness through the pain, some old gods who must have raised their eyebrows as they watched, or maybe they didn’t bother watching at all.
No wand for a year was the verdict, and Draco didn’t mind because he didn’t want the wand.
What he wanted was the piano.
I have pieces of aftg and Stranger Things fics in my head but not written down yet. Wow this was unnecessarily long and rambly, I’m sorry :,) Not tagging anyone because my brain is scrambled and I can’t think but if you’re writing fic and this looks fun then I’d love to read yours! <3
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crowleyellestair · 7 years
Text
Peter Parker - Remix
AN/ We allllll know what video this is based off of. When Tom Holland did Lip sync battles. I thought I could incorporate that with a fic of good ole Pete.
The remix I use is the glee remix though! https://youtu.be/vab-m9ZTBVU
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WARNING! I HAVE SEEN THE MOVIE BUT I'M CHANGING PARTS
Masterlist
(YN ) ran up to her best friend and shoved him with her shoulder. He looked over with a smile and took out one of his ear buds, handing it over. Umbrella by Rihanna blasted, and she started to sing along:
"Baby it's raining. Oh baby it's raining. mmmmm. It's pouring rain, oh it's pouring rain."
The song fades, and Peter laughs at her singing. "What? You don't like my singing?" He chuckles more,
"No! I-I love your singing! Muy Bien!" It's her turn to laugh,
"Peter, you know I take french, but gracias." she looks at his sweater and starts to think as Singing in the Rain came over his ear bud. His soft eyes were looking at her nice, shinny (HC) hair, and the cute blue T-Shirt she had on, that had a cat in the pocket. But he smiled when he remembered that when you pull down the pocket that the design is behind, the rest of the cat can be seen. The funny part it that the cat is flipping you off. That's one of the many reasons why he liked (YN) so much. Her humor was darker than his, but it still made him smile. And her laid back personality calmed him down, especially in school when anxiety was high around Flash, or Liz.
He was pulled out of his day dream when (YN) was moving her backpack to grab her music book and pen. She flipped to a page with room to write something down. That's what she did. She made music. Whether it be original, or music mashups, for the past two years, all music ideas were scrawled down in that notebook. The best part was that Peter had gotten her that when Flash had pushed hers into a puddle two years ago.
She looked up to Peter with that special look in her eye,
"Peter, I know how this playlist has all your favorite songs, and we've listened to the same songs for a long time-"
"W-well that's because they're good. Don't diss my jams, (YN)." She laughs,
"I wouldn't dream about it Parker! But I think I have found a new mash that you'll lo-" She was cut off when she realised she didn't have his attention. She looked to her right to see Liz. (YN) gave a hard smile, and pulled the ear bud out, walking a couple inches to her left, getting into her locker, that's right next to Peter's. She focused on her locker and not the jumbled mess Peter was becoming, due to talking to Liz.
"-So you'll be there right?"
"Y-yeah! I'll be- making- there- I... I'll see you then!" Liz turned, and walked away. (YN) walked back to the spot where she was, the pep in her step missing.
"What was that about, webhead?" He looked down to her frantic, but still smiling,
"I told you not to call me that!" She rolled her eyes and nudged him with her shoulder, willing him to go on, "Liz invited me to her party." His smile fades as her eyes look down, and a frown etched into her lips. "What?"
"Nothing. It's just... This is your first night without the 'internship' and I thought we would hang."
Peter's eyes went big,
"Well! we can still hang out! Just at Liz's party!" She sucked in her lips, to make a fine line, while nodding her head. She lifted her hand to rake her hand through his rich brown wave of hair, life she always did when she was saying good bye. She put her own earbuds in and walked to her first class by herself.
Cinnamon Roll: Hey! Are U OK?
(YNN): Yee, y wouldn't I b?
Cinnamon Roll: U walked alone to 1st period. I usually walk u. So, are you sure you're okay?
(YNN): Yes Peter, I'm fine. Im goin home right after school, so u can do arachnid stuff thn get ready 4 the party. Ill just b doin my normal stuff. no big
~
(YN) walked over to the frantic tapping on her window. She knew who it was, but her current activity was awesome, and (YN) was pretty pissed at him. She pressed the power buttons on her three computer monitors, and pulled her headphones off. She used all her might to push the desk, her rolling chair moving to the other side of the room to the window. (YN) opens it, and Peter bursts in. His happiness immediately rubbing off on (YN), and placing a large smile on her face, that matches the one Peter was wearing.
"(YN)! You will not believe what happened!"
"What! Out with it, Parker! And you should also tell me why you didn't respond to any of my texts when you guys were in DC! I saw the news! Dick move Peter! I was Worried!" Her voice dripped with anger. Her smile was gone, and (YN)'s brows were pulled down. But all he did was plop down on her bed, and look up to the ceiling.
"I know, I know. I have a lot of explaining. But I'm gonna cut to the past thirty minutes. I was walking from detention- And there's Liz. We started talking, and she asked me to homecoming!"
(YN) nodded her head, and looked down, going over everything that just went down.
Her best friend, who she thought was dead, and didn't respond to her frantic calls just got back. But instead of explaining his absence, his time as Spider-Man. Why he didn't call her back, so she could hear her favorite light, high, and airy voice. The one voice that gets flustered so easily, but can change, just like that. The one voice that was fluid when they were together, making it seem that he was comfortable around her, and only her. The one voice, that belongs to the boy with cute sweaters and ironic/funny T-shirts. The one boy who swept her heart away when his alter ego saved her, and told only her, his true identity. The only boy named Peter Parker. Or at least, the only Peter Parker she ever cared, or will care about.
The one Peter Parker who stole her heart, and will never give it back, even when he leaves Love Central with a one way ticket to Liz Town.
"That's great Peter. Look, I've got this project to do." She still wouldn't meet his eyes, even when he sat up, then walked to the window. It was only when he was out the window, and was closing it did she look, "Good night. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yeah. Yeah, I'll see you." And he left to his window next to hers, two more windows down.
~
It was thirty minutes until Homecoming. Peter was frantic, and he didn't know why. He's convinced himself that it was because this was it. He's finally going with the girl he's been pining after for such a long time. But at the same time, somehow, it doesn't feel right. He heard May laugh and say 'Come in! You know you're always welcome!' Her voice got louder, giving away that she was walking towards his door,
"Are you going to the dance? Do you need a ride?"
"No, that's okay. I wasn't asked to the dance. I just wanted to drop this off."
"Oh," May's voice sounded sad, "Well, okay. He's in there."
Peter opened his door to find (YN) dressed in her favorite T-shirt, jeans, and converse. That just made it sink deeper that he won't share this night with the right feeling. And hearing that no one asked her made his stomach fall even more. But seeing her face, strangely calmed him. Her eyes had a pain in them, but a small smile graced her lips,
"Hey, Pete. Wow. You look... Dashing. Uhhh...Here. The mix I came up with while you were gone. I know it was a while ago since I said I had the idea, but it took me forever to get the old gang back together." She handed him the CD, and it had a small umbrella drawn in sharpie on it. His brow raised,
"Gang? What did you get into (YN)? Do I need to call Spider-Man?"
This made her huff out a breath, that hadn't been fully developed into a chuckle. A bigger smile had made the slightest appearance, but it was enough for Peter's heart to jump.
"No. I promised you I'd get you into a capella. So I sent over some sheet music to my old singing group back in (Hometown)." She smiled again, but this time it wiped from her face all together. "You should play it for Liz. It's my best one yet, and maybe letting her hear your crazy music choices early, will let her ease into it later. And who knows, maybe she'll sing too-" she cut herself off, while cringing at herself. She wanted to be happy for him. But him standing there, holding the corsage meant for Liz. His slicked back hair, and the tie she knew he didn't do himself. It was too much, and her great facade quickly began to melt away. "Never mind! See you later." She  started to leave, but stopped at the front door, yelling back,
"You look handsome tonight, Peter."
~
The car ride to Liz's house was quiet. Him and May were only halfway there when she finally piped up,
"Are you going to put in the CD, or not?"
"W-what?"
"I know you're excited for Liz, and tonight, but you've been staring at the CD the whole time. She's amazing, and I know what you're thinking. But you have already committed to Liz. I'll help you make it up to (YN) later."
"I-I still d-don't know-"
"Yes you do. Put in the CD."
Peter pressed the eject button, and the radio spits out the last CD (YN) gave to them. Peter looked from the CD to Aunt May, who was already giving him a look.  He popped it in, and it started with the males heying,
But then he heard it. The oh so familiar voice, singing one of his favorite songs. Umbrella. But then Singing in the Rain clashed with it, to make a beautiful mix. The female ensemble singing umbrella in the back, while the men sing the opening heys. Then the two songs overlap. And (YN)'s voice humming, and singing the song in just the right way, leading the whole mix. And she wrote it herself, which, makes it all the more special.
"AWWWW MAN! May! I've made a mistake. And I also think I'm... I...... Love?"
"I know Peter. But it's late, aaaannnndd, we're already here at Liz's place."
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The Roles of Fandom
Here is a little large guide to some of the roles people play within fandom.
[Note: I actually had the outline of this essay written for about a year, including most of the ‘roles’ listed in this post, but I have only now gotten around to writing this properly!]
I’ve been involved in several different fandoms since I first joined the World Wide Web back in 2002, with my first major fandom coming a few years later. As a result, this post is mainly based on my own experiences within fandom, although over the years I have had numerous conversations with numerous people who share my views about the mentality of fandom and the clear hierarchies, cliques and statuses, which have helped me broaden my mind and open my eyes to the reality of it all. It’s something I have always found fascinating, which is why I often analyse the goings on within fandoms to assess the clear roles most people often fall into.
I also feel I have the ability to see things from many different points of view, as I myself have been in several different roles in different fandoms over the years; I have been the new girl, I have been a popular blog with praise heaped upon me, I have been sucked into an unhealthy group (the Mean Girls - more later), I have entered an already established fandom and managed to climb up the ladder, I have watched a fandom fall apart due to trolls and bullies (which I also happened to be a victim of), and I have also been the lurker - the outsider looking in.  
As a result of this, I came to the conclusion a long time ago that the whole concept of fandom - any fandom - is a game. Everyone is playing, it’s just they may not realise it until they....stop playing. Hindsight can really open your eyes to your own behaviour - good or bad - and others’ behaviour too, and it can also teach you a lot about yourself. It has definitely taught me a lot about myself, and in order to write this post, I have had to look back at the certain roles that I myself have played since my first key fandom back in 2006. I have absolutely made mistakes and interacted with the wrong crowds, and there is a lot of stuff in my fandom history that makes me cringe on recollection, but it’s these experiences that have taught me what I know and are part of the reason why I find it all so fascinating; the mentality of it all, and what it can say about you and all of your peers who are generally just trying to bond over this thing you all love.
This post is looking at the specific roles you will find being played in each and every single fandom. It doesn’t matter if it’s a band’s fandom, a TV show, a film, a book - whatever it is, it is my belief that you will find these people (to varying degrees) in every single fandom.
Before I start, I want to clarify a few of things. First, (and I delve into this deeper at the end of the post), I know things aren’t always as black and white or as clear cut as they may appear when I’m talking about certain roles. For the purpose of this post, I’m not really discussing the grey-areas, as that would make this post about a million words longer and it’s long enough already!!
Secondly, there are absolutely “ranks” within each role I mention. There is definitely a scale from about 1-5 in each role, although I generally talk about the most “extreme” cases. 
Finally, I want to clarify what I mean when I talk about “damaging behaviour”, as this will come up several times in this post and I want it to be clear exactly what I’m talking about.
Disrespectful/Inappropriate fandom behaviour:
Stealing content - I have seen this in every fandom, where people will save/repost someone else’s work (gifs mainly, but also scans, edits, art or sometimes even text) without crediting the creator. Usually this can be resolved; newer fandom members might not understand general fandom etiquette and I have personally spoken to people who’ve done this who have been horrified to realise what they have done. Other’s, meanwhile, do not care, and will continue to steal and take credit for other people’s work. This is something that is definitely unacceptable (I have experienced this also!!).
Disrespecting other fandom members - this can come in many different forms.
Debate and having a difference of opinion is fine until Person A runs off and starts writing indirect, catty little posts about everyone who doesn’t share the same views as them, often without having an adult discussion/debate with these people first.
These posts generally only serve to make certain corners of the fandom feel bad or even shamed about feeling how they feel or thinking what they think and it is a form of disrespect that can often get overlooked by a lot of fandom members as the content is not always explicit (ie. they’re not always calling people names, and it’s generally about groups of people instead of just one person, so it doesn’t feel as “personal”). As is often the case with posts like those, it’s not what is actually said but it’s how it is said that can be damaging to fandom morale, and while everyone can snap and write something catty now and then, when it becomes a consistent thing that certain blogs keep doing, regardless of how people react, I know for a fact that this sort of behaviour has made people scared to speak their minds and has even made people leave fandoms all together. Whether the author of these catty indirect posts means to be as damaging as they often are is usually a mystery, depending on what “role” this blog fits into (more later). 
However, this can often escalate into more direct, personal and explicit disrespect which can later evolve into full-on trolling/bullying. For example, in a previous fandom I was involved in, Person A and Person B were having a discussion about a band member’s solo work. When Person B compared this band member’s solo work with some later tunes by the band he was once in, Person A called Person B a “dickhead” and blocked them before proceeding to write nasty bitch posts about how Person B was “fucking stupid” and “dumb” for comparing one piece of music to another.
These are just a few examples, so please bare that in mind or refer back to that when I mention “damaging behaviour*” during this post. 
Now that’s out of the way, let’s start!
The Popular Blogs
This is a pretty clear one, although there are several different kinds of popular blog. Generally, to be popular, these blogs tend to have at least a couple of the following;
They have been around a long time - often longer than most. 
They create a lot of quality content (art, fic, meta, in-depth text posts/analysis about the music/show/characters etc., memes, funny little text posts - you know the drill)
They have “connections” with the thing you love (ie. have met the band members/actors several times, have friends who work for or have connections to the people involved with the thing you love, etc etc.)
They use their voice and aren’t afraid to speak their mind.
The popular blogs tend to have quite big personalities, create content that gets widely spread, and are outspoken about anything and everything related to the thing you all love.
Climbing to the top of the fandom ladder isn’t always easy and can sometimes take a very long time to achieve depending on the size of the fandom. There are several different kinds of popular blogs, although the two most dominant seem to be those that are very approachable and express their views in a reasonable/respectful way, and those that don’t.
Certain blogs who rise through the fandom ranks quite quickly will get carried away with their new-found popularity. With the confidence their status gives them, they can often become a little careless with the way they put themselves across while their ego takes hold of them; confidence can swiftly turn into arrogance and this can sometimes make them an intimidating presence within the fandom and even a little unapproachable, although some fandom members will find this interesting or edgy - it becomes their USP (Unique Selling Point) that can differentiate them from other more down-to-earth popular blogs. You can generally spot these blogs by the way they engage and respond to people, and they often don’t bat an eyelid to praise or compliments. A lot of these people can slip into the “I am Better Than You” category.
For the most part though, popular blogs are generally pretty nice. As well as creating quality content or ticking any of the other boxes in the list above, a lot of popular blogs will be friendly and likeable. People may get intimidated by their status, which can be awkward for a friendly Popular Blog, as more often than not it’s other people that put them on such a high pedestal - even if they’re aware of their rank/popularity themselves.
This moves us onto the next category...
The “I Am Better Than You” Blogs
You know who they are. You may not know you know, but deep down....you know. The reasons people may think they are above you;
They have liked the thing longer than you
They’re already a well established/popular blog, and you may be a newbie
They have seen/met the band loads of times/have more merch than you
They have stalked met the actors/people connected with the show/movie
They create a lot of content which maybe you don’t. Or they believe their content is superior to yours/others.
There are also sub-categories within this as well;
“I am better than you because I have [insert one or more of the reasons above] and I won’t really associate with you because you’re not cool enough.”
“I am better than you because [insert reason] but I’m still a friendly person and I won’t talk down to you even though I am above you in the Fandom Ranks.”
Basically, there are people who sort of put themselves on a pedestal, or are indeed put on a pedestal by other people, but they can still be nice with it. I have personally encountered this many times. There are also those that are sort of unabashed with their “status”, and won’t really hide the fact that they think they’re above you. You can usually tell by seeing who else they interact with (people with equal or higher ranks), or by the way they respond to asks.
A lot of younger or maybe newer people in the fandom can often lavish praise onto these people. And note, not all of these people who feel this way also slip into the Popular Blog category (although a lot of them do) - some of these “I am Better Than You” blogs will actually isolate themselves to a small corner of the fandom in a way that makes them appear untouchable - people will come to them, but they will not go to anyone else. Because, you know, they’re too good for that.
I have also found that with a lot of these people, they will mainly receive anon’s instead of actually having people reveal themselves to them. I have strong reason to believe that many of the “anon” messages these people receive is actually them sending messages to themselves in order to boast about their most recent meeting with band member/actor/whoever, or their most recent purchase of expensive, hard-to-find merch. In one particular case in one fandom, there was a man who created multiple social media accounts to boost his own status/fan-page (which was a page mainly to show off his collection of [insert old 60s band] memorabilia), and I believe that this sort of thing happens to varying degrees across all social media. As this post is mainly focusing on fandom on tumblr, the anon option is definitely a tool a lot of these blogs use to help boost their status, by asking certain questions or heaping praise (or indeed hate, for attention) onto themselves to make them appear more popular than they actually are (if someone is constantly receiving hate and yet refuses to block/turn off anon, that is often a big red light).
Ultimately, there are the people that will never give much back to you even if you try really, really hard and praise them left right and centre, and there are those who will actually engage with you, be perfectly nice to you, and may even be friends with you - even though, ultimately, you know they do rank above you in the Fandom Hierarchy. Depending on how you view things, this can be totally fine. It’s just up the individual if they’re okay and comfortable with this. As I said at the start, Fandom is a game. If you can view it as such, then it can be easier to accept your lower “rank”. You’ve all seen the “I can’t believe [insert blog] follows me!” / “I still can’t believe [insert blog] knows who I am/talks to me!” posts. This speaks volumes and proves that it’s two-way street, and these posts help reinforce the Rank/Status mentality amongst fandom members - even if they don’t realise it. 
The “I’m just here to have a good time” Blogs
These people can often be a blessing. They can even be pretty damn popular, if not the most popular blog in fandom, because they just go about their business, being funny or charming, posting memes, making people smile, regardless of whatever drama or intense discussion is happening within fandom at the time. They’re not as clueless as they may appear; they know what’s what and who’s who, they know who’s trouble and will probably avoid the Mean Girls, but they also Don’t Get Involved™ in any major discussion/debate that is happening. (at least not publicly!)
Then there are those who maybe aren’t aware of the current drama; they’re in their own little bubble just doing their thing, living in ignorant bliss. They can often be the light within the darkness, the sun peaking through the clouds. A blessing!!!
The Fence Sitters
There are several different degrees of Fence Sitter. For the most part, the Fence Sitter is against drama and will not engage in any major debate, even if they have strong opinions on the subject. Some more confident Fence Sitters will sometimes add their two-pennies worth as long as there isn’t a major divide between views, but they generally keep quiet if things get particularly heated.
Many Fence Sitters will also turn a blind eye to damaging behaviour* within fandom and continue to support these blogs - mainly because they have a need to be friends with everyone. Some Fence Sitters might be fully aware that someone is trouble; a Mean Girl, for example, and may even tell people privately they think such-and-such is horrible, but will still heap praise onto them publicly - even if this person has been unpleasant to the Fence Sitter too!
This is a prime example of the game playing that can go on within fandom, and shows just how fake a lot of it can be. For the most part, the Fence Sitters are generally middle-of-the-road blogs who don’t say anything too outrageous themselves, appear to be sweeter-than-sweet and create decent to really good content. They want to rank higher, they’re insecure, they want that praise and validation; not just from the more likeable people within fandom, but from everyone. But being friends with everyone isn’t always possible, and as a result they can often end up finding themselves alienated from both “sides” of the fandom.
A lot of the time though, many of the Fence Sitters are just too nice for their own good - whether calculated or not - and generally have good intentions. Even if they could do with toughening up a little.
This brings me on to the next category:
The “I don’t think this is that deep” Blogs
These are probably in the best position. They don’t read into fandom politics, they ignore the hierarchy, they don’t care about status or who’s right or wrong. They don’t pay attention, because they don’t give a fuck, and god-damn I envy them. They just go about their business, not really interacting with many people, staying in their lane....they just take everything for what it is on the surface and each post as it comes. They don’t keep mental notes of who has said what or who is cool and who isn’t. They just....don’t give a shit. It’s shallow and it’s awesome. They don’t care if Person A has been a bitch (as long as it’s not like....mega bitch...for the most part anyway....) - if this person creates decent content, the “I don’t think this is that deep” blog will reblog it. They probably haven’t even realised Person A was nasty one time, because they Don’t Give a Fuck. It’s all about the content, not the people behind it, and to be fair that can be a pretty good mentality to have as long as you’re not getting in too deep with anyone in the fandom - which these people generally don’t. These people don’t tend to rank very high, but they don’t even know that because, as their title suggests, they really don’t think things are this deep. The don’t see fandom as a game. Or, if they do, it’s just a fun game with no rules and no positions. It’s just all about reblogging groovy gifs or cute pictures. Nothing else matters beneath that, because, well, it’s really not that deep. These people can be annoying but they’re also so, so enviable.
The Reasonable Blogs
These people can be wordy, they like a good discussion/debate, but whatever their view, they are absolutely always reasonable, mature and polite with the way they express themselves. Even when dealing with more difficult fandom members who maybe aren’t being as friendly during the discussion as the Reasonable Blog, Reasonable Blog will still keep a level head, they won’t stoop down to the Troublemaker’s level, and they won’t resort to name calling or cheap tactics in order to get their point across - even if they’re being antagonised/provoked, the Reasonable Blog will rarely snap. They’re not afraid to speak their mind, and they’re generally not afraid to defend their friends, but they always do it with their head held high. They can be a rare breed, but they’re a blessing.
The Troublemakers
You know who they are. The shit stirrers. The ones who say things with a teeny tiny sting to it, voicing their opinion in a way that is provocative and will get people a little fired up. At the end of the day, it’s all about the wording; it’s not what you say, it’s how you say it that’s important. 
The Troublemakers can also be split into two categories; generally, a lot of them just like firey debate about the thing you all love, and sometimes their honesty/brutality can be funny or admirable as it’s not usually about attacking or having a pop at anyone in the actual fandom. But there are also those that do want to antagonise people on a personal level, to varying degrees, and the more extreme of these Troublemakers fit into the next category...
The “Mean Girls”
There are mean guys too obviously, but generally they don’t seem to be as smart, or as bitchy, and they tend to roam alone. The Mean Girls on the other hand are all about their little clique. That’s not to say some of them don’t ride solo, but generally you’ll find a little group with the same kind of vibe, just spewing shit, causing trouble, and generally not being too pleasant.
Of course there are various levels of “bitchery”. Sometimes it can be quite subtle, just the odd catty post now and then that is obviously created to make certain corners of the fandom feel insecure. Sometimes it’s a case of once you see it, it becomes obvious. In other cases, it is extreme, it is blatant, and it is gross. That’s when it develops into something far, far worse....which I will get onto in just a sec.
The Mean Girls, in the more obvious cases, know what they are, and they strive to be it. They don’t give a fuck, and they love it. They know people don’t like them, but they also know a lot of people sort of envy them; being in a clique can be fun, at the end of the day, and usually when people act like they’re super cool, some people will be fooled into thinking that’s what they actually are. 
This leads me onto the...
Queen Bitch™ Role.
In every single fandom I have ever been a part of, going right back to my forum days on the Newsround website from 2002(!!)-2004, there has always, always been a Queen Bitch. I even remember the screen name of the first Queen Bitch I encountered - it was DetroitDiva on the Newsround forums. It’s literally been about 14 years and I still remember her name. 
These people strive to be a bitch. They wear their hideousness like a badge of honour. It becomes their brand. They will mix it up by being nice now and then to certain people, generally people who have bowed down to them first, just to make them seem more human. But by god....they love it. They love being disliked. And they will have their followers who love it too. It can almost be funny, unless you’re one of their victims. DetroitDiva used to attack people for liking the band Busted. I was a massive Busted fan (still am tbh lmao) and it used to hurt me to my very core when she’d go on and on and on about them, talking directly to their fans and mocking us for liking this band. And you know, she was smart with it - this was a kids forum after all, we were all in our early teens, and it was a moderated forum so no offensive language could be used. But it just made her smarter with her dialogue, and that way it hurt more. And god, she fucking loved it.
I still see people like this today. Actual adults. I have seen people like this, to various degrees, in every fandom since. They may not directly come at people (although they’re not afraid to), but they will still make damn sure they’re making someone somewhere feel crap about something or someone they like, or a certain opinion they have.
The Trolls
Ugh. There will always be one or two. On tumblr, people will always get anon hate from time to time. But sometimes, and this doesn’t necessarily happen in every fandom, but it can happen....you get full on, unabashed trolls who don’t hide behind anon, who use their main blogs to terrorise and bully the fandom.
I have only experienced this on an extreme level once, in a previous fandom. I watched a small group of girls who started off as the Mean Girls, led by the Queen Bitch™, escalate into full on trolls. I’m talking about writing call-out posts, calling people really gross names, telling people to block/unfollow certain blogs in the fandom (I was one of the targets) and telling people to steal our work - all because we were a little popular, and all because when they first started showing their damaging behaviour*, we tried to (politely) talk them out of it. 
They used people’s real names, they stalked our blogs for months and months on end, they continuously wrote nasty posts about us for months after we blocked them and stopped interacting with them. 
This is probably kinda rare, but it’s something that can escalate if people don’t react a certain way to certain behaviour. More often than not, trying to reason with these people by politely telling them the way they word things isn’t cool or whatever, isn’t going to help. They don’t care, and they don’t want to listen. Of course, not everyone who puts themselves across in a bad way is a bad person; some people can change, can check themselves, can stop and think “oh shit, I should probably be more careful how I say things”. But unfortunately, in most cases, reasoning doesn’t work.
In that particular case, we tried calling them out. A couple of people tried writing reasonable, rational posts warning others in the fandom about certain blogs and how they had started bullying people. This only spurred the Trolls on even more, they lapped up the attention, and that’s when their behaviour got even more extreme.
If you see a troll in your fandom, or you see negative behaviour which you realise is inappropriate, you are not obliged to confront these people or call them out. More often than not, the very best thing you can do is unfollow and/or block them, and don’t interact with their posts. Maybe warn your mates about them privately, but don’t make a song and dance about it. Let these people become invisible to you. Stop and look at who else might be associating themselves with these people. Protect yourself and other’s as much as you can by not giving these Trolls the validation they crave.
‘The Trolls’ is a rank. It goes Troublemakers > Mean Girls > Queen Bitch > Troll. I have literally watched people climb this ladder (or....slip down it, depending on which way you look at it). It is the perfect example of the negative ranking system within fandom. 
The Peacekeepers
These are the ones that avoid drama, but at the same time they’re not afraid to acknowledge drama without getting directly involved. They will write a separate post telling people to cool it, to love and respect each other, when they see things may be getting a little heated. They just want an easy life and they want everyone to be friends. They generally turn away from the Mean Girls, or the Troublemakers, but at the same time they try to keep an open mind and will interact with those people if the Troublemaker/Mean Girl happens to reach out to them first (the less extreme levels of Mean Girl/Troublemaker, that is). These people tend to be relatively popular as they’re generally pretty nice people, even if they can maybe be a little too sensitive now and then.
The Others
There are more, of course. Not everyone can be fit into a box, or a role, or a rank - although generally most people will have traits from certain categories. This post isn’t about defining every single person that enters fandom, it’s just looking at some of the more prolific and dominating groups you tend to see.
----
After thoughts and some clarification;
A lot of people can fall into multiple categories, or switch from role to role as they establish themselves in the fandom, gain confidence and find their footing. Gaining confidence can be both a good and a bad thing, depending on how you use it. 
I’m generally talking about the most extreme or at least the most common cases in each of these Roles. As I said at the start of this post, there are definitely ranks within each category. 
For example, not everyone in the Mean Girls category is a total bitch. I should know; I was one (a Mean Girl, not a total bitch!). I was in that group once, in a small clique of girls who weren’t overly pleasant. They weren’t technically mean (at least....not to too many people), they just weren’t overly nice. 
As I said at the start of this post, in order to write this in the first place I’ve had to look back and reflect on my own fandom behaviour/experiences, and to prove that I’m not a hypocrite I have written a separate post talking about the roles I myself have played within various fandoms in the past. You can read it here.
So I’m fully aware that things aren’t always as black and white as they may appear on the surface, and they’re not as black and white as I may have made them appear in this post when describing the roles of fandom. I know good people do bad things, say bad things, and get mixed up with bad people. This isn’t actually about shaming anyone or making anyone feel bad.
Ultimately, this post is just an assessment. There are grey areas of absolutely everything. I personally find this stuff fascinating, to take a step back and look at yourself, at your peers, and see if you can figure things out. You’ll be surprised by what you see when you look hard enough.
At the end of the day, you can learn a lot from fandom. It’s actually a fascinating social experiment, putting a bunch of people together from different walks of life, different ages, with one common interest. As I said, it has taught me so much about myself - and trust me, not all of it is good (which again, you can read in my separate post about my own personal experiences).
I have 100% made mistakes in every fandom I have been in, pretty much. I have been too harsh and I have been too nice but ultimately I will always give people three bits of advice when entering a fandom:
Be nice and respectful to others
Trust your instincts
Be honest
I’d also say “look out for your friends”, but I actually think you should look out for yourself first. Fandom can mess with your brain. It can give you a massive sense of validation one minute and make you feel like crap the next. Fandom is a revolving door, and most people are ultimately disposable. This stuff can be easy to forget if you’re having a good time, but when you’ve been around a while and have experienced some of the more unpleasant aspects, those things become frightfully clear. It’s the nature of fandom and it’s important to not take that stuff too personally, even if it can be really hard not to.
This post is actually just a bit of fun, it’s something I have discussed with many long-running members of various fandoms, and I’m certainly not alone in my assessment of fandom politics and hierarchies. At the same time though, people can take this as seriously as they want, and if it can open anyone’s eyes to the fascinating goings on of fandom politics then I hope you find it as interesting as I do!
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jungnoir · 7 years
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tagged by @jingogi quite a while back, but never got the chance to really sit down and do this. It’s such a cool tag!! so here we go...
rules: pick a story/scenario/etc. from a few muses/idols you write for that you really enjoyed writing, whether it gained popularity or not – and then tag your favourite fellow writers to share their own favourite works as well!
I did more than one story for a few idols rip, I hope that’s cool.
bts
destiny ⇢ yoonkook x reader, demon and angel au. one of my fave series I have ever planned out. I’m very excited to lay everything out and tie this series up in a bow one day. I spent countless hours staring up at my ceiling, mapping out this story as much as possible. It has become a bit of a pride for me.
amour chassé-croisé ⇢ jungkook x reader, miraculous ladybug au. this was very fun to write. I don’t usually just write straight with barely any stops but I did for this fic. I love miraculous ladybug and often times, when I like a show or movie, I fantasize my favorite groups in place of its’ characters. I kinda sat down one day and said “imagine if this was a thing? ...I’m going to make this a thing”
in between the lines ⇢ namjoon x reader, writing to life au. by now, you can probably see I love au’s. I’ve often thought about the relationship between writer and work, and even attempted to do something once where a writer got sucked into their own story. This is really the reverse, and I love this au.
kim’s emporium of the strange ⇢ taehyung x reader, witch au. If there is one thing I’m soft for, it’s magic au’s. Around halloween last year, I really struggled to come up with some cool halloween au for Taehyung. I have like two or three semi-long drafts for versions of kim’s emporium of the strange that were titled “pumpkin spice and everything nice” (ik, cringe lol). this one got a lot more attention than I thought (and a nice ass moodboard by @shinybts who according to tumblr does not exist and won’t let me @ them but I find a way)?
first love ⇢ yoongi x reader, best friend au. ONE OF MY FAVORITES!!! I never thought it would have gotten the attention it did, and I’m super proud of it. felt more like writing a fantasy of mine than a well planned fic which is probably why I enjoyed it so much lol.
the married life ⇢ yoongi x reader, vampire au. I spent quite a long time on this (this was my longest fic ever? hmm). I was a little let down in the beginning when this fic didn’t get a lot of love so I kinda sat around moping about what might’ve turned people away from reading it, but I’ve found my peace with it now. I really do love this fic and I put a lot of heart into it so in the end, it doesn’t matter how much attention it gets, I’m proud anyway.
a dash of wicked ⇢ seokjin x reader, writing to life au and villain au. I love love love au’s about villains becoming good/getting redeemed. I didn’t know if jin would really fit a legit villain so I went for a children’s book one, and I really liked the idea. it was fun to play with!
take a breath ⇢ jimin x reader, dad au. stay at home dad!jimin, that is all. 
got7
i’ll always make it back to you ⇢ jackson x reader, zombie hunter au. my first fic for jackson and my first smut 🙈. I was going through a zombie au phase and this came out of it. I like how soft it felt.
frat boy!got7 ⇢ got7 x reader, frat boy au. YOOOOOOOOO this was a monster to do but I love love love doing hc’s for got7 and this just came out really lovely. I’m not a fan of frat au’s so you can see how much I loved this one to add it to my favorite fics list :)
babysitter!got7 ⇢ got7, babysitter au. I cannot tell you where this really came from but I just love the thought of babysitter!got7 okay.
got7 working at a grocery store ⇢ got7, grocery store worker au. this shit... every time it gets a note I get reminded that I did this in like a night and it was so utterly random and silly but a lot of people have said it’s funny and honestly... this is what I create when I have no restraints :D
one of those days ⇢ jinyoung x reader, neighbor au. one of the cutest things okay. I don’t write for jinyoung often but writing this made me fall for him.
spirit!yugyeom ⇢ yugyeom x reader, spirit au. to this day, I have been threatened over this piece more than any other thing I have written. I love it.
ghost!jaebum ⇢ jaebum x reader, ghost au. so fucking depressing. I love it.
ghost!youngjae ⇢ youngjae x reader, ghost au. the ghost au that started it all and is still one of my favorite pieces that I wrote sitting on my mom’s toilet for half an hour.
seventeen
boyfriend!jeonghan ⇢ jeonghan x reader, boyfriend au. currently the only living proof I am soft for this libra. 
dad!hoshi ⇢ hoshi x reader, dad au. I definitely struggled with which ways to approach this story, but I liked how it came out. I got a little extra with it tbh, but I enjoyed writing it. 
college boyfriend!jihoon ⇢ jihoon x reader, college bf au. AHHHHHHHHH!!! the thing that solidified me as a woozi stan. I had soooo much fun with this you don’t even know. I love it so much.
college boyfriend!minghao + animal shelter volunteer!minghao ⇢ minghao x reader, college bf au and animal shelter volunteer au. another fun one, I really had feelings for minghao after this one!! I love the idea of minghao being a lover of unorthodox pets and just being a cute bf. 
college boyfriend!wonwoo ⇢ wonwoo x reader, college bf au. this is almost at 700 notes 😱. I didn’t know you guys liked wonwoo this much until I wrote this. I’ll keep that in mind.
bonnie and clyde ⇢ wonwoo x reader, hacker au. I won’t lie and say I didn’t listen to the mystic messenger theme on repeat and didn’t look at 707 aesthetics on pinterest to get in the mood for this one. 
monsta x
tough guy ⇢ jooheon x reader, biker gang au. I wrote this for my friend jen’s request and no lie... I was swooning for jooheon in the end. I always thought it was really cute!!
babysitter!monsta x ⇢ monsta x, babysitter au. ahhhh, this came from monsta x ray ep 5 bc monsta x and babies kill me. usually these long hc’s tire me out and this one definitely did, but I love it.
truce ⇢ changkyun x reader, rival au. this was the official debut of my love for changkyun, I believe. I have this ongoing thing in my head that me and changkyun are rivals, always one-upping each other and trying to embarrass the other before we fall for each other in the end. this was more of a pleasure write than anything :)
hate me now ⇢ wonho x reader. okay, I really love me some day6 and their emo songs, so when I heard “how can I say?” I was really inspired to do something angsty and sad but I had no idea who to do it for. Then, wonho popped into my head because I seldom write for him and I don’t know... it just fit. It was quite an emotional write for me. I’m glad I posted it. I usually aim for happy endings but this was new for me.
nct
boyfriend!taeyong ⇢ taeyong x reader, boyfriend au. One of my very first posts on this blog. It hit 500 notes recently and I’m still??? wow??? this was when I was at the height of my love for taeyong (pshhh, I’m still at the height of my love for taeyong).
blackpink
blue lagoon ⇢ lisa x reader, mermaid au. my non-kpop friend found out about my writing blog and really, really wanted me to do a mermaid au for a girl group and lisa was the glaring choice in my head. I love Lisa and mermaid au’s and this was just a nice thing to make. low-key based reader off me because I cannot swim either haha. 
welp!! that was a lot of fun. I liked looking at all the things I’ve written and picking my favorites, and I hope all of you that I tag can do the same and admire all the good work you’ve done. now, I’m tagging...
@seoulscapes (have fun with this one girl), @stormae (I hope it’s okay to tag you!), @teeyongs, @ultdabdab and @kimtrain!!! let me know if any of you would like to be untagged!
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nyhne · 7 years
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Fanfic Asks
Was kindly tagged by both @gummyboots and @niniel-kirkland for this, thanks! c:
Why/how did you get into fanfiction? Huh, you know, I’m actually not sure. Possibly it came first from Warriors RPs? But it’s actually kinda interesting in that it was kinda a no-go to do anything with the actual canon content? Like if you were RPing as one of the canon characters it was seen as unoriginal or kinda big-headed, and that went for fanfic content as well. So yeah, I feel hesitant to say that I first started getting into fanfiction when I got into Hetalia, but I’m not sure when exactly I had gotten into it before then ahaha
Why did you get into writing? Don’t really have a ‘why,’ but have always been dipping my fingers into creative pursuits since I was a kiddo. Didn’t get into fanfic writing until Hetalia, but got back into more consistently writing when I started reading the Warriors series. 
How long have you been writing? Gee, since I was pretty small probably. Fanfics not really until Hetalia, which would have been around 2009
Do you think you’re a good writer? Hoooboy no. I think I’ve improved a lot, but I still have a long way to go to even feeling comfortable with my own writing 
Do you think you’ve improved? Definitely, and I think I’ve especially improved within the last year since I’ve started to actually transition to writing for myself? Or at least, it’s made me feel a lot more comfortable actually writing and that feels like an improvement c:
Name one thing that helps you write Lots of inspiration from things I experience in life! Stuff from just riding on public transportation, to watching movies, to going to concerts. It (shamelessly) makes me think, ‘what if this character was in this situation?’ and that definitely gives me fuel to write. Another thing that helps me actually write is just to talk out ideas ( @erengelion knows this well and has spent many a car rides with me blabbering about my fics lol) because it helps keep me inspired to write.
Have you ever gotten hate related to fics? I don’t think so, at least not aloud or anything that I’ve seen ahaha. I’m sure folks pass judgment on my fics all the time, but whether or not they voice it is another thing
Fanfiction or books? Oh boy gonna be kinda trash here and say fanfiction just in terms of consumption? I read a lot more fanfiction than I do ‘actual’ books
Do you want to professionally write? If not, what would you like to do/what do you do? Er, yes/no. I’m still too apprehensive to want to write professionally for fiction, but I’d be interested in doing stuff like analytical journalism/editorial writing- it’s actually why I have a creative writing minor (technically with a non-fiction tract)! Kinda interested in maybe trying to do more with poetry, but still lots of angst about actually publishing stuff ahaha
Have you ever been published professionally? Not really, one poem posted in an open-submission online magazine but that’s it so far c:
What is your favorite story/ies you’ve written? Fox Fic always has a soft spot in my heart just because it’s pretty self-indulgent and it’s been worked on for so many years. I know I like it too, because I’m still pretty enthusiastic about finally getting to rewrite it. It’s gonna go through a lot of major changes from its first draft, but I’m facing it with a lot of excitement, rather than resentment, which I take as a positive sign, if that makes sense!
Why is it/are they your favorite(s)? Poop sorry I gotta start reading ahead on these questions ahaha. But yeah, fox fic for the reasons stated above. Another fic I’ve enjoyed is the Antonio fic (Enamorate) just in that it’s been something new to explore and I’ve enjoyed the (relatively) slow build of it. There’s also a GerIta fic I’ve been working on that I really enjoy writing because a) it’s been nice exploring different characters but even as I say that what I really enjoy is writing about is b) Gil and Roderich’s relationship (which is on the backburner in the fic since it’s a GerIta story) because they’re kinda a mess and a half (in Ludwig’s eyes at least) in the fic and it’s super fun having them be a part of the story, without being the main focus? 
What is your least favorite story/ies you’ve written? Hooboy uh I dunno there’s a lot of older stuff that I just cringe at now. 
Why is/are they your least favorite(s)? Just younger writing, it feels like it’s trying to be too much, it’s pretty angsty but not really in a...necessary way lol
What is something you expect from a fanfiction? @niniel-kirkland put it well- it’s really great and interesting to see new perspectives on canon! You get to take the characters so much deeper in fanmaterial, and I love seeing it
How do you feel about troll fics? Aha I’ll read them, but uh, not really my go-to favorite category
What is your favorite writing style? I mean, if this is ignoring what I’m actually capable of writing, I’m a pretty big fan of thought/stream-of-consciousness writing with long sentences and lots of sentiment packed into it. A great example of a style I like is this fic! But otherwise, I tend to write in a bit more of a straightforward way. I have a hard time expanding details, even though I want to /: 
Do you write things for the sake of popularity? In some ways I used to? Or it was popularity guised as really just wanting to feel validated on my writing ahahaaaa...But I think now I’ve moved beyond that a lot more. I of course still have a lot of angst over other folks liking my writing, and I do have angst over statistics just because it can be such a visual representation of what people think of your work? But like I said, trying to get myself over that (~:
Do you think fanfiction is a good way to get into writing? Sure! Frankly, I think fanfiction is writing, but yeah I dunno why not lol 
What is something you like about the fanfiction world? Just how much can be explored! It’s great to see what folks come up with, and it can be really thought-provoking which is pretty cool, especially if the canon material is a bit ‘flat’
What is something you dislike about the fanfiction world? I dunno, the whole popularity thing can really get to your head and it’s rough to deal with. But that’s pretty much what life is always like so ahaha;;;
What is a pairing you’re currently shipping? Oh boy does it need to be said
What is something canon you’ll never ship? To be honest I’m still kinda /squinty eyes at Katara/Aang from The Last Airbender
What is something fanon you’ll never ship? Sometimes I’m kinda /squinty eyes at Spamano too sorry :xxx
In conclusion: Any writing advice? You’ll keep growing, don’t worry c: 
Lots of folks have already been tagged but if @lordsardine or @spockoutt wanna give it a whirl (or not!) go for it <3
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therealjammy · 6 years
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All the other questions for the author's ask :)
1. Is there a story you’re holding off on writing for some reason?
I’ve always loved stories and movies that take place at boarding schools and so I’ve always wanted to write a story/novella that takes place there but I’ve never found the right setting or time period or characters or events and it blows
2. What work of yours, if any, are you the most embarrassed about existing?
The very first novel I ever wrote and finished. It still hasn’t seen the light of day or an editing and it’s been 4 years 
3. What order do you write in? Front of book to back? chronological? favorite scenes first? something else?
I usually try to write everything in chronological order but when I get stuck, I dive right in to the meat of the story/my favorite scenes and then try to work the story around that
4. Favorite character you’ve written
In terms of fan fiction, my character Nikita Mikhailov, who is Villanelle’s new handler in my fic Stands the Lonely Tree 
In terms of original work, I really like my character Marjorie Addams, who appears in a novella I wrote a year and a half ago called Eden, which takes place at a music camp over seven days and somebody dies 
5. Character you were most surprised to end up writing
Villanelle, tbh; I love writing from her POV
6. Something you would go back and change in your writing that it’s too late/complicated to change now
I would definitely change how melancholic it is because I really feel like people hate that 
7. When asked, are you embarrassed or excited to tell people that you write?
Excited, most of the time; I’ve never had anyone in my life tell me that what I want to do is useless or not worth pursuing, and for that I’m incredibly lucky
8. Favorite genre to write
Realistic fiction but my guilty pleasure is post-apocalyptic and attempts at period pieces (like my latest play!)
9. What, if anything, do you do for inspiration?
I watch my favorite movies or I go to the bookstore or to the movies and other times I read my favorite books or fic authors or listen to new music; all these things have helped spark inspiration at some point or another!
11. What aspect of your writing do you think has most improved since you started writing?
Definitely dialogue; I used to struggle with that so much but now it’s relatively easy in prose form anyway; plays are a whole different beast but I won’t go into that right now lol
12. Your weaknesses as an author
Humor. I feel like I can’t make anything light-hearted or funny to combat the seriousness of my stories (Phoebe Waller-Bridge please take me under your wing)
13. Your strengths as an author
People tell me my writing flows quite well and that I’m very detail-oriented and that they really like my style (how it sounds poetic at times), so I guess those would be strengths
14. Do you make playlists for your current WIPS?
Sometimes, yes, particularly if I’m writing a scene that has a certain vibe to it, I have to find a song that matches that vibe 
15. Why did you start writing?
Ever since I was a tinier human, I’d always been making up stories, whether I was outside playing with my horses and zoo animals and dolls or just writing random sentences. I remember once, when I was 9, I was thinking of this story and I started writing it down and I had a moment of ‘I can get what’s in my head onto the page?!’ and it was just this giant revelation, and so I’ve been writing ever since then. I didn’t start to take it seriously until I was in high school, and that’s when I began writing “for real,” I guess you could say, and I also took it up as a sort of therapy because between middle school and high school there was a lot of trauma, and writing about it helped. 
16. Are there any characters who haunt you?
Ah, there’s my character from my very first novel, Abigail Leatherby, who I haven’t been able to stop thinking of ever since I first met her; and then there’s Winnie Andersen, my sassy OC from a post-apocalyptic novella I was working on a year and a half ago; and also Marjorie Addams, who I have a lot of feelings about
18. Were there any works you read that affected you so much that it influenced your writing style? What were they?
The first book I ever read as a “serious writer” was The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold and it influenced me in terms of the melancholy and nostalgia department, because it was a character literally looking back at life while she wasn’t able to live it anymore (because she’s dead); then there was Donna Tartt and her fucking Dickens style of writing that’s so elegant and refined and detailed and I stole a few detail-writing tips from her; and now I must say the lovely Luke Jennings has influenced me too in terms of not shying away from rather explicit things, because if you have a character that’s into those things, you may as well be explicit about it. Reading his novel gave me more confidence to not censor myself as much. 
19. When it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timelines, etc?
I’m the kind of author who rarely plans their shit out; I just write as it comes and hope for the best in tying everything together in a neat little bow, but when the story is really complicated, I usually like to outline major plot events and then try to string together all the little things that lead up to those major plot events. It’s a pain in the ass but it helps so much
20. Do you write in long sit-down sessions or in little spurts?
I do both depending on how much of an asshole my brain is being
21. What do you think when you read over your older work?
“There’s potential lurking under these really badly written lines and dialogue, I just have to get my hammer and chisel!”
22. Are there any subjects that make you uncomfortable to write?
Really explicit sex is one of them, especially if it has to be anatomical… I just can’t; it makes me cringe so much. And there’s also some violence or trauma subjects I won’t write about simply because I’ve yet to get a distance away from a few things that happened to me in order to write about them without being taken back to when they happened
24. Have you ever become an expert on something you previously knew nothing about, in order to better a scene for a story?
The only thing I can think of right now is film photography and how you had to develop it in a darkroom (although personal experience helped with that too)
25. Copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph you’re particularly proud of
Anna Leonova’s apartment is sealed off by bright crime scene tape eventwo months later. There are signs of traffic but other than that there isnothing. Her precious belongings are collecting dust. The place smells staleand lifeless. It had once been full of it, a warm place with conversation andbooks and passionate sex and as she retraces old steps, Villanelle takes in theold details. There is the table they’d had lessons at. There is the couch she’donce slept on out of a sort of fear that, after being in Anna’s bed for sexualreasons, Anna wouldn’t want her there for any other intimacy. There is thechair they’d defiled. There is the bathroom where Villanelle had first kissedAnna. And there is the bedroom, that precious place, the last place anythinggood had happened between them. It isn’t yellow with morning’s light. It’s greyand sour.
Thank you, Anon! 
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