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revasserium · 9 months

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i love your replies to the writer’s ask! about the compliment you gave yourself, yes. i do agree. i’m trying to recall which HQ fanfic of yours i first read. i’ve read so many of your works from that era. as i’m sieving through my memories, a few works of yours pop up like kageyama & the world responding?? daichi’s story with the prompt on goodbyes? adore the way you hook and drag. without looking at your masterlist, which story immediately comes to mind when you think of “time”?

about driving, since i’m still new i haven’t driven much. i’m very excited to cruise on the roads, but i’m also really bad at overtaking (i.e. i can overtake—or else how would i have passed my driving test—but i haven’t done it when cars are going fast & when it’s crowded… road conditions for my test were milder). it’s scary… SJDJSJDJSJ. i’ll hopefully be driving soon with my parent who can instruct me. i think for the time being, as i get used to the car, i have to focus, but i look forward to blasting music while driving 👍 — @anonymilk

also the poem you gave me was so great 🥹 thank you!! are there any poems from that author you like as well?? why do you like them specifically?? — @anonymilk also what happened the past 2 weeks r u alright :( — @anonymilk

combining ur asks! <3 hope u dont mind and sorry i take so long lol but answers in the cut!

uGH that reaper!kageyama x angel!reader fic is still one of my all time favs u__u im so happy you remember that one. sldkfjasd and the daichi story T^T -- i realized that pre-hiatus i was so so so kagehina biased with a hard sprinkling of suga but then post-hiatus i came back and suddenly i'm a daichi stan like is this..... IRL character dev bro. am i just into the Greenest of Green Flags now. not that i dont still adore kagehina bc i do. u__u they are my babies.

in terms of "time" -- i think the one that comes to mind most immediately is the hinata "length of daylight" fic i wrote! it remains one of my fav hinata fics i've written to date :D

for driving -- it def is something that needs lots of practice! but you'll get there!!! i'm excited for you!!!! and yeah to this day, i hate overtaking ppl but it's a necessary evil LOL

re: agha shahid ali YES oh my god okay. i love his stuff. i actually found him when i saw a poem of his on the new york subway lol im not even kidding. and it still remains one of my favorite poems of his to this day -- it's called Stationary, and it goes like this:

The moon did not become the sun. It just fell on the desert in great sheets, reams of silver handmade by you. The night is your cottage industry now, the day is your brisk emporium. The world is full of paper. Write to me.

i think the reason i fell so in love with it is because every single line is so vivid. not to say that most of his other poems aren't like this as well but like. idk something about this just spoke to me so much? i love love love metaphors about like irl things turning /into/ paper or ink or like... writing-related stuff. it's just such a beautiful image to me. also like there's a phrase in every line that strikes me "reams of silver", "brisk emporium" -- and something about the sentence "the world is full of paper" makes me like want to yell bc it's so??? GOOD??? bc yes!!! the world is full of paper!!!!!

and obviously, the ending just SMACKS you doesn't it? write to me. ugh. UGH. ugh its so good.

sometimes this poem still comes back to me in random moments and it makes me happy.

and now for some not so fun stuff. tw for like... ilness and death but yeah uh.

this entire summer has just been kind of ass tbh??? like. during the single month of july, we had 4 people in my family/friend circle pass away -- 2 grandparents, 1 uncle, 1 friend of a friend (who was literally only 24yrs old!!! bruh!!!! WTF!!!). we thought August was going to be chiller, but nope. last day of Aug, last thursday, my boss's wife passed away after battling with cancer for 2+ years.

it hit hard for our entire team at work bc like. she was younger than my mom. and my boss is such an industry veteran, and he and his wife have been married for 17 years, they have a 13yr old son like... it just sucked all around. we all went to the funeral this past wednesday. it was a beautiful service, but obviously really freaking sad. half our entire office was there, everyone was crying. i was crying like. it was a mess.

and then right after, i think my body had had ENOUGH of this nonsense, and i got a really bad fever literally ONE HOUR after i got home from the funeral. and i've been sick since then.

it's just been... unreasonably rough... i'm really hoping that this is the last big bad thing that's gonna happen for the rest of the year. like. im so exhausted -- pls @ the universe LOL. take it easy on us okay.

so yeah. i try to keep the heavy stuff off this blog bc it's supposed to be a place where i come to be happy and write things that make me happy so i haven't talked about this much but u__u since you asked, i didn't wanna just be like "oh yeah everything is fine" when it's not LOL

i do hope that the summer is treating you better though! <3

#Anonymous #anonymilk #this got way long LOL i hope you don't mind #🌧 raindrops

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crescentmoon223 · 5 years

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hi!! for the prompt: pre x files scully is sent to observe stella’s work on the field and take notes,, idk if this makes any sense so feel free to adjust it to your liking 💞

First of all, sorry it took me a million years to write this! And secondly, I hope this is what you had in mind. It took some time for me to work this one out in my head. Obviously, this is AU 😏

Power

“Trainees,today you’ll each be shadowing an agent in the field. This is an opportunity toobserve, to learn, to ask questions, and to test your skills as future agents.I encourage you to take full advantage and utilize every chance to further yourtraining,” Agent Carson said from the podium at the head of the lecture hall. Thedoor behind him opened, and men and women in neatly pressed suits began to fileinto the room.

DanaScully sat up straighter in her seat. A day in the field shadowing an agent wasan invaluable opportunity. Plus, it would be exciting, a chance to get a tasteof her future career and a break from training, drills, and testing. If she waslucky, she’d get to observe a case where she could show off her medical knowledge.

“WhenI call your name, please proceed to the front of the room and locate the agentyou’ve been assigned to,” Carson continued. “Trainee Abernathy, you’re withAgent Lopez.”

Abernathymade his way down the aisle and paired off with one of the men in suits. Danagathered her notebook and pen, stowing them in her bag so she’d be ready whenher name was called, not for the first time wishing she were closer to thebeginning of the alphabet. At least she’d chosen to sit in the front row, so shehad a better view of the line of agents than most of her classmates. The agentswere an intimidating bunch on the whole, staring stone faced out at the roomfull of trainees.

Danawasn’t intimidated, though. On the contrary, it was all she could do not toraise her hand in a futile attempt to hurry the process. Tapping one footagainst the floor, she watched as her classmates were called, one by one.

“Scully,you’re with Gibson,” Carson called finally.

Danastood so quickly her chair squeaked against the floor, smoothing her hands overher T-shirt and khaki pants. She picked up her jacket and bag and made her waytoward the row of agents remaining at the front of the room. A dozen piercingstares lasered onto her as she approached.

Shelifted her chin, tucking a flyaway strand of hair neatly behind her ear,painfully aware that not only was she one of the youngest trainees in herclass, but also that she looked even younger than her twenty-six years. Add hergender and small stature to the mix, and she had her work cut out for her. She’dalready had a bitter taste of just how hard it was going to be for her to betaken seriously in her chosen field. Case in point, the man in front of hergrunted in annoyance, as if the possibility of being paired with her wasridiculous.

Shepulled herself up taller as she passed him, grateful his badge read Timmons andnot Gibson. She passed by several more men, receiving more condescending looks,until she was ready to scream, I’m older and stronger than you think. Icould kick your ass if I needed to.

Butshe didn’t, of course, although she was sure her eyes were spitting fire by thetime she approached a petite blonde woman whose badge read Stella Gibson. Somethinginside Dana relaxed, as if her spine had been held taut by an elastic band thathad just loosened, at least a little bit. But her momentary relief atdiscovering she’d been assigned to work with a female agent evaporated as she metAgent Gibson’s eyes, because…whoa.

Danarocked back on her heels. This woman was every bit as powerful and intimidatingas the men she’d walked past, if not more so. She was in her mid-forties, impeccablydressed in a white silk blouse and black pencil skirt, her piercing blue eyescoolly assessing Dana with an intensity that made her squirm. Steeling herself,she stuck out her hand. “Trainee Scully.”

Gibsontook her hand, giving it a firm shake. “DSI Gibson.”

“You’reBritish,” Dana blurted, and the hint of a smile crossed the other woman’s lips.

“Iam, yes,” she confirmed, her tone brisk but not dismissive. “Not an FBI agenteither, although I’m assisting the Bureau for the summer. Your agent in chargewas short-handed today, so I agreed to step in.”

“Well,I’m ready,” Dana told her, confidence rebounding. “Do you know what kind ofcase we’ll be working on today? I’m a medical doctor, so I could get my bag ifyou think it would be useful.” She paused, mentally calculating how long itwould take her to run back to her dorm.

Gibsonshook her head, leading the way toward the door. “That won’t be necessary.You’ll just be observing today, Trainee Scully.”

Danacaught herself watching the sway of DSI Gibson’s hips as she walked and avertedher gaze to the notebook in her arms. She was on her way to her first crime scene!Her ponytail flopped against her neck with each step as she rushed to keep upwith DSI Gibson. The detective’s stride was brisk and purposeful, while Danafelt somewhat like an overeager puppy following in her wake. Nerves battledexcitement in her belly, making her feel as if she’d drank too much soda andnow the carbonation was fizzing inside her, looking for a way out.

“Rightover here,” Gibson said, leading Dana toward a government-issued silver sedan.Her demeanor was curt but not condescending, which hopefully boded well forDana’s learning potential today.

“So,you work for the Metropolitan Police?” she asked as she climbed into thepassenger seat. She set her bag on the floor before buckling the seatbeltacross her lap.

“Yes,”the detective answered.

Theinside of the car smelled vaguely…feminine was the best word Dana could thinkof to describe it. The air carried a hint of DSI Gibson’s perfume or hershampoo, something fresh and floral. Dana was accustomed to being around femaleagents who attempted to blend in with their male counterparts by wearing pantsand trying to look and act as tough as possible. It was a strategy Dana hadalready begun to mimic. She desperately wanted to be taken seriously, wantedthe patronizing looks to end.

Incontrast, the woman next to her oozed sexuality. Her makeup was flawless, herblonde hair perfectly coiffed. Her clothes looked expensive and flattered herfigure. Everything about her was soft and feminine, and yet, she gave off anintimidatingly powerful vibe. Instinctively, Dana knew this was not a woman tomess with.

“Howdid you wind up assisting the FBI for the summer?” Dana asked as they drove.

“Afavor for a former colleague.”

Apparently,Gibson was also a woman of few words. Dana made several more attempts to get aconversation started, receiving polite but brief responses in return. She sowanted to pick this woman’s brain, to learn anything and everything she couldfrom their time together today, but apparently, she’d have to learn byobserving, because asking questions was getting her nowhere.

Theydrove for about a half hour, eventually pulling to a stop on a quiet residentialstreet. Well, Dana imagined it was usually quiet. Today, the narrow, tree-linedstreet was bursting with law enforcement vehicles. Crime scene tape surroundeda single-story brick house on the left. Officers and crime scene techs bustledabout, marking and examining the area.

“It’syour lucky day, Trainee Scully,” DSI Gibson said as she parked the car. “Manyof your classmates will be observing break-ins and other misdemeanor crimescenes today, but we’ll be working an active homicide.”

“Oh.”Dana straightened in her seat, excitement sparking inside her. Her first crimescene, and it was a homicide! It was her lucky day. The experience shegained today would be invaluable to her future in the bureau. “I can’t wait toget started.”

“That’sthe spirit,” DSI Gibson said, lips quirking as she got out of the car.

Danagrabbed her notepad and pen, following the detective as she crossed the streetto speak to the officer working the perimeter of the crime scene. The youngman’s gaze dropped to DSI Gibson’s cleavage as they approached, and when helooked up, there was nothing professional about his smile.

Gibsonstared him down until he cleared his throat, his expression sobering. Then shegave her and Dana’s names, which he jotted in his ledger before ushering thembeneath the crime scene tape.

“Rightthis way, ma’am,” he said, nodding politely as she passed.

Impressive.

Knowingshe was only here to observe, Dana bit her tongue, holding her questions for amore appropriate time as they made their way into the house. Gibson stopped tospeak with several other officers—all men—as they walked, and she handled eachof them effortlessly, never raising her voice or betraying even a hint ofimpatience as her credentials were repeatedly questioned.

Bythe time she and Dana had reached the upstairs bedroom where the bodies werelocated, Gibson had a flock of admirers following in her wake, which she eitherdidn’t notice or refused to acknowledge. “This may be difficult,” she toldDana. “Please don’t hesitate if you need to step out for a moment. It happensto the best of us.”

Dana’sgaze settled on the two blood-soaked bodies in the master bed. Her fingersclenched around her notepad, eager to observe DSI Gibson in action and soak upevery drop of knowledge she spilled.

Gibsonapproached the bed. “Suspected murder suicide. Fred and Martha Hutchins.Married for over thirty years.”

Danastepped up beside her, taking in the carnage. Martha Hutchins lay on her back,eyes closed, an almost peaceful expression on her face, aside from the bulletwound in her temple. Her husband lay on his side facing her, fingers stillclenched around the gun in his mouth. Dana felt a tug of sadness for them,especially Martha. What had prompted this man to kill his wife and thenhimself?

“Areyou all right?” Gibson asked.

Danalooked over and saw the detective watching her closely. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Gibsonlooked unconvinced, and Dana realized she’d probably expected her to have astronger reaction to the scene, the blood, the mess, the scent of death in theair. She’d assumed Dana had never seen anything like this before.

“Thisis my first crime scene,” Dana told her, “but I saw more than my fair share ofbodies in medical school.”

“Ah,”Gibson said with a slight nod. “That would make a difference, I suppose.”

Shebegan questioning the officers who’d been first on the scene, quickly andefficiently working the room while Dana followed in her wake, making notes.Since it would not actually be up to her to solve the crime, her notespertained mostly to things that caught her interest and questions she’d like toask DSI Gibson later, if the opportunity presented.

Asit turned out, the couple had left a joint suicide note. Apparently, Martha wasin the early stages of dementia, and Fred had recently been diagnosed withterminal cancer. Knowing he soon wouldn’t be around to care for her, they’ddecided to leave this life together.

“That’sso sad,” Dana said softly, peering over the detective’s shoulder as she rereadthe note. “And maybe even a little bit romantic, in a tragic kind of way.”

“Let’snot romanticize a murder-suicide,” Gibson said briskly.

“Right,”Dana murmured, dropping her gaze to the notepad in her hands.

Shespent the next hour following DSI Gibson around, becoming increasinglyimpressed with the way the detective handled the other officers at the scene.So quiet, but so…powerful. She was in charge, and everyone knew it. Andyet, she wasn’t bulldozing her way around the room the way Dana might have ifshe’d been asked to lead, attempting to force the men here to take herseriously.

Quietstrength, she wrote in her notepad.

Powerstance

Pokerface

Unflappable

Cooldemeanor

Professional

Kind

Beforeshe’d realized what she was doing, she had filled two pages with observationsabout DSI Gibson, trying to pinpoint what it was about her that allowed her tocommand control of a room full of law enforcement so effortlessly. If Danacould just figure it out, it might be the most important thing she learnedtoday.

Shehad chosen a male-dominated, testosterone-fueled field—two of them actually, ifshe included medicine—and she could use all the help she could get innavigating her way through it. Gibson teased a lock of hair between herfingers, tossing it over her shoulder. She was mesmerizing to watch, sobeautiful, so effortlessly cool and in control.

Hairtoss,Dana wrote, wanting to remember the way DSI Gibson flipped her hair over hershoulder. It was sexy, but also indescribably powerful to watch.

Cleavage

Fittedskirt

Heels

Okay,her list had taken an unprofessional turn. Dana’s cheeks heated, and she closedher notebook, clutching it against her chest. Maybe she ought to spend a fewminutes observing without the distraction of her notetaking.

Sheshadowed DSI Gibson as she finished her investigation and led the way back tothe car. They’d been inside the house for hours, and Dana felt sweaty andrumpled from the activity. The woman beside her looked impossibly as fresh asshe had when they’d gone in. How did she even do that? Was it some sort ofBritish magic?

“Didyou get everything you needed?” Gibson asked, gesturing to the notebook claspedin Dana’s lap.

“Yes,I think so,” she said. “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions while youdrive?”

“Notat all,” Gibson said as she started the car.

“Perfect.”She’d managed to contain herself while they were inside, but she had questions,so many questions. This time with DSI Gibson was an invaluableopportunity to learn, to grow, to figure out how to handle herself in a man’sworld.

Danashifted to fasten her seatbelt, and the notebook slipped from her lap, floppingopen in the gap between the front seats. Gibson reached for it, pausing in theact of handing it back to Dana as her gaze caught on…oh God, it was the list ofpower attributes she’d written.

Shelooked at Dana now, her blue eyes gone glacier cold. “Is this a joke?”

Danasqueezed her eyes shut as embarrassment burned its way up her neck, resistingthe urge to snatch the notebook out of the detective’s hand. “No, ma’am,” shesaid quietly. “It’s…I was trying to figure out how you do it.”

“HowI do what?” Gibson asked, her tone edged in steel.

“Howyou…command a room,” Dana managed, forcing herself to meet the other woman’sgaze, hating the hostility she saw reflected back at her. Cleavage,she’d written. Heels. God, it looked like she was objectifying her thesame way the male officers inside had. Dana wanted to melt through thefloorboard and disappear. “You make it look so easy. They respect you. Iwant…someday, I want them to respect me too.”

Gibsonsighed, her gaze again dropping to the notebook as she glanced over the rest ofDana’s notes. When she looked back up, her eyes had softened. “It’s not in theway I dress.”

“Isn’tit?” Dana countered. “The other female agents I know try to dress as much liketheir male counterparts as possible, to blend in, I guess. I do it too.”

“You’llnever get ahead by blending in,” Gibson told her, handing the notebook back toDana. “You want to stand out, to be noticed, but for the right reasons.”

“Likewhat?” she asked breathlessly.

Gibson’stongue darted over her lips, wetting them, and Dana stared, transfixed. “Youhave to walk into a room like you belong there. If you’re in charge, act likeit. You can’t ask for respect or hope that it will be given to you. Expect it.Demand it.”

“Youdidn’t,” Dana said. “You didn’t demand anything of anyone today.”

“Didn’tI?” She cocked a perfectly plucked brow.

“Oh,”Dana said, her voice gone whisper soft as she remembered how Gibson walked intothe crime scene earlier, with the quiet confidence of a woman who owned theplace. She’d demanded that respect without ever saying a word.

“Itwon’t be easy,” Gibson said, the edge gone from her voice now. “You’ll have towork twice as hard, and still, it will take you longer to rise through theranks. You’ll receive lower pay and fewer accolades, and your male colleagueswill harass and belittle you every step of the way.”

“Oh,”Dana said again, even quieter. Yes, she’d known this, but somehow, for a fewminutes, she’d allowed herself to believe that if she owned a room like StellaGibson, the disadvantages she faced would disappear.

“Butthat doesn’t mean you don’t have power,” Gibson said in her crisp accent. “Knowyour assets and use them.”

“Myassets?” She felt herself flushing again, and this time not entirely fromembarrassment. Reflexively, she reached up and touched the outline of the crosspendant tucked beneath her T-shirt.

“You’rea woman. Don’t try to mask that fact. Use it to your advantage. People willunderestimate you, expect you to be weak. Sometimes, you can use thatassumption to trip up an unsuspecting criminal. Most of them are not nearly asintelligent as they appear on television.”

Danagrinned. “I bet.”

DSIGibson’s lips quirked in response. “Take them down when they’re least expectingit.”

“Ithink I need to…” Dana reached for her notebook, frantically jotting downeverything Gibson had said.

“Perhapsmost importantly, you can be an advocate for other women,” Gibson said. “Don’tlet female victims be seen through a male lens. See them. Speak up for them.”

“Yes.”She nodded as she wrote.

“Beconfident and unapologetic, but never compromise your integrity.”

“Thankyou,” she told the detective earnestly. “Really. This might be the mostvaluable advice I’ve gotten since I started my training at the academy.”

Gibsonnodded as she shifted the car into drive and pulled away from the curb. Shedrove for a few minutes in silence before her gaze darted to Dana. “Perhapsyou’d like to continue this conversation later?”

“Yes,”Dana answered automatically. She felt like she could listen to this woman speakfor a million years and never learn all there was to know about her, or fromher. And also, it gave her a strange thrill to think of seeing DSI Gibson againlater, in a more casual or informal setting. Dana had always been an unabashedteacher’s pet, but this felt…different.

“There’sa bar in my hotel. Say, eight o’clock?”

“I’llsee you there.”

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