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highpope · 3 years

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Silver Keys - Chapter Five

JJ Maybank x OC x Topper Thorton Soulmate AU

warnings: none, let me know if there ever are :)

notes: first, I know this took agesssss I'm sorry but I've been sitting on a couple chapters so you guys should be getting some updates for a while. Second, I lost my tag lists. so lmk if you want added to this one or my general tag list. I've been writing a lot more to cope with my anxiety so... things are coming bahaha. Love you guys, thanks for your support recently - J

Silver Keys Masterlist

June probably wouldn’t admit it to anyone besides her sister and Kie, but going out with Topper was fun. When he had asked her out to have dinner at the country club, she was worried she wouldn’t fit in at all. June was convinced she’d make it about 15 minutes before she bailed and met everyone back at the Chateau. She had on shoes she could barely walk in and a dress she found at goodwill, no doubt someone’s from a homecoming dance in years past and she was fighting the urge to pull her hair up all night. But then she realized they had talked straight through appetizers, dinner, and the waiter had come by twice for the check. The two of them had fallen into a comfortable understanding with each other that had continued into the following weeks.

He picked her up from work on most days, driving around in search of the perfect chocolate chip cookie. June argues that the small bakery run out of one of the local’s houses has the best cookies, but Topper is determined to try every option before making a decision. It had started as kind of a joke, but now it was just an excuse for them to hang out.

Currently, they were at the island’s movie night, chairs propped up near the back and various snacks shared between the two of them. Topper’s arm rested on her shoulders, something she had become accustomed to the past few weeks. June found herself more relaxed with him, it was easy being with Topper. She didn’t have to think or worry, June could just be.

They were playing The Sandlot, arguably the best movie of all time and June had to hold back from saying the iconic lines with the characters. She had grown up watching this movie with her sister and had practically begged Topper to go see it.

“Really?” He had asked the day before, “The movie nights aren’t really our thing.”

“Yeah, that’s because you guys always cause trouble and then get kicked out.”

He shook his head.

“Yes, you do. Besides, you’re gonna be with me and I am a model citizen.”

He laughed then and again in the chair beside her now.

She found herself leaning into him naturally, even with the arms of both their chairs in between them. It was something she had never had previously. June didn’t do relationships. In high school, she mostly stuck with the pogues and focused on school and not getting in trouble with the cops. Sure, she had the occasional crush or hookup with a touron, but nothing was ever serious. Not that this was, but it was closer to that than anything else June had experienced.

The next morning June had her last piano rehearsal with Mrs. Hana before the recital. The Saturday coming up was the big dress rehearsal. The one with the kids from all over the island and hundreds of different schools and programs. And the weekend following that was the recital. Her whole family was going. Her dad had even surprised her by getting a hotel room for all of them and making a whole trip about it. He had to work night shifts for two weeks, but he assured her it was worth it. Not that that added any pressure.

At rehearsal, June played nearly perfectly. She had only messed up a couple of notes near the end. She’d be lucky if Saturday went as smoothly as this. Mrs. Hana corrected her posture and made her go from the top. They went on like this the whole lesson: June playing and her correcting one thing at a time before making her start over. Normally, June would argue, but she knew it was because Mrs. Hana understood how important this was. This could set her future up, get her off the island if she wanted. She could do something she loved every day.

The night before the recital, June was laying on a hammock in John B’s backyard.

“Nervous?” Kie questions.

June shrugged, “Kinda, yeah.”

“I’m sure you’re going to do fine,” Pope said with confidence. It was only the three of them. John B and JJ had ventured out to get snacks and beer but hadn’t been back for an hour. June’s guess was they found a party and couldn’t bother to text an update. That or they got arrested. Which probably would’ve earned a phone call quicker than the first option. She chuckled thinking about this.

“It’s just a rehearsal and Liv is driving down with me so I don’t really have anything to worry about.”

“You seem to have this all figured out,” he said with a laugh.

Kie said, “And I cannot wait to celebrate when you get back! It’s gonna be so fun.”

June could only imagine what her best friend was thinking when she said this. She was sure it would end like most nights did, tipsy and watching movies on John B’s couch. Her favorite way to end a day. The three of them drift into a comfortable silence, lost in their thoughts. June starts to hear a familiar melody, but can’t quite put her finger on it. She was sure it wasn’t anything she had chosen to listen to, but couldn’t figure out where she had heard it before.

She was brought back to reality when John B and JJ come strutting into the yard, cases of beer on their shoulders and grocery bags in their hands. Kie and June both started cheering.

They set down the stuff on the closest table.

“What took so long?” Pope asked, getting up and rummaging through the bags. He pulls out a bag of chips before turning around.

“You’re not even going to believe it.” John B starts, taking a seat.

“Hey,” JJ yelled at June, “Gummies?” He asks and holds up a bag of gummy worms.

She nods her head and he tosses them over before grabbing his own snack and beer and joining her on the hammock. They all listen to JB’s story, JJ adding in his own variations and making everyone laugh.

“And who ended up being in front of us at the grocery store?” He paused for dramatic effect, “Sarah Cameron.”

June realized a beat late that she was supposed to be reacting, “Sarah Cameron!” she repeated.

JJ turned his head to keep from laughing.

“Am I supposed to be excited?” Kie asked, an annoyed expression on her face. She and Sarah used to be friends before they drifted into different friend groups.

“Yes, Kie. It was like fate.”

JJ spoke up, “I would hardly call it fate.”

John B just rolled his eyes at his friends and took another drink.

“What happened to Molly Fields?” Pope questioned. That was the girl we had gone to elementary school with, the latest victim of John B’s soulmate search.

“Nah,'' he dismissed, “This one’s different.”

“Well, I hope it is, JB,” June spoke up. He looked over and smiled at her.

The next morning June and Olivia jump in the car and start towards the concert hall where her dress rehearsal was being held. She had been up for hours, too excited and nervous to sleep. June had gotten ready, done her makeup, changed three times, and called Topper twice all before Olivia had even woken up. Downstairs, their mom had made some breakfast and June couldn’t bear to tell her she was too nervous to eat anything. So, she grabbed a pancake and thanked her parents.

They listened to music the whole way down, Liv was always determined to get June to listen to the most mainstream pop music she could. She always argued that she wouldn’t understand anyone’s references and it would be an embarrassing mess. June made sure to point out that she had made it 18 years without that ever happening, but nonetheless she persisted.

When they arrived, they parked the car and decided to window shop. They were still about an hour early from call time and Liv was restless enough as it was. June was trying to push her nerves down. She didn’t want to come across that way to the instructors. June had a vision that she would walk across the stage, take a deep breath, and be transported by the music. She didn’t want to have the weight of the competition on her shoulders or the constant confusion about her soulmate circling in her head. That was a new development. June found herself lying awake at night going over everything Topper had said or done and trying to place it into this mysterious soulmate cut out she had in her head. She was trying to do a puzzle with the wrong number of pieces. And she wasn’t even sure if it was the right picture on the box.

….

“Okay, turning the key a bunch of times isn’t going to do any good if the battery is dead,” Olivia said, snapping her head to look at June from the passenger side.

After the dress rehearsal, June had called Liv and the two of them had eaten in the cafeteria with a few other performers. June was practically glowing after being there for a few hours, she couldn’t imagine how she would feel at the actual recital. Everything was going perfectly.

Until they got back to the car and realized the battery was dead.

“Well,” June sighed, “I don’t know what else to do.” Her voice pinched.

“Can’t we call a mechanic?”

“Liv, you know we can’t afford that. Especially in this area. We just need a jump.”

She surveyed the empty parking lot and tried to think of what to do without panicking. They were too far from home to have someone just pick them up and there were no cars in sight. Even if there were, they didn’t have any jumper cables. Maybe they could take the bus home and get help tomorrow. June probably had enough cash in her purse for two bus tickets.

“Isn’t there like a trick with distilled water? That could get us somewhere.”

“You think I have distilled water in my car? Besides, I have no idea how to do that.”

“I’m just trying to give you ideas here,” Olivia said, unbuckling her seatbelt and getting out of the car.

June leaned her head back and closed her eyes, thinking and thinking.

She was interrupted when Olivia opened the driver’s side door and handed her the phone, “here.”

Confused, June lifted the phone to her ear, “hello?”

“June? What’s going on?” JJ’s voice was on the other end.

“J, we’re fine. Just a little car trouble.” She rolled her eyes at her sister.

“We’re stranded!” Olivia yelled so that he could hear.

“We’re fine,” she said, shooting her sister a look.

JJ speaks up, “Doesn’t sound fine. June, I’ll just come out and help. No problem.”

“No, no. We just need a jump-”

“I’m already in the car, just send me your location.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Yeah, but I’m going to.”

Defeated, June agrees and sends him the address of the music hall.

About 45 minutes later, JJ pulls into the parking spot opposite of them, “Hey,” he says as he turns the key and gets out of the car.

“Oh thank god! JJ, do you have AC? I’m melting.” Olivia yells. She’s already getting in his truck and rotating the fans to blow her hair back before he can process what she’s just said.

“I’m sorry,” June starts, but he interrupts her.

“Eh, no big deal”

“I can give you gas money for coming all the way out here.”

He shakes his head, “Nah. Here catch.” JJ throws one end of the jumper cables to her, “You know how to put them on?”

June scoffs, “This isn’t my first jump, Maybank.”

Once everything is sorted out with June’s car, the three of them drive to the nearest ice cream shop. Mostly because Olivia was being dramatic and promised to pay for herself, but also to thank JJ for driving the whole way out here just to get them home.

“I don’t know, it’s like what if my soulmate doesn’t like ice cream? Ew, or worse, orders mint chocolate chip.” Olivia said as they headed to a table outside. The spot they had picked was really nice, there were picnic tables with umbrellas lined up on a patio in front of the window they had ordered from.

June just laughed, a conversation the two of them had had more than once.

“What’s wrong with mint chocolate chip?” JJ asked.

Olivia made a face, “only everything.”

“Isn’t the whole point of a soulmate that you overlook those flaws and-”

“Please. Don’t lecture me.” She begs.

“She’s kinda right though,” JJ replies, looking at June for a second and scrunching his nose. She smiles back, looking down at her ice cream.

“Have you heard it?” She asks him.

“Yeah,” he clears his throat, “the other night at John B’s.” He meets June’s eyes. “I fell asleep on the pullout and the storm woke me up. So I was just laying awake and that’s when I heard it. It was really faint. Mad weird though,” He finished and took a bite of his ice cream, making June shudder.

She remembered the night he was talking about. It had stormed for about two days last week. She thought about what she was probably doing at the time, practicing for the recital, maybe reading until

she drifted off.

“Do you think you know who it is?” Olivia inquired.

He shook his head, “No, haven’t thought about it.”

“You don’t wanna know?”

“I mean, sure. But if I’m gonna find out anyway by force of,” he struggled for the right word before landing on, “the universe, then why stress right now?”

That answer seemed to have satisfied her enough because she nodded her head and stopped asking questions.

When she finally pulled into her driveway, June had a phone call.

The three of them had left shortly after ice cream, JJ following them most of the way back before he went off towards John B’s and June continued straight, with a quick wave behind her.

Olivia had practically jumped out of the car before she had even parked so now, June answered her phone, unbuckling her seatbelt.

“Hey,”

“Hey!” Topper said on the other end, “I wanted to see how everything went. I stopped by your house just a little bit ago, but your car wasn’t in front.”

June groaned, “That’s because we just now pulled in. The practice was great! Everyone was so talented and I got to meet a couple of instructors. It was really cool.”

“That’s amazing, bub.”

“Yeah, it really was.”

“What took you so long getting home?”

“Oh, uh. I just had some car trouble, no biggie.”

“Oh, is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just needed a quick jump and then we were on our way.” June chuckled, nervously. She hadn’t even thought to call Topper when her car wouldn’t start. Truthfully she hadn’t thought to call anyone, but she still felt nervous to tell him what happened.

“So someone had cables? That’s pretty lucky.” He pressed.

“Uhm. No, actually. We had to call JJ for some help and then we were good to go. It drove perfectly on the way home.”

There was a pause before he spoke again, “You could’ve called or texted me.”

“I didn’t want to bother you. I wasn’t even the one who called JJ, it was Liv.”

“Well, I could’ve helped.”

“It’s fine, really.”

“I would’ve called a mechanic for you, had someone come out and get you.”

“And I would have really appreciated it,” June laughed nervously, “Next time I promise I will call you.”

He stayed silent for a long time before speaking, “It’s just your first thought wasn’t to call your boyfriend. Forgive me if I’m a little upset.”

She pondered over his words for a moment, skipping over the mention of ‘boyfriend,’ “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come off that way.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “yeah, you’re right. I’ll call you in the morning, okay?”

June nodded even though he couldn’t see her and hung up the phone. She huffed, threw her phone in her bag, and marched up the sidewalk inside.

#highpopefics #silverkeys #silverkeys masterlist #jj maybank #topper thornton #outer banks #obx #jj maybank x oc #obx fic #outer banks fic #obx series #obx x reader

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athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit · 3 years

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Of Ice and Blood

Part 2

Hello there! I present to you, part 2 of my orc x fem!human series!

I still don't know what to name this fic of mine

I should've thought about the title in the first place lmao

Anyways! I'll try updating constantly if I can. Enjoy reading!

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)

Warnings: Cursing, lots of cursing. Mild violence and mentions of injury.

UD 01/10/21 : CLEANED AND PROOFREAD PROPERLY (hey I did my best)

(reference to the mask she's currently wearing //her hair is still braided// )

Even with the tedious introduction the professor was on about, I couldn’t help but pick up the whispers of my human classmates, and the unmistakable nasty odor they were giving off.

“Hey. Look at that orc over there.”

“Tsk. Beast. Why is it even here—”

“I bet it’s gonna get suspended from breaking someone’s arm.”

“It looks like he’s gonna kill somebody soon.”

Snickers and clicks of disgust went around the group.

The professor shushed them, not quite knowing what they were talking about before he moved on.

I cursed, feeling my blood boil from their words. The orc wasn’t even doing anything! And they slander him like that? I would love to break their fucking ne—

No, damn it! No violence! Mama will go crazy if she finds out I broke someone’s spine. Behave and endure. Remember your training.

...but seriously though, I'm going to fucking snap their legs. Nah, perhaps use pepper spray on their eyes until they go blind, even though the mixture inside my spray bottle wasn’t made to have permanent effects on someone, but it would still cause great discomfort.

I hugged my backpack, the thought of my dusters inside somehow comforting.

I didn’t notice Tai'chi was taking glances at me out of concern while I was imagining how I’d smash those jerks’ faces.

************************************

My mind wandered around the interaction by the gates earlier, and how... contradicting... it was when I entered the building.

Everything passed like a blur as I continued daydreaming about other things, hardly paying attention to what everyone else was saying. Plus it takes a lot of concentration to survive their pungent scents.

A bell rang, bringing me back down to Earth. It was lunchtime already.

Everyone seemed relieved as they started filing out of the area and headed towards the cafeteria. [a/n: Ooh that rhymed] I failed to see the lingering glances of barely masked distaste in our direction.

I glanced at the or— Tai'chi, whom I found out was looking at me already, stunning me at how he stared for a moment before I broke eye contact and stood up, which he also did. I almost fell back down my chair when I scented him.

Wha—

How the fuck did I not smell him before?!

I must’ve focused too much on the awful odor surrounding me that it didn’t register this—

This, oh my God.

To describe it, it was simply so— manly (or is it Orcish?). Like the scent of fresh earth and the warmth of a fireplace in the midst of a cold night. Embers crackling and sending sparks up into the sky.

He doesn’t smell one trace of a beast at all! In fact, I’ve never smelled someone so clean, so pleasant, all the while exuding masculinity, and was that a tad hint of vanilla?

For the first time in a while, I couldn’t place what the feeling was exactly. He simply smells so— good. Which is a positive sign?

I looked up to his eyes once more before I blurted out, probably a little too high-pitched;

“Lunch?”

Seriously? That’s what comes out of your damn mouth?

“I mean, do you want to go grab some lunch? At the cafeteria?” I clarified to sound normal and unaffected, (even when I clearly am).

Was the last part necessary? You’ve broken noses, dealt painful blows like a skilled warrior, but you’re embarrassing yourself.

I was busy reprimanding myself that I nearly missed what he said.

"Sure.”

He straightened up, and I was then faced with the reality of how damn tall he is. Or is it because I’m short? I barely reached over 5 feet, and he is standing there, almost three heads taller than me. Was he hunching for my sake earlier?

Wowie…

I scented a hint of pride, and was that a small quirk of his lips for a second there?

Huh. My mask is a lifesaver, or else he would've seen my jaw dropping.

I followed him out and headed straight for the campus’ cafeteria, all the while trying to converse here and there.

****************************

'Trying’ was not the right word.

Definitely not.

It was surprising, how easy and nice it was to talk to him. I could scent his apprehensiveness when I talked to him at first, but he relaxed not long after I introduced myself properly.

It felt... natural.

I learned that he came from the Northside of the country and moved to the city last year to pursue his dreams and to find a better future for his clan. I also told him about my family and home, along with my reasons for being here, leaving out the… violent part.

“My family and my entire clan wanted the best for me and my brothers. Up in the North, education is… very limited. Although ever since we were young, we were taught everything from our clan’s history, how to hunt for food, what herbs and plants were poisonous, what were medicinal and edible, how to stay alive, survive and so on.”

He paused for a moment before continuing.

“But we were cut off from the modern world. Times are changing, fast. Global warming being a major problem, leaving a huge impact on our living. So, when my clan heard about a school in the city, open to all races, they turned to us, the youth, and we took this chance.”

I looked down and thought about how disconnected the others were, only given the freedom to modern society eight years ago. Eight years is a long time, but I guess it’ll take more than that for everyone to get used to the change. That doesn’t mean they should treat them poorly!

As I realized I’ve been quiet for a while, I shot up and apologized for not replying.

“No, it’s okay. You looked like you were in deep thought. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Y-yeah… I was—”

“Thinking about how the majority of the human race still see us as beasts?”

There was a bit of spite in his voice, although barely noticeable. Or was it because I caught a whiff of it? No one was paying much attention to us while we were walking. But I noticed many of them hastily stepping aside and felt their glares at my back.

“How did you know?” I asked, curious.

“I could tell from your- I could tell, from the way you frowned earlier when one of those humans said something.”

Oh. He was looking at me that time?

“Frowned? But my mask—”

“It’s easy to tell if you are frowning when your eyebrows scrunch up like that. Believe me, my father does that a lot.”

“Ah. Well. It was just very rude of them. To talk shit about you and your kind like that, as if they were any better. You weren’t even doing anything, and they judge you based on your race. Orcs are civilized and intelligent just like any other, and I don’t understand why there’s still so much prejudice after eight damn years—”

I stopped and restrained the urge to go wild and curse every single human who smelled so foul every time we pass by.

“Sorry. I was...rambling.”

Was I this talkative? Maybe it's because I never had anyone to talk to.

He didn’t reply, which I found strange, so I glanced over at him and saw his eyes wide open and brows shooting up in surprise. It was almost comical.

“Uh, Tai'chi?”

Before he could even utter a word, we arrived at a huge hall where students were chatting and enjoying their lunch. Still, I noticed some humans were giving unkind looks to a gathering of goblins eating at the far left side corner of the cafeteria.

And of course, I didn’t fail to smell that wretched odor coming from a group of girls on my right when we walked in. I also recognized the one who pushed me, (No doubt it was intentional). I had to pinch my nose over my mask just but I could only block out half of it.

Ah shit, this mask doesn’t have proper air filtration.

I groaned as I tried to cut off the noise and thickened scents. For real, I wasn’t expecting it to be this harsh! I could literally smell discrimination and hate in the air!

Fuck. I should’ve worn my other mask. I swear I’m gonna burst if I stay and inhale more of that any longer—

“Pearl, are you okay?”

I groaned again and didn’t reply, busy controlling my sense of smell to even open my mouth. We were standing there like a pair of street posts, blocking a small part of the main entrance. That is if there was a 5ft- tall post. I’m more like that foldable caution sign.

“Pearl—”

“Hey, you there! Freaks! Move out of the way.”

Great. Another awful fucking odor. And what a coincidence! It was the one I smelled this morning!

“Are you deaf? I said—”

He shouldn’t have grabbed my shoulder, shouldn’t have tried to shove me aside, for the second I felt his hand reaching for me, and before Tai'chi could pull me away, my reflexes kicked in.

What did I do exactly? Oh, I simply grabbed that damned arm of his, threw him over my shoulder, and slammed him down on the tiled floor in front of me, finishing a one-arm shoulder throw.

The people in the area halted what they were doing and a short-lived silence came over, broken by whispers.

So much for keeping a low profile.

The guy I just performed basic self-defense on was spitting curse words at me. He was still on the floor, trying not to voice the pain in his back.

“Freak! You’re a monster, aren’t you?! How dare you do this to me. Don't you know who I am?!" he yelled.

Did he mean me or? Either way, what he said was not true.

I tried to calm my anger down and gave him a forced smile, under my mask, and mustered up the voice and tone I always used when I’m annoyed.

But right now, I am pissed.

“Now, dear, fellow, human, what you said was clearly untrue. I am entirely human and this person beside me is an orc. Or were you blinded by your overgrown ego and disgusting attitude to see the obvious in front of you? Surely that must be it. The entrance to the cafeteria is wide enough for two people to not serve as a hindrance to the ones coming in, but still, you chose to try and shove me aside yourself. Well, I won’t apologize but I’ve had enough pushing for one day. And lastly, no, I do not know you and I don’t care.”

I gritted my teeth, my face hurting from smiling forcefully. The cafeteria was quite silent enough all the while and no doubt they heard every word I said.

Fuck.

I twisted around and bolted out of the building.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck! I blew it! Fucking blew my chance to have a normal college life! Now everyone will think I’m some crazy person and would, without a doubt, avoid me forever.

I was too busy cursing and walking away, planning to hide in a hole for all eternity that I didn’t feel the presence of someone following me.

Without thinking much of where I was heading, my feet led me to a secluded part of the uni. Tall trees lining up before and around me looking like an entrance to a forest, and so I tried hiding behind one. Hoping that the guards wouldn’t notice and detain me or something.

I sat down between the great roots of an oak tree and rested my head on top of my knees as I took deep breaths and listened.

Nature always had a place in my heart. How could it not? When you can hear the chirps of little birds, the soothing sound of leaves rustled by the wind. And the peace that comes with it all.

Not to mention it smells so relaxing.

“Hello there.”

************************************

Haha! What will Pearl do next I wonder, and who is this person who followed her??

Had to cut it off at that part because my dearest self just loves cliff hangers—

And because I wanted to post something as soon as possible.

Hope you enjoyed! I will be working on the third part asap.

Tags: @kokokatsworld @crackinanutshell

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birlcholtz · 3 years

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Fic Questions

tagged by @the-lincyclopedia thank you!! (fun game: watch my writing get progressively less formal as the post continues. by the end it’s like what is capitalization)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

77!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

434,378 as of this week but it does go up quite regularly

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Okay so in terms of what’s on my AO3, I have Check Please, All For the Game, Sharp Zero, HP, and Miraculous Ladybug. I also have The Forbidden LOTR and PJO Fanfiction (as in, I’ve written it, but it’s never seeing the light of day)

(technically there is a PJO fic out there that has seen the light of day but I orphaned it because I was tired of getting comments asking about when it would be updated)

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

and then i met you (and the whole world changed)

for the better

Knew It Was You

come home (to you, to us)

sin bin schematics

All of these are Check Please and all of them except Knew It Was You are part of my Zimbits Airport AU!

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I do! It’s actually a very recent thing that I’ve started not responding to literally every single comment. Mainly I respond because I love talking about my writing so I am going to seize that opportunity when it comes up

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Oh, DEFINITELY Happy Birthday (HP). Check out that MCD tag ahah. (I say HP but what I really mean is that I write fic about Regulus Black. The Regulus Black-centric tag is my home in the HP fandom)

fun fact: this is a very short fic that I wrote when I was 15 and basically forgot about until recently, and then I reread it recently and went holy shit?? I pulled NO punches????

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the wildest one you’ve written?

Not a ton? I think a lot of the fandoms I write for don’t really mesh that well. That being said, the aforementioned orphaned PJO fic is actually a PJO/ML crossover, so there’s that

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Nope! Sometimes I get comments that are just.... really confusing? And a more common thing is that in my AFTG fic I’ll get comments from people who are so focused on Andreil (or the most common ships in general) to the point that like. they miss the point of what I actually wrote. Those are annoying but they’re not hate, they’re very enthusiastic, they’re just... enthusiastic about a story I’m not writing? So it’s a bit frustrating.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

No sjflskgjhgf I struggle enough to write kissing, I think if I ever tried to write smut my brain would just shut down. I’ve managed some fade-to-blacks (which are mostly in WIPs that haven’t been posted) but they rely HEAVILY on the powers of implication

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, although I have occasionally made a brief go of it, not to post, more as an exercise for myself in a language that I’m learning. Anyway I never finish them so I’m gonna say no

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not really? I’ve definitely group brainstormed fics and then written them (the best example of this being Q&A (AFTG), which was the product of a truly off-the-walls group chat), but I tend to do all the actual writing myself. I think the way I write would drive a co-writer up the wall since it’s very disorganized and I don’t write stuff down because ~I know what’s gonna happen I don’t need notes~ and it would infuriate me if I was co-writing with me lmao, so I won’t inflict that on someone else

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I regularly move through ships I’m SUPER focused on, like it’s kind of a rotation. I will forever and always ship Percabeth though.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Okay so if you follow me at @birlwrites you may know this already, but i have this ‘warmups’ document that is just like, random ideas i get that i don’t necessarily want to finish but i just want to try out for a bit? and i have a rule that once a ‘warmup’ is more than 10 pages long (so 11+) then it has to be moved to its own document, just to make scrolling through the warmups doc easier. but usually, a warmup only passes 10 pages when i’m INTO it. so i have a bazillion wips i will probably never finish. i complain about this a lot. i have so many wips. i don’t need more.

here’s one: it’s titled ‘interrobang doesn’t know they’re dating’, it’s basically a full outline for a chowder/tango fic and it would be SO cool if i could ever like. get around to writing it. but i am constantly swamped with writing projects, so it’s probably not gonna happen. if anyone’s interested in adopting it though i’d be down for that!! i think it’s a fun idea i just almost def won’t write it myself

15. What are your writing strengths?

SNAPPY DIALOGUE AND SNARKY INTERNAL MONOLOGUE. my writing is COMEDIC, 90% of my ideas are based on a funny snippet that popped into my head, a lot of my worldbuilding is based on ‘hey you know what would be hilarious’ (whenever i explain how larai selects a chosen one in the rainfall universe i start laughing, which is a STARK contrast to how it plays out on the page), i love writing funny stuff!!

also i think my writing sounds nice, a lot of the time i pick words/syntax based on sound and flow so there’s that too. and i have lots of ideas! i don’t struggle much with writer’s block because a) i have a lot of strategies to deal with it and b) i have a lot of ideas to help get around it/work with it

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

PHYSICAL INTIMACY LMAO, sometimes in my end notes on shippy fics you can see me complaining ‘it took me literally 4 hours to write that very brief kiss’. also sometimes the humor in my writing gets in the way a bit, i have to very consciously put it away so characters can actually have serious, genuine emotions. also i don’t like outlining and i tend not to get betas for fanfiction so like..... i do my best continuity-wise but having really tightly plotted stories is just not my focus lol. (and i do put more effort into that for original stuff, it’s just fic where i kind of go wild)

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

If the reader’s supposed to know what it means, then writing it in another language is iffy for me. (stuff like terms of endearment which come up a lot in fic are fine imo, you can just put a note in to translate them and your reader will prob remember)

If the pov character isn’t supposed to understand it, and it doesn’t matter if the reader understands it, then ig it’s fine? but unless you already speak the other language (and i am NOT confident in my ability to translate english into literally any other language), then i think it’s way easier to just note that a character’s speaking x language and provide tone indicators, body language cues, etc. so the reader understands as much as the pov character.

That being said there are def times when it’s used super effectively--the dialogue in spanish in cemetery boys comes to mind! that’s not fanfic but it’s still creative writing so w/e

so i guess it comes down to: does actually writing out the dialogue in the other language serve a purpose? if it doesn’t, then you’re filling up the screen with words your reader isn’t likely to understand, which i try to avoid doing

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

so the first fandom i actually *wrote* for was PJO, but i distinctly remember creating warrior cats OCs when i was little. i never actually did anything w them but i had them and my favorite was a riverclan warrior named shellstream i remember this VIVIDLY

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve ever written?

oh boy. okay so this is hard because i feel like i’m continuously improving as a writer. like in the sense that my writing is getting closer and closer to really matching my own taste? my favorites tend to always be my current projects as a result. and i do really love set those ghosts alight (HP) but it feels a little like cheating to say a fic i haven’t even finished writing yet. even though it’s def not cheating, that’s just the direction my brain is taking it.

i’m gonna say and then what? (OMGCP) because i’m super proud of the prose (especially ch 2 aka the first actual prose chapter), survived by (HP) for SUCCESSFULLY WRITING AN EMOTION and making readers cry :), and Q&A (AFTG) because i’m literally the one who wrote it and yet it still makes me wheeze. those are all fics i reread occasionally, because i’m big enough to admit i enjoy rereading my old stuff! (just like. to a point. some of my old stuff i can’t look at anymore because all the mistakes stick out to me like they have spotlights shining directly on them)

this was fun!! i’m gonna do an open tag because i just started my fall semester and brain tired. i know sometimes people see open tags and assume the op didn’t really mean it but I MEAN IT, PLEASE DO THIS AND TAG ME!!!!! YES YOU READING THIS

#tag games #long post #birl talks

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ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 4 years

Text

Between Bars (Spencer Reid x OC)

Summary: Spencer is wrongfully arrested for murder and placed in Millburn Correctional Facility awaiting trial. While he attempts to survive until his friends can prove his innocence, his cellmate Oscar has an unexpected effect on Spencer during their time inside together.

AN: Thank you to @april-14-blog, @zhuzhubii, and @imagining-in-the-margins for your unwavering attention and support while writing this.

I’m writing another post-prison Spencer fic but idk when it’s coming out. I’m still caring for my dad and prepping for my nan’s funeral.

To the anon who asked for an Emily Prentiss x Trans!Male reader smut, it’s in the works I promise!!

Word count: 11k words

Content warning: Usual criminal minds violence, character death, spoilers for season 12, threats of violence, stabbing, PTSD, mentions of battery, mentions of panic attacks. Let me know if I’ve missed anything.

Masterlist // AO3 Link

“My last roommate got shanked.”

Spencer struggled for a second to keep his composure. The cell door slid shut with a loud buzzer and a clank of hollow metal.

His cellmate, in that identical grey jumpsuit, was tucked up on the bottom bunk with a book in one hand and a green crayon in the other. He was underlining something. Once he was done, his eye lifted off the page. They just as devoid of emotion as his opener was. That scared Spencer more, that this man had clearly spent a long time in here being dehumanised to the point where he held about the emotional range of a mannequin.

But at least he wasn’t violent. Yet.

Spencer approached the foot of his bed. His hands, one of them still sore from the cut on the palm, placed his belongings there. A tremble ran through them when his cellmate moved out of his line of sight; the sudden thought of being stabbed through the underside of his bunk kept him standing for now.

“I’m not gonna shank you.”

Spencer’s shoulders squared, “Ok.”

“Name’s Oscar.”

“Spencer Reid.”

“Welcome to hell, Spencer Reid.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

His chore was laundry. It was somewhere without sharp objects, which meant inmates brought their own. Spencer was doing his best to walk the balance between standing his ground and not making himself a target. But apparently there was no such line to follow and no help from his cellmate, sifting through his own cart of laundry on the other side of the room.

That was until the inmates began taunting Spencer over his belongings.

“Excuse me.”

The crowd immediately parted to make way for Oscar, whose unflinching gaze pushed them further back.

“Thank you,” he said in the same empty tone. His very deliberate stare landed on Spencer as he passed and collected a pile of towels from the table at the room’s centre. The group around them dispersed and remained so even as Oscar returned to his station.

Oscar’s hands weren’t shaking before then. Now, certainly, as he stuffed bedsheets into the giant machine, a tremble ran through his arms and stuck in his wrists.

Spencer didn’t comment, not even that evening as he climbed onto his bunk, his back pressed hard against the wall. His knees pulled close acted as a desk for his journal. His pen scribbled away long after lights out, putting down his thoughts, his innocence, trapping his worries onto the paper. It was too long until his next evaluation. His notebook was his only confidant now.

A creak beneath him stilled his hand, and he felt himself freeze as the shadow of Oscar rose up from his bunk. One of his hands was behind his back. Spencer’s feet dug into the mattress and forced him hard against the concrete. His eyes flinched shut as Oscar brought his hand out. But they opened as soon as they were closed and they were met with surprise.

In Oscar’s palm sat a red crayon.

“You’ll wanna swap to this,” He said with such a softness that Spencer spent the next ten seconds processing it. His incessant blinking did nothing to clear up what was happening.

Eventually he said an equally quiet voice, “Why?”

Oscar’s shoulders shrugged an inch, the tension he held in them inflexible, “Worst you can get from this is a bruise.”

Slowly, Spencer accepted the crayon with his left hand and rolled the pencil around in the right. “What should I do with this?”

“Hide it.” And Oscar disappeared from view.

Spencer ran his finger over the tip of the crayon before he dragged it across the paper. It would suffice for now. Maybe he could ask one of his friends to send some his way in their next letter. If they weren’t too busy trying to solve his case.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

JJ’s presence was the most welcomed part of Spencer’s life here. But he almost hated it.

Opposite him, always several inches between them as well as a divider, JJ holding up one of Henry’s drawings but unable to hand it over to him, it drove him insane. The constant reminders on the walls – and often barked by guards – not to touch coated their conversation. JJ didn’t ask about the bruises from his most recent beating. She answered Spencer’s queries, updating him on his case.

Spencer tried very hard not to sound so eager about getting out. His hopes were already dashed to pieces; the fragments were just holding on. He needed that hope to survive but if it grew too strong, it would destroy him.

For half a second, his attention was drawn out of the goodbye to see Oscar nearby. He was standing before another visitor’s table and a young woman who had the same nose as him on the other side.

He missed JJ’s hugs. He longed for one long after she had disappeared from view, shuffling along with the rest of them towards the refectory.

A commotion erupted up ahead. Spencer watched with masked reverence and the rest of the line as Oscar remained unflinching in the volume of the guard’s shouting. Even when he got right up in Oscar’s face, Oscar was stoic as spittle sprayed across his face. Moment after the guard walked away, Oscar wiped his face clean, a terrifyingly neutral expression held together.

Once lunch was done, Spencer re-joined with his new friend Luis in the laundry room, who was still not over Spencer’s injuries. There was something else that Spencer wanted to talk about.

“Do you know much about…” Spencer dropped his voice to barely a whisper, “Oscar?”

Luis looked at Oscar with the subtlety of an elephant seal then back to Spencer to deliver his answer, “He’s gone after people in the prison, but nothing ever gets tied to him.”

And Luis proved his point when Oscar pressed his hands against the stab wound in Luis’ neck, a futile attempt to save his life after Frazier and Duerson’s failed recruiting of Spencer. Oscar fled the scene without consequence, leaving Spencer in the pool of blood, and he never once tripped on his alibi or took off his armour. Not even when Spencer spoke at him about it before lights out.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

But Spencer found a chink in the armour.

Oscar’s sleeping problems were apparent throughout the night. If his offering of a crayon earlier hadn’t been enough evidence, the yawning and tossing about the bottom bunk. Spencer knew why Oscar was awake too. He wasn’t the type to stay awake to ensure his continued survival. Insomnia was a symptom that Spencer was starting to show too. He had been struggling to rest while he gathered the aforementioned evidence. For some reason, it brought him a slither of comfort, because it made Oscar more human.

Another was the letters he had in his pillow case – the most obvious place to hide something, therefore the least obvious? Reverse psychology aside, some nights featured the rustling of paper

Work in the laundry room continued as if there wasn’t a man murdered in it just days before. Oscar was reinforcing the contrast between yesterday and now with a faint hum. He was clearly a little more comfortable since it was just him and Spencer in the room.

Spencer’s mind pulled up Howl’s Moving Castle which he watched with Penelope. Oh, Penelope. With her bright colours and optimism. It was not a film he pictured Oscar to be a fan of. But he hardly knew him, and he wanted to.

“What song is that?”

Oscar shrugged. A huff forced itself out of his nose. “Don’t remember.”

“It sounds nice.”

He huffed again, clearly closing the conversation. Spencer counted in items he tossed into the machine, flinching still at the marks on the bedsheets. His eye avoided them but landed on the dark patch of concrete where Luis had bled out.

“Oscar, why did you defend me last week?” Spencer asked.

“I don’t know.” The irritable edge in his voice prevailed the more he spoke, “But you owe me so consider this: don’t be a mule for them.”

It was an almost anger that Spencer felt at this request. Surely Oscar would understand, of all people, after being in here that:

“They’ll kill me if I don’t.”

Oscar sighed and turned his back to Spencer, no longer humming. Spencer felt a twang in his gut pluck away at his rage. But he also felt satisfaction in the fact that he had gotten Oscar to crack again. Not in a malevolent way, he felt like he was getting Oscar to open up more and more.

“I’m doing what I need to survive,” Spencer added. For his sake, maybe, but he knew it was a little more reassurance for Oscar.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

“I am innocent.”

“You’re gonna get killed if you keep saying that so loud.”

Spencer stopped speaking, but he kept moving about the floor space of the cell. The worst part was the walk up to the bars. But, with his notebook confiscated, he had no other outlet and he made sure that Oscar knew this as well.

“It keeps me grounded, reminds me of who I am.”

Oscar didn’t say anything about Spencer’s incessant pacing, simply turning a page in his new book, “That must be nice.”

With a deep breath of stale prison air, Spencer’s speed grew erratic until he very nearly kicked at the bars in frustration. He stopped himself just as the instruction reached the surgery scars on his knee. It stung as he jumped up into his bunk and squeezed his knees to his chest, his arms shaking with the pressure he put on them.

“How many years do you have to go?” He said quietly.

“Half a year until an appeal, six years if I serve the rest of my sentence. You?”

“My trial has been postponed. I was offered a plea deal. But-” Spencer stopped to swallow, a pitiful attempt against the absolute Sahara that was his mouth “- But I didn’t do it.”

His hand pushed the heel of his palm into his eye. The other screwed itself shut as his mind zeroed in on his actions. When Spencer’s hand lifted away, Oscar was standing up in front of him. His white shirt was on show, the top half of his jumpsuit rolled down with the arms tied around his waist. He was stretching his arms up, and his head was tilted a few inches to the left as he watched Spencer with a blank face.

No, not blank.

Open.

Then his stoicism clouded over and Oscar dropped his arms. “Nice rehearsal for the jury.”

Spencer’s irritation became inflamed, “That kind of attitude might get you a badge of honour here-”

“This kind of attitude,” Oscar interrupted, and immediately Spencer regretted his words, “Has helped me survive here. I suggest you stop running your mouth if you wanna do the same.”

The burst of anger fizzled out fast like a firework, and Spencer watched Oscar disappear out of sight with a dull thud on his mattress. But before he could, Spencer had noticed that Oscar’s hands were shaking again, just like he hadn’t seen since the fight in the laundry room – the first one.

Spencer’s hands gripping his shins, he worried that he had lost another… friend? Ally? He didn’t really know what to use as a description for their relationship but Spencer knew what he wanted. Least of all, he wanted Oscar to be upset with him.

“Oscar?”

Nothing. Spencer slipped off the bed and pressed his back against the wall, sinking down until he was on the ground. His eyes were on Oscar, who was staring without seeing Spencer opposite him. Nevertheless, Spencer stayed in his sight and asked a tentative question.

“What’s the first thing you want to do when you get out?”

Oscar blinked and his gaze shifted a millimetre to Spencer and his peace offering. Then Spencer saw it. A quiver of Oscar’s bottom lip, then it shifted and Spencer noticed that Oscar was biting the inside to stop his reaction taking over any more of himself.

When his mouth opened, it released a sigh before he spoke. “Hug my mom.”

Spencer nodded, the stuffiness of his throat returning as he fought to keep back tears, “Me too.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

It was an attempt to get Frazier and Duerson off Spencer’s back. Maybe to stop him from taking the drugs himself. The temptation was certainly lingering stronger, with the promise of a temporary respite.

But now the prison was locked down. Shaw, along with four other inmates, were isolated in the infirmary. These were far from innocent men but God that didn’t mean what he had done was right.

He’d done it to survive, but it was still all his fault.

“What’s up with you?”

The gate to their cell sliding shut behind Oscar. He stared at Spencer sat in the bottom bunk, his head in his hands. Footsteps echoed down the corridor before another buzzer and another gate opened then shut again. They were far from alone, the concrete providing an illusion that there wasn’t an endless tunnel with two men per cage.

“Spencer.”

He stood up, dropping the grip from his hair. His ears tuned into the noise from other prisoners. What he wouldn’t give for some silence right now.

“The poisonings were my fault.”

All air sucked from Spencer’s lungs as Oscar was suddenly upon him. He was smacked against the wall, Oscar’s hand over his mouth, his forearm pinning him into place. Spencer let out a cross between a gulp and a sob, caught into his throat as Oscar harshly shushed him. Spencer’s eyes looked around Oscar terrified, he struggled against him.

Oscar’s voice rasped with a spitting disgust, “You’re really fucking stupid!”

And he slammed his weight against Spencer again, his breathing heavy, his pupils dilated, “Don’t you fucking dare repeat that to anyone.”

Spencer’s head knocked against the resolute wall when Oscar shoved him once more, stepping back and creating distance between them. With the ache at the back of his skull, Spencer stared dazedly at his cellmate.

Oscar’s voice matched his haggard appearance when he said, “You’re a dead man, Spencer.”

The intimacy of his name striking right at his heart, Spencer worried that he would join Oscar in tears. But there was no time; a guard rattled his baton against the bars.

“What’s going on in there?” He bellowed into the cell.

Oscar clenched his jaw, “Nothing.”

Then he reclaimed his bunk and faced the wall.

“Into bed, inmate!”

Sparing a glance to the vulnerable position Oscar was laying in, unable to receive the look of gratitude, Spencer got into his bunk. The silence he wished for enveloped him and he longed for it to vanish.

He pressed his palm against his lips. It wasn’t the same as when Oscar did it.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

His second meeting with Dr. Tara Lewis revealed that Spencer had manufactured his own memory and that he had been coerced. But the BAU needed proof of his innocence, and Spencer resumed his waiting game in the yard.

Oscar was taking a new route around the edge of the wire fencing as opposed to spending his free time in the gym. His shoes scuffed in the dirt, no doubt rubbing a blister into his heel (based on his gait), and his step weaved around the groups to avoid interacting with anyone. Wordlessly, Spencer joined him. Oscar looked at him but didn’t speak.

Spencer’s session with Tara had brought forward a question he had considered asking before. Tara had spoken about his mother, how life was before prison. Spencer missed being known, knowing someone. The rawness of that need hung off his frame with his jumpsuit. Oscar was probably still pissed off with him. But God, Spencer needed to cease this withdrawal from human contact more than anything.

“What did you do, Oscar?” He asked under his breath, “To get into prison?”

“I knew a guy; he was the worst kind of person to get caught up with. He did some things to me. So I beat him up, and I cut his pecker off.”

It all sounded so very rehearsed, and Spencer wondered if Oscar had been planning what to say since they first met. The two men continued to walk in step until eventually Oscar broke the silence.

“Yours isn’t on my to-do list.” The left corner of his mouth twitched as he spoke

Spencer lifted his stare from Oscar’s mouth, hoping the heat around them would mask his blush, “Did he die?”

“No,” Oscar ironed his lips back into a straight line, “Unfortunately.”

“You don’t regret it.”

“No.”

“Thank you for not telling the guard what I did.”

“What did I say about repeating it?”

Spencer pressed his chin into his chest, forcing his mouth shut. It naturally deflected the glares that were aimed in his direction from other prisoners as he and Oscar sat down at an empty table.

“It seems I only give you grief.”

But Spencer’s pity was cut short by that touch of a smile on Oscar’s face returning, “Your company somewhat makes up for it.”

The distractions ended. Spencer was once again aware that there was very little he could do in this place. He restrained his yearning to hold Oscar’s hand across the table, to feel his tender palm again, until he was back in his bunk with an entire night to think about what it might be like in a situation where Oscar wasn’t threatening him into silence.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

It was going to be another sleepless night.

Spencer reached his arm out of his foetal position and over the edge of his bunk. Oscar was likely still awake; Spencer was hoping that Oscar would ask him about what was up, like he usually did. Like he already had after Spencer’s mother had visited with her new care assistant.

As he waited, Spencer sniffed back his tears. He didn’t want anyone to see him cry, even if tears were supposed to be good for the skin – God knows his skin needed it after all that Dial soap. The red eyes were already hard enough to hide without the addition of damp cheeks. Grief weighed down his eyelids, but fear kept opening them – just in case.

Then five calloused fingertips touched the back of his hand. Spencer gripped the air, his wrist bringing his hand an inch in. But as the fingertips spread across his skin, he allowed them to continue. Oscar’s mattress groaned below him and his fingers linked with Spencer’s. The thumb wrapped around to press into Spencer’s palm.

Spencer almost whined when Oscar snatched his hand away, but a split second later his stomach dropped at the sound of a clatter down the hall.

Minutes passed like hours before the bottom bunk let out a familiar creak of Oscar rising from it. He rested his forearms against Spencer’s mattress, right beside Spencer’s outstretched arm. Goosebumps rose and the hairs stood on end, coaxing Oscar closer.

With a quick glance at the bars, Oscar whispered, “Your friends will get you out. They’ll help your mom.”

Spencer sniffed, “What happened to being a dead man?”

“I don’t think you – or your friends - are going to let that happen.”

“What about you?”

“I guess I could fall under ‘ally’ for once.”

“What if I wanted you to be something else?” Spencer’s arm shifted and his hand brushed their knuckles against Oscar’s stubbly cheek.

Oscar hinted at tilting his head against him, and Spencer couldn’t help but press a little firmer as Oscar said, “You should sleep.”

“I can’t.”

Oscar’s finger stretching out to brush the crook of Spencer’s elbow, “Me neither.”

Nevertheless, Oscar let Spencer go and got back down into his bunk just moments later.

Both men pretended to sleep until the fantasy became real. The whole time, Spencer was thinking about how hearing faith in his team from someone who had never met them – or even displayed an ounce of hope within his entire relationship with him – meant so much.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Spencer had a new wall to force his back against. His left leg was not in a state to keep him taut against it, the throbbing ache a poor disturbance from his thoughts. Time, time, all he had was time to think and do nothing else.

About how his occupation in the government was leaked to what felt like the entire prison population.

How the note with the promise of invading solitary confinement lay screwed up by the door.

How Shaw had threatened him before bawling like a baby when the guards tackled him for stabbing Spencer.

How Oscar, with his jaw slack and eyes glassy, was outlined in Spencer’s blurring vision.

Oh, Oscar. Shoved back by inmates in the scuffle before he disappeared from view. He was only there because Shaw had made the first move. Spencer had seen Oscar reach into his pocket as he crept behind Shaw. No regard for his own safety. That was when Spencer grabbed Shaw’s hand and manipulated it into plunging his shiv into his leg and arm.

The night before, Oscar had been quiet, and Spencer figured that he had learnt that Spencer was an FBI agent. No chat before bed, Oscar just curled up under his blanket and read until lights out.

Spencer was patient. He waited long into the night before bringing out his toothbrush. There was no time for resting now; he scrapped the end of the brush against the edge of the bunk frame. Flakes of plastic snowed down onto the concrete floor, but he didn’t get out to sweep them beneath the beds just yet. That was a job for the morning – if it came.

Suddenly Oscar popped into his field of view.

“It’s better if you do it like this,” He said, taking Spencer’s hand in his and demonstrating the direction with which to carve his shiv, “And make sure you – never mind.”

“What?”

“Forget it. You’re a fed. They probably trained you with this shit.”

He took himself away and Spencer swallowed hard, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“I’m not. Means you’re learning to protect yourself. I’m more grateful for that.”

Spencer’s hand still tingled from the way Oscar held it. The simplest of touches grounded him, and it was almost as if Oscar knew that. When they were called to lunch by the alarm, filing out of the laundry room, Oscar had gone out of his way to walk by Spencer and brush their hands together. Not a single break in his stride, the touch was brief but it breathed a sigh of courage into Spencer’s lungs and he went into the refectory calmer.

He bit the inside of his cheek, willing away the stinging of tears with his head leaning back against the wall.

His palms flattened against his legs as he heard the key turn in the door. His eyes watched it creak open, revealing a guard

“Get up.”

Wincing, Spencer moved off the pathetic excuse for a bed, “Where am I going?”

No answer.

Spencer shuffled through the hallway with dread weighing each step down. The last fragment of hope was waning, but he clung to it as he was shoved into an empty room. Even as the guard closed the door behind him and his ever-vigilant eye was stuck on the glass of the window, Spencer held that hope close as he waited for someone to come in. While not necessarily a believer, he called to anyone - who might hear a sinner’s prayer - that he could touch Oscar once more before he was killed.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

It had been a long time since Spencer had sat on this side of the table. On the job, visiting a suspect or informant in a case, but now his entire perspective had shifted.

He wondered if any of the guards recognised him now that he had a suit, a visitor’s badge, and a few extra pounds around his middle.

An instinct, he flinched at the buzzer. The memory had tormented him for weeks and hearing it fresh and raw against his eardrums was worse. Steps sloped into the room in a dull out-of-sync march. The prisoners found their allotted tables one by one, some with enthusiasm and others without.

Oscar dragged the chair across the floor before taking his place opposite Spencer.

“Hello.”

Spencer was completely torn between smiling at his presence – his voice – and keeping a composure so as not to draw attention from other prisoners. “Hello.”

Oscar wrapped his arms in each other, elbows pointed on the table, “Did you get to hug your mom?”

It was hard to forget the grip on Diana’s frail body, the relief seeping through Spencer’s body at her safe recovery.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Good. I’m glad she’s ok.”

“She’s in a facility now, being taken care of full time. Did you get my letters?”

“I did, thank you. And did you get mine?”

“Yes. How is your new cellmate?”

“Some dipshit in for possession. Nothing to worry about.”

Oscar’s fingers tapped on the table, and Spencer could see them trembling still. He nodded; his mouth pressed into a line. He couldn’t think of what else to say despite his many rehearsals beforehand. It felt wrong to talk about being out of prison, like dangling a bit of bacon in front of a dog before popping it into one’s mouth.

So he went straight for the jugular, “I’m getting you out, Oscar.”

Oscar frowned, looking almost offended. “Don’t say that.”

But Spencer continued, “I’ve spoken with your lawyer, Zoe; she’s got all this stuff ready for your appeal.”

“Spencer.”

“Your family completely support what we’re doing. I’ve spoken to them over the phone.”

“They wanna meet with me and your lawyer, properly coordinate. We can do this!”

“Spencer, stop!”

Said person stopped relaying his grand plans for the future. Oscar had barely raised his voice but he caught the attention of the nearby guards, already reaching for their belts. Oscar’s nostrils flared as he exhaled, his eyes not even crossing the threshold that separated him from Spencer.

His voice caught in his throat, “Stop it now. Don’t give me hope.”

Spencer blinked. A second time, a third, then he frowned right back at Oscar bewildered.

“Why won’t you let me fight for you?”

He didn’t get an answer immediately, so he kept talking.

“You fought for me, Oscar. You kept me alive in here. Let me do the same, get you out. You can’t stay here!”

It started subtle. But Spencer saw Oscar shaking his head at his words. He refused Spencer any more eye contact, not even when Spencer begged Oscar to look at him so that they could talk more about the upcoming appeal.

The buzzer sounded again and Spencer began to panic as Oscar rose from his seat. No way was their time up already. An urge to reach across, grab Oscar’s hand, make him stay, shot through him. It only stopped because he didn’t want some desperate grab to be the last touch between them. He tried to call after him, but his voice stuck in his throat at the sight of a baton being used to force Oscar into the queue.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Spencer had walked the paths of the bullpen thrice now: once to get coffee, second to “get the right form”, and the last time he didn’t say why to his curious colleagues. Clearly none of those were the true reason but they left him alone. That was their problem. They never spoke to each other about what was wrong until it was too late.

The second his phone rang, he lunged for it. His slim fingers scrabbled to slide across the answer button and bring it up to his ear.

“Hello!” Instantaneously, his shoulders slumped and he pinched the bridge of his nose, “Sorry for shouting. Look, I’m waiting on an important call, can I ring you back?”

Before the caller had time to respond, Spencer slammed the phone face down and began his route again, leaving it on the desk so that he wasn’t constantly checking the screen.

“Have you ever seen him so attached to a piece of technology?” Luke grinned at JJ.

“Never.”

“This con must be something.”

The phone went off again when Spencer was getting another mug of coffee. Its ringtone was loud but not loud enough to reach the break room.

Simmons raised his voice ever so slightly, “Spencer! Phone!”

A ceramic clashed with a sideboard, and Spencer appeared, his hip clipping Luke’s desk on the way over. In his frenzy, he found the wherewithal to check the caller ID before he answered, “Tony?”

Spencer had already begun powerwalking out of the bullpen, but he stopped when he heard a cry from Eliza in the background.

His friends and co-workers watched his expression falter from focus to frustration.

“I’m sorry.” His voice failed him, clearing it, “I’m sorry, Tony, for you and your family. Can I call you back?”

This time, he waited for confirmation and he stayed on the phone for half a minute longer to reassure the Dunnagan family on the other end that he would not give up. Once the call dropped, the phone did too – against the desk. Spencer folded his arms in on himself. His fingers were bent into claws, digging into the creases of his elbows. Upon realising what they were doing, he covered his face as if to weep, but there were no tears.

“Spencer.” JJ touched his shoulder

“The appeal didn’t even have the chance to be unsuccessful,” He dragged his hands across his face into prayer, “Oscar cancelled the hearing this morning without telling us.”

He swallowed back the lump in his throat, “I don’t think I can be alone right now. Can I stay at yours and Will’s tonight?”

“Of course,” JJ’s hand smoothed out a wrinkle on his suit jacket.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Upon entering the attorney’s office, Spencer was embraced by Dakota. Eliza kissed both his cheeks, Tony shook his hand, and Zoe gestured for him to sit in the final empty chair.

Together, they discussed the plan for the appeal. It was to be fool proof. There was the added benefit of a recent sessions with a therapist; Spencer was still willing to go and talk about how Oscar had saved his life in prison. But Spencer was also fighting this disgusting urge to say that “none of that matters because an appeal panel won’t see him at all if Oscar keeps withdrawing”. He kept pushing it down to simmer in his stomach, away from his vocal chords.

He was almost glad when his phone began ringing, “Excuse me, it’s my boss.” Stepping out of the office, Spencer narrowly avoided another lawyer walking along the stripes of the carpet. “Hey Emily.”

“Hey. I know it’s one of your days off. I just wanted to see how you’re doing?”

“We’re just going over Oscar’s appeal.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Wow, he really walked into that one.

“I just keep thinking about how he sabotaged himself. I mean, doesn’t he want to get out? Why doesn’t he want to get out and be with me?!” Spencer swallowed back the lump in his throat, “And I know none of the team approve of him.”

“Spencer,” Emily had her parent voice on. An expert voice for someone who didn’t even have kids yet.

But Spencer just carried on in spite of it, “He’s a convicted batterer, not exactly the best option for a boyfriend and especially for an FBI agent, but do any of you know why he did it?”

His agitation was muzzled when Zoe poked her head around the door and Spencer softened his tone to apologise, to assure he would be back inside shortly. He waited until the door closed before he spoke again.

“Emily, Oscar is the only person who knows what I’m going through right now. He’s a good man, I truly believe that, or else he wouldn’t have helped me. And I need him to get out. I can’t stand knowing he’s in there for why he did what he did. Knowing he’s not getting the help he needs.”

It was then that Spencer realised, even as they were interrupted, that Emily had been waiting patiently for him to finish. She was now letting his words sit between the phone lines, likely mulling over what to say next. Spencer really fucking hated waiting.

Thankfully his patience did not need to wear itself thin, this one time:

“I do know why he did it. I had Garcia pull up his file when you went to visit him for the first time. Spencer, I’m glad this man has you on his side. Let me know how the meeting goes.”

“Thanks, Emily.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

As Oscar placed himself down opposite Spencer, he flinched in the plastic chair. Spencer fought his own wince at the sight of so much swelling, so many bruises, so many cuts, littering his face.

But he gave the tiniest of smiles in spite of the state of his face, “How did you know, Spencer?”

“Your mom told me. She’s a lovely woman.” Spencer flexed his fingers before linking them again, “I wish I had a proper gift to give you, but I was scared the guards would just confiscate it.”

“The card was more than enough.”

A bright blue card with balloons on it was tucked into Oscar’s pillowcase. Inside were as many notes on what he needed to say for the appeal as Spencer could fit around the “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” already printed into the card.

“I forwarded them and the rest onto your lawyer. She should go through it with you.”

Oscar’s smile tainted by hesitation as it crawled off his face, “I don’t know.”

Spencer could see him withdrawing, hiding in his jumpsuit. But even then, Oscar’s expression wore his melancholy like a veil. It blocked out any semblance of neutrality from when he had first met Spencer. The state his protection was in, he wouldn’t last long at all.

“Before prison, I was really sensitive to touch, germs. But now-” Spencer stopped, his voice so quiet he nearly couldn’t hear himself as he finished, “I can’t wait to touch you again.”

Oscar shivered. His eyes screwed shut as if to protect him from what was being said. But Spencer persisted.

“What would you like to do for your birthday? If you could do anything.”

“Picnic in the park,” said Oscar after some thought, “Uh, a real big Cuban sandwich, with roast pork, Swiss cheese, lettuce, pickles, and ham. And chocolate covered strawberries.”

“What, in the sandwich as well?”

“Yes.” Oscar rolled his eyes, misty and threatening to spill, and Spencer felt a rush of panic. More emotion was only good for him. Oscar, left behind in his cell, this could be disastrous. But he couldn’t get enough of it, and he selfishly persevered.

“When you get out, would you let me hold you?” The buzzer went off, but Spencer spoke over it as he stood, “Please, Oscar, consider this appeal.”

“Ok, Spencer.”

From his place at the table, Spencer watched Oscar try to cover his emotions, but there was still a glimmer of a tear retreating as he joined the queue of prisoners heading back to their cells.

Before he stepped out the prison, Spencer slipped his sunglasses back over his eyes to hide how red they were from the guards.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Stood in the shallow shade of Eliza’s range rover, Spencer switched the bouquet of sage flowers from one hand to the other. Dakota had suggested them; she said her brother liked the colour most. Spencer wiped his free hand down his trousers before checking the time. He’d done that four times already. He hoped no one was giving him odd looks from the other side of the fence.

Utter relief was not usually how he would describe hearing that buzzer. But for the first and last time, he did feel a sense of respite knowing he would likely never be coming back here for such a taxing visit.

Then he remembered what that sound actually meant. His back straightened right up; his hand brushed through his hair and checked his breath once more.

Tony led the way out of the prison. He was clearly trying to remain casual but the glee seeping out of his body was just palpable. He had an arm around Dakota, kissing his daughter’s head so vigorously that her half-up hair was messed up. Clearly Dakota didn’t care though. Her hand was behind her and she turned to see the person holding it.

It was Oscar, arm looped with Eliza who clung to him like a crutch. Their eyes matched each other, shining brown like horse chestnuts.

Spencer found that he could no longer look away from Oscar. A breeze rustled through his hair. His face was alive with tear tracks and a grin that ached on his rosy cheeks. An old suit, one clearly meant for court and court alone, slouched on his shoulders. But for that short moment where he breathed fresh air and leaned his head on his mother’s, there was no weight to him.

Then Oscar found Spencer, fidgeting with his tie and his grip slacking on the bouquet, and all the emotion he had repressed for five years in prison custody were exploding into a supernova.

Oscar forgot Eliza’s arm, dashing around his family to run for Spencer. Spencer found himself matching the pace and the destination. His feet carried him quick until he and Oscar collided. A fierce hug crushed them. Oscar’s hand was constantly adjusting its grip on the back of Spencer’s head, and Spencer’s free one fisted at Oscar’s suit jacket, trying to bury themselves in his ribcage. Neither missed Oscar’s shaking, his sobbing. Spencer curled into Oscar, wrestling with his instinct to pull away. Lindsey and Cat, they ruined so much for him already; they couldn’t take Oscar too.

When they heard the footsteps of the Dunnagan family stop nearby, the men drew apart – only about a foot or so. Oscar’s cheeks were wet behind his wide smile and Spencer saw that one of his front two teeth was a little crooked.

Spencer then presented his gift in the small space between them, “For you.”

Oscar gently clasped the bouquet on the white ribbon that wrapped around the stalks, “No one’s got me flowers before.”

Spencer then vowed to buy flowers as often as he could for Oscar, and especially sage. He looked so good with purple.

The ride to Danny’s Food Truck had Oscar sat in the little middle seat, his sister on one side, Spencer on the other, and he held both their hands. His bouquet was cradled in his lap. The wet ends of the stalks dripped twice onto his suit trousers, just before his bouncing knee.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Once again, Spencer had lost himself in his work. When he was interrupted just an hour before, Oscar was there. He had waved a hand into Spencer’s peripherals but Spencer still jumped at it. He hated that his skittish behaviour was still prevalent, returning just as Oscar had started appearing in his personal life. In his apartment.

“Sorry, Spencer,” Oscar had said in a gravelly voice, “I just wanted to ask if you were ok with Randy’s for dinner tonight.”

It was two hours before they were due to have dinner.

“Of course, it’s your turn.”

“How’s the work going?”

“It’s good,” and Spencer showed him the notes he’d written so far.

Oscar had taken them into his hands and read over them. Meanwhile Spencer watched his micro expressions. The huff of air through his nose, the corners of his mouth wriggling about as if to smile before flattening themselves out, all seemed positive as Oscar offered the papers back.

“Nice joke!”

“Right, joke…” Spencer accepted his notes back, “Where?”

“There,” Oscar leant over Spencer’s shoulder and tapped the second line of the first paragraph. Spencer noted that he smelt nice. So much better now the Dial soap was out of their care routine.

And it was now that Spencer found himself missing that smell. It was a nice distraction. Burying himself in his work was not a good distraction anymore.

He stood away from his desk and took his mug out to the kitchen sink. Despite trying not to look at the pieces of a vase half-wrapped in newspaper, Oscar’s wailing at the very start of their day together punctured its way into Spencer’s head. One particular thought posited that Spencer should keep one of those jagged pieces – just in case. Just in case of what?

Shaking his head, Spencer went and found the source of his chills: his living room windows were wide open, the curtains lifting gracefully in the breeze. Rain pattered against the world outside, some of its drops reaching the carpet. The smell of the rain was light in the room. It was almost drowned out by the sound.

He found Oscar passed out on the couch, his bare feet poking out from under the throw. His head was resting between his folded arms, one hand under the pillow. His headphones askew and playing “The Flower Garden (Extended Version)” by Joe Hisaishi.

Kneeling next to Oscar, Spencer touched his arm, “Do you want me to order for you?”

Oscar nodded, stretched out, then promptly fell back asleep. He would have trouble later tonight. But Spencer was glad that he finally found some respite. His seemingly endless apologies for breaking the bowl were over.

That was where the good news ended though. Spencer looked closer at Oscar’s hand, now unmasked. A medium piece from the broken vase rested in his loose grip. After some moments deliberating, Spencer eased it out and placed it with the rest of the vase. Then he went to his phone and dialled.

“Hey JJ. I hope it’s not too late, but,” Spencer tapped his nails against the plastic handset, “Would you mind coming over? Oscar is here, but I don’t know if he’s ready to help me through this.”

He smiled at the flowers he’d bought that day standing awkwardly in a jug before hanging up. He and Oscar really should move in together. Or at least he should invest in a sofa bed.

Twenty minutes later, there was a knock at the front door, and Oscar was up on his feet. The sofa’s throw clung to him.

“I invited someone over,” Spencer said quickly, “Sorry I should have told you, but I didn’t want to wake you again. Do you want to wait in my room?”

Oscar stayed in place and shook his head, so Spencer went ahead to open his front door.

Two days apart was far too long. JJ embraced Spencer tight, rubbing his back as she rested her chin on his shoulder. She gave the best hugs. Maybe rivalled by Oscar, but Spencer would never tell her that.

“Can I get you anything to drink?”

“A coffee would be great,” JJ shrugged off her jacket

He pivoted in a half circle, “Oscar?”

“No, I’m good, thank you.”

Spencer wasn’t really sure what happened in his absence – besides his stomach turning itself over and over. When he returned with two mugs, the only information he could garner was that Oscar had dropped the throw back onto the sofa that stood between them and JJ had inched a little closer

“Here!”

Oscar twitched at Spencer’s loud entrance, visibly relaxing by the time JJ had her mug of coffee in her hands. He adjusted the throw until it was back to its original position then crept towards the door.

Spencer frowned, ruining the quiet exit as he said, “Where are you going?”

Oscar thumbed in his direction of travel. “Bathroom.”

“Oh,” Spencer felt his cheeks heat up, “Good luck.”

He saw Oscar rolling his eyes but there was a flash of a grin and a tiny wave to JJ before he disappeared from view. Spencer’s stomach steadied itself, busying itself with sloshing his coffee about instead. His grip around his mug adjusted as he turned to JJ.

“He’s not what I was expecting,” JJ said. There was nothing malicious in her tone. In fact, if there was anything, she seemed pleased that Oscar had subverted her anticipations.

Spencer nodded, his mouth turning up a little smile, “That’s what I thought too. Thank you for coming so quickly.”

“It’s ok, anytime.”

They sat together on the sofa, leaving the armchair free just in case Oscar wanted to join them again.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Moving in together was supposed to solve everything.

Neither Spencer nor Oscar explicitly said or thought that. But when their triggers persisted and their behaviour shifted dramatically still, they couldn’t help but be a little disappointed.

Spencer had another nightmare last night and woke Oscar up at around half past three. They couldn’t cuddle each other, but their hands would brush and the two men would avoid looking at the matching scars on their thighs – and Oscar’s on his stomach, Spencer’s on his arm.

“Would you have killed Shaw, if I hadn’t done anything?”

“Yes.” “Does that scare you?”

In the dark, he could hear the fear in Oscar’s voice

“No, because I think I would have done the same.”

Carried on as if he hadn’t heard, still scared of himself, “I wouldn’t do something like that now.”

Oscar spent the rest of the night on the couch, so he wouldn’t touch Spencer in his sleep. Words of his therapist spun around his head: “Prison twists and warps people until they’re worse than they were before. We can’t speak now for what we would have done then.”

It was a quiet day as a result of the restless night. Quiet was nice sometimes; it was something new for them to experience together. Spencer and Oscar had breakfast together, washed and dressed, before they went down to the communal laundrette together. Washing and drying clothes was too big a task to do alone, even now, and Oscar needed his shirt to be clean for his job interview in a few days. The nightmare Spencer had faded into the background as he tried to focus on something else.

Without realising, he said aloud to Oscar, “I wanted to kiss you in the laundry room.”

Oscar stopped stretching his damp pyjama shirt out, and it was clear that he had joined Spencer in reminiscing about their job in prison.

“Which time?”

“Every time.”

Spencer watched as Oscar let out a quiet “heh”, a shy smile playing on his lips. But Oscar cut it off quick before either of them could enjoy it, and he reset his expression to blank. The silence that followed swallowed them both whole.

“Oscar,” Spencer moved next to Oscar and, in clear view, touched him on the arm, “It’s ok. You can laugh.”

“I know.”

“You can smile if you want to,”

“I can smile,” Oscar repeated, his words grounding him next to Spencer, his hands flattened atop the dryer as it rumbled into life. His lungs took in a few more breaths to spread a thin layer of calm over him and he looked back at Spencer, “I can also kiss you if I want to, if you want.”

Checking the laundrette door, Spencer’s hand moved from Oscar’s arm to Oscar’s cheek, guiding him home. Their lips met in messy perfection. Short and sweet, with a sigh shared between them, Spencer was pleased to see the smile returned to Oscar by the time they separated. As tense as Oscar felt in his arms, even with the smile soon fading, Spencer could feel the tiniest slack in his shoulders now.

With the most burdensome chore out of the way, the two men returned to the flat. Spencer helped Oscar compose another covering letter to ship off to another job opening before they called Oscar’s family for lunch.

Facetiming was always a trip when they were calling the Dunnagans. Tony had a similar understanding of “technology” as Spencer, so when he answered the call, it was a close up of a nostril or a frowning muted face that greeted Oscar and Spencer on the laptop screen. Eventually Eliza saved them from an eternal farce. She brought them into her kitchen, bringing Dakota and her partner Ellis in on the call when it was time to prep for lunch.

Dakota led the way with a recipe from her restaurant, “If any of you dare share this with anyone, I’ll knock you out.”

Her laugh only sang one note before she slapped her hand over it and looked down at her screen with a face full of guilt. Oscar laughed it off, maybe a little forced, then he swiped at the nearest conversation topic – the world’s hottest pepper.

“Maybe you could stick in in your next recipe. Do a competition where if you eat all the spicy stuff, you get your name on the wall and get half off or something.”

And the call continued for a little longer.

Spencer was just testing out the new spices acquired in their online shop – because according to Dakota there was nothing is worse than being able to actually taste the chicken – when the screen froze. A tiny widget popped up to inform the men that the signal was too poor to continue the call.

Oscar wiggled the mouse, “Oh, God, your connection’s gone again. You mind if I try and find us a better provider?”

“Go for it.”

They clinked their wine glasses together, sipping with questionable responses to it. Oscar dared another sip while Spencer was satisfied with just the one, deciding instead to check on the chicken.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

Oscar placed his wine down. “Are we boyfriends?”

In all their time together, Spencer realised they never once spoke about their relationship status. They just sort of… moved in together, shared a bed, held hands and kissed occasionally – without discussing what was going on.

He said with relative boldness, “I’d like to be.”

“I’d like to be too,” Oscar bit his lip, the smile distorting but still charming as ever. His arms swayed a little. “Can I hug you please?”

With a renewed sense of vigour, Spencer said, “Yes please.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Spencer’s mind needed a rest; perhaps returning to the geographic profile after some time apart would garner a new connection. This case was driving everyone nuts, not just him, and it was only the third day in. he plucked his mug and headed over to the coffee pot for a top-up.

Whilst pouring his third cup of the morning, Spencer took note of his phone’s weight in his trouser pocket. He decided to lessen it, his hand reaching in and dialling for Oscar.

The call clicked after three rings then a boisterous laugh erupted from the speaker.

“Sorry, Spencer! This little one keeps jumping up at me! She barely reaches my knees!” Oscar’s voice was playful. Little claws clicked on a hard floor followed by a tiny yet indignant yip that was echoed by several much deeper barks. Spencer assumed this little one was a ring leader at the dog kennel, the one Oscar was trying to sweet talk.

“That’s ok. You sound like you’re having a good time.”

“It’s brilliant! They let me take four dogs out on a walk at a time!”

The ache in Spencer’s left shoulder from sleeping in an odd position alleviated just a touch. “Yeah?”

“I think I might try to get my licence back, so I can maybe drive them out to the countryside.”

“That’s brilliant news.”

“How’s the case?”

“I’m just taking a break.” Spencer sipped his coffee, burning the back of his throat. As he flinched, he caught sight of Luke’s hand, waving him back over to the conference room. “Sorry, Oscar, I have to get back to the profile.”

“I really like how you say ‘Oscar’.”

“I’m just saying your name.”

“I know,” and Spencer could very clearly hear Oscar’s smile in his voice – even over the constant din from the dogs he was caring for.

“I like how you say my name. See you later?”

“Hopefully. Take care of yourself.”

What a delight to see Oscar, after a rush of evidence flooding in and the pieces slotting together in a now-obvious profile. That evening in fact, Spencer made it back to his apartment at the same time as Oscar. He was carrying a plastic bag to mirror Spencer’s satchel. He didn’t feel like cooking and knew that Spencer wouldn’t be in the mood either; it was a few microwaved meals from the local store in his bag.

They ate dinner in the sitting room on trays - as a treat – and they partook in a very one-sided conversation about Star Trek. Oscar didn’t seem to mind, and honestly Spencer liked the freedom that came with talking here. It was like a hint of who he was before was bleeding through. Every so often though, Oscar would remind him that his food was going to get cold. Spencer would take a moment to eat before the next interesting factoid was inspired from the episode on the TV.

At the start of the next episode, his plate empty, Spencer noticed that Oscar’s gaze was a little restless as he finished his dinner.

“Is something bothering you?” He asked, adjusting his position on the sofa.

Oscar shrugged as he put his cushioned lap tray onto the carpet, “Not bothering me. I’m just curious about something.”

Naturally, Spencer said, “Ask me.” Maybe it was the difference between Vulcans and Romulans again.

“When you stabbed yourself while looking at me, before you got out, was that a substitution for sex?”

Spencer blinked several times. He could feel pinstripes forming on his forehead. He cleared his throat, took a sip of his water, cleared his throat again.

“No, no. I… um.”

Then he stopped because he realised he didn’t quite have an answer yet. His mind was busy straying back to that moment: the flare of pain in his leg and arm, the roaring of inmates around his head, and Oscar - an island of frozen calm amidst the chaos of Spencer’s actions. Eventually, Spencer found a semblance of a reply and he delivered it.

“I was just looking around, and I found you. I think I was looking for comfort.”

Seemingly accepting of this, Oscar’s attention moved back to the TV. His hands occupied themselves with each other. However, Spencer was not quite ready to let the subject go; he’d been thinking about this a lot lately.

“I’m sorry we haven’t…”

Oscar picked up what he was putting down, “Don’t be sorry, Spencer. Don’t ever, ever be sorry for that. I didn’t ask to guilt you. It was in the lesson you taught last week. I listened to it on my break today.”

The image of his Dictaphone on the desk at college - and another of it hanging out of Oscar’s rucksack’s front pocket – recalled itself in Spencer’s head.

“I probably could have asked you a bit nicer,” Oscar altered his position on the couch to bring his knees up to his chest.

“Probably.”

“I’m sorry, Spencer.”

“You’re forgiven.”

“Could you tell me more about the Romulans please?”

As Spencer restarted his speech, albeit with less enthusiasm than before, Oscar brought out his notepad from his backpack. His fingers pinched around the blue crayon as he scrawled Spencer’s facts, putting the differences into a roughly drawn table.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Seeing Oscar standing in the bullpen with a visitor’s badge was not what Spencer expected to see today. He certainly didn’t expect to see him sipping tea with Penelope and chatting away at Spencer’s empty desk. Oscar had clearly just arrived, still bundled up in his coat. The flowers Oscar had sent to the office that morning stood gorgeously arranged beside his oft-neglected computer desktop.

“Hi!” Spencer power-walked up to them, almost reaching a jog. Oscar met him halfway, but his pace decreased the closer he got to Spencer. It was the sound of the team drawing through the glass double doors that told Spencer what was going through his head.

He turned to his family, already gesturing behind him where Oscar stood, “Everyone, this is my boyfriend Oscar.”

Waving, Oscar had his other hand stuck deep in his pocket as he spoke, “Penelope gave me the rundown of your names. Nice to meet you.”

The team was rather tired from the case and obviously a little caught off guard by the fact that the felon Spencer had fallen for was just hanging around in their bullpen. But Spencer was relieved when they all greeted Oscar with a fairly warm manner, wished Spencer "happy birthday" again, before they shuffled off to their respective desks and offices. Penelope bid her farewell to Oscar with the promise of a movie night some time in the future. Then she hugged her Boy Wonder and returned to her batcave.

“Sorry,” Oscar said quietly, “I wanted to travel home with you. Kinda forgot that I would be running into your whole team.”

“I don’t mind. In fact, I wanted you to meet them.”

Spencer’s hand stayed in Oscar’s for the entire walk back to Oscar’s new car in the lot. While they parted momentarily en route, they found each other again when Oscar had to pull over during the drive home. The car that had swerved and cut in front of them became two red lights in the far distance, the sound of its engine and screeching tires muted by Oscar’s heavy breathing.

Oscar released the steering wheel and clung to Spencer’s hand, but Spencer could feel that Oscar was holding back, trying not to crush his fingers. He rubbed over Oscar’s knuckles.

“In, two, three, four,” Spencer counted, “Hold, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.”

He repeated this five times and Oscar leant back in his seat.

“I was doing so well,” He said, his voice cracking in its quietness.

“You still are. We both are.” Spencer kissed the back of Oscar’s hand, “Come on, I’ll drive us the rest of the way.”

Two blocks later and they were about to enter their apartment.

Oscar stopped them though, just before Spencer’s key met the lock, “Could you wait out here? Just for a minute, please?”

Spencer complied, a countdown in his head clicking off the seconds as soon as his front door was closed to him. A smile crept onto his face as he heard Oscar clattering about the apartment. He wasn’t exactly being subtle; Spencer wouldn’t have it any other way.

Once Spencer was finally allowed in, he was greeted by a low-lit scene. Oscar was holding a match to the last candle at the table. He’d taken off his long coat to revealing a freshly ironed floral pattern. The stereo speakers were already humming Mozart. The crumpled takeaway paper bag by the pedal bin didn’t go unnoticed, but Spencer decided to focus instead on how the food was arranged on the plates - either side of a delightful floral arrangement.

“Oh Oscar, you already got me so much this morning,” Spencer said sheepishly, with the knowledge that he had avoided looking up the prices of his gifts so he could calculate just how much of Oscar’s third paycheque went into his birthday.

“I know, but I wanted your birthday to be perfect,” Oscar opened up one of the tubs, a wave of steam lifting gently with the lid, “It’s from the new Thai place down the road.”

Spencer hung up his satchel on his its hook, “I suppose I have been wanting to try their green curry for a while now.”

Once he had changed into something more comfortable (plus a hint of smartness), Spencer sat down with Oscar for dinner. Both men found that he was not immune to the romanticism of a candlelit dinner with his boyfriend, and Spencer more so. The effort behind it, the aroma of the lavender candle with the spiced food, the glow around his Oscar’s face as he went over the day behind them, it was all getting to him.

Of course, Oscar offered to clean up once they were done eating and talking – for now at least. Spencer still helped though. Any time with Oscar was time well spent. Even loading the dishwasher. Except now Oscar was staring at Spencer’s face, gaze fidgeting between his eyes and his mouth, and Spencer was worrying about it.

Christ, what was he meant to do to let Oscar know he wanted to kiss him without saying so? Pout?

“Are you ok?” Oscar’s brow creased.

Fuck.

“Yes,” Spencer said, quickly removing the pout from his lips, “I’m good.”

“Good.” Oscar swung their linked hands between them thrice. Then he let go of one to thumb across the corner of Spencer’s jaw and he closed the gap between them. Spencer felt Oscar’s recently applied lip balm on his chapped lips, those stupid lips that Spencer spent too much time thinking about. They felt so much better against Spencer’s and smiling with reckless abandon. So reckless, in fact, that the smile grew into a laugh, buzzing against Spencer and tickling him more than his facial hair.

Oscar pulled away, still giggling and apologising, “Sorry, sorry, I’m not laughing at you.”

“I know you’re not. You’d never laugh at me.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

A chorus of “hello!” harmonised in the doorway as the Dunnagans’ entered Spencer and Oscar’s apartment. Laden with gifts and food offerings, Tony, Eliza, and Dakota kissed and hugged their way into the sitting room.

Oscar and Dakota were the ones in charge, everyone else on some kind of prep duty while they ordered them about in the politest manner. Spencer was trying to be a good prep boy but Eliza was just better and faster, so he stuck to cleaning as they went. Oscar kissed his cheek while passing by; Tony had hung up a sprig of mistletoe just over their heads. Ducking away to avoid kissing his potential father-in-law, Spencer chased the sound of his phone ringing. He even ducked under it as if lowering his torso would avoid the mistletoe above him.

All five swayed ever so slightly out of sync as they bellowed the classics and groaned over the pop renditions. Spencer’s new watch hugged his wrist and ticked away each pleasant second.

“No, don’t hide your hair!” Eliza ripped off the Santa hat Spencer’s head and pulled up flattened tufts of his hair until it resumed its usual messy state.

“There! Never get a haircut, you’re too handsome for that.” She patted his cheek before taking another swig of her red wine – the same shade as her Christmas jumper and Spencer’s cheeks. Spencer looked to Oscar, not to protest but to see if he had Oscar witnessed this.

Oscar merely shrugged, “I mean she’s not wrong.” He finished off peeling the sprouts, handing them over to Tony for chopping, “I have to admit, it was one of the things that drew me to you when we met.”

“Really?”

Another nod in response, Oscar drew nearer, closing the conversation to everyone but Spencer, “You and your Bambi eyes and your hair and your perfect mouth.”

Spencer suddenly found himself unable to look directly at Oscar, as if he were the sun. An outsider looking in might infer that it was the gaudy red of his horrendous Christmas jumper that made his cheeks seem so pink. They would be wrong.

Spencer burst out, “It was Rossi on the phone. He wants to know if you’re still coming tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’m not backing out. If I start to, I need you behind me and pushing me through the door.” Oscar’s shoulders twitched with his laugh.

“I don’t know, feels like you could toss me over your shoulder if you wanted.”

“I could. Technically.”

Spencer’s cheeks went scarlet at the thought of Oscar carrying him down Rossi’s driveway in such a way. But before he could ask Oscar to slow the flow of compliments, Dakota called to them across the room: “Aw, Oscar, you’ve got your own stocking?”

“Yeah, Spencer bought it for me, early gift!” It hung proudly on the bookshelf beside Spencer’s.

The table had already been set for the family. Dakota brought her own crackers, informing them that the snap had been removed. Terrible paper crown and horrendous jokes were passed around the five people before they dished up their Christmas dinner. Comically small in his hands, Oscar cradled the box of the primary coloured crayons in his palm and frisbeed the ruler with the shapes cut out over to Eliza.

The pigs in blankets were a little burnt, the nut roast barely touched, and there was so much left over that they would be eating ham and turkey sandwiches for days to come.

Spencer was so full of food and joy that it would be impossible to be carried on his boyfriend’s shoulder. He settled instead for being held in Oscar’s lap as they squished into the armchair, the rest of the family on the couch to watch the garbage Christmas specials. Dozing on his shoulder with a close-lipped smile, Oscar looked content. His yellow paper crown was crushed near the front, slipping down his left temple.

Oh, Spencer was grateful for his dedicated memory. He could match and topple all those memories of them in prison with times like these forever – and he planned on doing just that.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x oc #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x oc #my writing #r: male #wc: 10k+

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euphoricdumpsterfire · 4 years

Text

To the Moon and Back (Peter Parker x Stark OC) Chapter 2

Master list

Warnings: Mild Profanity

A/N: Hey guys sorry if I kinda updated late, and for the next few days I’ll be extremely busy being a student poll worker for the elections so Chapter 3 might come out hopefully by next Friday, but do watch out for a link to a playlist that I specifically made for this fanfic! Anyways, have a great day <3

Word Count: 2216

Summary: Nixie meets Peter Parker and makes friends with him. Moonflower goes on a patrol around Queens and finally meets Spiderman in person.

Nixie had stayed up all night researching whatever she could find about Spiderman and the only things that she saw were videos of him on Youtube just swinging around the city and saving lives. There wasn’t anything else particularly interesting about him besides the fact that he can shoot webs, Nixie thought, although she was still curious as to why she’s been seeing visions of this specific hero.

Nixie stared at her screen intently watching the same video of Spiderman over and over again, analyzing every single detail of the video. Then her door creaked, it was Natasha. “Rise and shine early-” Nixie turned her head to look at Natasha, “And you’re already awake!” She exclaimed as she entered the room.

“Actually, I’ve been up all night.” Nixie answered,

“Well that explains the dark circles…” Natasha replied as she looked at the computer monitor, “Have you been watching Spiderman this whole time?” She asked and Nixie nodded.

“Seems like you already have a thing for him.” A smirk formed on Natasha’s face

“What? NO!” Nixie retorted, “I was just simply researching… I was hoping I could find some more info on him, but all I could find are these youtube videos.” She added.

“Well, you’ll find more info if you start getting ready. It’s a long trip from here to Queens.” Natasha said as she walked towards the door and waited for Nixie to get up.

“Ugh, I better be an Avenger by the end of this…” Nixie muttered as she got up and started to get ready for the day.

Once she was all dressed up, she headed straight to the kitchen and prepared her coffee in her travel mug. “Morning Moonie.” Tony would only refer to his daughter Moonie when he’s terribly concerned, “I heard you stayed up all night…” Nixie looked up at her father with a tired stare.

“I did.” She answered,

“Look, when I said I wanted you to find out who Spiderman is, I didn’t mean that you go out of your way and stay up all night looking him up.” He replied,

She wanted to tell him about the visions but something inside of her is telling that it wasn’t the right time, “I know, but... It’s just that... I don’t know. I can’t really think, the lack of sleep is getting to me.” Nixie yawned as she poured a bit of milk into her coffee.

Tony looked at his daughter with deep concern as her face was pale, making her dark circles even more prominent. “God, you look like you came out of a Tim Burton movie.” Nixie rolled her eyes at her dad’s snarky statement.

***

Meanwhile in an apartment somewhere in Queens, a young Peter Parker had just finished getting ready for school. He tied his shoelaces, grabbed his backpack, and made his way to the door, “Hey hey, wait!” his aunt May scurried to the door and handed him his lunch bag,

“Thanks May.” Peter said with a smile,

“Remember, after band practice, go straight home got it?” May said with one eyebrow raised, Peter nodded and waved goodbye.

He walked to the subway station which was extremely packed. He stood next to a guy whose armpit hair reeked of rotten vinegar which Peter had to endure for the rest of his trip. Once he got to his stop, he breathed heavily before he could start walking to the campus.

The campus was surrounded by huge trees and a few bushes here and there. Peter walked through the courtyard as he listened to music, he kept walking and didn’t even realize that he was about to bump into someone. Once it had already happened, he finally snapped out of reality. He bumped into a girl who was holding a few books and a travel mug, the coffee spilled everywhere and mostly on the tree that she was standing next to.

“Oh no, are you okay?” Peter thought the girl was talking directly to him but his eyes were fixed on the fallen textbooks and did not notice that she was actually talking to the tree.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?” Peter asked as he picked up her books and the girl turned around to look at him.

“Uh... Right, uhm yeah I’m good...” She awkwardly answered,

“It was my bad I wasn’t looking...” Once Peter got up, he finally got a good look at the girl, he tilted his head realizing that he had never seen her before.

“Well, I didn’t get a stain on my clothes so it’s all fine.” She answered,

“I don’t think I’ve met you before...” Peter said as he handed the girl’s textbooks.

“That’s cuz I’m new,” the girl chuckled, “I’m Nixie.” the name sounded so familiar but Peter could not point his finger at it until after a minute of registering it. His jaw dropped in astonishment.

“You’re-” Before he could even actually say a full sentence, Nixie nodded.

“Yup. I’m Stark’s kid.” She replied.

“But I thought you went to Knox?” Peter asked,

“Wait, people knew which school I go to?!” Nixie exclaimed,

“Well yeah... You’re dad’s famous, that makes you famous.” Peter replied and just when Nixie was about to open her mouth, the school bell rang.

“What class do you have?” Peter asked and Nixie showed a piece of paper showing her class schedule.

“We both have the same classes together, I’ll just walk with you to show you around if that’s fine with you.” Peter said and Nixie smiled,

“Great, thanks!” She replied.

Eventually, they were joined by Peter’s friend Ned who was a bit more outspoken and had expressed his love for computer games. All three of them had the same classes and Nixie was lucky enough to sit next to them in almost all of their classes except for Art, where she sat next to a girl named MJ and Liz.

Because of her world famous father, everyone couldn’t help but look at her and start whispering which made her feel uncomfortable and awkward, but thanks to Peter and Ned she the discomfort and awkwardness faded away as she felt welcomed and appreciated by her two new friends.

When it was lunch time, Peter, Ned, and Nixie sat down and ate their lunch. Nixie couldn’t help but notice that MJ was sitting one table away from them. “Shouldn’t we... Like invite her over here?” Nixie asked the two guys who sat across from her.

“Nah, she always sits there by herself.” Ned answered,

“Yeah but-”

“I’m just a table away, I can hear you guys loud and clear.” MJ said, she then turned her eyes to Nixie, “And I’m fine sitting here, thanks.” MJ went back to reading her book again.

“See?!” Ned whispered loudly

“So Nixie, how does it feel like being around the Avengers?” Peter asked,

“Well... Steve’s like an old grandpa but you can definitely count on him for some good old timey music, Natasha’s like an aunt to me and she’s extremely cool, then there’s the new people, Wanda and Vision. I haven’t really talked to them but that’s mostly because Vision creeps me out.” Nixie answered,

“Whoa... It must be chaotic when they have missions...” Ned said

“Trust me, it is...” Nixie replied, and then it was time to finally ask the million dollar question, “So, what do you guys know about the spiderman dude?” she noticed that Peter dropped his fork and froze right after the question, but Ned shrugged.

“No one really knows his identity, but I do know he’s pretty cool.” Ned continued, “Why’d you ask?”

“Nothing… I just thought he’s really cool, Moonflower’s better though.” Nixie said as her eyes were fixated on Peter’s reactions to the discussion of Spiderman, he remained frozen, as if he was guilty of something.

“Oh yeah, I’ve seen some of her videos on youtube too. She’s pretty cool.” Peter finally spoke.

“Is she part of the Avengers? I can’t remember…” Ned replied,

“Nah, she’s just roaming around Manhattan, basically like Spiderman.” Nixie answered.

“How’d you know that? Have you seen her before?” Peter raised an eyebrow at Nixie,but she couldn’t answer. Thankfully, she was saved by the bell and they all went to their classes.

A week has passed and Nixie still doesn’t have information on Spiderman, but she suspects that her friend Peter might know who he is. So one day after school she runs after Peter. “Hey Pete!” Peter was startled by Nixie that he was ready to throw a punch, “Whoa there… If I were you I’d think twice about that.” Nixie said while her hands were raised as if she was ready to block him.

“Sorry, I thought you were a thief…” Peter replied as he scratched the back of his head, embarrassed.

“It’s all good, I was just wondering if you could help me with my literature assignment. I’ve been struggling with some parts and I could really use that brain of yours.” Nixie asked expecting he would say something like,

“You know what… I would if I could, but I-I have plans…” Peter stuttered,

“Oh, so where you off to?” Nixie asked,

“Just some part-time job at a… Deli! Yeah, I just got a part-time job at a dei.” Nixie immediately knew that Peter was lying but she went along with it.

“Oh that’s totally fine, I’ll probably just ask MJ. I’ll see you around!” Nixie waved goodbye,

“Yeah, see ya!” Peter waved back. Once Nixie turned and left, he let out a sigh of relief immediately ran to the subway station to finally start his evening patrol.

***

“Are you sure about this?” Happy looked at Nixie wearing her usual suit who planned to go around Queens as Moonflower in hopes of finding Spiderman and hoping that whoever she’s suspecting is indeed the masked hero.

“How else am I gonna get information on him? And besides, it’s good publicity!” Nixie teased and Happy rolled his eyes.

“Fine, and if you don’t come back to the car by 10 pm, I WILL LEAVE.” Happy emphasized the last three words and Nixie just nodded as she put on her mask.

“Alright, see ya later.” Nixie winked and stretched her arms out, thick vines grew on the brick wall that she was facing and climbed onto it to get to the top. She walked around hoping to get a sight of Spiderman but there was nothing. She moved from building to building, until she saw a woman who stood closely next to a man with a ski mask. The man had a gun pointing at the woman’s head waiting for her to open up her bag, and all of a sudden, a string of web sprouted out of nowhere leaving the man unarmed. It was Nixie’s chance, she immediately used her vine and slid down to the bottom of the building and hid in the shadows.

“Who’s there?” The man yelled as he pulled out a back-up knife and pointed it towards the woman’s neck. “Give me back my gun or she dies!” The man yelled. Then, the person that Nixie’s been waiting for stepped out, Spiderman shot out another web taking the knife from the man and threw a punch at him. The man laid unconscious on the ground and Spiderman stood in front of him with his hands on his hips.

“Not so scary now are ya?” Spiderman scoffed. It was Nixie’s first time hearing his voice and it sounded really familiar to her, but figuring out who he was wasn’t the priority right now as she saw a group of men whom she assumed was with the other guy were cracking up their knuckles and were ready to ambush Spiderman who was completely clueless.

It was finally her moment, Nixie touched the ground and vines with sharp thorns started growing out and wrapped around the legs of the men, one was close enough to throw a punch but before they could even do it, Nixie yelled, “YO SPIDERMAN WATCH OUT!” Spiderman immediately swerved making the other man fall to the ground. It wasn’t long until the other men got rid of the vines so Nixie threw small grenades that would release a pungent odor similar to the corpse flower once thrown at the target and would immediately make them lose consciousness. It released green smoke and once the scent hit their noses, the men dropped to the ground like dead flies.

Spiderman was already busy making sure the woman went home safely as Nixie tied all of them together with her vine rope. “So… Moonflower eh?” She turned around to see Spiderman.

“Glad we could finally meet, Spiderman.” She replied.

“I must say, those stink bombs are pretty impressive.” Spiderman said as he crossed his arms against his chest.

“I know right?! They’re pretty sick!”, “The cops are on their way to pick these losers up.” She had a huge smile that seemed familiar to Spiderman. “But I must say Peter, those web shooters are far more impressive than my stink bombs.” She added.

“Well, I mean they did take much work but I don’t think…” Spiderman paused and looked at Moonflower who had a smirk on her face. “Did you just call me…”

“That’s right, Peter Parker.”

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sierraraeck · 4 years

Text

Break (Pt.1)

BAU x OC Aundreya

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Summary: As the situation for Spencer in prison continues to get worse, Aundreya has to come up with something to save him and fast. Story fourteen.

Category: Angst.

Warnings: Cussing. Mentions of drugs and homicide. Sexualized comments.

Word Count: 4.0k

A/N: Just a reminder that I don’t actually know how prisons work.

All bad things happen at 3am.

I am convinced.

If you can get to 4am, you are in the clear, but until then, 3am is coming to bite you in the ass.

The last time I got a call at 3am, it was to inform me that Derek’s cousin was missing and we had to save her.

This time, it was to let me know that Spencer was in critical condition in the prison infirmary.

I was the first one at the office other than Hotch who made the calls. The rest of the team wasn’t too far behind me, all walking in with the utmost sense of urgency.

Except for Derek.

Who was pissed.

“I thought you said that those things were going to help him!” he spat in my direction. Derek, Aaron, and I had kept our promise on not telling the rest of the team how bad of a condition Spencer was in, and I didn’t let either of them in on my plan with the chains and fake backstory until Derek figured it out and told Aaron.

The rest of the team stopped in their tracks to try and understand what he was talking about. “Yes, they were supposed to and they have for weeks,” I replied, attempting to stay calm.

“That’s not good enough. Instead of protecting him, you put a target on his back,” he accused.

“Woah, calm down-” Prentiss tried.

“I am not going to calm down! Reid got stabbed, Emily. He almost died! And it’s because of her,” he said, turning his fiery gaze on me again.

“That is not fair,” I dropped my voice almost to a whisper and my nostrils were flaring.

“Oh really? Because I think that those guys wouldn’t have made an elaborate plan to kill him if he’d just kept his head down. Those bracelets of yours drew attention to him and they probably hurt him only to get back at you for whatever the hell you did to them,” he said. His voice was cold and dry, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was right. If Spencer would have been better off without me altogether. The answer had to be yes.

I was thankful for Emily’s persistence to understand because she saved me from having to respond. “What are you talking about?”

“Chambers here went to visit Reid. She gave him those bracelets and rings of hers that identify her as The Figure, or the gang-slash-ring leader or whatever. She told him to wear them and to ‘drop the innocent act’ and to tell other inmates that he was associated with her. Look where that got him.”

“It’s not her fault, Morgan. That could have happened to him either way, and it could have happened sooner had he not had those with him,” Prentiss tried. She was one of the best people who could get through to Morgan, but this time, it didn’t seem to be working.

“Or it could have not happened at all. I guess we’ll never know considering she continues to make decisions about his safety without input from the rest of us,” he hissed.

“You’re right, we won’t know,” Hotch said, emerging from his office. “All we have now is that it happened and we have to move on and try to do what’s best for him. Which includes working together to solve this case and get his name cleared. Understand?”

Derek sent one more dagger through me with his eyes before looking up at Hotch, “Yes.”

“Chambers?”

“Yes.”

“Great. Rossi is on his way to visit Reid and update us along the way. The rest of us need to look harder at this case,” Hotch said.

We all headed up to meet him in the briefing room and Prentiss quickly caught up to me. “Hey, it’s not your fault. Don’t let him make you feel bad about it. You were just trying to help.”

“Thanks Emily, but he’s right. I wasn’t being helpful,” I let out a small sigh and shook my head, “and it never seems like I am.”

With that, we entered the room and got to work.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

“So all we have is Reid talking to Corbyn Young, a kid who was a part of Aundreya’s ring who ended up dead only hours after Reid talked to him because he thought Corbyn was stalking him, and a sketchy message from someone who she’s pissed off?” JJ confirmed, gesturing my way.

Morgan scoffed under his breath, “Yeah, that really narrows it down.” I didn’t even bother to glare at him.

“Chambers, can you think of anyone in particular that would do something this intricate?” Hotch asked.

“Yes. Like half of the people from my past,” I said, confirming what Morgan stated. Hotch sighed.

“We’ve been going over all of this and looking into more angles for weeks and we are no closer to getting him out that we were when we started,” JJ huffed.

“This sonuvabitch is thorough,” Morgan said.

I sat there going over every single person I thought was capable of doing this, hoping I could think of anyone other than who I’d already suspected.

My train of thought was interrupted by a phone ringing.

“Yes?” Hotch answered. There was a mumbling on the other line before Hotch paused and said, “He’s going to be fine. He just woke up.” A collective sight spread throughout the room. “Yeah… Are you sure?... Anything else we need to know?... What do you think?... Sure… Yes, that is true… I’ll let her know. Thanks Dave.” With that, he hung up and turned to look at me. “He wants to see you.”

“What?” Derek, JJ and I all blurted at the same time.

Hotch and Prentiss exchanged an unreadable look.

“Head down there. We will continue without you,” is all he told me. I nodded, and quickly scanned the reactions around me. Confusion, disgust, betrayal, concern. A mixture of some or all of those.

But there wasn’t much time to think through it. I just left the remaining five of them to their work and headed for the prison.

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

“Hey Doctor Genius,” I said as I slipped into the infirmary. Rossi was sitting in a chair next to him.

“Hey,” he said, sitting further up.

“I thought we agreed that this wouldn’t happen again,” I playfully scolded. He quirked one side of his mouth up.

“I guess you’re just gonna have to keep showing up to help me,” he said. It was meant to be a joke, and I knew that the time he got shot wasn’t what he was trying to get at, but it was all I could think about when he said ‘help me.’ I vividly remembered what happened the last time I offered to help him.

But I played along. “Maybe I should start charging.”

“Hey, that’s my line,” Rossi accused. I let a small laugh escape my lips as Rossi got up to leave. “I’ll be back.”

Once he left, I occupied the seat he’d just vacated. “Darrell?”

“Yeah.”

“And his two friends?”

“Yeah.”

“Where?”

Instead of answering, he exposed his stomach to me. There were two wounds with stitches through them. One was just to the left of his belly button and the other was just above it, forming a line about two inches long. If I had to guess, the scar ended right where his ribs started.

“They compliment your other one,” I commented.

“Thanks,” he said, covering himself back up.

We sat in silence for a while before the question I’d had for almost two months starting nagging at the back of my mind. I wanted to wait for the right time to ask, but I really didn’t think that would ever come. So I just went for it.

“How was your date with Maeve?”

He was thrown for a loop. His eyes got wide and he furrowed his brow. Clearly this was not the question he was expecting. “It was fine.”

“Fine? That’s all?” I gave him an encouraging smile.

“I showed up, she almost got all the way to the restaurant when I thought I saw her stalker.”

“Her stalker?” I was astonished. He’d never mentioned this before.

“Oh. Yeah. That’s why we didn’t plan to meet sooner and why I have to call her on payphones. It’s because she has a stalker,” he tried to sound matter-of-fact, but I detected the disappointment behind the statements.

“Oh Spence,” I said. His nickname just slipped out and he noticed, but I kept going. “I’m so sorry. What made her wanna meet, then?”

“She thought they were gone. She thought she was in the clear, but when I showed up, there was a man who just kept looking over at me and I got worried and called it off.”

“I’m so sorry,” I repeated.

“Me too,” he said, dropping his gaze.

“Is there anything I can do?” I offered. It was a long shot, but I figured I might as well put it out there.

“What do you mean?”

“I just mean that you haven’t been able to contact her for weeks, and she’s got to be worried. If I can call or check up on her…” I trailed off, not really knowing what I’d do. I was hoping he had an idea.

“Um, I don’t know. I don’t want her to know about … this,” he said.

“I understand that. I can leave that part out and just assure her you’re okay and that you didn’t just fall off of the face of the Earth,” I suggested.

“Yeah. I guess. I just don’t know how she’d feel about me giving her number to someone else, you know?”

It was a valid point and I could tell he was conflicted. “It’s up to you. I will do whatever you want.”

He sat there pondering before answering, “No. As much as I don’t want her to worry, I won’t risk her safety.”

“Okay. That’s a good choice,” I said, granted, I would have agreed with his decision either way.

“Do you guys have anything?” he asked.

I tried to ignore how desperate his eyes were when I replied, “We’re working on it.”

“Okay.”

“But I have a plan,” I said. His eyes snapped right back to mine. “Please, just hold on for a little bit longer.”

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m going to get you out of here,” I whispered.

Realization struck his eyes. “Don’t. It’s not worth it.”

“Of course it is. I will be in and out,” I promised.

“You could get caught,” he pleaded.

“I won’t. They didn’t catch me the first time, they won’t catch us the second time.”

“Us?” his level of concern was on the rise.

“I’ve got a round trip ticket and you’ve got a one-way out.”

“It’s a bad idea.”

“It’s the best one we have.”

“There’s got to be a better way,” he breathed.

“I’m not sure there is. And I’d rather have us both be on the run than leave you in here and have you end up dead, knowing I could have done something more.” He had nothing to say to that, so I finished with, “One of those situations you can get out of, the other one you can’t. Buying you, and the team, more time to clear your name is the best case scenario.”

I saw his eyes flick towards the door and I turned around to see Rossi approaching.

I rushed, “Don’t worry about it. Just keep yourself in here and in solitary as long as you can. I’m coming to get you.”

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

I signed myself up to go back to my least favorite place on Earth.

Prison.

The problem was, that if I was going to break him out, I very well couldn’t do it as a visitor. I would have to become a bit more involved. As much as I didn’t want to, being an inmate again was going to be the easiest way in and out.

That being siad, I had to do something that would warrant me going to prison, without being something super extreme like murder. White collar crimes would take too long to set up, so I was thinking theft? Vandalism? Destruction of private property? Trespassing? Drug dealing?

While those were all viable options, I had one that seemed even better. Or maybe worse. But definitely quicker, more effective, and immediately on hand.

Assaulting an FBI agent.

Granted, I was an FBI agent, so it might seem more like a workplace quarrel, but I went into it with a Plan A, a Plan B, and of course a Plan C.

I arrived back at the office, but waited in the parking lot for my text to be delivered.

It only took a couple of minutes before Derek Morgan was exiting the building, approaching me at a rapid pace.

“I got your text, what’s up?”

“Hit me.” It was a simple command but one that obviously didn’t make sense to him.

“What?” Derek’s eyes got wide.

“Hit me!” I said louder, as if my volume change would help him understand. When he continued to look at me dumbfoundedly, I blew an irritated breath out of my nose, then hit him right in his perfectly chiseled jaw. It kinda hurt. “I said hit me!”

As he recovered, he turned around and tossed a fist at my head, which I easily ducked under. I was honestly surprised he was willing to come at me after only one punch, but I guess his anger and disgust for getting his younger brother hurt overpowered his usually clean conscience. That, or my commanding and urgent tone really convinced him to do what I asked. Potentially both.

“Oh come on, Derek,” I taunted, “That can’t possibly be your best.”

He wiggled his jaw, but took a step back. “I don’t know what the hell is going on, but I am not going to do this.” I guess he’s stronger than I thought.

He turned to walk away, but I came up behind him and swept his legs out from under him. He landed on his ass and had the wind knocked out of him.

“The first rule of fighting is to never turn your back to your opponent,” I said with a condescending tone. I gave him room to stand up, which he quickly utilized, turning to face me.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked me. It’s as if the asphalt stripped him of his anger in addition to his breath.

“Because I figured I’d have the most fun kicking your ass,” I replied. I went in for my second strike and he moved out of the way, catching my fist in his. I pivoted away and elbowed him in the ribs with my free arm.

I don’t want to hurt you too badly, I thought, but I need to fuel you enough so you’ll fight back.

He grunted but tossed me away from him, putting his foot out in the process causing me to trip. The sting of the pavement left nice tears in my pants right over my already bleeding knees.

“No need to hold back, Derek,” I grumbled, “I thought I already warned all of you to never go easy on me.” He could have hit me with no problem, but he opted to trip me instead. I couldn’t have any of that if my plan was going to be successful.

“Why are you doing this?” he repeated.

I pushed off from my hands so I was standing, brushing the little rocks out of my palms and raised my eyebrows, “I deserve it, don’t I?”

I didn’t give him time to answer because I went in for a kick. I made contact with his shoulder which made him stumble backwards.

“Huh?” was all he could manage.

I went in for another kick, aimed at his right shoulder this time, and only barely made contact before he grabbed my ankle with his strong hands. He held me firmly where I was, and I almost wanted to smile at the opportunity. It was a move I had mastered, but hadn’t performed in a long time. I pushed off of my other leg, springing into the air and completing a 360 turn. Usually, I’d kick the other person in the face as I went, but I didn’t want to do too much damage to Derek. That wasn’t my main goal. Instead, I kicked over his head, but the movement was strong enough to break his grip on my other ankle. I landed one foot after the other, returning to a typical fighting stance and read the look of astonishment in his eyes.

I persisted, “I mean, I’ve hurt people. Killed people. I’m no better than the murderers we hunt. I’ve been manipulating all of you, getting you to trust me for my own benefit, and look how that’s ended up. Some kind of profilers you guys are, letting a grade A criminal join your unit, then letting her rip you apart right under your noses. I’ve caused nothing but trouble for all of you since the day I joined. I almost got your best friend killed. Can you imagine that? Being shoved against the wall, the blade dripping with his blood. Slowly bleeding out on the floor of his dark cell, wondering if he was gonna die alone in a place he didn’t belong, having that be his lasting legacy. I mean, I was the only reason they targeted him. You said it yourself. I’m the reason he’s in prison in the first place,” I said deliberately, making sure to emphasize each word, letting the weight behind them sink in. I could feel him winding up and it brought a curl to my lips. If there was one thing I knew how to do, it was act deranged and sound enticed by the idea of Spencer’s blood on the floor, hoping it would be enough.

And it was.

I saw his foot shift forward an inch or two before his fist followed. This time, I let him hit me.

My head snapped to the far right. It was a dizzying feeling, and it almost forced me off my feet.

I cackled as I turned to look at him, bringing the back of my hand to my mouth to wipe the sticky blood from my lips. The sight and smell, the whole atmosphere of fighting, brought back memories of my worst days, but honestly some of my proudest moments. I hated myself for it, but I meant it when I said, “I forgot how exhilarating this is.”

The look on his face was one I’d only ever seen him wear when staring down an unsub. I reveled in the fact that not only was my plan working, it was working perfectly. I decided I’d rip that disgusted look of his face, going in for a punch I knew he’d dodge, instead making contact with my knee at the base of his throat. I heard him cough and bring a hand to his neck, but by now, I had his adrenaline pumping. He brought his other fist up and made full contact with the center of my stomach before following it up with a strike to my face.

We were both clutching at our most recent sore spots, my eye socket throbbing, preparing for the next blow when the doors behind me blew open.

“What the hell is going on out here?” Hotch hollered.

I turned to look at him, and realized that the entire team had followed. I glanced above their heads and noticed the camera there. Garcia must’ve been watching. I accounted that they’d get us on camera, noting that I initiated it and he resisted, but I didn’t anticipate having a live audience.

Before either of us could answer, Derek came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me, attempting to restrain me.

“First rule of fighting: never turn your back on your opponent.”

“Second rule: make sure you have the proper grip.” I clasped my hands together and brought both of my elbows down into his ribcage, then shot my hands up into his face. It pushed his weight slight backwards, and while he still had a pretty good hold on me, it faltered only for a second. But that was all the time I needed.

I pushed my arms against his while forcing my spine into his chest. It created even more wiggle room, enough that I could turn and face him. He grabbed my wrists, and I wrapped my hands around his in return. I tossed my whole body weight towards the ground while driving my heel into his shin, forcing his weight toward me. Before he could land on top of me though, I put my other foot up, centered on his torso, and flipped him clean over me. It was the second time I knocked the wind out of him, and I kipped-up to standing.

I could have easily kicked the shit out of him at this point, but the look of horror on sweet Penelope’s face stopped me from completely losing myself. Had I not looked away, I wouldn’t have been able to follow through on my plan. My plan to save Spencer. That’s what I was repeating over and over in my head, convincing myself this was the right thing to be doing.

I planted a single foot on top of his chest, and looked down at him.

“Why are you doing this?” he pleaded, but this time it was different. He was no longer asking me why, he knew why, he was now asking me why I thought this was the best solution.

“I have to.” It was the best, and really the only, explanation I had.

I heard Hotch approach us and I turned to him, drawing my gun.

He halted in his tracks, and Rossi and the ladies behind him gasped.

“Aundreya, what are you doing?”

“Cuff me.” It was a similar command to the one I gave to Derek only minutes earlier.

“You want me to cuff you?” Aaron confirmed.

I fired into the air, then tossed my gun toward him, watching it slide on the ground with a screech before being stopped by his rubber soles.

“It’s protocol. I’ve assaulted an FBI agent and I pulled my gun on you, even firing off a shot. Cuff me.”

He slowly continued his path to me, all the while pulling his cuffs from his pocket.

Derek stood up and helped restrain me as Hotch linked the cuffs behind me. He ushered me by the frozen agents, and it was like I could see the gears spinning in their heads.

Once he got me through the entry doors, he whispered, “There was a better way. We were going to solve it.”

I knew I could count on him to put it together that quickly. He always did do the best job reading me. “You still have to. This is only a temporary solution.”

“Why?”

I was getting really tired of that question. If I never heard it again it would be too soon.

Other security guards were rushing down to detain me and move me to a temporary jail before transferring me to a prison. I quickly said under my breath, “If I don’t, he’s going to be dead before the end of the week. Then we will never save him. Do me one favor, and get me transferred to the same prison.”

He nodded as he handed me off to a bunch of guards in white uniforms. I gave him one single nod before turning away, awaiting my new cell; my new home.

Part 2

Series Taglist (open)

@justanothetfangirl

@kris-stuff

@blameitonthenight21

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enduringsea · 3 years

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( rules: you can usually tell a lot about a person by the kind of music they listen to! put your music on shuffle and list the first 10 songs, then tag 10 people! no skipping! ) / tagged by @yellowcrumpet ╭( ･ㅂ･)و )))

Thanks for the tag! I LOVE these things-- I don’t rlly have a playlist either though, just a mess of music files on a device I haven’t updated so I’ll be checking my YouTube history too lol. There’s a uhhh.... pattern to be found, mainly relating to Code Vein or other OCs.... which isn’t surprising ._. ;; I made it a separate post bc I knew this was going to get long and rambly with lyric snippets and crying about fictional characters, sorry :D

1. Repeat Until Death - Novo Amor don’t go / you’re half of me now / but i’m hardly stood proud / i said it, almost oh i’ve been low / but damn it i bet it don’t show / it was heaven a moment ago oh i can’t seem to let myself leave you / but i can’t breathe anymore This one gives me Loubeth vibes ok, partially bad end route ;-; While Elizabeth is a very strong person, her friends are the most prominent reason she tries to do anything at all & isn’t living day-to-day in a monotonous grind to survive without a solid purpose other than ‘help random ppl bc it’s the right thing to do’. If she loses them, it’d ruin her & hammers into her head how everything she’s ever done has been a failure. She suffered a major betrayal by her boss before the Collapse, she was unable to fully participate in proj. queen despite her incredible test results, she failed to defeat Cruz and take her blood during Operation Queenslayer, and if she fails to protect the people she’s finally found meaning with? She’d break down completely & destroy herself to save them. She’s always had some level of abandonment issues, and without her family around it’s so much worse, even if it isn’t the most obvious because she’s generally seen as very well put together-- I really can’t express how much it would hurt her to lose Louis, Yakumo, and the others. She’s just not one to show just how bad it can truly get for her mentally and emotionally-- she’s resilient as hell, she’s been through hell repeatedly and survived it all, so it’s easy for others to assume she’s fine all things considered. It makes her feel weak and ashamed of herself if she shows any level of vulnerability, so she doesn’t; she swallows it down and is afraid of disappointing those who look up to her as a fighter and friend-- of course, no one at Home Base would blame her for being vulnerable, they all have their moments, Bethy just sets herself to such a high standard it’s difficult for her to talk about her own suffering in spite of how well-versed she is in getting her thoughts and feelings across otherwise. Louis is the one most keen to how deeply she’s hurting, but he doesn’t understand just how deeply until she finally does fall apart. The final swell of the song and its desperate lyrics really relays the pain they both feel-- Louis too would not fare well if something happened to Elizabeth, because he blames himself she was even involved in Operation Queenslayer for a long time, I honestly did so bad in explaining coherently, this song just has so much emotion and hurt behind it adklfjdfdff </3

2. Looking Out For You - Joy Again this is a love song for a girl who will never know it’s about her she's beaming that smile / all the while i’m all tripped up on my own throat i guess there is no hope This song reminds me of Elizabeth & my friend’s character Takashi Fujioka, who gets-- vERY...FRIENDZONED, for lack of a better word, by Elizabeth in his story, it’s really summed up best as tragic (;﹏;) Before the Collapse they were hitting it off, then the Collapse happened, they were separated, he lost his sisters, Mido happened, he was experimented on + became a revenant, etc, etc; years have passed since then & she’s gotten her life together as much as one can in a world like Vein, but for Takashi it’s like no time has passed at all. Elizabeth is subtly older in appearance, she’s been working w Lou & Co. for a long time; Loubeth blatantly have a connection, & rather than bringing up his feelings + making it awkward bc he values their friendships, he just kinda. chokes on them & does his best to help out the team. It doesn’t help he can’t even be jealous bc Louis is a really solid friend to him too, IT’S JUST A MESS OF A SITUATION & the death of what could have been if things were different.

3. Closer - Teagan And Sara ( no lengthy explanation for this one thank goodness, I’ve just been watching BoJack Horseman again and I really like some of the songs they add in, I like listening to this one on loop when mindlessly coloring something )

4. Brutal - Olivia Rodrigo all I did was try my best / this the kind of thanks I get? they say these are the golden years / but I wish I could disappear ego crush is so severe / god, it's brutal out here I have it on a playlist for Elizabeth somewhere, not all of it applies to her but it reflects some of her struggles she has both before & after the collapse. She’s-- always kind of been a mess while under immense pressure + has serious self image issues, this song hits that side of her well. She’s been held to humanly impossible standards by both herself and her family bc frankly? She can reach them, she’s NOT exactly human. She was born into her position as a hunter & intends to keep it for as long as she lives (like revenants, her kind is very much ‘either gets killed or lives 5ever), even if some days she really feels how heavy the burden can be. She didn’t have a normal childhood and she’s fine with it for the most part, but it alienates her from most of her peers-- she never got to date anyone, never had a close group of friends, never went to parties that weren’t formals, etc., while she feels a little childish about it, she does envy ‘normal’ and understands the pressure she’s lived under her entire life has caused damage-- she has been exploited for her abilities, there’s just not much she can do about it but to keep going, rlly.

5. Freaks - Surf Curse don't kill me / just help me run away from everyone i need a place to stay / where i can cover up my face don't cry / i am just a freak / i am just a freak UhhhHHH this song really makes me think of Oliver Collins :D;; thank TikTok for showing it to me. It makes me think of how scared he was, of both the world and the revenants who captured him. The song’s use of the word ‘parasites’ really makes me think of Revenants and the BOR parasites XD I’m hoping when I poke my video editor again, I can record some Oliver footage to make a short video to this song. Oliver deserves so much better, I wish you could save him, but that’s what AUs are for, hahah.... The second half of the lyrics make me think of the AU I have where he lives and has to grapple with the guilt of surviving and the things he did to other revenants to get by too.

6. All Eyes On Me - Bo Burnham you say the ocean’s rising / like i give a shit you say the whole world’s ending / honey it already did you’re not gonna slow it / heaven knows you tried got it? good / now get inside I haven’t seen the Netflix special yet but I’ve had this song on repeat since my move started. The lyrics hit too hard & resonate with my existential dread, covid exhaustion, and extreme burnout in my 20s, but bc I have Damage I can also relate it to CV ._. ‘you’re not gonna slow it, heaven knows you tried. got it? good now get inside’ makes me think of--;; the bad end route again, and Elizabeth’s desperation to keep her found family together. It’s not like her to completely stop caring about an issue, but in the moment she realizes what’s being taken from her? She doesn’t want to save all of revenant-kind if it means she’s going to wind up alone all over again, her world is effectively over if she’s forced to be alone again. The MC frenzying means the only immediately identifiable hope she had of saving everyone else is gone, so why not just go home? If they’re all doomed, she wants to at least be together for a little while longer, it’s fine if they use her blood to survive & everyone else in the mist is out of luck, it’s soul-crushing bc I’ve never had her in a situation where she’s been this reckless, despondent/hopeless, and thinking irrationally where it’d impact more than herself-- especially when she’s normally goal-oriented, organized, meticulous, so on so forth: she’s not one to act without thinking something through first, but that last breath of light just got sucker-punched out of her. All she wants is home, comfort, and family, and ultimately in the bad end route she does manage to preserve their lives, maintain the mist, and supply blood beads, but her own condition leaves her on the throne-- it’s a mix of the bad, neutral, and true ending rlly ldkfjdf BUT YEAH enough rambling on that :D;; This song’s really good and touches a lot of different thoughts and ideas both in real life and my ocs, kind of embarrassing--;; thank u bo burnham for ruining me with this beautiful song

7. Yellow - Coldplay look at the stars / look how they shine for you / and everything you do your skin / oh yeah, your skin and bones / turn in to something beautiful do you know / for you I'd bleed myself dry Does this song make me think about JackEva? Yes. Yes it does. Star / night sky symbolism? Bam. Sappy lyrics about love and finding the person you’re with absolutely mesmerizing and worth dying for? BAM. If JackEva were capable of using their own blood to save each other, I can see it-- hJNGn they just care about each other so much, Jack cries for her even though they both knew that eventually one of them would succumb to their duty, and if the roles were reversed I can see Eva doing the same, I adore them beyond human language. On my CV RP blog, my Jack’s not shippable bc-- Eva, my friend even have them looking after his nephew (an oc--) at one point. I should seriously drop some headcanons down eventually....

8. Louder Than Thunder - The Devil Wears Prada are we meant to be empty-handed? / i know i could, i could be better i don't think i deserve it / selflessness, find your way into my heart all stars could be brighter / all hearts could be warmer

LMFAO throwback to my middle school playlist, I’m old-- I’ve applied this song to a lot of things back in the day, but I really connect it to Loubeth now, especially Louis. Lou & Bethy are both functional idiots who are too hard on themselves & have trouble recognizing their worth beyond what they can do for others. They’re trying to be better-- to make up for what they perceived wrongs they’ve done, but it’s hard, they don’t believe they’re worthy of the love and support the other gives, but they still yearn for that sense of security. After Louis’ memories are returned, he finally understands the guilt he’s felt since he became a revenant and it really skews his self-perception; he blames himself for so many things & Elizabeth, who has always been able to kill when necessary, sets it straight-- “It’s not your fault”, and it takes Louis some time to properly absorb that message. He thinks she’s just trying to comfort him, which she is tbh, but she’s not wrong: “It’s not your fault you couldn’t kill someone. It was never your job to kill anyone.” It’s up to people like her to do those sort of things-- Elizabeth may not have been present when Cruz frenzied, but if she had been? It would have been over before it started, that’s something she has regrets over, even if nothing could have been done since she was already on the field. Actually, she’s actually really quite angry that security failed to monitor Cruz properly and has a few select words for the ones there who could have actually done something before it got out of hand-- civilians and doctors are exempt from her shtlist bc they’re not meant to be killers (so don’t worry Artorias, she’s not ready to bite your head off!), but they had to have some kinda security detail rite o-q??? They’re probably hiding from her wrath-- BUT ANYWAY, she insists she’ll never blame Louis for not being able to do something as serious as killing another person. He was a normal human being who cared about his friend, not a failure, and he couldn’t have been expected to do something that shouldn’t have fallen on his shoulders in the first place. As many times as it takes, she’ll reaffirm that it wasn’t his fault, she’s not angry, he’s always done his best and her opinion of him hasn’t changed. He’s a good person and she loves him through all the hurt, though she doesn’t drop the word ‘love’ for a long time. It just-- takes Louis a while to accept she views him as someone worthy of the love and respect she has for him. It’s kind of ironic she’s so adamant on Louis not blaming himself considering she’s the one privately blaming herself for-- wow there’s too much to unpack, she feels guilty she was even born?? im so broken over these two. I love them and yet they SUFFER...

9. What I’ve Done - Linkin Park i'll face myself / to cross out what i’ve become erase myself / and let go of what i’ve done today this ends / i'm forgiving what i’ve done

I have Louis Amamiya brainrot and I’m so glad I’m not the only one who thinks that this song fits him super well & it needs to become an AMV dsjfkldsfd. I’m a near life-long Linkin Park fan and this fits with Lou so well thematically. As much as I’ve gone on about Louis’ guilt, he does steel himself to keep going forward in spite of it and make things right, for everyone. Maybe it wasn’t really his fault, but at the end of the day his inability to kill Cruz in that moment left a disaster in its wake that got a countless number of people killed-- the MC included with Karen and Aurora. He doesn’t want to run away from the truth, doesn’t want to make excuses, he wants to take responsibility for it and he’ll work himself to death if it means things will be better-- it’s both admirable he’s got a strong resolve and VERY concerning with how willing he is to die for the cause, please don’t overdo it, Lou, you’ll break mine and Bethy’s hearts ._.;; It won’t always be easy, there are moments the grief gnaws at him, but in the end he does overcome it (and uh. as in the bad ending, we know he can actually do it this time). I know we can’t see everything, but I would have loved deeper character interactions, especially with Louis with an emphasis on grieving + forgiving himself properly-- but this song really is nice with the whole ‘I’m going to face my mistakes head on, forgive myself, and keep moving forward’. It’s what Louis deserves: self forgiveness and a damn break ‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚

10. Call of Silence - Hiroyuki Sawano you will know you're reborn tonight / must be rough but i’ll stay by your side even if my body's bleached to the bones / i don't want go through that ever again so cry no more / oh my beloved ngl idk if those are the correct lyrics, buuuuuuut....... im a weenie and am internally weeping abt loubeth after midnight, what else is new lmfao- i’ll at least try to be brief :D I also used to really like Attack on Titan when I was in high school, I dropped the anime years ago because I was waiting for s2 and never got back to it once it started airing again, I thought I’d finish it once the anime was complete since I eventually caught up with the manga, such a good series BUT ANYWAY-- I think it’s a really pretty song and Loubeth fit with the tender lyrics. IT’S LATE, idk what to say about them other than what I’ve said already dsklfjdslf im sorry I really ramble a LOT and I’ve been so busy lately I haven’t had the chance to >w>;;

#i do not know how 2 b quiet #long post #personal text #yellowcrumpet

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emilyartstudio-s · 4 years

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are you ever gonna finish that superhero comic you made on your instagram? loved that one btw

Hello hello! You’re talking about this one here for sure, right? :0 (Thank you so much ❤)

To lay things on the table; I’ve mentioned in my FAQ that this project has always been a fun project and I created it knowing it’d be fun to do but SO LONG to get to its conclusion. I made it for practice on my own comics for my Ocs which I am still writing (And will continue to write more this year 💀)

It’s my young self placing yet another curse on me working on a long ass project when I want to always move on to new things all the time because I get bored so easily OTL

A new update will maybe come out on May as I had mentioned in this ask here but keep in mind that it will continue to take long to update (Mostly because i’m still learning comic lay out and NOT MOVIE SCENE LAY OUT I’m so bad at those lmao I think everything is a story board OTL!) it might also not reach its conclusion and I've said I will bring the written script down to my grave if that happens;;; (But i’m also opening a patreon this summer so lets see how that goes)

The Hero comic will continue but at the same speed as I try getting better and indulge myself in new projects each time so that I can continue feeling okay with the work! I love creating and writing stories but I need to work on smaller projects to keep even myself entertained. Hope this answered yours and everyone else’s questions in regards to where the hero AU stands!!

#I'm not shortening this #I hope people read this luv #asks

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solastia · 4 years

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Author Interview : underthejoon

((If anyone wants to make a cool banner for this, please do. I suck at them))

Today is the debut of a new project. Whether it sticks around for long depends on you guys, but for now the plan is to interview one author a month. Creators are often underappreciated on here (or anywhere, for that matter), so this is me doing my part to connect our readers and writers in a meaningful way. Our first interview is with @underthejoon, someone whose work I myself have enjoyed for many years now. If you enjoyed this interview, please be sure to send in authors you’d like me to talk to for future editions, as well as any specific questions you’d like answered (except for questions about updating, that will get you a ban).

Where can your work be found?

I’m kind of a mess and so while I attempt to cross post, I’m not always great at it. All of my work can be found on my tumblr masterlist but some of my things are on Wattpad and AO3. I’m also underthejoon on both of those platforms.

Links to where readers can donate:

I made a ko-fi account ages ago that I never shared with the public because I’ve always felt guilty. Which is silly, idk why I do. But there it is!

Main bias (and why if you’d like)

So!! I have always been a Namjoon bias. From the very first time I saw them/the very first song I heard I was like yes, you. You are the one, I’m a goner!! He’s so wonderful and unique. He’s very mindful and creative and such a beacon of light to me. Plus, he’s very open with his humanity, if that makes sense? Like he is open about his therapy, his feelings about his perceived shortcomings, his excitement about finding place and things and works of art that inspire him. ALSO THOUGH, in the last year or so I’ve also become a Hoseok bias. He is just so dedicated and loving. He’s insanely talented and vastly underrated, in my opinion. And through all the back breaking work, he is kind through and through. He’s seriously just so warm and makes me really happy.

Hogwarts House :

Okay, the very first time I ever took it I was a slytherin. A few years later, I took it again and got hufflepuff. I like to think I’m a combination of the two but can see myself as more of a puff.

Describe yourself in five words:

Creative, Extroverted, Empathetic, Intuitive, Inquisitive

Current favorite BTS songs:

SO MANY, but I’ll pick 7 for 7 members. Some of these are old as hell but still currently my favorite lol. Love Maze, Love is Not Over, Outro: Her, Dimple, Tomorrow, Like, 2!3!

What was the defining moment when you decided, “Yes! I am going to write the thing!”?

For like fanfic in general? I feel like I had been reading a lot of it after “discovering” k-pop and then after a few months I was just like fuck it, I’m doing it!! I was always super into writing poetry and never thought I would be any good at anything like this but it sounded fun so here we are now.

What do you most enjoy about writing BTS fanfiction specifically?

I think it’s the community of writers. When I started my blog, I met a lot of really amazing supportive writers that I’ve managed to stay friends with and I think that makes a really big difference when you have people that can relate to you and what you’re doing.

Any tropes or au’s that you want to explore later?

I would really like to try writing some sort of supernatural creature fics. I’ve had this werewolf love triangle universe planned out forever that I would like to eventually write. Maybe like a workplace romance?

Which of your fics would you suggest for new readers?

For a completed series i’d say Piece by Piece. My WIP series, Love is Not Over is another one. For a one-shot I’d say, For You. Maybe the sweetness/make it right drabbles too.

Which of your fics is your favorite?

Piece by Piece, no doubt. I really feel proud of it and I have a hard time admitting I like anything I write.

What other fandoms do you wish you had the time to write for?

I used to write for EXO, Got7 and sometimes Monsta X and I miss it sometimes but also, I feel pretty contented in just writing for BTS. There’s a lot of inspiration there and I always felt I was being pulled in too many directions by my readers when I wrote for multiple fandoms.

What are your writing goals for the upcoming year?

I’d like to finish three series I have planned, get caught up on my collab fics and at least finish an outline for my original fiction piece I’ve been putting off!

Which writers do you read religiously?

There’s so many amazing writers on tumblr and I try as hard as I can to keep up with my mutuals when they put stuff out but sometimes it’s hard! I’m gonna be really brief because otherwise my list could go on and on. Okay, first and foremost, Shanna (@kpopfanfictrash) - she’s my best friend and a fabulous, wonderful writer. I would just like to give her a special shout out because not only does she entertain me for hours with her writing, she is very supportive of mine. Other authors I adore as humans and content creators and keep up with most regularly are @floralseokjin and @lamourche !

What is the weirdest thing you’ve had to google in the name of writing?

LOL. Hmm… I’m really boring and feel like I don’t really google that much when writing except maybe like different sex positions when i need a visual or synonyms to certain words. I’ve found some good porn though? Because visuals do help me.

Reader/OC fics within this fandom are often still looked down on and we all have to work hard to make them good enough for readers to look past their reputation. How do you combat the cringe?

TBH, I don’t think that responsibility lies on us as writers. If people don’t like certain types of writing, that’s on them and they can avoid it. Reader insert/oc fics are just as valid a genre as any. I’ve read some of the most beautiful, creative stories on this platform, some of which could be published if names were changed/reader was switched to a named OC. There’s something out there for everyone and it’s all subjective. While I might find certain things super cringey, others love it. To each their own as long as they aren’t shoving it in the faces of the people they’re writing about or being disrespectful, you know?

What is your personal guilty (or not-so-guilty) pleasure trope?

MUTUAL PINING/FRIENDS TO LOVERS. I feel like it’s so basic but I fucking love that trope and I think so many people do it so beautifully it is my absolute favorite.

What is something that you see often in other fanfics that drives you insane?

I think the only thing that really bothers me is when people romanticize abuse or other toxic/triggering topics.

Are any of the boys or ships more difficult for you to write than others?

I think I have the hardest time writing for Jimin and Taehyung but only because I feel I am the most similar to them and for whatever reason that deters me from writing about them often.

We all think we are the most hilarious person there is (even if we won’t admit it), so what is one line or scenario of yours that you like to go back to and giggle over?

Okay this was actually really difficult for me because I don’t write like any humor and don’t think I’m good at LOL. I think my only attempt at humorous writing was The New Guy in which the reader is high off her ass lying on the front lawn and thinking the world is ending then accusing Namjoon of being the Grim Reaper when he comes looking for her.

ONLY IF YOU WANT TO - A scenario as long or short as you want. Maybe 250 words or less. Godzilla is attacking the city and BTS is your rescue crew. How screwed are you?

“D-danger, you say?” Seokjin stutters.

“G-giant lizard monster headed this way?” Hoseok chokes.

The pair exchange glances then turn their focus towards you. Seokjin jerks his head towards the door and you nod in return.

“I hear what you’re saying, gentlemen,” Hoseok says as he stands on shaky legs. He grabs your hand as if to instruct you to do the same.

“And as much as we would LOVE to help you…” His grip is tighter now and you know what comes next.

Before he can finish, Seokjin shoots up from his chair and makes a mad dash towards the door. “Now, now, run, holy shit, NOW!”

Hoseok joins his friend in his haste to evacuate, dragging your nearly petrified form behind him. “No way in hell are we getting anywhere near that thing!”

Seokjin and Hoseok babble horrified nonsense between them but you can’t really decipher much of it. Your heart is pounding in your ears as you replay the name “Godzilla” in your brain.

They wanted you to rescue the city? What were they thinking?

When you reach Seokjin’s car, you have a brief moment of clarity. There are lives at stake, after all. How can you really just abandon the city when it needs a hero?

“What about everybody else?” you ask, voice small and fearful.

“Everybody else?” Seokjin huffs, putting the car in gear. He hardly gives your question a thought before he peels out of the parking lot. “Jungkook can handle everybody else. I raised him on my back, you know? It’s the least he can do!”

#bangtan bards #bts #bts writers #underthejoon #bts fanfic #bts authors #solastia #author interview

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sunshinexlollipops · 3 years

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Hello! Just wanted to stop by (hopefully not being a bother) and say I have recently just went through all of your red dead fics on ao3 and wow. I've gotten into a/b/o fics more after reading yours! But also your amidst fic made me feel all types of things, and I know however it ends will leave me messy with f e e l i n g s. And I want to prematurely thank you for those feelings xP. I was also wondering, if that's alright, how your writing process is like? You put in a lot of words in amidst and some of your other fics. Do you make outlines? Do you first write down ideas for a chapter/fic and then draft it out? Are there scenes you add/take out? Is there a length goal you usually set for yourself? You don't have to answer, but I wish you well and thank you for fics that brightened my life a little!

LONG POST!

omg, hello anon! your ask 100% got lost in my notifs, so I just wanna start this off by saying you aren't a bother whatsoever!

in fact: I love receiving asks about my fics, as well as opening up about the writing that takes to get them to you guys!

so I'm gonna start this reply off with a quick thank you about my works! I'm so happy you're enjoying or have enjoyed what I've written.

RDR2/Arthur Morgan is a pleasure to write about, but I've also really enjoyed the fandom. it's been one of the sweetest and most supportive, and I've found one of my best literary periods with you guys! so thank you! :>

but enough pitter patter about that-- let's get to the fun stuff!

since you had a few questions, I'm gonna answer these in a separated list so it'll be easy to follow along! :)

-------

What is your writing process like?

well, in truth anon, I don't exactly have much of one.

that may surprise some, and others not. in truth, I think that sometimes the idea or concept of a "writing process" kind of scares anyone trying to get into writing.

I'm not sure if you are, anon, but your questions just make me want to cover this, just in case.

writing should come to you how it comes. I'm definitely NOT a textbook writer. I don't have a method where I have cardinal rules and a set up I have to have.

I simply embrace when inspiration strikes. usually while listening to music or absorbing some other media. frankly, if you treat writing like a science, you're gonna get stuck. it isn't an issue you have to fix, or a challenge you have to tackle.

allow yourself to get comfortable and just think whatever comes your way mentally. even if you think an idea is bad, encourage it! you can't write if you don't let yourself think.

so for me, I suppose my "process" is just encouraging my writing and for my brain to pop out ideas or scenes. just write away and see where it takes you!

You use a lot of words-- do you outline by chance?

ah yes. I am a wordy potato, frankly. albeit ACW is an overall outlier at being ALMOST A MILLION WORDS. even then, I don't think any of my over fics have ever really gotten past 150k, and I believe only ONE had done so.

this was... not by design.

believe it or not, I intended ACW to actually be short. 6 chapters like the game and boom, done. I thought I could summarize everything and just show snippets of a growing relationship between Arthur and my unintentional OC, Wolf. it almost would've been like a one-shot just broken up into chapters for homage sake.

but then I overplotted the prologue and next thing I knew, ACW had become this massive, sprawling monster of a slow-burn.

as for outlines... I don't necessarily outline. I'll explain this more in my next response. :)

Do you write a summary of a chapter or fic down, then draft afterward?

so in terms of summary, no. these stories live in my head, and I tend to feel that writing things down is more of a waste of time for me.

my brain flies through stories at such quick speeds I feel like I will lose my spark or my ideas if I take a second to write things down.

I am known to do audio recordings where I talk about my writing though. this is an amazing way to brainstorm on the fly, and some of my best ideas have come from just voicing what I'd like to see happen aloud. additionally: the recordings are a good way to keep track of what I've said and want, just like an outline!

otherwise I don't outline. I'm not sure what the terminology is, but I apparently go after my stories a lot like Stephen King does.

write first, worry about the rest later. I'm very much a "swim and swim even if you're sinking" because I would rather put the work in than fool with floaties to keep myself up.

personally this works wonders for me, as I don't like restraining myself or my head once I'm in motion. it doesn't end well if I do-- like snuffing a candle. I just go for it and I will make sense of it later.

even so, I have general ideas for what I want to happen, and I remember my basic outlines. the details come later, as long as the big picture is visible to me.

as for ACW: the only "outlines" I did was timing of the game missions. just to make sure I didn't miss major happenings, and that I had the timing in a way that flowed for what I wanted both logically and narratively.

as for drafts, I also don't draft. again, I go for it. that being said, I have restarted updates a couple of times, or have deleted entire scenes out of dissatisfaction. most of the time though, it's one and done for me! and it's all done on the fly. :)

Are there scenes you add/remove?

as mentioned above, yes. I have deleted a lot of content from ACW. some ideas never came to, but more often than not, it was repackaged in a way I liked better. so if anything, content was recycled and you all still got to see it in some way.

but there are some things that I want to do that just aren't possible. like many stranger missions. there's no good way to include certain events or characters in ACW without derailing what is going on. so alas: aberdeen pig farm is not a stop on Arthur and Wolf's itinerary.

but for another example, I wanted to showcase more of Wolf's past with her father (specifically her shut in life before his death), and I wanted scenes and more examples of her being disconnected unlike everyone else as a result.

these will come as flashbacks or other scenes in the upcoming chapters, but I intend to add these changes or additions during my revisions! :>

Is there usually a length goal you set?

as for word goals, I never quite had any apart from "at least 20k words" just because that was usually my average, I noticed.

additionally, this made sure I didn't end chapters without putting the bare minimum of content in them, and to have solid continuity. can you imagine have a 20k update and then a 3k one? no thanks!

20k just became my running baseline, after that. otherwise, my limit is when AO3 reaches theirs for the character limit (fence why some updates were split into multiple pieces).

with my other stories, I simply write until the story is properly paced or finished: however long it takes!

---------

whew! what a post!

but I hoped that gave you some more insight, anon.

writing is crazy, and I'm always learning something new. more now than ever, since I'm looking into actually getting something original submitted for publication.

if you (or anyone reading this) are inspired to write yourself, don't be discouraged! writing is one of the most intensive forms of creation. it's not easy. it's not instant. it's a lot of passion and time, let alone a utilization of language and grammar fluency!

it's easy to feel overwhelmed or lost, or feel like it's better to not try than struggle to start. but I can assure, writing is such a splendid thing to do. write for enjoyment, or pleasure, or simply because you want to.

as long as your story isn't intended to be hateful, is your own work, and is fun for you to create... what else matters?

if you want some additional inspiration, just know that I started writing fic in 2012/2013 and have gone through so much in my near TEN YEARS of fic writing. I've learned a lot, and I've grown so much!

be proud of yourself no matter where you are at and start from, and pride yourself in your progress or beginnings.

just go for it! you may surprise yourself!

hope you're having a good one, anon. and thanks for the ask! :)

#luffy asks #anon #fic writing #writing advice #acw #amidst a clash of worlds #luffy posts #long post

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omegafrisk · 4 years

Text

omegafrisk is om-over-frisk, apologies, and unreleased stuff

i want to preface this by saying that every time i admit to a mistake i get people trying to minimise it. if you’re getting ready to do that, please don’t. it makes me feel terrible. even if you don’t agree with how i feel, i violated my own morals, and that means a lot to me!

so, omegafrisk is definitely over. it’s partially that i was in a bad bad place when i started this comic and it’s always gonna be tied to that for me, partially that i’ve just become a much better writer since then and i’d have to reboot the whole thing to be satisfied with it, and partially just that i’m not into undertale enough to make a whole comic anymore.

and speaking of being in a bad place: letting that bleed through into my writing is what i want to apologise for. i’ve come to realise i was a victim of grooming when i started this comic (and as i continued to write it). it messed me up, and i wrote messed up stuff because i just didn’t know better. the child gore, the flippant use of suicide, the extremely inappropriate jokes about kids, probably other stuff i don’t remember - it all disgusts me now. i’m so sorry i put that out into the world and that it took me so long to address it.

i thought about password protecting this blog and shutting it down altogether, but i’ve decided i won’t do that. after wrestling with tumblr a bit i think i’ve deleted the worst stuff, but if you think there’s anything else i should get rid of please bring it to my attention through IM, or through the submit box if you’re shy (you can submit anonymously if you log out).

again, don’t defend me. if you don’t agree keep it to yourself. i will block you if you try to minimise this.

heavy stuff out of the way, onto the content, which i’m sure most of you are much more interested in.

ABOUT THE STORY

i thought about releasing my entire plot outline, but... it sucks. that thing predates mad mew mew. it’s terrible. there’s barely even any detail. whatever you’ve come up with yourself is more interesting.

i do have plenty of stuff to share though! this summary got long as hell, so the rest is going under a cut.

since it’s so long, i’ll put the one thing i am mostly happy with here (obviously sui/child death implications):

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1modE5IQiwNIwRPHBBkwADAEbPttbpIzJBWFaBZlvYHY/edit?usp=sharing

this is the script for an ask i was planning for ages. first written in 2016 apparently?? with the help of the fantastic emouse. it’s a look on what was going on in the original timeline while frisk and chara were off gallivanting through spacetime.

the one thing i’m not pleased with is i don’t think it’s totally ic for flowey to start resetting again. i left it in though ‘cause i don’t feel like updating it.

another thing i’ll leave you is the playlist of instrumental themes i collected for chara and frisk, which i don’t think i ever released. this must also be from about 2016.

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLVSr-S6q61wCF5IFuBO2Ipl0Nb-u3r4xo

it starts out with frisk’s themes, life/universe and high score are shared themes, and after that chara’s themes begin.

summaries of the rest of the event and the ending under the cut!

A WRINKLE IN TIME

i can at least summarise the rest of the event i had planned. mettaton was about to turn the tables on everyone by having a camera crew burst through the ceiling (which were gonna be some people’s cameo’d ocs). he’d broadcast the debate over who got the soul live to try and bully everyone into giving him it. he had some fair points - he’s the only one of them that’s literally indestructible (at least to monsters and small children) - but both asgore and undyne were determined that they would be the ones to take it.

flowey would then pop up with his own plan. he’d kill everyone in the room except for charadyne (and mettaton just because, again, indestructible to magic). it would’ve been a cool little animation that scrolled past everyone’s shocked faces as bullets appeared behind them with that jarring sound effect they have in game, then cut to black with a cacophony of them all turning to dust.

this was all to force charadyne to load their save. he thought they’d be able to load to before undyne absorbed chara’s soul, which would be impossible as that moment would’ve been undyne’s first save point. (i’m only now realising the hole in this - surely he would’ve known that after his fusion with chara? but wait, he didn’t know about resets until he was revived, can beasts just not save? fucking undertale man)

regardless, chara and undyne would try to reset to, in chara’s words, “the last time you were... filled with... determination”. i wanted to do an animatic to half of [this song]. sweet chimes as undyne rifles back through her memories for that moment, building up to her getting ready - a blast of sound as it rips the timeline to shreds.

chara’s soul is so fragmented, only exacerbated by being in a foreign timeline, that they can’t reset properly. i was thinking of styling the catastrophic glitch that resulted after an undertale corruption because those things scare the shit out of me and also can be fucking hilarious. love me some comedic horror.

chara and undyne would eventually figure out they had to leave the timeline and manually straighten it out. because it was knotted. it was wr. there was a wrinkle. in the timeline. a wrinkle in time. because the event is called. it’s c. a wrinkle in time

that’s where i was hazy on details - you can see just how much was made up as i went along. somehow, they’d be separated, and undyne would have left enough dt in chara’s soul that they’d be able to go down to the human village and yoink some souls from the mausoleum there. (i had worldbuilding stuff around that - the soul jars used in the underground are based off what humans use for burial in general. burying your body in a grave = having your soul stored in a mausoleum. there’d also be equivalents to cremation and such)

i hadn’t really thought much about that - the actual idea was that chara would find their old house and we’d get a flashback sequence about their backstory (eugh, glad i didn’t get around to that). and then, idk, the mausoleum would be empty or something? i didn’t think about what might happen if they were actually able to get all those souls. that is to say, i didn’t think about the story implications - i totally thought about chara becoming a cool shapeshifting rainbow beast because i’m like that.

THE ENDING

rest assured there was gonna be a happy ending. chara and frisk were gonna have a big cool battle bursting through various timelines where frisk tried to talk chara down and chara tried to kick frisk’s ass. at the end, frisk would’ve given up and let chara kill them. but chara wouldn’t have been able to. as viciously as they attacked, they could only do a single point of damage - they and frisk are both made of magic now, and magic works on emotion, and chara cannot truly hate frisk enough to end their life.

so they would’ve made up, broken the barrier in their original timeline together, and lived happily ever after with no more resets.

i remember daydreaming an animatic of the two of them trying to break the barrier, stumbling a few times and gradually achieving synchrony, to [this song].

you might notice i don’t mention flowey here. i was kind of struggling to figure out what to do with everyone else in regards to like, actual methods of character development. i had some ideas about chara bringing wrinkle-in-time flowey along with them on their adventures and him somehow getting his memories spliced with og-timeline flowey’s near the end but didn’t really think them through.

here’s a shittily-sketched old concept of what i might’ve done with him though:

not exactly my most beautiful work but it’s all you’re getting. it’s just visual notes, so i didn’t think it through much.

i daydreamed a lot about a cute ending animatic to [this song]. i don’t remember my thoughts well enough to summarise, but i hope you can come up with something cute yourselves!

aaand that’s all for this post. thanks for reading!

#ooc

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shodansbabygirl · 3 years

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3, 8, 18, 25 from end-of-year asks pls 🥺<3

Favorite musical artist / group you started listening to this year?

Oh man i can’t even think of who I started to listen to this yeah uh. I also don’t really listen to albums fully, I have internet brain rot even for my music so I just listen to my discover weekly on spotify and add songs I like individually. I did start listening to Adia Victoria this year and I love her stuff! Also been getting into The Crane Wives because Tongues & Teeth slaps.

Game of the year?

So I’ve really fallen off the horse when it comes to gaming, like, I used to be a MOBA player and an MMO kind of person but I haven’t looked at either of those in like, years. (But if anyone else likes DDO hmu I’ll DL it again.)

This year I didn’t really do a lot of gaming or buying games? I got the itch.io BLM bundle which has some fucking Gems in it, and since it’s so big and so many games I’m gonna just list my favorites from it off? Since I know a lot of people I know bought it but haven’t really dug into it (And I really haven’t either if we’re being honest.)

If you like typing games and old school first person 3D, I loved Backspace Bouken. It’s a great typing game and those are honestly so hard to find, which sucks because they’re my favorite of anything, because I fucking love typing. It’s got a cool mechanic where you have a limited number of spaces and you have to collect more from writing in the world, so it encourages very full exploration of it’s maps. And I like to kill skeletons by typing their panicked screams back at them. It’s great, give it a shot.

And so I don’t write an essay I have one more to recommend, and that’s Secret Little Haven. It’s played through a virtual OS and you play as a young trans girl in the 90s. It can be pretty triggering though, considering it is also about abuse. It’s really good, just like, brace for its triggering content.

A memorable meal this year?

Probably my solstice dinner! I put a lot of effort and planning into it since my friends were coming over, and it turned out amazing. And I really want to roast turkey thighs constantly now. I made Roast turkey thighs and sweet potatoes and squash, stuffing, potatoes, gravy, and it was great! IT was the first like big holiday meal I’ve ever prepared myself and I’m very proud of it. And I absolutely have to roast more turkey thighs with sage butter. The only thing I’d do differently is I would Absolutely brine the turkey thighs.

Did you create any characters (in games, art, or writing) this year? Describe one

Oh holy shit batten down the hatches someone is asking about my fucking OCs holy shit I didn’t think this day would ever come.

I got back into roleplaying and even doing my own fiction writing this year and it’s been amazing, even though I have absolutely nothing to show off publicly because I am DEEPLY insecure about my writing. So yeah I made characters. I made a lot of them.

They’re all lesbians. Because I cannot be asked to write anyone else and no one can make me.

But my favorite OC I’ve made this year is *probably* my revamp of my old OC, Dotty (If any of my followers have been following me since before I remade 6 years ago you might vaguely remember that I used to be Steampowereddotty, well I brought her back and this time she’s not a fandom OC because I have become impossibly powerful.) Taking an OC that I really loved when I made her as a teen and like, updating her with all I’ve learned about myself has been absolutely incredible.

Anyway Dotty is a high femme lesbian and personal chef and, like one of my only OCs that gets to be bougie and isn’t a mouthpiece for my complaints about the violence of poverty. She’s beautiful and I love her because I love having an OC that lets me write an outfit description that HAS to be a paragraph long because she is wearing so much so intentionally. I could probably do a lot more talking about her but the shame of being known creatively compels me to shut up.

#ask games #anarcho-mom-unist

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corvidry · 4 years

Text

All About RP Icons For Beginners by Birdy

Hi OP, I’m not sure how experienced you are with all the nonsense surrounding the making and using of RP icons, so I’m gonna come at it as though you don’t have any experience with it at all and I’m sorry if that’s too simplified for you, but also if I’m gonna write many paragraphs about one topic I may as well make it accessible for as many people as possible ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

This post goes into what tools are out there for the popular methods of finding/making RP icons in the first half and my personal methodology for choosing and using them in my RP for the second half. This is a very surface level answer to the question and is not meant to be an in depth tutorial for the more labor intensive aspects of the process, but if you guys want more information and can’t find it elsewhere, please ask and I'll know what I should be talking about next.

Also I’m also contractually obligated to mention to the masses that I do take commissions both for the drawing of RP icons and the service of capping, cutting, recoloring, and framing canon icons. Sometimes I even post batches of canon character icons for free on this blog so like,,,,, hit me up if you want. But!! You don’t need me, you can absolutely do all of it yourself!! I go into the broad strokes below.

Question 1: “How do you get icons?”

This is kind of a broad question and the answer depends on what your needs are. The right answer for you is gonna live in one of two camps

Find some that already exist that are free to use

Make them yourself / commission somebody else to make them for you.

What you'll choose is gonna depend a lot on your character first and foremost. The big determining factor in most cases is whether or not the face you want has been in anything you can take pictures of.

If you have a canon character who exists in visible media--

--you're in luck! The chances of you finding some resources that exist already is higher when you have a canon character who is in at least a few pieces of media. OP asked about Pearl from Steven Universe, and she's a great example of a character with a lot of resources. Searching for rp icons of a popular character will often yield packs of icons on Tumblr, Dreamwidth, Livejournal, etc. Most of these will be completely free to use or have very reasonable conditions for use (like credit the person who made them for example.) It's often a good first step to see what preexisting resources are available to you even if you still plan on making your own icons.

If you have an OC or a character that's not all that popular--

--you're gonna fall into the second camp. If you want icons, you have to have them made. So what are your options?

Help! My character appears in no media! What are my options?

If your character appears in no media you're in a tough spot. Different people approach this problem in different ways.

Face Claims

One option you have is to choose a face claim to represent your character. In roleplay a face claim or ‘FC’ is a person or character whose appearance you use for the physical description of your character. I personally am not big on doing this, I prefer drawn icons and I tend to RP as animated characters, but some people really like using celebrities and stuff to represent their characters. When I was playing Angus McDonald he hadn't appeared in any visual media yet, so I sometimes used Bryce Clyde Jenkins as the face claim for certain types of threads.

If you're somebody who likes to use face claims there are loads of resources out there for finding the perfect one, including here on tumblr. Try searching up RP Faceclaim Directory and playing around with some of the ones that pop up.

DIY RP Icons

The other option you have is to create those icons from scratch. Draw them yourself based on icons you like or commission an artist to draw some for you. If you can't draw yourself, I've seen some people get really creative with this. Some people create their character in the sims, dollmakers, or their favorite RPG and then take screenshots of that to use for icons. There's also no law that says every icon you use has to be your character's face. When I was writing a trashy mermaid AU I got a lot of mileage out of icons that depicted harbor and oceanic scenes with no actual faces. Get creative, go nuts, have fun.

Icons Aren’t That Important

The other thing to remember that icons are not a must in many RP circles. It's perfectly possible to have a great time and write cool stuff without any pictures at all. Depending on your platform of choice there are probably also other interesting ways you can make your posts unique to you by formatting the text or using symbols or emojis or otherwise denoting your personal style in text.

Help! My character appears in lots of media! How do I make icons?

Again, there are a million and one answers to this question and it really depends on what tools are available to you and what your preferences are. This section is not a tutorial but it will outline some of the options you can look into.

The icon making process is typically in 2 stages-- stage 1: get all your images of your character, and stage 2: edit all of those images into icons.

If you have access to the source material, any version of Photoshop, and software that automates the collection screencaps from video (KM Player, VLC, etc) you're pretty much gucci. You're gonna have no problem getting loads of nice icons in a reasonably short amount of time and there are a million different tutorials on how to use those things whichever way you prefer.

If you don't have access to those things you still have options.

You can still screencap things manually, and you can screencap in batches by holding down the windows key and pressing PrtSc any time you want to save an image. They should be saving to >pictures>screenshots unless you’ve set things up differently. It’s a good way to take a lot of screenshots without stopping in between.

( EDIT / UPDATE: to say that if you use automation for taking screencaps remember to turn that shit off when you’re not using because it oh mylanta it WILL continue to take images without you realizing. Figured out where all my disk space has been going with this rookie mistake, thanks OP)

Additionally, PhotoScape X is a really great little tool for windows and mac that I've never seen anybody talk about, but I use it sometimes and it's totally free with the exception of a few paid features I’ve never once needed or wanted. This program is not as efficient as using Photoshop but it has presets for cropping images easily as well as batch editing options for some basic borders and color retouching. While it’s not as powerful as Photoshop, you can get a lot done with it reasonably quickly compared to other choices. You can also take and edit snips of anything on your screen with it, which is really really useful if you don’t have access to the video or image files you would need on your hard drive for other version of this process. The program looks like this:

Also, not to be like a minimalist about it, but you can also just fucken use Microsoft Paint or whatever you have. Like, whatever, there’s no law. You graphics dont have to be comlpex or deep fried. Half of my icons have been made or edited in paint at some point. It wont be as fast as some of these other methods but a lot of us aren't out here making icons in batches of 100 at a time.

Anything that you can use to make smallish images of your characters face will work to make icons.

If you want more information about any of these methods of icon creation let me know and I’ll talk about them.

Question 2: “How do you make your icons ‘work’ in posts?”

I'm a little confused on what you mean by "make them work" so I'm gonna cover my bases here. I'm assuming what you're getting at is a sort of sense of cohesion in the icons I use, or having the "right" expression for the scene I'm writing. Either that or them not stretching and looking weird thanks to tumblr. I’ll get to both of those.

And before I go into my own rationale for icon choices I feel I should point out that a lot of people who aren't me do successfully manufacture cohesion out of their images by doing fun stylistic things like recoloring their images all the same way or putting cute borders and stuff around them or making them fun shapes, and that's totally something you can learn how to do if it interests you. I do this for icons commissioned by other people and I’m not against talking about how to do those things, but I don’t really bother with them for my own icons all that much. That stuff is all fun and it’s a neat thing you could get into that can make your icons all look really nice together.

BUT ANYWAY --

Since the character you asked about is Pearl, I’m going to focus on her. Nearly all of my Pearl icons are completely unedited and a lot of the credit I would have to give regarding icon quality goes to Pearl herself and the consistently good lighting that the show uses. I don’t have a huge need for editing or color retouching beyond making memes or whatever other goofy things I might be getting up to. Pearl is extremely expressive compared to other characters I have written and since she's in nearly every episode, I've managed to collect…

...oh god, that’s too many icons.

Pearl is a main character and I've been RPing as her for over 6 years now so I have a fuckload of images to choose from and I'm not gonna pretend that doesn't help when I wanna “make things work”. She gives me a lot of options.

That said, you absolutely don't need 3000 images to make a good post. The way I've collected and organized these images may be of use to you even if you dont have as many icons. I've done a lot with my setup to make finding the right icon very easy.

For starters, a minor subset of my Pearl icons are grouped by a particular defining feature. I have one large Pearly folder full of icons and then a few smaller folders inside for icons I thought worth grouping separately. For example, all icons of SUF Pearl in her new jacket are in the same folder. All icons of Pearl in short term alternate outfits are in the same folder. Anything I sourced from Attack the Light is in its own folder. I do this with anything that has a very specific use, such as writing AU content or flashbacks to specific time periods. If I can picture an icon in my head, I usually know where in my ridiculous hell collection to go to find it.

This folder was originally just for her pre-canon outfit but now all of her outfits that only appeared temporarily are in there.

Perhaps more important for the sake of cohesion is that nearly all of my icons that aren’t squirreled away in some smaller folder are loosely arranged by episode. What that means is that most of the time I have icons from the same scene right next to one another. It makes it incredibly easy to make my RP replies appear as though it's all one cohesive scene even if I use more than one icon. When you do it this way it becomes very easy to choose icons that have the same lighting or that appear to lead from one expression seamlessly into another. Exhibit A:

While the vast majority of my icons are numbered, I do take the time to name ones I find myself using a lot or that have particularly unique expressions. Usually I'll choose names that I'll find descriptive or easy to remember based on the context of the icon. You can have a lot of fun with that and never lose your favorites.

Also don't be afraid to lean on icons you got from weird places if you like them. The icons of Pearl from the official comics run don’t look like most of what I have. I think them being different would turn a lot of RPers off, but I use them a lot because I like the style and I almost never see other Pearl RPers using them. It either makes me stand out or it makes me tacky, one of the two, haven’t figured out which, but also I’m not stopping.

And just to reiterate, you can use icons that aren’t your character if they’re thematically relevant or vague enough to look like them. When I’m capping I’ve started saving a folder of miscellaneous environments of interests, hands, and other everyday types of scenery that appear in the thing I’m taking screencaps of.

You can use any size you want for RP icons but the most common is 100x100 or 150x150 pixels. Any smaller than that and the image gets to be difficult to read and work with in my opinion. That doesn’t stop people, of course, but I’m elderly and need glasses now, so no tiny icons for me. On that note, I rarely see RP icons larger than 300x300. Any larger than that it tends to get bulky and be in the way of other people’s comfortable internet browsing experience, especially on mobile. Of course, these are just my suggestions. What you choose will ultimately be up to you, but somewhere in that 100 to 300 px range is pretty safe.

A very tumblr specific thing to know is that any image that is wider than 300 pixels will be stretched to hell, so you probably want to keep it smaller than that.

Thanks, Tumblr, I hate it!

Also, don’t be afraid to make trash images for fun if you’re so inclined. People love that, or at least I do. Not having the right icon can be fun and lead to a very silly solution. Lean into being a shitposter if that’s what you’re called to do.

So yeah, that’s basically what my suggestions are. Collect your images in a way that helps cohesion and ease of use. Keep them a good size. Don’t be afraid to get unconventional with your choices or make memes or whatever. It’s all for a fun time.

Anyway, that’s all I can think of right now, but more info on any of this can be obtained at the price of one ask, I know it was a lot of different moving parts.

#rp #rp icons #birdy answers #my graphics #my icons #long post

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