#daisytachi

[no-goodbyes-no-regrets]

Whoa I left a few hours and everyone is so excited, it's nice. Would you love to see Robert being involved in the Sarah's storyline because of her cancer?

I know! it's so nice to have the gang back together!

And yeah I'd like him to be involved in her story! Maybe because they both feel isolated from the family. Sarah because everyone is busy with Nate, Rob because Vic and Aaron are fawning over fauxbert - and they kind of help/support each other.

[damnitiloveyou]

I feel like they aren't interested at all in positives stories or any stories who aren't Dingles related. They can do so much with Vic. Maybe she would wants to creat her own restaurant like she used to, maybe she would want to buy the store idk, maybe a story with Harry being idk deaf or having some trouble to speak (since it's an actual question many parents have because of technology). They can do so much but nope.

That's true, but it's true of most of the characters. They could write decent storylines for most of them, but it would require effort and that's not something they've shown any inclination to do. Vic hasn't been a decent character for almost a decade now, and the fact that that is an actual sentence I just had to write is asinine. This group isn't to blame for that but they're not capable of writing her out of it either. The Dingle problem has been an ongoing and increasing issue for years and years now, but the show has lots of other dead weight. There are several non Dingle characters that they need to lose as well. They need a fresh start all the way around. New producers, new writers and several cast cuts. They also need to stop bringing back characters who ran out of story purpose prior to their previous exit. Seriously what are Ross and Joe going to accomplish? Ross has no reason at all for being there, and they had no idea what to do with Joe during his first stint, that's not going to magically change in their second round with him. It's frustrating and maddening because there are ways to fix the show but no one seems willing to do any of them.

[doortotomorrow]

Do you have headcanons for the Scream's characters and for the Outpost's characters?

Why yes, I do, and thanks for asking!

Scream (since I haven't seen 4 or 5 yet, these could be easily canon divergent.)

Gale Weathers, wanting to add more credence to her reporting career, begins a docuseries exposing corruption in the entertainment industry after her run in with Roman and Milton.

Sidney goes back to school to get a degree in criminal psychology, hoping to become a consultant to the police in order to help them prevent more killings.

The final movie in the series will resurrect Billy from the dead(they've yet to do the resurrection trope!), and he and Sid will have one final showdown to end it all.

The Outpost (all post finale!)

Post!Series finale, Zed and Luna, after a long period of flirting with each other during their meetings with the royals, end up in a relationship together.

Talon gives birth to twin boys and they're named Cedric and Sai-Vek, honoring the memory of her father and Garret's.

When a fighting tournament is held, Munt joins into the fray, becoming the victor. In his excitement, he accidentally proposes to Warlita, and is very pleased when she agrees to it.

[zoadgo]

Memori +29. Sorry, I send you an ask with "memori +26" but I meant 29 lol.

so i just reinstalled xkit and uh, this ask is from four years ago, fun facts. this fill in canon compliant ish with s7

Disclaimer: I’m just going through my inbox to write some drabbles and try to get back into doing fan fic. I think I know which prompt lists most of these were from, but I might be wrong. All of these are several years old tho, so idk. All drabbles are unedited and prone to many typos, sorry my dudes

29. Cooking Together

Emori wakes up alone in the bed she shares with Murphy, which isn’t that strange these days. He’s woken up before her for as long as she’s known him, even though Emori doesn’t exactly sleep in. But it used to be that even though he was awake, he would spend indulgent hours curled up against her, and Emori would wake up with him stroking her hair, staring off into the distance, awake but still content to relax. 

Nowadays, he doesn’t seem to relax very much at all.

Emori sighs to herself, slowly rolling out of bed and throwing on some soft clothes to go track down her lover. Chances are, whatever he’s doing, he could use her help. Or, at the very least, her company. He never likes to ask for it, never wants to disturb her, but there’s honestly nowhere she’d rather be in their new world than by his side.

The farmhouse is quiet, the sun just barely having risen, most of their kru still asleep or just starting to rise. Emori passes a bleary eyed Raven, given her a brief nod and a smile that the mechanic vaguely grunts in response to. Hard to tell if she’s getting up early in order to work on a new project, or if she’s just heading to sleep after staying up all night. 

Indra is, of course, already awake and sitting sternly in the living room, looking out the window. Emori isn’t exactly sure when she sleeps, if she does at all. It certainly seems like she’s always around, hovering and ready to shut down any less that perfect ideas. Which Emori doesn’t mind, honestly. Sometimes it can be hard to remember, in their idyllic little oasis, how real the dangers of their new world are.

She doesn’t try to strike up a conversation with her, simply passing by without comment on her search. She hears vague noises of habitation coming from the kitchen, makes her way there with soft footsteps to investigate. 

The early morning sun streams through the windows, pale gold, painting everything like a fantasy. Emori pauses just inside the kitchen and drinks in the scene, storing it carefully in her mind. Because there’s Murphy, smiling softly to himself as he pours something in a pan, a pot of coffee sitting on the counter, the smell of breakfast weaving through the air. It’s beautiful, a balm on any unease she might have felt when waking up alone. 

She realizes, as she steps into the kitchen properly, it’s been a long time since she’s seen him cook. There were other priorities, of course, and when they were working with the Primes they were served truly delicious food, but watching him cook stirs memories of Earth within her. Of the first night he cooked for her, how he lit up when she complimented him, of her showing him more herbs than he had learned about on the Ark, how he took to it all and every time he fed her it was more delicious than the last. How she got to brag about him when Clarke was surprised at how good his cooking was. All those days, when they were on their own, and she would sit and sharpen their weapons while he roasted something over the fire, and there was laughter and smiles and peace.

Emori can’t help but smile, sneaking across the room as quietly as she can, spotting dishes he’s already finished cooking, set on towels and just waiting for people to eat them. There’s some kind of meat frying in thin strips, what looks like fresh baked bread in a basket, the aforementioned pot of coffee, along with a carafe of juice, and a few other covered bowls. Emori hums happily, announcing herself subtly right before she reaches Murphy, wrapping her arms around him in a gentle embrace.

“Good morning.” She hooks her chin over his shoulder to look down at what looks like an omelette he’s tending to. Murphy turns his head slightly to look at her, and his smile only grows. He doesn’t look as haunted today as he did yesterday, and while she knows that might not hold, it still blooms a warm joy in her chest.

“Morning,” he replies easily, pressing a soft kiss to her temple briefly. 

“Need any help?” Emori offers, even though her help is usually limited to moral support. She supposes she can also pass him ingredients, but they both agreed long ago that it’s better for everyone if she’s a more hands off kind of person when it comes to cooking.

“Set out plates and cutlery?” Murphy asks, and Emori can do that. She nods, kissing the back of his shoulder before releasing him to rummage through the cupboards. It only takes a minutes or two to set out stacks for everyone, and when that’s done she decides to clean some of the prep dishes Murphy used. 

It’s quiet, just the two of them, the sizzling of food in pans, and the soft sounds of water and scrubbing. Vaguely, Emori can hear doors elsewhere in the house open and close, and she can hear at least one shower running. But for the moment, as far as she’s concerned, it’s just her and Murphy, and she can’t stop stealing glances at him, watching him solemnly focusing on folding his omelette perfectly. 

This is it, this is what she’s always wanted with him. No matter what they’ve been through, what mistakes they - well, to be honest, far more Murphy than her - have made. Every battle fought at his side, every fight, every struggle, it’s all for this. For the smell of coffee and eggs, and the golden morning light, and him stretching slowly after he sets the last piece of the meal on the table.

Emori sets aside her washing for the moment to stand beside him as Murphy looks over his meal with obvious pride. He casually puts and arm around her shoulder, and it’s right. This is how it should be, and even though she knows it won’t last forever, Emori indulges in it for now.

There’s nothing that needs to be said, because she knows he feels it to. That they should have this forever, that this is the very the least the universe owes them for all they’ve been through. And even though it doesn’t need to be said, she says it anyway.

“I love you.” It’s a quiet statement, a breath into the perfect moment. The arm around her shoulders tightens, and Murphy rests his head against hers.

“I love you too.”

It goes without saying, but still, it’s nice to hear. And then Indra comes in to get her coffee, and Raven heaps a plate with food, becoming more animated as she devours it, and soon all of their family is there and it is all the more sweeter for it. Emori is happy, and next to her, for the first time in a long time, she’s pretty sure she feels Murphy relax.

[searchforthescars]

Litany - Ch. 12/12

IT’S FINALLY HERE BABEY

okay pls stick around until the end bc I talk about Things and get sappy about this fic but @bombshellsandbluebells thank you thank you for editing this and loving this and not judging me for flinging chapters that only make a little sense into the void (this is what I get for not doing an outline lmao). I’m v blessed to have you in my life

@maelidpoetree , @sarcasticdebate , you guys have written such LOVELY reviews that I still re-read and get emotional about to this day. Thank you for that, and also for convincing me to not delete Litany those two times. Much much much love

And to everyone else who has loved, read, MADE PLAYLISTS AND EDITS FOR (omg) and supported this fic, thank you. I’m always astounded at the responses to things I write. It’s humbling. <3

(the fic is also on ao3)

I have told you where I’m coming from, so put it together. We clutch our bellies and roll on the floor . . . When I say this, it should mean laughter, not poison. I want more applesauce. I want more seats reserved for heroes. Dear Forgiveness, I saved a plate for you. Quit milling around the yard and come inside.

Emori’s glass ornament catches the light from her window and casts beams of cool sunshine in fractures on the hallway wall. Murphy follows those beams to her doorway late on Christmas morning.

He watches as her smaller fingers caress the small delicate etchings there and smiles when he sees the fingers on her larger hand peeking out from the sleeve of her red and green sweater. She doesn’t cover it that often now, and he’s glad; his deep affection for the appendage has never wavered, and he likes seeing it out in the open every now and again, a sign of the comfort she’s found here.

Murphy watches her for another moment before knocking on her open door. She turns. Her hair is messy. She’s wearing the most hideous Christmas sweater he’s ever seen - bright red and green with tiny ornaments hooked into the neckline. He doesn’t have to touch her skin to know it’s warm, from both sleep and sun, and maybe some excitement too, if her flushed cheeks are telling the truth.

“Merry Christmas,” she says softly, a hesitant smile wrinkling the corner of her mouth. “Like my sweater?”

Murphy can’t help but laugh. “It’s...something.”

“Jasper gave it to me,” she says by way of explanation. “He, Monty and Octavia have matching ones.”

“Of course they do,” he grumbles, imagining the look on Raven’s face when she sees, and how Bellamy’s probably going to bust a nut. He must smirk at the thought, because Emori snorts and gives him a tiny smile. “What?”

“Nothing.” She shakes her head. Her hair swishes around her face, and a few strands of it catch on the ornaments on her neckline. “Damn, that’s going to get annoying.”

“Here, let me,” he says, reaching for her hair at the same time she does. Her hands fall back into place as she lets him smooth the hair back.

“Thanks,” she murmurs. Her eyes flick down to his mouth, then back up again. He thinks about saying thought that was my move, but bites his tongue, knowing he might get sucker-punched for it. He’s still not sure where they stand with one another, not after what he did and said, or after their small reconciliation the day after Thanksgiving.

She grins up at him, and suddenly it doesn’t matter. “Hey,” she says conspiratorially, “want to pull a prank?”

Of course he does.

They sneak downstairs and quietly divest the space under the tree of every gift underneath. They hide each wrapped package somewhere in the house; the more obscure, the better. Murphy is immensely proud of himself for thinking to hide his gift to Bellamy on the roof, right behind the chimney, and Raven’s in the oven.

“I hid Monty’s inside the couch,” Emori whispers to him as they scamper back up the stairs. Her eyes are shining with mischief. Murphy wonders if she ever pranked Otan. He also wonders if she’s ever had a Christmas the “traditional” way, but can’t think of a way to ask that wouldn’t be rude. Hey, at least he cares. It’s a start.

They stay in his room until the house wakes up. She walks around and reads the papers on his walls; he sits in his desk chair and watches her move carefully around the small space. Strands of her hair stick to the fuzz of her sweater. She looks warm; she radiates happiness. It’s a good look on her.

He shakes himself out of his snappiness just in time for Octavia’s door to bang open. “Merry Christmas, bitches!” she shouts, yelping as Lexa groans and probably throws something at her head. “Let’s get this bread!”

“Let’s get this- what?” Emori asks, adorably confused.

Murphy laughs and stands up. “Don’t ask. Come on, let’s go see the fruits of our labor.”

They make it downstairs just in time to hear the crunching of Bellamy’s tires on the snow outside and the roar of Zeke’s motorcycle. Murphy holds up one hand, counting down from five on his fingers. When he gets to one, Emori grins as Bellamy hollers, “What the hell?!”

“Nailed it,” Emori singsongs. Murphy snorts.

The door bangs open and Bellamy sticks his head in. “You put my present on the damn roof?!” he shouts.

Murphy grins impishly. “What makes you think it was me?”

Raven opens the oven door, then throws her hands up in exasperation. “Seriously, Murphy? Again?”

“It was my idea,” Emori says, her eyes laughing but her face straight. Raven rolls her eyes, but there’s a smile there that tells Murphy she’s just glad the two of them are working together on something.

Murphy snorts as Monty jumps up to retrieve a package hidden atop the microwave. Emori blinks at him. “Wait… Raven said ‘again’...”

“Oh yeah.” Murphy tilts his head and smiles. “I may or may not have done this last year.”

Emori smirks. “And here I thought I was original.”

Bellamy stomps into the kitchen, tracking snow on the tile. Raven squawks and swats him with a kitchen towel, but he ignores her. “Whatever this is,” he says, holding a damp package aloft, “I don’t want it.”

“You say that now,” Emori singsongs, then leans over to whisper in Murphy’s ear, “It’s a book. He’s going to love it. And I wrapped it in plastic, anyway.”

Bellamy peels off said plastic and drops it in the sink. As Jasper, Monty, Octavia and Lexa clatter down the stairs, he rips off the soggy paper and gives Emori a soft smile. “Thank you,” he says, holding the book up so she can see the cover, even though she’s the one who gave it to him. “I love it.”

Murphy’s heart warms when Emori grins. “I knew it!” she cheers to herself quietly, pumping her fist, a gesture no doubt learned from Monty.

The rest of the house starts ripping into presents too; Raven throws the crow-printed socks Murphy gave her at his head, Lexa races to the kitchen to pour orange juice into her “Classy, Sassy and a Little Smart-Assy” mug from Octavia, and Emori wraps herself up in the massive knitted scarf Murphy found at a street market in the city.

“This is the best present I’ve ever gotten, John,” she says, her smile as warm as the wool wrapped around her neck. “Thank you.”

Murphy’s heart feels like it’s going to leap out of his chest. “You’re welcome.”

When she leans forward to peck him on the cheek, he flinches forward and to the side ever-so-slightly and their lips touch for a brief moment. Monty wolf-whistles and Jasper cheers while Emori covers her mouth with her smaller hand and blinks shyly at him.

“I’m sorry-“ he stammers, but Emori leans forward again, throwing her arms around his shoulders and kissing him soundly on the mouth. “Oh.”

“Get it, J!” Raven yells while Lexa groans something about straight people being unable to control themselves.

“Merry Christmas, John,” Emori whispers. She gets to her feet, scarf still wrapped around her shoulders, and pads to the kitchen in search of coffee, leaving a stunned Murphy and his delighted friends behind.

Breakfast and lunch are haphazard affairs since everyone agreed they’d rather save room for the massive dinner Bellamy, Murphy and Zeke are preparing. Zeke shows up around noon, bearing bags full of groceries and presents. Luna follows him a moment later, Costia in tow. Lexa looks delighted, if not a little terrified, to see her surrogate older sister commiserating with her girlfriend.

“Relax,” Murphy tells her. “This could end really well for you.”

“Or really poorly,” Lexa mutters, eyeing Luna. “Luna’s a straight shooter. She could scare Cos away if she doesn’t approve.”

“My kind of woman,” Murphy remarks, yelping when Raven smacks him upside the head. “Ow?!”

“Your kind of woman is over there, and she’s the jealous type,” Raven says, pointing a thumb at Emori, who’s standing on the kitchen counter, digging around in the cabinet.

“Not jealous,” Emori calls over her shoulder, “Just possessive.”

Lexa wiggles her eyebrows. Raven rolls her eyes, and Luna laughs into her coffee cup.

Bellamy starts to get agitated around three when the roast for dinner isn’t cooking right. Murphy tries to help - it is his crockpot, after all - but quickly gets derailed when he realizes the kitchen is not big enough for all three cooks.

“Sorry, man,” he says to Zeke, whose efforts to shimmy behind Murphy failed after Murphy stepped back, almost whacking Raven’s almost-boyfriend in the head in the process.

“Oh no, no, you’re fine,” Zeke says, quick-stepping over Bellamy’s leg and putting a pan on the counter.

“What did you just say?” Raven calls from the living room, where she’s trying to install the new coding software Bellamy got her for Christmas.

“I said he was fine,” Zeke says.

“How Midwestern of you,” Costia remarks drily.

Zeke raises an eyebrow at her. “How did you know?”

“It’s easy to tell,” she says. “You say words funny.”

Raven hoots. Zeke groans and disappears into Raven’s room, where they’re storing all their coats. After a moment, Raven goes to join him.

“Have fun, Reyes,” Murphy calls after her.

“Fuck straight off, Murphy,” she replies. Emori whistles. When her eyes meet Murphy’s, she stands up.

“John, I forgot to give you your card,” she says. Murphy carefully picks his way across the crowded kitchen and dining room to reach her. She hands him a small envelope, then disappears upstairs before he can even break the seal.

The card’s printed sentiment is lame, but her written words aren’t. To his surprise and embarrassment, Murphy can’t help but blink back some tears as he reads. If anyone notices, they know better than to comment.

John,

Christmas is supposed to be a time for family, but my family isn’t here this year. I thought I would be heartbroken, but I’m not. You are my family, and so is Raven and everyone else. I’m not good at this sappy shit - clearly, since I wrote a swear word in a Christmas card - but I’m going to try.

When I answered Raven’s ad, I had no idea the love and safety you all would bring into my life. Thank you for your part in that. Thank you for loving me how you are able to, and thank you for trying to love me better by loving yourself. I see you, and I love you.

Merry Christmas, John. Never forget how loved you are, by me and everyone else.

-Em

During dinner, they sit at the dining room table and on the floor in the living room, spreading their Christmas Eve feast over end tables and folding chairs that no one wants to sit on for some reason. Murphy sits at the table elbow-to-elbow with Raven and Emori; Zeke and Bellamy sit across from them. Monty, Jasper, Lexa, Octavia and Costia sprawl on the floor, while Luna and Echo take over the couch. Raven tries to play music two separate times - “It’s for the Ambiance,” Octavia says, and Murphy just knows the capital A is implied -  but the noise coming from all corners of the house renders that effort more chaotic than mood-setting.

Murphy keeps sneaking glances at Emori. Her eyes shine with excitement and delight as she takes a massive serving of Zeke’s now-famous corn casserole. She grins when Raven starts roasting Bellamy for only getting books for Christmas. She even smiles at Murphy once or twice, which sends his heart rate through the ceiling.

Echo finishes first and starts in on the dishes. Bellamy follows, brushing her shoulder with his hand as he leans past her to start drying plates. Murphy watches them over his shoulder, the confidence in their movements, the ease with which they exist in one another’s space. When he turns back to face the table, he locks eyes with Emori and sees his longing and jealousy mirrored there.

Time slows down in the moments between clearing his plate and ending up in Emori’s room. Somehow he ends up at her bedroom door looking at her back, braced against the window frame, her legs swinging over the window’s edge, hair blowing in the cold West Virginia wind. It’s a mirror of this morning’s moment, or maybe an inversion, since her back is to him in this instance, though her face is turned upward.

“I never had a Christmas like this,” he hears her say to the wind. He steps inside her room but doesn’t shut the door. “With people and presents and noise and happiness.”

“Was it- Did you like it?” He winces at his own verbal ineptitude.

She nods, sniffs and looks over her shoulder. Her eyes glitter in the pale light from the hall. “Come sit with me,” she says softly, beckoning with her smaller hand.

When he’s comfortably seated with his head leaning against the window frame, his body snug between it and Emori’s legs, she rests her forehead on his shoulder and speaks to his upper arm. “I miss you.”

The distance between him is his own doing. The ache in his chest is, too. “I’m sorry.”

How do I cross the line between us? he wants to ask, but doesn’t want to come off either dramatic or desperate, even though he is both, just by nature.

“Thank you for your card,” he says softly. He turns, rests his chin atop her head, and resists the urge to press a kiss atop it. “It meant a lot.”

“I meant it.” Her voice is muffled. She doesn’t look up at him, but he can feel the wrinkle of her forehead through his sweater.

“You okay?”

She lifts her head. There’s a look in her eyes, equal parts caged animal and hesitant human. “If I let you in, you can’t hurt me. I won’t let you.”

Murphy takes a deep breath. Here, on his side of the drawn line, there is everything he is ashamed of. On her side, there is the smile in her voice when she speaks to him and the soft way she says his given name.

“I can’t promise I won’t hurt you,” he says slowly. “But I won’t try to.”

Emori smiles, sudden and blinding. She turns to face him, shifting so she’s straddling the windowsill. The ornaments on her God-awful sweater glint and tap together as she moves.

“Okay.” She kisses him on the cheek, then the nose. He grins. “Let’s start over.”

Murphy leans forward and presses his lips to hers, a proper kiss this time. When she laughs against his mouth, his chest expands. Then he’s the one who laughs as he remembers a line from a particular Christmas movie.

“What?” she asks, pulling away. And then Raven’s voice sounds from the doorway, where she’s leaning against the frame, looking as self-satisfied as he’s ever seen her.

“‘And the Grinch’s small heart’,” she quotes dramatically, a shit-eating grin wide on her face, “‘grew three sizes that day’.”

Emori howls with laughter. The foot dangling from the window kicks in the air. Murphy reaches for the nearest pillow near the foot of Emori’s bed and chucks it at Raven, who shrieks and limps downstairs. Murphy catches up to her by sliding down the bannister and tosses the couch’s blanket over her head, then proceeds to tickle her in the stomach until she goes to her knees, laughing and wheezing and pushing a worried Zeke away.

Murphy looks up after pulling the blanket off Raven’s head and locks eyes with Emori, who hovers at the top of the stairs, one hand on the bannister, one hand on the first step down. It’s a mirror of a moment during her first day at home: her hesitant eyes, Murphy and Raven on the couch, his nonchalant “you can come down.”

An invitation, he thinks. A request, maybe, and certainly an assurance that no matter where he is, she belongs. That no matter where she is, he is wanted.

“You can come down,” he says to her quietly. She takes a step down. Behind him, Zeke helps Raven to her feet.

“You can come down,” Murphy says to her again, remembering waiting at the bottom of the stairs on their first date, awestruck at her beautiful dress and the warmth in her cheeks.

Emori’s feet hit the floor beside him. She slings her arm around his shoulder and he reaches up to play with the long fingers of her left hand. While watching Monty, Raven and Zeke make a nest on the couch to watch The Nightmare Before Christmas, Murphy presses a kiss to every part of her hand he can reach.

“Dear Forgiveness,” he hears her murmur, almost to herself, in that casual, thoughtful way, “I saved a place for you. Quit milling around the yard and come inside.”

She kisses him on the cheek, disentangles herself from him, and goes to sit beside Raven, squealing when the other girl’s cold feet make contact with her bare ankles. Murphy watches them all, lit by the kitchen light and the glow of the TV, and wonders if it’s possible for a heart to break from happiness.

If it is, he supposes, as he leans his forearms against the couch inches from Raven’s head, he’ll gladly handle this kind of heartbreak now until forever.

Yeet yeet babey we did it

The end of this story is bittersweet for me in a strange way. I started writing Litany during a time in my life where I was not doing well, mentally, physically or emotionally. This story became a strange form of catharsis, a way for me to access the dark things in me and process them through the eyes of a character who resembles me in ways I'd rather not think about.

As Murphy and Emori learned and grew and recovered, I tried to do the same. Clearly, I'm not there yet (as evidenced by the two times I almost deleted this fic on a self-destructive whim). But there's always hope as long as you learn how to forgive yourself.

If you're dealing with stuff like this, please talk to someone. A parent, a teacher, a friend, a therapist, someone. My asks on Tumblr are always open (my Tumblr name is the same as here). We all need a Raven, an Emori, a Bellamy and a Luna sometimes.

Thanks for reading this. I hope you liked it. I'll see you soon, never fear :)

Much love, Amanda

[desperate-entwives]

So Memori week was super excellent.  A shout-out to everyone else who created stuff and rebogged stuff, this online community is the absolute best. I honestly think the memori fandom is the purest part of the 100 fandom but I’m biased   And I just want to say that anyone who reblogged my fics and wrote comments in the tags made me incredibly happy, there’s honestly nothing better than that. (I didn’t finish my freewrite from day seven but I’m planning on posting it further along, and I’m also hoping to edit the other days and post them to ao3 so stay tuned.) @ my fellow participants… I love the different ways we interpreted the characters and prompts and situations. It’s like we all demonstrated different aspects of this ship and created this huge mosaic that encompassed everything about what makes memori beautiful and interesting.  So basically @dailymemori​ you did good. 

❤️❤️❤️

[merrymemori]

Hello, everyone!!

Sign-ups are now being accepted for the first annual Memori Holiday Exchange! Check out our page for more info, and to get involved!

Also, if anyone knows how to (and wants to) make a cute holiday-themed icon, my Photoshop-uneducated self would be forever in your debt 

[lostnwounded]

@daisytachi can you make a gifset when bellarke is talking and we saw murphy caring for emori after she was exposed to the radiation. She is sitting in the snow.