#I’ve written 2200 words today so

[alvfr]

For every “🌹” received in my inbox I’ll post one random sentence/snippet of a random WIP I’m currently writing

[lurking-latinist]

I was tagged by @thisbluespirit a few days ago to list my top 5 fics I’ve written (so far!) and had to put off answering it, because at the moment I’m still very excited about my Yuletide assignment (which was in fact for thisbluespirit), and I wanted to list it, but it’s only come off anon today! So here are my top 5 fics I’ve written: in no particular order, I’m not that self-aware.

1. “The Strands of Fate” (Doctor Who (1963), T but probably could be G, Fourth Doctor/Romana II, 1709 words). This is the fic that I’d most like to have not written myself so I could read it. (But, the next best thing, Moki wrote a sequel to it!) It’s got trope subversion, it’s got Doctor/Romana, it’s got Time Lord nonsense, it’s got Lalla Ward’s bat sweater. It’s very me. Also writing it was super fun because it really took off--I was expecting it to be a couple of hundred words of joke.

2. “Somewhere to Belong” (Doctor Who (1963 and 2005), G, First Doctor, Susan, Jenny, 2200 words). Another one that sort of wrote itself: I was trying to write meta! This is based on the idea that Susan’s mother is in fact Jenny (from The Doctor’s Daughter) thanks to time travel, which is still my default headcanon for the Susan’s granny question, and I was quite impressed that my headcanon turned into an actual story with a plot and stuff. I regret that Jenny isn’t actually in the story more; maybe I’ll write more of her when I feel like I have more of a handle on her character.

3. “The Wrong Idea” (Doctor Who (1963) and whatever continuity Brax belongs in, T, Braxiatel and mentions of others, 1427 words). This fic is kind of a mess, but I think in a good way? At any rate it’s something that probably only I could have written, because the specific combination of niche lore interests is so... specific. It’s about Brax during, and after, the events of The Invasion of Time. I like the feeling of tension, and I always love exploring the concept that Time Lords Are The Worst.

4. The aforementioned Yuletide assignment: “Bestride the Narrow World” (Welcome to Our Village, Please Invade Carefully, Katrina and ensemble, G, 2502 words). This is a “missing episode”-style fic for a fantastic sci-fi radio comedy written by Eddie Robson (better known to many of you from Big Finish) and starring Hattie Morahan (better known to many of you... yeah). I’m still a little giddy over the whole experience of Yuletide, but I do also think I genuinely wrote something nice for thisbluespirit (who extra double deserves it for having made me aware of the show in the first place!). I’m always unsure about writing comedy when I start out, but I always have so much fun with it when I get into the swing of things.

5. “Blazon” (Doctor Who (1963), T, Seventh Doctor/Romana II, 500 words). It wouldn’t be a list of my fics without some Seven/Romana and some drabbles, and this drabble sequence is still what I think is the best of my Seven/Romana fics. It’s inspired by the titular blazon, which is a type of love poem that describes and praises the beloved’s physical features one by one. I always think drabbles are close to poetry in their brevity, constraint, and power, and these felt particularly like that.

I honestly have no idea if these are the actual best--they might just be the ones that were most rewarding to write rather than read--but there you go!

Tagging @swinging-stars-from-satellites @fortes-fortuna-iogurtum @strange-destinations @timeladyjamie and anyone else who wants to do it--I genuinely mean that--I’ve got to be off now and so don’t have time to tag as many people as I’d like!

[rushingheadlong]

Make It Up (As You Go Along) - A Freddie x m!Reader fic

Summary: Freddie’s birthday is quickly approaching… and so is yours. The only problem is that Freddie doesn’t know that, and you don’t particularly want to tell him.

Words: ~2200

Tags: Male Reader, H/C, brief mention of a bad relationship with parents

Notes: Happy birthday to Freddie! And also happy birthday to me, because my birthday is also September 5th and as such I have written this absolutely self-indulgent birthday-themed fic as a gift for myself.

You regret the lie the moment that it slips out. You had been hoping that the subject of your birthday would somehow never come up, but with all the preparations for Freddie’s party in full swing it was only a matter of time before he asked you, “Oh, darling, by the way, when’s your birthday?” and when he did you just panicked.

“Oh, ah- May. May 14th,” you tell him… except that’s not really your birthday at all.

Freddie pouts a little. “So I have to wait half a year to spoil you rotten?”

You for a laugh and lean in to kiss the corner of his mouth. “You say that as if you don’t spoil me rotten every day of the week anyway.”

“Well, I can’t help it when I have a gorgeous boyfriend like you,” Freddie says. He catches you around the waist before you can pull away and kisses you properly, and you let yourself melt against him a little as the lie fades from your thoughts.

And it is easy to forget about the lie. Freddie’s birthday, you’re given to understand, is always a huge production but he takes a certain amount of genuine joy in planning it and you love seeing him this happy. He keeps asking your opinion on decorations or invitation lists and you like being involved in it all. You’ve never been able to plan a proper birthday party before, and even if you know that Freddie will always just do whatever he wants to do you like seeing it all come together anyway.

Freddie’s party is scheduled for September 6th, a Friday night, but Thursday morning you wake up to find flowers and cards and gifts already streaming into the house. Freddie is in the lounge with a cup of tea and that’s where you join him as Phoebe and Joe sort through all of the deliveries.

“Good morning, my love,” Freddie greets you as you curl up next to him. You’re not nearly as much of a morning person as Freddie is and you let your eyes slip closed as you cuddle close against his side.

“Good morning,” you mumble in response.

Freddie laughs and kisses the top of your head. “I’ll have Phoebe bring you a cup of tea, alright?”

“Alright,” you say, though it comes out more like a soft slur of vowels instead of an actual word.

You don’t really fall asleep again, but you do doze off a little as Freddie asks Phoebe to bring you some tea and he accepts another stack of cards from Joe which he perfunctorily riffles through before setting aside. It’s cozy here at Freddie’s side, with only the sound of Phoebe and Joe talking in hushed whispers in the hall breaking the last of the morning’s quietness that’s still clinging to the house.

“Oh, Joe, dear, we don’t have any more room for flowers in here, take those somewhere else, why don’t you?” Freddie says, softly, so as not to disturb you.

“Sorry Freddie, but these- Well, these aren’t for you.”

“What do you mean they aren’t for me? Who are they for then?”

“The card says they’re for Y/N.”

It takes a moment for the words to register, but when they do it feels like someone dropped a bucket of ice water down your spine. You scramble to sit up, your stomach already twisting into knots, just as Freddie asks, “What? Why? What else does the card say?”

“Dear Y/N, We hope you have-”

“Joe, stop-” you try to say, but it’s too late.

“-a very happy birthday.” The color drains out of Joe’s face and he looks up at you, uncertain and apologetic.

“Birthday?” Freddie echoes, giving you a disbelieving look. “What do you mean, birthday?”

“They- It must be from someone who just wrote the wrong name on the card!” you say with a nervous laugh. “Obviously, they’re not really for me-”

“Sorry, Y/N. The card says they’re from your parents,” Joe says quietly.

You stand up and wrench the flowers from his hands and, yes, sure enough they’re from your parents. How they found out you were living with Freddie you have no idea - probably one of your sisters, and you’ll have to have words with them later. But that doesn’t help you now, with Joe standing awkwardly next to you and Freddie staring at you with the beginnings of anger starting to creep into his eyes.

“Birthday,” he says again. “You said your birthday was in May, Y/N. So why are you getting flowers from your parents now?”

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t want them-”

“This isn’t about the fucking flowers!” Freddie snaps, and Joe makes a quick escape out of the room. “This is about you, apparently, lying to me about your birthday! When is it, really?”

You gnaw on your lip, and look away from him, and debate throwing yourself out of the window to avoid this conversation.

“Y/N,” Freddie says. “When is your birthday?”

You swallow harshly and stare down at the floor as you finally come clean. “Today. September 5th.”

“Today,” Freddie repeats. “You- Your birthday is today. We share a birthday and you lied about it? Why?”

You open your mouth, close it, swallow again. The words are there but they stick in your throat and don’t want to come out, and you hear Freddie snort in disgust after a too-long moment of silence. “Right, well, let me guess then. You thought I’d throw some diva fit about having to share the spotlight with you, so you thought you’d just lie to me instead, was that it?”

“No! No, Freddie, no-”

“I thought you, of all people, would know that I’m not like that, but I guess I was wrong,” Freddie continues as if he didn’t hear you talking, and maybe he didn’t. You finally look up at him but he’s no longer looking at you, at least not directly. He’s staring down at the floor, his hands clenched tightly together, and even with his face partially hidden you can see the tightness in his mouth that tells you that he really is properly angry about this.

“Well, if that’s the sort of person you think I am, then you can get the hell out of my house,” Freddie says as he looks back up at you. His eyes are hard, his jaw is set, but there’s a real pain on his face too that cuts you to see.

And you’re angry now too, angry that Freddie is jumping to these conclusions instead of giving you one damn second to gather your thoughts and try to explain your actions to him. “If that’s what you want then fine, I’ll leave!” you snap. “Because I don’t fucking need to be with someone who’s so fucking self-centered that everything always has to be about him!”

Something flashes across Freddie’s face and he shifts, a little uncomfortable, but you’re on your own tirade now and nothing - not even Freddie fucking Mercury - can stop you.

“I don’t need you, Freddie! I don’t need this house or my birthday or these stupid flowers from my parents who don’t give a fuck about me anyway!” You throw the flowers onto the ground and the vase shatters, sending water and shards of glass and plant material flying across the floor, and causing Freddie to shout and jump to his feet.

“You want to know why I lied about my birthday? Because it doesn’t fucking matter! My birthday has never mattered! My family doesn’t care, my friends have never cared, and at this point I don’t fucking care either!” you yell at Freddie. “All I wanted was to enjoy your party and celebrate your birthday, because mine has never been important!”

You turn to leave, but Freddie grabs your wrist just as you reach the doorway and says, “Y/N. Wait, please, wait.”

You don’t turn around. You don’t want Freddie to see the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “What do you want, Freddie?” you ask, and it doesn’t come out angry anymore. Even to your own ears, you just sound tired.

“Come back to the sofa with me. Let’s talk about this properly, alright?” Freddie says gently. His thumb is rubbing along the inside of your wrist and you can feel your resolve, and the last of your anger, starting to crumble.

“Alright,” you relent after a moment.

You let Freddie gently coax you back around and his face crumbles when he sees the tears. “Oh, Y/N…” He reaches up and gently wipes them away, and you can’t hold back a small sniffle at his tenderness. He cradles your face in his hands and kisses your forehead and says, “I am so sorry for what I said, love. I didn’t mean a word of it, and I should have let you explain instead of jumping to conclusions.”

“I shouldn’t have lied to you,” you say, absolutely miserably. “I’m sorry Freddie, I panicked and I regretted it the moment I said it but I didn’t know how to take it back-”

“It’s alright, darling, I promise it’s alright,” Freddie cuts in before you can work yourself up too badly. “Let’s go sit down, alright? We’ll sit down and we’ll talk about this like the rational adults we always pretend to be.”

You manage a small smile at that and let Freddie lead you back to the couch. You don’t curl up against him like you did before - god, those half-asleep cuddles feel so long ago now - but Freddie takes your hand in his, and that’s alright for now.

“I’m sorry, Freddie,” you apologize again. “I shouldn’t have lied, I know that, I just… Well, I hate my birthday. My family never celebrated it, not really. Oh, my parents would make a show of taking me out to dinner at restaurants they chose and giving me practical, respectable gifts instead of anything I actually wanted…” You shake your head. “God, that makes me sound so selfish, doesn’t it?”

“It’s not selfish to want a little bit of attention on your birthday,” Freddie says, but you shake your head.

“I don’t want attention, though. That’s why I lied,” you tell him. “I don’t like celebrating my birthday. I don’t like people making a fuss over me, and every time I’ve tried to have a party my friends have all been busy anyway. I don’t like being given a ton of things that I don’t need and don’t want and have to pretend to care about so I don’t hurt other people’s feelings. I just want to have some time alone to do something nice for myself.” You manage to give Freddie a small smile and add, “Or else spend the day with someone I love.”

Freddie smiles back at you, but there’s still a hint of hurt in his eyes - and you only realize that it’s for you when he says, “I’m so sorry, lovie. I’m sorry that you’ve never had a birthday that you’ve enjoyed. If you don’t want to celebrate that’s perfectly alright but, darling, we could have done something. Phoebe could have baked your favorite scones for breakfast, instead of just mine. We could have made arrangements to go out to your favorite restaurant for dinner tonight, and I could have bought you your favorite flowers even if you didn’t want anything else.”

“Do you even know what my favorite flowers are?” you ask with a small, watery laugh.

“Peach roses,” Freddie says, without hesitation. “And tulips, in any color. And lilacs. And daffodils.” He does laugh a little then, and adds, “You like most flowers, but those are your favorites.”

“They are,” you have to admit, and you’re crying again but luckily Freddie is still there to wipe the tears away again. “I’m so-”

“If you apologize again, I will have to do something drastic to shut you up,” Freddie says, teasing. “It’s quite alright. I’m only upset that today is going to be entirely about me, when it should be about you as well, so if there’s anything you want today…”

“There isn’t anything, not really,” you tell him. “I just want to spend the day with you.”

“Well then, I think that can be arranged.” Freddie stands up and gently pulls you to your feet as well. “Let’s start off by going back upstairs so we can enjoy our birthdays together.” He looks at the mess on the floor from where you smashed the vase and adds, “And so this can get cleaned up.”

You look down at the mess and wince a little. “I should-”

“You should come upstairs with me,” Freddie interrupts gently. “Joe or Phoebe can handle it, and you can apologize to them later if that will make you feel better.” He kisses you, so tenderly that it makes your chest ache, and murmurs against your lips. “Come to bed, Y/N. Please?”

“Yes,” you breathe against his mouth, and you feel him smile against you - before he pulls away and, beaming, leads the way back up to the bedroom.

[mxillusion]

Monsta X Masterlist by mxillusion

Welcome to my Monsta X Masterlist. Here you can find everything Monsta X related that I’ve written so far, sorted by the member. Please let me know if something’s missing or not working, so I can fix it up. Please also check my prompt list, in case you want to request something and/or if you want to see where the prompts were coming from. 

Happy reading! ♡

SCENARIOS // ONE SHOTS

SON HYUNWOO/SHOWNU

JUST MAKING PRETTY SECRETS TONIGHT; 

You cursed this business trip from the very beginning; this whole weekend consumed all your mental strength. One night you can no longer fight this longing for him, so you find yourself in front of his hotel room to finally give in.

NOTES; scenario; 2000+ words; smut; 18+, nsfw

LEE HOSEOK/WONHO

LATE NIGHT CALL;

Things with Wonho haven’t been easy, lately. A former friendship had turned into something painful. You were both suffering, not knowing what to do. Until you decided to give him a late night call.

NOTES; scenario; 1000+ words; angst/fluff; no warnings

TODAY’S THE DAY;

You do your best to make his birthday as perfect as you can, having no clue that everything will end up in a total disaster. Why is everything going wrong when you just want him to have the birthday he deserved?

NOTES; scenario; 2700+ words; fluff ; no warnings

AND THEN THERE WAS YOU; 

You vowed to yourself you’d never ever fall in love with a colleague, but ended up that road anyway. To be honest, you had no idea how this could happen to you, but it did. Hoseok caught your attention when you first saw him and from that day you knew it was impossible to fight it. 

NOTES; scenario; 2000+ words; fluff; co-worker!AU, no warnings

LEE MINHYUK

YOU’RE PERFECT, I HATE IT; 

You just hated him so much. Whenever he could, Minhyuk tried his best to annoy the hell out of you and even though you always tried your best to just ignore it, you had to admit that it turned out to be impossible.

NOTES; scenario; 3500+ words; fluff; college!AU; no warnings   

YOO KIHYUN

ROMANCE NEXT DOOR; 

Who would’ve thought you’d have someone as handsome and beautiful as him living next door? You just moved in a while ago, but he immediately caught your attention by the way he was smiling at you.

NOTES; scenario; 4800+ words; fluff; neighbor!AU; no warnings

CHAE HYUNGWON

JUST GIVE ME A SIGN;

You did it again. After everything you’ve been trough, you actually did it again. This time things will change, but you’re too afraid of it to let it happen, so you try to brush those feelings aside. But maybe things need to change.

NOTES; scenario; 2200+ words; fluff; bf!AU; no warnings

LEE JOOHEON

LOOK GOOD IN THE MOONLIGHT; 

Jooheon likes teasing you. To play with you. And you are a sucker for his games. You just can’t get enough.

NOTES; drabble; 450+ words; suggestive, smut; 18+, nsfw

IM CHANGKYUN

UP WHERE WE BELONG; 

You’ve spent countless days imagining, dreaming and planning your perfect wedding, but now you realized this day will be much different. Who would’ve guesst you would have to marry a stranger one day?

NOTES; scenario; 2200+ words; fluff; royal!AU; no warnings

JUST MISUNDERSTOOD; 

Your relationship never was easy, you both had your issues but that didn’t stop you from getting married a few years ago. Even though you both love each other dearly, you keep messing up everything by being over emotional and acting childish and immature. But this time, everything seems to break apart ultimately.

NOTES; scenario; 2000+ words; angst; parents!AU; no warnings

SERIES // OT7 SCENARIOS

CONFESSION SERIES; shownu // wonho // minhyuk // kihyun // hyungwon // jooheon // changkyun

DRABBLES // BLURBS

kittens; changkyun (f)

first kiss; hyungwon (f)

photo shooting; kihyun (f)

sunkissed; hyungwon (f)

morning cuddles; shownu (f) dad!AU

belly-rub; changkyun (f)

freckles; jooheon (f)

tracing tattoos; changkyun (s)

cuddle-fights; jooheon (f) bf!AU

cupcake baking; kihyun (f)

cuddles + cockwarming; changkyun (s)

puppy love; minhyuk (f)

stargazing; changkyun (f)

bedroom mirror; wonho (s)

late night drives; changkyun (a)

DISCLAIMER; All actions and statements in my stories are fictional and only the source of my imagination. I do not allow any kind of translation and/or reuploads to other websides. Please don’t claim as your own.

SIDE NOTE; Please feel free to like and reblog this list and maybe consider to leave a comment, if you’ve read something, to help me improve my writing or simply lighten my day with a cute message. Thank you.

[eldritchsurveys]

924.

5k Survey XLII

2151. Should fun or safety come first? >> I’d imagine that depends on one’s goals. When it comes to skydiving, one should learn to be safe (take the lessons) before one goes on to enjoy the experience (start actually skydiving). But also, if you take a more psychological approach to the word “safety”, sometimes one has to take a little social risk to get to something fun, and that can feel unsafe, but it [ideally] ends up being worth it. 2152. Does mind over matter work for you? >> I’m not sure in what sense you mean. 2153. What’s the most weight you ever lost in one year? >> I don’t know. Whenever that happened, it’s when I wasn’t paying attention to things like my weight. 2154. What are your feelings about punk and goth? >> I love goth and I have affection for punk because it is kin to goth. 2155. Did you ever write something when you were high and then looked at it sober and realized that it was nonsense? >> No, I don’t think anything I wrote while intoxicated seemed nonsensical when looking at it sober -- maybe a little more inscrutable or revealing than my usual writings, but still within my normal mental/emotional/spiritual frameworks.

2156. How often do you shave: your face? I don’t shave. your legs?  under your arms? 2157. What word do you often hear people misuse? >> I can’t think of any right now. 2158. Have you ever used somebody? >> It’s possible. I’ve had to do a variety of things to survive. 2159. Are you paranoid? >> Not typically, but I can be. 2160. What is the best music video of all time? >> --- 2161. How many Shakespeare plays have you read all the way through? >> Only Romeo & Juliet and A Midsummer Night’s Dream. I know I was taught Hamlet but I’m pretty sure I didn’t actually read the whole thing. Also, I comprehended almost nothing I read when it came to Shakespeare, so does it even count as reading at that point... 2162. What was the deepest religious or spiritual experience you’ve ever had? >> Not going to get into it here, that’s for sure. I’ve written multiple long-form posts about this kind of thing, so it’s not casual fare. 2163. What is it like to be you today? >> I’m not sure how to answer this. 2164. Do you like to play games? >> Video games, sure. 2165. Have you made any good friends on this diary site? >> --- 2166. Have you met anyone from open diary? >> --- 2167. What have you done lately that gave everyone something to talk about? >> Nothing??? 2168. Do you get along with people who annoy you, disagree with you, dislike you, and hate you? >> If I’m annoyed by someone, or hated by someone, I’m definitely not getting along with them...  2169. When you ask for something do you make a request or a demand? >> I mean, a demand isn’t an ask, so obviously if I’m asking for something it’s a request....... 2170. Who are you a bad influence on? >> I have no idea. 2171. Who are you a good influence on? >> I have no idea. 2172. Who is on your christmas list this year? >> Who?? 2173. How many other people do you know of that are doing this survey? >> Just Elizabeth (Elisabeth? can never remember if it’s a Z or an S, one day I’ll get it right), who I’m taking this from, and someone else in the survey tag. 2174. Have you ever intentionally had a one night stand? >> Yes. 2175. Do you tend to get car sick? >> No. 2176. What is the length of your hair? >> Like, a couple of centimeters. 2177. Do you like to listen to techno music? >> Sure. 2178. Have you ever dyed your hair an unusual color? >> Long time ago, yeah. 2179. What do you think of these diary names? Oculto: suffer victim: With A Purpose:  Almost_Famous: In.The.Name.Of.Lust: The Phallic Stapler:  <*>SeXyCandace<*>: 2180. What do you think of these entry titles? Lesbians … as far as the eye can see: Why Avril Lavigne sucks:  Call On Jesus: Buddha-licious: WeLCome To The JungLe!: Geektastic: Should i get an abortion?: 2181. What do you find beautiful in an atypical way? >> I don’t know what that means. 2182. What would you PHYSICALLY fight someone over? >> Nothing. As previously stated, I have sub-zero interest in being in a physical altercation. 2183. What was the last thing you were invited to? >> I don’t remember. Probably Lauren’s birthday party.

2184. What do you like >> Either there was more to this question that got cut off, or you’re really being this vague at this point in the survey. Either way... Next. 2185. Have you ever drank:  chartruese? No. Was going to buy some for my birthday this year, and then fuckin COVID got in the way of all my plans. absinth? Yes, I drink it somewhat frequently. 2186. Do you plan your outfits ahead of time, pick them out the morning of, wear whatever was on the floor, or wear what you slept in? >> I just wear whatever I pull out of the drawer, when it’s time to change. Most of my clothing is pretty interchangeable. 2187. How long have you ever gone without changing your sheets: A long, long time. Months, probably. clothes: A few days, I imagine. underwear: Also a few days, I imagine. toothbrush: Probably ages, idk. 2189. What item should not be shared? >> Needles. 2190. How do you keep control of your temper? >> I don’t really have to work at this, I don’t have a very advanced temper. It’s my other emotions that tend to get out of hand. 2191. If you could gain all of your dreams by giving a family member (little brother) to the goblin king who would turn him into a goblin, would you? >> Ha! This situation doesn’t apply to me. Can I just be the goblin king instead? 2192. Do you like to listen to Duran Duran? >> No, but Hungry Like the Wolf is a bop. 2193. Do you ever feel the need for MORE than life has to offer? >> No...? What I want is what life does have to offer, but apparently didn’t want to offer to me. 2194. What is your favorite children’s story? >> The Phantom Tollbooth. 2195. Do you think that adult books should have more pictures? >> I love a good illustrated book, sure, why not? 2196. What was your all time low? >> --- 2197. Do you make up songs and sing them to yourself when you’re alone? >> No, I just sing songs that already exist. 2198. Do you like to listen to the Smashing Pumpkins? >> Yeah. This is one of those bands that annoyed me when I was a kid, but I enjoy now. 2199. Do you see the expression of emotion as weakness? >> Unfortunately, I had that concept instilled in me by an emotionally unavailable parent and emotionally abusive relatives. But I fucking hate that concept and I want desperately to be rid of it. 2200. Are you prepared in case of chemical, biological and nuclear attacks? >> I am not.

[tisfan]

Practicing

So, once again, I was talking to someone (multiple someones, really) about my projects and my stories and stuff. 

I am justifiably proud of the work that I do, the accomplishments that I make, and the fact that I’m running a balancing act of mother, writer, crafter, wife, fandom person, homemaker, friend, etc.

Over the last decade or so, I’ve gotten to the point where writing really is a job, and I treat it like a job. It’s not a hobby, it’s what I do. It’s the platform on which I base my self-expression and self-esteem. 

Now, part of that is because I am a fanatical list-maker. I love lists, I love checking things off lists. I will frequently add things to my list if I’ve done them, just so I can check them off.

Part of it is that I’ve learned Project Management from my husband, and writing a story is very much like working a Project. I’ve learned management techniques, and organizing a fan event is very much like managing an office. These are skills as an adult, I’ve learned and applied from fandom to real life and from real life to fandom.

But one of the most important things, and I keep stressing this to people, is “do not compare yourself to me.” I’ve been writing for over 10 years as a professional. Yes, I’m very, very good at it. I imagine you’re very good at what you do -- running a convenience store, working at a library, doing the concession stands at PTA events, whatever you invest time in becomes part of what you are.

So, like, when I started writing, my goal was 200 words a day, 6 days a week. 1,200 words per week.

And eventually I wrote a full length novel (that’s been published) doing that.

Eventually 200 words a day became 250. and 250 became 300. It didn’t happen all at once. It didn’t happen all the time. But I practiced and I practiced.

And I did the thing that people do to me, now. I looked at this friend, who wrote 2,000 words a day, and that friend, who finished their NaNoWriMo (50,000 words in 30 days) project in 10 days... “Why can’t that be me?”

And I’m complaining about this one day to my husband, and he says “is this the list of people you’re using to make yourself feel bad today?”

I drew up short. Yeah, yeah, I guessed that was true.

My friends wouldn��t want me to do that... and I decided to fucking STOP. If I wanted to get to 2,000 words a day, I was just going to have to get there. Or decide it wasn’t the right goal for me.

I stopped paying attention to what other people were doing. It wasn’t easy. I didn’t always succeed. But even when I didn’t, I drove myself to create “just a little bit more, today.”

But what I also stopped doing, without realizing it, was I stopped practicing the art of envy. I did 500 words. Yay me! Sommer did 2200 words. Yay Sommer!

And I discovered, over time (it’s been about six years now since that conversation, and in that time, I’ve written a couple million words of fan fic, published 7 novels, written hundreds of short stories, did a reading in front of 200 people in Washington DC) that I became better at writing. But also less good at comparing and complaining. I got out of practice at comparing myself to other people. I found complaining about other people was more energy than I was getting back from it.

Whatever you want to get better at: Practice.

But that also means, you can get really, really good at some bad stuff, because you’re practicing it. You practice hatred and envy and jealousy and you GET better at those things. Habits become habit forming.

If you want to be good at a thing: Put the work into becoming good at a thing. And take a few minutes to look at your life; what have you been practicing that’s taking your divine energy and putting it to use that doesn’t make you happy?

Maybe... you should consider not practicing... 

[lululawrence]

Hi, I was wondering if I could ask you about like, how often you write, and how much you write when you write. I always look at your writing and im like dammmn lulu is so well written and writes so much and I was just wondering how you manage to get it done and if you have any tips and advice for making the time and getting the writing done?

Hi!! I meant to answer this while I had my laptop out earlier today and forgot so now you get my likely very untidy phone type up of my thoughts. Apologies in advance hehe

So how often I write! It depends on the time of year. Usually once school is in session I write at least 4-5 times a week. It’s sometimes only fifteen minutes here and thirty minutes there, but I do try to get at least two or three good hour+ writing sessions in a week just because I emotionally and mentally do better with that and with the kids in school I have that opportunity more often. Once November comes along I write pretty much every single day because of nanowrimo. November is also the start of what I call my anxious season and writing is a BIG coping mechanism for me, so i write pretty much daily all the way until the anxious season is over. (Sometimes that’s mid January, sometimes that’s April. It varies.) then it goes back down to about 3-4 times a week until summer break and at that point who the hell knows??? I do get at least one or two good writing sessions in each week generally during that time though.

This is all going to be basically going out the window this winter though with baby #3 coming in January so keep tuned on that. Hahaha!

As for how much I write, it depends on a lot of factors. What I’m writing, how much time I have, what deadlines I’m working with, what my mood and focus level is like that day, how well I’ve been sleeping, etc etc etc. generally speaking I don’t sit down and tell myself how many words I wanna write. I might have a goal of “I want to finish this scene” or just “write as much as I can in the 20 minutes before I have to leave for appointment c” or whatever, but I don’t hold those in too high regard. If it happens it happens, and if not, maybe next time. The only reason I even know how much I write in one session or hour or whatever is because that’s how my writing support group chats are able to help cheer me on even if no one else is writing at the same time. I tell them my starting word count and when I’m checking back in, and then when I come back I give my end word count. If possible, I write for an hour at a time, so I come to know my usual hourly word count abilities etc. if I’m in a good vibe I can usually get anywhere from 1700 words an hour to 2200 words, but that obviously fluctuates.

ALSO. This isn’t how it’s always been. I used to do writing parties with writers far more experienced than me and they’d get numbers like I just gave you while I was struggling to write 800 words in that same time frame. I sent think I would ever get higher. But I wasn’t writing as frequently, I hadn’t learned the best writing practices for myself yet, I hadn’t found my writing groove, you know? I was still learning and growing and getting to where I am now, five years after I started. And I’m being serious right now, the comic sans trick works. Lol

As for how I get it done, it’s like i said in the previous paragraph. I learned what works best for me in loads of ways. Settings of where I’m writing plays a big part. I can write at home but I’ll be writing at least half speed that I would at the library or Starbucks. I write best in the afternoon but my other big writing groove time is between 7-10 pm generally speaking. I am HUGELY motivated by deadlines. If a fic doesn’t have an actual deadline, I have to make one up for it in my head or it won’t be written and if it is it’ll be so drawn out and I’ll drag my feet even if I wanna write it and love it and yeah. I also know I need to talk to people about my writing. I have to tell someone I’m doing it and have that feeling of reporting back to prove I did it cause I am a FUCKING LEO and I need other people to applaud me when I actually do what I set out to do. Haha all of these things combine and have been learned piece by piece for me over the years until I’ve gotten to where I am now. I was NOT this efficient before. I also did a stupid personal challenge of writing a birthday fic for every friend I was close enough to to know their birthdays one year which resulted in my writing over 42 fics in a single calendar year (I also had exchanges and other challenges I wrote for so there were hella deadlines and that taught me a lot about my writing limits, how fast I could write an entire fic, how to condense fics and ideas, and so on and so forth) and I felt like the insanity of that year opened every door and window for me writing wise. I feel like I can literally do anything I set out to do in fic writing now. I’ve also come to appreciate me writing fics for myself too though hahaha

SO. Tips!!! Keep going. Keep trying. Keep stretching and using those writing muscles and try new things. Find what techniques work for you. Is it motivation you’re lacking? Support? Rewards? Deadlines? Typing ability? Confidence? Figure out what you think is your biggest hurdle and try to rectify it. Try writing new and different things you haven’t tried before, even if they’re just drabbles. Just don’t let mental constraints of what you think you can and can’t do force you to stay in certain bounds because you learn from every experience and through time you’ll come to know how you work best as well. Keep swimming!

But also, keep reading. Reading gives me the biggest motivation. I love reading and giving comments to other writers who help entertain me and inspire me and cultivating relationships with other writers too. The writing community here in this fandom is SO deep and SO beautiful and loving and supportive. We are incredibly lucky and I love being a part of it. everyone here helps me keep going all the time and I love reading what they put out just as much as I love writing. So. I also recommend you continue reading as well. ☺️☺️

This is SO LONG and I apologize. I’d do a read more if I wasn’t on mobile. But I do hope you find this helpful or at the very least not boring!

What it all comes down to is this. Everyone’s process is different. Everyone’s speed is different. Part of the reason I can write so fast is I don’t edit as I go. I just. Don’t. I throw an entire sopping heap of messy writing at my betas and they clean it up and make it pretty. Others can’t work like that. They have to edit as they write which will naturally slow them down. So just also don’t compare yourself. You can always aim to improve, but in the end the numbers don’t matter outside of helping you attain your own personal goals.

Good luck!! You’re doing and gonna continue doing amazing things. I can feel it. ☺️😘😘😘😘😘

[lastbluetardis]

Chemical Potential (2/11)

Summary: Slightly homesick and stressed about her abysmal chemistry grade, Rose Tyler meets quirky James Smith, the boy who sits in front of her in their chemistry class. They become fast friends as James makes it his personal mission to help Rose get through the semester.

Ten x Rose University AU

This chapter: ~2200 words, all ages

Notes: This was written for the lovely @thegreenfairy13 as part of the @dwsecretsanta gift exchange. I’ve changed my posting schedule to the middle of the week as AO3 is more frequently down over the weekends, I’ve noticed.

AO3 | Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | epilogue

The early October sun shone brightly overhead as they walked towards the center of the sprawling campus, their joined hands swinging loosely between them. The day was cool but steadily warming, and Rose saw several students carrying jackets and sweatshirts over their arms.

“This is one of the most annoying times of year,” James said. “The mornings are cold but the afternoons are warm. It’s impossible to know how to dress!”

“Layers,” Rose answered, unzipping the front of her jacket to reveal the long-sleeve shirt underneath.

“Quite right,” he agreed. “I can’t wait ‘til the trees start to change. It’s beautiful.”

Rose nodded. The campus had been built into a mountain, and trees lined every walkway. She couldn’t wait to take photographs in the height of autumn.

“What year are you?” Rose asked curiously.

“Second year,” he replied. “And you?”

“First year,” she said.

“Oh, so you must be brand-new to the country and the whole institution of university.” When Rose nodded, his voice softened. “How are you adjusting?”

A dull ache radiated through her chest, though not as fierce as it had been when she’d broken down in the loo.

They’d reached the dining hall, and James released her hand to jog a few paces ahead of her to hold open the door for her. The chivalrous act made her smile. Jimmy had never gone out of his way to hold open doors or anything for her.

James’s eyes were expectant, and Rose remember he’d asked her a question.

“Oh, you know.” She shrugged. “Some days are good, others not so much.”

James nodded knowingly, and when they were both inside, he rested his hand at her lower back and guided her to the food court. The touch sent tingles down her spine.

Rose looked around with interest. She very rarely found herself in this building; most days, she packed breakfast and lunch and had no need to purchase a meal. She thought of the banana and baggie of cereal in her backpack, but when she smelled eggs and bacon, her stomach rumbled, and she knew she wasn’t in the mood for the breakfast she’d brought.

James grabbed a tray for himself and one for her, then he made a beeline for the pancake station.

“Oh, brilliant!” Rose followed him and saw a giant grin on his face. “Banana pancakes!”

Rose smiled at his enthusiasm and giggled when he stacked six pancakes onto his plate. She was more conservative and only took two, then followed him to scoop eggs and bacon beside her pancakes.

“I’m still not completely used to Americans’ love of sweet foods for breakfast,” Rose said, watching James completely douse his plate in maple syrup, covering not only the pancakes but also his eggs and bacon.

“Oh, I love it. I’ve got a bit of a sweet tooth,” he admitted sheepishly.

“You don’t look like it,” Rose blurted, and she cringed.

But James laughed and winked, then moved to the other end of the food court for coffee. Rose followed and got herself a cup of tea.

When they reached the register, James whipped out his student ID card while Rose dug into her backpack for her wallet. James frowned when he saw she’d taken out cash.

“You don’t have a meal plan?”

“Am I supposed to know what that means?”

“A meal plan,” he repeated. “Everyone who lives on campus is required to have one. And even some people who don’t live on campus get a meal plan. Like me. I don’t live on campus but I spend so much time here and sometimes I don’t feel like bringing my own food. I’m rubbish with having cash on me and I don’t like using my credit or debit card for small purchases so it’s just easier for me to put dining dollars into my account.”

Rose bit her lip to stifle a smirk the longer he rambled on. She met the eye of the clerk at the register and grinned when the woman rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“No, I don’t live on campus,” Rose explained. “I pack breakfast and lunch most days.”

“Then here, let me…” James turned to the cashier and said, “All of this is together.”

Heat flooded from the tips of Rose’s ears down her neck. “No, you don’t have to do that. I can pay for myself.”

“I know, but I want to,” James answered, his cheeks going pink. “Please? I’d like to. It’s not every day I make a new friend.”

Rose sincerely doubted that, what with how talkative he was even to a perfect stranger like her.

“Are you sure?” she mumbled.

“Absolutely.”

He handed over his ID card to the cashier, and one swipe later, James and Rose walked with their food to the long wall of windows at the back of the room.

“Thank you,” Rose said softly, following James to a round table that could comfortably seat six people.

“Anytime. God, I’m famished! I usually eat breakfast before class but I accidentally overslept this morning. I thought it was Tuesday, not Wednesday. I’ve got a totally different alarm for Tuesdays. So I didn’t have time to eat.”

James sliced his fork through his stack of pancakes and shoveled them into his mouth. His cheeks puffed out comically and his eyes fluttered shut as he let out a soft humming sound of contentment.

“I love pancakes,” he sighed through his full mouth.

Rose smiled and took a reasonable bite of her food.

“I’ve got another class at eleven,” James warned. “Calc 3. Do you have another class today?”

“Art of the Renaissance at noon.”

James furrowed his brow. “What’s your major, anyway?”

“Art and education,” she replied. “I want to teach someday, I think. You?”

“That’s brilliant. And I’m double-majoring in physics and mechanical engineering.” He paused. “What the hell are you doing in general chemistry?”

Rose looked down at her plate and speared her fork through her eggs.

“It was the only science class that fit into my schedule,” she muttered. “I didn’t think it would be this hard.”

“Can you withdraw?” he asked gently.

“Not without dropping below twelve credits,” she said bitterly. “I’m here on a full scholarship, and they’ll take it away if I’m not a full-time student. So I’m kinda stuck.” She huffed out a huge breath and massaged her temples, her earlier anxiety coming back. “I need to keep a 3.0 GPA, and I can’t get anything below a C.” Tears welled into her eyes as her heart started hammering throughout her whole body. “I’m so fucked, James.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” His chair scraped across the floor until it was butted up against hers. His thigh pressed into hers and he wrapped his arms wrapped around her shoulders, tugging her into his chest. She tensed for a minute but then melted into the embrace.

Tears dripped down her cheeks as he hugged her tightly. He nuzzled his cheek into the top of her hair and rubbed his hand up and down her back in long, slow strokes. She buried her face into his chest when she remembered she’d wiped off all of her makeup and wouldn’t ruin his shirt. She sniffled, and her lungs filled with the smell of him. Sandalwood and laundry detergent and fresh air. God, he smelled good.

“Easy does it,” he murmured.

She let out a shuddering breath, mortification overtaking her. Pulling back from his hug, she grabbed her napkin and blotted her eyes and blew her nose.

“God, I’m sorry,” she whispered, pressing her lips into something she hoped looked like a smile.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said. “It’s okay to show emotion. It’s okay to cry when stressed. You’ve had loads to adjust to in such a small space of time.”

Rose nodded and mangled her napkin in her fist.

“How did you get here, anyway?” he asked. “To an American university.”

“A plane,” she teased, a genuine smile finally crossing her face.

James rolled his eyes and snorted. “Smartarse.”

She giggled, and said, “I applied to a few universities in America. A mate of mine moved to New York last year with his job and really loves it here. I wanted a fresh start. Moving to a different country seemed like a good way to do that.”

He looked at her curiously, obviously wanting more details. She didn’t feel like going into her past with him yet, and she waited to see if he would press for more information. She was relieved when he stayed silent.

“How about you?” she asked. “How did you end up here?”

“I’ve lived in the United States since I was sixteen,” he replied. “My Aunt Sarah moves us around a lot for her job. She’s a journalist and is always moving to different countries, chasing stories. She moved us to the US six years ago. She’s currently in Flint, Michigan doing some reporting. I moved here for school.”

Rose desperately wanted to ask what happened to his parents, but he’d given her the courtesy of not asking for more information than what she’d provided. She would do the same.

Instead, she asked, “How old are you?”

“Twenty-two,” he answered. “Twenty-three in December. A little older than the typical undergraduate student, but I got a late start. I did a bit of travelling, trying to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. And I honestly still have no idea what I want to do.”

They lapsed into an only slightly awkward silence. Rose trailed her fork tines through the leftover syrup on her plate and James finished the food on his.

“Do you want to study together?”

Rose looked up at him when he spoke, but he was very intently adding packets of sugar to his coffee. One… Two… Three… Four… Blimey, five! He wasn’t kidding about the sweet tooth, she thought.

“I thought it might be nice, y’know? Chemistry is hard, and next to impossible if you go it alone. I thought maybe we could buddy up and help each other through.”

Rose was about to decline. She’d caught a glimpse of his exam score over his shoulder in class that morning—a perfect score. He didn’t need her help studying, he just felt sorry for her. She didn’t want to burden him, no matter how much help she needed to get her through the class. If it was even possible for her to get through the class with a satisfactory grade.

But it would be so nice to have a friend to hang out with, even if it was just to study. She liked James—a lot—and she found herself wanting to get to know him. He seemed like someone she could become really good friends with.

James had finally looked up from his coffee. His eyes were deep and earnest, and she saw absolutely no hint of reluctance in them like he regretted offering to help her study.

“I’m really bad at chemistry,” she warned.

James shrugged. “We’ll take it slowly.” He opened and closed his mouth a few times, then reached out and covered her hand with his own. His palms were hot from being cradled around his coffee, and the warmth felt nice. “I want to help you if I can, Rose.”

Rose bit her lip. What was the worst that could happen? She could agree to study with him and still fail the class and their study sessions would be a complete waste of James’s time. But if she studied alone, she was certainly going to fail the class.

So what if she did study with James and still failed? Maybe she’d get a good friend out of the experience.

And what if—what if—she studied with him and passed?

“Okay,” she said softly. “Yeah, let’s study together.”

James’s face lit up in a delighted grin, and he gave her fingers a sharp squeeze. “Brilliant! I look forward to it.” His eyes drifted behind her shoulder, and his brows lifted. “Bugger. We’ve been here longer than I thought. I’ve gotta run.”

Rose glanced over her shoulder to the clock on the wall. Ten-fifty-five. Oh, right. He had a class at eleven.

“I’ll talk to you later,” he promised, standing up from the table.

Rose smirked. “Yeah? And how are you gonna do that?”

“Hmm? Oh! Er…” He fumbled around in his pockets, first the front pockets, then his back pockets, then finally his jacket pocket until he found his phone. Rose took it and typed her contact info into it. When she handed it back, he tapped on the screen and Rose felt her own mobile vibrating. It stopped after a second when James shoved his phone into his back pocket.

“There, now you’ve got my number,” he said. “Right! Goodbye for now, Rose Tyler!”

“Bye, James. Thanks for breakfast. And thanks for… thanks.” She trailed off awkwardly, but James’s eyes softened in understanding.

“Gotta dash,” he said. He turned away and began walking away, and Rose settled in at their table to catch up on some homework before her noontime class. “Hey, Rose?” She looked up to see James had turned back around. “I’m so glad I met you.”

Rose beamed at him, feeling her heart skip a beat when he returned the smile.

“Me too,” she called out, and she heard a high-pitched giggle before he turned and strode outside.

[natasha-cole]

Perfectly Imperfect Part 4

Pairing: Rob Benedict x Reader

Chapter Summary: Even though things aren’t happening as they should, Reader learns the hard way that even defective soulmates are still soulmates.

Warnings: slight angst, some fluff?

Word Count: 2200

Square filled: Soulmate AU

Notes: Written for @spnfluffbingo

It’s been a long time, friends. Here you go. Please accept this chapter as an apology for not writing as often as I used to.

Also, I am basically taking every single soulmate AU trope and writing it into this series. Enjoy the corny fluff!

Catch Up: Part 1  Part 2  Part 3

Reader’s POV

“Where are my manners?” Rich asked after Kim had left. “All this serious talk and I still don’t even know your name.”

“Oh, I’m Y/N,” you replied. You held your hand out to him, expecting him to shake it so that you could formally meet.

He made the movement to take your hand, but stopped short and turned his face up in confusion.

“You sure that’s a good idea? I wouldn’t want to accidentally connect with you,” he said jokingly.

You chuckled at his comment, aware that the situation was weird enough to warrant a joke. Rob on the other hand, didn’t seem amused. While you were busy accepting the joke, Rob had stepped quickly in between you and Rich, face turning red as he seemed to be suddenly upset by Rich’s comment.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rob said through gritted teeth.

“It was just a joke,” Rich replied, holding his hands up as if he meant to protect himself from his friend. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

In an instant, Rob stepped back, visibly trying to calm himself.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I don’t know why I got so possessive.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you replied. “That’s a good thing.”

“Yeah,” Rich added. “That’s a normal reaction considering you just found your person. That protective, possessive feeling is going to be really strong for a while. Well, maybe. I guess we really don’t know with you two.”

“That makes me feel a lot better, to be honest,” Rob said with a small smile. It was then that he reached over to take your hand in his. The small movement made your heart rate pick up and you definitely felt butterflies just by having him touch you. At this point though, you didn’t know if those feelings had anything to do with the connection or if it was just nerves.

“Yeah, me too,” you replied.

You and Rob shared a brief moment, looking at each other until it all began to feel awkward again. There was definitely something there between you, and you desperately wanted it to just be perfect; but, all you could do at this point was wait to see if Kim could come up with anything else on the topic.

“Well, let’s see about finding someone to get you back to the hotel,” Rich said, forcing you and Rob from your moment together.

“Why?” Rob asked. “I’ve still got work to do today.”

“Yeah, well, you’ve just found your soulmate, so you get a pass on the rest of the weekend.”

“I can’t do that. I’ve got panels, photo ops… the concert.”

“I get it, but maybe you don’t understand how serious this is. Finding her… Rob, this is an important day. You’ve got to take some time for the two of you to just be together.”

“I mean, she’s here at the con anyway. We’ll still be together even if I’m working.”

Rich looked at his friend in confusion.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Fine.”

“Do you really not suddenly feel the need to just be with her? Like, there’s not a part of you that just knows you should take some time for you to be alone with her?”

“Well, uh… no?” He replied, looking unsure as to whether that was the right answer. “I want her around, sure. But, come on, I barely know her.”

“This is a lot more serious than I thought,” Rich muttered. He ran a hand across his beard, looking concerned as he studied both of you.

“What?” Rob asked.

“The rest of the process,” you said softly. “We’re supposed to…”

“I know,” Rob cut you off. “I know what the process it.”

“There’s just… a certain way things are supposed to happen,” Rich explained.

“Believe me, I know,” Rob said in frustration. “All my life I’ve heard about how this was supposed to happen. Unfortunately, it didn’t happen that way. Not for us. So, please forgive me if I don’t feel the sudden urge to jump into bed with a woman I hardly know.”

You stared at the floor as Rob spoke, feeling just as frustrated by the whole thing as he did.

Your entire life you had dreamed about this moment. Finding your soulmate was supposed to be perfect. You were supposed to fall in love immediately, you were supposed to just know that your person was the one that you would be with forever. Right now though, you knew that it wasn’t going to be that easy for you.

You felt the same way that he did. You were drawn to him. But, you also felt uncomfortable by the entire thing. You didn’t know him. You didn’t have that feeling that was supposed to be there. You were just grateful that he was able to say these things out loud that you had been thinking all along.

“Look, I just worry that, by not following the usual protocol, this whole thing could get worse,” Rich said.

“How could it get worse?” You cut in.

“I don’t know,” Rich breathed out. “We just don’t know anything about this. What if this connection breaks completely because neither of you are even trying to make it happen?”

“Rich, I stand firmly on what I said. Look at her,” Rob said, gesturing toward you. “She’s already nervous, as am I. I want this to happen. I’ve always wanted this. It just… didn’t happen the way it should have. So, I’m not going to force either of us into anything.”

“Yeah, but-“

“Please stop,” Rob sighed. “Y/N and I will figure this out. But for now, I think we just need to work on getting to know each other first.”

“You should already know each other,” Rich replied. “That’s the whole point of soulmates. Fate does the work for you.”

“Yeah well, fate kinda failed us, didn’t it?” Rob asked bitterly.

Rich nodded, turning his lips up into a forced smile.

“You’re right. You two sort of got screwed here.”

“I’m not denying that there’s something here,” Rob continued. He turned to glance at you, making eye contact with you briefly. “I feel it, I do. But, I also get the feeling that we’re going to have to take things a bit slower.”

You smiled at him, still thankful that he was saying exactly what you were thinking. Maybe the connection between the two of you wasn’t as weak as you had thought. You both seemed to be on the same page about how to handle this at least.

“Okay,” Rich said finally. “I can’t say that I know anything about what this is. Hell, I don’t think anyone knows what this is. But, I trust that the two of you are well on your way to figuring it out.”

“We are,” you said. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

“I’m gonna finish the weekend,” Rob explained to you. “It’s probably best if you stay around. Obviously you’re welcome to hang out here.”

You nodded your understanding, knowing that there was no way you were going back to being just another fan enjoying the con. Not only had all those people seen what had happened between you and Rob, but you had a basic understanding of how the rest of the connection was supposed to go. Even if you knew that this particular situation was anything but normal, you still wanted to try to treat it as if it were.

“Dude, you can't-" Rich started, almost trying to stop Rob from walking away from you.

“What?”

“You know what? Never mind.”

“No. Say what you were gonna say.”

“Nope. I just realized that this could be good for my notes.”

“Really? You're actually going to take notes?”

“For science,” he grinned.

You hadn’t been in the green room for more than ten minutes when the sudden wave of sickness washed over you. It was unexpected in a way, and immediately overwhelming.

You tried to breathe through the dizziness and twisting of your stomach, sort of panicked that this had come on so suddenly and you had no idea why. You found that steadying your breathing helped a bit, or at least made the feelings tolerable briefly.

You weren’t sure why, but all you wanted was Rob right now. You assumed that feeling had a lot to do with the connection, and you felt a bit better knowing that you at least missed him even if you were somewhat indifferent toward him.

Others came and went as you sat there. Some introduced themselves to you, others mostly stared at you as if you were an oddity. You understood of course. Everyone knew by now what had happened, and the fact that you and Rob weren’t away and going through the expected steps of this entire thing was concerning for everyone.

Just as you had closed your eyes to focus on getting through a wave of nausea, you felt the couch shift beneath you as someone sat next to you. You opened your eyes and glanced toward the person, recognizing her as Briana.

She smiled sweetly at you and you forced a smile back.

“You don’t look so good,” Briana said.

“I don’t feel so good,” you admitted.

“You know why, right?”

You shook your head, too tired to even talk at this point. Your careful breathing didn’t seem to be working anymore in holding back the sickness, and now you just wanted to curl up in a ball and cry.

“Look, I get that you and Rob have each been alone for a really long time,” she began. “This whole soulmate thing doesn’t normally happen this late in life. But, do you really not have a basic understanding of what this whole thing entails?”

“After a while of not finding your person, you sort of forget,” you said quietly.

“Okay,” she chuckled, “I’ll get to the point. You’re not supposed to be away from your soulmate so soon after finding them. Separation this early causes all sorts of problems.”

“Yeah, I knew that. I just figured that since this is all a little unconventional, it wouldn’t matter.”

“Well, this is a good thing,” she said with a smile as she sat next to you. “I heard about the uh, uniqueness of the situation. So, it’s really good that you’re feeling this way while he’s working.”

“I just- assumed we wouldn’t have to worry about these things.”

“Even though this is… unique, I might suggest that the two of you just treat it normally. And maybe it’s a good idea to go find him. Might make you feel better.”

“Thank you,” you mumbled. “But, I can wait. I don’t want to bother him while he’s working.”

“I wonder how he’s feeling,” she mused.

“Hopefully not as bad as I feel. I couldn’t imagine having to work while feeling like this.”

As the thought left your lips, you heard a door open. You looked up to see Rob enter the room, Rich right behind him.

“Well,” Briana began. “I think it’s safe to say you’re both feeling the effects.”

You understood what she meant. As Rob approached you, you noted that he looked awful. The color had drained from his face, dark circles had appeared suddenly around his eyes, and he trudged toward you as if he had no strength left in his body.

You wondered if you looked that bad.

“Are you okay?” You asked, when he finally reached you.

“No,” he replied. “Are you okay?”

You shook your head in response.

“How are we both sick?” He asked. “And all of the sudden?”

He plopped down next to you on the couch, looking miserable.

“Are you both stupid on purpose?” Rich cut in.

“Excuse me?”

“You can’t be away from each other the day you literally found each other. That’s why you’re sick, you idiots.”

“I thought that was a myth,” Rob replied.

“It’s not a myth. It’s fact. It’s probably even worse for you two considering that your connection isn’t exactly normal to begin with.”

“I know,” you groaned. “I knew this could happen, I just didn’t think it would happen to us.”

“Even now, you’re still not feeling well?” Rich asked as he quirked an eyebrow at you.

“I feel terrible,” you mumbled.

In an attempt to comfort you, Rob reached out to you finally. He cautiously wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close to his body.

You immediately relaxed. The moment that he made contact with you, the sickness seemed to wash away. You glanced over to him, noting that he also seemed to be feeling better. The color had returned to his skin and he gave you a smile as you both felt the miserable feeling leave your bodies.

“Is everything okay?”

You heard Rich’s voice after a while. It broke you from your daze, and you realized that you and Rob had been sitting there for some time, just staring into each other’s eyes. He hadn’t let go of you, and you breathed a sigh of relief that at least this had happened normally.

“Yeah,” Rob answered him, not even breaking eye contact with you as he spoke. “We’re good. We’re really good.”

Tags

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[bughead-is-riverdale]

Riverdale Imagine: The Playbook (Jason x Reader)

Requested by @pottersnitch : Could you please write something about Jason Blossom? Like he and the reader are dating and then she finds out about the playbook and have a huge fight but make up because of Cheryl.

 A/N: I had to type this up on my phone so there may be some spelling errors and I couldn't put anything in bold/italics so I'll edit it on my computer and add it to my masterlist when I get home from holiday. 

Approx. 2200 words 

As you rolled over in bed, the nausea you had been experiencing throughout the day threatened to resurface. You groaned and clutched at your empty stomach, it churned as if it was filled with a nest of slimy eels. You were drenched in sweat from fever, you knew that your bedroom was cold because it was the middle of winter and you could see the cloud of your breath escaping from your chapped lips as you exhaled, but the sickness-bug had trapped you in a permanent humidity. At some point during the day, you had even opened your bedroom window, and frost was beginning to creep onto the window sill. Hearing a gentle knock on your door, you forced yourself into a sitting-position, resting on a mountain of cushions. 

"Come in" you called weakly. 

"How's the patient?" you heard your favourite voice tease. You felt a smile spread across your face as a familiar red-haired boy peered around your door, his brown eyes regarding you with concern, making your heart flutter involuntarily. The few months that you and Jason had been together had felt like a dream. You had been pining after him for the majority of your high-school life, and you still couldn't quite believe that he was yours. As he almost glided into your room and cautiously sat down on the edge of your bed, a lock of his silky hair fell onto his forehead and you couldn't help but think that he was beautiful. He didn't have Archie's muscular frame, or Reggie's charming smile, but somehow he was much more attractive than any of the other boys at school. He looked delicate, like a porcelain doll with his pale complexion and angular features, and his muscle was lean and wiry, clinging to his lanky frame. He was just as strong as any other boy on the football team though, he would always carry you around at any opportunity, gathering you up like a princess in his arms. You watched in fascination as his long white fingers danced over the skin of your arm, the sensation of his touch sending what felt like an electric current through your body. You wondered if you would ever get used to this, or would his touch always make your heart lurch. Suddenly, his concerned expression turned into one of disapproval as his attention was caught by the open window, he frowned. 

"Y/N! No wonder you're ill, it's like Narnia in here!" Jason groaned, hastily closing your window. 

"No JJ!" you wined, "I'm too hot!" He sighed and opened the window again, but only slightly. 

"I brought you some ginger tea" he said proudly, pulling an enormous flask from his school bag, smiling like a child who had received a gold star. "It's supposed to help with nausea." You groaned internally. Your mum had practically been force-feeding you ginger tea for two days and you weren't sure how much more you could take. You smiled graciously at Jason though, it's the though that counts after all, you could always pour it down the sink later. 

"Thanks babe, that's so sweet of you" you enthused. "Also, could I possibly borrow your English book so I can catch up on today's notes?" He quickly dug through his bag and handed you the typical dark-green notebook that everyone used for English, before checking the time and muttering something about extra football practice. He leant towards you and kissed you sweetly on the cheek, his long lashes brushed your temple and his warm breath on your skin made your cheeks blush pink. He smelled like pine-wood and maple syrup and you wondered if you would ever stop loving this boy, you thought it was unlikely.

Later that evening, after you had subtly got rid of the abundance of ginger tea and successfully kept down some plain pasta, you unwillingly sat down at your desk and opened Jason's English book. Except, it wasn't his English book. The inside cover was entitled 'The Playbook' and the names of all the boy on the football team were written in block capitals, including Jason's. Assuming that it was a notebook that the team used to keep track of points scored during games, or fitness progress, you turned a few of the pages curiously. As you scanned a couple of pages however, a cold feeling began to spread through your body, it was as of the temperature in the room had suddenly plummeted. The boys weren't keeping track of their football progress at all, they were recording their sexual 'conquests'. Your heart began to thump forcefully in your chest as you flipped through the pages with shaking hands, anxious to discover if Jason's 'conquests' had also been recorded, and if you were among them. As you turned the next page, the paper slipping through your frozen fingers, you wanted to throw up at what you saw. 'JASON BLOSSOM' was written across the top of the page in typical untidy boyish scrawl, that wasn't what horrified you though. Under the names of Jason's ex-girlfriends and hook-ups read: 

Y/N Y/L/N - 8/10 points for appearance, 10 points for being a virgin (extra 10 points when you take her virginity), but lose 5 points for feelings

You could have sworn that you felt your heart crack. The boy you had been in love with for years was only dating you so he could record you in some stupid playbook, so he could compete with his friends. Had he been planning to just dump you once he had taken your virginity? To collect his points and move onto the next girl? Your eyes stung with tears and you gritted your teeth in anger, you would not cry over this, you promised yourself. Instead, you took careful photos of each page in 'The Playbook' and texted them to both your best-friends, Betty Cooper and Veronica Lodge, with a quick explanation as to what you had discovered. 

BC: What the fuck is this? Xx 

VL: Chuck is going down if he ever thought he could 'score' me in some fucking book!! Xx  

A cold smile spread across your features as you were suddenly hit with how to expose the football team and break up with Jason at exactly the same time. 

Y/N: Alright girls, we're going to put on a little show xx

"I can't believe how many times I've been recorded in this stupid book" Veronica seethed, her perfectly manicured nails digging into the book's dark-green cover. "Half of these have just been made up, I never made out with Reggie at the Christmas party." 

"It's irrelevant whether it's true or not, Ronnie" Betty cautioned, "the book just shouldn't exist." 

"As for Jason" Veronica continued in an alarmingly threatening voice, "I'm going to rip his balls out from under him with -" 

"Talk of the devil" you muttered, watching your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend saunter down the hall with at least half of the football team. Perfect. His chocolate-brown eyes lit up when he saw you and he jogged over to where you were standing by the lockers, his red hair ruffled slightly. Normally, the sight of him made your heart warm, but right now all you wanted to do was punch his beautiful face. 

"Hey babe, are you feeling better?" Jason asked sweetly, his head cocking to one side like an adorable puppy, a strand of his ginger hair fell over his eyes. You resisted the urge to push it out of his face, clenching your hands by your sides and staring at him coldly instead. 

"Yes, last night I began to feel a lot better" you began, he frowned slightly at the monotonous tone you were using. "But then I read this." Veronica handed you 'The Playbook' and you waved it accusingly in Jason's face. You watched as his expression faltered, his cheeks drained of colour and his eyes widened. "I suppose you know what this is?" 

"Y/N, I can explain -" he stammered. 

"Actually" you interrupted, "I think the book is pretty self-explanatory don't you think?" 

You were beginning to attract people's attention now. Teenagers who were previously engrossed in their phones, or engaged in conversation, were suddenly drawn into the confrontation by the lockers. 

"Hey Josie!" You called out to the lead singer of 'The Pussycats', "did you know that Reggie won a whole ten points for kissing you at a party? You're quite a catch, huh? And Val" you continued, turning to the curly-haired girl, "Archie got five points for cheating on you with Cheryl. Didn't you know that? Because it's all recorded in this book." You smiled sweetly at Archie, who was standing just behind Jason, he appeared to be turning a slight green colour and he flashed a guilty look at Val before she stalked down the corridor. 

"For anyone who wants to read 'The Playbook'" Betty chimed in, "I've published a copy in the Blue and Gold, there is a stack of papers in every classroom." There was a moment of silence, and then the room exploded. Students ran towards the closest classroom in order to snatch up a copy of the football team's crime. Jason didn't move though, he was still staring at you with the same pained expression. 

"Y/N, please can we talk about this?" he begged, clearly sensing the unforgiving anger that was radiating off you in waves. 

"There is nothing to talk about" you hissed, trying to hide the hurt in your voice. 

"Please, I'm sorry -" 

"I don't want your meaningless apologies. All I ever was to you was some casual hook-up, a method in which to win a game with your friends" you were almost shouting now. 

"That's not true! I didn't write you into that book!" he answered back, his voice rising too. 

"No, but you told them about us! You let them turn me into a fucking points-system!" 

"I'm sorry, I'll make this up to you. How do I make this better between us? I'll do anything." his voice had dropped to a whisper. 

"You can't do anything except leave me alone. Don't ever speak to me again." The tears you had been holding back spilled from your eyes as you watched Jason's lip quiver, he was shaking his head. Before he had the chance to say anything else, you turned and ran down the corridor, Veronica and Betty following close behind. 

The air was filled with exited chatter, and the scent of sweat and perfume was overwhelming. Music blared, colourful lights flashed, and people huddled in groups, gossiping and dancing. The Blossoms' annual end-of-school party was always one of the most anticipated events in Riverdale, you couldn't quite believe that you had received an invitation after what had happened between you an Jason six months ago. As your anger about 'The Playbook' situation had faded, you couldn't help but feel slightly hollow inside, like something was missing. Despite the fact that several guys had asked you out since the break-up, you didn't feel as though you could accept. As much as you hated to admit it, you were still hung up on Jason. Although Betty understood - she had been in love with Archie for years before Jughead came along and swept her off her feet - Veronica was much less forgiving, encouraging you to 'play the field, assuring you that Jason had probably hooked up with multiple girls since. Although, you hadn't seen any evidence of it. 

"Y/N! Oh my God you came!" You spun around, wobbling slightly on your heels, and widened your eyes at the sight of Cheryl Blossom beaming at you. You had spoken to Cheryl a few times when you had been dating Jason, but definitely not since. You narrowed your eyes slightly in suspicion as Cheryl brought you in for a tight hug. 

"Uh, hi Cheryl. Nice party" you mumbled, still in shock. 

"Of course!" she chimed, then her voice dropped to a whisper. "I really need to talk to you, come with me." Before you could object, she was dragging you upstairs. "JJ is still really messed up about your break-up, he won't even come down for the party!" She pouted, clearly disapproving of her brother's stubbornness. 

"I seriously doubt that" you muttered. 

"You two ended things really badly and he didn't get the chance to properly apologise" she scolded, making you feel as though everything was your fault. "Besides, you have been ignoring his calls." You scowled at her, you had every right to ignore him. You were so busy glaring at Cheryl that you didn't notice where she was taking you. She pushed you gently into one of the numerous rooms that Thornhill consisted of and closed the door behind you with a click. You realised that she had led, or rather trapped, you into Jason's room. Although you had never been there, you recognised the posters of his favourite football team on the walls. As you turned around, your heart began to flutter and your cheeks reddened at the sight of Jason, standing awkwardly next to his bed, fidgeting with his bedcovers. He didn't look surprised to see you, only nervous. 

"Hi" he whispered softly. 

"Hi" you breathed. 

TAGLIST: @kelly27crickett @cjhorseback @rory-is-in-ravenclaw @littlefearsdoodles @happyyjensen @dr-tardis-who

[mxillusion]

mxillusion masterlist

Welcome to my Monsta X Masterlist. Here you can find everything I’ve written so far, sorted by the member. Please let me know if something’s missing or not working, so I can fix it up. Please also check my prompt list, in case you want to request something and/or if you want to see where the prompts were coming from. Happy reading! ♡

Everything marked with a heart is a favorite of mine! 🐻 SHOWNU/SON HYUNWOO ↬ coming soon! 🐰 WONHO/LEE HOSEOK ↬ late night call; drabble; 1000+ words; angst, fluff; no warnings ↬ today's the day; scenario; 2700+ words; fluffy fluff; no warnings 💕 ↬ and then there was you; scenario; 2000+ words; (angst) fluff; no warnings 🐶 LEE MINHYUK ↬ you're perfect, i hate it; scenario; college!AU; 3500+ words; fluff; no warnings 🐹 YOO KIHYUN ↬ romance next door; scenario; neighbor!AU; 4800+ words; fluff; no warnings 💕 �� CHAE HYUNGWON ↬ just give me a sign; scenario; friends to lovers; 2200+ words; fluff; no warnings 💕 🐝 LEE JOOHEON ↬ feels like home; drabble; 453 words; fluff; no warnings 🐺 I.M/CHANGKYUN ↬ up where we belong; scenario; royal!AU; 2200+ words; fluff; no warnings ↬ just misunderstood; scenario; mariage/parents!AU; 2000+ words; angst; no warnings 💕 ↬ the forbidden fruit; drabble; 712 words; fluff/smut?; slightly suggestive

⚜️ SERIES/OT7 SCENARIOS ↬ confession series; shownu // wonho // minhyuk // kihyun // hyungwon // jooheon // I.M

DISCLAIMER; All actions and statements in my stories are fictional and only the source of my imagination. I do not allow any kind of translation and/or reuploads to other websides. Please don't claim as your own. SIDE NOTE; Please feel free to like and reblog this list. Please consider to leave a comment if you've read something to help me improve my writing or simply lighten my day with a cute message. Thank you. ♡

[tiptoe39]

so the good news is i’ve written like 2200 words of excellent benefits today.

The bad news is it’s not even half done!

(Also, there are now three party poopers out there. If you don’t know, don’t ask.)

I said I was gonna post something SSP-related today too but I don’t know if I’ll get to it. (Again, OC asks are a great fuckin way to get me to post something about them! hahaha)

Anyway! I’ve had a great day of writing (and doing some work) today so thank you for the encouragement. It means absolutely EVERYTHING.

[kiingmango]

Smart Egg Unwin

I saw this post, and honestly i dont even know if this fic matches it anymore. It changed a lot. This also was supposed to be like maybe 500 words and then somehow became 2200… I am not british, so i’m sorry if this all sounds extremely american. Gonna tag @alethiaii and @notbrogues who contributed to the post (hope you dont mind me tagging you)

Eggsy had gone through extensive training for an additional four months, while taking missions after v-day and after weeks and weeks of lessons about espionage, he was finally getting his first lesson on tailoring in the shop. He handed in his finished written debrief and took the train to the shop, adjusting himself and fixing his tie. He walks up to Dagonet and gives him a smile.“I’m ready for my lesson,” He states. Dagonet gives him a small smile and shakes his head. “Harry is giving you your lesson. He’s late, as usual, but he’ll be here soon,” He nods and returns to what Eggsy assumes is filing people’s order paperwork. Harry and Eggsy had been spending quite a bit of time together, him giving Eggsy most of his lessons even while he’s busy with being Arthur. Apparently, after a candidate takes their place at the roundtable, their proposal agent will continue to teach them and go on some small joint missions for skill practicing purposes. It’s usually only for a couple of weeks, but Harry had only returned in the last month or two and he was slowly getting used to meeting up with Harry every other day or so to learn a new skill, even if he sometimes already knew it.    

He went into dressing room #1, looking through some of the drawers he wasn’t familiar with. He had just found the drawer for all the measuring equipment when a man knocked on the door and entered a second later. 

“Hi I’m here for my first appointment,” he sounded a bit unsure of himself, shuffling nervously in the doorway.  “The man at the from told me to go ahead in here.” 

Eggsy had never actually measured someone before, but he had once spent four months doing nothing but reading and watching about how to sew up clothes. At that point Dean wasn’t willing to spare any money for new clothes, he was too busy buying beer and drugs to worry about it. So Eggsy learned how to sew up his old clothes, and take ones that were too tattered to fix to make small clothes bigger. That is until people started getting suspicious and Dean had to buy clothes for Eggsy, and later Daisy.

So no, Eggsy had never actually done this before, but he had read six separate articles on suit making and he knew how to measure people. In theory.

“Uhhh come in and we can at least get you started.” Eggsy ushered the man in and took a tape measure from the drawer, swung it around his neck and took out a pen. “My name’s Gary Unwin by the way. My colleague has some important business he’s finishing up and is in turn a bit late, terribly sorry,” Eggsy addresses the issue of Harry’s absence and gestures for the man to stand up on the raised platform.

 “What are you looking for exactly? Are we doing a waistcoat or a two piece..?” He takes the small notepad next to him and jots down the man’s requests, asking the occasional question and throwing in bits of humor for charm. If he’s gonna work in the shop at least 10 hours a month (excluding long-term missions of course) he might as well practice his salesman bit.

 “Alright. Let’s go ahead and get your measurements,” Eggsy put his pen down and walked behind the man, whose name he learned was Tom, and began at the waist. He wanted to take a minimum of 30 measurements, really make sure that the suit was as best fit as possible, and so that if he accidently messed up Harry could have at least a number of options to work with. Twenty measurements in and there was another knock at the door, Harry entering looking as gorgeous as ever, in Eggsy’s opinion.

 “Terribly sorry, caught up in the fabric room,” He walked towards Eggsy’s notepad to see how far along they had gotten, his eyebrows coming together and forming two small lines on Harry’s forehead. “Well it seems Mr. Unwin has you all squared away.” Harry nodded at the two men in the middle of the room, a small pleased smile on his face. He stayed for the rest of the fitting, hovering just behind Eggsy in case he needed him. Ten minutes later Eggsy sent Tom out to Dagonet to set his next appointment, measurements complete, fabric chosen, and his own custom suit in progress. 

 “Where did you learn how to get the correct measurements for making a suit from scratch?” Harry asked, looking at Eggsy as he began putting things away and finalizing his notes. “That was supposed to be your first lesson today. You weren’t even going to measure that man, you were supposed to be measuring me,” Harry was mumbling now, almost to himself more to Eggsy. Eggsy stood to his full height, grabbing his notepad and smacking it against Harry’s chest twice before saying, “Well wouldn’t you like to know.” Eggsy sauntered out of the dressing room feeling smug, and Harry followed closely behind him feeling completely smitten.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Eggsy came back from a brutal three day mission with four weeks of mandatory R&R. Eggsy was, to say the least, not happy. Harry hadn’t seen him in a few days and was a little concerned, not that he thought Eggsy would do anything stupid, he just worried. He finished up the day’s work, cleaned his desk off and headed to the shop, ready to flop into a cab and head home. Maybe enjoy a few fingers of scotch before reading in bed. He’s looking for Dagonet, he always says goodnight like a gentleman should, when he ends up in the back of the shop, finding Eggsy hunched over a table with pattern paper, rulers and a chalk stick in his hand.

 “Eggsy? I haven’t seen you in days, what are you doing?” He briefly looked up from tracing his garment patterns onto his muslin to acknowledge Harry, his hands moving with skill.

“I’ve been spending them back here with Dagonet. Watched him for a couple of days and then mentioned Tom’s suit. He said if I wanted I could do it, since he hasn’t even cut the patterns for it yet.” Eggsy whipped out a pair of scissors from god knows where and cut the muslin with ease, every line precise and not a stray cut in sight.

 “You learned how to measure, draw, and cut your own suit patterns by observing Dagonet for two days?” Harry sounded almost incredulous, but Eggsy still hadn’t looked up from his delicate work when he said “Yes, Harry.” And didn’t that just drive cupid’s arrow deeper into Harry’s old heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

 Tom came in for his second fitting two weeks after Harry found Eggsy cutting the patterns, and Eggsy made sure he was free that week. He greeted Tom with a smile, made excuses for his sprained wrist (which he had received in the caribbean last week, so it was mostly healed) and led him back to the same fitting room they had used before. 

“Your trousers are mostly complete, I’ll just need to finish the inseam and any final alterations if need be. Your jacket and waistcoat will take longer, and today I’ll put you in the pieces and make adjustments.” Eggsy gave a shy smile, probably more nervous than Tom was about how the pieces would fit. He quickly retrieved the three piece suit from his claimed work table and slipped back into the room, handing them over to his first client. He moved in the jacket and trousers for a bit and got back on the platform.

“Trousers are perfect. Great fit and move. The waistcoat is a bit large around here,” He gestured to his pectorals and Eggsy nodded, committing to memory everything Tom said. “The sleeves are a bit uncomfortable around my shoulders,” Eggsy nodded once again and stepped up to Tom, helping him adjust the sleeves and pinching here and there.

“So as strange as this sounds, I’m actually going to make these armholes a bit smaller. It’ll make for a better fit,” He went from the bottom and tucked a bit of the fabric in, pinning it with a small pin. He finished up the adjustments and final measurements, took out the pins and shook Tom’s hand.

 “Dagonet will set your pickup date but it shouldn’t be more than two or three weeks. I pick stitch the suit by hand so it takes a bit longer but it is definitely worth it.” Tom left the room and behind him Harry came through the door, closing it softly and sending a short grin towards Eggsy as he cleaned up his area. 

“You pick stitch as well?” Harry was surprised Eggsy was doing it by hand. It definitely was worth it, as he had said, but it took a skilled hand to do so. “Done it before,” Eggsy replied, finally looking up. “Dean didn’t care about buying clothes for a twelve year old so I got used to stitching up stuff, puttin two and two together.” Eggsy shrugged while putting the tailored suit on it’s hanger. Harry always felt a sense of dread when Eggsy talked about his childhood, and he shook away the feeling and gave him a wry smile. “Well I look forward to seeing the finished project,” and with a final nod he left the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

True to his word Eggsy finished the suit in record time, hand did the pick stitches, finished the inseam of the trousers and pressed it to perfection. He left for a five day mission in Dubai as soon as he had bagged the suit. Eggsy knew it was unlikely he would be back before Tom came to pick up his custom suit, but Harry assured Eggsy that it was perfect, and waved as the plane flew away. He still had a stack of papers (financial statements, debriefs to sign off on) but he instead decided to head to the shop and take a peek at Eggsy’s suit. Agents needed to learn only basic tailoring skills, taking measurements and finer details, but Eggsy had completed this suit by himself, from start to finish.

 To say Harry was proud of his dedication was an understatement. Eggsy had surprised him with just how much he knew, how capable and smart he really was, and taking a look at the finished product he was a damn good tailor. The prick stitching was flawless, seams pulled together in a gorgeous finish, buttons and fabric matching, and the lining tucked to perfection. Tom would be very pleased indeed. Merlin came into the room shortly after Harry had zipped the bag up, clipboard in hand.

 “What are you doing here?” Harry asked.

“I could ask you the same thing, because I remember dropping off a file of new driver candidates in your office not twenty minutes ago,” Merlin finished writing on his clipboard and looked up at Harry, who was attempting to look as innocent as possible. “Eggsy asked me to look at his suit,” Merlin replied to his earlier question and unzipped the bag once again, pushing it aside to take a look of the three piece.

“I don’t know why he would, what with your taste in jumpers.” Harry sniffed, trying to hide his smile. Merlin snorted at him, his own grin forming.

 “He made this by himself?” Merlin’s brows drew together, even as a smirk creeped on his face. “He’s one smart lad,” The bag was once again zipped up, suit safely tucked inside. Merlin directed his smirk to Harry.

 “Oh you’re screwed,” Merlin laughed as he left, leaving Harry to stare at the proof of Eggsy’s genius. He sighed, “I am utterly screwed.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eggsy made it back to the shop a whole day early, looking completely exhausted. He took a shower, and promptly fell asleep on the couch in Merlin’s office for fourteen hours. Harry put a blanket over him when he went to go give Merlin his candidate decisions. Harry knew Eggsy wanted to see the suit through to the end, so twenty minutes before Tom would arrive he got Eggsy up. A quick change and train ride later Eggsy stood in the shop, arms placed behind him and waiting for Tom to walk through the door. He didn’t have to wait long, he walked through the door right on time. Eggsy greeted him with a handshake and Harry grabbed his suit from the back.

“Thank you, Harry.” Eggsy took the bag from his hand and gestured towards dressing room #1.

“Shall we?” Tom smiled and said yes, and Eggsy placed the bag on a hook. He pulled the suit out and presented it to his first ever client, feeling a swell of pride in himself when Tom’s grin overtook his face at the sight of his custom three piece. He helped him into the suit, smoothing it down.

“It’s a perfect fit,” Tom laughed and thanked Eggsy profusely for his time, which he returned with a simple and heartfelt, “It was my complete pleasure.”

The appointment was almost underwhelming with how quickly it was over, considering how much time this one set of clothing had taken. Harry came into the room and smiled at Eggsy, admiring the glowing smile he had on. 

“It looked amazing, my dear boy,” Harry moved to his side, and slowly wrapped an arm around Eggsy’s waist. “I was wondering, if you wanted to go out to dinner to celebrate.” Eggsy’s smile grew bigger.

“Yes, Harry.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hope yall enjoyed it at least a little bit :) I also tried to keep this as Eggsy centered as possible so let me know how I did!

[odekiisu]

Tagged by @ladydomini

Do This: List all the things you’re currently working on in as much or as little detail as you’d like, then tag some friends to see what they’re working on. This can be writing, arts, gifsets, whatever.

Fanfic/fanart:

I’m fumbling through my Estonian War of Independence AU, for which I have written approximately 2200 words and finished 4 pictures, with a few more unfinished ones.

Original fic/art:

I’m not exactly working on it right now but I do sometimes think about my Viking/Sci-fi original story.

Art-wise, there’s a collection of paintings I’ve got sketched out and one painted about ‘unnatural bodies’, as a giant ‘fuck you’ to everyone who’s called my corseted figure unnatural as if that’s a bad thing. (Currently on pause because I’m mostly just sewing. Speaking of which...)

Sewing:

I’ve got an unfinished purple satin bustle dress that I started like 2 years ago sitting in a box that I just got the motivation to finish. I will start working on it today.

I kind of abandoned it when I realised it doesn’t look anywhere near historically accurate because of the flobby undergarments and bad choice of fabric and trim, so I started working on another 1870s bustle dress project, which I’m still mostly in the planning stage of, but I’ve done 2 corset mockups and almost finished a (steel boned!) bustle with a button-on petticoat.

Also halfway through a pair of gaiters, because why not. I just need to gather the courage to finish all the hand-bound buttonholes.

Tagging - if you want to do this: @somecorpse, @creepycreepyspacewizard, @redonethegreat (I know you have a bunch of unfinished things!), and any other followers who create things.

[galactic-pirates]

The NaNo Report: Day Eight

Hallelujah there were some words!

Today I procrastinated a lot but I eventually did the reading for one of my modules for next week (that took pretty much all day). Then at 5pm I decided it was writing time.

I worked on the Garcy Celeb/Fan AU for Ripper because it’s the thing closest to being finished (so I can cross something off my list). It was like pulling teeth. I’m going to get down on my knees and beg for a beta as I think it’s awful and I can’t put it out into the world like it is BUT that’s a December problem.

Most of today’s words were written at the end as I really, really struggled to get going. However I discovered if I actually use my second monitor life is easier (how do you forget this self?) and also I really am motivated by small numbers ticking down and then ‘just one more’.

Words written: 1540 Total count: 1688

I’ve reached day one’s pace! *cough* on day eight. My word debt is currently 11,645 words which is quite a lot. It’s an extra 530 words a day spread out over the remaining 22 days of the month. That makes for basically 2200 words a day which is more than I’ve written in a day since... quite possibly 2016.

Looking back historically I overcame a 12,747 word debt to win back in 2013 but the situation was different. I really don’t know if I can do it again.

Anyway right now I’m set to finish June 25th 2019 which I’m finding slightly amusing so at least there’s that :)

[chocolatequeennk]

Write all the Words, 4/4

Well, here we are. I finished the draft of FANA tonight. It’s just shy of 185K. Considering the 170K rough draft of TISAF became 275K, and considering that there are whole chapters I haven’t even drafted yet ones that fall in between episodes), it’s pretty much a safe bet that this story will be over 300K when all is said and done. 

I’m closing the draft as soon as I post this. I will not think about this story for two weeks, while I cleanse my writing palate with other things--and maybe read a few books while I’m at it!

Also today, I wrote almost 2200 words of meta on GITF. Tomorrow, I’ll be polishing a half-written fic that goes with said meta. 

And the excerpt. Since this is the last for a while, I really wanted one that highlighted the Doctor and Rose’s relationship, as well as how amazing Rose is. I love the way I rewrote the scene where they’re all flying the Earth back home, and since it’s not particularly spoilery as to plot, here you go.

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The Doctor pushed back from the console. “Now then, you lot.” He hustled Sarah Jane back to her earlier position and pointed at a lever. “Sarah, hold that down. Mickey, you hold that,” he added, pointing to a dial.

On the other side of the console, Rose was showing Martha, Donna, and Jenny which controls they could use. “Because you know why this TARDIS always is always rattling about the place?” he asked as Rose took the last place, holding the ship at a steady pace. She looked up and winked at the Doctor, and he grinned back at her before crossing his arms over her chest to nod approvingly as the TARDIS settled into a smooth flight.

“It’s designed to have six pilots, and Rose and I do it with just two. But not any more. Look at you, flying her like she’s meant to be flown.” He patted a strut. “We’ve got the Torchwood Rift looped around the TARDIS by Mister Smith, and we’re going to fly Planet Earth back home.”

He shrugged at Jackie and Pete. “No room for us at the console, though.”

Jackie stared at Rose. “That’s my daughter.”

The Doctor nodded. “Yes, it is.”

“And she’s… She just looks like she belongs here.”

Pride beat through the Doctor’s hearts as he watched Rose operate her own controls, while also helping Jenny and Donna, who stood on either side of her. He stepped forward quickly to adjust Sarah Jane’s hold on her lever, then looked back at Jackie.

“I know this isn’t the life you imagined for Rose when she was a girl, but I’ve never met anyone in a thousand years who belonged on the TARDIS as much as she does.” He rubbed his thumb over his wedding band. “I lived this life without her for centuries, and she just makes everything so much better.”