#I'm writing fic when I should go to sleep

[ellecdc]

About the onde bed trope… since there aren’t a lot of those, I was wondering if you could write one with reader and wolfstar? Maybe a smut or just something fluff

hi babes! so I got this request right after someone had asked for recommendations for one-bed tropes, which I had only ever read one and shared it. SO, I wanted to remind everyone of the cute wolfstar x reader one bed fic I read by @longlivedelusion, and know that while I'm happy to contribute to this super fun trope with our lovely wolfstar, that it was more than likely inspired by their awesome work linked above!

poly!wolfstar x Potter!reader who have to share a bed [2.8k words]

CW: mutual pining, feelings of 3rd wheeling, fluff, potter family

The hotel was bustling with what appeared to be just as many staff as there were patrons waiting in the lobby.

Bags were being whisked away, key cards were being handed to waiting hands, and nearly every second person was wearing a Manchester United jersey. 

James was positively giddy and practically vibrating with excitement, Lily and Regulus had their faces shoved into Lily’s phone as they (re)read the itinerary they had planned for James’ birthday trip, Remus arched his shoulders as he let his duffle fall to the ground and Sirius murmured promises of a back massage when they got to their room, and you people watched. 

Your parents had given James (and all of his friends) tickets to the Manchester home game and a few nights stay at a posh hotel close to the stadium.

Lily and Regulus, being James’ dutiful partners, planned other things for the lot of you to do while you were here, too.

Right now, however, you wanted nothing more than to get to your room, take a shower to wash the train off of your being, and go to sleep.

Mercifully the check in counter cleared and your group stepped up to the waiting concierge. 

“Hi there! We’re checking in for Potter; group of six.” Lily offered primly as she handed the man a copy of the booking number. 

“Right! Okay, so Potter, two rooms, each with a king, for three nights.” The man read from the screen, looking over in concern when six varied protests sounded from the group.

“No, I’m quite sure it’s meant to be three rooms.” Lily corrected quickly, offering you a worried glance before she nearly leaned over the welcome desk to peer at the computer monitor as if she was ready to take over for the concierge. 

The man hummed as he continued tapping keys and clicking his mouse and scrolling and please for the love of God don’t let there be a mix up.

It was going to be you that was the problem; not Lily and Regulus who were counting on a romantic trip to celebrate their boyfriend, and not Remus and Sirius with their long-established relationship and promises of Remus’ massage.

“The booking is only showing two rooms, uhm, let me just confirm with my manager that I’m not missing anything.” He bumbled awkwardly before standing and all but fleeing from the group of you. 

“It’s probably just a mistake.” James offered quickly as he jostled your shoulder. “With this many people here, the system is probably just lagging.”

But it wasn’t just a mistake and the system wasn’t just lagging and there was very much only two rooms booked under Potter.

“Is there any way we can book a third room? It can go on the same card.” You asked meekly, nervously glancing between the manager and the computer. 

“Unfortunately, the hotel is entirely booked.” She offered you with a pained smile, and just from your survey of the lobby while you’d been waiting in line, you knew that had to be true. 

“Do you have any cots we could have sent up to the rooms?” Lily asked hopefully, earning another grimace from the manager which was all the response you needed.

You could feel the group looking at you awkwardly and you immediately regretted even coming; you should have just left James to celebrate his birthday with his partners and best friends and stayed out of it, but instead, you were the troublesome younger sibling who your parents forced the group to bring along. Maybe you could catch a train back home? Maybe you could catch a train a town or two over and just have your own mini vacation and leave them to their celebrations.

“Don’t worry, bug!” James said as he rubbed your arm roughly before reaching over you to grab the keys to the two rooms from the concierge who was clearly now only waiting for the lot of you to bugger off so he could help the people behind you. “We’ll make this work.”

“You shouldn’t have to make it work, Jamie.” You moaned as your group moved to stand against a wall across the lobby as you all tried to problem solve this. 

“Both rooms have just one bed each, right? Do either of them have a sofa?” Regulus asked first.

“The pictures online didn’t look like it; the rooms had the bed, one grandfather chair, and a desk with a rolling desk chair.” Lily responded. 

“Okay, well, both rooms have king sized beds, we can share.” Sirius offered simply, causing you to nearly whimper.

“I’m not going to impose on anyone’s beds.” You murmured as you stared resolutely at your feet.

“You can share with me! It’ll be like the old days when we’d have a “sleepover” in the living room!” James offered excitedly, and you had to hand it to him for his sense of adventure and enthusiasm, but you couldn’t help but notice the quick glance Lily and Regulus shared.

“It’s your birthday weekend, Jamie, you should get to spend it with your partners.”

“Okayyyy, uhm, what about the girls room together and boys room together?” He offered instead, causing Lily to furrow her brows at him.

“But then two of us will be sharing while four of you will be sharing.” She countered, followed up quickly by Regulus who stated he would not, under any circumstances, be sharing a bed with his brother. 

“No, you’re right, erm, well… Me, Pads, and Moony could share-”

“James, I love you, but you’re terrible at this.” Sirius interrupted before turning his gaze to you. “You should just stay with me and Moons; leave these three to their…canoodling.” He said around a theatrical gag. 

“You guys were probably looking forward to a romantic stay too.” You muttered somewhat petulantly, and that was what nearly brought you to the brink of tears.

Not that you were the figurative sixth wheel, not that you were left without a room and imposing on two relationships, and not even that you felt particularly out of place.

No, the thing that nearly brought you to tears was the fact that you were acting so petulant on your brother's birthday which he had been so incredibly excited for.

You would not ruin this for him, for any of them. 

“No, you know what, sorry, you’re right, Sirius. I’ll pile the extra bedding they keep in the closets and make myself a little nest on the floor, it’ll be like camping!” You decided, pasting on the widest smile you could muster. 

You swore you saw Sirius’ face fall slightly but powered on when James was back to clapping his hands together excitedly. “Brilliant! This will be so fun, and so worth it, bug. Don’t you worry.”

And you were worried, but he didn’t need to know that. 

ʚ ═══·୨ ꕤ ୧·═══ ɞ

“You’re not actually going to sleep on the floor, right doll?” Sirius asked after the hotel door shut with a click behind him as he glanced around the room. 

It was perhaps a bit tight, but if you set up your little nest underneath the window, neither boy should trip over you in the middle of the night should they need to use the loo.

“Oh it’ll be fine.” You offered in what you hoped was convincing nonchalance. 

“I really think the bed is big enough, dove. And Sirius usually latches onto me in the night so you shouldn’t even notice we’re there.” Remus offered gently, watching as you flung the closet doors open to procure the extra bedding. 

“S’not my fault, moons.” Sirius countered as he trailed right on your heels to where you were trying to make your ‘nest’. “You keep the thermostat so sodding low, I’d simply freeze to death if you didn’t share your body heat.”

He ignored your indignant “oi!” as he immediately plucked your pillows and blankets off the floor from where you’d placed them and moved them to the end of the bed. “And, I think you do that on purpose; you like cuddling.” He continued, gently swatting at your hands as you tried to reclaim your makeshift bed. 

“Oh, I love cuddling.” Remus agreed readily, clearly ignoring the fact that you and Sirius were currently in a petty squabble over linens. “What I don’t like is being jolted awake to your ice cold feet being shoved under my thighs at three o'clock in the morning- dove.” He gave you a pointed look with one arched eyebrow as you huffed petulantly and crossed your arms. 

“You are not sleeping on the floor, doll. Your parents paid for the sodding rooms.” Sirius claimed resolutely. 

“They were meant to pay for three rooms so that you two would have some privacy.” You argued.

“You’re really the only one upset about this, babes.” He stated, face softening when you nervously pulled your lip between your teeth. “If you’re worried about space, I’ll take the floor.”

“I don’t want you to take the floor.”

“Then I’ll take-” Remus started, but was interrupted when both you and Sirius spat “you’re not sleeping on the floor, Remus” and “like fuck you’re sleeping on the floor, don’t be ridiculous”, respectively. 

“So those are your choices, sweetheart; I take the floor or we share the bed.” 

After this many years of knowing each other, you knew when Sirius was bluffing, and you knew when it was better to fold; with the no nonsense look that currently adorned his face, you knew that those were, indeed, your only options.

You looked over at the bed wearily; it really was quite large…and you could use your own blanket so that you weren’t encroaching on their space or stealing their blankets. 

The problem was that the bed wasn’t the only problem. It also was very much the fact that you were pretty well completely gone for two of your brothers best friends.

Two of your brothers best friends who were very much dating each other. 

Two of your brothers best friends who were dating each other that you were completely gone for and now forced to share a bed with them. 

Awesome. 

ʚ ═══·୨ ꕤ ୧·═══ ɞ

Sirius just about died when you stepped out of the bathroom with wet hair leaving damp patches on your sleep shirt and your legs on full display thanks to the matching shorts.

He just about died again when you caught him staring at you.

He nearly died a third time when Remus’ pointed clearing of his throat was what finally broke him from the trance you had on him; both he and Remus now red in the face while you looked to be fairing little better as you hid behind your wet hair and fussed with your toiletries instead of looking at either of them.

Sirius felt horribly pathetic - years of living with the Potter’s did absolutely nothing to dim the flame he held for you, nor did the physical space that living with Remus in their own flat for the past few years offered him.

The only thing that made his infatuation slightly less embarrassing was the fact that Remus held a similar flame for you, too. 

So while this was sort of everything he’d ever wanted - spending the night in a bed with two people he was absolutely crazy about - he was equally afraid of making you horribly uncomfortable. 

“Smooth.” Remus muttered as he came up behind Sirius only after you’d gone back into the bathroom to brush your teeth.

Sirius wanted to turn and sneer at his boyfriend. “I know I am” danced on the tip of his tongue; his usual suave blaseness in all its glory rearing its head at the insinuation that Sirius was anything but a certified charmer.

But all that managed to leave Sirius’ lips was a breathy “fuck” as he stared decisively at the space you’d been standing previously.

But before Sirius could spend any (more) time spiralling or Remus could offer words of encouragement (or commiseration), you were tentatively sliding into what the three of you had agreed would be your side.

Your side. 

The sentiment made Sirius stomach dip; after all these years he was finally getting a taste of what he’d always wanted.

Yet it wasn’t enough.

The lights were off and Sirius’ back was pressed into Remus’ chest as they both watched the steady rise and fall of your shoulders as you slept. They’d both felt so tired on the train ride here, yet neither of them could bring themselves to close their eyes when the alternative was getting to see you rest in their bed.

“Is this really happening?” Remus whispered quietly then, causing Sirius to snuggle impossibly further into him.

“Feels like a dream.” Sirius whispered back; his hand itching to reach out and twirl a lock of your drying hair around his finger, to encourage you to roll over so that they could see your pretty face, to pull you into him and hold you close. 

Remus tightened his hold around Sirius and pushed his nose into his shoulder. “We should tell her; need to tell her… this weekend.” 

Sirius shook his head, but it wasn’t in disagreement. Rather, it was in exasperation.

“I can’t believe she can’t tell how crazy we are about her.” 

And Sirius nearly died a fourth time in one night when you seemingly shot up out of a dead sleep and spun to face them. 

“You’re what?” You asked; no hints of sleep in your tone (nor your wild eyes) as you stared at them incredulously. 

“Fuck.” Sirius repeated eloquently as he and Remus both sat up, the latter leaning over to turn on a lamp causing both you and Sirius to wince as your eyes adjusted.

“I thought you were asleep?” Sirius accused then, but you didn’t take the bait. 

“You’re…what about me?” You whispered carefully.

“Crazy.” Remus responded quickly; whether he was braver than Sirius or opting to rip the bandaid off, Sirius didn’t know. “We’re crazy about you.”

You made a breathy sound, almost as if you were going to ask “what” or “why” or “when” before the question died on your lips. 

Sirius stared at you in wait; he didn’t know whether you were about to cry, whether you were going to demand they let you build a ‘nest’ on the floor so you could escape them, or whether you were going to call your folks and ask them to pick you up.

So when your face broke out into a slow, still disbelieving but equally relieved grin, well…he’d be damned. 

“Yeah?” You asked hopefully, eyes swimming with unshed tears as you nervously looked between the two of them. 

“Yeah…” Sirius let out with a breath, daring to reach across the expanse of the bed that the three of you had clearly decided would be a no-man zone and delighting when you eagerly accepted his hand in yours.

“We thought you were asleep, dove.” Remus offered gently, and a shy smile crept across your face as you shook your head, a lone tear trailing down your cheek that your free hand was quick to wipe away.

“Couldn’t.”

“Why not?” Sirius cooed pathetically, rubbing along your knuckles with his thumb as he took your inability to sleep to be a personal offence. 

“Was too busy thinking about how crazy I am about the two of you, too.” You admitted in a whisper, and Sirius wondered if he had even frozen long enough to share more than a 0.35 second glance with Remus before he bodily launched himself and tackled you to the bed before peppering your face with kisses as you squealed.

“You mean-” kisses “to tell me-” more kisses as you giggled “that we could have been doing this” you squealed as he nipped at your collar bone “this whole sodding time!?” 

“Oi!” Remus chided teasingly. “Don’t maul her!” Though his statement was severely undermined when he all but pulled you into his lap to press his own rough kiss to the side of your face. 

“Oh, I’m just getting started.” Sirius threatened with a beaming smile as you looked at him breathlessly; eyes bright, smile wide, and heart full. “We have lost time to make up for.” 

ʚ ═══·୨ ꕤ ୧·═══ ɞ

Enough was enough, quite frankly. The tiptoeing, the dancing, the shy glances, the longing looks - it was all too much.

Something simply needed to be done.

Was it temerarious? Perhaps. Was it conniving? More than slightly. But was it also necessary? Most definitely.

She only hoped that she hadn’t gone too far, is all.

But any worries that Euphemia Potter may have had vanished entirely the second that her phone buzzed with a text from James the next morning that simply read: it worked.

[firenati0n]

hello friends :) i am so sorry i have been...so behind on all things tag games and writing challenges. i have been riding the struggle bus and i am Doing My Best but a lot of things have suffered in the meantime, like writing consistently. thank you so much for continuing to tag me in these, it means a lot that people think of me or read my work. i will always be grateful for my friends and readers and everyone who shows me kindness. anyway, many thanks as always! <3 much love for y'all.

i have been posting random prompt fics and drabbles here and there, while slowly updating people ruin people as inspiration strikes. I also made a fun graphic for proposal au and people ruin people! i hope to get back into the swing of things soon. not rushing it though, because rest is important. but i don't do well with stillness, you know? I'm not used to that. but i hope y'all have enjoyed the random words in recent weeks! i have written some things I'm very proud of and happy with in the prompt collection especially. and people ruin people is truly a stretch of my writing muscles...I'm not used to angst. but it's fun! it's hard, too. but so far people have been very kind about it!

here's a long snip from a flufftober prompt for ingredients and spells, it will be a little sequel / extension of the kiki's delivery service au / warlock!henry and baker!alex i posted a while back!

Henry is eight, and he can’t sleep.  The trees outside are too big, their shadows too scary in his window as the wind makes the branches thump against the glass. He rubs at his eyes before digging his head in his pillow again, hoping sleep claims him. From underneath his door, light filters in from the hallway—his mother is probably in the kitchen, grinding herbs and ingredients for her potions.  If there’s anyone who can help him, it’s her. “Oh, my little love,” she says, when Henry walks into the kitchen, knowing he looks as miserable as he feels. “Are we having trouble sleeping?” He nods. “I have just the thing.” She flits around, grabbing leaves and powders from the cupboard to grind before mixing everything in a pot. The smell of chamomile and honey fills the kitchen, warm and comforting.  She pours the potion into two mugs and hands one to Henry with a soft smile. “This should help, my darling. Here, I’ll drink it with you.” They both sip their drinks in comfortable silence. Henry can already feel the magical effects of the brew in his body, limbs starting to sag, head feeling heavy. His eyelids flutter, and Catherine notices.  “Up we go,” she says, before putting the mugs in the sink and scooping Henry up in her arms. He is warm, and he is safe, and he is sleepy.  After he’s all tucked in, duvet up to his chin, he sneaks an arm out to clutch his mother’s shirt as she moves to get off the bed.  “Please,” he pleads quietly. "Not yet." She settles in next to him, slender fingers carding through his hair as she hums. He drifts off, the smell of tea and honey blanketing him. He never learns what was in the brew. Catherine calls it her secret recipe, just for Henry. 

xoxo roop

+ open tag + tagging back everyone who got me in the past few weeks. it's been a while afjslkdjfklasdf

@seths-rogens @sherryvalli @sophie1973 @orchidscript @cha-melodius

@whimsymanaged @kiwiana-writes @alasse9 @porcelainmortal @wordsofhoneydew

@firstprincehornyramblings @run-for-chamo-miles @miharaikko @blueeyedgrlwrites @onthewaytosomewhere

@cultofsappho @ninzied @sparklepocalypse @clottedcreamfudge @zwiazdziarka

@clockwrkpendrxgon @milowren29 @thesleepyskipper @msmarvelouswinchester @caterpills

@suseagull04 @judasofsuburbia @getmehighonmagic @onward--upward @stellarmeadow

@welcometololaland @indestructibleheart @miss-minnelli @thedramasummer @priincebutt

@incalamity @stratocumulusperlucidus @leaves-of-laurelin @14carrotghoul @anincompletelist

[happinessisntfun]

I think the Spirit soundtrack is woefully underused in the Red Dead fandom. Brothers Under the Sun? Sound the Bugle?!!? Come on we're sleeping on horribly devastating songs to put in our playlists!

[anxiouspotionofgloom]

Day 1 - A Memory In Amber (Cooking Together)

[Hi! I've decided to try the @hot-scarian-summer-2024 ! Can't promise I'll do all days, and I'm really sorry if I mess up anything: it's my first time trying to participate into an online thing, and it's making me really anxious but we persevere! Also please forgive me it's a bit rushed, things just keep happening to me T-T. Awesome day/night to you all!]

-

"Grian-" The words are breathless, almost on the run, and he can feel the tell-tale signs of Scar flying a little too close - a loud woosh followed by the sounds of crushed gravel. 

With a practiced ease, Grian steadies him, rolling his eyes as Scar dusts himself off. As distinguished as he wants to be, he couldn't really fool anyone. 

"Just the man I wanted to see!" His eyes sparkle as he smiles, and there's that familiar feeling in his stomach - a roll and a twist all at once, a rollercoaster ending right into the vulnerable flesh of his belly - and Grian already knows he'll fall for whatever scam the other is preparing.

- 

"You want me to cook for you?" Grian can't erase the incredulity out of his tone, and Scar winces in turn.

"No! Not really!" His hands dance, waiving in and out of his space as if he could convince him further by speaking with his whole body instead of only his words. "We would be cooking together."

The grass crumples against his shoes when he wordlessly starts to walk, and Grian doesn't have to wait for the tip tap of Scar's cane to know the other will follow. The two of them are like that sometimes, human-sized stars waiting to collide.

Still, the whole ordeal fails to make sense in his eyes - and even if it's Scar, there are not many of his ideas that so completely escape his sense of understanding. "You want me to help you cook... for you and someone else?" 

"Well..." The word trails off, and in the ill-fitted silence his mind tries to picture this nebulous person, the one worth this much effort on a Friday night. 

If Grian's honest with himself, in the quick second it takes to remember Scar's earnest face as he'd asked for help, he's just the tiniest bit jealous. And pissed. The two emotions mix in his guts and leave him with an acidic aftertaste.

Scar fumbles through an explanation all the way to his base. 

-

"So. What was your idea?" 

"For?" 

Grian can already feel himself grow irritated at his future cooking assistant - big green eyes blinking in confusion at him. There's something he does not dare name stirring in his chest: it feels awfully like drowning. "For cooking obviously. Unless you need me to clean the place too?" 

It sounds defensive. Scar is quick to pick up on it too, and Grian tries not to let the analytical look resting on his back win. 

"Are you okay? You look... tired." It's a kind way of describing his frown. Feeling the tiny claws of culpability sink into his heart, Grian swallows any leftover irritation and clears his throat, just to be sure. "Sorry. I'm assuming you have a meal in mind?"

It's only when he turns to speak face to face that Grian realizes - Scar is close, skirting the edges of his personal space, and there's a hesitating hand stretched his way. It hangs in the air for a heavy moment, and in the time it takes for an unsteady breath to rattle his lungs, it retreats back to its owner. Grian shudders all the same, and hopes the weather is cold enough to justify it. 

Continuing as if nothing happened, Scar answers. "Well, at first no, but then I asked around for the best dish to make for a date and-"

Grian almost chokes. "You're having a date?"

Right here and then, the need to turn back and bury himself at the bottom of the sea is almost strong enough for him to run away.

-

"You had to ask my help for pasta?"

Scar smiles, a sheepish expression on his face that would be cute if Grian could stop picturing the very same face lit up by candlelight, smiling at someone that wasn't him. He hates, hates the situation this impossible man has put him in, and yet his heart softens as Scar speaks. 

As much as he despises what's happening, there's no denying that Scar is hard to hate. He's annoying, sure. A bit careless, definitely. But at the end of the day, when the dying sun hits his face just right - molten gold staining the brown halo of his hair, emerald eyes looking at him as if Grian was something precious - well. There's only so much a man can handle before his fingers shake with the need to reach out and touch.

(Nobody blames the sea for kissing the white sand of the shore: nobody stops a volcano from erupting. Those things just happen.)

Grian only tunes back in at the end of Scar's speech, something about judging people and trying out new things. Half of it derails from the original point, but Scar smiles confidently through it all. Even then, Grian kind of wants to punch him in his perfect little teeth, for giving him a taste of something he will not get to have.

-

"Void help me, if you put this spoon into your mouth, I will kick you out of this kitchen."

Scar pouts. "I don't see why it's such a big deal, the water is boiling, so it's gonna get disintegrated anyways!"

Unyielding, he does not stop glaring until the aforementioned spoon is well away from the steaming pot of pasta. "I don't care about disinfecting the  spoon, it is disgusting, and I'm sure that your date will agree with me here."

Something in Scar's eyes shines, and his stomach twists unhappily at his own reminder that Scar won't be alone tonight. "You think?" It sounds happy, and Grian hates himself for the burning need to twist the knife deeper.

"Do I know them?" 

There's a second of confusion on Scar's face, before an easy smile overtakes it. "You can say that, yeah." 

Frustration bubbles in his chest. If only Scar would stop being so damn deliberately obtuse about the identity of that mysterious date! It's not like he'd do something drastic about it. Too much of a coward to willingly expose himself like that.

I don't want you to date anyone, he swallows back again and again as the meal shapes itself together. I wanted to be the one you chose. None of the words pass the airtight wall of his teeth. Instead, all that comes out of it is a forced "Let's work on that sauce."

He'd said it himself: Grian was a coward.

-

He feels dumb, standing in the middle of the kitchen as they wait for the food to cool down. 

Untying the knot of his apron - aiming for nonchalant and landing quite a few meters away, right into something like dread, Grian asks. "So. When are they getting here?" 

For the first time of the night, Scar's face morphs into something anxious, like he's not quite sure of where to go from now on. 

Gently, he sets the plates on the table, watching Grian in the corner of his eyes all the while. "About that."

There's a hopeful smile on his face, looking slightly strained around the edges. There's a hopeful smile on his face as Scar looks straight at him.

A horribly promising realization starts to tickle the back of his head. All at once, the dots connect, as fast as it takes for the electrical impulse in his brain to reach his heart and make it skip a beat. There are a million words fleeting through his mind, an entire vocabulary flying out the window, and all that comes out of his gobsmacked mouth is "You."

"I thought. You know. You, me, and a meal I-" Sensing the murderous intent forms before his eyes, Scar corrects himself. "We cooked, I thought it would be a good idea?" 

Grian stands still, eyes flickering in between the two plates set on the table and Scar. Truly, there's no words to be had. His hand grips the back of the chair a bit too tight, and Scar grimaces. "It doesn't have to be a date, of course, it could be a totally platonic dinner with candles in between- friends." 

It's enough to snap Grian back into reality. "Oh no you don't! You- Yo made me cook a meal for an hour-" Cutting Scar short with an accusatory finger against his chest, he continues. "Don't pretend you were anything remotely close to useful." 

Getting closer, he tries to muster all the damned annoyance and self-control it took to go this far. Scar doesn't look very assured. Good. "You made me miserable, and now you're trying to back out?"

The other's face does some strange gymnastics then, but Scar had always been quick to understand the underlying thought in his words, and Grian, despite the way fury ran through his veins, couldn't help but mirror the slow smile on his face.

Hesitancy fading away as Grian gripped the front of his shirt, Scar held both his cheeks in his hands, as gentle as he'd imagined it to be, in the dark of the night, burning from the embers of a forgotten dream. 

The smile on Scar's face looks awfully close to a confession, and the raw feeling in his chest melts into something much more pleasant. "I'm sorry. Let me make it up to you?"

"You better."

[hailsatanacab]

oof owie hello it’s chapter 17!

[t-lostinworlds]

the cons, for me, as a picky reader as well as being a writer when it comes to reading fics as bedtime (i.e. 1am) stories is: a. the fic is so good I can't stop thinking about it which will then inspire me to continue a WIP or create a new idea entirely OR b. the fic isn't written well or is just not the best (again: for me, miss picky reader) which would then inspire me to continue a WIP or create a new idea entirely. Either way, I'm not getting any sleep so the term "bedtime story" is lost on me bc I'm more wired than ever before

[disdaidal]

So I think I'm finally getting a contract and I'm going to start my new studies (as a youth/school counselor) in my old school. I met the principal today and had a talk with him, and he said he was pleased to see me there and would like to have me there because I already know my way around and seemed to manage things just fine when I was still their student. So, that's great, I'm finally getting somewhere.

But I'll have to wait until Friday because he's still not quite sure who's going to be my supervisor, so he's going to have a talk with a couple of staff members about it at first.

And then my teacher in my new school is already pressing me with contract matters and stuff, wanting me to start earlier than I had originally planned or at least get the contract done by then, so uhh. I'm going to have a Teams meeting with her on Friday at 8 o'clock in the morning (I'm not a morning person at all), and I'm sure we're going to have such a lovely discussion about my schedule and study plans and all that stuff.

All this phone-calling and paperwork is giving me a headache. And I still have some school assignments to do and to return before next week, and guess what - ya girl just wants to read and write fanfiction all day and all night. 🤪 Priorities, I has them.

[batri-jopa]

[teddybeartoji]

😭😭😭😭😭😭 wanna flex my gaming skills but i don't think many of you are gamers so i can't really do it noooooo😭😭😭😭😭😭 just trust me when i say that i am a god okay just trust me i would never lie i promise anyway i'm talking about tlou2 no return i was doing so well whewwww anyway i missed my girls abby n ellie sm feels so good to have them back with me yayy

[star-named-riddle]

Why am I like this?

Guess who got their hands on a prompt that's a dozen words long and is now 23 thousand words deep into it? Yep, it me.

I decided I wasn't going to collect another wip, so the first 15K is part one.

Part two is already 8K and nowhere near being done

Yes, this is about @womenofthehouseofblack and their amazing fest

Guess who has yet another fic quickly approaching the 5k mark also for that fest? Oh yes, it me. Too.

Blame the Black Sisters for it!

But please show up to AO3 in a few days because my insecure ass is going to need validation.

[shivunin]

I'm curious - what is Maria's relationship like with her family members? Out of the Kirkwall crew who is she closest with? Other than Fenris ofc 😊

Oooh thanks for asking! c: I am going to answer them in reverse order because the family section got long.

I think Maria spends the most down time with Isabela and Merrill. Of course they're the perfect duo in and of themselves, but I also think they best balance the traits she struggles with. When Maria gets too inside her own head/serious, Isabela pulls her back to the present. When she starts to feel like everything is hopeless, Merrill reminds her that there is wonder and beauty in the world, even if you've seen it a hundred times before (also Merrill is, like, really really smart and I like to think they spend a lot of time talking about the differences in magic technique between the Dalish and how Hawke does things, which is also not the way the Circle does things).

But beyond that, she really loves each of her friends in their own way---she and Varric will tell stories over each other, and he helps her take a step back and see things from another perspective. I don't know if she would have made it after Leandra died without Sebastian (who would understand better than him?), and Aveline refuses to be taken care of by Maria, which is something she needs. Their weird Thing aside, I think she likes debating with Anders (when he will still debate with her) and she deeply admires his compassion.

(And Fenris, of course, who she really tries---she does!---to stop seeing as anything but a friend, over and over, and she can never quite manage it. She loves his wry sense of humor and how blunt he can be, even before she loves him)

Once Carver is able to be on his own and develop his own personality/strengths/weaknesses, they get along well! The handful of times he visits after joining the Wardens are full of more good-natured ribbing than hidden barbs and they write to each other as often as they can. When she lets go of the idea that she has to take care of him, they can finally develop a friendlier relationship.

With Leandra---she makes a lot of little comments that seem to blame Hawke for Lothering/losing Bethany/their current status, and I think Maria just accepts them as the truth. It doesn't even occur to her to question this until well after Leandra dies. Of course she could have saved everyone if she was faster/stronger/paying better attention---personal failure is easier to accept than the fact that the world is just cruel sometimes. I like to imagine that they would have figured things out eventually (because they did love each other, so so much) but they never really got the chance.

Likewise, Maria blames Gamlen for all the family ills when they live together and comes to appreciate him more after she moves out. Once she realizes he isn't actually being malicious when he's being an ass, she's free to be snarky back and they're quite comfortable with that. They see each other at least once a month after Leandra dies, and they spend the whole time arguing, hug, and promise to do it again next month.

(I don't know if this is within the scope of the question, but she also eventually has four kids---though I've only spent time thinking about the eldest, Leander---and of course she loves them wholly)

[fumblingmusings]

Not me finally reading Lovely As You Are and thoroughly enjoying every romantic conversation and kiss and dream like tone and getting to the final chapter and thoroughly enjoying Alfred knocking Ivan the fuck out and being like vindication for Ludwig fuck yeah only to end the fic and be genuinely hollowed out like a melon scoop because

Hi, I'm Abbie and I never learned to fuckin read

It is well and truly my

moment.

Anyway, 10 out 10 fic to blast through at 11pm. Just... read the tags, yeah? It is quite heavy.

[foxgloveinspace]

Its my fanfic, and Sleep can look sorta like Chaos Hades Game if I want him too.

[spocksbedsidemanner]

.

[wanderingandfound]

Insomnia is a bitch. Why haven't I fallen asleep yet?

[viaisms]

twenty questions

summary: penelope accidentally mentions that someone has a crush on you, she can't say who it is but you make it into a game so she can :) warnings: spencer reid x bau!reader, gn reader, mentions of drinking wine, pg-13 language, talk of bugs?? its a nickname,,, lots of use of pet names lol, fluff, no mention of y/n yeehaw, pining, you're completely oblivious about how much spencer wants you, not proofread </3 authors note: first fic!! i haven't officially written a fic in. gosh, years?? since the pandemmy :( i really want to get back into writing, so have this little blurb that i thought of! by all means i am here for any constructive criticism you may have<3 wc: 2.7k

The clatter of fingertips tapping against a keyboard filled the dimly lit BAU office. You sit at your desk, eyes fixed on the glowing screen as you scroll through reports, cross-referencing case files and taking notes. The quiet hum of the building has long since settled into a lull; you barely realize how deeply you've fallen into your work,

The distant ticking of a clock finally breaks your trance, but it wasn't until you feel the hairs arise on the back of your neck that you become fully aware. You slowly blink with a quiet groan, glancing at the time at the bottom of your screen.

10:58 PM. Shit.

You align your fingertips atop of your keyboard, the soft clatter filling the office once more before you hear the all-too familiar voice.

"Babes, what are you still doing here?!"

You turn and see nobody else but Garcia, finally emitting from her bat-cave. Her arms cross against her chest, a disappointed hum coming from her pressed lips. "You, my love, should be at home in a nice hot bath with a glass of wine."

Your lips splay a lazy smirk as you lean back in your chair, stretching your body with a quiet groan. "I was just about to wrap up, Pen, I promise..." You assure your colleague, feeling the strain of staring at a screen all day every time that you blink.

"Good deal my beautiful bug," Penelope chirps as her arms drop to her side. She's just as tired as you are, having spent all of her day digging through databases to find information on a potential UnSub. Her heals click as she goes to turn away, walking back towards her office.

"You know, you have to get your beauty sleep for your lover boy in the mor..." Her once confident words grow timid as she begins to trail off.

Penelope's breath catches in her throat as she realizes the words that so effortlessly flew off her tongue, her blood running cold at her grave error. Spencer is going to kill her.

"My what?" Your eyes narrow, scoffing in a confused manner.

She stills, yet she doesn't turn to you.

"Nothing! I... I didn't say anything..." She mutters with a nervous stammer of your name, the rhythmic clicking of her heels continuing as she speeds to her office.

You stand, the wheels of your office chair sliding out from under you as you feel a weakness in both of your legs. You stretch once more, trying to think of when the last time you even stood was.

"Penelope Grace Garcia!"

Her hand is resting on the cold, slick material of the doorknob that has the potential to separate her from this deep abyss that she just dug herself into. Instead, she stills for another moment before turning to you once more.

Penelope has to think of a lie, and quick.

"Obviously... I was talking about Morgan!"

There is a reason why she does what she does for a living, and is rarely out on the field with the rest of the crew unless her technical skills are needed.

Your eyes squint with a tentative hum. You don't believe Garcia, not for a second.

"You do know I'm a profiler..." A grumble of amusement comes from your chest at Penelope's attempt.

"Right..." She murmurs, her voice quiet as she breaks your gaze. She's mentally kicking herself for blabbing, such a rookie mistake in the game of workplace gossip.

Your eyebrows raise as you await Garcia's confession. However, she stays strong, not uttering another peep from her velvet-painted lips.

"So...?" You sing after a beat of silence, stars of hope glistening in the pools of your eyes.

With a whine, Penelope's shoulders drop.

"Look... I love you, sweetness, I do..." Her lips droop into a frown. Penelope's eyes greet your own somberly with a shake of her own head. "But I promised I wouldn't tell..."

You feel a weight of disappointment on your chest, and with a sigh, you decide to drop it. Penelope sees the way the sparkle in your eye begins to dim, eliciting a whine from her barely audible to your own ears.

"But!" She chirps, trying to share some of her own light with you. Penelope shouldn't be doing this, and she knows it. However, she is far too nurturing to let a beautiful smile like yours falter for even a second. "If you guess it... it's not technically me telling you, right?"

"You know? I like the way your mind thinks," You hum, reveling in the fact that you got your way. "Twenty questions?" The cold sensation of the faux-leather hits you as you sit back in your chair.

The corner of Penelope's lips twitch upwards as a combination of guilt and excitement course through her veins. "You know I love a good game, hit me..." She murmurs, her voice self-assured as she pulls a chair from a nearby desk, her legs crossing as she sits next to you.

"Okay..." You mutter with a shaky sigh. The pounding of your heart fills your entire body, your stomach slightly cramping with nerves. "Is it someone I know?"

"Uh, duh?"

Your eyes flutter shut, raking through potential victims that fell for whatever love trap you didn't even intent on setting. "Male or female?"

"Acht! That's not part of the rules my curious friend and you know it," Her dark eyes narrow as she playfully scolds her colleague. "I'm totally counting it though, eighteen more questions..."

With pressed lips, you weigh out the obvious individuals who are least likely to be a contender. Penelope sees how deep you are in thought, and she can't help herself but quietly scoff.

How can you not know it's Spencer? She thinks to herself. Everyone around the office sees it -- everyone but you, apparently. As you think, her mind wanders to about two months prior, where Spencer came to her for love advice. Penelope, being herself, already knew he was fawning over you. She picked up on it the moment the genius somehow grew more awkward every time he were to speak to you.

However, also being herself, she refused to give him any sound advice until he spilled who the lucky contender was; which just so happened to be you.

The sound of your voice pulls her out of her own mind.

"Do I see them often?"

The corners of her lips prop upwards, almost tauntingly. "Very," she affirms.

Someone you see very often... you mentally walk through your day-to-day routine, retracing every step no matter how minuscule. You awake every morning to nobody in your apartment but your cat, besides the occasional sleepover with a friend every now and again. You ready yourself for work alone, your first stop in the morning being the local coffee shop down the street...

"Ooh! Is it someone from the coffee shop?" You chirp, your heart beginning to race at the idea of an unspoken stranger admiring your beauty from afar. Individuals you see there on a day-to-day basis flood your mind, although it completely falls empty for the exception of one person; a barista behind the counter, roughly your age who is not bad looking in the slightest.

"That would be a negative..." Her red-painted lips press together, a slight pang of disappointment hitting you in the gut that it wasn't the barista.

"Darn..." You tut, your mind trying to silently place the pieces of the puzzle together. Someone you know, someone you see often, not someone from the coffee shop...

Penelope can't believe how oblivious you are. How do you not pick up on the fact that Spencer follows you around the office like a lost puppy? Or the fact that when the two of you are on the field together, he insists you go with him or vice versa because he feels the need to protect you?

"No way that it's a colleague?" Your brows stitch together, your head slanting as you throw the inconceivable idea into the open.

Penelope's head slightly tilts downwards as she gazes at you through the top of her frames. She flashes you a sly, almost flirtatious grin at your not-so-far-fetched theory.

"And if it is?"

The feeling of your heart hammering in your heart is felt throughout your entire body, your cheeks warming as you feel blood rush to your brain.

"Who?!" You exclaim, completely forgoing the rules to the game. This narrows your options to about seven. Your hands fumble with the cotton on the hem of your shirt as you narrow your options down even further, a shuttering breath falling from your lips.

"How do you not know?!" Penelope is quick to match your energy, an actual pain shooting through her chest at your own naivety. Her brows raise as her eyes widen, her fists balling as she folds herself back from blurting it out.

Your lips part as you're about to exclaim something quick and witty back to your colleague when it hits you. Like a fish gulping for water, you feel the soft skin of your lips quickly snap shut.

The memories hit you all at once: the mornings you're in a rush and you forget your coffee - Reid excusing himself for a moment with a muttered excuse before returning with it minutes later, the nights you return home from a case and he offers to spend time with you because it pains you being alone after what you saw, the countless facts he will ramble to you on the plane because damn it, you're the only one that actually listens to him.

"Oh my god, Reid?" Your jaw drops as you gasp, your arms numbing as your nerves shoot past the roof and to the stratosphere.

With a relieved sigh, Penelope's palms slap against her thighs, planting her leg down onto the floor with her other one. "Finally!" She groans, almost feeling a sense of comfort that you know and the weird tension around the office while the two are around would soon come to an end.

"Since when?!" Your heart ticks against your chest so hard that you can hear it in your ears. Never in a million years would you assume it would be Spencer that would be silently pining over you. Reid?!

"Since like... forever, buttercup!" Penelope giggles. She can see the dots being connected in the pretty little brain of yours, and god, she loves it. Her voice softens, a warm, almost maternal intent behind them. "We really should be getting home..." She groans, her gaze flicking to the clock on the wall. "Since you two are totes madly in love already, let me know when one of you decides to make the move, okay?"

With a roll of your eyes, the back of your hand ever so gently strikes the side of Garcia's arm. She notices the way blush speckles across your face, a knowing grin playing against her own. You can't ignore the way your chest fuzzes over at the thought of Spencer feeling about you the way you feel about him, it makes your stomach ache with desire; you don't know if you love or hate the sensation.

"Goodnight, Garcia..." A mix between a chuckle and a sigh of contentment is emitted from you. She mumbles a quick 'good night' with a quick, playful wink before standing from her chair, returning it to its original home.

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

The next morning you're in a hurry to get to work, oversleeping by a long shot as it took you forever to wind down last night due to your wandering thoughts.

You get to your desk with merely minutes to spare, a tired, overwhelmed groan falling from your lips as you place your bag in your desk and splay your jacket against the back of your chair.

"Long night last night, agent?"

You don't even have to look up to know who it is... your body freezes for a moment, not sure if you're prepared to deal with this; not yet, anyways.

With a soft sigh, your gaze is lifted and immediately greeted with Spencer's. His large, curious and caring stare. His hazel eyes almost bare into your own, causing a tingle to run down your spine. You try to ignore the butterflies that patter within the walls of your stomach, yet they're hard to confine.

"Yeah... I'm fine, Reid," You nod, your lips tentatively pressing together. "Just didn't sleep worth the damn last night... just... thinking about the case..." You trail, the sound of your voice growing softer and quieter like a beautiful decrescendo.

His lips part for just a moment, an inaudible 'ah' coming from him before giving you an understanding nod.

"I figured... Garcia told me you were here late last night and I kind of... presumed this may happen," He muses with an awkward chuckle. "Which is why... I brought you this..."

Reid's tall frame trails away from your desk for a moment, which draws out a soft hum from you as you tap your fingertips against the smooth, cool material of your desk.

His long stride is quick to return, your heart almost leaping out of your throat as he sees what's within his long, slender fingers.

Your favorite coffee.

You accept the gesture, your stomach doing flips as you take the cup within the confines of your own grasp. You mumble something quick and playful, telling Spencer that he is your favorite person in the world right now for such a small action.

The feeling of someone else watching you is burned into the back of your skull, a sensation churning in your gut that you can't shake. Your gaze flicks over to the side, in which you're immediately greeted by Garcia.

She not-so-subtly flashes two thumbs up at you, her nails painted a shade of dark purple. "Go get 'em!" She mouths in approval, your gaze quickly turning over to the male in front of you in attempt to hide Penelope's matchmaking attempt.

"Hey... do you um... maybe want to get coffee at this place together sometime?" You attempt to thickly swallow down your nerves, trying to soothe the heartbeat creeping out of your chest.

Spencer is silent a moment, his lips twitching upwards in a sign of approval at your suggestion. You see the thoughts shifting through his mind, the rates of his blinks increasing in a sense of disbelief that you're actually asking him this.

"I-- um... yeah! Let's do tomorrow before work? If... you're okay getting up that early, if not we can totally do a different time, perhaps--"

"Tomorrow it is..." You cut him off, something you rarely do. He nods in agreement, a quiet 'tomorrow' mumbled from his lips as he attempts to conceal his excitement.

You’re not sure how to shake off the butterflies in your stomach, but Spencer’s shy smile is enough to make you feel warm all over. You take a sip of your coffee, letting the moment linger. Before you can say anything else, Garcia’s voice breaks through your thoughts, louder than life.

"You two better not cancel on me! I want details!" she teases from across the room, flashing a mischievous grin your way. You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the chuckle that escapes your lips.

Spencer, now fully aware of the matchmaker’s antics, lets out a soft laugh, running a hand through his hair, looking even more flustered than before.

You meet his gaze again, a new kind of tension settling between you—a mix of nerves, excitement, and something deeper that you’re not ready to name just yet. You take a breath, feeling that the next chapter of whatever this is has already started, and it’s thrilling.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you murmur, unable to stop the grin that’s threatening to split your face. Spencer nods, his smile small but genuine, as he turns to head to his desk.

As he walks away, you catch a glimpse of Garcia again, this time with an exaggerated wink. You shake your head, but you can’t suppress the warmth blooming in your chest. Tomorrow’s going to be interesting, to say the least.

And maybe... just maybe, things are finally falling into place.