#a million days later and I finally finished the chapter

[jhyoos]

REBEL GIRL

Chapter 4: Ugh! As If!

rockstar!sevika x influencer!reader

summary: reader has to suffer the consequences of her actions.

mentions: modern au, fame au, drama, swearing, mommy caitlyn, groping, kissing, neck biting and kissing, drunk truth or dare.

notes : drafts somehow deleted…and I didn’t back it up so im writing off of hopes and dreams. love yall 🫵❤️🎸

chapters : one, two, three, four, five, six

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room as you made your way to the bathroom for a much-needed shower. The hot water cascaded down your body, soothing the lingering tension from the previous night’s chaos. You hummed softly to yourself, allowing the steam and the scent of your vanilla body wash to envelop you.

As you rinsed off, faint noises from the room outside caught your attention. You figured it was Caitlyn moving around, likely getting ready for her own day. Brushing it off, you continued to enjoy the quiet moment of solitude.

After about half an hour, you stepped out of the bathroom feeling refreshed, your skin soft and glistening from the lotion you’d applied. A fluffy towel was wrapped securely around you as you walked back into the room, ready to pick out an outfit for the day.

Your peace was short-lived when you noticed someone sitting on your side of the bed. It wasn’t Caitlyn.

“Oh…it’s you,” you said flatly, your tone dripping with irritation as you recognized Sevika lounging on the mattress like she owned it.

She smirked, leaning back slightly, her arms crossed as she watched you. “Good morning to you, too.”

Ignoring her, you made your way to the closet, pulling out your luggage to sift through your clothes. You crouched carefully, mindful of the towel wrapped around you. You knew Sevika was probably watching, and you weren’t about to give her any kind of show.

When you finally found something to wear, you stood up and placed the outfit on the bed. Turning, you noticed Sevika’s eyes still fixed on you, her gaze unrelenting.

“What the fuck do you want?” you snapped, annoyance clear in your voice.

Sevika let out a dramatic sigh, shifting to make herself more comfortable on your side of the bed. “An apology,” she said simply, her tone laced with mock seriousness. “My phone’s been blowing up all morning because of you. Maybe a little…gesture of goodwill would help. Head sounds like a great place to start.”

You glared at her, utterly unamused. “Ugh, as if!” you shot back. “And honestly, you should be happy you’re getting so much recognition. Free publicity.”

Sevika raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.

Rolling your eyes, you huffed. “Fine. How about this? I’ll buy you food as an apology, and I’ll take care of debunking everything. Happy now?”

She regarded you with a skeptical expression, her eyebrow arching even higher. “Food? It better be something expensive. I’m sure a girl with a four-million-dollar net worth can figure that out.”

You froze, staring at her in disbelief. “Oh my gosh! You stalker…what the fuck? You’ve been looking me up?”

Sevika smirked, standing and stretching as she made her way toward the door. “Yeah. And your dating history, too. You’ve got pretty good taste. Might text one of them later.”

Your jaw dropped. “You—!”

Before you could finish, she opened the door and stepped out, narrowly dodging the pillow you hurled at her.

Her laughter echoed in the hallway as you stood there fuming, shaking your head. “Unbelievable,” you muttered under your breath, already regretting offering to buy her anything.

But as much as she got under your skin, you couldn’t ignore the faint smile tugging at the corner of your lips. Something about Sevika’s audacity was maddeningly entertaining, even if you’d never admit it.

After pulling on your outfit and styling your hair into something effortlessly simple, you grabbed your phone and sat down on the edge of the bed. The articles and posts about you and Sevika were still fresh in your mind, and you knew your manager was probably seconds away from blowing a gasket if you didn’t address the rumors.

You needed a tweet that was professional enough to appease your manager but also blunt enough to shut everyone else up. It took you a moment to think before your fingers began typing.

“Me and Sevika are just friends. If I’m in a relationship, I would’ve already confirmed it by now. Get off my dick and leave my friends alone.”

You reread it once, nodded in approval, and hit “Post.” Within seconds, the tweet was blowing up. Likes, retweets, and comments flooded in, most of them praising your straightforwardness.

(y/n)smaingf: This is why I love her LMAO

viseye: Ugh…I was in the middle of fanart about y’all

sevileftnut: Ya know what…Hell yeah!

You decided not to scroll too much further—no point in diving into the cesspool of opinions. Tossing your phone onto the bed, you grabbed your bag and headed for the door, ready to start the day.

When you got downstairs, the group was already waiting for you in the lobby. Caitlyn leaned against a pillar, her arms crossed, while the others stood or sat around, all wearing smug expressions that immediately annoyed you.

You raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Vi smirked. “We saw the tweet.”

“And?” you asked, exasperated.

“You’re treating us to free food, obviously,” Sevika chimed in, crossing her arms as she leaned casually against the wall. Her smirk was just as infuriating as the rest of them.

You rolled your eyes. “Fine. Free food for everyone. Happy now?”

A cheer went up from the group as you pinched the bridge of your nose, already regretting your generosity. “Can someone at least order the Uber, please?”

Jinx raised a hand. “I guess I’ll do it.” She pulled out her phone and started tapping away.

Caitlyn nudged your shoulder. “You’ve got a way with words,” she said with a small smile.

You shrugged. “Someone had to say it.”

As you waited for the Uber, you dug into your bag and pulled out your mini vlog camera, the familiar weight of it a comforting tool for killing time. “While we wait, let’s make some content, please?” you said, flashing a quick smile as you powered it on. The red recording light blinked on as you turned the lens toward the group, framing yourself and everyone else in the background.

Fixing your hair in the little camera screen, you caught Sevika rolling her eyes in the reflection. “Aye, I can see you, Sev,” you said, turning your head to glare at her playfully.

Sevika leaned back against the wall with her arms crossed, her expression unimpressed. “Hurry up already, princess. The Uber’s gonna be here any minute.”

You ignored her impatient tone with a dramatic sigh, pressing the record button. “Hey, you guys!” you said in your most cheerful voice, pointing the camera at yourself. “Guess what? We’re heading to Five Guys, and I’m paying. This is my charity for the day—I’m feeding starving artists.” You smiled mischievously at the camera before panning it to the band behind you.

The group groaned collectively at your teasing. Jinx leaned into the shot with a smirk. “You do know it’s 1 v 4, right? You’re outnumbered.”

Without missing a beat, you fired back, “Oh, please. I can take you all at once.”

The air froze for a second before Vi raised an eyebrow and burst out laughing. “Woah, that sounded wrong.”

“Oh my god, you freak!” you shouted, clutching your chest dramatically as if offended. The others joined in with their laughter, the sound of it filling the parking lot and making the moment feel more alive.

“Cut the camera, Y/N,” Caitlyn teased, nudging you gently. “Before this vlog turns into a comedy special.”

You shrugged. “Hey, this is pure gold. The fans will love it.”

Sevika, still leaning against the wall, muttered, “Yeah, great. Let them see you lose your mind before dinner.”

“Sev, the only thing I’m losing is patience with your attitude,” you quipped, spinning the camera toward her. She glared at you half-heartedly, but you caught the faintest twitch of amusement in her lips.

Just as you were about to retort, the Uber pulled up to the curb. “Saved by the ride,” Vi joked, pointing to the black SUV.

You turned off the camera, tucking it back into your bag. “Alright, let’s go, starving artists. The food awaits.”

Sevika brushed past you as the group piled into the car, her hand grazing your lower back in a way that felt both accidental and deliberate. “After you, princess,” she said, her voice dripping with mock politeness.

You rolled your eyes, climbing into the back seat. “One of these days, Sev, you’re gonna wish you were nicer to me.”

“Doubt it,” she shot back, settling into her seat. The banter continued as the car pulled into traffic, and you couldn’t help but smirk, already anticipating how the night would unfold.

The ride back from Five Guys was anything but quiet. The car was filled with laughter, teasing, and the occasional groan of someone who had eaten too much. Vi leaned back in her seat, hands on her stomach, a satisfied grin on her face. “Alright,” she announced, “I think I’ve had enough carbs to fuel me for the entire night. I’m officially ready to party.”

Jinx, sitting beside her, raised her hand like she was in class. “I second that! We’re hitting the club tonight, and I’m not holding back.” She leaned forward, grinning at everyone else.

You, however, were still half-reclined in your seat, your head resting against the window as you groaned. “Y’all really have that much energy after all that food? I need at least two naps before even considering going out again.”

As the car pulled up to the hotel, Caitlyn suddenly turned to you, her voice firm. “Not so fast, (Y/N). You’re not going anywhere tonight.” You froze, blinking at her in confusion.

“What? Why?”

Caitlyn crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow. “Because last night was a disaster waiting to happen, and I’m not about to have you causing chaos again.”

The group laughed, but Caitlyn’s expression remained serious, leaving you groaning in protest as everyone else headed up to get ready.

Minutes later, you found yourself sprawled across the bed in your shared room, flipping through channels with one hand and scrolling your phone with the other. The TV droned on about some crime show you weren’t really paying attention to, but it was better than sitting in silence. You huffed in frustration, tossing your phone aside, just as the door creaked open.

“I thought I was locked in,” you said dryly, not bothering to glance up. You assumed it was Caitlyn coming to check on you.

“Guess I’ve got the key,” came a familiar, low drawl.

Your head snapped up to see Sevika leaning casually against the doorframe, her arms crossed, a small smirk tugging at her lips. She was dressed down compared to her usual style, wearing a loose black shirt and jeans. The relaxed look somehow made her even more infuriating.

“What do you want?” you muttered, sulking deeper into the bed.

She shrugged and strolled in, letting the door click shut behind her. “I’m putting myself in time-out too,” she said nonchalantly. “No one’s allowed to have fun without me.” She plopped into the chair near the bed, slouching back as if she owned the place.

You stared at her for a moment, debating whether you wanted company. But as the TV continued to drone on, you sighed, realizing it beat being bored alone. “Fine. If you’re staying, we’re making this interesting.”

Her eyebrow quirked as she watched you sit up, reaching for your suitcase. From its depths, you pulled out a bottle of whiskey, your secret stash for nights like these. You placed it on the nightstand with a sense of finality, grabbing two glasses.

Sevika’s smirk deepened as she leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “Drinking truth or dare?” she asked, her voice tinged with amusement.

“Exactly,” you said, pouring the amber liquid into both glasses before sliding one her way. “Unless you’re scared to play.”

“Scared?” She scoffed, picking up her glass. “You don’t know me at all, princess.”

The game began innocently enough. Sevika dared you to do a horrible celebrity impression, which resulted in a laugh so loud it made her throw her head back. In retaliation, you dared her to sing a verse from a Taylor Swift, and the sound of her gruff voice struggling through the high notes of Lover left you in tears from laughter.

“Alright, truth,” she said after finishing her whiskey, her cheeks faintly flushed.

You grinned mischievously. “What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done on stage?”

Sevika groaned, her hand rubbing the back of her neck. “I ripped my pants. Front and back. In front of a packed crowd.”

You burst into laughter, nearly spilling your drink. “No way!”

“Swear on it. And I had to play the rest of the set like that,” she admitted, her voice tinged with both embarrassment and pride.

“Legendary,” you said, raising your glass to her.

When it was your turn, Sevika leaned forward, her smirk widening. “Dare,” you said confidently.

“I dare you to prank call your manager,” she said, pulling her phone from her pocket and sliding it over to you.

You grinned as you dialed her number, lowering your voice to imitate a stiff, formal tone. “Hello, this is Officer Jenkins with the local police department. We’ve received a complaint about you being a raging bitch. We got a warrant for your arrest.”

The sound of Lauren’s confused, half-asleep voice on the other end made Sevika snort with laughter. “(Y/N)…I’m not about to play wit—”

By the time you hung up, both of you were doubled over, Sevika clutching her sides.

As the dares and truths became bolder, the atmosphere started to shift. You dared Sevika to share her type, and her answer—“someone bold, someone who doesn’t back down”—came with a pointed look that left your cheeks warm.

“I’m not gonna lie…sounds like you’re describing yourself,” you teased, earning a low chuckle from her.

“Maybe I am,” she admitted, her gaze steady, almost daring you to break eye contact.

When your turn came, you chose dare, feeling emboldened by the whiskey warming your veins.

Sevika leaned forward, a lazy smirk spreading across her lips. “I dare you to sit on my lap.”

Your breath hitched, your cheeks heating, but you weren’t about to back down. “Fine,” you said, standing and walking toward her with as much confidence as you could muster.

Lowering yourself onto her lap, you felt her hands rest lightly on your waist. Her touch was casual, yet it sent a shiver up your spine.

“Comfortable?” she asked, her voice low, her breath warm against your ear.

You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the way your heart raced. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” she replied, her eyes never leaving yours.

You leaned in closer, your faces inches apart, your lips hovering just shy of hers. “I dare you to kiss me.”

Sevika didn’t hesitate. Her hands tightened on your waist as she closed the gap between you, her lips capturing yours in a kiss that was anything but hesitant. Her movements were deliberate, her lips soft but insistent, making your pulse race.

The kiss deepened, her tongue brushing against yours with a confidence that left you breathless. Her hands slid under your shirt, her fingertips grazing your bare skin, sending a thrill through you.

Your fingers tangled in her hair, tugging lightly as her lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw and then to your neck, leaving a heated path of kisses that made you arch into her. She gave you one last kiss on your collarbone before finding your lips again.

Her mechanical hand slid lower, gripping your ass firmly as she shifted you on her lap, pulling you even more against her. The other hand, far from idle, slid under your shirt. Her fingers, rough yet somehow gentle, brushed over your bare skin, grazing your ribcage, going under your bra before boldly cupping your breast. Her thumb flicked over your nipple, sending a jolt of heat straight through your body.

You gasped against her mouth, your hands tangling more in her hair as the kiss deepened. Her tongue swept into your mouth, teasing and dominating in equal measure, leaving you completely breathless. You arched into her touch, your body responding to her as if it had been waiting for this moment. She pulled away and found your neck again, this time leaving love bites.

“Sevika,” you moaned breathlessly, barely managing her name as her teeth grazed your skin.

“Shh,” she murmured against your neck, her lips returning to yours in a kiss that made you forget everything—until the door swung open with a loud creak.

“Are you fucking serious?”

Caitlyn’s voice was sharp, cutting through the haze like a bucket of cold water.

You scrambled off Sevika’s lap, your shirt hastily tugged back into place as you turned to see Caitlyn standing in the doorway, her arms crossed and her expression a mix of disbelief and exasperation. You were immediately sobered up.

Sevika, by contrast, remained unbothered, lounging back in her chair with her usual smirk firmly intact. “We were bonding,” she said lazily, her tone dripping with amusement.

Caitlyn raised an eyebrow, setting her bag on the table. “If this is bonding, I’d hate to see what happens when you two don’t get along.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “This is all your fault,” you muttered toward Sevika.

Sevika chuckled, leaning closer to you, her voice low and teasing. “Didn’t hear you complaining.”

You shot her a glare, though the small smile tugging at your lips betrayed your annoyance. Caitlyn shook her head, muttering something about “never getting a break” as she climbed into her bed.

You grabbed Sevika by her arm, pulling her out of the chair and pushed her towards the door. “It’s time for you to go, Sev,” you said.

“Awe, but we were having so much fun,” she teased turning towards you, getting closer along with her face.

You immediately stopped her, putting a hand on your chest. “To be continued…maybe,” you said as you opened the door, gesturing for her to leave.

“I’ll take your word on that,” she added in quickly before leaving.

You climbed into bed beside Caitlyn, still feeling the heat of embarrassment from earlier. As you pulled the covers over yourself, you glanced at her. “Are you mad at me?” you asked softly.

Caitlyn let out a long groan, turning her head to look at you. “No. I mean… at least you’re standing by what you said last night.”

Her words made your stomach drop. “Oh, shit,” you muttered, sitting up slightly. “I talked about her while I was drunk? What did I even say?”

Caitlyn rolled her eyes, though a small smirk tugged at her lips. “Something about her being annoyingly hot and how you wanted to fuck her so bad. Seems like you were in the process of it.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands, but Caitlyn wasn’t done. Her eyes zeroed in on your neck, and her smirk widened. “Speaking of… how long were you two going at it? You’ve got two huge hickeys on your neck.”

Your eyes snapped open, and you sat up abruptly. “What?!” You scrambled for your phone, turning on the front camera to inspect the damage.

Sure enough, there they were—two dark, unmistakable marks standing out against your skin. “Jesus,” you muttered in disbelief, your fingers brushing over the spots as if that would make them disappear.

Caitlyn chuckled, leaning back against the headboard. “You’re lucky I’m too tired to lecture you about keeping things professional. But just so you know, I’m giving you side-eye for the rest of the trip.”

You flopped back onto your pillow, staring at the ceiling. “This can’t get any worse,” you muttered.

Caitlyn shot you a look. “Don’t jinx it.”

taglist : @whatlefoop @nonexistentsourcherry @graciebloom @swordfemm4 @m00npjm @sevikasleftarm @fayecreates @mulan-but-gay @inlovewithsevikaandambessa @sapphiellar @artfairyyyyy

[caprisun89bakerstreet]

How can I be guilty as sin?

Ch.1 - What if he’s written mine on my upper thigh only in my mind?

୨⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯. ༊*·˚‧ੈ₊˚ ೃ࿐ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯୧

Series summary: the 5 times you almost told Obi-Wan about your feelings for him and the 1 time it slipped out

୨⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯. ༊*·˚‧ੈ₊˚ ೃ࿐ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯୧

“You never kiss anyone.”

“You’ve never seen me kiss anyone.” He corrects you and you want to crash his speeder for saying that.

୨⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯. ༊*·˚‧ੈ₊˚ ೃ࿐ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯୧

Pairing: obi-wan kenobi x jedi f!reader

Wordcount: 5.0k (got out of hand oops)

Chapter summary: the council got a tip that Cad Bane will be at a bar on Coruscant tonight. You and Obi-wan are send to capture him but a few drinks in your feelings for him are distracting as you start to get jealous

Tags/trigger warnings: alcohol, being pulled closer by stranger but is quickly resolved, reader gets jealous, protective obi-wan, forbidden love, yearning

Notes: this is not exactly finished but i’m too lazy to go through this and edit it again. And i spend too much time searching up in-canon alcoholic beverages—the things one does for writing a fic. Nowhere near perfect but anyways enjoy~

You were sitting in the Archives, looking through all the information available about a certain bounty hunter. One you disliked. A lot. Because you’ve already met him one or twice, and Cad Bane wasn’t the type you were ecstatic about to meet again. The Jedi Council got a tip from their contacts that Cad Bane, someone they’ve been trying to capture for months now, would be at a bar here on Coruscant tonight. The Durasteel Den. And you were assigned to capture him. Spitting through his information you don’t learn much else to your credit. He’s a bounty hunter. What did surprise you however is that he had recently kidnapped children. But there weren’t any clues as to why. The thought made your stumach twist. But there was someone else coming with you on this mission.

“Did you find anything?” You suddenly hear a familiar voice and turn to Obi-Wan standing behind you. If you could’ve bottled the sound of the warmth in it, his accent and the way it spread tingles through you, you would’ve gotten drunk on it every night. It would be stronger than the finest corellian whiskey that’s for sure.

“He’s bad with children.” You wildly understated as you look back at the screen with a frown. “But not much we don’t know already. I doubt we’ll need to know about his ‘babysitting skills’ if we’re leaving tonight.” You said, and felt Obi-Wan lean over your shoulder to look at the screen. Blast, why did you always feel as if there was an overwhelming force trying to escape the carefully locked insides of your heart whenever he’s near? You try to not turn your head to the side. Though part of you wanted to, just because he’s so close and maybe if you were living in a different time you could feel his lips brush over—-

“Ah. He enjoys making things difficult.”

“And he doesn’t know when to quit apparantly”

The chuckle that came from Obi-Wan then was the light of your darkest days. He moves away from you and places a hand on your shoulder as he looks down to you.

“I have to attend a meeting in a few minutes. But I’ll meet you at the landing platform tonight.”

“Right, see you later. And good luck.” You add casually and Obi-Wan gives you a look.

“You’re unbelievable.” He tells you with an amused smirk and walks away. And you can’t stop the grin that’s spreading on your face.

It was finally getting dark outside. The Coruscant skyline was illuminated by all the speeder lights for the famous nightlife the city has to offer. Sometimes you wonder how there even was a Jedi Temple on the planet being covered by infrastructure of a giant city. The only living Force being that of the millions of beings rummaging through the streets. From high class dealers, senators and officials to the lowest class scum, villainy and those living of scraps. The unfairness of this Galaxy always made you feel a very strong sense of injustice. Grabbing your lightsaber from your desk, and clipping it to your belt, you make your way to the landing platform. You already see Obi-Wan waiting for you. He greets you with a smile.

“Look who finally decided to show up.” He teases, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

“Hey I’m arriving at a perfectly reasonable time! But I also know how much you love to see me coming.” You tease back defensively and pat his arm gently as you walk past him to the speeder. You can’t see his grin as he shakes his head and follows you.

On your way to the Durasteel Den, you can’t get rid of the bad feeling in your stomach. Or maybe it was just because you were flying down the lower levels of Coruscant.

“Obi, Bane is smart, how do we know he’ll actually be there?” you ask then and glance at him.

Obi-Wan stays silent for a moment thinking about your words as he flies through the city. His brow furrow just slightly the way it always did when he was deep in thought.

“He’s smart, yes. But everyone let’s something slip sometimes. We can’t always be flawless.” He responds.

You give him a look. Because you were all too aware of Obi-Wan’s perfectionistic tendencies and how he beats himself up over every tiny single mistake.

“You know, that’s very ironic coming from you.” You tease him and can see the corner of his lips turn up. He glances at you.

“Oh so you think I am flawless?” He couldn’t help but tease back.

“No that’s not—“ you start but then shake your head and look away. “You know what i meant you kriffing nerfherder.”

He chuckles softly at your words and contiues to fly to the Durasteel Den. “Ofcours.” He awnsers then.

You try to ignore the fact you feel a little flustered. But you’re able to hide it. Like many feelings over the years. Because you weren’t supposed to feel like this as a Jedi. But maybe you did think he was flawless, was it that bad? You couldn’t help yourself and glanced at him again. With a look you only reserved for him, unknowingly. Though Anakin told you about it once. He could see the way you glanced at his former master whenever you thought he wasn’t looking.

Obi-Wan’s own faint blush was hidden by the darkness of the night- or rather covered by the different colored lights of the speeder-traffic.

Obi-Wan parked the speeder a block or two away as you continued to walk to the bar. Both of you putting the hoods of your robes up, you may not have been actually famous but you were both known around those who weren’t fond of Jedi. And unforutnately for you, that was almost a custom in the lower levels.

“Stay sharp, we don’t know if Bane has arrived yet but if he is, we can’t let him escape again.” Obi-Wan tells you as you approach the entrance.

“Hey, you know me, I’m observant.” You say smiling as you push through the door.

“Very.” He mumbles sarcastically rolling his eyes. You were observant, yes, but he also knew how easily distracted you’d get. But he wouldn’t admit to himself that the real reason he was sarcastic was because you somehow hadn’t noticed how his feelings for you were different from any other Jedi. Or friend. Or anyone for that matter. He forced the thought away as he walked in after you and saw you sit down at the bar. You had both agreed to split up, but to remain in sight. Since Bane would definetly recognize the both of you. He sat down a few chairs away from you as he glanced around the place. No sign of Bane. Yet. But there were many beings already. From all kinds of places in the galaxy, he presumed. Not knowing how long this night will be, Obi-Wan decided to order a drink.

You keep your hood over your head. You hated bars. They were crowded, loud and smelled awful. And too many different types of people were here, often with bad intentions. And the zabrak next to you was very clearly drunk as he swayed in his seat a little mumbling to himself. You couldn’t quite make out his words. But you also hadn’t noticed Cad Bane yet. He should be easy to spot if he was here. That damn blue alien, you think to yourself. You glance at Obi a few seats away from yours. The bar was curved which made it easy to glance to your right without obviously eyeing someone. But you shake your head when you watch a bartender give Obi-Wan a drink. Really? Already? Ofcours he would order himself a drink when we’ve been here for a minute. It wasn’t like he was alcoholic or anything, but the man did enjoy a drink every now and then. In your opinion, his choices of beverages were awful. He always enjoyed the strong stuff, like Avedame for example, though you shouldn’t be that surprised about that. The man drank black caff as if that’s how it’s supposed to be served. It worried you sometimes. Was it because of everything he’s gone through? Or was it just his terrible taste? Maybe both. You didn’t know. After a few minutes though you do order yourself a drink, Alderaanian ale. Mainly because it would’ve attracted too much attention if you didn’t. But you weren’t that opposed to one anyway.

After a while there was still no sign of Bane. And you grew incredibly bored. So bored you had ordered 3 drinks already, one of the 3 being Cortyg Brandy. After the first sip you decided you hated the taste of it and sticked to the Alderaanian stuff instead.

The bar had gotten more crowded, and you started to feel slightly hot after your second drink, so you pulled your hood down. You had noticed some dirty looks towards you, but managed to ignore them, you weren’t interested. Not that that mattered- you were on a mission. You did however have to tell some sleemo to piss off when he sat down next to you and placed a hand on your arm, and luckily he seemed drunk enough to oblige. Turning the glass on the counter of the bar trying to pass time, you glanced at Obi-Wan again. You weren’t sure how much drinks Obi-Wan had ordered. It was more than two. But you had lost count. Not that you were paying attention to him though, you had just noticed the bartender giving him his drinks. Is what you told yourself. No other reason. Though your glances became more frequent from the moment he had removed his own hood earlier. He was one of the nicer things to look at in this bar after all, you think as you take another sip of your drink and gaze at him. That moment you notice Obi-Wan looking directly at you. And you cringe at the thought of him knowing what you just thought of and look down at your practically empty drink. You’re a Jedi you can’t think about Obi-Wan like that. You know that. And have known that for a long time. Over the years your feelings for Obi-Wan hadn’t disappeared like you hoped they would. No. They only became stronger, more intens. Sometimes you wonder how you managed to even get knighted at all.

There was still no sign of that blast bounty hunter. Obi-Wan was starting to wonder if the information was even real as he tried to reach out to the Force and try to locate his presence. He didn’t. He did however, among all these different beings, with agendas he didn’t even want to know about, feel you. Your warmth. Your light and uplifting Force signature. Though it was a little off because of the drinks you’d had. Less obvious, but still impactful. Your tolerance was quite high, he knew that. But not as high as his. He supposed he’d build himself quite a tolerance for it over the years. Obi-Wan had spoken a few words with others, who looked approachable enough. But mainly open enough to give any information about Cad Bane if they had it. But he had no luck yet. And neither did you, he thinks as he watches you fumble with your 4th drink. He noticed you glancing his way quite a few times, but he didn’t think much of it. You were probably just bored and wanted to argue with him about something. He debated on just walking over to you, but decided against it when he had seen numerous shady beings walking around. They couldn’t risk exposing their cover. It would be too risky. So he ordered himself another Avedame.

After a while you almost wanted to just walk out and go home. It was no use, Bane was nowhere and he was never gonna show up anyway. But when you glanced at Obi-Wan again you noticed something. And it made your stumach twist in a way you hadn’t thought it could. There was a twilek woman suddenly sitting next to Obi-Wan. He didn’t seem too bothered by it. Obiwan was always the polite type, and rather good with words. Too good. And he was smart. And he always had those too witty comebacks of his that would drive you crazy. But the twilek was talking to him with a smile that screamed ‘I know you want me’. It makes your insides twist as you tighten your fingers around your drink. Obi-Wan smiled at her as they spoke. Though you told yourself he only smile because he was polite. But then the twilek’s hand was resting on his leg, as she moves closer to him too casually. She looks from his eyes to his lips and you quickly realize you want to vomit. So you glance back to Obi-Wan. And when you thought this couldn’t get any worse you see him lean in as he says something in her ear. You want to look away because you can’t physically sit here and watch Obi-Wan flirting with this twilek. It made you feel sick. But you couldn’t tear your eyes off of them as if afraid you’d miss something if you did. And you would have. You would’ve missed the way the girl wrapped her arms around his neck and oh so casually leaned into him when he placed his hand on her back. You weren’t the jealous type. You were never jealous. But oh how you could feel the Force around you start to change into enviousness. Grabbing your drink you finish it in one go. Why is Obi-Wan smiling at her? And why didn’t he hold you like that? Why was he so easily entranced by this twilek he didn’t even know, he’s never seen before, when you’ve been right there next to him for years? You thought that he cared about you, you know he did, you just thought that maybe he’d feel just a little more for you than this. You don’t even bother trying to hide your feelings in the force. You doubt he’d notice anyway since he’s so distracted by the woman. And before you knew it, her hands moved to hold his face and she pressed her lips against his. And you watch as Obi-Wan moves his hand to cradle her face as he kisses her back. Obi-Wan is kissing her. Obi-Wan is kissing someone that isn’t you. Disgust paints your features and you’re sure you’re about to be sick. And they’re not stopping. And besides disgust, jealousy and an enormous amount of envy, you feel something else. Your heart sinks to your stumach as you clench your jaw. Because you wish he’d kiss you like that… After a moment you stop the bartender and ask for an Avedame. Because you didn’t care about the taste right now, if anything it would be a good distraction. Obi-Wan had seemed to have found one…

After a minute or two you can’t take it anymore. They’ve been making out for two minutes at least and you’ve been forced to sit here and watch as Obi-Wan kisses someone he doesn’t even know when you’ve been dreaming of him kissing you for years. You hate him for it. Sometimes you hate being a Jedi. But you knew that if you weren’t, you never would’ve been brave to tell him anyway.. you finish your fifth drink of the night and it was one too many. Avedame really tasted awful. And you regret drinking it so quickly. But you notice the two nerfherder’s are finally done making out. The twilek caresses his face for a moment and you clench your jaw again. You watch as Obi-Wan says something to her and she pulls back and walks away. Obi-Wan turns back to the bar and looks at his drink before glancing at you. The force surrounding you feels like a haze of mixed feelings. Jealously, resentment, anger, hurt, remorse, insecurity, guilt all mixed up like a bottle of Corellian whiskey. You try not to drown in it. And it takes a moment for you to look away from him. Obi-Wan noticed. And for a few moments you look around the bar again, trying to get rid of your conflicted feelings. Until your eyes return to Obi’s seat. Which is empty. Why is it empty—where did he go? Oh. He must’ve followed that twilek somewhere else so they can—

“You seem distracted..” you hear a familiar voice beside you disrupt your thoughts and see obiwan sitting down next to you. You look down at your drink feeling a pit in your stomach.

“I’m not.” You say unable to hide the resentment in your voice. “You seem to be though.” You add bitterly.

He says silent for a moment, watching you swirl around your drink. “It’s that Avedame?” He asks then, slightly surprised.

“Possibly.” You mumble as you finish the last bit in one go. And cant help but wince. “I still don’t know why you like this—“ you start as you lean against the bar and look at the empty glass.

“Well i never-“

“Not that i have any idea of what you do like.” You hear yourself say before he could finish, your words slumbering together slightly because of the alcohol in your system.

But Obi-Wan is taken aback slightly. You were upset. He knew that. But why? Was this about the twilek girl he just kissed? Why would that interest you? He stays silent for a moment trying to pick a right way to respond because he suddenly felt bad. He decides that the truth would probably be best.

“You know me better than anyone.” You hear him say after a moment. He stated it rather simply. But you scoff and rueful smile crossed your lips. “I thought that too.”

Because you thought he’d never willingly kiss someone. You were foolish enough to hope that he’d one day kiss you of all people. But you always had wild fantasies. And apparently— unfortunatly this was one of them. The realization made you feel awfully heavy, even though you’ve known that dreaming of Obi-Wan being in love with you was foolish. He was the most devoted Jedi you’ve ever met. It couldn’t happen. But emotions were a fragile thing and hard to control.

Obi-Wan felt his stumach sink when he saw that rueful smile on your face. He’d upset you. He wasn’t sure why or how but he hated it. And he wished he could just turn you around to make you look at him, hold your face in his hands and let his thumbs trace every feature of yours. The thought made him realize he wanted to kiss you. Desperatly. Like so many times before. He needed to show you how he felt- but it goes against everything he believes in. And yet it was there. That feeling was always there somewhere, hidden away in his heart. A door which could only be opened by you. It was as if you’d stolen the key from him on one of those days where you were running away from him as a padawan because you’d stolen his lightsaber. Along with the key to his heart. And he hasn’t gotten rid of the yearning to know what it’d be like to remove the lock forever. He only felt more and more conflicted every time you’d greet him in the morning with that beautiful smile of yours, your uplifting presence and those eyes which would sweep him off his feet and he could drown him if he wasn’t being careful. Stars— he must’ve been a little more affected by his earlier drinks than he thought. Or simply by you.

“We should probably go—“ he said placing a hand gently on your upper arm because he couldn’t help himself.

“Can’t- have to wait for Bane.“ You say your head feeling slightly fuzzy as you move from your chair and start walking away. Away from Obi-Wan because you were too upset. You thought he would’ve chosen you. Like you would choose him if he asked.

“Hey wait—“ he said when you started walking- or rather stumbling away through the bar and he reached for your wrist.

“Let go Obi— Wan-“ your words slurred and you were getting annoyed as you look back at him.

“Listen we have to talk.” He said placing his hand on your arm again.

“Don’t wanna- talk.” You mumble as you turn around and away from him because the last person you wanted to talk to right now was Obi-Wan.

You hear him sigh as you move through a group of people. And faintly heard him call your name multiple times. You just needed to find Cad Bane and then you’d be able to go home. And sleep. And get rid of this headache you were suddenly getting.

“Sir have you seen a really ugly blue alien?” You ask a random person and the man turns around to look at you. “With an outstandingly big hat.” You add and and see a grin spreading on his face.

“Can’t say i have. What’s his name gorgeous? Maybe I’m able to help. But I’m more curious about your name.” The man said as he stepped closer and looked down at you. If you weren’t drunk, you would’ve spotted this red flag way earlier.

But when Obi-Wan finally spotted you he saw the man wrap his arm around your waist and pull you closer. And he felt his protective instincts rise in his chest. He hurried through the last group infront of him.

“Can you not— touch me-“ you say, clearly getting annoyed by this man but he seems to enjoy it.

“Don’t worry gorgeous, I’ll make sure you won’t want to think about anything else” he said pulling you closer.

“Let her go.” Obi-Wan said with a warning tone, standing behind you.

“Oh i see you have more admirers” The man said and you realized how drunk he was by the awful smell of his breath.

“You heard her she doesn’t want you to touch her. Now let her go.” Obi-Wan said again, and he’s refraining himself from grabbing his lightsaber.

“Will you both just shut up and leave me alone?” You say annoyed, tired of this entire night while you actually have an important mission. Cad Bane. Capturing Cad Bane. That’s what this night was about. You push away from the man as much as you can, but stumble back against Obi. Who was surprised but immediatly steadied you and place a hand on your waist. Normally you would’ve felt butterflies at the action. Now you just felt more irritated.

“I don’t think she likes you, sleemo.” The man said when he noticed your irritated look. And obi’s brow furrowed.

“She’s with me. Go buy another drink.” He told him and he realized you were walking away again.

“I can handle my own problems-“ you mumble towards Obi and see the two men glaring at eachother.

“For force’sake just leave us alone, I’m not interested-“ you say, your words still slurring slightly as you try to get away from Obi-Wan. And he lets you.

“Oh I don’t think so gorgeous-“ the man said when he reached for you again. And before Obi-Wan stepped towards you, you use the Force to throw someone else’s drink towards his head and it shatters, hitting his temple. Which is now bleeding. Obi-Wan pauses in his step. You apparantly were able to handle this without stepping in.

“Kriff—“ the man whined as he looked at you.

“Not interested.” You tell him again and then walk away. Not wanting to be distracted or held up by having to deal with idiotic men.

Obi-Wan had warned the guy again to not follow and he seemed to have taken the hint when he noticed his lightsaber around his belt. Then he turns to catch up with you. But you’re walking through the entire bar it seems like. He barely managed to catch up with you almost tripping over multiple people.

“Would you please just stand still and wait—“ Obi-Wan said as he reached for your arm again.

“No I’m looking for Bane while you’re busy with many other irrelevant things-“ you say until Obi turns you around and manages to grasp your wrist.

“We’re not going to find Bane tonight, now if you would please just listen—“

“I am.” You say are you turn away again because you were determined to find him tonight and end his crimes.

Obi-Wan grew slightly annoyed with your stubborness and sighed deeply. He whirled you around again and placed both of his hands on your shoulders. Forcing you to look at him.

“Listen to me, Bane isn’t here. He’s not going to be. He managed to find out his location would be compromised to the Order by one of his newer contacts. So he isn’t here.” He told you. And you managed to digest half of the information he told you, but it was clear Bane wasn’t here. And you grow more annoyed for some reason.

“Great so all of this was for nothing.” You mumble crossing your arms.

“No it wasn’t, we now know he wouldn’t be here in the first place, otherwise we could’ve only guessed.” He replied.

You stay silent for a moment as Obi-Wan looks at you. He’s a bit worried about your state. But didn’t mention it yet.

“How do you know?” You ask him then as you look back at his eyes. Those damn eyes of his were clearer than the oceans of Kamino.

“The twilek woman told me. She’s been in contact with someone who works for Bane and knew he wouldn’t be here. But she wasn’t any more helpful.” He told you, and if you weren’t feeling so drunk you would’ve noticed the way his expression changed for a moment.

“I bet you’d beg to differ.” You say bluntly as i glare at him. And he sighs.

“It was necessary. I do not understand why you seem upset about me kissing her.” He said and you wish you could punch him for his stupidity.

“It was stupid.” You state annoyed.

“Stupid?” He questioned.

“You never kiss anyone.”

“You’ve never seen me kiss anyone.” He corrects you and you want to crash his speeder for saying that.

“Did it actually upset you?” He asked when you stayed silent for a moment, and you hate the way his voice sounded genuinely concerned.

“I don’t care who you kiss. I just want you to be careful.” You say then and look away from him. “There’s many way to get drugged.” You add. it was definitely not an excuse.

“Ofcours..” Obi-Wan replied as he still looked at you. “So there’s truly nothing else bothering you?”

You look back at him then. And you wanted to scream at him how you felt. For him to feel the way you do when you see him smiling at you, holding your hand so neither of you get lost in crowds or when you saw him kiss that twilek. But you manage to stay silent. He’s a Jedi. You are too. It could never happen. It would never happen, because he didn’t feel the same. And he never will, not after so many years.

“I hate Avedame.” You say with a straight face. Obi-Wan can’t help his soft sigh.

“You’re drunk.” He states simply.

“A little.” You admit. And he shakes his head.

“We should go. There’s no reason for us to stay here.” He said then. You stay silent for a moment.

“Fine.” You mumble softly and start walking out the bar. Trying to get rid of the thought of what would happen if you did stay here. If you made a move. If you leaned closer to him and caressed his face. If you’d just lean in and kiss him. But he didn’t feel the same. He never had. You hoped he did. That maybe one day he’d confess how he felt all these years, just like the way he had in your dreams. Sometimes you let yourself foolishly believe that they were visions. But after years of being close it led to nothing other than friendship. You are grateful for it, but you desperately wished it could be more. But even though you were sure he was the only one you were ever going to fall for, the only one to ever love as deeply as this, you knew he only saw you as his friend. It could never be more.

[bumblebriez]

Love Stricken (PT.3)

(Gojo Satoru x Chubby!Fem!Reader)

(PT.1) (PT.2) (PT.4) (PT.5)

⚠️⚠️⚠️: Swearing, no smut in this one, just a bit of love and a BAD possessive Ex.

Never in a million years would you think, you'd catch the eyes of a certain jujutsu sorcerer but you did and with that came alot of consequences. That you would eventually find out the hard way.

Your parents vanished a good couple of years ago with no knowledge of why and where, leaving you; the eldest, to care and provide for your younger siblings. Being responsible and forgetting about the life you used to live, you felt lost. Struggling a lot with your self worth.

Your best friend took it upon herself to finally get you to live your life a little more by taking you out on the town for a night.

But you found that night was the start of your downfall.

Ahhhhhh hah heeeyyy 🫣

So we listen and we don’t judge..

Nah but for real, apologies for taking a long time, I really haven’t picked up any of my works, I just haven’t been motivated to write at all but what I did end up writing ages ago, I just finished. Just a reminder this isn’t following the plot, there will be aspects from it but not really.

Im gonna try and motivate myself more because I really do enjoy writing and I was really enjoying getting into the rhythm of this one. I have some… plans for this.

Sadly this chapter isn’t as long as the last two but I’ll make up for it. Appreciate the support! Thank you for reading! <3

********

GIF by saewrq

********

It been a good couple of weeks since you heard from Gojo. You quite literally held onto the fact he would call you back later.

You convinced yourself that he was just busy to save yourself some pity.

You’d kind of wished you had forgotten the whole thing but atlas, you didn’t. Every night you laid there, staring at your phone; waiting for his name to flash on the screen.

And now you’re thinking; maybe you should have called him instead.

Maybe you were in over your head already.

Maybe you were feeling delusional.

Another week goes by and you find yourself standing in your small kitchen, staring at a new bouquet of flowers that sat upon the counter.

You had assumed that they were from Gojo, though it didn’t say. You wouldn’t lie.. it was a cute gesture but it pissed you off. How did he have the time to send you fucking flowers but not send you a simple text?

Your phone resting in your hand and you struggle to tap on his contact. You run your free hand through your messy hair; trying and failing at calming your overwhelming body.

Letting out a sigh of defeat, you place your phone softly on the counter. Anxiety ran through your veins, shaking your body at the simple thought of even sending a text.

You didn’t want to seem… needy.

Even though you haven’t even tried to talk to the man.

Maybe you were playing too much and you just missed out on something that could’ve been great.

All these intrusive thoughts ran through your head, making you feel worse and worse. You fail to notice little eyes peering up at you.

“Sidda?” You break from your trance, turning to look down at the little strawberry blonde haired girl. Her little fingers wrapping around the edge of the hoodie, you wore.

“Yes baby?” You hummed, crouching down to her level.

“Are we still going to the park today, like you promised?”Her body swayed slightly as if she was nervous to ask. The question immediately triggering a previous memory of the promise from last week.

“Shit.” You whispered to yourself, Akari not hearing your swear.

“Yes.. yes! Of course. Go get your brother and we can get ready to leave.” Your eyes fluttered to your kitchen window, the bright sun rays shining through.

It is a beautiful day.

A day for distractions.

You watched excitement spread across the wee girl’s face; your lips curl into a smile.

Akari darts off, wasting no more time; her voice echoing throughout the house, hollering after her brother.

You take one last look at your phone; a desperate attempted at manifestation.

Demolishing every last bit of hope you clung onto, you let out a sigh of defeat. Your feet move before your body as they slowly stride out of the kitchen.

At least it was a good night. One you most likely won’t forget.

Little to your knowledge, the day was only beginning.

**

A faded smile sits on your lips as you watch the memory play on your phone. It was an old video, one where Akari didn’t even exist yet.

You watch as your father hoists your little brother into the air when he was just a wee boy, his giggling flew out of your phone’s speakers.

A familiar sadness filled your core as you swiped to another video.

Your mother was cradling her newborn in her arms, a cute little girl. Your mother’s eyes were filled with so much love as she stared down at Akari. It wasn’t long after that they had vanished, leaving nothing but leaving you with everything.

Your tongue swiped at your bottom lip, wetting the dryness as you lock your phone, having enough of reminiscing.

You look over to where your siblings had gone off too and see your little brother pushing your baby sister on the swing.

Families walked past you of all shapes and sizes, parents and their newborns. No broken families insight.

You were lost in your daze not noticing your little brother approaching you. Alone.

“Have you seen Akari?” You jump at the sudden voice, immediately alarmed.

“What do you mean Riku? She was just with you?” You exclaimed to the younger ebony haired boy, moving to stand up; your eyes scanning the playground equipment.

“I know. She just ran off, I assumed she was coming to you.” He said back, following you as you slowly made your way around the playground, looking for your little bundle of joy.

“You can’t take your eyes off her, you know that.”

“Why weren’t you watching then!” You chose to ignore his comment, knowing he was right. You should’ve known better.

Your pace started to speed up as you felt your heart leap into your throat. If anything happened to her, you would never forgive yourself.

“She kept saying something about patting the pretty doggy. Dogs aren’t even aloud in here.” Riku spoke as he kept up with you. That only made you worry even more, thinking she left the safety of the boundaries.

Both of you past the food stands, specifically the ice cream one, thinking maybe she changed her course and was wanting an ice cream.

You accidentally bumped into a man, not bothering to look up, too focused on your own.

You muttered a quick apology before setting off again, pulling your little brother with you.

The man stood in shock and confusion at the sudden impact that he was not expecting; watching as you disappeared from his view.

To your relief, the search was short lived as the familiar strawberry blonde started to come into view.

You sigh loudly as you made your way to her, seeing a teen crouched down, talking to the little girl.

“Akari! You can’t run off like that.” Ignoring the teen, you quickly pulled the girl into your arms, squeezing her tightly.

“I wanted to pat the pretty puppy.” Her voice croaked out as you held her at arms length.

“Honey. Dogs aren’t aloud in here.” You say softly as you caressed her plush red cheek in your hand.

“Yeah. Idiot.” Riku muttered lightly, earning a glare from you.

“Yes they are. It was his doggy!” She pointed to the teen behind her and you finally acknowledged the awkward teen as he stared at the little girl with a semi shocked expression.

“I’m sorry about her. She has a crazy imagination. Always running off to find something new.” You grumbled, standing to your feet, dusting the grit from your knees; attention on him.

“It’s.. fine.” The teen spoke with uncertainty, his dark blue eyes meeting yours. Making you feel a little uneasy as the shock was quick to go, replaced by a stoic expression.

“Thank you for staying with her..?”

“Megumi.”

“Megumi! Thank you. I appreciate it.” You exclaimed with a bright smile. He didn’t really respond, simply giving you a nod.

“Y/N?”

You turn to the man that was approaching your little group, who just happened to be the one you ran into earlier. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint where you’ve seen him from or why he felt so familiar.

He was sporting a dark blue jacket with a high collar and matching slim pants, along with a pair of black dress boots.

But what stood out the most to you was the black blindfold he was wearing.

Not to mention the deathly familiar pure white hair.

Just as you were going to apologise for bumping into him, it hit you like a truck.

“Satoru?”

“I see you’ve met one of my students.” He gestured to Megumi but your eyes never left his form.

You’ve been waiting for weeks to hear from this man.

And here he was. Two ice creams in his hands. At the park.

All kinds of feelings surge through your body as all kinds of thoughts swirled in your head.

Realising this was definitely not the place to speak your mind. You don’t speak.

at least to him.

“Come on kids. We’re leaving.” You mumbled down to your siblings. Avoiding wherever Gojo’s glaze was.

“But-“ Akari tried to protest but you just gave her a stern look, quick to interrupt her; your hands pushing against their backs.

“I said we’re leaving.”

Satoru was shocked when he saw you, he saw you a mile away. Excitement was brewing in his chest at the thought he’d finally get to see you again, to the point he’d purposely allowed you to bump into him; lowering his infinity.

But to his surprise, you didn’t recognise him. At least not right away.

He wasn’t going to lie.

He was expecting a bigger reaction from you than what he got.

And he knew deep down, he was definitely the cause.

Work was busy, it was very hands on; more than normal. These special grade curses were really giving it to him; especially Sukana and from that he didn’t realise how much time had passed.

Satoru watched your retreating form, most definitely watching your plump ass swaying with every step.

“Who and what did you do to her?” Gojo’s not only student but dependent muttered to him; eyeing his guardian suspiciously.

“That’s offensive. I’m offended!” Megumi rolled his eyes annoyingly at the ‘adult’ and his deflection at the question.

Satoru sighed softly, the smile he was forcing dropping slightly.

“Completely nothing. That’s why.” The raven haired boy’s eyebrow raised as Gojo’s facade slipped away for a second.

“You two should probably make up. That little girl saw my shikigami. She could be in trouble.”

Gojo tapped his chin as thoughts ran through his head. He was obviously pretty good at sensing cursed energy but he didn’t sense any within you.

Were they your offspring?

Where was their dad?

“You’re right Gumi!” His feet moved before his torso, a hop to his step; pushing the ice cream cones he just purchased into Megumi’s hands.

“Where are you going? We are supposed to be looking for this special grade.” Megumi called out, watching his guardian bounce away.

“To make up! You’ve got this!” The raven huffed out before looking down at his shikigami companion; the living twin.

“Don’t call me that.” The boy whispered more to himself before poking his tongue out to lick at the frozen concoction.

“Gross. Rum raisin.”

**

You sit in your room with your head in your hands, your foot was bouncing against the hardwood floor.

You felt anger. Unnecessary anger. Shame.

His stupid handsome face kept flashing in your mind. It was driving you crazy.

You really shouldn’t be angry, it takes two to tango but is it wrong to expect someone to make the first move?

You’ve been fucked over and fooled too many times to count and with a guy like Gojo.. you want to take extra precautions.

Is that so wrong?

Why do you feel so stupid then?

“What’s wrong?” You quickly lift your head up and see Riku standing in your doorway, looking at you with almost worry.

“It’s nothing. Just have a headache.” You smile briefly, correcting your posture.

“It’s not what I said right? I’m sorry if it is.” His almost worrying expression deepened; his eyes glistening.

“No no. It’s not that. It’s really nothing.” Obviously it was something. You just didn’t want to explain you’d caught feelings for the guy you had a one night stand with to your 13 year old brother.

The boys frown deepened, knowing it wasn’t nothing. He knew you better than that but for his own safety, he wasn’t going to push it further.

The last thing he wanted to see was you upset over nothing that was obviously something.

“Where’s your sister?” You asked as you watched Riku make his way over to you, taking a seat beside you.

“Watching her dumb show.” The boy muttered with an annoyed tone. You smiled sweetly before bumping him softly with your elbow “You use to watch dumb shows too.”

Riku scoffed with a roll of his eyes “Yeah but not like hers. They are really dumb.” You giggled at your younger brother.

You hummed lightly, wrapping an arm around his back; pulling him closer, squeezing softly.

“Do you still think about Mum and Dad?” That previous feeling of sadness returned, your smile dropped slightly.

“Of course. Every now and again.” You spoke with a small voice.

“I don’t. Every-time I think about them, I get mad.” Your hand brushed through Riku’s jet black locks.

“What makes you mad?”

“That they left. They left us here.” Your head tilted to rest on the crown of his own. You weren’t going to lie, you were resentful. You use to be filled to the brim with anger.

So you understood completely where he was coming from but the more you grew into the person you are now.. the more responsible you became.

You had no room for unwarranted feelings. You had had kids to care for. You needed to be different. You needed to grow up.

Perhaps that’s where a lot of your problems stem from. Perhaps those feelings are still there, bottled up.

“Siddda.” The comfort of the silence was broken as your little sister appeared in your room. Pulling a slight grumble from Riku.

“Yes baby?” Her little hand pointed in the direction of the living room.

“There’s a weird man at the front door, he’s asking for you.” You perked an eyebrow at Akari before pushing Riku from you; gently.

“Both of you, stay here.” You muttered, pushing your sister further into your room.

Your feet hit the hardwood floors softly as you strided your way to the living room.

Immediately you halt as you see the ‘weird’ man now in your humble abode. Shivers ran up your spine as your eyes take him in.

“I thought she would recognise me, I’m a bit hurt.”

You straightened your posture, staring coldly at the man.

“Why would she?”

He tilted his head at you, a smirk resting on his lips. “She did love me.”

“She was two.”

He started to look around your home, taking small steps towards you. Making you feel on edge more than you already are.

“Nothings changed I see.”

“What do you want Zack?”

You huffed in annoyance, placing your hands on your hips as you stared daggers at your.. previous partner.

His smirk widened slightly as you almost prowled around your living room, his eyes never leaving yours. “Can’t I just visit an old friend?”

You removed your hands from your hips, crossing your arms across your chest instead, the annoyed expression deepening on your features. “We are not friends. If I remember correctly, we ended on bad terms.”

Zack let out a small breathless chuckle, his eyes glancing over at the entrance to the kitchen, seeing your flowers sitting on the counter but the archway. He changed the topic quick.

“I see you got my flowers.” His eyes landed back onto you.

“Your-“ Your eyes widened slightly, realising you had been wrong. They weren’t from Gojo. They were from HIM. “You sent them?”

He let out a small playful scoff “Of course. Who else?”

You couldn’t help be feel the pang of disappointment in your heart, your face showing that you were more offended than disappointed though, trying to hide the fact.

He lean forward a little that stupid smirk still on his lips “Did you think you got it from someone else? Please.”

“Who would send you flowers when you barely leave the house?” He continued to talk down to you, his tone carrying not only amusement but condescension.

“You need to leave.” You spoke in a stern tone, not in the mood for his antics, you didn’t know why he was here and frankly you couldn’t care less.

“Come on. I know you miss me.” Zack purred, starting to slowly make his way over to you, you couldn’t help yourself as your body recoiled slightly, taking a few steps back, not wanting him any closer.

Your breathing hitched as you felt your back hit the wall and Zack was now standing in front of you, you could practically smell his awful cologne that you always hated flowing off him in waves.

“See. I can see it. You still want me.”

You turned your nose up at him, unable to hide the disgust that started to rise inside you. “I don’t.” Unable to stop the growl.

Suddenly Zack slammed you against the wall, holding you against it by your shoulders, his smirk turning into something more.. sinister. A look you were all to familiar with.

You couldn’t help the hard flinch from your body, the sharp gasp that escaped your lips.

Zack’s eyes glimmered as he leaned in towards your ear “You’re mine. Always will be.” A cold shiver ran through you, fear slowly creeping through.

“What are you doing?” A younger voice broke through the tension, saving you from.. whatever the situation was leading too.

Both You and Zack turned towards the voice and you saw Riku standing there, Akari hiding behind him.

Zack forced a sickly sweet smile, looking back at you, releasing his hold on your shoulders; brushing down your arms to straighten your top.

“Just catching up kid.” You let out a small breath of relief as he pulled away, removing himself from your boundaries.

Zack sent you a small wink before turning on his heels and heading for the door but not before looking over his shoulders and saying “Enjoy the flowers Y/N.”

And with that he left.

Leaving you with unspoken feelings that had seemed to have never left, trauma that was never fixed.. that you didn’t think could be.

You turned to your siblings, forcing yourself to be strong. Strong for them but not for yourself..

Forcing a small shaky smile to them, ignoring the look Riku was giving you as he studied your demeanour. That boy was too smart for his own good.

“Let’s get dinner ready.”

**

After settling your siblings in, preparing dinner and tucking them in for the night.

You made your way out of your house, the bouquet of flowers in your hand, your feet heading straight towards the trash can.

Without any hesitation, you threw the flower to the bottom of the bin, slamming the lid shut and letting out a shaky breath.

You inhaled deeply, running a hand through your hair, dragging your hand down your face.

“Those from your boyfriend?”

Your eyes widened, your whole body jumping from the unexpected voice, you twirl around to face the man, being met with Satoru.

A sheepish grin plastered on his lips, his hands shoved into his pockets. He was dressed in casual attire, very different from what you witnessed him in earlier today. No blindfold. His glasses in place.

You couldn’t ignore how attractive he looked, or the way he made you feel just by being in his presence.

But yet you couldn’t help but feel uneasy, not because of him. (Though you couldn’t help still being pissed at him no matter how good he looked.) but from Zack. He really sent you in a spiral and you felt unsafe. On edge.

“Wha- what are you doing here?” You stuttered out, wrapping your arms around your body, he tilted his head as he took you in, if he noticed something was off.. he didn’t question it.

“So you can talk?” His smile widened just slightly, his eyes slowly trailing over your body, not bothering to hide his interest.

You huffed in annoyance, your eyes involuntarily rolling at his teasing tone. Not a word you heard from this man and he had the urge to tease you.

His smile softened lightly as he took in your annoyed stance.

“Look..” He started with a fleet of hesitation in his tone, taking a step forward. “I get that you’re.. pissed at me-“

You held your hand up to stop him from talking. “I don’t want to hear any excuses. I really don’t.” You made yourself move, heading back towards your porch. You felt guilty that you might’ve been a bit too harsh but you were feeling overwhelmed with.. everything.

Gojo wanted to reach out and grab you but refrained from it, instead choosing to follow you, his eyes briefly glancing over to your trash can.

“Y/N.” He called softly, following you to your front door.

“Please Satoru. I can’t handle this right now.” You murmured softly, going to open the front door.

Gojo couldn’t help but feel frustrated at your lack of patience, he normally could withstand most things, biting back with his own sense of humour and attitude.. but you were different. God you were different and he needed that.

He wanted you. Even if it was just after one night.. you made him feel.. normal. Like he could relax for once. Not being put on a constant pedestal.

“Please just talk to me. Let me explain.” He couldn’t help the hint of desperation that lured into his voice.

You turned to face him with a hard expression “I’m not some booty call okay? Someone you can just.. you can’t just say things like you did and just disappear!” You sighed deeply before continuing. He straightened his posture as he listened, his smile had been completely wiped from his face.

“I just.. I’ve been fucked over too many times, lead on.. hurt and I’ve always been a fool to fall for it..” His face soften at your words but he didn’t interrupt you, he didn’t force his way to control the moment like he knew he could.

“Sweetheart.. You’re more than that.” Gojo spoke softly, taking a few steps up the small stairs connected to your porch before he was standing in front of you, not invading your space like he was prone too, he wanted to pull you in.. not push you away.

“I didn’t lie. I meant everything I said. My life is.. hectic. Work keeps me on my toes, I never wanted you to think I was avoiding you and I’m so sorry that I made you doubt.” Gojo couldn’t believe the words that flowed from his mouth like it was the easiest thing in the world. It wasn’t a common affliction for him to be serious but he wanted you to know.. he needed you to know that he was more than interested in you.

“I won’t lie.. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about that night..” He smiled lightly; his hands clenching into fists trying to ignore the urge to reach out and grab you.

Throughout when he spoke, your hard expression turned more soft but you still felt like you had to be on guard, shaking your head lightly at his comment about your hookup.

He stepped closer to you, peering down at you and not in an intimidating way. You tensed slightly as he reached up to caress the side of your neck.

“You’re absolutely breathtaking and I’d be the fool to not fight for something I want.” You could hear the determination in his voice, his hand moving to your jaw to tilt your chin up at him.

“So what’s it going to be doll. Think you can give me another chance?”

You couldn’t help the small curl of your lips, as you shook your head lightly. “Is that a yes?” He pressed with a mischievous smile, stepping closer to you, his hand came up to caress your cheek gently.

“You better not make me look like a fool.” *You whispered softly, leaning into his touch.*

“Wouldn’t dream of it sweetheart.” Before you could say anything, his lips pressed to yours, moving in a slow and tender manner, your body seemed to react on it’s own; wrapping your arms around his neck as you kept up the pace.

Your eyes fluttered closed blissfully but Gojo’s however..

His bright blue eyes opened and glanced over slowly to your trash can..

His eyes narrowed slightly as his lips continued to move with yours, watching the cursed energy consume the can, swirling menacingly around it. That bouquet wasn’t just any bundle of flowers..

[merxcywritesthings]

𝑆𝑎𝑙 𝐹𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑅𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

Characters: Sal Fisher

TW: None, this is all fluff :)

a/n: My first ever written piece for Tumblr! I’m very excited to publish this for you all to read. The rest of the gang will be coming soon, don’t worry! With that being said, enjoy!

𝐒𝐚𝐥 𝐅𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫:

♡ My favorite baby blue boy 💙

𝐁𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩:

♡ You two met when you moved into Addison Apartments!

♡ You and your family had moved in the apartment that was beside Todd. Your family had encouraged you to go around a meet your neighbors since you had already finished unpacking, and lucky for you, you just happened to run into the blue haired boy with pigtails talking to a kid with glasses, who you presumed to be his friend.

♡ Not wanting to interrupt their conversation, you figured you would introduce yourself to them later. Little did you know you caught the attention of the pigtailed boy as you walked past them, kind of had the look he gave towards Ashley in the second chapter!

♡ Asks Larry or Chug if they had met you and asks a million questions about you also.

♡ He goes out of his way to find more information about you, that cool book you just read about? He will finish the entire book or series that night. Just saw this cool movie? He’s watching it as soon as he gets home from school. This band you recently got into? He’s buying all their albums. He wants to learn everything about you.

♡ Finally, he goes up to apartment door—thankfully you answer and not one of your parents—and introduces himself and soon he finds himself enthralled by you.

♡ Now you two are officially attached at the hip, going where the other goes.

♡ Larry can see Sal growing more and more fond of you each day that passes. Even poking at Sal to make a move already.

♡ Sal finally works up the courage to ask you out that night and asks you at school if you wanted to hang out at his apartment later, and of course you agree.

♡ Freaks out. Tremendously. Is running around the apartment like crazy making sure everything is tidy and neat before you arrive. Even has Larry come up to help him.

♡ Larry tries to calm down Sal, telling Sal that he just needs to breathe and stop worrying because she likes you for who you are and isn’t going to judge you.

♡ That isn’t to say you aren’t freaking out about this too, you have only ever hung out with Sal at school, the treehouse, Larry’s room or Todd’s room.

♡ Panicking, you call Ashley and she tells you the same thing Larry said to Sal.

“Just breathe, Reader; Sal cares for you in his own quiet way, I’ve seen the look in his eyes whenever you’re near. The way he remembers the things that matter to you, it’s obvious that he loves you. You just need to tell him.”

♡ Those words brought you comfort, and little did Sal know you planned on doing the same thing he was doing.

♡ Soon, the time arrives for you to head over to Sal’s place to hang out.

♡ You two are having so much fun, playing with his Gearboy, Messing with Gizmo, watching horror movies, etc.

♡ You even got to meet Sal’s dad, who tells you to call him Henry instead of Mr. Fisher—he jokingly told you that Mr. Fisher is name you would use to call an old person and he isn’t ready for that title yet.

♡ Then the time comes where he feels confident enough to ask you to be his.

♡ When he does ask you out, I picture you guys having a Luz and Amity moment from the Owl House—when Luz tries to ask out Amity but she’s beat Luz to it first.

𝐃𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩:

♡ He 100 percent trusts you—after all you did ask him to date you—but it takes him a while to take his prosthetic off around you, like months.

♡ Once he feels more comfortable with you, the mask is always off.

Side note: Sal loves it when you take in consideration of his skincare, I headcanon that Sal has very sensitive skin after the incident and can only use certain brands of soap to wash his face with. One time you found a brand that wouldn’t aggravate his skin and offered to help him wash his face with it, he started to cry.

♡ Sal would try and be the best boyfriend he could be: never forgetting anniversaries, reminding you of your schedule, helping you with homework, etc.

♡ Would absolutely teach you how to play guitar in your guys spare time.

♡ Writes little songs for you on and sometimes plays them for you.

♡ I feel like Sal’s type of love is physical touch—since he was deprived of it at a young age—quality time, acts of service and words of affirmation.

♡ Sal will go out of his way to get you little gifts or trinkets (whether bought or found somewhere random), he always makes sure to take mental notes whenever you mention you want something from a certain store.

“Hey I found this flower, and it reminded me of us.”

♡ Loves prolonged hugs and cuddle sessions with you, like I said earlier, I picture Sal being touched deprived so any chance he could take you to either his room or the nearest sofa with Gizmo laying near you guys, it is like heaven for him.

♡ Would let you paint his nails, do his hair, or even put makeup on him. He loves being your personal model, it makes him feel pretty.

♡ Sal is not really big on looks—for obvious reasons—he just wants someone who will accept for who he is.

♡ Sal is obsessed with wearing your clothes. Sal is a short king and if you and him are the exact same size or your taller than him, you best BELIEVE he will be walking around Addison Apartments with some form of your clothing on.

♡ If you wear something of his though? Game over.

♡ One time you went into Sal’s room thinking he was in there, only to find him gone and his sweater lying neatly on his bed. Surely he wouldn’t get mad over you wearing his black sweater for a little bit, right? Once Sal returned back to his room after trying to find ghosts around the building, he found you sprawled out on his bed , wearing his sweater, with Gizmo in your lap, purring. This boy’s face became completely flushed under his mask and couldn’t even bring himself to look at you for the remainder of the day.

♡ Dates are more lowkey between you two. Staying home and playing video games or movie nights are two of his favorites.

♡ Please kiss him all over, prosthetic or not. He adores it. 💙

♡ Calls you Bluebell, Love, Princess/Prince, Sunshine, Sweetheart, Dear, Beloved.

♡ Would absolutely cook for you if you ask him too. For me, I feel Sal’s mom used to be the main cook of the household, reading recipes she would find from cookbooks. After her passing, Sal secretly took one of her cookbooks and stashed it away in his room in New Jersey and still has it even as an adult.

♡ Whenever you guys are public, he makes it known you are taken—not in a jealous kind of way, more like showing public affection.

♡ Locks pinkies with you.

♡ Loves just wrapping his arms around you and laying his head on your shoulder. It brings him comfort.

♡ Reads you like a book, even though he’s not great with his emotions, he can tell whenever yours have changed.

♡ Has matching bracelets with you, that he never takes off, unless he’s showering.

♡ Absolutely sees a future with you.

𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑧𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛. 𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑. ���ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘𝑠! <3

𝐷𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑦: 𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑝ℎ𝑖𝑐𝑠-𝑛-𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒

[five-and-dimes]

WIP Word Train Game

Okay so this is a million years late, but I got tagged by three different people for this game and I FINALLY got it all done. 

Rules: tagger gives a word, then for each letter of that word you share a sentence/excerpt from your wips that start with that letter.

This is going to be a beast of a post so it’s going under a read more- In total with three words, I had 15 letters. I have 12 WIPs, so I chose to go through and write something for every. Single. One. So under this read more is at least one excerpt from ALL my WIPs. Enjoy!

@seiya-starsniper :HEART

H: (From the fic where Hob keeps calling the Waking “the real world” and hurting Dream’s feelings.)

Hob feels like he is in two very different relationships. When Dream visits him during his waking hours, he is… aloof. Not cold, exactly, not the same level of distance he had in previous centuries, but still holding Hob carefully at arm's length. He does not rebuff Hob’s physical affection, but nor does he reach out on his own. When Hob touches him he simply holds himself very still. In the Dreaming, however, Dream will drape himself over Hob’s body, pulling him close until there is no space between them. He will run his hands through Hob’s hair, starry eyes gazing at him longingly as he showers him with poetic words of his love. 

E: (From “Cinnamon Boy”, the college AU where Dream is always cold.)

Even his siblings had pushed him away for his frigidness. He remembers being small and hearing the shouts and shattering of his parents fighting again in the dark of his room. For a while, Death allowed him to crawl into her bed, curling close and trying to convince himself that everything was safe in the arms of his big sister. But finally, one day she grew tired of it, pushing him away when he tried to cling to her. “Dream,” she groaned, “stop it. At least stay on that side,” she shoved him away from her, half asleep and frustrated, “your hands are freezing.”  Tucking his hands against his chest, Dream blinked back tears. All his siblings had complained to varying degrees anytime they were forced to hold his hand when they were out, but Death had always been the kindest. He had always known that his elder sister was the peacemaker among all of them, but… he hadn’t realized that putting up with him had been a part of that.  He had thought that Death volunteered to hold his hand because she loved him. He realized now that she was simply sparing the others from the burden. Years later, now a young adult, he is still crawling into people’s beds looking for someplace safe. And he is still cold. And he is still pushed away.

A: (From chapter 6 of “When Dreams Become Reality”, the Inception au)

Adrian groaned, “Is my whole dream going to be like this?” he muttered. Hob frowned, and when he looked at Arthur the other man explained, “This is where the inception job happened. Our mark was on this flight, and we had until landing to finish the job.” “Really centering around this first job,” Hob teases, and Adrian rolls his eyes.

R: (From “Dead Hearts”, the human au where Hob was Dream’s childhood bully.)

Reaching out, Lucienne frowned when Dream startled under her touch. It has been some time since he had reacted like that. “What’s wrong?” She asked gently.  Dream bit his lip. Lucienne knew… everything. She had been there when he was at his lowest, her and Matthew and Jessamy, protecting him and lifting him up without any judgement or disdain, even when he felt certain he did not deserve their kindness. She knew about the things that had put him in that place. She knew about Hob. And yet, he cannot bring himself to tell her what is happening. Perhaps he fears she will discourage him, give him the same lecture Death always has about letting go of the past and not holding grudges. Perhaps he fears she will look down on him, will finally see how horrid and broken he is to seek even a fraction of revenge on the man who tormented him. Perhaps he fears that she will not take his side, will tell him he is overreacting. Will tell him that he had deserved it. Whatever the reason, he is afraid. And so he smiles, covering Lucienne’s hand with his own, “Nothing,” he tells her, “It is simply. One of those weeks.”

T: (From the next fic in my Immortal Throuple au.)

“Tell me what you want?” Hob whispered against his neck, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles against Dream’s sharp hip bones, “One thing. Just one thing I can give you to make you happy.” Dream shivered in his arms, and Hob can feel his throat move under his lips as he swallowed thickly. “I…” His voice is so soft and uncertain, his fingers curling anxiously against Hob’s shoulders. Hob kisses along his jaw, his cheek, brushes their noses together softly. There is nothing for Dream to be afraid of, and yet Hob can feel the rabbit beat of his heart beneath his hands. “I would like to be facing you,” he finally confesses, stiff and nervous and unable to look Hob in the eye, “I want. To see you.”

@cuubism :GLOW

G: (From an omegaverse au where Hob finds out Dream has been hiding his ruts from him.)

Growling low in his throat, Hob cannot help the swell of protectiveness that rushes through him as he reaches out to cover Dream’s hand. “Hey,” he waits until Dream glances up at him through his eyelashes, “you take care of me during my heats, right? Your ruts are about you. About giving you what you want, what you need.” Dream is shaking his head before he’s even finished speaking, “It is not fair of me to ask you to suffer for days just because-” “Why on Earth would taking care of you make me suffer?” Hob interrupts, appalled, “I love you. You’re not a burden, you’re not asking for anything I don’t want to give.”

L: (Another from the fic where Hob keeps calling the Waking “the real world” and hurting Dream’s feelings.)

“Love,” Hob sighed against his neck, each word mouthed against his skin, “Love, love, my love,” and Dream sighs beneath him, holding Hob close as the black sands cradle them, impossibly soft and smooth.  Everything here is so magical, so wondrous, Dream most of all, and Hob wishes he was a poet so he could do it all justice, but he’s not and he never has been, so he settles for kisses and the word “love” repeated over and over. The next day, Dream walks into the New Inn and Hob grins widely, “Hey stranger,” he greets.  For a moment, Hob thinks he sees something like despair on Dream’s face at his words. But when he blinks, it is gone. So he must have imagined it.

O: (From a fic for the Dreamling Bingo prompt “creature: feral”.)

“Oh, this is horrendous,” Johanna whispered, her nose crinkling in disgust. Everything about the situation was horrendous, Hob couldn’t argue with that, but Johanna nodded towards the rings of sigils, “The protections here are frighteningly fragile. Everything is painted on, not carved. All it takes is someone getting a little too close and scuffing one of the marks and the whole thing becomes useless.” Looking down at the moat surrounding the various rings, Johanna scoffed, “And that’s not even holy water.” Hob did a double take, “I’m sorry, what?”  Johanna shushed him, and they both glanced quickly to ensure that they hadn’t drawn any attention to themselves. Leaning in a bit closer, Hob kept his voice soft and even this time, “How can you even tell?” “I’m good at my job,” she offered cryptically, “Ol’ Burgess got scammed.”

W: (From a fic for the Dreamling Bingo prompt “adoption”.)

“Well, you’re obviously good with them,” Hob smiled easily, feeling more than comfortable to trust this man, “Any particular one you feel drawn to?” At the moment, the kittens were still too young to have noticeable differences in their personalities, but if he had a favorite, he would make note for anyone else who came to see them. There is a long, drawn-out pause, and he assumes Morpheus is simply considering the question with the same quiet gravity as he seems to do with everything. But then, he turns to Hob, face steeled, “I would like all of them.” Hob must have misheard, “You…” he blinks rapidly, “You want all four of them?” He nods, just once, deliberate and firm, “Yes.” There is another pause as Hob waits for… something. An explanation, a story, or a reasoning, anything even remotely resembling a normal conversation that someone might offer after asking to adopt an entire litter of kittens. Dream offers nothing but stony silence, staring at Hob unblinking as he waits for an answer. Hob would be terrified to play poker with this man. 

@valeriianz :LENGTH

L: (Another from a fic for the Dreamling Bingo prompt “adoption”.)

Letting Morpheus into the apartment, he gestures vaguely at the living room, “Feel free to set those down wherever there’s space. I know it’s a bit of a mess in here,” he rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously.  Morpheus glances around, no hint of judgement on his face, though to be fair, Hob had trouble picking out any emotion from his expressions. Eventually, he walks to a corner of the room, next to a small side table and places the carriers on the ground. “I do not want them to get in your way,” he offered, “And it would be better for the kittens to explore them on their own, at first.”

E: (From “My Soul to Keep”, the sequel to “Now I Lay Me”.)

Each night, the dream is the same. Hob knows it is a dream, but not in the way he does when he is with Dream properly, when he can travel and take everything in in full awareness. Here, he has no control. No way to make it stop. He is crouched on the edge of a cliff, his body hanging half over the open air as he reaches down. He is holding Dream’s hand. He is the only thing keeping Dream from plummeting to the ground. Each night, Dream looks up at him, calm and sorrowful and resigned, white eyes gazing steadily at him even as Hob grunts and struggles and fails to pull Dream up.  And each night, Dream opens his mouth and says, “Let go.”

N: (From a fic about touch starved Dream struggling with communication.)

Nervously, Dream twisted his fingers together, shoulders up around his ears as he mumbled, “I… do not wish to bother you.” Hob smiled gently, “Wouldn’t have offered if it was a bother,” he pointed out. Dream bit his lip, and it is both adorable and heartbreaking how much this simple, innocent situation seems to scare him. “If you get uncomfortable we can stop. There’s no rules or time limit or anything. I just think it might help.” Dream swallowed, looking up at Hob and searching his face. Finally, he seems to steel himself, approaching the couch like it might attack him. Slowly, carefully, he sits beside Hob. There is another pause as he takes some deep breaths, but Hob doesn’t rush him, simply hitting play on the movie. The sounds of the opening help fill the space, Hob leaning back against the couch casually, not looking at Dream so as not to make him even more nervous. The opening credits are just ending when Dream finally musters the courage to lay his head in Hob’s lap. His entire body is tense, as though bracing to be scolded or pushed away despite all of Hob’s reassurances, and Hob’s heart breaks.

G: (Another from the next fic in my Immortal Throuple au.)

Groaning, Calliope covered her face with her hands, dropping onto the couch dramatically, “He was so sweet,” she sighed, “I was at the bookstore and ran into him. Literally. Wasn’t looking where I was going and barreled into him, dropped a dozen books all over the floor. And he apologized to me. Helped me pick everything up like a proper gentleman and then asked me about my favorite poet.” Hob laughed, “Oh no, that’s your weak spot.” “I am aware,” she sighed again, “Had to pull him into a supply closet almost immediately.” Laughing again, Hob let his head drop back to face the ceiling, “When I met him he was in the park. Feeding the birds.” “No,” Calliope gasped, sitting up, eyes wide and shining at the mental image, “You are joking.” Hob shook his head, “Nope. This dark little slip of a thing, surrounded by pigeons and sparrows and sprinkling seeds for them. Nearly bit through my cheek trying not to squeal, he was so cute.”

T: (From a fic for the Dreamling Bingo prompt “tied to a bed”.)

There is a long moment where they both simply stare at each other. The other boy snaps out of it first, his face flushing and slapping a hand over his eyes and backing out of the room. “I apologize, please excuse me-” “No no no, wait!” Hob finds his voice, “Please, I need you to untie me!” The stranger froze, but only for a moment. Separating his fingers just slightly, he stumbled back into the room, grabbing a blanket off the floor and tossing it over Hob’s lower half. Hob has to bite back the urge to ask ‘What? Don’t like what you see?’ He just had to be rescued by the most gorgeous person he'd ever seen. The irony was cruel.

H: (From a fic for the Dreamling Bingo prompt “haunted hotel”.)

Hob nodded thoughtfully, not entirely sure what he was meant to do with that information, but curiosity still driving him forward, “Do you know how you died?” The ghost flinched, and Hob backtracked quickly, “Wait, I’m sorry, that was- that was so rude-” “It’s fine,” the ghost interrupted his rambling. Hob still felt bad though. The ghost wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I…”  The moment stretches, and Hob forces himself to stay quiet. To let the specter take all the time he needs.  Finally, he looks up, his eyes watery. Hob had never considered if ghosts could cry. “I don’t remember.”

I have no idea who has already done this, so feel free to ignore me lol

@beatnikfreakiswriting @softest-punk @gabessquishytum @pellaaearien @tj-dragonblade @kydrogendragon

Your word is: TURN

[hearts4golbach]

The Night Shift.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

Chapter 30.

the day before the concert, tara and i spent hours putting together our perfect Falling in Reverse concert outfits. with the two of our closets combined, and with the help of Jake and Johnnies too, but they don't need to know that, we were finally content with what we were going in. clothes were scattered everywhere, but we'd worry about that later.

Tara decided on a mini skirt with 3 different belts that we had found in jakes closet, which she had stacked strategically. she took one of my blinged up hot pink crop tops that i hadn't worn since 8th grade and had that as her top. she threw a fur coat over the top of everything. she threw on her chunky black boots with spikes and a cute pair of leg warmers on to finish the look. she had been planning on the makeup she was going to do for months, but all it was was her usual makeup with pink eyeshadow and eyeliner stars on her cheek.

i ended up wearing [outfit of your choice] and paired it with [makeup of your choice].

johnnies outfit was jaw-dropping. he chose his black lace button up and obviously wore it halfway unbuttoned. he layered about 10 different necklaces and rings. he also decided on wearing a new pair of dark red skinny jeans with his usual black boots. he tied it all together with his leather jacket. for johnnies makeup, he smudged red lipstick under his eyes and streaked black eyeliner down his face.

jakes outfit was just as cunty as the rest of us; he wore a cropped black tank top paired with his favorite pair of flared jeans. he also chose his belt with bullets on it. he decided on not even bringing a jacket with his reason being "he has tattoos for a reason." he also wore platform shoes and an arrangement of bracelets, some i had never seen before. jake decided to wear no makeup to the concert.

tara slept over so it'd be easier for all of us to take the 4 hour drive early in the morning. we had decided to rent a hotel so we could all get fucked up during the concert and not have to worry about driving home when we could just call an uber. all of us were restless that night, but forced ourselves to sleep so we were really ready for the concert.

i woke up the next morning wrapped in johnnies arms, per usual. the alarm was reverberating in my ears as Johnnie was also starting to stir awake. he opened his eyes and squinted them to look at me, a small smile forming on his face. "mornin'." his groggy sleep voice greeted.

"good morning. you excited?" i asked, sitting up and rubbing my eyes. i climbed out of the bed and stretched, making a million different bones in my body crack at once. "we gotta hurry up and take our showers since everyone else needs to, too."

Johnnies eyes scanned over my body. he sighed and propped himself up on his elbow. "do you want to just take a shower together? it'd save time." he smirked, gently squeezing my hand before he began fidgeting with my fingers.

"i like that idea." i placed a gentle kiss on his lips before dragging him out of bed into the bathroom.

i started the shower, making sure it was nice and warm as Johnnie got undressed. i wasn't far behind him, getting undressed myself before stepping into the shower with him. the warm water on my back woke me up as much as it was relaxing. i watched as the water trickled down Johnnies body and seeped into his inked skin. he ran his moist hands down my body and grabbed the body wash. he squirted some into his hands and began to wash my body. he had nothing but admiration in his eyes as they trailed over every part of me. he made sure no part of me was unwashed before going to wash himself. i did the same for him, helping him wash every inch of his pale skin. he shampooed and conditioned my hair, and while i wash washing mine out, he cleaned his own. he kissed me softly, but passionately before turning off the shower and climbing out. he wrapped me up in a soft towel, as well as himself.

we made our way back to our bedroom to pack our 1 day trip bags quickly. i stole johnnies pair of chunky pajama pants to wear on the drive, as well as my Lana Del Rey tee that was beaten up and bruised from all of the use. i packed all of my makeup and my concert outfit. i didn't bother packing an outfit for the second day there since we were leaving and heading home as soon as we got checked out of the hotel. Johnnie packed pretty much the same thing as i did, the only difference being he did pack an outfit for the second day. he threw on a pair of black skinny jeans and a My Chemical Romance tee shirt to wear on the drive there.

there was a small knock on the door before tara's bright voice called out, "you guys up?" we both answered yeah at the same time. she opened the door and greeted me with a hug. "morning!" she greeted excitedly.

i hugged her back tight. "morning, Tar." i heard the shower start from down the hall. "damn, is Jake just now getting in?"

"yeah, it took me, like, 20 minutes to actually get him out of bed. he snoozed his alarm 3 times before i had to go in there and drag him out of bed myself." she sighed, sitting on the bed next to me.

Johnnie shut down his PC so it wasn't wasting electricity while we were away. "well, that's Jake for you."

tara rolled her eyes. "yeah, well, he needs his beauty sleep, anyway."

"did you get your bag fully packed?" i asked, tossing my bag over my shoulder.

"duh, i got everything ready." she smiled.

the three of us moved down to the living room, bringing our bags and everything else we needed with us. Johnnie sprawled himself out over the couch. i made my way into the kitchen and grabbed a bunch of water bottle and a few snacks for the road, putting them in one of my goat bags and setting it with the rest of our shit. Jake ended up joining me in the kitchen with a towel wrapped around his waist.

"okay, slut." i mumbled under my breath jokingly. i walked back out of the kitchen to join Johnnie on the couch.

"i know you are not talk to me, skank." he snapped his fingers and grabbed his zyns and decaf coffee off of the counter. he threw that shit in the microwave like it was nobody's business. he leaned against the counter and went on his phone.

i rolled my eyes, "is your bag even packed?"

"no," he answered nonchalantly before taking a selfie. i realized later on that he had posted it on his instagram story.

"that's wild that you're worried about your coffee right now, then." i laughed, "what if we're late to see Ronnie?" i over exaggerated.

he pursed his lips, "well, Ronnie can wait for my coffee." he smiled, taking a sip before heading up to his room.

tara had hopped in the shower immediately after jake did. she always took extremely long showers, but she made it quick today.

Jake made his way back downstairs with tara by his side less than 10 minutes later. with all of our bags and shit we needed on hand, we headed out the door.

Johnnie and I climbed into the back seat while jake and tara took the front. tara had music privileges for the first hour of the drive. her music taste was definitely different from mine, but I didn't mind it.

I leaned my head against johnnies shoulder and stared out of the front windshield, watching as all of the buildings and cars sped past. he wrapped his arm around my waist, his hand resting on my hip as he went on his phone to scroll through tiktok. my eyes flickered to his phone, watching as he reposted silly edits of himself, and of me and him, that fans had created.

Jake and tara had begun bickering about her lip smacking that annoyed jake ever so much. I felt johnnies shoulders jiggle, signaling that he was laughing. I quietly laughed along, aswell. they fought like a married couple, sometimes.

I could feel myself becoming drowsy as the car lulled me to sleep. my eyelids felt like bricks. it was way too early in the morning for this, especially when I was in and out of sleep all of last night. I gave in, letting my eyes fall shut as I slowly fell asleep on johnnies shoulder.

I woke up about an hour and a half later. johnnie was now watching Netflix on his phone. tara was passed out in the front seat, and jake was next to her, gently bobbing his head to the slower song playing on the radio. johnnie had felt me stir awake and began to rub my hip gently.

johnnie cleared his throat, "was that a good nap?" he teased.

I stretched my back before placing my head back on his shoulder. "Actually, yeah. your shoulder is a great pillow." I placed a kiss on his cheek, nuzzling my head further into his neck. "we should stop and get breakfast somewhere."

"I second that." jake stuck up one finger before rubbing his tummy. "I could eat a horse pussy right now."

his weird comment made tara finally open her eyes, as she had been stirring for a while. "what a great sentence to wake up to, jake."

he patted her knee, "sorry, sweetie."

we pulled into the closest McDonald's and bought breakfast. jake ate with one hand as he continued to drive, nearly fisting the breakfast sandwiches he had gotten. Jake and I both got coffees and the same breakfast sandwiches, a mcgrittle. we were practically twins at that point. I smiled at johnnie as he happily munched on his breakfast next to me. he smiled back.

by the time we were all done with our breakfast, we were about an hour out from the hotel. jake and tara switched seats since she offered to drive the rest of the way.

the rest of the drive was silent except for the soft music on the radio. I could tell we were all pretty tired from the long drive, and we'd all probably need a nap whenever we got to the hotel. to be fair, the coffee did wake up me and jake, though. honestly, nothing slaps like a good McDonald's coffee with extra creamer this early in the morning.

we had finally made it even earlier than we expected. I climbed out of the car and stretched, cracking my back before grabbing my things out of the car. Jake got the key card for the hotel while we unpacked the car, although there wasn't much to unpack. we brought all of our bags inside and made out way up to the hotel room.

the room was extremely nice. there were two beds, a large window with a beautiful overview of the city, and the usual hotel room accommodations.

I threw myself onto the bed I was claiming for Johnnie and i. I watched as jake filled the mini fridge with water bottles. we all took our concert outfits out of our bags so they wouldn't get wrinkled from staying cramped up for too much longer.

Jake and I ordered lunch from the hotel, although it was a pretty late lunch. the three of us started on our makeup, which influenced jake to actually do his own. he ended up smudging eyeliner in his waterline before calling it a day.

none of us changed into our outfits. we all sat on our respective beds and ate our lunch-dinner while watching some random ghost hunting show on the channel that was already on whenever I had turned on the TV.

before taking another bite, I spoke up. "are we going to leave as soon as we're ready so we don't have to wait in a long ass line to get inside?"

Jake gulped down what he was chewing. "That's what I was thinking, yeah." Tara and Johnnie agreed with him. 

after finishing our food 10 minutes later, we all got changed. I smoothed out my outfit in the mirror.

Johnnie came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. "you look great, baby." he smiled, planting a kiss on my cheek.

"thank you," I turned around, hooking my arms behind his neck and kissing his lips softly.

Tara's chunky shoes clumped down the hallway as we made our way to the elevator. "over here sounding like a fucking elephant, damn." jake teased her, gently shoving her shoulder.

she shoved him back harder. "shut up, they're cute!"

Johnnie gripped my hand, interlocking his fingers with mine. I scanned his whole body, admiring how good he looked in his outfit. fuck, he looked hot. I smirked slightly before turning away. a blush was painted across his face as he smiled.

Jake called the Uber as we waited out front of the hotel.

"why did you just now call it? why couldn't you have called the Uber when we were getting ready, it would've been here by now." I scolded, not actually caring, just wanting to complain and annoy jake.

"because I didn't know how long it'd take you ladies to get ready. don't act like I haven't heard the conspiracy theories about girls taking forever to get ready."

"conspiracy theories?" I repeated, "conspiracy theories is wild."

"well, they seem to be true." he crossed his arms, popping his hip out to the side.

"like you don't take 2 hours in the bathroom every morning playing with your hair." I retorted, looking around to see if the Uber was close.

"okay, well, that's different." he rolled his eyes.

"mhm, right."

the Uber arrived eventually. we all piled in the back, pretty much sitting on top of eachother. we were all buzzing with excitement, and we weren't even buzzed yet.

"I think my first goal when we get there is to get a drink," I admitted with a sly smile plastered across my face.

"I second that." Tara was fixing her makeup in her phone camera.

"me too." jake and Johnnie responded in the same tone at the same time.

the 20 minute drive to the stadium felt like a 20 year drive, but I knew that was just the excitement and eagerness getting to me.

whenever we arrived, it took us 30 minutes to get inside, which was much better than it could've been.

we wandered around the stadium, looking for a good bar that had been set up. we ran into 3 before finding one with a good menu compared to the other ones.

we hurriedly ordered our drinks and made our way to our 'seats,' although none of us would be sitting during the actual concert.

we were an hour and a half early, or at least an hour and a half early for the openers. I had high hopes for the concert, I mean, it was a rock, emo, whatever you wanna call it, concert after all.

I sat back in my seat, propping my feet up as I sipped on my drink. to say it was strong would be an understatement, even though I was far from a lightweight.

"wanna try a sip of mine?" johnnie offered, handing me his clear plastic cup.

I gratefully accepted, handing him mine in return. I hummed at the taste of his, "I think I like yours more."

"honestly, me too." he laughed. we ended up trading drinks.

tara took a video of the four of us. "holy shit, falling in reverse!" she screamed over the hundreds of other people in the stadium that were most likely saying the same shit. she ended up posting it on her story.

the openers came on with a bang. smoke covered the stage before a much smaller artist, I wasn't sure of the name, strutted onto the stage.

the crowd cheered, but not as loud as I knew it'd be whenever Ronnie came on.

the small band played 6 different songs, and they were all surprisingly good. they were more of a nu metal band compared to Falling in Reverse. I mean, I wasn't complaining.

the four of us spent majority of that time taking pictures for our Instagrams. I mean, obviously. what else would you expect?

Jake and I were on drink duty. we sped back to the pop up stand and ordered everyone the same drinks they had had before, except me and johnnies were flipped.

we made it back just in time for the openers last song. it was a bug finale, to say the least. the LED screen behind them flashed before everything went dark. the crowd roared with excitement.

we were left in the dark suspensully. i was practically shaking with excitement as i heard the low murmurs of the crowd. the LED screen turned to a dark red moments later.

finally, Ronnie walked out onto the stage with the rest of the band members following. everyone cheered and shouted as they came out on stage. johnnie and jake seemed over the moon with excitement. but, so were me and tara.

Ronnie greeted the crowd, earning a screaming mess of greetings back. he laughed before getting into the very first song.

of course, he had to open with one of his most popular songs, 'The Drug in Me is You.' I knew this song like the back of my hand, just like every other song by him.

I gripped johnnies hands, shaking him as I screamed the lyrics in his face. I was as dramatic as I could possibly get, and he returned the same energy.

Johnnie took out his phone and recorded a snippet of the first song before flipping the camera to us and pulling me in, kissing me on the lips before ending the recording. I knew his fans would eat that shit up whenever he posted it.

we went just as hard for the next few songs before another one of my favorites came on, 'Get Me Out.' I practically screeched whenever I heard the first few words of the song.

to say everyone's hair was a mess at this point in the concert would be an understatement. Me, Johnnie, jake, and tara were sweaty and dirty, but that didn't stop us in any way.

Johnnie gripped my waist tightly as we screamed the lyrics out into the crowd and towards eachother, our energy never fading.

there was a short intermission, which gave me and jake just enough time to run and grab more drinks. to be fair, all of us were pretty drunk at this point in the concert, but who was there to tell us no?

we scrambled back to our seats as we heard the drum rhythm for 'I'm not a Vampire' begin.

I could see johnnie singing the lyrics as he watched the performance on stage. since we were still a bit of a walk away, I took a picture. seeing him in the stadium lighting was heavenly, and he seemed so into the music, it just made for the perfect picture of him. I planned to set it as my lock screen as soon as we got back to the hotel.

there was not much different about the last few songs, except for the fact that I was exhausted and out of breath. I had a feeling I wouldn't have a voice in the morning, either.

as the last chord of the song rang throughout the stadium, Johnnie gripped my waist and kissed me passionately. I reciprocated, kissing him back with the same intensity. he pulled away, his eyes sparkling. "I love you."

my lower lip quivered as I couldn't help but smile. "I love you, too."

[minyard-05]

Golden Update

tag list: @kevinsdsy @ashestoashes7 @you-know-i-get-itt @thesunrisecourt @mostlyvoid-partiallyflowers @heartstringgs @mqmneee @millportisntreal @bsideheart

hi everybody!!! it's me, orpheus, author of this little fic that i didnt think would be anything and then part 1 ended up being almost 40k 😂. i started this on july 13th 2024, and now it's exactly 8 months later (YIKES) so now's as good a time as any to post this

i just wanted to give you all a heads up because i'm making some changes to how this whole project is going to be structured moving forward. the plan to cover aaron's entire life from age 13 up until his trial [possibly his 21st birthday] is very much still in place but as you can see this is a series now!! that's because i have some smaller pieces/oneshots some of which belong in the Golden universe but aren't from aaron's perspective (e.g my sebastian moore oneshot thats currently the only other thing in this series lol)

additionally, i want to also make sure that in case i can't finish it for whatever reason, i'll still be able to end the project in a good ending place rather than potentially leaving cliffhangers. so you also may have noticed that this fic, Golden, has ended. 12/12 chapters, we're DONE.

....except aaron's still 13. so what i'm doing is dividing his life into about 6 seperate timeslots, each of which will have their own fic covering it. this was obviously the California section, next we'll have Columbia and aaron's time in highschool, then his freshman year of college, and his sophomore year, which will most likely all be split up into Foxhole Court, Raven King, and King's Men, a la the canon trilogy.

this is going to make it a lot easier for me to navigate my own work, and will also help you guys as readers because you can jump in to any part of the story and just read what you want to. if you have notifications on for this fic, i'd recommend turning them on for the series as well, that way you'll get email updates about everything. my tumblr tag list will remain the same unless anybody asks to be added/removed.

that just about covers everything, if you have any questions then let me know, and finally THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!!!! this fic has been such a fun ride for me i love aaron i love writing about him and creating all of these intricate little details about his life while i have creative liberty to do whatever i want with him lmao. to everybody's who's been here since day one, i love you all so much you've been absolutely amazing to write for, i have read every single comment on this fic and loved every single one. thank you one million times over for reading and sticking with me despite my inconsistent posting

it means the world that so many of you have loved reading this fic as much as i have loved writing it, i hope you'll join me for the next installment and i hope i can do both aaron and you justice <33333

thank you again and tune in next time for Columbia and (groan) high school, in Twilight.

love, orpheus :P

PS: if you've read Golden and you haven't read my lovely friend gia's EXCEPTIONAL sebastian & aaron fic then u are wasting your time!!! go give it a read it's fantastic and i couldntve asked for a better gift <33

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62627260

[callmearcturus]

need formatting advice

okay i am actually gonna share the extensively tidied up introduction i wrote for the AU in which Ted is a director who works with producer Rebecca and is bound and determined to be the guy who gets to adapt the first book his favorite author has ever sold the rights to.

I'm sharing specifically because I want to include a Reference Guide at the end of each chapter but I am struggling with how to do this bit. I need opinions.

so, lengthy preview under the cut:

.

If asked what was the first work of Trent Crimm's he'd read, Theodore Lasso would have incorrectly answered An Aquarian Guide to Atlantis, IL.

When it happened, Ted had been living in London for four months with no end date in sight. If everything went well. there wouldn't be an end date.

He knew that Rebecca Welton was his golden ticket. She was the owner of the new Greyhound Productions, a development house funded largely by her own money after she'd survived a nasty divorce from media magnate Rupert Mannion.

Ted had met her by happenstance. Before her divorce was finalized, Rebecca was acting as executive producer for a limited run series with HBO, back when everyone was burning money for the chance of making something that'd be the Must See TV that drew in a million subscribers.

Money was plentiful, but time and patience were not, so when director George Cartrick got a DUI that slowed filming and was bad press besides, he was kicked from the whole show.

Four episodes needed a new director. Ted managed to get in for two of them. Mostly, he was hoping to calm the turbulent production and make a few connections that might lead to another, more stable gig.

Instead, Rebecca had asked Ted to stay and cover the other two episodes that Cartrick had left in the wind.

Before Ted caught up with what was happening, he was the man behind the monitor for seven of the ten episodes. A few months later, he was standing on stage next to Rebecca for her first BAFTA win.

Later, after the Golden Globe for Best Limited Series was standing in the middle of their table, Rebecca cheated her chair towards Ted and asked him if he was interested in moving to London. "Just for a bit," she lied to him airily, sipping her champagne. "It'd just be easier to discuss projects without the seven hour time difference."

Which was how Ted found himself here, four months into his stay in London. Rebecca had evolved from emailing him pitch decks and scheduling meetings to go over scripts. Now, she simply showed up at his flat, two stops away from Pinewood Studios, to stand in his kitchen. She flicked through printed teleplays, reading aloud dialogue and stage directions she found particularly inspiring.

All of it seemed, pardon the bit of flip, kind of crazy.

But Ted understood why.

When he and Rebecca stood shoulder-to-shoulder, reviewing dailies, he felt it. It was the spiritual equivalent of a storyboard exercise; hand Ted and Rebecca the same two pages, ask them to sketch a few thumbnails, and the two of them would hand in the exact same result.

This was how Ted knew the human soul existed. Not because he was aware of his own, but because he felt Rebecca's when they were both looking at the same monitor.

He was quite certain he'd never find this with another person, and yet here he was, screwing it up. Rebecca was lining up potential projects and Ted was blowing it with morose day-drinking.

Before Rebecca could realize she'd put her faith in the wrong fella, Willis stopped by one late afternoon to hand Ted a book. "Just finished it. Reminds me a bit of home. You should try it," was all the man said before tipping the brim of his hat and leaving.

The book did not fix Ted. It didn't cure his homesickness. But it got him to admit to Rebecca he was struggling with the move and to finally see the most discrete therapist she could locate for him. It kept him from ruining his life for the second time.

An Aquarian Guide to Atlantis, IL lived in Ted's backpack from that day forth. He read it over and over, dog-earing the pages he needed the most, each one a perfect inoculation against the darkness he felt he was always trying to outrun.

When his and Rebecca's first film reached picture lock and they had to start promoting it, Crimm's second book was joined by his debut novel in Ted's bag.

As he read The Sarpedon EP, 1968 on a plane to Los Angeles, flying over what Ted considered the best parts of America, he realized he'd never given Beard back his copy of Atlantis, IL. Handing back a loaned item that you'd thoroughly beaten to hell was unacceptable best friend behavior, so between meetings and press junket events, Ted carved out time to make a pilgrimage to The Last Bookstore.

There was a new limited edition of Atlantis, IL. It was a gorgeous hardcover with even more ergodic weirdness shoved in, with flourishes lifted right out of an old Rand McNally, detailing all of the vital details of Crimm's fictional Illinois Route Θ.

Ted grabbed two of them, just in case there was never a reprint. It wasn't as pocketable as Ted's (Beard's) paperback, but it'd look great on the coffee table.

At the check-out, Ted skimmed over the list of upcoming author events The Last Bookstore was hosting. "Say, you know if y'all've ever hosted Trent Crimm?" he asked the check-out lady.

She snorted softly. "Not for lack of trying. He's got another one coming out soonish, but every request has been declined. He's one of the reclusive types, I think."

That was a damn shame, but: "He's got another book on the way?"

On Ted's birthday, Rebecca handed Ted an advanced copy of The Tides of Static with a cheap ribbon bow taped to the cover. It was plain, just the title of the book and disclaimers like "COVER TO COME" and "ADVANCED UNCORRECTED PROOF SUBJECT TO CHANGE."

The unfinished state never bothered Ted. Every time he figured out a reference in the book, he jotted out the name of the band or album or song in the matte white space on the cover.

By the time Tides was actually published, Ted knew it so well, he could tell which sections had been touched up and rewritten. The last chapter was unchanged, and that's all Ted cared about. Everyone deserved to experience the same big reveal he had.

Ted liked Sarpedon and he loved Tides, but it was Atlantis, IL that lived with him. He'd misplaced his house keys and his phone more than he'd misplaced Atlantis, IL, the same compact paperback Beard had given him years ago. By now, Ted had cracked the spine so many times, he'd employed a generous application clear packing tape to reinforce the binding.

It was his favorite book, until Paris of the Plains by Trent Crimm debuted at number one on the NYT bestseller list despite the mixed reviews.

Honestly, Ted had never more felt the urge to try to change people's opinions about a book. Clearly they hadn't gotten it, but as someone who grew up in the Kansas City area, Ted understood the book more than they did.

Smothering corrective instinct, Ted instead decided it was fine that Paris didn't hit for everyone. When Rebecca innocently brought it up, she asked, "Is it really his worst book? I imagine you're the closest thing to an expert."

"Just a big fan, not an expert," Ted self-consciously deflected. "But way I see it, it ain't everyone's cup of tea 'cause it's my mug of coffee. I think it's a real brave move of the author to write a book specifically for me. Kind of him to publish it for other folks to read too."

"Oh, okay," Rebecca said, rolling her eyes. "Well, I'm glad you're enjoying it. How far are you into it?"

"About halfway through my second read."

Her lips parted in perfect surprise for a beat before she asked, "Did you pull strings to get another ARC?"

"No, ma'am," he said, smiling. "Got my copy the old fashioned way: midnight release at Waterstones. Finished it 'round five AM."

"Christ, I should have just preemptively given you the day off," she muttered.

REFERENCE GUIDE:

"Aquarian Guide" is a reference to The Aquarian Guide to Occult, Mystical, Religious, Magical London and Around (1970) which somehow wound up in my local library. It's essentially a listing of new age/occult businesses and societies and quilting groups with details on where each one meets and how to inquire. Like a yellow pages for weirdos. I would highly rec flipping through it if you ever get the chance just for how fascinating it is. However: It's incredibly dated and cringe-worthy in it's Orientalism and white people hijacking the spiritual touchstones of brown folks.

Pinewood Studios is the London answer to Hollywood and is where a lot of films and TV shows get made.

"Picture lock" is the state of a movie when editing is completely done. It's an extremely important milestone because it allows all the post-production people (music, effects, sound, ADR, etc) to do their work knowing the film will not be changed again.

Illinois Route Θ is an unsubtle nod to the video game Kentucky Route 0.

The Last Bookstore is a real place in LA, multifloor, huge, sprawling. It's one of those bookstores that doesn't feel like it should exist in reality.

Rand McNally was the publisher of road atlases in the US. In the time before the ubiquity of GPS and before MapQuest (let alone Google Maps) you needed a Rand McNally atlas in the glove box to navigate unfamiliar roads. Imagine trying to get from South Florida to Tallahassee up in the bootheel and going, "Well, Jacksonville is also in North Florida, I'll follow the roads there," only to discover you've tacked 4 hours onto your drive-time because you should have cut across Alligator Alley first to I-75 instead of taking I-95. That's why you needed a Rand McNally.

"Paris of the Plains" is a nickname for Kansas City, MO.

For reference, Trent Crimm's novels are (in order): The Sarpedon EP, 1986 An Aquarian Guide to Atlantis, IL The Tides of Static Paris of the Plains I will never tell you publication dates because the timeline of this story is fairly important and knowing me, I'll probably fuck it up.

okay so that's the reference guide to JUST THE SET-UP INTRO to the story.

I got a few ideas of how to handle this:

Just put them in the Author's Note and don't worry about it.

I believe the AO3 has a way to make a 'cut'/'read more'. I've seen people use it to hide content warnings for the people who don't want to see them while also allowing the folks who do to click thru.

I want to just have a 'final chapter' of the fic as a constantly updating Reference Guide, so all of the explanations are in one place. Downside of this is people would have to have two tabs open-- yeah this would not work on mobile, full stop. Dammit.

There USED to be a custom work page trick that allowed tooltips to be embedded into text. An old friend used this to include cheeky little translations of non-English dialogue if you hovered over the line. SAME PROBLEM: not viable in mobile.

I have considered the footnote jump point that Discworld/Good Omens AO3 fans have refined, which lets you tap the little superscript number to jump to the place where the reference is explained. That, to me, demands the entire story be built around the footnotes, and that's not what the story is about. My intent here is to show density, not to ever put a comedic or emotional punchline into the footnote.

Is there anything I've forgotten? Does this matter to anyone but me?

[mlm-writer]

Home (Peter Parker x GN!Reader)

Pairing:  Peter Parker (TASM) x Gender Neutral Reader Rating: General Audiences (except for one swear word) Words: 1652 POV: Second Summary: The Big Tober Day 2 - Love Confession Tags: college AU, you're both studying mechanical engineering, Peter is a genius, you're just ken, fluff, kinda cheesy and kissing

It’s always something. You can never have a normal exam week, where you just spend your days in the library surrounded by fellow students, mutually fuelled by caffeine and stress. Supervillain of the week literally burned down the public library and there was an alien spacecraft that crashed into your favourite café. It felt like you still had a million chapters to read and another five thousand words to write for an essay and not to forget that your stupid project partner still has not even opened the Google Slides link you sent them. 

A long sigh, mixed with a frustrated growl left you as you once again couldn’t find a single spot on campus to sit down and study. It was always crowded like this during exam week. If you wanted a good spot, you better come to campus at 6:30am, but who had the energy for that? Fortunately for you, there was a small pebble on the road that led through the fields of yellowed grass between the main building and the main gate. You kicked it as hard as you could, letting all your woes leave you through your foot and into that little rock. It flew forward and - unexpectedly - up. “Oh shit!” You exclaimed as you followed its trajectory with your eyes. It was going straight for someone’s head, but before you could tell the brunet to watch out, he turned around and caught the pebble midair. 

When he was turned around, you recognised him. Out of all people for that pebble to almost hit, it just had to be your crush. “Peter!” You called out to him as you jogged over. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to kick it your way… good catch by the way.” 

Peter held the pebble in his fist and smiled at you; he was so cute when he did that. “Oh hey!” He beamed at you. When you complimented his catch, he hid his hands behind him and avoided eye contact. “Thanks, I got uh… good reflexes.” He cleared his throat and then looked at you. “Already done with studying for the day?”

You let out another frustrated sigh. “Ha! I wish. I came here to study, but it is fuller than a Blackpink concert stadium here. Guess I’ll have to settle for my tiny desk in my shoe-box dorm room.” 

Peter snorted at your comparison. He seemed to want to say something, but he was hesitant about it. “Uh…” You raised your brows at him, awaiting his words. “I just uh… finished my final presentation for the thermodynamics course-”

“Oh how did that go?” “Got an A, but that’s not important-”

“Not important? Bro, you’re kidding, that's great!”

Peter was getting a little red. You liked how humble he was in spite of how smart he was. He was a little awkward, but during presentations, he often had his own flavour of charisma that made you listen instantly. He was good on the eyes too…

“Uhm, thank you… what I wanted to say is uh… I’m going home now to study. My aunt won’t be home until late and you’re free to join me at my dinner table - to study, I mean, but you’re welcome to join for dinner too of course!” 

You kept forgetting Peter still doesn’t live on his own. Sometimes you envied him, sometimes you were happy with your freedom. “Are you sure? That’d be really cool. Studying together is way more fun than on my own anyway. Oh, do you maybe have notes for our material science course that I could borrow?” 

A little later those notes were in front of you as you were seated at Peter’s dinner table. You had never been in his home before, but the Earthy tones and natural lights just made it feel like a home. There was love in the pictures that decorated the place, there was personality in the old books that scattered the house, one of a shelf on the wall, another one next to a vase with flowers, another on the side table by the couch… 

“Here you go!” Peter put a glass of juice next to you. You thanked him with a smile. You did not realise how your warm smile fit right in that room, how it made Peter’s heart leap and his stomach flip upside down. He just sat down across from you like there was nothing going on. 

You managed to concentrate for a good half hour, but after that your eyes drifted up and caught onto a sight that was way better than a schematic drawing of how tension affects different materials. Peter had this cute frown of concentration on his face, a pencil balancing between his lips as he typed something up on his laptop. He abruptly paused and looked straight at you. The change was so sudden; your eyes widened, before you forced them back onto Peter’s notes. Your face felt hot. Peter definitely caught you staring and you had no idea what he thought of it. Did he suspect you fantasised about kissing him whenever he info-dumped on you? Did he know how his smile could light up your whole day? Did he have a clue or was he just that oblivious? Most smart people were.

Suddenly, Peter let his head fall onto the dinner table. “I can’t do this anymore!” He exclaimed. You gave him a worried look, not that he saw it with his face planted in his notes. 

“Wow, I didn’t know even the genius Peter Parker suffered from exam breakdown,” you commented. You genuinely thought Peter thought exams were a breeze. His grades were all exemplary, except that one time he was down with the flu so bad, you didn’t see him for three weeks. 

“That’s not it! I’m-” he lifted his head. He was clearly upset, but as he rose from his seat to walk back and forth along the kitchen counters, he couldn’t put a single sentence together. He had paced the length of his kitchen at least five times, before he spoke up again. “This is so not how I envisioned this going, but I feel like I am gonna burst if I don’t say this now!” He walked over to you and, in an incredible display of strength, turned your chair with you on it to face away from the table. His arms were caging you, holding the back of the old, wooden furniture. “I’m so in love with you and…” He seemed to realise what he said and physically backed up until his back was against the wall. 

You didn’t know what to say. It was hard to believe your ears. You just stared at him in shock as Peter did that thing you adored so much – rattling on like someone who did not prepare enough text to fill up their 30-minutes presentation. “And I don’t need you to feel the same, sorry, that was coming off a little strong, but I mean it. It’s like I’m in pain when I’m around you and I can’t hold you. Wait no that’s cheesy. Is it? I don’t even know, you make me wanna say cheesy stuff!” Peter was suddenly very interested in the couch in the living room, his eyes never leaving it as more words poured uncontrollably from his mouth. “When you look at me all my instincts are telling me you feel the same, but it could be wishful thinking, but I am so sure, but what if I’m wrong, I mean if I AM wrong, then that’s fine, I just…” 

You stood up. Peter immediately shut up, eyes shifting to the floor. He looked like a child caught with his fingers in the cookie jar. You took a deep breath to settle your nerves and then closed the distance quickly, putting one hand on the wall behind Peter. Your classmate froze up and you wanted to relieve him of his nerves, but you had your own that clogged up your throat and wound your vocal cords tight like a scrunchie holding a very heavy ponytail. “Whenever you talk, I never want you to shut up, but when I look at your lips moving, I cannot think about anything but making you shut up with my own.” 

Peter looked up, glistening eyes pulling you in. You were scanning each other’s faces, both scared this was all just some prank or a dream. “I’m going to ruin this moment by talking about material science if you don’t shut me up right now,” he almost whispered. You chuckled and put an arm around him, pulling him against you until your lips met. It was like coming home, like hot chocolate in winter, like a cosy blanket by the window on a rainy day. 

Your lips touched like they were meant to do so from day one. It was your first kiss together and yet it felt like you had been doing this for ages. Your whole body felt like it was going haywire and the look in Peter’s eyes when you parted did not help. Neither of you said anything, kissing in the kitchen over and over again, as if you were memorising each other’s taste, while you should be memorising that schematic you still had open on your laptop. 

When you finally found it in you to take a step back from Peter, you were both smiling giddily at each other. You broke the silence between you two, before Peter did. “All jokes aside, I actually do need you to talk to me about material science. I think I’ll be much more concentrated when you explain it.” 

Peter let out a chuckle. “Ok, but when exams are over, you are buying me dinner.” 

You slowly walked back to your chair. “I’ll even throw in a movie as well,” you replied, suddenly feeling a lot better about your exams. 

—————

REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR FANFIC WRITERS

Likes do not help exposure! A comment in tags or replies can sustain a writer for months!

[wewereborntomakehistory]

How Do I Do This?

Fandom: Chicago PD/One Chicago

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Female!Reader; Kelly Severide x Platonic!Reader; Stella Kidd x Platonic!Reader

Warning/s: Mentions of Divorce, Anxiety and Alcohol Consumption

Request: No

Word Count: 979

A/N: This is based off of the song, How do I do This? by Kelsea Ballerini. You don’t need to listen to the song to get this by any means but I recommend you do! It’s a song that’s been on my mind for a while and I just love Kelsea’s music as a whole! It got a little away from me so apologies for that! I’m also still working on requests and some more chapters of my Jay Halstead fic so please be patient with me.

Enjoy!

***

Are you free Saturday? I know a spot

Those two texts come in rapid succession as you finish cleaning the store up. You’d usually try to avoid checking your phone so often in front of your manager, but by this time you were usually the only one left.

What did you have in mind?

You erase the message in-between organizing the new book shipment.

Saturday? That’s a little too close for me.

You erase that message while balancing the books for that day.

By the time you lock up the store and head home, you had thought up a couple million ways to respond before erasing them. Putting your key in the lock and you finally respond with a simple Yes.

Your next thought was right before you slid into bed for the night. Where the hell is your dress?

Specifically, your little black one that showed off all of your curves. The one that was probably lonely from being unused for so many years.

Having split from your husband over a year ago and trying to start fresh back in Chicago, you were worrying yourself into a spiral. You hadn’t been on a date since you were 22 and you were feeling out of place, getting back into the dating scene at 29.

You and your ex had grown apart from the moment your marriage started. You had done everything you could to keep everything together. You—being the one who made more money—had bought a big house. One that had room for you two to grow a family and have a backyard for a dog. It felt right at the time, maybe it would be enough so the walls didn’t seem like they were closing in.

You and your ex had been fine. But that’s all you were…fine. You finally convinced him to do therapy with you and, unfortunately, the final straw for you was when you realized that he loved you more at 23, then at 27.

You had filed for divorce not long after that. He claimed he hadn’t seen it coming, and fought you for the house. You gave into it, wanting him to just sign the papers and be done with it. In the end, when you signed your lease back in your home city of Chicago you finally checked the box “divorced.”

It had been quite the change, getting used to being back in the city. You contacted one of your oldest friends, Kelly Severide, to hang out and catch up.

It was at one of those meet ups that you met Kelly’s girlfriend, Stella Kidd, and the two of you hit it off instantly.

Now a year later, Stella and Kelly were getting ready to get married, and you voiced your thoughts to them about dating again. Stella said that she had a friend who was your type.

You had no idea what that meant, but after a few failed attempts at signing up for one of those awful dating apps, you gave Stella permission for her to give her friend your number.

The day after the first two texts were sent, he texted you again saying: Great! I’ll pick you up at 7.

You remembered at 22 being a little more cautious about a man picking you up for a date, but you trusted Kelly and Stella so you tried trusting this guy too.

It was hard, everything you’ve ever known about dating, relationships, and love had been ruined with the breakdown of your marriage. Now you wished it wasn’t affecting your thoughts this long after.

So is it any wonder that it’s 6:52 on Saturday and you’re trying to reassure yourself by saying you got this during your last looks in the mirror.

“You’ll be fine,” Kelly was saying over the speakerphone as you contemplated taking a shot to calm your nerves, “Do you think we don’t have your best interest at heart?”

“Kelly,” you say plainly, “It’s been years since I’ve been on a date. I’m gonna look so stupid stumbling over myself and what if he brings up my marriage? You told him about that right? How do I fucking do this? Is it wrong if I take a shot of something?”

“Stella,” you hear Kelly call from his end, obviously feeling like he needed backup, “she’s freaking out.”

“Yes I am.” You almost growl in confirmation, “I blame you both for this. What was I thinking?”

“Relax, girl,” Stella’s voice says over the line in a reassuring tone, “I got you. Look, I’ve known Jay for a while okay, and I’m sure you’ll charm the socks off of him.”

“Oh god,” you say, slapping a hand to your forehead almost dramatically, “I know he’s too good to be true. What have you done, Stella.”

“Breathe, Y/N,” Kelly says, his voice clear and unyielding.

There was a knock on the door. You jump slightly, looking up at the clock on the stove. 7:00 on the dot.

You curse, telling Kelly and Stella that he was there. They told you to have fun and they’ll call you later for details before immediately hanging up on you.

Cursing your friends once more, you open the door, and your breath lapses. You were going to kill Stella for understating his looks by saying he was “good-looking”.

He was much more than good-looking. He was gorgeous. His dark hair was cut evenly. His eyes were a mix of blue and green and freckles littered across his features. He was dressed for a date, his outfit lining the structures of his body. You feel slightly better about choosing your black dress for this, you may even want to wake up tomorrow with it on a floor that isn’t yours.

I’m ready, you tell yourself in your head.

And for the first time since this whole thing started, you believe it.

[spicywhenspeaking]

Star-Crossed Connection: chapter two

Nick Folio x Original Female Character

WC: 3k

masterpost

this is a complete work of fiction, some characters while based on real people are totally made up. :)

Seraphina Holloway is Hollywood’s new it girl. But, when an embarrassing viral video of her ex / costar publicly dumping her goes viral, she thinks she needs a quick fix to help maintain her image. When she’s set to appear at her new movies premier she scrambles to find a date to bring that will help take the white hot spotlight away from her public dumping and show that she’s still desirable to all. Enter Nick Folio, drummer of the metalcore band that’s taking over the scene, Bad Omens. He’s a sweet down to earth guy with a heart of gold and when a smokin hot movie star asks him to be her fake boyfriend for a week he agrees to help. But will the line between fake feelings and reals ones start to blur when Seraphina lets her true self show.

Taglist: @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @to-be-written @bngurngheart @jessicafg03 @knivesforapr0 @thatchickwiththecamera @somewhere-diamond @sorrowsofsilence @malerieee @dsireland86 @collapsedglasshouses @jilliemiw86 @samanthasgone -> tags are open !

A few days later I’m finalizing my festival outfits with my stylist. The photos the paparazzi took were splashed all over the tabloids and drama blogs the day after they found Folio and I were ambushed on our date. 

My plan worked like a charm. Every article or blog post was gushing over me and my newfound love. It was almost too easy to sway the public perception. All it took was a few perfectly timed photos of a new hot guy shielding me from the onslaught of flashes and pestering questions from pathetic men who have nothing better to do than follow girls like me around day and night trying to get a million-dollar photo. 

Looking into the 360 mirror I admire the beautiful black one-strapped ball gown my stylist picked out for the movie premiere. “It’s lovely, this was an amazing find, Lala. Did you find any cute stuff for skiing?” Lala smiles and pulls out another rack of clothes with several snowsuits in all different colors. I decide to try on the pink one and the all-white one. 

“I’ll take both of these they’re so hot, so all that’s left is a few choices for the press junket and I’ll look through some of the options you brought for my date.” I move to look through the outfits she’s picked out for folio and choose a black Armani tux and full black snowsuit along with some jewelry that one of my brand deals has sent. “These are perfect, he is going to look so hot,” I say finishing up and choosing a few more accessories from the table. I grab several rings, necklaces and a few different bags. “So things are getting serious between you and this new guy?” Lala asks and I put on my sweetest lovesick smile, “Oh yeah, he’s great. The perfect guy for me. Nothing like the egomaniac actors I usually date. He’s so real.” I answer, fighting the internal ripple of shame that overwhelms me. Folio and I have been texting back and forth since our paparazzi fiasco and he really is a nice guy. I’m a massive asshole for using him like this but it’s just a week and then I can say something about how it was a mutual decision because both of our careers are so hectic. 

Just then my phone pings with a new message 

Nicky F 🏍️❤️‍🔥: TMZ is blowing up my phone about those pics, what should I say?

Seraphina 👑: you can tell them no comment. Or ignore it, it’s up to you! I’m sorry they’re bothering you, I figured they would just bombard me. 

Nicky F 🏍️❤️‍🔥: No worries sweetheart, you can’t control the crazies that follow you around. 

Damn, I fucking suck. I should just be honest with him. It’ll definitely make it easier if he’s in on my plan. 

Well, I’ll explain it all on the plane when we leave in a couple of days and if he decides just to turn around and go back home I will totally understand. It’ll totally ruin my plan and I’ll look even more of a loser but I can’t just keep lying to him about everything. 

I don’t have any plans for the rest of the day so I decide to head home and rot on my couch. While I’m rewatching Gossip Girl for the millionth time on my couch I get a surprising call from a certain motorcycle-driving drummer. I answer it and am surprised by the smile that spreads across my face at the idea of talking to him. 

Hey Folio! 

Hey sweetheart are you busy? 

Um no, just watching TV what’s up?

Are you up for a ride up the coast to watch the sunset? I know a place.

That sounds great! I can be ready in 20. I’ll text you my address. 

Okay, I’ll head over soon. 

Okay! Bye!

Alright, looking forward to it sweetheart. 

Thirty minutes later I hear the hum of a motorcycle from outside and get a text from Folio that he just pulled up. I run out of my front door wearing my black levis with a plain white tee under my cropped black hoodie. “Hey!” I call out over the sound of the motor. “Hey!” he responds quickly hopping off the bike to wrap his arms around me in a quick hug. “You ready to get out of here?” he asks and I nod enthusiastically “Yes, I’m excited!” 

He climbs back over and I throw my leg over the side behind him and wrap my arms around his waist as he starts up the bike again. “Hold on tight sweetheart” he drawls out as he turns out of the driveway and down the road. 

“I’m taking you to a spot near Malibu that’s beautiful at sunset,” he says over the sound of the roaring motor. 

It takes over an hour to get to the beach, the sun is low but there are still maybe 10 minutes left before it’s fully set. We park and Folio grabs a blanket from a storage trunk on the side of his bike. We walk hand-in-hand to a spot with little foot traffic. He unfolds it, it’s thick, hand-woven, and dark red. It’s large and looks big enough for us to both sit comfortably off of the sand. He spreads it out on the ground so we can sit and watch the sun take its last moments before dipping below the horizon. 

“So, Phi, can I call you Phi?” he asks softly as his gaze slides from the sunset to me. I nod softly as he continues, the orange light of the sun covering him in a warm glow. “so Phi, I want to help you with this whole festival thing, but can you give me some information about what I might expect? Will the paparazzi be around every corner? Or is that only when you give them a heads up where you’ll be?”  

I try and fail to hide the embarrassment and shock that’s written all over my face. “What- what do you mean? Heads up? What do you even mean?- I” his unamused face is all it takes for me to drop the act. I had said to myself I wanted to be honest with him but I guess I didn’t anticipate getting caught. “I’m sorry,” I say with a sigh, “how did you know?”

He laughs softly and tosses a rock he found on the other side of the blanket towards the crashing waves. “I had a hunch, and a photographer friend of mine may have given me a heads up.” He arches a brow at me, waiting for my reply.

“I was going to tell you, I swear. I know that doesn’t mean anything now but-“ I look up as the sun finally disappears, leaving the sky a beautiful orange and pink. “I didn’t want to keep lying to you. I know we’re practically strangers and for some reason, you’ve agreed to help me with this absurd plan, but from now on I promise I will keep you informed on all of the things I can control” I turn to face him, prepared for him to either tell me the plan is off or by some miracle bless me with forgiveness. 

“You know, we could’ve given them way more of a show if I had known” he laughs and the tension I was holding between my shoulders drops. “I don’t really understand your world or how it works but if you teach me I’m happy to play along,” he says and it feels so sincere, I almost wish this was real, but he’s right, he’s just playing along. 

“I think I’ve just let this whole situation get to me too much, I mean look at me, asking some stranger to pretend to be my boyfriend because I’m too--well, it doesn’t matter. I just, all I’ve ever wanted was to act and my parents did everything to help me get to this point. I can’t help but think of how ashamed my dad would be to see me now” 

Folio bumps lightly into my shoulder before throwing his arm around me and pulling me closer into his side. “Strangers? I don’t think so, but there’s definitely more I want to learn about you Phi. I don’t think he’d be ashamed at all.”  He says as he rests his head on the top of mine while we watch the final colors of the day disappear and the darkness of night blanket the sky. “What are you doing tomorrow?” 

“Just final packing for the trip, didn’t have much of anything planned,” I answer. 

He takes a moment to think before he speaks again, “What if instead of flying to Colorado we rent a car and drive to Colorado together? It’s only a 14-hour drive. It will give us time to get to know each other better and since it’s a rental we can just fly home at the end of the week. What do you think?” He asks gaze still fixed on the horizon. 

Humming in thought I consider his proposition. “You want to road trip to Colorado? I guess I could get a last-minute rental, we’d need to leave tomorrow though, you can be prepared for that?”

He huffs out a laugh, “Yeah, I can pack pretty fast.” I laugh as well at the absurdity of the way this is all turning out. But it sounds like it will be a fun adventure. We spend a bit longer on the beach making idle conversation. I was able to work out a rather quick rental agreement thanks to my brand deal with Hertz and I sent a quick text to my assistant that I would be traveling up a day early. She and my glam team are going to meet us at the resort. “Well, your spontaneity has worked out in our favor. I have the car teed up to be sent to my house at 7 am. I can pick you up after and we can head out.” He excitedly agrees to the plans and even offers to just meet at my house, as long as he can park his bike there while we are gone. 

After Folio drops me off later that evening I rush around to pack a quick bag. Jules, my assistant, has already arranged for my clothes to be sent to my hotel room at the festival so I just need to pack a few essentials into my suitcase, my daily makeup and toiletries along with my loungewear and casual clothes. It’s already late and I’m exhausted by the time my head hits the pillow so sleep overtakes me quickly.

I’m awoken by the sound of my alarm going off at 6:30 am and I find myself feeling excited about the prospects of the day despite the early hour, especially after getting way less sleep than usual. No worries though, nothing a little coffee can’t fix. I throw on a comfortable outfit for a long car ride and begin making my first coffee of the day. Around 6:50 am I received the text that the car was here so I run out to accept the key and sign the final paperwork. 

“Oh shit! You’re Seraphina Holloway! I’m a huge fan, your show on MTV was amazing! I can’t believe they canceled it!” the guy who dropped off the car said with a huge smile spread across his face. “Haha thank you! I loved being on that show it was such a fun time! I’m glad you liked it!” I reply. He leaves with a giddy smile and waves excitedly as he pulls away in the car that followed him in with the rental. I ended up with a black 2024 Chevy Tahoe and it looks so cool. 

I am bringing out my bag to load into the trunk when I hear the rumble of Folio’s bike coming up the road as he turns the corner up my driveway I can’t help the goofy smile I give him, I almost feel self-conscious about how happy I am to see him until he whips his helmet off and is wearing a matching smile of his own. “Mornin’ Phi, how are ya feeling?” he asks while hanging his helmet off of the handles of his bike. He walks over to wraps his arms around me in a big hug. “Hey Nicky, I’m feeling great! I’m excited about the road trip. How are you?”

He sides my bag onto his shoulder and gestures for me to unlock the trunk. “I’m feeling great sweetheart. I’m excited as well! I hope you’re prepared for a killer playlist.” 

“Oh you’re on! We will see who’s musical prowess puts who on top.” I jokingly tease. He laughs and puts the rest of his things in the car along with my bag. 

I invite him inside while I finish locking up, I offer Folio a coffee and he accepts thankfully. “Oh my god yes please, my roommates drank the last of the creamer and I cannot drink black coffee.” I laugh as I make us two fresh vanilla iced lattes for the road.

Heading towards the car I offer to drive the first leg. Nicky tried to offer to drive the whole thing but I can’t allow that. Plus splitting it up will help it go by faster. 

“Alright! Let’s hit the road, Nicky! Next stop Colorado baby!!!” I pump my fists in celebration and before I can feel the embarrassment of the action take over he’s pumping his fists as well “WooHoo! Hell yeah! Lets gooo!” he calls out and I can’t help the joyus laugh that takes over as we back out and talk off down the road. My phone is connected to the carplay so I have control over the first music rotation. “Alright, this is my time to shine. For your consideration.” I say before hitting shuffle on my road trip playlist.

It starts off with playing Panama by Van Halen. “oh shit! Starting it off strong with Van Halen. You are more than meets the eye Hollywood.” 

I laugh with my whole body, “Not what you expected huh? My dad used to quiz me on car rides, I was raised on classic rock.” 

jump back, what's that sound ? 

Here she comes, full blast and top down. 

Hot shoe, burnin' down the avenue. 

Model citizen zero discipline 

Don't you know she's coming home with me? 

You'l lose her in the turn. 

I'll get her!

“Panama, Panama Panama, Panama Ain't nothin' like it, her shiny machine. Got the feel for the wheel, keep the moving parts clean.” we sing along together. 

When the song finishes and “Go Your Own Way” starts next. “So I found this list of questions to get to know each other better on the road,” Folio says. “So, starting off easy, what are your three favorite movies?” 

“Oh crap, oh my god? Easy?? Okay….three favorite movies are Pride and Prejudice from 2005, Pacific Rim but NOT the sequel and oh god, um I’ll say Secret World of Arrietty, which is a Studio Ghibli. What about you?” I ask.

“Okay I love Pacific Rim so I trust you and will be watching the other that you mentioned. I like Star Wars Empire Strikes Back, Kill Bill, and the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre.” 

“I love horror movies! And omg okay nerd of course you would say the name of the episode instead of just Star Wars.” I joke and he laughs. “alright alright, it’s an important distinction. Real fans know what’s up. Okay, next question, what is your favorite photo?”

I think for a moment about all the pictures I’ve ever taken and am hit with a beautiful memory, “there was a summer my family took a vacation to the Florida coast and my cousins and I started a sand castle competition. I built a huge three-story sand mansion. My dad helped me get the towers just right. My mom took a picture of us right as a tower fell,” I laugh softly, “my dad and I are laughing hysterically as it falls, I didn’t even care about winning I was just having fun with my dad.” 

I turn my eyes off the road for a quick moment to look over at Nicky and he’s smiling thoughtfully. “That’s beautiful Phi, sounds like it was a great trip.”

“Oh god no, our hotel was infested with fleas, and my dad’s credit card got stolen on the second day, but those hours on the beach made it all worth it. Okay your turn, favorite picture.” 

Folio opens his phone and scrolls through rows of photos until he finally lands on one, “this one is for sure on of my favorites.” I look quickly and it’s a photo of him and the other guys from his band all grouped together with huge grins on their faces, almost like they’re laughing. “It was after the first concert of our first tour, I was the happiest I had ever been and when I knew that I’d do anything to make this dream come true with those guys.”

“That’s amazing Nicky, and you guys did it! That’s amazing.” 

We continue our game of a million questions for a few more hours of the drive while listening to music in the background. One question leads to more conversations and I feel like I’ve talked more genuinely about myself than I have in years. It’s so refreshing. At the halfway point we pull off in a small diner and eat a quick early dinner before Folio takes over for his leg of the drive. 

The great music and conversation make the last hours of the trip fly by, before I know it we are passing the Colorado state line in the late evening and finally pull into the resort’s long drive way at nearly 3 am for our check-in. I take a deep breath, “okay, are you ready fake boyfriend?” I ask him and he gives a mock salute, “oh I’m ready girlfriend, it’s gonna be a good time.”

next chapter ->

[the-not-so-silent-back-up]

Fools ❤️‍🩹

Attention: this Fic is partly based on ture events, so it's very personal for me. f you don't like it or if it's just not your thing am totally fine with it but please don't say anything mean. Thank you

Warning: no beta reader, english isn't my first language

(Steve Harrington) x fem!reader x Eddie Munson

Summary: You have a crush on Steve while Eddie has a crush on you. And everyone is a bit of a fool because for a long time no one talks about their feelings.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

-Chapter 5-

-Sunshine-

At your place Eddie helped you get all your stuff inside. After that was finished Eddie wanted to get back into his van but you grabbed his arm carefully to stop him. With confusion he looked at you, first at your hand on his arm then directly into your face.

“Eddie wait, thank you”

Eddie seems to doesn't understand what you mean. “Of course I will always drive you home, especially when it's already dark.”

“No this isn't what I meant “ He furrowed his eyebrows. “Thank you for everything, for being there for me and taking care of me so often, without you this summer would have been a real shitshow.”

You hesitated a bit but you stepped closer to Eddie and gave him a kiss on his cheek.

Eddie couldn't react the way he wanted, he just stood there without saying anything.

“Eddie you are really the best”

Now Eddie stepped closer to you and hugged you and whispered a thank you into your neck, so you wouldn't see the tear rolling down the cheek you just kissed. “I will always look out for you sweetheart.” And with that he moved away and got into his van and drove back home.

A slammed door later Eddie finally let out his feelings just once, he cried. He looked at the Photos of you and him together and nearly tore them apart but he would hate himself even more afterwards if he did that so he could stop himself.

He just asked himself why? Why did he develop a crush on you? It was obvious because you were always nice to him and cared for him when nobody did. But why? When a girl like you had a crush on Steve it was also obvious that you would never like him the way he did.

Isn't it crazy how you and Eddie had exactly the same feelings but in a different direction? But he doesn't have anyone to tell, he doesn't wanna tell anyone. But it hurts all this affection from you for nothing. He lightly touched his cheek where you kissed him and it felt like he could still feel your lips. As he undressed and smelled the sunscreen he almost could feel the shadows of your hands massaging him.

The urge to kiss you when you grabbed his arm was Infinite. But he couldn't, you would never date a guy like him. And silent tears ran over his face again. There were a million things he wanted to tell you, but he wasn't able to. He never said or even thought of the word “Love” but let's be honest. One day you will meet a guy, because you were reading the same book or something and he has to watch you fall in love and get married and just the imagine of you walking past him in a Wedding dress and not towards him made him scream into a pillow all over again.

Everyday he spends with you he says to himself being your friend is enough, but deep down his heart he knows he is lying. He wants to do all those silly and cheesy things with you that couples do. He wants to dance with you, he wants to cook for you, he wants to hear you talk all day, he wants to kiss and yeah he wants to love you like really make love to you. For him you were always the perfect girl, and Steve must have been blind. You stood there in front of Steve and told him about your year long crush and he said No. How could he not love you like he did?

Eddie couldn't sleep all night, the day at the lake was just too much for him to handle, the way you touched him and how he could touch you and still not be able to really touch you. He cried, he wrote some of his feelings down just to burn them right after. He played some guitar, without noticing he only played the songs he knew you liked till the sun was rising.

In a few hours you will call him like usual and ask what you will be doing today. But he couldn't do it today, he couldn't spend another day pretending. As Eddie was eating Cheerios for breakfast he thought of a lie, a story he could tell you so you won't come over today. If he tells you he is sick, you will come and make soup, if he tells you there is something broken you will come and try to help fix it. It has to be something that will keep you away without hurting your feelings, you have been hurt enough this summer. Without a warning the phone rang and he had to come up with something right now because of course it was you on the other end. In the end he told you that he had to fix a loophole in his D&D campaign and because you are now also a member of Hellfire of course you couldn't help him.

But now what he will do with his day. Without thinking he called Steve:

“Hey Steve, it's Eddie.”

“Hi what's up”

“Steve I hate myself for doing this but I need your help. Please don't ask any questions now. Can I come over and we talk and if y/n asks just tell her you are busy and that we never talked today.”

“Okay yeah of course” Steve sounded a bit lost but similar to the night you told him the truth he felt the seriousness in Eddie's voice.

Without a party going on Eddie felt like a stranger in Steve's home. But Steve did welcome him with the same friendliness as usual.

“Are we alone?” Eddie asked with a still unsteady voice. “

“Yeah, my parents just left for work an hour ago” Steve told him “are you in danger or why shouldn't y/n know about this right now?”

Eddie thought of possible ways to tell him, and after a few moments he decided it was the best to just rip in like a bandaid, quick and painless.

“I have a crush on y/n for an eternity. And now since she is over you my crush is unbearable.” and again all Steve could say was “oh”. But the difference between Eddie and you was, you broke down to tears but Eddie just sat there motionless staring into the air.

“Since when exactly?”

“I don't know if you remember but one day in middle school, my dad buzzed my hair again and the popular kids made fun of me and they pushed me to the ground and I got a bloody lip from that. And as they were about to kick me again y/n stood in front of me and slapped that asshole right across the face and after that she even took care of my wound and shared her lunch with me.” Eddie told the story and didn't look once at Steve. “I guess it took a few weeks till I convinced myself that I have a crush on her. But yeah since middle school.”

Steve was amazed and shocked “And you kept it to yourself all that time? Why did you never tell her?”

“I don't know. I was scared. Fucking hell I don't know Harrington I only know that I hated you for the past few weeks and now you are the one i share my biggest secret with because I don't know what to do” sadness and anger was both clearly visiabel in Eddie's face.

“Why did you hate me?..Oh yes of course”

Steve realised how stupid his question was.

Yes Eddie hated him not for who he was, no for what he did to you for weeks. You were crying in Eddie's arms about a guy who doesn't even deserve you. Steve did that. Steve said that. And Eddie did do all those things too but that never mattered to you.

The silence between the boys was tense. It was like the silence before a storm.

“You know what Steve, forget it nobody can help me not even you. Just think logically once if y/n likes boys like you” and he pointed at Steve “She will never like boys like me” Edde put his hand on his chest.

Eddie grabbed his jacket and was about to storm out.

“Eddie I am sorry”

“What ?” Eddie spun around to look at Steve

“That night y/n told me everything I apologised for making her sad, but I guess, even without your crush, I should apologise to you ‘cause I left y/n in a mess and you always took care of her.”

“It's okay. I gladly took care of her” Eddie's voice was softer again

“And now I wanna apologise for everything else, I cannot imagine how bad you felt comforting the girl you like, who is crying about another guy…it must be hard to pretend all the time?”

Steve said with a low voice, because he really felt bad for Eddie. “Eddie also for that I am sorry.”

“Thank you. Steve I can't pretend anymore I just can't.” Tears filled Eddie's eyes. “She is my sunshine, with her everything is brighter, warmer and just better. And without her the World is gray and cold.”

Steve looked at him but Eddie's eyes were blank but filled with tears. Steve realised this isn't a crush anymore. “Eddie?” he finally looked up at Steve “Do you love her?”

“Of course I do” with that tears rolled down his cheeks “I love her so much that I know I never deserve her, nobody does, she is too good, too sweet, too innocent to be loved my a guy like me”

Eddie felt horrible, like a helpless child he covered his face with his hands. Steve was just as overwhelmed as Eddie from the situation. With a lot of doubt he sat a bit close to Eddie and began patting his back. But Eddie didn't stop him.

“Eddie you need to do something, and looking back at the day at the lake I feel like …”

Eddie looked up quickly “Like what ?”

“I had the feeling that y/n likes you more than you think maybe more than she knows herself”

“What no! That's bullshit”

“I am just saying what I saw and her behaviour towards you speaks for itself I guess. I am just observing.”

Eddie is quiet for a while but then he asks “Did she tell you something?”

“No of course not, she spent the last two weeks just with you” Steve said and lightly pushed against Eddie's shoulder. Eddie smiled that were probably the best two weeks of his life.

“You need to tell her, follow the advice you gave y/n with me. And just hope for the best.”

Eddie sighes.

“You know her the best. I 'm sure you will find the right way to tell her. And just remember my Observation.”

On his way hom Eddie was surprised by many things: that Steve actually comforted him and that he feels better and also the thing he told him that maybe you liked him more they you knew yourself.

[butterflydm]

this is random but i just remembered that ages ago i saw an ask game for asking fic writers their 5 favorites/ones they're most proud of of their own fics, and i would love to know yours if you're up for it! it would be so interesting to hear a Butterfly Career Retrospective haha

feel free to be flexible on the number and discuss as many or as few fics as you feel like, and to count a whole series as a single entry (like voice, although if you have any particular favorite installments or interludes within that that you'd like to note i'd be curious to hear that too!)

This took a while but I finally got it done, @markantonys!

I have written a lot of fics, so this was a difficult challenge. I am somewhat helped out by the fact that old fics tend to fade out of my memory… but then if I reread a bit of them, I tend to remember why I wrote them and what I loved about them. I did not limit myself to five fics (I tried!) but these are roughly in reverse chronological order of when I posted them.

not in the stars, but in ourselves - trying to bob and weave and make something that feels narratively satisfying out of the mess that is Mat Cauthon's late series arc has become something of a hobby of mine! This is fic is one of several where I narratively examine parts of the canon that didn't work so well for me and try to rearrange them into something that feels like it rings true for the previous characterization and choices.

This fic in particular really made me see how the roadblocks that existed in each of the character's main plotlines was so much easier to solve if they had access to the other main characters (and I suspect that's part of why Jordan kept them so unnaturally separated during these arcs).

I also really enjoy the romance in this fic, and how the characters interact with prophecy in more unexpected ways, and how Rand and Mat help each other through their traumas, and how each of the members of the polycule bring their own perspective to the relationship.

the caffrey exception in White Collar fandom - this fic languished mostly unfinished on my harddrive for a long time before polyweek gave me an excuse to finish it up and post it! I wasn’t really in White Collar fandom, was the problem, and I always write and post more consistently when I have fellow fandom people to encourage me. I also was originally watching WC with my (now ex-)girlfriend and I stopped watching after we broke up, iirc, so I didn’t actually finish the show until years later. And by the time I was writing it, I didn’t feel like there was all that much visible fandom around. But it had a nice little response during polyshipweek, so I was really happy with how it all turned out. Makes me think that one day maybe I’ll finish up and post that RENT fanfic that’s been on my harddrive for eighteen million years.

negotiating with the truth in The Wheel of Time fandom - you can tell I got fancy with this fic because I gave the chapters titles, lol. This fic leans hard into Mat being an unreliable narrator and playing around with that, and it was a lot of fun to focus on and explore that part of him. I do love a lot of the fics I've written in WoT so trying to narrow it down more was tough (and I still only managed to narrow down to three!) but I really loved writing this one and exploring the differing ways that Mat and Rand were approaching this relationship of theirs and how they come to a compromise in the end. I think I really liked that they genuinely do have different wants and desires that need to be navigated.

voice interlude: feels like falling for the first time in The Wheel of Time fandom - this is, a little bit, subbing in for the Voice series as a whole, but I wanted to pick out a complete story and not something still in progress. I am pretty hopeful that Voice will get finished (there are three more main fics in the series, I think — one that mostly spoils through bk9: winter’s heart; one that mostly spoils through bk12: the gathering storm; and then one with whole-series spoilers) but I have some fairly long unfinished works in past fandoms, so eggs and hatching & etc.

What makes this fic in particular stand out to me is how I was able to really take this one moment in time in the series and expand on it so that I could deep-dive into Mat’s characterization and what he was thinking and feeling, and it’s such a revelatory moment for Mat. I enjoy showing characterization via writing about sex, and the interludes in the Voice series really allow me to do that.

my mouth (your lips) my hands (your hips) in The Magicians fandom - This fic where Margo and Eliot approach Quentin on this more equal ground (of them competing to see which of them can land him first) and it developing into a true polyam relationship… I really loved exploring how messy but ultimately loving it was. I also loved delving into Margo as an aromantic character in this fic, and how the great love of her life is her best friend.

A lot of my own fears and pains and worries made it into the three main characters in this one, though all in ways that make sense with their own base characterization, I think. There’s this one line that Eliot thinks - “he had always been better at self-preservation than bravery” and that is 100% canon Eliot but… yeah, it’s also me. One of the things I am working on in therapy is loosening the stranglehold of my self-preservation so that I can be a little braver when it comes to reaching out to other people.

If you like my poly fics in WoT fandom, you might also enjoy my marqueliot fics (but I wouldn’t recommend the show tbh. Or, well, I might rec it up until the episode “All That Hard Glossy Armor”. That’s a good one to end on. And it’s a Margo episode!).

searching for a sound (we hadn’t heard before) in The Magicians fandom - I wrote some serious fix-it fics in this fandom. But this fic was me taking the kind of ridiculous angle on a plotline that I think that the show might have actually pulled off, if it had been so inclined. This fic was also me balling up all my frustration at the poor writing choices and lobbing it at the show’s forehead. It was very cathartic to write. And I think it’s pretty funny too, so that’s a bonus.

(I’m Not Calling You A) Liar for Steven Universe fandom — I am cheating here and including a vid. This vid is… if I sliced up my heart (Hannibal style) and laid it out on a plate, it would look something like this vid. I actually started watching Steven Universe because I saw the “Stronger Together” clip with Garnet but soon after I started watching… holy shit, Pearl and her deep heartbreak over Rose just grabbed me by the throat and did not let me go. Watching her slowly process and begin to resolve her grief was a very healing experience when I was watching the show. There was something very much intensely yearning about Pearl at the start of SU, and how she was trying so hard to hide it (from Steven but from the other gems as well). But she can’t move on until she confronts and heals!

My favorite of the vids that I’ve made, I think, and the one I’m proudest of. There is maybe one single clip that I would change now if I went back to edit it again, but that’s it. I’m fully satisfied with the rest of it; and this is not the case with most of my vids. My Yuri! On Ice vid is probably the other one that comes closest to feeling like I wouldn’t change anything now.

Enyo’s Daughter in MCU fandom — so I am a bit of an odd one out in MCU fandom, because the ship that I liked the best, over any other… Tony and Natasha. Iron Man and Black Widow. It’s a complex and thorny ship, but I liked exploring it. Tony and Natasha both get to be messy and fucked up and exploring situations like that can be interesting. It was written pretty soon after the first Avengers movie came out, if I recall correctly. I never did finish the sequel to this fic, which I am kinda sad about.

Any fandom where canon is currently developing can be kinda tough for me to stay ahead of, in terms of writing any big fic series(es) — this is also why my big Star Wars WIP is destined never to be finished, tbh. I started writing it before a lot of the current canon even exists, and trying to go back and finish it would be difficult because the new shows & movies have changed so much and it can be hard to mentally reconcile what I knew back then vs what I know now when it comes to canon. Once the new MCU movies after Avengers came out, this fic was kinda doomed to never get the sequel finished, alas. And this is why WoT having a closed book canon has made writing fic for it easier, I think.

Melt into Time from American Idol RPF — time-travel fic! I’ve attempted it from time to time, but this one I actually finished. I don’t remember the actual process of writing this anymore, because my memory is for crap, as I mentioned at the start, but it is probably my favorite fic that I wrote in this fandom overall. It deals with second chances and a lot of yearning and people being emotionally messy (a theme for me, for sure).

Justice, Be Not Blind from Dexter — my one and only Dexter fic. What I remember most about writing this fic is that despite how short it is (less than 1k), I did so much research. Miguel Prado was hands-down my favorite character who ever appeared on Dexter and so I wanted to write a fic for him, but I wanted it to sound as true to his character voice as possible. I don’t even really remember the extent of the research that I did and it’s been so long that I couldn’t tell you anymore whether or not the character voice is accurate, but I remember how much I wanted to get this right and how much work I put into trying to get Miguel to feel genuine.

Travelers Without Map or Compass for Doctor Who fandom - cute romantic fluff, but I’m very fond of it. It captures a sort of vibe in the Doctor & Rose relationship that was very appealing to me, and I enjoyed exploring and expanding my thoughts on some of the rooms in the TARDIS.

Another Nameless Planet in the Star Wars (Prequel) fandom — I wrote longer fics in Star Wars fandom but honestly I think I captured Anakin best in this small fic that’s not really about anything in particular except Anakin wanting to be treated as an equal (by Obi-Wan specifically).

I have fics that I wrote before this point, but most of them I genuinely don’t remember writing to the point of going, “huh, oh, wow, I guess that was me, huh?” lol. But going back over my fics… man, it really is like having the deepest yearnings of your heart spread out in front of the world sometimes, isn’t it?

Thanks for sending me on this journey to the past! I hope you enjoyed it. <3

[anonymousauthorsblog]

Turning Passions

chapter 7- understood.

this chapter does include writing

lowercase intended

the greatest - lana del ray

.•.••.•.•.••.•.•.••.•.••.•.•.••.•.•.••.•.••.•.•.••.•.•.•

y/n pov 3rd person

y/n sighs as she finally makes her way to her dorm, she stops in front of the dorm before putting her head down against the cold wood. she shuffles her feet, feeling the pain of overworking herself and finally sighs before entering her key and walking into the dorm. maki and toge are already at the door waiting for her to arrive. “HEY Y/N” toge yells, “yo” maki adds on. “how was the tryouts or whatever” maki asks after. y/n is hesitant with her answer because she doesn’t want to jinx anything coming fourth. “it was a bit more scary than my other ones but we find out tomorrow.” “dang that fast?” toge says with a surprised look, “don’t they need like a few days to choose” he continues. y/n shrugs her shoulders and explains “that’s college for you i guess and these teachers truly don’t mess around” “well there’s dinner in the fridge to eat” maki says with a stern look. toge jumps in after “yup auditions are over so it’s time to have our amazing and not mean y/n back” y/n turns her head and stares him down. “kidding” he says putting his hands up in defense, “but seriously please y/n it’s time to bring you back to health” y/n nods before replying “ok well um i’ll eat later im going to get ready for bed” the other two friends nod before they say their good nights before eventually going on to their own rooms. y/n then goes into her room, dropping everything when she enters. she strips from her ballet clothing before putting on her pajamas, throwing her dirty clothes on the floor not caring about the mess. she then rips down her hair, leaving it with the product still in, before jumping into bed. exhaustion finally taking over and before luring into a deep sleep.

y/n is suddenly awoken by the noise of someone banging on the door, she looks up and tries to get up and out of bed. she finally makes it out of the tangles of multiple blankets as she stumbles down to the floor- making her way to the door. she finally opens her room door not making out of the image of who it is. she blinks and rubs her eyes a couple of times to then see maki at the door irritated. “you know what time it is?” y/n hums as she rubs her eyes once more. “y/n! your classes for today? or is that going to be optional for you?” maki yells at her. y/n is then fully awake from the full force news to her sleeping in. “oh shit” she says as she rushes towards her school bags digging to quickly organize and change textbooks for her classes today, “oh shit is right” maki mumbles as she leaves the doorway. y/n then grabs her school bag and makes her way to her bathroom. y/n tries to get ready mainly focusing on the basic necessities- not making any effort to her appearance, only focusing on the mess of her hair she has from not showering the night before. she races across her room trying to reach the door before she suddenly trips over something, slamming down to the ground. she groans as she looks up before realizing she tripped over her dance bag. dance. she then realizes and gasps as today she would find out if she got the black swan. y/n slowly gets up and accepts that she won’t make it on time for her first class. she puts down her stuff before starting over her morning- this time making sure she’s prepared and ready for the day with the recognition of dance. including the million dollar news that could help start her dream- or ruin her chances of dancing forever.

y/n pov 3rd person

y/n finishes her first class of the day, closing her phone from getting the text from the new group chat she was added in a week ago. she makes her way to the center because the first class of the day was also her last one before dance. she then stops in front of the door. she sighs and takes a deep breath as her nerves are starting to kick in. she then finally enters and makes her way into the dressing room. she does her usual routine before entering her classroom to practice like usual. today is different the only person in the room is kai. her one and only competition, but this time she’s viewing her as someone who she would share the main stage with. she walks in before entering the dance floor and she begins turning. as she’s turning the vision of disappointment appears in her mind as the memories of her first dance class comes in. she views the mistakes and the need to grow, she starts to panic but tries to push through. but the thoughts don’t stop as the fear of failure comes in and the anxiety of not getting role clouds in. she then feels her foot start to feel weak as she bobbles her last turn before ending the whole entire sequence itself. she then puts her hands to hear knees trying to keep her breathing steady- she eventually looks up to see herself in the mirror. but then she sees that kai has been watching her. “those were good but you bobbled the last one, why?” y/n looks at kai from the mirror. she takes a long pause, thinking of a response before answering, “why?”. the one word usage surprises kai. kai then smirks and crosses her arms. “because your my competition of course, i know im the best so you’re obviously right up with me, why did you bobble your last turn.” y/n scoffs before turning to face her. “because I just did? is that a good answer for you” slowly growing irritated. kai hums before walking out of the room, “we may be auditioning for different parts which is lucky for you, but know later into the season when there’s only one main part to get- just know that i’ll get it.” y/n is left there with silence, she stands there stunned for a minute . shes never really had a problem with kai and always thought this competition was more friendly and something to push each other. until now. y/n looks up, tightening the grip of her hands before going towards the barre. even though she’s irritated with the new “acquaintance” she gained, that doesn’t build up enough emotion to stop the sport she loves. dance. so instead of taking the frustration on kai and walking out like the dancer who tried to scare her off. she leaves it to the dance floor and resumes her practice. a few minutes passed then 15 have and the class has started. the class starts with no word on the main leads and instead straight into a ballet piece from the swan lake the teacher wanted everyone to learn- the 4 little swans. they take the whole class learning before the teacher announces, “i know many of you’ve been waiting for me to announce the roles so here it is. i won’t sugar coat it, this is the field of dance. but if you tried out and didn’t make it then i still want to see more of you in the more less dramatic roles for our upcoming project. when i call your name for these two roles come see me after class because we need to talk” the old teacher glances the room and pauses before continuing in a strict but cold manner. “congratulations to kai everden for the role of the white swan.” she pauses and looks around. y/n starts to sweat, she gets nervous and starts to overthink her performance. her head feels dizzy and she starts to get lost in her own thoughts. until the loud booming of the voice of her teacher interrupts her. “and to y/n l/n for the black swan.” y/ns face brights up she glances to her teacher to see her already facing her. her face beamed with a smile and she’s filled with relief. she then sits up more taller filled with confidence as she then waits to hear the rest of what has to be said from the instructor.

the dance teacher continues “that’s it for class other part auditions will be next week, goodbye. then as a until the other dancers exit, most of them filled with emotion as those who tried out didn’t get the chance to be the main lead. y/n and kai get up to approach the dance teacher before she starts. “don’t think because you got the role you are perfect, you guys are not. this sudden outburst draws the faces of both dancers and takes the color of both of their faces. the teacher continues. “i’m surprised you guys tried out for the roles you did-you guys actually fit each others roles perfectly. y/n scrunches her eyebrows and tries to wipe her confused face off before letting her teacher continue. “i made the decision that if i don’t see improvement of you two becoming and getting into your character that you got i will change it.” kai intrudes in “what do you mean?” the teacher raises her voice “i mean if i don’t see you being graceful and dance with perfection and become the white swan i will turn you into the black one, the same for you y/n” she yells. y/n adds on “so your saying im not into character enough” “im saying you’re dancing like the white swan and im seeing kai dancing like the black. this changes everything for you two now. you now are going to have to continue fighting for your original roles.” “understood” y/n replies defeated. “if you both cannot do it and complain then i’ll replace you both she continues. there’s silence in the studio. “there are multiple ladies who would kill for this role in this dance program. be thankful you have one chance that i never usually make, that’s it. see you next class with more details about extra rehearsals. y/n finally looks up as the teacher leaves. kai looks at her before taking her leave too. y/n is now left alone in the dance room confused. she thought she lived through the black swan, all the practices and videos on hours and hours didn’t pay off. she looks up before leaving the class room entering the dressing room, before taking her bag, changing in peace. to leaving the studio this time with her head and heart held low.

authors note: hey guys!! welcome back to chapter 7! sorry it took a while school is kicking my butt!! today we have a short chapter (no megumi pov 🫤) but UPCOMING MEET WITH ALL STREAMERS + Y/Ns GROUP!!! also our little dancer finally got the role! (idk if she wanted it to go like this though… but anyways see you guys next chapter because that one will definitely be a fun and much longer one! anyways see yall later! <3

fun facts:

• toge and maki know when y/n is upset and it’s usually because of dance but they try to help and comfort her by spending time and doing acts of service for her (so cute)

• megumi usually never says hi to someone first so when he did it to y/n, yuji and nobaras megumi+y/n ship went OFFFFFF

• yuji loves gaming but wants to explore doing other things for his channel

my tags list should work now, if not then trust i will email tumblr or some. anyways if it doesn’t please comment down your blog name so i can try again, thank you for your support! <3

taglist! -

@catobsessedlady @prettynai @notveevee @1l-ynn @xcalkenf @heyheyitsurdaily @aceakariii @meltedoctopie @hannahgcherry

[oreosmama]

In the Black Widow’s Nest (Henry Creel x Reader) 🕷️Chapter 2🕷️

*GIF not mine*

Summary:

Prince Henry of the Creel Dynasty is finally in search of a wife, and in the spirit of courtship, King Victor has invited young royalty from all neighboring kingdoms to vie for his hand. But with so much royalty introduces the need for many more maids in the castle than usual.

Enter: You.

You’re nothing but a servant in his home, an intruder in his prized library, and an utter nuisance in his mind. But then you survive his attack, and in an unexpected way nonetheless. That makes you… interesting.

You’ve caught his eye—congratulations! Now, you must deal with the consequences of loving a heartless prince in a world where far worse things lurk in the castle than dirty garderobes.

Chapter 1

A/N: yay, another chapter! and not a million bajillion months later, either, aren’t u guys lucky? I worked hard on this one! Let me know what you think, and I hope you enjoy!

Word count: 4809

The maids of the castle did not have an organized way of awakening. The first one to rise from her cot never rang a bell, nor did she make a sound as she bumbled about the room. The others simply roused at her activity and moved to follow her lead. A soft ray of warmth would peek through window curtains, illuminating the rumpled sheets and the scuffling shoes as the ladies donned their uniforms: white pinafores over black smocks, black sleeves down to the wrists with white cuffs, white bows, black slippers.

A light chatter had begun after one maid, a new recruit hired for the season, had asked another for assistance in tying the pinafore’s bow at her back. By the time the bow was finished, the rest of the room had followed suit. Conversations erupted, and some of the more experienced women had taken to helping the newcomers with their garments. When one began to brush her own hair, so did another. When one adjusted the strap on her own shoe, so did another.

They moved as one body and looked as one body, as was expected of them. None dared to lose their opportunity to work with the castle's wages and living, especially during such a season.

The prince of the Creel Dynasty was finally searching for a wife.

The kingdom had long awaited this announcement from the handsome young heir. In preparation for the many balls, galas, and other festivities promised by this news, the castle staff had welcomed a myriad of new members, all of whom had to be trained before the kingdom could host any visiting royalty.

The maids, therefore, had the strictest schedules and regimens. The nature of their duties made it most plausible to come in contact with a royal, and such required a level of propriety unobserved by them in their previous homes.

But a new fear had struck the collective consciousness of the trainees.

One that made the threat of interacting with royals all the more potent.

You rose from your cot at the tap of the girl beside you. A fierce spasming fired along your spine, where your new wounds must have reopened from the movement.

Briefly, you considered lying back down, letting your headache swallow you whole. Considered Miss Miriam, in a devilish state, screaming at you, dismissing you, dragging you out of the castle. Crawling back home with no money, nothing to show for your promises of dragging them out of the village and whisking them away to a life of less hell. You consider coming out of the castle like you came in. Still nothing. Having nothing.

But a pretty sight struck you—Miss Miriam, with her crop, coming up behind you, and you, twisting and grabbing her by her gray hair, shoving her face into a used chamber pot.

Then swatting the old harpy with her own weapon.

A smile split your face, causing the bruise on your cheek to throb.

One day.

But until that day, you were stuck here under the shameless eyes of your own fellow maids. The show Miss Miriam had put on for the others was one that must be burned into the backs of their eyelids, because the maids did one of two things.

They watched you, or they blinked.

You folded in on yourself, turning away and grasping your uniform tucked neatly beneath your bed. When you rose back up and reached for the hem of your nightdress, you hesitated.

The gazes were so heavy you could drown. Even now, you could feel the oozing blood sticking to the thick fabric. However prominent the bruise on your face was nothing compared to artwork that mangled your back; something was peeling, another splitting, and much was bleeding. It was all one collective wound, one scab healing so slowly that any movement you made renewed the process.

You did everything quickly and quietly. You tore off your dress, peeling off fresh skin with it, and stretched the other one over your head, thankful the black smock wouldn’t stain so evidently. The gasps didn’t slow you down. You tugged on your shoes and straightened your sleeves. You whisked your hair out of your face as you worked, tightening and adjusting and grimacing your way through it.

Tears burned at the corners of your eyes, but you didn’t let them fall. You were surprised you had any left after last night—your own tongue sat as dry as a rock in your mouth. How could there be more?

But they sprang forth when you pulled the pinafore over your sleeves and realized you couldn’t tie the bow yourself. Not as tightly as it should be. Your own body wouldn’t let you do such a thing to your wound.

You needed help. Would any of them be willing to even speak to you? To be seen associating with the first pariah of the group?

You couldn’t imagine yourself doing it. Self-preservation was at an all-time high after your public whipping. Would anyone even believe that you hadn’t wanted any of this? That you hadn’t been a crown-hunting girl begging for trouble? That something bordering on preternatural had invaded your mind and drowned out your senses, and all you could do was cling onto another human as you grappled for reality—who gave a damn if the man just happened to be Prince Henry, the one person women in all the known kingdoms were trying to obtain?

No.

No one would believe you.

Dear God, you sounded deranged. One step away from fleeing into the woods waving sticks and crying demon at every creature you crossed.

The church bells, of all things, being the sounds you’d heard when your own life was slipping away before your eyes. You may as well hang yourself right now, if the king couldn’t decree it any faster.

You dropped the two fabric strings of the pinafore with a muffled snivel, cupping your bruised cheek and letting your eyes fall closed.

Three months. Just three months to shed the new label and secure yourself a permanent position in the castle. Real servants’ lodgings, proper pay, daily meals. You could live the rest of your life not acknowledged by another soul if you could just stay here, safe and content and unheeded.

What more could a person want out of life?

A gentle touch at your shoulder blade drew your attention, and you flinched away before it got any closer to your injuries. You spun around and bumped into your cot, eyeing the other maid warily. Her gaze was kind and bordered on innocent, vibrant blue barely peeking out from behind a wall of curly brown hair. She looked about your age, and at first glance, you would never notice the proud, acute way she held herself.

Like she always knew what she was doing, and yet always knew too much.

And when she offered her hands like a sign of peace, you did not try to back away again. Far be it from you to reject the first kindness you had experienced since you had arrived here.

“I can tie your bow, if you like?”

That same accent, unrefined when compared to what usually bounced off the gilded walls, and you surmise that she must have come from another small village like yours. Unlike you, however, she seemed to have less fear when navigating through unfamiliarities like castles and cruel maids.

Why else would she bother offering the one persona non grata a helping hand?

You pause at her offer, gnawing on your lip as though you had other options to consider. Perhaps there was some ill intent to her aid, but even if there was, you couldn’t figure out what and why and why bother.

“Yes…” you swallowed. “Please.”

She smiled gently and gestured for you to turn around. When her hands tied the bow, it was all light fingers and quiet conversations.

Her name was Nancy, and you learned she had come from the village next to yours. When she couldn’t get a job working for a seamstress, she wound up as something of a governess in the kingdom’s walls, traversing back and forth between her home and those of higher standings nearer to the castle. She was good at watching children, but the castle was offering far more than royalty’s butlers and vicars could afford.

And she was also very sorry for you. What happened yesterday was hard to watch.

You asked her to tighten the bow, dismissing her small hum of concern, and swallowed the bile that rose when the pinafore dug securely into the gashes of your back.

You both knew she had been fixing to leave it loose, letting you decide if the risk of an untidy uniform was worth the comfort.

It wasn’t.

The other maids, it seemed, had grown uninterested the second your wounds were covered for what would be the remainder of the day, and returned to normal conversation. Few glances were thrown your way since Nancy had tied your bow, and you noticed yet another phenomenon.

Caught up in a sea of black and white, the only difference between you and Nancy, between any one maid and another, was her hair. Brunette and blond hair intermixed with black and ginger, all blended seamlessly when plaited or swept up into a bun.

Yours hung loose and knotted down your back, and without a word, Nancy began to wisp the tendrils into a braid. You wanted to stop her, but you couldn’t. Your own arms could barely raise as high as your heart, and your hands shook the second they entered your vision, lifted to stop Nancy’s at your nape.

“There,” she murmured, dismissing your thanks, “now you really blend in. By tonight, the others won’t even remember which bed you’re in.”

“Should I be concerned they know that now?”

She laughed softly. “I suppose not, although I have overheard a few girls bitter about you being with a royal.”

You blanched. “What? That’s what they’re focused on?”

Maybe… maybe you should have guessed some of them might focus on that fact. But look where it got you, and you hadn’t even been trying.

Properly flogged, and now in the sights of one Miss Miriam.

Nancy shrugs. “Just a few. Most have been scared for you. But,” she pauses, pursing her lips, “you must understand that we’re… thankful, in a cruel way.”

Of course. You could understand that.

It terrified you, angered you to no end, but you understood it. Someone had to be a lesson for the others. A demonstration. The new maids needed a spectacle to understand where the power lied—that power did not lie solely within royalty. There were pockets of it left scattered throughout the castle, and cruel-enough servants snatched it up whenever possible, and lorded it over whoever would listen.

But… you wanted to cry at the unfairness of it all. You never thought it would be you.

The collective consciousness reigned over the servants once more, and they began to line up. You spotted a girl, younger-looking than most, step away from the door, and guessed she must have heard footsteps. Nancy nodded at you before joining a line, and you followed.

Like clockwork, the door slammed open, and Miss Miriam entered with a silencing swoosh of her black smock. When her second-in-command entered, goosebumps ran down your spine.

You could still feel yourself struggling in her arms, sobs wracking their way through you as she steadied your form for another lashing. Your heartbeat began thundering in your back, right underneath the bow of the pinafore.

“Ladies, today is a day of utmost importance.” With small, black eyes narrowed and surveying each and every young girl before her, Miss Miriam furrowed her brow and frowned, wrinkles tracing the expressions with ease. Her face pinched together so tightly it resembled a sun-dried grape. “The royal family will be welcoming four promising princesses today, and it will be your duty to clean every inch of the castle they will roam upon before they arrive. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Miss Miriam.”

“We will work as one. We will bow as one. We do everything as one, today and all days, ladies. Efficiently, and quietly.” Her eyes fell on you. “No one will cause trouble today. Understood?”

You gulped. The maids chimed together once more, and you could only mouth along with them.

“Yes, Miss Miriam.”

Her gaze left yours, and the tightening of your throat eased.

“Moira will delegate assignments. Those tidying halls will follow me.”

The hallways, all gilded columns and glistening marble, flared victoriously in the morning sun. Most aspects of the castle seemed to emphasize the Creel Monarchy’s pride, their devout sense of self-satisfaction the principal aspect of every painting, vase, and snuffed sconce.

A portrait of the long deceased King James, great-great-great-great grandfather to Prince Henry—though, you pondered calling the number of greats preceding his name into question (and the word great itself)—sneered down at you, seeming perpetually pleased to be two hundred years in the ground and still lording himself over every subject that roamed his halls.

Disdain for all others must have been passed down the family line religiously.

You dragged your eyes down and away, busying yourself instead with dusting the marbleized snoot of Julius Caesar. The crystalline windows of the castle acted like a magnifying glass against you as you worked, adding a heat to the already aching skin of your back. You were a cockroach wandering too close to a flame, and any second now you could burn up from the inside out, crushed with a crunch rather than a squelch.

Using the back of your hand, you wiped the sweat from your brow, eyes wandering dangerously to the maid who worked beside you.

Nancy, owning the more bearable appearance between the two of you, had been sent out to deliver and replace new bed sheets along with thirty other girls. But the girl beside you, taller and owning a mess of dirty blonde hair swept into an apathetic bun, had somewhat of the same spirit of Nancy. A small glimmer of rebellion shone in her eyes each time Miss Miriam wandered far enough down the glittering hallway so as to only be seen by squinting.

Then, with a wry twitch of her freckled face, she’d rasp five blasphemies she’d decided described the witch in that moment.

Musty shrew appeared to be a favorite.

The girl glanced up from where she had been polishing a rickety wooden chair and flashed you a smile, glancing each way before rising from her knees and approaching. She reached out and plopped the brush she had been using on the table holding the marble statue head, and plugged a finger into each of its ears.

“I don’t suppose Jesus here will strike me down for my profanity, will he?”

You looked down. Chiseled above its wrinkled forehead was a laurel crown, and you couldn’t recall a Bible passage describing Jesus’ sabbatical in Rome. You blinked at her.

“I’m pretty sure that’s Julius Caesar.”

The blonde glances at the statue again, gray eyes darting over it before she shrugs. “Same difference. If there is a sculpture of Jesus somewhere in this castle, I have no doubt he’s going to receive the same mouthful of feathers you’re forcing on poor Caesar here.”

“Only if Miss Miriam deems it so.” You nodded your head in the skeletal maid’s direction. “Her words are as good as gospel, after all.”

“And yet, each time she speaks, I feel like I’m taking orders from Satan.”

You let out a ghost of a laugh, biting your tongue when your wounds contract and throb.

Her face splits into a smile, and she lets out a short laugh too. Something flits along her face, though, and you get the sense you didn’t hide your pain well enough. The subject is easily danced around; the maid releases her grip on the statue and instead grasps her skirt, lowering into a teasing curtsy. “The name is Robin, milady.” Her eyelashes flutter rapidly and she waggles her fingers in the air, perfectly, in your opinion, mimicking the interactions between royalty that you’ve seen thus far. Haughty, majestic, and filled with intentions barely skin-deep.

You do the same.

She lets your name roll off her tongue a few times, letting it thud against the crisp white walls in her hoarse tone before saying decidedly, “Very fitting.”

Before long, Miss Miriam decides the hallway is clean enough and herds all the maids, the vast majority of them being newcomers like you, out and away into the next wing.

A chill wracks through you when the word “residential” gets passed down the line of one hundred girls, followed by “prince” and “bedroom” and “handsome.” You scan the white, stone columns as you pass, watching them curve into elegant archways shadowed through the frosted windows. This wing is covered in significantly less dust, and a faint scent of roses and pines floats in the air.

You try to flood out the memories, thinking vigorously about the red carpet before you, the soft slap of two hundred clogs, small shuffles and whispers. Everything around you you swallow up whole, eyes wide as though it will help you take in everything and think about nothing. But you cannot avoid it for long; not when you pass by the entrance to the royal throne room, in all its scintillating enormity, golden thrones set with silk, inlaid with gemstones, all wide open spaces.

And hovering above all four was a single, large oil portrait of the living Creel sovereigns.

King Victor, with his light blue eyes caving underneath the lustrous crown, crisp white beard neatly trimmed. His hand hovered over his wife’s shoulder, smile thin and pale.

Queen Virginia, known for her devout faith and kindness, her amber hair falling in ringlets down to her sides. She sat prim and proper on a ruby-cushioned chair, hands folded prettily, eyes dim.

Princess Alice, the spitting image of her mother, bar her father’s eyes and the last twenty years. Second only to her brother in terms of popularity in the kingdom and out, something distinctly complacent set her brows in such a way you knew instantly why she was desirable to royals and dodged by anyone below them.

And then him.

A part of you hadn’t believed Miss Miriam when she’d called him so.

Your Highness.

But as you looked at him now, standing taller than the rest of his blood, proud and ramrod straight, broad shoulders held back by an invisible force, you knew the portraitist had gotten something wrong.

The hair was right; the golden crown of tousled waves, parted neatly and befitting him far more than any scrap of the earth. The lips, pink and pronounced, and the softness of his brow, and, of course, his posture. All perfect.

But it wasn’t Prince Henry. Not quite.

The eyes. Slate blue and cold, cold, cold. How could the artist have not seen that?

Instead, they were warm and too dark a blue. Almost navy, and gentle, and so soft he almost looked like he was frozen in a smile.

No, no. That wasn’t the Prince Henry you had seen.

Where was the darkness? The cruelty? The evil that shadowed every inch of him?

This was some sterilized version of the crown prince, some unattainable, unreliable, utterly purified visage of him being displayed to the kingdoms in pastime.

He radiated divinity, in and out of the portrait. But without that quality of his that effused danger so potently, you could not help but feel the kingdoms were being sold a lie.

The nervous hiss of your name and a strong grip rattling at your wrist spared you from Prince Henry’s trance once more.

Too much power, he had. Too much… something.

“I get it,” Robin whispered, eyes flitting back and forth as the herd marched on, “completely, I understand. But, you cannot just stand and stare at royalty all day. That’s kind of how you…” she gnawed at the inside of her cheek, “you know, got into your situation in the first place. I’d hate to think what Miss Mule would do if she caught you with a Creel of all people.”

You hesitate to tell her that it was, in fact, a Creel that had gotten you in this position. But if Miss Miriam had decided to hide that information from others, you could only guess there was some merit to hiding that you’d thrown your arms around a prince that was already in high demand.

You had wound up committing one of the worst possible treasons with the worst possible man. You supposed it was quite like learning to swim a day prior and diving into a deep lake the very next day—you’d hit rock-bottom, and you’d only just begun.

To think you shouldn’t already be swinging by your neck right now, face blue and tongue swollen, had the head maid hoarded some minute amount of mercy for you.

That, or she’d known your actions had no great impact upon the integrity of the prince’s pursuits—whether it be accidental or otherwise, Miss Miriam viewed yesterday’s nightmare as a tragic attempt to escape your fate, some sick wishing turned to action wherein you wooed the prince and thus he would marry you.

Of all people. You.

You could retch at the thought.

You’d been raised proper, your parents teaching you well about respect, understanding who deserved it and who did not. They had also taught you that people could be born deserving respect, that it was some inherent betterness of their circumstances that, in turn, warranted curtsies and bowed heads.

Which, in your humble opinion, seemed utter tosh, but so be it. For now, you had a head on your shoulders, feasted somewhat regularly, and slept in warmth. Your clothing had not been sewn by your own hands, and your family was receiving enough coins to not worry about your wellbeing.

No matter that they probably should.

Far be it from you to look gift horses in their mouths, but you felt yourself afforded a nice level of circumspection after your back had been torn to ribbons for a mishap over which you had no control.

You didn’t want to marry the prince. You didn’t want to touch him, and you didn’t want to think about him. And, ignoring all the memories of his larger hands, his blue gaze, his golden strands, and how he may haunt you for years to come, you were quite certain you never wanted to see Prince Henry ever again.

Your back twinged in agreement.

The multitude of fluttering pinafores ahead of you slowed their swishing. Clomping clogs eased into a gentle tapping and finally stopped, and the movements were imparted upon the rest of the maids. A smaller form bumped into your back, and you flinched away, spinning and biting back a cry.

A maid a few years younger than you gaped her mouth, innocence and fear mingling in her expression as brown curls fell over her brow. She seemed so much smaller than the others, more unwitting. Your eyes fell to her hand, a clenched fist in the creases of your skirt, as it hesitatingly fell away.

More distanced shuffling disseminated down the corridor, and you watched the assorted heads of hair in front of you split and separate, clinging to either wall, leaving a wide breadth of distance for someone to pass through. Sunlight filtered between the silent shadows of maids and formed a golden glow of a path.

You followed the others and split off to one side, opposite a window, and grasped blindly for Robin’s hand when she didn’t move to follow. A gentle tug at the fabric of your backside conveyed that the other, younger maid had restored her grip.

From your position, the sun blinded you heavily, and you squinted as a yellow shine overtook everything you saw. White spots splattered your vision when you blinked, but you looked past the maids anyway, curiosity jostling its way down the two lines.

“Your Highness.”

So far ahead, you couldn’t see and only heard Miss Miriam and her staunch and clear-cut announcement. That same loyal tone, somewhat saccharine, frayed your nerves in a second.

The prince?

Curtsies flowed like a wave through the maids, and when you bent low, head bowed, Robin and the young maid followed on either side of you, just as gawky. Nobody rose, and, per Miss Miriam’s orders, nobody would rise until the royalty had passed.

But… dear God, wasn’t it an awful affair that you could tell who it was without even looking? That you could feel a quiet sizzle over the rows of women and girls alike, heard the soft, prideful gait of his finely polished boots.

Back in your village, you’d hated how slowly people could walk. How they’d force you to flounder behind them as they puttered, how they could wander one way and then the other, each footstep a guess. Like they had all the time in the world.

You never would have guessed that a fast pace could be just as troubling. Like he couldn’t stand to be in the same corridor with so many servants, Prince Henry was a brisk wind over the ruby carpets. Even so, you could feel the rise and fall of elation, soft gasps partnered with perfectly timed peeks.

He was a sight to behold—that much had been imprinted on your mind. But he couldn’t possibly be as rumpled as he’d been in the depths of the frosty library, hair thoroughly rakish, white tunic clinging to his golden skin. No; royals held a certain standard of propriety, even as they indulged in the most hedonistic of lifestyles. He must be sheathed in some proper velvet tailcoat, and his face must be severe and sharp, slicing along everything he saw.

Breathtaking in an entirely different way, you were sure.

No, you didn’t look. You couldn’t. You can’t.

Not even as his footsteps approach.

You focus your gaze on your swinging braids, watching them refuse to settle against some unknown breeze. A strain forms in your knuckles with how hard you grip your skirt, and your spine throbs with each heartbeat against the tightened back of your uniform.

Prince Henry slows.

The atmosphere tightens around your little grouping of maids, sun soaking into your black clothing so heavily you can barely breathe.  

We must be in front of a door, some corner he needs to turn to. Something.

Some disturbed pulsing blossoms in your gut when he stops just before you, black boots just inches away. Lithe fingers laden with metal rings hover in your vision.

Prince Henry’s too close all over again.

You want to cry out; you want to say nothing and everything. You want to sink into the furthest recesses of your home miles away just as much as you want to stand at the top of a hill and hold your arms out, waiting for it all.  

Your heart is racing—wild, damned little thing. An insufferable hypocrite after all the ways it had condemned him yesterday for what had happened.

Fingertips, gentle and soft as a single breath, rise and brush over your flaming cheekbone.

A tingle of pain jolts through the bruise so suddenly you flinch away, followed by an indifferent grunt that hangs in the air.

No pity in the sound. No remorse. Barely a hint of acknowledgment.

You want to cradle your cheek and press, hard, at the bridge of your nose, will those wobbling tears to stop. His hand hovers again, twitches near, and, when you lean some scant distance away, falls back to his side.

Within that same second, the boots that hadn’t even turned toward you stalk away. Still fast and proud, no more slows and stops. No more grunts.

But, without a doubt, it was Prince Henry. You’d peeked as the other maids had peeked.

You’d done all that they had done, yet you knew that single touch had doomed you.

That must have been his game. A nice bit of teasing for the maid who'd embraced him; let her be thoroughly beaten down to her station. It was some cruel recognition of what happened to you, some silent sanctioning of a proper punishment.  

Servant does a bad thing; servant gets punished by her peer.

Royal approves. No blood on his hands.

You were right, of course. That portrait was missing Prince Henry’s most vital characteristic: Wickedness.

When the maids rise from their curtsies, trembling thighs and huffed breaths, all eyes fall on you. A range of emotions bombard you before you can rub your cheek.

Wonder.

Awe.

Envy.

And—you can only assume from the thundering footsteps—Miss Miriam’s unparalleled rage.

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[twincaptains]

Obsequium: Part I: Chapter Two - Dipper's September

TITLE: Obsequium Part I: Chapter Two: Dipper’s September PAIRINGS:  Dipford (Ford x Dipper), Bipford, (Bipper x Ford), regular Billford (Bill x Ford) Pinecest (Dipper x Mabel), Stancest, (Stan x Ford), and possibly others. SUMMARY: Dipper writes to Mabel about his experiences back in Gravity Falls. He’s learning a lot! He is also suffering. I’m not sure he’s okay, actually. NOTES: I am posting to Tumblr for now, but eventually will be cross-posting to Ao3. I am in line to get an account, and should have one by the end of the month. Warnings for this chapter – as well as for the rest of the story – under the cut!

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Drug abuse, caregiver neglect, mind control OVERALL WARNINGS: Incest, sibling incest, minor, coercive control, mind control, caregiver neglect, physical abuse, emotional abuse, sexual abuse, dubious consent (dubcon), body horror, suicidal ideation, food restriction, sleep deprivation, self-harm, drug abuse, being drugged, lost time, and I’m going to specifically going to warn for “Ford being cruel to Stanley”, because it made me upset when I wrote it so I want to warn for it. If I forgot anything, please let me know and I will fix it IMMEDIATELY. I will add more if anything else comes up.   Chapter One is here!!

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Sunday, September 4th Heyyyy Mabel!

I'm currently trudging around the woods looking for the source of a mysterious voice. What could go wrong, right? In all seriousness this thing is getting annoying. We'd at least like to find the source, if not a way to get it to be quiet.

I miss you already. It's kinda the worst. Even worse, I can't say that out loud or I'll get a stupid lecture. I love Great Uncle Ford, I really do, but he relates to other people the way a zookeeper relates to their animals. I'm not sure he's ever actually really loved anyone or anything. If he did, he forgot how along the way. I get that he's probably done that to protect himself, but what happens when we finish our work and there's nobody there to clap? I'm slowly trying to reason with him, but he is stubborn. More stubborn than Grunkle Stan, if you can believe that.

I'm really sorry I talked your ear off about that girl I have a crush on. I just hoped you knew what I should do, because I certainly don't. It's true, I can't ever tell her. She can never ever know how I feel. I think I'd literally die, and she'd never speak to me again and I don't think I could handle that. I get to spend so little time around her already that I don't want to risk it. Still. I can't stop thinking about her, even now, in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere, with wet socks and a dwindling supply of trail mix. So I figured ... hey. Why not write to Mabel?

I'm going to try and be more consistent with my letters this fall. I know I tend to sink into my work and time gets away from me, but I've already sat down and marked days in my planner to set time aside to write to you. I've also set eight million reminders in my PDA. Rumor has it that we might be getting an upgraded cell tower in town soon, which means I'll FINALLY be able to TIMEFACE you like a PROPER RESIDENT of the TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY!!!!!

I hope you're doing well in school; I know that math is hard but I believe in you. You just have to try your best, that's all. Your best is always good enough.

Anyway, back to the woods. Hurrah.

Love, Dip

-

Thursday, September 8th

S'up S'up S'up Maaaaaaaaaybeeeeee

So my week has already been weird. Apparently while I was gone, Great Uncle Ford made me this wild VR helmet that's helping me get my mind off that girl I like. I have to admit, it's kinda weird? It's function and purpose is actually a little dystopian, if I'm being honest, but it's really doing the trick for me right now so I'll question it years later when I'm unpacking this portion of my life to a therapist.

It's really freed up my mind in a way that I never thought was possible. Do you remember me telling you I was stuck on some of my school stuff? I got through it this afternoon no problem, like I'd known how to do it the entire time. Breakthroughs like that feel amazing, and are why I keep trying even when I'm struggling with something. I don't know how much I can credit to the VR helmet, or how much to credit myself, but somewhere in the middle I'm really starting to get a grip over here. As long as I don't trip and fall, I should be golden.

Bill's influence is still all over the place. I really hate it. I have tried, time and time again, to talk to Great Uncle Ford about my experiences with Bill and how they've messed me up, but he doesn't really seem interested. Or rather, it makes him actively uncomfortable. I don't know what he's hiding about his relationship with Bill, but it makes him want to throw up. I don't know who he thinks he's fooling, but it’s kinda obvious, right? Am I imagining things? They had a thing, right? Why wouldn't he want me to know that? We also had a thing ... sorta ... it's not like I wouldn't understand??? He just doesn't want to tell me too much. He doesn’t trust me.

Why not??????

I've worked insanely hard to prove myself and even now he still keeps me juuuust outside of the loop. It's really starting to grind my gears, I'm almost an adult and I should be treated like one. I'll just keep being a Good Little Assistant until he lets me inside of his head. Things will only improve from there.

I think I'm gonna try and sneak a nap. I'm weirdly tired lately, maybe it's the light changing.

Love, Dip

-

Monday, September 12th

Yo! Mabel!

I'm sinking my teeth into some new subjects for school and I'm having a really great time with it so far! I get to make three-dimensional models that have hidden fourth, fifth, and sixth dimensional sides -- it's absolutely wild and I cannot wait to start arranging my first array. You know how I feel about complex shapes, I'm going to have an amazing time with this.

Things with hidden dimensions are just so cool, Mabel. I think you'd really like them, because they're so beautiful -- like genuinely pretty. They remind me of how you doodle in your notebooks, especially in the margins. Can you doodle in the margins of your next reply a bit? Dumb thing to ask, I know, but I miss them. I even miss them showing up in MY notebooks. I'm sorry if I ever yelled at you for doing that.

To answer your questions about the VR Helmet: 1. It's called the OBSEC... bunchanumbers. Nothing cool. 2. I have no idea how it works, I just know what it does. 3. What it does is kinda really embarrassing, so I'm gonna try and do my best to get my point across without passing out or throwing this letter in the garbage. Basically, it lets you sorta play through little... scenarios, anything you could think of, and along with that comes a certain level of .... biochemical involvement. That is to say, your brain pumps a bunch of feel-good chemicals into your bloodstream because it thinks you're doing something fun -- even though you're really not! This is helping me become more focused and less distracted by my teenaged-boyness. Obviously, given my performance at school lately. Feels like I'm cheating the system somehow??? But I think that's the entire point.

One more thing: Have you been calling Grunkle Stan at all? He seems really, really lonely. Worse than usual. He's been leaving Great Uncle Ford messages on his answering machine this whole time, but in the last few months he's gone from calling a few times a week, to calling every day, sometimes twice. Great Uncle Ford won't even listen to the messages, he makes me delete them for him. Playing armchair psych here; I think he feels kinda bad about what a jerk he's being, but isn't ready to admit that yet. Hearing Stan's voice, and knowing that Stan refuses to just ... hate him the way Great Uncle Ford wants him to ... it's starting to get to him. I see cracks like that here and there, which is why I'm not giving up hope that they can maybe patch things up someday. I think Great Uncle Ford needs to figure out that he can trust us, and that he'll be safe here if he does.

Anyway. Miss you, love you ... all that stuff.

Love, Dip

-

Thursday, September 15th

Mabel

I wanna die right now. My unyeilding rage won't allow it.

I was really getting into my coursework, and I asked Great Uncle Ford if he had anything to keep me up a bit longer because I felt like I was close to figuring something out and didn't want to lose it if I went to bed. I see him take stuff all the time, and he had no qualms about handing me ... something.

What I expected was Adderall. Or at least, something LIKE that, you know?? I took those for years! They caused more problems than they solved, sure, but that was because I was taking them long-term. This was supposed to be a one-off thing, a normal all-nighter.

It was not like that. It was not like that at all.

Worst anxiety attack of my life. I don't have the capacity to calculate exactly how long I was awake? But it was too long, and I'm mad that I'm awake right now.

The worst part about all of this? Great Uncle Ford acted like this was somehow MY fault. Like I'm some kind of wimp for reacting badly to mystery space drugs. Like I lied to him about what I could tolerate, or something. He just stood there and huffed at me, shaking his head and asking me "Are you done?" about every 15 minutes.

I'm currently not speaking to him. At least not today. Maybe not tomorrow, either. He resents that I'm angry at him for not giving me any type of warning about what that drug was about to do to me, I assumed I was about to become awake and alert -- not achieve nirvana by being fired out of a canon at mach fuck straight into a glass wall. Very annoyed. Very annoyed that he's acting this way.

I think I'm going to have to get him back for this, somehow. I'll need to bide my time, but he'll regret the way he tutted at me like I was some kind of preschooler throwing a tantrum.

Love, Dip

-

Sunday, September 18th

-Maybee Baby- Ms. Mabel Mack,

Got a little sick and tired of the mood in the house being so chilly, so I offered an olive branch of sorts: using my audio equipment to try and capture those whispers we keep hearing. Great Uncle Ford said we should go out looking for them (I think he was just hoping to change the subject), and I countered with staying near the house and using my stuff to make sure we're hearing what we think we're hearing.

I was right, we didn't need to go out in the woods. We heard a lot last night, and I definitely got some on my recorders. Enough, in fact, that it was worth coming out for a second night. That's what I'm doing now, well, that and writing to you.

The whispers are making me uneasy, but in a way that makes me want to keep pursuing them, you know? I feel like that once I figure them out, a lot of other things will start to make sense. Not exactly THE answers I'm looking for, but the thing that's going to set me on the path that takes me to them. For the time being I'm grateful they've been getting us out of the house. I spent so much of the summer inside and underground. You saw me! Was I the crimson adonis I usually am? No. Pale as dough. And I'm only going to get paler as winter creeps in. I may be translucent by Christmas.

You said you've been e-mailing some old friends? Heard back from anyone? I sometimes run into people when I go into town, but nobody seems to want to talk to me. I think they're mad, and I guess they have a right to be, but it really reinforces how alone I am out here. I honestly thought it would take me less than a year to get Great Uncle Ford to see the light and reconcile with Grunkle Stan.

I really miss you.

Love,

   D I      P -

Tuesday, September 20th

Mabel

I'm so fucking angry right now that I want to scream. Grateful for the Screaming Closet Great Uncle Ford installed the first summer we were here, I'll tell you that much. I had to try and keep calm and be reasonable so that I didn't explode, WHICH WAS THE WORST.

UGH.

Oh. My god.

I caught him researching restraining orders. You can guess why, and for who. I don't even want to put it in writing because it's just going to make me angry all over again. I can't fucking believe him.

I don't know what it is, but he seems extra moody and distant lately -- and get this, he accuses me of the same thing. Yeah, you know what? I AM a little peevish. Miffed, even. And lately he's doing and saying things that make me not want to be around him, so I've been distant. I also have a lot on my mind that has nothing to do with anything in particular, but it's taking up time and space so I'm a little short on change for the Putting Up With His Bullshit Express.

As if that weren't enough, guess who's analyzing ALL of the audio we recorded over the weekend by himself? I had three devices running for almost 20 hours total over two days. Ghost Hunter Plumbers don't have to work under these conditions. Neither do the guys from Dudebro Ghost Show. He could very easily help but he is choosing not to, and I think that's what makes me the maddest, out of all of it.

He isn't great with computers? Not hopeless, but very rigid and unwilling to exit his comfort zone, which is a weird combination of things we haven't done in 30 years and things we won't be doing for another 200. I don't think my Fruitbook would be that hard to figure out, they're made to be intuitive, but what's intuitive for everyone else generally isn't for Great Uncle Ford. I think he gets embarrassed about that and would rather pretend it's beneath him than reveal he's bad at it.

Lots to think about. Aiee.

Love, Dip

-

Thursday, September 22nd

Mabelfish,

I'm doing a lot better, thanks. Especially since someone sent me a five pound bag of blue raspberry BubbHeddz.

Thank you, by the way.

I'm finishing up my analysis of all that audio I recorded, and I wish I could say I felt good about it. There is a message buried in the sounds we've been hearing, flipped and reversed -- so that we'd have to work to find it. The weirdest part is that I know, deep down inside, that this message isn't for me. It's for Great Uncle Ford.

"You'll trip and fall right in to me."

Is this why he's been acting weird lately? Is he at risk of a Bill relapse? I dunno. I almost don't want to tell him, but I know I should. Who knows, maybe this will shift his focus away from being mean to Grunkle Stan and back to being mean to Bill.

I'm gonna sleep on these findings and see how they feel in the morning.

Love, Dip

-

Monday, September 26th

Mabes,

I went a little longer than I usually like to without writing, but I was on a roll with my schoolwork. I haven't felt that 'in-the-zone' in a REALLY long time. Up until the end of last year, I hadn't really had much trouble with anything Great Uncle Ford threw at me. These last few subjects though, woof. I know they're going to be important later on, at least -- that's what Great Uncle Ford says, and I kinda have to trust him on that.

Shame that trusting him is harder and harder to do lately, but what can you do?

In addition to advancing my studies, we had to do some cleanup around the property. It's funny, I used to hate doing stuff like that, but I had a great time being outside and getting fresh air. I still ache in places I didn't even know it was possible to ache, but it's a GOOD ache, one that accomplished something. It certainly keeps my body from acting in ways I don't want it to.

Not that that's a problem I usually have! My body is definitely fine and I am in complete control of it at all times. But between my sleep being all weird and that pill I took earlier this month, I feel a little less than square sometimes. I'd like to say stress is also a factor, but with the OBSEC-8177 I'm not really experiencing a whole lot of stress. When I do, it's temporary, and usually Great Uncle Ford's fault.

I think you'd like the OBSEC-8177 a lot. If you're ever allowed to visit here you can give it a try. I doubt Great Uncle Ford would let me take something like this out of the house, so you'd have to come here. We should figure out a way to make that happen.

Love, Diiip

-

Thursday, September 29th

Maybe it's Mabel,

Against my better judgement, I'm sitting here decoding more audio. Great Uncle Ford grabbed my recording devices and started rolling when I stepped inside for a little bit and, unfortunately, he caught some things.

More backmasked talking, and it makes me feel kinda gross. It's nothing particularly threatening, though definitely threatening, it's just layered with a certain level of ... familiarity, I'll call it. It kinda comes off as flirty?? But that doesn't seem right, does it? Maybe I can somehow regain access to my e-mail and I can send you these clips so you can see what I mean.

It is 100% Bill, by the way. It wouldn't be the first time we've received weird little voice notes from him, but these are different than anything we've encountered in the past. Real "the call is coming from inside the house" vibes: "Don't be so sure." and "I'm closer than you think." Personally, I think we should stop engaging ... but Bill is making that hard. I have found that vocally acknowledging these noises makes them quiet down for a bit, but the longer you go without confronting them the louder they become. I think we should probably try and figure out a way to fortify the house a bit better? Hard to bring that kind of thing up, because Great Uncle Ford gets really tetchy if you imply something he's done isn't good enough.

Can it be Thanksgiving yet?

Love, Dip