#damn I could write a whole novel here I love tags

[hvezdnastreka]

WIP i'm probably never going to finish, because IT'S ANOTHER KLAUZURA SEASON BABYYYYY!!!!

^^(a black and white walk cycle animation of a girl, who's legs aren't drawn yet ) GET CONCEPT ARTED LOSER (This time we're making concepts for our own video game! :) )

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Sky Full of Stars - Chapter Seven.

Second update is here, besties! This is basically shaping up to be a novel, the 20th chapter just begun in the writing and I am loving every last second of creating their story! Just to note, too, the song Picses that is mentioned is a real song, by the band Jinjer, the musical claim for Jade's voice and Seventh Gate on a whole. Give it a listen, it's beautiful.

Big thanks to my tiny audience for your commitment to reading. I see a few of you liking it but remaining quiet. I would so love to hear from you, if you'd be so kind to drop a little comment, and even better, add a reblog to help me get a bit more exposure. Thanks guys :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 4,047

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

“Ahh, he has arrived. Dogs, come on. This show of frenzy is not becoming of you.”  

Patrick Brody; he could never just greet someone with a simple hello, letting his son into the house on Christmas morning. He at least gave Adrien a big hug while he was being dived all over by two very excitable Pit Bull terriers, though.  

“Merry Christmas, pop,” he spoke with affection, his dad nodding and smiling. 

“Same extended in return. Now, your mother is in the kitchen, if you will excuse me, I am slowly working myself through what’s left of my Tanqueray while I ruminate on Keats and a little Joy Division. It’s great to see you, though. I’ll be out when the food is done.”  

Ahh, he was in one of his moods, chasing a slither of melancholy. Why he’d chosen Christmas morning to do such was beyond Adrien, but he was used to the strange habits of his fiercely intellectual father. The last time he’d visited, it was Sangria paired with The Rolling Stones and a book on the art of John Williams Waterhouse.  

Truly, there was nobody like his father. Or his mother.  

“Is that my boy?”  

“Sure is,” Adrien called, placing the large bag of gifts he’d brought beneath the tree in the lounge, walking down to the kitchen to see her emerge, her arms held wide. “Merry Christmas, ma.” 

“Merry Christmas, my love,” she spoke, pulling him into a hug. “Is your father still absconding?” 

“He is,” he confirmed, giving the dogs a little more attention before following her down the hall. 

“You know, I thought he’d get out of that whole tortured artist bit when he hit thirty,” Lois voiced, hurrying back into the kitchen to check on the gaggle of pots occupying the stove. “Never damned well happened!” Turning the burners down, she glided to the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of wine with raised eyebrows. “I got this or beer? Up to you.”  

“I’ll take a beer, but let me, mom. You have enough to do, or I can stir something?” He made a move off the high stool, watching his mother race towards him, waving her hands. 

“You will stay away from the cooker, Adrien Nicholas Brody!” she warned, unscrewing the top and handing him the bottle. “You’re a liability.” 

His face was a picture of affronted. “Says the woman who’s set fire to her own hair how many times?”  

Pointing at him, she waved her finger, starting to laugh softly in spite of herself. “Fucking smart ass, is what you are.”  

“I get it from you, ma,” he teased, reaching for Ginsberg’s giant head when the dog made it clear he required further petting, Bukowski pottering around in the hallway, shaking the hell out of a brand-new chew toy. Moving over to the balcony, he turned the key and slid the door, letting himself out into the cold Christmas morning, lighting up a cigarette. 

“Still smoking, huh?” his mother observed, raising an eyebrow. 

“Don’t start bitching. Not with how many you used to chain a day,” he warned, raising an eyebrow.  

Picking up her wine, she felt confident to leave the food for five minutes, joining him out on the balcony. “Wasn’t going to. I could do with one. Gimme.” Rummaging in his pocket, he pulled the pack out, Lois taking one and leaning to the light he offered, the smell of the lighter fluid mixing pleasantly with the tobacco. Taking a long drag, she immediately looked more blissful.  

“Oh, full tar. Good boy,” she sighed, kissing his shoulder as she rubbed his arm. 

“Not my choice, I stole them from my girlfriend,” he confessed, watching her eyes widen. 

“Excuse me, son of mine?” Her exclamation was coupled with the usual wild gesticulating, arms flying expressively. “Girlfriend, you just drop that in there casually, that there’s a girlfriend on the scene now?”  

He laughed softly through his nose, looking out across the white landscape below. “Yeah, there’s a girlfriend. It’s been three and a half months now.”  

Lois wound her hand expectantly. “And? Name, age, what does she do? Please don’t tell me it’s another bullshit model who doesn’t know shit from Shinola. I can’t bear the idea of you bringing another pretty dullard into my goddamned house!” 

“You liked Sofia,” he protested. 

“Sofia was well read, she was interested in other cultures, she’d travelled. She was an anomaly. Anyway, we don’t talk about her any longer! Tell me about the girl,” she demanded, her eyes full of excitement. 

“Her name is Jade, she’s thirty-one, and she’s the vocalist for a band called Seventh Gate. And she acts as well.”  

Lois paused, her wine glass almost reaching her mouth, her other hand moving to grip, and then softly shake his forearm. “You’re dating Jade Burton?” 

Wait. How did his mother even know who she was? “Hold on, you know who she is?” 

Her finger thrust towards the kitchen, her entire arm waving. “That new canvas I have out in the hallway? I painted that listening to Black Electric Wasteland.”  

Their second album, but how... how did his mother know that? “Who are you, and what have you done with Lois?” 

“Oh, come on! You know I listen to rock! I’ve got Sabbath and Def Leopard albums in my collection,” she exclaimed, taking another drag on her cigarette. 

“Yeah, but Seventh Gate is way heavier than that. It’s the musical equivalent of having a safe dropped on your head.”  

She snorted into her wine glass. “And how the hell do you know? You only listen to music made by fellas with gold teeth who wear jeans nine sizes too big!”  

He couldn’t help but snort a laugh at that. “Because that’s how I met her. I got talked to going to the Rock and Iron festival with Lewis while I was in LA. The first time I met Jade was when she jumped onto the barrier and screamed about in an inch from my face.” That particular revelation delighted his mother, imagining it. He went on to explain a little more, how he’d met her properly backstage, thought she was incredible and swiftly decided in a moment of madness to join the tour for a week.  

“Good for you, god! You didn’t do anything like this in your teens, you were always so focused. Why not in your thirties? And look what came of it, you’re dating a legend! Oh, mother of pearl, that girl’s voice!” Flicking her finished cigarette over the rail, she bustled back inside, locating her phone and swiping around, putting it in the dock and pressing play. “I love this song. Pisces. Please tell me you’ve heard it?” 

He had, since it had been in their setlist on tour. They stood silently as they listened to the opening bars, Lois softly singing along to the melodic opening, clasping a hand to her chest. “I adore her! All of them, such talented girls!” 

Adrien was still stuck in the realms of huge surprise that his mother had not only heard of Seventh Gate, but was a fan, too, when the kitchen door opened, his father walking in.  

“Interesting harmonies, and the chord progression is stunning work. Who is this?” 

“Adrien’s girlfriend and her band. They’re the girls whose music inspired my painting!” Lois replied with enthusiasm, continuing to softly sing as her husband topped up his gin. “You’ll never believe what he did, Patrick. Meets her at a show and then, he just hops on a tour bus with her for a week. Just like that!” 

His father paused, eyebrows raised. “You and five women absconded to a bus for a week,” he mused, sipping his gin. “A lesser man might make a joke about such setting tongues wagging, but it feels a little too low brow.” Another sip of gin was taken. “How is your tongue, by the way?” 

Patrick Brody; he was a man entirely too witty for his own good.  

Adrien closed his eyes, slowly shaking his head. “You’re fucking terrible.” 

“I’m an effervescent delight. And you? You’ve now officially cemented yourself as a groupie.” Closing the fridge, he stood for a moment, tapping his foot as he continued to listen. “Yes. I like it, mmhmm.” 

Adrien couldn’t help but grin. “Just wait for the chorus.”  

His dad looked curious for all of five seconds, before the tempo changed drastically, both musically and vocally. “What in the?” he exclaimed, wide eyed, scratching his chin. “That’s a woman?”  

“Yep,” Adrien confirmed, “that’s my girl.” 

He listened a little longer, sipping his drink. “Does she need a priest? It sounds like she has a demon.” 

Immediately, Lois pointed at the door. “Get out of my kitchen at once, you lousy philistine!” Their little double act had their only child laughing quietly, thinking his dad truly wasn’t all too wrong. After all, he’d likened that ripsaw roar to something hell had spat up too upon first hearing it. “When can I meet her?” 

He knew he’d have that question directed at him sooner rather than later. “I’ll arrange something with her and get back to you. I have five weeks before I’m away again, we can come over one afternoon, or meet you guys in the city?”  

“I’d love that, yes. So, tell me more about her, then,” she requested, her eyes lighting up. She could see it so clearly, how smitten her son was. “She’s British, isn’t she?” 

“British-Sicilian. She was born in Palermo. Arrived three months earlier than expected while her mom was over there visiting family, backpacking with her dad.” 

“Oh!” she cried, resting a hand to her chest. “She was a little preemie baby? How dear.” 

“Yeah,” he confirmed, “almost didn’t make it, weighed about three pounds when she was born. I like to think she defied all the odds stacked against her, though.” He smiled, thinking of her fortitude, her toughness to do the job that she did, and at the standard she did it. “She’s the strongest woman I’ve ever met.” 

Lois studied him for a moment, beginning to nod. Finally, he’d met the one who she sensed wouldn't be going anywhere in a hurry. “I’m going to love her, aren’t I?”  

Watching that sly smile, he looked away for a moment, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Yeah. You really, really are.” She left all talk of the new girl there, going back to the cooker and inquiring over how everything else was in her son’s life as she stirred and tinkered.  

Meanwhile, over in Harlem, Jade found herself in a similar surrounding. Except in her family, you pitched in, or you got the hell out of the way. 

“Steven!” Gemma yelled, her husband jumping a foot in the air. “If I have told you once, I have told you a million times, stop stealing the turkey skin!” 

“Why? You don’t like it, Rachel is a fussy vegan, Jade doesn’t care, and Marco isn’t even here. Allow a man to have his simple pleasures, my little snap dragon,” he teased, winking when his daughters began to laugh, Jade making a snappy motion with her hand towards the back of her mother’s head. It was very weird, for her brother not to be there, this year staying in LA with his new boyfriend, Jack and his family.  

“Your parents like it, and I finally have the skin nice and crisp, so it’ll give your mother one less thing to complain about,” she replied, physically hip bumping Jade down a little as she poured cream into the potatoes, ready to mash into a pulp.  

“Go, go on, out of my way!” 

“You called me in to carve the bird, Gemma,” he reminded her, taking the large knife the younger of his daughter’s passed over to him.  

“Well then do it instead of standing there slowly making a start on eating it!” 

Jade quickly finished her potato-based endeavours, reaching for the bottle of scotch on the side, topping up her mother’s glass and adding ice from the fridge dispenser. “Mum, drink that before you give yourself a heart attack and thus make dad have to work on his day off.”  

“Open heart surgery on the tiles with a carving knife,” he chimed, examining the blade. “I think I could make do.”  

The family all paused to laugh, Gemma taking the drink passed to her gratefully, wrapping her arm around her daughter’s waist. “Thanks, buba.” Taking a sip, she then widened her eyes. “Rachel!” Check what time we’re on. I need to put the beans on at the very last minute, so they don’t overcook.”  

“Can’t, mama. My phone is in the lounge.” 

“Check mine,” Jade spoke, “It’s on the counter.”  

Illuminating the screen, Rachel took in the time, as well as something else notable. “It’s two twenty-one, and sis, why do you have a picture of Adrien Brody as your screen lock? Are you fangirling?” 

“No,” she beamed, “but I am dating him. That’s the news I had to share before I got wrapped up in the Christmas chaos.”  

Immediately, her right eardrum was almost blown out. “What the utter bloody hell, Jade Lucia? You’re... and... seriously? Adrien Brody, really?” 

“Mum, you’re making it sound like he has two heads, or like I have. I’m not sure which is worse,” she chirped, reaching for her wine and taking a big gulp.  

Gemma nudged her with a soft elbow. “That isn’t what I meant, and you know it! So, come on. Tell us everything!” 

“Not everything,” her dad mumbled, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well, I wanna know everything,” Rachel piped up, nodding towards the door. “Get out, dad. I wanna hear if he’s good in bed or not.”  

He instantly looked mildly mortified, scrunching his eyes tightly shut. “Pretending I didn’t hear that,” he sang, shaking his head, “wishing you were still two and six instead of these grown women who let penises near you.”  

Jade almost choked on her wine for her laughter, Steven finishing his very neat and precise carving, nothing less than anybody expected for a surgeon to accomplish. “I am leaving you to your women’s talk. I shall be in the lounge, eating my nougat.”  

As soon as he was gone, two sets of eyes turned to her. “Tell us everything!” they both spoke at once, Gemma especially excited as she bounced on her heels a little. Her darling mother still had that silliness of youth about her, a very young fifty. With preparations all done for the moment, they stood and listened as Jade regaled them with the story, even grabbing her phone to show them the picture taken literally at the exact moment they’d first met, Jade bellowing a scream right in his face.  

“What, so he just blew off his commitments and got on a bus with you?” her mother cried, sipping her drink, looking absolutely delighted. 

“He did, and yeah. We fell in love,” she confessed, beaming as they cooed, Rachel moving to hug her. 

“That’s about the cutest thing I’ve ever heard! Aww!” she spoke, kissing her sister’s cheek fondly. “You’re keeping it quiet, I gotta say. Haven’t seen any pictures of you guys together in the press or anything.” 

“Well, we haven’t been out together much,” she admitted, fiddling with her necklace, one he bought for her three days previously when he came back into the city. “There have been a couple, though.” A little lament sounded in her sigh, knowing of course it would happen sooner or later, being that she was relatively well known, and Adrien of course very famous. “Thank fuck there wasn’t any after what happened with Jen. Nobody got pictures of him there, which I’m glad of. I don’t want anything like that possibly impacting him negatively.” 

Gemma’s eyes widened. “He was there when it happened?” 

Gulping at the memory of that terrifying day, she fortified herself with a mouthful of wine. “He was. He’s the one who found her. He saved her life.”  

The eldest of the Burton women let out a little gasp, covering her mouth with her hand. “God above, I can’t imagine how I’d react.” 

“Horrible as it was for him, he was probably the best person to find her,” she admitted, “he’s very steady and pragmatic, very calm. He doesn’t get flustered easily at all. I doubt any of us would have thought to check for her stash, Jess’s weed too and get rid of it so nobody got arrested and made an already nightmarish situation a thousand times worse.” 

“What a good guy, wow. And how is my beautiful Jen now?” Gemma asked. Jen had always been her favourite, looking at the kitchen table and being able to picture her there, drumming upon the surface with a couple of pencils as a gawky, fifteen-year-old kid with bright pink hair. That very brownstone was where Seventh Gate had begun, their rehearsals confined to the basement, the girls all coming over after school every day to practice for hours. 

Jade smiled, remembering her last phone call with her. “She’s doing okay. The first week withdrawing was hell, but better than it could have been since she wasn’t a long-term, substantial user. She’s doing the twenty-eight-day program but is open to staying longer if she feels like she needs to.”  

Feeling a little teary, she took a breath, stilling the little emotional vortex that began to swirl. Of course, true to her nature, she only let herself feel it momentarily before she hardened herself. “I’m so proud of her. She was just like, ‘I have a problem and I need to get help in fixing it, because I ain’t going out like that, I’m not scaring you guys that bad ever again’, so checked herself into Urban Recovery in Brooklyn as soon as she got back to the city.” 

She remembered how small and broken she’d looked the day after her overdose, seeing here there in hospital, trying to remain upbeat. Jen never cried, the epitome of a tough New York girl, but as soon as she’d seen Adrien, she’d burst into tears, apologising for putting him through something like that and thanking him over and over for saving her life.  

Speaking of the man himself, after they had both spent the day with their families, they met up again that evening at Jade’s apartment in the West Village, Adrien flecked with a sprinkling of snow as he arrived. Christmas in New York was her favourite time of the year, loving watching it tumble from the sky through the two floor to ceiling windows in her living room.  

The space was airy and light, yet sumptuously cozy, candles dotted around lighting every surface, a very big but tastefully decorated tree in the corner of the apartment, the warm white lights twinkling beautifully against the minimal ornaments. They shared a bottle of red wine while exchanging gifts, Jade buying him a whole heap of things she knew he liked, his favourite perhaps being a little crochet doll of a bald, bespectacled man in an orange robe on a bicycle. It took him a good five minutes to stop laughing. 

“His holiness on a bicycle, oh god, I love it!” he hissed, reaching for the last gift in the pile.  

“Now this one has had me riddled with anxiety over whether you’ll like it or not, and I just have to hope to hell that you do!” she spoke, Adrien opening the paper with curiosity, pulling out a white label record from within.  

“The boy from Queens?” he spoke, looking at the title written on there with a Sharpie, nothing else denoting anything. “Who’s it by?” 

Pointing at her record player in the corner, she smiled. “It’s an original collaboration. Put it on and find out.” Heaving himself off the couch, he walked over and did exactly that, placing the vinyl down atop the player and switching it on, carefully lining the needle up. As soon as he heard the opening beats, he spun to stare at her.  

“What did you do, Burtie?” he spoke, his smile beginning to spread. His mouth then fell open completely, hearing the vocal intro that was Method Man himself, dropping rhymes over his beats.  

Burtie. She loved that particular cute little nickname, breathing a huge sigh of relief at his reaction. “I played him some samples of those beat tracks you sent me, shared a few lyrical ideas to tailor it, added to it, and we recorded it upstairs after you’d left last week. You do not even want to know how much it cost me to get it pressed at such short notice as a one off, but you’re worth every cent, my darling.” 

Standing there listening, the clever lyrics all relating to him, he was floored. Utterly stunned. “This is the best gift anyone has ever gotten me!” he spoke, nodding his head, “damn, that’s so sick! Baby, thank you so much. Seriously, this is the best.”  

“Isn’t it, though? And you’re welcome,” she beamed, elated that he was enjoying something she’d worked so hard on collaboratively. It was always great to hang out with her friend, having Clifford there for nineteen hours straight working on it. Getting to work with him on something so personal up in her little recording space had been an unforgettable experience, though.  

Once the track had finished, he came back over to her, lifting up the large gift he’d brought for her, giving her a kiss before sitting down beside where she was comfortably resting in her gigantic bean bag. “Here, I’d say I hope you’ll like it, but I know you definitely will.”  

Taking it from him, she propped it back against her large coffee table, picking at the corner before gently tearing the paper. The squeak that bubbled in her throat as she clasped a hand over her mouth made his stomach prickle with joy, watching her so excited.  

“Oh my life!” More of the canvas was revealed, Jade flapping her hands as she bounced a little, eyes widening. “Oh my fucking god, Adrien!”  

“And I’m deaf. Again,” he joked, pushing a finger against his ear and giving it a little wiggle to stop the ringing her scream had evoked.  

Her mouth hung open, looking between him and the painting, more noises of approval sounding. “You bought me a Beksinski original?” 

Zdzislaw Beksinski was her favourite artist, the Polish painter and photographer whose medium was dark and macabre, the original painting discovered by Adrien after scouring the internet, finding it for sale through a private collector. It had been worth every single ounce of hassle in getting it shipped over from Germany, the insurance, the customs debacle, the mild heart attack he’d suffered at hearing it might not arrive in time for Christmas, just to see the look of such pure, unfiltered happiness on her face.  

“He... he touched this,” she whispered, her fingers gently gliding over the ridges of the oil paint, every swirl and groove, shaking her head in amazement. “Baby, I love it. Thank you! Come here, my handsome mans.” Pulling him into her arms, she showered him with kisses, utterly delighted to have received such a thoughtful gift. She shuddered to think what he must have shelled out for it. Beksinski’s work went for tens of thousands.  

Admiring it as she leaned back against his chest, she honestly couldn’t remember the last Christmas she’d felt quite as elated as she did in that moment, in the arms of her love, cozy and warm as outside, the snow continued to cover Manhattan in a thick blanket of glistening white.  

“I got you something else, too.” Picking up a small package, he handed it to her, Jade feeling something she instantly recognised within. Pulling it out, there in her hand lay a looped up, long coil of dark blue bondage rope, her grin widening so much, he couldn’t help but laugh softly.  

“Put your hand in my bra right now and check out what just seeing this has done to my nipples.” He obliged, giving the left one a little stroke. It was like a bullet. “Okay we’re going to bed right now.”  

It was the exact reaction he’d been looking for. 

[mxtxfanatic]

Because I saw that 7seas released the first volume, I'm very curious of what you thought about the disabled tyrant's pet palm fish? I wasn't sure what your tag for it is, assuming you've posted about it here. If you have any thoughts I'd love to hear them since, as of this moment in time, I'm planning on picking up a copy next time I get the chance.

Of course you pick the novel I was conflicted about promoting LOL

So I read it and mostly liked it, like, a majority of the book is comedic and engaging. The beginning really gives a Cinderella-esque romance along with some mild court drama. Definitely a light read that won’t leave you too anxious or in suspense.

However I feel like ableism is baked into the plot in a way that becomes unbearably inescapable around the last 2-300 pages. It sat with me pretty unpleasantly that that love interest’s disability (mutism) is never accommodated in the entire story, not even by the people who love him in the setting, not even by his transmigrating husband who I know for damn sure knows sign language exists even if he doesn’t know it. They could have found some way to communicate with him that didn’t involve him mouthing words, writing, or having people just learn to read his micro-expressions, of which only one person can do so. I was willing to table these reservations because, despite the story pretending like disability accommodations don’t exist, the people who love this character never make him feel bad or less for it. Then those last few hundred pages hit…

Spoilers for some plot stuff: So the biggest issue for me that tipped the ableism into unbearable emerges with the sideplot of the main couple trying for another kid. MC wants a girl because they already have 4 boys (accidental quadruplets), only to discover that LI has been secretly taking contraceptives to prevent another pregnancy for fear that any pregnancy could result in a mute child, as he thinks his mutism is genetic. The couple end up having a good talk where the LI opens up about his insecurities about having a child like him because he knows how lonely it was growing up with his disability. But instead of turning this into a moment where MC could point out that their hypothetical disabled child wouldn’t be lonely because they would have a whole family who loved them—including a parent with the same disability—that LI should not have been isolated because of his disability, that he was the one who was failed not the failure, and that he (and their hypothetical disabled child) will be supported from now on, the author… has the MC agree and stop trying for a kid… Complete missed opportunity and waste of time in the long run, because not long after this it gets revealed that LI’s mutism isn’t genetic, which is why their 4 sons have no speech issues, and they go on happily to have their daughter. End Spoilers.

If you didn’t read the spoilers, then long story short: a side plot with eventual major implications for the main story arc treats preventing the birth of potentially disabled children as a reasonable thing because “those children will be isolated, otherwise,” while neglecting the idea that people—PARTICULARLY LOVED ONES OF THE DISABLED—can simply accommodate said disability. The story simply pretends as if accommodations for mutism do not exist in material reality or even as a concept.

[galwithalibrarycard]

My New Who watchthrough has now reached well into the second half of Series 7, and it’s time for some Opinions:

- I’m gay for Clara Oswald already. Also I crackship her with Amy Pond and I will be reading all the fanfic.

- I don’t care for River Song.

- Okay, no, hear me out, River’s an interesting character and I like Alex Kingston, but I can’t stand how her entire character bit is a constant smug-ass “I know something you don’t know”, and her whole arc felt kind of anticlimactic. Also, I don’t buy for a second that she and Eleven have an actual romantic relationship. I don’t see the spark. It’s all offscreen if it happens at all, so I don’t care. Bringing me to…

- Eleven/Amy/Rory OT3 is the superior ship of the Smith years. Platonic found family or romantic messy awkward polyamory, either way they’re very sweet together and I’d rather watch them than River any day. You can also have asexual Eleven in there, which I can really see why people headcanon. I want to call them “ot3: the power of three” but I feel like the threes sound redundant. Oh whatever, I’m calling it, that’s the ship tag I’m using.

- If it wasn’t for the weird Doctor/River romance, you could totally say that River’s Time Lord DNA makes Amy, Rory, and Eleven ALL her parents, and I’m annoyed that canon makes it more than a little weird to consider that headcanon concept, because it could be cute in another world.

- I like the Ponds a lot, but I have to say: Amy and Rory’s ending felt like such an arbitrary “we’re obligated to make the separation from the Doctor permanent, what monster can we use to do that?” ass-pull of a writing choice. In my head, Amy and Rory’s arc ends with them staying on Earth in 2012 at the end of The Power of Three and enjoying the mundane life they built together. Just say the Doctor sends them postcards and visits offscreen once in a while. The characters don’t have to be walled off from the Doctor forever just because the actors never want to come back to the show. I really like the idea of them choosing their own life outside the TARDIS, almost Martha-style. (Gotta love Martha!)

- It feels cheap to take Amy’s kid away and then not bother to give her an emotional arc dealing with that trauma. Same for Rory, for that matter. I bet someone could write or has written some extremely deep fanfic about that. I don’t know that I want to read it but I want it to exist, if that makes sense. And I would’ve liked to see more of it onscreen.

- The episode with the Gunslinger is OOC garbage, the Doctor would never use a gun, learn the show’s lore, Steve.

- So many little “what straight white man did this???” moments in Moffat era. It’s like going on a nice walk and then every once in a while you find yourself walking through a surprise cloud of gnats. (Not that Davies era was completely blameless either but damn.)

- Eleven’s “retirement” and hopeless disillusionment in The Snowmen feels like a flat, rushed, emotionless retread of the far superior arc of Ten going dark and mad with grief and his god complex across his last four specials. Ten did it better.

- Speaking of which, godDAMN the Tenth Doctor’s send off was good. I miss him forever and I need all his audio dramas and tie-in novels yesterday.

- While we’re on that, I have FEELINGS about Tenrose and Tentoorose and how they’re the same exact ship but also two completely different ships, but I’m still tagging them both as “otp: I believe in her” and no one can stop me. (They could have had a house with a mortgage AND still traveled in the TARDIS on weekends, I’m just saying.) (They are PEAK ROMANCE and I’m never recovering.)

- Lotta concrit here but that being said, I really do love Eleven, he’s a sweet adorable lil bean. I’m gonna miss him so much too. Can’t believe I only have a handful of his episodes left! There’s so much good stuff in here, truly. Vincent and the Doctor! The Power of Three! 🥹 I also really liked Dinosaurs on a Spaceship, even though the longer you look at it, the more Problems you see. Those are my standouts off the top of my head.

- We are now well into the era of New Who I’ve never seen any of and know basically nothing about, so no spoilers please!

- I’ve also never seen any of Classic Who, so be aware of that. There’s a lot I don’t know.

- (I already do kind of pre-ship Twelve and River in a totally superficial way, just because, to quote Bones, “they are the exact same level of hotness.” I just think they’d look good together, and sometimes I’m basic like that. I know she has an episode with him, that’s the only thing I know about that era, so we’ll see.)

I’m all-in on this fandom now, for real. And I still have so much to catch up on! So, is it too much of a line to say Allons-y? (I still like it a little better than Geronimo!) 🤗🪐👽

[romanceandshenanigans]

Regency Romance Update: August 23, 2023

Yeah, I haven't made any updates or real progress in a month, don't worry about it. I've had a lot of stuff going on. Work is only just starting to calm down, not to mention vacations and family stuff to deal with. This is the first real day I've had to plan in a while. And my brain is being STUPID!

First things first, we're going back to the drawing board on this thing. I've been reworking everything in my brain and the blackmail just doesn't fit tonally or further the inner conflicts of the characters. Juliana's journey is all about opening herself to love again while Finn's is all about accepting his own worth, neither of which are challenged or supported by a blackmail subplot. What's really keeping Finn and Juliana apart is societal expectations and their own emotional issues based on those expectations. That's enough to deal with. So then the question then presents itself, how do I bring the cross dressing back into it?

That's just too big a secret to just be sitting there doing nothing. It has to come to light or threaten to come to light at some point. Maybe as a way for Juliana to demonstrate how willing she is to destroy her reputation to be with Finn? But then that would sink the reputation Finn has been building the whole novel in order to get his foot in the door to proper funding for his plays. So a source of conflict for their dark night of the soul temporary split? Then what could bring them back together?

I'm thinking while I'm typing and I've got nothing. I'm the damn author. I should know these things!

What I really need is to work on a fluffy scene or a flashback just to get me back into the swing of writing. I know I did promise I'd write something spicy, but other prompts are welcome.

In the meantime, here's a snippet of something I wrote a while ago.

“I won’t. Say what you will, but I learn from my mistakes.” He pressed a kiss to her temple, his nose finding a home in her hair. “God, I’ve missed you.”

She believed him. It was a foolish thing to think, but she couldn’t help herself. She never could with him.

“I’ve missed you too," she said, softly.

“Even when you hated me?”

“Especially when I hated you. It was the only relief I could find for want of you.”

tag list below the cut

@clairelsonao3, @auroramagpie

[teosartcorner]

(Posting this one here, ‘cause it has a few short OC trivia moments, if you're curious)

I was tagged by @eve-to-adam, so here we go! It might get long, so buckle up for the ride. 😂

1. How many works do you have?

I couldn't tell you a number, because I've had multiple stories over the years. Some were short comics for semester projects I had to do back in uni, others were WIPs I started and abandoned, others are ongoing personal storytelling projects I'm working on at the moment.

2. What fandoms do you write for?

I don’t really write for any fandom right now, I prefer to focus on my own, original stories and OCs. But I wouldn’t put that idea past me entirely, with the way my hyperfixations work, you just never know. 😂

3. What are your top 5 stories by kudos?

I don't really want to make a top, but some of my favorites include a few short stories I wrote for Project Paranormal, which is a shared universe I'm co-creating with Andreea (@eve-to-adam) and about which I'll be talking about at Question 9.

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

Absolutely I do! I even went to war with the “promote it on ->” bots on Instagram at one point, by replying with passive-aggressive comments, so. 🤣 Jokes aside, people who take their time to interact with my work and express their support mean the world to me, and I’m incredibly grateful to have them around. And those who even come back regularly? You deserve the world and I love ya 🥹✨

5. What’s the story you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmm… Depends what you'd consider “angsty”. I guess one that could count would be a short, horror graphic novel I've done for uni. One of the main characters dies, while the other ends up in a mental institution, unsure whether the previous events truly happened or not, but haunted by some… otherworldly things that tend to suggest everything has, in fact, happened. I wouldn't necessarily see it as angsty per se, because that was never the aim when I wrote that ending, but it’s the only one I could think of.

6. What’s the story you wrote with the happiest ending?

Do on-going storylines whose development I know, count? Whatever, I’ll pretend they count. 🤣

I would say one of the happiest ones would be Hubert and Dolly's relationship (two of my OCs from Project Paranormal). Even though they didn't start on the best of terms, they ended up progressively discovering they actually... enjoyed each other's company, once they started chatting like, you know, normal people who weren't looking for a silly argument just for the sake of it. Because that's what they were doing in the beginning; their personalities clashed in a way that turned all their encounters into a match of "who annoys who first". To the point where they couldn't even remember what was the precise starting point of that whole thing. 😂 But then, little by little, once they started opening up, they both fell for each other pretty damn hard. Their relationship was obviously not gonna be without any hardship, because they both had their own flaws and things to work through (especially Hubert), but they found a tremendous amount of love and support in each other. They realized they simply… get each other, you know, on a level they couldn’t have anticipated, but which was there to last for a lifetime! So yeah, they’re definitely getting their happy ending. :D

7. Do you get hate on stories?

Not that I’m aware of. And even if I did, I wouldn’t… really care that much? ‘Cause I’m not writing for them haters, lemme tell you. 😂

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

I like to depict sex and intimacy in my stories, so yeah, my writing kinda covers that stuff too. I usually prefer to go with the flow in those instances and see where the scene is taking me, in terms of description. Whether it’s gonna get more explicit or it’s gonna be a “fade to black” thing, depends entirely on the moment itself. I also like to be as character-centered as possible in my approach (which applies to every aspect of my storytelling, for that matter). I wanna take into consideration each character’s relationship with sex and intimacy, when I’m describing them; slight nuances to convey the moment in the same way each character is experiencing it, you know. What things they like, how they like them, how they communicate with partners etc. Like, take Delicia for example (my OC from Project Paranormal): she’s an experienced gal who likes to be creative in the bedroom (and outside) and is slightly more into the rough side of physical love, so depictions might get more blunt and slightly more explicit in her case. But at the same time, it wasn’t always like that, was it? Because she, like everyone else, had her own starting point, her own journey with intimacy and self discovery. And I want to capture that feeling as I’m writing her character. I want to capture that feeling with all of my OCs; I’m always trying my best to write as naturally as I can, to make the story really feel as if it’s a close look into one’s life and experiences. The spicy scenes are no exception to that! :D Now, whether I’m successful in this approach or not, is a completely different topic, but that’s beside the point. 😂

9. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Not necessarily, but I do have one ongoing storytelling project that could technically count. It's a shared universe I'm co-creating with my friend, Andreea (@eve-to-adam). For the sake of this post I code named it “Project Paranormal” because it pops up for some other questions.

It's basically a story that revolves around two main families (Marlowe, written and created by me, and Elkins, written and created by Andreea) and their lives, as well as extra folks like friends, lovers, their pets etc. It's a romance meets supernatural (there are ghosts, ghouls n’ curses) meets historical fiction (it spans over the entire 20th century and goes until present day) meets drama type of story, with slice of life sprinkled all over. The slice of life aspect is kinda my favourite, because I generally enjoy writing the everyday experiences of my characters, those that don't necessarily tie into a specific plot point; like some sort of a “fly on the wall” approach. The story has a main plot, of course, and a main timeline of events, but under that we're essentially having fun with all sorts of storylines and moments. Right now I would say it's an open format story/universe, meaning we're drawing/writing different out-of-order parts and tidbits, but ultimately they all tie into that main timeline and plot we've set. So, at the end of the day, the story can always be put together chronologically, into a graphic novel type of format.

Ah shit, I almost forgot. The “crazy” bit about it (Andreea mentioned it in her own post as well) is that it all kinda started from a bunch of sims we created in Sims 4 one day. We were simply chatting and having a laugh about it and then we went “🤨…🤔” and bam! here we are today, with a bunch of Marlowe and Elkins generations and their storylines. 😂 ❤️

10. Have you ever had a story stolen?

Either I haven't OR the thief is hiding exceptionally well, I can’t tell. 😂

11. Have you ever had a story translated?

Does self translation count? 😂 If so, then yeah. I usually write in my native language, but I translate into English once I decide to post some of it online. The funny thing is, the English translation actually improves the writing in some cases (specifically the dialogues!), because I have some English, Irish and Scottish peeps amongst my OCs, and in their case I can play with things like slang, accents, cussing etc, which gives a more natural vibe to their conversations (and is kinda fun to work on).

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

I’m currently doing that with Project Paranormal (see Question 9)! :D

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

— Aragorn&Arwen from The Lord of The Rings, always! They're probably one of my oldest ships, too, and they will always hold that special place in my heart. Aaand they’re definitely the reason why, to this day, I have a big thing for elf+human couples in fiction. XD

— Bill&Frank from The Last Of Us (show version), because people finding their lil’ corner of love and happiness in a dying world?? Hell yes, all the yes! 🥺

14. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Hmm… There is this one fantasy story I've been trying to put together for the past 2 years or so, but at the moment I kind of lost my passion for it. I tried to rethink and revive it in 2023 and it worked for a while, but ultimately I put it back on the shelf again, at least for now. In a way I wish I will regain that passion to continue, because I have some characters there whose stories I'd still like to tell, but right now I don't see it happening. Besides, I have other story ideas I want to test (and possibly pursue) right now. But who knows? Maybe one day?

15. What are your writing strengths?

Okay I totally suck at identifying my own strengths, lmao. 😂 But let's give it a try. I would like to think I'm good at allowing my characters to shape the language I'm writing with, instead of me shaping the language for them. I always love when, in literature, dialogues sound like things people would say in real life, or when the writing imitates the manner of speech people use on a daily basis (one of the reasons why I like Stephen King’s writing style, for example). I strike to achieve the same in my stories, so I give my OCs the freedom of talking in their own, individual ways.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

I tend to write too slowly for my own liking. I'm also a bit of a scatterbrained type of writer; let's say I write a certain scene, when suddenly I wanna jump to a totally different one. Nothing wrong with that, of course! But in my case, at the end of the day, I either end up in a writer’s void and I can't write for either scene anymore, OR I constantly switch back and forth between them and I can't concentrate on either one. Sucks to be me sometimes. 😅 But I'm trying to improve this in myself, so let's hope for the best!

17. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a story?

It’s a pretty cool thing and I like seeing it in stories. It's a concept I'd like to play with, too. For example, some of my characters from Project Paranormal have Portuguese ancestry and speak the language: Delicia was taught by her mum, Dolly, and by grandpa Thomas (Dolly's father). I'd like to think Dolly and her lil’ lass would frequently switch to chatting in Portuguese, during Delicia's formative years, which helped her learn the language and become fluent (and later on in life, Delicia will do the same with her own daughter). So, naturally, I'd love to have at least a glimpse of those conversations in the story as well! :D However, I will have to rely on the mighty internet to help me with that, because I don't know any Portuguese. XD

18. First fandom you wrote for?

Ooooh, you’re digging up very old memories with that one. I think the first fandom I ever attempted to write for was InuYasha, an anime I watched and enjoyed back in the day, when I was a bit more into the anime scene. But you can imagine how that went, considering I was like 12 years old or something like that. 😂

19. Favourite story you’ve ever written?

The most recent one I did. It's called “By The Alley” and it's a short story from Project Paranormal that features two of my OCs: Hubert and Paddy. I like the story flow I managed to capture there and I feel like I'm finally finding my writer voice, so to speak. I also had a lot of fun writing their dialogues! Both Hubert and Paddy were born and raised in Leeds, West Yorkshire (although Paddy has Irish heritage) and they are “raised by the streets” kinda guys. The way they speak reflects that pretty well, so I had fun trying to put some of those nuances in their speech. And the cussing, I loved writing the cussing. I discovered this to be a very odd pleasure of mine, writing people who curse. 😂 And Hubert's definitely the right person for that, because the man has no filter whatsoever (with Delicia being a close second – like father, like daughter, am I right?). 😂

—

That's it! If you actually made it this far, have a cookie and a beer: 🍪🍺

…along with my undying gratitude, of course! 😂🫶🏻

I will tag: @theeuropeanidiotverse and whoever else wants to join! No pressure whatsoever, though! <3

[aprylynn]

I’ve been tagged in so many things (not a complaint I LOVE YOU ALL FOR THINKING OF ME)

I can’t keep track of who tagged me in what but it was definitely Heather @wistfulocean Kayla @cordiallyfuturedwight Natalia @jiminsproof and Karen @sevencoloredstar (I can’t say enough good things about these people. 1000/10 would recommend 💜💜💜💜)

I’ll do these all on one post since it’s A LOT

🎶 Top 5 BTS songs. This is so hard and so unfair but here we go!

Trivia: Love. My always and forever favorite. The reason Joon is my favorite. This song wrecks me. I can literally feel it breaking my heart and putting it back together. Can we talk about how Joon is a lyric-writing genius because he’s a lyric-writing genius. The idea that we are all humans with sharp corners and straight lines and rough edges and we hurt each other when we interact with each other but love is the thing that makes us softer better versions of ourselves who don’t hurt each other when we encounter each other??? And tying it together with the similarities between the words human and love??? And the line about wanting to be apart of your book and getting involved with your novel????? I’m melting into a puddle as I type this...

Look Here. Did I mention that Joon is my favorite? Because his verse in this song is just wow... The whole thing is incredible and one I could listen to on repeat for ever.

Friends. Is a day even complete if I haven’t cried because of vmin??? They are the softest silliest friends. Imagine having your best friend write a song about your relationship that is full of memories and you get to sing it with them while holding hands and calling each other your soulmates. Only Taehyung can relate.

Love Maze. I could listen to this song on repeat for the rest of my life. Seriously. Play this song at my funeral.

Mikrokosmos. I cry so much because of this one. It’s so beautiful and comforting. The message and the feeling and how they all sound. It’s such a healing song that I really needed at the time I first heard it. 

***

🎶 Choose an artist you like and use the name of their songs to answer this as close to the truth as possible!

name of the artist: Florence + the Machine

what is your gender: Girl With One Eye

describe yourself: Mother

how do you feel: Hunger

describe your best friend: Which Witch

your favorite time of day: Only If for a Night

if your life was a tv show, what would it be called: Breaking Down

what is life to you: All This and Heaven Too

relationship status: My Boy Builds Coffins

what to you fear: Various Storms and Saints

***

Post your lock screen and home screen. They haven’t changed in years!!! My dog and a painting of my dog 🐶

***

Rules: go to pinterest and type in “[your name] core aesthetic” and create a moodboard using the first nine images. 

***

rainbow tags 🌈

❤️: LAST SONG YOU LISTENED TO? Trivia: Seesaw

🧡: IDEAL PIZZA TOPPINGS? Black olives

💛: DREAM VACATION? Scotland. Also I’d love to go anywhere where I can see and hug people I love who are too damn far away.

💚: EARTH, AIR, FIRE OR WATER? 🔥

💙: CARTOON YOU GREW UP ON? Animaniacs, X-Men, Transformers, Thundercats (I grew up with two brothers and one tv so I was often outnumbered)

💜: FAVORITE SCENT? Coffee

***

I think that might be it? Again thank you to everyone who tagged me. You are the loveliest. 

Tagging: @lauraperfectinsanity @sunshinerainbowsbts @hopeinthebox for any or all or none of these!!!w

[proceduralpassion]

Ten Books To Know Me

Thanks for the tag girlie @celestemagnoliathewriter

I'm a book girlie to the core, so I could talk all day about my favorite novels or spend an entire day at Barnes and Noble lol. Anyway, here are ten books to get to know me.

Jade City- Quite possibly one of my favorite trilogies of all time. I just chose the first installment in the Green Bone Saga, well, because it's the first, but all three books are masterpieces. If you're an urban fantasy girlie like me, pleaseeeee read these books. I'll never get over the world and family dynasty Fonda Lee created with this series.

Hide- I will read any single genre you put in front of me, but I'm absolutely a sucker for detective novels. And Lisa Gardner is one of the queens of writing detective thrillers with the perfect amount of romantic suspense. She has like over twenty novels in this genre, but Hide is my favorite. Seems to be a fan favorite too, because they made a TV movie based on this book.

Working Stiff- the only non-fiction book on this list despite the fact that I read a good mix between the two. It's somewhat of a memoir of Judy Melinek who's a forensic pathologist. This is my future career so I enjoyed reading about her journey to get to where she is now.

The Bride Test- my comfort romance novel! Helen Hoang is just one of those writers who I'll read anything from. Most people have read her debut novel, The Kiss Quotient (and that's a damn good book!), but I just reallllyyyy love the Bride Test. Khai and Esme have my whole heart.

Nancy Drew- A CHILDHOOD BANGER. Classic. Went #1 on my childhood Billboard for 18+ weeks. Smashed every record. Lol they could write 1000 Nancy Drew books, I'm gonna read every single one. They were my first foray into being a book girlie at the ripe age of 8, so they'll always have a special place in my heart. (SN: I realllyy have the urge to go out and re-buy all of the Nancy Drew video games).

Six of Crows- Best found family dynamic in a book me thinks? The twists and turns were everything and I loved every single character in the Crows.

Get a Life, Chloe Brown- Another romantic fave! I'll never not love a sassy female lead. And then the male lead was lumberjack height grump?? Sign me up! You'll always be famous, Chloe and Red!

Princess Diaries- Another childhood fave? GASP. Meg Cabot knew the hell what she was doing when it came to teen girl fiction. And she's still writing books for the series! The Quarantine Princess Diaries literally came out THIS MONTH.

TTYL- Okay last childhood banger, I promise. This was a Lauren Myracle series told ENTIRELY thru IM/texting and I loved it. I was in middle school reading these books and lowkey they were a lil too grown for me at the time, but I snuck and read them anyway. Another win for the teen girlies.

The House on Mango Street- OK, a lot of these books have been about being my fave to read. The House on Mango Street, while I definitely enjoy reading, was probably the first book that inspired me to write. We all know this is a modern literary classic, but there's just something so magical about the way she writes. I read that book and thought, yo how cool would it be to write something as awesome as this? Therefore, it deserves a place on this list.

No presh tags for the gworls: @drabbles-mc @tallulahchanel @asirensrage @darqchilddaydreamz @thesirenrealm

[antlerhymnals]

pssst Auden, can you tell me more about TWG 👀 i'm very intrigued by Jackdaw and Finley and I want to absorb everything i can like a sponge (🌲)

absolutely I can!!! I'm working on this novel for nanowrimo (and it might become my thesis?) so here's a soft introduction for—

Reluctant worshipper of the goddess of thieves, liars, fugitives, rainbows, and assassins, Jackdaw Gray wants nothing more than to live his life far away from the prying eyes of the gods. Unfortunately for Jack and everyone around him, the gods have other plans.

THE WASTE GARDEN is a love letter to my teenage self. It has everything I would've wanted to read in a novel when I was 15 or 16 or so—the snarky thief archetype (which was in pretty much every book I read around that age!), a chosen one who doesn't want to be the chosen one, and characters who are afraid of love but still fall utterly and helplessly into it.

It's also a love letter to my teenage self in the sense that it blossomed out of the high fantasy novel I started writing when I was a teenager. It's something I would've needed when I was a teen (frankly it's a book I want/need now!) and it's changed with me. It's a hell of a lot more queer, a lot weirder, and unpacks a lot of religious trauma. It's not necessarily "high" fantasy anymore, in my head I refer to it as "weird" fantasy. But I love it so much.

tag: wip:twg

some more rambling fun facts under the cut

I have three epigraphs I keep at the top of my document for this project. They are as follows:

The whole place had the look of a picked-at body. But hot damn! What a beautiful corpse. – Tamsyn Muir, Gideon the Ninth

I feel like I could eat the world raw. – Madeline Miller, The Song of Achilles

Babe, there’s something wretched about this / something so precious about this / oh what a sin. – Hozier, From Eden

( Jackdaw ) is a thief, a liar, a fugitive, and Left Hand of the Queen of the mountain country. He doesn't really believe in the gods—until his patron goddess appears and tells him he's the chosen one. Then things get a bit tricky.

( Finley ) is the rightful heir to the lowland country, but their uncle has convinced the nobility that their disability makes them unfit to rule. They're going to prove him wrong by stealing the Divine Right from the gods with the help of a charismatic, annoying, but ordinary thief.

Only problem is that Jack's anything but ordinary, and the gods might not be all they're cracked up to be.

Jack still thinks he can come out of this on top—until he falls in love with Fin. Suddenly the elaborate game of chess he's been playing with gods, countries, and crowns becomes something personal.

I'm obsessed with the voice of this project, which has taken me some work to figure out. It's snarky and a little bit stupid, which is fun, but I also get to flex my prose-y muscles every now and again.

(a snippet for example!)

[text ID: Light flooded Jack's senses, burning his eyes even behind his eyelids, and he groaned, throwing an arm across his face to block out the light. He wondered briefly if he was dead. Then an exasperated and unfortunately familiar voice said, "Enough, you're not dead. Who knew the chosen one would be such a drama queen." "Not you again," Jack said, without moving his arm from his face. "At most I am a drama prince." /end ID]

+ I'm currently creating a mythology for the world, which is also very fun. At the moment I'm writing a story about Odes (the nonbinary goddex of music, rats, poets, writers, and flowers) destroying a bizarre Godzilla-like beast with their music.

It's also interesting to write because Jack grew up "old religion" and Finley is from "the new religion," so they often argue over how the stories should go. Fin believes in the saints, for example, who ascended to sainthood by traveling to the gods' Sacred Mountain to be tested. Jack thinks that's a load of shit. (It's all fun and games not believing in the gods until you become the chosen one, after all.)

[memorydragon]

It wasn't a dream, it turned out.  Either Lan Xichen had just woken up from a decade long nightmare, or he was suddenly and inexplicably in the past.  He wasn't sure which theory he preferred.

If he was cursed, there was no one he knew who could have done it.  He'd been in seclusion for months, only seeing his brother or uncle on occasion.  Wangji's husband was the only one who might have managed such a feat, and despite Lan Xichen losing his temper at the Guanyin temple, Wei Wuxian hadn't seemed to harbor ill-will towards him.   But here he was, in the Cloud Recesses before it burned down, not allowed anything remotely sharp in his rooms (sword included), with both his brother and Uncle hovering constantly after his breakdown.  Whenever he tried to speak of the coming war or other things from the future, they looked at him like his wits had been lost on a nighthunt.  

So since I’m typing this monstrosity up before continuing writing, I thought I’d post little tidbits as I get to them?  It’s been a while since I’ve actually posted anything, so like... we’ll see how it goes.  I’m pretty sure no one is actually following me for potential Mo Dao Zu Shi fic, but hey.

Anyway, I might actually use bits of this part for a summary if/when I ever actually post anything.  Spoiler alert 1:  He’s suddenly and inexplicably in the past.  Spoiler alert 2: It’s most definitely his brother-in-law’s fault.  Really, who else has a ton of good intentions and history of those good intentions blowing up in everyone’s faces?

I’ll probably be tagging this Time Traveled and Traumatized (not an actual title for the fic, but very apt for a working title, I thought), so if you want to block, that’s the tag to go for.  It features Lan Xichen being Even More Traumatized so that he can get the Most Hugs and Gusu Trauma parties galore.   It’s also currently written to 89 pages in my notebook and only just now finishing the Cloud Recesses arc.  Yeah, it’s gonna kill me.  But damn it, the scene I want to write is at the end, so here I go.

A general note: I’ve lived in China for years now, but I’m still a foreigner who will get things wrong.  Please do let me know if I do end up fucking up culturally, because it’s certainly not intentional. 

Second note: Lan Xichen is ace.  It’s my fic and that’s how I’ve decided to roll.  You don’t like it, please block the tag.  Though if you’re follow me and you don’t like ace fics, that’s probably on you by this point.

Also, I think I’m going for a very, very different Lan Xichen then a lot of fandom seems to write.  Mostly going to be a Frankencanon of the novel and donghua, with a few details of other canons thrown in based on personal preference (example: I love a tiny, fierce Wen Qing from the live action, just because).  Don’t expect regular updates on this, as I’ll just be posting as I’m typing and will eventually go back to Writing Mode which is writing by hand.  I also won’t post any actual chapters until I’ve completed the whole damned thing, because that’s how I roll. 

This is mostly just something new I thought I’d try. Is it promoting?  Is it just me sharing bits to keep my sanity?  Will it Ever actually be finished?  Your guess is as good as mine.  But enjoy?

[omg-imatotalmess]

Avoidance

Hey guys! So, this is for @thisismysecrethappyplace who tagged me in their writing challenge. I’m sorry this took so long to get out. I hope this helps you through your birthday blues. Hope y’all enjoy!

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Requested: Kinda

Warnings: Slight angst (it ends nice and fluffy I promise) 

15. I’m hopeless and awkward and desperate for love!

                                                              ---

Love was a funny thing. It had the power to make people do the stupidest things without even realizing it. It had the power to make people forget themselves. Love could completely turn someone inside out and set them on their head, and they'd be happy about it. You couldn't fathom it. How anyone could be happy about tearing their heart out and handing it to someone for safekeeping was a mystery to you. In fact, you thought it was total bullshit. Then you met George. 

Well, that's not exactly it. It wasn't love at first sight by any means, but sometime in the years you'd known him, it crept up on you. You hadn't even realized it at first. It had come on so slowly over the years that it felt natural. Then, all of a sudden, sitting in a sunny corner of the library, it hit you like a ton of bricks. You were in love with George Weasley. The boy who taught you to play quidditch, who laughed at all your bad jokes, who had been your best friend forever. Of course, you loved him. It was inevitable. And that's why you'd taken to avoiding him. 

You couldn't stand to be the aching, puppy-eyed girl grinning ear to ear as you offered him your heart. Never in your life did you want to feel that stupid. You also didn't like the very real possibility that it would ruin things between you. All you wanted to do was wait it out. Let yourself slowly fall out of love with him, and then things could go back to normal. However, George seemed to have other plans. After a good week of avoiding him, he finally caught up to you while you sat in the astronomy tower. 

"There you are. Been looking for you for ages, you know," he said. You could feel him grinning at your back. 

"Uh, yup, here I am. You found me," you said, cringing at your stilted words. 

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you didn't want to see me. Silly me, I didn't know we were playing hide and seek," he laughed, dumping his bag on the floor and sitting down beside you. In typical George fashion, he left a tiny gap between your shoulders but knocked your knees together as he sat. It was friendly. You wished it wasn't. Then you hated yourself for wishing that. 

"Yeah, silly you," you said. 

"C'mon, don't tell me you're really avoiding me." His tone was still teasing, but you could hear the tightness beginning to form. 

"Well..." you began. 

"What? Why? Is it because Fred and I let you take the fall for that prank on Snape? Because I feel terrible about that, and I really am sorry," he said. 

"I am still kinda mad about that," you muttered to yourself.

"Does that mean you're avoiding Fred, too?" he asked, looking very much like he hoped the answer was yes. Just for the safety of knowing it wasn't just him. 

Things would have been so much easier if he didn't turn those big brown eyes on you. When he looked like that, you could see how devastatingly handsome he was even with that wounded look on his face. You hated it. The last thing you'd ever wanted to do was hurt him. How the hell were you supposed to explain to your best friend that you fell in love with him and wished you hadn't? You had the feeling that it would come out wrong if you tried anyway. You looked away. 

"You're not." It was a statement. 

"Well, no, not exactly," you mumbled. 

"What's the matter? Did I do something wrong?" he asked. 

"No!" you said, just a little too loud. "No, of course not." 

"You don't exactly go around ignoring your best friend without a good reason. Especially not you. Unless you forgot how to speak English or something. Even then, I bet you'd still come mess with me just because you knew I wouldn't understand you. You'd get a real kick out of that," he babbled. 

"George, take a breath," you reminded him. 

"What did I do?" he said, cutting off his rambling. You shifted uncomfortably, blushing under his gaze. If only he was just a little less endearing. If only he was ugly. If only you weren't dumb enough to fall in love with him. 

"You didn't do anything. I'm just being stupid," you said. 

"That doesn't exactly tell me much, you know," he replied, reaching out to take your hand. It was something he'd done a million times before. Your skin shouldn't have prickled under his touch. 

"No, I guess not. It's really not a big deal, though." The tingling spread up your arm. 

"Tell me about it anyway," he said, giving your hand the most unbearably sweet squeeze. It was like he had a direct line to your heart. That one little squeeze sent it into overdrive. You shivered, pulling your hand away and standing up. 

"I can't. Not right now, okay?" you said quickly. Snagging your bag from its place by the window, you turned to run like the coward you were.

"(Y/N)." Your name sounded heavy and tragic on his tongue. The whole situation felt like something out of a ridiculous romance novel, which made you hate it even more. 

"I'll explain it all to you when I get it straight in my head, okay? I promise," you said. While you never really planned to tell him about being in love with him, you would eventually be able to go back to normal. 

Taking one long step forward, he grabbed the sleeve of your shirt. His grip was so gentle that you could have pulled away if you'd really wanted to, but you didn't. Both of you stood there. Neither of you moved or spoke for a moment. You just kept your back to him, letting him curl his fingers into your sleeve. Eventually, he brought himself closer, leaning his forehead onto your shoulder. 

"Please don't ignore me anymore. It's only been a week, and I miss you," he whispered. You weren't sure you'd ever heard him so quiet. 

"George-"

"Please? I'd really rather you talk this through even if I don't have a clue what you're on about," he said. 

Jesus, having him so close you could damn near hear his voice inside your head was painful. So was the thought of walking away. George was your best friend. He deserved an explanation. It was cruel of you to do this to him when he didn't do anything wrong. You just weren't sure how to start. 

"I'm hopeless and awkward and desperate for love!" you blurted. Well, that was one way to do it. 

"You're in love?" he asked, somehow sounding more upset. 

"That seems to be what came out of my mouth," you said. 

"You're in love," he said again. This time it was more to himself. 

"Yeah," you sighed, turning to him. You rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly, feeling your cheeks flushing with heat. This wasn't a conversation you really wanted to have. He'd reject you in that sweet yet joking way only he could pull off, and you'd have to pretend to be okay with it, and things would be so much worse. If the castle was capable of swallowing you whole, you wished it would. 

"With who?" 

"Excuse me?" 

"Who is it?" 

"Who... am I in love with?" you asked. Oh no. Oh god. George, that sweet, stupid boy. He didn't get it. 

"Do I know them?" he asked. A frown pulled at the corners of his mouth. 

"I should hope so. You know, come to think of it, he actually looks a lot like you," you laughed, suddenly dizzy with mortification. The whole situation was laughable. Completely bizarre. What could you do besides laugh? 

"Oh," he croaked. "Fred then." 

"Fred?" you asked, blinking dazedly. 

"It's alright. You could have just told me. I would have even put in a good word for you. We're close, you know, I have an in with him. Wouldn't have minded setting you up. Can't imagine why you didn't just ask," he said with a half-hearted laugh. He began to back away from you. You watched as he ran a hand through his hair and bit his lip. For a split second, you thought he was going to cry. 

"I'm not talking about Fred," you said. 

"'M not sure who else you'd be talking about," he said. 

"You dense--" you muttered. Shaking your head, you figured you'd better give this another shot. 

"You, George, I'm in love with you," you admitted. It was his turn to blink at you. If the situation hadn't been so painfully awkward, you might have laughed at him. Half bent over with his bag hanging from one hand, lanky limbs paused mid-movement and sticking out at odd angles.

"Me? You really mean that? Me, as in George Weasley?" he asked. 

"You know a lot of other George Weasleys?" 

"Me! You're in love with me!" he hooted. A grin cracked across his face as he dropped his bag and swept you up in his arms. 

"I'll assume it's reciprocated then," you said as he crushed you against his chest. He laughed. It sounded a lot like years worth of built-up worry finally being released—a wonderfully contagious sound. A smile pulled at your mouth, and you buried your face in his chest. 

In lieu of an actual answer, he pulled you up, so your feet dangled off the floor and kissed you. You'd thought about George kissing you a thousand times, but you never imagined it would be like this. He kissed you like it was the only thing he'd ever wanted to do. Despite the enthusiasm that you could feel emanating from every pore, he was gentle. His mouth was warm, stretched around a familiar grin, and tasted faintly of honey. You wondered briefly why you ever thought about denying yourself this before  George overtook all your senses. Reluctantly, the two of you parted to breathe. 

"Guess I should have said something sooner," you panted. 

"Definitely," he said, sounding a little breathless himself. 

"So, I guess it really would be safe to assume you like me too," you teased. 

"I've been in love with you since fourth year. Glad to know you finally caught up," he said. His face was flushed a soft pink, making his freckles stand out more. You loved them. You loved him. 

"Sorry for keeping you waiting," you said. 

"This was definitely worth the wait." Smiling, you leaned in and captured his lips again. Now that you knew you were allowed, you weren't sure you'd ever stop. Maybe love wasn't so funny after all. 

@hufflepuff5972

[peeterparkr]

perennial;tom holland|fourteen.

chapter fourteen: snapdragons & sunflowers (Vol. 2)

↳ flower meaning: snapdragons: deception. sunflowers: unconditional love.

chapter summary: to use words. 

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of sex, remember if there’s smut it’d be under the *, flashbacks in italics

word count: 11.6K

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So, please help me out I think tags aren’t working. So yes, hope you enjoy this :) I’m sorry I haven’t been updating as much so here’s a long chapter to enjoy, please tell me what you think. 

Thank you to @friends-world for this moodboard

and thanks to @readheadwriter for this one! 

The sun was peeking through the window but they’d just noticed it, seemed like the entire day had been gray, maybe it would turn gray again. But right now it felt like the warm afternoon had finally washed over them. Such tranquility. Quiet.

They knew they were their very best when they were together and quiet. Or not quiet, but alone. With no one interrupting their thoughts. 

Y/N at that time could only wish she could stay like that forever, with nothing to worry, ignoring the dreadful problems and only… with him. Breathing and heart beats synchronized, as if they had connected on such a deep level, body and soul in their one way they knew how to. 

Y/N was often amazed by how precise he was, movements and caresses, the way he knew how to kiss her where she needed to be kissed, or the way his fingers would be soft enough to wash her with delight. 

How easily he could ease her sorrow, transport her to a different place. Though she was often wondering how she had wasted her life pretending not to love him. What else was she supposed to do if not love him? 

This wasn’t supposed to happen, or it hadn’t been what either Tom or y/n had in mind. Probably nobody. Not this way. 

Everyone guessed their fighting was probably still happening, and though James was probably the one to not want to know what had actually gone down, he probably was the only one aware that it would happen. 

There they were, her chest on his stomach, his hand in her hair, wondering what they were supposed to do, sun washing them.  Staring deeply into each other’s eyes. Tom had this particular way of staring at her that made her blush, shiver even. Under the sheets as his eyes travelled from her eyes to her lips. Still sweaty, and that familiar glow y/n had learned to know and love Tom had after each time as of it had been the first. 

So mesmerized she was by the sight of him. When had his eyes so full of hatred turned into such likeness? 

There was clearly no right answer to the problem, to the situation. Yet there was only one truth. 

They were in love. And everybody knew that. 

Y/N had never been one to read romance novels, she loved romantic movies that is, when love finds a way but she always criticized the way the feelings were portrayed. 

Ironic since she loved the magic and intensity and ridiculousness in 80’s movies. 

But she wished her life as a romantic comedy right now. Everything would be stupidly simpler. Not this mess which went beyond what her heart was able to feel. 

But laying on top of him in that warm room only gave her the answer that she wanted to be with him. But her mind kept going back to Cherry. She’d seen she’d gotten some texts from her cousin, and from other people which y/n had inadvertently ignored. That was a lie. 

She’d ignored them wholeheartedly. 

What did Tom feel? That was the only question. Regret. Most likely. 

“I shouldn’t have left,” y/n started knowing damn well that had been their initial downfall. How easily she had tried to escape her fear and pain believing that when she was away it wouldn’t be felt. She had been wrong, but we already knew that. 

Maybe Tom understood by then what she was actually apologizing for, it wasn’t her leaving it was her leaving to live with Tim. 

Though it shouldn’t have been a problem, there are a lot of things that were in necessity to be unraveled. 

The big drama that had been unfolded for a script.

“I should’ve chased after you,” he commented matter of factly. “Seems like my realization came late enough.” 

“Chase after  me?” She mocked. “As if it were—“

“I’m rather sure you did expect me to show up, I happen to know you very well, y/n,” he reminded her. “And I know you probably expected me to show up at your door when it’s raining and do something very 80’s movies like, you’d want a moment like that.” 

She looked away. “I—Well.” She did. But it was stupid to think he would. 

“Am I wrong?” He pushed. “Did you not wait for me to show up with yellow flowers?”

She shrugged, embarrassed as she brushed her lips against his skin as if trying to embarrass him just as much as he was embarrassing her. “My expectations for you rely only on merely having any.” 

“You’re saying you didn’t have any expectations for me?” He was perplexed, hurt even. 

“I’m saying you could’ve only shown up and I would’ve been pleased, I don’t need you to do anything else, honestly,” she admitted. “Because I know that you showing up would’ve meant we’ve swallowed all our pride.” 

“And did I not show up?” He questioned. 

Not how she had pictured it. 

“You did, but in the worst way you could’ve,” she reminded him. She sighed. “Besides you didn’t show up but only after my heart was broken for yet another time.” 

He gulped and brought his hand to cup her cheeks. “We did kiss under the rain, though.” 

“We’ve had some pretty dramatic kissing, huh,” she stated. 

“Pretty dramatic relationship,” he said with a grin. 

“However,” she sighed, “and going back to my initial statement.” 

“Initial statement,” he mocked. 

“I shouldn’t have left so—unpromptedly,” she said with a bit more formality. “I—broke your heart and I should’ve faced my consequences.” 

“But you left because of the script, and please, leave out all the formalities, y/n.” 

She sighed. “Yes, I did but I should’ve—I don’t know I was scared, I didn’t know how to deal with it. I wanted to let you heal, I wanted to—heal myself because I knew that my baggage would eventually bring us down and—Well.” 

“It’s not your baggage though, it’s ours,” he said. “We are trying to deal with that, you know? Work it out. We are in love, we are a couple and this is just a—well, an obstacle.” 

“Yes of course but—I—don’t you think it’s a sign?” She questioned. 

“A sign?” 

“Dunno, feels like we both tried to sabotage the relationship, as if—“ 

Tom furrowed his brows. “If anything, y/n, you’re laying on top of me after we had sex and—“

“I know, idiot,” she interrupted.

“I think that’s a pretty clear sign that we are deeply in love with each other.” 

“That’s only because I have no self control when it comes to you,” she stated. “And you know that and use that to your own advantage, you perfectly know you’re my weakness.”

“Am I?” He smirked. 

“Yes and you use it against me,” she stated as she blushed. 

“I do not, I—literally have no free-will when you’re around,” he said, his hands back on her back drawing circles with his fingers, “I’m hopelessly and stupidly in love with you and willing to give everything for you.” 

She smiled, genuinely, “we are doomed, then,” she stated as she stretched out to kiss him, deeply and passionately, but shortly.

Y/N knew it, he’d always linger like a scar you can never get rid off. His glance would keep her heart going. 

“What shall we do, then?” He asked. 

“Dunno.” 

He kissed her chin, “we could do that again, you know?” He offered mischievously, his hands traveling up her skin. 

She rolled her eyes, “Tom, we can’t keep avoiding it.” 

He sighed dramatically, “hm no, but we could postpone it,” he offered as his lips brushed hers before finally kissing her again, in his own very way that had her oh, so mesmerized. 

She tried to pull away but her lips kept glued to him as if her mind and reason were not in sync with her heart, or body for that matter.  She felt him smile and chuckle even against her lips before he pulled away. 

“No, baby, please,” she pleaded as his eyes were defeated. 

“Fine.” 

She took a deep breath, trying to avoid his gaze so she’d be able to say it, “I dunno, I’m still hurt, though I know my feelings, I’m still hurt and I assume you are, too.” 

Tom bit his bottom lip, “yeah.” 

There was a slight difference, and y/n didn’t know if it was due the fact she could feel his heartbeat or if his fingers threaded down her skin, or maybe due to the tattoos his kissing had left but she knew that they could work it out. They had to. 

“So what do you suggest?” Tom asked. 

“Talking,” she said. 

“Hm, we’ve never been great at that,” he sighed. “But if we shall.” 

She watched him. “What did you do to make her fall in love with you?” She asked. “I—“ she sighed. “I well—I want to know.”

“We’re-starting then,”Tom took a deep breath and turned to her. “I guess the same I did with you.” 

“You couldn’t possibly,” she stated. “What you did with me—“

“You’re right, I don’t know how I made you fall for me,” he confessed. “What—did by the way?” 

She didn’t have an exact reason but love by itself. Did he need to know one?” 

“I shall keep that a secret,” she answered. Which was true, for the record, since it was a secret for herself as well. “But with her?” 

“Well, I—honestly, don’t know. I didn’t plan it,” he admitted. “I only searched for her.” 

“And why did you?” 

He looked away. “Loneliness blinds.” 

She clenched her jaw and finally rolled off of him, though her skin still longed to be close to him. But this wasn’t a conversation to have in any kind of romantic position. 

“I—for a moment, brief—but long enough to mess up my mind, I thought you leaving was for the best,” he said. “I thought you’d eventually realize you have feelings for Harry—“

“I don’t.” 

“No, but he kissed you,” Tom said. 

The one big thing they hadn’t spoken about, of course, the whole thing Tim was an issue, but Harry. 

“And you did write that you wished it had been him,” Tom continued. 

Y/N then sat up covering herself with the blankets, this was a conversation they’d pushed long enough. 

“For a moment,” she took a deep breath. “I did,” she admitted. “Because I didn’t—I well, you’d broken my heart and I was so overwhelmed and so confused, I did wonder, you know?” She confessed. “Why did I love the guy who’s been an asshole instead of the prince in shining armor.” 

Tom didn’t say a thing. 

“I did have feelings for Harry,” she continued. “At some point, but they were barely there,” she added. “It was… I mean, before—It was,” she took a deep breath. “Well I had finally gotten over you, yet again,” she forced a chuckle. 

He only gave her a sad smile. 

“I—Few years after that—kiss on that after party, after prom” she reminded him. 

“Oh,” he blushed. “Yeah.” 

“I was—Well, being the fool I was I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” she continued. 

He laughed. “Fuck, how must you be after what we just did,” he teased. 

She rolled her eyes and let out a dry chuckle. “But you were an idiot as usual, yet it took me a while to get over you, and I—Dunno, I was spending more time with Harry, and as usual he was a gentleman, and l—“she sighed, “I guess I started wondering why—Why don't I love the man standing right in front of me—and at that point I knew his feelings for me, he wasn’t subtle,” she added. 

“And you didn’t—“

“I knew you hated me for that, I could see the way you were disgusted by how I just simply decided to ignore his feelings—“

“And I did everything because he liked you—I—I know it sounds stupid but I couldn’t—“ Tom sat up as well. “I felt guilty for loving you and I knew you—liked me, and I felt guilty and so I did everything to push you away.” 

Y/N nodded. “Did a great job on that,” she pointed out. 

“But you did have feelings?” Questioned Tom. 

“I’m not sure if I had them or if it was merely a whim I tried to calm,” she admitted. “Because I was—I think I forced myself to it, you know? The whole—y/n why don’t you love him instead, and yes, I did wish I had—liked him instead at some point, but not because of you—Maybe a bit, at that point, we weren’t exactly as—“she cleared her throat. “As close as we are now.” 

He hummed a chuckle, “close.”

“Well, yeah, so yes I did ask myself why I loved the guy who treated me like trash instead of the guy who— you know, so maybe I didn’t like him and it was only—No, that’s a lie. I did like him, I—started seeing him with different eyes but I was scared because—No feelings towards anybody have ever been as strong as those I have for you.” 

He only reached for her hand, and brought it to his lips. 

“I’m sorry for the things I said on the script,” she continued. “I—however I don’t regret all of them.” 

“I should’ve read it—“

“Yeah, I was—too harsh on the first few pages.” 

“But then—“

“Yeah,” she cleared her throat, “but no, I didn’t have—I don’t have feelings for Harry, I do—love him and I’ve missed him too much now that we’ve been apart—don’t get me wrong but when we—broke up I just needed Harry, I needed a best friend and he wasn’t there and—“

“Yeah, I get it,” Tom sighed. 

“Harry is my best friend and he’s the only one—I can actually open up to, last night he just listened for the sake of listening,” she nodded. “And even if he had feelings for me he never—pushed them, you know? He knew I had feelings for you even if I never truly dared to admit it out loud and Harry always listened for the sake of being my friend. He never tried to make me fall for him when I was sad or—He was only a friend. And I—missed—I still miss him, and I hope, I—I can get rid of Tim if you ask me to but please never ask me to get rid of Harry.” 

Tom watched her, listening closely. “I wouldn’t. Not—not even Tim.” 

“But I assume it wasn’t easy for you either,” she pointed out as she then reached to the floor, searching for clothes, she reached for the one sweatshirt tom had used, not the one she’d borrowed. “When I left, I just—I guess it would’ve been easier if I had Harry, yes I had Emma and Emma had become a very good friend but—I don’t know, I needed Harry but I guess it was even more difficult for you, you were the broken hearted now.” 

“I was the bad guy,” Tom started. “Ruined my brother’s engagement, humiliated my girlfriend and made a drama. And—my girlfriend had written about my brother and my brother had kissed you. I—yeah, I wasn’t doing okay.” 

She sighed as she put on the clothes, Tom reached for the remaining ones. 

“Plus, when I realized I didn’t care about the script you were gone already, and to add to my misfortune, you were gone with Tim.” 

She looked down. “I didn’t leave with him, he just happened to be leaving as well.”

“I know, but given your history with him, given our history, too, I thought we were through, and after yelling at each other on the phone, I only—I sank into this—dark place, besides you’d left me some—daffodils?” 

“Oh, yeah, I had forgotten about those—“

“I didn’t, I watered them every day and took care of them, I am even having my mother sit them while I’m gone,” Tom admitted. 

Y/N felt her heart warm and glow, he’d taken care of them. 

“Daffodils,” Tom repeated. 

“Perennial flowers,” y:n said, “they—bloom again every now and then and they mean—“

“New beginnings yeah, Cherry told me,” he admitted. 

She grimaced. “Yeah, guess she misunderstood the message,” y/n said, with the least poison she could. 

Tom gulped, “I—yeah, but I assumed you meant you’d have a new beginning, one without me—“

“I meant we had a new one,” she cleared up. “And I mean—“

“Well—I get that now, but I didn’t back then and I thought it was ironic, it was—-I wasn’t doing okay, I was just—and then, it got worse…. how I was diagnosed with a heartbreak just—“

“What?” 

Tom shrugged, “it hurt and I wasn’t feeling myself and—“

Y/N then regretted writing the script again, remembering the sole reason she had initially started it with all honesty, to make him feel the heartbreak, to make him go through that pain she’d gone through. How ever could she wish for the love of her life such a pain? 

It was her turn to hold his hand. Such a weird conversation they were having. Just listening to each other, no complaining, no interrupting, just listening to what the other feels. 

“You were diagnosed?” She questioned. Had he felt as bad as her? 

“I went to the doctor and they said my body—had gotten used to being—around you, we exchanged chemicals or whatever that—Well, made me happy and then—it was gone” he cleared his throat. “I was going through withdrawal of love or so the doctor said, and it’s apparently normal to have a physical reaction because of stress and levels—“

“Of cortisol yeah,”y/n knew what he meant as she approached him, he hesitated but then held her close.. “I’m sorry—I’m—sorry you had to go through that.” 

“You’ve been there too, huh?” He asked. “That’s why Valerie—“

“Yeah,” she let him go just slightly, still close enough to feel him breathing, and looked up at him. It made sense though she still couldn’t quite find the piece to forgive him for being with her bloody cousin, she—understood. 

“I know it sounds like an excuse, and I know it shouldn’t—“he cleared his throat, “but I didn’t mean it to be with your cousin—I guess I was just trying to find back something that made me happy—someone that could get me out of it, you know? To relieve some stress, I guess.” 

She understood. 

“Yeah, which is—“She bit her lip. “What kind of happened with Tim, the first time.” 

Tom grimaced then. 

“Maybe that’s why I was so broken-hearted,” she stated. “Seeing you and Cherry, I mean. Thought Cherry would be your Tim.” 

Tom nodded. “Is that why you slept with him?” 

It was far more complicated than that, honestly. 

“Do you love him?” Tom added. 

She took a deep breath. “I did love Tim,” she stated and then took a deep breath. “Still do, not going to lie but—not in the way that—I love him as an old friend, it doesn’t come close to what I feel for you,” she bit her lip, “I guess I’m grateful for him, for taking me out of dark place, I’ve told you about it before—I—I’ve always known he loves me and after a while of listening to everyone say we were meant to be I guess I bought into the idea and—not anymore,” she nodded. “I think what’s different this time is that I know that I love you and only you and—I slept with him.  But you said it loneliness blinds and I was in desperate need to be loved and—he offers that—to love me unconditionally—“

“Don’t I love you unconditionally?” Tom questioned. 

Did he? She stared at his eyes. She didn’t want to go there, though she wanted to believe he did. “You see Tom, I felt worthless and replaceable and the one person who was never made me feel...replaceable is Tim.” 

“Have I?” He asked.

“Yes, twice—or even more, like that one time at the club or now with Cherry,” she said. “It hurt, Tom—“

“I mean—I—well, what about when you broke up? He brought another girl to Harry’s and Sam’s party.” 

“This isn’t about—“she sighed. “This isn’t about Tim.” 

“What is it then?” 

“I think we both try to ignore our biggest baggage,” she stated. 

“Rome—“

“Not quite.” 

“What?”

She plopped on the bed. “We hated each other our whole lives and sometimes we pretend as if we didn’t.” 

Tom bit his lip. “I didn’t,” he intertwined his hand with hers before laying down to place a soft kiss on her cheek. 

“No, Tom—I mean,” she cleared her throat as his lips kept brushing against her cheek towards her neck, “I know we are all—well this way—“

He grinned before kissing her neck. “This way?” He asked before looking up at her. 

She rolled her eyes, “Yes—this way.”

“Which way?” He asked again, before kissing her sweetly, and deeply. 

“Tom.” 

“This one?” He kissed behind her ears as his hands landed on her waist. “Or… this one?” He was kissing his way across her face. 

“Tommy—“she said softly. “No,” she shook her head. “No, yes, yes I mean that way,” she said blushing, “but we weren’t always like this,” she stated as she kept being peppered with kisses. “even if we try to pretend we were—“

“I’m not pretending.” 

“Tom, I mean how many pictures did you have to search to get the one for my birthday?”

He licked his lips, “uh—“

“Like all of our pictures— we hated  each other, and I mean—“she closed her eyes since his lips had found its way back to her skin, threading through her neck. “Tom.” 

“I’m listening, darling” he mumbled in between kisses. 

“Tommy,” she pleaded again. “You’re not listening.” 

“I am, you’re saying we hated each other and I know that did but I am just trying to prove to you that we are in a very different position right now.” 

And they were, literally and metaphorically speaking as he kept kissing her neck. 

She decided to enjoy it then, “Now, we are—“she took a deep breath. “but—but, but, but, but  our whole lives we were enemies and we never truly had a transition from it.” 

He hummed a chuckle, “I think we had a very clear transition.” He had smirked as he looked up back at her, sight digging to her. 

“Please,” she scoffed. “even the first time we had sex we pretended to hate each other.” 

He raised his brows. “Huh we did. We’ve had sex on the weirdest of situations.” 

“Yes and we kept being rude after that—“

“And then we slept together again and again and—“

“Yes I know, I know!” She interrupted him as he laughed, making her giggle.  “but—it’s weird though—it’s—Tom,” she couldn’t stop her laugh. “Tom it’s weird.”

“What is?”

“I think that’s why we avoid fighting,” she stated.

“We don’t—“

“We are avoiding it right now,” she pointed out, “because we spent our whole lives fighting—“

“And we were very good at it,” Tom acknowledged.

“Yes and we probably avoid it because—“

“We might end up hurting each other,” Tom finished her sentence. 

“Yeah.” 

“Old habits never wear out.” 

Tom finally rolled off of her and took a deep breath. They stayed quiet, for a bit, as if they had to listen now to their own very thoughts. To make room for their own feelings. For most of their lives they’d been enemies and then this and—how y/n always flaked on feelings and how complicated she was. It was weird, she’d always pushed every single guy away because she had feelings with Tom and now she was pushing Tom away, and she didn’t know why. But she didn’t want to push him away. 

His hands above his head, her hands above her heart.

Did they need to be rational? Or did they have to follow their feelings?

“What do we have to do?” He asked after a while. 

She sat up and hugged her knees. “I—don’t know, “ she sighed. “Are we being rational?”

“If we are, then do we—“

“What would rational people do?” She scoffed. 

Tom gulped. “Break up?”

She looked back at him, with fear. She knew those words were coming but she had avoided them. Did they have to?

“I don’t want to break up,” he stated quickly. 

She felt a relief, “I don’t either.” 

He sat up. “But—do we have to?” 

“I don’t know, maybe it would be the rational thing to do—“she pursed her lips. “Yet, I don’t want to lose you, because though—we’ve been through hell, losing you would be the one heartbreak I would never be able to heal from.” 

That made Tom smile as he pulled her close to him. Y/N knew that their love story wasn’t one girls would wish for, it wasn’t a picture perfect, magazine like love story. It was full of hatred and reckless feelings. And looking back at it, y/n would always get a pain in her chest, not sure why. Was it torture? It couldn’t be. Why was she so invested in him? Why did she love him so much if she’d been warned with signs all over again? Was he worth the pain? 

There was that feeling that the flashing lights were blinding her again, that there was a clear sign to get away from him and rush and escape, but she’d find her way back to him. Because it was thrilling, and exciting. But they were lost, very lost. And they could pretend they could last forever, and they would if they tried to but right now there was no clear path, though it was simple and though they were in love, it just… hurt. Being apart from him seemed like the worst kind of torture she could think of. 

It was scary to stay, too. Because what if they lost their minds, too? Things hadn’t changed, not much. Not really. Y/N was still so in love with him, but she was exactly in the same position she was when she’d let him. 

What if they escaped? 

But they still had to talk about a lot of things. Because escaping was following their hearts, and they probably had to be rational, for once. 

Harry was, on the other hand, tired of being rational. For once he wanted to follow his heart. He didn’t. He instead was going through the most recent events which he couldn’t quite map yet. He knew about Tom and y/n…. 

Harry didn’t know anything about them. He didn’t care. 

That’s a lie. He did care. Just not right now. Harry had a lot in his head. And it seemed like the roles had been reversed, him and Emma were not talking or anything. And probably Tom and y/n were. 

Or were they? 

Y/N had not answered and this was typical of y/n. She did this thing of running away, that's what she did the best, he knew that. But she usually ran to him. 

And she had, last night. 

He felt wrong. And Harry wasn’t sure if he was prepared to deal with y/n and Tom breaking up. Not because he didn’t want to be a friend with y/n but because he’d barely had anyone to deal with it. His own breakup, because of course the room had been on Tom. Usually, it was. Harry never minded but right now he needed some help for himself. 

And he knew that probably if Tom and y/n broke up it would be intense. 

Not because of y/n. Y/N didn’t make her breakups intense. 

Tom did. 

But not y/n, Harry knew that. Except when it came to Tom. Like when after Rome, y/n pushed everyone away. 

But after Louis all y/n needed was a night watching The Breakfast Club and pizza. 

Even after Tim, well, that had been harder. 

They’d broken up on New Years Eve. Harry still remembered it happened at that one party, right outside it. While everyone was having fun, getting their asses drunk and dancing to the music, y/n had walked back into the room, boyfriend less and with her mascara run across her face. Just slightly, as she’d run to the bathroom. 

He remembered how Tim had also walked in and rushed to Emma. Emma had spent a certain amount of time listening to Timmy, but eventually came back to Harry, and kissed him at midnight. Harry knew by then. 

Emma was the love of his life, undeniably flawed but perfect for him. Not the one couple you’d think that would end up together but the one that after seeing it, made sense. 

Emma had stayed to help him clean up, and he remembered staying up all night, seeing the sun coming out. Talking nonsense. 

Emma told him y/n and Tim had broken up. 

Harry didn’t know why they had broken up by then, but he had guessed it right after they hadn’t kissed at midnight that something was wrong. The very next day y/n had shown up to Tom’s place looking for Harry, she had avoided Tom and ran up straight to Harry and even Emma. Emma had gone to her best friend. Knowing Tim needed her. 

Y/n had explained to him how it had gone as they kept cleaning up. 

“I fucked up,” she had said, “I may have lost the love of my life for some stupid whim of mine.” 

“What happened?” 

“We are on a break,” she explained. “He said he can’t be second to my heart and I don’t blame him.” 

“And is he?” 

She had stopped, staring at a bottle. Harry remembered Tom had shown up to the kitchen. 

“What are you doing here, y/n? Gathering your breakfast? Didn’t know you had to scatter for trash here, thought you had Tim for that.” 

Y/N ignored him, knowing damn well that ignoring Tom was her greatest weapon. Probably the reason why she had left this last time. Not giving Tom any attention was what he hated the most. 

And she ignored him that time. 

“You’re not welcome here, y/n, may I remind you.” 

Harry turned to him. “Not now, Thomas.” 

“Unless she helps us clean, at least be useful for once y/n,” Tom continued as he approached them. “Why the long face, y/n, it’s a new year, you know how they—new year, new you, maybe you’ll get a new chance to dump Tim or he might dump you.” 

“Thanks, Tom, glad to know though it’s a new year you’re still the same piece of shit,” y/n had snaked. 

Tom had left, eventually. 

“Then?” Harry asked. “Why did you break up?” 

“It was a boring breakup,” that had been one of the first times y/n had lied to Harry. Or rather, purposefully lied to him. “I—“and she had opened up. Crying, slowly. Quietly. “I don’t know—I mean I knew it was coming, everything went down after the proposal and I’m—“

“But if you didn’t want to marry him—“

“But maybe I should, I—I can’t keep holding to a whim that makes absolutely no sense.” 

“What whim, y/n?” Though Harry thought he knew the answer. 

“Dunno, he said we should—meet other people, he told me to get—my feelings sorted out.” 

“Did you give him the ring back?”

“He asked me not to, and maybe I won’t—maybe I’ll end up wearing it one day.” 

 And y/n had been different after that breakup. She had been quiet but she hadn’t made a big deal out of it, quietly swallowing her thoughts, she’d be around more, though. 

She would want to hang out more and propose crazy schemes and ideas. With y/n it was more movie nights, and giving a shoulder if she needed to cry. 

So, Harry wasn’t fearful of that. He knew how to deal with y/n’s breakups which only involves hanging out more.

However he had never seen her break up with Tom. And it is fair to say that most of the breakups y/n had had were because she had feelings for Tom. So of course, last night Harry had finally seen y/n in her truest form, y/n crying because she loved Tom. 

It seemed like a paradox, really. How most breakups had been because of Tom and now she was most likely to break up with him. 

But Harry could deal with it. 

With Tom, though. Harry knew he’d have to deal with Tom’s anger or sadness or whatever. And he’d have to listen and watch and… 

he didn’t need that. He loved his brother but Tom made everything big, and Harry, even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud, was on y/n’s side, even after everything, because Harry had been on the first row to Tom’s awful way to treat y/n. Harry wasn’t a fan of it. 

Because, Harry was well aware that though Tom and y/n had fucked up recently, he knew that their main trouble was their past haunting them, both of them knowing exactly how to hurt each other. Y/N, in Harry’s mind, had run away after the script incident exactly because she knew that would get Tom. Even if she didn’t do it purposefully, in her mind, she probably wanted Tom to feel her absence because if there was something Tom hated was to not be given attention. 

And Tom knew how much y/n hated being replaced, so that’s probably why he had searched for Cherry. 

Because even if Tom and y/n liked to ignore it, Harry knew they were still the same kids who knew how to hurt the other, and that was their biggest problem. If they kept ignoring that they’d learned their whole lives how to make the other cry, they wouldn’t understand why they’re crying right now. 

So, complicated. 

Harry wanted a break on his own, and he wanted to sleep, take a shower, get his mind off of everything. However no one had warned him. There was still that feeling of slight guilt, how he wasn’t being true to himself. There were a lot of things that Harry regretted, kissing y/n wasn’t one of them, because he needed to know how he felt, and though he’d known it for a while, that Emma was supposed to be his endgame, he needed to know how it felt. And Harry did go back to the kiss every now and then, and how it hadn’t felt like he had expected it to go. 

It had been sad, but beautiful, honestly. Y/N had kissed him back, as if she herself had been exploring her own feelings, too. 

She’d been late to her own feelings. And Harry did wonder from time how things would’ve gone had one slight thing been different. But they wouldn’t have worked out, Harry knew. 

Because y/n was meant to be with Tom, and Harry was meant to be with Emma. 

And it would’ve been a tragedy, Harry knew, those that felt like dreams, with the sun setting with a bittersweet melody. Had they been together, Harry knew, their love affair wouldn’t have lasted and it would have been sad, and Harry didn’t know why. He knew they’d be picture perfect, one of those reminiscent loves one likes to go back to, because they seem like only a memory. It would’ve been a good one, though, but very short. Tasteful dates, probably, but then Harry would’ve had that guilt, knowing that y/n loved Tom and knowing Tom loved y/n. 

It was more than that, he knew that he wouldn’t have worked it out. Not like with Emma, a marvelous love that could fit in that pendant that Emma still owned.  

Harry loved Emma. But someone should’ve warned him. No one had warned him that he’d be walking home to a fight. 

Though he wasn’t sure what he’d heard. 

“Friends? We both have feelings, you’re wearing my clothes and we just-- and you’re suggesting being friends?” Harry could hear Tom, as Harry rolled his eyes exhausted. 

“Yes,” y/n had answered. 

“Friends don’t have sex,” Tom had pushed. Harry wondered if Tom thought his relationship with y/n was merely sex, and if it was, then Harry understood a lot about them. 

“Well, you see, we wouldn’t have sex and you know, even if we...you were friends with my cousin and you had sex with her just fine,” y/n had said. Harry blinked. They were still having that conversation. 

“We are back to that,” Tom sounded angry. 

Harry didn’t know if he had to leave. 

“Yes Tom we are back to that,” y/n sounded tired. “Oh, so you thought that by just kissing me I would forget it-” 

“I mean I didn’t but I didn’t think we would have had sex if you weren’t going to consider accepting my apology, and we were doing fine, y/n,”  Tom sounded angry. 

“Yeah I— breakup sex never heard of it?” Y/N had this terrible flaw of calming down and the bursting out with anger again. 

“Is that what it is?” Tom snapped. 

And Tom had the fatal one of being too stubborn and proud to try and solve things. 

“I guess it’s what it’s supposed to be, Tom!” Y/n answered. Harry groaned. “You slept with my cousin, she kissed you last night—I slept with my ex, I don’t even know why we are trying to solve it.” 

“Because we love each other, I love you-” At least Tom sounded a bit more calmed now. 

“Yeah well maybe we shouldn’t and we haven’t realized that,” Y/N said. “No I… I didn’t mean that, alright? I know it, I love you, so, so, so much but this… Tom.” 

Harry also knew that y/n was one to always be conflicted with what she was supposed to do, or feel, hence why she dated Tim and hence why she had tried having feelings for Harry. 

“No y/n we—I thought we’d gone past that,” Tom was one to never know what to say. 

“Well we haven’t, clearly,” y/n’s voice was quiet. 

“Y/N, please.” 

“I don’t know, okay?” And Harry knew that y/n probably really didn’t know. “I love you,” she did. “But I’m—hurt and I’m—angry and I know that wasn’t—Well it wasn’t very smart of me but I’m—This is why I need a break but we can’t really take a break because I can’t be away from you because of the script our friends—” 

This was y/n fearing the surrounding. 

Harry felt guilty listening to them but he also needed to know what he’d be dealing with. 

“Yes the script,” Tom said. 

“Which you shouldn’t have accepted to direct in the first place—Why would you want to direct the thing that broke us apart?” Y/N had raised her voice. 

“It wasn’t the script that broke us apart and you know it,” Tom snapped. 

“Didn’t it?” Y/N snapped. 

This sounded more like the Tom and y/n Harry knew, fighting and challenging each other. But he knew they didn’t mean it. 

“It’s so much more than that.” 

“Then there you have your answer Tom, we don’t—We would end up here anyway so let’s just stay friends while we—While we film.” 

Tom groaned. “Why can’t we keep being a couple?” 

“Because you slept with my cousin, I slept with my ex, a normal couple would break up.” 

But they weren’t a normal couple. 

“I don’t want to break up,” Tom said. “We were working it out, y/n, what happened? You checked your phone-” 

“Yes and Cherry texted me, and Cherry says she has her version, and I don’t want to hear it, I don’t want to hear how she fell in love with you, and how you broke her heart or whatever, and I got angry again, and she can--” 

“We were doing fine-” 

“No, we weren’t, or...we were avoiding it,” she said. “Like we’ve done before because this, this is our nature, fighting.” 

“It’s not.” 

It was. 

“It is.” 

“Y/N, I love you, with all my heart, and I can’t be away from you,” Harry heard Tom say. 

“I know Tom and I feel the same way, but--”

“We could try, y/n we just… We were okay, we just had sex it must mean something.” 

Had they really had sex? Harry couldn’t believe them. 

“So you agree?” she asked. “you’re saying sex does mean something. It’s your words. Did it mean anything with her?” 

“Not with her but… when it comes to us it does.” 

“Why did you have sex with her?” She asked, perplexed as if trying to understand it herself. Harry assumed she’d asked that question a million times before. 

“Because I missed you.” 

“So what?” She snapped. “Because we share dna you thought your dick—”

“We already went over this,” Tom reminded her. 

There was a moment of silence. Harry really felt bad for  peaking their conversation. 

“Did you kiss her back, last night?” Y/N asked. 

“I didn’t and you know that, why would I?” Tom answered.

“I dunno … I’m… I’m sorry I just… thought.” 

“What?” 

“I thought maybe being friends would be the answer.” 

Harry approached them, they were in the kitchen.

“You said that after we just had sex,” Tom pointed out. 

“Oh my god you had sex?” Harry asked, perplexed just as he had walked into the kitchen, not because he really wanted to question that, though he did but to make them realize he was there. Thankfully they were fully clothed. 

“Harry!” Y/N said. 

Tom only closed his eyes with stress. 

“You guys had sex?” Harry asked again, now because he meant it. Had they had sex instead of talking? 

Both y/n and Tom looked away, embarrassedly. Y/N was sitting on the counter, her arms folded above her chest and Tom right beside her. 

Harry looked around at the kitchen. “Please tell me you didn’t have sex here.” 

“No,” Tom snapped. “Harry we’re in the middle of a conversation.” 

Yeah, he knew, he’d heard half of it. 

“I didn’t know you’d be here,” Harry said. Because honestly he didn’t. “Especially you,” he said, glancing at y/n. “You tend to… run away and not face your problems so I didn’t know.” 

y/n cleared her throat. “I want to fix things.” 

“You didn’t think we’d be here?” Tom asked. 

Harry shrugged. “I thought you’d be searching for her, and she’d be hiding,” Harry admitted. “I’m sorry, I’m going to leave you guys.” 

“You really didn’t-?”Tom questioned again. 

Harry wasn’t sure why. 

“No,” Harry said. “I figured you’d be fighting somewhere, not home having sex oh my god that’s gross.” 

Tom and y/n both groaned. 

“Look, our relationship is complicated,” Y/N said. 

Harry nodded. “Yeah, I know, so I’ll leave you to it, I’m gonna go take a shower and not bother you but please if you’re gonna - at least wait until I....leave, please.” 

“We’re not-” Y/n tried to say. 

Tom scoffed. “Look, you don’t--” 

“No, I don’t, I’m sorry, you guys keep-” Harry gulped and turned around.. 

“Wait, Harry,” Y/N said. 

Harry took a deep breath and turned back to them. 

“What would you do?” Y/N asked. 

Tom frowned. “What?” 

“Please, he’s the only person who is rational here,” y/n said. 

“I thought this was between us,” Tom whispered. 

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” she sighed. 

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, but what would you do, Harry?” ” 

“I don’t know. Talk. Be sincere with the other I’m—Look I’m sorry but—” Harry rolled his eyes. “I don’t want to be involved.” 

He wanted to say ‘Y/N last night you were devastated and now you’re telling me you had sex with this man?’ How last night y/n regretted falling for Tom.

Harry knew she probably didn’t mean it, and the way she ws 

What did Tom do to make her so vulnerable? And what did she do for Tom to be so little when it came to her. 

He didn’t. He didn’t listen to what they said after that. Harry was tired, and they were bickering, something along the lines of not being able to move forward with their talking, and something along the lines of not wanting to break up, and also being supposed to do it. They were loud, as if both of them were trying to give their excuses to Harry but that they wanted to stay together, or whatever mess they were saying. Something about Cherry, something about Tim, and then the script. He even heard Harrison’s, Clark’s name. 

They were bombarding Harry with information he didn’t care for, with excuses and warning signs and trying to solve their problems. How they were okay for a bit, and how Tom was stressed about how she had turned angry again out of the blue and y/n saying that they hadn’t truly talked about it, how they kept avoiding it, and how y/n had offered to be friends with Tom while filming because dating was too complicated because Tim was around, and how when they would go back. How she didn’t want to ruin the script and how Tom didn’t want to either. There was a constant, ‘but I love him’ ‘but I love her’ they’d tell Harry, ‘but I love you’, they’d say to each other. How it was better to break up but neither of them wanted to. 

“Everything was easier when you both hated each other,” Harry blurted without even knowing he had. Maybe because it had been what he had been wanting to say since he’d found out they were dating, back from when they were in New York. He didn’t mean it. 

Both Tom and y/n backed away. 

“I’m sorry,” Harry said with regret. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry … I didn’t.” 

Tom coughed, “no, but it was.” 

Because Tom agreed. And not in a way that he wished they were back on that, no, but it seemed like things were easier. At least he didn’t have to care about what he did, or… No, he just didn’t want to be in this mess. And he was angry now, why had y/n suggested being friends? They could be everything but friends. 

Going back to enemies was easier, even. Easier than being friends at least. He needed a drink to talk it with her, go back to the calm afternoon they had been sharing. And Tom was feeling lonely. Because y/n wasn’t listening to him, she was just trying to get into her world and she didn’t know what she… No, that was the problem, she knew what she was supposed to do and she always listened to what she was supposed to do. A breakup was the thing that made sense, for both but neither of them wanted to break up. 

But Tom felt like she suddenly changed, as if she didn’t even know him. As if he was standing in front of her and she didn’t recognize her. He needed time, patience and time to talk with her. Because he loved her and he didn’t care if he looked vulnerable while doing it. And she wasn’t listening. She hadn’t truly listened to him all this afternoon while Tom tried to prove to her that it was her and only her whom he loved. That they weren’t enemies anymore. That though it had been them, that didn’t define them now. 

Why couldn’t he say it? Why was it so difficult saying what he meant? Tom was never good with words, he just didn’t know how to phrase it without screwing it up. It didn’t help that y/n was good with words when she wanted to, sometimes it seemed like though she was building up what she was saying as she went by, it was as if she’d thought her words for an hour at least. Yet her decision making process was always blurry. 

Harry gulped, “I’m sorry, no, I’m happy you guys are- Well no I’m not happy I-I mean.” 

“I think we should take another break y/n,” Tom said. 

“What? No, don’t break up-” Harry gulped. “Or I mean you can…” 

“No, I mean, we need a… water break,” Tom said, knowing that y/n would understand what he meant. “Maybe go for a drive, I don’t know.” 

Harry felt guilty, Tom could tell. 

“Yeah, no, fine,” y/n agreed. “I’ll go get another jacket, I’m cold, again.” 

Tom watched her leave and breathed heavily. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to say-” Harry started. 

“No, I-I know you didn’t but I get it,” Tom sighed. “It’s not easy, I’m-” 

“How--how is it going?” 

“We were okay… and then we started fighting again because we got back to it, and we went in circles and I dunno, I think… I… we can work it out but, then she suggested being friends and,” Tom rubbed his face. “I don’t know. I just can’t be friends with her, and… I know she meant it for the best because we have to be around but I can’t just…” 

Harry watched him. “She was really heartbroken last night,” Harry warned. 

“Yeah, I know, I can’t blame her,” Tom said, stressed. 

“No, really, Tom, she was… devastated, so her coming to you and wanting to work it out, just… give time to each other,”  Harry said. “She really, really loves you,Tom,” Harry continued. “But really, just… talk, alright?” 

“What would you really do?” Tom asked. “You know her, what does she-” 

“You know her, too,” Harry pointed out. “Just use it for good, this time.” 

Tom didn’t know what to do with what Harry had said, and there in the car, with y/n. Both of them quietly, with the windows up and the radio off. 

“Where… do you want to go?” Tom asked. 

She shrugged, she was wearing his jacket around her shoulders. “Let’s go to New York,” she joked. “We worked fine there.” 

Tom smiled, slightly. “No, really.” 

“I… I don’t know,” she sighed. “There’s… Um, there’s this very cheesy place.” 

“Cheesy place? You know a cheesy place?” Tom chuckled. “Who would’ve thought?” 

“Shut up,” she rolled her eyes. “It’s this place, near a beach, you can see the ocean and there are flowers and there are rocks and it’s quiet and nice.” 

“Near the beach,” Tom seemed thrilled. “But… rocks? Are you trying to murder me?” 

“Maybe,” she chuckled. “No, I mean, it’s nice, we can go elsewhere if you’d like, to that diner or-” 

“No, the beach sounds nice,” he nodded. 

Then quiet again, then at least, Tom had turned on to okay some music and he’d rolled the windows down for the rest of the ride. Tom was still processing the multiple conversations they’ve had, and how he did understand where they were coming from. Every single one of them. But he couldn’t help but look at y/n’s flying hair. 

And, alas, they still had some hope. Or Tom liked to think that. Now that the sun was on the way to set, and as they were on that spot, near a beach, wtih an incredible view, and flowers, just like y/n had said. But she hadn’t given the place the fairness she should have. 

It was quiet, and in any other circumstance it would’ve probably been romantic. The sun merely setting, the perfect day, but this wasn’t what romance felt like. Or maybe it was, in the very Tom and y/n way. 

"Harry isn’t right, it wasn’t easy when we were enemies, not for us at least, it hurt more ” Y/n had said,  as she was leaning against the car, arms crossed. 

“Yeah, we’ve been in worse states than this,” Tom said, right beside her. 

“I’m sorry I asked Harry,” she said. “And-” 

“No, I get it,” Tom said. “We were going in circles and maybe it was good he walked in before we continued the loop.” 

She took a deep breath. “I.. sorry I just exploded with Cherry’s texts.” 

Tom nodded. “No, I get it, I would’ve gotten worse had I received a text by Tim.” 

“We can’t make any promises now, can we?” She asked. 

Tom took a deep breath. “I don’t know.” 

“I… look, the being friends thing isn’t….” she gulped. “I thought it was the safest way to keep seeing each other, and not being this mess, but I…” 

“Yeah, but being friends means we break up,” Tom said. “And I can’t… break up with you, I love you, y/n,” he said to her and she gulped, “am I allowed to say that?” 

“I—yes—why wouldn’t you?” 

Tom watched her, he knew she loved him, and looking into her eyes were just the answer he needed. “Dunno, seems like it hurts you every time  I say it or try to prove it to you like it’s the worst thing you could possibly hear.” 

She blinked watching him, “I—no, that’s not true.” 

“Then why else are you—rejecting me—“

“I’m not rejecting you Tom, I’m—“she reached for his hand. “This is a very complicated situation, Tom.”

“What’s complicated about it?” His hand pushed her chin up to face him, as his other hand landed on her waist. “I love you and I want to date you and I want to—“

She sighed as she looked away. 

“See, this is what I mean,” Tom sighed as he backed away

“I’m not trying to reject you, Tom, I need you to listen to me, and I need you to talk,” she said. “And it’s what I mean too, Tom, we can’t pretend we are not angry or hurt, I—but…”she reached out to him and cupped his face. “I’m so incredibly in love with you too so I’m just not sure what I need to do. And I know you want to—“

“Yes let’s stay together.” 

“But—I feel like we can’t, and I don’t know why.” 

Tom pursed his lips, riveting her with his arms, “why not?” 

“I—dunno, it makes no sense. But—I love you.” She let him go and then leaned back against the car, staring at the beautiful view she was offered, the sea plummeting the rocks nearby as the sun was setting far from them, painting the sky a perfect pink and lilac paradise. One very much beautiful sunset that y/n would probably treasure. 

It was odd, the flowers surrounding them were all yellow, as if y/n had planned to be surrounded by yellow flowers or it was probably a coincidence playing them fair and square. There was barely any space for a beach, for the shore was covered with big boulders. 

The sea splashing against them was the only sound they could hear for a bit, for they went quiet. 

“It is a cheesy place,” Tom pointed out after a while as he had paced around to take in the view. “Suits you.” 

She scoffed and nodded. “The flowers add to it all.”she looked at him “Was it too soon?” She asked. “We just.. Went for it, you know, we should’ve talked about it first and then start the relationship or whatever we were doing.” 

Tom looked at her and reached for her hand, “I don’t think it was—No, maybe, yeah, a bit soon, but—“

“Why—how Can you be so calm?” She asked him. 

He looked her in the eye, “I guess I have to be.” 

“Right.” 

“I don’t hold any grudges against you, y/n, I thought we’d grown past the needs of any,” he pointed out. 

Y/N breathed in heavily, “I—would like to say I don’t have any grudges, but I wouldn’t call them that way, I’m just—I built in so many walls Tom and guess I haven’t been able to tumble down some. But—I am willing to work this out so—“

“Will you now? Or are we going to back away again?” 

“I’m scared,” she admitted. “Not of you, of me and how—I can’t seem to handle my heartache but, if anything Harry made a point today.” 

“He did?” 

“I usually run away from you and I tend to avoid solving things,” she confessed. “Except today.” 

“I thought you had walked in to murder me,” Tom said, only half joking. 

“No, I just burst in, with the fear of the past, which isn’t a grudge but my heart finally showed what I fear with you, that it’s all some elaborate prank that—“

“It’s not.” 

“I know, I know, I know you love me and I know I love you but last night I—felt that way again, alright? That’s—that’s why we need to understand,  I felt like watching the same old scene we’d gone through before, and I—for once wanted to change the ending.” 

Tom understood, she’d seen her so devastated in the morning, so broken, so not her. Or maybe the truest form when it came to her heartache with Tom. 

“I don’t—No, I won’t hurt you,” Tom stated. 

“I know, that’s why I brought you here.” 

“How did you discover it?” 

“I would like to say I discovered them on an adventure while trying to find myself but I actually—discovered this place with—“

Tom squinted, was it with Tim? “Please don’t say Tim.” 

“With my aunt,” she finished. “She showed it to me.”

Tom sucked in his inner cheeks, embarrassed he’d assumed Tim. 

“Tim is an issue isn’t it,” y:n pointed out, not an answer needed. 

“Yeah,” Tom confessed, “but I am willing to compromise avd peor your friendship with him if that means you and I stay together.” 

“I can’t keep being friends with him,” she said. And those were the words Tom had been waiting to hear for  a long, long time. 

“Oh.” 

“No, not when he expects me to love him back,” she said. “And not when it bothers you, and—“

Tom watched her with curiosity, trying to understand if it came from his jealousy or if she genuinely didn’t want to be friends with him. 

“Besides, I don’t know, I don’t want someone who is my friend only to see if they’re getting somewhere,” she continued. “I know he tried sabotaging us and he was probably relying on you sabotaging yourself, at—at this point I wouldn’t be surprised if he told Cherry something along the lines to make her believe you loved her back.” 

“Did she—?”

“Oh of course she did, Tom, I saw it, that’s my big issue, that she was—She—She was like me after Rome, such a fool believing that from you, now she was the victim.” 

“But you were—“

“I don’t blame her, Tom, her only sin was falling for you and it’s not difficult to,” y/n explained. “Though I may have always said you’re not easy to love, it comes to my attention how actually I’m wrong, how I keep proving myself wrong and you do too, for god’s sake it only takes you a smile to get me all stupid.” 

Tom gulped with guilt. 

“I will—“she bit her bottom lip, “I will listen to her version. And I—not as to find proof to leave you, because if I was looking for any I would’ve left by now.” 

Tom was hurt by that statement. 

“But I don’t want to leave you because though you’d given me dozens of reasons not to love you, I’m afraid you’ve also given me a thousand reasons to keep loving you,” she sentenced but Tom listens to the way she was saying it, as if it hurt her to say it. 

“Y/N—“

“I want you to apologize to her,” y/n stated. “Explain to her, kindly but please nothing that could open a window for her, but—“y/n squinted, “I just don’t—want you to be the bad guy, okay? I’ll also clear it out to her.” 

Tom didn’t know where that had come from. 

“And—I will—find a new place,” she nodded. “I can’t keep being roommates with Tim if I want to work this out with you, besides it can be a small place, I mean I’m only here until we finish filming and—Well then when I go back to London I’m afraid I will have Cherry as my roommate but—that’s a future problem right now—I will look for a place.” 

Tom nodded. 

Y/n licked her lips. “Now, come here,” she said. 

Tom watched her with surprise, and walked over as he was received by her open arms, he smiled slightly before she pressed her lips against his, a warm kiss, soft enough as her hands travelled to his hair and his fingers pressed into her waist. 

“Don’t you ever dare to say that I don’t like hearing you say you love me,” she stated making him smile. Y/N always thought his smile was the prettiest thing she’d ever seen. 

“I-” 

Her hands travelled down to his chest and then to the hem of his pants, she toyed with them as she pulled him closer, pulling him by the edge of his boxers now. He blushed. 

“Oh?” He chuckled as her hands went up his stomach, her cold fingers threading lightly, tracing each and every muscle he had. 

Tom took a deep breath, shivering slightly as she carefully advanced her way through his body. She was decisive, for once. 

“Y/N?” Tom asked, slightly hesitant. 

“Sh,” she ordered before kissing him again, in the very way she knew he loved, making both of their heartbeats go faster, nervously as he felt his skin was creeping each time her hands were tracing the perfectly declined v-line that lead to where y/n’s secrets where hiding. Then to his back and far down his ass, squeezing it to make him giggle. 

Tom weakened to her touch as he tried to push his body as close to her, probably trying to merge into one, pushing her. against the car. 

“No,” she said as she pulled away, pushing him away as she turned him and pushed him against the car instead, so casually kissing him, not losing her own control. And then, we had Tom who was melting each time her fingers touched any part of his body, nothing too sensual, but it felt so intimate. It was her kissing him, not like before, it was her kissing him, his face, his neck, on that sweet spot she’d discovered he liked. 

Y/N was perfectly aware Tom and her had different love languages, and Tom’s was...mostly physical, though y/n’s was in words, she’d finally understood that Tom was angry because she was saying it but not doing it, and she was terrified that he’d end up walking away, so she decided to talk to him in his language. 

He’d memorized her body so she could only do the same for him, as she watched him just like she always wanted to watch him, like he was her favorite movie, or he was the words she always longed to write. 

“I love you,” she said to him. “My mind is just a very complicated space.” 

He nodded as he looked into her eyes. She intertwined her fingers with his and led the way to the backseat of the car, he chuckled nervously. 

“Y/N, see this is why we can’t be friends,” he pointed out as he was interrupted by y/n’s kiss again as she dragged him into the car. “Hm—y/n—y/n,” he chuckled as he was pushed into the sit, y/n on top of him, carefully peppering with kisses all across his face. 

*

She shushed him again as she finally sat on his lap, legs opened and wrapped around him, still kissing him deeply and softly as she brushed her lips across his jawline

“Y/N—I’m pretty sure this is illegal, darling,” he said half complaining as he threw his head back, letting himself enjoy her lips as her hands were still teasing him on the edge of his muscles, her fingers threading lightly still to the muscles that connected his legs to his torso. 

She chuckled as she whispered against his ear, “that’s never stopped us before, darling.” She used his word. 

He immediately went red and turned even warmer, he knew he usually was in control of the situation so y/n being the one to be sucking on his neck as his hands went up to cup her breasts felt slightly different. 

He felt a smirk against his neck as y/n felt a hard bulge growing against her heat. Before he did anything about it, y/n’s hand finally travelled down to wrap her hand around it. 

“Fuck, y/n, fuck,” he said as he brought his hands to his head as he threw it back, defenseless. 

Y/N smirked, “what do you want, baby?” She asked as she slowly stroked his length, very slowly. 

Tom couldn’t put words to his mouth as she kept watching him with mischief. “I—“

“Tommy, use your words, darling,” she said as he was twitching. Y/N didn’t know where she’d gotten her attitude from, but she enjoyed watching him pleased as her hand kept slowly going up and down, very, very slowly, hearing as his breath was halting, chest going up and down. 

“Fuck me,” he pleaded, desperately. 

She pulled her hand off and continued the path from before, but her fingers were viciously touching his skin. “Care to be more specific?” She asked, with the wittiest of smirks she’d ever shown him as she slowly grinded against him, Tom was pretty sure she was spelling his name with each movement. Honestly, she didn’t know what she was doing, but seeing him so small as she rocked her hips against him gave her power. 

“Y/N,” he pleaded again. 

She wrapped her arms around him, “you’re so pretty,” she stated watching him. 

“Fucking ride me, already, y/n,” he said defeatedly. 

She laughed, blushing slightly, “okay, Tommy.” The attitude was gone. 

He laughed along, “did-” He couldn’t stop laughing now, throwing his head now back from laughter. “I love you were really into being dominant and then you just-” 

She giggled,” shut up, I’m-not, I--shut up,” she was embarrassed now. “I tried- but-shut up, you’ll ruin it, I was going to-fucking ride you.” 

He laughed. “Oh, yeah, you were.”  

She buried her face against his neck, still not able to put herself together. 

He grinned and pulled her face  up to kiss her, “I’m still turned on, darling, no worries,” he admitted as she reached into his pocket for his wallet. He was slightly amused by the fact she knew where the condoms were as she took one out and struggled to open it.

She couldn’t stop giggling, though ,and he watched her the very own way y/n loved to be watched by him, as if though she was the most stupid girl in the world, he couldn’t love anyone else. 

“God, I love you,” Tom admitted as she had finally calmed her snickering and opened the condom,  with the widest smile he could give her, and y/n only looked up to him and peppered his face with kisses. 

“I love you too,” she admitted, as she kept deepening their kiss. And she wasn’t even embarrassed because she knew that he loved her even when she was silly. Y/N knew she didn’t want to let him go, and in no way was she going to break up with him, and he was right, they couldn't be friends. Friends don’t touch each other like that. 

Actually, she thought, nobody touches each other that way, so intimate and delicately, posing and tracing each other’s bodies and hearts in sync. 

No one could ever kiss her like that, not when the sun was going down, disappearing in the ocean, as the moon had already made its way up, covered by some clouds and surrounded by the pink sky. 

They both pushed their pants and underwear down and sloppily y/n wrapped the condom around him. There were still some giggles in between their lazy kissing, before y/n finally positioned herself on top of him, letting him fill her up. 

She had to catch her breath, and Tom threw his head back but wandered his hands under the sweatshirt he had once been wearing that day. He was thankful enough y/n had decided not to use a bra as his fingers traced their way through her breasts, as y/n’s owns hands were digging against his shoulders, steadily finding her rhythm as she jumped up, and down with pleasure, as soft pants came from each of their mouths, Tom brushed his nose under her neck and down to her still covered chest, as his hands travelled down to her ass to help her rock against him. Quiet moans leaving their lips as they threw their heads back with pleasure.

Over, and over again, y/n going up and down and circling her hips to get her some friction, he got the hint and with a hand caressed her core as she jumped in and out.

“Use your words, darling,” Tom said cockily as y/n still washed with pleasure laughed. 

“Shut up, I’m--close,” was all she could say as she grinded against him, and she could tell by his face he was close too. 

Her own high washed her first but she, tiredly continued to rock against him until she felt him twitch, as he let out a moan, coming undone as he tried to catch his breath. Y/N didn’t pull out, but continued to pepper his flushed face with soft small kisses. 

“I love you,” she repeated before each single kiss. 

*

Then Tom, without even thinking about it, and knowing deep down it probably was a very stupid idea, offered the following, “what if you move in with me?” 

next chapter

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[ialwaysgobacktoit]

THIS IS PART 8 NOW :)

Of "Time to rest your weary head" (or 'Azriel surprises Gwyn for her birthday'!!!!)

Check out the whole story here

Since last chapter was so short, I made this one bigger - and I absolutely love writing through Gwyn's perspective. I always try to be as mindful and careful as I can when I write her POV and address her trauma, but if there's anything you feel could be done differently, please let me know! :) and thank you so much for reading. Your support means everything to me <3

HEY GIRLS @katiebellf @starbornsinger @madie2200 check out my new chapter!!! and if you wanted to be tagged on this too, feel free to comment ;)

A few days passed by, and Gwyn could say she was already feeling at home in the House of Wind. She continued attending the services at dawn, pushing herself at training, then having lunch with Nesta, Cassian and sometimes Azriel, and at last spending her habitual hours in the library doing research work for Merrill before returning to the House. It was a routine she was kind of used to by now, and it made her happy.

She hadn’t been to Velaris after dinner with the Inner Circle and was secretly growing impatient to visit it again. She was planning to go shopping with Nesta and Emerie, but didn’t summon courage enough to invite them. Something about strolling around the city streets at dusk made her a bit nervous. Although she didn’t feel like admitting it out loud.

She was proud of herself, because she truly felt she was overcoming her fears. These last months were ones of a slow, but effective healing journey. She felt herself being less intimidated around others, mostly males like Cassian and Azriel. Rhysand was more distant, but even the worry she felt at dinner that night had faded. She saw Azriel almost every day and nothing seemed to have changed between them; so she believed in Rhys’s word when he promised her not to tell him.

Something caught her eye and interrupted her line of thought. She was sitting in a comfortable armchair by the fireplace at the House’s private library after a particularly exhausting afternoon, trying to read a not-too-smutty book Emerie had lent her, and immediately raised her head from the shadow near her feet to the door, where Azriel stood by.

“How long have you been there?” She asked and quietly hoped her blushed cheeks went unnoticed by him.

Surprisingly enough, sharing a hallway with Azriel didn’t mean they saw more of each other. He was so quiet she couldn’t detect his presence in his room, and usually she woke up before sunrise, so they didn’t meet each other until breakfast. A part of Gwyn couldn’t help but feel a little frustrated by that.

“Not much.” He said, stepping into the library. She motioned him to seat on the armchair across from hers, and so he did. “Actually, I just came here to ask you something.”

Oh.

She felt something flunk in her chest; it’s been a while since they last met at the training ring late at night, and that was because lately her nightmares were keeping themselves at bay. She remembered their last encounter, his hazel eyes shining under the moonlight as he stared at her from across the room, and they sparred in silence almost until the time of her service.

He didn’t seem different around her, although she could notice him staring at her sometimes with a glimpse of emotion in his eyes. And she felt she was becoming better at hiding her feelings when near him; oddly, something had calmed inside her. That urge and nervousness weren’t the first things to come to mind anymore, and she was content to enjoy their friendship. At least that’s what she kept telling to herself. There were some nights in which her dreams were filled with cedar scent, a pair of hazel eyes looking at her intensely, his beautiful hands on her hair…

She shook her head slightly and forced herself to meet his stare, the firelight making his face look golden; an elegant, handsome angel staring straight at her.

“What is it?”

“I wanted to know if…” His throat bobbed once, and she couldn’t help noticing he seemed nervous. Him, the Shadowsinger, nervous. He rephrased it, staring intently at the fire.

“The Velaris Philharmonic Orchestra will be performing tomorrow. They were in a long undetermined hiatus during the last fifty years, and now they’re back.” His brows furrowed, eyes filled with anger at what had caused it. “I used to go there every other night. And I was wondering… Since you said you’re meaning to leave the House more often, if we, well…”

She tried to suppress her chuckle at the way he fought to find the words. Instead, there was a timid smile on her face when she hesitantly interrupted him:

“Are you asking me… To come with you?”

He finally tore his stare away from the fire to meet her; those hazel eyes filled with something resembling hope.

“Would you like to?”

And damn her if his smile didn’t make her heart and her chest heat up when she responded:

“I would. Very much.”

Suddenly the room felt smaller. She swore the lights dimmed a bit, and all she could think and see was the silhouette of his face and his eyes. Those eyes that’d seen so much, endured so much, and now looked at her, as if trying to vocalize something without saying anything at all. They stayed like that, lost in each other for what seemed like eons, before he cleared his throat.

“So… I’ll let you to your book, then.”

Those words sounded forced, as if he didn’t in fact want to leave. She gave him a smile, but it didn’t quite meet her eyes. Stay.

His shadows were all around her now, gently circling her shoulders.

Just as he meant to leave the room, she found herself stating:

“I’m glad you listened to it. What I said about restraining them.” She gestured with her head towards the shadows, and reached for one with her finger. The tendril seemed happy to be touched and wrapped itself in her hand, to what she giggled. “I really like them, you know.”

When she looked up to Azriel, he had a cryptic look on his face, watching in wonder the interaction in front of him.

“They like you too.” His voice was filled with a hidden emotion, and his eyes twinkled.

She smiled at him. “You can stay here for a little while, if you want. I’m not going to bed for a couple hours yet, and I must admit I’m not completely captivated by this novel.”

Even though he had that cool, unreadable mask on almost all the time, she could still see him restraining his surprise. And the way his lips tugged upward told her she was right to assume he didn’t want to leave just yet.

“What’s it about?” He asked while sitting again.

“Well” She skimmed distractedly through the pages, calming her racing heart. “She is a healer from a land up in the North, and he is a tradesman from the South. There’s a curse that connected them since birth, but they don’t know it yet. And that’s what leads them towards one another, the urge to break this curse.” She traced the title, reading the name of the author. “It’s good, just not as good as Diane.”

She casted him an amused look as he laughed quietly at her criticism, shaking his head:

“Because no one will ever compare to her.”

“Never.” She agreed dramatically, and his laugh turned into a grin. “Emerie and Nesta think I’m exaggerating, but I mean it. I must have read her books like ten times by now.”

His eyebrows shot up, clearly interested. “She must be great then.”

“Wait a second. Five hundred years and you’ve never read her?” Gwyn couldn’t hide her astonishment as she gasped.

“Why is that such a surprise?” He leaned back in his chair, that small smile never fading from his face.

“Well, is just… You had plenty of time.” She teased.

“My life is busier than you might think, Berdara.”

“Well, be that as it may, this can no longer go on. You must read it.”

Before he could answer, she called the House to deliver her the stack of Gadot’s novels that were in her bedroom. Her private collection.

“Start by this one” She handed him a copy of And So the Story Goes, that had magically appeared in the table between them “This is my favorite.”

He reached for the book, and she watched as he flipped through the pages. She would admit that sight made her heart flutter once again. The book she had ever since she was little, that she read alongside Catrin, one of the only things she asked Mor to grab her after everything. Its edges were worn, some pages marked and underlined. To have Azriel hold it in his hands…

“You can read it at your own pace. And don’t worry, I have a spare” She showed him the copy Diane had signed her, a newer edition, that beautiful inscription that she knew it by heart in its front page.

I hope you find out what you knew all along.

“I can see you read it a lot.” He stated, musing through the pages and stopping at some passages.

She leaned forward to slap his arm. “What are you doing? Start at the beginning!”

He laughed out loud at her exclamation, his eyes meeting hers.

“Ok, bossy. I definitely will.”

After a few hours of talking and laughing together, she felt the tiredness taking the best of her.

“Goodnight, Az.” She said when she stopped by the door. Even during their conversation, he still held the book, keeping it close to his chest.

“See you tomorrow, Gwyn” She had just turned away when she heard him. “And thank you.”

She looked at him over her shoulder and saw him lifting the book. “Anytime.”

And when she finally shut the door of her bedroom, she couldn’t stop the light feeling on her chest.

***

On the next day, she knocked on Nesta’s door. It was the afternoon, and both Cassian and Azriel were out paying one of their routine visits to the Illyrian camps.

That morning, at service, Gwyn felt like she was flying. She sang like those ancient hymns were all that was left in the world. Even some other Priestesses had commented on that after it was over. And at practice, she couldn’t help her grin when she spotted Azriel across the training ring. And couldn’t help the blush that crept onto her cheeks when he almost immediately turned his head to her, the corner of his lips tugging upward.

She woke up thinking about their meeting at the library, their casual conversation and bantering. She didn’t feel an ounce of discomfort when they were together; everything was so easy. He knew her, her story; he had saved her, for Mother’s sake, and he didn’t make her feel like porcelain, like one blow could shatter her.

Instead, she felt braver and confident when he was around. They could still talk and laugh together as if they hadn’t shared that terrible experience in the past. Mindful of each other’s traumas, indeed, but... It still was light. Trustful. She hoped he’d read the book; she could secretly picture his eyes flipping through her markings and notes. She wanted him to know that part of her.

“Come in” Nesta said from within, interrupting Gwyn’s reverie.

She opened the door, only to find her sister sitting comfortably in an armchair by the window, book in hand and a cup of tea in another. Her training leathers were displayed on the bed, as she thought of training afterwards.

“Hey” Gwyn greeted. She didn’t know where to start.

Aside from Rhys, no one was aware of her recent discovery about the mating bond. Of course, that didn’t stop her sisters from smirking mischievously whenever Azriel was around, at training or during meals. Gwyn knew both Nesta and Emerie had picked upon whatever she was feeling towards him, but they were kind enough not to inquire in public.

“What’s going on?” Her brows furrowed as she got up of her chair.

“Nothing.” Gwyn took in a deep breath. Out with it, Berdara. “I was wondering if you could borrow me a dress.”

Nesta squinted her eyes, and raised an eyebrow as a slow smile started to appear on her face. Cunning, as ever. “May I ask what for?”

Gwyn herself didn’t know. When she found herself alone with Azriel for a moment during training, she had asked him what outfit would be suit for the occasion. He just shrugged with a half-smile, and reassured her she didn’t have to worry about it. But even so, she wanted to look decent for a night out.

“I’m going to Velaris tonight.”

Nesta gasped quietly, and Gwyn could see her eyes were shining with pride. “Alone?”

“No.” Gwyn went to sit at the trunk by the bed. Seeing that Nesta was still staring at her with that knowing smile, she added “Azriel’s taking me to see the Velaris Philarmonic Orchestra.”

She watched as her sister gave her a broad smile, and couldn’t help the blush on her cheeks. “What?”

“Nothing” Nesta hummed back, as she opened the doors to her wardrobe. “Just the two of you?”

Gwyn nodded, standing up and joining her sister in front of her rack full of clothes. So, so many outfits, a myriad compared to Gwyn’s scattered ones. “I don’t know what one’s supposed to wear to the theater. Even less so to watch a live orchestra.”

Nesta huffed a laugh, but her eyes were fixed on the garments in front of them as she scrolled through her various dresses. “Well, I do.”

They spent the next few seconds in silence, as her sister skillfully searched through fabrics. Strangely enough, Gwyn didn’t feel as nervous to have told her as she thought she would. But she was certain Nesta was only waiting for the right moment to fill her with questions.

“Oh, wait. I know.” She passed Gwyn and went to the trunk by that king-sized bed she shared with Cassian. The thought of her sister and her mate didn’t make Gwyn blush the way she once used to, but now the predominant feeling was that she could have that, perhaps. One day. That thought alone made her stomach flutter.

“Here” Nesta drew a burgundy midi dress out of the trunk. “Try this on.”

The V-necked laced bodice wasn’t too tight around the waist, and it had a light and also lacey skirt that draped around her knees, showcasing her legs. It was modest, and yet delicate and elegant.

When Gwyn looked at herself in the mirror, Nesta standing behind her as she zipped her up, she was breathless. It’s been a long, long time since she wore a dress, and this one fitted her perfectly. Alongside with the necklace, her freckled skin and hair, it made her feel… Beautiful. Stunning, even.

“You look splendid” Nesta stared at her through the mirror.

“Thank you.” She turned to her friend, who grabbed her arms and hugged her. She could see she was having fun.

“Do you have shoes to match this?”

Gwyn tilted her head.

“I could use my flats.”

Her sister shook her head, and reached for a matching pair of ankle-strapped scarpin heels under her bed. “Now there you go.”

Suddenly Gwyn felt an urge to cry. She was so happy to count with her sisters at moments like these. It made her excited for the ones to come.

“Hey” Nesta seemed to notice her tearful eyes, and urged her to sit next to her by the bed “Are you ok?”

She nodded and sighed. “I’m just… Happy. I’m nervous, but it feels good to know you girls have my back.”

“You know, Gwyn” Nesta grabbed her hand, her tone gentle. “I was going to say that you didn’t have to do this if you didn’t feel like it, that Azriel would understand…”

The thought of her declining his invitation made her heart ache. She didn’t once consider it; she was just glad to be spending time with him. That hewanted to spend time with her. Just as she opened her mouth to state that, her sister went on:

“But I can see that you want to do this. And I just wanted to let you know that I’m happy for you. And I can’t wait to know all about it when you get back.”

Gwyn squeezed her hand and gave her a cheeky grin:

“I’m excited, Nes.” Her words were barely a whisper as she confided.

“As you should. Now go” She nudged towards the door, smiling. “Go have some fun.”

[bluebellhairpin]

( Notice: OKAY - The pic there says ‘The Hobbit/LOTR’ but for times sake, and my own sanity, there is none listed thus-far (same goes for the ‘other’ category’). Merci for understanding! )

So I’ve been meaning to do this for a while, and I already have a blog for it ( @nemosrepost ) but that doesn’t get too much attention. Thus, here we are! 

(This was a nightmare to get done - it took weeks to get all the links and pics done up in my spare time - I hope you appreciate that.) 

They’re all sorts here, from Medieval Marvel AU’S, to Modern Attack on Titan one shots. They’re all organised via fandom, and I’ve tried my best to link and tag everything properly, but that is a difficult feat, so beware - for some it may not have worked too well.

Like my *actual* masterlist, this will be updated regularly with new fic recs, and even new characters and fandoms as I read them. All fic’s currently listed (as of November 26, 2020) are found on my reblog account. 

I’ve also tried to add in a ‘recommendation summary’ thing of each - so basically just my thoughts on the fic(s). But anyway, have fun browsing, and overall - enjoy! 

(AND also - LMAOOOO - Have fun scrolling lololololol!) - Nemo

( Pre - Warning: I am not tagging anything as NSWF, 18+, or triggering content. However some fics listed do contain such material. Please refer to the warnings or Authors Notes on each Fic before reading. Stay safe guys! I love you! ) 

Bluebellhairpin’s Masterlist 

Bucky Barnes

Knight in Rusty Armour - Medieval / A/B/O AU! Series - by @revengingbarnes Honestly I binged the first eight chapters (+ prologue) in close to one sitting. That was mostly because that was all that was published at the time. It is completed now. I love both these AU’s, and I love Bucky - win, win! 

Flowers Bloom - Soulmate AU! Series - by revengingbarnes  Another great series, and honestly I’m a slut for soulmate au’s, so this author might be coming after my heart - keep up that good work, if you know what I mean. 

The Great Build Up - Modern / Firefighter Au! One Shot - by @thottybarnes  This ones goes from cute, to hot and steamy, to angsty, and back to cute again. A one shot rollercoaster, and I thoroughly enjoyed every word of it. 

Maybe This Time - Mob Au! One Shot - by @propertyofpoeandbucky Okay, so if there’s one thing I like more than an mobster au, it’s adding children into the mix. Something about big bad guys going all soft for this tiny human - and then making them - and that’s called perfection. 

Whatever It Takes - Biker AU! One Shot - by @sgtjbuccky He like’s to be loud, so what. He rides a bike, so what. I what to ride him and his bike, so what. 

(Un-Named) - One Shot - by @softlybarnes  I’ve never liked Bucky’s metal arm more in my entire life. Using it for a baby going through teething? A+ idea. 

Hero, Waiting - Medieval AU! One Shot -  by captain-ariel-barnes Sadly, this fic is unavailable now, and that - obviously - makes me sad. But I’m adding it her anyway because of how much I adored it. The love triangle between Bucky, Reader, and Steve was amazing, and the feelings? Phenomenal. 

Steve Rogers

If Walls Could Talk - One Shot - by propertyofpoeandbucky  I’ll recreate my original comment on this fic - ‘Ouch’. And that’s all I have to say about that. 

The End of the War - College AU! One Shot - by @redgillan There’s nothing quite like a enemies to lovers trope that’s well-written. But then throw in fight club, a jerk date, ice-cream and pizza - just read it. You’ll understand then. 

The Edge of the Water - Mermaid AU! Series - @floatingpetals I have to admit now, I haven’t read all of this yet. But I also have to say, what I have read was fantastic. Mermaids - and Mermen - they just hit different, you know? 

Pseudo Princess - Medieval AU! Series - by @shreddedparchment​ To date, it’s one of the best fics - nay - stories I’ve ever read. I’d dare to say it’s easily the length of a novel, so if you’re up for the long haul, I’d definitely recommend it. It’s worth the wait - trust me. Op obviously put a hella lot of work into it, and it shows. 

Loki Laufeyson

Loki’s Happy Ending - Series (?) - by @gingerwritess  Listen, I have been and forever will be a Loki girl. Nothing will change that. And every scrap of content Theo produces for Loki I will cradle in my palms and keep warm until they’re ready to go out into the world or whatever - point is, read this. 

Just One Quick Glance - One Shot - by @imagines-trashcan  After watching ‘Endgame’, and squealing at every moment Loki appeared on screen, only to not have him show up in the final battle - this was one of my comfort fics. 

thunderstorms. - One Shot - by @tarynkauai Naturally, Loki’s child would inherit his unease of thunderstorms. And naturally, seeing Loki as a dad makes me happy. 

Stitches - One Shot - by @lokibug​  Loki being nice. I like that. We stan. 

Quentin Beck 

The Curveball - One Shot - by @healingchurch​  Listen, this is on here for a reason. I didn’t really like Mysterio ‘cause of what he did to Peter, but hey, some people are good actors, and some write characters acting very well. 

Stephen Strange 

(Un-Named) - Imagine / One Shot - by @archieimagines​ A cocky bastard and a shy Reader, as far as I’m concerned that a one-way ticket straight to my heart. *wink wonk*.

(Un-Named) - One Shot - by @whirlybirbs​  Honestly, there are multiple fics of hers on this list, and that’s because she’s a damn fine writer, and her stories are just that addictive. This one is no different. I was preparing to read more and then it ended. But all good things, right?

Crash and Burn - One Shot - by @lilyswritings​  The angst, and the angst. I cry, you cry, everyone cries. Unfortunately there is only the one part, but much to my personal joy that means I can interpret the after-ending however I want! 

Frank Castle

(Un-Named) - One Shot - by @alexsunmners​ This is just cute okay? I have no other words except this was plain and simply very, very, very nice to read, and that it makes me feel very soft right here on the inside. 

Peter Parker

Super Smooth Genius - One Shot (?) - by whirlybirbs  Back at it again with the cute, awkward, friendly, neighbourhood, Peter Parker. 

Just Don’t - Soulmate AU! One Shot - by @papel-creativo​ What’d I tell you about soulmate au’s? I can’t resist them. And of course Pete being a caring bf with his hero s/o. So nice. 

Ronan the Accuser 

Make You Proud - One Shot - by @kayleighhalliday2203​ This is justifiable because I was going through a Lee Pace faze and I found it and loved it immediately. 

Ultron

(Un-Named) - One Shot / Series - by @snarky-badger​ This I can also justify having read, because (and if you know me then you know) the robot thing ... Doesn’t bother me as much as it should. And I binged all of it on ao3, so. 

Poe Dameron

(Un-Named) - Masterlist - by propertyofpoeandbucky Okay, I know there’s a lot on this list, and it could take you a while to get through it all, but trust me - it’s worth it. Lani likes Poe, and it shows. He’s written so well. 

Dashing - One Shot / Series ? - by whirlybirbs Birbs does it again. She’s got Punchy!Reader, and if there were a legal way to get all of this Poe thing down into a written book, I’d do it. 

You Can See Me? - Modern / Ghost AU! One Shot - by @tintinwrites​ I just this this one’s really cool. And what Poe does for the reader at the end? So sweet! He would totally do that! 

Across the Hall - Modern / Nurse AU! Series - by @starryeyedstories​  It’s cute, it’s fun, it’s got tension, and a little drama - plus a smidge of angst and Corgi!BB-8. If perfection were ever made into a Modern/Nurse au Poe fic - this would be it. 

Deepest, Lightest Secrets - One Shot - by @writefightandflightclub​  It’s got the humour and overall feel  you’d expect to come from something Star Wars related - honestly I had so much fun reading it, and I’ll happily do it again. 

Levi Ackerman

Names for Him & You - One Shot - by @commanderserwin​ Again, op is one of my main sources for fic’s in this area - so there could be quite a few of them listed here. But this one? Cute as heck. 

Levi’s Secret - Modern AU! One Shot - by @theamberwriter​ This one was damn funny in my opinion. Nothing can ever be hidden from Hange for long. 

You Look So Beautiful In White - Modern AU! One Shot - by @alrightberries​ This fic, it carved out my heart, diced it, shoved it in a blender, then made it into an atomic bomb. I - I was not okay. That amount of angst shouldn’t be allowed. Read it. 

Abeille - Modern / Mafia AU! Series - by @ackermans-freedom-inc​ Honestly, this isn’t finished yet but, honestly, I’m not ready for it to finish. The heartache. The betrayal. The child. I can’t even. 

Lights - Modern AU! One Shot - by commanderserwin This was the first fic I ever read of op’s, and I couldn’t believe what I read so I went back and read it again. I can’t tell you how much I love it, or how I feel about it, so just go read for yourself and you’ll know. 

To Build a Home - Modern AU! Series - by @vennilavee​ If you’re a fan of Levi, you must go read this. It’s so detailed, and just so perfect - whenever a new part comes out I have a quick reboot before going to read it. 

Erwin Smith

One of Us - Modern AU! Miniseries - by commanderserwin I’m not going to lie, this one is here because I requested it, but also because I really liked it, and cried while reading it. So there. 

Reiner Braun

Service to the Crown - Medieval AU! Miniseries - by @present-mel​ It should probably be illegal to write Reiner or Medieval au’s this well, and yet here op is writing both. Like, McScuse me, where do you acquire such talent and can I have some? 

Toshinori Yagi

Flirting with All Might - One Shot - by @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten​ Toshi. The great. The hero. The awkward. He’s a blond boy doing what blond boys do even if he’s a little older he’s still part of the crew.

Stitches - Villain AU / Mini Series - by @itsallmightbitch​  Okay, so I said above that I wouldn’t put warnings on these - but this time I have to. Nothing I’ve read in my whole life emmits such an amount of pure horniness - and I love it. 

Godless - Fantasy AU / One Shot - by @pleasantanathema​  Another ‘All Smite’ fic, yes, I know. But god. They’re so good. This one is another real horny one, so if you can’t tell there is a slight theme running here. And - sksksksks - this is actually from the same ‘general area’ as the Reiner fic listed above (Service to the Crown). There was a event. I read everything. 

Keigo Takami

Preening - One Shot - by @shoutaaizawas​ Literally the softest and cutest damned thing I’ve read for Keigo. No, I’m not just ‘saying’ that, it’s genuine. The feelings I get - or lack thereof due to them turning to mush - it too much for words. Honest. 

Seasonal Special - One Shot - by @keiqos​ I’ll say this now and I’ll say it first - any Hawks fics written by op are *chefs kiss*. They’re amazing. Secondly, rut!Hawks is my weakness - this fic is one of such weaknesses. 

Shouto Aizawa

(Un-Named) - Series - by @theamberwriter​ This is *technically* the second part in the series, but it’s the only part I’ve read and goddamnit, I’m in love. Hubby Aizawa. The disappearing Baby-Zawa. 

I Miss You Texts - SMAU - Kuroo Tetsurou, Bokuto Koutarou, Nishinoya Yuu - by @briswriting​ I miss them too. They ain’t dead. I just feel like I haven’t seen them in so long.  

Little Things - Headcanons - Karasuno - by @haikyuudreaming​ Every single one makes me feel so nostalgic, and I feel so much longing. I love. I loose. I pine. I want. And yet I cannot have. I only dream.  

Cheerleader - Headcanons - Karasuno - by @imagine-101​  I want to be their cheerleader. Now I am able to be. Op, many thanks for the feeding. 

Tsukishima Kei

Cherry Wine - Single Parent AU! Series - by @bakugou-jpg​  I’m gonna head out and say that Tsukki was my first favourite Haikyuu character - then I ‘character developed’ but that only went so far as to give me more favorites. But deadass - read this and you won't regret it. 

Ukai Keishin

(Un-Named) - Ballroom/Latin Dancer AU! Headcanons - by @imagine-that-haikyuu​  I know nothing about dancing. Or ballroom dancing. But I do know I’d love to dance with Ukai. So how’s that for ‘middle ground’? 

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

Day 11: Walk the Dog - William ‘Ironhead’ Miller

Day 11: Walk the Dog- William ‘Ironhead’ Miller 

This story was requested by @oldstuffnewstuff​. Thank you so much for the request! I love writing for requests! Thank you for all the rebloggs, comments, and likes. :)

Also gonna tag @myathleteeggspizza​ for our love of William Miller. 

November Writing Challenge Masterlist 

Day 10: Used Tea Bags - Javier Pena 

William ‘Ironhead’ Miller liked numbers. His whole life since leaving the military was run down to the exact second the way he wanted it too. He would wake up at 0600 daily, stretch for eight minutes, down his first cup of coffee, and go for an eight mile run through the park. Then he would return home, take a five minute shower, get dressed, drink a smoothie, fill his tumblr with coffee, and leave for the base at 0730 sharp. 

Every single day was the same. But, that’s what someone with as many demons as he had needed. The structure and security of the same routine. Not one minute unaccounted for. Until the day he met her.

It was a chilly November morning when he first noticed her. She had on a black leggings, a maroon crewneck sweatshirt, black ankle boots, and hair in a messy bun atop her head. She was sitting at one of the unoccupied benches near the Veterans statue, reading aloud a book to a golden retriever lying quietly with her head in her owner's lap. 

He faltered for a moment, and one minute became two, became three and when he looked down at his watch he cursed to himself. He was behind schedule. When he looked back up they were gone. He turned each direction frantically looking for the girl and the dog but they were nowhere to be seen. He wondered for a moment if he had only imagined it before the beeping of his watch drew his attention and he picked up the pace to make up for the lost time. Lost time, what a novel concept for a person who counted everything in his life. 

The next morning when he entered the park he couldn’t help but look for them as he ran around the path. Keeping his eyes open for the golden retriever and her alluring owner. Will couldn’t help the pang of disappointment at missing them again. The routine remained the same day in and out for another week before Will began to give up hope about seeing them again. On Saturday after his run he came home and left at exactly 0730 again but this time he was meeting his old army buddies for breakfast at a diner across town. 

The diner looked old fashioned amongst the new and shiny chrome buildings that had begun to pop up around town but it wasn’t the outside that mattered. Will walked in and the bells tinkled on the door to notify the wait staff, and he nodded at the familiar faces before finding his friends. He slid into the worn, cracked leather of the booth next to his brother, shaking the other two men's hands across the table. 

The waitress came over and brought him a steaming mug of coffee, two packets of sugar, and one creamer before going back over to her other customers. Frankie pointed to the cup before back at Will, “you come here way too often if they know exactly how you take your coffee.” 

“Every Saturday,” Will tells him smiling as he prepares his coffee, taking a sip of the liquid gold, “Gladys knows just the way I like my coffee, and my breakfast. Why ruin a good thing by going somewhere else?” 

Frankie laughs at him, “Some people actually like to go out and try new things. Are you still doing the same routine every day and doing that counting thing?” 

Will only nods before he’s interrupted by Gladys who takes their orders, not even bothering to ask Will before she goes off to put their order into the kitchen. “Thank you Glady!” Will shouts at her and she raises a hand in acknowledgment. 

“So how the hell have you guys been?” Santiago asks over the rim of his mug. 

Benny fills them in on his training, and his new girlfriend he met at a fight a few months ago. Frankie tells them all about the house he just bought and is slowly renovating and shows them some new pictures of his daughter Juliette, who just turned three the past month. Frankie made the single father life look flawless. Santiago was in town for the next two months on break from down in Columbia where he’d been helping the local military take down a drug lord. All of them had something new to share, something exciting, except Will. 

“So what about you Will?” Santi gestures to him as they all dig into their breakfast. 

Will cuts himself another piece of pancake off for himself before running it through the syrup, “The same shit as usual, run, work, eat, sleep. On Saturdays I come here for breakfast and on Tuesday and Thursday I help Benny with training and Friday night is usually fight night. Besides that nothing is new.” 

“Youshouldgetadog” the words jumble together out of Benny’s mouth as he tries to talk through the French toast pouring from his mouth. 

“Damn it brother chew your food and then talk,” Will laughs. 

Benny swallows before trying again, “I said, you should get a dog.” 

“A dog? Why the hell would I get a dog?” he asks. 

“Just hear me out brother, you love routines right? You run every morning and it seems to me that your a little lonely, a dog could go running with you, and keep you company.” 

Will contemplates the idea for a moment and his thoughts can't help but go back to the beautiful woman from the park with the golden retriever. “Yeah, maybe… do we even have any pet shops around here?” 

“Fuck pet shops,” Frankie tells him, “you need to go to the humane society and get a rescue dog, they are the best. Juli and I will even go with you, she would love to see all the dogs. How about 1300 today?” 

Will thinks for a moment before agreeing, “ok...but just to look. I don’t know if I am ready for a dog yet.” 

“Ok I’ll meet you there with Juli and we can go look at the dogs, but I wouldn’t be surprised if you go and fall in love with one and take it home today.” 

Will scoffs, “Sure.” 

When Will pulls his black 2014 Ford truck into the parking lot he feels slightly overwhelmed by all the animals running about. There is a large fenced in yard with exactly fifteen dogs of various shapes and sizes. When Frankie pulled into the spot next to him, he began to feel more at ease with a familiar face and when Juli came running full speed at him he couldn’t help the smile that broke across his face. 

“Uncle WIll!!” Juli screamed tackling him into a hug. 

He swung her up into his arms and she squealed, “hello sunshine! How’s my favorite girl doing? Are you keeping your daddy busy?” 

“Of course! Daddy told me we're gonna help you find a puppy today? Can we get one too daddy?” She leans back in Wills arms and pouts at her father who crosses his arms. 

“I get the impression you and her had this discussion before you came today?” Will asks laughing at the exasperated expression on Frankie's face. 

“More than once,” Frankie nods to him before taking the toddler back, “Sweetie we talked about this, we are not getting a dog today, just Uncle Will.” 

Her face morphs into a pout and both men can feel the beginning of a tantrum coming so they deflect, “Let’s go sunshine! Don’t you want to see all the dogs?” Will leads the way into the shelter and when the bell dings as he crosses the threshold he stops. Frankie runs into his back before pushing the rest of the way inside. 

Sitting at a worn desk is the woman from the park. She’s wearing overalls with a white shirt covered in pink and yellow flowers. Her hair is pulled into a bun on top of her head but three long strands have slipped out and are dangling in front of her face. She’s wearing dark rimmed glasses, and has her nose buried in a book. On the ground under the desk, sticks out a wet black nose of a golden retriever snoring. 

Will coughs lightly to draw her attention and she snaps her head up and seems slightly startled. “Oh hello! I-” she puts her bookmark in her book and the dog rises to its feet, noticing the new arrivals, “Welcome to the Dog House, uhm how can - how can I help you today? She stumbles over her words, and a blush rises up her neck. 

“Hhh-uhm hi,” Will’s arm rises up and he scratches the back of his head, “Dog...I’m looking for a dog.” He can’t keep his eyes off her. The girl he had spent the last couple weeks thinking about, was right in front of him. 

She giggles, “Well then you’ve come to the right place, I’m Andy, you can follow me.” 

Will follows her like a lost puppy...no pun intended. Frankie just watches the two of them, smiling to himself. It’s obvious that Will likes this girl the way he’s acting if only he could see her looking at him the same way. Frankie keeps his thoughts to himself and follows behind the two. 

“What kind of dog are you looking for? Something big? Small? Athletic? Lazy? We have all kinds here.” she asks, gesturing around to the cages as she leads them to a small enclosed area outside. 

“I like to run, in Aveley Park over on 140th street, and I would like a dog to run with. I’m Will by the way,” he offers her his hand. When they touch they both feel a surge of electricity and they don’t let go, continuing to shake hands until Frankie not so subtly clears his throat.

She blushes deep red, and quickly drops his hand smiling shyly at him, “That’s where I like to go with Benny! We go almost every morning for a walk and then I usually read. My sisters have been in town the last couple weeks so we’ve been going in the evenings lately but they’re gone now so maybe I will see you some morning.” 

“Oh uhmm, whose Benny?” Will asks, he didn’t notice a boyfriend last time he saw her. 

“Oh my dog!” she gestures to the dog that has been slowly following between them. 

From behind, Frankie lets out a snort. Will glares at him before meeting your confused expression. “Benny is my brother's name…I guess he and the dog have some things in common. My brother is kind of like a lovable golden retriever.” 

She laughs out loud, and it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard and he’s desperate to hear her laugh again. “Well maybe your Benny and my Benny should meet someday.” 

“I would like that,” Will tells her, smiling. 

The two just stand there smiling at each other like two lovesick fools when Frankie puts down Juli who's been squirming in his arms. She toddles over to the dog and begins gently petting his head, his eyes close and his tail wags and everyone laughs watching the adorable toddler and the dog. 

“Ok,” she slaps her hands together, “athletic dogs, good for running…” 

“Maybe one a little older?” Will hesitantly asks, “I don’t run as fast as I used to.” 

“You know I think I have the perfect dog for you,” she walks over to the kennel and comes back with a gorgeous chocolate lab. Will drops to his knee and gestures for the dog to come and sniff him and he does so without a second thought. 

“What’s his name?” Will asks looking up at her. 

“Tom.” 

Will freezes and in his peripheral he sees Frankie frozen too, both of their eyes are on the dog. “What’s his name?” Will whispers. 

“His name is Tom, they found him wandering around six months ago, they think someone left him. He’s house trained, and very well behaved. We-what’s wrong? You both look like you’ve seen a ghost…” She looks between Will and Frankie. 

Frankie sniffs, “our old army buddy, he passed away a few years ago...his name was Tom.” 

“Oh...oh I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories.” 

“I’ll take him,” Will tells her quickly, “how do I adopt him?” 

“Oh that’s wonderful! Come inside with me and we will get the paperwork all filled out, you can pay the $25 fee and he’s yours,” she places a leash around Tom and hands him to Will. When their hands brush he burns from her touch and she pulls her hand back. It’s not one sided. Juli and Frankie follow behind. Juli is more excited then everyone when Uncle Will tells her the dog is coming home with him. Just thirty minutes later and Will is the proud owner of a new dog. Frankie takes Juli outside to strap her into the car seat and head home. 

“I hope I’m not too forward, but maybe one morning we could go running together...I go for a walk there every morning like I said but for the right partner I could be persuaded to start running in the mornings.” 

“Actually...I would like to walk the dog with you tomorrow morning if you're free... it’s hard to get to know someone when running...then maybe I could take you out for breakfast?” Will feels as nervous as the first time he gave a speech. 

“Yes,” she doesn’t hesitate, “yes, I would like that very much.” She slips a piece of paper from her back pocket with her phone number on it, “I was kind of hoping you would ask. I wrote it as soon as you decided on the dog.” 

He laughs before taking the paper from her fingers, sliding the number into his pocket. He gently grasps her hand and presses a light kiss to her knuckles. “I can’t wait till tomorrow morning,” he tells her before walking backwards out the door. 

Frankie has already left with Juli and he loads Tom into the front seat of the truck, before getting into the driver's seat and buckling his seat belt. He pulls out onto the road and sits at the stop sign, Tom crawls across the seat and places his head in Will’s lap. He puts his head gently, before pulling out to go home, thinking about tomorrow with one beautiful girl, and two dogs. 

Day 12: It evaded me- 

[yostresswritinggirl]

100 Followers Special

(And how to participate) you don't need to be a follower to vote ack

~yostresswritinggirl

Hello AGAIN, with your back to back followers special! Exiled here, very tired, as I just closed the requests box for our 50 followers special. I asked for some recommendations and no one helped me so this is what I came up with!

Granted, it's nothing that special, I literally just dumped my notes into this so—

Please make sure to follow the guidelines and read this thoroughly to properly participate!

1. You will be given a long list of fic prompts specific to a character that I've come up with for weeks on end, please don't steal, as I will remove them after this event is done!

2. Voting! You now have the power to influence my writing schedule haha- what you need to do: is to pick three prompts from the list and send it to me; either through reblog tag, a reply, or in my ask box (not anon so we can count fairly, will not publish these answers tho so worry not)! Not in messages tho! It should be in this format:

1. Character - prompt or prompt title

2. Character - prompt or prompt title

3. Character - prompt or prompt title

example:

1. Albedo - Citrinitas

2. Zhongli - Braid

3. Xingqui - Author!Reader

The top three most voted prompt and character will be the next fics I'll publish after I'm done with the current reqs. Speaking of: Voting ends when I finish the current reqs. You'll know it's done once the counter in my blog desc reaches 12/12.

3. In addition to the three prompts, you also get to add your own prompt to it! My prompts list does not include ALL the characters that's why I wanted to give you this option too! Add a fourth number and specify a character, a prompt/idea, and the format of the fic! Format it this way:

4. Character - Prompt/Idea (Format)

4. Kaeya - What's under that eyepatch? (Scenario)

After I pooled the answers, I'll randomly pick between the bonus answers and write them last! So give it your best shot!

4. Tags-list! I thought this would be necessary for this kind of a whim special, so if you wanna be tagged, just put Tag Me! at the end of your vote. Please make sure that you're actually able to be tagged because I just tried and some users are not in my orbit huhu, look here

5. If a pocket watch/series prompt gets chosen, I will only post the first chapter, not the whole damn fic pls. Have mercy,,,

I will post a counter of the top three in my blog description and will be updated as frequently as possible. Any questions, please direct to this post or my dms <3

Without further ado, here is your choice list!

Xingqui - "My liege, would you care to accompany me on my reading break? I've picked up a romance novel and it reminded me of us."

-> Author!Reader: You met Xingqui at Wanwen Bookhouse when delivering a batch of your newly-published book. But as a ghost writer, no one knew it was you that authored such books. Safe to say it was cute watching the noble bookworm fanboy about you in front of you. [FLUFF] [FIC]

-> Headcanons with a reader older than Xingqui who's a close family friend of the Feiyun Commerce Guild. Fascinated after meeting you in a party, the noble boy aspires to become the best man for you despite the difference, promising to be the best suitable partner for you in the future. [FLUFF] [HEADCANON SCENARIO]

Childe - "Hey there, comrade! What a coincidence that we had a break at the same time, care to accompany me for a walk? I promise I won’t lead you to a fight haha... hey, don’t look at me like that!”

-> Antinomy -  The 10th Harbinger (You) and the little shit they had to mentor (Childe), this fic enumerates the trials of the 11th before he became a Harbinger under your care. From strangers to mentor to friends to love- Childe made a grave mistake, now you’re once again strangers. [FLANGST] [ONESHOT]

Albedo - "Ah, it's you. I've heard of fleeting rumors that you've been pestering a certain someone just to see me. Next time, just come directly to me, I wouldn't mind the assertiveness."

-> Refer to these three as well: Albedo Fic Ideas [FLUFF/FLANGST/FLANGST] [ONESHOT/ONESHOT/SERIES]

-> “You’re Enough”: A year into being the new Chief Alchemist of Mond, Albedo finds himself holed up in his room in the dead of night, haunted as he continuously comes out empty on his research to bring his master back, feeling inadequate. So you reminded him of what he’s capable of. [FLUFF?] [ONESHOT INSPIRED BY You Are Enough - Sleeping At Last]

-> Under the Artificial Sky: Michaelangelo Scenario focused on Albedo’s sketching aspect. Grand Master Varka and Acting Grand Master Jean figured Albedo needed a break and a change of scenery, and sent him off under the guise of a commission in Liyue. What he didn’t expect was another artist from Fontaine accompanying him in this big project.(Albedo and Reader are tasked to paint the new Jade Chamber within 7 days) [FLUFF] [SERIES - 7 CHAPTERS]

-> Albedo SMUT: I had this idea while laying wide awake at 3 AM. The alchemist had been trying all remedies to shake off the stress and fatigue in his system and they all seemed to fail, no amount of sketching or discoveries can pull him away from it. So when you offered a solution he hasn’t heard, he’d jump at it immediately. “You know, some people say having intercourse with someone is a good stress-reliever.” “Intercourse? If it’s true, then please, I wish to have intercourse with you.” “Wha- wait Albedo, do you not know what that is? It’s only done between lovers!” “Convenient, I love you, anything else?” (Two virgin dumbasses do the thing to relieve stress) [SMUT] [ONESHOT]

Xiao - “I’ve taken care of every threat around this area, you can relax now, I made sure of that.”

-> What is it with you and Qingxin flowers? The Traveler had once heard of Xiao’s affinity for Qingxin flowers, and they’re flying companion boldly asked this lingering question to the adepti himself. His pupils dilate and sharpen before Paimon could finish her sentence. (An origin story about his favorite flower, and his favorite person) [SLIGHT FLANGST] [ONESHOT]

-> Just how harmful is adeptal energy to normal humans? You both found out in the worst way possible: silently, deadly. (Slight spoiler: you fucking die) [ANGST] [ONESHOT]

-> Nightmares Taste Horrible: He’s seen that look in your eyes and the ancient soul within it; you’ve lived long ago, and the only thing your soul carried now was the nightmares of a macabre timeline. Was it him or was it demons that brought you that fear? No matter, he’ll protect you even from yourself. (eating the nightmare of a dead soul reincarnated to you) [FLANGST?] [ONESHOT]

-> Go for the throat: The seal that marked you had made it all too late for him to remedy. Bleeding eyes, growing fangs, it’s just another demon to vanquish just like he’s done for centuries. What makes it different was it was sealed in you. (Inspired from Melanie Martinez’s song uhu) [ANGST] [ONESHOT]

Zhongli - “Mortals are capable creatures that evolve and adapt for means of survival, but they advance in ways that changes the world around them. This retirement, may be harder to me than it is to them.”

 -> “In human history, there’s a certain noble and powerful connotation to rulers who braid their hair.” Convince to braid his hair using some historical braid trivia; that long hair behind his back should not be ignored for any longer. [PURE FLUFF] [DRABBLE]

-> History has its eyes on you: A traveling theatre hailing from the land of entertainment finds its way to Liyue for their last caravan. A certain Geo Vision man seems to resonate with your newest script: fighting and protecting your land, building up its nation, before being forced to let go of it. He resonates maybe a little too much. (Musical!Reader with heavy references to Hamilton hehe) [FLUFF] [ONESHOT]

Venti - "Can you hear the symphonies of the wind as it sings to you? That's me, guiding you and protecting you! Whenever you hear it, know that you're safe and sound under my protection!"

-> the one the bard once loved: like actual bard, you are the archer or smth, loved by Venti and Barbatos. Yandere!Barbatos undertones, very unhealthy relationship. This hurts the kokoro. [PURE ANGST] [ONESHOT]

-> The Caravan: (related to the Zhongli and Musical!Reader up there) Your caravan stops at Mondstadt for a whole week before it reaches its final destination. This new fanfare pulled in a peculiar bard who now wants to tag along for the fun of it. "I have no more responsibilities in this free land!" Just what kind of responsibilities does a broke bard have in the first place? [FLUFF] [ONESHOT/HEADCANON]

Diluc - "You look weary, and you still managed to pull yourself here. Here, a fresh and cold glass, on the house. A relieved smile should be enough payment."

-> Abandoned by The Altar: A timeline oriented story focused on your once perfect childhood relationship as Diluc's bride to be, soon becoming estranged after the death of his father and his neglect. You only wish now that he looks at you the same way he did when you heard you were supposed to be together forever when you were young. [FLANFF] (The ending gets better pls; Inspired by Still Into You - Paramore) [ONESHOT]

-> There are No Laws Against Homelessness in Mondstadt: My favorite title out of all of this ahahhaa- who says adventurers can't be broke? You're the living embodiment of that. (Good boi Diluc with a broke ass reader) [FLUFF] (Warning: homelessness) [ONESHOT]

Scaramouche - "Let's go already, the sun is setting and we're nowhere near our destination. If you wanted to linger just to spend more time with me, I would have indulged you behind closed doors anyways."

-> Scaramouche Finally Does the Fandango: Have you ever wondered how Scaramouche is like working with other people? His first assignment was to accompany you in your main region and he sees you in your natural habitat, entranced. [I dunno how to tag this, NORMAL?] [ONESHOT/SHORT]

-> Skincare bitch, how I headcanon Scaramouche as someone actually conscious and always tending to their skin. Look at that smooth skin, cute cheeks, let me pinch, eyeliner glory— In which case, that hat has more purpose than being a frisbee. (May or may not include reader. (based from a reblog convo with chels-void) [GOOD VIBES] [HEADCANONS]

-> Once Supreme: Before Scaramouche, there was someone else higher than him. Before Balladeer there was just a young man fighting for his beliefs and her Majesty. Before Mondstadt, his smile wasn't just for deception. "Someday, someone would take advantage of that smile, Scaramouche. It's not appropriate in this work environment." The day you break a man. (Harbinger!Reader again, and lots of HCs for Scaramouche, same format as Antinomy) [I also do not know how to call this, eventual ANGST] [ONESHOT]

Kaeya - "What are you doing out here in the dead of night? Citizens like you should be cozied up in bed and leaving the patrols to us Knights. Come, I'll accompany you back home."

-> Honey Whiskey: A mysterious band of dancers from Sumeru visits Mondstadt and its taverns to offer a night of alluring dances. What was supposed to be a night of drinking for Kaeya and his troops ended up becoming a tipsy surprise mission when the main dancer steps down from the stage— and ignores him?! How scandalous! (Slightly suggestive themes/You're a bad guy) [COOL?] [ONESHOT] [slightly inspired by song with the same name]

General:

-> A Musical!Reader but with a scenario with every other character, most probably headcanons master post.

-> Genshin Food prompts: From that one post, I ended up making a whole storyline of oneshots related to their special dishes. Oneshots connected to a bigger picture. By impulse you've ended up leaving your normal life behind to pursue your cooking career, starting from Mondstadt, to learn all the cuisines to establish the first ever international restaurant. With the implications of magic and peculiar customers, your simple dream turns into a harder goal. [GOOD SHIT] [SERIES] [CANON-COMPLIANT]

-> God of Time!Reader that hails from Fontaine. Do you wish to know more about their origins and their purpose in this world? [CANON-COMPLIANT] [HEADCANONS] (General since it deals with all the characters/interactions)

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