#file it under 'oh god why do i have so many WIP ideas'

[thescrapwitch]

What if Morgoth's parlay was a different sort of trap?

He sends the message, dangling the promise of the Silmarils, and of course Maedhros agrees to go. Of course he brings more than the agreed upon amount of force, forbids any of his brothers from riding with him. It's a trap, obviously, but he won't drag them into death with him.

But Morgoth is counting on that. Because that means Maedhros is bringing the best of his soldiers. That everyone who stayed behind - Maedhros' brothers, those who might have been injured from the Dagor-nuin-Giliath and could no longer fight - will be thinking about their king. They will be distracted. Less defended. Vulnerable.

And then...

Maedhros arrives at the parlay meeting grounds and waits. And waits. Morgoth does not come. A coward, Maedhros thinks, and he rides back with his soldiers to his camp.

They see the smoke first. Maedhros' heart turns cold.

Too late, Morgoth's true intentions become clear. It was a trap, but Maedhros did not spare his little brothers by not letting them come with him. He looks at the devastation the Enemy has left behind and screams.

(later, his followers will say that he looked like Feanor. That his eyes burned with a dark fire, a horribly familiar mix of grief and madness)

In Angband, Morgoth forces the six sons of Feanor to kneel before his throne and laughs.

[thebreakfastgenie]

For the WIP list game, tell me about all or any of your TWW fics! Bonus for 'donna moss fic 2' because that is one hundo how I name my files.

this got real long so I put it under a cut

so donna moss fic 2 is called that because many years ago I had a fic called "donna moss fic" that was supposed to be quick and ended up being 10k and taking like six months. that fic became Start Over. then in 2020 I watched the When We All Vote Special and two things happened. one, I rewatched the show and landed back in the fandom after drifting away because I basically could not watch it while Trump was in office. two, I noticed a detail in Hartsfield's Landing I had never really paid a lot of attention to before. Josh says the Flenders took Donna in and fed her, and that she was pretty pathetic. I realized this was in New Hampshire, probably right after she joined the campaign the first time. I once spent a night with volunteers who housed campaign workers, and I thought that would be a really fun story to tell about Donna.

and somehow this turned into doing the Donna campaign backstory fic, again. the full title is "donna moss fic 2?? why are we doing this" because why the hell I would that fic again after what I went through the first time, I don't know. but I do know. I can do it better now. it's not a rewrite of Start Over, it's an alternate version. some things are very similar and a few lines are exactly the same, but there are some differences. I revised the timeline and geography, for one thing. this fic drove me to the brink of actual insanity (it was lockdown time to be fair) trying to figure out the fictional presidential primary schedule. I also checked the actual color of the "Welcome to New Hampshire" sign in person (I was going there anyway lol).

the idea is that each chapter is a state Donna goes to, either with the campaign or on her own. there's a prologue about the end of her drive to New Hampshire, which is the only part that is strictly speaking "written." the chapters are New Hampshire, South Carolina, maybe South Dakota depending on if I think it needs another campaign chapter for pacing, Illinois, California, Wisconsin, New Hampshire (reprise) and probably an epilogue in DC, tying together the information we have from In the Shadow of Two Gunmen, 17 People, and Hartsfield's Landing.

when I wrote Start Over I kind of side-stepped the issue of Josh's father's death and this time I am attacking it head on. I should probably keep this to myself for maximum impact, but oh well, it'll be long enough for you to forget. the idea this time around is that she tries to leave before Josh gets back from his father's funeral, but he comes back early because of course he does and catches her in the act. I have a very heartbreaking scene planned. this is not a Josh/Donna fic because I can't stand pre-series J/D, but like most of what I write, it's written with the idea that these people do fall in love and get together a few years down the road. it's about the beginning of their friendship, with a few charged moments, but it's more about Donna as a person. I'm also trying to pepper in some backstory of how she ended up with Dr. Freeride in the first place and why she feels enough loyalty to go back. the scene where she actually does come back is so vivid in my mind. I can hear the exact inflection of "thank god, there's a pile of stuff on the desk."

the planned epilogue is the first "anniversary" when Donna gets flowers from Josh for the first time. I thought about folding in an idea I had for the transition, where Josh is forced by Leo to give Donna a job interview as a formality, but I don't think that fits here so it'll be on its own whenever I get to it. obviously the main relationship Donna has at this point is with Josh, but I want to show the beginning of her friendships with the other senior staff, too.

the original first scene, before I decided to add a prologue, was going to be Josh dropping Donna at the Flenders' house for the night, having called in a favor since they don't have a hotel room for her. the Flenders proceed to freak her out by serving some kind of local New Hampshire dinner and a full breakfast at 5am. that will all still happen, of course. basically I want to fill in the gaps!

here's a bit of the prologue. I hate writing opening lines, and this is one of my favorites because it's the rare one I actually like:

In Massachusetts, she almost lost her nerve. The broken-hearted rage that had propelled her across six states faltered as she waited to merge onto I-495 and it occurred to her, finally, how crazy this was. She could get off at the next exit, turn the car around, and go home. She could stay with her parents, hold her head high, grit her her teeth through the humiliation. She could do exactly what everyone expected of her.  A space appeared on the interstate; she nestled her dusty car between a shiny red sedan and an old silver van. Flying down the highway, she thought of the life she was leaving behind. Her dead-end job, her unfinished education, her tiny apartment, and him. She floored the gas, outrunning her doubts, her fears, her insecurities. 

I will be doing strawberry fields in another ask but just a quick (lol) rundown of the other two west wing fics:

the ellsberg variant

the ellsberg variant is called that because it sounds cool but it's also descriptive. Daniel Ellsberg worked at the state department and leaked the pentagon papers (this is in the movie the post) and in retaliation a group of guys better known for other work broke into his psychiatrist's office and tore the place up. either they were just trying to intimidate him, or they were looking for his file to find embarrassing information and just didn't find it because they were incompetent (the other work was Watergate). so I thought, what if that happened to Josh, but they actually did just get pictures or copies of the file and leave without evidence?

so in my imagining, burglars break into a psychiatrist's office in Virginia or Maryland because they know there are high profile clients, and just get photos and copies of any files they can, to sell to whoever might be interested. the Republicans plan to use the information to embarrass Josh during the hearings, like they did with Leo, but Bartlet takes the censure deal before they get the chance, so they end up dumping it in a tabloid in order to damage Bartlet's re-election campaign with claims that his staff is mentally incompetent and he's too checked out with MS to notice (the headline is "Bartlet's Loony Bin").

the White House finds out when an advance copy is delivered by messenger in a brown envelope to CJ's office. they try to figure out who warned them and why, as well as what they can do about it. CJ enlists Danny to help (without giving him the full story, but he figures a lot out) and he finds out about the break-in, which was downplayed by the security company to avoid embarrassment, meaning the patients (including Josh) were never informed their records may have been compromised.

I'm not sure where exactly it goes from here. the first scene is the delivery of the envelope from Carol's POV. I might have Josh call Mandy in as a personal consultant (I just want to give Mandy real character development) and Amy will probably be involved in some way too. there's definitely a conversation where Josh is worried about the Oval Office incident being made public, and Leo assures him the four people who were there (Josh, Leo, Sam, Jed) won't tell anyone, Josh points out they already did, they told Stanley. Josh tries to resign, naturally, but Jed refuses to let him. I know it ends okay, I just don't know exactly how, or have the intrigue plot worked out. I do have a backstory for the person who sent them the advance copy: an employee at the tabloid who can't afford to quit her job, but thinks printing the story is wrong. her father is a Vietnam vet with PTSD and everything. I don't know if the White House staff ever find out who she is, but it might be fun to end with a flashback to her sending the advance. there's also some exploration of Josh's trust in his therapist being violated and where he goes from there.

don't be a hero

I wrote almost all of don't be a hero on notebook paper during psychology class in college and a couple years ago I finally typed up what I have. in theory it just needs an ending, but I can write so much better now, I started rewriting it, and just haven't gotten around to finishing it.

in 2008, President Santos is giving a speech at a university and presenting an award to a professor who has consulted with the White House on counterterrorism work, when a bomb goes off in the auditorium. The target was the professor, who is Muslim (there had been an Islamophobic hate crime in the news recently when I started this). Santos breaks his arm, Sam gets some cuts when a light falls on him, but the Secret Service does their job and gets them out of there. Josh had stepped out to call Lou, who is back at the White House working on a critical vote, and Donna had gone to get him. Donna hurts her foot and can't walk, so Josh helps her out, and on the way out he thinks he sees someone trapped. While Donna is talking to the paramedics, Josh runs back inside to look for the girl he thinks he saw.

the girl is real and he finds her and is able to unblock the door that was trapping her in, but inhales a lot of smoke in the process and passes out. the girl runs outside and tells the firefighters what happened, and they go in and pull Josh out. the scene has mostly been cleared at this point, but Sam is still looking for Josh, and end up identifying him to the first responders, which contributes to the ensuing media circus when it comes out that the White House Chief of Staff ran into a burning building. Josh wakes up in the hospital and gets chastised by Santos and Donna and also most of the Bartlet era staff via phone. Donna also has a talk with him about how she's proud, but she was terrified. He also has a nice visit with Amanda, the girl he saved.

When I finish the rewrite, I'm adding a storyline where the White House communications staff suggest trying to control what Amanda says to the press, and Josh insists that she's 19 years old and someone tried to kill her, so she can say whatever she wants, but asks CJ to come in and advise her on how to handle the press, for her own wellbeing. Danny also tells Josh he thinks the media attention on the rescue is going to dig up personal history and find out about Joanie, so he should consider making a statement. He tells Lou about Joanie for the first time in the process of preparing that, and Lou wonders why he never told her before.

I think it will end with Josh and Donna's wedding a couple months later.

[sugaxjpg]

ghosts just wanna have fun; m

⤷  When Jungkook discovered that he could communicate with dead people, the last thing he expected was that they would be there to give him romantic advice.

✓ Couple: Jungkook x Reader | Psychic!AU & MedSchool!AU

✓ Filed under: fluff, crack (so many ghost puns), light smut (and jungkook being a nervous virgin) 

✓ Words: 20,062

Author’s Note: In which Jungkook is able to see spirits, but it’s just Taehyung and Yoongi giving him dating tips because he sucks at talking to girls. Hope you guys like it, because it has been on my WIPS for over a year and a half and I can’t believe it’s finally out there... emotional, really.

Also, huge thanks to @storytaeme​, who proof-read this mess like a champ. 

 There aren’t many embarrassing situations that can overcome the fact that Jeon Jungkook found out about his psychic abilities as he was about to lose his virginity. 

To say the least, that hadn’t been the most pleasant of scenarios to open the pathway to the afterlife. Really, there was no casual way that he could justify the scream that broke from his lips, or the dramatic spin he took as he turned around on the bed — which, ultimately, had him falling into the small space between the nightstand and the wall, with his legs up in the air, and his butthole fully exposed for both planes of existence to see. 

Still, that hadn’t been the worst part. If those two pallid silhouettes had merely disappeared once he had seen them, it wouldn’t have been as traumatic — perhaps Jungkook could have found a semi-believable excuse about what he had witnessed — but no. Not only did the ghosts remain there, with their arms crossed before their achromatic clothes and eyebrows slightly raised in expectation, they continued their conversation as if nothing had happened. 

“Oh, he was definitely going to put it in the wrong hole,” the shorter of the two murmured, clearly entertained at the idea. 

The other scoffed. “What if he did?” he threw back. “Maybe he likes that, we can’t judge.”

Truth was that, one way or another, Jungkook couldn’t even figure out what he liked — he didn’t even get the chance. He was gone from his (ex) girlfriend’s place before his brain could even attempt to construct a plausible explanation, even less to digest what had preceded that unfortunate revelation. Now, the wrong hole would forever be a source of trauma for him. 

And the problems didn’t exactly stop there. Ever since his cherry-popping session was interrupted, Jungkook hadn’t been able to move further than the first base, thinking that he would embarrass himself all over again or, worse, be frightened by a random demon passing by. Also, the constant mockery of his ghostly counterparts certainly didn’t help his concentration. 

The worst part? Helping Jungkook was kind of their whole point. And they couldn’t even do that right. 

Taehyung and Yoongi were their names — they told him right after the first night he saw them. Jungkook didn’t know what had happened in the afterlife that they had been punished with such a horrendous mission and, frankly, at that point, he was too afraid to ask. 

“But I don’t need your help,” Jungkook had said after one particularly bad date, dramatically throwing himself onto his bed. The furniture creaked under his weight and he wondered if it would snap before his mind did. “I just want you to leave me alone or, I don’t know, help me with something else — something useful.”

The two ghosts were by his desk, looking at his class notes and, at that comment, Yoongi raised his eyebrows. “Useful? Like what?” He asked. 

“I don’t know, solving crimes or something,” Jungkook mumbled, turning around so he would face the wall. God, he just needed two seconds alone. 

Behind him, Taehyung laughed. “You don’t even know how to open a bra, and you're out there thinking of reopening cold cases? Give me a break.” 

“Ouch,” Jungkook whispered. Maybe another time, it would’ve hurt his pride a bit more. That night, however, he was too tired to care. “For your information, I do know how to open a bra. You two just started whispering and it distracted me.” 

“We were whispering to you the instructions on how to open a bra,” Yoongi responded. “Would you need those if you knew what you were doing? No.” 

Jungkook sighed. “I just—”

“This conversation is done, we went over this already.” Yoongi interrupted. “You need us, whether you want it or not. You’re painfully bad at romance, Jungkook, even worse at initiating sex. I’ve never seen something like that before.” 

At that, Jungkook rolled on the bed and faced them. There was only one light in his bedroom that was on — the table lamp — and its clear orange shade passed through them both in an odd mixture of contours and lines. “Maybe if I could do it myself, without you two buzzing around the place, it wouldn’t be so bad,” he responded, aggressive. 

“Calm down. You were already bad enough when we arrived,” Taehyung told him, leaning over to see all the scattered pages on his desk. He frowned once he saw something he couldn’t quite understand, and quickly turned away from it. “Nothing changed much.” 

“Right!” Jungkook sat up on the bed. “Isn’t that enough of a sign for you two to stop trying to help me, then?” 

“No,” Yoongi said calmly. “That’s a sign that we have to try harder. And so do you.” 

He sneered. “I absolutely don’t.” 

“Yes, you absolutely do,” he said. “You know what? Grab your phone and get yourself a date with that girl you like from physiology class. Two weeks from now.” 

There was a second of silence as Jungkook’s mind struggled to piece the idea together. He wasn’t even sure about who Yoongi was referring to, there were a lot of girls in his class. “What? Why?” 

“Just trust us. She’s into you,” Yoongi spoke. 

Taehyung nodded in agreement. “It’ll work out.” 

Jungkook scoffed. “When does it, really?” 

“This time, it will,” Taehyung said. “Really. Do it.” 

“Fine.” He breathed out, reaching for his phone. “What girl?” 

Yoongi looked him up and down. “You know what girl.” 

With a deep breath, Jungkook scrolled over his contact list, struggling to find someone that he would have even the slightest chance with. Truth was, he has no fucking clue of which one of the hundred and fifty people in his class would even look in his direction, much less go on a date with him. 

“You do know… right?” Taehyung asked, clearly worried. “We can’t really give you names, but you… know, right?” 

“What? Oh, yeah, yeah! Sure I do!” Jungkook laughed nervously, clicking on a random name and opening a chat. “Here, I’m sending her a text right now. No reason to worry… no reason at all.” 

“Good,” Yoongi said, distracted. “Now, if you need us, we’ll be watching Gone Girl with your neighbors. We already missed the start of the movie, and I’m pissed off as it is.”

Taehyung nodded. “Amazing movie,” he said. Jungkook pressed send and prayed for the best. “We should have more movie nights over here.” 

 Yoongi said something in agreement and, in a second, they were already gone. Jungkook was left alone in his bedroom, with the light of his lamp casting over his features the desperation that he was feeling inside. 

“This better work,” he mumbled to himself. “You two better not be trying to embarass me.”

_____________

And then, two weeks later, Yoongi and Taehyung were laughing at him as his last failed attempt at romance got up from her chair and basically ran away from him.

Yoongi leaned back against the chair, his ankles crossed over the large table. If someone else could see him then, he surely would have received a few complaints about keeping the mall under semi-sanitary conditions. “Jungkook, I’ll tell you something,” he started, clearly amused. “You’re so bad at romance that I wish I was alive just so I could punch some reason into you.”

Taehyung, who had stayed mostly quiet during the painfully awkward interaction, walked beside Jungkook and chuckled at his distress. Still, he was focused on the other ghost, and the implication of his speech. “That amount of violence is the exact reason why you’re no longer alive, Yoongi,” he pointed out, then turned to Jungkook before he could smirk at the reprehension. “But really, that was awful. If I weren’t spiritually tied to you, I would’ve given up by now. You’re hopeless.”

“Completely out of it,” Yoongi added. “Do you even know how women work?” 

Jungkook rolled his eyes, and reached for his phone: there was no way he would enter a discussion with those invisible pricks in a public situation without something to mask it. Not that it would have been the first time.  

Yoongi materialized on the seat next to Jungkook, his head leaning against his hand. The boy was already used to those sudden changes of position, but that didn’t mean that he liked it. In fact, after Taehyung had appeared next to him during a particularly bad time — in which the incognito tab had already been opened, and a bottle of lotion already waited for him — he could never erase the intense panic of such experiences. 

But of course, Yoongi knew that, and he used his discomfort for his own entertainment. “You can’t ignore us, kiddo,” he said slowly, clearly amused. “And you can’t ignore the fact that you’ll die alone, surrounded by cats, if you don’t start listening to what we have to say. We have been tied to you for a reason.”

“And the reason,” Taehyung added, “is to make you stop cockblocking yourself.” 

With a subdued groan, Jungkook pressed his phone against his ear — an old trick that allowed for him to have a conversation without being seen as clinically insane by passersby. “You two are the reason why this date went downhill,” he told them. “You told me to say all the wrong things. You two set this up knowing I’d fail.” 

“Oh, no.” Taehyung shook his head in disagreement. “The words were right. Your delivery was awful.” 

“Western-movie-awful,” Yoongi added. “And if you want to change that, you have to trust us.” 

“Trust you? Where has that taken me?” Jungkook questioned, irritated. “You’re the reason why I lost my first girlfriend and haven’t had another one ever since.” 

Yoongi chuckled. “The girl from the first night? She never talked to you again after that, did she?” He asked, but, of course, he already knew the answer. “Damn, that was cringe-worthy. Butt in the air and everything.”

“No need to remind me, I was there.” Jungkook clenched his jaw, trying to control his demeanor. It wasn’t fair that there was not much that he could do to make the two men shut up — since they were, quite literally, already dead, he didn’t have many threats to utter. “And whose fault was that?” 

“Technically, yours.” Taehyung shrugged. “We didn’t present ourselves to you, you just saw us all of a sudden. We were just as surprised.”

“Besides, you were the one that had the B.F.,” Yoongi added. 

Jungkook raised one eyebrow. “B.F.?”

“Bitch fit,” Taehyung elucidated. “He watched White Chicks with your neighbors last night, don’t worry about it.” 

Jungkook groaned, pressing his hand against his face. Of course — the cherry on top would be outdated pop references, as expected. Yoongi had always been quite fond of the classic ‘with great power comes great responsibility’, and Jungkook thought that the overuse of that quote would be the ultmost reason for his insanity. Nevertheless, he came to understand that it was nothing compared to movies like White Chicks or even Legally Blonde. He would rather hear Uncle Ben’s famous line a billion times over before Yoongi accused him of having a B.F. once more. 

He took a deep breath and tried to focus on the environment around him. The murmurs and disembodied conversations around the mall had morphed into the sound of irritating insects, and he felt as if the earth could just open up and eat him alive. He probably committed a terrible crime in a past life to be stuck with Tweedledee and Tweedledum like that. 

“Anyways,” Jungkook stressed, “it didn’t seem like the two of you were surprised that I could see you. You just kept… talking about me. And my ass.”

Taehyung chuckled. “You were the one with the ass up in the air.” He vanished, then materialized in the seat in front of Jungkook. “What were we supposed to do? Ignore it?” 

“It was an easy target,” Yoongi spoke, then seemed to realize the words that had left his mouth. “Wait, I didn’t mean the double interpretation.” 

“Why can’t the two of you just fucking help me for once?” Jungkook asked aggressively. In a nearby table, one old man raised his eyes from his vegan burger and stared the boy up and down in disapproval. Jungkook lowered his voice and switched his phone to the other ear. “This is unbearable. You two are only making it worse.” 

With a gesture that Jungkook knew all too well, Taehyung used his thumb to point over his shoulder, towards the path that his failed date had followed. “That one wasn’t good enough for you,” he said nonchalantly. “We can tell. We know stuff.” 

“Then why did you set this up in the first place?” He asked, exasperated. 

“As DJ Khaled says, you played yourself,” Yoongi cited. One more reference and Jungkook would be the one joining the world of the dead. “It’s not our fault that you get nervous and can’t deliver the lines right. When have the two of us ever failed?”

“When you died,” he spoke back. “Or did you forget the stupid mistake you made?”

Yoongi hesitated. As much as he tried to play it cool, he wasn’t the smartest one around. In fact, his tragically premature death was all the evidence Jungkook needed to make his point clear. 

During his living days, Yoongi was pretty invested in rock climbing. On a beautiful summer afternoon, just as the sun was setting over the green-bathed hills, one of his friends dared him to bungee jump from the same cliff they had just climbed, and were standing on. Of course, the man agreed promptly, saying that he wouldn’t back out from such a mundane task; stating repeatedly that the fall wouldn’t be so high up anyway. But that wasn’t the turning point: Min Yoongi, in all his adventurousness, quickly decided that his local shop was too expensive and that he would create his own bungee jump cord instead. 

According to him, making the cord proved itself to be quite an easy task. He had gotten some help from his local adrenaline addicts and the final product was a very good copy of the factory-made ones. He measured the cliff twice just to be certain, compared it to the rope, and made sure to test the sustentation and elasticity as many times as he could. 

Still, Yoongi had overlooked an imperative detail: he shouldn’t use a cord that was the same height as the cliff he was jumping from. 

Needless to say, he only realized his mistake once he was already dead. 

Yoongi scoffed at the memory, ignoring his hurt pride. He swore he could still feel his back hurting when he thought about that. “That isn’t the point,” he said. He often did that: changed the subject once he realized he couldn’t leave with the upper hand. “The point is that you keep delivering lines like you’re a bad boy in a South American novela, then expect us to perform a miracle on you.” 

Jungkook frowned, lowering his head. “That’s actually so wrong.” 

But the problem was: Yoongi was right, and Jungkook knew it. In fact, that had been the exact reason why his date had left him that night — the boy had misunderstood Taehyung’s advice to play off as a mysterious man, and instead projected his image somewhere between a psychopath and a person that had only K-dramas as a basis of how human interactions were supposed to work. Jungkook missed his attempts at romance the entire time, but the breaking point was when Yoongi told him to act as a bad influence because, according to him, girls dig a good bad boy. 

Once again, Yoongi wasn’t the brightest mind when it came to risk-taking. That was why he was more dead than Jungkook’s bedroom. 

Jungkook, however, did not realize his own errors until it was too late. He had chuckled at his date’s embarrassment, using his opening to delicately place her hair behind her ear. “I’m going to tell you something,” he started, voice swift and placid as a river. With his eyebrows raised and his lips vaguely forming a pout, he looked like an off-brand version of Handsome Squidward. “I’m not really a good influence, and surely not the kind of guy you’d like to get with. So why don’t you do me a favor and follow the simple orders I give you, uh?”

Her eyes had widened in a mixture of second-hand embarrassment and fear. From the corner of his eyes, Jungkook saw her reaching for her purse over the table. “No, thank you,” she was quick to say. “I don’t think this will work, sorry. I’ll see you around college.” 

And that’s how they ended at that point. The point they always seemed to end up in. 

“I think I need a break from all of this,” Jungkook said, closing his eyes for a moment of peace. “I have a huge test next week and I couldn’t even study for it because of all the preparation for this stupid date. Can you two just take a step back? Just for a little while. Romance can’t be all that I think about.”

As he opened his eyes, he saw Taehyung staring at him. He couldn’t really read his expression. 

And, without an answer, the two of them vanished. 

_________________

If someone asked Jungkook why the hell he thought going to medical school was a good idea, he’d simply say that, at the time, it made sense. After all, he had thought, he’d be some sort of super-doctor, since he had an exclusive VIP pass to the afterlife — just imagine how many people he would be able to help just by asking a friendly ghost what was wrong with a patient. It would be a game-changer. He could even find the cure of cancer if he tried hard enough. 

But of course, he quickly realized that he should’ve thought further about his decision. Maybe being a detective would have made much more sense — it would have been a lot cheaper, that’s for sure, and he wouldn’t have to sit through almost twelve hours of classes every single day for a diploma that seemed to be too far away for him to care. 

That particular class, however, wasn’t the worst one out there. 

It was Tuesday, and Tuesday meant Pathology. Jungkook loved that class because the professor hated teaching it, so the students had to sit in silence for about three hours trying to read the textbook by themselves. The professor said he would be there to answer any questions, but he was mostly scrolling through his phone and interrupting students every time they tried to ask him something — “That’s in the textbook, just keep reading.”  

Most of his classmates absolutely despised that subject, but Jungkook thought it was wonderful: he often learned better by himself anyways, and the lack of conversation during class brought him some sense of peace. Besides, Yoongi and Taehyung hated sitting in that quiet room for too long, so they mostly left after ten or twenty minutes of trying — and failing — to strike up a conversation with Jungkook. It was the perfect day.

Well, most days it was. 

Just as he was about to move forward to the next topic — Adrenal Insufficiency and Addison’s Disease — , the boy felt something poking his bicep and he was quick to turn to his side. Instantly, he recognized your expectant gaze and something fluttered inside his stomach. 

“Hey, Jungkook,” you whispered, leaning over your desk, “is tomorrow afternoon still up? I really need help in cardiac physiology. I kind of suck.”

He hummed in agreement, fighting against the nervousness that crept up on him. Jungkook’s palms started to sweat just by looking at you, he really was one step away from reverting back to his pre-teen days. “For sure. I’ll be at yours at five,” he managed to get out. 

“Thank you so much,” you said, then moved back against your seat. “I owe you one.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled. If it had been anyone else, Jungkook would’ve had a stroke by then — after all, he wasn’t always invited to a girl’s place so easily. That’s someone that I have absolutely no chance with, he thought. So friendzoning himself made everything much easier. “Are you sure you don’t want to meet up at the library?” 

“I can’t really concentrate there,” you answered. “But if you prefer, we could go.” 

“No, no.” He shook his head. “Your place is fine.” 

You smiled again, and Jungkook thought that maybe being shot wouldn’t hurt so much. “Thanks. See you at five.” 

Jungkook nodded and turned around, facing his laptop. Just as he was about to restart typing his notes, he saw a known reflection at the corner of his computer. Oh, God, have mercy.

Yoongi’s reflection smirked from the back row. “Oh, man, she’s so into you.”

 Jungkook shook his head in denial, eyes still glued to the PDF file in front of him. If anything, his classmates would have just guessed he was finding that subject more difficult than usual and, quite frankly, no one could judge him. 

“No?” Yoongi raised one eyebrow, reappearing by his side with his hand supporting his cheek. Jungkook didn’t even need to look at him to know that he was just looooving the discomfort that grew inside his limbs. “I know those things, kiddo. It’s my job.”

From the front seat, Taehyung hummed in agreement. He had his arm placed over the chair, and seemed to find that entire situation a bit boring — maybe because he had seen it countless times before. “She definitely wants to get some of that,” he said. “We are proud of you, son.” 

With a subdued sigh, Jungkook scribbled some aggressive words at the corner of his notebook, and showed it to the man by his side. “Look at this, Taehyung, he’s trying to convince us that they’re just friends,” Yoongi mocked, crossing his arms. “That’s cute. Just because you’re that oblivious, it doesn’t mean that we are.”

“Jungkook, we’ve been watching the two of you talk the entire semester,” Taehyung added. “Besides, Yoongi made me follow her around once. She’s definitely into you. In unholy ways.”

Yoongi nodded once again. “She wants to be your boo.”

“Was that a fucking ghost pun?” Taehyung’s nose cringed up in disgust, and Jungkook had to fight back the reflex of laughing at his reaction. “Awful.”

“At least I’m not the one who ghostwrote Jungkook’s ethics essay.” Yoongi threw back. “Yeah, and that was another pun. You’ve got no spirit.” 

“You know what? Now I know why Jungkook can’t stand us anymore.” Taehyung smirked and, then and there, Jungkook knew exactly what was coming. “He can see right through us.”

The other ghost nodded. “Yeah, we’ve reached a dead end.” 

Jungkook groaned in exasperation, hiding his face behind his hands. “This is torture.”

Next to him, you chuckled. “Come on, pathology isn’t even that bad. You’re good at this.” 

“I know, I’m just tired.” He turned around to look at you, uttering the same excuse he had been using this entire semester. Not that it was an uncommon one, especially in the fifth circle of hell that was medical school. “I think I need to splash some cold water on my face. Wake myself up.”

You hesitated, staring at him as he stood up.  Jungkook looked strangely pale, like he was about to throw up all over the classroom. “Is everything okay?”

Fantastic! My bachelor ghosts are just making me have a nervous breakdown. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” He said, almost stumbling over your chair. Some of your pens fell down, but Jungkook couldn’t even bring himself to get them. He’d probably just knock everything else over in the process, and he wasn’t even sure that he could stand back up after. “Shit— Sorry. I’ll be right back.”

Behind him, Yoongi chuckled. “Spook-tacular skills, as always.”

_____________

The sound of running water was all that entered Jungkook’s mind for a moment, his face feeling the coldness of the liquid as he splashed himself once, twice, trying to clear his thoughts. In the end, it was mostly in vain: his class was ruined, his notes were left unfinished, and he couldn’t get a second of tranquility anymore — not even in Pathology. If he weren’t canonized after his death, he would file a complaint for sure. 

Abruptly, he closed off the faucet and the water stopped running. There was a heavenly instant of quietness, in which Jungkook followed the crystalline droplets falling from his hair to the sink, before Yoongi’s voice echoed behind him. “How you doin’, champ?” 

Jungkook sighed and raised his head, looking at his ghost counterpart through the dirty mirror. “Is the bathroom empty?” he asked calmly. 

“Hm? Yeah,” Yoongi said. “The ghost is clear.”

Just like that, his serenity was gone. “Yoongi, can you fucking stop? Your puns stopped being funny after the third attempt,” Jungkook asked, exasperated. He pulled some paper towels, and got even angrier at the way they fell apart in his hands. Good to know his college money was being used wisely. “Jesus. Where is Taehyung?”

“You know he hates toilet paper,” Yoongi told him. “Reminds him of his death.”

Jungkook considered the compelling idea of banging his head against the bathroom wall until he, himself, was part of the world of the dead. As he recalled very well, Taehyung had been a victim of Final-Destination-levels of misfortune: just because he had forgotten to take toilet paper to his camping trip, the boy had been forced to use nearby leaves. Those, as he would soon come to understand, caused an awful allergy on his lower lands, and the punctual bleeding was a sufficient opening for opportunistic diseases. The culprit? Some super strange bacteria that floated around the river. He was dead less than twenty hours after he came back home from septic shock.  

Taehyung had endured, quite frankly, one shitty death. And, yes, Yoongi had made that joke a few too many times before. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Jungkook realized. “What did I tell you two about chit-chatting with me in large public places? Especially my classes? I have to pay attention. And I have a test in two days, I need to be all here, and not thinking about other people.” 

Yoongi giggled — almost childishly so — at the other’s anguished attitude. His teeth, a pallid shade of white, could barely be seen against the olive-green tiles that covered the bathroom walls. “You weren’t paying attention to the processes of intestinal inflammation, that’s for sure,” he teased, forcing himself to hold back his jokes a bit. 

“I wasn’t even studying that chapter,” Jungkook mumbled. 

Even Yoongi, who had a dense personality for such a diaphanous soul, could tell that the student was not in the mood for mockery. “Man, why are you so stuck-up? Taehyung and I are ghosts, but you’re the one with the dead sense of humor.”

Jungkook realized he needed a moment to think before he started yelling at nothing in a public bathroom. He really hoped the other stalls were empty, but he couldn’t be bothered to check. 

“This isn’t about the puns. You two just don’t respect my privacy,” Jungkook said. This time, he was able to pull some good paper towels and proceeded to dry his face. “This has been going on for too long. Why don’t you two just vanish for some time?”

“Wish I could, kiddo, but I’ve got hours to clock,” Yoongi finally admitted. From the mirror, he could see the frown of confusion that was cast over Jungkook’s features. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m only following rules. Talk to the big guy upstairs if you want to complain.”

He threw the paper on the trash and shook his head in confusion. “I just don’t see the point of any of this.” 

“You don’t have to.” Yoongi took a step closer. He often looked so unbothered — the two of them, actually — that Jungkook caught himself wondering which certainties they held, notions that would most likely be given after death. “Just do what we tell you to do.”

“That has only embarrassed me so far,” he said, turning around. “I don’t think I have it in me to trust in you two one more time. It has gotten me nowhere. Or, rather, nowhere good.”  

Yoongi sighed. “Alright, let’s do it like this, then: You go and help Y/N with her cardio whatever stuff, and Taehyung and I just watch. We promise to shut up, unless you’re doing something seriously embarrassing. Other than that, absolute silence.”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. “You promise you two won’t tell me what to say?”

“Promise.” Yoongi nodded. He looked very sincere. “We won’t talk to you.” 

“I can live with that, yeah,” Jungkook agreed, leaning against the bathroom sink. “Sounds good.”

“Perfect.” He smiled. “Trust me, Jungkook. I only made one mistake in my life.”

Jungkook smirked. “And it killed you.”

“Not the point.” He raised one finger, clearly annoyed, then pointed it at Jungkook. “You’ll do great. It’s not like you’re gonna tell her about us or something.” 

He laughed. “Yeah, that’d be awful.” 

________________

But that was, ultimately, what he did.

To be fair, it was never Jungkook’s intention. He was completely sure that it would ruin not only his friendship with you, as it would also ruin his reputation, both as a student and as a future physician. Come on, how would he even explain that? How could he tell anyone that he not only saw two obnoxious ghosts, but that they were there to give him romantic (and sometimes sexual) advice? That’s insanity. 

Spoiler: he didn’t explain it very well. 

In the cosmic perspective, however, it was kind of Yoongi’s fault too. He had the problem of giving away too much sometimes, especially when he was alone and free from Taehyung’s scrutiny. And it was that extra bit of information that catalyzed the explosion that would become Jungkook’s confession. 

For some reason or another, Taehyung hadn’t joined the two of them that day, as Jungkook crossed the campus towards your place. For the first time in a long time, their conversation — which was, again, masked by Jungkook pretending to be on the phone — was actually quite pleasant. Yoongi had told him a bit more about his life back in the day and explained that he was studying to become a lawyer when he died. 

“I was thinking of dropping out anyways,” he said. “I just picked a random thing to study because I didn’t know what I wanted to do. And, well, I kind of did drop off. Just not from the course.” 

Jungkook could not help but laugh at the absurdness of it all. Sad coincidences aside, it was unusual for Yoongi to make jokes about his death. Taehyung was much more open about it, but Yoongi seemed to be very bitter because of the way and the time he passed. But of course, who was Jungkook to judge? 

“You know,” Yoongi started after a moment of quietude. “Taehyung and I were pretty surprised that day at the mall.”

Jungkook frowned. “Hm? Why is that?” 

The other man chuckled. “Honestly? Because you’re dumber than we thought.”

Seems like pleasant times didn’t last much between the two of them. “We’ve established that I can’t talk to girls, Yoongi, I know.” Jungkook really wanted to change the subject. 

“No, not that,” he denied. “Let’s go back a little. Remember what we told you in your bedroom that night? To get the physiology girl.”

Jungkook nodded. “Yeah, what about it?”

Yoongi laughed, amazed that Jungkook still didn’t get it. “You called the wrong one, idiot,” he explained. 

“What?” Jungkook paused in his tracks and, in a mindless reflex, forgot he was supposed to be talking on the phone, and looked directly at Yoongi, lowering the device away from his ear. “There is a right one?” 

“Hey, pay attention to your surroundings.” Yoongi pointed at a couple that also stopped, confused at the man’s actions. Jungkook cleared his throat, trying to regain some composure after that minor instant of public humiliation, and placed the phone back against his ear. “Let’s keep walking.”

With his heart beating insanely fast against his chest, Jungkook did as he was told. His mind was flooded with fragmented thoughts, working around words that seemed so simple, yet held so much.

“Yes, there is a right one — and you’re going towards her right now.” Yoongi responded, placing his ghostly hands inside his ghostly pockets. Jungkook never noticed that he still used the clothes that he had on when he died, but Yoongi wouldn’t be the first one to mention. “So don’t make a fool out of yourself. Not this time.” 

Jungkook swallowed dry, feeling as panic started to climb up his lower limbs, weighing down on his muscles. His throat was dry as a desert and forming sentences proved to be a far more difficult task than he had anticipated. The air around campus had suddenly become hot for an autumn day, unable to enter his lungs with ease. He really was two steps away from a full-blown anxiety attack. 

Yoongi frowned. “You good?” 

Jungkook licked his lips, only half aware of his actions. “Y-Yeah,” he struggled to get out. “Just kind of a bomb that you just dropped on me, that’s all.” 

Yoongi nodded, uninterested. “Yeah. Get over it. It’s not a huge deal.” 

Only, it was. For Jungkook, at least. What if you two were… you know? Meant to be? Like the soulmates kind of thing; star-crossed lovers. Like in the “we got married after two months of dating and we are still together after sixty years” kind of insane love? That was a lot to process, a lot to think about, especially when he was having like three different crises at once. It was a recipe for a disaster. 

Jungkook really was dumb when it came to anything besides his textbooks, but not for jumping into those conclusions. Frankly, most people would’ve been a bit overwhelmed by that. 

No, his problem would reside on his next thought: If you two were meant to be, you would understand if, for some reason, he had to tell you about his ghosts, right? 

Right?

_______________

To be fair with Yoongi, he did keep his promise. The two didn’t interrupt your conversation once, even if sometimes the moment begged for it, and Jungkook was two words away from ruining everything. Strangely enough, things seemed to work themselves out — the horrible jokes that Jungkook uttered seemed to suit your sense of humor; the shy and nervous demeanor that plagued his dates slowly melted away. It was good — in fact, it was the best talk he’s had with someone in a long, long time. 

The issue was that, as much as the two of them didn’t talk directly to Jungkook, they still talked. 

“What was that thing that she said, you know, to her friends?” Yoongi mumbled, his words coming out as a vague connection of syllables being formed at the corner of his mouth. He had his arms crossed, and his legs pushed up on the couch. “You told me that.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung took a moment to think. He had one of his hands buried deep inside the pockets of his white pants, and the other on the back of the couch. The two of them watched the conversation that unfolded above your living room table, the two of you trying to make sense of a subject that seemed to change every five minutes. “It was like ‘homeboy can like, get it’... or something.” 

Yoongi nodded, satisfied. “Nice.” 

Jungkook cleared his throat, trying to ignore that comment. It wasn’t news that you were interested in him — that had been the only thing Yoongi and Taehyung had told him for the past few hours, but it was very, very awkward to know those specific details. He was sure he wouldn’t like you to know the private conversations that he had with his friends, even less about the things he thought about when he was alone. There was something extremely violating about that, but, no matter how hard he tried to convince them, the two ghosts didn’t seem to care enough to stop. 

The giggle that came from across the table ruptured his thoughts. “Why are you blushing?” You asked.

“I’m… uh…” he struggled, suddenly feeling the heat that emanated from his cheeks. Wonderful. Even when he was just thinking about something, he still managed to make a fool of himself. “Just… thinking about some embarrassing things I did in third grade. The usual.” 

“Yeah, I’ve been there.” You smiled, reaching for the textbook across the table, and flipping through the pages. “I ruined this entire science project once. It was something about the pollination of flowers, but I missed that class. Ended up coming back to a lot of roses around the classroom, and decided to take a few of them home to my mom.”

“Oh no.” 

“Yep,” you nodded, looking back at him. Jungkook thought that he had lost himself in your eyes for a moment, a depth so engulfing that he couldn’t find the right words once he stared at it. He had never noticed how beautiful you were — or, rather, he had, but he had never stopped to think about it — and, now, it seemed as if that was the only thing that he could focus on. “Everyone in class was super pissed, the teacher even tried to suspend me.”

He shook his head, trying to imagine a mini-you justifying your flower thievery in front of the principal. “That’s insane, actually.”

“Kind of.” You shrugged, looking back at the book. You weren’t sure what you were searching for anymore, so you decided to close it. You two had been studying for almost four hours straight, you didn’t think that your brain could handle any more of that. “They didn’t really believe me when I told them it was a mistake. Guess no one even noticed my absence the day before, which is… somehow… even worse, now that I think about it.” 

A giggle reverberated in your throat as you dove into those forgotten memories, and Jungkook followed you. 

“Don’t laugh at child me, that’s so cruel.” You smiled. 

“I’m not.” He shook his head. “I just thought you were cute. Still are, you never really stopped being cute, I mean. You’re actually really pretty now, like a woman—” 

“I got it.” You placed your hands over his, and the shock of your skin against his seemed to spread throughout his entire body. He didn’t know if that was a soulmate thing of if he was just really horny. Probably a bit of both. “Don’t worry about it. You’re pretty cute too. Like a man.”  

“Thanks.” Jungkook itched the back of his neck, trying to find the right words to build his sentence. Panic began bubbling at the bottom of his stomach, sinking its teeth into his flesh as his words left his throat. “Actually, I wanted to ask you something.” 

It was the right time now: the studying was over, the conversation was flowing, you had told him that you thought he was cute — like a man. Now, he just needed to ask you out. Just that. That’s it. Three words. He had practiced: Wanna go out? That’s it. So casual. So playboy-esque. He could do it. No pressure. If you were the one, he didn’t have much to get wrong. 

But, oh my god, what if he got everything wrong? I mean, how many stories are out there of couples who were destined for each other, but something happened and it pulled them apart forever? The wrong time, the wrong place — the wrong words. Jungkook wasn’t psychologically prepared to ruin something so huge with a moment so small. He needed to calm down and focus. Just get the words out. Everything would sort itself out after that. He had faith. 

“What is it?” You asked. 

Jungkook cleared his throat, his eyes still glued to the touch of your hand against his. Outside, birds were chirping, unaware of the absolute shitstorm that was about to ensue. “So…” he started, “I was thinking that maybe I could— I mean, you — I mean we could...”

You tilted your head to the side, confused. “Sorry, what was that?” 

He blinked once, twice, fighting against the wave of sheer terror that had taken over his brain, whitening out his thoughts. He had the sentence ready, but he had forgotten how to form it. “I’m just trying… I’m just trying here to just…” He swallowed dryly. “I was just wondering if you would like to… I mean, if it’s not a problem—”

From the other side of the room, Yoongi groaned. “Just do it! You’re making eternity so much longer.”

And that’s when it happened. 

Jungkook turned around and yelled: “You told me you wouldn’t talk, you asshole!”

The entire room froze. A horrible moment of bewildered reticence followed as  the realization crashed upon him like a gigantic wave. He couldn’t have just yelled at nothing in front of you, like an absolute madman, could he? 

Your eyes widened and you pulled your hand away from his. The lack of warmth was like a dagger being thrown directly into his heart. “Excuse me?”

Yep. He totally did that. 

“Not you!” He was quick to turn around — maybe a bit too quick, too intensely. Even with nervousness clouding his vision, Jungkook could still see the shadow of fear and confusion mingling amongst your features. He had ruined everything, and that was all that he could think about. “I’m just... personalizing my anxiety...”

“Are you... alright?” You spoke slowly, measuring his actions. Jungkook had changed from cute-nervous to absolutely-unhinged-nervous; eyes widened and jaw clenched; hands gripping the wooden chair like his life depended on it. Maybe that study session was a mistake. Maybe you should’ve just googled an online class, like your best friend told you to. “It looks like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

Taehyung chuckled. “That’s pretty funny.” 

And, if the situation wasn’t already bad enough, Jungkook started to convince himself that perhaps it would be a good idea to come clean with you about his psychic abilities — maybe that was actually the only way that he could get out of that mess. If you were his soulmate, you’d understand. It’d all be okay. Yeah, maybe you’d be seriously creeped out for like the first twenty minutes, just like he had been, but eventually you’d understand what had happened. You two would laugh about it later, maybe when you were sixty, on your rocking chairs somewhere, staring lovingly at a cornfield. 

Was he losing it? Probably. But he didn’t have the right amount of mental clarity to fully think about the consequences of his actions in that moment. 

“I… did,” Jungkook spoke sluggishly, barely comprehending the trail of words that dripped from his tongue. His voice was much calmer, but he could still feel like his entire body was engulfed by flames. “I did... see a ghost. Two actually.” 

You frowned. This afternoon couldn’t possibly get any worse. “What are you talking about?” 

“Jungkook, don’t you dare,” Yoongi warned, but his voice seemed to come from miles away. 

Slowly, as if he wasn’t really aware of his own body moving, Jungkook adjusted his position on the chair, looking down at the sea of handwritten notes in front of him. He wished that human interaction was as easy as the types of pulmonary volumes, or perhaps the changes of oxygen inside the hemoglobin. That he knew. That he could deal with.

“Ok so, have you ever watched The Emperor’s New Groove?”

You blinked twice, puzzled. “What?”

“The Disney movie,” he clarified, looking up at you. 

You shook your head, measuring how long it would take for you to bolt out of the door and run away from your own apartment. Maybe you could get out and then call someone for help. You wished you had already taken Psychiatry. “I know what that is, Jungkook, but I just don’t understand where you’re getting at.”

“Maybe it’s in the TV series that came after the movie, I don’t know, but Kronk has these two little beings on his shoulders, a devil and an angel.” He cleared his throat, and looked back at the sheets of paper. It was so hard to stare at you now, when just seconds before, it had been so easy. “I kinda have the same thing, only, they’re dead people. You know, ghosts. And they’re not on my shoulders — that’d be pretty awful, actually.” 

Taehyung mumbled from across the room, “I really don’t think this is a good idea, Jungkook.” 

“You’re making no sense right now,” you said, worried about the effect that your words could have on him. “I think… I think it would be better if you left.” 

“I can see dead people, okay?” Jungkook interrupted, exasperated. You had to understand. You were the right girl from physiology class, you had to understand. 

“Okay, Sixth Sense.” You laughed nervously. Bad time for a joke, you thought, but the boy barely seemed to process it. “Listen, I can tell you’re not doing very well right now, so you should probably leave, maybe clear your head a bit. You already helped me a lot—”

“No, I don’t need that. My head is clear—”

“You know, there is a very good mental health clinic in campus, I’ve gone there already, and I think—” 

“No! I don’t need mental health, it’s true!” Jungkook stood up, walking towards the couch, where the two dead men sat. There was an unspoken contest in the room to see who could be more flabbergasted at the boy’s actions, and you and Yoongi were in a close tie. “I can prove it.” 

You almost choked on air. “You what?” 

Jungkook pointed at nothing. “They’re here right now, I can prove it to you.”

Discombobulated, you shook your head one more time. Maybe if you did that enough, your chaotic thoughts would just fall out of your ears, and everything would be much clearer. Maybe that was a prank, maybe that was a full-blown psychotic breakdown. You just didn’t really know what to do from there. “Jungkook, I don’t think—” 

“Come on, just show yourself to her!” He yelled into the air, more specifically at your white couch. You just wanted to study cardiology, how did it end up like this? “Give me a sign, I don’t know.”

Yoongi chuckled, completely amazed by the way Jungkook continuously broke the Dumb Records that he had previously set himself. No bonus in heaven would be worth dealing with Mr. Smooth Brain over there. He should’ve gone for the orphans instead. “I cannot believe you right now.” He stood up from the couch and sighed, utterly defeated. Maybe he could just get it over with, and then The Big Man Upstairs would show him a bit of mercy. “But I guess now there isn’t much to lose. I’m only doing this because at least it would make this situation a bit better.” 

“How?” Taehyung asked. 

“There’s a slight improvement between psychotic crisis and psychic abilities,” Yoongi responded. He walked towards the window, rolled his eyes at the pathetic presentation of supernatural phenomena, and pulled on the white curtains of your living room. “Here. Boo! Paranormal activity.” 

“Did you see that?” Jungkook asked, excited. 

However, instead of meeting a surprised gaze, he only saw panic and preoccupation swimming inside your eyes. “The curtain moving? Yeah. That was the wind, Jungkook.” You stood up from the chair, measuring your chances at escaping. He was getting more and more erratic, and you didn’t know where the situation could escalate to next. “You’re seriously freaking me out right now. You’re being really aggressive about this.” 

“Yoongi, you’re worse than the spirits in Ghost Hunters,” Taehyung groaned, reappearing next to your living room table. “You have to be bold, that’s what I always say. Make a statement.”

Taehyung’s statement, of course, had been the biggest slap against a lamp that Jungkook had ever witnessed in his life. The ghosts had once told him that it took them a huge amount of concentrated energy to do something as little as move a napkin, so there was no way that Taehyung wouldn’t be exhausted after making that heavy piece of furniture fly against the wall, shattering into a million little pieces with a loud noise. 

“What the fuck?” Jungkook asked. “That was so dangerous! She could’ve gotten hurt.”

He shrugged. “You asked.” 

“What the fuck was that?” You yelled, taking your hands to your face. Was that shared hysteria? What did you just see? Maybe you were the one who needed fresh air and a shrink visit. “You’re pranking me, right? You have like a nylon string wrapped around your hands or something.”

Jungkook moved his head in denial, raising his hands up in a sigh of defeat. “I swear to God, it’s true.” 

“I don’t… I don’t believe you,” you said, clearly terrified. Not at the idea of ghosts, Jungkook realized, but of him. That date surely couldn’t have gone any better. 

Yoongi sighed and materialized behind Jungkook. Lost causes, Yoongi was surrounded by lost causes. “If you really want her to believe you, tell her we can say some stuff about her, but it’ll probably freak her out.”

“They are saying that they can convince you by saying some stuff about you.” Jungkook swallowed dry. Something inside him was screaming for him to just shut the fuck up and leave your building. If there was something he learned by being with the two undead pricks, is that they could always make a situation worse. 

But desperate times require desperate measures. 

You adjusted your posture. Trepidation was still very present in your face, but there was also a small spark of interest swimming somewhere inside your eyes. “I seriously doubt that.” 

“I can show you,” he said. “Just… don’t freak out.”

“Fine.” You licked your lips in anticipation. “The name of my first pet.”

“Is this a password verification?” Yoongi groaned. He just wanted to watch Twitches later that day, but Jungkook just had to start a seance in someone else’s room. Again: the orphans would never. “Fine. It was Mr. Green, a tortoise she killed by leaving to dry in the asphalt.” 

“It was a tortoise, Mr. Green. You left it on the asphalt and it died,” Jugkook repeated without hesitation. 

You blinked twice, taking in the answer. “This is so fucking weird. How did you know that?”

“Yoongi told me.” Jungkook pointed over his shoulder, where Yoongi stared you down. Just by looking in that direction, you felt a shiver run down your spine. You were losing it. “He’s, you know, one of the ghosts.” 

“I’ve never been so exhausted in my life.” You placed one hand against the chair, leaning against it. There was no use to keep that conversation going, and you both knew it — and yet, just like a politician lying, it just didn’t stop. “But you could’ve asked anyone that.”

It was Jungkook’s turn to become completely lost. “Why would I ask such a specific question? I don’t even know your friends.” 

Behind him, he heard another loud groan. “I’m so done with this.” Yoongi placed his hand on his shoulder. “Let me talk, Jungkook.” 

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” He asked.

Yoongi snorted. “We are all out of good ideas. But I think this is the best chance you’ve got.”

“Who are you talking to?” You almost yelled. 

Jungkook looked back at you and, for some reason, the preoccupation in his eyes scared you even further. “Okay, this is going to be really weird, alright? But it’s not gonna be me talking.”

“What?” 

“It’s like… a kind of possession,” he explained, gesticulating a bit more than socially acceptable. “It’s like… uh… One of them is going to use my mouth for a bit. Talk through me.” 

You laughed, and there was a high-pitched sort of timbre to it. That might as well happen. “Sure, of course. What else? Exorcism live?” You asked. 

“Just give me the permission,” Yoongi commanded. 

Jungkook took in a deep breath, and clenched his hands into fists. He hated that part. “Fine,” he consented. 

Gradually, the muscles around his mouth and throat grew numb, as if Jungkook had entered a dream, and his body was responding in autopilot. There was an awful pressure on his shoulders and a ringing in his ears as Yoongi accommodated himself around his body, reaching for control. That was the closest he would ever feel to being a ventriloquist’s puppet, and it was as bad as it could be. 

Yoongi spoke through him with ease: “You told your friends last week that you didn’t care if Jungkook was a shy virgin who played minecraft because he was exactly your type. You also said that your average score in physiology is ninety-seven percent and you didn’t need any help. You just needed an excuse to stay with him. Happy?” 

Jungkook inhaled sharply as the pressure on his body subsided, the numb sensation around his neck growing thinner by the second. “So violating,” he complained. 

“How did you know that?” Your voice shook him back to reality. Both of you were reaching new levels of terror every minute. “Are you stalking me?”

That back and forth was starting to get exhausting. “That wasn’t me. That was Yoongi,” he tried once again. He was starting to think that the whole thing had been a bad idea. 

“Well, fuck you, Yoongi,” you spat. 

Yoongi scoffed. “Fuck you too, princess. Maybe you really don’t deserve this man.”

“I’m not saying that,” Jungkook whispered to him, then turned back to look at you. He wanted to hug you and magically erase your memories for that afternoon, but, in reality, he couldn’t even move his legs without feeling like he could fall face-down on the floor. He really, really, really hated possession. “I’m just… I’m sorry about that.” 

“About what, Danny Phantom?” You asked, throwing your hands up in an exasperated gesture. And there it was: from panic to complete fury. That was all that you two needed at that moment. “About making me scared shitless, or about exposing me like this?” 

He suspired. “Do you at least believe in me now?” 

“Does it look like I believe in you, Jungkook?” You practically screamed. Truth was: neither of you knew that for sure. “I’m a woman of science, you can’t expect me to believe that—”

Taehyung groaned, walking closer to Jungkook. It must’ve been a world record how quickly everyone in that room got angry. “Let me talk,” he requested. 

Jungkook sighed, defeated. How much worse could it possibly get? “Go ahead,” he said.

There it was again: the feeling of being under anesthesia, the weight of an entire other being pressed down against his shoulders. Good times. “Yesterday,” he started, “you masturbated to the thought of Jungkook, but you forgot to recharge your vibrator so you had to use your fingers and you complained the entire time. Explain that, science woman.”

Another deep gasp, and Jungkook was folding over, finding balance on his knees. He really felt like he couldn’t even think straight anymore, his mind covered by a thick fog. 

You didn’t seem to be in a much different situation either. “I’m… gonna pass out.” 

“That was so unnecessary, Taehyung,” Jungkook whispered. His mouth was terribly dry, and his hands were shaking. “You guys really don’t know your limits.” 

“Taehyung? Who the fuck is that?” You screamed. 

Taehyung crossed his arms. “Hey, at least she believes you now.”

“He’s the other ghost. The one with no sense of boundaries.” Jungkook stared at Taehyung, clearly pissed off. Maybe his voice would’ve come out a bit more forceful if he didn’t get thrown around by sadistic spirits. “I’m sorry about that.” 

You shook your head, dumbfounded. “I need you to leave now. And take your ghosts with you.” You leaned over the table, and grabbed his notes, shoving them into a messy pile. Not that you were super worried about the integrity of the paper at a time like that. “This has really crossed like... every line.” 

Jungkook licked his lips, trying to find the right words to say. Someway, he managed to get his legs firm enough so he could start walking in your direction. “Please, I didn’t mean to—” 

You shoved the pile of notes into his backpack, and then the backpack into his hands. Before he could react, you grabbed him by the arm, guiding him towards the exit. “Thanks for helping me, Jungkook.” The door opened with a forceful pull, and you shoved him into the hall. “Never speak to me again. Bye.” 

The bang of the door slamming shut was horribly loud, reverberating inside Jungkook’s chest for a moment longer. Now that the possession daze was starting to move away from his body, the boy could feel the traces of panic crawling inside him. 

Jungkook dropped his backpack to the ground, and started knocking on your door. “Y/N, please!” He called. “I’m so sorry about everything. You have to believe me!” 

Your yell came muffled from the other side of the door. “Go away!” you screamed. “Or I’m calling the cops!”

Defeated, he closed his eyes and placed his forehead against the wood. Now that the situation had already climaxed, the absurdity of it all was starting to become much more palpable. 

How could Jungkook be so stupid? How could he think that you would act normally as you were exposed to the supernatural world? Especially in such distressing, violating ways. Even if you were his meant-to-be, his forever person, it would be ridiculous to believe that anyone would take all  in that with ease. He really outdid himself that time. 

“Let her be, you two can talk another time,”  Yoongi spoke, leaning against the wall. It was possible to see all the places that the pain was starting to crack through his semi-translucent form. “Good attempt, though. I’d give you a star for trying.” 

“This is not funny,” Jungkook mumbled, moving away from the door so you couldn’t hear him. The artificial lights above his head were sharp, buzzing mockingly. “You two keep saying that you’re here to help me, but you keep making stuff like this happen. If she really did like me, you just ruined everything.”

Yoongi raised one eyebrow. “Why do you care so much about that one?”

Jungkook glanced at him. “You told me she’s the one.”

He frowned, crossing his arms. “I told you she was the right girl from physiology class, not that you two were going to die holding hands or something,” Yoongi told him. “You filled the blanks yourself.”

“That’s why we don’t give away all those details,” Taehyung scolded Yoongi, looking at him up and down. Jungkook had never seen him so irritated before — at least not about serious things. “You know we could get in real big trouble if someone heard about that. Which, correct me if I’m wrong, it’s kind of the entire deal of heaven to know about stuff.” 

“I know, I know,” Yoongi groaned, disregarding his preoccupations. Maybe Taehyung didn’t understand his galaxy-brain plan yet, but he was sure that the heavens would. Or at least he hoped so. “But I think there’s something else that we need to focus on. Jungkook wouldn’t care this much about the other girls he dated, even if it was meant to be.” 

“Why are you two talking like I’m not here?” Jungkook asked, annoyed. 

“Why are you talking to yourself like you’re not in a corridor of an apartment building?” Yoongi threw back. Without a second of hesitation, Jungkook picked up his backpack and turned on his heels, walking down the hall, completely done with them. “Hey, come back. Just tell me what’s the fuzz with this one.” 

He didn’t look back. “Aren’t you two supposed to know? All-knowing and shit.” 

“We want to hear it from you,” Yoongi pressed on. 

Jungkook opened the heavy door to the stairwell, allowing for it to hit behind him. Taehyung and Yoongi passed right through it, of course, and kept following him as he quickly moved down the concrete steps. “Y/N is my friend.”

Yoongi hummed. “Go on.”

“Isn’t that enough for a justification? What else do you want from me?” He inquired, aggressive. The sound of his steps echoed like drums through the expansion of the staircase, and he hoped that no one else had been listening to his apparent monologue. “I don’t wanna ruin this friendship by talking about her masturbation techniques, I don’t know if that makes the situation super unique.” 

Taehyung clicked his tongue. “You have other friends.” 

“I care for her, alright?” Jungkook turned around abruptly, making the two ghosts stop in their tracks. Taehyung had almost lost his balance, but it wasn’t as if that could have any serious consequences for him. 

Jungkook sighed, trying to control the anger that had built up so rapidly, and continued speaking. “I care for her more than other friends. Fuck, is that what you two wanted to hear? Besides, it’s not like I know anyone better than her.  I didn’t even think I had a chance with someone like that until you told me. She’s smart, she’s funny, she’s like… super hot when she’s mad—”

“Oh, would you look at that.” Yoongi grinned, satisfied. “Jungkook’s whipped.”

“What?” His eyes widened. “I’m not.”

“Why are you so red?” Taehyung asked.

Jungkook covered his face, feeling the heat of his checks emanating against his palms. “I’m not!”

“Okay, okay, calm down, tiger,” Yoongi raised his hands in a silent request for forgiveness.  They were still a few steps above Jungkook, and the whole scene looked like something straight out of the Book of Revelation. “This is a good thing, we actually thought it would never happen. It’s not like you’ve been this introspective in what… five years? More even.” 

He narrowed his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Yoongi sighed, and looked at Taehyung for confirmation. The other ghost nodded in a silent agreement, and Yoongi started to speak. “Listen, we’re here to help you, but we didn’t say everything,” he admitted. “We couldn’t, really, otherwise it wouldn’t be so... organic.”

“What?” 

“Jungkook, you were desperate to lose your virginity,” Yoongi explained. “You still are, in a way. And that’s not a good thing, because you’ll get the first thing that moves and you’ll try to stick your dick in it.”

Taehyung chuckled drily, looking at a fixed point. “Which is not a good idea, believe me,” he spoke in a mumble, and Jungkook could not help but think that his advice came from personal experience. That, of course, was a story for other, less sober times. 

“Is that why the two of you always interrupt me?” He asked, a bit offended. “Because those girls weren’t right for me? Like this is a purity cult or something?” 

“Eh.” Yoongi did a so-so gesture with his hand. “Kind of. Not really. Doesn’t matter. What matters is that you actually feel something for this girl, something beyond the thoughts that come from your lower head.”

“And she feels something for you too, even after that trainwreck that we just witnessed in there,” Taehyung added patiently. “Which will help us a lot in the long run.”

“This doesn’t make any sense.” Jungkook crossed his arms, stubborn. He really could look and sound like a child throwing a tantrum when he wanted to. “I still don’t get it. It wasn’t your place to tell me who I could or couldn’t be with, it’s not as if you guys are—” 

“Jungkook, that’s enough,” Taehyung interrupted him. “You don’t think it makes sense? Stop and think for once in your life.” 

He narrowed his eyes. “What did you say?” 

Taehyung glanced at him. “Listen, we just saved you from months of wrong dates and wrong nights. We pushed away people who didn’t really care about you, who just wanted you to use you, or who would end up cheating on you anyways. Not everyone gets this privilege,” he said, completely done with that victim mentality. “So, for once in your life, be grateful. Be grateful for the bad dates,  the embarrassment, the times that it didn’t work out. And, look, we are sorry for the way they had to go down, it wasn’t as funny as it seemed from our perspective. But if you didn’t have those bad dates, you’d have very, very bad months following them. So you’re welcome.” 

“And all those bad dates lead you to the right person,” Yoongi completed, watching as Jungkook’s expression withered into shame. He was staring to get it — they could almost see the hamster in his brain start running. “Now, listen, we don’t know if this is the for-life situation, that’s not the kind of information we have, alright? Do I look like a seraphin to you? No. But does it matter?  No. Most relationships aren’t the for-life thing anyways, but they are here to teach you something. And if the afterlife thought that there was something good for you here, who are we to judge?” 

“Yeah,” Taehyung agreed. “Now, can you  please forget about all those past people and just focus on her? Maybe shut the fuck up while you do that? I get that you wanted to get your dick wet, but there’s a time and a place for that.” 

The boy sighed, and leaned against the red handrails. It took Jungkook a few seconds to speak out. “I feel like I’ve just been lectured by my parents,” he admitted. 

Taehyung relaxed his shoulders. “Good,” he said. “I’ve been meaning to slap some sense into you for months now, but I didn’t really have the permission.” 

“Feel better?” Jungkook asked.

He nodded. “Much better.”

“I’m happy for you,” he said. Jungkook ran one hand through his dark hair, pushing back the strands that had fallen over his eyes. “And about Y/N… There’s no way she’ll ever talk to me after this mess. I ruined everything.”

Taehyung nodded. “You pretty much did, yeah.” 

“You took the worst case scenario and managed to make it even more horrible,” Yoongi said. “It’s pretty impressive, actually.” 

“Thanks, that’s great.” Jungkook chuckled, humorless. He could always count on them for emotional support. “But, I mean… What do I do now? I mean, is there anything that we could do to save this?” 

“Worry not, my child,” Yoongi smirked, crossing his arms. “Taehyung and I are masters of seduction, and we’re here to help you. Just trust us.” 

“And before you say something,” Taehyung interrupted, raising one finger. “You never had the right girl before, so we weren’t really trying. I think we can find some real solid ground here.” 

Jungkook breathed out, and looked down at the grey stairs. Yeah, it’s not like he wasn’t at the bottom of the well already. “Fine. One last chance,” he agreed, looking back at the ghosts. “Just tell me what I have to do.”

______________

Much to Jungkook’s delight, he didn’t need to muster up the courage to talk to you, because you did that first. 

For the first time in their lives (and deaths), Yoongi and Taehyung actually did something right. Jungkook didn’t really know the details of their plan, all that he knew was that they would find a way to “make you see what you were missing” so that you would “come crawling back to him”. Which didn’t sound threatening at all.

 Countless possibilities crossed Jungkook’s head — horror movie hauntings, Taehyung invading your dreams with claws for fingers, Yoongi with a wet wig crawling out of your TV — but, in the end, no matter how much he insisted, the two of them just wouldn’t say a word. Apparently, there was a lot going on backstage that Jungkook had no idea about, so he should just “take it easy” and wait for the sequence of events to unravel. Amazing. Now he knew how the characters in Final Destination felt. 

“Just be patient, young one,” Taehyung had told him, thrown over his couch like a Victorian monarch. “All you need to know is that she will be back. Everything else it’s just… details.” 

And, two weeks after the dormitory incident, you did. 

There was a muffled thud as you placed your large books over the wooden table, and sat down across from him. The silence of the library didn’t allow for Jungkook to foresee your arrival, and to meet your gaze so suddenly was enough for his face to burn up in shame, his heart drumming against his ribcage. His sympathetic system really needed to quit with that bullshit before he collapsed. 

“Hey,” you mumbled, seeming just as uncomfortable as he was. “Can we talk? You know what about.”

The boy swallowed dry, and leaned a bit forward. “Y-Yeah, sure,” he whispered back. “I’m really sorry, Y/N, I don’t know why I thought—”

“For how long?” you sliced his sentence short, making his lips fall shut. 

Jungkook raised his eyebrows in surprise. “What?”

You cleared your throat, and shuffled on your seat. As much as the library was practically empty, neither of you felt courageous enough to use your usual voice tone — especially when dealing with that subject. “How long have you been able to, you know, see them?”

Jungkook took a second to respond, licking his dry lips and looking at the line of bookshelves as if seeking for the right thing to say. He felt awkward enough just interacting with someone from the opposite sex, but talking about the ghosts he saw? Hell, that bordered on a panic attack. Especially after the circus show that was that past study session. “Almost two years now, I think,” he finally answered. “But they told me they’ve been around for a bit longer. I just couldn’t see it.” 

You shook your head in concordance, even if the information was everything but easy to understand. “That’s crazy,” you spoke. “I don’t know how you deal with it.” 

Jungkook let out a dry chuckle. “Not very well, as you can probably tell.” 

 “I don’t think I can judge you. I didn’t precisely react well either.” You swallowed dry, wide eyes flickering on the world behind Jungkook. “Are we alone now?”

As much as he already knew the answer, he looked around just to check. “Surprisingly, yeah,” Jungkook responded, slightly suspicious. Yoongi and Taehyung were always looking over his shoulder and throwing him into messy situations, he couldn’t tell why they weren’t there when, quite frankly, it was their perfect shot at humiliation. Maybe they really were doing their jobs for once. “I don’t know why they’re not here. That’s weird.”

You shrugged as if to say that you wouldn’t know either. “What are their names again?”

“Yoongi and Taehyung,” he answered, then waited another second to see if he could feel their presence. Nothing again. That was really strange — they often responded upon being called. “Listen, Y/N, I hate what we went through. They had no right to say those things. I’m used to the privacy issues, since I have been with them for a while. But you aren’t, and I can only imagine how weird you felt hearing all that. I’m really, really sorry.”

You pressed your lips together which, Jungkook guessed, was a failed attempt to suppress the rubor that exploded across your cheeks. He couldn’t blame you, though, for there were limits that were crossed. “I’m over it if you are,” was what you forced yourself to say. 

“I am,” he lied. None of you were particularly good at not telling the truth, and that was pretty obvious. But ignoring it was a start. 

“Good, okay.” You cleared your throat, placing the palms of your hands against the pile of books. “Sorry for lying about needing help in physiology, and all that. I just needed an excuse to spend more time with you, as you know now. I guess it’s obvious that I kinda have a huge crush on you.”

“It’s fine.” Jungkook laughed, extremely relieved to notice that your last sentence was in present tense. “I kinda have a huge crush on you too.” 

Honestly, even if it wasn’t for life, he’d have to give you props for still liking a guy that had had a borderline psychotic breakdown in your apartment, talked about your pet tortoise, and your masturbation technique, and still had the nerve to expose you to the supernatural world. It was a lot. Good on you for taking it like a champ. 

“And,” he continued, “sorry for using my ghosts to expose your secrets. I just needed to find a way for you to believe me, and I had no idea about what they were going to say. I was pretty much in a frenzied state, I wasn’t thinking straight. It won’t happen again.” 

“Apologies accepted.” You smiled, relieved. You were really beautiful, Jungkook thought in a breathless instant. He could look at you all day. “You know, it’s going to take me some time to get used to all that. I mean, I’m still not a hundred percent sure I believe in everything, but, I… My lamp flew across the room, and you told me things that you simply couldn’t know about. So, if it’s a prank, it’s a really good one.”

“I know how it is.” He nodded in agreement. “It was really difficult for me at first, too. I understand if you’d rather just stay away from me from now on.” 

You sighed, looking down at your books —  the two mammoth-sized volumes of Harrison’s Internal Medicine staring at you in mockery. “Weird thing is: I don’t really want to.” You crossed your arms and leaned back against the chair. Was that the sound of angels singing? Jungkook couldn’t tell. “I’d love to spend more time with you. Alone, if possible. And that counts both planes of existence.” 

“Sounds fair, I’d love that.” Jungkook smiled. As he met your eyes, he was filled with a  warm, rose-colored courage that he had never felt before. “Actually, I was wondering if, you know… you wanna do something? With me? Alone, of course. No ghosts. One of these days, I don’t know. If you’re not busy—”

You raised your eyebrows, interested. “You’re asking me out?”

He sighed, shoulders falling in defeat. “Trying, yeah. You can see I’m not the best at that either.”

Your smile grew a little. “That’s a big yes.”

“Really?” Jungkook stared at you like a lost puppy, his mind going completely blank for a second or two. The hamster in his brain was now somersaulting through his body, landing on his stomach and hitting him with a wave of nausea. “Wow, thanks. I don’t really have an idea of what we could do, though. Didn’t think I’d get that far.”

There was an instant of quietude as you thought for a moment, the space between the two of you permeated by the vague sounds of pages turning. “Movies?” You asked. 

“Sounds great.” Jungkook smiled openly, his shoulders falling in alleviation. He didn’t know what Taehyung and Yoongi had done, but he was beyond thankful for it. Seemed like their sacrifices weren’t in vain, after all. “The film majors are doing this 2000’s marathon this week. I think this Saturday it’ll be either Mean Girls or 17 Again.”

“I’m in,” you spoke excitedly. “I’ll be there, just text me the details.”

Jungkook almost swallowed his own tongue as he watched you stand up, presenting him with a gorgeous view of thighs beneath the level of your skirt. “Great!” He exclaimed a bit too loud, his voice a bit too high-pitched, awakening his inner thirteen-year-old. He cleared his throat, lowering his voice another octave. “I mean, yeah, great. Thank you for… saying yes.”

“Thank you for asking.” You placed your hair behind your shoulder, and leaned in to pick up the heavy pile of books. All nine kilos of Internal Medicine. 

“See you there,” he said. 

You smiled. “See you, Kookie.” 

Jungkook watched you walk away as if he was floating in a fever dream, completely unable to believe what had just unfolded. Did he seriously manage to get a date with you? Of all people? He must’ve been hallucinating. Maybe he ended up falling down the stairwell and died, perhaps that was his heaven, and he would— 

Behind him, Taehyung sneered. “Kookie? You’re getting softer than your dick.” 

Jungkook turned around so brusquely that the chair tilted back and, if it wasn’t for him holding down to the corner of the table, he would’ve fallen to the ground. “You two were there all along?” He whispered-screamed. Before he could land a sermon on them, though, he met the devilish smirk that was plastered all over Yoongi’s features. Oh no. No. The movies. “No, Yoongi, I know what you’re thinki—”

“Get in, loser, we’re going to the movies.” 

_________________

Saturday rolled around and, with it, came your much anticipated movie date. Jungkook had spent the previous night tossing and turning on his bed, completely monopolized by anxiety, thinking about every possible apocalyptic scenario that could go down. What if he tried to take a slip of his drink, but ended up blinding himself with the straw? Maybe he would step on the wrong chord and set the entire college on fire. Or maybe he would trip, fall down on a poor girl, and kill her on the spot. That would be awful, you would never talk to him again after any of that — the imaginary disappointment in your face was like a punch in the gut. 

Was he being ridiculous? Obviously. Did that stop his pre-date panic? Obviously not. 

Still, with the might of a thousand warriors, Jungkook managed to drag himself to your date, his knees almost giving out beneath him when he saw you — he didn’t believe you would actually come, for some of him still thought it was all a sadistic heaven prank. Somehow, he blurted out a compliment about how good you looked while he was having a heart attack, and almost lost his consciousness when you smiled at him. 

Yep, it would be a difficult night. 

The movie marathon consisted of three 2000’s movies, and the two of you managed to arrive right before Mean Girls started, fumbling on your seats as the rest of the room grew quiet. The makeshift classroom didn’t look like a movie theater in the slightest, but it wasn’t as if you were expecting that in the first place — it was nothing more than an agglomeration of chairs and desks, combined with a few puff chairs and old couches scattered around. Much to your delight, you and Jungkook managed to grab one of those couches before another couple returned to their seats, and he could see that his ghost buddies had already found their own place on the empty chairs behind the two of you. 

Surprise! None of the catastrophic scenarios in his mind actually came true. In fact, he had a great time with you, laughing at your jokes and sometimes flat-out stealing Yoongi’s commentary just to make you chuckle, which granted him a few mumbled complaints coming from the back row. 

“Jungkook is so superior, don’t you think, Taehyung?” Yoongi mocked, and Jungkook was sure that he would be kicking his seat if he could. “So smart. So great. But can’t even figure out his own jokes. Has to steal them from a poor dead man. You’re a grave robber.” 

Taehyung chuckled. “Hey, you’re helping him, at least. That’s our whole point here.”

“Grave robber!” he repeated, more aggressively this time. “I can’t believe you’d ruin Mean Girls for me like this. Not even hell would be so cruel.” 

“How dare you say that about hell? If I get in trouble because you can’t keep your mouth shut, Yoongi, I swear to God—”

“Now you’re saying God’s name in vain, you heretic! That’s so much worse!” 

Jungkook had to bite back a laugh as the two continued bickering behind him, only half aware of the scene in which Regina George glued her own picture on the burn book. He didn’t know when exactly he had done it — he had been so on edge the entire night that it was almost as if his own brain was instantly deleting his memories, but he had managed to curl one arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. He was sure that you could hear the frantic heartbeat of his heart against his chest, but he didn’t mind. He didn’t think he could even get that far. 

But he did, and even reached beyond that. 

Once the screen faded to black and the credits started appearing, there was a resounding wave of claps in the room, cheering for the absolute cultural reset that was that movie. One of the students moved to the front of the room, explaining that they would take a ten minutes break, then would return with She’s All That. Apparently, 1999 was close enough to the 2000’s for it to be picked as well. 

“Do you wanna stay and watch it?” He asked, fighting every muscle in his body not to smell your hair. He knew that it would be super creepy, yeah, but your head was right there and it smelled so good. 

You removed your body from his chest, looking up at him. “I would love to, but I have to wake up early tomorrow to study,” you said. “Big test on Monday.” 

“Sure, yeah.” Jungkook nodded, slightly let down. To be honest, he had completely forgotten that information until that point. Seems like he would have a lot to catch up on during the next day. “I’ll walk you to your dorm.” 

You thanked him with a smile, and you two got moving. 

The walk back to your place wasn’t exactly awkward, but it could have also been a lot better. The two of you talked about the movie animatedly, the subject that you had to study — an awful amount of gastric pathology to memorize — and, eventually, landed on your weirdest experiences during hospital rounds. You were in the middle of telling him how two toddlers (twins) managed to puke on you at the same time, and how you thought that was a sign of a telepathic connection between the two, when he felt the back of his hand brush against yours, and everything around him turned into static. Suddenly, it was all that he could think about. 

Jungkook had already spent the entire date with questions flying around his head. When was the right time to pull you close? Could he hold your hand, or would that be too bold? Could you smell how sweaty he was? Or maybe his deodorant was too strong? If he ran away, trained to be an astronaut, and joined the Mars colonization mission, would he be able to avoid embarrassing himself again? 

And, more importantly: would it be weird to kiss you goodnight? 

Considering the fact that he had no clue how to read your body language, and that almost all of his romantic experience came from bad sitcoms and Twilight marathons with Yoongi, Jungkook didn’t judge himself suited to answer that last question. He didn’t know if he should hold your hand, he didn’t know if you were just being polite or if you actually had a good time. Again and again, his anxiety got the best of him. He should really get back to seeing his campus counselor. 

“So… we’re here,” you said, holding your hands in front of your body. You had stopped at the entrance of your block, and Jungkook took that as a sign that you didn’t want him to go all the way back to your apartment. Fair enough. “Thank you for tonight, I had a lot of fun. We should do this again sometimes.” 

“For sure, yeah.” Jungkook nodded, somewhat relieved that you asked for that. At least that was a clear sign that you didn’t completely hate him. “That would be great.” 

You agreed and looked down at your shoes. The darkness of the night enveloped the two of you, only half of your features illuminated by the dim yellow shine of the nearest light post. Jungkook almost fainted when you stared into his eyes, with a faint blush painting your cheeks, and questioned, “So, you’re not gonna kiss me?” 

Windows’ blue screen. Please, hold.

 “I… I, uh—” Jungkook’s mouth felt as if he had just swallowed an entire desert, his brain fighting to keep his voice steady. Your eyes, so focused and expectant, felt like daggers against his chest. “I didn’t know if you wanted to,” he finally admitted. 

Your shoulders fell as a tender smile curled up on your roseate lips. Jungkook thought you were the most beautiful thing he had ever had the pleasure of seeing. “I do,” you told him gently. His heart almost leaped out of his throat. “Do you want to?” 

And that was the easiest question that he would ever answer. “Yeah,” Jungkook said. 

You smiled. “Perfect.” 

The boy barely had time to react before your hand was curling around the fabric of his shirt, and you pulled him towards you in a playful tug. Jungkook’s eyes stayed comically widened for a second after your lips met, but, soon enough, he allowed himself to melt into your embrace, his nervous hands landing on your waist, and his mind instantly calming down. 

He kissed you slowly, carefully, almost afraid that, at the faintest of movements, reality would shatter and he would lose that moment forever. Of course, it didn’t, and he stayed on that instant a bit longer before, at last, he pulled away, slightly breathless. 

“I should’ve done that sooner,” he confessed. 

You tilted your head at him, fingers playing with his hair. “It happened at the right time,” you said. “Some things can’t be rushed. Especially the good ones.” 

Just like that, he understood what Taehyung and Yoongi had been saying all those years. No matter how cliche it was, there was some truth to the saying that ‘what is supposed to happen, will’. And, the better that something is, the more work it will require. 

But, as he kissed you again, Jungkook realized that it was all worth it in the end.

____________

The following months by your side were so amazing that Jungkook constantly brought back his theory that “maybe he was actually dead, and that was heaven.” And, if it was, he would make sure to shake God’s hand himself because, holy fuck, was he one lucky man. 

Okay, maybe the first few weeks together were a bit painfully cringe-worthy, but he was really trying to pretend as if they didn’t happen. Jungkook didn’t really get the memo, and he had to slowly figure out how to behave romantically with you. He got it wrong the first few times — kissing you at the worst possible moment, or sending you a huge bouquet of roses during your microbiology exam — but, eventually, you guided him towards more neutral grounds. Then everything went smoothly. 

Surprisingly, even the undead duo calmed down for a while. Yoongi and Taehyung were still around, since they had no other option, but were much quieter now, only making punctual remarks when Jungkook made a fool out of himself. Hell, they even left the room when things started getting more serious between the two of you, instead of giving Cosmopolitan-worthy advice, and that was a huge improvement. 

But, of course, it wouldn’t be Jungkook’s life if there wasn’t a huge joke waiting just around the corner. Soon enough, another issue would present itself. 

It came in the form of a warm mumble against his lips, and the vague — yet deliciously noticeable — rolling of your hips against his own. “Jungkook,” you called, breathless after a long make-out session. The two of you were on his couch, with you sitting on his lap, straddling him. “I want you.” 

He froze. What else would he do? Jungkook was a panicked virgin. He knew that your intimate times would happen eventually — and he really wanted them to — but he didn’t expect that his mind would completely malfunction once he got so close, with his erection growing inside his pants and the softness of your breasts pressing against his torso. It was just a lot, alright? 

And, lost amidst the tempestuous sea of his sudden despair, all that he could utter back was, “Are… Are you sure you want to do this right now?” 

“Yeah.” You placed a strand of hair behind your ear. Jungkook thought that he could faint on the spot. It was actually a pretty common sensation with him. “You don’t want it?”

“No — I mean yeah! Yeah, I want it.” He choked on his words, looking down in embarrassment, only to meet the contour of your thighs. His youth leader had been right all along: temptation was everywhere. “I’m just… I’ve never done anything before.” 

“Hey, it’s okay,” you tried to calm him down, placing your hands on his shoulders. The heat of your palms seemed to have some effect on the chaotic emotions that boiled inside him, for his muscles relaxed considerably under your touch. “I won’t pressure you, okay? If you want to take more time, it’s completely fine.” 

“No, it’s not like that. I don’t feel pressured.” He shook his head, then looked up at you. You could almost feel the conflict inside his gaze, the mixture of anticipation and fear that you knew all too well. “I want you, Y/N, I really do. I’m just nervous.”

“It’s fine,” you repeated. “We don’t have to do anything now, and we can start slo—”

But he couldn’t listen to the end of your phrase, because a familiar voice damn near hollered from the other side of the room. “Taehyung, come in here! Quick!” Yoongi yelled, signaling through the door like he was controlling the air traffic. “He’s getting some! Jungkook’s about to get his cherry popped the fuck off!” 

You tilted your head to the side, staring him down with preoccupation. “Jungkook? Are you okay?”

“The fuck! There is no fucking way!” Taehyung’s voice got louder as he yelled, signaling his growing proximity. “Call NASA right now!”

Jungkook sighed, throwing his head against the couch. Goodbye erection, and goodbye any chance of having sex that day. “Yoongi and Taehyung just showed up,” he mumbled bitterly. 

You lowered your gaze and took a deep breath, then removed yourself from his lap. Jungkook hated the lack of heat, and he swore he would have drop-kicked the two if they weren’t in a different dimension. The certainty of death was all that he needed to know that he would get his revenge some day. “Of course they did,” you complained, fixing your clothes. “I love being cockblocked by cockless ghosts. Again.”

“Hey!” Taehyung sounded actually offended. 

Jungkook turned around harshly, his voice bitter. “Can the two of you just fuck off? This is not the time.” 

“So you two can fuck?” Yoongi grinned, then looked at Taehyung. “We should, actually.”

“Jungkook… this is too weird now.” You raised your hands in a silent bargain for it all to stop. You could deal with a few psychic sessions every once in a while, but being a voyeurism victim for ghosts wouldn’t be the way you wanted to spend your afternoon. “Let’s do this another time, okay? I should get going anyways. Big day at the hospital tomorrow.” 

He took one of his hands to his face, massaging his temple. You got up from the couch, reaching for your backpack. “Yeah, okay.” The boy pouted, and you leaned in to give him a quick peck on the lips. Disappointing end for a night, to say the least. “Good luck tomorrow. Text me if you get an interesting case!”  

“Thanks! I will.” You threw your backpack strap over your shoulder and started walking towards the exit. Jungkook couldn’t blame you for just wanting to leave that place as soon as possible, he was sure that the discomfort was much worse for you. “Bye, Jungkook! I’ll let you know when I get to my place.”

He opened his mouth to thank you, but you were already out the door. The lock clicked shut, and the silence became thick, mocking him. Even if he already had an actual girlfriend, Jungkook still found himself being left behind by someone that would never want to see him again — dick semi-hard and morale shattered on the ground. Seems like he always found himself back in that position. 

Taehyung materialized on the couch next to him, hugging his knees. He was staring at the closed door, somewhat expecting that you would come back, but knowing very well that you wouldn’t do so. “Okay, I accept that it was our fault,” he said, oscillating his gaze towards Jungkook. “Sorry, man. We are like, super invested in this. There’s almost nothing interesting going on in the afterlife and this is, like, better than any TV show airing right now.” 

Jungkook rolled his eyes, utterly exhausted at the mess that had become his life. He was done giving them sermons: it had basically turned into the world’s worst pastime and gave little to no results. “You know what? Just promise me you’re not going to show up next time.” He stared both of them down. “I don’t wanna be watched, that’s just weird. And I know that Y/N isn’t happy about that either.” 

Yoongi shrugged. “Some people like it.” 

“Yeah, I’m not one of those people,” he told him. “Guys, please. I know you two are as excited as I am about this, and I appreciate your... support, but I think this is something I need to do alone. In peace. Not being watched by spirits. That’s isn’t too much to ask.”  

“He’s right, you know?” Taehyung said, looking back at Yoongi. “We should stay in our lane for now.” 

The other ghost looked down at his feet, which basically morphed into the carpet beneath them. For the first time in two long years, he actually seemed like he was rethinking his actions. “Yeah, sorry,” Yoongi responded. “We got carried away. We’ll leave next time. Maybe try something when your neighbors are having a movie night.” 

Jungkook’s shoulders fell in alleviation.  Maybe not everything was doomed. “Thank you,” he spoke, then nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I’ll probably do that. When is the next one?” 

Taehyung looked at Yoongi, then back at him. “What are the chances that you’re gonna get your virgin shit together by tomorrow night?”  

___________

Slim to none, actually, but he had managed to (kind of) do it. Focus on the “kind of.”

Jungkook had spent the previous night doing in-depth research about sexual intercourse,  and basing his actions in real-life situations. That meant that he stayed up until four in the morning watching porn. Not masturbating. Just watching it very closely and trying to learn what to do — like an actual serial killer. 

“Do you think that this is… a good idea?” Taehyung spoke from the other side of his room, preoccupation plastered all over his face. The whole porn-science was funny for the first twenty minutes, and then it just ended up being terrifying. “You know that people don’t actually have sex like that, right? It’s all exaggerated.” 

“Quiet!” Jungkook raised his finger after a particularly loud moan echoed, his eyes red and glued to the computer screen. The white light from his device was awfully sharp, bathing his figure and making his image border on demonic. It really wasn’t a good look. “I’m researching. I need to know what to do.” 

“You look and sound like a maniac.” Taehyung walked closer to the bed, measuring his movements. After he died, he thought that he would never be afraid of any other living thing — but Jungkook had just proved him wrong. Against his best judgement, he took a peek at the screen. “No! Oh my— That’s not natural. That’s so wrong. You should know, you studied anatomy.” 

“I’m not gonna do this tomorrow,” Jungkook mumbled, closing the video. Taehyung recoiled back to the darkness of the room like a vampire that had just been touched by the sun. “The plot was interesting.” 

“You’re not even hard, man,” he said, pointing at Jungkook’s trousers. “This is like, really weird. You should stop before you have some problem getting it up tomorrow.” 

“What are you trying to say?” He narrowed his eyes, paranoid. “That wouldn’t happen. I know what I can do.”  

“You’re the medical student, take a look,” Taehyung insisted. “There’s research about that, pornography affects young men and women a lot and— Actually, what the fuck am I talking about? This is crazy. I should’ve left with Yoongi.” 

“Wait, I just—” Jungkook closed his computer with a sigh. His hair was disheveled and his gaze was unfocused. It really was the oddest night in Taehyung’s life/death. “I just don’t know what to do tomorrow. I’m about to have an anxiety attack. It’s like the third one tonight.” 

Taehyung pressed his lips together, the discomfort inside him being replaced by a warm sense of understanding. “Man, she knows you don’t have experience. She isn’t expecting a porn star performance, or whatever the fuck you were just watching.” He pointed to the computer, which was now neglected amongst the sea of blankets. “By the way, I’m a changed spirit. I hate you for making me see that.” 

Jungkook would have laughed at his distress if he wasn’t too tired to do that. “Technically, you decided to look at it yourself,” he corrected. “But, yeah, I know she’s not expecting anything great. But I don’t wanna make a fool out of myself, you know? Not like it’s a rare occasion or anything.” 

Taehyung shrugged. Being alive made everything seem so much more important than it actually was, he thought. “Lay back and let her take the lead, then.” 

Jungkook furrowed his brow, his eyes widening at the idea. Of course! That was the big  galaxy brain moment he needed all along. “Are you serious? It’s that simple?” He asked, hopeful. 

Taehyung chuckled. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see.” 

Yeah. It was that simple. Who would’ve thought that those see-through idiots actually would have something intelligent to say? 

Really, it was a time of miracles in Jungkook’s life. The following day, the planets aligned and, for the first time ever since puberty, everything went right for him: the class ended a bit early, his neighbors decided to watch two movies instead of one, and his place was perfectly devoid of any paranormal activity by the time you wandered into it. 

He didn’t tell you that he had planned that entire thing before it happened — he thought it would be super strange to schedule his virginity loss out loud — and he was glad to see that everything evolved naturally. One hour and forty minutes after you arrived, you two were already at the same point that you had left the day before — only, this time, you two actually managed to get to his bed.

“They’re not here, are they? You’re sure?” You asked in between kisses for what should’ve been the fifth time. 

“No, I asked them to leave earlier.” Jungkook’s hands pressed down on your hips, the sensation of your center rolling against his erection eliciting a sigh from him. Ha! Fuck Taehyung and his soft dick curse. “I actually… Before we do anything, I actually wanted to know if you could, you know, help me a little.” 

You hummed, taking your face away from his. Jungkook watched as you licked your lips, your eyes dazed, and leaned in to place another kiss against his mouth. “In what way?” You asked. 

“Just... show me what to do,” he said. “What you like, if I’m doing something wrong… everything.” 

With a soft smile, you agreed, arms curling around his shoulders. “Of course,” you told him. “It’ll be my pleasure.” 

That being said, you dove back to his lips, feeling as he both simultaneously relaxed and tensed up under your touches. Jungkook had evolved a lot in those past few months, you realized, since the early-dating version of him wouldn’t find himself in that position without turning into a stuttering, blushing mess beneath you. It was kind of cute, but you’d never say that out loud. 

You felt his hands trailing up your back, underneath your clothes, his palms dwelling in the softness of your skin for a moment before, in a courageous movement, he decided to pull your shirt up. There was a short separation of your mouths as the piece of clothing slid up your arms, and collapsed against the floor in a puddle of cotton. 

Jungkook sighed once he felt the lace of your bra against his hands; the softness of your breasts was something that he continuously daydreamed about. Now, without the barrier of your clothes, all that he needed was to remove that last constriction and he would be— 

“Oh well…” He chuckled nervously, fumbling with your bra. “Sorry, I don’t know how to open this.”

You smiled at the embarrassment that danced around his features. “Relax, okay?” You said, moving your hands to your back and taking care of that problem yourself. You’d teach him about the magic of unclasping bras another time. “It’s fine.”

But Jungkook didn’t have time to think about an answer, for soon your bra was meeting your shirt on the floor. His reaction would’ve been the same if you just moved over and came back with a baby dinosaur in your hands — his eyes widening in amazement as he took in the image of your nude breasts, a small whimper perishing in his throat as he slithered his hands upward, cupping them. 

Your breath stopped for a moment when he leaned in, reluctant, and enveloped one of your nipples with his warm mouth, his tongue delicately coming out to trace circles on your sensitive flesh. Jungkook groaned at the sensation, his cock becoming unbearably hard against his pants, and tilted your body over so he could be on top of you. 

You curled up against the sheets, sighing in delight as the boy continued to work on your breasts, kissing and sucking lightly, taking his time. Every time you looked down, you could see that Jungkook was having almost as much fun as you, the small moans that dripped from his tongue vibrating inside your chest. 

“Does it feel good?” He raised his gaze towards you, expectant. “Am I doing a good job?” 

“Yes, very good.” Your hands curled around the roots of his hair. The action was gentle, but Jungkook shuddered under the sensation — every small movement proved itself to be a lot for him to handle. “You’re doing amazing. Is there something that you want to do, Kookie?” 

The boy licked his lips, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed hard. Part of him (probably the sleep deprived one) still didn’t believe that you two were actually doing that — that it wasn’t just a figment of his horny imagination. No, it was real. You were right there in front of him, beautiful and devastating, caressing his hair as you waited for an answer. 

“I… I want to make you feel good,” he said, wide-eyed and hesitant. His dick felt painfully hard being so constructed by his pants and, suddenly, he became aware of how clothed he still was. No wonder it was so hot. “Just tell me what you want me to do.” 

Your lips curled up at his adorableness, one of your hands meeting his wrist. Patiently, you guided it down, and placed it on the hem of your pants. “Can you touch me?” You questioned. “I can tell you what I like.” 

“Oh, please,” he almost pleaded, his hand already fumbling to open your pants. Much to his delight, those were a lot easier than your bra, and they were soon sliding down your legs with ease. 

He took a moment to take in your form, eyes traveling up from your legs, to your hips, then all the way back to your breasts. As Jungkook met your gaze, he allowed for a suspire of relief to depart from his mouth, shoulders relaxing. “I’m so lucky,” he spoke, “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

The smile that you presented him looked brighter than all of the stars above. “Come here,” you called, leaning against your elbows. “Give me a kiss.” 

Obedient, Jungkook did as you requested, a grunt escaping his chest once you pulled him into a sloppy kiss, nails brushing lightly against the skin of his neck. He had goosebumps at the sensation, his hand moving by its own will, navigating down your stomach and towards your heat. 

His fingers hovered, insecure, over the hem of your panties for a moment. Still, at the sound of his name being spoken against the kiss, he was overtaken by an ephemeral spark of courage. Soon, your panties were on the floor too. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Jungkook whined at the contact, his fingers dwelling just above your entrance. Inside his pants, his cock twitched at the sensation, his lower body already tingling with excitement. He didn’t know how he would manage not to cum in his pants, but he would have to find a way. “What do I do now?” 

“Now...” you said, leaning your head against the pillow. “Move up and find my clit. Make all those hours of anatomy worth it,” you joked. 

Jungkook nodded, but anatomy was much more difficult when he wasn’t actually looking at a certain part of the body — he was much more interested in watching your expression. Embarrassed, he did as you requested, trailing his wet fingers up until you told him to stop. “Right there,” you said, sighing once you felt his hand pressing down on it, starting to trace small circular patterns. “That’s it, baby, great job.” 

His heart leaped at the compliment, and his actions became firmer. Jungkook thought he would go insane when he heard you whimper and cry out at the sensation, your hips bucking up against his hand ever so slightly. “You’re so hot,” he breathlessly confessed, his words coming in a hot puff of air against your neck. His digits slowly trailed down, towards your entrance, and he paused. “Can I?” 

“Yeah,” you agreed. 

Jungkook swallowed hard, adventuring one finger inside you. At the sensation of your walls clenching around him, he moaned, biting his lip. “God, you’re so tight,” he told you, adding a second finger. You raised your hips at the contact, hands curling on his hair. “I can’t wait to feel you around my cock.” 

His mouth came back to your breasts, sucking and licking your flesh. Jungkook was a mess, you realized — pressing down his hard member against your thigh, whining against your skin as his fingers curled inside you, sinking into your wetness. God, you weren’t made of steel. “I want it,” you told him, and he didn’t understand your words for a moment. “I want to feel you, Jungkook.” 

And he didn’t need anything else. The boy moved away from your body and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it on the floor alongside the rest of your clothes. It was no time for hesitation— he didn’t know how much of his precious alone time he had left. “Condoms.” He pointed at his nightstand. “Top drawer.” 

You turned around on the bed, reaching for the furniture as the boy unbuckled his belt and clumsily removed his pants. The mattress bounced beneath you as Jungkook tossed himself around, finding a way to lose his balance as he threw his pants on the ground. Much to his relief, you weren’t paying much attention to it. 

He was already panting — in a mixture of excitement and his pathetic effort to remove his pants — by the time that you gave him the condom. “Do you put it on, or do you want me to?” You asked. 

Jungkook had trained on enough bananas to know that he could do it, but he wasn’t gonna let the chance to have you touching him down there pass. “You do it, please.” 

You nodded, sitting next to his expectant figure. Jungkook’s chest rose and fell in anticipation, his muscles glistening with the small droplets of sweat that decorated his caramel skin.  His cock was hard and heavy against the fabric of his grey underwear, practically calling for your care. 

Attentively, you watched as his abdomen tensed up at the feeling of one of your hands pressing down against his clothed erection, delicately moving towards his crown. A gasp tumbled from his lips as you rolled your thumb against it, noticing the wetness that had already accumulated beneath your hand, and he rolled his hips against the pressure. Really, Jungkook was too precious. 

“Please, don’t tease,” he begged, eyes following your every move. His cock throbbed in your hands, needy. “I don’t think I can hold it much longer.” 

With a hum of agreement, you moved your hand away from his erection, and pulled his underwear down gently. Jungkook whimpered at the fiction, and the way his cock was freed from its constraints, bouncing back against his abdomen. The smallest of touches was more than enough for him to lose himself. 

“Shhh, it’s fine,” you calmed him down, slowly (too slowly) rolling the condom on him. His hands clenched into fists next to him, grabbing handfuls of the white sheets. Okay, maybe you were being a bit mean. “Just tell me what you want.” 

Jungkook closed his eyes for a moment, holding back a cry of frustration. “Ride me, please,” his words came out in a plea, his expression so permeated by need that you thought that he could cry if you teased him any further. God, everything was so perfect about him — the glistening in his onyx irises, the reddening of his lips as he bit down on them, trying to fight back a whimper as you placed yourself over him. “I— I need to feel you. I’m going crazy.” 

There was no need for more convincing — again, you weren’t made of steel. 

You sighed as you sank down on his member, one of your hands finding support against his pecs, as the other curled around his cock, guiding him inside you. Jungkook closed his eyes and threw his head against the alabaster pillow, his flower-like lips opening to cry out at the sensation. “Oh fuck,” he cursed. “Oh, baby, that’s so good.” 

Seeing him like that, so submissive, so deliciously responsive to your faintest of touches, was, at the very least, extremely erotic. You loved to see the way he flinched and whined at the sensation of your walls clenching around him, his hands unsure of where they should be on your body. Awfully slow, you rose your hips from him, almost letting him slip out, before you shifted your weight back down, watching as Jungkook moaned out your name. 

God, he was really about to fall apart. 

Slowly, you began setting a pace, moving up and down on his cock. It was a lot slower than Jungkook expected, but it was just the right speed to make him appreciate every sensation of your body wrapping his own. 

“Feels good?” you asked, a bit breathless. The sensation of him filling you up was even better than you had anticipated, and, combined with his shameless exclamations of pleasure, you didn’t think that you’d last much longer either. 

Before he could answer, a tremulous sigh ruptured upon his mouth, reverberating just behind his teeth. Jungkook took another second to find his words, inhaling sharply. “So good,” he spoke, and you almost whined out at the lust that ornamented his voice. “Can you move faster? Please?” 

Maybe in different times, you’d take your time to provoke him a bit more. At that point, though, you’d do anything he wanted you to. “Yeah,” you agreed, doing as requested. The sound of your wetness and the slapping of skin against skin was lewd, filling the room alongside Jungkook’s voice. “Like this?”  

“Fuck, yeah, like this,” he cried out, closing his eyes in absolute euphoria. He could feel the movement of your asscheeks against his palms, the sensation enough to drive him insane. Jungkook was already amazed at the fact that he didn’t embarrass himself with premature ejaculation the second that you removed his underwear — but it didn’t mean that he didn’t get close to it. The second his hands squeezed your ass, he was positive he would end the game a bit earlier than the two of you would like. “It— it feels so good. Please, don’t stop.” 

With a moan, you threw your body forward, placing kisses on the curvature of his neck, a sensation that quickly sent shivers down his skin. The new angle made his cock hit even deeper inside you, causing for you both to melt in pleasure. “You feel so good,” you told him, nails digging against his flesh. The knot in your stomach was all too familiar, and you knew that you wouldn’t take much longer. “I love having you inside me.” 

“Oh, yeah, that’s good.” He mumbled, only half aware of the words leaving his lips. Jungkook’s eyes were dazed and unfocused, looking at nowhere in particular, his fingertips digging in your flesh. “You’re… you’re getting tighter.” 

“Y-Yeah,” you agreed, voice coming out in a moan. “I’m close.” 

He swallowed hard. “I can help,” he said. 

Before you could ask what he was trying to do, Jungkook moved his hand back to your center, two of his fingers playing with your clit. You gasped at the sensation, eyes closing as you kept riding him, rolling your hips, feeling as he reached for every part of you. It was all becoming too much, the pleasure that decorated his features, the  delicious friction of his body against yours, the frail moans that dropped from his tongue like honey. He was just too much. 

With a faint call of his name — a melody that would be stuck in his head forever —, you finally crossed the threshold of your orgasm, and came around him; morphing into a trembling and moaning mess. Jungkook watched, in absolute awe, as your face was monopolized by bliss, your teeth sinking down on your bottom lip and your eyes rolling back. 

He removed his hand from your heat, placing it on your waist. Using every final ounce of energy in your body, you continued riding him. Through parted lids, you noticed that his thighs were starting to shake, signaling that he, too, was close. “Baby,” the boy called out, his fingers digging to the sides of your hips. Jungkook was both trying to guide your movements, and hold himself back to reality. It was a beautiful view — the way his expression lingered somewhere between delight and distress; his hips mindlessly trusting up against yours. “I think I’m gonna cum.” 

You breathed out through your nose, trying to ignore the pleasure that, now, was turning into sensitivity. It felt good, in a way, but you were more focused on his relief at that point. “It’s okay, Kookie,” you told him, “you can let go.”

He had been so polite the entire time, with his “please” and “thank you’s. So, of course, when you told him that it was okay for him to cum, he did just as you requested. 

Jungkook came with gasping breaths and a trembling, high-pitched moan, holding on to you as he thrusted his last sloppy advances towards your core. His hands, weak, fell on the bed besides him, clenching the sheets; eyelashes fluttering down as he dwelled on the afterglow of his pleasure. You could stay there forever, looking at the pink shade that colored his cheeks; the beautiful mess that his black hair had turned into; or the tears of relief that accumulated at the corner of his eyes. 

But everything has to end, even the most beautiful ones. 

His tongue came out to wet his lips, and his eyes, still hooded, met yours. Not even the biggest minds in the renaissance could’ve thought of an image so perfect, so ethereal. “You’re so amazing,” he praised. “That was… amazing.” 

You smiled and leaned in to place a soft kiss against his lips. His member slipped out of you at the action, and his arms curled around your waist, keeping you in place. “You did pretty well,” you mumbled as you lazily curled up against his chest. Jungkook’s body was a delicious source of heat, and you could really get used to that. “I see a bright future ahead of you.”

He hummed, caressing your hair. Jungkook could finally smell it without being creepy, so that was a big victory for him. “You did most of the work,” he said. 

“That’s not an issue.” You nuzzled his neck, pleasantly feeling as goosebumps spread throughout his body. Always so responsive. “I’ll let you take the lead next time, if that sounds good to you.”

Jungkook chuckled. “That’d be great, yeah,” he agreed. Part of him thought about using a few tricks he learned during his late-night research, but he wasn’t super sure that it would be a good idea. Maybe he should keep that card up his sleeve for a bit longer in case he needed to surprise you later. “Do you want to spend the night? It’s kind of late to go back to your place now.”

The words fell from his tongue with ease, surprising the boy for an instant. He noticed that he was much more comfortable in your presence, like the pieces of the puzzle had finally fallen into place. Not because of the sex itself, he realized, but because of the vulnerability and intimacy that came with it. It happened just as it was supposed to. 

 “I’d love to.” You smiled, and placed a kiss against his neck. “But I’m going to kick you out if you start snoring.” 

“Out of my own place?” He asked. 

You sighed, voice filled by traces of your upcoming slumber. “Don’t you test me,” you spoke, wrapping your arms around him. “Medical school is killing me, I need some sleep. And I will get it no matter the price.” 

Jungkook laughed at your tired words, one of his hands caressing your head in infinite delicacy. As he held to your body, curling so perfectly against his own, he knew that everything would be okay. And maybe he needed a good night of sleep too. 

A few minutes later, as he started to feel the sensation of his consciousness slowly drifting away to the land of dreams, a bittersweet sentiment overtook his chest. There was an instant, even if ephemeral, in which Jungkook believed he would never see Yoongi and Taehyung again — after all, the two had already concluded their mission: Jungkook got the girl and there was nothing else left for them to do. In between two consecutive breaths, he felt both relief and solitude. Silence wasn’t as welcoming once he realized no voice could break it. 

Though, his melodramatic moment was short-lived. Behind him, a known timbre cheered for him:

“I’m so proud, I feel like a soccer mom.”

[nikkywrites]

WIP Title Tag

Rules: post the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have wips.

Oh boy.

Thanks for the tag @pluttskutt. I have way way way too many things. Most of these are just a few paragraphs/basically abandoned though. And have been accumulated over roughly 2-3 years. So it’s not as bad as it may look. But a good few of the google docs actually have multiple stories in it (like 3+ on at least 2).

People please actually stop by to ask about things. Ask about multiple things if you want. This took more effort and time than it should have.

GOOGLE DOCS:

Calypso ???

Calypso/Davy Jones Mess

Calypso/Davy Jones Redo

Calypso/Davy Jones Reverse POV

Forest Fantasy Prompt RD

CUT FOREST

Forest Fantasy Prompt RRD

Persephone Mess

Knighting Honor

Both for the night nehru

Betrayal Thingy

Spring and Winter and Love

Iris centric stories

Brother RD

Brother RD 2

Lost Gods

The Garden

Tavern’s Deal

Cemetery of Power || Caffeine Challenge 30

Garden of Souls RD

Fictober 2021

Emere Backstory (Note: title at top of the actual doc is “Tragic Hero Backstory Conception Agency || Temporary Title || Emere Backstory” I’ve just been too lazy to rename the actual doc lol)

Cinder Retelling Outline

NOTEPAD:

(laptop and phone. note that for phone notes (the later ones) a single dash is what’s in the second line as you can see both without opening the note and I refuse to start a story there. did omit a couple of those, though)

she’s dead

forest Fantasy Prompt Scene Outlines

forest Fantasy Prompt Scene Outline New

Demeter-Persephone-Hades idea outline

[redacted] (note: this one is a spoiler for TDWAD world, so.)

fuck. why am I doing this

Hades Persephone no D lipogram

Echo thingy idk

cliff or maw

broken hero, broken king, empty princess

broken hero take 2

broken hero take three

3 Prompts - The Lost One / Stay With Me / You Don’t Know Anything

TDWAD MAGIC WORLD BRAINSTORMING

Leucothea - Ino into Goddess

Cells - Seven Years

Ahhh - pain

Greek Myth - Prometheus POV [redacted] alive?

Greek World Ideas

More Greek Stuff: Cronus Edition - because yay

Jen - Note

Idea - Mayhaps

Bapapapapababa - Oh whoops

Random - idk

Hephaestus

TUMBLR DRAFTS:

(note: some of these are untitled so I put the first line/prompt instead also mostly from the old side blog drafts that I haven’t shifted elsewhere)

Dragon Rot

No one means to become a Necromancer

“What did I do to deserve this?”

Evil Under the Skin / So Much Love to Give / Brother vs Brother

Bambi Retelling

“I’ve seen a lot. I’ve done a lot too. I never thought I would end up here.”

Divine Water / The Last Heir / A Cursed Sword

Sleeping Beauty Retelling

[woods of doubt?]

To Bully A Curse

The Dark Majesty’s Nine Sons

Subjective Evil

the third part of Jo’s story

Jo 3/4?

“You poisoned me.”

“I thought you loved me.”

Thunderstruck

City of Creation (the beginning of one of her stories)

Salt of Consequence (how it all ended)

You won’t remember any of this when you’re older

“I don’t want to hear a word from you.”

Death’s Cloak

Super Rehabilitation & Therapy

The Superhero Next Door // Part Two

Jackson was burning.

“I’ll cut out your heart and eat it.”

——

It ends! This took too long.

Tagging (and you can feel to ignore if you’re anything like me, or you can only put the serious things instead of literally everything that’s more than two lines): @ashen-crest @ettawritesnstudies @drippingmoon @dragon-with-a-pen @pertinax--loculos @magic-is-something-we-create @notwritinganyflufftoday @blind-the-winds @vylequinne @vivian-is-writing @akindofmagictoo @sleepyowlwrites @dycefic @dontcrywrite @fayoftheforest @adventuresinanarchy @dismalzelenka @leafkisser @solarnexas @unlimited-poetential @actualanxiousswampwitch @mistosworld @ashadowfaerie @thunderstomm @prinzesswache @absolutely-feral-moth @sandalaris @darkmasterofcupcakes @mirakae @life-in-the-dreamhouse @obeekris @haha-they-wont-find-me-now @chiefest-and-greatest-calamity @neologyro @cherryonigiri @mirakeul @zoppzoop @dumboosaurus @humanitittysswaggiest @wolf-of-the-glade @forlornmelody @skiitter @sigh-the-kraken @toomanyassassins @meanderer125 @moonyjulian @darksidechick823 @natdrinkstea @bluestockingbaby

That’s only 50 people but that’s the max apparently so I’ll leave the other 25 or so spots as do it if you want! Say I tagged you!

[bringingglory]

@eerna oh my god acshdgagaahhdvsahsv I never expected you to see my post, so I won't lie, I feel like super embarrassed acsgsga

anyway! not gonna lie, this wip has been sitting in my drafts for months now because I wanted to see if I could plan stuff but then I got stuck because Details are hard to figure out BUT I did write out a few scenes, so I'll put them below the cut because they're kind of long. the first one is the "opening" of the fic and the second one is a sort of reimagining of the Silent Princess memory. i have a few other scenes sort of scribbled out, but these are the most "polished" of the stuff i've written alsdkfjasdfk

the opening lol

Link wakes to a faint buzzing in his ear that sends little darts of pain shooting through his skull. He waits for it to end, and when it doesn’t he groans and rolls over, smacking the space around him to find whatever was making that noise and make it shut up. He can’t fathom why his brain is rolling through his skull like that and why there’s an intense pressure behind his eyes, but when he rolls onto his side, he has to press a hand to his abdomen to settle whatever was sloshing around inside his stomach.

Ah. He’s hungover.

Link peels open his eyes and the light sends a fresh wave of pain ricocheting through his skull. He blinks once, twice, and then forces his eyes open to find a phone the size vibrating against the ground a few inches away from his hand.

Link groans and pushes himself up to a sitting position before grabbing the phone and dismissing the alarm. When the phone falls silent in his hands, he finally looks around and tries to assess the situation.

He’s sitting in a bathtub, the porcelain slightly damp from what he hopes is just water. His shirt smells vaguely of cheap vodka and he still can barely look at the sunlight streaming through the window without wincing.

A moment later, he realizes the phone in his hands isn’t his.

Link holds the phone up to his face and rubs the grogginess from his eyes. He swipes up on the screen, surprised that it isn’t protected by a password.

The phone is open on note in the notes app, and it reads:

link, if you’re reading this right now, im so sorry for leaving you in the tub like that!!! my dad’s supposed to come home from the office today and the document case i was telling you about is missing and he cant know i lost it. i know we just started getting along, and im so sorry to ask you this, but could you find the document case? impa’s in my contacts and she can help you. also you have permission to dig through my phone, just dont judge me if i have anything embarrassing on there. can you find the file by midnight? his flight leaves at 3 and i can stall him until then.

it’s 6:11 right now so i have to run before he gets back, but please hurry! i’ll be waiting for you

-zelda

Link blinks and turns the phone off.

Last night? What happened last night? Why can’t he remember anything?

Well, if his raging headache tells him anything, it’s that he had probably blacked out last night.

Link isn’t usually a drinker or a partier. He isn’t really one to go to big social events. So he’s really confused as to why he woke up passed out in a tub with zero memories.

And also, why Zelda left her phone with him.

a version of the Silent Princess memory but they're at a party and its modern

Zelda laughs. “I think I got a little too sober from the Yiga incident to enjoy the party now.”

Link isn’t sure if he’s supposed to laugh with her, but nods anyway. “Do you want to get some air?”

Zelda gives him an odd look, then sighs. “Yeah. Yes. That would be a good idea.”

Surprisingly, she grabs his forearm and leads him through all the bodies pressed against each other. He can feel the heat of her hand wrapping entirely around his arm like a hot glove, even above the heat of the late summer air and the heat from other people in close proximity.

Somehow, they make it to the other side of the house. Zelda pushes the back door open and pulls him past the other stragglers outside before they find a nice tree with a patch of grass that seems generally clear of alcohol and vomit.

Zelda releases his arm as soon as she finds the tree and she sits down, dropping her head against the trunk.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

Zelda waves her hand vaguely.

Link pauses. “Do you need water?”

“If you get me any more water, I’m probably gonna piss myself,” says Zelda. “Sit down.”

He sits down.

The crickets hum vaguely around them, mingling with the distant buzzing and thumping bass of the music from the party. But without people pressing in from all sides and an open field in front of them, it finally feels like he can take a full breath.

The silence settles over them like a blanket. It feels comfortable to him, but he isn’t sure if it’s supposed to be.

“Oh, Link, look.”

Link cranes his head to see Zelda twist around and point out a blue flower glowing vaguely in the dark. It was beautiful with blue petals so light they looked almost white, and a sky blue bleeding out from the center before fading out.

He wants to give her a questioning look, but she’s transfixed on the flower. He can see the smallest of smiles creeping up onto the corners of her mouth.

“It’s a Silent Princess,” she says. “It was my mom’s favorite flower.”

He can tell something important is happening, so he keeps his mouth shut.

“She said that we can’t grow them domestically yet, despite our best efforts.” Zelda breaks into a full smile and it’s radiant. “The Princess can only thrive out here. In the wild.”

They both turn to look back at the house as another loud WHOOP cuts through the air, followed by the sound of a can being crushed against a head.

“Nature is beautiful,” says Link.

Zelda swats him and he has to bite back a laugh.

She turns and runs a gentle finger along one of the petals before sighing and leaning back against the tree.

“Thank you,” she says suddenly. “For being there with the Yiga. And for being there the whole party.” He can hear her swallow. “I’m sorry for being a bitch.”

“You weren’t being a bitch,” says Link.

“I was, though.” Zelda inhales beside him. “I mean, just because I’m under a lot of stress from my dad doesn’t mean I’m allowed to take it out on other people. I was acting like a kid.”

“To be fair, your dad sounds like an asshole sometimes.”

Zelda snorts. “Yeah. He can be.” He turns his head to see her lean forward to fiddle with the grass. “But he’s got a lot on his plate. And it probably doesn’t help that his daughter doesn’t want anything to do with his ‘legacy.’”

“Just because your dad’s under a lot of pressure doesn’t mean he’s allowed to be an asshole,” Link points out.

Zelda finally looks up at him and offers him a small grin. “Fair enough.”

“And besides, you’re your own person. You don’t need to follow in his footsteps.”

“That’s what I said,” huffs Zelda. “But of course it’s, ‘blah blah you have a responsibility. I didn’t raise you like this so you could waste your time researching pointless things.’” She sighs. “It’s fine. It’s whatever. I came to this stupid party to blow off steam, I guess. But Goddess, I did not eat enough today to drink that many cans of shitty beer.”

Link sits upright, alert. “Do you need to get food or—”

“No, no, that’s fine.” And that smile returns and Link wonders what else he can say to make it stay. “You’re sweet. But I’ve probably gotten drunk enough tonight.” Her eyes slide up to him and the mischief in them stops his heart for a moment. “You still have to try the Hot Frog.”

Link blinked. “...what is that?”

--

the endings are abrupt on both of them just bc i wasn't entirely sure how to end them akldjfasd. also the "Hot Frog" is gonna be some kind of mixed drink that gets link really drunk -- me trying to allude more to the original memory from the game haha

anyway, thank you so much for the ask! and thank u for coming up with the shitpost because it made me laugh the first time i read it hasdklfj hopefully i'll continue this one day and do ur shitpost au justice!

[fanfoolishness]

Interview with a Fic Writer

Tagged by @novantinuum, thank you!

__

How many works do you have on AO3?

242 works. The actual fuck??? Wow, me. Of course, this does span about 9 years, so I guess that's not that insane?

What’s your total word count on AO3

549,737! But that averages out to only 2271 words per story, haha. You got me! I think I have less than 10 fics that have more than 1 chapter. I love one-shots, what can I say?

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Oh, you want to get into this? All right. We'll get into this:

The X-Files, proto-fandom, ur-fandom, first OTP ever... yeah, 15-year-old me went. WILD. Many horrible Mulder/Scully stories, and some Doggett/Scully and character study stories as well. Mostly not very good, but with occasional flashes of decent writing. Really had a difficult time writing romantic feelings between 30+ year-olds given a) I did not date in high school and b) was 17 and not an emotionally stunted FBI agent.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer - not a huge volume of stories, but definitely some very angsty Spuffy and Spike tales.

Harry Potter - just one published fic (Lupin grieving Sirius), and one with Snape and Harry having a heart to heart I could never quite get right.

Then came the dark times (vet school) where I was exhausted and hard at work for a few years and I thought, horribly, I might have outgrown fandom. Thank god for...

X-Men First Class and the undying love of Charles Xavier and Erik Lensherr! I'd never fallen for a slash ship before but my god I fell hard for this one and wrote my first fandom smut and my first real AU (mutants with zombies) that I never finished.

Then.... let's see...

Quantum Leap drabbles!

Two Avatar the Last Airbender fics!

Agents of SHIELD fics, mostly focused on Coulson and FitzSimmons, and super angsty.

Bioshock Infinite sads (god I love writing the sad bad dad)!

And then the juggernauts of Mass Effect (my longest fic to date with 30 chapters!) and Dragon Age, which were endlessly productive and are still productive given the variety of different protagonists you can create, different choices, and different relationships to canon characters. I'm still working on a Hawke/Varric fic in the back of my mind here.

There's one random Gravity Falls fic (wish I could have got a little more obsessed with it, or gotten into it while it aired) of Stan sads, and one tiny Avengers ficlet of a sad Tony and Peter.

There's one Wheel of Time fic! Dammit I wanted Rand and Tam to reunite so much sooner than they did.

40-odd Steven Universe fics! So many SU fics!

One random Schitt's Creek fic of David and Patrick!

And finally, The Mandalorian, with 47 fics. Phew!!!

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. The Invitation, The Mandalorian. Din Djarin finds himself in dreams that seem realer than real, reminding him of his loss, but he begins to find a sense of hope again. A promise is kept.

2. The Outstretched Hand, The Mandalorian. Din Djarin is a man of action, but sometimes, the quiet finds its way in. Din reckons with the aftermath of the events of Chapter 14, the Tragedy. (My very first Mando fic!)

3. Not the Sentimental Type, Steven Universe. Priyanka Maheswaran has long prided herself on keeping her emotions in check. But a mother's love can only grow, and sometimes it expands to people she never anticipated. Like the Universe boy.

4. Translation, The Mandalorian. Din Djarin was a man of few words, but many languages. Some might have thought the Child had no language at all. Din Djarin and the Child grow to understand each other.

5. Full Disclosure, Steven Universe. Just as the world begins to recover from Spinel's attack, Steven starts having nightmares. The more he ignores his fears, the worse they become, until he's left with no other choice but to ask for help. (My thoughts on what would drive Steven Universe Future, and I wasn't far off.)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I really try to! Even sometimes years later if I realize I've missed some. I appreciate each and every one, and have definitely made friendships through comments <3

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Oh, hell... I'm too lazy to link these but if anyone wants to read them let me know or find them on my AO3!

A Stopped Clock from Bioshock Infinite has Booker DeWitt ravaged by Korsakoff's amnesia from his long-standing alcoholism. Is Columbia real or imagined? Hard to say.

The Viscount's Way shows Varric Tethras having become his parent, and a cruel, hard viscount of Kirkwall.

Songs in the Key of Red shows how Cullen fared under the dark future in Redcliffe in DAI, and they write happy endings, don't they? shows what happened to Varric. Both horribly depressing in different ways!

Two by Two, Hands of Blue shows a not unexpected end to lyrium addiction :( Poor Cullen, he got a lot of angsty developments, didn't he?

Do you write crossovers? If so, what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever written?

Never really got into crossovers or AUs. Just... meh for me!

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No, I don't think so.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Charles/Erik, Shepard/Garrus, Shepard/Liara, Shepard/Tali, a mess of different f/f femShep drabbles, and most of my Dragon Age pairings have gotten sexytimes. On the other hand I helped start the NoRomo Mando tag for the Mandalorian to help find non-pairing Mandalorian content. Depends on the pairing and the fandom, for sure.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope, thank goodness!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I think so! There used to be a Spanish-language wiki linking to some of my old X-Files stories XD

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but friends and I definitely will beta each others' things to help with sticky points.

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

ALL-TIME? Just, why? So many ships I loved in years past turned out to have pretty damn problematic elements I didn't see at the time, so it's hard to say... Mulder/Scully actually has a ton of issues, Buffy/Spike obviously has issues... so maybe Hawke/Varric (except not canon!) or Garrus/Shepard or Brosca/Alistair.

What’s a WIP you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Still need to finish my Hawke/Varric fic for after Adamant! I have 3 chapters written that I haven't posted. Maybe posting them will help inspire me....

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue and POV writing from different characters; I feel fantastic writing Steven and Greg, though totally at sea trying to write from Connie's POV, randomly. But I think my dialogue and emotional beats are what people tend to tune in for. When I do write romance, it's usually very sweet and silly and pulled from life. I also love writing nature scenes and settings to help establish mood. Mood and emotion and catharsis are my bread and butter, and I like my poetic prose.

What are your writing weaknesses?

What the hell is a long, well-thought-out plot? Like what even is that???? My longest fic with 30 chapters is basically "Shepard has PTSD and hangs out with her crew. They have some funerals." THAT'S IT. How the heck people actually come up with plot that ties into the lore of a fandom I genuinely have no idea and it's the biggest thing that's held me back from finishing original work. I can come up with a setting and characters and then trying to make them do stuff that's more than just talking to other characters and deepening their relationships with them... how the fuck???

I also definitely have 10-20 words that I am in constant danger of reusing like every other paragraph, LOL!

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I don't speak any other languages so I always avoid it as much as possible. I've seen people describe sign differently in fics and picked one way to depict it that made sense to me for Grogu, but that's about it.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

The X-Files, of course!

What’s your favorite fic you’ve ever written?

Towards Another Day, the tale of how Cullen went from being a templar in Kirkwall to commander of the Inquisition, is definitely up there.

Reverberations is one of my rare multi-chaptered fics and one of my favorite for the catharsis at the end. It makes me tear up every time. 5 times Din and Grogu encounter the Dark Side, and one time they find the Light.

Either a world for the birds (Steven develops a closer relationship with his Uncle Andy, learning birdwatching along the way) or on the subject of rocks (Steven and Jasper finally reach a peace) might take the prize for favorite SU fic.

__

Tagging (if you’re super bored and would like a fun thing to do) fellow writers:

@lastwordbeforetheend, @runrundoyourstuff, @honestlyhufflepuff, @art3mys, and @fake-starwars-fan if you would like to play!

[undinoble]

Crazy long text ahead i warn you, just explaining some process I went through while drawing this Frank and Julie low light dying thingie, probably gonna drop some wips along the way, you may want to see… idk, dealer’s choice

!TRIGGER WARNING! Violence, death, suicide. Proceed with caution.

Well where do we begin? The inspiration maybe?

Exploring the magical world of Spotify when a band came in, one of the first songs (if not the first one) of theirs I heard was Partners in Crime by Set It Off, you know, love at first sight, love for their voices, their music style, aaand the lyrics, OH BOI the lyrics, check it out:

“You’ll never takes us alive We swore that death will do us part They’ll call our crimes a work of art You’ll never takes us alive We’ll live like spoiled royalty, lovers and partners”

Dunno, for two passionate juvenil delinquents that just wants trouble this line really fits to me, the dreamy couple feels invencible.

“Everybody freeze Nobody move Put the money in the bag Or we will shoot Empty out the vault And me and my doll will be on our way”

It’s actually interesting to think of the Legion robbing a bank, it’s not like troublesome teens didn’t do that in movies c’mon, it’s a small city, they wear masks, ez!

“Our paper faces flood the streets And if the heat comes close enough to burn Then we’ll play with fire ‘cause

You’ll never takes us alive”

THIS. This is so a Legion thing to say. Can you imagine their masks all around the streets as a warning like “HEY, WE ARE HERE, FEAR US” I love this

“Here we find our omnipotent outlaws Fall behind the grind tonight Left unaware that the lone store owner Won’t go down without a fight Where we gonna go He’s got us pinned Baby I’m a little scared Now, don’t you quit He’s sounded the alarm I hear the sirens closing in”

The second big moment, the adrenaline along with the instrumental is crazy for real

“The skies are black with lead-filled rain A morbid painting on display This is the night the young love died Buried at each others side”

THIS. (again) is the main theme of the drawing, it’s where the inspiration flood over me, the scene was clear in my mind, c’mon if you read till here there’s absolutely no reason not to listen to the song you won’t regret im not even getting payed to show it off

ACTUALLY FORGET IT- i just won a sub on Cody Carson’s stream WHAT IS LIFE??????? Thanks Max!!!

I totally didn’t draw this while listening to the music when i should be working what are you talking about??

Hold the sketch, focus on the gun. It’s dope aint it?

Anyways, here goes the lore, along with the music lyrics I filled up the gaps, well, Suz and Joey are not around, maybe doing school stuff Julie didn’t feel like doing so she decides to hang out with Frank in the meanwhile, they’re on the lodge, bored, upset about the world cause it’s what teens do in their free time, listening to one of their mixtapes, probably Frank’s, the more hardcore one when the idea hit: what if they try some good mischief? “There’s a small banks a mile from here, want some adrenaline babe?” And oh of course she does, grab your mask, here we go

Sorry, not a big legs-drawing fan…

They grab their knives, put on the masks, get ready, drive to the bank. I didnt really think this part through, the song says it all. Long story short - they rob the bank, the police arrives, the action begins.

They brought their knives, didn’t expect the cops to show up with guns, damn they didnt even know little Ormond cops had actual guns. After long minutes of hiding on the bank safe the couple decides to fight their way out, they would be more useful alive than dead so laws could apply, but that went out of question once Frank stabbed the first bank employee on his triumphal way out, the police don’t think twice before shooting to protect the citizens inside.

Frank and Julie have too little time to react, the stress and anxiety kicks in, they go feral, crazy cinematic bullet avoids, for a moment it’s possible to get away. It all happened too quick, but in Julie’s vision it went slow motion. She just saw a cop leaning behind a car, aiming directly at Frank, even her fastest reaction wasn’t fast enough to stop the trigger from popping. With tears in her eyes she watches as the bullet hits her boyfriend right in the chest. 

She snaps. One target in mind, she sprints to the cop and stabs him over and over until she’s sure he won’t see the sun set ever again. She takes his gun and rushes towards Frank who is kneeling against a taxi holding his torax, she screams that they must go to the hospital immediately but he refuses, hospital would be just a quick stop on his way to jail. No fucking way. 

He demands to go back to the lodge, the cops are too busy helping their wounded partner to look for them, they think Frank may be dropped dead somewhere on the street after multiple shots, the two of them must flee before the cops realize the mistake and go hunting for them. NOW.

Julie side-carries Frank back to their car, the lack of a license of her own won’t stop her from driving as fast as the car can. Breathing heavily while constantly telling Frank to hold on, they will find a way out, they must do. Oh what a fucking stupid idea holy SHIT. 

The travel takes half the time it usually does and still feels like hours. The car gets all red with Frank’s blood that keeps leaking. Once they arrive, Frank wants to go upstair, Julie shouts at him to keep next the central campfire once he should grab some heat (and for god’s sake why is he still carrying the money bag they stole????), anyway he gets the last word and they climb the stairs up and lay on the bed, Frank hisses from the pain but also sighs in relief for the soft spot under him, ignoring Julie cursing besides him, saying she can still call an ambulance, she doesnt want to lose him, Suz and Joey will be devastated, although he just replies with the phrase they were saying sooner that day “They’ll never take us alive”.

After 20 minutes of agony, low whispers of memories of how they met, what they had been through together and a huge amount of blood moisturing the covers, Frank says he’s feeling light-headed, Julie looks at him and he’s paper white, the blood loss is finally getting to him, she wants to cry, scream, curse and stab that damn cop a hundred times again, but all she does is cuddle her head harder against his shoulder and tell him she loves him, that she will keep his legacy alive, with Joey and Susie, she will revenge him. He chuckles and slowly feels the life being drained from his weaked body until everything goes black.

Julie need a few seconds to process. Frank died. For real. He was good a few hours ago, he was right. They would never take them alive. Death could do them apart, but, he never said for how long they would be apart.

She reaches for the gun on the hand under Frank’s body. THAT DAMN GUN. She aims it to the side of her head, never leaving Frank’s side on the bed. Triggers it.

“Partners in crime”

Damn did I just write a fucking fanfiction? This shit is way longer than I expected, did anybody even get down here?

Well, this is the part of the drawing where i left cause I just couldn’t afford to work on it, have in mind everytime the file were opened the whole lore came in my head, and fuck did i feel dizzy writing it all down. Hell the bloody details get me, seeing Frank so white with a blue undertone simulating the lifeless body gave me headaches fr. My escape was drawing other things until the courage to finish it came back. It was easier because the story kinda faded away from my mind, the drawing became “lighter” to deal with.

Well, guess that’s it. I hardly have this big insight while drawing, to visualize the finished piece on my brain and it’s just so fucking cool, making art with so many mixed feelings along, and overall pride, cause i feel so proud with the result you have no idea. It isn’t perfect tho, but i like it anyway. So, thank you so much if you made it all the way here. gonna sleep now for fucks sake im gonna pass out bye

[chaos-monkeyy]

State of Chaos

For WIP Wednesday, I thought I’d try something different! So instead of sharing an excerpt from a work in progress, here is a list of the WIPs I’m working on in my too many fandoms at the moment, both published and not; as well as some blathering about other *ideas* I have that I (probably) (maybe) plan (hope) to write at some point. Feel free to ask for more details or ‘vote’ on what I should focus on if you want, I can’t promise anything but I am highly impressionable, and when people get me excited about something there’s a good chance I’ll work on it 😂

(it’s a long post so I’m just putting it all under a cut! There’s mention of kink fics & ships, but I don’t go into any detail about them)

Assassin’s Creed

Diletto (working title) Ezio/Caterina and Ezio/Caterina/Leo, where Caterina wants to be the one to do the fucking, Ezio is more than amenable to this idea, and Leonardo da Vinci makes the world’s first strap-on. First chapter rough draft is written, as well as a few little chunks of chapter 2! Writing F/M fic is always a bit out there for me, but I am very excited about how this one is coming along. 

The skills of Assassins  The Ezio/Mario sexy training one! Three chapters published and while I’ve got several ideas for other chapters, I haven’t started actually writing them yet 🙈 I’m at that point where I need to balance I want more porn with not just getting repetitive… 

Plans  I really want to write some Ezio/Leo smut, got this idea for playful ‘how much can I distract you’ while Leonardo is deciphering one of Ezio’s codex pages (he always bends over the worktable to do it and I just. I can’t not). I also have Thoughts about a couple more kink fics, including a Shaun POV sequel to Not here 😏 And I just, I have to write something with silver fox Revelation’s Ezio. No idea what yet, but god damn he’s sexy. 

The Dresden Files

Nothing really in progress, exactly, though I’ve been kicking around a Dresden/Marcone idea where Marcone hires a Harry look-alike to play out his fantasies of Domming the fuck out of that fucking wizard. (Honestly, there’s so many pairings in TDF that I love the thought of, but just never quite manage to come up with something to write for them… Perhaps I’ll continue my read-through of the series in a search for inspiration.) 

The Expanse

Also nothing actively in progress; I have a couple fic ideas that I still really like the thought of (including a ‘proto-Miller getting freaky with the mind games and double-teaming Holden’ threesome), but I’m not sure if/when I’ll get around to writing any of them. If a new book or season comes out, that might kickstart the interest again.

Midsomer Murders 

A short holiday (working title) Just a standalone PWP / Porn with Feelings for my OG OT3. John, Sarah, and Ben spending a long weekend together in a nicely remote cottage with a hot tub and a fireplace, and having a whole lot of sexy sex and cuddles. Probably featuring needy bottom!John and Sarah demanding some good old-fashioned DP from the two of them. I’ve got some of the start written and I pick at it every now and then when I’m feeling sappy. 

Behind the scenes The companion fic to Falls into place. I still have ideas that I wanted to do, but ever since MM got taken off Netflix, it’s made it harder to write for the show at all and for this little ficlets collection in particular 😭 

Midsomer x Wallace and Gromit crossover  This is a semi-secret project I’ve been working at slowly for over a year now, and a rare non-smutty work 😱 I really like it and do plan to finish it.. someday, but given that it’s an actual fucking story, with no sexy times or shipping, it’s very very out of my comfort zone. So… slow going, to say the least 😅

Plans I really do want to write a werewolf!Jones fic for Bobbit, I just need to figure out what it is exactly that I want to do with it… I also I had a few more ideas for Just Relax (the John dealing with / helping / being there for stress-bunny Ben series), but I have no clue if I’ll ever get around to actually writing them out or not. 

Star Wars

(Come) Ride With Me Got some sexy stuff written out for Chapter 3 (I actually wrote it before even finishing BLJ, it’s what got me writing the damn sequel / companion fic in the first place), but I’m having trouble getting the chapter set-up started. It’ll happen eventually!

Orgy fic That self-indulgent fuckfest I’ve been working at with Jewell for ages, ft. Formbi/Ronan, Ar’alani/Faro, Thrawn/Eli/Nightswan, and Thrass/Everybody. It’s maybe a solid half-done? But damn it’s a lot of POVs to get right and a lot of… bodies and activities to keep track of 😆 (it’s frikken hot though, if I do say so myself)

Sequel to Pinned and Control  I did write out a little tiny chunk for that, and Rev and I have Ideas(TM) for it. I’m still tentatively hopeful they’ll come to fruition someday 😂 experienced young sexpot Eli and older flustered inexperienced Thrawn is just too good to leave dormant forever. 

Plans  Still got a couple more Thrawn/Thrass oneshots I wanna write for the Stripped series. But I know it’s going to make me sad as well as horny if you’ve read Outbound Flight you know why so I haven’t been in just the right mood to actually write them yet. I also really want to write a crack-adjacent Thranto gloryhole fic, a deliciously sacrilegious modern Earth AU with Eli essentially dirty-talking priest!Thrawn in the confessional, a Thrawn/Eli/Thrass ‘he had to marry both brothers’ AU of some kind, a NightThrawn ice to fire sequel, and a part 2 for Consequences. And maybe some Thrawn/Fenn porny oneshots set in the Peace Bearer universe I mean what 😇

The Witcher

Flagrant Indecency Chapter 4 is partially written, and I have basic plans for chapter 5! This is a tough one just cause… yeah. More panic / embarrassment than what I usually write for omo, but I am happy with how it’s coming along. I signed up for Wolfie’s finish your fic fest with this one, so I plan to have ch 4 up in a couple weeks and the fic finish by (…whatever the event deadline is, september I think?) at the latest!

No title yet  I got ambushed the other day by a Geraskier fic idea involving an incubus hunt gone wrong, juiced-up demanding bottom!Geralt, and inappropriate (but consensual) use of Axii. It’s coming along very nicely 😏 chances are good it’ll be the next thing I publish but honestly, I can never be totally sure what the Brain will decide to do.

Plans  There’s a few things I want to get done at some point, including: Geralt discovers Jaskier’s glove kink by accident and they have a lot of fun with that; a sequel to Undignified with more omo thirst trap Jaskier; Geralt’s first time getting fucked / being with a man at all because he walked in on Jaskier and now he’s curious and Jaskier is more than happy to oblige; and possibly one or two sequels to Intoxicating as well because I love my problematic dynamics too much to leave it there. Oh! And maybe a sequel to Tight Fit as well, Jaskier is nothing if not determined 😏

[gumnut-logic]

Need (Part One)

Title: Need

Part One

Author: Gumnut

8 Mar 2020

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: We need to do what we need to do.

Word count: 1944

Spoilers & warnings: Season 3

Timeline: Sometime after the end of season 3

Author’s note: This last week saw my muse completely fry under stress, mostly from work. I didn’t write for something like five days. I couldn’t write. It was bad. Nutty was a frazzled mess. So, when I did start writing, I didn’t care what I wrote as long as I managed to get something down on the page after being unable to for so long. So, we have the beginning of another fic. I have written and completed Part Two and am into Part Three so there is more to come, I promise. This does not mean I’m abandoning any of my other WIPs, I just need to be kind to myself or I’ll end up writing nothing. This is better than nothing, trust me. I hope you enjoy it anyway.

This is in answer to the ‘brain trauma’ prompt from the whump prompt list. Many thanks to @sofasurf for the suggestion and the plotwork chat ::hugs you::

Many thanks to @scribbles97​ and @i-am-chidorixblossom​ for the read throughs and reassurance.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

 “Dad, I’m over eighteen. It’s my leave, I can do what I want.”

It was said calmly, without malice, but Virgil still frowned as he walked into the comms room.

“Regardless, Alan, I still don’t think it is a very good idea.”

Just as equally calm and considered. Their father was standing near his desk frowning at Alan who was in the sunken lounge not quite glaring up at his father.

“It is safe, Dad. The track has the best safety record on the planet.”

“It is still car racing, Alan.”

“I fly a rocket. How can racing a car be more dangerous than that?”

“It isn’t the car. It’s all the other cars that complicate the matter.”

“That’s what makes it fun!”

“Alan-“

“I really want to do this, Dad.” A swallow. “And I’m going to. I’m sorry.”

Virgil watched as his father straightened, his expression stiffening. “I only want you to be safe, son.”

Alan climbed up out of the pit and approached their dad. “I know.” A hug was offered and the older man drew his son into his arms.

Only Virgil could see the desperation in his father’s expression as he scrunched his face up behind Alan’s shoulder and the engineer realised neither of them knew he was there. Virgil had the sudden urge to backtrack and get out of the room before they discovered him.

Too late.

A pair of grey eyes opened and caught sight of him and widened just slightly.

Father and son parted. Alan, still unaware of Virgil’s presence, looked up at their dad. “I’ll do you proud, I promise.”

Their father looked down. Quietly. “You already have.”

A nudge and Dad indicated Virgil’s presence.

Alan jumped.

And so he should. This was a discussion that had already occurred between Scott, Virgil and Alan on several occasions. Sure, now his brother was eighteen and technically he could do what he wanted, but Scott had forbidden it multiple times already.

“Oh, hey, Virg.”

“Alan.” He put everything he needed into his little brother’s name.

Dad frowned.

Virgil narrowed his gaze to the young astronaut. “Scott is working on One. You should go give him a hand.”

“Virg-“

“Now.”

Whispered. “FAB.” He slunk out of the room, his expression one of dread.

That left Virgil with his father.

“Hey, Dad.”

The older man turned back to his desk and poked at a holographic file. “Good morning, Virgil.”

“How are you feeling today?” He couldn’t help himself. He probably shouldn’t ask but his concern for his father was a physical thing that gnawed at him in the dark.

Those broad shoulders tensed up.

No, he really shouldn’t ask that question every morning. Damn.

“I’m fine, Virgil. You don’t need to worry.”

“I’m sorry, Dad.”

His father turned slightly to look at him. “It is understandable, but you really need to worry less.”

Virgil snorted. “Habit.” Scott had been worrying him for a lifetime. Dad was just a bonus round at this point.

Of course, that word earned him a frown. “Have you had breakfast?”

“Was on my way down.” When he heard his little brother wrangling his way into getting what he wanted. Scott was going to strangle him when he found out.

“Mind if I join you? A little brunch wouldn’t hurt.”

“What time did you get up?”

The grey glare hit him between his eyebrows and he threw up his hands in defence. “Okay, okay, no more questions about your health.”

“Your Grandma already roasted me this morning. The two of you are going to need to coordinate.”

He had to snort at that.

The two men trotted down the stairs to the kitchen together, rustled up a rather indulgent meal and decided to partake it out on the patio. For once in his life, Gordon was not in the pool, so they had the glorious morning to themselves.

He didn’t fail to notice that his father couldn’t help but stare up into the blue of the sky as if he couldn’t believe it was that colour.

Virgil focussed on his coffee and its gift of sanity, its warmth crawling into his belly and booting his brain.

“Has Alan been driving long?”

An arched eyebrow in his father’s direction. “Not really. He learnt a couple of years ago with Parker, like all of us, but he doesn’t get much of a chance to upkeep the skill.”

“Then why...?”

“He has a thrill-seeking friend. Brandon Berenger.” Initially, Virgil had thought it a great thing for Alan to hang out with the teenager. Scott had his reservations, but had agreed that living like a monk on an island in the middle of the Pacific was not healthy for any of them. Alan found a friend, so he spent time with him.

The problem was teenagehood.

The arguments were inevitable.

“Alan is not stupid, he just wants acceptance with his peer group.”

A wiry smile curled his Dad’s lips. “I remember that.” It slipped into a grin. “Do you still maintain all those piercings?”

“Daad!”

His father held up his hands. “Hey, I did warn you, but you were just as determined.”

Virgil glared at him over the rim of his coffee cup.

“The purple hair was particularly entertaining.”

“Oh god.”

His father snorted and laughed. “Don’t worry, son, we all look back and groan. Trust me.”

“Sure. I bet you were as sharp and as perfect as Scott.”

That earned him an arched eyebrow. “What gave you the idea that Scott was perfect?”

“Uh, the grade average and the air force uniform?”

Another snort.

“What?”

“Not my story to share.”

“Oh, c’mon, if you’ve got dirt on Scott...”

“Of course, I have, Virgil. I’m his father.” The grin was genuine. “It is my prerogative to know all the embarrassing things about my children.” But then the grin faltered.

Virgil reached out and grabbed the older man’s hand. “There is plenty more to come. I have no doubt that Alan will screw up multiple times between here and his twenty-first. Enough for a movie marathon, Dad. You’re here now, we value that more than you can know.”

A shaky exhale. “I’ve missed so much, Virgil.”

“We’re still here. We still love you. It wasn’t your fault.” He had said those words so many times in the last year. At his father’s bedside. In the dark of night after nightmares. He had done his best to reassure, to reinforce the man’s confidence.

The irony was that the father he knew before his stranding wouldn’t have taken so much notice of his son’s opinion. Their relationship and most definitely been father and son. Now the relationship had changed. Jeff Tracy wasn’t as strong as he used to be. He had been shaken, he doubted himself, thrown by what he had missed and didn’t know about his sons. Grandma was there for him, but it was with Virgil, not Scott, the man was willing to discuss some of his concerns.

Virgil was both grateful and worried about this state of affairs. He helped in any way he could. Caught between a sometimes frantic Scott and an injured father, it was a challenge. But if they needed him, he was there.

Of course, that was the very moment his comms went off.

“Hey, Virg, have you got a spare hydrospanner?”

Virgil rolled his eyes and thumbed his collar. “Gordon, where is yours?”

“Uh...”

“You know if you put them away when you’ve finished with them, you tend to be able to find them next time you want them.”

“Augh, yes, Mom.”

His father raised an eyebrow.

“You borrow mine, it goes back when you are finished.”

“I know the rules, Virg. Where have you stashed it. I’m in your workshop and I can’t find it.”

“Gordon-“

“I’m in a hurry, Virg. There’s coolant leaking all over the deck of module four.”

“What the hell, Gordon?”

“Kill me later, spanner now.”

Virgil shot an apologetic look at his father. “I’m coming down.”

“Virg-“ He killed the connection.

“I’ll be back in a moment, Dad.”

The eyebrow was still raised. “Take your time. Sounds like you’ll need it.”

Virgil glared at him and stalked his way down to the hangars.

-o-o-o-

Virgil loved his aquanaut brother, but although the fish could manage maintenance on his ‘bird, anything more complicated and he really needed a hand. Virgil was quite happy to be that hand on most occasions, but a little more notice would have been useful.

He left the aquanaut scrubbing the deck of module four and headed back upstairs to finish his breakfast.

He actually enjoyed moments with his father. They had connected in a way since he had come back that hadn’t been possible before. And he cherished it.

Of course, it hadn’t been perfect. He never expected it to be, but to have the chance to talk with his father in any way was such a blessing, he could only value the opportunity.

So, he was a little disappointed when he heard his father talking to someone else as he approached from the kitchen.

“You should be proud. He is so much like you.”

Virgil stopped where he was. Who?

“He has your eyes and your kindness, and such strength.” His father sighed and Virgil slipped quietly closer, trying to see who the man was talking to.

The patio was empty except for his father.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Lucy. I don’t know... I try to be their father, but they don’t need me anymore. And Alan...”

The lone figure fell silent and for a moment, his head dropped to stare at his hands in his lap.

“Alan is a young man I don’t know. I love him, honey, and I know you do, too, but I don’t know him. I’m trying. He’s trying. But...love, it’s hard.”

Virgil’s eyes widened and something in his heart snapped. “Dad?”

His father startled and spun in his seat. “Virgil?” But instead of embarrassment or worry, a grin split his face. “Did you save your brother?”

Virgil blinked, his whole emotional state sideswiped and struggling to right itself. “Uh, yeah, we got Four’s temperature regulation system back in one piece. I’ll need to restock our coolant supplies on our next run.” His father had been speaking to his mother. “Dad, you okay?”

Those grey eyes narrowed into a flat stare. “Haven’t we already had this conversation?”

“Uh, yeah, sorry.” His heart was thudding in his chest.

His father frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, Dad, sure.”

Those grey eyes assessed him in a way eerily similar to his eldest son. “Gordon difficult?”

“Huh?” He blinked. “Oh, uh, no. He tries. I have to give him credit for that.”

“That is all we can ask of anyone.” Those eyes were still staring at him.

“Yeah. Uh, I need to speak to Scott. What have you got planned today?”

His father shrugged. “More catch up. Gordon has me for more rehab this afternoon.”

Virgil nodded once. His father was reading mission reports and Tracy Industries updates, slowly coming up to speed on what had happened over the last eight years, realigning himself knowledge-wise as his body slowly did the same. “See you at lunch?”

“Of course.” The frown deepened. “What is it, Virgil?”

Virgil straightened and took better control of himself. “I’m fine, Dad.” A blink. “Take it easy.”

Those grey eyes rolled in their sockets. “I couldn’t do anything else with you around, could I?”

Virgil’s smirk was forced.

“Love you, Dad.”

His father sobered a little, a small smile curling his lips. “Love you, too, Virgil.”

A soft smile, and Virgil turned and fled.

-o-o-o-

End Part One

Part Two

[theastrophilearchitect]

Reworking the plot & getting my hands dirty.

Writing journey #2.

Sat 06/03/2021 - Word Count: 28,150 19.38 So, a month ago, today, actually, I started writing a book. For context, I've sorted out scenes and planned my plot; I'm now simultaneously writing my first draft and outlining scenes in more detail - I'm just into act two of my draft and just into act three of the outline.

I included today in my first writing post, which you can find here, but, while outlining, I realised something that will result in a major plot change (even though I probably should wait until revisions, it sorts out the climax I'm currently incredibly vague on, and will help me actually be able to complete the draft), and felt it was time to start a different post, because the other one was long, and already had its own focus.

Previously, I've been setting mildly insane word count goals, and even though I'm sticking to vague targets, I'm going to drop that, because I need to do a major plot change, and that'll mean the word count isn't going up that much for a while.

So, I have my first and second acts good, but while outlining act three, I've realised the event at the start of act three would work better as a climax than the vague battle idea I have. It just seems more original, more effective, but it means I need to shift events around and re-figure the first block of act three. I'll begin tonight, but it's already 8pm, so I'll probably do most of it tomorrow.

Sun 07/03/2021 - Word Count: 28,365 08.24 I'm reworking act three, and I think I may just drop drafting for the moment and focus on incorporating the edits I have in mind, then start drafting over. I know all the advice says not to go back and edit, but this is a big change I can't wait to do, so it seems opportune to just make the others, too.

08.31 I've now finished reworking act three, and I'm much more satisfied with it than I was before. I do now need to go through the scenes again, however.

13.57 Still re-scening. This is frustrating, but I've decided when I'm back to drafting, I'm going to drop my daily minimum to just 500 words - even though I'll make very little progress at that pace, it's more realistic considering I'm about to be plunged back into the world of homework and commuting, and it's something I'll always be able to meet to help me keep in the habit of daily writing. Word count isn't applicable when I'm doing re-scening like today, though.

Something else I've noticed, when I'm writing literally anything, I'm just scribing the words I'm literally hearing in my head, which is a little bit of a problem because where I wrote 'meet' just now, I meant 'meet' but heard 'eat' in my head and wrote 'eat'.

17.07 I feel like I'm finally making some progress - I've been writing on-and-off all day. My word count has actually decreased a couple hundred words since yesterday, but Scrivener is convinced I've written 42,000 words today, which I obviously haven't. I've typed a lot of words, but not that many, not all of which added to that since deleting words takes words off that number. It thinks I've written so many, however, because I duplicated my act one folder twice (then deleted it, obviously, because I don't need three copies of the same act) but Scrivener doesn't take off the words when you delete the file, only when you literally hit backspace.

17.50 Sorting out my climax, I'm realising how bad it was before. Which I guess is good, because it shows internal criticism and growth...? Or something...?

21.04 I've totally planned out the majority of act three, but I haven't finished it because where I'm up to ends with my characters essentially making a game plan, and since I'm not yet sure what that game plan is, I can't outline the bit where they carry out the plan, but I'll do that later. I've incorporated some of the edits I wanted to make, though I've left a couple out because they're less drastic and I'm not sure whether or not to include them, so I'm going to sort that either during or after my first draft.

Since I've made quite a few changes that will affect the parts I've already drafted, I'm going to start my draft over, and reset my word count, but I'll do that tomorrow. For now, Scrivener thinks I've written 42,385 words today, which I absolutely have not, and my word count is currently 28,365, but I'm going to remove every outline and drafted piece I've done so I can start from zero for what I'm going to call draft #1.4, because I already wrote a version of about 40% of it.

God, my word count has gone back to 0 of my minimum 50,000. That hurts. It really hurts. My actual goal is more 70-90K, but 50K is my minimum, so that's what I'm going with for now.

Anyway, goodnight, and good luck me.

Mon 08/03/2021 - Word Count: 820 So, I wrote 820 words before school, then got home, attempted to do some homework and lost all motivation and will to do... anything. Which means I'm very glad I did over my 500 words this morning.

Tue 09/03/2021 - Word Count: 1,367 15.07 I called this a #1.4 draft, but it's more like a #1.3. Anyway, writing is so much less stressful when I'm working from something I've already written - with the first section, so far, at least, I'm basically just editing the writing itself rather than the events because I'm pretty happy, at least at the moment, with my first couple chapters. Very little thinking required.

Also, it's been over 30 hours since I've written because I did my writing before school yesterday, but haven't written yet today because I've got so much work to get done for school. It feels like it's been forever.

16.17 I've finished rewriting chapter one, and still have a lot of fuel in my tank (that's a hideous metaphor) but I think I'm going to cut off today at 547 words, just because I have quite a lot on my plate this week, and I'd like to invest some time in actually reading the book I started eight days ago, and am only 200 pages of the way through.

Wed 10/03/2021 - Word Count: 2,082 I could write significantly more than 500 words most days, but it really is easier to set a minimum that doesn't feel like a strain, so that's what I'm sticking with for now.

Thu 11/03/2021 - Word Count: 2,801

Fri 12/03/2021 - Word Count: 3,405

Sat 13/03/2021 - Word Count: 32,211 07.40 I've just had nothing extra to say the last couple days, which is ironic considering how much I wrote each day of the last post, which went up yesterday! Anyway, it's finally Saturday, and even though I have exactly zero motivation to do anything this morning, I've been awake for two hours already (I recently discovered I like mornings??) and I think it's time to get going. Still sticking to my 500 word minimum, but since it's Saturday, I'm going to invest most of the day in writing, so I should surpass that.

08.20 I don't think I've mentioned yet that I dubbed this WIP Bay Tree in this post. Sorry if I have, but I skimmed this post and can't find it. So, this is about to get messy. I'm basically just cleaning up my prose, but there's so little point doing that when I'm not certain each scene will stay. There's no point editing a chapter unless I know it's sticking around.

So we're reverting, and this is about to get messy. I didn't quite finish my initial draft of chapter seven, because I wasn't sure how exactly the event at the end of it would happen, but I think I'm just going to delve into it. I'm going to add everything, including outlines, back to my word count, finish writing chapter seven, then pick up where I left off in chapter nine. Okay. That's why my word count is jumping around.

And, just like that, I've gone from 4,074 to 28,864. Well, 500 words accomplished. Surpassed, in fact, by just 24,290.

I'm going to aim to just hit 30K by the end of this weekend. I can easily do 1,136 words in two days.

As I've mentioned before, I haven't outlined all the way to the end and through the climax--I have a fairly clear idea of how I want it to do go down, but I'm not sure what I want the characters' plan to actually be, so I currently have 21 chapters, but I'm projecting 23-26, which, at about 3,000 words each, is pretty damn good, especially when it'll just get longer as I redraft (she says optimistically).

Already feeling more motivated now my word count's higher.

09.54 Oh! Also, I logged onto Tumblr today to find someone reblogged my last writing post with a really positive, encouraging comment. It's nice to think I'm bringing someone else a little joy with this.

11.13 And we hit 30K! I'm not quite done for the day, but I do need to go pack. Also, I've been operating under the impression the minimum word count for a novel is 50K, but it's actually 40K, which, though I'm only about 40% of the way to my projected total word count, I'm officially 75% of the way to being able to say I've written a novel.

I'm so glad I've gotten as far as I have, and I just hope I can keep myself going to the end.

12.27 This post is going to look really strange to read - if you're only looking at the word counts, it looks like I've written nearly 27K words today. That makes sense.

Oh, and I finished chapter seven. Like an hour ago.

13.52 At this point, I have literally no idea what continuity things I've already established, so I'm just going by a let-my-future-self-suffer philosophy.

14.36 That's chapter nine done. That leaves chapters 10 to nobody-knows. I'm going to stop writing now, but I wrote nearly 4,000 words today (plus recounting about 20K) so I don't exactly think this cut-off will be detrimental.

Sun 14/03/2021 - Word Count: 35,548 07.58 I’ve written over a thousand words already, and it isn’t even 8am yet. Being a morning person is genuinely the best thing ever as an introvert--I’m asleep when people want to socialise, and awake when no-one else is. That makes me sound like a hermit. I love it anyway, and feel like I’m stacking up for a good writing day. 35K is probably a little overambitious, but what’s life without aspiration?

09.04 As I’m going, I’m realising my plot is actually coherent, and being surprised that I can actually make a story without plot holes (as of yet.)

09.21 And that makes the first eleven chapters drafted! 

...And, Houston, we have a problem. Dammit. Eleven chapters, and I haven’t established one of the most important world-building points. Which is especially irritating because it needs to be established by chapter twelve. Unless I can establish it at the start of chapter twelve? We’ll go with that, so I don’t have to go back, then I’ll sort it out in edits or draft two or something.

I’ve just started writing chapter twelve, but I think, having written 2,600 words today already, I need a break. I have less than 500 words until I hit 35K, but I’m going to leave it for now, and come back this evening. I should be able to hit 40K this week.

18.19 And that makes 35K. Chapter twelve is only two scenes, and I’ve written one, but having written 3,000 words so far today, I’m going to leave it until tomorrow.

Mon 15/03/2021 - Word Count: 36,337 17.19 So there’s a crucial plot point just after my midpoint, and I’m not completely sure what to do. I mean, I know what I’m doing--I just wasn’t sure exactly how I wanted it to go, but now I know. The issue is other stuff needs to be pre-established, and I’ve worked out where it needs to go, but I don’t know whether or not I want to go back and write those bits now, or just make note of it and add it in draft two.

I think I’m just going to make note, plough ahead, and deal with it in draft two. I’m trying to figure out exactly how I’m going to operate after this draft: things generally say put it down for a few weeks, come back for edits, then go into your next draft, but I feel like I’m already going to have so many edits gathered by the time I reach the end of this draft, I should just go back into it, but time will probably be beneficial. Not that it actually matters now. I’m only just halfway through an under-draft (by that I mean it’s going to get a lot longer). I’m going to add new scenes in my next draft and generally fiddle with plot aspects, but as quite a linear writer, I think I’m more naturally inclined to just incorporate aspects in a draft rather than as edits. I’m not sure. Does that even make any sense? 

Depending on when I finish this draft, I think I’ll plan to pick it back up May 1st, and just see how I’m feeling. But, again, this all depends on when I finish the draft, and how I’m feeling when that time comes.

Tue 16/03/2021 - Word Count: 37,025 I bought my Scrivener license today! Yay!

Wed 17/03/2021 - Word Count: 38,408 08.04 This is mostly irrelevant to my project, but I just wanted to mention the odd fact that I’m definitely a plotter when it comes to longer pieces, but when I do shorter pieces, creative or essays, for school, I hate planning, and just start immediately, then go back and edit. Huh.

Thu 18/03/2021 - Word Count: 38,950 I’m going to edit this, but writing the date just now I noticed I’ve put 2019 for the last three days. It’s absolutely not, and I know why I did that, but still.

14.31 Also, Oxford commas? Found out what they were. Granted, that was actually a few days ago.

Fri 19/03/2021 - Word Count: 40,139 06.55 Even though I wrote 500 words yesterday, I didn’t quite reach my goal of 39K, just because I had to stop writing 50 words off, and by the time I had the opportunity to go back, I just wanted to go to bed. So, today, my goal is to hit 40K words, and officially be able to say I’ve hit the minimum word count for a novel.

Honestly, I’m starting to lose my love for this project. I’m still enjoying working on it, don’t get me wrong, but I’m anticipating finishing it because I know exactly what I want to write next. I feel like I’m mostly still working on it as a lesson, and I know it’s not what I ultimately want to write--mostly because it’s not super high-concept, and high-concept stuff is what I want to be writing. I am still enjoying working on it, I’m just not sure I’ll get to the ‘final line-edits’ stage. But who knows?

10.19 And that marks 40K. We’re in novel terriority, people. And, yes, I could correct that spelling, but I’d like to draw attention to how bad I am at spelling when typing. I’m excellent at spelling in writing, and wrong spellings bother me, but when I’m typing, my fingers are just trying to keep up with my mind, which means I try to type a letter and the one after it at the same time, and often end up with letters in the wrong order and punctuation in the wrong place. Or I just hit halfway between two keys instead of the key I’m going for, and type a wrong letter. Anyway, that was meant to say territory. See? I can spel..

Or I just double the punctuation instead of the last letter.

So I’m definitely not meeting my old goal of 80K words or a finished draft by the end of the month--that’d be another 40K words in just 12 days--but I’m definitely on track to finish by the end of April.

Sat 20/03/2021 - Word Count: 40,692 15.30 God, second acts are hard. I hate being in the middle. At the start, you have novelty, and at the end (not that I would know from experience) you have the knowledge you’re near the end, that you’ve already written most of it.

I’m currently operating the reminder, ‘You’ve written an act before, why not again?’, in hopes that’ll eventually extend to, ‘You’ve finished a draft before, why not again?’ and ‘You’ve written an entire book before, why not again?’

I’ve literally written 243 words so far today, and I just don’t want to. Normally, I sit down, I slog through the first hundred or so words, then pick up momentum. Maybe it’s just because chapter 13 is a boring part to write. Ha. 13. Just my luck.

I’m being nice to myself because a lot has happened in my life over the last few days, but I still want to write a minimum of 500 words, even though most Saturdays I can write more like 3,000.

21.41 I’d like to be asleep. That sounds like fun. Today slipped through my grasp, and I haven’t even written 300 words, but I am going to try to at least hit 500. And then maybe write thousands and thousands tomorrow, but I’m also going to bake a cake, and I’m notorious for being able to make cooking and baking take at least three times as long as is necessary.

21.57 So I got just past 500. Relatively speaking, that’s not that impressive for me, but it’s more words than most people in the world added to their manuscripts today, so I have to give myself some credit. (I’m working on crediting myself for productivity rather than degrading myself for not being productive--I could go on for hours about how much it pisses me off that capitalism teaches us productivity=worth in everything, not just business, but I’m going off on a tangent.)

Sun 21/03/2021 - Word Count: 41,466 08.08 Cakes baked! And I’ve come to a conclusion about how irritating I am to myself--I didn’t fully outline the latter half of act two (by which I mean I have each scene and a purpose of each scene, but virtually no detail) which I can absolutely cope with, but it does slow me down. Anyway, I’m waiting for my cakes to cool, then I can ice them.

14.28 I wanted to write up to 42K this weekend, which I don’t think is going to happen. I’ve written 774 words, so passed my 500-word minimum, but haven’t yet reached 42K, and don’t think I’m going to this weekend. I just don’t have much motivation, which may just be because of the part I’m on, but I’d rather work through this part really slowly then pick up the pace when I get to the part I want to be writing, than force myself to write this section quickly and poorly, then not want to continue into act three. So, sticking to 500 words a day; I may do more later, but I’m leaving it for now.

Mon 22/03/2021 - Word Count: 42,006 17.56 God, I don’t want to write today. I’m going to anyway, because I haven’t yet failed 500 words. They can be a shitty 500 words, but they have to be 500 words. Also, the scene I wrote yesterday? Absolutely getting deleted. But I’m leaving it for now because I refuse to lose those 800 words.

I really enjoy putting edits at the bottom of scenes in brackets and making them unnecessarily wordy so Scrivener thinks I’ve written significantly more words than I actually have.

18.31 Yay, did it. I’m really hoping I can just work through this low spot and don’t have to take a break. I’m on the penultimate chapter of act two, and the first few chapters of act three are really exciting, so I’ll know if I need to take a break based on whether I get motivated when I get to that part.

Tue 23/03/2021 - Word Count: 42,124 16.37 GOD, I need a break. I don’t have motivation, even for 500 words. You know what? I’m just going to make a note of the scene idea I had earlier, and I’m going to take a week’s break. Unless I get antsy, in which case I may end it earlier, but, I’m not going to write again until Tuesday the 30th. Unless I get antsy. FUCK.

I’m just reminding myself breaks are good and important, but I still hate that I’m taking one without finishing my first draft. Tue 30/03/2021, I will be back! Though my word count may increase between now and then as I note down any ideas I have, which I will update with. Okay. Just leave it.

Sun 28/03/2021 - Word Count: 42,150 10.47 Since Tuesday, I’ve made some notes on my phone of little things I want to change, but haven’t added them to my project file, so the word count hasn’t gone up.

Last night, I was just thinking about how badly I wanted to get back to this project, but this morning, I just... don’t. I’ve been thinking it through, and I’m not ready to drop this project yet, but I’m just not happy with what I have at the moment. So, I’m going to add my notes to the file, and then leave it for a few weeks, so I can return with edits in mind, apply them, and then start what I guess will be like a 1.7 draft, because I didn’t finish this draft.

In the meantime, however, I do want to keep writing, so I’m going to start another project in the meantime, which I can work on a lot in the next few weeks because, in a few days, I get a couple weeks off, which won’t be completely free of work, but will give me a lot more time to dedicate to this.

I think I’m going to say I’ll return to Bay Tree (or at least review, if, say, I just want to dedicate a little more time to whatever phase of the new project before I move on) on May 10th, because that’s basically when I get to relax after my exams finish.

So I’ll add the notes I have so far, keep making notes on my phone, and return on May 10th.

Which wraps up this writing update--a new one will come with my new project!

[one-of-us-must-be-crazy]

👀 spare a WIP for a weary traveller

This isn’t going to happen for a LONG TIME but spoilers, eventually in Lucky Star, Christopher gets a little more human, and finds a hobby that he rather likes.

“You’re reading one of his?”

“What?” Ripley bent the mass market completely in half, setting it upside down on the coffee table. Samuels winced.

“That author,” he specified. 

“Oh, yeah. I’ve read the whole series so far,”

“I didn’t think high-fantasy interested you much.”

“Not usually, but I’m over the shoot-outs, military lit, and what generally passes for fantasy anymore. Retro science fiction only goes so far too,” she shrugged. “But I kind of like this guy, he’s got a…I don’t know, his perspective is weird. I like it. Except that thing in this one, where they brought in the wyvren hatchery, the way they move…Reminds me too much of shit.”

“I like what he did with them though; dragons are far too beloved of a feature to demonize at this point, especially by a newer voice.”

“You read them?” Amanda perked up.

“…Technically.”

“What did you think?”

“I want to know what you thought—“

“Nope, you first.”

“I think they could have been better,” he began. “Too many instances where you can tell the author is merely reciting a scene instead of creating one. I think several conversations between the knights and their lords are taken from his own experiences,” there’s more he could pick apart, so much more, but Amanda looks crestfallen as it is, and he’s a little confused by it.

“Yeah but I don’t think he was wearing armor, or talking about a surge of monsters in real life.”

“Well, you never know,” he said with a slight grin. 

“What do you mean?”

“You know that I’ve met many, many people through the company. I could have possibly seen him one day,”

“There’s no fucking way that you’ve met McClaren,” Amanda crossed her arms.

“Why not?”

“He lives in Scotland, for one; two, he’s probably ancient, so what would he be doing in the HR office of Weyland-Yutani, on Luna?”

“I don’t know, but I am familiar with him.”

“You’re lying,” she didn’t bother biting back her smile—she never bothered to around him.

“I’m not lying, and I’ll prove it to you,” she didn’t ask him to elaborate further, and he vanished for a short moment to his office, returning with a hardcover of the second novel.

“So you own a hardcover?”

“Open it,” he said, handing it to her. Amanda raised her eyebrow at him, flicking through the pages, before falling back on something strange on the title page that she missed in her copy of the book.

“holy shit. He signed it for you? The guy never does signings!”

“How do you know he doesn’t?”

“I looked him up once...read a lot about him. I thought you’d like the series, and I was going to try to find a boxed set of it for a gift for you, and see if I could get it signed. But then I found out that a) he doesn’t fucking sign anything ever, b) no one knows what he even looks like, and c) there’s another book left."

“There’s at least one, but knowing him he’ll probably drag it out for another two. He isn’t exactly...aware of human time and space.”

“Wait...Are you still in contact at all?”

“Yes but you can’t talk to him. I’m afraid to lose you to him,”

“Shut up,”

“I am though; he’s no older than I am. And is…apparently, your type.”

“I have at least three types.”

“He’s…much like me.”

“Then I’d rather keep you, not the updated-famous-writer-you. But I just want to ask him-- I’m mad about the alchemist—how could she not know what she was doing? If the king was using her work to help breed the wyverns, she had to know something, she couldn’t be that blind.”

“Perhaps she thought her work would help someone she loved.”

“That’s a whole other thing, that weird statue-hexed-to-life thing by some fuck up of hers? It doesn’t have a soul or a thought of it’s own and it’s...It’s creepy. She never even questioned it. And as far as her research for the wyvren hatchery—how would she think that the king gave a fuck about her science project sex toy—“

“That is awfully cruel, she really thinks that given enough power he might be able to live outside of her study, to be a person.”

“She fucked him though. Without knowing that he can’t say no to her. It was skeevy.”

“We were sleeping together nearly a month before you realized that—at the time—I couldn’t tell you no—“

“Again different story—“

“—is it? And why do you like the character so much if everything she does bothers you that much?”

“…She’s on her own. She came from nothing and now works under the king, not at the big castle of course, but still.”

“I don’t think she thought she was helping the king’s project; or that he was trying to breed monsters in the first place. Her father died in a dead-end battle for him, but…it happens all the time. Accidents. Mishaps. She doesn’t know—“ “Wait, did her dad die at one of the dens?! Oh my god it’s too long until the next one. And shit, if--” Amanda stops herself. Samuels isn’t going to call the guy up just becuase she wants spoilers, but--, well. Actually, that’s the exact kind of thing that Samuels would do.

“She does find out; and her ‘sex toy’ finds the record of her father’s death.”

“How do you—do you have an advanced copy?” he leaves the room again, and she half expects another treasure, an early release with a note in the front, maybe? Instead, he returns with the notebook she had bought him for Christmas. 

“I’m…getting to the point where it’s beyond something that I can…bend out of my own experiences. I don’t want to lean too heavily on folklore but for now it’s the best I can do to avoid just copying out Beowulf.”

“…….You wrote a fanfiction?”

“Amanda, I wrote the whole series.” His partner is silent, and he’s wondering if she hasn’t already guessed it in the past, but she’s clearly in shock. “The author’s first two initials are ‘C. S.’ and that didn’t—“

“I thought it was a Narnia reference!”

“How didn’t you figure out you’re a main character—“

“……I’m the creepy alchemist?! And--she’s like…minor royalty. And pretty.”

“I think you are,” there’s a moment when it clicks in, the secondary character, her hair color, her attitude, her lover, her missing parent, her drive, her lover’s tender affection towards—and it clicked. And other scenes clicked too.

“You wrote and published a sex scene about us?”

“….I’m sorry? It was a fade-to-black though, nothing happened on the page. In the moment it felt like that’s...where they wanted to go.”

“When were you going to tell me about this? Not--not the alchemist but all of it, how did you even keep this a secret???”

“I started…writing memories. Then I could change them. Slightly, and eventually I could reset them entirely and even add and take things and…I figured out how to make things up. As for how I kept it a secret, well, I don’t require a fraction of the rest that you do, and while I do enjoy relaxing with you, I like feeling as if I’m accomplishing something.”

“Look at you figuring out how to be creative,” she did look proud of him, and she was, even if it would take a while to fully comprehend it.

“I’d appreciate it...if no one else found out.”

“People love you—“

“They love a thing that I made.”

“And you by extension—“

“I’d lose my royalties, copyrights, and probably my waking job too if I was exposed on a large scale.”

“You’re being dramatic—royalties?”

“…I…I’ve been saving them.”

“For what? I mean you make a decent check at the meteo center, and the flat’s paid off so what—“

“If you ever want to try--the genetics laboratory on Titan.. We’ll need tickets, lodging for multiple months. Supplies. Medical—it’s…not—don’t think that you have to make your mind up if you aren’t ready--only if you did I thought having the funds ready would...”

“I’m the one that brought it up, but I think…Another day we’ll talk about it but—spoil it for me,” she changed the subject. “Tell me what’s going to happen.”

“You can read it.”

“…You did’t write another sex scene did you?”

“….Yes but not for publication. There’s one that I was going to include but—it was too tasteless, it didn’t suit the rest of the story, and I thought it unnecessary. They arrive back at the main group the following afternoon, walking closer, touching more. Readers will know something happened.”

“But you did write it.”

“…I did. I also wrote another six hundred pages of plot and character development aside from it.”

“I want to read it,”

“Read the actual story first—please I don’t know what I’m doing with it, and it’s overdue to the editor—“

“I’m sure it’s perfect—“ she remembers the dedications at the opening of each book perfection’s closest being, love of my eternity. “The dedications… I’m…I’m the woman they’re all for. All those thank you’s and acknowledgements and—“

“There’s no one else,” he means it in honesty and love. Of course there’s no one else. So few friends and so few confidants. If there were more, she’d still be the one they’re dedicated to, but as it stands, there is quite literally no one else. 

“Could you read it to me? The whole thing. I want to hear it, if it’s so important to you.”

“That’s a lot of –“

“Just a little! Each night a chapter or two. I want to hear it from you, how it was meant to be heard.”

AAAAAND that’s all you get. This is a stand alone bit inside of my “bad AU ideas” file that often ends up getting chopped up for later chapters of LS. This is likely to happen but the thing with Titan isn’t (a genetics lab, the sense being that they’d eventually have a kid/science project of their own). Maybe a one-shot becuase Samuels fretting over an infant is ridiculously cute but it’s not gonna fit the final version of them in Lucky Star.

[fleetofshippyships-archive]

Fanfic Author Meme

Tagged by @diligent-thunder and @rockmarina​ =)

Okay, so I’m me, and I talked way too much, so I’m putting this under a cut to save your dashes. You’re welcome 😘

Please do not reblog this post.

Author Name: 

Fleetofshippyships + Knowyourincantations + Legendaryroar

Fandoms You Write For: 

(in order of decreasing # of fics) Harry Potter, Voltron, Merlin, Yuri on Ice, Star Trek, Star Wars and then a few one-offs that aren’t really worth mentioning.

Where You Post: 

AO3 primarily, Tumblr, trying to post more on Pillowfort, I also post on a couple of sites for knowyourincantations

Most Popular One-Shot: 

Fleetofshippyships: Potter’s Insatiable Cock (Drarry, Explicit (duh XD), 20k (viewable only for logged-in AO3 users)).

Knowyourincantations: A Decent Start to Things (Pansmione, Teen, 7k)

Legendaryroar: Finding Time for Rest (Sheith (Voltron), Teen, 3k)

Most Popular Multi-Chapter Story: 

RestraintNone of my old multi-chapter fics are available to read at this time and I don’t really write multi-chapter fics anymore.

If oneshot/drabble collections or two-shots count, then:

Fleetofshippyships: Vanilla and Sweet Spices (Drarry, Explicit, 2 chapters, 20k)

and this really doesn’t count, but technically it has multiple ‘chapters’ soooooooooo

Legendaryroar: Kinktober 2018 (Multiple ships (Voltron), Explicit (duh), 31 ‘chapters’, 26k)

Favourite Story You Wrote: 

I don’t think I ever have a static favourite, I’ve just written too many things, I too quickly move on to the next (and frequently forget some of my own fics exist XD), but recently I re-read In Pursuit of Red Wine (Dreville, Teen, 29k) and really enjoyed that again, and I am really attached to it cos it was my first longish rarepair fic, kind of proving to myself that I can write longer rarepair stuff. 

I also recently re-read Unburdened (Merthur (BBC Merlin), Explicit, 2k) and really enjoyed that too, had a total disconnect from having written it since it’s been so long, so I was able to read it without self-judging, and oh boy that was nice. 

I’m also quite proud of Healing What’s Left (Parkgrass, Teen, 2k) for some reason, I dunno, maybe the dark political backdrop of the fic, or maybe just cos it’s the first time I’ve written Daphne as the main character and I’m happy with the result and now have some headcanons about her rather than her being an unknown blank character to me. 

I also binge read a lot of my Voltron stuff recently and had big feels over that so....I also specifically enjoyed re-reading The Perks of Skincare (Klance (Voltron), Explicit, 3k) again cos I dunno, I like how I wrote Lance XD and also the Sheith fic I linked earlier is a fav for sure. Shiro/Rest is the ultimate OTP.

It really depends how soon after I write something or when I go back to re-read it as to what my fav is at any given time (or people commenting on it and hyping me up for it again).

Story You Were Nervous to Post: 

Everything. But most recently I was terrified out of my mind before posting: 

Friday Night by the Fire (Harry/Neville, Teen, 583 words) because I have a lot of fears about screwing up trying to write ace characters and somehow not even making that a focal point of the drabble made it even more terrifying,  No More Waiting (TianShan (19 Days), Teen, 2k) because it was a new fandom to write in, Harry Potter and the Maudlin Merman series (Drarry, Teen+ Mature, 3k +6k) due to my feelings of inadequacy because it would be better as long fic but I struggle too much with writing these days to write long fics and can only manage short things. I’d rather write this as a long fic, but then I’d never finish it so connected oneshots are the best I can do right now, but I still feel it’s not good enough and have a meltdown whenever I post one. And speaking of which, I’ve been sitting on the next one for months and should probably just fucking post it already.

Actually, most recently: Minding One’s Limits (Cho/Ginny, G rated, 1.5k), because I gave Cho a disability modeled off my fibromyalgia and wrote a scenario similar to something I’d dealt with myself, it was incredibly uncomfortable to write in the first place, and then terrifying to post, even though it’s so short. But in the end I’m proud I finally wrote about it a bit? I dunno, might take me a while to work up the nerve again though XD (also was my first time writing that ship, so there was a lot of nervousness over that too)

Oh, and I was a super ball of anxiety posting  Kinktober 2018 (Multiple ships, Explicit, 31 ‘chapters’, 26k) because for almost all of those it was the first time I was writing those kinks (and some were kind of squicks for me but I wanted to see if I could write them anyway cos I’m dumb like that) and in a lot of cases those ships were completely new for me to write too, in addition to trying to write and post 1 a day, so...yeah. Also that was my first time writing tentacle and human/werewolf smut so...yeah. I was an absolute mess that month and not in a fun way. But I’m still really glad I did it, it was fun =D

In summary, I’m always an anxious mess posting anything, but most especially if it’s something I’ve not written before or is personal to me XD

How Do You Choose Your Titles: 

Most of the time I’m staring down the empty title field in AO3 cursing like a fucking sailor when I choose titles XD Sometimes it’s a line/theme/feeling from the fic. Sometimes it’s totally random and just comes to me. Sometimes I just grasp the first thing that I can no matter how stupid it sounds cos it’s been three days and I still don’t have a title and I’m over it and ready to post before I lose my nerve.

And tbh, it’s only getting harder to think of titles as my number of fics increases, and I’ve now started thinking of the perfect titles only to realise I already have a published fic by that title so....TITLES CAN DIE A FIERY DEATH

Sometimes, not so much anymore, it would turn out that I would give a wip doc a name just so I’d know what it was, sometimes as a joke with whoever was reading it and cheerleading while I wrote it, and then I would refer to it by that and think of it as that so much that when it came time to actually give the fic a title, it was too late and I could not think past that stupid file name, and that’s how Potter’s Insatiable Cock happened, and how I very nearly called a Merthur fic Arthur’s Wanking Tower (saved that one at the last moment thank god cos the tone of that fic is actually really serious and emotional and wtf was I even thinking with that file name and actually I linked to that fic above XD it ended up being called Unburdened). 

Potter’s Insatiable Cock slipped through cos it’s actually relevant to the fic content and I could live with it.

But needless to say, I don’t give my wip docs joke names anymore XD

Do You Outline: 

Only if I never want to actually write the idea...once I outline, it’s over. I can’t write to a detailed plan. It stifles me. I’ll always get stuck having to try and think ahead to the plan, and then I lose the flow and nothing works because I’m a pantser/intuitive/instinctive writer not a planner. Sometimes I jot down ideas but in like, the vaguest of ways, usually more focused on emotional development than actual scenes or events or anything because then I won’t be able to write it (and I rarely stick to those vague ideas anyway). 

I can really only write when I’m staring down a blank doc with no idea where it’s going and discover it as I go (which is why writing is so fun for me). I can only finish a fic if I don’t think too hard about what’s going to happen next and just let it happen as I write. 

This of course means that editing is a fucking bitch when I finish anything, beginnings often get totally re-written, but if I plan, it just doesn't happen at all, so I’ll take the extra editing if it means I manage to write something.

I do have a lot of detailed plotty fic idea outlines...and I mourn them cos I’m never going to write them now, but they’re so goooooooooood XD

Complete: 

Online (across all 3 accounts): 381 (incl. my hidden drarry fics as they are technically online just hidden, not incl. individual oneshots/drabbles in collection ‘fics’, of which there are ridiculously many). Offline: 20 (I have the worst habit of just sitting on completed fics and I really need to stop)

In-Progress: 

Too many to name, last time I counted it was ~60 but that wasn’t even including my vld wips so...I don’t actually know. I hoard wips and just switch up what I work on all the time depending on mood/interest levels/effort required. 

Current main focuses are a 50k+ plotty Drarry (*fingerscrossed* cos this is my first time seriously attempting something long (will probably reach 80k at least) in a very long time and I put it down for a few months and thought that was it but then I picked it up again recently, yay!), and re-writing some hidden fics I can’t put them back up in the quality they’re in, I just can’t guys, they’re awful.

I’ve been thinking a lot about working on the longish 8th year Pansmione fic I started for the wlw big bang before I had to pull out of cos stupid life stuff. I might pick that up again for a bit too, couldn’t be more different from the Drarry one so it’d make a nice focus break =)

Coming Soon/Not Yet Started: 

I don’t even plan fics I’m writing, I sure don’t plan ahead to stuff I haven’t even started XD The only think I can think of for this category would be me re-writing my hidden long Drarry fics.

Oh, and there will be a Merthur oneshot coming (hopefully) soon, because @april-thelightfury115​ won my custom fic giveaway with a merthur idea. Just waiting for my brain to cooperate so I can start that and not suck XD but I’m so fucking excited to write some Merthur again, you have no idea.

Oh, and lots more Sapphic September drabbles coming too, I’m way behind and only just posted day 11 cos this month is literal hell for me, but I am still planning on finishing the prompt list, no matter how long it takes, but no plan for those, not even which ships, I just sit down with the next prompt and a blank doc and see what happens.

Do You Accept Prompts: 

Yes, I love writing to prompts, I’m take them via google form here, but I’m in such a bad space with my health I’ve been really struggling with writing lately, managed to do a bit of editing (fuck knows how), but writing new stuff is so hard, so there’s a long wait while I wait for my fibro fog to ease off to the point I can write new stuff with more regularity (and less stupid errors I have to edit out later).

Upcoming Story You Are Most Excited to Write: 

Again, I so don’t plan. But I really want to be making more progress on the long plotty drarry wip I’m trying to write. I’m still not sure I’ll have the guts to post it even if I do finish it, given its subject matter (it would make a great careers or consent fest fic tbh), but damn I’m really excited by it. Not sure I can maintain it being plotty and not revert to focusing on the relationship (which is easier for me), but I can only try and see what happens. (trying to write a non-relationship plot without planning is a nightmare but I don’t have a choice if I want to write it at all XD)

I’m also now excited for my longish pansmione wip too actually, just because it’s already longer than my Dreville long-ish fic and it’s exciting and scary to do longer rarepair stuff. I’m way out of my comfort zone with the fic itself, but I dunno, I re-read some recently and fell in love with it all over again, like, flustered lesbian-awakening, disaster for Pansy (but sure she still hates her) Hermione? YES PLEASE! and also, I am guilty of not writing female characters as much as I should because, well, canonically, they don’t have much depth and I’m very meh about them, but in this there’s a huge focus on them because they’re all determined to band together for 8th year and Hermione is making friends with them (Parvati is like, dragging her along all the time XD) where she once dismissed them so it’s scary but exciting =D I’m getting more practice with all the sapphic I do over on knowyourincantations, so I feel more confident working on this wip now =D

I’m also kind of excited about re-writing my old long fics, because they’re all 3 years old now, and my writing tastes (and skill, yikes) have totally changed, so it’s like I’m writing the story again but how I would write it now while maintaining the overall same plot, so it’s really interesting, like discovering the story all over again. Like in one (Making Malfoy Blush) I’ve gone as far as introducing a new side character to replace another’s parts because I no longer feel those parts are in character for them. It’s super terrifying, but it’s fun at the same time =) it’ll take me forever to do these though, so I dunno about ‘upcoming’ really, I only chip away every now and then when I’m unable to write new stuff but am still coherent enough to do something.

Eh, it is what it is, I can’t write like I used to, hence me being inactive more than active these days, but I’m trying to work within my new limitations instead of getting frustrated with them and just giving up entirely =)

---

Now, who to tag....I think anyone I would tag has already done it, and if not..I blame the fog if I’m forgetting someone obvious, if you wanna do it just say I tagged you so I can be nosy and take a look =)

Again, please do not reblog this post

[ladydragonhawke]

The Lesser of Two Evils

Season 15 fanfic starting exactly at the ending of Season 14.

For anyone who would like to have an easier reading experience here’s the link to the story

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20647562/chapters/49157945

SPOILERS FOR SEASON 14

CHAPTER 3/? WIP

Summary: Cas has an itch that needs scratching, but to do so requires the help of someone he would rather not involve.

Chapter 3: Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door

In the war room alarms were sounding loudly again as the lights on the walls and table blinked frantically.

“Um, what does that mean?” Claire asked gesturing to the light show that was happening.

Sam was already on top of the computer and the readouts it was giving, while Dean searched for the off switch. Two headaches in two days is just too much at this point. After finding the correct group of switches Dean flicked them on and off, thereby shutting off the alarms. Alex ran past him to what he assumed was to check on the patient. Dean sauntered to the side of Sam as he tried to make out just what the computer was freaking out about.

“According to this, there was a massive celestial event that just happened. Let me compare it to the readouts from earlier.” Sam grabbed the pile of printouts that were near him on the desk, good thing he didn’t throw them away yet. Dean started up the stairs leading out of the front door.

“Hey! Be careful! I can’t make out what happened yet!” called Sam as he was torn between going with his brother or trying to make sense of all the numbers and degrees printed on either paper. Without even a moment passing by Dean came running back into the main room like a kid at Christmas.

“THE SUN IS BACK!” Dean shouted at the top of his lungs. Sam dropped the papers and ran up the stairs behind Castiel and Jack who were already halfway up themselves. Everyone filed out of the door in front of the Bunker to look up at the sun. Castiel glanced at his watch then back up as if tracking its accuracy. The rotation of the Earth was back to normal as well.

“Why would he do that?” pondered Dean, “Why would he bring it back?”

“So soon too?” Sam added.

“I have no idea. Let’s just be glad it is back, for now.” Castiel grumbled as he turned to return into the Bunker. One by one everyone filed back into the Bunker leaving only the older gentleman, the young clerk from the gas station, Sam, and Dean.

“Do you think it’s safe to go back?” asked the older man.

“Not sure, but you’re welcome to stay if you like. You and?” Sam gestured toward the young lady to reveal her name.

“Sarah. Sorry, it has been kinda hectic, what with God and all.” She stared at the ground realizing the ridiculousness of what she’s saying, and how it sounds.

“I have a grandchild I need to check on. Can’t leave him to this mess. He has his father, but he ain’t worth more than two pennies to rub together.” The old man grumbled.

“I need to get back too, I’m worried about my brother Ben. Our dad was in the Marines and I’m sure the ‘fort’ held but…” she trailed off in thought as she looked out toward the main road.

“Well, we’ll give you some supplies and a car you guys can have to get back to town. If you run into any trouble with those zombies, run. Don’t fight them.” Sam made it a point to look directly into each of their eyes to further drive the point home.

“Trust me, after what happened earlier, we won’t. Fight I mean.” Sarah corrected. She was justifiably nervous, but Sam was hoping with a bit of light instruction and some quick pointers she should be ok. He hoped. He guided them back inside leaving Dean outside thinking to himself just what in the hell happened. He couldn’t quite get over how in one minute the sun was completely gone, and within a few hours it was back again as if nothing had happened. “What is Chuck planning?” After about ten minutes or so to think to himself, he decided to worry about it later, right now he wanted to pop in on the invalid and see where she was at for recovery. She seemed like the fighting type; Dean liked those with a bit of backbone.

As Dean shut the door behind him, he could hear a crackling noise coming from the war room and as he looked out over the bannister Rowena popped into view holding onto quite a few of her precious tomes. It seemed she had escaped quite a kerfuffle wherever she blew in from.

“Rowena, how’s tricks?” Dean asked with a slight smile. He liked ruffling her feathers when he could. She turned to give him a sneer but thought it best to fake a smile as she set down her tomes onto the center table.

“I was…” she gasped as she laid down her largest tomes with a thud, “Bombarded at my flat!” She exhaled forcefully as another wrapped stack thudded onto the table, leaving a small bundle under her arm as what was left. “Did anybody bother to warn me the dead were rising from their grave?” She set the smaller bundle on top of the larger set as she flopped into the nearest chair, looking exhausted. “Not to mention the sun disappearing, and then reappearing before our very eyes?” She raised her hand to shake a boney finger at Dean, “Please don’t tell me you boys are the cause of all this?” Just then Sam walked into the room seeing Rowena pointing a long finger at Dean.

“Hey Rowena, didn’t hear you come in.” Sam stuttered.

“Aye Sam, nice to see you too. Now will someone please tell me what is bloody going on?” She looked back and forth between Sam and Dean. Dean coughed and tapped Sam on the shoulder. “I’ll leave her to you, I’mma go check on our wounded.”

“Right.” Sam scoffed.

Dean escaped from the room as quickly as he could, he did NOT want to receive the foul words she was bound to spew when she heard it pretty much was all them. Kinda, sorta, not really, honestly if Chuck planned on it going this way was it really their decision? He shook his head to rid himself of going down that rabbit hole. That was one hole he didn’t like exploring. He entered the infirmary to find Alex using a stethoscope to try to find a heartbeat.

“Whoa, whoa. Did she die?” Dean stopped halfway between her and the door waiting for an answer.

“No, her heartbeat is just so…. faint.” She removed the pieces from her ears and returned the stethoscope to dangle around her neck. “Frankly there’s not much else I can do for her. She’s got another blood bag and a few more saline and the wound should be better soon. But it’s like…” she paused not quite sure if she wants to say it out loud.

“Like what?” Dean inquired giving the stranger a look over. She was pale and seemed at ease in her sleep.

“Like… she’s in a coma.” Alex whispered.

“How long do you think?” Dean asked taking a seat on the bed next to the patient.

“Not up to me. I don’t think it would hurt to have Cas or maybe Jack…” she stopped at the sight of Dean giving her a hard look of no, “or not Jack.”

“Rowena is here, maybe we could have her give her a once over.” Dean proposed.

“Sounds good to me. Well, I’m going to have a long shower, care to watch her for a bit? If she wakes up just come get me, ok? Not that I think she’s going to wake up right now but…” She sighed, “you never know.”

“Roger that. Enjoy your shower.” Dean took out his phone to find one of the many games he had installed on it, the internet and phone services may be down but that wasn’t going to stop him from distracting himself from his thoughts. He pulled up one of the many iterations of Candy Crush and began his latest level. He didn’t get too far till he heard light heels tapping on the floor toward him. He turned to find Rowena walking slowly toward him, eyeing both him and the unconscious lady in the bed in front of him.

“So, this is her. The odd woman.” Rowena straightened as the reached the foot of the bed of the woman in question.

“Yep.” Affirmed Dean as he tucked his phone back into his back pocket. He’ll finish that level later.

“Sam mentioned what might’ov happened to her. I suppose you boys think I should give it a go?” she looked at Dean for confirmation.

“Alex did mention, before she took off to take a shower, that it seems like she may be in a coma.” Dean recited, albeit a bit haphazardly.

“I’ll start with scrying then. Get the general idea of what’s going on.” Rowena rubbed her hands together as if to warm them up, then when she felt she had sufficiently raised her awareness she floated her hands above the strangers’ body starting at the feet. Dean had watched her preform this action a few times with Jack in place of the invalid. Dean didn’t want to think about that, so he focused on the slight humming sounds and slight twinges of movement from Rowena. Her humming started out calm and collected then as she neared the head, she sounded a bit frazzled and the notes sounded off-key.

“What’s up?” Dean wondering just what was with the odd humming.

“Well, I’m not quite…” she slowly breathed out as she searched a bit deeper “sure dear. Usually I can find a persons’ soul or being rather quickly, but…” she moved her hands to hover over the strangers’ heart, “it’s almost like I’m at the door knocking to be let in but, no one is answering.”

“So, she has no soul?” Dean questioned, confused with her analogy.

“Oh, she has one dear it’s there, but it’s just completely blocked off for some reason.” She moved her hands back down to her feet to finish the ritual. “Like she doesn’t want anyone poking their nose where she won’t want.” She held her hands in each other as she gave the girl another once over with her eyes. “The only thing I can do is give her a healing spell for the wound. I could try a waking spell, but I fear the after-effects may upset her more.” She looked at Dean who didn’t seem too pleased at the sound of that and he sighed as he rose to his feet.

“Well do what you can. Make sure if she wakes up to let Alex know. I’ll go tell her you’re on top of it. See if she needs a nap or somethin’.” Dean patted Rowenas’ shoulder lightly and walked out of the infirmary through the other door.

Rowena sighed as she looked at the strangers’ face that was starting to show some color. “Now it’s just us girls.” She sat on the bed next to the stranger as she prepared herself to preform a healing spell that rose in intensity as long as the caster was willing to pour as much energy as they wanted. She breathed deeply for a few minutes to quell any insecurities she may be harboring. The issue that this woman was able to completely block her from even getting a general feel of who this person is, was more than aggravating to say the least. This just made her more interesting to Rowena, like a rubix cube that looked nearly complete but with only one square out of place. The solution would be roughly simple, but it would take some time. Rowena extended her hands outward from her body hovering just a few inches above the area where the wound was. She could see it in her minds eye, the rough stitch work that was holding quite a few flaps of skin onto each other. The small holes that couldn’t quite be stitched due to the lack of skin in those particular areas. She probed a little deeper, the muscles in her entire lower side were a complete mess, a large chunk was missing entirely and some of the sinew was connected to nothing. She pushed deeper, but for some reason she couldn’t, as if the body was rejecting her, forcing her to return to the muscles. She took a deep breath and delved against the force of whatever was barring her. Without too much pressure she was finally able to see some of the damaged organs; a kidney was nearly on its last legs, a badly bruised hip bone, and large chunk of her colon was missing, but other than that she couldn’t see too much else.

“There, was that so hard?” She sighed content with herself and her abilities. She still couldn’t figure out how or why this persons’ being was fighting against her so much. She added that to the list of questions she intended to ask her when she awoke. Starting from the kidney she began the healing process; it didn’t take too long to get it into acceptable standards. When she returned to the muscles to try to mend them back to their original places, she could feel a slight pull on her shoulder. She opened her eyes to find a young black-haired woman standing next to her.

“Alex, I presume?” Asked Rowena, never fully dropping her healing spell. The distraction could hinder it, but she was more than capable.

“Guilty as charged. How’s she doing?” Alex asked while pulling up a chair to the end of the bed.

“She’s… interesting.” Rowena teased.

“I’ll say. Any other person with wounds like this would’ve died from the blood loss alone.”

“It’s odd…” Rowena started, pausing as she mended the majority of muscles leaving some of the other ones to heal by themselves. “I’ve never had to fight this hard to heal a person.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…” She slowly tapered off the healing aura thinking this was enough for the moment. “when I try to do anything, I get forced back. Under normal circumstances this is an entirely somewhat easy process.”

“But she’s not normal.” Alex gave her a knowing look, as if someone finally realized something she’s known for a while now.

“Quite.”

Rowena looked at the strange woman in wonder, she’ll have so many questions for her. As night fell everyone was exhausted from what a nightmare of a day they all equally shared. Alex resigned to let Rowena babysit the comatose stranger while she went and got some shuteye. Claire, Donna, and Jody all went into their respective rooms and crashed. Dean and Sam were left alone with Castiel and Jack in the main room continuously trying to get any news from the outside. Castiel was trying in vain to reach anyone in heaven, but it was as if no one was left to answer him. He was beginning to feel extremely uneasy; he knew if there were no angels left to keep heaven functional, the souls would be lost. He looked at Sam and Dean as they were trying to get the router working for the fifth time to see if they could get any internet. He needed to check on things, but he didn’t want to leave Sam, Dean, and Jack. He took a deep breath as he steeled himself for the inevitable pushback he was going to have.

“Guys, I need to go to heaven.”

Dean dropped what he was doing and spun around to face Cas with a mixed look of confusion and annoyance. “Um, what?”

“Look, I still can’t get anything from anyone up there, if there aren’t any angels in heaven, we won’t have just the souls that broke out of hell to deal with.” Castiel sped through every word knowing if he didn’t get it out it would never get a chance to again.

“Right, did you forget about the massive hoards of undead that are out there?! Not to mention the demons from Hell that are loose all over the frickin’ world! You’ll get torn to shreds!” Dean half-shouted, having to stop himself realizing people are trying to sleep.

“I realize that, but this is something I can’t just leave alone. Not when…” He paused looking to Sam for some kind of backup. “not when I can do something about it.”

“I’ll go with you.” Jack interjected, jumping out of the chair he was lounging in.

“No. Out of the question.” Castiel stopped him with an outstretched arm.

“I can help! I know where the door is.” Jack was beginning to get justifiably frustrated. He couldn’t stand being treated like a child. “I can fly us there and back.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea.” Pipped up Sam. Dean did a double-take and gave him a look of shock then disgust.

“We still don’t know if he’s even capable of doing all that. He was dead today, not like that stops us much anyway, but still. I say no, it’s too soon.” Dean folded his arms onto his chest. “We’ll come up with something else.” Sam knew this was his usual signal that he wouldn’t budge, but Sam knew if anyone could change Deans’ mind it was him.

“Dean, he’s already shown that he can use his powers without injuring himself. He healed me and blasted all those walkers when we picked up the girls.” Sam knew the implications of what could happen if they left the bunker, but he had faith in Jack and Cas. He knew if things went south in any way, they would fight like mad to get out and back to them. “They could just fly to the door and if things look sour, they’ll just fly back.” He looked Castiel in the eyes as if saying this to him as an order, of which Castiel and Jack both acknowledged.

Dean keeping is arms crossed and his head held high was trying not to show outwardly that he was actually considering this half-baked plan. But they’ve done more with less. And as much as he hated the idea of Castiel and Jack leaving his side so soon he was very concerned about the souls in heaven, including Mary and John. He mulled it around in his head and gave a look to Sam that meant, I’m weighing my options here.

“Fine, but if things look bad. At all. You come right back. Got it?” Dean pointed a finger at Jack that was between anger and love. He wouldn’t dare admit the ladder at the moment.

“Yes sir.” Jack replied, trying to hide a smile at finally being allowed to do something. He and Castiel stepped back from the center table and gave Sam and Dean one last look before disappearing.

“If he so much as gets a papercut I’m…” Dean started but didn’t dare finish, the thought of him being hurt at all was a thought he’d rather not address.

“I know, me too. Let’s get some rest huh?” Sam gave Dean a comforting pat on his shoulder to break him away from his thoughts.

“Sounds good.” Dean grunted as they both made their way to their respective rooms. Leaving the main room silent besides the few blips and beeps from the computers still running and collecting data.

 Castiel and Jack jerked into reality in front of the sandbox that masqueraded as the door to heaven. The evening sky was dark, nearly devoid of stars either due to the light pollution, or the fact it was The End. Castiel did a quick sweep of any and all possible life forms in the area that could interfere with entering into Heaven. It seemed odd, there weren’t any undead or demons that he could sense. “Are they being deterred by the door of Heaven?” Thought Castiel as he stepped toward the sandbox. The hidden runes in the sand lit up, leaking an inviting glow into the air around them. Jack was just as confused about the lack of evil dead in the area and decided to try his own search, which came up fruitless, yet there was this nagging feeling that something was off.

“Come on Jack, let’s make this as quick as possible.” Castiel held out his hand inviting Jack to join him in the sandbox, only they weren’t going to be building sandcastles.

Within a flash they were sent up into the winding hallways of Heaven. Immediately things seemed bleak. The lights were flickering on and off frantically leaving hardly a second of light to be shown. The hallways themselves seemed like some beast comprised of dark smoke writhed against the walls. Fearing the worst Castiel ran to the throne room, with a confused Jack in tow. Upon entering the room, he found Naomi sitting in one of the chairs next to Chucks’, her head in her hands but seemingly alright.

“Naomi, what happened here?” Castiel asked knowing his presence wasn’t exactly welcomed still within Heavens’ circle. He kept his distance to the doorway.

“It came to deliver a message.” Naomi muttered, not raising her head.

“What came?” Jack asked.

“The Shadow.” Her head slowly raised to look at Jack with a face bursting with a whirlwind of emotions. Anger, fear, hate, love, there wasn’t one you could pinpoint but it pained Castiel to see her in this way.

“It wanted me to deliver a message to you two.” She rasped holding everything within her to not lash out at the two of them.

“What was the message?” Jack asked. Castiel already feared he knew the answer but there was something else driving this emotion she was carrying, and he was afraid to dig any deeper.

“This. Changes. Nothing. Not even THE END.”

The room fell eerily silent, Castiel swallowed the lump in his throat. He already figured that, but what drove The Shadow to deem ravaging Heaven as a necessity? Was it because it is The End?

“Where is everyone?” Castiel finally broke the static that was starting to grate on his ears.

 “Dead.”

 “How?!” His hands balled into fists… All my fault.

“Did you not see the hallways? How do you think?!” She choked back a sob.

  I let this happen, how could I let this happen?

  “It’s over.” She returned her face into the palms of her hands. “Heaven is done.”

“I could make…” Jack was interrupted with a terse glance from Naomi.

“It wouldn’t be enough.” She hissed.

Mustering up all the courage he could Castiel took a step and knelt in front of Naomi, and softly placed a hand on her shoulder. She didn’t flinch or shy away, what would be the point?

“In the few years that I’ve been able to spend living with the humans, and the family I gained from joining them. I wouldn’t trade it for anything in existence. You are family to me as well, always have been and always will be. And with my family on earth there’s something one of them said when things were at their bleakest, when the sky was raining down and we felt all hope was lost.” Naomi raised her head to look into Castiels’ caring eyes, she was so tired and should hate him with every fiber of her being. He was the one who left. Yet in this moment she didn’t feel hate, or fear, or loss. She felt broken and numb as if everything inside her wanted to give up and let the pieces of her scatter into nothing.

There’s a tradition with Japanese pottery that has been handed down for generations. When a teapot or cup is broken, rather than throwing it away and purchasing or making a new one, they affix it back together. They use a method called Kintsugi otherwise called “golden joinery.” This technique employs a special tree sap lacquer dusted with powdered gold, silver, or platinum. Once completed, beautiful seams of gold glint in the exposed cracks of ceramic, giving a one-of-a-kind appearance to each “repaired” piece. This unique method celebrates each artifact’s unique history by emphasizing its fractures and breaks instead of hiding or disguising them. In fact, Kintsugi often makes the repaired piece even more beautiful than the original, revitalizing it with a new look and giving it a second life.

“Keep grinding. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how hard it gets, you gotta keep grinding. And that’s how we’re gonna win.” Castiel took her hand in his and helped raise her to her feet. “We keep fighting, together.” They weren’t quite the perfect words he was aiming for, but a dear friend… no, a family member had said it, it quelled his dark thoughts in his time of need. He hoped it had done the same for Naomi.

As Naomi stood slowly taking in the words Castiel said while gripping his hand tight, a little piece of her that she thought she had lost in the chaos seemed to reappear. A sense of duty, no… it was rather a sense of longing, for what she wasn’t sure. To make things right again? To get the angels back somehow? To get Heaven in working order again?

“What do I do?” She asked still unsure if she was even allowed to ask such a question.

“What’s the first thing that needs to be done here in order to keep the souls of Heaven from falling back to Earth?” Castiel inquired.

She looked at him in confusion, he knew the state of it all and what was to happen next. Why bother asking a question that he already knew the answer to?

  Wait!

   “Come with me.” She stood up straighter. Her vessel was an utter mess, but she couldn’t bother to give it a thought now. This task was more important. Hell was already loose upon the Earth, measures needed to be taken to ensure the souls of Heaven weren’t lain waste to the beasts from below. There was only one option left and there was only one being capable but the only way to find said being was through a rather large magnifying glass, one only God or his angels could access. “It’s a long shot, but if anyone can do it, it’s these two. I’ll assist in anyway I can, even if I have to…” She led them winding down multiple endless hallways, Jack was doing everything in trying to keep up with them. Then without warning the hallway suddenly opened up into a massively expansive stark white room, it had no windows or doors, but judging by the minimal shadows that their vessels gave off one could tell the walls were not 90-degree angles. The floor slopped downward toward the center where it flattened out making it easier to stand. It was as if they were inside a dewdrop.

Naomi turned to face the two boys as they were getting their bearings.

“I haven’t seen this room since…” Castiel started, “But why are we here? This is just the Observatory. And if I recall correctly this room requires a massive amount of energy to function. The last time it was on was…”

“Just after creation. When God disappeared.” Naomi finished. “I’m well aware.” She paused knowing what needed to be done next. “Stand there Castiel, Jack I may need your assistance.”

“Wait!” Castiel raised an arm to stop Jack. “First you have to tell me why. And another thing, I will not allow him to die for this.”

“He won’t Castiel, you have my word.” She reached a hand toward Jack giving him a loving smile. “Castiel your job will be to find Amara.”

“What!?” He shouted, “How will that even be possible? We couldn’t even find Chuck with this, and you believe it will find Amara?”

“I have faith.” She smiled, still extending her arm as she patiently waited for Jack to be released from his fathers’ grip.

Slowly Castiel released his grip on Jack, but not before pulling him into a fast embrace.

“No matter what happens, do NOT use your soul. Do you understand me?” Castiel pleaded fighting the urge to pull himself and Jack and run back to the Bunker.

“I won’t. I promise.” Jack said shakily, the shock from the sudden embrace raising his apprehension as to what will happen next.

Castiel released Jack lingering one hand on his shoulder until Jack left it entirely, taking the hand of Naomi who was still smiling brightly. Together she led him toward the opposite wall and placed a hand on a hidden pad. A door-shaped portion of the wall instantly evaporated away, she led Jack into the small room with her. It was a touch cramped but it soon expanded after realizing there was more than one being inside it. With a click two white rods appeared on opposite walls that jutted out horizontally.

“What are these?” Jack looked on them with amazement, but he wasn’t sure if he should touch it.

“They’re power cores. It takes one or two beings with a rather large amount of power to call the Observatory to function.” She informed while touching hidden buttons on her side of the wall that remained unseen to Jack. “God doesn’t even need the use of this room; it was made specifically for us. But only Archangels alone, or ten angels could offer enough power to use it.” She turned to face him as she finished pushing a few buttons. He was looking at the wall that separated them and Castiel. With one button push she made the wall sheer, so they could see him, and him them.

“Are you ready Castiel?” She spoke softly, Jack was wondering if Cas could even hear...

“Yes.” He replied quickly.

“You have her in your frame of mind? Her sense of presence?” She clarified.

“Yes.” He replied flatly, looking at Jack at first with concern but broke it with the sense of duty that needed to be done.

“Then let us begin.” Naomi raised a hand above her power core, turning to look at Jack. “When I say three, we both touch the cores at the same time. This device runs on grace, spend it sparingly, don’t let it pull you in. If you are pulled in, I won’t be able to help you and you will die. Do you understand?” She gazed into his eyes looking for a sign of understanding.

“I understand. Don’t let it pull me in. But what about you?” Jacks’ face changed from readiness to concern.

“Don’t worry, this isn’t my first time.” She winked.

Jack smiled at her content with the answer.

“He’s a Nephilim so his amount of grace surpasses even Archangels, but I can’t let him use the amount they do. Even Michael was a mess after one go on this for only two minutes. I don’t know how long it will take to accurately find her…”

“One…”

“But I have faith in them.”

“Two…”

“All of them.”

“Three!”

[jujywrites]

WIP Challenge

I got tagged by @kikithedeceiver to do this!

Challenge: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous.

Here’s the thing. I don’t have many separate WIP files; most of them are in one huge doc. and most of the separate wip files are... pretty dead? but ok whatevs. under a read more since it’s long...... and my ego won’t let me skip snippets hjkhkhk thanks for the idea Kiki

From my main miscellaneous folder:

50 Grades of Steele. 1 and a half chaps of a role-flipped 50 Shades of Grey rewrite (i haven’t read the books so I extra don’t care about the characters lol). why do i still have it i’ve lost interest.... *side eyes her entire wip ecosystem* ...Then I see my interview subject, seated at her desk.

"Mr. Grey. I'm pleased to meet you."

And I stop breathing. [end CH1]

[open CH2) I forgot to mention something: I exaggerate occasionally. But I'm not now. I literally stop breathing for a few seconds. A thousand thoughts are racing through my mind, which doesn't help my chest stop seizing, but the main problem here is that Anastasia Steele is quite possibly the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

Fanfic idea masterlist. my most active file and where I keep most of my WIPS, unless they get too “large”. Organized by fandom. lotta stuff i keep passing by & may as well be dead but don’t wanna delete. here’s a zero-draft snippet of probably the next chapter of my G-rated yukyoru fic collection

He grabbed a pillow and placed it to his chest, grabbed her arm, and yanked her to him, praying his idea would work.

Seconds passed and he didn't transform. He put his arms around her gingerly. Should he try to immobilize her or would that make it worse?

She made the decision for him. "Mom," she sobbed, clutching him with an iron grip. "N-Need to help...!"

His stomach dropped to his shoes.

Thudding footsteps announced Yuki's arrival. "What's wrong?! Honda-san--"

He didn't say "What did you do?" The thought raced by and Kyo said, "Grab a pillow and help me!"

As Yuki positioned the pillow and himself without having to ask, Kyo said, "She won't wake up. I don't know what to do!"

"Night terror," Yuki said tightly. He was too close but it almost didn't matter. "Not much you can do besides wait."

MayxWard BDSM fic agents of SHIELD. mix of notes and actual writing. kind of a half AU. Melinda climbed into the driver's side and buckled in, then started up the car. "If you've not ridden on the left before you might have motion sickness. It's normal. Just close your eyes until—" She paused as she looked at him; his hands shook so much he couldn't manage the seatbelt. "Here, let me."

"Thanks," he muttered with a sigh, looking rueful.

Modern AU Zelink. What it says on the tin~ Teenage-ish Zelink, with a mash of supporting characters from other games. another mix of notes and fic. Link wasn't sleeping tonight. Tonight was the night he'd been planning for and awaiting for weeks. He was going on a quest: the quest to meet Princess Zelda. 

She wasn't really a princess, of course. That was just her nickname. Zelda Nohansen was Hyrule's sweetheart, the most sought-after young actress in the movie business. And Link had fallen in love with her the first time he'd seen her, two years ago in a tiny theater in Kakariko.

PMMMfic homumado. Madoka Magica. AU, been around since about an hour after I finished the series (5 years yikes, still gotta watch Rebellion). Homura's time power still somewhat involved, but Mami's an adult, everyone's at a boarding school (I think?) where ~things aren't as they first seem~ and Madoka has mysterious powers and night terrors. just notes at the moment.

SoubixHitomi.  Loveless. 3 unfinished/dead first-person Shinonome-senseixSoubi snippets, all of ‘em spicy.

yvy abo. Yuri On Ice. Yuri (Katsuki!!)/Victor/Yuko(!!?!), my attempt at. well. omegaverse(!!!!!!!). orignally started as part of a “bad YOI fic” bigbang and now I’m taking it seriously dgdgfg. Alpha Yuko. “Please, please stop,” she whispered, like saying it aloud would make any difference. But the pressure in her head kept building. Her limbs had begun to itch restlessly.

And Victor wouldn’t let go of her hand.

With the last scrap of her control, she straddled him quickly and kissed him awake.

Even in half-sleep he arched to meet her, and when he opened his eyes sapphire blue had already turned stormy with lust.

yvy canonfuturefic. Yuko-focused following of canon, or: how canon can I keep YOI while still rareship OT3ing it. She and Yuri fall in and out of love, in between falling for Victor. Victuri is still my life I swear   

“You have got to watch this,” she tells Yuri. She watches Yuri’s face instead of the video, having seen it at least forty times by now.

Yuri’s eyes transform into beacons of awe, and Yuko swallows around her rapid heartbeat, breaths coming too short. She sees everything she’s feeling and more on his face. She remembers that she loves him, that he’s real and here and more important than the beautiful boy on her phone who’s trying to pull her under to a scary new world.

ZnT ot3 bdsm AU. Zankyou no Terror, 9/12/Lisa. mix of notes and fic, not just PWP. in heavy need of editing bc a lot was inspired by a non-spicy book.

“But it’s not just me. It’s everyone. You need everyone because you have no idea how to need yourself. Or even how to be yourself.”

“You’re wrong.” The force and volume of her voice shocked her and pushed her onward. “You and Touji. I don’t need anyone except you and Touji! Because you both taught me how to be myself-- no, how to find that on my own. I know exactly who I am, and that me isn’t complete without both of you!” She could feel the tears streaming down her face, yet somehow her voice didn’t waver. She felt so full of conviction she could burst into flames. “Don’t you understand, Arata? We’re all meant to be together.”

From my SnK folder:

Cave of the Crystal Maiden (working title). Aruani. Modern AU. MMORPG shenanigans with a dollop of magical realism/supernatural. Just notes. @portraitofa-girl suggested “meeting online” and it’s been there literally for years oh lord im sorry. no fic yet, just notes.

Falling Anthem (working title) Modern AU Levihan, art student Hange and young professor Levi. just notes. fic one in a planned series. also has been years ;_;

Raindrops and Soft Steps. Jearmin. unsurprisingly, modern AU. One morning, when Jean looks out of his bedroom window, he sees a boy dancing across the street. In the street, to be exact. There wouldn't be anything unusual about that, Jean supposes, except it's raining cats and dogs outside.

In my IAMXfic folder (fff i almost skipped this):

2ndPOVCalberto (DO NOT CORRUPT WITH HET) ChrisxAlberto? not much to say?? yes i know they’re real people??? which applies to everything after this oh my god *crawls under desk* Of course she knows; she is annoyingly perceptive when it comes to romance. The only thing preventing you from asking her (like a fucking lovestruck teenager) if Alberto likes you back is emptying that beer bottle. By then the only thing on your mind is ordering another.

CalbertImmi. i can’t even keep my poly shit outta RPF ahaha omhg Imogen has a conversation with her lover's lover. (AlbertImmi, sequel to...) Imogen finds herself in an unenviable position. (emerging CalbertImmi)

Alternate summaries (CC POV, first fic?): Chris loves two people. He doesn't want to choose. Chris has fallen in love a few times in his life. But he's never fallen for two people at once. (Chris also isn't good at choosing.)

ChrisxJ. several self-insert fics bc CC is just that powerful, apparently. haven’t looked at the file in a long time,,,,,

He started calling people to the stage with him, and one by one, my row emptied.

"Come on, yeah, come on," he was saying, waving his hand in an inviting gesture and grinning like a little kid. "Hey, you want to?" I did a double take.

"Me?" I mouthed, pointing at myself just to be sure. He nodded, smiling wider.

So it was that I walked unsteadily down the ramp and waited in line, feeling like I didn’t belong there. Soon I was next in line. What would I say? What would I do? I was sure if I opened my mouth I’d either burst into tears or faint.

Genderswapped IAMX sci-fi. The sci-fi was inspired by a word prompt, genderswapping by my own brain. (play spot the Immi lmao) Across the aisle, Sam rolled his eyes. “Leave Chris alone; she’s nervous.”

“And put on your own seatbelt, Johann,” shouted Jess, two seats back and in Sam’s aisle.

Patrick turned  to look at Chris. “Subspace travel is a bitch,” he said simply, and turned back to his book.

“Oh, I feel much less nervous now,” Chris said with a sardonic grin. “How do you know that, anyway?”

"I'm not exactly what I seem to be." He didn’t look up.

Chriimmi (While I Was Gone inspired). Chris/Imogen, inspired by scenes from Sue Miller’s While I Was Gone.

"You really ought not to do that, you know," he said softly.

"Do what?"

"Sneak up on me."

My eyes slid from his face. "I didn't mean to. It just... happened."

"Mm." I glanced back at him; he wore a lopsided smile. "Not that I minded." The tension was so strong the air nearly vibrated with it, yet I held my tongue, terrified that I was the only one feeling it. He took a breath, deep, nearly rising on his toes. "No. I didn't mind at all." He took my hand, circled his thumb over the back. My breath caught as I felt it, as I watched him looking down at our hands.

Chriimmi bathtub dream. dream inspired Chris/Immi smut.

Chriimmi twitter. twitfic plus some, inspired from an actual tweet iamx made that i’m still not over. 

@ imogenheap Come sing your lovely lyrics with us in London. @ IAMX misses you. CCx

ChrisxImmi main. grab bag of Chriimmi I was too lazy to put into separate docs.

“What do you think?” She grinned, twirling.

He cleared his throat. “Ah, I-Imogen, what are you wearing?”

“Well, I didn’t want to clash with your theme…  Janine helped me. Does it work?”

Scandalously short skirt, midriff-baring top, knee-high boots.

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you? You’re trying to fucking kill me.”

Her grin only widened, even though a blush had started.

Fic edit chriimmi ver. yeah. editing someone else’s original fic to be chrimmi. either never posting or editing the frick out of. ~_~

He kissed her neck, whispered into it, “I love you.”

Imogen laughed. “Bollocks,” she said lazily.

”I do!” Chris protested. She looked down at him, nestled on her shoulder. He looked back, open, a little adoring. “I fell in love with you halfway through the show; I sang every note just for you.”

”Oh, please. You couldn’t have seen me.”

”No,” he said. “But I knew you were out there… I knew it had been you the minute I saw you backstage.”

Hospital Chriimmi. In which my guilty feeling over RPF are even worse bc of the inspiration ^_^U “Ms. Heap. What a pleasant surprise.” It’s surprising, how well she remembers his voice.

“Mr. Corner, what have you got yourself into?”

“Oh, just a bit of lingering insomnia. You know how it is.”

She takes a seat in the chair near his bed, crossing her legs. “Well, I’ve certainly had a sleepless night here and there, but I’ve never ended up in hospital from it. So no, I don’t suppose I do know.” Her tone is light, but her smile has begun to crack.

ImmixChris genderbend smut. the my secret friend video is... fertile material. have not actually written the smut yet.

...he saw us as characters– we put on those clothes and become separate from ourselves, removed. Whereas I simply felt like myself in men’s clothes, and instead of feeling what He felt for Her, I just kept right on feeling what I felt for Chris, amplified to a distracting level.

ReluctantdommeImmixSubCC. ...shrug emoji? notes and uh. visualizing.

Vampire Chriimmi. based on a dream. smutty. inspired by True Blood so wow that’s old.

From my Markipairings folder:

demon dream. markiplier self insert...... ughhhhhhhh o///o

"You can have me," I tell the creature. "But this one," I jerk my head toward Mark, "comes with me. He's mine, you see." A bold proclamation to make, but in the moment I know that the truth in those words surpasses everything I've ever said. He is mine, and saying the thought out loud fills me with courage. He squeezes my hand, two short and a long one so strong I think he might break it.

I know we’ll win.

DommeJujY. same as above, same as the next four. smutty.

Fight team AU. i forget where i got this one from. vaguely inspired by loveless i guess.  The first clear thought I had was, He shouldn't have gone ahead of me. The second one was, I should have been able to protect him. But these came later, after the rage went away, after I hugged him and apologized, after I bandaged him…

Gaming meetcute. i win some contest or whatever to secretly tagteam w/ Mark. stuff happens and yeah......

The adrenaline surges through my veins as I take in the scene. Mark's avatar is flailing around, backed into a corner by some Eldritch Abomination and holy shit, the graphics in this game are amazing.

"This is not good, I can't move, I can't move…"

There's a voice in the back of my head screaming to shut the game down, to get that horrible thing off the screen. I ignore it.

Markinpanties. .......smut.

shifter-slight sci-fi AU. shrug emoji.

I looked up from the ground and saw I was heading straight for a brick wall. There was no time to slow down. I braced for impact...

It didn't happen. I opened my eyes and found myself in a café.

What.

Looking behind me, I saw a door. On impulse I walked over and opened it; the tree-lined street I could see through the glass was indeed there. No brick wall to smack my face into. Bewildered, I turned around and looked for a seat, choosing one near a window.

Gouldiplier~. master doc of ficbits of my cracky mccrackship, MarkiplierxEllie Goulding.

I check my phone during break time again. My selfie has been liked and retweeted thousands of times, and I shake my head in disbelief; I don't think that will ever stop surprising me, deep down. To make things even better, Mark's liked it! I'm in the middle of a happy jig when I realize there's a text from him and a squeak of joy slips from me.

hellooo gorgeous

looks like you're having fun. Hope the shoot's going great! <3

I quickly send a reply. it has been. Be glad when it's done tho. Missin u lots xo

Markipicbunnies. fanart of Mark for Gouldiplier insipration. photographer au. 

"Ms. Goulding, I'm really not sure about this…"

"I produce pictures that are intimate because I'm an intimate being, Mark." Ellie looked at him directly, a hint of a smile shaping her lips. "Deep down, I think you are too. We just need to draw you out a bit."

showersexgouldiplier. WELP. IT’S SMUT.

Also I have folders for my 2010/11 nanowrimo novel that are kinda still WIPs but also kinda not

i’m gonna tag.... @kippielovesyou @kiridork and @mistergrass and anyone else who wants to do this can too :3

[aharris00britney]

ASKS 09

random stuff, some facts about me, some sims questions, video requests, hair sneak peaks, umm and other stuff too…. also I am 10 candies from being able to evolve that dumb fish so wig

Anonymous said: Do you have a car?

Nope!

Anonymous said: Hi wcif the shirts in your coming soon in June update ps I love your cc x

hey! for any WCIFs for that stuff, I am probably going to wait until the posts for the hairs are up because I know that people won’t check when the hairs are posted for my old wcifs.

@angelamariacalle​ said: you could make a WIP the eyes that you use in your post with ice cream?     

i have no idea what you were trying to say ;-; the eyes I used are my default ones which you can download here

@ayoshi-sims​ said: Once you get this SHARE 6 facts about yourself and send it to your 10 favorite blogs ✨

I still play pokemon go (fight me)

I think that pop music was the best in 2007-2011 (One of the Boys, The Fame/The Fame Monster, Circus/Blackout, Animal/Cannibal, The best damn thing)

I am a super middle child! (two older siblings, and two younger ones as well)

I keep all my kpop albums on my dresser, with my Red Velvet one hanging in a red/white flower crown I own :)

My favorite food to snack on is either a tuna kit, or pickles

I am a bottom XD

Anonymous said: When you get this, please respond with five things that make you happy! Then, send to the last ten people in your notifications anonymously. You never know who might benefit from spreading positivity!

aaaaah okay um

my kpop girlies i stan

my angel rocky (my old af pug)

my friends (irl and online <3)

the concept of love is always something that makes me happy omg i know that is cheesy but like… imagine finding someone that is perfect for you will always be there when you need and like just GOD I NEED A MAN NOW

charli xcx music umm yeah it’s 5 in the morning

Anonymous said: Hello, I was wondering if you have your sims on the gallery? Thanks for your time. :)       

Yeah! I have a few sims for download on my origin which is SPOTHARRIS I also have them for download on this page

Anonymous said: Hello!! Just wondering wicf the freckles from the discontinued model in your older posts (e.g. momo buns) thank you!!! BTW I love your stuff soo much! :)

Hey! I no longer have that file or even know where I got them from :( Here is an OLD af wcif I answered of them though

Anonymous said: Where are you from?

I am from Virginia, which is on the east coast of the United States :)

Anonymous said: Hi!! I feel like this is such a silly question but oh well I’m a noob. If I use your Quartz eyes V2 will they be inherited in the next generation if my sims have kids? Same with your hair colors as well?

I honestly have no idea how any of that stuff works :( I’m sorry! I assume it should but also maybe not? ;-; again, sorry!

Anonymous said: omg the hair with the flowers in it! *-* i love!! will you also make a version without the flowers? I also wanted to say I’m really happy your life is going well and congrats on the 30k followers

thank you so much!! and I the hair will obvi have no flowers :P the flowers should be accessories if everything works out. There are some clipping issues rn but I think it is fixable :) here is a pic without the flowers. If you guys have any recommendations about then pls send them my way

Anonymous said: Would you ever consider doing really long curly hair like the singer Sza’s?

I personally don’t like super long hair in TS4, it just doesn’t look well with most clothes and has clipping/weight issues :( I’m sorry!!

Anonymous said: Do you know what happened to SimpleSimmer?

I don’t, no. But I am sure she is fine :) sometimes people just take breaks

Anonymous said: Hi! So, i really love your sim with the dark brown hair (for your hair cc) and i was wondering if you could ever share that sim! Because she has a beautiful face. Also i am wondering which skin overlay (etc) you are using! You can find me in the gallery under the name: xThisGirl (if that is an easier way for you to respond :)

Hey! You can find her download here, along with all my other sims :) I am glad you like her <3

Anonymous said: Hey! I know you probably won’t read this as fast but I wanted to ask, how do you shift the hairline to the side or any of that? Like your daisy hair, briana hair, and that one wip you had in a tutorial video of yours! I really want to do that but I just don’t know how :(

I will maybe record something for this! No promises bc I have to get someone to edit the videos for me and I don’t wanna bug him but I will see if he can edit it for me if I film it :) It is pretty simple to do once you get the hang of it

@sims4storiesandstuff​ said: I just wanted to say, your hairs are the shit! Absolutely stunning. I rarely use the EA hairs anymore! I think you deserve every follower you have.            

Thank you so much!!! I really appreciate stuff like this <3 I don’t play the game myself much so it makes me happy knowing that my hairs make other peoples games so much more enjoyable uwu

Anonymous said: hello can you make please a video when you make a hair and upload it?

I would like to! I just do so many random things while doing a hair like showing pictures to friends and getting their advice. So I will have to see, would you guys mind if the video had conversation stuff in it? As I said earlier, someone edits the videos for me so I don’t wanna get him to do more work for it by editing them out :( I will look into it for sure though!

Anonymous said: That hair wip in your lil video tutorial is absolutely beautiful!! Can’t wait until it’s released !! 🧡🧡

thank you so much!! Here are some more pics of it:

Anonymous said: are you korean? If not, how can you like kpop if you dont understand it?

I am not korean haha, but music is about more than understanding. It is about the feelings it vibes you get from it and the moods it puts you in. People love screamo music even though it is hard to understand, and music like instrumentals and dubstep heavy are just… what the music makes you feel. I listen to ‘normal’ pop, kpop, instrumentals, artists like grimes that mumble their songs a lot with production heavy stuff. I think that as long as the music is something you enjoy, you shouldn’t be judged for liking it. I know you aren’t trying to be rude with this ask so don’t think I am attacking you please! I am just trying to give you some insight into why different music interests people :)

Anonymous said: I’m so happy to see that you’ve made a patreon account! you really make amazing CC and that’s such a gift to the community, I’m happy that now I get to feel like I can give something to you haha :) have a great day/evening!

thank you so much! and thank you for supporting <3

@lesyatim​ said: Hello,  it’s not ask. I only want to say that you make very beautiful hair and  THANK YOU! I Love You💕💕💕💕💕 P.S. I’m from Russia and I don’t now English very well♡)

thank you so much!! Спасибо большое (that is suppose to say thank you in german lmao)

Anonymous said: When did u make a skin?

it is a hidden gem :P It is mainly to fix the collarbones bc I use multiple skin overlays so I that is why is was never posted :)

Anonymous said: Congratulations i hope you have a happy family 😄

ummm?? I GOT IT I GOT I GOT I GOT IT I GOT IT I GOT IT I GOT IT I GOT IT I GOT IT I GOT IT I GOT IT I GOT IT I GOT IT I GOT IT I GOT IT I GOT IT I GOT IT I GOT IT I GOT IT I GOT IT I GOT IT I GOT IT I GOT IT I GOT IT

@dangerouskindofmind said: I actually don’t have a question! I just wanna say you are one of my favorite sims 4 creators out here. Your hairs; snatched. Your clothes; beautiful. Your sims; amazing. And your personality looks just as good lol. I’ve probably downloaded like 99.9% of your content and I just wanna say thank you for all you do to make my sims 4 experience loads better. I also hope you’re having a great day

thank you so much!!!! I appreciate it a ton, I love that my content makes people love this game more <3

Anonymous said: Just wanted to say that literally all of your CC is beautiful and from what I’ve seen, I absolutely adore your personality. Keep it up my dear, you’ve got crazy talent. Much love <3

thank you, thank you!!! My personality irl is kind of shitty lmao I am really shy and like reserved ;-; and it is just memorizing how to do some editing to hair meshes, not much talent involved <3 thank you so so much again though!! I love getting these kind of messages

Anonymous said: Are you gonna make an outerwear cc pack when the seasons expansion pack releases?

I don’t make much clothing CC so I highly doubt it. I am working on a swimsuit that I might post later this month though! We will see what happens though :D

Anonymous said: thank you very much for a playlist that you shared with One Shot,Two Shot,I’m totally in love ur the best

yesss BoA is such a queen, listen to the full mini album if you can! It is one of her best releases in my opinion.

Anonymous said: aharris00britney awnsered me,cuz I remember my question and it’s on the asks recent post AND i’ll shake this print in all my enemies face thx,I asked about the patreon and I’m doing it right now bby <3            

hehe thank you!! <3 you show them enemies

– just so the eating ass juicy booty ask so yep that is all I have gotten in the past month that I can answer :P

[stylinbreeze60]

My “WIPs”

Thanks @sugaandyams. I don't get tagged too often, so thank you!

“The Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous.”

Oh my goodness. I had stuffed saved in all different places. I’ll start with the folders that contained fics that are incomplete. Welp, here I go!

Great Galactic War - this folder is the dump for my Haikyuu space/war AU, one of three or four fics I may focus on writing in the near future (first chapter is already published); the folder has very little atm, but I have about two dozen different scenes on my phone that aren't saved on PC

Kenma Project - the dump for my actively ongoing Haikyuu next gen captain war AU. I have a file in here further titled Ennoshita chapter. I wonder what that’s about? ;)

Three Kings - the dump for my Haikyuu samurai AU starring Hinata and Noya, the second possible fic I may commit to writing (first 2 chapters already published); there’s a chapter outline (which is dated because I’ve updated it in my head so much), and there are notes and many chapter tidbits on my phone too

Vice - the dump for a canonverse Haikyuu fic that was borne from a desire to write more Nekoma, so I subjected them to debilitating angst. There’s a rough chapter outline in here, and there are a couple of chapter drafts saved as emails on my phone. It’s the third fic that I might commit my time to (first 2 chapters, starring poor Inuoka, already published)

March of Justice - this folder was the dump for my aborted One Piece/My Hero Academia crossover, in which a couple of One Piece villains travel to the BnHA universe to conquer it

And here’s the rest I found. Some of these are just notes on fanciful ideas I had for a day and then never revisited. Others were never intended to see the light of day whatsoever

Abe dake ga Inai Machi - Oofuri-Erased - oh goodness. I had to stare at that title for a while to figure out what was wrong with it. An Oofuri/Big Windup fanfic that I didn’t play with for very long, but I was surprised to find I actually wrote the first chapter. Like Boku Dake ga Inai Machi (Erased), there’s a murder and then Abe finds himself transported back to the start of the Oofuri series, 10 months earlier. I reread some of this first chapter, and by my standards, it’s awful

Ace of Diamond - scandal fanfic - one of the ones never intended to see the light of day. It’s just notes. Basically Seidou pulls off its own Black Sox scandal and gets nailed, with some drama over whether Eijun is actually guilty

Ace of Iron / Ace of Swords - a Diamond no Ace samurai AU, mostly notes but also including drafts of a first chapter. It grew so huge there was no chance I could ever write it as a fanfic, so I actually converted it into an original story idea that I may do something with some day

Big Windup - cheating ploy disaster - this one is just notes and also never intended to see the light of day. An Oofuri idea in which Nishiura’s defeated rivals suspect them of cheating and kidnap the club boys to force them to confess. It goes even more downhill. (I’m very glad that, since discovering Haikyuu, I now conceive fanfics I actually want to write.)

Day of the Countercoup - I had to dig to find this one cos I knew it existed, but it wasn't a file. It was a tab in an Excel doc I used for my Haikyuu political AU, Coup d’Etat. It’s notes for an aborted sequel (Coup d’Etat’s original title was “Night of the Coup,” hence this contrasting title) that I scrapped soon after starting work on it. So glad too! Coup d’Etat got its due, and that AUverse shall be left to itself now

Haikyu - Gospel of Shouyou - oh goodness. I’m not gonna explain this one. Me experimenting, not intended to see the light of day

Haikyu - Nightmare from Heaven - this one may be the fourth candidate for continuation as a long-term fic but is currently unpublished. A war/occupation fic in which Miyagi Prefecture is conquered during a contemporary World War III, and the Karasuno boys must now live under foreign military occupation. The first chapter and part of the second were written, and I've got several notes on my phone and PC about subsequent chapters. Thank goodness tensions in that part of the world have simmered down since I devised it

Life Hereafter - Chapter 6.5 alternate ending - oh no. Life Hereafter is my darkest and most sensitive fic, published only on FFN, written to process a RL tragedy I was distantly affected by. I struggled with the ending of Chapter 6, which covered Tsukki and Yamaguchi’s coping with the canonverse tragedy. One draft (called “6.5″ in case I ever wanted to publish it, but I likely never will) featured Tsukki, seeking solace and desperately wanting to console Yamaguchi, giving in to poor judgment and kissing him. Only to then learn Yamaguchi doesn't have the same feelings back. Topping off their hurt with this was far too cruel and painful, and even before I started typing it, I knew I wouldn’t actually publish it. Rereading the draft even now made me feel uncomfortable which is why I kept it because it’s perhaps the best friendship-ruining moment I’ve ever written

Oofuri fanfic - Sakura Conspiracy - I thought I wrote a chapter 1 draft too, but this is an outline for a WWII Oofuri AU in which Nishiura, after winning Koshien in the late 20s or early 30s, moves on to military and political careers, one of their former teammates dies under suspicious circumstances, and Mihashi fears one of his old teammates may be responsible. The story stretches from 1937 to 1945

I'm actually surprised I found no notes on my Haikyuu mafia AU idea. I guess I never actually transcribed any, even though the plot is substantially complete in my head!

These four are all notes for gigantic crossovers:

Periods of World fanfic - This was an experiment, in which each century from 2000 BC to 2000 AD was listed out, a different part of the world selected for each century, and then a different anime or manga assigned to each part of the world. The idea was to write a chapter set in that century in that area starring those characters. The last chapter, for the new millennium, would have covered all parts of the world. The file is dated 2013. It never became more than this list

Periods of World fanfic 2 - and so it seems I tried again! This file is dated 2014 and shows just a teeny bit more dedication, with the 20th century further subdivided into decades, then every year from 2000-2009, and then every six months for 2010-2014. There are some different anime choices than the 2013 version. Never went anywhere with it, never gonna

Reborn epic crossover anime tribute layout - yes, that’s the literal filename. This is from my days as a Katekyo Hitman Reborn fan, and I don't even recognize most of the character names anymore. Apparently the villains of Reborn travel to seven other anime universes to kidnap major characters to sacrifice them as part of some weird magic scheme that I can’t properly decipher now

Random multi-anime WWII fanfic plan - yes, that’s also the literal filename. This is an outline for a 50-chapter crossover set before and during World War II, where the main characters of Naruto are Russian, One Piece are British, Bleach are French, Katekyo Hitman Reborn are German, Blue Exorcist are Italian, Fairy Tail are Japanese, and Ed and Al from FMA are American. The plot is emotionally devastating, doesn’t pull the punches on all sorts of WWII-related triggers, and frequently and cruelly denies catharsis.

To be perfectly honest though, rereading it, I swear this is the best story I have ever invented! It has a heartrending blend of tragedy, poignant poetic justice, subplot causality, and social commentary and contains few of the traps I sometimes fall into like cheap shock and subplots going nowhere. I really wish I could do something with this narrative now

And I’ll count the hefty handful of TV scripts I’ve written in an effort to practice and hone my scriptwriting skills. All but the last one of these are hypothetical new seasons of real anime:

Blue Exorcist s2 - 1 episode. My attempt to write the Impure King arc, years before they actually produced the Impure King arc. This was not my best work

Noragami: God’s Secret - 2 episodes for a manga-based Season 3. These were pretty decent imo

Oofuri/Big Windup: The Coming of Fall - 17 episodes. I got really into this one. A speculative season 3 assuming three cours (imo we probably won’t be blessed with that many episodes if season 3 comes), covering everything up until the end of the fall tournament. The first 13 episodes covered the story up to chapter 84 minus the Kasukabe match, followed by an OVA (ep 13.5), and then I was working on the Kasukabe match told in hindsight before planning to continue with the big game of the fall prelims. The third cour would have covered the fall tournament itself

Mekakucity Actors XX - 4 episodes. My own idea for a season 2/alternate ending. Because I was very conflicted with how the anime ended

School Babysitters - this was an original episode idea for Gakuen Babysitters that I enjoyed writing very much but turned out too long (40 pages) and features the babies turning into insects. I wouldn't mind publishing it somewhere actually!

I am going to tag @wire-pudding and @kemoiunder! Anyone else who reads this and wants to explore the abyss that is non-started WIPs, be my guest too!