#i don’t always write much but i’m very confident in the proofreading/editing side of things

[libidinous-weeb]

oh also! to anyone following me that writes! ESPECIALLY ESL writers or anybody with any form of disability! (not a requirement tho!) i am always available to grammar check (for free!) if you’re interested! or to be a beta if you need one!

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[everamazingfe]

The Kumbaya Approach

Fic Summary: Trevor is the captain of his own ship and is in need of a new pilot when his old one abandons the crew. Fortunately, his trusty engineer Gavin knows of a good one. Unfortunately, the cargo he brings along with him is a little more dangerous than they anticipated. 

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Words: 15113 Pairings: Michael/Jeremy, Trevor/Alfredo Warnings: Mild descriptions of violence and blood

Notes: This was written for the Secret Springfairy fic exchange in the @rtwritingcommunity discord for @doolray! This was a ton of fun to write, I hope you enjoy, and big thanks to @fornhaus for proofreading/editing! Check the source for a link to read it on A 0 3!

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“What do you mean you quit?” 

“I mean I quit. I’m done with this bucket of bolts. Every day there’s a new problem, a new critical failure, a new busted part, and I’m sick of it! What kind of commander can’t get a handle on his own ship?”

“Hey! Those problems aren’t my fault, it’s the-”

“-The ship’s AI, right. Heard that one a thousand times. But they’re part of the crew, too. Which means they’re your responsibility. And if you can’t keep them under control and keep your ship in shape, I’m out of here at the next port.” 

The arguments had gone on like this for several days, nearly a week now, and it was the same thing every time. Jeremy would yell about how he was sick of being on the ship and lay down blame for its problems, and Trevor would defend himself against the barrage of insults instead of trying to change the other’s mind. He knew that was a futile effort, and he knew better than to fight losing battles.

The pair were silent for a long time, staring each other down. Jeremy was looking for a reason to get more wound up, to start yelling all over again. Telling off his commander for mistakes that everyone had seemingly let slide for far too long felt really good, and he wanted to keep going. Meanwhile, Trevor was calming down and calculating his next move very carefully. It was fine if his crew wanted to question his authority, they did it plenty and he never took it personally. But as far as he was concerned, Jeremy was no longer crew and no longer privy to that same mercy. After all, he’d quit.

“Fine. You can empty your quarters out and sleep in the observation deck, then. You’re no longer a member of this crew, so you no longer get to stay in crew cabins,” he stated after a few long moments, his tone cold. 

Jeremy blinked in surprise, not expecting Trevor to actually do anything about it. “Wait, what?”

“You heard me. You don’t get a room anymore, those are reserved for the crew. If you’re unhappy with that arrangement, I can tell Lindsay to get the airlock open for you.” 

“You know... If I leave, Michael’s gonna go with me. He goes where I go,” he reminded, though he was no longer yelling confidently. He was stumbling and faltering. Trevor had called his bluff effectively, and it was hard to keep up steam. 

“Then you can help each other clean out your quarters and keep each other warm on the deck,” he responded, shrugging casually. “Finding a new science officer will be just as easy as finding a new pilot.”

“And just how do you expect to get to the next port safely?”

Trevor chuckled softly, smiling. “Lindsay is more than equipped with satisfactory navigational skills, isn’t that right Linds?”

The comms system beeped to life, and a cheerful voice was heard over the speakers. “That’s right, Commander! Jack’s charting us a course as we speak. We’ll be on our way shortly.”

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There was some truth to Lindsay’s words. They were equipped with the best-in-the-market autopilot functionality, but Jack was not charting a course. The entirety of the crew was gathered around a large monitor in the communications bay, watching the whole ordeal unfold through Lindsay’s eyes. There were bets on how it would end. Most of the money was on it ending in blows at this point. 

“Like hell I’m going with him!” Michael shouted, waving his hands and scoffing in disbelief as he looked at the screen. “I’m not idiot enough to throw away a good job when I’ve got it. I mean, sure the place is a shithole, no offense Linds-” 

“None taken.”

“-But like… It’s not like we have to do anything. If I try and find another crew, they may make me do actual work! Can you imagine? I am not going anywhere.”

“I don’t think he’s going to give you a choice,” Jack said from beside him, the others all nodding in agreement. “I think you’re gonna have to go with him.” 

Michael huffed, rolling his eyes and turning up the volume on the terminal. “If there’s one thing you fuckers should’ve learned about me right now, it’s this: I don’t have to do shit. Especially not for my boyfriend.” 

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Jeremy grumbled to himself as he packed up his things. Michael was, of course, no help. He just stood in the doorway and spectated, making snide remarks when he saw fit. 

“You know, I’d really appreciate it if you could be on my side with this,” Jeremy said, balling up a shirt and throwing it at him. “Or at the very least, help me pack.”

Michael laughed, knocking away the shirt before it hit him in the face. “Fuck no, you dug this hole yourself. I’m not the moron who quit.”

“This place is a shithole and you know it.”

“Yeah, but you never have to fix any of it! You just have to sit there in your comfy pilot chair and wait for Gavin to do it.” Had Michael always been a little jealous of his boyfriend’s job? A little bit. The med bay was cold and unwelcoming, but the cockpit was cushy and warm. Plus, with Lindsay on board, the pilot didn’t really have to do much at all unless their systems went down. Which, to be fair, did happen a lot. “You pilots are always so snooty. You knew what you were getting into when you took this gig, you can’t expect it to be like the Ritz now.”

“Just fucking go,” Jeremy muttered, swiping up the last of his clothes from the floor. “Don’t even bother visiting, either.” The comment hurt them both, but that didn’t make him mean it any less. He didn’t want Michael to visit, he wanted him to stay at the port with him. 

The other just laughed heartily and shook his head, turning on his heel to leave. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

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The observation deck was, as it always was, cold and lonely. The warm blankets and fluffy pillows that were on his bed were technically part of the quarters he had previously taken residence in, so all Jeremy had to sleep on was the metal floor, cushioned by his clothing and a few other soft belongings. The things that he owned that were unfit for laying on were stacked around him. The observation deck’s window was huge, and as he laid there unable to sleep, the vastness of space no longer brought him the same comfort it had when he was in the pilot’s seat. 

“Hey, Lindsay?”

The comms beeped to life once more. “Yes, Jeremy?”

“Am I making a mistake?” He asked, sitting up and leaning back against the stack. 

There were a few long seconds of contemplative silence before they spoke again. “Yeah, you are. A huge one, I’d say.”

“That’s not really comforting... I don’t suppose Trevor would be willing to… Reconsider?”

“No, I don’t think so. You insulted the ship. The commander takes that personally.” Lindsay did too, but they figured that Jeremy already felt guilty enough without them piling on as well. 

“C’mon, you know I didn’t mean it.” 

“Do I, though? Because I really don’t think I do,” they stated. Maybe Jeremy didn’t feel as guilty as they had hoped, so their politeness parameters were temporarily suspended. “This is a ship made from stolen parts, what do you expect? For everything to run perfectly all the time? If you wanted that, you should’ve signed up for one of the legal spacefarers out there,” they quipped. If they had eyes, they would have rolled them. 

Jeremy sighed heavily, sinking down the wall and burying his face in his hands. Maybe it wasn’t too late to take Trevor up on that airlock offer, he was sure he’d be happy to oblige.

“Is Michael going with you?” Lindsay asked after a few minutes, breaking the silence and sounding innocent enough. Jeremy couldn’t tell whether they wanted a yes or a no, but there was no use lying to them. They’d seen Jeremy packing alone, his quarters empty while Michael’s were still very much full. 

“No,” he responded, shaking his head, “No, he’s not. He’s gonna be staying on board.”

“Oh, good. I like him. I’d be sad if he left.”

“But you’re not sad that I’m leaving?” There was no response to his words, just the comms beeping to signal that Lindsay wouldn’t be answering more of his questions. Jeremy sighed again and lowered his hands, staring back out at the stars. “I don’t even think that Michael’s sad that I’m leaving,” he muttered to himself, laying back down in his pile of clothes and shoving an old jacket under his head for a makeshift pillow.

He couldn’t exactly blame him for it, either. Maybe he could’ve been a better boyfriend, maybe he should’ve just bitten his tongue and held back whatever criticisms he had of Trevor and the ship. But part of this felt like it was inevitable, like he was always going to blow up like this. The worst part was that he didn’t even feel guilty about any of it, he was only sorry that speaking up had the consequences that it had. It was hard to have any regrets about it when he fully believed he was doing the right thing, though.

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It only took them another week to reach the nearest spaceport, some podunk trading and tourist hub located pretty centrally to all the bigger colonies. Trevor liked it because they’d be able to stock up on supplies without having to scrounge or overpay. That was something that desperately needed doing, the last few ports had single rations sold for thousands of credits or reasonably priced ones that were nearly a century past date. Plus, they’d have pretty good odds at finding a replacement pilot there too. Jeremy liked it because it didn’t seem like the worst place to be booted onto, he could find work with another crew or in the port pretty easily. Everyone else liked it because being at port meant a few days of rest. Lindsay didn’t have to worry about some of the more power-hungry systems that came with flying a ship, which meant that Gavin didn’t have to run around making patchwork repairs at every hour of the day. But for some, their work didn’t stop. Matt always had to keep his ear to the radio for any incoming transmissions, and Michael and Fiona could only leave their experiments and samples unattended for so long before there were catastrophic results.

Reaching port this time was different this time around, though. They’d never had to say goodbye to one of their own before. Jeremy had been permitted one last night on the ship, but in the morning he’d have to go. To honor that last night, Gavin and Michael decided to organize a going away party for their fellow lad, complete with drinks and proper food (not just freeze-dried rations that pretended to be edible) and parting gifts. 

It made Jeremy feel better about going when he saw how sad everyone seemed to be, how sincere they were in expressing how much they would miss him. He’d convinced himself that they all hated him for speaking out the way that he had, no one had come to speak to him in the observation deck and the only time he saw anyone was when he was brought his rations, but the party was a good indication that they didn’t hate him: they just pitied him. 

Michael was certainly the most upset, despite the fact that he’d pretended to be unbothered only a week prior. Even if they had to do it from lightyears away, they promised each other they’d find a way to make things work. The communication technology was there, they’d still be able to talk. Michael was just glad that he wouldn’t have to worry too much about Jeremy while he was gone. It was a busy port, there’d be plenty of people around looking to hire a skilled pilot. And even if he couldn’t find work right away, it was safe enough that he could stay there for a while without running into any trouble unless he went looking. 

Despite all the fun of the festivities, Trevor’s absence was hard to miss. Jeremy had to admit that he’d been foolish for expecting it, but not getting a final goodbye from his former commander stung. 

However, Trevor had decided that his day was best spent working instead of partying, arranging for fresh shipments of supplies to be loaded into the cargo bay and beginning his search for a new pilot. The first task was successful, the latter one… Not so much. No one was really giving him the time of day, not believing him when he told them he captained his own ship and could afford to pay handsomely for work. Or they simply weren’t interested in the cargo that would need to be transported. After he was fed a lot of bullshit from people who clearly didn’t know anything trying to weasel their way onto his ship, he reached his limit and returned to the ship, thoroughly disheartened by the end of the night.

Trevor spent the evening in his quarters, agonizing over the situation for a few hours. There were a few solid candidates when he looked past all their unfavorable qualities, but he still wasn’t thrilled about any of them. Everyone was busy partying with Jeremy, he was grateful for the peace while he tried to work something out. The only thing that pulled him out of his thoughts was Lindsay’s chime. Usually that signaled that he’d been working for too long and it was time to get some rest, so he began to stand up, stretching his arms out over his head to ease away the stiffness.

“Commander, Gavin’s outside the door. Should I let him in?” They asked, sending a feed to his terminal of the lad standing outside the doors. He sat back down slowly, squinting as he looked at the grainy footage on the screen. 

“Does he look like he’s carrying any stink bombs? I can’t tell.” 

There were a few moments of silent examination before the comms beeped to life again. “Nope, he’s clear.” 

Trevor waved in approval then, twisting around in his chair to face the door. “Let him in, then.” 

The doors slid open to reveal Gavin standing there, fortunately empty-handed, with a smile on his face. “Commander! Missed you at the party, you should’ve been there! I saved you a bev, if you want it.” 

“No thanks. Some of us had actual work to do, y’know.” He paused, looking the other up and down. It was always hard to read Gavin, he was always brimming with so much energy, it was hard to tell if his fidgeting was excited stimming or covering up for anxious nerves. There was no telling what he wanted to share. “I really hope you didn’t come here just to chastise me for not going to a party for someone who couldn’t stop insulting the ship every chance he got.”

“Nah, I get it. No one insults our Lindsay and gets away with it. But… I do think I can help with some of your problems.” Trevor arched an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to continue. “I know a pilot at this port. He’s one of the best. Well, actually, he is the best. And! He owes me a favor! So he’ll definitely be taking the job.”

“If he’s the best, how can you be sure he’s not currently in a crew?”

Gavin laughed at that, and Trevor’s face turned to one of confusion. “He’s rather picky about the jobs he takes. And, like I said: He owes me.”

He was quiet for a few moments, biting his lip as he thought it over. Gavin hadn’t led him astray before, it was how they’d ended up with Michael and Fiona on the crew, but it all felt a little too good to be true. Coincidences made him uneasy, but what choice did he have? “How soon can I meet him?”

“Tomorrow, if you’d like.”

“I’d like to, yeah. After breakfast. Lindsay, set an alarm for the engineering bay to make sure Gavin wakes up in time.”

“Yes, commander.”

“Hey!”

Trevor grinned as the other pouted. “Anything else, Gav?”

Gavin flipped him off before breaking out into a grin of his own. “Nope! That’s it. I should get back to the engines ‘case they bust again, but I’m happy to be of service. See you tomorrow, Trev.”

“See you tomorrow, Gavin. Get some rest, don’t stay up too late pestering Matt.”

“Will do, won’t do, goodnight!”

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The next morning came soon enough, the crew having breakfast together for a change since Michael had been kind enough to grab some fresh ingredients and cook them a nice meal. It was refreshing to have real food, not just the usual freeze-dried rations or nutrient slurries they normally relied on. And real coffee was always a treat, though no one would dare insult Fiona’s synthesized seaweed coffee replacement for fear of losing the one caffeine source they had between stops. 

After the meal, Gavin and Trevor set out as planned. They had a pilot to search for, and the lad wouldn’t stop ranting and raving about how great this guy was supposed to be. Trevor just hoped that he was going to live up to all the hype.

“When you said this guy is picky about the jobs he takes, just how picky did you mean?” He asked as they searched through the first hotspot. There were a few places this mysterious pilot liked to hang out in apparently, and there was no telling which one he’d be at. 

Gavin chuckled softly, glancing over at Trevor with a smile until he realized he was being serious. Then, he just shrugged a shoulder. “I dunno. He won’t complain about the ship, if that’s what you mean.”

“Kind of. I just want to make sure he’s not too high class to run the sort of jobs we run.”

“Oh, trust me. He’s not. He is exactly low class enough to run these sort of jobs. But, y’know, like everyone else he wants to make sure the money’s real, and that he’s not gonna end up space dust.” 

“Fair enough.” Those were reasonable requests, and ones that were easy enough for Trevor to guarantee. No one on his crew ever ran out of credits, and no one had gotten seriously injured on a job. The ‘on the job’ part was the most important part of that sentence, because injuries did still happen around the ship, despite everyone’s best efforts. 

Spots two and three were as equally bust as the first one, but Gavin was just as determined as he’d been at breakfast. Trevor, not so much. It was well past mid-day by the time they reached the fifth spot, some sort of hotel and lounge for people to catch their breath and put their feet up. 

The moment they stepped in the door, there was a big beaming grin on Gavin’s face. “Fredo!” He shouted, raising his arms as he cheered. “Took us long enough to find you!”

The man in question was seated casually on a sofa, nose buried in a magazine, though his attention was broken by Gavin’s shouting cutting through the ambiance. “Gavin?” He asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion as he set his magazine aside and stood. “What the hell are you doing so far out?”

“Ah, well, that’s a bit of a long story,” he said, waving a hand to dismiss the question as he walked up to the man and wrapped an arm around him. He dragged him over to Trevor, still beaming. “Trevor, this is Alfredo. Best pilot on this side of the universe. On both sides, probably, but he doesn’t like to brag. And Alfredo, this is Trevor. He’s the big boss of the Morrigan.”

“I, uh… Yeah, that’s me. I’m the cap- The commander.”

“Cat got your tongue, Commander?” Alfredo asked, smirking as the other’s face tinted red. “C’mon, let’s go somewhere else and chat. There’s way too many people listening in out here.”

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They ended up in Alfredo’s room, crowded around the small table underneath a dim light. However, Trevor didn’t need a lot of light to get a read on someone, and he noticed a lot of things about their potential new pilot in a short time. He didn’t fidget like Gavin did, each movement seemed like it was with purpose, but sometimes he’d flex his fingers and roll his wrists. It told him that he was as experienced as Gavin said, because Jeremy had started to do the same thing after a long time behind the helm. His jacket was well worn, the red still bright in some spots but faded in others, and patched in places where it’d been damaged. That told him that Alfredo wasn’t afraid of a fight, and he was resourceful enough to not let good things go to waste. All good things, in his book. 

“So, what’s your offer?” Alfredo asked, breaking the silence once they’d all gotten settled around the table. 

“My… Offer?” 

“Yeah. If I work for you, what do I get?”

Trevor and Gavin looked at each other for a moment, the latter stunned by the bluntness of the question, but the former was used to unprofessionalism like that. In fact, he preferred it. “Well, for starters, a spot on the ship. You get your own private quarters. However, you really are there as a backup to our ship’s computer in case things get extra… Challenging. They’re good, but there’s limits to every AI.”

Alfredo’s eyebrows raised at that. He’d never been on a ship that had a computer like that on it before. “Sounds like a fancy ship.”

Gavin snorted out a laugh, shaking his head quickly. “Trust me, it’s not. It’s all cobbled together, and the only reason we ended up with Lindsay was because their system was gonna be salvage otherwise.” 

“Right…” He cleared his throat, looking back to Trevor. “What about money?”

“We all get an equal cut of the credits. We’re all important on the Morrigan, no one gets more or less than anyone else.” Everyone put in a lot of work to keep the ship running smoothly, sometimes Trevor felt like he wasn’t doing enough in comparison. Every now and then, he’d take less from his own cut to give everyone else a little more. It felt fair. “And we kind of just go wherever when we’re not running jobs.”

Alfredo was quiet for a few moments, thinking things over. He knew he owed Gavin a favor, but at the same time this whole deal seemed too good to be true. No commander was ever this reasonable, this good to his crew. “Can you go wait outside for a minute? I’d like to talk to Gavin,” he said finally, and Trevor was happy to oblige. He didn’t take his eyes off the other man until the door closing forced him too, then they were fixed on Gavin. “This smells like bullshit.”

“I’m telling you Fredy, it’s not. We all get an equal cut, the rooms are pretty damn lush, and the jobs are alright. I don’t do much but patch up the ship after them, but we haven’t had any major hull breaches yet.” He seemed quite proud of himself for that, but deflated when Alfredo didn’t respond in kind. 

“Yeah, but what about your last pilot? What happened to them? No one just leaves a gig this good.”

“Ah, well… Actually, some do. There were a few… Disagreements. He wasn’t happy on the ship, and Trevor doesn’t like when people insult the Morrigan, or Lindsay,” he explained, choosing his words carefully. He wasn’t sure either of the men involved would be happy if the story started to get spread. “But it’s a good ship, a good crew, and Trevor’s a good man. Plus, you owe me.”

“I know, and that’s the worst part!” He groaned, slumping forward with his face in his hands. “I hate owing you, you always make people pay you back in the worst possible ways!”

“Oi! I’m getting you a job!”

“Yeah, and it all sounds shady as shit! I know you’re smugglers, but damn. Trevor’s cold.”

Gavin just chuckled softly, because he couldn’t exactly disagree with him. The commander had his moments, but didn’t everyone? “Look, Fredo. You need this, and we need you. So just… Take the job, would you?” 

Alfredo chewed the inside his lip as he thought it over, letting out a long sigh after a minute. “Alright, I’ll do it.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear,” Gavin said with a grin, clapping Alfredo on the shoulder before yelling for Trevor to come back inside. 

He genuinely couldn’t guess what they had been talking about in there, but judging by the look on Gavin’s face it was something good. “You’ve decided, then?” He asked Alfredo as he took his seat again.

“He has! He said that he’d joi-“

“-Gavin, dude. Let me talk,” he said, swatting at the other man to get him to shut up. “I’ll join your crew, on one condition…” He trailed off, wanting to gauge the other’s response before he continued.

“And that is?” Trevor asked, arching an eyebrow and waiting for him to go on. 

“I have some cargo I need to get off this asteroid. It’ll be a win/win for the both of us: You get to see how good I fly, I get this job off my back, and you, me, and your crew get to split the money.”

It’d be a good reason to get out of the spaceport faster too. Trevor wasn’t planning on leaving until they had a job anyway and now one had fallen right into their laps with a new pilot in hand. “Sounds like a deal to me,” he said, reaching a hand out for Alfredo to shake and smiling across the table at him. It was a genuine smile, the facade of the stern negotiator falling away. 

Alfredo grinned right back at him, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake. “Hell yes.”

“We can get into the details of the job back on the ship, but I wanna introduce you to your new crew first.”

“Oh, you’re gonna love them, Fredo. They’re all brilliant.” 

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The Morrigan welcomed its commander back onto the ship with a cheerful musical tone, the doors sliding open as he approached with Gavin and Alfredo in tow. 

“Oh, now who’s this?” Lindsay asked, curious about the new arrival. If they were being honest, they hadn’t expected Gavin to be telling the truth about knowing a pilot, or for Trevor to be convincing enough to get him to join. Their expectations weren’t pessimistic, just realistic. They knew their crew.

“Lindsay! Hey there, perfect timing,” Trevor said with a grin as Gavin scurried off to go gather the rest of the crew. “This is Alfredo, he’s gonna be our new pilot! And Alfredo, this is Lindsay, our ship's computer, and your co-pilot. If you have any questions about the ship, they’ll be the one to ask.”

“That’s right!” They chirped, “Not to brag or anything, but I know more about this ship than anyone, except maybe Gavin. We’re about equal, but don’t tell him I said that!”

Alfredo chuckled, amused by just how much personality this supposed AI had. “Are you sure there’s not a person on the other side of those comms, commander?”

Trevor simply shook his head. “Nope, just a Lindsay!” He answered, motioning for Alfredo to follow him as he led him further into the ship. Doors opened and shut behind them automatically as they went, which meant that Lindsay was keeping a close eye on them. They’d really taken Jeremy’s comments about the ship to heart, and they had to make sure the new guy wasn’t going to say the same thing. 

“No offense, but… How does a ship like this afford a computer like that? I know how much these jobs make, and how much those things cost, and… The math just isn’t adding up.”

The speakers beeped to life with a gentle tone, and Lindsay spoke up for themselves. “I was a rejected version of an even more advanced system, but because of how advanced I still was, they couldn’t just shut me down and wipe out all my data. So, they put me up for sale instead.”

“We got a pretty good deal on them, actually. No one really wants a buggy AI, too much of a risk or whatever, but for a smuggling crew who doesn’t care about perfection, they’re perfect.” The bugs that the programmers had rejected Lindsay for were hardly even bugs in Trevor’s eyes, they were just things that made them too hard to control. There was no speech filter, no way to control them or make them do whatever you wanted, which is why they’d been rejected. You had to treat them like a person, and their programmers had hated that. 

Alfredo was genuinely impressed by the state of the ship, and how smoothly things seemed to run on the surface. Lindsay gave him a quick brief on the engine the ship was powered by and some tips for when he was at the controls to help work around some of its quirks. By the time their spiel was done, they’d reached the bridge where everyone had been gathered so they could get introductions out of the way all at once instead of hunting people down one by one.

The Morrigan was no small ship, and its crew matched it. It was, by far, the largest smuggling ship that Alfredo had ever stepped foot in. Probably the happiest as well. Every role had a person to fill it, and none of them seemed to have many complaints either. 

The first person to speak up and introduce herself was Jack, the ship’s navigations officer. She worked with Lindsay to chart their courses, keeping in mind everything that they’d have to avoid ranging from rogue space debris to the ever annoying authorities. The three of them would be working very closely together, so Alfredo was glad that she spoke up first. 

Michael and Fiona introduced themselves next, the former being the ship’s medical officer and physician while the latter was a scientist. She had her own experiments to run, but she also spent a lot of time helping Michael keep everyone on board the ship healthy. It was a much more difficult task than one would expect, apparently. Alfredo asked Fiona what she was doing on the ship, but she refused to say anything more than “nunya business,” and Trevor insisted that it was better if he didn’t know, so he dropped the subject. 

The communications officer introduced himself after that. Matt was more quiet and reserved than everyone else seemed to be, but he still seemed quite content in his role. It seemed like there wasn’t much to do - there were no aliens trying to make contact, or even that many other ships for that matter - so he spent a lot of his time misusing the comms to catch up on radio shows from Earth or the other space outposts. 

“Alright! Well, feel free to hang out with everyone for a bit,” Trevor said, noticeably relieved that everyone seemed to like Alfredo, and vice-versa. It was a good first step. Gavin was usually a pretty good judge of character, but one could never be too careful. 

“You’re not gonna stick around?” Alfredo asked, frowning a little. “You can’t just leave me alone with these guys.” That comment was hushed, he didn’t want anyone else to hear. 

“Sure I can. I’ve got some work to do, and besides, they don’t bite.” He looked pointedly at Michael. “Usually.” Alfredo whirled around to follow Trevor’s gaze, eyes going wide as Michael snarled at him. The pair broke out into laughter, making Alfredo huff in displeasure.

“That’s not funny, man.”

“Sorry, sorry, couldn’t resist. Just… Relax.” He put his hands on the other’s shoulders, giving him a little shake. “Everyone here is great, they’re the nicest people on this side of the galaxy. You’re gonna have to get to know them eventually, so you might as well start now. I got some work I gotta do to get us loaded up, but come up to my quarters later. We need to hammer out the details of that job so we can get outta here soon.”

Alfredo nodded slowly, mumbling a confirmation and watching as Trevor turned on his heel and walked out of the room. Michael and Gavin slammed a hand down onto each of his shoulders, snapping him out of his trance as they whirled him around. 

“C’mon, Alfredo! We’ve still got some booze leftover from Jeremy’s going away party,” Michael told him with a wicked grin, “Jack makes the best drinks, you gotta try one.”

“I dunno... I just joined, is that really smart?”

“Is what smart?” 

“Drinking.”

“Nah,” Gavin scoffed, shaking his head quickly. “Drinking’s always smart, trust me.”

Alfredo rolled his eyes. He knew firsthand that trusting Gavin was a bad idea when it came to alcohol, but on the other hand… Maybe it’d be a good way to get more comfortable around everyone. He was still a little wary, and a little overwhelmed by the sheer size of the crew, some help feeling more at ease was definitely welcome. It was called liquid courage for a reason. 

And after a few drinks, he certainly felt more at ease. At the same time, it was weird being accepted so quickly. Sometimes he was stuck on his own, even when he was on a crew. Space had a tendency to be a very lonely and isolating place, it seemed like these people were well aware of the fact, and worked hard to make sure no one fell victim to its clutches. Fiona saw him standing off to the side, trying to edge away from all the excitement, and dragged him right into it. Jack gave him drinks when she spotted an empty cup, alternating between alcoholic and not to make sure he didn’t end up too far gone. And Michael and Gavin were something else entirely, wasting no time in filling him in on the latest ship gossip and ongoing pranks. Ultimately, he decided that he’d made a good choice in trusting Gavin and joining the Morrigan. 

When the festivities died down and everyone began to clean up and retreat to their quarters, Alfredo took it as his sign to go and find Trevor and discuss the job with him. Finding his quarters was easy enough, but he hesitated outside. 

“He already knows you’re there, you know,” Lindsay piped up, giggling when they saw Alfredo jump and search around for the source of their voice. It was all around them, coming through every speaker in that part of the hall. “He’s got a video feed that shows the hall outside of his door. Put it in after Gavin pranked him a few too many times,” they added, this time only speaking from the nearest speaker. 

“Yeah, Gavin’s always been one for pranks.” He stepped closer to the door, but still didn’t go in.

They hummed softly, some sensors whirring in a far off room of the Morrigan. “Why are you hesitating?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because!” Alfredo gestured in exasperation, activating the door’s motion sensor. He jumped again as it slid open, staring through it and making eye contact with Trevor, who was seated at his desk and smiling knowingly. 

“Thank you, Lindsay.”

“Any time, commander! That trick never fails.”

Alfredo looked at Trevor with wide eyes, stammering out an excuse that was immediately waved off. “Just come on in, there’s no use putting it off,” he told him. “The sooner we get things sorted, the sooner we can get out of the port.”

“Why the rush?” He asked as he stepped inside, the door sliding shut behind him with a loud thunk. “It’s pretty nice, as far as spaceports go.”

“Yeah, but I’ve got a disgruntled former pilot hanging around here now, and I really don’t want him deciding that he wants to get revenge.”

“Fair enough.” Alfredo sat down in the chair across from Trevor, watching him from across the desk. When the other didn’t speak right away, he took it as an opportunity to do so instead. “So, the job. It’s several crates of cargo, will you have enough space in the hold for all of that?”

“How many is several, exactly?”

“About ten, all pretty decently sized. A yard or two each way, at least.”

Trevor chuckled, nodding as he made a note. “Oh yeah, we’ll have plenty of room. I’ve got some supplies getting loaded up tomorrow, if you talk to a man named Geoff at the mercantile he’ll be sure to slip ‘em in, make sure no one suspects anything.”

Alfredo raised his eyebrows, impressed. “That’s it? No questions about the cargo?”

Trevor let out a long sigh at that, lifting his eyes from his notebook to look at him. “Usually, I don’t want to know. It’s not my business to know. I’m not paid to know,” he explained, waiting until the other nodded in understanding to carry on. “But, since you brought it up, I feel like I should ask… Is it alive?”

“Uh… Yeah, it is.”

“Is it people? Cause I don’t do that shit.”

“What? No. No! It’s… Well, it’s-“

“Is it gonna break out of the crates and kill us in our sleep?”

Alfredo didn’t have an immediate answer to that one. Trevor didn’t find that comforting. 

“Probably not?”

They stared at each other for a few moments, gauging each other’s reactions until Trevor broke the silence. “Works for me! Like I said, talk to Geoff at the mercantile, let him know where you keep everything, he’ll get it all worked out.” He extended his hand, offering it to Alfredo for him to shake. “I’m looking forward to working with you, Alfredo.”

“Likewise,” the other man said, reaching out and giving Trevor’s hand a firm shake. “The Morrigan seems like a real nice ship, I can’t wait to see how they fly.”

With that, Alfredo took his leave, but Trevor kept his eyes on the door long after he walked out. 

The comms beeped to life, and Lindsay spoke from a speaker on Trevor’s desk. “I like him already.”

“Yeah, I do too,” he said whimsically before shaking his head to clear the thoughts from his mind and pointing a finger at the speaker. “I never said that. You didn’t hear that.”

“Of course, Commander. I heard nothing.”

----------------------------------------------------

The cargo was loaded up without issue the following day. All Alfredo had to do was give the boxes a small mark once they were in the hold, that way they’d know what was the smuggled cargo, but that was an easy enough task. They spent a few more hours at the port, letting everyone do a small tour around for some shopping and giving Michael a chance to say some goodbyes to Jeremy before they set out. 

“Alright, let’s see how this baby flies,” Alfredo said with a grin once he was in the pilot’s seat, cracking his knuckles. This was the one place where he truly felt confident and in his element, and it was so good to be back where he belonged. “Jack, we got a course set?”

“Yup, Lindsay’s got all the info, and there should be a copy of it there on your terminal,” Jack said from her station, turning in her seat to look at Alfredo and give him a thumbs up. She grinned as she got one in return. 

“Sweet. Lindsay, you ready to take off?” 

A few melodic beeps came through the speakers as they checked in with Gavin to make sure the engines were all in working order, then they spoke. “I am! Gavin’s on standby in case anything goes wrong, too.”

“Perfect, start the launch sequence for me, please?”

“Ooh, how polite! I like this one,” they hummed, and Jack laughed softly from her station at the way Alfredo’s cheeks tinged pink. “Sure thing, Fredo. One launch sequence, coming right up!”

The Morrigan shook and creaked as the engines fired up, groaning with effort as the sound roared through the engineering bay and echoed around the spaceport. It was a big ship that required a lot of power to get going, even more so to break away from the gravitational field surrounding the port, and every time they took the crew was terrified that it would come apart at the seams under the pressure. But, like it did every time before, it pulled through, and it wasn’t long until they were up in the atmosphere and out into space. 

“Wow,” Alfredo breathed, slumping back in his chair once things had stabilized. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding his breath. “Is it always like that?”

Trevor chuckled from behind him, smiling and nodding. “Yeah, pretty much.” He walked up and patted Alfredo on the shoulder, making eye contact with him in the window’s reflection before looking past it at the stars. “Get used to it, buddy.” The clanking of the ship he’d long since learned to tune out, but seeing the stars? It never got old to him. They were just as beautiful every time he saw them, and it was easy to get lost looking at them as they went by. 

“Guess I’m gonna have to.” It was clear that Trevor was lost in thought, so Alfredo just nudged his hand from his shoulder and leaned to look around him at Jack. “How we lookin’? Smooth sailing?”

“Smooth sailing. No asteroids, no authorities, no other ships if we’re lucky. I’ll let you know if that changes, though. It’ll take us a while to get to our next stop, few days at the most.”

“Can this thing handle lightspeed?”

Jack and Lindsay both broke out into laughter, and even Trevor snapped out of his trance to join in. 

“Absolutely not,” Lindsay told him, laughing brightly. They took great pride in the Morrigan, but even they knew its limits. “We’ve been trying to get our hands on a new warp drive for a while now, but no such luck. We’re stuck inside this solar system for the time being, unfortunately.”

“Put my cut from the job towards one, then.” Trevor’s eyebrows shot up, and he met Alfredo’s eyes through the reflection once more. “I’m serious. The further you can travel, the better jobs you can get.” And even for short distances, Alfredo wasn’t really one for travelling at a space snail’s pace. “The better jobs you get, the more money you make.” 

Trevor couldn’t disagree with that logic, so he simply just nodded in approval. “I’ll start putting my cut towards one too, then.” 

“Seriously?” Jack piped up, “like Gavin doesn’t have enough to fix around here?”

The commander turned towards her, arching an eyebrow. “Everyone’s free to spend their cut on whatever they like, and that’s how Alfredo and I are choosing to use ours. Do I say anything when you spend it on baseball cards just cause Geoff and Gav talked about ‘em?”

“No…”

“No, I don’t. So, you mind your business, and I’ll mind mine.” Trevor could take a ribbing as good as the rest of the ship’s crew, but there were some things he just wouldn’t take. The ship was still a very sore subject for him. Jack let out a long sigh but nodded, knowing that there was no use in pushing the matter further. “So, Alfredo. You don’t have to stay here all the time, Lindsay’ll put an alarm out if there’s any immediate threats you’re needed for. I don’t expect you to be sitting here all day, every day. That’d just be mean.”

Alfredo nodded in understanding, spinning around in the chair to get a look at Trevor. “I’ll probably hang out here most of the day, though. Nice view, y’know? Plus I wouldn’t want Lindsay and Jack to get bored,” he joked, cracking a smile. 

“Good plan.” Trevor nodded in approval before he spun around to leave, though he lingered just out of sight. Alfredo was agreeable, almost too agreeable. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the guy, or that he cared if he was a troublemaker, but it was certainly an oddity to have a crewmember that actually wanted to do their job. There had to be a catch. There was always a catch. 

Jack scoffed from her seat once she thought Trevor was gone, glancing over at Alfredo from her terminal. “You let him walk all over you, dude.”

“He’s the boss, I’m gonna listen to him,” he responded simply, looking to her for barely a second before his eyes were back on the stars. 

“Yeah, but you can push back a little, he’s not gonna bite your head off for it.”

“He gets enough of that from the rest of you assholes.”

“Whoa, okay. Just trying to help.” 

Alfredo turned in his chair then, meeting Jack’s eyes. “I don’t need your help. Did you hear what Trevor said? ‘You mind your business, I’ll mind mine?’ That goes for me too.” He’d put up with enough bullshit from the other crews he’d been a part of and jobs he’d taken, and he wasn’t going to let this be like the rest of them. He knew the difference between letting himself get pushed over and keeping his head below the fenceline so he didn’t end up losing it. 

They stared each other down for a few long moments, sizing each other up. Jack realized then that she’d misjudged Alfredo. He wasn’t some rookie pilot pulled off the streets, he was the real deal, and he wasn’t going to take any shit from anyone. On the other hand, Alfredo realized that he’d judged Jack correctly, and he didn’t like antagonists much. He knew he’d warm up to her eventually, he had to if he didn’t want this whole thing to fall through, but that was an awfully bad start. 

Lindsay couldn’t stand the tension that was building in the room, making the air so thick that the vent system was having a hard time sucking it up for purification. So they did the only thing they could to break it: Sound a station-wide alarm. Trevor had to come out of his hiding spot then, running up to the main console to check the system. 

“Lindsay, what the hell’s going on?!” He asked, having to shout over the blaring alarm. 

“I don’t know, the alarm just started going off!” They shouted back, sounding panicked, although it was all an act. They pretended to flounder for a moment, making sure that there was enough time for the tension to fade entirely and that Alfredo and Jack had forgotten about their spat before they killed the alarm. “There! All sorted, I think it was just a crossed wire or something. Crazy, huh?” They could tell that Trevor didn’t quite believe them, but at least Jack and Alfredo had gotten back to work. “Maybe you should stick around for a bit, commander. Just to make sure nothing like that happens again.”

“Hm.” He hummed as he took a seat in the commander’s chair, kicking his feet up onto the console in front of him. There was no way to tell what they were playing at, but keeping an eye on the new recruit wasn’t exactly a bad idea, especially if Jack was going to be giving him trouble. “I think you’re right, Lindsay. Can’t be having any trouble on the bridge now, can we? Good call.”

“No commander, we can’t. And thank you.”

----------------------------------------------------

Things were quiet for a few days. Too quiet. There were the usual pranks and fights and other nonsense, but there were no large scale problems. Any commander would be happy about that and proud of their crew for avoiding disaster, but not Trevor. On the Morrigan, that meant there was a ticking time bomb hidden somewhere on the ship, and it was only a matter of time until it blew. He allowed himself to sleep, but only for a few hours at a time, and when he was awake he was on constant patrol. The previous longest record for going without a major incident was about three days, and it was now encroaching on a week. He wasn’t counting the detour they’d had to make to avoid some random authorities patrolling the system as a major incident, just a minor setback, so they were still due for something. 

When it hit a week since their last incident, he was almost convinced that he could relax, that he could let his guard down and accept that there was nothing waiting just around the bend for him. Almost. Barely a second after that thought crossed his mind, he heard footsteps quickly approaching from behind him.

“Hey, Trevor-boy!” Gavin called out for him, making him spin on his heels. “So, got a bit of a problem for you.” It was weird seeing someone relieved to learn there was a problem, but Trevor certainly looked that way. “There’s a lot of uh… Banging, coming from the storage deck.”

“Have you gone down there to check it out?” He asked, already knowing the answer before he even asked. 

“Absolutely not! Are you insane? Michael won’t go either, before you ask, you’re gonna have to go down there and look,” he informed him, and Trevor pinched the bridge of his nose. “Hey, don’t give me that! We don’t know what Alfredo brought on board, and I’m not trying to get eaten.”

“He promised me it wouldn’t kill us in our sleep.”

“That doesn’t mean it won’t kill us when we’re awake, though.”

Trevor sucked in a breath, holding it for a moment as he thought his next words over carefully. “Lindsay?” He called, his attention no longer on Gavin as he began to walk

The speaker system chimed to life, and Lindsay greeted the two of them cheerfully. “Yes, commander?”

“Where’s Alfredo?” 

There was a beat of silence as they checked all of their ocular systems. “He’s in the bridge, why?”

“Have him meet me down by the storage bay, would you? And have Michael bring down a few weapons, I don’t know what we’re dealing with. Can you tell if anything’s started moving down there?”

“There is a lot of movement down there, but I think whatever it is, it’s still in the crates.” The comms system buzzed as they went quiet, searching the cargo bay to make sure they weren’t sending their crew down into certain death. “Yeah, no, it’s definitely still contained.” There was a beat of silence before they whispered, “for now.”

That brought some relief, at least. Still, he didn’t want to go in there with nothing, just in case. At least they managed to hit a new record. He’d have to mark it on his calendar when he got back up to his quarters. 

He let Gavin get back to work somewhere along the way down to the bottom of the ship, waiting outside the door to the hold and tapping his foot as he waited for Alfredo and Michael to join him. As he opened his mouth to ask Lindsay to let them know he was waiting, he heard the telltale sound of yelling that signalled Michael’s approach. Alfredo was much quieter, but he had no doubt that he was in tow.

Still, he was impatient. Trevor always was when it came to the safety of his crew. If there was anything that had the potential to harm them, he wanted it dealt with as quickly and efficiently as possible. There was no room for wasting time. He already had his hand out as Michael rounded the corner, and he didn’t lower it until he felt the weight of a gun settled in it. 

“Gave you your usual rifle, boss. Figured you’d want something reliable,” he explained, watching as Trevor inspected the rifle to make sure it was up to his standards. “Gave Fredo the harpoon gun, figured it might be handy and he said he’s used one of those before. Plus pistols for the both of you. Try not to miss your shots, though. Gavin’ll be pissed if he has to do a hull repair.” 

“Thank you, Michael. We’ll take it from here, but…” He trailed off, noticing that Michael himself was also armed with a variety of weapons. “Standby out here, just in case. Lindsay’ll let you know if we run into trouble.” They nodded at each other in understanding, the doors to the cargo bay sliding open in front of them. “Let’s go.”

Alfredo could only give a tiny nod himself, following behind the commander as they stepped into the hold. It was bright, the lights at full blast to make sure there weren’t any shadows to hide in. But that wasn’t enough to stop him from being nervous. His hands didn’t shake, but he was chewing on his bottom lip so much that it was starting to bleed, and every little noise made him raise the harpoon gun and aim. 

“You wanna tell me what’s in those crates?” Trevor asked as they worked their way towards the center of the hold, checking every nook and cranny as Lindsay kept them updated on any movement around them that was out of the ordinary. “I was fine with not knowing before, but-“ He was cut off by the sound of wood scraping against metal, dull thuds as whatever was inside of them grew restless. “But because of things like that, I can’t let things slide anymore.”

The other man hesitated, continuing to bite at his lip, but Trevor’s gaze was piercing and it made his blood run cold against his tongue. Nothing got past the commander, even the smallest of lies. “Plants. It’s plants.”

“Plants don’t move like that,” Trevor pointed out, and Alfredo couldn’t exactly refute his claim. “Now, what the hell is actually in these crates?”

“I’m being serious. It’s plants.” A beat of silence, more piercing stares, before he continued. “Mutant plants that were definitely overfed a ton of fertilizer and who only knows what else, but… Yeah. Plants.”

“Mutant… Plants?” The words fell slowly off of Trevor’s tongue, processing what they meant at the same time they left his mouth. “Just how mutant, exactly?”

“Depends. Some of ‘em are still pretty plant-like, but… Others are getting pretty close to Audrey II territory.” 

“As much as I appreciate the comparison, I’d appreciate a little more seriousness even more.” Alfredo murmured an apology, but Trevor’s silence made it clear that the time for talking was over. 

After a few more paces they reached the crates, specially marked to make it stand out from all of the other similar crates, but only to the trained eye. Sure enough, there was some banging coming from inside the crate, as well as some angry hissing, but it wasn’t exactly loud enough to be heard from the engineering deck, especially not over the roar of the engines either. If Gavin was able to hear it, it had to be something much bigger, much louder. 

They began to inspect the crates one by one, making sure each one was intact and tightening whatever screws had started to get knocked loose by the thrashing within. All the noise and movement had Trevor on edge, his heart racing and normally steady hands shaking each time he had to touch one of the boxes. 

“That’s all of them. Nine crates, all secure.”

Alfredo frowned, eyebrows furrowed together as his eyes flicked from crate to crate. “There should be ten here.” They both counted, and re-counted, and counted one last time for good measure. Sure enough, there were only nine crates with no sign of a tenth. 

“Lindsay, double-check the manifest for me?” They did, which only confirmed that there was a crate missing. Trevor’s face mirrored the pilot’s then, concern etched deep into their features. “Alfredo? Any explanations?” 

“Alright, this isn’t my fault.”

“I’m not saying it is, but I would still like an explanation. Or at least some way to make sense of… This.”

Alfredo shifted, uncomfortable under Trevor’s gaze. “Well… Best guess is that… Either Geoff miscounted or left one off the ship, or-“

“-Which is pretty likely-“

“-Or one of the plants escaped. Which is also pretty likely. Maybe even more likely.”

“Well. Shit.” They both hoisted up their weapons simultaneously, knowing that they couldn’t afford to get caught off guard by anything. “Lindsay, lock down the cargo bay! Nothing gets in or out of here, not even the two of us. If anything starts moving other than us or those crates, you tell us immediately, got it?”

“Sure thing, commander. There’s just… One teensy-tiny problem.”

Trevor groaned loudly, looking up at the speaker. “And that is what, exactly?”

“Well, you see… There’s so much movement in those crates that… I kinda can’t see any movement anywhere else in the ship, and especially not in the cargo bay. It throws my whole system off, I can’t see anything.”

He whirled around to look at Alfredo upon hearing that, rifle still raised, and for a second he thought that the commander was going to shoot him right where he stood. The thought crossed Trevor’s mind, he wasn’t going to lie about that, but he decided that it would be unwise. He needed someone to watch his back, even if that someone was the one who got him into this mess. Turning back around and marching on, he let out a very slow, very shaky breath as he tried to control his anger. 

“Alfredo?”

“Yes, sir?”

“You and I are going to stay in here and keep watch on the rest of these crates to make sure no more of these…” He trailed off, glaring back at the crates before his gaze was back on Alfredo. “Things escape before we reach our destination. Michael and Jack are going to be patrolling the rest of the ship to keep everyone else safe. I don’t know what the hell these things are capable of, and I’m assuming you don’t either, so we need to be on high alert. Got it?” 

Alfredo nodded quickly. “Yes sir.”

“Good. Now… Lindsay, how far away are we?”

“We’re about a day out. I’ll try and push the engines so we can get there faster but-”

“Don’t bother, I’d rather not blow the ship. Alfredo and I are just going to have to find some way to keep ourselves occupied.” 

A day stuck in the cargo hold with the commander, who was very armed and very angry, really wasn’t ideal for Alfredo, but he acknowledged that there were worse punishments he could be given. He was just glad that he’d already opted to put his cut towards the ship, because there was no way he’d be given all of it after this. 

----------------------------------------------------

“Got any sevens?”

“No, go fish. Got any threes?”

“Nope, go fishin’! Got any… Got any aces?”

There was a long moment of silence, and then: “This would be easier with cards. I don’t remember what I have or don’t have anymore.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

It had been several hours since the start of the cargo bay lockdown, and they were already running out of things to do. They’d searched the hold over and over until they found scrapes in the floor that lead to a splintered crate at the far end, but nothing that told them where the plant monster had run off to. Then, they reinforced all the remaining crates, doing what they could to make sure nothing else would try to escape and end up succeeding in their attempt. After that, they’d sort of run out of things to do to keep busy. “Imaginary Go Fish” was only entertaining the first time (though Trevor would disagree), and Lindsay had shut off all their sensors in the hold in an attempt to get everything else back in working order so they could help Michael and Jack. Not only were they cut off from the rest of the crew, but they were alone for the next twenty or so hours. 

“At least we’re down here with the supplies so we don’t starve,” Alfredo muttered, trying to find any possible brightside to the situation. 

Trevor hummed in agreement, standing up and shaking out his arms. “Yeah, at least we won’t starve,” he agreed, the slightest hint of mockery in his tone. He had yet to outright voice his displeasure, but he was sure Alfredo could put the pieces together. After stretching, he checked his watch. “Time for another walk around. You stay put.” 

Slumping against a crate, Alfredo nodded, making sure he had his own weapon in hand as Trevor readied his own and walked off. They did this every half hour or so. Trevor made him do the first few, but he must’ve gotten tired of sitting around because it was the first time he’d offered to go. 

His footsteps echoed off the thick metal walls of the hold, and Alfredo listened intently to them. The only other sounds were the dull thuds of the contained plant monsters and the usual creaks and groans of the Morrigan itself, but those were easy to tune out once they droned on long enough. When the footsteps stopped, it was like the hold went completely silent. 

He was immediately on edge, standing up quickly and hoisting the harpoon gun up as he went. “Trevor?” he called, taking a few hesitant steps forward. When there wasn’t an immediate response, he took a few more, heading towards where he’d last heard the other’s footsteps come from. 

“I’m fine,” Trevor called back after a minute, “Just stay there, everything’s fine!”

“You don’t sound too sure,” was the response he got, and he just let out a huff. 

It was true, he wasn’t too sure, because in a corner Alfredo had surely overlooked on his previous patrols, the plant had taken over. Its thorny vines stretched across the floors and up the walls, writhing and squirming as it supported the weight of what looked like a giant flower bud but… Flowers weren’t supposed to have teeth. That was the one thing that had been consistent across the planets he’d been to. Plants didn’t have teeth. “I’m not,” he muttered to himself, wondering why the hell he’d agreed to take this job in the first place. You needed a pilot, he reminded himself as he took slow, careful steps back in an effort not to startle the thing. But I don’t think we needed one this badly.

“What’s going on? I’m coming over there.”

Trevor turned around slowly, carefully, just in time to see Alfredo running up. “No, don’t!” he shouted, putting a hand up to stop him, but something stopped him instead. 

A vine wrapped itself tight around his arm, the thorns digging in deep and latching on. It had been resting peacefully before, able to slumber without being disturbed by the occasional movement and noise from the two men, but Trevor’s sudden shouting had woken it up. And it was not pleased. 

He cried out in pain, instinctively trying to pull his arm free, but it only made the vine hold on even tighter. It reminded him of those finger traps Jeremy had brought on board one time: the more he pulled, the more it constricted his arm. But unlike those finger traps, it had no intentions of letting go once Trevor relaxed. 

Alfredo stood there in shock, eyes wide and frozen in place until the commander barked out an order. He didn’t even register the words, just that he needed to move, and he needed to move now. Gavin was going to kill him for the damage later, but there was no time to aim the harpoon gun properly before he was pulling the trigger. Though it missed the bud by a few feet, the harpoon did manage to sever a few of its tendrils. The plant monster let out an ear-piercing shriek, untangling itself from Trevor in order to start scaling the wall and worming its way into an air vent. The metal of the grate covering it bent and snapped from the force, and the ends of several vines hung out through the remaining slats. 

“Nice work,” Trevor managed through gritted teeth, trying to pretend like his arm wasn’t bleeding as badly as it was and didn’t hurt nearly as much as it did. Alfredo saw through the act in less than a second, retrieving the harpoon before dropping the gun and approaching Trevor. 

“That looks… Bad. I should’ve given you my jacket,” he muttered, pushing his sleeve up to get a better look at the damage. Bruises were already starting to form where the vine itself had been, and there were several grisly cuts from the thorns, all bleeding pretty badly. “Fuck… Lindsay! We need Michael down here, now!”

Trevor pushed Alfredo’s hands off him before sinking to his knees and gripping his arm, trying to cover at least one of the cuts in an effort to stop the flow of blood. Whatever wasn’t soaked up by his shirt dripped down to the floor, creating a pretty sizable puddle beneath him that began to soak into the knees of his pants as well. “They can’t hear you… They shut down all their sensors for this room, remember?” There were a lot of flaws in their plan, he saw that now. But at least he knew that the beast was for sure in the cargo bay, not that there was anything that could be done about that right then. “There’s… There may be some emergency supplies by the door, Michael makes sure there’s some in every room.” Accidents happened everywhere, and the lad hated having to run all the way back to the medbay for a bandage every time someone got hurt. 

Once Alfredo had retrieved the medkit, he helped Trevor to his feet and guided him back to their makeshift campsite. The further they were from that vent, the better off they were, though the plant monster would easily be able to follow the trail of blood Trevor left behind right to them. They sat down together there, Trevor still clutching his arm as he leaned back against the crates with a soft groan. He was feeling a bit woozy, 

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna bandage this up for now, hopefully that stops the bleeding, or at least slows it,” Alfredo murmured, popping the kit open and breathing out an audible sigh of relief when he saw that it was fully stocked. “Thank the stars,” he breathed, almost smiling as he grabbed a roll of gauze and began to wrap up Trevor’s arm. He was silent as he worked, faltering when the other spoke up. 

“Can we please talk?” he asked softly, eyes meeting Alfredo’s when he looked up. “I’d really like something else to focus on other than the pain.” 

“I thought you were mad at me?”

“I was… I am, but… I’d still rather talk than sit in silence.”

“Oh.” He continued to wrap his arm, securing it with some tape once he was done. “What would you like to talk about?”

“Anything. Something. I really don’t care.” He held his arm to his chest, cradling it in an effort to soothe the pain. 

“Well, how’d you become in charge of your own ship?” Alfredo asked, settling in beside him and leaning against the crate as he began to rummage through the medkit. 

Trevor chuckled quietly, turning his head to look over at the other. “Now that is a very long story, but… I guess we’ve got the time.” He checked his watch, taking a deep breath. “I worked on a lot of ships that treated their crews like shit. Treated their ships like shit too, honestly. I bailed on one before my contract was up once I had enough credits saved up, hid at one of the starports until they stopped searching for me, and then… I bought a ship of my own. It was small at first, real small. Couldn’t do much with it, couldn’t really go anywhere with it either, but I managed to swing a few small jobs.” He stared off into the distance as he spoke, looking out the small port windows at the stars outside the ship. It had been a while since he’d thought about any of this, even longer since he’d talked about it, but there was a fond smile as he did. “I don’t miss any of the bullshit at the start.”

Alfredo listened intently, a small stack of things from the kit forming in front of him. More gauze, disinfectant, rags, a suture and thread. He wasn’t really thrilled about the prospect of stitching up Trevor, but those wounds were so deep that something more needed to be done. “I don’t think anyone here misses the bullshit at the start. I sure had my fair share.” 

“How did you get started, then?”

“I used to be a pilot back on Earth. I was good at my job, really good, so they bumped me up to piloting shuttles between the colonies. After a while, I guess I got sick of seeing the same places over and over again,” he explained, letting out a soft ‘a ha!’ as he pulled a bottle of painkillers from the bottom of the kit. “Lotta ships need good pilots, and they paid better than the other gig, so I jumped ship, so to speak.” Shaking out a few pills, he passed them to Trevor who swallowed them down dry with a grimace. Anything to help the pain. “Never really wanted to own my ship, seemed like too much work, but… I was cool with piloting them. I get paid to see space, how cool is that?”

“It is a lot of work,” he agreed, still trying to get the pills down. “Sometimes, it’s too much work. But at the end of the day, it’s all worth it.” 

Alfredo was quiet for a few long moments, the silence hanging heavy between them. “Will this be worth it?” 

“Yes.” Trevor didn’t need to think about his answer as much as Alfredo had needed to think about his question. “Absolutely. You seem surprised.”

“But you got hurt. That thing could have killed you!”

“But it’s still in the cargo bay, and it didn’t hurt anyone in my crew. Better me than anyone else.” His crew was his family, and if he had to get hurt to keep them safe, so be it. It was a small price he was willing to pay. 

Alfredo scoffed and shook his head. “I don’t get you.”

“What?”

“No commander gives this much of a shit about their crew.” No captain gave their crew an equal cut, they always took more for themselves. No captain would sacrifice themself for their crew, they always forced their crew to do the sacrificing for them. No captain would adopt a broken AI like one would a stray cat. It just didn’t happen. “Not a single one. I’ve been trying to figure out your game from the start, and I just… I can’t.” The laughing only added to his confusion. 

“I know. No other commander does, but I do. And you’re gonna have to get used to it, Alfredo. All those assholes on the other side of the door are my family, and I’d sooner die for them than let anything bad happen to them,” he stated firmly, making sure the other was looking at him and meeting his eyes as he spoke. “There’s no game, no ulterior motive. You’re part of that family now too, so you’re just gonna have to learn to live with it.”

It had been a long time since Alfredo had been a part of any family, since anyone had accepted him so completely so quickly. While he didn’t fully trust Trevor just yet, he trusted him more than he had a few minutes ago. “Alright. I’ll learn to live with it.”

----------------------------------------------------

Alfredo was silent as he worked to stitch up Trevor’s arm, hands steady as he did so. He’d spent some time cleaning up the now dried blood, disinfecting the wounds and getting a better look at them. Some of the cuts were only surface wounds, already scabbed over and barely noticeable, but others were pretty gruesome. He didn’t say anything because he didn’t want to freak Trevor out, but he was pretty sure that he could see bone in a few of them. “Michael’s gonna have to redo these, but they’ll hold for now,” he murmured, tying off the last one and bandaging him up again before things got too bloody again. 

“How bad am I, doc? Am I gonna make it?” Trevor asked, really glad that he’d taken some more painkillers because he couldn’t imagine all of those stitches would feel great in a few minutes. 

“Yeah,” Alfredo said with a soft smile, taping down the end of the gauze. “You’ll make it.” I hope. 

----------------------------------------------------

As hour six rolled around, the comms hissed with static and a few musical beeps, surprising Alfredo and making him lift his head. He and Trevor had decided that sleeping was a pretty good way to kill time, so the commander had ended up fast asleep and slumped with his head on Alfredo’s shoulder. The other man hadn’t been so lucky, wide awake and checking every few minutes to make sure that he hadn’t gone and died on him. 

“Lindsay?” he asked softly, hoping they’d see the situation and match his tone. 

“Alfredo! What the hell happened?” They could see everything the second their cameras were back online: The broken vent grate, the vines coming out of the grate, the severed tendrils on the floor, the puddle and trail of brown dried blood leading to Alfredo and a very injured Trevor. “Is he… He’s not dead, is he?”

“No, he’s alive. We found the plant, and it… It got him good,” he explained, tipping his head forward to make sure Trevor was still asleep. “I patched him up, but… He’s gonna need a lot more than some stitches.”

“I’ll get Michael to come down-”

“No,” he stated, and Lindsay let out a soft scoff of indignation. “No one else comes down here. If you lift the lockdown, that thing’ll get free run of the station through the vents. We’ll be fine… We’ve got food and water, this kit’s got enough supplies to last us, and… I think as long as we leave it alone, it’ll leave us alone.” 

Lindsay hummed as they scanned the room. The plants in the crates had calmed down a little bit, and as far as they could tell the one in the vents was perfectly still, only shifting every now and then but not making any grand movements. “What should we do, then?”

“Make sure everyone else evacuates the ship the second we touch down and send Michael down here with a flamethrower. We’ll take a bit of a hit to our pay because we’ll be short a crate, but I don’t care. I want that thing dead.” 

“I’m sure the commander feels the same way… Are you sure he’s gonna be okay?” They asked, dimming the lights a little. If it was dark, the plants would probably stay calmer. It would make sleeping a little easier for the pair as well. 

Alfredo bit his lip, shrugging a shoulder before shaking his head. “No, but I’m trying to be optimistic.” He leaned his head back against the crate and closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of relief he’d been holding for far too long. With Lindsay back, it meant he wasn’t alone. There was a buffer between him and the commander, someone to help fill the silence. 

They were quiet for a few minutes as they relayed information to the rest of the crew, before the comms crackled in the hold once more. “You should try and sleep too, ‘Fredo. Now that we know where it is, I can keep an eye on it.” 

“No, I gotta make sure he’s still breathing.”

“I can keep an eye on him too. The crates are quiet, so all my sensors are in working order. His heart rate is normal, if a bit weak, but he’s breathing fine. You should rest.”

He didn’t really have the energy to argue with them further, so he relented. “Wake us in a few hours. I’m gonna have to change his bandages and clean those wounds. Michael’ll kill me if I let those get infected.”

“Yes, he will.”

----------------------------------------------------

As hour twelve rolled around, Lindsay brightened the lights slowly and chimed softly to wake the pilot and the commander. They hoped that the plants wouldn’t be disturbed as well, but considering how long it took the pair to wake up, they weren’t really too concerned. 

“Trevor,” Alfredo said softly, jostling him gently with his shoulder. His ass and his neck ached from sleeping on the hard metal floor in such an awkward position, and he was sure that the other man would need another round of painkillers too. “Trevor, c’mon man. Wake up.” 

He did so with great reluctance, groaning softly as he registered several different aches and pains. “Was this really necessary?”

“Yeah, it was. Gotta change your bandages so Michael won’t have to cut off your arm,” he said, encouraging him to sit up before reaching for the supplies in front of him. “Or my head.”

Trevor laughed softly, starting to stretch his arms out over his head before he stopped short, wincing and clutching his bandaged arm to his chest. “Fuck… I thought that was a dream,” he muttered, eyes squeezed shut. 

“I wish it was,” Alfredo sighed, “But while you were sleeping, we got Lindsay back. So that’s good, at least. Told them everything. They wanted to send Michael down here, but I told them not to.”

“And why the hell did you do that?” Trevor winced as Alfredo started to unwrap the gauze. Despite how careful he was being, it still pulled at the cuts uncomfortably. 

“Because,” he started, murmuring an apology when he saw him wince and trying to go slower. “If the lockdown gets lifted, that thing can go through the vents and go anywhere it wants, which is bad.”

Trevor hummed in agreement, but it was reluctant. He didn’t like knowing Alfredo had been giving orders while he’d been asleep, even if they were the same ones he would’ve given. “What’d you tell them to do, then?”

“Keep the lockdown going, evacuate everyone once we land, and then send Michael down here. With a flamethrower.”

“Good thinking.”

“Why, thank you.” 

They fell into a comfortable silence then, Alfredo removing the last of the gauze and cleaning up his arm. The bleeding had stopped, thankfully, so now it was just a focus on preventing infection, which he hoped would be easy enough. It would be even easier once they got back on solid ground, when Michael could actually get in here and kill the thing. Bullets probably wouldn’t do the trick, they’d just piss Gavin off by causing damage to the ship, but fire was pretty damn effective in every circumstance. 

“Lindsay?” Trevor called softly, feeling instantly comforted when he heard their voice over the speakers. “Where is the thing? Still in the vent?”

“Yep. Still in the vent. It’s almost cute like this, even if it did try to eat you.”

“It didn’t… It didn’t try to eat me.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever you say, commander. Oh, and Matt would like me to tell you that he thinks it’s hilarious you got your ass kicked by a plant.”

Trevor huffed, rolling his eyes and sinking back against the crates. Even when he was isolated from his crew, they still found a way to pester him. 

Beside him, Alfredo shrugged off his jacket, flipping it inside out so the soft lining was visible before balling it up. “You should get some more rest,” he said as he held it out to Trevor. “It’s not much, but it’ll be better for your neck than the crate.”

He hesitated a moment before taking it, sinking right down to the floor to lay flat since he had a pillow now. “It’s weird seeing you without your jacket on.” Alfredo had been wearing it from the moment he’d met him until now, he hadn’t seen him with it off once. 

“He even wears it to bed,” Lindsay piped up, laughing as Alfredo’s face went as red as the leather. 

“I do not!” He shouted defensively, glaring up at the ceiling.  “It’s just part of my style, that’s all.” 

“Relax,” Trevor chuckled, reaching out blindly to pat Alfredo’s arm. He missed and hit leg instead, but neither of them said anything. “I wasn’t making fun of you. It’s a good style, I like it.” He turned his head, looking up at Alfredo with a small smile. 

The other couldn’t help but smile back, getting comfortable against the box behind him. He didn’t know why that compliment made him feel so warm, but he was lucky that his face was already red from Lindsay’s teasing so it didn’t give him away. “Thanks, Trev.”

“Anytime, Fredo.” 

----------------------------------------------------

The hours rolled by easily, the pair spending most of them asleep because there wasn’t much else to do. They woke up a few times so Alfredo could change the bandages, munching on some rations at one point since the last meal they’d had was breakfast that morning. Chatting with Lindsay was another good way to pass the time, too. They were able to keep the crew updated on the situation down in the hold, and keep the commander updated on things going on on the other side of the door. There wasn’t much going on, just a lot of worry, but Trevor still didn’t want to be out of the loop. 

Once they’d slept as much as they could and talked to Lindsay until there was nothing more to talk about, they decided to do the only thing they could to pass the final few hours before the ship landed: Talk to each other. 

“You said you used to work on Earth. What was that like?” Trevor asked, looking down at Alfredo. They swapped who got to use the jacket-pillow every couple of hours, and since they weren’t going to be sleeping anymore Trevor had decided to surrender it back to its original owner (even though it was still technically his turn for another thirty minutes). 

“You’ve never been?” he asked, sticking an arm beneath his head to prop himself up as he looked back at the commander, who shook his head. “I mean, it was fine? I guess? Kinda boring compared to space. The sky was always the same, and there were way too many people. Have you seriously never been to Earth?”

“No, I grew up out in the Terra 2 colony. Then I got sucked up into a spacer crew, and that was it. Never saw any reason to go once I got the Morrigan, and now without a warp drive we’re too far out.”

“I’m shocked a job hasn’t taken you there, people there are always looking for stuff smuggled in from the far reaches,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. Customs was a bitch to get by, but he still had a few buddies down there who’d be willing to let them through. He was sure of it. “Once we get that drive, we’ll pick up a few jobs that’ll take us there.”

“Whatever you say, man. But you didn’t exactly make it sound worth the hype.”

“Oh, it’s absolutely not, but still. I can’t believe you’ve never been!” 

Talking to Trevor was a lot easier than it had been before. He wasn’t as scared of him, and a lot of the distrust had faded. The feeling was mutual, as well. The commander wasn’t angry at Alfredo anymore, because ultimately, none of this was his fault. He was the one who hadn’t checked in on the cargo sooner, he was the one who’d startled the monster, all of this fell on his shoulders because it was his ship and he was responsible for everything that happened on it.

“I’m sorry,” Trevor said out of nowhere, almost startling Alfredo with the suddenness of it. “I’m sorry I blamed all this on you.”

“It’s fine.” He hadn’t been expecting an apology from the commander. Maybe a month or two on bathroom cleaning duty, sure, but not an apology. “We both had our fuckups in this mess.”

“We did, but it’s unfair to blame the whole thing on you. Most of it, sure?” Alfredo cut him a look, and he just laughed. “Kidding. I’m kidding! Don’t give me that. It’s really more like… Fifty/fifty.”

“Sixty/forty. You’re the sixty.”

“Yeah, okay. Fair enough.” 

They grinned at each other, oblivious to the way the ship began to creak and groan around them as Lindsay initiated the landing sequence. The plants in the crates kicked up again, but the one in the vents was still. 

“You know what? You’re alright, Fredo. Gavin was right about you.” 

Alfredo’s face matched his jacket all over again, and he had to fight hard to get the words out despite how flustered he was. Trevor hadn’t called him by any sort of nickname until now, it made him feel good to know that the commander was finally warming up to him. “What… What did he say about me, exactly?”

“That you were the best of the best. And he was right. Normally he’s not right about these things, but… He nailed it with you.”

“You sure you’re not still woozy from blood loss?” Alfredo asked, arching an eyebrow as he sat up, meeting Trevor’s eyes. “Because I know we just did that whole heartfelt apology thing, but… I definitely almost got you killed.”

He shook his head fervently. “No, you didn’t. You saved my life.” 

“Well, I wasn’t going to let you die.” 

“And I owe you big time for that.”

The ship jostled as it landed on uneven earth, and Alfredo grabbed onto Trevor quickly to prevent him from sliding around with the crates around them. Even as things settled, he didn’t let go, hearing something hiss in annoyance from the far end of the cargo hold. 

“Lindsay… Please tell us Michael’s on his way,” Trevor said, sinking back into the pilot in an effort to hide as he scrambled to grab the harpoon gun. 

“He’s outside the door, we’re just waiting for everyone to be off the ship so I can lift the lockdown. I suggest staying out of his way… He’s been wanting to use that thing for the last eighteen hours, and I don’t think anything’s gonna get in his way.”

“If he dies, Alfredo’s the new medical officer.”

“Noted.”

Using a flamethrower while they were in flight was unwise because of the oxygen rich environment, but back on terra firma it was the perfect weapon for dealing with unruly plant monsters. Michael’s cackles of delight echoed off the walls, mixing with the roar of the weapon and the shrieks of the plant as it burned. The noises kicked off another escape attempt in the other crates, but the reinforcements they’d made held firm. Only a few crates of supplies got caught up in the crossfire, and Michael was relatively unharmed aside from the ash staining his lab coat. 

Alfredo let the harpoon drop from his hands once he realized he wouldn’t be needing it, instead helping Trevor to his feet and keeping him steady as they made their way to the bay doors. “Michael,” he said, watching as the man kept scorching the charred remains. “Michael!” He stopped firing quickly, whirling around with wide eyes. “Stop dicking around, Trevor needs help.” 

“A thank you would’ve been nice,” Michael muttered as he dropped the weapon, knowing he’d need his hands free to help Trevor. 

“Thank you, Michael. Now help him, please?”

“Yeah, yeah. Lindsay told me that you were trying to steal my job, I just hope you didn’t make things worse,” he said as he swapped places with Alfredo, supporting Trevor’s weight to make sure he wouldn’t fall. “Alright, Trevor-boy, let’s get you to the infirmary.” He started to lead him out of the cargo hold, and Alfredo watched them go for a second before turning to start cleaning the mess they’d left behind up. 

Trevor stopped after a few paces, glancing over his shoulder. “You’re not coming?” he asked, the smallest hint of a frown etched into his features. 

“Uh.” Alfredo blinked, not sure how to answer. “No?”

“Yes, you are. C’mon.”

“Why?”

“I need someone there for moral support. Michael’s not as gentle as you are and I need someone’s hand to hold while he patches me up.” Trevor cracked a grin despite the fact that he wasn’t telling a joke, and Alfredo mirrored the expression after a moment to process exactly what he’d said. “Come on, I don’t have all day,” he insisted, holding out his hand towards him as Michael began to pull him along. 

Alfredo jogged to catch up to them, abandoning the task at hand in favor of taking Trevor’s hand. He was happy to have escaped the cargo bay alive, and even happier to know that he was back in the commander’s good graces. Their relationship was different, stronger and a lot friendlier than it had been now that they were no longer wary of each other. Trevor couldn’t think of a single member of the crew that he would’ve rather gone through that ordeal with, either. 

“Thanks for not letting the boss die, Fredo,” Michael said, cutting into the silence once they reached the infirmary. 

“Yeah, thanks for not letting me die, Fredo,” Trevor agreed, smiling kindly at him and giving his hand a squeeze. 

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

[musingsofsaturn]

The Most Amazing Dream | Kristanna Week

Fandom: Frozen, Frozen II

Ship: Anna/Kristoff

Words: 1,200+

Rating: K

Summary: Kristoff contemplates the future while on a sleigh ride. Beside him, Anna enjoys the most amazing dream.

Author’s Note: Hello! Today’s prompt is all about jealousy, nature, and naivety, and while I just couldn’t bring myself to write something as troubling as jealousy for these two, I do hope you enjoy a bit of naive nature fluff! At first I wasn’t very happy with this one, but after some proofreading and playing around with it, I think it’s pretty sweet. :)

~ Saturn

[Cover photo is an edit I made using a screencap by Humphry02 on the fandom Wiki.]

Sven kept the sleigh moving forward at a steady pace, cutting through familiar forests of ancient spruces as the reindeer stepped confidently and lithely through the snow. Kristoff had given up on steering long ago. He could trust his companion to find his way to the cabin that had long-been his home on his solo harvesting trips.

This time, though, he was solo no more.

Anna had been exhausted. She took to being queen like a duck took to water. After all, she had been trained for it. But weeks of state visits, poring over important documents, and answering to disputes from every corner of the kingdom had turned into months, and finally an entire year had passed. It had taken its toll.

She was still vibrant and lively outwardly, always the picture-perfect regent that he knew she would be, but when it was just the two of them, she had expressed her stress and tiredness to Kristoff in a weary voice that broke his heart.

Eager to ease some of that burden, Kristoff hadn’t allowed her to protest when he decided she needed a break. Her efforts to refuse him had been weak at best. Even she knew it was the best idea. everyone in the palace had been informed that the Queen was to take a week-long break from royal duties to visit the mountains with her fiancé. She was only to be disturbed in the most catastrophic of circumstances. In her absence, her most trusted advisor would see to matters of diplomacy and admin, and all her other duties would be waiting for her when she returned, well-rested and ready to resume.

Kristoff picked her up bridal-style and placed her gently atop the blankets in the sleigh. She giggled and tried to squirm away from him to seat herself as he goaded, “Until the end of this week, you won’t have to lift a finger. Or toe.” He flicked an affectionate finger over her nose. Afterwards, when she was properly settled and he clambered in beside her, he kissed her cheek tenderly and stated simply, “Let me take care of you.”

“Always,” she replied, gazing up at him with those blue eyes filled with so much love and warmth that he felt he could burst from it. She nestled herself into his side, and he wrapped one strong arm over her shoulder as he took the reins and directed Sven out of the kingdom.

Succumbing to her tiredness, Anna fell asleep soon after their departure. Part of him thought her almost-immediate snores were adorable. The other part wondered how someone as lithe and small as Anna could produce sounds as loud and inhuman as... that.

Kristoff hadn’t disturbed her. Rest was the whole point of this trip, after all. Instead, he listened to her heavy breaths and little murmurs, relaxed into the steady rhythm of the sleigh, and considered whether this was what life would be like for the two of them now.

In the beginning of their relationship, he’d felt like a fish out of water. He didn’t understand the table manners that came so easily to diplomats, struggled to hold his own in a ballroom against hundreds of dignitaries, and far preferred nights spent in a stable to being tucked up in the finery of a palace bed. His uncertainty and insecurity had weighed heavy on him for that first year after he’d met her.

But he’d learned. In the years that followed, he’d undergone tutoring, dance lessons, elocution classes, and more. Anna had said that it was completely unnecessary, that she’d love him even if he ate from a bowl on the floor, but the truth was that he was doing it for himself. He needed to feel sure of himself in this strange new world, because if he had his way, he’d be in it for a long time.

Kristoff had blanched when he first learned that Anna was going to be queen. No thought had filled him with as much terror as that one seemed to. In actuality, it suited both of them far more than their previous situation. Anna did thrive as queen, and, with his newfound understanding of the ways of royalty, he thrived at her side. Arendelle was in competant and caring hands with their new Queen and her devoted fiancé.

In truth, he was tired too. He had duties of his own, and did everything he could to support Anna as well. Now though, finally alone and with no to-do list the length of the ballroom waiting for them, Kristoff started to relax.

Their wedding was arranged for six months’ time, and preparations were well underway. After the wedding, they had plans for a diplomatic ‘honeymoon tour’ of the neighbouring kingdoms. He knew Anna was looking forward to travelling and seeing more of the world, and he was looking forward to standing proudly at her side as she did.

Following all that, he would be Prince Consort, with only one important role: provide an heir. He wondered what their children would like. Would they be blonde, or feisty little redheads? Would they inherit Kristoff’s broad frame, or Anna’s infinite collection of freckles? Would they be quiet and soft spoken, or boisterous and clumsy? There was so much uncertainty, and the thought of being a parent absolutely terrified him. In the same breath, it gave him a rush of delight as well. He knew one thing: those little children would be so, so loved.

He imagined their children growing up, blossoming into wonderful young princes and princesses. They’d be unruly toddlers, storming the palace and causing havoc. Then inqusitive children, desperate to explore and learn. Then - oh, gods - sullen teenagers, rebelling against the slightest rule. Then capable young adults, ready to face whatever the world threw at them with courage and love.

Perhaps he was being naive, and he was certainly getting ahead of himself. But the thought of this future that he never could have imagined before, of raising a small family into the capable heirs that the kingdom deserved with the love of his life with him all the time, was one that filled him with so much warmth and excitement that he didn’t care if he was being ridiculous.

Kristoff broke out of his reverie to see the snow-covered trees beginning to thin. Up ahead, he knew there would be a clearing with a hot spring and the cabin that would keep them sheltered for the week.

“Good job, Sven. That must be record time, buddy.” The reindeer only chuffed out a friendly sound in response. Kristoff knew what it meant. “Yeah, I’m happy to be here too.”

Beneath his arm and a bundle of thick blankets, he felt Anna stirring.

“Hi,” she mumbled, looking up at him as she blinked the sleep from her eyes.

“Hi.” He grazed her forehead with his lips, and she hummed softly in response.

“I’m feeling better already.” Anna smiled, leaning her head onto Kristoff’s chest. “I had the most amazing dream on the way,” she told him, “I dreamt that we were married, and had children - they were so cute, they looked just like you, but, like, little - and I dreamt how we were the most amazing parents and they grew up to be the most amazing children... except when they were teenagers. They were uncontrollable teenagers - I think they got that from me, but anyway- wait, I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”

Kristoff chuckled softly, pulling her in closer as the cabin came into view. “Don’t worry about it, feistypants. It sounds like it was a pretty wonderful dream.”

[shxrirogers]

When Love Falls- Tom Holland x Reader (Repost)

Summary: A mutual visit to the same park in New York City resulted in Tom fantasizing about being in a relationship with you. The only problem? He saw you, but you didn’t see him and you left before he worked up the courage to introduce himself. Now, Tom is faced with a particularly troubling dilemma: How is he supposed to find you again in a city of eight million people when he doesn’t even know your name?

Word Count: 2,719

Warnings/Triggers: None, just lots of fluff!

Author’s Note: Hi, everyone! After nearly a year of taking a fanfiction writing hiatus to focus on school and learning more about the craft of writing overall (I’m a creative writing major in school), I finally decided to revisit and edit my old fics using the new tools I’ve gathered in my classes. I plan on doing this for all of my writing to produce and publish the best art I can for you guys, so be on the lookout for some more pieces here soon! But, in the meantime, I have to thank @bicaptain​ for proofreading and providing constructive criticism for all four drafts of this fic that I had. I appreciate you, L!

Most normal relationships nowadays begin with a simple “hello” while standing in line to check out at the grocery store or liking a post on someone’s Instagram page. A dinner and movie date might ensue, or a long thread of DM conversations before a “going steady” label or a change in one’s social media bio to “in a relationship.” It’s the twenty-first century for Pete's sake; for a relationship to begin any other way would be peculiar and out of sorts.

But, to be fair, when had Tom Holland, or his life, ever been normal?

For him, your relationship began the moment he first laid eyes on you. He was filming a project in New York City for a couple of months during the summer and rented an apartment on the south side of the island, just a train ride away from the apartment was a dog park he discovered and frequented with Tessa, his Bull Terrier. The grass in the park was emerald green and well fertilized; oak trees that had to have been planted more than one hundred years ago spanned the perimeter of the park, extending up and into the open air, cutting jagged edges out of the atmosphere, begging to be climbed and explored. 

Which is exactly what Tom decided to do.

\What compelled him to perform such a task, he would never figure out, but he decided to blame it on a combination of his amateur parkour abilities and his boyish nature that was always poking at him to explore new places, no matter the risk or cost. On the first day he had a break from filming, he left Tessa at home so he could place his complete focus on the tree-climbing; he threw the hood of his sweatshirt up on his head and hopped aboard the subway for the short ride.

It was only natural of Tom to choose the tallest, most fruitful tree in the park to begin scaling once he got there. It probably should have proven more difficult than it was to get to the spot he decided he was going to make his own, but his early-twenty-something stature swung him up and about rather easily. The spot that he chose had multiple sturdy branches that sprouted out in all directions and provided the perfect nook to lay his blanket down and settle in with the book he brought, a book that certainly challenged his dyslexia but was too thrilling not to try and work through it. All was well for a couple of hours, what with the light breeze caressing his face and the warm sun shining through the leaves onto his skin, and he felt invisible, invincible, and at peace. He would have almost gone as far to say he was untouchable, even, like the anxiety of his career and the constant pressure of having to be something for someone all the time had completely disappeared. Tom was about thirty-seven pages into the mystery plot, thirty-seven pages into his blissful isolation, when the soft humming of an old Blink-182 song by a strong voice floated up into earshot. 

That’s when he peered down and saw you.

You were making yourself comfortable with your own blanket and book at the bottom of the trunk. Your golden retriever, Winston, was laying contently beside you. That damn Blink-182 song had been stuck in your head for days ever since you walked past a hole-in-the-wall bar that was hosting their annual emo night, and no matter how much you sang it, some notes on the pitch, others off-key, you couldn’t let it go. So, it followed you here as you settled under the very tree Tom was nestled in to get a head start on an assignment for school and allow for Winston to get out and enjoy the fresh air, but because of the overgrown branches and monstrous-sized leaves, you didn’t know he was there. You sat contently for a time combing through your work as Tom’s mouth grew increasingly more dry while looking at you. He knew he shouldn’t have been doing that, watching you while you were completely ignorant to his presence, but he was drawn to your aura, the radiating confidence, and gentleness that simultaneously oozed from your pores. He’d never experienced anyone like you before, and certainly not under these bizarre circumstances, either. 

How long his attention was gauged on you, he didn’t know, but when he snapped out of his lovestruck daze that had drool falling from the corner of his mouth, he realized he was watching you pack your bag and untie Winston from the tree to go on your way. Tom should have done something, damn it, but the thought of making himself known to you shrunk his confidence down to minuscule size and caused him to freeze. What in the world could he have possibly said: Hi, I’ve been watching you from up in this tree for hours and I think you are the loveliest girl I’ve ever seen, and I mean this in the least creepy way possible? Piss off. He could never. You wandered down the park trail and out of his sight and Tom’s heart fell at the realization that he’d never see you again.

If someone stuck a probe in Tom’s brain and used a projector to cast his thoughts on a loop, that person would only see you. You began to invade every aspect of his life: Tom closed his eyes in the shower to shampoo his hair, and there you were behind his eyelids. He passed an extra on set with a hair color similar to yours and his vision suddenly blurred. He heard your Blink-182 song in his dreams and woke up to believe you were right next to him in bed, curled up and sleeping soundly. It was the spaces between moments where you came to fruition-- sat next to him on the subway as someone else left the car, working behind the counter at the Starbucks on 8th Avenue right as walked out of the door with his coffee, passing him on the staircase as he made the climb to the floor of his apartment. You were there until you weren’t. A moment in time Tom couldn’t hold onto, a figment of his imagination that flashed before him and dissipated before he could resonate that he wasn’t actually looking at anything at all.

“You’ve got it bad, bro,” Harry stated over FaceTime one evening after twisting Tom’s arm behind his back to get him to explain why he couldn’t hold a proper conversation with his younger brother. “You saw that girl one time and you’re so preoccupied with her that you can’t even talk to me for more than thirty seconds before trailing off and drooling on yourself.”

“I am not drooling!” Tom protested although he couldn’t be sure, so he turned away from the camera to swipe at his chin just in case. No drool. A bastard, Harry was.

“You might as well be. You talk about her like she put the constellations in the sky herself.”

“C’mon, dude, you’ve got to give me a little bit more credit than that.”

Harry began fiddling with the cord of the headphones he was using to talk to Tom. “Hey, I didn’t say it was a bad thing to feel this way about someone, man. I just think you need to learn a bit more about her to ensure those feelings are constituted. Maybe you should, like, make yourself known to her first and say hello. Don’t keep looming over her head and ogling at her like a fucking weirdo.”

“Just how do you expect me to do that, Mr. “I Know Everything About Love?”

“Well, for starters, have you considered going back to the park to find her? She may be a frequent flyer.”

Tom sat silently, his eyes wandered off his phone screen in embarrassment.

“Ok,” Harry sighed, feigning annoyance. “Let’s start there. You should head to the park on the same day and time as before and make yourself comfortable near where you first saw her. I mean, this is a total shot in the dark and you really might never see her again and end up alone forever--”

“Dude!”

“--Or, you might just get lucky and see her again. But bro, a bit of advice: If you do see her, the only way you’re going to form any kind of relationship with her is by making sure she knows you exist. Say something to her if you see her.”

And somehow, by some crazy twist of fate, when Tom followed Harry’s advice and settled himself in his same spot in the same tree on another day of rest from filming, you showed up shortly after to settle in your same spot under the same tree. Tom couldn’t believe it. He was genuinely at a loss for words. The sound of your familiar humming of the same Blink-182 song gave your presence away before the sight of you did, and just like last time, he froze in his spot, eyes fixed on you, mouth slightly agape. To hell with the novel he was reading; you were far more pleasurable a sight to lay his eyes on than any story could have ever been, and he immediately began to wrestle with the incredibly creepy task he was performing. He just needed to go down there and say hello, to introduce himself as Harry said, but because fear was coursing through his veins, he simply watched you again for as long you were down there. This time, you were on the phone with your mother, and through this Tom was able to gather a shocking amount of information about you, including your mother’s name, your middle name, the latest summer classes you were taking at Columbia, and the fact that you have three younger brothers, just like Tom has, who seem to be knee-deep in their fair share of shenanigans, just like Tom’s brothers would be. The similarities between your two families made him smile, but before he was ready to see you go, you were up and on your way again with Winston, the connection Tom felt a fleeting moment he wished he could make tangible and wrap his fingers around forever.

For the next few weeks, Tom stayed up in the safety of his tree where he knew you wouldn’t find him. Every other Tuesday seemed to be the day was when his filming schedule opened up and allowed him to find you at the park by the tree. Every other Tuesday, for the next couple of weeks, Tom would fight to work up the courage to talk to you, and every other Tuesday for the next few weeks, he would lose. This was how he came to practice calling you his own.

However, for you, the relationship began a bit differently.

You’d been coming to the dog park with Winston on a bi-weekly basis whenever you didn’t have to be in summer classes or at work. You would have liked to have visited more often; a one bedroom apartment on campus wasn’t conducive with the lifestyle of an energetic five-year-old golden, but you made do with the free time you had and Winston wasn’t the type to protest. There was a particular tree you’d grown fond of (no pun intended) in the park for its sturdy trunk and strong frame, as well as the sweet shade it provided on humid New York summer afternoons, and you made it your temporary squatting place on the days you could make it out there.

On a Tuesday in mid-June, you settled down in your usual spot with a blanket to rest on and a bowl of water for Winston to lap up when he needed. The moment your back fell against the tree, you huffed, livid and nearly sick over the prospect of failing the physics test you took earlier that day. Science was never your thing to begin with, and why the hell did a liberal arts university require so many science classes of you to graduate, anyway?

It was a particularly windy day, so the constant rustling of the trees didn’t seem out of place against the bright blue sky, but it was about forty-five minutes into mindlessly scrolling on social media to distract yourself from your troubling emotions that you realized something was off: A shadow that was shaped oddly like a man was stretching across the grass in front of you. You peered over the top of your phone to look for the source of the shadow that was accompanied by the feeling of eyes blazing into your skin, but before you could stand up to search for the person that was causing your hair to stand on end, you felt a sharp object clip your shoulder while it fell to the ground. 

“Ow!” You shouted, your hand immediately crossing over your body to cover your already-bruising skin. The object bounced a couple of feet away before flopping inanimately, and it took you a couple of glances to register what had just come down on you.

“A book? What the-”

“Oh my goodness, sweetheart, I’m so sorry!”

A boyish voice with an English accent coming from above interrupted the expletive that almost rolled off your tongue, and you looked up to see that it belonged to a man scurrying frantically down the tree. You started to stand while the man’s sneaker-covered feet landed on the grass. He began dusting off his jeans until he realized you were cradling yourself in pain, and within that moment he came to your rescue, apologizing profusely.

“I was up in the tree reading and my leg began to fall asleep, so I shifted my bum and the book slid off my lap and fell onto you before I had a chance to catch it! Please forgive me, miss, it was a sincere accident.” That boy was telling lies and you knew by the way his pupils dilated with every inhale of breath he took between his long-winded sentences. Even so, though, his dilated pupils were swimming in golden brown irises, and as his palms grazed the bare skin on your arms to offer some kind of assistance for your injury, you felt your skin warm at the touch and the adrenaline in your bloodstream settle.

“Were you…” you paused, trying to process the fact that the shadow that had been observing you moments ago substantiated into someone rather handsome and quirky, “Were you up there watching me the whole time I’ve been here?”

“I, uh...See, well, I, uh--” 

So that’s a yes. “Have you been watching me the entire time I’ve been coming here?”

“No! Absolutely not. You see, I, uh, I heard that Blink-182 song you were humming and I… uh… I rather like that song, and so I, well, I…uh--”

“You’re a really bad liar, you know.”

The boy stopped stammering and sighed. “I know how incredibly creepy that sounds, but I promise I wasn’t stalking you. Every time you left the park, I didn’t follow; I had no idea where you were heading home to. I only observed you when you were under this tree because I was so enamored by you… Oh my gosh, this sounds so awful. Jesus…”

You giggled and felt your cheeks blush. “Is that slightly creepy? Yes. Absolutely. But is it also oddly endearing? You bet.”

The boy’s shoulders dropped in relief at the sound of your laughter as he extended his hand out to you. “Anyway, my name is Tom. I should have told you that the first time I saw you here. I apologize for the scare and for the bruised shoulder.”

You took his hand and gave it a firm shake, the warmth radiating through you again. 

“Y/N.”

“‘Y/N,’” Tom repeated. “Nice to officially meet you.”

“Likewise-- Er, uh, sorta.”

You both laughed and took a seat on your blanket.

“So, Tom, have you always had a knack for climbing trees? You seem to be pretty good at it, seeing as how you got so far up I couldn’t see you.”

He broke out into a grin. “Oh, love, you don’t even know the half of it.”

Xx.

If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting my plan to go to grad school and earn my MFA in creative writing by donating to my Ko-Fi here! All of the money will go toward graduate school expenses.

[hermannsthumb]

Hi! I know it must be an old prompt fill, but would you ever consider writing a follow-up on your newt/owen fill? If you felt like revisiting it, of course. Jealousy/pining with a happy ending is my cryptonite and I love your writing!

i actually DID write a followup ages ago but never posted it anywhere but my side twitter!!!!!!! so here it is now, wildly edited (bc i wrote it in like october lol), newt/owen harper WITH bonus hermann bc i love hermann :) how do i tag this ship? who knows. original newt/owen drabble here

18+/adult content/lemon (i really, really hate that thats necessary now) below cut! along w basic summary

jealousy! threeway! blowjobs! lab sex! dirty talk that proofreading over just now made me go “oh jeez”! and facials too. now i know why i didnt post this earlier LOL. sorry mr gorman

Newt’s always been pretty decent at giving blowjobs (everyone always tells him he’s got a big mouth, you know, gotta use it for something), and over time he’s actually started to really dig it. As of late, he’s started to really dig giving Owen blowjobs especially--he’s got a nice dick that Newt can only just fit his mouth around all the way, and he massages Newt’s scalp and tugs on his hair the whole time and calls Newt filthy things, and sometimes, nice things. It’s a great time for everyone involved, Newt figures.

Hermann left the lab some time ago to shower and go to bed--early for him, on a work night, but he’s been doing that a lot lately since Dr. Harper joined up with them--and the second the door shut behind him, Owen’s hand went to Newt’s ass.

“We’re not done with the dissection yet,” Newt protested weakly, but Owen squeezed his ass and licked a line up his neck and Newt’s dick jerked to life and, well. One thing led to another, and now they’re here, Owen pressed against Hermann’s chalkboard with his jeans and boxers pulled down to his thighs and his dick down Newt’s throat. “Pretty thing,” he moans, petting Newt’s hair, and Newt sucks eagerly and digs his nails into Owen’s hips before pulling off with a pop.

“Call me names,” Newt begs, voice raspy, before he sucks Owen into his mouth once more; Owen fucks his hips forwards, and Newt nearly chokes.

(No one’s ever called Newt dirty stuff in bed before, and it’s something he found out he’s into totally by accident. It was a week or so ago, in Newt’s bunk, and he and Owen had been fucking, like they usually do the second the work day ends, and Owen had been insinuating for not-the-first-time that he wouldn’t mind sharing Newt with Hermann. Far from mind it, actually. Narcissist.

“You’re pretty dead set on this, huh?” Newt panted out as he ground himself down. Owen was clinging to him so tight Newt could barely move, lips dragging messy down Newt’s neck, and Newt almost didn’t hear his grunt of an answer.

“Why not?” Owen began kneading at his ass, spreading him just a bit wider, and Newt sunk down and whined and tossed his head back. “You--oh--you clearly want to shag him, too.”

“I’ve never--” Newt stammered. “Uh--”

Owen’s eyebrows rose in surprise. Then, he was leering again, rolling into Newt with a deliberate languidness that made Newt want to scream. He snagged a handful of Newt’s hair and wrenched his head forward to hiss in his ear. “A cockslut like you--” Newt’s eyes widened “--never having had more than one man at a time? I don’t believe it.”

“Call me that again,” Newt whimpered. “Oh, fuck.”

“You’re a filthy cockslut,” Owen repeated, amused, half-laughing, and he tightened his grip in Newt’s hair and tugged harder. “A filthy, greedy--”

“I am,” Newt nearly shouted, writhing desperately, “oh, fuck, I am, I am--” He came, untouched, between their bodies, and Owen laughed disbelievingly and...that was that.)

“You’re a little slut,” he growls now, thrusting hard into Newt’s mouth, and Newt moans helplessly and palms himself through his jeans. “You’re a dirty little cockslut, Newt, and I’m going to come all over your pretty--”

There’s a tiny exclamation of surprise from behind them. Newt wonders--for a moment--who’s caught them and if they should stop, but Owen holds Newt’s head in place by his hair and continues fucking his face as if nothing’s wrong, so Newt lets him. Probably the janitor. Newt owes the guy big time at this point--he’ll get him a nice Christmas present when December rolls around. “Dr. Gottlieb,” Owen greets, absurdly casual, and Newt yanks himself off Owen’s dick, coughing, cheeks reddening in embarrassment, and he turns around.

“Hermann?!” he squeaks, and sure enough, there’s Hermann, slack-jawed, wide-eyed, frozen in the doorway of the lab. “Shit, sorry--I didn’t--I thought you were--”

Owen is infuriatingly blasé about it all. Bastard probably planned it. “Ah, come on,” Owen says, shooting Hermann a little wink. “He was enjoying the show. Been lurking there for nearly five minutes.”

“I was not!” Hermann exclaims, but his eyes are fixed on where Newt’s hand is still wrapped around the base of Owen’s dick, on Newt’s lips (slicked with precome and saliva). “I simply--I forgot--”

Owen’s fingers are still wound tightly in Newt’s hair, and he tugs on him until Newt, against his better judgment, takes him into his mouth once more. Maybe not entirely against his better judgement. The thought of having someone watch is kinda exciting. The thought of having Hermann watch is--well. That’s very, very exciting, more exciting than Newt cares to admit. Newt sucks and hallows his cheeks easily, moaning again, and Owen sighs. “Isn’t he a pretty thing?” he says, kneading at Newt’s scalp the way Newt likes. “C’mere.”

Newt expects Hermann to turn on his heels. Go back to bed. Probably even ignore him for the rest of the week, if not the month, if not forever. He doesn’t expect the door clicking shut, the clack of Hermann’s cane on the lab floor moving towards them. Newt doesn’t stop working his throat as he looks up; Hermann is above him now, too, blushing terribly, his free hand fumbling with the buckle of his very tented slacks, and Newt’s arousal spikes by about two-hundred percent and he pulls off Owen with spit trailing to his lips. “Holy shit, Hermann,” he says, at a loss for anything else to say.

“Newton,” Hermann stammers, stilling his hand, “is this--ah--”

Newt ignores Owen in favor of throwing all caution into the wind and pressing himself to the front of Hermann’s slacks and mouthing at him, and Hermann chokes out a gasp. “Newton,” he says, nearly dropping his cane as he throws out his right hand to grip the ledge of the chalkboard, “oh--”

Newt pulls Hermann’s dick--flushed red and leaking precome--out, then presses a single kiss to the tip. “Both of you,” Newt says, breathily, and then licks teasingly over the head (barely believing it). “I want both of you to--”

Owen catches on first and inches over, nudges his dick against Newt’s cheek, and Newt curls his other hand around it and licks off precome and remnants of his own saliva. He hears Hermann emit another odd, strangled noise, and Newt grins, leans back over to Hermann’s dick and kisses that again instead. He starts stroking them both in unison. “Is this good?” he says, widening his eyes innocently. He nuzzles at the tip of Hermann’s dick and darts his tongue out against the slit.

Owen hisses out a curse; Hermann’s legs start to tremble. His knuckles have gone white around the chalkboard ledge. Newt’s chest swells with pride. He’s doing that to them.

It’s hard building a rhythm, at first, hard to lavish attention and kisses and teasing licks equally on both of them, but Newt manages after five minutes or so. He jerks them off slowly, evenly, switching between mouthing hot and messy at Owen’s (who likes it sloppy) and sucking on Hermann’s (who makes the sexiest little grunts every time Newt so much as breathes on him; Newt files away the knowledge that Hermann is sensitive for future use).

“Newton--” Hermann is panting, and Newt locks eyes with him as he rolls his tongue over Owen and Hermann’s mouth drops open, “oh--”

“You can do better than that,” Owen says, voice strained, and he pets at Newt’s hair. Newt takes the bait: he takes the heads of both Hermann and Owen’s dicks into his mouth and sucks. Hermann cries out, guttural and wordless, and Newt moans happily and works his tongue over them as best as he can. He feels drool run down his chin; he knows he probably looks filthy, and ridiculous, but he doesn’t care.

Hermann’s hips jerk forward so hard Newt nearly gags again, and Newt pulls off quickly. He doesn’t want Hermann to come yet. He wants-- “Sorry,” Hermann stutters, flustered, his chest heaving wildly, “oh, Newton, I’m sorry--I--”

Newt settles back on his heels (his knees have begun to ache, pressed to the cold tile floor for so long) and starts jerking them both off faster. “On my face,” he moans, “please.” He parts his lips, sticks his tongue out, and Owen--already so worked up from being teased for so long--falls apart first, gasps sharply as he comes. It hits Newt’s tongue, his nose, his left cheek in spurts. Hermann’s eyes are so wide it’s almost comical, and his orgasm takes both him and Newt by surprise, hitting Newt’s tongue--like Owen--but the rest hitting Newt’s chin and neck.

Newt swallows, lets them both slip from his fingers so he can start furiously rubbing at himself instead. “Holy shit,” Newt whines, feeling so, so dirty, and he squeezes himself clumsily, “holy shit, oh--”

Owen--breathing heavily--hoists Newt to his feet by the front of his button-up and slams him against the chalkboard, shoves his tongue into Newt’s mouth and bites at his bottom lip, and Newt squeaks in surprise. Owen swallows the noise down and works open Newt’s jeans to start jerking him off. Newt can see Hermann--dazed, spent, clinging to the chalkboard ledge--watching them. “C’mon, Gottlieb,” Owen murmurs, grabbing at Hermann’s hand and dragging it down Newt’s pants, too, and Newt’s breath hitches when he feels Hermann curl his fingers around him hesitantly.

“Hermann,” Newt whimpers, and Hermann grows more confident, matches Owen’s sharp, rough strokes. “Oh--”

Owen starts kissing down his throat and digs his teeth into the joint of Newt’s neck and shoulder, where Newt’s fucked-up collar exposes his skin. It’s like electricity is coursing through Newt’s body; everything is hot, so hot, and he’s aware he’s begging loudly, shrilly, for something, anything. Hermann leans in and kisses him hard just as Owen starts sucking a bruise into Newt’s skin and Newt cries out, spills over Hermann’s and Owen’s hands.

They’re both sweet and attentive, afterwards. Hermann--who had been so shy before--presses sweet, chaste kisses to Newt’s jaw and lips, murmuring out Newt’s name, and Owen just pets at Newt’s hair and kisses behind his ear. It’s nice.

“Great work, team,” Newt says finally, voice wrecked. “Gotta do that again some time.”

[writingspeakingxyz]

Writing Resources You NEED to Know About

Many aspiring authors spend hours and hours, alone behind their computers tap, tap, tapping away. Then those hours turn into months, and of course, the months slip into years. This is admirable. If I’m confident of anything, it’s that to be an author you have to be willing to spend hours of your life equivalent to entire years out of your life slaving away writing. I’m just for sure that you need to read at least just as much. One thing that gets unfortunately overlooked by many is that you also have to be willing to leave your books and your computer behind sometimes. To engage others. Not that you can’t be an introvert. Thousands of widely regarded successful authors were introverts. That’s is because in some way or another they were able to overcome, albeit sometimes only briefly, their restrictions and step outside of their comfort zones. That’s because while writing can take many forms; journaling, hobbies writing, personal letter writing. Authorship is a profession, and that means that it falls within a business structure. No matter how sincerely you believe that Jack Kerouac went from nothing to a fantastic book within two weeks of boozing (which FYI, in reality, he didn’t). If you want to move books from shelves, you will need to approach the task earnestly. With a humble attitude that is open to working with others. The business of writing, designing, editing, publishing, marketing, and selling your books requires a multitude of strangers. Regardless of whether you have a small budget, or you’re JK Rowling. In fact, the small your budget, the approach is better suited to involving a large number of people each with small, potentially volunteer style task. For instance, having friends complete a narrative edit before giving it to a professional editor, to reduce the amount of paid time the editor has to spend on the manuscript. For your first book, I highly suggest having a strong group of people who can offer various products, services, and insights to help you stay focused, motivated, and up-to-speed on the ever-changing self-publishing landscape. Being a successful author requires a lot more than just writing a great book. You have to get into the weeds, be willing to change out of your writer’s cap and into a variety of other hats depending on where you are in the process. You may not have the skills or willingness to tackle everything with your own two hands, and that’s why it’s so important to develop your own file of go-to resources along the way. Here are 30 more resources to tap into along the way! While this list is mostly self-publishing focused, if you’re going the traditional publishing route, you should still have a rigorous shift through them to make sure you are familiar with what is out there. Useful Blogs and Sites 1. The Write Life This workhorse blog is a one-stop-shop offering all you need to figure out how to work with clients, navigate the changing landscape of publishing, learn the ins and outs of social media, grow a following for your blog and find a community that will support you along the way. You’ll always find something useful for your book business here. Try not to get lost in the rabbit hole though. There is so much helpful information here I try to time my visits to make sure I’m not eating into my writing time! 2. Kindlepreneur If you want to dig deep into the goulash of marketing your books, Dave Chesson of Kindlepreneur is your man. His strategies are groundbreaking. Every successful author has to wear many hats, and Dave shares his years of marketing experience and success to show you how to promote the heck out of your books. 3. The Book Designer Joel Friedlander, the creator of The Book Designer, says “Writers change the world one reader at a time. But you can’t change the world with a book that’s still on your hard drive or in a box under your bed.” This embodies the Community Writer mentality. Joel gives you everything you need to get your book out of the box with a variety of self-publishing guides, advice, templates, and toolkits. With his experience in book design and advertising, Joel has the creds to help you produce and sell a great-looking book. 4. The Creative Penn The Creative Penn is run by Joanna Penn, who has been wildly successful with fiction and nonfiction. In her blog and podcast, she covers every aspect of what it takes to start and run a successful author business. She also has a grab bag of books on various self-publishing topics if you can’t get enough on her blog. 5. Jane Friedman’s website Jane has more than 20 years of experience in the book and magazine publishing industry, with expertise in digital media and the future of authorship. Her site is full of actionable content and detailed strategies for the aspiring author from someone who’s been there and done that many times over. Podcasts Worth Your Time 6. Podcast – Neuralle (Uncommon) Please forgive the shameless self-promotion here, but aside from the fact that I will be most likely appearing on this podcast at some point, Neuralle is a fantastic self-development podcast and in my humble opinion a must for any aspiring author or entrepreneur. Past guests have included Venture Capitalists, Entrepreneurs, Chefs, Restaurant Owners, Body Builders, Strength Coaches, Activists, Winemakers, Filmmakers and many, many more. 7. Tim Ferris Podcast This show is the first publishing-related podcast that I followed, and it’s still an all-time favourite. It’s hosted by Tim Ferris an American best-selling author, entrepreneur, self-proclaimed “human guinea pig”, and public speaker. 8. Grammar Girl Quick and Dirty Tips for Better Writing Every green writer should bookmark this podcast. With helpful and insightful tips on grammar and storytelling, Mignon Fogarty’s podcast is sure to help you improve your narrative and technical writing skills. 9. The Writer Files Hosted by Kelton Reid, The Writer Files is a long-running podcast that delves deep into habits and habitats of famed writers. Reid interviews writers from a broad spectrum, giving each listener a chance to see into the mind of an accomplished wordsmith within their genre or interest. Forums 10. Neil Gaiman Board Neil Gaiman’s Official Message Board. Enough said. 11. Goodreads Groups Goodreads is the mega-site (with over 20 million members) for authors and readers. They have more specific groups than you can count, and if you can’t find an answer or inspiration here, then it doesn’t exist. You might feel a bit overwhelmed, but here’s a smart article on using Goodreads to support your author business. 12. Scribophile There are tons of writing forums out there to choose from, so I suggest you have a play with a few of them. This one works a bit differently which is why I like it though. Scribophile provides detailed and helpful critiques from a member exchange. The analyses you’ll get are so much more than just a pat on the back – you’ll get actionable ways to improve your writing. Writing Tools 13. Scrivener Scrivener is a powerful writing tool for authors that allows you to concentrate on composing and structuring your documents. Get a free 30-day trial and watch some brief YouTube tutorials to get acquainted with the system quickly. 14. Grammarly This proofreading application is an improved version of your standard spellchecking program. Just copy and paste blocks of text into Grammarly, and it will check your writing for common mistakes. The reason it’s better than most spellcheckers is that it provides useful feedback that will improve the overall quality of your book. You will learn a lot very quickly by taking heed of the side bar suggestions and explanations. 15. Hemingway Editor Excellent writing is quite often straightforward writing, and Hemingway was the master at that. Whether you’re writing fiction or nonfiction, your narrative should get to the point with simple language. With the Hemingway software, you will learn how to simplify your writing. Book Publishing and Freelance Help 16. Archangel Ink Archangel Ink is a one-stop solution for getting your book ready to publish. Archangel offers a range of services to help you with cover design, editing, formatting, audiobook production and much more. I feel that if you haven’t published before you learn a lot by manually going through the process of completing your manuscript via Scrivner, finding editors/cover creators via say Reedsy/Freelancer and then uploading it to KDP/Createspace. However it can be frustrating, so I completely understand throwing down some cash and handing of some or all of this to someone else. I’m currently considering using Archangel Ink to produce and audiobook for me. 17. 99 Designs This is a service where you post a design project, like your book cover, and dozens of freelancers submit mock-up examples. You then select finalists based on the submissions and choose the winner to work with you to create a finalised version. 99Designs can be pricey, but it’s a great option if you want a professional cover design for your book. 18. Grammarly I won’t rant on this too much as already do that frequently enough if you don’t have the free version of this you need to get it now. What some of you might not know, is that via the paid version they have an option to connect you with a professional proof reader. I haven’t used this before but considering the calibre of everything else they do I think it’s worth investigating. 19. Freelancer One the most significant websites for hiring freelance talent. If you want to find the largest pool of people, then this is a great place to look. The app makes chatting with prospective freelancers seamless so you can manage your project and selection of the perfect candidate on the go. 20. Reedsy Reedsy offers a boutique experience in editing and cover design. Most freelancers here have worked in the publishing industry, so they have a thorough understanding of what will work for your books. But you should also expect to pay more for the freelancers you find here. If you’re going the self-publishing route within fiction, a professional editor is a must, an absolute necessity, seriously. Reedsy is a great way to find one, with almost every budget available. If you can’t afford the lower tier, I suggest saving your pennies or going the traditional publishing route, where a publisher will provide you a professional editor to work with. Getting Feedback 21. Survey Monkey Is an easy to use survey builder; ask multiple choice questions and get demographic information about your audiences, like age, sex, or occupation. You can use it for your current email list, or post a survey with a lead magnet somewhere your target audience will see it (forums, pay-per-click ad etc.) 22. PickFu PickFu allows authors to get instant feedback on your book before you publish using audience polls. This is a more advanced option for those who already have income streams, again I don’t suggest paying for a resource unless you’ve used a free version and had equitable success with it. Email Marketing 23. AWeber With a drag and drop email builder, unlimited image storage and an easy to use interface, AWeber is a great option to manage your email marketing communication. 24. MailChimp MailChimp offers 12,000 emails to 2,000 subscribers – free. That’s what MailChimp can do for you. A great email marketing resource if you’re just getting started. MailChimp is easy to set up, easy to manage and offers an easy to scale pricing plan as your list grows. As the Wix email option ‘Shoutout’ has a capped number of emails you can send but an exportable email list. You can use MailChimp to send additional emails if you are pushing the boundaries of the free Wix option. 25. Constant Contact You can’t call yourself constant contact and then not be available to your customers. And that’s just what makes this email automation company shine. They offer round the clock support 7 days a week. They also offer 60-day FREE trial. 26. SpyFU Search for any domain and see every place they’ve shown up on Google: every keyword they’ve bought on AdWords, every organic rank, and every ad variation in the last 11 years. This combined with Wix’s seamless SEO makes key words unbelievably easy. You don’t need to have some ten years long. Learn how to connect with these domains, too. Find online and traditional leads methods — social media, email, phone, and address — you can’t find anywhere else. So you can look at other authors within your niche and find out exactly where readers are going to find them. Staying Organized 27. Google Keep Keep is an excellent organisation tool. It stores every idea, research plan and content structure. Which can quickly be dumped into Scrivner later. 28. Evernote Another option this is with a few more features is Evernote, you can save snippets of content you find online and go back to all of it in a searchable, taggable easy to find notebooks on Evernote. It also connects to my Google Home via IFTTT which frustratingly Google Keep doesn’t seem to, so I can handsfree keep notes easily. 29. Google Drive Accessible from anywhere with internet, Google Drive is a great collaborative tool for teams to use when you’re working with content, files, or images in tandem. Google Sheets and Google Docs makes group work seamless, and all work can easily be shared with hyperlinks. 30. Tomato Timer The Pomodoro Technique is a time management strategy preferred by many authors. It’s not always easy to keep track of the non-writing tasks related to your book projects. With Brain Focus Productivity Timer, an excel sheet (or just pen and paper) and Scrivner’s session tracking you can keep motivated with tangible evidence of how hard you’re working. Not only time associated with the project. Team Viz is another excellent paid alternative to this method, and you can’t forget the simple Tomato Timer (tomato-timer.com) 31. Slack It’s like super chat. Instant communication. Instant file transfer. Indexed and Searchable. It is fantastic for collaboration if you have a specific project you are working on. Again, use wisely, if you are co-authoring for example. Not if you’re just working with a freelancer for a short time, instead use the platform’s chat for content protection! 32. Lander App You can learn more about A/B testing here: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A/B_testing I have experimented with A/B testing in the past but didn’t feel that it was hugely beneficial. I think that you have to have a relatively sophisticated reason to use A/B testing. Potentially I’ll use this for a book launch with a landing page in the future. Of those that I experimented with, I found Lander App to be the most straightforward to use. Again, if you don’t know what A/B testing doesn’t worry, you don’t need to! Don’t jump to trying to use A/B testing, focus instead on the following: – Mailing list Opt-in rate – You unique visitor Site traffic – Total engagement (comments, email responses) / Book Sales For the third point there, you concentrate on engagement if you haven’t released your first book yet! Website Hosting 33. Freenom – A Name for Everyone One of my favourite hosting companies, if you’re just starting out, I don’t suggest spending any money on anything if you can avoid it. This is perfect for this, as instead of choosing a.com or a.net you can get a free domain and easily swap with redirection later once you’re profitable. Personally, I use Wix for all website things, but this is an excellent option if you’re just starting out. 34. WP Engine WP Engine is a hosting company that provides managed WordPress hosting for websites around the world. They have great support, and their servers help your WordPress site run a top speed. I use Wix as I find it far more user-friendly, however, the advanced features do require a minimum annual cost. With WordPress, most features can be scaled up for free, but a bit more mucking around with add-ons and tech stuff.

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[breitzbachbea]

4. Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like), 6. What character do you have the most fun writing? 10. How would you describe your writing process? 16. Tried anything new with your writing lately? (style, POV, genre, fandom?) -> I'm beging nosy and asking FOUR questions 👀😂

Oh Amber, PLEASE be nosy. I love answering questions about my writing or characters, even though I take 5000 years to answer.

Fun meta asks for writers

4. Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)

Okay, I thought about this for a while and I think I have a few more I could also share (and I'd probably have a sizeable amount of scenes or sentences if I reread ALL I wrote). But this scene was the thing that came to mind first and stuck the most.

From Italian Affairs, Chapter 9 "Drained Chances", Scene 3:

“I know I have to make up for what a jerk I’ve been”, he said. “But I still wish I could just forget.” He looked back into the room and spotted the wine bottle on a sideboard. “Charlie, you’ve got to face this”, Harry said and Michele sighed: “Okay we’ve got to think sober about this situation. Well, you do, Charlie.” “Damn right”, he muttered before walking over to the sideboard, almost falling over when he came to a hold with his hands on its upper side: "I have to correct my mistakes tomorrow!" “That’s the spirit!”, Harry said and Michele smiled. “You most certainly have the right ideas even now, Charlie.” “I have fucked up but I am a grown man and like that I will take responsibility for my actions!” He had grabbed the bottle even before the other two could yell “No!” and they only watched in horror as he emptied it. Charlie held down a burp, put the bottle back on the table and smile confident: "I have to talk to him again and explain myself." “And there it goes down the drain, the last piece of his common sense”, Harry hissed. “Thanks for lending me your ear, guys”, Charlie said and took a wobbly step away from the sideboard. “I am going back to my room now, enjoy your night.” He walked towards the door: “Or maybe I could try to talk to Marco again – no, that’s a stupid idea.” “You just drank half a bottle of wine in one go, mate, you are not going anywhere”, Harry said and Michele sighed but Charlie waved his hand while he staggered towards the door. “Don’t let me cockblock you, Happy fucking.” And with that he tripped and fell to his knees. He frowned at the floor while Michele got up to help him. “You know, Michele”, Charlie said while the Sicilian pulled him on his legs. “On second thought it might have been six beer.”

'Don't let me cockblock you, happy fucking', followed immediately by Charlie tripping and nearly falling on his face is deadass THE funniest thing I have ever written. I love how hilarious the entire situation is, solely because Charlie is an impulsive son of a bitch who keeps making bad decisions. Whenever he seems on track, he just cannot shut his mouth, he just cannot control a whim for a moment too long and it bites him in the ass the very next second. I love him so much. Furthermore, the scene itself is a perfect blend of wit and slapstick. I've outdone myself here.

Also, fuck you, ao3 says I have 382 170 words uploaded right now and that is still far from all I've ever written. So you're getting another scene.

From Smudged Makeup & Cleaning Up:

“I hate myself,” she said in French. “I hate myself and I hate him, I hate both of them so much,” she sobbed as her breath hitched and tears began to run down her face again. “Don’t cry again, shhht, don’t do that,” Hugo whispered and began to rock from side to side. “It’s okay, it’s nothing to cry about.” “I wouldn’t have to see it if I had just opened my stupid mouth and had told him how I felt, if I had just told him these stupid three words I now wouldn’t have to see this.” Her voice was something between a whisper and a hiss.

There are at least two more little paragraphs I could have shared from that one-shot, so I decided to go with the most emotional part. I reread it last night and I still think it is a pretty damn good piece of writing. It's funny, interesting and it shows all of the characters (Timothea, Hugo, Arielle) and their relationships to one another marvellously. I'd sincerely reccommend it to everyone, although the (not as good for sure) A French Trio Of Bad Decisions may be required reading to understand who Arielle is talking about in the above excerpt. (Amber, since you already read that one though, you can just go and enjoy Smudged Makeup & Cleaning Up as your first taste of Thea before you delve into The Amulet for more <3)

6. What character do you have the most fun writing?

That's a good question! I was going to go through Irish Problems and Italian Affairs again, tallying up who has how many POV Scenes, but gave up rather quickly; it's just very hard to determine with all the headhopping that happens in the beginning. Last time I checked it was Harry. The following list is by no means exhaustive and talks mainly about the characters as POV characters. I very much enjoy writing all of my children, whether they're the POV character or not in any given scene.

Charlie is definitely one of them, I feel very at home in his head and he's so much fun to write. His catastrophizing, his intense but jumpy emotions, his impulsivity and kindness, his dialogue and thoughts ... He is so much fun. I'd have to lie to say this gay adhd mess doesn't hold a special place in my heart.

Francesco is another good one, solely because I love being in his head. It's a nightmare in there at times, but that's what makes it fun. Let the sadism fight the catholic guilt, the lust for pleasure at all cost the need for kindness. He's a very vibrant character with an undeniable presence in each scene he is in and it's always fun to write interesting characters.

Lovino's also always a blast. His ranting, his annoyance, his fidgeting (oh, god, if someone asks me for a favourite scene again, I am sharing the one where he shuffled around too much during a car ride and ended up folded like a lawn chair in the footwell). The tumultous inside of his head, his doubts, his fears. I have nothing but love for him and I already miss him, despite not technically having finished Italian Affairs. The rewrite is still ahead of me and I am going to savour every single moment I get to write my favourite South Italian.

Last but not least a shoutout to Hugo. I think he is very interesting as well, with the masks he wears and the intensity that lies beneath them. He's both a sweet young man AND a fuckboy AND a little bitch. The only problem with Hugo is that I'm never 100% sure in his characterisation and have to consult Jonah, his creator, in those cases.

10. How would you describe your writing process?

Messy as shit for being this organized - or Surprisingly organized for being messy as shit. I've developed this process over the past eight years and I'll probably keep tweaking screws as time goes on.

This is my process for my big, multi-chapter, novellength main series entries. Anything else usually gets done in a similiar fashion, just with some of the steps lacking. (I didn't vomitdraft for rarepairweek, for example, nor did I do the proofreading on paper because deadline.)

1. I make an outline. I used to call this "Scene Plan", because it is just that - a list of each scene, with a very short description that makes no sense to anyone but me. Seriously, YOU tell me what is going on here:

2. I collect all snippets that come to mind for a series in a document; if I already have an outline, I copy whatever scene they would belong to as a header. Those things happen all the time, it isn't a conscious effort.

3. I take those snippets, paste them into Quollwriter and then vomitdraft for a few days. Each day around 500 words, as fast as possible. Whatever comes to mind goes onto the page, rarely backtracking. It's not about it being presentable, it's about having something written that serves as skeleton for the scene. I research jack shit at this point and directly type (Look this shit up) into the text.

4. Once a scene/chapter is done, I copy it into word and read through it to take notes in a little notebook. I write down what to research, what I like in the draft, what I dislike and what I still ponder. I try to draw the first connections to give the chapter a coherent feeling. (Chapters for the main series consist of three scenes, so I take notes for a scene and edit it before I repeat the process for the next - I don't take comments for three scenes in a row.)

5. I begin to edit the scene with a goal of 200 words a day. I usually exceed it; during a very bad day I fall a little short of it. I try to write every day or every two days, unless something else requires my focus more (like a term paper). Oftentimes I start a writing session with tweaking what I did the day before, before I continue. I usually also do the research as it is called for at this stage - The Amulet was the only time I did research before I even begun to write. My usual timer is 30 Minutes, but I tend to write for a little longer if I am in the flow. Or I sit there for 4 hours to finish a scene because I am THAT much in the flow and I want the GODFORSAKEN THING DONE.

6. Once I finished editing the chapter or one-shot, I print it out and go through it with a red gel pen. I correct typos, formatting errors or formatting choices I don't agree with. I rewrite sentences that I think read clumsily and cross out words that repeat too much. I sometimes add things to moments that are lacking or I cross out sentences that now feel unnecessary. Once finished, I apply the corrections to my document.

7. If I have a beta-reader (like the lovely @swabianmapley for Herz Auf Beat), this is the point at which I send them the document and wait for their feedback & corrections.

8. I post the thing onto the black void that is The Internet, lie to myself that I don't care about feedback & yet still keep checking ao3 for new hits/kudos/bookmarks/comments and begin the same process for my next project a few days later.

16. Tried anything new with your writing lately? (style, POV, genre, fandom?)

Hmm. I don't know if it counts, but in the coffee one-shots for rarepairweek I tried to make peace with the 'holes' I left. To not explain everything, but let the reader draw their own conclusion. Aside from that ... Been trying to put more emotion into my writing. I felt so unsatisfied with the big Charco kiss at the end of Italian Affairs that I'm now making an effort into describing emotions and sensations more, especially internally and not simply physically.

[artisticsarcasm]

Turning Tables

Alright this is my first ever Bughead fanfic actually first fanfiction in general written by me so i hope and pray this goes well. Sorry for any mistakes it’s late and i was eager to get this up. ___________________________________

Betty Cooper the girl next door and part time worker for the register. When she needs a ground-breaking story to launch her writing career she sets her eyes on the most feared gang in riverdale and there infamous prince jughead Jones. When she goes undercover to unlock the secrets of the southside she starts to become one of them and starts to long for more than just information but also the affections of the serpent prince himself. ______________________________________

CHAPTER 1 - Internships

“Miss Cooper i must say your resume is very impressive one of the best we’ve ever seen” Betty gave her award winning smile and nodded her head in thanks as the stern women sitting in front of her gave a slight smirk and continued “But I’m afraid there are some concerns regarding your age, as you know these opportunities are usually given to college students not…high schoolers” Betty noticed the woman’s face contort into a disapproving frown.

“Mrs.Jacobs i understand your concerns and why you would be hesitant in choosing me, but i promise i have what it takes to do everything that needs to be done. I’ve been writing since forever, helping my parents run the town newspaper I’ve even had a few side reviews published and can guarantee that i won’t let you down.” Betty’s confidence was beginning to waver she could have sworn the essay she sent was a shoe in to get her chosen despite her being younger than most who applied for this particular intern opportunity. It got worse as the stone faced women stared downward at her notepad as she scribbled something off to the side. When she looked up again she sighed.

“Alright Elizabeth here’s what i’ll do for you,” she paused a moment as if reconsidering her offer but continued none the less “Though you’ve written side reviews for your parents paper i want you to go a step further, I want you to Write out a full fledged article. I want you to dig deeper than you ever have and write a story good enough to catch our attention and the towns, send it to us we’ll review it and get back to on whether or not you got it.” Betty did her best to not let her smile falter and nodded in agreement.

“Okay, yeah i’ll get right on it, no problem, you won’t be disappointed i promise!” she replied a bit too quickly as the lady began to pack up her things.

“I’m expecting it a month from tomorrow” Betty’s heart dropped as Mrs.jacobs voice cut through her spirits. A month, she had a month to figure out something amazing to write about, gather information piece it all together, write and rewrite and edit it and then convincing her parents to approve it and proofread and edit it over again. It took her 3 months to perfect her essay and it had taken her friends Veronica and Archie to submit it behind her back when she would non-stop edit it until she was satisfied and found it perfect, yet she still was too scared to submit it herself.

“sounds great” her voice cracked and even she could tell “thank you so much for meeting with me and for your time mrs.jacobs i really appreciate it” the women gave a small smile in thanks then left out of the library.

Betty kicked a crushed can in front of her as the snow fell swiftly around her. she hung her head low deep in thought. there were plenty of people and stories and lives that could be dug out of the small town but nothing was sparking her interest. she sighed in defeat as she approached her home. Her mom would surely hound her about the interview the moment she walked in. this internship could spark her entire writing career and launch her to the top.

As she opened the door as quietly as possible she kicked off the snow that was caked onto her boots and hung her coat on the rack as she closed the door and locked it. Her mother’s voice rang out.

“Elizabeth! is that you?” Betty sighed and walked into the kitchen where her mother was icing a cake for her Dad’s upcoming birthday. her mother always liked to test out different cakes in order to make the perfect one she often times either gave the extra ones away or threw them out hence not coming out how she liked.

“hi mom” her mother gestured towards an empty chair for her to sit in and she complied.

“so how did it go? did you get it?”  

“Not exactly” she sighed. her mother stopped and placed the icing tube down on the counter. she turned towards her and raised and eyebrow urging her to go on. Betty told her what happened about how she had write an article and have it flawless in a month, and how she had no idea what to do.

“Betty, sweetheart, you’ll think of something i know you will” her mom prompted “you have to get that internship do you know how good that will look on your college resume”

“i know mom” she exclaimed as she got up from her seat “i’m headed over to pop’s i told veronica i’d meet her there after i came home” her mother’s lips formed a thin line in disapproval. Betty knew her mom wasn’t a fan of the Lodges but Betty didn’t care when it came to her mom it seemed she wasn’t a fan a lot of the families in this town.

As she walked into pops with the familiar ringing of the bell she smiled over towards her brunette friend and sat down at their usual booth. “Ah lo and behold my amazing best friend who i know scored a college level internship has finally arrived! i already ordered your favorite strawberry milkshake in celebration.” Veronica smiled proudly until she saw the frown on betty’s face “what’s wrong? you did get it didn’t you?”

“They weren’t sure if i could handle it so they gave me an assignment or a final test of sorts to see if i really have what it takes” she went into the details of how she couldn’t think of a single thing to write about or investigate, and Veronica went into a rant about how unfair, and idiotic they were and how her essay was the best ever. Betty calmed her down telling her it was okay and suggested they toss some ideas around.

“how about fashion do’s and don’t?”

“Veronica i already told you no fashion columns i’m no good at those!”

“How about you look into the blossoms see what they’re hiding!”

“absolutely not! That’s like asking for a death wish and plus the blossoms are too predictable they are the most known family on the northside it would be predictable to do yet another article on the blossoms” suddenly the bell rang again signalling another customer and veronica groaned loudly when she and betty saw who.

“those damn serpents, why do they have to come to our side of town!” veronica fumed. The southside serpents the most known gang in riverdale and known as a band of no good heathens looking for trouble especially the younger ones who show there faces around pops and the northside more often, and there in the middle of them all with his crown shaped beanie to fit his title was the serpent prince himself. Jughead Jones. his dad ran the gang and did a hell of a good job of it. His infamous son was a mystery to most. all anyone ever heard or knew of him was all the trouble him and his gang caused.

And that’s when it hit her, her prized story coming to mind.

“Veronica shhh” betty did her best to silence her very outspoken friend “i think i know what i want to write about”

Veronica switched her attention back to betty full force “don’t shh me i have a right to state my opinion!” she huffed “anyway what have you come up with?”

Betty bit her lip as she turned towards the serpent’s table and she immediately regretted it as her bright green eyes clashed with stunning stormy blue. she quickly turned away and answered in a low whisper “The Serpent prince himself” Betty hardly had time to stop her flamboyant best friend as she slammed her perfectly manicured hand on the table.

“Betty Cooper i think not!” she shouted turning all heads in the diner towards them. Betty pleaded with veronica with her eyes to stop being so loud and making a scene. Veronica caught it quick and stood up and pulled betty out of her seat. she dragged her to the door as she told her “we’ll see what Archibald has to say about this!” but it was too late betty had already made up her mind. Her story was going to be one of the biggest in riverdale. The inside scoop on the serpents and the truth behind there mystery prince. she was already forming an idea of how she’d sneak off to the southside and convince Jughead Jones to help her.

“sounds like bad news betts i agree with ronnie” Veronica gave a victorious smile and betty rolled her eyes as he tossed his football from one hand to the other.

they were currently at Archie’s house while his dad was at work sitting on the front steps. When Archie had seen his girlfriend dragging Betty and nagging he knew he was in for an earful. Veronica gave him her version of the story of how betty needed a great topic to write about, and told him her “horrendous” idea.

“you’re just saying that because she’s your girlfriend!” Betty said as she folded her arms and narrowed her eyes towards him.  

“am not!” he laughed “i’m serious betty those serpents are bad news and you know you can get carried away when it comes to your writing, you should keep it on the north side where you at least know your way around” Veronica was nodding in agreement which only made her more upset.

“Are you guys serious! the whole point of this paper is to dig deep into something i don’t know about, to add risk to my writing, i want venture out into unknown territory, i want this paper to be so amazing and unexpected and different from all the others i’ve ever written”

“I’ve heard he’s killed a man” Ronnie tried to protest.

“probably a rumor, but we’ll never know what’s true about him or what him and his gang is really like unless i do this”

“oh yeah!” Veronica replied sarcastically “because your just gonna waltz onto southside all like ‘hey guys i need to write my paper for my internship can you spill all of your secrets to me so i can expose them’ that sure is gonna work Betty!”

“i can go undercover!” at that point both of her friends were laughing at her and it made her blood boil “Fine then! go ahead and laugh but when i get my story you’ll see who’s laughing then!’ she began to walk back to her house as veronica and archie called out to her but she wasn’t listening. when she got inside she avoided her parents and ran to her room and started to plan how the hell she was going to get in with the Jones boy and his gang.

[ceslatoil]

1 - 20 All of them

Already answered 15, 16 and 20 on a different ask, but here's the rest for ya!1. Describe yourself how you would describe a character you’re introducingCeslaToil wished she could be as glamorous and intriguing as her most favorite writers and artists, but as it stood, she was not. She lay slug like on the leather couch in her home after working a grueling eight hour shift, and there was no sign of her moving from this spot. She would not move to wash her face, which was greasy, or to make her bed, which was cluttered with books, or even to finish writing her fics, which were well past their intended deadlines. She did, however, have plenty of time to play Pocket Mortys on her phone apparently, and this is probably why her life is in the state of entropic disorder that it was now. 2. Is there any specific ritual you go through while/before/after your writing?Not particularly-- I think the only ritual o went through for Midsummer was jogging while listening to intense musical numbers when I needed to write action scenes.(I had made the terrible mistake of listening to the It Follows soundtrack when writing the flashlight tag scene in Midsummer-- in the middle of the night when I was in the house by myself! Not my brightest moment.3. What is your absolute favorite kind of fic to write?I like writing fics where characters who we've never seen interact too much in canon getting to play off each other-- for instance, I've written a lot of stories about Ford interacting with some of the more supporting characters in GF because during his brief time on the show, his main interactions were very insular to just being around Stan, Dipper, Fidds and Bill. The scene in Midsummer where Ford reads to Mabel was my contribution to the fandom's need for more bonding moments between the two, and the coatroom scene where he plays off of Blubbs and Soos was a joy to write. Another example is the dynamic between Gideon and Pacifica in Midsummer; writing two of my favorite former antagonists butting heads is so much fun, I could honestly do a whole series where it's just them snipping at each other. 4. Are there any other fic writers you admire? If so, who and why?Guys, I can't stress this enough, send me recs for fics! I honestly have only read very few of them since I started writing for the fandom. I will of course praise my beloved @danvssomethingorother til the end of time, for being in the fanfic game so long and having almost forty fics under their belt! I'm so proud of them, and they offer such magnanimous amounts of support to all I do.5. How many words can you write if you sit down and concentrate intensely for an hour?Some days it's around 1000 words, other days it might only be ten.6. First fic/pairing you wrote for? (If no pairing, describe the plot)Midsummer Nightmare was, originally, just a vehicle for my OTP fiddauthor, but it spiraled out of control into a multi-POV re-imagining of A Midsummer Night's Dream with more plot lines than a soap opera, so Fidds and Ford's budding relationship just becomes a drip in the larger pail of the plot. They get a further chance to shine in PrePos!, but that will always be the first moment.7. Inspiration, time, or motivation. Choose two.Inspiration and motivation-- I usually write on a short amount of personal time anyway; I often find if I don't have one of the other two and plenty of time then I won't get anything done.8. Why do you choose to write?Me, performing a terrible Mad Eye Moody impression: CONSTANT VALIDATION9. Do you ever have plans to write anything other than fic?I have a couple of ideas for some original works-- I think I'm planning on participating in NaNoWriMonth this year, and I'll definitely post the first draft on Ao3 if y'all want.10. What inspires you the most?My favorite movies, books and musicals; entertainment has been a huge comfort to me in my life, and I strive to one day be an entertainer that could comfort somebody else through my art. 11. Weirdest thing you’ve ever written/thought about writing/etc.?Okay guys. Did I ever tell you how much I love The Room? I love it a lot. A whole lot. It's a disastrous delight of a movie, and I came up with a crazy idea for a sequel.Johnny leaves instructions in his will that he will leave his fortune and his condo to whichever one of his friends and loved ones can reach a secret location in Los Angeles first. So it's a race between Mark, Lisa, Denny, Claudette, Chris-R, Peter/Steven, the Flowershop Lady, Bigfoot, Dracula, aliens, robots, space bounty hunters and the ghost of Johnny himself to get the money, and wacky shenanigans ensue.It's just crazy enough not to work at all, but I swear I'm gonna do it someday.12. A fic you wish you had written better, and why?Not written better necessarily, but damn I need to go back over Midsummer sometime and edit some of the grammatical errors. I was still getting my sea legs when I started that fic, so I didn't quite master the art of proofreading just yet. 13. Favorite fic from another author?@amydiddle wrote this beautiful piece for Fiddlefest and it's probably the best story of the month. 14. Your favorite side pairings to put in?99% of the time I write fiddauthor into my fics; but Blubbsland is truly the universal OTP of the fandom. I love writing those two goofs.17. Would yo describe yourself as a fast writer?Depends on the story-- I still haven't updated My Neighbor Baba Yaga since October! I need to get on top of that.18. How old were you when you started writing?I've been writing since I was a kid, but I didn't start writing fic until last year when I was 24! Late bloomer, I know.19. Why did you start writing?I've always enjoyed reading fic since I was 12 and read Harry Potter fics between book releases; I've always wanted to contribute, but didn't feel confident enough to post my stuff on the Internet for randos to gawk at. But if I don't do the things I'd like to do now, when will I ever get them done?

[bern33chaser]

How to Get Started as a Freelance Writer in 6 Simple Steps

Would you love to be a freelance writer?

Maybe you’re hoping to make a bit of money on the side of your day job, or you want to find some work that fits around being at home with your kids much of the day. Perhaps you’re hoping to launch a whole new career.

You might well be feeling daunted before you’ve even begun, though. There’s just so much information out there: where do you even start?

These six steps are all you really need in order to get going:

Step #1: Find Out How Self-Employment and Tax Works in Your Country

Before you start freelancing, it’s important to figure out how self-employment (and particularly tax) works in your own country.

You don’t necessarily need to do anything about it right away, but you do need to know what to expect.

Here in the UK for instance, sole traders (the simplest set up for a freelancer) don’t have to register with HMRC (the tax authorities) from the first moment they start freelancing. They do need to be ready to submit a self-employed tax return on time, though – e.g. by the end of January 2020 for the tax year 6th April 2018 – 5th Mar 2019.

If your country isn’t on this list, just search for “register as self-employed” and your country name, and you should find plenty of advice.

Step #2: Create a Gmail Account (for Email and Google Docs)

Do you have an email address that looks something one of these?

chocolatelover@hotmail.com

GameofThronesfan@yahoo.com

I’m sure it goes without saying that those aren’t very professional looking! Even if your email address uses your name (or your pen name), free providers like hotmail and yahoo have a bit of an “unprofessional” reputation.

Gmail is much better regarded, perhaps because it started out being very popular with techy types, and is now so ubiquitous. So I’d recommend setting up a professional looking email address with Gmail, for now – something like yourname@gmail.com or yournamewriter@gmail.com.

One important reason for having a Gmail address is that it also gives you a Google account, which you can use for Google Docs – I find that many clients want to collaborate in this way.

If you prefer to have a really professional looking email address, then you’ll need to register a domain name of your own (e.g. mine is www.aliventures.com) and then set up an email address at that domain (mine is ali@aliventures.com).

Step #3: Figure Out What Topics You Want to Write About

Before you go any further with freelancing, it’s a good idea to figure out what you want to write about.

You might think that it’d be best to write about anything and everything, in the hopes you’ll get plenty of work – but the truth is that clients prefer writers who have prior experience in a particular area.

You’ll also probably enjoy freelancing more if you’re writing about topics you’re actually interested in.

When you’re figuring out which topics to focus on, you might want to consider:

Your personal life and experiences – e.g. if you’re a parent to school-age children, you could write about pregnancy, babies, toddlers, etc.

Your professional life – e.g. if you work in IT, you might want to specialise in technical writing or in writing for blogs that cover techy topics.

Your hobbies – e.g. if you love to craft, then you might want to look for blogs about craft or companies that sell craft supplies to write for.

You can switch or add topics as you go forward in your career, but you’ll find it helpful to have some idea of the areas you want to focus on when it comes to the next two steps.

Step #4: (Optional) Create a Website

You don’t have to have a website in order to freelance – so if this is just a step too far right now, then feel free to skip it.

At some point fairly early in your freelancing career, though, you’re going to want to have a web presence. You’ll want somewhere to direct potential customers, whether those are your current contacts, friends of friends, or people who read your guest posts (see Step #5).

If you don’t want to spend any money at this stage, I recommend setting up a free website with WordPress.com (just follow their process step by step). Your website will have “wordpress” in the address, so it’ll look something like yourname.wordpress.com.

While this isn’t the most professional option out there, plenty of freelancers do just fine with a free WordPress site – and I think it’s absolutely fine when you’re just starting out.

Alternatively, if you’re fairly confident about techy things and if you have a bit of money to invest, I’d recommend purchasing web hosting, registering your own domain name (e.g. yourname.com) and setting up self-hosted WordPress on that site. Most web hosts have a simple “one click” installation process for WordPress, as it’s so popular.

Step #5: Get Some Published Experience

Before you can start landing freelancing clients, you need some experience: published pieces that you can show them as examples of your work.

But how do you get that experience when you don’t have any clients?

One simple way is to write guest posts for large(ish) blogs: a big advantage of these is that your posts will be online, so it’s very easy to send clients a link to them. You can also create a “Portfolio” page on your website with screenshots of and links to your work.

Ideally, you’ll want to target blogs that fit in with the areas you want to write about, so that you’ve got relevant freelancing clips.

Most guest posts are written for free, and although some freelancers feel you should never work for free, I think it makes sense to do so when you’re just starting out. (Don’t spend ages at this stage, though; three to five published pieces should be plenty.)

You’ll almost always get the opportunity to write a “bio” to go along with your guest post (normally at the bottom of it). You can use this to promote your freelancing services, writing something like:

Ali Luke is a freelance writer, specialising in blog content for small businesses. You can find out more about her and her services at www.aliventures.com.

If you want to freelance for magazines or print publications, rather than blogs or websites, then you’ll want to look for ways to get some experience with print.

A good place to look is local free newspapers and magazines – they probably won’t be able to pay, but they’ll likely be very willing to publish your work.

Step #6: Start Finding Clients

If there’s one thing you take away from this post, make it this:

Don’t use content mills.

If you’re not sure what a content mill is, it’s a site where you sign up and get sent writing jobs. They often promise lots of work, or tell you how much writers can make – but the reality is that they pay peanuts.

They often call themselves “article writing services”. Textbroker is a well-known one; Copify and iWriter are other examples.

Content mills can’t afford to pay much, because their main selling point to their clients is that they’re a cheap way to get lots of content.

So where else can you find work?

Let family and friends know that you’re freelancing, and tell them what type of work you’re looking for. You never know when someone will know someone…!

Look at the ProBlogger jobs boards and Freelance Writing Gigs’ daily round-up of writing work. (There are plenty of other similar job boards online, but I’ve found that between these two, they cover all the good opportunities.)

Pitch directly to websites (or magazines, or whatever type of publication you want to write for).

Target local clients, perhaps with an ad in a local paper, shop window, or library, or by attending local small business networking events.

Browse the website of companies that offer services related to your niche and in case they don’t have a regularly updated blog contact them offering your writing services and explaining the benefits that fresh content would bring to their website.

Think beyond writing articles. You can offer services such as crafting email marketing campaigns, writing e-books and reports, website editing and proofreading and so.

Finding your first paying client can feel like a huge hurdle — but once you’ve found one client, more will follow.

In case you want more help, I have a 6-week program that covers all the aspects of getting started as a freelance writer, from improving your writing productivity to landing high-paying gigs, from promoting yourself online to running your freelance business efficiently. The course has been offered for 8 years and over 1300 students enrolled during that time. I offer a complete money back guarantee, and surprisingly no one ever asked for it! In order to celebrate its eighth anniversary we are offering the course for just $29, so check it out here before the promotion ends.

Above all, if you decide to try freelance writing, make sure you persevere. Getting results takes time, as with virtually all endeavors in life, and the biggest mistake I see aspiring freelance writers making is giving up too soon. Hang in there for 6 to 12 months before you evaluate your results.

Good luck!

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Original post: How to Get Started as a Freelance Writer in 6 Simple Steps from Daily Writing Tips https://www.dailywritingtips.com/how-to-get-started-as-a-freelance-writer/

[arthur36domingo]

How to Write a Thank-You Email After an Interview, According to Experts

Have you ever been in this situation?

You go in for an interview, and after a harrowing two hours, walk out feeling relatively confident that you made a good impression. Your resume was flawless. Your cover letter was witty and showed passion. Your interview outfit was on point. You thought you really bonded with the team that interviewed you. Nothing could go wrong, right?

Two days later, you get a rejection email in your inbox from the same recruiter you had poured your heart out to just days prior. Confused, you ask why you’re no longer being considered for the role. No response.

What went wrong? You forgot a vital (and oft-overlooked) part of the job search process: the thank-you letter!

Why After-Interview Thank-You Notes Are an Important Art

If you think it’s terrifying being interviewed, you’re not alone. But let me tell you, interviews (especially in-person interviews) can be an equally traumatizing experience from the other side of the table.

I kicked off the search for my first hire at Grammarly earlier this year, and when the first on-site interview came around, I was terrified. Sitting there with my list of questions and my notebook, I tried to simultaneously project confidence, follow my company’s values, ask the right questions, make sure my hair didn’t do anything weird, and (attempt to) mask my nerves.

Sound familiar?

Even if interviews are a vital part of the recruiting process, the first round of the interview process can be awkward for everyone. That’s why it’s key to thank your interviewers—often the process has made them just as uncomfortable as you are! That’s why a killer post-interview thank-you note can help you make a great impression and land the job.

But don’t take my word for it! Lily Zhang, a career expert at MIT, put it this way on The Muse:

Think of it this way: Your interview isn’t over until you send a thank you note. You want to move the hiring managers from interview mindset to decision mindset as quickly as possible, so don’t drag it out.

I asked Olivia Seastrom, a recruiter at Grammarly, what she loves about thank-you notes. She said,

I really like thoughtful, sincere thank you notes after interviews, and I always sent them when I was interviewing. It doesn’t have to be formal, just a nice note to express interest and thank someone for their time.

Additionally, a great thank-you note can make you stand out from the crowd. CareerBuilder determined that only 57 percent of candidates send thank-you notes, and 20 percent of hiring managers would be less likely to hire someone without a thank you. That could mean the difference between a job and a rejection.

Planning Your Thank-You Note: Know What You Want to Communicate

With any important piece of writing, planning is half the battle. Should you follow up over email, in a handwritten notecard, or on social media? And what should you write?

There are two vital factors to consider when writing a thank-you note after an interview: speed and specificity. Thank yous are not “better late than never.” In fact, most interviewers expect an email or letter within a day. That means time is of the essence, and you need to work quickly! As one Glassdoor recruiter puts it, “it is vital to send a thank you email to your interviews within 24-48 hours.”

Even though you must write quickly, you also need to personalize each thank-you note to the interviewer. Gone are the days where I would look at a template thank-you note and consider it worth my time to read. As Valerie LeClair, Grammarly’s Director of Recruiting, once described to me,

Write from the heart! If a candidate is going to write a standardized, impersonal note, there is no reason to even send it.

But don’t panic! Take a deep breath and reflect on your interview experience. Now, ask yourself these idea-generating questions:

How did the interview go? Did anything weird happen?

Did I flub on a question I know I have a better answer for?

Did I forget to ask the interviewer one of my questions?

Is there something additional this interviewer should know about me?

Did I discuss anything interesting? Find any similarities to my interviewer?

After you formulate a few ideas (either in your head or on paper), it’s time to think format. If you want to make a truly over-the-top impression, consider a handwritten note. If you had many interviewers or know you have more rounds of interviews to go through, you can probably stick with email. No matter what, avoid a public social media follow-up. As Jenny Foss writes on The Muse:

Who are you trying to thank? The interviewer (this is who you should be trying to thank, directly) or the entire corporation and all of its thousands of followers? Seriously.

Writing Your Thank-You Letter: Tips & Templates

By now, you should have a format, deadline, and list of ideas for your thank-you note, and it’s time to slap on your writing hat and get to work. Here are the general principles of a great letter or email.

Be your best self, on paper.

Your cover letter and resume were all about representing the best version of your professional self, and this thank-you note should be no different. Don’t resort to overly familiar language just because you’ve met someone in person, but also don’t suddenly become cold and dispassionate. Keep the same tone you would in any other email to the recruiter or hiring manager, and if there’s a place to remind them of your passion for the role, go for it!

The only thing you should avoid in a thank-you is trying to sell yourself once again. You’re writing this note to show you appreciate someone’s time, not to tell them you’re awesome. Remember that.

Keep it short, and mind your structure.

In the same vein, don’t suddenly write a novel about how much you love the company or the person you talked to. You may have many things to tell this recruiter or hiring manager, but try to stick to one main point, question, or fun fact.

Personally, if I’m reading a thank-you email longer than five sentences, I’ve probably started to wonder if the time to read it was worth my investment. Your interviewers probably feel the same.

Having trouble getting started? Here’s a thank-you email template.

I know all of this sounds great in theory, but slamming pen to paper (or fingers to keys) is a very different matter. Never fear, templates and suggestions are here!

Before I share a general format, I want you to repeat after me: “I solemnly swear not to copy-paste this template into my email.” We’ve already covered why a generic thank you is almost worse than no thank you, but in case you’re not convinced, here’s an infographic to change your mind. That said, a few ideas never hurt, so feel free to steal any of the phrases or sentences below and make them your own!

Dear [Interviewer’s Name],

[Opening line thanking them.] [Personalized detail about how you enjoyed meeting them, the hiring manager, and/or the team.] [Sentence that adds value to the discussions you had, and shows your passion for the company and position.]

[Sentence about how excited you are to hear from them, that also sets you up to send a follow-up email later.] [Closing sentence that thanks them again, and offers to provide further information.]

[Sign-Off],

[Your Name]

Subject Lines

Thanks for Chatting Today – Use something like this if you had a phone screen or video interview.

Nice to Meet You Today – This works well for interviews that take place on site.

Thanks, and a Question – Have a nagging, relevant question that shows you’re passionate about the role? Use this email to follow up after your interview!

Thank You for Your Time – Especially good if it was a long interview.

Many Thanks – Short, sweet, and classic.

Opening Lines

It was really nice meet you today.

Thank you for taking the time to meet with me today.

Thanks for taking the time to introduce me to the team today.

Thank you so much for your time today.

Thanks for chatting with me today.

Closing Sentences

Thank you again for your time, and let me know if there is any further information I can provide to aid in your decision.

Let me know if there is any more information I can provide. I’d be happy to follow up on any items we discussed today.

Thanks again for your time. It was great to meet you!

Thanks again for chatting with me. I am eagerly awaiting next steps.

Sign-Offs

All the Best,

Many Thanks,

Thank You,

Editing Your Work: A Thank-You Email and Letter Checklist

I love to edit all sorts of writing, but I know this isn’t true for everyone! Since editing can be a time-consuming step, here are two checklists you can use to make sure your email is flawless: one for real letters and one for emails. Don’t worry, editing shouldn’t take longer than five minutes, so you’ll still get that email out in time!

If you’re writing a pen-and-paper thank-you letter:

Did I format this note correctly? If it’s handwritten, can any average person read my handwriting?

Have I addressed the person I’m thanking correctly? Am I spelling their name right?

Did I make my point in under five sentences?

Did I mention a specific topic, common interest, or question relevant to my discussion with this person?

Did I say “thank you” at some point in the note?

Did I sign the thank-you letter?

Did I proofread the note? (Don’t know how to do this? Check out this blog on proofreading techniques.)

No really, is the writing flawless?

Have I addressed the envelope, purchased postage, and mailed the letter within 24-48 hours of the interview?

If you did all of these things, congratulations! You deserve to put your feet up and sip your favorite post-interview beverage (mine’s herbal tea, but you do you).

If you’re writing a thank-you email:

Did I include a relevant subject line? Is everything spelled correctly there?

Have I addressed the person I’m thanking correctly? Am I spelling their name and email right?

Did I make my point in under five sentences?

Did I mention a specific topic, common interest, or question relevant to my discussion with this person?

Did I say “thank you” at some point in the note?

Are my signature, email name, and email avatar photo all in alignment to project a professional image?

Did I use Grammarly to edit this note for correctness, clarity, and word choice? (Don’t have Grammarly? Get the app here.)

Did I proofread this email? (Don’t know how to do this? Check out these tips.)

Did I hit “Send” within 24-48 hours?

If you did all of these things, congratulations! You deserve to grab a book and a snack and take a break. The hard part is (mostly) over.

Need more help following up after interviews? Check back for more insights next week.

The post How to Write a Thank-You Email After an Interview, According to Experts appeared first on Grammarly Blog.

from Grammarly Blog https://www.grammarly.com/blog/thank-you-email-after-interview/

[ber39james]

How to Write a Thank-You Email After an Interview, According to Experts

Have you ever been in this situation?

You go in for an interview, and after a harrowing two hours, walk out feeling relatively confident that you made a good impression. Your resume was flawless. Your cover letter was witty and showed passion. Your interview outfit was on point. You thought you really bonded with the team that interviewed you. Nothing could go wrong, right?

Two days later, you get a rejection email in your inbox from the same recruiter you had poured your heart out to just days prior. Confused, you ask why you’re no longer being considered for the role. No response.

What went wrong? You forgot a vital (and oft-overlooked) part of the job search process: the thank-you letter!

Why After-Interview Thank-You Notes Are an Important Art

If you think it’s terrifying being interviewed, you’re not alone. But let me tell you, interviews (especially in-person interviews) can be an equally traumatizing experience from the other side of the table.

I kicked off the search for my first hire at Grammarly earlier this year, and when the first on-site interview came around, I was terrified. Sitting there with my list of questions and my notebook, I tried to simultaneously project confidence, follow my company’s values, ask the right questions, make sure my hair didn’t do anything weird, and (attempt to) mask my nerves.

Sound familiar?

Even if interviews are a vital part of the recruiting process, the first round of the interview process can be awkward for everyone. That’s why it’s key to thank your interviewers—often the process has made them just as uncomfortable as you are! That’s why a killer post-interview thank-you note can help you make a great impression and land the job.

But don’t take my word for it! Lily Zhang, a career expert at MIT, put it this way on The Muse:

Think of it this way: Your interview isn’t over until you send a thank you note. You want to move the hiring managers from interview mindset to decision mindset as quickly as possible, so don’t drag it out.

I asked Olivia Seastrom, a recruiter at Grammarly, what she loves about thank-you notes. She said,

I really like thoughtful, sincere thank you notes after interviews, and I always sent them when I was interviewing. It doesn’t have to be formal, just a nice note to express interest and thank someone for their time.

Additionally, a great thank-you note can make you stand out from the crowd. CareerBuilder determined that only 57 percent of candidates send thank-you notes, and 20 percent of hiring managers would be less likely to hire someone without a thank you. That could mean the difference between a job and a rejection.

Planning Your Thank-You Note: Know What You Want to Communicate

With any important piece of writing, planning is half the battle. Should you follow up over email, in a handwritten notecard, or on social media? And what should you write?

There are two vital factors to consider when writing a thank-you note after an interview: speed and specificity. Thank yous are not “better late than never.” In fact, most interviewers expect an email or letter within a day. That means time is of the essence, and you need to work quickly! As one Glassdoor recruiter puts it, “it is vital to send a thank you email to your interviews within 24-48 hours.”

Even though you must write quickly, you also need to personalize each thank-you note to the interviewer. Gone are the days where I would look at a template thank-you note and consider it worth my time to read. As Valerie LeClair, Grammarly’s Director of Recruiting, once described to me,

Write from the heart! If a candidate is going to write a standardized, impersonal note, there is no reason to even send it.

But don’t panic! Take a deep breath and reflect on your interview experience. Now, ask yourself these idea-generating questions:

How did the interview go? Did anything weird happen?

Did I flub on a question I know I have a better answer for?

Did I forget to ask the interviewer one of my questions?

Is there something additional this interviewer should know about me?

Did I discuss anything interesting? Find any similarities to my interviewer?

After you formulate a few ideas (either in your head or on paper), it’s time to think format. If you want to make a truly over-the-top impression, consider a handwritten note. If you had many interviewers or know you have more rounds of interviews to go through, you can probably stick with email. No matter what, avoid a public social media follow-up. As Jenny Foss writes on The Muse:

Who are you trying to thank? The interviewer (this is who you should be trying to thank, directly) or the entire corporation and all of its thousands of followers? Seriously.

Writing Your Thank-You Letter: Tips & Templates

By now, you should have a format, deadline, and list of ideas for your thank-you note, and it’s time to slap on your writing hat and get to work. Here are the general principles of a great letter or email.

Be your best self, on paper.

Your cover letter and resume were all about representing the best version of your professional self, and this thank-you note should be no different. Don’t resort to overly familiar language just because you’ve met someone in person, but also don’t suddenly become cold and dispassionate. Keep the same tone you would in any other email to the recruiter or hiring manager, and if there’s a place to remind them of your passion for the role, go for it!

The only thing you should avoid in a thank-you is trying to sell yourself once again. You’re writing this note to show you appreciate someone’s time, not to tell them you’re awesome. Remember that.

Keep it short, and mind your structure.

In the same vein, don’t suddenly write a novel about how much you love the company or the person you talked to. You may have many things to tell this recruiter or hiring manager, but try to stick to one main point, question, or fun fact.

Personally, if I’m reading a thank-you email longer than five sentences, I’ve probably started to wonder if the time to read it was worth my investment. Your interviewers probably feel the same.

Having trouble getting started? Here’s a thank-you email template.

I know all of this sounds great in theory, but slamming pen to paper (or fingers to keys) is a very different matter. Never fear, templates and suggestions are here!

Before I share a general format, I want you to repeat after me: “I solemnly swear not to copy-paste this template into my email.” We’ve already covered why a generic thank you is almost worse than no thank you, but in case you’re not convinced, here’s an infographic to change your mind. That said, a few ideas never hurt, so feel free to steal any of the phrases or sentences below and make them your own!

Dear [Interviewer’s Name],

[Opening line thanking them.] [Personalized detail about how you enjoyed meeting them, the hiring manager, and/or the team.] [Sentence that adds value to the discussions you had, and shows your passion for the company and position.]

[Sentence about how excited you are to hear from them, that also sets you up to send a follow-up email later.] [Closing sentence that thanks them again, and offers to provide further information.]

[Sign-Off],

[Your Name]

Subject Lines

Thanks for Chatting Today – Use something like this if you had a phone screen or video interview.

Nice to Meet You Today – This works well for interviews that take place on site.

Thanks, and a Question – Have a nagging, relevant question that shows you’re passionate about the role? Use this email to follow up after your interview!

Thank You for Your Time – Especially good if it was a long interview.

Many Thanks – Short, sweet, and classic.

Opening Lines

It was really nice meet you today.

Thank you for taking the time to meet with me today.

Thanks for taking the time to introduce me to the team today.

Thank you so much for your time today.

Thanks for chatting with me today.

Closing Sentences

Thank you again for your time, and let me know if there is any further information I can provide to aid in your decision.

Let me know if there is any more information I can provide. I’d be happy to follow up on any items we discussed today.

Thanks again for your time. It was great to meet you!

Thanks again for chatting with me. I am eagerly awaiting next steps.

Sign-Offs

All the Best,

Many Thanks,

Thank You,

Editing Your Work: A Thank-You Email and Letter Checklist

I love to edit all sorts of writing, but I know this isn’t true for everyone! Since editing can be a time-consuming step, here are two checklists you can use to make sure your email is flawless: one for real letters and one for emails. Don’t worry, editing shouldn’t take longer than five minutes, so you’ll still get that email out in time!

If you’re writing a pen-and-paper thank-you letter:

Did I format this note correctly? If it’s handwritten, can any average person read my handwriting?

Have I addressed the person I’m thanking correctly? Am I spelling their name right?

Did I make my point in under five sentences?

Did I mention a specific topic, common interest, or question relevant to my discussion with this person?

Did I say “thank you” at some point in the note?

Did I sign the thank-you letter?

Did I proofread the note? (Don’t know how to do this? Check out this blog on proofreading techniques.)

No really, is the writing flawless?

Have I addressed the envelope, purchased postage, and mailed the letter within 24-48 hours of the interview?

If you did all of these things, congratulations! You deserve to put your feet up and sip your favorite post-interview beverage (mine’s herbal tea, but you do you).

If you’re writing a thank-you email:

Did I include a relevant subject line? Is everything spelled correctly there?

Have I addressed the person I’m thanking correctly? Am I spelling their name and email right?

Did I make my point in under five sentences?

Did I mention a specific topic, common interest, or question relevant to my discussion with this person?

Did I say “thank you” at some point in the note?

Are my signature, email name, and email avatar photo all in alignment to project a professional image?

Did I use Grammarly to edit this note for correctness, clarity, and word choice? (Don’t have Grammarly? Get the app here.)

Did I proofread this email? (Don’t know how to do this? Check out these tips.)

Did I hit “Send” within 24-48 hours?

If you did all of these things, congratulations! You deserve to grab a book and a snack and take a break. The hard part is (mostly) over.

Need more help following up after interviews? Check back for more insights next week.

The post How to Write a Thank-You Email After an Interview, According to Experts appeared first on Grammarly Blog.

from Grammarly Blog https://www.grammarly.com/blog/thank-you-email-after-interview/

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edited to add a quick disclaimer: some folks are concerned about contracts and this type of thing getting some one fired. Want to advise that I got the blessing of management and ownership. This is advice from my own personal experience and you should for sure use your own judgement.I’m an ACD/writer at a fairly large integrated agency, in the past year, I created and launched what is now a successful business (Merino Wool clothing for travelers) while continuing to develop my career in advertising.It was an incredibly rewarding experience. Now, I have a job I love and I also have a great little start-up I continue to grow every day. And while I continue to be fully engaged at work, our business is honing in on doing $1MIL in revenue in its first year! The reason for this post is to highlight that as someone working in full-time, you have a chance to work on something profitable without the risk of giving up on your career – A side project that can have real legs to it, can be profitable, and you can still keep the comfort of working a great job with a salary. I want to share with you my experience so that you can maybe take a similar step. Or, maybe you already have an idea you’d love to get off the ground but can’t find time or are too distracted by your demanding career….If you have an idea, you can make it happen. Even if you fail, the experience of launching your own company will make you better at your job...whatever you do. Before I begin, I’d like to say that I have no interest in leaving my current job. I work at a great agency. I love my co-workers, I like my clients, and I still enjoy working on advertising every day. The beauty is that I have a business growing while my career continues to grow as well. With a little extra man hours outside of work, you can grow a business while the rest of the workforce is out getting wasted at the bar. If you stay committed to your job, and clear things with management and your co-workers, they’ll value your vision, work ethic, commitment and gumption. Heck, in the right culture, your employer may even throw resources at it.  So here’s basically a play-by-play of how to turn your employed life into an entrepreneur life and let the two work in tandem: With a little bit of ingenuity, you can directly apply the insight you get from your day-to-day work life to starting your own company. And you’re side business will make you more curious and involved at work. Here are a few changes I’ve seen in my own career since starting to work on our project: 1) It set me apart: In my experience, advertising values someone who has creative, applicable interests outside of their work life. It’s just one more asset in your personal brand. 2) I became more aware of, and more into other sides of the business: I’m a creative, but this past year, I learned about things I just didn’t need to know about before. Things like analytics, media buying, brand strategy, design, social listening, PR, print production, product dev, front end dev, and then there’s the financials, supply chain, negotiation.. The list goes on and on. While it doesn’t change my agency work creatively, I definitely have a heightened sense of understanding of many of the clients I sometimes need to interact with. This awareness and heightened perspectives creates a new level of confidence in my pitching ability and strategic thinking capabilities. 3) I have a much better attitude about work: With a passion project to keep me fulfilled and busy, I found myself enjoying my work life that much more. Suddenly, everything I learn at work, I have a real world application that benefits me directly. Literally something I learned at a morning meeting, I made actionable that afternoon, and saw real dollar results that night. SO...If anyone out there has the inkling to start their own side project (whatever it may be) Here’s a few tips that may be useful: Build Your Team: You can go at it alone, but I found it was much easier and more fun complimenting my own skills with the complementary skills others. It really is like working on a client project - assemble a team that can collectively handle every aspect of getting the job done. Manage Your Time: Time management was a huge issue for me. To paint you a picture, I’m 32, I have 2 kids under 4 years old, a house that needs a lot of work, and a wife that works just as much as I do in an equally demanding industry. That said, I knew in my heart that casually working on it when the time felt right, or when inspiration struck – I knew that I’d never make it happen. So here’s what I did: I carved out time I most likely have spent either sleeping, watching Netflix, or spending money at the bar. Literally idle time. My side project work schedule looks like this: *Monday: 7am-9am *Wednesday: 7am-9am *Friday: 9pm-1amThis amounts to 8 hours per week of dedicated work. The key is coming to this work session knowing what tasks you will achieve and leaving the meeting with a plan for the next one. The key is sticking to the hours no matter what and making up missed hours. Another thing to keep in mind, if you’re only going to work for 2 hours, know exactly what you’re going to work on prior so you get in the flow of working immediately. Keeps you from going on reddit. Get on SLACK If you have a team, GET ON SLACK! Slack is an incredible way to communicate as a team. I can’t recommend this platform enough. It works across all devices and will keep every conversation about the project organized. It will also keep your side project related stuff off of Facebook. Win/Win. Use Trello: A fantastic platform for keeping every detail of the project organized and moving towards completion. It will let you organize every piece of the puzzle and then chip away at it as a team. Again, as someone who has a full time job, staying on track, and taking one little chunk out of the project at a time will be critical. Take Advantage of WORK Resources: For me, I worked at an advertising agency this may not be related to you, but may be you can gleam insight into how I got my co-workers involved.Either way –  Here’s some rules of engagement that worked for me: 1)Pay people for their time whenever necessary. 2)Keep your requests private. 3)Take people out for lunch if you just need some insight. 4)Buy a bottle of wine and a thank you card for someone if they went above and beyond. 5)For a small thing here and there, people are more than happy to help, but for anything big …pay people accordingly – don’t ask them to cheap out on their day rates. I’ve really asked for a lot of help and I’m grateful to everyone at my agency for all their help. Here are actual examples of people I work with (by job description) and examples of how they’ve helped. Writers: Proofreading, writing your website or crowdfunding campaign (more below) Art Directors & Designers: Logos, visual identity, brand standards, your website, the list goes on and on. You will need either one or both. Print Production: Amazing place to seek out help finding vendors. Usually these guys are owed a lot of favors, and so getting a deal for your project shouldn’t be too difficult if you ask nicely. I saved tons of money on printing materials because we went through a vendor that does a lot of work for a huge client of the agency. Planners: A good strategy person will help you get some privy to good data that can help shape your idea, or what channels to take it to. They can also help set up your social strategy and aid with media buying. Media: Eventually you’ll need to get the word out, a good media buyer will work with your limited start up budget and make it stretch. Ideally, they’ll teach you how to use Facebook Ad Manager. Dev: If you’re selling something, a Shopify template will most likely be your first stab at a store. We built our the first iteration of our website using a template and the help of a great developer friend who we payed hourly. Find a good, reliable, and affordable dev guy that will help you problem solve, not just count hours, and be a partner in every step of the process. Executives: If you feel like your work has a culture of supporting passion projects, or could benefit from the work that you are doing, take it up with management.. This really depends on the place – size and culture. Some great places even have programs and grants. For me, over time, most people I worked with knew that I had been working on this side-project and were all very excited for it. Eventually it trickled up to management, and they were happy to offer advice, and where also totally cool with me using office space for meetings, and in general loved the idea.   A few thoughts on Developing your idea: It all starts with an idea. You might have one right now. But you might not. In my experience, we actively started looking for an idea to make happen. It wasn’t a moment of “Eureka!”.Don’t sit around waiting for something to pop into your head. Anything can work for this, the key is to do something about it. Even if you don’t hit it with your idea, it’s fun to execute and try. And if it’s a miss, you can always pivot. If you’re Canadian, you know the famous Wayne Gretzky quote “you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take”. It applies here.I thought this was a great resource for how to figure out what product or business might be right for you in the ecommerce space. It’s what we used. R/entrepreneur and r/startups is also rich with insight into launching a new company or ideas for products and services.In our case what we did was basically create a product for ourselves. We were our own core consumers. It was easy to start developing it because it was something that we actually wanted and couldn’t’ find elsewhere. Start with yourself and go from there. If you ever feel like you have the idea about how something can be better, you can do it. We knew nothing about making apparel when we started. We just knew we wanted better travel clothing. We figured it out as we built our launch plan. Which brings us to how we actually executed on our idea. Something I can’t recommend enough...  Crowd Funding How you develop and launch your idea is really up to you. It might be a super grass roots local idea. It might be an app. Or it might be something more along the lines of an e-commerce site like we did. For us, we started and developed the project knowing we were going to launch it as a crowdfunding campaign. For one, it lets you start something completely risk free – you’re investing very little capital. Secondly, it is a proving ground for you to develop a brand and product to see if people actually want to support it. It’s a great place to see if an idea hunts.We were able to raise $360,000, and refine much of the sell and messaging that would work its way into our final product. It also helped grow our first pool of customers – 2500 in over 90 countries around the world!Creating a crowdfunding campaign is the ultimate test of your marketing / advertising agency chops. It’s everything from brand positioning to campaign building to marketing and advertising and a million things in between. We focused all our energy on the campaign. If it worked - we would figure the rest out then… If it didn’t we had a blast building it and maybe would have tried again with something different.It was fun to build and create and extremely rewarding. In our case it also happened to spawn a real business that’s run entirely virtually.We wouldn’t have been able to do it without all the agency knowledge and connections and I really hope everything I wrote is of some value to some of you.We’re all in a pretty cool position and there’s no better time to scratch that entrepreneurial itch (if you have it at all) than now.If crowdfunding is something you want to pursue – Tim Ferris has an incredible resource for how to crowdfund and idea.  Well, that’s that. Hope it inspires some of you to get out there and make something – even if it’s just for the sake of having fun. This past 1.5 years has been a wild ride and I’m better for it at work and outside of work. If anyone has any questions about anything we’ve done - let me know! Happy to answer anything. Cheers!