#i usually wait around for whatever time i want my finished and ready-to-go drafted posts to go up so i can do it manually

[seventh-district]

oh nice! the Matt fic posted itself at the correct time

[reidgraygubler]

Spoonful of Sugar (spencer reid/reader)

Title: spoonful of sugar

Request: yes! (a super fluffy spence x reader one shot in which she's sick with the flu, a high fever or something similiar, so he has to take care of her. Usually i'm not that super whiny and wouldn't request things like that buuut i'm in a desperate need for spence to take care of me while i'm ill and home alone.)

Couple: Spencer Reid/gen-neutral!reader

Category: fluff

Content Warning: spencer’s pov, anxiety about an ill partner, none that I can think of. If something does need to be tagged, please message me

Word Count: 1,638

Summary: Spencer stays home from work to take care of his partner, who’s sick with the flu

A/N: sorry this took so long to get posted. i forgot I had it written and it was just sitting in my drafts. it is a little on the shorter side... thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

The person who usually slept beside me did not sleep last night. I only know that because whenever they tossed and turned, it’d wake me up. But also, they kept stealing all the blankets from me. Whenever I tried to take them back, they’d wake up and steal them again. Or they’d be suddenly up in a coughing fit. And then, they finally fell asleep around the time I had to get out of bed for work. Leaving me with another restless night of sleep. I was used to it at this point, but not because of them.

When I left the bedroom, I made sure to be as quiet as possible. I didn’t want to be the reason why they woke up for the day. Clearly something was on their mind and keeping them up. I also made sure they had all of the blankets on their body. While I did that, I sneakily rested my hand on their forehead, and the back of their neck, just to check their temperature.

They were on fire. I’d never felt someone as hot as that in a very long time. It would explain why they got no sleep and kept waking up, and stealing the blankets. They’d need to get medicine and fluids in them, and quickly. But I’ll do that when I’m finished getting ready. They just fell asleep and I’d rather them sleep off their fever.

So that’s what I did. I quickly got ready for work, doing all the necessary things I had to do. I wanted to make sure my person had everything they needed before I left for work.

Which meant a quick stop at the market down the street. The market had their favorite soup, juice, and snacks. If I was going to go into work today, I needed to make sure they had everything they needed before I left for the day. And if they wanted me to stay, I’d do that for them.

“Hey Emily, I’m going to be late to the office today,” I said into my phone as I grabbed a basket. The store had several people, just enough for me to be cautious of where I was going. And it pressured me to be even quicker inside.

“Oh! Of course! Is everything okay?” Emily asked, the concern in her tone sounding genuine. I sighed before nodding.

“Yeah, just... Just need to take care of someone who’s sick,” I explained as I grabbed a bottle of orange juice.

“Take all the time you need! We got everything covered here.”

“Thank you so much.”

“Of course, call me if you need anything!” She proclaimed before bidding farewell. I sighed deeply before pocketing my phone and headed towards the deli to get some soup. They always gave me chicken noodle, with the good thick egg noodles. Since they also enjoyed White Chicken Chill, I got that for them, too. Anything to make them feel better sooner.

Once I got both soups, enough juice for a small household, and plenty of healthy snacks, I made the trek back home. Whether they enjoyed the things I got them or not, I knew they’d enjoy the thought. Because that’s all that matters, right? The thought?

When I got home, I prepared the chicken noodle in a bowl, and grabbed a bottle of juice with electrolytes, and brought it to the bedroom. They were still asleep, however slightly stirring. Instead of just leaving right away, I waited a moment for them to wake up.

“My head is pounding,” they groaned as they brought a hand to rest on their forehead. “Like I drank a fifth of whiskey,” they added. I held back my chuckle and sat on the edge of the bed.

“You’re hot.”

“Thanks so are you,” they blew me a kiss. I rolled my eyes before shaking my head.

“You have a fever, Dear,” I corrected as I handed them the bottle of juice. “I got you soup, juice, and healthy snacks.”

“You’re too kind, Spencer,” they hummed as they struggled to open the bottle. I watched as they sighed and handed the bottle over to me. I smiled as I cracked the bottle open.

“I have to go in, but if you want me to stay I can.” I handed the bottle back to them. They smiled brightly before taking a big sip of the juice.

“No, no, you’re the breadmaker here. You’d be no use to me here.”

“I can help you,” I breathed out a laugh. They lazily smiled before shrugging. “I’m gonna get you medicine.”

“If you don’t come back with Day and Nyquil, don’t come back at all,” they teased. I laughed as I looked back at them.

“Eat your soup, I’m getting you medicine,” I repeated as I pointed at the bowl of chicken noodle on the nightstand. They glared at me before picking up the bowl. I was quick, grabbing the medicine they asked for and a bottle of Aleve.

“Do you need anything else?” I looked down at them as I placed the bottles on the nightstand. They shook their head as they looked back at me, watching as I sat back down beside them.

“I’m all good here.”

“I can stay if you need me to,” I whispered as I looked over at them. They looked away from the bowl of soup with wide eyes. “Surely Emily won’t care. Family first.”

“As much as I’d love for you to stay, Spence, they need you just as badly there,” my person slurred their words. I could only imagine just how congested their sinuses and how blocked their nasal passages were. Which would only cause a migraine. “Besides, I don’t want to get you sick. You’re a baby when you’re sick.” They smirked at me.

“Am not!” I exclaimed as I looked at them. They shrugged before rubbing the underside of their nose. Should have grabbed them tissues while I was at the store. “Seriously, I’ll stay.”

“Seriously, go to work.”

“If I didn’t know any better it sounds to me like you’re trying to get rid of me.”

“I am,” they mumbled as they blew softly onto their spoonful of soup. I rolled my eyes before standing up off the bed.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go.” I lifted my hands as a sign of surrender. They looked up at me with a soft smile. “Good to know you can get rid of me so easily.”

“I’ll call you if I need anything.” They placed the soup back on the nightstand before shifting down the bed.

“And I’ll let Emily know I’ll be on desk duty.”

“Spencer,” they warned.

“I’m going! I’m going! Gone! See! Gone!”

“Love you!”

“Love you, too!”

I should have stayed home.

{***}{***}{***}

Okay, maybe Spencer should have stayed home because… I really miss him. I thought I’d be fine if he went in, and I’d get by… But I really want him. God I’m never whiny and asking for things, and the only thing I want… I sent it away.

I could call him… He’d drop everything and come right over. But… He should work. There is a reason why I sent him to work. That was where he was most needed. What if I was wrong though? What if he was most needed here, with me? No, no he’s the brain of the BAU.

But it’d be really nice if he stayed home with me.

Yeah, I made a mistake sending him to work. I’ve never felt so clingy in my entire life. Damn my stupid clinginess.

Did he know I was thinking about him? I must’ve, because he was calling me. Probably just checking in on me. I could ask him to come home. Unless he’s in the middle of helping a case and can’t come home.

“How are you feeling?” Yep, just calling to see how I was doing. It was probably a good thing that he was calling me. He probably just knew I wasn’t feeling any better.

“Could be better,” I paused as I looked over at his side of the bed. It was made but a little tousled around because of my sleeping. “Kinda wish you stayed here,” I whispered, mostly to myself.

“Already on the way home,” he stated like it was no big deal.

“Really?” I asked, feeling a little bit of excitement in my tone. Surely it just sounded like I was stuffy to Spencer. He laughed.

“Finished early. And… Emily noticed I was too distracted thinking about you. I’m about halfway there, do you need anything?”

“You… To get here quickly and give me all the cuddles in the world,” I dramatically sighed as I curled in on my side. “But… Safely!” I quickly added.

“I will be there soon, Dear,” Spencer mused before chuckling lightly. “Do you need anything?”

“No, I should be okay.”

“I’ll be home soon."

“Okay, bye,” I whispered before hanging up. I tossed my phone into the empty space beside me before curling back onto my side. Now that I knew Spencer would be home any minute, maybe I could sleep. Or maybe I should stay awake and wait for him.

Whatever, it didn’t matter. I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, Spencer was crawling into bed beside me and I was slowly waking up.

“Shh, go back to sleep,” he whispered as he pulled the blanket back over me. Although it felt like I was on fire, the blanket felt safe over me. Or maybe that was Spencer’s arms wrapped around me that made me feel safe.

“No, no,” I mumbled as I moved as close as possible to him. Spencer laughed lightly before pressing his lips to my forehead. “Don’t leave me again,” I whispered into his chest.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

{***}{***}{***}

if you have any comments/questions about this part, let me know here! please consider reblogging or leaving a comment if you’re a part of the taglist. it’s so much work tagging everyone.

not able to tag: @isabellasimps

@thebluetint @mggsprettygirl @muffin-cup @misshale21 @spenciegoob @reidspoet @ash19871962 @babebenhardy @flipperpenguins @kuolonsyoja

@broken-stardust @beepbooptoop @ray-lia

[yukidragon]

Our Life Snippet - Lazy Morning Intimacy

So, who’s ready for an extra long serving of shameless fluff from the first draft of my fan novelization of Our Life: Beginnings & Always? My philosophy in writing this is if I can add some more fluffy cuddly moments, I absolutely will, and the Step 3 moment Reflection offers one such opportunity right at the very start before, well, those of you who have played this moment know what happens later.

Spoilers for those who have not played the Step 3 DLC! If you don’t want to be spoiled, don’t read any further! If you don’t mind spoilery stuff, well, don’t let me stop you, but I highly, highly encourage you to play through the game before reading any of this.

As always, thanks go to @gb-patch for their wonderful game and their lovely feedback for my work, as well as everyone who likes, reblogs, and comments on these clips I’m posting here. You are all awesome.  💖

...

It wasn’t often that Jamie had the chance to enjoy breakfast at the Holden house. Ever since their parents decreed that they were ‘too old’ for sleepovers, she and Cove didn’t have many opportunities to enjoy that particular meal together, which made today a rare treat. It wasn’t especially fancy fare, but it was lovely to be able to spend time with her boyfriend almost as soon as she woke up. She was glad she impulsively asked if he wanted to have breakfast with her when they exchanged their usual good morning texts.

After a pleasant meal filled with light conversation and tasty food, Cove invited Jamie to retreat to his room to relax and let the lazy morning linger before any big activities began. That was, if they didn’t just decide to take it easy for the rest of the day. Neither of them had any plans in particular, with no prior commitments with friends, family, or work to distract them from just spending the day together. It wasn’t officially a date day, per say, or at least neither of them called it that yet. So far, they just decided to do whatever came to mind while enjoying each other’s company.

Of course, the first thing that came to Jamie’s mind was to cuddle with her boyfriend. When Cove sat down onto the bed, she didn’t hesitate to take a seat beside him, leaning into him. He hummed happily in approval and looped an arm around her to pull her in even closer.

A mischievous smile tugged at her lips as a new thought came to mind, and Jamie leaned in even closer. Cove raised an eyebrow at expression, only to yelp when she unexpectedly pushed her weight into him and tipped him back onto the bed. She fell along with him, giggling as they tumbled onto the mattress

Cove let out a chuckle of his own once he recovered from his surprise. “When I said we could relax, I didn’t mean going back to bed,” he said with a wry smile. Even still, he allowed her to nudge him gently back to the headboard so that they could both lounge comfortably on the bed properly with their heads resting on the pillows side by side. 

Jamie flashed Cove a satisfied grin before she snuggled up against his side, nuzzling her cheek against his as she basked in his gentle warmth. “You also said to make myself comfortable,” she teased, her eyes sparkling playfully as she rested her arm across his chest. “I’m very comfortable like this.”

Cove felt his heartbeat quicken, and he smiled back fondly at Jamie, nuzzling her cheek in return. “Me too,” he said softly.

Though maybe he was a little too comfortable.

Cove couldn’t help but be aware of the fact that they were both lying in his bed together. A prickling of nerves rose up that he quickly did his best to tamp down to not ruin the intimate moment they were sharing. It was fine, no big deal, he told himself. They were both fully dressed, on top of the sheets, and it was broad daylight. They cuddled plenty of times like this before on sofas and the ground. Heck, this was nothing compared to when they shared a bed when they were younger.

The flickering of nervousness didn’t escape Jamie’s notice. She softened her expression and reached up to gently run her fingers through her shy boyfriend’s hair. She had intended to steal a kiss or two and see where that would take them, but she decided that could wait until later. Just enjoying this moment with Cove was enough for her.

The touch was soothing, and Cove slowly started to relax as he leaned into Jamie. The anxious air that had threatened to pull him out of the moment gradually dissipated as her comforting warmth slowly settled in. Soon, he felt at ease enough to slip his arm back around her, which she happily used as her new pillow. He couldn’t help but smile at seeing the content expression on his partner’s face as she smiled softly back at him.

A comfortable silence washed over the pair as they simply enjoyed the quiet moment of intimacy. At some point, Jamie went from stroking Cove’s hair to toying with it. His ponytail limited her in how much she could card her fingers through his hair, but there were plenty of long locks to ripple between her fingers.

It wasn’t the first time Jamie got the impulse to play with her boyfriend’s hair. Even before he was officially - or even unofficially - her boyfriend, she couldn’t help but want to run her fingers through those pretty pale green strands. When they were younger, Cove would jokingly try to avoid her hands, but always ‘failed’ to escape in the end, allowing her to have her way. Sometimes she teased him back by pretending to give up, and he would always pout adorably, which she would immediately chase away with a satisfying ruffle of his hair.

Occasionally, Jamie would go beyond playing to actual styling. She was no professional, but it was fun to wind her boyfriend’s hair into a braid or two sometimes. Cove never minded, even if the braids rarely lasted that long after she was finished making them. It also didn’t escape her notice that he would sometimes shiver or let out an adorable pleasured little mumble when she raked her fingers along his scalp. It was an enjoyable experience for both of them, and sometimes she suspected that was one of the reasons why he let his hair grow as long as he did.

Jamie had no such grand designs now. Today she simply basked in the freedom to enjoy the feeling of his soft hair sliding between her fingers as she listened to the happy noises her partner occasionally let slip.

Although much more at ease, Cove couldn’t help the small traces of nervous energy that left him with the need to do something with his hands. He ran his thumb across her shoulder with the hand that was limited by Jamie resting on the upper part of his arm. With his freer hand, he decided to return the favor she paid to him and ran his fingers through her long deep blue hair, starting with stroking back her bangs before sliding his hand down along the entire length of her hair until he reached the ends at her hips. The feeling was soft and silky, and she sighed softly at the attention.

On impulse, Cove poked one of the small buns on top of his girlfriend’s head. Space buns were her preferred hairstyle of choice nowadays, and there was something satisfying about poking them that he couldn’t quite explain. Maybe it was the feel of them, or the way the bunched up hair bounced when poked that did it, but most likely it was because of the amused looks Jamie gave him whenever he did. She wore one such expression now, and he couldn’t help but chuckle a bit before giving her bun another playful poke.

Entertained, Jamie let Cove have her way with her buns, poking and prodding them as he pleased. The potential for innuendo wasn’t lost on her, but she let it go unsaid. As fun as it would be to make him flustered by suggesting that he might enjoy playing with a different set of buns she had even more, she didn’t want to interrupt the light, playful moment.

Jamie would just save that little bit of wordplay for later, preferably when the mood was good enough that Cove might take her up on the invitation.

Despite the steamy thoughts that skirted through her mind, Jamie did her best to focus on enjoying the lazy moment between them. It was lovely to just share such casual intimacy with Cove.

Jamie wasn’t alone in trying to ignore her more hormonal urges. As much as Cove enjoyed playing with her hair, focusing on touching her as he did made it impossible for him to stop thinking about the fact that they were both lying on his bed together. He was keenly aware of the gentle warmth of her body pressed against him, how soft and inviting her pink lips looked as she smiled at him.

Eventually, Cove realized he needed something else to occupy his hands if he didn’t want to risk disrupting the peaceful moment. Shifting about a bit, he fished his cell phone out of his pocket. Although Jamie raised an eyebrow at that and at being displaced from her cozy spot when he moved around, she held no objections as he turned his phone on and busied himself with it. Instead, she simply readjusted her position to get comfortable once he was settled again.

Sifting through missed texts and emails, Cove soon managed to distract himself from the urges that ruffled his nerves and relaxed back into the moment. He spotted a number of texts he missed from his dad, and for a moment he wondered if everything was okay until he realized Cliff just sent him a bunch of images last night.

A warm smile graced his face as Cove slowly scrolled his way through the photographs, nostalgia washing over him. Each photo brought him back to the moment it was taken, allowing him to lose himself in the priceless memories he shared with his friends, family, and especially the special person he held so comfortably close at that very moment.

Some photos brought back sweet memories, others a little more on the bitter side of sweet, and then there were the funnier ones. One such silly photo seized Cove’s attention, and he couldn’t help the burst of laughter that escaped him.

The sound immediately snapped Jamie out of her relaxed stupor and brought her back to the present. She raised an eyebrow at Cove, but he failed to notice her questioning look, too preoccupied by whatever was on his phone’s screen.

“What’s so funny?” Jamie asked as she propped herself up on her arm to get a better look at his face and catch a glimpse of the phone’s screen.

Cove finally turned to look at Jamie, his eyes crinkled with mirth and a smirk playing on his lips. “Dad scanned some old photos,” he chuckled. “You know…”

Now that Jamie was no longer using his arm as a pillow, Cove was free to use it to draw a rectangle in the air. “Printed out ones,” he explained, “back from when I was little.” He waved his phone a bit with his other hand. “He texted it all to me last night, I guess. I’ve been checking them out.”

Jamie sat up completely, her dark blue eyes flying open wide. “You were looking at your kiddie photos and didn’t tell me?!” she gasped, almost scandalized at missing out on something so priceless.

Cove barely resisted the urge to chuckle, offering Jamie a bent smile as his eyes narrowed playfully. “I was gonna show you.” His gaze then slid away to his phone as his expression turned a little more hesitant. “I just wanted to look at it first to make sure there was nothing super embarrassing. You never know with my dad.”

His mouth pulled into a grimace as Cove could easily imagine all sorts of horrors his dad might have captured on film to unintentionally humiliate him until the end of time. “I mean… what if there’s a photo of me getting potty trained or something?”

Although Jamie empathized with his worries, she couldn’t help but giggle at the fraught expression Cove wore. “Yeah, that sounds like something your dad would do.”

Cove could only respond by clearing his throat nervously, his eyes skirting away from Jamie as he sat up as well. While he hadn’t come across any particularly humiliating photo of himself, he couldn’t quite shake the fear of what his dad’s well-meaning actions might have left for him to deal with this time.

Jamie offered her boyfriend a sympathetic smile before adding a slight bent to it. “Hey, how about this - if you let me look at your embarrassing baby photos, I’ll show you just as many of mine. My moms have plenty of them.”

The offer was tempting. Cove couldn’t help but wonder what sort of photos Jamie had in mind, but the price was just too steep. He merely chuckled awkwardly and shook his head as he pointedly kept his phone tilted away from her. She huffed and puffed out her cheeks in a mock pout at him for holding out on her, which elicited a genuine bout of laughter from him.

Once Cove got his mirth under control, he smiled at Jamie. “Anyway, before we forget, I was laughing ‘cause I came across a Halloween one from when I was eight. The year I was a zombie, remember?”

Jamie dropped her faux pout and nodded, her eyes lighting up eagerly. Cove shook his head at her excitement, a wry grin gracing his face as he finally offered the phone to her.

As Cove watched Jamie eagerly turn to his phone, he couldn’t help but shake his head again, this time at his kid self. “I never even liked zombies!” he said, a little baffled that he ever was so enthusiastic for such a costume. “All I wanted was to show off my new scar. And I needed to be something scary. I couldn’t be a normal person who had a scar, according to my eight-year-old mind.”

The photo displayed on the screen showed Cove from ten years in the past, and a pleasant wave of nostalgia washed over Jamie as she saw him the way he looked when they first met, minus the pink cast and plus a fair amount of makeup and fake blood. Little Cove posed for the camera with his fingers hooked like claws, his mouth open as though letting out what was probably supposed to be a fierce roar. She could easily remember the noises he made that night as he pretended to be a zombie on the hunt for brains. His hair looked even more wild and disheveled than it did after the most energetic day of play, going well with the tattered and ‘blood’ stained button up shirt he wore. His face was painted in gray down to his neck, marred with an array of fake scars that couldn’t compare to the real one on his arm.

Cove looked from Jamie to the phone and chuckled softly at the face his younger self pulled for the camera. “I was a little dork.”

Jamie eyed Cove at such self-depreciation before poking him on the nose. “You were a little cutie,” she insisted. “And now you’re a big cutie.”

Cove blinked at the playful action before blushing at the compliment. He had no words to reply to it except for a quiet, flustered chuckle as he rubbed his nose.

Jamie grinned at that reaction before turning back to the photo. As much as she enjoyed how adorable Cove looked while pretending to be a fierce monster, it was impossible to ignore the scar displayed so predominantly on his arm at that time. Her smile softened at the edges at the sight of such a large, jagged line of fresh skin that was such a deep and angry shade of red. The scar was a pale memory in the present, but back then it looked so painful, and at the time she found it hard not to worry about him and his comfort after his cast came off.

Still, Jamie refused to let that put a damper on the story and focused instead on just how much fun little Cove was having posing for the camera and remembering the way they played around with their costumes that night. She could vividly recall how she pretended to run away from him when he playfully growled that he wanted to eat her brains, and the memory made her smile grow stronger.

“Dad really wanted to be useful, as usual,” Cove said, bringing Jamie’s attention back to him in the present. Though he noticed the flicker of sadness that crossed her face and realized the reason for it, he was glad to see her perk up again just as quickly. “He came up with the idea of being an undead person. It was pretty good, huh?”

Jamie chuckled softly and nodded. “You had the best Halloween costume that year, hands down,” she said playfully. “I remember you getting lots of extra candy when adults realized the scar was real.” Her smile widened as she remembered just how jealous Lizzie had been at how much candy Cove got that year, especially since he only offered to share some of that extra candy with Jamie. “It must have been your greatest Halloween haul ever.”

Cove couldn’t help but chuckle as well as he thought back to that legendary candy haul as well. It took him a month to finish it all even with Jamie’s help.

Still, the topic of his scar brought his gaze back to the picture. Cove couldn’t help but compare the way it looked in the photo to its current appearance on his left arm. “I can’t believe how much larger my scar used to be,” he said quietly.

Jamie watched as Cove turned his focus to his arm with a soft smile on his face. He traced his fingers along the jagged line of pale flesh that remained with him even ten years on. It was an action that she had seen him do countless times, but it felt more significant in that moment.

A soft sigh escaped Cove, but his eyes and tone were playful. “Look at how tiny it is now.” He gave Jamie a look with big, pathetic eyes. “How am I gonna pretend to be tough without a big scar?”

It was a struggle for Jamie not to laugh at the expression Cove wore. “You better not do anything stupid to get a new scar,” she joked with a faux disapproving frown as she wagged a finger at him. “No matter how much you like them!”

Cove grinned back at Jamie. “I won’t.”

“Good,” Jamie said with a satisfied nod. “You’ve already got the coolest scar, no matter how small it gets.”

Cove felt his cheeks grow warm and his smile turned bashful. “Thanks.” He ducked his head away from Jamie, pleased with their joking exchange. Once again, his eyes drifted down to his scar as he continued to trace it.

“I really do like having this,” he admitted in a soft, shy voice. “Even if it is kind of little these days.”

Jamie’s expression softened as well, feeling as though Cove was sharing a big secret with her. She couldn’t help but feel happy to hear that he liked his scar despite whatever pain it must have caused him to get it. It was always wonderful whenever he opened up to her like this.

Cove glanced up at Jamie, a gentle smile gracing his lips. “I like yours, too.”

The unexpected compliment caught Jamie off guard, and heat rose in her cheeks, turning them pink. She couldn’t help but smile as she felt her chest flutter with butterflies. He never failed to think of her as well, especially since he knew that she was self-conscious of her own scars.

Unthinkingly, Jamie brought her hand up to her upper arm and traced some of the countless jagged little white lines that marred her pale skin. There were matching scars in the same place on her other arm, as well as her thighs and her chest. Unlike Cove, these scars were not the result of an accident, but her skin not being able to keep up with her sudden growth during puberty.

Back during her early teenage years when the stretch marks were fresh and an angry purplish-red, Jamie always kept them hidden. Puberty had been rough on her, dealing a blow to her self-esteem as well as her body, and being covered in so many scars left her feeling ugly even though she never once thought of Cove’s scar like that.

It took time for Jamie to accept her scars, and she knew that Cove was a big part of why. Seeing the way he took such quiet pride in his scar always made her question how she thought of hers. More than that, he always made her feel beautiful, and he was always the first to remind her  whenever she needed it. That was why she was no longer afraid to wear clothes that exposed her scars like she did now.

Jamie scooted in closer to Cove as she smiled adoringly at him, placing her hand on top of his. “Thank you, Cove.”

Cove turned back to face Jamie fully. He finally let go of his scar so that he could take her hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. He felt at peace with his scar and was happy to see the same reflected on her face as well. Their scars held such meaning to them despite coming from unhappy sources.

Jamie squeezed his hand back as she drifted even closer. “Could I touch your scar?”

Cove blinked, taken aback by the request. Usually, Jamie wasn’t shy about touching him without asking first, particularly someplace as innocent as his arm. Still, he quickly realized why she might hesitate to do that now and smiled gently at her as he nodded easily. “Yeah, that’s okay.”

Jamie gave Cove’s hand one more squeeze before letting go of it. Lightly, she pressed her fingertips against the edges of his scar. With great care, she slowly ran her thumb along the entire length of it, following the jagged angles the old wound took. The pale flesh was rough when compared to the rest of his skin, which was soft, but with goosebumps rising quickly along his arm as she stroked his scar.

The touch, so delicate and gentle, left Cove feeling a bit lightheaded. Jamie’s touch always felt wonderful and often left him feeling butterflies, but somehow the feel of her paying such careful attention to his scar was particularly powerful. A choked breath escaped him and a wobbly smile played across his face as he lost himself in the feeling.

The dizzied smile Cove wore along with the light pink of his cheeks drew Jamie in with the urge to do more. She locked eyes with him, staring deep into his aquamarine eyes as she took a hold of his arm and raised it up towards her.

A quiet gasp escaped Cove when she realized what Jamie had in mind. He couldn’t look away from her dark blue eyes as she stared so intently into him even as she placed a soft kiss on the old wound that marked him. The feeling of her lips, warm and soft, pressed so tenderly against that particular place sent shivers up his spine, and he let out a tiny squeak.

Jamie smiled against Cove’s skin as she appreciated his adorable reaction, as well as the way he looked at her with overwhelming adoration. She kissed him again and again, tracing the entire length of his scar with her lips like she did with her fingers before.

It was impossible for Cove to stay still when Jamie was showing him such affection. He reached up with his free hand to touch her arm. With his thumb, he brushed aside the edge of her open sleeve, giving him better access to the countless little white lines marking her pale skin. The texture was interesting, feeling so similar yet so different from his own scar. Because of their size and number, he found his fingers constantly alternating between soft skin and rougher tissue. It was difficult to trace any one scar from start to finish like she did for him, so instead he sought out to touch every single one.

The touch was electric, and Jamie could feel her heartbeat speed up as Cove caressed her so lovingly. “Cove…”

Cove shivered again as Jamie murmured his name against his skin, setting off sparks that made his body burn pleasantly. It urged him to lean forward, his eyes gleaming with the fire she set ablaze inside him.

Jamie raised her head and instinctively matched his movement, drawing nearer to Cove as her eyes drifted closed. She felt his lips gently meet hers, and she melted into the tender kiss. She held a little more firmly onto his arm as she fell deeper into him, feeling like she might drown in the depths of her feelings for him.

Cove all too quickly lost himself in the moment and in Jamie. It felt so wonderful, so right to be her like this, to touch and kiss her. He loved her so much that it was almost overwhelming, but knowing that she loved him as well kept him grounded.

Eventually they finally drifted apart, breathless and dazed from the kiss, their faces flushed with heat. When Jamie opened her eyes, she saw Cove gazing back at her with his mesmerizing ocean blue eyes. The look he gave her was spellbinding, filled with so much love and adoration that made her heart hammer hard against her ribcage. It told her without words that the feelings he had for her were just as immense as hers were for him.

Cove leaned in again, this time resting his forehead gently against Jamie’s. With heavy lidded eyes, he simply enjoyed gazing deeply into her blue eyes that always reminded him of the night sky. No matter how many times he saw them, they always captivated him. He could lose himself in those beautiful eyes of hers.

The feeling of his warm breath tickling her skin made Jamie shiver a little, especially the way it brushed against her lips like the ghost of a kiss. With their heads touching, his hand on her arm and hers on his, she felt entirely entwined with Cove. It felt so right.

Time ceased to have any meaning in that moment as they gazed deeply into their partner’s eyes and drank in the closeness and warmth they shared. Seconds or minutes might have passed, but neither of them cared as they lost themselves in each other.

[loving-inkpressions]

Burning Up [6/?]

Summary: When she applied to be the secretary for managing partner Rosé McCorkell, Denali hadn't expected to end up working for the biggest pain in her ass, nor did she expect anything beyond a professional relationship.

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: A bit of heat, a sprinkle of potential drama and a spoonful of courage. It's been a while, but I do hope you enjoy the latest development between these two. (:

Prefer reading it on AO3?

If there was one thing for certain, Denali was sure that the relationship between her and Rosé had shifted from professional to an almost completely different territory.

That morning when she had arrived to find the bouquet of roses and note on her desk, she had been completely taken by surprise at the gesture. She had stood there staring at the card while hugging the beautiful red blooms to her chest for a long while, a goofy smile on her face, until Kandy had walked up to her with a knowing look on her face.

“Are you sure the two of you aren’t-���

“No Kandy, I’m pretty sure.” Denali had then passed the card to Kandy, who let out a low whistle as she read it.

“Looks like she’s in for much more than just your ass.”

Denali laughed as she took the card back.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

And it seemed like it was true. Rosé was gentler with Denali now and somehow bolder than before, the touches between them increasing even more.

The fleeting touches were just that, fleeting. Just a swipe of her fingers on the inside of Denali’s wrists, a gentle hand on her elbow when Denali had lost her balance once, touching her forearm when they were both laughing about a funny fact in one of Rosé’s cases, random tugs to her curls or tapping her on the nose.

And then there were the ones that happened behind closed doors, when there was no one else around. Those were the ones that made Denali’s breath stutter and her heart melt.

Rosé would catch her by the hand and lace their fingers together, refusing to let go when she led her to the car to drive her home. Kisses to her knuckles were a common thing now, and then there were the ones to the cheek that she would give when Denali wasn’t paying attention and the featherlight forehead kisses when they parted.

But even then, there was still no label to what was going on between the two of them. Denali wasn’t really sure what to make of it, and yet at the same time she didn’t know how to address it. It was obvious that whatever was between them was growing exponentially, and yet she still felt a little unsure. They never met outside of work, bar the lunches they’d have together and Rosé sending Denali back home.

It made her wonder if this was just an office fling, but deep inside something told her that it wasn’t.

———

It was a little after 9pm when Denali was finally done with the final draft of the quarterly report. After printing out the thick document and walking back to her desk, she dropped into her chair, feeling exhausted. Leaning back and stretching, she swivelled around and noticed that besides herself, there was no one else on her floor, everyone else already having left.

Rubbing her eyes, she packed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. Grabbing the report, still a little warm from the printer, she made her way to Rosé’s office.

The walk there was cold and the corridor empty, but Denali was used to it. After all, it wasn’t her first time staying so late.

Walking over to the door she was so familiar with, she knocked on it. After waiting a second, Denali entered the office and saw Rosé on the settee, open boxes and papers strewn all around the space with scribbled post it notes pasted on selected print outs.

Despite the late hour, Rosé still looked immaculate, her make up still close to perfect. The only things that gave away that she was stressed out was how her auburn hair was now up in a messy bun and her blazer was slung over the back of the settee, the sleeves of her white blouse pushed up to reveal the tattoos that ran up her arms.

“Hey Rosé, I have the final draft of the quarterly report ready for you.”

Rosé looked up, and smiled wearily at the blonde.

“Thank you Denali, you can put it on my desk.”

Nodding in response, Denali set it on the managing partner’s desk and noticed her empty coffee cup. Without a second thought, she quietly placed her bag at the side, grabbed the cup and left the office, returning 5 minutes later with a fresh cup of coffee. She dropped down onto the empty space next to Rosé, jolting the older woman out of her thoughts, and held the cup out to her.

“You look like you need coffee and some help.” It took Rosé a moment to register the cup of coffee before she took it from her.

“Thank you for this, angel, but you don’t have to stay.”

Denali shook her head. “No way am I leaving you to do all of this by yourself, not when you have a perfectly healthy secretary here that is more than happy to help you.” Rosé was about to argue, but Denali stopped her by pressing her finger against her lips. “I insist, and no arguing! I want to help, and nothing you say will change my mind.”

Rosé stared at the look of stubborn determination on Denali’s face, then down to the finger pressed against her lips and sighed.

She took ahold of Denali’s hand, kissing the back of it as she stroked it with her thumb.

“Fine then, I won’t argue because I know how stubborn you can get.”

Denali beamed and set about helping Rosé to sort out a box of transcripts, completely oblivious to the look of adoration that was on the other woman’s face.

The next few hours consisted of the sound of shuffling papers, notes being written and little snatches of discussion between the two of them. They were slowly able to build a solid case together, the board Rosé had in her office for such cases like this one soon filled with sticky notes and papers stuck onto it. Denali being there was the help that Rosé hadn’t thought she’d needed, with her lending a fresh pair of eyes to the case, pointing out tiny little details and inconsistencies in the court transcripts that Rosé might have otherwise missed in her quest for finding the smoking gun.

They decided to take a break to order some food while they were going through the fifth box of materials, the two of them side by side on the settee eating some Chinese takeaway that Rosé had ordered in from one of the few places that delivered at that hour.

They were pressed much closer than usual, but Denali didn’t say anything, focusing instead on her food and not on how their elbows would knock against each other every now and then, and how they were practically connected from hip to knee, flushed against each other.

They were chattering about for a bit, about how Kandy seemed to be crushing on an associate that was under Lagoona and then how Jan was now engaged to Nicky, having been proposed to not too long ago when Nicky had whisked her away to Paris and proposed to her in the middle of the Louvre.

“That is actually really romantic. Kind of cliched, but in the best possible way.” Denali commented as she finished the last bit of her stir fry. She placed the empty carton on the coffee table.

They fell into a comfortable silence, and Denali could feel the warmth that was coming from Rosé’s side, thankful that the redhead was dressed in her usual pantsuit today. She didn’t know how she’d react if the bare skin of their legs were pressed against each other since she was wearing a skirt that rode up to almost her mid thigh when she sat down.

That didn’t mean that she didn’t like being close to Rosé though.

After a moment’s hesitation, she leaned against Rosé’s side, who was sipping at her iced lemon tea.

Usually, Denali wasn’t the one who took the initiative, being more careful and shy about the way the two of them were getting along, which was why Rosé paused mid sip, surprised. She looked at Denali, who was pointedly looking away, her cheeks a dusty pink. Rosé looked down at the hand that was slowly inching towards her own and immediately hooked their pinkies together, chuckling when she saw the blush on Denali’s cheeks deepen.

The blonde looked soft and tired, and yet somehow still warm and content despite the amount of paperwork that surrounded them.

“Hey, Nali?” Denali turned to look at her. “Want a sip?” She offered the cup to Denali, straw pointed in her direction and Denali leaned forward, catching the straw between her lips and taking a sip, her cheeks hollowing just a little before she innocently looked up through her long lashes, dark eyes connecting with hazel ones.

There was a zing of electricity between them as the redhead stared, her eyes drawn to the lips wrapped around the straw then back to Denali’s large brown eyes. There were thoughts floating about in both heads, both not so different from the other, the tension between them thickening even more.

When Denali finally released the straw, Rosé cleared her throat and set the cup down on the coffee table while Denali muttered that she would clear the empty food containers. She reluctantly withdrew her hand from Rosé’s and busied herself with packing up the takeaway refuse and scurrying out of the room, leaving Rosé to stare at the straw that Denali’s lips had been on just moments before.

By the time Denali was back in Rosé’s office, it was as if nothing had happened and they continued on, though the tension was still there.

It was almost three in the morning when they were finally done. Rosé now had everything she needed to win the case. The only things left were to type everything out and to make a few calls, all of which could be done the next morning.

Rosé pinned the final note onto the board and stood back, taking one last look at everything that they had found to ensure that it was an airtight case, then turned around to find Denali asleep on the couch, curled up against the arm rest. Rosé looked fondly at her, walking over and crouching down in front of her so she was eye level, watching Denali as she slept.

She didn’t have the heart to wake her secretary, not when she looked so peaceful, but she knew it had to be done. She couldn’t leave her sleeping like that until morning. Rosé reached out a hand to lightly stroke the top of her head, chuckling when Denali wrinkled her nose cutely and shifted in her sleep.

Suppressing a yawn, Rosé shook her head and stood, checking her watch before settling next to Denali on the couch, deciding to take a quick rest of her own before she would drive them both home. Carefully, she shifted Denali so that she was now sleeping in her arms, smiling when the blonde settled in her embrace with a contented sigh.

Minutes later, the redhead too was lost in her own dreams.

———

It was hot, almost too hot.

Denali could feel the featherlight touches that were too familiar all around her, brushing against every exposed part of her body, leaving her gasping. There were low whispers in her ear, the smell of vanilla flooding her senses and then light kisses on her knuckles, the back of her hands, the middle of her palms, trailing up her arm, the point of her shoulder, collarbones, neck, her chin, her cheeks, but never her mouth.

She tried to reach out and grab hold of whatever it was, but was met with nothing but air and the sound of breathy laughs and the ache between her legs that was present more often than not at nights when she was alone in her bed, thinking of familiar arms and tattooed fingers.

Denali felt arms wrap around her waist, teasing the skin there, tracing and looping mindless patterns, puffs of air against her neck and she whimpered, clenching her thighs together in an attempt to build some friction.

Tuts could be heard and the feeling of lips on her neck, collarbones, fingers dancing down to her thighs and she felt herself slowly giving in, parting her legs just a little.

“Nali…”

She spun around, letting the hands guide her.

“Baby…”

Letting the fingers trail closer to where she yearned them to touch her-

“Denali, it’s time to wake up.”

Eyes snapping open, Denali awoke to find herself back in the office, half lying in Rosé’s arms. Swallowing hard, conscious of the ache between her legs, she pulled away from Rosé, noting the smirk on the other woman’s face.

“Did you have a good dream?” Rosé asked, reaching out to tuck an errant curl back behind Denali’s ear. “Because it sounded like you were having a good time.”

Face flushing to a bright red, Denali opened her mouth to reply, but no actual words came out. Her brain was still trying to play catch up, still caught in the feelings and sensation of her dream versus the actual person she was dreaming of before her.

Rosé watched a flustered Denali trying to formulate a reply for a while before finally letting her off the hook with a quick kiss to her cheek, effectively silencing her.

Denali looked back at Rosé with wide eyes, her cheeks still tinged pink, and the ginger smiled at her.

“Come on Nali, it’s time to go home.”

Linking their hands together, Rosé scooped up both their bags and tugged Denali out of the office, down the familiar path towards her car so that she could drive them both home.

If Denali’s fingers were just a little tighter around hers than usual, Rosé didn’t say anything.

———

“Do you think it’d be weird if I asked Rosé out?”

Kandy looked up from her phone.

“What?”

Denali twiddled her thumbs, ignoring the look of utter disbelief on Kandy’s face.

It was the day after Denali had helped Rosé out with her case and they were both at the bar after work. Denali had been a lot more self conscious around Rosé than usual after having woken up from such a heated dream and in the arms of the very person she had been dreaming of. Rosé seemed to have not really noticed, having been too busy with working on the final touches of her case. By the end of the day, Denali had managed to slip out of the office after dropping a quick text to Rosé that she was leaving early and pulled a whining Kandy out to a random bar that thankfully hadn’t been too crowded.

She needed a drink badly and a friend to help sort through the mess of her thoughts, and at that point in time, Kandy had seemed like the perfect person.

“Bitch, aren’t you both already dating?”

Denali shook her head, looking up to thank the bartender when he dropped off both their drinks. “No, we’re not. We’ve just been- I don’t even know.”

Kandy continued staring at Denali, finally putting her phone away.

“So if you two haven’t been dating, or screwing each other-“

“Not this again-“

“Then what the fuck have you two been doing?”

“I don’t know!” Denali whined and Kandy rolled her eyes as she pulled her drink to her.

“Denali, the way the two of you have been acting, it’s almost as if you’re already married or something. She gives you gifts, drives you home, brings you out to lunch, heck she even fired that stupid girl the other day- Which was well deserved by the way because that bitch had it coming- So what do you think is happening between the two of you?”

Denali was silent. Kandy had a point.

“An office fl-“

“If you say office fling, I will smack you so hard-“

“Okay, maybe not an office fling-“

“You think?”

“But I still don’t know what it is,” Kandy stared incredulously at Denali. “We never actually talked about it.” She mumbled, shifting in her seat, suddenly feeling self conscious.

This time Kandy fell silent as the two of them drank from their glasses. There was a couple of seconds of thoughtful silence from Kandy before she finally asked.

“What do you want it to be?”

Denali was stunned. That was a question she hadn’t really thought of before. She had been so caught up on what was happening, on what it could be, on all the maybes, that she hadn’t stopped to think about what she actually wanted.

What she wanted them to be.

She pursed her lips in thought. Putting aside the fact that Rosé was a strong, intelligent and successful woman, she was also sweet and attentive. Sure, she could come across as proud at times, but that wasn’t without merit. She was warm and caring, and the things she said and did to Denali, the looks she gave and the words unspoken, Denali definitely didn’t hate it.

She loved it.

Maybe that was it. Maybe it was true, what she had been avoiding. Maybe she really was in-

“Denali?”

Denali jumped in surprise, twisting around in her seat to find a familiar statuesque blonde woman.

“Kameron! It’s been a while.” She smiled brightly at Kameron.

“Too long, in my opinion,” Kameron smiled back charmingly, then gestured at the empty bar stool next to Denali. “May I?”

“Yes, of course.” Denali nodded profusely and Kameron sat next to her, ordering a gin and tonic from the passing bartender. Denali heard the sound of a throat clearing and remembered that Kandy was on her other side.

“Right, Kameron this is my friend Kandy. Kandy, this is Kameron.” Denali quickly introduced the two.

“Nice to meet you, Kandy.”

“Likewise, Miss Mi- Kameron.” Denali turned to look at Kandy, brows furrowed in confusion. She hadn’t mentioned Kameron’s surname, so why did it seem like Kandy knew what it was?

“So how have you been since I last saw you with Miss McCorkell at the gala?” Taking a sip of her drink once the bartender had dropped it off.

“Good, everything’s been good. Busy with cases, but then again, what’s new? What about you, Kameron? How’s your-” Denali paused, realising she didn’t know exactly what it was that Kameron did. Kameron caught on and chuckled in what seemed like a mixture of amusement and relief.

“I’ve been good too, busy. I realise that with what happened the last time, I never managed to get your number.”

“Oh.” Denali let out, surprised at Kameron’s forwardness.

“Can I have it? For business purposes, of course.”

Denali relaxed at that and agreed, keying her number into Kameron’s phone when she passed it over. Nodding, Kameron pocketed her phone and downed the rest of the drink before getting up.

“As short as our time was together, ladies, I have to go. Business calls.” Catching Denali’s hand, she dropped a kiss to the back of it with a smile. “I’ll be seeing you real soon, Denali.” Kameron winked at her, nodding at Kandy in farewell, then left.

Denali shook her head in amusement at Kameron’s antics and turned back to Kandy, only to find her friend staring at her with her mouth open.

“What?”

“What? What do you mean by what?! Denali, how is it that you managed to get the attention of both Rosé McCorkell and Kameron Michaels?”

Denali frowned. “Kameron? I just met her at the anniversary gala. It’s the first time I’ve seen her since then.”

Kandy narrowed her eyes, sceptical of Denali’s innocence.

“Do you even know who she is?”

“You mean Kameron?”

“Yes, I mean Kameron Michaels.”

Denali looked at her in confusion. “Why do you keep saying her name like that?”

“Oh god, you really don’t know, do you?” Kandy rolled her eyes. “What did I do to get a friend as clueless as you?”

Denali gasped and smacked Kandy’s arm. “Hey! I resent that. What’s the big deal about who she is anyways?”

“What’s the big deal- Girl, I’m not telling you shit. You can google her name later and find out yourself. Anyways, that’s not important. So what are you going to do about the situation between you and your hot boss?”

Denali groaned as she buried her face in her hands, her mind once again preoccupied with Rosé, the identity of Kameron now swept under the rug.

———

Denali stood in front of the lift doors with Rosé next to her, fidgeting with the hem of her blouse as they waited for the lift.

After her talk with Kandy, Denali had wanted to make the first move and ask Rosé out, but there was some hesitation on her part. As much as she wanted to ask her out, there was still a small seed of doubt in her. She was afraid that whatever she was feeling was one sided, and that there was a chance that this was all just a game to Rosé. Outside of work, she really didn’t know too much about her on a personal level.

When she had said as much to Kandy, the other girl had promptly smacked her up the back of her head and called her an overthinking idiot with a well meaning, “If you’re that unsure, then ask her!” tacked at the end.

“Denali?” She jolted and looked at Rosé. “Penny for your thoughts?” The redhead asked.

This was it, this was her moment. This was when she asked Rosé.

“I-” Denali looked into Rosé’s eyes, her heart skipping a beat.

“It’s nothing.”

She was a coward.

Rosé frowned, turning to face Denali as she reached out to catch Denali’s hand in hers.

“No baby, I can tell something is bothering you. The last time we didn’t talk, it ended with the both of us being miserable.” She tilted Denali’s chin up with her forefinger so that they were face to face. “Talk to me.”

Denali squirmed under Rosé’s watchful gaze, then finally blurted out.

“What does all of this mean?”

Rosé raised a brow.

“All of this?”

Denali nodded, the words she had been holding back now falling easily from her mouth. “Yes, everything. You know, the gifts, the jokes, driving me home almost all the time, the- The touches, all your gestures. I don’t want to mistake your kindness for anything other than that if that’s all it is.”

Rosé let out a laugh, the expression on her face falling into one of incredulity.

“Kindness? Is that really what you’ve been thinking? That I’ve only been doing all these things out of the goodness of my heart?”

The blonde blushed, suddenly feeling embarrassed for saying what she did. Maybe it was a mistake after all.

“I didn’t want to assume-” She stuttered, trying to turn away when she felt Rosé grip her chin between her thumb and index finger, forcing her to look her in the eye.

“Denali, let me make this clear to you to avoid any misunderstandings.”

Rosé took a step closer, the two of them now inches apart. Denali’s heart thudded loudly in her chest, her eyes unable to look away from Rosé’s.

“I. Want. You.”

Denali swallowed. “Is this your subtle way of saying you want to be my sugar mommy.” Denali joked weakly.

There was a pause before Rosé chuckled, the tension between them dissipating just a little. “Angel, if I wanted you as my sugar baby, I’d have just asked outright when I first saw you, and believe me when I say that you would have said yes.” She cupped Denali’s cheek. “Besides, I don’t want a sugar baby, and you wouldn’t make a very good one either.”

“That’s good, and thank you? I think.” Denali laughed nervously. Rosé’s eyes crinkled as she continued.

“I need someone who is so much more than just a pretty face. I need someone who’s smart and fights back. Someone who doesn’t just sit down and take it. What I would want is a partner. An equal.” Denali stared back at Rosé, speechless. She didn’t know what to say, not expecting Rosé to be so transparent with her.

Rosé stroked the blonde’s cheek with her thumb.

“And if it just so happens that I am able to spoil my partner, then I’d like to spoil my partner too.”

“What do you mean?” Denali asked, her heart racing.

“What do you think I’m saying?”

“I- I don’t know.”

Rosé shook her head, an amused smile stretching across her lips.

“Denali, you’re not stupid. You know exactly what I’m saying.”

Butterflies started fluttering in Denali’s stomach, her face warm and skin starting to tingle when Rosé cupped her face with both hands.

“But I have nothing that I can give you.” She whispered.

Rosé stepped closer to Denali.

“I don’t want anything from you,” She leaned in, their lips now just a hair's breadth away.

“I just want you.”

And the distance between the two of them disappeared as Rosé pulled Denali into a kiss.

She gasped and Rosé took advantage of that split second to slip in her tongue, the two of them tasting each other for the first time after months of dancing around each other. Denali dropped her bag and wrapped her arms around Rosé’s neck, letting herself drown in the sensation of being consumed by the other woman as she felt the hands on her face move, one moving down to her waist and holding her tight against the curves of Rosé’s body, and the other slid down to her ass, Denali squeaking when Rosé’s hand squeezed at it.

Rosé teased her for a few more seconds, before finally pulling away, taking in the dazed look on Denali’s face, both their lipsticks smudged and breathing heavier than before.

The blonde stared back at the other woman, before finally smiling, her eyes shining brightly.

“Rosé, will you go out with me?” She asked shyly, fingers playing with the loose curls at the nape of Rosé’s neck.

The redhead laughed, pulling her closer.

“Nothing would make me happier.”

And she pulled Denali in for another kiss.

[hollyhomburg]

Hi! I sent a previous ask about the Sandcastle series- I would love to see whatever you have and are comfortable sharing 😍

SANDCASTLES: UNRELEASED SNIPPET (YOONMINJOONSEOK X READER) (OMEGAVERSE AU)

SUMMARY: You and Hoseok had a bad fight, so bad that you don’t know if you can come back from it. will you let the rest of your relationship with the others suffer? or will you decide that they’re better off without you? moreover- what will happen when you leave them. 

TAGS: angst, leaving long term relationships, polyamory, details of toxic relationships, secret-keeping,  omega! reader, Omega! Jimin, Alpha! Namjoon, Alpha! Hoseok, Alpha! Yoongi

W/c: 4.2k

A/N: this is a stolen part from a series I never plan to finish, it is angst and there is absolutely no resolution planned to be given to you. please note: the reader is actually pregnant with Namjoon’s kid during this, but none of them know- not even the reader. there is very little editing in this. I'm just posting this because it would just sit in my drafts otherwise. there is more, I will give it if people want it 

- your hands hover over your computer screen, your email brought up as you hear Namjoon leave the apartment. A solitary tear drifts down your cheek as you look around the apartment. Everything is immaculately clean; the pictures on the wall of the 5 of you are immaculately aligned. 

- The next room over, Jimin Yoongi and Hoseok sleep, probably wrapped up in one another. You know that Hoseok’s probably breathing against Jimin’s skin, and Jimin is probably sighing into Yoongi’s strong arms. the three of them the picture of domestic bliss. 

- You know how that bed feels, how it's warm and comfortable and that it feels like someone is untangling your worries one by one. 

- But you also know that when you go in there it will immediately stop feeling like that, Hoseok is always the light sleeper and will notice the moment that you walk in. Hoseok will turn away, making sure there’s no room in between Jimin and him and no room on his side, and Yoongi will be too lethargic to realize you’re behind him- to asleep to cuddle you, and you’d spend the rest of the night cold and curled to your side. And you couldn’t bear that another night.  

- Your apartment feels so cold to you, Goosebumps rise on your arms. You don’t want to feel cold anymore. 

- You look at your email again, bringing up the one from the company that desperately wants to hire you, you take a look at the benefits, better than your old job, at the apartment they plan to give you, at the hours- less work than before. Then at the address- one city away. 

- You wipe away your tears and begin to type, your hands shaking, 

- I am very pleased to inform you that I accept your generous offer of employment. When can I start? 

- You swallow back the lump in your throat, telling yourself that it’s for the best, they’ll be happier without you around. Without you hovering in the relationship and looking at them forlornly all the time. Your relationship was finished, it was time to say goodbye. they’d be happier without you. 

- You know the thing in this apartment that’s cold isn’t them- it’s you, and maybe when you leave it will get warmer. Try as you might you cant be somewhere you’re not wanted. 

- Even if it will hurt Namjoon, you think he’ll get over it eventually- after all, he’ll have everyone else to comfort him, yoongi will too, you know jimin will never forgive you- he’ll feel so betrayed that you left. But Hoseok will be so glad that you’re gone, finally smiling again without fear of offending you. This is what the 5 of you need. You’re sure of it. 

- Over the next few days- the company contacts you with everything you’ll need to pick up and leave, a plane ticket is sent to you, the address of your apartment, and they arrange for someone to pick you up from the airport. even movers to take your stuff- they’re being terribly kind. 

- For the first few days you try not to let the fact that you’re leaving disrupt your rhythm. 

- You don’t know how you’re going to tell them you’re leaving- but you know it has to be soon. But every time you look at them- how happy they are, you can't imagine making them so sad.  You don’t want them to try and convince you to stay when you know it's not what they really want- but at least that’s what you think 

- What you don’t know is that Namjoon has started to resent the way that Hoseok has pushed you away, he’s already planning a special one on one date between the two of you. 

- And Jimin has started to feel guilty, about giving Hoseok the love that he so desperately craves, when whenever Jimin goes to you Hoseok pushed him away. And Yoongi is left to wonder why Hoseok can’t just forgive you. it’s been more than a few weeks now, and he’s beginning to worry that things won't get better. Because he wants them too. 

- And Hoseok- Hoseok doesn’t know how to forgive you. he wants to but he doesn't know how. Every time he thinks about you- about what you’ve lost he just wants to take you into his arms and never let you go. But then his mouth opens and he says the opposite or treats you with such a cold shoulder that even he feels it. 

- But then a stroke of good luck happens barely a week before you're supposed to leave. Namjoon’s case is reassigned to a courthouse on the other side of the city- and he’s always so wrapped up when that happens that you know he usually sleeps at his office. 

- And Hoseok comes to the others talking about a dance showcase, a convention that will be all day- saying that they could make a day of it, Yoongi and Jimin agree with a smile, Jimin jumping up and down excitedly, you watch from where you're sorting through papers idly listening in. 

- “do you want to come y/n?” Yoongi asks, his eyes watching you watch them, “you should totally come!” Jimin starts saying, jumping up to lean on Yoongi’s arm, as he starts to talk to you about the costumes that will likely be there. About this one restaurant in that area that they could go to. He even talks about the final showcase- a ballet rendition of a west side story that will go off at 8 pm, the same time your flight leaves. 

- Behind them, Hoseok isn’t looking at you instead busying himself by fiddling with something in his hands, but you see his jaw tighten as he looks away, the distaste clear on his face. Yoongi’s gaze flicks to Hoseok’s and for the first time you see a bit of anger in it, maybe it’s always been there- or maybe you’re just creating things in your head. Looking for a reason not to go.  

- You excuse yourself easily- saying that you were hoping to get a lot of work done that day- and that dances aren’t really your thing. And they aren’t- but for Jimin you always used to make exceptions just to placate him. You string a fake smile onto your face and say that you’re sure that it’d be better if you don’t go. 

- Yoongi can't help but recognize a double meaning in your words, his eyes fixing on you with a frown as you start talking to jimin about a new pastry that they were offering at the café as you start to get dinner ready for them. And Yoongi steps in, offering to help you

- He knows something’s wrong with how you keep your distance from him. You used to always wrap your arms around his waist when he would help you cook, or you would sit on the counter in front of him and steal whatever he was chopping off his place. But now you turn away to stir the pots, and carefully step around him when you need to get something. you don’t touch him.

- You even flinch away from him when he runs his hand across your stomach as you pass, your startled sad eyes meeting his before you have a chance to smooth your features into one of soft happiness. 

- You’re hiding something from them and he’s sure of it.  

- So he tries to include you more in the next few days, doesn't let you be alone at night after the others have gone to bed when you have a day off. And when your job ends, 3 days before you leave he tries to spend the whole day with you- but you make excuses, saying that you're too tired or that you have work to do. 

- When yoongi asks you why you have so much time off you just shrug and say, “They didn’t need me in the schedule.”

- The night before you’re set to go your mind is in a jumble with thoughts of packing your belongings into boxes, of the movers that will be here at 4, giving you only 6 hours to pack up your entire life before you leave this place for good- because Jimin, Hoseok, and Yoongi are leaving at 10, talking excitedly about it in the living room while you’re camped out on the balcony tapping away on your computer trying to figure out if you should leave a note, and if you do, what you should tell them. 

- You spend most of the night out on the balcony, it’s been edging so close to summer that it’s so warm outside, you almost think of sleeping out here. it would be easier than avoiding the pack bed. 

- But then the door opens and you turn back to look to your surprise finding Hoseok there, “everyone’s going to turn in now” he says quickly. it’s the first words that haven’t been a sneer, that he’s spoken to you in weeks. and you ache just looking at him. 

- “Are you-“ he looks down at his feet, “are you going to come in?” he asks, you suck on your bottom lip, “I’m going to wait until Namjoon gets back- but yeah, I’m gonna come in.” Hoseok swallows looks like he’s about to say something, then closes his mouth before saying “goodnight then.” And closing the balcony door. 

- Maybe it’s too little too late. 

- Namjoon comes in later, prying open the door to the balcony, to see you asleep on the lawn chair, 

- your computer open in front of you on the Google search for a city- who knows, he thinks, maybe you’re planning a trip there for something. he dosent pay it any mind, even though- in the future he’ll look back on this moment and kick himself for not realizing. 

- You used to do that- look up cities like Paris a Milan and talk animatedly to him about trips you dream of taking. But he pushes thoughts of that out of his head as he closes your laptop, places it inside, and he picks up your small form in his arms and carries you to bed, you protest weekly against his arms, making a noise as you gesture to the couch- where you’ve been sleeping the past few weeks.

- “Not tonight darling.” he says as he heads towards the bedroom, he leans down and pressing a tender kiss against your lips. He pulls away to find your eyes tear-filled and you lip quivering, but still- you screw your face into a smile. 

- it stops him dead in his tracks, 

- he pauses in front of the door, Hopeless- he realizes that you look absolutely desolate in his arms like you’re filled with nothing but a deep aching sadness that’s consumed you in his absence. your scent twined with fear- you’re not comfortable here. not anymore.  

- how did he not realize sooner, how did none of them. In his arms, you shake when he presses an affectionate kiss to your cheek. You feel like you’re an inch away from shattering. 

- “Don’t smile at me when you’re sad Jagiya, I know you better than that.”  So you let your tears flow down your face while Namjoon tucks you into bed, you wrap your arms gently around his chest.  And he holds you close, as you start to shake, then Yoongi starts running his fingers through your hair from behind you, as he makes a soft noise in the back of his throat. And you really start to tremble in Ernest. on the other side of the bed, Jimin and Hoseok curl up close. and remain blissfully asleep. 

- every touch they give you feels painful, the sensations burning along your skin. Guilt roils in the pit of your stomach as they comfort you until you’ve stopped shaking. Letting you drift slowly to sleep. 

- Namjoon and Yoongi share a glance over the top of your head, The glance says something simple- something that they wouldn’t fully understand until the next day, there is something very very wrong with you, and tomorrow, tomorrow when they both get home, they’re going to try to talk to you about it. not now when you seem so fragile, you deserve to rest. 

- You wake the next morning when Namjoon gets out of bed, his warmth no longer pressed up against your back. You listen to the sounds of him quietly getting ready. And when he’s done, he slides carefully back into bed, running a hand down your side, and then up to your face, where he runs a knuckle against your cheek softly. “you awake?” he asks quietly, his voice little more than a whisper. 

- You don’t respond, something feels like it’s blocking your throat. Your emotions or maybe your heart- but for some reason, you don’t respond- but Namjoon sighs behind you before continuing.

- “I know things haven’t been the best recently between all of us, but I promise you that after this case is over I’ll work like hell to make this better for you. Just hang in there for me please, I love you- we all love you, even if he’s shit at showing it- he’ll come around you know he will.” you stiffen as you hear his words, trying to stay still as a few tears leak out. you can’t think of hoseok right now without hurting, it feels like your heart is being ripped open and picked through. 

- you’d love to say you find his words comforting, but now- when you’ve already made your choice, they just hurt. 

- Namjoon runs his long fingers down the length of your spine and presses a kiss to your bare shoulder as he leaves for work. And you almost turn around. Almost decided to tell him that you’re leaving today.

- Because his words are lovely really, but they don’t change anything. 

- and you know what he’d do if you told him, you know Namjoon would hold you and keep you from leaving, not let you get on the airplane tonight. but you let him go- you tell yourself that you have to let him go. 

- So you listen to the sounds of him getting ready, the sound of Namjoon stubbing his toe on the baseboards one last time quietly sobbing in the bed. 

- You’ve already been awake for a few hours when the rest of them wake up, but you’re still just drinking coffee by the table reading a few emails about the start of work while they get ready to go to the showcase, your foot taps against the tiled table as you wait for them to leave, you’re not really paying attention to your email. You’re just watching them. 

- Watching as Jimin stretches to reach for a mug and Hoseok slips a hand underneath his shirt to rub at his soft stomach, Jimin flinches and giggles away, Yoongi comes and sits next to you, bending down to tie his shoes, 

- “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” he asks in a quiet voice, watching your expression carefully. “You shake your head, his words choking you out of your reverie as you look down back at your computer. 

- You give him another fake smile, “don’t worry about it, i’ll be fine- I have more than enough work to do today.” He reaches out, covering your hand softly with his, the affection is so unsuspected that you flinch away at first, but then his hand reaches for yours, grabbing it tighter. “When I get back tonight we should watch a movie” his skin burns against yours.  

- “That sounds lovely,” Jimin chimes in, smiling at you over the edge of his own cup “you should choose y/n its been a while since we’ve had a quiet night in and you’ve been off work,” he says before he’s dragged back into his conversation with Hoseok.  

- “You guys don’t need too- I know you’ll be pretty tired after walking around all day today.” Is all you say, eyes downcast. 

- They finish getting ready to leave- Yoongi runs a hand across your shoulders before he smiles down at you, Jimin gives you a small sideways hug before the three of them exit, “bye guys” you say quietly as the door closes behind them, Jimin is the only one who calls out a goodbye as well- his voice already cheery and happy. 

- The door closes with a final click and you can finally breathe easy, a few stray tears carving a line down your face as you realize- if everything goes to plan that will be the last time that you see them. 

- You pack up your things quickly and efficiently, taking apart your life here piece by piece, folding the memories away into box after box. Locking your heart up memory by memory as you say goodbye. You get your important documents, your makeup, your clothes and your shoes. 

- You carefully fold the 3 sweatshirts that you’d claimed as yours over the years, one from each of the alphas. You know you shouldn’t take them with you. the smell of them will only remind you of what you’ve lost.  

- But you linger over Jimin's shirt- the one you sleep in most often. And really you know you could never delete him from your life- he’s been apart of you for too long for you to do that. but this will be A clean break you decide. When the movers get there and start hauling your boxes away. You fold Jimin's extra-large shirt and leave it in pile on the bed.

- Meanwhile- halfway through the expo, Namjoon calls Yoongi and decides to meet them for lunch, after all, the convention center and city hall are very close together. 

- The three of them order before Namjoon starts, saying quietly. “we need to talk about y/n; Hoseok, none of us can keep going like this, and it’s been long enough, you need to forgive her” On pretense, Hoseok starts to protest but Jimin steps in, leaning over to cover Hoseok’s hands in his. 

- “You’re hurting all of us by doing this, and believe me- I know how hurt you where in the beginning but at this point what you’re doing is cruel Hoseok- and you shouldn’t be cruel to the people you love.” 

- “do you even love her anymore, do you even care?” Yoongi says- his voice low and angry, he’s angry at Hoseok and angry at himself. Yoongi who has always felt things too keenly to restrain his emotions. “because if you do you have a shit way of showing it, I thought you were supposed to forgive the people you love even if they hurt you,” 

- “I do love her! I swear!” Hoseok cries, a little too loudly, the patrons at the restaurant look at him, and Hoseok runs his fingers through his hair pulling at it lightly. 

- “at first I was so angry- so angry that she could treat me that way; like I didn’t matter, and I wanted to treat her the same way; but- but it’s like I don’t know how to talk to her anymore, it’s like I think one thing in my head but then I open it and another things come out, but it was wrong of me to try and hurt her like that so I'm done- I’m done with hurting her- I should have been a long time ago.”

-  Namjoon nods approvingly, sliding his hand up and down hoseok’s thigh under the table. Jimin smiles, a weight temporarily off his shoulders. “tonight” Hoseok resolves “I’ll apologize to her tonight”

- but he never gets the chance too. You get in the taxi, and get on the plane, your eyes fixed in front of you, trying not to look back. inline at TSA, you change every password to every account you might have told them. You only start crying when the plane pulls up and up, and you see the city you fell in love with fall away underneath you. 

- They get home at 9pm, a little early, Jimin decided to skip the last performance in favor of coming home to you, eager for things to be put right again, he’s already fixing his own apology in his head when he opens the door and finds all the lights off, “y/n” Hoseok calls as he pushes in past Jimin, a small nervous smile on his face as he goes off behind you. Yoongi runs to the bathroom. While Jimin files in slowly. 

- “y/n?” he calls again, but the air feels heavy, the apartment still and sterile as a hospital in the middle of the night. the entire kitchen is clean except for a mug- your mug, your pink and Polkadot mug that he saw you having coffee in this morning, when he picks it up- your keys jangle in it, which is odd- you're obviously not here- and you never go anywhere without your keys. 

- Jimin moves the cup away revealing the note beneath it, his eyes widen as he reads the first line, and he has to catch himself on the edge of the counter as his legs give out by the time he’s read the second. 

- He’s sobbing, openly and freely, fighting to stay upright as tears clog his vision and the world spins, “jiminie.” A careful voice comes from behind him, and large hands are on him that he recognizes as namjoons, but they’re not the hands he wants- not the hands he needs. “jimine whats wrong baby?” His voice slightly panicked, jimin falls against Namjoon, who holds him up effortlessly, 

- Namjoon reads the note over his shoulder as Jimin sobs, Jimin catches the second Namjoon realizes what the note means, his arms scrambling to clutch jimin harder against him, renewing his sobs as Namjoon breaths in jaggedly- launched straight into a panic attack. 

- Hoseok and Yoongi come running once they hear jimin’s sobs, wilding looking for what might have caused them to break down as they ask what’s wrong. Namjoon shakily picks up your note and reads it out loud to them his voice breaking more than once.

- First off I want to say that I’m sorry; I should have never agreed to be in a relationship with you when I knew that you’d be better off without me. the pack will work so much better now that I’m gone. you’re going to be so happy now, and that’s the only thing that’s keeping me strong while I write this letter and pack up my things. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to tell you this in person, but it’s for the best, I’m not worth your love, any of your love, so spend it wiser, spend it on each other and the people who deserve it.

You four will always have a space in my heart. Please forget about me and go on with your lives. I’m safe, and maybe one day I’ll be okay.  Please Don’t come looking for me.

- Y/n

Ps. Jiminy, I’m sorry we couldn’t make it even after all this. Especially when we tried to be together for so long. But You’ll be all right without me, you just have to try.

- Namjoon breaks several times while re-reading it, tears running down his face clouding his vision.  Jimin is sobbing hysterically through the entirety of it, clutching at his heart because it feels like somethings been cut out of him, his heart hurts more keenly than any pain he’s ever felt. 

- He’s breathing too heavy- he’s going to pass out. Yoongi looks shocked, his mouth open as his eyes cast to Hoseok. Hoseok, who looks like the words haven’t sunken in, his eyes wide, his lips parted in disbelief? 

- “No” he chokes out. “No I can't be too late, she has to come back, I need a chance to make this right” 

- Yoongi runs to the bathroom and vomits in the toilet, the sound of his wrenching joining Jimin's sobs as he crumples, Namjoon drops the letter back onto the table and sinks with him. Fisting his hands in the back of Jimin's shirt to keep his knees from cracking against the tile floor. Jimin is griping like his chest like his heart was ripped out- and it feels like it was.

- Hoseok reaches out- to put a hand on Jimin's shoulder and Jimin flinches,

- “NO!” he screeches, “you don’t get to touch me, not when you pushed her so far away she went right out the door” Namjoon’s arms go slack at the venom in Jimin's voice. And Hoseok looks equally shocked, especially when he continues spitting vitriol. Jimin could always be scary when he was angry, but now he’s just being cruel “if there’s anyone who’s not deserving of love it’s you”  

- The silence feels like it’s prying them apart until Yoongi says from the doorway “It’s everyone’s fault” His shoulders shaking as near-silent tears slip out of his eyes, he’s supporting himself on the wall. “We all let it happen, we all let her go.”

- The words seem to break them open more when they realize that it’s all true.

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

(please like and comment if you want more: but also note that I will not be completing this story, this is just like- me unloading my drafts).   

[ffwriterbts]

Lunar- BTS Werewolf AU Part 2

AN: As I’ve said before, if slowburn BTS werewolf AUs that have springlings of angst, smut, and fluff, this is the story for you! Other than that, please leave a like or comment so I know you’re enjoying the story!! I’m also looking for a beta reader or two for this story, if you’re interested in that! Just shoot me a message or leave a comment and I’ll get in touch!

Word Count: 2455

Warnings: None

Posted: 12 Dec 2020

Masterlist 

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Eventually YN fell asleep, but she couldn’t remember when. When she woke up, however, she was laying down, with the wolf’s massive head resting on her stomach. Absently, she strokes the soft fur around his ears, sighing and curling into the blanket. She can’t help but love the feeling of it between her fingers, smiling to herself as she thinks semi-clearly about the events of the night for the first time. 

YN is completely shocked by the events thinking about them now. This giant wolf not only understands her, but he talks back. He was comfortable in her home, the doors were big enough to take him in easily, and he was oddly sweet, in making her finish the chicken. And to top it all off, he was severely injured! Taking a quick glance at the bandages, YN has a passing wonder as to how much healing the wolf had done overnight. 

Quite suddenly, the wolf lets out a short growl, and YN jumps. The massive head lifts, looking her in the eye, her hand still tangled in the fur behind his ears. It seems like forever that the two stare at each other, eyes locked, but it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. 

He breaks the intense eye contact, turning his great head and yawning before standing. YN watches in awe as the wolf stretches, careful of his injury, before he turns back to look at her expectantly. 

‘Eat?’ 

The voice, low and clear and much less pained, startles the girl into motion. 

“Yes of course, let me make you some meat. How’s beef sound? I’ve still got a lot of that in the fridge.” YN stands, quickly clearing the blankets and pillow from the ground. Hearing no clear objections, YN heads into the kitchen, ready to prepare enough food to feed an army. 

She doesn’t pay too much attention to where the wolf is or what he is doing, but she can feel his eyes following her from one place to the other, and she can feel the draft from the door that he had nudged open. Quietly, she explains what she’s doing to the wolf, wanting him to be comfortable. 

She couldn’t have explained why she felt the need to tell the wolf everything she was doing, but for some reason she felt that it was important that this wolf trusted her. 

It is because of this that YN is in the middle of explaining why she prefers to use one seasoning brand over the other when the wolf lets out an ear-shatteringly loud howl. She flinches so hard she almost spills the cooking meat, hands flying to cover her sensitive ears as she whips around to find where the wolf is and what he’s doing. 

The great wolf, his beautiful black coat shining in the morning light, is standing just outside her back door, eyes gliding over the trees as he lets out another howl, his face turning up to the sky. He looks like he is waiting for a response, and YN can tell that he got one when his head snaps sharply to the left of the small path YN loved to take. 

Quite suddenly, the wolf turns around, padding back into the house and partially shutting the door behind him. He leaves enough room that he could stick his nose or paw into the crack and open it if he needed to, giving himself an out. YN lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding when the wolf returns to lazily lying in a patch of sun in the kitchen, his attention fully on YN and her movements while she makes the food. For whatever reason, she didn’t want the wolf to leave just yet. 

                                                           ~~~

The rest of the morning and the afternoon go well, with no hitches or startles. YN quickly falls into the habit of telling the wolf all the things she’s doing, not wanting him to be startled by anything she’s doing, and the wolf just watches her, not reacting much to what she does, and instead occasionally bumping his head into her hand for a light scratch behind the ears. 

When YN changed his bandage after they ate, she was shocked to see how much he had healed. While the wound was still clearly very tender, it looked like it had been healing for weeks or months instead of just a few hours. YN shook it off, deciding that it was just some strange ability this even stranger wolf had. It had been shown to her clearly before this point that he was special in more ways than one, so why not have accelerated healing? 

After the bandages were changed, and YN told the wolf just how well he was healing, the pair went back into the living area. YN took a seat on the lovely leather couch her uncle had left her, taking her usual seat and telling the wolf that he could come up if he wanted and was able. With a small noise that YN couldn’t place, the wolf clambered onto the sofa, laying his great head in her lap again. 

Without a second thought, YN turns on the TV and absently begins to stroke the fur around the wolf’s ears, relaxing at the repetitive motion and mindless noise. Together, they sit like that for a few hours, both of them resting and healing and mulling over the events that had happened to both of them. 

                                                             ~~~

There they stayed, for a long while, both half asleep and mulling over the events of the past 24 hours. YN was slowly coming to terms with everything that had been happening around her, with all of the weird things this strange, inky wolf could do. Absently, she wondered what else the wolf could do, and if the fanciful bedtime stories her uncle used to tell her were actually true. 

The wolf seemed to be resting peacefully, seemingly completely unaware of the turmoil swirling around in YN’s head. The wolf was just waiting, wondering when the rest of his pack would get there, and what the determination about YN would be. He knew that, despite his growing fondness for the strange human, if the rest of the pack didn’t share his liking for her, he would be forced to do things he would rather not do. 

When the door bursts open, YN might as well have jumped completely out of her skin. When before there was relative silence and peace, the room now had an unknown number of bodies snarling and pawing around. YN was understandably terrified, not having any idea as to what was going on or how that would affect her. 

The black wolf that she had been sharing her home with for the past day rose to his feet, eyeing up the other wolves that had entered the room. YN could feel the tension as the black wolf snarled, snapping as the other wolves did the same. All she could think about were the sharp, gleaming teeth and huge bodies around her in a way that was almost suffocating. 

Fear was rolling off the girl in waves, to the point that the wolves all were put on edge, looking for a threat deserving of that great amount of terror. 

It takes a couple minutes, but eventually all the bodies in the room calm down. YN gets off the couch and heads towards the kitchen, giving herself the illusion of an escape that puts her mind at ease. At this point, she is able to see that a  beautiful grey wolf and two light brown wolves have joined the black wolf she had opened her home to. 

Her living area is filled with the sounds of the wolves “talking” to each other, which YN decides not to break until there is a reason to. 

‘Who are you?’

Once again, the voice is directly in YN’s head, but this time it isn’t the black wolf. It seems to be coming from the grey wolf, but YN couldn’t be sure of that. 

“I’m YN, I moved in a few months ago. My uncle left me the house when he passed.” She answers simply, eyes flitting between the new wolves as “her” wolf comes to stand beside her. There seems to be some sort of silent communication going on between them that YN isn’t privy to, though she feels that it’s important for some reason she can’t place her finger on. 

‘Niece? Good.’ 

The same voice is in her head, and the fierce look in the eyes of the wolves fades into a softer, more general one. YN is confused by the statement, and the actions, remaining on edge, awkwardly shifting on her feet. 

“So, uh, do you guys want some of the beef I made earlier? I don’t know how far you guys have gone or have yet to go but food’s always a good idea, right?” YN can feel her ears burning with an unknown embarrassment, as she looks between all of the wolves before her. 

One of the light brown wolves yelps and heads towards YN, who puts her hands up on instinct, fear rising in her chest that she was going to be the one on the menu. Instead of attacking her through, the massive animal licks her palms, yelping some more as the word ‘eat’ is exclaimed into her mind. 

Letting out a little giggle and petting the massive head before her, YN is put more at ease, smiling as she turns and walks into the kitchen properly. 

“Well, I’m not quite sure how I’ll do this, because I only have one of these big bowls and there are four of you here, but I’ll figure it out.” YN muses to herself, again telling the wolves everything she’s doing so they don’t think she’s up to something, completely unaware of the fact that each and every one of the wolves in her home can read every one of her thoughts with complete and utter ease. 

“Oh! I have a baking sheet! I can just put it on there and you guys can share, yeah?” YN asks, dropping to her knees to rustle through a cabinet and find the baking sheet in question. Hearing no complaints, YN prepares the meat for the wolves, placing it carefully on the floor, holding onto one corner so it wouldn’t slide around on them. The two brown wolves quickly move to take tentative bites, the more playful of the two occasionally tossing his head over towards YN to receive a few scratches before returning to his eating. 

Once they finish, YN takes and dutifully cleans all the dishes she had made that day, ears straining to make sure she wouldn’t be attacked from behind, but yet trusting them enough to turn her back to them. She sings softly as she works, playful kid songs that she used to sing with her grandparents as she did her chores, inadvertently playing those loving memories for the wolves in her room as she does so. 

By the time she has finished with her chores, she turns to find the black wolf asleep directly behind her in a nice patch of sun, the grey wolf is carefully watching her actions from the corner of the room, and the two brown wolves laying further away, also having found nice patches of sun to lay in. YN smiles to herself, finding the sight of the wolves lounging in her space oddly sweet, before stepping over the black wolf, crouching down beside the great beast, giving him a few soft pets to partially rouse him, waiting for his eyes to open before letting him know that she would be checking his wounds and changing his bandages. 

She could feel the shift in tone as the great wolf let out a bit of a whine as the bandages come off, the others perking up a bit to watch what YN was doing, immediately ready to jump to his defense if she were to try to hurt the wounded wolf any more. 

Weary of the eyes on her, YN sets about making sure that she has everything she needs to clean the wound and change the bandages with as little pain to the wolf as possible. 

“Alright wolf, this is the part that stings, I’m so sorry.” She mutters under her breath as she does what has to be done, impressed by the amount of healing that’s been done already. 

“At this rate, you’ll be good to go by late tonight or early tomorrow morning.” YN sighs, taking the old bandages and throwing them out, before turning towards the wolves again. 

Checking the time, YN shakes her head and explains to the wolves that she is going to go to the study and write, as that’s what she usually does during this time, and that they are welcome to come with her if they want to. Turning on her heel, she heads towards the study on the second floor, fully expecting the wolves to either leave, or to just stay where they were. She really did have work to get done, regardless of the strange wolves that seemed way too comfortable in her space. Deadlines were deadlines, and she really didn’t want to have to crunch out a crap chapter for her editor, regardless of everything going on around her. 

What YN didn’t expect was for the black wolf to follow right behind her, limping slightly as he goes, but following nonetheless. Or for the two brown wolves to half-bark at each other, following behind their inky counterpart much more playfully, bumping into each other in a way that YN would have said must have been painful. Or for the grey wolf to follow behind them, much more somber than the duo in front of him, moving smoothly and surprisingly silently through the house.

“You do know there’s no sun to lay in, the study is the innermost room. Please don’t mess anything up, if you can help it, the study is my private place, really.” YN speaks much softer than she had been, causing the wolves to pay more attention to her words than before, feeling the importance of them. 

She opens the door, smiling to herself at the sight of the beautiful old books, the scattered journals, the overstuffed-and-ancient chairs, the slightly dusty paintings on the walls from artists YN couldn’t hope to know, the soft lighting, everything. It was comforting, but packed full of memories, some of which were still too painful and fresh to think of. 

YN heads over to the giant desk, opening her laptop and settling into the seat. She was aware of the four pairs of eyes that followed her movements, and she similarly followed theirs as they each found areas to curl up in. The grey wolf stayed by the door, facing it as if to make sure nobody tried to come in. The two brown wolves circled around the room a bit, before settling down by the overstuffed couch against one of the walls, both of them moving around periodically. Something in the back of YN’s mind told her that they were young, restless in a way that gave away their age.

It was the black wolf, however, that captured most of YN’s attention. He decided to place himself directly behind the huge desk chair, similarly positioned to the grey wolf, in the way that he seemed to be there for some sort of protection. She thought it was strange, the way these giant wolves were being so gentle, so protective. 

They settle in like that, with YN quickly getting immersed in the chapter she needed to finish, words flowing out of her in a way that made her feel almost buzzed. She loved that feeling- the feeling of creating, of making something out of nothing and breathing life into something so dead as a piece of paper or a computer screen. 

The whole scene was peaceful, in her opinion. She felt protected, she had ideas flowing out of her, and despite the fact the desk and it’s accompanying chair were both way too big for her and a little uncomfortable, she absolutely adored the study and all it had to offer. For whatever reason, it felt to her like home- the wolves in her space, the ideas, the old-artsy style of the room, all of it. 

[fangirl-ramblings]

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x gn!reader

Summary: A return trip from Annesburg is about to change your life forever

Word count: 1520

Notes: CW: vague descriptions of wounds | Unsure how to tag this right now, Amensia Plot | Unbetaed [Any feedback is appreciated]

Tags for: @husbandits.

I was so excited when I saw that I was assigned to be your Secret Santa this year (even if i do still have a request I need to fulfill for you 🙈) I loved each item on your wishlist, but this one really jumped out at me.

"okay, so there was a post going around like last year i think where arthur had gotten amnesia and the reader took him in, and honestly i haven't been able to get it out of my head these past few months for some reason"

I couldn't find the original post you referred to, but a rough idea started to form in my head...The only problem is, this idea is so much bigger than the stories I usually write and I was starting to run out of time to get it posted for in time for the @rdr-secret-santa event (as you well know, I'm a slow writer) so...please accept my humble offering of the first chapter while I try chip away at the remaining parts.

The Best Kept Memories

[working title]

Chapter 1: Late 1899 [Oct/Nov]

All this commotion was frustrating to say the least; you'd arrived in Annesburg late yesterday afternoon, ready to pick up the supplies you'd needed to stock your cabin up with before the weather turned back into the harsh winter the Grizzlies were famous for. Despite arriving in town a good 30 mins before the train carrying your supplies from Saint Dennis was due in at the station, an hour later you were still standing on the platform waiting for it to suddenly come rumbling down the tracks.

   "All the trains have been delayed you know" A local busybody informed you.

   "Yeah, I kinda gathered," you politely replied - not really wanting to be drawn into conversation...too bad the older lady didn’t get the message.

   "Talk is…" she leaned in close, as if she was sharing confidential intel that only you were to know about, "a bunch of degenerates living not too far from here, decided to rob one of the earlier trains coming up from city." 

You found yourself rolling your eyes internally upon hearing this; you were aware the Murfree Brood were a sadistic bunch of murdering bastards, but from what you previously heard about them, they could barely care for and ride their horses, let alone plan to board and rob a moving train.

"Terrible affair I heard, seems they managed to make it all the way up towards Bacchus Bridge before…" she stopped mid-conversation, not because she ran out of gossip to share with you but she had noticed that the tracks began to rumble and the sound of a train's whistle could be heard approaching the station.

   "Well, looks like the delay is finally over," you commented, pointing out the obvious.

  "Oh do excuse me will you." You sighed with relief as you watched the woman move a little down the way, heading towards the train's engine to see if the driver had any updates of the goings on in Saint Dennis to share with her.

By the time you'd finished loading your wagon up, you were exhausted and couldn't face the thought of driving home through Roanoke Ridge in the dark, especially if the Murfree Brood were still loitering about. Looking down the main street you saw the local hotel had some vacancies and made the impulsive decision to spend the night in one of the rooms there, ready to feel refreshed in time for your morning ride home.

While it seemed like a very good idea at the time, you soon realised you'd made a huge mistake. After waking up and having a quick wash before getting dressed, you made your way back outside to find the most peculiar sight. The mining town of Annesburg, usually full of workers with dirt covered faces, wandering about in their equally filthy overalls, was now overrun by well dressed men in suits. 

   "They say they're Pinkertons." You overheard the gossiping woman that you encountered the previous night, telling her newly captive audience. "One of them told me personally that there was a gunfight up near Beaver Hollow."

   "Well Eunice, I heard talk there was reports of those hooligans that they're after, fleeing into the night and the 'Pinkertons' had to chase them all over the Ridge well into the early hours of the morning," another lady informed her, looking super smug that she'd been able to provide some information that her friend wasn't already privy too.

   "Well either way, several roads around the area have been blocked off by the men in suits." Eunice huffed before walking off, looking for a less informed person to chat too.

Shaking your head, you dismissed their talk as nothing but idle gossip and jumped up on your wagon, ready to head back home along one of the roads leading South.

   "This road is closed," the well-suited man hissed as you approached the roadblock with your wagon. "I suggest you find another route."

   "It wasn’t closed yesterday when I rode into town, any chance you could let me go past just this once?" you protested, not really knowing why you were bothering. His stony face told you this was not a man who had much compassion for others, but wanting to get back home before the storm brewing on the East side of the Lannahechee river rolled in, you persisted, "I can be home within the hour if you let me past, whereas the other route will take me twice as long - not to mention those treacherous mountain roads I'd be forced to travel along."

   "I said, find...another...way" he growled at you, clenching his teeth as he emphasised each word.

   "Fine," you sighed as you reversed your wagon and drove along the road heading north.

Even though this route would take you the better part of the day to get home, you didn't mind so much as you could take the time to enjoy the beautiful scenery of this part of the country, especially the area around the huge mountain that rudely stood directly in front of you.

Taking a left hand turn to finally head southwards; you trundled along, lost in a world of your own as you admired the red wildflowers that grew in abundance here. Making a mental note to maybe pick some up on your next visit up here, so you could liven your cabin up, you were shocked when your horse suddenly reared up, whinnying a distressed shrill.

   "Hey now Ponos, what's to do with you?" you asked gently, hopping down off your wagon to assess the area around you. There was nothing obvious that you could see in the road, but out of the corner of your eye you noticed a flock of scavenger birds circling over something that must be hidden out of sight behind the giant rock to your right.

   "Trust you to be scared of a half-eaten animal" you chuckled as you patted Ponos' neck in an effort to calm him down. A beautiful Chestnut coloured Belgian Draft, you'd named him after the Greek God of hard labour & toil and while you couldn’t fault his excellent work ethic and seemingly unlimited stamina, you soon realised why the stable owner had offered you such a cheap price for him all those years ago; this giant of a horse was easily spooked by the smallest of things.

After reaching up to grab your gun from underneath your seat, you started walking over to the most likely spot to investigate. If it was a fresh kill you had enough space on your wagon to throw the carcass on and take it home to make a nice meal or two out of.

Approaching the overgrowth behind the rock, the birds squawked and scattered when they realised that you were about to steal the meal they had their eyes on. Getting closer, you noticed a heaped mound laying there. Your mouth started to water as you realised whatever this was, it was certainly likely to be bigger than a rabbit and therefore would provide several tasty meals over the next few days. Using the barrel of your rifle, you cautiously moved apart the long grass, almost dropping your gun as you finally saw what was previously hidden.

Looking like death personified this was certainly no animal, but a seriously injured man. His poor face, gaunt, bloody and bruised. Judging by the shallow, laboured breaths you could see him trying to take, he was still alive - but only just.

   "Sir? Sir? Can you hear me?" You asked, not really expecting a response but the almost corpse groaned and weakly nodded in response.

You glanced back at the grey clouds that had followed you on your journey from Annesburg, before looking back at this wretched soul. What was it your old pa used to tell you?

   'There's never any harm in being a good Samaritan to those that need your help.'

Realising that you could never let yourself walk away and leave a healthy man to be stranded in a storm, let alone an almost dead one to succumb from his wounds, you quickly set your gun aside and placed his arms around your neck. Summoning all the strength you had, you somehow managed to pick the sandy-haired man up and manoeuvre him onto the back of your wagon. 

   "I live a short ride away, you’re welcome to rest there until you get your strength back up.” Unravelling a few pelts you had stored with the rest of your cargo, you tossed them over the injured man to help try to keep him warm.

   "Sorry it's not very comfy but I guess it beats lying there in the cold waiting for the cruel embrace of death," you explained whilst taking out a carrot from your satchel to feed Ponos, in the hope he had gotten over his fear and was willing to continue your journey back home, “Tell me, do you have a name sir?”

Jumping back into the driver’s seat, you looked back over your shoulder, only to find your passenger had passed out.

[belovedbangtan]

Dive | Part 5 | jjk

<Part 4>

<Masterlist>

Pairings: Jungkook x y/n, Yoongi x oc

Word Count: 2.5k

Description:  Camping with your ex, sounds horrible right? The camping trip was   planned and payed for long before y/n’s shitty boyfriend broke up with   her. Her best friend Abby, Yoongi, Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook are there to make sure she has an amazing time. However, sharing a tent with  a smoke show like Jungkook is bound to lead to some complications.

Warnings:Language, just a leetle angst :( I hate it as much as you do.

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You wake up to the sound of the campsite around you being dismantled. The familiar smell of post-thunderstorm filling your nose. Breathing deeply you reach out for your phone that lays next to the air mattress. 11:45am. You’re eyes widen knowing that you slept in way longer than you should have. His arm was like a weight around your waist, you smiled wondering if his arm was secure around you the entire night. Lightly setting his arm to the side, you sit up and begin to stretch.

Within seconds his arms are wrapping around you again, attempting you pull you back to him. Your heart skips a beat when you see his disheveled hair covering his puffy eyes, his lips forming a kissable pout. You chuckle smiling down at him, “Its almost noon, Jungkook. We have to get going.”

He groans loud enough to vibrate the mattress. Throwing himself onto his back in the most melodramatic fashion, “Don’t wanna get up yet.” He whines.

“Well we have to take showers and pack up the tent,” You reach back running your fingers through is bed head. He quickly grabs onto your arm, pressing his lips to your knuckles before working them up to your shoulder.

He sits up kissing your neck, “You had me at shower.”

You scoff pulling your arm away from him, “Mhm, yeah were not showering together.”

A full grimace takes over his features, “Awe, you’re no fun.”

You laugh leaning into him, connecting your lips to his pouting ones, “Maybe when we get home.”

You slide away from him and off of the air mattress to sit next to your suitcase. You reach for all of your belongings deciding to shove everything in and take care of the mess when you get home. You turn, feeling his gaze on you. He’s smiling but something he’s not saying is hidden behind it. You scrunch your face up, wordlessly telling him that you can tell he’s up to something.

“I just really like hearing you say ‘home’,” He sits up in the bed bringing his feet to each side of you so your sitting in the middle of his legs. He leans in wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“You know what I meant, like our homes.” You start to blush trying to explain yourself. Even though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the thought of your home being wherever he was.

“I know what you mean, It’s just a nice thought, yeah?” He asks nuzzling my ear and the hair around it, “Just thinking about coming home from a really rough day to you. Or you coming home to me. Me making dinner for the both of us, you can make breakfast in the morning. Not to mention,” His voice is warm by your ear, “All of the places I can make you cum. In the shower, the kitchen table, the couch.”

You close your eyes picturing it yourself. It makes your heart flutter thinking about having him to call home. The thought of him interrupting your daily activities, just as he’s doing right now. Feeling his strong arms around you and his lips kissing places you didn’t even know existed. Of course you loved the thought of that, you’d be crazy not to. His kisses become needier and needier with every move, “Doesn’t that sound amazing?”

You hum in agreement, not sure of the way your voice will sound right now. You have to remind yourself to breathe. It was actually impressive how easily he could distract you. You inhale, bringing yourself back to reality. You’ve known this man 3 days, push the moving date to the back of your head.

“Kookie, we have to get ready to go.” You groan taking his hands in yours.

He laughs pulling back, kissing the crown of your head before he does, “If you say so.” He sings.

Once your bags are packed, you start to deflate the air mattress helping him pack it away. Then you start to break down the tent. Once everything is packed in the car, you and Jungkook head to the Washroom that the camping grounds provided. It definitely wasn’t like the hotel bathrooms you were accustomed to but, anything would work right now. You were desperate to be under the hot stream of water.

He holds your hand until you get to the dilapidated building, one side for the women and the other for the men. Once you walk in you thank the heavens Abby suggested bringing old flip flops to wear. The poorly laid concrete was muddy in all of the places beside the shower itself. It was loud too, you wondered why a bathroom this small would be so noisy. You looked towards the ceiling and you realized that the wall that connected the women’s to the men’s side wasn’t fully closed off.

You turn your shower head, the water was actually hot which surprised you. You’ve just finished washing your hair when you’re scrubbing your body. You stop your movement when you hear him nearly yelling.

His voice, arrogant and ear-splitting, you would know that voice anywhere. He had to speak that way, it was his way of appearing confident. You groan as you hear him laughing with his friends. Then you hear another familiar voice, but it doesn’t sound the way it usually does. He sounds angry, he sounds cocky too. You quickly rinse the soap from your body and turn the nozzle on the shower so that the water isn’t on anymore. You can hear a little better.

“Kookie, that’s what she calls you right? Her wittle kookie.” He erupts into a fit of laughter, and his minions follow suit.

“What’s the actual fucking problem here Ben? Are you jealous? Hmm?”

“We all know that you’re only entertaining her because you want to get back at me for stealing your chicks.”

“Is that right? Or maybe you’re upset because I was able to make her fall for me in a matter of days versus your months of trying.”

Ben scoffs loud, “Oh she has feelings? That’s cute, have fun with that while she refuses to put out.”

“Oh that’s interesting considering I had her pretty little mouth wrapped around my cock last night.”

“Whatever,” Ben’s voice gets quieter

Jungkook starts to say something but you force yourself to stop listening. It feels as if your stomach is in your throat. Breathe. You have to remind yourself to breathe. Who the fuck was that. There was no way that was the same man that took care of you while you were sick. He couldn’t be the guy that, less than and hour ago, was talking about living with you.

You gather your things and you sprint back to the campsite. Shoving past Abby and the boys who were waiting outside the SUV. Confusion lacing their features, Abby knows better and follows you into the SUV.

“What the fuck is going on?” She’s serious, as she leans over the middle seat to get a good look at you in the back.

You sigh, knowing that the only way to get her off your back was to tell her what was happening.

“I heard Ben and Jungkook in the shower. Ben said something about him and I, and Jungkook basically bragged about how easy it was to get me to fall for him, and how easy it was to get me to blow him.” You swallow hard.

Abby’s eyes widen and she instantly starts to gnaw on the inside of her cheek, she’s pissed.

“Are you sure it was him?” She looks out of the SUV and we both see Jungkook nearing the boys.

“I’m positive Abby, please, I don’t care what you have to say to him but I can’t talk to him right now. I just need some space.”

She nods and jumps to beat him to the boys. Once she gets close to him she presses him backwards.

“No, you fucked up Jungkook. She heard what you said in the bathroom during your little pissing contest with Ben.”

“No…” His face drops, all the color drains from it, “Abby I didn’t mean anything I said. I was just over his bullshit! Please! Let me talk to her!”

“She doesn’t want to talk to you right now, you need to respect that.”

He looks at you in the back of the SUV his eyes are glossy with tears, and that’s all it takes for you to start to sob. You turn away, and he does the same. You bury yourself in your hoodie, hoping to be left alone the entire ride home. The sobs are uncontrollable now, shaking your shoulders and leaving you breathless. How could he say that he didn’t mean it? Who tells someone that they’ve never felt feelings like this, then uses it against them. You wanted to believe that he didn’t mean it, and a part of you did believe it. The other part of you, the pissed off part, knew that there was no actual reason to say anything like that about someone you care for. If he actually felt the way he claimed he did, why would he say something so hurtful. Everything was so confusing and you were lost in your thoughts. You don’t if or when you would speak to him again, but you did know that you needed some time.

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Jungkook’s perspective:

It had been two weeks since the camping trip. Each day the message is different. One day I’m begging for forgiveness, the next I’m telling her that I understand why should would never want to speak to me. One thing they all have in common is that they never get sent. They sit in my drafts, because I feel like no matter what it is I’m saying ; she’s not ready to hear from me.

Everything feels off balance since that weekend. Like we were destined to meet and fall for each other. I had to go and fuck it up all over some stupid grade school feud. To this day I still can’t figure out why I felt the need to say what I said to Ben. I didn’t mean any of it, I knew better than to let him get to me.

I cant stop thinking about what she thinks of me now. How she thinks I was using her. When in reality every word I said to her I meant, with my whole heart. I meant it when I told her I had never had feelings for anyone the way I had them for her. I meant it when I talked about moving in with her. If were being honest, that was me holding back. Everything in my body was screaming love. I would look at her and I could feel myself heating up, just knowing she could be mine. Every fiber of my being knows that she’s the one soul out there that is perfect match for my own.

It sounds shallow to think about it, but I cant remember ever feeling this way for any of my ex’s. Good sex, sure. Fun to hang out with, I guess. Never once did I think about getting down on one knee and asking one of them to be mine forever. With her it’s all I thought about. It’s all I keep thinking about. The thought of her loving someone else is enough to make me sick to my stomach.

I sound crazy. I feel like the characters on sitcoms that annoy the shit out of me. There’s no way you can fall for someone that fast. Well, I’m here to tell you that it’s one hundred percent possible. I had to talk to her. If she needs more space after that, that’s fine. She deserves to know how I feel. There’s no way I’ll be able to get my mind off of it until I talk to her.

Message to Jimin:

Hey, throw a party. *send*

Jimin: uhh… for what?

I really don’t care, but y/n has to come. *send*

Jimin: Bro, she needs space.

Jimin, If I don’t talk to her I’m going to lose my mind. Please. *send*

Jimin: Fine. But if shit hits the fan, I’m throwing you under the bus.

It really cant get worse than it already is.

 I lean back on my couch, and instantly all of the most horrific outcomes crash into my brain. What if she tells him she refuses to see me ever again. I groan realizing that I might need to prepare for the potential heartbreak. The slight chance that it might go well is all I’m choosing to think about right now.

Jimin: She’ll be there. You owe me.

Fuck this was happening. I have approximately three days figure out the perfect apology. I had to make sure she knows everything.

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The message back to Jimin is short and sweet, you would never know the complexity behind the decision to go. The last thing you wanted right now was to talk to Jungkook, but you know that you have to. For you to move past all of this you need to face it head on.

The last two weeks have been busy, thankfully. Only leaving the late hours of the night for you to overthink everything. The only conclusion you’ve come to is that you weren’t ready for any kind of relationship. Despite being the president of Ben’s hate club, you were and you still are healing from that relationship ending. Of course, it was for the best that things ended. Regardless you still needed time to process the fact that you gave love to someone for over a year, and he didn’t reciprocate. It was time for you to process that.

You’re feelings for Jungkook are complex, hopefully seeing him will bring some form of clarity. You could lie and say that everything that happened between the two of you was the result of you wanting a rebound. Or that you subconsciously wanted revenge on Ben. That just wasn’t true, and everyone knows it. You developed feelings for him, and deep down a part of you still felt that he showed his true colors up until Ben interfered. You take a deep breath, praying that this party helps you move on.

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Taglist:

@cainami @carolsummerlove @zeharilisharaban @jikooksgirl19 @fallen-for-luke @madygswich @sugalarity @itboykook @ggukkieeee @peachy-bhun @megs58298 @kawaiiayasan​

A/n: Sorry for the late upload! Im like less than 20 hours away from getting my esthetics license, so I’m Busssyyyy. :( Let me know what you think, or what you see happening!

[thegalleonsnest]

Wiggle’s Muse - Short Excerpt turned into a FanFic

Yo, so, I wanted to share a small snippet of a future project I’m working on (while also delaying my current art projects). What I’ve written out here in this post was originally in a format not meant for professional writing purposes, but I said “eh, why the hell not,” and written it out in sort of a short fanfic format for you guys to read. This project btw, is not a fanfic (had to make that clear). What I am working on is a very large scale project for myself and is still in the blocking out/rough draft phases. This right here is probably my most fleshed out scene I’ve written out, and feels pretty complete as it’s own thing. Honestly, I’d appreciate the feedback if any of ya’ll found this interesting! 

Also I’m putting this in a tumblr post because I don’t have an AO3 or fanfiction account, and this is already too short for it anyway. Read the excerpt below

In front of the camera lenses, multiple grumpuses walk back and forth discussing a matter of topics but most importantly, where was Wiggle?

"Has anyone gotten ahold of Wiggle yet? She was supposed to be here hours ago,” a gruff voice coming from out of frame says. “We’ve tried calling her for over an hour, but we got nothing,” says another off camera, “do you think we should reschedule-” before they could finish, the studio doors bust open with a loud thud echoing the studio room. A tall, short armed grumpus with a boa stumbles along the room carrying an oddly shaped banjo.

“There she is,” said the gruff voiced grump, “Wiggle, whatever you got going on, you better do it now cause we got a meeting with investors in half an hour!” From the blurry view of a slightly out of frame Wiggle, she barely registered what the grump said. In a stumble, she walks to the center of the camera’s view & shakes her head, almost slurring her words, “Doooon’t worry, Darling, we’ll get you a new vest later.” “What, no, wait, that’s not what I-” before another word could be said, Wiggle readies her banjo and strikes a quick pose before strumming the strings like her life depended on it.

It didn’t take longer than a few seconds before the crew sprung into action, setting the proper lightning, mics and cameras around her. Her rhythm and measures became a lot more stable, catchy even, and then she broke into song. The next set of lyrics would become an instant, regrettable classic. 

It’s not long before the VHS tape stutters and stops, showing mostly static. A magenta furred Grumpus with some hair covering a part of eye, hits the eject button, takes out the tape and turns off the tv. “Girl, you were a right mess there!” She said with a giggle. “Tell me about it, Vrittany...” Wiggle said frustratingly, pinching the bridge of her nose. “And you’re telling me you can’t come up with anything better than that? Come on now!” “I wish I was lying, but I’m not. No matter what I come up with, nothing is topping whatever the heck my walking coma came up with instead!” Wiggle grabs her mug of coffee and takes a longing sip.

The two sit across from one another at the coffee bar. The aroma of that day’s set of cocoa beans waft through the cafe as most of the outside lamps fill out the darker spots inside. The place is nearly empty besides them, and a single muted green furred occupant sitting at a booth at the opposite end of the cafe, drawing away in his sketchpad.

“So, whatcha gonna do?” Vrittany asked sarcastically, “Stay awake for another week? Get inspired again? Hehe.” Wiggle sets her mug down, and answers, “I did try that again, but in style I fell asleep comfortably on a couch in the lobby”. Vrittany looked a bit stunned. “You’re kidding?! You’re crazy!” “Not crazy, Vrittany,” she takes another sip of her coffee before striking a pose in her high stool seat, bellowing out her voice. “Just creatiiiivly driveeeen~” “Whatever you say, darling,” Vrittany says before turning around to her bar’s sink. She cleans several mugs and glasses with gusto while preparing one last pot of coffee, enough for a single cup for later.

Vrittany takes off her apron and hangs it on the wayside of the counter as she walks around to take a seat next to Wiggle. After situating herself, she puts a paw on Wiggle’s shoulder. “Listen, pretty sure this is just a rut you’re stuck in right now,” she says. “Doesn’t every artist go through that every now and then?” Wiggle turns her head toward Vrittany, “Well..yeah, but this is different,” she desperately says. “I can’t let a song I made in my sleep be the best thing I’ve ever made! I know I can make something that’ll shake the world more than whatever ‘Do The Wiggle’ was.” 

Vrittany pulls back her paw from Wiggle to put on her best thinking cap. As deeply in thought as she was, her face immediately relaxes into a deadpan expression, “Have ya tried singing from the heart?” Wiggle cracks a smile, “HA, if only that’s how it works! It takes a musical genius to write a hit song in show biz, not just some field day with my feelings.” “Eh, worth a shot. Got any other plans?” “I’m still trying to figure that out. I need some kind of inspiration...almost like a-”

Before she could finish her thought, they both caught a glance at the muted green furred grump who walked up to them. He mustered up the words and said, “E-excuse me, you’re Miss Wiggle, right?” Wiggle turned in her seat to get a better look at the young Grumpus. She could tell he was nervous, clutching his sketchbook in his arms rather tightly. She quickly put on a more relaxed front to help calm things down, while also still showing off a bit of her excited side. “Why yes I am, Darling,” she said enthusiastically. “And I can tell you must be a fan of mine.” “Y-yeah...!” The green grump looked a little more relaxed, but still stiff in the shoulders. “Hey now, no need to be so nervous. I always got time for my fans.” “Thank you, Miss Wiggle. Um…” “No need to finish that thought, Darling, I know what you’re about to ask and I’m happy to oblige!”

Before the young man could stop to say something, Wiggle pulls out one of her many professional hand out photos that she has, and quickly signs with her autograph before handing it to him. “O-Oh, thank you, Miss, but that’s not what I was going to s-say.” he sheepishly says. “Really? Not an autograph,” Wiggle says surprisingly. “It’s usually the first thing fans ask of me.” “Sorry, I just...I wanted to show you this sketch I made…” 

The nervous grumpus slowly turns his sketchbook around to reveal a fully sketched art piece depicting a stylized Wiggle singing her heart out at the bar with Vrittany hanging out in the background cheering her on. He hands it to Wiggle to give them a closer look. It was still somewhat messy, showing a few guidelines and early roughed out shapes, but for what it was, it was still impressive to the two girls.

“Woah, that’s pretty rad!” Vrittany yelled out, leaning out from her seat trying to get a closer look. Wiggle was pretty stun, gasping at the sight of such a piece of artwork. “Darling, you drew this?! Just now,” Wiggle asked in awe. “Yeah! I was listening to some of your music and then you came in and sat down. It made me wanna draw you as fast as I could,” the green grumps says excitedly before rubbing the back of his head. “Sorry if it’s still a little messy looking though…” “Don’t be, because it is beeeaautifuuul~” “T-thank you so much, Miss Wiggle! T-that means a lot to m-me!” the grumpus says while his face lights up red from the praise. “You’re like an inspiration to me.” “Really now? Like a muse? All I do is sing the night away, Darling. You draw little masterpieces like this from me?”

As Wiggle continues to be enthralled by the young man and his work, Vrittany notices the coffee pot had finished brewing. She gets up from her seat and go back behind the counter to finish her last cup for the night. Wiggle and the green grump continue their conversation.

“W-well kind of,” says the grump, “it’s a bunch of music that inspires me when I draw. A lot of your stuff is so upbeat and fun, it gives me lots of different ideas to pump out!” Wiggle looks back, almost flabbergasted. “I’m...honestly a bit stunned that I had that kind of impact on you, Darling,” she says, almost with a melancholy tone, “...heh, kind of forget sometimes I do make some kind of impression on grumps like you.” She looks back down at the sketchbook, entranced by the creativity that sparked in the moment. That dazzling moment where it all clicked...where could she find that, when someone else can find it in her?

After an awkward minute of silence, the young grump spoke up and said, “If you like, you can keep the sketch page, Miss Wiggle?” Wiggle snapped her head back up from the sketchbook to the green fuzzball. “W-wait really? Are you sure you wanna give up this piece of art?” said Wiggle worryingly. “It’s no problem at all,” said the green grump proudly. “I already took a picture of it to save for later. I’m gonna make a painted version of it online later! Besides, it’ll make me happy if you kept it, since I was going to give it to you anyway.” “Oh Darling, you’re nothing more than a sweet one now, aren’t you? I’ll gladly keep it!” “Thank you so much, Miss Wiggle!”

Wiggle hands the sketchbook back to the green grumpus and he tears out the sketch. “No, Darling, thank you,” Wiggle says ecstatically. Vrittany returns from behind the bar with a to-go cup in hand, saying “Here’s your order, kid.”  “Oh, thank you, Vrittany. How much was it again,” the green grump asked. “Eh, don’t worry about it. Don’t feel like counting change. It’s on the house.” “O-oh you sure?” “You wanna change my mind?” “Don’t think I can, so thank you!” The green grump turns back to Wiggle and says “It was so nice meeting you in person, Miss Wiggle!”

“The pleasure is all mine, Dar-,” Wiggle catches herself before she realizes something. “Actually, what was your name?” “It’s Grite, Grite Tillsland!” Wiggle lets a genuine soft smile grow on her face. She felt a lot more at ease and happier knowing her new friend was much more relax and happy overall. She reached out her paw for a handshake, and Grite reciprocated.

“The pleasure’s mine, Grite, Darling.”

[sevenfactorial]

Info about applying to PhD programs in pure math

This is... basically what it sounds like. I’m sure a lot of this is applicable to other PhD applications but I’m only very familiar with pure math. This is aimed at current seniors about to apply, but there is a section about prepping for applications in advance.

The highlights:

Recommendation letters are the most important thing. Most schools ask for 3ish. Try to get people who know you well, not just a student in the class. Someone you've conducted research with and one from a different institution are ideal if possible

Ask for rec letters at least a month before the due date is a good rule of thumb.

Research experience is probably the second most important.

Get the opinion of multiple professors who know you in order to build a list of potential schools. Then widdle it down to your will-actually-apply list (probably 8-14 ish). 

My opinion but please apply to at least 3-4 safety/match schools. Even when you're fully qualified, acceptance rates are simply low enough that a bit of bad luck means getting rejected or waitlisted from a few of them.

Most pure math due dates are in early-mid Dec but a few schools are in Nov and some are as late as mid-Jan. 

Schools will generally have their own graduate application portals. Some are better organized than others. Some require you to submit all your material before you can send a request for submitting rec letters so plan accordingly.

Acceptance letters will very slowly start going out in mid-Feb but the vast majority of programs won't send out anything until like, March and not be done until later than that. Accordingly, wait until at least mid-March to begin freaking out if you haven't been accepted anywhere.

You should 100% be expecting a tuition waiver and stipend from a program if you're applying for a PhD.

The rest of the posts is.... ridiculously long so I’m putting it under a cut. I mention things to do in advance to help you decide if grad school is right for you and things that make your application look good, give a full time line of the process, a list of things applications commonly ask for, and some miscellaneous notes. (The points above are repeated in more detail).

In addition, some links to other resources math students may appreciate:

an old post of mine about grad school apps (overlaps a lot and features some ranting from during the application process)

about REUs including my addition specifically about math ones

summer programs for undergrads that aren’t REUs by @counter-example and @jungleuniversity

Tips for prospective grad student visits 

Also about prospective grad student visits by @thisurlhasbeenleftasanexercise

Also for context, I went to a large state school in the US for undergrad. I started as a CS major and added on math as a secondary major after my first year and dropped CS during third year. I’m primarily interested in discrete and algebra, though I have a significant topology background from undergrad too. I got most of my advice from people around the department, as I became pretty involved during my third year. Now, I’m a first year grad student at another large state school in the US, generally considered pretty decent though not a “top math program” at all. Not that much else has happened so far.

Things in advance (aka things to help you decide if grad school is for you and things that look good on an application)

Take the standard classes. For pure math, this is at least one semester of linear alg, abstract alg, and analysis each. Linear and analysis are also good for applied math but I'm not sure what else if anything is considered standard.

Take some grad classes if you have the option. Most people are not ready for this until senior year, but some do manage as juniors. Talk to people who know you well and the prof teaching the class before you do this though.

Try to get involved with research whether this is through independent studies at your home institution, REUs, internships, or other stuff.

Be involved in your department. This helps with getting you more personalized advice for applying.

The rough suggested timeline (assuming junior yr is your second to last year and senior is your last of undergrad)

Junior April: Take the math subject GRE so you can take it again in Sep or Oct if desired (perhaps not applicable atm). The general can be taken kinda whenever; I suggest fall of senior year.

Junior April/May: Start talking to professors/post docs/mentors/etc. about programs you may be interested in. Write/type it down. Don't worry if it gets long, you will shorten again later.

Summer: Do some research if possible; an REU or research at your institution (if an REU, also get your mentor's opinion on potential schools towards the end as well)

Senior Sep: Start whittling down your list. 8-14 seems to be the "normal" range of schools to apply to but some people panic and do more. Remember that asking for waivers is completely acceptable but applying is still just generally expensive (I spent around $800 for 10 schools)

Senior Sep: Apply for the NSF GRFP. You can apply as an undergrad senior and once during your first or second year of grad school if you didn't already get it. The due date is in mid-late OC but ideally you'll have a draft of your essays and ask for rec letters by the end of Sep, if not earlier.

Senior early Nov: Ask for rec letters if you haven't already. The rule of thumb is a month before the due date. Provide them a list of schools you want to apply to including due date and where/how to submit as soon as possible (as well as anything else they request of course; many ask for a resume and a draft of your personal statement).

Senior Dec-Jan: Submit stuff! Pure math programs typically have deadlines in Dec or early Jan. I think the big days are Dec 10th, Dec 15th, and Jan 15th but some are earlier or later. (applied math masters tend to be earlier I think; in Nov). I suggest putting them all into a list or calendar. In addition, some schools won't let letter writers submit until all of your stuff is submitted so start applications early, even if you don't finish them immediately.

Senior Feb: Programs will slowly start sending out offers in early Feb and pick up in mid Feb, but don't fret until AT LEAST the beginning of March! Grad programs are just way too slow at getting out offers for it to be worth worrying until then (and even then, it's definitely not time to panic but mathematicians are frequently anxious people so I get it). Waitlists are slower to come out; usually starting in early March. Also note, there are many programs that don't actually send out replies to everyone unfortunately.

Senior late Feb-early April: prospective student days! They might be online in 2021 unfortunately but try to attend whatever form they're in if you can (only one of my visits during spring 2020 was online since the others happen to be very early and safely beat covid in the US). Be warned, it's very possible to get offers of admissions and to visit very last minute. I do not have advice for how to make that less stressful.

Senior April 15th: Common reply deadline. If you got your offer in the first round or two, this is probably your deadline to accept. In addition, this means more offers will likely come out shortly after once more people have declined. 

Senior summer: graduate. Send a completed, official transcript to your new institution. Check your new email account for stuff you're suppose to do. Some programs have some sort of program during the summer for in-coming students. Most places have graduate student training of some sort for a week or two before semester starts. 

Some common things to be asked for in applications

Not actually a thing asked for but many graduate schools have their own portal for which you will have to make an account to submit an application. A few use a common system that kinda sort shares a database of accounts? Some are fine and some massively suck.

Personal Statement/Statement of Purpose: Occasionally called something else and once in a while actually separate things; will usually have a prompt of wildly differing specificity. Sometimes, the prompts come from the department itself and sometimes from the university's graduate school. I suggest having one or two "base" essays then tweaking them for each school. Sometimes a word/page limit is specified but if it's not, around 2 pages/1000 words is pretty reasonable.

Transcript. Some accept unofficial but some require official but generally not an unsealed one. I ordered myself one official transcript and sent it to multiple schools instead of paying for them to be sent to each school during the application process.

Resume or CV: Most ask for either a CV or is fine with either, in which case I give them my CV. I sent more or less the same one everywhere.

Some other notes

Yes, ask for application waivers. Just be polite about it.

Your goals for your essays are primarily to show that you're interested in math and math research and are capable of like…. writing things that make sense

Do not start out an essay with either "I loved math since I was little" or "I actually didn't like math when I was young" or any variations of those. (I had one essay that started with a mildly humourous anecdote from undergrad combinatorics and another that talked about how my undergrad department has greatly affected me).

You should 100% expect to get a tuition waiver and living stipend as part of a TA fellowship (or more rarely, an research fellowship) as part of your offer of acceptance for a math PhD program (pure or applied). Health insurance is also frequently part of the package. This is not true of masters programs unfortunately.

How schools do waitlists depend wildly though most don't have super long ones like prestigious undergrads do. If you're still interested in a place you're waitlisted at, follow their instructions to confirm your placement on the waitlist then wait until April before following up again, expressing your continued interest and asking for an update. You might even want to wait until around the common deadline, April 15th. The number of people who declined before April is just really really low so nothing really happens until then.

[a-happy-little-cactus]

Midnight Cuddles

Summary: You can’t sleep, so you go to your friend Bakugou for help, though it’s a bit more than what you were expecting.

Word Count: 1,571

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

A/N: Hey ya’ll! I haven’t posted in a really, really, really long time, but here ya go! Let me know what you think! (Also, I’ve been meaning to write this for a very long time, but never got around to it. Super happy I finally did!)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As much as you loved it here at UA, it had officially screwed you up.

Within a few days, you have somehow managed to go from great eating habits and sleep schedule to living off Bang, Monster energy drinks, and black coffee while getting somewhere around 2 and a half hours of sleep.

With midterms starting in a few days, for both normal and hero classes, your sense of self-preservation seemed to have taken a nice long vacation. Between studying and training, self-care was pretty much one of the last things you were worried about at this point.

As of now, you were looking aimlessly between your computer and your notes, debating how many questions you could miss on this test without absolutely failing. Hearing a sudden knock at your door jolted you back to reality, though it took you a minute to register what was going on.

“(Y/N)! I know you’re still awake in there! Let me in for a minute!” 

Usually it wasn’t weird for your best friend Mina to want to have random midnight talks, so this wasn’t too out of the ordinary. Pushing yourself out of your chair and taking a swig of your coffee, you walked to the door, careful not to run into anything on your way over, since you had forgotten to turn on the light even after the sun went down.

“Hey Mina,” you said tiredly.

“Hey girl, I-” Mina paused, glancing behind you at your room, which was currently being illuminated solely by your computer screen, as well as the mess that was currently occupying your desk.

“Uh, is everything okay?” she asked.

“Hm? Oh, yeah it’s all-” you stop, having to yawn, before plopping yourself down on the bed- “It’s all good. Just a bit of studying.” 

“Okay, girl, what cup number is that?” Mina asked, gesturing to the coffee cup sitting amongst the many other empty cans.

“Honestly, I’ve stopped counting,” you replied, laughing tiredly.

Mina rolled her eyes, walking over and grabbing the cup of coffee, despite your objections, “Look, you’re going to sleep. This can wait until tomorrow. Besides, Aizawa’s not gonna be too happy if you pass out in the middle of his class.”

“Ughh fine, I’ll go to bed,” you said, accepting that that was probably the most you were going to be able to cram for tonight.

“Good. Well, good night (y/n)!” Mina half shouted from down the hall, in somewhat of an attempt to not wake up everyone else.

“Night!” you yelled back, forcing yourself up from off the bed to get ready to go to sleep.

~time skip~

Despite being unbelievably tired, it had been about 30 minutes since you had finished getting ready for tomorrow morning and laid down, yet you had been completely unable to fall asleep.

‘Stupid caffeinated drinks’ 

You cursed yourself internally for drinking so much coffee. Frustrated, you thought about your options:

You could sneak out downstairs to the common area, but if Aizawa-Sensei happened to be down there, you’d definitely be in trouble.

You could try to cram some more, but you had a feeling if you looked at your Chem. notes one more time you would actually die.

Lastly, you contemplated doing something completely and utterly stupid and irrational: Asking to crash in one of your classmates’ rooms. 

You didn’t know why, but for whatever reason, you found it a lot easier to fall asleep with others near by. Usually this wouldn’t be a problem, since none of the girls really ever minded having an unplanned sleepover. However, considering the fact that it was just over one in the morning, and class started in five hours, you guessed they were all probably asleep. 

You thought about asking one of your guy friends, but Kiri slept like, well, a rock, and wouldn’t wake up without a blaring alarm. You would ask Kaminari, but he was probably still gaming, and it’s not too easy to fall asleep with him yelling at his console in the background. Sero would be a good choice, but he was at a family gathering, and wouldn’t be back until next week. Considering you didn’t really feel comfortable asking the other guys in your class, that left you with one other choice: Bakugou.

While yes, usually Katsuki did go to bed earlier than everyone else, like you, midterms had screwed that up. Even though he was still doing well in class, you had actually bumped into him during a 2am snack run a few days ago, so you guessed it wasn’t too far off to say there’s a chance he might still be awake. Even if he did end up telling you to screw off, it was at least worth trying.

Walking through the boy’s dorm hall, you noticed that you were indeed correct, as even while passing his dorm you could hear Kaminari shouting. What intrigued you though, was seeing the light peeking out from the doorframe of Katsuki’s room.

Knocking, you called for him, “Katsuki, I know you’re at least awake, can you open up?”

After about a minute of silence, the door to his room swung open, and you had a rather irritated looking Bakugou staring you down, the draft flowing from his room making you shiver.

He was wearing a black hoodie with sweats, and had a pair of glasses on, which made you notice the pile of notes, costume redesigns, and other sheets of paper scattered across his desk.

“What do you want dumbass, it’s late, and I’m busy,” he said.

“Uh- Oh right! Um, so, I was uh-” you stuttered out, trying to figure out how to word your sentence, which was proving difficult with the combination of his glare and your tiredness.

“Get to the point extra-” he warned.

“Look, can I sleep in your room tonight?” you asked.

His eyes widened, before regaining his irritated composure.

“How come? You got a room, don’t you?”

“Well, I can’t sleep,” you admitted, though that part was obvious.

“And what makes you think sleeping in my room is gonna change that?” he asked.

You looked away, before answering in a quieter voice, “It’s just, well, it’s just easier for me to sleep when other people are around.”

“Can’t you ask one of your other friends?”

“No, they’re all sleeping, and I don’t want to wake them up,” you replied.

After a moment, he sighed, before opening the door all the way and stepping aside to let you in.

“Fine. But you owe me,” he said.

To that, you lit up, nearly knocking him over with a hug, “Oh my gosh thank you so much! And yeah, that’s fair.”

Katsuki froze, before pushing away from you, averting your gaze.

“Whatever, just don’t bother me,” he said.

“Okay, that’s fine. Do you have any extra pillow’s I can borrow? I’d sleep directly on the ground, but it is hardwood, so I don’t think my skull would particularly like that,” you asked, taking in the rest of his room, which was really just a bed, dresser, and some more miscellaneous papers scattered across the room.

“Why the hell would I have extras, I’m not Mina. And don’t sleep on the floor dumbass, you’re going to wake up with bad back and neck pain, and you’re not going to be able to be at your best for when I beat your ass tomorrow,” he said.

Realizing what he had said, you felt the heat rise to your cheeks.

‘Just use his bed? But then, is he meaning he wants us to share?’

 The more you thought about it, the more you blushed, so you put the thought away, and made your way into the bed. Thankfully, he only had his desk light on, so you faced the wall to deciding you should be able to sleep just fine like this. 

“Oi, scoot over. You’re hogging the bed,” you hear after a few minutes.

‘Wait, what?’

You turned around to face him, confused, but he only gestured for you to move.

Blushing slightly, and glad he had turned the light off, you comply, giving him room to slip into the bed.

“Um, I uh, I thought you were working?” you ask, glad that the two of you were currently facing opposite directions, though it didn’t really help with your nerves.

“I was working. But it’s two in the morning, and I guess your dumbass reminded me to go to bed,” he said, chuckling lightly at the end. 

“Oh.”

After a few minutes of silence between the two of you, you felt the draft of his room again, even with the covers. You had known he kept his room cold, but this was just stupidly cold.

“Hey Katsuki?” you called weakly, in case he had already fallen asleep.

“Hm,”

“It’s really cold, do you have any extra blankets, or could you like, change the AC settings?” you ask.

After a moment, you felt him shifting behind you, before feeling him put his arm around you, his body pressed against yours, and sending warmth back towards you.

You couldn’t do anything other than sit there, a blushing mess, and yet again unbelievably grateful that he couldn’t see your face. 

“Better?” he asked.

“I-um, uh, yeah,” you stutter out, covering your face with one of your hands, making him laugh.

“Good,” he said, sounding a bit proud of himself for his job well done.

That night, despite everything, you two slept better than you had in a very long time.

[sweetestrequiems]

I: Meetings and Photos

Word Count: 3,025 

A/N: Hello you lovely people of the Queendom on Tumblr. I’m Kit, and... well, you’ve seen me around enough. I wrote Silence is Never Better, The Tower of London, and maybe a few other things you might have seen around. Anyways... Welcome to the first chapter of Out of a Book! I’m very excited to share this with you all. I truly hope with heart and soul that you all  enjoy this. If you ever want to leave any feedback, feel free to message me, or contact me at one of these profiles:

Instagram: @/Reinapuff Twitter: @/Reinapuff 

If you’d like to be added to the tag list, let me know! I’m always happy to share my work with others!

Tag List: @boombiotch | @silverpetals97 | @watercolored-lemonade | @aveasorae | @parrlyndreams | @dont-lose-your-queerhead | @mindless-pidgeon

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A rather early Thursday morning in the city of Syracuse, New York. The time’s about 7:15 in the morning.

The sun was over the horizon, but there was little to no noise inside of the apartment. The birds sang their graces and none of this seemed to be the thing to wake up the sleeping woman. In fact, a little snore escaped from her while she slept. Had her roommate not needed to go to work, she would've turned that against the woman in a heartbeat. But of course, this was not out of malice; the two would see the situation being out of fun. Getting up this early in the morning, however, never came easy for the woman that was still in bed. There were two things able to get her to wake up: the sun hitting her eyes, or an alarm of sorts, whether from a phone or a clock.

On this Thursday morning? It was both of those things that would wake her up.

An aggravated Catherine Parr turned to face away from the sunlight, and to reach for her phone. Forcing herself to sit up to turn the alarm off, Parr set the phone down before stretching her arms up and yawning. She noticed the quiet of the apartment about a few minutes from initially waking up. This meant that she was half asleep for a good little bit. “Ah, Lina went to work. Right, I almost forget she’s a teacher sometimes,” she finishes her sentence with a hum. Catalina Aragón, someone she affectionately called Lina, or even just Aragon. She found it fun to have a Spanish roommate, if she was being honest with herself. Made for a more entertaining time some days.

Parr’s never-resting mind began to try to think as to why she had set an alarm so early in the morning. Was it due to the fact she kept waking up too late? Was it a meeting with her publicist? The woman, for the life of her, could not remember. A hand came up to her forehead, rubbing it a few times before pinching the bridge of her nose. “This is bollocks. I can’t remember why I set my alarms so early,” a groan of frustration comes out under her breath. If she hadn’t turned her alarm off so quickly, she might’ve read the reminder that she had put for it. That didn’t matter much. It would come back to smack her in the face later.

Letting her legs swing over the edge of the bed, Parr pushed herself up and on her feet she landed.

––––––––––

7:45 am.

For Catherine to admit she was ready for the day, she needed one thing, and that one thing was in her hands as she walked back to the small table. Sitting down, the ceramic mug came up to her lips. Coffee. That was the one thing she needed. Her shoulders came up for a moment before they eased up, a smile helping her expression soften up from grumpy-seeming to amused. Opening up her laptop, Catherine softly hummed. A buzz makes her gaze shift from the laptop screen to her phone’s screen, seeing the notification on it. Tapping on it, she allows her phone to open up the email.

  From: Cleves, Anna To: Parr, Catherine Subject: Planning for next release

Parr,

Writing a short email to remind you about our 8:00 am meeting for the first steps of getting the announcement of your upcoming book release. If you have any ideas post-conference, be sure to write them down and send me an email with them. We can further discuss those at a later date.

Anna Cleves Media Agent/Public Relations

Bringing her free hand up to her mouth, Catherine Parr forced herself to swallow the mouthful of coffee and then hissed under her breath. “That’s today?! It’s 7:55, I have barely any time to get ready!” Gold star for Cathy Parr. Standing up, the author gave a sigh and quickly disappeared off to the space that was her room in the apartment to at least make herself presentable from the torso up. It did not matter that she was wearing black joggers, so long as she looked like she was ready for a business meeting.

Adjusting her curls so they wouldn’t fall over her face, Catherine paced over to the chair, and sat back down. Now that she had her headset on, and got ready in the nick of time, she patiently waited for the call. There it was. Taking a brief moment to look at herself and adjust her blouse, she answers. “Good morning, Anna.”

“Good morning to you too, Cathy. Glad to see you’re awake at an early time. And you got all dressed up, too! You didn’t have to,” a chuckle. Cleves ran a hand through her hair and gave a smile. “So, we’re looking at what kind of a timeline for the release, exactly?” A slight roll of the eyes, and a shake of the head. “Would’ve been nice to know before I spent the last five minutes panicking over being dressed decently. Anyways, to the main topic. My editor is getting ready to give me the list of revisions made to the draft and then I’m going to once again, go in and edit whatever needs to be changed per her advice. We’re... aiming for maybe... three to six months from now.”

A nod from Anna. Catherine could see the woman looking at a second screen and typing something. Probably notes about all of this. This conversation carried on past 8:30, until it was Anna herself who decided to conclude it. “Sounds wonderful. I’ll be in touch, as per usual. But now that this is over, we can talk about something else, if you’d like.” Although they saw each other maybe once or twice a month in person, Anna and Catherine were quite the close friends–– about as close as Catherine and Catalina, since the two have been roommates since their university days. “Look, I woke up this morning thinking I had nothing to do, and I was just going to text Lina for the grocery list but then your email popped up,” a laugh. The German woman simply shook her head.

“So you got dressed up in a panic, Cathy? I’m shocked.” There was another bout of laughter that interrupted them. Parr found herself nodding. “Of course I did. I’m not going to just answer a conference call from you in a crop top and joggers, and with a messy bun.” The thought of Parr actually having a messy bun made Cleves laugh. “You and messy buns? You’ve got to be kidding me. But good job admitting you’re still halfway in your pajamas.”

Now she rolled her eyes. She rolled them so hard, they could've rolled right off her face.

Catherine shook her head, not being able to help the smile. “Hush. As if you weren't in your own. You’re at home, I know you are!” Her hands went to grab the cup of coffee, and she brought it back up to her lips. She was a bit proud of herself for not having touched it the whole time during the meeting, but now she was craving it. So, she began to drink it, allowing Anna to talk. “Where’s Lina? I’m surprised the woman isn’t around there. Wait, no... never mind, don’t answer that. She’s at work, isn’t she?” A nod. “Yeah, she’s a teacher, Anna. She leaves early. Comes back by dinner time normally.”

It was a safe assumption to say the two were having a fairly good time speaking to each other.

––––––––––

11:11 am.

“Perfect. That’s the shot,” a southern English voice rang out in the studio apartment. That was the voice of the beauty that took the world by storm: Anne Boleyn. “Tu as un bon oeil avec une caméra, Maggie! Ça a l'air super, vraiment. Go on and head on home, you’re good to go. Have fun with the pictures,” the ruby-lipped woman gave a kiss on both cheeks to her photographer friend, who packed up soon after and headed on out. Sitting down on the loveseat, Boleyn ended up getting herself to lay down and hold her phone right above her face.

“Lame.” She scrolls past one post.

“Seen it.” Another.

“What’s this?” A new post from her favorite author. She’d never admit it, but deep down inside, she was a huge nerd. Anne skimmed over the post, her thumb double tapping the screen. Parr’s posts were always inspirational quotes, or some snippets from her works. This one was just an appreciation post. A smile began to form, with it eventually becoming a light laugh. “She’s so kind! It’s amazing how someone so famous has a golden heart. And I’m sure she knows she’s got the fame.”

Most of the remainder of the morning for Anne was spent laying down, on Instagram, with no care in the world. Truly, the woman was one of a rather mellow personality. And in her spare time, she loved a good book. Deciding she’d had enough of Instagram for the time being, she closed out of the app and opened up another one. Probably delivery or something, considering it was approaching the afternoon and she felt her stomach rumble just a little. “Good thing I decided to get food. Has it really been almost five hours since I ate?”

An early riser, she was. On most days, Boleyn woke herself up at around three in the morning to go work out from maybe 3:30 to 4:45 in the morning. Sometimes she’d extend that work out to 5:45 in the morning. Then it was off to come back home, shower and get comfortable to be in the kitchen and cooking food for herself by around the 6:45 mark. She was always eating by seven in the morning, if not ten minutes later. But she was feeling particularly lazy today, so she’d take advantage of the day to just lounge around.

Standing up, Anne left her phone face down on the loveseat. She didn’t need it to get comfortable. And to be fair, it took her maybe about ten minutes, because the majority of it was her washing her face and making sure to take good care of that. She did however, come out of her bedroom with her glasses on. Now that she was alone for the day, she could just be Anne. No contacts, no sunglasses. Just plain Anne Boleyn. She was a huge nerd growing up, and she knew this to be quite true. She loved herself, and she truly did love her modeling career, but she found it odd to be both a nerd and a super famous model at the same time.

So, she’d keep her personal life to herself. Just like that.

––––––––––

1:00 pm.

Having finished her lunch around fifteen minutes ago, and having cleaned everything up, Anne found herself at a crossroads during the day. She could take her glasses off, grab a blanket, and take a nice nap. She could go out to the local shops and peruse their inventories. She could get into the kitchen, and do some meal prepping. She had options, but she just couldn’t quite put her finger on what she wanted to do. Shrugging it off, the woman reached for the bookshelf. One of Parr’s books was in her hands.

Anne couldn’t quite tell what drew her into Catherine’s writings. Her books were not quite memoirs, but not quite fully opinionated pieces either. However, they did fall into the non-fiction category. Think of it as a discourse, kind of–– but one full of opinion, experience, and even proven fact. She was a strong woman, and had morals. Anne Boleyn was drawn to that from the first day she picked up a book by Catherine Parr. Laying back down on the loveseat, she opened up the book with a smile.

“A well deserved following,” she’d softly mutter. Her smile became less and less of one until her face was deadpan; a sign she was focused on reading. Word by word and page by page. Killer looks in front of the camera and the world, but a calm and soft appearance in private. This was something Anne showed maybe once or twice, since she has occasionally posted on her Instagram stories a picture or a video with her in her glasses.

One page became another as the time passed. Page to page, eventually book to book. Anne was in one of her reading holes, humming to herself to add a little more entertainment to her already uplifted mood. What broke her out of the daze was her phone ringing. A phone call. Pulling the phone out from underneath her, Anne answered after reading the caller ID. Maggie. Probably an update about the pictures or something.

“Anne! Bonne nouvelle, mon ami! I’ll have these edited by tonight or tomorrow at best. You’ll be right back on a runway soon enough with these,” Maggie sounded excited. A smile came across Anne’s lips. “Besides, you now have an updated picture for events instead of having to use the one from three years ago! Isn’t that great?” Sitting up, Boleyn set the book down and nodded to herself. “Oui. Merci à vous, comme d'habitude, Maggie. You work miracles,” she chuckles. “We’ll talk later. I might just take a nap or binge some Netflix.”

The conversation carried on for maybe five more minutes before Maggie hung up. Quite literally Anne’s best friend from childhood. Put the two together nowadays, and if Maggie had her camera or Anne’s phone in her hand, it was a photoshoot wherever they went. Safe to say that Maggie was responsible for the solid 90% of Anne’s feed that wasn’t selfies and food posts. Count your blessings, they always say. And despite the overwhelming following, Boleyn truly was grateful for what she had. Every single bit of fame that came her way? She was thankful she managed to get that far.

––––––––––

6:30 pm.

“Cathy? Estoy aquí y traje comida!”

Catalina had shut the door to the apartment as she finished that statement. Catherine peeked from behind the wall, before stepping out into view and smiling. “How was work, Lina?” Setting the food down on the table, one could see Catalina’s eyes roll to the back of her head for a moment. Looks like she had a troublesome day, considering she wasn't too cheery coming in the door. “Don’t get me started on it, Cathy. They were so unruly today for no reason. Part of me wonders if it’s the fact that they’re teenagers or not, but... it was unreal. The few that sit by my desk in the back of the classroom? They kept their cool, and I was glad about that.”

Catalina and Catherine both opened up their respective take out containers.

“Pero, gran y poderoso Señor... it was a nightmare today.”

A snicker came from Parr. “That’s why I don’t teach English. Could you imagine it? I’d be being told I’m spelling stuff like colour and favourite, or honour wrong! I’m English, we spell it differently than the Americans!” That snicker became a laugh. Catalina couldn’t help but laugh herself. “But truly, I’m so sorry you had to deal with a rowdy bunch today. Maybe they will be more mellow tomorrow. One day is just one day, and you have had one bad day... what... once every few months normally?”

“Yeah, it does happen every few months. So, I guess I won’t worry too much.” Catalina just shrugged it off, stuffing a spoonful of rice into her mouth.

––––––––––

A bite of chicken found itself on Anne’s fork. She was staring at her food, debating whether she should, or should not, post the dinner she so graciously decided to make. One could see the questioning glimmer in her eyes. The voice across the room made her attention snap from the plate to the source of the voice. “Je sais que c'est joli, mais allez, Anne. You haven’t touched your own food!” A bit of a laugh from Maggie. “I know, I know. Look, I just... wonder sometimes, if there’s anything else I can add to it. I always do that after I finish something.”

“I can tell. Just like when we were kids. You ALWAYS wanted to experiment more with your food. It’s almost like you live to be chaos.”

“Well, I mean... have you seen how I look? I’m chaos disguised as a babe. I like to think I’m pretty fit, after all,” there was the laugh from Boleyn. Shrugging it off, she just started to eat. Maggie was the one to continue the conversation. “Speaking of things you like, Anne... has that favorite author of yours posted anything? You always had a bit of a love for books. I saw that appreciation post earlier, and thought that was sweet. Even with the fame she has to her name, she remains humble. D’you know what, Anne? It reminds me of you a little.”

“How so?”

“Because you are the exact same way! Even with this huge following, you... you take the time to reach out and say thank you! You’re quite humble, despite what your looks say about you. I guess that whole don’t judge a book by its cover thing is real. Also, how do you just know how to make chicken taste good? This is amazing! I’m surprised you didn't go to culinary school,” Maggie practically shoved her food into her mouth, knowing that it would make Anne Boleyn laugh.

––––––––––

At the end of the night, both women could be found doing the exact same thing before they made themselves fall asleep:

Scrolling through their social media pages. One admiring the other’s confidence, and one admiring the other’s intelligence. A fair trade off to it all.

And despite the surprisingly good chaos from earlier on in the day, Anne Boleyn and Catherine Parr both could agree on one thing:

That there would be one day that their paths cross.

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

2020 SU Fic Sampler - WIP Showcase

So in my continued attempts at distraction, I trawled through my SU fanfic folders, looked at the ol’ endless WIP pile. Figured I’d do a little roundup of some that are in something resembling a decent state. Maybe even see where interest lies and all that, get some attention and validation, you know, all that good stuff one craves. Of course, there’s loads more than this, and I might one day post some things I wrote but never quite managed to finish up, or that got super jossed in ways I couldn’t get myself to work around.

Now, in no particular order, here’s 8 draft snippets totaling almost 6000 words - not very polished, obviously, some quite rough around the edges, some long, some short, some that work better without context than others. But here they are anyway, with an utterly predictable array of focal characters. Any missing segments or my asides/notes in the text are [written like this], because I usually write very non-linearly. Hope you all like mood whiplash! 

P.S. I live for comments.

Like Talking To A Wall, aka Bismuth making friends with the wall, statue, and floor Gems. Early precursors to radicalisation and “I would have liberated everyone”, perhaps. Started as one of my first reactions to the Diamond Days episodes.

“Hey, thanks for listening.”

“Anytime. You’re lucky I’m so supportive,” Mica piped up from up on her arch.

Bismuth laughed. Bittersweet. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am.”

Then, with a surprisingly gentle hand pressed to the carvings she’d been so careful about, she added a soft: “I’ll miss you.”

“Chin up! It’s gonna be a lovely off-planet adventure for you,” Granite rumbled from just above her head. “A brand new colony! Think of the sights!”

“You can tell us all about it when we see you again.”

Bismuth leaned back, pressing her whole back against the wall, reluctant to leave, even if a snooty shift supervisor was bound to come around and chase her off soon. “Yeah, I’ll make sure to do that.”

They all knew very well that, as always, when the building was done, it was goodbye. The chances of there being a need for repairs or remodelling - and the exact same bismuths being brought in to do them - were incredibly slim.

But pretending was nice, sometimes.

-

Hey, Steven, think I could get a moment before we leave? I won’t be long.

-

They were right where she’d left them, and the years had done very little to change them. A bit of a patina there, some dust, the tiniest bit of wear on sharper corners.

“Bismuth?” Several familiar voices cried out to her in shocked recognition.

She knew she must look a sight - battle-ready and battle-worn, but armour still gleaming, and with a bearing of one who had been through much and was always ready for more. She felt her back had never been so proud and straight, her shoulders so resolutely set.

“I think,” Bismuth grinned, “you’re gonna start seeing changes around these parts.”

---

One for that favourite Pearletariat/Pearl Solidarity fic sub-genre of mine: Clever Pearls Cleverly Getting Around Badly Worded Orders. A bit of an origin for an as-of-yet unnamed pearl OC, because I sure don’t have enough of those!

In the untold thousands of years of Homeworld and Gemkind, and the hundreds of thousands of commands given to hundreds of thousands of pearls, nobody ever thought to Order a pearl not to think. That would imply a they mattered at all, and who would ever put stock in a pearl’s thoughts? Most Gems weren’t sure pearls could think, anyway. I mean, if they could, all that standing around would be intolerable, wouldn’t it? And imagine not being able to say no to anything, even crushing your own gem - shards, at least I’m not a pearl!

They were, occasionally, when dealing with an owner’s important, private, confidential business, Ordered to forget, or, a bit less esoterically, Ordered never to tell.

And [OWNER] has always been all too eager with the Orders. As if she went to bizarre lengths in her thinking that pearl couldn’t - or wouldn’t? - do anything upon merely being told, let alone by herself. Every little thing, from sweeping up the shards of a broken decorative plate to taking down the minutes of an important meeting [OWNER] was presiding over - (im)pressed upon pearl with the crushing weight of an Order.

But she could still think.

Even when Ordered to wait by the door, freezing her limbs and anchoring her legs to the ground with all the force of a starship mooring mechanism. Even when Ordered into silence for days and planetary rotations on end because [OWNER] had wanted to read an important document without being disturbed and it simply didn’t occur to her to lift it when she was done.

In the wake of the Rebellion and the Renegade Pearl, it only gets worse, and soon enough pearl can barely remember the last time a single movement she made was voluntary.

---

SU Future-era Bismuth and Steven convo I scribbled down in between some of these recent eps - after Growing Pains in particular I think - because Bismuth is the absolute pep talk queen.

“You already said you were sorry for trying to kill me in the Forge, and really, it’s okay, it was all a misunderstanding. Besides, it’s more than a lot of people have done!”

Bismuth blinked at the pinkish sheen around Steven’s cheeks, around the downturned brows - strange trick of the light, that. “Steven, come on. Just listen to me for a minute.”

“Okay,” Steven sighed, and leaned against the railing Bismuth had fixed just that morning.

“Point is, for me, the war had never ended. It wasn’t only yesterday, it was today. It was over for everyone, it seemed, except for me. And getting over that, getting used to that, really seeing that as the truth, not living every day buzzed up with that anticipation of the next battle, just waiting for Homeworld to come down hard on us with whatever new horror they’d come up with… that took a while. And it took help.”

[sudden apparent non-sequitur but It’s An Allegory, Steven.]

“When you make a sword, you can’t make it rigid and unyielding. You can’t just temper it into toughness and hardness and make it unbreakable. It needs to have some give in order to be durable, it needs to be able to bend so as not to shatter on impact. And sure, maybe the first parry or strike wouldn’t be the one to do it, but the tenth, the hundreth, the thousandth? Any time you might just find yourself holding on to a hilt with the jagged remnants of everything, and shards scattered on the ground. And if you’re very lucky, that’ll happen during friendly sparring, not in the heat of battle.”

Steven shrugged without response, and seemed to be shrugging off all the words as well. Back to the direct approach it was, then.

“Now you, Steven,” that at least got a bit more attention, “Sure, you can brawl with the best of ‘em, and you put that gem to damn good use. You’ve got great technique drilled in, too - I’d expect nothing less from one of Pearl’s students. But that’s not how you won, in the end, is it? You never won because you were tough, or strong. You have a diamond in you but you’re not hard at all. Well, except on yourself.”

“In the end all of this was possible because you were soft. Just malleable and pliable enough when it was needed. And that takes guts.”

“Hey, I’m just saying,” Bismuth put a hand on his shoulder, and even with all the very human growing he’d done, he still seemed to almost disappear in it. “You put yourself out there for others… maybe it’s about time you let them help you.”

---

The next chapter of the His Dark Materials/Daemons AU which I am sooooo painfully late with it’s not even funny anymore. Already posted some excerpts [here] and [here].

“She’s been... away on business, but we’ve sent a zeppelin for her and she’s well on her way back. Hopefully.”

“You have a zeppelin?” Rose was rapidly failing in all her efforts to keep her voice down. 

“Of a sort. We, er, we... stole it.”

“Stole-!”

“Yes, well, stole might be a strong word,” Pearl tapped a finger against her chin. “You see, there was a small decommissioned postal craft left below the southern mail station aërodock that nobody would ever miss, all I had to do was fix it up a bit and-”

Rose blinked. “You fixed a decommissioned zeppelin.”

Pearl waved a hand almost casually. “I had some help, but yes. Svalbard, understandably, is hard to reach with other means of transport, and Bismuth needed to be able to go back and forth.”

“You,” Rose began, awed, “are utterly wasted on bringing me my slippers, I’ll tell you that.”

“Well then, maybe,” Pearl blushed, but there was nothing hesitant about her smirk and the strikingly proud tilt of her head, “maybe you could take them off with a bit more care than kicking them halfway across the room and sending them off under the cabinets and- and then I wouldn’t need to do that at all. And I could fix all the zeppelins in the world.”

-

[more from the super secret backroom rebellion meeting]

“They’re with the Consistorial Court of Discipline, no doubt. Always on the lookout for,” Bismuth grimaced, “heretics. A lot falls under that. A lot of good excuses to snatch someone off the street and do who knows what to them. And they’ve been funneling people there, people vanished by the CCD. Not lacking in test subjects lately.”

“How did you get this? Where?” It was Sapphire, this time. Ruby seemed overwhelmed, and sat clutching her hand desperately as the tiny frog and hare both whispered something to her.

“We traced the funding for all this. It was difficult and deliberately obfuscated, but we managed. A facility like this, an entire operation, cost a pretty amount, you’d assume - and you’d be right. It had to come from somewhere. And whoever was paying for it was likely to want to know what was being done with their investment.”

“So we followed the trail. And it turned out I was… ideally positioned to… to, erm, procure what evidence there was to be found. Because, well...” Pearl trailed off, and lifted one of the stolen report sheets for all to see.

It was as clear as day, the family crest right above the astronomical amount being granted. Four diamonds, neatly arranged.

Neshu’s ears were flat against his mane, and Rose found herself wishing the ground would simply open up and swallow both her and him and the chair that she sat on and he’d tried to duck under.

Bismuth spoke up, grim, every drop of earlier exuberance gone from her. “When the Diamonds look out from the windows of their mansion, they don’t see people. They see tools, toys, and weapons. Nothing else.” She sounded more tired than angry. “It’s just what they’ve always been doing, but writ large.”

---

And then, of course, the Longass PearlRose Fixit because I hate the gag order but at the same time want it gone… slowly and organically. Alternating Rose and Pearl POVs spanning throughout the rebellion era, all sorts of flashbacks and Imagining Things included. At one point they end up attempting to essentially jailbreak Pearl, because Pearl is, as we all know, absolutely the most hardcore. Also thank you SU Movie for confirming all the awful Alexa-flavour fanon/headcanons and giving me an excuse to dive into a bunch of Gems-as-AI tropey stuff, on top of everything. [another previously posted fragment here]

“I don’t want to. I never want to do that to you again.” She stops, takes a breath, reconsiders. “And I know it’s a lot to ask of you, the trust I just… trampled over. So I want to make sure that it’s not just that, you trusting me not to make the same mistake again, with no reassurance anywhere. I—I want to not be able to. Nobody should be able to do that to you.”

“Nobody should be able to do that to anyone,” Pearl corrects readily.

“You’re right,” Rose smiles, only a bit wry, “as always. My brilliant, brilliant Pearl. What would I do without you?”

“Never get back to the point you were trying to make, I imagine,” Pearl quips with something resembling sauciness, and Rose feels at least some of the weight starting to lift off her.

“Right,” Rose agrees, chastised, and tries to focus. “I just… I’m not sure how, or what I need to do at all. It’s not like there’s much precedent – ownerless pearls are unheard of. Even when their owners get shattered, it’s only ever temporary, and, with such high demand, very brief.”

Pearl nods in agreement, and hums. “Luckily, we’ve seen plenty of unheard of and unspeakable things here.”

[echoes of Scabbard convo]

“I want to know, I want to be certain, that you’re here because you want to be.” 

“So do I.” Pearl responds quietly, letting their fingers entwine.

  [Giving an order not to follow orders doesn’t work, failsafes exist. Then they try a sort of ownership transfer thing, and try to make the new owner Pearl. It doesn’t register, “invalid transfer target”, even when Pearl tries to hack it - some odd gem tool that scans and pokes at her gem - she gets all bummed out because she can’t even reprogram a very basic and modifiable handheld tool/device to recognise a pearl as an actual gem and person. What chance does she have against hearts and minds and an entire ingrained culture of an entire sprawling empire?

“You changed my mind,” says Rose all softly and earnestly.

Have I really? Pearl asks herself but doesn’t let it escape out loud. Still. Step by small step, she admits to herself. Incremental, slow, but persistent work. She can do that. Even as down on herself as she is, she can do that.]

“The… the override.” Pearl breathes out suddenly.

“What?”

“The administrative override - you, or, well... Pink Diamond should be able to trigger it, even without a Rejuvenator. We shouldn’t…” Pearl looks strangely scared now, swallowing small gulps before pushing onwards, hands trembling and fingers knotting together, “w-we shouldn’t need a full reset, really, but. But we can try modifying the owner identification...”

Having to… turn into Pink again (turn back into yourself, you mean, a small voice whispers, who are you trying to fool) doesn’t sit well with her, of course, but. Get a hold of yourself, Pearl certainly has it so much worse in this scenario.

[more here about how they both need to kind of “revert” a bit to try this and it sucks, because no! unpleasant poking of holes in the elaborate fantasy! For the greater good, but still.]

And oh, Pearl looks just about ready to either cry with some strange terror Rose has never seen her display, or dissipate her form on the spot - the small dam of coldly throwing around terms like administrative override activation and owner identification variable providing just enough distance for her to carry on.

“It shouldn’t be too risky if we’re… if you’re careful.”

[Pearl trusts her with everything, her literal entire self - with this thing that is such a blatant violation of her being and her person, that she now wants to turn against itself, using one of the most humiliatingly clearly objectifying aspects of her status as an instrument of her liberation. It is all A Lot.]

Rose remembers, also, with a sting, the way she grumbled and sulked over the gaping pit of guilt in her stomach and refused to even look at the glowing, floating shell Blue was so insistently pushing her towards. She wanted her Pearl back, not whatever White and the others had decided to foist upon her now. Not a pale replacement, nothing they deemed suitable.

-

“Please state preferred customisation options.”

“Come on, Pink,” Blue urges, softly but mercilessly as ever, large hands enveloping Pink almost whole from where they’re planted on her shoulders, “White had her specially made, just for you! And we helped as well - only the best for our Pink. Now it’s up to you to put your finishing touches, as is proper-”

“What for? You’ll just take her away when you feel like it anyway,” she grumbles into her arms, curling up on the floor and resolutely refusing to look even as the glow spreads from the corner of her eye, insistent.

Just as insistent as the awfully familiar little voice. “Please state preferred customisation options.”

“I. Don’t. Care!” But now with a newly noticeable, if strained restraint - not, like her usual, punctuated with a slam of her fist on the floor tiles, perfectly shiny and pink. No, she couldn’t- do something like that again-

“Default setting selected. Please stand by.”

Yellow scoffs and moves to leave. “Come on, Blue. No point to us wasting our time being here if she’s just going to throw one of her tantrums.”

But Blue refuses to leave it at that, and makes sure to cut with parting words, before slinking through the large pink doorway. “I am very disappointed in you, Pink. To act like that, and with White personally making sure you got such a lovely gift even after everything...”

“Waste of good nacre, if you ask me,” Yellow muses from somewhere up above. “At least try not to break this one.” 

The glow intensifies with a hum, and Pink screws her eyes shut and pretends not to see or hear anything. 

By the time she opens them again, the others are gone.

But then there is another presence at her side, hovering just behind, as is proper court protocol. The shuffling of tiny, soft slippers on the polished stone - weren’t pearls supposed to be endlessly, effortlessly quiet?

“Leave me alone,” she preempts quietly. The shuffling moves away.

-

“Please identify yourself.”

Calmly, now, calmly but firmly, just like we planned it. Don’t mess this up now. She’s counting on you. She trusts you. “Pearl.”

“Please state preferred customisation options.”

They’ve discussed this too, of course - extensive (over)preparation and planning down to minutiae is Pearl’s go-to at the best of times, and something she clutches at for comfort at the worst of times. And she’s always, to a sometimes comical extent, despised that ridiculous dress. To a wonderful extent, too, all things considered.

“Revert to last implemented appearance.”

“Settings selected. Please stand by.”

[Of course this doesn’t work because all it does is change the $username$ variable, not the actual identity of the person imprinted: it’s still Rose/Pink, she’s just nicknamed “Pearl” now, but she can still give orders and everything.]

[evolves into Pearl literally hacking herself… the most hardcore of modders]

---

Pearl Playing the Field aka “why not hyper-analyze that one brief shot of the notes and phone numbers in Pearl’s gem and write 9 meet-cutes”. Pearl goes out to “find herself”. Whatever that is supposed to mean. Supposed to be set pre-ASPR, but also extends past it. Ended up with some Bispearl in it too because I am predictable and can absolutely not help myself.

“Your hair is wonderful!” She feels like she almost has to shout to be heard over the din of the bar’s ill-chosen soundtrack, and she doesn’t appreciate it. Definitely not one of her favourite places she’s decided to visit recently. And the ventilation is atrocious.

But still, she’s come all this way, so she may as well make the best of it. And while the preoccupation with hairstyles during first meetings seems like a bit of an odd running theme (can it really be termed a running theme, though, if it’s happened all of two times?), it’s certainly worked in the past (recent, very recent, and hardly bursting with relevant instances, Pearl!). Oh, and this particular one is just too fascinating. Approaching a work of art, Pearl would dare say. Especially, well. Especially when paired with the lovely eyes and striking jawline and strong neck it seems to deliberately be drawing attention to.

Pearl leans on the bar, in the bit of space the woman happily makes for her, and tries to look confident and well-informed, but not smug, no, never smug. “I know... about the, uh, goop, of course. I know how one accomplishes this.”

The woman gives a bemused smile. “Thanks! Not too shabby yourself.” She leans in closer. “I'm actually in school for it.”

“School?” Pearl casts desperately back to what she's heard from Steven and Greg's often hasty instruction. That was for educating human children, wasn't it? She'd put one together for Steven that one time, with desks and a blackboard… and Connie attended one regularly...

“Yeah, kind of a late game career change.” Pearl nods along as she realises - or, rather, remembers - she is absolutely terrible at gauging human ages. “But I thought... after almost 30 years in accounting and not going anywhere I wanted to be going... it’s not like we have all the time in the world, right? So I figured, why not? Go for something I'm actually invested in and that I've always wanted to do, y'know?”

“Oh. Oh yes, yes I do.” And for once, she really does. Well, not the time-related bit, perhaps, but the very particular delight of getting to pursue one’s genuine interests after a long while of being denied? Absolutely. “I’ve done something of the sort myself, actually. Go for it! As they, uh, say.”

The dramatic gesture of almost punching the air with a closed triumphant/defiant fist might have been a tad over the top, but it wins her a smile that doesn’t seem unkind. The woman winks and tips her glass at Pearl, then finishes her drink - something sweet-smelling and almost as colourful as her hair.

“I had a classmate do this one for me, and I did hers after.” Pearl is nodding along again, leaning in to hear better as the woman’s voice dips lower. “I kind of like to experiment, push the limits, go wild with it. Hey. You interested? Promise I won’t go too wild on you.”

Pearl's mind goes blank there for a moment. The woman is… very close, and there are unignorable implications unrelated to hair styling so obvious here even she is picking up on them without issue, and the music hasn’t gotten any quieter. Interested in what, exactly, she wants to ask, but she came here for wild new experiences and exciting novelty, didn’t she, so instead comes out with a rather strangled-sounding: “Eughhhhh...uhhh.... Ye...s?”

The woman’s expression goes serious. “Hey, come on, we don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

---

Forge Showdown AU - aka in a twist of fate Bismuth poofs Rose during their confrontation and revelations happen that change the course of… well, pretty much everything - one of a bunch of AUs where the PD reveal happens earlier and under different circumstances (I had an idea of doing a 5+1 of those at one point).

The glow of the lava coloured the quickly dissipating smoke more orange-red than pale pink, and Bismuth stared numbly at where their revered leader, Rose Quartz herself, had been standing mere moments ago. She’d lashed out, true, but she hadn’t really been expecting the clumsy blow - more of a warning, or underlining a point in their continued argument-turned-fight - to land. In all their many sparring sessions, Rose had never succumbed to something like that, would have never so much as let it brush against her. But she’d been- frozen, distracted… by what? 

There, scraping softly against the ground as it rolled with leftover momentum...

That was not a rose quartz gem.

Bismuth raked her mind feverishly, thought back through the last few, oddly blurred seconds.

“We’re not using this, Bismuth! It’d make us just as bad as them!”

“No! You’re the one who’s as bad as them- look at you, lording over all of us, thinking it’s your right to command me, order me around, like you’re, what, my diamond?”

It… it had to be some kind of imposter, or spy. Right? Some kind of… awful Homeworld plan, trying to tear the Rebellion apart from the inside. Where was Rose, then? The real one? Captured? Being interrogated somewhere, her whereabouts kept strictly secret to minimise the chance of rescue? Shattered? Impossible, they’d never hear the end of the victorious crowing.

When could it have happened? The last few battles and meetings had been nothing out of the ordinary, and Bismuth couldn’t think of anything odd or off about Rose recently at all. Not a single hint or sign that anything was amiss. Not a single misstep. Homeworld would have trained and conditioned its agents well, but Rose- Rose was singular, and utterly one-of-a-kind, and how could they possibly capture all of it so perfectly-

Bismuth startled out of her thoughts as the beginnings of light seemed to gather in the core of the gem, and all but threw herself onto it, encasing it in a bubble.

Rose was rather special, wasn’t she? And not just in what she said or what she did or how she behaved or what she led and encouraged them to do, but… 

Her endless array of wondrous powers. Her sheer strength, overpowering ruby fusions and quartz battalions alike almost single-handedly. The healing which Bismuth herself had been on the receiving, lifesaving end of countless times. The way she called upon the organic creatures of the planet to fight for her, fighting in their name. And then, her regular absences. The way she seemed to know exactly what the Homeworld troops were up to - that wasn’t just some kind of tactical brilliance.

She dared to look at the gem again. Its hue was changed some by the bubble, but that was still in no way a rose quartz gem. No, it was an altogether different shape, but a terrifyingly familiar one.

But it made no sense!

Bismuth ran a slightly trembling hand down her face.

Pearl. Of course, Pearl would have to know, if anyone. About… whatever this was.

But if this, if she was… her, then Pearl-

Bismuth’s insides twisted in horrible ways as the implications began to flitter through her mind, each one worse than the one before it. There was the old call-and-response ringing in her ears, making her feel disoriented and sick with what had to be the beginnings of anger, could grow into a great fury, leaving her unnecessary breaths ragged: Who do you belong to? Nobody!

But-

Not Pearl, then. At least, not at first. Garnet. Garnet would know, and Garnet could See. They’d get to the bottom of this.

---

A metric ton of rebellion era ficlets, vignettes from my eeeEEeeEEeeEEE Bismuth collection mostly, which I’ve been accumulating since 2016 and have only posted some - Pearl, Rose, Garnet, Bismuth centric, occasionally with my takes on namedropped characters, some of which would now need an update to match actual canon.

Snowflake was there, held in Garnet’s arms. The familiar pattern of white speckles on black skin, the tight silver coils of hair sticking out every which way.

“We got her back. She wanted to see you.”

“Me? And you just listened to her? Are you out of your mind? How can I help? Have you taken her to Rose? If her gem- if she-”

“I’m right here!” Snowflake struggled out of Garnet’s hold, and stood up - wobbly, barely upright, but determined, on those legs that ran circles around Homeworld, and ran interference and messages faster than any Wailing Stone, in a pinch. “And I’m fine!”

“You don’t look fine, Snowy- listen, please just-”

Snowflake walked up to her, not stumbling a single time, and, gritting her teeth, looked right at her. The hairline fractures in her gem were visible from here, and Bismuth couldn’t help a wince. “Snowflake, come on-”

“I didn’t tell them anything.”

Bismuth wanted to clutch her to her chest and scream a thousand things at her, but You don’t have to prove anything to me and I’m proud of you and I’m going to make them pay for ever laying a finger on you all waged a war in her throat.

In the end she just settled on holding her close, very gently, until Garnet left, unheard, and came back with Rose, tears already in abundance.

[Later:] “I never properly thanked you, Garnet. For bringing Snowflake back.”

Garnet shrugged. “It was a group effort.”

-

A familiar voice sounded at the entrance to the Forge. “Now come along, it’s just here. Bismuth? Do you have a moment?”

“You know I always have time for you, Pearl,” she called back, putting her current project away. “What did you nee- oh.”

Bismuth blinked.

“Uh... wow,” was the only thing she could manage as pearl after pearl filed into her Forge, soon taking up most of the space around the anvil in impressively neat rows. “New recruits? A whole bunch of you, too.”

“Yes, well,” Pearl made her way to the front of the group, carefully avoiding brushing against the others on her way. She was fidgeting again, long fingers tangling and untangling rapidly, and that was one sure sign of mounting distress. “Garnet and I had planned out an attack on one of Blue Diamond’s supply lines. There was supposed to be a shipment of weapons coming in today, but it turns out it was… pearls.” 

There was something rather off about Pearl’s tone, too. Bismuth made a note to ask later, and do her best to catch her alone.

“Well, all the better for us. Nice to have you all on board.” Her jovial tone was only slightly forced - the pearls all looked like they clearly needed something resembling friendliness, but their skittishness was palpable. She turned towards a pale green pearl right at the front of the group. “Now, what do I call you?”

There was nothing but mild confusion, vague fear, and general quiet shuffling. “No ideas yet? Don’t worry about it! There’s plenty of time to decide and find something that fits.”

[she does indeed manage to talk to Pearl alone, later]

“What’s the real problem, Pearl? You can’t fool me. I can tell something’s wrong.” 

The rather flimsy front finally crumbled at that.

“I just… we- we took out the citrines they’d sent with the shuttle, and Garnet boosted me up so I could force the hatch open and I did, but then...” Pearl let out a distressed little half-sigh half-sob, one hand gesturing weakly. “They were all looking at me so wide-eyed and...”

She took a moment to at least attempt to collect herself.

“I don’t mind having them here, it’s not that at all. It’s just that… we were standing there, with all these newly-made pearls and… obviously I couldn’t just leave them there, in the middle of nowhere! And after what we did, whoever found them, they’d just have them shattered. Because of me. They were compromised. You’ve heard what they do now, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard. They’re the monsters, Pearl, and it’s not on you. It’s not you doing that to pearls, it’s them.”

“But it is on me! It quite literally is because of me, because of what I did, and continue to do. I made myself visible and played at being important and look what it got us,” Pearl was near tears, a frustrated blue colouring her face, “a handful of runaways and the rest being treated worse than ever.” 

The tears were out in full force after that, and Bismuth put an arm around Pearl’s shaking shoulders. “Hey, hey, none of that.”

“We ended up taking them with us, but it feels like… it feels like I forced them to come here. Is it really any better than what Homeworld does? All I did was say you’re going to be rebels instead of you’re going to serve and they never got a say in anything.”

“Have you asked them?”

“They don’t know what-”

“Hey. Just ask them, okay? Ask them what they want. We can help them either way. Of course I’d love them to stay. But it’s not up to me, and if they want to go to wherever it was they were supposed to go- we can do that, too.”

-

[Rose discovers her healing tears in a dramatic fashion - they come up with the idea to make the fountain - and thanks to Save the Light we have a pretty good idea of who lovingly made all those statues]

She gently wiped away some of the chiselling dust with the flat of her thumb, just like a tear. A magnificent, healing, life-giving tear.

This was familiar work. But with none of the endless chafing, none of the hated reminders of her former station - Bismuth couldn’t find anything in herself but reverence. And… inspiration. She was a Gem, stars knew she didn’t need rest, breaks, anything of the sort, but still - this pace wasn’t something she’d felt driven to in a long, long while. All day under the burning summer sun, and every night under the light of her own gem. All alone, as the sanctuary took form under her hands.

To get the curls just right, tiny detail by tiny detail, somehow communicate the softness of those cheeks in stone… it took drawing upon the very depths of her well of skill, because how else could she ever hope to capture the likeness of someone as extraordinary as Rose Quartz?

With small, careful movements, she formed the roundness of the lips that could spit fiery words of rebellion, inspire like no other, scowl fiercely in the heat of battle, smile contagiously, bellow out an outrageous fireside guffaw, murmur comforts so softly, kiss…

And then she did it again, and again, and again.

[in the end, Rose is presented with a veritable shrine to herself]

“Rose? Is something wrong? You… don’t like it?”

“No, no, Bismuth, it’s… it’s incredible.” The smile Rose turned on her was as beautiful as anything, but it wasn’t hard to notice it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

[rynhaswritersblock]

tiktok famous (hc) - part three | p.p.

summary: you and peter doing various tiktok trends. y'all know the deal

warnings: ultra chaotic writing (i have nine other drafts forgive me i am a tad bit stressed), cussing as always, and HOPEFULLY GOOD WRITING??? oh and yes as always peter being Babey

+ + +

- HI!!!!!! BACK AT IT AGAIN WITH THE TIKTOK HCS!!!!!!!

- i got a few requests/ideas from y'all for more tiktoks so here we are

- tbh since so many new trends are constantly coming out i might just make this a whole ass SERIES but we'll see

- who knows if i can even handle that

- btw:: if i forgot one or there's one you really want me to write you can comment it and i'll try to add it to this!!! if it's too long since posted though i'll add it to my drafts <3

- OKAY TIME FOR CHAOTIC ENERGY

- as mentioned in past versions of this series

- tiktok dances are ADDICTIVE!!!

- and you literally broke a goddamn sweat learning supalonely but we're NOT GONNA TALK ABOUT IT

- and you and peter are hanging out one day

- and as all of these ideas happen

- you get ~inspired~ by the for you page

- you set up the camera, flipping it so that it's facing peter and not you

- the lil shit hasn't even noticed that you got up yet what a poop

- but as soon as the music starts playing he raises his head

- you're doing the supalonely dance like a fucking BOSS

- all while pretending to be looking at yourself in the camera

- you don't let yourself stare at the screen so you don't get distracted

- but

- of course

- peter is nodding his beat to the beat, clapping for you, and when you to the body roll thing on "drinking" he lets out a whoop that makes you wheeze

- when you finish you laugh, letting out a sigh and grabbing your phone

"not gonna lie, you ate that."

"i know."

- you sit back down next to him, heart rate in da Clouds, and start watching the video

- petey boi is just sitting there like a puppy, crooked smile on his face as he watches you

- in a few parts he's even doing the dance with you

- and he looks so in awe

- you can't stop watching it and smiling at the screen

- but then the fucker sits down next to you and is like "you should post that it was really good"

- so you show him it

- his face gets all red bc he's babey

"you were videoing me??"

- OKAY NEXT ONE

- so i think we all know the rosa videos

- for the b99 fans: rosa rosa rosaaaaaaaaaaaa

- she's a QUEEN

- and you constantly quote those things like

- every time there's a silent moment you're just like "you're fucking lying let me see" and the whole team (avengers squad) is like ayo stfu

- one day y'all are just hanging in the commons of headquarters

- we're getting the band back together!

- and you start videoing cause you're bored

- you point the camera at peter

"aye dude come here?"

- everybody groans and peter gives the camera a sassy look, tilting his head

"you're gay? i fuckin-"

"language," steve mutters

"-knew it dude!" you smile, zooming in on the camera

- peter gets a confused look on his face

"wait no i'm bi"

- tony effin SHOOTS UP

- sitting like there's a goddamn board in his back

- and he slowly turns his head in your direction

- eyebrow raised

- you bust out laughing and so does everyone else, including peter

- tony's looking around like "hey what the FUCK is HAPPENING"

"stark, you didn't know?"

"NO??"

- lol we stan bi peter parker

- aight BACK TO THE SHITS AND GIGGLES

- so you and peter are obsessed with that quirky tiktok bartender girl who makes all the drinks

- i forgot her name but she's like

we're gonna do 2 ounces so that's 1, 2, 3, 4! we're gonna give it a nice strain! andddd shake shake shake shake! fun, right?

- yk what i mean

- hi it's editing ryn it's her tiktok is like paradise bartender

- and so one day

- jk one NIGHT

- it's like 2 am

- and you and peter are like

- let's make lemonade. but like. Fake Alcohol Version Because We're Underage

- and so y'all run to the kitchen

- you almost crush and die from slipping on your socks

- the two of you and laughing and giggling as you run and around and get all your materials

"where is the fucking STRAINER"

"bitch idk help me find the lemon flavor packets"

- it takes FAR too long but y'all are finally ready

- you start recording and the two of you are already laughing

"hey guys so today-"

"TODAY" he pushes you to the side "we're gonna be making LEMONADE!"

- the two of you keep laughing as you shove each other trying to be the one in charge

- so basically

- peter gets water all over the counter

- some of the ice flies out when you shake it

- the strainer DOESN'T WORK AND ALL THE STUFF GETS EVERYWHERE

- and the small amount that lands in the cup tastes like whispering lemon

- like hella watered down there's like nothing there

- the lemon is SHY

- and then in the last 10 seconds of the video bucky walks in

- and he's like wtf... wait y'all are making lemonade??

- and the three of you end up making lemonade for real and drinking it while watching infomercials

- at two in the morning

- fun, right?

- those videos are so satisfying NEXT TIKTOK

- thank u ritxal for the idea !!

- so our boi PETE HERE

- is hella addicted to those cool pov videos

- and he gets a really good idea even though it would make him a SIMP

- he ends up deciding FUCK IT I'M MAKING ONE

- MY TIKTOK ACCOUNT IS PRIVATE ANYWAYS

- so he sets up his phone and jumps around to get ~~in the zone~~

- feeling stupid as hell

- he films one of those ones where it's the "from the other side" *noise!!!!!!!!* one's yk where the ppl are like "are you sure you want to __?" and it has the yes and no buttons

- you know

- i hope

- and he puts the text on it and shrugs, posting it

- meanwhile you're home and you get the notification that peter posted a tiktok

- obviously you click on it because

- uh

- because

- and you watch it and gasp because the caption says pov and ur like who tf is this man peter never posts povs

- you watch as peter is looking nervously at the camera and text pops up saying "are you sure you want to give up?"

- he presses yes and you're like oh god oh peter wait is this a sign shit FUCK

- a new text bubble pops up saying "do you want to see her?" and you fucking yeLP

- you're like holy FUCK WAIT WHO IS HER???? WIFE???? DAUGHTER?????? HUH!!!!!!!

- and then he presses yes

- and the screen goes black

- you see urself in the screen

- and you basically DIE

- a wheeze so hard that it hurts flies out of your mouth and you IMMEDIATELY PRESS DUET

- you start filming with your phone facing the ceiling and as the beat drops (or whatever when it's like ahhhh!) you pop onto the screen, smiling

- and you're like RANDOM CONFIDENCE BOOST WHATEVER POST

- and then BACK TO PETER'S PLACE

- HE GETS THE NOTIFICATION AND IS LIKE WHAT

- AND WHEN HE SEES YOU POP ONTO THE SCREEN HE'S LIKE HOLY FUCK

- AND SO HE FACETIMES YOU

- YOU ANSWER OBVI

"y/n what the hell"

"did you like it?"

"maybe"

- okay i wanna do another pov one so here we go

- i'm sure everyone here is acquainted with the "they call me tiago.. i don't know who's margo" ones

-  these are lowkey difficult to write out so i'm just gonna lay it out for you as best i can

- really trying here

- so peter posts the boy's voice part ("no no no... they call me tiago. i don't know who's margo? i just hit this lotto" etc etc etc)

- and when it's like idk who's margo he just holds a stare with the camera in like an InTiMiDaTiNg way

- even though he's babey and a literal puppy it actually like.. works

- and when you see it you're like yes so you post the other part (that people never do lol "her name is margo" etc all the female voicing)

- and you hold the stare too and EVEN LIKE RAISE YOUR EYEBROW SUGGESTIVELY AND GIVE HIM THE LOOK IYKYK

- so BASICALLY

- i'm really trying here i can visualize these tiktoks perfectly but GOD if i don't struggle a bit while writing them

PETER'S CAPTION: pov: we're rivals on separate missions but you keep screwing with my plans so i try to intimidate you

Y/N'S CAPTION: pov: we're rivals on separate missions but i found you cute so i decide to mess around with your mission

- OH BY THE WAY THE TWO OF YOU LIVE AT AVENGERS HEADQUARTERS AND HE POSTED "YESTERDAY" SO YOU DECIDE TO POST "TODAY" AND WALK OUT OF YOUR ROOM TO WHERE HE WAS IN THE COMMONS RIGHT AFTER YOU POSTED

- can y'all tell how messy my brain is holy shit

- pls forgive me i keep getting random ideas but IT ADDS TO THE CHAOS SO IT'S FINE RIGHT

- OKAY

- BACK AGAIN

- so you post and walk out and as you turn the corner to the commons you can hear the sound play and have to stop a moment to silently scream

- thankfully no one else was in there except for peter (whose back was to you) otherwise you woulda looked INSANE

- you walk up behind him and smile as he laughs slightly and watches it another time, pulling his phone closer to his face to read the caption

"holy shit," he mutters

- he closes his eyes and smiles and tilts his head back, resting it on the back of the couch (🥺)

"you like it?"

- lol

- this kid SHOOTS UP

- HELLO

"oh my god, y/n, what are you doing"

"coming to hang out with you??"

- he sighs as you come and plop down next to him

"what the hell is this"

- he shows you his phone

"a tiktok"

- he smiles and shakes his head (doing that thing where you like look down while doing it and it's so CUTE)

"yeah. i got that."

- NEXT TIKTOK

- alright guess the scenario

- just fucking guess

- i'll wait

- ...

- you'd best BELIEVE that y'all are chilling at headquarters in the commons rn

- where da HELL ELSE

- and

- like LITERALLY EVERY OTHER TIKTOK THAT I WRITE OUT IN THESE

- YOU AND PETE BE CHILLIN

- AND YOU SET UP YOUR PHONE

- god i'm starting to question if i'm capable of writing literally anything else damn

- peter's in the background of course

- and it's this godforsaken audio i'm sure most of you have heard

- you know the one where it's like fast music and then it goes "mm, yeah" and it's usually accompanied with a video of some really pretty girl fake moaning and like rolling her eyes while pushing up her hair??

- well

- all of that

- everything i just said

- is exactly what you do

- and the thing is

- as soon as peter hears the audio he recognizes it

- are we gonna talk about the fact that peter probably spent at least a whole night watching those videos because 1) girls are really pretty and 2) every time he heard it he could vividly imagine you doing it??????? no??? okay

- so he like

- sits up

- does the thing where he rests his forearms on his knees and leans forward, glaring at you through the camera

- and in the background

- if you're paying attention

- peter FLIPS HIS SHIT WHEN YOU DO THE "MM YEAH" PART

- he tHROWS HIS ARMS IN THE AIR LIKE WHAT THE HELL DUDE I THOUGHT I GAVE YOU SIGNS THAT EVEN THOUGH WE'RE NOT A COUPLE AND WE BOTH KNOW YOU LIVE YOUR LIFE OUT OF SPITE,, DOING SOMETHING LIKE THAT ON VIDEO IS ABSOLUTELY OFF LIMITS!!!!!!!

"Y/N!"

- it's still recording and you turn around and laugh, throwing your head back as he jumps up and grabs you by the waist, pulling you in

- the two of you start play fighting just like elio and oliver from cmbyn (but a bit less steamy yk?? more innocent yet still w a bit of tension yeye)

- needless to say you keep that video in a very special place of your heart

- and so does peter like once the two of you stop wrestling you realize that the video had just been looping behind the sound of your laughter and fighting y'all watch it and it loops a few times while the two of you are silent and he finally goes "can you uh. can you send that. to me. ???????"

- next oneeeeeeeeeeeeee

- thank u lilmissquackson for the idea <3

- so in this one you and petey are dating

- and y'all decide to do the put a finger down challenge lol

- but instead of using an audio y'all decide to switch off coming up with ones on the spot

"put a finger down if your boyfriend tackles you every time you're standing near a couch or bed"

"put a finger down if your girlfriend still calls you dude"

"put a finger down if your boyfriend once webbed you to the wall because you wouldn't stand still when he was trying to kiss you"

"put a finger down if your girlfriend used her telepathic powers to keep you out of her room when she was mad at you"

"put a finger down if your boyfriend took TWO YEARS TO ASK YOU OUT"

"put a finger down if your girlfriend started laughing after you told her you liked her"

"put a finger down if you only started laughing because it TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH"

"put a finger down if your girlfriend showed no signs of liking you before you decided to ask her out"

"put a finger down if your boyfriend is the most oblivious boy in the world"

"put a finger down if you're in love with your girlfriend but haven't said 'i love you' yet because you're scared she won't say it back"

- your jaw drops and turn to him

- needless to say you were very glad to have caught your first "i love you"s on camera

- SIDE NOTE you did not post cause after you and peter watched the video back y'all were both like "we don't wanna be THOSE bitches"

- next one woop

- thank u MrsLillianAmbrose for the idea !!

- okay buds

- so here's the thing

- i hate to under-perform

- but i feel like the best way to get the full effect of this tiktok is to watch it and then just roll with me here

- SOOOOO (if u can)

1) open tiktok 2) search @_tharealjohnnyyy_ 3) go to his account (or it might just show up when you search) 4) and scroll to the "ways to cuddle" video 5) it was posted in february 2020 if that helps give u a time reference lol

- OKAY

- I HOPE Y'ALL GOT TO WATCH IT

- I TRIED JUST PUTTING IT IN HERE BUT WATTPAD WOULDN'T LET ME AND I COULDN'T FIND IT ON YOUTUBE (let me know if one of u does!!!)

- if u weren't able to watch it (i'm so sorry) i'm gonna do the best i can to at least make this entertaining

- WOOP

- so if you could see the tiktok that's really all this is

- you and peter doing literally the same thing

- y'all are giggling in between positions and peter struggles to set the camera up every time it falls

- he ends up just webbing it to the ceiling

- and in the end the two of you fall asleep in the reverse OG position with your fingers playing with his hair 🥰🥰

- i hope that was good enough im sorry AH

- next!!

- thank u Mendesmycam for the idea <33

- okay so y'all know that sound

SOMETHING ABOUT YA GORLL

REALLY MAKES MY HEADDDD WANNA TWIRLLLLLLLLLL

- or whatever the lyrics are

- those tiktoks are SO FUNNY

- AND YOU DECIDE TO COPY THEM

- so you grab a chair and sit peter down in the middle of the room and set the camera up

- luckily for you he has a bag of cheez-its in hand that you plan to utilize later

- babey has a confused look on his face as he watches you press play and he shoves some more cheez-its in his mouth

- the music starts playing and you just about bust out laughing as you walk all around him, running your hand across his chest

- his heart is racing he's like AYO WHAT THE FUCK IS GOIN ON

"y/n what the hell are you-"

SOMETHING ABOUT YOU GIRL

- you practically snap into a weird position

- ur freaking arms are out in front of you and you're on your toes and knees are bent and you're hunched over and it's like

- a very interesting pose

- peter BUSTS OUT LAUGHING

- his eyes are all crinkly as he bends over in the chair

- you just about break but you manage to keep a straight face as you start dancing around weirdly

- needless to say you look like a goddamn CONTORTIONIST

- peter can't stop wheezing

- you make one of your hands in the shape of like the italian man hand this iykyk and fucking SWAN DIVE YOUR FINGERS INTO HIS CHEEZ-IT BAG

- meanwhile peter's STILL DYING

- and you take the cheezits and lean back, sprinkling them all over you (like the popcorn one if you saw that tiktok lmao)

- and the video finally ends and you get to laugh

"y/n what the hell was that"

"i don't know i thought you might enjoy a little entertainment"

- and of course

- that's exactly when no other than SAM WILSON fucking strolls in

- hey how y'all doin'- AHHH (get yo fucking dog bitch! ~it don't bite~ YES IT DO GET YO-)

- sorry got distracted

- and he hears you and his head SPINS ON OVER TO Y'ALL'S DIRECTION

"a little what now?"

- AIGHT GUYS

- LAST ONE

- Y'ALL ARE AT HEADQUARTERS CAUSE WHERE DA HECK ELSE

- this time you're in peter's room though

- and i'd like to imagine this one with the cool led lights because 1) tiktok and 2) i feel like peter would have those in his room

- y'all are just chilling watching hot rod (GREAT MOVIE BTW)

- and

- peter sets up the camera

- not to mention his heart is RACING RN CAUSE HE'S A NERVOUS BEAN

- and he hits record and leans back, letting out a sigh

- you don't even notice his phone literally right there cause you're just enjoying the movie

- a few seconds into the video and petey is like Visibly Freaking Out

- but a funny part plays and you laugh, looking over at him to see if he found it funny too

- he notices you're turning your head so he's like YES I LOOK AT TV HOT ROD MOVIE I AM LOOKING THAT WAY AND WASN'T STARING AT YOU OR THE CAMERA YES THIS IS A FUNNY PART I AM LAUGHING

- and then you look away

- and then he looks at you

- and ever so lightly grabs you by the chin

- and pulls you to him and plants his lips on yours

- finally, dumbass

+ + +

huzzah

i hope u guys enjoyed !!!!!!! ヽ(✿ﾟ▽ﾟ)ノ

[ladyfogg]

Cold is the Night - 1/20

Cold is the Night - 1/20

Fic Summary: You and Pat have known each other for years but this summer, everything will change. As the two of you start to grow close, your matching tempers threaten the foundation of your rocky friendship and prevent both of you from realizing your true feelings. Cold is the Night Masterpost. 

A/N: I was going to wait to post this next week but ended up finishing it early. So, enjoy! Hope you guys like it!

Fic Song:  Cold is the Night by The Oh Hellos

Pairing: Pat Murray/Female Reader

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Language, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Multiple Chapters

Gif by @joe-mazzello

It was the hottest day of the summer and Pat Murray thought he might melt. Literally, melt.

The D-Backs weren’t even supposed to be on the field but Ty had insisted they needed the practice. No amount of whining or convincing could change his mind, not even from Maz.

Pat stood just outside the dugout in the bright sun, sweat dripping down his face, his uniform stuck to him unpleasantly. 

“Come on, Murray, hurry up and hit something so we can get out of here!”

“Shut the fuck up, Palacco!” Pat snapped. He was the last to practice and had been at the plate for far too many swings. The rage and anxiety had long since taken over, made ten times worse by the heat. He had stepped away for a moment, hoping that would help. But it hadn’t. 

He took a deep breath but the air was so thick it did nothing to help. He stepped back up to the plate, took a few practice swings, raised his bat…and missed again.

“That’s okay, that’s okay,” Ty assured him as Pat let out a string of swears. “Try again.”

“Ty, dude, why can’t the rest of us go?” Zapata asked. “We’ll die of heat if we have to wait for Murray.”

“Fuck you, Zapata!”

“Hey! No one’s going anywhere!” Ty snapped. “We start practice together and we end it together. Now shut it!” He gestured to Dells who looked just as exhausted as Pat felt. 

Dells sighed and wound up another pitch. Pat’s hands were so sweaty, the bat was sliding against his palms. He gripped it as tight as he could, readied his body for the throw…

“Vinnie, what the fuck? You said you’d be done an hour ago!”

At the sound of your voice, Pat swung wide, missing Dells pitch by a long shot. The bat flew out of his sweaty hands and soared through the air, hurtling straight toward you. “FUCK!”

You saw the bat just in time to jump out of the way. “Shit!”

“Ey, Murray, be careful! You almost hit my baby sister!” Vinnie exclaimed dramatically. He pulled you against his gross chest protectively. “You poor baby! Did the mean ginger hurt you?!”

“Vinnie, g'off!” You struggle against your older brother, punching him in the rib to get him to let go. “I’m not even that much younger than you!“ 

Pat was furious with himself and unloaded his rage into a colorful array of swears. “Fucking fuck shit balls, fuck! Fucking idiot!”

“Alright, we’re done,” Maz declared, getting off the bench and swinging his bag over his shoulder. 

“We’re not leaving yet!” Ty exclaimed.

Maz fixated him with a stern look. “Ty, we’re done,” he repeated. “It’s too hot, Murray is losing his shit, and we’re all going to get heatstroke if we don’t get inside soon.”

Ty could never argue with Maz. With a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumped in defeat as he nodded. “Yeah alright. Garvey, Dells, bring it in. Everyone’s dismissed.”

An eruption of cheers interrupted Pat’s continued tirade. Still fuming, he headed for the shade of the dugout, throwing his helmet against the chain-link fence.

“Aww, don’t worry, little buddy! Someday you’ll hit the ball!” Vinnie cooed. 

Pat felt bad enough as it was but to hear Vinnie tease him in front of you made the whole situation unbearable for reasons he couldn’t quite understand.

You elbowed your brother. “Stop being an ass. Come on, let’s go. I’m tired of waiting for you.”

“Ooo, yeah, about that…” Vinnie gave you a sweet smile. “I forgot to text you. I’m going with Ty to meet up with Nellie. Sorrrryyy!”

Pat’s own rage settled as he watched yours build. You rounded on Vinnie, eyes flaring. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?! I waited for no goddamn reason?!”

“Aww, don’t be upset!” Vinnie reached out to squish your cheeks, something he knew you absolutely hated. “Now give your big bro a biiiig smile!”

Without warning, you pounced on him, knocking him into the dirt. Vinnie tried to fight you off as the two of you wrestled in the dirt, a common occurrence to everyone who knew you. 

Pat gathered his things while the other guys laughed He just wanted to go home and forget about his miserable performance. He slipped away before anyone could notice.

He loved baseball with every fiber of his being and yet he couldn’t hit the ball even if his fucking life depended on it. There was nothing else he’d rather do. He just wished he had half as much talent as some of the other guys.

He didn’t usually drive to the field since his house was so close. But he would have if he had bothered to check the weather before he left. A thought that had suddenly occurred to him as he reached the parking lot.

“Great. Just fucking great." 

He was beyond exhausted and now had to walk home. He didn’t want to text his dad to come and get him, seeing as he was a fucking adult. Which left the one option. In theory, he could ask one of the guys but he couldn’t bear the thought of being alone with them, knowing they’d tease him, or worse, try to give him advice. 

Pat was just contemplating if he could make it without passing out when a voice sounded behind him.

"Hey, Pat. Need a ride?”

He turned around to find you standing behind him. Your jean shorts and tank top were caked with dirt and sand, both of which were smeared across your face and in your hair. 

Pat swallowed thickly, trying to ignore the hammering of his heart. “Nah, I’m fine. I’ll walk.”

“The hell you will! It’s hot as balls!” you said, pushing past him. “Come on, my car is right over here.”

A million protests came to mind, only a few having to do with the heat. He could only imagine the comments from the guys if they saw him and you getting into a car together. Vinnie would definitely have a few words.

But with a cloudless sky and temperatures pushing mid-90s, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse. “You sure?" 

"Yeah. Since my shitty brother made me come over here, I might as well give someone a lift." 

Pat looked up at the sun and then back to your retreating frame. "Thanks,” he muttered, falling into step with you.

Your car was already running and when Pat climbed in, he was met with a blast of cold air. “Shit that’s nice.”

You laughed as you climbed into the driver’s seat. “Right? Okay. Where to?”

Pat gave you his address and sat back as you pulled out of the parking space. He scanned the direction of the field, praying no one had seen the two of you together. The guys were just cresting the hill, Maz in the lead. They seemed too preoccupied talking to each other to notice him in your car.

As you drove in silence, Pat realized it was the first time the two of you had ever been alone. You had known of each other for a long time, had met on several occasions, but that was the extent of your relationship. He realized he knew very little about you. 

Stealing a glance, he studied your profile, eyes taking in the features he had admired from afar. Maybe not admired, but definitely noticed. You focused on the road, singing along with whatever song was on the radio. He didn’t recognize it.

“Tough practice?” you asked.

Pat scowled and remained silent, his anger at himself flaring back up and forcing him to look away. 

“That bad huh?” You drummed your hands on the steering wheel as you pulled up to a red light. “I forgive you then. You know, for almost killing me with a bat.”

“Oh shit! I’m sorry!” Pat exclaimed. He had completely forgotten about that and now he felt a thousand times worse. “God, I’m such a fucking idiot!”

“Relax, I was teasing,” you said, stepping on the gas. “It was my fault for standing outside the dugout. I’ve been around you assholes long enough to know shit goes flying.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose. It’s so goddamn hot, the bat slipped.”

“Isn’t that why you’re supposed to wear gloves?”

“I forgot them.”

“Probably don’t do that next time.”

“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Tension filled the tiny space between you two as Pat sat stewing in his own anger. Sometimes it felt like he couldn’t do anything right.

“You’re brooding.”

Pat glared at you. “I’m pissed off. I’m allowed to brood.”

“Well don’t, you’ll get wrinkles.”

“Don’t you start with me too. I’ve had a shitty day.”

“Well, let’s talk about it. You’ll feel better if you let it out.”

Pat looked at you in surprise. His angry outbursts were well known to anyone who had seen him play. Most of the time he was told to calm down, not keep going.

“Fucking fuck!” he exclaimed, yanking his hat off and throwing it against the dashboard. “I’m such a fucking loser! God, no matter what I do I can’t ever get a fucking hit! Most of the time I can’t even get close!”

“Hey you got close to hitting me, that’s something!”

Pat glared at you and you gave him the same shit-eating grin your brother was famous for. “It’s not the fucking same. If almost hitting people with bats counted I’d have been drafted years ago.”

You laughed. “In all honesty though, I know you can do it.”

“How? You barely know me.”

“I’ve been to plenty of games over the years, I’ve seen you play more times than I can count. You hit when you’re not psyching yourself up. You just have to stop overthinking it.”

There it was, exactly what he didn’t want to deal with. Unsolicited advice. “Thanks for telling me the same thing I’ve heard over a thousand times before. Really helps.”

“Fuck you, I was just trying to make you feel better.”

“Well, it didn’t work.”

The rest of the drive was done in silence. When you pulled into Pat’s driveway he sighed with relief. All he could do was think about taking a long shower and passing out for a few hours.

“Thanks for the ride,” he muttered, grabbing his bag.

“Yeah, sure.”

As he opened the car door and climbed out, the heat blasted him in the face, making him grimace. The stark change reminded him how lucky he was he didn’t have to walk home. 

She really didn’t have to drive me and then I go snapping at her. Well fucking done, Murray.

Pat paused on his way to the front door before he turned around to go apologize. But you had already driven away. Cursing under his breath, he headed into the house.

[commodorecliche]

Hey Lindsay, I've read a few of your fics and I love the way you write :) I've been trying to write a story but i'm just stuck at the outline. So, I was wondering if you could, perhaps, make a little tutorial or a walk-through your process? I'd like to have my story points defined before I start writing but I don't have a structure that I can follow and I really love your style *-* It's okay if you don't feel like it though. I understand. Thank you in advance ^^

hey there friend! i’m not sure when you sent this ask today, i so hope you haven’t been waiting all day for my reply!! i just saw it.

first things first - thank you so much for your kind words about my writing. they really mean the world to me. and i am SO EXCITED to hear that you’re working on your own fic. that’s amazing!! 

now to the meat!

so i don’t know if i have specific or... super organized... process, per se, and i don’t really do a ‘strict’ outline, in the most traditional sense of the word (meaning i don’t have a document full of numbers and bullet points and such). and everyone’s process is going to be a little different, so bear in mind, what works for me might not work for you. but once you get the feel of writing your story, you’ll get a better sense of what your own writing process is. and you’ll figure out what works and doesn’t work for you. the way i do things might not work for you, but that’s totally okay, you’ll come into your own as you go along. and hey, maybe this will work for you! who knows!

but what i generally do when i start a new fic is:

1: i type out my rough and basic idea. i like to do this (and most of my outlining/drafting) in all caps, it helps keep me focused and helps me organize what i have ‘drafted’ and what i have properly written lol.

so for example, um, In the House We Remain, my first idea was jotted out like this, at the top of my document: SAPPY GHOST STORY, AZIRAPHALE BUYS A COTTAGE THAT CROWLEY USED TO OWN, CROWLEY DIED THERE. CROWLEY WAS AN AUTHOR AND HIS BOOKS ARE STILL IN THE HOUSE, WHICH IS HOW AZIRAPHALE GETS TO KNOW HIM.

that’s my base level idea, and i kept it at the top of the document.

2: from there, i start thinking about what are some MAJOR scenes i want to have happen. not the minute details, just the major scenes that were popping in and out of my head when i was daydreaming about the fic. these can be as minimal or as thorough as you like. for In the House We Remain, i had a pretty set idea on how i wanted the story to progress from start to finish, so i had a lot of scenes already in mind.

using the same fic as an example, these are some of the scene ideas i wrote in my fic document, underneath my top line idea: SCENES: - AZIRAPHALE SEES THE COTTAGE (ANATHEMA IS THE REAL ESTATE AGENT) AND HE LOVES IT. HE BUYS IT THAT DAY. (DEFINE THE LANDSCAPE AND HOW THE COTTAGE LOOKS, PROBABLY WANT A POND IN THE BACK, THAT COULD BE HOW CROWLEY WAS MURDERED. COTTAGE SHOULD BE COZY AND DREAMY, A LOVELY THING SET OUT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE COUNTRYSIDE. LOOK UP PICS FOR REFERENCES.) - GUNNA HAVE TO MENTION SOMETHING ABOUT THE HOUSE THAT’LL CONNECT TO HOW CROWLEY DIED, SOME VISUAL INDICATORS OF HIS SPIRIT. MAYBE WATER STAINS ON THE FLOOR? LIKE DRIPPING WATER MIGHT POOL AROUND A WET PERSON’S FEET? AM I GOING WITH DROWNING AS CAUSE OF DEATH? DUNNO.***COME BACK TO THIS. - WHILE UNPACKING AZIRAPHALE SEES A BUNCH OF UNFAMILIAR BOOKS IN THE STUDY AND IS CURIOUS ABOUT THEM. - AZIRAPHALE TALKS TO ANATHEMA ABOUT THE BOOKS AND THE AUTHOR. LEARNS THAT CROWLEY IS THE AUTHOR, AND THAT HE OWNED AND DIED IN THE HOUSE MYSTERIOUSLY. - AZIRAPHALE READS THE BOOKS, LOVES THEM, FEELS A CONNECTION WITH CROWLEY. - AZIRAPHALE SOMEHOW CONNECTS WITH CROWLEY’S LINGERING SPIRIT IN THE HOUSE (DETAILS TO COME) - THEY START COMMUNICATING. CROWLEY REVEALS THAT HE WAS MURDERED - I WANT THIS TO BE AN EMOTIONAL SCENE, AZIRAPHALE VERY UPSET AND DISTURBED BY WHAT HE’S BEEN TOLD. ALSO AFRAID CAUSE HE’S MADE CONTACT W/ SOMEONE WHO’S VERY DEAD. MAYBE HE EVEN CALLS ANATHEMA AFTER TO REVEAL THE NATURE OF CROWLEY’S DEATH. - NEED SCENES OF AZIRAPHALE GROWING OLD IN THE HOUSE WITH CROWLEY’S GHOST, THEN EVENTUALLY DYING AND ACTUALLY UNITING WITH HIM. SAPPY, EMOTIONAL, THE WORKS. - AZIRAPHALE AND CROWLEY’S SPIRITS LINGER IN THE HOUSE, EVEN AS A NEW COUPLE MOVES IN.

those were my major scenes that i needed to write and that would make up most of my story.

3: flesh out the aforementioned scenes. break these scenes down individually and think about them, picture them like a movie in your head. when aziraphale sees the cottage, what’s happening around him? has he gotten out of the car? what is the weather like, is it a dreamy setting? should the wind be gently rustling the trees and his hair? is he in awe? does he take a moment to take in the exterior of the house. what does the house look like? picture that entire scene from start to finish, then jot down your thoughts. remember, you aren’t actually doing Proper Good Writing out. you’re just getting the ideas down and the draft ideas fleshed out. 4: once i have those scenes fleshed out (always typed in all caps for me lol), i start the actual ‘writing’ process. I drop the all-caps, start using proper grammar, and go into I’m Telling A Story Mode. I usually try to start writing at the beginning, because i tend to visualize my stories as movies that play in my head. i need to mentally see it progress as i write it, like i would do if i were watching a movie or reading a book. but sometimes that doesn’t happen - sometimes beginnings are the hardest part. if you struggle with the beginning, skip to the first most fleshed out scene you have, the one you feel most comfortable with, or whatever scene you feel REALLY ready to write. this writing doesn’t have to be perfect (it definitely won’t be lol). but you’ll start to get a feel for how you want to actually present this story and these scenes once they’re all finalized. you can edit it and make it prettier later, but for now, just get some words on the paper as if it were a story you were ready to tell. 5: once you have your main scenes fleshed out, you need to start making connections between them. stories need depth and background, so you need to be able to go “okay, i have aziraphale loving the house and buying it, then i need him to find the books in the study, how am I going to connect those two scenes?”

you can do this part either as you go along (example: you’ve written your first Major Scene, and you want to progress onto your next scene, so you write the connections first, then once you have the connection scenes done, you can then move on to the next Major Scene from your draft) OR you can get all your major drafted scenes written, and make your connections AFTER those scenes are done. you just gotta see what works for you. 

i prefer the first method, i try to write the major scenes and the connection scenes as i go along so that i have a natural flow. that also allows me to make some changes to a later Major Scene before i actually write it. (example: hm, i was gunna have Aziraphale do XYZ in the next scene, but with this connection, I think having him do ABC in that scene might work better).

if you don’t have a clear-cut idea yet for how to connect your scenes, go back to the all caps ‘drafting’ mode, where you’re just throwing ideas on the page in between, like: ‘AZIRAPHALE HAS JUST MOVED IN AND IS READY TO UNPACK, I NEED HIM TO BRING HIS BOOKS TO THE STUDY TO START UNPACKING THEM AND SHELVING THEM. THAT’S WHEN HE SHOULD NOTICE CROWLEY’S BOOKS THAT HAVE MYSTERIOUSLY APPEARED ON THE SHELVES.’ from there, go back into ‘proper writing’ mode when you’re ready, and flesh out that scene - what is aziraphale doing while he’s unpacking? are his boxes of books already in the study, or do i need him to have a reason to bring them into the study? maybe a mover accidentally placed one in the wrong room. this is your connector that will get you between scenes. 6: once you have all your scenes done in a proper first draft, go back, do re-writes, add new things that you think you might need, take out things that aren’t necessary, check your grammar and spelling, and do your final proofing. (read your story out loud too - it’s the easiest way to catch typos, errors, or weird phrasing)

7: don’t be afraid to write ANYWHERE. many of my ideas for scenes popped up in the middle of a work day, and every time that happens, i text myself. i send myself a text, all caps, with the scene idea, and i don’t open it until i’m ready to write. it helps me keep track of things. i did a lot of writing in notebooks, on post-it notes, wherever really. i even have googledocs installed on my phone so i could access a fic from anywhere if i had a sudden idea. and if i had something new to add to the document, i put it in all caps, so i would know i needed to address it later.

8: act things out! seriously, i’m not kidding. act your scenes out with yourself. especially dialogue scenes. have those dialogues with yourself, think about how you want dialogue to progress, and talk those ideas out in a way that sounds natural to you. that’ll help you write your dialogue later. (the number of times my husband has walked in on me running through some dialogue aloud......... goodness).

9: don’t be afraid of music :) maybe it’s silly, but i make a playlist for every fic i write because i like to listen to music to get me into the correct mood for what i’m writing. it helps me a LOT. maybe it won’t be as helpful for you, but always worth a try.

and that’s really.... the extent of my process. it’s a little messy, i know, and maybe it’s not the best advice. and i just hope that it at least a LITTLE bit of sense... but i hope it will at least be of some help to you! if you’re confused about anything, please don’t hesitate to message me. 

or if you want to chat one-on-one, that’s totally fine too. i 100% don’t mind if you send me a chat message. i’m always happy to help.