#so I’ll draft up some short stories later on

[starhvney]

𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝟑 | 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟖: 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋?

𝐂𝐖: ptsd and descriptions of depression and anxiety, descriptions of reader’s hair being short, reader has scars, reader is medicated

𝐀/𝐍: this is the last chapter of subject 3! but not the end of this story…

𝐖𝐂: 8,800+

𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐑: the absolutely amazing @arienic! she's so cool guys

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 | 𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒

Your parents had brought you your favorite pair of pajamas to change into. The fabric's softer than you remember, soothing against your skin as you were ushered into the back seat for the ride home. After you'd settled in, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders, you were given your phone in a plastic bag. The screen was cracked, and when you turned it on a black line went down part of the screen. Apparently it had been dropped off the side of the road, likely to keep from tracking.

 Still, it was usable.

“It’s probably best for you to wait until you’ve settled in at home to respond to anyone's messages. And I highly recommend waiting until going on any sort of social media platform.”

Maybe it's for the best that you wait, because as soon as your phone turned on you were overloaded with more messages than your screen could even keep up with.

302 messages, 107 missed calls… So many random message requests from people you didn’t even know on social media.

Even if you weren’t still groggy from all of the anti-anxiety medicine, you don’t think you'd be able to even start unpacking most of this. Like the doctor said, it was best if you waited for a moment. You’re not even sure you can trust your parents at this point; not with how much they were clearly hiding. You’ll question them later. Later, not now, because right now… well, it’s just too much to think.

☆

The warm draft of the afternoon is gentle on your face as you gaze out at the street, the curtain sheers swaying behind you with the wind before settling across your back. This repeats in a rhythmic motion as you stay perfectly still with your chin on the edge of your windowsill, watching the world turn without you.

A silver car had pulled into the driveway about ten minutes ago, and since then there had been distant voices downstairs, too faint to make out but loud enough for you to know someone else was here in the house. So when there’s a gentle knock on the doorway of your otherwise silent room, you don’t startle or jump like you had been doing for the whole week you’ve been back.

“Good afternoon,” a man greets.

It takes effort that you don’t have to turn your head, still slouched against the wall as you examine the visitor. He has a kind face, the wrinkles that were imprinted on his skin showing he’s done a lot more smiling than frowning in his life; his voice is perfectly modulated and low in timbre.

“I’m Dr. August McCoy, do you remember me?”

He was the kindest doctor you'd spoken to in the hospital. You nod.

Dr. McCoy gives you a small smile and steps into your room. “Wonderful.”

You probably need to move now, to sit up from this spot you’ve been planted in for hours. So, after taking a moment to gather your energy, you do. The joints in your knees ache as you unfold your legs from beneath you, hands leaving your lap and flattening against the hardwood floor.

“Oh no, you don’t have to move. That’s quite a comfy spot you’ve chosen.” He smiles gently, walking closer and gesturing to a spot across from you, by the other side of the windowsill. “If it’s alright, I’ll just sit here with you.”

You nod again. With a quiet grunt, he takes a spot a few feet away from you, rubbing his knees when he’s settled in a cross-legged position.

“These knees don’t work like they used to,” he chuckles lightly, setting down a notebook and pen next to him before his brown eyes pivot back to you. “You seemed like you were pretty lost in thought, there.”

Yes—surely in the long period you'd been sitting here in silence, some train of thought had passed through your mind. But, truth be told, you hadn’t been thinking. Not at all. The emptiness making itself home in your chest was the only thing you could focus on, its heaviness pulling in your soul like a black hole, slowly consuming you.

“Ah, perhaps not thinking at all,” Dr. McCoy answers for you. “Simply sitting in silence and letting your mind rest is also quite the healthy practice.”

“I wasn’t really thinking about anything, yeah,” you admit. You're relieved when he hums in understanding.

“I see.” He casually rests his elbows on his knees. “Well, the last time we talked, you mentioned that you were going to talk to the couple who found you. How did that go?”

Donna and Logan. They came by to visit you a few days after you’d returned—by your request and their—or at least Donna’s—eagerness. She was a sweet woman with an endearing Southern accent. Her husband wasn’t so sweet in comparison, but he at least seemed to want to know if you were alright.

They'd been on a long drive back from their honeymoon when you'd ran onto the road, covered in blood, and collapsed in front of their car. Donna told you she recognized you when she saw the news, that she remembered you as the “cute little girl who came in the store with that punk ass Gene” sometime during the school year. After she brought it up, you remembered her as well—though at the time, skipping school and the… stalker were your biggest concerns. You thanked them both for saving you, and she gave you her number in case you needed any help, including “kicking Gene or any boy that gives you trouble's ass”.

“It was nice,” you tell Doctor McCoy. “Donna's… She's a good woman.”

“Yes, I’m positive she is.” He pauses. “After you had that conversation with them, can you tell me what you thought; what you felt?”

You glance away, back out to the street. After Donna had gone off about simple teenager problems like boy drama, the memories of your life last school year came flooding back.

“Ah, I see something there,” he notes, reading you like a book. “A thought? A question?”

Silence falls as he gives you time to answer.

“Will I ever be normal again?”

He smiles, tilting his head. ��Well, what is normal?”

“...What?”

“To answer your question I need to know how you define normal. It varies from person to person, you know.”

“I… I don’t know. Happy. Not always feeling like something bad is going to happen.” You sigh, shrugging. “Like how I was last year. Even though I was still worried about things happening, I still had fun.”

He nods, looking very assured of himself. “Then yes, you can.”

“…How do you know that?”

“Because! If you want to get better, then you shall.” He leans forward again, tapping his finger against the side of his head “The human mind is the most powerful thing anyone can own. You can heal yourself by just believing more than any pill I give you.”

You lower your head. “You’re making it sound like it’s simple.”

“Oh, I never claimed it was. It’s going to be a very difficult journey, and you’re likely going to fall down, many many times. But… you know what?” He turns his finger towards you. “You are a very strong young woman. And the fact you’re thinking about getting better instead of just giving up is a big enough sign to me that you have the strength to get through this.”

“What should I do then?” you whisper, looking back up at him.

“Well, for starters, you said you want to be “normal” again, yes?”

“Yes…”

He gestures out the window. “Well, what would a 'normal' girl your age be doing right now? Where are your friends?”

The start of your junior year began yesterday. 

“At school.”

He leans back, now gesturing to you.

“Then why don’t you return to school?”

Return to school?

Was that even possible? Whoever had taken you still hasn’t been found. You’re a risk, a liability. The special treatment on top of having to deal with everyday high school issues… would that have to be your life? Were you supposed to deal with Ivy shit-talking you while downing your daily Citalopram at the same time? Could you do your Algebra homework while dealing with night terrors and only getting three hours of sleep again?

He chuckles. “Oh, that’s quite a face you made to that. I don’t blame you for not wanting to go to high school right now. I mean, being surrounded by so many people your age at such a time in your life…  Well, that sounds like a nightmare, doesn’t it?”

That’s an understatement. “Yeah.”

“That’s understandable. But, sometimes, the best way for people with PTSD to be on their way to becoming 'normal' is to simply return to the same life they had before—even if it’s a bit out of their comfort zone.”

Talking right now to this man one-on-one feels like pulling teeth, never mind going to a place with hundreds of kids your age every day. It was daunting before, but now… isn’t it almost impossible to imagine? Would the childish bullying you endured last year get worse, or will everyone treat you like a ticking time bomb?

“How am I supposed to act normal in school when everyone knows what happened to me? They’re going to treat me like I’m some—some case.”

“Oh, you will get quite some attention at first, good and bad,” he says lightly. It’s a little aggravating. “But, with time, that will fade, and your friends who truly care about you are the ones you can trust to help you through it.  I heard from your mom that you have a pretty great group of friends. Don’t you?”

You glance at your wall, covered in photographs, drawings, and notes—all from just one year since… today? No—yesterday. “Yes.”

“Since you mentioned you were having some trouble trusting people, I want you to take a moment to think about the friends you truly trust.” He emphasizes his words with a determined closed fist. “Do you have a diary?”

A journal with beautiful gold gilding lays on the corner of your desk, untouched since summer.

“...Yes. My friend Nana gave it to me.”

“Then, I want you to read over your journal and think about all of the people you know through the perspective of the journal, not through your current perspective. Then, on a sheet of paper, write down every person you trust. Don’t write down people you don’t trust, either. Only a list of people you know you can rely on. Maybe this Miss Nana can be one of the first you write down, yes?”

“Why not people I can’t trust?” Your eyebrows pinch together.

“Because, just like you have, people can always change. You don’t want to doom someone to be permanently on your untrustworthy list, just like you don’t want people to treat you differently because of what happened.”

“...Even people who I know are bullies?”

“Well if you already know that they are, you don’t need to write down that you need to stay away from them, do you? You seem to already remember!” he laughs, clasping his worn hands together. “Make that list, and think about what you want to do. Maybe try hanging out with the friends you trust after making it, and then decide from there if you want to return to school or not. How does that sound?”

☆

You stare down at the blank page on your desk, a freshly sharpened pencil twirling mindlessly between your fingers. Your hair was still damp from the shower; your goal of feeling warm under the running water quickly losing its appeal as you shiver in your chair. 

December 29, 20xx

Nana gave me this journal. It’s so pretty that I almost don’t want to write in it and mess it up. But I figured I shouldn’t let her gift go to waste, either. She’s always been so sweet. This isn't the only thing she got me, either—there's way more sitting on my bed right now, and all because she was so grateful I’ve been a good friend to her. I wanted to tell her that I was even more grateful that she and everyone else was friends with me, but I can't remember if I actually said it out loud like I meant to.

Speaking of gifts, actually—Vylad really loved the gift that I gave him! I was a little nervous he wouldn’t be all that excited about it, but I should’ve known better. He was as grateful and cheerful as ever. I’m really glad he’s become a part of the friend group, not just as Garroth’s little brother but as himself. I kinda wish Zane would try, too, but also… I don’t know what his deal is. I’m still mad at him for trying to be one of Gene’s little gang members. For how amazing Zianna is, I’m surprised he’s turning out to be a bit of a punk. It might be because of Garte. No, it definitely is. I just hope he gets his shit figured out before he starts doing stupid stuff to be “edgy”.

Anyway, right now everyone’s doing their own thing with their families, but I think we’re going to go to Laurance’s house for fireworks and stuff on New Year's? I’m pretty excited, cause I haven’t been to his and Cadenza’s house yet. Apparently they have a few sheep that their dad takes care of? So cute! Cadenza told me she was going to show me some string she literally spun HERSELF from the wool to use for making clothes. She is so much cooler than me.

You suck in a breath, then bring the graphite down onto the dauntingly white page.

People I trust:

Nana

Vylad

Garroth

Zane?? Not really 

Definitely Zianna

Laurance

Cadenza

Next pages…

January 8, 20xx

It’s the first day back from the break, and surprisingly enough I still haven’t had to deal with anybody being rude. At least for now. It’s pretty great, actually. Instead of being a loser freak everyone points and yells at, I’m just a normal loser with some cool friends. I think after Katelyn and Lucinda stood up for me and cussed out enough people, everyone took the hint and turned on Ivy. Who knows if that’ll last, though? I bet she’ll find a way to be as popular as before. But I’ll bask in my victory until that happens.

Gene, Sasha, and Zenix surprisingly have kept their word and haven’t messed with me. I caught them looking at me today during lunch, and Sasha even smiled at me in a not contemptuous way. I still don’t really like them, but… I don’t hate them, either. I guess we have some sort of weird mutual respect for each other now.

February 14, 20xx

Dante and Travis are weirdo little goobers, but they’re hilarious. I thought today would be kinda boring, but they started the day bright and early by attempting to use their best one-liners on me? All of them were shit, but it was entertaining, to say the least.

Also, PDH does this event where you can send flowers, candies, and sodas to people for Valentine's Day. I thought I was getting pranked when I got my entire desk covered in gifts. Some were from my friends (Teony sent me like three things, love her), but a bunch were from anonymous senders? I tried questioning everyone about it but—well, if they knew anything they were doing a good job of acting like they didn’t.

Aaron gave Aphmau a ton of gifts, one of them being a cute plushie. I was a little nervous about them being a thing at first, but with the way she talks about him and how sweet he is to her, I think I’m opening up to it. I still haven’t talked to him much at all, but he seems cool enough when I do. Maybe he was just going through something when school started up. Kinda like me. His friends (some of the werewolf kids I’ve kinda met—Blaze, Rylan, Dottie, and this kid named Daniel) seem pretty fun to be around, too. Anyway, I’m just glad Aphmau gets to have a boyfriend that treats her well. Sylvanna is not super happy, and I understand her overprotectiveness… to an extent. I guess we’ll see how that situation unfolds in the future.

Okay…

People I trust (cont.):

Katelyn

Lucinda

Maybe Gene, Sasha, and Zenix??? Maybe not.

Dante

Travis

Teony

Aphmau

Probably Aaron

Sylvanna

That’s already eighteen people you know at least aren’t wishing for your demise, and most of them are likely still waiting for a response to their messages. You’d replied to a few, but it was hard to know what to say.

“Hey, twentieth person to check in on me! Yes, I am super traumatized, and life will never be the same, but I’m doing great! Alive and well!”

Yeah, probably not.

Eighteen people is a lot of people to trust, doesn’t it? But, you suppose that’s the point Dr. McCoy was trying to make. Still, for this many people (or at least fifteen depending on how accurate you are about the Shadow Knights) to care about you… you guess you hadn’t really counted just how many people you’d become close with over the last year.

Above you on the wall are all of the pictures you’d accumulated; the memories held within the glossy paper are so fond, so warm in your heart, and yet… so distant.

Aphmau and you in your uniforms, posing by the entrance of the school. Your eyes look a little glossed over from how anxious you felt that day, but it was a little funny to look back on.

Katelyn, Nicole, and you: sweaty and laughing after practicing volleyball in the gym. That was the day Katelyn started begging you to join the team.

A candid of Lucinda applying your makeup for prom. You felt so pretty; she had taken extra care to make sure it was perfect for you.

A funny note Dante wrote you in class. He’d drawn a really stupid iteration of the teacher, and you almost got caught cause you'd laughed so hard.

Everyone sitting out on the Ro’meaves' back porch. Zianna had insisted everyone pose for pictures. You were cuddled between Teony and Nana, their arms draped over you.

The collaborative drawing you guys did at the Fall Festival. Garroth’s looks so silly—you remember having to defend him against Laurance’s teasing for a good five minutes. It was so hard to stop laughing.

A selfie Cadenza had taken with you, Aphmau, and Laurance in her car. The siblings’ silly bickering and good music taste started becoming the highlight of your mornings.

Travis, Vylad, Aphmau, and you at the movies, and the ticket you used. You all watched a corny romance movie Aph had begged you all to see with her.

Oh my God… why haven’t you talked to them? You cover your mouth, the features of your face crumpling as a whimpering noise leaves your throat. Why haven’t you seen them?

Shakily, you stand and reach for the closest picture pinned to the wall, weak fingers pinching onto the photo and pulling hastily. It gives easier than you expected, and your socked feet slip from beneath you, sending you tumbling down onto the floor. The tack holding the picture up slips from your grip in the process, finding itself unfortunately underneath you when you crash against the wood, lodging the pointed end right into your hand.

“Ah!” you hiss, tears springing to your eyes. Your turn your palm over to look at the injury. Damn it. “Ow…”

The pain's brief, replaced by a dull throbbing as you sit up. With a grimace, you pinch the thumbtack between your fingers, slowly removing the sharp metal. Though, where blood should’ve gathered in a small drop, the skin immediately seals over the puncture, as if nothing ever happened.

You wipe your face, aching weeps turning into a deep frown.

People I trust (cont.):

My parents…?

You recognize the footsteps of your mother approaching the doorway. “Sweetheart, are you okay? What was that noise?”

Staring at your palm, you offer a bitter response. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

“...Are you sure?” She’s quiet, just as cautious as her footsteps as she inches towards you.

“Sure. It healed up in a second, anyway. You know how better than I do,” you snip, whipping your head up to glare at your own image reflected back at you. Her eyes are much more worn, though, the lines in her face creasing as she kneels down to your level.

You don’t want to be mean to her. She’s your mother. But why was she keeping things from you?

There's a shameful twist in the corner of her mouth. Tentatively, her hand reaches out for yours, fingers trembling as she waits for you to take them. Even through the bitterness, the confusion—you take it, your cold skin warmed by hers.

“I… I know you aren’t stupid.” She squeezes your hand. “We do know things about… who it was that took you—”

“Then why are you keeping it from me?” Immediately, your voice raises. “It happened to me! I of all people deserve to know why!”

She tilts her head, her expression pained as she looks at you. It’s love and guilt in one confusing mix.

“I know. I know. And I’m not keeping anything from you on purpose.” She sighs, her shoulders sagging and head dropping. “There are… mistakes your dad and I made. We trusted people we shouldn’t have trusted, and—”

She sucks in a sharp breath, her eyes welling up with tears. “Baby, I’m so sorry. There’s things we kept from you because we thought that—maybe… maybe it'd be easier to protect you if you were in the dark, but…” She closes her eyes, swallowing. “We realize now that was a mistake.”

“...Then why won’t you tell me?” you whisper, your own voice trembling. “And why are other people involved? The Ro’meaves, Sylvanna, Katelyn’s dad—Travis’s dad? The Lycans? Mom, I’m so—I just—I'm so confused—”

“I know it’s frustrating, sweetie. And I don’t blame you for being upset with me. You have the right to be.” She nods, opening her eyes again and squeezing your hand again. “Right now we’re all planning to tell you and… their kids together. In a meeting. We're just trying to figure out the best time to do it. I promise you. We’re going to tell you.”

Your heart drops as the suspicions that have been haunting you for the past few weeks are confirmed, outweighing the relief in the fact that you would be brought to light in everything else. The words that leave your mouth next are panicked and rushed. “Why do they need to tell them, too? Are they targets?”

Her free hand reaches out, clasping onto your shoulder in an attempt to steady the spiraling of your mind—of the possibilities that were already forming into nightmares. “No, no, everything is okay now.”

It was getting hard to breathe. Your lungs strain to get in a full breath, the muscles tightening like a vice and causing your head to spin. “No, the person who did this is still out there. They’re going to get me again, and then they'll go after them! And then maybe, they—mom, what about you, mom—”

“Shh, no they won’t,  baby.” She swipes at your face. “You and everyone are perfectly safe now. Your dad and I aren’t… to let anything like… to… or any of—”

No. No, no, no.

Her voice is—it's gone, overpowered by a terrible ringing in your ears.

There’s the metallic clang of a door shutting to your right, and suddenly the room is dark. The bitter taste of blood stings your tongue, and long, shadowed fingers creep along your shoulders. Ready to dig in and rip apart your flesh. It’s going to get you. It’s going to get you. You never left. You never—

“Look at me…” The owner of the gnarled hands taunts you, in a voice so menacing and deep that you find yourself curling down into a ball, trembling and begging for it to stop, for it to spare you from its malicious intent.

“Look…”

It calls your father’s name.

“Help her!”

Strong, warm hands tug you up by the arms, wrenching you from the dingy stone floor and onto your feet. When the soles of your feet settle flat beneath you again, they’re greeted by the rug in your room instead, the material warmed from the sun shining through your window. The hands that hold you now are lifting you up, sturdy and protective—no claws. No claws..

“Sweetheart. Sweetheart, look at me.”

Your father’s eyes stare down at you, full of indescribable pain as his eyebrows furrow, creasing his forehead. Your mother is behind him, though her face is turned from you as her shoulders tremble.

Oh.

Your heart still pounds, blood swirling through your veins much too fast; fingers prickling at the tips, lips numb.

“I–I’m sorry.” A lump sits at the base of your throat, choking your next words. "I'm so sorry, I—I'm sorry, I don't know—"

“Don’t.” His voice is strained. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

He pulls you into his arms, cradling your head to his chest, where it shudders with a shaky breath. You close your eyes, trying to ignore the lingering panic trying to trick you—trying to convince you that you were still clawing at bars to escape your surely lethal fate. That you were still there, with all the stone and grime and—and blood. No, you were in Dad’s arms. He wouldn’t let that happen, would he?

What was it that Dr. McCoy told you?

“...it can be very disorienting when you get intense flashbacks. But when it feels like you can’t get out of that memory, I want you to use the 5-4-3-2-1 technique. Do you know what that is?...”

You see… the color of your room’s walls. The pile of letters you’d received at the hospital lying on your bedside table. The sun glinting off the medal you won at the Athletic Fair. The fuzzy pink blanket from Nana, hanging off the side of your bed. Your mom coming to stand beside you, wiping her face as she joins your dad in embracing you. 

You can feel Dad’s arms. Mom’s. The light breeze through the cracked window brushing against your skin. The soft rug under your feet.

You can hear the cars, when they occasionally pass over the street below. Your parent’s synced, yet shaky breaths. Dad’s calming heartbeat against your ear.

You can smell your mother’s perfume. The lingering scent of the candle she’d burned somewhere in the house.

You can taste the leftover saltiness of the tears that had landed on your lips.

“We want to wait until it’s a good time to tell you,” your mom whispers, her fingers squeezing against your shoulder. “Because we don’t want you to hurt anymore. I’m sorry, baby. I know it’s hard, but please trust that we’re doing everything we can for your safety. Not just your physical safety, either, but your mental wellbeing, too.”

…You know.

Of course you do.

…They’re confused and scared too, aren’t they?

When they held you as a small child in their arms, did they ever think the sweet laughter and innocent twinkle in your eyes would slip from their fingertips in this way? They never imagined the baby they once rocked to sleep would grow up to be someone they didn’t recognize, someone broken and distant, trapped in a world of pain they couldn’t reach. You were gone, scared you’d never make it out—but they were scared too. They’re trying to cope as well, aren’t they?

People I trust (cont.):

My parents.

☆

You stare at the dark screen of your new phone, fidgeting with your hair and trying to recognize the face staring  back at you. With a held breath, you lift your chin, fingers brushing along the scar that swept across your neck. It was so straight and smooth, the indent lacking any evidence that whatever caused it was violent. Though, when the pad of your thumb trembles over the healed wound, it fills you with a sense of dread; like this is the defining line between the girl you once were and the unrecognizable one you were now.

“What are you thinking about, sweetheart?” Dad asks, interrupting the silence that had strung out over the car. You glance up at him through the rearview mirror as he mindlessly taps his fingers against the steering wheel. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. You can still back out.”

“No, I do,” you murmur, turning to look out at the wealthy neighborhood around you.

You're only a minute from the Ro’meaves’ house, now. Your lips press together as you steady your breaths, the long driveway leading up to the tall brick colonial home—a familiar sight. Several cars already fill the driveway, and though you recognize them as belonging to the very people you had begged to see, the fact there are so many of them is daunting.

All of their eyes, their expectations—everything would be trained directly on you. Will they hesitate when they realize how much you’d changed? Will the month of separation feel more like a year? Will you still fit in their puzzle, now that your edges were jagged? Will they still try to make you belong, even if your image is awkward beside theirs?

Truthfully, you couldn’t tell if the tightness in your chest is excitement or anxiousness. The two could be interchangeable, after all. But as you wipe the sweat from your hands on the fabric of your clothes and the car comes to a stop, there’s nothing you want to do more than jump out and run inside.

Everyone seems to be inside, but then you notice a familiar boy jump up from where he'd been waiting on the front porch steps, his light brown hair bouncing as he sprints to your car. Before your parents even have a chance to get out themselves, PDH’s soccer captain himself is flinging open the car door, eyes wide and hopeful as he looks you over. 

“There she is!” He leans forward with a wide grin, arms spreading for a hug. From how his fingers are twitching, he looks like he wants to lunge on you without a question—yet he holds himself back, waiting for your reaction.

“Laurance!” you cheer through the surprise of his swift greeting, unbuckling your seatbelt and turning into him—a sign he takes in full stride as he pulls you into him.

He makes a happy noise as his arms squeeze around you and he pulls you out of the car, your feet leaving the ground when he spins around. You can practically feel the joy he radiates, the warmth of it seeping into your skin and rushing into your lungs, forcing an eruption of giggles from your mouth. The sound is… odd. Not because it wasn’t right, or it sounded weird, but because you forgot what it felt like to feel this giddy—to have someone be this elated to see you. How could you forget?

“Wasn’t everyone supposed to wait inside?” Mom chimes in lightheartedly as Laurance sets you down, tucking you under his shoulder.

“Well, yeah…” he chuckles sheepishly. “I made an excuse that I was taking a phone call so I could be the first one to see her.”

“Oh, how sweet,” she coos, eyes darting to meet yours slyly as she walks towards the front door.

Your dad hasn’t said anything, but as he passes you to follow Mom, he gives Laurance’s shoulder a rather intimidating clap, patting him a few times with a serious look before moving on. The boy smiles nervously in return, before guiding you both after them, squeezing your shoulder as you go.

“Are you doing okay?” you blurt. 

He smiles down at you, an amused huff leaving his lips.

“Today? I’m way more than okay,” he reaches up to poke your cheek. “Thanks to you.”

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and basking in the moment, before you step up the stairs. The cheerful chirping of the birds, the smell of freshly mowed lawns, the distant sound of your friends laughing and talking in the house; you really were here. You were safe. And now you can actually imagine it: being… normal again. Soon enough you’ll be surrounded by their warm laughter, able to join in on all the inside jokes and cuddle up by everyone’s side. This is real. This isn't a distant dream—it isn't just a sliver of hope to cling to as you curl up on the dirty floor.

You see your parents walk in first, the muffled voices beyond the door loudening as they slip through, leaving you and Laurance alone for just a moment.

“I was there everyday when you were asleep, y’know? Well, except for the day when you actually woke up,” he says suddenly—you think that somehow, he'd sensed your need to prepare yourself. “I was pretty upset when I found out the cyclops got to see you before I did.”

You offer a quiet laugh. “Still refusing to let up on that nickname, huh?”

“Of course. The little twerp deserves it.”

Laurance guides you the last few stairs up, making the distance between you and nearly everyone you hold dear only a polished door away. You hold your breath, chest feeling tight again as he reaches out to close that distance, his hand clasping the metal.

Before he turns the knob though, he pauses, peeking at you from the corner of his eye.

“You look nervous,” he whispers, nudging you with his elbow, “and a little teary-eyed. You okay?”

“I just…” You take in another, shaky breath, licking your lips. “I’m so different now. And not just in how I act, but I also… look different.”

He smiles warmly, reaching up to pinch a lock of your hair between his fingers. “I don't know, you look as cute as ever to me—the pixie cut suits you. And you sure as hell seem like the same girl I’ve been getting to know for the past year.” He leans in closer. “I promise no one is going to think differently of you or act weird because of it. If they do, I’ll beat their ass for you. Understand?”

You try to roll out some of the tension in your shoulders, sending him a grateful look. “Thank you, Laurance.”

“No need to thank me.” He straightens, patting your head before finally letting you go from under his arm. “Ready?”

“...Yeah.”

The door pushes open, and Laurance takes the liberty to step forward first, holding the door open for you. The first thing that hits you is Dante's unfaltering, boisterous laughter, even as Nicole and a few other girls yell at him to your right—likely about whatever dumb joke he made. The next thing that hits you is the sophisticated scent of jasmine and amber that permeates throughout the house, thanks to Zianna’s investments in luxurious candles. The smell's welcoming, familiar, reminding you of a time in your childhood you can't quite remember.

You step forward, glancing over to the doorway to see Garroth leaning against it, arms crossed as he watches the group of rambunctious teenagers in his living room. Even as your hands shake and your breath trembles, you don’t hesitate to stride forward, placing a gentle hand on his arm as you step by his side. His head is quick to whip towards you, his amusement with the scene ahead of him replaced by a tender look in his eyes and a quiet, fond call of your name.

As he wraps his arm around your shoulder, you look ahead, feeling the corners of your lips curve up and the heavy pit in your chest lightening. Katelyn has Dante in a playful headlock, rubbing her knuckles into his skull as he thrashes and tries to escape. All of the girls—Lucinda, Teony, Nana, Nicole, Cadenza, and Aphmau—cheer her on, declaring her as their knight in shining armor and giggling at his pain as they lounge on the couch. Vylad and Travis were laughing along too, seeming to agree this punishment fit for whatever the mischievous boy had blubbered stupidly from his lips.

Travis was sitting on the floor, cackling with his hand over his mouth. He looks… a little different from what you remember, hair trimmed to flatter his face more and skin clearer. His eyes shift slowly to your direction when he sees you from the corner of his vision, the bright green somehow lighting up even more, his eyebrows shooting up on his forehead. His hand comes away from his mouth as he points directly at you with a wide smile.

Oh! His braces are gone. Did that happen before or after you saw him in the hospital…?

“She’s arrived!” he announces theatrically, pulling everyone’s attention to you.

At first you flinch, almost pierced by how they lean forward and stare at you with wide eyes. Even though alarm bells set off in your head, and the urge to turn and hide in some corner is powerful, so is the bittersweet tenderness and care you force yourself to see in each and every one of their faces. Shouts and cheers of your name replace the previous bickering.

They’re all on the list. You know them. You trust them.

It feels like a bright light has been shined against you—and not a spotlight highlighting your new flaws or your hesitations, but a beacon chasing  the heavy weight from your shoulders; permeating your soul, warm and loving. It's so real, so genuine, that the light burned away at your fears and replaced it with hope.

They love you.

Laurance—who was still behind you and Garroth—ruffles your hair with his hand before nudging you towards them. Your footsteps stumbling forward is what breaks the unspoken barrier, encouraging Nana to leap up from the couch and rush over to you. Everyone freezes when she practically jumps on top of you without a second thought, breaths held as you yelp from the sudden weight.

You lower your head onto her shoulder when she nuzzles her face into yours, raising your arms to hold her back. Her voice comes through cotton in your ears, the pleasant melody harmonized by everyone else's as they join in, arms overlapping and warm breaths mingling, heating up your cold skin; praise and greetings fizzling out into a peaceful embrace. This group hug is lasting much longer than usual, but you won't be the first to pull away.

“Sooo… are you gonna come back to school?” Dante suddenly cuts through; he's answered by a chorus of groans.

“Dude, can you not talk for, like, five seconds?” Nicole hisses.

You feel him shift to your right when he laughs defensively. “What? I’m just wondering!”

Nicole pauses her beration of him when you start to laugh, shoulders shaking. You missed this.

After the group's settled into a comfortable silence, you say, “Actually, I think I might,” earning a few shocked gasps.

“Wait, for real?” Nana squeals, jumping up in her excitement and nearly toppling everyone over into a huge doggy pile.

“Y-yeah,” you say through stuttered laughter, focus quickly shifting from the conversation to staying on your feet as the whole group shuffles around.

“Are we gonna keep talking like this or can we sit down and give her some space like normal people?” Cadenza interjects, grunting under her breath. You look up to see Laurance ruffle her hair, the boy laughing when she sends him a deadpan look.

“In what world have we ever been normal?” he snorts. “But she’s right. C’mon guys.”

Soon you find yourself settled on the couch, squished in between Teony and Lucinda while Aphmau and Travis cling to your legs. Everyone else is sitting on the coffee table or on the couch as they lean in, latching onto every word you say.

“When will you be back?” Teony continues the conversation, fingers gently rubbing circles into your back as she tilts her head. Everyone else nods along, intent on knowing the answer.

“Probably in a couple weeks, maybe two from now,” you murmur, biting the inside of your cheek. The attention was getting to be just a little overwhelming, so you shift it back to them. “...What’s school been like this year?”

Everyone glances at the other, trying to gauge who should go first.

“Well, volleyball season just started—we still haven’t had our first game yet, though.” Kate makes a point to make eye contact with you as she adds, “We still have an open spot on the team, by the way… just saying…”

“Can you not talk about that sport for one second?” Lucinda teases, reaching over to pinch Katelyn's side and dodging a slap to her shoulder with a giggle.

“I’m just suggesting it. In case she wants to find things to do when she comes back,” Kate huffs, looking back to you. “Even if you don’t want to play, being a manager could be fun, too.”

“Hey! I was gonna ask her to be our manager,” Laurance argues, crossing his arms and sending her a dirty look, earning himself a fierce glare in return.

“Nuh-uh, she’s definitely gonna be the baseball manager,” Garroth chimes in, his hand covering Laurance’s face and pointing at himself insistently. 

“Okay, you sports nerds.” Teony rolls her eyes. “She can decide that later. Why don’t we update her on other things?”

“How about the entire werewolf population in the school now looking to Aphmau as the Alpha,” Vylad says, waggling his brows and nudging the girl’s shoulder. Her cheeks warm, and she sighs under her breath.

“Oh yeah. That’s a whole thing I’m glad I’m on the outskirts of.” Katelyn leans back on her hands, shaking her head. “I don’t even wanna know about that Ein dude that keeps clinging to her everywhere she goes. Just seeing his face pisses me off.”

“...Who is Ein?” you start, not quite sure how to unpack this as you glance down at Aphmau. “What about Aaron?”

Her face drops and she wrings her hands. “...Um, he’s not going to school here anymore. His parents made him graduate early and go to a private college. That’s what he told me before he stopped talking to me, at least.”

You frown, recalling the conversation you’d overheard in the hospital—what the Lycans had said.

“…And just what are we supposed to do about this? We can’t send our son back to that school. What if he’s taken by those psychos, too? That girl is lucky she made it back in one piece!”

“Aaron won’t be staying anywhere near that high school or your kids.”

Derek, was his name? Was he really serious? Would he really do that to their son? Even force him to stop talking to Aphmau, who was basically his girlfriend?

You stay quiet for a moment, reaching to pat her head to soothe the saddened expression that had started to form on her face. “I’m sorry.”

It’s your fault, isn’t it?

“…It’s okay.” She shakes her head, smiling. “It’s a little stressful leading a bunch of kids, but it’s kind of fun! And it gives me more experience as a mentor, I guess.”

“Following in my footsteps,” Teony coos, placing a hand over her chest.

You glance over at Laurance, lips wobbling. “…Baby’s first leadership role?”

His face lights up in recognition; he snickers. “She’s growing up so fast…”

“What? Ugh, this again!” She kicks out her feet childishly, looking back up at you with reddened cheeks. “Anyways! About Ein!”

You raise your eyebrow in amusement at her not-so-subtle change in topics.

“Why do you wanna talk about Ein so bad? Interested?” Dante butts in before she can continue. She groans, taking her jacket from her lap and chucking it towards him—she misses by a good foot.

“Shut up!” she huffs. “No way!”

“You better not,” Katelyn says, tone protective. “That guy has a bad rep, probably for good reason.”

You frown, glancing back down at Aphmau.

“He’s actually really nice once you get to know him,” she’s quick to defend. “You guys shouldn’t believe all the rumors you hear about him…”

“Speaking of rumors, there’s already a few circling around. I've heard some about Laurance and Garroth having girlfriends.” Lucinda quirks a brow, looking the boys up and down with pursed lips. “Seems the fan clubs are only getting more intense this year, hm?”

The two boys make similar faces, lips curling in discomfort and eyebrows pinching.

“Uh, let’s not…” Laurance mutters, scratching the back of his neck.

“Ahem! Sorry to interrupt, kiddos, but I’d like to steal the sweet girl away for just a second!” Zianna announces from the doorway, waving at you with a smile. “Do you mind?”

“Oh, of course not…” You rise up, untangling yourself from limbs and stepping around everyone's pouting faces.

“Be right back, yo!” Zianna cheers to the teens, placing a hand on your back as she leads you towards the garage.

“Mom…” Vylad and Garroth sync their groans of embarrassment, earning an amused laugh from her before the two of you step through the door.

Parked inside is a new Toyota Highlander, the pretty grey-blue paint looking freshly polished and shining under the overhead light. Huh, Zianna must’ve wanted a new car. Her SUV must’ve been parked outside and you didn’t notice.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” She reaches into her pocket, turning to face you. “Are you happy to be here with everyone?”

What exactly did she call you in here for…?

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m happy.” You rub your arm. “I’m happy to see you again, too, Zianna.”

She tilts her head, smiling softly. She seems emotional at your words, and you're suddenly reminded of how Garroth once described her as a delicate flower. You can definitely see it now, as her eyebrows turn up.

“There’s a reason I always call you 'sweetie',” she sighs, pulling something from her pocket and stretching it out towards you. “I wanted to give this back to you.”

The locket.

It glints in the garage lighting as her fingers tremble subtly, the surface slightly scratched. Despite this, though, it looks as freshly polished as the car next to you, like she'd made sure to take great care of it. When you close your eyes, the dark street of that night and the harsh slap that knocked you down and sent the locket flying replays for a split moment.

“It didn’t quite have the use I intended it to, but it’s yours. So if you want it, you can keep it…”

You breathe deeply, ignoring the shuddering of your lungs when you do so, open your eyes, and take the necklace into your hands.

“Thank you,” you murmur, glancing back up at her.

With her eyes a little more watery than before, she’s quick to turn her head, gesturing to the Toyota as she clears her throat. “How do you like this new car?”

When you turn to take in the vehicle again, you don't miss how she brings a hand up to swipe underneath her eyes.

“It’s really nice.” You nod. “It was the first thing I noticed when we walked in here.”

“Well, good,” she smiles, reaching in her other pocket and pulling out a set of keys. “Because there’s something else I want to give you.”

Your brow furrows when she holds her hand out again, dangling the set of keys in front of you to take. She tilts her head for you to take them, but you’re frozen, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“...What?” you breathe.

“After everything that happened, I was talking to your parents and they mentioned how you shouldn’t walk alone anywhere anymore,” she explains, shaking the keys gently. “And while my boys and I are perfectly fine with being your chauffeurs, Garte and I decided you should have a car of your own, in case a friend can’t be there.”

You close your mouth—it’s your turn to tear up now. “I… Zianna, I really can’t accept this. This is too much…”

“It’s not too much,” she insists. “I won’t give this car to my boys, so if you don’t take it, it will keep sitting in this garage until it doesn’t work anymore, so I’d suggest you do.”

There’s no words to even begin with as you take the keys, blinking rapidly and shaking your head. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything, dear.” She pulls you into a gentle hug, petting your head in a motherly display. “Just guaranteeing your safety is enough  for me.”

You hug her back, sniffling as you stare at the car. Sure, you might be able to accept a few flowers and teddy bears, but this? The Ro’meaves may not be running out of money anytime soon, but this is still an insane gift for someone that wasn’t even their own kid.

“Also,” she continues, “I won’t pressure you to join in if you don't want to, but I’m making my boys take some self defense classes, and I think it would be great if you attended as well.” She sways a little, rocking you with her before letting go. “I believe Aphmau, Travis, and Katelyn are going to do it as well. You don’t have to answer now, but it’s something to consider.”

“I will,” you murmur, too overwhelmed to consider it at the moment—even if it was a good idea.

“Oh, and one last thing before I let you go, sweetheart,” she says, quickly dashing over to the passenger side of the… of your car, reaching in and pulling out a small bag. She giggles when she turns around and catches your wide-eyed expression. “I promise it’s nothing big.”

You press your lips together, accepting the bag quietly and looking inside. Inside are two things: pepper spray and a…

“A taser?”

“Stun gun. Thirty-thousand volts!” she chirps, much too cheerful for someone who'd just casually gifted you two highly pain-inducing weapons.

“Uh… Thank—thank you.”

“Again, sweetie, not anything big.” She waves her hand dismissively, taking the bag from you and placing it back in the car. She gestures back to the door, smiling. “I shouldn’t keep you for any longer. Your friends are waiting for you!”

You nod slowly, following her back out. As soon as you enter, everyone is quick to pull you back right into the center of the group, the conversation flowing once again about the silly, mundane things of teenage life. As the minutes ticked into hours, not once did you find yourself bored, the calming voices almost surreal to listen to as you sink into the couch cushions.

How easy was it, to take all of this for granted? A few weeks ago, you were sure moments like these were distant dreams, ones you’d never get to experience again. Such simple moments; the way Lucinda overdramatized her stories, or how Katelyn and Nicole would lean close to threaten someone playfully. How Vylad smiled wide at anyone he made eye contact with as he looked around the group, or how Nana would squeal anytime anything cute or romantic came up. How Aphmau giggled at every corny joke. When Cadenza dramatically sighed or tossed her hair. How Laurance always made sure someone got their word in when they were interrupted, and how horrible Garroth is at controlling his expressions when someone is telling a story. 

There’s a quiet understanding in your chest. You'd thought the edges of your puzzle piece were too jagged, but they aren’t. You slid right back into place. Even if the paint was a little chipped, a little smudged, you fit. Despite everything, you're still you. Everything is falling back into rhythm.

You almost died at seventeen. But you didn’t. This is reality now. You’re alive, and real. Being safe is real. Being protected is real. Being surrounded by the people you love—that's real. This is… normal. What you’ve always wanted since the beginning.

You could be normal again.

…Right?

©starhvney 2024. do not plagiarize, feed to any AI, or repost my works to any sites.

tag list: @orinlin @pain-in-the-ashe @youmake1mistake @arienic @wasting-away-on-the-internet @angelhyperfixates @remiechu @valentique @kalegrinch @izzybella1807 @marst4rz @vyladsgirl @rune-balot83

[remikuii]

I'm not sure if I can request, happy new year btw! I hope your new year goes so well, wishing you happiness.

About my request, if you are okay with it ofc I would like to request Reader who is really similar to Fyodor (Like smart, lonely and quiet most of the time etc) x Fyodor. I really wonder how Fyodor would act towards her! (You don't have to do this :), you can just share your ideas too if you don't feel like making this!!)

15 hours, 25 minutes, and 45 seconds

( ᪥ ) : i’m back y’all, i’m gone for days since i’ve been busy with studies lately. soo, another request !! i can’t mention you so i’ll reply to this one :>

characters : fyodor dostoevsky x reader

synopsis : oh, to be one of fyodor's enemies, he definitely cares about the written threats he will send you. well, fyodor's busy with writing something for his beloved enemy—Dazai, that he even threw multiple drafts to perfect his 'kanji". It goes on for exactly 15 hours, 25 minutes, and 45 seconds while not giving you anything even a spare glance. Jealous for a certain piece of paper tainted with ink, you decided to challenge him on a one-on-one chess match.

warnings : nope because i said no HAHA

Looking around the lounge, you spotted the usual workaholic short raven hair, busy nipping on his fingers—must be having a hard time writing in kanji. You took the opportunity to invite him for a friendly chess match with you, which he couldn't easily decline.

"Please do enlighten me to why I should play chess with you, myshka." Fyodor simply took his eyes off the screen and ran his calloused yet delicate fingers on your cheeks.

Living with Fyodor, two years later after the orphanage incident, is filled with intellectual arguments. Not the actual fights like shouting, harming—but rather, a battle of minds. You considered the tragedy in the orphanage as a blessing in disguise. If that didn't happen, maybe you're still being shout at by one of your so-called 'masters'.

"First of all, you're doing that usual habit of yours which sometimes bothered me, it's almost bleeding! Second, I would like to know if I am really not clever enough just like what you told me two years ago."

Putting up the pieces, Fyodor watched your hands, swiftly gliding through the pieces. He smiled in defeat, he knows to himself that he couldn't win against your lovely invitation.

"Chess, like life, demands sacrifice."

"But not all sacrifices lead to victory...Fyodor, dear." You shrugged, moving a knight to challenge Fyodor's position.

"In literature and chess, foresight is the key," He remarked, sacrificing a bishop to open an attacking path.

"Yet, in every move, there lies a story..."

In the endgame, Fyodor, with a cunning smile moved the piece and turned his attention back to you.

"Checkmate, where every move is a sentence in the narrative of defeat."

You sighed in defeat, letting Fyodor's pride to enlarge. You never won, but you can buy some time—you're not running out of ideas to throw against him, which surprisingly, amazed Fyodor.

He caressed your cheeks with his cold pale hands. His calloused hands itches your skin but you don't mind.

"You're still not clever enough, myshka..But I think, that's enough to entertain me." Fyodor stood up and placed a kiss on your forehead while softly caressing your hair. He tried to move away after the kiss but you pulled him soon after.

"Letting yourself stress over writing kanji merely for that bandaged man and not even sparing me an hour? You've spent a total of 15 hours, 25 minutes, and 45 seconds only for that letter..." You huffed and pulled out a book out of his random piles.

"Nietzsche's 'Beyond Good and Evil'...Hm, interesting choice you have there...Please do enlighten me about this book, Mister Dostoevsky." Fyodor's sharp and alluring gaze pierced your soul in somehow—a good way.

"Take my hand then, my love. I truly grieved for that 15 hours, 25 minutes, and 45 seconds I spent not to you."

"But to my next 15 hours, 25 minutes, and 45 seconds, I shall please my queen with these hands which I used to writing kanji and maybe, explore each and every part of her."

and yeahh, it took me a month to finish this one. damn school works :< but dw, it's hereee. i'm actually planning to post scaramouche x reader huhu

[carnalhaus]

descent into the long bright dark

i’ve been thinking about this short story “long bright dark” a lot as i’ve been writing it, and i wanted to make a visual example of what my creative process tends to look like when i write and come up with stories. i tend to be inspired by off-chance one-off lines and objects, and i file them away for later. they themselves don’t always form the actual narrative, but they remain an overarching force behind the ideas and dialogue in the piece. like the things that poke me from the back of my head while i scrawl the whole thing. i’ve been trying to be more open about how i conceptualize things when i write. i’m very autistic and things tend to come to me very abstractly, so i have a bit of trouble answering when people ask me what my inspirations are, or how i come up with things.

if you’re not already familiar, “long bright dark” is a short story draft about praline meeting two of sledge’s tentative friends one night in indiana, 2001. they’re jude, a biker who doesn’t move his face much, and lucky, another fight club attendee with a piano key smile. the short story itself is really just one part of the whole story with them, but i don’t know if i’ll ever write out the rest. it has a lot to do with how praline forms uncertain bonds with others, and how people try to make sense of her.

while coming up with this one, i found the word “girl” appearing in the back of my mind a lot, like big and bold. silly girl. crazy girl. something very affectionate and juvenile, either flirtatious jabs or infantilizing endearment, you can’t really tell which. couple that with terms like honey and bunny, words that don’t actually appear much in the actual dialogue, if at all, but you know some people might be thinking it. i thought a lot about heroin but not explicitly, moreso the afterthought where you think it might just be a trace, pass it off for exhaustion. i thought about it because of the feeling of slipping away, and what “slipping away” means in multiple parts of this narrative. slipping from consciousness, and things slipping from your hands, being too out of your mind to wrench them back (literally and figuratively).

there’s a lot of ideas about “seeing them all lined up.” the horror of seeing so many people in one person’s face. trying to assign a role to them, particularly when it comes to women. on the contrary, being open and exposed in front of male strangers with your belly open for a knife, and having to wholly trust they won’t do it. i had a lot of feelings about quickness and vulgarity and rapid attachments that leave rug burn. i kept getting this nagging immersive feeling of being so excited my heart felt like it was about to burst, and my eyes getting hot from excited tears. there was also the ever present stomach churning nausea of the situation feeling so precarious it’s about to teeter off the edge.

[diodellet]

try wishing for it: magical girl au ~author's note~

warning for: Puella Magi Madoka Magica spoilers and more yandere headcanoning

Read the fanfic first before you spoil yourself on my rambling 😇

I did not expect to be able to transition from draft to posting that quickly for a fic of this length (or maybe it just felt faster because the stars aligned for my motivation and brainworms to work together? who knows)

Will I ever continue this AU? Maybe if I get clubbed in the head by more Scarabia brainworms, I might write oneshots/short scenes, but I don’t see myself writing for any of the other twst charas.

Anyways onto the ramblings galore:

Inspirations:

The verse that the fic’s title is ripped from goes: “Saying, ‘it’s like magic!’ / immersed in this sensation, even if I try wishing for it, / I know it’s nothing but playing with dolls //” (tl credits to Releska).

Tbh, analyzing poetry/song lyrics isn’t my biggest strength, but I know that Mahou Shoujo, as a genre, tends to touch on themes of adolescence like innocence vs. jadedness in the face of the real world and its many issues, just stepping into and growing out of adolescence as one of those uncomfortable transitions in life.

Stepping into young adulthood is scary, and most people my age don’t even know what the hell they’re doing. So for Reader, I gave them that highschooler-trying-to-be-capable-and-mature persona, with a tinge of anxieties that a young person would have.

*I’ll elaborate more on the Puella Magi inspirations in a later section, but yes, that was also a major inspiration for this fic

Vagueness:

Compared to my usual long-winded writing style, this fic ended up a bit more short and ambiugous in its prose. Partially because I didn’t want to procrastinate on writing this by rewatching my favorite Mahou Shoujo franchises.

(but also mainly because partial aphantasia lets gooo, detailed visuals are not my strong suit, I’m leaving Reader’s outfit and weapon blank for people to insert anything they’d like)

I mainly wanted to emphasize the character moments between Reader and Kyubey!Scarabia, which ended up becoming more conflicting and interesting than I initially drafted.

(It helps that Jamil is a shady guy, he set up the foreshadowing on his own. Kalim on the other hand, my god, maybe it's just me but I had a harder time characterizing. Why is he so loud and friendly, it makes his manipulation so much more covert grr)

Gold (and Red, I guess):

I lied, there was one visual aspect I wanted to highlight throughout the story, which were Scarabia’s trademark colors of gold and red. Anything gold mentioned in the fic is traced back to them. So every moment of Kalim and Jamil using magic, Reader’s magic, the bangle that Jamil gifts them, the wraith in the beginning having a (formerly) gold collar. (I would've added a description of something gold on each wraith, but I didn't want to be too heavy-handed with the repetition.)

(yes i had thoughts of jamil just giving them a golden collar…but ooo…held off on that instead, it could be a standalone what-if scenario…a corruption arc premise…ooo…someone remind me about this, i might forget)

I also mention jamil++the color red in this fic because I had to put Snake Whisper in, I can’t not 🙈

(that bit of kalim’s healing magic was me trying to make a reference to Oasis Maker, it feels a bit scuffed to me, but i don't think he’d ever get the urge to drown the world. truly sunshine boy's such a covert yandere it almost made me tear my hair out)

Kyubey!Scarabia, Some Difficulties and Omissions:

In Puella Magi, the little satanspawn named Kyubey is actually short for “Incubator,” who hails from an alien civilization tasked with preventing the heat death of the universe. Turns out the emotions of teenage girls is a very potent energy source. So he turns girls into magical girls to fight Witches and when those magical girls succumb to despair, they become the very thing that they fight against, producing vast amounts of energy for them to use.

(Though I changed it from ‘Witches’ to ‘Wraiths’ for this fanfic. I also did away with the Witches’ Labyrinth to lessen the amount of exposition. I jus think Witches work better in a visual medium.)

Another standout characteristic of Kyubey is his eerie sense of apathy to the characters’ suffering, which was Difficult to incorporate into Kalim since that guy’s got buckets of empathy. Until I realized that i could spin this into a kind of “warped” love.

Kalim loved each and every magical girl that he’s worked with, and of course he gets sad that they eventually become a wraith. But as an Incubator, his grieving is more akin to a rich person feeling sad over the death of a pet. He’s very quick to turn his attention to the next shiny thing (that’s you/Reader! Ain’t that great!🥴)

Also @jessamine-rose gave me this hc of Kalim amassing little trinkets from every magical fighter, like a ribbon accessory or a piece of their wand, collecting these little charms. Just, the idea of him saying that he’ll cherish Reader’s own treasure, and the way that could go from reassuring to chilling. (now i’m spreading that hc to yall instead of pingponging it in my brain😇)

On the idea of Jamil and love, I think he just loves holding power over magical girls #MegalomaniacThingz (ignore that growing fondness in the fever scene, he was just playing the part of helpful familiar or sumn /shrug)

There's definitely room for some kind of intense fascination to reader, knowing that they surprised him with their resilience. Yeah sorta like Tokyo Mew Mew's Ichigo and Quiche...

(i was crying so hard at having to axe forehead kissies for the second time, but it was a necessary omission😔)

Misc. Extras:

As a palate cleanser, just imagine plush ball!jamil carrying a plastic bag twice his size… (i was struggling with the dialogue during that fever scene, this was how i kept myself from spiraling too far)

In line with the genie of the lamp story, Kyubey!Scarabia gets the three wishes for their magical girls, with the third wish eventually corrupting the magical girl into a wraith.

I guess the other dorms would have something unique for the magical girls that they create? (not having wi-fi for the past few days gave me some half-baked ideas)

Like Heartslabyul imposing a rigid set of rules on their magical girls, which are of course rigged against the inherently flawed nature of humans and their emotions.

Savanaclaw and Pomefiore are similar, you fight until you can’t. Or in Pome’s case, you fight until you become an unrecognizable monster.

I imagine that Octavinelle and Ignihyde are the most similar to the original Kyubey of Puella Magi. You make a wish, fight the wraiths, reap the consequences of a wish, and eventually succumb to the vicious system they have laid out. Only Octavinelle’s version is Sayaka Miki-core, while Ignihyde’s plays out like a video game-ified version of Hercules’ trials. (Also, Ignihyde deffo keeps a compendium of each magical girl and wraith).

For Diasomnia, it could kinda follow Sleeping Beauty's plot, where there's a curse that the magical girl has to work against, while being aided with blessings from the fairies/Malleus' retinue (tho in this case, i guess Malleus ends up being revealed as the one creating the wraiths?)

tl;dr: This fic was so fun to write, I can almost forgive the usual agonies that plague me. I'm a writer who heavily prefers soft worldbuilding. Scarabia makes me so ill.

tagging: @viperwhispered @twstgo

[uceyliyahh]

SOMETHING BOUT’ US

Summary: "I want you more than anything in my life." After being in a difficult relationship with Carmelo Yasmine decided to move on from him and become the next big thing while getting drafted on the smackdown roster she always thought she would never find love again due to her commitment issues until she met him.

This fanfic is 18+! NO MINORS ALLOWED

word count: 4605

smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.

Jey Uso x Yasmine

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic

@hunnidmilly @celesteheartsjey @charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @justazzi

6.

JEY I was in the garage at home doing my workouts for this upcoming PPV that is happening this weekend. Jon and I got a tag team title defense against the New Day during that time, so I had to be prepared for it.

I hope Yasmine will be able to debut around this weekend during the PPV because I heard that someone would be making their long-awaited debut for a title-shot match against Liv Morgan.

As I was doing my bench press reps, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket, which made me put a pause on my workout. I grabbed it from my pocket,  seeing that Yasmine had texted me.

Yasmine🩵 sent 2+ messages and two attachments IMESSAGE 💬 Yasmine🩵: bestie butt I miss you Yasmine🩵: it's sooo boring without you here hopefully I get to see you at work. Yasmine🩵:

'I felt myself getting hard at these pictures she just sent me damn she looked so fucking cute.'

Joshua🤍: Yasmine you're really testing it right now. Yasmine🩵: whaaaaaat? All I did was send some pictures 🙄 Joshua🤍: yeah, they're cute but that's not the problem minks. Yasmine🩵: then what's the problem? 🤨 Joshua🤍: Yasmine stop playin dumb with me Yasmine🩵: these pictures are getting you hard right now? Joshua🤍: bingo I feel like you sent them on purpose Yasmine🩵: maybe....maybe not🙂🤭 Joshua🤍: you wanna keep playin? Yasmine🩵: what? Ion' know what you're talking about Bestie Joshua🤍: A'ight bet since you wanna act dumb and keep playin I got'chu later on Yasmine🩵: wait Josh I was kidding Yasmine🩵: JOSHUA!! 🥲🥲

I chuckled as I left her on read, staring down at my hardened member and then back at her photos. Her images made me want to pound my dick in so badly. After putting away all of my exercise gear and heading upstairs to my bedroom, I lay down on my bed and took down my shorts, watching my dick pop up and land on my stomach as I started to stroke it up and down while daydreaming about her.

MINI SMUT WARNING

While I kept my eyes closed, I was groaning Yasmine's name and imagining how wonderful it would feel to be within her at that moment. I was going crazy thinking about her in this way, especially when I had wet dreams about it. My legs were squeezing together, and I could picture her bouncing up and down on my dick while groaning my name. I could feel my breath becoming unsteady as I continued to stroke my dick up and down.

"Fuck...Yasmine...Fuck.." I moaned softly as I kept stroking it in a steady pace.

I was rolling my eyes in the back of my head yearning for more of her, her touch, her rubbing all up on me. I instantly grabbed my phone and started to record a video of myself stroking my dick up and down so I could send it to her.

I kept stroking the tip feeling myself edging on as I continued to moan her name, I just couldn't wait to be all up in that whenever I get a chance.

"Ouuuu fuck mama..." thinking about beating her shit in while pulling on her hair choking her as I pushed my dick deeply inside of her wanting her to feel every single inch of me.

I clenched my legs some more feeling sweat coming down my cheeks with my face being all flushed. I felt myself shaking as I sped up the pace a little bit more.

My mouth was parted opened as I felt myself getting close to my climax as my dick twitched in my hands.

I kept imagining Yasmine stroking it for me swirling her tongue around my tip before going down on me while my tip was hitting the back of her throat gagging on it.

"Fuck, I'm finna nut fuck.." I moaned.

I chuckled as I let out a satisfying sigh and saw my nut trickling from my hand as I gently stroked the remaining portion out, cursing under my breath after a few more strokes.

MINI SMUT OVER.

I used my available hand to stop the video recording as my chest was heaving up and down. Getting up from the bed, I went towards my bathroom and took a shower.

'Damn that shit felt so good.'

✧˚° YASMINE I was at the performance center today in the ring practicing with Bianca for my debut this weekend at Crown Jewel. Nobody knew but the girls. I was so nervous and happy that I was finally debuting at my first-ever PPV.

I was on top of the turnbuckle doing my finisher move on Bianca, landing on her stomach and hearing her groan in pain at the feeling. That's when I pinned her shoulders down, counting in my head.

I let go of her leg as I felt my face flushed. My chest was heaving up and down, getting up from the ring, and I placed my hands on my hips as Bianca did the same.

"Damn girl you're really good." Bianca said.

"Man I know I believe what Shawn Michael's was saying that I'll be the next star in this company." I said wiping the sweat off of my forehead.

"I see the vision of you being a champion girl and when you do you better give me the opportunity." I nodded my head chuckling at her letting her know that I'll make sure to give her a title shot.

I went to grab my phone as I saw that Jey had sent me a video. When I went to go open it, my eyes went wide as I saw him stroking his dick up and down, hearing him moaning my name.

I made sure to put my AirPods in so I could listen to it more clearly; as I predicted it his dick was big as fuck and now I gotta wait until later to see what the fuck was he talking about earlier when I sent those pictures.

After watching the video, seeing his nut spilling out from the tip and dripping down on his hands, it just made my body feel warm and fuzzy seeing that he's thinking about me.

I turned the phone off, hearing Bianca's footsteps coming behind me. "Are you ready, girl? Let's go see what your gear is looking like." I nodded my head while grabbing our bags and our water.

✧˚° After Bianca and I checked out my ring attire for Crown Jewel, all I can say is that it looked good, like really good. We were at the catering area, seeing Trinity and Jonathan sitting there at our table eating.

We walked up with our plates as they both looked at us and smiled I tried to scan the area to find Jey but he was nowhere to be found so I just shrugged it off.

Trinity and Them didn't know about my debut match for the weekend because it had to be a secret that would surprise everyone, including the crowds.

"Trinity have you seen my bestie?" I asked.

"I think he's in him and Jon's locker room right now I don't know why?" She said while stuffing her face with food.

"I just wanted to know that's all I was hoping to see him today." Trinity nodded her head as we all continued to eat our foods together. Meanwhile, I felt my phone buzz. When I pulled it out, I saw that Jey had texted me.

Joshua🤍 sent a message IMESSAGE 💬 Joshua🤍: come holla at me for a minute when you get done minks.

I was nervous, to say the least. I didn't know what he had planned, and when I went towards his locker room, all I could think about was what he had said earlier before we came into work.

After I finished eating my food, I got up from the table and went towards the trashcan, throwing away my plate in the process, before heading towards his locker room.

Meanwhile, I heard someone behind me calling my name. I could recognize that voice from a mile away. When I turned around, I saw Carmelo standing there with his arms crossed.

"What Melo?" I asked giving him a stern expression.

"What the fuck is goin on between you and Jey? I saw what you posted on your page talking about a favorite person; it better be me." He said sternly as I smacked my teeth because I didn't have time for this shit right now.

"Melo? Can we not be delusional for once, like seriously, you knew who I was referring to." I was beginning to walk away until I felt him grabbing me by the wrist which made me turn around a smack the fuck out of him.

By this point, I was getting sick of him snatching me up like I was some kind of fucking Barbie doll or something. I watched as he staggered back, clutching his cheek in disbelief. Carmelo was stunned when I turned to leave for Jey's locker room when I approached his locker room I knocked on the door like usual waiting for him to open it.

When I heard his footsteps approaching the door, I heard him opening the door, and I saw myself standing there, looking all innocent. I gazed up at him, smiling.

He let me in, closing the door behind us. I wrapped my arms around his neck while he wrapped his around my waist, and we made eye contact.

"I missed you bestie butt." I said.

"I missed you too mamas." Jey said as he gave me a peck on the lips.

Hoping that he would forget what he had said earlier, I unwrapped my arms around his neck before walking away to sit down on the couch. That's when I felt him pull me back into his arms, scooping me up by the thighs.

Now I was straddling his lap like I was one week ago. He placed his lips onto mine as we passionately made out with each other. Our tongues were fighting for dominance, knowing he had won that fight, feeling him rubbing his hands all over my body.

Next thing I knew, our clothes were on the floor as the cold breeze hit our bodies. It was like we had lost control in the moment, feeling my body grinding on his hardened dick.

Hearing him hiss at the feeling, we stopped what we were doing as we looked at each other, I couldn't wait any longer for this begging him with my eyes just to fuck me right there.

"We don't have to do this mama, ion want you to feel uncomfortable or being forced." Jey said trying to read my facial expressions.

I shook my head, "I want too Josh...I wanna do this...I trust you..." I was shocked at myself for even saying this despite my trust issues but with Jey it felt so different he's been my peacemaker.

SMUT WARNING He kissed me on the lips, trailing them down onto my neck and giving me wet kisses as I threw my head back in pleasure, letting him do whatever he wanted to do to me.

He was sucking on my neck like a vampire that needed blood supply as he marked me up good, at this point we reached our limit knowing that we both wanted more from each other and not just some kissing and teasing each other.

I felt him rubbing my soaking folds against his tip as I sat down on it, letting his dick fill me up well as I gasped, knowing that he was finna be all in my shit. He pulled me closer to his body and held onto me tightly, giving me nothing but sweet kisses on the cheek.

"You goin' to ride this dick fo' me baby?" He said in a low tone that gave me shivers I nodded my head, looking into his eyes

I slowly moved my ass up and down on his dick, trying to adjust to his size, feeling his hands guiding my hips to my movements. I never felt so full before, especially when I was with Carmelo again. Something about Jey is different.

I had my eyes rolling in the back of my head as Jey watched me bounce all up on his dick I could see him having his bottom lip tucked underneath his teeth.

"Damn, mama...this some good ass pussy.." Jey Groaned as I sped up my pace a little bit.

I saw him throwing his head back as he continued to watch me become a moaning mess for him and only him.

"F-fuckk Josh..." I moaned breathlessly maintaining eye contact with him as I bit the bottom of my lip.

"You so fucking pretty baby, taking papi's dick so well." He was a much better talker than melo was it just turned me on even more. We stopped in our tracks as we heard the door knocking as me and him looked at each other.

But then I felt him thrust his hips upward, causing me to gasp while he covered my mouth, continually thrusting his hips so deep inside of me.

"Yo Uce! we gotta do this segment in like 20 minutes!" Jon said.

"Shit...A'ight then uce I'll be out there in a few!" Jey managed to speak as he pounded into my wet cunt. He looked dead into my eyes, giving me a warning.

At the point, his dick felt like it was all in my guts as I let him take control of the situation, feeling pull my face closer to his as we passionately kissed.

"Ouuu papi...you're so deep. " He liked the way I sounded, and I practically begged him for more—more of him calling out his name.

"Yeah? Keep bouncing on it then mama, make me nut." I did what I was told to do and went back to bouncing on his dick on the couch.

I felt my walls gripping onto him, hearing him cursing under his breath, spanking my ass in the process, getting a handful of it.

I felt a pit going down my stomach, knowing that I was going to be coating my cream all over him as we continued to tongue kiss each other.

His hands were guiding my hips to speed up the pace a little more as skins were slapping against each other, which sounded out the entire room. I could feel his tip hitting my cervix driving me crazy.

He was so deep inside of me it had me seeing stars knowing that this man drives me crazy. I could feel myself coming closer to my orgasm.

That's when I felt him get up flipping us over, now my back was on the couch while my legs were pinned to my sides as he began drilling my shit.

I couldn't handle it anymore as I tried to push him by his stomach but he slapped my hand away fucking vigorously. "J-Joshhhhuaa oh my godddd." I moaned his full name rolling my eyes in the back of my head.

"Mhm...give me this shit mama...cum all over this dick..." He grunted firmly grabbing me by the throat not wanting to hurt me.

The air was thickening with our breathing and sweating making it feel hot inside the locker room. Jey circled his hips hitting my spot over and over again as I felt defeated by him.

Our foreheads were touching each other staring into each other's eyes deeply as he pecked me on the lips letting me to relax and that he got me.

"Uhnnn Josh I-I'm finna C-cum..!" I mewled weakly feelin' tired and overwhelmed.

I heard him whispering something in my ear that made me came all over this man, "C'mon cum fo' papi baby...daddy's got'chu pretty mamas." I felt my legs shaking as I let out a gasp cumming all over him rolling my eyes deeply in the back of my head while he was watching too.

My entire body quivered underneath him as I saw my cream coat his dick so well while he continued to beat my shit in.

I felt so overwhelmed that I had tears running down my face due to me being sensitive around my area, using my hand to push him away, but that just made things worse.

He kept my legs over his shoulders, pounding into me so deeply to the point where I couldn't even look him in the eyes anymore, covering my face in the process.

"Move yo' damn arm away from yo' face minks lemme' see how good I'm fucking you." He demanded as he removed my arm away from my face.

He liked the way I was looking so miserable underneath him, holding onto the couch for dear life and feeling his dick twitch inside of me.

His movements became slower and sloppier with every single thrust he gave me; he wanted me to feel every inch.

"Fuck minks I'm finna nut..." Jey placed a soft kiss on my lips as he moved his hips deeper into my gushy insides.

After a few more thrusts, Jey pulled out of me, letting out a satisfying groan escaping his lips while he came all over my stomach, stroking the rest of his nut out.

'This is some of best sex I ever had.'

SMUT OVER.

I was panting heavily as my chest was heaving up and down; my legs felt like jello shaking violently. Jey had taken notice of that and began massaging my thighs, planting kisses over them.

He grabbed a napkin so he could wipe his nut off of my stomach, after he did that we began putting on our clothes as I attempted to walk towards the mirror fixing my hair hiding my hickies in the process behind my hair.

My legs felt so weak I could barely stand, 'damn, this nigga fuck me good way to good.' He walked up behind me wrapping his arms around my waist placing a kiss on my cheek as we looked at each other in the mirror.

"You good minks?" Jey asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine my legs just feel like jello now because of you sir." I said rolling my eyes at him as I heard him chuckling softly.

"My fault mamas, you just felt so good I couldn't help it." I punched him in his chest before placing a kiss on his lips.

He pulled away from me, grabbing his phone and checking the time he had to leave for this segment before Jon starts to get pissed like a little ass kid. With that he gave one final kiss before heading out to meet with Jon.

Meanwhile, I saw my phone light up as I saw that Bianca had texted me.

Breezy🫶🏽 sent 2+ messages IMESSAGE 💬 Breezy🫶🏽: Yasmine wya? Breezy🫶🏽: oh never mind you with Joshua?

I just chuckled at the messages and began texting her back.

Minnie🧃: yeah, I was spending time with Josh Breezy🫶🏽: girl what was yall doing in there?😭 Minnie🧃: well see about that😭😭 Breezy🫶🏽: OMG BITCH YALL TWO IS NASTY Minnie🧃: we couldn't control ourselves okay😭 this is what we wanted Breezy🫶🏽: I understand girl completely but hurry up before Montez get back in here Minnie🧃: I'm otw now 😭

I made sure that I've gotten everything before leaving towards Montez's locker room, while walking down the hallway I ran into him yet again but this time I just ignored his ass not wanting to hear what he has to say.

As I made it towards my brother's locker room, I opened the door and saw Trinity and Bianca sitting on the couch like always. They both looked at me, darting their eyes behind me.

When I turned around, I saw Carmelo standing behind me, which made me jump a little bit before I turned around and sighed deeply.

"Melo what the fuck." I said.

His eyes darted towards my neck seeing all of my purple hickies on my neck that Jey had applied on me I could read his facial expressions and he looked pretty pissed.

He moved my hair to the side, getting a better view of the hickeys on my neck, "Yasmine, why the fuck are there hickeys on your neck?" I rolled my eyes at him, folding my arms in the process.

"Why does it matter? Get it through your head, Melo. We are not together." Carmelo tried to grab me by the arm, but Trinity came just in time to stop him, slapping him in the face and causing him to stumble backward while shutting the door in his face.

I sat down on the couch, rubbing my temple, feeling frustrated with all of this. The girls could see how stressed I was.

"Girl, you gotta get a restraining order on him or something or he'll just keep harassing you." Bianca said.

I nodded my head agreeing with them I had to do something or this will get worst.

✧˚° OMNISCIENT After work, Yasmine decided to go home and chill for the rest of the day since her body was sore and still recovering from the session she and Jey had earlier today.

When she pulled up in the driveway, she turned off the ignition switch in her car, grabbed her keys and bags from the backseat, and exited the car.

She had thought about what Bianca had said about getting a restraining order against Carmelo. It would probably finally give her some piece of mind if he stayed away from her, and if he went against it, he could go to jail.

It made her smile to think about him being in jail and away from her, especially since she and Jey have been getting close.

She unlocked the door, wiping her feet on the mat before coming inside. She held onto the wall, taking off her shoes and placing them on the rack.

Meanwhile, she sat down on the couch, sighing in relief, feeling her phone vibrate and seeing an unknown number calling her.

OTP Yasmine: hello? Unknown number: Hey minks Yasmine: who the fuck is this? Unknown number: girl it's Trick damn did you forget me already Yasmine: Nigga how did you get my number? Ion want nun to do with you Unknown number: c'mon you know what you told me wasn't true he didn't do that Yasmine: Trick fuck you like honestly your own best friend literally fucking raped me in my locker room and choke me the fuck out and you wanna call up my phone saying that I'm making it up? Unknown number: Minks c'mon now Yasmine: don't fucking call my number again Unknown number: Minks—

CALLED ENDED

Yasmine felt her cheeks getting wet as she wiped her tears away. She couldn't believe that this man didn't believe her and believed that she had made this all up just to ruin Carmelo's reputation.

She blocked Trick's TextNow number while bawling her eyes out on the couch, she had flashbacks of what had happened that day it always give her nightmares at night that's why she always wanted Jey to stay with her because he was her comfort person.

Yasmine wiped the rest of her tears away as she texted Trinity.

IMESSAGE 💬 Minnie🧃: hey, Trin? Trin🤭🫶🏽: yeah, girl what's up? Minnie🧃: is Joshua with yall? Trin🤭🫶🏽: no, him and Jon went out for drinks with the guys why what's wrong? Minnie🧃: sigh, I'm having a mental breakdown right now and I just need him here but ion' wanna be a burden if he's with the guys Trin🤭🫶🏽: hey! Don't say that about yourself you're not a burden to nobody not even Joshua Minnie🧃: I'm trying to calm myself down I can't believe that this man thinks I made it all up Trin🤭🫶🏽: who Trick? He called you? How? Minnie🧃: from a TextNow number Trin🤭🫶🏽: omg he's so weird for that honestly but let me see what time they're coming back okay? Minnie🧃: kk thank you Trin Trin🤭🫶🏽: ofccc I'll do anything for you

After she texted Trin, she went upstairs and went towards her bedroom, not knowing when Bianca and Montez were coming home. She lay down in her bed, curled up in a ball.

She didn't feel safe at work with Carmelo walking around, even though she had protection. She believed that her protection wouldn't help as much since they wouldn't really be around.

She again felt tears running down her face, hoping that Jey would come and comfort her, but she was also scared, wondering if she was pushing him away or scaring him off with her issues.

Wondering if she was enough for him in his eyes, Yasmine wiped her tears away, seeing her phone light up as she saw a text from Jey.

Joshua🤍 sent 2+ messages IMESSAGE 💬 Joshua🤍: hey, mama Trin had texted me saying that you were looking for me Joshua🤍: you okay?

She smiled at the messages but it went away due to her overthinking about what she had thought about.

Yasmine🩵: yeah, I'm okay bestie Joshua🤍: you don't have to hide it from me minks Yasmine🩵: I-I'm not hiding anything... Joshua🤍: Yasmine don't be doing that what's wrong? Yasmine🩵: it's nothing ion' wanna be a burden I'll see you tmr Josh goodnight Joshua🤍: Minks

Yasmine turned off her phone while getting up from her bed and going towards her dresser. She took off her clothes and threw them in the dirty bin right next to her dresser.

She heard her phone going off knowing that Jey was calling her but she didn't want to answer it ignoring her phone ringing, since she already took a shower at work she changed into something comfortable while getting inside her warm blankets.

In the dark, she tossed and turned, not feeling comfortable. Her bed felt empty without Jey cuddling her. She saw a car light approaching the house, probably thinking that it was Montez and Bianca coming home, but she heard the door knocking, which is something that they don't do when they have a key.

She got up from her bed walked downstairs towards the front door, opened the door seeing the person that she wanted to see and be with.

He looked good wearing all black along with his gold chain and white Air Forces including his piercings that hang from his ears.

He had his arms folded over his chest as she let him in before shutting the door behind him, standing there like a little kid.

Her eyes watched him sit down on the couch, curling up his finger in the process as she walked up towards him, going between his legs.

"C'mere Yasmine." Jey spoken.

She looked down at her feet, fiddling with her fingers, as he pulled her onto his lap, grabbing her chin and making her look at him.

Jey noticed that she had been crying, showing concern in his eyes. "Talk to me, mama. What was all of that about?" Yasmine opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

She sighed, knowing that she wasn't going to get away from this, so she explained what had happened and why she was acting like that, expressing herself that she didn't want to be a burden or worried that she was scaring him away with her issues, wondering if she was enough.

Hearing her vent and let out her feelings just broke his heart. Listening to this, he knew that he loved her deeply; she just didn't even know it.

"Minks, you're more than enough for me. You aren't a burden, mama. Don't ever say that." He reassured her while placing a kiss on her shoulder.

"I'm here for you, mama. You don't have to be afraid to tell me things." Yasmine nodded her head while lying down on his chest.

She knew that Jey was her true comfort person, her peacemaker, and she felt a sense of relief that Jey wasn't going to leave her or judge her for what she had gone through.

Yasmine knew that she would be loved by him.

Something Bout' Us.

A/n: I honestly understand Yasmine completely I know Jey is going to love her downnnn but Trick ass just a damn disgrace like how can you believe your best friend's lies over Yasmine? When you wasn't even there?

Idkk but he's pissing me off honestly.

But I hope yall enjoy the chapter lmk in the comments below.

Stay Ucey.

[ri-writes-if]

Progress Update — 31/07/24

TLDR: the first draft is done, editing stage. If everything goes well, the chapter should be up in August.

Hi everyone! Hope you’re having a fun summer. I had a blast writing this chapter. The demon form choice is in it, plus my favorite character appears, plus the events I thought of when I was only starting to create the story are waving from afar. It's great all around for me.

The chapter is more plot-focused, there aren’t many branches, and only one scene with the LIs at the end, but for these who want relationship progression (🤝)—I promise the next chapter will feed you because that’s where the routes will be locked and the five’s storylines start.

Once I finished the draft, I was thinking about some lore stuff for the later plot points and the romantic relationship experience system, which I’ll add in the next chapter. Like whether the MC experiences sexual attraction, have they ever loved, how much experience they’ve had, etc., because in case of romance, I want the MC and LIs have conversations about these topics when the time comes (and if it comes for your MC, lol).

Sorry to those who wanted more time before choosing a route. Making you decide now will make writing easier for me, so… 💛 Besides, the sooner I can set the variables for romantic/platonic routes, the sooner I can get into the tasty things!

I’m also planning to release Vez’s short I wrote for the 1K celebration thing, but I probably will do it after I’m fully done with the chapter. But it’s in plans!

[stealthetrees]

I would first like to apologize for the short chapter 3 for my fic Incident Reports from the Coruscant Guard. I keep having ideas for much later chapters and feel the need to write them. Also I don’t know how to write action. Pester me about it and I will feel guilty for not writing and may finish it sooner.

Anyway here’s the chapter when the Corries got Fives. For context, just after the Guard faked Ashokas death (bc she was a wanted criminal anyway and now they can use her to con people) Fox decided to try and break into the evil looking building they sometimes see Palpatine go to bc he’s convinced it’s an evil fortress that could have valuable information about the war. He got electrocuted and yeeted out a 5 story window.

He squinted at the clone in the bed next to him. “Do I know you?”

He flinched at Fox’s raspy voice, and his hands fluttered nervously around the blankets as he avoided eye contact. “Uh, no I don’t think we’ve met.”

“You don’t look like one of mine,” said Fox, wondering what he could have missed while he was out. He tried to sit up but was met with sharp pain in his chest. The hiss of pain summoned a vindictive medic like magic.

“Electrocution and nearly broken ribs. As a medical professional I’d recommend not trying to break into an evil sith fortress again,” said Cherry smugly. Fox had always suspected his medics secretly fought over who got to deliver news like that to him.

Giving up, he flopped back down. “Did I miss anything big?”

“Some ARC figured out The Conspiracy but fumbled it so bad the long necks told the Jedi his ‘aggression inhibitor chip’ broke and they believed it,” Cherry rolled his eyes and used air quotes. “Dogma’s pretty psyched cause they knew each other before acquisitions, oh! And this is Tup, fresh out of a lab. Also one of Rex’s Idiots.”

Tup waved nervously. Fox tried to give an encouraging smile. “We’re glad to have you, Tup.”

The words only seemed to make him feel guilty, as he turned away again.

“His inhibitor chip went off and he killed a Jedi during a battle. It’s been removed and we did some brain scans just in case. No further anomalies have been found, but we’re keeping him for observation just in case. For your mental state if nothing else,” Cherry directed the last part at Tup. “No one here hates you for something out of your control.”

He looked back at Fox, “Thorn has your armor and Vixen is directing offworld operations. It’s been pretty calm so I wouldn’t feel bad about sedating you if you try to escape. Follow instructions and it’ll only be a day or two. Call if you need anything.”

Cherry swept out of the room before either of them could argue. Fox and Tup looked at each other with mutual understanding and contempt for medics.

The next few days had troopers coming in and out through the visiting hours. Dogma and some of the other Idiots came by several times in between missions to talk to Tup. The familiar faces went a long way to cheering him up. They dragged Fox into conversation as often as they could, possibly trying to acclimate Tup to the wildly different social structure that made up the Coruscant Guard.

The constant distractions helped time pass, despite being banned from caff and work. The medics seemed almost disappointed to clear Fox for light duties. Lucky came by to bring him his armor and laugh at how fast he got Tup to call him dad.

“I’ll be your security today, Havoc got drafted into a drug bust,” said Lucky cheerfully.

“And you don’t have anything better to do than follow around someone with a 50,000 credit bounty everyone is too afraid to touch?” Fox asked sarcastically.

“Nope!”

“Greeeaaaaaat.”

Fox got about two minutes of silence, which only got them onto a train before Lucky started yapping about Separatist droid factories and how the different production methods could best be crippled. He even shows Fox the spreadsheet he was working on.

Fox gave some suggestions and critiques as the train slowed to a stop at their station. The mass of bodies flowed out onto the platform and the two soldiers were swept along, detangling themselves to push out onto the street.

Lucky finally looked up from the data pad. “This isn’t the way to the Barracks,” he said, frowning.

“I need to make sure Palpatine doesn’t do anything rash after what happened with the ARC,” Fox explained. “And get some caff.”

“I’d be surprised if he doesn’t,” Lucky muttered. “Oh! I almost forgot! The date for Scipio was moved up to this Thursday, everything else is the same though.”

“That’s perfect timing,” Fox sighed in relief. “Once the system is lost and Palpatine takes control of the banks we wouldn’t need to be so careful with illegal transactions. Has Slicer changed his passwords recently?”

“He finally made a bot to do it every time his blood pressure gets too high,” Lucky laughed.

Fox burst out laughing as they rounded the corner and nearly ran face first into Captain Rex.

He was fully armored and tense but the sight of his little brother reassured Fox in a way he couldn’t explain. He knew logically he’d still be mad about Ashoka but that didn’t matter in the moment, Fox was just glad he was still alive.

Rex punched him in the face, knocking Fox off balance and he didn’t bother trying to find his footing.

“Yeah that’s fair,” Fox muttered, taking the time to enjoy the ground.

“Hi Captain,” said Lucky somewhere above him.

“Did you know about Fives?” Rex demanded.

Fox jumped up at that, “Fives? What happened to Fives?!?”

Lucky failed too many tests on Kamino and was going to be decommed but another battalion happened to be there and smuggled him out as a shiny. Fox took him in bc Coruscant is a better place for him than an active battlefield. The Guard adopted him as their baby brother and all contributed to finishing his training. They got him when he was almost 17 but Fox didn’t clear him for duty until he was 19 cause he’s protective like that. Bc everyone was so worried about Lucky, the kid got the most varied and in-depth training of any clone ever. He could thrive in any position, even a commander. He knows slicing, mechanics, field medicine, strategy, Quinlan Vos even helped teach him about undercover and investigation stuff. He all knows how to fight force users and carries a slug thrower.

I love Lucky dearly. He’s o happy and cheerful your first impression of him is a little kitten, until he gets into a fight and then he’s a honey badger on crack.

[judysxnd]

Proofs that Pedro Pascal and Y/n Y/l/n are dating, (part 3)

I had this in my drafts since, well April. No! I actually started in march. The dates are actually when I wrote those little moments. I wasn’t confident enough to publish it but now I care less so I’m publishing it anyway (before I chicken out). I’m trying to be more active and change my mind! It’s not easy these days.

Here is part one and two !

———————————————————————————

23.04.23, in the morning, around 11am

It’s actually two different times, but it’s after y/n posted a video that day that the fans made the connection. A week ago approximately, Pedro posted a story of him talking about a new movie coming that one of his close friends was in. He was in bed. We could see the covers, grey with white dots. Nothing much, yet. But it’s on the 23rd, that it changed. Y/n posted a video of new clothes she bought. She put them all on her bed, to try and show everything. And that’s when we saw, again, the same cover, grey with white dots. How strange. Their fans immediately made the connection and went crazy about it. But neither Pedro nor Y/n said anything.

24.03.2023 in the afternoon, around 3pm

In a interview a while ago, as she was asked what was her nighttime routine before bed, y/n said that she was reading short stories, that it was helping her relax and get lost in her imagination, which led her to fall asleep very quickly. “That’s also why I only read before bed, because I will fall asleep if I read, so it’s not so good to do it any other time” she said. It might seem innocent and unrelated to Pedro, but bare with me for a minute.

On the 24rd, y/n was bored, and decided to start an Instagram live. At some point, she saw that Pedro was in the comments and told him to join her. So he did. Fans were asking them lots of question, but at one point, this one popped up “what are you guys currently reading?”. Y/n answered and said that she was reading “Kiss kiss” by Roald Dahl.

“Short stories are my fav” she said. “And there’s this one story that I really liked, about a woman murdering her husband” Pedro laughed as she summed up the story.

“Oh yeah I remember that one! We actually read it together” Pedro added.

It’s then on Twitter later that day after the live ended, that we could see videos from that old interview y/n did, but only the part about reading short stories before bed. Their fans instantly linked those two moments. They are dropping hints!!!

29/30.04.2023: during the night

A few people tweeted about seeing Pedro and y/n in a bar with some friends. Apparently they were sitting next to each other and were seen being pretty close.

“We were two tables away from them and we could see y/n leaning on him, there was some frequent touching , arms and thighs, they seemed really close”

“When they left, they were holding hands”

03.04.2023 in the afternoon

A new interview featuring Pedro Pascal and Y/n Y/l/n just dropped today in the afternoon. A new movie is upcoming, in which they are together. As Pedro is known as the daddy of internet, he obviously got asked at some point if it was bothering him or if he still liked it.

“I love it! It’s funny, I don’t know where it is coming from since I don’t have kids, but I love it. I’ll be their daddy forever” he said, looking straight at the camera

“Forever? At some point you’ll be their grandpa” Y/n said laughing. Pedro faked being shocked.

After a few questions, he was also asked if he had already read fanfictions about himself.

“No I haven’t, as I have already seen some tik toks about me, I never actually read anything and I don’t want to” he laughed

“I did” Y/n added out of nowhere

“I’m sorry what?” Asked Pedro, this time not faking the shocking expression.

“You read fanfictions about Pedro?” The interviewer asked Y/n

“Yeah! I’m curious.”

“What kind did you read?” The woman asked Y/n. She started to blush, which kind of revealed what she had read. “Okay from your expression we sense what you read” they all laughed.

“No no! I mean, maybe one or two pretty heated ones but no, there were like normal. It’s just my curiosity, it’s not like I read hundreds of fanfictions, it was just for fun. And it’s also really surprising to see how accurate they are actually” she laughed

“Wait, what do you mean accurate?” The interviewer asked. Looking at the woman who was interviewing them, you could see she was sensing that something between Pedro and Y/n was happening. And when you looked at Pedro and Y/n it seems like they realized what Y/n had said and what was going on. They seemed surprised and a little nervous.

“Hm- well, I mean, how- well, the way they make him talk, parts of his personality.. I also read a few about Joel and Peña, and well yeah, they’ve never seen Pedro but they write about him, and it’s.. well.. accurate” she laughed awkwardly.

“Oh okay, I thought about something else” the woman laughed. “I’ve read some and it was- heated” they all laughed

“Please I don’t want to know about it” Pedro said. (It was a close one)

10.05.2023 during the afternoon

Pedro and y/n were seen at the mall. Y/n was in line waiting for her drink order at some coffee shop. Pedro was waiting outside, smoking. Some fans came to ask him pictures. One took a video of their interaction with him. We were only seeing Pedro talking to the fans.

“What happened to your neck?” The fan asked. We can see Pedro confused.

“My neck?” He touches his neck to see if he could feel something but nothing. “Do I have something on my neck?” Another fan showed him the picture they took a few minutes before. We can clearly see that he has, in fact something on his neck : a hickey. Which he wasn’t aware of. “Oh” Pedro said, suddenly becoming red. He laughed awkwardly. Before he could add anything we can here a woman’s voice, it was Y/n. The video then showed her, talking and smiling to the fans here. Then the video ended.

This interaction went viral on Twitter (not really surprising). It raised even more suspicions, if they aren’t making it official, people are doing it for them. Proofs are piling up, it’s becoming difficult not to see it now.

12.05.2023, around 1pm

Pedro and Y/n have been spotted in a restaurant with another person. They were sitting next to each other while their friend was sitting in front of them. A fan posted a video of them from another table, and in the video, we can see Pedro kiss Y/n’s shoulder. They are not even hiding anymore! Or.. they are pretending?? Playing with us? We need an official statement!! We can see them going out together more and more, what is going on?

21.05.2023, around 10pm

Pedro and Y/n were seen entering a hotel. It was late, they only had one luggage and a backpack, and apparently a member of the staff of the hotel said that they only took one room. Is it true? They may have separate beds but we will never know. This is suspicious…

24.05.2023, 9:12pm

As we know Pedro was at Lux’s graduation. But, what we didn’t know until the hotel part, was that Y/n was there too. She apparently wasn’t at the graduation, but an interesting Instagram story appeared during the weekend. It was just a simple video, as many as there are, of Pedro dancing, in what seemed to be Lux’s apartment, dancing with her, and there was a third person dancing right behind them : Y/n. In the middle of the video, we see Nicolás, Pedro’s brother, entering the room, laughing at the scene. The story was on Lux’s Instagram and was captioned “this one was almost deleted. I would cherish that day forever 🤍” as she tagged Pedro, Nicolás, Y/n, and another person.

26.05.2023 at 11:47pm

Pedro posted a story of Y/n. They were apparently watching a movie together, but we can see in the video that they were in bed, next to each other. Even more suspicious! In the video, he is trying not to laugh, as he films Y/n, as she was extremely focused in the tv show they were watching. She was frowning, and not taking her eyes off the screen. He captioned “she is so focused in the tv show she apparently didn’t find interesting at first”. The next day Y/n finally saw the story, and reposted it saying “well, you’ve never seen your face! I’ll get my revenge you bastard”. They were in bed together! That’s all we are going to remember.

[joelsbloodyhands]

DisneyWorld with the Millers - Snippets of Scenes

Summary: Joel and Tommy take Sarah and Ellie to DisneyWorld for the weekend. Reader is dating Joel and has yet to meet the fam and sends the occasional text and call to Joel during their trip.

Warnings: None, all wholesome shit but be warned that Tommy is a menace 😈 and will continue to be when I drop the whole story

A/N: This is going to be mostly Miller family shenanigans. I wanted reader to be involved though even just a little bit but then reader may become very involved later *wink wink* you go to DisneyWorld with the Millers *cough cough*. This is just a couple of the first things I started writing for this. Like many things, I lose motivation so rather than let this rot away in my drafts, I thought it’ll bring me some drive to keep writing by posting these small random snippets. This at least gives a general idea for what’s to come. It was inspired by a moodboard by @whocaresstillthelouvre : https://www.tumblr.com/whocaresstillthelouvre/761712710067044352/joel-miller-takes-his-girls-to-disney-world and I wrote short bits of dialogue after the spark of inspo this moodboard gave me.

Dividers by @strangergraphics-archive

Extremely Short Teasers 🤭:

“Tommy for fucks sake,” Joel grimaces, his teeth gritting at stumbling across his brother standing outside Japan at Epcot with a small plastic cup in his hand, a sheepish grin on his face.

“That’s right, brother. This is saké,” he chuckles and downs the cup in one while Joel’s eyes dart around for his missing kid that ran off to the gift shop without so much of a word while the other trails behind him begrudgingly.

“Are we going to space mountain or what?” Ellie groans and Joel shakes his head and Tommy who chucks the cup half hazardously into a nearby bin.

“You have to get piss drunk at-“ Joel checks his watch, “barely even noon.” Tommy frowns.

“Tom, I’ve got two kids to accommodate here and I need you to go watch Sarah doesnt max out my credit card on mouse ears. Can you do that for me while I take this one-“ Joel jabs a finger back towards Ellie stood with her arms crossed, her brow raising with a growing smile, “to the space shuttle?”

“Space mountain,” Ellie corrects matter-of-fact while Joel mutters the correct name and Tommy wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Hey, no problem! Uncle Tommy’s got it handled! That’s what I’m here for.”

“Look, Ellie! They’ve got astronaut themed ears with Goofy on ‘em!” Sarah bellows from across the gift shop, Joel grimacing when Ellie knocks past him, practically sprinting through the store to Sarah’s arm holding a pair of silver mouse ears with blue and white accents.

Joel is just about ready to block his card when his phone vibrates in his pocket. He tugs it out sliding open the message you’ve sent him.

You: Hey baby :) how’s DW with the girls?

Considering just two minutes ago, Joel’s face felt like he’d gained new wrinkles since they set foot past security, his smile reaches his cheeks when he sees your name plastered across his phone screen. He glances up to check on Sarah and Ellie still tugging ears of all shapes and colours off hangers and giggling before typing out a reply.

Joel: I think I’ll need to build a wardrobe just to hang ears by the time they’re done breaking my bank account :’)

“Sooo…” Ellie swings her arms as the four of them walk away from the food cantina, “animal kingdom next?”

“Noooo,” Sarah groans, her brows furrowing as she flashes her eyes towards Joel, a grin on his face at her when she pleads, “Magic Kingdom. Dad, please.”

Joel feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. His hand goes to retrieve it but if he knows Sarah and Ellie well enough, they’ll be shocked just to see him even pulling it from his pocket. They’ve yet to know about you and he wants to introduce you the right way so he ignores the message…just for now and gives his daughters his undivided attention.

“Magic Kingdom and then we’ll make our way over to Animal Kingdom after.”

“Uncle Tommy wants to go to Hollywood Studios,” Joel practically has to hide the jolt that went through him when Tommy spoke up from behind his shoulder.

“Of course you do,” Joel grumbles, “and then we’ll go to Hollywood Studios.”

“What the hell!” Ellie flails her arms, her head snapping towards Joel, “No fair! We already went to like three different gift stores Sarah wanted to go to.”

Sarah flashes her sister a glare, “and you already made us wait for you and Uncle Tommy to finish Mission Space. The LEAST you could do was come gift shopping with us.”

“Joel!!” Ellie exclaims but Joel cuts her off.

“You have had your turn, Ellie. We’ll get to Animal Kingdom. I promise. Just let Sarah choose our next park.”

Ellie scoffs, “fine.”

“What’s she losing it over?” Joel quirks his head towards Ellie, his question directed at Sarah who has her phone out ready to take a video.

Meanwhile Ellie is busy bouncing on her heels and trying to shove her way through a busy crowd of people much to Joel being wary of how unapologetic his adoptive daughter is with ensuring she gets to the front of whatever army just gathered.

Sarah laughs, trying to follow Ellie while Joel takes his daughters arm to make sure she doesn’t get hurt through the crowd. He takes a rare minute to remember Tommy but when Joel catches the back of his brothers crazy dark mane walking into the catina, he shakes his head and decides he’s probably better off anyway.

“The Mandalorian,” Sarah nods towards a speck of silver, the wave of the crowd giving Joel only a blurry view of what they’re working their way towards.

“The what?” Joel grimaces, keeping his hand on Sarah’s elbow while holding his shoulders inward to avoid bumping into people.

“Some space man,” Sarah replies, emerging from the crowd and reaching Ellie’s side, her bouncing becoming more erratic.

Joel emerges too, his hand dropping back to his side and taking in the view of a helmeted character wearing armor with a robotic green alien looking thing in a bag.

“Bounty hunter,” Ellie rolls her eyes at Sarah’s earlier remark having caught the end of Joel’s questioning.

Joel’s brow lifts in concern, his eyes flickering between his daughter and the man in question she’s so excited to see who is currently showing some kids his little green pet.

“Don’t bounty hunters kill people?” Joel mumbles causing Ellie to nod, her amusement growing when the character gets closer to them.

Joel looks the guy up and down again, “Huh…and I thought this was Disney.”

“Don’t they have a tendency to kill off people in the movies?”

Joel starts, his head whipping around with wild eyes to see Tommy looking at the metal man with intrigue.

“Where the fuck did you come from?” Joel scolds under his breath at his younger brother who smiles to him in response. Joel swears the most annoying thing about Tommy is that he never matches the same irritated energy Joel receives from him. Tommy forever is as cool as a cucumber while being the most aggravating entity on the planet.

“They got drinks back there,” Tommy shrugs and then backtracks when Joel’s eyes narrow impatiently, “no, not like that. They’ve got these weird blue and green milk things.”

Joel frowns.

“Thought I’d come back and we can take the girls to try them together.”

The lines between Joel’s brows even out.

That’s surprisingly, well…surprising coming from Tommy.

Then Joel remembers himself.

“Wait, what was it you were saying about Disney killing people off again?” Joel inquires, his head turning to check on his girls watching the character make his rounds.

“Ya know, Bambi’s mother, Tarzan’s parents, Nemo’s mother…” Tommy trails off.

“They got a vendetta against women or-“ Joel’s teeth grit.

A Girl Dad through and through.

“Nah, you don’t remember Mufasa?” Tommy asks seriously.

Joel sighs, “can’t say I do.”

[phantomrose96]

hi your short story is giving me absolute brainworms it’s DAMN good. I don’t have anything of real note to add so I’ll just ask: is there anything you really want to say about the story but haven’t yet (like trivia or whatnot)?

(938 Seconds Per Second)

Probably that I'd very nearly abandoned it!

The idea started from an article I was reading about time dilation - the gist of it being "okay but what's to stop you from accelerating infinitely? Up to and past the speed of light?" and the conclusion was kind of "you sort of can... from YOUR frame, from YOUR perception of time, potentially. but from a resting frame, you will appear to only ever approach the speed of light." So even if you could perceive yourself traveling 100 light years in a month... to every resting body, 100 years have passed.

So I was like cool! Fucked up potential! I really liked the concept of "you can notice your mistake after 5 minutes and already be 100 years too late to fix it."

I toyed with a few ideas and ended up gravitating towards "what if one shipmate intentionally leaves another shipmate behind... and by the time this is discovered days later, the left-behind shipmate is long dead." I also settled on "what if your shipmate sucked so bad that he causes you to snap and leave him behind"

So I started writing with that as the core idea. Main character Mendoza has the Worst Coworker in the World Universe, and he snaps and leaves Carson behind on a planet.

...But then I was a little lost. I was struggling with the substance. The "what makes this interesting" and the "what ties this all together." Sure I could just write Carson being an ass for 3,000 words and then... Mendoza leaves him behind the end?

I was even struggling with the first draft because part of me was like "what's even enjoyable about reading about a completely insufferable person...?" Even Mendoza himself is no peach. Maybe the whole concept was just unpalatable. I kinda just... ditched it where it was.

Then I came back to it this weekend and decided to kind of rethink it, fresh. And the absolute biggest difference between the early stumbling draft and what I ended up with was Sampson. He actually solved so much. (He existed in the early draft, but not importantly.) He introduced the character stakes and the tying thread to the story I was missing.

Now it wasn't just Carson annoying Mendoza. Once Sampson's tome enters the story, the stakes change. Mendoza is now in the middle of Carson actively destroying the thing Sampson is even alive for. Mendoza is now in a position of actively needing to make choices--he could intervene and try to save Sampson's tome. He could tattle. He could do anything--but he doesn't. Because "not letting Carson win" is the single most important thing. Mendoza doesn't need to be any kind of hero. He chooses not to be.

And now the reader is captive to this conflict, privy to everything Mendoza knows, and does not act on, as Sampson unravels in the background.

And now we have a thread that leads to Carson and Mendoza ending up on-planet together. Carson isn't out there for shits and giggles, he's out there because the plot point about Sampson's tome led to this. Now Carson knows about the cargo, and now he's offering Mendoza the chance to not just be passive witness, but be accomplice to Sampson's destruction.

And it's enticing. It's unimaginable wealth, and it's getting off the shitty ship, and it's never seeing Carson again. Mendoza has the chance to stick to his every-man-for-himself ideals and go along with Carson. And it's interesting to explore Carson's reasoning for why they deserve this! They're the ones who sacrificed 300 years for this journey! Don't they deserve this over some fucker who wasn't even born when this mission started?

And then it reaches one pivotal moment--Carson's gleeful declaration that Sampson will totally kill himself once he discovers what they've stolen. Because now there are consequences to this action. If Mendoza follows through with this, it's with the knowledge that he's gotten Sampson killed. (And maybe he shouldn't care. Maybe it doesn't matter. As he's asserted this whole time.)

Mendoza doesn't do it. He pulls up the ladder after Carson.

He doesn't let Carson win.

And then the ending... the ending where Sampson very much was witness to Mendoza following Carson out of the ship. If Sampson were every-man-for-himself, he could just comply and tell Major Kensington what he saw. Mendoza knew Carson was outside the ship. Mendoza came back. Carson didn't. The ship took off. Sampson knows this all.

But, Sampson has an idea of what, may, have happened. He knows he accidentally revealed too much to Carson. He knows Carson stole the tome which contains information about the cargo. Sampson, maybe, knows what decision Mendoza made.

So Sampson lies to Kensington. Sampson will swear on his life he never saw Mendoza that evening. No one will ever know.

And just!!! It was delightful to find the piece that ties the WHOLE story through. It's not just "your coworker sucks and you booted him to live out 40 years on a planet for your next 2 weeks". It's character-driven now. It's about choices and consequences and the fucked up implications that the time-dilation travel throws in.

[scarabsinthestardust]

Better in the Morning // Ch. 1

MASTERLIST

Jake x original female character

When I originally started writing this, it was going to be a short story that was never going to see the light of day. But eleven chapters later, someone talked me into posting it. There probably won't be much of a posting "schedule," and this is a very rough draft, so go easy on me. 😅 (Also, I'm not married to the title so that may be subject to change later on down the road.)

word count: 3500+

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Language, very vague mentions of sex, mentions of death of a parent, mentions of not having a great relationship with the other, and Jake being a cocky bastard

“Okay, so tomorrow I’ll need you to grab the parts for the amp and pick up the Gretsch.”

“Sounds good, boss man.” I stood leaning against the counter while Richie scribbled down some notes.

He’d been lucky enough to score this nice little space in Nashville to start up a new guitar shop. Another local shop had recently shut down, so it was a great opportunity. It took a few months to prepare everything, but we finally opened a few days ago, and everything was running smoothly. My favorite part was getting to help repair and refurbish antique guitars that had been through the ringer. Hence the Gretsch. That was going to be our first project at the new place.

I’d been flitting around, helping customers, straightening shelves, and whatever else needed doing. The bell at the front door dinged, indicating someone had entered. I glanced up to see Richie greeting the man, who nodded at him and walked over to the wall of electric guitars. He looked like a musician. He carried himself like a cocky, broody, rockstar who couldn’t even be bothered to take his sunglasses off inside. His shirt wasn’t even buttoned all the way up. I rolled my eyes before going back to my work.

I was moving one of the acoustic guitars over to a small area we had set up with a couple of wooden stools, so it would be available if someone wanted to test it out. I strummed a chord or two to make sure it was in tune and gently placed it on the stand.

“You play?”

I turned to face the owner of the voice, not surprised at all to see Mr. Broody. “I dabble. And you? Looking for anything in particular?”

“Well, I was just browsing. Checking out the new digs, you know?” He took the silly round frame sunglasses off, allowing me to get a better look at his face. “But I ended up finding something I do want.” He gave a cocky half smile, and I saw his eyes check me out from head to toe.

Oh, we’re going to play that game. He wasn’t bad looking by any means. His dark shoulder length hair hung loose, framing his features. The navy-blue button up he wore looked really good on him, undone at the top to show off a few silver chains that hung around his neck. His chocolate brown eyes looked mischievous, in a way that just screamed trouble. My favorite. I’d play along, have a little fun with him.

“Is that so? And what makes you think you can handle me?” I cocked my head and crossed my arms, smiling playfully at him.

“What makes you think I can’t?” He took a step closer to me.

“You’re being awfully cocky for someone who doesn’t even know my name yet.”

Another step. “Would you even tell me if I asked?”

“I don’t know that you’ve earned it yet.”

He took another step. I could smell his cologne, something woodsy with a hint of sweet rum. “How about a fair trade?”

“Oh, and what did you have in mind?”

The last step brought him so close we were practically touching. At least he was gentleman enough to keep his hands to himself. The banter was clearly good-natured and flirtatious. I didn’t feel threatened or creeped out, and to be honest, he was piquing my interest. “You tell me your name; I’ll take you out. Coffee or lunch, your call.”

I noticed Richie starting to walk over, giving me a concerned look. I smiled and waved him off, letting him know I was doing just fine. The handsome, albeit slightly annoying man was watching me, patiently awaiting a response. I reached out to touch the silver coin pendant he wore, inspecting it. “Recovered from the shipwreck of Nuestra Señora de Atocha.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m impressed.”

I dropped the coin, letting it fall back against his chest. “Alright, mystery man. I’ll take you up on coffee. Friday. Gives you a few days to really think about what you’re getting yourself into, in case you change your mind.”

“Not a chance. But you have to hold up your end of the bargain.”

I raised my chin defiantly and looked straight into his eyes before responding. “Kya. And you already know where to find me, so I’ll see you on Friday. Better make it worth my while.”

“Oh, I intend to, Kya.” He said my name like he was savoring it, turning it over on his tongue as if it were a wine tasting. I wonder if he knows how to put that tongue to good use.

“Do I get to know your name, or is that a secret?”

He smiled and winked before stepping away, creating some distance between us and the obvious sexual tension that was starting to develop. “Jake.”

“Jake. I’ll see you soon, then. If you don’t chicken out, anyways.”

He scoffed a laugh, shaking his head before turning to leave. I called his name, making him turn to look at me one more time. “Don’t disappoint me.”

“I would never.” He shot me another one of those cocky smiles before putting his sunglasses back on and leaving the store. It was hard not to notice the dirty look Richie had plastered on his face as Jake made his departure.

“Now what did he ever do to you?” I laughed, walking back to Richie, and leaning my elbows on the counter.

Richie shook his head. “I don’t trust rockstars. You gotta be careful around guys like that, kid.”

“You think he’s an actual rockstar?” I snorted, brushing off his comment.

He raised an eyebrow at me. “I don’t think. Hang on.” He walked over to a shelf of vinyl records, took a moment to find what he was looking for, and brought it back to the counter. ‘Greta Van Fleet.’ Anthem of the Peaceful Army. He pulled out the insert and pointed to the spot in the corner with the list of the band members and what they played. Right there, clear as day, was ‘Jacob Kiszka – lead guitar.’ It wasn’t lost on me that the lead vocalist and bassist also shared the same last name.

“You’re kidding.” I pulled my phone out, opened Instagram, and typed in the band name, scrolling through the photos. I clicked on a few group pictures, just to confirm what I was seeing. Yep, definitely him.

“Well shit, I guess I’ve got a coffee date with Jacob fucking Kiszka.”

~

I think I had recognized the name ‘Greta Van Fleet’ and maybe had heard a few songs here and there, but I couldn’t name any. I knew next to nothing about them or their music. But as far as Jake was concerned, we had our little game we were playing, and I wasn’t interested in letting him win it just yet. By the time Friday rolled around, I vowed to be prepared for whatever he would throw my way.

I started with their first release; a double EP titled From the Fires. I pressed play and kept it going for my drive across town. I found myself really enjoying it. The singer had an exceptionally interesting voice, and the guitar riffs were so smooth and pure. Jake, you might actually know a thing or two about playing guitar.

I picked up the parts Richie needed for the amp repair and plugged in the address for my next errand. After listening to From the Fires in its entirety, I switched to their first full length album, Anthem of the Peaceful Army, catching myself tapping fingers on the steering wheel in tune to the beat.

I had not met the man I was picking up the Gretsch from, but Richie assured me he was a good guy and an easy customer. I knocked on the door to the house and was greeted by an elderly man. “Hi, I’m Kya. Richie sent me to pick up a guitar?”

“Oh, yes, of course! Come in, come in. I’m Gary.” He moved slowly a little hunched over as he led me into the living room and pointed to a worn-out guitar case on the floor. “Hope you’ll forgive me, sweetheart, it ain’t easy for me to lift that anymore.”

“Not a problem at all. May I?” He gave me the go-ahead and I squatted down to examine the case. It was well worn and damaged on the edges, but it was still functionable. It had a thick layer of dust over the surface, only disturbed by recent finger marks, presumably from it being moved to the living room. I popped the locks and opened it, revealing the absolute treasure inside. This guitar had definitely been through the ringer. The green paint on the body was faded and chipped, and the wood was cracked in a few spots. Pretty much all the hardware would need to be replaced, but it had decent bones. It would be a lot of work, but it would be well worth it, and I was excited for the project.

“Can’t help but feel guilty for letting it fall into disrepair like that.” I turned to meet the man’s sad eyes. I bet he had his fair share of stories to tell.

I smiled sweetly at him, trying to ease whatever sadness he was feeling. “I’ve seen much worse. And I’m confident we can get her looking and playing just like new.” I shut the case and lifted it by the handle, sending him another reassuring glance. “I’ll take care of her, I promise.”

“I know you will. Thank you, ma’am, and tell Richie I said thank you as well.”

“Will do.” He walked me back to the front door and I shook his hand before leaving, loading the case carefully into my back seat. I waved to the sweet old man watching me from his porch and hit the road, still jamming to Anthem of the Peaceful Army.

~

By the time Friday rolled around, I’d made sure to familiarize myself with the rest of the discography and did some social media investigating. I learned Jake’s twin brother, Josh, was the one with those wicked pipes, their brother Sam played bass and absolutely beautiful keyboards, and Daniel was the drum guru.

Sure, I was excited to continue our silly back and forth but did not want to let myself be disappointed if he didn’t show. Richie never missed an opportunity to remind me that it was a bad idea, to which I would roll my eyes and politely ask him to mind his own business. “I’m grown, and more than capable of taking care of myself,” I would remind him right back.

It was around 11 AM, the store had only been open for an hour and a half. The little bell above the door rang and in walked Mr. Broody Rockstar himself. He still wore his shirt only half buttoned, except today it was white. He wore the same round frame sunglasses, but he took them off when he entered, scanning the store, presumably for me. When his eyes found mine, I smirked at him but didn’t move. I’d make him come to me. He approached me, looking quite smug.

“You showed. I’m impressed. I thought you might disappoint.”

“And miss the chance to gaze upon the beautiful woman in front of me?” He sucked his teeth. “Never.”

How ostentatious. “Well, if I remember correctly, you owe me a coffee date. Are you going to hold up your end of the bargain?”

“I always do.”

“Then lead the way, Mr. Kiszka.”

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond to my use of his last name. I grabbed my jacket and purse, and as we walked past the front counter, he put his hand on my lower back. I didn’t mind. But then he leaned in and, not so quietly, said, “Maybe afterwards I can show you something much more enticing than coffee.”

The implication was clear, and I was not averse to the idea of seeing what he had to offer. However, he made his bold little statement within earshot of Richie, who promptly stepped out from behind the counter and blocked our path to the door. “Watch it, lover boy,” he all but growled.

I shot Richie the hardest glare I could muster. “Settle down, guard dog,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’ll be back later.” The look I gave him relayed the message clearly: ‘Move, and don’t fucking embarrass me.’

He stepped back out of the way but didn’t bother to hide the dirty look he shot Jake, who didn’t seem to falter once. I made a mental note to tear Richie a new one later and we exited the shop.

Jake let out a breath that I didn’t know he had been holding. “Some guard dog you’ve got there.”

I grinned sheepishly. “Sorry about him. He’s a little protective, is all.”

“I can tell. You’d think he was your dad or something.”

Laughing, I hooked my arm with his as we walked. “Richie practically raised me. And he’s harmless compared to my actual father, who you’ll consider yourself lucky to never meet.”

“Oh, we have daddy issues, huh?”

He was trying to push my buttons on purpose, but I found it sort of endearing, in an annoying kind of way, and one that probably made me a little bit of a masochist. “You know, Jacob, your flirting methods are very questionable.”

“At least you recognize the flirting. Besides, you haven’t had any problems dishing it right back, sweetheart.”

“I never do.”

“Spitfire.” His laugh is cute.

He led me to one of the local coffee shops. We ordered our drinks and found an empty table next to the window. Jake looked so proud of himself, like he had won some elusive prize by getting me to have coffee with him. It gave me a chance to really look at him through the sunlight that was beaming through the window. He was very attractive, and I was a sucker for how the sun reflected in his eyes. His smile was doing something for me, too.

“So, Kya, are you from Nashville?” He sipped his coffee but didn’t take his eyes off me.

“No, I’ve only been here for about eight months. I was born in Texas but mostly raised in West Virginia. And you, you’re from… Michigan?”

“Did your research, huh?”

“I like to be prepared.” I smirked at him.

“You know,” he leaned back and rested his arm on the back of the empty chair next to him. “I find it really unfair that you know so much about me and I know next to nothing about you.”

“You better start playing catch up, then.”

He took that as a challenge he had no intention of backing down from. He shot off some rapid-fire questions, mostly small talk like what kind of music I liked, hobbies, if I had any pets (I did not). I’d ask some of the same questions, little things that I didn’t know or just hadn’t read about yet. I knew about his brothers, his bandmates, but he shared he also had a younger sister back in Frankenmuth.

I answered everything he asked me honestly. After all, I didn’t have anything to hide, not really. But when he asked me about siblings, I decided I didn’t particularly want to discuss my brother. So, I told him I had none, which was only a partial lie. Luca died when we were kids, and I did not feel like ruining the mood with that story.

He leaned forward again, resting his forearms on the table. His sleeves were halfway rolled up, giving me a view of a singular, linear scar on his left forearm. “Middle school. I broke it wrestling.” He looked pensive for a moment, like he was considering what to say next. “Thought I wouldn’t be able to play guitar again, but it actually helped. After it healed, it was easier to reach a fret further than I could before.”

I always found stories like that interesting. I could play some basic chords and riffs, but I wouldn’t consider myself good at it by any means. It wasn’t an easy instrument to learn how to play, and certainly wasn’t easy to play as well as he did, so I admired his dedication and talent. “Well, thank God for broken bones. Seems less dramatic than selling your soul to the devil at a crossroads, anyways.”

He chucked, showing he did, in fact, get the Robert Johnson reference. “Yeah, I think you’d be correct. Might hurt less, though.” He was funny, I’ll give him that, and he was starting to grow on me a little.

“So, tell me more about this ‘rabid guard dog’ and ‘daddy issues’ situation. I’d like to know what I’m getting myself into.”

I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Richie means well. It’s just that sometimes he still sees me as the scared little girl that got dropped off on his doorstep in the middle of the night, which I guess leads into the second part. My dad is… a complicated person whose life can be a literal dumpster fire. I haven’t seen him in a few years, but I’ll get a phone call occasionally, checking in.”

Jake thought about it for a second, cautiously moving to the next question. “Can I ask, is your mom in the picture?”

“No. She died when I was a baby.” Before he could get out an overdone condolence, I shook my head. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it. It was a long time ago and I didn’t know her.” It wasn’t just an empty reassurance. You can’t miss someone you didn’t even know. Most of what I knew about my mom came from Richie and other family friends, but even those bits of information were few and far between. My dad never wanted to talk about her, surely because it hurt him to do so. Probably the same reason he refused to talk about Luca.

I shifted the conversation to something lighter, asking him about touring and the process of creating albums. I could see him light up as he talked about it; this was his happy place.

I hadn’t been paying much attention to the time, but when I checked my phone, it was almost one in the afternoon, and I had six unread text messages from Richie. I cringed. “I should probably get back to the shop and at least pretend I work there.”

“He probably thinks I kidnapped you.”

“Nah, he can track the microchip implanted in my neck.” We both snickered at the joke as we stood to leave. We linked arms again and he offered to walk me back to the store. He decided not to come back inside, not wanting to push his luck with my personal security guard.

“Have I earned the privilege of obtaining your phone number, milady?” The faux English accent made me giggle, although it didn’t keep me from thinking he was a huge dork.

I held my hand out, gesturing for him to hand me his phone. I inputted my name and number before handing it back to him. He then grabbed my hand, making a theatrical bow before kissing the back of my hand, ever so delicately. “It’s been a pleasure. Until next time.”

I said goodbye and walked into the store, the bell indicating my presence. Richie glanced at me before returning his attention to the customer he was helping. I got started on some busy work until he rang up the man’s purchases and was free again.

“How was your date?” His arms were crossed, and he had a disapproving look on his face.

I beamed at him. “It was lovely, thank you for asking. And before you ask, yes, he was a perfect gentleman. And yes, I will be seeing him again.”

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your dad ain’t gonna be happy when he finds out you’re dating a musician.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing he isn’t here,” I spit, not bothering to hide the bitterness in my voice. “He is the last person who gets to have a say in who I date.”

Richie could be overbearing at times, but he knew when to back off. He and my dad had been friends since they were young. When my dad got into some trouble, he dropped me and Luca off with Richie and disappeared for three years. I was seven. Luca was nine. When he showed back up in our lives, I didn’t want to forgive him. He abandoned us, and I could never shake the hurt that came with that. He would continue to make empty promises that he would stay, that he would make it up to us, that he would be present. He never kept those promises.

As I got older, the hurt turned into anger, which morphed into numbness, and then eventually became apathy. I stopped caring so much about what he thought about my life or what was going on in his a long time ago.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I couldn’t help but smile at the message.

Unknown number – 1:47 PM

Thanks for giving me a chance, spitfire.

Dinner soon?

[hockeyforbabes]

Burnt cookies and movie nights

Master List

the story of how Connor and Amber met,

Connor Bedard x OC au

It's Saturday morning when I hear loud noises coming from the apartment next door. I glance at my phone seeing it says 7AM and groan, why are people awake this early. I try to go back to sleep but the persistent noise keeps me awake. The landlord informed me someone was moving in but I never anticipated it would be this loud or this early.

Reluctantly I crawl out of bed and go look out my peephole trying to catch a glimpse of my neighbor. To my dismay, it’s just moving people in the hall.

Knowing getting back in bed is pointless right now I hop in the shower and get dressed for today. I contemplate cooking breakfast but I don’t feel like setting off the fire alarms again so I decide to head down the street for coffee.

Just down the block from my apartment building is a small mom-and-pop cafe called “Rosa’s” that I frequent most mornings. It is tucked away so it stays pretty slow which means I know the owners well.

“Good morning Mrs. Rosa,” I say walking in.

“Ah good morning Miss Amber, how are you today?” The sweet old lady asks me.

“I’m good just not ready to be awake yet.”

“Yes why are you up so early, you rarely come in before 10:30”

“New neighbor is moving in” I sigh.

Rosa perks up hearing that and asks, “Oooh is he cute?”

“Rosa that’s all you think about," I laugh "I haven’t seen the neighbor yet so I don’t know anything about them”

“Bring them a baked good and introduce yourself” she suggests.

“Rosa you know I can’t cook” I remind

“Well that’s obvious, I meant buy something here and take it to him. That way you don’t kill the boy” she laughs.

“Again we don’t know if he is a he," I say rolling my eyes "but yeah baked goods isn’t a bad idea.”

“Here take some of my brownies, on the house” She orders as she packs a box to go.

“You don’t need to do that”

She turns to look at me like I am crazy, “No, I insist I’m trying to find you a man, and those brownies are magic”

“And what if my new neighbor is a sweet old lady”

“Then you get me a new customer!” she says excitedly.

I laugh at her excitement about my new neighbor but I grab the brownies and my coffee and head back to my apartment.

When I arrive home the hallway has cleared out and it’s quieter. I head into my apartment to set my things down and give myself a once over in the mirror before taking the brownies and heading next door.

When I get to the door I get a sudden rush of nerves but I bring my hand to the door giving it a solid knock.

After a few seconds, the door is opened to reveal a guy around my age. He’s not super tall but he’s a few inches above me and he has an athletic build. He’s wearing a Blackhawks t-shirt and shorts.

“Hi I’m Amber Jennings,” I greet breaking the silence, “I don’t mean to bother you but I’m your neighbor so I wanted to introduce myself.”

“Hi I’m Connor Bedard” He responds with a small smile

“That name sounds familiar, do you go to school around here?” I ask curiously.

“No um I actually play hockey for the Blackhawks,” He says sheepishly scratching the back of his neck

“Oh okay yeah you just got drafted, I think I saw an article about that,” I say trying to recall as I notice the brownies still in my hand.

“These are for you by the way,” I say handing him the box of brownies “I got them from the cafe down the street since I can’t cook for shit but it’s the thought that counts right.”

“Oh you didn’t need to do that,” He says.

“Don’t worry about it, I just wanted to be neighborly”

“Well thank you then” He offers a shy smile

“I’ll get out of your hair now so you can unpack but don’t hesitate to knock if you need me,” I tell him before walking back to my door.

—————————

A week later

It’s a rainy day in Chicago when I’m rushing home from class, trying but failing to remain dry. Running into the lobby of my building I see the elevator doors closing when I shout out “wait wait hold the door please”

The doors reopen and when I step in I see Connor. It’s the first time I’ve seen him since we met last week.

“Oh hey Connor, get caught in the rain too?” I ask after seeing his wet hair.

“Yeah, picked a bad day to walk to the arena” He shrugs.

“I know I thought I could make it home from class if I ran, guess I overestimated my abilities” I laugh gesturing to my soaked hoodie and he lets out a small laugh.

“You staying in the rest of the day? I think the weather is supposed to get bad later” I ask.

“Yeah I am, coach made us all go home early cause the weather, you staying in?”

“Yep this is perfect weather for couch rotting” I sigh excitedly “might even make some cookies”

He gives me a strange look, “I thought you said you can’t cook”

“It’s premade dough how hard can it be” I smile as we get off the elevator.

---

Two hours later I’ve got my cookies in the oven successfully and I decided to take a shower before I curl up on the couch.

Getting lost in my thoughts and the feeling of the warm water I spend longer than planned in there. I step out of the shower putting on my fluffy robe when I smell something awful.

Opening the bathroom I walk out to see my kitchen filled with smoke. Grabbing a towel I start fanning the room trying to clear the smoke. Opening the oven I see my cookies on fire and I let out a small scream, "Not again" I groan.

Fuck fuck fuck I already used my fire extinguisher last month. Thinking quickly I run next door and bang on the door. Connor quickly opens the door a worried expression on his face when he sees my frantic state.

“What’s wrong?" He asks brows furrowed.

“Do you have a fire extinguisher?" I say panic evident in my voice.

His jaw drops and his expression only grows more concerned, “What why?”

"No time to explain, do you have one?" I practically yell.

“Yeah under my sink”

“Ok grab it and come on," I shout running to my apartment.

He enters the apartment moments after me, fire extinguisher in hand. Immediately his face drops taking in the scene, “What the fuck happened?”

“I left my cookies in the oven while I showered and now they are on fire!” I say ripping the extinguisher from his hands and spraying the burning sheet of cookies.

Once the fire is put out he helps me fan out the smoke from the cookies and fumes from the chemicals.

"Ok you said you can't cook not that you cause disasters when you cook," He says poking at the tray of cookies that is now charcoal.

I let out an annoyed huff, "I thought I was getting better."

"Why did you get in the shower if you were gonna bake?" He asks like what I did was so crazy.

"Well I was just gonna be quick, and then the water felt nice, and I forgot about the cookies...I just wanted to shower before I watched my movie and ate my food," I groan.

Connor laughs a little at my annoyance and glances over at my TV in the living room, "You were gonna watch Miracle?" he asks confused.

"Yeah it's a good movie and my professor told us to watch a movie with good leadership examples so win-win," I shrug.

"Good choice, I love that movie"

Before thinking I say, "Wanna watch it with me?'

He looks at me a little shocked and I can see him internally debating, "Um yeah sure."

"Oh yay I hate watching movies alone, let me go change real quick," I say running off to change.

While I'm in my room Connor looks around at my apartment. It's similar to his but smaller and much more cluttered. There are pictures and art on every wall and a wall lined with bookcases that are filled with records, books, and movies. Knicknacks litter the surfaces of my apartment and most of the furniture is chosen for comfort rather than aesthetics but it all works together.

When I return Connor is looking through my bookshelves, "Your apartment is cool." He says.

"Thank you, these are all my prized possessions," I say, "ready to start the movie?"

He nods and sits on the opposite end of the couch from me and I laugh a little to myself at how tense he seems. I turn on the movie and we fall into a comfortable silence both enjoying the movie. After a while, I peek over at him and notice he has relaxed into the couch and I smile to myself happy he is comfortable.

Towards the end of the movie, my stomach lets out an embarrassing grumble and Connor shoots a glance at me.

My cheeks turn a little pink and I send him a small grin, "The cookies were supposed to be my dinner."

"Cookies aren't dinner," he says confused.

"They can be, except now they are charcoal," I say sadly.

"No they can't be dinner," he argues again, "wait here," he says standing up and leaving.

Confused by where he went I sit there slightly shocked but he quickly returns with a container in his hands. "Do you like spaghetti?" he asks.

"Yeah," I say confused.

"I um made some for dinner if you want some," he says fiddling with the container awkwardly.

"Really!" I exclaim, "I can't remember the last time I had a real meal that wasn't takeout."

Laughing a little at my excitement he heats the food up in the microwave and brings it to me.

"Connor Bedard you are officially the best neighbor ever," I praise when he hands me the food.

He sits back down smiling at me as I dig into the food. When I take a bite I let out a hum of satisfaction, "This is really good, who taught you to cook?"

"My mom mostly but the team nutritionist helps us with recipes and stuff," he answers, "Can you really not cook at all?"

"Nope," I say swallowing a mouthful, "I get too distracted or impatient, and then ruin it so I pretty much eat takeout or microwaveable."

The look of slight horror on his face makes me laugh, "How are you like still alive?"

"I don't know really," I shrug.

We go back to finishing the movie as I eat my food. I can't get myself to refocus as my mind wanders to the boy beside me. I can't help but be curious about him. I did some googling after our first meeting and I know we are the same age but I also know he has been playing hockey professionally since he was 14. He's now here at 18 in a big city kind of alone and that seems like a tough feat.

As the movie ends I take it as my opportunity to interrogate him a little, "So how do you like Chicago so far?"

The question seems to catch him off guard a little but he responds, "I really like the city actually, been a little weird being on my own but I'll get used to it."

"Have you made any buddies on the team?" I ask.

"I mean I'm getting along with everyone great but most of the guys are older," He shrugs.

"So what have you been doing when you aren't at practice?"

"I've had some media I have to do but for the most part if I don't have team practice I'm practicing on my own. The few hours I have at home I just like to kind of sit around," he says like it's completely normal.

My heartaches a little knowing he has been sitting in his apartment alone even if he says he enjoys it, "Connor you need to get out and meet people!"

He shakes his head, "Nah, I like the quiet and I'm kind of awkward."

"Don't you ever get lonely?" I ask.

"Every now and then but uh it's not bad," he explains.

"Ok look let's make a deal, next time you get bored or lonely or just want to get out of the apartment, knock on my door or text me," I say sitting up to grab my phone.

"You don't need to do that," he says as I hand him my phone to put his number in.

"If it makes you feel better tell yourself you are doing it for me, I get so bored and I hate being alone," I say trying to convince him.

He contemplates for a second before saying "Okay," typing his number into my phone and sending himself a text.

"Yay," I say with a smile, "Connor I think this is the start of a great friendship.

[99corentine]

How To Write Good by Corentine

THE DRAFTING PROCESS, PART 2/2

Writing guide continued! Here's PART ONE.

STEP THREE: THE START, THE END, THE BEATS

I’m of the opinion that every story should start with a bang. You could start mid-way through a notable event, as seen in GHD:

- O L H A - D - V - The words, incomprehensible, rattle around his head like the last rumbles of a great thunderstorm. Then, much like after a storm has passed, the air suddenly feels clearer, sharper. A sludgy fog he didn’t even realise he was in clears from his mind and he blinks, confused. The first thing he sees is his own hands.

If you want it to be especially punchy, you can start with a line of dialogue or a short sentence, like I did for T4T:

CHAPTER ONE: It is the end.

It’s reeeally easy to lose readers at the start, so you always want to write a strong opener. Something that grabs the reader by the collar and drags them in to read the rest of the chapter.

You don’t need to have all the details, but you should have at least a vague idea of how the story ends. If you’re writing fanfic that follows along the same plot as a game or existing story, most of the legwork is done for you – so writing GHD, I planned for it to end when Alduin was killed. As I got further into the story, I came up with a more narratively satisfying ending, because it’s okay if the ending changes. As long as you have an ending in mind, you have something to work towards.

So GHD’s original, very basic plot was:

START – the Last Dragonborn wakes up with total amnesia

???

He saves Miraak

???

They kill Alduin together – END 

Now you have to map out those ??? parts by deciding the major beats of the story, i.e. notable scenes. This gives you something to work towards other than the ending. I ended up with notes like these:

START – the Last Dragonborn wakes up with total amnesia

Who is he? Don’t spend too much time on this, not important, can be answered later

Goes to Solstheim, meets Miraak

Finds a way to communicate with Miraak – sneaks into Apocrypha? Shares dreams? College of Winterhold has psijiics, use telepathy?

Finds a way to save Miraak

Go to Apocrypha, confront Hermaeus Mora, save Miraak

They look for ways to kill Alduin together

Hermaeus Mora comes for them

Prolonged recovery, tells reader that even ‘redeemed’ Miraak is still scary

They kill Alduin together

What happens after Alduin?

(Redacted for spoiler purposes) – END 

The story beats should ebb and flow like the tide; high-octane scenes should be followed by periods of calm. You don’t want to do this too quickly or the story will feel like whiplash; rather this is a process that happens over many chapters. Let’s look at some examples in GHD:

⇈⇈ Miraak dominates telepathy and is really scary!! ⇊⇊ Chry wanders around Skyrim doing errands and Thinking About Life… ⇈⇈ Chry breaks Miraak out of Apocrypha!!  ⇊⇊ They recover from the ordeal and have a honeymoon period… ⇈⇈ They go to Blackreach and it’s visually awesome, and also Chry gets jealous!! ⇊⇊ They do misc stuff for a while… ⇈⇈ They talk to Septimus Signus, Mora shows up, nearly kills Chry!! ⇊⇊ Miraak whisks Chry away somewhere to recover in peace…

You see what I mean?

Right, you know roughly what’s going to happen. Time to turn that into words, baby!

STEP FOUR: GOTTA START WRITING

My actual writing style is its own separate topic so I’m not going to tell you how I structure a sentence or anything, just my literal writing process. 

In my chapter document, I start by making a bullet-point list of everything I want to happen in the chapter. What happens can, and probably will, change as you actually get the chapter down. That’s fine, you just need a starting point.

I very rarely write individual chapters in order, as in start to finish. Rather, I tend to write the scenes I can picture clearly in my head – then by the time I’ve written those I’m in a writing groove and the gaps in the rest of the chapter will come easier. When I’m done, I’ll stitch the individual scenes together, which sometimes requires altering the scene start or end to make the whole thing more cohesive.

There are times when the writer’s block takes me, and I have like two finished scenes and just cannot summon the words for the rest of the chapter. When this happens, to be honest, the only answer I’ve found is brute force: I sit myself in front of the computer, get rid of phone/alt tabs/other distractions, and force myself to type something. Or I hold myself hostage (i.e. ‘I am not allowed to play more Baldur’s Gate 3 until I have written GHD chapter 47’) that works too, for me anyway. 

Whatever it takes to get something on paper. What’s mostly important is to get something written, even if it’s not very good. You can always edit, rephrase or even rewrite sections later. Usually I’ve found once you start writing, you get into a groove and then it’s no longer a chore.

I also aim for a certain word count / chapter length while writing. I know a chapter is exactly as long as it needs to be and blah blah, but I set myself a minimum wordcount to reach. Or if I go way over the word count it’s probably because I’ve waffled too much, so I either aim to split the chapter into two, or to ruthlessly edit it back down again. 

For GHD I average 7,000 - 9,000 words, but I actually think that’s a bit too long and risks losing people’s attention span, so for T4T I aim lower, about 6,000-ish. Less is perfectly fine, but if I’m reading another fic I find a chapter length of 2,000 words or lower to be disappointingly short. That’s all personal preference of course, and certain fics will lend themselves better to shorter chapters.

Although I jump around scenes within each chapter, I make a point of writing my entire chapters in chronological order. If I’m on chapter 5, and I know something awesome happens in chapter 12, it’s imperative that I do not write chapter 12 ahead of time. If I do, I’ll reeeally struggle to write chapters 6-11, because I have already rewarded my brain by writing the cool thing. If I hold off, my enthusiasm to write chapter 12 may in fact motivate me to crank out chapters 6-11 in record time.

I do have one other thing – in my Scrivener projects I always have a document called ‘Unused’. Sometimes, usually at like 2AM when sleep has failed me, I’ll get a really good idea for some dialogue or description. I scribble it down somewhere (or it will be forgotten for sure) and later I type it into my Unused document, so it’s just filled with random bits of text like this (note, everything you see here is unused, so it's not going to feature in the last chapter of GHD):

At some point in time I’ll peruse it and think ‘yes, this line!!’ and drop it into a future chapter – again though I just write bits, not entire scenes or I’ll have written all the exciting parts already. Anything I edit out of a chapter (i.e. a paragraph I liked but didn’t quite fit) gets dropped here too, in case I can reuse it later.

STEP FIVE: FINAL EDITING

I will be honest, I’m pretty impatient. Once I’ve finished a chapter, especially if it’s one I’ve been struggling with for a long time, I want to publish it now. So I’m guilty of not editing as thoroughly as I should – but this is what I usually do and it catches at least most of my mistakes:

As a first step, I copy-paste the chapter from Scrivener into google docs. Remember I said Scriv’s word processor wasn’t the best? Yeah, it’s no good at picking up on dodgy grammar, but google docs is, so I run it through there and skim-check for wiggly blue lines, then make the changes in Scriv. You may not have this issue if you’re using Word or another more comprehensive software

In my great excitement, I publish the new chapter to AO3. As I re-read the chapter over there, I see a minimum of 5 glaring errors I somehow didn’t spot in the previous steps, and hastily correct them before anyone notices.

Once I know the grammar is mostly fixed, I run it through a text to speech software to read it back to me (surprisingly Microsoft Edge has quite a good one built in called 'Read Aloud'). You'd be surprised how many mistakes you pick up this way. I’m looking for whatever google didn’t catch, wonky phrasing, repetition (i.e. I used the word ‘quickly’ twice in the space of two paragraphs, that sort of thing)

Sometimes I do a re-read with a fresh pair of eyes, anywhere from hours to days later. If I have the patience, of course...

I like to get at least the first 2-3 chapters of a brand new story written before I post anything to AO3. This is to make sure my enthusiasm doesn’t immediately wane and I actually stand a chance of finishing it. After that I’m rarely more than a chapter ahead of what’s been posted, because go figure I’ll post the newly-written chapter once the editing is done, then start on the next one.

Some people won’t even post a story at all until they have the first draft fully written. This is admirable, but not always realistic – GHD is like 375,000 words, you think I would’ve sat down and written all that before posting chapter one and even knowing if anyone would read it? Hell no. 

But while you don’t need a story to be fully written, you do need it to be decently mapped-out. I used to start fics with absolutely no idea where they were going to go; I’d finish 1 or 2 chapters, get really excited at writing that much and hungry for feedback, then post something that I would inevitably lose all enthusiasm for and leave unfinished.

So, know how it starts, know how it ends, and know the story beats in between so you always have a goal to write towards. There will inevitably be fics that you never finish and that’s fine – it’s all writing practice – but readers don’t like to be left hanging, so try your best to finish! Even if it takes ahem four years or so.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐

And there you go, that’s my writing process! I’m not sure how useful that really is, but if it was I could write more guides in future? I have…

A guide to my writing style (this one might be hard to put into a guide but people like my turn of phrase so, maybe useful?)

How I write a sex scene

How I write a fight scene.

[homestuckreplay]

> WV: Invent Canscription.

(page 718-721)

If you journeyed into a mysterious bunker, and then found from a cryptic and powerful computer that in four hours and thirteen minutes a mysterious fate would befall you and/or the place you’re hiding out, what would you do? Would you leave immediately, for self preservation? Or would you make the most of every minute you have to stay out of the desert sun, drink a bunch of free soda and play pretend games?

WV has the right idea. They’ve even invented a few new cans for themself (p.719) – pickles, bamboo shoots, radishes, seaweed, artichokes, and a hat, which is definitely an empty can on some sort of base. I think it’d be really cute if HAT was part of a longer word on the can, similar to how WV turned MAYO into MAYOR, but the best I can come up with is CHATEAUBRIAND, and I honestly don’t see WV as a fancy steak kind of person.

Today’s page is a short but very fast paced animation of the Wayward Vagabond completely losing track of time, playing chess against themself and winning, interspersed with flights of fancy about Can Stuff. It’s good. They’re still guzzling cans of Tab, probably becoming more and more caffeinated, which accounts for the fast pace and the jaunty ‘Vagabounce’ theme. However, it’s much harder to notice everything that’s happening when the images flash by so fast, even on multiple watches – I had to take screencaps to really get some of the details. And I’m glad I did because the moment when a can of Tab goes ‘vroom’ as it rides down Can Blvd is a delight.

What I really want to do is slow this down to ¼ speed, write down all the moves WV makes, and figure out if they’re actually good at chess. I’ll probably do this later in the week – if chess is synonymous with war in Homestuck, then figuring out WV’s skill level at chess could hint at how much combat training they have and what their role in the war might have been.

WV’s part of the story is absolute tonal whiplash. Homestuck is this in general, but it feels more blatant with WV. On page 711 the narrator says, ‘It's not like emptying a can kills it or anything. They are just cans after all.’ as part of a beautiful statement of the radical inclusivity of Can Town, an idyllic place ‘based on mutual respect between the leader and its people’ where ‘everyone is friendly and happy’ (p.686). And then on page 720, the residential and commercial zones for up and coming young cans become an army training ground as all cans are forcibly drafted into the military by their ostensibly democratic leader, engaging in what feels more like a civil war than a training exercise since there’s really nothing to defend against.

My theory, right now, is that WV is trying to overcome their programming. As a Sburb NPC, ideas like seeing the chessboard as the only logical pattern, believing that a community will always militarize, and the forces of darkness winning an eventual conflict, are all literally coded into WV’s design. The whimsy, the imagination, the love of a color that isn’t black or white, the interest in democracy, are unique to WV and are signs of a real consciousness. The sudden shifts in their focus and in the tone of these pages represent the shifts back and forth between these states of mind. The firefly encased in amber, which WV seems to have become attached to, represents who they want to become – its golden glow echoes the luminous planet, where they’d like to be, instead of the ominous planet they’re trying to escape.

Also ‘free up all the canpower’ and ‘your forces will be a well oiled machine’ (p.720) are both excellent puns. Yeah those cans are well oiled alright.

[whopperflower-will]

Never Miss the Details | Clorinde x Navia

VERY short first post (530 words)

Navia accidentally makes a roleplay script for the Tabletop Troupe a bit too personal…

Written by Windblumez (@whopperflower-will)

“A new script?” Clorinde asked, thumbing through the pages of the booklet Navia had handed her with a bright smile that felt like summertime sunshine.

“Mhm,” Navia nodded, leaning forward in her seat and watching the script. Her eyes fluttered from page to page. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about being the game master for this one but I knew you definitely wouldn’t want to be a player.”

Clorinde’s strict focus then shifted to stare at Navia, who quickly received Clorinde’s gaze with her own eyes. Setting down the script on the tea table, Clorinde asked, “why? Why wouldn’t I want to be a player? Does it have something to do with my occupation?”

Navia chuckled nervously, pulling a piece of hair away from her mouth. Since she was leaning over her sat-down friend, her hair kept falling into her face, losing the natural, perfect frame it usually kept around her cheeks. “Well… kind of.”

“Kind of?” One of Clorinde’s eyebrows quirked up comically, forming an expression one doesn’t normally see on such a stoic face.

“I know you usually don’t like to play any characters that are written to be intimidating. About how you don’t want to scare off the other players or whatever…”

Clorinde picked back up the script to continue looking through it. “From what I gathered… it’s a classic fantasy story. The type you’d see in Inazuman light novels. Save the princess, stop the bad guy… oh.”

She realized there was another character written into the scripts: a mysterious figure who kept frequently to the shadows and upheld the justice of Fontaine.

“…Having romantic sentiments towards the princess? This really does read like an Inazuman light novel. Well, Hubel’s shop did recently get a bunch of new releases after all, so I suppose it makes sense…” Clorinde muttered to herself in contemplation while Navia’s cheeks started turning beet red.

“Uhm…” Navia chuckled nervously, reaching out to close the script in Clorinde’s hands. “I forgot I added that very minor detail in there. I must’ve written some of it while sleep-deprived. That was my first draft after all.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, let’s just…” Navia tried to pull the booklet out of Clorinde’s hands, but the Champion Duelist stayed put.

“No, it’s well-written and beautifully thought-out. I would be honored to be the game master for such a script. I’ll find a suitable group to play it with,” Clorinde explained, pulling the booklet away from Navia’s small attempts to grab at it.

And so the next week when Clorinde met up with Navia for tea, Navia had to control her blush as Clorinde went on and on about the detailed actions that occurred in the roleplay. She had clearly not expected Clorinde to take it all that far…

“Yes, and so the roleplayers all found the idea of the relationship quite cute. They set them up on dates at tea parties, not far different from the ones we have now.”

“Oh! Well… uh… that’s great, Clorinde! Uhm…”

Navia would have to ask later whether or not Clorinde thought this was a date or not. It was simply tough luck that Clorinde was such a hard person to read.

[thinkpink212]

A life update

The summer started out with lots of rain, a new job at a museum where I get to work with crystals, cool books, butterflies and just an overall gorgeous environment. I quit from my massage job after they played one too many times in my face — long story short, I was being overworked despite protest, had immature colleagues with conflict resolution issues, incompetent employers and just not enough pay. Gave up for a while on the idea of opening up my own massage place due to how expensive it can be to rent a place. Eventually my birthday came around, tears were she’d, laughs were had. Managed to read 14+ books at this point (on book 17 now) and a week later my roommate tells me she’s convinced her boyfriend to move in, so I have to move out. No thoughts were put towards me so I have till end of august to be out, which broke me but after a good cry and some slandering to friends and family, I’ve calmed down and am actively searching for a new home. I realized I’d asked the universe for a new place to live after realizing just how dirty, inconsiderate and just overly unpleasant it was to live with this girl, to show me a new way, bring me a new home. So, looking at it all with newfound optimistic eyes. It’s still unsettling and nerves wrecking, I have moved 13 times now and you can imagine a girl is tired. But no more shitty roommates, no more unfortunate situation. I will find my home soon. With dreams of finding my own place, studying next year (Fall start) and writing a book, I have loads on my plate. Being busy feels nice but I’m still working on tweaking the perfect schedule for myself so I can do it all. I was ready to give up on opening my own studio, but after announcing to my #1 loyal costumer it was my second to last week, he offered helping me with guidance, website, taxes etc setups as he’s a seasoned entrepreneur (and has helped many). His enthusiasm and encouragement relit that fire and I thought ‘yeah, why not have it all?’

By the end of 2024, I will be a business owner (part time), have my own apartment, have finished my 1st draft and glowed up to levels beyond my imagination. And next year, I’ll have finished my book and started on the sequel, been accepted into University, have a booming business and continue to thrive! never give up never what, NEVER BACK DOWN! hope you’re all doing well, hope this was a bit of a motivator. Life will have its upset and downs, so please don’t give up. Step away and take everything in shorter strides. You can and will have it all, if that’s what you desire.

Xo Thinkpink