#thank you all for being patient while I wrote this and now in the editing process

[mymindisneverhere]

Just Keep Breathing

Summary: Terry teaches you some important breathing techniques. 

warnings: 18+ (MDNI!), SMUT, anxiety, stage fright, drunk sex, unprotected sex, talking you through it, use of the n-word (barely), dirty talking (forgive me if I missed any)

a/n: I wrote this at 4 in the morning cause I couldn’t sleep and I barely edited it chile. Enjoy!

Now back to writing Favors, Pt. 6 will be up in a few days! 🩵

You held onto your chest as you tried your hardest to catch your breath. Your mind was racing, so many thoughts were happening all at once. You felt a migraine sit in the back of your head and slowly begin to spread throughout your temple. You shook almost as if it were freezing where you were but the temperature was just fine. Another anxiety attack… 

It had been months since the last time you felt this way. You had picked up on a few tools and techniques that helped you to bring your anxiety down to zero when you felt it build in your nervous system. Along with the techniques, you had your boyfriend who did an amazing job at helping you stay grounded. Terry was patient and understanding, there was never a moment where he made you feel like your situation was too much for him. 

“Breathe baby, just breathe.” He coached you through this moment. 

You were preparing to perform your poem for the first time in two years. You fell in love with poetry as a teenager with help from your favorite English teacher who introduced you to different types of poetry and famous poets. Poetry was your way of expressing your innermost feelings, especially when you couldn’t find the strength to say them out loud. 

There were two people ahead of you, you still had plenty of time to ground yourself. You still had plenty of time to bring your mind into the present moment and stop worrying about the future because the future didn’t exist. 

“Inhale for four seconds, hold for seven, exhale for eight.” Terry walked you through one of the breathing techniques you learned from him. “I’ll breathe with you.” 

You did exactly what he told you to do, inhaling and exhaling at the same time as him. You looked up at him as you continued focusing on your breathing, completely unconcerned with the stage fright that had consumed you a few minutes ago. He stared down at you, having you repeat the technique until he could sense a calmness wash over your face. 

Your body began to relax as you continued breathing. Your heart rate returned to normal, your headache slowly began to fade and your body was back to its resting state. Closing your eyes for a few seconds, grateful that you had him by your side, you opened them slowly and looked up at him. 

“I think I’m okay.” You said, letting him know that he can free himself of the worry he had for you. 

“You sure?” He asked. He wasn’t trying to push you into doing something you weren’t comfortable with doing. All you had to do was say the word and he’d get you home where you felt safe and secure. Just the two of you. 

But you needed to face your biggest fear. Being seen in the spotlight, displaying your talents while allowing yourself to be completely vulnerable in front of an auditorium full of strangers. 

“I’m fine baby, honestly.” You smiled, watching his expression soften. “Thank you.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too!” He placed a soft kiss on your forehead as you prepared to go on stage. 

“Next up we have, (reader) coming to the mic.” The host announced. The crowd snapped as you walked onto the stage. You slowly walked to the microphone that sat on the stand. You sent a silent thank you to the creator above, grateful that it was already at the right height for you. Fondling with the mic stand would’ve sent you down another spiral and there was no time for that. 

Snaps filled the room as you thanked the crowd before disappearing backstage. Once you were completely out of the audience's view, you ran to Terry, jumping into his arms. He spun you around as you held onto his neck, legs wrapped around his torso. You did it! You had finally faced your biggest fear and you did it with no mess ups, no stuttering, no overthinking. It was almost as if the joy you gained from writing took over during your performance. There was no room for jitters when your passion was the only thing driving you during the few minutes you spent on stage. 

“I’m so proud of you!” Terry exclaimed, still holding onto you, squeezing you tightly as you laughed in his ear. 

“That was so fun, I wanna do it again.” You sounded like a kid, getting the chance to engage in the “big kid” activities for the very first time in life. 

After what seemed like a few minutes of you two embracing one another, you were placed on the ground again. Other contestants gave you well wishes and good jobs as they passed by, some who had already performed and others preparing for their performances. 

“I found two seats up front.” Terry said, grabbing your hand and leading you into the audience. 

You sat in the crowd listening to the other poets and man were they phenomenal. The passion that exuded as they shared their art, the emotions that filled the room as they spoke into mics. You were slowly beginning to shrink into your seat, already accepting your loss for the night. 

‘At least I faced my fears, that’s a win to me.’ You thought to yourself, preparing to lose so that it wouldn’t hit as hard when it finally became reality. Terry reached down and placed a soft hand on your leg, it had been bouncing for the past five minutes now. Your anxiety was getting to you once again. 

Thoughts of not being good enough, wishing you had worded it differently, paused a bit more for dramatic effect. Or maybe you paused too much and that made it seem artificial. The thoughts were consuming you as each contestant came and went. 

“Now the winners of the 2024 Fall Aggie City Poetry Slam.” 

The third place winner was announced, a young girl in her early twenties. She went up on the stage and accepted her award, smiling from ear to ear. So you didn’t get third place, second and first were still open but they seemed too good to be true. You could settle for second and be 100% okay with it. 

The second place winner was announced, a middle aged man who seemed too cool for a poetry slam. He accepted his award, straight face, a quick thank you and hurried off the stage and back to his seat. You looked down at your hands, accepting your defeat before it came. Terry looked over at you noticing your energy shift but kept quiet. Even though you were accepting your potential loss, he knew it wasn’t over just yet. They still had one more winner to announce and although your faith in yourself was slim to none, he decided to carry the majority of it for you. 

“The winner of our 2024 Aggie City Poetry Slam. The grand prize goes to…

(Readers name)!” 

You sat unmoved, so disassociated from your reality, you hadn’t heard your name be called. It wasn’t until Terry called you by your nickname.  

“Baby girl!” You heard his voice loudly right next to you. 

Your head shot up as you looked over at him, total shock took over your expression. You looked around the room as the audience stood, clapping and smiling while looking at you. 

“Ms. (Readers Name), come and get your trophy girl!” The host announced into the mic. 

You stood so overwhelmed with emotion, you immediately reached over to hug your boyfriend. He had to remind once again to get your prize because he knew you’d hold onto him for as long as you could. You let him go and hurried to the stage, excitement written all over your face. 

You carefully took the trophy and looked down at it to take it all in. You didn’t know if you were supposed to give a speech or say simple thank you so you decided to keep it short and sweet. 

“Thank you all so much, this means the world to me.” You said, a large smile on your face. You walked to the end of the stage already noticing Terry with his hand out, helping you down the stage one step at a time. You held onto his hand once you hit the floor and walked out of the auditorium. Many ‘thank yous’ left your lips as you passed the audience, congratulating and complimenting you on your spoken word. 

“We can go wherever you wanna go baby girl, my treat.” Terry said, taking the trophy out of your hand as he noticed you struggling to hold it. As excited as you were to win your first poetry slam and come in first place at that, you had to admit that trophy that was damn near the same size as you. 

“Let’s go to Dave and Busters! I wanna play, eat, then drink and finally go home!” You smiled, remembering one of your favorite arcades was just down the street from where you were. 

“Let’s go.” Terry placed the trophy carefully in the backseat before jumping into the driver's seat and heading to D&B’s. 

The two of you were like teenagers again. There wasn’t a game you didn’t play together. From basketball, to flappy bird, to the dancing games, he made sure to make this trip to Dave and Busters worth your while. 

After an hour of playing games and taking cute pictures in the photo booth, you guys sat down and enjoyed a nice meal and some drinks. 

You were still off of the high from your win, you went a bit overboard with the drinks. What was usually a limit of two drinks maximum, you were already on your fourth margarita. You were definitely a lightweight so four drinks was really pushing it. 

“That’s the last one for the night baby, I don’t want you getting too wasted.” He grabbed the glass and brought it to his side of the table. Terry didn’t want to cut you off from drinking because you were enjoying yourself and you deserved to have as many drinks as you choose, you were a poetry queen. But as the drinks went down, so did your eyes. 

Your gaze slowly changed from playful and excited to lustful and seductive. The way your eyes refused to leave his sent him a message your lips wouldn’t quite be able to due to your condition. But there was no need to worry because he got the message loud and clear. 

“Mmhmmm, fuck this pussy daddy.” You were completely under a liquor spell that had you talking reckless to your man. Unlike you, he only had two drinks because he was the driver for the night. Also because he knew how you were when you were a bit ‘lit’. Who knew the same lips that uttered beautiful pantoums, turning emotions into art would utter such filthy demands all within the same 24 hours. 

“You feel that dick baby girl?” His body weight damn near had you sinking into the bed. Flat on your stomach, your eyes were barely open as he dug into you from behind, rolling his hips hitting every inch of your walls. 

“I feel it daddy, it’s so big!” You cried. You tried your hardest to hold your head up so you could feel his lips against your neck while he talked you through it. Even after the years y’all had been together, adjusting to his size was still a process for you. 

“Don’t run from this dick, take this shit.” You wanted to do just that but it was becoming harder and harder by the second. His arms were wrapped under yours, holding you in place, ensuring that you felt all of him as deep as he wanted you to feel it. He wanted the tip of his dick to kiss your cervix, triggering all of your creaminess to paint it, because you deserved it. 

You could feel yourself digging deeper into his rhythm, unable to hold it in any longer. “Yes yes yes!” Your eyes rolled into your head as he continued digging deeper and deeper as you released onto him. 

“That’s it baby, let daddy have it.” He said, sending more juices flowing out of you, never interrupting his rhythm. “Just like that.” He kissed you as he continued stroking in and out of you. He wasn’t letting up until your body collapsed in his arms and even then he still had enough energy to get another one out of you. 

Sitting up on his knees, he pulled out and grabbed your hips, flipping you onto your back. He yanked you closer to him causing a small yelp to leave your lips. He placed your feet onto his shoulders and pushed right back into you so easily before leaning forward to come as close to your face as possible. 

He hadn’t even started stroking yet and you were already crying out again from the feeling of his thick dick filling you up completely from this position. He stared down at you admiring your love faces, the way your eyebrows bent as he slowly pulled out of you only leaving the tip and pushing back into you until his balls pressed up against your ass. 

His strokes were slow and deep, rubbing up against your g-spot each time he entered you. You tried to look him in his eyes but they were piercing through you, he was a bit intimidating in this moment. No matter if you tried to move or move him, it would be a complete fail. He had you exactly how you wanted you and there was nothing you could do about it. 

The sounds of your wetness making a mess on his dick filled the room. You could feel your pussy growing wetter by the second. “You gone cum again for me baby girl?” His eyes were glued to you as you struggled to find the words to answer him. His long, deep strokes had your body reacting so wildly, your lips couldn’t utter any words in the moment.

“Talk to me baby.” 

“I c-can’t.” You finally answered, tossing your head left and right as he continued stroking into you, gradually speeding up the pace. He placed his hand next to your head as his body weight pushed your legs closer to your ears, allowing him to go even deeper than he was before. 

“You not gone talk to me?” He was taunting you. He knew exactly what he was doing. There was no way you would be able to find the words if he was gonna keep fucking you like this. He sped up the pace a little more, digging in and out of you like he had something to prove. Like you didn’t already know what he was capable of. His strokes weren’t too fast but the way he was hitting your spot and then some over and over again caused you to take in a deep breath without letting it out. Your mouth fell open as your eyes began to cross, this pleasure was way too much to be trying to focus on words. “Breathe baby.” 

You gathered as much strength as you could as your eyes opened and landed on him as he inched closer to your face. Mouth slightly parted, his lips brushed against yours. “Breathe with me.” He placed a soft kiss on your bottom lip. He was still so patient with you even as he ruined you. “In and out, together.” 

You did just as he said. The two of you inhaled together and exhaled together, gradually falling into the same rhythm. This nigga and his breathing techniques. He’d build you up just to have you fall apart then repeat. 

You continued breathing with him, this instant unison sent a strong feeling to your gut. He was stimulating too many parts of your body all at once. Your eyes widened a bit as you felt your orgasm coming full force. “Keep breathing baby.” He kissed your lips once again, then your cheek and landed on your neck all while maintaining his stroke. “Good job baby, in and out.” His voice directly in your ear was the icing on the cake. 

You stared up at the ceiling as all of your inner focus was centered right at your center. Your breathing became louder as he did his. “Ughh!” Was all you could manage as your legs began to shake, your walls pulsated around him causing him to curse into your ear. 

“Oh my god yes!” You screamed loudly, completely unconcerned about your neighbors and anyone else surrounding the outside of your apartment. “Fuck, I’m right there baby, just keep breathing.” He pumped into you as he grunted, releasing everything he had directly into you. Even after your orgasm, he was still stroking, totally emptying himself into you. You may as well have been his personal cumbucket. You let out another loud moan, as a tear formed in the corner of your eye. 

After a few more pumps he stilled his movements. His head buried into your neck as you felt his warm breath against your skin. Both of you breathing heavily as you felt the effects of your powerful orgasms. You stared up at the ceiling, fighting to keep your eyes open as you wanted so badly to fall into a deep sleep. 

Finally coming back to himself, Terry placed kisses along your jaw and on your cheek. He stared down at you as he reached up to wipe the tear that had fallen from your face. “I’m proud of you baby girl.” He said, placing one last kiss on your lips. 

“Thank you.” You barely whispered, throat dry from all of the breathing you were doing. 

“I love you.” He said, still placing kisses on your lips. 

“I love you too.” 

[just-a-little-cellist]

Hey its me who asked for your The Unexpected Guest, and it was brilliant! I love the idea of part 2 it makes more sense!

I loved your idea of once they get to Rivendell Thorins and readers feelings are explored and some spicy stuff happens

Thank you, and love your work!☺️x

(I'm really glad you enjoyed it! I'm really sorry for the wait for part 2 - uni work, work work and writer's block are not a great combo and I didn't want to rush this (this part also got WAY longer than I thought it would), plus I've made some minor edits to part 1 since I wasn't totally happy with it - been a hot minute since I wrote smut so I hope this is ok :D thank you all for being so patient and I hope you enjoy!!)

(link for part 1 - warning for NSFW content below, oral (m receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it))

ghivashel - treasure of all treasures, amralime - my love

An Unexpected Guest pt.2 (Thorin x AFAB!fem!human!reader)

The journey to Rivendell was taxing on all of you, though you couldn't help but feel most sorry for Bilbo. The hobbit was so new to adventuring - you doubted he had ever been out of the Shire before now - and you had decided to support him wherever you could as a helping hand. Just helping him set up camp, saddling his pony in the morning, offering him water, little gestures seemed to make a difference in his demeanor.

Spending time with the hobbit to keep his morale up, especially after the troll attack, did mean that it was getting harder to find a spare moment with Thorin. The two of you had spoken much more frequently since his confession, and you wished for more time, but the whole group was in poor spirits as it was. While they were all happy for you, public displays of affection were just likely to irritate everyone further. And Thorin's burden of leadership would likely not be eased while you were still on the road. For the moment, all you could do was keep moving and offer comfort to whoever needed it.

Needless to say, arriving at Rivendell was a weight off your shoulders. Even if the dwarves tried to pick a fight with Elrond.

You had all taken your time to settle in and relax, having taken full advantage of the elves' hospitality (and you were forever grateful for being able to feel clean after the long journey). When the group of you were provided with dinner and the inevitable food fight broke out, you were happy to see how everyone's spirits had been lifted. However, you couldn't help but notice your One stood to the side. There was a content smile on his face, but you could easily see the tension that still bristled through him.

You soon found him after everybody had retreated to their rooms for the night. It was hard not to hear him - the pacing in his room seemed to echo through the hallway, if only slightly. Raising your hand, you softly knocked at the door, hoping that he wouldn't be too stubborn to talk to you.

"Come in."

Even his tone of voice betrayed his stress. He visibly relaxed when you entered the room though, shutting the door behind you, and you felt glad to at least be some comfort.

You smiled in greeting, and spoke softly. "Will you tell me what's going on with you?"

"I assure you, I am fine. Do not trouble yourself."

You closed the distance between you hesitantly, giving him the chance to back away, and took his hands. "Please, Thorin. I can see something is troubling you."

"I am just... concerned. About the future of this quest, about everyone's safety." You saw a struggle in his mind of not wanting to be vulnerable, but he seemed to give in, and sighed in defeat. "I fear that people are going to be hurt because of me."

"Oh, my love..." you breathed, pressing your forehead to his. "You are the best leader any of us could ask for, and I promise you that you will not be the cause of any hurt."

He gently pulled back and looked into your eyes. "You truly believe that?"

"Of course I do. Those in this company are strong and intelligent. Perhaps with the exception of your nephews," you chuckled, and Thorin couldn't help but smile. "They are all capable of making their own decisions. They knew the risks of coming along, but they have all chosen to join anyway because they saw a courageous dwarf that they wanted to follow."

"I only want to do right by my people."

"And you will. We all have faith in you."

He pressed his forehead to yours again. "You're far too good to me, ghivashel," he murmured.

"All I want is for you to be happy, my love."

And with that, you tilted your head up and kissed him, your fingers tracing his cheekbones as you pulled him closer. It wasn't rushed and clumsy, as it was when Thorin first confessed, but slow and loving, every movement of your lips against his a confession of love in itself. His hands found their way to your waist and pulled you flush against him, trying to feel as much of you as possible.

When you separated to take a breath, meeting his lust-filled gaze was all the encouragement you needed.

"I wonder if there's any way I could relieve some of your stress..." Your tone was playful as you slid your hands achingly slowly down Thorin's chest, and you heard him inhale as you stopped just at his hips.

"Amralime, are you sure? If we start I will not want to hold back."

"I trust you, Thorin." You smiled and nodded towards the double bed. "And we may as well take advantage of the luxury while we have it."

He smirked. "I'm beginning to think you came here just to bed me."

"Hey, I would never-"

Your sarcastic reply was cut off by him kissing you again, with a desperation you hadn't seen from him before. Maybe you had awakened something long kept under control, but any coherent thought of that was soon lost when he shrugged the furs off his shoulders and his fingers found the hem of your shirt.

Soon becoming restless feeling him trace the curves of your waist, you broke away from the kiss just long enough to tug your shirt off. Thorin did the same, and after some hurried fumbling between more stolen kisses, you were both undressed. His hands never left your body as he backed you up towards the bed.

"You are so beautiful, ghivashel..." he murmured, lips trailing along your jawline and down your neck. It was so easy to get lost in the sensation, but when he tried to sit you down on the bed, you stopped him.

"Tonight is about you, my love." You turned the two of you around and gently pushed him back to sit down, taking the time to admire his toned body as you knelt in front of him.

Thorin's eyes were wide with surprise and he almost looked as if he wanted to protest, but the twitch of his already hard cock gave him away.

"You... you don't have to-"

"I want to." His breath hitched when your lips traced his thigh, and you smiled. "Relax, my king..."

Any further protest was soon lost when you leaned forward and licked a long stripe up his length, wrenching a gasp from his lips. Your movements were slow, mapping out every inch of him with kitten licks until he was writhing impatiently before you, until you were done teasing and sucked his tip into your mouth.

The room was filled with the sounds of breathy groans and muttered Khuzdul that you could barely focus on as you continued. Thorin twisted his fingers into your hair when you began taking him inch by inch into your mouth - his grip was firm, but never controlling - and when you started bobbing your head he was certain that he must've been dreaming.

Looking up at him and pressing your thighs together to suppress your own arousal, you watched his head tilt back in ecstasy every time you pressed your tongue flat against his tip when you rose. The sounds he made were so beautiful that it was becoming more and more difficult to control yourself. Fortunately, it seemed you wouldn't need to for much longer. You felt the tension in his body increase with every bob of your head, every swipe of your tongue, and as your movements grew faster you wrapped your hand around the base to stroke what you couldn't fit in your mouth. Yet, when you next looked up at him, he gently pushed you away, denying himself climax.

"Is everything alright, my love?"

He leant down for a brief kiss, still breathing heavily, and nodded. "That was... incredible." He took your hands and guided you to stand, then pulled you closer to straddle his lap.

"Then-" You inhaled sharply feeling his lips and teeth over your throat. "Then why didn't you let me finish?"

Thorin didn't answer for a moment, too busy creating a cluster of pink marks along your neck. When he was satisfied with his work, he tugged your hips down to press his hard length against you.

"Because I want to finish inside you, amralime."

You simply nodded, feeling too flustered and on edge to offer any sort of response beyond a whispered, "Please..."

Thorin stood up holding you, his lips continuing their assault on your neck, and carefully laid you down in the center of the bed. He slotted himself between your legs and wasted no time in moving to prepare you. Pausing to receive a nod of consent, he slid one thick finger into you, and you gasped at the sudden feeling. He soon added a second when you began rocking your hips against his hand impatiently, begging for more.

"Patience," he chuckled. "I do not want to hurt you."

"I don't care." You moaned breathlessly with every curl of his fingers. It felt like so much already, but still not enough. "I need you now, Thorin."

"Who would I be to deny my queen?"

He withdrew his fingers and you immediately pulled him forward to kiss you, a soft gasp being pulled from you when he ground his hips against you, ever so lightly pressing against your clit. Holding himself up over you with one hand, he used the other to guide his tip to your entrance and, swallowing your cries in the kiss, he slowly pushed into you.

His hand found yours and your fingers intertwined while he waited for any signs of your discomfort to fade. It was an uncomfortable stretch to fit his thick cock, but it soon became a welcome sensation, and you wrapped your legs around his waist to urge him on.

He moved carefully at first, until your cries of pain became cries of pleasure, and soon his hips snapped back against you much more firmly. Each thrust hit so deep inside of you, filling you up so perfectly, and his fingers gripped your hips almost tight enough to bruise. You clutched onto him tightly, trying to stay grounded amongst the sensations. One hand was buried in his hair, keeping his forehead pressed against yours, the other was digging into his back, leaving scratches that you were sure would last a few days at least. Though it didn't seem to bother him - every time you dug your nails into his back, it seemed to be encouragement, and he relentlessly kept up his pace. It was firm and deep, but never rough, though part of you wondered how hard he would go if you asked.

With each thrust, you bucked your hips to meet him, trying to get more friction to ignite the coil of heat growing in your core. Thorin's moans soon grew louder, despite him trying to remain as quiet as he could, and when his rhythm grew unsteady his fingers slipped down to circle your clit as his teeth latched onto your neck again.

"Ghivashel..." he murmured, his voice strained. "I'm so close..."

Your mind was spinning with pleasure, and you felt yourself reaching your peak as well. "I am too..." you panted.

His hips shifted just enough to hit a spot inside you to make you see stars, and along with the attention on your clit and your neck, it was enough to push you over the edge. Your grip on him tightened as the coil snapped and heat spread through your body, and you buried your face into the crook of his neck to muffle your cry of pleasure.

It seemed to last forever, and in your pleasure-filled haziness you registered Thorin also growing tense, and you heard his deep groan as he reached his climax and came inside of you. He felt so perfect, and you both stayed clinging onto each other, lost for breath, until you both came to.

Still catching his breath, he kissed your forehead and pulled out to lie next to you, and you couldn't help but whimper at the sudden emptiness.

He lay on his side, facing you, and brought your hand up to his lips. "You are so wonderful, amralime."

You smiled softly and shuffled closer, putting an arm over his waist and tucking your head under his. "So are you, my king."

You glanced back at the door to the room and chuckled.

"What is it?"

"Maybe we should lock the door next time."

[totalswag]

little starkey being besties with maddie cline and their always together on set

mini best friend — MADELYN CLINE

authors note thank you anon for this request, i hope you like what i wrote. just the thought of this made me so happy while writing because drew and maddie have such an amazing friendship. this is technically a madelyn cline fic/blurb btw. as for the other requests i have in my inbox, i will get to them as soon as i can. i do have a personal life outside of tumblr, please be patient. feedback is always appreciated.

summary bringing little tatum on set and maddie just can't wait to see her little best friend everytime she comes to visit.

warnings a whole lot of cuteness!!!!!

Outer Banks is filming their new season, Drew had some scenes to film and brought you and nine month old, Tatum, along to keep company and hang out with the other cast members. 

"Where is my littlest bestie?" Maddie asked as she entered Drew's trailer, her eyes wide with delight.

"She's right here," you said as you placed Tatum on the carpet so she could crawl over to Maddie, who was squatting down with her arms stretched out.

Tatum recently began to crawl, which indicates that she will start walking shortly. That girl is so fascinated about everything she sees, walking on two feet will be interesting for her.

She smiled and spoke in her baby language as she crept closer to Maddie. Tatum places her left hand on Maddie's knee, signaling her want to be carried up.

"She's getting so big," Maddie says, pouting as she picks up Tatum off the carpet, places her on her hip, and kisses the top of her head.

“I know, it’s sad,” you agreed.

“I just remember when you were a tiny itty baby in my arms and now you are growing up so fast, slow down girl” you can’t help but laugh at Maddie’s comment. 

Tatum just giggles. 

Tatum's godmother is Maddie. You and Drew made the decision way before Tatum was born since you three have a great relationship and you trust her with your child. Tatum adores Maddie– whenever she comes into the room, Tatum gets all excited and starts talking in her baby language. Their relationship is precious. Everyone adores their relationship.

Maddie was the first one to find out the gender before Drew and you. She hosted the gender reveal party at her home, which was absolutely breathtaking.  Maddie bawled her eyes out when she first met Tatum, who was wearing a onesie that stated "I love my godmother."

Tatum will want to stay in Maddie's arms as soon as she is in them whenever you go to the set to see Drew and hang out with the other cast members in general. Maddie doesn't mind being with Tatum the whole time; in fact, she enjoys it. They take videos and pictures together, which are eventually posted to Maddie's Instagram, but only with Drew's and your permission.

No matter where Maddie goes on set, Tatum is always with her. Plus, it’s good bonding time for the two. They’ll take naps together on the couch randomly. You swear they’ve met in another lifetime. 

Another time, Maddie had Tatum in her sunglasses while she was strapped in a carrier that wrapped around Maddie as she drove around in a golf cart. This happens quite a lot now as Tatum got older in months.

Fans make edits, post, and talk about how adorable Maddie and Tatum’s relationship is all the time on social media. Whenever fans bring up the two to Drew and you, all you guys can say is they are made for each other and there’s no stopping in separating them. 

Now, the rest of the cast get their time with the little Starkey. They enjoy spending their free time with her every second they get. They are her second family and she will eventually know that as she continues to grow up.

Drew and you always talk about how their own daughter loves her godmother more than her own parents as a joke but you know she loves you both. There’s going to be plenty of more times of Tatum and Maddie being together on set.

my taglist 🧚🏼‍♀️

@runningfrom2am @winterrrnight@brooklynscherry-z @kaydsr3venge @ikisscline

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if you would like to be added to my taglist please let me know :)

[cerezzzita]

🍓 ˖ . ᵎᵎ Confessions features Alcohol (Sometimes) ✦ Dante x gn!Reader

⌕ summary: Dante and alcohol could be like water and oil — under no circumstances should they mix. Yet, at that night, it seems he's up to something with that drunk, big mouth of his.

notes: my god I'm nervous asf. um, hi y'all, guess who's back at writing after almost full 5 months of hiatus? that's right, we're back in action! i finally finished this little, silly oneshot that was rotting in my docs for... 7 months? geez, me and my lazy ass. anyways! i hope you all enjoy the reading! i wrote this with 4dante in mind but honestly, it can be any Dante, it's up to your imagination <3

⋆ 08/07/23 edit: i forgot to mention, but this fic was born thanks to this writing prompt, i just couldn't found it easily hehe

♡ word count: 1.125

♡ tags: fluffy, gender-neutral reader, no use of pronouns or reader's appearance description (you/yours used only), mentions of alcohol, drunk Dante (and he's sooo soft), Dante might be ooc sorry in advance, love confessions.

ⓘ gif's not mine!!

Dante and alcohol could be like water and oil — under no circumstances should they mix. Truth be told, specifically that night was not one where you enjoyed a patient mood, especially with the drunken Devil Hunter lying on the worn leather sofa and every half minute calling you and even dropping occasional flirtations. You were now in the kitchen, dedicating yourself to washing a considerable amount of dishes while from the corner of your eye you watched Dante, posture still relaxed and with a smile easily more dancing than usual, making sure that he wouldn't do anything that would mean usual danger for a person guided by the lack of sense that alcohol usually provides. However, the brief thought swept out of your mind; it was Dante. The man had a natural, bizarre attraction to danger. 

That's when the handsome half-demon shook his head, his clear, icy-colored irises glazed over your back-to-back figure. Dante pouted for not getting the attention he wanted so much, then opened his mouth and verbalized his need.

"Babe," he began, loud enough that his voice scrambled from earlier hours' whiskey filled the short distance between them. You, however, sighed, determined to ignore him until he fell asleep from some miraculous, alcoholic effect.

Which was definitely not a good choice. Dante hated being ignored.

"Baaabe..."

"What is it now, Dante?" you answered over your teeth. He whimpered at such harshness.

"Don't be like that, loveee," he whined through his tone, "You're being a big meanie to me today, y'know that?"

"A meanie? Me?" your heels pivoted so that you were now facing him, one hand on your hips and your brow forming an arc of curiosity. "Why?"

Dante sipped the rest of a bottle of Jack Daniels, exhaling audibly at the end. Once again his typical smile grew at the corners of his mouth; you gulped, blinked and woke up to your somewhat glassy-eyed state attached in the Devil Hunter.

What exactly would it take for a man like Dante to be so attractive?

"Because I want attention," he replied, a simple retort that made the inside of your chest heave and your hand on your waist falter. Dante, although drunk, seemed to notice this act and widened the left corner of his feline smile even more. "And you're being a meanie 'cause you're not paying attention to me. Come here, sugar… I want smoochies."

At other times, you would chuckle and brush it off. It was common for you to deal with the half-demon on these alcohol-soaked nights, whether they were made up of flirtations and jokes or tears and outbursts — a part of you, even if momentarily, was grateful for the night's choice to be the first alternative. But something in Dante's tone alerted the part that was costing your frustrated attempts at concealment, the very same part that just now stirred just by witnessing his smile and the permanent gaze on you.

It didn't take that much clairvoyance to see the obvious: you were undeniably in love with Dante. A passion that you swore was, somehow, one-sided.

Your impatience melted away and the silence permeating the air of the place became metamorphic; from casual to uncomfortable. Dante tilted his head, waiting for an answer from you. You sighed, returned your focus to the last dishes and resigned yourself to drying them as a form of slight distraction.

"Dante, you're drunk."

He laughed briefly between words, "Tell me something I don't know, angelcake."

"You're talking nonsense."

"Maybe. But I still want some smoochies… Unless you don't want them, it's fine by me."

Once your work with the dishes was duly finished, you once again looked over your shoulder at him. Dante's lids drooped as the silent minutes passed by, his voice quieting, silver strands trailing across the back of the couch as he laid his head down. He was finally falling asleep.

You approached the half-demon's sleeping figure, uttering a 'tsk, tsk' which elicited a small chuckle.

"What do I do with you, Dante?"

The end of this night would be like that of many others, it would be up to you the arduous mission of putting Sparda's beautiful son to bed. Arduous for he certainly wasn't the lightest of beings and even though the habit made it look easy, your human muscles totally begged to differ.

Grunting as you struggled to carry him bridal style, you climbed the stairs to the top floor and with a little sacrifice managed to open the door to Dante's room. Before leaving him on the bed, babbling came directly from him, who now accommodated his face in the crook of your neck.

"Y'know, you're amazing…"

Subtly taken aback, you choose to listen to what the sleepy Dante had to say — for curiosity and for the unique, strong beat your heart emitted.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. You're also beautiful, and smart, and funny, and hot…" from there, you became hot with embarrassment as Dante's voice wakes up again, "You're so much fun! Man, no wonder I'm in love with you."

Your heart, happy and passionate, fluttered inside your ribcage. Your eyes wanted to pop out of their sockets. The surprising, heated euphoria altered your body temperature. Your arms softened like a sweet pudding, swaying and unconsciously allowing Dante to fall to the ground.

"... Ow..."

It wasn't possible, was it? Was it the illusions of the booze, or was Dante really in love with you too?

You gasped as you realized what you'd done, rushing to get the half-demon back in your arms in a fleeting act of trying to regain consciousness and collect all your agitated — but now happy — thoughts.

All right. Dante was known for many attributes, one of them was his frankness. And being drunk this same frankness was reinforced tenfold, in fact. There would be no reason for him to lie.

However, words like these had a huge impact.

You took a deep breath, carefully positioning Dante on the soft mattress and giving him one last look to make sure you didn't just lay him down and that he was comfortable enough. He mumbled as if he was in an argument with sleep, now lying face down on the bed. Your hand snaked into the untidy silver hair to pull it back from Dante's stunning face, your heart calmer and moving to a slower beat. You smiled, your eyes wryly drunk on the man's sleeping vision.

"Sweet dreams, daredevil."

You gave a shy peck on his cheek. Dante stretched a petit smile, and yours grew. Leaving the dark room, you headed for yours, even more wrapped in your feelings, which you now knew were reciprocated.

Quite a confession that could only have the signature of someone like Dante.

cerezzzita©, 2023 · all rights reserved ⓘ do not copy, edit, steal or claim as yours | reblogs and comments are welcome!

[look-at-the-soul]

Straight to the heart

Tommy Shelby x reader (Nurse)

After spending day and night for two weeks with nurses in the house while taking care of my grandma I couldn’t stop this idea running around my head.. this is set around S3E6… sending love and blessing to all the medical staff out there! Edit: Granny is doing so much better now, she can’t wait to go out already lol and now she says she misses us being with her all the time 🥺

Please note I’m not related to the health department, just what I read/watch.

Gif credit to @thesoldiersminute thank you for always keep up with my ideas!!! ☺️

Walking into the intensive care unit, Y/N was asked to immediately attend a new patient who arrived recently, she would only cover the night shift. He had surgery a few days ago and the doctors didn’t know yet how his body would react.

Y/N felt bad for the poor man, he was severely beaten, the damage in his brain still unknown, he was under high doses of medication. Most of his levels were out of proportion.

Right there he looked so helpless, vulnerable even. And even though the bruises and lightly swollen skin, she could see he owned some kind of privileged looks; thick lashes fanning over his cheeks, sharp cheekbones made him look like he was sculpted by a generous Greek God. If it wasn’t for the metal helmet on his head, she would swear he was only sleeping.

Sighting, she wrote down his records, adjusted his medication and left to attend her next patient. For the rest of the day, Y/N repeated the same actions without anything extraordinary or out of normal happening.

“Good luck on the night shift, Y/N” Jackie wished as she picked up her belongings.

“Why would I need luck?”

“You don’t know about that man at the 32?” Jackie squinted her eyes at her colleague.

Y/N shook her head as she organized the paperwork of the day. How would she know? She barely knew this area of the hospital. She wanted to stay out of any gossip or saying that was going around, but Jackie still decided to share the piece of information she heard in the hall. Letting Y/N know he was the infamous gánster from Birmingham known for cutting people’s eyes.

“His sister said he’s a war hero, but I know he’s a criminal, he deserves it.” Shaking her head she added; “his family requested a private room.”

But to Y/N all patients deserved to be treated equally, not taking into consideration their past, mistakes or anything else.

“Have a safe walk back home.” Y/N wished Jackie, hoping the other nurse would leave soon so she could resume the night visits to every patient, she had a long night ahead, starting with a young boy who had an accident at one of the factories.

Walking into Mr. Shelby’s bed close to midnight, Y/N noticed him sweating, shaking a little. Touching his forehead, she realized that he had a high fever. Rushing back to her unit, she grabbed towels and a bowl that she then filled with water.

Checking on his temperature, the thermometer showed 40ºC, so without wasting any more time, Y/N proceeded to provide medication to bring down his temperature. With a damp cloth, she pressed his neck, chest and forehead.

He was mumbling something she couldn’t understand, it was probably something that didn’t make sense, or another language she didn’t know… but as she moved to wet the washcloth one more time, his words were clear;

“Don’t leave me.” His hands got tense. “I need you.”

His frown grew deeper and when he opened his eyes abruptly, one of his hands accidentally hit Y/N above her right eye.

Y/N removed the covers from his body, as well as the upper part of the hospital gown.

Pressing the wet cloth against his hot skin Y/N got lost in the freckles on his chest, it reminded her of the previous night full of shining stars.

“Mr. Shelby, you’re alright, take a deep breath for me.” His breathing was erratic, his gaze lost, nothing he was saying made sense, he was talking about saving his mother and a Prussian boy, he then mentioned the name Charlie. “You’re at the hospital Mr. Shelby, take it easy.”

As Tommy looked around, he took in his surroundings, the pale skin of the nurse attending him contrasted deeply with the small crimson river of blood coming out from her eyebrow.

“There you go, that’s it, deep breaths.” Y/N smiled relieved that the fever was going down. Checking his eyes, his reflections seemed to be perfect, as well as the rest of his vitals. He tried to touch the metal around his head, but Y/N moved gently his hand down.

She helped the man to sit up slowly in the bed and after adjusting the pillow in his back, she offered him some water, to help his system fight the temperature.

“Are you feeling better?” Y/N asked after a few more minutes.

Tommy nodded, still altered by the mixed nightmare he just saw, his mother asking for help, she was dangerously close to the river and when he tried to grab her arm to move her away, he saw Charlie drowning, as he was about to save his son, the Prussian boy appeared from nowhere and sent him to the ground.

“It’s late, you might want to have some rest.” Y/N announced gently changing the pillow since it was soaked.

“I can’t go back to sleep.” He murmured after a few seconds. “My head ‘s pounding.”

“I can give you something for the pain.” But his hand stopped Y/N’s intentions to walk away. Gently and in a caressing motion, she placed his hand between hers, one on top and one under. “Is going to be alright.”

“Can you stay here? With me?”

And with that Y/N was able to see the bluest eyes she had ever crossed paths with, so transparent, so full of fear, so vulnerable. He locked his eyes with her and she got lost in a deep ocean, soft waves crashing against her.

So broken.

Empty even.

In the war she had seen endless horrors, men without a leg or an arm, people who lost their eyes, but nothing compared to what Y/N saw in this man’s eyes.

“Right, just let me call the doctor and I’ll stay here for a little longer, all my other patients are sleeping.” Y/N took the empty chair resting close to the door and brought it closer to the bed.

“Lucky they can.”

Y/N chuckled and in the process, she found the ghost of a smirk in his lips.

“I could give you something to sleep.”

“Oh, so you don’t have to deal with me?”

Y/N looks at him scandalized. “No, I meant it so you can rest.”

“That’s for the weak.” Tommy stated taking a deep breath.

“Are you sure you don’t want something for the pain?” Y/N tried again suppressing a yawn.

“I’ve the heart of a horse.” Tommy winced as her cold hand came to circle his wrist, she looked at her watch and then wrote down something in a chart. She then checked again his temperature. “How long have you been a nurse?”

Her features turned into a bittersweet expression.

“I volunteered as a nurse during the war, to be close to my husband.”

Tommy fixed his gaze on her. “The Somme?”

Y/N nodded. “Blackwoods, but he never came back.”

“Sorry for your loss.” Tommy offered Y/N his handkerchief, which she found on top of the cabinet with the rest of his clothes.

“Thank you, I hear you’re a hero.”

Tommy chuckled tilting his head.

“That’s overrated, I saw more men dying than I saved. Now you, on the other hand are a real hero, Miss?”

“Y/N Y/LN.” She smiled gently.

“Pleased to meet you, Thomas Shelby.” He extended his hand with a groan.

“How did you end up here with an injury like that?”

“I stumbled.”

Y/N didn’t believe that for a second, but she was glad to see that even in a situation like that, he felt like joking, it was a good sign.

“The door must’ve been heavy.” She joked, immediately regretting her own words. ”Sorry.”

“Bad choices brought me here.” Tommy admitted, his hands instinctively looking for a cigarette. “Can I have a smoke?”

Y/N stood up to take a cigarette and light it for him. “Hopefully you won’t make those again, you were very lucky this time.”

“You’d be surprised, sometimes I think trouble simply enjoys following me around.”

“You’re like a magnet then.”

She then decided to stay silent as she saw him with his eyelids closed, maybe tiredness took him finally in, that would be good, because then she would be able to close her eyes momentarily and…

“Has anyone came…?”

His deep voice pulled her from snoozing. Y/N nodded and informed him that his sister visited the previous day. And his aunt the day he had the surgery.

“Do you want me to let someone know?”

Tommy shook his head at first, closing his eyes. Who would give a damn about him?

“Jeremiah, Jimmy he’s a preacher.” He whispered after a few minutes.

“I know him, we’ve worked together helping people in need.”

Why that didn’t surprise him?

“That tells me I’m in good hands.” He ran his cigarette over his lower lip, while a light shade of pink covered her cheeks and neck.

“Thank you for helping me keep my eyes open.”

Tommy then winked. “Anytime love, you know where to find me.”

Y/N told him she would get him a new gown and take a quick look at the other patients, but she would be back before he could realize she was gone. In her absence, a doctor entered and after evaluating the information in his chart, asked a few insignificant questions and left him alone. Tommy wondered if she would be back soon.

“How was your round?” Tommy asked eyeing her by the corner of his eye.

“Fine, most patients are fast asleep except for one.”

“Sorry to keep you up, it gets boring here.”

Y/N’s eyes sparkled. “What are you talking about? The fun has just begun, you need to stay for a few months.”

But Tommy being Tommy, he had another ideas.

“I’ll be out of here this week.” He stated firmly.

They stayed in a comfortable silence, until Tommy saw the nurse leaning forwards, at the end of his bed, close to his feet, within seconds, he realized her breathing changed and she was fast asleep, forehead resting on one arm, at some point, she turned her head to the side, so her features were facing him, and he finally noticed the mole close to her lips…

The following morning, Jeremiah entered the hospital room, a beaming smile on his face, Tommy motioned him to be quiet, pointing at the sleepy nurse.

The poor thing worked the previous night taking care of a patient at home, then her regular shift at ER and finally she was asked to cover the intensive care unit as well.

Looking at the feet of his bed, Y/N was peacefully sleeping in an uncomfortable position that would probably hurt her neck and back, she assured him over five times she wasn’t tired first, then that she didn’t need a pillow, she wasn’t going to fall asleep, but in the end, her body claimed some rest. Her lips were partially open, her features relaxed, she exuded calmness through every pore.

A peace he would kill for.

“Looking good Tom.” Jeremiah whispered, walking around the bed, to the opposite side were the nurse was sleeping.

“Now everyone will shave the side of their head too.” Tommy joked.

Before Y/N fell asleep, she got her pocket mirror, helping Tommy to take a look, it disgusted him to see the helmet, and the dark circles under his eyes, paler than he usually was, but Y/N assured him, nothing of that mattered, he was alive.

But Jeremiah couldn’t hold back the laugh at Tommy’s comment, and Y/N woke up.

“I’m so sorry I fell asleep!” Y/N quickly apologized and walked out from the room, returning a few minutes later after a quick trip to the bathroom to refresh herself and as she walked over to the bed to check one more time for Mr. Shelby’s vitals, she overheard a conversation that concerned her.

“Jimmy, I need you to bring me some papers, the keys to the first drawer are on-”

“Mr. Shelby you can’t work right now.” Y/N looked between her patient and his friend, her whole body protesting for sleeping in that position.“You need bed rest, physical therapy and nothing that stresses you.”

Tommy chuckled and his head hurt from the effort.

“I’m sure Polly can manage for a while, you need to follow her orders.” Jeremiah stated before touching Tommy in the arm, followed by a wink. “He’s a bit stubborn, just so you to know.”

He thanked then Y/N for taking care of his friend and left them after that.

“I didn’t mean to sound bossy, sorry Mr. Shelby.”

“Call me Tommy, please.” Making an effort to look at her, he found a deep frown. “What’s the matter?”

“The doctor prescribed Morphine to your own judgment?”

“It’s for the pain.”

She knew this kind of high dosis could represent a big threat for the patients, it should be administered by someone who knew what they were doing, but it wasn’t her place to discuss that, so she only shook her head.

“Thank you, for not letting my nightmares hunt me last night.” Tommy whispered. “And sorry for that.” He then pointed out to the now clear cut on her eyebrow.

Y/N smiled brushing it off and left to do a quick check on her patients. Later, when she returned, she found Tommy sleeping, and just like he did the previous night, she let him sleep, hoping the nightmares would leave him alone.

***

When Tommy woke up again, he didn’t found Y/N back, no, there was a rude and grumpy, old nun making noise, disturbing the small peace he was able to reach.

After a heated argument, Tommy didn’t hesitate to point the revolver at her, he just wanted to scare her though, in that condition he wouldn’t be able to shoot properly, but it worked, because she mumbled he would be burned in hell and left. A doctor came in shortly, sweating, worried he would kill him there.

“Where’s Y/N?” Tommy asked cleaning his weapon with the sheet covering his lap.

“She has the day off, until tonight, she covers the ER Night Shift.” His apple bobbed up and down. “I’ll ask the nurse to check on you.”

“I don’t want anyone but Y/N.” Tommy resisted the urgent feeling to press his forehead, the headache was unbearable.

“She attends the emergency un-”

“Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear, Doc… Y/N is from now on my personal nurse.” He removed the security button of his gun. Feeling dizzy, he could see the doctor moving towards the door.

The intensive care unit looked oddly quiet that night, she shouldn’t be here without permission but there was no one to ask around, so she’d only stay for a couple of minutes and go to work at the other side of the building.

“Ah, I see you’re awake now Mr. Shelby, I brought you some tea that will help you with the pain, is strong so I added some milk and sugar.” Y/N smiled.

But the smile soon was followed by a shock, when the Director informed her she would now work as private nurse for Mr. Shelby, but she didn’t even try to gainsay against the new instructions, she just asked a few minutes to move her belongings over the intensive care unit.

“I hope you understand, the other nurse didn’t think I was a nice patient.”

Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes at him. “You pointed a gun at her, Tommy.”

“Yeah, yeah, she mentioned I was going to hell.” He retrieved the cigarette case and match from under the blanket, motioning for her to light it for him.

“How are you feeling?” She noticed the helmet was gone, and he could move freely now, slow but better.

“Like shit.”

Y/N looked at the cigarette between her fingers, Tommy cleared her she could smoke in her shift now. “Last night, when you had that nightmare… you mentioned someone… Charlie.”

Tommy ran his tongue over his lips, blinking at the thought of his son.

“I was trying to save him, he’s my son, now it’s just the two of us… his mother passed away.”

The air abandoned her lungs, her heart sank down, the worst pain this man was going through wasn’t for the head injuries, the emotional felt deeper.

“Everything I do, is for him, ‘cause I don’t want him to suffer what I went through.” He admitted.

Tommy threw the covers to the side, determination in his eyes.

Scandalized, Y/N rushed to his side, “what are you doing?!”

“I can’t stay in bed, have things to do.”

But her hands on his chest, held him firmly.

“You need to take it easy, it takes time to heal and recover.” Shaking her head, Y/N covered him again. “You hired me to be your nurse, and as such you’ll have to follow my orders.”

With an evident groan, Tommy allowed her to adjust his pillow, taking the revolver in the process.

“And I’m keeping this somewhere safe.”

“Fucking hell.” He scoffed.

***

Of course, he wasn’t out in a week like he said, Tommy needed medical attention and professional equipment to monitor his progress, the doctors didn’t even care he was using his pipe when the pain was too much.

During the following days, Y/N stayed by Tommy’s hospital bed day and night, helping him to stand up once the doctor cleared him out to walk around, she read out loud endless books and news to him, somehow she was his eyes and ears.

She earned completely his trust, he talked to her about things he didn’t dare to say to anyone else. And never complained about how difficult and headache he was as her patient, he lost all his dignity when she had to clean him up in the beginning when he couldn’t move, and kept his nightmares at bay some nights.

Staring into the ceiling, he didn’t even remember what day it was, memories were a bit blurry, but he had enough time to plan, to think, to realize things.

In the loneliness of those cold walls, it was all silent. Just him and his thoughts.

Where was his family? He had gave them all; everything they needed, everything they wanted… money, stability, power, luxuries, properties.

And they had only be around a few times for short and sporadic visits.

No one offered to spend the night with him, just in case he needed something during the night. All he heard was excuses to leave as soon as possible. They had other things to do.

The obscene amount of money he spent with whores to warm his bed for a moment and for what? They wouldn’t even dare to look a man ill in a hospital bed. They were empty, it was nothing more than a chore for them.

Not a single whore was appealing enough the effort now.

Deep down, he felt disappointed.

And heartbroken. If he ever had a heart.

All of the people he helped down the road, weren’t able to pay him a ten fucking minutes visit.

A knock on the door pulled Tommy away from his thoughts.

Y/N entered brightening not only the room, but his life as well.

“Good morning sleepyhead.” She chirped.

“You kept snorting, I had to recover my sleep-hours.” He lied.

“I did not.” Her voice faked indignation towards his words, touching his arm playfully with the package of the gauze.

“Why do you keep sleeping in the chair, when I asked them to bring in a couch for you?” He smirked accepting the biscuits she made for him.

“Trust me, if I take the couch, you’ll never wake me up.”

As she leaned to clean the spot of his surgery, Tommy turned his head and stared into her beautiful eyes, straight to her heart and soul. Wondering if she would allow him to kiss her, almost asking for permission. His hand came to rest to the side of her head, fingers intertwining in her hair… closing his eyes, he let his lips fan over hers, barely touching, teasing, burning and waking up every nerve in her body.

And when their mouths finally collided, time stopped and the fucking world could’ve exploded and they wouldn’t have noticed.

“Just what the doctor ordered.” The corner of his lips turned upwards and small lines formed around his blue eyes as he pulled in his nurse for another kiss.

“Tommy…” she whispered trying to catch her breath, easier than trying to ask her heartbeat to normalize.

“Tell me this isn’t a one side feeling?”

The feeling of his hands cupping her face close to his, made ir harder to shook her head. “No, it’s not that… is just that this isn’t professional. I’m your nurse.”

“Perfect, you’re fired then.” He joked, pulling her down for another kiss.

He would be forever grateful with her for those days when she was all the company he got, for the long talks, and making his most miserable time feel lighter. For encouraging him to walk again and do his exercises.

For being there for him.

He never imagined tragedy would take him to the place where he would meet love and compassion in the same person. He would get his head smashed a hundred more times just to be with her.

After getting more kisses, because he swore the doctor prescribed them, Tommy gave her the envelope with her payment and she almost fainted she saw it. It was more money than she could expect to see in months of working non stop.

“This is too much, I can’t accept it.”

“Y/N you stayed with me when I needed it the most, didn’t ask questions… no amount of money could ever really pay what you gave me.”

He was determined to go back home, promised the doctors he would take it easy and after watching his health improvement, he was discharged earlier than expected. But of course he was planning to have someone taking care of him.

***

Y/N couldn’t believe this was the correct address she was given. Taking a double look at the mansion before her, she swallowed hard.

But the address written on the paper Tommy gave her, was correct. After finishing her shift at the Hospital that day, she would be joining him at home.

Knocking on the heavy door, Y/N waited smoothing her uniform a petite woman in a black and white uniform opened the door. The look the woman gave her up and down made Y/N feel uneasy, worried there was something wrong with her.

“Mr. Shelby hired me to.-”

“I know who he is, I don’t understand why they sent someone lik-” shaking her head, she moved to the side as Polly approached them.

“Thank you so much for showing up earlier, he has been asking for you, I’m Polly.” She gave the nurse a candid smile and looking then at the maid, she added; “Mary please prepare her something to eat.”

“That won’t be necessary Mrs. Gray, I had breakfast after finishing my shift, but thank you.”

Polly guided her around the house, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Thank you for taking care of our Tom all of this time…” Showing her where was the kitchen, the bathroom, everything she might need.

“Is alright, don’t worry about that.”

“I’ve work to do, but I’ll give you a phone number where you can find me if anything urgent comes up, there’s also a driver and a car outside in case you need to use it.” They both walked a long hall, the house was decorated immediately. “My nephew has been talking about you.” She gave the nurse a knowing look. “Something changed, but not something physical, something inside, you gave him his heart back.”

As Polly opened the door to Tommy’s bedroom, Y/N found him playing with his son in bed, bare chest moving the child up and down in the air, his small giggles echoed through the room.

The image didn’t only made its way through her eyes, it went straight to the heart.

*******

And sorry it got long! I couldn’t stop writing for these two… your feedback is always highly appreciated and treasured ♥️ it means the world to me! Thank you for reading.

Master list

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @gypsy-girl-08 @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @strayrockette @the-forest-witchh @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @zablife @peakyscillian @moral-terpitude @babaohhhriley @ange-thoughts @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @cilliansangel @rangerelik

[especiallythewomenandthechildren]

As If Destiny (part ten) 🌹

Part 9.5🌹

a/n: the fact that i can keep finding gifs of this fine fine man.

love to you and even more love to you.

warnings: it's the hunger games universe. you know what you are getting into.

⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆

3:02 A.M

3:03 A.M

3:04 A.M

Coriolanus Snow was immobile as he watched the time pass on the cracked clock along the wall. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep tonight so he didn't even attempt it. Even as he closed his eyes due to the pounding migraine in his head, all he saw was you.

Your falling form, shaky hands, empty eyes. Silent mouth.

Not a single scream was heard from you when you got hit.

That was probably what haunted Snow the most. Your tragedy was silent. Life was slipping out of your being with no noise.

He sighed as he rubbed his eyes in frustration. He has been in the constant loop of falling into a rabbit hole of you, fighting to get out, then falling straight back in. This torture cycle has been going on for hours and wouldn't cease until he finally got to see you again.

When Coryo made it home, he fell straight into Tigris's arms. There was no need for him to explain what occurred as news spread like wildfire across the Capital. He always hated the speed of gossip across the city but was thankful for this one instance only because Tigris already knew what to do. She comforted her younger cousin and didn't pester him with questions but made sure he wasn't too lost in his head.

That's how they spent their entire evening until it hit midnight. The older Snow cousin could barely keep her eyes awake but swore she would stay by Coryo's side. Although, with enough reassurance that he would be fine and exhaustion overcoming her body, she finally relented to her small room.

While Coriolanus was glad Tigris was getting some well-earned sleep, he most definitely lied.

He was not fine.

3:11 A.M

He looked down at his desk where his own ideas for the Games lay. He had written them, revised, wrote some more, and revised even more. It was the only thing that got his mind off of your massacred form. If he edited anymore, he was sure to ruin the proposals.

The adolescent's blue eyes moved from the pages to stare out the window you loved so much. Those blossoming trees didn't sway as they usually did. Even they seemed disappointed at your disappearance.

While the flowering trees did remind him yet again of you, they also sprung an idea. It definitely wasn't the most intelligent idea and especially not the safest, but any reservations had to settle down as the Capital Zoo gates came into view. Why he was here? Even Coryo couldn't answer that but he figured it would be as good of a distraction as any.

The sweat piling on his palms seemed to be the only sign of reason within his being as he inched closer and closer. Not even twenty-four hours ago, a murder was attempted. On someone just like him. And someone got hurt. You got hurt.

He sighed as he was now only mere feet away from the gates. Coryo wondered if you would be upset at him being here. Would you think he is foolish or would you have faith in Lucy Gray?

There wasn't much lighting around the zoo but it wasn't necessary; Coriolanus could feel the eyes on him. The mentor could only pray that they were the brown eyes of the girl he was looking for.

"Lucy Gray?"

The hushed tone was hard to pick up on except if one was within a few meters of it. Whether the girl in question should be grateful she heard was still to be seen. Gently sliding Jessup's head off her shoulder, Lucy Gray creeped closer to the bars. Coriolanus waited a few moments before he opened his mouth to call out again. Though before any words were said, he was cut-off by a greeting from the singer herself.

"Coriolanus?"

He let out a breath when the girl presented herself, her appearance slightly shining under the dingy lighting. He brushed his hands through his now deflated curls. Lucy Gray waited patiently for him to form the words. Words he was unfamiliar with as he just spewed what was on his mind.

"I'm so sorry, I just- I couldn't sleep and thought you might be awake."

As soon as the words left his mouth, the blonde wished he could take them back. The reality of the situation hit him full force. Here he is interrupting what may be the last peaceful moments of this girl's life because he couldn't control his train of thought. He buried his face in his hands and stayed there until a small giggle was heard. He peered up to meet the soft smile of Lucy Gray.

"I thought mentors were supposed to take of us."

If it wasn't for her kind tone and sweet smile, Coriolanus would have been offended. He didn't know why he came to her, but a part of him trusted her. Or at least trusted she didn't have many people to tell.

His blue orbs watched her face deflate into one of worry as she walked closer.

"Is she okay?"

It was a quiet whisper burdened with concern. His trust was reaffirmed in Lucy Gray as he heard her concern for you. He nodded slowly while he opened his mouth to speak in a grave tone.

"She survived and will be released in a few hours. However, the cuts are aggressive "

Lucy Gray hung off of every word, genuinely concerned for your well-being. You were nothing but kind to her and Jessup. Not to mention you did try to help Brandy. The rest of the evening Lucy Gray kept on thinking about you and your actions.

Your kindness on the station, intimidating aura in the van, and quiet talk with Jessup in the zoo. The talk he didn't go much into detail about, still unsure of what to make of it. Lucy Gray didn't wish harm on anyone who has never personally harmed her and even though the redhead who mocked her own tribute was clearly cruel, she didn't believe she deserved death. When it all happened, the singer was shocked into stillness as she saw the murder attempt and was forced into movement when she saw your neck covered in blood.

After the incident and Brandy's corpse being carried out, the zoo was nearly empty of all visitors. The tributes mostly kept to themselves or their fellow district pair. Lucy Gray often thought of her family, the Covey, especially Maude Ivory. But it wasn't long before she once again thought over why you took the hit instead of the snarling girl.

The mentor didn't seem very happy with you and was insulting not only you, but someone clearly important to you. Lucy Gray has been around enough nasty folks to know that they always choose words carefully. Lucy Gray knew very little about you but even she could tell that whoever Otto was, he shouldn't have been mentioned.

The girl sighed herself as looked at the exhausted boy in front of her. The affection between you two was quite clear and it made her a bit more accepting of the Capital citizenship. If one can love another, they must have some sort of humanity.

"I can see why you love her."

Coriolanus Snow choked on his saliva upon hearing the words. His eyes were bright with fear and shock. The boy never even admitted that to himself and well he knew his feelings were strong, the word "love" was never used. Lucy Gray began internally panicking at seeing the boy's silence.

"You do love her right?"

Coryo's eyes scrunched slightly as he analyzed the soft tone used. Analyzed her question. In all his analysis, no answer provided itself.

"Is this what love feels like?"

He was eerily quiet; words spoken at a volume, it sounded like it would break. The question of her mentor made her relax and give a little laugh.

"Oh, you poor suffering soul!"

She teased lightly. Twelve hours ago, this situation wouldn't even be in either teenagers' wildest imagination. Yet here they stood, one lost in love-struck daze and the other in a satisfied companionship. Lucy Gray was behind bars, counting down the hours she had left in her life, but she wasn't too focused on that fact for the moment. The poster boy of the prestigious Capital stood completely vulnerable in front of her in the dead hours of the night.

These might be her last days of her young life, but Lucy Gray feels an odd sense of gratitude. She hates that she, along with the rest of the innocent tributes, are forced to massacre one another. Her blood boils at the thought that the Games are allowed and even encouraged. But she is grateful for Coriolanus.

Lucy Gray is still unsure why he came to her, but the action made her heart swell. Coriolanus didn't just see her as a tribute, or worse, just a pawn in the game to win the prize. She knew that was part of his motivations in his care for her, but in this quiet moment with no cameras, Coriolanus Snow sees her as a friend. A confidant in the silence of the city of whispers.

Her smile slightly deflated as she thought of her own run with love.

"You know, whatever happens in that arena, thank you. If for nothing more than showing me at least one man knows how to love in this world."

Coryo's stupor evaporated as the Reaping replayed in his head. Oh.

"That boy? He-"

"Didn't know how to love the girl who loved him. Got too greedy."

Lucy Gray's snarl was apparent as she thought over the boy and his affair who sent her here. Her heart was already broken, why did she also have it to be physically stabbed?

Coryo could start feeling his own anger building at the thought of Lucy Gray being hurt. She was incredibly sweet, even surrounded by her future killers. He didn't understand it, but it creates a feeling of protectiveness to surge through the curly head. At the human-to-human level, not mentor and tribute.

He wondered if he would be used to this protectiveness if his sister survived. His mother would love Lucy Gray, if nothing more than her charismatic personality.

"The girl who you sent the snake on?"

"Daughter of the mayor and the reason we are talking."

She sighed at the recollection that of all the people for Billy to break her heart with, it just had to be Mayfair.

The anger that was beginning to build up was now 100% ready to burst.

"What? She can't do that! The Reaping isn't for personal vendettas i-"

The words died on his tongue as the realization hit him aggressively.

Coriolanus was complaining about rules of sending innocent children into a blood bath. The hypocrisy of the Reaping being used for personal pleasure at others' pain is exactly what it was made for. The entirety of the Hunger Games was a sick lesson of victory in others' misery.

Lucy Gray watched the cogs turn in the blonde-haired head of the teenager across from her and was relieved to see the revelation of reality.

Her motivation for survival in the arena was already high so she can make it back to see the Covey again and watch out for Jessup. But another reason was added in those morning hours. Survive so she can take care of Coriolanus as he did for her. To ensure at least one love story ends happy.

The brunette tried to convince Coryo to go back home so many times throughout the hours he spent in front of the bars with her, but he refused. Even though he was mere feet from where he saw you collapse, his mind wasn't plagued by your unconscious eyes.

Instead, his lips kept on repeating the lively moments he shared with you to the curious Lucy Gray. He appreciated he got to brag about every little thing about you to someone who didn't have some other motive. Even with Tigris, she already knew every detail about you from the aforementioned bragging by her cousin, but she would still listen just to give him some comfort and a shoulder to lean on.

But Lucy Gray forced him to step out of his brooding and focus on that you were okay and made him more comfortable in the revelation of his love. Lucy Gray was thankful she didn't have to spend these days in the humiliating zoo as just an attraction or threat. Coriolanus made her still feel human and a friend. She knew how desperately he wanted to win and yet, not a word of strategy was mentioned. They had the meeting later in the day to discuss. Right now, they both just needed a friend.

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After nearly running back to his decaying home upon seeing the sunlight appear, he changed in a flash. He got too lost into his youthful conversation with Lucy Gray that he nearly forgot of his responsibilities. One being not frightening Tigris at being gone for hours in the middle of the night.

Thankfully for him, Coryo made it through his bedroom door just as Tigris opened hers to get ready for the day. He got ready speedily and grabbed his proposals and neatly packed them away into his bag. Ensuring he had everything he needed, Coriolanus gave a quick kiss on the head to Tigris and sped towards the Capital hospital.

His stomach was grumbling heavily, and he could have benefited from grabbing a few leftover pieces from the breakfasts you always brought. Though he had to decide between sustenance and you.

Not a seconds hesitation.

Coriolanus walked through the pristine doors of the newly built hospital. The hospital was a part of the new reconstruction project for the Capital after the war. Life was finally getting back to normal.

With the infamous charming smile of his towards the receptionist, Coriolanus made his way through the sterile hallway. Upon reaching and subsequently opening the creaking door, Coryo was biting back a boyish laugh.

On the bed lay you, with your head was tilted on top of Arachne's as the forementioned girl curled into your side. Your eyes were awake but quite droopy as you attempted to fight off sleep. A fight you won swiftly as soon as you heard the voice you've been yearning to hear.

"Am I being replaced? Of all people Arachne? Didn't know you were into redheads, y/n."

His smirk was evident and more so as he walked over to your bedside. You turned your head to the left as you looked up to the tall boy with a soft smile playing on your lips.

"Can't be replaced if you were never in her place to begin with."

He mocked offense as Coryo retorted to your still sleepy voice.

"Are you upset that I gave you my bed instead of squishing us? I barely fit on my own, imagine the both of us!"

You already have imagined it actually. Multiple times.

Nothing graphic just a bit of snuggling and giving the smug blonde a good kick in the middle of the night while in deep dreams, of course.

"I just don't want you to be sleeping on the floor. It's cold, Coryo, and has to be awful for your back!"

Coryo knew you were right as the floor was extremely uncomfortable, but the feeling that you were mere arms width away gave him a level of comfort no mattress could provide. He only wished that you were in his arms rather than the distance of them.

"Such is the tragedy of being a gentleman."

He gave you a toothy grin as you laughed lightly, widening Coriolanus's smile even more. The young man got settled at the foot of your bed as he nodded questioningly towards the still sleeping Arachne.

You let out an amused laugh as your fingers began streaming through the now down red hair of the girl in question.

"Said she didn't want to leave me. I don't know why, but I'm not complaining. I've missed her and our friendship."

Coriolanus nodded along and gave no hint of what he was feeling inside. A feeling with the name of suspicion. He wasn't blind to her stares at you. They were icy and envious, or at least they pretended to be. One can't hide the longing for another, no matter how deep it's buried.

The blue stare of Coriolanus Snow moved across the room and landed upon the now crinkled parchment. He nodded in amazement with a proud smile.

"Gaul knows young promise, now doesn't she?"

You stretched forward just enough to smack his leg reprimandingly.

"Don't go getting a big head on me now, Coryo."

"Any bigger and we would have to calculate the surface area."

It seemed just a bit of rest was all that was needed for the notorious Arachne Crane snark to return. She quickly sat up, removed your hands gently, and patted herself up to perfection. As soon as she became presentable enough for public, a kind-looking nurse with honey eyes and light freckles entered.

Arachne froze for a second, fearing she was found out, though you had no fears. Due to her bright and rested attitude, the honey-eyed nurse was clearly working the day shift instead of the scoping night shifts. It only took a few moments and tests to reassure your release. You signed multiple papers that you didn't bother reading, and you were given the clear along with your still-stained academy uniform.

You fully intended on completing your mentor duties today and the following days but completely forgot about the state of your uniform. A quick scan to the clock showed that you didn't have time to go back to your apartment and get a clean spare. An apartment that you weren't even sure was yours anymore. It was most definitely not home.

However, your panicked thoughts must have been heard by your saving angel. An angel that came in the form of the familiar warm brown eyes and curly hair.

In his hands were a spare uniform for you (how he got it, you weren't going to waste the energy on questioning it) and a container filled with sweet treats sent from his ma clearly.

"Sejanus have I ever said how much I loved you?!"

He gave you a warm smile as he passed the clothes off and opened up the beautifully designed container. You quickly grabbed a few of your favorite sweet treats while the rest were offered to Coriolanus and a bit reluctantly, Arachne. The latter squinting at the treats in disgust. The food smelled delicious and looked even more delectable, but district hands still made them.

Though your clear enjoyment of the delicacies as well as the boys', who began quietly talking, Ara grabbed a small treat that has a red tint to it. The taste popped in her mouth and continued to as she fully enjoyed some of the best treats she has ever tried.

You laughed at her reaction and the flustered blush that appeared on the girl's cheeks caused a squint of distrust to frame Coriolanus's eyes and Sejanus's mouth to go agape.

"Since when did she sink her claws into y/n?"

Sejanus was concerned how you could so easily be friendly with the girl who was more than willing to let you die. At least in his eyes.

Coriolanus left the question out into the air as he focused on helping you out of bed, legs a bit shaky. He grabbed the rouge uniform and led you to the connected bathroom. A little interrogation was initiated as he tried to ensure your safety.

While you two were bickering back and forth about your ability to change on your own, an awkward silence firmly took place between Arachne and Sejanus. The brown-eyed boy unabashedly stared holes into the redheads face while she focused on your hospital gown-clad figure.

"Spread my thanks to your mother. She is a wonder with pastries."

Arachne's words were meek as she struggled to pull them out. Twenty-four hours ago, she would never have thought of complimenting district scum- no. Not district scum. District. Maybe scu- you wouldn't approve of that language. Arachne just got you back, she isn't going to lose you again.

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A half-hour passes, and by then, you are fully dressed and walking up the stairs of the academy with Sejanus. Arachne had to rush back home to get her supplies and clean up while Coryo went to drop off both of your proposals to Dr. Gaul. Technically, proposals by three academy students, though you doubted Clemensia put a wink of effort. Especially in her state yesterday.

On a good day, she would be more than happy to let Coriolanus do all the work and take the credit. But in tears and wreck, she needed to leech to survive.

As you walked through the pristine institute, you heard the whispers and felt the hot gazes upon you. The patched-up wounds on your neck felt extra visible and painful as you weaved through the gawking crowds. They eventually settled as the guard dog of yours named Sejanus, gave them a stare to scare the teenagers into silence.

The pair of you moved into Heavensbee Hall, where multiple tables and chairs had been organized into a circular formation. On your way to the academy, Sejanus filled you in on today's events. An hour meeting with the tributes, a fifteen-minute tour of the arena following, and in the evening a presentation paired with an interview of each of the district tributes.

As soon as you stepped into the grand hall, you were enveloped by a pair of arms connected to a certain bead of raven hair.

"Clemmie!! I'm okay, don't worry!"

You were met with no verbal response but rather a rather harsh squeeze by the surprisingly strong girl.

"Okay, I'm not okay because you are actually crushing my body!!"

As you could finally breathe through your lungs, you quietly conversed with your worried friend. It was only after a few moments after that the tributes were brought in as if cattle; each in heavy chains that connected to their peers in front of them in the single file line.

The look in Clemensia's eyes was screaming at you to leave and protect yourself, but all it was met with was a tight-lipped smile. You were making your way to the designated desk for you and Jessup when your path was intercepted.

"Miss Vaun."

Dean Highbottom was not someone you wanted to deal with this early in the morning, especially when the only words coming out of his mouth were subtly crafted mocks and the only thing going in was morphling.

"Such a shame to hear of your incident."

Each word he uttered made you nauseous. His calculated tone was dripping with hidden motives. Casca Highbottom was playing games with you though you had no idea what they were nor why. Though a speculation was that it had something to do with a certain curly-haired blonde who was now walking in your direction with a scowl towards your dean.

"Ah, Mr. Snow, I was beginning to fear you had yet another show to present. It seems the mentors are more the spectacle than the tributes."

The smile Coriolanus gave the bitter man was tight, just like his patience. Dean Highbottom, satisfied with the emotion caused, called for all mentors to join their tributes at their tables as he addressed the room.

"In spite of yesterday’s tragic events, our president has decided that the Games must go on to show everyone the Capitol is unafraid of such acts of terror."

Your cheeks burned as you ducked your head while feeling Jessup's eyes stare at you. Well, everyone's eyes.

"To which end, Dr. Gaul wishes you to preview the arena this afternoon with your tributes. Later this evening, there will be a special televised presentation and interview of each tribute to our audience to get to know them."

You sighed slightly as it was clear that Dr. Gaul liked at least some of your ideas if she implemented the interview and some sort of presentation.

"You will have an hour to discuss strategy. You may begin."

You lifted your head back up to meet the dark brown eyes of Jessup Diggs. You smiled shyly, unsure of where to start. Though there was no need for worry as Jessup was the one to initiate the conversation.

"Those are some nasty cuts."

You, in stark contrast to the solemn room, laughed softly. The boy's tone wasn't harsh or arrogant at seeing your hurt, but rather blunt. It was better than hearing a voice filled with glee at seeing your scars.

"Well now we match, huh?"

You sat back in your chair, getting comfortable. You had an hour ahead of you and the discussion of strategy wasn't going to take long if Jessup was still insistent on not taking medicine. The dark-skinned boy matched your position while you prepared your thoughts.

"You sticking to no medicine?"

His eyes drew over your neck again, seeing how much it has healed due to the remedies. But you didn't have to be locked into an arena filled with killers. He got the bite due to his character and actions, that's how he wanted to die. Not because of scared teenagers who just wanted to go home to their mama.

His silence was an answer enough for you; an answer that didn't surprise you. Jessup was stubborn, and you would bet there were few topics he would be willing to change his mind on. Though, you could never have bet that his mind was starting to change in regards to the children of the Capitol. That not everyone was horrible.

"I can't get you out of the interviews or presentation, but you can keep silent. There is not much they can do to force you. However, if you have something you want to say, feel free."

You knew that his silence would ensure he would have no sponsors, but that didn't matter in his case. The district boy looked a bit taken aback by your last statement and what he could do with it.

"Anything? Isn't that a little dangerous?"

The brunette knew it wasn't dangerous for him as he was already sentenced to death, but what about you? He wasn't sure why he cared, but he did. You seem to try to save anyone you can, an odd trait for a Capitol resident, but true nonetheless. You didn't deserve to get hurt because of his rash actions.

"I can't control your actions, Jessup. You are your own person. Even while this whole situation doesn't have anything to do with you, there is still control you have."

He mulled over your words, and even though it sounded farfetched, it was true. Even a smile appeared on his face as he agreed: he did have control.

You were happy to see that smile and know that he recognized his freedom in the cage. The two of you were content as you sat back and turned simultaneously towards the other District 12 tribute and mentor pair.

Coriolanus and Lucy Gray were not the normal pair. Lucy Gray wasn't sitting quietly or glaring. Coriolanus wasn't sneering or arrogant. Their conversation, a wonder in itself, was mutual. Your heart pulled at the scene, wishing that it could be in different circumstances.

Your head turned back to look at your own tribute, whose head was still turned towards his friend. His eyes were covered in reminiscence and pleas. Pleas that she will survive. That is when an idea came to fruition.

"What if we made a deal?"

Jessup slowly turned his head towards you in apprehension and confusion. What more could you possibly expect from him?

"You do everything you can to stay in control in that arena. Fight off the disease as much as you can because your sanity will disappear. I've seen it firsthand; any piece of Jessup Diggs will be gone. You will become a danger to Lucy Gray. Don't let her eat or drink after you. You could spread it."

Jessup took in what you were saying and agreed but was still confused about what the deal was. What was in this for you?

"Take care of yourself and her in the arena and I will do my best outside of the arena to make sure Lucy Gray goes home."

His brown eyes squinted at you in wonder and uncertainty. You were sincere in your words, but Lucy Gray winning meant more than just her success, and Jessup knew that.

"Why? So your boyfriend can win and spend all the money he doesn't need on your Capitol luxury?"

Your previously relaxed facial expression melted into one of simmering anger. You thrashed your body forward and toned your voice down into a chilled whisper.

"One, he isn't my boyfriend. Two, looks can be deceiving. He desperately needs the money. I know it's hard to believe, but his family is starving, and his grandmother and cousin need him. That's why he works day and night, so don't you dare say he doesn't need the money. You don't know him."

Your tone was laced with venom, and Jessup quickly took the hint. His eyes raked over the fair-skinned boy, and he could see you were right.

He was tall, yes, but skinny. Even kids in twelve weren't that malnourished. Jessup turned back to you with a little smirk, which brought you a sense of unease.

"Very defensive of your 'not boyfriend'."

You opened and closed your mouth while the seeming permanent blush appeared once more. Your lack of defense brought a small joy to Jessup, a feeling he accepted he would never feel again when his name had been called. You took a deep breath before properly explaining your reasoning for your little deal.

"I'm doing this in part for Coriolanus, yes. I would be lying if I said I wasn't. Another part is for Lucy Gray. I've never met anyone like her, and I think that's a universal experience. If I can't save you, I will save her. I won't let your sacrifice be for nothing. We've taken enough from you."

There was silence for a few moments as Jessup processed. He believed you, maybe too easily, but he did. What he couldn't believe is that you were Capitol.

"Don't say that."

"Say what?"

" 'We'. You are not the same as the people who put us here. You aren't like the rest of the mentors."

Your eyes shined with a few tears of gratitude as you struck your hand out. You had a lopsided smile and a laugh as you uttered a singular word.

"Deal?"

A nod and hidden smile were paired with a reciprocated action as your hands shook.

"Deal."

Hands still interlocked, the sound of Dean Highbottom's voice rang out.

"Snow. Dovecote. Vaun."

One last smile was sent toward Jessup as you stepped out and made your trek towards the infamous Dr. Gaul.

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You were right.

Clemensia didn't even know the proposals were written. Well you did cherish your friend, you had to admit Coryo wad far kinder than you would have been if you were in his shoes.

Clemensia vouleentered for this and yet she couldn't make the effort? You didn't appreciate being her excuse when he own excuse was able to get the work done. This wasn't some school project. This was real life and possibly world changing. You hoped, for her sake, Clemensia knew what she got herself into.

The three of you walked into the expansive lab fillied with odd creatures in all sorts of liquids and devices. You watched Coryo walk over to one and tap on its glass as you examined it from afar. Out of thin air, the peculiar woman appeared, slightly startling you and Clemensia.

"The star burns as it is orbited. Flames lick across it's surface while those circulate it with no fear. Fire pours and the star glows!"

You take in the woman's odd words and look to Coryo to confirm she is talking about and your condition from yesterday. She did call you and Coryo stars so it wouldnt be too far fetched. Unlike the head Gamemaker.

"The sun gets orbited, not stars."

You hear Clemmie whisper into your left ear and you sighed.

"Clemmie, the sun is a star."

Dr. Gaul overhead your whispers as she sent a quizzical and nerve wrecking look towards your companion, causing the latter to slightly shiver.

"Come and see my new babies."

The sickly sweet tone of the Gamemaker certainly didn't settle Clemensia's shivers. Your concerned eyes connected with Coryo, who also seemed apprehensive at the offer.

You followed the graying woman to a circular glass tank containing a vast array of slithering colors. You let your hand slide across the glass, oddly satisfied as the snakes followed your fingers.

"Is there a point to the color?"

"There’s a point to everything, Ms. Dovecote, or to nothing at all. Which brings me neatly to your proposals."

You sucked in a breath as you realized you could easily be thrown into the snake tank. But she wouldn't do that if she hated your proposals right? She might.

"Miss Vaun, next time, ask for a hospital room with better lighting. Your handwriting was incredibly messy."

You turned your head slightly in confusion. Should you be happy that's the only she has issues with? Is this her way to get you distracted to easily throw you in with the reptiles without fight? You didn't expect praise but you didn't know what to make of her given comments. Though you were quick to learn you should be greatful for having notably bad hand writing.

"For you two, which one of you actually wrote it?"

Dr. Gaul turned her unnerving gaze upon your friends. You knew who wrote it, so did they, and it seemed like Dr. Gaul had an inkling.

"Well, there was-"

"I was inspired by Coriolanus yesterday, of course. His little betting idea. But the sponsorships and the gifts in the arena, those were all mine."

You stood there shell shocked as you saw the girl unabashedly take credit for work she didn't even give a word to. The betrayal evident on her supposed partners face as he questioned her.

"Clemmie?"

The confusion between you and Coryo was not shared by Dr. Gaul as she was utterly unfazed.

"So it’s your sweaty handwriting on that page. Very impressive, Ms. Dovecote."

You watched as Clemensia proudly smiled at the woman's praises. Dr. Gaul's approval and audible pride in work was never a good sign. Oh how you wished Clemmie could have seen that.

"Unfortunately, my assistant mistook it for trash this morning and lined the shelf of this very terrarium with it. So, please, Ms. Dovecote, retrieve it for us, won’t you?"

All color of the already pale girls face was drained, a recation copied by both you and Coryo. Your brain ran through all the scenarios to get Clemensia our of there or what could have been if you just hadn't spoken up. None of Clemensia's actions were your fault but you couldn't help but step in.

"I can grab them, if that wouldn't be an issue."

A part of you wished you kept quite as the manically calculated eyes of Volumina Gaul met yours.

"Well they are Miss Dovecotes wonderfully inspired ideas. It is best for her to share it with us, isn't that right?"

You could do nothing but nod along, realizing there wouldn't be a way to get your dark haired friend out of this.

Dr. Gaul turned back to address Clemensia, who was clearly holding back screams of panic. A sight that brought a sick sense of satisfaction to the older woman.

"Don’t worry, my little predators are perfectly docile with those they can trust.

So if they’re used to your scent, if you’ve handled their food, for example, or if they’ve inhaled the sweat of your palm on a page, they’ll leave you alone."

The chilling woman curled closer to the panicking teen as she inhaled her fear.

"A new scent, however…

you’d be on your own, little girl."

That soft tone was quickly replaced with the ragged and stone cold demand.

"Retrieve it."

You felt yourself being held back by some force. You weren't running after her. You weren't jumping into the snake pit. You thought it was the fear holding you back, but you felt the familiar arms of Coriolanus Snow ensuring you weren't going to jump into danger yet again. Whether or not you both wanted to admit it, Clemensia got herself into this situation all on her own.

You held on his arms as you watched the mentor's hand go further and further down the pit of vemenous danger covered in an array of bright colors. The tips of her finger brushed against the page unharmed and a slight breath of relief, Clemensia reached fully for the paper.

The scream scratched against the deepest edges of your ears. Corners of your earlobes that haven't been touched since the death of your mother. Why is it that all those who you love have the scream?

"Clemmie, no! NO!"

When the girl jumped back in pain and shock, Coriolanus was quick to move you the way, accidently creating the clear path as she fell off of the slightly elevated platform. The gasped and clawed at her neck as you both rushed to her side, unsuccessful in finding a way to help your suffering Clemmie.

"You asked about the colors, Ms. Dovecote? I want my enemies to see a rainbow of destruction engulfing the world. I’m not above using spectacle to create a little terror."

You saw the vision but could care less as you desperately tried to comfort your friend.

Is this how you looked less than a day ago? Whipering in the floor while your neck is covered in evidence of an attack?

Some of Dr. Gaul’s assistants rushed over to take Clemensia away, having to push you away to do so. You wanted to run after her but was frozen once more by that sick voice.

"A strategy your classmate here articulated very well in his proposal."

The woman's fascinating eyes moved off of the now horrifyingly still form of Clemensia and back to you and Coriolanus.

"They’re good, your suggestions. The both of you. I’m going to recommend my team implement as many as possible tomorrow."

Coriolanus took the shock for the both of you as you were still focused on the now gone squirming figure of Clemensia Dovecote.

"Will she die?"

You didn't know what to expect exactly but of course, the reality of Dr. Gaul was even more appealing.

"The pleasure in breaking ground in one’s research is one gets to find out."

You shivered at her degradation of the girls struggle into a science experiment. You might have made a mistake mixing in with her, no matter the promise it held.

"You better keep Ms. Dovecote’s fate between us. I don’t think her mother would be happy to learn how she caught this sudden… flu."

You and Coryo shared yet another look as alarms rang in your eyes. Would you two be next if you were unsatisfactory?

Any fear picked up from either of you was ignored by the head Gamemaker as she sighed whisfully.

"Now run along, you have an arena to promote and it’s time for my milk and crackers."

⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦���⋇⋆✦⋆

The arena wasn't far from Dr. Gaul’s laboratory. Only a few streets away, in fact. The entire way was filled with silence between you and Coryo, but it doesn't mean there wasn't communication.

Coryo kept his arm around your waist as you laid your head on his shoulder. He knew what Clemensia's screams reminded you of. He saw the memories flash before your eyes and instinctively scanned Clemmies mouth for any blood. Snow tried to convince you not to go to the arena.

He could look around with both Lucy Gray and Jessup if you wished. But you refused. You wished to tell him of your deal, but you doubted Jessup would inform Lucy Gray, so it would only be fair if you kept quiet for now.

When the pair of you reached the arena, the rest of your classmates and tributes were lined up, waiting for you two. How they knew Clemensia wasn't coming, you weren't sure, but as soon as you and Coriolanus ran all the way to the front where District 12 was held, you began the walk-in.

Coryo was in front of you as you took shallow breaths while walking into the area where you knew only one of the 23 kids would walk out. Your focus was on the blonde curls and square shoulders of your Coryo. Your Coryo. This was a very bad timing for this very sudden thought to appear.

Thankfully, or not, the robotic female voice poured out of the speakers as Coriolanus and Lucy Gray crossed the gates.

"Enjoy the show!"

Of course, it had to say that.

"Enjoy the show!"

The voice continued to repeat itself as the rest of the pairs walked in, along with a few peacekeepers. You watched as Festus directed camera crews to focus on the still sneering Coral. Sneers that were being sent pointedly in your direction. You looked over to Jessup, who seemed to be slightly dazed.

"Jessup?"

The boy turned to you, and it took him a moment for recognition to flash before his eyes. You gulped as you realized that Jessup won't be able to keep his side of the offer for long. But you were determined to keep yours up until the end.

The thought made you turn to the girl you wished to protect. She looked scared and has full reason to. She turned to Coriolanus with pleading eyes. You took a breath and nodded to whatever her request was. She looked back around, still apprehensive. Coryo could have followed her gaze, but instead, he met yours.

In the very same place where half of the inhabitants of the space will be dead starting tomorrow, he looked so calm. He looked worried and was scheming in his brain when he was talking to Lucy Gray, but when he met your eyes? He looked so at peace. You could be imagining it, but that smile was so, so real.

A true and lovesick smile. A smile that grew with every second that you met his gorgeous blue eyes. A smile that you matched in tandem. Young and in love. Lovesick looks across the battlefield.

To be in love during war is the worst casualty of them all.

The sound of heartbreak was the only sound that was more shattering than the explosions that blew around you all.

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a/n: please don't send dr. gaul to my house because i tool FORVER to finally upload this! thank you so much for the wait and support loves, it means the world! pls lmk what you all think💓

@notyourwildestdream 🌹@darktrashsoulbear🌹@fantasylovestoryme 🌹@nekee-lilac02 🌹@a-avengerparker 🌹 @queenofshinigamis 🌹@darlingisntit 🌹 @scarletstarrs 🌹

[pinkdoodoofart]

Your Hair (Connor x Black! Reader)

Summary: Connor is still adjusting to being at the DPD and improving his relationships with you and Hank. He starts with you, trying to understand you more and grow closer to you. (Will be a bunch of one-shots in chapters I guess?)

Word Count: 1141

This has not been proofread, wrote this today before work so it will be edited later maybe. A little comfort oneshot for those who struggle with liking their hair, i def struggled ToT

Though he has his own desk now, Connor is still not generally familiar with his environment or his partners at the DPD. Lieutenant Anderson, better known as Hank, shows much disdain towards Connor. Making it difficult to work on cases efficiently, much to Connor's dismay.

Software Instability Decreased

However, all is not entirely formidable. His other partner, (Y/N), quiet as you can be, was pleasant and understanding. When you first met, he wasn't ignored, pushed to the side, or spoken to rudely. Instead, you greeted him as if he were another human being. However, meeting at the homicide crime scene of Carlos Ortiz was not what he would consider cordial.

Today was a slow day at the department. Hank hasn't shown up yet, Gavin is loud and obnoxious, and no one will even bat an eye in his direction. Connor sits at his desk, scanning over the same files repeatedly looking for anything to pique his interest.

"Good morning Connor," a sweet and soft voice greets, prompting Connor to raise his head in the direction of his quiet partner. His eyes shoot up to your head before responding. Your hair was gigantic and different from when he last saw her with braids.

"Good morning (Y/N), did you have a safe drive to the station?" He questions as he watches you set up at your desk. He couldn't stop his eyes from drifting to your hair as he spoke. You look at him with a soft smile as you sit down, "I did, less traffic than normal thank fuck." This makes Connor chuckle a bit, you're quiet, but you have quite a dirty mouth.

"That's good..." he says as he keeps staring intensely. You look up to see him staring intensely at your head, making you look up as if something was above you.

"Is something wrong Connor?" you question while sitting at your desk, facing him. Finally, his attention shifts to your face as he turns his head to the left slightly, "Your hair is drastically different from the last time I saw you. It's... very big". This makes you let out a loud and uncontrolled laugh (which gets the attention of other coworkers, prompting you to quiet down), not telling him about the unintentional innuendo he said.

"I took my braids out and decided to go with the 'fro," You say simply staring at him with a smile trying to calm yourself down. This further confuses him, it shouldn't look like that after taking them out, right? "Do you like it, Connor?" You ask while puffing it out as if putting on a show for him. He continues to stare, perplexed by the volume of your hair having increased considerably. While distracted, he doesn't notice you moving closer in your chair. "You seem lost in thought, you good?" You examine when your first question remained unanswered.

"I'm fine Detective, but I do have a question," he finally responds after some time. You nod and sit patiently, waiting for him to elaborate. "Your hair's volume and mass has increased drastically, how is that possible?" He sounds like a curious child when an adult is working on something unfamiliar to their knowledge.

"My hair is very interesting Connor. When wet, it shrinks and curls up, when blow-dried, it expands. My braids were getting old, so I decided to take them out, wash my hair, and go with the 'fro." You state, touching your hair as you explain. The circle on his temple goes yellow for a moment before transitioning back to blue, "I see, that is very interesting Detective. It's vastly different than my hair." You pause, lips forming a tight line, which does not go unnoticed. "Did I upset you, Detective?" He asks slightly worried and confused, did he say something wrong?

"No, you're fine Connor. Just thinking about how younger me would've loved to have hair like yours," You say, slightly cringing at the thought. Once again, he does his cute little head tilt, "Like mine? My hair is fake as I am a machine." You chuckle a bit before putting a hand on his shoulder, "I mean the texture hun". He's further confused by your answer, why would you want hair like his?

"But why? Your hair is beautiful and unique whereas the texture of my hair is simplistic." You smile at the compliment before you explain yourself, "Growing up, I went to a predominately white school, from kindergarten to high school. Everyone had straight hair, could jump in the pool and their hair wouldn't shrink or be hard to comb through. Even when I straightened my hair, it didn't look like the other girls. Although I was never bullied for my hair, that didn't stop the insecurities." You finish while looking at the ground.

A hand pulls your head up to look at its owner, Your hair is beautiful the way it is (Y/N)," He reaches a hand towards your hair, silently asking for permission to touch it. With an approving nod from your end, he feels through your hair slowly, letting out a noise of satisfaction. "Your hair is soft to the touch, and smells of coconuts. It's like a soft blanket that could keep you warm from any cold. Love your hair as it is (Y/N)". His response brings a blush to your cheeks (not like you can see it), a feeling of delight rushing through your chest.

You close your eyes with a hum as he continues to comb his fingers through your hair, "Thanks Connor, This feels really good." You say as you lean more into his hand. He stops his hand for a moment before continuing.

"I am glad you are enjoying the feeling Detective," he states without stopping. Before you can utter another word to Connor, a loud noise erupts from the desk across from his. Connor stops as you both look up to see Hank staring at you both intensely.

"What the fuck are you doing to her Connor?' Hank asks, confused but with a hint of amusement in his tone. Connor removes his hand quickly as you continue to sit, refusing to make eye contact with either individual, "Detective (L/N) and I were having a conversation". Connor states while staring at Hank with a neutral expression. In the corner of your eye, you can see Hank staring at you before he scoffs, "More like digging your mechanical hand in her hair," he stops for a moment, seeming to try not to laugh before continuing, "We got another place to check out, get your stuff and let's go," and with that, Hank is already heading outside to his car. You pack your stuff up and quickly head in Hank's direction, but not before smiling softly at Connor. Smiling in response, Connor felt his day had suddenly gotten better

Software Instability Increased

[zzoomacroom]

Last Line Tag Game

Thanks for tagging me @tj-dragonblade! 💗💗💗

I haven't had much time to write lately, and I'm having one of those "everything I write is cringe and I hate it" moments, but hopefully I'll get my groove back soon.

Last thing I wrote was for the next chapter of Rain Is Coming Down. I'm not really happy with how this scene is coming together, so I will most likely be making some big edits.

Context for what's going on in this snippet: Retired Dream is pregnant, and Hob is telling Death about the difficulties he and Morpheus have been facing while trying to find prenatal care. The character mentioned here, Eileithyia, is the Greek goddess of childbirth and midwifery, whom I have adopted as an OC because I decided actually there should be even more mythological figures who have beef with Morpheus.

In the end, the best candidate Hob managed to find had been a veterinarian with a discreet side practice treating human patients. When he had brought it up to Morpheus, well… if looks could kill and Hob could die, he’d have been reduced to a pile of ash on the spot. He’d almost made a joke about the vet being perfect for his angry cat of a husband, but he didn’t fancy sleeping on the sofa for the next decade, so he’d kept his mouth shut. “I suppose,” Morpheus had conceded through gritted teeth, “I would be willing to speak to Eileithyia. If there is truly no better option.” So it worked out brilliantly after all, and Hob couldn’t be prouder of Morpheus—the man’s held grudges for billions of years, so this is big. “Yeah, she’s been a life-saver,” Hob says. “If it weren’t for her, we would’ve had to go with one of my, er… underground contacts. And they’re all either glorified drug dealers or so-called ‘doctors’ with questionable credentials whose usual gigs involve extracting bullets from mobsters. And of course anything through the NHS is out of the question.” “Of course. Can’t have your secret getting out,” Death winks. “Too right,” Hob agrees before downing the last of his tea. It’s a relief talking to someone who understands. “Only it’s a bit frustrating; not like we can tell any of our friends the real reason we’ve got a midwife making house calls instead of going to an obstetrician like normal people living in the 21st century. Suze keeps trying to talk us out of having a home birth. I think now she thinks we’re just artsy-granola-hippie types. What was it she was asking you the other day, darling?” “She was impressing upon me the importance of vaccinating the baby,” Morpheus replies. “And reminding me that there is no shame in getting an epidural,” he adds with an endearingly perplexed frown.

No pressure tags: @ralkana @fleabagoftheendless @linzod @menthol-drops Not sure who has been tagged for this recently, so consider yourself tagged if you see this, and/or feel free to tag me on your post! ✨

[avelera]

First off, may I begin with screaming loudly about the new chapter of GS because my god, it was lovely! Will leave a comment on ao3 later once I’ve found some words beyond mere key bashing

Second, if at all possible and not inconvenient, could you perhaps share some tips about your process and staying motivated while writing? Especially for such a long fic? Sincerely, a fic writer who can’t manage to get anything finished, let alone posted

Aah, thank you so much!

*Cracks knuckles* OK, to answer your question!

Build endurance. Writing long fic is a marathon in a very REAL sense. Runners who sprint and runners who run marathons are totally different (if perhaps complimentary) skillsets. Writing a really dense, well crafted short story is a unique skill. It is NOT the same thing, in my opinion, as being able to write a long-form novel. (That's why, IMO, a lot of people who get their start in short stories because of the way creative writing education & publishing work in the mainstream these days often struggle to jump to novels and their first novel (*cough* American Gods *cough*) are often densely beautiful but weirdly episodic and not always well connected internally.) Sorry, random soap box moment. TL;DR: Short vs. long fic writing are different skills. Be patient with yourself. Build endurance the same way a marathoner does: with practice.

Do not post before the fic is finished. This is a tip that is largely unique to me and one I've broken recently BUT absolutely nothing motivates me to push through the hard parts at the middle of the story like the realization that if I don't, no one will ever read the story. It'll all be wasted effort (except insofar as I got to practice writing). This doesn't work for everyone, but it is worth a shot!

Do not talk about your fic before it's written. Storytelling is sometimes the same centers in the brain, at least for me, as story writing. IE, by telling someone what I'm going to write, I've drained the enjoyment from writing it. That juicy pleasure is already sucked dry, leaving only the husk of the actual work. Now, this doesn't mean you can't talk at all about your work but one tip is to only talk about parts you've already written. You can say you just wrote a cool passage about XYZ! But stop at the moment where you're about to say what happens next. Talking about your work is a reward for writers who have already written. Set a rule that you don't get to talk about what isn't there yet. You don't get to have the dessert before you've done the actual work.

Bring in a small group of trusted alpha readers. An alpha reader is not a beta reader. Their job is to cheerlead, not to edit. I only bring in alpha readers for very long works (like, over 50k) where true endurance is needed. This is not sharing a rough draft with the world! This is not avoiding the rigors of having a beta reader, thou shalt still use a beta reader when the chapter is ready (if possible) and before it is released to a wider audience! (Because beta readers are about respecting the time of your audience and putting in as much effort for them as you expect them to put in for you at minimum, ie, reading over your own work and asking for a friendly second pair of eyes for anything you missed). Point is, when a long fic is shaping up to be a huge slog, it can indeed be hard to keep the momentum going. Inviting an alpha reader is asking, politely, for someone to give you a small taste of the rewards of sharing your story so you don't give in before it's done. However, it needs to remain a small circle so you don't give in to the temptation of never finishing or publishing the polished work. This is micro-dosing feedback to keep you going, not a replacement for doing the work!

Ok, I think that covers it!

[somany-fandoms-solittle-time]

“What’s so Special About the Moon?”

Jamil Viper x MC(insert character Mac)

(Ch. 1) – Ch. 2 – Ch. 3 – Ch. 4 – Next – Previous

This was originally supposed to be, like, a single chapter hurt/comfort before my OC (Mac) and Jamil as a song fic where they berate him and then sing a song referencing the moon… but then I had feelings and it’s becoming a more in depth character study between the two. Don’t worry! By the end of this mini series, there will be song lyrics and more sappiness… it’s just now that I’ve finished both Book 4 and Book 5, I need to reorganize the events and specific and whatnot. Some quick housekeeping as always: I tried to make Jamil to encompass both his dark & mysterious villain persona ALONG WITH him practically being a fucking child so that’s why I wrote him like *this* so yeah… I’m moving around the timeline so that Yuu/MC (aka Mac) has the weekend to GET THEIR SHIT TOGETHER LOL, Mac is about 19-20 (haven’t decided yet) and uses mixed pronouns as a heads up, Ch. 2 has a 1st draft written put still needs to be typed up and edited. If you see a typo NO YOU DIDN’T!!! This one of my first times trying a different writing doc that isn’t Google (cuz fuck Google) and it’s a little weird to get used to and edit stuff. It’s beta-d in the sense that licking the spatula while your mom bakes cookies and claiming that you helped… literally only a few paragraphs were checked over y’all.

Quick shout-out to @krenenbaker and @twst-beam for inspiring my writing thus far (and sorry for taking so long to post this lol!)

I’ll be releasing some type of overview of my OC eventually, but take these snippets as they go while I fall back in love with writing. You’ll meet Mac in full when xey are good and ready… anyway, please enjoy Chapter 1 of my new fanfiction, “What’s So Special About the Moon?”

“Here. You can use this one,” Jamil directed towards the plain (compared to the rest of the dorm) laundry… mat? There were several industrial sized washer and dryers, a couple moderate-sized one’s that would fit a regular apartment complex, and a long wall designated area for hand washed items. Jamil was keeping the door prompt open with his hips; his slight frown of concentration and the flick of his Magic Pen were the only signs of the current spell he had going. Turning around, MC was slightly surprised by the massive piles of fabric that was being corralled in via multiple a massive sheet tied to multiple brooms. They still couldn’t fully grasp the concept (and power) of magic and seeing it so casually performed on a day-to-day basis was kinda daunting.

“Thanks again for letting us use the space along with showing me how to properly clean all these fancy duds and whatnot.” the Ramshackle Perfect awkwardly trailed off. Their focus was split between stealing peaks at the Scarabia Vice Warden, not wanting to bother the already busy Sophomore, and surveying over the dusty, damaged antique pieces the two stripped from the halls of the previously abandoned dorm. Rugs, carpets, curtains, furniture covers (in varying state of disrepair) dulled of their once rich and vibrant color. The patterns were a mix of stuffy academia and the quiet comfort of a grandparents cottage living room. Both extravagant, yet understated. It’s a style lost to time, but not quite a revived ancient aesthetic.

At this point MC was fully lost in thought; they desperately needed to clean, fix, organize and decorate the dorm in preparation to host so many guests. Even with his limited memories, they had a feeling they’d never hear the end of it from his parents.

“Don’t worry about it much.” Jamil said, interrupting their musings. “Honestly, I’m doing this as much for myself as I am helping you.

With a flick of his wrist, Jamil organized the seemingly random crumbled piles of fabric by condition, color and use. His movements while cleaning were quick, smart, and efficient-- all while patiently showing Mac which order to start in along with the best way to clean them.

“Ya’ know…” MC broke the relative quietness between the two workers, “Even with everything thing that happened over break, I understand why Kalim still trusts you; I almost can believe that you’re not that bad of a guy.” Jamil gave xem a startled (and exasperated) look, but they continued before he could respond: “I fail to see how helping the person who ruined your ‘world domination’ plans—”

“They were hardly World Domination level!” He quickly snapped. His embarrassment led to him tugging his hood further down his face, teeth slightly clenched, and dilated eyes as MC continued listing all the ways he’s “helped” them out.

The magic-less Perfect laughed to themselves the more conflicting emotions flew across Jamil’s face. Eventually those same emotions were compressed behind a cold, smooth mask. Limestone slabs and stiff mud brick walls were swiftly constructed between the two working-class students. Something about it didn’t sit right with Mac.

“Hey I’m not saying what you pulled wasn’t a dick move! But you’re also not the first overly-traumatized teen boy I’ve had to deal with… and between what you’ve said about yourself, plus thing’s I’ve heard and seen, I’m starting to think you’re not nearly as complicated as you think you are.” The longer they argued *to* him, the more Jamil’s mask began to crack; there were a few holes in his walls he didn’t account for. Xe’s a tad more observant than I remember, but weirdly just as persistent, Jamil internally rolled his eyes.

“I could still change my mind and send you back to deal with the Pomefiore Wrath(tm),” He mumbled while gracefully lugging the newly cleaned (and damp) furniture coverings into an empty drier. Despite his harsh threat, MC still remembered him assuring the other this laundry room was only ever used by him after Kalim’s parties.

The large machines and larger working space was specifically added for the servant to clean and repair any decor or Asim Family Treasures when Kalim’s recklessness caused a larger mess than usual. This meant that Mac and Grim (who was originally supposed to be helping… where the hell was he anyway?) could do as many loads needed without worry. On top of the borrowed space, the Housewarden himself had cheerily has assured them, his Oasis Maker would replace all the water used ten times over!

Mac’s thoughts were interrupted once again as Jamil relented, “I told you, I’m doing this to help me.” After receiving an unconvinced eyebrow raise, Jamil began to explain, “Kalim might’ve announced us as equals but I still have a job to do. If he got sick while spending Allah knows how long in a dusty, dirty, shabby condemned building like Ramshackle I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“It’s not nearly that bad anymore!” the sole-human resident of said dorm argued, but was quickly shut up with a tired gesture towards the untouched loads of laundry left to be done.

“On top of that,” Jamil smirked “Even a common peasant like myself wouldn’t sleep in a rundown garbage heap if I can help it.” His smirk slowly slide off his face from his face as the insulted Perfect almost ripped the handful of soapy doilies, that they were previously scrubbing by hand, as xey prepared a retaliation.

“OK, first of all! This whole Inferior-Superior shtick isn’t going to prove your point. If I’m being totally honest, I’m pretty used to the bratty, arrogant attitude of teenagers by now (even if I wasn’t Leona is a thousand times worse).” They turned their full body to face the 2nd year boy before continuing the assault. “Secondly, even just doing the bare minimum would’ve been fine, considering I’ve slowly been deep cleaning them place room by room. This is just last minute cleaning considering I wasn’t expected to host six extra people in two days.”

The shock of Mac’s care and attention to detail couldn’t win over Jamil’s newfound freedom to be right… and sassy while doing it. “Keep in mind you wouldn’t be the only one having to deal with Vil. His expectations are much higher than my personal standards—”

“Getting there!” MC interrupted again. “It’s not like Vil and whoever else couldn’t magic things better or get things done over at Pomefiore.” However, their fire started to die down with their obvious lack of understanding of magic. Not that Xeir level of intellect ever stopped them from talking out of their ass during debates… even if this wasn’t exactly shaping up to be anything like Debate Club back home.

“Not the point!” Mac built back their steam after thoughtlessly shaking off any internal distractions. “Third of all,” Jamil groaned not-so-quietly, “third of all, you didn’t have to show me how to do it. Nor did you have to continue helping me. There’s only so much I could pay you back in favors and it’s not like you’ll make back the time and energy spent. You’re obviously a bit of a piece of shit but I don’t totally blame…”

Jamil suddenly gave Mac his full attention. He smoothed any emotional tells from his face and readied himself to actively dissect what ever left xeir mouth and any messages in between the lines. The silence prompted Mac to drip extra sincerity as they begin to ramble without thinking.

“… I get why you did what you did. You’re not totally forgiven, but it’s not like I’ll hold a grudge over you forever. Whenever I joke about Winter Break I thought you knew it was just that: a joke.”

The two stared at one another for a few beats. Jamil betrayed nothing that he was thinking, but Mac could practically feel the exasperation flooding off of him in great waves. The disbelief pushing and pulling off of him, despite remaining stone cold to zeir admission. So, of course, they continued with slight for fever:

“Yeah, okay, you held us all prisoner, enslaved via hypnosis your entire dorm, and nearly killed multiple students. Twice.” Mac cringed at their own blunt statement, “… But why would you go as far as you did, if you didn’t care! What your parents, and more specifically your culture, put you through wasn’t fair—but you obviously still love and cherish them!”

At this, he seemed to get even more guarded. It felt patronizing to be hold how he supposedly felt or why he should feel a specific way. They hadn’t been there. They hadn’t grown up as a Viper in the Desert, constantly reminded by Kalim’s Mirage of wealth what he could never have. They didn’t know the FIRST thing about the Scalding Sands—!

“… How do you know anything about my parents? Did Kalim--?!” He choked out infuriated at the mere implication.

“Relax Viper! It’s all in the Secret of The Ooze™”

“What?”

“Never mind…”

The usual absurdity of MC’s references (much to xeir chagrin that no one seemed to understand them) Jamil allowed himself a shadow of a smirk. Right about now they’d drop what they were saying and instead empathize with him over terrible bosses. They’d both fall back into a familiar pattern of quiet understanding while making playful small talk; maybe Xe’d make a remark over how “hellish” the desert temperature is and moan about being “a poor Northern forced into the sun” before dragging them both off to grab an abominably sweet drink that Kalim would still put sugar in. Xe had always been could at mediating with the other students at NCR.

However, they didn’t drop it. They continued to push him… especially when they realized that he expected the conversation to have ended and started to relax. Xey pushed and pushed and pushed. Finally, they had circled back to him rebelling from his status.

“What? You think I’d be Happier staying a lowly servant?! I’d rather cut my own tongue out than remain bending to Kalim’s will for the rest of my days.” He huffed, still not stopping his assault on the pile of laundry in front of him.

A frustrated sigh left Mac as Xey tried to get their point across, “THAT’S NOT WHAT I’M SAYING!… Obviously, you don’t love being forced into child labor or having to pretend to be something you’re not, but that doesn’t mean you’re totally being honest with yourself either. Rebelling adolescents often do a complete 180 of who they once presented as in an extreme action to feel validated.”

Jamil scoffed in indignation at the impromptu therapy session he’d been forced into.

“Just because you were forced to lie sometimes as ‘Servant Jamil’ doesn’t mean those memories or feelings weren’t authentic!”

“My Childhood, my Pride, my ENTIRE LIFE was stolen from me before I could even open my eyes, Mac! Who could cherish that sort of future?”

“I’m not disputing that! I’m not trying, in any way, to imply that what you went through didn’t fucking suck. But just because you’ve started saying the quiet part out loud doesn’t mean you’re being totally honest either. Switching one mask for another just means nothing has changed but your ability to bitch about-it to the kid you literally Grew Up With, Jamil.” A tired resignation was growing in their eyes as they headed to the end of xeir rant.

It was clear MC was starting to speak in circles and xey weren’t going to be able to get through to them. A heavy weight sunk deep in their chest, slowly sliding to xeir stomach the more he misunderstood the magic-less student. I saw him drown in the depths of his own helplessness and self-pity, but even after he’s been pulled out it’s like he can’t help but dive back in for a swim. It was a suffocating thought while Mac watched as Jamil once again went stone-faced… Like what he was about to say would be his final shield before walking away. It’s a shame that the Ramshackle Resident had become too used to throwing bombs over walls and blowing verbal shields to smithereens after months of being stuck in Twisted Wonderland.

“I’m not sugarcoating or bowing down to anyone anymore. I won’t bite my tongue. I won’t put on a Happy Face to Kalim’s idiotic, half-thought out ideas again. I’m slowly gaining my freedom, something you clearly don’t understand. Just because you’re as blind as he is doesn’t mean anything! What more could you want from me?!” He hissed his final insult before finally stepping away from his station. Not leaving the room, he aggressively got himself a cup of water from one of the sink and gulped the unfiltered water down.

“Just because you’re not hiding your bitter, knee-jerk reaction from an unfair world doesn’t mean you aren’t still hiding away and lying about your more vulnerable emotions.” Mac whispered in an emotionless tone. “Cutting a part of your past off and pretending it was never there is doing yourself a disservice and lying to those that still care about you… And there sure-as-shit isn’t much that I hate more than a Fucking Liar.”

. . . . . .

The lacy doilies sat in a sudsy basin, left forgotten as the two students stood a mere paces from each other—both maintaining an uncomfortably intense eye contact. The sloshing thump of the washers and stirring hum of driers harmonizing were the only song to accompany the two’s stare down. A short hiccup as Mac took a drawn out breath was the only reaction between the two of them. The combined heat of Scarabia’s sun (barely past 10am) and the humidity of continued use of machinery didn’t help the suffocating air in the wide laundry room. Not to mention the loud, stifling silence to boot.

MC usually held back such honest commentary (not that they weren’t blunt) unless Xe deemed it necessary: think high stakes and a sense of urgent drama. But something about Jamil and Kalim’s situation reminded them of himself. The two’s intertwined dance of class, history, loyalty and betrayal, friendship and loss, and such overwhelming guilt reminded the dimension hoping stranger of home. Whatever that meant.

But this was no time to get lost in their own problems and Trauma’s. They’d went too far (again) and that means xey should be the bigger person (again) and deescalate the situation before he hated them (AGAIN). Which means, MC would be the one to break the silence and run away again.

“Ya’ know what? Grim’s probably burned the school down already. Don’t worry about,” Ze gestured blindly to the numerous stations they’d started, “this mess. I’ll rope my little Rat Gremlin and the Freshies into finishing this up. Hell, I could probably convince Rugs to pitch in for lunch or something. Bully the Music Club with helping in exchange of random sheet music I still remember from home.”

Their rambles became more spastic as they noticed Mr. Sugar, Spice and Not-So-Nice break out of his own trance and try to reply. “Seriously! Just enjoy the break… Not that it’s my place or responsibility to be butting in anyway. I will be back in, like, 10 minutes and from here-on-out minding my own damn business. Sorry. Whatever. See you sometime after Sunday, I guess?” Their entire monoluge Mac was slowly backing out of the room before turning around in xeir spot and just short of sprinting their way out of the dorm. A few passerby Scarabia students stopped to eavesdrop on xeir muttering… watch them leave.

Without getting a word in Jamil stood unmoving, watching the Ramshackle Perfect leave swifter than the desert wind shifting the dunes. Almost on auto-pilot, he simply left to go back to his room and do as he was told; enjoy his break. His day off. The day he could do what he liked and didn’t necessarily have to prioritize work. A day he spent working to help and assist the pitiful, magic-less loser that was dropped-kicked into another reality and forced to play nice with a University filled with overpowered and hormonal teenagers while having no way home… And in return was insulted, psychoanalyzed, and thrown aside before he could get a word in edgewise.

“Son of a STREET RAT!!!!!” It was clear he’d need a few hours to calm down before he could even think of trying to enjoy the rest of his Saturday off.

[webbedphantom]

Shout-out to @caramialunaestelle for putting up with my stupidity for five years!

I'm a weirdo who likes to write down the anniversaries for ships that I have in my calendar so I can do like a small celebration, but this day specifically I have memorized because not only was the way Aaron got with her Makoto super cute, not only was this my first ship ever, but it's kind of the reason I still even do RP to this day.

See, back then I was still new to writing in general, and even newer to social media as a whole, so I wanted to get some practice on the former so that I could make my fanfic as good as it could be.

But Twitter is a lot harsher to bizarre concepts like Aaron, so I was struggling to get any replies with any of the people I reached out to. Worse yet, I didn't really know anyone in this space, so it was all I could do to just... make random posts and hope someone saw it. Which after a while got really demotivating, and I was honestly thinking about quitting.

But Kate gave my weird little guy a chance, and while we wrote together for like a month prior, we didn't really start talking until after we got shipped. How long after? That I don't remember as well-

I know this is mushy and sentimental, but I seriously can't thank them enough for this. There's so many friends I'd never have met, so many games and anime and just... THINGS that I'd never have experienced without them, a lot of it being things and people I can't imagine my life without.

And that's not even considering how much support they themselves have provided over the years, from proofreading, to helping me out with ideas for my AUs, to explaining very simple concepts like YouTube tutorials multiple times because my dumb autistic ass cannot comprehend it otherwise, to giving me feedback on my art, to being a patient, understanding and supportive friend who's always there when I need them and... Honestly, I could go on for hours and I probably still couldn't cover it all

Thank you for everything, Kate! You're the best!!

[I was going to re-edit this 👆 to say "Thank you" instead of Happy Birthday, and maybe add more of your current muses, but I'm currently mobile bound and I wanted to post this before I forgot, so I'll fix it later]

For anyone else seeing this, if you've read all of this and still aren't following them, you should do that. Right now. This is a threat

[iheartchv]

If you were still doing COD matchups, I would love one if it's not too much trouble.If not, no worries, can just say I love your stuff so far and keep up the good work!

Thanks so much if you have the time for it, but thanks either way if you're too busy! Cheers!

I'm a big fan of Soap, Ghost, Roach, and Keegan, but if any other characters stand out to you, I'm down!

I'm a 5'2 plus-sized woman working on getting my master's degree in writing and editing. I'd love to be an author and maybe a professor or documentarian someday. I love reading, photography, cooking/baking, and while I'm too poor to travel right now I'd love to do it in the future! I'm a history buff, a gamer, and a literature nerd that is laughably full of trauma/CPTSD but I'm doing alright so far.

My friends lovingly call me a "doormat" because I'm too nice, but really I just like to give people a chance and avoid snap judgements. I'm a very patient person and I think long and hard before making big decisions, although I can also be prone to impulse buys and jumping into things to avoid giving myself the chance to psych out.

I've often been told that I'm a very stoic individual with flat intonation, making me often look angry or bored even when I'm having a good time. I'm the kind of person who really comes to life when I'm with people I care about or talking about the things I'm currently fixated in. It always shocks people when they speak to me and I'm comfortable enough with them to joke around and let my "weird energy" out. I once crawled on my friends floor in college pretending to be a French tortoise because she said that I smiled like a koopa troopa when I was being devious. Je suis un tortue... She never lets me forget.

I also have a tendency to laugh hysterically when stressed or flustered and it has been described as sounding like a "maniacal drugged up clown."

🤡

// thanks ^^ I hope you like your matchup~

🤔hmmm... I match you with...

Keegan P. Russ

I think you'd be paired with Keegan

He may be quiet but with the right person he shows another side of him

That's where you come in

One night, you were being followed by someone

Luckily Keegan happened to be nearby and told the guy to scram

When he turned around to you, were met with the most gorgeous blue grey eyes... on such a handsome face

"You okay?"

"Yeah..." you'd give a nod

His voice made your heart jump and skip a beat

He offered to walk you home the rest of the way

He notices that you're carrying a book bag, figured you were probably a college student

"What're you studying?"

You tell him what your plans were for college and the future

Whether he was interested or was just listening to you, it felt nice to talk to someone

There was something about him you couldn't ignore....

He asks for your name, and he tells you his

You got so carried away with talking that you didn't realize you were home

He stops at your doorstep

You thanked him, trying not to show how bashful you felt

He just small smiled and replied,"Good night, miss", watching you walk inside before leaving

Every now and then you'd run into Keegan and he'd give you a smile that made butterflies tickle in your belly

For a local magazine/newspaper, there was a short story section that was looking for monthly stories to be submitted

You took the chance and wrote a short story, Keegan being your inspiration

The way you described the male protagonist had same features and qualities like Keegan... except the name was spelled different

When it was published, and after many compliments from the townspeople and your friends, Keegan read it

The story you wrote wasn't too far from the life he lived being a part of the Ghosts

Since then Keegan started getting close to you

And you didn't mind that at all

As he got to know you, the more silly side of you, he couldn't get you off his mind

He's falling for you...

After telling you his feelings for you, you happily accepted him

Because after knowing more about him, you had fallen for him, too

Now you two are inseparable

Some would say a "cute couple"

Keegan loves having you in his arms

He loves holding you, giving you kisses all over, just being so loving

He's so warm and caring

He didn't care if anyone would make fun of him

All that mattered was you and your happiness

His love gift would be acts of service

He'll do things for you: give you a massage, help you get comfy after a rough day, etc.

If he feels that something is bothering you, he wants to know

"Come on, sweetheart. You can tell me anything"

When your sad, or break down in tears, he will hold you and rock you gently, speaking in a soft, slow voice:

"It's alright. I got you, my love. I have you..."

He'll kiss and wipe your tears away

"You're always safe with me" he'd assure you

"I'm always here for you"

He swears to protect you with his life

If you'd like a love letter from Keegan, or other COD characters, check out my Valentine event💗

[mushiewrites]

( Hiii! Im a tkl+Dtqk Writer but im too shy to share any works yet🥺 )

Here’s one of my Lee!Dream HCs and a Lee!Sapnap HCs

( T W : feet tickles ) Lee!Dream : We know compared to George and Sap at-least dream is taller. So in the Dream house in George or Saps room theres a blanket he cant fit under all the way since George or Sap probs bought the blanket for themselves. OK SO NOW IMAGINE..Dream wrecking George or Sap and than them cuddling in George or Saps bed after he wrecks one of them. Their all really close together in proximity and George and Sap wakes up first.They get up and do some editing or whatever they need to get done since Dream sleeping is too cute 🙄 and after that whoever’s bed Dreams sleeping on wants to chill and maybe scroll thru twitter on sum on their phone alone ( what could they be scrolling through idk ;3 ). But Dreams there asleep.OK since he can’t fit under the blanket properly his feet are sticking out and..yk the rest ;) ( sorry this is more like a concept )

Lee!Sapnap : I HC that teases make the tkling worse not like in an embarrassing kind of way just like if he’s being stubborn and holding in his laughter and the ler teases him about holding it in it will make it impossible to hold it in anymore. And like it physically makes him laugh louder and blush more. I also HC that theres certain teases that if used will make him like hiccup or snort or something like that.Idkkk IT just sounds so cute for sum reason :3

(I wrote this at 4AM So sorry for any grammatical errors)

hello! I'm so sorry, I had this sitting here to answer and completely forgot that I hadn't! thank you for being patient though 🫠

ANYWAYS

oh my gosh the idea of dream being too tall to fit completely under a blanket ): that is so cUTE THIS NEEDS TO BE WRITTEN IMMEDIATELY because okay, the idea of dream wanting to cuddle into the blanket rather than keep his feet protected under it is adorable ): and the idea of sap and george just sneaking up and getting his feet while he is chillin, or even sleeping? just to watch him get all squirmy and giggly???? I will CRY the image of that is so cute

and oh my GOSH okay I share the same HC, but I think it definitely flusters him more as well. Sap cant handle hearing the word at ALL, so every new tease, especially if it has the word, just has him turn into a blushy giggly mess ): and oh my gosh the idea of him snorting or hiccuping through his giggles pls I'll pass away he's so heckin adorable ):

thank you so much for sharing some hc's with me <3 feel free to drop more whenever you'd like! I adore them so much

[folklauerate]

hi! i’m a big fan of your work and admire so much how much writing you post. i feel like we’re always being graced by something new and wholly lovely. it’s a real gift and i’m so grateful that you share your work. i write fic too and often wish i worked a little faster. i’m wondering if you’d be willing to share about your process. do you have a writing schedule? what are your writing “philosophies” if you have any? is your writing pace something you’ve worked to grow as a skill, or is it something that feels like it comes more naturally to you? and if i’m being overly curious, just ignore me! i’m interested in other writers’ process but know these can potentially be big questions to ask out of nowhere. thanks!!

Hello!!!

First of all, I apologize for not answering this sooner. This is such a lovely ask and a lovely question. I attempted to get my thoughts organized, got super sick in the middle, fell a bit out of love with even writing fic, and am now back lol!

I will attempt to organize my thoughts a bit for this question, but I'm known to go off on tangents, so I apologize if something doesn't make sense. Feel free to send another ask/dm me/comment/etc for clarification or any follow-up questions :)

Right off the bat--thank you for your very kind words :,) and thank you for taking the time to read my fics! I appreciate you so much.

My process is a bit wonky. I have actually slowly and recently become aware that I don't work the way a lot of my writer friends do--in a myriad of ways. Like, my output is not necessarily normal; in some cases, I am way faster than some other fic writers in terms of putting out work, and in other cases, I'm suuuuuuuuper slow, as there are people who update a couple times a week and finish long-form fics in a handful of months.

I think it boils down to this--I started writing fic because I just wanted to read a certain kind of fic--so I wrote it. I just wrote it! I sat down and wrote exactly the words I wanted to read and then I hit publish and kept going. Anytime I got an AU idea that was particularly gripping, I would just sit and write it and that was it.

I don't outline 99% of the time. It is rare that I do and I usually hate when I do it because it ends up as a last ditch attempt to get all my ducks in a row for a story that is giving me trouble and then the outline becomes really restrictive for me and then writing becomes tedious. I think it's important to note that writing fic, for me, is a really creative thing that I try not to put pressure on myself for, and the way I write my original work is really different. With fic, I will just sit and write and hit publish and I'm lucky if I do a proof read lol. I will quite often catch typos MONTHS later. Lol. If I'm being patient, I'll sit and re-read and re-edit a fic over the course of a few weeks and it's always better and more fully formed and trimmed in the right places and (in my opinion) better when I do that, but the thing is, I really don't usually do that!

That gets to the next bit--writing philosophies. There's about a thousand schools of thought and they're all garbage. The only one that matters is the one that you come up with and that works for you. Now, that doesn't mean that your writing philosophy and approach to the craft has to be entirely independently thought up by you, no. It can and probably will be an amalgamation of your own ideas and other people's ideas that work for you! But it should be a bit of taking from other's here and there and finding what works for you.

Mine is sort of like this;

For me, writing fic is a lot of things, but at the core, it is about creativity, freedom, removal from a capitalist need to produce/creation for the sake of creation, and a place to push my own boundaries. I write super wild smut or crazy out there AUs just to push myself to see if I can write it. I write an AU I come up with while driving in the car just because it gripped me and I want to. I write super fast because the idea just grips me and I want to exorcise the demon inside me and vomit it all up on the page and feel better. I've found that if I stray from that and I write for another reason, I usually feel pretty crummy about it.

This, of course, means that I don't have a real schedule or strict deadlines for myself or anything. I just write for fun and that's it! I am sure it's probably frustrating as a reader and I am sorry 😭 tbh sometimes it's frustrating as a writer knowing I'd probably have greater readership if I was more consistent with updates and wrote on a schedule and stuff, but that's my own fault lol, I just follow the muse. That being said, right now, I remain committed to finishing all my WIPs. I don't have a timeline for that, but I do remain committed to it.

Of course, I don't know how much of this is helpful for you if you're looking to have more discipline in your practice, so here are some more practical steps to write consistently;

put aside time each day to write, even 30 mins a day is good

SPRINT!!! sprinting for 15 mins and giving myself an impossible word count to meet really pulls me out of a funk and pushes me to write

follow your muse where it takes you and write what feels fun

on the flip side, you have to sometimes be the grown up and force yourself to sit down and write the bits you might be dreading or putting off, and you just gotta do them! this is where sprinting comes in

Your last question; my pace really has just come naturally, it's not something I've worked on or worked towards. It's been a bit of a "oh I guess that's there" lol. Discovering my normal and discovering what I can reasonably expect from myself both length-wise and time-wise (in how long it takes for me to write something) has been hugely helpful in budgeting my time moving forward while writing and setting realistic goals and expectations for myself. There have been times I have pushed myself--like with Bridgerton, Actually, which I wrote updates for weekly--and times where I let myself have a chapter update with a low for me word count and remind myself it is fine lol. The pace is the pace and it just... happens! I will say that if you're looking to get faster, ask yourself why, and try to be realistic if the quality is going to grow along with the pace, or if it will suffer. There have been times where I've taken longer on an update, knowing full well I could just slap something down on a paper and hit update and not care, but I instead made myself work through things, even when I didn't want to, and take time with them, because I knew it would be worth it for the quality. Sometimes, however, I've sacrificed quality for timeliness (Bridgerton, Actually is an example of that; I still think it's a good fun holiday fic, but it's only about 33% as good and fleshed-out as I wanted it to be, but that's my own fault because I didn't start writing soon enough ahead of time, and I prioritized my update schedule over quality, and that was a concession I had to make my peace with!), and that's okay too, if that's what you know you're going to do going into something!

I think I answered all of your questions but feel free to let me know if you'd like me to expand on something :)) thanks for the question, it wasn't invasive at all! I love talking about the process <3

[bi-buckrights]

Fic origin story

Thanks for the tags 🥰 @alyxmastershipper @monsterrae1 @spotsandsocks @rogerzsteven @prettyboybuckley

What was your first fandom (reading and/or writing)?

I have been on this godforsaken site for so long and I don't even remember what fandom I joined for... but I quickly joined the Superwholock fandom. I didn’t get into reading fic right away bc i made the mistake of reading a Dan and Phil fic (cringe I know) on watt pad and it SCARRED me. After recovering from that particular experience I read so much destiel fic

What was the first story you ever wrote (even if it was never posted) and what made you decide to write it?

I didn't start writing anything until a few months ago. Before then, stories just lived rent free in my mind and I would play them like little movies while falling asleep 😂

Then I shared a buddie dream I had and my lovely friends encouraged me to turn that dream into a fic 🥰 (Sometime Around Midnight)

What piece of advice would you give your younger fic-writing self?

Just write the damn fic if you want!

What's an early fandom interaction that stuck with you (be it a nice comment, a friend you made, a fic that got a lot of feedback etc.)?

This is the first fandom I ever started creating content for, first edits and now fics too, and the support I have received has just been so surprising and amazing 🥺 and I never expected to find real friends but I did ❤️

Post a sentence or two from an older fic and a sentence or two from a newer one (if you want).

From Our Love is Like a Storybook Story, my third fic but first multi-chapter fic!

The kiss feels like nothing has changed in all their years apart. But things have changed, and the kiss is a reminder that their love is strong enough to persist despite that. Here, in Buck’s arms, Eddie is safe, and each kiss feels like it holds their future.

And another from my most recent fic Bottled Poetry

Eddie can’t help but think about how these grapes were being grown and harvested the year he met Buck, followed by several years of waiting patiently until the perfect timing. In all this time that Buck has been in his life, becoming a part of his family and making Eddie fall in love with him, this wine has been aging to perfection – to be poured into glasses for Buck and Eddie to drink together.

I think most people have done this already but tagging a few just in case! @swiftiediaz @lostinabuddiehaze @ajunerose @spaceprincessem @bekkachaos

[janec23]

Writing question tag

Thank you @mariahwritesstuff for the tag, I love these questions! Here the original post :)

My quest to finish my tag games is moving forward!

I tag: @rickie-the-storyteller, @digital-chance, @romanceandshenanigans, @phynewrites, @harleywriteshit (if you did this already, sorry!)

Rules: Answer the 10 questions if you feel like it ^^

Questions at the bottom!

1. What is your absolute all-time favourite ideas you’ve ever had?

It's not really an idea, but I really want to crush the tabu about menstrual cycle. Half of the population on earth has period, so why not mention it in my writing? It's just part of my OCs life, so I mention it if necessary.

2. Is there a question you’ve been asked in the past that really stands out to you, and you still think about sometimes?

The question was: why do you care so much about your writing? You are a scientist and you care more on improving your writing style than your career. I know I can improve my writing and it makes me feel good, my career? Not so much... :/

3. What is your favourite part of being a writer? What parts could you take or leave?

Favourite: Feeling what my OCs are feeling while I write. I love becoming my OCs, think like them, act like them. Daydreaming about their adventures as well!

I would leave the editing, I hate it, I'm not good at it. I can rework scenes hundreds of times to make them better, but please, don't make me work on punctuation and cutting out stuff >.<

4. What is your greatest motivation to write/create?

Knowing that once I am done writing I will have another story to read and re-read that I enjoy when I am down. The confort of knowing my OCs will be there for me is undeniable ^^

5. What is the best piece of advice you’ve ever read or been given as a writer?

Become your OCs and write like you're them, act like them, write what they feel and think at that moment, do not over explain useless stuff only for the sake of the reader.

6. What do you wish you knew when you were first starting out writing?

The classic: show don't tell. I was 13, so you can imagine the pages spent on over-explaining every single detail of the world I was building. -.-"

7. What is your favourite story you’ve written to completion? Link it if you’d like and can!

It's a sequel of The midnight's witches, where I focus on Alessia. It takes place 5 years after the main story, she's 17 and facing a lot of challenges as the perfect daughter that is starting to explore the world for the first time. Without her mother breathing down her neck all the time she's finally free to date that guy.

8. What is your favourite out-of-the-box quote?

"Did that silver spoon got stuck in your ass, snobly?" Sneered Julien.

9. Which of your characters would you say has the most controversial mindset? Why do you say so, and how do you personally feel about their ideals?

This is a slippery slope. I would say Renewa. She's a healer and most of her patients are elderly, so she is suppose to cure them, but since the setting of the story is in a middle age kind of world, sometimes they don't want to suffer anymore and ask her to help them in other ways... And she does it. I respect the way she feels about it, she's just doing her best to ease their suffering, respecting their wishes. I made her to be controversial also in the novel.

10. If you, when you first started writing, met you now, what would younger you think?

She would be amazed at the amount of stuff I wrote, winning small prizes and pushing forward in my quest to improve. She would be happy to know fantasy do not extinguish when you grow older, but like wine it becomes better.

Questions:

1. What is your absolute all-time favourite ideas you’ve ever had?

2. Is there a question you’ve been asked in the past that really stands out to you, and you still think about sometimes?

3. What is your favourite part of being a writer? What parts could you take or leave?

4. What is your greatest motivation to write/create?

5. What is the best piece of advice you’ve ever read or been given as a writer?

6. What do you wish you knew when you were first starting out writing?

7. What is your favourite story you’ve written to completion? Link it if you’d like and can!

8. What is your favourite out-of-the-box quote?

9. Which of your characters would you say has the most controversial mindset? Why do you say so, and how do you personally feel about their ideals?

10. If you, when you first started writing, met you now, what would younger you think?