#this scene is fluff compared to what else i've got...

[seaweed-water]

from flesh and bone wip

“So, how are you today?”

Derek mirrors his position, returning his smile. “Fine. How are you?”

“Hm, I thought we were past this ‘fine’ stage. Tell me about your week,” Stiles returns, thumbs twiddling, a playful glint in his eye.

Derek spent the week trying to find more information about Dr. Stiles Stilinski, but his search has come up fruitless, save for the adorable yearbook photos Derek managed to find at the library. He flicked out his switchblade and cut them out, keeping them in his wallet and all to himself.  

“It was good. I started a new book,” Derek begins, his head tilting. “What’d you do this week?”

Stiles smirks and brushes his hand over his sweater, swiping out a wrinkle. “What book are you reading?”

“We Need to Talk About Kevin,” Derek answers, his eyes studying Stiles’ face. “You’re really not gonna tell me what you were up to this week?”

“Oh, you know,” Stiles says, his gaze peculiar as he studies Derek’s face. He reaches up to adjust his glasses over his nose, and Derek isn’t sure he’ll ever get over that—the way Stiles’ slender fingers touch the side of his frames, his head ducking a bit as he looks up from under his lashes and leans forward. It drives Derek insane, the negative image of it burned into his retinas, in full color each time he closes his eyes.

“A bit of this and that. I’ve been reading, too. What do you think of the book so far?”

“It’s a good thriller,” Derek offers, reading Stiles’ face. The clock ticks, and Stiles remains silent, waiting.

“Do you think psychopaths can fall in love?”

Stiles blinks and slants his head, eyes flicking between Derek’s, eyebrows drawing in a fraction as he considers his answer. “I think true love requires empathy, which people with antisocial personality disorders tend to lack. But to answer your question, yes. It may be their version of what they believe love to be—if they’ve convinced themselves it’s true, it is.”

Derek hums in response with a short bob of his head, holding Stiles’ gaze.

“Is that what you’ve gleaned so far, if psychopaths can love?” Stiles asks him, his tone curious.

Derek shrugs. “Some of it, yeah. It just seems like someone with so much passion would be capable of such a thing.”

This makes Stiles smile, his gaze tender and curious as he studies Derek as though he were looking for the edges of a crack to peel away and peek inside his head. “I’m inclined to agree with you,” he says, leaning forward as his elbows rest over his spread knees, locking Derek’s gaze in. “Speaking of passions… tell me how your work out sessions are going.”

Derek chews at the inside of his cheek, annoyed Stiles won’t let them have a real conversation that doesn’t revolve around Derek’s feelings. He swipes his hands over his knees, blinking.

“They’ve been fine.”

Stiles purses his lips, eyebrows lowering in disapproval. “I’ve got a new rule. You’re not allowed to say the word ‘fine’.”

Derek smirks and leans in, elbows on his knees. “Okay. They’ve been good. I don’t stop myself anymore. I feel so… uninhibited when I keep going. Like someone else has taken over for me.”

The loser in the second-story apartment was killed a month ago; no one’s pissed Derek off enough to consider beginning a new chase since then. The perpetuous itch has been scratched, for now, but already Derek can feel it surfacing, the monster inside him clawing his way out from the bottom of the well.

Stiles’ fingers interlace, his thumbs pressing together. “That feeling you get is called abandon; it’s a catharsis when you allow the id to take over,” he says with a curl at the edge of his lips, “I’m proud of you, Derek. Giving in is honoring the truest part of yourself.”

Derek swallows, his eyes washing over Stiles’ face, breath hitching on an inhale. Without lifting a finger, Stiles has touched him from the inside; a warmth spreading within him from his heart to the tips of his ears, the words pulsing through his limbic system like wildfire ripping through dry brush. Something has awoken in him, igniting every raw, unchecked impulse lying dormant beneath his skin, and Derek thinks he would do just about anything to hear it again.

[propertyofwicked]

SCANDALOUS - OP

summary - in which oscar discovers what type of books his girlfriend is actually reading

warnings: 18+ allusions to smut, but mostly fluff

this is my first oscar piece and i am considering a part 2! lemme know what you think! <3 (also sorry for disappearing my life has been all over the place)

masterlist the playlist

as they arrived at the silverstone track, oscar and y/n could feel the palpable anticipation in the air. navigating through the crowds was something y/n could only compare to her idea of personal hell. people everywhere, sporting the bright colours of different teams, people approaching the two of them, holding out hats and phones for oscar to sign. if this was friday, y/n hated to think what the rest of the weekend would be like - hopefully she could arrive later than oscar and avoid the hustle and bustle.

"are you going to be okay here?" oscar asked softly, concern evident in his eyes, as he led the two of them into mclaren hospitality. he wasn’t blind, if anything he could read her emotions better than he could read his own - he knew she was overwhelmed, but not quite at breaking point.

"yeah, i've got my book and headphones,” y/n replied, patting her bag quickly, “i'll find a quiet spot,” she added with a nod, giving him a reassuring smile.

“i’ll see you in a bit, yeah?” he asked her again, holding her wrists softly in his hands.

“i’ll be here,” she replied, still smiling as she stepped up onto her tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips.

y/n watched as oscar left, before turning on her heel and trying to find a cosy corner, tucked away from the commotion where she could read her book in peace. and as she sat with her back to the wall, she couldn’t help but feel grateful that no one could walk behind her and glimpse at what she was reading. her flushed cheeks may slightly give it away to anyone who recognised the book, but as she flipped through the pages she was met with nothing but pure, indulgent smut. it was a guilty pleasure that she seldom admitted to enjoying, and whilst she was more than content with oscar, she was too shy to admit she’d want him to do more than half of the acts she reads about.

maybe next time, she should bring a murder mystery book with her, instead of reading 82 pages of unforgiving sex scenes that are described in such detail that she could almost imagine how oscar would recreate it beautifully - yeah, maybe not the right thing to be reading at your boyfriend’s place of work.

“hi,” a voice interrupted, causing y/n to jump quickly as she looked up to see one of the hospitality staff stood in front of her, “i was just wondering if we would be able to steal this chair? i can find you somewhere else to sit - it’s just a guest would like to sit here.”

“of course,” y/n replied, smiling up at the nervous girl before moving to shove everything back into her bag, “i probably should go on a walk anyways.”

“thank you so much, and sorry for making you move - the guest is a sponsor, so they expect us to move heaven and earth to accommodate them,” the employee added with a grin.

“i understand,” y/n replied, laughing lightly as she stood, “your hair is so beautiful by the way.”

“thank you,” the girl smiled, blushing at the compliment.

oscar had been engrossed with his team, discussing strategy and making adjustments for the practice session, when he realised it had been several hours since he’d seen his girlfriend. and once the practice session had finally ended, with a full team debrief, he made it his mission to find her.

"have you seen y/n around?" oscar inquired casually, glancing over at lando who had walked into hospitality with him.

"yeah, she was sitting in the corner over there," lando chuckled, gesturing towards the quieter section of the hospitality area, “….but she’s not there anymore,” he added, trailing off as he noticed the empty chair.

"thanks mate, glad you’ve still got those keen observational skills," oscar replied sarcastically, “don’t know what i’d do without you around.”

“hey! i was just telling you where i last saw her!” lando defended, holding his hands up, ”she’s probably in a quiet corner somewhere, reading that book. she’s probably the only person that didn’t notice i’d even walked in earlier ‘cos she was nose deep in it.”

“sounds about right,” oscar hummed, pulling his phone out to shoot her a quick where are you text.

sure enough, oscar found y/n in a quieter corner, still engrossed in her book. he approached her quietly and gently tapped her shoulder. y/n looked up, removing her headphones and quickly closing the pages before smiling warmly at him.

"hey there, lost track of time?" oscar asked, sitting down beside her, pulling his legs up to his chest as his back leant on the wall.

y/n nodded, "yeah, i guess i did. how was practice?"

"pretty good," oscar replied, "we made some solid improvements. what about you? what are you reading?"

y/n hesitated for a moment, a flicker of defensiveness crossing her expression. "oh, it's just a book. nothing special."

oscar raised an eyebrow, sensing her reluctance to share. "come on, it can't be that bad. is it some secret spy novel or something?"

y/n chuckled nervously. "no, nothing like that. just... personal. i'll tell you about it later, maybe."

"alright, fair enough," he replied, "ready to head back to the hotel?"

y/n sighed with relief. "yes please.”

“that bored, huh?” he asked as he stood, extending his arms to help pull her from the floor.

“not bored, just-”

“overwhelmed? hungry? eager to see me after a shower?”

“always.”

“good to know,” he added, draping his arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her forehead, "you know, you're quite the mystery sometimes," he teased gently as they began to walk to the car.

"keeps things interesting, doesn't it?" y/n smirked, “no fun in being predictable.”

they arrived at the hotel room, and as they settled in, the atmosphere relaxed. y/n flopped down on the bed, and oscar joined her, laying his entire body on top of hers, her hands moving to stroke along his back softly.

"so, how's the book?" oscar asked again, with a playful glint in his eye.

y/n rolled her eyes playfully but couldn't suppress a smile. "it's good. maybe i'll let you read it someday."

"wow, such a privilege!" oscar feigned shock, “but how would i ever repay you for such an offer.”

"don't push your luck, piastri,” she replied, her arms grabbing his sides in attempt to push him off. he laughed, rolling to the side to lay next to her.

"alright, alright. i won't push. but seriously, thanks for coming with me today. it means a lot."

y/n's expression softened. "of course. i wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

oscar leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "i'm lucky to have you, you know that?"

y/n's eyes sparkled with affection. "i think we're both pretty lucky."

“i’d be even luckier if you let me read that book of yours,” he grinned.

"you're ridiculous.”

"only for you," he replied with a grin, his arm reaching across her waist for his fingers to draw circles into the skin of her stomach. his head dipped, trailing kissed along her clothed shoulder, until he was resting on his arm, hovering over her slightly, his lips finding their way to the skin of her neck.

“please,” he whispered, kissing along her jaw.

“fine,” y/n replied with a loud huff, pushing herself up from the bed to retrieve the book from her bag. oscar remained on the bed, resting on his side and using his arm to hold his head up as his eyes followed her across the room.

she launched the book at him, watching as it landed just shy of his stomach.

“come and join me,” he beckoned, shuffling himself up the bed, book in hand.

“i’d rather stand here, actually.”

“ok weirdo.”

the room fell to a silence as oscar opened the book, choosing to open at a page in the middle.

“why is this all highlighte- oh. OH. oh wow,” he spoke aloud, grimacing slightly in between raising his eyebrows at the literature, “this is - is that even possible? how has he got her leg up there?”

“you can stop now,” y/n begged, climbing on the bed and stretching over in attempt to snatch the book from his hands.

“no, i don’t think i will,” he teased, raising the book above his head, though at an angle where he could still read it, “ ‘…..he said, grabbing my other leg and placing them both behind his head’ - this girl is flexible jesus.”

“oscar piastri you give me that book right now.”

“ok! ok!” he said defensively, “….on one condition.”

“…what?” y/n responded cautiously, noticing the way he smirked at her.

“you tell me, is this something you wanna try?” he asked, “the things in this book? is that what you want?”

“minus the kidnapping part….maybe?” she replied, fiddling with her fingers.

“maybe, huh?” he teased, placing the book to his side before grabbing her waist to pull her into him. y/n straddled his lap, though desperately tried to look anywhere but his face, desperate to hide the flush of her cheeks, only worsened by looking in his eyes.

“honestly, i just wanna know if im that flexible,” she replied with a laugh, still playing anxiously with her fingers whilst trying to fight against her own awkwardness.

“i know you can get at least one leg up there,” oscar joked, fingers tickling at her sides playfully, “although, you’re not very good at twister.”

“we have played twister ONCE. and i was drunk. you cannot hold that against me.”

“drunk or not, your foot was still dangerously close to going up my ass.”

“and yet no assholes were harmed.”

“speaking of.. does this book mention anyth-”

“if you think you are putting ANYTHING up there you are very much mistaken mr piastri,” y/n argued, holding his jaw in her hands to make her point clear.

“mr piastri? i prefer da-”

“NOPE! LA LA LA,” she interrupted, quickly covering her ears before he finished his sentence.

“im kidding, im kidding,” he laughed out breathlessly, holding on to her hips as his body shook with laughter, “so about this flexibility thing.”

“let me stretch first,” she told him, kissing his lips softly. y/n moved to climb off him, only half serious about stretching, but his hands stayed put on her waist, pulling her back into him. he kissed her again, a hand traveling up her body to rest on her jaw and he deepened the kiss, his tongue swiping her bottom lip briefly.

“no need, i know a good way to get you warmed up,” he told her cheekily, his lips returning to her neck once more, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin below her ear.

“oh really?” she replied, her eyebrows raising at the suggestion, “please, go on. tell me more.”

[mermaidsirennikita]

what would you say are the biggest trends when it comes to romance novels getting published nowadays and how do you feel about them?

Oh gosh, that's hard to say. In part because I am both deeply NOT on trend in what I seek out, and on trend in that I read a lot of ARCs from trad publishers? Who aren't the only trendsetters by any means, but are the ones with the most $$$.

(This got long so some of it goes under the cut.)

—Romantasy. Obviously. I hate the term romantasy, I think it's literally just made by marketers

(digression: I don't care if a random TikToker came up with the name, the nebulous thing that it IS... pure marketing, there is no definition, and I truly think that genre has to have DEFINITION to be a genre or even a subgenre, it can't just be what one random person thinks it is; you can genre-bend, play with it, but the people you are directing your product to needs to know SOMETHING about what they're buying; I'd compare it to selling a necklace and calling it jewelry without telling the buyer what the stones or metals ARE)

but undoubtedly this is a huge trend. There seems to be a biiiit of paranormal romance making a return with this—see: Kresley Cole's IAD rerelease books being marketed as "romantasy" when there's very little romantasy about that series.... But overall you see the connection to shows like Game of Thrones, etc, within them. Tons of dragons.

—Romcoms continue on. Lots of low stakes romcoms. I do not like these. A lot of the time they blur into women's fiction. The women's fiction blur I think has something to do with Colleen Hoover (though most of her books aren't intentionally funny) but also just publishing trying to capitalize on romance without committing to romance. Emily Henry is a good example of this. Sally Rooney is a more ~literary example. Jasmine Guillory. Etc etc.

They're impossible to really figure out, imo. Are they gonna be hot? Are they gonna be funny? Are they gonna be emotional? Yulin Kuang's How to End a Love Story is a great example of a book that is, to me, near-perfect. It's ABSOLUTELY a romance novel. But is it a romcom? Not really. It has funny moments and a beautiful HEA, but it's a VERY angsty book. Yet I saw it marketed as such.

—Kickstarter campaign books on the indie side, plus other ways to sort of circumvent the tradpub issue while also not... losing as much money. Several big time authors (in and out of romance) have seen huge success with Kickstarter; obviously, it's harder for small-timers, but still possible! I also know of authors who've written chapter by chapter on Patreon and given their patrons special goodies before publishing the book.

—Genre diversity for authors. A lot of authors in the past wrote under one genre or subgenre, then had to use a pen name for anything else. Amanda Quick was Jayne Anne Krentz's historical romance pen name, for example. Now... I don't think people are as strict. Sierra Simone has written erotic historicals, contemporary, dark romance, monogamous, poly, m/m, m/f, f/f, m/m/f, f/f/m, romcoms, etc. Sarah MacLean is dropping a contemporary (not romance) novel soonish. I see this as a good thing all-around. Pen names are cool, but I don't think they should be a MUST.

—Less angst, more fluff. THANKS I HATE IT LOL. I'm gonna say something controversial (apparently) but this is my honest opinion: It is not a story if there is no conflict. What you wrote was a scene. Perhaps a very good scene! A very long scene, maybe! But there is not a STORY unless there is CONFLICT.

Now, I don't know if I've read a book with ZERO conflict. But I've read many lately wherein the conflict was so thin... I felt the story had little substance. Not every conflict has to be ANGST ANGST TRAUMARAMA. A book I recently didn't LOOOOOVE but whatever, I'll accept it as an example, is Heaven, Texas by Susan Elizabeth Phillips. The heroine and the hero are not in danger of losing their lives. Their conflicts are internal. She loves him but doesn't feel like he'll ever genuinely love her, he's a dipshit who essentially doesn't want to accept that she's the one because he a) has a hard time trusting women in general b) has a specific idea of what his life is going to be that was disrupted when his career ended unexpectedly, and he's still working through some shit on that.

Nobody is at gunpoint, nobody is cheating, nobody is doing one last job. They're just... struggling with their feelings and their senses of self. (If the hero hadn't crossed ONE LAST LINE, I think I would've rated that book higher, but it's a testament to SEP understanding conflict that I can dislike the book and still say "solid conflict".)

I just see a lot of authors shying away from serious conflict, and I wonder how much of it is because readers keep complaining about it. And yeah, bad conflict... sucks. But conflict does not inherently suck. I don't want to read 800 pages of PWP or pointless slow burn. I need PLOT. I need ACTION. And I think we can have low-conflict books and high-conflict books in the same market! But it feels like publishers (and perhaps some authors) don't feel confident in that.

Which is why your girl has realized that a lot of the books she loves are like... 10+ years old.

—Historical specific... the unproblematic 1800s white people. I want to make it clear: You can absolutely write politically progressive people of bygone eras well. The Duke Gets Even by Joanna Shupe has a heroine who's outspoken about women's rights and reproductive freedom. Joanna places this against political occurrences of the time to make it flow easily, AND I think is actually pretty real about the heroine having to give some things up to be with the hero (a duke) even though he supports her and doesn't expect her to be a conventional duchess. Some sacrifices are inevitable. Adriana Herrera's An Island Princess Starts a Scandal has a great portrayal of semi-openly queer women in 19th century Paris... and that's something that totally existed and again, flows well.

It's not that I'm a stickler for accuracy at all. See: my love of Alexis Hall's Something Fabulous series. But I think that you either have to lean the fuck in to not being super accurate like they do, OOOOR you have to make it flow. When we suddenly have a duke being like "AND BTW I'M A FEMINIST" I don't fucking buy it lol. I need to see growth, and I need to understand why he has these views. I think there's a lot of low-effort shit being done to make historicals appear more progressive. And while I do think HR has a lot to reckon with, if that's the only way it can continue to exist... It feels as if that subgenre has to exist within a structure that we don't necessarily expect from other subgenres. Not a lot of billionaire romances (and that's still popular, despite what some may tell you) have the hero going "LET ME STOP AND EXPLAIN HOW I'M AN ETHICAL BILLIONAIRE".

I think that romance needs to be aware of its environment and progressive; I also think that romance requires some suspension of disbelief, and I think we're seeing a lot of white guilt driving some newer historical romances.

Because to go back to Adriana Herrera... That's a woman of color writing very politically aware historicals, while at the same time FULLY diving into the escapism and wish fulfillment and all the things people should be able to get out of a romance novel.

(And btw: All the things marginalized groups should be able to get out of romance novels! A Shore Thing by Joanna Lowell is an amazing romance novel with a trans hero, and I've gotta say, the book confronts transphobia, sure, but there is such fucking delicacy and it BY ZERO MEANS drives the fucking book, and I find that really important. That the hero is existing. That Adriana's heroes and heroines exist. And so on.)

[sluttyskullowner]

"drunk on jealousy" Rodrick x fem! jealous! Reader

TW: (story is supposed to be angst into fluff) this story includes; yelling, arguing, alcohol //abuse//, underage drinking, jealousy. she went out back to the party, walking over to her younger sister Holly. "Where's Heather?" Y/n asked, avoiding talking to anyone in the room that she forced a smile when they passed by. "Uhm..." Holly pondered, before pointing out Heather who was rolling her eyes to Rodrick's flirting attempts. Y/n felt her fist ball up before she stormed over to some guys who were serving totally not alcoholic spiked drinks, She snagged at least 4 of those and gulped them down. The taste was terrible, A mixture of strawberry, bubblegum and cotton candy packed up into only a few drinks, After Y/n chugged the drinks she stole someone's redbull that was halfway empty and forced it down her throat to be rid of the horrible taste in her mouth. Y/n soon enough was drunk enough to stomp over to Heather, who started bragging about how much she was enjoying her party. Y/n grabbed Heather by the arm, who turned to look at our drunk little pissed off queen. "Ew, What do you want?" Heather aked, disgusted. "We're twins, It's our birthday, stop saying it's yours." Y/n corrected Heather, glaring up at her blonde preppy sister who just glared back. "Who the hell do you think you're talking to, Y/n!?" Heather yelled, beginning to cause a scene. Heather wants to cause a fight? She'll get one. Y/n began to yell at her, her fist balled up and fuming with rage. "We're siblings! How are you this much of a dick to me?! To fuckin' everyone?! Hell, The guy who I've loved for almost three years is obsessed with YOU. You fucking HATE him, And you know I like him-- Like the bitch you are!" Y/n yelled right in Heather's face, glaring harshly before Heather slapped Y/n across the face, Which made Holly, Heather, Y/n, Rodrick and everyone else either flinch, their eyes widen or gasp. Y/n got pushed back a little by the slap, staring at her hand that was holding her cheek a moment ago. Y/n screamed, launching at Heather before grabbing her hair, pulling it and beginning to start a fight, Until a few classmates pulled Y/n off of her sister. The enraged drunk girl panted heavily, glancing over at Holly before her friend.. before Rodrick. Y/n quickly ran out of the party, holding onto her dress while looking for a place to let the tears fall that teased her eyes like how her sister had teased her for years, she eventually hid behind her house and began crying so much that her makeup was ruined, before she heard rustling, before she could react though, someone sat down next to her, she turned her hair to see who the culprit was and her eyes widened to see the infamous Rodrick Heffley again, y/n's eyes softened before looking down at the ground. "Go ahead, Laugh at me.." y/n said softly. "what?" Rodrick asked, confused and a bit concerned for her. "You aren't gonna laugh at me? Really? I just made a fool of myself.." y/n whimpered, rubbing her eyes before sniffling. "I'm the wrong person to compare that too, y'know.. Remember Heather's sweet sixteen?" Rodrick chuckled. "you mean.. my sweet sixteen? yeah i do. i just went out and got drunk with my friends, though for the two weeks i heard about someone ruining heathers part-- ohh! Oh shit, that was you?!" y/n yelled, grinning with a laugh. "damn, good work there. yeah, that was me-- a full accident though." rodrick laughed, messing with his dark brown hair. "do you uhm.. want to hang out with me and my band? we can play you something special for your birthday?" rodrick suggested, smiling bashfully. "..really?" y/n questioned, rodrick just gave a single nod in response. "yeah, i'd like that.." y/n said, dreamily before wiping away her ruined makeup.

[chocolatepot]

Re: my point in that other meta post about assuming that scenarios people write fic about = their expectations for canon -

@pearwaldorf's tags: #fans' sense of story is not always the creator's sense of story#the narratively interesting as opposed to the desire to resolve a fan's most pressing issue

@bizarrelittlemew's tags: #oh yes and the last point is especially important tbh#even when i write canonverse fics it doesn't mean that's what i think should happen in canon#or what i think did happen (in case of missing scene fics)#it's just playing in the canon sandcastle within the bigger sandbox where i usually build my own castles#it annoys me to no end when people assume non-existent intent on the author's behalf

This is something I started thinking about at some point during Prisons of Our Own Perceptions or maybe something else angsty. Because, for one thing, canon just doesn't have that kind of angst! I don't/didn't expect the canon to get very explicitly dark in the way of angsty fic - compare how things go down with Ned Low to what happens in whump fics where another pirate comes in, tortures people, and causes trouble.

I interrogate my characterization/dialogue A LOT, so I'm always asking myself, "Can I hear Rhys saying that as Stede? Would Ed throw another 'fucking' in there?" And this step gets difficult when writing a non-canonical level of whump, because I'm trying to figure out what they'd say in a situation that would never happen on the show.

Some people do write their version of what might happen in the next season of canon, or something like that. But I think most of us are writing what seems fun to write for various reasons, and "actually feels like a plausible episode/chapter of canon" doesn't really come into it. Even fic that's more plausibly canon, there's often a wayyyy bigger emphasis on comfort or explicitly exploring trauma than you'd ever see on a show (which is half the reason we're writing it). Often, I think, this kind of departure from canon gets treated as a fundamentally different category from darker fic because the idea is "this is what canon would do if it slowed down and gave them breathing space," but ultimately they're the same - the writer is creating a scenario that pleases them that wouldn't be how canon would do it.

I've written multiple reunion fics, and none of them were what I thought canon was actually going to do - they weren't attempts at prediction. Momentum was about getting them into position for Feriowind's artwork. Sweet Damsel was likewise based on a particular image, but one I had in my head. would the sun for thee more coldly shine was for a vague prompt about injuries, and I liked the idea of Ed finding Stede while Stede was hurt, to put his concern up against whatever negative feelings he might have about Stede leaving, because I thought that would be an interesting story. Likewise, I seemed not one for such man's love was about Ed holding onto his negative feelings but also getting sick and being tended by Stede (closest thing to a true prediction, but I certainly didn't think it would be). And First Night Home imagined a way less fraught reunion than canon got, for once, because it was for a domestic fluff fic fest.

In all of these, the way the reunion went was to serve the point of the plot and relationship dynamic rather than to guess at what might actually happen. The same thing is true of other types of fics, really. The story comes first.

[itsclydebitches]

I need to re-watch the scene for exact details, but I've been thinking all day about Nate's failed Diamond Dogs attempt and why it crashed and burned so hard. I mean, the obvious takeaway is that there is none of the love and support from which to build that kind of group at West Ham. As Beard lays out for Trent in the same episode, they're laying bare their innermost thoughts, feelings, and experiences. If you don't trust the people in the room (which Nate has no reason to yet - it strikes me that they're left in this awkward silence while waiting to officially begin, rather than the casual camaraderie we see in Ted's office) and if there's no respect (which there isn't, particularly between Rupert and Nate: Nate is catching on to all of Rupert's manipulations - what name to call him, cheating with his secretary, etc. - and Rupert just straight up refuses to see him as a person) then of course the core foundation of what the group is built on will crumble.

However, beyond that I also think intention is important too. The original Diamond Dogs forms because Ted needs advice about sleeping with Sassy. He makes himself vulnerable to the very group he's forming as a way of modeling what the Diamond Dogs are all about. In contrast, Nate's first meeting feels more like an excuse to brag. Yes, he does have a similar problem to unpack, namely the question of how he should navigate this relationship, but that felt secondary to me, with the excuse to tell these top dog (pardon the pun) men that he's finally landed a maybe girlfriend forefronting his motivations. Remember, Rupert was meant to be in the room and Nate makes it clear that this meeting is not really about the group helping each other, it's about them paying attention to his partial success/continued worries. The fact that the other guy (I don't even know his name, which speaks to the lack of bonds in this room) wants to talk about taking care of his ailing parents but Nate shuts him down kinda says it all. Compare that to Beard graciously telling Ted that he has the floor and then, once Ted is done, he asks if anyone else has a problem to unpack, including Roy. Nate's Diamond Dogs, beyond lacking the relationships necessary to work in the first place, feels like it's built on his own, stubborn self-interest; it was an attempted replacement for Rupert/formerly the social media/formerly Ted. What outside force is building up my self-confidence nowadays, especially when Richmond is on a winning streak? Nothing except a maybe girlfriend! Let's try to create a new source of validation.

Nate has undoubtedly improved a great deal throughout this season. I actually thought at first that he was improving too quickly and with, to my mind, no narrative explanation. It was only when I saw other fans pointing out the power of getting distance from those who have enacted real and perceived harm (AKA the club and Ted) that Nate's kinda-offscreen growth made a bit more sense to me. However, now I'm actually glad to see him failing in these ways. Trying to talk to Ted after the game, spotting Rupert's manipulation, fluff family time that makes no mention of his father's expectations, a perfect end to his terrible date, not caring that his box got crushed, not spitting in the mirror... it felt like the show was absolutely speed-running Nate's redemption arc because it's the last season, rather than allowing him to organically struggle with these issues and face on-screen events that act as a catalyst for his growth. To say nothing of how the show argues very strongly that growth has to be modeled/supported for an extended period of time... and Nate is without both this season, yet still seems to 'magically' be improving. Given where we left him, I kinda feel like I'm watching an alcoholic suddenly overcome their addiction while working in a brewery. Yeah, of course that's possible... but I very much expected this to happen in a different environment, or at least with far, FAR more support. So now, despite only having three episodes left, I'm reassured by the backslide. Nate refuses to wave to Ted in front of the crowd. He's still trying to suck up to Rupert, both over text and in person. He forms a group that, although oh-so-obviously modeled after Ted's, is really just a Nate the Great show. It feels like the show remembers that he has too much to work on to 'fix' it all with a girlfriend storyline. Nate is a very complicated character who needs a great deal of screen-time to come back from where we left him last season; frankly, more screen-time than he can feasibly get with just a few episodes left and a cast this large. Despite the potential pitfalls of that though, I think it's good that the season is reintroducing some of that complexity. Nate isn't just on a winning streak of his own with soft looks cast towards Richmond photos and an adoring girl in his bed. That need for external validation is still very much there and he's never going to fully come into himself until he realizes what the himbo boys did this season: Belief isn't a sign up on the wall, or a kind coach, or a girlfriend, or a Diamond Dogs group. Those all help support you, yes, but ultimately it has to come from within.

[izzythehutt]

for the ship thing, walt/skyler?

I regret to inform the internet at large that I did, in fact, kind of ship them. Everyone else in the fandom out there defending their right to ship Walt/Jesse and I'm over here in my weirdo corner defending Walt's unhealthy, toxic relationship with his for realsies wife.

There's never a moment in BrBa where I didn't buy their relationship and the history between them, which I think is really key to making the entire premise work. You had to really understand why after she finds out about his criminal life Skyler doesn't just turn him in and they sold me on it. It was a masterstroke to make it motivated not from fear (at least at first), but from her love of her husband, her sentimental attachment to the image of their family she wants the kids to have, and her own natural pragmatic nature.

my favorite or a defining moment

Their defining moment is the phone call in Ozymandias. I don't think anything more encapsulates their relationship than that—the fact that Walt has utterly destroyed their lives with his selfish actions but is also heartbroken over Hank's death and is completely willing to take the fall to protect her and in spite of everything they've gone through and the deterioration of their marriage and souls she knows him well enough to understand what he's really doing and lets him know she understands. Runner up is the conversation after he collapses on the bathroom floor and asks her if she's glad he's finally dying Anna Gunn's face :(

My personal favorite moments were all in late S3 early S4 when Skyler pushes herself into his criminal enterprises against his will and becomes Walt's naggy concerned mafia wife. The scene where she comes over to his condo and he tries to hide his blackeye with the door frame never fails to crack me up (I find her protectiveness of him weirdly cute.)

My favorite moment is when they're lying in bed together after the awkward (but kinda hilarious) re-consummation of their marriage and just having super banal domestic talk (Skyler pointing out she's gotten a haircut and then laughing when Walt says oh, yeah, I was definitely going to say something about it :')) and then Junior comes home and they're trying and failing to hide that they had sex from their disgusted teenage son. It's the closest the show ever got to family comedy/fluff.

whether they’re wholesome (affectionate), fucked up (affectionate), fucked up (derogatory), or boring

They veered into fucked up (derogatory) in early S5 and kind of never really left that place (though at least he finally stopped lying to her) though they did have some genuine moments of honesty in the latter half of the show.

a song I think captures their essence:

Poison and Wine by the Civil Wars

A Sister Ship

Uh Ozai/Ursa from ATLA tbh? Ursa and Skyler are both on board with murder if it means the safety of their children. Also Lord and Lady Macbeth, which I'm pretty sure Peter Gould straight up compared them to at one point. what kind of AU I’d like to stick them in

One where he doesn't kill Gus, because that's the moment where their relationship went from high-key dysfunctional and effed up in an entertaining way even though you know it's unhealthy to just...terrifying.

I've always liked the idea of AUs where Skyler somehow gets to spend time with Jesse/teams up with him, because Walt spends so much of the show trying to keep those two apart from each other lest they reveal all his weaknesses/sins, and I find the idea of them double teaming him hilarious because you know Walt would hate it. I kind of wrote that in Spin the Gun but I've thought of other iterations of that I like.

Now I'm picturing some weird AU of the end of S4 where Walt successfully gets the family to the Disappearer and when Jesse shows up too because he doesn't want to be left behind by Mr. White Walt convinces her to let him be part of their new assumed identity family.

Bonus: They aren't on my top ten list, but they were the only romantic relationship in BrBa that I actually had a strong investment in.

[writer-in-theory]

💫 🌈 💝 for the writer asks :)

thank you!!

Let's Get ((REAL)) fic writer asks || Send me an ask

💫what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback? Okay so like most comments will get me to smile and if it's more than a few words I'm probably crying. But but but the ones that I save are usually ones where people took the time to theorize about what was happening next, or do their own lil mini-analysis of shit because like?? you enjoyed what i wrote so much you're thinking about what's coming next?? huh??

🌈is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with? I immediately thought about Trust in the Time Warp. I spent weeks on the first part and I'm spending so much time on this second part of it. There's a lot of research I'm doing, a lot of thinking behind the scenes where if one thing changes then how does three seasons worth of events change alongside it? So it may be a little shorter compared to other things I've worked on but it's definitely taken up a lot of my time comparatively (in a good way, I adore this fic).

💝what is a fic that got a different response than you were expecting? I definitely did not expect the amount of love that Happy Birthday, Eddie Munson got. It was just a sweet little idea I was writing to lowkey recover after writing something particularly angsty, it was more for me to work on those fluff skills more than anything else so it made me really happy to see people loved it so much.

[nieded]

I posted 1,680 times in 2022

That's 135 more posts than 2021!

52 posts created (3%)

1,628 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@kookaburra-laugh

@tut557

@kedreeva

@flantasticclaude

@trebornosnibor

I tagged 938 of my posts in 2022

Only 44% of my posts had no tags

#queue away! - 96 posts

#good omens fanart - 96 posts

#ofmd - 41 posts

#sebastian vettel - 39 posts

#good omens - 35 posts

#rainbow road - 35 posts

#formula 1 - 34 posts

#ni speaks - 31 posts

#daniel ricciardo - 29 posts

#good omens fic - 29 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

#but just imagine for a second that they did and what that would be like knowing that he threw a party on the day of her husband's funeral

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I've love a little teaser from Accept a Little Spin!

Have some tumblring! This Part Two of #Rainbow Road

@ajconstantine & @kookaburra-laugh

13 notes - Posted September 12, 2022

#4

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandom: Good Omens (TV) Relationship: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens), Sandalphon (Good Omens), Gabriel (Good Omens), OCs Additional Tags: Alternative Universe - Human, Alternative Universe - No COVID, Alternative Universe - Sports, Screenplay/Script Format, Rainbow Road

Summary: Hey babe, wake up. New season of Drive to Survive just dropped.

S5: E6 "How Do You Solve a Problem Like Ezira?

Synopsis: Newcomers, GO Force 1, bite off more than they can chew when signing on former Formula 3 champion and Formula 2 veteran Ezira Phale as their second driver.

------

Yes, it's here! I got inspired after watching S4 of Drive to Survive, so now you get their episode with some additional behind the scene insights.

Thank you to @the-bentley for the beta!

15 notes - Posted April 8, 2022

#3

Hey, for any #rainbow road followers, I was thinking of writing up a post explaining how the Russian invasion of Ukraine is directly affecting Formula 1. It ties into the concerns addressed in the author notes about F1's decisions to continue holding races in places like Russia, Qatar, and Saudi Arabia.

Obviously, the concerns of a multi-billion dollar international sport is low ranking compared to everything else happening right now, but looking at how other nations and corporations respond to the situation can help determine how it affects operations globally.

So, I'm just putting feelers out there. It's been a rapidly changing situation while F1 starts pre-season testing. Shoot me a comment or ask if you want to know more. I am tentatively drafting a post.

Eta: let me know if you want to be tagged so you see it, thanks!

17 notes - Posted February 25, 2022

#2

Accept A Little Spin

It's the 2023 season, and sophomore driver, Ezira Phale, is out to prove he's worthy of his seat at McLaren F1 as the world tests the boundaries of his confidence and his relationship with IndyCar driver, AJ Crowley.

This is Part Two of a three-part series. While this story does cover some difficult topics and has challenging moments, I promise you that the reward is utter fluff. Part Three is in progress. I have written about 10k and will be spending NaNoWriMo completing it. It will most likely be shorter. And sweeter.

Again, this story uses CSS so it's important to read it with the 'creator's style' or work skin on. The story is COMPLETE and will be updated on a routine schedule. Massive thanks to @the-bentleyBentley for beta-reading and cheerleading, @dustandhalos for the wonderful artwork, and the F1 Discord server for giving me an opportunity to scream about F1 literally every day. Special thanks to @kookaburra-laugh for the you-know-what at the place with the thing.

74 notes - Posted September 30, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

TOP TEN FICS OF 2021

All right, after reading @kookaburra-laugh's fic rec list of 2021, I decided to make my own. This is in no particular order, my favorite stories I read this year (even if they all weren't written in 2021).

1. The Way We Are by @entanglednow, E, 2k

I personally enjoy stories about real sex, which is weird to write about snake!Crowley, but it certainly feels real and loving. This story is less sexy and more just romantic and supportive. It changed how I view and write Aziraphale.

2. Omens of Another Kind by WorseOmens, NR, 189k

Do you want an immersive setting with high stakes, a rich fleshed-out alternate universe full of magic and wonder? This story is so good, I couldn't put it down.

3. (Slow) Burn, Baby, Burn by orchidlocked, E, 279k

This is maybe my favorite story I have ever read, ever. I love the setting. I love that it could easily slide into a canon timeline. I love that they are still supernatural, but the emotion and stakes are so very human. This story doesn't shy away from difficult themes, and it makes the universe so rich. It doesn't hurt that it also comes with a fantastic playlist. Please, please give this a go. You will not be disappointed.

4. Curse of the Witchfinder by KitschyKit, M, 2k

I have this story under a tag in my bookmarks called, Makes Me Feel Seen. It's a story I come back to again and again about an unusual protagonist, Shadwell, and the burden he's carried throughout his life grappling with his queer identity. It's a love letter to the older generations in the LGBTQ+ community, and I love the role Crowley plays here as well.

5. out here making news by sabinelagrande, G, 1k

Featuring bastard!Aziraphale, this is the Untitled Goose Game/Good Omens crossover you didn't know you needed.

6. side effects by darcylindbergh (@forineffablereasons), E, 7k

This gut-punched me and falls under the tag Makes Me Feel Seen in a big, big way. I come back to this on the days I'm feeling my worst not because it makes me feel better but because it makes me feel less alone.

7. Faster Than a Speeding Bentley by nightbloomingcereus (@moondawntreader), M, 76k

God, this story is delightful. It has all the best comic book archetypes while still feeling true to Crowley and Aziraphale. This story scratched a huge itch I had for a good superhero AU.

8. A Shifting Spectrum of Grey, by PenroseSun, E, 21k

I can't fully express how this story makes me feel. It's aching at times and so beautifully written and explored.

9. Part and Parcel by sabinelagrande, E, 2.5k

If you haven't noticed, there's a theme in my list about identity and acceptance, and this is a very hot, hot way to go about it. I just love anything with Crowley and gender feels, and this hits the spot.

10. Dinner and Diatribes by KitschyKit, E, 8.5k

Please heed the tags. This is a love letter to consensual non-consent. It's well-written, excruciatingly hot, and so loving, but of course, it's not for everyone.

104 notes - Posted January 2, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[dokoni-mo]

She Truly Was || Muzan Kibustsuji x F!Reader

Summary: Enmu helps Muzan remember you.

SFW // Fluff with small amounts of Angst

Word Count: 4626

WARNINGS: *slight Mugen Train spoilers*, slight mentions of implied sexual activity, obsessive(?) behavior, Muzan is soft for one person only, some angst, mentions of injury, mentions of blood, I also barely proofread this lol

A/N: I've had this in my head for a while and decided to write it down. This is largely just a compilation of scenarios I made in my head to fall asleep at night when I was stressing over exams and stuff, all loosely thrown together with a plot. This is my first time writing for demon slayer, so please be patient! I also am basing a lot of my info about the characters on s1 of the anime, some of the manga, and the wiki. I apologize if something isn't accurate. tldr; I just think he's neat.

~~

Despite having lived through thousands of years with hundreds of stormy nights in the midst, Muzan Kibutsuji never learned to appreciate them.

Something about nights like those in Japan just never sat right with the demon. It wasn't that they were too dreary, not at all. Life as a demon was plenty dreary. On the other hand, it wasn't that they were to lively either. No one ever went out on stormy nights; demon or not. Perhaps it was just because the rain was another reminder of the singularity that was being a demon. The poignant pitter patter just seemed to have a way of whispering to whoever heard it, telling them the most unpleasant yet quiet truths of their lives.

After Muzan's bloody meeting with the lower moons, he had told Enmu his task Muzan had planned for the pitiful, weaker demon. Although he had doubts that Enmu could hear him over the sound of the weaker demon's screams of pain from the blood he gave, Muzan was pleasantly surprised when Enmu understood the orders the first time around. Seeing as though it would cause trouble if the lower moon started to go around bragging about his newfound power and job, Muzan decided it would be best to keep a crimson eye on the demon.

This is what led to the scene before Muzan now.

Muzan had taken Enmu back to one of his many properties scattered across Japan, this one being tucked away in a lush, quiet forest in the middle of seemingly nowhere. The lower moon had not said a word throughout the entire journey there, and still refused to say anything now. Most likely out of fear.

Although it had been a long day of wrangling the lesser worms he called pawns (or "moons" if he was generous), Muzan did not want to show any weakness towards Enmu by resting. To busy himself, Muzan decided to do the tedious work the humans have him do in the job he took to please his human wife.

That insufferable woman.

With his bowler hat placed on his desk, Muzan had taken a seat in his large, leather chair, ordering Enmu to stand at the edge of the desk and face the opposite way. And, for extra edge, he was not to say or do anything.

It had been about two hours since then. The room was filled with only the sounds of Muzan's writing and the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner.

Although he ordered it to be that way, Muzan was already sick of it.

Peering his red eyes up from the papers scrawled below him, Muzan fixated his bone-chilling gaze upon the back of Enmu's head. Muzan could see the corners of the lower moon's mouth turned upwards as he faced the wall, presenting himself with an expression of dumb content.

Freak.

Enmu was definately a curious specimen. So eager to die, yet so eager to please Muzan. The demon lord would have been confused if he were not who he was.

Perhaps it was his own boredom setting in, perhaps it was because he wanted to feed his already gargantuan ego, or perhaps it was just because he was tired, Muzan decided to speak up.

"Tell me," Muzan said, his deep, smooth voice making Enmu perk up slightly, "Why is it that are you so loyal to me?"

Enmu took this as an opportunity to finally move, but not without some caution. The lower demon only turned his neck towards Muzan, along with a tilt of his shoulder. Muzan noted the disobedience of orders, but decided to let it slide this time.

The rain must have told him to be generous that night.

"Why, Master Kibustsuji," Enmu said, a faint blush adorning his cheeks, "It is because I am so delighted to be in your presence, and have my power be of service to you."

The demon lord felt his jaw clench at this, his red eyes peering up at the lower moon from under his abyssal lashes. Although Enmu had an... odd, way of putting things, Muzan always did like it when someone stroked his ego, even if all they ever said was the same banter over and over again. He was nearly perfection, afterall.

Muzan sat quietly and pondered Enmu's response for a second, before formulating his own.

"Your power, as you put it," Muzan said, his voice firm, "What is it?"

Enmu's grin widened, "Dream Manipulation, Master. I can enter, manipulate, or control anyone's dreams however I want to. I can use it to kill from the inside, eating a person spirit first and body second. I can also put people to sleep."

Muzan wasn't necessarily impressed by this, but he wasn't disappointed either. An ordinary power, really. Nothing that could ever rival his own.

However...

Muzan's gaze flickered down to the surface of his desk. A flicker of a long lost yet not forgotten feeling bubbled deep inside of his being. A mere spark of light, really, a piece of warmth he felt from long ago, lost to the wayside by the vestiges of time.

It was something Muzan thought he would never experience again.

Dream manipulation, huh?

It might be worth a try.

Muzan looked back up to Enmu, sharpening his gaze, "Tell me, are you able to give... pleasant dreams?"

Enmu was surprised to hear this come from Muzan to say the absolute least. He took this as another opportunity to disobey orders and turn to Muzan again, this time fully and whole-heartedly. The lower moon looked right into those blood red eyes, looking for any sign of a rare flicker of humor or joking.

Muzan's gaze was serious, poised as ever.

Muzan was being for real.

Taking a pause to swallow, Enmu allowed his soft smirk to return to his gray, pale face.

"Why," the lower moon retorted, "I can, Master, yes."

Muzan eyed the lesser demon for a good second at his response.

This move was risky. It could damage his image. Yet, if he was to do this with any of his pawns, he would do it with Enmu. Enmu seemed to have no intent on harming Muzan or his image in any way; he was far too loyal for that.

Besides, if someone were to question the might of Muzan, he could just prove them wrong.

Muzan leaned back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other and lacing his fingers together, wrapping them around his knee. His icy gaze still on Enmu, he spoke again.

"I wish to see a pleasant dream."

Muzan nearly rolled his eyes when he saw just how wide Enmu's grin had gotten and just how flushed his face got.

It was repulsive.

But, if it meant what Muzan thought it would mean...

It was worth stomaching.

After a breif moment used to compose himself, Enmu's smile faded to normal again. He pulled up the sleeves to his coat.

"I will give you a dream where you will experience the happiest days of your life over again, Master Kibutsuji," the lower moon stated, "Is this to your liking or would you prefer something else?"

"No," Muzan stated flatly, "That is fine."

Perfect, even.

Enmu smiled widely one last time, holding out his arm and pointing it at the demon lord.

"Sweet dreams, my lord." Was the last thing Muzan heard before falling into a deep, deep sleep.

~~

"Muzan..."

Despite his blood demon art being so much weaker than his, Muzan wasn't quite ready for just how Enmu put him into a dream like that. Muzan's headache had grown ten-fold now, and he could feel that his face was scrunched.

"Muzan..."

Slowly but surely regaining his full consciousness, Muzan could first feel that he was in different clothes than what he had been wearing before. These ones were lighter, softer, and much more airy than his normal suit. Squinting open his crimson eyes, he saw that he was in what appeared to be a long, dark, flowing kimono.

The second thing Muzan could feel was that it was rather cool where he was, and that he appeared to be lying on the ground. Sifting his weight slowly, he could then feel that his head was lain upon what felt like two soft, plush pillows firmly squished together.

The third thing, however, took him a little longer to discern quite that it was. At first, he thought it was a pair of chopsticks running across his scalp over and over again. Upon, further thought, however, Muzan was further snapped back into awareness.

Those were not chopsticks.

Those were fingers.

All too familiar fingers.

"Muzan..!"

Muzan felt a stir deep down inside of him. He recognized this feeling, this touch, this warmth. It had been so, so long since he had felt like this. How long was it again? It had to be an eternity ago. An eternity wrapped within all time time in the world.

Muzan was speechless. Muzan couldn't move. Muzan was struck from deep within, and nothing in the world could ever compare to its blow.

"Muzan!"

Although the calling of the demon's lord name had been going on for some time now, he was just now able to respond.

Tilting his chin upwards towards the voice's source, Muzan nearly fell to bits right then and there. If he was someone else, he would have wept deep, earnest tears at the very sight of the being above him. For everything and nothing surrounded him as he studied the bright, radiant face above him, and nothing else seemed to exist other than that smile.

Other than her.

Her.

Oh, her, her, her.

His beloved. His sun, moon and stars. The ground beneath his feet and the air around him. His joy and love, his woes and sorrow. His fears and excitement. His warmth and his cold.

You.

You were really here.

"I was wondering if you were ever gonna wake up," you said, a faint laugh behind your voice, "You were out for so long!"

This scene was all too familiar to Muzan. He had replayed it in his head countless times, as if it were the only record left in the world.

He knew what this day was, and he knew all of your lines.

How could he ever forget?

Every moment he had ever spent with you had been a blessing.

Right now, his head was cradled in your lap, your soft, delicate fingers combing through his hair oh so gently as he had slept. It was deep into the night, and ordinarily Muzan would not be sleeping at this time. However, your touch was just so relaxing to him.

Everything about you was.

Today, you and him had spent the night wandering through the garden of your home together, chatting about anything and everything. It was only about two months into your relationship with Muzan. Muzan had first come to your home with the intention of eating everyone within the residence, but once he saw your face, watched you, saw your heart, your spirit, your you, he just couldn't.

He just...

couldn't.

You were human, yes.

But Muzan didn't care.

He was in love with you.

Muzan had yet to tell you the truth about him, however.

But that could come later.

"Muzan, are you alright?" He heard your voice echo again, snapping him out of his trance. He saw your face painted with worry, making his own features soften.

His darling angel. If only you knew just how much it pained him to see you with anything other than a smile.

Muzan reached his hand upwards, steadily maneuvering his fingers to brush your hair behind your ear and cup your warm cheek. He was shocked at how real you felt, shocked at just how similar it felt to all those years ago.

Perhaps Muzan had to give Enmu a reward.

The demon lord caressed your cheek gingerly with his cold, calloused thumb, savoring in just how warm your flesh was compared to his. For the first time in what felt like eons, Muzan felt a smile adorn his handsome features. Not one put on just to appease the humans around him, but genuine. The type of smile only you got to see.

Only you.

"I'm more than alright, my darling." He responded, his voice soft and warm, without the normal venom he gives to his subordinates. A voice reserved restrictively for you.

Finally, you let a soft grin come over your heavenly face again, making all seven of Muzan's hearts swell.

"I'm sorry if I woke you up," you said, "But it's about to be dawn soon. I don't want you to get a burn, so let's go in the house again, okay?"

Ah yes, the lie Muzan told you. He, of course, couldn't be with you in the sunlight (as much as he wanted to). So he had told you that he had a rare disorder that made him extra prone to sunburns and heatstroke.

Just something to keep you safe from the truth.

His soft smile still adorning his features, Muzan gave you a nod as he slid his head off of your lap. Since you were on your knees, you were quicker to stand than him. Brushing off your kimono quickly, you offered one of your hands to Muzan to help him stand, of which he gladly took. He had long since forgotted just how perfectly your hand fit into his, along with how radiant your kimono made you look.

Once he was back on his feet, Muzan couldn't help but to hold your arms, holding you a few feet away from him to simply admire you for a moment, his crimson eyes doing laps around your face and body.

You were perfect to him.

Every single thing about you was without flaw in his eyes. Not one curve of your body was too shallow or too wide. Not one strand of your hair was misplaced or without poise. Not one feature on your face took away from your radiant beauty. And you had not one bad bone inside of your body.

Muzan was never one to believe in angels.

However, if anyone in any part of the world were to tell him that you were one of them, straight from the heavens themselves,

He would believe them.

~~

As soon as Muzan stepped through the door, his hand in your own, the scene before him changed in one giant, peaceful flash of white light.

Before him now was no longer the house that he had shared with you all those years ago. Now, in its place, was a beautiful, lush springtime garden, all dredged under the cover of the night. It was not devoid of light, however. There were a few lanterns afloat in the water of the stream, as well as some within the structure of the small bridge that went over top of it. Flowers adorned every nook and cranny of the space, and the occasional insect or bird would make a brief appearance.

A small slice of paradise, just for you and Muzan Kibutsuji.

Fearing that you were no longer by his side, Muzan turned his head. His fears were quickly subsided when he saw you there next to him. Your delicate hands were placed on the railing of the bridge, and your eyes were fixated on the calm water below, almost as if it were a window into the heavens above. There was a small smile plastered on your face, and the delicate lights illuminated each of your features so perfectly.

Muzan knew this night.

This was the night he told you the truth.

The truth about him, about his "condition", about where he went for days on end, about why he couldn't walk with you in the sun, about everything.

This was the one night Muzan had ever felt fear.

"Is it really true, Muzan?" You asked, your gaze still fixated on the water below, "Are you really a demon?"

Muzan felt his lips part in small surprise. Even though he had replayed this night time and time again in his mind, it felt as if this were all happening for the first time over again.

Enmu really was good at this.

Muzan wet his lips before responding, setting his gaze on your precious, beautiful face and refusing to move it, "Yes, my love. It is true. I would not lie to you about this, I..."

A pause to collect this thoughts, before he could continue, "I kept it from you to protect you, (Y/N). I did not want any harm to come to you. My darling, I... I love you. My love for you knows no bounds. You are the stars that shine at night, and you are the shining moon above. Each time I look upon you, all I can stand to think of is how deep my love for you runs. I... I need you, (Y/N). I do not wish for you to be frightened of me, my angel. I would never, not ever harm you, nor let any harm come to you."

You still weren't looking at Muzan, yet your smile had yet to falter. Muzan felt a bubble of nervousness in his gut. Although he knew your response to his words already, even thinking of this moment never failed to make his stomach churn. He hoped his words to you were enough. He doubted that he had ever said anything more truthful in his entire life.

After a long pause of silence between the two of you, you closed your eyes and widened your smile. Then, you opened your eyes again, finally turning to face your lover. You looked Muzan right in the eyes, seemingly unfazed that you were standing so dangerously close to the most powerful being alive.

You were so brave.

Your heart was so big.

Muzan felt so overwhelmed.

"Muzan," you said, your cheeks dusting a light pink.

What you said next to him, Muzan could never get out of his head, never forget. No matter how much he tried, he would never not ever forget your words in that moment.

Within that one short, simple phrase, the king of demons fell in love all over again.

"I've always known."

~~

Another flash within his crimson eyes, and the scene had changed again. Nighttime again, of course, but this time within the confines of the bedroom you and Muzan shared. Both you and Muzan were nude, sans the blanket that covered the lower half of your forms. Muzan was on his back, one strong arm wrapped around you, the other cradling the back of his head. Your legs were intertwined with his, and your hair and hands were sprawled out on top of his lean, muscular chest.

Muzan knew this night as well.

It was his most loved night with you, but also his most dreaded.

How cruel fate was.

Stroking your back with the tips of his fingers, Muzan stared up at the ceiling above the two of you. Your body was flush against his, and as warm as ever. He wondered to himself if he was making you cold. If he was, you didn't seem to mind.

After a long period of savoring the silence between you and him, you softly snorted out a cute, soft giggle. This made Muzan angle his chin downward to look at the top of your head.

"What is it?" He questioned.

You giggled again, tilting your head up to look at him. Smiling, you turned your body to lay on top of the demon king, your breasts smushing against his own. Instinctively, Muzan laid his hands on your hips, rubbing small circles into them as he held you in place.

"I just find it funny that even though you profess to have so much stamina, you get tired after only two rounds." You explained to him, a playful mischievousness in your tone and eyes.

Muzan breathed out a smile, reaching up a clawed hand to brush your hair out of your face.

"As I recall it, you were the one complaining it was too much." He quipped back.

You snorted, "As if that ever stopped you before."

The demon let out a soft chuckle, leaning forward to give you a kiss on the forehead. Muzan couldn't remember ever laughing so genuinely before you came along. You truly were the light of his life. You filled his days with the sunlight he had long since forgotten, as well with the warmth no other demon could ever have.

He loved you.

He loved you he loved you he loved you.

And he still did.

He watched as you dropped your gaze to his chest, running your fingers along the flesh.

"Muzan..." you said, your voice more serious than before, "I've been thinking a lot lately..."

The demon king hummed, brushing more hair from your face.

"What has been on your mind, my love?" He asked.

You paused for a second before continuing on. Muzan could practically see the gears turning in your head.

"Well, I... I'm not getting any younger, you know, and I've been thinking. I... I really love you, Muzan. You're the only person I can imagine myself being with for the rest of my life. The other day, I was in town, and I saw the cutest family ever with a husband and a wife and two adorable little children, and it made me think..."

You looked up at him again, giving him a soft smile.

"What if we were to have a family of our own?"

Muzan could feel the same sense of joy, love, and pride in his chest as he did this same moment all those years ago. In this moment, he had never felt closer to you before, nor could you recall ever looking more beautiful.

He wanted nothing more than to be a family with you for the rest of eternity.

"Darling, you know what that would mean, correct?" He questioned you. He had told you long before that demons could only have offspring with other demons, for a demon baby would eat its human mother from the inside and kill her. It was gruesome, and had originally made you cringe at the thought. Muzan had thought your reaction was quite cute.

"Yes, yes, I know," you answered, "and I'd be ready for it. Even if I'm a demon, and even if I can never go out in the sun again or live normally ever again, I'd be happy knowing I got to be with you and our baby for the rest of time."

Muzan gave you a smile in return, his long, white fangs flashing in the light of the night. Leaning forward, he kissed you upon your soft, warms lips, gently pulling you closer to him.

This was one of the thousands of reasons why he loved you.

You were always so sweet, so kind and optimistic. He would admit, he did have a soft spot for you and you alone. But he didn't care. You were worth it. You were worth every single piece of money on planet earth. You were worth the sun the moon and the stars, and all the planets here and beyond. You were worth any injury, any heartache, and any trial or tribulation in the world.

The king of the demons unquestionably, unfathomably, undeniably, adored you.

Pulling gently away from the kiss, Muzan looked deep into your eyes, right past your pupils and looked right into your soul, your very being.

"I would want nothing more, my sunlight."

If Muzan could turn back the hands of time, he would have kept you here with him for the rest of everything and beyond.

For he did not know then that was the last kiss you and him would share.

~~

Another flash, and Muzan was no longer greeted with a visage of the past. Much to his dismay, the demon was now greeted with the sight of his office, with a smiling Enmu creepily watching him from across his desk.

What a fucking freakshow.

Taking in a breath of air through his nose, Muzan sat up tall in his chair again, rubbing the bridge of his nose with this thumb and pointer finger.

You were gone again. You were again nothing up a memory, a whisper of a time from the past.

Muzan could hardly bare it.

He had felt you, held you near him.

And just as fast as you came back, you were gone again.

This was a pain almost too hard to bear.

How long was he asleep for? Muzan really didn't care how long it was.

No amount of time with you was enough.

"Did you have the pleasant dream you wished for, Master?" Enmu asked the demon king. The lesser moon was lucky Muzan was in a somewhat good mood that day.

"Yes." Muzan replied simply, closing his eyes to rub them with his thumb, "Excellent work."

Enmu's smile widened at this, his cheeks turning pink again.

"Why, thank you, Master." He responded, his excitement prevalent in his voice.

Enmu really was a special one.

After composing himself again, Muzan scooted his chair forward up to his desk, fixing his gaze back onto his work sprawled out below.

Muzan just wanted to be alone again after that. He had been alone for years now, but he wanted Enmu out of the room. Although he could have easily ordered it to be so, he again did not want to show any weakness to the lower moon.

Christ on a bike. Muzan was so fucking stubborn.

He remembered all the times you nagged him for it.

Oh, what he would give to have you nag him one last time.

After a long bout of silence, the lesser demon decided to speak up again. He turned his head over his shoulder again to Muzan, trying to sound as naieve and innocent as possible.

"Master," Enmu said, "Where is she now?"

Muzan stopped his movements and glared up at Enmu with a venomous glare. How dare he even refer to you. You were so far above him, how dare Enmu even think to invoke your name.

Though Muzan wanted to kill the other demon right on the spot, he decided against it. He still wanted to see how Enmu would do on his mission. Also, Muzan had to admit that he did feel lighter and more generous after his dream with you. And he supposed it was fair that Enmu had his questions.

Feeling nice, Muzan decided to entertain Enmu's question.

Shifting his gaze back to the papers below, Muzan replied.

"Gone." he said, "The night she asked about a family was the last night I saw her alive. The next day, a group of slayers found her and our house. They knew who she was and that she was human, but killed her anyway. All in attempt to get to me. I found her in a pool of her own blood, limp and cold. The slayers died that same night."

Enmu's smile faded at this, his face taking on a look of shock. Closing his lips into a tight line, Enmu looked away, out of a quiet unconscious respect. Everything made so much more sense to Enmu now. Why the demon king was the way he was, his hatred for slayers, his cold-hearted, murderous nature.

It all clicked into place.

"I... I am sorry for your loss, Master." He said, his voice quieter than normal, "She seemed like a lovely woman."

Muzan peered up at the back of Enmu's head. Through his thick, black lashes.

"Yes..." Muzan said.

"She truly was."

[parchmentedpetrichor]

➳the girl in the lilac dress ♠ ♡

in which y/n meets fred's ex-girlfriend, days after fred confessed his love for her. there's still some confusion on the status of their relationship. angst -> fluff. narrated by you, y/n l/n.

fred weasley x fem!reader

word count: ±5.4k

tw: angst (not too bad though), mean words, blood, mentions of auror missions, kidnapping, needles, st mungo's

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ft. hermione, lee and alicia

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you

I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you

the girl in the lilac dress

i was in a good mood. on the way to work to receive my mission, i was humming a song that had just come out. it was catchy and worth the wait.

out of the corner of my eye, a lilac colour appeared suddenly. strange, i thought. it approached me, in the form of a beautiful woman. she had the lightest grey eyes and the smoothest milky-white skin, and the shiniest locks of dark brown hair. she walked in a flowy lilac gown, her slim model-like body walking in a model-like fashion.

i was pretty sure she wasn't headed towards me, but when her luxurious voice said "good morning" in the calmest tone possible to me, i looked at her confusedly.

"hi!" i replied brightly, smiling.

she smiled sinisterly, "my name is pretoria aphrodite, i'm fred's ex-girlfriend."

he hadn't ever mentioned an ex, but i knew he had dated quite a few people. she made me seem like a glass of water next to a glass of red wine, naive and ugly. i was those two things anyway.

"oh! i'm y/n l/n! nice to meet you, you do seem like a daughter of aphrodite," i said politely.

"darling, all women are daughters of aphrodite. i understand fred's interested in you?"

she observed me and i laughed.

"i don't think that's quite the word. he's my best friend."

"friends with benefits?"

"oh gosh no! i don't really know where we stand, honestly."

"bitter about it?"

i thought for a second, "nah, i couldn't be. love's a hard thing."

"it is, indeed, and you work for the ministry?"

i nodded, "head of the auror office. what about you?"

"i model for witch weekly."

i gasped, "you're the p. aphrodite? i should've known!"

"big fan?" she looked amusedly at me.

"my friends are, so naturally i am."

"you don't seem the type fred usually goes for."

"i wouldn't say he's even going for me," i said cautiously.

"you are much too cutesie for his type."

i glanced up at her. she was smiling kindly.

"pfft, but better cutesie than nothing, amirite?" i asked friendlily, "well it's been nice to talk with you, but i gotta hurry!"

"no worries, i'll come with you, i have some business at the ministry too. have you seen his past exes?"

"uhh, not really?"

"well they're all models for one magazine or another."

"oh, okay. and that's important because...?" i asked her carefully.

"i just thought you should know."

i laughed, "i'm not model material, am i? i don't mind at all."

she looks taken aback. "i would say, with longer hair," she plucked a hair out of my poor mess of locks, "and a shorter upper body, with perhaps lip fillers, you'd look model-like."

her tone was analysing and not at all attacking.

"only three things??" i asked, shocked.

"you are rather... pretty already," she mused, "not model-like, but cute."

we had reached the ministry.

"thanks, see you later!" she waved and disappeared.

all that was left was a buzzing fly which soon flew away.

i immediately dialled in my auror code in the red telephone box and was sent into hermione granger's office.

"'mione! how good to see you!" i hugged her.

"hello y/n!"

in the ministry and the auror department, the head of the auror office was probably more important than the minister for magic. i didn't know why. she had brought me a cup of hot chocolate.

"thanks, 'mione, you didn't need to. what's the mission today?"

"two babies are being held hostage in a coded location by a person who calls themselves the light lord. dark lord, light lord, y'know?" she handed me a coded piece of parchment.

i thoughtfully pondered, "the light lord. who do you need?"

"i was hoping you go on this mission, then you could give me some news on this light lord person."

"that's doable. we'll need to bring in hepole and a ministry official to negotiate passports and such. and a strong auror team."

"right on it. i'll get wally becker and charlotte-ann becker. they're a force to be reckoned with on the borders."

"how much experience?"

"they're twins, been doing this for about fifty years now."

"perfect. and hepole?"

"on the way."

"thanks, minister," i winked at her, getting out my telephone and dialling the disguise unit.

"hello, poplinn speaking."

"pop, we need a few disguises. light lord."

"miss l/n! o-of course!"

"and pop?"

"y-yeah?"

"call me y/n."

i hung up, dialling harry's office.

"harry, call draco and be in my office in ten minutes. i don't care what business he's doing with scorpius, we've got babysitters here. light lord, perhaps a second of voldemort."

"of course."

i picked up the ringing phone that was in the corner of hermione's office.

"y/n, me and scorpy are having a zoo day, we're at the muggle zoo you suggested."

"sorry dray, but it's important."

"there's no one else?"

"there are others, but we need your expertise."

there was a pause, "i won't need to show my dark mark?"

"it's fading anyway. no."

"i'll be paid?"

"in hundreds."

"how old are the children?"

"2 and 4," hermione said.

the silence told me he was sold.

"i'll be there."

i picked up the big microphone and said, "auror unit 156 to the brief room. no need to bring anything. see you there!"

"good luck," hermione grimly said, "be safe, head."

"mhm and cup o' coffee tomorrow? if i survive, that is," i grinned.

"'course."

i smiled, "c'ya!"

she was shaking her head.

"oi, no disappointment, 'mione! i was the one who got the ministry out of paperwork!"

"burning paper doesn't count, y/n."

"it wasn't burning paper, hermione granger, it was arson."

"no, it was the saddest form of arson i've ever seen."

"hey! that's rude."

"just go on your mission already."

i laughed, "on it, minister. kalle?"

kalle looked at me, "yes?"

"tell miss minister to take a break and play a game or something, will you?"

she smiled, "okay."

"give my thanks to your mother too, loved the cookies!"

"alright, good luck, head!"

"thanks, bye!"

i apparated to the brief room, where everyone was strapped into special camouflage clothes.

i handed hepole the parchment and immediately began briefing the unit, harry and draco, on the mission.

"please be safe out there. if you're injured, apparate or travel back here, okay?"

i looked at hepole.

he cleared his throat, "they're in albania. the forest there."

"okay. harry and draco will provide attacking forces," the two nodded.

"i want lopex, quentin blake, quentin grill and hilly to break into any establishment," i say to the team, "and eron, hawks, melv, argonas to hold the offender hostage. johnathan, team healer as always. i'll take the children. hepole, you come and accompany us till the forest, then you have my permission to stay back, and beckers, stay invisible with the cloak, write a report for the minister when you come back, understand? have faith, team! i believe in you. we travel by apparition with the machine in three minutes. call your family, chat, have a snack, drink some water, and relax."

i picked up my telephone and dialled my parents.

"hi mum, dad, i'm going on a mission!"

"alright, be safe sweetie," my mum called.

"yeah, don't die kiddo," my dad added.

"right right, i love you, bye!"

the mission was successful. we rescued the children and sent the kidnapper to trial for azkaban. i escaped with a gash on my forearm, but quickly fixed it up with a spell. it ended late in the evening, so the team healer had gone home. the wound kept opening again, but i wasn't sure if it needed stitches.

putting everything away and making sure the aurors were okay, i headed back to the apartment i shared with fred.

i felt emotionally and physically drained, ready to enjoy a good shower and a good late dinner.

when i fiddled with the key to the door and opened it, my heart absolutely stopped.

pretoria aphrodite was kissing fred passionately. i felt my heart fall ten thousand flights of stairs in disappointment. of course. i was all a rebound who was pathetically in love with him.

when they stopped and saw me, pretoria smirked and fred stood up, astounded.

"uhh, continue? sorry," i apologised awkwardly.

"wait, y/n, it's not what it looks like-" he said.

"i don't mind, be safe," i smiled, too tired and too weak to do anything, closing the door and feeling tears well up in my eyes as i took my bag and myself somewhere. anywhere away from this all. my wound burned. i cursed under my breath as i made my way to st mungo's.

"y/n, you should have come here earlier!" yvonne, my friend, says, as she slowly injects a needle into me, "it's infected! and it needs stitches."

i laughed, "everything needs stitches. this is why i didn't become a healer, yvonne."

she shook her head in dismay.

"lol."

i watched the needle go in.

then she stitched the bloody mess of a wound up, cleaning it gently.

"now i can't stay, y/n," i pouted, "no, don't give me that face, i have other patients."

i nodded, "thanks yvonne."

"no problems. take care. you're too reckless."

"am not!"

she laughed. "that's funny."

after the trip to st mungo's which was pretty short, i wondered what to do. my mind kept floating to the scene i had just witnessed.

i was just the stupid, stupid, girl he used as a rebound. he didn't even use me as a real rebound, just someone who was simply infatuated with him to help him forget his unforgettable ex.

looking at a shop window, i caught a glimpse of myself. i hated being insecure but it happened.

i looked ugly. eyes too small, nose too big, lips not full enough. my thighs touched and i didn't have abs. i had a long gash running down my forearm, surrounded by other cuts. my hair was messy and disgusting. compared to the angel on earth pretoria was, i was nothing. small and plain was nothing when luxurious and beautiful was present.

and it hurt. my heart hurt. my head hurt.

i shook my head gently of my thoughts, chuckling bitterly.

fred weasley was completely and utterly out of my league.

whatevs, i thought. hurting was fine.

deciding to get over him once and for all, i bought some groceries and apparated to the doorstep of lee and alicia's glamorous cottage.

i knocked twice on the door. "hellooo!" i called out.

"baby, can you get that?" lee asked alicia.

alicia opened the door, smiling as she saw me.

"hey ali!"

"hi! come in!"

at first glance i could tell she knew something wrong.

"can i sleep here tonight? and take a shower? and eat some of your food please guys? and maybe steal a shirt i left here for safekeep? and maybe use your telephone? i'm really sorry for troubling you, so i got you guys snacks."

i was the second cousin by marriage of lee. it was good overall, but he was super naughty.

"snacks?"

"your favourites."

"then i guess you can," he said cheekily and i laughed.

"alicia, i don't know how or why you ended up with this child, but i'm glad you did," i told her and she laughed heartily.

"he's cute, isn't he?"

"no," i quickly stepped into the guest bedroom and took a long shower, letting a few tears slip but not enough so that it looked like it. i was subtle.

i bundled up in heavy clothing and wrapped my hair in a towel.

gingerly, i bandaged the wound.

by the snores in the other room, lee was asleep. i crept out quietly, going to cook something.

alicia was sitting down, with my favourite comfort meal prepared. i felt tears of appreciation well up in my eyes.

"thank you, ali, i love you."

"you damn well do."

we both giggled.

"what happened?" she asked me.

"nothing. i just wanted a change."

"from fred? liar. i'll ask again. what happened, y/n?"

"just a long mission, that's all."

"after long missions you usually watch movies with fred."

"couldn't i visit my best friend and my cuz?"

"you visit us on weekends. it's a friday."

"well i wanted to visit you!"

"bullshit."

"is it that hard to believe?"

"what the fuck did fred do to you?"

"nothin'?"

"c'mon y/n, you have to tell me. there's a reason why you didn't go to angie and george's tonight."

"i went here because they're super kissy. you guys have space and act normally. i appreciate that."

"you're awesome at lying."

"i'm not lying!"

"does this happen to involve pretoria aphrodite?"

i nodded, sighing, "she's so nice and pretty." i played with my food.

"i bumped into her. she's pretty, but not nice."

"oh?"

"she called me fiercely ugly. she forgot i model for witch weekly too."

"what did you say back?"

"i told her to fuck off."

i laughed, "she was very nice to me. but next time i see her imma kill her."

"of course she was nice to you, you're a lil angel! anyway, she's an animagus, didya know?"

"whoa how did you know?"

"caught her in a jar. she's a fly. who do you think told hermione to catch rita skeeter in the jar?"

i laughed, "rita skeeter is a beetle! gosh, she's annoying."

"what did fred and pretoria do?"

"nothing."

"please tell me?"

"they-" i swallowed, "they were kissing, and so i came here because i didn't wanna watch anymore."

"hang on, he told you he loved you a few days ago?"

i nodded.

"that doesn't seem right."

i shrugged, "pretoria's better than me. i don't blame him."

"his mother would kill him!"

i shrugged again, "i don't think he was legit when he said that."

"molly weasley, y/n!"

"look, he can explain it to you, i don't even wanna hear it. the first stage of mourning is denial, they say."

"doesn't mean it's good."

"denial is awesome. it's ignorance, but you choose to be stupid. i'm already so stupid!" i groaned, covering my face with my hands, "so so so so so so so stupid, foolish, dumb, and i don't want you to tell me i'm not because i know i am. pathetic."

i gobbled down the rest of the meal, "ths 's delicous," i said, swallowing, "g'night!"

"don't be afraid to let it all out."

"yeah."

i shut the door softly, before brushing my teeth and collapsing exhaustedly on the bed, nodding off quickly.

the next day, i woke at 4am, and put on new clothes, apparating to the phone box and filling out paperwork for the missions yesterday.

i joined hermione quickly, handing her a cappucino and sipping my mocha.

"court sitting this early?" she asked me.

i nodded, "mistake of sirius black, now they do all court sittings within 24 hours of arrest."

"that's smart."

"yeah. it's good. he's obviously guilty right? just a dust of veritaserum to bring it all out?"

"i reckon he'll just confess."

"criminals don't go down easily."

"you guys did a spotting job. the children were unharmed."

"are they here today?"

"they're in st mungo's. being monitored."

"parents?"

"dead."

"oh gosh, those poor children. what's going to happen to them?"

"someone's adopting them, wally becker and his wife."

"that's awesome."

the court hushed as we entered the room. hermione and i shared amused glances and began the sitting.

he was found to be guilty and was chucked in azkaban.

"what an idiot, sending a message like that."

"yup," i chuckled, "what with hepole in our ministry, they never escape."

we laughed.

"how's everything with ron?" i asked her.

"i don't know if he's still into me?"

i almost laugh at her statement, "bro. of course he is."

"i never see him."

"then see him more!"

"how? i'm so busy!"

"busy enough for ron?" we both took sandwiches from the canteen lady with courteous smiles and words.

we sat down at the cafeteria.

"i guess not, but he's busy!"

"busy enough for you?"

"i guess not."

"'xactly."

"but he might not wanna go on a date."

"why? the boy's obsessed with you, 'mione!"

the aurors and ministry workers looked at us in fear as i rose up. i chuckled.

i immediately skipped over to the telephone, putting in the WWW's number.

"y/n! what on earth are you doing?" hermione said in a panicked tone.

"nothing to be worried 'bout."

"hello?" it was george. i thanked the heavens for that.

"yolo george, give the phone to your lil bro please."

"'kay."

hermione was gaping at me. i smirked at her.

"y/n?"

"hey ron, i want you to meet me in rosemary park at 5pm today."

"o-okay."

"could you also bring hermione's favourite snacks and wear an extra jumper?"

"what? why?"

"i'm curious, that's all," i said, "see you there!"

"is that y/n?" i heard fred's voice.

"nup, it isn't," i replied.

and with that, i hung up.

"hey 'mione?"

she was glaring at me, "what."

"meet me at rosemary park at 5pm?" i batted my eyelashes at her, before bursting out in laughter.

she laughed, "i love you."

"pfft, love ya too. you really are too careful. like he would reject you."

"what do you think i should wear?"

"let's go off work early today, at 3," i suggested, "we're both on top of our work anyway."

"okay! you wanna go now?"

"it's 11?"

"yeah!"

"alrighty! kalle!"

kalle turned to us, "yes?"

"hi! me and minister are going out to talk about the mission."

"alright, bye."

we apparate to hogsmeade.

"what theme do you wanna go for?"

"hmm," she thought for a second, "floral!"

"alrighty!" i fumbled for my cell phone and dialled the WWW's again.

"hello?" it was fred this time.

"heyo freddie," i said to him like nothing had ever happened, "tell ron to dress up at 5 pm in something cute but not too out there, preferably in florals or somethin', and he better bring me hermione's favourite flowers."

"wha? if he's going with you then- ohhhh."

"thanks, bye."

"wait!"

"mhm?"

"can we talk?"

"erm- about what exactly?"

"everything."

i sighed, "later, okay? i'm out with hermione and you've got work."

"okay. have a good time, lovely."

"you too."

i was utterly confused. here he was one day kissing pretoria, and now he was calling me lovely?

what the hell was going on?

"let's go, mione!"

we went and bought her a pretty pink dress with white lilies adorning it. it was cute and definitely casual, sort of like a sundress.

"what if he doesn't come?" hermione chewed on her lip.

"hermione jean granger, we both know that ron is absolutely definitely a thousand times head over heels in love with you. he wouldn't ditch you for the world! and look at you! anyone can see he's lucky to have you! you both are star-crossed. when has he ever ever ditched you?"

"with lav brown."

"lavender, she's, she's dead, hermione," i said carefully, "fenrir greyback bit her to death. it was a tragic, heroic, death. she was listed in the extended casualties sent to my office a few months after the battle. i think she's watching down on us from wherever she is up there."

"she's dead?"

"yeah," i replied sadly, "life is so short."

"yeah."

"what i'm tryna say, is that that might've happened, but it won't happen again now that he knows you love him and he loves you. understand?"

"yeah."

"and love him well, for the sake of lavender brown."

"for the sake of lavender brown," she said, smiling.

"yup, now, light lord. his name is actually pont knight."

"pont knight?"

"former assistant of me."

"pont knight?"

"yeah, i know right."

"how did he go again?"

"oh, i fired him," i laughed.

"why?"

"smart guy but terribly lazy and he kept asking for promotions! like please do something if you want money."

"interesting."

"he moved to eastern europe to chase after the trendiness of the islands. i think it was just an excuse. he's changed. he used to be clean-shaven and have the blondest hair."

"do you think he did anything else?"

"we did put him on veritaserum, right?"

"yeah, but it's illegal to put someone on it for more than 10 minutes now in court sittings."

"we could go visit him in azkaban later? i'll take gregir."

"yeah, maybe tomorrow or the day after?"

i nodded, "'course. today is a rest day for the aurors right?"

she nodded, "yeah, half of the agency is at home or working out in the gym."

"good. sometimes this work is so tolling, 'mione."

"yeah, i heard from st mungo's you got hurt?" her eyes were concerned.

i rolled up my sleeve, "that's it."

"that's it? what do you mean, that's terrible! you need to take better care of yourself."

"well sometimes it's hard to. it was worth it."

we continued chatting until it was 4:30.

"oop!" she checked her watch, "i have to go!"

"good luck! tell me how it goes, minister! i'll head back to check if anyone's called for you or me and dust it all up."

"thanks. i owe you."

"nah. i owe my job to you. if minister for magic didn't exist, i wouldn't either. i love you 'mione, be safe!"

"love you too!"

i apparated to the phone box and typed my letters in.

with a whoosh, i immediately spotted two letters and a beeping phone. i answered the phone, solving the problem of the woman on the other end of the line and scribbled a reply to both of the letters.

i finished the paperwork and sent it off, then visited my office. it was piling with letters. i answered all of them, redirecting some of them to different departments, before calling everyone back.

i spotted some of the aurors from yesterday's mission sitting in the cafeteria and talking.

i sat down next to them, "how are you guys doing? any injuries?"

they shook their heads, "we've been spending time in the healer's office and just exercising lightly by the orders of johnny," argonas explained and i nodded.

"take it lightly, and go home if you want to. seeing family always helps the process, hopefully not too many nightmares?"

they laughed, "nightmares all the time, miss," hawk said lightly, "get used to it in this job."

i frowned, "have you tried speaking to doctor yvonne? she might have ways to solve nightmares."

"ahh, miss, sleeping draughts can only do so much," hawk replied cordially.

i laughed, "alright, hawkeye, but just make sure you're not getting traumatised okay? what about you, lopex, quentins?"

they shrugged.

"it's okay? the door was very hard to bust into," lopex said quietly, "we had to try several bombarding charms."

"now, lop, it was easy work!" draco said, sitting down, "hello, head auror, hello unit."

it brought on a cacophony of greetings.

"how are you doing, dray?" harry sat down next to him, "hi everyone!"

we all replied with more greetings and a steady conversation started and flowed for a couple of hours.

i felt my cell phone go off and i excused myself, noting it was 9pm already.

i apparated to the apartment doorstep, knocking on the door just in case anything was happening. i checked the caller id, it was hermione.

fred opened the door, hair messy, still good looking. i smiled at him, patting his shoulder as i ran to the ringing telephone and picked it up.

"y/n!" i could just hear the beam in hermione's voice.

"'mione! how did it go?"

"absolutely wonderful, head auror, ahhh, he's so cute!"

"what happened?" i asked, smiling already.

"well it was really cold when i saw the picnic blanket, which was matching my dress for some weird reason, and ron was there in the cutest button up and he looked so handsoME and he gave me a flower, he's always handsome but i just can't! ahhhh!" she squealed and i clapped my hands in excitement.

"and then i was shivering and he gave me hiS JUMPER and it smelled like him and oh my gosh i think i might just be in love, y/n!"

i giggled, "my cooling charm did work!"

"whaT y/n????"

cackling, i said, "continue, i wanna hear more this is so adorable!!!"

i ignored the dirty glance fred gave me, quietening my voice.

"and then we had food and he said he had cooked it himself and was being such a dear and i told him that i loved him over and over again!!!"

i squealed silently again.

"and, and, gosh my english has gone out of the window!"

"english is nothing compared to the language of love!!" i giggled.

"we watched the sunset whilst cuddling, and i fell asleep and then when i woke up i was in his bed and he was looking at me intently and i just, i'm the luckiest girl alive!"

"you are but you deserve it! that's so sweet! i'm happy for you goshhh, you are the cutest couple. you're both such darlings!"

"and then we watched a muggle movie and he got scared of the spiders and it was so adorable ahhhhHHHH!!!"

"that's the cutesttttt," i gushed.

another dirty look from fred. i gave him a frown back.

"and then he walked me home and it started raining and we kissed in the rain and another check off of my bucketlist and oh my gosh he's so perfect."

"oh gosh that's beautiful," i was smiling uncontrollably.

"anyway," her tone changed into one of mischief, "wanna meet up tomorrow to talk about it?"

"sure thing! when and where? i'll be there!"

"erm, lemme chec- think," i heard the suspicious rustling of papers.

"you're sus. let's just talk about it over the phone. i don't want anything weird."

"how about 10 am in the morning at the field of fireflies?"

"that's a highly romantic place, miss minister. isn't it for couples or something?"

"no? you must be talking about fiona farm."

oh. "yeah, probs, well okay, it better have good coffee. i'm dying of boredom too, does it have a playground??" i asked, hopefully crossing my fingers.

"nope."

"awww, shucks, i don't think i'll go then. you wanna come over though?"

"no please come! there's a surprise!"

i was sold, "lovely. i'll be there at 9:30!"

"no, no, don't do that."

"what the hell, hermione, you're being so suspicious!"

"i'm not, okay? just come on time, you won't regret it."

"if there's any funny business i'm not committing arson ever again."

"oh crap."

i sighed.

"just come anyway!!! good night cheerio!!!"

"what the-"

the line ended.

i frowned, noticing the glare fred gave me yet again.

"is everything okay??" i asked him.

"no," he said rudely.

"well, do you need any help?"

"no."

"how was your day?"

"fine."

i sighed, "okay."

"you called ron cute."

i laughed lightly, "that's it?? and so what's kissing a girl huh, nothing? i called him cute because he treats 'mione like a goddess, because she is a goddess, for goodness sake. and he is cute, in a completely objective way," i added absentmindedly, "all you weasleys are."

he frowned.

"she kissed me!"

"oh i don't mind, i couldn't. my two braincells can't handle it. you kiss whoever you wanna, okay? live, laugh, love, and all that." i smiled.

he was silent.

"and we can talk after i meet up with hermione, okay?"

"okay."

"we don't needa if you don't wanna, of course. g'night."

"have a nice sleep."

the next morning, i got up and went to the field of fireflies or whatever.

it was a beautiful place. it was a full on field. meadows stretched across the near english countryside. the sky was clear and light, and the world around me was stunning.

winds blew from all directions, and i soon found myself accio!ing a jumper.

"hermioneeee???" i called, "you're leaving me hanging."

had hermione stood me up? i chuckled at the very thought, soon rolling in the field of flowers as i laughed.

"hermione you devil you stood me up! you left your poor little work wife hanging!" i shouted dramatically.

i suddenly spotted a little house? by the side of the meadow.

i ran towards it.

"whoa."

it was absolutely magnificent. beige little bricks were stacked on top of each other, grey bricks dotted in. the shillings were dark green, and plants hung out everywhere in the cracks of the house.

large windows which reflected the blue light in the sky spanned across the whole house, and a single wooden door stood ajar.

i just wish i had brought a camera. i sat on the grass, playing with the hem of my jumper sadly. even hermione didn't have time for me. i wondered what a sad person i must seem like.

"contemplating life there?" i heard a far off voice. i swung my head around, seeing fred standing and grinning.

yeah well duh i was, no thanks to you, i thought.

i immediately got up.

"we can talk here, right?" fred asked, as he brought me into the house.

"wow," inside, it was cluttered and messy, with plants sprouting everywhere and bookcases and things everywhere. i loved it.

"you like it?" he asked.

"love it."

"good, because i bought it," he laughed at my flabbergasted expression, "i'm rich, darlin'. let's sit, i cooked lunch."

"was this your plan? to have hermione stand me up?" i asked.

"love, i wouldn't call this a plan. simply just a boy trying to explain himself."

"look i don't need an explanation. i told you, you can love whoever you wanna, i don't mind, i don't care, i support."

"but i'm gonna have to explain because i wanna kiss you."

"then go ahead," i sighed, "if you're lying i will stab you."

"jeesh okay."

i looked at him.

"oh yeah, i forgot the food, here," he said casually, handing me a plate filled with yummy looking delicacies. i was willing to put up with his rubbish story telling for the food, i guess.

"alright, i'm all ears."

"okay. so she talked with you right?"

i nodded.

"did she take a piece of hair from you?”

i nodded again.

"so you came home just right about when the night lights flicker on in london. or so i thought it was you. it was actually, aphrodite, yeah? in polyjuice potion. and she knocked on the door, which i thought was strange. i opened it and she immediately kissed me, as you. and it was weird but it was you and i would give the world to kiss you like that," he said bluntly and i could feel my face heating up, "and then it went like that for a few seconds and she turned into pretoria, and by then the woman had her claws on me. then the door opened and i knew i had made a mistake and then you left and apologised so sweetly. i'm so so sorry, my love, please, i never meant to hurt you, i never meant to do anything. i broke up with her last year. i haven't wanted to be with her since. i want to be with you."

i looked at him. i knew he was genuine.

"okay. i'm sorry too, for not trusting you. i guess i was just really unsure of our relationship. it's still kinda blurry."

"what do you wanna be?"

"could we be official, please?"

he grinned, "of course."

then smiling sheepishly, he added, "can i kiss you now?"

"only if i'm the only girl you kiss from now on," i teased, smiling.

he blushed, placing my hands over his heart. it was beating very very fast.

"feel that, beautiful?"

i nodded.

"only you."

he gave me a cheesy grin and laughed at my blushing face, before tilting my head upwards and going in for a kiss but kissing my cheek.

"that's not fair!"

and that's how his head ended up falling into my lap, as i ran my fingers through his ginger strands.

he had fallen asleep just as the sunset began.

it was breathtaking. hues of orange and red danced across the sky.

"i can think of something a lot more beautiful than that," fred said, smiling.

"oh?"

"yeah. yeah."

"i don't believe you."

"that's because you can't see yourself right now."

[laximpulsion]

Director's Cut Commentary, Ch. 2-6 oh, she's the one i should hate

Since I'm just about at the end of what I had originally planned for this story i thought it might be an appropriate place to pause for some reflection... more under the cut because it got kinda long and i dont want to inflict blog-length posts on your dash without warning lol

So I thought this was going to be just like, some la-di-da high school romcom AU that would never get very feelings-y or anything, and i CERTAINLY did not expect to have actual character development lol. but it got kinda real??? I mean obviously compared to other things i've written it's still pretty la-di-da and im not planning on having any big-time angst, but i've ended up really invested in it and enjoying a lot of the turns it's taken for both fatin and leah.

i think i've said this before but i'll say it any chance i can get... i have loved getting to show this from both of their POVs; i think it's worked out well and it's been such a great, rewarding challenge to weave the story together through both of their eyes. i love that i get to draw parallels between how and what the two of them think about each other, and i like getting to dig into what moments cause shifts for each of them; what do each of them fixate on; how do they interpret the same event differently... it's been really fun.

and just in general i cant overemphasize how much fun this one has been to write. i almost always enjoy writing, whether it's angst or fluff, whether it goes slow or quickly, even when im feeling uninspired/stuck, it's satisfying to just get some words down. but theres a difference between enjoying it/finding it satisfying, and like, literally being entertained by it. and this one i am just...having FUN! and it's awesome. i think it also helps that my frame of mind going into it was that i wasn't going to take it super seriously (vs. my s3 fic which i am arguably taking TOO seriously and need to loosen the fuck up about) so it's easier for me to roll with the punches when things get off track.

speaking of which... things got off track! little miss leah rilke refused to cooperate with me, which is such a bizarre sensation because i know i'm the one writing her, but it really feels like a couple times this fic she has literally just rebelled against me. the first was when fatin presented the revenge scheme; i intended for leah to hop right on board but instead she got worried about it being traced back to her. which i think makes sense because the way she's been this fic is very concerned about what people are saying/thinking about her. the other time just recently happened while i was writing the next chapter and now it's leaving me kind of at a crossroads wondering if I want to stick to my original plan or go with what Leah seems to want me to do lol.

and obviously the first time leah went rogue I adjusted the story so that they don't do a really big revenge scheme, and i dont regret that, i think it makes sense and i have one more revenge plan related plot beat that i think will wrap it up nicely. so honestly im thinking I'll just adjust things again...because it kind of feels like this is what's supposed to happen anyway, like, i'm letting the characters call the shots instead of trying to shoehorn them into my own plotlines. maybe? something like that? ok, this is getting a little pretentious lol sorry...

what else...mmm...i think thats actually all for now! until next time...

EDIT: oh yea actually i have more. i had to "kill my darlings" a couple times for this fic, i.e. get rid of a scene/plotline that i really liked but that i just couldnt justify keeping after i decided to go in a different direction. i'd never had to do that before and it's harder than i expected it to be! the first one was that i changed the party scene, which was not a huge tragedy bc i think it was the right choice but there are a few lines/ideas from that that i was sad to lose. i'm making myself feel better about it by tacking it on as a bonus chapter at the end so at least i didn't write it for nothing lol. the other one i'm even more bummed to let go of because it is so dumb and messy and i love idiots and mess, but if i go in the direction that leah seems to want me to, i don't think it'll make sense to keep it. i am optimistic that i'll be able to work the general idea into another fic, but it won't be quite the same. so maybe i'll offer that one up as another bonus chapter.

[sadviper]

Oh my word! Sadviper is about Dohwan?! (Hi hello). I adore mad dog so much. I haven't watched Save Me because I think it's too heavy and my mood just won't allow me to, and I find My Country so unrewatchable because of sheer amount of stuff Seonho goes through and tkem is tkem and there just wasn't enough. But Mad Dog is so satisfactory because because, what can I say, it just is. There are moments to suspend disbelief but it's really good. And I adore it. Sorry for babbling in your ask box like this.

HIIII YES SADVIPER IS OUR DEAREST MAD DOG HWANITO!!! Imagine, me, several years younger and clueless to this man's existence, enduring 2 episodes of Yoo Ji-tae flashbacking over his son's sneakers, only for the odd, overly-smiley-yet-persistent nerdy guy from the architect firm to slither into the end of ep2 and unrepentently reveal that he's the BROTHER OF THE EVIL PILOT and he owns the building! And he has blackmail on them all!!! HA HA! Unfazed when getting strangled! No shame whatsoever, he will manipulate you all to get what he wants! His smile is his shield! BUT!! We gradually see how devastated, desperate and lonely he truly is. (Eventually I would discover that sadviper(tm) is hwanito's best agitated state of being, may he always pick angsty bad boy roles <3)

Mad Dog has all those nuanced expressions of (suppressed or outright) anguish we love so much. But it's also got the found family stuff to balance whatever grief Min-joon gets into. His wiggly and twisty deceptions become a source of good in uncovering the truth; the team softens up to him and start having more banter in their clashes; they go into protective overdrive when it turns out Min-joon is awfully helpless at defending himself; Min-joon then imprints on overbearing Mad Dog Dad and for a few scenes we get both whump AND the cutest house-fluff caring that really curls your toes.

That's what is sadly lacking in My Country and Save Me. =/ Those are all pain with very little comfort. Though if you ever do get the fortitude one day, I hope you can experience Save Me's Dong-cheol, who is the most admirable, heroic, brave, caring, and intelligent young man I've ever seen and I think I screeched in woe a couple times over his fictional existence because I would've married him right there despite the booze and cigarettes he seems prone to. (The show does have a happy ending if that helps) It's rather fascinating to see how both roles required the same type of cosplay, but Dong-cheol had none of the slick "viper" aspect that Min-joon had once the cosplay ended. A testament, really, to WDH's character choices.

I'm sloooowly working on a 2nd Mad Dog interview translation (though it's not much different than my previous one; all the magazines pretty much ask the same questions and get the same answers). But other than every show you've already mentioned, I'm afraid I can't recommend anything else in WDH's filmography that would compare...

Thankfully, we have his upcoming Netflix mini series to look forward to. It will probably look amazing and be really dark, lol. Yet how can we resist WDH as a boxer bodyguard loanshark thug fighting on the better side of what I presume will be a morally gray underworld? He has the face of someone who straddles the line between good and evil. :3

Thank you for chatting about Mad Dog here!!!

[keeper0fthestars]

Fear and Trust

francisco (frankie) morales x fem reader

2K words

warnings: two idiots in love, language, fluff, so much fluff, cheesy intimate moments, Frankie is husband material

summary: There is only one thing in this world that scares you and that thing is heights

a/n:  based on this trope 

I am so blown away by everyone who reblogs my erratic little scribblings and sends me comments, you fuel me more than you will ever know.  And as always i would love to know what you think. 

~~

In search of your shoes, you walk down the hall in your bare feet, hands occupied with the zipper of your sundress. Rounding the corner into the living room, you find Frankie on the couch tidying the mess books and papers on the coffee table. Focused the space in front of him, he pulls a pair of sandals from under the coffee table, letting them dangle on two fingers. 

“Looking for thes-,” 

And that’s when he sees you. 

He doesn't drop the shoes in your outstretched hand as you expect; instead, they fall onto the couch and he takes your hand, pulling you up to him, knees knocking with his. His gaze is glued to your dress, the way it matches your eyes and fits you in all the right places and flares just above your knees, leaving just enough bare skin for his eyes to latch onto. He doesn't even need to say anything, your skin is already tingling under the weight of his eyes and you forget why you walked into the living room in the first place. His eyes finally drag back up to yours, his throat bobs and- 

“Tell me something, babe,”  leaning back on the couch soaking up the sight of you. "How the fuck am I supposed to wanna go anywhere with you dressed like this?"

You let him tug you down on top of him, content knowing that the effect you have on him is equally disarming, “Hey, this was your idea, remember?” 

Sinking into the worn leather of the couch, you brace yourself on his shoulders, knees hugging him on either side, your dress bunching over your thighs.  His hands settle on your hips, guiding you down, blowing a hot breath out of his mouth when he catches a glimpse of the dark lace between your legs. He looks weak and starved all at once, running his hands up your thighs, curving around your ass, giving you an appreciative squeeze.

“Mmhm...” he hums, hooking an index finger under the one strap, sliding it off your shoulder, he sits up, his mouth focused on the skin of your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your bare skin. “I've got more ideas and all of them include this dress on the floor right now.”

“How am I supposed to resist that?” Sinking your fingers into his hair, you guide his mouth to yours.

His hands slide underneath your dress. “I hope you can’t.”

///

It’s taken all damn day and three caramel apples but he’s finally got you standing in line with him, sharing popcorn and more junk food, and every few minutes when the line advances, his hand finds the small of your back, tracing soothing circles, and you think maybe it’s the way he’s just licked cotton candy off your thumb, or maybe it’s the fact that he could not seem to keep his hands off you all day, but whatever he’s doing is working because the nervous flutter in your chest isn’t so bad anymore. 

From across the pier, it didn’t seem that big, but now that you’re standing directly under it, this is by far the worst ride in the entire park and you blame the sugar high for letting him talk you into this. He senses your jitters again and he tucks you into his side, pressing his lips softly to your temple. Your free hand slides into his back pocket and the brim of his ball cap skims the top of your head, he is warm and solid and more of your tension bleeds away. The next empty bucket that jerks to a halt is for you.

“You owe me for this, Morales.”

“I promise it’ll be worth it.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

He doesn’t answer; he just laces his fingers with yours, that dimple in his cheek melting the rest of your resolve and fuck, it’s kinda hard to deny him anything when he smiles like that. He leads the way up the ramp and into the open metal carriage with the narrow bench big enough for two. 

Everything from your elbows down is hidden from sight inside the swaying bucket.  The sturdy bar positioned across your lap looks like it was painted blue at some point but had long since been overtaken by rust. You resist the urge to look up.

The ride operator steps up, reaches inside and jostles the restraint over your lap, testing its latch before shutting the half-door with a clink. Without warning your bucket is yanked backwards a few feet and your stomach lurches, knuckles turning white on the rusted bar. The bucket then jolts to a stop to let the next people in line a chance to get on. 

Yep. Worst idea ever. 

“Oh god,” Taking a shuddering breath, you would give anything to be as relaxed as he looks, knees splaying, back slouched, “I cannot believe you talked me into this.”

He pulls you into the circle of his arms, his calming, “Breathe, baby, I’ve got you,” is the only thing that makes the next few jolts bearable as you climb higher. He reaches across your lap and gently tugs your knees together pulling them snug to his side. 

Turning your face into his shoulder, you wait for him to tell you this is nonsense and that you have nothing to worry about. 

But he won’t because that’s the thing about fears. They’re irrational like that. 

“Hey,” he coaxes into your ear, “you’re okay, I’m not letting go of you.” 

Forcing yourself to breathe, you relax your grip on the bar in front of you just as another jerk propels you backwards again, then another, and another and now you’re halfway up the back of the massive wheel. Squeezing your eyes shut, your heart is beating inside your throat now and you’re fairly certain your stomach is lying somewhere on the ground below. Frankie has to pry your hand off his thigh.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Watching me lose my shit over the damn Ferris Wheel.” 

“But you’re doing it,” with his nose, he nudges your face up, pressing his lips to yours, “even though you’re afraid.”

The truth was, you wouldn’t be doing it if he weren’t with you. And he knew that. 

When he’d learned there was only one thing you were scared of, he found it hard to believe at first and also adorable as hell, but he never bugged you about it; he knew what it was like to be teased about something you can’t control. The irony is not lost on you that your boyfriend happens to be a pilot. The only thing he'd said at the time was, only idiots are not afraid of anything.

Jerking to a halt again, you’re above the trees and now it’s the unobstructed view that captures your attention and steals your breath. It's spectacular, all glowing neon and twinkling lights. The sun is sinking, turning the sky into breathtaking orange and pink, matching the sprawling scene below.

“Oh," you breathe, "this is gorgeous.” 

"Yeah," he lets go of your shoulder to drag his thumb down your neck, placing his mouth just below your ear. “It is.”

Your shiver is accompanied by a familiar surge of warmth under the softness of his voice because he's not talking about the sunset.

Deep down, Frankie knows there would never come a day that his heart would not trip over itself and spill butterflies into his stomach whenever you’d enter a room. 

There used to be a time he'd thought he’d never be enough, but you’d put those deep-seated fears of his to rest a long time ago. You’d been the unshakable and constant stability in his life that left no room for any doubt. Not that he’d had any qualms or cold feet about spending the rest of his life with you; it was quite the opposite.  The purple velvet box at the bottom of his pocket induced enough butterflies to fill his truck bed if that was any indication of how strongly he felt about you. The rush he'd felt in his insides during his very first simulation at the academy was nothing compared to the glow he felt today and he had to keep hiding his smile against your shoulder to try and rein it in. 

The ride starts to glide smoothly and okay; all things considered, this wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought. Dusk is beginning to settle and Frankie’s arm rests warm and heavy across your shoulders. The wind on your face feels fantastic and you’re not quite sure when your nervous energy changes into something else but every time you feel the downward pull on your body, your face splits into a grin and if you weren't so damn happy, you'd be rolling your eyes right now wondering when your life turned into a fucking rom-com. 

When he faces you, the sun leaves dazzling flecks of deep gold in his eyes, making them shine like bronze. His crooked smile pulls softly at the corner of his eye, a smile that tells you he knows exactly what you’re thinking, a smile that makes your heart lose its balance. It’s the same look he’d had when you came out of the bedroom this afternoon; the same look you’d pretended not to notice all day, wandering the pier together. Your heart is suddenly fluttering again and it has nothing to do with being three hundred feet off the ground.

“Okay Frankie, what’s going on? This all part of some plan of yours?” 

He takes off his ball cap and then replaces it in the same spot on his head, clearing his throat. “What plan.” 

“Getting me on the biggest ride here, winning me over with… with enough sugar to last a year and all your sweet talk and... listen, it's gonna take a lot more than a few well-placed kisses to get me into your co-pilot seat.” 

You feel his chest beginning to shake with laughter, “Baby, my chopper is much safer than this fuckin rust bucket. The-,” 

Your mouth gapes.  “Oh fuck you.

Just when you were starting to relax.

He blocks your loose fist with a gentle grip before it hits his shoulder, uses it to pull you in, your affronted gasp cut off when his lazy grin bumps with your open mouth. You had a dozen comebacks for the way he just teased you, but they all melt before they have a chance to materialize. His eyes glitter with amusement and something else but he doesn't give you a chance to examine it. 

“Lemme kiss you properly and then you can think about fucking me, ok.”

It's a little hard to be irritated; it’s a little hard to think straight at all when his fingers start dancing up the inside of your knee. The rush in your stomach now has nothing to do with the way gravity is forcing you down into the seat. Damn this guy and his ability to silence every single thought in your head.  

The ride is nearing the end, and you find yourself disappointed remembering how nervous you’d felt about it at the start. It slows and eases to a stop, suspending the two of you at the highest point in the rotation. 

The sun half gone now, the clouds are washed with purple and dark orange, the leaves in the treetops kissing each other in the breeze. It’s peaceful up here, hanging above the world and you understand why Frankie loves it. And your heart just might shatter right now because for the first time you realize that’s why he wanted to share it with you. 

Your throat clogs up and you don't trust yourself to speak but you don't need to because he shifts slightly, angling you so he can slip his arms around your waist from behind, tucking his chin into your shoulder. He's the one steady hand in your life. You fall asleep at night and wake up knowing that he's never going to be anywhere but beside you.

“You're right,” you manage, "this was worth it."

The edges of his heart twinge at the lightness in your voice, he soaks it up, knowing he’s the one responsible for it, knowing all the things he wants to promise you, knowing he’s the one you lean on, the one you call in the middle of the day just to say hi, the one you trust, the one you’ve said countless times you want to grow old with so why the fuck was he so nervous. 

That’s the thing about fears. They’re irrational like that.

A fragment of a forgotten conversation echoes in his head, something he’d told you a long time ago: Only complete idiots are not afraid of anything. 

He ignores the trembling in his fingers and reaches into his pocket.

~~

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[hood-ex]

Can you give any pointers for fanfiction writing? It's something I've considered trying, but I've never done creative writing and it's a bit intimidating. I'm mostly interested in writing Nightwing, and maybe having other characters (Batfam and Titans) but still always having Dick as the center.

Welcome to Fanfiction 101! I’m here to keep you from making the same mistakes I’ve made in the past. 

Pre-Writing Process

There are some people who enjoy outlining the shit out of their story, and then there are people like me who just kinda make the story up as they go. Whatever you decide to do, try to at least have an ending planned out. That way while you’re writing, you can start to craft the pieces you need to get to the ending you have imagined. You can even work backward and plan your story out from end to beginning. 

For example, let’s say I want my ending to be Dick and Damian hugging in a hospital. Okay, what pieces do I need to get to that point? Well, if they’re in a hospital then one of them needs to be hurt. Who do I want to hurt? Let’s go with Dick because I want this story to show how much Damian cares about Dick.

Great. Now how does Damian find out that Dick is hurt/how does he save Dick? Let’s say Damian is in the cave when the batcomputer gets an alert from Nightwing’s suit. The alert shows that Dick’s vitals have gone haywire. Damian panics, tracks down Dick’s location, and then both him and Alfie take the flying batmobile to save Dick. They find Dick and take him to the hospital. 

Cool but how does Dick get hurt in the first place? Hmm, well, Dick usually always rides a motorcycle, right? So let’s say Dick gets into a motorcycle accident. How does he crash his bike? Maybe it’s because of the weather or because a baddie crashes into him. I don’t want to write a huge action scene so let’s say Dick accidentally drives over black ice, spins out, and crashes in a ditch. 

And there you have it. A whole story right there from end to beginning. You can plan things out in a more detailed way before you jump in and write if you want. A basic outline like that ^ is usually enough for me to go off of. The details just come to me while I’m in the process of writing. Try and see what works best for you. 

One-Shots vs. Multi-Chapter Stories 

If you haven’t done a lot of creative writing, I would suggest you start off by practicing with one-shots. Now, one-shots can be shorter content, but on the flip side, there’s also one-shots that are like 50k words. Totally depends on what the author is willing to put into it in terms of plot, description, character development, etc. 

I personally have a hard time finding the motivation to finish multi-chapter stories, which is why I usually stick to one-shots. Short one-shots can be easier because they don’t have to be super fleshed out. The action is quick, the dialogue is impactful, and the scene is memorable. 

You can also just jump into the action when it comes to one-shots. You don’t have to do as much build-up. For example, I could jump right into a scene of Dick having trouble breathing like this: 

Dick’s having a hard time making sense of things. Vaguely, he can hear Bruce shouting for Alfred. He can feel hands on him. His vision is going in and out. Then, suddenly, there’s silence. Dick wakes up, confused. Tim is sitting at his bedside, holding his hand. Bruce is close by, and when he realizes Dick is awake, he immediately goes over to him. Bruce explains that Dick had a bad reaction to a drug he was injected with. Bruce cards his hand through Dick’s hair to comfort him, and Dick reflects on when Bruce used to do the same thing when Dick was a kid. 

End scene. 

Okay, so, obviously a real story would have way more description than that, but you get what I’m saying, yeah? That whole scene could be the entire story and it would be enough. But if you have the motivation to do way more than that with a ton of character development and what not, you totally could prolong that one-shot into 50k words. Or just break everything up into a multi-chapter fic. 

The problem with writing one chapter at a time for a multi-chapter fic is that it’s hard to keep the motivation to keep writing each chapter. You write one chapter and then put the story to the side for a few days, and suddenly, you keep making excuses about why you don’t want to write the next chapter. To be fair, this can also happen with a basic one-shot, but yeah, tis the life of a writer. Don’t be discouraged if it happens to you. Trust me, it will at some point. 

Character POV

Listen, I love writing in first person. In other fandoms, I used to write a lot of my stories in first person POV. I’ve got some bad news for you, though. Generally, people don’t like to read fanfics that are in first person POV. They just don’t. Nowadays, even I tend to skip over stories that are written in first person POV. 

Third person POV is going to be your best friend. Get comfortable writing it. 

Admittedly, sometimes it’s easier for me to grasp a character’s voice if I first write the story in first person POV. I then go back and change all the “I’s” and “me’s” to he, his, her, hers, etc. That’s just a little trick I do sometimes if I’m having a hard time getting a story started. 

Characterization

If you’re not 100% sure how to write a specific character, try and figure out a few facts about them. Like if you want to write Dick then think about some key qualities of his. Sprinkle those traits throughout the story to make the character sound more authentic. 

For example, I know Dick doesn’t like cucumber sandwiches. Sometimes I’ll have him or other characters mention this in the story. I also know Dick can struggle with perfectionism. I can make that something he has to struggle with in the story. It doesn’t have to be what the whole story revolves around, but if I just throw in some things here and there about how Dick is mad at himself for failing about something then that makes him feel more in character. 

Character Interactions

At first, writing multiple characters interacting at once can be really difficult. It can fuck up the pacing of your story, it can be hard to insert each character enough to make sure they aren’t ignored, and it can be hard to make sure each character is getting a chance to speak. 

If you find yourself struggling with this, try and just stick to two characters at first. Once you’re comfortable writing a conversation between them, try adding in another character. And another. And another. 

The more you practice, the more you’ll be able to write multiple characters interacting in a scene in a way that feels more natural and realistic. 

Genres and Tropes

When it comes to figuring out what you want to write about, you need to know what kind of content your audience wants. For example, fantasy niches (fairies, vampires, etc.) can be harder to “sell” in this particular fandom. There are people like myself who enjoy those niches, but just know that they may not be the most popular niches within this specific fandom. 

What are some niches that the majority of fandoms do like? Hurt/comfort, sick fics, whump, fluff. Those kinds of fics are always in demand. People love it when their favs get hurt. People love it when other characters worry about their favs. People love it when their favs get hurt while protecting others. People love it when their favs are getting along and being affectionate with one another. 

Go on AO3 and sort the fics in this fandom by “most comments” or “most kudos.” Now look at the most popular fics that come up and look at the tags they use. See what kinds of things those authors are writing about. Read their summaries and try to get an idea of what the stories are about. 

Once you get an idea of which kind of genres and tropes are most popular, try and write a story that includes those genres/tropes. People will be more likely to read stories that have tropes they usually like to read about. 

Now, of course, you can also just write whatever the hell you want without trying to appeal to your audience. This is what I do a lot of the time. Turns out that the things I like to write about tend to fall more in line with the tropes that are already popular in this fandom. 

Spelling and Grammar

People really hate to read stories that have tons and tons of spelling and grammar mistakes. Make sure before you post anything, you put your story in Word or Grammarly (I use the free version) to check for spelling, grammar, and punctuation mistakes. Trust me, your readers will thank you for it.

Practice, Practice, Practice

I’ve been writing creative stories since I was 11 years old. The stories I wrote back then are absolutely shit compared to the stories I write now. So please don’t get discouraged if you write a story and you don’t feel like it’s very good. 

Keep trying! Just like with anything else, the more you do it, the better you’ll be at it. There are so many things you’ll learn as you continue to write. Seriously, just recently, I realized I wasn’t always putting a comma in my compound sentences to break up the independent clauses. But hey, hey, now I know. 

Pacing, characterization, and plot are also things that will improve the more you write. Writing drabbles (stories with maybe just a few hundred words) will help with this. It will help you learn to choose the most important scene or dialogue and write it in an impactful, emotional, and compelling way. 

Okay, class is dismissed! If you have any other questions then feel free to send me another ask! 

[terramythos]

TerraMythos 2021 Reading Challenge - Book 2 of 26

Title: Authority (The Southern Reach #2) (2014) - REREAD

Author: Jeff VanderMeer

Genre/Tags: Horror, Science Fiction, Ecological Horror, Cosmic Horror, Mystery, Weird, Third-Person, Unreliable Narrator

Rating: 8/10

Date Began: 1/05/2021

Date Finished: 1/10/2021

John "Control" Rodriguez, a disgraced former spy, is given an opportunity to redeem himself at the Southern Reach, the clandestine organization that oversees the mysterious and horrifying Area X. The director has gone missing following the disastrous "twelfth" expedition in Annihilation. Control is brought in to take over her job and fix the Southern Reach... and perhaps find a way to combat the insidious, paranormal effects of Area X.

But Control soon discovers just how deep Area X's corruption infects the place. Even worse, failures of the past-- both his own and those of the Southern Reach-- return to haunt him in disturbing ways. Badly outmatched within and without, Control will need to do everything he can to save not only the organization, but himself.

The last fragment of video remained in its own category: "Unassigned." Everyone was dead by then, except for an injured Lowry, already halfway back to the border.

Yet for a good twenty seconds the camera flew above the glimmering marsh reeds, the deep blue lakes, the ragged white cusp of the sea, toward the lighthouse.

Dipped and rose, fell again and soared again.

With what seemed like a horrifying enthusiasm.

An all-consuming joy.  

Full review, some spoilers, and content warning(s) under the cut.

Content warnings for the book: some body horror but way toned down compared to Annihilation. Mind control/hypnotic suggestion is still a thing. Non graphic sexual content. Disturbing images. Without spoiling the entire book, there are several scenes that come off as gaslighting, but do have an alternate explanation. As before, a pervasive sense of unreality.  

While Annihilation is a deep dive into the horrors of Area X, Authority takes a step back. It examines the situation from the perspective of the Southern Reach, the organization that oversees the expeditions we got to know so intimately in the last book. Control is a newcomer, so he functions as a natural outsider perspective. However, he's far from naïve due to his past experience in what I have to assume is the CIA (just called "Central" in the book). It's clear from the get-go that the Southern Reach is falling apart with its ancient buildings, circular and helpless theories, dwindling funding, and bizarre office politics. While Annihilation frames the Southern Reach as shady and possibly complicit in Area X's existence, Authority demonstrates the government would be predictably bad at handling an unknowable cosmic horror zone over any length of time.

Though I noted in my Annihilation review that most of the mystery surrounding Area X remains just that, Authority casually drops two major revelations in the first few chapters. First is... it's definitely aliens, right? Like, that's the only explanation that tracks-- why everything about the place is anathema to humanity, why it's impossible for characters to fully understand it, why mimicry is such a major aspect, etc. If you didn't suspect this already, it explains a lot. In particular, the "colonization" terminology and imagery in Annihilation hits different in that context. I have a lot of feelings about how this series approaches the extraterrestrial, but I'll save that for my Acceptance review.

The second reveal is that Control is taking over for the former director of the Southern Reach, who is MIA following Annihilation's "twelfth" expedition. Who is the director? The psychologist-- the pseudo antagonist of the last book, who we know got Super Killed Off. Turns out she's important and probably not actually evil? The biologist is also inexplicably back, but something is off about her, and she insists on being called Ghost Bird now. Did the biologist truly return (counter to the ending of the last book) or is this one of the shells Area X sometimes spits back out into the real world? If she's the latter, Ghost Bird seems to have much more personality and self awareness than the others. It is interesting to consider an entity of Area X would willingly name herself.

So, Authority is a weird book. The horror element is still present, but toned down. Instead, there's a lot of focus on the new character Control, his past, and the workings of the Southern Reach. In some ways this is refreshing. Annihilation (and the finale Acceptance) are so deeply entwined with Area X it's hard to see what "normal" looks like, and Authority brings that perspective. Relatively speaking. Second, and this is a spoiler, much of that normalcy is a facade. Control is basically mind controlled (heh) by a faction in Central, and is unaware of it for most of the book. It comes across in little ways, like the anachronistic storytelling and Control's confusion/disorientation at times.

We also learn that Area X doesn't just contaminate things inside it, but things outside it as well... and it's been doing this for some time. As a result, there's always a sense of Area X lurking in the periphery, manifesting in strange and unexpected ways. Something I like is the background chatter Control overhears being lines from Annihilation, which he isn't aware of, but the reader sure is.

I've read this book a few times, and while there are things I really like about it, it's probably my least favorite of the trilogy. I think the slower pacing and different narrative approach have merits, but just aren't as interesting to me as the rest of the series. It's noteworthy that my favorite bits in Authority are the disturbing video of the first expedition and the sudden End of Evangelion-esque return of Area X near the end-- not the espionage and philosophical tangents that comprise most of the book.  There are several ideas that seem interesting but don't go anywhere, and those feel like a waste of space. I think Authority could be pared down to half its page count and still get across the same feelings and general concept.

Control is also not the most interesting protagonist, especially compared to previous and later characters. He's not terrible, but he spends most of his time just thinking in circles and observing mundane office politics. While this is fine at first it starts to drag as the story goes on. As I said, a lot of tangents go nowhere, and there's not much going on beyond those until well over halfway into the book. Control does have a hidden tragic backstory, and it's interesting enough, but it barely factors into the overarching Area X storyline outside some symbolic comparisons. He feels out of place, perhaps intentionally.

I do like the dry humor and observations Control brings and how they contrast with the intense tone of Annihilation. I can also see the appeal of having a more ordinary character, if only to bring context to the extraordinary. But the problem is Control isn't ordinary. He's the youngest member of a dynasty of professional spies! Yet somehow I just don't find him exciting compared to an antisocial biologist. I dunno. Ultimately Control is a pawn in the story, used and manipulated by other people, and (spoilers) this doesn't change in Acceptance.

I had similar dilemmas with VanderMeer's Ambergris books, particularly book two, so perhaps it's a fact about his writing. When it's good it's GOOD, but sometimes the things I like get lost in rambling narrative fluff. The question is whether getting through the less interesting parts is worth it for the really good parts. With The Southern Reach trilogy, I'd argue the latter. I have no issues with the style or pacing in Annihilation or Acceptance, and the overarching story is fascinating.

I've mentioned many times before that I usually struggle with book twos in trilogies, and this one isn't an exception. However, I do appreciate what Authority is going for on a meta and lore level when viewing the series as a whole. It does establish a lot of things that either explain earlier stuff or pay off later; it just takes a while to get to them. The context of everything else bumps this to an 8.