#will i ever publish my may wrap up?? who knows!!!

[deanncastiel]

2024 Book #152

Title: Merciless Saviors Author: H.E. Edgmon Genre: Fantasy, Young Adult, LGBTQIA+ Series: The Ouroboros, Book 2

That day at the First Church of Gracie changed everything for Gem Echols, and not just because Marian and Poppy betrayed them. Forced to use the Ouroboros knife on Zephyr, who had kidnapped their parents, Gem now has the power of the God of Air. While for any other god things might work out okay, the Magician—whose role within the pantheon is to keep the balance—having the power of another god has thrown everything into chaos. The Goddess of Death can now reanimate corpses; the God of Art’s powers are now corrupted and twisted, giving life to his macabre creations; and, while the God of Land has always been able to communicate with creatures of the Earth, now everyone can hear their cries. As Gem, Rory, and Enzo search for a way to restore the balance without sacrificing themselves, new horrors make them question how far they're willing to go. In the end, Gem may be forced to fully embrace their merciless nature and kill off their own humanity—if it ever really existed in the first place.

Rating: 4 ⭐

Quick thoughts: liked the first one better, this plot meandered quite a bit, wanted several characters to die but alas, a+ for polyamory, enjoyed the ending.

[whatt-the]

Gift for @uno-san

College Stanford x milf reader

Content warnings: age gap obviously, stanford is a warning because I am tired of people pretending he isn't odd as hell, fem reader

Author's note: this takes place in an AU where Stanley never ruined ford's project and he got into his dream college. He is taken under the wing of an esteemed scientist, shenanigans (cheating on ur husband in a loveless marriage) ensue.

devious devious art about this coming soon! Both targeted and about the ambiguous "reader".

This is also only part 1 and there will definetly be more to come

Imagine how Stanford felt when first being invited to his mentor's house, after a particularly lengthy discussion on whatever topic the lecture his mentor gave happened to be about. I can imagine all sorts of emotions running through his mind... anxiety, excitement, a bit of shock- he knew he was smart, but he never thought his theories were reasonable enough to challenge his mentor's views: you see, he really idolized that man. Continuing their discussions would be an honor, and the mere mention of publishing multiple papers with him had stanford's mind racing, he could barely contain his joy!

Now, understand that he had plans for the unexpected visit: he'd prove his worth, his technical prowess, anything to get more of that sweet, sweet approval. We both know he didn't have much of that in his youth, neither did he get much of it now... it seems he is always the single oddest character in any given room, even amongst other well educated, motivated students. "Teacher's pet", "tryhard", he couldn't believe it at first- such childish insults at such an esteemed institution? He thought those got left behind in high school. How innocent he is. Regardless:

His plans were to prove himself.

Well, like I said, were.

Right now? His mind couldn't be further from his studies.

He'd made it to the house alongside the professor, the discussion now spanning multiple topics- he was having fun. Rare, considering any of his other interactions with quite literally anyone else.

(Truly the outcomes are deplorable. His social skills are lacking to an astronomical degree, to the point where it is borderline comical how little he knows about human interaction. It is a cliché, the nerd who doesn't know how to socialize, but it wouldn't be so popular of a trope if it didn't often get reflected in reality. Not like he knew it was very popular to begin with: even the claim that he learned to interact with others through books would be false, since he strayed from any sort of romantic narrative. It was out of a feeling of inadequacy, really.)

Then, the door was opened.

And that's when he met you for the first time.

"You! You're Stanford right? I've heard good things from my husband here-"

"Come on, don't flatter the kid yet." Your husband spoke with a chuckle

"Hey! He deserves to hear how good he's doing! Come here." You walked forward and hugged him, it was your way of greeting people. It was warmer and more welcoming- both things the world lacked severely.

(Stanford found himself paralyzed where he stood for a few moments. He'd already found your personality endearing -your appearence even moreso-, and now you're pressed up against him? He simply must be dreaming. You felt so soft against him-- heavens, how long had it been since he'd received a hug? Far too long, clearly, but he doesn't remember them ever feeling this good)

The societal pressure to reply to this action in some way caught up to him fast, however. He was quick to place a hand on your waist, his range of motion being limited from your arms wrapping around his own. He may experience the social pressure, but he really has no clue what's appropriate and what isn't, huh? Cute.

(Had he a modicum of self control, he'd most definetly have had a much more timely and well adjusted response to your touch, but amidst the smell of your perfume, your soft arms around him, your hair tickling against his face, the feeling of your hands on his back... nothing carried the same weight as your presence did, who could blame him for doing what his mind instructed him to do and touch you back somehow? He'll come to find that he will blame himself very much for this interaction. No one more judgemental on his behaviors than the one responsible for them)

Once you pulled back from him, you were quick to usher them inside and offer them snacks, reasoning that they'd deserved something nice after studying and debating so much on so many topics. Your husband eagerly agreed and impatiently waited for your food through busying himself by unearthing blueprints and all sorts of different research papers so there would be grounds for his and ford's endless theorizing.

And thus, as you left, Stanford was left with his own thoughts. He made note of the fact that those very same thoughts were entirely consumed by you: how you dressed, how you looked, how soft your hair was, how lovely your voice sounded; all things that brought him much joy to think about, but equal parts of shame. He didn't necessarily want to have any such invasive thoughts about his professor's wife, yet there he is, with his thoughts growing more wretched by the minute. It's almost like his brain was against him: guiding thoughts that had him blushing at the very visage into his mind's eye. He wanted your hands on his back again- he wanted you to drag your nails across it-- he wanted to feel your lips on his, he wanted to feel your breath grow shaky against him--

"Here it is!! Sorry for the wait"

Papers getting dropped on the table and a thankful sigh were the next things he heard. His professor turned to him, instructing him to sit at the table, since "if you don't come quick, there won't be any left for you!"

Your food was great, simply regarded as the usual to your husband, but seen as the world's 8th wonder by Stanford. When asked if he was enjoying the food, he quickly assured you that he was absolutely enjoying it, making sure to remark that it is "the best thing he's had since he entered college", which was not at all a lie, considering he was surviving off of microwaved cup noodles and the occasional granola bar- but even he knew that was too pathetic for him to mention at all.

Your husband and Stanford made quick work of the snacks and promptly got back to... spewing big pompous words and numbers at eachother... at least it seems they were having fun, considering they'd laugh toguether on occasion. That must be a good sign? You weren't entirely sure what was happening with those 2, and you took to not interrupting them in lest you break their chain of thought.

The afternoon went by in the blink of an eye to them. Discussions on various theories followed by reading research papers followed by sketching on blueprints followed by more reading research papers. It was their passion, it seems. However, ford was greatly saddened that it was already so late- he knew full well that if he stayed any longer he'd end up spending the night on your couch, so both him and his professor agreed that it was very much time for him to go back to campus snd consequently to the dorms.

Of course, that wasn't going to happen before he got to say goodbye to you. Even if he was embarrassed to look you in the eye after a full day of... various thoughts about you, he couldn't seem to get enough of your presence. Making his way towards the front door, you were the only one who accompanied him, since your husband was quite busy organizing the mess him and his pupil had created throughout the day.

As you stood at the doorway, you saw yourself growing quite sorrowful that he'd be leaving already, he was quite interesting to you. However, nothing could have prepared neither you nor him for what he did next. He turned around to face you once more, seemingly debating something in his mind for an instant. But, just as quickly as his uncertainty was noticed, it vanished, being replaced by a conviction and fervor he didn't expect from himself -his self control seemed to disappear when he was with you- .Thus, he gently took a hold of your hand and brought it up to his height, kissing the back of it lightly. You could feel your heart skip a beat; you hadn't experienced any such romantic gestures in... god knows how long. As he pulled back, you spoke.

"I-it was... lovely meeting you Stanford." You squeezed his hand as you took a step forward. As soon as he returned your sentiment, he was gone. Though, in the look you both shared during those brief moments, you both knew this wasn't going to be the last time he'd be in this house.

You'd both make sure of it.

Stanford's professor after ford practically begged to go back to his house again: "did you really like her cooking that much?"

Stanford, sweating profusely: "yeah.. her.. . Cooking......"

[greymoonfeelings]

You and Me

pairing: Jake Seresin x fem! reader

word count: 0.7k

note: this is a little blurb I’ve had in my drafts forever and I wanted to get it published. I firmly believe Jake says says “give me some sugar” when he wants a kiss and you will not change my mind.

•••

You let out a huff, swirling the ice cubes in your drink around with the plastic straw. With your head in your hand, you watch as Jake celebrates his latest pool victory with his friends. He wasn’t ignoring you on purpose, but he was so wrapped up in the energy of his friends that he had yet to realize you weren’t feeling the same.

After Coyote slaps him on the back, Jake spins around to face you. He looks over to you expectantly, hoping to see you smiling at him, but instead notices the downturn of your lips as you stare down at your drink. Jake excuses himself from his friends before approaching you.

“What's wrong, darlin?” He slides into the booth beside you, throwing an arm around your slumped shoulders.

“Nothing.” You force a smile, not wanting to ruin his fun with your sour mood. Jake cocks his head to the side giving you a knowing look. There is no use lying to him. He has always been able to see right through you.

You sigh in defeat. “I thought tonight would just be us. I love your friends, but we’re with them so much and I miss spending time alone with you.”

“Why didn’t you say something earlier?” His tone is soft, not accusing.

“I didn’t want to sound needy.” You peer down at your drink again, pretending to be interested in the condensation running down this side so you don’t have to look your boyfriend in the eye.

You’re terrified of Jake suddenly deciding that you’re too high maintenance. Maybe he wants a girlfriend who’s more go-with-the-flow and less clingy. Jake is a boisterous and extroverted person, why would he ever want to be with someone who was the exact opposite?

Jake recognizes that look on your face. The one you make when your order comes out wrong but you eat it anyway because you don’t want to be a bother. The one you wear when someone suddenly starts talking over you because they either didn’t realize you were speaking or they just didn’t care. Jake hates that look, hates that you feel like you’re not good enough to take up space.

“There’s no one else I would rather spend time with than you, darlin’. You can always tell me what you’re feeling, you don’t have to hide from me or feel embarrassed.”

“You’re so good to me, Jake. I’m not used to my feelings being considered.”

“Your feelings deserve to be treated with respect and I love you, I always want you to be comfortable.”

“I love you too.”

“Gimme some sugar.” Jake leans in, his lips searching for yours.

“Not here.” You duck away from him, looking around at the crowded bar.

“No one’s looking. They’re all too focused on themselves. C’mon, I missed you too, darling.” Jake whispers reassuringly as he presses kisses to the side of your face.

You take another quick look around the bar before deciding that he’s right. You lean into Jake’s side and press your glossed lips against his.

When you pull away, Jake licks his lips trying to savor the taste of you. “Mm, cherry. My favorite.”

“You’re not supposed to lick it off, weirdo.” You laugh and give your boyfriend a playful shove.

“Let’s get out of here. There’s a carton of ice cream back home with our names written all over it and I may have finally caved and subscribed to Disney Plus.”

Jake wraps his arm around your waist and tucks you against his side. After saying goodbye to his friends, he leads you out into the parking lot, his body warming you against the cool breeze from the ocean.

The two of you spend the remainder of the night curled up in bed sharing the tub of ice cream while your favorite movie plays. Jake makes sure you know just how much he cherishes his time with you. Being alone with just him refills your energy just the way you were hoping it would and you fall asleep feeling even more in love with your man.

[rin-fukuroi]

Hi! How are you!

May I request semi-exhibitionism with Dan Heng and his s/o as she strokes his horns, chest, and back while giving him a handjob?

Hi! Thanks for the request!

I hope you're in a good mood and haven't died from waiting, my friend ♡(>ᴗ•)

𝐍𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐞 [𝐃𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐠]

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

The originals of my works can be read here

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail

Pairings: Dan Heng x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, established relationships, semi-exhibitionism, handjob, dragon shape, excessive stimulation.

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq

art: @enirate

Ever since Dan Heng returned from the meeting, which he never said a word about, he looked rather depressed. Although, perhaps, it seemed to you that his eternally indifferent expression on his face began to look different only because your lover had changed in general. It was awkward to stare and ask to touch his unusual body parts, which were revealed to your eyes only now, when he guiltily explained and apologized to you for not telling you about his past right away, but since that day your head hasn't left the thought of what this iridescent mother-of-pearl scales feel like, adorning the tail, and how will Dan Heng feel if you touch his jade horns?

However, now is probably not the time for that either, but on the other hand, when will you ever see him in this form again? Dan Heng promised that he would return to his former form soon and who knows when you'll have another opportunity to explore these amazing features of your lover's body.

And, of course, it's very inappropriate to do this now, when both of you are trying to distract yourself from the intense events that took place at the Loufu by whiling away time at the festival in Aurumaton Allay, but patience has never been your strong suit.

— Dan Heng, — you stop when you both walk past a deserted alley, grabbing your lover by the wrist. — Shall we stop here for a while?

— Hm-m? — the man turns around, giving you an incredulous look, but still humbly follows you when you pull him around the corner of one of the buildings. — What happened, Y/N?

You look around, checking to see if anyone is nearby, before letting go of Dan Heng's hand, standing on tiptoe to whisper in his ear.

— May I… Touch your tail?

The man's emerald eyes widen as you lower yourself back down, looking at him with the most innocent look you're capable of.

—Wh-what? Right now?

— You said yourself that you'll return to your old form soon! Besides, what's the big deal? It's just a tail.

— Then why did you bring me here? — Dan Heng crosses his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow.

— I thought it might embarrass you!

It's hard to argue with your absurd logic, and he doesn't even want to do it. Vidyadhara exhales heavily, dropping his arms in resignation before turning his back on you.

— Just do it quickly.

— So it's embarrassing for you after all! — you giggle maliciously, stretching out your hands to the long tail gently swinging on the asphalt.

The first touch was especially exciting. The scales, which previously seemed sharp, turned out to be quite pleasant and smooth to the touch when you slowly ran your fingertips over the surface of the tail. More confidently, you wrapped both hands around the tail, feeling it flinch slightly from a more tangible touch. It's amazing that Dan Heng's body has always been so warm, but his tail is quite cool. You gently stroke the slippery scales and slide your fingers along the ridge line, curiously watching the tail wriggle slightly in your hands.

Dan Heng confusedly blunts his gaze at the wall opposite, curling his fingers into fists.

— I think that's enough, — the man says sharply, indifferently turning back to face you and pulling his tail out of your grip.

— Hey! I haven't finished yet, — you puff out your cheeks, already about to scold your lover, but instead you look up, causing Dan Heng even more concern with your returned curious look. — Then can I touch them?

You point your finger at vidyadhara's horns, and Dan Heng suddenly backs away.

— Next time, it's time for us to go back, — the man is about to slip away from you, but you stop him by grabbing his forearm and forcing him to press against the wall of the building behind.

—Please, just once, — you plead, pressing your chest against Dan Heng's body and stretching your hand up.

— D-don't, Y/N… — your lover's words are cut off, replaced by a quiet languid sigh as soon as your curious fingers touch one of his horns, and you freeze, lowering your gaze back to Dan Heng's face.

The man's cheeks are powdered with blush, and his emerald eyes shyly avoid eye contact. He's really embarrassed! On the one hand, you wouldn't want to put your lover in an awkward position in a place like this, which anyone present at the festival can pass by at any moment, but on the other… Dan Heng looks so cute when you slowly slide down his horn, ripping another sigh from the man's parted lips.

Although he asked you to stop, it doesn't seem like your lover really wanted to. Each gentle touch of your fingers responds with an intoxicating tremor in the man's body, dissolving any objections that have settled on his tongue, and you only press on him even more, now wrapping your palm around the horn, gently tracing the tip with your thumb.

— Y/N… — Dan Heng whispers, leaning slightly towards your touch, but grabbing your forearm in a feeble attempt at protest.

— I didn't even think you were so sensitive here, — you smile, unclenching your fingers and leaving only the tips on the horn before slowly dragging them down. — Is it really that pleasant for you?

Dan Heng doesn't answer, instead blunting his gaze at his feet until he closes his eyes completely when the pads of your fingers reach the top again. The man finally gives up, just leaving his hand on yours. His legs weaken from the sweet impulses of pleasure tormenting vidyadhara's body, and Dan Heng shifts the weight of his body to the wall behind, barely restraining the moans that accumulate in his throat.

Despite his cold appearance, he has never shown much dominance over you either in life or in bed, but this is the first time you see him in such a mess. Dan Heng is so docile and lost in the thrall of the pleasant sensations that your fingers give him that you involuntarily catch yourself thinking that this isn't enough. Neither you nor him.

You extend your free hand forward, pressing your palm against Dan Heng's groin. A strangled moan still escapes from the man's chest when you gently grasp his erection through the fabric.

— Oh, are you really turned on by me touching your horns? — you ask mockingly, letting go of his horn, instead moving your hand to the bare skin peeking out of the neckline on the man's chest. — It seems that now you don't want me to stop?

— N-no … — Dan Heng answers quietly, turning away from your gaze.

— Does "no" mean that I can continue or…? — you tease your lover by wrapping your palm more tightly around the outline of a hard cock hidden behind your trousers.

You laugh when you get only a restrained groan in response, and slip your fingers under the fabric on Dan Heng's chest. Of course, you understand what he really wants, but you couldn't resist embarrassing your lover even more.

— If you moan so loudly, someone will definitely hear you, — you lean into Dan Heng's ear, whispering softly as your hand, resting on his dick, moves to the waistband of his trousers, carefully making its way down until it reaches his heated erect flesh. — I don't think I'd want anyone else but me to see you like this, so try to keep your voice down, okay?

Dan Heng's cock shudders when you squeeze the base in your palm, slowly sliding your fist up and down, not missing the opportunity to run the pad of your thumb along the urethra, smearing the pre-ejaculate on the elastic head. The palm on Dan Heng's chest gently squeezes the tense flesh before your fingers close on the man's nipple, gently pinching the hardened flesh.

You don't even notice how your breathing is getting short as the movements of your hand caressing your lover's cock accelerate. The sight of his flushed face and the feeling of his hips pushing slightly towards you every time your hand goes down the base are so tempting that a pleasant heat flares up in the bottom of your stomach, and moisture sticks to your underwear, forcing your legs to close around Dan Heng's exposed knee.

— Y/N… that's enough, I'm going… — the man clenches his teeth, holding back the loud moan stuck in his throat. Dan Heng's head hits the wall, and you feel his cock swell in your hand.

— Hush, hush, I'll take care of everything, — you laugh playfully, on the contrary accelerating your movements, pulling your other hand out from under the fabric on Dan Heng's chest to grab the waistband of his trousers, hurriedly lowering them lower along the man's hips.

Dan Heng resignedly presses the back of his hand to his forehead, exhaling in a strangled way as you squat, continuing to casually slide his palm over the base of the throbbing dick before wrapping his lips around the swollen head just in time to catch every viscous drop of sperm pouring out of the urethra with his mouth.

Vidyadhara lets out a hoarse restrained moan into the air, his hips tremble until the last sticky drop settles on your tongue, and the waves of orgasm do not subside, gradually returning Dan Han to reality. He feels your lips and palm pull away, exposing his sensitive penis to the coolness of the air, and the man's heavy eyelids open slightly, allowing turquoise eyes to meet your teasing gaze as you defiantly slowly swallow his sperm, licking your lips with satisfaction.

— Y/N, you… — Dan Heng says irritably, glaring at you from the height of his height, while you carefully straighten up, returning his trousers back to the belt.

— You should have seen your face. Can I take a picture of you next time while I'm stroking your horns and put it on my phone screen saver? — you laugh melodiously, putting your hands behind your back and leaning forward.

— No way. It won't happen again, — Dan Heng mutters discontentedly, turning around and indifferently walking back to the busy streets of the alley.

You giggle to yourself before catching up with your lover, aligning your step with his.

— O-oh, that's it! And I was hoping for a continuation in your room.

[lurking-latinist]

How to Suck Less at Summaries

Probably almost anyone who's ever posted a fic to ao3 or a platform with a similar interface has been hit by that moment of panic, breaking in on the euphoria of having finished and polished a fic--"what do I put for the summary?!"

So much so, that "I suck at summaries" in the summary box has become something of a cliche. It's very understandable! You've already put all that work into writing the fic itself, and now you have to write ANOTHER thing with its own set of conventions and expectations? No way!

And I want to start by saying that that's absolutely fine. Fic writing is your hobby, your creative endeavor; you're not obligated to do anything in it that you don't want to. You can leave the summary box completely blank--ao3 will let you--and there's no reason you shouldn't, if that's what you want to do! If you're happy with your summaries, please don't change them. There's no wrong way to do summaries. This is your invitation to ignore the entire rest of this post!

However. My impression is that an awful lot of people aren't happy with their summaries. They would like to have summaries that catch a reader's attention, that fit common patterns, or that give a good representation of the fic; they're just not sure how to accomplish that, or what readers might be expecting. And the good news is that writing various styles of summaries, like other kinds of writing, is a skill you can improve--and that there are some tips and tricks that can help you write the kinds of summaries you may want to write more quickly.

How do I know? Well, on top of having read I don't know how many fics, I've published 200 of my own, with all different kinds of summaries. (In fact, writing this post is my treat to myself to celebrate publishing 200 fics!) So I have a lot of trial and error experience to draw on. I'll be using my own summaries as examples (plus some hypothetical examples), because I don't want to be nitpicking anyone else's!

I'm going to throw in a cut now because this is gonna get long.

What do you want to accomplish with your summary?

That's the first question you might want to ask yourself. And the answer really is up to you! The name "summary" suggests it's supposed to be a sort of short version of your story. That's one option. But summaries are often used to accomplish various other things, too: some of my favorite summaries don't really tell you anything about the plot of the fic, but instead give you a glimpse of the writer's style or lure you in with a question. It can also fill organizational purposes like commemorating the reason the fic was written (although author notes can also be effective for things like this).

Most fundamentally, I tend to think of the summary box as a place to manage your readers' expectations. I want them to have some sense of what the fic they're about to read might be like, and I want to present that in a way that highlights why it might be appealing to them. Of course, what I write won't be appealing to every reader--and an effective summary, plus accurate tags and ratings of course, allows a reader who won't enjoy what I have to offer to quickly keep scrolling and find something that fits their tastes better. But the way I think of them, summaries are really mainly for readers who will enjoy my fic if they decide to open it. A summary for a fic is like a pretty package for a gift: the gift is great in itself, and the nice gift-wrap makes it more eye-catching and more fun to open!

Sidebar: This "managing expectations" thing is, I think, the reason why authors sometimes add notes in the summary like "I'm sorry if this sucks" or "this is my first fic, it's probably terrible." I completely understand where this comes from--you don't want to make your readers expect some kind of genius literature and then only have something to give them that you yourself are still insecure about! But I really do think they're generally counterproductive. On the one hand, that kind of negative self-talk will tend to undermine your own confidence and make you more insecure about your writing, not less; on the other hand, they can subconsciously prime your readers to notice weaknesses and issues that they might otherwise not even have paid attention to! That doesn't mean you have to pretend you think your writing is perfect; very few of us do think what we post on fic archives is perfect. There's nothing wrong, even, with a note like "this is my first fic" or "this one is a bit experimental, I'm not sure how I feel about it" or "this wasn't written in my first language" or even "this is an old fic and I don't think it represents my best work anymore", although I tend to put that kind of commentary on craft in the author's notes rather than the summary, but that's just me; there's no rule. As an example, when I recently published my first fic in the Hornblower fandom, which has a historical setting I wasn't previously very familiar with, I thanked my beta for helping me avoid "historical howlers" and added "any remaining are my own responsibility." That made me feel better about potential mistakes in research by showing that I was aware I might have made some. I put this in an author's note at the end of the story. But, for the sake of you as a writer as well as me as a reader, I'm asking you--please don't start out our reader/writer relationship by telling me it's terrible! Give yourself a chance to shine. Even if there's a lot you're insecure about in your fic, there's something you love--maybe it's the premise, the ship, even one particular line--that makes you want to share it with the world. Use the summary to highlight that. As your reader, that's what I want to know about!

Anyway, now that you've decided what you want your summary to accomplish, there are a couple of very easy ways to fill the summary box that you might want to consider--if they make sense for your fic.

Just quote the prompt

When I write prompt-fic, often very short, I frequently just quote the prompt itself as the summary. An example would be my 3 Sentence Ficathon fic archived on ao3. Since the challenge in this event is to write a complete fic in only three sentences, a summary wouldn't be much shorter than the fic itself! So I just do summaries like

For reeby10's prompt: "Doctor Who, Clara/Twelve, unforgettable."

(Gaps)

This can work outside of prompt memes, too. If you're doing a monthly challenge, for instance, something like

Flufftember day 21, 'breakfast in bed'

might tell your readers all they need to know to be interested in your story and know what to expect.

Set the context

For some fic, the most important thing you want your readers to know going in is something about the fic's context. For instance, with drabbles I sometimes use the summary as a place to sneak in information about setting/what's supposed to be happening that I didn't have room for in the drabble itself. For Susan's Twist, a 100-word drabble, I set the scene in the summary:

Susan is grooving to the latest chart-topper of 1963. But for some reason, the song makes her grandfather uncomfortable.

which meant I didn't have to use any of my 100 words explaining "Susan was listening to the radio, when..." Since Susan's Twist was inspired by someone else's Tumblr post, I could also just have referenced that post in the summary. But in this case, I chose to phrase the premise in my own words in the summary, and cite the Tumblr post in the author's notes (I also tagged the OP when I shared the fic on Tumblr).

Flower Children is an example of a drabble with a not particularly effective summary where I could have used this strategy quite effectively. The summary is just

Neither of them wants to fight.

which is all right, but which doesn't do much to set up the (admittedly cracky) Eighth Doctor/Dalek Oswin pairing that motivates the fic. But then, I've always felt like I didn't have quite as much of an idea as I'd like about what the context for this fic is supposed to be. Maybe I'll write more about them sometime.

Setting the context can also be useful for summaries of AUs. Very often, what draws people into AUs is the AU concept itself.

For instance, the premise of my story te quaerens, Ariadna is that the events of the audio Zagreus go differently and the Doctor remains possessed by/transformed into Zagreus. So that's what I said in the summary:

The Doctor is still Zagreus, but he and Charley find ways to keep going.

In this case, the summary is accomplishing more than one thing; it explains the concept, but it also indicates a bit of the story's tone--it's fairly optimistic given its premise, and it's more about how their relationship evolves than any particular plotty event.

With setting change AUs--especially in familiar AU settings, like a coffeeshop, high school, or fantasy monarchy--often what readers will most want to know is what roles the characters are filling; in other words, how the translation from canon to AU has been made. For instance, my story Warmth is already tagged as a coffeeshop AU with the Fifth Doctor, Nyssa, Tegan, and Adric, so the summary indicates that it's told from the perspective of Tegan as a new employee:

Unexpectedly stranded in London and looking for work, Tegan finds a place where she just might fit in.

If she had been a longtime employee or a customer, that would have changed the story's dynamics, and I would have wanted the summary to reflect that instead. I could have also added that the Doctor is the shop's manager and Nyssa and Adric are the existing employees, but I decided to let the story itself reveal that in this case.

With someone's planted a bath bomb in the matrix, which is a retail AU inspired by an incorrect quotes tumblr post, I just stuck the whole tumblr post in the summary box:

Romana: When you work at lush and a customer comes in and bites the soap because they think it’s cheese… this happens way more frequently than you think. Leela: If you stopped literally presenting soap as deli food this wouldn't happen. Narvin: Who goes into a bath store and thinks something covered in glitter is cheese? Brax: Who goes to the store and just takes a bite from the cheese? ~incorrectgallifreyquotes.tumblr.com

I might do that a bit differently now--maybe more the way I handled Susan's Twist--maybe something like this in the summary:

An uptight employee and a too-suave customer are making Romana's job managing a bath store way too stressful. Thank goodness--probably--that her best friend works for mall security.

And then I'd have put the tumblr post that inspired it in author's notes.

Thing is, though, that reflects my taste and what I think is effective now, but it doesn't mean I did it wrong the first time. People read and enjoyed the story, and it was fine!

Also I just showed this post to Moki and she said she thinks the first one's more intriguing. So that just goes to show, it's really a matter of taste.

This strategy is also useful for missing scenes and things like that. Something as simple as

While waiting for Z to return from the rendezvous, X and Y have a conversation.

can draw in readers very effectively, especially if X and Y's conversation was kind of obviously a gap in the story that they might already be curious about.

Use a quote

A surprisingly effective and straightforward way to create a summary is just to use a quote from the fic. I've seen tons of great summaries like this that hook me in immediately. I struggle with using it myself, because I want the line I quote to be powerful/impactful/intriguing and give some sense of what the plot is like and make sense out of context, and I don't often seem to be able to find lines like that in my own work. But I did for The Moon by Night:

It could not have been more than a day that we clung to the hull of that station full of troopers.

Since this is a space AU for a historical fiction novel, this line gives some sense of how the events of the story have been translated into space, and also shows the voice I'm writing in (I tried to follow the style of the original, which is first-person, which is unusual for me). If you can find a line like that in your work, it can be a great summary. You can even just put the first couple of lines of the fic, especially if you've already worked to make them an effective hook!

You can also use a quote from another source. Was there a line or moment from canon that inspired the fic? A poem or song that fits its mood? You can use the summary as a sort of epigraph. (I often use author's notes for this as well.) If your readers vibe with the quote that inspired the story, they're likely to vibe with the story as well.

I did something like this with Absent thee from felicity awhile. The title is a quote from Shakespeare's Hamlet, and all I put in the summary box was another quote from a couple of lines later:

…to tell my story.

This is so short and contextless, though, that I'm not sure how effective it was. It maybe only works if you recognize the specific Hamlet scene that it's taken from and have thought about that scene in the context of a specific episode of Hornblower. (I promise that, if you do, it's heartbreakingly ironic!) This could have been a good opportunity for me to do a double summary (see below), especially since the story is epistolary and I could've established its context. Although I did kind of like revealing who was reading the letter and when slowly over the course of the story.

Okay, but I do want to explain the plot

Right, so we've established that effective summaries don't have to be in that "back of the book blurb" format. But sometimes you want them to be. Sometimes the thing you're most excited about is the story's plot or events, and you want to communicate that to the reader. But you already wrote the story in order to communicate the plot to the reader; how do you condense it into a sentence or two? Here are some tips that may help.

Are you using familiar tropes? If so, just mentioning them will likely tell your reader not only what the plot is, but that (if they like that trope) they're likely to enjoy it. For instance:

A and B are trapped in a snow cave/ice planet/walk-in freezer and must huddle for warmth.

That particular one will also explain a bit about the setting, if you want.

Relationship status/development is also something that many readers want to know, whether it's a romantic or a gen relationship (e.g. characters becoming friends or realizing they see each other as family). For instance, if A and B admit their romantic feelings for the first time in that huddling for warmth story, you might add:

They get a lot closer than either of them expects...

I rather like ellipses at the end of a summary; I think they imply, sort of, "read the fic to find out the rest." I sometimes use them to soften a summary that feels a bit abrupt. I feel like this might be just me, though? So if you don't like ellipses, nothing wrong with ending that same summary with a period.

If you have a fic where the entire content is some emotional development between characters, the entire summary can easily be that too!

I don't really write smut so I don't have good advice for summarizing it, but I get the feeling this might be a relevant strategy for it?

What changes in the story? This could be a change in characters' attitudes towards each other, in the information they have, in their physical situation, or anything else. A story doesn't have to be about one single major change, but there's almost always at least one. (Or a change fails to happen, but in an interesting way: "five times Lois Lane didn't realize Clark was Superman" would be a perfectly intriguing summary!)

What demands are made of the characters? Many stories involve a character overcoming some kind of challenge or meeting some kind of test. A summary can indicate what that challenge is--and you don't have to indicate whether or how the characters meet it! This can contribute to a feeling of suspense, so that the reader feels they need to read the story to find out how the characters react. For instance, I summarized my story Journey as:

The Doctor and Ace need to stop a dimensional leakage to put a life-sucking entity back where it belongs. But to do so, they'll each need to protect the other in their own way.

What are their own ways? Do they succeed? The reader can probably guess that they do--but how? Their attention is caught, and they'll have to read to find out!

Some notes on format and style

Summary style is as personal as the rest of your writing style, so this is only intended as a mention of a couple of trends I've noticed.

Sometimes summaries are 'in-universe'--i.e. they describe the characters and what they do, without reference to the existence of the fic itself as a textual entity--and sometimes, like the "five times" example I gave above, they refer to the fic's format, characteristics, relationship to canon, etc. in direct terms. (For instance, the example I gave for a missing scene was 'in-universe,' but I could just as well have said "While waiting for Z to return during Episode 3..."). Either of these approaches are fine, although I personally tend to incline more towards the in-universe style unless I have a particular reason to use the other, such as in Differences of Opinion, which took a lot of metatextual explaining:

When I read enough easily-crossed-over stories, such as for instance the Age of Sail books that I have been reading lately and also spaceship stories inspired thereby, what inevitably happens is I end up with a nebulous meta crossover setting where they can all hang out outside of their respective canons. Here's one conversation from that setting.

I keep wondering if something more terse might have been more effective, and I could have put all that in the author's notes. But I really think that for anyone who would enjoy this fic, the metatextual complication is a big part of the appeal. So I put it in the summary.

It's pretty standard to write in-universe-style summaries in the present tense, even if the fic is in the past tense. "The characters do this and that," not "the characters did this and that." You don't have to, but it's what your reader is most likely to be expecting.

It seems to be quite common to have a double summary: one that maybe reflects the style and tone of the fic, and another, more matter-of-fact one that explains the plot. They're frequently joined by "or." I don't typically use it--maybe because I rarely have the problem of having too much summary--but if you do, this could be a great solution.

Spellcheck and proofread your summary extra. Whatever strategies you normally use to make sure the words in your story are the words you actually meant to write, it's a good idea to turn those strategies on the summary with special intensity. After all, this is your first impression on your reader, so you probably want to look as polished as possible!

These are just a few things I've noticed that I tend to think about when staring at that blinking cursor in the summary box. I hope they may help you, too, to feel like you have something to say in that moment!

[rabioa]

Collar-ful Engravings

Vox x Hellhound!Reader - Fluff - Gender Neutral

Vox gets a hell hound, you, as a business gift. He doesn't really care about you until he sees how much your presence bothers Alastor. Now he's all about you, spoiling you and flaunting you around. Now, he's even got a gift with your name on it... its not too tight now, is it?

TW: Unsexualized petplay(? Reader is a Hellhound so it comes with the territory?), any Hazbin Hotel warnings

Hello hello!!! This is my first attempt at publishing a fanfic. I know it's not perfect so if you have any feedback then please let me know!! Remember to stay hydrated and remember you are loved! <3

You cleared your throat; the sensation of something against such a vulnerable place felt odd. The collar sat proudly around your neck, the design wasn't anything over-the-top, which was how you preferred most things. It was black with a simple silver buckle but in neat cyan cursive engravings read “Vox”.

Vox stood next to you as you stared in the mirror, you hands gingerly testing the fine leather. 

"So what do you think? Pretty nice, right? I had Velvette pick the material. It's not too tight now, is it? If you don't like something about it then I can get it altered, or better yet, get you a new one. I think a neat collection would be nice, wouldn't it?" The T.V. head rambled behind you, his hands resting firmly on your shoulders. Occasionally, his hand would lift off to do some gesture, ever the animated talker. 

"No, it's..." You struggled for words. Oddly possessive? A bit kinky? Really fucking embarrassing to wear? "It's something. Nice quality it's just... a bit much, don't you think...?" You chose your words carefully, not hoping to incite his wrath. You were never a disobedient hellhound after all. 

He laughed off your concerns. "Of course not! You're now a face in the brand. You need to represent, y'know? People have to know who you belong to, that you're associated with the best of the best," he explained, turning you around by your shoulders. He didn't seem to understand how his words sounded. People have to know who you belong to. 

You tried to school your face into something a little more pleasant, so he at least knew you were receptive to his generosity. "Thank you, sir. I believe this luxury is wasted on me though. There are better ways to allocate your resources and money rather than on some random mutt,” you tried your best to explain your thoughts gently. You winced at his unamused expression. It felt like you were letting him down simply by letting the emotions slip.

“No, no, no. None of that” he chided, booping your nose with his index finger. Your snout wrinkled up as it always did when he booped you. “Are you judging my taste? My impeccable eye? Keep your head up high. You aren't just some mutt. No, you are among the big players, so show some respect for yourself. Anyways, it'll show off your brand-new accessory better if you keep your chin up,” he hummed, grabbing your chin to tilt your head higher. He always spoke in such a theatrical way that lifted your mood. Your thoughts may not be kind to yourself, but he was plenty proud of you to make you feel better. 

You instinctively straightened up, not wanting to let him down. He smiled, clearly pleased. “There we go. Now then,” he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, leading you out of the loft and into the elevator. During the long trip down (seriously, it always took a bit to get from the top floor where all the Vee's usually buzzed around in to the bottom) Vox's screen split into two.

On one side was his face, on the other were designs for another collar. The sight of him going split-screen always amused you greatly, reminding you of the silly reddit story videos trending in the living world. “I was thinking for the next collar we go all out. There's this trend of really decked out chokers with charms, charms and all the ribbons. We can easily apply it here, so look, what do you prefer? Black or silver chain? Ah, actually let's just get both variations,” he seemed to be more of talking to himself as he guided himself through a collar shopping spree. 

You were flustered at all the spoiled attention he was giving you. You felt like a cute doll with how he pampered you, meant to sit still and look pretty as he handled all the rest. It was funny, to think a few months ago you were simply another hell hound in your old master's army of hell hounds, doomed to do menial labor for the rest of your life. Now you were on T.V. screens, even a few posters. You were a mini celebrity, the latest gossip when people talked about Vox. 

“How about we leave it to Miss Velvette? It's more of her department,” you suggested meekly. You hoped Velvette would have some mercy and create less flashy collars. 

He snapped his fingers, creating finger guns pointed at you. His face maximized, no longer sharing two windows. “You’re right. She'll make sure it's perfect. We can even get some new outfits to match,” he agreed much to your relief. 

The elevator doors opened and it was like being seared by a million blinking suns. Vox's hand traveled to your waist, pulling you against his side as he flashed a charming grin. You blinked, trying to look pretty and charming to some degree as your eyes adjusted to the flashing cameras. He guided you out, the reporters parting like the Red Sea for the two of you. You were always impressed that they never tried to block him, but you supposed frying a few daring reporters and stepping over them when they tried him was an effective message. 

You shifted closer into his side, a feeble attempt at shielding yourself from the lenses. To the outside perspective it was a sultry move, as if bragging that only you could get close to him. The news articles for the next few days would rave about this, much to your future dismay. 

“Sir, where are we going?” You muttered to him, a shy smile on your face. 

“There's a new VoxTek megastore opening. We are doing the opening. You want to hold the scissors for the ribbon?” He teased you, his claws pressing into your side slightly to convey his joking intent. It wasn't a threatening gesture, but rather a comforting one. The pressure was like a gentle reminder that he was here, with you, holding you, and his grip was firm, ensuring no rascal could steal you away. 

His smile seemed to grow even larger as you both walked down the street. You glanced around, noting nothing of interest or joy around the two of you. He looked down at you, as if understanding your confusion.

“They're already posting about your latest accessory. I wonder, if they're going so wild over a collar, what will they say when the leash comes in?” 

Ah shit, he got you a leash too?

[gghostwriter]

Yours Truly, Romeo

Epilogue __ Ever After

Spencer Reid x FOC

Summary: Washington, DC - A string of grizzly murders and obsessive love letters causes Olivia and Spencer’s paths to intertwine. With a serial killer proclaiming his undying devotion to her and the thick tension surrounding her and her agent turned bodyguard, Olivia’s life is writing out like a contemporary love story that she, as a successful writer, could see herself publishing.

A/N: And this marks the end of my first spencer reid series. I had a lot of fun writing this and I hoped you as a reader enjoyed it too 💗

previous chapter || series masterlist

“But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.” - Act 2, Scene 1. Romeo & Juliet by William Shakespeare 

Olivia wasn’t one to get so nervous on book events. After all, she’d done it countless of times in numerous states but this one may be the one that mattered most. A year after, she had approached her agent with an autobiographical fiction idea—a re-telling of her harrowing stalking and kidnapping case. From the publication standpoint, it would be a guaranteed hit but that wasn’t the reason she wanted to write it, not for the royalties—which she has pledged to donate to a foundation and not for added fame—which she never craved for herself. 

Rather, she wanted to use her privilege and voice for the other victims. Her boyfriend of three years had wholeheartedly supported her idea. Spencer had become a rock for her during the aftermath. He was there to soothe her back to sleep when she’d find herself screaming awake from nightmares, he was there to stroke her hair when a certain smell would remind her of the gilded cage the unsub had built for her, and he was there to kiss her worries away when the anxiety of being touched by another came and went. 

The same Spencer, who made sure his schedule matched with this event, was also nervous. He could decipher patterns, crack cases, and face the worst humanity has to offer without breaking a sweat but here he was almost sick to his stomach for a completely different reason.

He sat by the sidelines as Olivia answered questions picked by the publication and by participating audiences. His mind helplessly wandering as he looked back on how they got here to this moment. Their relationship had its ups and downs, just like any couple would. It wasn’t smooth sailing, especially when she agreed to move in with him in Virginia. The adjustment was rough. For Olivia, it was the downgrading, from a home to an apartment and for Spencer, it was no longer having the place all to himself. Between the both of them, their book collection was enough to overflow the apartment. It took them months of arguments and compromising before finally throwing in the towel and contacting Morgan for housing properties. A big move. A really big move.

Through it all, he realized how much he loved her. There was no moment where he questioned if what they had was real, if it was all just transference. Being with her felt right, like he was always meant for her—two halves of a perfect whole. The journey, no matter how treacherous, was worth it if it meant she was there at the end to squeeze his hand and kiss his worries away. 

He stood up and clapped, along with a hundred listeners as they wrapped up the event—book signing done during the first half. 

“Hey sweetheart, I’m so proud of you,” Spencer breathed out, pulling Olivia into a hug. “You were amazing out there.”

“Thanks, Spence. It was great to know you were here supporting me,” she bashfully adjusted her shoulder bag. “Amanda says I’m free to leave so I’m yours for the rest of the day.”

Taking her hand into his, he gently pulled her towards the exit. “Well, what does my favorite author want to do? The world is our oyster.” 

“Dr. Reid, I think you may be lying. I can’t be your favorite author, that’s Tolstoy’s spot.”

He watched as she threw her head back with laughter. So beautiful she was and so carefree. He knew the dictionary like the back of his hand but there seemed to be no words accurate enough to describe how enchanted she had made him feel. 

“Well who says I can’t have two favorites?” he quipped back before stopping in front of her side of the car. He needed to do it now before it comes tumbling out of him while on the road.

Spencer reached into his satchel, taking a deep breath as he did and pulled out a new copy of her book titled, Yours Truly. “And since you’re my other favorite author, can you sign my copy?”

Olivia’s eyes sparkled with intrigue. “Sure—” she drawled out. “Y’know you could have lined up during the signing a while ago but sure, anything for my number one supporter.”

He raked his hand through his hair as he watched her flip to the dedication page and freeze.

Right below her dedication that says:

To my own knight in shining armor,

Without you, there would not be this.

I will be eternally grateful and foolishly

in love with you till the end of time.

Was an additional paragraph scrawled in his own handwriting

Olivia, will you do me the great honor and allow me to spend the rest of my life by your side. I love you. I love you. I love you. Will you marry me?

She looked up from the book, tears brimming in her eyes, as he presented a black velvet box and nestled within it was a diamond ring. 

“I-I’m usually not good with speeches and I tend to go off on an tangent but Olivia, my love, I can’t imagine a life without you in it. Will you do me the honors?”

“Yes. Yes, of course. Spencer, yes.”

He laughed, slipping the ring into hers where it would stay forevermore. 

“I love you, Olivia.”

“And I love you, Spencer.”

— THE END —

[cartierdreamx]

𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖉 𝕿𝖔 𝕱𝖆𝖑𝖑 *2*

Hi my sweet ones <333, hope you’re well! Sorry for the little wait but I hope the wait is worth it sooo here’s chapter 2, not much to say but I may have teared up a bit writing this and now as I type this my heart still hasn’t recovered, so I apologise in advance hehe. Anyways, I hope you enjoy and if you do, please consider reblogging, following and commenting! Thank you all for your constant love and support! J <33 

If you would like to be apart of a taglist so you know when the next chapter comes out, comment down below or let me know thru asks!! Also please make sure your tags are on, so I’m able to tag you 🫶🏽

Pairings: jenna ortega x fem! Reader 

Warnings: angst cityyy, dark themes, swearing, mentions of weapons and violence and murder. 

This fic is STRICTLY 18+, as it involves adult themes, minors DNI, you are responsible for your own social media intake, which includes reading entertainment which this fic falls under, so one last warning- this fic is 18+. Thank you!  

*though my fics have real people, my fics are just for entertainment and far from reality*

FYI: JENNA IS G!P IN THIS FIC!!

~~

The sting in your eyes was accompanied by an adorning number of buzzes from your phone, annoyed and slightly hangover, mainly from the lack of hydration, because you were no lightweight, you could promise any drinking buddy that, you shove your phone under your pillow, praying that would drown out the buzzing. But, of course, to no avail, whoever or whatever global state of emergency was blowing up your phone, the vibrations so strong, it was tectonic, the buzzes greeted your ears through the bamboo pillow wrapped in silk. Having had enough, you groan and answer a call from Sol.

“Sol, I swear to GOD, someone better be dying.” Your annoyance so clear, it auscultates her ears.

“Y/N! YOU ARE MY STAR GIRL, DYING? THE COMPLETE OPPOSITE EXACTLY.”

Though she can’t see you, confusion paints your face as you slowly sit up and wipe your face, allowing yourself to wipe away the fatigue, after stepping out of Ortega Towers, your little after party consisting of publishing an article, skincare and pyjamas was a blur, in fact, you were so out of it, you considered maybe you hallucinated ever hitting publish. However, the entire masquerade stuck with you, the stench of man who tried to feel up on you left the second you stepped outside for air, but what didn’t was the crown queen of San Francisco, her vanilla essence imprinted on you, so after a night of tossing in turning, no movement could remove her from you. You don’t like it though, and it was ironic, you rejected and blew her off the second you got the chance, but you couldn’t remove her from you. There were fires starting to spark all over your body and the more you deny them, the stronger they burn, funny enough, one grew in your groins. And as repetitive as you sound, you hate it. You hate her. You, hate Jenna?

“What’re you talking about?”

“Oh, don’t act so coy and humble!”

“Sol, I’m like, genuinely serious.” You let out a soft chuckle.

“YOUR ARTICLE, BABES!!, IT BLEW UP, I AM SO PROUD OF YOU, TELL ME EVERYTHING, WAIT NO, GET CHANGED, LET’S GET LUNCH BEFORE WE HEAD INTO WORK. LOVE YOU.”

Without even giving you a chance to breathe, blink or your heart to beat, you hear her hang up, guess you have lunch plans in about 2 hours. Now, about your article, you have no clue what you wrote, only that you couldn’t stop writing the second you sat down, nervousness rivers through your blood, breathing adjacent to your heart rate just thinking about what you wrote, what people think, hell, what Jenna thinks. Oh my God, is she going to kill me? You shake your head trying to rid of that negative thought, Jenna wasn’t like that, she’s above killing innocents, but are you innocent? Mouthing out the last line of your article; … whether it be by her heart, her touch, or her gun, anyone that knows the elusive Ms. Ortega is destined to fall. Your face meets your palm and you’re sure if Jenna or anyone in the family read this, you are sure to meet your maker.

~~

“Wowwww, Jenna, she only knew you for a few hours, but she has every part of you right down to a T.”

Viv giggles as she scrolls through the article, enjoying every little bit of Jenna’s distraught, it was a rare occasion to see the mafia queen like this, and barely anyone could have her like this; a newfound superpower of yours.

“Shut it, Viv, it’s an okay article, and that’s me being generous.”

“I can’t imagine what she’d find out about you if she had stayed for longer.”

“I have no secrets.”

“You’re an idiot if you believe that.”

“Okay, fine, it’s a good article, y/n’s a feisty one.” Jenna finally caves in and shrugs.

“And plus, why do you care about some article?”

“I don’t.”

“Ah, but you do care about her.”

“Shut up, Viv, go make me a coffee.”

Laughter induced tears almost well up Viv’s eyes as she hears Jenna’s commands “oh, buddy she wrote you so good, down to your ego and arrogance, I’m not an assistant, babe, fix your attitude.”

Jenna rolls her eyes at Viv as she blows her a kiss and walks off to complete her long list of errands to complete and maybe some target training later in the day for her own indulgence. Bruce, whose body collected every will to keep silent as he knows he would be putting up with Jenna’s groggy and bitchy attitude all day if she did get riled up enough, but his mental strengths wasn’t as strong as his physicals.

“Bruce, I can see you smirking, knock it off.”

“Sorry, boss.” The 6’8ft, brunette man exclaims, though still smirking.

“You know, you make look and share the same name as Batman, but boy, you sure do lack the mental obedience, quit smirking!” Jenna pouts as she smacks his shoulder, “go scare our shareholders will you, I’ll meet you just before the meeting starts." Bruce chuckles as he leaves Jenna, alone with her thoughts.

And what are her thoughts? You. Rumination isn’t enough to describe how you flood her mind, how you fuel her hunger, how she hates how she doesn’t hate you. But you hate her? As two souls collide, their thoughts are evermore intertwined, and collide was definitely a word you could use to describe the thoughts both of you guys share. What gets her brain twisting the most and her throat closing in is the fact her heart is in denial about what it wants. Jenna would be caught dead before she made herself vulnerable before you made her vulnerable.

She had meetings the entire day but seeing that she’s the ones with guns and glory, no one dare to take her up on being tardy or last-minute cancellations, but despite her arrogant nature, she was respectful, and she was kind to those who deserved it, but even then, her guard was never down.

As her after lunch meeting finishes, she strides up and down the room, looking out into the city, only canvasing confusion on Viv and Bruce’s face.

“Cancel the rest of my meetings, please, Viv. Bruce, take the day off, do whatever you want, I’m heading out.”

Viv and Bruce comply and as Jenna starts heading for the door, Viv can’t help but tease “maybe this time, don’t be a dickhead to y/n, we like her.”

“No promises.”

~~

Allowing the feminine urge to take over, you order a Caesar salad, a huge bowl of fries and a diet coke, such a perfect combo. That, with an extra side of chismosa with Sol, it’s a perfect lunch, however, the topic of gossip was you, you and Jenna that is.

“So, you didn’t hook up with her?” Sol, sighing, sounding deflated and defeated, for some reason she was really rooting for you two, she was so adamant about it.

“Sol, you have some sick delusion running through you, not healthy.” You tsk at her, “besides, I’m sure her sugar bear was enough company.”

Sol gasps so loud out of entertainment she grabs the attention of a few others having lunch. Not wanting people to eavesdrop, you give her a maternal ‘quiet down’ look.  

“Oh, don’t give me that look, I’ve been waiting so long to hear this, tell me more.”

As Sol further indulges in your suffering, you slowly start wishing you two had lunch back at the office or your loft, you were sure other lunch goers used you as a source of entertainment.

Back at the office, a warm standing ovation greets you, with everyone’s eyes and smiles lighting up the second they saw you, maybe they are genuinely impressed, but maybe because they’re all about to get a huge payout from the rising popularity of your article, usually rival companies don’t boost each other’s articles, then it wouldn’t be competition, but yours struck the entire nation, the likes of Buzzfeed and TMZ bowed down to you, making articles about your piece of art. However, as much as it was a piece of art, there’s some part of you that felt guilty about pressing publish, maybe the world didn’t have to read about Jenna’s ego in writing, it could’ve just been left untold, you were the one to tell it. Much like Jenna, your day was filled with meetings, but distraction got the best of you, you barely focused and you couldn’t even tell the higher ups what you plan was next, but nevertheless they were highly impressed with you. So impressed, that there was talk about you moving up, career wise.

At the end of your day, exhaustion kisses your body, you were all Jenna’d out, if you had to speak about Jenna one more time, you were sure to implode, not that you had anything against the people asking you, it was a fair thing to be curious about, but, you wish that maybe this was a one-time thing, that she isn’t your shot to success, that she isn’t running your world, that maybe, you would never hear from her again.

“Hello, Ms. L/N.” A familiar voice speaks, the same person who was anonymous with you on that balcony looking out into the skyline was an arm’s reach. But this time, you waste no time in turning around. A big sigh showcases your defeat, so much for never hearing from her again.

“Miss me?” Jenna teases, definitely not missing her, a plan sparks in that sly mind of yours.

“Hey Sol, look I have someone here who is dying to meet the person behind Bayseyes.”

You see Sol’s jaw drop to the ground as her eyes relay the fact that Jenna Ortega is standing in her building to her brain. “No, I don’t miss you.” You chuckle at her, as you head out, if only you turned around to see Jenna’s reaction, it would have made everything all worth it. Though she was fed up with how well you could turn her down, and she’d let it slide, she was impressed at how well you thought on your feet.

~~

As Jenna relays what happened to Viv and Bruce, she swears smoke spills out her ears as they belly laugh at her failure, their knees weak at every word that leaves Jenna’s mouth, Bruce had to hold Viv and himself to make sure they didn’t topple over.

“Whew, Jenna, she has played you in every way, I love this girl, when she coming back?” Viv teases.

“She’s never coming back.”

“Yeah, clearly, your attempts to reel her in is like fishing with a plastic rod.” Bruce adds, Viv’s face lighting up with pride.

“No, she’s not welcome here.”

“Mhmhm, the same way she’s not welcome in your heart.”

“No, I kicked her out.”

“AH HAH, so you admit she was in your heart.”

“WHAT, NO.”

“Boss…” Bruce cringes.

“WHATEVER, I’M LEAVING.”

The same record plays as she leaves the room, Bruce and Viv hysterically laughing trying to figure out the badass you are.

~~

The next day, it was all the same, this time, Jenna waited for you outside the building with a black Porsche behind her as she leans. As it was all the same, the rejection was no different, blowing her off again as you strut the other way, making sure Jenna saw you roll your eyes at her, more rejection, more laughter and taunts from Viv and Bruce.

3rd times the charm is the saying, yet not everyone is proven to be successful, Jenna was one of them, it was irking her and getting under her skin that she couldn’t bag you, but no matter how much you frustrated her, she would never admit she wants you, she’d lay a blanket over her feelings for you, hiding it as she wants you within her reach so she, herself can make you bleed, the same way you did. But maybe she does want that, maybe all she wants is to see you fall, you don’t know who she is, but she seems to know who you are, well, what she could find out about you. But funny enough, her level of power doesn’t get her through to your hidden files. It was redacted, and not even you knew about them.

Number 4 took a different approach, this time she asks Sol for help, begging her to get you to meet her, and as much as Sol wants to, and trust your gut, she wants to, so bad, her loyalty to you was no match for Jenna, Sol turns Jenna away, and to add a cherry on top, you recruited help from a colleague of yours, he was very handsome, and a gentleman, so you two played pretend in front of Jenna’s eyes, arms linked with laughter filling the barely visible gap between the two of you. This fuelled the fire burning in her chest, a feeling she had never felt before, jealousy, and jealousy is a bitch. Jealousy caged Jenna, how could this feeling make the most powerful woman in America bend at her knees, how could you make the most powerful woman in America suffer with every inch of her. You, y/n, you are the indulgence of her soul but the starvation of her heart. Jenna’s first instinct was to hurt you, hurt him, how could he kiss the cheek of her woman? You’re not her woman. Murder was on the table for him, and torment was on yours. Anything to ease her suffering, but she couldn’t, she can’t, as much as she wants to, and as much as she could do it with ease, you breathing was more important.

Maybe day 5 would be different, you thought as the clock hands strike 6pm, and so you were right, instead of being greeted with the ever-greedy Ms. Ortega, you were met with Viv’s warm embrace and Bruce’s masculine yet warm stature.

“Jenna’s getting her right hands to do her dirty work?”

Viv and Bruce share a smile, “as much as we love to see her wallow in doubt and pity, and finally see her humbled, you’re killing her.”

“And how is that any different to when she has a gun to someone’s head?”

“We know, she deserves it, but, for us could you consider not torturing her?”

“Look, you guys seem so nice and a very lovely pair, but I’m only doing this because she won’t stop, and I’m sure doing this would be a lot more efficient than telling her to stop, and honestly, I’m surprised I’m even alive right now.”

“Y/N,” a solemn tone escapes Viv, “she’s not like that, you know.”

“I don’t, I don’t know, and like you heard me say before, how could I let her in if she’s everything I stand against. We are two opposing forces, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you want to know?” Bruce steps in.

“Guys, there are plenty of women out there who wants Jenna.”

“Yeah, but none of them are you.”

“And none of them will be me, I’ll delete the article if it’ll help, but I’m sure everyone has their copies, I’m sorry, I didn’t want it to be like this, I didn’t want to attend the ball.”

“No, it’s okay, don’t apologise, we’re sorry it had to be like this, but we’ll leave you be, we’ll talk to Jenna.”

“Thank you,” giving Viv a warm hug, possibly being the last hug, you’ll ever give her and Bruce a kiss on the cheek, more than you’ve given Jenna.

As you leave, Viv turns to Bruce “oh someone is so getting hurt at tonight’s mission.”

He chuckles, “you know how she copes.”

~~

Finally, a chance to breathe and relax, you were out shopping, giving yourself a self-care day filled with everything you needed after the stressful week you just had. Sol wanted to accompany you, hoping to cheer you up, but you reassured her you’ll be fine and that this was something you had to do on your own. Walking past the dress boutiques, a dress similar to your masquerade dress catches your eyes and you can’t help but stop and admire it, but truthfully, the dress reminded you of her, of Jenna, you hate to admit it but there was some part of you that missed her adamant tries at winning you over.

“It’s pretty dress, but nothing compares to what you wore that night.” A voice you know all too well.

“Jenna…” A sigh of defeat leaves your lips.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, I just had to see you, y/n.”

“Are you stalking me now?” Genuine question.

“No, no, I was out shopping, well, yes, I had to shop but I knew you frequent here so I took a chance.”

You let out a soft giggle, “I’m not even going to question how you know that but okay, you have me.”

“If I had you, we wouldn’t be here.”

You smile, not knowing what to say, your heart almost breaks for her, you’ve never seen her raw like this, almost as if you make her vulnerable.

“Look, I just want to say I’m sorry, for everything, for every arrogant remark, for every uncomfortable situation I put you in, for playing games with you, for sending Viv and Bruce to do my dirty work, for wanting you, y/n.”

“Jenna,” you grab her hand and caress it, hoping it relieves some of her pain, and maybe now your brain will believe she’s being genuine, and as much as your heart wanted to hold her, you know you can’t. “It takes a lot to apologise, so thank you.”

“It’s no problem, but uh, I know I shouldn’t, but I’d hate myself if I didn’t take this chance, maybe I could take you out to dinner? Apology dinner, on me.”

“Heh, that’s sweet of you to offer, but I’m sorry, I can’t, take Viv and Bruce out for me instead.” You smile at her, trying so hard not to tear up, feeling that choking feeling build up in your throat.

“Do you hate me?” That same question, she asked you that very first night.

“Again?”

“Y/N, tell me you hate me, it’ll make getting over you a whole lot easier, knowing you hate me is a better outcome than knowing you don’t, because if you don’t, my chance of you, my chance of us was out there, but my hands were not strong enough to grasp it, maybe I made the wrong deal with the universe, I don’t want to live a life where we could’ve been, just tell me that you hate me, please, y/n, please.”

If your heart didn’t break before, your heart definitely broke now, this was her, this was Jenna, raw and vulnerable, you wanted to speak, but it seems there was a stronger force out there that withheld you from speaking, instead, you lay your soft hand on her cheek, wiping away a lone tear, so close to Jenna’s lips you could feel her breathing. As she closes her eyes and leans in ever so slightly, you let go, leaving her with a maybe.

Too broken to look at you, Jenna offers “at least let me take you home, it’s getting dark, I know you didn’t drive here, and I know how dangerous the streets can be at this time.”

“I’ll be okay, Jen.”

Maybe it was the right choice, maybe your actions will have consequences.

~~

Too lost in your own world, thinking about what happened between you and Jenna, you don’t notice the looming figure behind you, Jenna occupying you so deeply, you didn’t realise they’ve been following you since you left the mall. Lucky for you, walking past a closed shop with windows out the front, you’re able to see a dark figure behind you, you quickly decipher the figure being a man, but his face is covered so you don’t recognise him. As your heartbeat quickens, so do your steps, actively trying to lose him, you take a sharp turn into an alley, bad mistake. A breath of relief and fatigue exists your lungs as you turn and see he’s not behind you anymore. But.

“Think you could get away from me that easily?” The man appears in front of you, making you jump, but leaving you stuck in place, too scared to run. As you scan his face, your heart sinks, making the connection that this is the same man from the ball, the same one who was harassing you, but Jenna had him thrown out.

“Yeah, now that pretty face remembers me.”

“Please, just let me go, I’ll give you money, is that what you want?”

He scoffs, grabbing your wrist so tight, he may be cutting off circulation. “I don’t care about money, they pay me enough, what I want is you, I want you to hurt.” Suddenly, a sharp sting numbs your face as he slaps you with all his might, knocking you off your feet, you scream.

“That’s right, scream, bitch.” Kicking you in the abdomen, making you give into his wants, screaming more.

“Please.”

“No point in begging now.” He kicks twice more before picking you up by your shirt, you too much in pain to even look at him in the eyes, but the pain would keep going, he holds you up against the brick wall and starts going in for punches, left and right, your nose starts bleeding, you’re sure your ribs are broken, every punch, slap and kick was multiplied by 10, he kept on going, no matter how much you screamed, he didn’t listen.

“Where’s Jenna now? That’s right, she’s not here, can’t go running to her for help.” He was right, you can’t go running for help, you couldn’t, maybe you should’ve gone with her, maybe you should’ve never pushed her away, tears run down your face joining the splatters of your blood on the concrete ground. He starts thrashing you around, making sure every part of you is bloodied, broken, and bruised. “Scream her name, I want her to know you screamed for her, but she was nowhere to be found.”

You were sure you were going to pass out, instead flashing lights come by, there was hope, but that was short lived when you realise it was a large SUV instead of a police car.

“JAMESON, what do you think you’re doing.”

“Sir, I did what you told me.”

“I told you to scare her, not beat her to a pulp.”

“I got carried away.”

“Evidently, I ought to give you to Jenna for this.”

“But she’s your rival, sir?”

“Yeah, but you beat her girl up to a pulp, I don’t need her coming for me just yet, and plus, she’s the key to breaking down Jenna’s walls, making her vulnerable, seeing that you nearly killed the key, you nearly ruined it for us.”

“I apologise Mr. Marcello.”

“Mr. Marcello is my father and uncle, you know better.”

“I’m sorry, Gio.”

“Now, I gotta clean up your mess, hop in the car, killing you now would be a mercy compared to what Ms. Ortega would do to you, oh and drag her in the car.”

“Yes sir, are you going to give me to Jenna?”

“Considering it, if you don’t shut up, it’ll be a yes,” now turning to you, your barely functioning body with a tremendous number of cuts, scrapes, and bruises, “you Ms. L/N are fascinating, who are you and why do you have Ms. Ortega wrapped around your little finger.” Your eyes lacked the ability to focus, and your mind was fighting to stay awake, and you barely heard the conversation between the two men, so it made it hard to figure out who was with you, staying alive was the one thing on your mind. And in this moment, the scariest moment of your life, you doubted life would be in you, once he lays you on the seats, your fight with your mind was over, you pass out, not knowing where they were taking you.

~~

As your eyes focus on what was in front of you, the familiar rooted buildings jumpstarted adrenaline, with indomitable human spirit and a bit of delusion, you somehow make it to the entrance of Ortega Towers. As you collapse the second you drag yourself through the doors, you hear Viv scream.

“Y/N?!! OH MY GOD.”

She rushes towards you cradling you in her arms, begging you to stay awake, to stay with her.

“YOU, GO GET JENNA NOW.” She yells at a young associate.

“But she said she doesn’t want to be disturbed.” He was scared to go up to Jenna and let her know of the situation, fair enough, she’s a scary woman and even scarier to the newbies.

“I DON’T CARE, I’LL TAKE THE HEAT, TELL HER Y/N IS HURT.” He rushes off with speed and not even 3 minutes later, Jenna came running down, you hear her yell something, but your body was on lockdown mode, nothing was working, nothing was focusing. All you know is that you’re in pain.

As Jenna takes over for Viv, so Viv can get medical help, she cradles you. “Hey, hey, y/n, stay with me, okay? Stay with me, please.” She strokes your hair, trying so hard to not let the tears fall, you couldn’t see her like this. No one can. Luckily, Bruce and his crew of soldiers was able to escort everyone out.

You want to, you want to keep your eyes open, but your body was winning this round, and if this is where you’ll die, at least you were in the arms of Jenna. With all your might, you muster up to speak once more.

“I hate you, Jenna.”

“I know.”

~~ 

Thank you so much for your support <3 I hope you enjoyed! 🦦

hehe sorry about the angst, I think this is one of the most angstsiest shit i’ve ever written, and shout out to @lonelym00n cus she had to endure getting tortured as r and getting tortured as herself 😭 (she’s viv). 

it is 5am where im at, im going to sleep, goodnight 🤝

TAGLIST: @somegaybae @omega-horus @lonelym00n @dksjskx @lazyturtle0-0 @jess-1-e @zaclewiss @lostgirl1415 @pitifulbinx @talialeih @amessbian @iamthewoe @aiakuma @user173781 @darkwolf1623 @dvrkhcld

[drippingmoon]

Merry new year to everyone, again! 🥳💞🥂

I know it wasn’t an event this year, but writing a yearly wrap-up is really therapeutic, you know? So I decided to continue the tradition, and if anyone wants to join me, absolutely view this as an open invitation^^ Introduction is over, and now let’s see what 2023 looked like:

(spoilers: I adored it. I'm also probably going to make this my fixed post, in case anyone ever wants to catch up with me. And also because my second baby, AoS, is growing, and it doesn't have an intro, but I can't leave it out.)

Stats

Aquiver, Aglow: 181k (draft 4) + 195k (draft 5) + hmm, draft 6 is an outlier, because I didn’t rewrite from scratch, so I’m unsure of the written word count. I didn’t change much from draft 5, so I’d say an extra 15-20k. Total word count: 376k+

Remains of a Night: 120k 

Aberration of Sunlight: 134k

This was definitely my most productive year to date. And I got so hungry: the more I wrote, the more I just wanted to keep writing, and honestly? I’m proudest of myself for literally carving writing time whenever I got a spot into my schedule. Mostly it was from 8pm-11pm, but I had a mad run where my only free window was from 1am till I literally felt I was dying… I’ll talk about that separately🤣🤣👌

Though, I'm seriously understating it.

Like a lot of other people, I would have all these hours when I was younger when I didn't have anything to do, yet I'd still find some excuse not to write. "I'm waiting for the right time." "I'm anxious I'm not going to get it right." "Tomorrow! Tomorrow I can start right from the morning, and I'll have more time to write, yeah?" or "I'm too tired now, it's late..." and so the snowball rolled down and downhill and I found every reason under the sun not to write, now that I think about it. Sigh. So much time wasted. But I can't regret it either, because I needed those baby steps at that time.

And now! Now I do what I thought I'd never learn to: I prioritize, and I actually organize my daily stuff so it's not so impossible anymore to have a little bit of writing time. I don't take it for granted either. It feels like such character growth for me, I'm immensely proud of it.

And for the record? This year was a huge improvement over yesteryear mentally, too. It turns out, what I needed to get over my word count anxiety… was to be faced with people who literally didn’t give a fuck about it, and just cared about the story. One of the most unexpected things beta stage managed to do to me… was to quench all my anxieties. It’s as simple as that. I read and enjoy very long books. People also do that. So, I’m very happy to say I’m no longer in a tizzy about ‘quiv. It might kill my chances for trad publishing, it might not. I’ll be happy come what may.

Because it’s so simple how working on ‘quiv or thinking about it makes me joyous, and now I can just enjoy that freely. I will miss writing this story so much. I really will. But at least I’ll have it forever to reread, and I hope this thought brings comfort to everyone who also has problems letting go, like it does to me.

Let’s break it down a little, shall we?🤩

Aquiver, Aglow◇◇◇

My little star of the hour. How fond I am of it.

Like you could glean from above, ‘quiv went through three drafts this year. More specifically: in the first part of the year, practically almost as soon as February arrived. I knew it was getting closer to the final version, and gave me the push to finish all three back to back. I couldn’t justify anymore the bazillion AUs I do with rewrites (basically, WHAT IFs from events, WHAT IF it went this different way, WHAT IF Tyrone actually said this here… and so on and so forth. I wanted to test out as many pathways as possible, and did I exhaust every one of them in existence? Definitely not. I don’t think that can happen, you just keep getting new ideas. On and on. What happened, instead, is that these couple different pathways, at some point, cemented themselves as canon in my mind. I didn’t want to tease myself with alternatives anymore, and that’s when I knew they would be it. Some bits from the first draft, some from the third, some from the second. Some were even draft 6 originals!

It’s a bit of a weird process. I definitely didn’t need to reach draft 3, and meet Mezusa, because I could’ve feasibly made it work with just Yles in the story. It still would’ve made sense, though in a different way. But if I hadn’t… I might’ve missed one of the best characters I’ll ever probably have created, and the story (and Yles) is much stronger for her, if you ask me. 

For that matter, yes, full rewrites every single draft might take a lot of time and effort, but honestly I don’t think I’d ever change my writing process (save for the moments of frustration when I think I will lol) because of the sheer satisfaction of it. Whoever said so long never to settle on the first version, I owe you a beer and probably some curses as well lmao, but very lovingly. You shaped my writing life.

I don’t have much else to share about ‘quiv, other than it’s off with my beta readers my beloved, and maybe a tentative promise that, if anyone wants, you’ll be able to read this precious ball of hope of mine relatively soon. This story is so gentle to me. And as much as I loved to write and work on it, I dearly hope that whoever decides to give it a go, is treated just the same. That’s the only wish I have.

I also don’t know if I’ll go trad or self-published. Instincts say trad, because I fuckin’ suck at marketing (fact), and I know I’d grow resentful if I’d have to put so many hours into advertising when I know I could instead… write. I’m a writer. That’s the only thing I know how to do. Trad, however, might not be as kind on a ~200k as life’s been, so I might not have a choice. If it comes down to that… I’ll just treat it as I do everything. I don't love this story any less if I just write, publish without a fuss, hope that maybe, just maybe, a reader or two will stumble upon the story and we could talk. Maybe we can have the fun of our lives, create some genuine connection. I know that’s applies to a lot of writers. I hope we can accomplish it.

And so, I’ll finish this section of the wrap-up with a kiss to my ‘quiv, for all the warmth it’s ever brought me. It’s come so far, I know it can live distinct from me from now on. It brings me great comfort. And I look forward to the times I’ll reread it, and we can relive our best experiences together. Never thought I’d get to this point. Thank you, ‘quiv.

Remains of a Night♤♤♤

Mwhahaha! And because ‘quiv took all the pressure, this left AoS to be an extremely fun and spirited experience. Literally the chillest I’ve ever been writing. In many ways, it’s more my thing than I expected ‘quiv to be: I get to murder characters left and right, it’s more plot-heavy and banking on the tension created by a creature that horrifies the characters down to their marrow, but still the only way to defeat it is to know it better, which, uh, might have unpleasant consequences for them. It’s got chase and stealth scenes, and it always shoots me with adrenaline to think about them. In short, exactly my jam.

It’s not a new book, nope. You knew it before as Aberration of Sunlight, but from the get-go I felt it would be bigger than ‘quiv. Very fortunately for me, I had a place where to break it, and behold: there’s RoaN (book 1), and AoS (book 2). There might be a third book, which I dearly hope not because titling sucks, but it depends on the Sycamine arc. More on that in AoS.

One last thing to note, before we delve into the story (hoo-ray for earlier drafts, because I can talk more frankly about them). This is the culprit of my 1am writing adventures!!😫❤ My schedule became too packed, then NaNo came round and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to honor how AoS began, because it was last year’s NaNo, aaand I’m happy to say I won NaNo, somehow, with 56k down before I died. At that time, I only had one section left to write (from both books), otherwise, hahahaha, yeah, it wouldn’t have flown. Still, most of draft 2 I’d written in September-October, with my fairy lights, late nights, and cups of hot cocoa, exactly like how life should be<3

Alright. We’re going through them chapter-by-chapter again, exactly because I love seeing the titles so much:

ACT 1

Cracked Visor, Scorpion Grass

I did it! I did! Twas another shower thought I managed to get down in time. Bare broken sentences, but they did the impossible, and arranged this chapter into a structure I adore to bits and won't ever change. (And 'quiv's naughty voice left me alone for once and I could write it properly!) While I don't think I'll ever be happy with a first chapter (not as a concept, but the writing — part of me will always wish that the reader just had all the information already lol), this one is in the right place.

It pays its respects to the story of the broken helmet at the foot of a spaceship, and how it reconnects Madigan with all the people who'd suffered from being tethered to the planets when they yearned to fly, but the Beast punished them cruelly for it. It makes him feel phantoms of their efforts. The tone is exactly what I needed this story to start from: melancholy and numbly hopeless, against the backdrop of the Beasts's echoed cries.

Rain Through the Universe

Unlike 'quiv, because RoaN and AoS are way more plot-heavy, it's not as easy to change things willy-nilly (whereas 'quiv was all about character bonds and dynamics). As such, it's very similar to draft 1. Because of that, I'll frankendraft next (select and combine drafts 1 and 2, rewrite to connect them) and afterwards I'll try something I've always wanted to. (Scrivener keeps hinting at it!) I'm gonna split the chapters into scenes, and focus on those individually and how I can just rewrite them and set their purpose in stone<3 I'm excited!

As for the chapter itself, gods, I love the atmosphere. Just the wreckage of a sundered ship, and Madigan’s sudden madman appearance making a lasting impression on Spica, because how could it not. They no longer answer distress calls in that age, it just means more dead bodies. In fact, they're forbidden to. Madigan instead brings him what he himself lacks: hope. And a lot of crawling around while dreading the Beast's lambent eye opening, and oh my, the moments are really flying by😈👏 extreme fun for me as the writer.

Aberration of Light

If you remember, the books follow two timelines, which will connect at some point. The first and main one is Madigan and Spica’s story. The other is Holloway’s, in the distant past of that universe, and who’s been dubbed the most selfish man in existence. That’s important, because of how the Beast came to be. But that becomes important later. For now, a weird-ass new recruit has joined the ship, and the witchy crew will very soon start making bets if she’s the Beast in human flesh, which really wouldn’t bode well for their future.

Night Falls On Their Reflection

Draft 2 became Spica’s draft. It was high time. He didn't exist in the original idea beyond chapter 2, but he refused to die with his story untold. And now he's one of the most independent thinkers I've ever written. Now he's Madigan's son (yes, even at 25), best friend, back-to-back partner all in one, and I could watch the trust and mutual respect between these two forever. To be sure: Madigan comes up with the dumbass plans, and Spica's only too happy to follow him through everything (it is good fun.)

He's repaying the incredible kindness Madigan's shown him when answering his distress call, after all.

But it goes a bit further than that, doesn't it? Madigan is used to watching over myriad people. He's the Superintendent of his planet, and while he genuinely loves people, kindness is his default. It doesn't go further than that for him. He doesn't necessarily think people need, much less desire his presence there beyond Madigan extending help, and most of the time, he's content with that. Kindness does make him happy. And it should be the same with Spica now, shouldn't it? He's kind, but he's not Spica's family, nor ever will be. Yet he immediately feels a connection with the boy, that has nothing to do with bonding over escaping-a-cosmic-disaster. And so does Spica.

This is the moment when Madigan starts feeling guilty, for stepping where he should not. But here's the beauty of Spica's character: he's nothing if not dead sure of his own feelings, and what he sees with his eyes. It's okay if Madigan keeps unexpectedly taking steps back. For very long, there'd been nobody to support Spica's beliefs. So he does the same, as when he followed his heart to go into dead space: he believes in himself and Madigan, and that their paths aren't meant to diverge. They mean too much to each other for that to ever happen.

(In short, and legend says you can still hear me screeching about these two ten thousand years later, I love these two so much, and especially the parallels between Spica going alone into outer space and loving Madigan.)

(And, okay, obviously all these developments don't happen in a single chapter, but I couldn't stop gushing🤭🥰.)

Who Puts These Tombs in Ice

Overall, I think draft 2’s Luitgart performed worse than draft 1. Mainly it's the setting I want to revert (still an icy, sempiternally dark hell, but with different ice constructions) because some of the beats are a huge improvement, and again, I gotta combine the two. Otherwise, I’m still as obsessed about the Luitgart arc as I’ve ever been, and huge thanks to it for being so strong it could function as an ending of its own, allowing me to split the book.

Gettin’ into spoilery territory, but I have to un-kill Madigan so many times it leaves me in hysterics. That was what I was supposed to fix this draft. It got worse. Considerably.

(One constant: the chapter being a love letter to Madigan, and how his first answer will always be to help the other, no matter if they deserve it or not<3 and finally, finally, he gets acknowledged for it, and the favor returned.)

ACT 2

Lemon-Dotted Days + Remnant

Two Holloway chapters! I’m actually massively pleased with how they’ve turned out. Last year, I said the main issue was that I had an outline, and that never works for me. So I did what I do best and rewrote everything from scratch, and the result is both uncanny and… unexpected.

Unexpected, because I never in my life thought Holloway’s voice would make me laugh so much. He’s supposed to be unsympathetic, but then you get his interactions with Saintlark (the new crewmate, possibly Beast) where they’re contemplating the harvest of a nebula, and he’s harshly critical of it, which gives Saintlark hope… only to go deadpan One Moment Later: if they’d used the nebula to prolong their lives instead of bolstering the war, they wouldn’t have died like clown idiots. 

And, they could’ve maybe stolen immortality from the nebula. They would've had to share it with him, of course. Or he would've murdered them to get it.

That, my guys, is his personality in a nutshell.

I have a lot of feelings on Holloway now, and most involve me huffing and slapping my forehead while groaning, but oh my gods. Was it ever so fun. And wait, wait, wait. Since I'm talking of humor (apparently a lot of comedy fit into this horror lmfao) I have to show you guys the following section🤣🤣👏:

Corpse Snow

The drifters are set howling on the ice. They share glances, five separate vehicles nodding at each other. Madigan revs up the engine, splitting the air with a jet of steam and vibration.

The last of the marines are climbing into the box. A figure flashes past Madigan’s drifter — and he leans over, teeth grinding because of his ribs, and he does his very best to grab someone by the back of their suit and pull. Workout days were never his strength, though. He only succeeds in stopping them in the frost smoke.

It’s Spica dangling from his hand, expressionless.

Lieutenant Hahn instantly seizes on the situation. He throws Madigan a long, withering look. “Whatcha doing, Boss?” he asks softly, about to unhinge his jaw again.

Madigan nudges Spica into the drifter. “Picking up your boy.”

Spica gets the hint and deposits himself into the front seat, glancing from his father to his Superintendent. He seems to give up on whatever’s going on, and makes himself cozy in the frosty spot. And Madigan, of course, pretends not to notice Hahn’s drifter sliding closer.

“And you didn’t consider I might want to have my son with me?”

Madigan looks up and sighs. “Lieutenant, dear Lieutenant,” he starts pleadingly. “Why won’t you show some leniency to a poor, wounded man?”

Hahn’s drifter stops, summoning a breeze across the icy floor that gently rocks the other vehicle. His breathing distorts the comms with static. “And what exactly is my son right now?”

“My trusty navigator,” Madigan answers easily.

“Sir’s emotional walking stick?” Spica pipes in at the same time.

They both look over. Spica’s quietly turned to the navigation, as serene as daylight, seemingly oblivious to how Madigan's expression changes, lightning-fast. He quickly hides it under the guise of a polite mask, as the marines stir and turn their attention on them. They’re snickering.

Lieutenant Hahn throws up his hands, giving up on everything.

This is also the first 30k chapter I’ve ever written. It's everything I've ever wanted to do with ice.

Heart of the Void

The end of the book. Originally, it was the ending section to Corpse Snow, but since it already got so ungodly long, I chipped off that bit and I have to say I’m very happy with how it works as an epilogue! So it ends the frosty, weary journey, and I can’t see the two books as separate yet, but here we bid goodbye to the first.

Aberration of Sunlight♧♧♧

I did the unthinkable and created a fifth arc. This might not seem like much to you, but I was screaming bloody murder you guys😭😭😭. Sigh. It’s so sigh. For so long, AoS consisted of four clear-cut acts, but it was necessary. With the introduction of Sycamine, and making it two books, it was just needed. It’s still one of the worst things I’ve ever done because I was used to four😃💔

(The chapters continue from where RoaN left off – from chapter 10, to 21.)

ACT 3

Retro Spectrum

Sycamine, oh Sycamine. Definitely the break I needed before Days in Darkness. It made for a really neat beginning. It’s calmer, focusing on the knowledge they have on the Beast. It’s also a reflection on Procyon (their main star) and the story of the two straggler dog constellations, and what they'd been running away from. I liked the direction it took. It veered away from the Beast for a bit, so the tension kept expanding in the background. And when it returns, well... maybe they shouldn't have been so eager to see it again🤭.

It suffers from the same syndrome as draft 1’s first chapter… it’s there in the vicinity of the idea, but too much to the left. Not bad for a first attempt. The setting annoys me – I really don't enjoy writing cities, and AoS didn't change that. So, for our next try, I was thinking... maybe we don't need to be on the planet, but up close and veeery personal with it. It's a secret❤.

And, oh gods. I put a moustache-twirling villain in this. And then I couldn’t stop myself from naming some sucker Sweetman Calories. I don’t know what happened to me during those days, but I’m crying🤣🤣🤣.

Toast to the Light

Holloway and Saintlark’s story is slowly coming to an end. Unexpectedly bleaker than draft 1, yet it feels much more sincere. Holloway has a way of saying everything Saintlark needs to hear. No surprise. They did that to themselves.

Dissonant Recognition

Ahhhh, the Madigan-is-slowly-losing-his-grip-on-reality chapter, or maybe he should really stop staring into the suns. One of my favorites<3 Also because it features Moren (!!!) who has a blast staying in the grey morality area, because she doesn’t know if her actions could ever matter, or if she could change anything. Does she just exist? Is she a player or just pawn? Who knows. Besides that, she gets along great with Spica. They form such a teasing duo, the level of mutual respect they felt for each other on sight was a delight to write. My favorite ally of theirs, even if her destiny lies elsewhere.

Night Beneath the Elevator

Best title hands down, dethroning Solgesis. I’m going batshit crazy about the visuals, it's exactly my thing. This half-light slanted over an elevator waiting in a rundown basement to be boarded. And there's something underneath it, and always has been. Something insidiously creeping up and waving its tendril fingers at you as you're just waiting for the fucking thing to ascend. Immaculate, guys, I'm telling you, and I'm cursing my hands because I can't make a wallpaper of this. I want to eat that atmosphere.

Time-sensitive missions, y'all.

And why the heck did nobody inform me I was going to add Command as an actual character and have them talk with Madigan?! That entire convo, made up entirely on the spot but somehow with a direction, made me realize what an idiot I’d been for not doing it sooner. They mean so much to Madigan, after all.

(And Mariya. So much Mariya in these chapters.)

ACT 4

Loop System

Like Who Puts These Tombs in Ice, draft 1 might’ve done it better. Not Spica and Madigan, though, because of the sheer development Spica’s been through and the dynamic he’s managed to form with the crew. It's different from Madigan’s, but similar enough that it’s got Hahn commenting lightly: [Spica’s] picked up quite a few habits from Madigan, hasn’t he? Almost as if they’ve gotten very very close, huh? How about Madigan tell him more?

(I adore writing Hahn.)

Outreach

Another Holloway chapter. Doesn’t have the punch of the kids subplot from draft 1, but this just makes it worse for Saintlark personally, because, this time, the consequences are on her.

Days in Darkness

I knew the moment I first got the idea this would be my favorite chapter. Well, it finally happened in draft 2: when the entire crew is here, this time, and ready for the final countdown, to relive the experience of being trapped in a ship that's disintegrating. No more heroes left behind. I'd been so tired writing this chapter in draft 1, but this time around it was incredible. Everything went up sharply from here, both in terms of events and how on fire I was.

(Maybe less than the gorgon, but I was.)

ACT 5

Echo Terminal

The first of the two log chapters.

I've never written smoother, more visual chapters than in this period. Days in Darkness changed me so much, I was writing day and night by this point and couldn't get enough. Well, I hit my limit in the second half of the very last chapter, but I am beyond satisfied. Even the Beast's metamorphosis took me by storm, because I'd been wondering what the final verbs, the final images, the final design for it was going to be. I didn't expect it to come to me this early, and with such thrill. Those were my very best days of the year, and I toast to them.

(And I knew it was going to be fantastic when Halo's Warthog Run OST started blaring in my head, with as much adrenaline.)

Where, Now? + Solgesis

My beloved. The second and last of the two log chapters, but it’s Noelle Saintlark’s log.

Holloway’s timeline ends here. Or maybe it just gets carried into the future. I thought I’d want to rewrite his parts again, make the plot just a tiny bit more psychedelic and nonsensical because it’s so close to the Beast… but Solgesis put all my fears to rest. Even the formatting and layout is a bit of that special thing I’ve always wanted to try, and it really changes the perspective of the previous chapters. There's a new confession that stands at the heart of Holloway's stories.

Honestly, the only thing that needs urgent working on is the anger at the end of the chapter.

Anger is so hard for me to write sometimes. Not because I don’t connect with it, but because I feel self-conscious writing it. The wildest I felt it was when I tackled 'quiv's chapter 3 and Imera's Turning speech, both in quick succession (before I'd even written draft 1. I'd been taking notes.) Since then... I just thing back to how keenly I'd felt that anger, and I kind of intimidate myself out of it. Kind of like a natural resistence, I quench it from myself. Which is actually hilarious when you think about it. It’s like I’m going I BANISH THEE FROM MY BRAIN because generally, as a person, I dislike feeling and operating on anger. But no worries. I’m going to find a way around it.

Watch me😎.

What Goes Around…

(Now it’s the time for me to start crying some rivers, and, alright, it won’t be visible so I’ll say it: the chapter titles are holding a conversation, guys. They speak to each other. And sometimes it’s both sides of the same coin, like how What Goes Around (comes around) hints here. If you take two chapters, one from the beginning and one from the end (for example 1 and 21) it'll tell you a little secret. Okay, What Goes Around and Rain Through the Universe communicate through their plot, which I can’t spoil but of course it has to do with Madigan and Spica and how they first meet… but there is one title pair that does it best visibly. 

Lemon-Dotted Days and Days in Darkness.

And I hadn’t even planned this. All the parallels I wanted to draw… I feel like they built themselves, guys. They really did, and it makes me so wildly happy I don’t even know how to stop my hands from flailing.

And, with them being 21 chapters, they meet in the middle, on the one unpaired chapter.

Called Toast to the Light.

I friggin’ love everything.

New Sunrise, Forget-Me-Right

Of course, Forget-Me-Right is a play on Scorpion Grass. But it’s also such a gentle name for the chapter, because everything ends here. Lying on their backs, staring out into the universe, and it really, really is over. Just a dark horizon on which stars flare and bloom. And suddenly, that maddened rush to make every sacrifice count, to remember every soul they’ve encountered because the legend says the Beast absorbs you when it kills you – all that suffocating pressure dissipates. Lightness remains. Because they’ve protected each other.

For the first time in my writing journey, blood rushed to my head with such emotion I had to stop writing, which never happens. I had to look up and exclaim, holy fuck. But how could I not, considering how the story ends for the Beast? I am speechless. A lot of gorgeous surprises this draft.

Conclusion□●□

Whew, what a year it's been! As for how 2024 will probably look like, though I don't like making plans: finishing the beta stage for 'quiv, and tackling RoaN and AoS's draft 3. Thaaaat one I'm actually starting on Christmas, when I can (finally!!) reread draft 2 with my mug of hot cocoa (or maybe mulled wine for a change) and, no surprises here, I'm hyper stoked for that<3 <3 <3 I legit can't wait to see where the new draft brings them. I might not have set any expectations for them, but they're vying to keep up with 'quiv and I adore it🤭❤

As for my lovely friends... well, you know by how I spam your tags how much I adore you and wish you happiness forever🤩🥺🥳 I don't know what my activity will look like in the near future, so for now I won't be saying anything, and my semi-hiatus continues. Semi, because you're unforgettable and I crave to see what everyone's been up to and (!!!!) what you've written!

So let's meet in 2024 again, and all the best wishes to you, the reader🥰🥂❤.

[booklover101-0]

Husband! Snape x Wife! Y/N

1258.0 words (start to end of story)

Author's Note: Hey guys, if you read this, tell me how I did, considering that this is my first smut/story I've ever published on Tumblr. Hope you enjoy!

You were at the Yule Ball, with snape. You saw your and saw him looking at you. You felt a bit uncomfortable as he only payed attention to you and not to his date, even while dancing.

You looked at snape, saying, "love.. I dont feel comfortable.. can I have your jacket, please?" He looked at you a bit concerned but agreed. You put his jack on and button it up. You look at your ex who's giving snape the dirty eye and looking at you, scoffing.

You focus your attention on snape and smile, forgetting all about your ex. The song ends and you hug snape, feeling safe in his arms. "Hey love, I'm going to go get some punch, would you like some?" You ask him, looking up to meet his eyes. "Yes please darling, that'd be wonderful." He replies, smiling at you. You kiss his cheek and go to get some of the punch.

You walk over to the punch and grab a cup for both you and snape. You hear someone say your name so you look up and.. it's your ex. You quickly get uncomfortable again and quickly try to hurry up with the punch. "You know, you were such a slut for me. I miss that pussy of yours." He continues to say those horrible things. You walk back to snape with the punch, you're ex following you.

You hand a cup of the juice to snape, your ex still babbling about how much he misses me. "Love.. who's this?" Snape asked you, looking at you with hard eyes. You were about to reply to him but your ex popped in. "I'm her boyfriend, you man whore!"

You continue to look at snape and hand him your cup, anger in your eyes. You calmly turn around and face your ex. You grab his hand and aggressively pull him with you, looking at snape. You signal for him to follow you.

You lead your ex with you outside the castle, snape watching from afar, unsure of what you're going to do with your ex. You slap your ex as hard as you can, making him fall on the ground. You squat down next to him and grab his chin aggressively, making him look at you.

"You stay away from me and my amazing and caring husband. You have NO right to treat me or him like that. If you don't want something more to happen to you, I suggest that you listen and stay the hell away from me and him, got it?" You say to your ex, not letting go of his chin until he replies.

"Y-yes Y/N, I understand.." He says quietly. You get up and walk off towards snape, a warm smile on your face. He hands you you're drink and you drink all of it. "I'm sorry, I got tired of his foolishness and the way he talked to you was the final straw." You tell him, resting your head on his chest.

He smiles and hugs you, wrapping his arms around you. He leans down and kisses your head. "Thank you darling, you didn't have to do that.." Snape says, still having his arms around you. "I believe that you deserve a reward for that, hm?" He then says, his voice low and seductive.

You feel yourself blush and look up at him. He smirks and quickly apparates to his room. Snape picks you up and sits down on the bed. You stand in front of him, slightly blushing as he scans you're body. "Have I told you how beautiful you are, darling?" He says to you, smiling warmly.

"Yes baby, about a billion times today." You say, giggling softly. He chuckles and turns you around. He puts his fingers on the zipper of your dress. "May i?" He asks, his voice low. You nod, feeling yourself get wet.

He carefully unzips your dress and then turns you around to face him. He slides the dress of you shoulders and then down the rest of your body. He smirks softly as he finishes taking off the dress. "Holy.." Snape says, scanning your body again.

You giggle softly. "Oh come on.. youve seen me like this billions of times, baby.." Snape chuckles deeply. "I know love.. but you always seem to absolutely blow my mind. I swear you keep getting more and more beautiful." He says, running his hands down your sides, gently caressing. You giggle again and kiss him.

He gently picks you up and lays you on the bed, kissing you passionately. You kiss him back, just as passionately. You feel yourself get even more wet as the kiss continues. He starts to descend down your body, kissing your neck and collarbone, leaving marks. He starts praising you for being such a good girl for him and how beautiful your body is, no matter what you look like.

He reaches your thighs and starts kissing them, still whispering sweet nothings. He starts to close in on your pussy, making you whimper softly. "Oh.. you like this, don't you love?" He says chuckling deeply, already knowing your answer.

He gently starts to kiss your pussy, whispering about how wet you are and how he can't wait to make you cum all over his face and make you feel good. "Ahhh.. sevvv~" You whimper as he teases your clit with his tongue. He looks up at youz making eye contact as he starts to move his to gue in between your wet folds, smirking.

"S-SeVvvvVV!!~" You moan out loud, your hands quickly finding his hair. He chuckles softly and starts to thrust his tongue in and out of you, sucking on your swollen clit at times. You start to moan his name loudly, making him groan against your pussy.

You feel yourself get close to the edge. "AAaaaahhhhHHHhh~ I'm so c-close.." You whimper out, making him start to make his movements faster. He chuckles as he hears your moans. "Cum for me sweetheart... make a mess all over my face.." He says to you, speeding up his movements.

You quickly fall over the edge, climaxing all over on his tongue. He swallow all of it and licks your pussy clean of any left over juices and cum. He sits up and looks at you with a look of admiration and desire. He gently caresses your hips. "You did so amazing love.. I'm so proud of you.." He says, smiling at you.

You smile weakly and he kisses your forehead, getting up. He goes to the bathroom and gets a warm wet cloth and a new pair of clothes for you. He gently cleans you up and then his face. He helps you put on the clothes he got for you. He goes and changes as well, coming back with some of your favorite tea.

You sit up and he hands it to you, smiling. You drink your tea and thank him. "Thank you baby.. that and this is amazing. I love you so much." You say to him, smiling. You finish your tea and set the cup down on the nightstand.

He gets in bed and lays down, gently pulling you with him. "I love you too darling, so so much.." He replies to your kissing your lips softly. You smile and kiss him back. He holds you close, cuddling you as he has one hand on your lower back and the other on the back of your head, for support. You guys fall asleep in eachothers arms, peacefully.

[snaxle]

you didn't even say it back. kys, i mean. i sent you such a thoughtful letter and all you do is malign me as a fanfic writer, who, even worse, can't even finish her wips. horrible. it wasn't a terrible guess given the demographics of your blog (or so i would conjecture based on halfhearted extrapolation based on crumbs of information absorbed counter to my will through social osmosis here) and the fandom inclinations of tumblrinas at large, though this is a cross i do not personally bear.

the charge levied against me by one commenter, namely that "[you] live rent free in [my] head" is false. a sizable proportion of your followers/mutuals/orbiters presumably are constituted of writers who don't finish their works (many such cases) as well the readers who are subjected to those half finished fictions and therefore cannot concieve of someone who looked at a couple posts, wrinkled their nose in distaste, and cranked out a "drabble" or whatever, closed the tab, and went about their day is out of the realm of imagination of the archetypal tumblrite, weighed down by a dozen half actualised ideas, splotchy faced and writhing around and waving their teensy fat fingered hands, shrieking and grabbing out to be given care and attention and to be nurtured so that they may mature into a finished work.

you may ask me what i am doing here if when i showcase such scorn for the character of the average tumblr user and the answer simply is 1) i don't care i just sound like this as a fixed state of being & 2) im like jane goodall if she was kind of a dick to the chimpanzees sometimes and if she was kind of stupid and insane and wrote screeds to one piece fans online.

becoming a one piece fan is an outstanding suicide prevention measure because it's just one final thing on the list to do forever. so im not really anticipating for any harm to personally visit you, nor do i have any personal stake in your demise or success but instead want for the environment of the internet to be slowly poisoned; first in small, enclosed environments like lonesome, neglected, and dying fish in places as toxic as a never cleaned fishbowl and then maybe, in some rosy dreams of mine, the sea dries up entirely and every whale is beached and terrifying krakens of the sea are brought to light crying and gasping and drying out in the sun and lethal pathogens unleashed when the artic permafrost melts and then evaporates and the sun beats down on all the sea creatures of the world, and bakes them, and the hole where the mariana trench once was reeks of rot for years on end. i wish people could be awful to each other, so so so badly. and you're a perfectly serviceable target, but so am i. i hate you, won't you hate me? why can't all the sisters and the brothers of the earth unlink arms in conjoint discord? if only.

and yet you don't see this vision at all, or don't value it. all this is heaped on you but you toss it aside without regard for the feelings and yearnings of the only anon you've ever received of substance. i wrap my undersized cold black ink secreting heart in some papers for you, crumble it into a ball and hand it to you, and you tag it as suicide bait without even doing suicide baiting of your own. tell me youve had an anon that has devoted 20 minutes to writing you before. repulsive. if it be your will for this to make it to publishing i would like to let the reader know that i would not recommend visiting to future hate anons.

[thewriterowl]

I saw your tags on your Luke Skywalker post and you’re 100% right that he made the right choice in TBOBF!! I was totally astounded by how many people were angry at him in this show and believe it ‘ruined his character’. And for what? Letting Grogu choose his own fate? He was probably the only person in the entire Mando series to give him the ability to have a say in his own life. Ugh, I swear these people just don’t even like Luke’s character. Sorry for dumping this vent on you, I just saw your post and I’m glad someone else agrees with me <3

Thank you!! More stuff to fanatically rant about cause I have THOUGHTS. This and what he did to Kylo are stuff I’m biting at the bit to defend.

Now, ok, I can agree the execution of it was not the best. They cut corners because they used too much money in his face rather than giving us a new actor so we could have more screen time. Had they given Luke more screen time for that final scene to be longer it would’ve been better. Disney is still not treating Luke right by any means and I just wanna grab him and wrap him up in a blanket and publish my own book on him.

That being said…

Luke was in the right. No, he wasn’t saying Grogu shouldn’t love his father. Again (and again and again) attachment is NOT relationships of any kind. It’s NOT love. How people still feel like that’s what Luke and the Jedi meant boggles my mind. Attachment is possessiveness and the lie of love. It’s a poison. Grogu had some of that and it was shown in season 1 when he tried to choke Cara out. He’s a toddler with power that can corrupt if not carefully guided.

Luke asked Grogu to unlock his memories and Grogu consented. Luke asked Grogu to choose the Jedi life now (and with his age may not ever see his father again; cause Din himself wasn’t coming back thanks to AHSOKA not Luke—funny how only he’s blamed when he clearly gave Din coordinates) or go back to his father now able to defend himself and Grogu thought about the choice and accepted what it could mean thanks to Luke’s guidance.

Honestly, with Luke’s affinity for love and his past with his father, I could’ve seen him urge Grogu to go back to Din (and maybe he did we just didn’t get to see it, friggen Disney) if not for the fact Grogu needs to learn to make hard decisions. He knows he has Luke and knows he has Din no matter what but he needs to learn to face the anxiety and consequences in the galaxy he’s living in.

You are 100% in how much freedom and respect Luke gives Grogu (is it maybe too much for what is about a toddler+? Maybe! Positives can turn to negatives in teaching and parenting and no one is perfect—-including Din) and is the one who really gives him back his inner strength and confidence.

Luke had Grogu for what? Two or three years? (SW really needs to work on providing us clear time jumps)The two were close. They clearly cared for each other. Luke let Grogu go after the choice was made. Grogu learned from that. He saw Luke be selfless and let him decide his path, even if it may keep them apart but there is the hope they will find each other again (IT SHOULD! God I want coparenting Dinluke). Luke is not turning his back to Grogu. Grogu can reach out and/or return at any time and Luke will answer.

So yes, Luke was right.

[canirove]

Broken Hearts Football Club | Chapter 28

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Masterlist

"They are literal scum. Posting this article the morning of our most important game so far? Disgusting" Leah said, leaving her phone on the table and laying on the bed next to June.

"Didn't expect anything less from them" she sighed.

"How are you?" 

"Honestly? I don't know. They've published stuff about my relationships before, but…"

"But they've never done it about a relationship you truly care about. One that matters, one that you want, one with someone you love" Leah said.

"Yeah" June sighed again.

They had been caught. Someone had recognized her and Ben on their date at McDonald's, taking photos of them and sending them to the English press. And there was no way they could deny what was going on.

They had photos of them waiting to order, June's arms wrapped around Ben's neck while they kissed and laughed. They had photos of them eating together, smiling at each other. And they had photos of them leaving the restaurant, of Ben squeezing her butt and then hugging her and kissing her. That was couple behaviour, and it was impossible to deny it.

"What has your family said?"

"My dad said that now he understood why I had been looking so happy lately, and my mum that Ben is the most handsome young man she has ever seen and that she is gonna have the most beautiful grandchildren ever."

"No pressure there" Leah chuckled. "So they are ok with your relationship?"

"They are. They said that as long as I am happy, they are happy too."

"What about John?"

"He just worries about me wanting to run away and send to hell the best thing that has happened to me in ages and that isn't related to my career."

"But you aren't running away, are you?"

"The thought crossed my mind when I first saw the article" June said, biting her lip. "But, no, I'm not going anywhere. I… I love Ben. And I'm gonna fight for him. For us."

"Aww, Maxwell!" Leah said, hugging her friend. "You've said it aloud! Finally! I'm so proud of you."

"Yeah, whatever."

"No, this is not whatever, June. This is huge coming from you. This means you've healed, that your heart isn't broken anymore. Though it won't be 100% healed until you tell Chilly how you feel."

"He knows how I feel."

"But you haven't actually told him, have you?"

"Not really, no."

"Then maybe this is the moment to do it, you know? Now that everyone knows about your relationship, this may be the moment to tell him and reassure him that you aren't going anywhere."

"Maybe. But I don't know how to say it."

"It's just three words, Maxwell" Leah laughed.

"Yes, but the three most important words ever."

"I guess… Have you spoken with him yet?"

"We texted earlier after the article was published. He asked me if I was ok and about how my family had taken the news."

"What about his family?"

"His mum was like, oh, this is old news. I've known since I saw her at the hospital."

"She always was a clever woman" Leah chuckled. "Did you talk about anything else? Are you going to publish something on Instagram confirming it?"

"Nah. We agreed that what matters now is tonight's game, that I should focus on that and on showing those idiots who June Maxwell is, that their shit doesn't affect her." 

"So you basically agreed on bringing back the June who likes to shut mouths with goals."

"Ben's favourite, yes" June chuckled. 

"I like her a lot too. Though not as much as he does. Tough love he called it, right?"

"Yeah" she said, remembering everything that happened since that confession, how she and Ben had gone from not being able to stand the other and constantly arguing to… to being in love with each other and happier than ever.

"You know you have us all by your side right? The whole team" Leah said, taking June's hand in hers.

"I know, Williamson. Thank you" she smiled.

"Great. Then let's go kick some asses" Leah said, getting up from the bed with a quick jump. "I feel bad for those poor Chinese girls but… This is how it works. Are you ready, Maxwell?"

"Yes captain, my captain" June laughed, getting up from the bed and joining her.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"What an extraordinary game of football" Andrew said. 

"Definitely the best we've seen in this tournament so far" Jacob added.

"The way the girls played tonight has been just… Perfection. Look at those stats!"

"And they could have been even better if Sarina hadn't made all those changes after the 5th goal."

"And what a goal that last one was. What do you think, Chilly?" Andrew asked him.

"I think that it probably is the best goal of Lauren's career to the date."

"Agree" Jacob nodded. 

"If you watch it since the moment the ball leaves Earp's foot, it just gets better and better."

"And when it gets to Maxwell… That pass was simply brilliant! And the way James controls the ball and kicks… Urgh, I love it."

"Looks like you've fallen in love with a goal, Andrew" Ben chuckled.

"I may have, yes" he laughed.

"Speaking of Maxwell's pass… Didn't it remind you of one of yours, Chilly? The one against United."

"It was similar, but hers is ten times better. She is a much better football player than I ever was or would have ever been" Ben smiled.

"Completely unbiased comment here" Jacob smirked.

"I'm known for always being unbiased when it comes to Maxwell " Ben shrugged before the three of them started to laugh. "Being serious again, tho… I think the character the girls showed today is worthy of respect. People from the outside tried to make them nervous, to make them fail, and they showed them what they are made of. That they are here to play football and win, and no one is gonna distract them from their goal no matter how hard they try."

"Yes! Our fierce lionesses!" Jacob said, lifting his fist in the air.

"We are very proud of you girls" Andrew said.

"All of you" Ben added, looking straight into the camera, hoping everyone back home got the message. 

They could publish all the rubbish they wanted. He was sure of his feelings for June and of hers for him even if she hadn't said it just yet. And if there was someone who knew how to fight against people who talked shit, making the best of it, that was June Maxwell. 

[scifrey]

NINE-TENTHS

Twenty-four is one year too young for a quarter-life crisis, but hey, Colin's always been an overachiever. He's got a degree in Sustainable Tourism, which his family says he's wasting as a barista, an annoying anxiety disorder, and no freaking idea what to do with his life.

The only thing going his way is the cute coffee shop regular, a homo draconis named Dav (who, in his humanshape, is a total hottie.) Still, it'd be easier if Dav didn't have a habit of accidentally setting things on fire when he's startled. Like the café kitchen.

When Dav breaks draconic taboo and volunteers as a replacement bean-roaster to apologize for the inferno meet-ugly, sparks really fly. Everything's finally happening for Colin, until he learns that hooking up with Dav means that under dragon law, Colin is absorbed into Dav's hoard.

Possession may be nine-tenths of the law, but becoming his boyfriend's property does not make this whole identity crisis thing easier. Especially now that Colin must navigate politics, paparazzi, and legal questions about his personhood. Colin's still angling for his Happily Ever After, but the growing scrutiny on his relationship with Dav threatens their budding romance.

And if he's not careful, Colin's fight for agency may just destroy symbiotic human/dragon relationships worldwide.

🐉☕❤️

A sassy, queer, alternate universe romance from Publishers Weekly's Best Books of 2011 author J.M. Frey. Wrapped in discussions of autonomy and colonialism, Nine-Tenths meets in the middle between Red, White & Royal Blue and the Temeraire series.

🐉☕❤️

Part One

There's this thing in stories called the "inciting incident". 

And mine? It's a goddamn doozy.

It’s the part of the book, right at the start, where the lovers have their meet-cute, the farm boy leaves for the wider world, the Chosen One is attacked by her first evil monster, blah, blah, blah. You know what I mean. It's the place where everything opens up and you have no idea what you're in for—only that it'll be exciting.

I know all about Inciting Incidents because I was going to be a writer.

No, I thought I was going to be a writer. Historical romance, that’s my jam. Dukes, rakes, windblown-gowns, dropped handkerchiefs, cliffside confessions—I am a slut for that stuff. Forget real history (totally flunked ‘We’re-Feeding-You-Colonialist-Narratives-Disguised-As-Education’ 101). Give me made-up kingdoms and far-flung pirates. Give me the fantasy of a happily ever after that lasts beyond ‘the end’. Give coffee and stories, and I am a content boy.

But right before he got sick, in the summer between my first and second year of university, my Dad and I had a serious talk about writing. How much work it is. How long it takes to start paying off. Backup plans.

And then… after, I thought, well, he wasn’t wrong. If life was going to be pointlessly, stupidly, cruelly short, then I should spend my time trying to do something good, right? I switched majors. Science makes sense. Science is logical. Science creates vaccines and saves lives. Science can bring species back from the brink of extinction. Science doesn’t break your heart.

All of this is to say that I can—with complete and utter certainty—point to the exact moment when my life became a trash fire. It was my twenty-fourth birthday, and my big sister Gemma gave me the dumbest, but totally plot-inciting gift: a sunrise alarm clock.

The Incident starts like this, in Mum’s pokey poppies-and-roosters kitchen, with Gemma leaning on the back of my chair: 

"I have a perfectly good alarm clock." I hold up my phone, then let it slap back down onto the plastic tablecloth. "Goes ding when there's stuff."

My sister heaves the kind of sigh only eldest-born siblings make, indulgent and frustrated at the same time. I love making her make that noise. It's hilarious.

"It wakes you up gently," Gem says. "So you’re not cranky."

"I’m not cranky in the mornings."

Everyone laughs. I may have snapped at Stuart this morning when he shook my foot through my childhood bed sheets like an aggressive chihuahua. Okay. So I'm cranky in the mornings.

"I don't see how it's supposed to work." Stu grabs the clock. "How can you see the light if your eyes are closed?"

As the younger brother of twin siblings, I am used to having the toys I’m playing with pulled out of my hands. Instead of trying to snatch it back, I fiddle with the iridescent green bow that was on my present, then stick it to my ear. Mum smirks at my accessory, but otherwise her prim little 'all my babies are home to roost' face stays in place.

I'm the only one of us who went away to school, and stayed away. Gem came back to live with Mum straight after she finished her undergrad, so Mum wouldn't be alone in the house. Stuart never left the city, though he's got his own place now. But that's why I stayed away after I graduated last year. Mum and Gem don't need me, and if I came back, Stu would try to get me to join his crew.

I go weak in the knees for the kind of person jacked enough to pick me up and consensually throw me around. Standing on a roof next to a whole crew of pretty roughs trying to help them replace shingles? That's gonna lead to me swooning and dying of a broken neck. Stu doesn’t want that on his conscience.

Because she's a bossy know-it-all, Gem takes my present from Stu and opens it to show me how it works. She huffs. "You can see sunlight through your eyelids. It just works, okay?"

Stu helps himself to another piece of my birthday cake, licking the icing off his fingers and the serving knife. Mum slaps the hand holding the knife, and Stu flushes up and sets it down. He descends on his third piece like a wolf, but at least now he's watching his manners.

"There's an instruction manual," I point out as Gem tosses the booklet on the table.

"The day you read the instructions," Mum says, "is the day I'll know for sure the fairies really swapped you."

It's an old joke, being the Changeling child. I'm the only one of them with dark hair. The rest of my family are blond as heck.

Mum’s grinning into that little curl in the side of her mouth that holds secrets. Dad always called it Mum's 'Peter Pan Kiss’. He'd wrap his arms around her waist and kiss that corner, and Mum would swat at him for ruining her lipstick.

Thinking about Dad reminds me he's dead.

I hate the swoop-and-stab sensation in my chest that comes with remembering. Especially when there's a moment you want to share, and you turn your head to his chair and start composing the sentence in your head: "Hey, Mum's doing that—" and then you stop.

You stop composing. Stop turning. Stop thinking about sharing. Stop breathing.

Because that chair is empty.

Dad's dead.

And you'll never get the chance to point out the Peter Pan kiss again. Or watch Mum swat him. Or listen to him tease us for falling for Mum's Old World fairy stories. Or hear his stupid har-har-har donkey laugh, thick with his French accent.

It's my birthday. 

He's not here. 

I'll have another birthday, next year, and he won't be there for that one either.

I try to control my breathing, but Mum hears it hitching. I'm already staring at Dad's terrible empty chair, so it's not like I can hide what I'm thinking about. Mum curls her fingers over my knuckles.

"I wish he was here too, mo leanbh," she says softly. 

Stu and Gem go quiet.

"Sucks," I cough out, deciding to give no one the pleasure of watching me actually cry. I'll save it for later, when I'm back in my own apartment. Not because of any kind of 'real men don't' toxic masculinity bullshit, but because I hate the fuss. They take the shit my therapist tells them about being my support network too much to heart.

"More tea, Mummers?" I ask instead.

"Time for something stronger, don't you think?"

Next Part | Read on Wattpad

Trailer Music: "A Thousand Years" by The Piano Guys Cover Art: @seancefemme

[femmmie]

THE ISLAND

Here is the first chapter of my 25k Smosh fanfic. I'm so excited to share it with you 💓 I will post a new chapter every day until the story is over. If you rather read it all in one go, that's okay too, it's all up on AO3.

Chapter 1: The campaign

Ian gets interviewed about his run for president of the USA. Amanda, an attractive and sharp reporter, catches his eye. Meanwhile at Defy HQ, someone else's adventure begins...

Chapter word count: 1.194

Rated: I guess general, or teen?

"So, you in fact did NOT have sex with your staff worker's sister?"

"What? Hell no! Why would I even? Okay look, I know it's very exciting for you and every other outlet that asked me this same question. Wow, a presidential candidate is single. But at least be a little classy? Don't go and snoop around my love life."

"Of course, mister Hecox. And what will you do, as president of the United States, to combat the climate disaster?"

"Look, miss Lehan-Canto, I think we both know I'm no expert on the subject. But I've been in talks with research institutes who devote all their time to finding solutions. That's who I listen to now, and I'll continue to listen to them when I'm in office."

"Very good. Thank you for this interview. People.com readers will be happy to hear you care about the future of our beautiful planet."

"Of course I care. Musk and Gates may have left orbit, but I'm sticking to Earth, thank you very much. As president I'll fight every day for our right to exist!"

"One last question..."

"Alright?"

"Then why are you taking money from Defy Media, the consortium spreading propaganda for Big Oil?"

"Ah, I see you've done your homework. But, like, what am I to do? Not take their billions? I need to get my message out to the people, so they know their choices. And, as you well know, that costs a lot of money."

"But doesn't it compromise your integrity?"

"That's for the voters to decide. I think my platform is straight-forward."

"Thank you for your time, mister Hecox."

The room was very bright, with big windows and a high ceiling. It was perfect to take presidential-looking shots to publish along with the article.

Ian Hecox sat down on a modern, green arm-chair.

A tall, young man wearing a bandana took the pictures. "Uh-huh. That's perfect."

With every flash, however, Ian's mind conjured up all kinds of horrible scenarios.

FLASH

His eventual and utterly unavoidable assassination.

FLASH

Or if his adversaries wanted to be sneaky, a 'sudden' and 'unexpected' death.

FLASH

How many minutes would he last as president?

"Mister Hecox," Bandana implored Ian. "You're looking very regal, but maybe a couple of shots of you looking relaxed would help your image of being a, you know, a more approachable guy?"

The reporter stayed around during the shoot. She gave Ian a look, like she knew something about him he himself didn't even know. It was strangely intriguing.

They wrapped up.

"Wow, you have REALLY blue eyes, man," miss Lehan-Canto said, taking Ian aback. "I was trying to ask some tough questions, but I kept getting distracted haha."

"Uh, thanks?" Ian stifled a nervous burp and tried to laugh it off. But the reporter walked up to him, until they stood closely together. She was very tall.

"I promised I wouldn't pry into your love life anymore... But I have to ask. How come you are still single?'

"Haha. I- Well," Ian tried to look anywhere except straight in front of him. "I don't know either. It's not like I haven't tried. It just hasn't worked out before. But truly, miss Lehan-Canto-"

"Please, call me Amanda." Amanda was rubbing Ian's arm with her perfectly manicured nails. It was wildly distracting.

"Okay, Amanda. And please also just call me Ian. Ever since I announced my campaign, I haven't had any time to date, or anything. I'm, I'm sorry. You're very beautiful. Gorgeous even. Ten out of ten. But I, I have to think of the people who put their trust in me to give it my all. To try and finally steer us in the right direction."

Amanda traced Ian's shirt's neckline, a disappointed pout on her face.

"I understand. Well, if you become president-"

"WHEN I become president." Ian gave her the old smolder. It worked, because she giggled. Her smile was white, wide and inviting. The skin around her big, brown eyes crinkled.

"-When- you become president, will you give People.com an exclusive?"

Ian softly put his hands around Amanda's waist and looked her in the eyes. "I promise."

"Very good." Amanda smiled as she turned around and walked away. Before exiting the door, she turned around once more and gave Ian a wink.

~

"Ian, that was very nice and all, but..."

"I know, I know."

Ian’s campaign team had been observing the whole interview from a corner of the large room. Shayne, his advisor, always worried most about optics.

"Do you, really? If that photographer took any footage of you cuddling it up with miss Lehan-Canto, they have blackmail material against you now!"

"Like I give a fuck if people see me flirting with a beautiful woman!"

"People need to know you are focused on your job, Ian."

"That was exactly what I was telling her, Shayne."

"That was what your mouth said, but your eyes and hands told another story," Courtney – Ian’s campaign manager – interrupted, trying to lift the mood.

"Ah, what can I say. I'm a red-blooded, all-American guy. And you two should talk! You guys have each other."

Ian’s campaign team was very close-knit. It was basically him, Shayne and Courtney. They also had a merch team led by Kiana. They’d developed a mutual trust very fast and were goofing off like this most of the time, when they didn’t have to be serious. Shayne turned to face Courtney, putting his hands around their waist, exactly like Ian had just done with Amanda.

"Oh, miss Lehan-Canto, you're so tall and beautiful! Please, will you kiss me?"

"Why, mister Almost-President! Anything for MY Commander in Chief!"

Shayne and Courtney started fake making out, but their body language couldn’t lie. They were really enjoying this.

"Alright, you made your point. Now go back and do your job!"

"Yes, sir."

They got their bags and went outside, down the hill where their vehicle was parked.

The surroundings were beautiful. Subtropical flowers everywhere, old trees and shrubs and a cobbled pathway downward. The heat made it difficult to enjoy the view, though. Wading through the outside was hell these days.

~

The Defy HQ boardroom was not much more than your standard office with a nice view. The table was fancy though, and the chairs just a little more comfortable than those in the rest of the building. One guy stood up, gesticulating while speaking to the rest of the board. They were all men in suits. But the guy just wore a shirt with rolled up sleeves, and glasses which were rimmed at the top.

“You know, in this crazy digital age, presidential campaigns need something to appeal to the younger demo.”

“What are you suggesting, mister Dilford?”

“I’m talking crazy memes and cheeky tweets!” Sweat was seeping down Dave Dilford’s temple. “We have to embed ourselves in pop-culture, swim in it! Or we risk losing to Watcher’s candidate.”

“You’ve got a point there. So, how much do you need?”

“That’s what I’m talking about! Together, we will make the electorate giggle all the way to the ballot box.” Dave walked around the room, fist-bumping every board member.

[damonjuicyscock]

Playlist-Chapter 11: Acquiesce (90s Noel Gallagher X Reader)

Pairing: 90s Noel Gallagher X Reader

Warnings: language, a bit violent (a cricket bat if you know what I mean) a few spelling mistakes, maybe.

Words: 1681 (it's a bit shorter than usual, on purpose ;))

Summary: Oasis are in Rockfield Studios to record their second album. It goes well until Liam fucks up...

A/N: Heya Y'all ! Here's chapter 11 ! I hope you will like it. I chose Acquiesce as the song of the chapter to make it a bit ironic, knowing what happens in the chapter. I won't be publishing next weekend, I won't be at home. I'm going to spend Christmas with some members of my family, and I intend so enjoy this time with them.

Love y'all, have a BEAUTIFUL and SPECIAL Christmas and take care of yourselves !

Enjoy !

“Because we need each other We believe in one another And I know we're going to uncover What's sleepin' in our soul Because we need each other We believe in one another I know we're going to uncover What's sleepin' in our soul What's sleepin' in our soul».

In January 1995, Oasis fired Tony. The man was often fucking up during gigs, so they chose another drummer. That’s where Alan White, or Whitey as we all call him, made its appearance. And even if I was sad for Tony who had become a friend, Whitey was far better than him.

And he would be a great help for the new album. Because everyone, except him and I, was on cocaine or drunk most of the time, and he was really a great drummer.

May 14th 1995-Rockfield Studios:

Here we were in May 1995, in one of the studios that had welcomed good rock bands. Oasis were becoming iconic.

For what would become (What’s the story) Morning Glory?, Noel was constantly composing and writing lyrics until very late. Oasis were recording a song per day. Sometimes, I had to stop Noel for him to rest.

Though we also had good moments, like when we were playing football, when we watched the Blackburn vs Liverpool match, where everyone went crazy, like Liam who was playing with the extinguisher. It was our way of cheering, to have a laugh. Weird, but fun. After the match, Liam went to the pub. It was on May 14th 1995. I perfectly remember it, because this same night, Liam fucked up.

Noel and I were in studio. As per usual, he was writing a song, while I was smoking a joint, drinking a cup of tea and listening to music through the radio. At a moment, the radio broadcast Blur songs with the famous game “Whoever calls first wins tickets for a forthcoming concert.

I hated Girls and boys, Parklife wasn’t bad, but I liked To the end. I imagined myself dancing a slow with Noel. I unconsciously started to hum the melody, and I didn’t feel Noel’s gaze on me until the second chorus of the song and took my headphones off my ears.

What? I asked

Ye’re humming, I can’t concentrate. Even more when it’s a fucking Blur song. He answered

Oh soz. Huh… Don’t think I’m a Blur fan. I just like this one.

Ye’ve got the right to like what ye like. But I’ll start worrying when I’ll hear ye sing Girls and boys.

If it ever happens, kill me please. I said, laughing

Count on me. He chuckled

What’s the song’s name now? I said, indicating his guitar with my head

Champagne Supernova.

I’m all ears.

Noel smiled and played what he already had written.

I don’t know what you mean by “slowly walking down the hall, faster than a cannonball” but I love it.

I don’t know what the fuck it means either, but I think it sounds great.

He put his guitar aside, holding out his arms to me. I put my headphones down, and I approached him and sat on his lap. He wrapped his arms around me before kissing me.

I’m proud of you, you know that? I said

Oh yea? I work hard, me.

Yeah. And I also think you work too much. You better let me take care of you on your birthday.

I’ll let ye do whatever ye want. He answered

And I could even start now… I said, seductively, putting my hand on his crotch

Oh, do it then…

But we didn’t have the time to even start, because Liam was back from the pub and I heard multiple voices, meaning it wasn’t alone.

He entered the room, followed by a man and two girls.

And here’s our kid, the chief and genius of this band.

What the fuck Liam?! Noel said

Uh-oh… I said

I stood up, so did Noel. They started arguing. Noel was furious. Liam wasn’t supposed to bring anyone here. So I approached his guests.

Guys, the party’s over, let’s go out.

They nodded and followed me outside.

I’m soz guys. It’s just that Liam isn’t supposed to bring anyone here. It’s Oasis’s workplace, and the band prefers to keep things private. But don’t worry, you’ll soon have an album to listen to, they work hard for this.

Thank you. We’re sorry, we didn’t know… Liam invited us to come, so we followed. The man said

You couldn’t have known. But here’s a thing for you, if ever cross Liam’s path again and he’s drunk. Don’t follow him. He’s a nice and cool lad but tends to do some bullshit when he downed a few pints. And at least, you’ll avoid Noel’s anger. He’s not angry at you, he loves his fans, but he needs privacy when making an album.

We understand. Thank you for telling us kindly. One of the girls answered

That’s perfectly normal.

They left, and I started walking back to the studio. As I was about to walk past the window, it shattered in front of me, the extinguisher flying through it and landing at my feet, making me scream in surprise.

Me guitar ye fucking knob! Noel shouted

Uh-oh… I said again, this time to myself

I ran back into the studio, trying to make my way through the mess and all the broken stuff, finding the brothers punching each other.

Hey, stop this! I shouted

They didn’t, and Noel grabbed what was close to him: a cricket bat. And just like that, he hit Liam over the head with it. Liam was stunned, and he fainted.

Noel! I yelled

He’s finally off me arse. Come on, let’s go!

Whitey who heard noises entered the room.

What the fuck happened here? He asked

I’ll tell ye, grab the car keys, we’re leaving. Noel said

No we’re not! We have to take Liam to the hospital! I answered, panicked, in front of Liam’s unanimated body

He’ll get over it. Come on before he wakes up, are ye comin’ or not? Noel said

No! Noel, we… we can’t go and leave him like this! You might have hurt him real bad!

I started giving gentle slaps on Liam’s cheek.

Did you hear m… I started

But Noel had left at the moment he heard my no. I heard the car engine start. Liam regained consciousness, and as if he was a fucking cyborg, he got up, and did like his brother. He jumped out the broken window, grabbed a dust bin and threw it at the car that was now leaving.

Ye fuckin’ coward! He yelled

I joined him outside.

Damn right, he’s one. I answered

Liam yelled like a 4-year-old in surprise when he saw me, causing me to yell with him as well.

Fer fuck’s sake, ye scared the shit out of me Y/N, I thought ye left with him.

I was next to you, you dumbass! Didn’t you see me when you woke up in Robocop mode?

No I fucking didn’t. And I’m no fucking Robocop, it’s just adrenaline!

I can believe that! You leapt to your feet and literally sprinted towards the car without a care in the world.

Soz Y/N.

It’s okay. Are you well? I asked, worried for him

Me head hurts.

Come on, let’s put some ice on this head.

*

Here. Put this on your head. I said, handing him a tea towel full of ice cubes

Thank ye. He answered, taking it and putting it on his head

It’s bad enough you don’t have a lot of brain cells, and that cricket bat probably didn’t do you any good.

Ha-ha, very funny Y/N.

To be serious, what has fucking got into you Li’? You knew it would make him furious. Why did you do that?

I wanted to have fun with me fans, me. I’m a man of the people.

I can understand that but bringing them to the studio clearly wasn’t the best idea.

I know.

You should slow down on pints and cocaine Li’. It doesn’t help you. You’re often fucking up because of that. And I’m only telling you because you’re like my little brother. And because Noel clearly isn’t the one who’s going to tell you this.

Ye might be right. Thank ye fer caring Y/N.

It’s okay. Now how about I roll us a joint, we smoke it, and we clean up this mess?

Good idea.

And tomorrow, our kid will hear me. Don’t worry about it.

*

May 15th 1995:

I was having breakfast when I heard a car come closer. I put my cinnamon roll on the table, swallowed what was left of it in my mouth and went outside. Noel and Whitey were back. And the worst thing in all that, is that they acted as if nothing happened. I crossed my arms together and waited for Noel to approach me.

Heya love! He said, coming to kiss me

I slapped him.

You fucking idiot! I yelled at him

OUCH! He answered, his hand on his cheek

Your little brother could have died! What were you thinking?! Happily it’s nothing serious, it’ll only feel like a hangover, but it could have been! Did you think about that Noel?!

Listen, I’m soz okay ? But he broke me guitar and he pissed me off!

And so? Is that a reason to smash a cricket bat on his head and leave like a fucking thief?

Huh… no…

You’re smarter than that Noel, come on! Don’t you ever do something like that ever again, understood? I softened

Yeah, I learned me lesson.

You better.