#your prompt could literally be your muse having a favorite stick

[deanwax]

Writer Interview

Cheers for the tags, @autism-purgatory and @the-golden-comet <3

no-presh tag to @dyrewrites and @winterandwords, lets gooo

About Me

When did you first start writing?

I would've cut my teeth in the Neopets roleplay forums around age 11-12, likely didn't start writing standalone fics until age 18-19.

Are the genres/themes you enjoy reading different from the ones you write?

Not really, but also: I'll read literally anything if it's presented as a graphic novel. It's been a useful way to discover new things, and historical graphic novels have been a gateway drug to documentaries and video essays.

Is there an author (or just a fellow writer!) you want to emulate, or one to whom you’re often compared?

I don't really concern myself with emulation these days, but way back I tried to style a novel heavily on the works of Poppy Z Brite. I was too green to understand how to give a gothic horror a point, and "Wailing" fizzled out with not much more than wallowing in edgy misery. I've still never been able to salvage the plot or characters to this day.

Can you tell me a little about your writing space(s)? (Room, coffee shop, desk, etc.)

In order of frequency: lying on my stomach in bed with a heat pack, at my computer desk, hunched up in the corner of a train, being weirdly intense in the bar of a local theatre. So yeah, I do a lot of writing on my phone.

What’s your most effective way to muster up some muse?

I'm actually in the middle of reckoning with my own limitations caused by a chronic pain condition, so I'm more in the camp of "let the muse come to you". I try to check in often, I'd only to smash out a few more notes or paste in some research.

Did the place(s) you grew up in influence the people and places you write about?

No, except Sucks Down Under which is literally set in early 2000s Australiana. For the most part I'm making stuff up freestyle.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing, and if so, do they surprise you at all?

I didn't think there'd be so much symbolic cannibalism when I started out, but here we are.

My Characters

Would you please tell me about your current favorite character? (Current WIP, past WIP, never used, etc.)

Man. Adam "Flicker" Prescott from Wailing was the OG, man. He was supremely socially awkward and couldn't stick up for himself against his trans friend who was too angry about gender to see how cruel they were being. He could see ghosts. Eventually he got separated from his body entirely and became a spirit trapped in the mind of the vampire who killed him. He deserved better.

Which of your characters do you think you’d be friends with in real life?

Flicker could live in the back of my mind if he wanted. I guess he does.

Which of your characters would you dislike the most if you met them?

Setting aside outright villains, I actually would start to avoid Alistair from Impressions of Aire for long stretches of time if I knew him IRL. He's way too socially outgoing, man. That's not my speed. Small doses only.

Tell me about the process of coming up with of one, all, or any of your characters.

The speed at which I can come up with these dudes is too fast to clearly separate the process onto steps. It helps to have a prompt to get the bones down, like a genre or an event that will happen in the story. Then: nyeeeooowwww.

Do you notice any recurring themes/traits among your characters?

Autism.

What’s your reason for writing?

Also autism. Yes, yes, the joy of creation. But also: I am putting the characters through The Situations with wildly different parameters.

Is there a specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating coming from your readers?

Babe, I write original fiction. Any kind of comment at all is a joyous rarity.

How do you want to be thought of by those who read your work? (For example: as a literary genius, or as a writer who “gets” the human condition; as a talented worldbuilder, as a role model, etc.)

A trickster.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Grounding the actions of the story in some kind of reason, or at least a process that can be observed if not clearly understood.

What have you been frequently told your greatest writing strength is by others?

Knack for words.

How do you feel about your own writing? (Answer in whatever way you interpret this question.)

I have loved everything I have ever written.

If you were the last person on earth and knew your writing would never be read by another human, would you still write?

Yes, so I could read it later.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely what you enjoy? If it’s a mix of the two, which holds the most influence?

Any story where I've tried to inject content that would make it popular has hit wall until I've allowed myself to rework it to be as weird as I truly want it to be.

[meowzfordayz]

Hi T 🤗 I hope you're doing exceptionally well today. I'd like to participate in your Milestone 5.0 KNY drabble event pls. 🥺 👉🏽👈🏽 I think you already know which character I'm choosing 😏

Let's make it sfw, and can it be number 7 on your prompts list pls? Tysm and have a fantastic rest of your day. 😁😇✨️🫶🏽

MILESTONE 5.0

Hii !! ☺️ I'm doing alright — lazy Sunday after outdoor rock climbing for most of Saturday. 🧗🏻‍♀️☀️

... sooo your drabble turned into a one shot. 😅 I actually used my unfinished + unpublished draft of "wildflower" (from my OG MILESTONE 5.0 event) for its beginning, and it evolved from there. 🤪

ANYWHO- Ty for participating !! I hope your weekend was restful, and that your upcoming week goes smoothly. 💙

I said meet me downtown at the dive bar, you’re the only one that makes me feel alive. — Kill My Time

CW: mild sexual content

Giyuu stands, eyes darting—the entrance to your favorite bar a few long strides away—tying and untying his hair. Literally why? strands sticking damply to his neck Could you just, I don’t know, cooperate?! checking his watch 10:28pm Two more minutes to get this shit right retying his hair I guess sixth time’s the charm? as it finally settles gracefully down his back. Well. He hopes it’s graceful, willing himself to not look at his reflection as he passes the bar’s floor to ceiling windows, his pristine, white sneakers contrasting starkly with the grey muddle of pavement. I don’t have time to try again. 

Inhale.

Rolling up and down the sleeves of his aegean hoodie, cotton feeling tighter than usual.

Exhale.

Smoothing the pockets of his slim heather joggers, wishing he’d worn nicer pants.

He knows to pull, not push, the heavy wooden door—he’s made that mistake one too many times—pausing awkwardly at the hostess booth. A cursory glance at the sea of dimly lit tables tells him you haven’t arrived yet, your typical spot unclaimed and unassuming, which means you’re probably-

“On time as always,” an amused voice climbs onto his shoulder, light and assured, goosebumps raising on his forearms.

He grunts. Turns. Does his best to swallow the abrupt coughing fit threatening to overcome him; to stop his eyes from widening in pleasant surprise; to restrain himself from wrapping his arms around you in a too comfortable embrace.

You look, “You hate when I’m late,” beautiful.

Your lips curve gently—Hi—familiar gesture loosening the anxious knot coiling in his gut.

“Because it’s rude,” you snort, “Time is money.”

Time is priceless he inwardly corrects you, mesmerized by how coolly your stare grazes his lungs: by how you look so different, yet still so you. The shade and tangle of your hair, the depth of your eyes, how your skin crinkles and glows. You seem like the you he remembers. You also seem like an entirely new you. Older, wiser, tired; haunting, brilliant, stern. His hands shove self consciously into his pockets, fixated on how effortless and well dressed you are, anxious knot recoiling. If there’s anyone who knows how costly time can be—It’s me—Giyuu realizes.

“You know we can just seat ourselves,” you remark, already walking toward an empty high table—your empty high table—nestled beneath a sepia toned wall scone.

He wonders if you call ahead to make sure it’s available before you arrive; wonders if you know he’d call ahead for you; if you know about the fragments of his heart ingrained in the wooden finish; if you ever admire them, let alone notice them, glinting under the shadow of your oblivion.

Following your lead, he sits tentative and tense, unable to meet the curiosity in your gaze, warm and guarded across from him.

“So what happened?” you tease slowly, fingertips drumming faintly, tabletop sticky with the residue of earlier encounters, “You missed me?”

Some things never change his eyelashes flicker heavily Straightforward entranced by the delicate rhythm of your knuckles Painfully so.

“You’re lucky I felt like going out tonight,” you muse, sharpening, “I was about to brush my teeth,” holding his breath as you drawl, “But how could I ignore you sliding into my DMs?”

“I didn’t know how else to reach you,” he offers weakly.

“I didn’t want to be reached,” by you.

He blinks, treading carefully, “Then why did you reply?”

“Because I felt like going out, but all my friends,” my partner, “Were busy.”

All my friends. Your retort stings, the feeling that you’re hiding something vital not escaping his notice either. Another reminder of time: of time he’d squandered before he could fully comprehend the degree to which you’d etched yourself into his lungs — every breath a placeholder for the lingering heat of your mouth upon his.

“I fucked up.”

You scowl, “You’re pathetic.”

“And you’re here,” he snaps, lips thin with regret.

You flinch, wispy sliver of brightness fading from your stare. He knows you, from the touch of your palm to the twitch in your jaw; the weight of your hatred as you flit in, out, and in. His life. Your revolving door. Constant. As see through as it is unbearable.

“I’ll go,” you hiss, barstool scraping angrily as you move suddenly, “This was a waste of my time.”

He isn’t clueless. He can read between your lines—You are a waste of my time—ringing clear and bitter, inhibition surrendered when it dawns on him: If I let them slip away, then not even fate itself will be able to tie us together anymore.

“You’re the only one that makes me feel alive.”

The velvet drag of your tongue behind his ear, how you’d hold him after loving him, kisses dappled feathery soft from his closed eyelids to the tendons of his wrists. Sometimes, the sheets tangled twice. Occasionally, thrice. And rarely, he got to watch the sun rise upon the angles of your face, sleep claiming the remaining threads of your attention.

“And how about me?” you scoff, “Who makes me feel alive?”

Once upon a time, Giyuu would’ve said I do, so certain of the way you’d cup his cheeks, his nose scrunched while your laughter caressed his flushed expression. Once upon a time, he would’ve said You? Why, you’re everything to me. And that would’ve been enough. Once upon a time, too much time ago, he didn’t just know you — he’d known how to nurture you. How to love you.

“Somebody else,” he guesses quietly.

“Somebody else,” you repeat firmly, tossing him a pitying glance before walking toward the exit, words uttered too low for him to hear, “But I wish it had been you.”

—

It barely registers as Giyuu looks away, the cold press of finality, engraved into his soul by your conquest — the snipping of red thread.

[writingawaymylife]

Trying to get back into writing - (very) slowly but surely. If you have any characters you want me to write for or a prompt send it over!

Now's the time, as any request I get I'm writing, probably within the five or so days of when I receive it (what about that, writers block? You got nothing on red wine and prompts)

[kpop-cakepops]

I will gladly read any Wonwoo fluff you would give us be it snuggle donation or otherwise! But if I can be more specific in requesting, how about a missed connection sort of thing? Like the reader and Wonwoo have similar circles of friends who think they’d hit it off, but somehow they just never manage to be at the same events, but then they end up meeting separate from their friends and do hit it off, only to be a couple before their friends even know they’ve met? If that’s too specific, totally do whatever you want with the idea. Welcome to Wonwoo brain domination (my friend incepted my mind last year too and it’s been all Wonwoo all of the time since!)

omg this is actually such a good prompt?!?!?!!? What the hell?! Thank you anon!!!

So this one actually took way longer than expected because I knew what I wanted to do but I didn't know how to not make it confusing? So the best I could do was use time skips in this one, anything in italics are flashbacks.... I HOPE IT'S NOT CONFUSING! Anyhow, I had so much fun writing this! Enjoy! (PS. I didn't edit so excuse any grammar mistakes LOLz)

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1,863

Meant To Be// Jeon WonwooXfem!Reader

"There he is again... I wonder if he's single." your older sister said as she struggled to keep your baby nephew from running away from the bench the two of you were sitting at.

"Probably not," you told her as you bit into your popsicle. "He's handsome. Probably has a bunch of girls lining up to get his number"

"He's playing video games at a park, I seriously doubt that" your sister added.

"I think it's kinda cute. At least he comes out because he wants to" you looked over at your sister who was now too busy chasing after your little nephew to even listen to you. "Aaaaand I was talking to myself. Cool."

You huffed and looked over at the man sat two benches over. He seemed to be having fun on his Nintendo switch and you were sure you weren't having fun babysitting your sister while she tried to babysit her own son... so you took matters into your own hands and walked yourself over to the man.

"Hey, mind if I sit here?" You asked.

The stranger looked up from his game and moved to the side making space for you to sit down. He didn't talk at all but didn't show himself to be rude either. You took the chance to take out your own console.

"What are you playing?" You asked.

He turned around and looked at your hands, his eyes widening a little but the look of surprise was replaced by a smile almost instantly. "Super Smash Bros."

You didn't know what you expected his voice to sound like, but it certainly hadn't been the deep tone you had just received. "Damn, nice voice" you blurted.

He let out a laugh, "what's your name?"

"I'm y/n" you introduced yourself putting your hand out to shake his, "and you?"

He took your hand cautiously, "I'm Wonwoo"

***

"How does this dress look?" You asked as you twirled in front of your now boyfriend of 3 months, Wonwoo.

He smiled approvingly, "baby you look just as amazing as you did in the last dress. You really don't have to worry too much about impressing my friends, they're all a bunch of idiots."

"Well, yes, but... what if they don't like me? I'm the reason you refused all those blind dates they kept setting you up on." You told him.

"And I'm the reason you refused yours, the time will come when I have to meet your friends, too. I promise you there's no reason for us to be worried." He pulled you close and kissed the top of your head.

"I'm just excited to finally meet your friends," you told him. "I want to make a good impression."

"The way you make me smile should be impressive enough, no?" He brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Getting a little cheesy there, aren't we?" You poked his stomach and pulled away. "Anyways. We should get going or we're going to be late!"

***

"You should come up. Some of my friends are still up there. We could hang out" said Wonwoo as he pushed his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans. His tall frame rocking back and forth as he watched you wistfully.

"I really wish I could, but I actually have to go back to work in a bit. I just didn't want for your birthday gift to get to your hands after your special day" You shyly admitted. He held his hand to the necklace that was now hanging from his neck. The pendant hanging from it depicting the Smash ball from the game's logo. Something about him immediately putting the necklace on making your heart race.

"I really wish you could stay, but I guess, you'll just have to make it up to me some other day." He said.

You reached out your pinky and he wrapped his own with yours. "I promise" You told him.

He smiled and you waited expectantly for his nose to scrunch up like you'd learned it would in the last 4 months of knowing the guy. It was weird how after fighting off cheesy romance and dates, you ended up developing a crush on some random guy you'd met at the park.

The both of you stood there for a moment, pinkies linked together as you let the sparks envelope you both. It was obvious you liked each other, however, neither of you seemed to know who should make the first move... nor did you know when.

***

You and Wonwoo arrived at the large hotel his friends had told him to meet them at. A shiver ran down your spine making you take a nervous deep breath. Your boyfriend grinned at your cuteness and squeezed your hand softly before guiding you towards the entrance.

"Oh, God... Maybe I should've brought a gift?" You grumbled as you followed Wonwoo into the hotel. A sudden feeling of guilt taking over you as you remember your own friend, Jihoon, was having a graduation dinner that you couldn't go to because of this. You'd managed to drop off a gift for him days before, but it still bugged you. Jihoon was one of your closest friends after all.

"Honey, it's totally fine. I promise Jihoon won't mind that you didn't bring him a gift" he assured you as he held the door of the fancy restaurant open for you.

"Wait, what did you say?" You asked as you stopped in your tracks. Your boyfriend shooting you a confused look.

"Y-N?"

***

"I don't know, I think my favorite has to be biographies. I'm just nosy" you laughed, Wonwoo following along.

"Hmmm, I mean, biographies are nice, but I've been into humanities lately. It's interesting" He shrugged and licked at his ice cream cone happily. "I used to hate it in high school but I think as I grew up a grew more interested in the way people live... outside of just myself."

"Wow..." you mused.

"What? Was that sexy?" he joked.

You shook your head, "No, you're such a nerd" You teased.

"Hey!" he quipped bumping his shoulder into yours.

"Watch it! I almost dropped my ice cream cone!" Your attempt to seem angry failed by the big smile on your face. It seemed that was all you did around Wonwoo anyways. Smile.

"What flavor is that?" he asked as he eyed your cone curiously.

You put the cone up to his lips, "Butter pecan" You didn't know what exactly you were expecting when you put the cone up to his lips, 75% of you had thought he'd playfully push your hand away while calling it a grandma flavor as he usually did, while the resting 25% of you thought he'd just ignore it and keep walking... but both assumptions were wrong. Wonwoo grabbed your hand with his free one holding the cone in place before getting a taste. It was absolutely insane how much that made your heart race. "Hey! what was that all about?"

"I want to get a taste... but I can't... taste it... maybe I should-" He froze mid-sentence. Wonwoo was nervous. His face was a deep pink as he eyed you closely.

"W-Wonwoo. Are you trying to kiss me right now?" You asked. You wanted to scream and run away but you also wanted to stick around and see if he would.

"I was supposed to be at a blind date today" He admitted.

"Me too," you told him.

"But all I could think of was you" He continued.

"Me too," you agreed once again.

"Y/N, I like you."

***

"What the hell is going on here?" Jihoon's face was twisted in confusion as he stared between the two of you.

"You know each other?" Asked Wonwoo.

Jihoon blinked hurriedly before finding his voice again, "Uh, I think I should be the one asking you that!"

"My head is about to explode" You murmured.

"Yah, Jihoon, Dokyeom just spilled- Oh, Y/N? What are you doing here... with Wonwoo?" Yet another one of your best friends walked out of the restaurant, Jeongyeon's large eyes looking at you and your boyfriend with the same confused expression as Jihoon.

"They got here together," Jihoon announced.

"You two know each other?" Asked Jeongyeon.

"Yeah, Wonwoo's my boyfriend"

"Yeah... we're dating" Wonwoo agreed.

"WHAT?!"

***

"Y/N, pleaseeeeee? I promise you're going to love this guy. He is such a sweet person, he will literally blow you away, and he's handsome! Did I mention he's handsome?!" Jeongyeon's hands were clasped together in front of her chest. It was once a month that she begged for you to go on a blind date with that guy she always talked about, but you shook your head.

"No."

"Why not?! What is it this time!?" Your pretty friend exclaimed as she crossed her arms across her chest.'I have a boyfriend now' You thought, a small smile coming to your lips at the thought of Wonwoo.

"I'm not interested in dating Jjeong. Please, can't we just let it go?" you asked with a soft huff. "We have better things to do anyway. Come on, why don't you let me take a look at your thesis so far."

Jeongyeon huffed and started to pull out her laptop from her book bag. "I can't wait till you meet him. You're gonna regret it"

***

"Wait, pause... so you mean to tell me that we spent ALL THOSE MONTHS trying to set the two of you up... only for you two to meet at a random park and fall in love?!" Soonyoung was being his usual dramatic self again as he glared at you two from across the table.

"I mean, we didn't fall in love right off the bat... but yes. You could say that" Wonwoo answered.

"Wow! I just got chills. I JUST GOT CHILLS!" Dokyeom added as he dramatically hugged himself.

"I just don't understand why neither of you guys told us you were dating! Like... How did we miss it? Where did you hide each other?" Asked Jisoo with a confused frown.

"We didn't. We were friends for about 4 months before we started dating. I even went to drop off his gift at his apartment on his birthday."

"The necklace! I knew I'd seen it somewhere!" Seungcheol exclaimed with wide eyes. "You sent me a picture of the thing and asked if you should get it black or purple!"

"I also asked you for tips on how to confess to a girl over ice cream and got me laughed at." Wonwoo huffed under his breath.

You laughed and shook your head. "You were right, Woo. Your friends are indeed a bunch of idiots"

"Wow... You guys are meant to be. You guys are seriously meant to be. There is no doubt in my mind. I guess when soulmates are meant to meet, they will." chirped Jihoon who kept picking at his plate. "Now that that's all out, I'd like to take a moment to talk about how if Y/N hadn't been dating Wonwoo, she would have missed my graduation dinner for a man. What have you got to say for yourself, traitor?"

"Uh..."

[snarkwrites]

ssw | juice ortiz ; when he can't go any deeper | m

Notes:

Okay so here's the thing.. This is a bit of a glimpse into the future / what if for a fic I'm about to start writing.. well, re-writing. Despite me knowing jack fuckall about strip clubs / exotic dancing / how to describe someone giving or getting a lapdance or pole work, I got the idea to have Hazel working two nights a week in a club, idk why.. Anyway.. The idea wouldn't leave me alone so here we are, loves.

Also.. I'm no longer just dipping my toes in the filth pool anymore. I went all in with this, oops rip. If anyone wants me to actually write the fic I have in mind for this... Pls.. I beg.. LMK.

Prompts:

taken from either [ HERE ] or [ HERE ] give or take. It could be one or the other or a mix of both at my own choosing.

kiss me up against the wall // moan my name as you come // when he can't go any deeper. - those were all the inspiration / prompts for this.

Fandom / Character:

Sons Of Anarchy / Juice Ortiz x Teller Morrow!OFC, Hazel

Fics Hazel can be found in:

None..Yet.

** the one I've used her in is being discontinued to do a rewrite.**

Warnings:

No minors, full stop. There is NSFW / adult content ahead. If you're underage, this was not meant for you -nor should you be reading this. If you choose to stick around after my warnings, this is strictly a you thing and it's not my problem or fault.

If you choose to go on and read this, these are the things present you need to be aware of: stripper!ofc - I admit.. I really am not too sure on how strip clubs operate, so.. if I'm wrong, sorry. lap dancing. thigh riding. body fluids tw. unprotected sex. That's pretty much it.

Tagging:

@brithedemonspawn

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@kyleoreillysknee

@sassymox

@twistnet

Other Stuff:

[ ABOUT MY WRITING | TAG LIST DOC - IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED, THAT IS. | FANDOMS I WRITE FOR]

I swear I wanted to melt into the floor when I happened to glance out in the crowd and see Juice Ortiz sitting in the back with his eyes glued to the stage. I froze where I stood behind the curtain peering out and for a good five seconds, I heavily contemplated just bolting out the back door of the club.

But if I did that, I’d be out of the killer tips I’ve been told I could get dancing at this place. I wouldn’t have an outlet to express myself freely, either.

,, I had to know this would happen sooner or later. Charming is a small town and the guys from Samcro do come to this club. Even taking the audition and showing up tonight was me, taking a huge risk… So I had to know this would’ve happened at some point if I actually get the gig.” the thought came and I took three deep breaths. The hope was that I’d center myself.

Spoiler alert… it did not happen.

But I did catch sight of a brunette wig. And I convinced myself that between the wig and the dim lighting and the fact that Juice was so far away from the front of the club where I’d be dancing on the stage, he wouldn’t figure it out.

I’d just finished putting on the wig when the club owner cleared his throat and nodded to the curtains in front of me. “You’re up, kid. Do this right and Tuesdays and Thursdays are yours. Fuck it up and you can forget ever getting a chance to try again.”

I scoffed at him for a second or two but he stared me down, humorless.

My favorite Motley Crue song began to play and I stepped through the curtain. Out onto the stage and just as I did, I happened to see that prick AJ Weston and the guy who bought one of the shops downtown making their way to the table right in front of me.

My stomach dropped.

Those cold and emotionless eyes locked on me and he smirked. Nodding to me and leaning in to the shop owner. His best buddy or whatever. I don’t try and keep up with whose pissed off my father day by day, so I didn’t exactly know names.

All I did know was that for whatever reason, my mother’s scared to death of AJ Weston. She thinks she hides it, but she doesn’t. And my mother is not a woman who scares easily.

Suddenly, my biggest worry wasn’t Juice sitting in the back of the club anymore. It was the prick sitting right in front of the stage. I strutted out on the stage, not bothering to make eye contact with AJ Weston, no matter how hard I could feel him staring at me, willing me to do so. I tore off the cropped leather jacket I wore over my favorite red lace bra and after twirling it in the air a time or two, I tossed it onto the stage, hitting the floor. Writhing. Arching my back and crawling around, whipping my hair around to the song playing. I kept away from the center of the stage because I did not want to lock eyes with AJ Weston. I literally had zero desire.

The crowd was starting to get into it. I started to feel that rush like I used to feel when I danced in Las Vegas. I completely forgot about AJ Weston, thankfully. And what started off as a bumpy dance got smoother. Even more so when I found myself searching the crowd. Finding Juice in the back and locking eyes with him. That seemed to cut out a lot of my nervousness.

My hands drifted down my body, and I caught myself pretending they weren’t my hands but Juice’s. Just the thought of him feeling me up, his hands pinning my hands over my head. Pressing into me. The way he’d feel strained against those baggy jeans when he bucked against me in the heat of the moment. I used my dirty mind to fuel the dance. Letting my hands wander down to the waistband of my leather pants, working them down.

The crowd was really getting vocal now. They usually do when the clothing starts to actually come off. My stomach fluttered nervously when I locked eyes with Juice in the back of the club and I actually saw the way what I was doing on stage was affecting him.

He sat up a little straighter in his seat. Spread his legs a little. Squirming around. He nursed a glass of whiskey and his eyes wandered up and down my body slowly. When I hit the floor and started to writhe around, my back arching and my ass up in the air, he bit his lip. Watching intently. Rubbing his chin in thought.

Out towards the front of the club, right in front of me, I heard AJ swearing. Laughing out loud. I wanted to strangle the asshole, especially when he really got started with all his stupid filthy commentary as if he were mocking me, as if he were somehow better than this place even though he was willingly sitting here, of his own volition… But I went back to blocking him out. Focusing all my attention on Juice all over again instead.

Imagining what I’d do if I truly had half the nerve. What I’d let him do to me if I weren’t so damn afraid of falling in love with a Samcro man.

Because if I were going to love one, I’d choose him. Hands down. If I were ever to settle, I’d want to settle with Juice Ortiz.

My song was nearing an end. My dance was slowing down. I made my way up the pole again, grinding it as I inched up it. Slowly. Seductively as I could... Eyes locked on Juice the entire time as I flipped myself upside down and started to wind around the pole, spinning slowly with my arm outstretched as the other arm gripped the pole to hold myself. And just before the official end of my song, I dropped to the ground, crawling away from the pole. Towards the front of the stage, bolder. Getting closer in the hopes I could at least get a little better look at Juice’s face because I was dying to see the expression on it right now.

I smirked in his direction and gave a teasing wink as I pulled myself off the floor and slunk towards the red velvet curtain separating the back of the club from the front.

“Stormy Knight, ladies and gentlemen. If anyone wants the VIP experience, find Vinnie.” the announcer called out over the rowdy crowd. I was just about to reach for the doorknob on the door that lead into the dressing room when a throat cleared behind me.

“Not bad, kid. If you can bring that every single Tuesday and Thursday, gigs yours.” the club owner was standing there, smirking. He almost looked like he felt bad for doubting me in the first place. He added casually, “Had three guys come to me about VIP dances. I usually leave all that to my girls to work out. That’s extra dough in your pocket, makes no difference to me. I know half of ya have extra mouths to feed.”

I eyed him, my mouth falling open.

“Three guys? Like.. altogether?”

“No, no.. Two were together. One was by himself. Belonged to one of the MCs. Just do me a favor and at least attempt to obey club rules, kid. Don’t go gettin knocked up on the clock.” the man laughed and I took a deep breath.

At best, I figured that the biker in question was probably one of the Mayans I’d seen sitting towards the middle of the club.

I was pretty damn sure I knew exactly who the two men were and after mulling it over because it seemed as if my new boss was awaiting a decision from me, I decided I wanted no part of the risk of having to give AJ Weston and his slimy friend a private show.

“I’ll take the biker tonight, man. I’m not feelin up to a three way.”

The owner nodded and mused thoughtfully, “Good idea, kid.. That one guy out of the two of ‘em looked like his elevator didn’t go all the way to the top floor. I’ll go get your biker and bring him back. You got room 3. That was Gina’s old room.” before walking away, disappearing out into the front of the club again.

“Please god… at least let it be the J.D Pardo look alike if it’s one of the Mayans.” I muttered to myself, not daring to get my hopes up that it’d be Juice.

A throat cleared from behind me. I nearly shit myself when I heard Tig Trager mumble with a laugh, “Okay Ortiz. Go get your girl.” before walking away. I did not dare turn around until I knew Tig was long gone.

“Stormy, huh? That’s one hell of a name, baby girl.” he mused aloud.

I turned around slowly. Found myself body to body with him. He was staring down at me intently, licking his lips. Chuckling as he shook his head and leaned in a little closer to whisper, “Does daddy know you dance, Hazelynn? Because if he’d been here… Seen all that…” he fanned himself and gave me a teasing smirk.

My mouth dropped open.

“How? How’d you know?” I stammered out.

“I saw your car parked outside… Life pro tip, princess.. If you wanna keep this a secret, I’d suggest parking around back. Or catching a ride. Because your car? Kind of hard to forget.” Juice’s hand settled on my hip and he pulled me just a little closer. His eyes dipped down, settling on my lips, a quiet groan coming when his intent stare made me lick my lips and fidget a little.. Melting against him a little before I could stop myself from doing it. Giving a sheepish laugh as I glanced up at him.

“Your secret’s safe with me. Relax.” he chuckled. He must have felt how tense my body was as I pressed against him. I let out a shaky breath. Parts of me wanted to ask the logical question, if he came here a lot, but also, at the same time parts of me definitely didn’t want to know. Those parts of me knew that if I did ask and he said he did, I’d get just a little jealous. Because it already happened whenever I’d see him at the bar and he’d have Croweaters flocking to him.

“Guess I owe you a VIP.” I teased gently, nodding towards the door with the gold star and the black number 3 painted on it. I reached down, grabbing hold of his hand, starting to lead him in the direction of the room.

“If you don’t wanna do this…” Juice frowned slightly and acted like he was going to walk away, but I stopped him. Made him look at me.

“It’s fine. It’s part of the job.” I gave him a reassuring smile as I opened the door to the room, stepping inside. Letting him step inside.

He closed the door behind him and we found ourselves body to body all over again. He muttered quietly, “Confession… I saw that Weston asshole and his idiot friend talking to the owner about a VIP dance with you so I went over and offered more money.”

Between the goofy little shit eating grin he gave me as he said it and the fact that he did that because he knows the guy creeps me right the fuck out, I was blown away. Before I could stop myself, I rose to tiptoe, gently pressing my lips against the corner of his mouth. “You’re an actual angel come to Earth, sir. You have definitely earned that dance.” I muttered softly as I pulled back to look up at him.

He bit his lip and my eyes followed the movement helplessly.

If I thought I was making myself wet on stage with my own dirty imagination, it was nothing compared to how wet I got when I locked eyes with him and realized that he was fully aware that I’d been staring at his mouth like a proper idiot.

I stepped close to him again and placed my palm on the front of his cutte, gently shoving him so that he settled in the chair right behind him.

Right away, his hands went to my hips. I lowered my hands, pushing his hands back down as I shook my head. “No touching. Club rules, Juice.”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, sorry.” he gave an awkward laugh and I giggled softly. Sinking down into his lap slowly.

Maybe I was slightly exaggerating out in the hallway when I told him I could do this and made it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. The second I settled in his lap and started to grind against it, I could feel myself dripping just a little more. I rose up slightly and he sucked in a breath. His knuckles went white with the way he was gripping the arms of the chair. His eyes were absolutely glued to me and I smirked. Teasing a little. Acting as if I’d take off the cropped leather jacket over my bra only to pull it back up.

The third time I did this, he growled quietly. Bucked himself against me. When I whimpered and grinded myself down harder against his lap, he muttered in a heated whisper, “You feel what you’re doing to me right now, baby girl?”

Oh. I felt it alright. The way he strained at his jeans, cock still twitching and growing harder and harder. The little friction I was allowing myself wasn’t enough. My cunt was throbbing and I was getting so wet that I was pretty sure when I finished giving him his lapdance the poor guy was going to have a wet spot on his jeans.

“Mhm.” I answered in a daze, leaning in so that my lips brushed against the shell of his ear and my tits rubbed right against him. He whimpered and bucked into me all over again and when I slipped out of his lap, he frowned. I hit my knees, parting his legs. Staring up at him from where I kneeled on the floor and he shifted in his seat, gripping the arms of the chair tighter when I started to rise up. Swaying my hips side to side. Leaning in. Rubbing against him as much as I could get away with. Oh, I was definitely using this little VIP dance he paid for as an excuse to do as much touching and teasing as I thought I could get away with.

All those urges to touch him I normally kept at bay were finally being allowed free reign and it felt so good.

I settled on his lap again. He let out a long and shaky breath and we locked eyes. He was staring at me like he wanted to ask me something or he wanted to say something but he wasn’t sure how.

“What’s up?” I asked quietly.

“Nothin, it’s nothin.” he said it quickly. Too quick. I gripped his cutte and pulled him in closer. My mouth inching dangerously close to his as I muttered against it, “Whatever you want to say, say it. Trust me. I can handle it.”

“Okay, you asked for it.” he muttered. After a second or two of staring at his lap, he looked up at me again and asked quietly, “Did you wanna dance for me?”

“I got the owner to come get you, didn’t I?” my heart was beating faster. I thought it’d jump right out of my chest. I did my best to play as cool and casual as I could but every single part of me wanted to tell him that dancing was not all I wanted to do for him.

“I know that… what I mean is.. Forget it.” he went quiet. Looked down again and I gripped his jaw, making him look up at my face. “Eyes up here, Ortiz.” I teased gently, my smile falling away when I saw the serious and somber look in his eyes. I scooted away a little, an attempt to give him some space. Settling myself over his thigh instead of fully positioned on his lap as I had been.

“Talk to me.” the words left my mouth in a whimper as I pressed myself right against his thigh, rocking my throbbing sex back and forth over it. Getting wetter and wetter with each second that passed. And the ache. Oh god, the ache. I was on the brink of frustrated tears. And I couldn’t break down, I couldn’t act anything less than totally professional, because this was my night job and I was on the clock but God.. did I ever want to.

He spread his legs wider and took a deep breath. Trying not to touch me, but I could tell with the way he kept raising his hands only to put them back down on the arm rests of the velvet covered chair he sat in that he wanted nothing more than to do that very thing.

And the thought of those hands on me had me flooded in a split second. If there was any doubt before that I’d leave a wet spot behind on his jeans at the end of this dance, there wasn’t going to be by the time it was over.

Anticipation and desire had my stomach coiled tightly. I wanted, more than anything, to be able to pick up with this back home… Behind closed doors. Just him and I.

But I knew that tonight was most likely just going to be an awkward little secret. Kept between two friends. And it bothered me, because I wanted so much more than that but I was afraid to cross lines and let myself have that… I doubted it was even an option anyway because I just didn’t think Juice even saw me like that.

Sure, we flirted now and then, but nothing ever came of it.

God, did I want it to.

This heavy tension seemed to settle in all around us and I picked up on it. Juice groaned quietly, and after he nearly broke the no touch rule again and very nearly reached out to grab hold of my ass and rock me against his thigh faster, I leaned in.. Pressed against him as I continued to grind against his leg and muttered against his ear, “Most guys put their arms behind their head… Til they’re used to not being allowed to touch.. They get verbal too…” my words hitching in my throat, rushing out over each other breathlessly.

He raised his hands, locking them behind his head. Sprawling back against the chair. It seemed to help ease the tension built in his body too, because I felt him sort of melting into the chair a little and I smiled.

“C’mon.. Tell me what you want me to do.” I coaxed, fixing my eyes on him and biting my lip when I immediately found myself getting sucked far too deep into his gaze.

“Touch yourself.” he muttered. Raising up a little. Leaning forward. “Touch yourself for me, baby girl… Like you were when you were dancin out front.”

I let my hands wander.

They were shaking slightly and I just hoped to God that it wasn’t noticed.

Juice took a few shaky breaths and bucked a little in the seat. “Come closer.. Get on my lap.”

I moved so that I was straddling his lap and the way his cock strained against his jeans and I tried to stop myself, but as I started to rock myself back and forth over it, I whimpered quietly. My breath caught in my throat a time or two and my heart was beating so fast I thought it was going to beat out of my chest.

“I normally don’t buy dances if I come here.” he muttered quietly, shattering through my own current internal struggle.

Knowing this relaxed me a little. It was obvious he didn’t just going off the way he acted, but.. I still wondered. Some guys like to pretend it’s their first lap dance because it gets them going.

I’m not here to judge anyone.

I mean.. I have a good paying day job as a legal assistant and here I am.. Dancing two nights a week whenever I can find a club to take me just so I have some form of release.. Just so I can feel intimacy that for whatever reason, I tend to deny myself in reality.

I almost asked him why, but I remembered what he told me out in the hallway about outbidding AJ because he knew the guy scared me. And I stopped myself, even though parts of me hoped there was more to it than that.

My hands moved over my chest and I rocked myself over him faster. My breath catching in my throat as I felt myself rushing straight into an orgasm I’d been trying like hell to hold back the whole time we’d been in the VIP room.

I could feel my body burning up under his gaze and he leaned in again. Muttered breathlessly against my ear, “If you’re nervous..”

“It’s fine.” I pretended to brush it off. I acted as chill about doing this for him as I possibly could.

“Turn away.. I wanna watch you movin from behind, baby girl.” he muttered. The request caught me by surprise a little, but I kind of realized that he was doing it more for me than for himself.

I did what he asked, turning in his lap so that I faced away. My eyes caught his in the reflection of the mirrored wall in front of us. As I started to rock my ass over his bulge, he growled quietly. Bucking himself up into me. Biting his lip as he did it three more times. Muttered in a lust filled daze “Fuck yeah, baby girl.. Work that ass.”

Just the way he said it had me dripping all over again.

“Faster.” he panted, bucking himself up into me all over again. Harder.

I tried not to, but I found myself imagining that he was taking me from behind. A fist full of my hair and my tits pressed right against the mirrored wall in front of us. And I rocked myself back and forth over his cock, pressing down even harder. Moving even faster. Almost close to a blinding orgasm.

“Fuck.” I swore quietly.

Juice sat up in the chair. Pressing his chest into my back. Muttering against my ear, “ Did you wanna dance for me like this?”

“Juice, I told you already.” my head fell back and my eyes fluttered open and shut. I squeezed my tits and rolled my hips faster. My breath came in short pants because I was so close to an orgasm that I was throbbing. He was leaning in again to whisper. “What I mean is if this wasn’t your job.. And it was just me and you… Would you wanna..” he rocked himself against me all over again. Harder. With more urgency as he swore under his breath and muttered that if I kept it up, he was going to come all over himself.

“ Turn around facin me.” he panted, his lips brushing against my ear and sending a shiver rushing through me. I turned back around in his lap to face him. Raising up a little. Teasing him by putting my tits at level with his mouth. Squeezing them together before lowering my hand. Toying with the waistband of my leather pants. Teasing him like I’d take them off.

“ Tease.” he pouted up at me.

“ That’s kind of what you’re paying me for right now, Juice.” I gave a soft laugh as I tucked a finger beneath his chin. Pulling his mouth dangerously close to mine. He licked his lips in anticipation and when he did, his tongue brushed right against my mouth. I whimpered helplessly.

And I just barely kept myself from exploding.

“You’re tensin up on me, Haze… Somethin wrong?” Juice asked quietly.

Looking at me as if he were bracing himself for something bad to be said.

By this point, I was so caught up in the moment, in the way it felt to grind myself against his cock and get out all these long denied urges to touch him to my hearts content.. It slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it.

“Honestly? I’m a breath away from coming and this never.. Ever… happens to me when I’m givin a private dance.” my words came in a breathless rush and as soon as I realized what I’d just said, I lost my groove for a second or two. Slowing down. Trying to pull myself together.

Hoping to God that I didn’t just make things awkward for him and I in the future because I’d rather have him as a friend than not have him at all.

His mouth opened and closed and his hands gripped the arm rests again. Tighter.

“Do you know how hard it is for me? Feelin you dancin on my cock like this? Knowin I.. Knowin that this is probably as close as I’m ever gonna get? Fuck… If I were ever lucky enough to have you all to myself, baby girl...”

His words caught me by surprise. My heart fluttered a little and I swallowed hard. Going still in his lap just to stare at him.

The lights getting brighter and the music in the room going quiet had both of us jumping apart. I realized that probably meant my time in the room was done and before I could give myself a chance to back out, I slipped off his lap and held out my hand to him.

“ C’mon.”

He eyed my hand and took hold of it, standing. I practically drug him out of the room and then down the hall. Out the door and into the back lot behind the club. Once the door was shut behind us, I started to pace in front of him. Just trying to put it all together.

Torn between continuing to fight what I felt for him and caving in.

When he stepped in front of me and placed his hands on my upper arms, staring down into my eyes intently, something in me snapped and before I could stop myself, I had his back pressed against the door of the building. My hands caught his, holding them over his head as I rose up slightly and crashed my mouth against his mouth.

Devouring. Hungry.

At first, he didn’t really react. But when the shock cleared and he realized what I was doing, he came alive. I melted against him and he growled into my mouth, deepening the kiss. Teeth latching onto my bottom lip and tugging until I felt it starting to bruise. I let his hands go and they were all over me. Settling on my ass. Rocking me up against him and making me whimper and dig my fingers into his shoulders. I couldn’t melt into him any more if I tried. I was so exhausted from trying to hold back in more ways than one at this point that my filter was totally shot. I rocked myself against him clumsily, a begging and needy whine filling the space between our mouths as the kiss broke when I just couldn’t hold it back.

“Do you know why I almost got off giving you a lap dance? Do you know what you do to me, Juice? I.. I tried so hard not to fall for you and yet.. Here I am.”

He blinked in shock. For a few seconds we stared at each other, panting for our next breath. Neither of us saying a word.

Then he bent and scooped me up. Started to carry me towards the end of the alley where he’d parked his Dyna Glide.

I didn’t do or say anything to try to stop him. I didn’t want to.

I’m so tired of keeping him at arms length. I’m tired of fighting the way I feel.

He sat me on the back of his bike and I grabbed hold of the front of his vest, pulling him down. Pulling his mouth down against mine all over again because I just.. I was needy. I craved him on this level I couldn’t even begin to get my head around.

His bike came to a stop in front of his apartment building and he got off. Scooping me up all over again. Stopping just outside the doors leading into the building to grope and kiss me. Letting his lips stray down the side of my neck. Sucking a mark deep into my skin. I clung to him and begged breathlessly, “Juice, please..”

Neither of us was really stopping to think. I didn’t want to.

I wanted him.

More importantly, I wanted to be with him. And tonight just proved to me that I couldn’t fight it anymore.

The whole time he was trying to unlock his apartment door, he kept fumbling with the keys. Rutting right against me. Stopping to kiss or touch me. When he finally got it unlocked, he stepped through the door and stepped over to the couch. Tossing me down onto it gently. Following close behind. Pressing himself down into me and snapping his hips against mine, making me whimper. My whimper echoing off the walls of the quiet room. I reached down between us, tugging at the hem of his white t shirt and he rose up, pulling off his vest and tossing it at a chair nearby. Then pulling his shirt off and tossing it too. It settled on the floor in front of the chair. Then he was pulling me up. Tearing my bra away and tossing it out into the room. My hands lowered, tugging at the waistband of his jeans and he bit his lip. Gazing at me for a second or two with this look of lust and adoration in his eyes. Savoring the moment and what was about to happen.

Because it’s been building for a while, apparently. I just focused so damn hard on keeping myself from caving in and letting myself have what I wanted, with him, that somehow, I missed all the signs.

“Baby, c’mon.” I begged.

The term of endearment slipped out.

He gave me that little smirk. Rubbed his chin in thought as he let his eyes wander.

He worked his way down my body, using his body to part my legs. He worked my leather pants down my legs and I kicked them free at my ankles.

His fingers caught in the thin strap of my panties and they came away with a quiet tear. I tried to get him out of his pants again and he lowered my hands. Slipping off the sofa. I watched intently as he teased me, pouting about it. Begging.

I needed him buried inside me. Fucking me. Slow. Deep. All night long.

His pants fell to his ankles and he kicked off his boots and then kicked his pants free from his legs. When he dropped his boxers, I swallowed hard as my eyes settled on the way his cock stood at attention once it was free from fabric. He was pressing himself down into me all over again.

His mouth roaming over my tits. Tongue teasing my nipples as my back arched away from the sofa and I rocked myself against him. His free hand settled between us, circling his thick cock. Teasing it between my folds and making me shiver and cling to him. Try to rock myself against him urgently.

And then he buried his cock inside me. Shallow at first. Going still to let me adjust to him. I felt like I was being split in two and the feeling had me whining. Nipping at his chest, at any patch of skin I could get my mouth on just so I could muffle the way I wanted to scream his name at the top of my lungs.

I rocked into him clumsily and he growled quietly. His hands going down to my hips. Holding them still as he started to pound me harder. Deeper. So deep he couldn’t go any deeper. When he bottomed out, I dragged my nails down his back.

“Not yet, baby girl. C’mon, hold out just a little longer for me.” Juice coaxed breathlessly as his hips crashed against me with a bruising pace. I begged for release, on the verge of tears. The more I begged, the more he’d slow down. Stop to kiss me or leave marks on me. Torture.

Slow, steady and deep torture.

“You gonna moan my name when you cum?” he questioned, slamming his cock deep into my womb. Going still and capturing my mouth in a deep and passionate kiss. “ God. You’re so.” he panted, snapping his hips against mine, cock pistoning in and out of me with steady deep thrusts, “So fuckin wet I can barely stay in. Fuck. Shit. Shiiiit, baby girl. I wanna cum so bad.”

“Juice! Ah, -ah fuck. Right there.” my back arched away from the couch and my orgasm ripped through me, leaving me weak and dazed, clinging to him as I tried desperately to keep up with his pace, spent. Dripping. My walls vising his cock and clenched around it. Tears flooding my eyes because holy fuck, all I’ve wanted for the entire time was to finally be allowed to let go.

Juice stared down at me from above, a soft gaze. He caught a tear as it made a black trail down my cheek. Chuckling quietly. Going still to pepper kisses soft against my mouth and then trail them down the front of my throat. When he started to move again, he muttered against my lips softly, “It’s okay, baby girl. I got you. I’m right here.” as he pistoned in and out, the wet sloshing sounds accompanying each thrust he made seeming to make him move just a little faster. His hands were all over me and all I could really do was lie there, pinned beneath him. Whimpering his name as I tried to come down from the high. Stare up at him softly as my mind spun, replaying every single thing that led us here, to this exact moment.

“Oh fuck. Fuck baby girl. You want it?” his hips stammered, smashing against mine in a bruising pace and his words were swallowed by another hungry kiss and I nodded. Just when I thought he couldn’t get any deeper, he did. Striking against my throbbing g-spot a time or two and growling, biting. Locking his lips against my neck and sucking yet another big,deep mark into soft flesh. The warmth of his release flooded me, making me whimper. Overfilling me, because I could feel the excess slowly leak down. Puddle beneath me on the sofa.. I bucked my hips against him greedily trying to take it all because I wanted it. I needed it. I craved him so badly I couldn’t have put it to words if I tried. He leaned into me heavily, panting for his next breath. Spent. A fine sheen of sweat gathered on our bodies. I grabbed hold of his face and pulled his mouth against mine. Our foreheads pressed together and he muttered quietly, “Mine?”

“Yours.” it shocked me when the word bubbled out. It shocked me because a, I was saying it and b, I meant it. With everything in me. As soon as I said it, he gave me a soft and lazy grin. Pressing his lips to my forehead. He collapsed onto the couch settling behind me. Pulling me on top of him.

Quiet little soft kisses. Caressing my face as he stared up at me and caught sight of one of the bigger marks he left on my throat, grimacing as he chuckled about it quietly.

“Fuck me. Baby, that was amazing...” I groaned out in a daze, making him laugh and gaze up at me. “Give me an hour, babe.” he teased…

“Careful. I might take you up on that.” I teased back, melting against his body. Letting his arms wrap around me and hold me tight.

[rpbetter]

Sorry if this isn't the place to ask but I'm in need of advice. I have a canon character I truly adore, but I haven't gotten muse or any opportunity to write them at all. My blog is collecting dust and the fandom is kinda dead at this point. Not to mention, it's hard to find compatible writing partners, especially with how picky I can be. I'm honestly considering deactivating the blog (for the nth time), but I don't want to lose the writing I have. I know I could archive, but I hate having blogs just sitting around.

In short, I really want to write the muse/keep the blog but I'm not getting any incentive to do that.

Hello, Anon, it’s totally the place to ask!

I will say, though, that since finding and keeping muse can be flavored rather personally, I can’t promise that what works for me is going to work for you. I’ll even confess that in over two decades, I’ve never personally lost muse. I don’t know if it is due to underlying, neurodiverse style, fixating, or if it is due to keeping myself continually invested in both my muse and writing regardless of what else is going on. (Probably a combination of both, though, and the things I do to keep myself highly in touch with my muse I’ll be recommending.) I’m definitely happy to try to help, however.

That really is a very frustrating spot to be in, wanting to write the muse and keep your blog active, but logging in every day to be reminded of what little reason you have to do so. Since we’re drawn to the characters we are for reasons of personal appeal and writing in itself is a pretty personal form of art, it can also feel depressing on top of the frustration.

However, that’s also the good news, in my opinion, because your incentive here is, or can be, yourself.

You were drawn to this character because you connected with them. They mean something to you, you can relate to them, maybe they have qualities (good or bad) that you wish you could experience. Whatever it is, there’s a reason why you had this draw. Writing is like that as well, there’s a reason why this is a hobby that drew you, that you get enjoyment out of. Again, though all art (it doesn’t matter if it is a hobby) has personal bits of the artist in it, writing is uniquely personal. When you write, you’re exploring thoughts and feelings, giving them life in a character that matters to you. I know, all of that sounds really convoluted and hokey, but it’s true.

And it’s good! That means you always have a reason to write and that you have the tools necessary to find and keep muse without any outside push necessary.

I’d say, firstly, work on getting muse back.

Get back in touch with your muse the next time you feel a particularly strong urge to write. Instead of spending time trying to find people in a silent fandom or forcing yourself to write something you don’t want to, just do some exercises that will help you get back into your muse.

I don’t know what media type your character comes from, but especially if it is something like movie or show that you can have on in the background of what you’re doing, do that. If it’s a comic or a book, think about your favorite scene and read it over first. If you’ve ever made some playlists for writing/your muse, you can always do that instead or as well. The point is to do something passively inspiring while you actively create. Now, that creating...

You want to do something that requires you to think about your muse so you can get in touch with them, not something that is going to make you feel overwhelmed and shut down. So, maybe don’t pick writing prompts for this - you can work up to that. Try out headcanon and character development memes and other question lists instead for right now. Things you can scroll down a list of, find questions that jump out as interesting (or even simply answerable to you at this point, you’re jump-starting a dead battery, it’s alright) and answer them. You can also do something as simple as write down what you like best about the character or their story, or put down the basics of filling in missing information that has always bugged you.

The beauty of this is that it is all on your own terms, your only objective here is to answer what you want, as much as you want. You can stop any time, but you can also answer a single question for three hours, making it eight pages long if the inspiration strikes you. It’s only about recharging your inspiration and establishing a connection with your character again. (This is also going to help you with getting back into writing, or approaching it for the first time, with a more internalized focus of interest.)

When you feel like you’ve done that, you can branch out on these exercises more. Answer the memes more in-depth, answer more of them/the ones you don’t have immediate answers for. You can also try writing out scenes from the character’s canon from their perspective, if it wasn’t already so, adding in their thoughts and feelings, or changing the scene in some ways that would be interesting to write out. This is the point where it’s a good idea to try a writing prompt or two, as well! Take the prompt as a sort of starter sentence from a mutual, you’ve got the situation, fill in with your muse.

Write when you feel like writing. The RPC is great at saying this when it comes to muns not wanting to write, but kind of ignores the other side of the equation. The side where you want to write, have the inspiration and muse to do so, but it might not be the best time. As in, you’re not home/wherever you usually write, with whatever device you tend to write on accessible. No, you’re not going to be able to get as much done, but you can write without the usual situation and device regardless. You can write a scene or ideas down using your phone or tablet, or go old school and use a notebook. If you’re at work and your job isn’t applicable to being able to get down a single sentence, that still doesn’t mean you have to wait 8+ hours to get home; while you’re taking your break, write a little bit. It is a break, and writing is your hobby, it isn’t work. It’s good to do things you enjoy on breaks, and far more fulfilling to have also accomplished something you happen to enjoy.

Not writing when you have the drive to do, putting it off and holding it in until “the perfect moment,” is a great way to lose your inspiration and never actually have that moment. If you feel like doing it, that means it is the perfect moment. Life is restricting, don’t impose even more restrictions on yourself by having to be at home, in a specific spot, with a specific device, at a specific time, on a specific day. Was that annoying repetition? You’re right, it was. And that’s how your creative mind processes all the crap piled onto it that doesn’t allow for creativity.

Now, the other problem, the fandom situation.

There isn’t anything you can do about that, to be absolutely honest. I’m not going to blow smoke and tell you to be positive, wait it out, maybe the fandom will spring to life again. You know, maybe it will...but you could be waiting literal decades for that to happen. Not cool. Please, take my word for that, it’s personal experience that it blows even more than you imagine it will.

What you can do is take the matter into your own hands in other ways; putting yourself out there with more availability in multiple ways.

Are you a single-fandom blog, or are you crossover friendly? If you’re not crossover friendly, try to think of a single, relatively popular fandom that you enjoy. Don’t look at it like a hassle, but rather, just another creative exercise. A serious pitfall of creating alternate universe versions of muses is to take the simplest route, merely picking something you want from that other universe and applying it to your muse with no relevant changes that would naturally occur from it. It isn’t just reductive as hell, it’s not remotely creative, it’s like sticking a sticker on your muse’s forehead and saying that’s a whole different muse. It’s neither attractive to potential partners nor going to sustain your own interest for long. You want this to be a passionate investment on your own end, for yourself.

What not to do:

Let’s say the fandom you picked to do crossovers with is based around magic, the main characters are witches, and they are divided into factions based on how their magical talents display and develop. Not only do you decide to make your muse a witch, you pick the most badass faction. It’s the one full of assassins and action and (metaphorically or literally) sex appeal. Well, that’s also going to be the most popular faction in the fandom. That means there will not only be plenty of big name canons there but also that there’s going to be a plethora of OCs designed just for this universe...and other crossovers from other currently active fandoms.

While that might sound like it’s great for maximizing interaction chances, it’s really not when you’re just starting somewhere new with a character from another fandom that might not be known or liked. It can also take a minute in another fandom’s RPC to identify where the good partners are. Every now and then, it is the most popular and over-populous era/faction/etc., but most of the time, it isn’t. People who write with considerable dedication and talent fairly rarely are in the popular kids club even in their fandom choices. By inserting yourself into that area, you might be bypassing (and being bypassed) by better partners on the assumption that their characters are simply going to bore you to death since they’re not within the scope of your focal point.

It’s not a situation of not being allowed to be picky, you not only have that right regardless of your situation, you also should be. This is not a “beggars can’t be choosers” situation, you’re not beholden to anyone on the basis of being new and bored. However, some of my best, and longest lasting, writing partners over all 23 years I’ve been RPing didn’t/don’t fit with all the exact surface details that automatically draw my interest. It is as true within my own fandom as it is in dealing with crossovers. Opposites (with enough similarities) really do attract and work out well together!

Don’t judge and write people off for anything that isn’t an issue of compatibility with your muse, your writing, or yourself. Decline someone because they do one line only and you are novella, they write topics that are upsetting to you, you can see no way your muse and theirs can interact without instant murder, or because you cannot stand writing with someone who is pulling 90% aesthetics and purple prose. Not because their muse is a witch who uses life-based magic, loves nature, is a healer, and into their health...while your muse in this AU is all about the death, only appreciates an urban environment and is grossed out by animals, kills as an occupation, lives on cheeseburgers and caffeine. You see what I’m saying? Don’t limit yourself unnecessarily!

What to do:

Did you consider if, in that hypothetical idea of a fandom, your muse based on their purely canon self would even fit into that faction? Or is it just something you wanted to see? If you didn’t consider this, or it was the latter, fix that. That’s bad.

If you’re not absolutely dead set on that and only that, think about what really does fit the muse better. Maybe, they would be better as a healer, someone who messes with the very fabric of reality, or someone who manipulates natural elements at will. Then again, they might not even be a witch. They could be more mundane in terms of power, but more accurate and interesting as a normal, human (or whatever). They could even be greatly opposed to the use of magic and witches. Use your muse’s original canon as a base to decide these things.

If you are absolutely dead set on it, though, you have a lot of work to do making the character into what amounts to a markedly different one while still retaining some recognizable aspects of themselves. Consider what events, in this new universe of fandom, might have happened to alter the character thus. Keep in mind that even small changes can have great consequences in a character’s development, and you might need to think about the myriad ways in which that can display, how it changes still more things for this character.

While that job becomes so much more intense when you haven’t planned out a path that matches your muse’s canon characterization at all, it is still an important part of constructing an AU, of any kind, in general. Ask yourself what experiences led to the character you know as you already know them (including your own headcanons, yes). Then, find similar possible experiences within your new fandom verse that can have the same effect. Again, though, it’s important to understand that you are never going to have an identical set of experiences, so you need to explore relevant changes still.

When you do this, you’re allowing your muse to more seamlessly fit into this other universe in a fleshed out, interesting way. Interesting both new partners and yourself.

Okay, next obnoxious question from me! Do you have multiple verses, or are you single-verse?

Whether you are already exploring new fandoms or not, by creating a variety of verses for others to interact with, you’re increasing your chances for interest and activity. When you have a verse from a different fandom you can then, additionally, advertise your presence in both that fandom’s tags when you do a promo or applicable open starter and on active RPer lists for that fandom.

Every popular fandom has such lists. You can get on them by messaging/sending an ask to the blog or by reblogging their post to be added, following the directions. I haven’t seen one yet that doesn’t allow for crossovers. You simply have to tag it as stated in the post, such as “your canon’s name here - original fandom name - crossover.” By tagging your open starter or promo as “-insert fandom here- rp” and “-fandom here- open starter” you allow people in that fandom to find you to interact. Either way is excellent for getting started in totally new places with a character others might be unfamiliar with.

Please remember that if you tag a promo as “promo,” it’ll not show up in searches off of your blog. You know, where it actually needs to be searched. Thanks, tumblr, for being janky! Being more specific as to the fandom and character will help others actually find you. Don’t shoot yourself in the foot by tagging it as “promo.”

Make your verses accessible on your blog itself, in the nature of those verses, and how you set up your page or post that lists them.

Don’t put any page behind an impossible or complicated aesthetic. You really shouldn’t anyway, but when you’re needing interactions, it’s actively hurting your chances. Many people don’t want to have to play a game with your theme, it’s a turn off. Try a pinned post that lists all of your links to important pages like rules, verses, and bio instead. It means that, even from the dash, that information can quickly be found while other muns are first interested, and also that anyone who might be using the app can access it more expediently. (I’m genuinely not a fan or big supporter of doing google docs for rules, verses, bios, etc., as it forces people off site, so I can’t personally say, in good conscious and honesty, that I’d recommend it, but you do you!) You want to keep things quickly accessible is the idea here; when people are interested, you want to catch them right then and there before they have a chance to forget and lose your blog.

As to the nature of the verses themselves, give people real options. Don’t have 20 verses that all read same way. Same themes, plot possibilities, and backstories, or incredibly similar names. Have a diverse list of verses that can act as foundations for a variety of different muns. As many fandoms as you can reasonably have a good portrayal of, and different types of fandoms; not all the same genre (all fantasy, all horror, all scifi). Verses where your muse has substantially different goals, occupations, and other life situations that will involve another muse; don’t make your muse A Warrior™ in every verse, you can keep plenty of those aspects without being that literal. People love “modern” verses set in our own universe and, usually, in our own era. That doesn’t mean you have to go stereotypical or otherwise bore yourself by doing the standard “high school/college verse,” for instance. You don’t even have to designate that sort of thing, let alone make it the focus; simply create the verse by considering what your character really would be like if they existed within your reality.

As a final note on verses as pertains to this point, when you’re doing crossover verses, it’s alright to do some verses where your muse from their own canon existence somehow ends up teleported or whatever to another fandom’s reality, or even our own. Just don’t make every verse like this, it puts the onus of a great deal of creativity and effort onto the other mun by default; your muse has cluelessly dropped into the universe, and while it is high drama time for you, the other mun has to babysit, educate, deal with fallout, etc.

On making the list of your verses accessible, you want to focus on ease of browsing and not being overwhelming. People tend to look through a verse page and not read every verse listed, rather, they look at the titles and breakdowns to see if it is of interest, then read it. Don’t try to make everyone read them all, it isn’t going to happen, and shouldn’t change your effort any as the right people are going to find the verses that interest them...if you make it clear and easy enough.

Have a basic format you stick to, firstly. I do it this way: small verse banner, title of verse (linked to its overall tag so that muns can look through the tag at headcanons, aesthetics, pictures of the FC, and threads), muse age/age range, small blurb, possible triggers found uniquely or just heavily within this verse. In that order, one following the other in a simple, but pleasing way. Below that, is a more in depth breakdown of the “verse canon.” Sometimes, that is giving a brief rehashing of canon itself and anywhere my muse differs, be it in this verse only or overall, ending with where my muse is in this verse. Not literally where. I mean their present occupation, emotional and general state in life. At the very end, I provide any other relevant links and/or an expansion on the triggers mentioned at the top of the verse description if they’re that serious/recurrent so that muns can decide this isn’t the verse for them. I happen to have a potentially triggering muse, triggering verses, and writing triggering topics, though. That’s not something everyone needs to do.

Secondly, group your verses in a sensible way. I do my short list of default verses first. (And, I do mean short, you don’t want this be any more than four or five, it is overwhelming right out of the gate.) For me, that is two default verses of canon at different points on the timeline, one default AU that is a bit of a reversal of canon, and one default “modern” verse. Then, I list the verses that are in line with the altered canon one, just different possibilities, changes, points in history. After that, the different “modern” verse options. Then, verses for other fandoms, the crossover verses. And so on. This way, a potential partner can find the type of verse that might appeal to them and have an easier time picking from those possibilities and getting ideas.

Lastly, don’t be so succinct that you give too little information and underwhelm, but also don’t be so excessive that it takes all of the mystery of interaction away and overwhelms someone. It can be a difficult balance to strike, and some verses require more information than others, just experiment a bit. Additionally, it’s fine to link to pertinent information for the other mun to view aside from this, but don’t just link people to a fandom wiki as your “description/bio.” That isn’t giving information on how you write this muse, approach this fandom, or what another mun can otherwise expect. Keeping your descriptions interesting is important, you’re not giving a boring lecture, you’re trying to inform someone while making them hyped for their choices. It’s more interesting, and informative, to read if you do them with an ear to the “tone” of your muse in that verse. Is it a sad one? Sound that way. These can, indeed, function as snippets of your writing, so be sure you are writing them with the same care you should be giving your replies; spellcheck, good word flow and use, mind the grammar, and read over what you’ve written for common, easy mistakes.

Again, by giving a genuine variety of verses to choose from, you’re allowing for a greater reach in potential partners. Everyone from those still in your original fandom to those in new ones, all the way to fandomless muses will be able to interact with you this way.

Finally, in regards to what you can change or do when you’re in a dead fandom and seeking interactions; make sure you are increasing your reach by using proper tags, being honest about what and how you write, and don’t wait for others to stumble across you.

When you use tags properly, you’re increasing your chances of being seen at all. Every time you post something at all applicable on your blog, tag it with relevant things. Tag as described above with whatever fandom it is and “RP,” your character’s name, “open RP,” character name and RP, indie RP, open starter, and so on. Be sure you are optimizing your tags by placing the most relevant to finding you in the first four, those are what show up in site-wide searches only. Anything after that isn’t going to appear in a search across all tumblr.

By tagging your character’s name, as a canon, you should know that you are likely to get personal blog interaction. I’m pretty against being nasty to personal blogs for no reason, as I don’t appreciate personal and fandom blogs being shitty to me for the sole reason that I am an RPer. Please, use clear, short, attention getting directions for them. If you want no interactions with them, put right in the description of your blog “RP blog, does not interact with personal blogs.” When you say things like, “personals dni,” or “personals blocked,” you’re not doing anyone any favors. Personal blogs often don’t even know what the hell a personal blog even is! They do not denote themselves this way, to a personal blog, they’re just a blog. By designating first that you are an RP blog, you’re making it clearer that they’re the personal; they’re obviously not an RP blog, so that must make them a personal. Follow this up in a pinned post, right on top. Give a note to personal blogs that describes them as “any blog that isn’t an RP blog” first, then either tell them in brief what they can and can’t do or that you don’t interact and will block.

I don’t recommend taking your blog off of being findable, however. That’s alright once you have the RP activity you are looking for, but until then, it’s working against you. Other RP blogs cannot easily find you either, they will only find you if you’re on a list or appear in their recommended blogs, if you interact with a mutual, or are recommended by a mutual. You’re not just lessening your chances of personal blogs finding you, so if you have that turned off, turn it back on.

Don’t entirely rely on others finding you regardless, though. You can’t be 100% passive when you have no interactions, and by relying solely on serendipity you’re far less likely to get them. I know that everyone here is terminally shy, but seriously, you have to do more than put your silent will into the universe that someone perfect find you. You have to make this happen. Once you get a few people, you can afford to be more passive. Not only do you have some people to write with, you will be more visible to their mutuals, and more established as a presence. I’m not saying this is easy, or that it will become easy, not awkward or stressful, if you have a legitimate issue behind the shyness. Just that it is the only way to really proceed, and I believe you can do it!

So, go looking for interesting blogs. Be crossover and OC friendly (again, this doesn’t mean “accept everyone,” there are valid reasons for not accepting people you won’t work out with that have nothing to do with their fandom or being an OC), and search those fandom’s RPCs, following any blogs you think you might work out with upon reading their rules and other pages. Search for fandomless OCs and do the same thing. Fandomless OCs aren’t just floating around in the ether, they just weren’t created expressly for a particular fandom and within its confines. What is excellent about that is their ability to have a wide variety of verses and many possibilities to fit into any fandom or verse. So, don’t count them out solely on the basis of being an OC and fandomless. It doesn’t mean what people seem to think it does!

Do not stop at having followed 50 blogs. I mean, other than that you probably should stop following people for a bit. That you should do, as you need to be building writing relationships here, not following so many people that you cannot get to them. Don’t just stop at the follow, though. Since you’ve read their rules and information like a good RP partner, you should have some idea of what their interests are and where they align with yours, as well as how they prefer to be approached, if they accept memes right away to start, need plotting, have a rules password. When they’ve followed you back, proceed with interaction!

Ask if they’d like to plot when they have time, you’re really looking forward to writing with them. But...have some idea of a plot, please. It is a serious turn off to have someone message you wanting to plot, only to reply and get “lol I don’t have any ideas, anything works for me/whatever you want to do.” That isn’t plotting, it’s one party coming up with ideas and constructing a plot while they’re being told “I’m fine with anything.” That may be true, but it’s disheartening and a red flag for many people. If you genuinely can’t come up with anything, pick verses that match up well and suggest doing something within them.

“When you have the time, would you be interested in discussing writing? I was looking at your verses, and I think your verse -name- and mine, -verse name-, would mesh well.” Is a good way to start. Once you have a discussion flowing about the verses meshing and the muses, it’s typically easy to organically develop some plot ideas to go off of.

If both you and the other mun are alright with plot-free interaction and memes, you can send a meme any time. If you can’t find any memes on their blog, look for a wishlist or navigation page that shows you the tags for memes/wishlist. Still can’t find it? Ask them if they’ve got a wishlist or meme tag you can look through.

Additionally, if open starters are a thing you both do and are alright with, find some of theirs and respond. Post your own, tag it appropriately to be found in general and on your blog, and reblog it once or twice. Don’t excessively reblog it, and don’t get upset on the dash if no one interacts with it or any memes you reblog. Both are demanding to outright guilting, and not a good way to get partners. Just provide them with the ability to easily interact by making the posts available in the first place and by making them findable on your blog search and navigation.

Provide something for potential partners to see. Since you said you already do have writing, that’s great! That’s content on your blog that your partners can view. However, since you’re also having the issues you’ve stated, it’s likely that you haven’t many new posts. Show that you are active, interested in being here, and how you write your muse (and in general) by posting some newer content. For original content, do a headcanon or some meta, or post about new verses you are adding, the changes on your blog, a promo. For reblogs, things pertaining to your muse like canon imagery, fanart, quotes from canon or that generally express your muse, and aesthetics relevant to your muse are all excellent things to queue.

Use that queue. Not only do very few people appreciate having dash spam of similar content for the comparatively short time you might be around, but also, running these things on a queue means you spread that out for maximum view. While there are hours of heavier activity, you’ll have mutuals who are on at unusual hours due to their life and preferences or their timezone. This way, you’re not appearing inactive, if not outright invisible, to those mutuals. It’s not a bad idea to use a queue tag so that people know if they interact with a post that’s been queued, you might be here to quickly respond.

Ultimately, to fix your fandom and lacking partners problem, you just need to up your availability and reach beyond that fandom alone. Be proactive in following and approaching, decline blogs based on not working out only, utilize tags and fandom RPer lists, have everything on your blog easy to follow and not overwhelming, and have your verses meet as wide of a range of people as possible while also not being overwhelming.

Try updating your promo, as well, by the way. They’re not dead, they just really tanked when people kept making them based solely on aesthetic principle instead of being at all informative about the muse. They do seem to be coming back, so it’s a thing to consider.

Yes, make it visually appealing, it will draw people to reading it. No, do not just use a song lyric or quote with words highlighted linking your rules, verses, bio. Tell people basic info like the age of your muse and yourself, if you are multiverse and multiship, your muse’s canon verse and a couple of big interest verses of other major fandoms or themes that tend to be of interest to people, and what kind of RP you write - one line/para/multipara/novella. Absolutely give links to rules, verses, bio, and either memes, wishlist, or open starters, but give them just like that; make it very clear what this link is to. Put a very short statement of interest on there denoting that you’re expanding to new fandoms and looking for writing partners.

Do not sound desperate, demanding, or devaluing of yourself. Don’t say shit like “because my fandom is dead,” “trying this before I give up and delete my blog,” or “I suck at interaction/writing/ooc interaction/being a person but welp giving it a try, so follow and hit that heart.” (Conversely, calling yourself derogatory things and implying that your partners are too, such as the “we’re all just losers here” shit.) All of the above are not attractive, and they’re not even surprising enough to stand out anymore. It’s another reason to scroll right by that promo because nothing at all was different or of interest.

And as a wrap-up/rehash of the first topic, getting muse back: try starting over at the beginning by approaching the media involving your muse that has really stuck with you emotionally over the years, and exploring and developing your muse again.

Don’t tell yourself you can only write, for example, at home, on the laptop, after 7pm, and with a pop toy staring at you. The best thing about writing, as opposed to so many other hobbies, is that you can do it anywhere! So, do that. Do it any time you both feel the inspiration to do so and aren’t going to get fired or expelled for it. This isn’t work, it’s something enjoyable that does take effort (like literally all creative activities and skills do), but approaching it as though you need to follow novel writing advice from someone who has never published anything of note and isn’t you on the internet, with strict rules for success makes it feel that way. So does being frustrated with a dead fandom, no interaction. It’s disheartening, feels as annoying and fruitless as work often does. You probably need to break out of that mindset, and you can only do it by beginning to allow yourself to be creative on your own terms, entirely for yourself.

Do write simple things at first that you are inspired to do (you can’t get a scene out of your head, or a bit of dialogue), and/or headcanon/character development memes and question lists. Build from there as you get back in touch with your muse, writing things primarily or entirely for yourself still. Expanding on headcanons, doing some meta, or maybe writing out a missing piece of canon or what you’d be interested in seeing happen in canon if some event was altered.

Doing this sort of thing, you are getting in touch with your muse again and back into the real spirit of writing creatively, simultaneously.

Whatever you find most inspiring, do it. If it’s watching the movie or show again, do that, have it on while you write or simply think on the character’s actions, thoughts, and emotions during those scenes. If it’s reading the material again, do that, and read snippets of personal importance before you write. Maybe it’s some past playlists you can have on while writing, or even while you’re cleaning, walking the dog, driving or riding somewhere. It could even be your own previous writing! Go ahead and re-read that, it sounds like you still appreciate it, and that’s truly promising. If you find that you’re horrified by some of the things you’ve written in the more distant past, hey...that’s not just valid as hell, it’s natural. You know what else it is? An inspiration. You can clearly see that you could do better, that means you now know how to do better and are ready to do so. Validate yourself, prove it to yourself by rewriting or fixing something.

Don’t delete the blog or archive it. It is unpleasant to have a dead blog around, but don’t keep it dead. Use the same blog and simply transition it into wider things that will net you more partners and the interactions you deserve.

Look, even if you weren’t the most popular blog in your fandom before it went quiet, you really appreciated the blog, muse, and writing you were doing. You’ve defined that it wasn’t something you did to cause this situation, you just had the shit luck we all run into eventually of being in a fandom that ran out of material or interest. People are really fickle, so by taking a wider approach and fixing on the writing and muse instead of fandom now, you’re stopping this from repeating. Seriously, on a long enough timeline, every fandom dies or goes into hibernation. If you make a whole new blog with a different muse, it is going to happen again eventually.

So, don’t feel like you’re ridiculously clinging to the past and need to move on, you’re just sticking to something and can continue to stick to it through the next five fandom deaths. Just because it is the most popular thing to do to drop muses, constantly add new ones, and have this attitude that you can “blog refresh” your way out of recurrent, and inherent, problem doesn’t mean it is actually the right thing to do. It’s not even the most sensible, and certainly not the best thing to do with anything you’ve spent time and effort on.

That’s your incentive; yourself, the time and care you’ve put in, and your continued interest in writing and the muse. You’ll find good people, and bluntly, everyone else can fuck right off when you’re incentivized by yourself. It becomes a self-fulfilling activity at that point, I swear, and it feels really nice.

Just get back in touch with your muse and writing itself so that you can begin to expand and start interacting again!

[citruscloudsandmoon]

Hello! I love your blog and I'm happy to see that you ship L and Misa. I am working on my first fanfic of them. Do you have any advice/headcanons for L pining after Misa? There are a lot of fanfics where it's focused mainly on Misa chasing/pining for him. Thanks!

Anon honey………I purple you for loving my blog. Thank you so much :’D :*

Hmm…..how to answer this without giving away my plotlines? xD 

asdbajsfbsdf!!!!  Hehe, don’t mind me. Noni here is more than happy to help you :’D I am actually flattered that you are asking me for an advice at the first place, you are too nice anon ;D Besides, we lxmisa shippers are so rare T_T all more the reason why WE MUST STICK TOGETHER!!!!      

*WARNING* Answer went way too long than i expected. So please keep a glass of water or a bar of chocolate nearby :3 

To begin with anon; you are lucky. That is death note never really told us how L was towards romance or affection in general, so you have a free situation here. You can either make L a lovesick type or the one who literally has no idea what the hell ‘love’ is but likes it anyway. Or one of those types that are afraid of catching feelings but eventually are enveloped by it.  In other words, you got the full reins in imagination when it comes to making L fall in love with Misa :3 There’s no stopping and there shouldn’t be!

My headcanons/Advices

*Songs* - Love is a waste of time (Falling in love)

A very lively song of my all-time favorite movie; PK. Even though it’s hindi, but I am inserting the link where there’s an English translation of it, so you won’t have any problem understanding it. In this video, it shows an alien (guy) falling in love with the girl. Now I understand, L isn’t an alien and the girl is nothing like Misa, but take my word anon, once you watch the MV, you would understand what I am referring to. It will give you ideas and prompts as well! The MV is very cute and if you have time, please watch the movie as well. It’ such a remarkable film!   - Everyone knows Juanita (longing)

I am sure anon, you must have watched coco. And if you have watched coco, I am pretty much sure you must have come across a scene where Hector was singing this lullaby. A bittersweet song where the last lines are so apt on L’s situation. I imagined L feeling this way once he realizes that he’s in love with Misa but he can’t get her because he’s not perfect.   - Filter – Jimin (Yearning)

As much the tune of this song sound racy, don’t be beguiled by it. It’s a sad song. A song about fixing myself according to what you prefer; I will change my style, my way of talking, hence the title ‘filter’. I was planning to write gloomy drabbles for it, some sort of theatre style, where L tries to change his appearance, just so Misa could accept him. So change he would according to what Misa wants, just so he can be her picture perfect boyfriend. What?! Don’t look at me! I know we all crave for angst moments for our otp. Mine happened to be this one.   *Headcanons*  - He watches her:  L stares (when he doesn’t? lol). But he stares, not only at appearance. He’s seeing more than that. He watches how the sunlight catches her hair, making it appear like gold silk. He watches how the black of her dress looks so striking against her porcelain skin. He notices just how tiny her feet are, but so is the rest of her whenever he stands near her. He remembers her scent despite it being so faint. She reminds him of so many things; a poetry waiting to be completed, of warm orange colored roses, the soft tingling of wind chimes, of silver and ribbons, of caramel flavor, of bright spring mornings, of starry skies, of dew scattering from leaves and of color red……so much red.    Misa was same, yet each day L would come across a new facet of her which he would collect, keeping them safe in the delves of his memories. She became his muse. And while most of the muses run out their use in their due course of time, Lawliet was sure of this that Misa was that muse that would haunt him even in afterlife.   - He comes to her to calm his nerves: Yeah I know, L and Light were chained together, but in my story, Light gets to go to university under a close supervision. Hence L was free to roam around. L wasn’t the one to take breaks, but they became more frequent when the Kira case was just giving them dead ends. Depressed, the detective would roam inside the humongous building listlessly, only to end up outside the door of Misa’s apartment. He wasn’t sure how he got there, but he let himself, uninvited.     Misa of course wasn’t pleased, wary that he might be here for more questioning, but once L reveals that he’s not, her mood immediately perks up. She doesn’t mind. L then finds himself seated on plush couch while Misa busied herself; arranging film scripts in order, stacking up her shopping, taking calls from the agency. Once she gets free, she sits down, T.V remote in hand, a plate of chopped musambi in another. “Let’s watch some drama Ryuzaki” Misa suggests cheerfully. They do watch. The play was heavily clichéd though much to surprise of L he finds it engaging. Plus Misa’s reactions and those sweet musambi bursting into his mouth were nice additions. In days to come, it becomes a routine. They didn’t watch K and J dramas all the time. Sometimes Misa practiced her dialogues with him. Sometimes they played board games. Mostly it was about being in each other company. They would be sitting side by side. Sheets would be slipping from Misa’s lap, as she sketched away in her notebook, humming softly while L would admire the freshly coated nail art on his fingernails. He wasn’t an aesthetic person to begin with, but for once he really liked his hands. They looked so pretty. Misa did such a wonderful job. Those lazy autumn days didn’t exactly cheer lift his spirits up. But they didn’t bring them down either. If anything, it kept him afloat. It made him forget the Kira case for a few hours. Spending time with Misa made him come across this epiphany that life was normal somewhere. She became his tonic.      - L would make sure that Light and Misa aren’t buried next to each other (wrathful): In another hc of mine (not sure when I will jot this down), L is fully convinced that Light Yagami is Kira and Misa the second Kira, despite not finding any evidence on the former one. And so, he passes the execution order on them. Light Yagami is desperately pleading for mercy. It’s understandable. Misa surprisingly is calm. L is curious. He asks her to which she says dreamily “But why should I be afraid? When I know after this, Misa and Light can finally be together……”   Her words did something to him. L didn’t know what, but all of a sudden he became irate, livid. He was seething with rage. Being a logical person, L should have dealt with his emotions. He would have come up with a valid explanation behind his unexplainable anger. Except he didn’t. Right now, he was sure of one thing; He was making this too easy for them. And he wasn’t going to allow that. And so, after the order was carried out, L didn’t let the funeral services bury the couple next to each other, despite Misa’s special request. Misa was buried on a plot, that could easily accommodate two bodies. One was occupied. Another was empty. It shall get filled, when death will come for L. Okie, but wow that became too dark, didn’t?

I got another one, you know to end things on nice note ;D L had seen Misa modeling pics alright. He even collected some of them. But he has never seen her do the modeling. One day he does, when Light was supposed to pick Misa from her workplace because Matsuda was taken somewhere else. L as per deal got tagged along. The last of the shoots was happening. Light and L were sitting on the park bench, waiting. Light was replying to texts on his cellphone while L watched the shooting. It was a wedding shoot. Misa was wearing a stunning white gown, tiara set perfectly on her head, holding a bouquet of fresh lilies. She looked just like any typical bride would.  But when the director started instructing, did the magic happened. Misa twirled around, the dress opening up like an orchid unfolding its petals. She threw the bouquet in air, gaze fixed towards the sky, her smile wide. She started to run, the train of her veil trailing behind her. In the midway, she slowed down and slightly turned her head like she was instructed to. She directly made an eye contact with L. L was petrified. Eyes appearing brighter than usual, the curled golden strands of her hair framing her angelic face perfectly, a sweet smile on her lips………Misa was a sight to behold. It was fable alright, but now L knows why the past sailors fell for sirens. They enchanted you. Also, that was the moment when L finally fell for Misa.   I guess this is it. Good Luck on writing your story and once you post it, please let me know :3 Noni wants to read it :D <3    And also, i apologize for answering this so so late! Last month just had been too much, it left me emotionally and physically drained T_T Sorry :(   

[megamegaturtle]

mon chou, mon chou, mon chou

pairing - draco malfoy/luna lovegood

raitng - m

words - 1,993 (complete)

summary - mon chou:1) A French term of endearment meaning honey or sweetie; literally translates to "my cabbage"2) The time Draco helps Luna steal cabbages from her neighbors

(For the Rare-Pair Judged by the Cover flash comp in the Dumbledore's Armada Discord; Prompt: Crimes and Cabbages; Winner for Host's Favorite)

ao3/ff.net

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Magic thrives in the midnight hours when the world sleeps. Magic is at work, too, when Draco Malfoy knocks on Luna Lovegood’s door. He lingers on her doorstep, nerves fluttering under his skin like both butterflies and bats. Draco longs for fresh air that is not within Wiltshire. He longs for company that sees through him and what he could be rather than his past mistakes and follies.

Draco knocks on the door, the oak firm under his knuckles. The knob twists as if Luna had been waiting on the other side for him. She greets him with the same hospitality she would if she’d provided an invitation.

“I am torn between saying ‘good evening’ or ‘good night’ at this hour,” she muses with a smile. “But, hello, Draco.” Her voice catches between sleeping and awake.

He clears his throat before leaning on her door frame. “Fancy a walkabout, Lovegood?”

She nods and grabs her coat, granting his wish like a creature of the night. Luna leads him down a path only her feet have traveled.

The forest and moon witness them together, standing shoulder to shoulder with all the world’s creatures as their eyes. Down the path they wander, Luna’s hum filling the silence as she carries a basket at her side. They stroll passed a farmhouse before discovering a vegetable patch guarded by Britain’s loneliness scarecrow.

Luna does not fear scarecrows and enters to greet her old friend.  

There’s a hum in the garden and a dance in her step as she inspects the perfect cabbage. She kneels in damp soil and unsheathes her blade. She peels back the outer leaves with tenderness, pats the head, and kisses its forehead like a baby.

“One cabbage, two cabbages, where can I find you? Mon chou, mon chou, mon chou,” she sings, off-key, but sweet.

Draco watches from the edge of the cabbage patch, his dragonhide shoes free of any mud. Her footprints lay heavy in the soil, weaving between pumpkin vines and corn stalks, looping around large, midnight-colored aubergines.

The night stills, but watches with bated breath.

The moon swallows Luna, soaking her in silver. She wears the moonbeams like a cape. Bright blue eyes find his across the darkness, and he can see the smile in them. Eyes are windows to the soul, but Luna’s are only labyrinths.

Draco can’t find any scorn or malice in her mazes.  

“Cabbages don’t pick themselves, Draco,” she says, her voice drifting across the garden as if she speaks for it. Luna’s voice echoes from all corners and looms in his ears.

The soil squelches under his shoes, the sound reminiscent of spongy bodies and bloody puddles. But Luna beckons again and cares not what he remembers. Draco is at her side in fewer steps than he’d assumed, heart hammering out of sync as she serenades the cabbages.

“Three cabbages, four cabbages, oh how’d I’d like to know you. Mon chou, mon chou, mon chou.”

She saws the cabbage’s stem halfway before she snaps it free and the ringing crack reverberates in the air. She does not look at him as she moves onto the next one. It is a dance, the way she dips into a curtsy, her hand fanning out to her side as if she grabs the skirt of a ballgown. She sinks her knees into the soil again, unbothered by the moisture that sticks the fabric to her skin.

Draco sighs and charms his trousers so they don’t get wet. “Why are we stealing cabbages?”

Luna stops ruffling the leaves and gives him a sidelong glance. “Stealing implies we’re taking something that doesn’t belong to us.”

“Well, yes. The family that lives here might think we’re stealing their vegetables.”

She shrugs and returns to her work. “The fairies that live here said we could take whatever we need. They were here first.”

“And you always listen to fairies?”

“Yes. It’d be stupid to cross a fairy. They know things we don’t know. Wizards? We know just as much as them. More even.”

“Because fairies?”

She gazes at him, her head tilted to the side. “Oh, no, Draco,” she states simply, “it’s because you and I are intelligent.”

Draco nods but says nothing. Dirt packs under his fingernails. A rocky piece of soil pinches his skin. He pulls back the cabbage leaves in search of a head that’s smooth and green.

He watches her out of the corner of his eye as Luna walks further into the garden. She squats with some herbs and takes a sprig of mint. She holds it up to night sky, almost as if it is an offering to the moon who watches from her palace amongst the stars.

Draco isn’t sure when he came to her side again, but he was not called to be. He lowers himself beside her and plucks the herb from her hand, placing the sprig of mint behind her ear like a flower. Luna blinks with surprise, her hand gently touching the leaves as if rose petals.

“Thank you,” she whispers, wearing a faint smile. “This will help me keep cool.”

“Are you feeling warm?”

He tries to rest a hand on her forehead, but Luna jumps up and away, leaving Draco kneeling in the mud alone.

Her gaze is to the sky, her arms overhead as if she’s stretching. “Sometimes, I feel very warm when I’m with you. You take all the coolness when you occlude.”

The stare of the forest weighs heavily on Draco’s shoulders, the expectations haunting him from the shadows.

“All set?” he asks.

Luna fastens the buttons of her coat. “As a bone will ever be.”

The forest’s stare lingers as they walk along to Luna’s cottage. She still wears her spring of mint as if a treasured jewel. Her hum and their footsteps the only noise in the silence. 

She invites him inside as if he has always belonged inside her cottage in the dead of night. The moonlight pushes him forward and closes the door as he crosses the threshold. Together, they place their harvest on her modest table. A warm fire crackles in the corner.

They scrub their hands in more silence at her sink. A cauldron bubbles on her counter with a nondescript potion. It smells like springtime and fresh lemon despite that autumn is to be winter next month.

“You have not slept,” Luna says.

“You steal vegetables from your neighbors,” he replies.

“Only wizard neighbors. Fairies gave permission.”

Draco swallows. “Do I—can I—” he says, but then stops.

He closes his eyes and inhales. The warmth of the cottage settles into his bones. Luna taps the counter in a steady rhythm that soothes his heart. He opens his eyes and gives her a deprecating smile.

“What is the unknown?”

Her lips purse together, and she rests a hand on her chin. She does not blink when she answers, the universe wide in her eyes. “The absence of known, but it has its own siren call.”

He laughs. “What does that even mean?”

Her gaze softens. She steps closer. The moonlight filters through her window, and outlines of enchanted wings rest on her back. “It means that I forgive you and I want you,” she says. “It means your unknown is known.”

Draco stops breathing for a second, but then confidence awakens in his chest. “Does that mean I can steal a kiss, mon petite chou?” 

She chuckles quietly. “Stealing implies it’s not yours.”

In the moments that don’t add up, Draco crosses the arm’s length between them, kissing Luna on the mouth. She smells of mint and soil, but her touch is fire on his skin as she cups his face. He buries his fingers in her fine hair and their bodies meld together.

“Sleep with me,” she commands, and he obeys.

Like her muddy footprints, their clothes trail them as they make their way to her bed. He trips trying to get out of his trousers, and she is there to catch him with calm yet sturdy arms. They laugh as they fall into bed, her lips peppering his face with kisses. They are only vested in their undergarments.

He settles into the plush comforter, the scent of lavender encompassing them both. She leans over him, her hair a silky curtain that tickles his bare shoulder. Luna traces the soft skin under his eye. “I’m so happy that you’re here.”

He grasps her hand and kisses her palm. “You’re too good for me, Luna.”

“I am only as good as one’s idea of morality. To me, we are both good. I wouldn’t invite you in otherwise.”

Adoration wells in Draco’s chest, and he pushes himself up to kiss Luna again. He takes his time and savors each moment. There is no rush or need for frantic passion as his hands trail down the curve of her spine. He unclasps her bra and relishes in the feeling of her chest against his.

She giggles as he lightly glides his hand across the dip of her waist, but then he tugs her knickers off without a care in the world.

“Perfect,” he whispers with reverence. “Absolutely perfect.”

Luna does not hide her body and preens under the praise. Her fingers trace his forearm as she spreads her legs open. Her arousal perfumes the air.

“Touch me, please.”

In the soft glow from the moon, Draco teases her warm slit. His fingers slide inside her with ease, and there is nowhere more he’d rather be. He kisses her neck as he pumps his fingers inside of her, enjoying the way she moans. Her hand finds her clit, and together they bring her pleasure. She presses hard onto herself, her fingers moving in precise circles she’s traced a thousand times.

Draco matches her pace, the tension in the room mirrored in the locking bones of her body. Luna fucks herself on his fingers, and their hands bump into each other’s. She stops breathing, her back curving off the mattress. She smiles to the moon hiding behind the roof, her free hand intertwined with Draco’s. Her hips jerk, the tension of her body snapping as she rocks into his hand in a slowing descent. Her content sigh as she opens her eyes reminds him of a gentle breeze at the seashore.

With a breathy laugh, she reaches for him and palms his cock through his briefs. “Hi.”

He kisses her chest, sucks on the spot above her heart until he’s left a mark. Her fingers find his hair as he shimmies out of his pants. With a lightness that only comes with hearing Luna’s breath in his ears, Draco allows the warmth to encircle him as he enters her. He feels worthy of this moment, feels that he belongs to the witch beneath him.

Luna crosses her legs behind him and forces him to bottom out inside of her. She giggles as he groans into her neck, her hands gripping his shoulders to draw him closer. He rocks into her slowly, taking his time as the concept disappears. There is only now, only the feeling of Luna under him, meeting him stroke for stroke.

She touches herself again, blunt nails smooth against his cock as he fucks her. She squeezes tight, and Draco wonders if these are how constellations are made. Supposes the stars above come from moments where two people join as one. Her breath hitches again, her back curving. Her nipples skim across his skin.

“Draco,” she whispers, a ghost of a kiss on his shoulder.

Draco holds her tighter, finds her mouth to swallow her moans, steals her breath because she’s given it to him. He comes with her lips cool across his, her tongue soft and saliva sweet as she orgasms. He can feel her heart beating hard as he cuddles into her chest, finding home and purpose where his future has no crime, except for stolen cabbages.

[starship-squidlet]

 “I’m going to pogo stick my way out of here”

Ahhh I’m sorry it took me so long to write this!!! I set it in the Theatre AU, so I hope that’s okay, and I hope you enjoy it!

Prompt from this list

Word count: 1,075

“Ugh,” Elaine groaned, heaving a misshapen plastic bin stuffed full of fabric up onto the cutting room table. “This is my least favorite thing.”

“I thought you said you liked inventory,” Sarah laughed, already marking off a new section on the sheet of scrap paper in front of her. “What’s this one?”

“Uh… Polar fleece, bin two of three.”

“Two of three?”

“Yeah, but… Where are the other two?”

On the floor on the other side of the room, Crutchie laughed. He was surrounded by piles of jewelry that he was sorting, reorganizing, and inventorying for the updated costume storage binder that the three of them were working on. They had quickly discovered that very little of the organizational “system” in the cutting room—or costume storage in general, which was also spread over the sewing and receiving rooms on the third floor, as well as most of the basement two floors down—made any sense, and was horribly out of date, as things had been thrown out and added to storage without being logged in the inventory lists. Fabric storage was possibly the worst off, and Elaine and Sarah had been slogging through the wall full of storage bins for almost the entire week, pulling out, measuring, logging, and refolding fabric cuts, swatches, and scraps, while Crutchie sorted through endless drawers, smaller bins, and other storage containers full of things like pocket squares, jewelry, socks, undershirts, and much more.

In the rest of the theatre, the boys on the crew were doing similar work. Jack and Albert had been pulled by Weisel for props organizing, and were up to their elbows in dust and dirt in the storage hole above stage left. Jack pulled a plastic bin off of a shelf and began to sputter and cough as a cascade of dust and a handful of dead bugs poured off down onto his head. “Gross,” he groaned, trying to brush it off, onto the floor instead of the other props around him.

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Albert made a face as he ran a finger across the top of a toy drum, leaving a streak in the layer of dirt there.

“Why do we keep some of this stuff?” Jack asked, opening the offending bin to reveal that it was stuffed full of cheerleader’s pom-poms.

“Christmas stuff needs to be saved because shows are recycled, and you never know what you might need for them when they get redesigned anyways,” Albert droned, repeating the line that they heard regularly from Weisel and the other authority figures around them when similar questions were posed. “And other stuff is really the same thing: you never know when you might need it again.”

“How often do we really need cheerleading pom-poms?” Jack asked, holding one up and shaking it, the plastic rustling.

“Well, we did just use some for Ovation, last summer,” Albert mused. “None of those, obviously.” Both boys laughed, Jack shoved the pom back into the bin, and placed it on their pile of “things to ask Weisel if we can please throw away”.

.*.*.*.*.*.

That afternoon, as the crew was wandering out of the theatre into the brisk winter air—not cold enough to need anything more than a light jacket, and a few of the boys weren’t even wearing those—they were chattering cheerfully amongst themselves, happy to be out in the bright sun and fresh air.

“Hey, Laine, Crutchie,” Jack grinned, appearing between his roommates and slinging his arms around their shoulders as they headed for the front of the building to walk home. “You guys find anything cool today?”

“Check it out!” Elaine said, holding up a misshapen white tophat, the tags still attached. “Brand new. They couldn’t use it for the show they bought it for, ‘cause it was so messed up, so Weisel said I could keep it. It was going to get thrown out otherwise, because of the way the brim is warped and stuff. Perfectly good—well, not good, but useable—and brand new.”

“What are you going to do with it?” Jack asked.

“I dunno,” Elaine shrugged. “But it’s cool.”

Jack laughed.

“What about you?” Crutchie asked. “You guys find anything cool or weird or whatever?”

“Oh, yeah; check it out.” Jack pointed across the parking lot, towards Finch, Elmer, JoJo, Albert, and Race clustered together near their cars, laughing about something. As they watched, Albert’s head popped up over everyone else’s, bobbed up and down a few times, and then Race and JoJo lunged to catch him as he fell.

“What is that?” Elaine laughed.

“Come on,” Jack grinned, steering the other two towards the group.

As they got closer, the object Albert was holding became visible: a pogo stick.

“Where did you find that?” Crutchie asked as Albert started to climb back up onto the device, JoJo hovering worriedly behind him in case he fell again.

“Props hole, over stage left,” Albert grunted as he took a test hop forward. When he didn’t immediately fall over, he kept going, making it almost a full six feet before losing his balance and starting to fall.

“Albert,” Elaine groaned. “You’re going to kill yourself.”

“Or at least break something,” Finch grumbled.

“No, I’m not,” Albert grunted as he untangled himself from the pogo stick. “I’m going to pogo stick my way out of here.”

“Pogo stick your way to death, more like,” Race laughed.

“Oh, ye of little faith!” Albert retorted.

“I’m literally watching you right now. I have the appropriate amount of faith.” ”I’m getting better,” Albert protested.

“That’s what everyone says,” said Finch, “right before they fall and break their face.”

“I feel doubted,” said Albert.

“Oh, one hundred percent,” said Finch. “The only thing I don’t doubt right now is that you’re going to get hurt.”

Albert stuck his tongue out and started to climb back up onto the pogo stick, only to immediately start to fall towards the asphalt, a look of horror frozen on his face. JoJo scrambled to try and catch him, the others lunging uselessly forward with no way to cross the distance in time to help, but he managed to get a foot down to partially catch himself to avoid slamming into the pavement.

“You okay?” JoJo asked, helping Albert once again untangle himself from the pogo stick.

“Yeah,” Albert laughed sheepishly. “Maybe you guys are onto something. There’s a slight possibility I should get some pads before I try and master this thing.”

[xxbyimm]

The knight and the princess - Fíli x reader - Modern AU

Link to my Masterlist.

This was a prompt I originally received from @saviorsong​ yesterday: next-door neighbor trope with the line ‘That won’t work, Try again’. As I wrote down most of this in bed last night, this piece expanded from a short drabble into a short fic of more or less 1500 words. I don’t know what happened and I don’t regret it. As I try to be less brutal about the level of perfection my work has to achieve to be worthy, I try to NOT edit my oneshots endlessly. So bear with me on that, and I hope y’all enjoy.

The knight and the princess - Fíli x Reader

Summary: Friday night. The reader tries to set up her new surround sound system, but it turns out to be harder than expected. Luckily friday night also means her favorite next-door neighbor comes over. MODERN AU.

Warnings: Fluff, bit of cursing.

Taglist: @soradragon​ @pistachiozombie​ @legolaslovely​ @tomisbaeholland​ @swoopswishsward​ @fizzyxcustard​ @deepestfirefun​ @ruthoakenshield​ @mariannetora​ @thequeenoferebor​  If you don’t wish to be tagged anymore, please let me know! Or if you’re not on the list and want to be tagged: check out my lists and I’d like to hear which list you want in on!

It shouldn’t be this hard. Literally anyone could do it. At least, that was what the people at the store had told you. And the delivery girl. Even the helpdesk guy had told you the same, though he even had the nerves to inquire ‘if you had read the instruction manual’.

Of course you did! You weren’t stupid, you were an grown-ass woman -damn it- and you could take care of yourself.

‘It’s not hard, ma’am.’ The guy repeated for the zillionth time. ‘Just put the red cable-’ ‘And I told you there is NO RED CABLE!’ you hissed back, exasperated by the fact that this person refused to listen. ‘There has to be.’ He mumbled. ‘Because otherwise you won’t be able to connect the tv with the left box.’ ’Okay, you know what…’ you grumbled. ‘I think this doesn’t get me any further than it already did.’ ‘But have you checked the package the system came in?’ You let out a strangled groan. ‘Of course I checked it!’ ‘You sure?’ the guy pressed. ‘Because more than often, our clients-’

You ended the call, just before you would have battered those poor worker’s ears with the most vile curses in the English vocabulary. It wasn’t his fault, you knew that. He probably had to stick to a protocol anyway and you were too impatient to follow such bureaucratic nonsense. But still, he wasn’t the proud owner of a surround sound system that was nowhere to near to be connected with the rest of your setup.

You heaved a sigh and eyed the chaos around you. There were cables everywhere and the manual lay crumpled on the couch. Six sound boxes were scattered across the room, waiting patiently to be put in their new place. Oh, and you weren’t even talking about all of the packaging it had arrived in! Ugh. You were ready to give up, even if it meant you couldn’t enjoy your favorite movie with some proper sound effects tonight. Whatever that meant anyway. This hadn’t been your idea.

Defeated, you strolled towards the kitchen. The least you could do, was reward yourself with a glass of wine. You opened the fridge and nearly jumped when someone knocked on the kitchen window. When you quickly turned your head to see who was disturbing you, your eyes met the dreamy blue ones of your next-door neighbor, Fíli. He was holding a bottle of wine and winked at you. His golden locks radiated in the sun and for a moment, you once again appreciated how handsome the bastard was. He obviously liked to take care of himself, as his blonde, shoulder length hair was almost more soft than yours and his beard was trimmed into perfection. Normally you weren’t into mustache braids, but the way this guy sported those made your legs weak. Fíli was wearing a simple, blue t-shirt with a V-neck that showed off some of his chest hair. You sincerely hoped that he had not paired it with his favorite jeans, because otherwise you’d spent all night gawking that fine ass.

‘Hey, Y/N!’ Fíli called, his eyes twinkling mischievously. ‘You’re going to let me stand here all night?’ You smiled and moved to the door to let him in. Because of all the hassle, you almost had forgotten it was Friday night. A few months ago, when you were new in this neighborhood, Fíli had swung by to say hello. In hindsight, you had lost your heart that night on your doorstep, though you had denied it for months after. It wasn’t a coincidence that the two of you had developed a habit of spending Friday nights together, since both of you highly enjoyed each other’s company over going out in search of love. In addition, Fíli was one hell of a chef in his spare time.

‘How are you faring, love?’ Fíli inquired while kissing your cheek. ‘How was work?’ ‘Ah. It was fine.’ You replied, closing the fridge and reaching for your fancy wine glasses in the cabinet. ‘My boss was a total pain in the ass, though that’s nothing new.’ Fíli smirked. ‘What’s the old toad up to now?’ A giggle escaped you and you shot him a glance. ‘You know you can’t call her that! What if I say that while at work? She will have my head!’ ‘Ah, but then all you have to do is to call upon your knight to save you.’ He told you while opening the bottle and pouring some wine. ‘I have a knight?’ you wondered. ‘Why hasn’t he informed me yet? I would spare me loads of trouble.’ Fíli shrugged, his eyes flashing briefly over your face. ‘Maybe he’s been a coward and doesn’t know how to show it’s him.’ ‘Selfish bastard.’ You muttered, too engrossed in the red liquid pouring into your glass to notice. ‘Anyway, no matter. I don’t need a knight.’ ‘Not even in shiny armor?’ ‘No.’ You groaned. The last guy you had gone on a date with a few months ago, had those ridiculous old-fashioned standards that you possibly couldn’t and wouldn’t meet. Naturally, the date had been a disaster when you straight up told him you refused to settle for a ‘woman’s place is in the kitchen’ kind of relationship.

Fíli took a sip and leaned against the counter. ‘I don’t get why the women get the knights, and us men have to settle for the princesses.’ ‘You want a knight, eh?’ you grinned, grateful for the fact that your friend hadn’t noticed you mentally had visited the dreadful topic of your dating life. ‘Exactly.’ He nodded vigorously. ‘Someone who can battle dragons, command legions.’ ‘And take over the world?’ you filled in. ‘Bend every civilization to your will?’ Fíli laughed and lazily moved towards the living room. His blue eyes burned through yours and you bit your lip. ‘Those are your words, milady, not mine.’ He purred as he disappeared in the hallway.

You winced when you discovered that he was, in fact, wearing his (and your) favorite pair of jeans. Damn that fine ass!

‘I said I wanted a knight.’ Fíli went on, obliviously to your appreciative glances. ‘A knight, Y/N, not a- Mahal’s hairy balls! What happened here?’

Oh Mahal’s hairy balls indeed. You had forgotten about the ground zero in your living room. You turned the corner. Fíli was eyeing the chaos with an amused smirk. ‘Is that the surround sound system I recommended to you?’ he asked. ‘Yeah.’ You said. ‘But I wasn’t finished just yet. I merely went to the kitchen to get myself some wine.’ ‘Finished with what?!’ Fíli grinned. ‘Wreaking havoc?’ ‘Oh, you ass! I was getting there!’ ‘Yeah?’ Fíli gestured at the pile of cables on the carpet. ‘That won’t work. Try again.’ ‘Hmmm.’ You mused while draining your wine in one go and putting the glass aside. ‘If I do that, I will lose my sanity. The helpdesk guy said it was easy, but I beg to differ.’ ‘You even called the helpdesk?’ Fíli chuckled as he grabbed the manual from the couch. ‘You must have been quite desperate.’ ‘I wanted to do this by myself!’ you said fiercely. ‘And I know I can, it’s just…’ ‘It’s not that complicated, once you know what to do.’ Fíli told you. ‘Shall I walk you through it?’ You narrowed your eyes. ‘Are you going to make fun of me in the process?’ He laughed. ‘Maybe a little. But in the end you’re a bloody amazing person and I’m sure you can do anything, if you set your mind to it.’ ‘Don’t mock me.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m not. You’re the proverbial whole package, and I don’t mean that in a patronizing way.’ You lifted a brow. ‘Then in what way?’ He took a step closer. His wineglass still holding in one hand, he gently stroked your cheek with the other. A fond smile was displayed on his face. ‘In a brilliant, I rather spend my free nights with you than going out, because what I want is right there, way.’ Your cheeks were on fire and you lowered your gaze. Your teeth sunk in your lower lip and slowly turned into a mumbling, flushed mess. ‘What? But I’m-’ ‘Y/N.’ Fíli whispered and a soft thud informed you he put his glass on the floor. You didn’t dare to look up, because you knew this moment would turn out to be a) a dream, or b) a cruel joke. So instead, your gaze was fixed on the carpet.

‘Y/N.’ Two sturdy hands cupped your cheeks and gently tilted your head. A pair of dreamy blue eyes came into view and your heart skipped a beat. ‘You have asked me countless times why I had zero interest in dating.’ Fíli began with a faint smile. ‘Now let me answer that one for you: from the moment we met, I haven’t been interested in any other woman, but you.’ ‘Why didn’t you say so?’ you managed to blurt out. ‘Because you’re quite independent.’ Fíli confessed. ‘And it’s one of the things I like that about you.’ ‘Independent doesn’t mean-’ ‘I know that.’ He told you. ‘But I wanted to make sure that you and I match in all the right ways, rather dragging out our worst qualities like some couples tend to do.’ ‘Oh Fíli… Why would you think that?’ ‘I just...’ He heaved a sigh. ‘Fell in love with the wrong person one time, I suppose. After that you get careful.’ You pulled him against you and placed a gentle kiss on his jaw. ‘Sounds like you’re in need of a knight.’ Fíli chuckled. ‘And a damn brave one, I daresay.’ ‘That settles it. I am forever in your service, good sir.’ You grinned. ‘Do you happen to know a princess with technical proficiency?’ Fíli laughed and you reveled in the sound. ‘Oh, Y/N.’ he murmured, his lips ghosting over yours.

And then he kissed you.

Thank you so much for reading my humble story. Feedback is always welcome.  Did you like my work? Spread the love and reblog! :) And here’s my Masterlist.

[sincerelyreidburke]

13 with Cole and Claire

First of all, Toby, I love you. Second, Cole/Claire gang rise. “Wait, Cole and Claire dated?” Yes! The following ficlet is set Cole’s freshman/Claire’s sophomore year, which is the school year before Nando and co. arrive. And in an interesting first, it’s Claire’s POV. Claire, if you do not know her, is from the drama club. She’s one of the nicest people at Kiersey College.

And yes, she dated Cole Kolinsky. I honestly think it’s a crime that she winds up breaking up with Cole Kolinsky, but in Claire’s defense, it’s a mutual decision. And don’t worry; they stay friends.

So without further ado! From this list of sappy prompts. (Yes, I’m still accepting them if you want!)

 13. “The way I feel when I’m with you...”

Claire is having a great birthday.

She knew it would be a good day when she woke up to sunny skies and a forecasted temperature above freezing, which, honestly, it’s about time, since it’s April 18th. Spring has pretty much arrived to campus, and even though this is her second spring at Kiersey, she feels like she maybe almost forgot entirely how pretty it gets. The trees are budding— slowly, but surely— and there are a few flowers coming up— bulb stuff, mostly hyacinth and iris, like they have in the backyard garden at home.

So that’s how her birthday starts— with a smile, a recognition of spring, and a nice breeze through the window, which Ellie opened, by the way, because they’re trying to ‘embrace the outdoors’ in Joy Hall Room 134. Ellie is asleep when she wakes up, because Claire is definitely the earlier riser in their roommate duo, but the second she lifts her curly ginger head from the pillow, the first words out of her sleep-deprived self are, “Happy birthday, legend!”

There are other things in the morning, too— a FaceTime call with her mom, an invasion of said call by her siblings and her dad to say happy birthday, a regular voice call with her grandparents because they can’t work FaceTime, and— maybe sweetest of all— a text.

iMessage

4/18/18, 12:03 AM

Cole💕🎶

helloooooooo don’t yell at me for my poor sleeping schedule choices but its past midnight so happy birthday :) you make me very happy, i hope you have the best day (when you wake up, which i hope isn’t now because it’s way past your bedtime)❤️

She laughs at her screen when she reads it, and can’t really wipe the smile that lingers off of her face. Ellie is awake by that point, and she has some kind of best friend boyfriend-radar, because she immediately pipes up from her bed across the room. “Uh-oh.” Claire looks up, and she’s grinning. Her hair is everywhere, because of the way she slept on it. “Mushy text alert.”

There’s literally no use denying who the text was from, so Claire just shrugs and shakes her head, still smiling. “He just said happy birthday.”

Ellie sits cross-legged, and pulls her duvet around her shoulders. So much for embracing the outdoors. “What time did he send the text?”

“Uh… 12:03?” Claire pauses. “Why does it ma—”

“Because that means he didn’t see it on my story.” Ellie flashes a freckly grin. “Which means he remembered organically. Which already makes him better than He Who Shall Not Be Named.”

“Oh.” She laughs a little. “I guess you’re right. Yeah.” Her ex from freshman year, Devin, was notorious for a number of things, among them forgetting her birthday. Ellie plotted his murder on the regular.

Me: Thank you!💜💜💜

Me: And good morning! I hope you slept well, despite being awake at midnight…

Cole texts her back during breakfast, by which point her day is already pretty much going. She gathers with Ellie and their small circle of friends, mostly hallmates from last year they bonded with really well in the shared terror of freshman housing. They occupy the same table at the dining hall every time they get breakfast, and today, Niamh and Hannah from across the hall bring her a plastic crown and a purple balloon to tie to the back of her chair.

She doesn’t wear the crown to her 10:30 class, tempting as it is. On her way there, she texts Cole again. He’s being cryptic in a cute way, and it’s exciting.

9:04 AM

Cole💕🎶: thankfully yes, i did sleep well, i hope you did too :)

Cole💕🎶: you’re free at 4:30, right?

10:18 AM

Me: Yes!

Me: Why do you ask?

Cole💕🎶: i reserve the right to let you wait to find out

Cole💕🎶: but

Cole💕🎶: you should meet me in the orchard around then

Cole💕🎶: if you want

Me: Omg

Me: Of course I want!🥰🥰

Me: You’re making me excited!

Cole💕🎶: good!

Cole💕🎶: you deserve a good day

Cole💕🎶: ❤️

Me: You’re so sweet🥰🥰🥰🥰

Cole💕🎶: hahaha

Cole💕🎶: have fun in linguistics!!

Me: I will!!💜

She winds up being soft over him for pretty much the whole morning, which is definitely cheesy, but it’s all in the privacy of her head, so nobody needs to know. She runs into Reid at lunch, who does her the hilarious honor of (loudly, badly) singing Happy Birthday and getting a good percentage of the dining hall to join in. In her afternoon theatre class, she hangs out with Zelie, her favorite senior, and then walks out of class to a funny post her brother made for her on Instagram. The sun is still warm, and everything is good.

So it’s already a good day. And then Cole makes it better.

She walks up through campus toward the orchard at 4:30. She’s wearing her favorite outfit, which is maybe not the most important detail but still makes her feel good. It’s a lavender blouse with a black skirt, and fun floral-patterned purple tights. Her flats are maybe not the most sensible choice for walking in the orchard, but at least she doesn’t have to go that far.

Because when she gets to the actual orchard, Cole is already in sight; he’s sitting under a tree. The sight of him alone is enough to make her face warm, and it just gets easier to blush when he raises a hand over his head and waves.

She waves, too, and takes in the sight. Cole has spread a blanket out on the grass, and he has a small grocery bag to one side and his guitar case to the other. There’s a white box next to the grocery bag, and a small bundle of purple irises on top of the box. He’s in a green beanie and a flannel with plaid in the same color, and his smile is soft. “Hey,” he says, as she stops by his blanket. “Happy, uh— happy birthday.”

“Cole,” she laughs, and drops down to sit across from him. “What’s— did you set all this up for me?”

“Well— yeah.” Cole half laughs, as he nods, and pushes his rounded glasses up the bridge of his nose. He is entirely too cute to handle, and Claire is going to melt. “I had a little help, but yeah.” He pauses, shifts the way he’s sitting, and then grabs the flowers. “These— may or may not be stolen from campus grouds, but—”

“They’re beautiful,” she says, before he can finish, and takes them when he holds them out for her. They’re her favorite color, soft purple, and she laughs as she adds, “I think I know exactly where you stole them from, too,” because they look an awful lot like the flowers in the garden outside the student center.

“Just don’t tell campus security,” Cole mumbles.

“I would never.” She puts a hand to her heart, and knows she’s still smiling like a big sap when she meets his eyes. “Thank you. You’re so sweet. These are going in my room.”

“You’re welcome.” His voice is soft, and he’s smiling right back. For good measure, she leans across the blanket to close the small distance between them, and kisses his cheek. This, as it often does, turns his entire face pink. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t do it on purpose, for that reaction. “Uh,” he adds, as the blush floods his cheeks. “So I brought some stuff.”

“It looks like it!” She leans back, to survey the scene on the blanket again. “You did all this by yourself?”

Cole shrugs, gently, and murmurs, “I… may have had a little help. Reid told me this is a good spot for a picnic, but I did the rest.”

“He’s a man of wisdom,” she muses, regarding Reid, and then, as Cole reaches into the grocery bag, adds, “But you are a very sweet boyfriend, and for that I’m very grateful.”

Cole is still blushing, as he roots around in the grocery bag. “Let, uh— let me explain, and then we can eat.”

He walks her through the small assortment of items in the bag— sandwiches on the good, fresh bread from the dining hall, and snacks he bought at the grocery store. The white box has cupcakes inside, but not just any cupcakes— purple cupcakes, with cream cheese frosting, from the bakery in town she loves. She’s about ready to fly in her joy as he explains this to her, rocking back and forth gently as he speaks. “I know there’s a lot,” he says, “but, uh, I thought you could always have the extras some other day. And maybe Ellie would want one?”

“These are my favorite,” she cries, which he obviously knows, because he bought them for her birthday in the first place. “You’re the actual best person alive. Did you know that?”

Cole shrugs. His hair, wispy and light brown, is blowing gently where it sticks out from under his beanie. With the blush under his glasses, and the small smile on his face, he couldn’t be cuter. Claire is sure of it. “I mean,” he mumbles, all bashful and sheepish. “It is your birthday.”

Which is true. But he’s still totally outdone himself. And that’s before he pulls out his guitar.

She eyes it while they eat, but doesn’t ask. She figures he brought it out here for some reason, and he’ll eventually explain, which she turns out to be right about. It would be lying, though, to say that, as they eat, she’s not secretly hoping he’ll serenade her. Cole’s guitar is sort of the whole reason she started liking him in the first place. Not the actual guitar itself, but the way he is when he plays it. He’s super talented, and super cute when he does it, and she first started to notice him when she first heard him play.

So she waits. Patiently. More than a little excitedly. They eat the food he packed, and she tells him about her classes, about her breakfast with the girls, about her serenade from Reid and his impromptu backup singers. The sun shines warm on her shoulders, and he tells her she looks pretty. It’s more than enough to give her butterflies.

She’s eating a cupcake when the guitar finally gets brought up. It’s after a pause in conversation, while she pulls the wrapper off of the cupcake and he takes a deep breath. He’s fidgeting with his hands in his lap, a sign he’s thinking. When he speaks, he’s looking down at his hands. “So, um.”

Claire waits. She puts the cupcake down on a napkin, and nods. “You okay?”

“Oh, I’m— yeah. I’m fine.” Cole’s laugh is gentle, and nervous. He nods, and then takes a deep breath for a second time. “I, uh… I was going to write you a card,” he starts. “I know that’s sort of, like. A thing people do.” He pauses. “But, uh… well… okay, I tried to write a card. Or, like, something like that. But I realized…” He fixes his beanie, and then takes a deep breath for a third time before he finally blurts a bunch of words out at once. “I’m… not good with words in that way, and I honestly, like, I don’t know how to write down the way I feel when I’m with you.”

The butterflies are at it again. Claire knows she’s smiling at him. She might even be blushing, too. And it just gets easier to smile and blush and all that jazz when Cole finishes his ramble with, “So I, uh… I wrote you a song?”

He reaches sideways for his guitar. The case is undone, so all he has to do is throw the top open. “You did?” she asks, because in that moment, she can’t even find the words for the excitement.

“I, uh— yeah.” Cole rests his hand on the neck of his guitar. It’s maybe the most beautiful instrument Claire has ever seen, except her own flute, but she’s sort of biased towards the latter. Cole still looks hesitant, still red in the face. “Is that weird?”

“Oh, my God, no,” she laughs, and shakes her head as she leans forward. “Cole, that’s— that’s maybe the sweetest gesture anyone’s ever done for me?”

“Well,” he laughs, “maybe don’t speak so soon. You haven’t heard the song yet.”

“I’ve heard your other songs.” She could kiss him. She wants to kiss him. She has done that before, a good number of times considering they’ve been together for two months. But right now, she especially wants to. “I can’t even— Cole.” She puts both hands over her face and laughs. “You’re the sweetest boy.”

Cole laughs, too; it’s the same bashful noise she’s gotten so fond of with him. Gingerly, he pulls his guitar from its case, and settles it into his lap. One test strum of a G chord, and she is positive she is going to combust with all the softness.

“Sorry, I, uh—” Cole stops strumming, and shakes his head. “I’ve never actually, uh, played someone a song I wrote them before? Especially not, like, a girlfriend.” He winces at himself. “So this is sort of new for me, and I’m, uh— a little embarrassed.”

“Oh, my God,” she murmurs. “Please do not be embarrassed.”

She guesses that’s enough for him, because he takes another of those huge breaths, and with that, he plays her the sweetest song she’s ever heard.

It’s like watching a little concert that was meant just for her. The lyrics are soft like a love song on the radio; his guitar sound is just… well, there’s nothing like it. In the entire world. Claire is blushing like crazy, and the best part is that he is, too, right through the whole thing, as he looks down at his guitar and sneaks her smiles between verses. When he finishes, she wishes she’d made a voice memo of it on her phone or something. Something to hold onto.

“There is no way,” she breathes, as the last chord hangs in the air, “that you’re a real person.”

Cole laughs, doubling over his guitar. He’s the cutest boy in the world. “I really hope I’m a real person,” he replies, and she wastes no more time. She lunges across the blanket, takes care not to knock the guitar off of him, and grabs his face to kiss him gently. When he smiles against her lips, she thinks her heart is literally going to fly.

How is this happening to her.

“That was so sweet,” she tells him, when she’s looking into his eyes, hazel and dazed behind those cute glasses. “I don’t even know how to thank you.”

“That was a thank you,” Cole breathes, and then adds, “Happy birthday.”

Claire laughs. She presses to his forehead, and then kisses him again.

This is, by far, the cherry on top of the best birthday she’s ever had.

[sapientiiae-a]

@fxmiliarity​​ asked: 🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟 Send 🌟 for a headcanon about our muses’ relationship | accepting

Mun’s note: I posted this prompt, and Lane went and sent me 22 dang stars! I really don’t think they intended for me to in return write up 22 headcanons (or they didn’t expect that I’d actually do it). But here we are! I told myself I’d just do 10. I didn’t think 22 was possible (at least not in a day). But behold!

Yvaine has served as familiar to the reincarnations of the goddess for many life cycles. In Zelda’s studies, she has read of Yvaine, but I think there is a part of her that believed maybe it was just a legend (or exaggeration) or “But who’s to say this legendary familiar will show up this time.” So I imagine Zelda was very shocked/dumbfounded when she first meets Yvaine.

Side note that counts as its own headcanon, I also imagine Yvaine’s arrival was a very grand thing, even though she likely did not intend it to be such? Yvaine just has this demeanor/aura that she radiates, which honestly probably had some of Zelda’s court members stricken with fear at first and probably even had Zelda going “Wait! She’s real?! And she’s….standing…no not standing….TOWERING over me??” Like Yvaine just seems like the person thats presence demands attention when in the room. You just can’t help but to stop and notice her.

When they do finally meet and start to spend time around one another, Zelda enters this really weird internal battle of not knowing what to say to this legendary familiar that she thought may have been myth but also literally wanting to ask a million questions. Her internal monologue is “What do you say to this being that is wisened? Saged? (yes that’s an Iliza Shlesinger joke) She looks like she could step on me and probably has the experience to do so. But I also want to know about this….and this….oh and we can’t forget that….”

I know we’ve discussed this before, but once the contract is made and Zelda finds out? Not good. She’s going to feel so much guilt about it, and it honestly wouldn’t surprise me if she lashes out at Yvaine at first. She’d be very upset with Yvaine because she knew, but she didn’t warn her or try to stop it from happening. Eventually, she will come to terms with it, but she’s going to be very angry/upset with herself for a while so just….expect Zelda to avoid Yve and not talk to her for a while.

When they get into a relationship, Zelda will probably try to keep it hush hush for a while out of fear of what the court will say. Is it appropriate for a princess to fall for her familiar/body guard? Probably not. Plus, I think there’s a part of her that will want it to be just theirs for a while. She doesn’t want the court to know and meddle. She doesn’t want Impa or Link or the generals to find out and form their thoughts or make comments? She doesn’t want the kingdom of Hyrule to start looking to their queen and her new relationship. She just wants to have time to enjoy their time together for a bit without anyone’s input or interference.

But on the flip side of that, once they get into a relationship, Zelda will absolutely spoil Yvaine. She’s a bit reserved with her feelings, but once she falls she falls hard. She’s incredibly loyal. And she knows she’s lived a better life than most just because she happened to be born into a certain family — so anything she can do to make her love’s life easier/better, she will do it no questions asked. Plus, she’ll always view her partner as an equal, so she’ll think they’re worthy of being treated like a king/queen.

This isn’t really a headcanon. It’s more of just something I want but like....Zelda gets injured during battle or something and can’t walk (sprained ankle, too weak, been stabbed, whatever) and Yvaine just has Zelda get on her back so she can carry her back to camp. Yvaine is pretty much a giant, so just imagine how cute it would be seeing an injured Zelda getting a piggyback ride from Yvaine (and probably begrudgingly getting it at that).

When Yve struggles to fall asleep at night, Zelda will do anything to coax her into coming to lay down. Once she finally succeeds, she’ll just lay there and play with Yvaine’s hair for hours, hoping it’ll help her fall asleep because it always helped Zelda when she was growing up.

I think there are some moments, specifically when her and Yve get closer, that she forgets Yvaine is so much older than her. There are times where she’ll forget and have these thoughts of “You’re just a normal (as normal as can be) person like me.” And then she remembers and is like “Oh wait.....” (Also, remembering probably makes her sad sometimes because it’s the realization of “And you’re stuck going through this same cursed cycle as us....but you don’t even get the gift of forgetting the other lifetimes.”

Not a headcanon but an idea. Split timelines are a thing in Zelda, right? And if there’s any game that involves merging of timelines it’s Hyrule Warriors because we see characters from other games in on place. So....what if Zelda accidentally stumbles into an alternate timeline and finds the Yvaine from that timeline? I don’t know but now I can’t get this idea out of my head.

Zelda can be very stubborn. 100% people (who are close to her) have cracked jokes at her along the lines of “I don’t know who is more fiery and hot-tempered. The dragon or you?”

In the AU we discussed where Zelda can remember all her past lives? The moment she finally unlocks those memories and sees Yvaine for the first time, she immediately breaks down into tears.

This one’s based off another conversation we had: Zelda thinks Yvaine’s cooking is even better than the cook’s at the castle. Their cooking is great, but if given the choice she’d choose whatever Yvaine is making.

Zelda taunts/teases Yve a lot when they’re sparring/training together. I don’t imagine it works well since Yvaine seems like the type to compose herself really well, especially when she knows what the princess is doing. But it doesn’t keep Zelda from trying.

Zelda? Using any excuse to pair up with Yvaine as her second when the army has to split up for different missions? Absolutely.

I have decided that Zelda will 100% start calling her Cassiopeia as a pet name/term of endearment. The explanation I provided for it, which can be found here, is just too perfect for me to not stick with this.

Hyrule Warriors Zelda isn’t as....ritzy as some of her previous incarnations. She’s not as into the lavish balls and stuff, probably because so much of her focus is on Hyrule’s forces and keeping the kingdom safe. But you can bet she uses these events as an opportunity to strut around on Yve’s arm and show her off. Yes, show Yve off, not the other way around.

Zelda knows how to play the lyre, and if you think she hasn’t written a song either about Yvaine or for Yvaine, then you’re definitely wrong. Lullabies are a big thing to Zelda, and Yvaine has trouble sleeping, so Zelda has definitely come up with a lullaby on her lyre to play for Yvaine.

I imagine that if Zelda is ever feeling down in regards to her powers (not feeling strong or having issues with her light magic), Yvaine tries to encourage Zelda by talking about Hylia, focusing on how amazing and strong Hylia was and reminding Zelda that she is the goddess reincarnate.

They’re a war couple. They go marching off to battle often, and while Zelda is used to that, it’s still a bit nerve-wracking to think the people she loves are going into a fight that could be life or death for them (even though Yve can’t truly die). But I imagine after the first incident that prompts Zelda to finally confess her feelings, she eventually has a special amulet made (probably something fused with light magic) that she gives to Yvaine as a sort of protection charm to keep her safe. Just something to give Zelda some extra peace of mind.

Once Zelda finds out what Yve’s favorite color is, she tries to find ways to incorporate it into her clothing more (because there’s just something super appealing about seeing your significant other wearing your favorite color). This is actually super easy for Zelda to subtly get away with since the color plum goes so well with her royal attire anyway.

I need to think through this idea and flesh it out more, but I imagine sometime after the events of Hyrule Warriors, Zelda is presented a new rapier that has ‘dragon’ somewhere in the name and was inspired by Yvaine, being that she’s a dragon familiar.

[seaofashes]

This one goes out to @stellarstacey for the following prompt:Cyber Punk/Circus/Christopher/Heavy the head that wears the crown/Love(the emotion I'm going with)

-------

Eddie kept a careful hand on his son as they made their way to the seats. Christopher had been wanting to go to the circus for a while now but Eddie was always busy with work, so when he finally got a day off he thought it'd be a good way to spend it with his son. He'd heard a little bit about Cybertanisa and how impressive it was. All of the animals were completely biomechanical and from what he heard many of the performers were sporting cybernetic limbs and enhancements. Christopher seemed extremely interested in it so what the hell right? Anything to make his boy happy.

They took their seats and waited for the show to start. Christopher was telling him about the biomechanical tigers they use when Eddie caught sight of what he assumed was one of the performers. The man was beautiful, he had blonde hair and piercing blue eyes and a birthmark right above one of his eyes. He was wearing tight black pants and an equally right red and gold vest. The man walked to the center to speak to Ringmaster who nodded to him and blue eyes turned and sprinted off gracefully.

"Isn't that cool dad?" Christopher said as he leaned into his father's side. Eddie felt bad for not catching the last bit of what his son said but smiled down at him seeing how happy Chris looked. "Yeah, that is pretty cool Mijo."

Christopher held onto a little green, bioluminescent rose that he hoped to give to one of the performers after the show. Eddie thought it was sweet of his son and only hoped that he could actually be able to give it to someone.

It felt like hours before it actually started but Eddie had to admit...it was pretty cool. The tigers were quite impressive and able to withstand more heat from hoops and more dangerous tricks. Chris was mesmerized as he watched the tiger stand on it's hind legs and one of the women did a one handed handstand on it's paw before she flipped off and began to do some sort of fire dancing. Her hands were quite literally on fire and Eddie figured that was one of her enhancements. Neat.

Eddie cringed as he watched a man stick 67 swords down his throat but he was pretty impressed. There had to be some sort of cybernetic internal modification. However if it wasn't Eddie was going to be mildly horrified and also most definitely impressed with the man who's name he has already forgotten. Actually Eddie had forgotten all of the names that had been announced tonight and he felt kinda bad about it.

Eddie was listening to Christopher tell him about the twins performing on the trapeze before his breath caught in his throat as the man let go of his sister. A low collective gasp overtook the crowd and Eddie was sure just about every heart in the place stopped before she was caught by someone else swinging in. His legs woven through an aerial hoop as he grabbed her by an arm and launched her to her respective platform before he grabbed the ring and hoisted his legs from the ring as he spun.

"We are proud to introduce the best Aerial performer around, Our very own Evan Buckley!" The Ringmaster called out as Eddie kept his eyes glued to the man who moved through the air so gracefully. He seemed to be a part of the ring he wove himself in and out of dancing in sync to the music Eddie hadn't even realized was playing. He heard Christopher giggle as Eddie watched the man, Evan, hook his left leg through the ring as he swung around the tent in a wide circle.

"What's so funny bud?" Eddie asked his son quietly as he glanced at him. Christopher leaned over closer to him. "You think he's pretty don't you? You've got that look on your face and you've had your mouth open the whole time."

Eddie flushed slightly. "I do not."

"Liar liar pants on fire." Chris giggled as he leaned against his dad and watched the rest of Evans performance. At the end he stood on the ring before dropping down and holding on with his hands, Eddie catching the miniscule hesitation he had before swinging off as someone caught him and he landed safely on a platform.

Eddie couldn't really focus much on the remaining hour and barely noticed when the show has ended until he seen everyone come out and bow. Christopher handed Eddie the rose he had been holding all night so he could applaud everyone, beaming the entire time.

Eddie and Christopher waited until the place was practically deserted before making their way downstairs catching sight of the Ringmaster. "Uh, excuse me sir?"

The man stopped and turned towards them. "How can I help you folks?"

"I'm sorry to trouble you but my son here is...a huge fan of you all and was wondering if he could give this rose to a specific performer? He's been saving it for them for a while." Eddie said as he looked at the Ringmaster who took the two in and glanced around.

"Who're you looking to give it to kiddo?" The man asked Christopher who waved him closer so he could whisper in his ear. Eddie looked at him and raised a brow slightly.

The Ringmaster smiled slightly. "Well you'll find him right over there. Just keep your eyes up and you'll find him. Now you folks have a nice night, hope you enjoyed the show."

Eddie nodded as he followed his son who was looking upwards as he walked and slowed slightly. "M-Mr. Buckley?" Christopher called out quietly as he looked up at the man.

Evan was suspended about 20 feet in the air hanging upside down from his ring. One leg hooked through the ring as he tinkered on his cybernetic leg, synthetic skin hidden as he glanced down and once again Eddie's breath caught in his throat. He was even more beautiful up close. Eddie noticed that the man had eyeliner ringed around his eyes as well as green and gold eyeshadow like many of the other performers.

"Well hello there, how can I help you there buddy?" He said as he looked at Christopher.

"I was wondering if I could give you something Mr. Buckley?" Christopher asked.

Evan smiled broadly as he carefully unhooked his leg and dropped, landing gracefully near the two and walked closer. "Of course you can, and please call me Buck."

"Here you go Buck! I heard that this was your favorite type of rose and Daddy and I found some a while back." Christopher said as he took the rose from his father and held it out to Buck who's smile could rival that of the Suns. Buck crouched down.

"Well thank you, that's very sweet of you buddy. I love it." He said smiling at the young boy. "You are just the cutest kid huh?"

"Thank you I'm glad you like it." Christopher giggled before quietly adding. "You're cute too apparently, at least Daddy thinks so."

"Does he now?" Buck mused as he smirked glancing over to Eddie who was looking at him confused, wondering what his son had said just now.

"You okay with your son being introduced to Lassandra?" Buck asked as he looked at Eddie. Christopher turned to his father and pleaded. "Pllleeaasssseeeeeeeeeee Daddy!!! Can I please see the tiger?"

"Of course Mijo just...be careful okay? I'll be right here Christopher, no running off too far okay?" Eddie replied and the look on his son's face made him melt.

"Hey Chim! Do me a favor and take my new bud Christopher over there to meet Lassandra?" Buck called out as another man came over and smiled.

"Sure thing Buck, come on little man. She's one of the coolest things you'll probably ever see." Chimney said as he walked Christopher over to the pin the tiger was in. Buck walked over to Eddie and held out a hand which Eddie shook.

"So my kid tells me that you're one of the best." Eddie said as he tried not to look over the man shaking his hand.

"Heavy the head that wears the crown." Buck mumbled with a sad smile. "That title came with a heavy price."

"Most things do." Eddie said simply.

"You got a name?"

"Eddie...Eddie Diaz." Eddie answered with a small smile as he watched Christopher touch the biomechanical creature not too far away.

"Well Eddie...you're not too bad yourself." Buck said as he eyed the other man. Eddie flushed.

"I'm sorry?"

"Your kid made the comment that you thought I was cute, you're not too bad yourself Mr. Fireman." Buck said with a lopsided grin. Eddie opened his mouth but Buck spoke again.

"Your shirts not buttoned all the way, caught a glimpse of your badge number and the F.D on your chest. I don't have modded eyes. Only thing not real on me is this." He motioned to his lower left leg. "Lost the real one in a fall a few years back."

"And you're still willing to go up there?" Eddie asked, mildly impressed by the man's observation skills but not commenting on it.

"Don't see why not. Got nothing else to live for outside of this." Buck said honestly.

"You could."

"Not as easy as you think man, we're not all firefighters with a cute kid." Buck mumbled as they watched Christopher laugh as Chimney did something with Lassandra.

"You could be."

"A firefighter with a cute kid?" Buck asked raising a brow.

"Yeah. Don't see why not." Eddie stated calmly as he glanced at Buck who's blue eyes were trained on him.

"Is this your way of flirting?"

"Depends...is it working?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah. Probably only because it's me, doubt it would for anyone else." Buck said with a low laugh.

"I don't need it to work on anyone else." Eddie smiled as Buck laughed again and moved a bit closer.

"You busy tonight?" Eddie inquired as he looked into blue eyes.

"Nope, looks like I have a clear schedule for a while. I just quit my job about .2 seconds ago. Might end up spending my life with this really handsome fellow and his son though." Buck mused as he leaned in towards Eddie.

"That sounds nice." He mumbled to Buck and Eddie closed the distance between them, capturing Buck's lips gently. They broke away laughing slightly as Christopher mumbled, "Ew gross" as he walked back over to the two.

"How about we all head out and go get something to eat?" Eddie said ruffling his son's hair. Both Christopher and Buck nodded in agreement and they headed out into the night of the awaiting city.

(epilogue: Buck becomes a firefighter and marries Eddie and they love happily ever after with Christopher because it's what they deserve)

(p.s. I'm probably going to do a longer fic for ao3 on this prompt if anyone would be interested in that)

[the-porg-apprentice]

2020 wrap-up

2020 Creator’s Self-Love Extravaganza!!

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 8 favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!  

I was tagged by the very talented @roninreverie​ , whom I can always depend on to randomly send me chats of “hey did you see this?” thought-provoking background details from whatever they are watching. Such an eye the little things! :-)

I have to admit, 2020 has been a rough year, creatively. I spent the months of March through May curled up in a ball with my laptop, and during the second half of the year some not good personal stuff happened. These favorites are in chronological order, rather than favorite order (because then I’d have to choose a favorite and I’m not sure what to pick.)

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1. Sherie and the Porglets go for their First Footing  (Jan 1, 2020)

I like the camera angle here, and the bare trees against the blue sky. It was a really nice morning.

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2.  One Week (March 5, 2020) It took me ages to finish this story. It was for my own Ascension Week 2019 challenge that I had organized, and I couldn’t finish it in time. (Why I no longer organize challenges and try to talk myself out of joining other people’s) I am most proud of the tango scene, in which I tried to mimic the tempo of the tango in their argument.

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3.  Snack Break (March 14, 2020)

What is the correct way to eat an Oreo cookie? This was fun to write. Thranto is not something I ship romantically, so I wrote genfic that could be viewed in a romantic light. I threw in the perpetually chaotic/unhinged Pik and Waffle for funsies.

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4.  Iditapod sticker Lucky (March 17, 2020)

Lucky expresses our collective shock over the brand new quarantine. (And literally I was in shock right then- so cold and shivering I had to go to bed for two days and take a mental health sick day.)

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5.  Porglympics (April 2020)

The amazing Porgkins the Porg organized a Porglympics for the Porgstagram community and it lifted us out of our collective stupor and got our creative juices flowing. Even if we were in quarantine, maybe we weren’t alone after all? I had a lot of fun creating events for the porgs.

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6.  Waffle’s Tooka (October 22, 2020)

A spinoff from the 30-day Thryce prompt drabbles that I wrote in October. I love playing with Waffle and Pik, and the concept of Waffle the tsundere was too much to resist for my crackfic-loving muse.

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7.  Relicts (November 13, 2020)

This fic really got me out of my comfort zone. I hate writing smut because there are only so many synonyms one can use and so many things two people can do. The pressure to write something original is crippling. Still, I am glad I wrote it, and many thanks to EvilMouse for creating the challenge. Mind the tags!

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8. My Star Wars Rebels holiday exchange fic. (coming soon!)

This is not done yet, but I’ve had a lot of fun writing it. I have to finish it today, because it is due tomorrow! I can’t wait for you to read it. As usual, it is more crack.

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I am not going to tag anyone because I always feel awkward when I tag people, so if you want to play, please consider yourself tagged. Really, I mean it! I’m not just saying that.

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Thirty-One: Boiling Water ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

Another day...another away basketball game. Which means a pretty empty classroom for the Home Ec group.

And Sasuke still has a lot on his mind regarding the class.

It’s true that he’s really enjoyed this semester. He had his doubts in the beginning. It has a bit of a reputation for being...well, girly. Of course, now he knows better. Sewing, cooking, cleaning...it’s not a girl thing, it’s a person thing.

While most of his classmates are underclassmen girls, they’ve subtly - in their own way - help impress just such a fact upon him. Doesn’t matter what you are. Got a hole in your shirt? You can fix it, just gotta know how. Need to make a dessert for a friend’s potluck? You can make one, just gotta know how! And literally everyone needs to know how to clean. Otherwise...you’re just gross.

In short, he went from one of those senior guys to a better equipped soon-to-be-adult. And also from someone rather intimidating in the class to the girls’ favorite person to fill in on gossip and ask opinions for. From scary upperclassman to adopted older brother of the class, really.

Well...for everyone except one person.

Hinata’s been...different. Mostly because she’s a senior, like he is. But also because she’s pretty much teacher number two. A copilot for the class, but especially for Sasuke. She helped him catch up in a variety of the class’s aspects, but especially cooking. Which his mother has been ecstatic about.

And over time, it’s become less about him learning from her, and more just...hanging out with her. They use free days to just...sit and cook things and talk. He hasn’t ever really had a friend like her before. Mostly he’s only ever just been commandeered into friendships like that with Naruto, or Shikamaru, or any of the other guys in their year. Any girls he’s met have generally been obnoxious and only wanted one thing from him.

...ironic then that the one he’s been able to tolerate and actually befriend...he’s been trying very hard not to feel more than that for.

He didn’t even mean for it to happen! It just...did! She’s so kind, and soft-spoken, and sweet...and she’s never treated him like the other girls have treated him. Like some kind of prey to be stalked and hunted down. It drives him up the wall...no, Hinata just treats him like anyone else. Like a friend.

And...and that’s what he wants.

...ugh.

It just so happens, too, that this entire conundrum is coming up as the semester is about to end. Technically Sasuke only needs one semester of this class to meet his requirements for graduation. And at the beginning of the year, he had assumed he’d be thankful once it was over. But now...he’s not so sure. And not just because of Hinata. He genuinely enjoys the class, and wants to stay.

There’s just one problem: his dad has been hounding him about taking as many “attractive” classes to colleges as he can. And needless to say that a Home Ec course doesn’t really do much for him in that regard.

Which leaves Sasuke in a bit of a bind. Does he ignore his father’s very obvious hinting and risk making him mad? Or does he abandon one of his favorite classes to please him (and whatever university ends up accepting him), making himself all the more miserable?

It’s been bugging him for a few weeks now...and he really isn’t sure what to do.

So...he decides to ask the one person he thinks he should.

“Another quiet day,” Hinata muses, letting her bag rest near the table she always sits at. “Well...want to cook something?”

Sasuke doesn’t reply at first, and her head tilts curiously.

“...Sasuke?”

“Could we maybe do something...else first?”

“Um...sure! What...what were you thinking?”

“I’d like some advice.”

Pale eyes blink in surprise. “...okay! Um...would you like some tea for while we...talk?”

“...yeah, that’d be nice.”

Nodding, Hinata fetches one of the Home Ec room’s kettles, filling it with water and letting it sit on the stovetop. “Is...everything okay?”

“Y’know how I mentioned changing classes the other day?”

“Oh...yeah. Still haven’t m-made a decision yet?”

His head shakes.

“Well, I...I don’t know if I’m really the person to ask, Sasuke.”

“I already asked my mom. She said I should stay.”

“...I take it you, um...you haven’t asked your dad?”

“No. I already know what he’d say. And...I didn’t want to risk bringing it up and having him make up my mind for me, y’know?”

“Yeah...I get that.” Going quiet for a moment, she seems to mull that over. “...what do you want to do?”

“...I want to stay.”

“...but?”

“But...I don’t want my dad to get angry. I don’t want to risk screwing up my college apps.”

“Will half a credit really make or break you…?”

“No. I don’t think so? I don’t know!”

Holding up a hand for a pause, Hinata lets the kettle build to a steady whistle before pouring two mugs of tea. “...here.”

“...thanks.”

“Let’s sit.”

Sasuke follows, holding his cup and not yet drinking. It’s almost more soothing just to hold it.

“...before, when we talked...you said you liked this class, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And that you...you already know your major, and...what kind of job you want?”

“I guess. It’s not really that I...want it? More just I guess it’s what I’ll do.”

Hinata’s eyes lower to the table, clearly thinking. “...do you...enjoy the things we do in class? Like...would you consider them hobbies, now?”

“...some of it? Cooking, yeah. I was kinda meh about it before, but...now I really like it. The rest is just useful.”

“...then I would stay, if I were you. Your dad can’t throw much of a fit about half a credit, right…?”

Sasuke sighs, a hand running back through his hair. “...I guess not. I just…” There’s a beat of hesitation. “...my dad’s pretty strict with my brother and I. Itachi’s already getting his undergrad in business this year, and he’s going on for a master’s. I don’t even think he wants to, he just feels like he has to because Dad pushed him into it. And then he started doing the same to me when Itachi started college.”

Hinata’s expression sobers. “...I know how that goes. My father and I, we...we had a big f-falling out when I was younger about what I wanted to do. When I told him I was going to take a year off...he told me he was cutting all support once I graduate.”

“What?!”

A nod. “He doesn’t think it’s proper. So I’ll be on my own. But I don’t have a plan...nothing’s ever felt that c-clear to me. I wanted the year to take and just...discover myself. See if...there was something I wanted to pursue.”

Sasuke’s brows furrow with a frown. “...I still say you do culinary stuff. You’re so good at it, Hinata! And you clearly enjoy it! Screw your dad and his snotty standards. Take a year, explore, and then go to culinary school. Look...I know there’s a pretty good program with the local community college. I bet you’d do great, and it wouldn’t be very expensive. Hell, I’d help you if I could.”

At that, her face slackens in surprise. “You...you really…?”

“You’re like...the nicest person I know. If your dad’s gonna treat you like that, it’s his loss, not yours. It’s your life, ‘nata. Do what you want with it.” Sasuke takes a gulp of tea in a spike of temper, feeling it burn down his throat. “...and if you open that baker you talked about? I’ll come work for you - do your books and stuff. Doesn’t matter what I’m doing otherwise. I’d do it.”

“But...w-why…?”

“Cuz you’re my friend. And I want to support you. Look...I know it’s only been a semester, but...you’re one of my best friends. Maybe even my best friend. So what kinda friend would I be back if I didn’t do that much, huh?”

To his own surprise, her jaw trembles, tears beading along her lids. “No one’s...n-no one’s ever...told me that before. Just...said I should do it.”

“Then you need to find better people to be around,” he mutters stubbornly.

“...thank you, Sasuke. Heh…” She dashes at her eyes with a sheepish smile. “...this was supposed to be advice for you...not me.”

“Hey, it’s a two-way street. I’ll stick to the class. That much we pretty much already knew anyway, right?”

“...right.”

Sasuke’s eyes flicker between her own, which stare a bit somberly at the table. “...it’ll be fine, Hinata. Besides, we’ve got a whole semester before we graduate. You can make some plans between now and then. Just...forget your dad and his attitude. It’s all gonna work out.”

“...I hope so.” Finally looking up, she gives him a rosy-cheeked smile. “...I’m glad you’re staying. It...it means a lot to me to have you to talk to, and just...y’know...hang out with. Is...is that lame?”

“...nah, it’s not lame at all.”

                                                           .oOo.

     (This is a sequel to days 98, 108, 139, 227, 284, and 301!)       Heyyy, guys - sorry for the unexpected two day break. But uh...I'll talk more about that below for anyone wondering. For now, about the drabble!      We're back in the Home Ec verse! I love this one, for a couple of reasons. Mostly cuz it's just so domestic and slice-of-lifey, y'know? It's relaxing, even when writing more stressful parts for them like this one. I dunno. It's just nice xD Not really a full 'story' per se since not much really...HAPPENS. But it's one of my favorite series.      Anyway, a lil behind-the-scenes for a second, which comes first with a little warning: the rest of the year is going to be VERY busy for me due to some irl changes happening this month. The next two weeks especially, but it'll probably drag on until at least the new year...I dunno. But in short, I've been missing so many days the last few weeks because life is REALLY stressful, and I've just been too tired. Add in that I have a chronic illness to deal with, and just...yeah. I get behind and have to take breaks.      And honestly I'm getting very burnt out by a whole year of writing an average of 1500 words A DAY. For reference's sake, this challenge JUST past 500,000 words. And I also did SHM, which was another 30,000, and ANOTHER ship month which was 75,000. That's over 600,000, and that's not counting other side projects I've done. So yes, I write other things too, but that makes this challenge all the more...well, challenging. For reference, today's prompt was for November 27. That's how far behind I've gotten. But there's just...really not much I can do about it, sadly. I don't have time to make them up, and likely will just have to drag the event out past December 31. Then on top of that there's organizing all the mini series for AO3, and just...yeah. I'm gonna need a LONG break once that's done before I even THINK of taking on all the projects I want to that will stem from this challenge.      SO, in short...just please be patient with me ;w; I'm doing my best, and in the end - as much as I love this - it IS just fanfiction. Real life has to come first. So I hope you'll bear with me for the last few weeks, and then the much-needed hiatus once it's over to recup before hopefully turn some of these into proper fics. We'll see how life goes.      But, that's enough rambling out of me! I just thought I'd elaborate a bit in case anyone was curious. I'm all right, just...very busy and stressed ^^; So I'll just have to take this challenge as I can. But thanks to everyone sticking with it. I appreciate it! On that note, though...I better go. Thanks for reading!

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

The Nuptial Necessity - Chapter 5

A 12xRose Human AU

Despite an unglamorous job description, Rose loves the work she does with The Thistle Foundation, a charity founded by her best friend’s great-uncle.  It doesn’t hurt that her boss, her friend’s father, is easy on the eyes.  With a great job, wonderful friends and a loving family, life couldn’t be better – except for having someone to share it with.

All of that is threatened, though, when the great-uncle dies – and sets a strange condition for his nephew to inherit, jeopardizing the Foundation and Rose’s future, sparking a chain of events that might just get her everything she dreamed of and more.

Chapters will be posted on Saturdays and Tuesdays.  Many thanks to my beta, @stupidsatsuma

Rated: Explicit, for eventual smut

@doctorroseprompts

AO3  |  Masterlist

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Saturday

Rose stretched out on her sofa, closing her eyes and trying to relax.  Tony was sprawled out on the carpet in front of her, glued to the telly and his favorite movie – today, Toy Story.

As the movie played in the background she tried to organize her thoughts about Wallace’s will, tried to determine when or how the old man had gotten the idea for her and Malcolm to marry.  She couldn’t even remember if the three had ever been in the same room together prior to the funeral; usually she would go visit him if Malcolm was away or otherwise unable to make his thrice-weekly visit, and even that had only been a dozen or so times over the last few years since Wallace had moved to the assisted living facility.

Was he starting to lose his mental facilities?  For his age the man had been sharp, hampered only by his body beginning to fail to the point where he could no longer stay at home.  She knew Malcolm and Clara had lived with him after leaving Scotland, staying in the family townhouse ever since, had done everything possible to keep him there.  Did he misunderstand my position in Malcolm’s life?  Did he think somehow we were more than that?

The very thought of more with Malcolm made her breath catch, desire and longing and fear fighting for top billing in her heart.  If only he wasn’t Clara’s dad, she lamented once again, as she had so often since realizing she was-

A knock on the door broke her concentration, and with a sigh, she swung her legs off the couch and stood up.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back,” she spoke to her brother’s back, rolling her eyes when he ignored her, totally engrossed in Buzz and Woody’s first meeting.

There’s a dirty joke in there, somewhere, she mused, checking the peephole out of habit before freezing.  Shit.  Shit shit shit.  Should I pretend I’m not-

“I know you’re home,” Malcolm said dryly from the other side of the door, “let me in, would you?  Your neighbor’s giving me an evil eye.”

Undoing the lock, Rose swung the door open to reveal her boss.  “You probably deserve it.”  But she smirked as she said it, and after a moment, he shook his head.

“I stop by to check on you after you leave work early ‘feeling sick’ – for the first time in eight years, I’ll add – and this is the thanks I get?”

“That was literally twenty-four hours ago.  I appreciate your promptness.” Stepping aside she let him in, locking the door as he waited in the entryway.  “Seriously, what’re you doing here?”  She couldn’t remember a single time he’d shown up unannounced; the minor tweaks to their routine in the past few days had her more rattled than she’d care to admit, this being just another one on the growing list.

Malcolm shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets and glancing towards the living room.  “Hot date?”

“Love of my life,” she said truthfully enough, lips quirking.  “Is this a conversation better had in private?”

“Probably.”

Rose nodded, not waiting for him to follow as she made her way through the joint living/dining area, saying, “Tony, my boss is here.  We’re going to talk in my bedroom, ok?  Just give me a shout if you need anything.”

“Okay.”

Once inside she shut the door and turned, realizing a beat too late that she had just led her boss into her bedroom.  And the bad decisions just keep on coming.

To his credit Malcolm had stopped awkwardly in the middle of the room, glancing around with clear interest.  “So…”

“So.”  She gestured to the bench at the foot of her bed for him to sit, pulling her vanity chair over to face him.  “What’s up?”

He let out a deep breath, staring down at his hands and examining them as if he’d never seen them before.  “First, I want to apologize.  The… terms of Wallace’s will were as much a surprise to me as they were to you.  Had I known, I certainly would have- well, I don’t honestly know what his intentions were, but I sure as fuck would’ve asked.  I did speak to his solicitor, but they have clear documentation that he was in his right mind, so there’s no chance of invalidating it in favor of a previous version which included no strings, unfortunately.”

Pausing, he peered up at her, but all she could offer him was a shrug.

“Okay.”

“Erm, right.  So.  That leaves us with three options.  Number one, do nothing.  Always appealing, but in this case, that’s the end of the Foundation and everything we- I have.  Two – fight the will in court, try to get the condition stricken from it, but I expect that would be a long and ultimately fruitless and expensive battle.  And three… to- well- capitulate.”

Rose nodded, having already determined that for herself.  “And what are you thinking?”

“That I don’t want things to change,” he said honestly, offering her a wry smile.  “I love the work that we do, the way that we do it.  I believe in everything the Foundation does.  To lose it – and everything else I have – is a terrifying thought.  But I have no right to ask that much of you.”

“No, you don’t,” she agreed, before sighing.  “But that doesn’t mean I can’t offer.”

“What?”  Malcolm’s head snapped up, eyes going comically wide as he stared at her.  “I don’t- what?”

“I’m not giving you an answer,” Rose maintained, shrugging, “but… that also means I’m not saying no.  I feel the same way about the Foundation, and I hate to think of all of that disappearing.  But it’s a lot.  I just… I don’t know.”

To her relief he didn’t look mad, not that she had genuinely expected him to.  “Right.  What next, then?  Do you want to discuss it all?  Shall I leave you alone?”

“No!” Rose blurted when he tried to stand.  “I mean, yes, let’s talk. If- if- I said… yes, what would that involve?  What would it mean?  To you, for us- everything, I mean.  Just… what?” Pressing her lips together tightly she cursed her own inarticulation, annoyed with herself.  She had worked hard to build her reputation as being unflappable, of professionalism and efficiency, and this whole situation was throwing that all out of the window.

Damn you, Wallace.

Blinking, Malcolm sat back down, running his fingers through his hair.  “Well- I mean- in many ways, nothing would have to change.  I suppose.”

She arched an eyebrow when he paused.

“What?  Right.  Erm, I would never expect- that is to say- I wouldn’t… nothing would change personally.  Legally, we’d- well.  And you would- could- move into the townhouse, and you know perfectly well that there are plenty of guest rooms.”  He swallowed, eyes skittering around the room before returning to her.  “There’s something you should know, that Clara doesn’t.  Or at least, we’ve never discussed – I suppose her mother could have told her. Or she found out on her own.”

“And that is…” Rose prompted.

Malcolm’s lips twisted.  “The ‘estate’ is an actual estate.  And… a title.”

She was glad to be sitting, as for just a moment the world went sideways.  “What?  A title?  Since when!”

“Since always.  Centuries.  It’s fairly minor, just a Viscount, but it does exist and goes with the estate.  Well, it is the estate, technically.”

“So Wallace had a title as well?  What is it, anyway?”

“Yes, he never wanted to use it, but it was always there.  Viscount Gallifrey is the title itself.”

Rose closed her eyes briefly, concentrating on her breathing to keep from getting dizzy.  “Sorry, so if we- if I-”

“Viscountess.”

“Whoa.”

His lips twitched.  “Yeah, woah.  I mention it because if we- well, you would…”

“Right.”

Viscountess.  Me?

-

Despite the seriousness of the conversation, Malcolm had to fight back a smile as he watched the cogs turn in Rose’s mind.  He knew she wasn’t motivated by the thought of money or a title, but to see his usually-unflappable assistant so rattled was more than a bit amusing.

She’d run a house like clockwork.

The thought was wistful, and it hurt his heart.  If she’d been just anyone, a random woman off the street, he would’ve asked her out years ago.  But, no- she just had to be his daughter’s best friend, and though he could overlook that, she was also the daughter of a business partner – and he never did anything that could risk the Foundation.  He’d been working with Pete Tyler for close to fifteen years, the man and Vitex combined roughly fifteen percent of the Foundation’s non-Gallifrey funding.

I can’t do that to him.

“So, would there be anything to do with that?  Any responsibilities, for me, I mean?”  Rose’s voice pulled him out of his own head, and for a moment, he just blinked at her.

“Oh!  Yes.  I mean, not what it would’ve been a century or two ago, but still yes.  Nothing too different from your current duties, mostly overseeing things.  We have a full staff at the estate itself, who manage everything for us.  Mrs. Cooper would report to you, as she currently does to me.  It shouldn’t add to your workload too much.”

She nodded, still looking lost in thought, and he tried to think of anything else she would have to know, uncertain of what he wanted her answer to be; his heart wanted her to say yes, but his head knew she would have to say no.  I can’t lose her.  “Erm, just a note- there aren’t any official engagements or duties or anything.  Not that I would attend or deal with, at least; no invitations to court, no hobnobbing with the aristocracy.  You’re not- you wouldn’t be joining the royal family, or anything.  So you know.”

“That’s a relief,” Rose grinned wryly.  “I’ve never been a fan of playing nice with the uppity-ups.”

Malcolm scoffed, shaking his head in favor of replying.  She was easily the most charming person he knew, able to win over everyone she’d ever met with very few exceptions.  He suspected, deep in the cavern of her chest where a heart would normally reside, even Missy liked her – and his ex-wife didn’t like anyone.  Often including their daughter.  You’re in too deep.

“I should go,” he decided on the fly, standing abruptly without consciously deciding to.  “Let you enjoy your weekend.  Listen, whatever you decide, obviously I understand and support you.  But, please- don’t feel obligated.  I want you to be happy.”

“Oh… okay.”  Rose’s face flushed.  “I just… I just don’t know.”

He nodded.  “I understand.  Take some time.  And if you have any conditions or… compensation in mind, draw up a list and we can talk when you’re ready.  You know I’m reasonable.”  That wasn’t strictly true, but when it came to Rose, he found himself hard-pressed to say no to anything she suggested; it was why he ate salads for lunch twice a week after all, despite his detest for leafy greens.

Way, way too deep.

“Well, thanks for stopping by,” Rose said, as they made their way back through the flat to the front door.  “I’ll think about it.”

“Let me know if you need to talk.”

With another smile and a soft bye she closed the door, and he waited until he heard the deadbolt slide into place to turn and head for the lift, avoiding her neighbor’s glare peering from a crack in the door.

Stepping out onto the sidewalk and turning up his coat collar against the wind, he debated where to go.  On a Saturday he had few options for company; since moving to London he’d always spent the day with Wallace (and Clara, in her younger years), and he once again felt the loss of his uncle keenly.  It’s only been a month, but feels like years.  Since his passing he’d been left adrift, with Clara busy with her boyfriend and Rose with Tony, nevermind the awkwardness of the will hanging over them.

With a sad sigh he headed down the block towards where Graham was parked, deciding to head into the office.

Might as well work while I still can.