#I think it definitely is a case of writing the first chapter closer to last but I’m gonna get thru the plot beats you know

[foxmulderautism]

at this point im just speeding through chapter one of lover boy like im trying to get through the perfume department

[joonam]

the museum stranger - chapter 2 | knj

Pairing: Idol!Namjoon x Reader (f)

Genre: romance, bookstore!au, museum!au, soft, angst, strangers to lovers.

Summary: A quiet afternoon at a modern art museum in Seoul becomes the beginning of something unexpected. Newly discharged from military service, Namjoon meets you with a book in hand, and something just clicks. But just as the two of you gets closer, timing threatens to strip it away. What begins as a simple presence of a stranger in a museum might just grow into something that lasts.

Word Count: 4039

Warnings: grief, harassment & violence, soft angst, crying, references to death, mentions of anxiety

a/n: I hope u guys enjoy this chapter, it is currently my favourite. another update would be on thursday hopefully :)) taglist: @kritika06

check out my: masterlist chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5 | chapter 6 | chapter 7 | epilogue

It was a rainy Saturday and the rain makes everything move slower.

You found him at the steps right before the entrance of the museum, standing under a yellow umbrella that looks hilariously out of place against his black t-shirt, black outer, and a white mask on. He noticed you before you could say anything, lifted the umbrella while greeting you, "Hi."

You stepped under his umbrella while closing yours, your shoulder brushing against his arm, "Hi." "You won’t mind art in the rain?" he asked through his mask. You nodded, "I like it specially then."

Namjoon’s heart was beating faster when he noticed he would have to walk to the entrance while sharing an umbrella with you. After a moment of hesitation, he nervously slipped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to him.

“Just so you don’t get rained on,” he said, almost too quickly.

You could feel your whole face getting red, but it’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine. No, it’s not. This is definitely top 3 of one of the most romantic things anyone has ever done for you. And you wanted to scream so bad but being nonchalant at a time like this feels more proper.

Both of you reached the entrance and dry the soles of your shoes against the mat they provided.

You first stopped at a painting of a single pear on a ceramic plate. But Joon stared at it longer than anything else.

"Why this one?" you asked curiously. He tilted his head, “It feels honest. Just a pear. No metaphors behind the painting. It’s just what it is."

You studied the painting to understand him more, “I think it’s lonely," you said, "but not sad. It’s just existing as it is like you said." He looked at you then, "That makes sense."

You moved to the next room and stopped in front of a different installation. "What do you see?" he asked. You hesitated, "A mistake that is frozen in time.” He nodded slowly. "I can see that, but it’s a beautiful mistake."

You sat on a bench in front of a landscape piece. He sits beside you, not too close, but not too far. "I used to come here when I couldn't write," he said quietly. "Writer's block?" He shook his head, “More like life block? Like nothing I say or do was worth saying or doing." "Do you still feel that way?" you asked. He looked at the field on the canvas, "Less so lately."

Later, in the new wing, you both stand in front of a wall of tiny framed objects. A spoon, a strip of hair, a glass eye. "That one," you said, pointing to the spoon. "Reminds me of my dad. He keeps a spoon in the compartment of his car, just in case he heeds to eat something."

Namjoon laughed, "That’s smart." "He calls it 'emergency friend’ like, if you have a spoon, you'll be okay." He laughed more but it was gentle, "He sounds like someone who sees the world in a unique way." You nodded, “He does.”

After you finished touring the museum, you stood together under the exit sign. "Thank you for coming," he said. "Thank you for inviting me," you said smiling at him.

He looked at you for a second too long before asking, "Can I see you again?” You smiled, “We just saw each other." He raised his eyebrow, "That wasn’t a no.” "No," you said, smiling at him, "It wasn’t."

You said your goodbyes and turned to go while he waited until you were far enough away that you wouldn’t be able to hear the nervous breath he exhaled.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Later that night, Namjoon was pacing back and forth in his apartment. Wanting to text you but didn’t want to come off as too strong. But he decided to anyway.

Joon: Found another museum that we can explore together.

He sent the link, followed by a location pin, and you stared at your phone for a moment before typing back.

You: When? Joon: Tomorrow? Only If you're free. You: I’ll meet you there.

He reads your reply once. Then again. Then a third and fourth time time, as if your words might vanish. And he smiled.

He sets his phone down and leans back on the couch. He tries not to replay your message in his mind over and over again. But he fails anyway. Because it’s not just the museum. It’s not just tomorrow. It’s you. It's you saying yes to him.

And for a man like him who has spent years hiding his heart. That yes feels like the beginning of something he’s been waiting for. Something slow and soft. Something that could ruin him beautifully.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

The following Sunday, you followed the location pin he sent you. The museum was tucked away in a quiet neighbourhood, the kind of place people walk past a dozen times and never think to enter.

You arrived ten minutes earlier, unsure if that makes you look eager or just polite. Probably both. The woman at the front desk barely looks up as you paid the entry fee for two.

You stepped inside, the air instantly feels much cooler. A bell rang behind you. You didn’t turn, but you knew it was him with the same damn mask on that you know enough not to press it. He explained it to you on your first time ever meeting him, it never really bothers you, you understand people have their own reasons, including Joon.

"You beat me," he said. You turned around and smiled. "I thought you would appreciate punctuality." He replied, "I do."

The first room was entirely black and white portraits of men, women, and children staring just past the camera. "They look like they know something we don’t," you murmured. He stepped beside you, "Maybe they do."

You moved slowly from photo to photo. The space between you narrowing with each step. In one frame, a woman was standing on top of a dock with a completely wet hair. Her eyes locked with the camera like she wanted to fight it.

"She reminds me of you," he said. You looked at the photo, then at him. "Because she’s alone?" He shook his head, "Because she looks like she chose to be alone." You weren’t sure what to say to that, so you didn’t. "You’re not what I expected," he said suddenly. You turned to him, “What do you mean?” “You feel safe.” You blinked at him, "I’m not sure how to take that." "As a compliment. Please." You laughed under your breath, "Okay."

The museum was small enough for the both of you to go around twice, you glanced at the time on your phone. "It’s only 1 PM. Want to go to another museum? Something completely different."

Namjoon looks at at you amused, "Like what?" You shrugged, "The Seoul Children’s Museum? It could be fun. Or at least unexpected." "An exchange of scenery. I like that." You smiled, "So, yes?" "Yes." ♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

When you arrived at the Children’s Museum, the shift in energy was immediately felt. In this place, there was chaos and colour. Children screaming and running around. Something somewhere was beeping. A machine of bubbles were placed near the entrance.

Joon looks around, "Okay. Unexpected is right." You laughed, "We’re here now. Might as well embrace it."

He followed you through the front hall, where planets hung from the ceiling and a robotic dinosaur head peeked out from a side gallery. In the art zone, children were sitting wearing aprons, smearing paint with their hands and elbows.

He pointed to one chaotic canvas. "That one’s got soul." "Raw talent," you agreed. You wandered into the light and shadow room, where kids danced in front of projectors and made animals with their hands. You made a butterfly. He made a blob. "I tried to make a dog," he said. You squinted. "Looks like a potato." He bumped your shoulder. "You’re not supposed to critique children." "You’re not a child." "How do you know?" “Children don’t go to art museums and read for fun,” you said making him chuckle.

You entered the storybook tunnel next. A corridor lined with curved bookshelves and lanterns. A recording of lullabies played softly in the background. You both sat on one of the cushioned benches. You whispered, "What would a children’s museum tell you?" He thought for a long moment, "That you’re allowed to play even when the world is too loud." Outside, the sun was almost setting, and neither of you checked your phones. He turned to you, "This was actually really fun." "It was." He hesitated for a second before asking, "Want to pick the next one?" "Museum?" You asked and he nodded before saying, "Anything. Anywhere. As long as it’s with you."

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

On Monday, Namjoon woke up to the sunlight shining through the curtains and his phone buzzing softly against the bedside table.

You: Morning. Coffee first, reading second. That’s the law at the shop.

He grinned, half asleep:

Joon: Duly noted. Don’t break bookstore laws.

He studied the picture you sent noticing how the bookstore seems familiar.

Joon: Is this the bookstore with the cat? You: there are a lot of bookstores with a cat. But yes, his name is Radio. Joon: I think I’ve been there.

You sent him the location of the bookstore you work at so he could double check if it is indeed the store he’s been to before.

Joon: Yep. I’ve been there. You: Then we’ve met before. Joon: I would have remembered meeting you. You: So smooth. Well maybe I was out. Joon: Yeah.

He didn’t want the conversation to end and he also wanted to see you. So he texted again:

Joon: Do you think I can come to the bookstore? You: I mean it’s open for public, so, of course, Joonie.

He finally stood up from his bed. He didn’t know what this was yet, this thing building between you, but it feels like he already knows you for a long time. Like it was a past life kind of thing. ♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Namjoon wasn’t sure what made him nervous. Maybe it was the weight of seeing you again. He left the house early; hoodie, mask, cap, still cautious, still him. He walked past rows of shops he didn’t recognise until he found the bookstore.

And in the front window was Radio, the cat.

The bell above the door jingled as he steps inside. Music plays in a low volume from a speaker tucked into a shelf, something acoustic and old.

You were behind the counter, hands busy with organising bookmarks in a tin tray. You looked up and your face broke into the softest kind of smile. Which made Namjoon blush.

"You came," you said. Namjoon smiled behind his mask, "I did." You stepped out from behind the counter. "Come on. Poetry section’s this way." He follows you past displays of travel books and translated novels. You stopped between two narrow shelves fingers brushing over the spines, "This is where I go when I need to feel like I exist again," you said.

Namjoon nods, "There’s just something holy about good poetry." "And something reckless about bad poetry," you added, "But I love it all."

Namjoon blinks slowly, before eventually asking, "Can I buy you a coffee?"

You looked surprised, "Now?" He glances towards the front, "Only if Radio agrees to keep an eye on things." You laughed, "Radio’s judgmental, but fair."

You turn the sign at the door to 'Back in 15' and the two of you walk next door to a quiet café.

The cafe was quiet with lofi music playing in the background, a barista half listening to a podcast on their phone, and the scent of ground beans in the air.

You picked the corner table, your favourite spot, near a window, and slightly out of view. A spot that says, "stay as long as you like."

Namjoon ordered for you both; you a black sesame latte and him a regular americano. When the barista called the names, he picked up both and set them on the table. Yours in front of you. His slightly to the side.

You sip yours slowly. Namjoon just wraps his hands around his cup like it was there to warm him but not to be consumed.

You raised a brow. "You know you're allowed to drink it, right?" He looked at you, smiling beneath his mask, "I said I'd buy you a coffee. Never said anything about drinking mine."

You stared at him. "That sounds like something a very specific type of person would say."

"A poet?" he guessed.

"A criminal."

He blinked, then laughed, "Wow. Harsh."

You narrowed your eyes playfully. "You're hiding something, aren't you? You said you don’t like pulling your mask down in public. So what is it? Wanted person list? Witness protection? Secret agent? Underground cult?"

He chuckled again, leaning back slightly, "What if I said yes to all four?"

"Then I’d say this is the best coffee I’ve had in months."

He taps a finger on his cup. "I just like the space. I spend so much of my life being seen, I think I’ve learned to appreciate not being recognised." You nodded slowly, "Makes sense."

"You’re not mad?" he asked. "I think people who are used to being seen often forget how exhausting it is. Plus, you don’t carry yourself like someone trying to disappear. Just someone trying to breathe." Namjoon stared at you for a long moment.

"You’re really good at that." "At what?" "Saying things I’ve never known how to say out loud."

You looked down at your latte, letting the foam settle. "That’s funny," you said, "Because being around you makes me feel like maybe I’m not too much like there’s enough room for both of us." He didn’t answer that, just nodded slowly.

Namjoon leans forward, "Can I ask you something?" "Sure." "Why did you come back to the museum last week?" You look out the window, before answering; "I think part of me was hoping you would be there."

He exhaled, "I almost didn’t. But only because I thought you wouldn't be there." "But you did." He nodded. "And now we’re here. You, not drinking your coffee. Me, wondering why I told a stranger about my workplace."

"We’re not strangers," he said softly. You looked at him, "No," you agreed, "We’re not."

He didn’t pull his mask down that day. But it didn’t matter. He was already showing you everything you needed to see and hear.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

The next few days unfolded gently, not in grand declarations or sweeping gestures but in small, unspoken ways. A text here. A photo of a book spine. A sentence he underlined and thought you’d like.

Joon: “Sometimes the things we can’t say build up like smoke.” from a novel I found in the philosophy section today. You: Sounds like something I would underline too. What else are you reading lately?

Sometimes the conversation drifted into silence, but it never feels like an ending. Just a pause, just enough space for you to breath. For real life.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

On Friday, you returned to the bookstore, this time feeling like you were waiting for something even if you told yourself you weren’t.

Radio was particularly judgmental that morning. You blamed it on the rain. By noon, the bell jingled, you looked up, and there he was. Hoodie, mask, hands in pockets. Still Joon.

"Hey," you said, voice softer than expected. "Morning," he replied.

You stepped aside from the counter and was walking towards the imported book shelves to clean up. He didn’t follow you there. Instead, he stepped behind the counter, eyes scanning the post-it notes stuck to the wall.

"Do you write all of these?" You nodded, "Little reminders. Things I need to hear when it’s too quiet in here." He picked one: You are not behind. Time moves differently for the brave. He folded it and tucked it into his pocket. He said nothing but you let him keep it.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

You told your friends about him the next Sunday night. It was during your usual every 3rd Sunday of the month ritual, sitting cross legged on the floor of Ara’s apartment with bowls and cans of soft drinks scattered across the coffee table.

“So,” Jiwoo said, peering at you over her bowl. “You’ve been weirdly floaty all week. What gives?” You tried to play it off, but your smile betrayed you. Eunji gasped. “She’s smiling like she has a secret.”

“I do,” you said as you stirred your noodles, “I met someone.” Spoons clattered dramatically. Ara blinked. “Wait, what?”

“In a museum,” you said, trying to sound casual.

“A museum?” Jiwoo repeated. “That’s so on-brand, it suits you so much.” “I know. He saw Demian in my hand, then we just started talking.”

“Is he hot?” Eunji asked. You opened your mouth, then closed it. “I don’t know?”

“Girl.”

“He wears a mask,” you explained, “Like all the time. So I can’t really see his face. but his body is. yes. he’s hot. He is tall and has broad shoulders. and has like all the things I wrote on my "Qualities of men I would date" list."

The girls paused. Ara raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been hanging out with a man whose face you’ve never seen?”

“He has a nice voice,” you said defensively, “And kind eyes.” “Oh my god,” Jiwoo groaned. “He’s a criminal.” “He’s not a criminal.” “Okay but if he is, you need to blink twice and we'll come and rescue you.” You were laughing now, “He’s just private. He said being seen all the time gets exhausting.”

“Still sounds suspicious,” Eunji added, “What if he’s like an actual celebrity or something?” You shook your head. “I don’t care who he is. I like who he is with me and I like who I am with him.”

The girls went quiet at that. Ara smiled, softer this time. “Well. If he hurts you, we riot.”

Later that night, you texted him about what just happened.

You: So I told my friends about you. Joon: Should I be concerned? You: They think you’re a criminal. Joon: I mean, that’s fair. I am pretty suspicious. You: They made me promise to blink twice if you turn out to be in hiding. Joon: I am hiding. Just not from the law. You: What are you hiding from, then?

There was a longer pause.

Joon: From people who see me without actually seeing me.

You stared at the screen.

You: I think you let me see you. A little. Joon: *A lot. And you see me but it does not feel like an invasion.

You didn’t know what to say to that. So instead, you typed:

You: Radio says you’re allowed back. He only tolerates people with kind eyes and good posture. Joon: Then I’m honored. I’ll bring him sardines next time.

You smiled into your pillow and you didn’t feel like you were falling. Not yet. But you did feel like something was slowly unfolding.

♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡

Monday came and it has been raining all day. The rain finally stopped not long after you closed the bookstore. And as you look outside, Joon was there. Leaning against the brick wall across the street, hands in the pockets of his coat, head tilted slightly like he has been waiting but didn’t mind the wait, and of course with a mask on. He didn’t wave. He just stood a little straighter when he saw you lock the door.

You didn’t say anything at first. “Hey,” he said, with a low voice like he hasn't been talking the whole day. “Hi,” you replied.

A second passed. “It’s too late for coffee or the museum,” you said. “Too early to go home,” he replied.

You narrowed your eyes slightly, smiling, “So, you just happened to be in the neighborhood at 9:15 p.m, huh?” He paused then chuckled. “I like bookstores.” “Oh, totally,” you teased. “Especially ones that are closed. You know, very accessible. Not creepy at all.”

“I’m not stalking you,” he said, but the way his ears turned red above his mask made it less convincing. “Sure. Sure. That’s exactly what a stalker would say.” He lets out a laugh, “I’m seriously rethinking meeting you.” You nudged him with your elbow as you started walking, “Too late. You’re already Radio approved.”

So you walked. It was just the sound of two pairs of shoes on damp pavement and the soft sound of traffic in the distance. Hongdae was quieter than usual but it might be because it's past peak hours. You walk passed a mural that was newly painted.

"This part of the city always feels like a memory," you said. Joon glanced at you. “A good one?” You nodded, “One that still changes every time I look at it.” He smiled behind the mask, "I think I’ve lived in so many cities, I stop letting them feel like mine." "But Seoul is yours, isn’t it?" He paused, “Yes, It’s where I always return to.”

You crossed an empty intersection and his hand brushed yours just barely. He didn’t reach again, but you noticed.

“Tell me something small,” you said suddenly. “Like what your ideal day looks like.”

He thought for a second. “Okay,” he said, “Waking up without an alarm. Reading in bed for too long. A good bowl of something warm for lunch. Wandering around with no agenda. No headlines. Ending the day somewhere quiet like this.” You smiled, “That’s not small. That’s everything.”

He glanced over. “What about you?” “My ideal day? I think making something. Anything. Writing. Knitting. Collaging. Screaming into a sketchbook. Then walking until I forget what I made and maybe ending it with someone who gets that.”

“Tell me a fun fact about you” he asked. “I used to cry when my parents cut the crusts off my sandwich.” He laughed, “Why?” “They said it was to make it easier for me to eat. But it felt like they were taking something away without asking.”

He blinked. “That might be the most poetic thing anyone’s ever said about sandwich crusts.”

You both laughed. You reached a small playground, empty at this hour, the swings still damp from the earlier rain. You walked towards the jungle gym without thinking. He followed you, sitting next to you on a bench facing the slide. Finally, you asked him, “What are you afraid of?” Joon was quiet for a long time, “Being misunderstood,” he said, “And maybe missing the right thing because I hesitated.” You swallowed, “Yeah. That one scares me too.”

Ten minutes later, you were both on rental bikes, yours slightly squeaky, his too tall for you but not him. The path was a little slippery from the rain.

“I swear if this ends with me falling,” “I’ll catch you,” he said, dramatically. “Oh great. That really helps,” you said sarcastically.

“You wound me,” he said playfully while placing a hand on his chest. “Physically? Give it ten minutes.” Which was generous. Because seven minutes in and you did fall. Your front wheel slipped over a shallow puddle and before you could finish your curse word, you hit the ground with a loud thud. Joon was off his bike in seconds, “Are you. oh my god. are you dying? Should I call someone?” You sat up slowly, water dripping from your elbow, and burst out laughing.

“That was the most graceful fall of my life. Olympic worthy.” He crouched beside you, trying and failing not to laugh, “You fell like a heroine in some drama. Slow motion and everything.”

“My dignity is the only thing broken, possibly my pride. And maybe my left butt cheek.”

“Good that you didn't die because Radio would never forgive me if you didn’t make it.”

He offered his hand to help you stand, “Shall I help you up, bookstore heroine?” You took it.

And when he pulled you to your feet, his hand lingered just a second longer than needed.

But neither of you said anything about it.

[revelboo]

Heyo!

I just binge-read all 77 chapters of Everything Is Alright on AO3 (PHENOMENAL WRITING BTW!!) and while looking for more Starscream/reader here on Tumblr, I found your blog with the master post linking to the Tumblr version of the same fic. However, when I checked it out, I noticed there was some stuff in the first chapter here that wasn't in the first chapter on AO3.

I also noticed that the last update on AO3 was around the same time as the first full chapter post on Tumblr.

So I'm curious: is the Tumblr version of Everything Is Alright a more fleshed out continuity of the AO3 version?

I will 100% be devouring it if that's the case bc I genuinely think it's my favorite Starscream/reader I've read.

I’m more active over here and I tend to forget the AO3, honestly. It mostly serves as my backup

Everything Is Alright Pt 140

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Watching Starscream flare his wings aggressively when Soundwave tries to reach for you, and the way you frown up at the Seeker, Megatron vents tiredly. Still unsure how exactly he got roped into whatever this nonsense is. Why he hadn’t been able to just watch you die in his hands. True, he enjoys your quick temper and indignation that seems reserved for only him. Your fire and that you feel comfortable enough to argue with him when most of his followers simply agree with him, never bothering to question him to his face. Well, except for Starscream’s muttered snark when the Seeker thinks he can’t hear him.

• Servos flexing, Soundwave grabs Starscream by the wrist, fully aware of the Seeker’s petty intention to keep you away from him just because he’s frustrated that you’re sparked and it’s not his. “No,” he growls, field flaring aggressively and the Seeker hesitates. And you shudder like you can feel it brushing against you, too. Giving him pause before he reaches out with his other hand to brush a servo against your cheek. Searching and finding your own weak field. How had he not noticed it before? Or is it because of the spark bond? The spark itself?

• Aware of them both, it’s like you can feel Starscream and Soundwave’s annoyance crackling over you, making your skin prickle. Making you uneasy. And Soundwave’s head tips, watching as you lay a hand on his servo. He knows you can feel whatever this is. You’re sure of it. Have no idea what this new alien weirdness is, but it’s making you oddly anxious and then just like that, Soundwave is calm and it’s not so bad. No longer overwhelmed by them. “What is that?”

• “EM field,” Soundwave murmurs and Starscream stiffens. Hadn’t realized you could pick up on that and he grimaces realizing you can definitely feel his hostility toward Soundwave if you can. Forcing it down, he vents softly and you look up at him, offering him a little smile. “Possibly from the excess bonds or the new spark,” Soundwave adds, servo sliding lazily against your cheek. Because they’re in uncharted territory, figuring things out by trial and error. Wings flaring out slightly when Megatron wanders closer to study you, your shoulders hunch as his field becomes anxious at the warlord’s nearness to you.

• Smiling lazily down at you as your expression becomes wary, Megatron reaches to pick you up and both of your other mates stiffen. Starscream hissing at him, but not making a move to try and take you back, probably afraid of accidentally hurting you. “Now that I’m sure I can’t accidentally spark you, I think I should claim what’s mine,” he growls, enjoying the way the Seeker bares his denta. “After all, you’re my mate, too.” Turning and letting himself out of the habsuite to head toward his own, he rumbles a laugh as you scowl up at him. ‘You just can’t help tormenting him, can you?’ You ask meaning Starscream and he rubs a servo against your jaw. “Trust me, pet. He deserves much worse.”

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[flyingwargle]

wip week day 5: your favorite wip

since none of my irls go here, i can share i've been secretly writing a sunaosa nsfw longfic 😆 i've been enjoying it a lot, but since i never post a longfic until it's complete, i don't know when it'll be ready. when it is, it'll be on my alt. here's a snippet from the 1st chapter!

note: the snippet below is not explicitly nsfw but contains depictions of drinking and mentions of adult themes.

18+ only under the cut!

the longer he sits on it, the more he acknowledges how odd his position is. it isn’t like he’s behind on life milestones – he has a job, lives independently from his family, and his paycheck allows him to indulge every so often. at the same time, his longest relationship lasted eight months, he hasn’t traveled further than shikoku, and he uses porn to get off. what is he doing with his life? is this what he has to look forward to for the rest of his life?

“hey, gorgeous.”

suna startles at the address. there are others at the bar; surely that greeting was aimed at them?

“in front o’ ya.”

no, it’s aimed at him. he raises his head at the young man in front of him, hands in the pockets of his coat, a wry smirk on his face. beneath the club’s strobe lights, he realizes the man’s hair is dyed gray, a darker shade than his eyes, which reminds him too much of a certain dom from his fantasies. he coughs, glances around, just in case there’s suddenly another man beside him. “are you…talking to me?” him, wearing his old university hoodie and black jeans? really?

“is there anyone else here?”

it’s a simple retort yet conveys amusement. “mind if i take a seat?” suna shakes his head, and the man sits on the empty bar stool beside him. “i saw ya by yerself, an’ i thought, ain’t it a crime fer a man like yerself ta be alone? apologies fer bein’ presumptuous, if yer waitin’ fer a partner or anythin’.”

“uh.” four years of higher education are completely wasted on him, apparently, if he can’t think of anything intelligent to respond with. “no. i’m alone.” he’s hopelessly enraptured by the man’s entire demeanor, from the way his coat hugs his body, lights glint off his styled hair, head turned to face him entirely.

“glad ta hear it. could i buy ya a drink?” he raises an arm, and the bartender slides toward them. “i’ll take whiskey on the rocks. fer yerself?”

suna gulps down the last of his drink and pushes the glass forward. “a refill, please.” the bartender’s gaze lingers a moment on him but says nothing when he takes the empty glass, moving aside to make their orders. the man turns back to him, resting an arm on the counter.

“i haven’t seen ya ‘round here before. is this yer first time?”

“yeah. just needed someplace for a quick drink.” suna is careful to keep his tone even, guarded. he can never be sure of this man’s intentions, not when they look about the same age. the bartender’s look doesn’t inspire confidence either; what if this man is a regular who takes home unsuspecting single people? “wanted to chase away the corporate blues.”

he chuckles, and heat flushes through suna, suddenly more affected by it than his drink. “yeah? what kinda work d’ya do?”

“corporate slave for some overseas company. you?”

“ah, that definitely needs ta be chased down with some alcohol. i’m…more o’ a freelancer.”

“freelancer who flirts with single men caught in the throes of capitalism, it seems.”

a hint of teeth shows when the man curls his lip into a grin. “ya bet.” the bartender returns with their drinks, and the man slides his mojito closer, lifting his own glass. “here’s ta poisonin’ ourselves in a society that works us ta the bone.”

they toast, ice cubes shifting from the resounding clink, and throw their heads back for a sip. suna welcomes the renewed buzz from his rum, warmth stirring the bottom of his belly, tongue coated in the sweet concoction. “what’s yer name?” the man asks.

suna opens his mouth, closes it. he takes another sip. “rin. yours?”

“osamu. d’ya live in the city?”

“yeah. my office is in the area, and i didn’t feel like drinking with my coworkers, so…” he trails off, careful not to overshare to a complete stranger. although…he can’t shake off the feeling he knows him from somewhere, but the combination of the heavy bass and alcohol muddles his thoughts. “you have an accent, so you aren’t from around here?”

“i was born in hyogo, but i live in osaka. m’just here fer work.”

“wow. must’ve been nice to have all the wagyu you could dream of.”

another chuckle. either the man is easily amused, or suna still has his spark. “i’m flattered ya think i coulda afforded it on a regular basis.”

“whiskey’s a drink for people with money. that coat looks like it costs more than what i earn in a month.”

osamu smirks, dainty fingers reaching to unbutton it. “s’my only coat, so i figured i should spend a lil’ more ta make sure it keeps me warm durin’ the colder months.” with his other hand, he gestures at his hoodie. “i know some folks who graduated there. what did ya study?”

“graphic design and photography. i didn’t think i’d work in tech after graduation, but…” he shrugs, bringing his glass to his lips. “the pay is good. the work sucks, but that’s most things in life. what about you?”

“i travel ‘round a lot, talkin’ ta people an’ the like. tokyo’s one o’ my usual haunts, but there’s always so much ta see an’ do.” the coat slides off osamu’s shoulders and folded on top of the counter. “any restaurants or lesser-known places ya could recommend me?”

“i usually eat cheap since that’s all i can afford…” the last words die on his tongue, feels his heart race as his eyes sweep across his companion. tucked into his black pants is a gray collared shirt, the same shade as metal hidden from the sun. across his upper chest is a leather harness thin straps held together with silver loops, and when the dance floor lights up, the outline of a fox is embroidered on the side of his shirt.

suna feels his blood turn cold, mind flashing with a thousand different images, both real and imagined.

[bajablasttacobell]

Love Is His Only Limit

“Nothing is permanent except change.” Thanos was once told; he was unsure of what to make of it at first. Changes were unpredictable.

Unpredictability had been the very thing to bring him closer to Namgyu, though, and it was what he needed at the time.

Someone to motivate him to be the best version of himself.

-

A story in which Thanos & Namgyu set off into recovery together.

——————

TW: Implied/ Referenced Drug use and Self harm

——————

So I don’t usually post my writing here but I figured I would give it a try idk. I’m not confident in it but I think this fic is atleast a little better than the last one I posted.

This is also on my Ao3 @pepperzanne. Which has more of my works.

So below this cut is the first chapter. I would love to know what you think afterwards❤️‍🩹

-

“Nothing is permanent except change.”

Thanos was once told, he was unsure of what to make of it at first. Changes were unpredictable.

Now everything he had, began to change and warp into a reality he was unsure of.

He couldn’t control any of it.

That’s what Thanos was most scared of.

Things he was familiar with becoming unrecognizable. That’s what the life he had been living turned into.

When he entered the building he didn’t know what it could have been filled with.

Crazies.

Lunatics.

Junkies.

All the things Thanos knew he was not. He was a legend. History was made with him, and he would go down with it.

Sometimes history isn’t always good, in his case, it definitely wasn’t.

From a world renowned rapper, to a so-called ‘drug addict who couldn’t keep it together’.

There were many other titles he had earned recently. The more he consumed them though the more he felt like he was losing his mind.

Thanos hated thinking about it. Especially despised talking about it, because he couldn’t understand why everyone thought something was wrong with him.

He was young, fresh as a daisy. Like a flower Thanos was bright and fully alive.

His painted nails were the brightness he saw, all neon colors. Running a finger over them, he clenched and unclenched his fist.

“Choi Subong, drug addict, Bipolar Disorder.” The doctor previously referred to himself as Mr. Im.

He didn’t seem to be addressing Thanos but it still caught his attention as he looked up. Like a deer caught in headlights he froze.

Stopped picking at his nails, ceasing all movement as he deciphered the man in front of him.

A white coat, suspiciously clean. Blue scrubs underneath that, a light blue that wouldn't strain your eyes if you looked too long.

Not really Thanos' choice of clothing if he was honest. He liked the attention and the way eyes always followed as he walked past.

That is why he had been so good in the limelight up until now. Attention, Thanos craved it, needed it to survive.

Without everybody thinking about him and wondering his next move, who was he even?

What was he?

A failure?

Thanos shook his head to himself, taking his lingering eyes off Mr. Im only for a second. He didn’t trust this doctor.

Barely trusted anyone anymore. After his so called buddies exposed him. He supplied them with every thing they could ask for.

Money, drinks, drugs. Ask and name it Thanos gave it to those sons of bitches! Even his girls left him if those guys wanted ‘em.

All that just to be turned around and stabbed in the back when things were going south. They told everyone, news outlets, ran to social media.

Words spread fast.

Thanos clenched his jaw in anger. Rage. Upset. All of the above.

“Mr. Choi are you listening?” Mr. Im asked

Thanos snapped his head up. It had been so long since he was addressed as that.

No follow up question came from the man.

He would have to speak, he couldn’t, Thanos would mess up again.

He always did.

Mr. Im waited for a response, anything really.

He was met with an uncomfortable silence that spoke more than the man in front of him did.

“As I was saying, since your being admitted with no record we will put you in a room by yourself. Monitor your progress and move from there.” Mr. Im waved his hands around motioning for so on.

“No I- this isn’t-“ Thanos started but quickly fumbled over his words.

He was no idiot, he knew exactly what he wanted to say but his body would cooperate.

Mr. Im just stayed silent, encouraging Thanos to continue.

“I won’t be staying here.” Thanos finally got a sentence out. He deserved a pat on the back.

There was no falter in Mr. Im, he wasn’t intimidated.

“Unfortunately, your guardian decided this is what’s going to help you the most, trust us this is for your best interest in mind.” He said

Thanos wasn’t angry, at first. The more he thought about it though the more it just bubbled up.

He was a grown adult and he didn't need to be watched. He wanted to say anything, spit something out.

Thanos couldn’t.

“Recently a new nurse has come to our unit, she will watch over you. Jung Da-Eun.” As soon as he said it on que she walked in.

A bright smile on her face but her body language hinted she was incredibly nervous. Her fingers intertwined, she stood too straight for comfort as if to seem out together.

The tight-lipped smile, although it seemed stretched out, looked real. She nodded towards Thanos reaching a hand out.

“Your name is Choi Subong I have heard?” She questioned

“Thanos.”

The look on her face was definitely confusion but not in a ‘this guys an idiot what is he on about’ way more like a ‘I’m curious but I shouldn’t really dig into’ way.

She decided not to say anything again and quickly retracted her hand. Like Thanos would bite her or something.

He should’ve.

“She will escort you to your room now, any belongings you have been brought to the room. Some things might have not made it passed inspection and were taken away. Any further questions ask Ms. Jung here.” Mr. Im finally finished.

Thanos waited a moment before standing up. Just waiting for this lady to make another move.

As if she could read his thoughts she began to walk out of the room.

He followed behind her as he dragged his feet to prolong the walk.

“So, Thanos, where do you get that nickname from?”

“Not a nickname, just my name.” Thanos muttered under his breath.

If she heard him or didn’t he couldn’t care. He just wanted out before he even stepped foot into this pathetic place.

Thanos used to mean something, represent him.

A legend.

He would return one day. The world would just have to wait and see.

Thanos would show them all.

Ms. Jung suddenly stopped in front of a door before sliding it open, beckoning for Thanos to head inside.

When he walked in, it was bland.

If there was anything he hated more than unoriginality, it was blandness. The room was painted in a soft pink color. A window next to the bed. A cubby looking-ish locker was on the other side of the room.

The thing that Thanos disliked the most was the camera in the corner of the room, the red beeping seem to mock him.

He knew they didn’t trust him, he understood that fact. But to be watched? Every move they would calculate.

The very thought of the situation had him slowly spiraling.

He clenched his jeans fabric. Breathing fastening.

So focused on the red blinking of the camera.

He knew they were watching.

His skin crawled at the fact.

He was so focused in fact he didn’t realize the nurse had been calling to him.

“Mr. Choi?” She repeated

Thanos looked over at her slowly coming back to his senses.

“Look, they aren't always watching the cameras!” She said, trying to reassure him.

Was she…?

Lying?

To him,

Thanos,

the legend,

the creator?

Did she think he was a fucking idiot? He knew what they did here. They pitied people like him.

People who should be ruling this damned world.

He should be a king, he is a king in fact.

Being treated as one was his best memory in fact.

They handpicked grapes and fanned him with a leaf when they wanted something from him.

He should be crowned by his very status.

Oh, Thanos the great forgive us! They would plead for his mercy.

How could such a powerful man fall?

Betrayal.

It all came at once in full swing too. Thanos couldn’t even take a breath and assess what happened before they put him in this hellhole.

They were just dirty pieces of scum beneath his foot. All he did was let them get to close.

He would never make that mistake again.

It almost cost him his life.

When things got rough he wasn't stable enough to handle it.

At the end of the day all Thanos was is a man.

A man is all he would ever be.

Nothing special.

Nothing that could or should be remembered as relevant anyways.

Pushing people away and building walls kept enemies away.

It would be the Thanos way or no way.

He didn’t care anymore.

His pride may have been getting the better of him as of recently. So what? No humble man got anywhere.

They wouldn’t talk about all the amazing things Thanos did if he didn’t bring it up first.

People called him insufferable for that fact.

What did they know?

The closest they got to the worthiness of the best was when they would kiss his feet.

So for this nobody, this woman.

To even dare to lie to such a great being?

The audacity.

She would find out one way or another just how amazing he was.

Here it was again the pride that got him here in the first place.

For so long no one corrected Thanos, he was not approachable.

That was his mistake.

Only a fool would not accept any change in his life.

For no change meant no betterment.

Betterment was what Thanos needed. The pride in him denied him that fact though.

He just scoffed at her and walked further into the room. She followed behind closely.

Brushing past him gently she walked in front of him and motioned towards the bed.

“Here is a change of clothes from your assigned hospital scrubs.” Nothing about that statement filled him with joy.

Yet she always spoke so joyfully.

It made him want to rub that smile straight off her face. Thanos had to control himself.

The more control he had the faster he could leave.

He only nodded in response and waited for anymore instructions.

“I’ll be back soon with your medication, please feel free to get accustomed to your new room.” She said before walking out

Now it was just Thanos.

And his awful thoughts.

The very same ones that got him stuck here.

-

Ms. Jung had returned a while after, a tray in hand. On it were three pills and a cup of water.

Thanos had already been told the medication they had prescribed him. So when she repeated what was on the tray he didn’t care to listen.

“Ah! I see you changed into your scrubs, when you are released we will give you your original clothing back.”

That was probably another lie too.

She sat the tray on the table and handed the first pill to Thanos.

He took it down easily and didn’t even use the water. Thanos was a master at popping pills by this point.

“Im sure the water will help you swallow them Mr. Choi.” She said in that sickly sweet way. Handing the cup over.

Thanos didn’t feel like arguing so he just took the rest of his pills with the water.

She was kind of right, it didn’t burn as badly going down his throat.

Speaking of, she cleared her throat. “Before I go, could you open wide for me? I need to make sure you swallow them.”

Thanos was dumbfounded at that. How many stupid procedures did they have going on here?

He was sick of this place already. Being treated like a child was just another con.

It reminded him of when he would be at the dentist and the doctor would claim Thanos needed to brush his teeth everyday.

Thanos did brush them every morning and night for his concern.

Okay, every morning.

More like once a week.

Look, it doesn't matter. He just hated to be accused of things. Why trust was such a hard concept was a mystery to him.

He was still getting the ropes of it anyway. His ‘friends’ , more like douchebags, had clearly no understanding of it themselves.

Begrudgingly he opened his mouth lifting his tongue.

She made a sound of approval and made her way over to the door.

Ms. Jung turned back around to face Thanos.

“You could always walk around, it's now the free hours of the day! Meeting other patients often make the stay a little better.”

Thanos just shrugged her off.

Her smile didn’t falter.

“I’ll be back later tonight for your night pills, have a good day Mr. Choi!”

Why did she always insist on doing that?

Mr. Choi…

Mr. Choi.

Mr. Choi!

It was a horrible reminder of what he would never be like. The next time he saw her he would insist she call him Thanos from now on.

Anyway he got up and took one last look around the room. He wasn’t nervous to be around the other patients.

In fact he knew he would be gracing them with his presence! He is just that awesome.

What if they didn’t think that though?

What if-

No.

Thanos had to stop with all these improbable situations. They got him nowhere but in a deep corner of doubt.

His hand lingered on the room's door.

Carefully he pushed it open as if any more strength would break it down.

The hallway was warmer than his room which was nice. Thanos took a step outside and look down the hall.

No one.

He looked the other direction.

No one.

It was like they all knew he was coming so they scrambled to their rooms. He wouldn’t be surprised at this point.

Slowly he walked down the hall and turned the corner. He saw a room with glass paneling completely see through.

The doors were open, many other patients were inside already.

The walls were decorated with drawings and bean bags laid in different corners of the room.

A ping pong table was in there too.

Thanos took his time walking in there, trying to keep his composure up.

He couldn’t help messing with the hem of the new shirt. The fabric made him feel incredibly itchy.

How was he supposed to get better if these were the conditions he was provided with?

Thanos stood in the middle of the room just taking in the feel of everything. There were patients occupying almost every aspect of the room.

For once in his life, Thanos felt like he didn’t belong.

No one was paying attention to him which should be a good thing. Minding your business keeps you safe.

Attention was what Thanos strived off though.

He thought about it only for a moment longer before shrugging it off. In the left corner by the art pieces was a free beanbag.

No one was nearby so he wouldn’t have to start another awkward conversation asking how their day was.

He didn’t care if it sucked or the best day they had in years.

The beanbag was cushiony. Soft.

Thanos sunk into it, he was instantly absorbed by it.

He tried to reposition so he wasn’t falling into it. The attempt failed miserable.

He struggled to sit up in the chair.

Thanos gave up and just got up all together, he was over it by now.

Nothing had stood out to him and he saw everything he needed to do his next best choice of action was to just rest.

A feeling of tiredness worsened by the moment even though it was with him this whole day in general.

He sighed.

At first when he walked back to his room he was confident he was just supposed to take a turn.

Right or left?

Thanos cursed himself for not taking care to remember.

He would he there eventually so he just went down one hallway and every single door looked the same.

By now he was incredibly sleepy barely able to keep his eyes open.

So when he was hurrying past a corner he didn’t even think to slow down in case someone was there.

A collision ensued.

“Agh!”

The person made a noise between a groan and a sound of shock.

Thanos snapped his head to look at whoever dared to bump into him.

He wanted to give them a piece of his mind, about to start throwing insults before he was stopped.

Breathtakingly the man trembled. Rubbing his hands nervously.

The man wore round glasses and his hair was longer. A deep black like the midnight skies.

His skin glowed like the moon though, a lighter color compared to Thanos tanned skin.

Night was always Thanos favorite time of day.

This guy also wore the same hospital issued scrubs so he was probably a patient too.

Even though they could be there for the same reasons Thanos couldn’t help but look down on him.

This man trembled like a leaf, like the wind would just pick him up and carry him forward.

The demeanor of this guy was feeble.

“Hey, watch where you're going.”

Thanos finally said to the man.

Nervously the guy fidgeted with his glasses. Not even acknowledging Thanos.

Like a weirdo he was muttering under his breath about some enemy?

“T-the enemy has found the mage at his lowest mana source…”

Mana?

Mage?

What was this guy on about?

Thanos was about to knock some sense into him. Instead he focused his energy elsewhere.

He brought his hand up to just fix his hair, that was all.

As soon as he raised his arm the guy flinched.

Recoiled.

As if Thanos was going to hit him. He would have deserved it for disturbing the legend.

Defensively the guy covered his face and took a step back.

Dramatic much. Thanos couldn’t help but feel a little bad. He knew the dude just probably had issues.

Instinctuality Thanos reached out to him, to comfort. Something he didn’t get often.

He stopped halfway through the motion though because between his arms, Thanos saw the look on the guy's face.

Pure terror.

He hadn’t even done anything bad to the dude.

His breathing fastened as he stared at Thanos, making no move to escape.

Behind those eyes Thanos saw layers. That consisted of horrible experiences.

The eyes had seen and felt too many things.

How could Thanos even know that? It was unexplainable, he was always impressively good at reading people.

“Namgyu!” A nurse ran over like this had happened before.

She quickly calmed him down and reassured him everything was okay.

He seemed to finally relax but it looked like he was still unsure of Thanos' next move.

And just like that, he was gone. Just as fast as he appeared.

-

Namgyu.

The name ran through Thanos' thoughts over and over again.

This guy was so weird, his actions and words he spoke just struck Thanos as odd.

Despite the tiredness he felt before, Thanos laid awake for what felt like hours.

It was because his brain was unable to relax. That was the issue he often had when he wanted to sleep.

His body could feel psychically tired but his brain could go many more hours.

Thanos just shuffled around trying to fix his position in bed. Preferrering to lay on his side.

Ms. Jung had found him in that hallway.

He was unsure of how long he stood there.

The next thing he knew was she was coming to give his night time medication and put him to bed.

After that, it was just him replaying the earlier interaction in his head.

Why was Thanos so stuck on this?

It wasn’t like he cared.

He certainly didn’t.

He just put it off on the fact that the guy had actually spooked Thanos more than the other way around.

No one had ever reacted to Thanos like that before. Maybe that’s why he was still shocked about this.

Or maybe it was the way he was so defenseless, that made him ponder about it more.

He didn’t care though.

Thanos wasn’t like that.

He wouldn’t give it another thought.

Not even in his dreams.

————

So I already have chapter two done, let me know if you would like to see any continuation in this! Also Namgyu is basically Kim seo wan except well he’s not and also has a different backstory.

:))

[lunarandlace]

The naturals review (spoiler free)

i'm not really good in spoiler free reviews, so I hope this doesn't suck

• Description: Seventeen-year-old Cassie is a natural at reading people. Piecing together the tiniest details, she can tell you who you are and what you want. But it’s not a skill that she’s ever taken seriously. That is, until the FBI come knocking: they’ve begun a classified program that uses exceptional teenagers to crack infamous cold cases, and they need Cassie. What Cassie doesn’t realize is that there’s more at risk than a few unsolved homicides—especially when she’s sent to live with a group of teens whose gifts are as unusual as her own. Sarcastic, privileged Michael has a knack for reading emotions, which he uses to get inside Cassie’s head—and under her skin. Brooding Dean shares Cassie’s gift for profiling but keeps her at arm’s length.Soon, it becomes clear that no one in the Naturals program is what they seem. And when a new killer strikes, danger looms closer than Cassie could ever have imagined. Caught in a lethal game of cat and mouse with a killer, the Naturals are going to have to use all of their gifts just to survive. (This is goodread description )

Review: 4.5/5 🌟

Surprisingly I enjoyed this book more than I enjoyed the grandest game and don't ask me why I don't know myself, even if I love the grandest game characters more than the naturals but this one was more fun to read.

The first 50% of the book felt more like an introduction to the program of the naturals. What is the natural program ? how to think like the fbi? You also get to know the characters, their abilities, and their interactions with each other. That doesn't mean it was boring, It was actually fun to get to know them and their interactions with each other. I think Jennifer is great at writing characters, i also love how her chapter are short and how fast pased her books are! Even when they were working on cold cases, you feel like you're a part of the team, too, like you're also learning how to investigate and if you've read tig you will see thing and notice clues faster.

As for the other 50% is when the real investigation begins! Is the serial killer on the loose? Who is it ? Are they gonna be able to catch it before it's too late? You will want answers and won't stop reading till you get them.. I couldn't put the book down .at the last pages, my mouth was like an o and me screaming "WHATTT" in the middle of my room.

As for the romance, ik it says it's a love triangle, but to me, tbh it is clear while reading who she's gonna end up with ! 🤭

I haven't got spoiled on who she actually ended up with btw but it's obvious! I will write more of my thoughts on another post because there will be spoilers.

In conclusion, I definitely recommend it . It deserves so much more hype, tbh I didn't have that much high expectations since it's not popular, like I expected it to be good but not THAT good.👌❤️‍🔥

Tw: There's descriptions of the serial killer torturing their victims, letting you know in case you're uncomfortable!

[lucky-clover-gazette]

prince's gambit highlights & annotations

chapter 20

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

When laced into his clothing, Laurent’s dangerous grace lent him an almost androgynous quality. Or perhaps it was more accurate to say that it was rare to associate Laurent with a physical body at all: you were always dealing with a mind.

goals

Damen knew his body now. He knew the surprise that gentle attention could draw from him. He knew his lazy, dangerous assurance, his hesitancies . . . his sweet, tender hesitancies. He knew the way that he made love, a combination of explicit knowledge and almost shy reticences.

Stirring drowsily, Laurent shifted a fraction closer and made a soft, unthinking sound of pleasure that Damen was going to remember for the rest of his life. And then Laurent was blinking sleepily, and Damen was watching Laurent grow aware of his surroundings and come awake in his arms. He wasn’t sure how it would be, but when Laurent saw who was beside him, he smiled, the expression a little shy but completely genuine. Damen, who hadn’t been expecting it, felt the single painful beat of his heart. He’d never thought Laurent could look like that at anyone.

cat. energy.

They were gazing at one another.

always

Damen found himself saying, ‘You talk the same in bed,’ and the words came out sounding like he felt: helplessly charmed.

<3

‘I like the way it feels,’ said Laurent. ‘I liked the way it felt. You’re a generous, giving lover, and I feel—’ Laurent broke off, and gave a shaky laugh at his own words. ‘I feel like the Vaskian tribe, in the body of one person. I suppose it is often like this?’ ‘No,’ said Damen. ‘No, it’s—’ It’s never like this. The idea that Laurent might find this with someone else hurt him.

damen going from passive polyamory to determined monogamy after one night with laurent, who doesn’t even know how to fuck like a normal person… that’s love babyyyy

also they’re so good, i don’t have much to say with these passages other than i love them and i love their love and i think they’re both being honest despite the lies between them. i really honestly have to think that, because anything else is heartbreaking. this is real and the text supports it so shut up

‘The Prince is occupied with other matters. You are to leave before he returns.’ He felt unsteady. He understood that what he had missed in sleeping was not his deadline but the last moments with Laurent, the last kiss, the final parting. Laurent wasn’t here because he had chosen not to be here.

In the curve of its metal was every humiliation of his time in this country, every frustration at Veretian confinement, every indignity of an Akielon serving a Veretian master. Except that it was Kastor who had put the collar on him, and Laurent who was freeing him. It was made from Akielon gold.

THERE YOU GO.

‘I can’t,’ said Damen. ‘I can’t have this for just one night.’

He had come to this fort a slave. He would ride out of it Damianos of Akielos. It was like shedding a skin, discovering what lay beneath. The first cuff sprang apart under Guerin’s rhythmic strikes and he faced his new self. He was not the headstrong prince he had been in Akielos. The man he had been in Akielos would never have served a Veretian master, or fought alongside Veretians for their cause. He would never have known Laurent for what he was; never have given Laurent his loyalty or held Laurent’s trust for a moment in his hands. Guerin moved to strike the gold from his left wrist, and he pulled it back. ‘No,’ he heard himself say. ‘Leave that one on.’

i love when things are on the page so i don’t have to analyze/summarize them myself. he’s been changed and he knows he can’t go back to the person he was, nor does he want to

His horse was being led forward. Not only a riding horse but a pack horse, a sword, clothing, supplies. Is there something you want? Laurent had asked him once. He wondered what ornate Veretian parting gift might lurk in those packs and knew instinctively that there was none. He had maintained from the beginning that he had wanted only his freedom. And that was exactly what he had been given.

a kingdom or this i hate it here

‘He’s gone for a ride,’ said Jord. ‘It was his habit in the palace, too, when he needed to clear his head. Not the type for goodbyes.’

horse girl avoidance. ouch.

‘I didn’t do it for Aimeric,’ said Damen.

he just didn't like seeing laurent being scary after they kissed (and cares about laurent and wanted to help him calm down and collect himself)

Against the pomp of the Regent’s emissary Laurent was a single rider casually dressed. But then, he had never needed anything other than his hair to identify him.

yeah damen you'd say that

‘This one pleaded for you. He tried to stand for the wrong side. He suffered the fate of any man who sides with the pretender prince against the King.’ The soldier pulled the bag away from the severed head. It was a fortnight’s hard ride, in hot weather. The skin had lost all the freshness that youth had once lent it. The blue eyes, always his best feature, were gone. But his tumbled brown hair was dressed with star-like pearls, and from the shape of his face, you could see that he had been beautiful. Damen remembered him stabbing a fork into his thigh, remembered him insulting Laurent, blue eyes bright with invective. Remembered him standing alone and uncertain in a hallway dressed in bedclothes, a young boy poised on the edge of adolescence, fearing it, dreading it. Don’t tell him I came, he’d said. They had always, from the beginning, had a strange affinity. This one pleaded for you. Spending, perhaps, the last of his fading currency with the Regent. Not realising how little currency he had left. Whether his beauty would survive adolescence no one would ever know, for Nicaise would not see fifteen now.

this is beautifully written.

In the glaring light of the courtyard, Damen saw Laurent react, and make himself not react.

but he reacted. which from laurent is a pretty big deal.

‘My uncle has killed his catamite,’ said Laurent. ‘As a message to us. And what is the message?’ His voice carried. ‘That his favour cannot be trusted? That even the boys in his bed see how false is his claim to the throne? Or that his hold on power is so flimsy that he fears the words of a bought child whore? ‘Let him come to Charcy, with his hithertos and his wherefores, and there he will find me, and with all the might of my kingdom I will scourge him from the field. ‘And if you want a personal message,’ said Laurent, ‘You can tell my uncle boykiller that he can cut the head off every child from here to the capital. It won’t make him into a king, it will simply mean he has no one left to fuck.’

good speech. especially the last line. you can see how his emotions are bleeding through, but they just give him more power.

‘It’s noon,’ said Jord. The words sounded harsh, like they hurt his throat. ‘He needs me,’ said Damen. ‘I don’t care if you tell the world.’

note from post-chapter 21 sam: the fact that laurent meticulously arranged an upcoming situation in which damen is exposed, partially if not entirely to spite him, because he doesn't realize that damen loves him and cares about him even as damianos, because damen and damianos are the same person... asdfighsdauf

‘You’ve outstayed your welcome,’ said Laurent. ‘Don’t do this. If you ride to meet your uncle unprepared you will lose everything you’ve fought for.’ ‘But I won’t be unprepared. Pretty little Aimeric is going to give up everything he knows, and when I’ve wrung every last word out of him maybe I’ll send what’s left to my uncle.’ Damen opened his mouth to speak but Laurent cut him off in a whiplash order to Damen’s escort: ‘I told you to get him out of here.’ And he put his heels in his horse, and drove it past Damen’s, up the steps to the dais, where he dismounted in one fluid motion, and headed in the direction of Aimeric’s rooms. Damen found himself facing Jord. He didn’t need to look up to see the position of the sun. ‘I’m going to stop him,’ said Damen.

this entire sequence of events is such a masterful culmination of previous scenes and ongoing themes from the rest of the book

Laurent stood still two steps from him, all the lines of his body rigid.

god this sucks for him so bad, especially after the way he treated aimeric before. like it sucks more for aimeric and nicaise, who are dead, but laurent has to live with this, having discovered them both at almost the same time. and all that, after a night of incredible vulnerability with damen and then accepting that he’s going to lose him.

That he had neat handwriting shouldn’t have been a surprise. He had always striven to perform his duties well. On the march he had worn himself into the ground trying to keep up with stronger men. A fourth son, thought Damen, waiting for someone to notice him. When he wasn’t trying to please, he was baiting authority, as though negative attention could substitute for the approval that he sought—that he had been given, once, by Laurent’s uncle. I’m sorry, Jord. They were the last words anyone would have from him.

the immense tenderness of the previous chapters is so abruptly and horrifically offset by nicaise and aimeric. it’s very well-done. it reminds us, and damen and laurent, that much exists outside of their love and their lies to each other.

… but maybe they can get through it, together? (it’ll be a while but it’s where we’re heading. eventually.)

[thelongestway]

Yeah, this chapter is why I wanted to get more pre-writing done, haha! Getting all the timelines and such straight hasn't been easy, even with the help of A LOT of people (both early readers and folks in my writing spaces). But then again - it's not really easy for the characters, either! As the old adage goes, if you're having trouble figuring something out - write about the trouble. :P

Chapter 4: Picnic

After about three hours, the meeting had devolved from "highly formal three-way exchange of information" to "a bunch of humans, two constructs and one audio-and-visual only, feed cut (just in case) drone slumped on every available chair, couch and surface, surrounded by half-empty vessels containing vitamin-enriched beverages and staring at the screen where they watched footage and ART made diagrams." Several big circles contained the largest points of contention. The first read: ALIENS vs ANTARCTICA. The second: ORGANIC COMPONENT -> WORMHOLE SPEED? The third, most recently introduced: DEFINITION OF LIFE.

"You know that the discussion has gone completely sideways when that last one appears," Ratthi said to Dandelion, hanging his head back from the couch he was lying on feet up. She just nodded, two of her metallic arms entwined in a very human gesture.

"I'm just saying!" Iceblink exclaimed from where she was spread out on the floor, "I believe you about Perihelion being entirely non-organic, you've got zero reason to lie to us at this point! But on a theoretical level it's just bonkers. I was completely convinced it was like SecUnit when I worked with its data!"

"The fact that I am non-organic does not mean I am not alive," ART said.

"Peri," Seth groaned, "Let's not start round three. Please."

"Especially because this isn't actually getting us any closer to what we should be doing about the situation," Reed said, lifting kes head from having dropped it on kes arms in order to glare at Iceblink. "Let's try to boil this back down to the facts. Again. Haze, would you kindly?"

Haze cleared their throat and read off their communicator.

"An unknown organic component was installed on top of Perihelion's wormhole drive, which temporarily made it capable of going through wormholes at speeds matching the Tenacious' best. This organic technology originated from what PUMNT and Preservation designate as alien remnants, and also--thank you, Three, for that last addition--was apparently sourced from something the colonists called a Vault."

Thiago looked up from his linguistic puzzles for a moment. (He was the only one who looked remotely happy about the situation, having perked up significantly after hearing the Trellians speak. Now he had sequestered himself in a corner with an audio recorder and worked on formalizing their dialects).

"Capital V-Vault?"

That question seemed to catch Haze off-guard. They stuttered, and captain Reed said, "Yes, capital V-Vault. Go on, Haze."

"Ahem! Yes, this is important, because if it's a capital V-Vault, then it's the same designation the Hylaran materials port had! So that's one more point in favor of Antarctica, and not in favor of aliens."

"I don't know about that," Dandelion muttered. "At this point I am expecting for the Spider Queen to have had a secret representative office in Antarctica. Why did we ever think aliens would be politically easier?.."

"Aliens make everything harder," Martyn said seriously. He was holding Reed's communicator and poking at the data which Haze had uploaded. "But back to the subject at hand… The Breakoff virus does look remarkably like what we've been analyzing forward and back for the last month. But if it's human-originated, then I don't understand. What was the point?"

"We never found that out," Haze said. "I'm no historian, but if I remember correctly, pre-Breakoff communication was getting erratic. Antarctica itself wasn't doing well. And then, without warning, one of our next shipments made Mama go…" They swallowed. "She did grab people who were close to her. And change them. Until she was shut down for good. As was the Antarctican port."

"I hate to say this," Martyn squinted at Haze, then shook his head ruefully. "But from the moment I saw you, I thought there was something familiar about the way you were designed. One more point to pre-Rim genetic engineering traditions, I suppose."

"Maybe," Iris said, but then I stopped listening because ART poked me on our private channel. (I could have continued listening, but honestly, the humans were tired and mostly going in circles, so all I did was flash the 'humans need to take rest periods' sign on our screen, and paid most of my attention to ART).

By now ART had mostly cross-referenced the Trellians' virus data with its own via Iceblink's sacrificed terminal, and was 98% sure that the virus was not going to infect Dandelion. But that wasn't what it was working on primarily.

It was analyzing two potential resolution paths: (a), following the replacement schematic (because it had been right as usual: undergoing a complete drive replacement and wormhole navigation retraining would probably bring it back up to old baseline. It would just be long and very boring), and (b), potentially adding an organic component to its drive (ART saw at least three possible options, though it left them unspecified for now) or modifying its own programming to imitate one.

The organic options were relatively straightforward, if potentially creepy. (We had no idea what Dandelion did to herself to be a starship. ART had been pinging Dandelion for her organic component schematics for the last fifteen minutes, but she was ignoring it.) But that last one, I had no idea about. I sent ART a query.

The install on the explorer wasn't botched, ART said. The bot pilot was not complex enough, so replacing its subroutines destroyed it entirely. The same installation process did not destroy me.

That could take even longer than the refit, I said. If it's even possible.

I am a specialist in deep space research. And I learned about human emotions by watching media through your filters. Obviously, I can learn about wormhole jumps. But having an organic co-processor would be simpler, It sent another frustrated barrage of pings at Dandelion.

This time, she answered--aloud:

"Perihelion, do you want me to define 'quarantine' for you?"

"The contamination estimate is now below 0,3 percent." ART said. "I want to see your organic component."

The room became quiet instantly. Haze got up from where they were sitting and looked like they were about to begin an angry tirade at ART, but Dandelion raised an arm to stop her.

"Do you, now," she said, and my threat assessment jumped by 2 percent. "Very well. If SecUnit agrees to supervise a clean, feed cut drone of yours, then I have nothing against it. You may come back with us on the shuttle."

[omies-odd-writing-spot]

Lifeboat 15 Pie!

Chapter 15! its really just food talk and I have no shame. nomnomnom... Story also on Ao3

.

Good enough for the decorative outside ‘bitta homes’ was no longer good enough for Sesa. She was already on her third attempt at making an oven, sitting back in a chair with a hide cloth over her lap. Far enough away that any shards would not go flying towards food or where Lana was dosing.

The giant woman paused, shifting a bit to look at where Lana was stretched out on a clean washcloth. Sesa smiled, seeing that her new Bitta friend was actually asleep. Though it was only just becoming evening, and the most they had done was cleaning, looking at the garden and getting ready to make pie…Sesa supposed that it was a lot for someone so small. Tiny.

Sesa should really think about her dinner. She looked down at the sphere she had finally gotten into shape, then cut in half cleanly. It was all gathered up and folded into the leather to set on the chair. She liked carving granite rocks, they were always so pretty.

The woman leaned over, checking her own oven, finding the two pies inside were starting to turn colors. Grabbing another cloth that was not being used by a tiny fairy, Sesa gave the closer pie a little wiggle. Able to see what Lana meant. The pies were almost done cooking. Just a little more, and a rotation.

Sesa made a note to rebalance her oven. Likely should do the same for the older outside one too.

She paused, then got up to find the paper she and Lana had written an actual todo list down on. Mostly Sesa, but there was a tiny list in the margin that was Lana's native writing. The woman checked that Lana was still asleep before walking back to the inside hall and down to the cold room again. Looking for a nice piece of fish for her….their dinner. 

That would definitely take some getting used to.

At least Lana was small enough that sharing was almost an unseen amount.

Sesa paused at the bottom of the stairs, puzzled over her own thoughts. Yes Lana was tiny, and seemed filled up on next to nothing as Sesa knew it. But she seemed so full after eating the pancakes and berries. The scale was so different, it would take getting used to, but Sesa wanted to be sure Lana had enough not to get hungry like Sesa did this last winter.

Dinner secured, Sesa got back upstairs. Looking for the bag of tubers she had been using as a staple all winter. It was almost empty, with only ten sad ones left. The woman took them all, about the size of her thumb to palm size. Maybe she could fry them with some seasoning and cheese. She could get another bag soon at the trading post down hill.

Or make a trip worth leaving the mountain and take her boat farther down the coast to a farming town near the sea.

That would be smarter, but sesa would need some new vegetables soon.

Sesa glanced over to be sure Lana was still in the same spot. Getting a knife and cutting board to cut up the frozen fish into bite sized pieces. They were having a new pie as a treat, why not fry some fish up nice and tasty. Just in case, as a lot of the seasoning used in the pie were medical based.

Something savory would be nice.

Not that Sesa would waste the ‘squash pie.’ Food was food, and should not be wasted. Even though a lot of medicinal plants were used, it smelled really good in the kitchen, in the whole cabin now. 

The woman cut up the older tubers into disks. They were a bit soft but still usable, and Sesa took a few moments to cut a few thin pieces of the best sections for Lana. She should be able to use them for her own dinner. 

The pot with the thawing cream was checked again, Sesa trying to not make a lot of noise as she did so. Everything seemed to have thawed out pretty evenly. No chunks of ice and a good stirring would keep it consistent. A whisk should be around here, somewhere. That's what Lana said was needed, right?

Sesa debated and then shrugged.

It was the first real evening with the bitta, with Lana, might as well go all out. And this ‘whipped cream’ seemed to go with the pie and just sounded interesting on its own. The woman moved to get some water boiling, finding a good cup and some tea. Tea with some sweetener and cream sounded… good. 

Sesa glanced at Lana, who was sitting up on the washcloth and looking around confused, she wanted to go check on the tiny woman. Yet held back, not wanting to scare Lana after just waking up from her nap. There was also no real sense of need that it had to be done, Sesa realized. 

Lana was sitting up and getting some of her water, perfectly fine to look around then go check on the little oven and her own pie inside. 

It was… strange, but such a nice quiet between them. No stress of not knowing what to say yet, yet it was a relief that Lana spoke up first.

“How’s your pies?” Lana asked, once getting her own to rotate in the improvised ‘first draft’ oven. Then started to take the pan out to set on the counter at her feet. 

Sesa glanced at her own oven, peering inside, hesitantly using a cloth to move the pan. “Almost done I think. I got some fish for us, for dinner.”

Lana looked up, and then around, rearranging the cloth to be able to hold her pan against its heat. Moving it to the little set up counter for her and arranging it to be in the best spot to cool down. The Bitta watched as Sesa moved to show the cutting board on the other counter. “Sounds like a plan. Is it still frozen?”

“It's thawing.” Sesa assured, looking at the few things she set aside. “I found some good bits for you.”

“Thank you.” Lana smiled as she sat down, and then thought as the giant was moving about her kitchen. “Sesa? You know how you mentioned the…um, food cabinet? But able to keep things cold?”

“Yes?” Sesa started and then paused, looking at the small bit of meat on the cutting board. Then looked over at Lana. It was one of the best bits of the cut, but all at once Sesa seemed to realize that to scale, it was about four times the size of the filet to Lana as it would be to Sesa. “Oh! Oohh, yea I can make you one, and your own cold, freezing room…or box… you’re going to have a lot of boxes.”

“How about a cabinet or shelves that can be closed?” Lana smiled as she just watched sesa’s thoughts come across her face openly. It was an odd feeling realizing the giant woman was steadily, clearly letting her guard down over the day.

“Shelves,” Sesa thought aloud, thinking of her own cold room, and the shelves she used to store things. She looked over at the hutch-like shelf that held most dishes and other things for carving and crafting. “I can do that. Almost done with a better oven for you in your new home. We’ll have something made for you before bed tonight.” 

“It seems like it’s a lot later than it looks.” Lana said, looking over at the window that showed the late afternoon, turning evening light. Sesa was pulling her chair back around, using a fork to move some of the cut things on a, to her tiny tea cup saucer to bring over to Lana. It was still big enough for the bitta to sit on it with plenty of room to spare.

“Maybe your world had shorter days?” Sesa offered, watching as the bitta poked at the green fish meat puzzled. It was soft and looked like…

It looked like something expensive really.

It reminded Lana of lingcod with the color but was more like the texture of red meat. Even still mostly frozen, it had been good the other day, the little bits Lana had dared try. She was pretty sure she would not get sick.

Famous last words, but Lana had tried some of the fish… glow tail? Just a little.

Lana looked up and almost belatedly answered as she thought, “You know… you might be onto something. I left my phone with my things, I should check the time. And see if I can get that older charger working.”

“Charger?” 

“Um, yeah I haven’t really used it for a while.” Lana said, thinking how to explain, “I  have something that needs power to use it. My phone’s where I have notes and a calendar on it.”

Sesa tilted her head, looking puzzled but not overly surprised or alarmed. Just confused. Lana debated on going into detail to explain but it just felt so…awkward. 

“Is….this phone like one of those fancy communication spheres in the bigger cities?” Sesa asked, turning her attention back to the Bita after finding 

It was Lana’s turn to look puzzled. The bitta thought and hesitantly spoke, “...maybe? I have no idea what that is… my phone is like, hand sized to me?”

“And admittedly I never saw those things either, just read about them as I saw a picture.” Sesa admitted a bit sheepishly, “And it was a few years ago.”

Lana nodded, paused and then said, “Well, either way, I got some math to do I think.”

Sesa nodded, debating on what to do with the fish, not really wanting to bake it. Or frying it, or eating it raw now that she cut it up… the giant woman looked over at an odd sound and then paused. Watching Lana cracking another garden bird egg carefully into a bowl at her stove-counter space. Mixing the egg up with her cooking sticks….chop sticks?

“What are you doing?” Sesa asked, puzzled, seeing Lana get some flour in another bowl. Adding powdered seasonings that the bita had saved to the flour.

“I just want to try a few fried pieces.” Lana admitted as she looked for where the plate was, “fish and chips, sound good, and that seems like a potato. Can I have some more butter Sesa?”

“Yes… are you going to cook the fish like sweet fried dumplings?” Sesa sounded so confused, but reached for the container of butter, also moving her pan to a cooler spot..finding a knife and one of the little jars from that morning. It was easier to get butter in that and offer to Lana. 

“Kinda? But it's supposed to be savory. If it does not match up in taste I can use the seasoned flour and egg to make seasoned noodles.”

“...you know how to make noodles?” Sesa demanded, not offended but shocked, “That's something you can make? At home?”

The Bitta jumped a bit, then realized the giant was not upset. “Yeah? It's not hard? The hardest part is if you want long noodles. We can likely make some if you want? It'll be simpler types though.”

“yes!” Sesa blurted, then backed up at startling the human again. “Sorry. This is amazing Lana! I didn't know you can make them at home, how hard is it? I thought only restaurants had them…”

Lana took a deep breath, and then laughed, “Basic noodles aren't hard, it's making patterned noodles that's a bit harder to make without some tools. Do you have something like macaroni and cheese? Or Alfredo sauce? We can make a full rounded dinner for tonight to go with the pumpkin pie. We'd just nood another veggie. Well, not really. Or we do, make noodles tomorrow, and I'll show you how to make fish and chips?”

Sesa looked torn for a moment, then thought about it. The giant woman nodded, “fish…and chips…today. With pie. Yes. Noodles and pie tomorrow.”

“After that, we can make something like pot pie in the next few days, with all that extra dough for the pie crust you made.” Lana offered, “If you want, or something else you’re used to?”

“I want to try new things… and that nut pie in the paper. That sounds like two types of noodle dishes? I haven't had noodles in…in…years.”

“Well, you have cheese right? We can try a comfort food tomorrow.” Lana paused and added,  ��eLt's test another egg for you? Or we can use some of the cream, and get a bit of flour seasoned so you can try a piece or two and see if you like the taste before making a full batch.”

“Can you use cream?” Sesa asked, reaching for a bowl and then the flour. “What's the butter for?”

“I like to fry things in melted butter. Tastes good.” Lana admitted. “You can use any other oil though.”

The giant woman thought of that as she stared at the container of her butter. Then scooped some into her pan. “That sounds like a nice change from the oil roots. I haven’t used butter like that since… last fall. How much do you use Lana?” 

Lana paused and then added in a good amount, holding her little pot-pan to show Sesa. “Enough to cover the bottom with some to spare… wow I have a lot more here then normal I just realized...”

Sesa chuckled, adding a bit more to her pan and set it on the heat. Then remembered the pies and stooped to check them. Poking the pans and pulling them out to set on the counter as well. It smelled… good now. Surprisingly good as the woman took a few deep breaths.

For having a somewhat uncomfortable amount of medical herbs… it smelled and looked good.

And Sesa still had enough pie dough left over for another two shells. What was a pot pie?

“Do you remember what seasonings you used? I want to try what you did.”

[its-all-papaya]

Hi hi! Early warning for what is about to be a bit of a brain dump of an ask 😅

First and foremost overwinter is ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE!! Like, writing that makes me miss writing myself and the EMOTIONS - don’t even get me started on the EMOTIONS. It feels like you’re in my brain with how close to home they hit. Mindblowingly good!!!! It’s bittersweet how close to the end we are, but I’m so glad I can re-read this over and over again. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Being here from the beginning of the dad lando, thank you for sharing him with us.

Now - and feel free to hold onto this if it’s spoiler-y, or if I end up being totally wrong about this - but if chapter 17 ends up going where I think it’s going, THE PARALLELS TO CHAPTER 1?! BUT WITH THE GROWTH. Yes, the yelling is required, because I am so. ready. for. it. Advance credit to your mind!! I wish I could hear all the little bts as you were writing because I’m sure I’ve missed some others.

I definitely had a last thing to say earlier today, but alas work brain has stolen it from me. I’m sure I will be back when it’s all said and done. In the meantime, once again, I can’t express how much I’ve loved all of your updates 💕✨

hi anon, tysm for this lovely ask!!

it's so bittersweet for overwinter to be nearing its end... like how are we there already? but if it's any consolation, there almost certainly will be little bits of lando, oscar and emma that i share down the road. i doubt i'll ever be really done with them.

i fear you are giving me too much advance credit bc i'm sitting here like... are there parallels to chapter one in chapter seventeen?? and i can kind of see it now that you said it that way, but i promise i didn't do it on purpose LMAO. there's so much in this fic that was intentional, but i'd honestly say the parallels in 17 are closer to another (non-1) chapter. but the specific chapter i will not reveal, in case people want to figure it out themselves. sorry if that's a letdown.... the minute i read this i was like "oh fuck, i could have made 17 more parallel-y"... like anon the way you almost had me rewriting a chapter that's been done for WEEKS. anyway.

can't wait to see you back in my inbox soon!! so so so glad overwinter has resonated with you. this lando is also very dear to me, as are a lot of his emotions, so i'm glad he's meaningful to others <3

[multifandominfj]

A New Beginning: A Supergirl 6x20 Re-Write

Chapter Three: It’s A Long Story

“Well, Mxy came by and offered me a chance to change the timeline…”

“Aren’t you the person who said you’d never do that?” Lena asked.

“Yes, I know I sound like a hypocrite. But when Lex told you my secret before I did…and our…you're worth risking the timeline.”

“Kara…” Lena then scoots closer to wrap a warm arm around her girl, pulling her to her embrace as she gets her to lean back on the couch. “So what happened?”

“First, all realities ended up being hell. The first timeline Mxy showed me was during the Children of Liberty. I revealed I was Supergirl during a lunch date, but then Mercy Graves got in the way. After I come back…Mxy tells me you went to see Sam. She tries to convince you I’m still me, but you were too hurt. You were scared I’d see you like Lex. Because you didn’t make it back on time…I end up dying due to Agent Liberty poisoning the atmosphere.”

Lena could tell re-living this wasn’t easy for Kara. Now wasn’t the time for her to be asking questions. So, she simply offered a comforting embrace accompanied with forehead kisses, all the while, while stroking up and down her arm with feather-like delicateness.

“The next timeline was over the Kryptonite stash. I was Supergirl, and I revealed to you me as Kara. The look on your face…was one of the most devastating things I’ve felt. You tell me that you just found out Sam was a World Killer. You tell me that you can never trust me again, and don’t want to work with me. I…well, you can guess. What hurt more was seeing you not save other people just because of my own bone headedness of just wanting to protect you. Another timeline I had…”

Watching Lena die, even in a fake timeline, felt way too real. That moment was permanently ingrained in her memory; it was actually her greatest fear, she just had never outright said it.

“Reign killed you. You died in my arms. That pain was probably some of the worst I’ve experienced. Right up there with betraying you. It felt…”

“I’m not going anywhere, My Sunbeam.” Lena assured her by taking hold of Kara’s free hand, and squeezing tight.

“Another one had you testifying against Lillian. You refused to give up my identity. And the powerhouse that you are, you help win the case. But..,you end up getting kidnapped. The only way I could save you…was to reveal myself. I save you, but everyone else I love…” Kara’s voice became tight and shaky, and tears were definitely starting to form. “Agent Liberty killed them. Including Cat…”

She tries to take a steadying breath, to no avail; it doesn't really help. Just thinking about the last one was enough to make her cry.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” Lena hated seeing Kara cry.

“This last timeline was practically a dystopian Horror movie. Everyone was on the run. Brainy and Reign were minions. You were a dictator, Lena. And…you were turned into Metallo. You wanted me to fight you…but I couldn’t. You may have been evil, but even then, in that timeline where we weren’t friends…hurting the woman I love was out of the question.”

“I know this isn’t the point…but all of those timelines tell me that us meeting, and the journey we went on to get here…all of the pain and healing. It was worth it. You are worth it.” Lena lifts Kara’s chin, gently wiping away her tears; flashing her famous grin to ease away Kara’s fear.

“You truly are amazing, Lena. I’m still amazed that…I get to call you not only my girlfriend, but my partner in crime. To use your favorite Grey’s Anatomy quote…” She lets a chuckle slip past. “You’re my person. Forever and always.”

“El Mayarah.” Lena answered back.

“You get sexier every time you say that, you know.” Kara smirked.

“Oh I know I do.” Lena jokingly gloats as she leans down, closing the distance slowly. “I just never get tired hearing you saying variations of it.”

“Is that so?” Kara loved that Lena was just as big a dork as her. Reaching up to cup Lena’s architecturally strong jaw, she sealed the gap. Stroking her chin, kissing Lena was equally invigorating and calming. With lips as soft and delicate as butterfly wings, it was the Disney World fireworks every time Kara kissed the love of her life.

“I’m glad you finally told me. With everyone knowing who you are now, it can’t be easy dealing with your trauma now.” Lena finishes their kiss with a kiss on Kara’s adorable button nose.

“I’m glad I could tell you. I’ve been holding onto that for a long time, and it feels like I can stand straighter now.” Kara sighs with content.

“Since we are sharing, there’s something I should tell you.” Lena takes a deep breath. “You know the whole thing with Leviathan? While you were helpless, in the virtual unity festival…Acrata showed up.”

“What?” Kara was taken aback by that revelation.

“Yeah, she somehow had gotten manipulated by Lex, no surprise there. She…was told to kill you. I couldn’t let that happen, so…I stood in between you and the Kryptonite shard she was holding.”

“Lena. Do you know how dangerous that was? Granted it wouldn’t have harmed you like it does me, but one wrong move and…”

“I know Kara. But after how I treated you those few months, and the regret I felt for not realizing how stupid I was for not taking steps sooner to mend our relationship…risking my life and every breath I took for you was more than worth it.”

“I will keep saying this because it’s always going to be true…the Luthor name never deserved your kind, breathtaking, beautiful soul in their family. And I’m so glad that I get to be that for you now.” Kara had felt her body begin to fall asleep as she gave her girlfriend a dopey smile.

“Come on Sleeping Beauty, time for bed. We both know Esme is going to want to come over and ask you tons of questions.” Helping Kara up from the couch as walking over to the bed, Lena got in first so Kara could nuzzle close.

“That is very true.” Kara gives a sleepy laugh as she follows, getting under the covers then cuddling close to Lena in the alcove of her shoulder and chest. “Thank you…” Her eyes began to droop.

“For what, Kara?” Seeing that she was getting tired, Lena began to stroke Kara’s hair to help her sleep.

“For listening…and for loving me…” She dozed off to sleep, Kara’s train of thought coming to a hypnotic halt.

“Always.” Lena whispered, kissing Kara’s head one last time. “Sleep tight, My Sunbeam.” Reaching, she turns to shut off the lamp. Resting her head atop her love’s she would also doze off to a land of blissful sleep.

Here is Chapter Three! Hope you guys are liking the story so far 🙏🏻.

[celestie0]

How do u write such long fics......and method and tips u follow ^^...

Luv you recent choso fic chap 💗💗

hiii my dear tysm for the love for my new choso seriess i appreicate it :”) also apologies for the delay on answering this!!

ahh yes i think for me it’s just easier to write longer fics bc im able to get into headspace of characters a bit better (opposed to having a concept n getting into meat of things straight away perhaps like w a oneshot, i’m super bad at conceptualizing things easily unless there’s a more prolonged plot i guess) but also i think i just prefer longer length stories (always been a series over movies kinda gal)

kickoff is my first series n one of the first fanfics ive ever written so im most definitely still figuring things out as i go along 🤣 but sure i can share some of the methods & tips ive used!!

as for methods, i just plan out a general idea and premise at first that can help two characters get closer (kickoff case was just gojo n reader’s lil agreement to help eachother out w their favors) cuz i think thats really important to get a ball rolling. n then i sort of loosely planned the rest of the series but tbh i’ve scrapped soooo many ideas along the way lmfao. but that’s ok! there were chapters n scenes where certain things i had planned out just didn’t make sense or fit in the way i thought they would’ve, and i made a last minute decision (sometimes even mid writing a preplanned scene i would suddenly switch directions lmfao) but i think w longer fics its important to be flexible. it’s ok if plans change, sometimes better answers will find you along the way!! and that’s only a testament to how well you’re getting to know your own story and also your own characters

i think the hardest thing to do w longer fics is finding motivation to continue w it (instead of just starting it n then you lose interest in writing more lmfaoo i did this w a nanami fic unfortunately) but the thing that helped me w kickoff was having a scene later on that i was really looking forward to writing, one that i had planned out in very early stages so that it gave me something to look forward to! and by the time i ended up finishing that scene, i had written enough at that point to want to keep writing it n i found momentum w the story. so that can definitely help w regards to keeping up motivation while you’re in the early stages of writing a longer length fic

yeah i’d say these two are my biggest tips for writing longer works in general :”) i hope this helps in anyway if you’re also a writer!! thank u for the ask bb <3

[imaginespazzi]

Niviii, bestie, how are you? Hope life’s treating you well, and especially as well as you treated us with part 6!

As always, my thoughts:

Was waiting on when Katie would make an appearance again and you did not disappoint! Someone needed to finally talk some sense cause god knows we were getting nowhere leaving it all to those two dumb gay idiots (affectionate) to figure it out.

But for real, I loved this scene between mother and daughter and hearing others acknowledge that the bond between them was always just different. More. Katie’s like “honey please, it was too obvious”.

As always, I love when real events bleed into the story so absolutely loved draft night getting incorporated here. I could feel the tension as Paige inched closer and closer to Azzi on the carpet like oof the writing was- *chef’s kiss*.

Then them escaping to finally get that moment alone together again and Azzi finally giving in 🥹. Also, their dramatic ass goodbye being only two weeks or so prior to this LOL. Were just absolutely kidding themselves thinking they could really survive staying away from each other.

You already know how I feel about a Drew cameo!! Pleassseee, the whole “you are gonna get married right?” killed me in the best way. He will accept no other outcome, that’s his pookie for life and P will absolutely not mess that up for him again!

The UCLA team finally welcoming P with open arms- we really have come so far.

But omg this whole scene – them finally getting to have the date. What dreams are made of. But P was so done with Azzi here lmao, the NBA quip (tbh, Azzi definitely has a case cause like how is she meant to know that games start late October and not early October?! Like ntm on pookie now 😩). And then the stray that P’s Lebron posters caught – very valid.

For real though, that scene was so healing after everything we’ve all been through with this fic 😌. And P flying all the way to Cali during school – DOWN BAD.

And then just when I thought you’d written my favourite fluff scene, you go ahead and write the dancing in the snow scene.

I don’t even really have much more to add for that specific scene because I wouldn’t be able to do it justice. Just know that dancing in the snow/kissing in the rain scenes have my whole heart and this was no exception.

Then the final scene. I was actually wondering whether you would have Azzi winning the natty because I didn’t know if you could do that to UConn, even if just in a fic, but I appreciate you doing it for the plot (I know it must have killed you a lil writing them losing- and NOT EVEN MAKING IT TO THE NATTY GAME) 😭.

But it was only fitting that we got Paige in Azzi’s jersey this time around (side note: something I badly need to see irl at some point).

And the ending – THE ENDING – look, that may also be how I’ve imagined next season panning out irl (the kiss) but obviously with them both on the court… and since I know there’s almost no chance it would actually happen, I’m glad we got to live it out here.

What’s next?

First of all, I can’t believe we’re coming to the end, like from one offhanded comment about “what if Azzi had chosen UCLA?” being my roman empire to this? Insane.

Not that I had a single doubt but whatever expectations I had coming into this, trust, you more than exceeded every. single. one.

I’ll prolly go on a much longer thank you after the last chapter or epilogue so I’ll save it for then!

But yeah, in terms of what’s next, imma leave it to you, Nivi.

The “or so she hopes” at the end has me a little worried, but remember “everything changes, except the ending” and you did promise us a happy ending 😌.

Favourite lines:

Taking the picture is a task, both of them bickering about angles and lights. It’s unnecessary arguing, in true Paige and Azzi fashion really but there’s something so mundanely domestic about it that Azzi finds herself wanting to memorise this moment too. They finally get the frame just right, somewhere in between what they both wanted. Azzi smiles at the camera, her Paige smile, as the blonde in question presses her lips against her cheeks.

Bonus (also because this is how I want it to play out irl next season when they win the natty lmao): 

“On a scale of one to ten, how bad would kissing you right now be?” Azzi asks, still a little breathless. 

A myriad of emotions flicker through Paige’s face before settling on a mischievous smirk, “probably pretty bad but you should do it anyways.”

Alternate lyric/song (I fucking love arms tho, that song just fits this entire fic so perfectly):

In the darkest night hour, I search through the crowd. Your face is all that I see, I’ll give you (I've given you) everything, baby, love me lights out.

Side note: I was a little high when I first read part 6, and it was an experience (in the best way)!!!

As always, thank you. You already know.

Much love,

-🙋‍♀️

Bestieeeee, I'm good love, thanks for asking and I hope you're good too! Can you believe I finally wrote a chapter without breaking your heart?

If we left it up to Paige and Azzi, this fic would end up running in circles for another 10 chapters but thank god for Katie and common sense. I really love Katie and Azzi's relationship and she felt the perfect person to make Azzi see sense

The draft scene is probably my favorite scene to have written throughout this whole series, an accumulation of everything else and I'm so glad you liked it because I wanted to do the confession justice and I hope I did

LMAO okay so I was fully gonna drag it out a little longer cause 2 weeks is so short but a) I wanted to include the draft and b) let's be honest these idiots definitely are the kind people to only make a dramatic goodbye last barely 2 weeks

I love Drew so much so you know I had to add him in here but yeah that's their no.1 supporter and you best believe he will drag them to the aisle if he needs too

I threw in that UCLA team line for you, I knew you'd appreciate the growth!

Even though I've been teasing my anons with sadness for most of this fic, the date recreation was always gonna happen from the minute I wrote the call lol.

Honestly as much as I love writing angst!Pazzi and fluff!Pazzi, bickering!Pazzi is my favorite and I just had to add that in

I'M SO GLAD YOU LIKED THE SNOW SCENE. It truly adds nothing to the plot but it popped into my head and I was like fuck it, the people deserve their dance in the snow moment lol

You know me too well. It physically hurt to write UConn losing (at least they'd already won in this universe) but for the plot, and because it's Azzi, with a heavy heart, I wrote another team winning it all.

I put all my hopes and dreams for next season into that ending and yeah look it's not happening, but life imitates art right? Why not manifest?

I have to go back and find your ask because man I can't believe we've come this far. WE DID IT BESTIE! We lived your roman empire out just a little bit and there's just a little bit left to go!

Alright, there's maybe just a little bit more turbulence to come but I think you're gonna like the actual ending I have planned (you have to or I will actually cry)

XO!! Fantastic song choice!

LMAO I love that for you babes! And thank you for always, always having such a detailed review for me. They mean the world to me and I appreciate it so much. Til next time my love <3

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

Annoying anon here! Had a few questions so i thought i would send them together, you can answer the ones you want (or none of course)

- how long did it take for Ghost and riot to get together? Relationship wise and merely comfortable in the other's presence

- do you think realistically there would/could possibly be conflict in the sense that one of them is ready to settle down and the other isn't/isn't yet?

- which one is more reckless? Which one is more possible to be in a very VERY bad situation? (Could be impulsive or because of a teammate)

- i know they're both stubborn, but which one is at a most disadvantage because of their pride (very similar to the last question)

Anyways I'm off for a shower and there could be more questions arriving from it (shower thoughts am i right)

Thank you for your work! (I sound like a middle aged man i swear im not)

You're not annoying <3 I love your asks, hun!! Really!!

1 - Well, my fic starts January 2023 (I don't say the exact date but... let's say mid January) and it took them a whole week and a half to start hanging out alone to smoke (of course it was a coincidence lol lol... yeah sure). So comfortable in each other's (silent) presence, soon enough. I think Ghost was thankful for someone less rambuctious as Soap, and Gaz, as lovely as he is, is determined to make him more social so... And Riot was thankful that he didn't pry like the others.

Now, relationship wise, current chapter (the op in Spain) is June or July 2023 and they're just starting having physical touch here and there. I don't think they'd be 'together' in a physical sense until Late August or September. And between first kiss and actual sex it'll take about three weeks or a month, so... They're very slow lmao i'm sorry

2 - Oh, absolutely. I write constantly how they advance a step and sometimes they go back two or three. Ghost's PTSD is better managed in the sense that he's been suffering it longer, and although he is not fine, he is slightly better than her. That doesn't mean he doesn't spiral sometimes. Her spiraling is often more apparent because her PTSD is fresher. Right at the point where they are (I'm writing) he is kinda stable (until the nightmare) and she was slowly trying to get out of her shell. Holding hands, sitting closer, touching each other, now sharing a room. Their own self-doubt and feeling that they are not deserving of anything good is what screws them over.

In the (nearer than you think) future, when there is talk about the officiality of it... surprisingly enough, they get to an agreement soon.

3 - Definitely Riot. She is careful if she's leading or has people under her command. If she's working alone she's less careful about her own wellbeing, the only thing important is getting the mission done. (More or less like Ghost, but Price has forced Ghost to accept that he has people waiting for him). It'd be a conflict soon, in a couple of chapters. Add to that, that she'd never leave anyone behind, and lives with the shame about what happened to Phoenix Squad, and she'll do anything to atone, even if rationally, it wasn't her fault

4 - Definitely Ghost. I follow the comic canon, I just adapted it slightly, so his childhood is canon, Roba, etc. For me, Ghost had an unhealthy childhood with a horrible father who abused his family, abused his mother, his brother, him. He was beaten into thinking any kind of emotional state was unmanly, asking for help was for the weak. So he is extremely proud in the sense that he'd never ask for help, no matter about what.

He only concedes with Price. If he absolutely need someone... he'd go to Price. Price is his rock, his anchor. Price won't judge him. Price is the only one that saw him at his worst, after Roba, saw him in the deepest hole known to man, and stayed. Never turned his back on him. So Ghost's absolutely loyalty is to Price and will listen to him over anyone, including Riot (not that she'd go against Price in any case but you get my meaning)

[piedoesnotequalpi]

10 & 22 <3

🤠🤠🤠🤠

(Weird writer asks!)

10. Has a piece of writing ever "haunted" you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?

To answer the last question first, I think writing haunting me is just that I will regularly (but not constantly) think about it over a very long period of time. So using that definition, some writing that has haunted me is:

Depression Part Two by Allie Brosh/Hyperbole and a Half

American Gods by Neil Gaiman

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

One Hundred Love Sonnets: XVII by Pablo Neruda

shirleyann66 on AO3's Broadchurch fics (god season 3 was so disappointing)

Has my own writing haunted me? Yes, and there are two main instances I can think of. One was a passage I wrote about a breakup, where the pain wasn't from losing a long-term romantic relationship but rather from losing the friendship the two characters had before things went south. I accidentally made it a little too relatable, I guess. The other is an unfinished novel I worked on in 2022 that was inspired by the Iphis and Ianthe myth. It had a bit too much going on, but I think it had a lot of potential, and I really like some of the characters I created for it.

22. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

This is highly dependent on what I'm writing! Multi-chapter things have to be more organized. I usually have a google doc with initial notes, but I often end up using a lot of tables to keep things organized - for the Bachelorette AU, I had a table with all the contestants, their ages, jobs, and hometowns, and when/why they got eliminated; I also had tables with lists of potential group/individual dates and a giant one where each row was a chapter and I had who was on which date, who got roses, who was eliminated, and a plot outline that got more detailed as I got closer to writing the chapter (the column is labeled "important relationship developments" but I quickly realized I'd need to do more planning than that). I also will sometimes do some notebook planning, usually so I can display more information at once - when I needed a more readable representation of roses/dates/eliminations, that went in a notebook. I wish I could go with the flow more on multi-chapter stuff but alas that is not the case.

[kinetic-elaboration]

December 29: Current Writing Statuses

I actually managed to get some more writing done today, and even though it really feels like I've just been chipping away at the Time Loop forever, and will continue chipping away at it forever, still I must acknowledge I'm making progress.

So here's a little overview of where I'm at with my writing and what I'll be working on next. I might make another similar post to this, but more formally, for the new year; this is just a sketch of a thing.

First, the Time Loop. I took a writing break with 10 scenes left to go and I've now brought that down to 4. Four! I've finally finished Chapter 4, which I started I think back in October or even September, and I'm one scene in to Chapter 5. That first scene and the switch in POV went well, I think, and the second to last scene is one I've been looking forward to writing for a WHILE so I'm excited to be getting closer to it. I don't think I'll finish during this break but I hope I can finish the draft in January. I'm looking forward to this a lot!

As far as free writes and ficlets and so on, I'm leaving the winter/holiday prompt lists prominently bookmarked for myself through the end of the year, in case some more holiday/wintery/fluff inspiration strikes, and after the New Year I'll consider that done. I have a July Break Bingo card from last July and I'd like to keep chipping away at that. I also impulsively signed up for another bingo card to maybe get me writing some K/S in the new year. And I have some universes that I like and might keep writing short scenes in, not in a getting-anywhere-way, but just because I like them.

I do have plans for my next big projects as well but I'm afraid to talk about them out loud or even think about them too much because I feel like I'll be cursing myself to be stuck, ironically, in the Time Loop truly for all time. One is an old, old one-shot that I would love to finish up and the other is a comparatively new multi-chapter story (lololol) that I'd like to write the first chapter of. I definitely want to be ready with post-time-loop ideas so I'm not caught floundering when I do finish this never-ending draft, but I also don't want to get too far ahead of myself. I mean, I still have 4 scenes. And soon I'll be going back to work and normal life and not writing at all as frequently. So. We'll see. The truth is that one day I'll just write the last scene and it will probably feel anticlimactic then. I always obsess over these projects and then one day they're just done.