busyheaded

[busyheaded]

5 times elphaba leaves + 1 time she comes back. moments from canon plus bonus fix-it material.

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excerpt:

Elphaba steps forward. “But you knew I was alive?”

Glinda shakes her head. “No.” The statement comes back unspoken. You don’t seem surprised to see me. Her shoulders slump slightly, and the fight deflates with a rattle in her chest. “But I hoped.”

Neither of them say anything for a long time. That is alright with Glinda. She needs a moment to prepare herself for this ambush, needs time to recover the lost footing so that she might finish this conversation without embarrassing herself. She also allows herself time to take in Elphaba’s appearance after so long. The black color palette is still in fashion, apparently, but instead of the long gowns, Elphaba is dressed in dark trousers and a jacket. Her hair seems clean and kept, her skin is bright in all the right ways, and her face still bears that youthful glow under the hardened exterior. So she really has been safe and well.

Glinda’s eyes roam once more over Elphaba’s full form, and when she travels back up to Elphaba’s face it becomes clear that Elphaba is doing the same thing. Glinda remembers that she is wearing nothing more than a poor excuse for a nightdress. For some strange reason this makes her blush. And for some stranger reason she gets the impression that Elphaba is blushing too.

Finally, Elphaba speaks. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my plan.”

The anger is gone now. Glinda’s voice is small and petulant. “Well, good,” she says. “You should be.”

Her tongue twitches to shed more. I’m sorry too. I missed you. I wish I had saved us. I wish I was braver. I will never forgive myself. I love you. I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry. But she refrains.

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[busyheaded]

these days of dust [6/?]

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[busyheaded]

these days of dust [5/?]

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[busyheaded]

these days of dust [4/?]

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[busyheaded]

these days of dust [3/?]

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[busyheaded]

hi pinning this just to make it extra clear i literally don’t use this sideblog for anything but fic updates!

my main (which i also follow from) is @quinnfebrey and that’s where i’m most active/am a real person/answer asks/etc. 😗🤙🏽✨

[busyheaded]

we could blame it all on human nature [5/?]

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[busyheaded]

don't say yes (run away now) [1/4]

summary: Ava is so close that Beatrice could reach out and brush her thumb along her bottom lip, could tuck the fallen lock of hair behind her ear, could count the number of times she blinks and hold her breath when she doesn’t. Not that she would. Obviously. Because she’s not insane.

“I’ll tell you everything,” Ava repeats. “But I just have to make sure. You’re in, right? You’re still in?”

God, if you’re up there, Beatrice prays, I’m sorry I said I don’t believe in you anymore, but please don’t let me regret this.

or, wedding crasher for hire au

excerpt:

“So, do I get to know what the event is?” Beatrice says, raising her eyebrows. “And who is the host?”

“Yes, that’s… that’s certainly important,” Ava says.

More silence.

“You’re not talking,” Beatrice observes.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t notice,” Ava says dryly. 

“Are you nervous?” Beatrice asks. It seems like a stupid question, but there’s really no other explanation, and the whole situation can only be a mystery for so long. Might as well get it over with, right?

“You seem like a good person,” Ava sighs. She throws out a sloppy grin. “True or false.”

“True,” Beatrice says. “As far as I’ve been told, anyway.”

“I’m worried that this is, like, moderately immoral,” Ava admits.

“Immoral,” Beatrice repeats.

“Yes,” Ava confirms.

“But only moderately?”

“Could be worse.”

Another pause.

“You know I’m not a hitman, right?” Beatrice says, raising her eyebrows. “I don’t kill people. Or kidnap them or anything.”

“Oh, God,” Ava says, shaking her head vigorously. “No, of course not. It’s not illegal, alright? It’s just, on a scale of, like, from the Dalai Lama to Jeff Bezos, this is maybe sort of right in the middle.”

As if that’s not the weirdest scale of measurement. Beatrice frowns, trying to conceptualize it. Ava is implying that one end of the spectrum is a saint, the other end is a morally corrupt but technically not actually criminal billionaire. And this job is… in the middle of that?

Beatrice shakes her head. “Ava. I think you just have to tell me.”

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[busyheaded]

me, the motherfucker with over 50 abandoned works in progress: i have an idea

[busyheaded]

we could blame it all on human nature [1/?]

summary: Blinking, Eloise takes a deep breath, running over the facts in her mind. The article is referring to Cressida Cowper, aka the girl she hooked up with at a party once and then never had a civil conversation with again in all of their four years at university. And, according to the news article, Cressida will not be playing for the Dash, two thousand miles away, she will be playing for the Thorns. With Eloise. They’re going to be teammates. What the fuck?

or, football au with a healthy dose of enemies to lovers, fake dating, and a side of fwb

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[busyheaded]

Cressida Cowper's Guide to Graceful Debauchery (1/1)

Summary: Perhaps an overlooked point of contention within their (fairly) new courtship: Cressida Cowper is too diligent a student regarding the finer points of feminine etiquette and flirting while Eloise Bridgerton is wholly uninterested (and uneducated) in feminine etiquette.

Or: Eloise is woefully oblivious and Cressida is perpetually (sexually) frustrated.

Word Count: 10,500

Rated M

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[busyheaded]

heartbreaking. you have to write the fic youre writing in order for it to be written

[busyheaded]

i'm afraid to feel it (but i just gotta tell you now) [1/1]

“You know,” Sasha says, wondering if she’ll regret it later, “I’m glad I didn’t know I was gay when we were in school together.” She watches Heather take a long drink of her shitty old fashioned, feels her stomach burn warm as Heather deftly fishes the cherry out of the glass and sucks it off of her fingers. “I think you would’ve broken my heart.”

Heather pauses. For a moment she looks almost sober, eyes hazily trying to focus. “Oh, Silver,” she sighs. “All this time and you still haven’t realized that you were always the heartbreaker.”

or, Heather and Sasha find each other

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[busyheaded]

we still have time [13/13]

summary: John dies on a quiet Tuesday, unmarried and childless. Michaela can't fathom allowing everything she knows and loves to pass to a distant heir, so in one last effort to keep hold of her life, as well as the estate, Michaela decides to take a detour through John's wardrobe before heading into Mayfair as the Earl himself, hoping that one eligible, but not so marriage-minded lady takes an interest in her unusual offer.

or, Francesca falls in love with Michaela, she just doesn't realize it yet.

excerpt:

“I am the first to understand how wonderful my sister is,” Eloise says, as if she is worried that Michaela might punch her for what she is about to say next, “but it has been months. And you are genuinely this disquieted over her? Still?”

Michaela’s shoulders rise and drop inside her thick winter coat. “I am.”

“If only the whole world could see you now: Michaela Stirling, notorious rake, humbled to devastation by a mere woman,” Eloise says, letting out a whistle. 

Michaela just sighs. “Wars have been waged over less, Miss Eloise. Kingdoms risen and fallen, empires and hoards of armies cutting each other down over women made of starlight.”

Eloise stares at her. Then, giving a whole body shake, “Christ, Michaela. You are a romantic. That is disgusting. No wonder my sister fell in love with you.”

But Michaela cannot even smile. Instead, her mouth flips into an awkward, uncommitted frown. “And yet it is you that is here.” She side-eyes Eloise. “No offense.”

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[busyheaded]

we still have time [12/13]

summary: John dies on a quiet Tuesday, unmarried and childless. Michaela can't fathom allowing everything she knows and loves to pass to a distant heir, so in one last effort to keep hold of her life, as well as the estate, Michaela decides to take a detour through John's wardrobe before heading into Mayfair as the Earl himself, hoping that one eligible, but not so marriage-minded lady takes an interest in her unusual offer.

or, Francesca falls in love with Michaela, she just doesn't realize it yet.

excerpt:

Francesca stirs at her tea. “Does Michaela know that you and I write to each other?”

“No, she is under the impression I am her captive and have effectively cut off my entire family since marrying her,” Eloise says sarcastically. “Yes, she knows we correspond. She even tells me what to put in the letters sometimes.”

“Really?” Francesca says, perking up despite her better judgment. “Like what?”

“I thought you were not keen to know anything more,” Eloise says with a grin that incites in Francesca a desire to smack her dear sister. 

“If you do not answer the question I shall set fire to all of your Christmas presents,” Francesca promises.

“You are no fun anymore,” Eloise mutters. She sits back in her chair, downing the rest of her tea like it is a glass of whiskey. “Fine, fine. For example… Well, that letter I wrote about the new baby horse that was born on the estate. Michaela said you should like to hear about him.”

“A baby horse is called a foal,” Francesca informs her. 

“It is a horse of the baby variety, must we complicate it more than that?” Eloise sighs. 

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[busyheaded]

I honestly and truly believe all good AUs should be a little “”””ooc”””” in the sense that good characterisation involves understanding that changes a characters backstory and circumstances will have an effect on how they respond to the world around them

Good characterisation isn’t about creating a perfect 1:1 canon replica it’s about understanding why a character is different in your work and about grounding the changes you do deliberately choose to make in canon character traits

[busyheaded]

PUT MICHAELA STIRLING IN YOUR FICS