#I forget where the other one is but I'm sure its in her tag somewhere

[zinzabee]

Another screenshot edit with Sharron!

[skazoo]

hit me with your killshot.

↳ jeong yunho x f!reader

you trusted each other but now your words mean nothing and your actions speak the truth.

length. 1.6k

genre. angst until it's not..., fluff, secret au bc i can't spoil

warnings/tags. war language, weapons, non-explicit violence, betrayal, mention of death.

networks. @kflixnet k-labels

notes. oh, how i love writing this au it brings me sm joy you don't understand. hope you like it!

i'm desperate for feedback and i love comments with your opinion!

(cross-posted on ao3 only)

navigation

all is fair in love and war.

your mother used to say it all the time when you and wooyoung were kids and fought constantly over the most stupid things. she always said it with an amused smile on her lips, like she knew something you were not yet privy to, and when you were younger the notion of being kept in the dark by the person you trusted the most angered you. scared you.

you couldn’t understand what those words really meant. what did love and war —irreconcilable antitheses, mortal enemies— have to do with each other? and why did it seem like everyone around you, your older brother included, had accepted the sad juxtaposition as truth? 

years passed, you and wooyoung got used to one another, fought less, and the enigmatic phrase seldom left your mother’s mouth to the point that it started to fade away under the new memories of your teenage years.

just when it was about to get buried by your twenties, something happened that you hadn’t thought possible. something you’d skeptically deemed ‘not for you’. he happened. yunho happened.

and your mother’s words finally made sense.

all is fair in love and war because the rules of normal civility do not apply during war-making, and when one is desperately in love; because love and war have universally accepted limits but if one were to break those unwritten rules someone would still find a way to justify, to forgive and forget.

but something in the old proverb felt incomplete.

love and war are not the only gods that rule over the earth and you wonder how did the people that came before you not realize the looming force of the third: business. 

what is fair in business? 

what about your business? where it costs little to play dirty and it pays off handsomely? in which love is a mere distraction and war is a means to an end?

and now you’re the lonely bearer of the weight of this third secret factor. now that you’re at war and you’re running from love, you think back about the times you didn’t understand and wish to be brought back there. clueless but free.

it feels stupid to think about all this while you’re tiptoeing around the upper floor of the dark arena —battlefield of the ruthless game you all play— but it’s really all you can do, high off adrenaline and anticipation, waiting for someone to distract the unfortunate victim you have chosen for this round just so you can fix the red laser beam on its unsuspecting back and shoot your shot, granting your team one more chance at victory, at survival.

you crouch down, rifle in front of you and you scan the ground sector through your scope.

from up here you can see what goes on in the maze below. every movement, every noise has you drawing a mental map of the players. 

you can see jongho’s head slowly but surely cornering a terrified choi san to the east wall of the arena, meaning that sooner than later you’ll have an advantage in numbers over the rival team. from the sound of his shotgun reloading almost faster than it shoots, seonghwa must be stalking down kim hongjoong —sworn enemy and skilled sniper— somewhere around the entrance gates. that leaves wooyoung staring at you from the ground, weapon in hand and eyebrows raised in a telling frown. one that shows you he’s ready to play his part in your minutely crafted plan. 

the high wall of the maze is the only thing separating him and your target of choice. kang yeosang leans idly against the hard barrier that cages all of you in like he doesn’t know he’s being hunted for survival, as if he doesn’t realize your brother has been waiting for months to see him fail at your team’s hands.

he starts humming something under his breath too and it’s then that you realize that something– someone extremely dangerous is missing from your mind-map.

when jongho hit one of his teammates in the stomach, your personal and complicated enemy fled the north section before you could follow his movements and with the quick plan of taking out yeosang in full motion you forgot to look for him.

your head snaps to either side of the narrow platform you’re standing on. the thought of his dark eyes watching you this whole time sends chills down your back and makes a heavy weight drop to your stomach.

how did you end up like this? 

before the arena, before you started to play this sick game for a chance at a happier life, everything was just as perfect as it could have been.

jeong yunho. same age and lifelong friend of your annoying brother. tall, built, and handsome, one of the most beautiful smiles you’ve ever seen and a laugh you still can’t get out of your head. 

your mother was so happy when wooyoung grumpily let the fact that you were stealing his friend away from his group activities slip during a visit home from the city.

and oh, were you happy. 

navigating the hardest periods of your young life, in a hostile environment with the sweetest words whispered into your ear every night before you went to sleep.

then the ragtag group of friends you found yourself spending most of your time with, made the cursed discovery. every and each one of you got sucked in before you could realize what it meant.

it stood at the core of the city, a dark monster of metal and neon, big enough just for the bloodshed it hosted. the arena with no physical public, just big screens that displayed what went on in hell.

it started as curiosity and now you face this nightmare every week, hoping to win the glory that you all adamantly desire for different reasons. wooyoung to finally end yeosang’s incredible luck. seonghwa to destroy hongjoon’s ego. jongho for fun. and you to escape the game of cat and mouse you play with the one you trusted with your life.

you shake from your trance and try to listen for any sign that the tall soldier is near. 

amongst the noise of the ground floor, you fail to capture the clang of his boots on the metal grate but yunho doesn’t care to hide from you anymore.

from the crouched position you still have, he looms over you with sad coldness, staring you down like he’s trying to understand where you come from.

then he speaks. voice low, gelid. you can feel the anger through it. “did you take mingi out?”

“yunho–”

“he tried to warn me about you, you know. did you?”

you shake your head slightly. your teammate won’t care if you tell on him. your bloodthirsty sniper wants people to know what he’s capable of. “jongho…”

“it was your plan though.”

it’s the truth but it still hurts. “yunho, listen–”

“it’s always your plans that put me in the worst positions.” he aims his gun at your chest, his hands trembling slightly from the strong grip he has on the weapon; knuckles white.

your voice breaks when you speak. “yunho, please i know you don’t want to do this. please.”

“are you really begging right now?” he scoffs. “mingi was your friend, Y/N! you were going to shoot yeosang in the back!” he nods the gun to the ground floor where wooyoung is still waiting for your move. “i’m done with letting you win, i’m sorry. i can’t watch you do this anymore.”

your rifle is your only source of comfort right now and you grip it with all your might. even now you can’t seem to point it at the man that stands before you. even now you can’t bear that you’re on different sides of the same battle.

“you have to understand…” it sounds like he’s trying to justify himself more than anything.

“understand what, yunho?” you spat. “you’re standing over me telling me to understand but i really can’t because you’re doing the same thing! you’re going to kill me and call it justice!”

he flinches.

“look at me in the eyes and tell me you never loved me. tell me that i meant nothing to you, that it was all a lie and then maybe i will understand you.”

“Y/N–”

“i love you.” your eyes cloud with heartbreak and a single tear makes its way down your cheek. 

everything is over. betrayed by your own lover. killed by love and war.

his finger moves to the trigger. time slows down. you close your eyes.

“i will always love you.” a whisper.

instead of the bang of the gun a loud siren that resonates throughout the entire arena.

“TIME’S OUT!” yeosang cheers followed by wooyoung’s groans.

mingi and san pop their heads from the exit door with small smiles on their lips. “it’s a draw but we all did great guys!”

the others find their way towards the exit, technical gear coming off while the lights of the arena switch back on.

“just– for next time maybe we should finally change teams so that those two up there don’t go full mr. and mrs. smith on us!” mingi’s loud voice reaches everyone.

“yes, please. it’s just laser tag you guys, no need to be that dramatic over it.” wooyoung’s clearly addressing you and everyone agrees with him with quiet grunts.

your boyfriend who still looms over you throws you an amused grin and offers you his hand to get up. when you’re back on your feet he dusts off your shirt and dries the cinematic tear off your cheek. big hands put your mussed hair behind your ears and cup your face.

“they think we’re too much.”

“they just can’t handle us, yuyu. let them cry.”

he chuckles loudly as you place a sweet kiss on his cheek.

“by the way, next week i’m finally taking you out.” you taunt.

“like, on a date or with a sniper?”

[mundanemoongirl]

WIP Questionnaire

Thanks for tagging me @owlsandwich! This is such a cool tag. I'm tagging @poethill @spideronthesun @cssnder and I'll leave an open tag but no pressure as always!

I'll do this for both of my wips as well.

Spiritwalker

What was the first part of your wip that you created?

I actually created a lot before I started writing because I never thought I'd accomplish writing a book. It's murky since I didn't document anything for around a year, but I'm pretty sure I created the clans first.

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

I made a post about this not too long ago. It'd definitely be Daughter by Beyonce

3. Who are your favorite characters you've made? Why?

I have two different answers. My favorite in terms of craft is Daron. I think she's a really unique character and I'm impressed that I'm managing to pull off her personality. My favorite in terms of likability is Aria. She's sassy and really fun.

4. What other pieces of media do you think would share a fan base for your story?

I hate to say this but My Little Pony.

5. What has been your biggest struggle with your wip?

Making it make sense. I have a lot of different concepts and sometimes I forget them or struggle trying not to overstuff my work.

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

Yes! Aria has a wolf. It follows her everywhere and terrorizes people at her command. Daron also forms a bond with a horse.

7. How do your characters get around? (ex: trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)

Horse

8. What part of your wip are you working on rn?

I'm editing chapter 20.

9. What aspects (tropes, maybe?) of your wip do you think will draw people in?

Maybe magic schools and found family.

10. What are your hopes for your wip?

I hope it'll get people talking. I'd love to see discourse about theories or little details I included the way I see for books like ACOTAR.

We Faceless Folk

What was the first part of your wip that you created?

I started from the beginning of the first chapter.

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

Where I Sleep by Emeli Sande.

3. Who are your favorite characters you've made? Why?

Yejin is my favorite. It's so fun to write and read her passive aggressiveness, even if she is insane.

4. What other pieces of media do you think would share a fan base for your story?

Probably The Hate U Give.

5. What has been your biggest struggle with your wip?

Honestly, just writing it. I work so much on my other wip that I haven't had time to write much for this one.

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

Sadly, there are no animals.

7. How do your characters get around? (ex: trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)

My main character drives.

8. What part of your wip are you working on rn?

I don't even know. After I started at the beginning, I started writing random scenes from all over the story. I don't have chapters yet or any other sort of structure. I'm somewhere within the first draft, if you can call it that at this point.

9. What aspects (tropes, maybe?) of your wip do you think will draw people in?

The useless police.

10. What are your hopes for your wip?

I hope it'll create a change. I bring up several different types of racism and show their impacts. I hope reading about it will make people acknowledge its existence and try to change the system.

[sleepysheepyeclipse]

Jealousy Jealousy

A sheep x Nariender fanfic (1/2)

Summary: Narinder is finding himself in a position after being well settled in the cult where he knows of a new friend’s affection for their leader, and takes the sideline for them. 

TW: Feelings of inadequacy, mentions of & allusions to cannibalism, and unrequited feelings, Love…Triangle? Tangle? Something. Spoilers for the game.

Other content tags: Fake relationship

Narinder stood in the garden, plucking beets from the earth and placing them in the chest. The lamb had recently installed some sort of totem to make the plants grow faster, which was both a good and a bad thing for him. Good because it provided work for him to do. Bad because it meant he had little freetime anymore during daylight hours.

“These will probably be the last thing I do before I take a break for a short while.” 

He says to himself. Since he was up during the nights anyways; He’s come to find out that he enjoys being productive, over having idle hands. 

Idle hands lead to idle thoughts, which right now were not exactly all that kind to Narinder. 

He’s long settled into the cult’s life, watching those who did not wear a skull necklace when he was first indoctrinated pass on, be sacrificed, or went abruptly missing one night. Years go on as time for him remains standing faithfully still.

He didn’t really care for the last two sacrifices, only because it made weird looking food appear in the morning. It tasted really good, but whenever he asks about what its made of, the sheep never really answers the question. Now that he has had the thought, he wonders where Jack and Edmund went.

Oh well. That was neither here nor there.

He hears the small dinging of the bell and sees everyone in the distance getting up, or laying down their axes/pickaxes. Some make their way over to the food to eat before heading to bed, others are making a beeline for their huts. 

“Hey Narinder!” 

Came a high-pitched voice after he wandered closer to the worshiping statue. He looks down to see the yellow snail with the white shell on her back. 

“Evening Gloria,” 

He answers her. 

She too wore the necklace he did, and by the stars she was extremely perky despite neither one of them really sleeping. Always carrying an upbeat attitude and in her own ways, always inspiring others. In his humble opinion, she is the best missionary the lamb has. Any follower she has brought back has been extremely loyal to the cult and its teachings. Not only that, she makes a friend out of them extremely quickly.   

The reason he talks to Gloria has more to do with the fact that they’ve bonded over being the only ones up aside from the Lamb. However, even then, the lamb is out on crusades and bringing things back to the cult, or they’re somewhere else in the world. 

“How’re you?”

“I’m alright, sore from all the farm work.”

“Understandable, my knees start aching after praying for so long. I just can’t help it, I want to put everything into my prayers!” 

“Of course, devotion to the lamb is a wonderful thing.”

“Well... I would love to be devoted to them in a way more than just a normal follower.”

She must have picked up on the “confusion” on his face because she was quick to explain. This wasn’t actually the first time he’d heard her say this same train of thought, but due to the head trauma she had endured on her way into/including her stay inside of The Silk Cradle, Gloria’s memory was not entirely the best. 

“I mean-- I’m--I...”

She sighs, 

“I’ve been trying to hide the feelings I’ve developed for our leader, and before you ask--!”

She puts her hands up defensively, 

“I have made sure that it’s not just the idea of them I’m in love with, and that it physically them I'm in love with. I know my memory isn't as good as it was, so I wrote it down to make I didn't forget what my goal was!” 

“I’m glad.”

Even though the ex-god was not, in fact, glad at all about hearing this. 

“Do you think if I asked the lamb to marry me, they would? I mean...They don’t have any significant others right now. Not after Theodosia’s ascension.”

Which Gloria would know if they did or didn’t given that she’s one of the older cult members. The more experienced ones. 

“I’m not sure,”

He replied honestly, then thoughtfully added:

“I mean, marriage is an awfully far jump from a crush, what if you realize that it’s gone one day?”

Gloria looked surprised for a moment or two, then bit her lip with a nod. 

“I suppose I’ll need to start spending more time with our Leader. Now that you’ve said that, I realize I don’t want that to happen. Thank you, Narinder! What a wonderful friend you are, always thinking of the things I forget or overlook.”

She got up quickly, hugged him briefly, and started over to where the Lamb was cooking not horribly far from them. He waved and watched. He bit his lip. Hating every second all of a sudden. 

How she made them light up. How she interacted with them. How she placed her hand on their arm or shoulder. How she flirted with them once they handed her a bowl of whatever they were making. From the looks of it, it did not look like the hearty meat meal the lamb’s been fond of making. If he had to guess, it’s probably more of whatever meat comes as a result from a sacrifice.

Which surprisingly doesn't bother him as badly as he thought the idea would. Now if he had to eat a bowl of that one particular batch of it again, then he would most likely puke.

He felt sick, so he forced himself to turn away and walk briskly to his hut. He almost sprinted away and had to physically make sure the door did not slam behind him. He didn't want to give away he’d been watching the two of them interact.

He flings himself onto his bed and buried his face into the covers. Stupid Gloria, stupid lamb, stupid feelings, stupid, stupid and stupid.

-

How Narinder got drafted into this elaborate plan, he has no idea. Yet here he is, sowing string through the bottoms of Camilla flowers to make a crown for Gloria. Gloria was currently making the one she would give to the lamb.

“Thank you so much for doing this,”

She had said, but Narinder didn’t audibly respond back. Too busy wanting this to be over already. There was light conversation between them, but nothing of any substantiality. He leans over after stringing what he hopes is the last one to place it on her head. Holding it closed as so it sits in its intended circular shape.

“Does it feel alright?”

“It’s a little snug, but that’s alright. Means it’ll stay, right?”

“Right.”

He offers her a smile and then leans back away starting to tie off the string.

“Does this look like it’ll fit?”

Gloria holds up her stringed flowers, trying her best to mimic the gesture he had had seconds ago.

“It looks a little small.”

“Does it?”

“Yeah. Looks more like it would just rest on their head, rather than go down where it would be secure.”

Gloria nodded, but let out a very strong oh no upon realizing that the basket next to her was empty; thus meaning, that she had no more flowers to expand the crown any further than what she already had.

“I’m sure it will be alright,”

He tried assuring, but the snail seemed inconsolable at the moment. So, as a result, Narinder came up with an idea.

“Why don’t you ask for them to go get some from Darkwood whilst out on one of their crusades?”

“But how would I—”

“You don’t have to confess then and there, just simply say you need oh…ten camellia flowers to make a bouquet for the one you wish to confess to?”

“Oh that’s good.”

“I thought so.”

“I’ll go do that now!”

She moved much faster than the former god expected, quickly making her way over to where the lamb was finishing taking a confession. He saw Beelzebub coming out with a refreshed look on their face, and figured whatever weight they had on their shoulders must have been significantly lifted.

She seems to make her request, then her face falls for a moment or two as the Lamb seems to ask her for something after a longer than anticipated paused. Narinder sees her bite her lip, but ultimately agree to whatever it is. The lamb gives her a hug, (which he managed to stop himself from growling at), before rushing off to deal with something inside the temple.

The snail angrily sulks as she walks back over to him and he looks at her confused until she’s close enough to hear him if he said anything.

“What happened?”

“They just asked me to go on a mission in exchange for getting the flowers.”

“And?”

“I said I would of course; they said they wanted me to go see if I could find someone to convert since we’ve had some recent deaths, and our numbers were dwindling and so is some faith. They figure if we have some more intensely faithful members then all will be well once more.”

“I see. Their reasoning isn’t unreasonable. You are one of the best missionaries they have within our cult.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry I don’t have more words to offer you to make you feel better.”

“It’s alright Narinder, it’s the idea that’s counting.”

There’s a brief lull in the conversation before he offers something he debated saying. Her eyes drifting to her crossed arms, then her feet.

“Hey, Gloria, look on the bright side. At least you’ll have something to look forward to when you get back. Something to keep you going when it gets tough out there.”

She looks up from the ground and one can see the lightbulb clicking into place. Her eyes widening as her lips curl into a smile.

“You’re right!”

She exclaimed, seeming like she has hit enlightenment with the thought.

“—And the sooner I get started, the sooner I get back! Oh, Narinder!”

She drops to her knees and hugs him around the neck. He fights with himself to hug her back, but ultimately does.

“You truly do come up with the best ideas and comfort. I shall see you in two days time!”

She smiles at him as she pulls away, then quickly hurries over the missionary hut and disappears inside of it. Far more eager to get started on her mission than she was when she was given it.

Narinder knows that she, despite her reservations, is truly one of the best missionaries that the lamb has as he has said more than once to others and himself.

He hears the bell from the temple and picks up their project off of the ground, placing it into his basket to drop off at his hut before he heads to the temple. Unknowing within the next few days that his world was going to turn and start spinning differently over the course of 48 hours.

————

Narinder hummed quietly as he plucked berries from a newly ripened bush in the garden the next morning after Gloria set off, letting his mind wander idly to random things.

“Narinder?”

“Hm?”

His head lifts as he sees the Lamb standing nearby, jumping a little. Had he been hurried that deeply in thought as to not notice them?

“Oh. Hello Lamb,”

“Morning Narinder, how’re you?”

“I’m alright.”

His eyes turn back to the bush in front of him, but his third one remains open and trained on the Lamb that way he can multitask; continue working, and carry on a conversation.

“And yourself, dear lamb?”

“I’m alright, although…”

“Although what?

“I can’t seem to get me mind off a few matters.”

There’s a brief pause in the conversation that allows Narinder to get up and place his basket in the chest behind him and go to check the trap the scarecrow holds for birds. He resets them, and takes the two caught for the day to the chest.

“Care to share with the cult?”

He invited. The chuckle at the words, but answer his request with letting him in on their thoughts.

“Well for one, I’m worried about Nanajul. They’ve been desperately trying to get me to play along with some cruel prank that they want to play on poor Cassidy. Their faith in me is dwindling as a result and I’m worried I’m going to have a dissenter amongst us soon.”

Valid reason to be concerned. He makes note to talk to their idiotic mutual acquaintance later.

“I see. I can talk to him if you wish, I’m sure he’ll understand if he’s being told it’s a poor idea from someone else rather than his leader.”

“I would appreciate that.”

The lamb’s body language relaxed a little, and like water coming out of a spigot as you slowly turned it on, the other troubles travelled out.

“Secondly, I can’t seem to keep someone consecrating resources. It seems like every time I’m turning around I’m having to tell someone new to go and then having to tell them what to do even though there’s a list of resources in order to do each day.”

Again super valid. He remembers Leshy having some sort of similar problem with their prophets when they were younger. He remembers roughly how Shamura answered in response and tries his best to imitate his older sibling’s response despite not liking having to do so. Things might have gone sour between them, but that didn’t make their words any less right.

“That’s rather annoying, but at least from my perspective that’s probably nothing to worry about. I think as long as it gets done, then what is taking a few minutes to provide guidance going to hurt? You haven’t forgotten how many times you have— had. You had needed my help prior to our current circumstances, have you?”

The lamb looks sheepishly— no pun intended on Narinder’s part— before nodding a little bit. He shook his head, but didn’t harp on it more. He knew they were a quick learner and with pointing out the flaw in their thinking, he figures they’ll try and have a little more open mind to the change of members trying to complete the task.

“And third, I don’t want to go to Darkwood.”

“What is in Darkwood?”

“Those Camellia flowers for Gloria.”

“What is wrong with her request, dear lamb?”

“If I tell you, how poorly would you look at me?”

“Lamb, have you forgotten who I used to be?“

“Touché.”

“You know how you had given me the abilities to read the minds of my members?”

“Yes.”

“I decided to check in on her mentally since it had been a long while since I have last done so and I…”

The lamb trails off.

“You…?”

They don’t answer immediately, so Narinder wanders over to them and stands across from him. Taking the hint they wished not to speak loudly.

“I know the real reason why she wants the flowers, and I feel horrible because I’m not interested in her like that.”

Narinder feels his blood turn cold at that admission. All three eyes widened at the Lamb.

“Which is part of the reason why I sent her off, so I could have time to think of how to let her down gently.”

.

“Please don’t look at me like that.”

Narinder shakes his head and closes his third eye.

“Apologies. It’s just…That… is a…heavy confession, lamb.”

“I know. I know, but I don’t know what to do about it.”

An idea, though devious, crossed Narinder’s mind as he lets the worry hang in the air for a moment or two before speaking up. It was selfish of him to suggest, and he knows it. The guilt tells him so, but nonetheless he wants the lamb bad enough he’ll deal with the fallout from Gloria when it happens.

“You could always fake being in a relationship. Say someone confessed to you or you confessed to someone while she was gone.”

They consider it for a moment or two before frowning.

“But it wouldn’t hold up for long.”

“Why so?”

“Because I’m sure she would expect me to be around said member, and when day in and day out nothing happens…”

It’s implied she’d put two and two together that she would figure out they lied quick, fast, and in a hurry.

“I will help you.”

Narinder said without thinking, and almost wished he could take the words back and shove them into his face. They were words back when they were a god that were so natural between he and the Lamb. Words that he would offer a million times over if they needed his guidance. It was a habit he hadn’t realized he still had given the distance that had been between them for so long.

“Are you sure? You—We— I…”

They stammered, at a loss for words evidently from either the absurdity or the abruptness of the idea.

“Look, I know we have our… differences, given what happened.”

Narinder didn’t need to imply their entire fight given the betrayal the lamb had caused because they wanted to keep the crown they wore; moreover, the utter anger and resentment that hung between them for so… so long after he was spared. Which each party had their reasons to be legitimately upset.

“But in the end, are you really that against me wanting to help you— albeit in a different way than I had once, lamb? Do you truly think still so low of me?”

They don’t answer, and he opens his mouth to tell them to consider it at least, but they beat him to the metaphorical punch bowl.

“No. I know that when you said you’ll help me you mean it. I know that fact too— too well. I want to move past this animosity we have still between our friendship.”

They nod to themselves.

“So, lovers?”

The lamb outstretched their hand to him, and he feels his heart excitedly skip a beat despite his brain knowing this wasn’t a real offer.

“Lovers it is, my lamb.”

[zaftikat]

20 Questions

This is the most 2010s tumblr thing I can recall doing on this site, and I have participated in the supernatural fandom. (Tagged by @toopunkrockforshul )

ALL OF THIS UNDER A CUT

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Five, but like you know, I'm workin on it.

2. How many words?

16,320. 11.4k comes from one fic tho

Nine Worlds Series by Victoria Goddard (specifically: Greenwing & Dart and Lays of the Hearthfire)

Star Wars by way of @dangersquaremedia's Chicks with Dice

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

well, i've only got the 5 so...

1. It's just Intermundial Tax Law, how hard could it be?

2. On Escaping from Orio Prison

3. The Tanà's Daughter, or How Pinyë Got Her Groove Back (Hiatus)

4. If the Lady Wills it, Ever Onward (Ongoing)

5. The Poola Blossom

No because I'm afraid it might come across as weird? I don't read a lot of fic, so I'm not sure what the etiquette is?

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Implying I finish my fics instead of losing steam and forgetting them.

That said, when its finished, How Pinye Got Her Groove Back is going to be pretty fuckin angsty

Again, implying that I finish my fics.

The one I've gotten the most "this made me so sad" comments on is actually my happiest in my opinion. I wrote Intermundial Tax Law right as I was gearing up to move countries, and the story ends with the main character feeling confident and determined in his choice to leave home. That's the happiest ending I could have imagined at the time, because emigrating somewhere new is not a simple prospect, emotionally.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I write for very small fandoms full of predominantly very nice and supportive people. I would not change that.

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I, a transfem on progesterone, have written smut, yes. The armpit licking kind. What other kinds are there?

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I love a good AU, but I'm not super into crossovers. Just not my bag.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

If I have, I apologize to the thief for the sort of mauve hue to my prose.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

no, but damn if I wouldn't love to have a yiddish fic

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

I have ideas for a cowritten fic with @toopunkrockforshul ! its a wrestling AU

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

oh, maybe HMS Agamemnon. She was a 64 gun third rate who participated in the battle of Egypt and then shortly thereafter the Nore Mutiny. Laid up in 1802 in poor condition, and then brought out of ordinary in 1804 because napoleon was going to invade and they needed all the ships they could get. She took and demasted the Spanish 112 gun Santisima Trinidad at Trafalgar which is pretty cool.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

How Pinye Got Her Groove Back probably won't ever get finished because I've lost the mindset. Its a fic about dysphoria and coming out and as I get farther away from the direct experience its harder to set in my mind.

16. What are your writing strengths?

idk. it feels odd to talk about my strengths when I'm so very green at this. I think I'm pretty alright at knowing when to kill a darling.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I tend to get lost in the middle between where I know I'm going and where I currently am. It slows me down a lot.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Like, maybe I could do Jack Aubrey quality french.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Greenwing & Dart

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

If the Lady Wills it, Ever Onward its just the most complex and well written thing I think i've ever done, and I can't wait for something else to replace it as my favourite.

I don't know enough people who write fic to tag them, so have fun if you want

[kyofsonder]

Find the Word Tag

I was tagged by @aohendo to try and find the words she chose in my own WIPs and pass the tag along to other writers. Thank you for the tag, and the challenge! It’s always interesting to see how much context can change a word – or reinforce its original meaning.

My words are: scar, hope, night, silver, and cradle. 

The excerpts from where I found them, the list of writers I'm tagging, and the tagged writers' list of new words under the cut.

It felt like cheating to find scar in the fic that literally has that word in its title, but interestingly I also found it in a Given fic called “Present Tense”:

"I'll love all of it! I'll live all of it! Singing! Guitar! Ritsuka! You! I'll love it all, and give you my memories, and you'll never be able to forget even if you want to! I'll make more songs! I'll look at you! I'll look at myself! I --" he can't bring himself to say the last word. It's lodged somewhere inside him, maybe in one of the scars where his other feelings have been brutally pulled from him. Maybe somewhere deeper, where they can't even be touched. He can't do this. He can't commit like that. "Promise" is too big of a word. It won't come out.

I did find hope in my Danny Phantom fic “Lingering Scars”:

Whether she can see it or not, he tries to communicate all the pride he has in her as her mentor and all the affection he has for her as his family. Show her that whatever Vlad might have planned for her, she isn't under his control anymore. She's with Danny, and Jazz and Sam and Tucker. Her injuries will only come back from those nightmares, never from anything that her family does. Never again. He doesn't know how to say that without the words coming out bitter -- still angry at what that fruit loop did to this innocent kid -- but he hopes that something on his face or in his aura or whatever else is enough to tell her that she's safe. She's okay now. He's not sure if his subliminal support is what does the trick, but Dani seems to revive a little.

I found night in my novel WIP “To Be Honest”:

Micah's lucky that there's enough light to help him see. The night seems to want to swallow it all, but some moonlight still pours down through the trees. Every sound rattles through their needles, amplified until he can't tell where the shifting of wild animals end and the crunch of his own footsteps begin, but even in this dim chaos there is enough light to walk forward. He can see silhouettes of other living things in the woods with this light, and tries to swallow his own fear to keep himself moving. None of these are the silhouettes he's looking for, so he has to press on. That's the only option.

I found silver in “Present Tense” again:

The person turns toward him, and it feels like looking at something he's lost. Again. It hurts, clawing at the words inside him as if to forcibly drag them from his body. He doesn't speak, but it feels like his throat will start to bleed if he keeps quiet much longer. Their eyes shine, too, and that especially digs into the sore and vulnerable places in his chest. They flash that silver he's seen beneath his fingers. The color of the strings he's learned to change by himself.

I found cradle in “Lingering Scars” again:

The whole world has a dim filter around the edges, a vignette focused solely on that face. Danny doesn't linger, but that filter does. It shrinks things down until he can only see the steps in front of him. He cradles his arm as he flies to Sam's house, where he and Sam and Tucker had agreed to meet if any of them got hurt. He knows there's a reason why, but he can't remember past the pain in his arm and his dimmed vision. He just collapses on Sam's bed and mumbles an apology about getting "blood" on her blankets.

To keep the game going, I’ll tag @midnight-and-his-melodiverse, @marinesocks, @on-noon, @calicojackofficial, @wildjuniperjones, @365runesofwriting, and any other writers who want to join in can use my words and say I tagged them!

For those I tagged, your words are: reach, patience, shaky, hollow, and ripple.

[i-am-a-stupid-robot]

Manuscript Search Tag

Thanks for the tag, sweet @melliabee!

Alas, mine are less varied than yours, dear, all from my in-progress Stargate fic, O'Neill², because I have long since lost track of the projects I had going before this one. I'm gonna need an archaeological team to dig them out when this is all over.😅

The words: oops, clever, elbow, forget, and respect.

oops

Janet's heart swells with pride at the scene, at her daughter stepping up to help—clearly without being asked, she muses as the smell of sweet and sour chicken begins to escape from one of the takeout bags. Cassie has the pizzas settled on the stovetop to cool when she turns and seems to process for the first time what the bags on the counter means. Her eyes widen a hair.

"Oh. Oops."

clever

SG-1 is scheduled to visit PX-somewhere-or-other in a week, and Jack is itching to get back through the gate. Once he's back into the usual grueling swing of things, maybe he'll be too tired for second-hand nightmares and accidental wrenches thrown into carefully laid plans by too-clever surrogate children to make a difference in his sleep schedule.

elbow

What feels like a few minutes later, Jack opens his eyes to see the light has changed from the black of night to the blue shadows of early morning and his face is pressed into the table. The shower is running upstairs, and his coffee mug is cold where he bumps it with his elbow as he sits up. He blinks and shakes his head, scrubs at his face with fingers that are weary and slow to respond.

forget

Living as they do, it's easy to forget the mundane dangers that exist in their own backyard. Earth seemed such a cold and dark place before Jack traveled to Abydos that first time. Met Daniel, saw and believed in the simple beauty of humanity for the first time in years—a beauty made brighter against the harsh and hideous backdrop of a false god and his followers. When he came home, Earth seemed precious and full of light and kindnesses small and large. He wanted nothing more than to experience that light again for himself, save for to keep it safe. To shield this little planet from the enormous evil lurking beyond its laughable reach.

respect

“Say, Jack, is he in some kinda trouble? He sure seemed like a nice kid. Respectful, ya know. So rare to see that in kids, these days.” He gives a despairing shake of his head.

new words: help, whisper, soft, gaze, and silent.

Tagging @holbytlanna, @hollers-and-holmes, @starrybouquet, @stargatelov3r, and @appalachianapologies. No pressure, of course, loves! And to anyone who sees this and think it looks fun, this is me tagging you. Jump right in!💛

[sherifftillman]

edancy for this ask game because its me and of course i'd ask JHBSDKNJF

wouldn't expect anything less, bby <3

when I started shipping it if I did: shortly after joining the server and seeing the eddie x nancy channel, even if i was too overwhelmed by it to ever really contribute LMAO. but yeah, i'd never really thought of it as a pairing until i started reading you guys' works.

my thoughts: i love them to bits. i've been rarepair shipping for years, but being out of fandom so long made me forget how much i loved it until edancy sucked me right back in.

what makes me happy about them: they're so opposite but so complementary? like i'm watching brooklyn nine nine rn bc the final season is finally available in the uk and they're literally just stranger things' peraltiago.

what makes me sad about them: well, eddie's dead. so there's that. but also the fact that there was prime chance for nancy, while talking to wayne, to have learned things about eddie that she could have asked him about and we could have gotten more of his backstory? AND the same thing that makes me sad about every eddie ship, for a small town that seems all up in everybody's business, i wish there'd been some kind of allusion as to how they perceived each other growing up. especially with it being canon that nancy used to play d&d with the party, surely they'd have encountered each other looking it up in middle school??

things done in fanfic that annoys me: honestly i've only ever read fics written by people who are in the server bc you guys' characterisation of them both is the only one i trust, lol.

things I look for in fanfic: again, since it's a rarepair, literally any lmao. but i do skim the fic just to make sure the characterisation of nancy is just right. there's a lot of people out there who do her dirty.

who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: pretty much anyone with either of them, except b*lly, j*son, and i don't ship st*ncy unless platonically, either.

my happily ever after for them: again i accidentally helped make this part of road trip canon lmao, but the two of them travelling the world together, kicking ass n taking names. deciding to elope somewhere just bc they feel the moment's right.

who is the big spoon/little spoon: i don't really see them as "spooners" necessarily, i think they typically cuddle with nancy laying her head on his chest.

what is their favorite non-sexual activity: i just really, really love the idea of them essentially doing parallel play together. eddie strumming on his guitar while nancy reads. nancy plotting where she wants corroded coffin to tour next so that she can tag along while he busies himself writing his next campaign.

[carolrain]

Find the Word Challenge

rules: share snippets of your work containing each of the words the previous poster selected for you (optional addition: if you can't find the word in your WIPs, or you simply don't have any WIPs, you can just write a sentence around the word)

I was tagged by @apothecarose @mammameesh @smblmn and @stereopticons so thank you! It was interesting to look at my own writing from different entry points and out of context.

I'm going to put everything under a cut because it got super long. (Too long! Go get a drink of water or something first, and you have my blessing to skim.)

(Everything's from my amnesia fic unless I say otherwise.)

Words from @apothecarose: drink, blue, bright, rock, sound

drink: Well, this is how I learned that I have a scene that uses the word “drink” 7 times in 300 words, and it gets annoying and needs fixing. But this is from somewhere else.

He sat at the table, unable to do much but drink coffee and think.

This was going to be a thing, he realized. Maybe not for Patrick. Maybe Patrick’s injury itself, his lack of memory of the event, would protect him from some of the trauma. But David would remember—the gutters, the roof, the ladder, the sick feeling in his gut, his husband’s blood—and it all would be linked in his head forever.

blue: (there's lots of blue)

He held the hand with the mugs out between them. “Yours is the blue.” 

bright:

“Oh, sure.” Patrick’s face brightened, and David gave himself another little point. 

rock: (oh, weirdly, I have a whole rock bit, but I like this standalone sentence better)

He’d posed Patrick on a big rock where the light was good and taken his picture.

sound: Do other people say “sounds like” as much as I do (as in, “that sounds like an insult”) or is that something I just discovered I need to get under control?

“Right. You protested with a dignified, mature sound, and I don’t think we found the sunglasses.”

Because I found this odd, @apothecarose gets a bonus snippet. I had three of the words in one little part, so you can have it all:

“Yeah, I think I talked to her in a motel room. Bright blue walls. Then I went home—or somewhere, somewhere else. And I was so upset. For days.”

“I’d call those walls sort of a dull turquoise.” David felt Patrick’s surprise, but he closed his eyes, unable to face it. “Nevermind, forget I said anything, it’s your memory.”

“What, David? What’s going on?”

“Nothing. It sounds like you’re remembering something from here. That’s really good.”

Words from @mammameesh: bake, soft, sew, learn

bake: (This is baby quilter!Patrick.)

When they were at his house, he used to help clean off the dining room table before grabbing one of his mom’s just-baked cinnamon rolls and going off to play video games. 

Ugh, that's all I have for “bake,” but I don't like it. I know in canon they say “cinnamon buns” instead, and, I don't know, I just hate it, it sounds bad to my ears and I refuse to write it, but I also refuse to write it wrong if I know better, so I should think of an alternative baked good. Also I still need to decide on a specific video game, and I could be fixing it right now instead of complaining, but whatever.

soft:

He looked at his slate blue henley, soft bunches of it just below his elbows where he had pushed the sleeves up. 

sew: (more quilting, of course)

He also liked taking the strips of fabric he had sewn together and pressing the seam allowance to one side. That’s what his mom called it, “pressing it to the side instead of open.”

learn:

“I wonder who else has died that I don’t know about anymore.  What else has happened?”

That was a staggering thought. David couldn’t bear it, the idea of Patrick learning about so much heartache all at once. Even if each event or fact was small on its own, they would add up.  

Words from @smblmn: choice, light, falter, book, ring

choice: (such an interesting word that gave me fun options)

David was eating his Lucky Charms dry because they were out of milk. Or, rather, they only had a little bit left and they chose to use it in their coffee, a respectable, grown-up choice. Patrick had made himself oatmeal—also a respectable, grown-up choice—and when David had brought up the lack of milk for it, he had shrugged and said he’d use lots of butter instead. David was a fan of butter, but that was just wrong. The whole flavor profile would be off.

light: So much light to choose from! This is about a quilt but it’s still the amnesia fic and David.

He looked at a quilt block, how the different fabric strips rotated around the middle piece to make a square. A skinny rectangle of a cream floral, followed by a crisp parchment-colored polkadot, next to a stripe of a copper geometric print, leading into a smaller piece the shade of his habitual macchiato. Light, light, dark, dark. He traced the seams and breathed.

falter: No faltering, or rather, probably plenty of faltering I just didn’t call faltering.

book:

Patrick flipped the pages of the book until it settled open on a song that had its own crease in the spine. “So, here’s what we’re doing. You play right hand and I play left.”

ring: Oh, I have David's rings, of course, but to be different, this is him trying to explain ring theory.

“Right, but you’re supposed to complain out. That’s what Lisa—my therapist—says. Not about you—just in general, she said once, showed me a drawing. Ring theory. You are the center, the person something happened to, and I am the first ring out. Your parents, for instance, are maybe in the next ring. Support and sympathy goes towards the middle of the circle, but complaining goes outward. So your parents can tell their friends how hard it is, but to us, they should only offer to help. Anyway. You are the center. I have to support you and save my complaints for literally anyone else.”

Words from @stereopticons: miserable, flavor, think, relevant, cheap

miserable: Nothing! Lots of misery, but no one’s calling it that.

flavor:

David got his three favorite flavors of ice cream, Patrick got the ingredients for fettuccine alfredo, and they came home with a rotisserie chicken and salad in a bag because no one wants to cook after they’ve just been to the grocery store. 

think:

David didn’t know what to think about any of this, so he tried to think of something else. 

relevant: Nope, nothing relevant at all.

cheap:

The mail was still on the bed. David looked again at the postcard from Gwen, which had an advertisement for Yarn for Cheap on its front and get well wishes on its flipside.

Okay, no pressure tagging @beaiola @alysiswriting @wearpersistencewell @sspaz1000 @mostlyinthemorning

Your words: anxious, city, midnight, pocket, surprise

[lucientelrunya]

one line any fic! rules: pick ten of your fics, scroll to somewhere midpoint, pick a line chunk and share it, and then tag ten people

I was tagged by the awesome @forerussake, thank you! So, I only have 6 fics posted on AO3 and the stuff I don't have on AO3 is old RPG-stuff in changing first-person-perspective, so I won't do those (I would have to translate them and I'm too tired for that). Which means I only have 6 chunks.

Between the Shadow and the Soul (M9, FuBa)

“But I am willing to forget this happened. The dagger’s master didn’t do this. I am willing to offer the dagger’s master a trade.” Qi Tiezui swallows and finally manages to move again, taking an instinctive step back. The thing tilts its head, but doesn’t follow him again. “This vessel means a lot to you,” it adds unprompted, “You love it. I am willing to give it back to you. Unharmed. For the dagger.” The thing extends its arms, as if it wants to present Rishan’s body to him, something that could be a smile creeping onto its face. It only makes Qi Tiezui feel cold all over, because it’s more of a parody of a smile, there is too much teeth in it, danger oozing out of every pore. His hold on the dagger grows tighter on instinct. As long as he has it, this thing cannot hurt him. As long as he holds it the dagger will protect him. As long as he holds it he is the dagger’s master.

2. We go deeper than the ink beneath the skin of our tattoos (M9, Gen)

He goes in first, ducking a little under the door and turning to the spot in the corner where he knows he left Rishan on the pressure plate. And uneasiness turns to full blown panic in his gut. Rishan is still there. Exactly in the spot he had been told to stay in. There is a considerable puddle of blood at his feet and his head is slumped forward. Unmoving. Zhang Qishan stops short, staring at him for a second and at the blade piercing through his side. But then he shakes himself out of it, rushing to grab Rishan’s shoulders and get him upright again, to get some of the pressure off the blade. It’s almost a miracle that he doesn’t trigger some other trap in his haste. He can hear Ba Ye gasp behind him, but he ignores him for now.

3. The Darkest Night (M9, FuBa)

With his useless shoulder it’s a real fight to keep Lao Ba away from the door and he is panting in pain once Lao Ba gives up his fight and stops hitting him to just break down crying. Accepting that Rishan had to leave. That there really were claw marks on his arm, even if he didn’t see them with his own eyes. That there was no way at all to save him. Zhang Qishan gets down to the ground with him, holding him against his chest with his good arm, fighting against his own tears. It’s not fair, it’s still so utterly unfair. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, but he can’t be sure if Lao Ba even hears him.

4. Stolen Moments (M9 FuBa, implied Fo Ye/Rishan, NSFW)

"My darling, are you up for another round? It's okay if you're not," he asks softly, because no matter how much he would like to just hold onto Rishan and push inside of him like this, Fo-ye said he has been rough. And since Fo-ye is always rough with Rishan that means something. He would also be content with just kisses and finishing himself off against the warm body in his arms. Rishan makes a small sound, holding onto his arms as he wriggles his hips back against Ba-ye's already hard dick. "I'm good," he says and his voice is wrecked, which elicits another jolt of arousal from Ba-ye because he can vividly imagine what Fo-ye did to cause that. He smiles against Rishan's throat and just barely manages to keep himself from sucking a bruise right there, where everyone could see.

5. Like a lonely house (post-TLRTR, FuBa)

It seems to encourage Liang Wan to ask jokingly but still quietly if Ba Ye felt the need to protect her and Zhang Rishan with his snoring. Ba Ye doesn’t seem too happy about that, which seems strange because he can normally take such a small joke and laugh about it. And that he accuses her of being too cuddly-clingy in return makes it really hard not to burst out laughing. Because if that isn’t a case of the pot calling the kettle black then he doesn’t know what is. Liang Wan blushes and looks at Zhang Rishan like she doesn’t know how to answer that and wants his help with this. Interestingly it’s Huo Xiuxiu who says something before he has a chance, having watched them from her place across the table. “You both seemed pretty cuddly-clingy last night,” she says, but she looks straight at Zhang Rishan, so he isn’t sure if she is referring to him carrying Liang Wan to her bed or the part where Ba Ye had clung to him the rest of the evening. Or the part where both of them had clung to him while sleeping?

6. The Crystal Menace (Mecha-AU, FuBa, to no one's surprise)

Wu Xie is lying on one of the bunk beds, a book in his hand but he has lowered it to watch them with a confused expression. Zhang Qiling is dozing in the bed above him, seemingly undisturbed by the commotion, but Zhang Rishan knows he is probably not asleep at all and listening to everything, prepared to jump out of the bed if the need should arise. It seems almost like a normal evening, like they don’t have to process anything at all. “Sit down,” Pangzi says again, putting gentle pressure on his shoulder and he obeys and sits on one of the chairs. Pangzi slides into the one across from him, his frown now clearly worried. “I’m sorry,” Zhang Rishan says again and Pangzi just shakes his head. “Stop apologizing and tell me what’s wrong,” he says calmly, still looking worried.

I'm tagging everyone who hasn't been tagged yet and wants to do this.

[holden-caulfield]

What If I Don't Want You To?

main masterlist

REQUESTED: "Hii! I saw that you wanted people to leave kaz requests in your asks so here I am! Could you do a ff in wich the reader is a part of the crows and she's really sarcastic and flirty (similar to jesper) and she constantly flirts with kaz, (he acts like it doesn't affect him but he secretly loves it) and one day she does something especially bold that makes him blush madly and they finally admit their feelings for each other (also a lot of teasing of the crows to kaz pls) thank you so much!"

SUMMARY: reader loves to tease kaz but is scared once she realizes she might have gone too far.

WARNINGS: a mention of blood but nothing graphic

WORD COUNT: 1422

Kaz was the most closed-off person you knew. He never revealed anything, wether it was his feelings or the details of a new plan, and it enraged you. That's why you took it upon yourself to see just how far you could push him.

Flirting with Kaz Brekker wasn't an easy task, nor was it rewarding but it sure was fun. The crows loved to see which new technique you would have used and what effect it would have had on Kaz. It was usually a simple glare; a snarky comment when you were lucky. Bets were made on his reactions and you soon became a part of it.

"What are we thinking today, Y/n?" started Jesper while walking you down to the club, "I'm betting on a smirk."

"A smirk?!" you asked surprised, "I'm not even sure Kaz can smile..."

"He can, i've seen him once. I thought i was dreaming but when i pointed it out, he glared at me. I knew it was real when he whacked me with his cane." stated Jesper, shivering at the memory. You couldn't help but laugh at his theatrics. "Why do you do it, by the way?"

You took a moment to answer, suddenly serious again.

Truth was that all the innocent flirty comments you made −comments that started out as nothing more than a pastime− soon changed something in you. They were becoming truthful, and seeing Kaz answer with nothing but a dismissive comment was not easy. Trying to evoke feelings in him, inadvertently awoke feelings in you. Feelings for your boss that you shouldn't have had.

"Do i need a reason? It's fun, why do you talk to yourself in the mirror when you think no one's watching?" you retorted, raising eyebrows in genuine question.

"First of all, you shouldn't have seen that. Second of all, you should try it, you'd feel much better afterwards." he said simply and you tried restraining the smile that inevitably made its way on your face.

You entered the club which was, as always, in full swing. Several people were already ordering at the bar all kinds of alcohol while many others were betting all their possessions at the tables. Only the dregs knew that the real bets were being placed under the tables.

"Ten that he doesn't say anything." you heard someone whispering.

You were the newest of the dregs and of the crows, but you had already earned yourself a reputation.

"Twenty that he finally kicks her out." another voice from somewhere in the club.

That one made you shiver. Would he really reach a point where he would fire you? You were a useful member, you wouldn't have made it into the crows if you weren't, but were you too much? Would he eventually get tired of you?

You walked over to your usual table with Jesper to meet Inej. Kaz wasn't there yet and you were really thinking of ending it there, no more flirting, no more jokes. This was your job, nothing else.

"What do you have for us, boss?" asked Jesper as he saw Kaz approaching.

He looked as he always does: black refined clothes clinging to him in an assortment of sharp edges, making him look even more direful to new merchants. He looked dashing the way a raging sea at night is; frightening, yet enticing. And that was wrong, you reminded yourself.

"It was a dead end." he said, sitting down.

He was in a gloomy mood, certainly for the news, and even though you knew you would have let down the whole club, you couldn't help but think of the comment you had heard moments ago.

"Twenty that he finally kicks her out."

You loved working and simply being with the crows and the possibility of being kicked out was positively frightening.

But you couldn't simply stop. Everyone would have noticed something was off, he would have noticed. And then what? He would have known you liked him.

You had to do something big, something he couldn't simply ignore. You might have been out of the dregs for good, or maybe not.

Jesper kicked your shin under the table, making you focus back on the real word and motioning at all the dregs in the club, looking expectantly at you.

Kaz and Inej were now talking about something you weren't quite getting, their voices seemed distant as you tried to forget about everyone's eyes on you. You had made it a thousand times already, you could do it once more.

"So, what are we going to do now?" asked Jesper and Kaz leaned back in his chair.

"I have some other leads we can try, but we'll have to split up." he started, the prospect of new kruge in his pockets making him incredibly more cheerful, "Jesper, Inej heard something about a particularly pricey painting in east stave, she'll bring you there and you'll learn more about it. And Y/n," he began and you perked up.

It was your moment to say something and get it over with.

"We'll go to west stave, i need your help with a lead there."

"Oh, you need me?" you said, your tone excessively teasing.

"That's what i said, but i can ask Inej." he replied drily.

You hesitated but you were not one to back down, especially not in front of one of Kaz's passive aggressive comments.

"But then you wouldn't get to stare at me longingly while i work, would you?" you said, pouting slightly.

You could have expected a retort, a glare, a not-so-nice hand gesture, but not him storming out of the club.

The entirety of the dregs was dumbfounded, Jesper and Inej, who never participated in the bets but still knew about them, were agape. You were mortified.

"Maybe," began Inej, "You should go talk to him."

"And meet my demise?" you asked.

"There must be a reason why he stormed out-"

"Yes, that he would have liked to kill me but blood stains are tough to remove." Jesper laughed but you were quite serious.

You got up either way, you had to explain yourself to him, you owed him at least that, and got out.

You found him not so far from the club's entrance, leaning on the railing over the river. You approached him unsurely.

"Kaz." he didn't turn around, so you got closer to the railing and noticed that his face, even in the night with the palest light of the street lamps, was scarlet. "I'm- i'm sorry, i will stop."

He remained silent.

"That is if you still want me in the crows, if not i'll leave tonight obviously." he turned to you, usually-perfect hair now slightly tousled, face still red and unreadable.

"Why wouldn't i?" he asked.

"I'm always teasing you and i figured you hated that. I will stop."

"What if i don't want you to?" your head perked up and he turned back towards the horizon, but a smirk crept up on his face. He didn't bother hiding it.

"So you can smile?" he rolled his eyes.

"I don't like it when people point out things i obviously do, you should have noticed back there."

Heat rushed to your face and the smile he had plastered onto his face turned into a complacent one.

"It was real? You stare at me longingly?" you asked bewildered.

He looked at you once before turning to the horizon once more, "Obviously not."

But you could sense he was lying.

"Told you he could smile, Y/n!" shouted Jesper from behind you.

You both turned around to find Jesper and Inej surrounded by the dregs and a couple of other clients too, all jostling to get a better look of the scene.

"It'll be hard for him not to, i'm afraid." joined in Inej and you bit your lip to refrain the laughter. Kaz's annoyed expression didn't help you maintaining a straight face.

"I'm not paying you to stand here doing nothing, get back inside." he ordered.

Everyone turned back inside but Jesper and Inej.

"Boss, if Y/n now gets double, just know i'm great at flirting too." stated Jesper as Kaz made his way back to the club, you in tow.

He ignored him and whacked him with his cane. Again. Jesper had now yet another lovely cane story to add to his collection.

"You'll never let him forget it, won't you?" you whispered. Jesper looked at you like a child who had just entered candy land.

"Never."

taglist - @henqtic @eunoniaa @wh0re4blaise @harmqnia @sanctimoniousslytherpuff @maybesandohnos @youreso-golden @beforeoursunsets @o-rion-sta-r @mollysolo @prettygirlkay @dlmmdl @chaoticgirl04 @badass-yn @peachybaes @dracomalfoys-wh0re @dreamcxtcherr @maybanksslut @gwlvr @aleksanderwh0r3 @alltheloztboys @miraclesoflove @s1xthirty

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[definegodliness]

I posted 674 times in 2021

604 posts created (90%)

70 posts reblogged (10%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 0.1 posts.

I added 1.912 tags in 2021

#poetry - 255 posts

#spilled ink - 232 posts

#poem - 212 posts

#spilled thoughts - 190 posts

#writing - 189 posts

#creative writing - 184 posts

#tumblr poetry - 180 posts

#writers - 166 posts

#alt lit - 154 posts

#emotion - 150 posts

Longest Tag: 124 characters

#if only i had just done what i should've done without thinking 'this will do' that would have saved me a lot of redoing what

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

I told him of you till the skies turned blue

He stands in the rain, unaware of the cold And water drips off his Slender fingers; In streams of silver From his hat, and I'm told Where other vagabonds roam, he lingers; Watching the earth change its every hue From green to brown, to grey's Evermore pale, In days when the sky Scarcely shows off its blue; When all courting creatures have Halted their tale.

I watch him stand lonely as people pass by, Without ever giving him the light of day; Approach him to ask him if he ever cries, And then in sighs he did Turn to say:

"I never did try---

As nothing is endless, and no one may stay."

Can you imagine I told him of you For days on end as the cold made me shiver; For months on end, till the skies turned blue, And life returned to the flowing river; I watched the sun paint his face brightly gold As birds would nest in his lushly grown beard And as he smiled at our story told The ache of winter, simply Disappeared.

--- 18-2-2021, M.A. Tempels ©

271 notes • Posted 2021-02-18 16:45:55 GMT

#4

Immemorable

I see the statues That vaguely resemble a human, Where people sit under Eating French fries with mayonnaise; Their only use is Casting the cool of shade.

I read the books, Starting with the translator's notes Defending their own interpretation, Or the editor, explaining choices made For this brand new edition, better fitting A modern audience.

I hear the music, Thinking about the songs Someone, somewhere Last listened to, their notes then Never being heard again; The many renditions of classical pieces All sound different.

I think about the last kid Telling his parents not to play Elvis, and The silence thereafter.

I think about the names And the way language changes; Nefertiti, Jesus, Julius Caesar, William Shakespeare, Vincent Van Gogh; All mispronounced by now, to the point One should not dare deem it their name.

I think about the poets In their ridiculous quests to be remembered Beyond the span of their lifetime.

All for nothing.

How futile it is, When even the truest lovers Never altogether get to know each other; They are lucky, thriving In a lifetime spent trying, Learning ever more In continuous fascination.

I think about you, And the way we remember; How I still profoundly love               That version of you I last saw before you left;               That version of you That only existed right there And then.

Now, long gone.

At least I still remember Your cheeks, convex, when you laughed; The sound of it, both real And politely fake; The veins of your wrist, kissed; Your thigh placed birthmark's shape, And the power of your Loving gaze...

That you were kind, Believed in the world's magic, and thereby Saw it created all around you.

I try to forget The way you were, When you fell out of love; Keep you at your most beautiful.

Perhaps, I don't remember you at all then.

Only a specific version,  And only parts thereof, And all polished up, nice and shiny.

Perhaps, That's as good as it gets In terms of being eternal within Another human.

At least I still know How to pronounce your name; I remember I asked to be sure On an otherwise Immemorable day.

--- 30-8-2021, M.A. Tempels ©

324 notes • Posted 2021-08-30 13:29:26 GMT

#3

She dances

She dances, entrances; letting Her body undulate in melodic possession; Strummed muscles and tendons Conspire by musical pulses and let her Heat up her waxen physique to a figure Designed to be freed from the day's rigidness. Reimagined as pliable matter, she lives By the thrums; The thuds and the thumps That dictate the shade of her silhouette Making love to the bedroom wall. She crawls, Dips to switch, kicks, puckers lush lips In an audible air kiss for joy in existence; Re-erects herself; checks herself In the mirror patiently awaiting celebrating Messy hair and flustered faces. She lives For the panting chest heaving vehemence, And the burn of this what is her Corporeal liberation.

--- 18-1-2021, M.A. Tempels ©

369 notes • Posted 2021-01-18 01:57:18 GMT

#2

I don’t mind

People come and go Sometimes as lovers, posed They feed me sugared words And sweeten life a while They lie I don't mind This is all borrowed time Like a dream after hitting The snooze button

--- 7-8-2021, M.A. Tempels ©

429 notes • Posted 2021-08-07 12:52:19 GMT

#1

Beautiful is just a word

She was sweet She was dear She was always She was near She was heaven She was good She was the fountain of youth She was fire She was rain She was love She was pain She was rhyme She was reason She was metamorphosis She was every season She was intricate She was magic She was bliss She was tragic She was suave She was smooth She was electro-magnetic She was mind-bogglingly cute She was dancing She was joy She was life She was coy She was passion She was rage She was a woman She was undulating waves She was dominance She was submission She was imagination She was wild romance She was truth She was music She was rhythm She was everything She was creation She was godly She was God She was funny She was hot She was horny She was delirium She was a moment of clarity She was gravitation She was push She was pull She was wanderlust She was soulful She was wonder-filled She was intricacy She was overkill She was stubborn She was impatient She was ecstasy She was an angel She was care She was there She was mystery She was a major cock tease She was insightful She was hurt She was convalescence She was earth She was sun She was moon She was a better world She was just a girl

--- 8-10-2021, M.A. Tempels ©

561 notes • Posted 2021-10-08 14:32:02 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[jamesbuchananbarnesslut]

Monster Hunter Ch. 1

Pairing: Will Ransome x Female Reader

Words: 1,516

Summary: The year was 1893 in Aldwinter Essex and William Ransome, vicar, has been battling with his towns people and the myth of monsters. Especially, after strange things keep happening in town, most recently an earthquake and even children and locals reporting the sighting of a blackwater beast. Although Will, himself doesn't believe in monsters he's been struggling to convince the town people otherwise. The problem further escalates when men of the town all begin having similar dreams and describe the same woman appearing in them. After each person has these dreams, they seem to be weaker either physically or mentally and, in most cases, have been found dead. The dreams also only started occurring after a new spinster named Y/N moved in on the outskirts of town. With all the increasing rumors, Will is forced to step in and begin to decipher what's happening especially whether he believes these things are real.  

Warnings: yes there is smut in the first piece, but it’s just with Will’s wife. Fingering and P in the V

Tiny Tag List: @venusofthehardsells @spooky1980

Notes: This story first of all wouldn’t be happening without @venusofthehardsells she was the on who first introduced me to these Tom Hiddleston photos. Which in thus created a thirst and need for a fic. But the fic is now a series! I also have not actually read The Essex Serpent and have no idea how the show is going to go, so this is my OWN interpretation and telling of his character. Please enjoy, like, reblog, and leave lots of comments!

Master List

Series Master List

--------------------------------------------------------------

Will's P.O.V

I had spent another long grueling day arguing with the members of my communion about whether the myths and monsters circulating our small town were real. The rumors began last summer and only thus worsened. I'm at my wits end with it all, and just need a way to qualm what the town is currently feeling. As I worked my way back into my office, I couldn't help but think that the new spinster, Y/N, on the outskirts of town had to have something to do with this all. Considering she had moved in around last summer when the blackwater beast stories first presented themselves. But now that she, herself, was appearing in men's dreams, and then a lot of those men found dead. It was suspicious and she surely has something to do with it all, maybe if not monsters and myths than some type of black magic or witchery.  

By the time I made it back to my office I couldn't help but pull out my hidden bottle of gin and pour myself a drink before I sat down. I manage to swallow the drink all in one swig and end up pouring myself another. Sitting down at my desk with the bottle, I press my fingers to my temples and hunch over the desk. Pondering what's been happening to my small town and why everything's suddenly topsy-turvy. I also can't help but think about how this is going to further affect the towns faith in God, especially thier view him. While my thoughts are still swirling, I throw back my second drink and decide to pour another.  

As if I have a chance to relax though, there's an overflowing pile of paperwork on my desk I still need to sort out. As well as a stack of mail that's been neglected for far too long. That's when I decide it's time to down my third drink and start sorting through the paperwork and at least categorizing it. By the time I finish organizing I have a stack of marriage certificates, christenings, new memberships, and even a decent amount of death certificates. The mail will have to wait until the morning I haven't been home all week; I keep falling asleep in my office or waking up somewhere in the pews. But I know my wife is beginning to worry and I should probably make my way home before I get stuck here.  

I pour myself one final drink for the road, throw it back and begin to push myself to my feet. I tuck the gin back in its hiding place within the bookshelf and begin to shut down the building while heading out. Specifically, blowing out all the candles, turning off oil lamps and locking the doors. Even in a buzzed stupor those are things I never forget.  

I stumble down the steps of the church and make it to the cobblestone street heading towards home. Even though there aren't many streetlamps providing light, there's a clear sky and a full moon making everything gleam and glisten in the dark. As I continue my march home, I pass one of the local pubs and see none other than Y/N, herself outside it. Conversing with John Smith, one of the older blacksmiths. It seems to be a deep intimate moment, that I interrupt by holding my gaze towards them too long. Catching their attention and weird glares back. I tip my head to them and continue walking, hoping I haven't soured their mood.  

By the time I make it home, I can see all the oil lamps are off and two candles going, one in my bedroom meaning the Mrs.'s is up reading or waiting for me. And one in the kitchen, she must have put leftovers out for me. How many times has that this happened this week? I don't want to disturb anybody, so I enter the house through the rear door that leads directly into the kitchen. There's a plate of cold food on the table for me, that I scarf down ravenously. With how little I've been home; I really haven't been eating either. Once I'm done, I rinse off the dishes, setting them aside to be washed in the morning and blow out the candle.  

I slowly make my way upstairs and begin to plot ways to get myself out of this argument with my wife. Maybe because the kids were still sleeping, she'd put off the spat and wait till she sent them off too school or her parents. Either way I wasn't prepared to walk in and find her sitting naked in the candlelight. It's almost like she knew I'd finally make my way home tonight. That or she's been truly waiting each night like this for my return home. Either way I didn't deserve a woman as good as her.  

Her sultry voice broke my shocked stupor, "I was beginning to wonder when I'd ever see you again."

I run my hands through my hair, a nervous habit, and work up a response, "you know, I can't rest easy until I convince everyone that this blackwater serpent isn't real. And now I have reports of Y/N appearing in men's dreams and a lot of those men begin found dead within a couple days or weeks shortly thereafter."

I must have been running my mouth because by the time I look to my wife again she is already up from the bed and stripping me of my clothing.  

"I understand that this is a huge deal honey, but you can't keep burning the candle at both ends and pushing yourself like this," she states while finishing pulling the reaming clothes from my body. "Come, join me in bed maybe if I provide my wifely duties, I can help break you out of this stump." Which is followed by her hands caressing my chest and moving up towards my neck, face and into my hair. Where she pulls my gaze to hers to get a clear look in my eyes. I know she can see how tired and stressed out I am.  

I let her pull me into bed, she makes it so I land on top of her, and I can't help but agree that now would be a good time to have sex. It also means she isn't mad or at least she's trying to amend things this way instead. I begin to kiss her and settle myself in between her legs where my member begins to harden against her. Our kissing becomes passionate, and I feel her entrance slicken. I slide my fingers along her slit and begin to spread her wetness around causing mewls to spill from her mouth into mine. Once she's decently wet, I slip a finger and then two into her, working them at a steady pace. While I move my lips to her chest and tell her she must quiet herself or else she'll wake the children in a hushed mummer.  

After I feel her cum around my finger, I work that same hand over my member, making sure to get it nice and wet. Then I line myself up with her entrance and push in slowly, while putting my hand over her mouth.  

"You just can't help yourself tonight my dear," I mumble into her ear while giving her a chance to adjust to my member in her. She bites my hand, a clear sign I need to get a move on, and I begin to push myself in and out of her tight channel. The pace isn't slow for long though and I begin pounding into her. Her whines spilling out but muffled behind my hand.  

"I know your close again, cum with me yeah?" She nods and with that I drop my hips lower changing the angle. Which immediately triggers her orgasm, causing her tight channel to milk me and pushing me into my orgasm. I pump my seed into her and then roll of to the side. Pulling her tightly into my arms I drift off into sleep thinking about Y/N, John Smith, and the rumors circulating our small town.  

[papipopsicle]

HANDMADE HEAVEN PART ONE

Pairing: Steve Harrington X Hargrove!Reader

Summary: In which the new Queen of Hawkins High finds herself falling for the fallen king.

Song: Easier by 5 Seconds of Summer

Warnings: swearing, asshole parental figures

Words: 1.7K

MASTERLIST

feedback is always appreciated

The house itself was fine, not pretty and polished like the one she grew up in, but at the very least she was grateful not to be sleeping in another motel bed filled with broken springs and anonymous stains. Susan greeted her like a good little home maker, tightly waved hair bouncing against her shoulders as she walked down the steps of the porch.

"How was it, sweetie?" The ginger woman waited with pursed lips while her step daughter stood from the vehicle. She really hated that car, it stood out like a sore thumb next to her husband's silver SUV, especially when her brothers parked alongside the two.

"Not the worst." Y/N shrugged. She missed the silent solace already, "Has Max decided which room she wants?"

Susan nodded, leading the blonde into their new home, "She's at the back opposite your father and I. William hasn't arrived yet so you have the choice of the one next to hers or ours."

Without hesitation she chose the one next to Max's. Her father helped unload her heavier furniture from the U-Haul currently fixed to the back of her red muscle car. The room was in the shape on an 'L', mirroring her step sister's. Her small double bed only just managed to fit in the crook, creating a cosy space to drift away in.

Hours of rearranging the room passed before a navy blue Camaro could be heard pulling up onto the curb and a muggy sunset made itself present in her bedroom window. Emptying out her socks into the small drawer of her dresser, Y/N dropped the empty black bin liner behind her and rushed to greet her brother.

"Billy!" She squealed, attacking him with a hug. The two would roughhouse and swear at each other like drunken sailors, but their love for each other would always be the first thing anyone noticed about the twins. He picked her up with ease and spun her around, quickly dropping her to the floor again.

Y/N's twin would sometimes forget the rude masculine persona he put on and actually behaved like himself, but it never lasted long with their father close by.

"See that hunk of crap didn't kill you on the way here then?" Billy joked as they both carried a bed frame into his new room. His distaste for the nineteen-sixty-eight Mustang Cobra was evident whenever it came up in conversation, only due to it being left to her rather than him in their mother's will.

"Not just yet." His sister hummed and the two let out a huff as they dropped the mattress onto the wooden frame. They talked about the bullshit of finishing their senior year at a completely different school and what that we're going to dress up as for Halloween. It was their favourite holiday and this year she planned on being Tom Cruise from Risky Business. Nobody would understand it but it was better than Billy's 'slutty teen boy' costume he wore most days anyway.

"Y/N/N honey, could you come into the lounge!" Susan's sugary tone rang through the house. The twins shared a look that always subconsciously found their faces when she attempted to play doting step mother.

Fucking doormat of a woman.

"Coming." The blonde shut her brothers door on the way out and walking down the hallway into the small living area. By now any remnants of the sun had long hidden away from Hawkins and only warm ceiling lights lit up her face.

Susan appeared from the kitchen door with a tray full of oatmeal cookies, grin etched into her features like puppet strings pulling at her cheeks, "Try one, would you?" She gleamed, pushing the metal tray out for emphasis, "I'd ask your father but he'd just say they were nice, never wants to upset me. He's too good."

Not wanting to answer, Y/N took a small crumbly cookie and bit into it, eyes bugging out at the statement only able to nod in response.

The step mother watched in anticipation, hair bouncing at her shoulders as usual, "So, gorgeous? Be honest with me, how are they?"

"Really good," She didn't like the woman, but couldn't deny her ability to copy a recipe, "I think these may even top the peanut butter ones."

Susan's sterile smile managed to stretch further and Y/N was scared her lips may crack and bleed from the force, "Perfect! We're handing them out to our new neighbours tomorrow. Which reminds me, I need you to get some new trainers for Maxine tomorrow, nothing expensive though, they're just for gym class. She's a four now.

The blonde resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and instead nodded while an idea popped into her head, "I drove past a giant superstore on my way here, I'm sure they're still open I can just go now."

"Are you sure, honey?" Susan sounded concerned, but Neil didn't share the same feelings, "Curfew is eleven until you start school on Monday, same rules apply here."

"I know, Dad." She nodded curtly and turned on her heel, not wasting a moment grabbing her brothers old khaki bomber jacket and her car keys. The front door shut just as quickly as it opened, leaving the small U Haul sitting on the driveway next to Billy's Camaro.

It had been her brother's favourite jacket since he was sixteen, but he'd gained so much muscle his arms couldn't slip into it anymore. Although Y/N was tall for the average girl, the material still managed to shroud her frame.

Y/N felt amazed after managing to get to the store fairly easily, she picked up some plain black pumps and paid for them with cash, pocketing the receipt to make sure Neil would reimburse her. That took less than fifteen minutes. There were still over two hours until she needed to be back at the house and she needed to make the most of any freedom from her father.

She was her mother's daughter and the opposite of Susan Mayfield-Hargrove; if someone showed themselves as a thorn and not the rose they seemed to be, they were a thorn. She could accept it and move on, which is difficult when they own the house she calls home. Her step mother was a fixer, finding wilted petals and taping them up against the thorn to appear more sightly. If Neil was the thorn, Y/N the rose, then Susan was a daisy in a field where she didn’t belong.

The younger Hargrove twin decided to explore her new home, driving around cul-de-sacs and roads which mirrored one another. After a while of aimless driving, Y/N parked up at the side of a quiet road, seeming to back onto a rich neighbourhood. She locked the muscle car, Ellie, and began walking on the edge of the road.

"Stay put, El." She whispered to herself, echoing her mother's voice. Meredith Hargrove always swore her car changed parking spaces whenever they went somewhere together.

Y/N couldn't imagine having so much space, no family was big enough to make use of it all. Her feet brought her into the small forest area, passing a few more eccentric gardens before finding one which intrigued her. The lights were all off, moonlight bouncing off the unmoving water in the centre of the garden.

Swimming had always been something the Hargrove girl not only loved but turned to in uncertainty. Billy would surf alongside her a long time ago, but he hadn't for years now. Her eyes danced around each room, unable to see any kind of life within the mansion. Against Y/N’s better judgement, she left the tall trees and let her toes edge onto someone's private property.

It seems a shame not to.

Fallen leaves stopped crunching under her brown boots as they found concrete slabs. The family must have employed a cleaner and gardener as nothing seemed out of place or dirty. The water was clear and not a single leaf or bug lay on its surface. Crouching down, her fingers drifted along the water, creating a small ripple, confirming her suspicions of how cold it would be.

She didn't care, stripping down into her underwear in the cool autumnal winds, anyone would've thought she was a crazy person. Y/N ignored the small ladder next to her and gracefully dived into the pool, swimming down to the bottom until she needed to come back up for air. The blonde lay on her back, staring up at the stars wondering what her friends were doing on the other side of America. Probably at Sadie's getting high.

Y/N wasn't sure how much time had passed, her fingertips were now wrinkled but it didn't bother her. She was in her element, so much so she didn't register when the kitchen light turned on and alerted the homeowner of someone in their pool.

Steve's body was overcome with terror as he did a double, triple take out of the kitchen window at the figure in his garden. He only wanted some leftover lasagne. Grabbing his nail punctured bat, the home alone teenager unlocked the back door, and against his own better judgement, creeped towards the intruder.

As he came closer, he was thankful to find a girl than a demogorgan, a girl he certainly didn't recognise. Her blonde hair lay on top of the water like a halo as she floated in her own world.

"Hello?" He questioned, bat still firmly in hand, "Why the fuck are you naked in my pool?"

Y/N left her mini trance, flailing in the water as her eyes found a teenage boy wielding an odd weapon, only a scream leaving her lips in response.

part two?

want to be tagged? just send in an ask!

[stanzoeywade]

Queen B Mamma Mia AU pt.1

Taglist: @somewillwin @belvoiresqueenbee @origmansello @clownery-is-a-new-personality @kamilahtrash @poppysminion @poppysimp @minsinclair-lee @poppysmc @iiizdumb @uselesslesbianfr @scattered-to-the-winds @idiot-justidiot @toyhenoctus @begoniathotia @otakufangirl-12 @malvinghlein

Summary: This will be based off the sequel so yeah. Enjoy. Hopefully I do this AU justice lmaooo. This first part will be Chloe St.James centric where she will be the character Harry.

First of all I headcanon Chloe to look like Chloe Grace Moretz, because they kinda look the same with their facial structure and nose shape. You don't have to agree, I'm just saying lol.

•Everything starts with you graduating from Belvoire University. Zoey and Penelope as your two best friends, and as a way of wanting freedom, you decide to go around the world in hopes of finding somewhere to settle down.

• Your first stop is Paris, France - also known as the fashion capital as well as being the famous city of love. You immediately fall for the sights that Paris has to offer, it's beautiful, you can't help but think.

• You stumble your way into a hostel tucked away in a small corner of Paris. You're ringing the bell waiting for a concierge but no one comes, so you decide to go behind the counter to get a key for a room. I mean who's gonna turn down the chance to get a free room amirite?

• This is when you meet Chloe, who's dressed in nothing but a bathrobe. Hair wet and dripping on the staircase. The two of you make eye contact and she immediately tries to explain in broken French and English. You just look at her in amusement, having to bite your lower lip to prevent yourself from laughing. "Je voudrais une spare key, s'il vous plaît." she says desperately hoping you understand. "Je suis locked out ma chambre." she pleads.

• Your eyebrows raise in amusement and you can't help but tease her. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite understand. Can you please repeat that?." you say in English. She quickly repeats her broken French until she realises, and she stares at you with a deadpan expression.

• "I don't work here." you quickly explain. She looks at you, curiosity present in those big blue eyes. "I'm gonna call the police." she chides, as to remove the awkward tension. You're quick to say "Please don't." and she just laughs and says "Yeah, I don't think they'll understand my French anyway."

• You quickly check her out, and you're instantly attracted, 'She looks really cute, and she's very sweet too.' - you think to yourself. Chloe also checks you out and thinks 'She's really pretty, I hope she isn't dating anyone. Maybe I have a chance?'

• The two of you decide to tour around Paris together, and you're immediately charmed by Chloe, she's so very nice, albeit naive but she's very charming in her awkward way.

• Chloe's in the same boat, she didn't think that she could fall this fast, but you're a welcome surprise, she loves how you listen and play along with her whenever she has weird thoughts. The two of you find each other very attractive, and it's obvious judging by your long stares and lingering touches.

• "Would it be okay if you hold your bag using your other arm?" she asks meekly. You're confused and you say "Sure, but why?" You notice that she looks shy, cheeks flushed as she stares at the ground. "It's so I can hold your hand" she says in a quiet voice.

• Your heart soars because how can leather jacket wearing "bad girl" Chloe be so fucking cute. You're immediately charmed and you oblige by holding her hand as you walk through the streets of Paris.

• The two of you make your way to a small French restaurant, and despite its outside appearance, you're surprised by how cozy it looks on the inside. You sit across from Chloe, who looks at you with an intense gaze you can feel like she's staring at your soul.

• You learn a lot about Chloe and she's quick to open up to you. It's the same for you though, she makes you feel at ease and even though you've only known each other for a few hours, you can already see yourself trusting her. You tell her about your dream of finding that one place you can call home, and you tell her of your plan to go to Greece someday.

Play Waterloo.

• "What do you think about sleeping together?" she says tentatively, and you choke on your water. "Well aren't you forward" you say playfully. She looks at you and pulls out her guitar, where she starts to play and sing, serenading you. You're surprised by how well she can sing and you can't help but blush.

• You stop her from singing, and she's quick to explain why. "You would be my first" she says quietly and you don't believe her. "You can't be serious, Chloe have you seen yourself? You're lying right?" you say suspicious, but Chloe just looks at you sincerely as she says "There's a lot of advantages of us sleeping together and it will be a win-win situation. I'm also being serious, you'll be my first. It's mad but I think I like you."

• By the end of the night the two of you go to her room, where you spend the night.

NSFW CUT

• As soon as you get to her room at the end of the night, you quickly kiss her gently, as to not overwhelm her. You ask "Are you sure you want to do this Chloe?" and she nods her head as she says "I've never been so sure."

• It starts slow and gentle, where both of you gently caress each other's body, reveling at the soft skin under your touch. You can't help but want to kiss Chloe senseless, especially with that soft expression on her face.

• You slowly start to begin undressing her, tugging on her jacket and quickly taking her shirt off. You can't help but stare at her as you whisper "Beautiful". Her milky white skin looks soft and unblemished, especially with the light shining on her, making it seem like a halo was adorning the top of her head, due to her platinum blonde hair. Your breath is taken away, and you're slowly pulled back to reality when she kisses you again.

• "It's not fair if I'm the only one stripped down to my underwear." she says voice husky from desire. She takes her time undressing you as if opening a present. She kisses each patch of skin that she unravels, her kisses trailing down your neck to your breasts.

• You whine at her soft kisses, and you pull her face towards your lips, kissing her as your hands move downwards to her stomach. She shudders at your touch, and your hands go lower until they find the inside of her thighs.

• You pull at the fabric of her underwear, pulling it down, and Chloe gasps into the kiss, and you pull away to kiss her neck, sucking and biting to leave marks, Chloe's soft whimpers and moans being music to your ears.

• You start to tease her clit, adding pressure using your fingers. Her eyes are glossy, filled with lust as her hips jerk forward wanting more friction. "Rosie, please I need you inside." she pleads desperately. You comply and slide your index and middle fingers inside. She groans at the contact and slightly jerks her hips forward. Your thumb brushes against her clit, which earns you yet another moan.

• You want to hear more so you thrust your fingers in and out slowly, to make sure that she gets used to the movement first. As soon as you feel her inner walls clench around your fingers, you can't help the groan that comes out your mouth as you say "Fuck Chloe, you're so tight." You start to thrust faster and Chloe lets out a wail in pleasure, her body shuddering as you find her g-spot. She's close to cumming, and you can tell because she's lost control of her upper body, which means that she has to lean forward to you for support. She climaxes with a silent moan, body glistening with sweat making her glow and you've never seen anything so hot.

• After Chloe comes down from her high, you kiss her softly and ask "Did that feel as good as it looked?" Her cheeks are still flushed and her breathing is still shaky, and all she can do is nod her head as a response.

• The two of you just bask in the afterglow, cuddling together as Chloe starts pillow talk. "That was nice, it was more than nice actually." she rambles on and you find her oh so very cute at this moment. "Was that okay for you?" she asks shyly, and your response is a soft smile as you say "It was lovely, I had a great time."

• The next day Chloe wakes up to a note by the drawer next to bed and it reads "Thank you for last night, Chloe, that was amazing. I'm sorry for saying goodbye through a note, but I feel like amazing things are waiting for me."

• She immediately gets up out of bed and runs to the airport getting herself a spot on the next flight to Greece.

• As she gets there, she sees you with another woman on a boat, leaving the dock, and her heart is immediately left broken. "Why did I have to fall for you, Rosie Hughes?" she whispers, voice breaking as she sees your figure disappear off into the distance.

Hi, hi everyone this is the first part of the AU, hopefully I did it justice, as always don't forget to like or reblog. (I read the tags when you guys reblog and it always makes me happy when I see that you just enjoyed what I wrote.) The next part will be about Veronica as Bill. 🥺💋 I hope you enjoyed reading. 💕

[80s-roger]

Not On My Watch (pt 5)

Pairing: Dad!Roger x Mum!Reader

summary: you’re divorced with queen’s roger taylor due to constant cheating and irrational behaviour towards you. but u have one person in common: your daughter, Laura aka your favourite human on earth. Your marriage with roger had its ups and downs but laura was the happiness in it. Now that she’s 8 and starts to realise how your terms with roger are, you finally tell her that you’re seeing another man except her father and she took it really warmly. She seemed excited to meet the new man unlikely your ex husband who accidentally learns about it by Laura, the weekend you would leave her at his place: on weekends you had some cute getaways with R/N because the court decided that Laura could stay or visit her dad on weekends and stay with him for five days each Christmas and easter vacations. On summers he has the right to be with her for two weeks.

check: masterlist // dialogue prompts

If you haven't read the previous chapters, here they are: part one // part two // part three // part four

note: it wasn’t supposed to be this specific plot, but I promise you the good one is at next one ;)

warnings: flashback scenes, angst, fluff

words: 2,849

taglist: @madeinheavxn​ @namelesslosers​ @stacymaytaylor​ (send me an ask or a message if you want to be tagged)

You set the table, eating like a proper family for the first time in two and a half years. Laura was extremely happy seeing her family reunited. You were telling her stories from the past, which she found intriguing and interesting. You didn't forget mentioning about Roger taking you with him on tour in the United States, a year after started dating. It was the first time you went abroad. You fell for Roger hard. Losing him made you lose yourself too.

"Wow mum, you never told me stories with dad. Fairytales are boring." She gasped after hearing your US experience.

"Why didn't you tell her stories about us?" Roger curiously asked.

"Because at the time, our marriage was going downhill. You know, so I tried to not think of you." You answered.

"Oh.." he didn't have to say something. "So Laura, do you want to hear another story of mum and me?" He asked. Meanwhile, you prepared the dishes for the washing machine. Laura nodded, waiting for the narration.

Flashback

"So you're going out with Kath's friend?" Brian asked Roger.

"Yes," Roger answered while fixing himself at the mirror. "So Kath is your new girlfriend? I thought she was a groupie." He joked.

"Haha, very funny." Brian mocked him. "She's a nice company." He added.

"What about the bone zone?" The blond drummer pondered with a naughty smile on his face.

"That's good too, I don't complain." He shared a laugh with his friend. "So where will you meet her?" He questioned.

"Outside of the pub we met." He answered. "Where should I take her?" Roger nervously asked as if he never went on a date.

"Where do you take most of the girls you like?" Brian asked trying to help him think rationally.

"Bed?" He said back and gained an eye roll from Brian. "But Y/N is so hard to get, I don't know. I'm afraid if I say something wrong she'll lose interest in any second." He mumbled.

"Easy Rog.." Brian tried to calm his friend down. "She agreed to go on a date with you, that's progress, right?" He continued. Roger nodded. "Which means she finds you cute or hot or I don't know how girls describe us." He chuckled at the end making the blond drummer laugh.

"Alright, maybe if I take her to some other pub where we can talk?" Roger thought again.

"Excellent. She's not like the other girls you date, Roger. She's, you know, -" Brian tried to explain what type of girl you are.

"The I-want-the-man-to-chase-me. She's screaming that." Roger described what girl you are and he was right. "It was so hard for me to get to talk with her after our gig ended, I'm even surprised she finally agreed." He added, now wearing his perfume, ready to meet you.

"She likes you, pal. Good luck!" Brian hugged his friend and Roger was on his way to meet you.

You were nervous too. You didn't want to be late. You were used to never arriving on time, but this time, it was a date with a man you liked from the first moment, as much as you denied it. There wouldn't be any other second chance with him, he'd become a famous rockstar.

"There you are!" Roger spotted you coming faster to his place.

"Shit, am I late?" You asked, checking your watch.

"No, no, I just arrived." He was waiting for you, for about ten minutes. But he came at the checkpoint a little earlier due to impatience seeing you.

"Alright then." You stopped a little to catch your breath. Your high heels hurt your feet by walking so fast. But you wanted to look beautiful. The blue dress you were wearing had Roger staring at it and you all the time.

"You look so beautiful Y/N." He gasped as he was checking you out. "Nice dress, nice heels, nice hair, nice you." He ended the compliment with a hand kiss. He really wanted you to catch feelings for him.

"Thank you, Roger." You smiled after receiving his kiss and his compliments. "Where can we go?" You asked.

"There's another pub downtown that plays jazz music and we can talk without shouting." He joked and gently grabbed your hand, opened the door for you and placed you inside.

"Oh, I like jazz." You were surprised that he was probably into jazz. You waited for him to get into his red Renault car.

"Perfect, let's go." He started the engine and nervousness hit your body. You were shaking, feeling like throwing up. A handsome guy next to you, an upcoming legend wants to go on a date with you. "Hey, are you alright?" He asked after stopping at the red traffic light. He checked your hands trembling and gently placed his on yours. "You're not cold, are you?" He asked. You can't be cold on a May night.

"No, I'm just a little nervous." You tried to keep smiling. You're not the tough girl he met a couple of days ago, but a vulnerable nineteen-year-old girl trying to find love.

Roger was feeling split: He had two options in his head. Should he take you to the pub you both agreed or somewhere isolated to talk with no one seeing. That would make you feel more uncomfortable.

"What do you want me to do?" He asked waiting for any answer. "You want me to keep driving or stop somewhere? I promise I won't do anything." He shared his ideas with you. You looked at him confused.

"Could you stop somewhere, please?" You politely asked trying to not sound bitter after your sudden mood.

"Sure, are you alright?" He asked again, trying to find any isolated place for you two.

"Yes, it happens a lot when I'm feeling nervous." You explained.

He didn't say a word. Until he found that place, behind a church, with no soul around. It seemed creepy if you consider you are on the car with a man you met a week ago. But you liked him.

"Listen, if you are feeling nervous, we can call it off." He showed empathy at you feeling awkward.

"No, I won't have another chance with you if we call it off." You got out of the car, trying to get some air. Roger followed your moves, now standing behind you.

"What do you mean?" He asked raising his hands.

"I mean you'll become famous and everything that goes with it and you'll forget about me anyways." You tried to explain.

"Why would I forget you? I like you." He straightforwardly said, sending you shivers.

"I like you too, but I don't want me to love you."  You are a person full of emotions, throwing that to Roger made him feel weird.

"Why are you talking about love? This is a date, not a wedding." He objected.

"Exactly, I'm afraid if we become a girlfriend-boyfriend thing, I'll eventually love you and then things will get nasty." You could look years away. Look at you now.

"Are you nuts? I wanted to get to know you, I want to know you well, be my girlfriend, how do we call these things?" He questioned.

"Relationship." You answered turning around, to face him. "Would you like that? I wanted that for years." You asked trying to hide your desperation. But you couldn't.

"Hold on, you never had a relationship?" He asked confused, coming closer to you.

"Don't make fun of that, I never liked the boys who approached me." You admitted. You could see his eyes, sparkling from excitement because he knew now how inexperienced you were on that part. A hopeless romantic with huge fantasy.

"Well, I'd like to be the one." He smirked and grabbed his hands around your waist, pulled you into his arms and kissed your lips. Your first kiss ever. His lips harmoniously moved onto yours giving them what they needed all this time. Tenderness. "How was that?" He asked, his eyes now focused on yours.

"Amazing." You licked your lips and smiled, not feeling nervous anymore.

"Is the pub still a plan?" He asked.

"Yes." You were so hyped after your kiss you couldn't focus on anything besides Roger. His hand caught yours leading you back to his car.

Flashback ended.

"Wow, mum!" She turned to your place. "Dad was your first kiss?" She asked fully awed by the narration.

"Yes, he was." You blushed as you both looked at each other. He was fluttered by your current reaction. Your first everything.

"Oh dad, tell me more!" She begged for more stories, but it was time to leave.

"No young lady, I need to have some other memories between your mum and me." He playfully berated her. "Besides, we have to take you to Laura." You stood up from the chairs and moved towards the hall, wearing your shoes.

"Mum, will you tell me these stories instead of fairytales?' She asked while Roger helped her once more with tying her shoes.

"Yes, I will." You answered. You wanted to tell her stories about you and her father, but most of these are explicit. Not special for children.

-------------------------------------

Roger drove off to John's house to leave Laura. "I'll take her inside." He declared and you stayed in the car to wait.

"Daddy, what about my stuff?" She asked.

"We're going to mum's place now to take your stuff. We'll come again." He rubbed her head before knocking the door.

"Hey Roger, I was waiting for you now." He smiled at his bandmate and turned his gaze to Laura. "Hello, Laura! The other Laura waits for you inside! Come in!" He kissed her head.

"Bye, daddy!" She hugged him and walked inside the house.

"I'll come back again to bring her clothes and tomorrow's books for school," Roger said.

"Sure. I'm waiting for the details tomorrow." John winked.

"Ah, I see where you're getting with that." Roger laughed. "Just the abstract." He joked and left the grand house to come back to you.

"You have the keys to your apartment?" Roger asked you.

"Yes. And a piper spray for any case." You showed him that, referring to R/N who could wait for you around the corner.

"He won't harm you, over my dead body." He reassured you and placed a kiss on your forehead. "Shall we go?" He asked and you nodded.

There wasn't any talk during the car drive, but that didn't make it awkward. It was a peaceful silence you used to have before the dark days arrived. You couldn't hide your fear though, it was visible. Your hands were rubbing your thighs nervously. Roger, noticed your behaviour and placed his hand on yours. "It's going to be alright. That's why I'm here, with you." He placed his head on yours, giving you a reassuring kiss. You hugged him in return, feeling his scent against your senses. He smelled amazing. His perfume combined with nicotine was what you could characterize him.

You opened your apartment's door, seeing the inside of the house upside down. You knew he would fuck it up. All you could think of was who's going to clean this mess?

"Oh God-" you gasped and closed the door behind you.

"Y/N, don't worry we'll fix this mess together." He reassured you. "Do you think he did it on purpose?" He asked trying to figure out what was R/N's intent.

"Shit." You gasped again, looking at your ex-husband horrified.

"What?" He asked after seeing you turning pale.

"FUCK." You yelled, running to Laura's bedroom, looking for your diary. He knew about it.

You searched for it at the place you're hiding it and thanked your lucky stars it was up there inside the pillows you keep at the closet. "Oh God, oh God, thank you!" You stared above, kicking out all your angst while holding your huge notebook. It was clever of you to hide something personal at your daughter's room, in a cupboard she never uses. Roger followed you and sat next to you.

"Y/N, you alright?" He asked placing his hand at your back. His eyes fell at the notebook you were tightly holding. "What's this?" He curiously asked and tried to hold it but you politely refused. "Oh. Is it personal?" He questioned.

"I was keeping a diary all this time." You confessed.

"A diary? How long?" He asked as he was checking all these used pages.

"Before you." You smiled and scrolled a few of your pages.

"Wow, that's a lot..." he was amused. "So I guess I'm in there, aren't I?" He asked checking for assurance.

"Don't guess. Be sure." You smiled.

"Can I see just one page please?" He politely asked.

"I'll show you my favourite." You seemed too excited to get to a specific page.

Roger next to you was smiling through the entire process, trying to read while pages were fastly zapping, until you stopped somewhere from the first twenty pages. He focused on your point of view, trying to understand what you were writing about.

"Oh, your first time." He awed. After reading the sentence: my heart was beating so fast at the moment he was inside me, even my soul could see his, from our eyes. "I didn't know you were so sentimental about it." His cheeks blushed from everything you wrote.

"Of course I was, it was my first time. I loved you, Roger." You opened your heart to him for one more time. His eyes were wide opened. It was the first time he got to hear from you how you really felt about your first time. He continued reading to the next day, how you behaved after your first time.

It had to happen right? Or not? My parents are going to kill me. It should have happened after marriage. That's what they've been saying all my life. I love Roger but he would never settle for a wedding. He's a rockstar now, he would probably abandon me if I ask him to marry me. I have to keep it a secret.

"Y/N, you never told me that your parents are against sex before the wedding." He was shocked at what you were writing.

"I know, I had to do it, otherwise you'd break up with me. I didn't want that at the time." You said feeling secure now that he's still by your side.

"Oh, baby..." he whispered and kept you in his arms. "Was it too important to your family to keep your virginity?" He asked.

"It was for them to keep it until my wedding night." You started. "But you know? I only wanted to give it to the man I loved so bad one summer night. And it was special for me, you made it all about me." You continued and stayed in his arms for a couple of minutes. "They always believed my first time was at our wedding."

"I think you have to take this with you. It's not safe on its own. We should grab Laura's stuff and drive them off to John's." You both stood up and put your daughter's stuff in a bag.

You got in the car again, still silent. You were just reading random pages from your diary, getting all emotional. From you meeting him, dating him, marrying him, giving birth to his child, divorcing him... You wrote many things in there. It has an emotional value. You knew by now that Roger was the only person you wouldn't bother reading it, after your permission of course, because almost every page has his name on it.

---------------------

After giving Laura her stuff, you went back to Roger's fancy house. You were getting used to getting there. He looked like wanting to stay with you again, without including the disagreements. He opened the door and you both walked upstairs, leading to his bedroom.

"Do you think you should stay here now?" He asked.

"Why?" You returned as you placed your diary at the nightstand.

"That asshole could come to your place, any moment. You're not safe." He explained. "Maybe you should stay here. With me." He came closer to you, his face inches away from yours. You didn't say anything. Just let him do all the work for you.

His kiss was deep and his hands couldn't restrict themselves from touching your waist. These couple of days, you are much closer than you were when your marriage went downhill. You wanted to give it a chance.

"Tonight, I want you to be loud. I missed that." He stated, looking you into your eyes.

"Loud?" You asked, trying to understand his motives.

"Really loud. This is why Laura isn't here." He winked and left his room, going to the bathroom to take a shower.

"You're the filthiest man I know!" You playfully yelled at him.

"Oh, I know love!" He loudly answered from the bathroom and so on, you went downstairs to fix two glasses of red wine. Chilling situations like these, haven't happened since Laura was a baby.