#but ive had this fic in my drafts for like a year and i needed to put it into the wild

[witchspeka]

It's always "Shou and Ritsu need to blow stuff up with their minds for mental health reasons" or Ritsu and Teru or even Shou and Teru!

But what about Mob? When does he get to blow stuff up with his mind for funsies? For shits and giggles? He didn't go through all of those meltdowns and character development for nothing, let him go ham on a junkyard car or something smh

I believe in Mob's narrative given right to fuck shit up sometimes

[honeydots]

Cast Iron & Hickory Wood 🌨 ✧ xanlow | completed (3/3) | 10.6k ✧ rated T Summary: As Xander and Laslow are scouting an abandoned weather outpost amidst a snow storm, bandits strike. And when Laslow is left in a less than prime condition, their only choice is to take shelter in the shambling cabin.

[coldvampire]

need at least 1 person to be mentally ill with in the dms about my own writing perhaps then ill be able to publish something

[lacomandante]

.

[intertexts]

google docs exhumation

[solasan]

just finished outlining a cedistair longfic 🤫

[hannieehaee]

OUTTA MY MIND (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: getting a brand new job as a senior idol's manager was scary enough on its own, but it became even worse when said idol was jeon jungkook, idol of all idols. what made it even worse? when jungkook began taking a special liking to you, damning any conflict of interest his crush on you may have had.

content: idol!au, staff!reader x idol!jungkook, jungkook is shameless about his crush on reader, but it's fine bc reader likes him back!!, reader acts hard to get bc her job is too important though boo, afab reader, banter, jk is a flirt, reader is a little bit shy, a lot of rlly wrong info about working in the industry, smut, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 924 (teaser); 7.7k (full fic)

release date: may 31st

or you can check it out on my ko-fi or patreon today by subscribing to either one!

a/n: ive had this in the drafts for a while but kept forgetting to finish it lol anyways i hope u guys enjoy it once it comes out<3 (also not 100% proofread oops..)

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

Whenever you'd tell someone you worked within the entertainment industry, – the music industry, to be precise – people always showed a little extra interest in your words, probably assuming you to be involved in the flashier aspects of it. The statement on it's own sounded exciting, enigmatic even. This would only then be followed by disappointed upon finding out your specific profession of choice, deeming it less exciting than most.

You were a manager. No, you were not an active member of the entertainment industry itself, but you were one of the many pillars necessary for the talent to create the entertainment people would always seek.

Being as young as you were, it had been hard to get to where you were so quickly. Networking had been your best friend all throughout your career, eventually landing you in your current role – one that would only open even more doors for you.

It had only been a week since you had received a call from your friend – an old friend from an internship who just so happened to be a former Hybe video producer – letting you know of a recent opening as one of the many managers at the company. Having been between gigs at the time, you jumped at the chance without a second thought. Hybe? The biggest entertainment company in Korea? You didn't need any details before agreeing.

It was a few days later in which you found out the details. The opportunity had been even more life-altering than you'd thought.

Originally, you had believed you'd end up becoming manager to one of the many brand new rookie groups in the growing company. With so many surging youth in the industry, it made sense to you that you'd be assigned such a role, not having had any prior experience within Hybe itself.

Except that wasn't the case. Having previously worked and interned at a few other South Korean entertainment companies through the years, it seemed like Hybe deemed you experienced enough to assign you the role of becoming a senior artist's manager.

Jeon Jungkook.

Senior artist had been an understatement. Those had been the words written in your contract, explaining your role in excruciating detail, yet failing to mention that your client would be Korea's most popular singer.

You couldn't lie, you were insanely intimidated by your new role. Despite being proudly skilled at your job, becoming the manager of an idol who had been in the game for longer than you'd even been out of college was a bit scary. Jungkook had gone from the absolute bottom to the top, he had most likely lived through it all by now – what kind of expertise could you offer someone who had already seen it all?

Being manager of an idol differed slightly from managing any other person. Idol companies usually handled the schedulings, bookings, and the legalities of their artists. As a manager, you somewhat took the role of a bodyguard. You were meant to show up everywhere Jungkook went and become his spokesperson – vying for him as if your life depended on it.

And now it was too late to back out – not that you actually wanted to. All paperwork had been signed, you had your own personal Hybe badge and all the benefits that came along with working at the company. Any feelings of intimidation or fear for the role would have to be put aside as you walked into the Hybe building to meet with your new client; the boy you'd have to stick by 24/7 from now on.

You weren't sure what you were expecting upon meeting him. It wasn't like there would be any special introduction, or even as if you were his sole manager; no, he actually had a few others who would occasionally aid him in the absence of his main manager, which was now you. Today was a workday for him, meaning that he likely already had a few people in supportive roles as he did whatever it was that Jeon Jungkook did while working.

Walking into the huge building, after getting lost a few times, you made your way to the seventh floor, which, as you'd been informed, had various rooms designated for photoshoots. That's where you'd find Jungkook for the first time, presumably having one of the many shoots scheduled for this week.

Having possession of his schedule made you realize how busy idol life was. Despite having no public schedules all this week, he had a packed itinerary, filled with either shoots or signings or producing sessions. You hadn't even met him yet, but you were already assured that he was overly hardworking – and you had maybe also stalked him online this past week.

It was very unlikely you'd even speak to him, seeing how busy he was. Your duty, after all, was just to be one of the many members of his team, taking care of any logistics as you went around with him, but not taking away from his time by socializing with him.

Upon entering the room, he was the first thing you noticed. Ignoring every other person working the room, your eyes focused specifically on him. It was hard not to, since he was quite literally standing under the spotlight, modeling for a camera. But it was more than that. He had an aura that filled up the room. Putting aside every stylist and photographer in the room, every staff member and intern, he was truly the epitome of main character.

Fuck. Was this going to cause trouble?

....

you can check it out today on my ko-fi or patreon by subscribing to either one!

[jgracie]

SO HIGH SCHOOL! ⊹ ࣪ ˖

an american footballer!jason grace x fem!reader smau/fic series part of the chronicles of jj & smartiepants! letter from cynthia: hi guys this was my little surprise its been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS now but im ready to share it w u all 😚 i hope u love it as much as i do & thank u for 750 followers!

“what exactly do you need tutoring for? because you seem to have the entire syllabus memorised” “uh… did i say biology? sorry, i meant english lit”

after going through the worst experience of his life, jason makes a vow to himself: to not fall in love with another girl for the rest of his high school career. should be easy, right? its not like the most perfect, smart, captivating, bubbly girl is convinced her dream guy is waiting for her in sunny california…

ALTERNATIVELY . . . in which no one's ever had me, not like you

jj's gang | smartiepants & co feel free to send an ask if you'd like to be added to the taglist! ( tagging from @pjacksie ) | series tag: #so high school ⊹ ࣪ ˖

CHAPTERS

prologue: a town you're just a guest in ౨ৎ if you told yourself a year ago that you chose to leave new york, she would've laughed in your face. however, with the gold and glamour of the city finally beginning to tarnish, and your friendship with a boy you thought was going to be in your life forever nearing its end, there was nothing you needed more than a fresh start

i. is it over now? ౨ৎ jason grace was everything the average high school boy wanted to be: smart, handsome, athletic and dating the prettiest girl in the school. for the first time in a long time, he was content with how his life was going. unfortunately, jason forgot that lady aphrodite rarely ever seemed to be on his side

ii. fresh page on the desk ౨ৎ summary coming soon...

iii. the new girl ౨ৎ summary coming soon...

iv. meet me in the pouring rain ౨ৎ summary coming soon...

stay tuned for more chapters!

[imaginesbymk]

*that tiktok sound* hey!!….. hey…….. how y’all doing………..

i have a lot to say but lemme start off by saying i am SOOOOOooOoOoO sorry for ghosting this blog for a year. same thing’s been happening with wattpad. i ghosted 2 fics on there. and that includes my original dystopian scifi novel that has been in self development hell (as i like to call it)

my only explanation is that i grew unmotivated and grew out of writing fics. it came to a point where im just maladaptive daydreaming, the maladaptive daydreaming takes over and it doesnt let me actually create anything. the other reason is timing. i worked my ass off and finally graduated college with a 4.0 GPA, i did more commercial modelling and runway for a university fashion show so i can build my portfolio, i work full time and my pay is big, i made more art in my sketchbook... basically i just lived my life outside of tumblr.

another thing, the giant elephant in the room, i met cameron monaghan and morena baccarin at fanexpo canada! cameron went through my sketchbook, signed my jerome/jeremiah fanart, and asked me if i was an art student. after i told him i was rejected twice, he looked through every single page in my sketchbook and told me, "aw. well, fuck 'em!" that "it looks like [you] don't need art school" after all. he saw my reservoir dogs acrylic portraits of mr. pink and mr. white and told me he used to watch that film almost 600-700 times when he was 12. he then took a pic of my Grace Van Dien fanart (when i met her in 2022 at fanexpo canada) and he told me he's gonna send it to her. i had no idea they even knew each other.

i couldn't afford a table selfie+autograph combo at morena's autograph sessions so i only paid for a selfie. i said "oi" and "obrigada" to morena before and after taking a selfie with her and she said thank you back with a big smile :D so fanexpo was surreal.

i've always wanted to meet cameron monaghan and after years of writing fanfic for jerome and jeremiah valeska and other gotham fandom character imagines, i *finally* got to meet him.

ive been thinking about coming back and writing again, not just tumblr but on wattpad and getting serious with my original scifi dystopian novel. there's so much that i wanna do in life other than become financially stable and become a successful petite model until i no longer look the part. its hard for me to write because i get so easily stumped. even when i create some ambiance and rewatch the fandom to get inspired, it just drops again. writing is hard. that is why i have respect for my mutuals and my favourite famous authors that got me to write when i was 12. (lol) and anyways, i made new friends and im the happiest ive ever been romantically that i dont need to *imagine* anything with a fandom character, i do it for those who imagine it themselves!

im so sad to come back here and see that a few of my mutuals are inactive or have deactivated. and i became like them and abandoned my work. to be fair, my writing isn't that good, and it still isn't, and if i get something written and published here or on wattpad on a professional hardcopy of my book, i won't believe that it's my best work - and i aced my creative writing elective in my program, so that's a bummer.

i think meeting cameron is giving me a nudge to get back to writing. it feels weird wanting to write jerome/jeremiah fanfic after interacting with the actor himself for less than 5mins of his time, and that he's a human being that experiences human stuff like we all do, the only difference is that he's famous. im not sure if it healed my parasocial mindset with my fave celebs. i do want to take my time and write *something*. i am not doing the requests that have been in my drafts and inbox for a year (sorry :O) im just gonna take my time and readjust and get something down.

<3 mad love to my mutuals @myriadimagines @spacetalbot @arrogant-sonofa-bitch @littlemissvincentvega @emcon-imagines @writerdream22 @jjsmaybank20 @witchthewriter @musicallisto @locke-writes @zodiyack @mahvericks @karasong @moonlit-imagines @randomfandomimagine + many more moots

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Phullo there, I’d like to ask you a question! I hope I won’t be such a bothersome.

So, I’m planning to write a story about Laughingstock and since I find your storytelling very pleasing I figured it’d be a great idea to ask for your advice about the writing!

My Idea in general for this story is just Howdy taking a day off from working in his bodega. And basically, he’ll be just wearing normal clothes.. shocking truly.

And thennn, Barnaby and Howdy accidentally stumbled into each other’s path. They later then of course had a very long conversation that lasted until evening maybe.

Of course there’ll be some fishy moments like them looking at each other with goggly eyes and other cheesy romantic nonsense- but it’s just mainly them having their usual conversation with a ‘couple’ of jokes here and there. It’s supposed to be a sweet memory for them to remember basically.

So, what I’m really trying to ask you for is- how the heck do you start a story exactly and not make it into just the dialogues? Like, I want my story to be kind of long but I’m afraid it’ll be just them, y’know, talking and I really don’t want it to be boring.. therefore, I really need your help.

I am so sorry if it’s such a bad timing considering the fact that you just had an interview which I am very proud for you for that! Even if it didn’t go as expected at least you did good half of it.

Soo, yeah! I’d very much appreciate your advice and I am sooo sorry that this was soo long!!! And again, a bad timing too.. but hey if you got any time, please consider answering. Thank you..

Also any response yet? On the interview of course.

hmmm... in my experience and Knowledge Accumulated Over The Years via reading And writing... the best place to start is to just drop in. no story introduction, no "it was a dark and stormy night", just Start. it sounds like your story begins with Howdy taking the day off, so maybe kick off with him getting ready / choosing an outfit, or w/ him reflexively almost opening the store before he stops and chides himself for almost forgetting that he's taking the day off

to combat the dialogue, maybe detail him leaving the bodega to go into the neighborhood. what does he see? hear? feel both physically and mentally? is there anyone else out and about? set the scene! ive been struggling with this too lately since i haven't seriously written in a while and i haven't been reading actual books

WHICH! IMPORTANT TANGENTS!! read well-written books, Not fanfic! im not saying dont read fanfic ever or i'd be the world's biggest hypocrite, but also read actual books. it's important to study how published authors write, how stories are structured, dialogue and action. because these books have more often then not gone through a Rigorous screening process. multiple drafts, beta readers, publishers reading it with great scrutiny before agreeing to publish - of course there are exceptions, but a lot of books are the highest quality they can be, and will outshine most fics. because, and i say all of this as good things, fics are unregulated. most dont have beta readers. a lot are from amateur authors new to the scene. there will be spelling mistakes, weird grammar & sentence structure, etc - most fics have Entirely different writing styles from each other. so if you only read fanfic, That is what your brain will learn, and it's gonna be harder for you to write. published books have less variation in styles, and the styles are subtler. there's less spelling mistakes if any, so your spelling will improve. your internal vocabulary will expand. even if you don't consciously study what you read, your brain will pick up on & internalize patterns, how action works, how dialogue works, how to structure a story, all that good stuff. if you want, i can recommend well-written books! i've been an avid reader since... like, ever. i've got recs galore! you can tell me your preferred genre & literary interest and i'll probably have something for you! and if you're not big on books, well... get out of your comfort zone lmao, books are fucking awesome and i guarantee there are plenty out there that you would love.

and when you're writing dialogue, intersperse it with little actions or the main povs' internal dialogue. if there's a natural lull in the conversation, explore that lull! what do the characters do in this moment? what's going on around them? sprinkle bits of setting in so that your reader knows where they are and what's going on.

plus, exploring the non-dialogue sections of your story can, and often will, spark inspiration in your brain for scenes and actions to fill out the story if you want it to be long (but also! if you just want to write the scene of their conversation, that's the beauty of fanfic - there's no requirements. do whatever you want lmao). when Howdy is going into town, maybe Wally calls him over for a quick pose - does Howdy say yes or no, and how does that decision change the story? maybe Julie invites him to join her in a game, or Eddie stops to talk to Howdy about him being out and about. maybe there are some complaints over the bodega not being open. what's the lead-up to Howdy and Barnaby running into each other? do they literally run into each other? what happens when they do? those are just a few possibilities of many!

remember, when you're writing, you're that story's god. you can do literally fucking anything. you decide what the characters do, where they go, what happens in their world. that mindset should help you bolster the plot instead of just "these two characters have a conversation", yk?

i hope this helps!

[swordsmans]

i really enjoy all of your works and so i have to ask, how do you write such long fics???? or do you have any writing advice at all?? i have a lot of trouble focusing on writing cause i can't seem to find a flow to it- it's so impressive to me reading all of your stuff cause of how well the story progresses in such a neat way!

aaaa hello!!! first of all ahhh thank you so much!!! ahh!!!! i'm so happy you enjoy my fics!!! that means so much to me ahshlkdhjfsd !!!!! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

as for writing advice... i dont know if i have anything specific, but some of the main things i do are 1) outline pretty much everything first before i start writing; i keep a big master doc with my outline + any ideas that may or may not make it into the story, and i dont start writing-writing until the outline part is complete. and...

2) i write out of order! i do something i call the spiderweb method, where i start with the climactic scene or somewhere in the middle and then work outward from there until i have the rough framework of a story, then i go back through and build on that skeleton... if that makes sense? someday ill sit down and explain properly how this works but basically!! yeah!! i never write in order! i just write what i feel like writing and then when my first draft is finished i go through from the beginning and clean everything up.

usually by the time i get back to the "first" scene i wrote, i change it entirely (its just a draft, after all), but ive always found it extremely helpful to know exactly where im going when i write things. if the "place i want to go" is already laid out, then working backwards through the "getting there" is much easier for me. even that isn't always in order--i tend to jump around a BUNCH!!! this is the main reason why i post stuff all at once instead of in chapters, heh. sometimes i write the very first scenes last!

i think struggling to find linear flow is a pretty common thing, especially when building mid-size or longer stories, which is why i tend to avoid it altogether during the writing process. its much easier for me (personally) to see the shape of a story when its in pieces, so i know exactly where to cut or where i need to fill in gaps!! and also... i think its just more fun in general to only write what you want when you feel like it, yknow? why torment myself trying to write X part because its "next" when today i really want to write Y part because im inspired, etc etc.

it doesnt work for everyone, obviously--and its definitely not a method you can do easily if you skip "step 1" (the outline part), but ive had good luck with it over the past few years and its made writing much more fun :3

[precious-little-scoundrel]

my dearest darlingest marina i need you to know you have broken me quite thoroughly and i might never ever forgive you for it as long as we both shall live ! ❣️

to clarify- ive been saving "let's fall out of love" to read later ever since you posted it cuz i didn't feel ready- didn't think i was emotionally stable enough to read it then. well, tonight ive been clearing out my list of unread fics from last year aND GODDAMN WAS I EVER RIGHT ABOUT THAT.!!!

started getting all weepy and shaky before that first courthouse bathroom conversation and i didn't ever stop 😭 sobbed so hard and for so long at the unfairness of it all (for both of them !) i gave myself an asthma attack and had to stop reading.. what really broke me was e's bittersweet and somewhat detached realization on the courthouse steps that all their kids had flocked to laney during the divorce. couldn't stop thinking abt how badly i would've wanted to tell jesse off for being sharp to his daddy, and the knowledge that elaine COULDN'T, that it wasn't quite over yet and she still had to save face for a bit longer despite how much it killed them both, despite being the only person who could truly understand just how deep elvis was hurting right then and having been the one who'd made a whole life out of loving him hard.......... the idea of him resigning himself to having lost that forever (false) and her having to go against everything in her nature to let him ache a while longer,, oh it just shattered my spirit to bits right then and there. oh god im gonna start crying again just thinking about how lonely they both made each other 💔💔💔

im literally inconsolable, even with the reasoning behind it/ knowing how it ends beforehand, and having those future timeline fics to fall back on did nOT SAVE ME like . dear GOD woman how is that even possible?!?? if i had any shred of humanity left in my body id wax poetic for three more paragraphs abt how that speaks to your truly absolutely outstanding talent as an author and worldbuilder, but alas i think i cried out everything that was keeping me sane sometime in the last half hour and now i have to go lie facedown on the floor in my hallway and die abt it all instead 👍 fantastic work as always i love all your work so much forever etc etc 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

ps: it took me the better part of an hour to type all this out since ive lost the water content of approxinately a small ocean w my tears and am doing physically poorly in response 🫠🫠 so thanks for ur patience in this trying time 😔🙏

I spun around in circles upon reading this like my poor coon dog when she had a stroke -jovially of course. Like this is the stuff every writer dreams of getting for feedback but holy smokes, your talent for screaming? Beyond my wildest dreams. I’ve always told you how much I appreciate your time and enthusiasm to tell your thoughts Mary Hope, and now is no exception. My babe and co-author @elvisabutler deserves the pleasure of reading what we’ve wrought, as well. I’ll be halving all your medical and psychiatric expenses with her. 😏

Tbh, despite knowing both imminent and longterm reconciliation was to happen after this segment, we were just as cut up about tearing them apart as you were to read it. In fact, it was worse than all the lead up fics where the passive aggressive accumulation of grievances came across as hurts but ultimately only aggravations. This is just…PAIN. Funny how what was untenable before a tragedy suddenly appears to have been idyllic after it. Anyways.

Thank you for reading, here’s some Kleenex, albuterol and do know the sequel to this divorce is in drafts, so not finished AT ALL but it is in the works.

Not that it’ll hurt much less than this one. 😈

[jynrso]

some of it remains (but your love is unmoved)

hey all! this is the fic that i've been working hard on over the past few weeks. it's the first fresh piece i've written in over a year – the oneshot i posted a few weeks ago ("not without me / not without you") had a rough draft and outline so i had a bit to go off. this was a completely new story and i didn't intend for it to be this long. . .13.5 and 6k words later, here we are! jyn's experiences are based on my own. i got a concussion about 3.5 years ago and i still get icepick headaches to this day (that i never got before). while i don't get migraines, they are pretty bad. when i was thinking to myself about jyn's role as a brawler, i figured she'd get hit in the head pretty often –– and from that, this fic was born. title from "as it was" by hozier read it on ao3!

Jyn Erso has always had a remarkably thick skull. 

Not in the sense that she isn’t intelligent. Rather, ever since she’d learned how to fight, she’d quickly found that she could bounce back from blows to the head quicker than her comrades. Hits that would render other Partisans unconscious usually only dazed her; if she got knocked down, she pushed herself back up in seconds, returning to the fight with her brutal efficiency hindered only slightly by slight dizziness and a burgeoning headache. 

As a brawler, with the reach of her truncheons keeping her in close contact with her targets, she’s more exposed than a long-distance soldier. Though her armor absorbs many of the hits she takes, by favoring hand-to-hand combat, it’s not uncommon for her skin to be littered with various bruises and abrasions from hits she’s doled out and ones she’s taken in return. Even with her gloves, her hands often take the brunt of the damage; out of every place on her body, her hands are the most heavily scarred. 

But despite her fighting prowess and experience on the battlefield, she’s had her fair share of close calls. Even she isn’t completely unaffected by someone slamming the butt of their blaster against her skull. The scar snaking up from the top of her forehead into her hairline speaks to that; a few years ago, she’d been hit so hard by a stormtrooper that it had not only knocked her out but also needed stitches –– ones she had to do herself without the credits for proper medical care. It had never healed right, the scar angry and raised to this day, but she’d escaped with her life . . . and only a few consequences. 

The chronic headaches ––  the bad ones –– had begun during her stint in an underground fighting ring, just after Saw abandoned her on Tamsye Prime. In an attempt to earn enough credits to survive, she’d played her strengths to her advantage and fought numerous other sentients for money. Though she’d won more fights than lost, her opponents usually got in a hit or two; and, with the lack of protective gear, the blows she’d taken had often been more debilitating, especially in the aftermath. 

But in the middle of a war, a headache here or there is hardly her biggest problem.  

It’s not like she’s bleeding out or has any open wounds. A stim shot usually takes care of the worst of the symptoms and dims them to a more manageable level. And when that doesn’t work, in the years after Saw, she’d hole up somewhere dark and quiet and ride it out for a few days by herself. With her high pain tolerance, she can push through just about anything, even if it means spending a few hours incapacitated. 

Her last . . . episode had been right after Scarif. She doesn’t remember much of what’d happened after Bodhi had picked her and Cassian up from the beach but she recalls moments of blinding pain. The agony from her burns from the blast had only just been overshadowed by the splitting in her skull, feeling as if someone had taken an axe and cleaved her in two. 

Ever since, however, she’s managed to keep her headaches under control and everyone else in the dark. But with the recent destruction of Alderaan and the move from Yavin IV to Hoth, it’s only a matter of time. With the amount of pressure and stress slowly building up on her shoulders, she just hopes that she’s alone when the inevitable happens, and strong enough to ride out the pain when it comes.

When Jyn wakes, unusually bleary-eyed and out of it, Cassian’s no longer in bed next to her.

The sheets on his side have long gone cold. Faintly, in the back of her mind, she remembers him leaving earlier that morning; before his departure, he’d briefly woken her up with a kiss on the forehead and a whispered urge to go back to sleep. Not recalling much more than that, she assumes that she’d fallen back asleep and pushes herself up into a sitting position. 

As soon as she moves, a slow, heavy ache makes itself known in her left eye, radiating back toward her skull. She curses softly, rubbing her forehead with the palm of her hand, hoping that the pressure will help ease the oncoming pain, but to no avail. Even when she presses harder, digs her fingers into her hairline, the steady throbbing beats in time with her heartbeat. 

A pit sinks in her stomach. She worries her bottom lip between her teeth, the pain of it a distraction. Even though her head doesn’t pound badly now, she knows from experience it’ll only get worse as the day goes on. And if this is one of those headaches. . .

Fuck, and she actually has shit to do today. She and Cassian are flying out in the afternoon for a surveillance and scouting operation at the abandoned rebel base on Dantooine. Bodhi’s swinging by later ––  shit, maybe sooner than she thinks, glancing at the chrono and seeing what time it is –– to help her get the ship ready while Cassian takes care of the pre-flight briefing with Draven. 

Okay. Okay. She exhales, throwing her arm over her eyes as she lays on her back in the messy remnants of their bunk. It’s not the ideal situation but it could be worse –– she just has to get out of bed and get ready while her pain is still manageable. Then she just has to meet Bodhi, get to the ship, and take off for Dantooine without indicating something is wrong, then find somewhere hidden and quiet to ride it out by herself. 

(There’s no way in hell Cassian is going to let her get away with that, a small voice in the back of her mind reminds her but she pushes that thought away for now. Once they get into the air, she can figure out an excuse. She just has to get there first. )

Groaning, Jyn hauls herself out of bed, wincing when the simple movement jars her already tender head. Without bothering to flip on the lip, she fumbles around in the dark, picking up random pieces of clothing they’d scattered across the ground the night before. 

In the bathroom, biting back a curse as the cold finally begins to hit her, the warmth of sleep finally wearing off, she quickly gets ready in the relative silence and dimness of the ‘fresher. 

There’s a basic medkit under the sink, equipped with bandages, a few bacta patches, and hyposprays. It’s meant for the occasions when either of them has minor injuries but doesn’t want to go to the medbay. Though it’s here for this purpose –– and she knows she should grab something –– she still hesitates. It’s not that bad (yet) and she’s pushed through worse. And there’ll be times in the future when they have a greater need for these supplies. . .

With her thoughts feeling like static, it’s difficult to concentrate enough to make a proper decision. Before she can, someone knocks on the door and shakes her from her daze. She flinches at the sound, wiping a shaky hand down her face as her head protests the sudden loud noise. 

“Fuck,” she mutters, rocking forward on her heels and leaning forward against the sink, so far that her forehead nearly touches the smudged mirror. The medkit looms in her peripherals but she ignores it, convincing herself that she’ll be fine. (She’s always fine –– she has to be ). 

In a burst of strength, she pushes up and away out of the bathroom, heading toward the door. 

“Jyn!” Bodhi brightens when it opens, then almost immediately falls when he looks at her properly. “You –– you look like shit!”  

“Thanks, Bo,” she mutters, leaning against the doorframe as she pulls on her boots. “Good morning to you, too.” 

Frowning, he rubs the back of his neck as he peers in closer, head dipping down and wide eyes scrutinizing her disheveled appearance. “Well, it’s actually closer to afternoon, now, but –– ” 

“Still morning,” she grunts, straightening. The edge of her vision goes fuzzy for a few seconds, threatening to white out completely; she steadies herself on the wall once again and exhales heavily, then forces herself upright.

“Do you –– do you need to go to the –– ” 

“No,” she bites out forcefully. Her voice harsher is than she intends but the pain makes her feel brittle, fragile even, and she can’t help but overcompensate. “Just –– I just had a bit too much to drink last night. That’s all.”  

Both of them are keenly aware of just how well she holds her liquor and Bodhi is much more observant than people give him credit for, especially around the people he cares about. He frowns, eyebrows tugging together, and while his expression tells her exactly what he’s thinking, he’s also picking up on the hidden details in her own. 

But for whatever reason, either her voice or the stubborn look in her eyes, he doesn’t comment on her flimsy excuse and nods instead, perhaps not wanting to put up a fight when it’s clear she’s looking for one. 

She doesn’t miss the concerned look in his eye when she walks out of the room a little slower than usual. He stays close to her as if expecting to catch her if she falls, arms nearly brushing as he keeps her pace. 

His intense attention makes her uncomfortable, her ears reddening from the unfamiliar notion of having someone care about her. She’s fine. A headache isn’t anything to make a fuss over, and really, he’s making a big deal out of nothing.  

“I checked out the ship you’re taking this morning,” he says, keeping up a steady stream of chatter as they navigate through the halls of Echo Base. She only half-listens, occasionally offering up hums of agreement as he speaks, but it’s growing more difficult to keep her focus solely on him. “There isn’t too much to do but . . .”

After a few minutes, they reach their destination. When the noise and brightness of the hangar bay hall hit her full force, Jyn sways on her feet, eyes closing as nausea swells low in her stomach. Bodhi grabs her elbow to keep her steady but she just barely feels the touch, the hammering in her head overshadowing every other sensation. 

“ ––yn! Are you okay?” 

Bodhi’s voice grows louder and more nervous with each passing second she fails to reply. Jyn barely manages to clamp down on her flinch, forcing her eyes open and gritting her teeth as her head protests. 

“Fine,” she rasps, then licks her dry lips. Just one more hour, at most, and she can lie down; she just has to get to the ship first. “I’m fine. Where –– where’s the shuttle?” 

He pauses, scrutinizing her once again. “Listen, if you’re not feeling well, we can––” 

“I said I’m fine!” she reasserts, a bit harsher than she intends. Her head throbs at the raised tone of her voice. She sighs. “Look, can we just –– ” 

It’s clear he doesn’t entirely believe her. With all the time they’ve spent together since Scarif, he knows what her normal behavior looks like –– and this isn’t it. “Jyn, you really should –– ” 

Her eyes flash in irritation. She doesn’t need to be coddled. “If you want to stay here, be my guest. But I’m going to finish up packing the ship.” 

Once again, he must see something in her face that ends any possible argument. For him, this is a losing battle. Sighing, his shoulders slump in the face of her stubbornness. “All right. Come on.” 

Leading her to a ship in the back of the hangar, she focuses on putting one foot in front of the other and pushing down the pain as best she can. No matter how lightly she steps, the impact of her boots against the ground sends electricity radiating up from her legs to her head, a dull thumping that seems to grow the longer she spends in the hangar bay. 

She blinks and then they’re there. Almost robotically, she nods as Bodhi’s mouth opens and he begins to talk, only catching the tail end of whatever he says. He gestures toward the remaining crates of supplies that need to be loaded onto the shuttle and Jyn doesn’t bother to respond, turning toward them and setting her shoulders in preparation. 

(With her back turned, she misses how his mouth thins, how he reaches out for her but drops his arm after a few seconds. She misses the determined set of his eyes, the way he seemingly comes to a decision before setting to work himself.)

It’s easy to lose herself in the repetitiveness of the task. With only the pain in her head to keep her company, she tunes out the rest of the hangar bay and loads up the ship. At least in there, the lights aren’t so bright and the noises around her are muffled some by the thick durasteel walls. 

A blink and it’s done. It’s been –– how long has she been doing this, so lost in her head? 

For a few seconds, she stands in the cargo bay and looks down at the crates without really seeing them. Her hands flex at her sides, fingers still primed to hold a box. But then a particularly painful jolt of pain goes through her eye and she hisses, pressing the palm of her hand against the socket. When it eases, her brain recircuits and she remembers her purpose, rocking back on her heels. 

She turns to look for Bodhi, not finding him in the cockpit as expected. Instead, when she heads down the loading ramp to look for him, she sees him a few feet away, looking in her direction and talking in hushed voices with Cassian. 

Jyn scowls in irritation, hands curling into fists at her side and marching over to them. She has a good idea of what Bodhi’s telling him –– that she’s been acting weird, that there’s something wrong with her, that she isn’t capable enough to go on the mission. All those thoughts jumble in her head at the same, overlapping and intensifying what’s already there. 

“I’m fine!” she barks when she makes it over to them, putting her hands on her hips and tilting her chin up in defiance. Her jaw tightens, the muscles in her body bunching up and tensing. “I don’t know what he’s telling you but –– ” 

Cassian holds up his hands and Bodhi takes a step back when faced with her sudden burst of rage. “We’re just going over take-off protocol since Bodhi isn’t coming with us on this one,” he explains gently. 

Her anger deflates from her as quickly as it’d arrived and she closes her eyes briefly as her skull throbs in protest. Embarrassment at her outburst curls low in her gut but she refuses to let it show. 

“Great,” she mutters, shoving her hands deep in her pockets and turning away from them. Her cheeks redden, ears burning beneath her hat. “I’ll be on the ship if you need me.” 

If her behavior hadn’t been a cause for concern before, it certainly is now. She hunches in her coat, keeping her head down as she stalks to the shuttle, the snarl on her lips acting as armor to repel any stares from overly curious recruits that she gets on the way back. 

Cassian isn’t far behind. She’s only been on the ship for a few beats before he joins her, standing close enough that there are only a few inches between them. When she looks back into the hangar bay, Bodhi’s still there, his body language anxious and worried in the distance. 

She scowls, feeling betrayed and like they’re ganging up on her. She’s clearly fine –– she’d gotten everything on the ship quickly and efficiently. What complaints could they even have? When she turns away, she determinedly keeps her gaze focused on her datapad and makes a point not to look at Cassian, even when his presence 

Finally, he breaks the stalemate, not bothering to pretend he doesn’t know something is wrong. “Bodhi says you’ve been off all morning.” 

“Did he,” she says flatly, her eye twitching. Her mouth twists and she resolutely stares down at the datapad but not truly seeing the words on the screen. 

“I’m not going to push you,” he replies steadily, his voice not changing despite the derision in hers. There’s no judgment, nothing but concern despite her growing frustration. ( Stars, she doesn’t deserve him. ) “But if something’s wrong, you can tell me.” 

If he hasn’t picked up on it, then she must be successfully hiding the worst of her pain. When she turns to face him, she lets a little bit of her raggedness show, exhaustion written on her features. It’s not a lie, not truly, but a misdirection instead. Let him think this is the root of the issue. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.” 

One of his eyebrows ticks up, likely remembering how she’d barely moved when he’d left their bed that morning. He doesn’t believe her, not entirely. But whatever he must see in her face must be enough to convince him that she’s all right for now. 

He nods slowly, brows tugging together as he considers her words, but doesn’t drop the matter entirely. “You can sleep once we make it to hyperspace.” 

It feels like an order rather than a request but she knows the decision is ultimately up to her. Too exhausted to disagree, the throbbing pain on one side of her head sapping all of the fight out of her body. 

Cassian hesitates, giving her a chance to pull away, then reaches out to cup her cheek. She closes her eyes when his thumb brushes against her cheekbone rhythmically; it doesn’t relieve any pain but his touch soothes her, comforts her in a way that only he can do. 

“Let’s finish getting the ship ready,” he says softly, and, eyes still closed, she nods once again. 

It doesn’t take long for them to finish; apparently, Bodhi had gotten more done than she’d realized while she’d lugged crates of supplies back and forth. Feeling almost as if in a trance with only a dull throbbing pain to keep her company, before she even realizes it, they’ve completed everything else and prepped the shuttle for take-off.  

(Dangerous, Saw’s voice barks in her head when she blinks in confusion, her body acting on auto-pilot as she buckles herself in and mechanically pulls on a pair of headphones. Just because you’re with someone you trust doesn’t mean you’re safe. Focus, my child.)

With one last wave to Bodhi, she closes the cargo bay door without another word and joins Cassian in the cockpit. Her limbs feel heavy, eyes squinting against the bright lights flashing on the dashboard. It takes her more than one try to get her seatbelt buckled in. 

Numbly, she forces her awareness out of the cave in her mind and does her best to pay attention when Cassian completes the pre-flight checks. It only takes a few minutes ––  she thinks, her thoughts feeling as if they’re moving through sludge –– before they’re up in the air. 

“Calculating jump to hyperspace,” he says. She clenches her jaw, nods, and prepares herself. 

The jump to hyperspace is worse than she’d expected. She presses the back of her head into her seat in an attempt to keep it steady and her white-knuckled hand gripping the armrests so tight she shakes. Against the roar of the engine, she inhales and exhales short puffs of air, eyes squeezed tight. It feels as if her brain is rattling against her skull, sharp pinpricks of pain hitting her through the eye in full force. 

One particularly bad pulse through her head has her biting down so hard on her tongue that she draws blood. The sharp sting at least provides a distraction, the coppery, metallic taste now filling her mouth becoming something to latch on to other than pain. 

But it’s getting more and more difficult to keep herself together. The combination of the lights, the noise, and the jerky movements of the shuttle around her have flayed her control almost entirely. She can’t do this, she can’t do this, but she has to, she has to keep it together for just a few more secon––

The ship stills. 

The only sound in the cockpit is her sharp, rapid breathing that she struggles to quiet and the hum of the engine underneath her feet. Though she can’t see him, she’s acutely aware of Cassian at her side. She hears him take off his headset and set it down on its hook above the dashboard, then hears the creak of his seat as he turns, presumably to face her properly. 

Hears the low, comforting sound of his voice when he tentatively asks, “Jyn? Are you okay?” 

“`m’fine,” she mumbles after a beat, her brain taking longer than usual to comprehend his words properly. Even though it’s very clear that she’s not, she can’t quite abandon the ruse just yet, still hanging onto rapidly disappearing threads of composure. “Just. . .” 

She trails off, swallowing down a wave of nausea. In the silence that follows, her stomach churns, due both to anxiety and her migraine; if she moves, even slightly, she’s going to throw up all over the floor. To tamp down on that, she focuses on her breathing: ragged inhales that catch before they make it to her lungs. 

Cautiously, she cracks her eyes open, just a slit, to see Cassian leaning forward in his seat, gaze tight with worry. His fists are curled against his knees, his body tense with the effort of not reaching out to her. She imagines he wants to check her over himself and see what’s causing her pain but not without her permission. 

“Are you hurt?” he asks. She can hear the desperation in his voice, likely compounded by the fact that he hadn’t pushed her to tell him what’d been wrong earlier. “Jyn, please. Did someone hurt you? Are you––” 

“Fine,” she cuts him off weakly, ignoring his growl of frustration at her protests. He’d reluctantly taken her by her word earlier but that’s not going to work anymore. The ruse is up; it’s so incredibly clear that she isn’t fine, the jump to hyperspace having rattled something loose in her brain. “It’s. . .” 

She pauses, licks her lips, then decides ––  what the hell. She can’t physically keep her walls up much longer. Her eyes flutter close, the pressure in her head abating only slightly with the lack of light. Finally, she says, “My head.” 

“Did you fall? Jyn, let me check––” 

“No,” she swallows, fumbling with her words. Her tongue feels heavy in her mouth, her thoughts slow and sluggish. “It’s –– it’s a migraine. I think. I, um, get them. Occasionally.” 

When Cassian doesn’t reply, she opens her eyes to see what he’s doing, feeling nervous and exposed. She watches as he gingerly stands and reaches over her, flicking off the lights in the cockpit and dimming the space as much as possible. While it isn’t completely dark, with switches on the dashboard still blinking, it’s a marked difference from how bright it’d been before. Her breath leaves her in a stuttered exhale as her shoulders relax slightly. 

His voice is quiet when he asks, “Better?” 

“Yeah,” she rasps. It is. “Thanks.” 

A beat of silence passes between them before he tilts his head to the side, in the direction of the back of the ship. Though it isn’t large and not meant for long-term travel, there’s a small bunk room and galley just behind the crew’s quarters. Though he doesn’t say anything, Jyn knows what he’s asking. 

“No,” she grits out. She keeps her head still but follows him with her gaze. It’s a struggle to get the words out. “I don’t . . . need to rest.” 

“Jyn. . .” 

“No.” It feels like her last line of defense. It’s a stupid hill to die on but she can’t seem to let it go, barely clinging to what little she has left. Even though she knows that Cassian would never treat her differently  –– and he never has when she’s come to him injured or in the aftermath of a nightmare –– she’s not unlike a feral animal when hurting, flinching away and attacking the hand that tries to help.

He’s seen her at her worst, has held her through it, has seen more of her than anyone in this galaxy ever has. But used to a lifetime of sharing a bunk and never truly being alone, she’s learned to keep her pain quiet, to remain small and unobtrusive in moments of true vulnerability. Cassian and the rest of Rogue One have slowly broken down some of her walls but there are some things she doubts she’ll ever be able to shake fully.

But then Cassian whips out his trump card. 

“Please, Jyn? For me?” And if his saying please hadn’t been enough, he adds softly, “My back has been sore all morning. Lay down with me?”

“Just for an hour,” she relents ––  barely. “And you have to actually lay next to me.” 

His eyes soften. “`course. Come on.” 

She stands slowly to try and offset the dizziness that she knows will come, but it doesn’t work. She bites the inside of her cheeks and closes her eyes when it washes over her, her head throbbing in time with her heartbeat. For a few seconds, she worries once again she might throw up all over the ground but swallows it down. Fuck, it hurts so badly. 

There’s this urgent, wild urge in the back of her mind to cry out for her mother –– she feels like a child again, scared and in pain, and wanting nothing more than Lyra’s comfort. 

Finally, when it passes, she opens her eyes again, breathing heavily. Cassian stands a few feet away, one arm outstretched in case he needs to steady her. He’s not even trying to hide his worry anymore; she’d reassure him in any other situation but she’s just so tired. 

Slowly, she makes her way to the bunkroom with Cassian close behind. It’s not far, and soon, she’s perched on the edge of the small cot, shoulders hunched forward. 

He reaches out and touches her arm gently. That one small gesture eases a knot of tension in her body and she sags like a puppet whose strings have been cut. “I’m going to grab you some water. I’ll be right back, okay?” 

Feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable, she doesn’t like the idea of him leaving her sight right now. But at the thought of water, she swallows, her throat dry. Slowly, she nods, her head heavy and protesting the jerky movement. 

She keeps quiet and doesn’t move until he returns with a glass of water in hand. Despite the position likely being hell on his back, he crouches next to the bed, offering it to her. 

Silently, she reaches for it with a shaky arm, just barely managing to take a few sips without spilling before handing it back to him. He takes it, but not without a small sigh and a look of concern. 

“You need to stay hydrated.” As quiet as it is, his voice is still too loud. 

Not having eaten anything all day, she’s keenly aware of the hunger and thirst steadily growing in her stomach. But it’s no match for the pain in her head and she doesn’t think she’ll be able to keep anything more than water down if she tries. “No,” she manages. But then, to appease him, she adds, “Later.” 

“All right,” he says finally, setting the glass on the small desk a few paces away. A pause. He shifts on his feet, and she’s just about to order him to move from his uncomfortable position when he speaks again, “I grabbed a hypospray. It’s yours if you want it.” 

There’s a protest on her lips that dies when he interrupts, anticipating what she’d planned on saying, “We have more than enough supplies. It won’t be missed.” 

Jyn licks her lips, then dips her chin in a slow nod. 

Cassian’s jaw works briefly, clenching and unclenching before his expression finally smoothes. He knows her better than she knows herself, she thinks –– and they both know how stubborn she can get about soldiering through her pain until the last possible moment. For her to give in now without too much complaint tells him exactly how bad her pain is, what she’d been trying to hide from him all day. 

Without a word, he waits until he catches her half-squinted gaze before slowly bringing the hypospray to her neck. She tilts her chin to the side slightly and closes her eyes; her breath stutters in her lungs when his warm hands brush against her skin, looking for the artery. 

“Dispensing now,” he murmurs and she doesn’t have the energy to hide her flinch when the cold medicine enters her bloodstream. 

The small, barely there movements of her body send shockwaves of pain through one side of her skull. Her whole body tenses, muscles rigid. She keeps her eyes squeezed to better ride out the wave washing over her, ebbing and throbbing; even as she feels the hypospray beginning to take effect, it isn’t immediate. 

Now that she’s sitting, with no more tasks left to complete, she properly takes stock of her pain, it feels as if someone is repeatedly taking an ice pick to her head, stabbing her eye socket with each throbbing beat of her pulse. Before she can stop it, a small whimper leaves her mouth before she presses her lips tightly together so no other sounds can escape. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he says softly. She feels him brush her cheek with his fingers lightly, then moves some of her hair off of her face. “You don’t have to hide from me, Jyn. What do you need?” 

She doesn’t have to do much to convey it. Without speaking and moving as little as possible, she finds his arm in the dark and pulls him toward her. Gingerly, Cassian stands –– she can hear his joints popping as he does so –– and maneuvers himself over her and onto the cot. 

He settles stiffly next to her with his back to the wall; at first, he doesn’t move, likely not wanting to cause her any more pain. But as soon as she feels him at her side, she reaches for him immediately. He is, as always, a lifeline for her, an anchor in the middle of the storm. She turns onto her side, curling into him, desperate for some sort of comfort, a distraction from the pain, if only for a few seconds. And even though it must be hell on his back for him to curl over her like this, he does so, anyway, his body a shield between her and the outside world. 

Forehead pressed against his neck, her fists gripping his shirt with a white-knuckled grip, he quietly murmurs nonsense into her ear. All she can do is cling to him in a moment of uncharacteristic weakness strength and breathes. 

Hours later, Jyn opens her eyes, slowly waking up. She doesn’t remember falling asleep but the combination of Cassian’s presence and the hypospray’s effect eventually lulled her to unconsciousness. She blinks once, twice, feeling a hundred times lighter than she had earlier; the pain in her head has abated to a manageable ache –– still there but not as debilitating. 

She tilts her head upward, the tip of her nose brushing against Cassian’s face. He’s in the same position as he’d been in before, curled around her protectively. Still asleep, his face is relaxed, his breathing slow and even. 

As much as he needs the sleep, she’s unable to resist her next impulse; she tilts her chin slightly, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his mouth. It’s short and sweet, lasting only a few seconds; and even though it’s a selfish want, her heart skips a beat in her chest when his eyes open, warm and brown, blinking down at her. 

It’s a testament to how much he trusts her that he doesn’t tense upon awakening. Rather, his expression warms, mouth tugging into an indulgent smile. “Hi,” he murmurs, voice rasping. 

“Hi,” she repeats, her smile a mirror of his. When he moves to brush his lips against hers again, she meets him eagerly, basking in the afterglow of the morning and the relaxed feeling that only sleep can bring. 

“How are you feeling?” 

She hums. “Better.” 

“Good.” His arms tighten around her, firm but loose enough that she can pull away. She doesn’t. “You scared me, you know.” 

She stays silent as he continues. “When Bodhi told me he didn’t think you were feeling well, I didn’t think it was that bad, not when you marched over to us a minute later. But then, after we jumped. . .” he closes his eyes briefly, licking his chapped lips. She wants to smooth the wrinkle between his brows with her thumb. “I thought you would have told me that it was that bad.” 

Is that disappointment in his voice? Shame curls in her gut. Had their positions been flipped, she would have felt just as helpless. “I know. I should have.” 

“Why didn’t you?” An open question. If he’s judging her for it, he keeps that out of his voice. 

“I don’t know,” she says finally. “It’s. . .It’s not that I don’t trust you, because I do, but. . .” she shrugs with a shoulder as best she can while lying on her side. “Just habit, I guess.” 

A habit formed after years of being alone, exacerbated due to Saw’s abandonment and how quickly her ties to the Partisans –– her foundation of self, her family –– had been ripped out from underneath her. It had been necessary to hide the vulnerable sides of herself for survival, instincts that she hasn’t quite shaken now that she once again has a team she can rely on. 

He licks his chapped lips. “Have you . . . seen someone about this? A medic?” 

“Once.” After her symptoms had lingered long after a particularly bad head injury, Saw had forced her (not that she had much choice with how sick she’d been) to see one of the Partisan’s medics. “With how many concussions I get, this sort of thing. . .happens, they said.” 

Cassian hums. “Will you see one of the Alliance’s medics when we get back?” 

“I don’t think there’s anything they can do,” she argues. She can handle it –– not to mention that, with how many injuries those doctors have to deal with on a daily basis, she’d just be wasting their time. 

He stays silent but the look in his eyes tells her he doesn’t like her answer. “There might be medicine that could help.” 

“The hypospray worked well enough,” she retorts grouchily, cuddling closer to him so she no longer has to meet his gaze. His heartbeat beats a steady tempo against her cheek. 

He brushes her bangs back behind her ears, his hand lingering on the side of her face. Perhaps reassuring himself that she’s still in one piece, that she’s no longer in as much pain as before. “To prevent this sort of thing from happening so often.” 

She scowls. “It doesn’t happen that often.” 

“Jyn. . .” he sighs. “What happens if we’re out on a mission and you’re like this? If –– if something happened to you, I couldn’t. . .” His jaw clenches, eyes flashing at the thought of the hypothetical. 

Knowing he’s right –– it has happened out in the field but never to this degree –– she stays silent. 

“Let’s make a deal, all right?” She remains quiet, listening. He continues, “You go to the medbay when we get back, see what they can do. I’ll come with you. And then, in return, when my back is bothering me, I’ll go. But we tell each other, all right? When we’re hurting. Trust goes both ways, remember?” 

“Trust goes both ways,” she echoes softly, tipping her head back from his chest and onto the pillow so she can better look at his face. Her headache has been subdued to a dull throbbing, a far cry from the agony she’d felt earlier. “You promise you’ll go?” 

“If you do, I will,” Cassian says. “And you’ll tell me next time your head hurts, yes?” 

“Fine,” she concedes with a grumble, though her displeasure fades when he gathers her back up in his arms and kisses her forehead gently. Her breath hitches at the feeling of his lips against her skin. 

“We have a few more hours before we reach Dantooine,” he tells her softly. “We should get up, grab some food. When’s the last time you ate?” 

Even though she hasn’t eaten anything all day, the remnants of nausea still remain in her system. She makes a face, wrinkling her nose at the thought of leaving the bed and Cassian’s embrace. 

“You said your back was sore,” she says instead. Regardless if it had only been a ploy to get her to bed, his back bothers him more often than not. It won’t hurt to rest a little more, especially not when they’ll be in hyperspace for a while still. “Lay here with me?” 

The corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles down at her. It’s the type of true smile she so very rarely sees outside of when they’re alone together, the one that never fails to make her heart swell in her chest with a type of love she’d never thought she’d ever feel. “Always.” 

[ashtraythief]

Hey! So ive been a long time reader of ur underneath verse (since like.. 2018? Maybe even 2017?) and i just wanted to drop by and tell u how much im enjoying rereading ur writing! Like in general i think this is one of my fav fics series just bc its so extensive and well done and thought out and fleshed out so well it works so well? Like seeing all the different angles and the way u choose to frame things is really fun for me and kinda inspires my own writing in some aspects.

Ive never read the whole thing all in one go before so ive decided to do that right now and im just about done with the pied pipers song - more specifically willys chapter. And i kinda needed to let u know that ur series really stands out to me just bc of how many glimpses into other characters and all these different povs of the same thing like on it stands out on a technical level but then ur actual writing of these things is so good and compelling and like as an outsider pov bitch it hits the spot for me so well? Like ur writing is never stale and its always interesting.

I specifically wanted to take this time to mention that i really love willy and winstons characters and how u went about it. Like im ngl the way u wrote them kinda makes me want to cry tears of happiness for them bc they have found ppl who appreciate them and they have connections with other ppl but then the bittersweet tang of jensen and willy is kinda fucking me up rn /pos djjdjdjd like in general u really do the bittersweet jensen is stuck undercover angle really well and it HURTS so good

But yes i dont really have a good concise message or comment to leave beyond the fact that i keep stopping every few sentences to get up and jump bc im so excited about what im reading i need to get rid of that excess energy lol so sorry if this is all over the place and a really messy message! I just really wanted to let u know how much im enjoying reading it all rn. Thank you so much for sharing ur writing with us and for continuing to write for this series its so fun!

omg nonnie, I'm kinda speechless here (this is the second wonderful message in two days so I'm kinda overwhelmed. is it send wonderful messages week somewhere??)

I just am so grateful and this message made me so happy. never apologize for maybe not having a five point outline lol, this is amazing.

The underneath verse has always been my fandom baby, so praise for it is already amazing, but the pied piper fic and Winston and Willy epsecially, it just makes my heart so full. Ten years ago, they definitely started out as stock characters of mob drivers, because I didn't think this fic would get so big, but then it did, and Willy especially became a real character. a) because I knew he'd fall in love with Jensen too, as anyone does really and b) because I looooove the bittersweet undercover Jensen shtick where I write from other character's POV and the reader knows how wrong they're getting it but they don't *mu har har* (yeah I'm a little mean sometime. sorry?)

but in all seriousness, the Willy chapter, I'ev been working on that for months. And I kept adding things and rewriting things and trying to get it perfect even though I know that most people who read the story mostly care about Jared and Jensen (which is totally fair and understandable), but I care about him and there are a few people out there who do too (and I love you for it, so much), but with Willy, I just wante to do this /right/. I've come to love him so much, and he's come to be so important to Jensen, it felt like he and Winston really deserve their own story told even though that's kind of ridiculous because they're not real, but they're a little real to me now. All this to say, nonnie, this comment and your appreciation of Willy means so fucking much to me. And my poor alpha reader who read like four drafts of this (seriously, M. is a saint) and my beta readers who then had to beta four iterations of this. To know that this effort is appreciated this much honestly make me cry a little (I am not having the greatest time right now, so I cry easily but the point still stands. Thank you.)

This message was actually such an energy boost I'm currently trying to fix the next timestamp, lol so I'll have something to post next month. You're a true treasure, nonnie <3

[a-soft-hornytiny]

Competition of hearts.

Summary: Working together with a competitor in a competition sounded like nonsense to you. Why should you risk losing your perfect score? At least that's what you thought before a tall golden boy made his way into your heart.

Word count: 4.5k+

Genre: Not sure tbh slight hurt comfort, mostly fluff, a bit suggestive in the middle haha

Pairing: Yunho x neutral!reader

Warnings: y/n's actions can be a bit annoying, making out, light fighting, a lot of nonsense (let me know if i missed something) be careful while reading.

Notes: ok wow, this is the longest story ive written on here. Half of it has been chilling in my drafts for like a year xD this is the story i published a teaser for ages ago and i finally had the motivation to finish it! I hope yall like it. Im not sure with it because long fics are not my specialty haha

Taglist: after the cut (let me know if you wanna be added)

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Dance was your dream. There was nothing you loved more than giving in to the rhythm and letting your body move along the beat. And there has never been something you wanted to do more.

So when all of your school friends decided to go to university, you went your own way. 

Yes sure, you could’ve studied dance. You could’ve gone to college. But you had enough of school and learning and exams and all of that stuff. 

And after running around and auditioning for all kinds of dance academies and dance studios, you got street casted through one of your free shows. It was nothing big. You always wandered around, a speaker in your pocket, settled down in a random place and started to dance. 

It was simple and you wanted nothing for it. 

But it eventually got you a step closer to your dream.

Ever since you were small, you participated in competitions. You loved being seen. Loved being in the spotlight. The applause made your heart beat faster and completely filled you with euphoria. 

And that was how you earned your first money. The first rewards and prices were small, fit for kids and teens, but the older you got, the bigger the prizes for winning were. And after leaving school, you did nothing but train, work part-time and fight for 1st place. 

But at one point you slowly realised that you needed a sponsor to get into better competitions. They didn’t accept you anymore and you couldn’t even pay the entry fees. And that was hard because you had tried getting into academies and other dance focused companies. But you were rejected.

Until that one day this lady came up to you after you finished your street-performance, handing you her card and telling you that you should call her. Which you did. 

“What do you mean “collaboration”? Where is the competition if you have to work together?” You croaked after hearing the alighting news. 

About a week ago, you had entered a pretty anticipated competition which costed a lot of time and money to get into. Many famous dance academies and companies sent their best representatives to compete and you were one of them. 

Your company was by no means big or famous but when you told them about the competition and especially about the winning prizes, they helped you to get into it. And you did really well.

You passed the first four rounds at ease and you had to acknowledge that you weren’t the only one there that would deserve to win but you were confident in your skill and completed every stage with perfection. Because you danced alone. 

“It’s part of the competition! What do you wanna do? Leave?” Your manager and friend aka the lady that casted you on the street, bit back at you.

You had always danced alone. Even though you knew that collaborations were a thing and you would probably have to do one in the future you always avoided them and buried that thought deep inside. 

Being the perfectionist you were, you couldn’t handle it when anything was out of your control. Especially when it came to dance. You had control over your body. That was why you could go up on stage so confidently. Because everything that happens there would be in your control, and if you made a mistake, which you hardly did, that would be your own fault. 

“No of course not! But why are they doing this?! If they do it in pairs they would have two winners!” You knew that complaining wouldn’t change anything but you needed to let go of your anger while you were still coping with the idea of a collab inside of your head.

You would have at least appreciated some warning, some time to think about it. But instead they decided to inform you on the day you should be starting to work on your choreography. 

“‘Your partner will be here soon’ my ass!” You mocked the way your manager came in earlier. “A little more time for mental preparation maybe?!” You threw your water bottle against the wall as you were still raging about the fact that you’d have to work with someone else. 

It was not like you hated the idea. It was just too sudden. You loved to work with others, sharing your ideas and creating something beautiful but in a competition? And so suddenly? It was just a little overwhelming for you. To your demise, you heard a door open.

“Are you Y/n?” A soft voice appeared from above, making you look up from your feet. Your face was red and tears were burning in your eyes, not the nicest picture for the first meeting. 

“I’m Yunho! I will be your partner for the collaboration round. Nice to meet you!” 

You were a little perplexed when you looked at the tall man right in front of you. He had his arm stretched out to you and a big smile on his face.

“Yes I am.. Nice to meet you too.” You hesitated before straightening your body and shaking his hand. 

After letting go of his hand, you tried to fix yourself by redoing your hair and wiping your face. At least you didn’t want to look like you just had an existential crisis. 

“I saw your performances! They were amazing, you are so good! I’m glad I got you as my partner.” Yunho’s energetic voice made you cringe. You didn’t mean to be mean but you were really stressed and couldn’t really understand how someone could be so positive right now. 

“Thank you..” You replied, looking at your manager for help. But Yunho seemed to notice that. 

“So uhm.. I heard you’re not happy with the current situation.” He started, clearly hesitant and careful. “But if you don’t want to drop out, there is nothing we can do. So I hope that we can make the best out of it?” He vaguely smiled at you while tilting his head. 

Oh wow. He heard your little rant. What a good start. 

“See, Yunho..?” You asked, continuing after getting his nod. “I didn’t mean it that way. I am a little… sensitive when it comes to new things. It’s not like I am against working with you, especially not you personally, I was just surprised and overwhelmed..” You explained, scratching your head in the process.

“I know it’s nothing personal against me, don’t worry. I just want to get the best out of this opportunity.” Yunho’s assuring smile was somehow comforting. He looked so innocent, kind and calm. And that helped you calm down before your Managers, Yunho had brought his with him, called you over.

“Have you done a collaboration before?” Your Manager asked Yunho as you sat down together to plan. Yunho nodded. “Good because our Y/n is new to it.” The way your manager talked, showed you that there was no harm intended in that statement. It was just the truth. And suddenly you felt a little childish.

You made such a big deal out of something so usual. 

Being the inexperienced one was weird to you. You had always been good at what you were doing when you worked with others. Of course you were teached as well and you learned a lot but it had been a while since you were the student.

“You’ll have one week to prepare for the stage. No crazy props. They want a performance focused on teamwork.” Yunho’s manager explained while giving you a list of things you could use. “We already talked Yunho through all the details on our way here so he will explain it to you further. We don’t want to steal more of your precious working time.” 

And with that it took five minutes until the studio was empty, except for you and your dance partner. 

“Well.. I guess we should stretch?” You awkwardly smiled at him, causing him to laugh.

Hours passed without you noticing. The studio had no windows so there was no daylight to show you how late it was. The bright lamps kept you from getting tired and the constant movement you were in made you forget about time. 

As the time passed you got to know another side of Yunho. At first you thought he was really playful and lightheaded but you figured out quite quickly that he could also be incredibly serious. 

His passion caught you off guard at first but soon enough you got into working space as well and to your surprise you worked really efficiently.

“So that would be about it for the first minute of the song. I think we should work on the rest tomorrow when we are a bit… fresher.” A smile broke through his seriousness as he wiped sweat off his forehead. You nodded, taking a big sip of water before packing your things. 

But the pace in which he changed from serious and hard working to goofy was just as scary as the other way around. As soon as you had finished packing and tidying up, he was already talking like there was no tomorrow. His voice went through ten different stages as he told you about that one time his friend from his company tried to stir egg whites with chopsticks for three hours, obviously with horrible results.

And if you were honest? It was relaxing. It was not like you were usually quiet. You could be really loud and talkative around the right people but you felt like listening to his stories made it a lot easier to break the ice. Even though it was thin already.

You were glad that he was your partner because you didn’t know if you could have worked so well with someone else. 

“And well. He even tried to get his friend to eat it but he politely declined the offer.” Yunho finished his story of the egg whites just as you left the building. 

“That sounds.. interesting.” You let out a small chuckle. “I bet he was not allowed into the kitchen any longer?” You guessed, making Yunho laugh out loud. “His best friend chased him out with a pan.” He confirmed your guess. 

His friends sounded amazing. 

You had friends at the company and some at your part time job but you weren’t really close with anyone particularly.

“Okay then. I’ll see you tomorrow!” Yunho said while getting in a car. And it took you a minute to realise that he was the one driving. 

You nodded at him before walking off in the other direction. He can drive? You wondered as you walked past the company building. It wasn’t unusual but you didn’t have a license so you were a tiny bit jealous. And maybe impressed. 

The following day was pretty uneventful. You met up at around 10am and started to work on your choreography.

You suddenly had a very good feeling about this collaboration. The day went by incredibly fast and after a shared lunch you even managed to finish the complete outline of the choreography. And you were proud because you genuinely liked what you had created together.

Even though you were extremely tired, looking at the short clips you recorded made your face lit up. 

The choreography was hard but matched the energy of the song perfectly.

“We should stop for today and work on the details starting from tomorrow. Then we’ll have five days to make it perfect.” You suggested, knowing that the hard work will start from tomorrow on. 

You both knew that the hardest part about this collaboration was yet to come so you agreed on having one last relaxing evening before hell would break out. 

“I could drive you home.” Yunho suggested as you walked out of the building. But you politely declined. “I like the walk back home.” You said, waving as you turned around. 

Well technically your way home was really long and quite exhausting, maybe even a bit scary this late, but you wanted to keep a little distance. You had already caught yourself staring at him for a bit too long sometimes and definitely didn’t want that feeling to get bigger. It was just so fascinating when he was dancing. You hadn’t felt this way in a while as you watched someone dance, so you figured that was why you got a little excited.

But you liked how it was right now. And you really wanted to keep this professionalism. How hard could that be?

“What’s wrong with us today?” You nervously laughed as you stood up to get into a normal position. It was the third time in a row that both of you couldn’t stay serious, immediately breaking into shy laughter as soon as you looked each other in the eyes. 

Oh you had been so wrong. How hard could that be? You were internally laughing at yourself. Incredibly hard. 

You thought the chances were low because you could stay in character. Just as good as Yunho. But you both seemed a little off.

“I have no idea.” Yunho laughed, taking a sip from his water bottle.

Giving up on that one particular scene, you continued with the rest of the choreography. And you got through that pretty well.

But you knew that something was off. You weren’t as concentrated as always. You caught yourself staring off into nothing and randomly losing focus way too many times in one day. And that was really scratching your productivity. 

“Maybe we should take a break.” Yunho suggested, making your cheeks heat up. But you just nodded in embarrassment. You were the main problem, and that was a problem for you. 

“Come on! Why isn’t this working?!” You groaned, repeating one of the moves for the 100th time. But it was still not giving you the effect you wanted. 

After finishing practice with an unsatisfied feeling yesterday, you wanted to make extra effort today. But that resulted in you getting upset over that one specific move you just couldn’t get right. 

“No no Y/n, a little more like this-“ Yunho demonstrated your already most hated movement of the month. But you couldn’t get it again. It was already late and you didn’t want to make him stay. It wasn’t his fault that you were failing. You were upset with yourself, not with him, so why make him stay?

“Yunho I think you should go home. It has no use. I don’t think that I will get it right any time soon..” You forced up a smile while lifting your head. But Yunho only tilted his head.

“But I have this bad feeling that you won’t sleep if I go now.” 

Bullseye. You were frustrated. You knew you shouldn’t let it out on him but..

“And what if I don’t? What are you? My mom?” You asked, surprising yourself at how annoyed that came off. You threw your towel against the bench, already feeling your anger rise. He needed to leave, or else this wouldn’t end very nice. 

“Sorry that wasn’t.. please just go home.” You were suppressing the tension in your voice, avoiding eye contact on purpose. 

“But you should-“ “I should what?! God Yunho. Just. Leave me. Alone.” 

You had turned around faster and abrupter than you actually wanted, making him flinch. He didn’t want to do any harm. And seeing his hurt expression made you want to apologise right away. But something inside of you couldn’t. 

Instead you just quietly watched him pack his back and walk out of the room with a “I’ll see you tomorrow…”

You had fucked up. And you knew that. But that didn’t stop you from doing exactly what he thought you would. 

You stood up all night, repeating the choreography again and again. Sure, it was harder alone but you felt freed because you didn’t have to worry about burdening someone. 

But that also made you forget to sleep.. or to drink. 

When Yunho showed up the next morning, finding you in the same clothes as yesterday, he sighed. He knew it.

You on the other hand were not really tired. Once you had survived that tiredness at about 4am, staying awake was quite easy. And it’s not like it would be the first time you worked through a whole night. 

And Yunho let it slip. Because it actually helped. You had overcome your problem and now 98% of the choreography was set perfectly. Just without Yunho. The missing variable. 

This day was rather productive. You went out to eat, meeting one of your co-workers from your part time job which caused a pretty embarrassing “who is that cutie” situation and got pretty far in your progress. And you promised Yunho to sleep when he left. 

But you kinda lied. Because you stayed up all night. Again. 

“Oh! Good Morning y/n! Why are you here so early? I’m usually fir-“ Yunho stopped talking as soon as you turned around. You looked beyond tired. 

“You didn’t sleep, did you?” His face immediately got serious, slowly getting closer to you.

You looked at the ground. You somehow couldn’t look him in the eyes. It felt like you were a little kid and he caught you stealing candy. 

“Listen Y/n.” Yunho’s voice was loud and steady as he grabbed you by your shoulders. You instantly looked up, finding his face right in front of yours. 

“This is a collaboration. It has no use when you can do the choreo on your own. We have to do it together.” He said, looking into your eyes way too intense. You felt ashamed but at the same time didn’t want to acknowledge that what you did was wrong. 

“But it obviously didn’t help when you tried to show me! And now I have the moves down so what’s your problem?” You responded, looking at him with the same intensity.

You shouldn't be fighting. You should just go back to to practice and let it slide. But you couldn’t help but stare at each other. You couldn’t see what he was thinking. His expression was unreadable and the silence between you two started to get more tense with every second. 

It was the moment you felt your eyes wander from his eyes to his lips and back that made you realise that you should definitely stop. You just didn’t notice him doing the same.

“I- we should just continue.” You said, your voice shaking as you broke the eye contact and turned around. But Yunho was definitely not letting you get away with that. You felt him grab your arm, turning you around. But before you could protest, you felt his lips pressed against yours.

Your eyes widened when you realised what he was doing. Why? How? Right now? Suddenly? Yes you had thought about this. Yes you had stared at his lips way too often but what? You didn’t-

You tried to push away as you felt those little annoying butterflies in your stomach but he didn’t let you. You couldn’t like him.. that would only end in problems. But his lips felt so good..

“Was it so bad?” Yunho chuckled as he gently pulled away from you. But you were way too overwhelmed to say anything. Instead you just managed to shake your head. 

Did that really happen? You looked up into his eyes, only to see a soft smile on his lips. 

“I guess we should start practicing now huh?” He laughed gently as he straightened his posture. And you didn’t know what drove you but now you weren’t gonna let him get away with it. He wanted to kiss you? Well then he should at least do it properly. 

“Bad.” You just whispered before grabbing him by his collar and pulling him close. “Come on. You can do better than that.” You smirked before pressing your lips against his again.

And he did better. It didn’t take long until you were pressed against the mirror, hands in his hair, legs around his waist. His lips tasted better than anything you ever had and his big hands that were holding you up were giving you an incredibly safe feeling.

“Fuck..” Yunho mumbled when you pressed your body against his. Your hips slipped a little further down, suddenly hitting something.. hard.

“Are you..?” You asked, looking down his body and up to his red face again. 

He just nodded, instantly letting go of you and turning around. “Sorry.. I didn’t mean to ehm get too invested haha..” He laughed nervously as he took a step back. “Let me go.. to the toilet real quick?” He took big steps to the door when he suddenly heard a thud behind him.

You had wanted to stop him and tell him that it’s alright but when you took a step forward, your vision suddenly got blurry. And then black. A thought shot through your head as your legs gave in. When was the last time I drank something?

You woke up to Yunho shaking your shoulder and as soon as you opened your eyes, he threw a water bottle at you. 

“I told you.” He just said while helping you get up. Looking at the clock showed you that you were only “gone” for about 10 seconds or so but your head was screaming at you as if you drank 6 bottles of soju. Alone.

You swore under your breath while shoving the water down your throat, feeling the headache getting worse already.

“Ok. You sit down on the bench now and monitor me. Get rest.” Yunho said in a stern voice while he began to stretch.

As soon as he started stretching, your mind went on a journey. Did that really happen? Or was it a dream? You still had the picture in front of your eyes, how he was holding you up against the glass, how he was pressing his lips on yours. But there were no signs of it happening. 

“Earth to Y/n, I’ll start now so watch.” Yunho interrupted your thoughts, making you watch him. You sat there for a while, head in the clouds, before you shook your head and interrupted him. He stopped mid movement and tilted his head.

“You’re right Yunho.” You murmured, eyes on the ground. “We only have tomorrow left since the competition is the day after. I shouldn’t have been so stubborn. Now I’m all exhausted and we don’t have enough time to make it perfect.” You felt horrible. Maybe it was the fact that you were heavily dehydrated but you were miserable. You would both fail and it was your fault.

Yunho had kneeled down in front of you and put one hand on your shoulder. “We can win this.” He said with a certainty you couldn’t explain. “I want you to go home now and rest. And I will drive you. No discussion." And you didn’t complain. You were tired. He had helped you pack your things before you went down, got in his car and left.

You don’t remember what happened after but you somehow ended up in your warm and comfortable bed.

The next day went by quickly. You met up. You practiced. You ate. You practiced. All the tension from before seemed to have disappeared in thin air, making you question if his lips on yours had really been a dream. But that was good. Because by sunset you both laid on the floor in your own sweat. Done. You couldn’t believe you had finished your choreography, nor could you believe that the stage was tomorrow. You looked over to your right where Yunho was laying. It was all thanks to him. 

Without him and his flowery personality you probably would’ve gotten more and more frustrated to the point of giving up. But now you were finished. It was complete. You felt complete. And as Yunho turned his head to smile at you, you felt thousands of butterflies in your stomach.

“The next team is Yunho and Y/n.” You heard the announcer through one of the speakers. It was time. You had decided to wear something simple. White shirt on white slacks. As you made your way up to the stage, your hands began to shake. Fuck you were rarely nervous, why now? 

However, all your nervousness disappeared as Yunho took your hand. Yes you weren’t alone, but somehow it felt good to have someone by your side.

“Let’s win this together!” He said in a calm but reassuring tone before you got into position to start. You nodded firmly. And then the music started. Electricity ran through your veins as you danced by his side. Everything around you was floating, you saw everything in slow motion. Every touch felt light and every move was effortless. Your breath was calm. And suddenly it was over.

If someone asked you about your performance afterwards you wouldn’t be able to say a thing. You remembered nothing except for the first beat of the song hitting your body. 

You were breathing heavily as your surroundings cleared up. Everything got louder, brighter, faster. You looked over to your partner. His eyes were sparkling as he scanned the crowd. You couldn’t help but smile. Oh how you loved this man.

Oh how I- you realised your own thoughts when the first jury started to speak. 

Your final score was 98.7. The best so far but there was one more team coming up after you. While you were sitting in the waiting room, watching the last team’s performance you remembered the thought you had on stage.

Love. Such a strong word. Then you looked over to Yunho who was getting water for the both of you. You hadn’t talked to him after you got off stage. When he asked if you wanted water you simply nodded before sitting down. Your competitors were strong. But not as good as you and Yunho were. 

He sat down next to you, giving you a cup, while the score of the last team was announced. Your heart was racing. You gulped down the whole cup. 

97.4.

You won.

In the one second it took you to realise what happened, Yunho had already picked you up and swirled you around. And right when he stopped, it settled. You had won.

Without a single thought in your head you pressed your lips onto his. You had won and it was all thanks to him. He was perplexed at first but kissed you back quickly. A rush of happiness struck your body as you buried your hands in his hair. Even as you separated, your eyes were locked with his. You needed to tell him.

“I love you Yunho.” You whispered, not sure if you said it loud enough. His eyes widened. “I-“ he stuttered. You could see the realization on his face as it lit up.

“I love you too!” You were blinded by the brightness of his smile as he spun you around again. But then you were interrupted by a sudden announcement.

“Congratulations Yunho and Y/n. You successfully made it into the last round of our competition!”

Last round? This should have been the last round! You opened your mouth in shock. Yunho was still holding you tight as you looked at him in horror, hearing the next sentence.

“Prepare to fight. Your next and last challenge is to compete with each other.”

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Tags:

@jonghoisbabie @multidreams-and-desires @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers-writes @serialee @crimsonbubble @cometoceantrenches @em--ilysm @deja-vux @kawaiiloli00 @ddeonghwva @aaaaajonghooooo @sansbun @cookies-n-joong @plonys @hijirikaww @nari-nim @yunkiwii @mingi-ivity @racheloveyunho @seongsangsgf @jhmylove @lizsvcks @yunhobabygurl @leoninadecorazones @kerra-that-one-random-fangirl @star1117-archives

——

[hualianisms]

✦ what was your easiest fic to write & your hardest?

☉ what do you do when you get stuck writing?

✄ what’s your editing process?

✎ how do you think readers would guess a fic was yours if you posted anonymously?

tysm for the ask!! 🩵🩵 be prepared for a lot of yapping

✦ what was your easiest fic to write & your hardest?

easiest fic: this is a bit of a hard qn bc ive written 58 fics so far through the years and i forgot half the things i wrote kfjjfj but id say, the easiest was probably my first ever real fic, i.e. this hualian hurt/comfort fic where hc has a nightmare of the 100 swords scene. it was the first thing i wrote right after finishing reading tgcf and i wrote it all in one go and the dialogue & actions & characterization flowed so easily, i could picture the scene so easily in my head (which doesn't always happen for me). and writing hualian felt like the easiest thing in the world bc back in 2020 every little detail about them as characters and as a ship was imprinted in my mind so vividly... i miss those days 😔 my memory abilities have deteriorated since then

otherwise, iirc my first ever fengqing fic and my fenglian poem were also very easy to write

hardest fic: 😭😭 this could be so many of my fics tbh, there's so many i struggle so much with.. especially the unfinished wips, bc everything i actually posted means it wasn't the hardest, since i actually managed to finish them

but among my posted wips, i definitely struggled with the earlier chapters of my hualian fake dating au very badly at the earlier chapters and almost gave up on it which was why there was a 1-2 year gap btwn updates 😭😭 i actually went into a 1-2 year long burnout right after posting chap 1. luckily though, the most recent chapters got much better for me, finally reached a part of the story that's much easier and more fun to write (except that i wrote myself into a bit of a corner so ive been brainstorming how to get out of it). i just struggle a lot with multichaps bc my executive dysfunction issues make it very overwhelming for me to plot things. but im very determined to see this fic through to the end and finish my first ever multichap!

there's a lot more i struggled with - usually longer fics, fics for a new fandom (especially visual media fandoms. book/text-based fandoms are much easier bc you already have a canon peek into their character voice and narration style), non-canon ships that need a lot of wrangling to be believable, fics where i worry a lot about being ooc, fics that need action scenes or a real plot

the rest of the qns answered under the cut:

☉ what do you do when you get stuck writing?:

😭 it depends on why im stuck. i might ask someone for help w characterization. sometimes i just go for a jog/walk to clear my head and it works, otherwise if im rly stuck, especially plot-wise, I'll procrastinate and put the fic off for weeks/months

✄ what’s your editing process?

just rereading my own draft and rewriting or filling in the blanks where i feel like it can be better or is missing smth. i don't cut scenes often unless they're really bad. sometimes i rearrange entire paragraphs around to make them flow better

✎ how do you think readers would guess a fic was yours if you posted anonymously?

this is an apt question bc i have 2 anon fics rn and had a few in the past that i took off anon a couple of years later.. i think the easiest way to tell is my authors' notes. in both start & end notes i tend to yap + i usually apologize a lot in the start notes

besides that maybe fic titles (mitski). i think the genres and writing tone/vibe through my 50+ fics have varied a lot so i don't think that would be distinctive.. id be interested to hear if my writing style is distinctive bc i have no idea myself 🤔 i know i have some phrases i reuse across fics though (trying to work on that issue), and a bad habit of having long sentences sometimes (ive really been working on reducing this issue)

(send me an ask from the fic ask game part 1 or the fic ask game part 2)