#by which i mean this is my second non-exchange fic in four years

[ziskandra]

Fic: a celebration of being alive

Relationship: Loghain Mac Tir/Female Cousland

Summary: Loghain thought Cousland deserved better than the attentions of a lecherous old man but she was the one who kept entering his tent.

Tags: Age Difference, Woman on Top, Broken Bones, Survivor Guilt

Words: 2697

Excerpt:

Read it on AO3!

[pebblysand]

[NOVEMBER '21] - THE LIFE/WRITING UPDATE NO ONE ASKED FOR (AND SOME QUICK LINKS)

oh lads. i don’t know about you but i have no idea where october went. i mean, i wrote every fucking day under the sun, then i went on holiday, then i edited 13,000 words in 27 hours almost straight, bar a 3 hour nap in between, then my mum came to stay with me, and now here we are, lol. plus the clocks have gone back gone forward i never know, and now it’s just dark, all the time, oh happy days. i think i said this in my old fic "children" once, but november is universally the shittiest month of the year, amiright?

Anyway, before diving into more life/writing updates, here are some quick links to different blog pages you might not see on mobile :

to read my fics

to read my original work

fic recs

to read my tumblr rants about stuff

[NOTE: i am currently not accepting prompts but maybe soon-ish?]

Castles (chap 10) ETA: december?

links extended a/n-s: chapter v ; chapter vi & vii ; chapter viii ; chapter ix

[more life/writing updates under the cut]

what i’m reading:

i went on holidays this month and so as planes have always been (and probably will always be the one place i read) we are back in business! i finished two books this month, and they were really good reads!

books:

i finished beautiful world, where are you? by sally rooney. as i’ve said before, i’ve been a sally rooney stan for a few years now, and i genuinely enjoyed this book, although it definitely was not my favourite. i think my issue with this book was two-fold: first, i didn’t love the letters exchanged between the two main protagonists - i felt they were a bit of a waste of space and did not really tell the reader anything new about the characters, if i’m honest and second, i felt a bit frustrated by the four-main-characters set-up, rather than two, like in normal people. i felt the same with conversations with friends so this is not news but i feel like if there’s one thing sally does, it’s character building, and i just wish she would focus on one or two people, rather than try and get confused with doing four. i also thought that strangely enough, she did a better job at having the boys be fascinating, well-rounded, flawed individuals, rather than the girls. both simon and felix felt like very interesting, complicated characters i really wanted to spend time with, and i desperately wanted this story told from their pov, rather than eileen and alice’s. i wonder if this is the only the effect of the restricted pov (obviously, the other characters whose heads you’re not in always feel more like a mystery) but i think it was something deeper than that. i felt that eileen was a bit too perfect for my taste and alice just felt like sally self-bashing. a lot of people have said that alice is a self-insert (insanely famous author of two books about “people,” known for the way she writes about sex… um, yeah, sure, why not?) but i would argue that it only is in the way that alice feels like rooney being like: here is everything i hate about myself in a single character who, by the way, has no redeeming qualities. i fucking hated alice, and i think you’re meant to hate her, and i was like, ‘honestly, sally, darling, no one is that bad.’ all of this being said, though, obviously, sally is a genius. her writing is stellar, her storytelling skills are insane and i will read her grocery list if she gives it to me. there’s that scene at the party with simon and eileen where she conveys all of the feelings in the world with almost no emotion whatsoever in text, that scene legit brought me to tears and i was like: okay, fair play, sure look, i’ll never write again, thanks very much. lastly, (and i’d be curious if this is a shared sentiment by non-irish people, @hiinnys, maybe, i’m curious what you thought) but i felt that this novel was a lot more “irish” than the previous ones. the omnipresence of the dublin rental crisis, the locations, i even noticed more irish phrases like the “do be” verb tense, which i don’t recall being used in her previous work. this might be in my head (or maybe i’m just noticing this now because i’ve been here longer) but this book really felt irish and homey to me. there was a very interesting article in gawker (ugh, i know) on this topic entitled “sally rooney is irish” and how she writes about ireland but without making it into this cliche-ed postcard set up we’re so used to. i thought it was super interesting and would highly recommend.

i also finished a book i’d downloaded on kindle ages ago but only got to now: watch her fall by erin kelly. sure look, ya girl loves a good thriller sometimes and erin kelly is such a master at telling a story from multiple povs… i’m honestly jealous. i really enjoyed this, the pacing and writing was great, and i loved the classical dancing setting. my only complaint is that the end twist, i felt, didn’t wrap around everything as well as it did in he said/she said, so i would definitely recommend reading that one first, because it’s really her masterpiece. this was definitely fab and entertaining. i was up trying to finish it until 2am the night i got back from romania, so this was 100% a banger.

fics:

i’m still reading: knowing where to look by ala_baguette and still loving it. haven’t read the latest chapter that came out last night yet, though, so please don’t spoil haha.

i’ve sort of low key been reading love in a time of a zombie apocalypse off a tiktok recommendation. i don’t know, sometimes i like to switch my brain off, okay? also, i’ve always sort of loved zombie/dystopian aus, they make me lol. it’s not the best fic i’ve ever read and i don’t know how i feel about dramione but sure look, it’s fine.

.

what i’m watching:

i haven’t finished downton abbey but i have gotten recently obsessed with two other shows lately. the first is maid. i’ve spoken about it on tumblr a bit but boy, if domestic violence and poverty are topics that you feel drawn to, do give it a watch. it’s beautiful, the acting is stellar, it does such as good job of showing the cycle of toxic relationships, the legal difficulties when, as she puts it “you don’t have bruises” and is so, so well written, i absolutely loved it. obviously, it is a tough watch, though.

i’ve also been watching a lot of goliath lately. i’m on season 3, which i feel is slightly weaker than the first two, but i’m honestly loving it so far. it’s got a lot of michael connolly vibes, i feel, especially in the way that it shows los angeles, and is actually very funny. the characters are great, the acting is absolutely stellar (that woman who plays the paralegal is chef’s kiss) and i’m definitely enjoying this. would highly recommend if you’re looking for a non-traditional legal show.

.

what i’m writing:

okay, this deserves capslocks. CASTLES IS OUT. I REPEAT. CASTLES IS OUT. thank the lord.

jokes aside, this took ages to get out, and i’m so, so glad it now is. i don’t know why but i was convinced this chapter was going to piss off a lot of people but actually, the response was overwhelmingly positive so thank you so much. i am so thankful and humbled by the fact that so many people are reading this story, it’s an actual dream and honestly, getting all your comments in throughout the last couple of days, it’s just been the absolute best feeling. i’ve tried to answer most of yous by now but i am running a bit of a backlog so please hand in there. but thank you, thank you, thank youuuu.

in terms of what happens next, i’ve said it on a couple of discords but i’m finally doing nanowrimo for the first time in my life (yaaaay!) it’s genuinely the first year, since finding out about the event some ten years ago, that i actually both have time and am in the “right” headspace to do this. so i’m trying it out by attempting to write the next 50,000 words of castles. i’m anticipating another 70k so it won’t be really “finishing” castles, but i’m hoping to make a pretty big dent in whatever’s left. this means that while i don’t think i’ll post an update before december, i’ll definitely be working. of course, if you want to send in asks or thoughts or do the word ask game again, anytime, be my guest. i’m actually sort of excited for this. i think it’s going to be tough, but loads of fun.

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what i’m doing:

i went to romania and it was fucking awesome to finally go on a trip after eighteen months of pandemic shite. this being said, i am absolutely exhausted and cannot wait for a bit of dublin-based, quiet time by myself. i’m just gonna paint my nails tonight, order some indian food and then sleep lol. whatevs, i’ll start nano tomorrow.

lots of love,

pebblysand.

[halpertstuna]

valentines day - jj maybank

requested by: @alexa-playafricabytoto

fic exchange by: @killingbxys @earthlyholland

prompts: “can i kiss you?” “valentine’s day just isn’t really my thing”

trope: roommates

au: collage

word count: 1,040

A/N: sorry this is kinda late and not my best work, got too lazy to edit it, but i hope you like it

-> masterlist <-

(gif credit: @riobeth )

—

“Please please please please pleaseeee” JJ begged through the pout painted across his lips as he practically chased you across the hallway.

“No! And for the love of god, would you please stop asking me!?”

“Come onnnn! Pleaseeee It’s valentines!”

“I said no JJ”

“But why?”

“I already told you, Valentine’s Day just isn’t really my thing” you asserted annoyed.

“It’s one date!” He insisted blocking your way to the science lab.

“Dude move, I’m gonna be late for class”

“Not until you say yes”

You sighed and rolled your eyes, when you noticed your professor approaching the door and took the chance to move passed JJ.

“Sorry Romeo, but that’s not gonna happen” you replied as you entered the door, leaving a smirk on JJ’s face at the nickname.

JJ’s had quite a thing for you ever since he first met you - the day you two became dorm roommates.

He adored your smile, and the way you would light up a room just by your very presence. He valued your honesty and authentic beauty, the boy genuinely loved you.

The only problem was the heartbreak you went through before leaving for collage.

The two of you met right after you got out of a serious four year relationship and you simply weren’t ready to get back into the dating world, yet still, he never gave up.

It’s been almost two years since your breakup and a day before Valentine’s so JJ decided to shoot his shot.

Unfortunately, he chose the wrong date.

Valentine’s used to be your favorite day since your ex boyfriend was a hopeless romantic and always made that day a memorable one, filled with big romantic gestures. After you broke up you kind of lost hope in love and so a day to celebrate it seemed to have no meaning.

JJ saw how down you seemed once you returned from your last course of the day and decided to drop the subject, but not his plans.

The next morning you woke up to an empty dorm room, which was unusual since you and JJ always walked together to your morning classes. You tried calling him but it went straight to voicemail. Skeptical, you got ready for the dreadful day and headed to your lecture.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, JJ was planning a surprise.

It was 9:00 pm when you finished your discussion class. you were absolutely exhausted and a bit worried about JJ since he still hasn’t answered any of your calls all day.

On your way to the dormitory you noticed for the first time that day all of the romance around you. All the heart shaped balloons and PDA. As much as you wanted to say it didn’t affect you, made you sick even, the truth is you were a bit jealous. Somewhere deep down you wished, you wanted, to believe it was possible for you to enjoy a Valentine’s Day once more.

When you got to your shared dorm room, the door was locked. You tried nocking “JJ? Are you in there?”, but there was no response. You attempted at twisting the doorknob again but it was no use.

“JJ this isn’t funny, I just had a really shit day and all I want to do is to-“

“to enjoy this non-valentines-valentines date with me” he cut you off by abruptly opening the door

“A what now?”

“Please do enter” he gestured with his arm.

The entire place was filled with star shaped balloons. “Stars? Really?” You let out a chuckle, “I assumed it was better than hearts” he answered rubbing the back of his neck, “now go change into sweats then get back here, i already laid out a pair on your bed”

You were caught off guard but did as he said. When you returned, an unrecognisable smell filled the air engulfing you.

“what’s that smell?”

“That’s my mum’s recipe for lentil soup, figured it was the exact opposite of a romantic dinner, plus it’s the only thing I know how to make other than an omelette,” he confessed earning a grin from you, “oh and for desert I made chocolate strawberries and I know you’re all anti-valentine’s but I just couldn’t help myself” he added.

“Oh my gosh JJ I really don’t know what to say-“

“You don’t have to say anything” he cut you off, “especially considering the main event of this... fine evening” he said reaching into a bag and taking out three CD’S “all three toy story movies, cause nothing says ‘not a valentines date’ more than talking toys” you giggled at his enthusiasm, the two of you sat on the couche and watched all three movies together, enjoying both the food and each other’s company.

“I can not believe you just cried from an animated movie” you laughed with a few tears still rolling down your cheeks from the ending of the last one.

“Wh- you did too!”

“Yeah but I cry all the time, like when I can’t find the exit in a shopping centre or even when you eat the last cookie. But I have NEVER seen YOU cry!”

“It was a sad ending! He gave up Woody! come on, I’m not heartless!” You guffawed at the way he was defending himself and he joined in.

“Thank you JJ, really” you hugged him then parted. Scanning his face, you noticed chocolate smeared on his bottom lip and took the liberty of wiping it of for him. He enjoyed every second of the feeling of your dainty thumb brush against his lips.

When you were about to remove your hand from his cheek he grabbed it gently, looking deep into your eyes he moved his gaze down to your lips then averted it back to your orbs and asked for promotion, “can i kiss you?”

And with no hesitation you let his lips meet your own, exploring every inch, he finally tasted what he desired most for so long , what was so close yet so far, and finally, his wish was granted.

—

A/N: ik there are 4 toy story movies now but i was afraid of spoiling the last one😔🤚🏻

taglist:

@infinitelycharmed23 @queenofthepouges @bibliophilewednesday @bijleegiregi @princessnnylzays @beth-winchester21

feel free to add yourself to my taglist!

[satansbooks]

Obey Me Headcanons

Reader is gn also winchester.

warnings: swear words. I don't know what to put in this. it's my first time actually so definitely be prepared of messy writing and some grammar mistakes?

a/n: hey! I hope you like it since I started watching supernatural again. I thought why don't I give it a try. I didn't add belphegor since this headcanon/fic takes a place in the first month of the whole exchange program. ✨here you are✨

word count: 1,7k

summary: reader is the youngest sibling of winchesters, end up in devildom.

okay so, you and your brothers were after a stupid shapeshifter for two weeks now and let me tell you that, being in a same car with your annoying brothers for two weeks without getting any rest to deal with them was sucked.

this shapeshifter (you guys were guessing he was an alpha since he was fast and wasn't struggling with shifting.) was homicidal maniac to be honest. he killed more than thirty children in a two weeks row and they were so random. like he was killing for fun. there were not any pattern or connection between them.

town to town, city to city. you and your brothers chased him non stoppingly. your body was craving for some bed to sleep on. or a pillow. or anything that is soft and resting. these leather seats were hella uncomfortable.

and still, still you had a very little information about him. he was leaving lots of trace for you to find him. he seemed like he was enjoying your little chasing game. well that makes one. because you were this close to lose your shit.

you were watching stars from your side of the car window while driving (the road was soo empty. you were sure you could drive with your eyes closed). your older brothers music was keeping you company on a low sound level to not to wake them up. normally Dean wouldn't trust you with his car but he was tired. after all he was driving for two weeks with a very little rest. he needed some sleep. at least more than six hours. and Sam, well he just likes sleeping and napping.

so when your vision blurred suddenly you act quick to pull over. without any second you found yourself in a room. it was like a court room with eight chairs. different animal shadows was painted on the walls behind the court chairs. dark decorations and purple&black flags all over the place. only some candles were lighting the whole room.

spooky?

later you found out you were in devildom as an exchange student for a whole year just because some fancy underground elite wanna show off to three realm that he's the one and only king that can bring peace and serenity. you were his little experiment.

anyone could tell you were beyond being angry. you were frustrated. and nothing, nothing you do could change that.

or you thought...

he knew keeping you under his control would be hard so he decided to do what he can do best.

dealing.

if you could stay here without giving him or the house of lamentation any trouble for a month, he was going to release you. but he was sure you would want to stay here after you spent a month. (he knew thanks to barbatos..)

you didn't say anything to him. you knew your brothers would come to get you before that. even if it means they have to destroy whole "devildom". you were sure. also you didn't have anything to use against these demons except your tattoo (which would only work if one of them wanna take over your body.) so the best option was keeping your mouth shut and agreeing with them. you just had to wait for a month.

first night was hard.

not that it got any easier for some time.

you couldn't sleep but who could have blame you. you were in hell. it doesn't matter which fancy name they were calling it. it was hell. the sulphuric smell was unbearable and of course you only had silver knives with you (you were carrying them in your shoe. they were kinda small but since a lot of creatures has a weak spot for silver the size didn't matter. you wished it could harm demons too) so you were unarmed.

they seemed nice tho. they were kind to you (most of the time) especially Beelzebub. so you thought to give them a shot. what could have happen worst?

Lucifer realized the runes you used to seal your room when he was bringing some paper work to your room about exchange program.

these kind of runes were useless here. but he didn't want to say anything to you, clearly you needed them.

Mammon was your 'first' guy. he was with you on your way to RAD and also in your classes. (Lucifer made sure that you two have the same class schedule) eventually you started talking with him because it was impossible not to. he was charming, talkative and funny. you would be lying if you said you wouldn't enjoying his company during your time with him. (especially after the whole pact thing. it only brought you two closer.)

you were quick to remove all runes in your room after that.  because you and mammon started watching movies together. sometimes Beel and Levi would join you.

and when you were not, you were with Asmodeus.

your father was trying to keep a balance between his kids and his hunting business, most of the time you were with your brothers. they were pretty protective over their younger sibling. that actually explained why you didn't have any friends.

so when asmodeus asked you to come shopping with him you were slightly shocked?

yeah, of course you and your brothers went to shopping but it was because of some necessity not for fun or spending your time.

but your nervousness passed quickly around him. he was lovely, and so very kind. you actually liked how straightforward he was. and this little "shopping sprees" turn into your things.

your first and genuine interactions with all of the brothers were on a dinner.

they were trying to scare mammon by using the so told "ghosts" in their house. they were just joking around but even the thought of them made the second eldest shudder.

you didn't say anything because you were enjoying your well-cooked meal which was from human realm (they decided to put some human world food in their menu in order to make you feel more comfortable)

"there's no such a thing as ghosts!"

Mammon said without waiting more. you could sense the anger mixing with fear in his voice. then you feel a sudden urge to laugh.

"oi, what are ya laughing at human!"

"of course there is Mammon. they're pretty common. I'm sure there is one in this house."

you couldn't stop your laughter. there wasn't anything funny about it actually but come to think of it, he was one of the most powerful demon in three realms and scared of low level creatures like ghosts?

brothers always forgot they actually have a hunter in their houses---

they all asked tons of questions about ghosts and other stuffs you've been hunting.

satan was the most curious one about this topic. he asked you many questions about them after dinner. of course he read all about them but it was just basic informations to be honest. (and they all sounded like a fairytale tbh)

please don't be surprised when he actually arranges some kind of hunting trip with you to examine them closely. lucifer didn't know about that.

but figured it out when two of you showed up to RAD very late, smelling like rock salt and fuel.

you gave him one of your notebooks (you started to take notes about the creatures you're hunting with your brothers just like your father did. you already had four notebooks for now. it was like diary.) to study. he appreciates it. :''

okay here's another thing, your older brothers appetite was something you've never seen before. or you thought before meeting with Beelzebub.

when you met Beelzebub for the first time you didn't mind his eagerness to eat that much. (Dean was your family's Beelzebub lol.) obviously you couldn't eat as much as he does but your company kept him happy.

he was giving you big-bear-hugs whenever you talk about your brothers or how bad you missed them. (he feels you :'))

you two started to go diners or whatever they were calling it so often. he was kind and thoughtful. even invited you to join him for workouts. (since you're not going hunting trips anymore, you decided to join him on gym to keep yourself and your form steady.)

after gym you usually would watch a show called "I'm an unstoppable powerful wizard but still don't know how to fall in love with someone so I'm hunting other creature's to forget about my massive heart-break but it's not really a heart-break." which was a good show to be honest.

thats how you got close with Levi. he already was impressed your skills as a hunter ('they're like, out of an anime!' he thought) so he invited you for long gaming sessions in his room. since you were always in a car. it was difficult first. but you got used to it. (he was good at teaching)

you spent tons of sleepless night with him: watching movies and animes, playing games, reading and re-acting manga scenes.

the most challenging demon to communicate was lucifer. he already met your brothers. and he didn't like them. he had a strong prejudice about you. he thought you were just like your brothers.

but after some time, when you started to get more comfortable around other brothers it also effected your relationship with the eldest.

and it all started with a dumb question.

he was doing some paperwork for lord diavolo with you about the exchange program. when you sighed for the millionth time in an hour. he had no choice but ask what was the problem.

"can you look into my eyes and ask me what do I truly desire?"

he was confused?

"I mean there's a Lucifer in human world who can bring people's darkest desires. so I was wondering if you could do the same."

now he was more confused.

there was a Lucifer in human realm? and what was his ability again?

when you try to explain him and failed over and over again you decided to show him.

and you two started to watch Lucifer.

he actually enjoyed spending some alone time with you.

after a month, your brothers never showed up. you didn't want them to. Lucifer said he taken care of them. and he promised that he didn't hurt them.

even if you missed your brothers too much. you knew one year wouldn't hurt anyone.

after all maybe that 'underground elite' was right. he was the one and only who could bring peace and serenity over the three realms...

and you were very thankful to him.

[moccahobi]

Dear Diary [Jimin x Reader]

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff

Rating: E for everyone

Summery: You’re moving! Finally. Getting into a masters program in South Korea meant soooo much to you and it also offered the perfect opportunity to move in with your favorite pen pal and high school friend from an exchange: Park Jimin. A sweet and caring squirrel hybrid.

Word Count: 6.3k words

Genre: Fluff, Hybrid AU, Roommates AU, Friends to Lovers

A/N: OMGGGG. Formatting this was soooo annoying. Never again am I going to do so many dividers. It was not it chief. Lolol. I love this fic though! It is part of a collab for hybrids (check out the masterlist here) you should totally check them out! All the authors here are soooo amazing and their works are amazing in this too! Also! Thank you to @jung-hoseok-s-airplane​ and @spicykoreantatertots​ the two amazing people who betaed this fic for me! They helped soooo much!

Unlocking the door to your shabby apartment, you were struck by how empty it looked. It was really more of a ghost of your apartment at this point. You’d been slowly shipping your stuff over to South Korea for almost a month (really, as soon as you were accepted to Seoul University’s master program and Jimin agreed to be your roommate) and by now, all you had to take with you on your flight tomorrow was a small day bag with your necessities and a suitcase full of the clothes you’d worn this week. Your empty apartment really made the move feel real (something your job’s kind send off party hadn’t done). This move was real.

You had gotten accepted into your dream program across the world.

Tomorrow afternoon you’ll be leaving this area and moving in with Jimin.

You giggled and sat on your couch with a dazed smile stuck on your face. It wasn’t really your couch anymore was it? Your landlord was keeping all the furniture. Not that you really cared. How would you have possibly carted your large furniture across the world anyways? 

After almost four years of living here though… you’d be leaving behind many memories stored in this apartment. Like when one of your friends spent the night here after an evening of clubbing and ended up vomiting all over the rug you’d placed in the living space. He promised to pay for a deep cleaning the next day, which you took him up on… but then he just rented a steam cleaner. He was a funny person like that. Although… it was much less expensive than a cleaning service probably was. Looking back, you laughed at how worried you were of him finding one of your many journals stored on your bookshelf, so worried that you hid them under your bed. Not that it really mattered. He was a sweet friend and your journals just looked like notebooks.

Had you packed them? After shoving them under your bed all that time ago, you didn’t even think about looking back on them. Maybe if you hadn’t been reminiscing, you would’ve forgotten them here and lost them forever. Surely your landlord would just throw them away without a second thought. 

You’d been sleeping on an empty mattress and a small pillow for three days now, your comforter and sheets already in Korea with Jimin. You shuddered against your cold floor as you knelt down on the cold hard floor to grab your almost forgotten journals. With them in hand, you settled onto your pillow-less couch and carefully opened up the last journal you’d written. It was from the study abroad you did in South Korea in your last year of high school. Without that study abroad, you’d never have met Jimin and you most definitely wouldn’t be moving across the world for your masters program.

You wouldn’t want to do anything else though. Jimin was probably your best friend and this program was the opportunity of a lifetime. With a nostalgic smile on your face, you started to read.

Dear diary, 

Something crazy happened today! Ahhh! I was so shocked when Jimin, THE social butterfly of my school, came up and started talking to me. He’s a hybrid of some sort, not that it matters to me. He’s got a black bowl cut too… it looks funny with his furry pointed ears sticking out of it. Anyways, the conversation was a little stunted at first… I barely knew Korean and Jimin barely knew English but somehow we had a really good conversation. I am honestly so shocked. Here I thought that as an exchange student in South Korea, I’d just talk to other exchange students and mumble a few words to other students. I mean… I know Korean some but not much. It was… AHHH! I had so fun talking to Jimin. He’s so sweet and kind. I even added him on Kakao. He’s my first non-exchange family member on my Kakao. I can’t wait to get to know him more.

Dear diary, 

Jimin and I talk almost daily! Mostly through text because we don’t see each other much during school but that’s ok! He is in a lot more advanced classes than I but I think we are planning on meeting up for lunch this Wednesday. He even asked if I wanted to join him at the dance club but I said no… I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of my only friend. Given, Jimin is so friendly and sweet that I bet he’d just laugh and try to teach me but still. Besides, he apparently competes. That’s what I’d heard from others at school at least. I don’t want to distract him from preparing for competitions. 

Dear diary,

I went to a karaoke booth with Jimin and some of his friends. It was so fun! Jimin’s friends were a little shy to talk to me but they opened up as we started to sing more. I didn’t expect them to be such weebs like me! Lol. They all joined in to sing the current theme song of One Piece. It was soo funny. The mic didn’t know who to focus on and we got such a baddddd score. Jisoo was sooo funny while singing (Jisoo is a sweet cat hybrid). Jimin is surprisingly a great singer though! I was surprised. Is there anything he is possibly bad at? I don’t know. 

After karaoke, he and I went to a park and just chilled. Instead of sitting at a bench, Jimin dragged me off to a small clearing and sat on a low tree branch. It was the first time I really thought of him as a hybrid because… like… sitting on that tree with his tail swaying slowly as he ate ice cream… I don’t know. It was nice to just be with him there but still. It didn’t help that he kept batting at me with his tail until I joined him on the branch. I could have sworn the branch shook as I joined! We probably both almost died because of that branch broke, we would have fallen! I am exaggerating… but still. 

You were such an extra kid at times. A laugh left you as you thought back on that afternoon spent talking while chilling on the tree branch. Now you knew there was no way you would have died even if the branch fell. The worst thing that would have happened would have been a broken bone (although with Jimin’s quick reflexes and hearing, he might have noticed the branch start to splinter before it even became an emergency for both of you). 

Looking over at the clock, you noted that it was almost nine at night. Jimin would wake up soon and start his last day roommate-less. You chuckled thinking about what he might be doing right now. Maybe he’d be meticulously rolling over his couch so that his hair wasn’t all over it when you first sat down, or he was washing all the blankets to make sure they were extra soft (in reality, he was probably hitting snooze for the 100th time that morning).  Either way, he was probably just as excited to see you again as you were. Sure you’d texted each other almost daily but it wasn’t the same. You both became super busy and the time zone difference made it hard to video chat often. 

Life happened and no amount of texting or video chatting seemed to make up for that.

For all you knew, Jimin looked so different from what you remember that when you arrive at the airport and look for him holding the “Welcome Y/n” sign he made, you will only be able to recognize him by the sign (and his tail… unless he dyed the dark brown tail to be some other color). 

Maybe you’d changed too. Your hair and style have undoubtedly changed… but would Jimin notice changes other than that? Maybe your scent had changed. You knew that hybrids had more sensitive noses and often identified people by scent (you learned that the hard way by trying to play hide and seek in the dark with Jimin and some of his friends at a party… never again). During your exchange, Jimin claimed you smelled like blossoms (from how you’d read about smells in the past, you knew there was more to one’s smell than just one thing but you didn’t push Jimin for more). Maybe you’d ask Jimin again sometime.

A vibration from your phone took you out of your thoughts and when you checked the notification, you chuckled. It was as if Jimin knew that you were thinking about him. 

Jimi: I built your bedframe~

Jimi: When your sheets arrive today I will make your bed. That way you don’t have to worry about all that after such a long flight. 

Jimi: Can’t wait to see u again!

You: Thank you

You: I am excited to see you soon too!

Looking down at your worn journals and gently rubbing their spines, you decided you wanted to have a journal for this journey too. Given your track record of starting and dropping journals, you’d probably only keep at it for a month or so but could still be very nice. There was one simple issue with your plan though, you didn’t have a notebook to write in… or a pen. Those things were in Korea by now. 

You’d have to leave the house to get that stuff… or you could just buy it at the airport tomorrow. The airport only sold overpriced stuff though… plus it would be cool to start writing now.

With that thought, you got up, put your shoes on, grabbed your wallet and keys, and walked to the closest general store. After little deliberation, you bought a slender black dotted notebook and gel pens. Excitement bubbled up inside you as you sat on your couch again, pen poised to write. This would be fun. 

Dear diary,

I am moving tomorrow. 

I am moving halfway across the world to live with Jimin, a squirrel hybrid and my best friend. I was accepted into my dream masters program and will be living in South Korea on a student visa. I am so excited to see Jimin again. Has he changed much or is he still the same old sweet guy who hid in trees to think and talks to strangers? I’ll know soon. 

Well… it won’t be that soon. I have to fly to South Korea first. 

It’ll be a long flight. I’ll arrive in Seoul tomorrow at 5pm and Jimin will take me out to dinner with some of his friends before we just relax at our shared apartment. Almost all of my stuff is already in the apartment. I’ve been shipping them across for a little over a month or so now. 

I am so excited. 

I should probably eat something and go to bed though. Tomorrow will be long and full of tedious airport procedures… yay! Note the sarcasm. 

Good night. 

Let’s see if I use you.

Dear diary,

It is almost time to board. I am so excited. When I was packing, I thought that I would be more anxious about the move and make a little sad about leaving my friends and family behind, but I don’t feel anxious or sad. Ok… I am a little sad. But my excitement outweighs my sadness. I’ll be leaving some friends behind but I will be making so many more! And I’ll finally get to see Jimin again as well. 

Oh.

My flight is about to board. I guess I will talk to you later then!

You were exhausted by the time you finally sat down in your seat, ready to see Jimin again and sleep in a made bed. The flight would be a long slog full of you getting up to use the bathroom, walking down the isles just to move, reading a book because it was one of the few forms of entertainment you had, and drinking lots of water. It was exhausting (somehow), yet time moved and eventually you found yourself staring out at Korea’s landscape. 

The city was alive and so pretty. For a moment you forgot that you were tired. Given the second you got up, you remembered it all again. Your legs felt sore and tired from sitting in one spot for so long and your eyelids were almost sheets of lead by now. As you waited for the people in front of you to leave the plane, you turned your phone back on (you’d bought a cellular plan last week for when you would be in Korea). As soon as it connected to your new plan, you were bombarded with excited messages from Jimin that he’d sent all through his day. From photos of food he’d cooked for your first dinner together to the ‘Welcome to Korea Y/n’ poster he made for you. It made you smile and  as you neared where he said he would be waiting for you, you grew even more excited once again. 

Would you get along with his friends?

Would your schedules match? 

Jimin came into view before you could keep thinking, his “Welcome to Korea Y/n” sign much bigger and grander than you imagined. There were two hybrids flanking either side of him, one you recognized as Jisoo from high school and the other you’d never met before. Even from the six or so meter distance you were at right now, you could see Jimin’s tail quiver excitedly. You sped up. Six meters couldn’t end soon enough. Jimin handed the poster to one of his friends and engulfed you in a suffocating hug, his warmth flooding you. Almost immediately, you felt a sense of home in Jimin’s arms, your bodies melding together nicely and a sense of calm settling over you. You didn’t want to let go. It wasn’t until one of his friends coughed awkwardly that Jimin released you and held you at arms length while giving you a once over. 

He looked good. 

Not that you expected much else from the dancer. Numberless days spent in the studio sculpted his body better than any artist you knew or studied could have done. Miraculously enough he’d somehow developed a sense of style. You especially loved his colorblocked button up shirt that seemed to shine in the dingy airport. 

“Nice to smell you again, Y/n-ah.” Jimin said, a shit-eating grin splitting his sweet smile as he winked at you.

A loud snort left one of Jimin’s friends, who appeared to be a pig hybrid. A cute pig hybrid at that. A shy blush bloomed across his handsome and plump face before he asked to take your suitcase (something you happily let him take). Jimin chittered quietly next to you as you quickly introduced yourself to his friends (the pig hybrid’s name Minju and the other, a mutual high school friend, Jisoo). The four of you started to leave the airport. 

“I wouldn’t have invited Jisoo and Minju to come and pick you up but I don’t have a car… I figured that you’d rather not lug all your stuff around the subway.”

“Out of all three of us – four of us I guess– I am the only one with a car.” Jisoo injected happily, twirling his keys around one of his slender fingers.

You laughed and nodded. Content to just listen to the three of them banter and talk as you were led to Jisoo’s car. They seemed content to embarrass each other by telling you about things they’ve done in the past that varied in severity from mistakes while dancing to drunken nights spent together. At one point, you even added in a story of Jimin and Jisoo fighting with sparklers, getting burned, and then burning all the sparklers as “revenge”. The banter didn’t stop until the car stopped and by then you’d felt as if you had spent more than just one year and a car ride with them.

“Now, Y/n-ssi, I know that you and Jimin talked about going back to his place and having a relaxing night–”

“We did and I’m excited to eat the food Jimin made. If it’s edible.” You added, smiling as Jisoo laughed and Jimin shouted.

“Yes. Well, Jimin had to make a deal with me to get me as a chauffeur.”

“It was a damn rotten deal.”

Minju laughed, “Whatever you say Chim. He’s still gotta honor it. So we are getting some food.”

A large and towering building faced you from outside the car and if the sign was anything to go by, it was more than just a restaurant. It was a karaoke place. A smile grew on your face as you looked up at it. Tonight would be fun… even if you were tired.

Dear diary,

Tonight was amazing. Sure I’d hoped to just settle into Jimin’s and my apartment and go to bed early after eating… but instead Jimin treated Minju, Jisoo, and I to dinner at a karaoke place. I’d have to look but it might have been the same place Jimin, Jisoo, some of Jimin’s friends, and I went to in high school. Not that it matters too much. We had so much fun! By the end of the night I even had Jisoo’s and Minju’s phone number too. Hopefully we can all be friends. 

Jimin has changed in ways I hadn’t noticed when we talked online. He seems to have picked up this habit of chittering. I want to try to figure out if there is something that causes him to chitter or if it just happens. Near the end of the night I tried paying attention to that but it was hard. Almost always when he started chittering, I was doing something. It’s good to be around him again. I missed him more than I realized.

Dear Diary, 

I start classes tomorrow! Yay!!! I also have a job interview tomorrow… which is less exciting. I knew that I would need a job and that I would have to wait until I had officially signed the lease (which happened literally the day after I moved in), but it was still so much work! Jimin has been helping me through which has been suuuuper helpful. After he comes home from the studio and eats– I have been cooking for him since he’s been busier than me– he’s been helping me modify and send in my resumes to places. It’s nice. We sit next to each other on the couch and just… put our heads together to get it done. 

After finishing that, he and I watched a movie after (this has happened two times!). We’ll cuddle together and watch some movie Jimin’s decided I need to watch. He’s a good cuddle buddy. I’ve enjoyed it. Well… wish me luck on my job!

“You’re back? That was fast! I barely had time to finish making dinner!” Jimin called out as you entered, tired from a long week (more like a long month or two by now) of classes and work but nonetheless happy to be home with Jimin. 

Throwing your bag on the closest chair, you went to him and gave him a tight side hug. Almost immediately, you felt some of your built up stress leave you. He was magical like that. You could be having a horrible day and just the sight of your best friend would make it all so much better. The nights where you would sit on the couch together and read or watch tv or just talk were your favorites. Jimin’s head would slowly drift into your lap and you would start to play with his soft hair and ears, your eyes trailing his beautiful face. Tonight would probably be one of those nights if you had any say in his evening plans. 

Jimin’s tail quivered and tickled your nose.

“I am sorry you had such a rough day, Y/n-ah.” Jimin said with a whine and you felt him move to set whatever he was holding down.

“It’s life, I guess.”

“That doesn’t make it any better, ”Jimin turned around and started hugging you tightly as well, gently rubbing his cheek against your neck, “I don’t like it when you’re this stressed, Y/n-ah. Let me take care of you tonight. I don’t want you stressing anymore tonight.” 

You laughed but gave in as Jimin started leading you to the couch before he started to bring the food he made into the living space as well. Soon enough, you were being coddled by Jimin who was making sure you ate and cuddling you as the two of you watched some random show. Sleep didn’t find you that night though. For some unknown reason, butterflies were hatching in your stomach and all you could do is feel them flutter around while wondering why you were possibly feeling such flutters. 

Less than a month later, as snow started falling down rapidly, you found yourself in a similar situation. It was your turn to make dinner, which wasn’t a problem because it also happened to be one of the rare days you had off. It was almost 8 at night by the time you finished dinner, the sun long set and Jimin would be home soon. You’d just finished setting the table and were scared by how harshly Jimin slammed the door shut. Normally he was so careful with closing the door, respectful of your neighbors and not wanting to damage anything. 

“Jimin-ah? Is that you?”

“Who else would it be? Have you been giving spare keys to your friends?”

You laughed and grabbed his backpack from him, “Aish. Why would I do that? We agreed not to. How was your day?”

Jimin walked into his room, his door open as he started changing. All the while he was venting. The students didn’t catch on to his newest dance as fast as he’d hoped and during break he heard them complaining. Then he ended up needing to take on an extra class because one of his coworkers bailed and he didn’t have time to practice for his showcase next week. Which was also a complete mess because everyone was being complete idiots, not that Jimin would ever tell them that.

“I’ve been looking forward to dinner all day though.” Jimin said with a large smile on his face as he sat down at the table, you joined him.

After dinner, you and Jimin sat on the couch and as Shrek was playing, he curled up next to you and rested his head on your lap, demanded pets. You wanted to laugh and make fun of him for being so clingy but refrained. He was so stressed. Now wasn’t the right time to make fun of him and his vulnerability. Plus, part of you relished in him wanting cuddles from you. 

Dear Diary,

I am sorry that I’ve been neglecting you. Lol. I’ve been so busy! Being a student full time with a part time job is stressful. Who would have thought? Jimin’s been stressing sooo much over his latest dance performance. It is honestly stressing me out. 

It probably isn’t healthy for him either. He literally spent the whole weekend practicing at the studio… I dropped off lunch for him both days. AND yesterday was one of his days to make dinner and instead of telling me that he couldn’t, he simply didn’t return to the apartment until, like, 10pm. I was so worried. THEN! He got upset at me for assuming he’d be cooking when his show is this Friday. Like, sorry I wasn’t informed that you wouldn’t be. 

More importantly though, I am worried about Jimin. He used to come to me before his performances and we would talk. I was a person he could turn to for stress relief, but all he’s done leading up to this performance is snap at me and hide away in his studio in preparation. I don’t want him to be this stressed out… 

What should I do?

By the next day, you’d figured out what must be done. You were going to forcefully bring Jimin home and the two of you would relax. All of Jimin’s favorite foods were laid out on the living space’s coffee table and you’d even gotten some extra skin care stuff because you knew Jimin loved that. This night would be all about relaxing. Hell, you were even prepared to massage Jimin’s gross feet and back. You’d do anything to make sure that Jimin could relax some. 

You just had to… go to his studio and interrupt him in the middle of his practice… and forcefully bring him home. 

No big deal. You could do it.

Right?

Right.

With a deep sigh, you gave your relaxation set-up a final once over and left the house. It was already 5pm and if you were going to make Jimin relax, you were going to need to start it soon. All throughout driving to Jimin’s studio, you were thinking over the many ways you could try to convince Jimin to relax and when you finally made it to the studio, you realized another issue: 

You had no idea which room he had rented out today.

With an awkward smile and a nod at the receptionist, you made your way into the building. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too hard to find Jimin… 

Of course it was hard. He just so happened to be in the third floor studio furthest from the stairs. When you found his room, you noticed he wasn’t alone. Minju was also visiting him. Neither of them noticed you approaching the door. Both were sitting and talking and when you reached the door you started to be able to hear tidbits of what they were saying.

“You’re going to… Seriously?”

“Yeah. I figured it’d be a super sweet way to confess. It’s why I am stressing so much about this performance. It has to be perfect.”

Oh.

You didn’t open the door.

Jimin liked someone? 

Why didn’t you know?

You were best friends right?

Best friends were supposed to tell this stuff. 

Sadness and disappointment filled your stomach and you contemplated turning around and just letting Jimin practice. Clearly this was important to him. You didn’t want to get in the way of him and another person.

“I don’t know man. Y/n… like this.”

“Like you would know? You’ve known her for the equivalence of a year and then some! I have been… five years now. I was… and as she celebrated!”

“Woah, Jimin-ah… I’m going to go now. Good luck.”

What?

Your brain was short circuiting. He liked you? You must have misheard that. That wasn’t possible. Jimin was… he was a catch and you were just you.

Did you even think of him that way? 

“Oh! Hi, Y/n-ah. Crazy seeing you here!” Minju practically shouted, a smirk on his face as he looked back at Jimin. 

Fuck! Somehow you managed to mumble a hello to Minju before shuffling into the dance studio and looking at Jimin. He looked tired. He also looked shocked and afraid. 

You weren’t supposed to hear what you just heard.

“O-Oh… Y/n-ah! What are you doing here?” 

“Well… I, uhhh, I came because I was worried about you. You’re coming home whether you like it or not and you’re going to relax with me.” You tried to be assertive but all the gusto you’d worked up seemed to have disappeared with Minju. 

“O-Ok.”

“How much of that c-conversation did you hear, Y/n-ah?”

You sighed, “I…,” Were you about to be honest about this? 

Did you want him confessing in front of a crowd of people?

No.

“I think I heard you say that you were planning on confessing to me after your performance?” You didn’t sound sure of yourself, not in the slightest. Not that you knew how anyone could possibly be sure of themselves in such a situation. Jimin himself seemed to deflate, his eyes wide.   

“Fuck. This isn’t how you were supposed to find out. I had–”

Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his confirmation of wanting to ask you out.

Why?

Did you have a crush on him?

“So you were planning on confessing?”

“Yeah? I am so sorry if this makes you uncomfortable. Fuck. I didn’t think this through. We’re roommates. This–”

“I’d be down for a date…” 

“What?” Jimin jumped up, his tail quivering and ears twitching.

“I’d be down for a date. I… I don’t know if I like you back, romantically at least… but I might and I won’t know unless we try.” Jimin looked at you with shock and you started to feel much, much smaller than Jimin.

“What? Really?”

You nodded.

“Omo! Omo! You won’t regret this one bit!” Jimin was bouncing around the room, excitement clearly evident on his face as he celebrated. 

Next thing you knew, you were being pulled into a tight hug, Jimin gently rubbing your neck and repeatedly saying “thank you”. Those damn butterflies never left and as you looked at him, you started to really enjoy the idea of dating him. 

He was your little squirrel… but he wasn’t that little.

“When do you want our first date to be? Oh! I need time to plan! Can we have it after my performance? I really need to keep practicing for it… even if I’m not confessing to you after it anymore. Is that ok with you?” Jimin pulled away from the hug, holding you at arms length and looking worried once again. His brows were furrowed and his teeth worried away at his plump lips.

Huh… You’d never noticed just how cute his plump lips were.

“Hmmm… no.” Jimin paled once again, “Our first date… will be… right now.” You said with a smile and a laugh as his brows furrowed deeper. 

You reached up and soothed the space between his brows with a soft coo, “You’re super stressed, Jimin-ah. I don’t enjoy seeing you stressed. I planned to take you away from the studio tonight. I have skin care and food back home… and if we want we can also go to your favorite bibimbap restaurant before going back to the apartment. How does that sound?” 

Jimin looked conflicted, his cute beady eyes searching your face and moving around the room as he thought. Unless he spoke, you wouldn’t know what he was thinking over and you had half a mind to ask him to speak but instead, you simply waited for Jimin to come to a decision.

“I mean… I was hoping to have some really extravagant first date,” He started but he had already moved to his bag at the side of the room, “This does sound like a great date though… maybe more of a second date or a third date in my opinion–”

“Let’s count it as our second date then. No need to split hairs, Jimin-ah. I’ll wait for you outside the locker room.”

Without giving Jimin time to say anything else, you left and made your way down the stairs to where the locker rooms were. Jimin ran quickly down the stairs and bolted into the locker room, his soft brown ears pinned to his head from how fast he was going. You laughed before settling onto the floor outside the locker room and playing one of the games on your phone. It would be a flip of the coin to see how long Jimin would take. You were personally betting that he is so excited to go on the date that he rushes and is out in fifteen, but he could also want to look good for the date and in turn take an hour. 

Not that he didn’t always look good. 

Even when you just thought of him as a friend, you knew he looked good. Did you think of him as more than a friend? Possibly, yeah. The idea of going on dates with him and being romantic with him sounds amazing. You were really excited to see how this date will go. Distractedly, you tapped away at your game, your mind in la-la-land as it started to think up a future with Jimin. 

“Ready, Y/n-ah?” Jimin asked when he finally finished in the changing room. 

In the end, he took a whole hour and a half to get ready and you were almost positive that you saw Jisoo sneak into the changing room with a bag from your apartment, his sleek tail almost hit you in the face as he exited the locker room. As you looked up at Jimin, you were once again struck by just how handsome he was. He styled his hair away from his face somehow and he looked unfairly good in his black skinny jeans and an oversized sweater. 

You clambered up onto your feet, your legs numb from sitting in one spot for so long, and nodded at him with a shy smile. Gingerly, as if he was scared of breaking you, he grabbed your hand and the two of you left the dance studio. 

Dear Diary,

Jimin asked me out! I was so shocked! Like… it isn’t bad at all… It is actually nice. Really nice. I like it a ton… and even though we’ve only gone on one date so far, I am really starting to like the idea of dating Jimin. He is so… so cute and kind and attentive. We got bibimbap and then just did skincare and stuff. 

Something I am really glad about though is that I found out tonight. Apparently, Jimin was hoping to ask me out Friday after his performance… which would have been so embarrassing… (Imagine the pressure and… PDA is roughhh)… but I overheard him talking to Minju. Gosh. I wonder how Minju thinks of this. Did Jimin text him that we started dating? Is he just waiting until we see each other next? I don’t know what I’d prefer. 

But uhhh… Jimin and I talked about having a “real” first date after his performance. I’m a little apprehensive though… I don’t want him to be exhausted during our first date. I trust Jimin though. He knows himself better than anyone else and if he thinks that he can handle a date after his recital… then so be it. 

AHHH! I am so excited! Wish me luck. I really hope this works out. 

You adjusted anxiously in the theater seat, your dress feeling all too tight in all the wrong places as you looked over the recital directory. Jisoo and Minju were next to you, glancing at you and smirking every once in a while. Jimin most definitely told them that you’re dating… and it doesn’t help that you showed up to the recital over-dressed in preparation for your date with Jimin afterwards. Which was at some super fancy place… how he roped you into that? You don’t know. You were just glad that he’d agreed to go dutch. There wasn’t any way in the world that you’d let him pay for both of your meals at such an expensive restaurant. 

The recital hall was packed, people murmuring and talking excitedly. All of it stopped though when the lights dimmed and the host (a stout looking woman with some sort of large ears on her head) came on to introduce people. Soon enough the recital started and you became entranced by the many dancers who flounced around on stage. They all seemed so… natural up on the stage. Your breath was completely taken away when Jimin performed though. He was practically flying on stage and the way he moved was so… graceful and fluid. All too soon he was done. He’d taken the show. All throughout the rest of the recital you were transfixed. Jimin’s dance was playing on repeat in your mind, your breath stolen and thoughts completely empty. Soon enough, the show finished up and everyone around you was cheering. Almost half-heartedly, you joined along and followed Minju and Jisoo to where the meet-up was. 

Why were you so anxious about seeing Jimin now? You were about to go on a date with him and yet all you could think about was his dance. In no time, Jimin was bouncing over in a nice suit of his own. 

How were you supposed to function? 

Not only was he the best dancer in… in the world but he was also undoubtedly the most handsome man you’d ever met. The three were talking around you but you were still transfixed. A hand gently touched your back and you jumped. 

“Are you ok, Y/n-ah?" 

It was Jimin. He was looking at you with concerned eyes and a soft smile. Minju and Jisoo were gone. You two were alone. 

"I… Yeah. You were amazing out there. I am just… speechless.”

Jimin laughed quietly, a smug smile on his face as he wrapped his arm around your waist.

“You’re ready for our date?" 

You nodded excitedly, walking out of the theater with Jimin in tow. This was going to be an amazing night. 

Dear Diary,

Tonight was AMAZING. I know I was apprehensive before about dating Jimin but OMG IT WAS SOOOO GOOD. He was such a gentleman and when we held hands I felt butterflies erupt and it just.. It felt so nice. Tonight literally couldn’t have go-

Dear Y/n’s Diary,

I promise to take good care of her. We had a great night and I plan on making her my girlfriend soon. Now if you excuse us, I need cuddles from her.

Jimin.

[dandy-writes]

Crowley x Reader - Chapter One

QUICK AN: The reader in this fic is portrayed as non-binary and throughout the story referred to using they/them pronouns. However, them being non-binary at all is only brought up once in the story, and as such I hope that readers of any gender and pronouns will be able to enjoy this story. Thanks, and I hope you all enjoy! :)

Candlelight flickered across the dimly lit library of the bunker. Standing at a table, on which was placed various objects -- a bowl of herbs, a piece of chalk, and a few burning sticks of incense -- were two men. One held a thick leather-bound book, the cover worn from years of use. He read from the book as the other man looked on, arms folded.

“Et ad congregandum, eos coram me.” The man finished reading in the ancient language, swiftly closing the book and looking up expectantly. There was only a moment of silent pause before a presence joined them in the room. The air became stuffy and charged with static electricity, the candles flickered in unison, and the temperature in the room dropped by a few degrees.

The cause of the sudden disturbance had appeared at the other side of the table, clad in a black three-piece suit. He had a short salt and pepper beard and polished shoes. “Hello, boys,” he said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

The man with folded arms replied. “We need to ask you about some demon activity over in Stockton.”

The newcomer sighed. “Of course you do. You do know you can just call me, right? There’s no need for this whole mess.” He gestured towards the table. “We could actually schedule for once, rather than just leave fate to decide whether you’re pulling me out of an important meeting or not.”

The other man set the book down on the table. “We don’t need any of your snark right now, Crowley. What we need is--”

He was cut off by the sound of a door opening and closing in the bunker, the noise accompanied by a voice. The disturbance came from behind the newcomer, causing him to turn around and for the attention of all three men to veer from the topic at hand. 

“God, the windchill out there is just awful,” The voice came, paired with the clamor of feet coming down the staircase from the main entrance to the bunker. Soon the source of the words came into view, standing at the top of the small flight of stairs leading down to the library. “Sam, I thought you said it was supposed to be nice…” The person paused, looking down at the scene before them, eyes lingering on the darkly-clothed man before their confused gaze turned to the two others. “I didn’t know we were having company.”

After an exchanged glance, the man who had just set down the tome strode around the table towards them. They walked down the stairs, just reaching the bottom as he carefully grabbed their arm and pulled them away from the newcomer, earning a perplexed glare.

“What are you--” They began.

“I thought you were going out on your walk,” The man whispered, brow furrowed.

“I was, but -- well, like I said when I came in, the windchill was…” They took a moment to reorient. “Sam, what’s going on?”

“Ahem.” They turned back to face the mystery man, who had just cleared his throat. “I don’t believe we’ve met.” He began to move towards them. “I--”

The man with folded arms interrupted. “Don’t take another step.”

He merely smirked. “Really, Dean. I’m not going to bite.” He turned his attention back to the stranger. “Not unless they want me to, at least.”

Despite Sam’s tightened grip on their arm, he was quickly shaken off as the person took a cautious step towards the strange man. Though their brows were knitted, they seemed unbothered by his blatant innuendo. “How did you know my pronouns?”

He seemed a little taken off-guard by their question, though clearly pleased at their approach. “It’s a demon thing, darling. Don’t worry about it.”

They paused, standing very still, mouth opened slightly. Quickly their eyes scanned over the table, taking in the sigil drawn onto the wood, before returning their focus to the “man” standing in front of them. They gulped. “Right.”

He smirked, putting out a hand. “Crowley, King of Hell, at your service.”

Hesitating momentarily, they put their hand in his. “Y/N.” Expecting a handshake, they blinked in surprise when the demon lifted their hand to his mouth and laid a light kiss on their knuckles.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” He said, still smiling.

“Oh, um. You too,” Y/N replied, face hot.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” Dean jumped in, clearly uncomfortable with the way things were going. Crowley released Y/N’s hand, letting them retreat slightly. “We didn’t summon you here to make pleasantries.”

“Ah, yes. Those rogue demons you mentioned.” Crowley said. “Care to elaborate on what exactly is so ‘rogue’ about them?”

“Tale as old as time,” Dean replied, unfolding his arms to rest his palms on the table. “Crossroad demons get greedy, start taking the souls of their victims long before they’re due. What do you know about this?”

Crowley sighed. “Nothing at all, Squirrel.”

“They said they were acting under you,” Y/N said.

The demon turned a little to face them, cocking his head and fixing them in his gaze. “Are you calling me a liar, darling?”

Y/N’s frown deepened. “No, I just… Well, I just figured that if I were in your shoes, and there were demons claiming to be mine and doing things that go against my principles as a leader… Well, I don’t know, I’d be kinda pissed, I guess.”

Crowley didn’t break eye contact with them, staring them down. Y/N blinked back at him, expression innocent. After a few seconds, the demon straightened up slightly. “I suppose that I can see where you’re coming from.” He returned his focus to Sam and Dean, who had been watching the interaction with concern. “Well. What is it you want from me, help with the hunt? I can check my calendar if you’ve got a date.”

“There’s no date yet, we don’t have enough information on the demons involved. We were hoping you’d be oh-so-kind as to provide a few helpful particulars.” Dean said, a mock smile growing on his face.

“I can go get the list of names we have so far,” Y/N cut in, seeming to notice the growing hostility. After a quick nod from Sam, they turned and went deeper into the library, soon hidden in the stacks.

“You didn’t tell me you recruited another hunter,” Crowley said quietly, glaring at the two men. “If we’re going to be working together, I’d like to know about that kind of stuff.”

“What are you, our boss?” Dean replied.

“Hey, you don’t need to worry about them, okay?” Sam said. “They’re not even a hunter really, more of the researching type.”

Crowley opened his mouth to respond when Y/N returned, holding an open notebook which they set down on the table near him.

“Here -- there’s not a lot, but it’s what we have so far.” They said, pointing at where four names were written in neat handwriting. The demon closed the distance between them, positioning himself so that he was looking over their shoulder, chest nearly touching their back. If Y/N at all noticed or was bothered by his proximity, it didn’t show.

“I can work with those,” Crowley said after a couple seconds of looking down at the paper. He stepped away slightly. “Thank you, kitten.” He quickly continued before anyone could respond to the nickname. “Is that all?”

The three hunters exchanged looks. “I mean,” Y/N said. “Unless you have any suggestions.” When Crowley’s only response was to tilt his head slightly, they continued nervously. “Just off the top of your head, I mean. Not to be rude. I know we called you, so it’s no problem if you don’t--”

“Check the crossroads in Stockton for any evidence of spellwork. I want to know how the traitors are redirecting the rituals so that they’re being called upon rather than my own crossroad demons.” He said, looking pointedly at Sam and Dean. “Call me when you get any leads.”

The two nodded, and with another flickering of the candles, the demon king was gone.

[syndianites]

The After; The Athar: Chapter Four

Chapter 4/?

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 [Here] - Chapter 5

AO3: This Chapter - Full Fic

Summary: Post Season 2, non-Mianitian Compliant. Wag escorts Martha to Jordan’s house and decides to have a day out with Sonja.

Relationships: Sparklington (end-game), Marthlington (temporarily), Sparkanite (Spark x Ianite) (past, mentioned), Motanite

Content Warnings: Death Mentions, Implied Depression, Implied PTSD, Self-Deprecation, Breaking up a Relationship (Marthlington)

AN: It’s Wednesday, totallyyyyyy. Just a little late haha, but here it is! Chapters 1-4 already written out. That means I actually need to finish chapter 5 and continue onward. I mentioned this before, but I’d been sitting on this since September of last year, and had chapter 4 done in... December? Of last year.

——————————————————————————————

“So, did you actually come to talk, or did you need something from me?” Jordan was looking towards the town now, legs crossed. With his arms splayed across the back of the couch, chin up, he looked like the perfect picture of nonchalance.

 Wag knew that that was far from correct.

 However, he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, drawing Jordan’s eye. “Well, I did actually come to see if you knew where Martha was, and if not Martha, Spark.”

 Jordan gave him a thoughtful frown.

 “Not that I didn’t want to talk to you,” Wag added in, “It’s just that I really need to see Martha. Rip the bandage off as soon as possible. I’m, uh. Breaking up with her.”

 Jordan’s face crumpled into a harsh discomfort, like someone had just doused his socks in water and told him all his other socks were missing.

 “Ah. That’s. Unfortunate?” He winces. “I’m sorry about your loss. Eventual loss. Yeah.”

 Wag shook his head, a smile playing at his lips. “She’s not dying, Jordan. I just realised that we- well, it didn’t matter what I realised. We’re better as just friends, if she’s okay with that.”

 Jordan nodded, lips pinched together. “I’m afraid I don’t recall where she was going today. Spark, however, should be at Town Hall handling some paperwork. She might be with him, might not. I’d ask him.”

 Getting up with a stretch, Wag replied, “Thanks. The faster I do this the better.”

 Jordan stood as well, following Wag to the front door. They stood there. Wag shuffled his feet. “I, uh. I’m not sure where the Town Hall is. Could you show me?”

 He had a fair idea, but not a sure one. The Town Hall was a building Wag often forgot about. But not because he didn't care to commit it to memory.

 To start, it looked like all the other buildings around it. Acacia based, a foundation of sandstone that peaked up from below the ground, and an easy, sloped thatch roof. It gave the buildings a log cabin feel, while still fitting in with the landscape. The edges were built with acacia logs to bring in a nice neutral gray which held it all together.

 Now, if it just looked like every other building that’d be fine. But it also had no marker to identify it as Town Hall. Or, rather, the marker it had was easily mistaken for something else- an open book with a quill. For example, it could be the symbol for a courthouse, or the symbol for a law firm. Or the Records Hall.

 Wag didn’t know where the Records Hall was either.

 Add in the fact that no one really went in there since the majority of citizens specialized in fishing and you have a place that is forgettable at best.

 That being said, Wag would rather have some company on his death march to breaking up with Martha. Using his unsureness of where, exactly, the Town Hall was would be a good excuse to keep talking to Jordan. At the least, it would help with his nerves.

 Jordan looked off to the side. “Isn’t it right next to-” He cut off. Thought for a second. “Yeah, it’d be better to just show you.”

 Wag smiled. He swept his hand towards the path and gave Jordan a shallow bow. “After you, my dear.”

 Shaking his head, Jordan began to lead the way, Wag trailing along just behind his shoulder.

 They descended the hill in comfortable silence. Jordan was clearly thinking about something, looking for a good moment to bring it up. Wag welcomed the change from thinking about his future.

 He side-eyed him. “Got something on your mind, my good fellow? Want to talk more about how the world has it out for us?”

 Jordan rolled his eyes. “No, I think that’s enough of that depressing topic for now.” A beat of silence. “I was just thinking-”

 “You’ve got to be careful with that.”

 “-Thinking about Tom.”

 Wag gasped. “Thinking about another man while we take such a romantic stroll together? How dare you.”

 “Yes, walking over to the Town Hall so you can talk to the man who looks like an older version of me and has a superiority complex is so romantic” Jordan wrinkled his nose. It’s not like he’d know much about romantic. Between Jordan and anyone else that was ever interested in him, the other had done more work. Jordan’s idea of romance was probably ‘let’s build some complex contraption together’.

 “We could always detour,” Wag suggested, lightly elbowing Jordan’s arm. “Take it across the beach, pick up shells that we’d think the other would like, hold hands and go barefoot to walk in the waves. Call it a date.”

 “I beach you it’d be a good time, but I’ll have to wave the idea off. I do have things I want to get done today.” Jordan turned to him with a glimmer in his eyes and a bashful, yet impish smile.

 “Wow.” Wag blinked a few times. “That was forced and you know it. ‘I beach you’?” He fake gagged. “So cheesy.”

 Jordan turned away with a huff.

 Wait.

 “Oh, my gosh, wave was also a pun. That was a double pun. I don’t know whether to be impressed or appalled.”

 “Thank you, I’ll be taking cash donations for my genius.”

 “I’ll be taking cash compensation for having to hear that with my own two ears.”

 Jordan laughed, a lovely, quiet sound. It was breathy, and just off of squeaky, but it made Wag’s ears burn.

 Weird.

 “I’m afraid,” Jordan followed up, “That we have a no refund policy. Once heard you can’t get your investment back. It was on page 8 of the contract you signed upon meeting me: ‘You accept any and all amazing, lovely puns that come out of Jordan’s mouth.’”

 “Wow. 8 pages? I don’t remember 8 pages. What I remember was, ‘Hello, I am most likely going to be inside, at home, for most of our friendship. And this is to say I’m not avoiding you, I’m preparing the most intricate, strong things imaginable for when shit inevitably goes to hell.’ That’s not even a page, it was a sheet of paper torn in half.” Was that overly accurate about Jordan? No. But the dig was worth it.

 Jordan shook his head, indignant, “I don’t stay inside that much! How dare you assume I’d be able to stay cooped up inside for so long. Clearly, if you wanted to be precise, I would have written ‘I’ll most likely be working on cool and awesome things that make me super prepared to help My Lady in any way possible.’ Inside versus outside means nothing in that regard.”

 “Ah, my bad. Let me rephrase that, ‘I am so loyal to Ianite and her existence that I will breathe balance, eat balance, and become balance. People will look at me and think ‘Wow, that guy sure is the epitome of balance. Almost enough to rival Ianite herself.’, except I’ll just look cool and be a good champion.”

 “Ok, ok, let’s back up here.” Jordan turned to look at Wag. To look up at Wag, more specifically. Shorty. “Going that far makes me sound like Spark, and I am nowhere near as bad as him. Like, c’mon, he was so dedicated to Ianite he married her.”

 They were in front of the Town Hall now.

 Jordan lowered his voice, like Spark could hear him. “He honestly needs a hobby.”

 Wag shook his head, stifling a laugh.

 “Well,” Jordan’s voice rose back to a regular volume. “Looks like we’re here.”

 “Looks so.”

 They stalled for a second.

 “I better get going,” Jordan started. “If you ever need anything, you know where to find me. I’ll help you with anything.” He side-eyed Wag, a joking look in his eye. “As long as it’s reasonable.”

 “That means a lot to me.” Wag smiled. “I promise that my next visit will actually be for you. It’s only fair, especially since you’re a dear friend of mine.”

 With a huff and a returned smile, Jordan pushed him along. “You don’t have to promise that.”

 “I want to. Since it’s you.”

 Wag turned and began walking up the steps into the building.

 Jordan felt his heart beat just a little faster. He tried to convince himself that that didn’t mean as much to him as his heart said.

 It really wasn’t that deep.

 ---

 The Town Hall was one of the first non-residential buildings placed in the town. In the time that they’d all been gone, there had been some remodelling to the valley.

 The first, most prominent, in Wag’s opinion, change was the removal of the Dianite statue head thing. If it was still there, Wag would not have built his tower right next to that. No siree.

 The rest of the changes were fairly mild: the paths around were fiddled with to give access to the beach and town buildings, the farms were cleaned up, and so on.

 Now, the Town Hall was delicately placed between the farms and the Tea Pot. The Tea Pot which was left standing. In all the revisions that were made to the land, someone looked at the Tea Pot, looked at the space it took up, and decided it should remain.

 There was a goddamn Tea Pot next to Town Hall.

 And Wag still struggled to remember where the Town Hall was.

 Needless to say, Wag head inside, giving a wave to the secretary. While there was no official “Mayor” of the town, there was a general administrative body made up of some of the townsfolk. It was a democratic setup, which leaned towards a more free-market, socialist style of living.

 Quite the turn around from Ruxomar.

 Spark, it seemed, had either learned from the eventual disaster that was Ruxomar- not that he was there to see its final collapse- or wanted a change of pace, seeing as he founded Dagrun under a monarchy. To be fair, there weren’t many people around to start a kingdom.

 After Wag exchanged conversation with the secretary and was waved towards the back, he found Spark. His office was small with a full window alongside one wall and a desk with neatly organized papers set up in multiple stacks. He sat behind the desk, pondering over a sheet laid before him, reading it with careful eyes.

 He looked up at Wag’s entrance, a polite smile forming on his face. “What brings my daughter’s favorite wizard around today?” Spark stood, moving around the desk to offer a handshake in greeting.

 “Oh, only Martha’s? Not yours?” He took the hand, trying to give a firm shake despite his nerves. “I came here to see if you knew of Martha’s whereabouts. I have something I need to talk to her about.”

 Spark took a step back. “Ah, she just stepped out to grab some records from the Record Hall. She’ll be a few minutes at least.” He moved back to his desk, motioning for Wag to sit in one of the guest chairs.

 Wag sank into it quickly.

 If Spark could see he was nervous, he said nothing. But Wag was sure it radiated off of him, from the way his fingers drummed against his legs, to how he would look at the door every so often, to how he kept shifting in his chair. He’d thought the walk and quiet pondering over the town’s brief history would help.

 It didn’t.

 Still, they sat in silence. Outward silence. His thoughts fought to be heard, to break out from the delicate prison he’d pushed them into when he steeled himself to potentially see Martha here, next to Spark.

 “Can I ask you something?” Wag blurted out. Spark looked up. “If you’re- if you’re not busy, that is.”

 He set aside his pen- something he’d carried from Ruxomar- and gave him an inviting wave.

 “What’s the difference between loving someone and being devoted to them?”

 Wag bit his lip as Spark mulled over an answer.

 “That depends,” he said, after a moment. “What kind of love and what kind of devotion?”

 Wag could see in his eyes that Spark knew what he meant, but was giving him space to elaborate on his issue.

  He has to know, right? What I’m about to do.  

 “Devotion to,” Wag took a breath, “To your goddess versus the love you have for her.”

 Spark stretched and sat back in his seat, relaxed. “It’s based in different things. Devotion is based on a shared belief, a shared idea. I followed,” Spark swallowed hard, “My goddess because I, too, believed in the balance she stood for, and the peace it upheld.”

 He swiveled the chair half-way around to gaze out the window. “I loved her because of who she was. Her laugh, her smile, her energy and joy and spirit and how she’d get that sparkle in her eye when she’d see me, a mix between something soft and something loving and-”

 He clears his throat, clearly holding back emotion. “I loved her because she was everything right in the world. In my world.”

 Wag did not mean to open up something this heavy for Spark. But he wasn’t done with his questions.

 “Did being in a relationship affect how you followed her?” He shoved his hands underneath his thighs to stop from fidgeting.

 “Yes. And no.” Taking a moment to compose himself, Spark swept his eyes across the landscape, the solid silhouette of Jerry’s Tree in the background. “After getting together, I was devoted to her in the sense of any typical boyfriend; I doted on her, did romantic things with her, the whole shebang. In terms of being her follower and champion, I knew when to be professional and to act upon our shared belief system. It took practice to not let one bleed into the other, but I made it work.”

 Though Spark wasn’t looking, Wag nodded.

 “How.” He cleared his throat. “What would be the best way to... separate that? To pull apart your devotion and your relationship so they don’t affect each other?”

 Spark turned back to him, his figure highlighted by the glow from outdoors, creating a regal picture of a tired, broken old man. “Separate them? You don’t. You can’t. It’s impossibly hard to have the maturity to stop your feelings from changing how one part of your relationship goes.”

 “To be a lover means to be ready to defend your partner at all costs, just as you would a champion. To be a champion means to love your goddess to the ends of the world, just as you would a lover. Devotion and love are centered from different places, but once your feelings in them cross they cannot be unlinked.”

 “But they’re not the same.” Now Spark was starting to get confusing and muddled to Wag. “

 You just said so! Loving someone can come in different forms. You can love your goddess and not be in love with her.”

 “But you still love her, regardless of which side you love through. Champion, partner, it's all love. If you let them slide together, they die together. What’s the difference? What creates that gap?” Spark had a glint in his eyes, now, something removed from the quiet, tender sadness from before.

 “There’s a big difference!” Wag freed his hands to gesture wildly. “To love your partner is to cherish every moment with them, to be apart and still, somewhere in the back of your mind, be thinking of them. You see sweets, or goodies, or just nice things and think about if they’d like them, or you see the soft purple of lilac and think of their hair, or wander past a library and think of spells and sitting up late at night pouring through books. Or-”

 He threw his arms up. “Loving your goddess is different, I think. I’ve never followed one before this. I followed a god without any care for that god. I didn’t even really follow him, we followed something adjacent to him.”

 “And,” Wag breathed, “loving your goddess is like seeing the value in what they preach. Like.” He was frustrated now. Didn’t he just tell him that love and devotion came from different things? If that was the case, how did being a champion in a relationship with your goddess stop that from being different things? “Like how you devote yourself to an idea!”

 Spark raised an eyebrow. “So? You devoted yourself to the idea of being in a relationship with her, you crossed that divide and filled it in.”

 “But I didn’t! I just built a bridge over it and tried to figure out which side I was on.”

 “Which side are you on?”

 “I don’t know!” Wag was starting to breathe heavily. It was like every moment he had built up his confidence to cut it off with Martha was being uprooted like grass in a plowed field. “I just don’t want to be in the middle anymore.”

 Spark watched him silently. He wasn’t going to give Wag a break this time.

 “It’s terrible.” Wag continued, quieter. “Being stuck between the desire to stick by her side and protect her and the desire to be right beside her and love her, and hold her, and be the one person who can always make her laugh.”

 He looked away, towards a wall with an older oil painting. “But that’s the thing. I don’t have to choose. We chose on our own without knowing. We drifted away, lost to our own problems and grief. The bridge back to her side is broken and torn and I don’t think I have the strength left in me to repair it.”

 “Don’t have the strength, or are scared to?”

 “Both! Neither? Fuck, I just.” Wag shook his head, trying to rattle his thoughts enough to make sense. “I can’t promise that if I do fix things they won't break again, weather down and fall away under my negligence. And I’m afraid of what would happen if I let things get that bad again.”

 “Fear is natural.” Spark eyed him up and down. “But you can’t let it get in the way of your life.”

 “It’s not. I swear it isn’t. But we feel fear for a reason and that’s to stop us from making poor decisions.”

 “But sometimes fear is a knee-jerk reaction, what you feel when you’re uncertain or when things change around you and you’re not ready for it.”

 “I’m not,” Wag whispered. He cleared his throat and tried again, louder. “I’m not ready for change. And that’s ok. It’d be better to take a step back and see what I need to do to be ready and to adapt, rather than to try and go arm deep into whatever mess comes my way because I’m afraid of losing everything I love.”

 “Even if that means losing your relationship with Martha?”

 “I’d rather be friends than nothing at all.” And that was the truth. For all he cared about her romantically, he also cared about her as a friend. As someone who’d been through hell and back with her. You don’t just leave people like that behind.

 Spark nodded. “Then you know what you need to do.”

 Now that wasn’t what he was expecting to hear. “Wait.”  Did I just get lead on? “Was that whole conversation just a way to make me figure my shit out?”

 “I wouldn’t say it like that,” Spark was smoothing out the papers on his desk. “But yes, I did pull the conversation in a way that made you think about your decision. I wouldn’t contradict my own words without purpose.”

 “I doubt anyone does.” Wag rolled his eyes. “So you approve? Of me choosing to break up with Martha?”

 Spark looked up at Wag, already having grabbed his pen. There was a beat of silence. Wag started to sweat.

 After all of that, surely he does?  

 Silence.

  Right?  

 He felt like a kid that got sent to the principal’s office. Getting stared down by the head honcho that doesn’t want to see you in front of them but also doesn’t want to let you off easy.

 Still, he was scrutinized.

 Holy shit man.  

 Finally- finally!- Spark looked back down.

 “I’m impartial,” he said at last. “To be honest, it’s not my issue. While I do want the best for my daughter, she is a grown woman. You are a grown man. My approval shouldn’t matter here.”

 Wag relaxed. He had a point.

 Spark shook his head, signing off on a document and moving it aside. “I had the same doubts about my relationships when I was your age. That was before-” he coughed. “-you know, and when I still fancied this lovely lady from my hometown. We’d been going strong for a while, but I was dedicated to my faith and she was not interested in faith at all.”

 He tsked. “We wouldn’t have worked out at all, no matter how much I cared for her. Still kept in touch until,” Spark gave a pointed look around, “This happened.”

 “Okay, grandpa.” Ah, yes, he definitely wanted to hear about Spark’s love life.

 A thought struck him.

 “Now wait a second, when you were ‘my age’?” Wag glanced over Spark. “I’m older than you.”

 Spark chuckled. “Thanks for the compliment, but I’m sure we can both see I’m older than you.” He tilted his head to the side. “See that gray? That’s age and stress. Enjoy your youth while you have it.

  “I’m a wizard.”

 A narrowing of the eyes.

 “I’ve been a wizard.”

  He sat back in his chair.

 “I’ve been a wizard for a long time.”  

 Spark turned his gaze back to his documents. “You must be pulling my leg.”

 “No, sir, I am not.” Wag was fidgeting again, this time bored. “I think I’m a little over a century old? Maybe more.”

 “I can understand you being a wizard, but there’s no way minor magic- non-divine magic- could extend your life.”

 “I killed a god to become a wizard.”

 Wag stared Spark down with a straight deadpan. Spark’s mouth worked at a response.

 He’d never get one.

 “So I didn’t find any proof of purchase document for Lichens- ah, hello Wag.” Martha stopped dead in the doorway, face stuck between surprised, pleasant, and a flicker of discomfort. “To what do we owe the pleasure of a visit?”

 Well. It seemed Martha found him.

 Now that they were both staring at him, Wag felt far too exposed. He tugged at his hood. It was already as low as it could go on his head. That didn’t make him feel any better.

 So he opted for a smile instead. “I needed to talk to you about something Martha.”

 She exchanged a glance with Spark, who had a thoughtful look in his eyes. It was the kind of look that said they’d talked about him before. And, based on the look he gave Wag in turn, it was not a very positive kind of talking.

 Oh dear fuck.

 Martha gave him a shy smile. “Can it wait? I need to wrap this up real fast. Then, after that, I should be free for a bit.”

 It couldn’t. If it did, it would never happen. Wag knew it wouldn’t. From the way his heart stuttered to the way his hands shook, he knew that if he gave himself the time to back out he’d take it. And as much as he didn’t want to make an ass out of himself by saying no, wouldn’t trapping them both in this be worse? Keeping the two of them together to pretend that things were going well?

 No, it couldn’t wait.

 The words, however, stuck in his throat. He shook his head. Took a breath. “I’m sorry, it really can’t.”

 Martha took it in stride. “Alright. This must be important to you, let me set this down and I’ll be right out.” She motioned him to wait outside the door.

 Wag took the opportunity. Once safely in the hallway, alone, he ran his hands over his face and through his hair.

 Calm down.  

 It wasn’t like he was signing his life away. Or like he was telling Martha he killed her dad. They were just breaking up.

 But it felt like it was more than that. It felt like he was betraying her, like all those promises he made were for nothing. Hadn’t he said he’d follow her to the end of the line? That he’d be her champion? What would become of that if he broke up with her?

 Where did devotion and love meet and where did they separate?

 Wag wasn’t sure anyone knew. It was a challenge to be in love with a goddess.

 The sound of the door swinging open caught his attention. Martha stepped out, smoothing her shirt out. She caught his eye and sent him a smile. He gave a shaky one back.

 “Gee, Waggles,” That nickname hit something soft in his chest, “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were going to break up with me.”

 Fucking shit.  

 He sat silent as his mind fell down a flight of stairs.

 Martha caught on. “You, you are, aren’t you?”

 Her eyes were wide, now, and Wag wasn’t sure how to follow that up. This was not going as he’d planned. Except, he hadn’t really planned it so much as made a vague idea about how he was going to.

 Get your shit together man, now's the time.  

 “Yes.” His voice strained and he cleared his throat. “I am.”

 Before she could get in a word, he pushed onward. “And it’s not because I don’t love you. I do. I love you so, so much. I’d follow you to the ends of the world, spread your name as your champion until my voice ran out, I would-” He stopped himself. This was supposed to be a break up. “I would do a lot for you.”

 He took a deep breath.

 “But I’m not what you need.”

 His heart was free falling, bouncing between his hard and fast love for Martha and his desire to be loved. Between knowing they weren’t good for each other- not anymore- and wishing that they could be.

 “What are you talking about?” Martha’s voice, though she kept her volume level, was thick with emotion. “Of course you are. I love you so much Wag, what would I do without you?”

 “I’m not!” He swallowed heavily. “You don’t love me the same. I don’t love you the same. Haven’t you seen it? How we never see each other? How we can’t be around each other without walking on eggshells? How it feels like there’s someone missing that I could never replace?”

 Martha had loved Steve so much. And she’d loved Wag. But after everything, he’d realized that they’d grown apart. That for all they loved each other, they didn’t.

 Wag took a brave moment to look Martha in the eyes. Her tears were held back by pure willpower and rapid blinking. Her mouth was set in a thin line. For all she was trying to keep her cool it was breaking at the seams.

 She was quiet. Wag could practically feel the storm of thought and emotion rolling off of her. A whisper. “You’re right.”

 He held his breath.

 “You’re right. You can’t replace him. No one can. But you don’t have to. Why can’t I just love you and him both? What’s wrong about that?”

 No, no, no. That wasn’t his point at all.

 “You can.” His voice was just as low. “Of course you can, there’s nothing wrong with that. But you’re letting your love for him get in the way of us. Your grief, your longing, your bone deep aching for him is all you see when you’re with me, isn’t it?”

 “No!” Martha looked away. “Yes. Kind of. No. I don’t look at you and see Steve. I look at you and see you and I think about how much it would hurt to lose you. Like I lost Steve. How much you mean to me, how much he meant to me.”

 She had closed her eyes now, putting her hand over her mouth.

 “I miss him so much. Sometimes it’s all I can think about. There are days were I long to go home and see him, to be able to hold him again. But I remember that he’s not there. The thought of going home without him feels awful.”

 Wag was torn, again. He felt awful to make Martha talk about this, to make her relive every time she missed Steve, mourned Steve. But on the other, this was where they were falling apart.

 “I’m not innocent in this, I must admit.” He started slowly. She looked back at him, tears on the verge of falling. “I feel like I’ve lost everything. My old life, my fellow wizards, the world I used to know.” Wag couldn’t meet her eyes on the next sentence. “My powers. They haven’t come back.”

 “And I’ve drawn away from everyone and everything. Even you. And as easy as it would be to blame you for us falling apart, that’s not fair to you or to your grief. But we can’t keep killing ourselves like this.”

 Martha had wrapped her arms around herself now. She pushed her chin up. “You’re right. Again. This dance we’ve been performing, it’s gone on long enough hasn’t it?” A wet laugh. “We can fix this now, fix,” she gestured between them, “Us. Now that we’ve pulled the facade away. That’s the first step, right? Taking down the act.”

 Wag shook his head. He wanted to. So badly. To let this be the start of something better, to remake what they had. But the roots were rotten, not just the tree. Even if they cut off every dead branch, they’d only die out again.

 “I’m sorry. I can’t. I’m not ready to try again.” His voice wavered. If he could cry he would.

 All he had were tears of blood, ever streaming.

 She was quiet. Then she bowed her head. “I understand. And I’d need time, too, if we were to try again.”

 The conversation fell off, but it didn’t feel resolved. Wag pushed up the energy to ask one last question.

 “Will I- will I still be your champion?” It was a dangerous question. And yet, still not the one he needed to ask.

 Martha appraised him. “I don’t know. I’m not sure how to deal with my champion being a recent ex.” Nonetheless, she gave him a watery smile. “I’ll let you know when I make a decision.”

 Wag nodded. Already, she was piecing herself back together. Faster than he ever could.

 She went to turn away, opening her mouth to say one last thing, but Wag interrupted her. “Will we still be friends after this?”

 A laugh, real this time. “Of course.” She shook her head fondly. “Goodbye Wag. Until we meet again.”

 “Until we meet again.”

 Martha made her way back inside, most likely about to tell Spark the news.

 He felt detached from the world, thoughts echoing farther and farther away with each step Martha took. His eyes tracked her, watching how her hair moved, the grace in her stride- even has her body shook with hurt. Her neatly pressed and clean clothes, changed up from what she had worn in Ruxomar. A breathable, white silk long-sleeved shirt and dark leggings.

 From the way her fingers curved in an elegant arch against her thighs to how her shoulders had slumped ever so slightly before the door closed behind her. In his head he could see her eyes sparkling, a lovely lavender to match her hair. He could hear her laugh, her voice, see her radiant smile that he always sought to draw out.

 Wag could feel the floor disappear out from under him, feel himself sinking into the void. Empty, empty, empty. A chapter of his life was over, now. And it was by his own hand. For all he had feared change, he had caused it.

 Was this better or worse?

 A quiet, muted drip caught his attention. The world blurred back in. Wag looked down. A tiny, pink-ish speck on the floor. Another joined it with a plop. A shaking hand rose to his cheeks. Still bloody, but when he pulled it away it was also pink-ish. Runnier.

 Tears.

 He wanted to laugh. Instead, he strode out of the Town Hall, finding the familiar path home in a daze. A pink trail of bloody tears followed him.

 He was going to miss her.

[artificialqueens]

Ungodly Hour, Chapter Two (Jaida x Nicky) - Scarlet Bloo

A/N: Thank you so so much to anyone who’s commented on this fic, either here, or on ao3! It really means a lot to me and is my biggest encouragement. This chapter, Jaida comes home to an unexpected visitor.

Summary: Nicky is crushing hard on a bubbly soccer playing sorority sister. It’s unusual for her to ever be into anyone like this, and all she wants is to be on her radar. Popular girl Jaida is captain of the basketball team, and while she’s usually smart, French just isn’t her forte. Lucky for her, Nicky is a native speaker, so she makes it her mission to get her as her tutor.

Jaida was pretty sure her roommates were wasted when she walked into the living room after study group. On the coffee table sat two shot glasses, and two rather large bottles of cheap prosecco. Heidi and Jackie were battling each other in a heated game of Shinobi Striker (Jackie had obviously been roped into it by Heidi) their gazes glued to the flat screen as they furiously clicked their controllers. Heidi’s gaze shifted slightly when she noticed Jaida in the doorway, and her split second of distraction cost her.

“Fuck yes! !” Jackie crowed as she won the game.

“Aw, for fuck’s sake!” Heidi leveled a dark glare at Jaida. “What the hell, Jai? I just lost because of you.”

Jaida didn’t answer, because now she was distracted—by the half naked make out session happening in the corner of the room. Akeria was at it again. Some guy Jaida had never met before - bare-chested and barefoot, was sprawled in the armchair while Akeria, in nothing but a lacy black bra and booty shorts sat astride him and grinded against his crotch.

Akeria gave a slightly awkward giggle. “Jaida! Where’ve you been?” she slurred.

She went back to kissing the guy before Jaida could answer the drunken question.

For some reason, Akeria liked to hook up everywhere but her bedroom. Seriously. Every time one of the other girls turned around, she was in the midst of some form of debauchery. On the kitchen counter, the living room couch, the dining room table—girl’s gotten it on in every inch of the off-campus house the four girls shared. But she was completely unapologetic about it, and Jaida respected that.

“Girl, I’ve been texting you for the past hour,” Heidi informed her

Her tiny frame hunched forward as she poured herself another glass of prosecco. Heidi might’ve been short, but she was an excellent dribbler, one of the best Jaida had ever played with, and also the best friend she’d ever had.

“Seriously, where the hell have you been?” Heidi grumbled.

“Study group.” Jaida grabbed another glass out the cupboard and poured her own drink. “What’s this surprise you kept blabbing about?”

She could always tell how drunk Heid was based on the grammar of her texts. And tonight she must be shit-faced, because Jaida had to go full-on Sherlock to decrypt her messages. Suprz meant surprise. Gyabh had taken longer to decode, but she thought it meant get your ass back here? But who knows with Heidi.

From her perch on the couch, she grinned so broadly it’s a wonder her jaw didn’t snap off. She jerked her thumb at the ceiling and said, “Go upstairs and see for yourself.”

Jaida narrowed her eyes. “Why? Who’s up there?”

Heidi giggled. “If I told you, then it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re up to something?”

“Damn,” Akeria piped up. “You’ve got some major trust issues, Jai.”

“Says the girl who has had many one night stands in my bed.”

Akeria grinned. “Aw, come on, you love me really.”

“Come on,” Heidi groaned. “Just go upstairs. Trust me, you’ll thank us for it later.”

The knowing look they exchanged eased Jaida’s suspicion, even if it was just a little bit. She stole another glass of prosecco on her way out. She didn’t’t drink much during the season, but Coach had given the team the week off to study for midterms and they still had two days of freedom left. Her teammates seemed to have no problem going out every night then playing flawlessly the next day. But Jaida? Pres alone gave her a rip-roaring headache the morning after. Once she was back to a six-days-a-week practice schedule, her  alcohol consumption would drop to the usual one/five limit. One drink on practice nights, five after a game. No exceptions. She planned on taking full advantage of the time she had left.

The captain headed upstairs to her room. The master bedroom. She was not above playing the I’m-your-captain card to snag it and it was worth the argument her teammates put up. Private bathroom, baby.

Her door was ajar, a sight that snapped her right back into suspicion mode. She warily peered up at the frame to make sure there wasn’t a bucket of blood up there, then gave the door a tiny shove. It gave way and she inched through it, fully prepared for an ambush.

She got one.

Except it was more of a visual ambush, because damn, the girl on her bed looked like she stepped out of a Victoria’s Secret catalog.

“Took you long enough.” Dahlia shot Jaida a sexy smile that said you’re about to get lucky, baby girl. “I was giving you five more minutes before I took off.”

“I made it just in time then.” Jaida’s gaze swept over her drool-worthy outfit, and then she drawled, “Aw, babe, is that all for me?”

Her brown eyes darkened seductively. “You know it, baby.”

Jaida was well aware that she and Dahlia sounded like characters from a cheesy porno. But come on, when a sapphic woman walks into her bedroom and finds a woman who looked like that? She was willing to reenact any trashy scene she wanted.

Dahlia and Jaida first hooked up over the summer, out of convenience more than anything else because they both happened to be in the area during the break. They hit the bar a couple times, one thing led to another, and the next thing Jaida knew she was fooling around with a hot sorority girl. But it fizzled out before midterms started, and aside from a few flirtly texts here and there, she hadn’t seen Dahlia until now.

“I figured you might want to have some fun before practice starts up again,” she said, her manicured fingers toying with the tiny blue bow in the center of her bra.

“You figured right.”

A smile curved her lips as she rose to her knees. Her tits were practically pouring out of the lace. She crooked a finger at Jaida. “C’mere.”

“I think you’re a tad overdressed,” she remarked, then tugged on the zipper of Jaida’s jeans and a moment later she too was standing only in lace underwear. Dahlia peppered Jaida’s neck and breasts with kisses and Jaida sighed in satisfaction. Nothing felt better than this. Nope, she was wrong. Dahlia’s tongue came into play, and holy shit, it was even better.

Around an hour later, Dahlia snuggled up beside Jaida and rested her head on her chest. Both pairs of lingerie were strewn on the bedroom floor. The cuddling made Jaida apprehensive, but she couldn’t exactly shove her away and demand she hit the road, not when she clearly put a lot of effort into this seduction. But that worried her too. Dahlia’s next words validated her uneasy thoughts.

“I missed you, baby.”

Jaida’s first thought was shit.

Her second thought was why?

Because in all the time they’d been hooking up, Dahlia hadn’t made a single effort to get to know her. If they weren’t  having sex or making out, she just spoke non-stop about herself. Jaida didn’t think she’d asked her a personal question about herself since they’d met.

“Uh…”  she struggled for words, any sequence of them that didn’t consist of I, miss, you, and too. “I’ve been busy. You know, midterms.”

“Obviously. We go to the same college. I was studying, too.” There was an edge to her tone now. “Did you miss me?”

What was she supposed to say to that? She wasn’t going to lie, because that would only lead her on. But she couldn’t be a bitch about it and admit she hadn’t even crossed her mind since the last time they had hooked up.

Dahlia sat up and narrowed her eyes. “It’s a yes or no question, Jaida. Did. You. Miss. Me.”

Jaida’s gaze darted to the window. She was on the second floor and actually contemplating jumping out the  window. That was how badly she wanted to avoid this conversation.

But her silence spoke volumes, and suddenly Dahlia flew off the bed, her black hair whipping in all directions as she scrambled for her clothes. “Oh my God. You are such fucking bitch! You don’t care about me at all, do you, Jaida?”

Jaida got up and made a beeline for her discarded panties. “I do care about you,” she protested. “But…”

Dahlia angrily shoved her panties on. “But what?”

“But I thought we were clear about what this was. I don’t want anything serious.” Jaida shot her a pointed look. “I told you that from the start.”

Dahlia’s expression softened as she bit her lip. “I know, but…I just thought…”

Jaida knew exactly what she thought—that she’d fall madly in love with her, and their casual hookup would transform into the fucking Notebook.

“Basketball is my entire life,” she said apologetically. “I practice six days a week, play twenty games a year—more if we make it to the post-season. I don’t have time for a girlfriend, Dahlia. And you deserve a hell of a lot more than I can give you.”

Unhappiness clouded her eyes. “I don’t want a casual fling anymore. I want to be your girlfriend.”

Another why almost flew out of Jaida, but she bit her tongue. If she’d shown any interest in her outside the carnal sense, she might believe her, but the fact that she hadn’t made Jaida wonder if the only reason she wanted a relationship with her was because she was some kind of status symbol to her.

She swallowed her frustration and offered another awkward apology. “I’m sorry. But that’s where I’m at right now.”

As Jaida zipped up her jeans, Dahlia refocused her attention on getting her clothes on. Though clothes was a bit of a stretch—all she was sporting was lingerie and a trench coat, which explained why Heidi and Jackie knew exactly what would happen when she went upstairs.

“I can’t see you anymore,” she finally said, her gaze finding Jaida’s. “If we keep doing…this…I’ll only get more attached.”

The taller girl couldn’t argue with that, so she didn’t. “We had fun, though, right?”

After a beat, she smiled. “Yeah, we had fun.”

Dahlia bridged the distance between the two of them and leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss Jaida. She kissed her back, but not with the same degree of passion as before. She kept it light. Polite. The fling had run its course, and she wasn’t about to lead her on again.

“With that said…” Her brown eyes twinkled mischievously. “Let me know if you change your mind about the girlfriend thing.”

“You’ll be the first person I call,” Jaida promised.

“Good.”

She smacked a kiss on the captain’s cheek and walked out the door, leaving her to marvel over how easy that went. Jaida had been steeling herself for a fight, but aside from that initial burst of expected anger, Dahlia had accepted the situation like a pro.

A hookup always stirred up her appetite, so she headed downstairs in search of food, and was happy to find there was still leftover rice and fried chicken courtesy of Jackie or Akeria, who were the resident chefs seeing as she and Heidi couldn’t boil water without burning it. She settled at the kitchen table shoving a piece of chicken into her mouth just as Heidi strolled in wearing nothing but her bra and knickers.

She raised a brow when she spotted Jaida. “Hey. I didn’t think I’d see you again tonight. Figured you’d be VBF.”

“VBF?” she asked between mouthfuls. Heidi liked to make up acronyms in the hopes that her friends would start to use them as slang, but half the time Jaida had no idea what she was babbling about.

Heidi grinned. “Very busy fucking.”

Jaida rolled her eyes and ate a forkful of rice.

“Seriously, sororitiy’s  gone already?”

“Yup.” Jaida chewed before continuing. “She knows the score.” The score being, no girlfriends and definitely no sleepovers.

Heidi rested her forearms on the counter, her brown eyes gleaming as she changed the subject. “I can’t fucking wait for the St. Matthews’s game this weekend. Did you hear? Cracker’s suspension is over.”

That got Jaida’s attention. “No shit. She’s playing on Saturday?”

“Sure is.” Heidi’s expression turned downright gleeful. “I’m gonna enjoy seeing her face when we win!”

Brianna Cracker was Matthews’s star point guard and a complete piece of shit human being. The girl had a sadistic streak that she was not afraid to unleash on the court, and when ther teams faced off in the pre-season, she sent one of the freshman girls to the emergency room with a broken arm. Hence her three game suspension, though if it were up to Jaida, the girl would’ve been slapped with a lifetime ban from college basketball.

“You’re gonna beat her, I’ll be right there with you,”Jaida promised.

“I’m holding you to that. Oh, and next week we’ve got Kressley heading our way.”

Jaida really should’ve paid more attention to her schedule. Kressley College was number two in the area (second to Charles, of course) and their matchups were always nail-biters.

It suddenly dawned on Jaida that if she didn’t ace the French redo, she wouldn’t be on the court for the Matthews game.

“Fuck,” she mumbled.

Heidi swiped a piece of chicken off Jaida’s plate and popped it into her mouth. “What?”

She hadn’t told her teammates about her grade situation yet because she’d been hoping her midterm grade wouldn’t hurt her too bad, but now it looked like fessing up was unavoidable.

So with a sigh, she told Heidi about her F in French and what it could mean for the team.

“Drop the course,” she said instantly.

“Can’t. I missed the deadline.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

The girls exchanged a glum look, and then Heidi flopped down on the seat beside Jaida and rested her chin on her hand. “Then you gotta shape up.. Study your titties off and ace this motherfucker. We need you, Jai.”

“I know.” the captain gripped her fork in frustration, then put it down, her appetite vanishing. This was her first year as captain, which was a major honor considering she was only a junior. She was supposed to follow in my predecessor’s footsteps and lead her team to another national championship, but how the hell was she meant to do that if she wasn’t on the court with them?

“I’ve got a tutor lined up,” She assured her teammate. “She’s a frickin’ genius.”

“Good. Pay her whatever she wants. I’ll chip in if you want.”

Jaida couldn’t help but grin. “Wow. You’re offering to part with all your sweet, sweet cash? You must really want me to play.”

“Damn straight. It’s all about the dream, bitch. You and me going pro, remember?”

Jaida had to admit, it was a damn nice dream. It was what she and Heidi had been talking about since they were assigned as roommates in freshman year. There was no doubt in Jaida’s mind that she’d go pro after she graduated. No doubt about Heidi getting drafted, either. The girl may have been short but she was faster than lightning and a goddamn beast on the court.

“Get that fucking grade up, Jai,” she ordered. “Otherwise I’ll get Jackie and Kiki to help me kick your ass.”

“Coach will kick it harder.” Jaida mustered up a smile. “Don’t worry, I’m on it.”

“Good.” Heidi stole another piece of chicken before wandering out of the kitchen.

Jaida scarfed down the rest of her food, then headed back upstairs to find her phone. It was time to ramp up the pressure on Nicky-not-with-an-S.

[itslight-ishred]

Valentine’s Day Dance

Okay, so I’m a couple hours late on this, but I made it through all the distractions to finally bring you my first completed fic in over a year! This is my gift to @mlm-benvolio​ for the RvB Valentine’s Day gift exchange and first time posting one of my works to Tumblr. Enjoy. (will fix formatting if needed) @rvbgiftexchange Ship(s): Grimmons w/background Docnut and Locoboose and mentioned Tuckington 1,800+ words    "Dude, if you don't ask him out, I'm not talking to you ever again."        The lanky red-head gave out a sharp, fake gasp at those words, closing his locker and holding the non-robotic hand to his chest and faking a hurt expression. "You wouldn't. Who else would I talk to?"        "Wouldn't I?" This led to a full two minute stare-down between them both before a taller boy came by and picked up his older brother, squeezing him tight.     "Tucker! I just asked Loco to the Valentine's dance!"        "Okay, if Caboose can ask Loco, you can totally ask Dex," Lavernius gasped out, struggling to get out of his adopted brother's tight grasp. "Seriously, though, what's taking you so long? We all know you like him. Well, except maybe Dex himself."    

   Slinging his bag onto his shoulder, Richard just thought this over a bit as the three headed for the student parking lot. Passing through the commons, they noticed Franklin hugging Frank tight, but not nearly as tight as Michael had done to his brother. The blond noticed them and quickly broke the hug, dragging his boyfriend over to them. Before he could even say a word, Richard stopped him.    "He just asked you out to the dance?"        "Yes!! Has Dex asked you yet? Cause then we could go suit shopping together!" As usual, his younger brother was way too excited about these things than anyone had a right to be, but Franklin had always loved dressing up and going to parties.         "Dude, you don't need to go out and buy a whole suit for this. Not like it's prom," Lavernius told the junior. "Just pick something nice you already have. And can someone please tell Rich here that there's no way Dex would turn him down?"        Franklin's head perked up at that, looking his older brother dead in the eyes. "Rich, if he doesn't say yes, he's an idiot and in denial. He's been over for dinner more this year than the last three combined."        "I rest my case. Now c'mon, I've got a baby who's probably driving my dad up the walls."        Once out in the parking lot, Richard looked around for Dexter's old beater that was in this horrible, bright orange with the doors painted an even brighter yellow. Apparently having sensed his rising anxiety, F.I.L.S.S. started playing music from his relaxation playlist through the headphones around his neck that were connected to his prosthetic arm. "Thanks," he muttered to the AI before speaking up to get his younger brother's attention, giving the keys an underhand toss. "I'm gonna go find Dex. I'll be home in time to make dinner, promise." All of the other teens smiled at him as he jogged off, going up and down the rows to hopefully beat Dexter to his own car.        Thankfully he'd made it just a couple minutes before the shorter senior came over, drinking a soda that he'd gotten from one of the vending machines. "Oh, hey, man. Not goin' home yet?"        "Told Franklin I'd be back to start dinner. Wanted to hang out with you a bit." Dex raised an eyebrow at this but just shrugged, unlocking the car and getting in. It didn't take long for Richard to realize they weren't going to the middle school to pick up Kai. "Uhh. . . ."        "Relax, she's spending the weekend with some friends at a sleepover since our parents are out of town."        "So you're staying home alone? All weekend?"        "Yep."    Somehow this felt like the perfect opportunity to finally suck it up and ask him. No Kai around to spy on them, and nothing embarrassing to try explaining to their adopted parents. So far, so good. When they got to the Grifs' house, both teens kicked off their shoes and put their backpacks by the door, Richard setting up Halo 12 while Dexter went to the kitchen to grab some drinks and some chips. He made sure the red head was getting a thing of carrot juice, while he grabbed another soda for himself. "So, what's up? Normally you give me a heads up before showing up at my car."     "Eh, just didn't wanna hear Franklin talk my ear off about matching suits with Frank or whatever. Also hoping to avoid having Tucker call me to complain how stupid it is that he can't invite Wash to the dance. Pretty likely he'd also complain about Caboose not shutting up about asking Loco out."     "Are those two actually dating or . . . . ?"     "Dunno. But they're definitely going to the dance together." They sat in silence for a few minutes, trying to play a couple practice games of capture the flag before deciding whether or not they wanted to do an online match. "So, uh, are you going with anyone? If at all?"     "Maybe? No one's asked yet, and I'm not sure anyone would really wanna go with me. You going?"     Richard just shrugged before recoiling a bit at a sudden, sharp pain in his arm. "Ow! F.I.L.S.S.!"     "My apologies. I must have hit a wrong nerve trying to move the fingers."     The taller teen glared down at his metallic arm for a second, going back to their game and attempting to continue the conversation. "Been thinking about it. Had sort of an idea who to ask. Besides, Sarge'd want me to go to keep an eye on Franklin anyway."     "Good ol' Sarge."     Feeling the AI in control of his arm in the back of his head and ready to send more shocks up his arm, Richard took a deep breath. "Do you wanna go to the dance? With . . . . me? Maybe? You don't have to, y'know, but if you want, it'd be nice. But you don't have to!"     "Dick?"     "Yeah?"     "Course, dumbass. Who else would I go with?"     About an hour later, the lanky teen found himself back home and in-between on steps in cooking dinner, Franklin bouncing in place as he sat on the counter, watching impatiently. "So?"     "So what?"     "Did you ask him?"     "Did Rich ask who what?" Sarge asked, coming into the kitchen to see what his boys were talking about.     "Richard asked Dexter to the dance this Valentine's Day," F.I.L.S.S. spoke up for the boy, knowing he was too nervous from earlier still to hold any sort of conversation.     "Bout dang time, son. You been fawnin' over him for the last four years now. How late's the dance s'posed ta go?"     "11:30 the latest," the blond teen answered back, their dad just nodding, knowing he could trust them both to not stay out too late.     Later that night, Franklin had texted Lavernius the good news, and the two proceeded to gush over this new development together, the older of the two saying he was afraid they wouldn't ask each other out until well after they graduated in a few months. The next few days were then spent with both of them trying to pick out a classy outfit to the dance, Lavernius saying he'd probably have to take Dexter shopping if the man had any hope of looking decent. So by the time the dance was there, their entire group showed up dressed in black slacks(minus Franklin who was in white with Frank), and they all had their own solid-color button-ups.     Loco and Michael tried splitting their time between the dance floor and eating snacks, while Franklin couldn't sit down from sheer excitement. Richard was too awkward to even attempt dancing, so he was glad to hang back and have some snacks with Dexter, making sure the shorter male didn't get the shirt or pants Lavernius had bought too messy. Speaking of which, he hadn't seen the darker skinned teen since getting into the main hall. This wasn't going to end well. . . .     "So, probably brought this up sooner, but why did you ask me here? I mean, we're not dating or whatever Loco and Caboose are."     "And you call me the dumbass. . . . I kinda thought it'd be obvious? I asked you out to the Valentine's Day dance. Should be pretty self-explanatory."     Dexter nodded a bit, eating a few more bites of his snacks. "True. But I wanna hear you say it."     Now Richard's face was starting to turn a similar shade of red as his hair, if just a shade darker. It wasn't a nearly full-body blush like Wash was known to get from time-to-time, but it did make his freckles blend together a bit. Just as she had last week, F.I.L.S.S. threatened to shock him again if he didn't speak up soon. Her personality had been really weird since Thanksgiving, he'd have to talk to Dr. Church about that.     "I- I like you, okay? I missed you a lot after you had to leave, and then you came back and I thought things'd be like when we were kids again, but it wasn't, and it still isn't, which I think is okay, y'know? We still bicker a lot sometimes, but it's not like when we were little. And you're always there for me when I need it, and you didn't hate me when you found out about me being a boy. Still can't believe you outed me in bio, though. I know, it was an accident. But you're my best friend, and I don't think I would've wanted to ask anyone else to come with me." Taking a deep breath, he started calming down a bit. "Honestly, it was probably a good thing you had to leave cause I think even when we were kids I had a crush on you. And I don't think I could've sorted that out on my own if you were still living with us."     "Huh. Good to know. I like you a lot, too. Thought about you the whole time I was gone. I mean, hard not to, considering you're why I was able to get my skin grafts. So even though you weren't around, you kinda were?" Side-eyeing the other, Dexter noticed the blush had gotten darker "So . . . are we dating now?"    "I think so? If you want to, anyway."     "Cool, guess I can finally do this," the heavier teen said, more of to himself, before leaning over and kissing his now-boyfriend, able to feel the heat radiate off his face from how flushed he was. It was at that moment that a bright flash got their attention, making them look up and see the overhead balcony where one Lavernius Tucker Church stood with his phone out, cheering in triumph.     "Finally! I've waited four years for this!" he cheered before running off to find his younger brother for safety.     "Wha- Tucker, no, I wanna dance with Loco more!" the younger boy tried telling him, as he tried climbing up his back and onto his shoulders. Lavernius just reassured him it'd just be for a little bit, to protect him from Dexter.     "Okay, Tucker's officially the group dumbass now."

[neirawrites]

I was a Twihard in high school. Then I was a Twilight hater. In  2018, I decided to reread the first book, to see for myself on which side I belonged. I wrote my thoughts as I read, in multiple parts, but on my main blog, so I thought I might share them on my writeblr too, because I kinda had fun with it. 

Enjoy my many, many notes

Pages 0-50

I’m actually kinda into it. Yeah, there are a many issues every article on editing tells you to fix (filter words, -ing verbs and things like that), but i feel it. I don’t know what it is, but it’s there.

Bella isn’t that bad of a protagonist. Nothing too spectacular, but she’s fine. She is depressed, self sacrificing and hides her feelings, but also a lot more self aware than i though she would be(like when she notices mike, my son, likes her). She’s a typical teenage girl, the introverted type, way into reading. there’s nothing wrong with that.

I don’t know why i remember Edward being a draco in leather pants,but he’s also fine for now. mysterious and handsome and a bit weird. The first real conversation they have, he’s polite and nice and charming. I expected him to be a dick for like 150 pages at least.

Pages 50-100

I’m still really into it.

Yeah,Edward kinda ghosts her/gaslights her after the whole van incident, but with the benefit of hindsight,i kinda get it. It’s a wonder he didn’t pick up his entire family and moved to Alaska again. I also get her mood during that time and I've been there so i feel ya,Bella,it’s not your fault.

And yeah, Bella gets invited to the dance by three different guys and it’s all kinds of fan fic-y, but the fact she turns them down furthers my belief she’s wake up married to Edward in like a few years and realize she would rather be with Rosalie (a solid choice, might i add).

Edward’s really pushy, especially when it comes to the scene after she faints. like, let her go, you jerk, she can drive herself, but he’s more weird than he’s a jerk and i think that was intentional.

A big surprise was the line “what if i’m not the hero, what if i’m the bad guy?” which isn’t this super cheesy, extra dramatic sentence but a jokey joke told with a laugh. actually, that whole conversation in the cafeteria where she tries to guess what he is is gold and don’t try to tell me otherwise.

I’m reading her interests in him as less of a romantic thing, and more of frustration at his behavior,like she would still be fascinated by him if he wasn’t so hot because he’s just so weird (but being hot is definitely a plus).

Plot? What plot?

Still, while the flaws are there, i’m still enjoying it very much.

Pages 100-150

Is Stephanie Meyer into anime? Cuz she wrote a harem light novel,that’s what she did and that’s how i’ll read it from now on and have more fun doing it. (Might make a post elaborating on this further).

All this to say that we got to Jacob. Not gonna lie, I kinda forgot about him.  He seems like a nice kid and i’m glad Bella has some positive interaction. Team jacoj 4 life (jk,man,i was team jasper in high school which is in retrospect very weird of me). I know he becomes a friend-zoned dudebro later, but for now, he’s fine.

Meyer, lady, you’re winning me over as a half hearted defender of your work, but why are the girls so bitchy? Yeah,i know, bitchy girls exist in real life, especially in high schools,but girls are our friends and we need more positive female on female interactions. Just my personal preference, I guess.

Things are getting interesting. Bella’s dreaming weird dreams (just fyi, not a big fan of dream scenes in general), she’s googling like crazy  and we’re going to Port Angeles.

I never felt she has any sort of affection for Angela or Jessica who seem really nice and have done nothing wrong. Like loosen up Bella, give them a chance. I know, depression makes you into a bitch sometimes, but it would warm me up to her character if she was a little more affectionate with people around her.

That whole scene where she almost gets at best beaten up and mugged and at worst raped and killed is… not my favorite part of the whole thing. I get what Meyer needed to do, to have her be saved by Edward, but there must have been a better way to go about it. What do I know? I’m the queen of forced plot contrivances. I do like their conversation at the restaurant (again, why do we hate the female waitress, Steph?). I don’t know why, I expected Edward to be mad at Bella for what happened to her and he seems genuinely concerned and his anger feels… human. Some of his actions, however, do not.

He stalked her which is weird and creepy and I hate it. Don’t stalk people, Edward. most of us don’t like it. you’re lucky Bella’s a weirdo.

150-200

I kinda love how ok she’s with the whole vampire thing. she’s just “well, this kid i barely know told me a scary story, so i guess the guy from school is a vampire. it be like that sometimes.” my first assumption would be it’s all an elaborate prank to make fun of me (i have some deep seeded trust issues origins of which remain unknown). and he’s waaay to quick to confirm her suspicions. I think there’s an explanation in the part of midnight sun that got leaked, but that was like a century ago.

I would criticize her for being ride or die with Edward so fast, falling in love with him so quickly, but i exchanged like 5 sentences with a cute girl last night and a part of is ready to propose based on the artiness of her instagam, so who the eff am i to judge?

and i get why he’s fascinated with her. she’s the only one he can’t read.

why? i don’t think that question ever gets a good enough answer, but it’s a fictional story about a girl falling in love with a sparky vampire. i’m not here for complex science or detailed explanations.

he seems waaay too protective of her. She’s a big girl, Ed, she can take care of herself. It’s actually kinda annoying. i dislike how he treats like a child a lot of the time. he seems pretty condescending. also, if he broke her car, i’m taking back everything nice i said about him.

ok, let me finally address bella’s biggest character flaw, her clumsiness. i mean, i get why she has it but Meyer goes a bit too hard on it. i’m clumsy, i really am, full of bruises, always bumping into things, but Bella can’t walk 20 meters without tripping. i guess i’m just glad she becomes a vampire in the book four, otherwise the book five would have been about her struggles when she’s diagnosed with a stage four inoperable brain tumor that’s been mesing with her sense of balance and the whole things turns into a weird version of the fault in our starts.

if i were writing it i would focus on her trust issues and being unable to form real bonds with other people as her main flaw, maybe even use it to try and justify the whole thing with the mind Edward can’t read. Like, she’s too different in a way that makes her unable to connect even on a basic level, like that one Blue whale that sings at a different frequency than all the others. Idk,i write pulpy sci fi. but it’s easy to be a general after the battle.

we got to the two infamous lines:

how are you? 17. how long have you been 17?  is another line that’s more jokey than i though it would be, but also the most realistic piece of dialogue in this book. i would so ask the same thing.

About three things I was absolutely positive. First, this paragraph has been memed to death. Second, there was a part of me-and I didn’t know how potent that part might be-that would know every word of it till the day i died. And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in like with it.

200-300

Not gonna lie, the whole part where he goes around asking her questions he is legitimately interested in knowing the answers to is at the same time my kinkiest fantasy and my deepest fear. like, yaaas, daddy, get to know me on the personal level and don’t be turn off by the fact i’m a tabula rasa.

We got to the infamous meadow scene and Bella is sooo horny on main for that vampire stake it’s actually kinda funny. She gets so effing into it she faints. I fucking love this girl. Go get that adonis dick, Bella, you deserve it.

I don’t mind vampires sparkle.i mean,it’s lame and fanfic-y but in Bosnia we have the lampires so vampires are creatures with a high dose of plasticity. i don’t know why that was like the worst thing anyone has ever done to the vampires. They are kinda too strong and could use a real weakness tho.  

So the lion fell in love with the lamb is kind of another joke. Also, this is the skin of a killer is sadly just in the movie.

I do have the feeling he likes the project that he sees in Bella more than the real girl,but ok. Also stop nagging her. He watches her sleep. What a creep. I don’t know why, but the fact that he’s a vampire who doesn’t have to sleep makes it kinda less creepy for me. I don’t know why.

But “if i could dream at all i would be about you,” is the kind of ultracheese i can get behind. they are both such teenagers and i kinda looooove it.

Also non of the boys were her type is such a lesbian excuse. I feel ya Bella, i feel ya. I hope you discover your gayness after the end of breaking dawn.

We meet the cullens and every single one of them has a backstory like 528 times more interesting than Edward. i need novels about them, all of them ffs. it would be so cool. but, one of my favorite oc’s Errien Lark gets like 30 lines in the whole book so i can only be as harsh on Meyer as on myself (which is to say a lot. neither of us deserve these characters, honestly)

This book would have been more interesting if Bella fell in love in any other cullen. Like, Bella and Alice, Bella and jasper (Bella and Jasper and Alice. Sorry, i’m into solving love triangles with ot3s).Bella and Rosalie, Calilise, Esme, even Emmett, who i remember  as mike of the vampires, but it’s been a decade.

300 pages in and plot is yet to happen, but it’s ok. we have the vampire baseball next.

the last part.

get your hot takes! hot takes right here

I kinda like billy. He seems like a nice guy. Also billy/charlie as my new otp.

“The beautiful one,the godlike one.” Bella, you are such a teen.

The less fucks she has about him being an all powerful ancient creature of the night who can murder her in a heartbeat, the funnier it is. She is just soo casual about it. Comedy gold, i tell ya. i mean, this is actually part of the narrative, Edward comments on it, meyer knows what she wrote.

Ed,maybe is you stopped saying she smells good, you would be better at not thinking about her as food. Mind over matter. Just a thought. Maybe i misjudged his virgin ass. Maybe ed the incel actually fell in love with her. Or at least what he thinks is love since they’ve been dating for like two days (look who’s talking?the girl who reads any sign of affection as a statement of love and then gets disappointed).

“Emmett could never be compared to a gazelle”. That’s sexist steph. Emmett, honey, you are as gracious as you want to be.

Also a big yaaaas on the whole concept of vampire baseball. we needed more of it.

Plot! Plot! Plot! Plot! Plot!

We have encountered plot. Only 320 pages in. three bad vampires came into town.

Story time: when i was in high school, all like 20 of us in out class were really, really into twilight (dudes included). we quoted it all the time but the height of comedy happened when someone brought their friend from another school to out class and someone else was like “you brought a snack” and a meme was born to be quoted endlessly for months. it was actually kinda fun. and probably very annoying for anyone who wasn’t into twilight.

Also, any development? Backstory? Motivations other than for the hell of it for out boi James and his ginger girlfriend? come on, it wouldn’t even be that hard. Also, some foreshadowing? There was like one line before. This is a legitimate criticism. it’s kinda shitty writing and a wasted opportunity.

Edward is being a dick again. I get he’s scared but her dad could die. Or maybe they’ll trun him into a vampire too (charlie/Edward? Think about it). But they all call him out on it which is nice. Bella’s plan isn’t bad, but “let me go charlie” is the straight up coldest thing i have read in a long time. it’s supposed to be, this isn’t criticism, just stating the obvious. But she showed like an inclining of love for her dad who has been nothing but nice all this time. Yeeey, she’s not a robot.

“It was the best idea. Of course it was mine” . Yaas, queen, you’re not that much of a doormat;  take that credit.

i would do something to foreshadow the ballet studio thing in the first half of the book. at least, have Bella or Charlie looking at pictures from her recital, just to intricate it to the plot a bit more.

Ok, now i remember why i was team jasper. He is so effing nice. And he would be awesome for my depression. Neira/Alice/jasper, i ship it.

i’m kinda digging the explanations of how vampires work and the whole venom thing. They are still op af and need to be nerfed, but i wanna be one.

Of course, he used the mom. She’s like the only person bella actually cares about. She falls for it. i would probably fall too, but i’m dumb.

the fact that james hunted Alice is a nice and a very much needed twist. it did catch me of guard. i would be more mad he’s a bad guy monologing, but i can only introduce stones to my own glass houses.

Bella’s now more into the idea of being a vampire than into Edward and i’m living for it. she’s going to use him for his venom and a baby and run off with rosalie.

“and how many times did she fall our of a window?” (yes, that is a Sherlock reference in the year 2018 of our lord. maybe i should do that for my next project. should i wait a few more years?)

her mom is not worried enough, honestly. my mom would be freaking out. but my mom has anxiety issues, so idk… (i couldn’t get her smooth hairless legs, or her blue eyes but i got that gene. thanks, i guess) .

“And i have a couple of girlfriends” now that’s a novel i want to read but i guess i’ll have to write the lesbian twilight myself.

“I want to be superman too”. yeeees, finally, kristen steward in the role of superman casting of the century. you would all watch it and love it, and you know it.

Charlie doesn’t deserve this shit. when will he retire with his husband billy in their cabin where they can fish all day.

“Do you want me to bolt the door so you can massacre the unsuspecting townsfolk?“ Are we sure she hasn’t been a vampire from day one?

Jacob is a sweetie (for now) just putting that out there.

Edward is kinda being unreasonable. being a vampire in your universe isn’t that bad.

Aaaaw, and that’s a wrap.

i actually kinda digged it. it’s nothing special, but i read these last 150 pages in one sitting. my main issues are writing oriented. very little foreshadowing, many filter words and things like that, but i guess if you aren’t that into writing, you might not even notice more of that.

it’s not the death of literature, it’s not the worst love story ever told. it’s just a silly and mostly harmless wish fulfillment novel.

edward can be a controlling and condescending prick but he gets called out on it very often. it’s not like meyer is completely oblivious to what she’s writing. and even tho he’s 100, i guess they are all mostly stuck mentally at the age when they were turned. or at least that’s how it seems to me. bella is kind of a bitch to everyone who’s not a vampire and she’s never called out on it, there’s a glimpse of change in the epilogue, but i don’t think meyer really considered it a character flaw. which is a shame, as it could have made for an interesting character. all the vampires have stories i would rather read about, as i said before, but what can ya do? that’s what’s fanfics are for.

i may write more of cohesive thought on it when it settles in my brain, but first, i need to watch the movie. i have a hypothesis i need to test.

but i don’t regret doing this. it was kinda fun and now i’m no longer ashamed of my twihard phrase. i could have done worse, as far as teen phases go.

Someone should like write a fanfic, but Edward is not a vampire, but a rich guy. And he’s into some hard core spanky business. And they should take all the problematic elements and just crank them up to 11. And add a looot of sex. I bet they could make millions.

Tho, honestly, how can you read twilight and not make bella the kinky dom? you fundamentally misunderstood the story. for shame

[pebblysand]

OF CRYSTAL ROSES (EXTENDED AUTHOR’S NOTE OF CHAPTER VI. OF CASTLES)

-- TO READ THE CHAPTER ITSELF, SEE HERE ON AO3 --

well, well, well. here we are. spoiler alert, gryffindors make plans they don’t stick to, lolz. all the good intentions in the world, i had. study, i said i would. yet, here were find ourselves, eighteen thousand words later. this appears to be how i roll. slept about five hours last night, too, so apologies if i’m slightly non-sensical/rambly. this chapter ought to be sponsored by deliveroo and teapigs tea, a brand of tea that appeared in my local supermarket a few moths ago and that i steadily refused to buy because - can tea really be worth this much? low and behold, once you’ve tried it once, it appears to be addictive. i’ve, while writing this chapter, worked my way through about four packs of their different teas - they are just this good. i have a job interview tomorrow so wish me luck in gaining employment which will hopefully fund my expensive habits.

now, before we get into the nitty gritty of the chapter, itself, i just needed to say this: i cannot thank everyone enough for the incredible response on last chapter. i’d kind of grown accustomed to getting a couple of reviews for each of them and to writing in my little corner of the internet but boy, you guys are bloody legends! i am so overwhelmed with gratitude for everyone who commented, kudo-ed and generally gave love to this fic in general. i really didn’t expect such a response and it’s meant the world to me. i think it’s probably also the reason why i’m posting so early because i kept being like, god, i can’t leave this many people waiting in this cliffhanger hell. i think this chapter ends on a more positive note (although, i’ll let you judge), one that might be more conducive of a few weeks’ wait (more on that below), haha.

this being said, as i explained on here before, i come from very tiny fandoms where basically everyone knows each other and the number of people reading would usually fit in my flat. the fact that over 80 people are now subscribed to this fic just blows my fucking mind. you’re all magnificent and i love you. i try to respond to all the comments so let’s keep chatting if you feel like it (although, no pressure - comment if you want to, but do know that it makes me very happy when you do :)). you’re all fabulous and i wish you all the best!

anyway, spoilers for castles, chapter vi under the cut.

guys, guys, guys, i am so tired. i’ve spent four days editing almost 20,000 words and my brain is fried. but, we are officially at the halfway point of this story, yaaaay!!! my plan, at this point, is that we’ll have six chapters on each side but even if i do end up splitting this one later (more on this below) i’ll end up with seven chapters on each side so either way - yay to the end of act 1!

i think that’s also why i tried to turn this chapter around this quickly. to me, i always kind of saw this fic as having two parts. part 1: the immediate post-war aftermath with the heartache and the love-fast/burn-fast start to harry/ginny. part 2: a slow and actually healthy rebuild of their relationship, and of the world around them. i have genuinely been writing towards that last harry/ginny scene in this chapter for months. it feels like such a relief to finally have that weight off my shoulders. and i actually do think it’ll allow me to focus on study later. act one is finished, and act two can wait a bit, i suppose.

now, obviously, given that i already apologised last time, part of me still wants to apologise for the length of this chapter, even more so, actually. it sits at about 18,000 words which, by nanowrimo’s standards, is over a third of a full book, wtf. yet, you guys also said last time that you didn’t actually mind long chapters, so perhaps i shouldn’t beat myself up too much?

as i said in the a/n, this is a little bit of different set up than chapter v. though. i know exactly where to split this. as you’ve probably seen by now, there’s a very natural split point after harry has his breakdown on the couch with ginny, before Christmas properly "starts." the reason i didn’t split this one there, though is: a) selfish: i needed to get this out. stop working on it. i need to study. when it’s out, i’m not thinking about it anymore. it would have been a bit non sensical to split this just for the sake of it and post two chapters at once, which means i probably would have held onto the second part for another couple of weeks, and fuck that. additionally, b) you may not have noticed this but: the chapter titles rhyme. why did i bring this additional difficulty upon myself, i do not fucking know. especially because i will soon run out of one-word construction materials to draw from, lol. as a result, though, i need an even number of chapters to close out this story and because i’m sort of planning six chapters from now to the end (more on that below) i can’t really split this one right now. like, if i end up with another overlong chapter in the next few months, i probably will take that opportunity and go back and split this one, just for readability. but at this stage, at this stage, because i don’t know how many chapters i’ll have for act two (six or seven), i’m keeping this chapter like this for the time being. i kind of hope i end up with seven chapters on the other side and am able to split this one down the line, but we will see. in the meantime, my most sincere apologies to the folks who read fanfiction before bed and it’s now 4 am by the time you’ve finished this. i’ve been there before, believe me.

from a personal standpoint, though, i have to say, this chapter (compared to the last one) was incredibly easy to write. i think i’d spent so much time imagining and writing these scenes in my head as kind of a culminating point for the first half of the story, that it quite simply poured out. i did have a little bit of an everything is shit crisis yesterday and today, but sure look, that always happens. overall, i am quite happy - i think - with the end result.

now, when i say "easy to write" i mean, technically, easy to find words to write down what was in my head. i do not mean: easy to write on an emotional level. oh boy. i’m generally not a crier. i have been asked, a number of times, by people who said my writing made them cry: do you cry when you write, too? and my answer was always ‘no’. i don’t judge, but i’m just not that kind of person. i know people who cry every day but personally, we are in the middle of a pandemic, my father recently passed away, i’ve lost my job and am studying for an exam my life is pretty dependent upon, and i haven’t cried in months. yet, i swear, there were a couple of times, both writing this and editing it, when i had to step away from the screen because i could feel a lump in my throat. that had never happened to me before. i didn’t, like, bawl or anything but god i felt it. i don’t know if it’s because it’s my first time killing an oc, someone who was really mine but boy. giulia. i kept trying to find ways not to kill her, or apologising to her. to me, she’s tom’s last victim and that really, fucking hurts. if you’re hurting too, i don’t really know what to tell you. i’m sorry, i suppose. her death was needed for … plot purposes, lol. god, i’m the worst haha.

re:harry/ginny: i must say i really like where they end up, at the end of this. i had planned this to a certain extent. i was always under the impression that they would talk over christmas, but not get back together. however, the reason why they weren’t getting back together, in my head, was initially quite different. i initially didn’t have ginny dating someone else. i think i mentioned i was toying with the idea in the a/n for last chapter, but at the time i wasn’t truly sold on it. then, i ended up writing the scene i’d originally planned for them and it didn’t quite fit. what i’d planned, at the time, felt rather ooc for ginny when actually on paper. on the other hand, harry, under my fingertips, kept trying to kiss her and i kept hitting the delete button. i swear, i know it sounds weird to people who might not be writers but sometimes, your characters really do seem to have their own agendas. when i caved, let him kiss her, then the scene took on a different meaning, and, i hope, a better one. i think something clicked there and it feels like a good place for act one to end. obviously, they’ll get back together cause this follows cannon so you know, not much suspense there. it’s more about the how than the what, to me.

re:ginny’s letters: this idea came to me a while ago, actually. i was thinking that they’d need to talk about what happened last year, but i was kind of struggling on the how. having character a tell a story to character b is always a bit difficult, in writing, because it can quickly end up being boring. like, when ginny tells harry about christmas last year and lupin, in this chapter, telling that in dialogue is already rather long an laborious, and it’s overall such a short story. for harry, it’s easy. i’m in his head so he can just say ‘he told her about the hallows’ and the dialogue can be about their reaction, rather than the events itself. but ginny, she needs to share facts, as well as feelings. and doing that through long monologues just didn’t appeal. first, it’s quickly boring and second, it’s also kind of ooc. she’s not giulia, you see.

i did entertain the idea of completely skimming past it. ‘she told him about last year and he was horrified.’ - moving on. but, i don’t know, that didn’t feel quite right either, because i think they need to exchange, and talk, and that just felt like a copout. also, to be honest, it’s a very difficult story to tell. like, i’ve seen people in fics being like ‘so, harry sat down all of the weasleys and told them everything the trio did in seventh year,’ and i’m like that’s so difficult, though. sitting someone down and telling them all about your trauma, with little preamble, just setting it all out there, i can’t imagine ginny (or, frankly, most people) actually doing that, you know? we reveal bits of ourselves bit by bit, not all at once.

then, it hit me: she’s a writer, isn’t she? at least, she is canonically in first year, with not only the diary but also the poems, then writing for the prophet. obviously, the diary thing would have riled her up a bit but i do think in the end, she would probably have been like: no, i won’t let him take writing away from me, you know? so yeah, letters. daily letters. you won’t see all of them in next chapter, but probably quotes from the most important ones, things that harry reads. that’s where he gets his facts about her story last year, and then they can focus on their feelings about it. fab! something to look forward to, haha.

now, re: the future. as i said, we are entering act two. act two will gradually become more "fun" and fluffy, i suppose, but i won’t lie, we will be keeping the same happy/sad vibe that a lot of you have commented on with this fic. it exists for a reason (as i said, life is about sex, but it’s also about funerals). as i said before, this fic is, above all, an exploration of what ‘all was well’ actually means.

this being said, this isn’t an 8th year fic. there is a very specific future pov from which this fic is being narrated, and that’s in october 2027 (i know, precise). obviously i have 28 years to get through in act two so that will affect the way that the timeline is designed. it will obviously be more spread out, especially in the later chapters. this being said, while i have about a million of ideas for all the space in between and a very clear view of what the last chapter will be, the exact layout of each chapter is still slightly blurry. i haven’t sat down to put all my ideas in chronological order yet, as well as into some sort of chapter structure, which is also why i can’t really tell if it’ll be six or seven chapters in the end. all of this to say, there’s still quite a bit of work to be done.

this means that, as i said in the a/n, i don’t think you’ll get next chapter until at least, may. please don’t think that this means i’ll be abandoning this fic or anything, it’s just that i’ll be doing work you probably won’t see. i’m probably going to take the rest of march off writing to study (bar maybe a roar-series Harry&Hermione friendship one shot? maybe) then take april to plan and write as much of the next chapters i possibly can. ideally, by the end of april i can have a first draft of the whole thing. i desperately want to write as much as i can now that I’m jobless in the hopes that when i do find a job (again, interview tomorrow, pray for me), i can just have editing to do at the weekends. but we all know i relate to harry on a very deep level when he says ‘when have our plans ever worked, anyway?’ so we will see, haha.

anyway, these were all the thoughts off the top of my head, re: this chapter. if you have any questions or other things you’d like me to ramble about, feel free to send in questions, my ask box is always open. i know i probably think about this fic (and hp) way too much but i’m an extrovert and my hobbies used to include travelling, pints at the pub, dating and, well, there’s none of that anymore, is there, lol? the uk has stolen our vaccines (fucking brexit) so here’s to being obsessed with fictional worlds i wish i could live in for a while longer,

i will now go and endlessly refresh my email for reviews and kudos, like the attention seeking basic bitch i am haha.

have a fab evening, everyone!

[nevergonnabemuchmorethanweather]

10 for 10 for 10

I was tagged by @sandalaris. Thanks for thinking of me!

Answer ten questions, ask ten questions, tag ten people.

1.      What was your first fandom? Are you still a part of it?

Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I started watching it with my mom when I was four but I didn’t start reading/writing fanfiction until I was eleven or so. And yes, I am still a part of the fandom and I very seriously doubt I will ever stop.

2.      Current self care method(s)?

Avoiding things I have no real need to know about that I know will upset me, even if it makes me feel like a wimp.

Listening to music or white noise when my parents’ voices start to grate on me. They’re great, and my relationship with them is great, but I have auditory sensitivity issues and sometimes just the 24/7 sound of them around the house starts to Get To Me.

3.      What are three (3) shows you keep meaning to binge watch but haven’t yet?

I’ve been meaning to watch the final season of New Girl, the rest of The Good Place, and... I can’t think of another one.

4.      Do you stay active in fandoms after a new one catches your eye, or are you more a one at a time person?

I very rarely truly drop a fandom, but I do cycle between them a lot. For instance, right now I’m on a Harry Potter (specifically Marauder Era James/Lily) kick. It’s not something I post about because I actually haven’t read the books (I’ve seen the movies and read a lot of fanfiction and seen enough meta that I have a pretty good idea of what happens in the books that’s different from the movies) so I don’t feel, like, qualified, I guess? Although I have like five Jily fics in the works (that I’ll probably never finish because I’m me and I suck) so maybe I just don’t feel qualified to write meta. Although there are some opinions that have solidified them enough I will probably post them at some point.

5.      What was the last movie you saw with someone else? What would you rate it? 

I watched I Love You to Death with my parents and it was hilarious.

6.      Favorite guilty pleasure?

Ghost Whisperer. Not that it’s a bad show or anything (it’s great) but it’s just so sappy and my mom and I (not typically sappy people) will watch it together and cry and make fun of ourselves for it.

7.      What’s a highly underrated show/movie/book series that you would recommend?

Leverage! It’s not unpopular or anything and it has an active fandom but it’s just such a good show...

8.      Any new hobbies you’ve started during quarantine? Any you want to start?

Nothing new, but I’ve started crocheting again, and I’ve been writing more.

9.      What meme do you wish would just die already?

It’s not a meme so much as a trend, but I am so incredibly tired of reboots and remakes. Reviving a show ten years after its end is always, always going to end in disappointment. The actors have fallen out of touch with their characters, the culture that made the show successful in the first place has changed, and we’ve all developed years worth of headcanons that the actual show is never going to be able to live up to.

But people keep clamoring for great shows to be brought back and inevitably ruined. It’s like a weird form of memory loss. Yeah, the last hundred reboots I was really excited for were wildly disappointing, but did you hear they’re bringing back ‘insert show name here’? This is going to be so great!

Spoiler alert: It’s going to suck.

10.  Spread the love to your followers and post at least one link to a fic you’re reading/have read/wish to read/you’ve written yourself/etc.

Oooh, finally, my time to shine!

Harry Potter (Jily) fics:

Haggis from Algernon by Rude Gus -- The (thoroughly disastrous) courtship between James and Lily, documented in journal entries. 

(The Completely Unwilling Participants on) The Bachelor by Rude Gus -- Non magical AU that is exactly what it sounds like.

BTVS (Bangel) fics:

Culture Shock by loftyheights -- Human AU where Angel is an Irish exchange student staying at the Summers’ house. It’s unfinished, but still so worth reading.

Adverse Reaction by OyHumbug -- Angel doesn’t lose his soul after sleeping with Buffy, but Buffy wakes up as a (souled) vampire.

Austin & Ally (Auslly) fics:

I’m Looking Down, So Come Help Me Up by ExtremeSaucicity -- AU, Ally is having a terrible week and a certain tall, blonde, goofy neighbor of hers steps in to make it better.

Zero Seconds to Midnight by skwirelygurli-- Austin and Ally stay up trying to write a song. Austin is lovesick. There is cuddling.

Life with Derek (Dasey) fics:

Induced with Madness by snappleducated -- LwD meets The Princess Bride.

Pavlov’s Dog is Chasing Schrodinger’s Cat by unoriginal-elizabeth -- Derek and Casey can’t seem to stop hooking up at weddings. Casey tries to break the cycle with operant conditioning. Derek is, as always, unhelpful.

My Questions:

1. How old were you when you discovered fandom/fanfiction?

2. What is one fanfiction trope you can’t stand, and why do you hate it? Can be fanfiction in general or specific to a certain fandom/ship.

3. What was the last book you read and did you like it?

4. List three of your favorite fictional characters from any medium.

5. Do you prefer canon ships, non-canon ships that have a solid basis in canon, or crack/crossover/etc. ships that throw canon completely to the wind?

6. Do you prefer fictional characters that remind you of yourself, or characters that are different from you in ways that you admire?

7. If you could only read Angst or Fluff about your OTP/s for the rest of your life, which would you choose?

8. Pick your favorite/one of your favorite ships and name three songs that make you think about them.

9. Can you enjoy fiction that doesn’t jibe with your irl morals, or is it important to you that the media you consume has a message you agree with?

10. What is one book/movie/show/etc. from your childhood that still influences you?

I tag: @colddsalsa, @jilyandbambi, @sakurablossommirror01, @i-only-have-eyes-for-you, @millennialslayer, @timelordsdoitbetter, @mslyragw, @the-doctors-clotpole, @janecorderosolano, @faithandlovewillkeepmestrong

[justlikeeddie]

black sails fic recs

I have got and continue to get so much enjoyment out of Black Sails and its fandom! It's so nice that this anniversary week of posts has made me realise it is two years since my dash was abruptly filled with people having full breakdowns over the S4 finale, and I was like, “man, I don’t know why this field of corn or whatever is so important, but I guess I should watch this show and find out”. And I did. AND IT WAS.

I don’t know how to make gifsets bcos I am an idiot, but luckily for this fan content Friday thing I CAN post a non-exhaustive list of fics in this fandom that I am absolutely obsessed with. You’re welcome!!!

Unaccommodated Man, The Peaceable Kingdom, and Congress by kvikindi / @septembriseur

James/Thomas, post-series

James looks at him, searching, and Thomas fears he will recognise that Thomas is not really Thomas, not quite Thomas, not the Thomas he had been, and so he says, “I have gone a little mad in this world without you, but now that you are here—” And James makes a sound, a sobbing, laughing sound, and crushes Thomas to him once more.

Like...obvs. This is one of the best series of stories I have read in any fandom, or, actually, that I have read in any context. Both on a macro level - with unbelievable fluency, this series encompasses trauma, recovery, intimacy, forgiveness, literature, the conception of madness, agriculture, 18th-century Native American tribal language, etc, etc - and a micro level, in which not a single word is wasted, and not a single sentence is unworthy of being read three or four times. Anyway. I have re-read all of these stories multiple times and Congress more times than I would admit to if I actually knew.

consider them both, the sea and the land by youremyqueen / @deathnoting

Flint/Silver, post-S3

Flint frowns, stiff and unbending, and leans down just a tad so that he is looking John directly in his eyes. If he’s uncomfortable with their proximity, he doesn’t let it show.

“Remember when you told me,” he grits slowly, each word weighted with emphasis, “that you had discovered the pleasure of being both loved and feared? Is that what you would like from me? It is not enough that you have earned my respect, my friendship. You would now like for me to be frightened of you as well?” His nostrils flare, his rage is quiet. “I am not one of your men.”

John can feel the words on his face and he bears them without flinching, says only, “And I am not one of yours.”

Flint’s brow twitches, and he moves a hair closer, disgustingly close, warm and sour with the smell of whiskey, a solid and immovable blockade between John and what he wants. And he says to him, of all the unbearable things, “Isn’t that exactly what you are?”

THIS IS LITERALLY THE FIC THAT CHANGED MY MIND ABOUT FLINT/SILVER. For like three whole series I just didn’t Get It. And then I read this and was like.....oh.....I Get It. It’s a weapon. Their attraction to each other is a weapon. And sometimes they like using it and sometimes they don’t. And I have never, my friends, looked back

and into what it will be changed by @sea-changed

James/Thomas/Miranda, pre-series

"The Hartfords left for the country last week," Miranda says; "they've merely invited us to view the painting. They cannot resist showing off, even in absentia." She and Thomas share a look, smirking at each other as if sharing an old joke. Then she looks back at James, and her mouth quirks up at him. "So you needn't worry about their judgement."

James considers protesting that that wasn't, exactly, what he was worried about, though upon second thought he wonders if it truly wasn't. "That's very kind," he says, hesitating.

"Is it?" Miranda asks, almost absently. "We do not invite you along as a kindness, Lieutenant; I believe I speak for both Thomas and I when I say we rather enjoy your company."

James feels his face heat, not unpleasantly, and he looks down at the carpet. Miranda is usually soft and kind, but occasionally she does this, speaks plain and pointed. She and Thomas both do this, push and keep pushing: Thomas seems to do so with curiosity, prodding until he finds something interesting, but Miranda does it as if she had already found the spot she wishes to target, and goes after it relentlessly. James thinks suddenly, and unexpectedly, that she would not make a bad Naval commander.

THIS IS LITERALLY THE FIC THAT CHANGED MY MIND ABOUT JAMES/THOMAS/MIRANDA. I used to be weirdly militant in the belief that James’s affairs with the Hamiltons only made sense if they were two separate affairs that didn’t even really overlap. And then I read this and was like....right okay....if they DID have a threesome it would have been like this

There’s Plenty of Men to Die by @autoeuphoric

Flint/Silver, post-S3

The five of them share a glance, passing it around the table, man to man. Flint’s mouth twitches and Madi laughs shortly. “I would wager every man here fancies themselves in charge. This is a meeting of chieftains. I say let it remain so.”

“Although…” Silver says slowly, pulling the others’ attention on to him. Flint’s eyes flick his way, and to his horror he realizes he has nothing else to say. No point, no segue, no plan for a redirection of the conversation. He had simply wanted Flint to look at him. A fierce longing for the days when it was just the two of them fills him, laying their plans together, even though the threat of sudden and nonnegotiable execution was much higher. But he knew where he stood. Here, there are complications. Confusions.

This is just a tiny little snatch of a scene but every beat of it is perfect! Silver navigating his obsession with Flint, in the midst of everybody navigating their new relationships with each other in the new fragile and tentative anti-colonial alliance.

a question of needs (and not rosary beads) by @seventymilestobabylon

James/Thomas, pre-series

Still: James wants to talk. If Thomas means this to be—what it is, what it clearly is, then he should have the fucking decency to say something about it. He also, and intensely, wants the whole business to be transacted without any conversation, but he knows better than to hope for that. Thomas is not capable of it, that implicit understanding. Even when he kissed James—

Thomas’s thumb very light at the hinge of his jaw. He felt a thrill like fear, when it happened.

Even then, Thomas said, “All right?” when it was over, and would have said more, except that James nodded mutely, minutely, and stammered something incoherent that required his presence elsewhere. Thomas and Miranda both looked hideously understanding about it, and James considered—as he walked home through ill-lit streets and inhaled familiar smells of smoke and fish and tar and shit—simply climbing aboard one of the ships in harbor and never returning to London.

This is one of the few pre-series fics I’ve read that really digs into James and Thomas’s incompatibilities and differences and misunderstandings - and sets them against how badly they want each other, and want to understand each other, nonetheless. Don’t get me wrong, obviously 1705 is The Only Time James McGraw Was Ever Allowed To Be Happy (tm), and I’m extremely into reading about him and Thomas making each other happy! But also - it’s so interesting to explore James being so frightened of how he feels about Thomas that he can be unkind to him, and Thomas being so immersed in how he feels about James that he can be complacent and sometimes a little thoughtless about it. And this pulls all of those things apart so well.

you and i survived by youremyqueen / @deathnoting

Anne/Jack, Vane/Jack, pre-series

“She’s not mine. That isn’t—we aren’t—I mean to say, do you actually understand what love is, Captain?”

“Love is possession,” Vane tells him, with his usual unselfconscious melodrama. “Not only of women by men, but of men by women. The point of owning a woman is to see to it that she doesn’t own you.” He speaks as if he’s explaining some very basic and widely known conceit.

Jack winces. “What a viciously horrible perception.”

Vane rolls his eyes. “Christ’s sake. Don’t you ever get tired of acting like a fucking woman?”

“Don’t you ever get tired of acting like a fucking man?”

And couldn’t they unpack that remark for days?

The extremely funny author’s note “if someone had told me two months ago that i would write a fic that featured charles ‘only straight person in nassau’ vane as a main character, i would not have believed them” is also a summary of how I feel about this fic. WHO KNEW that on top of every other fucking thing I have to care about in this fandom, I also care a LOT about Jack and Anne and Charles fuckin Vane! A principled, terrifying, Aslan-transfigured-into-a-human nightmare of a man! This fic is so excellent and does such justice to all of them. Their triumvirate gets kind of supplanted by the Max-Anne-Jack situation from S2 onwards, and I always forget how nuanced and odd and interesting this three-way dynamic is when we first meet them. This story does such a good job at trying to explain what the fuck that dynamic is.

Katabasis by unheroics

James/Thomas, pre-series, canon-divergent AU

There were Flint’s men, one leaving the cabin, another ransacking a chest for treasures, another still turning to speak to Randall; the words exchanged escaped Flint, as all else did, once his gaze fell to the Englishman.

He knelt barefoot on the deck, and wore the undyed, colourless linen of prison or asylum garments. For a precarious second Flint could only think that his hands had had nary a mark upon them, five years ago, and now were as scarred as those of a gamekeeper or veneur. He looked nothing like the man whose presence haunted Flint’s dreams, always at the corner of the vision, always cold to the touch and bleeding from the eyes and mouth.

In all his careful planning, and all his mirthless revenge, Flint had never thought to anticipate a variable in place of a set value. The presence of other men about was like an anchor at his feet, dragging him underwater, but it was Alfred Hamilton’s blood on his hands that kept him immobile.

“Will you kill me?” said Thomas Hamilton, in a voice harsh from paregoric. His tone had a note of morbid, queer hope. “I could pay.”

To spare you, or kill you? It was excruciating to wonder.

One of the very first James/Thomas fics I read! And certainly one of the first fics I read that started to probe and pull apart the McGraw-Flint dichotomy, by literally dropping Thomas right in the middle of it. And while the actual end of S4 is, obviously, the greatest and most narratively and emotionally satisfying thing that has ever happened on television, and you can quote me on that - one thing we do never get in canon is Thomas in Nassau, and I love getting to read that here.

[margridarnauds]

Yearly AO3 Meme

92

I saw @fallenidol-453 doing this, so I decided to jump in on the fun.

Rules: Go to your works page, expand all the filters, and answer the following questions! how fun!

1. What’s your first and second most common work ratings?

Teen And Up Audiences (17)

General Audiences (12)

2. What’s your most common archive warning? Least common? Do you consider yourself an adventurous writer?

Most common: No Archive Warnings Apply (26)

Least common: Graphic Depictions of Violence (1)

The thing is...I think that people tend to think that I’m actually much more adventurous than I am. Because I have a variety of ships that are enemy to lover and because I am very outspoken about my firm belief that people should write whatever they want, provided it’s tagged properly, I think people think that means that *I* want to write it. Or that the way I want to write it is inherently in a way that merits an archive warning, as opposed to working canon how I want. I don’t particularly like Major Character Death, though I will use it if necessary, I don’t particularly like non-con (outside of, like, consensual non-consent as a kink, which inherently ISN’T this), and most of the time, when I’ve been tempted to work with something that would qualify as “underaged,” it’s simply because of the time that the literature/media I tend to work with is set in, in the sense that, say, a 16 or 17 year old, at the time of the French Revolution, had different societal expectations than a modern 16 or 17 year old. (Nor were they necessarily ADULTS either; it’s complicated.)

In general, I don’t particularly like dealing with heavy subjects, though. I don’t really trust myself with them, and I don’t like working with them. That’s actually the primary reason why the Áife/Emer one-shot has never been published, because of the inherent heaviness of Áife’s storyline. I don’t really...think it’s something I could treat flippantly. But I also think that I’m not sure I trust myself with treating it at all. 

3. How many fics have you written in each relationship category? Is this more accidental, or do you have preferences?

M/M (15)

Gen (6)

F/F (6) (+1)

F/M (5)

Multi (2)

It’s more or less accidental, though I do try to do more F/F stuff because of the scarcity of femslash in fandom. I don’t want the boys to get ALL the fun here. In general, though, I think that male characters, in most media, get the most attention, they get the most characterization, and there are more of them in general, which makes them easier to ship. Female characters....don’t, and even when you do get them, you have to find two with chemistry. It does make things very hard, in the long run and I do think that....as a WLW who writes fic, it can be very easy to fall into the “SOFT ! PURE !” trap, where you kind of condition yourself into thinking that’s the only brand for female characters in a relationship with one another to go down, ignoring that they can have the same type of complex dynamics as male characters. (That, and when it comes to F/F ships....I find that it can be TOO personal, in a sense? It’s much harder for me to remove myself, and I know that, even when I do, people are going to think that it IS a reflection one way or another. I have more in common with, say, Solène, as a character, or Margrid, but it’s much, much easier for me to slip into Lazare’s mind and stay there for a few hours. It’s a nice, cool, dark place.) 

4. What are your top 4 fandoms by numbers? Are you still active in any of them, and do you tend to migrate a lot?

1789: Les Amants de la Bastille - Various Composers/Attia & Chouquet (12)

Terra Nova (TV) (5)

Irish Mythology (4)

1776 (1972) (3)

Active in 1789, TN, and Irish Mythology. I don’t really CONSIDER myself to be someone who writes for a lot of fandoms, mainly because my writing process is very intensive; it’s something I have to PUSH at to work with new fandoms. 

5. What are your top 4 character tags? Does this match how you feel about the characters, or are you puzzled?

Lazare de Peyrol (11)

Ronan Mazurier (8)

Solène Mazurier (7)

Olympe du Puget (4)

I’m actually disappointed by how relatively little Olympe appears, since I feel like, of all of them, she’s my favorite as far as her CANON characterization, and my first fic was centered around her. Hopefully she’ll get some more attention this next year. 

6: What are your top 4 relationship tags? Any surprises?

Ronan Mazurier/Lazare de Peyrol (8)

Abigail Adams/John Adams (3)

Solène Mazurier/Olympe du Puget (3)

Mira/Alicia Washington (2)

The ONLY surprise here is Abigail Adams/John Adams, because I don’t really consider myself IN the 1776 fandom proper. Don’t get me wrong, I love it, but it isn’t a PRIMARY fandom, and its prominence here is because of the drabble exchange I participated in. 

7. What are your top 2 most used additional tags, and your bottom 2? What would happen if you combined all 4 of these into a fic?

Top Two:

Established Relationship (6)

Angst (5)

~These are a few of my favorite things~

Bottom Two:

Pining (3)

French Revolution (3)

Tbh? I’m surprised that there isn’t more pining and French Revolution, but. 

Combining all four in a fic? I call that a regular Friday night when I’m tossing ideas at the wall. I feel like this is half my Peyronan one-shots as it is (Especially Ah, Ça Ira, AKA The Real Love Triangle of 1789 Being Between Ronan, Lazare, and Lazare’s Job). 

8. How many WIPs do you have currently running on AO3? Any you don’t plan on finishing?

4, which is genuinely surprising to me because I FEEL in my soul that there are more. I haven’t given up on any of them. I know that it can FEEL like it because of the way that my updates come, especially since I began my program, but I’m COMMITTED. I was given relatively limited suitcase space when I was moving and there were three books, more than any other non-Celtic Studies books, that I wanted in. One was a book on the army during the French Revolution, one was a book on childhood from the Ancien Régime to the 20th century (which is my main secondary source used in Le Cri), and my book on the opera balls, which is obviously my major secondary source used for Curl of Lip. Pour la Peine will probably take another 3 or 4 chapters to get resolved, maybe 5, but it will be. The ending’s been written out since I began it, it’s just a matter of connecting the plot points from here on out. (The Thing that happened in the last chapter was really the last thing we needed before we slid right into the final act, which is good, because it’s where I’ve wanted to be, but it also means that now my responsibility is to bring it all home. Which certain filmmakers could take to heart. And...there’s at least one more reveal to pull off.) And the last is Brace of Snakes which...I have Plans for. The only thing is just to make sure that everything develops organically. It’s the inherent problem with working with relationship development, really, especially in something like MA that condenses SO MUCH into the span of nine years, so a lot of it is really left up to the imagination. 

9. Total stories and wordcount hosted on AO3?

Stories: 33 (Officially, I have one more child to acknowledge later) Wordcount: 102,925

[tenroseforeverandever]

Wonderful Tonight - Chapter 1

Characters: Tentoo; Rose Tyler; Jackie Tyler; Pete Tyler; Original Character, Wilkins from Vitex Patents

Tags: hurt/comfort; angst; romance; fluff; love; Pete’s World; sexual content; drunkenness; drunken confessions; swearing; songfic

Story Summary:

On the first anniversary of the instantaneous biological metacrisis that created him, the same day he and Rose had been unceremoniously dumped in Pete’s World, the Doctor can think of a few gazillion different ways he would prefer to spend the evening, and the Annual Vitex Gala is not one of them. All he truly wants is to spend a quiet, intimate evening at home alone with Rose. But when Rose doesn’t acknowledge the significance of the date, the Doctor finds the strain and rejection he has worked so hard to overcome surfacing again, leaving him feeling vulnerable and insecure.

A song fic, based on the song Wonderful Tonight, by Eric Clapton.

Notes:

This story has been in the works since Christmas and was intended to be finished by Tentoosday in February. LOLOLOLOL So, right on schedule for me, then!

Written for @doctorroseprompts‘s Tentoosday event.

Many thanks to my brilliant betas mrsbertucci and @rose--nebula​ who have taken the time out of their very busy schedules to look this story over for me.

Four Chapters, posting on Wednesdays

Read also at: AO3; Teaspoon; FF

Summary, Chapter 1:

Feeling out of sorts on the first anniversary of being left in Pete’s world with Rose, the Doctor is worried Jackie will blame him if they show up late to the Annual Vitex Gala, and frustrated that Rose isn’t ready to leave when he is.

--oOo--

It's late in the evening; she's wondering what clothes to wear

She puts on her make-up and brushes her long blonde hair

And then she asks me, “Do I look all right?”

And I say, "Yes, you look wonderful tonight.”

The Doctor stood in the front hall of the little flat, peering at his reflection in the full-length mirror. He ran a tongue over his teeth, and tilting his head from side to side, critically assessed the controlled chaos that was his hair. Giving his fringe a final tweak, he stepped back and swivelled back and forth, his lip curling at the sight of the tuxedo. Well, at least his feet would be comfortable in the black and white Chucks he’d procured specifically for the occasion. After the last party Jackie had hosted, his feet had been aching for days, blistered and cramped by the uncomfortable leather dress shoes she’d insisted he wear.

Nope! Never again!

And especially not tonight of all nights. The day of his… weeeell, his first-ish birthday, he supposed, give or take the millennium’s worth of knowledge packed into his brain. He could think of a few gazillion different ways he would have preferred to spend this evening, and the Annual Vitex Gala was not one of them. The only thing that could possibly make it tolerable was the fact that he would be attending said gala with one Rose Tyler by his side.

One Rose Tyler who was distinctly not in the front hall, ready to go…

“Roooo-ooose! We’re going to be late!” He sent a little burst of annoyance along their bond.

He was usually the one who kept her waiting, primping his hair to untamed perfection. It was her own fault, really. Afterall, it was she who’d found a jar of Pompogix’s Hair Pomade (precisely as brilliant as the stuff he used to use in the Prime Universe). He could hardly be blamed for wanting to make good use of it. You couldn’t rush perfection.

Except in Rose’s case… she always looked perfect. Therefore, he reckoned, logically, there was no reason for her not to be ready to go.

He shuffled from foot to foot as he peered down the hallway to the bedroom. “C’mon, Rose! You know who Jackie’ll blame if we’re late. Me! I’m still recovering from the slap she gave me two bodies ago. I don’t fancy another one, ta!”

Rose’s head popped out from the bedroom doorway, a towel still wrapped around her hair, and her face devoid of make-up. Utterly gorgeous, but definitely not even remotely close to being ready for the gala.

“Blimey, the paps’ll have a field day with shots of you in that get-up.”

“Yeah, ta for that.” Her frosty reply was accompanied by the equivalent of a growl vibrating a warning in his mind and a dangerous little crease forming over the bridge of her nose. She grumbled as she disappeared back into the bedroom, but a few seconds later she called out, “Doctor! I need your help! Can you c’m’ere?”

She seemed a little flustered (as well she should, given the time). He couldn’t imagine how he was supposed to help. Nevertheless, he followed the sound of her voice into the bedroom and found her dressed only in knickers, sheer thigh-high stockings, and the towel on her head, poring over three gowns spread out on the bed before her. The sight of her topless might have been more enticing if he hadn’t been so frustrated.

“I can’t decide which dress to wear.”

“What the hell does it matter? You’ll look beautiful no matter what. Wear a bin bag if you like. Just pick something and let’s get a move on, before Jackie has my head for the centrepiece on the buffet.”

She huffed. “So glad I have you, then!”

“Oh, all right,” he relented, quite sure nothing good would come of him offering his opinion. He looked carefully at the three options, considering the pros and cons of each. “Wear the green one. It’s a festive colour and it’s sparkly. I quite like sparkly.”

“The green one? Really? Do you think so?” Rose screwed up her face, her nose wrinkling in distaste. “I kinda thought the sparkles were a bit naff, to be honest.”

“I knew it!” he growled through gritted teeth. He arched a judgmental eyebrow. “Why did you bother asking me my opinion? Is it some kind of test? A trap? A psychological experiment, perhaps? Hmmm?”

“Blimey, Doctor! Overreacting a bit, yeah?” Rose averted her eyes from him, glancing over the dresses again.

“Nope! I think you’ll find my response was perfectly calibrated to serve the situation at hand. You asked me for my input – which I gave quite willingly – and then, without a second’s consideration, you rejected my opinion out of hand. How am I supposed to react to that?”

Her hands flew to her waist as she turned to face him, a fierce, wolfish spark in her eyes. Her bare breasts jiggled temptingly, and suddenly any frustration was pushed to the back of his mind and he found himself forced to tamp down his body’s responses. Now was not the time for that sort of distraction.

“Oi! Eyes up here!” she snapped with a sharp tweak of their bond. (So, definitely not the time…)

His irritation wriggled back to the forefront, and with his libido conquered, he was able to retrace his earlier train of thought. “It wouldn’t matter what dress I’d selected; you’d have had some excuse not to choose it.” Oh, it felt quite satisfying to get another dig in.

“That’s not true.” Hurt transformed Rose’s face, and she placed a soft hand on his arm. Her love and sadness flooded through him. “I value your opinion, Doctor. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

As her lovely, soft, kissable lower lip wobbled, guilt gushed through him. He sighed. Despite his better judgement, he found himself spouting out more words of gala-gown wisdom. “How about the black one, eh, Rose? Classic! You can never go wrong with a black dress for a formal occasion.”

“Hmmmm… but black’s so dull. I mean it’s a beautiful dress, but it’s nearly Christmas, yeah?”

The Doctor gaped at her in stunned silence for a few charged ticks, then he threw his hands in the air. “I give up! I can’t win! Tell you what: I’ll be waiting in the lounge, planning my funeral. Jackie can throw another party to celebrate the occasion, and you’ll be able to wear the black dress to that.” He stalked away, ignoring Rose’s incoherent squeaks of outrage.

He needed to calm down. He was on edge and was letting little things get to him. He muffled his telepathic connection with Rose. Bombarding one another with negative emotions would be nothing but hurtful.  All he had truly wanted was to spend a quiet, intimate evening at home alone with her. This day held special significance for him.

That fact, in and of itself, came as a shock.

Never before had he bothered to observe the linear progression of his life; he’d never given it any thought. Even though he knew time progressed in a distinctly non-linear, wibbly-wobbly fashion, he had to face the fact that his time would now have a distinct end; there would be no more cheating death. Observing the passing years, taking time to reflect on the successes and challenges of the past and his aspirations for the future, had suddenly become something of the utmost importance. He wanted to celebrate the love he and Rose shared and how hard they had both worked over the past year to overcome the strain and rejection of being unceremoniously dumped in Pete’s World.

Instead, he once again felt redundant, useless… vulnerable, the unsettling image of Rose walking away from him at Bad Wolf Bay, rejecting him as he tried to win her favour, playing on auto-repeat in his mind.

The last thing he wanted to do was parade around at the Vitex Gala, hobnobbing and exchanging vapid small talk with vacuous socialites and tedious politicians.

He wandered into the kitchen. A nice cuppa was what he needed. The brilliant effects of the superheated infusion of free-radicals and tannins never failed to soothe him. A good, stiff drink would have been marvelous as well, but he’d learned the hard way, this new, more-human body was not very good at regulating the effects of excessive alcohol consumption. He’d be drinking plenty at the gala, later (if they ever got there); he needed to be careful not to overdo it. No, for the time being, tea would be just perfect.

He filled Rose’s mug as well, adding the perfect amount of milk (just a splash) and honey (a little, to cut the bitterness). She had her own demons to face on this particular day. Although… come to think of it, she hadn’t mentioned it, either the day – his birthday (that hurt a bit), or the demons – being abandoned by the other Doctor and, in turn, abandoning… him, the metacrisis (at least, initially). There were more closed doors in her mind than normal, but she hadn’t even given any overt hints of any anxiety through their bond. But even if she wasn’t worried, he still thought she would probably appreciate the gesture of the warm comforting beverage and it would give him a chance to apologize for his “overreacting”, however justified it might have been.

He returned to the bedroom and leaned against the doorjamb, mugs in hand, silently watching Rose as she sat at her little vanity, still in a semi-dressed state (although her hair was loose and dry now), carefully applying the finishing touches to her make-up. Analysing her reflection, she dabbed stray traces of crimson lipstick from the corners of her voluptuous mouth, then smoothed the concealer under her eyes. With a heavy sigh, she picked up her hairbrush, and pulled it through the soft tangles of her long, blonde hair. She’d allowed it to grow over the past year and it now reached almost halfway down her back. The doctor loved the silken feel of it between his fingers, loved the way it tumbled around his face when she rode him to their mutual bliss.

And, oh, that train of thought was no more helpful now than it had been earlier, but unable to resist the temptation, he stepped forward into the room. “Here, let me.” He took a gulp from his mug before setting both mugs on the vanity. He plucked the brush from Rose’s hand.  “Have a cuppa,” he offered as he gathered her hair in his hands and brushed out the ends at the back where she couldn’t reach.

“Oh, a cuppa would go down a treat. But I can’t. Just put on my lippie, yeah.”

Rebuffed again, he held his tongue. Rose hadn’t meant to be hurtful, but it seemed he just couldn’t do anything right. Although, it wasn’t like he was doing anything especially wrong... just a bit off-target, perhaps. He decided there wasn’t anything to be gained by making a fuss, but he didn’t trust his stupid gob to behave. It would be safer to just leave her to her grooming. He set the brush down firmly on the vanity and, pointedly removing her tea mug, moved toward the door.

“Doctor…?”

He turned back toward her, helpless to resist the sway she held over him. She’d always been his weakness… and his strength. She completed him.

“I was hopin’ you could braid my hair for me...”

“No doubt I could…” He arched an eyebrow at her.

“Would you? Please? Somethin’ nice and soft. You always make it look nice, yeah.”

“Will you hurry and get dressed if I do?”

“Oh, we’re not that late!”

He set her mug down again. “Not your life on the line, is it?” he snarked, but he was unable to keep a small smile from tugging at his lips.

As he gathered her hair in his hands, parting it with expert strokes of his fingers, she sighed her contentment and met his eyes in the mirror. “I’m sorry, Doctor. I love you,” she whispered.

He opened their bond, allowing his love to mingle with hers. “My precious girl, I love you too… but I’d like to be around for many more years to repeat that sentiment.” He granted her a teasing frown, and she responded with a cheeky kiss blown at his reflection. When he rolled his eyes, she chuckled and beamed at him, her tongue peeking out at the corner of her smile.

In minutes he had completed styling her hair, a long, soft braid that meandered down the back of her head. “It just needs… Oh, I know! You get your dress on, and I’ll be back with the finishing touches in two shakes.”

Leaving a bemused Rose in his wake, he rushed out of the bedroom to the kitchen. He had purchased a dozen red roses, intending to present them to her before leaving the flat that evening, but decided they would be put to much better use tucked into her golden plaits. He scrounged in the drawers for the kitchen shears and snipped several of the roses from their stems. He tucked one into the lapel of his jacket (he and Rose would coordinate) and gathered the rest of them up.

When he returned to the bedroom, he was stopped short (nearly spilling the roses from the cradle of his hands) at the sight before him: Rose, resplendent in a deep-red, satin gown. He licked his lips at the sight of her: the v-neck, off-the-shoulder bodice displayed just enough of the soft, round curves of her breasts; and the flowing, floor-length skirt sported a thigh-high slit that exposed the full length of a tawny, toned leg. She was absolutely captivating.

Shaking himself out of his daze, the Doctor swept behind her, beginning his task of nestling the flowers into her tresses. He couldn’t resist planting soft kisses to her bare shoulders and neck as he worked, and she encouraged him with soft hums, as each touch of his lips sent a surge of his arousal along their bond. With one last rose tucked into her braids, he placed a final kiss behind her ear and reluctantly pulled away from her.

“All done. Are you ready, then?”

“Almost…” She stepped back to the vanity and picked up the earrings lying there. She turned to him as she set them in her ears, her dress swirling around her. And then she asked him, “Do I look all right?”

“All right?” No words could properly express the vision of loveliness before him; he stammered, trying to find the right way to describe how she affected him, how in awe of her he was. What eventually came out of his stupid gob was the understatement of the year. He only hoped he had projected enough emotion along with his words for her to understand what he had really meant… “My darling, you look wonderful, tonight.”

[chrysolina]

My million dollar man

A/n - I know that its kinda random and doesn’t lead to anything but I hope you guys enjoy this non-Steve or Chris fic just as much!!

Summary - In such a relationship as yours and Sebastians’, secrecy is vital - so is good foundations. Due to separate issues, neither of you could ever advance further than an in-and-out of office relationship but could things all be up for change soon?

Word Count - 1.9k

Warnings - fluff, breakdown of a marriage, kisses, nothing too bad at all

M A S T E R L I S T

“Yes sir, I’ll be there right away,” The invigorating hum of business oozed through the levels of the tall skyscraper this morning, an accompanying tune to a call you had just finished having a with your boss Mr Stan - the CEO of Marva Finances - and were requested by demand to see him in his office as soon as possible.

Between your other colleagues, you and Mr Stan happened to have a very productive, easy and well understood boss-to-secretary relationship but behind the doors of his office and in the dwellings of private locations within the building, this was quite ‘on the contrary’.

The two of you had a very close, loving and intimate relationship blooming that was indescribably beautiful in every way. Given whatever time of the Mr Stan had, whether it’d be his lunch break or a pre-meeting rundown, the two of you would routinely exchange adoring kisses and would hold each other dearly - as if you’d never see each other again.

If anyone ever knew about your shared innermost feelings with Mr Stan, they could easily say you were deeply in love with each other - however, there was one small problem that your heart couldn't get to grips with.

Sebastian was, indeed, a married man with a doting wife and had a one-year old daughter with her as well.

He claimed it wasn’t a happy marriage, ‘we are unrepairable’ was the phrase he’d say constantly whenever the touchy topic came up but for you, it’s always be a bitter reminder of what you could yet couldn’t have all in one breath.

For such a wild thought, you never dared to dwell on it too much - fearing it’d get into her head and ruin what you had with Sebastian. To you, what you and Sebastian had couldn’t be priced, it was too valuable to the both of you to let slip in an elevator of by a coffee machine - so you kept your walls high and your fences even higher in attempt to conceal the truth.

The walk from your desk wasn’t long enough to calm the raging butterflies in your stomach as you thought over what could happen whilst the two of you were in there. You gave the large metal door three firm knocks and like that, Sebastian had flung the door open and yanked you by the arm quickly into the pristine office space, shutting and locking the door behind.

From what you could vaguely tell, Sebastian wasn’t very happy; the way his usually steel blue eyes shone in admiration at yo had changed into something far darker than lust - even when he paced back to his desk, his stepping was much more rigid and tense than you’d ever seen.

So what on Earth had caused him to act like this?

“Tell me Y/N, have you ever lived in a mansion before?” Sebastian’s deep rugged voice had cut through the well conditioned office space and startled you out of your thought bubble, making you only look at the well dressed man with utter confusion etched on your face.

Sebastian knew damn well that you had only a mere thousand dollars to your name and could barely afford to run your place in the heart of Queens. Not only that but with immigrant parents who escaped their torn up home-country in hope of a better life, he also knew that’d you’d never known what living in the lap of luxury was remotely like - so why the dumb, suppressing question.

“I think you know the answer to that question, sir.” Informalities be damned, you were getting well pissed at your boyfriend’s childish and snarky behaviour and didn’t want to have any more of his - he may be your boss but he certainly wasn’t your keeper.

“Alright, how about this then. Have you ever wanted to live in a mansion before, Miss Y/L/N?” Sebastian’s eyes never strayed of his girlfriend’s delectable form before him, he watched your clasped hands clenched together in some fit of annoyance or rage - deep down he knew what he was doing, he just wasn’t in the mood to go about this any other way.

“Oh c’mon Sebastian! You know the answer to that too. What’s the matter with you this morning?” You found a minute break in his annoyance and whined in aggravation at it, your hands coming to rest on your hips whilst your face turned from stoic to pleading in a matter of seconds. Sebastian merely ignored your question and hunched himself over his glass desk and allowed his head to hang tiredly between his shoulder blades.

“I just want you to give me an answer Y/N!” He huffed in what you knew as a slow bubbling anger - it was only 11am in the morning and he was already this pissed?

You knew straight that this was a big red flag; Sebastian’s usually such a calm and focused man in even the toughest of business or not-so business situations, meaning that this attitude of Sebastian’s was very hard to digest for yourself.

“Then yes Seb, I’d absolutely love to live in a mansion.” You exhaled wearily and ran your fingers through your hair, tugging at the odd strand or two in an attempt to calm your incoming headache and pressure you felt in your temple.

“Y/N, how would you feel if you lived in that house? With me?” Sebastian watched his stressed girlfriend like a hawk and rounded in on you, closing the space between the two of you in a matter of seconds.

You whipped her head back around to Sebastian and stared longingly into those deep steel blue eyes; still not understanding what he was getting at but knowing somewhere deep down that he wanted something from you. “I think I’d feel very very happy Seb,” You all but mewled at the warm touch of Sebastian’s palm resting on your cheek.

“And how would you feel about raising and looking after little ‘Becca with me?” Now you were getting the picture, it may have taken a while but you finally knew what Seb was trying to get out of this exchange. In milliseconds you could feel your Y/E/C eyes widen with astoundment at what he was alluding onto - he couldn’t had been, could he?

Was he really talking about a…future for the two of you?

You grasped Sebastian’s hand into your own and nuzzled into his touch “I’d be absolutely honoured Sebba,” That name - the dragged out Romanian version of his name was his undoing - without a thought, he crashed his lips onto your plush, soft, moist lips with a certain hunger that could never be matched. The two of you had no need to exchange words to finalize the idea he was proposing, Sebastian knew you had caught onto the idea he was alluding to and he couldn’t wait any longer.

After all this time, he’d finally get to openly call you his; his soon-to-be fiancée, his soon-to-be wife and one day if all prevailed, the mother to his children - his heart swelled at the mere thought - the new Mrs Y/N Stan.

God his mother would be so proud once he comes home with you in his arms and a ring safely secured on your ring finger.

Sliding their lips away from each other, you had to reel back in shock over Sebastian’s bold kiss that sprung out of nowhere. Although everything around you seemed heavenly and dream-like, you just couldn’t help but wonder about her - Sebastian’s actual wife.

“Seb, please, just one second.” You tried to detach the eager brunette’s lips from sucking on your neck and jaw any further but was met with harsh resilience, making you sigh in aggravation.

“What’s the matter, my love?” Sebastian muttered into the apex of your jaw and began to suck a hickie into the spot he had stopped at.

“What about y..your wife?!” You gasped at the sensation of Sebastian’s lips on your sensitive skin and clung to his suit in a fit of mercy, the euphoria of the situation and his touches cranked everything up to ten.

“She filed for a divorce at 9 o’clock this morning. Turned out she had been cheating on me for almost four years of our marriage and left ‘Becca all alone in the house last night, unaccompanied.” Sebastian covered his cracked voice in your shoulder and allowed you to rub your soft hands soothingly around his back, the thought of his precious little daughter being left alone for hours upon hours without his knowledge brought the CEO to raging yet heartbroken tears.

He didn’t want to show you those tears, they weren’t meant for you or your compassionate heart but boy did he need to cry right now.

You could feel the laboured breathing on your shoulder and cooed the ex-husband into a whimpering lull, whispering that he was more than allowed to cry at the horror of his daughter being alone nights at a time.

For a good 30 minutes or so, you two stood there in your own bubble blissfully unaware of the world around them, the sound of Sebastian’s cries accompanying your shushes in a harmonic silent masterpiece.

After a lengthy ten minutes stuck together, reeling in the reality of yours and his position, Sebastian refused to move when you asked him, his desires to just hold onto you and pray that the toxic pain would cease and soon go away.

It was true, although he loved you he did love his wife once upon a time, in which during those years together - before you had even came into his life - he tried so hard to cram in as much love, time and affection into their marriage as possible - but alas, she failed him more than he could ever imagine.

He tried so hard and for what? Four out of those five years meaninglessly thrown away; it was a horrific thought for Sebastian - that was until he realised he had you now.

You gave him the love, kindness, time and affection he needed without lifting a finger; you knew what pain and heartache felt like and knew exactly how to console the CEO when he got depressingly drunk and couldn’t stop crying - a sight you’d often have to restrain yourself from getting overly invested in.

And most of all, Sebastian knew you knew how to stay grounded through all the promotions and raises you’d receive from him and his board of executives - it always seemed to be that the more he looked at you and your personality, he found more and more reasons to fall in love with you.

“How are you feeling now, Sebba?” You mumbled into the Romanian’s hair in a hushed soft voice and scratched lightly at his skull with your nails, making the said man hum in utter content at the feeling - even the way you said his name was enough for his heart to skip a beat or two.

He did think, on occasion, how ridiculously much he had given of himself to his own personal secretary - a weak move, he thought; but after raising his head to look into your loving Y/E/C eyes, he hadn’t known such strength before.

You watched in slight pity and confusion as Sebastian quickly brushed himself off and wandered back to his desk and watched as he dialled a quick number and spoke curtly to person on the other side, saying something along the lines of ‘bring her up’ or “bring them up’. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was really bringing up his ex-wife to see the two of you but judging by the coy smile on Sebastian lips, he wasn’t going to do anything of the sort.

“Now, let's introduce ‘Becca to her new mommy to-be, shall we?”

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