#earlier this morning I was rereading posts I made like a year and a half ago abt my

[oldiesstationlover11607]

🎶Oh my God, we’re back again🎶

Well hello….it’s 💛. You said that my requests make you happy and that you don’t mind them so I have returned. By the way, if this ever changes, do not hesitate to tell me. Even if you just don’t want to write TØP anymore. I’m a fan of a lot of fandoms you appear to write for, so I’d probably be able to request other things (again, only if you don’t mind me doing so). For what it’s worth, your stories are the highlight of my day. I frequently reread them when I’m feeling down or in need of an escape.

Alright, enough with my sappiness. You know that meme of the girl explaining something to her mom and the mom is just like 😐 (google “Me explaining to my mom meme” and it should be the first pic that shows up)? I was thinking that a fun story would be Josh trying (and maybe failing) to explain TØP lore to the reader. It doesn’t have to go super in depth to things by any means. I just can imagine that such a scenario has happened before and, quite honestly, half the time I don’t even know the lore. As always, if you hate this idea, no pressure to do it. ❤️❤️

Lore - Josh Dun x Reader

Pairing: Josh x Reader

Warnings: None :)

Word Count: 1374

A/N: I love that you re-read my stuff. It makes me so happy that it’s the highlight of your day. Getting your requests is the highlight of mine, writing helps me relax at the end of the day-especially with how rough it is being in senior year (I’m in the southern hemisphere and finish school late November so exams are imminent 😭). I actually re-read some of mine quite a bit. Honestly I’m so proud of the number 16 cotton candy. The way part 2 ended made me want to cry - I believe I ATE that if I do say so myself 🙌. It makes me want to add more parts, like the reader watching Clancy perform on Good Day Dema and seeing how upset/zoned out he looks and being hurt by it, the conversations they have after reuniting, more of that series’ torchbearer bc he’s funny af, and more! Literally love this request btw bc I tried explaining the lore to my mom and she pulled the exact face in the meme. 

Tyler and Josh were always on social media. It had always been a key part of their relationship with the clique, and I’d noticed it more and more when they started tagging me in memes and pictures that I didn’t know the meanings of. 

“Josh?” I asked. We were sitting on the couch under a blanket in our apartment, the weather outside cold and rainy. Josh looked down at me, I’d planted myself in his lap, my head resting perfectly on his thighs while the rest of my body stretched out across the couch. 

“Yeah?” I brought my phone up to his face. 

“What’s a forest fic and why are the clique tagging me in memes saying you don’t exist?” His face dropped, mouth open wide in shock. “Tyler reposted something about it earlier and I don't get it.” He said nothing, the silence in the room growing with every second. “What?” I could tell he was trying to frame a way to tell me the truth, surely it wasn’t that bad.

“It’s a uh….uhhhh, like a fan fiction. And like….uhhh… I’m like not real in it… like a figment of Tyler’s imagination. Uhh and then a treehouse burns down THE END,” he mumbled, stumbling through the words and giving the worst plot description I’d ever heard. I was still confused. “That’s all you will EVER need to know… no need to look it up or mention it ever again.” He flashed me a quick smile before going back to his phone. I sat there for a few moments trying to understand his words before continuing. 

“But how is that relevant to whatever Tyler posted this morning?” 

He let out a loud sigh, telling me I was starting to get on his nerves. He put down his phone and properly sat up, giving me his full attention.

“It’s related to the lore of the new album, the whole Dema thing,” he explained. I knew that over the last few albums the boys had been telling some big story but that it was too complex to just google and learn about in five minutes. 

“Like how your character is the Torchbearer?” I asked and he nodded in response. “But how is that related to you not existing?”

“Do you really want me to explain the whole lore to you?” he laughed. 

“Yeah, I guess today’s the day.”

Josh had tried to explain everything as clearly as he could but it still didn’t make any sense. He explained that he was called the Torchbearer–which I’d proudly already known–and that Tyler was called Clancy. He also said that Clancy was trying to escape Dema because of the Bishops–I still didn’t really understand the concept of the Bishops… or Dema for that matter. 

“Wait, wait, wait, so you’re saying that there’s like… nine different Bishops?” I asked, trying to get my head around it. 

Josh nodded, “And they’re in charge of different sectors of Dema where the citizens live.” 

“If I’m being 100% honest, I have no idea where we are on the timeline or what the difference between Trench and Dema is,” I laughed. Josh covered his eyes and shook his head. He grabbed his phone, sending off a couple of texts before continuing trying to explain the lore. After about an hour, we both had our computers out, Josh was on the clique side of reddit and I was taking notes, typing frantically. A loud knock sounded from the door and I got up to answer it. It was Tyler, standing in the doorway with a large blanket with ‘twenty one pilots’ printed on it, snacks–including my favorite candy, the mask he’d worn during all the Clancy promotional stuff, a roll of yellow tape, and a stuffed animal which looked like a fat goat. 

“Where’s Josh? I heard there was an emergency and I came prepared,” he spoke, running inside and jumping on the couch next to my boyfriend. Closing the door I chuckled to myself and walked back over to the boys. “Josh said you wanted to learn the lore.”

“Well I tried explaining it to her myself but she wasn’t getting it,” Josh claimed. 

“That’s because you don’t get the lore yourself, come on,” Tyler laughed. He grabbed Josh’s computer and switched the tab to YouTube. “To start with, watch this.” He started playing the band’s ‘The Story’ playlist which featured all of the lore-related music videos. We started with Heavy Dirty Soul–which I’d seen before–and then went on to watch the videos from Trench. 

“Okay so Tyler’s character, Clancy, basically tries escaping Dema but then gets taken back. Josh’s character, the Torchbearer, is in charge of the Banditos–the rebellion group–and gets Tyler–sorry Clancy out of the city and takes him to the camp but then he gets captured again?” 

Tyler nodded, confirming my understanding. We continued watching the music videos till we got to ‘The Outside’. Josh  pulled out the stuffed animal and passed it to me before pressing play. I watched the video, Josh leading Tyler through an island and into a cave. A small gremlin with black eyes, gray horns, and white fur popped onto the screen, the exact same creature the stuffed animal was modeled off of. He jumped about the dark cave mysteriously, leading Tyler to a larger group of them. “Oh my god what is that thing?” I moved into Josh, cuddling up to him, completely stunned at this creature who was both cute and terrifying at the same time. 

“It’s Ned,” he smiled, “it stands for Neuro-Expansion Device.” I nodded and continued to watch the video. Tyler had gotten the horns from Ned and was able to control the dead bishop I’d learned to be Keons. When we finally reached Navigating, Josh paused the video. “This is the video those instagram memes were referring to, the ones Tyler has been reposting.” Tyler pressed play and we sat through the entire thing. The song was catchy and the video showed Josh leading Tyler through the forest and back into Trench after leaving the island Vøldsoy. What I didn’t expect was for Josh’s character to be a figment of Tyler’s imagination and the real Torchbearer to be the Bandito one from the Trench videos. 

“WHAT?!” I gasped, “NO WAY.” There was no way this whole time the Torchbearer was not there for Clancy. I wanted to cry from how sad it was and I had to find out how the story ended. “Wait so what happens next?” 

Tyler sat up and put the computer away, “Well basically we have another music video for Paladin Strait but that’s not coming out for a while. We’ve also got some lore stuff planned for the tour so I’ve got to finalize that soon too.” 

I nodded listening to everything he was saying and trying to remember the few follow up questions I had. “So, the bishops,” I started. 

“Yeah, what about them?” Josh asked, wrapping his arms around me. 

“So I get that Keons and Nico are the main ones but what about the others? Like what kind of a name is Nills?” Tyler laughed loudly, bringing a hand up to his chest.

“They’re from the songs off Blurryface, like Sacarver, “she’s a carver,” he explained. 

“Oh so you went through the lyrics and highlighted things that sounded vaguely like names?” Josh seemed to find that hilarious because he nearly fell off the couch. Tyler however, found it less funny and rolled his eyes. 

“Okay, I think that’s enough for today,” he got up and packed up the blanket. “You can keep the Ned by the way.” I grinned and cuddled him closer to me. 

“Thanks for the help Tyler,” Josh held me against his chest. 

“No worries,” he smiled before leaving the apartment. Josh and I were left to ourselves, the rain still pattered on the roof and I could hear the occasional grumble of thunder. 

“So Torchbearer, what’s the plan for dinner?” I asked, getting up off the couch. I got up, put away all the snacks and drinks while Josh folded up our blankets. 

“You’re never going to stop calling me that are you?” he laughed. 

“What’s that? I can’t see you, maybe you’re not really here.”

//

Hopefully this is good, I wasn't too sure about it but I think it's worth publishing. I'm so glad that I have 💛 anon bc their requests are awesome and I love hearing their feedback. I felt guilty last night about declining a Joshler fic but bc of 💛 saying I should write what I want it felt okay.

[griffinsmith]

he is like a glass vase that is going to get to smashed with a hammer to me

[todaydreambelieversfic]

Author Spotlight: Gleefulpoppet Day 3

Author Spotlight: @gleefulpoppet​​

How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

This is going to sound obnoxious and pretentious (cringing). I’d say at least ten-twelve. I know I’ve read it at least half a dozen times before I send it to my beta reader, and then I reread it when I fix it and then again before I post on AO3. And even after it’s published, I’ve gone back and fixed things.

If you were to revise one of your older fics from start to finish, which would it be and why?

None of my fics are even a year old, but there are some things I would change about Pressed Against the Glass. Nothing major that anyone would notice but me. I’ve learned a lot the last year, and I think I could tighten up some of the structure.

What do you look for in a beta?

Well, my beta fell out of the sky like an angel. I couldn’t find one, so I started posting Pressed Against the Glass last October without one (mind you, this is a 250k word story that I was posting one chapter a day), and JayHawkWrites messaged me on Tumblr to say she’d jump in and edit it for me. We worked on it almost as a full-time job for two weeks because every day, a new chapter was posting and one of those chapters was 18k long! She’s stuck with me since, and I am grateful she was so kind to me.

If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

Oh gosh. I don’t know if I could ever do that! There are so many stories I want more of, though. The ones I can think of are actually ones that have been abandoned, does that count? The two off the top of my head that I would LOVE to read the rest of would be The Nanny by Nellie12 and Night to Night by loveheartlover.

Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?

I take HUGE liberties and write mostly AU. What I find interesting is taking the essential core of a character and then asking myself, “What if?” What if they had grown up in different circumstances? Or if they hadn’t been bullied, or if they met someone earlier or later? It’s taking a character you relate to on some level, putting them inside your own head, and seeing if you can figure them out in a new place or environment. For me, it’s the most fun to think about Klaine out there in a million different realities.

Talk about a review that made your day.

Big heart eyes. Every single comment makes my day. It really does. I wake up every morning with a secret hope that there’s a comment on one of my stories or even kudos. Not out of a need to feed my ego, I promise! It’s because I want to know the story lives on somewhere… That it’s not lost. It’s the feeling like all of a sudden we share this connection. A moment as author and reader where we both know the same story, and there is something about that that makes me so happy.

Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?

I haven’t yet (thank you!). I’m not a confrontational person though, so I’d just delete it if it was mean for the sake of being mean. If they had some constructive criticism or a genuine concern or question I would reply to the best of my ability.

What advice do you have to people just starting to write?

Keep going! Dive in! Write it! There is never perfection—only progress. And, the solution and resolution are always in the doing. You are never going to get better at writing stories if you aren’t writing. Jump in; there is ALWAYS room for you!

Which fic do you most like to discuss with other people? Why?

I loved having a few pretty in-depth discussions with people about Pressed Against the Glass. It was wonderful to make some new fandom friends with that story. It was my first multi-chapter fanfic, and people were so kind! That was a fun time in my life to get messages on Tumblr about that story and what it meant to people.

What's one aspect of writing fic that gets you really excited?

That anything is possible. We’ll never run out of words or ideas. There is nothing finite about it. The connections I make as a writer to the characters I create in my head and the connection to the readers through comments. It’s beautiful synergy, and I feel blessed to be on this journey right now with my writing!

***

Check out Gleefulpoppet’s Fics

A Glimpse at the Life of Anderson & Hummel [aka Verse Table of Contents] -  We're breaking the 4th wall with this one. Read all the juicy details in "A Glimpse at the Life of Anderson & Hummel," an exclusive story by Sabie Blathers for New York magazine In the Know: An Insider’s Guide to Today’s Fanfiction. It *includes* the first look at the Anderson-Hummel infamous spreadsheet.

Please Remind Me Who I Really Am -  He may feel broken, but is there light on the horizon? A glimpse at what happens to Blaine after Chapter 1 in the Pressed Against the Glass story. (You will want to read at least through Chapter 4 in the main story before reading this one-shot).

Two Pumpkins & Twenty Monkeys -  The boys decide to stay home for Halloween, but when Kurt discovers a mysterious box in the back of Blaine's closet, it turns out to be the best decision ever.

[sugako]

confessions

pairing: pretimeskip!daichi x tinytitty!reader

synopsis: reader is trying to confess to daichi but gets discouraged when she sees his ‘type’ is not who she is on the club room poster

warnings: angst, fluff, body insecurities (specifically insecurities about having a smaller chest), insecurities about finding love

a/n: this one is a little long..i keep seeing the post about the karasuno’s boys ‘types’ in the club room from forever ago and ive been thinking about this

You were trembling as you stepped up to the club room. The year was nearly over and you were about to graduate. Part of you, well actually most of you, believed it was stupid to do this now. The light pink envelope fluttered in your fingertips like a leaf in the fall breeze. It all felt so corny and stupid.

It wasn’t his fault, Sugawara had encouraged you. In all your years of being in the same class, you weren’t exactly close, but you had formed a bond over schoolwork. He noticed right away when you and Daichi had been paired up for a project. The way both you and Daichi had blushed when he asked you to call him by his first name was enough for him. 

From there he had facilitated what he had considered dates, always slipping away early so it was just you and Daichi. Still, nothing ever came of it. You were too unaware of your feelings for so long that you never tried to be anything more than friends. Some deeper part of you knew, but you were busy with school and extracurriculars and you knew that Daichi was busy with the same. Besides, in your opinion, he had never really shown that he was interested. 

Sure, you texted about nothing and everything. He brought you hot tea some mornings before an exam and you accidentally cooked too much of his favorite ramen more than once and asked for him to come over and finish it with you. Just friends and nothing more. 

But you couldn’t deny the way your heart raced when his fingers brushed yours or when you locked eyes for a little too long. 

So now you were fidgeting in the club room alone because Sugawara had encouraged you and let you in. He was waiting now just outside the door, only making you more nervous. To steady your breathing you looked at the things around you. That’s when you saw it. In the back corner a poster with the upperclassmen preferences in women. 

At first, you giggled and gagged at a couple of them, but your eyes traveled to his name. You knew you shouldn’t have read it. You knew you shouldn’t even be here. This was wrong and stupid and he didn’t like you. You looked down at your own chest.

I’m not what he wants… 

Your brain was buzzing with shame and pain so loud you didn’t even hear the door open and close. 

“Y/N? Suga said you wanted to see me.” 

You jumped and stuffed the envelope in a side pocket of your backpack. Blinking back tears that threatened to spill over, you turned around. Your chest tightened at the sight of him. He was handsome as always and looked so concerned now. 

“Oh, it was nothing, I just… uh, have you seen, uh, I lost a notebook. I think I left it in the classroom though I just remembered.” The lie slipped off your tongue unevenly. 

“You can use my notes if you need.”

“No, no!” You answered a little too fast, already pushing past him. “I’m just gonna go check the room.”

“See ya.” It almost sounded like he was asking a question the way he said it. 

“Yeah, bye!” You chirped, already crashing through the door. 

You nearly crashed into Suga on your way out.

“How’d it--” 

“I didn’t.” You answered not meeting his eyes and walking past him. 

“Wait, y/n--” 

You were already gone, half jogging home while tears spilled over your eyes. 

“I’m being so dramatic.” You spoke aloud to yourself as soon as you were safely away from the school. “I shouldn’t get so upset over something so stupid.” You sniffled, wiping the tears away. It really was nothing, but as soon as you read that you couldn’t help from every insecurity you had creeping up into your head.

Small chest.

He doesn’t like you. 

No one will ever like you. 

No one will love you. 

You hated how you tumbled like that from one little thing. While you were aware of how ridiculous it was, it didn’t stop you from tumbling into your own personal pit of despair. 

You reached back to grab the envelope to throw it out in a garbage bin on the street. When you felt nothing, you panicked and ripped your bag off. There was nothing in either side pocket. In a fit, you went through all the pockets of your bag even though you knew what had happened. You looked behind you down the road. There was no sign of a pink envelope. 

Taking a heaving breath, you began to trudge back to the school. 

Hopefully, no one has picked it up. 

“Y/N, you…” Daichi peeked his head out the door right after you left, “She’s gone.”

Suga looked up from where he had been watching you walk off. 

“Oh, yeah. What’d she say.”

“She lost a notebook, but this letter dropped out of her bag.” He held it up. 

Suga smirked. 

“It has your name on it, turn it over.” 

Daichi flipped the envelope and a bright red flush filled his cheeks. 

“You should open it.” Suga walked past him into the room. 

“She… she didn’t give it to me, she just dropped it.” 

“It’s addressed to you.” He said without looking up. 

“That’s… I mean, yeah, but I don’t think I…” 

“Do you have feelings for her?” Suga couldn’t stand to listen to his clueless friend babble on like this. 

Daichi was silent until Suga finally looked at him. 

“I care about her.”

Suga sighed and jabbed him in the side. 

“Listen, it’s pretty obvious that you like her so you should just read that letter to see how she feels!” 

“Agh!” Daichi recoiled from the jab, clutching his side. “I do, I really like her, but she…” 

“But she what?! She wrote you a pink letter that she was too nervous to give to you and ran away, what’s confusing about this?” 

Daichi rolled his eyes and sat on the floor, clutching the letter tightly. He admired how you had written his name for just too long before carefully peeling at the close of the envelope. 

A small cream-colored piece of stationery flitted into his hand. Your handwriting he had silently admired from afar for so long filled the page with pretty words and memories. You had explained yourself in full. His heart ached toward the end of the short letter where you wrote about how you were unsure of how he felt, but assumed he didn’t share the feelings. 

His eyes grew glossy as he reread it over and over again. He hadn’t even noticed Suga had left the room.

“Daichi?” Now your soft voice made him jump. 

His heart broke when he saw the redness around your eyes and wet streaks on your cheeks. You looked so full of fear and regret. 

“Y/N, I…” He stood and walked to where you were frozen in the doorway. 

“You can pretend you didn’t read that. Or we can stop being friends if it makes you uncomfortable. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to drop it!” You started up, wiping away the tears that were spilling over once more. 

“Wait, I…why didn’t you give this to me earlier?” 

“Well, you… I know you don’t like me, so I just felt dumb and I don’t know. It was a bad idea. I don’t know what I was thinking.” 

“I like you, why would you think I don’t?” 

He said it so confidently and calmly it surprised himself. You barely processed it, still caught up in your own head. 

“I just, I mean, I saw…” You glanced over toward the poster and looked away ashamed. “Wait, you like me?” You perked up and looked at him again as he was glancing over his shoulder. A deep blush and a look of shame and embarrassment filled his features as he looked back to you finally meeting your eyes. 

He pulled you close, arms wrapping around your shoulders. Slowly, you brought your arms around his waist. 

“It was just a silly thing where we wrote our types a while ago, but you… you’re still my type because I like you. I don’t really care about stuff like that.”

You stayed like that for a long moment, with your face trapped against his chest. 

“Sorry, I ran away like that. That was a little dramatic.” You giggled. “Also…” you cut yourself off by laughing too hard. Worried you were crying he held you back to look at your face, his features softening when he realized you were just wheezing. “Suga likes older women?!” 

He broke out in a deep laugh, the pressure of the situation dissipating. 

“I’m not trying to judge him, I was just surprised!” You carried on. 

“Us too!” He gasped through laughs. 

After a few moments, you had both settled down and settled back into each other’s arms. 

“We should probably go on a real date now, huh. Can’t keep making Suga force us to go out and then leave us.” 

You tried to hide your face in his jacket, smiling widely. 

“That sounds nice.” 

[multisfabulis]

Wayfinder’s Voyage

Oceanic (Chapter 1 | 2)

Word Count: 5785

I hope everyone enjoyed reading this! I'm honestly super anxious while I'm typing this because, not only is this my first fic in the KH fandom, this is also my first ship fic so I'm feeling a lot of pressure.

I want to apologize if the characters seem OOC in this, I was mainly going off of memory and a Wiki because I didn't want to sit through an entire LP of BBS just to get a few details accurate. It already took me a month and a half to write all of this and I didn't want to take up more time.

I do have more Terraqua fics in the works, as well as a couple other KH fics in general, but those will probably be posted way later. I just wanted to test the waters with this fic and see how I do so...

So some things to note:

*Both Aqua and Terra's first scenes in this fic were made entirely for the purpose of giving them build-up while not diminishing Ven's importance to them. I was already going to be fucking with canon a lot but I also didn't want to leave Ven to the wayside so I created those scenes. You'll see Terra's in the next chapter.

*I feel the need to apologize for the second half of the second scene because that still feels like word barf, even when I know why I wrote it like that. I hope the intention behind those words is still conveyed clearly but I'll understand if it's not.

*As for the last scene, I completely misremembered the sequence of events leading up to the end. I already knew that scene was going to be changed somewhat just for the context of the ship but I think it's pretty clear which parts I changed on purpose and which parts I was winging it. It's been years since I last watched that scene, it was super late into the night, this was my third rewrite, and I felt satisfied with my work before realizing I fucked up and decided to go along with it.

Read on AO3 | Read on DA | Support me on Ko-fi!

     Today started out like any other normal day. Aqua woke up, did her morning regimen, and set off for the great hall to begin her studies. She and Terra, her friend/rival, were to train under the watchful eye of their master Eraqus in the hopes of coming one step closer to fulfilling their lifelong dream. They would one day surpass the rank of apprentice and become Keyblade Masters in their own right, something she wished would arrive sooner rather than later.

     Then came time for their daily duel. They would often spar with each other as a way of proving their capabilities in battle, seeing what areas they could use improvement in, and showing off the techniques they had learned from past fights. This seemed to be no different from their previous clashes.

     She was on the defense, blocking and deflecting each blow Terra threw her way with relative ease. He managed to find an opening she didn’t account for and all but jumped on the opportunity. He charged in, his Keyblade held high, and she only had a split second to raise hers in an attempt to guard against it. Yet, whether it was due to a miscalculation on his part or her just reacting too slow, he ended up hitting her unarmored wrist. She quickly backed away, letting out a cry of pain as both Keyblades were dismissed in a flash of light. Eraqus rushed over to check if she was okay.

     Terra was beside her with remorseful apologies spilling out of his mouth but she barely paid them any heed. Her eyes were focused on something much more alarming, something she knew Eraqus saw too. Emanating from Terra’s hand was an aura of Darkness, which vanished as soon as he noticed it. He tried to defend himself to Eraqus but the damage was already done.

     Their master had an almost zealous hatred for Darkness, believing it’d bring nothing but destruction in its wake, and sought to rid the Land of Departure of any, even if some laid dormant in his apprentices’ hearts. This was a constant problem for Terra, who always seemed to harbor enough to fall back on, be it consciously or not. For it to flare up during training, that drew Eraqus’s ire.

     It was hard not to feel sorry for Terra as he was being harshly scolded. It wasn’t like he was trying to use Darkness, at least not intentionally. She knew that it was only an accident but it wouldn’t help stop the shame he undoubtedly felt. He’ll probably curse himself for being too weak and letting Darkness in yet again once he thought no one was around, an occurrence she’s been privy to more than she had any right to be. She needed to talk with him once she had her wrist taken care of.

     With a hand on her back, Eraqus began leading her out of the great hall. She looked over her shoulder to catch one last glimpse of Terra before leaving. He hung his head in shame as he clenched his fists in what she believed to be anger. It was just as she expected. She turned her head back to face forward, hoping he wouldn’t blame himself more than he already was.

     They made their way over to the infirmary, where Eraqus gently took hold of her wrist to examine it. She could see now how bruised and swollen it was from the impact as she winced with every slight movement. He was able to determine she had a sprained wrist, which she regarded as a miracle. With the amount of force Terra had in his swing, she was thankful it didn’t result in a break. She was to keep it wrapped and iced for a couple days till it healed, something she had no problem with.

     After it was bandaged, she was told to take it easy until then. She asked Eraqus about Terra and he said he’d have a talk with him once enough time had passed for things to settle down. There was an undercurrent of regret in his voice, made even clearer by the expression on his face. Their master may be strict but he still cared for them, similar in the way a father would for his children. This gave her some hope in that he realized what happened was an accident and he’d forgive Terra. Time would only tell.

     She spent the rest of the day in the library. She figured she’d get some studying done if she couldn’t practice with her Keyblade for the next few days. Try as she might, though, she could barely focus on the words she was reading and that was if she didn’t reread the sentence to understand it. Her mind kept wandering to Terra, whether he was okay or not, and what he was doing right now. Worry gnawed at her heart until she couldn’t take it anymore. The sun was beginning to cast orange and violet hues across the sky when she decided and rushed out to find him.

     He wasn’t in the great hall or his room when she looked in. Searching all around the building yielded no results, either. She wondered where he could be, her anxiety growing as she saw night quickly approaching. He had to still be in the Land of Departure and the only place she hadn’t checked yet was the mountain. She ran out to the Forecourt and then beyond its boundary.

     Stars were twinkling into existence by the time she reached the winding path leading up to the mountain. If it weren’t for the lights set alongside the dirt road, she would’ve been stumbling about blindly in the dark. It was when she arrived at the overlook just before the summit she found him.

     His back faced her as she saw that he was sitting on the edge of the cliff. Taking a few steps closer revealed him to be looking down below the mountain with an indiscernible expression. It was troubling to see him like this. What happened earlier today had to be weighing heavily on his mind.

     Tentatively walking forward, she called out, “Terra?”

     He stiffened and quickly turned around to face her, asking a barrage of questions like, “Aqua, are you okay? How’s your wrist? Is it bad? It’s bad, isn’t it?”

     “No, no, it’s all right, see?” she replied, showing him her bandaged wrist. “Master said it was only a sprain and that it should be okay in a couple days as long as I took it easy.”

     He let out a sigh of relief, no doubt feeling some of the guilt be lifted off his shoulders. “That’s good. I don’t think I would’ve forgiven myself if I managed to break your wrist.”

     “Well, you didn’t, so don’t beat yourself up over it, okay?”

     Silence fell between them. She noticed him staring at her wrist with clouded eyes, despite her assurances of being fine. Before she could think of a way to broach the issue at hand, he spoke up.

     “Aqua, I’m…I’m sorry about what happened earlier. I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt you, it was an accident, and---”

     “I know, I know! You don’t need to apologize, I know you would never try and hurt me,” she interjected, trying to comfort him. “I’m more worried about you and how you’re doing after Master had those…words with you.”

     He averted his eyes from her. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen Eraqus scold Terra like he had before and those always left him feeling horrible with himself. She was used to being the one to get him back to normal but something told her this wouldn’t be as easy as previous times.

     Turning away from her, he said, “I deserved it. Master was right, I could’ve seriously hurt you.”

     “But you didn’t and that’s what matters,” she replied.

     “I was wielding Darkness, Aqua!” he exclaimed, taking her aback. He ran a hand through his hair before continuing on, “I thought it was gone. I thought I had it under control but I guess I don’t. Maybe it never left.”

     “Terra…” She walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be okay. You’ve gotten rid of Darkness before, you can do it again. You just have to---”

     He brushed her off. “What if I don’t? What if I’ll always have Darkness inside me?”

     “What are you saying?”

     “Maybe I’m not meant to be a Keyblade Master. Maybe I’m just destined to fall into darkness. It’s my fate to lose my heart and become a Heartless.”

     “That won’t happen, Terra. You’re strong enough to resist it and---”

     “What if I’m not, Aqua? How else would you explain why I keep having Darkness come out of me? You can’t, can you?”

     To her horror, he was right. There was no way she could explain why Darkness lingered inside him, even with the numerous attempts to rid himself of it. It wasn’t because he had a weak heart, that much she was certain. So what was the connection between the two? Was Terra right in that he was destined to fall into darkness, either by losing his heart or some other means?

     The thought rocked her to the core. She didn’t want to believe his fate was to be lost in a hellish abyss until he was put out of his misery. He was her dear friend and he deserved so much more than being reduced to a lowly Heartless. She refused to accept it, which was why she decided to do something about it.

     “You won’t fall into darkness, Terra,” she affirmed, stepping around him to meet his gaze. “I know it.”

     “How? How can you be so sure?” he asked.

     “Because I won’t let you.” She took hold of his hand in a gentle yet firm grip. “I promise I won’t let you fall into darkness.”

     He seemed genuinely shocked by her words. She meant what she said and she planned on upholding her promise. It may be hard and it may even be treacherous at times but it’d all be worth it if he remained in the light.

     “And, if you do fall, I promise to always guide you back home,” she added, giving his hand a squeeze.

     “...You have that much faith in me, huh?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

     “Why wouldn’t I?” She cupped his cheek. “You’re my friend, Terra, and I know you’re strong enough to resist its temptation. I’ll just be there to remind you every so often.”

     He said nothing, instead deciding to pull her into a hug. She was surprised by this, seeing as how he wasn’t a very affectionate person, at least in the physical aspect. She was about ready to question him on why he was doing this when she heard him whisper in her ear:

     “Thank you, Aqua, for believing in me.”

     Her heart fluttered in her chest from the sincerity in his voice. She could sometimes be slow on the uptake but this had to be a new record. It was only now she realized just how much her vow must’ve touched him and how badly he must’ve been feeling before she showed up. She was glad to have cheered him up some. Thus, she returned the hug and answered,

     “You’re welcome.”

     Terra wasn’t going to fall into darkness, not if she had anything to say about it. He won’t be led astray. She’d be his anchor to the realm of light. A promise is a promise, which she wholly planned to keep.

     Aqua breathed in deep and touched the tip of her paintbrush on the small piece of glass sitting in front of her. Drawing it upwards left the top half in a pretty shade of cyan blue. She continued to paint with delicate and meticulous strokes until she was satisfied with her work. The bottom half was then covered in a dark blue, which almost matched the ocean she imagined in her mind. Once the piece of glass was completely painted over, she gingerly picked it up and set it aside to dry. One down, four more to go before she moved on to the next phase.

     She was in the process of making her Wayfinder. She already crafted two others that happened to be sitting off to the side, one in amber and one in green. She hoped to give them to Terra and Ven soon once she was done creating hers. Seeing as how she and Terra were meant to have their Mark of Mastery exam in the near future, they were meant to be good luck charms and Ven was getting one simply because it’d be unfair if he was left out. They also had another purpose to them, something she thought was rather poignant and was the main reason she wanted them.

     Wayfinders were said to be designed after star-shaped fruit called Paopu, which were also said to tie friends together. If they carried these on them, nothing would drive them apart. They’d even help find one’s way back to them if they were ever lost. It may be silly of her to believe in this but it struck a chord within her when she first heard it and, in some ways, she wanted it to be true.

     The question of what would happen after she and Terra aced their exam had weighed heavily on her mind for some time. Eraqus had told them they could either travel beyond the Land of Departure and expand their horizons or succeed him and protect their world from Darkness. They hadn’t decided yet but she wondered what the aftermath of her choice would be. Would she choose to leave or stay? Whatever it may be, it meant Terra would have to contend with the other. Maybe the reason this was troubling her so much was because a part of her deep down was afraid of losing the two people she considered to be her best friends.

     She knew she had nothing to be scared of yet she worried all the same. It wasn’t like the bonds she shared with Ven and Terra were so weak, they’d break upon setting foot outside their home. Their strength would remain steadfast, even if the three of them were far apart from each other. She just needed to remind herself of that whenever she was lost in her thoughts.

     The last glass piece was painted and she put it beside the others to dry. With that out of the way, the next thing to do would be setting the five glass pieces into place and soldering them to the frame so they wouldn’t fall out when she held the Wayfinder facing up. It was too late to do it tonight but she would get straight to it after her training tomorrow.

     She glanced over to where the other two Wayfinders were sitting. She stood up from her desk, reached her hand out to grab them, and sat back down. They shone brilliantly under the golden light pouring in from her window. A lot’s happened over the last few years.

     She never thought Eraqus would take in another apprentice but it was at the behest of an old friend so that’s how Ventus came into the picture. Fragile was the best word to describe him when they first met, like he could collapse at any moment. It fit him even more when he actually did from Terra’s bombardment of questions, falling into an almost come-like state for several days. Her skepticism as to whether he was capable of becoming a Keyblade Master only grew when Eraqus said he was amnesiac and that was why he fainted. How could someone like him become Master when he was so weak, for lack of a better term?

     Yet he managed to prove her wrong. The more time he spent with the two of them, the stronger he got, to the point he was able to keep up with them in battle. He wasn’t as powerful as Terra or as magically gifted as her but he made up for it with swiftness and sheer tenacity. The only reason he wasn’t taking the Mark of Mastery exam along with them was because of his age, though she believed it was also due to him needing to outgrow some things, like his rebellious streak for example. He’d be a great Keyblade Master one day, she was sure of it.

     Terra’s changed so much over the years. He was no longer a child struggling to keep his head above water as he flailed his Keyblade about. He’s grown into a strong and capable man she was proud to call her friend and rival. He’d be her fellow Master in due time as well and then they’d stand together to protect both theirs and many other worlds from Heartless someday. At least, that’s what she envisioned before things somehow became different between them.

     She couldn’t quite explain what changed between her and Terra. It wasn’t like the way they interacted with each other was different from normal. They still met up every day to talk and train so that couldn’t be it. The only thing she noticed was…well, things she had never really noticed from him before. Not that they were never there but they were only starting to make themselves known to her.

     Before Ven, she’d only seen three sides to Terra. The dutiful pupil to their master, the reliable confidant to her, and the introspective self-doubter when he thought he was alone. It was only after Ven entered their circle she saw the kind and protective side of him, almost like he was an older brother to him. She always knew those qualities existed within him but it was different seeing them in action to someone other than her. It’s only now she’s really acknowledged them.

     He was still her friend but there was a deeper meaning now. Her feelings towards him were different than her feelings towards Ven and maybe that was because she’s known him practically all her life as opposed to the four years for Ven. Maybe all this was was her growing up and becoming an adult, which meant changing feelings and realizing that things were going to be different for her now, whether she liked it or not. Throw in the anxiety of potentially drifting away from him and she was left with a jumbled up mess of complications she struggled to put a label on.

     All this was doing was giving her a headache. She should be focusing on the road ahead instead of thinking herself into a corner and letting her mind run wild. She’s so close to accomplishing her dream and she couldn’t risk anything jeopardizing it. Whatever answers she wanted, she’d find them after becoming Master.

     She looked down at the Wayfinders still held in her hands and pressed them close to her chest. She let out a heavy sigh as she tried to calm herself. Different was new but it didn’t have to be bad. Change was a part of everyone’s lives and she and Terra were no exceptions.

     Things may be different between them but it didn’t mean they were bad. It could mean they were good and she just couldn’t see how yet. As long as they were together, nothing truly bad would happen. That’s what she hoped.

     Aqua sat at the end of the dock, watching the sun set over the horizon. A warm, pleasant breeze was blowing through, carrying with it the strong scent of salt. She could hear the ocean’s waves rolling along the sandy shore and leaves from the trees behind her rustling. This was everything she imagined a beach to be like. The only things missing from it were Terra and Ven.

     The Destiny Islands was what this world was called. She only stopped by with the intention of taking a short rest but it was after reality began to sink in she had to give herself something more than that. She needed a moment where she could think clearly, decompress, and just breathe. She needed this before going back out there and starting the whole process over again. That’s where she was now.

     Where did it all go wrong? She finally managed to achieve her dream of becoming a Keyblade Master but it felt like a hollow victory when it turned out Terra failed the exam on account of his Darkness flaring up again. Then she was asked by their master to keep an eye on him in case he strayed too close to darkness, which she didn’t agree with but knew it was out of concern for him so she followed. It was through that she learned of the questionable acts seemingly committed by Terra and it caused her to doubt him and his resolve. When she met up with him and Ven at Radiant Garden and she revealed the truth of her being there, their trust in her was shattered.

     Then she found out Ven was being hunted down by a masked boy, who had ties to Master Xehanort. He’d been pulling strings behind the scenes and he was dragging Terra along for the ride. An encounter with the masked boy in Neverland left her exhausted yet she still trudged on before arriving here. All she was trying to do was make things right so why did it turn out like this?

     Maybe she wasn’t cut out to be a Master. They were supposed to keep the balance between light and dark, protect the worlds from malevolent forces. If she couldn’t even protect her best friends, the two people she treasured above all else, then what good was she? Eraqus was wrong in making her a Master, much less his successor. She never should have become one.

     She took out her Wayfinder and just held it. The orange hue of the sunset washed away the once vibrant blue into something dull and dark. Her heart grew heavier the longer she looked at it, running her thumb over the token in the center. Nothing would drive them apart, huh?

     It was never that she thought of Ven as weak or doubted his capabilities. It was never, ever that. She just wanted him to be safe, to be unharmed because she knew she couldn’t always be there to save him. There was a part of her that still viewed him as the fragile boy she first met who fell comatose from one too many questions. Sure, he’s grown much stronger since then, but she felt the need to protect him regardless. He was her dear friend and she wouldn’t know how to live with herself if he got hurt and she wasn’t there to help him. She’d rather have him hate her for being overbearing than risk losing him because she wasn’t cautious.

     She wished she could express how sorry she was to Terra. She vouched for him to Eraqus, swearing he was strong enough to resist the dark temptations, yet hearsay was all it took for her to lose faith in him. Xehanort’s machinations framed him as someone he wasn’t and she fell for it so easily. It honestly pissed her off that he was manipulating and taking advantage of Terra and his trusting nature. While he wasn’t exactly innocent in this, it was clear as to who the real mastermind was. She wanted so badly to apologize to him, to tell him she should never have doubted him.

     Her grip on the Wayfinder tightened as she felt her eyes beginning to burn. Did they have theirs still, she wondered. She wanted to believe they did but was it childishly naive of her to cling to that narrow hope?

     She was a horrible friend to them. She caused one to lose faith in her and she may as well have betrayed the other. She may have pushed Ven too far away for him to come back and drove Terra further into the darkness. She wouldn’t fault them for wanting nothing to do with her anymore. She wouldn’t, either, if the roles were reversed. Were their bonds now severed?

     No, they couldn’t be. The magic she placed on each of their Wayfinders was still active and she could still feel Terra and Ven’s hearts through hers. That had to be her silver lining in this. Even if the cord connecting the three of them together frayed till it was only a thread, that thread was unbreakable.

     She needed to protect them. She couldn’t let Xehanort and that masked boy do whatever they wanted with them. They wouldn’t hesitate to save her if she were in the same position so she shouldn’t, either. They were precious to her, she’d do anything, even give her life, if it meant they’d be safe.

     She stood up from the dock, Wayfinder still in her hand, and looked up at the now starry sky. She didn’t know where they were but she didn’t need to. Her heart was going to be her guiding key.

     They needn’t worry much longer. She was going to find them and the three of them were going to stop whatever Xehanort had planned. Then they would share one more night under the stars, like they had all that time ago.

     May they find a way to each other once more.

     Aqua watched on in horror as the man in front of her stabbed his Keyblade into his chest. She wanted to cry out his name but she couldn’t find the strength within her to do so, having thoroughly exhausted herself from their fight earlier. His body went slack, his Keyblade vanishing into thin air, as a portal of swirling darkness opened beneath him. He fell back and, quickly realizing where it led to, she dove in after him.

     She had to save him. It may not have been Terra, not completely, but his heart was still in his body, she just knew it. Why else would he have let her go when he was so close to finishing her off? She couldn’t leave him to wander in the Realm of Darkness for all eternity. Even if it meant bringing Xehanort back, she’d never forgive herself for doing that to him if he was still in there. She made him a promise and she was damn well going to keep it.

     The first thing she noticed was how cold it was. It wasn’t freezing but it was still too chilly for her liking, evident from her shivering. She felt like she was stuck in an empty black void as she searched around for any sign of Terra. She was eventually able to find a dim light just a few meters below her, a light she recognized as his. Summoning her Keyblade, she changed its form to that of her Glider and raced towards the light, not once taking her eyes off it.

     It didn’t take long to reach him. The light grew dimmer and dimmer the closer she got before dimming completely upon seeing him. He looked to be just sleeping, even when he was plummeting straight down to what she considered to be hell. She grabbed onto his arm and struggled to lift him onto her Glider, only managing to accomplish that feat by sheer force of will. Giving him a quick once-over revealed no visible wounds and he seemed to be breathing normally. Relieved that he was physically all right, she turned the Glider around and began heading back up.

     She had him and he was going to be okay. They would be back in Radiant Garden soon and she was going to fix him. She and whoever else could help her were going to find a way to get Xehanort’s heart out of him. Then she and him would go home and wake Ven up, like she said they would. They’d be together again. Their master may be gone now but they’d have each other to lean on and support. The hope of them being reunited again was the only thing keeping her going at this point. After everything that’s happened, she needed this to come true. She almost wanted to pray to whatever power there be to grant her wish, to give her this.

     Well, a deity or some other higher being there was heard her and sneered. Her heart dropped once she saw the portal they came in from starting to close. They were still so far away and it was shrinking with each passing second. It would be gone by the time they reached it, leaving them stuck in the Realm of Darkness with no way out. She looked over at Terra’s unconscious form and, knowing what had to be done, made her choice without any hesitation.

     That was when it hit her. She finally found her answer and she wanted to scold herself for taking so long to realize it. She finally knew what Terra was to her and it was so easy, so simple to understand that there was really no excuse. He wasn’t just a friend to her, he was more than that, he deepened beyond that. It was only natural, in some ways, for her to have fallen for him.

     She loved him. She loved everything about him, from his ability to want to see the good in people to his devotion to her and Ven. She can scarcely remember a life where he wasn’t a part of it nor did she want such a life. He was irreplaceable, someone she confided in, a man she could talk to about anything without fear of judgment. He was her rock, her dearly beloved. She loved him, which was why she was able to decide on her fate with little regret.

     She was going to take his place. Her promise came out of a love different from what it was now but she planned to uphold it all the same. Her love for Terra was stronger than her hatred of the man possessing him and she couldn’t bear to leave him behind to die in a hellish wasteland. It only hurt to know she wouldn’t be there to help guide him back home, to her and Ven.

     She disembarked from her Glider and went around to the side. Terra appeared to be holding onto the handles somewhat, which seemed to be the only reason he was staying on it instead of falling. She brushed the back of her hand against his cheek before resting it on his, giving it a gentle squeeze. She was going to miss him when she was gone but this was for the best.

     “We’ll meet again someday.” She squeezed his hand again. “Even if so much time has passed, we’ll meet again.” She was giving both him and herself false hope. “I’ll always be with you, okay?” She didn’t believe she would find a way out. “Goodbye, Terra.”

     Then she let go and began falling. She didn’t take her eyes off him once as she fell, even when it became too dark for her to see him clearly. She wanted him to be the last thing she saw if she were to possibly die in the next few moments. She only wished she could’ve amended things between her, Terra, and Ven before their grand battle in the Keyblade Graveyard but she was resigned to contend with this. She’d be okay with taking that regret to her grave.

     Tears rolled down her cheeks but she smiled through them. She saved him from a fate of wandering the dark realm alone. She hoped Terra would win out in his fight against Xehanort and reclaim his body as the image of him finally disappeared from her sight. Maybe, just maybe, they’d meet again in the next life.

     She closed her eyes as she let the darkness overtake her. It was then she heard herself say those three little words that carried with them so much meaning. Whether she said them aloud or she only imagined she did, it didn’t matter. All she wanted was for those words to reach Terra’s heart, to let him know why she did what she did. That was her last thought before succumbing to the cold.

     “I love you.”

[jamespotterthefirst]

Ocean Eyes (Ethan x F!MC)

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 2,400 + Warning: Adult language, adult situations Premise: When Ethan posts a daring picture, she responds just how he hoped.  Part 2 of Lovely.  Tags: @openheart12​ | @ethandaddyramsey​ | @noboundariesplease​ | @silverlitskies​ | @the-soot-sprite | @infinitiestones |  @emotionalswift2 | @flyawayboo |  @paulfwesley | @hatescapsicum​| @myusualnerdyself​ | 

_______________________________________

Donahue's was far more crowded that night than its usual Friday night tally. The dance floor she had just inhabited with Bryce was brimming with twice the number of dancing couples, all drunker and louder than usual. Lilac didn't mind, though. Everyone in general seemed to be having a good time and the high spirits were almost contagious. 

Before she could stop herself, her eyes darted to the same spot at the bar where they had been wandering to all night. He was still there, completely disinterested in the revelry around him, his attention instead on the nearly empty glass of scotch in his hand. He seemed to sense she was looking at him because his piercing blue eyes locked on hers for the first time that night.

 Ethan's expression, as usual, was unreadable but the way he looked at her sent a spike of adrenaline through her body. It was almost painful, like looking directly at the sun. Lilac could not look away. 

“Lil?”

“Hmm?” she said, finally breaking away from Ethan's spell to look up at Bryce. 

Bryce, seemed unfazed by her distraction. If he noticed her exchange with Ethan, he didn't comment on it. “I was saying my surgeon buddies want a game of darts. Want to come with?” 

Just then, a tiny figure dropped down next to Lilac in the booth, breathless and flushed. “Don't even think about stealing her away into enemy territory, Lahela,” teased Sienna. “You've been hogging her all night.”

Bryce put up his hands in defeat with his signature, dazzling laugh. “No arguments from me. I know better than to mess with you, Trinh.” Giving them both a mock salute and a wink, he strutted off to meet his friends. 

Sienna laughed. Once Bryce was out of earshot, she took a hold of Lilac's arm and leaned in to say in a lovely sing-song voice, “You have an admirer.”

Lilac didn't have to look to know she meant Ethan. “My goodness, he is giving you some serious bedroom eyes,” her friend commented with wonder. 

“That's how he always looks.”

“That's how he always looks at you,” Sienna corrected. “Any updates?”

Lilac gave her a noncommittal shrug. 

“Things are still…weird,” she allowed, even though “weird” was a poor descriptor. Things between them were downright tense and miserable since their phone call a few days ago. 

Lilac cringed inwardly at the memory. Leave it to her to get plastered enough to desperately throw herself at him. Where had she found the courage? Was she really that desperate for Ethan Ramsey? She knew the answer to that immediately. 

Sensing the shift in her mood, Sienna rubbed her forearm comfortingly. “This calls for a round. You can tell me all about it over mind numbing alcohol. What do you want? The usual?” 

But Lilac shook her head, already standing up. “If I'm going to burden you with my dreadful love life, then drinks are on me.” And before Sienna could protest, she was off to the bar. 

Ten minutes later, Lilac thanked Reggie for the drinks, left as generous a tip as her salary allowed, and turned back towards her booth. She only made it half a step when she almost collided into a solid, cable sweater clad chest. 

“Oh,” she yelped, ready to apologize. The words were struck dead when her eyes met bright blue ones. She froze, internally hating the fact that someone could paralyze her entirely with just a look. 

“Dr. Allende,” Ethan said with a brief nod. 

“Dr. Ramsey,” she returned. 

The music blared just as loudly as before, bodies moving and dancing all around them, yet all she could hear was the ringing silence between them. Lilac bit her bottom lip anxiously, struggling to find something, anything to say for neither made an effort to move away. 

Ethan was giving her that same indiscernible look from before. It was driving her to the brink of insanity. Just when she thought she could decode what it meant, he opened his mouth, as if to say something. He seemed to think better of it because he shook his head so imperceptibly that she might have missed it. 

“Enjoy your night, Doctor,” he said instead, before continuing his way. 

Lilac blinked, so stunned that she did not even turn to watch him walk away as she always did. 

“Oh my God,” Sienna squealed when Lilac rejoined her. “That was the most sexually-charged interaction I've ever seen in my life.”

“He barely said two words to me.”

“It gave me Pride and Prejudice vibes. That scene where Mr. Darcy visits Elizabeth at Charlotte's house and he doesn't know what to say."

Lilac gave her an unmoved glare that did nothing to quell her friend’s amusement. 

"What have you done to poor Dr. Ramsey?” Sienna cackled with unconstrained glee.  

“Very funny, Sienna.” 

“Okay, okay,” she said, sobering up. “No more Austen references, I promise.” She took the drink Lilac offered. “Is he still stalking your Pictagram?”

“Not sure. I stopped checking,” Lilac lied. The last time she looked for the username "ejramsey" in her notifications was the previous night. 

“Only one way to find out,” Sienna told her, already scrolling through Lilac’s Pictagram feed on her own phone.  It didn't take long for Sienna to freeze, grab Lilac's arm with a sense of urgency, and almost shout, “Lilac, go to your last post right now.”

She did as instructed with some reservation. Her last post had been that very morning, a selfie of her in bed, carefully constructed to appear casual and offhand when the reality was that she took several shots before she settled on one she liked. Lilac had captioned it "good morning" for no particular reason. But then again, was there any real purpose to posting on anything Pictagram? 

 And there, among the comments mostly from people she hadn't seen or spoken to in years was his. 

“He liked it!” Sienna declared, victorious. “And he commented, too.” Her friend said this with a certain finality that suggested the deal was sealed. Lilac and Ethan could practically marry now. 

“Is this what made you almost late to work, Allende?”

She reread his comment, unsure what to make of it. In her mind's eye, she could see the small, carefully guarded smirk that would accompany such a comment in real life. A small indicative that he, regardless of what he might say, had a soft spot for her. 

“Call this wishful thinking but,” Sienna started, “he is totally flirting with you. In his own weird Ethan Ramsey way made even more bizarre by technology. But flirting nonetheless. ” 

Lilac would have immediately disagreed, dismissed the comment, and changed the subject, but her attention was robbed by a post on her Pictagram feed. It was from the man himself, time stamped only a few minutes after hers that morning.

She almost choked on her drink. 

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

Ethan was weak-willed and a tad bit pathetic, he had to finally admit that. Nothing else could explain the uncontrollable grin spreading across his face when his phone pinged with the notification: "Pictagram: dr.allende commented on your post." 

“Unfair,” was all she had commented. 

His grin broadened. God, he knew then why people were so addicted to social media. The thrill of instant gratification he felt then could be sold profitably in doses if it could be bottled.

No, he had reached the ultimate low of weak when he decided he had had enough of being tormented by her posts. He wanted to turn the tables on her and hope he had the same effect on her. The thought that he might have made his stomach swoop. 

He took a swig of his drink. What was wrong with him? 

When Reggie kicked everyone out a few hours later, Ethan retreated to his favorite lounging area in the now deserted beer garden. 

It did not surprise him that she joined him a few minutes later. At her brief hesitation, he nodded, a silent invitation for her to join him. 

“You win,” she said by way of greeting, taking a seat next to him on the sofa. 

Their bodies were so close that her thigh almost skimmed his. As if that wasn’t enough to wreck his sanity, she was looking at him with a glint in her eye that was telling of the effect his picture had on her. 

“What did I win?” he asked, humoring her. In his state of absolute abandon where his defenses had been rendered useless by her mere presence, he could give her anything. 

“You win at Pictagram. I could never top that picture.” There was that look of longing again, unmistakable in the golden lights of the beer garden. 

She was going to be his demise. 

“You’ve already done so,” he said quietly. “Many times.”

Lilac looked up at him, a quirk in her brow. “The green dress?”

There was a moment of silence in which they both remembered that night. 

“Yes, but also the one this morning. It was…” again, he was at a loss for words. “Nice,” he finished flatly. 

He almost laughed at the inadequacy. The picture inspired this male brain to fantasize about waking up next to her, kissing her neck, making his way lower and lower until her body twisted in pleasure against his mouth. Ten years of higher education proved inefficient at the sight of green eyes, full lips, and bed sheets. He was reduced to the simplest of beings. 

“Yours was very... nice too,” she returned, allowing a small pause before the insufficient word. “I miss that sight,” she confessed with no filter. 

An all too familiar tug in his chest. 

“Earlier, at the bar, when we bumped into each other,” she started when he failed to respond. “You wanted to say something.”

It wasn't a question but an observation. 

She knew him so well. Ethan had been arrogant enough to believe he had concealed his intentions so masterfully. Yet, she always saw right through him with the same precision that made her a brilliant doctor. 

“What did you want to say?” she asked in the softest of whispers, eyes locked on his. 

Ethan himself was not sure what he meant to say. He had seen her, suddenly in front of him, and he wanted to desperately say something. Anything. There had been no point. No words would be sufficient aside from the three that tormented him everyday. 

They were fully facing one another now, bodies mere inches apart. Before he realized what he was doing, he raised his hand to brush a strand of hair away from her face. His thumb lingered, stroking a feather light touch on her cheek. 

Her eyes fluttered closed and when she opened them again, they dropped directly to his lips. 

That was all it took for the last bit of his resolve to break. 

“Ethan, I—” 

Fueled by weeks of yearning, Ethan interrupted, filling in the distance between them and pressing his lips to hers. 

The kiss started with a rough force that she matched at once, their pressed bodies swaying Lilac back and almost toppling him on top of her. She didn't seem to mind, too entranced by moving her lips against his, arms clasped securely around his neck. 

Ethan was a fool for ever thinking two months in Brazil would be escape enough when what he wanted the most was right there, on Lilac Allende’s lips. 

“How do you do this to me?” he whispered gruffly against her neck, where his lips had found refuge. 

Lilac’s response was a soft moan. The things he'd do to hear that sound repeatedly, preferably echoing every wall of his apartment. 

Not breaking his lips' ministrations on the ridge of her collarbone, his hands fiddled with the front of her dress. In his eagerness, he struggled with the damned contraption. 

“Need help?” she teased breathlessly. 

Ethan broke apart to give her a wolfish smirk. She was going to pay for that.

Without warning, he moved his hands to her hips and in one swift movement, he flipped her on top of him. Her skirt rode dangerously high as her thighs straddled him. Lilac's little yelp of surprise gave way to another maddening moan when his fingers lazily brushed the inside of her thigh. 

“I can manage, Rookie,” he whispered hotly against her ear. The old nickname had its desired effect for her legs quivered in response. 

His small triumph was short lived, however. Her small revenge was swiveling her hips against his entirely. The pulsing, straining front of his trousers came in full contact with her and Ethan groaned. 

“I'm not a rookie at this,” she whispered defiantly, moving against him again with agonizing steadiness. “Lucky for you, I know what I'm d—” she broke off, biting her lip in a futile effort to repress a small cry. Ethan had lifted his hips off the sofa with ease, suspending her entire weight against him. 

“I know a thing or two as well,” he growled. His fingers moved higher up her thigh. 

“I remember.” 

“Do you remember moaning my name?” 

 His hand roughly moved the lacy fabric of her underwear aside.

“Yes,” she gasped. 

His fingers teased her. 

“Make me scream it,” she begged in a whisper.

Ethan groaned again. 

“Lilac,” he muttered huskily, any other coherent thought interrupted by the way she took his lower lip between her teeth. 

“I want— ” she started, but was far too distracted by his expert fingers. She buried her face against his shoulder, desperate to stifle her moan. 

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice a husky sound deep in his throat. 

Before she could answer, however, Reggie's voice called from inside the bar, “Ten minutes, Ethan.”

Thank God Reggie had not bothered to come outside. Otherwise, Ethan would have spent the next five minutes trying to find a sensible reason why his colleague straddled him shamelessly, his hand lost in the depths of her skirt. 

They looked at each other through hooded eyes, skin flushed bright. 

“Any chance that's enough time for you?” she joked. 

Ethan attempted to shoot her a look dripping of indignation, but the effect was ruined by his own chuckle winning out. “You insult me,” he said dryly. 

Lilac laughed out loud at that. When she sobered up, she regarded him with a very serious expression. Wordlessly, she pressed a tender kiss against his lips. 

“Lilac,” he said softly when they at last broke apart. 

“I know,” she said in a small, defeated voice. With that, she carefully climbed off him.

 She fixed her dress in thoughtful silence. “You know what this means, right?” she asked, a hint of a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “You posted a devastatingly hot picture on Pictagram to bait me. You won't be able to stop now.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Presumptuous of you to assume it was for your benefit.”

“I'm your only follower.”

Ethan rolled his eyes but he smiled regardless. 

“Don't worry. I'll post for you too,” she assured him. “Hope you're ready.”

He laughed despite himself. “Is that a challenge, Dr. Allende?”

Lilac matched his laughter. “Game's afoot, Dr. Ramsey.”

_____________________

AN: THANK YOU for all your wonderful comments on my last one. I appreciate everyone who read, liked, and/or commented! 

Masterlist

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Fiction is the lie through which we tell the truth

Warnings: noncon sex (oral, m&f, intercourse)

This is dark!Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader is a fic writer and her number one fan can’t get enough.

Note: This is probably the most meta shit I’ve written but for all the fic writers out there, this one if for you. Hope y’all get the good d you deserve but until then, here’s this!

Please let me know what you think in a reblog/reply! <3 please and thank you.

You let out a sigh of relief and hit ‘post’. It was almost pathetic but it was the best part of your day, or most days. Having something to share with others was nice. The fact that they enjoyed your work and your boredom-induced work made it worth the frustration. 

It wasn’t real writing. You knew that. Fanfiction was a genre to be laughed at. You didn’t admit it to anyone but there was a sense of pride to go along with the shame. 

That part of you was kept online. The darker parts; the lust, the angst, the fear. It all went hand in hand and no one would guess that the bookshop assistant was stevies-doll. It felt almost scandalous to have a virtual alter ego.

You closed your laptop and checked the time. More than enough to get ready for work. Plain blouse, grey pants, mary jane flats. You were the typical bookish girl with dreams that would never come true. 

The bus was late. Oh well. You’d still be there in time you’d just have to forego your usual espresso. Afternoons were draining and you often needed the boost to keep from nodding off in the last hour. You really weren’t sure why the shop stayed open so late; not many came out after five for books but traffic was relatively steady in the hipster village.

Nina met you with a frown. She preferred you at least ten minutes earlier. Tardiness had seen several other clerks fired and you had been the only to make it more than a year in the shop. Three in fact. This place was like a second home. A garden of ideas to plant the seeds of your mind.

When Nina left, you rearranged the desk. You moved aside her ledger and replaced it with your notebook, two pens to the right of it. In between the chime of the door and the rare customer queries you did most of your writing. When you reached a block you’d read, but today you felt particularly inspired.

The world was saved again. The news reports had shown footage of the daring rescue. As grim as the situation was, you couldn’t help but fantasize. The first avenger with his golden hair and sharp jawline was every woman’s Adonis. At least, you thought he was the very picture of perfection.

It wasn’t obsession. That was your mantra. You often argued with yourself. As much as you thought of the great Steve Rogers, it was only admiration. It wasn’t the possessive infatuation often found on social media. It was a hobby. An escape from the world. 

You bent over the notebook. The shop was empty. The dulcet tones of indie folk floated along the shelves. You set pen to paper and waited for the ring to draw you away from the world behind your eyes. 

You leaned on the counter and scribbled the first line in ink. That was always the hardest part. Then again, the beginning was always more exciting than the end.

‘The day the earth went dark, there was but one beacon left to shine…’

-

It was amusing at first. The thought of another person spending so much time writing about him. That someone would fabricate an entire universe in which he was entirely different. Somewhere out there was a woman who wore the pseudonym ‘stevies-doll’.

Steve knew he should have been perturbed by the fact. The idea of another so consumed by him that they would post almost every other day about him. He couldn’t remember how he stumbled on the small blog. A decent following but nothing close to viral. 

The first story he read was cute. It even made him feel warm. The second was very much the same. He clicked through to another, this one more serious. Grey and daunting. A few more and he stumbled upon one he found most interesting, the letters NSFW emblazoned across the top. He googled the acronym and clicked back to the tab. Excited almost.

When he finished, he was warm in another way. Hot, almost. The things he read, the idea of him doing them, was almost arousing. Of course, he had never done any of it. Had never been more than the perfect gentlemen. Sweet and doting. That was how love should be. But that wasn’t love, no, that story was sex. Pure, unadulterated fucking.

He forced himself away from the computer after that. He needed to sleep. He had intended to browse his email quickly but he often found himself in the oddest rabbit-holes. That was definitely the deepest. He shook his head and chuckled. It was funny.

The next morning he awoke and went about his usual routine. He was out the door by seven. Off to save the world. Or wait around for it to need saving. At Stark Tower, he listened to Tony with his eyes on his phone. It wasn’t anything important. Some recounting about how he had scared Pepper with a nano-spider. 

Steve gave a half-hearted chuckle and Tony went back to his screen. “Tough audience,” He muttered to Bruce who merely shook his head.

Steve leaned against a stool and squinted at his phone. He stared at the google search. Why had he typed it in? Somewhere in the tedium of Tony’s chatter, he had keyed in the name. He hit the first link and his phone loaded slowly. 

His own face stared back at him. The banner was a press photo he had taken over a year ago. His bright eyes were staunch beneath the mask as he stared off into the distance. She had posted again. His thumb hovered over ‘read more’. Did he dare? 

He looked up to make sure he was not being observed. The two scientists were too distracted to care about his online activity. He stood straight and cleared his throat. “I’m gonna hit the gym,” He lied. A grumble from both scientists as they squinted at the floating screens. “Right, have fun.” Steve said dryly as he left them to their work.

He stepped out in the hall and pressed his thumb to the screen. He bent his head over the phone as he walked blindly down the halls. Neither Tony or Bruce noticed through the window that he had gone entirely the wrong way. Steve didn’t either as his eyes flitted over the screen.

‘The day the earth went dark, there was but one beacon left to shine…’

-

You couldn’t believe how much your blog had grown in the last few months. You didn’t know if it betrayed your unexciting life or your one-track mind. Both, maybe. But it made your everyday responsibilities a little less tedious.

And the messages were even better than the hit count. Several had messaged to say they loved your work and went so far as to call you an inspiration. It was flattering but it was easy to remember who you were. No Stephen King or JK Rowling. You wrote silly one shots with limited development. 

Today your inbox had been steady. Every time you found yourself bored at work, you opened the app and you had another message. Most of them short or even just emojis but nice nonetheless. And there was one you were waiting to answer

So long and in depth you had to give it more than just a thanks. You opened it several times and reread it.

‘Your story is really interesting. I think the way your portray Steve is believable. In this type of writing you rarely find anything realistic but your writing feels genuine if not entirely accurate. I would say you capture the essence of Steve perfectly and his actions at least make sense.

I always enjoy your updates and even look forward to them...especially the NSFW ones. ;)’

It was one of the few users who didn't use the anonymous feature and also left a complete comment. It was refreshing and you had come to look forward to their commentary. They went by CapUSA. Another Steve fangirl who was surprisingly inactive outside your blog. Her page was almost a clone of your own. They liked every post, reblogged, and commented. What more could a writer ask for?

Original characters maybe and not just fantasies of someone who’d never know of her existence. You closed your laptop and sighed. It felt like time. You could feel the block at the back of your head. The little thrill you got was wearing off and it felt like a phase better left to fade with your emo days in high school and that month in university when you dyed your hair purple.

You readied for work. Back on days that week. Opening was always easier. It didn’t feel so drawn out. Nina would be in at one and you’d keep her company until four. It meant little time for writing. Maybe that was for the better. You needed to start planning. For the future. For something truly your own. A fantasy so detached from reality that it would make market and maybe even a dime.

That was your dream. You didn’t want to be the listless fangirl forever. Ugh, how you hated to even call yourself a fangirl. No post today, you resigned. Maybe none tomorrow. You’d have to work up the courage to announce your hiatus. Life was calling and for once a sliver of genuine inspiration. 

And the bookstore. It was Shakespeare’s birthday, which conveniently was also his death day. This meant two for one on all of his works. Nina also  hired actors to stand outside the shop and re-enact famous scene from the playwright’s repertoire. They wouldn’t arrive till noon but you had a lot of set-up to do. Enough to keep you from thinking of the disappointed messages that would fill your inbox.

-

Steve scrolled through the pale pink blog for the dozenth time that morning. It had been two weeks since stevies-doll posted. The longest two weeks of his life. He wasn’t sure when it had become a staple in his life. A ritual almost. He’d read her latest fic as he laid down and try to clear his head of blood and grime. Lose himself in the person she dreamed he was. The man he had come to envy. Fictional but all too real in his head.

But there was nothing. At first he re-read and read again. But that grew old. He knew almost every story by heart at this point. He could recite the intro line to most and he fell asleep as his imagination reconstructed the things he had never done. 

Her banner flashed across his sight when he woke, the image of his blue eyes staring beyond him. He’d come to think of her Steve as an altar ego. The beast buried deep inside of him. He was tired of being the nation’s golden child. Their unwavering moral beacon. He wanted to be him and she had helped him figure out who he truly was.

But she was gone. No green dot above her name in the chat window, her last post dated fourteen days ago, her blog like a time capsule. The ice that had preserved him for seventy years. Where was she?

Then a thought struck him. A devious one. He had been on enough missions to know his way around a computer. He considered himself quite savvy after living nearly a decade ahead of his time. It was simple enough. He tracked down many a drug pin this way and they were often concealed behind walls of encryption. He doubted she had more than a store-bought antivirus, if that.

He climbed out of bed and booted his computer. His leg shook impatiently and he tossed his phone just beneath the corner of the monitor. He rubbed his palms together as the home screen loaded and he clicked on the browser.

Her IP was simple enough to find. Right-click, inspect. When he found it, he felt his heart jump. This was a line. A very clear one. If he did this, there was no going back. He let go of the mouse and leaned his chin in his hands. He stared at her page, split by the window of code, and his jaw ticked.

He hit back and went to the messenger. He clicked on her name and his fingertips ran over the space bar. He didn’t know what to say. He’d send her little asks about her fics but he never messaged her directly. Would she respond?

‘Hey,’ He typed slowly, his fingers sped up with each key, ‘I’m a fan of your work. I think it’s excellent. I just wanted to check in and see if you were still writing for this blog.’

He hit enter and waited. He focused on the grey dot beside her name. If she saw this, it likely wouldn’t be until morning. He checked the time and sighed. It was late. He had an early briefing with Tony and he should try to sleep. 

He hovered the cursor over the x but the dot turned green and he paused. The little ‘...’ blipped in the bottom of the chat box and the ding of her reply was music to his ears.

‘Hey, sorry. I know I’ve been quiet lately. I’ve just been so busy with work. I’m a bit behind at the moment. Thank you though for following me. I always enjoy your comments :)’ He read it several times before he could reply. Before he could even think of the words to.

‘It’s okay. We all have responsibilities. Take your time.’ He wanted to tell her to hurry up but who knew? She might be someone important, like a lawyer or teacher. He could wait. As long as there was hope. 

‘Thanks. I appreciate that. Really.’ That response was quicker. Curt, almost.

‘I don’t want to overstep but are you okay?’ His cheeks were hot.

‘Ah, you know, life.’

He scratched his chin as he leaned back in his chair. Slowly he sat forward and typed. It took him three tries to get it right. Concerned but not pushy. ‘Anything you wanna talk about?’ He waited. The three dots appeared then faded. Several times before her answer blipped up.

‘I don’t wanna trouble you but I appreciate you asking. Nothing I won’t get over.’

‘Ok, no problem. Just know that if you need it, I could listen. It’s could to talk about stress.’ He laughed at himself. He should take his own advice. He had a horrible habit of letting things pile up until he burst at the seams.

‘Thanks again. I’ll ttyl. I gotta get some sleep. Have a good one.’

‘You, too,’ He replied a bit too quickly. ‘Talk to you then.’

-

You were ready to post again. It had been almost a month since your last fic and you had been reluctant to return. You couldn’t help checking in daily to see your notifications and scroll mindlessly through your own content. And your offline writing had come to a halt. You were stuck and you didn’t know how else to cope but fall back on what you knew.

Your new friend had helped too. CapUSA had quickly become a stalwart of your blog. She, or he, you still weren’t sure, spoke to you almost everyday. They encouraged you to try one more fic as you mulled over a certain prompt. Why not? It would be like a writing exercise. Maybe it would help you with your original writing. Take some of the pressure off.

And you didn’t just talk about writing. You talked about the bookstore and Nina’s incessant complaints. You talked about the stresses of your lives. Friends, or lack thereof. Cap seemed a popular person and recounted stories of the latest drama. A close knit group of friends who acted more like adversaries. It was amusing and made your forget that your life was rather empty.

You hit post and smiled. That familiar rush rolled over you and you snapped closed your laptop. You were already dressed and ready for work. You crammed in the quick editing session before the bus was due and now you’d have to run for it.

Back on afternoons. It was rainy and you were soaked by the time you got to the shop. The weather always helped traffic and you ducked behind the counter where Nina was tending to the line with Cara, a new addition. The curly-haired blonde reminded you of old Hollywood. Her high cheekbones and rose lips rivaled Monroe’s.

“Do you want me to start early?” You asked as you tucked your bag under the counter between them.

“You better. I’m gone in ten and Cara’s only on til three.” Nina muttered. “We got a new shipment. Boxes are at the end of the aisles. We’ve not had a chance to touch ‘em.”

“Okay, I’ll get right on it,” You pin your name tag on and stepped back around the counter. She was in one of her moods and all the better that you avoid her until she left. You went to the end of the history aisle and opened the box against the wall.

‘You working?’ The vibration drew your attention from re-arranging the non-fiction section. The message floated in a bubble on your lock screen. You smiled. This faceless stranger felt like more. Of course, virtual friendships were often fleeting.

You glanced down the aisle, both Nina and Cara were squinting at the computer as a customer waited patiently for them to figure out their conundrum. You swiped away the lock and typed swiftly with your phone hidden behind your leg. 

‘Closing. Here all night.’

‘Oh :( you got company at least?’

‘For a couple more hours. But no shortage of work. :/’

‘Damn. Should I leave you alone?’

‘Up to you. My responses might be sporadic. Boss isn’t very pleasant today.’

‘Cool. I just read your new fic.’ 

‘Yeah? Sorry I haven’t checked my notifications just yet.’

‘No problem. I left a comment is all.’

‘What are you up to?’

‘Taking a break from driving. I should actually get back to it. It’s a long trip.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘To see a friend.’

‘Ah, ok. Well, drive safe.’

‘I will ;) See ya later.’

‘ttyl :)’

-

‘Nina’s Nook’. Steve read the crooked moniker several times over. He couldn’t believe he was actually there. That she was inside. He made good time on the road. An eight hour trip in six. Of course, he hadn’t exactly abided the speed limit. His impatience had turned to recklessness. So unlike him.

The sky was dim. The summer nights came later and later. She’d be done in an hour. The streets were dying down and the door hadn’t chimed in almost as long. He felt nervous all of a sudden. He tried to shrug of his anxiety and took a breath. 

She wouldn’t know it was him. Well, she might recognize him but she wouldn’t know he was CapUSA. He couldn’t wait to see her reaction. Steve Rogers in her bookshop. In this town. It would be a story she would recount for the rest of her life. An encounter she would never forget. 

Oh, he’d make sure she remembered it.

He crossed the street. A single car passed as he stepped up on the curb. It was much quieter than New York. No honking, no shouts, no hissing sewers. He liked it. It was quaint. He stood before the door and peeked through the glass. There was no one behind the desk. But the sign read open and the lights shone in welcome.

He pushed down the handle and slowly opened the door. The bell announced his entrance and a small voice called from the corner of the shop. “One moment, please.” He heard the shuffle of books and light footsteps. She emerged from the far shelves and his lips parted at the sight of her.

He had seen her before. Her few photos on Facebook and Instagram. He had found those shortly after he ferreted out her IP. He couldn’t see much but her privacy settings allowed him a glimpse into her real life. Her smile was nicer than in her pictures. 

“Sorry, I was--” She stopped short as she saw him. She blinked. He closed his mouth as hers fell open. Her voice was higher when she spoke next. “I was just sorting some stuff out. I--How can I help you?”

“Um, a friend recommended a book to me and I was passing by, I thought maybe by chance… you might have it.” He kept his voice even. The same one he used for his press conferences.

“Do you have a title?” She asked. He could see her fingers tremble. The guilt as her eyes rounded. She was thinking of all the things she had wrote about him. He was thinking of those too.

“Jeez, you know, I’ve totally forgotten but the author was, uh…” He pretended to think and his eyes drifted down her body. Her flowered blouse was boxy but her pants hugged the curves of her hips and legs. She clasped her hands together and the gesture pushed her chest together between her arms. “Margaret Archer--er, Atwood.”

“Hmm, she’s done a lot. Do you know what it’s about?” She pulled her hands apart and wiped her palms on her dark pants. His eyes followed the movement. He wanted his hands there. Wanted to feel her thighs against him.

“Something about an apocalypse...um, a character named...Snow--Snow something.” He acted like he coudn’t remember. Couldn’t recall that it was stevies-doll who had recommended the very book. 

“Oh, Oryx and Crake, I think it is. It’s an interesting one.” She smiled, proud to have figured out the riddle. “If you will, it should be with our most popular books.”

She hesitated as she passed him. He followed her as she went to the shelf just beside the counter. She hovered her finger before the titles as she read them. She bent as she got lower. He admired her ass as she did. He tucked his hands in his pocket before he could reach out.

“Yeah, I think it’s in sci-fi.” She stood and peeked over her shoulder. “It’s just over here.” She led him down the narrow aisle to the end. “Starts just here so Atwood…” She scanned the shelf, “Here.” She pulled out the book and held it out to him. “We have it in hardcover too.”

He took it and felt the raised letters on the cover. “Thanks.” He didn’t even acknowledge the book in his hand. The aisle was so tight she was trapped between him and the wall. She gave a sheepish smile and he turned to press his back to the shelf. “Sorry. Go ahead.”

She nodded and squeezed past him. Her chest brushed against his torso and she pretended not to notice. Once past him, she cleared her throat. “If you need any help, I’ll be up front.” She turned before he could respond and her watched her go. He never would’ve guessed the mousy shop assistant would have such a lurid imagination.

-

You were in disbelief. It couldn’t be. Steve Rogers in your book shop? No, you were dreaming. Or was it a nightmare? Oh god, why had you written all that stuff? You needed to delete. Now. You could hear him. The floor creaked as he moved slowly down the aisle. You hoped he would’ve taken the book and gone. The longer he stayed, the worse you felt. Your cheeks were on fire.

Your phone vibrated. You swiped the screen and found a new message from CapUSA. You sighed and rubbed your eyes. You should just pretend you didn’t see it. You unlocked the phone and read the message.

‘Hey, how’s work?’

‘It’s fine.’ You answered. What could you say? Who would believe that Steve Rogers had walked in your door?

‘I just was thinking about your last fic.’

‘Oh yeah?’ You peeked over at the far aisle. The floor no longer whined with his weight.

‘Yeah, I’d love to re-enact the last scene.’

‘Sorry?’ You sent the message and it went unanswered. ‘I don’t get it. What do you mean?’

‘The one with the girl on her knees. Begging to be fucked.’

‘Okay? I still don’t understand.’ Your heart jumped. This was really weird.

‘Or maybe and I could fuck you on that counter you’re standing behind.’

You hit close and locked the phone. You dropped it and looked around the shop. You rushed out from behind the counter and glanced out the window. You turned the latch and the floorboards groaned. You turned and pressed yourself to the door. You forgot he was there. 

How could you forget something like that?

“Sorry, uh, we’re closing up,” You felt around for the lock, “I was just--”

“That’s okay. I think I’m just about done.” He slapped the book against his palm and placed it on the corner of the counter. He set his phone on top of it with a flourish. “Why don’t you flip the sign and we can get started.”

“What are you--”

“Do you prefer I call you by your real name or stevies-doll?” He leaned against the counter and smirked. “Or I can just call you doll. I know you like that.”

“No,” You exhaled shakily, “Y-you can’t be…”

“You’re not happy to see me?” He asked. He didn’t sound like the hero you saw on the news. Barely looked like him now. His pupils dilated to darken his blue eyes and the shadows of the shop cast his face in sinister tones. “You can call me Stevie if you like.”

“I...What I wrote, it was just...” You spluttered. “I’m s-sorry.”

“You don’t have to be.” He pushed himself away from the counter. “I’m not mad. Intrigued really.”

He stepped closer and your ears pounded as the adrenaline coursed through your veins. You turned and fumbled with the lock. The door opened an inch before his hand slammed it shut again. He easily flipped the lock back into place and spun the sign with a flick of his thumb. 

“You can close early and we can have some fun...maybe inspire a new fic.” His arm was around your waist and you grabbed onto his thick wrist.

“They’re just stories.” You kicked as he pulled you away from the door. He tugged the blind down over the window. “Stupid fantasies.”

“Well, consider this a dream come true, doll,” He spun and let you go. You collided with the desk and gasped as the air was knocked from your lungs. “I think you remember this scene.”

“What do you want?” You clung to the desk as you turned to him. 

“You know, I’m everything people think I am. Straight-laced, valiant, boring.” He planted his feet and stared you down. “Or was...until I found your blog.” His tongue ran across his bottom lip. “It gets lonely on the road. At first, your blog was like a secret companion. It gave me something to look forward to but then it made me think. So many things I never even knew I was missing out on.”

“Please, I don’t know what you want from me,” Your voice cracked. Your fear surged and left you shaking against the counter.

“I want…” He tilted his head and his eyes flashed, “You.” He paused and pushed his shoulders back. “On your knees.” Your eyes rounded, “Oh yes,” He raised a finger, “Naked.”

You stared at him. You were frozen in place. The counter your only support from melting into a puddle. His nostrils flared as he exhaled; long and drawn out. 

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” He snarled and his hand balled into a fist.

You gulped and held yourself with one hand against the counter as you bent to unlace your oxfords. You kicked them off with your socks and mustered your strength. You stood on your own and unbuttoned your shirt. You kept your eyes on the aged carpet stretched across the hardwood.

You dropped the blouse onto your shoes and unzipped your fly. The wool trousers slid halfway down without help and you untangled your legs from them. You added them to the heap and stood straight.

“Look at me,” Steve ordered. Your eyes snapped over to him. “Good.” You reached back and he raised a hand. “Stop...I wanna do it.”

He waved you forward and slowly you stepped away from the counter. He bared his palm in a gesture for you to halt and you hung your head. “Eyes up.” He corrected as he came closer. He walked around you and stopped just behind you.

His thick fingers touched the band of your bra and ran along it until they met at the hooks. He carefully unclasped it and the cups fell loose. He tickled your arms as he pushed the straps down them. He took it and flung it away from him. His hands came up to cup your tits and he pushed himself flush to your back.

“You always wrote so vividly of me but...I never knew how beautiful you truly were...how good you feel.” He squeezed and slowly lowered his hands. He dragged them to the side of your panties and slipped his fingers beneath the elastic. He bent as he guided the panties down your legs. “God, that ass.”

You shivered and his hands cradled your ass. He ran his rough palms along your cheeks and up your back. They settled on your shoulders and he pushed down firmly. “On your knees.”

He stepped back and you unsteadily got to your knees. He walked another circle around you. You could hear his dusky breaths. Glimpsed how his hand ran over the front of his jeans. 

“Now ask, like a good girl,” He stopped before you and stared down with a smirk. “Go on, doll, I know you want it.”

You closed your eyes and swallowed. You grit your teeth and gather what was left of your wits. A story. That’s all this was. The letters could be backspaced and no one would know better of it. 

“Please,” You recalled the last scene you had posted. The tingle which had flowed through you as you hit the button. What had she said? You opened your eyes. “Please, I want to...I want to make you happy.” You shuddered as the words whisked from you. “Can I?”

“Can you...what?” He taunted.

“Can I suck your dick?” It was barely a whisper. 

“Oh, well, since you asked so nicely,” His hands were on his belt as he spoke. “But I have a different scene in mind for tonight. A new one.” He unbuckled his belt and cracked his neck. “I want you on the counter. On your back.”

You made to stand and his hand went to your head. He held you down. 

“Crawl.”

You weakly dropped forward and turned. You crawled on hands and knees as he followed, stopping just in front of the desk as you followed his pointed finger to the other side. You stood and lifted yourself onto the counter and laid on your back. He guided your head over the side as he pulled you close and his hands found your tits again. He tweaked your hard nipples and you bit your lip.

He rescinded his hands and finished unzipping his pants. You tried not to watch as he pushed his pants down, his briefs too. The blur focused and you gaped at the size of him. He gripped himself and you snapped your mouth shut. He grabbed your chin and squeezed.

“Now, now, don’t act like this isn’t what you wanted,” He pressed his cock to your mouth and you were forced to open as his fingers threatened to crush your jaw.

He slid inside and your gasp was stifled as he met the back of your throat. He forced himself further and you threw your arms out. A clatter of books and papers as you swept them off the counter. He lingered at his limit and wiggled his hips. You arched your back as you choked and he grabbed your tit, kneading it as he slowly pulled out.

He pushed back in just as you gulped down air and you writhed atop the desk. He thrust in and out of your mouth. You gagged and groaned. The noises only fueled his fervour and he sunk in over and over until your head pulsed. The spit smeared around your lips and his balls.

He pulled back and slammed back in suddenly. His motion slowed as he came. He grunted, his breaths stuttered by the staggered rock of his pelvis. You clawed at the counter top and kicked until you could breathe again.

He slipped his cock from between your lips and his cum leaked from your mouth. You sat up and coughed. His hands were on your shoulders again. His fingers danced along your throat as if to ease your struggles.

“Come on, that’s just the first act,” He drew away and you glanced over your shoulder. “Turn around.” 

You turned on the desk and he pulled your legs over the edge. He pushed your knees apart and stepped back to admire the view. You dug your nails into the lip of the counter to keep yourself from closing your legs.

“I know you’ve been dying to see this,” He grinned and pulled his shirt over his head. 

His cock hung out of his pants. It twitched as he tossed his shirt at you. You caught it. It smelled like him. He shoved his pants down without pause and he hardened again. You dropped his shirt and looked away guiltily. 

Had you not written this scene a dozen times over?

He was completely naked when you looked again. He came close, his hands on your knees as he knelt before you. You tried to pull your legs together but he held them apart. He shook his head and tutted. 

“Just sit back and enjoy,” He licked his lips. “Trust me, it’s better than you could ever imagine.”

Your shock took over completely. You watched as he bowed his head and you felt his hot breath on your thighs. When his tongue met your pussy you gasped. He delved between your folds and swirled around your clit. Your nails went deeper into the wood and your thighs shook. It felt good. It shouldn’t, though.

He buried his face deeper and you watched his golden locks from above. He reached over blindly, his large hand found yours, and he guided it to the back of his head. He held it there a moment before letting go. You clung to him as he hands glided up your thighs and he framed your vee with thumb and index.

You arched your back and moaned. It was your declaration of surrender. You couldn’t resist it any longer. The heat stirred inside of you, the flames licking at your thighs and back. You urged Steve closer though he couldn’t possibly go any deeper. 

His hands slipped down to the outside of your thighs. Your legs closed around his head and held him there. He tipped you slightly and you curled around him as he continued to lap. Your breaths mixed with throaty hums and you fell back. 

You had one hand still on his head and the other in your hair as you cried out in a mighty climax. He didn’t stop until you were shaking across the counter. When at last his mouth left you, you shivered. A sudden coolness washed over your body. He stood and you looked at him through the haze.

He grabbed your waist and pulled you to your feet. You wavered and he spun you quickly. You caught yourself on the desk and he slapped your ass. “That’s it,” He purred. “You’re getting it now.”

He nudged your shoulder until you were bent entirely over the counter, your toes barely met the floor. He rubbed your ass and pulled your cheeks apart. His cock poked you as his hand slipped lower and he tickled just below your ass. You squirmed and he chuckled.

He felt around and his cock slipped lower as he bent his knees. He dragged his tip along your folds before prodding at your entrance. He shoved his hand between your legs and forced them apart. 

He pushed inside and slowly stretched you around him. Your head shot up at the strain. A mix of pain and pleasure as he got deeper and deeper.

You whined as he bottomed out and his hips bucked almost instinctively. He hit your cervix and you cried out. He eased out and pushed back in. He repeated this again and again, his motion careful. Deliberate. He brought his pelvis flush to your ass and groaned.

“Fuck,” He slapped your ass again. 

He drew back and slammed into you all at once. All restraint was lost and he thrust mercilessly. His pace was wild. You reached out to grab at the edge of the counter, your hips hitting the other painfully. The spark had caught and you felt the flame about to burst. 

Your orgasm was surprising. More agony than pleasure. You whimpered and pushed your head into the counter as you heaved. You could barely breath as Steve never wavered. He fucked until you until your walls ached. Until they turned numb and you were nothing but a mewling fool before him.

He bent over your, his muscled torso against your sweaty back. He rutted atop you frantically. His hips jerked as his grunts deepened. His breath caught and he swore. He lifted himself off you and you felt the warmth spill down your ass and thigh. 

You laid breathless as he panted behind you. He rubbed his cum into your skin with two fingers and you shook. You tried to push yourself up from the desk. He caught your hip and shoved you back down.

“Oh, we’re not even close to the finale,” He pinched your ass and you squeaked. “Not to mention the epilogue.”

-

tags to be added in reblog

[thoughtsofanexcitedspacechild]

25 more things I learned during a global pandemic from your Local Teenage Train wreck :) (Pt. 2)

1. Gaining weight is okay. Losing weight is okay. Bodies fluctuate and are inconsistent. Just make sure that you’re trying your best to be healthy, whatever that means for you. 

2. School is hard, especially during a global. freaking. pandemic. Don’t beat yourself up if it’s harder to get up in the morning or your grades aren’t as high as they usually are. It’s hard right now. 

3. You’re mental health comes above all. School, responsibilities, and personal projects are not worth your time if it’s affecting your mental health. If your gut is telling you to take a break, take a break!

4. If you feel lonely, get a plant to keep in your room. Do some research as to that plants do best with the type of lighting in your room, and figure out some basic care instructions. Have someone to take care of besides yourself. Name your plants, and take care of them. 

5. Even if you’re not good at writing, I suggest you keep a journal during this time. It kept me sane over the summer, and even though I eventually stopped because of limited time with school starting back up, it helped to keep me sane in the worst of the pandemic. 

6. If you’re spiritual (or even if you’re not) learn how to do shadow work. This isn’t anything that has to be spiritual or done in just one religion. It’s basically giving yourself a chance and a space to be open and honest with yourself and to learn what you might need to work on through writing. If you google it, you can find a more in depth explanation, and prompts to start doing it. You basically give yourself a prompt. They can be questions like “What’s the biggest lie you’ve told someone else or yourself?” or they can be a little less heavy like “What are five non physical things that you genuinely like about yourself?”. This can be pretty heavy, and can dig up some unwanted emotions, but that’s the whole point; to deal with the emotions you may have been repressing and letting fester inside of you. 

7. On days when you’re not feeling well mentally, take a break. It’s okay to drop everything and get an extra hour of sleep, read, or do something else to make yourself feel better.

8. After hard days, I know the last thing you want to do is get up and continue on, but here are some ways to do it:

- lay out an outfit that’s put together, but not as over the top. No sweat pants or crappy clothes, but it doesn’t have to be your usual put together outfits with a full face of makeup. A nice crewneck and a nice pair of black athletic leggings can go a long way. 

-wear your comfort jewelry. I wear my beaded necklace that I bought for myself,  the silver ring my grandma gave me and the gold cross ring that my mom gave to me when I got confirmed. 

-eat breakfast. A handful of cereal will do. Anything. But eat something. I like to make oatmeal. It sounds boring but if you make it right, it tastes just perfect for mornings when you don’t feel hungry but know inside that you are. Recipe is next on the list :)

-go to school. I know you want to lay in bed. I know the last place you want to be is a crowded building full of pubescent teens that aren’t nice, but go. Go to learn. Go to absorb knowledge like a sponge, and don’t worry if you fail and lose some of the water, because you can always soak it up later. 

-if you have practice, rehearsal, a game, whatever, be gentle on yourself. Today might not be your best day physically, because the brain controls everything. Forgive yourself if you can’t land that double pirouette, get to the high note, or make that assist. You’re abilities are stagnant, and they’re going to change depending on how you feel

-When you get home, turn off your phone. Friends, social media, etc. can wait. Set a timer for one hour. Do work for just that hour. When the timer rings, finish what you were doing and then stop. Now have a 20 minute break and do something that’s not screen related. Read a book, draw something; heck, stare at the wall for 20 minutes and space out. When the timer rings, do another hour and repeat the same process until it’s all done. 

-have a playlist you listen to to heal you. Sad boi hours are ok, just make sure to have a playlist of songs that get you moving again. 

-Sleep. Even if that means putting off work for tomorrow. It’s ok. You really need it. 

9. Oatmeal seems gross until you know how to prepare it. When you do, it’s revolutionary. It’s a high volume, low calorie food, so you’ll stay full for a while without overeating, all while consuming less calories than you would with a traditional breakfast cereal. 

The right way to make it: 

-measure out half a cup of old fashioned oats. Not steel cut. Those aren’t as good. 

-MOST IMPORTANT STEP: add half a cup of water and half a cup of milk of your choice. I personally like almond milk because it’s kind of sweet already even when it’s unsweetened. 

-SECOND MOST IMPORTANT STEP: add a pinch of salt, a sprinkle of cinnamon, and allspice, and a teaspoon or two of maple syrup. This is what makes it taste palatable. It’s less sugar than store-bought, and tastes amazing. 

-Microwave that shit for one minute and stir. It should look kind of lumpy, but not a ton. Then, put another minute on. Stir at every half increment. (After 30 seconds, every 15 seconds, and then every 7) This is so it doesn’t boil over. Then, take it out, stir it one last time, and let it sit for a second. 

-Wash up some berries to put in it. I love blueberries and or blackberries. 

perfect oatmeal every. single. time. Feel free to add more toppings like nuts or if you wanna treat yourself chocolate or substitute the spices, but this is honestly one of my favorite breakfasts that keeps me full throughout the day. 

10. Learn a new language. Yes, Duolingo is annoying, but do it. Find one that you’ll like to learn and that’s easy for you. Try them on like old clothes and find one that fits just right. For me, it’s French. Expose yourself to that language. Listen to music, read books (or try to) and watch movies with subtitles. Soon enough, you’ll be eager to learn more. 

11. Learn how to use notion.com. It’s super amazing. You can literally keep track of your entire life there. It’s pretty fun to use as well. I made schedules for each day after school, a reading log, a want to read list, a personal habit tracker, etc, and they’re all extremely helpful. 

12. Make a list of things you weren’t allowed to do as a kid and do one every day. Heal your inner child by finally itching the spot that may not have been scratched for years. 

13. Learn how to make origami stars. They’re really easy, and I can’t recommend Maqaroon’s (Joanna’s) video on how to make them enough. Once you’ve got it down, get yourself a nice big jar and write down things you’re grateful for on the slips of paper you’re going to fold. Fill up your gratitude jar and make a wish once it’s full. It will come true. 

14. Have 30 minutes a day to put your phone down and read. Yes. You will have to sacrifice something to do this, but it’s so important and good for not only information retention and learning, but for mental health as well. Even if you have to get up half an hour earlier to do it, it’s worth it. 

15. It’s okay to be alone, but learn to recognize the difference between alone and lonely. If you’re lonely, here are some things to do:

-write a letter to a friend. It’s something nice you can do for yourself and others, and it’s not feeding into the toxic instant reply culture that we live in

-read a book or watch a show that gets you to connect with the characters, even if that means (I've said it before and I’ll say it again) rereading a favorite ya series or binging atla for the fiftieth time. It’s good for the soul.

-take a walk and smile at the people you see coming past. Again, it’s good for the soul. 

-go to the coffee shop and ask the barista to make you a drink that tastes like “_____” (insert whatever you want there. It could be a color, song, feeling, etc.) It’s weird and uncomfortable, but it gives you a conversation starter and 9.9 times out of 10 a really good drink. (Also helpful for when you think the barrista’s cute)

-Reading in general. It opens up so many new worlds with the turn of a page. 

16. Monitor your food intake. No, don’t restrict your food intake, monitor it. This means first seeing exactly what your putting in your body and altering it to gradually improve to a clean diet. Humans weren’t built to process all the preservatives, additives and sugars found in most processed food (cereals, chips, anything in a foil bag that’s either really sweet or really salty) and it’s important to cut down and if possible eliminate as much as you can of it out of your diet. Food is fuel, and you truly are what you eat. You’ll notice that by increasing your vegetable intake, reducing white processed sugars and carbs*, and cutting out sodas/extra sugars, that you’ll feel better. This isn’t a weight loss thing, but you may start to trim down a little bit once you go more intense with it. You don’t have to eliminate anything fully, and please enjoy your favorite “bad” foods! Everything in moderation is perfect! Just make sure that you’re getting the good stuff in there too! *Side note, do NOT cut out carbs! See my post on how I’m losing weight to get more into depth on this. 

17. Buy fresh flowers for yourself. Who says that you have to wait for someone else? That’s completely false, and you should totally treat yourself to a nice bouquet on occasion, especially in the dead of winter. 

18. The whole idea of self love is flawed. Loving yourself has nothing to do with the way you look. Loving yourself comes with genuinely loving your life. If you don't love the way you’re living, change it. Make and set goals. Fail at achieving those goals. Get back up and try again until you finally get it, but make sure that whatever you’re doing, you’re doing to love the life you live. Life doesn’t live you. You live life.

19. Have candles and incense. (Or a diffuser if you’re not allowed to burn stuff) Making your environment smell good makes a huge difference

20. Once you turn 18, get a tattoo. It doesn’t have to mean anything. Pick something small and get it behind your ear, on your ankle, wrist, fingers, whatever. You’ll love having the memory when your old. 

21. Realize your worth. We often put ourselves down because we think that valuing ourselves is equivalent to selfishness. It’s not. At all. You are just as important as everyone else. Your voice matters too. 

22. Go to art museums

23. Go to free concerts in the park

24. Expose yourself to new art, ideas, and literature

25. Life is gonna suck sometimes. It’s just how it is. That doesn’t mean a bad day’s gonna last forever. As cheesy as it is, keep your head up :)

[andinewton]

Three Times There Was Mistletoe... Gavin/MC MLQC

Fandom: MLQC

Pairing:  Gavin/MC

Genre: Absolutely fluffy

Summary: Gavin is starring on a live show on Christmas Eve, but mistletoe keeps mysteriously appearing on set.

Authors Note:  I am soooo sorry it took me so long to reread this and post, it has honestly been a shitshow of a week (more but who’s counting?)  Anyway, I hope it was worth the wait!

Over the last two months you had been compiling pieces on staying safe over the festive season, from not leaving gifts on display in your home and vehicle, to maintaining control of your senses during the many seasonal parties that seemed to invade everyone’s life for one month of the year.  Gavin had been a hit, as always, and all that remained this Christmas Eve was to film the live closing segment with the host.  The final show would end with the set looking like a cosy living room, the lighting warm and inviting, the tree sparkling enough to brighten the lowest of moods.  Both Gavin and the host were wearing suits, adding to the festive atmosphere, and more than one of the staff had mentioned they would gladly find Loveland’s finest officer wearing nothing but a gift bow under their tree the next morning.  And you were no exception.

You and Gavin were close friends, but that was all it was, much to your disappointment.  You knew that you would rather have this than nothing with him, but how much you liked him was really becoming a bit of a hindrance.  You sighed as they carried out a lighting check on Gavin and the host, standing side by side, having already checked it while sitting in the overstuffed chairs either side of the tree, when an elbow landed on your shoulder so suddenly it was enough to make you jump.

‘Doesn’t he look handsome, boss?’  Minor asked, tilting his head to one side as he regarded Gavin.

‘He always looks handsome.’  You replied automatically, before straightening yourself and clearing your throat.  ‘But he hates dressing up.  I hope he relaxes somewhat before go time.’

‘He’ll be fine.’  Minor waved his hand dismissively.  ‘But it looks like they need you.’  He indicated to where Kiki was waving at you from beside Gavin while holding his cuff.

‘No rest and all that.’  You smiled at Minor before stepping onto the set.  ‘What’s up, Kiki?’

‘Does this cuff look marked to you?’  She asked, pulling Gavin’s arm towards your face.

‘I can’t see anything.’  You replied.  ‘Are you sure?’

‘Maybe take a closer look, with more direct light.  When he moves a certain way it’s like there’s a stain.’

‘Okay, let me see.  Do you mind, Gavin?’

He cleared his throat as you rested the side of his hand in your palm and moved your face closer.  ‘Not at all.’

‘I think it might be part of the material.’  You murmured thoughtfully.  ‘Let’s go take a closer look.’  A nearby table held a small spotlight and you directed it downwards to help you look.  ‘It seems okay, must just be a trick of the light.’

‘Hey, boss?’  You looked up at the sound of Minor’s voice questioningly, finding him pointing upwards.  You frowned and looked up, finding a sprig of mistletoe hung from one of the rigs.

‘Oh!’  You exclaimed, eyes going wide as your cheeks flushed pink.

‘What is…oh.’  Gavin echoed your sentiment as he followed your gaze.

‘It’s just a bit of traditional fun.’  Anna remarked as she passed you.

‘We don’t have time for traditional fun.’  You called after her.  ‘We’re live on air in three hours!’

‘Can you rain-check mistletoe?’  Kiki asked Minor loud enough for everyone to hear.

‘No time!’  You yelled, releasing Gavin’s hand and hoping he couldn’t see how red your face was.  ‘The sleeve is fine!  Places everyone, let’s run it one more time!’

The cast and crew had one last break before air time and you took advantage by finding a quiet corner to sit in.  It had been full on all month and you were looking forward to a few days break, but the day wasn’t over yet.  After filming was finished and everything closed down the whole crew were going out for drinks, as you would be finished earlier than a normal work day.  It was the final thing you had to do before you could go home and climb into your pyjamas.

‘Are you hiding?’

You glanced up to see Gavin offering you a cup of coffee, which you took with a grateful smile.  ‘Not hiding, more stealing a few minutes to mentally regroup.’

‘May I?’  He pointed beside you and you budged a little to allow him space on top of the equipment box.  ‘I wanted to thank you.’

‘Thank me?’  You frowned.  ‘For what?’

‘For convincing me to do this.’  He waved his hand at the studio in general.  ‘It’s been more rewarding than I thought it would.’

‘Not all TV people are shallow and vapid.’  You smiled and his eyebrows quickly knitted together.

‘I didn’t think that about you for a second.’

‘No, but as a group it’s easy to see why it would seem that way.’  You blew across the top of your coffee.  ‘And if we’re in a thankful place, then I want to give them to you.  You’ve really helped us, and me, out and I’m so grateful.’

‘Call it even?’  He smiled slightly.

‘Deal.’  You nodded.

‘Hey, Gavin!’  You both turned to see Minor eating a sandwich some distance away.  ‘I’m starting to think you’re doing that on purpose.’  He looked up above you which drew both of your eyes, yet again, to a sprig of mistletoe.

‘Get out of here!’  Gavin yelled at him, and he left, laughing to himself as the tips of Gavin’s ears turned bright red.  ‘He can be so annoying.’  He muttered apologetically.

‘He knows his stuff though.’  You shrugged, casting a glance at your watch.  ‘I have to get back to it, but thanks for the coffee.’

‘No problem.’  He replied, sighing as he watched you walked away.

‘And we’re out!  That’s a wrap!’

Cheers went up as the director confirmed you were off air and a weight seemed to lift from your shoulders.  Once everything was finished here you were officially done!  You joined everyone in the self-congratulations and began overseeing the packing up.

Gavin quickly removed his tie and stuffed it in his pocket, undoing the top two buttons of his shirt with relief.  He hated how restrictive they were.  His eyes automatically sought you out, finding you helping the assistant director, and knew you would be busy for a while yet.  Should he say goodbye?  Wait until you were finished?  He decided to wait.  It was fairly dark already and he wanted to be sure you had a safe way home.

‘Good work out there, Gavin.’  Minor remarked as he approached him.

‘Thanks.’  He replied, finally tearing his eyes from you.

‘Do you have plans after this?’

Gavin narrowed his eyes.  ‘Why?  What did you have in mind?’

‘Not much.’  Minor shrugged.  ‘We’re all going out for holiday drinks, celebrating the end of work.  You should come.’

‘I don’t know.’  Gavin shifted his feet.  ‘I’ll have to see.’

‘She’s gonna be there.’  Minor nodded towards you, just marginally, but Gavin knew who he meant.  ‘You should escort her.’

‘Me?  I mean, I can go with you, but I don’t think she needs an escort.’

‘It’s not if she needs one, but that she might want one.’  Minor leant in conspiratorially.  ‘Up to you, though.’  He shrugged again and walked away, pretty sure he had Gavin convinced.

Gavin stood and thought for a moment, watching you laugh at something the assistant director said.  No.  He would go along, even if it was just to keep an eye on you.

Finally!  You thought as you looked at the now empty space.  It hadn’t taken too long and now you just had to dismiss the crew.

‘That’s it, everyone!  Meet at the bar, first round is on me!’  Another cheer went up and everyone began filing out as you flicked off the lights, which was when you realised Gavin was standing on his own to one side, leaning on the wall with his arms folded.  ‘Hey, I didn’t realise you were still here.’  You smiled as you headed over to him, around the chattering crowd as they left.

‘I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.’  He straightened his stance and unfolded his arms, wanting to be more approachable, not that that had ever stopped you before.

‘I’m glad.’  You smiled up at him.  ‘Do you want to come with us?’  You asked hesitantly.

‘I’d like that.  If I’m not intruding.’

‘You’re more than welcome.’  You held your hands behind your back for the sake of something to do with them.  ‘Everyone deserves tonight though, they’ve worked so hard, and that includes you.  This show wouldn’t be the success it has been without Officer Gavin.’

Gavin’s cheeks heated up at your praise but he cleared his throat and tried to shake it off.  ‘Are you really buying everyone a drink?  Because there’s a lot of people.’

‘They’re worth it.  I want them to know how grateful I am to have them on board.’

‘They’re grateful to you too.’  He replied as you edged forward behind everyone else.

‘Hey, Gavin!’  Minor yelled from near the door, and you both looked over.  ‘Don’t forget, as you leave!’  Minor tapped a sprig of mistletoe now hanging over the doorway that hadn’t been there before.

Your eyes went wide as you looked down and tried to hide your embarrassment, Gavin rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he found the wall very interesting all of a sudden.

‘He’s doing this on purpose.’  Gavin muttered to himself, vowing to take down the mistletoe just as soon as he reached it.  He and Minor would be having words later, that was for sure.  He looked around to explain, but you were no longer there, having disappeared into the darkness while he wasn’t looking.

You got to the bar a little after everyone else, having busied yourself with absolutely nothing, but needing a little space and time to calm your heavily beating heart and your confused head.  You and Gavin had been dancing around one another’s feelings for some time and he showed no sign of making a move.  Maybe it was all in your imagination, you thought there was something more between you other than attending the same school and running into danger, but now you were uncertain.  Sure, Minor, and half of your staff, had made it clear that they thought all you both needed was a little push, but these mistletoe incidents might have been more of a shove.  You would rather have Gavin as a friend than nothing at all and, at this rate, they would alienate him from you entirely.  You straightened your hair, hoping it looked alright, before opening the door, a wall of sound and light hitting you hard as you plastered a smile on your face.

‘We thought you got lost.’  Anna remarked as she passed you a glass of wine.

‘I thought about it.’  You replied as she clinked her glass against yours.

‘Oh no, no backing out.  Just talk to him.  He’s only here because you said you would be, and he’s nursing a glass of coke at the end of the bar like he’s been stood up by his best girl.’  She nodded in Gavin’s direction, just in case you hadn’t noticed him, sitting with one elbow on the bar, his chin on his hand.

‘It’s not like that.’  You rolled your eyes as you made your way across the room towards Gavin, wanting to let him know you were here.

‘Sure it’s not.’  Anna muttered.

‘Hey.’  You said just loud enough to be heard over the raucous sounds of your staff enjoying themselves.

Gavin turned on the stool to face you, smiling softly.  He had known you were here but didn’t know if you had been scared off by the antics of your coworkers.  He didn’t want you scared off, truth be told he wanted to be closer, he just had to be brave enough to take the next step.  He had never considered himself a coward until you came back into his life.  ‘All okay?’

‘Yeah, I just had to…uh…check all the doors were locked at the studio.’

‘And were they?’

‘Yep, all ship shape and secure!’  You exclaimed brightly.  Ship shape?!  You had never used that phrase before in your life!  Why did you lose your cool so easily when you were around him?  Okay, that was rhetorical, you knew precisely why.

‘Good.’  He laughed.  ‘And you’ve got a drink already.’

You nodded.  ‘Anna got me as soon as I came through the door.  So, cheers.’

‘Cheers.’  He raised his glass to yours and you each took a drink.

An awkward not-quite silence fell over you both as you tried to think of something to say, anything…well, okay, not something awkward but something.  Thankfully, Gavin thought of something, and it wasn’t something you would have thought of in a million years.

‘You want to dance?’

You blinked twice before you processed the question, unsure if you had heard him properly, before rapidly blurting a reply to his hopeful expression.  ‘Yes!  Sure!  I’d like that!’

‘Great.’  He got off the stool as you cringed at your overenthusiastic answer.  He didn’t seem to notice however, and took your hand, leading you carefully through your exuberant coworkers who had created a makeshift dance floor in the middle of the room by moving some tables aside.  He turned and took both of your hands, resting them on his shoulders before placing his own on your waist.  ‘Is this okay?’  He asked, and all you could do was nod.  ‘Good.’

He started you moving slowly, still in time with the beat yet far too slow for the tempo, but it worked.  You danced in silence for two full songs, neither of you seeming to know what to say, as though you were caught in some sort of spell that neither of you wanted to break.  The nearness, the heat from your bodies, your hearts fluttering at the heady combination.

‘Heeeeeeey, Gaaavviiiiinnn!!!!’  You both stopped and looked to the sound of the voice, one rosey cheeked and obviously drunk Minor, standing on a table and waving his half empty glass around.

Gavin cleared his throat and fixed Minor with a glare that would normally have had him squirming and apologising, but not with the amount of liquid courage he had so far imbibed.  ‘What, Minor?’

‘You wasted all those mistletoes!  Why didn’t you kiss her?’

Suddenly you were aware of every eye in the bar on you.  It wasn’t quite silent with the background music, but enough to make a difference.  Now you were blushing for an entirely different reason.  You took your hands from Gavin and took a step back as you looked at your feet.  You had wondered as much yourself, but it wasn’t something you would consider forcing Gavin into doing for the sake of tradition if it really made him uncomfortable.

You saw Gavin take a breath in your peripheral vision, you assumed to yell at Minor to mind his own damned business, but his reply had your head shoot up to stare at him.  ‘I don’t need mistletoe to kiss the woman I love.’

Before you could open your mouth to ask what Gavin meant, his hand caressed your cheek and tilted your face up to his.  You couldn’t have moved even if you wanted to, the gentle look in Gavin’s eyes as his lips approached yours drew you in, and before you knew it your eyes drifted closed expectantly.  The kiss was tender and gentle, nothing more than a simple press of lips, but it went on for more heartbeats than you could count.  Your pulse pounded loudly in your ears, blotting out everything around you.  You had never realised that such a small gesture could fill your every sense, but here you were, completely under the spell that Gavin’s lips had cast upon you.

Gavin finally parted from you, brushing your scorched cheek with his knuckles, his eyes studying you carefully, which was when the sound around you came rushing back in.  Whoops and cheers, led by Minor, of course, but it felt like every patron was suddenly invested in the scene before them.

You dropped your head in embarrassment once more, but this time Gavin wrapped an arm around you and pulled you to him protectively.  ‘You want to go somewhere quieter we can talk?’

You nodded and Gavin began to lead you towards the exit, while Minor continued to heckle, but not for long.  Just as Gavin opened the door a freak wind blew through, knocking Minor’s legs out from under him and sending him tumbling to the floor inelegantly.

The last thing you heard as you left was Minor’s laughing reply.

‘Worth it!’

[osterfieldshollandgirl]

Soulmates Mend Hearts Together

This story  is about meeting a soulmate and the story about how the journey is worth the travel. 

Thank you @fancyxholland​ for the inspiration of this. 

Y/N POV:

        Soulmates are a big concept in your world, you have always believed that your's was not too far from where you lived in London. However, you did not know that a couple of days after turning 18 years old you would meet your soulmate through an Instagram story. It all started with a Monday, with getting a Dm on Instagram from my friend Sarah of a video of an actor named Harrison Osterfield trying to catch whip cream in the air into his mouth. He does not catch it fully and catches half in his mouth and the other on his palm. He lick the remaining on his palm  while looking into the camera, you suddenly felt this sensation you have never felt before.

         This interested you because you heard there are certain connections between a soulmate and you can feel the actions and tastes of your other half. As soon as you saw the video again and felt the same chill between your body, you knew he was your soulmate. You replied to your friend saying, "He was your soulmate, I felt that lick he did and it felt so real." Your friend replied sarcastically, "Yes and when tom says darling my heart stops, he is my soulmate." I know that my friends do not believe in the concept so I decide to make and plan to find out myself if he is my other half. That same day, I follow his Instagram and write out a DM to him that says" Harrison, you and I have never met or know each other however I feel like we are soulmates.You see you may be thinking she is crazy how would she know. This website I am linking in this message proves that I am correct. See this certain action of yours made me tingle and I have never felt this way. So please respond with something, this means a lot to me." I reread it multiple times until I accidentally sent it when I moved my finger near the sent button. I freak out for a second, then close the app to check tomorrow if he will respond.

         That night you were sitting on your bed and tasted a sort of beer in your mouth even though you do not drink and not even a second later your friend Sarah called you freaking out. Once she calmed down and spoke normally I could hear what she was saying. " Check Instagram right now, Harrison posted and he out partying at a club looking so hot." I talk to her for 10 minutes then hang up and check out Instagram to see him in a club drinking beer. I see a DM notification and my heart is beating fast, I click and see a message from him, it read, "I understand you love me, but I do not believe that we are soulmates. Most girls feel my touch just looking at me." I roll my eyes and all of sudden taste hard liquor, making me feel slightly tipsy. I message back, " first of all stop drinking so much I taste the whiskey, the 3 beers you had before is good enough." Then I send a second one, "Please do not do anything predictable tonight, I need to rest and do not want to be disturbed." I then get ready to go to bed.

Harrison POV:

        The video I posted almost went viral making me happy, I only made it for laughs. The fans DM's rolled in and man were they interesting, one in particular by a  person named Y/N Y/l/N sent a message saying that they were my soulmate and that this link explained it. I called Tom over and had him read this, his reaction shocked me, he smiled as he agrees with this person. I look at him confused, "I cannot believe you think this concept is true. It is all a gimmick." He hands back the phone with the link on the screen, " I do not think so because it has all the symptoms you have felt and it can explain the cramps you get every month. It's like it is period on point." Tom continues to laugh and then smiles evilly, I know he had a plan to test out his theory. "Oh no, what is going inside that mind of yours?" I look at him with doubt that he might have something to do with cracking this case to see if it is real. The plan was to go to a club and get drunk and see if she felt and tasted the way Harrison did.

         On the way to the club, I message back something egotistical and snarky. Once we enter the club I immediately grab a beer for Tom and me, a beautiful girl walks by me and my heart races but I do not feel like going after her, I have never felt this way before. I see Tom flirting with that same girl and can see how they will probably flirt all night, so I finish the first beer and go to the bar to grab another one. I am nursing the last few sips of my second beer, getting bored when I see a girl make eye contact and come closer to seductively moving her hips as she walks towards me. I smirk and wink at her, she comes closer and says, "Hey sexy, comes to show me a good time." She pulls me by my hand to the dance floor, she turns around to grind on me as I grip her hips and just enjoy the moment. The music is loud so we could not chat, which is fine I am not much of a talker. She turns around as pull her closer and leans down to kiss her neck. I can sense like someone else is there but as I look around no one is around. The girl suddenly leans up and kisses me, I kiss back but it is again not the same. I curse under my breath, "Damn Y/N what did you do to me?" The girl hears what I murmured and slaps me across the face dramatically. I tried to apologize but she left already.

         I make my way back to the bar and to grab the third beer of the night, the bartender looks at me sympathetically. "Rough night mate?, I can make it better for you. This one is on the house." The bartender slides a whiskey to me with a wink, I smile back and thank him. I then ask the bartender, "Do you believe in soulmate's, as someone is meant for only one other person?" He looks at me with this smile and says with true honesty, "True love comes from within the heart and I believe that soulmates connect with the souls and heart connected to two people who are meant for each other. My story is true and I couldn't have believed it if I had not lived it, I was bartending a Monday night and there she walks in and orders a whiskey at 10 in the morning, I ask her, "Isn't it a little too early for that?" She answers, "No, I just wanted my whiskey with a view" and when she grabbed the whiskey to take a sip, I tasted the whiskey in my mouth as well. That is when I knew she was my soulmate." I nod my head and luckily someone ordered something so the bartender walked away. It was hard to wrap my head around what he said, so I finished my beer and washed it down with the whiskey.

            I suddenly felt tipsy but not drunk yet. I hear a ring from my phone and see an Instagram DM, I see the name Y/N and smile. Tom's plan worked, she messaged about the drinks and was accurate on how many I had tonight. What caught my attention was how she felt the same way as I did. I write back, "I promise to behave, but please let me be free tonight." I wait for 10 minutes for her response and no response meant fun night for me. I look for that girl that slapped me and spotted her all alone, I walk over and stand in front of her getting her attention. "I am sorry about earlier, please let me make it up to you." She looks at me and pulls me into another kiss except for this time I enjoyed it and we pulled away from each other going into the club's private room. She locks the door behind us as we walk in. I text Tom about what happened and let him know to meet me back at the house before she climbs onto my lap straddling me as we continue that hot kiss.

Y/N POV

       I woke up to a particular taste that was so unappealing feeling a bit of a hangover. At that moment  you knew what happened last night and immediately knew that he got my message and decided to not believe it. After a few minutes, you decide to get out of bed and go to brush your teeth and wash your face trying to think about what to do. I then get myself and ready for the day, and was about to forget my phone until a ring comes from it.

    I am about to read the message, when Sarah calls me and as I answer, she immediately says, "listen before you say anything I am doing this for your good. Do not read the recent tabloids." I say back slowly, "Why I thought that you were against this whole soulmate concept?" She is silent on the other end of the phone, "I can understand how you think and feel. I will try to be more supportive. But please knowing you, I will just tell you." I feel my heart pound waiting, "just tell me I can handle it." I hear a soft sigh, " Harrison is dating the model Macy Smith, he met her at the club yesterday." I feel tears in my eyes and clear my throat, "Thank you really, I am lucky to have you" and hang up.

    I immediately go to my news feed and see the pictures of them both together and feel sick. I then go to Instagram and see he messaged back. I respond with an interesting message, "You can date anyone you want, but you will realize I am right." I press send and go back to packing my bag. I hear a ding and read the message he sent back, it read "Why love, are you jealous?" I scoff as if I would be jealous. He may be my soulmate but he is not who I would have thought to end up with. I do not respond to that message  and then the next message is not exactly what I was expecting. "I understand that you like me but I am with Macy now. So please do not send me any more messages."

I close the app and continue with my morning even though my heart was breaking. I call up Sarah to ask "She wants to meet at Nando's for lunch?" My tone gives away that I am upset, immediately she agrees and says she is on the way. I smile happy that she is more supportive now.

Harrison POV:

     I wake up feeling hungover, I groan and roll over and see Tom sitting at the desk with disappointment written across his face. I sit up and lean against the headboard, "What's with you, I know you got some attention as well" I say and smirk. He only shakes his head and shoves his phone in my face, and I see the headline about Him and Macy together and smirk, "That is correct I am now with Macy, I am so excited to have a hot babe on my arm."

Tom stands up and paces then say with a snide tone, "What about Y/n, do you not think that she feels everything you do, this is not my best friend that I know" and storms out. I grab my phone and see notifications on Instagram and see Y/n has messaged back and I smile at her response. Her attention and attitude that she demands and gives are quite interesting. I respond with a classic response, "Why love, are you jealous?" And I do not get a response. Then before I could think about anything else, I decide to stop this relationship before it even started. I type a message to make her stop liking me, it hurts me to think about how she will feel but it is necessary. The message is sent and I see that it has been seen. I just hope that she handles it well.

       Tom enters the room, surprised to be dressed up. I walk over to him and say, "I am myself, just because I do not like a girl who claims we have a connection together does not make me a monster." I retort back to Tom. Tom stands still and says, "Macy is using you for fame, I would not trust her." I roll my eyes and get out of bed.  I walk over to the bathroom and start brushing my teeth and get ready for the day. I decided to go against the reality of what my relationship is and ask Tom," I am sorry, I will be better and to make it up to you could I take you to Nando's for lunch, my treat." Tom smiles and comes over to me hugging me, I smile and nod as we both head out to go to Nando's.

      I had a plan up my sleeve to prove that she could not be my soulmate. I text Macy to join us at Nando's, however, I do not tell Tom knowing he would try and stop me. 

All POV:

      At Nando's, Y/N and her friend just got there and as they were walking to the door  so was Tom and Harrison.  Tom and the friend made eye contact and so did Harrison and Y/n but Harrison did not recognize her at first. Harrison opened the door and motioned for my friend to walk through the doors first before he did with a charming smile on his face. Tom walked second after him because he tried to make me go first by lightly touched my back to motion for me to go but I wanted to talk to Harrison. Tom realized who I was and smiled and quickly tried to find Sarah.

      Tom ran after Sarah tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention. Sarah turns around and says," Hi, I am Sarah, wanted to thank you for being so kind back there." Tom smiles and flirts, "I always want to help pretty girls like you. Now I came to talk to you about making a plan to get those two together." Sarah winks at him and then, "I could not agree more, now let make this happen." Both Tom and Sarah make sure to get a table where they all sit together, and the plan continues from then.

       Harrison looked at the girl confused at first but as soon she grabbed his hand guiding him away from the restaurant, the spark between their hands became obvious and he realized who it was. And so his plan starts now.

        As they both stand on the sidewalk on the restaurant, Y/n does not seem happy at the charming boy in front of her. She looks at him with this look of awe and a little bit of anger, "Listen here, I am not going to let you tell me what to do, but I wanted to just let you know that I do not need to feel happy. I am glad you found someone who makes you, happy just do not break my heart please." She waited for his response and only got a smirk and before she could talk more, he cut her off with a kiss. This kiss changed everything because he pulls her by her waist into his body as her arms go around his neck and he deepened the kiss with asking for entrance with his tongue on her bottom lip, causing her to moan and he took the opportunity and kissed down the column of her neck.

        Once they pull away, he leans down and smiles looking into her eyes. His plan went out of the door for a moment. She looks up at him with a soft smile, just as she is about to say something, they hear a screeching squeal. "Baby, why are you kissing someone who is not me!" Macy says as she stomps her foot. I laugh at that notion and I see Harrison look at me for a slipt second and then look at Macy with a fake smile. He starts with, "Love, she kissed me and it meant nothing, I felt nothing. Now come on and let's go eat some lunch." Macy nods and says nasty, " I agree, you are so out of her league. No one would want someone like her." I am watching this scene unravel in front of me but what hurts most is that I feel Harrison's heart race within me since we are only inches away from each other.

       Harrison does nothing to help the situation and starts in the direction of the restaurant, and all I could do was look away so he could see the tears that formed in my eyes. I wait a few minutes outside so I can calm down and get myself together. I feel a tap on my shoulder and see a cute curly-haired boy standing behind me smiling nervously, "I just wanted to let you know that you are beautiful and do not believe that guy if he didn't enjoy that kiss he would not have been looking at you with that look in his eyes." I smile and compliment back," Thank you, I am Y/n. That was very nice of you. Would you like to join me for lunch?" He laughs and his laugh makes me feel happy, " I am Harry I am meeting my brother and friend here so just join us." I nod and walk beside Harry smiling and feeling better. Harry was looking at me with his side profile and a soft smile on his face when he thought I was not looking.

       We enter the restaurant and I see Harry wave over at Harrison, Tom, Macy, and my friend who was glaring at Macy. I laugh at that and Harry looks confused and laughs with me when he sees it. I notice his eyes brightened as he checks out my friend and I see my friend do the same with him. I instantly know how to set them up. We walk over and I see that the table had all sitting together, great I have to be at the same table as him. The seating arrangement is Tom, Y/N, Harry, and across us is Macy, Harrison, Sarah. As we have already ordered our food and was waiting for it, conversations started around the table. Macy and Harrison are being cringy with him making her fake laugh, and Harry and Sarah are hitting it off, I smile at how happy they look.  Tom and I look at the same time and end up laughing at that.

Harrisons POV:

       I hear Tom and Y/n laugh together and feel jealous that he is making her laugh like that. I decide to make her feel the same, I pick up Macys hand and kiss the back of it and see Y/n flinch slightly. That flinch caught Tom's attention which made him grab her hand and make sure she is okay while looking at me with a warning look to stop hurting her feelings. I sit back and realize that maybe I am not being fair so I stop being rude and wait for the food to show up.

Y/n POV:

       All the food comes out and we are enjoying the food. I used my hands for one piece of the chicken that was not coming out, I sensed someone watching and looked up to Macy looking at me with disgust. I stop what I am doing and leave that piece to the side. I hear Harrison tell Macy off for looking at me like that, I smile over at him with a smile and mouth, "Thank you." He smiles and for once our heartbeats are in sync, until Macy says," I at least do not eat unladylike, she is eating like a pig." I ignore her but Harry and Tom both protect me by defending me and start to use their hands as well to eat. I smile and realize the friends I made over lunch today are truly the best. Harrison excused himself as he also started to use his fingers to eat, as he walks away he winks at me, I blush.

     I decided to prove that Macy was fake so as I saw Harrison approaching the table again, I asked Macy, "If Harrison was not famous who would you go after?" She answers with such confidence, " honey if Harrison was not famous I would go for Tom, I am only with Harrison for his fame." Harrison sits down next to her calmly and I am nervous about what is about to happen. " I didn't mean anything by that baby, she made me say it," Macy says as she tried to defend herself. Harrison says calmly, " I can see how you feel, so we are over and Y/n made you only tell the truth, she is overall my soulmate so I trust her." He looks over at me and smiles as he grabs my hands from across the table. Macy gasps and stands up and leaves without another word.

      The food had been taken away and it was only us five at the table now. Tom and Sarah high five, Harrison looks over and questions their celebration. Sarah explains, " Y/n here was not happy with Macy and she put her in her place just as she did to you and look how you both are now. That was all part of our plan that Tom and I made together to get to you both to realize you are meant for each other." Tom and Harry look at each other and both grab each one of Sarah's hands and asks, "May we take you on a stroll in the park?" I see her look at me and nod my head and see them kiss the back of her hand.

        Now it is only the two of us and I  look Harrison in the eye and see true emotions behind them, he pulls my hands up to him his lips and kisses them gently. I do the same to his hands and enjoy the size difference of our hands. " I will give you one chance to prove that you are truly my soulmate besides our physical connections." He smirks and says, "Well our kiss was magical, and I only acted that way because I am not the smartest man. I would be honored to have you be mine. What do you say should we give us a shot?" I nod my head, but he says sexily," I need words, baby girl."I get flustered and say, " Yes, let do it." He cheers and walks over to my side of the table and pulls me out of the chair. He pulled me into his body by holding my waist and kisses me needy and passionately. I wrap my around his neck and kiss back equally as passionately. As we pull away we hear the restaurant cheer and thank them as we walk out of Nando’s holding hands. Your relationship proves that soulmates are truly meant for each other.  

  @littlekidsteve​ @peachyxholland @tom-holland-is-spiderman @follow-tom-holland-is-spiderman @parkerpeter24 @frenchfrostpudding @osterfieldnholland  @fanficparker @mymoontom @marvels-blue-phoenix @holytingle @petertiingz @fancyxholland

[sierracolorstheworldofwords]

A Sad Christmas- Reader x iplier egos

An: This is my Xmas gift for my dear friend Angy! @matronofthevoid you’re a freakin sweet heart and merry Christmas~

AHHHHH I JUST REREAD THIS AND NOTICED THE WHOLE ENDING WAS NOT POSTED!! SORRY!!

You couldn’t afford rent this year. Time was short, and work was hard— things just didn’t catch up in time. Your parents gave you till Christmas and you still couldn’t get enough money to pay the rent. You got a hundred dollars out and promised it wouldn’t happen again but..

They didn’t care.

They didn’t even give you a few days to pack your things.To try and figure things out! They just.. threw you out in the snow like a piece of unwanted trash.

They wouldn’t even let you get clothes.

“Those clothes of yours will help pay for the rent you owe us.” Said your mother, standing at the door, colder than the snow that fell from the sky.

“Mom— please—“ you whimpered, shivering, knees shaking in fear as you looked at her, eyes pleading, begging.

All she did was slam the door in your face.

You waited for a few minutes like a lost puppy in the cold, shivering, the hope in your chest wagging its small eager tail— this had to be a joke, right? Some form of lesson teaching? So that you wouldn’t be late for the rent again, right?

Right?

But nothing.

Nothing but the chill biting through your thin sweater, the snow falling down harder, the wind starting to whisper in an eerie voice as your teeth chattered. You walked through the snow, towards your car, thankful that you at least had a pair of boots on, but other than that, you were exposed to the elements.

You struggled to insert the key and twisted, before throwing the door open and climbing into the driver’s seat. Slamming it open, you put your key in the ignition, and let the engine heat up before turning on the heater. Letting yourself warm up, you took your phone out of your pocket and searched nearby shelters, hoping to find.. something. You did. There were three within the area! Maybe one of them would still have room.

They didn’t.

All of them were cramped and crowded, and you were turned down at each and every one. It made you feel… unwanted, as if there wasn’t enough room for you in the world, like there wasn’t enough space for you to even squeeze through.

So, you went to your last resort— the egos.

Now, things hadn’t been great between you and them, mostly because of Wilford.. who, for some reason, was angry at you. You had no idea why and every time you tried to confront him about it, he wouldn’t listen. So like hell you knew what was wrong, but you were desperate. You sighed as you sat in your car, parked in front of the last homeless shelter you went to. You put in the key and started it up again, letting everything warm up a bit, before driving to the ego mansion in flurry of snow.

When you pulled up into the driveway, your heart leapt up, full of hope— everything was so bright and cheery! And joyful! So maybe, just maybe there was room for you! Opening the door, you stepped out of the car, shivering as you watched your breath fog in the cold.

Yes, you heard it, Christmas music. Laughter. Happiness. Stepping forward, you walked to the front door on shaky knees, standing in front of the wreath covered door, you knocked, wrapping your arms around you. You waited. Your heart pounding as you listened to the wind howl, and felt the snow fall on your back, causing more goosebumps to appear on your skin. Your teeth chattering as the door opened.

“Hey—“ Bing stopped at the door, staring at you, his shoulders fell, “(Y/n)...”

“H-hey Bing!”

You noticed the quiet now. The stillness. The music stopped. The warmth fizzled out as well, replaced by the chill, by the snow, by the curse of winter.

“Bingy!” Wilford called, “Who’s at the door?”

Your eyes widened and you looked at the android, almost begging to be let in. You were so, so cold. So cold. The air pierced your lungs, frosted over the soft flesh of your insides, pierced you right through.

“Hey.. dude.. you.. you can’t be here..” whispered Bing.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “W-what? Am.. am I interrupting—“ your shoulders fell as you realized what was happening, “Oh.. oh.. is— is it the annual party?” You whispered.

His eyes filled with sadness as he nodded, “Wilford said we couldn’t invite you..”

Warm water came to your eyes, and your lips pressed into a firm line, before you pressed a smile, “Well— I… I just wanted to come and say Merry Christmas!”

You laughed emptily, before seeing Wilford behind Bing, glaring at you like.. like you were utter trash. Like you deserved to be out in the cold. Like you meant nothing. He pushed Bing out the way, and gave you a glare.

“Wilford.. c-could.. could I please come in?” You whispered, “Please?”

He gave you one last glare before slammed the door in your face.

You heard the noise echo throughout the neighborhood, and heard him yell—Anyone.. and I mean Anyone who let’s that.. bitch in, is gonna get shot! Your hear me?

No one fought back.

The music continued. Laughter came again. Warmth radiated throughout the house. Happiness fluttered through the windows, almost as if teasing— no, mocking, you.

You stood alone, clinging to yourself, lips quivering. No, no you wouldn’t.. you wouldn’t cry. You wouldn’t cry. A blast of chilling air howled and shrieked, bringing snow along with it.

Maybe someone would come, right?

Stand up for you because they cared?

They wouldn’t leave you alone on Christmas, would they?

You mattered to them, right?

Nothing but silence, silence coated with a cherry Christmas songs and laughter, coated with the noise of the wind, coated with snow and freezing breezes that sucked the warmth right out of you.

You took a step back, followed by another. And another. Slowly, you watched the warm house full of warmth and joy go further and further away. The hope in your chest slowly fading, replaced by the snow, by the cold, by the noise of the wind. Your steps went faster. The tears in your eyes falling quicker han the snow, turning into cold rivers that burned your cheeks.

No one was coming. There just wasn’t enough room for you in the world. No one cared to make enough room for you.

Turning away, you walked to your car, sobs racking your body as you shoved the key in and opened the door, slamming it shut. You turned on the engine, letting it warm up as you sniffed, hands numb and feet starting to get numb too.

No one was coming.

No one cared.

No one cared if you died in the cold, if you froze to death; if you became blue and covered in fern like frost.

No one cared.

No one cared if you were alone on Christmas Eve, worrying about whether you would be alive the next day.

No one cared.

Whimpering, your lips quivered as you swallowed a sob, wiping away your tears. You cared, you realized. You cared. You weren’t going to die. You weren’t. You could survive, you always had— during hunger and cold, waves of sadness, you survived. You could survive another night. You would survive another night.

Gripping the steering wheel, you turned on the heater, paying attention to how much gas filled your tank, only half a gallon. Okay, you’ve survived on less. You’ll get through this. You always do. Stepping on the gas pedal, you drove, wondering where to go. There was a park nearby— okay, that would be a good place. You knew a lot of people who stayed in their cars and parked there.

Everything would be fine.

You would survive.

You were a survivor.

You would be fine.

Driving, you watched the snowfall grow heavier, to the point where your windshield wipers couldn’t get it all off. Worry twisted in your gut.. maybe if you… if you explained what was wrong— No, no. Everything would be fine.

Everything would be fine.

You would wake up tomorrow on Christmas morning and.. and go to the nearest shelter. You’d get a bowl of warm soup.. you’d.. take a shower, maybe get warmer clothes.. you’d be alive.

You would survive.

Everything would be fine.

Entering the park parking lot, you looked around, noticing how the snow coated everything like a white fluffy blanket— the tops of the trees, the roof of the bathrooms, even the slides. It made it hard to drive, but you managed to park under a tree, thinking it would give you ample protection against the snow fall.

Everything would be fine.

You put the car in neutral, let the heater run on the lowest setting (since you figured it would save gas), and turned on the radio before pulling a lever on the side of your seat and pushing it back. Curling up, you listened to the soft Christmas music fill the car.. then you noticed an old towel in the backseat, and wrapped it around you, feeling a little warmer.

Everything would be fine.

Closing your eyes, you let out a sigh and rested your head on your arm, slowly falling asleep.

Suddenly, you were filled with a cozy warmth.

Christmas music softly filled the room you were in, which was decorated to the brim with decorations— beautiful lights that shimmered like stars, silver tinsel and a green tree, full of ornaments of every color you could think of.

You gasped, moving closer to the tree, you noticed a bright red and green striped box. Bending down, you unwrapped it, opened the box inside and found a warm fluffy blanket. You gasped softly, wrapping it around you and smiling, nuzzling your cheek into the warm white fabric.

A light on the tree went out.

You blinked in surprise, but shrugged, desperate to get warm in the blanket. You’d been so cold earlier and—

Another went out.

You shake your head, ignoring it.

Another blinked out, followed by another, and another and another and another! They all slowly faded.

Looking around, you noticed the tinsel disappearing, along with the ornaments on the tree, and the lights on the walls. The room became empty and dark. The warmth flickered out like a blown out candle, and the blanket you had was snatched away from you by the darkness.

You woke up gasping and shivering.

Sitting up you leaned forward and turned up the heater a bit, figuring if you kept it on the bare minimum, that you would survive till morning.

You lay back down and closed your eyes, curling up tightly and wrapping yourself up in the towel before falling asleep once more.

You were in the snow, shaking from the cold and wandering the woods— you noticed how the trees were coated in white and how the snow shone softly underneath the moonlight as you walked upon it. In the distance, you began to hear a soft jingling, almost like.. bells? Your eyes widened as it came closer, your heart pounding in your chest, a mix of excitement and fear. Who could it be?

Standing still, you looked around until you saw the sleigh, a red streak against the piercing snow and numb darkness. It stopped in the middle of a clearing, and a man, a little shorter than average and wearing a red suit came out. He stumbled a bit, before shaking his head and managing to walk straight.

“(Y/n)!” He yelled, “Come on in the damn sleigh! Let’s get your cold ass warm!”

You jogged up to the man, and finally noticed his red suit and white beard. You gasped and then smiled brightly, “Santa?”

He cleared his throat, “Santaplier, the better version!”

Your smile grew bigger and you ran to him, hugging him, he chuckled and took off his red fluffy coat, wrapping it around your shoulders.

“Hurry! Get in!”

Eagerly, you grabbed onto the sides of the sleigh and hoisted yourself in, giggling as he tried to call the names of the reindeer, but said fuck it and slapped the reins on their back, causing them to run. You passed the twisted branches of the trees, eyes wide in wonder as the wind played with your hair, the cold nipping your cheeks as the sleigh slowly lifted off the ground. Your giggled turned screams as you neared a cliff, but the man beside you just rolled his eyes, smirking.

“Now I got those damn names! Fuck! On dasher! On prancer, on Conor and Cupid! On Dancer on Vixen and Donner! And since Rudolph didn’t want to come— oooooooon Blitzen! Go!” Screamed Santaplier, laughing madly.

You shrieked as a deer went over the cliff before taking the sleigh with them, it dived down. You could see the choppy sea the cliff hung off of. You panicked, heart racing— but then! You soared! Going past the cliff and up into the sky! You even touched a cloud as you passed by the moon! Oh! It was so beautiful and bright, like a pearl burning in a fire of white! And the stars! The stars were little candles in the sky, leading the way as the clouds became a blue tinged cotton carpet beneath you.

Wonder filled you as you gasped, looking around as the sleigh steadied itself, the reindeer flying ahead of you.

“Oh! It’s beautiful!” You whispered, warm tears wanting to fall out of your eyes.

“And cold too!” Said Santaplier, pushing a button and causing two cups to come out of a hidden compartment. They started to fill up with a steamy hot drink as he pushed another button, causing a coat to slide out of a drawer.

“Here, hold this real quick.” He handed you the reins and grabbed the coat.

You smiled, feeling the warm worn leather in your hands. He grabbed them from you and snuggled into his coat, handing you a cup.

“What is it?”

He smirked, “You’ll see.”

Curious, you blew on the drink before taking a sip. Your eyes widened and you swallowed.

“It’s hot chocolate!”

He laughed and took a long drink, “The best in the world!” He shivered slightly, and gestured to a red round button, telling you to push it. You did, and two golden metal arms popped up behind you and wrapped the both of you in a brown warm quilt.

“That’s better.” He muttered, sighing in content.

“I couldn’t agree more.” You sighed in content, sipping your hot chocolate.. which.. wasn’t so hot anymore. More like.. cold. You shrugged, wrapping your blanket close, and finished.

Then the wind howled.

Santaplier shrugged, flying a bit higher, or trying to.

“What the fuck?” He whispered, “I can’t— the reindeer are disappearing!”

Your heart pounded as you realized it, watching them as they vanished one by one, the sleigh going further and further downwards. Panic flooded your veins as you hyperventilate, the last one fading into nothing.

“What do we do?!” You shrieked, looking at Santaplier, who began to fade away too. “No! No wait— you can’t!”

You watched him disappear along with the sleigh. Then, you were falling, screaming into the darkness as the cold swallowed you whole.

You woke up screaming, shivering again, shaking from the cold. You sat up, breathing heavily, goosebumps forming on your skin. You grabbed the knob of the heater, turning it on all the way as a voice urgently came from the radio, warning people to stay inside.

Worried twisted in your stomach, but you ignored it and turned off the radio.

Everything would be fine. You assured yourself, noticing the snow piled on top of your windshield, you trembled, before laying down and curling up once more.

You closed your eyes, listening to everything around you. The wind was loud, it was all you could hear now.

Everything would be fine.

You pulled the towel around you tighter and closed your eyes.

A long table full of food, candles and covered in a long white tablecloth embroidered with holly. You smiled softly, noticing all your friends sitting at each of the chairs. You stood nervously, before Wilford laughed heartily, “(Y/n)! Come join us!”

Your face lit up like a Christmas tree, “R-really? Aren’t you mad at me?”

He laughed again, “Of course not old friend! Come! Come! Sit next to me!”

You laughed, running up to the table, tears in your eyes, “You aren’t?”

You happily sobbed, full of relief as you hugged him, and he chuckled, hugging you back. He then gave you a plate of food as a strange man sat next to you, dressed in a white suit.

You didn’t pay any attention to him as you talked with Wilford and the others, laughing at their jokes and stories, eating food food.

Then, just as before, like a match going out in the wind, they disappeared one by one.

You sobbed, noticing one hadn’t left. It was the man who sat next to you.

“I believe I was never formally introduced to you, (Y/n). I’m Mori.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, as the candles went out, but this time, you felt warm.

“Hello.. M-Mori— are you.. are you a dream t-too?”

“Oh no, well.. right now, yes. But you aren’t going to wake up.”

“What do you—“ your eyes went wide. Tears flooded them, “Oh no.. no! No it can’t be!”

He swept his arm into the air and you weren’t at the table anymore, instead, you had a view of your car from above, slowly, you fell, until you were beside it.

“I can’t be dead!” You whispered, crying, “I can’t be! Everything is going to be okay! I’m going— I’m going to wake up and—“

You sobbed, tears running down your face as you started to feel a strange feeling in your chest. A beating, getting slower and slower. You placed a hand on your chest, and looked at Mori.

“You’re not dead yet, but you will be.”

You said nothing, tears running down your cheeks as you collapsed in the snow, screaming as the beating stopped.

Mori looked down at you, sadness filling his eyes. You were such a good soul. You didn’t deserve a fate like this. You died. All because of a stupid grudge.

“Come now,” said Mori, “I’ll take you somewhere warm, where you won’t have to worry about a thing. But, before I do, is there anyone you’d like to see?”

You nodded, “My friends. Since I loved them like family.” You whispered, getting up and taking his hand.

Suddenly, you were in the living room you’d been in too many times before. You watched your friends dance, sing, even sit on the couch and cuddle. They all looked.. so.. happy. Wilford passed through you and shivered, before shrugging it off and grabbing Dark’s hand, forcing the usually grumpy ego to dance.

“They all seem so happy.” You said, “Especially without me around.” You forced a smile, looking over at Mori, “I’m ready to go.”

He blinked in surprise before nodding, grabbing your hand once more, causing you to float.

You went up to the ceiling, passing through it, before passing through the second story, and eventually the roof.

You watched the house grow smaller and smaller, along with the neighborhood— all the houses looked like a tiny village, which glowed brightly, then, when you couldn’t see it anymore, you looked up.

You kept flying higher, watching the moon come closer, seeing the stars become bright lights against the dark indigo sky.

You went passed the clouds, going up.. up.. up.. into the stars.

[honeyedhoseok]

Besitos (TA!Jimin) ENDING Notes

This will be a sort of talking/explanation/ranting post about the end of Besitos (TA!Jimin). Side note: look at this old banner with my old url :’) brings back memories....

If you have no idea whats going on, I made a post about it HERE. 

********SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT!!!!!!!!!*********

I’ve just finished rereading the two parts I posted of this story and can I just say: this story gives me hella anxiety. Some of the dialogue is so cringey, and there are no dialogue tags to tell who is saying what sometimes, and Y/N and Jimin’s relationship seems a little fast to me—but hey, I did write the first part almost TWO years ago. I can’t fault myself for looking back on it and shuddering a little. I’d like to think that means I’ve grown a lot as a writer if I can point out the flaws in my old stuff.

 Now, on to the story line.

 The last part leaves off with Jimin and Y/N getting cockblocked by Taehyung through the wall of Jimin’s apartment. I want to note here that I realized while rereading—earlier in the story, I establish Taehyung as Jimin’s “wingman” of sorts, but then he ends up accidentally ruining everything about their alone time they were supposed to be having because he and Jenny end up staying the night. I don’t know if that was intentional or an accident on my end—it’s nowhere in my notes (which are few and sparse) and sometimes when you’re writing, you go to places you didn’t expect. But, I knew in that scene I NEEDED something to happen where Y/N and Jimin couldn’t have sex—one, because I didn’t want to write it yet, and two, because, well their relationship is fresh. And Besitos was originally supposed to be just fluff.

 The third part of Besitos was supposed to start right where the second left off—Y/N in Jimin’s apartment the next morning as they are waking up. In a document titled “Besitos pt 3”, I have only THIS small scene written:

You woke up the next morning to a slight tickling sensation on your hip—fingertips running softly up and down in an aimless manner that had you smiling in your half-asleep state.

You rolled over to come face to face with a sleepy Jimin, the rays of sunlight from his window casting him in a golden light, and even more so as he grinned at you with messy hair and puffy eyes. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” you said, yawning. “How long have you been up?”

“Just a little while,” he replied. “I heard Taehyung and Jenny shuffling around—she’s an early riser.”

“Oh, are they still here?”

 Yes, I’m fully aware that I suck lol. But the third part was supposed to go something like this: I wanted to showcase that Jimin and Y/N were taking the proper steps to finishing out the school year strong. In my head, chapter three would have had a little cute scene at the beginning with Y/N and Jimin playing around in bed. Then Y/N would suddenly realize she told her roommates before that she was going to drink with her Psychology friends .  . . and ended up staying out all fucking night, hence, a lie to her roommates. They would be waiting for her when she got home, wondering what happened, and Y/N would finally give them the details of her and Jimin. Her roommates would be shocked—as would anyone—and be a little hurt that she didn’t believe she could confide in them, blah blah, then it would eventually lead to a tied up ending to those unsure feelings Y/N was having since the beginning.

 The only thing I had thoroughly planned out next was the end of the school year. So, as filler between her friends scene and the ending scene, I wanted to put in something that related to the title. As you may know, besitos means little kisses in Spanish, so I wanted to play on that. I had in mind that Jimin and Y/N don’t get to see each other as much as they wanted to (or spend alone time together) so whenever they can, they get in these “little kisses” to hold each other over until they can. Corny, I know, but whatevs lol. I have this line of dialogue written down in my notebook where Y/N says, “Can’t you give me something? One little kiss?” and so I wanted to incorporate that in.

As for the end, I just wanted Y/N and Jimin to hold off on really, truly, being a couple until Y/N finished the school year. The summer would be when they could both really spend time together and I wanted Y/N to finally decided that she wanted to become a creative writing major by the end. I had it in my head that Y/N was going to take creative writing classes in the summer to get ahead (because she’s switching her major late) and so she’ll still be in town at the university and so will Jimin, so they’ll be together quite a lot then.

 As an ending scene, I just wanted her to visit Jimin in his office or something when classes are over and have a cute little talk about where their relationship is going (because it’s about to take off now that school is over) and then maybe Jimin would confess something that he didn’t tell Y/N in the beginning—I have this part written in my notebook, so I’ll just type it here:

 “I may have walked in that day after class, and Taehyung had your draft on the table…” Jimin says, trailing off.

(referring to that time Y/N fucked up and left Jimin’s name in her homework title)

“He promised not to tell!” you whined, covering your face with your hands.

“He didn’t tell,” Jimin cooed, gathering you up in his arms and pressing a small kiss to you nose as an apology. “I read it myself—then he told me.”

So yeah, I wanted Jimin to explain to her that he knew that she was interested, and so that’s why he was pretty forward with asking her to go walking with him and etc. I thought it would be fun and lighthearted and end the story on a good note :’)

 So that’s my spiel. I hope all of this made sense and makes some of my TA!Jimin fans happy! Thanks to everyone who supported this series, it means a lot!! <3 Also if you have ANY lingering questions, PLEASE! ask me!!!! Others might have them too, and I’d love to still talk about this because I do like this story a lot! 

Love you all,

Elle <3

[rannadylin]

Friends and Monsters

OKAY SO @queen-scribbles I’m still working on Lenn and Anselm who might actually manage to be concise with their memories here, but Lottie’s kind of got a little out of control and by that I mean you get a ficlet, which is apparently what happens when I attempt to answer OC asks after two months of no writing? ;-D So I’m gonna go ahead and post it independently!

21. A memory of the first time they did an activity they love

They were old friends long before she understood how to put them together in new combinations, how to decipher their secrets on her own, the letters on the pages. She didn’t know yet what to call each of them on its own, but repetition breeds familiarity, and by the time she was two she could point to perhaps one in four words on the pages of her favorite books and echo what she’d heard Mama, or Papa, or sometimes Violy when their parents were busy with so many other little ones, say as they sat down to read that page to her. Mama always read every part in different, funny voices, sometimes even singing out some of the lines, making little Lottie laugh. Papa read with less energy and less volume, his voice as steady and gentle as his arms around each of the twins, somehow balancing the book on his lap between both of them. Lottie learned the words quickest when Violy took over reading to her little sister, though, for Violet, having only just finished her at-home learning herself and due to begin calpulli school that winter for the next part of her education, had a habit of trailing a finger along the rows of words, lined up on the page like the furrows in a field of rice, as she sounded out the words. So Lottie didn’t have to guess so much which cluster of letters made the word Violy was saying at any given moment, and she was quick to file every such clue away, only to echo them under her breath the next time someone read that book to her.

Which was frequent, for little Lottie, far more than her siblings, was forever pestering anyone and everyone to indulge her in a rereading. “Didn’t I just read that one to you yesterday?” her mother laughs now, as Lottie holds up a battered volume of Monsters of the Deadfire Archipelago.

“That’s the one I read her this morning, at any rate,” her father adds as he walks up with baby Eréndira in his arms. “Exotic tastes, for one so small. Lost interest in the children’s section of our library already, have you, dear?” He hands the baby off to Mama and bends to tuck a wayward tuft of Lottie’s hair back into its braid. “I swear, half the things she finds in there, I didn’t even know we owned.”

Mama opens the book, flips idly through some of the pages with one hand while jiggling the baby in the other (Lottie leans away from Papa’s efforts, strains to see if any of the words are the ones she’s looking for). “I think, actually, this is the one Adela gave her last month when Magda and Voltan were in town for the festival.”

“Oh, did she? That’s awfully nice of her.” Papa’s mouth quirks in the way that means he wants to laugh and thinks he ought not. “Also somewhat frightening, given that means there are two little ones in the clan with such exotic tastes. Adela being a wee bit older than this cousin of hers does not exempt her. Should we be worried you’re about to dash off to the Deadfire on an expedition, Lottie?”

She beams, eyes wide at the thought, already beginning to compile a list in the back of her head of the things she must see on such an expedition – but that brings her back to the immediate expedition, or at least errand, or anyway, the question to be resolved. “Papa,” she asks, “do the zulani snakes come from Deadfire?”

Her parents exchange a bewildered look (not the first in Lottie’s three years, nor will it be the last) at this glimpse into her thoughts. “Er, not to my knowledge,” Papa says. “And I would think, after reading this Monsters book to you so often in the last month, I would remember if it mentioned zulani snakes…”

Lottie purses her lips in determination and reaches to Mama for the book. “It called them something else. But Violy was reading me ’bout the animals in the Plains, from her book for school, and zulani do that thing, you know, they twist round something then they eat it.” She demonstrates this by twirling around several times, skirts swirling wide, clutching the book ever tighter with a squeal of giggling.

Her parents still look bewildered when she comes to a stop, momentarily dizzy. So she sits down and opens the book from Adi on her lap, flipping through in search of words she has only recently come to know. (She is three now: far more than one in four have become friends, recognized with delight in new sentences as she would be delighted to see her cousins or calpulli playmates or even her various siblings in some place where she never saw them before, and to find them still the same people though out of their proper place.)

It still takes her some time to find it, for the book did not use the name zulani, even if she knew (she does not, yet) what form that sound would take on a page. But Violet’s book used other, less particular words for the creatures too, and she took note of their shapes: snake, serpent. There it is! She thrusts a finger at the rice-furrow where Winding Serpent grows. She says that part out loud, and Papa’s eyes widen as he crouches beside her to see it. She doesn’t recognize all of the words following after that part; seldom have her narrators read this far in this book, and Deadfire serpents appear to attract to themselves many words she has not yet met in other, safer rice-furrows. Well, they are Monsters, after all, so that seems proper.

But she presses on and fits together this much, slowly reading aloud the bits she can: “…shoot up out of the…the…”

“Ocean,” Papa supplies, and she flies on, not before adding that one to her growing collection of word-friends.

“…landing on the deck, coi…coiling and…winding their way a…around, snapping up any crew…” Lottie pauses. This one is an odd friend, for she’s heard them read it enough that she could make the sounds to go with that bunch of letters on the page, but, “Papa? What’s crew?”

“Dawnstars preserve us,” Mama mutters, still jiggling the baby, “when did she learn to read?”

Papa glances between the two of them and diplomatically opts to answer his wife first, or at least to respond, for what answer to that mystery could he know? “Explains her recent selections from the library, at any rate. Or maybe it’s the other way around?” He proceeds to Lottie’s question. “Crew are the kith working on the boat, dear. The sailors and such.”

She takes this in with eyes and mouth wide and round. “Ohhhh,” she sighs with tiny disappointment. “I thought it was some animal I hadn’t heard of before.”

Papa chuckles. “Not to worry, my curious one. There are yet plenty of those to discover, especially since it seems that no book in the library shall be safe henceforth.”

She briefly wonders what henceforth looks like on a page, but does not think it would be on this page of Monsters, so she returns to the question that sent her to this book in the first place. “I think it’s the same, though? Winding Serpent, it’s just like the zulani?”

“Oh,” Papa says, adjusting his spectacles so that she is not sure if she imagines the gleam in his eyes or if that’s just the light flashing off the glass. “Because they both constrict their prey.”

“Constrict?” She glances back to the book, wondering how that one looks on the page, because it seems likelier to be in this passage than henceforth, since Papa is actually talking about the snakes now.

“That twisty bit,” he grins, twirling a hand in imitation of her demonstration earlier. “Winding and coiling around, yes, and then they do indeed eat it.”

She brightens. “So they are from Deadfire!”

“Hm. I suppose there could be some common ancestry. Not quite the same creature, though, Lottie. For one, zulani are much smaller than these Deadfire sea serpents must be. I’ve never heard of an orlan attacked by one, at any rate. Mostly they go for rabbits and things. So don’t you worry about zulani coming after you, my wee clever girl.”

She blinks at him in surprise, ears flicking forward. “I wasn’t worried,” says Lottie. “Just curious.”

[rosalind-of-arden]

Smoke and Iron Reread Qualls Ephemera

Right, so this is already running long and I’m not past the ephemera. Let’s just give this thing it’s own post, shall we? Throwing it under a read more link for discussion of torture.

This is our first introduction to Qualls, and until the second paragraph of the letter, it isn’t entirely clear that he was the torturer in Rome, not someone currently in the process of torturing Wolfe again. Talk about building suspense.

Timeline stuff: This letter was probably written right after Wolfe’s release and Qualls’s meeting with the Archivist. It is attached to transcripts of Wolfe’s most recent interrogations. Therefore, most likely, Wolfe was released immediately after being tortured for the last time, which fits with him coming home weak and bloody. We know Wolfe got home in the middle of the night. Did Qualls go to the Archivist in the middle of the night, then? Or the next morning?

Just a few sparse details on Wolfe’s condition, but they’re devastating: “no variety in his responses to questioning, whatever the particular tools we chose to employ. He rarely speaks at all now.” 

That “particular tools” is rather ominous, having had a glimpse of the torture chamber back in Paper and Fire. Interesting that Qualls, a professional torturer, is speaking in euphemisms here. He doesn’t even use the word “torture.” Possibilities: 1, he’s uncomfortable with talking about what he did due to trauma/suddent attack of conscience. 2, The Artifex prefers not to hear the gory details. 3, The Artifex does want gory details, and Qualls is denying him the satisfaction of that.

So, from a realistic psychological and forensic standpoint, torturing people for information is pretty much useless (interesting overview of this here). People lie, they get angry and defiant, they give incomplete or misleading information when they tell the truth, and so on. Either the Library hasn’t worked this out (who the fuck knows what state the field of psychology is in), or the Artifex just doesn’t care. Or both.

They spent six fucking months torturing Wolfe after determining that there was nothing left to learn from him. Six months dedicated entirely to hurting him without even the pretense of it benefiting the Library. That is seriously fucked up. From the way Qualls words this, it was the Artifex’s decision to continue.

That six month mark might represent a turning point. No one expected to get information out of Wolfe anymore, so keeping him sane no longer mattered. Driving him insane was probably the goal, at least for the Artifex. However bad things were for the first six months, they could have gotten a lot worse after that.

Things Qualls has been asking Wolfe about: the press, his research, people he worked with, and Santi.

A good half a paragraph is dedicated to describing Wolfe’s insistence that Santi had nothing to do with the press. This is something Qualls asked Wolfe about a lot. This is information the Artifex really wanted. And from that “I don’t think it’s worth killing a High Garda captain,” I get the impression that there is an answer the Artifex wants, and Wolfe has refused to give it. The Artifex is trying to get evidence, no matter how flimsy, to justify killing Santi. Why?

A full year of torture, and Wolfe has defended Santi’s innocence the whole time. He loves him so fucking much.

When discussing torture, “break” is often used to mean the point at which the victim starts giving information to the torturer. That usage does not appear to exist in Library verse. Even Qualls uses “break” and “broken” exclusively to describe Wolfe’s mental health. For Qualls and the Artifex, breaking Wolfe doesn’t mean making him cooperative, it means giving him such severe PTSD he can’t function.

There is a very large power imbalance between Qualls and the Artifex. The Artifex gives his orders without explanation or justification. Qualls does not know why the Artifex hates Wolfe.

Qualls states that he is not a good person, but he has reached his limits. Another interesting bit of psychology: torturers can get PTSD from what they’re doing. That may play a large part in Qualls making the decision to free Wolfe. Those trauma symptoms might have gotten bad enough for Qualls that he can’t stand to continue.

Another possible motivating factor: I’m guessing most prisoners in Rome don’t last so long there. After a year of working so closely with the same victim, Qualls might have come to sympathize with him, making it harder to tolerate hurting him. The specific focus on Wolfe suggests this. Qualls isn’t trying to release any other prisoners. He isn’t telling the Artifex to leave any other prisoners alone.

“There are limits, and he has reached them.” This is interesting. It suggests that there was some inciting incident to push Qualls over into stopping the torture. Take this with the comment about tools earlier in the letter, and there’s reason to suspect that at the Artifex’s orders, Qualls either tried a new torture method or intensified the use of one he’d been using, and Wolfe’s response to it in some way shook Qualls.

Qualls took a very thorough approach to getting Wolfe released. By the sound of it, he told the Archivist after he released Wolfe, not before. He had to have told Keria before, since she was there when Wolfe was released. And then he blackmailed the Archivist for good measure. There was basically no way the Archivist could refuse to sign off on the release.

He takes a multi-pronged approach with the Artifex as well. He assures him repeatedly that Wolfe is “long past broken” and that releasing him is an “almost meaningless act of mercy” - in short, that the Artifex’s goals of hurting and silencing Wolfe have already been achieved. He states that the Obscurist and the Archivist are already on his side. And then he also blackmails him with the threat to expose Library secrets.

Even with all those precautions, the Archivist and/or Artifex could very well have killed Qualls for this. He did it anyway. Whatever made him decide to stop hurting Wolfe, he felt strongly enough about it to risk his life.

It sure does sound like Qualls has some interesting dirt on the Library. Impatiently waiting to see if any of this turns out to be relevant in Sword and Pen.

[tmorriscode]

Yours, Charlie

(Charlie Weasley, Hufflepuff!MC, pre-relationship)

I base all these imagines on my own MC, an actual human disaster/apprentice curse breaker who will eventually leave curse breaking to become an adventure archaeologist. Yay, continuity!  You can read the other imagines here. 

—

People graduate with good intentions to stay in touch. They go their separate ways. They change. Life happens. They grow apart.

Then one day, they meet up and discover that these friends who were once as comfortable to be with as your favorite pair of old boots, are simply different people.

This is not what happens to you.

—

“Dear (Y/N),

Thanks for inviting me to see Greece with you, but I’m not going to be able to visit.

Getting kitted out for the job has taken more of my first paychecks than I anticipated. (I know I complained about needing a new wand in my last letter, but I also needed fire-proof clothing, and a better broom. My old Cleansweep just wouldn’t cut it. I’m thinking of getting their newer model. )

I’m going to try pulling in extra shifts on my off days for a while so I can afford everything.

The Weird Sisters at the Acropolis sounds like it would have been brilliant. Maybe think of me when you stand under the stars listening to Do the Hippogriff.

If you ever find yourself in Romania, look me up.

Yours,

Charlie

You put the letter aside and stare out the window of the flat you share with nine other apprentice curse breakers. (It’s not so bad. Most of you sleep in magically-expanded luggage. It feels rather more like a dormitory than a flat).

You can certainly understand having to squeeze every galleon until it shouts for mercy.

But you really wanted to see Charlie.

You’re making loads of friends, and there is talk that you might get to head up your own exploration of a cursed tomb.

But outside of sporadic letters, you’ve barely heard anything of your old Hogwarts crew.

Of course Bill, your honorary big brother, had been in the habit of writing you letters already. Mostly filled with curse-breaking advice he learned in Egypt.

Rowan tells you that Barnaby is happy in his new job with the Ministry’s Beasts division. (Barnaby never was much for writing. Or even literacy). They partnered him and Lizard up. So at best, they confuse the illegal beast smugglers into giving up.

As for Rowan, your first and best friend, she’s working on rare and unusual wood acquisition for Ollivander. (And enjoying the obscure minutiae). It’s not teaching at Hogwarts, but Dumbledore had been kind when he suggested that she get some life experience and perhaps specialize in a field of study before applying for a teaching position.

Speaking of the ministry, Tonks made it into the aurors and Tulip is doing something she can’t talk about in the unspeakables department.

Ben is an apprentice healer with St. Mungos, and Penny is working with the hospital’s potions department.

No one has heard from Talbot since the leaving ceremony. You wouldn’t be surprised if he decided to live as a bird somewhere. Despite your best efforts to friend that boy, he always did fly solo.

Andre has been the most successful of your lot. He is on the reserve team for Pride of Portree. They’ve a rather deep bench, so he may not get to play this year. But he’s drawn some notice in the fashion world by wearing his own designs to various Quiddich functions. He writes that Madame Malkin even discussed the possibility of carrying his designs in her shop.

Jacob is home, letting Mum drive him mental while he studies to take his NEWTS.

It feels like you’re all drifting apart.

Charlie has been the most faithful to answer your letters. Out of all your friends, his letters are the ones you find yourself rereading. He’s the one you find yourself thinking of most.

On one hand, you could invite your new curse breaker friends along to the concert. They’d probably all end up going. You’d stay out too late, drink too much. In the morning someone would do an embarrassed sneak from a magical trunk that was not theirs, hoping the others didn’t notice, while the rest of you pretended not to see.

Get up, break some curses, bring back ancient treasure, take siesta, get up, party half the night and fall in bed exhausted. Then repeat.

It sounds glamorous when you write to Tonks about it. But it’s actually become extremely monotonous. And there’s an edge of loneliness about the whole thing. For all that your roommates talk big about being out on their own for the first time, a lot of the boasting sounds like it’s covering up for homesickness.

Picking apart the tangle of your emotions, you realize that was the real reason you wanted to see Charlie so bad. You miss his quiet, stable presence. You’d never realized until he lived an entire country away, exactly how much you needed that grounding force in your life.

Right. You decide that the mountain would just have to go to Muhammad.

So you pick up your biro and write.

—

Dear Charlie,

Don’t worry about the concert. In all honesty, I probably shouldn’t spend my paycheck on tickets, anyway.

I’m not really bringing in much treasure yet. I volunteered to go through a cache in an old monastery up in Thessaloniki. There are some interesting books there, but not much else. I think the goblins were hoping for gold votive items.

They let me keep the books. I’m meeting with the Library of Alexandria’s acquisitions wizard, who may buy the ones I don’t want.

I do have a three-day weekend coming up, and I don’t really want my co-workers to drag me out to another taverna “to toast Dyonisis” one more time. We’re supposed to stay sharp to avoid curses, but most of them are doing this job while hung over. I’m a little afraid that one of them might not come back one day.

If your offer stands, and I wouldn’t be in the way, I’d like to visit. I think I could make the apparition in three jumps. So I wouldn’t need to spend anything on portkey or flue (and you know I’ve never had a broom).

I don’t expect you to entertain me. I’d probably just spend the whole time reading.

Yours,

(Y/N)

Charlie puts the letter down, and rests his chin in his hand. Your letter leaves him with a warm feeling inside.

He looks around the tent he’s been assigned with a sigh. It’s not much.

You’ve written that you’re sharing a flat with a number of apprentice curse breakers. That you’ve set up a bedroom/study inside a haversack with an extension on it. So you’re no stranger to Spartan living.

He grins to himself. Given your posting, you probably know more about the Spartans and the way they lived than he does.

He knows that he can’t set aside time to spend with you, even if he’d like to. (And he would like to. Just— there’s a new clutch of hatchlings. And they’re brilliant!)

Now you, here, would be a distraction from the work he needs (wants) to do.

But he offered. And deep down, he knows he’d feel lighter just knowing you were in the same space, even if you were ships that pass in the night.

Even for stolen moments as he rushes to work earlier than he has to. (“Weasley!” Godwin, His supervisor shouted at him this morning, “If you fall off your broom because you didn’t get enough sleep, I’m going to personally hex you!”) or comes back and collapses face-first into his bed.

With a sigh, he grabs a fresh parchment and composes his letter.

—

Dear (Y/N)

If you want a place to retreat to, I have an open tent.

I won’t be around much, sorry to say. We just hatched our first successful clutch of Romanian Longhorns In nearly three years. I’ve been put in charge of the dawn to 3 P.M. shift in the nursery.

Also, I smell like regurgitated chicken guts and brandy most days. I’m mostly used to it, but I’m told the smell lingers.

Just warning you.

Yours,

Charlie

—

When you appear at the apparition point, no one is there to greet you. You look about for a moment with a heavy heart, wondering if maybe Charlie forgot. Then you shrug the hurt and disappointment away. He did say he was consumed with the dragons. Getting upset at him for being dragon-obsessed after all this time would be pointless. You may as well ask water not to be wet.

You’ll just have to find your own way.

You’ve taken three steps when an Olive-skinned woman with black eyes bustles up to you. She exudes confidence and competence in a way that reminds you of McGonagall.

“Are you here for the reserve?” She asks. Her accent sounds like she might be from around Bristol.

“Um. . . Yes?” You wonder why Charlie never mentioned that he was sending someone.

“Good! Follow me.”

You hitch up your haversack and fall in line behind her.

“I’m Godwin. You can call me Ma’am for now. If you’re still here next week, you can call me by my name. We’ll have a tent for you by the end of the day, but we’re short-handed for now. Everyone wants to play with the new hatchies and no one wants to shovel the dung.” She sounds exasperated.

With a start, you realize that Godwin thinks that you’re a hopeful dragonologist. You consider correcting her - but then again, she did say they needed help.

Lending a helping hand has always been your weakness. Anything from the hospital wing to the Three Broomsticks. If you were asked, you’d roll up your sleeves.

If Charlie was unable to even meet you, then perhaps the least you could do is lighten his and his co-workers load.

—

Charlie looks at the position of the sun, then swears. You were supposed to apparate in about an hour ago. He takes off for the apparition point at a run. When he gets there, an annoyed wizard sits, surrounded by bags.

“Have you seen a witch?” Charlie holds his hand up to indicate your height. “She’d have been carrying a haversack, and possibly wearing a sweater with an initial on it?”

“Are you having me on?” The wizard snaps. “I’m supposed to start work today. But no one met me.” He has a nasally whine that sets Charlie’s teeth on edge.

Charlie scratches his neck. He has a sinking feeling that he knows where you went.

—

You’ve scooped most of the composted dung pile into fertilizer bags when Charlie turns up with Godwin. He seems unsurprised to see you in your Wellies and dungarees. Godwin frowns at you like you’ve personally offended her.

“Hi Charlie!” You wave cheerfully at him. “It doesn't matter if you smell like chicken guts now. I think I might smell worse.”

Charlie rolls his eyes. “It figures I’d find you here.”

“Why did you let me think you were a new hire?” Godwin berates you.

You lean on your shovel. “You seem like you needed the help. And I don’t mind the work.”

She throws her hands in the air. “You must have been a Hufflepuff.”

Charlie laughs at that. A deep, hearty sound that you’ve sorely missed. “Come on, (Y/N), let’s get you cleaned up, and you can come meet the hatchlings.”

—

Dear Charlie,

Thanks for inviting me up for a visit. I enjoyed getting to meet your co-workers and seeing the reserve.

Guess who got to explore the ruins on Mount Parnassus? That’s right! Yours truly. We located a chest of coins paid to the Oracle of Delphi in exchange for her prophecy.

Did you know that to make a prophecy, the oracle first sat on a tripod over a chasm, breathing in fumes until she was high as a kite? And that those fumes were said to come from the decomposing remains of an ancient dragon that Apollo slew? (So much about divination class makes sense now.)

I’m sending you a scroll that has Homer’s account of the battle between Apollo and the dragon. It was part of my share of the treasure. (I seem to have trouble choosing sensible treasure like gold, when there are books that no one but me wants).

Of course, it’s written in Greek, so you probably can’t read it. But maybe your dragon reserve would like it for their library.

At any rate, I’m due for another long weekend next month. If you’d like some company, I’d love to visit again.

Yours,

(Y/N)

[echoes-of-realities]

2 10 27 30 and 43 for 'but I can hear my heart pound (and it’s reaching out to you)'

2. things that motivate you

100000% it’s comments that motivate me!!!! Comments or tags on my fic make me want to keep writing!!!! Like there’s a couple tags on some of my fics (looking at you Tilly, Kat, and Kurzel) that I will go back and reread whenever I’m unmotivated or feel like a bad writer and it 1000000% the comments that remind me that people actually like my writing. 

10. how do you do your researches?

So this depends on the fic, but a Lot of the things I write are pulled from my own life, or I’ve asked people about. Like Santana’s relationship with her parents? Based shamelessly off my own experience. Brittany’s little sister? Based shamelessly off my own little sister (though my sister is only four years younger than me and, like, half a foot taller than me). The Brittanacedes friendship? Based shamelessly off my own relationship with my best friends.

And some of the tiny throw away lines I write get Too Much research for it lmao. Like, for example, in my last fic, but I can hear my heart pound (and it’s reaching out to you), there’s that part where Santana pays for coffee for herself and Brittany? I looked up the cost of two drinks from Starbucks and calculated the tax so I could say that Santana gave the barista a ten dollar bill. Or I did research on Korean food and what is important for meals so that I could say that Brittany prefers kimchi and rice over potatoes and green beans in another throwaway line. (Speaking of, that came from this article, which was really interesting and where I specifically used the “My parents have always said that if kimchi isn’t served with your rice, it’s not a complete meal.” So. Just in case you wanted to know lmao.) Or I also looked into what programs Tisch has, or where’s a small park where that bench might be even if I don’t know what the view would be like, stuff like that. Like. This comes with what I think my writing style is (imo at least, I could be wrong for how other people see it lmao), which is, like, tiny details to make the scene seem more real? Like there’s that post that’s talking about how hard it is to keeping people moving and in the right spaces? (It’s this post if you’re wondering.) That part has never been hard for me. Dialogue and plot can be difficult for me, but the small things of setting a scene or people moving around has always come easy, so doing Too Much Research into tiny things is just something I’ve Always done because it comes with writing those tiny details.

Now obviously I’m not saying that you have to be an expert in everything to write a fic, that’s obviously not true, but I think as a writer you kind of have to be a jack of all trades; you have to know at least a little bit about what you’re writing. And if you don’t know something? Well if you’re posting fic you obviously have an internet connection and google is right there so look it up! Even if you don’t use it in your fic you just learned something new today!! I’ve googled so many tiny little dumb things. Like, personally I think it’s those tiny things that make a fic more realistic so I try to add as much of those tiny details in as I can, and that means I have do a lot of tiny bits of research.

27. best review you ever got

Okay so there’s actually a couple that I want to mention. First, the Very First Fic I ever posted on my ao3 was a B99 fic back in 2016. I posted it at night and then took an 8am bus back home (which is an hour and a half drive). The morning after I posted it, I got my first comment between leaving res and boarding the bus from a guest reviewer and it was like around 200 words and I can remember everything about it. That was in October of 2016 and to this day it remains my second most commented/kudos-ed and my most bookmarked fic. To this day I can still remember how it felt to read that review on the bus ride home, I can remember the fog over the city, I can still remember the sun rising as we drove through down the valley hill and over the river, I can still remember the frost on the window; I can remember all of this in miniscule perfect detail despite it being two years ago, and it was all because of that one comment.

Now the best reviews I’ve ever got recently is actually in three parts, and they’re from @thewafflewhat​, @hyejeong​, and @kurzelx​, and they’re all on we will learn from each other (as you grow up, I will too), which is the request I filled a couple weeks ago about Maribel and Santana. If you’ve read the other part of my answers to these questions you’ll know why these comments mean so much to me. And the other best review(s) are from zagirlfriends on ao3 (I dunno if they have a Tumblr so I’ll just link their ao3), and I don’t know how many times I’ve looked forward to their thoughts on my seasons series!!

This is what comments and reviews and tags mean to writers!!! That I can still remember everything about that October morning in 2016 when I got my first review. You might not think it, but fic writers remember these things no matter how many reviews they’ve gotten; they remember the ones that make them feel like their writing means something. If you don’t let fic writers know how their fic made you feel, what you liked about it, what your favourite part was, anything, then it feels like we’re shouting into the void and it’s only our own voices reblogging it icymi echoing back at us. Let fic writers know why you like their writing!!! It’s straight up the fastest way to get them to write more!!! I reread those comments and tags from the three people I mentioned above so much, and some days they’re the only reason I keep writing, it’s because knowing that at least the people who comment are looking forward to my writing and that it means something to them.

30. hardest part of writing

Motivation lmao. Like. Sometimes I Want to write, and I Know what I want to write, but I just can’t get the words to come or I feel like I’m actually a bad writer (which is what I feel like more often than not, so lmao) or something so I don’t write. The second hardest part though is feeling like I’m screaming into the abyss sometimes when I post fics, and most times the abyss doesn’t scream back so. Sometimes fic writing can be a pretty thankless undertaking, but for those few comments I do get? Makes it all worth it. 

(Again, with the comments thing. Am I beating this horse to death yet? Probably. Am I going to keep imploring people to comment/tag/review? Definitely. You want your favourite fic writer to write more fic? Tell them what you love about their fics, tell them what they made you feel, tell them your favourite parts, liveblog their fics if that’s what you’re into, but I can pretty much guarantee you that getting those comments will motivate them to produce more content far quicker than “post more” or “update soon” will.)

43. would you ever write a sequel for but I can hear my heart pound (and it’s reaching out to you)

I don’t think I ever would!! Any of the fics that I’ve marked complete or that feel complete (at least to me) I don’t want to touch after that. I probably should have clarified this earlier, but on we are bound to each other’s hearts (this love is like a wildfire), which was the experiment fic, I didn’t actually write the epilogue by popular demand. I had an epilogue planned and outlined before I had even finished the first set of questions; I always intended to write an epilogue for that fic, it wasn’t actually because people we asking for it. I know some writers like to keep writing in verses, but for me there are some fics that when I’m done writing them, I’m done writing them. The first seasons fic (you were the choice I made before I knew what the other choices were), for example, never felt fully finished to me, and as I reached the end I was playing around with the idea of making it a four part series; but it was also my first fic in the fandom and I didn’t even know if the fandom was active, or even if people would like my writing, so it was just a tiny idea at that point. So when I got such a positive reception with that fic I realized it never really felt complete to me because it wasn’t. But for most of my other fics that are marked complete, it’s because they feel complete to me and I don’t intend to keep writing those verses just because I feel obligated to when people ask for more. (And this is not me being snobbish or a dick, this is just me being an artist who knows when to quit lmao. I prefer quality over quantity personally, and that applies to my own fics too.)