#rosie talks writing

[littlerose13writes]

How do you actually finish your fics?? I have soooo many WIPS in progress but I loose all motivation before I finish

Well first of all, I’m sure you enjoyed starting all of the WIPs and even if they were never finished you got something out of them, by which I mean finishing doesn’t have to be the goal of every piece of writing, but also seeing a story through to the end is a brilliant feeling of accomplishment (and of course specifically with fic you’re more likely to share finished work and/or readers of a WIP can read all the way to your intended end if it’s finished)

Honestly, the only advice I can give you is you just have to write! As much as writing, and especially writing fic, is fun and a hobby and an enjoyable thing to do, seeing something through to the end is work and you have to put the work in if you want to finish and share! When you first start a project, it’s exciting and new and all you can think about and unless it’s a shorter piece it’s unlikely you’ll get the whole thing on paper in this lovely honeymoon period so it’s inevitable that you’ll reach a point where it feels like hard work all of a sudden, and that’s when you have to make the effort to keep going and push through, because on the other side is finishing and sharing!

Good luck Anon, you can absolutely do it :)

[marciaillust]

Asterism book cover

[tarjapearce]

OMG Rosie with fangs 😩 would she chomp on mama while she was drinking her milk, ouch 🤕

Just imagined this and damn, my nipples hid lol. Little Rosie is a chomper.

Miguel out of everyone knew the risks that involved into having his children. Complicated births due the baby size that could lead up to a c section, some of his mutations, like his fangs, his eye's color, or even his height.

He was so fearful to know what kind of thing would crawl up to his children's DNA that when Gabi was born, he couldn't be happier cause his little girl looked so normal.

His fears of watching Gabriella grow and constantly checking on her mouth or eyes had triggered a little fight. His insecurities were one of the biggest challenges that you, as a marriage had got through. But your constant reassuring and actions, proved that no matter how your children came, you'd love them all the same.

Just like him.

When Benjamin was born, he wasn't obsessively searching for any anomalies in his baby, but rather enjoyed his time with his son. Being over the moon was little to say when he heard the news from the doctor. He'd finally teach little Benjamin everything that he lacked as a boy.

And now, thirteen years later, he was blessed with another girl. You cried upon knowing that Gabi would have her so longed sister. Your little flower was as healthy as Gabi and Benjamin, and definitely chubbier than Benjamin, thanks to all those cheesesticks with Dulce de leche you had scarfed down.

But there she was, ready for her nightime feeding. Her grunts and fussiness was her own way to urge you to feed her.

A not so quiet 'I'm hungry, Mama".

Gabi usually kneaded your breast softly as she latched on you, Benjamin loved to pull on your nipples with a giggle, or even slap your breast softly before feeding from your milky buffet. Rosie however had developed this amusing yet painful habit to shake her little head while chomping softly on you.

As her four months old approached, so was the itch in her gums. Miguel would design devices that resembled alot your breast, cause once Rosie had been fed, your nipples would be swollen and pained. He knew you suffered.

Yet, it was a sacrifice you were willing to do to see your children healthy.

Rosie had been tugging softly at the now sensitive flesh, her tiny hand bawled ontop of your breast, securing it in place. Your eyes would narrow in pained waves as she interrupted her feeding to sleepily chew on your nipple.

"Don't play with your food, Mi amor."

A little joke that instantly granted you a powerful chomp from her. Tears flooded your eyes immediately as a yelp came out your lips, startling Rosie that bursted into tears.

You heard Miguel's hurried steps rushing to your side and his eyes widened upon seeing you crying while trying to carefully pull Rosie out.

"Hey, hey, it's ok. Let me help"

Alarmed he managed to detach Rosie from you, and his eyes and yours could only widen as soon as your eyes fell on your nipple. Leakin not only with milk, but a faint pink-ish and red hue in it.

Her teething had made her uncomfortable and she wanted to breastfeed almost all day. But this particular bite had been painful enough to make you cry.

"-Salaverga" (Holy shit)

Miguel mumbled while looking into Rosita's mouth. Peeking from her gums, there were two pointy and tiny fangs.

"You ok?"

He looked back at you as you hissed and nursed your injured nipple while wiping the couple of tears that had escaped.

"Y-Yeah... I'm sorry I startled her."

His silence had made you curious as he examined with all the gentleness in the world, Rosie's gums.

A huff of your mouth blew away some strands off as you approached.

"Miguel, I'm not doing this again."

"No no, mi amor. Look. She... Rosita has-"

You gasped, a bit audibly and he tensed.

His little flower had gotten a part of him that brought him so many bad memories, and now they had hurted you.

"Hey, it's ok. Maybe it's time for her to be switched to the bottle."

Your caring hand caressed his shoulder, he melted at the touch and sighed.

"I'll... I'll come up with something."

"Miguel?"

You smooched his cheek and all the worries slumped off his frame.

"I love her, ok? Besides, Gabi once bit me like that. You did too, remember?"

Your soft elbows earned a little chuckle from him.

"Just means we gotta be careful. She's a chomper."

"Will let her bite my fingers then."

His little girl had calmed and clung to him, a little disgruntled by the itch inside her mouth.

"No wonder why she was so fussy."

Miguel rubbed Rosie's back in slow circles, soothing her and putting her to sleep.

"How's the nipple?"

"She punctured it with one of her tiny fangs. I'll be fine."

"Switch her to the bottle. We can't have her injure you again."

A soft whine came from his baby.

"I'll see what I can do, ok?"

Nodding, you went to the bathroom to take a better look at the small injury. He watched his baby, deep asleep on his arms, he then approached her crib and put her inside.

"Only I can play with my food, Mi niña.";

His large fingers massaged her scalp gently before tucking her in her lovingly pink blanket.

"Goodnight mi corazón"

[schmidtsbimbo]

hi! I really enjoyed reading the older bf headcanons for Mike - I was wondering if you could write a fic or hcs of how Mike would try to make it up to the reader after an argument? like angst with hurt/comfort? thanks!

★Mike Schmidt comforting you headcanons★

𖦹 Warnings: slight angst and fluff, GN!Reader no use of pronouns, use of Y/N

⋆｡°‧Requests are open! Comments and reblogs are welcome and appreciated ♡

―୨୧⋆ ˚A/N: this feels so short but its been sitting in my drafts forever im sorry anon☹️ I promise im working on all my other requests and will try to get to them as soon as i can<3 Happy holidays!

This has not been proofread ^_^

Mike Schmidt who almost never gets angry or upset with you. Dealing with Abby has taught him so much and he is oh so patient with you

Mike Schmidt would accidentally lash out at you and instantly regret it as his guilt ridden eyes would land on your hurt expression, making his chest hurt at the sight

Mike Schmidt who would instantly try to make things right and apologize, quickly running towards you before you could leave the room and pulling you into a tight embrace, his hand landing on your lower back as the other is holding the back of your head, his chin resting on your shoulder

Mike Schmidt who would silently and softly sway you side to side as he tries to find the right words to say, he wasn’t the best at apologies but he knew he wouldn’t be able to let this go if he didn’t

Mike Schmidt who plants a kiss on your forehead and leaves his lips there, “I’m sorry, y/n” he’d simply mumble against your skin, “i promise it won’t happen again, ever” he’d continue to mumble, his voice dripping with guilt and shame at the memory of him raising his voice at you

Mike Schmidt who still isn’t able to get over the incident even after you accept his apology and would go above and beyond for you for the rest of the day, not that he doesn’t already do that but now its even more amplified

Mike Schmidt who would offer to cook dinner that night despite how exhausted from work he is, making the occasion extra special by cooking your favorite meal and surprising you with it

Mike Schmidt who would shower you with kisses every chance he got, quite literally kissing you from head to toe and muttering a small “I’m sorry” in between each and every kiss

Mike Schmidt who ends the night with you wrapped up in his arms while you lay in bed, his chin resting on the top of your head as one hand soothingly strokes the back of your head, kissing your forehead every once in a while as you drift off into sleep in his arms

[rosenbergamot]

Everyone is Trans???? (REAL NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)

Grian is the only trans person on Hermitcraft.

He knows this as a complete and utter fact. He’s not lying about this, no matter how much he wishes he was-- and goodness, does he wish he was every damn day of his life. It’s lonely to be the only trans person on a server full of your dearest companions. 

It’s not even a horrible thing. He doesn’t trust them any less, doesn’t love them any less, but he sure is peeved about being surrounded by cis people all the time. When he wants to talk about his hips looking too wide today, or his top surgery scars not sitting right enough for him, or the way he’s so happy he can finally grow something of a beard, or how having long hair has gone from something dysphoric to something euphoric for him-- he just can’t! 

Because they won’t understand! And, sure, of course he can just tell them because they’re his friends and they care about him, but sometimes he doesn’t want to just be cared about. Sometimes he wants to be understood. Sometimes he doesn’t want to have to explain everything, going through the same tiring motions he’s gone over time and time again in his life. 

Can a guy not just want another trans person to complain to? Is it really so hard for that to be his reality? Is it really so much to ask?

He’s having a particularly annoying day today. His stupid jeans aren’t fitting correctly on his hips. Usually he’s not too angry about it. On days where he feels more feminine he likes that he has these hips, revels in the way clothes hug his curves, but right now he’s feeling just about as Man as one possibly could, and it’s making him want to rip apart his clothes because none of them fit right. 

He ends up in a pair of sweatpants that hide enough of himself so that he’s able to leave his base. The day outside is warmer than expected, beautiful and sunny, and he immediately regrets the large sweater and comfy sweatpants he had chosen to wear. The light glints off of the ocean, teasing him with its deep secrets that he will never be able to decipher. 

In the distance he can see the newest addition to Scar’s train-- the big snail that those pesky snails had built. It worries him that they can build things all of a sudden. Still, it’s not like he can do anything about it. You just have to accept that they’re going to do whatever they please and then they’ll tone it down. It seems they like to cause mayhem. He can’t really knock them for that. 

He unhooks Pluto from the post. He runs his hands through his mane, reveling in the coarse feeling. It takes his mind away from his body for a few seconds, lets him be completely and utterly still in a way that he often isn’t. Being so detail oriented and such a perfectionist can be hard on the psyche sometimes, especially when that energy is directed towards your body. 

You might as well roll his boulder and call him Sisyphus because he’s… uh…

He’s having a rough go at it. 

Pluto whinnies as he stops petting him, nudges his hand with his snout. It’s time to go check the shopping district. Maybe do permit things. Ugh. 

The ride is uneventful. He smashes the glass to the permit office with his pickaxe, picks it back up and replaces it so that nobody gets any funny ideas. Don’t want them bothering him or anything of the sorts when he’s here. Having to work is his worst nightmare.

The office is as quiet as it is dark. He sighs so loud it fills up the space. He freshens up the light, makes sure that the sign telling people the door is out of order is in place, and then moves behind the filing cabinets, taking a look at his uniform that sits there.

Usually he likes how it fits. It’s tight, accentuating his flat chest and his curves. He likes it that way. Not today though. 

Today he’ll forgo the outfit. It’s not like anyone is going to come in, anyways.

--

Twenty minutes later and he was very wrong. Someone is digging underneath the building, muttering to themselves, and Grian guesses who it is before he even pops his head in. 

Of course Scar of all people needs help with permits today. He’s always looking for any chance he gets to bother Grian into doing work. He puts down his book, eyes him with an anger that he knows feels inappropriate even for him. Sue him, he’s having a bad day.

“Grian!” Scar’s voice is louder than he remembered. He’s got specks of dirt on his face. 

He shoves his shovel into the dirt, leans on it, falls over a little bit as it teeters, tries to right himself, ends up just knocking the shovel over instead, stands up straight, puts his hands behind his back. Stops. Coughs. Smiles. Continues yapping.

“It’s so lovely to see you here! It’s such a coinkidink that fate would put the both of us here! In the permit office! At the same time! Almost as if we’re destined to meet here and do paperwork together and-- and help me with my permit so that I can actually do something as a zoo keeper…” His voice is quieter at the end. Grian pretends not to hear it. 

“Scar.” He greets flatly. “What do you want?” 

Disregarding his ire, Scar saunters up to him. “Oh, well, nothing too bad, G, nothing at all! I wouldn’t dream of making you work or anything-- um…” He stops suddenly. He opens his mouth. He closes it, looking him up and down. If a visual question mark could appear over a person’s head, it absolutely would in this moment. “You’re not dressed up in your-- your little… office uniform! Your little suit! Where’s your clip-on tie, Grian?”

Ugh. “Office Grian is out of the building today.”

That does not do anything to quell Scar’s confusion. His big ol’ eyes look wet and pathetic as he stares at him. “B-B-B-B-But… how am I supposed to get help with my form if office Grian isn’t here?”

“You’re just gonna have to deal with good ol’ regular Grian today.” 

He loves Scar beyond words-- really, it drains him how much he loves this man-- but today is not the day for him. He can feel his energy departing out of his body already. He was going to try and stick it out for a while today. It looks like plans are changing swiftly.

“Is regular Grian as know-- legible. Knoll… knowledge…” He hums, goes down a different path. “Do you know how to do the form? Because I need some serious help, G.” 

He drags a hand down his face. It’s sweaty. “Office Grian doesn’t even know how to do the form, Scar.” 

“What?!” This is genuine surprise from him. “So you’re tellin’ me that this form is all… all…”

“Bullshit?” He finishes the sentence for him. “Yeah. Pretty much.” His head is starting to hurt. “Ugh. Look, Scar, I’m not feeling good today, so maybe we can leave this for another day?”

The humour drops from Scar’s face. It leaves genuine concern. “Yeah-- I mean, no worries. Of course. Of course! Do you… uh, do you need-- need anything? Want to… talk about it?” 

It’s tentative. An olive branch. Scar is a very kind guy. A genuinely nice person. He thinks he’s perhaps caught him off guard with how open he’s being right now. It leaves him quiet and thoughtful. 

When the smile is off of Scar’s face one can really appreciate the way he looks. It’s not like his smile isn’t beautiful-- because it is, it’s moreso that this stillness is rare for him, moments of calm few and far between his cheesy one-liners and fake grins, and so when one is awarded this sight it feels disarming. 

He often forgets how beautiful Scar is. He thinks about how handsome he is on the daily, a fact which he divulges to nobody but himself, achingly aware of it everytime he sees him. Yet he misses how pretty he is. It makes his heart hurt.  

“Um.” He says as he snaps himself out of his… state. With nothing else to say, he just goes, “okay?” Y’know, like someone who wasn’t just staring deep into their friend’s eyes and remarking on how gorgeous they are. Like a smart and normal person. He grins to try and make it look extra convincing.

Scar’s face immediately screws up into worry. It was not convincing. 

“Ohhhh, god. Who are you and what have you done with Grian? I-I-I-I’m scared! You actually want to talk about it? What kind of sorcery is this?”

The bit of humour grounds him. He snorts. “Scar, don’t make me regret my choice.”

That shocks him into movement. His friend’s head whips around, eyes looking for something. He runs around the office wildly, tripping over his untied shoelaces, ignoring his squawk of “tie your shoes Scar!”, and comes back with two chairs. He sets them down in front of the desk, patting the other one. When Grian doesn’t move he pats it again, more insistent. Finally he acquiesces, leaving the comfort of the desk and sitting across from Scar. 

“So!” His voice is far too cheery. His smile is straining at the edges. He’s out of his element right now, Grian realizes. And it’s because he always has to fight to get these talks out of Grian. It’s like pulling tooth and nail sometimes. And here he is, just ready to… to bare it all. 

Oh, god. He’s going to talk to him. About his problems. And his body. 

He suddenly feels sick.

“I think I may throw up.” 

Scar’s smile falls. “What?” 

He splays his upper body across the desk. His stomach is doing flips. “This. This is going to kill me, Scar. Do you understand?” 

“N-No?” 

“I am going to die a painful death, Scar, and it’s all because you made me talk about my… my feelings!” He makes a throwing up sound. 

“Now you-- you just wait a second, mister!” Scar leans forward so that he can poke him in the shoulder. “I didn’t make you do anything-- in fact you agreed to it! So let me hear it, Gri, or I-I swear I’m gonna… I’m gonna! I’m gonna send those stupid snails back over to you and make them eat your mending book right in front of your eyes!”

He gasps. “You wouldn’t.”

An mhm. A nod. “Ohhh, I would. Don’t you test me now!” 

He’s seen enough fish in the short span they’ve been in this season to know that, in his shock, his mouth is opening and closing like one. It takes all his resolve to not run out of the building and leave this stupid place behind. Sure, Scar may try and follow him, but he’s fast-- surely he can outrun him! It… it wouldn’t be too hard! He can do it!

The energy leaves him in one fell swoop as the silence drags on and Scar only seems to get more worried about him. Finally, he looks away.

“I feel alone…” he bites out. It’s like chewing glass. 

“Oh?” Scar is interested. That’s him telling him to continue. 

The proverbial glass on his tongue and teeth cut up his mouth and bleed the truth out of him. “I have… a particular problem that nobody else on the server can relate to.”

“Is it an avian thing?” He scratches his head. “Y’know, I know that Pearl isn’t exactly an avian herself, but she may be able to help you out. Or-- hey! Jimmy is an avian! We can message him?” 

He’s earnest. So earnest. He grits his teeth. “It’s not. An avian thing.” 

That makes Scar stop. “Is it… is it a them thing?”

Them. Neither of them need to say their names to know. 

“God-- no. No. Thank goodness.” In his stress, he begins to pull at his hair, his wings ruffling. “I just. God. Scar, I can’t believe you don’t know. We’ve spent…” lives together. Lived and died together. Stuck by each other’s sides when no one else would. Hurt each other but mostly just loved each other. “We’ve spent time together.” 

“We sure have! I-- I, uh… I don’t know what you’re talking about, though.” 

“Have you ever looked at me when I’m shirtless?” He just decides to bite the bullet. 

Scar’s jaw drops. His face begins to turn a shade of red he didn’t think was possible. He looks away, fiddling with the brim of his hat. “No, no-- no! No way. Noooo way. Never, G-- never! I would. Never.” 

“Why are you so--? Look, nevermind! Scar, I-I’m different from everyone else and it’s not because of them and it’s not because I’m an avian.”

“You’re gonna have to spell it out for me.” He’s still not looking at him. Did that really embarrass him so much? That… that means many things that he just does not have the brain to dissect right now. 

“I’m not cis.” Is all he can really say. 

It’s so silent you can hear a pin drop. 

“You’re…” Scar’s finger wobbles as he points at him. His jaw is back to being on the fucking floor. 

For a second, Grian thinks he’s just fucked up the entire thing they have going on. Scar is going to leave him. He’s going to hate him and he’s going to tell everyone and it’s going to ruin his life. Poppies and lilacs will mean nothing to them anymore. 

But then Scar starts to smile. He wiggles his fingers, bouncing in his seat. “Ooooh, Grian! Grian, I had no idea! What the heck?” His laugh is a little intense considering the information just given. Dread leaks out of his body and is replaced by confusion. Scar is still laughing. “What the heck?! You mean to tell me we could have been bondin’ even more? How-- how the heck did I not notice that?”

“What…?” His voice cracks. 

Firmly, Scar points at him. “Hold on, how the heck did you not notice this?!” He points to his own chest.

“Scar, what on Earth are you talking about?” 

With little care for much of… anything, really, Scar rips his own shirt open, the buttons flying off and skittering across the floor. He points aggressively at two thick scars underneath his pecs. They pucker at the end, pulling skin taut against his ribs. He’d recognize something like that anywhere. 

It’s Grian’s turn for his jaw to drop. “W-What? You… wait-- what? You… I-- Scar, put your shirt back on!” 

“The shirt is gone, Grian,” he says with faux seriousness. “You’re just gonna have to deal with this right now.”

He’s trying very hard not to stare at Scar’s chest. He is fighting a losing battle. 

“Nevermind that, though-- how the heck did you not notice these scars? They’re gigantic, Grian! Biggest ones I’ve got on my-- my whole… whole area!” He gestures vaguely to his body.

“Your torso?” He sighs. “I don’t know, Scar, I guess I don’t make it a habit to look at your pecs?”

That answer seems to displease him greatly. “Well, I can’t see why not, my pecs are amayzin’.” 

You know what… “Sure, Scar. Sure they are.” 

He beams at him. “You’re welcome to stare at them anytime, Grian!”

His ears are getting warm. Stupid Scar. “It’s nice to know I’m not alone on here.”

To Scar this seems like a joke. He laughs. When Grian doesn’t laugh too, he stops. Stares at him. Squints at him. “You-- you weren’t ever alone, Grian.”

“I didn’t know that you were also trans!” He argues, feeling his back start to rise. 

“No-- no, I mean… jeez, Grian, I don’t think I know a single cis person on this server. In fact, MIster, I thought you were the only one we had-- until now, of course!” 

“What.” 

“Actually I think Skizzy Wizzy is cis! Or-- or maybe he’s not…” He furrows his brows. “Ah, whatever, point is: you’re surrounded by trans people whether you like it or not, mister!”

“Why would I dislike it?” It still doesn’t feel real to him. If he weren’t sitting down he would have to sit down again. As it stands (or sits, he supposes) he just sinks lower into his chair. “I can’t believe this. I’ve been-- I’ve been stewing for years! Wait-- Mumbo?!”

“Yep!” He pops the ‘p’, grinning wildly. It makes Grian start to laugh. That makes Scar start to laugh. In a very sweet moment that turns very sobering very quickly, Scar takes his hand, squeezes it as if he’s squeezing one of those grip testing machines-- ow! “Now you don’t have to hide it, G. Isn’t that amayzin’?” 

The contact makes his head start to spin. “You’re crushing my hand, Scar.”

“Whoops!” He lets go, blushing. “Sorry, sometimes I don’t even know my own strength!” 

“Yeah, yeah… anyways, what was that about you definitely not staring at my chest earlier?”

Scar runs out of the building so fast you would swear he had somewhere to be. 

Which is good enough for Grian, because that means he doesn’t have to put an ounce of work in today! He puts down his ‘Gone Fishin’ sign, repairs the hole left by Scar, and then leaves the building. He feels lighter than he’s ever felt before.

So it turns out he was wrong. He’s never been so glad to be so wrong. 

(read it on ao3 here! <3)

[undescribed1mage]

Shoutout 2 the everythings btw

[bloodynereid]

“Perfect, you can set it- uh Rosie?” Lucy found herself being spun around and into Rosie’s arms. They were swaying in time with the music and she found herself looking at the man in front of her with a questioning look in her eyes.

“This song can’t not be danced to. And you look too beautiful for me not to take this opportunity.” Rosie said as he brought Lucy closer to him, leaning his forehead against hers.

“You need to stop that.”

“What? Saying the truth?”

“Rosie…”

“Nope, not taking requests. You’re stuck with me.”

“Oh God.” Lucy groaned in mock anguish and rested her head on his shoulder, feeling as he tightened his hold on her.

Those Sunlit Kisses coming soon !!

(and by soon i mean a while it's about half done and im at 7.2k)

[letters-to-rosie]

click to read the fic!

[that-fruitier-emo]

Rosie in my plot journal :0

(I forgot what I was gonna write on the sticky note and I needed something to put on it. Now I think just for fun, I'ma just put random HH characters in there for funzies)

[revvethasmythh]

like, I get why people don't like edgelord style characters and find them exhausting, i really do. but I was raised by a style of book that exclusively features edgelord protagonists that intentionally bars them from experiencing a single moment of dignity in their entire lives, and I think that explains why I love them, actually

[rapha-reads]

Me: "I'm going to go to bed early for once, so i can start my week early."

The amazing, spectacular, talented, brilliant @rosyredlipstick: *posts her new Solangelo/PJO fic*

Me: "ah, shit, here we go again."

What an absolutely magnificent story! What a ride, what a thrill. I forgot to breathe so many times, I got chills, I got giggles, I got pterodactyl screeches and gasps and chuckles! It has everything and it is so, so, so very good. 100% definitely recommend, please, read it. And leave Rosy a comment.

[theogonies]

dressrosa/donquixote brothers brainrot incoming

i feel like the reason that a lot of rosi-focused fan content doesn't hit for me is that he's so woobified. like yeah he's definitely the better father figure to law but he also beat kids (even if his intentions were good in a weird shounen logic way lol) and repeatedly retraumatized law out of what was imo an ultimately selfish desire to prove his brother wrong--i genuinely cannot see a way that path would have ended well, even if doflamingo never intervened.

plus in light of doffy's grooming by vergo and trebol et al i think it's a lot more narratively interesting to ask how being raised by the navy would affect rosinante, possibly in a similar way. like we see him die *just* as he's getting a taste of the personal agency that his brother's had for years so we never get to fully see him through the repercussions of his own trauma, but even though from what i understand we don't really *know* whether sengoku raised rosi with the intention of sending him back to the donquixotes as a spy, it does create an interesting contrast where both brothers are being played against each other by outside parties using their respective senses of justice.

not trying to downplay that doflamingo is a fucked up guy who does fucked up things but i think it's weird that so many fics treat him as this utter monster while rosi gets to be, like, a normal dude. and i think that's because we see doffy at his absolute worst while rosi has always been filtered through law's grief and nostalgia. but at the end of the day they're way more interesting to me as narrative foils to each other, brothers who have been manipulated for most of their lives by forces outside of their control. it's not that they don't have agency but their relationship is so deeply defined by the terms of their separation as teenagers and i want to see rosi's side of that period and its consequences explored more.

idkidk not really sure what i'm getting at here i just wish that rosi was more interesting to me than he is lol. i know it's just because he wasn't around for long but imo he has so much untapped potential compared to the rest of the whole doffy/law/rosinante triangle. if you know any good darker/psychological, corazon centric fics please send them my way <3

[tarjapearce]

So.....is there a cartoon or song that the O'Hara kids often watch/listen to that makes their parents want to take the CD away or turn off the internet?

Hehehe 🤭

If there was something Miguel and you regretted was to bring up and old show you used to watch.

You for bringing it up, and Miguel for adding it to Lyla's code so Benjamin and Rosie could watch anytime they wanted.

At first the show, PB & J Otter, was a success for his babies. Benjamin would sit next to Rosie and watch a couple of chapters before either you or Miguel picked them up for a bath and then sleep.

But a month later, whenever This song came up, his eye started twitching.

You knew the song by heart at this point, and sometimes you sang along subconsciously in the most random times of the day.

Benjamin had asked to play it whenever you picked him up from school. Even Gabriella joined for a bit before she started using her earphones with a 'not again' face.

But this one, had him giving Lyla a side eye.

Not that Miguel disliked the song or the show. He just secretly started hating noodles.

Noodle, use your noodle

His jaw tensed when the song echoed in the sound system in the living room.

Even though Rosie's happy screeching was worth the torture, And Benjamin's dance amused him every time, it had to stop.

Noodle, do the noodle dance

And that night you were making noodles. Again.

You in the other hand, secretly asked Lyla to fake an error whenever Benjamin asked for either the intro or The Noodle Song in your car.

"Mama, can I have some noodles for dinner?"

"Sorry, mi amor but if you keep eating them only you'll get constipated and sick."

"And you'll turn into one!." Gabi whispered ominously at him with a spooky grin.

"What? Is that true, Mama?"

Benjamin's concerned voice made you giggle, "No, mi amor. You won't turn into a noodle."

"She just says so cause she don't wanna spook you out. There was a man that ate honey only, and he turned into honey!"

Your brow quirked

"Spooky. Where did you learn that?"

"On class today, we saw some legends and discussed about the Honeyed Man!"

"Wait, it's true?!"

Gabi nodded and Benjamin's eyes turned bleary.

"Benjamin, baby, it's alright!, it's just a legend. But you will do get sick if you only eat pasta."

----

Thanks to Gabi The Noodle song stopped echoing through the living room.

Miguel seemed in a better mood but you loved teasing him. As for the kids they just moved on to another show. Rosie had been more interested in playing with whatever safe texture she could lay her tiny hands on.

With a stretch you got into bed next to him and kissed his shoulders while you rubbed one of his firm glutes.

"Wanna use your noodle, Papa?"

You whispered to his ear with a cracking voice thanks to the laughter and he groaned underneath the pillow.

"Stop", His hands would pull you close while his mouth was already working by leaving a loving trail of kisses in your tender neck, earning him a flurry of sweet giggles as he rested his chin ontop of your breasts.

"Won't use my noodle if you keep laughing."

"Oh my god. This is so bad"

Miguel's shoulders just shook at the silent laughter you provoked him.

"I hate noodles."

"Gabi told Benji he'll turn into one if he kept eating them."

"Remind me to increase her allowance for that."

Your leg hooked onto his waist, as usual and then he kissed you.

"'Nough talk." He removed his shirt and pinned you underneath his frame, "Gotta give you some noodle."

Your teasing had backfired, but in truth you didn't mind. You both loved making love in between laughs.

[hanrinz]

i'm still aliveeeee

[rosenbergamot]

The Sand Permits; or, conversely, Scar and Grian are unable to communicate like normal people

“I don’t like my permits,” Scar says, something unreadable on his face. Grian adjusts his tie, then the papers on his desk., and prepares for another long Scar rant. Whatever it is he’s ranting about this time, Grian’s not sure he can tell, but based on his tone it has to be something difficult for him. “It’s annoying-- it gets in everything! Gets everywhere! I need something else.” 

There’s a loaded quality to that sentence. Grian raises his eyebrow, his hand coming to clutch his pencil as if it can help him through this moment. “What permit do you even have, Scar?”

The answer is something he should have expected from the way Scar is looking at him. The hurt in his eyes. He remembers-- and Grian knows that he remembers, and Scar knows that he knows that he remembers-- but it’s never been brought up before, never been shoved too explicitly in his face. Scar keeps it retained to small comments followed by awkward crooked grins that say nothing. 

“Oh, you know… just sand.” 

Their eyes meet. Scar holds the gaze, as if daring him to say something to him finally-- to acknowledge everything they’ve been through together that he’s only just now remembered. If only Pearl had killed him in Secret Life. Maybe then Grian could have put this off. Oh. Whatever. He’s still going to put it off. Skizz is right there after all.

He studies his nails. “Sand is a pretty good seller, y’know? You’ll have a whole monopoly on it and everything, so I can’t see why you don’t want to go through with it. I thought you liked sand.”

“Sand is useful!” Skizz chirps. 

Neither of them say anything for a second, still staring at one another. Skizz scratches at his head.

“Sand is useful,” Scar agrees easily, his voice strangely flat. “I did like sand. I do like sand. But sand hasn’t been the same ever since it came out of the desert.”

His wings puff up but he keeps his voice level. “Of course sand hasn’t been the same since it left the desert, do you even know what the sand went through in that place?”

“How could I not? I was there! I harvested the sand! I built a home with the sand!” 

The way Scar’s face wrinkles is very reminiscent of Double Life. Grian wants nothing more than to erase that face out of his mind. 

“Maybe the sand didn’t want you to harvest it.” The words are spoken from behind his teeth. His heart is picking up its pace. 

And that gets emotion out of Scar. It’s the same as it was back on Monopoly Mountain, when his eyes were red instead of green, his hands shaking with barely concealed bloodlust. “Maybe the sand shouldn’t have killed me, then!” 

“Maybe the sand shouldn’t have!” He agrees, throwing his hands into the air. Hurt flashes in Scar’s eyes-- as if Grian didn’t just agree with him and his stupid metaphor! He wraps his arm around himself. His voice gets quieter. “Maybe the sand regrets it. Maybe the sand wanted things to be different, wanted to be with you but just didn’t know how. Maybe… maybe the sand just wants things to go back to being normal again.” 

His voice betrays no emotion. He smiles at Grian. “Maybe the sand shouldn’t have broken my heart. Maybe things could be normal then.” 

The pencil in his hand snaps. 

“Scar, you…” His hand is full of snapped graphite. He drops the pencil onto his desk. Being at a loss for words is a feeling that’s foreign to him. It’s rather uncomfortable right now. 

Scar keeps his eyes on him as he tries to formulate a sentence. He gives him longer than he deserves, watching carefully, until finally his smile softens. It makes his stomach drop despite how gentle it is. 

“I’ll see you around, Grian.” He turns, cane in hand, and walks out of his makeshift door. As he leaves, he calls back, “and forget about the permit thing! I’ll figure it out myself.” 

Then he’s gone. And Grian is left to stare at where he just was and wonder what the hell went so wrong. The permit office is silent, still, the only sound and movement coming from himself-- from his shoulders as they heave with his breaths, with his attempts to hold in the tears that suddenly want to fall from his eyes. He can’t cry, though. There’s work to do.

“Um?” Oh. There’s also Skizzleman. He awkwardly shuffles his feet, still holding a file of forms that Scar hadn’t taken with him. “Was that like… was that a thing? Should I have not witnessed that? I don’t think that was about sand.” 

He laughs. It’s hollow. “No, Skizz, I don’t think it was about sand either.” 

read it on ao3 here!!

[ambrosykim]

your loving arms are the true delight

pairing: ambrose kim x f!button (alex wiseman) words; rating: 2,5k; mature (non-explicit sex at the end) summary: alex and ambrose's first time getting intimate a few months into dating a/n: i've been writing this for so long and it's sg really close to my heart so enjoy the nerds being super grossly in love while exploring alex's asexuality

"so, what are your plans then?" nick leans against the doorframe as alex is putting her shoes on.

"oh, i've been meaning to show ambrose this small restaurant--"

"the one with the squid ink pasta?! i thought we agreed on keeping that a family secret!" nick is looking at her as if alex just set one of his ovens on fire - which, for the record, she has done. but only once and he keeps bringing it up even though it's been years.

alex raises her brows in response to her brother, but still says "well, i'm showing it to him anyways. you're not the boss of me," ending the sentence with a mental picture of her sticking her tongue out even if she feels too formal in her outfit to actually do it.

nick rolls his eyes.

"fine, i may just not want the place to get ruined for me by knowing that ambrose kim has set foot in there before," at alex opening her mouth, nick continues. "and i know, 'i need to grow up' i'm trying, okay? it's hard enough to accept that ambrose kim is dating my baby sister."

at this alex once again raises a lone eyebrow and mentally responds to her brother. "-and yes, i know, you're not a baby anymore and i love seeing you happy but it might take me a bit more time to accept ambrose kim as the source of that happiness." as a response alex only leans in to hug nick, who in turn uncrosses his arms to embrace her back.

their moment is interrupted by two sharp knocks on the front door.

he's here.

"speaking of the devil," nick has a slight smirk on his face. "don't let me keep you from your beau." alex gives a slightly annoyed huff at this, but quickly regains her previous cheeriness.

it's hard to be annoyed when a fancily dressed ambrose kim is on the other side of the door, waiting for her. as she's about to open the door, she calls back a quick "don't wait up!" to nick. to this, nick only answers with a wiggle of his eyebrows and an "ooh la la!" which alex quickly tunes out in favour of being able to properly kiss her boyfriend in greeting.

even though it's becoming one of her favourite pastimes, sometimes it still feels odd to be leaning down to kiss rosy- ambrose. despite him reassuring her that the height difference doesn't bother him, alex sometimes still feels overly conscious of the half foot that she's got on ambrose. still, the height difference allows for easy access to his forehead for forehead kisses, which she's getting more and more fascinated with, even though - or especially because - he always grumbles about it, but still allows it.

—

nick's comment only resurfaces in alex's thoughts upon entering ambrose's house after their pleasant restaurant date.

it really was lovely, after their meals they shared some tiramisu and talked about their most cherished books. after a while it evolved into alex ranting about her favourite character, to which ambrose only attentively listened to without any complaints - in fact, he seemed very taken by her enthusiasm. he really is an ideal date, alex must say.

after closing the door, ambrose turns to her.

"would you care for some tea? i've recently bought some strawberry tea and i wanted to get your opinion on it."

"that would be great, thank you," alex is still toeing off her shoes, so she misses the way ambrose softly nods at her as he makes his way into his kitchen.

she suspects that he mainly keeps tea at home for her enjoyment, since she knows ambrose prefers coffee. a bit after they started dating, an electric kettle suddenly appeared in his kitchen which he was very nonchalant about, but alex assumes he most likely bought it for her, since she’s been spending a considerable time at his house in the past months.

it's become a habit to have tea after their dates, which alex absolutely adores.

they sit on his couch - a dreadful cream colour, devoid of personality - and usually read together or play cards. lately ambrose has been teaching her to build a house of cards, but she's not very good at it, usually letting it fall apart with her exhaling laughter.

today, however, alex is suddenly preoccupied with overthinking what nick said - or implied more like - to her, his way of singing out 'ooh la la' ringing in her head.

as ambrose approaches with two mugs of steaming tea - both strawberry, as he has been expanding his tea drinking horizons since starting to date alex - alex snaps out of her trance of overthinking. she takes the mug, cradling it in her hands while ambrose sits down next to her.

noticing alex's motionless state, he starts to gather their books, as if to settle in for a night of quiet reading, but alex knows that he's giving her time to start talking. despite being usually chatty, ambrose knows how hard serious conversations are for her, and he feels that alex is thinking over something heavy. when he has their books - alex keeps a book at ambrose's for nights such as this - he hands the right one to alex.

after taking it - while her focus is still seemingly on the cover of the book - alex starts speaking.

"you know i want to have sex with you, right?" flicking her eyes up at her boyfriend she realises he's staring at her with a blank look. though she hasn't figured out all his expressions yet in their three months of dating, she can feel his shock rippling through the air. "i mean... eventually, you know? not right now but," as she continues speaking, he slowly puts his book down on the coffee table to join their mugs of tea, turning his body towards alex.

when she still doesn't get a reply, she continues. "-but, like soon? i guess? i don't know how soon after starting to date is normal... and you know i haven't had sex before so i'm like, kind of nervous about it. not that i don't trust you, you know i do, i just-" ambrose puts one hand on alex's knee, which immediately shuts her up. she looks up from where she's still staring at the book in her hand, only watching as he plucks it from her grasp and joins their hands together.

"alex, please breathe. i hope you know i'm not expecting anything from you. not now, or ever." despite ambrose keeping his expression neutral, alex can feel the warmth radiating from him.

"i know, i just... don't want you to feel like i'm not attracted to you, or that i'm waiting for you to seduce me or something."

at this, ambrose raises a single eyebrow, as if him 'seducing' anyone - even alex - is ridiculous. to be fair, alex has to keep herself from laughing at the mental image of ambrose throwing himself at her while clad in lingerie. as if reading her mind, ambrose's eyes narrow in alex's direction, but she knows he's determined to continue the conversation. getting over the mental image of ambrose in lingerie, alex continues. "because i am. attracted to you, that is. you know that i've got difficulties with the whole sexual attraction thing, and after a comment nick made, i'm just overthinking everything." she gestures at her head, as if to indicate where exactly her overthinking is happening at the moment.

"plus, i just like having a plan for everything, so maybe let's come up with one for the time we end up having sex?" alex's big eyes bore straight into ambrose's own, and he nods.

"that sounds perfect. i would like to know what you'd be comfortable with doing and what i could do to make it enjoyable for you."

still sitting turned towards each other, alex suddenly tries to hide her face by looking over her shoulder. as ambrose reaches over to cradle her head while gently turning it to face him, he sees tears welling up in alex's eyes.

"i'm sorry. what you said was just so perfect and i just-" ambrose wipes the tears off her face with his thumbs and leans up to slowly kiss alex's forehead.

"we will have a detailed discussion later, about what you're fine with and what i should avoid doing," as he says that, he continues to hold alex's face in his hands, looking deeply into her eyes.

alex opens her mouth, to which ambrose lowly chuckles before speaking.

"i know, you like to have a plan for everything, which is why, in this conversation, we will also include a detailed schedule for our first time, all right?" to this, alex only nods, while letting out a watery chuckle that sounds eerily similar to a sob.

"thank you. weird how the tables turned in this conversation huh? look at you, doing most of the talking," and with that, alex is back to being her usual self, only the subtle shining of tears in her eyes indicating that the past few minutes actually happened.

while glad that his girlfriend is seemingly returning to herself, ambrose stares into her eyes, as if looking for a confirmation that she really is all right. after finding what he’s looking for in alex’s gaze, he nods to himself, finishing his inspection with a peck to her cheek.

her eyes crinkling with joy at this, she chases his mouth to capture it in a proper kiss which he eagerly responds to, while not letting it become anything more. with that, she reaches to get their reading off the coffee table. she hands ambrose one of the books as she settles down on the couch, leaning into the side of her boyfriend for an evening of quiet relaxation, shelving this conversation for later.

—

in the end, after some thorough discussion, they came up with a plan they were both comfortable with. ambrose made sure to talk through exactly what touch alex would be fine with, even though they agreed that he would be physically removed for most of their first time.

alex has never done anything like this before and she is nervous. she is currently laying on the bed against the headboard, still talking to ambrose who’s just coming in from the other room.

even though she's gotten used to ambrose's attention being focused on her, this is something entirely new, and she knows he’s noticed her slight tension. she can feel his gaze on her as she gets comfy on the bed, while he sits in the chair that’s been brought in for him from the kitchen.

she proposed to let him on the bed with her but ambrose insisted that the chair would offer him a better view - to which alex blushed a deep pink, and ambrose only answered by clearing his throat.

now, she's leaning against the headboard - which is firm under her head, grounding her - with most of her clothes gone.

ambrose was meticulous in removing her clothes, while also not making her feel overwhelmed in the process. he made sure she was comfortable with his actions by dizzying her with kisses, which made her both more eager and more compliant with him. still, he didn’t overdo it, and was very precise in which part of her body he touched.

(god, alex loves him so much.)

after she has been properly riled up through the slow undressing and kissing process - which took around half an hour not that she was timing it - she is now laying against the headboard in only her bralette and an unbuttoned shirt, making eye contact with ambrose.

he's sitting with his arms crossed, only dressed in his black joggers - and looking very enticing if alex can say so herself.

maintaining eye contact, she slowly moves her hands down her body, stopping at her center. she doesn't know what to do with her other hand, so she slides that over her breast, more out of comfort than any stimulation.

she's hyperaware of her lover's intense stare, and though he hasn't changed his position since sitting down, alex knows he's affected just by how hard he’s clutching his crossed arms. still, today is not about his pleasure, but about getting to know alex and her comfort levels with intimacy and sex, and he knows that. his eyes suddenly jump from alex's own, to where she just started touching herself.

she still feels a bit nervous, but just looking at ambrose and his lips pressed together from concentration - and from how much he's affected by her - helps. shifting her focus to his arms - still crossed, muscles bulging from how hard he's holding himself back - she feels herself getting more and more wet. she's also just as affected by him as he is by her, her quiet breathy whimpers filling the silence of the room.

just then – maybe after hearing her - with eyes flicking to hers, ambrose stands up and makes his way to the foot of the bed.

he does so as slowly as he can, giving alex time to adjust to his proximity. as he sinks down to the bed, alex nudges him with her leg, giving him permission to touch her. he slowly snakes his hands onto her calves, tightly holding on, his eyes still boring into hers.

alex flits her gaze down to concentrate on where his hands are grabbing her skin, looking intently at his hands – she’s always loved his hands, strong and sturdy - as she continues rubbing herself, getting close. she's nearly willing him to move closer, but he's keeping a respectful distance, though he slowly starts stroking her legs.

she could come by only the way he looks at her. it's as if he wants to devour her whole, yet still so full of tender love.

as she's getting close, she detaches her hands from her body to make grabby hands to her boyfriend, who complies with a slight smirk on his face, coming to cage her thighs with his muscular ones, careful to not put his weight on her. he gently but firmly grabs alex's face, kissing her deeply but still keeping his eyes open, as if not wanting to miss a single moment of what's happening.

as he envelops alex with his frame – keeping a small distance between their bodies - she reaches down to continue rubbing herself where she left off. as a response, ambrose grips her waist with one hand and slowly holds her breast with the other, swiping his thumb over her nipple, making alex's voice hitch as she comes.

at this, ambrose detaches his mouth from alex's, wanting to be able to watch his partner come. afterwards, alex reaches up to kiss him, conveying all her love towards him, smiling into the kiss.

as ambrose lays down next to her, she turns to him, snuggling in close to him.

ambrose huffs a small laugh but accepts his fate, knowing that he can’t escape from alex’s need from cuddles.