#wrote like 3k+ words today which is more than this entire month

[uchihaharlot]

CEO! AU Where their employee is too naive about innuendo 😅

Too pure and these guys wreck her during a personal "meeting" in their office.

(Separate scenarios please 🙏)

Me dearest moot,

I apologize this took me so long. 😅 I find it hard to write ooc scenes, but then again everything written outside the Narutoverse is considered ooc. So I just rolled with it, didn’t feel it at first. Sat on it, went back edited it — added more and hopefully the outcome is to your standards.

I truly am committed to writing almost any ask that is sent my way.

I do apologize, this got lengthy. I cannot not write anything less than 3k it seems when in the mood. Lmao. I give you smut with minor plot, because I love a bit of backstory and I adore characters that have a familiarity between them or some fluffy shit like that.

(When I wrote this, I was not aware of your preference for Itachi at the time. Shisui CEO was already in the works. Honestly am not entirely convinced this is good. I would be willing to do Itachi in a separate ask, I just didn’t want this to be like 15k of figuring my shit out).

NSFW; airhead-ish intern; smut w/plot; praise kink; oral; vaginal; unprofessional work environment; sex at work; Enjoy!

wc: an exorbitant fucking 3.4k; fuck and I’m not editing it much more right now. Will go back, I just felt like the worlds biggest piece of shit for taking so long lol

As fresh blood in the world of accounting, credentials meant everything. Especially if you want roll with the big boys. Which is why when accepting an internship nearly six months ago from the most prestigious accounting firm, you didn’t hesitate to accept. It would look good on your resume and if lucky enough, you’d be offered a job and avoid the hassle of sending out hundreds of applications.

So far things have been mild and mundane.

Coffee this, tea that. Dry cleaning. You hardly even made an appearance into the conference room except on few occasions.

Today was one of those days your presence was requested. Shisui Uchiha, CEO, owner and founder of Tomoe LLC. An accounting firm for high profiled clients.

Yea, your designated boss was that guy.

The one who made tabloids left and right with his fuck you money and all. The guy who probably had every woman in the office, including yourself, humid and longing. Didn’t even have to try, and there was no lying. How unfortunate you had the hots for him. Regardless of your stance, you retained the upmost professionalism in his presence.

When Shisui walks into the conference room, all eyes are on him. Composed, clean cut and admirable. As an intern your job is to take minute notes, jot ideas he spouts off and anything of importance. At the end of his hour and a half long ramble. Everyone is dismissed.

‘Except you.’ Words you didn’t really expect, but nonetheless did as you were told.

Once the room is cleared, Shisui’s gaze catches yours. Sharp and observant, you felt under the microscope of his heavy dark eyed gaze. ‘I need your help on something.’

Which was great, usually.

This is what you’re here for. If it was coffee, you’d fetch it. If it was picking his dog up from the groomers, that too. You got to use his shiny new car, which was a treat. He made sure you knew nobody before you had that privilege.

‘I’m listening, Uchiha-san.’ Submissive and severely cute as you retained his attention. Even if unintentional, it made his eyes flicker whenever you called him that and he straightened up a bit. A smug grin on his face.

Ever the good girl.

Shisui taps at your laptop, quickly you open its notebook app, ready to record his thoughts. ‘I want you to draft your own document on project of your choosing. Consider it a ‘review.’ How can you make this company grow?’

Oh, it was one of those reviews. The preliminary ‘give me your thoughts and maybe you can have a job’ situation. He continues, ‘on one condition… meet me in my office after work. And we’ll discuss it more personally.’

‘Anything specific I should focus on?’ It wasn’t confusing, but you had the sense there was something particular he was looking for.

He smiles and gazes over you. Shisui always said he appreciated your tenacity and go-getter attitude. ‘Just whatever comes to mind; nothing too serious…..when you write this document, just remember it's for me. It should be tailored to suggestions you think I would….be interested in.’

‘Right, for you…for the company.’ You sheepishly smile back. Why was the room hot, why did your stomach disappear and leave you feeling sick almost. Not in a terrible way, but well….no. He’s your damned boss!!

‘Good girl.’ Something crawled up your spine when he said those words. Your body treasonously gushed, and it was hard not to flush warm in the cheeks. ‘Make sure to send this off before you stop by my office. It would be…beneficial for me to know before we further discuss this in a personal setting.’

A personal setting. After work.

You weren’t stupid by any means, part of you truly believed your boss was hitting on you and the other half was partial to the fact Shisui just knew how to get what he wanted. So, for the last few hours of your day, you focused on real issues within the company. You didn’t want to insult him, but there were things that could improve the numbers and have an impact. Small minute details you picked up the last few months. The document was sent off the last half hour of the day before you walked down to the elevator and took it three floors up to where the higher-ranking individuals in the company were stationed.

Maybe you could be up here. Maybe your ideas would actually mean something. A small smile spreads your face before you knock on his office door.

When Shisui opens the door, he immediately steps aside and motions for you to enter. That’s good sign, right? His gaze lingers as you take in the office that you see maybe three times a month. Your actual duties are handed down to the secretary on your floor directly from him.

A soft click of the door closing has your nerves striking flint at one another.

‘I like how you took this assignment so seriously….’ Taking a seat at his desk, hands folded together. He takes her in.

‘You’re not offended?’ Of course not! The numbers didn’t lie, you had found a hole in his company’s bottomline. Money was being filtered out. If anything, he was grateful you did this so thoroughly.

Shisui’s eyes seem almost piercing, ‘I’m not offended at all. In fact, it’s impressive. Very impressive….now exactly how did you figure this out?’

Oh, that was a toughie. It was by accident, really, you explain. Within the first few weeks of your internship, you were granted access to classified information. Unsure if this was even allowed, you figured that if a potential job was to be had. You needed to know the numbers. Unfortunately for Shisui, undoubtedly, someone was stealing money from him. He had his suspicions prior to your upheaval, but no real way of confirming without causing the perpetrator to become aware. Aside from that it was intricately encrypted, meaning you were incapable of providing further details of who.

Shisui eyes you the whole time, his unwavering gaze felt unkind almost, but sincere. ‘So, you were just casually going through the inflow and outflow. Just so happen to discover…. money missing?’

You exhale heavily, this sounded like it could backfire. ‘Y-yes. I’m sorry if that was a breach of my contract, I figured if I was granted access—’

Shisui’s light chuckle interrupts you, a sort of calm, almost relieved feeling washes down your nerves. ‘You’re fine, I admire your determination and commitment to this company. It seems I can’t trust everyone here…’

‘I suggest, if you’re open to it…. calling tech support, they might be able…’ the words hit your face from the floor. Someone in tech support would be the perfect position to lay low and hide or dispose of backlogs. Shisui quirks an eyebrow at your acute observation. ‘Tech support would be able to see behind all of that.’

At first, he is surprised, then perturbed. Tech support would be capable of seeing behind the encryption or worse. Creating it. Leaning back in his chair, he folds his hands under to his chin. ‘A smart observation….that is….unfortunate. For them, if so.’ A hint of admiration in his voice has you smiling at his praise.

Shisui can’t help but stare at you for a moment. That smile is adorable, even more when you’re not completely flustered by him. When you’re almost comfortable in his presence. ‘You’re a very sharp girl…and you have a good grasp of this business despite being just an intern….’

‘It’s nothing….really. I was just…trying to get on top of the game.’ A soft shrug is all you manage. What else could you say? Now wasn’t the time to toot your own horn.

Shisui leans forward in his chair. He can't help but notice you’re a still bit shy, reserved and overtly quiet in his presence. More times often than not are you loud and boisterous with the friends you’ve made here. Something lurches in the back of his mind; his tone of voice softens.

‘I’d like to commend you for your efforts. You’ve outdone yourself and even figured out someone is potentially funneling money from me.’ He pauses briefly, ‘just out of curiosity though….why did you accept this internship?’

The harsh truth resurfaced with a prejudice. You were bitter the first few weeks, though you were grateful for this opportunity here. Not a word back from a single firm within the five great nations when you sought them out. It was nearly a month later after you had sent out the portfolio did Shisui’s firm respond. ‘You were the only firm to return interest and extend an offer.’

This was not something Shisui expected to hear. It disheartened him and left a foul taste in his mouth. Surely other firms would have been interested. He hadn’t sent a reply as quickly beforehand. Thinking you would take an opportunity in another country. Most people wanted to leave their home cities; he responded solely on the fact he was too eager in his selection for you. The portfolio, while small, was exceptional. Organized and precise. His stubbornness made him hold off but the business side of him does what’s best for itself.

He had to have you, to see the woman behind the mind. Even if you weren’t the spectacular woman before him, he still would have hired you. He wasn’t discriminatory in that matter, only if you would be beneficial to the firm. He knew from the initial interview that you would be, it was just a bonus that you were drop dead gorgeous.

‘No other company reached out?’ The irritation in his voice was severe and brought blasphemy in his eyes.

The hardened look on his face softens once more as you continue, ‘I was shocked to receive your extension to interview.’

Another unexpected answer. Shisui didn’t expect that the other internships went unanswered, but he never once turned down the free labor hours of an internship. There wasn’t a damn thing that made you unworthy of a position here. Intelligent, well calculated….submissive. You did every thing he threw at you from silly errands he couldn’t be fucked with, to listening to him bitch about Genma’s vacation in the Land of Tea being two weeks.

‘So here I am. Almost the six month review. I was hoping that this recent development would…be a retainer for a full time position…’ the words taper off. Hearing how silly you were.

Scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours was not at the forefront of your mind.

But it was his and, well, the funny thing is. Shisui’s back, is on his cock. That’s exactly the kind of back scratching he was referring to earlier when he asked for you to come up with a minor presentation for him. He figured this one wouldn’t fly over the crows nest, but it had. You didn’t quiet catch his intentions.

He would just have to be more…direct.

A small smile spreads his face, the fact that you were just so bashful with your request. Shisui rounds his desk quickly, his hands at your forearms. Sights sharp with intent. Deep baritone grows soft when he addresses you, ‘consider me impressed.’

You quickly dial in at his hands holding you so, so intimately. ‘Why?’ Is that really all you can manage? Though you didn’t understand, ‘why do I impress you? I did something that someone else should have been doing.’ Your brows pinch.

Shisui doesn’t answer right away, he takes the time to consider you. He thumbs small circles on your left arm, as if he is trying to properly convey the words of adoration without scaring you off. ‘You’re right, I should have someone doing this. I am just impressed you were that person when it should have been someone more experienced in this company.’

‘But…?’ Waiting for it. For the let down of not having a position here.

Shisui runs a hand through his hair, the other still on your left arm, ‘this is the first time I’ve ever thought about extending a full-time position to an intern in awhile. But…from now on, you will not be an intern…’ a pregnant pause makes the air thick and stale for a moment. ‘You’ll be my assistant.’

‘Assistant?’ That wasn’t working with numbers, ‘that’s not…numbers or anything close to it…’

Shisui’s laugh fills his chest and reverberates in his throat stopping at a light hum, the grip on your forearm tightens a little to capture your undivided attention wholly. ‘Do not worry. I never said that you would stop working with numbers. That will still be part of your position here. But, moreover, I want your input on other aspects of this company. Marketing, communication, etc. a more….intimate experience at my side.’

You gawk. ‘How can you consider that from a near bare portfolio. I surely haven’t worked my weight in ryo here, not even close.’

In this moment, you look adorable to Shisui. Exasperated and uncertain. Almost undeserving. ‘You’re forgetting exactly why I chose you for the internship. I knew from the moment I interviewed you that you were a very sharp young lady. My trust in your abilities has grown exponentially these past few months, and hence…this new position for you.’

A soft click of your tongue, it was all coming full circle now. ‘This sounds like a curated position that was just made up.’

Shisui’s lips curl into a devious smile, that slips below subtle smirk. He narrows his eyes a bit, those eyes ever intense and drinking you up like the finest whiskey. That calm and composed side of Shisui is replaced by a commanding and dominant presence. Unholy even.

‘Uchiha-san?’ A sharp exhale as Shisui snakes a hand around her waist.

He brings you flush to his chest, running a hand through your hair. Drags his nose along your jaw and up to your cheek before his lips stop at your ear. Hot and raspy, Shisui’s intentions are more than clear. You notice how tall he really is, just towering over you. How much older he is too.

‘What…are you doing?’ A whispered hiss of astonishment at his direct approach.

‘What do you think I am dong?’ Sweet like honey, his voice is deep. Commanding. Possessive.

‘I’m partial to believe this is not in my job description….’ Your soft breath fans the his cheek as he rakes a hand up the nape of your neck.

‘I never suggested it was….’ The words send shivers down your spine, his thumb traces down your cheekbone. His warm breath smells sweet, you know this is not appropriate. Against policy. And as much as you’d hate to admit it.

You enjoyed it. ‘Then what is this for?’

You graze your nose in return over his cheek, the boldness amuses Shisui. How much did you like this? ‘This is part of the perks that come with your new job. If you haven’t noticed by now… I tend to enjoy your company.’

Well no, you didn’t notice. Not until now, ‘no, how could I when I’m hardly doing as an intern should?’ That was cute.

The small moan from your lips is even more adorable as Shisui dragged his lips down your neck. Delirium filled your head space, this was moving too fast. Before you knew it your tight pencil skirt was shucked to above your hips and you were laid on his desk.

Subservient to his desire, fueled by your own deplorable greed within. You could just let Shisui have his way with you, not that you saw it this way. Sex was currency, was also free and felt fucking good. The part of you that may or may not have fantasized this exact scenario unfolding was in charge now.

Spread out, legs over his shoulders holding his head in a vice squeeze. How did it get far this fast? Nose in your heat, lapping and twirling his tongue over your clit. Fingers curling in the confines of your taut muscles. Muscles that ached for it; were drenched for him. If your knocked a few things off his desk, Shisui would forgive you. This was the reason why he’d drawn you in after hours, the sounds you made were no less than a few doors in range: if anyone was still here after hours. They’d hear and pretend they didn’t the next day.

When his cock stretched you, molded you to him. He reamed a hand around your neck and pressed your back into the keyboard. Every time you came close to coming, he squeezed and stopped thrusting. Making you writhe and submit further to him.

‘..please.’ Your desperate whimper.

‘Please..what?’

Those soft eyes of yours caught his attention, ‘..please let me come Uchiha-san.’

He kissed you sweetly, but fucked you like an office whore as you came all over him. ‘Such a good girl…’ rang your ears every so often as he softly panted out between thrusts. Shisui flipped you to your stomach once you succumbed to his relentless pounding. Wrung his hand in your hair and craned your neck back to expose the delicate flesh. Nipping your pulse point, he sheath himself once more. Slower, needier. On the verge of filling your sweet hole with his genetic markup. Gripping your waist to steady your body, he whispered many things of promise if you accepted his job offer.

His bed, car and money. What on earth had gotten into this man? Shisui couldn’t figure out for himself exactly what he was saying either, but it was all forgotten the split second your salacious whimper and saying you were coming again. Had his hips steam rolling and slamming into you harder. Pumping his thinking length as he coated your insides. Holding your back to his chest as you both moaned out loud.

Surely, this was unprofessional. The entire time you fixed your clothes, you expected him to rescind his decision. That didn’t happen. Not when he fixed his tie, adjusted your skirt and covered you with his coat. Not once did his resolve change as you both walked out the dark office and got out of the elevator. He took you to dinner, paid an extraordinary amount of money for too little food and ushered you home. Opened your door and lead you by the small of your back to your front door and gave you a chaste kiss.

‘See you in the morning, ill be here at 6:30am’ It was fully decided by now that you did have a a full time position now, and he handed you a check for the firsts three months salary, and then some that had your head spinning.

‘This is unnecessary..’ It was money that you’d only ever seen on paper, let alone now held in your hands.

‘Consider it a bonus, and a reward.’ Shisui lifted your chin, and kissed your cheek.

You watched as he waited for you to go inside of your apartment, then he left.

[coraxaviary]

i feel like writing WWII show fanfiction is actually my bootcamp for other fandoms. Every time I go write in another fandom, the lack of research I do in comparison is such a relief. When I fall back into my historical fiction narrative, I'm actually reading nonfiction history books and combing through badly managed websites that are probably digitized war records. just the other day i tried to find one specific plane crash in the month of 1942 on an airfield that went defunct due to that one incident. I found it. i tasted victory. The things i do for fandom.

[sunnysunoo]

Love Letters ; Sim Jake

Pairing: Jake X Reader

warnings: explicit language and cursing

word count: 3k words

genre: friends to lovers au! fluff with tiny pieces of crack lmao

Jake was always known for being this perfect guy in school. I mean, they're not wrong. They always described him as if he's this walking piece of art in the hallways. People would stop to just stare at him. You'd stare at him all day too, but you set priorities first: writing him love letters.

You're no Lara Jean, but I guess you can say that she's what inspired you to write Jake letters. Who needs Peter Kavinsky when Jake Shim exists anyways?

note: Not me completely disappearing off of tumblr for like months and then showing up again suddenly lol. I got really busy the past few months since I was completing requirements for school, and I really didn't have the motivation to do anything at the time so I took so time off to take care of myself first so I hope you understand :) But now since it's summer break, I am given at least 2 more months until I go back to school in August :)) Here's the long-awaited Jake imagine that I completely forgot about lmao hope you enjoy <3

P.S I finished writing this at 1:26 am so please excuse the really shitty plot and grammar ill rewrite it once i wake up

tag list: @cha-raena ( sorry for the rlly late post bestie )

Dear Jake, First of all, I will never call you Jaeyun because calling you by your English name makes me feel like I'm your friend. Calling you by your Korean name makes us feel like we're cold strangers to one another and I don't want that. I want us to be something more than that, but it's hard when you don't even know who I am. I'm surprised how you don't grow tired of me just dropping letters right into your locker every time you open it, and that's one of the things I love about you. You don't just throw away people's efforts and you treasure them with care. It makes my heart beat so fast as if I ran miles away from here.

We're already one year left until we graduate high school, and I don't want to end my high school years without you realizing my feelings for you. I know for sure that you would never reciprocate the feelings that I have towards you, so I want to treat this as closure in case we do forget about each other in the future. Yours truly,

Moon

__

"How is this person not over you? That's like the tenth one this month," Jay said, looking over Jake as he reads the letter from his secret admirer. Jake has always been receiving these letters from the same person everyday for the past four months. He's thankful for the letters because they definitely make his day better, knowing that there's someone out there who loves him as who he is regardless of looks. He's not gonna lie that these little notes and letters make his heart race too. "Do you have any plans with finding the person behind the letters?" Jay asked as he watches his best friend trying to hide the small smile that's been growing. No one really knows who this mysterious person is and why they decided to name themselves the moon, but we don't judge anyone in here. If they want to be the moon in their next life, then so be it. "I really want to find the person who's making these letters," Jake shoved the letter in his backpack, trying to not wrinkle it. "But I don't know where to start." "Who's finding who?" A voice popped suddenly beside the presence of the two boys. You leaned beside the locker beside Jake's, watching him as he grabs his books from his locker. "Did Moon drop your daily letter today again?" "They did as usual," Jake wasn't even surprised. He would expect the letters every time he enters the school in the morning. He would open his locker to see the usual small letter placed inside his locker. He usually arrives at seven or earlier, but he's surprised that he could never even catch a glance of this anonymous sender around the campus. "Should I go to school at five in the morning?" "Five in the morning? Isn't that a bit too early?" You questioned, followed by a shaky breath. "The school doesn't even open until six." "I could just walk to that nearby convenience store I always pass by to grab a coffee." He argues, closing his locker shut before walking towards his classroom.

You and Jay followed beside him, and you sneered under your breath, "You don't even wake up to your alarm clock."

"Why don't you even want me to go early anyway?" He glances as you try to give him an answer. But before you could say something, Jay replies first.

"You’re probably hiding something." He said. You rolled your eyes and narrowed your eyes at him. "You are so weird." You grunted, before walking ahead of them. You feel panicked because you were scared that you made yourself obvious to them.

__

You were inside your classroom sitting on your desk. There were only fifteen minutes left before lunch, but you had eaten your packed meal before instead of going to your school cafeteria. You were fidgeting in your place, conflicted about Jake finding his secret admirer, not knowing that it was you who's been sending him letters the past few months. You're not scared of him finding out that the letters were from you; that was the entire reason why you wrote him letters in the first place. You're scared of how he was gonna confront you about it. Would he like you back? Would he hate you? Would he avoid you?

Your mind was full of scenarios but you were suddenly brought back to reality when a hand planted itself on your desk. You look up and saw Jay standing in front of you, eating sushi with his other hand. His face kinda looks like he knows something, and it's freaking you out a bit.

"What?" You asked, suddenly flustered over how his eyes stared right into you. He took the seat in front of your desk and flipped it so it was facing you. He sat down and blurted the phrase that you were dreading to hear from anyone.

"So, you like Jake?"

You suddenly feel like punching him in the face with his sushi.

"What??" Your body felt like, and you were left a nervous mess. Your heart like it was going to pump right out of your chest any minute, and your hands started to sweat.

Jay's mouth formed into a smirk. He caught you. "Jake may be a bit oblivious, but I can totally see right through you."

“Haha...no you don’t,” You tried to deny, but it was all useless when his expression looked unconvinced.

“Oh yeah? Then why are you all red? You look like a bursting tomato.”

“You don’t know that," You leaned further into your seat, playing with the strings of your hoodie.

“C’mon Y/N, you’re not even trying. Just give up and admit it,” Jay was trying to help you confess your feelings for Jake. Frankly, he knew it was you sending him letters this whole time—how can Jake not see it?

With a heavy sigh, you slumped and laid your head on your desk, embarrassed. “Fine. I like him, okay? Are you happy now?”

The smirk on his face grew wider, feeling proud of himself. You are not dealing with his annoying crap this early in the morning. He grinned and munched on his half-eaten sushi. “I knew it.”

“Congratulations,” It was muffled because you hid your red face away from him. All that was on your mind now was how you could book yourself a flight all the way across the world.

“But seriously, since when did you have a crush on him?” You raised your head to face him, giving him a look that could kill, except Jay finds it entertaining rather than intimidating.

“I started having a crush on him when we were in fifth grade. It was at a friend's birthday party, and he saw me being all quiet and lonely. Honestly, I forgot who’s birthday that was.” You told him the very first time you had discovered feelings.

“He saw how sad I looked so he accompanied me the whole time. He was even trying to feel more included in the games and stuff.” You felt a smile ghosting on your lips as you can still vividly remember how you felt your heart tug the first time. “It was kinda like I fell in love at first sight.”

Jay faked a gag, so you lightly punched him in the shoulder. He may be a bit of an asshole, but he’s one the most caring and kind people you’ve ever met. It honestly felt good spilling out your feelings about Jake to him.

Speaking of, Jake was watching you two play around and laugh at Jay's little jokes from outside, and he felt something burning from inside him. Was it that he felt jealous of you and Jay?

No, he can’t be...right?

Maybe it was because of how he felt separated from you and Jay because of him being a separate class.

Yeah, maybe it's because of that.

__

Dear Jake,

I just had the most bizarre day today, and I felt like telling you about it.

It was chemistry period, and we had to be partnered with someone for a lab project. I ended up getting paired with Yeojin. We kinda created this unexpected friendship, which I love. We would crack jokes at each other, tell funny stories, it was so fun to be with her that we had completely forgotten about our project. So now, we both got a detention slip for making an accidental explosion.

How about you? How was your day? I hope it was just as fun as mine. If you feel like the day just wasn't as happy or you're feeling down, just now that it's okay to feel that way because days like these just lasts for 24 hours. It will be all over before you know it and you'll be greeted by another day. Maybe it will be different, and you would be all happy again just like how my day went. Maybe being with you would be my happiest day yet, and I couldn't wait for that day to come. See you soon :)

Love,

Moon

__

"Yeojin!" Jake called, seeing her walk down the opposite way. "Hey, mind if I ask you something?"

"Hey Jake," She greeted him with a smile. "Sure, go ahead."

"Could you perhaps give me any information about your partner in Chemistry?" He had hopes of getting any kind of description about his mysterious sender, but he was instead given a sad frown on Yeojin's face.

"Sorry Jake, but that person told me not to tell you about their information." She gave an apologetic smile. "I wish you all the best in finding them!"

Jake muttered a small "okay," and sighed before walking away, feeling defeated.

Yeojin knew that he was gonna ask about Moon the moment he called her from across the hall. She couldn't wait to tell you about this.

__

"Hey Y/N," A voice said from behind. You turned around to see Jake with his backup hung on his shoulder. He brought his hand up and raked his hair, and you felt your face grow red. Jake is like a gift from the gods. How can someone look so ethereal even if they're just standing there? You could stare at him all day. You couldn't even understand a thing he said until he started waving his hands in front of you.

"Hello?" You blinked multiple times as you were brought back out to reality. You saw Jake's face grow into concern. "Are you okay? spaced out."

"O-oh..No, I'm completely fine." You reassured him, feeling embarrassed. "What were you saying again?"

"I was asking you if you wanted to go to school with me early tomorrow."

Well, shit.

Your eyes started to go wide, and your hands started to go clammy.

"Tomorrow?" You repeated, voice trembling.

'Well, yeah." He pouted his lips, and you felt like melting into a small puddle in your place. Your heart started to pound heavily.

Oh my fucking god, he is so adorable.

"Okay, sure I can go with you tomorrow," You weakly smiled at him, slightly tense.

How we're you going to give him the letter now?

__

"Good Morning," Jake said as he watches you close the gates of your house. It was past five in the morning, and you were a mess.

"Morning," You replied back before running your fingers through your hair, getting rid of any flyaways.

As you started walking your way to the bus stop, Jake kept on glancing towards you from time to time. He knew you were pretty, but since when did you become really beautiful in his eyes?

The walk was pretty quiet, but it was a comfortable silence. For him, mostly.

Meanwhile, you couldn't stop freaking out. You had written a letter the night before, but you don't know how you were going to slip it into his locker without him taking notice. If he saw you, he would know.

"Are you sure you're okay? You've been like this since yesterday," Jake blurted. You looked at him before heaving a sigh.

"It's nothing," You mouthed, suddenly feeling anxious and gloomy.

"Something on your mind?"

"Something like that." It was hopeless. I guess he would have to miss this letter today. It was the first time you skipped a day, and you're feeling guilty that you would have to see Jake's face sadden that he wouldn't receive it today.

As you two stop at the bus stop, Jake looked slightly panicked as he was rummaging through the pockets of his blazer before looking through his bag. "Hey, do you have an extra pen? I left mine at home and I have a quiz today."

You snickered, "Out of all the days, Sim Jake. The same day you have a quiz is the same day you forget your pen."

"Very funny." He scoffed.

As you unzipped your bag to grab your pencil case, a folded piece of paper fell out without you realizing it. When Jake went to pick it up, he notices that it was folded the same way as the letters in his locker. It looked so identical.

Once you already got your pencil case out, you were about to hand it to him when you saw what he was holding that made your body freeze with your hand holding the case in the air.

"Why were one of my letters inside your bag?" He glanced at you, waiting for you to reply.

If you were freaking out before, this is a whole other thing. The thing that you were fearing the most is happening right before you.

"Maybe it fell into my bag yesterday..." You stammered, making up an excuse to look like it was an accident. You were tightly holding onto your pencil case, chanting many curse words in your head as you watch Jake unfold the letter.

"I don't think I've received this one yet," He said before he opened the letter and read it.

You watch as his expression formed into confusion as he reads through the paper. It only took a few moments before something in him clicked that it was you sending him the letters.

"Y/N," He began, and you started quivering in fear.

You should've known this would happen, but you didn't expect it to happen this sooner. In fact, you believed that this wouldn't happen at all. But it did.

"Let me explain," You eventually gave up and accepted fate and watch as your identity as "Moon" be revealed to your crush. You're now exposed so you didn't have any other choice but to explain everything. "Yes, I am Moon. I was the one writing you the letters that you've been getting in your locker."

Jake's face was unreadable. He looked bewildered and puzzled. He was trying to comprehend what was happening right now. All this time, it was you?

"I started crushing on you when we attended that birthday party before. I didn't want to confess my feelings for you because I was scared that you were going to harshly reject me, so I started writing down letters as a way to tell you how I feel about you without making you feel awkward around me." You continued, eyes suddenly taking an interest in your shoes. They were brand new too.

Jake was silent, and you felt your heart crack into pieces. You were mad at yourself for being so careless about it that he ended up finding out about you as his secret admirer. You wanted nothing else but to run back home, lock yourself in your room and cry with your sad playlist on loop.

You were expecting a harsh rejection coming from him, but what surprised was how he took dangerous steps towards you, minimizing the gap between you two. He placed his hand under your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

"I don't plan on rejecting you Y/N," You stare into his eyes as it reflects the sunlight of the early morning. "I'm actually happy that it was you."

You look at him, puzzled. He lowly chuckles under his breath before leaning over to place his lips against yours. It was a light, quick kiss, but it brought you feeling ecstatic. You've dreamed of this moment before, and now that it happened, you thanked your clumsiness.

As he pulled away, you were sure your face was a red mess.

"Thank you," His smile was as bright as the stars in the sky. It was the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. "Thank you for making me like I'm special to someone."

You felt flustered over his words. You were scared that he could hear the sound of your heart pounding loudly. The butterflies in your stomach were going wild, and you felt like this was all a dream.

"So, what am I to you now?" You broke into a smile as he grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

Jake acted as if he was thinking, "Hm..maybe my best friend still?"

He bursts into a fit of giggles as he sees your smile slowly disappear, replacing it with a look of disbelief. You removed your hand from his and walked at a faster pace away from him.

He ran to match your pace beside you before holding your hand again, "I'm sorry, I won't ever do that again. Is my girl mad at me?"

"Oh my god, it's only five-fifty, Jake." You too broke into laughter over his cheesiness, but your heart fluttered over the thought of Jake calling you his.

__

HERE’S A LITTLE BONUS! since I've made you guys wait for 4 months :(

"What the fuck?" Was the first thing You heard from Jay as you and Jake entered the classroom. All of your classmates were staring at your and his hands intertwined together.

Jay stood in front of you two, crossing his arms together. "Can one of you explain when this happened?" he motioned towards your linking hands. You and Jake smiled at each other before walking away, leaving Jay in a fit of joy, and confusion.

[sixstepsaway]

so a little bit ago i had an anon who asked for advice on going back to writing after a long time and responded with a thorough if slightly incoherent reply about how i go about my own writing

but i wanted to offer today that i am trying something new

some of you know i was diagnosed with ADHD back in february. i'm pretty sure that when i was 16-19 my ADHD was presenting as mostly hyperactive rather than inattentive and so i used to write a downright ridiculous amount (i wrote 20,000 words in one night once and I did a 170k nanowrimo month) and, yeah

but now it's gone more inattentive and writing has become, to put it mildly, a struggle

i also struggle with finishing things, which is about as fun as it sounds

i started medication a few weeks ago. i'm being titrated through psych UK and what that means is they started me on 20mg of my meds (elvanse, known as vyvanse in the usa) for 7 days, then it goes up to 30mg for a week and then 40mg for a week and then 50mg for a week until 60mg being the top of the planned titration. the idea is you find the top dose you can have that works for you, and you dont go any higher (apparently a too high dose is the same as nothing at all)

the first week was amazing because i suddenly had energy for the first time in literally my entire life (i am getting 16-18 hour days. i am LIVING the life. before i used to get 4-8 hour days and it was awful) and i was sleeping better and it was just. a miracle.

but it didnt really help me write after that first week or so

last week I was on 50mg and my PMS was awful so i was doing terribly then too

and i was getting upset because i couldnt write still

and then a few days ago it clicked why i couldnt write: i was getting stuck on the points of the fic i was writing

so, i might know that "they have sex" is the goal

but i was getting lost in the middle? because i couldnt properly brain how they got from the point they were at to where i wanted them to be, and my brain goes too fast to write 3k words between those points and not get stuck along the way. MY FINGERS ARE ONLY SO FAST!!! SLOWER THAN MY BRAIN!!

so. i'm now doing it like this:

i can include bits of dialogue i want to work in, i can write out the steps they need to take to get where they're going, and then i can follow that to its conclusion by writing those points into proper prose

anyway i hope this helps someone somehow, i've written 1k of bullets so far today lmao okay good day

[fandom-imagines]

Thank you

Fandom: Death Note

Pairing: L X Reader

Warnings: Emotional and physical abuse.

Words: 3k

A/N: I’m in a death note phase again. I wrote this instead of doing my essay oops.

Being the girlfriend of a worldwide, secret detective was hard.

Relationships were hard enough as it is but having to make sure both the partners names were kept hidden made it even harder. Then there’s the constant travelling that takes place along with many other things.

Basically, the relationship between L Lawliet and Y/N Y/S/N was a complicated one. Don’t get me wrong, they were both madly in love with the other, but that didn’t make it any less hard.

“Y/N!” A high-pitched voice sounded from behind the aforementioned couple.

That’s Misa, Y/N’s best friend and often co-worker. The two met at a photoshoot where they became fast friends, the pair being able to work together due to their celebrity status.

“Hi, Misa.” A soft smile crawled onto the Y/H/C-haired girls’ lips.

She usually loved seeing Misa, but today all she wanted was to go back to her house and chill, maybe with Lawliet, maybe not. Who knows? Not her.

“Hi, Ryuzaki.” Misa greeted her best friends’ boyfriend, albeit unknowingly, before grasping her small hand around Y/N’s arm. “Bye, Ryuzaki!” Were her final words as she dragged Y/N away, unaware that she was desperately mouthing “sorry” towards her boyfriend.

~

“Light won’t even take me on a date, Y/N/N!” Misa whined, still talking about her ‘boyfriend’, “Isn’t that so unfair?”

“Very.” Y/N mumbled, turning the page on her magazine which lay in front of her.

She was currently lying across Misa’s bed, the pink sheets creasing beneath her. The girl’s legs were crossed in the air, the entire weight of her body being placed solely on her stomach. The magazine she was reading was something she had bought on the way back to Misa’s, hoping to share opinions on outfits or gossip about latest celebrities, something that the pair had done since they met.

“Are you even listening, Y/N/N?” The blonde continued to whine upon realizing that her friend was no longer listening to her boy drama.

“Sorry, just deep in thought.” Y/N’s words weren’t necessarily a lie, she was deep in thought just not about something she wished to share.

Misa didn’t know about Lawliet and Y/N’s relationship, nobody did. That was how they liked it. No one could intervene, no drama or anything of the sort.  Just the two of them, happy, together.

Oh how she longed to be with him right now. The two of them together, even if they were just sitting in HQ together whilst working on the Kira case that they had been working on for months now. That was how they had met: the Kira case.

Y/N knew of his involvement, her father worked as a detective, similar to Lights. That was how she joined the investigation despite being a student. Both her father and close friend, Light, recommended her.

However, that friendship was slowly fading as she found out more and more evidence that made her suspect Light of being Kira. She’s smart, very smart, that’s why she got along with both geniuses. She fit in well with the two. But the more she investigated the case, the more she realized that Light could possibly be behind the mass murders that were causing terror across the world, especially Japan.

“Ooh! What about? Is it a boy?” Misa was now sat up on the ground, arms wrapped tightly around the yellow pillow that she was previously sitting on. Her loose blonde locks fell down her back as well as over the pillow. She looked absolutely beautiful.

How did Light not love her back?

“Shut up.” The other girl huffed, tossing a pillow from Misa’s bed into the face of the owner, giggling as Misa fell backwards onto the soft carpet before bursting into a fit of giggles herself.

“You have to tell me!” The words left Misa’s lips between giggles as she recomposed herself.

“No!”

“Yes~”

The two argued back and forth for around five minutes before giving up, and bursting into a giggle fit once again, something that was common between the pair.

“So, you like someone?” Misa wiggled her eyebrows in amusement at the fact that her best friend was finally interested in someone other than fictional characters. “Tell me everything.”

Without revealing who it was, Y/N began to tell her about her ‘crush’, despite said crush actually being her boyfriend of a few months now. Ensuring that no significant details were released which could identify the man, she told her everything. Blushing was something new to her, but neither Misa nor Y/N complained. It was a refreshing change for them both.

“Wow,” The model let out a breath she wasn’t aware that she was holding once Y/N had poured her heart out, slightly at least. “I never knew you were capable of such feelings, Y/N/N!”

“Stop teasing me~” Y/N’s hands covered her blushing face, words becoming muffled behind the skin. “This is embarrassing enough as it is,” a groan left her lips as she continued her sentence. “Besides, I doubt he even likes me back.” The final words were mumbled, self-doubt settling in as she realized that her boyfriend might not actually love her.

Logically, Y/N knew that L wouldn’t use her, or at least she hopes, and that he genuinely did value her and her opinion. He enjoyed her company and didn’t find her annoying. He really did love her, despite not having admitted it.

“Sure he does! You’re great, Y/N/N.” Misa grinned at her best friend, unknowingly providing her with a source of comfort.

“Thanks, Misa.” A sigh left the other girls lips, a sinking feeling of doubt looming over her. “I should probably get home, it’s getting late. Goodnight, Misa.”

“Goodnight, Y/N!”

~

Instead of heading home Y/N decided to take a late-night stroll.

The dark sky was littered with bright stars, a nice change from the usual plain nights sky in Japan. It gave an almost comforting feel to the stroller, reminding her of her childhood when she would stay up late to stare up at the midnight sky with a genuine belief that it was the world watching over her, much like the moon which was ‘following’ her everywhere she went to make sure she was safe.

It was childish, yes, but she was a child so what do you expect?

The Y/H/C-haired girl observed her breath as she exhaled. It was cold which wasn’t a huge surprise considering that it was nearing December now; winter time. Despite being extremely cold, she decided that it wasn’t time to head home just yet. Her mind wasn’t entirely clear and it wasn’t exactly in her best interest to go home with an overthinking mind, so he continued her walk.

The sound of her shoes hitting the ground was one of the only things she could hear other than the occasional passing car or truck. The streetlights lit up her view, being the only thing that did so and Y/N internally thanked whoever put them up considering she wouldn’t be able to use the torch on her phone as it had died long ago. The odd passing-by car provided her with some light also, although it wasn’t much.

It wasn’t until around 1am when she finally decided she should head home.

~

The house was deadly silent as she entered, but the lights were still alight, leaving the daughter of the local baker and detective confused.

“Mum?” The girls voice was slightly quiet in case she was asleep whilst still being loud enough for anyone seated downstairs to hear.

“Where have you been?!” Her mothers voice was incredibly loud, making Y/N cringe and wince. “I’ve been worried sick! How could you make your mom worry like this?”

Ah, there comes the guilt tripping. Y/N’s thoughts were awfully loud, and she cursed herself internally.

“Sorry, mom.” A frown had made its way onto her lips as she apologized.

Sure, she probably should have warned her that she was going for a walk, but there was no need to guilt trip her.

“You should be. Now go to your room!”

She simply ran upstairs.

~

The bags under Y/Ns’ eyes almost matched Ryuzaki’s the following day.

She hadn’t gotten any sleep that night as she replayed every bad moment with her mother sine childhood and believe me, there was a lot of them.

Her mother hadn’t been the best parent to say the least. She was never physically abusive, but the mental scars from her words and actions had taken a toll on her daughter throughout the years.

“Are you okay?” Lights words were full of concern upon noticing the girls tired composure. The way she stood further proved that she was exhausted considering how she was slumped over. Hands shaking also, Light was genuinely concerned, despite his status as Kira, something he knew that she suspected. “You look terrible, no offence.”

“I’m fine.” Her words were quiet, almost silent, too wrapped up in her own thoughts to give a completely response but she figured those words would suffice and he would hopefully leave her alone.

Whilst concerned, Light knew not to push things when someone didn’t want to talk, so he didn’t push it further, favouring to ask if she was going to the HQ later which she was.

“Ryuzaki isn’t in today,” Lights words caught her attention, finally pulling her from her trance, “he’s working on the investigation.”

“Oh,” while her response was short, the criminal still cheered internally, glad that he had stopped her worrying, even if it was for a split second.

~

For the entire day she was completely ‘out of it’, unable to concentrate or even form a coherent sentence and she mentally kicked herself at her so-called failure. However she was slightly grateful that there was no exam today, knowing she would have most definitely failed. She probably wouldn’t have been able to write more than three words.

Y/N’s walk to HQ was lonely as she desperately craved some human contact.

She really needed a hug.

As though in a trance, the girl scanned herself into HQ and headed towards the main room where she knew everyone would be.

“Hi, Y/N,” Matsuda’s cheerful greeting caught Ryuzaki’s attention. Well, more like the name of the person he was greeting.

Nobody could have known however, unaware of the short-lived glance he had spared towards her. This short glance told him a lot: she hadn’t slept, she was deep in thought and she felt… crap.

This worried the detective immensely. He really did care for the girl; a lot more than he would admit. Not that he didn’t want to, he just didn’t know how she would react and didn’t want to risk facing rejection.

It would hurt.

“Hi.” The response she gave Matsuda was blunt, emotionless which L wasn’t happy to hear.

She never used that tone. She was usually cheerful. It must be bad.

“You guys can go for a break. You’ve been here most of today and it’s not nearing 5pm.” L’s words matched his girlfriends tone as usual, uncaring about the relief his words had just provided the others on the case. “Except you.” His gaze was now fixated on his love, making her internally curse at herself for being so obvious about her low mood.

The raven-haired detective waited for everyone to leave, stare unmoving as he observed Y/N’s every move and she walked towards the chair opposite him.

“What is it?” Y/N’s gaze was cast towards the ground, not wanting L to see her like this. “I’m sorry.” Her words were quick, worried that he was going to say something that would simply upset her more. “I-I didn’t mean too.”

L’s cold hand gently grasped her chin, lifting her face so that they could look at each other and he cringed slightly as he saw the tear threatening to fall from her eyes.

Okay, he is now really worried.

“What’s wrong?” His words were quiet but still laced with genuine concern, along with his eyes. “You can tell me.”

“It’s nothing, really.” The words stumbled from her lips, only worrying him more. “C-can I just go today? Please.”

L simply nodded, watching as she dashed from the HQ and out of his sight.

~

“Why do you keep disappearing?” Y/N’s mothers voice was the first thing she heard as she walked through the door.

“Please, leave me alone.” Y/N begged, simply wishing to be alone.

She made an attempt to dash upstairs, only to be stopped by her mothers tight grip around her wrist as she spun her around to face her. A hash slap hit the younger girls face with such a force that they both knew would leave a mark the following day.

“Y-Y/N…” Upon realisation of what she had just done, her tight grip around her daughters wrist loosened, hand dropping to her side.

“Never talk to me again.” YN’s words were quiet yet laced with venom before she finally dashed up to her room, one goal in mind:

Leave.

Her movements were quick as she packed her bag, tears leaking from her eyes in both pain and sadness,

Within minutes her bag was packed, tossed over her shoulder before she ran downstairs.

“Please don’t leave.” Her mother’s plead fell on deaf ears, the only response coming from the closing of the door as she watched her daughter leave, neither of them knowing if she would ever return.

~

It was cold. Very cold and Y/N cursed herself for not bringing a jacket, being in a skirt and t-shirt which was the same outfit she had worn to school today.

Shivering, she began her long walk towards HQ, something she knew would take a long time.

~

“What happened to you?” Detective Yagami’s voice was filled with panic upon seeing the tear stains on her cheeks as well as the bright red bruising hand-mark.

Lawliet payed no attention  to his remark, simply assuming that Matsuda had had a clumsy accident yet again.

“Please, can I just sit down?” Was what captured his attention, the soft and exhausted voice being one he recognised immediately.

“O-of course.” Soichiro’s words were rushed as he signalled towards the seat he had previously occupied which Y/N gratefully took.

L spun on his chair to look at the girl, breath hitching as he took in her appearance.

He caught her gaze and she had looked up after hearing the spinning of the chair and she thanked whatever gods there were that it was simply the three of them.

“Detective Yagami would you mind if we have a moment?” L’s stare was unmoving as Yagami nodded, leaving the room.

“R-Ryu…” Her voice sounded broken, eyes filled with pain and he soon noticed the bag on the ground, quickly coming to the conclusion that something had happened at home, presumably with her mother, and she had ran away.

L quickly climbed onto his feet, opening his arms which Y/N gladly ran into, breaking down into sobs. His hand placed itself on her hair, burying itself into her hair as her face buried into his chest. L was uncaring as her tears soaked through his white tee; he only cared that she was okay. They stood like that for a long time, L providing comfort she didn’t know she needed.

“Come on,” L broke the silence as his girlfriend calmed down, her breath evening out, “lets get you to a room.” He offered her a hand as she pulled away, one she took with extreme gratitude, appreciating that it must have been hard for him to give her any affection.

Their hands never parted as they climbed the stairs of the HQ, heading towards Y/N’s new room. Ryuzaki had thrown her bag over his shoulder, the heavy weight of the bag not affecting him one bit.

The room was empty, and it was clear nobody was staying there.

The noise of the bag dropping to the ground was loud, startling Y/N whilst Lawliet remained unaffected, having been the one that had caused the noise; not that it would have scared him anyway.

Y/N was led towards the made bed by the detective, sitting herself down as he wordlessly instructed before taking a seat beside her.

“I’m sorry for being such a bother.” She apologised, making L shake his head in disagreement.

“You could never be a bother, Y/N. Not to me.” His words were less monotone than usual, less devoid of feeling. There was a genuine tone coming from him. “Matsuda’s a bother, not you.” He spoke which made the shorter girl chuckle, something she felt she hadn’t done in ages, despite it having only been a day, #

“Thanks, Ryu. For everything.”

“It’s my pleasure.” His arm wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her closely towards him until her warmth was felt by him. “I-“ He paused as he began to speak, extremely aware of what he was about to say.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asked, confused at his sudden silence.

“I love you.” His words were quiet, almost unheard had it not been for the fact that the room was deadly silent.

The pair fell into an awkward silence for a moment before L got up to leave, apologising as he did so.

“Wait,” Y/N’s hand wrapped around his own, “I love you too.”

A small smile made its way onto both of their lips, L walking back over to the girl until he was stood directly in front of her. She watched closely as he bent down, unsure of what he was about to do. The second his lips touched her forehead a huge blush flowed across her cheeks.

“R-Ryu…?” Her embarrassed voice sounded, the only response she earned from him being a small smile before he gave her a pat on the head, turning to leave.

“Thank you.” She called, making him stop in the doorway.

“Anytime, Y/N/N.” The use of the nickname only made her blush harder.

[writer-ish]

the little things

pairing: mason x detective (grace bennett) word count: 3K words | rating: T (language)

summary: An exhausted and overworked Detective gets a sweet surprise. For Week 2, Day 6 of @wayhavensummer: Farmer's Market.

special note: After maybe a month or so of writing nothing (aside from 100-200 words here and there that, had they not been on a computer, I would have immediately crumpled them up and thrown them into a wastebasket), I sat down today and wrote this entire thing in a few hours. It is raw, unedited, and probably more reflective of my own personal state of mind than I'd like. That said, I am yeeting it into the tumblr void and then going out for the night - so uh, enjoy? be kind? and thank you for reading. ♥️

“Let’s go to the thing.”

Detective Grace Bennett looked up from her computer screen, her gaze blurry and unfocused, as she tried to parse together the words she’d just heard coming from the doorway to her office.

“The… thing?” she mumbled distractedly, digging the heels of her hands into her eye sockets in an attempt to violently will them to work properly. What time is it—? It must still be midnight or close to it—

Blinking rapidly, she watched as the numbers on the bottom of her computer screen came into a sort of unsettled, electric focus.

6:02 AM.

Fuck.

She had been working on her reports for seven fucking hours. All the way through the night. Once again, forgoing sleep in an attempt to pretend she had a grasp on all the things that she was responsible for - Detective of Wayhaven, Agency liaison, good friend, good daughter, good—

She looked up, remembering once more that she was no longer alone at the station.

Mason stood in the doorway, languidly leaning against its frame, arms crossed. To the casual observer, his posture was relaxed, his expression nondescript.

But Grace knew him well enough now to recognize the sharp keenness in his eyes. The way they took in every detail of her appearance, from the haphazardly tossed-up hair, to the rumpled blouse, to what she could only presume were lines of haggard exhaustion running through her features.

He could likely smell the day-old ice cold coffee by her side. The half-eaten ham sandwich crumpled beside it.

Again, his expression hardly belied a recognition of any of that. Instead, he appeared to simply be a person waiting patiently to hear the answer to a question he’d asked.

But somehow - she didn’t know how, and yet - Grace knew better.

“I’m sorry,” she said with a sigh, pushing away from her desk. “What did you say again?”

“It’s Friday,” was his reply.

She inwardly groaned. Grace was not in the mood for riddles, and the enigmatic, indifferent phrasing of his response caused a surge of exhaustion-induced annoyance to flow through her body. Dropping her head into her hands, she took a deep breath.

Perhaps he took pity on her. Perhaps he realized that his typical reticent abruptness was not going to go over well this morning.

Whatever it was, Grace suddenly felt a hand on the back of her down-turned head. A light pat, then strong fingertips moving through the locks until they hit her scalp, kneading gently on contact.

She let out a soft groan, her shoulders wilting further, elbows almost giving out, as the painful yet pleasurable push of his fingers worked her sore and tired head and nape.

“The market thing,” he said softly after a moment, a moment in which she was certain she had become a barely-sentient pile of mush on top of her keyboard. “That they do in the square. It’s Friday. You like to go. I was going to take you.”

It took a moment for his words to penetrate the pleasure haze encompassing her weary brain, but when they did, she felt her body still.

He was offering to go to the Farmer’s Market with her?

It was true, she did enjoy going. Before the infiltration of Unit Bravo into their lives, her and Tina used to go together every week in the summer to peruse the wares and fresh produce of the local farmers—most coming from just outside the small city limits of Wayhaven, but others from even further away. There was always something delicious and fresh to purchase or some trinket that would catch their eye. Grace had lost count of the number of handmade soaps she’d impulsively bought, only to shove them under her bathroom sink and never use them.

But then, after the arrival of Unit Bravo, after Grace’s promotion, when things got busier - when things got more dangerous - she would find herself able to go less and less. If she did manage to make it out, she’d usually end up taking Nate with her for protection. It was the type of thing he enjoyed, too; just the concept of it, as well as the simple pleasure of a new experience. Plus, Mason had always refused to be caught dead anywhere near such a cacophonic plethora of different people, bright colours, and various smells.

So the fact that he was offering to take her today, now, was an incredibly unexpected development.

“Are you sure?” she asked, barely even trying to keep the disbelief out of her voice. She looked up at him, standing so closely to her, his hand still warm and comforting on the back of her neck. “You know it’s—the same, as it’s always been. Right?”

He snorted. “Yeah, I know. And yeah, I’m sure.”

“Alright, well—” She was about to acquiesce, self consciously taking her hair out of its messy bun and running her fingers through it in an ineffectual attempt to make it look presentable, but then she caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of the computer screen and groaned. Suddenly she felt a need to backtrack on her initial agreement.

“Honestly? I look wrecked, I haven’t slept in twenty-four hours, and I doubt I’d be very good company right now. Also, you hate the Farmer’s Market. Why torture us both?”

Even as the words left her mouth, she knew she was making excuses for his sake more than her own. The fact was, she’d gotten a surge of adrenaline at the idea of going now, on a quiet, cool summer morning, when things would just be opening up and most of the town was still sleeping—to get a nice hot coffee and a pastry. To pick up some strawberries and peaches. To look for a new candle or maybe another handmade tsotchke that she didn’t need to add to her already colourful and cheerfully cluttered space. And, most of all, to spend the time with Mason.

But still. She looked like shit and she knew he hated the thought of going - Why did he offer, then? her traitorous thoughts couldn’t help but wonder - so what was the point?

As though he could read her roiling thoughts - the fact that she wanted to go and the reasons why she thought they shouldn’t - he affected a frustrated sigh and leaned over her, bracing one hand on her desk and running the other from her neck down to her back.

“Get up, Detective.” With the one arm around her back, he hoisted her out of her seat. She found herself stumbling into the warm comfort of his chest, her cheek resting against the soft material of his black t-shirt.

Her hands grasped at the back of it as she steadied herself and she looked up at him, even closer now, chest to chest, their arms around each other. He leaned forward and her breath hitched slightly, but his lips only met the tip of her nose before he pulled back and held her at arm’s length.

“Change,” he commanded, pointedly looking at her wrinkled shirt and coffee-stained trousers, “and then meet me outside the station. You have three minutes.”

Still reeling from the playful kiss, she touched her nose lightly and watched him saunter out.

It took her a moment to snap back to reality and remember what she was supposed to be doing. “Right, clothes.”

In two-and-a-half minutes, she had stripped down, shoved her old clothes in her bag, and changed into the spare outfit she kept in the office: a winning combo of bicycle shorts and a light-grey oversized shirt with the words WAYHAVEN PD on it in large block letters. She’d ditched the heels, slipped on her spare runners, and did a quick rinse and spit into her old coffee cup with the mouthwash she kept in her desk “for emergencies” only, managing to meet Mason outside with thirty seconds to spare.

She caught him flick his cigarette to the ground before straightening up as she approached.

As she always did when she had the opportunity, she found herself admiring the view he provided - tall, broad-shouldered and sinewy, like a Hellenic sculpture come to life. His hair tumbled in dark waves towards his shoulders - he needed a cut, she thought to herself - his mouth naturally sullen, even when it was pulled to the side in a smirk, like it was in that moment. Hands in the pockets of his dark jeans, half-tucked into his standard black boots, which he still wore despite the heat that was already beginning to infiltrate the crisp morning air.

He looked like a goddamn supermodel, while she looked like she was taking her two-point-five children to soccer practice. She tugged self-consciously at her shorts.

“This is all I had—” she began apologetically as soon as she got close to him, but her words were cut off by his lips on hers.

All thoughts of self-consciousness vanished as she wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. She felt her feet leave the ground as he held her closer to him, his mouth tasting faintly of cigarettes and entirely of Mason, a combination that always managed to make her feel lightheaded. She couldn’t help the tiny moan that escaped from deep in her throat and he tightened his grip on her further, stroking her tongue with his, leaving her pulse racing in more places than one.

After a moment he set her down and pulled away, keeping one arm loosely wrapped around her shoulders.

“Better go now before we don’t go at all,” he said gruffly, leading her to her car.

By the time they got to the Farmer’s Market, the majority of the stands had opened, farmers and local merchants laying out their produce and wares.

All feelings of tiredness that had begun to seep into Grace’s consciousness on the drive over - Mason had generously offered to drive “this heap of crap”, as he’d put it, seeing how she was probably in no state to operate heavy machinery - vanished as they parked and approached the town square.

She looked up and watched as Mason appeared to brace himself, jaw tight, nostrils flaring.

“Hey.” He looked down at the sound of her voice, the feel of her hand resting gently on his chest. “Are you sure about this?”

She watched as his body appeared to physically drain of tension, his hitched-up shoulders gentling slowly downwards, his jaw unclenching, fists unfurling. His eyes closed briefly and he placed his hand over the one that still lay over his heart.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” His smirk came back to his lips slowly. “Let’s buy you some fruit.”

She laughed at the intentional absurdity of his remark, feeling something akin to joy bubble up in her chest. She knew better than to chalk it up to anything but sleep deprivation-induced delirium, but whatever it was, it was a high she was planning to ride for as long as she could before the inevitable crash.

They wandered through the colourful stalls, Mason waiting patiently as Grace felt for the good peaches, smelled the baskets of strawberries, picked through for the perfect cherries. He dutifully held the baskets and burlap bags she handed to him, shooing away her concerns about the smells or the feel of the scratchy material on his skin.

It was still early for Wayhaven and they were practically the only two there, aside from the people at their stands and Haley, as always, ready with her carafe of coffee and some fresh-baked pastries for selling.

Grace gratefully filled her cup with a smile, before noticing that Haley was gesturing her forward. Leaning in, she gave her friend a quizzical look.

“You guys are good now?” she whispered, nodding over Grace’s shoulder.

Grace turned in the direction Haley had gestured, her eyes catching on Mason. He was looking intently at a collection of wind chimes a few stalls down, his hands full of the fruits and goodies she’d acquired, a long baguette sticking out of one of the bags.

Her heart swelled at the sight of him, in that sharp, needful way it always did, a pleasure-pain that reminded her of the way he’d stroked her hair earlier. So necessary, so vital, so scary, so new: all these things that she held to be true about her feelings towards him. The knowledge that she needed him, perhaps—no, certainly more than he needed her, and the fear that it was all-too fleeting. Nothing more than just a memory, already half cooked.

“Yeah,” she said softly, feeling her mouth turn upwards into a smile she knew didn’t quite reach her eyes. “He’s—we’re good.”

Haley nodded, pleased, before offering Grace a cherry danish that she refused to accept payment for. Grace took another bracing sip of hot coffee and turned back to Mason, only to find he’d disappeared.

She meandered a bit through the remaining stalls, debated the necessity of yet another vanilla sandalwood candle or birthstone necklace, and glanced up more than occasionally to see if she could spot where he’d gone or if he was going to return.

Right at the point where she was starting to worry, the weariness of her wakeful hours suddenly threatening to catch up to her in the kind of hysteria that only exhaustion could create, he appeared.

He still carried her two baskets of fruit and a large burlap reusable shopping bag with that telltale baguette and a few other things she couldn’t even remember now, but in his arms was—

In his arms, he was holding—

Okay, she was crying.

Goddamn lack of sleep, she was actually fucking crying in the middle of the Farmer’s Market.

As soon as he got close enough to see her tears, he came to a dead stop and threw his hands up in the air, weighted down as they were.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” His tone was a mix of fond exasperation and abject disbelief at the sight of Grace, coffee in hand, forgotten danish dripping cherry filling onto the ground, blubbering like a baby in the midst of all the produce and plants.

But she couldn’t help it, damn it, because he’d gotten her flowers.

Her grouchy, hundred-year-old, vampire non-boyfriend, who hated Farmer’s Markets and crowds and flowers themselves, had gone off on his own and come back with a bouquet of sunflowers, delphiniums, lilacs, and daisies and Detective Grace Bennett—

Could.

Not.

Handle.

It.

She pressed her lips together tightly, just for another sob to escape.

“Jesus Christ, Gracie.” He gently put down everything he was holding to approach her, likely exhibiting extra caution because of how incredibly unhinged she must have appeared in that moment, before bracing his hands on her shoulders. “What the hell is the matter?”

“Honestly—” Her calm, mostly unwavering tone probably leant her an even more psychotic air, as she could feel the tears continue to streak down her cheeks. “—I’m just really tired, but also I really, really love those flowers.” She hiccuped. “So much.”

His face cleared of its worry and instead he shook his head, affectionate exasperation back in his expression. “You’re nuts, you know that?” He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. She leaned into him, partly from weariness and partly because she couldn’t imagine doing anything else.

He squeezed her tightly for a moment and then, bending over, he picked up her bags and the flowers as she scrubbed her face with her hands. He made to hand her the bouquet wrapped in plastic and newspaper, but when she reached for it, he suddenly pulled it back with a tsk-ing noise.

“No more crying, got it?” He pointed the flowers at her along with his warning.

She laughed, even as she felt the telltale tingle start in her nose once more.

“Yes, no more crying. I promise,” she added, making an X over her chest with her pointer finger. “Gimme.”

He passed her the bouquet, a soft smile on his lips as he watched her bury her face in the colourful blooms and take a big inhale.

“Magical,” she sighed happily, before looking up him. She could feel her eyes fill again and his own eyes narrowed, but she just smiled and shook her head. “Thank you.”

His expression softened and he gave her a nod. “Let’s go. Get you to bed.”

She made a teasing noise, a heckling gesture that acknowledged his innuendo, but he just snorted and shook his head.

“You, sweetheart, are sleeping for the next twelve hours. I don’t care how much you beg.”

“But you love it when I beg,” she whispered, resting her chin on his shoulder, then giggled as he looked at her in surprise.

“Are you drunk?” he asked incredulously and she couldn’t help but dissolve into giggles again.

“Just delirious, I think,” she said, wiping more tears - these ones from mirth, rather than an overwhelming feeling of adoration over a thoughtful gesture from a sort-of boyfriend - from her eyes. “But yeah. We should go.”

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked, transferring her Farmer’s Market treasures to his other hand and wrapping his free arm around her shoulders so he could guide her out of the town square.

She looked up at him, this big, grouchy vampire man, so reticent to talk about his feelings and yet so quick to show her how much he cared in a million little ways: his nose subtly wrinkling from the smell of the flowers that he’d gotten for her, his tight hold on her purchases, his arm protectively around her shoulders, shielding her from the growing crowd and guiding her back to her car.

The way he kept looking down at her, eyes scanning her face for further outbursts.

The fact that he’d brought her here in the first place, simply because he knew it was something she liked.

Was she going to be okay?

“Oh yeah,” she said, laughing at his groan upon seeing tears well up in her eyes again. She shook her head to try and get her emotions in check, before standing up on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. He shot her a disgruntled look that just made her laugh even harder.

A summer morning. The sights and sounds of the Wayhaven Farmer’s Market. Mason’s arm around her. All the tiredness, the endless work, the stress - it all just disappeared in that moment and Grace could only think of one word to describe how she felt.

“I’m perfect.”

- ☀️🍓💐 -

[blazedgraysons]

Love Don’t Cost A Thing

Grayson buys you a car, Twitter stans are mean, and Grayson’s really good at making you feel better. 

A/N: this is part 1 of fics I wrote a month ago, forgot about and finally finished. this started out as a simple fluff and idk what happened. also let’s pretend that Grayson still has a wrapped porsche because I could totally see him wanting to match. 

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: horribly written smut and a lot ofme pretending I know about nice cars

God, some bitches will do anything for clout nowadays.

Honestly, when will Gray wake up and realize she’s just with him for his money?

What a fucking gold-digger.

Gold-digger.

That word rings around your head as you continue to scroll through the replies from Grayson’s latest tweet, each one nastier than the last. You sniffle, wiping your tears and locking your phone, before turning to look at your boyfriend through the bedroom window. He’s outside talking to Ethan excitedly over a car, not just any car but a 2021 Porsche 911. A car he bought just for you.

He had approached you earlier this afternoon with a broad grin. As easily excitable as he is, this didn’t feel out of the ordinary to you, so you simply raise an eyebrow while continuing to sip your coffee.

“Are you finished with your final yet, Y/N ?” He whispers out of caution that you might still be testing.

“Two more questions, then I’m all yours baby. What’s wrong?” A sense of worry washes over you since you know he wouldn’t interrupt you unless it’s crucial. He’d grown accustomed to your new routine since the pandemic began. After asking (begging) for you to quarantine with him, he soon realized that the time he thought you two would spend together was taken up by quizzes, essays, and exams as you finished up your senior year of college. While he was more than willing to take second-place to your studies, he was a little antsy for you to be finished.

“Nothing. I just wanted to show you something out in the shed.” Now, this you do roll your eyes at. While you were occupied with studies, he was out in that godforsaken tiny shed almost every day. Secretly, you were glad Ethan had foregone the bed idea because that was the only thing getting him to come to bed to you every night. You assure you’ll be out in a few minutes and shoo him away to finish the test that will ensure your bachelors.

Only twenty minutes later, you feel as if a crushing weight has been lifted off of your shoulders. You crack your neck before sighing and closing your laptop, elated that the four years of your undergrad were finally behind you. You pull out your phone before remembering your promise to Grayson. You walk out the back kitchen doors and turn the corner, not expecting what was behind it.

Your mouth drops. Sitting in front of you is a shiny, white Porsche complete with a giant red bow on the hood. Your boyfriend sits on top of the back seats, dressed in a blue button-down and black slacks. Grayson’s beaming as he holds a bouquet of roses out towards you. You try to think of something, willing anything to come to your brain, but shock leaves you speechless so you start tearing up instead.

Grayson, mistaking your tears for anger or sadness, is by your side in a minute.

“Angel, what’s wrong? Do you not like it? I wanted to wrap it to match mine, but Ethan said it was a bad idea. But- but we can always go to the dealer and switch it out if you don’t like it or I can -“ He stammers, immediately worried that he had disappointed you. You cut him off with a deep kiss, relieving any worry that was flying through his brain as he grabs your waist to hold you closer.

“No, it’s perfect. You’re perfect. Everything’s perfect. But why?” You question.

“Well, I wanted to do something special for you since you finished school today. And since we can’t travel anywhere, I figured this was the next best thing. You’ve worked so hard these past four years, Angel; I just wanted to show you how proud I am of you and how much I love you.” He explains, scratching the back of his neck nervously. Your heart melts at this. While you had expected maybe a five-star dinner and hopefully some marathon sex, you had no idea your boyfriend would do something so extravagant for you. Never in your wildest dreams did you believe someone would care for you like this, and adoration begins to fill your entire being.

“Grayson, I- I don’t know what to say.” You’re astounded, and every time you look at the car, you’re speechless again.

“Hopefully that you like it. It was kind of expensive.” He jokes, now reassured that your silence is a good thing and not out of anger. You swat his chest before wrapping your hands around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss. Just as his hands start to slip towards your ass, you pull away from him.

“Thank you, Grayson. For the car, for letting me stay here, for everything. I don’t deserve you-“

“Don’t start with that.” He cuts you off, leaning in so your foreheads are touching, “You do plenty for me, and if we’re honest, I don’t deserve you. You’re beautiful, intelligent, funny. There’s nothing in the world I wouldn’t do for you, and you can’t change that.” Before you can even respond, you notice Ethan making his way out through the back door.

“Yo, what are you two still doing out here? Don’t you have reservations at six?” He yells out, towel over his shoulder and obviously not expecting the two of you to be interrupting his future tanning session. You turn back to your boyfriend, confused as Grayson sighs exasperatedly and looks up to the sky.

“I haven’t told her about that yet, dickhead.” Grayson yells back to his brother.

“Well, can you hurry up? I want to lay out for a bit, and the weather app says it’s supposed to rain at four.” Ethan asks. You can’t help but giggle, knowing Ethan’s just oblivious to the very intimate moment you and Grayson were having. Grayson huffs, annoyed that his brother is ruining his plan before turning to you.

“I booked us reservations at Il Cielo.” Your eyes widen at the mention of your favorite restaurant.

“But how? It’s been booked for weeks. We couldn’t even get in for my birthday.” You question.

“The owner’s daughters are fans, so I promised a couple pictures tonight in order to get a table. Now go get dressed, we can take your car if you want.” He explains. Images of you two dressed up while Grayson drives the new Porsche fills your mind and you slightly shiver. Grayson, raising an eyebrow to your reaction, leans down for another kiss with you. Right when Grayson’s tongue enters your mouth is when you hear the fake-retching coming from the other twin.

“Bro, go away!” Grayson groans, holding you closer to him. You’re both leaned up against the car as you turn to watch the interaction between the two siblings.

“Fine. But first, let me get a picture of the happy couple. You’d kill me if you didn’t get to flex how good of a boyfriend you are.” He says, grabbing his phone. Grayson moves to argue, but you silence him, posing for the camera instead. You both smile, looking happier and more in love with each other then you’ve ever been. And you can’t help smiling wider when you see the tag and pictures on Twitter.

It only took a few minutes before the hate comments started flooding in. You had set your phone down for a quick shower but returned to notification after notification. It was non-stop dm’s, tweets, and even responses to IG photos from 2016 about how you weren’t good enough for Grayson, how you were just using him, and how he would eventually find someone better.

Usually, you could just ignore it, turn your phone off and turn a blind eye to the negativity spewed at you. But you were already emotionally overwhelmed, and you couldn’t help the small part of you that agreed. What had you done to deserve a man who could drop thousands of dollars on you at a whim? You weren’t impressive, weren’t an influencer or a model, just an average girl who managed to catch his eye.  

Your phone screen starts to blur as tears form in your eyes. You try to stop the burning feeling in your throat. Still, fat tears begin to roll down your cheeks onto the screen as you start sniffling, falling victim to your deepest insecurities. You were so caught up in yourself that you hadn’t even noticed Grayson making his way down the hall.

“Y/N, are you almost ready? We have to leave for the restaurant soon.” He yells towards his room, making his way to you before noticing your sobs. You look up at him before sniffling again, feeling sorry that he had to see you like this.

“What's wrong, Angel?” He asks gently, moving to sit next to you on the edge of the bed. He wraps an arm around your bare shoulder, careful not to move the towel you had wrapped around you from your shower.

“Nothing, it’s nothing. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be ready.” You attempt to reassure, moving to wipe the tears from your eye. You wince, noticing how unbelievable you sound even to yourself, and you can already tell Grayson is unconvinced.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” He asks. You nod, not meeting his eyes, looking down at your lap instead. He softly grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his intense stare. “So, what’s wrong?”

“God, it’s really nothing. Some fans on Twitter had just tweeted me some stuff and -“ Before you could even finish, he’s grabbing his phone to look at the replies, nostrils flaring as he reads what fans had mentioned you in.

“It’s honestly nothing, G. I was just being overdramatic.” You promise, wanting to drop it at this point and continue with the perfect day you two were having.

He’s silent for a second, which worries you more than anything since he always has something to say. You rub his thigh, trying to comfort him before he grabs your hand.

“You know none of that is true. There is no one better, never will be. My future begins and ends with you.” He whispers, sounding even more hurt than you. You stare at him widely, dumbfounded at the bold confession Grayson just dropped on you. Taking your silence as disbelief, he moves your hand towards his mouth so he can start kissing your wrist.

“Believe me when I say, Y/N, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you. “ He growls, dropping your wrist to move in front of you. “What can I do to get that through your head?”

With that, he grabs your head roughly, bringing you into a hot kiss. You immediately whimper, wrapping your hands around his neck to pull him closer to you. His tongue slides against yours desperately as he rips your towel off you, tossing it carelessly over his shoulder.

You pull away from each other, panting with desire and trying to catch your breath as Grayson goes down to suck warm, wet kisses onto your neck.

Moaning his name, you move to unbutton his shirt shakily while he continues to move down your neck to your chest. You shrug his shirt off before scratching your nails down his chest as he takes one nipple into his mouth.

Twirling the other nipple in his fingers, you arch into him before he’s switching to the other one and repeating this process. He continues like that for a while until you moan and whimper underneath him, trying to grind up into his lap.

“Grayson, please. Touch me.” You mewl, hips bucking when he drags a finger through your slit. Grayson sucks the mess off his finger before looking down at you darkly, hazel eyes turning a deep brown. He kneels down, spreading your legs and placing his large hands on your hips to hold you down. He places soft, open mouth kisses on the apex of your thighs and meets your gaze before speaking again -

“Mine. You’ll always be mine. Nothing can change that.” He promises. You clench around nothing, feeling like you could cum just from his words of reassurance. He notices how you react and sharply inhales.

“Fuck, so pretty.” He breaths out, and you’re not even sure you’re supposed to hear that, watching Grayson lose himself in the desire to express how deep his love runs for you.

He spreads your lips apart with two fingers before licking at your clit softly. He licks it again before pulling you towards him with a long, slow lick watching as you fall apart.

You already knew this was going to take no time on your end, but watching his intense gaze on you causes you to produce more and more wetness, to the point where you feel like you’re leaking onto the mattress.

He stops at your clit, circling it a few times with his tongue before taking it into his mouth. He suckles on it, watching as you fall back onto the mattress with a high pitch whine.

“Grayson.” You moan shakily, moving to get closer to his mouth.

You start rolling your hips onto his face, grabbing your tits to ground yourself somehow. Your moaning consistently now, not knowing how else to convey how good he’s making you feel other than with high-pitched sounds.

He places his arms under your thighs, pulling you closer to him, and starts making out with your pussy, savoring every sweet drop that comes out of you. He sucks harder before pulling back and rubbing at your clit with two fingers.

“So good, Angel. Perfect for me.” He gasps, lips swollen and red. His mouth is dripping, and he shakily runs a hand through his hair before diving back in.

He focuses on your clit this time, sucking hard while reaching to slide two fingers inside of you. He drags them back and forth, feeling you clenching down hard on him.

“Grayson, I’m so close.” You moan, getting louder and louder as he continues to flood your body with pleasure. He sucks on your clit even harder before dragging his fingers against a specific spot, and you’re suddenly overwhelmed with white-hot pleasure. You scream as your orgasm rolls through you in shockwaves, simultaneously pulling away and trying to get closer to him.

He doesn’t take his mouth off you and groans loudly at how your pussy pulsates in his mouth. He notices he’s grinding in the air and presses a palm down to relieve some of the pressure in his pants.

You lay there with an arm over your eyes, taking ragged breaths trying to calm yourself down. Grayson finally removes himself from you and goes up to lay next to you, stroking your hair and moving your arm so you can look at him.

“Never has a man ever made me cum that hard.” You mutter. He laughs at that before he turns to kiss you softly, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips and tongue. His kissing grows sloppier and sloppier until he’s slotting himself in between your thighs.

You reach down to unbutton his pants and pull them and his briefs down as far as you can until he leans back to remove them altogether.

He gets back in position, kissing you some more while his rock-hard cock brushes up against your thigh. He grinds into you as you pull away from him.

“Gray?”

“Yeah.” he murmurs hotly, continuing to grind into you.

“Fuck me, please.” You purr.

He breathes shakily and lines up with you, rolling his hips into you slowly. You both moan at the first thrust, his guttural and deep and yours high-pitched and whiny. He slowly grinds into you one, two, three times before picking up and thrusting into you properly.

He grabs one of your legs, placing it over his shoulder, allowing him to reach inside you deeper. He speeds up, overwhelming you with the relentless snap of his hips.

“Grayson.” you cry as he reaches down to rub your clit. He groans, unsure whether to look at your aroused eyes, your bouncing tits, or how effortlessly his dick enters and leaves your pussy. He tries to look at all three before groaning, “So fucking hot, Y/N.” He leans down to kiss and suck at your neck before growling in your ear, “Don’t give a fuck what anyone says. You’re so perfect for me. So wet and tight.”

At this point, he’s speaking incoherently. So overwhelmed by how well you’re taking him that he’s saying anything and everything that comes to his brain. That doesn’t stop his words from going directly to your clit, and you moan loudly at his words, begging for him to fuck you harder.

He does as asked, and it isn't until he leans down to kiss you again that you feel your second orgasm hit you like a freight train. You cry out while you dig sharp nails into his back, riding out your orgasm as he continues to pound into you. His thrusts stutter as you clamp down on him like a vice. He continues to roll his hips while cursing lowly into your ear.

“Cum for me, G. Please. I need it.” You whisper while scratching lightly up his back, hoping this will edge him on to finish. Sure enough, his hips stutter as his dick swells before hotly cumming inside you.  He groans out loudly, rocking his hips slowly into you before coming to a complete stop. He lays down on top of you, grabbing a blanket to cover the two of you.

You run your hands through his hair as he softly kisses your forehead.

“I love you, no matter what. Don’t listen to Twitter.” He confirms, sleepily. You hum in agreement, kissing his neck as a response.

“I love you more.”

You both are quiet, the silence lulling you to sleep before Grayson is rapidly jerking himself out of you. You look at his wild expression, concerned.

“Fuck, I forgot about our reservations.”

[okaywitheverything]

hi! can i request minato fall for naruto kindergarten teacher please? thank you 😁

Ma'am: A Possible New Mom? Minato x KindergartenTeacher!Reader

My actual first request! Hope I did it justice! Thank you honey for the request. I wrote some sort of mixed AU so I hope you don't mind.

 A/N: This took a lot of time because I have a lot of tests every month. Also i threw up a week ago and was somewhat sick. Then I lost the two drafts and was so irritated with ms word but somehow I managed to write again. So a lot of blood, sweat and tears went into this. Please shower it with love if you even read this awful Author’s note.

Positive A/N: I did like how it turned out tho, the ending is too cute and you won't know what to expect as I didn't either. I genuinely hope you have fun reading this piece.

Word count: 3K

 Your POV

 “It must be fun to play with the kids all day."

People who think that are the biggest fools on the planet in the universe.

You were picking up the various toys scattered throughout the main classroom, sorting them category wise while the kids took a nap. Most of them anyways.

A few babies had insane amount of energies that they refused to sleep whatsoever. But it wasn't as big a problem as people think it is. All kids have different strengths, a variety of ways to function and unique physiology. You knew if a kid was not tired, forcing him or her to doze off isn't healthy.

Just let the kids be.

So that explains why Naruto was alongside you helping you to collect the sponge shurikens scattered around while you put away the stuffed ninkens on the high shelf. Usually Kiba and Rock Lee would be awake as well, and this trio would play in the hall until their limbs gave out but today even they slept after tiring poor Akamaru out for weird challenges.

“Ma’am, I almost forgot! I want to show you something! Come with me!” Naruto suddenly grabbed your hand leaving his task in the midst and urging you to leave yours too. You looked at him puzzled but giggled at his enthusiasm nonetheless, sometimes kids were too darn cute. You loved the ways kids’ eyes lit up, so optimistic and happy and hopeful until the world snatched it all away. You wanted to preserve this for as long as could.

He took you to the room where the kids kept their small backpacks filled with their favourite articles that they thought were absolutely necessary to take everywhere.

No Neji, you don’t need to have three combs for the care of your luscious hair every possible instant.

Naruto generally brought a lot of snacks which you had to retain sometimes so that he would eat healthy but it became even harder to do so when all he wanted was for Sasuke to taste the tomatoey flavour ‘these’ chips had and gift Rock Lee the curry flavour. That boy had a heart of gold.

 He pulled the zipper of his orange backpack open, and took out a stuffed fox.

“Ma’am meet Kurama! I told him all about you and he wanted to meet you!” He held Kurama up while you were gently petting the plushie’s head, he was so excited to see your happiness to meet his esteemed companion.

These kids and their imaginations! You loved every ounce of it!

“Hello Mr. Kurama!” You didn’t feign excitement, you actually were. You loved kids and their creativity and wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“He’s my best friend! Don’t tell anyone else though! Others might get sad.”

You did an action of zipping your lips, “Your secret is safe with me, sweetie.”

“Look! I also drew something!” He hastily handed you Kurama and proceeded to take out his yellow sketchbook. He kept turning pages filled with rainbows of colours morphing into one another that made some sense in his cute, little head and finally reached his desired page. He pulled your dress with his little chubby hands, an action he often did when he wanted you to sit beside him. You kneeled down, his plushie settled in your lap now as you waited for him to go ahead.

He handed you his open sketchbook where there were three figures, two adults and one kid judging by the height, all wearing triangular outfits. One kid and an adult had striking yellow hair and blue eyes while the other adult wore an orange dress with a large circle in their hands. On closer inspection, you saw your own hair colour and eye colour being illustrated to the best of the toddler’s ability, as far as the crayons allowed him to portray it. You had a circle in your hands, almost the size of your drawn head with black spots in between while the child in the photo held an orange squishy ball. To save you from your confusion, Naruto came to the rescue and started explaining.

“That’s me and Dada over here. And I’m playing with Kurama! And that’s you Ma’am! Bringing me and dada cookies for being good boys like you do in class!”

Your heart melted right there and then. For some reason, your face heated up too.

“Oh my God, honey, that’s amazing!” You pecked his cheek as Naruto blushed slightly and rubbed his head, “You liked it?”

“I Loved it! What did Dada say about it?”

“He got so red like Sasuke’s tomatoes haha. But he put it on our fridge like my other drawings and he said it was the best one yet.”

Before you could reply, crying was heard from the nap room and you sighed. Looks like someone woke up.

“Yay, someone is up! We can now play!” Naruto began running but you stopped him.

“Let’s be sure to pack this all up before, Ma’am Anko will see to your friend okay?”

Minato was waiting alongside other parents, it was 10 minutes till the kindergarten was over. His mind wandered afar, thinking about his journey to this town.

Minato was very afraid when he moved to Konoha, about Naruto settling in and making friends. Of course, back in his previous town he had already got Naruto a place in the best Kindergarten there, pulling all the needed strings but his promotion caught him off guard. Being a single parent was hard enough as it is, and with the worry of adjusting to new surroundings for his growing son, he was almost going to decline the offer. Only after much conviction from his friends that he deserved this, he took the offer, albeit hesitantly.

He was happy with his new workspace and colleagues as well, and was over the moon when he one of his erudite associates had a son the same age as his own, and recommended the city’s best kindergarten where his son was set to go. He went blindly on his associate’s word, because he knew him to be a wise dad.

For the first two months, he had to work relentlessly to prove his position as the new leader in the branch, and so he had his assistant pick Naruto up while he prepared lunch at home for his precious boy, barely making it home fifteen minutes before they did. But when the company celebrated their first real accomplishment, only then did Minato feel he could take a step back and indulge with his son more as he used to do.

When he began picking him up himself, he realised what he had been missing on: small quirky tales, new words his toddler learned, new friends’ names, his favourite teacher’s cookies apparently. Minato quickly noticed, being the perceptive man he was, that Naruto could go hours and hours talking about his Ma’am. He would have thought of it as a crush, had Naruto been older.

But when he first saw you, he could relate to his son if Naruto did have a crush. He knew he was being superficial, being attracted to your appearance at first sight but he couldn’t help himself that you were almost ethereal, too gorgeous to be true. It seemed as if you were glowing when you laughed alongside the kids or held one of them on your shoulders while searching for the parents.

However, your personality was even more so captivating when he finally talked to you at the parents-teachers conference. You were such a quality teacher, he deduced when he noticed how apt you were at describing each kid individually and how dedicated to their growth you were. He loved the bond you had with Naruto, the boy couldn’t stop grinning upon meeting you on his day off.

The bell rung, breaking him out of his reverie, and he waited as the kids ran to the parents, waving goodbyes here and there, ready for their weekend. He could hear your faint shouting over the buzz, “Make sure you have taken all your belongings, kiddos! Have a good weekend!”    

He knew if you had a special place in his son’s heart, he could let you stay in his heart as well.

It was 8 PM, one hour past the Uzumaki kid’s bedtime, but the blatantly crying kid was nowhere near sleeping. A distressed Minato held him on his hip, as he searched the entire house for his favourite plushie, Kurama, without whom Naruto had never slept.

“We’ll find him, Naru. Do you remember where you last saw it?” Minato asked, pausing and sitting in the comfy sofa, looking at Naruto, hoping he’d have an answer.

Naruto’s wails quietened down, fortunately there were no tears, as he pondered and spoke, “I last showed it to Ma’am!”

Minato sighed, he grasped that Naruto would have left it at the playschool because no inch of his house was unsearched. He settled Naruto down on the couch as he deliberated calling you over a toy. He had your number for emergencies, but was this one? The real objection, the actual reluctance he had for calling was totally different though. He hated to admit it, but talking to Naruto’s daydream of a teacher always left him stuttering like a teenager. He could barely listen and respond when he met her at the kindergarten, but talking to that Goddess one on one was more terrifying and nerve-wracking than moving to a new town.

But he knew there was no way Naruto would sleep without Kurama and it was only Friday, nights to wait if he doesn’t ask you about the plushie today. He couldn’t imagine how disheveled will Naruto be without Kurama by then. He would surely award himself with wine if he managed to finish the call without fainting.

With clammy hands and a vigorously pounding heart, he dialed the number.

You were finishing up the last batch of forms and cleaning up, when you saw something abruptly put in the otherwise shipshape playroom. Before you could further inspect, your phone rang, Mr. Uzumaki flashing on top of the screen. Your heart hammered as you wondered what he could be calling about.

You were not going to lie, Mr. Uzumaki was easy on the eyes, always in class A condition with his well-tailored suits as he came to pick Naruto up. Even the married housewives ogled him not-so-subtly. He was such an excellent father, really devoted in his son’s life while simultaneously conquering the business world. An eye candy, with all the best qualities that existed, an immensely put together God’s creation. He was dream partner to have, yet somehow he was single.

Your phone’s ring broke you out of your musing, as your sweaty palms grabbed the phone and received the cal.

“Good Evening, Mr. Uzumaki.” You managed out, your neck suddenly heating up.

“Good Evening, Miss. I hope I didn’t disturb you.”

“Not at all, I was about to head home. How may I help you?”

“If you are still there at the playschool, could you please…… If you don’t mind….. I’m sorry again I called-”

“I assure you, it’s fine. You don’t need to worry about it. Although you do need to tell me the problem if you want me to help.” You giggled lightly, amused at that man stuttering.

“Thank you. Umm Naruto left his night time plushie there I suppose and he doesn’t sleep without it. Could you please, please check if it’s there?”

“Of course.” You held the phone and as you hummed and went to the Kid’s playroom you found Naruto’s sketchbook with the drawing laying on it, and the Kurama toy beside it. You swore you promised Naruto pack it earlier in the day.

“Looks like he did leave it here.”

“Can you keep the school open a bit late, I’ll come and collect it right aw-”

“Its pretty windy right now outside, and you’ll have to bring Naruto too at this hour. I’ll drop it at your home on my way back, I was planning in leaving in five anyways.” Your mouth spoke before you could process what you said, offering to go to his house? Nice going there, you desperate weirdo.

His choked out “Okay” almost surprised you as you ended the call.

This will be a nice, little detour.

About twenty minutes later, the doorbell to the Uzumaki household rang and Minato sprinted to the door, opening it immediately.

There you stood, with tousled hair from the wind, in your long red pea coat and black heels. Your cheeks lightly tinted, no doubt because of the unruly weather outside. Somehow you still looked absolutely perfect in Minato’s eyes as he traced your form, unable to initiate the conversation.

You, on the other hand, had halted completely when the door opened revealing a ripped Minato, his muscles bulging underneath his black shirt while grey sweatpants hung loosely on his hips. His biceps were so thick, you wondered how he managed to exercise on top of all the responsibilities he had.

You handed it over to Minato whose eyes widened at the piece of paper and stood there awkwardly, processing what to say.

Somehow stopping yourself from all the gawking, you cleared your throat as you dug in your black purse and took out Naruto’s best friend and his masterpiece.

“Guess he left this as well.” He gave a forced laugh, trying to make things less uncomfortable after he stood silent for two minutes.

You chuckled lightly in agreement when suddenly thunder boomed behind you, causing you to shriek and slip, only to be caught by Minato, his hands holding you around your middle tightly in a protective manner. You coughed as you stepped back again and he cleared his throat this time when suddenly it started pouring like hell’s rage on Earth.

“You should stay for a while, at least until the rain lightens.”

You were going to decline, but when you saw how bad it was raining, you knew you would have to accept. “Looks, like I’ll have to. Sorry to impose.”

“It’s no imposition at all. I’m inviting you, don’t fret.”

You stepped inside, shrugging your pea-coat off, revealing your black dress underneath. Minato reddened visibly, taking your pea-coat from you and hanging it. He cursed himself as he thought of conversation starters, wanting to say something, anything to not stand like a fool.

“Would you like wine? I have this blush flavoured bottle reading to drink.”

“I would love that, Thank you. What are you celebrating though, if I may ask?” You agreed, maybe the alcohol would calm your buzzing nerves. Besides you were a sucker for wine.

“Nothing much, a simple personal achievement of sorts.” He said with a grin as he led you inside, hopeful of where the night might lead. Maybe the liquid courage would help him finally ask you out.

Behind the wall, Naruto grinned with a pacifier in his mouth. Mission successful.

So that was that. Until next time, cookies.

[nagisasstunningpersonality]

TINSITOGS, a retrospective (happy birthday)

(yes I’m like two days too late I know I’m sorry) 

Why hello followers and ass class fandom, nice to see you there. I’m sure MOST people know about this, but in case you don’t, hi. On AO3 I’m better known as livixbobbiex, writer of maybe one of the most infamous Assassination Classroom fics. 

Which I mean like, if you haven’t read it yet you totally should it’s fanlore at this point I promise- 

Shameless plug that I don’t need aside, I felt that, on its first birthday since actual completion, I just wanted to share some things about it. Some tit bits about writing it, fun facts, maybe even some author advice TM. I appreciate that it’ll be super annoying if I do that in the tags, though, so that’ll all be under the cut. If you don’t want to read the whole post, then no matter what, thanks for the support in general! 

I also want to take the opportunity to announce that I’ve reopened my discord, so if you want to talk about my fics with me (and others), you’re more than welcome to join! (the link is here) 

The origin story 

I’ve stated this many times, I think, but TINSITOGS was never supposed to be a serious story. Taking you back, quite a long time, it actually started in a facebook DM with a friend. We used to come up with “head canons” with each other, which were basically just very condensed fanfiction plots over a multitude of text messages. I believe I was trying to cheer her up, and I tried to come up with some kind of plot line. 

At the time, I was fairly fresh to the Ass Class fandom, and I was joking about how there were no teen pregnancy melodrama fanfictions. It wasn’t that I wanted one, I just thought it was strange for a school centric anime with a bunch of ships to NOT have one. And, back then, I only really cared about karmagisa. So I just decided ‘right it’s happening’. The reason I decided to make it ABO was due to ‘it making sense’. Fun fact: it was almost written as AFAB trans Nagisa, but I decided against it as I didn’t rate my ability to handle it well back then. Looking back on it, I’m glad I made that decision. 

Over around two months, writing out the plot of this story took over my life a little bit. I had no idea where I was going with it, but I was having so much fun with the drama that I decided that Karma and Nagisa shouldn’t get together soon at all, and I had a lot of fun teasing my friend with the ‘will they won’t they’. It was only when I got bored that I invented this intense drama plotline to finish it all off. 

That period of time was a lot of fun. And whilst that friendship didn’t end well, I still have a lot to thank her for. She chose Daichi’s name because I had no idea, and she wanted to annoy me because I didn’t like Haikyuu. When I couldn’t decide on his hair colour, the purple was her suggestion because ‘why logic?’ Daichi speaking Korean was because of how much she liked Kpop. She even helped me choose the title of the actual fic, so there’s a lot you can thank her for, honestly. 

After I finished that story, though, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Whenever I daydreamed, I used to think about that damn Daichi Akabane, and how much I wanted to tell his story. I’d even come up with extra stuff to fill in a lot of the gaps, and developed his character in my mind. I decided that I was really desperate to write it down. Usually that worked when I had an idea I wanted to work through. 

I wrote the first chapter in late 2017, and then the next two as well. I just, kept going, and realised that I could go further still. TINSITOGS was never something that was supposed to be shared, but I decided I may as well. After all, that fated ‘teen pregnancy drama’ fic still didn’t exist, and I thought it would be funny to make it happen. 

Yes, as I’ve stated publicly a few times, TINSITOGS was a crack fic. If I wanted attention from it, it was infamy. We even joked about me cursing the fandom if it ever became the most popular fic (whoops?). What I wasn’t expecting was a bunch of people, in a fandom where at the time there were NO ongoing karmagisa fics and it was pretty dead, to really seem to enjoy it. It was enough to have me keep writing it, at least. I still don’t know at what point I actually started taking it seriously, but somehow I did, and the rest is history? 

The reception 

In my wildest dreams, I never thought that I would be the author of one of the most popular fics in the fandom. To this day, the amount of views TINSITOGS has is insanity to me. For the record, across all platforms it’s on today it has 238,000, which is literally a number I can’t even visualise anymore. Almost quarter of a MILLION. To this day on AO3, it’s the most viewed Ass Class fic that’s an ACTUAL ass class fic (the others are multi fandom compilations). So yeah, I achieved the original goal, I guess? 

Now you might be wondering, “omg the karmagisa fandom is fujoshi trash”. And, considering the origins, it is kind of funny. The thing is, though, TINSITOGS was written at incredibly good time. It was written when there were, essentially, very few long form Karma/Nagisa stories. If any other fics did get posted on occasion, they were usually just oneshots. I was also, at that point, writing very fast. A symptom of ADHD is becoming obsessively productive over certain things. Since I was able to get a 3k chapter out every few days/once a week, TINSITOGS was consistently bumped to the top of AO3′s default view. And some of those first few chapters were altered canon, and transcribing the canon dialogue didn’t take very long. The more views it got, the more people would read it out of sheer curiosity. 

I think it also helps that, at least after it started getting some positive feedback (which was honestly after the pre written chapters), I purposely tried to make it ‘not terrible’. I mean, I personally think the first chapter is pretty weak and if it wasn’t somewhat iconic to a lot of people I’d rewrite it. But in general, I purposely tried to make the world of ABO my own, to make it more accessible to those who don’t like that genre, and stay away from the inherently grosser stuff as much as possible. I genuinely do get comments about how I introduced people to the genre as a whole, still not sure if that’s a GOOD thing but hey, it happened. 

TINSITOGS turned into a lot more than just a joke. It turned into my favourite hobby. It turned into a research project (honestly, you would not believe the amount of mummy vlogs and legit scientific articles about child development I consumed). It turned into something that, at least I believe, was widely loved. 

Meaning 

I think it might be wrong to say that I don’t have AN idea of when I started to take the fic super seriously. For me, it was around the time someone commented something along the lines of saying my writing meant a lot to them, that they’d spent all night reading it and had been unable to put it down. 

Not to get too dark here, but I do have a past in writing a very long, somewhat popular fic (it’s still on my fanfic net profile if anyone’s interested, but I don’t recommend it). However, in the latter part of my teenage years, the depression struck. Writing was the love of my life, and I couldn’t bring myself to do it anymore. Maybe I’d be able to muster an idea or even a chapter at the best points of that, but I’d never completely finished any story. Starting to write again was a huge step in my recovery, and one of the reasons I convinced myself that life was worth it was being able to impact someone’s life somehow. Even to this day, I still remember the fics I read when I was, like, thirteen. How much I still remember them, and how much they meant to be at the time. I wanted to be that writer for someone else. To be honest, it was actually Yuri!!! On Ice that got me out of the super bad, but I still never wrote anything of real consequence. TINSITOGS was the first time in a long time I actually committed to something. 

And, to be completely honest, there were a lot of times I was tired of it, and wanted to just quit. But, the thing was, I felt like people depended on me in a way. I got so many comments that were just FILLED with support, telling me how much they looked forward to every update. It wasn’t just empty words, either, a lot of the times these comments would be super engaged with the actual writing. I can’t even describe just how much they meant to me, how much I would look forward to reading everyone’s opinions. And then discord happened, which was a lot of fun. 

TINSITOGS went a lot further than I ever thought it would. There were comments, discussions, fan art, fan FIC (which is honestly incredible to me). Someone even added it to TV Tropes, at one point. Not to mention the Cards Against Humanity deck and quiz It makes me so unbelievably happy that I could inspire that much creativity, but it’s a two way street. It was all of that which inspired me to write, too. 

Writing 

The only real goal I actually had was aiming for around 3000 words per chapter. I had a whole facebook log of plot points as planning, and I was mostly just trying to expand on them into prose. I honestly thought that, at its completion, the entire fic would be around 100k words, if that. Not, at one point, being literally the longest ass class fic on AO3. 

There are a lot of aspects that were directly adapted from the original messages, and I tried to stay faithful to it more so at first, even if I later removed some of the pure crack. But the style was also vaguely similar, with the story being told mostly from Nagisa’s perspective with swaps to Karma when it made sense. All the main plot beats, too, are pretty much identical. The plus to this was I was able to add a lot of really fun foreshadowing, and I feel like it’s a fun reread because of it. 

Honestly though, if there’s a demand to release those OG message logs, I will. Mostly because it’s kind of funny, and interesting to see. Isogai and Nagisa were engaged at one point, even. 

Obviously, it changed somewhat. 3000 was the minimum length, and the time to completion was whenever it felt right. One of my big concerns was about pacing, so it took a lot more fleshing out and maybe ‘filler’ content for some of the main arcs to work. 

There’s parts of TINSITOGS I don’t think aren’t written that well, and some that I’m still super proud of. I think you can definitely tell there’s a gradual shift in style, and I get a lot more comfortable with writing them as characters as it goes along. To be honest, my pride for the fic overall is what it represents. 

It is funny to think about the places it got written in, though. I started it when I worked at McDonalds with no life direction, then it went through my first year of university with me. It’s been written in at least four countries. Aeroplanes, night clubs, long haul buses, a train through the Japanese southern coastline. Even the start of covid. TINSITOGS managed to see a lot. I even turned a scene in (the boat scene during the India chapter with altered names) to my university as a legitimate assignment. 

There were also a few messages I wanted to achieve, once I realised I had the platform to put them across. One of them was, obviously, ‘use protection kids’. It was important to me that I didn’t glamorise it too much, and I think that came across. I also wanted to dispute some of the issues with ABO, and subvert the consent issues as much as I could. An arc I really ‘liked’ writing was how abuse doesn’t always look the same way, and that it can be a drawn out change in behaviour. How the most important part of ‘being a good parent’ isn’t perfection, but genuinely loving and doing the best you can for your kid. How love doesn’t solve everything, and effective communication can take a very long time to learn and build a functional relationship. I mean, there definitely was a lot I tried to put in, and you’re free to interpret it all how you want. But, I like to think some people learnt some of these things, at least. 

Daichi 

Honestly, Daichi developed almost of his own free will. I had a good idea of his appearance, and that he was smart. Writing him from birth until around nine years old (older if you read the sequel fic) pretty much allowed that fluidity. It was really fun to explore a nature vs nurture development, and let his own characteristics speak for themselves. 

He’ll always have a special place in my heart. 

This is the first image I ever made. When I was trying to figure out what Daichi looked like, I honestly just edited Karma’s hair (pretty well, actually? I’m impressed with my past skill). That’s where the ‘he looks just like Karma’ meme kind of came from. 

This was the first image I actually created of Daichi. I THINK it was on rinmaru games mega anime creator or something, but it’s literally not available on the internet anymore as far as I can tell, so I can’t double check. This was in the pre-piccrew days. His eyes are closed because they didn’t have the right tone of goldish/silver.  

His sister, Kaguya, didn’t even exist originally, even though I decided on that ending pretty early on. Actually, she was going to be called ‘Irina’ due to some hijinks. Initially, when Karma found out about Irina’s pregnancy, she was going to get super emotional and mad at him and basically force him to name his first born daughter after her. Karma agreed to shut her up, never intending to have another child, so when the surprise second child later came along they had to live with the pain. However, to be honest I just forgot to write in the actual scene that set it all up, and I decided against adding it anywhere else. The name Kaguya was a very last minute decision, and it was a chance for me to explore some ideas that didn’t fit with Daichi’s character. 

Interestingly too, Daichi and Nao were never intended to be a thing. I only decided that towards the VERY end. Even though the reason I named Nao that was because of a ship I had in a J Drama (Good Morning Call). It just kind of ended up happening because I won myself over with imagining the cute. 

The music 

I used to write with a lot of background music, though not all the time. Particularly towards the start, there was a lot that didn’t really make sense thematically, yet I would write to a lot. 

Here’s a link to the spotify playlist if you want it it’s basically all the ones I noted I’d listened to a lot. Not including the smut ones, though, I have a whole playlist for that. 

Some of the notable ones: 

Five String Serenade - the first scene I wrote of the entire fic, in Chapter 25 New Year Time where they fell asleep cuddling. 

Cosmic Love - when I wrote Nagisa’s love confession scene in hospital (I also wrote this pretty early on) 

Northern Downpour (though it was actually a cover by Emma Blackery) - The chapter after Daichi’s born (30) 

When The Party’s Over -  Confession Time Third Period, Chapter 69. I literally listened to this song on REPEAT when I planned and wrote the kind of ‘break up’ scene, and it’s one of the few parts that made me cry writing. 

Turning Page - I know I said no smut, but this song actually gave me the idea to have the “I love you” in chapter 108 be less on a whim and actually more built up. In the original plan, Karma really did just say it without thinking. I’m glad I changed that.  

Bury Me Low and Numb - pretty much all I listened to when writing the last few chapters, because Evil Nagisa core. So much so that Bury Me Low was in my top 2020 songs rewind. 

As for the title, there’s actually quite a funny story. I had no idea what to call the fic, and when that happens I usually just try and find some song lyrics. I really wanted to use something from ‘October’ by the Broken Bells. Not only because it’s my favourite song (has been for years), but thematically it really worked. The issue was, it worked as the WHOLE song, there were no individual lyrics that captured everything. And, if they did, they didn’t flow very well. And naming the fic ‘October’ would have been weird for a lot of reasons. There Is No Sweeter Innocence That Our Gentle Sin really was just plucked randomly, in a desperate search to find any snappy lyrics from any song that had some kind of meaning. After a bit of discussion, we settled that it kind of worked... if Daichi is innocent and they committed a sin or something. It also wasn’t the most obvious lyric from the song (Take Me To Church if anyone doesn’t know) so I just went with it. It works out, I think, because TINSITOGS turned out to be a pretty good acronym and pronounceable word in its own right.��

The merch  redbubble drama 

It’s a well known fact that I’m not very good at art. However, I decided to try pixel art because it seemed the easiest to not mess up. I made Karma and Nagisa, before deciding to also give Daichi a try. 

This, to this day, is the only good quality art of Daichi that I actually own. The only one I’m actually happy sharing and thinking it doesn’t look terrible. As much as I love people sending me fanart, it’s not ‘my property’, right. 

So, I was kind of joking about TINSITOGS having merchandise. At first I just made two funny quote things, and uploaded it to redbubble. I was never intending to actually make money from this, and I’d agreed to myself that if I did, I would just donate it to charity. I was joking with the quotes, but since I had this artwork I figured I may as well uploaded. Separately, there was also an image that had pixel Daichi next to pixel Nagisa and Karma (which I also created). 

Aside from showing up in a few people’s adverts across the internet, there was no real harm with this. In fact, I didn’t make money anyway. It was just... more the joke of it existing. I did, however, buy myself a Daichi phone case, which is one of my favourite possessions. 

The funny ‘drama’ comes in when they got taken down due to copywrite. Sure, the one with Nagisa and Karma, I understand. But the other three literally had no mention or anything to do with Assassination Classroom, aside from being from a fanfiction. So basically, someone who owns those rights claimed my OC as theirs. Which makes Daichi canon? Whatever the case, I found this hilarious don’t worry. 

How has TINSITOGS changed my life? 

This is quite a strange thing to think about. Because, in a lot of ways, it really hasn’t. As I’m sure a lot of people know, I don’t really consider myself to have any real ‘fame’, despite the impressive numbers. Whenever I tell people in my personal life, they seem to think I’m some sort of internet celebrity, but that’s never been the case for me. I mean, it’s hardly a cultural phenomenon. 

In a lot of ways, I’d much rather befriend someone than have them admire me. Possibly because being someone’s inspiration is kind of weird... I’m just an awkward duck who likes to write after all. I don’t mind it, though. I genuinely find it an honour, even if I don’t necessarily agree. I also want to take this time to say that if anyone ever wants to talk or message me, you’re more than free to do so. I’m usually super casual with people who do that, I promise. 

TINSITOGS was the first story I ever finished in the way I truly wanted to. Start to end, a full narrative. And it took a LOT. There were so many times I almost felt like quitting, or took super long breaks. For me, ADHD queen, actually finishing something was a huge deal. And I know I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t owe it to everyone who read it, and myself, to see it through. You know like, if I were to die tomorrow, at least I’ve left something behind. 

In a lot of ways, it’s changed me for the better. It’s helped me develop my writing styles, and way of thinking. It encouraged me to become more active in the fandom, and develop some important friendships. I always feel like my Tumblr and Fanfiction ‘known’ factor is separate. I think most of my Tumblr following is more to do with my theories/Japanese context research if anything, for example, but I know I wouldn’t be so interested in that if TINSITOGS hadn’t lead me to deeply examine character and really look into analysing source material for clues. I also think there’s just... a lot of myself in it. 

I was 17 years old, when I first came up with the idea. I finished the story when I was 20. Now, at the time of writing, I’m 21. That time has seen some pretty significant changes - just in general life facts and my own personal human development. For me at least, a lot of that was pretty turbulent, and TINSITOGS stands as a time capsule for that, in a way. 

I know I gained a lot of confidence, and it affirmed to me that writing is what I love. Telling stories and sharing them is what I love. 

Conclusion

Do I think TINSITOGS is an outstanding piece of writing, or the best fic ever? No. I really don’t. It’s strange to say because I definitely spent a lot of time on it, but it’s not like I put my full unbridled efforts into the story. I don’t fully plan, use a beta, or even read through on my own. And that’s okay - that’s not what I write fanfiction for. Fanfiction is my place to have fun with characters and stories I like, without the pressures of having to stand on my own complete originality. Yes, I’m fully confident that I can write at a “higher quality”, if I really wanted to. I’m also aware that some authors put their full effort into their fics, and that’s just as valid! 

It feels odd to say this about my own writing, but I honestly think there’s just something in this story. It might not be written in the best prose ever, and the premise might be kind of dumb for a lot of people. But, I think, there’s some part of this fic that managed to grab people. Somehow, at some point, many readers get captured into the emotions and so drawn in that ‘they just have to finish it now!’ Again, I’m not sure myself how I actually achieved that. Of course, that won’t apply to everyone, but I do feel there’s some truth in it. And it makes me happy, to have caused that. 

If TINSITOGS is your favourite fic, or if you genuinely think it’s the best story you’ve read, then thank you. I really appreciate your support, and I’m happy to have been a part of your life, I guess. I know how much fanfics can mean to a person, and that’s why I’m not going to take it down, or edit it at all. And it’s fine too, if you loved the fic for a while and moved on -i t happens. Whatever the case, I’m very honoured to have been able to occupy a moment of your life. Or if you find this fic in 10 years time, even, I still wholly appreciate you. 

This story was incredibly important to me, and thank you for reading if it was ever important to you too. 

You may ask, what now? Well, this is only intended to be a detailed look back for whoever’s interested, and it’s likely the only one I’ll actually do, a year after completion. Of course, if you ever want to ask me anything or just discuss the story, you’re honestly good to contact me in whatever way I have available. 

I’m still writing my ongoing stories, of course, despite taking a small break due to the university work load. I fully intend to complete the stories I’ve already started to tell, at least. After that... I’m not sure if I’ll still write fanfiction. Don’t panic, this isn’t a ‘I’m quitting writing’ thing. I may, however, have bled the Karmagisa genre a bit too dry at that point. Who knows? I am pretty interested in writing something original for once, so maybe that’ll work out. 

For now, at least, thank you to anyone who read this fic. To anyone who commented, liked, or interacted with me over it. To anyone who created or learnt from it. I’m really glad that I got to share this story with you all, and ultimately left some kind of mark, no matter how big or small. 

Happy birthday, TINSITOGS. I had a lot of fun writing you. 

[amythedvdhoarder]

Memories to Keep

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: You discover Bucky keeps diaries about his life, who knew they would change yours?

Warnings: Some swearing, little bit of angst and a whole load of fluff

Word count: 3K

A/N: (gif not mine) Ahhh the return to Bucky fluff. This is for the lovely @angelinathebook and her 300 challenge. I had the prompt “The memories I have with you, are the best memories I have.” I tried to be a little more creative with this one so I hope you like it.

Not beta read, any mistakes are my own.

Reblogs and feedback are most welcome, so let me know what you think x

Masterlist

xxx

An odd scratching noise woke you from your slumber. You squinted across the bed to see the bedside lamp on and your boyfriend still sat up in bed.

“Buck, what’s going on?” you murmured, still half asleep.

“Sorry doll, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Buck reached across and gently swiped his thumb across your cheek.

“ ‘s okay.” You pushed yourself up so that you leaning against the headboard, drawing your knees up so that you were mimicking Bucky. After rubbing your eyes and blinking a couple of times you looked across at him and spotted a notebook resting against his thighs and a pencil in his hand.

“So that was what the scratching sound was. I thought we had mice,” your voice wavering slightly as you stretched your arms out in front of you.

“Nope no mice doll, just writing,” he chuckled softly.

“We’ve been going out for 6 months and known you for 2 years. I don’t think I have ever seen you writing before.”

“I’m not surprised, you sleep like a log. I normally wait ‘til your asleep doll,” you elbowed him gently and he clutched his arm in mock hurt.

“Hey you know what I’m like if I don’t get my 8 hours.” Bucky rolled his eyes at you and grinned.

“Yeah I learnt that the hard way. I remember trying to get you up for breakfast after one of Tony’s parties, I was actually terrified you were going to murder me,” Bucky couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice.

“In my defence I was hungover and it was 8 in the morning, to be honest that was entirely your fault,” you yawned and leaned over to snuggle up against Bucky who lifted up his arm to let you get closer.

“What you writing anyway, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“You can ask me whatever you want doll, it’s um-” he scratched his head with the end of the pencil as he tried to find the right word “- a diary I guess, just stuff I don’t want to forget.”

Your brows furrowed together and you tilted your head up to look at him properly. “What do you mean forget?”

A sadness filled his eyes as he looked at you. “Um I know what it’s like not to remember things, if I keep a diary then if, you know the soldier ever got activated then –“ his words tailed off and he sighed heavily, “-it’s like an insurance policy. It took ages for me to remember everything before. There is stuff that’s happened recently that I can’t afford to forget.” There were tears in his eyes now, lips pressed into tight line.

You nuzzled into his chest, arm tightening around his stomach squeezing him gently. He leaned down and placed a kiss to the top of your head. “You know that’s not going to happen Buck, don’t you? Shuri made sure that would never happen.”

“I just can’t run the risk doll,” he placed another quick kiss and closed his notebook, the pencil marking his the page and put it on the bedside table. “I’m gonna get a drink, you want one?” You untangled yourself from his so he could get off the bed. You smiled and shook your head.

As Bucky expected you were asleep again. He picked up his notepad from where he had left it, gingerly clambered back into bed as to not wake you. After his finished writing his entry for the day he clicked of the lamp and curled himself around your body. Even in your sleep you instinctively moved, pushing your body against him and gripping onto the arm he had thrown over your waist.

Bucky knew he couldn’t live without you. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he would ever meet someone like you, that would let him in, treat him as normal person. He had never felt a love like it. Steve cared about him deeply and showed him every day. But you. He didn’t deserve you, the looks of adoration you aimed at him every time he walked into a room. He treasured every second he had ever spent with you even before you were together as a couple.

From the moment he had met you he knew there could never be anyone else. He had resigned himself to being your friend but when you had asked him out he could have exploded with joy. The thought of losing you made his chest tighten but he knew that one day something could come between you, that was part of the reason behind the diaries. He needed evidence that his time with you wasn’t just a dream but something real. Bucky had never imagined himself with a wife or kids or even a proper future until he met you. As he listened to your soft sighs as you slept he knew exactly what he had to do.

xxx

The other side of the bed was empty when you woke. As you stretched out like a starfish your fingers brushed up against a piece of paper. You took hold of it to see Bucky’s distinctive cursive writing on it.  

‘Sorry doll, didn’t want to wake you. Gone on an emergency mission should be back later tonight. Can you do something for me Y/N? (I’m gonna assume you’re going to agree J ) Please open my bedside cabinet?”

Quickly you climbed off the bed and knelt down in front of his bedside table and pulled open the door. Inside there was a small pile of leather-bound notebooks, similar to the one Bucky had been writing in last night. On top of these was another note.

‘These are all my journals from the last couple of years. Please read them and hopefully you will understand. I love you, B xxx”

So that is exactly what you did. You got yourself settled with a cup of tea and some snacks and hid yourself away in yours and Bucky’s room, knowing that it was the best place to avoid interruptions. The oldest of the books were written during Bucky’s time in Wakanda. It detailed the joy of having Steve back, making friends with Shuri and finding some acceptance of what he had been through and the reality of starting over again. He even hinted that birdbrain (Sam) didn’t seem too bad, he appreciated how loyal he had been to Steve and how he had sacrificed his own freedom for him.

When you got to the second book you found yourself reading about the first time you met Bucky.

Wakanda -  August 2018

Steve showed up and said the world is about to end. Surprisingly not the most interesting thing to happen today. A woman showed up with Steve, Y/N. No words would adequately describe her. She’s breath-taking and her smile lit up the room. I can still feel her hand in mine from when she shook me hand. There was no trace of fear when she introduced herself. Maybe she doesn’t know about me. All I know is before she showed up the end of the world didn’t seem too bad but now all I want is a chance to get to know her a little better. Steve better be wrong about tomorrow.

New York -  August 2022

5 years. I’ve lost 5 years of my life but on the upside the world didn’t actually end. Steve looks different; tired and there is a sadness to him. Y/N came and found me, turns out she wasn’t ‘dusted’. She said that the last five years had been awful. The world had changed and tried to move on as no one ever expected the team to succeed. But they hadn’t given up. She looks exactly the same as she did when I met her, which oddly was only yesterday for me but 5 years for her. Even covered in dirt and blood she was still the most beautiful person I have laid eyes on.

We sat and talked for hours whilst Steve was busy with the aftermath. I don’t think I have met anyone so easy to talk to, despite the day that she’d had she still managed to smile and laugh. Even though not much had happened to me in the grand scheme of things, she checked that I was alright and showed little concern for herself. When she left to find somewhere to sleep for the night she promised to catch me up on everything that had happened over the last 75 years. I never planned on re-joining the real world, I was just going to be a recluse and farm in Wakanda. Y/N makes me want more than that, is it possible that I can have a ‘normal’ life. Do I deserve it? All I know is that I haven’t been excited about anything for a long time, probably not since going to Coney Island with Steve. Now I am excited to start living again with Y/N as my guide.

You took a break at this point overwhelmed by what you were feeling. You could remember meeting Bucky for the first time; you had been so nervous. Steve had told you so much about him that you felt like you already knew him. Immediately you had been distracted by his eyes, they were impossibly blue and you could have spent hours looking into them. You had felt an immediate connection with him. But then of course Thanos happened and Bucky was ripped from your life before you even had chance to get to know him. All of the pain and challenges of those five years felt worth it the moment you saw Bucky again. You felt hopeful again. You had never known that he felt exactly the same way so early on.

For the next few hours you poured over Bucky’s journals, each page you turned your heart melting even more. As the diary entries moved on the content shifted. Most of what Bucky wrote was about the time he spent with you as you reintroduced him to the modern world. He outlined the moments where he realised he wanted more that friendship with you, the moments he started falling more and more in love with you. The first time you watched a film with him, the first time you ate lunch together, the first time you hugged him, your first date, your first kiss, the first time you admitted you loved each other. Each first was described in such detail you could see it all from his perspective. You had never felt so loved or in love with him. To anyone else this may seem a little obsessive or creepy but to you it made perfect sense. Bucky was afraid that one day he wouldn’t have his memories anymore, the thought of forgetting all the time he had spent with you terrified him. So, he wrote it all down to preserve it, that way he couldn’t forget everything, forget you.  

The fourth journal was the most recent. Bucky last entry was clearly the one he had started last night; the writing stopping midway through a sentence when you had clearly woken up and interrupted him. You flopped back onto the bed, your head landing on Bucky’s pillow, his diary clutched to your chest. Inhaling you took in that scent that was distinctly Bucky, a serene calmness washing over you. You weren’t sure why you did it but you turned to the next page. There was some writing there. Maybe Bucky had missed a page a while ago? You moved the page closer to your face so you could read it better. It was dated with today’s date.

Today is the day. I can’t wait any longer. You are the reason I still exist, you’re my everything. I realise that until I had you in my life I wasn’t living, simply existing. There is nothing in this world that I value more than the time we have spent together. The memories I have with you, are the best memories I have. With this in mind there’s one more thing I need to ask you to do doll.

Your eyes blurred with tears as you read the next line. Climbing off the bed, you quickly freshened up in the bathroom, pulled on some proper clothes and grabbed you bag before heading out the door. Bucky’s diary abandoned on the bed, open the last page he had written on.

xxx

Bucky headed straight for your room when he got back. He realised he had missed his time frame with it just having crept past midnight. This meant that you were likely in your room, curled up fast asleep in one of his t-shirts. He opened the door and noticed the light on, his diaries on the bed but worryingly you weren’t there. He glanced on the page that his diary had been left open and and immediately felt a wave of nausea. 

“FRIDAY, where is Y/N?” he said quietly.

“Miss Y/N is on the roof terrace Sargent Barnes.” He was already out of the door as FRIDAY finished her response.

He pushed open the doors and immediately spotted you leaning against the railings looking out over the city. Bucky’s heart was in his throat but as you turned and smiled at him, he felt instantly relieved.

“You’re late,” you teased.

Bucky covered the distance between you in a couple of long steps and went to wrap his arms around you but you stepped away. “Doll, come on. I missed you,” he pouted.

“I know, I missed you too but I have something to give you first,” you pulled the small leather-bound book out of the pocket of your trench coat and offered it to Bucky.

He took the book from your hand and inspected it with a look of utter confusion. “Doll isn’t this one of my books?”

“Nope, it’s new. I went out and bought it today,” you rolled your eyes at him. “Why don’t you open it?”

On the inside cover her spotted an inscription.  

To the love of my life,

From the first day I met you I knew I wanted to be in your life, whether that was as a friend, a lover or even a wife. Don’t ask me how I knew back then, maybe I didn’t, but every minute I spend with you just affirms what I know with all my heart. I can’t live without you James Barnes. I will spend every day showing you that because you are the best man I know. Today is the day you asked me to marry you and today is the day I say yes.

This book is for you to write down our memories, the ones created as husband and wife. Love always Y/N xxx

“Not factually correct anymore as you’re late,” you wiped away the tears that had slipped from your eyes.

He looked up at you, his own tears falling and his signature lopsided grin plastered to his face. “Doll, do you mean it?”

“Yes Bucky, I want to marry you. I’ve loved you for years, but reading your diaries-“ you sniffed as your emotions started to overwhelm you. “I love you, you’re –“ Your words were cut off when Bucky swept you up in his arms and swung you around, all the while peppering your face with butterfly kisses.

He finally put you down, one hand cupping your cheek and tilting your head up so that your watery eyes met his. “I love you. You’re my everything. I know I should have got on one knee and had a ring but I just couldn’t wait,” he was rambling now. “Shit, I shouldn’t have asked you by writing the question in a diary. I’m so-“

You stood up on your tiptoes and crashed you lips to his in an attempt to shut him up.

“Buck, it was perfect ok? I don’t care about a ring or a fancy proposal. I’m yours. I don’t need a piece of jewellery to know that. Plus, your way was a lot more romantic” He leaned his forehead against yours and sighed. “But, if it makes you feel better then ask me again,” you grinned.

He pulled away, placed the notebook carefully on the floor and got on one knee. “Y/N will you-“

“Yes” you blurted out. Bucky shook his head.

“You’re supposed to let me finish the question,” he chuckled. You mouthed sorry at him and pretended to zip up your lips.

“Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Easiest question I have ever been asked. Yes, I will marry you Bucky Barnes.”

As soon as he stood again his mouth was on yours, his hands lightly gripping the side of your face keeping you close. Instinctively your hand went up to rest on his chest as you sighed into the kiss. His lips were soft, and gentle. There was no sense urgency in the way your lips moved against each other’s. There was no need. You had all the time in the world.

Taglist is open so let me know if you want in or out

Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18 ,  @silentcoyotesong, @queenofstarliqht​, @buckys-henley​, @lonelyheartsm​ @alexa-lightwood-blog​, @angrythingstarlight​, @drabblewithfranny​, @rogueheretic555,​ @rebekahdawkins​

[justsomethingfromafilmilike]

Little Beginnings - Chapter 3: Day 3

(First chapter) (Previous chapter)  (AO3 Link)

A/N: so what kinda sucks about how I write long Fics like this is that I hop around with scenes and chapters(and in this case between 4 different works). I've probably written more for the sequels than for this one. (I'm gonna separate movies and pre-movies stuff meaning I'm gonna make this story a separate "work" than the fic for the movie events since this one is gonna be mostly happy and fluff the tags would get too long if i kept it as one long story.) I’ve also come up with ideas for a Post-Covanent Fic now so that puts the work total at 5 x.x

What I'm trying to say is I don't know how often I'll post updates to this story since instead of working on the next chapter I'm hopping around but it shouldn't take more than a week between updates. This is the most I’ve written in a very long time, I’ve written every day this month after… honestly at least a year and a half of maybe once a month writing ideas down only. I’m also making myself make each chapter at least 3k words each which I’m not going to force myself to do for the other parts of this series just this one.

Words: 3640 

David brushed a strand of hair from her face, a soft smile coming to his. Lowering himself to one knee he slowly leaned forward as he brought his face closer to hers. His finger hovered just above her lips and traced them in the air. He found himself leaning closer, eyes flicking from her lips to her still closed eyes. Looking for any subtle movement that would tell him she was waking. With his lips a breath away from hers he began to close his eyes. She shifted before they could touch and he shot up to a standing position, taking a step back with a frown. She shifted again before slowly opening her eyes, squinting slightly. A smile came to her face when she saw him and he smiled back.

"Morning," she said before rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"Good morning, I was just about to wake you."

---

He found himself watching her, just observing. If asked, he wouldn't be able to answer why. He watched her move around the cafeteria, watched her face as she spoke, his eyes lingered on her lips and his mind began to wander again. It had only been a kiss on the cheek but somehow it felt- it had made him feel… happy. Her lips were soft and warm but had seemed to burn where they connected with his cheek. He wondered what it would be like to-

"Are you listening? Hello," Rory chuckled as she waved a hand in front of his face and he snapped out of his daze, straightening in his seat slightly. He blinked and seemed as surprised as she was. "Lost ya there for a minute." She wasn't upset with him, her amused smile assured him of that. 

"I apologize."

"Everything alright?" she asked, tilting her head. The concern in her eyes made him smile.

"Yes. Everything is fine. You were saying?"

"Oh, I was asking if you wanted to have a movie marathon with me today. I don't know what movies we have but I'm sure we can find enough to make a marathon. I was thinking I pick one, you pick one, I pick, you pick," she said as she gestured back and forth between them. 

"That sounds like a wonderful idea."

"Great!" He liked how excited she looked; he liked when her eyes lit up in that way that made her whole face seem to glow.

"Any movies I should avoid?" he asked, remembering how she'd reacted to certain scenes in his favorite movie.

"Nah, pick the ones you want, just warn me about any bad scenes." 

"Alright."

---

They spent about an hour after breakfast going through the movies, cycling through the selection on the large screen, each adding to their own lists. David had his list planned out the moment they left the cafeteria as he knew the entire selection of films they had on board, but when Rory had handed him a piece of paper and pen with a big smile he didn't immediately fill it out; instead, he wrote the titles when they came to them. She was having fun going through them all with him and he enjoyed seeing her smile.

Unsurprisingly their lists were very different. Her list had more movies with happy endings, ones with romance, and many that were musicals or animated. Very rarely did a horror movie make it onto her list and very rarely did an overall happy movie make it onto his. They each had a lot of what would be considered classics, his tending to be on the older side - i.e. he had How to Steal a Million (1966) and Casablanca (1942) - while she had some that were still old but closer to the present than his choices - i.e. The Goonies (1985) and Labyrinth (1986).

…

"Okay, I have to ask cause otherwise I'm gonna feel weird about some of the movies I wanna add," Rory said. David frowned and tilted his head as he looked at her. "Movies with robots, androids, cyborgs, etc. more specifically movies where they’re either seen as bad or are the bad guy: yay or nay?"

"Let me pose an alternative question: movies where humans are either seen as bad or are the 'bad guys'... Yay or nay?" he asked with an amused smile but it faltered as he watched her frown and slouch a bit, as if she were trying to make herself smaller. "It won’t bother me," he said quickly. "I'm not angry with you, I was simply trying to show you how-"

"Stupid the question was?" she finished for him as she glanced at him briefly with a wince.

"How unnecessary it was," he corrected firmly, his brow furrowed. "I would not take offense if you picked a film where my kind are depicted as evil if you don't take offense when I pick a film where the humans are evil." Rory nodded. "It was not a stupid question." She nodded but couldn’t look at him. "I appreciate your concern about my… feelings on the matter. Thank you." He put his hand over hers gently. She smiled at him, finally meeting his eyes. He returned the smile giving her hand a slight squeeze before reluctantly taking his hand away. Rory started adding to her list.

“Be prepared for a bunch of cute robot movies.”

“I will prepare myself,” he said with a chuckle. Rory suddenly started chewing on her bottom lip as she stopped writing. “Yes?” he asked, tilting his head.

"If I ever did something or said something that offended you… you'd let me know, right?" she asked as she looked at him.

"There's no need to worry about-"

"You'd tell me, right?" she repeated, looking him in the eyes, leaning towards him. He tried not to smile at her 'serious face'.

"While I doubt you ever will, I would let you know, yes."

"Good," she said with a nod, relaxing. "Cause they do matter, ya know." He tilted his head. "Your feelings." David smiled and didn't realize how he'd been looking at her even after she looked away, blushing. He found himself blinking in confusion at her reaction.

...

"Okay, so we can't just hop around genres," she said as she put a third paper between their lists.

"We can't?"

"No, we should go by themes, maybe. That way we watch all the sad movies and cry our eyes out then we can move on to funny ones and cheer up again."

"I see."

"We could also make a pattern instead," she suggested. He nodded for her to continue. "Sad, happy, scary, then funny."

"What about ones that don't fit any of those categories?"

"Most films do, but we can have more than those four. Plus some fit into more than one, this is why we're discussing it," she added with a chuckle. “We should also pick some movies neither of us have seen.” He nodded. 

…

"Why did you put this one under sad?" He pointed.

"Because it is."

"There's a dog on the cover. I thought dogs are supposed to make people happy."

"Just trust me and make sure we have enough tissues."

"And this one, this is in a horror series but you put it under comedy."

"Because this movie in particular is a funny horror movie."

"But… it has 'bride' in the title, it's not also a romance?"

"Well kinda but it's more under the funny category."

"This film here," he pointed. "It's not a happy movie but you put it under romance."

"It is technically a romance."

"It is?"

"Have you ever seen it?"

"Yes… there's a lot of blood in it."

"It's still considered a kind of romance. It doesn't have to be happy or non-horror to be a romance." 

"And this one?" He pointed incredulously at the movie listed under it.

"Also a romance."

"But … he's a…"

"Just because he's not human doesn't mean she can't love him or that he can't love her." He opened his mouth to respond but soon closed it. 

…

"What's this movie?"

"It's about a boy." He chuckled.

"I'm afraid I will need more to go on than that."

"Well… it's about a boy named David, actually."

"Really?"

"Mhm."

"This boy… he is this ‘A.I.’ the title is referring to, I presume."

"I'm not gonna spoil it for you. You'll just have to wait and see."

"You placed it under sad…" he noted with a frown.

"I'm not going to spoil it. I will warn you though, I will cry. And then probably hug you a lot."

“I will prepare myself.” He tried not to smile.

…

“So this boy will live forever but he’s a human?”

“Well, he’s not immortal, he just never grows up. He can still die just not from old age. You’ve never heard of this story?”

“I only know of two Peters, I’m afraid.”

“Two?” Rory frowned. “I know who one of them is but who’s the other one?”

“Peter O’Toole.”

“Ah, right.”

…

“What are your thoughts on movies in black and white?” David asked. Rory shrugged.

“I like them; did you have one in mind?”

“Casablanca.”

“Oh, have you seen that one?”

“Not yet, no. Have you?”

“Nope but I know the general premise and a few well known parts of it.” 

“And how do you feel about subtitles?"

"Having them on screen in general or movies where I need them to understand?"

"This particular film is in Spanish." He pointed.

"Oh I know this one," Rory said. "I always thought it looked scary."

"There are some elements you may find… disturbing." 

"We'll save that for later tonight then." He looked thoughtful before he suddenly and quickly put his hand over her eyes. She laughed as she pulled his hand down so she could see him. "What are you doing?"

"Practicing," he said with a smile.

...

“You got a lot of movies about war times, huh?” Rory noted as she looked at his list.

“Have I?”

“Yeah, Murphy’s War, The Far Side of Paradise, Power Play … David?”

“Yes?” He didn’t look at her, especially after he saw her knowing smile out of the corner of his eye.

“Peter O’Toole stars in all of these.”

“Does he? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Mhm.”

---

As Rory went to get popcorn and tissues, David set up the first movie. She had said he could pick the first one they’d watch and apparently he'd picked a sad movie, hence the need for tissues. 

She came back with a full bowl, a box of tissues, and the blanket from her bed. She placed the box on the table, within arms reach, before she sat beside him on the couch. He hit start and the lights in the room automatically dimmed as the opening began to play. After pulling the blanket over both of them Rory put the bowl in her lap. David almost told her he didn't get cold and had no need for the blanket but stopped himself when their thighs touched and her shoulder brushed against his. He lifted his arm, allowing her to lean more against him, and put it over the back of the couch. If he'd had a physical heart he was sure it would be racing. 

About half an hour into the movie, he made the mistake of looking down as he reached for some popcorn. The loose sweater Rory wore over her tank top was pulled in just the right way that he had a clear view of, and down, her cleavage. He found he couldn't bring his eyes away.

It was not a lustful gaze, rather a curious one. He had never seen a naked woman in person, he had seen some in a few select movies, and while he knew what one looked like he couldn't help his mind wandering as his eyes followed the curve of the swell of her breasts down to the valley between them.

When Rory began to cry, he missed why - he'd missed about half of the movie - but he noted the man holding the protagonist as she wept; he slowly brought his arm down from the back of the couch to hold her. She didn't object and in fact moved closer to him for comfort. 

He missed the rest of the movie.

...

“Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether they could, they didn't stop to think if they should.”

“Do you think science should have made me?” David asked. Rory looked at him and saw a slight frown on his face as he watched the screen.

“I mean… If you mean do I think science should have made you to make you to be a… servant, for lack of a better term, then I’d say no.” He turned his head to look at her as she glanced at him. “But if you mean to have made you to be a person, it… that would be the same as you asking if my parents should have made me,” she finished. He looked back at the screen but a moment later looked back at her.

“I’m very glad your parents made you,” he said. She smiled up at him.

“And I’m glad you were made too. If either of us weren’t born then we’d never have met.”

“That statement is obvious.” His brows furrowed but his lips lifted in amusement. Rory let out a sigh and rolled her eyes.

“Okay, I could have worded it better but you know what I meant. I’m really glad I met you.” She nudged his side with her elbow. He chuckled slightly. 

“As am I.”

...

"I'm gonna warn you now, I will gross sob at this movie but it's one of my favorites."

"One of your favorite movies makes you cry?"

"Oh yeah. So don’t judge me for my ugly crying face."

“I don’t think it’s possible for that word to apply to your face,” he said without missing a beat and had to suppress a grin when she smiled and couldn't look at him.

“While that was super sweet, I’m still gonna cry.”

And cry she did. He should have expected it when the first 10 minutes of the movie revealed that the mother, of the 12-year-old main character, had terminal cancer. He found himself relating to the boy, Conor, in that he didn't understand the stories the monster told him. Not at first. 

“How can a prince be a murderer and loved by his people? How can an apothecary be evil-tempered but right-thinking? How can an invisible man make themselves more lonely by being seen?”

“I don’t know. Your stories never made any sense to me.”

“Because humans are complicated beasts.”

"Humans are complicated beasts," David muttered. He handed Rory another tissue and held her closer.

…

“I thought this boy could never grow old?”

“As long as he stayed in Neverland, yes, but in this movie he left.”

“Why?”

“He fell in love.”

“He gave up eternal youth for love?”

“Wouldn’t you?” she asked. He turned to look at her, which in turn made her look at him. She looked back at the screen trying to ignore the tingle in her cheeks. "I-I mean, I know I would." She gave a slight shrug. 

He found he couldn't pay attention to the movie.

…

"So the number… if it's high that's bad?" David asked.

"I mean… yeah? Personally I don't think so, and I certainly don't think it should rule her love life like this; it was a silly magazine article. It's all about circumstances anyway."

"Such as?"

"Well maybe she's had guys who cheated so she dumped them, maybe it's always been the guy who's ended it or at least more often than her. Maybe she doesn’t have the best taste in men and they were all jerks. If they were all relationships where it wasn’t her fault it ended then I don't think it's that bad."

"And if they weren't relationships?"

"I mean social norms say it's not good but it's her body and her life."

"I see… what is your number?" He noticed her face immediately flush red and she kinda sunk against the couch. 

"U-uh that's-"

"I'm sorry, that question was inappropriate," he said hastily.

"It's alright." She cleared her throat. "But um…" She slowly held up two fingers. David found he immediately envied these two people but didn't really understand why.

---

They had paused their marathon to have lunch before watching a few more then decided they would start the horror movies after dinner.

While Rory ate, David found himself distracted as he did his daily checks around the ship, as he did his lessons, and while he checked for any responses to the transmission the ship was broadcasting.

He almost didn't notice her enter the flight deck when she did. A quiet ‘hey’ made him look up over the hologram.

"You ready for scary movies?" Rory asked with a grin. She'd already changed into her pajamas, a tank top and loose shorts that came down to about mid-thigh.

"Just a moment," he said with a smile before he turned off the display in front of him. "Shall we?"

"Don't you want to get comfortable first?" she asked. He glanced down at his uniform before looking back at her pajamas.  

---

He changed into one of his T-shirts with the company logo on it but didn't have any other pants besides the ones of his uniform. The t-shirt was more comfortable than the uniform that was buttoned up to his neck. He could have worn the hoodie she'd given him but was honestly hoping that she'd hug him for comfort at least once and he'd be able to feel the warmth of her skin on his.

They resumed their previous positions on the couch though this time, without the bowl in her lap, Rory brought her legs over his lap like the first night they'd watched a movie. He put his arm around her back like before but no longer knew where to put his other arm. Last time he had let his arm simply rest on top of her legs, but they weren’t as bare last time. 

"Perhaps…" He suddenly picked her up as if she weighed nothing, making her squeak, and placed her on his lap before securing the blanket over the two of them. "How's that?" he asked as he leaned back against the couch with both his arms wrapped around her. If he had a heart the feel of her skin on his would surely be making it flutter. She chuckled, making him smile and relax as she settled against him.

"Great, now you can protect me from the scary stuff." He chuckled softly.

"They're only movies."

"Some movies are really scary," she mumbled with a pout. He smiled down at her. 

"Alright. I'll protect you from the… scary stuff." He brought his hand up to her eyes like he'd done before and she chuckled.

"Practicing?" He brought his hand down and smiled at her. 

…

“Are you horny?”

“I’m getting warmer.”

“Oh I get it now,” Rory said with a laugh. She noticed David tilting his head in question. “Ya know.” He blinked. “He had horns and she’s asking if he’s… it’s a pun.” His brow furrowed slightly. “Do you really not get it?”

“I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the term… I assume she didn't mean to reference his horns.”

“Well no… um. It’s another word for when you… when… Okay, think about what they’ve done in that tree house.”

“They had inter- oh.”

...

“I feel like we made a big jump in scary levels,” Rory said as she held onto the bicep of his arm. His other arm, around her back, was free to let him cover her eyes when needed even though she tended to hide her face against him.

“How so?”

“I mean the last one was gruesome yeah but we were on the side of the ‘scary thing’. This one is just terrifying.”

“In the last movie the man turned into a devil.” Rory pointed at the current movie.

“His dreams and nightmares come to life when he’s asleep. I mean, did you see that thing!”

“Real nightmares can’t hurt you.”

“The way that thing bent back-!” she stopped as he gently stroked the back of her head.

“It’s only a movie, Rory.”

“I know,” she muttered as she gently picked at the edge of his sleeve.

“I wouldn’t let it get you,” he said softly, the arm around her back unconsciously pulling her closer.

“That would be worse.” He looked down at her as she peeked up at him. “I wouldn’t want you to get taken instead.” He smiled and ran his hand over her hair once more before securing his arm back around her.

“Then I’ll make sure nothing gets either of us.”

---

They managed to get through three movies before David noticed Rory falling asleep. Her head against his shoulder, he almost didn't see her yawn as she did her best to hide it. He stopped her before she started the fourth movie and assured her they would continue their marathon another day after she'd gotten some sleep. She agreed after another yawn, to which he smiled. He lifted her along with her blanket, with ease, and ignored her protests that she could walk. She huffed and tucked her head under his chin making him chuckle. 

He gently placed her on her bed before fixing the blanket. She playful, and drowsily, swatted his hands away. He wished her goodnight and turned to leave.

"Hey David?" He turned to look down at her with a smile, head tilted slightly. She smiled up at him through half open eyes. "I don't think I ever said it but… thanks for waking me early." His smile grew.

"Of course. Sleep tight."

(Next Chapter)

[callunavulgari]

fic tag meme

I guess I was kind of inadvertently tagged by @wildehacked because they said to do it if you wanted to, and well, I was bored and needed something to do while watching Watcher Weekly+ so!

Name: Heather! Otherwise known as callunavulgari on all platforms. Except fanfiction.net. I have not gone back there to even consider changing it.

Fandoms: I am currently only actively writing fic for Buzzfeed Unsolved and The Adventure Zone (because I have no self control and finished the finale today). That said, I’m pretty actively involved in The Untamed, Buzzfeed Unsolved, The Magnus Archives, Hades, and Persona 5. But I also delve back into old fandoms constantly, so it’s really hard to say. Tropes: Enemies to lovers is my absolute favorite trope in the entire world. In fact, I think the only thing I like MORE than your garden variety enemies to lovers is FRIENDS to enemies to lovers. Because like, you’ve got the UST but you’ve also got ANGST and YEARNING. I’m just weak to it. 

I also really like fusion AUs, soulmate AUs, and canon-adjacent AUs where everything is the same except one or both parties is some kind of monster. Creature? I love myself a creature feature. Bonus points if it’s got political intrigue and killer world building. I’m sure there are others, but eh.

Fic I spent most time on: Probably either Rubatosis or when the wild grasses weave. 

Rubatosis was a Percy Jackson fic where Percy and Annabeth fall in love with Nico, aka the personification of death. Also, Annabeth is a serial killer. It is single-handedly my favorite thing I’ve ever written and I wrote it in a handful of months for the 2014 PJO Big Bang.

where the wild grasses weave, on the other hand, was a Spirited Away/Kingdom Hearts fic that I wrote for the Kingdom Hearts Big Bang like half a decade ago. It was an idea that I’d been toying with for awhile and the Big Bang gave me an excuse to finally do it. It explores the darker themes of Spirited Away and honestly, I’ve been meaning to go back and tinker with it for awhile because there are definitely parts that could be shaped up better.

Fic I spent least time on: Probably all the really short prompt fics that I’ve posted between now and 2010.

Longest fic: Also when the wild grasses weave, which is almost 43k. And if you know me, that’s a full 30k longer than the usual things I go for.

Shortest fic: nowhere to run is an Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier fanfiction that I wrote about a year after First Class came out in 2012. It is FORTY words and was written for a tumblr three-sentence meme. It was definitely only three sentences, but somehow managed to get 25 kudos and 5 comments anyway.

Most hits/kudos/comments/bookmarks: Top kudos/bookmarks/hits: i don't believe in fairy tales (but i believe in you and me), which was written on September 5th 2014 and is just over 3k of Derek accidentally getting a glimpse of Stiles’ penis. On his phone. It is the dick pic fic and it has 5239 kudos, 712 bookmarks, and 81,838 hits. I feel like the fact that this is my most popular fic should be upsetting since it took me like an hour to write. Top comments: Que Sera, Sera, which was written on June 14th 2014 and is almost 4k. It’s the second part of my Teen Wolf/Addams Family fusion and has 146 comments (most of which are people and not me, because I don’t typically respond to comments, which is a horrible failing on my part).  Favorite fic you’ve written: I actually have an Author's Favorites list on ao3, which needs pared down horribly because it’s got a bunch of really old fic that has not aged particularly well. Rubatosis is probably my favorite? Again, it’s definitely the one I’m proudest of.  wake up in a city that never sleeps was another PJO ot3 fic that I wrote where Percy is Nico’s TA and is also pretty up there. I do genuinely love the Teen Wolf/Addams fusion.  take me to church is one of my favorite Teen Wolf fics, mostly because it’s the soft epilogue that I wanted out of the show.

and i'm always tired, but never of you is a Bright Sessions ot3 fic where Sam and Mark cross paths with Damien years later and I’m really attached to that one. I don’t know. I go back and read these things sometimes and I remember that my writing isn’t like pulling nails all the time. That sometimes it’s really very good.

Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: A couple of the older Big Bang fics I would love to go back and rewrite just because when rereading I can tell where I was running out of time or where something should have been cut but wasn’t so I could pad the wordcount. I do eventually want to write at least one more part of the Teen Wolf/Addams series. And I kind of want to write a coda for that Bright Sessions ot3 that I mentioned.

Share a bit of a WIP:

Part of the Buzzfeed Unsolved tattoo AU that I’ve been working on since uh, Christmas. Whoops.

He’s getting ready to text the guy back to let him know that he’ll have to book another appointment when the bell sounds from the front of the door and someone spills through the doorway.

And look, Ryan had gone into this appointment with expectations. Four weeks ago, when the guy had first emailed inquiring about booking an appointment, Ryan had asked him what exactly he was looking for. He’d asked the usual questions, all pretty standard. Style, colors, if he had a preference when it came to the artist, if he had a hard limit on price. 

An hour later, Ryan found himself typing the sentence, ‘so when you say puppet…’ 

Ryan doesn’t really know what he’d expected. He’d done a couple marionettes. Faceless pinnochios. Skeletons dangling from razor wire. A character from Coraline. It was very ain’t no strings on me, complete with shadowy hands puppeting the faceless silhouettes. Creepy, but you know. Kind of cool. 

Precisely ten minutes after he hit send, the guy had ruined all of his expectations by typing back, ‘No, man. Like a muppet.’

He’d even included an attachment. So naturally, Ryan clicked on it.

The creature that looked back at him was monstrous, like a cross between Elmo and the Cookie Monster, its empty eyes dead and staring. It was wearing an outfit that made Ryan think of Indiana Jones, complete with a tiny hat and a miniature fanny pack. On anything else, the little outfit might be cute. 

As Ryan was pondering how to politely pass the job off to Mari, another email came through. This one, thankfully, did not include another attachment. The body of the email was blank. The subject line read simply: ‘He’s called The Professor.’

[birlcholtz]

78 for the prompt list? Whatever you're feeling for the ship

78. “You always find a way to surprise me.” from this prompt list!

here is nurseydex with a side of them managing their conflict way back in their frog year instead of having it explode in their junior year with dex constructing a studio apartment in the haus basement oops, this one managed to crack 3k words because once i wrote the first scene i had to keep going, so enjoy!! ao3

.

“You always find a way to surprise me,” Dex snaps. “What is this, pretend to sympathize with the gay kid and then make it all about you?”

Which is a dumb ass conclusion to get from Nursey trying to share feelings and empathize and shit. I told Dex I’m bi for this? “Chill, what the fuck? I was not making it about myself, I was trying to make it clear that I fucking understand how you feel.” And Nursey hates that his voice is starting to get a little louder, a little pitchier, but this is so like Dex, to take the first thing he thinks and run with it, and it’s kind of fucking upsetting because Nursey had just been letting himself think that maybe Dex and his fiery hair and his freckles and his smart mouth and his energy didn’t just fall into Nursey’s orbit in vain, that maybe this stupid crush he had on Dex (and the fiery hair and the freckles and the smart mouth and the energy) could go somewhere, and now, well, Dex has taken that bit of hope and stomped on it.

It’s something he’s very good at. Stomping on hope, that is. Nursey has watched Dex dismantle forwards’ goal-scoring ambitions like it’s as easy as breathing. He’s helped Dex do that, and Dex has helped him in return.

“That you understand how I feel? You have two moms, Nurse. You—” And then Dex blows all the air out of his lungs in one breath and half-turns away, enough that he’s not looking at Nursey, enough that Nursey can barely see his face. “It didn’t really help,” he adds, and Nursey is about to say ‘duh, thanks, Captain Obvious’ when Dex adds, slowly, “Um. But. You made an effort. Thank you? Sorry.”

“Uh?” Nursey manages. Both because of the quick 180 and because he’s never heard Dex sound so tentative in his life. He half-wonders if the Haus is going to fall down around them, because the Haus, like Dex’s general conviction in him being right, is an institution of the Samwell Men’s Hockey Team. If one can fall, so can the other. “You’re welcome?” And it comes out just as tentative from him as it did from Dex. “Sorry it wasn’t helpful. I thought it would be.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty clear,” Dex says, but without bite. “I appreciate you wanting to help, though.”

Okay, this is just too weird. “Sorry, did you wake up today and decide to just be a different person? I mean, I feel like this is an improvement, but if you’re actually just possessed by some sort of weird demon I might have to put a stop to things.”

Dex scrunches his nose up like he can’t decide whether to be angry or amused and says, “Uh, no. Well, kind of. My mom told me to try taking out my anger on the other team, not my own defense partner. Ironic, right?”

Considering that Dex’s mom’s blissfully ignorant questions about girlfriends had sparked Dex’s whole frustration-driven coming out to Nursey that morning, yes. Nursey nods. “But I’m glad you, like, felt like you could come out to me. Even though we fight all the time and shit.”

“Not on the ice, anymore,” Dex points out. Which is true. The first time they’d really clicked on the ice was during a game, with Samwell two points behind and Chowder, in the net, only just having recovered from a minor freak-out after the second period. The other team hadn’t scored at all, Wicks had gotten one goal, Bitty had gotten one, and Jack had gotten two, and Nursey had felt incredibly awkward afterwards as he realized how well he and Dex worked together if they actually, you know, worked together. 

Dex had probably realized that at the same time, because they’d managed to keep fighting during practice to a minimum.

Maybe it was only a matter of time until one of them figured out the same thing applied even when they didn’t have their skates on.

“Not on the ice,” Nursey agrees. “If we both try and fight the other team instead of each other, we probably stand a chance at not fighting at all.”

.

Three months later, Nursey discovers that was bullshit.

Sure, they’re doing better. They’re actually doing so much better that Coach Hall called them into his office to tell them he was proud of their progress, and once Nursey gave Dex a fist bump and pretended not to see Ransom and Holster silently losing their minds over it.

But they still fight. That’s just how things work with Nursey and Dex.

(He’s even getting used to hearing their names said together, as a pair, like RansomandHolster or OllieandWicks. Even if his and Dex’s friendship is much less… well, solid.)

“I can’t believe you actually like the top bunk,” Dex says, taking a bite out of his apple with more force than the situation calls for. “We’re the same height, how do you not hit your head every time you sit up?”

“I’m careful?” Nursey notices he’s not sure exactly when Chowder left the Haus kitchen. He definitely did, though, because all three of them came in together, but whatever, Chowder’s an adult, and Nursey has a debate to win. “Besides, if I have the bottom bunk I always wind up sitting in my bed doing homework and stuff—”

“Which is nice.”

“But then my brain associates being in bed with doing homework and not with sleeping and when I try to sleep I can’t because my brain is like oh, it’s time for… fucking Ovid or some shit.”

“And then you fall asleep because you skated suicides for half an hour and did planks on your breaks and had an entire hockey practice and then went to class for the whole day,” Dex says.

“No, then you stay awake for at least an hour because your brain is rehashing your entire seminar on Roman historians and then for good measure it goes through your entire life and shows you a greatest hits reel of your embarrassing moments, and then you can’t fall asleep because the people across the hall are having a party.” Nursey pauses. “I think I had a point in there somewhere but I got distracted talking about why falling asleep is hard.”

“Bunk beds,” Dex supplies.

“Right. So top bunks are ideal because then I can maintain the separation between work and sleep.”

“Like the separation of church and state.”

“Yes. Also no because that’s completely different.”

“But they are separations. You cannot deny that.”

Which is true. “I cannot.”

And Dex smiles a little at that and takes another bite out of his apple, and Nursey finds himself a little too absorbed in watching as Dex sticks the apple in his mouth and bites down to keep it there, then pulls out his laptop from his backpack and sets it on the kitchen table.

The apple looks dangerously close to falling out of Dex’s mouth, and Nursey stops himself from reaching out to take it before it lands on the floor.

It doesn’t, anyway. Dex gets his laptop open and then keeps eating his apple one-handed as he types something.

Becoming friends with Dex erased Nursey’s distant, unfortunate, aesthetic-driven crush on him, but it was quickly followed by something worse: a real crush. Because underneath the prickly exterior, when Dex is actually making an effort to get to know someone, he’s just… nice to be around. He worries about what other people think of him as much as Nursey does, even if he hides it in a different way. He cheerfully disagrees with Nursey on inane topics, and they get each other into long arguments with the same fervor— passion, Nursey’s brain supplies unsolicited— as the great Attic vs. Roaches debate, if not the same scale. Because it’s just Nursey and Dex, not the whole team. 

He kind of likes it that way.

.

Coming back to campus for pre-season means a couple of things. It means Nursey has to get back on a regular schedule, after doing pretty much nothing besides sleeping, working out, and relaxing. It means he gets on campus before most people, so he can move in in relative peace. And it means he sees his friends. He sees Dex.

It’s been a long summer. Nursey isn’t really sure how he’ll feel when he gets back to campus. At this point, he’s not even really sure what he’s hoping for— the idea of feeling secure in a platonic friendship with Dex and not having to worry about any crush-related feelings is tempting, sure, but Nursey feels like if he gets back to campus and Dex is just another friend, he will have lost something.

Or maybe that’s just the romantic in him talking. Either way, whatever happens happens and Nursey is just going to have to deal.

That mindset lasts all the way until he’s walking to the Haus after unpacking in his dorm room and hears someone yell “Nursey!” from behind him.

He turns around, and there’s Dex, barreling towards him with a lot more freckles and sun-kissed red hair and a t-shirt that is a little more snug than is probably decent and a huge smile, and Nursey has barely registered all of this before Dex catches up and hugs him.

Excuse me?

Even after Dex had come out— and Nursey doesn’t even know how many people on the team he’s out to, it doesn’t seem like many— he still hasn’t been a touchy person. Especially not to Nursey, barring fingers pointed in faces and things like that. And funnily enough, they’d touched each other even less once they stopped fighting all the time. But now…

Now, here they are, and Nursey would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t want to be here.

So he hugs back, and tries to keep his voice calm as he says, “Dex! Hey, man, how are you?” and hopes Dex can’t feel his heart hammering in his chest like if it beats fast enough it’ll convince Dex’s heart to match.

Fuck.

.

The night before Ransom, Holster, and Lardo’s graduation finds Nursey and Dex sitting in the Reading Room and talking options.

They’ve never shared a room before. They’ve shared spaces, and sometimes they both crash in Chowder’s room at the Haus after a kegster, and once Nursey brought Dex leftover pie while he was cramming for a midterm and wound up hanging out in his room for a while. That’s about it.

“If we do a bunk bed, we’ll have a lot more floor space,” Dex says. “And then you can have the top bunk you’ve always dreamed of. Although I’m still not sure I believe you about not falling out.”

“Aw, William, you remembered? I’m touched.” And Nursey tries his best to make sure that comes out sounding funny and not sad or wistful or anything like that.

This is something he’s considered, and then immediately decided to ignore. It will be harder to hide his crush on Dex if they live together. It’s already hard now, after a full year of spending more and more time together. Nursey has never appreciated plaid flannel shirts the way he does now, after mentally cataloguing Dex’s entire collection (he has eight, but don’t let that fool you, he wears the same three over and over and breaks out the other ones for special occasions). Every day he gets a little more worried that Dex will catch him staring and Nursey won’t think of a witty remark in time.

And it’s not just Dex he’s worried about, because Holster has definitely started to give Nursey Looks when he catches Nursey staring at Dex. Someone has clearly caught on to what’s going on, and the only good thing about it is that Holster hasn’t tried to say anything about it to him.

Well. Holster’s graduating, and next year Nursey will have a whole new crop of teammates who will be blissfully in the dark. And isn’t that a terrifying thought.

“I don’t want them to leave,” he says, but he doesn’t explain why.

Thankfully, Dex doesn’t ask. “I was just thinking that. But we’ll cope.” He says it so plainly, like it’s already a foregone conclusion. “Even if Bitty makes us get up at four AM for… what did he call them?”

“Soviet calisthenics.”

“Right. How could I forget?” And he smiles, and even though Nursey is pretending to look vaguely across the street in the direction of the LAX house, he sees it and he immediately wants to smile back.

So he does. What’s the harm?

“But anyway,” Dex says. “The room. I don’t think we can compete with Ollie and Wicks for interior design, Wicks showed me his Pinterest board and I’m pretty sure it was just to intimidate me? But it fucking worked, so. Let’s at least make our room a place we can both live in.”

“What was on the Pinterest board?” What aspects of interior design intimidate Dex, is what Nursey really wants to know, because he always wants to know everything there is to know about Dex. But he’ll settle for this clue instead.

“A chandelier and hand-knitted throw blankets. Also, shiplap.“ 

“I… only have a vague idea of what that is.”

“That’s okay, all you need to know is that it’s very popular on HGTV home makeovers.” Dex scoffs. “Waste of time and money if you ask me.”

And that’s so like Dex that Nursey can’t help but laugh and say, “I can’t believe I didn’t like you our first semester.” When Dex raises his eyebrows, he says, “Like, our opinions clashed and all of that, but you’re just so…” Passionate. There’s that fucking word again. Big nope. “Sure of yourself.” It had pissed Nursey off at the beginning, before he’d realized that most of Dex’s strongly held opinions were either correct or just… totally irrelevant to them being able to get along. Like the fucking bottom bunk thing. Dex is clearly wrong, he just hasn’t accepted it. 

Dex’s voice sounds a little odd when he says, “That doesn’t sound like a ‘but’, that sounds like another reason you didn’t like me.”

“More like… fuck. No, that’s not the right word to use, sorry.” Nursey’s going to have to fucking say ‘passionate’, isn’t he. The universe is against him right now, but he doesn’t know what that weird tone is in Dex’s voice and he doesn’t want to turn and look at him to find out. “Not sure of yourself. You’re just… when you care about something, you really care about it, you know? I admire that. Being… passionate.” Fuck, he said it. Fuck fuck fuck.

Dex’s voice still sounds strange when he says, “I admire you too, you know.”

And that makes Nursey whip around faster than he has ever turned in his life.

Dex is sitting cross legged, wearing his preferred red flannel, looking right at Nursey, and his face is flushing a little but he repeats, “I admire you too. Because you’re really dedicated to, like, growing as a person and shit. You want to be your best self. It makes me want to do that too.”

“…Thanks.”

With that, Nursey resigns himself to the conversation being over, but he hasn’t turned back to stare vaguely in the LAX house’s general direction before Dex says, fingers twisting in the hem of his flannel, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Nursey says, and hopes he won’t regret it.

“Is something wrong?”

“Huh?”

Dex stops twisting up the hem of his flannel and laces his fingers together like he’s trying to keep them still. Which he is, Nursey realizes, because fiddling with clothing is one of Dex’s nervous tics. (He has several.) “You haven’t wanted to hang out as much lately. And you seem stressed about something but I don’t know what it would be since our finals are done and our season’s done and everything. You don’t have to tell me the details, but… is there something I can do?”

Well. Nursey regrets this already. But… no better time to say things you might regret than in the middle of the night before leaving for an entire summer, right? Worst case scenario, all he has to do is get through the graduation ceremony, then he’ll be back in New York and he can text Dex sometime in July and say he’s over him. Even if it’s not true.

“Uh, there’s nothing wrong, really, but…” If he’s going to do it, he needs to be all-in. “Sorry about avoiding you, I don’t think I even consciously realized I was doing it? But I just… I’ve been really stressed about getting through next year. Because I’ve had a huge crush on you for like a year and I don’t know what’s going to happen next year if we’re living together and don’t look at me like that, I’ve been coping fine, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything, I just… Well, you asked,” Nursey finishes lamely, because he doesn’t know what to say to get that look of shock off Dex’s face. “Sorry.”

He waits for a moment before actually looking at Dex becomes too much, and he gets up to go inside. Coping with commencement and texting Dex he’s over him in July it is.

“Wait,” Dex says, urgency coloring his voice, and Nursey stops almost before he’s got the syllable out of his mouth.

And he turns around, and Dex is standing too, and he says, “There is something I can do.” And before Nursey can ask what, Dex continues, “I’ve been telling myself for months to just let it go away, but… I have had a crush on you for so long—” and then he stops abruptly, and Nursey doesn’t know what to think for a second, and then Dex says, “Sorry, I was going to call you Nursey but then I wasn’t sure if that was the right choice given the context so I just kind of froze?”

“Oh my god,” Nursey says, and that’s as far as he gets before he starts to laugh and also maybe tear up a little because he has been stressing about this ever since that dib flip. “We’re so dumb.”

“Complete idiots,” Dex agrees, and his voice sounds a little shaky, which just makes it match Nursey’s own. “Oh, God, I think I’m going to sit down.” And he sits back down, and Nursey joins him, only a lot closer than the careful two feet he had left between them earlier. “I am so glad I asked.”

“Speaking of asking things, what do we do now?”

“You mean about the room next year, or just in general?”

“Both, I guess.”

Dex contemplates it for a second. “I’m pretty sure we can handle sharing a room. Like, all we have to do is communicate with each other, right?”

“It’s been working pretty well everywhere else in our lives,” Nursey agrees.

“So that’s that for the room. And in general… I guess that just depends on what we want.”

Nursey considers that. “Well, what I want right now is to ask if I can kiss you, and I think the rest can wait until tomorrow.”

“That works for me,” Dex says, and he smiles when he pulls Nursey in for a kiss that feels like it validates every minute Nursey spent pining. He’d do it all again for another chance to throw his arms over Dex’s shoulders and pull him closer, and closer, and closer, until there’s no space between their bodies at all.

Nursey is pretty sure junior year is going to be great.

[prorevenge]

I end up working for the scammer who conned my parents.

So, this tale starts twelve years ago in 2007. Both my parents had retired at the same time and had received a large cash lump sum and would have a decent pension income for the rest of their lives. Dad was ex-Army, doing his national service and staying for another 8 years before travelling the world. He served with the Royal Engineers and moved into an engineering/maintenance role when he returned to the civillian life. Mum was a teacher, and with careful savings and multiple pensions they had more money coming in individually than I did in a salary.

The first thing they did was to renovate their house. They got several quotes for new windows, some minor building work, a new kitchen and a block-paved driveway. I helped them with researching the companies involved and with all the information at hand, they settled on a local company that we'll call Bad Company. Bad Company had membership of all the relevant professional bodies, had some good feedback and importantly was not the cheapest but their sales guy explained to my parents why a cheaper quote wasn't always better. They agreed on the £35k work and paid a 10% deposit. Work started, and they weren't asked for a single penny more until it had been completed. There were a couple of minor snags which were easily corrected, and it went £500 over budget due to the bad drainage of the house (something that had been mentioned before) but it looked satisfactory.

As it turned out, the windows had massive gaps in them that leaked water when it rained and you could actually hear the wind whistling through. Heating became expensive. Within a month, weeds and grass started poking through the block paved driveway and the electical work that was done in the new kitchen caused blown fuses if both ovens and the hob were turned on together. If you touched the plate around the light switch, you'd get an electric shock. After three months, water burst through the newly laid kitchen floor and the "Secured By Design" doors could simply be lifted out of their frame even when locked. We also noticed that they keys to the new doors were not the originals, and they were extremely difficult to lock especially as both parents had arthritis. The icing on the cake was that most of the windows were supposed to be argon filled, but the seals had already blown allowing air inside and condensation on the inside was apparent.

Dad asked a friend, Bob, to estimate the extra cost of fixing it. Bob said that to correct the now evident defects would cost nearly £20k as almost everything would have to be ripped out and re-done. Dad immediately contacted Bad Company, and the guy they sent round was rude, arrogant and blamed everything on the builders who had originally constructed the house doing a bad job. He wrote a report stating that none of the defects were down to the work carried out as the work had been done according to current best practices. That evening, one of the window frames fell out.

Dad spent a month after that trying to get Bad Company back to fix the issues, then he called all the regulatory bodies to find that Bad Company wasn't a member but just used the membership logos on their documentation. Around a year after the work was originally completed, Bad Company simply vanished. Phone numbers were disconnected emails bounced back and their office was now a conservatory showroom. Dad had already paid a well estabished window company £3k to fix the immediate window and door issues, and was left to pay another (much better) company £22k to fix the issues. This time we checked everything and made sure they were registered. We even got a warranty.

Cut to 2018, and I'm looking for a new job. Dad passed away quite unexpectedly in 2015 and Mum wasn't too good either (although she's a lot better now) so I needed a job closer to her house than the 2 hour commute to the next city that I currently had. As luck would have it, a local kitchen manufacturing company (lets call them Local Kitchens) was looking to expand and wanted an IT technician/developer. The pay was about £1k more a year than I was currently making, but I didn't have to spend £500 a month travelling to and from work (busses and trains are expensive). I interviewed, liked what I heard, and was accepted for the role. All the time, I thought that I somehow knew the boss of Local Kitchens.

Having worked in factory environments before, I arrived in a hi-viz vest, toecapped boots and with my own ear defenders. No-one else wore any P.P.E. - not even masks and goggles. When all the machinery ran, the factory floor hummed and buzzed along at a noise level of 105dB, well over the required minimum for wearing ear defenders or plugs. The boss, who we'll call John, also attempted to cut corners everywhere. My workstation was barely powerful enough to run the development software let alone the CAD/CAM software required. When the CPU fan died, he said that he couldn't afford to replace the fan. A new computer keyboard took 3 weeks to arrive and although we were paid on the 28th of each month, the pay was often not in the bank until 9pm, well after he had chased people who owed him money.

There were more lies that I uncovered, and bad business practices. It was like John had read a book on running a business then did the exact opposite. I spent the first six months between designing kitchens - something that I knew nothing about but suddenly fell under the remit of IT technician - maintaining the factory machines, driving the forklift (something that requires a specialist license that I don't hold) and doing IT work on his personal home computer equipment and mobile phones of him, his trophy wife, his kids and his parents. I also wrote several small computer programs, wired up the factory network, ensured that machinery could connect to the office computers and re-wrote most of the configuration for the industry specific software he used - which was not only unlicensed but also used on five separate machines despite the single (lapsed) license.

Also working at the company was Dad's friend Bob. Bob was a decade and a half older than me and had served his time "working the tools" making and fitting kitchens, bedrooms, and had spent a good fifteen years as a shopfitter on some very prestigious contracts. Bob was hired originally to do my job but he moved back to the manufacturing side when the expansion started as it was easier to employ an IT tech than it was a shopfitter. Bob had read an eulogy at Dad's funeral and was often round helping mum with bits around the house, so I knew Bob well and he looked after me at work. We got talking one day and I found out that Bob was earning less than me, even though he had a highly skilled and experienced role, and that despite being given more responsibility, John refused to pay Bob what Bob was worth.

Honestly, if Bob wasn't there, most of the knowledge was lost. Bob and I had frequently told John better ways to do key tasks, but John refused simply because there would be a small cash outlay. I should have seen the writing on the wall at that point, but no.

Running up to Christmas, John tells us all that he's giving us all a bonus, and will pay us early for the christmas to new year shutdown period. We soon discover though that the bonus was a £5 tub of sweets - which Bob can't eat because he has type 1 diabeties, and I can't eat because I have this really strange sugar allergy. I was going to mention it to John, but Bob tells me not to as it's Christmas and it will be something for my kids to enjoy. I actually ended up with three boxes of sweets because he over-ordered.

That day, despite being an IT technician, I had to chase an order with a company, order some materials from a supplier, and supervise a fitter as he attempted to install some new showroom units. John is nowhere to be found until just as we're about to leave. He asked Bob for a moment of his time and I go home.

The next day, Bob tells me that he and John talked until 7pm (an extra 3 hours) about the business. Bob was asked to invest £10k for a quick capital injection as winter is always a bad time for people buying kitchens, so income is slow but there are a number of large orders in the pipeline. Bob told him what he thought of the shady business practices and the poor management, and he said that he could walk out of this job today and be earning double before the year is out. He refused to invest. Other things were said, and Bob dropped the first bombshell, explaining that every job they did for a new client was actually making a loss. The new client had been Local Kitchens only revenue stream since mid October. Apparently John was genuinely shocked and didn't realise that it cost him £200 per hour just to run his business, jumping to £300 if the machinery is running.

The day before we're due to finish for Christmas, I get called into the nearly complete new showroom. I thought John was going to show me what needs finishing and which units need designing, but no. He's worked out the finances and states that there's only enough money to keep me on for another couple of months. He even tries to turn it around by saying that he's sorry and that I'm a good employee but the income isn't there, and he wanted to give me enough time to find something else. I felt my entire world crumble. The rest of the day was a daze, but just before I left, I overhear him ordering some materials from a supplier. His exact words were: Yes, it's John from Local Kitchens. You might have us down as Bad Company.

That's when all the pieces fell into place. It finally clicked why I knew his face. He was the one who scammed my parents.

The last day of work before Christmas arrives, and John had taken his family away over the christmas / new year period. We had to ensure that the factory was powered down, locked off and secure. No-one else wanted the responsibility so I volunteered. With only Bob and myself still left in the factory, I set about gathering evidence and investigating his finances. I already know about the losses, but digging deeper I find that the company actually has no cash flow. Everything is done on credit. His house, his wife's Range Rover, his Jaguar and several other assets are registered as company assets but they're all on finance through Local Kitchens. He owed at least £750k in credit, loans and mortgages.

Bob advised me against doing anything rash as it would only come back to me and agreed that John needed to be taught a lesson not just for the way he treated his empolyees, but for conning my parents and several others out of their life savings. Bob had found a set of files from 2005 to 2008 with customer complaints for shoddy work in the name of Bad Company. It was far too late to legally do anything about the complaints, but we could bring down John and his smug attitude. Bob suggested I read up on health and safety over christmas, and perform some observations in the new year.

January and February I spent making notes, taking photographs and researching legislation. By the time the end of February rolled around, I had a thick folder full of breaches of health and safety, environmental issues, data protection (or lack thereof) and the lack of software licensing. John was well aware of the software issue, but he said that "as long as the software keeps running, it'll be ok". I had emals from him to back this up, and requests for purchases of software and hardware that were turned down so he could dine out at fancy restaurants or stay in 4 star hotels.

My last day rolls around. I have a much better development job lined up thanks to some recruiter contacts I have, and as the current day was a Thursday and I didn't start my new job until Monday, I planned on sleeping in on Friday. John is strangely absent all day but arrives just as we're all leaving for the day. HE SAYS NOTHING as he watches me leave. I got the impression immediately that he wanted me to stay until Friday, but he said that my last day was "the end of the month" and not "Friday". Unsuprisingly, the pay is late. It's 10pm before it appears in the account.

I went to see my mum that evening and told her who my boss was, the way he simply cast me aside when he was done with me, and that I wanted to break him as revenge for the bad work and what we have always considered as a scam. Now, my mum is the sweetest lady you could ever meet, and I was completely shocked when she actually said "bury the bastard". She even let me use her garden incinerator to destroy the personal hand-written instructions that Bob and myself had created since I started. The knowledge of how to fix issues with the specialist software now only existed in our memories.

Friday rolls around, and I have no reason to get up early. My phone is ringing constantly becuase John is trying to get hold of me and it's soon evident that things are going south, rapidly. Bob sent me a text telling me that he gave John a final invoice at 8AM and walked out. Now, had this been petty revenge then the tale would have ended here with him not being able to use his business-critical unlicensed software, and hiring new people, but this is Pro revenge and my mother did tell me to "bury the bastard" so despite feeling sorry for the one other genuine employee that I had a lot of respect for, I enacted my totally legal if not a little underhanded plan.

I reported Local Kitchens and John to the Federation against Software Theft for illegal use of licensed software, giving them information regarding which software was illegally used and how. Just to be safe, I also reported them directly to those software companies too. I supplied the emails as evidence where I had explained to John that he was breaking the law by not having the correct and valid licenses.

I then called a friend at the local government Health and Safety team, reporting no fewer than thirty rule breaches, sending him the supporting images and video. One of Local Kitchens professional memberships had lapsed, but John was still using the logo on paperwork, email signatures, website and the company van, in addition to the signage on the building. I reported that to the professional body in question. I honesly considered reporting GDPR breaches, but I don't think that he had done anything that could be considered a breach.

A week later, John sent me a message stating that If I was still looking for work, he would pay me £50 per day to do "IT work" for him. It came across as if he was trying to do me a favour. I told him that I was previously on £90 per day, but as I was now a freelance contractor, the going rate was closer to £200 per day. He didn't send me another message.

Three weeks later, and the showroom saleswoman - who we'll call Jane (the one remaining staff member I respected) called me to tell me that John had closed Local Kitchens and declared bankruptcy owing nearly a million pounds. I asked about fines, and she said that Health and Safety were behind a building closure which stopped production causing the bankruptcy. In the same week, he had legal notices for illegal software.

As this unfolded, I kept Bob in the loop and Jane kept me informed. As of the start of July, the final figure for fines was levied. £932k debts to the business, £876k fines too. On that same day, purely by chance I was helping a friend deliver pizza and John placed an order My friend was driving and doing the shop work, and I was going to the door to hand the food over, so I actually got to deliver his food. He was nice enough to me when he opened the door, and stated that if I had done the extra "IT Work" for him then I wouldn't have to deliver pizza. I told him that it was what it was, and questioned the fact that there was only enough for 1 meal - didn't his wife like pizza? He told me that she'd left him and taken the kids back to her parents, and that he wasn't OK with that but he had no choice. I agreed, an then decided to twist the knife even more.

I told him that it was a good job he got rid of me when he did, because I now had a fantastic well-paid job that I'm good at, and that if I had stayed, then I would have brought myself down as well as him. That's when he realised that I had called in all the agencies that had eventually shut him down. He demanded to know why, as he had "given me everything" and "taught me how to work in the kitchen industry". I simply replied with my parents address and the year 2007. I saw the colour drain from his face as he realised that his past had caught up with him. Then I told him how much he had to pay on his pizza, and he threw £40 at me and snatched the food out of my hands, slamming the door in my face. His food was only £21.50, so I got a nice £18.50 tip from him that night.

(source) story by (/u/tac-21a)

[cdelphiki]

So how does Scrivener work cdelphiki? Any specifics? I think you talked about it a fair bit before, early in November, but I can't quite remember.

Scrivener is awesome!! Basically, it’s a word processor on steroids specifically for writers (and not student/business purposes, like Microsoft Word/Google Docs) Although you can use it for student or business purposes, if you wanted.  

Basically, you use it by first creating your project. It has a lot of templates to choose from, and once you pick what you want to do, it has instructions of how to structure your project in your newly created file.  There are a ton of template options, but I’m here for the novel format: 

But you can write pretty much anything you can imagine in scrivener.  

Pick what you want and click “choose” then save it somewhere. I have the app for ipads/iphones, so I save all my projects on dropbox so I can access them from my phone or computer. (This is how scrivener is set up for synced across platforms: over dropbox, not icloud for mac users. It took me a hot minute to figure out.) It has you name and save it up front so it can start backing up your work!!

Once it’s got the project created, it will give you the informational page for the template you selected. Read through it for a lot of good information on how to use all the organizational tools for your specific project. 

Now you basically just start working. There is no real wrong way to go about putting together your story.  I use scrivener for both one shots and multi-chaptered fics.  I actually keep most my one shots in one project, titled “Tumblr Prompts,” just to make it easier than having a zillion project files for single stories.  

If you want a pretty detailed walkthrough of how I use scrivener, I put it all below the cut. :D

Here’s one of my my well-used project files: 

There’s a lot going on here. The left column is your navigation bar. This is basically your entire book. As you can see I have folders within folders. The main one, called “Manuscript” by default, is basically the book in its entirety. I then use more folders for each chapter.  Right now, since I’m still drafting, I actually just have it broken into ‘events,’ rather than chapters. This is just a me thing and is what I figured out to help me keep better track of everything. 

So I have the Prologue, and then event 1.1 (act 1, event 1), 1.2, 1.3, etc.  In 1.3, as you can see, I have both chapter 3 and 4 as scene cards.  1.4 has five scene cards that will likely turn into 7 chapters, once I do a revision! 

All the various colors of text are revisions.  By default, the first draft is written in black.  

When you’re ready to do a revision, you can turn on revision mode and select which version you’re on. I’m on my third revision. I really like this function because it lets me see my progress. 

Now, inside all these folders you can see a couple different symbols there.  You can actually change the symbols of these things yourself by right clicking on the object in the navigation pane and selecting “change icon.”  I put the pencil on all my notes, so it’s very easy for me to know what to get rid of when I’m cleaning up and about to call something “done.” On Precedent, for example, whenever I publish a chapter, I go ahead and name the chapter folder in Scrivener and get rid of all the note cards so all that is left is what I actually published.  

Probably one of the best things about Scrivener, is when you want to get rid of something, you don’t have to erase it entirely.  On this project here, you can see I have a file a couple under the file selected for viewing called “trash pile.”  Whenever I remove large chunks of text, I actually just copy it over to a blank scene card so it’s not ‘lost.’  I then “move to trash,” so it’s not in the way, but it’s always available to me.  Scrivener does not delete anything you ‘move to trash’ unless you specifically move to that trash bin and make it delete it.  This is great because I can’t tell you how many times I’ve ‘thrown something away’ just to realize, sometimes months later, that that exact scene would work perfectly now! And good thing I saved the draft, so I had something to start with!  

Now, back to these ‘scene’ cards.  Scene cards are just the files you actually write on. I don’t know if Scrivener calls them that or not, but they’re set up like notecards. I don’t know if you ever did the notecard method in school, where you wrote major points on note cards and then arranged them into a logical order on the table? That’s basically what this is. 

To get to this screen, I selected the folder for section 1.4.  You can pick any folder you want, even the over all manuscript to get here.  Then you pick the view option, where the top arrow is pointing.  The first view option shows it as a document, as my other pictures have already demonstrated. 

What the notecards are going to show you is your synopsis, if you have one written.  Each and every file, even the folder itself, has a spot for ‘synopsis’ and ‘notes,’ which do not count into your overall word count.  It’s really nice for keeping stuff out of the way.  I’ve found I prefer having my notes as actual scene cards, but the notes section is handy for throwing important things.  I also save the link to where I’ve posted stuff on tumblr for easy saving or research so I don’t lose anything.  

If you do not have anything written in the synopsis section, the card will just show as much as the text as it can in a dark grey, rather than the black ink of the synopsis.  I rarely use the synopsis section, so you can see all my documents just have the first bits of text.  

On this screen you can start dragging around cards and move them however you think things need to line up.  This works remarkably well if you write in a lot of small scenes, and need to reorganize because you realized that Tim needs to have a panic attack before he faces Ra’s.  Or whatever.  You can also reorganize at any point in the navigation pane itself.  I drag stuff between folders all the time.  That’s another reason I love having my notes on actual scene cards, because a lot of times I end up punting scenes off into the future, and it makes it way easier to drag and drop it into the next chapter folder to deal with later.  

Another feature I really like is ‘targets.’ 

To get here, I selected the overall manuscript, and then switched to the third view option, up there next to the note cards option.  It shows me my whole book this way, as well as the status of each folder or document (which I have to set myself.)  It also shows me if I had a target word count, and how close I am to reaching it.  I like my chapters to be about 3k words, so I make that my target. (set your target by clicking on the target icon on the bottom right corner of a document while in document view.)  The purple goes from a dark purple to a lighter one the closer you get. (This is because I am using the ‘theme’ “Purple Haze.” The color is based on your theme. I forget what the default is.)

You can also set daily word goals, and up at the top, below the project’s name, it’ll show you progress toward that goal. I’ve written two words today.... so I don’t have a progress bar yet.  The bar above the project’s name is for the overall word goal set. I have this project set to 100k. 

I think that’s pretty much it.  The only other feature I use regularly I haven’t mentioned is the split screen.  

Basically, click where the arrows are pointing. When you’re in just regular view, it’ll look like a split screen, rather than a single document view button.  When you hit it, it opens your currently selected document twice, on both sides of the screen. Click on the bar for the document you want to change and then select whatever you want from your navigation pane.  I use this mostly for putting my notes on one side and my actual working document on the other. Yesterday I was using while revising, throwing anything I didn’t want anymore into my ‘trash pile’ by just dragging it across.  

Once you’re done with something, you can run spelling and grammar check (because it does not check as you go, unless you go into settings and make it do that. It’s turned off by default. I find the squiggly lines distracting, so I love this feature) and use the various text tidying tools, such as the one that turns all multiple spaces into single spaces! 

So yeah! That’s Scrivener. I love it so much. It has made writing so much easier. I wrote most of Life Happens in a single Microsoft Word document, and that was a huge mess and horrible and really difficult. I’ve written two long fics in their entirety now on Scrivener and I won’t ever go back.  

Oh, and if anyone was curious, this is how I use Scrivener for my one shots: I just label the folders with the main relationship or the collection they’re from, rather than treated the folders like chapters.  I then name the scene cards either with their actual titles or a brief description (if I didn’t give them titles) to let me know what’s been published and what isn’t done.  

[melforbes]

what's been your favorite part of writing seaglass blue? is there a part in particular that you couldn't wait to write? is there one you were avoiding?

to be honest i am 100% flying by the seat of my pants with this which right now is out of character so i haven’t exactly gotten to the dreaded parts yet lmao

i have an ending in mind (and a final line) that i really like but that i have a gut feeling no one else will like but i’m not compromising with it and i’m a little nervous to post that eventually. i’m not nervous about writing it but i don’t think it will necessarily come across well. Like it feels a little end of the sopranos but also it’s not like that at all but it’s the same existential vibe if that makes sense. which it doesn’t at all. but still

i actively avoid dialogue because it’s not my strong suit. i also can’t get the Mulder Voice right (deadpan snark etc) and then throwing in Big Feelings i’m just so out of my element

so far i shockingly haven’t dreaded writing any part of it. i did end up blocked with this last chapter because i hadn’t entirely decided what to do with the plot and the plot i’d thought through and didn’t actually use (and lmao have since forgotten!) just was not working at all so i didn’t write and instead did the whole running in circles thinking it through thing that isn’t writing (i recommend reading atomic habits by james clear ahaha! that running in circles motion gets a massive drag in there) that ultimately was never fruitful AND EITHER WAY i started a new drug for the other side of my life and it gave me wicked insomnia and at two am everything righted itself so i finally figured out where i was going. But that being said i never really dreaded it even though i oftentimes dread a scene or two in most chapters i write and i think the lack of dread comes from how it’s all set up in a very cozy way and it’s hard to dread something like that

i couldn’t wait to write the wedding which is why i dive into it so quickly. And i really wanted to interject parts of their “wedding night” or afternoon or whatever because those were my favorite moments to visualize. there’s another part down the line that i can’t wait to write but i also can’t spoil that haha. i think like...the most anticipated stuff i have coming up for the next chapter (or maybe the one after that depending on how the wordcount shakes out) is a specific conversation about specific things that happens in the dark. and uh i will not elaborate beyond that aldskjasldkjfdalsgj

my favorite part of writing it. this answer is so disjointed i’m sorry. i’ll put the rest of this under a cut because i’m rambling ahaha

my favorite part of writing it has been like...i think this is a multitude of things which is why i wrote msr again after a long unintentional break from it. idk if i ever really mentioned this (or at least if i mentioned it recently) but i started writing msr here in mid 2016 to rekindle my passion for writing while i was very very ill long term, and that culminated in the “everyday msr” archive i have on my ao3, which thus was a log of self-comfort in hard times as well as (unintentionally) documentation of how i neurologically healed during that treatment. so, bizarre. i was in a hard place back then and writing helped me keep my head screwed on straight, and luckily with msr you can write the shittiest things and someone will still be genuinely happy to read it and will look past any lack of talent or training or experience or anything and instead see you, someone having an idea and offering it to others, sharing something for the sake of feeling something good together. that (combined with my own personal gratification of having done something) really helped me emotionally during that time. like when you can’t be of service to anyone in the world, barely even to yourself, it’s really reassuring to hear “i was having a hard day today and this small thing you did eased me” and know that they didn’t need quality or exceptional talent; they just needed you to show up. i’m getting off topic but all of this is a roundabout way to say that i’m essentially back in that same place right now and have been for the past little over a year and like. It’s bullshit ahaha. like it’s absolute bullshit. But it’s strangely valuable to have this like...same connection as i had last time, just in a bit of a different way. it’s still msr, it’s still a kind of Happy Place for me, but there’s an overarching plot, i have other stuff that i write too, etc. but still, i appreciate being able to go back to an original comfort and form that comfort in the same way. the “everyday msr” stuff was intended to be just extended written-out headcanons about domestic msr post iwtb or post revival #1 that i could write in one sitting, and this isn’t entirely different from that; it’s just that the domesticity has a twist and a different era. but it’s the same stuff as before - pictures of misty places, gentle music, living based on the season, being a homebody, cooking for your lover, natural beauty. it’s nice to return to that place right now

another favorite part of writing this is that maine was an important part of my childhood. my family spent a week of vacation there each year (outside of bar harbor, not on mdi but right outside of it) and i kind of associate that purity with it. it feels like one of the only elements of childhood that i haven’t found adulthood corrupting. like we learn that disneyland is just a capitalist hellhole and whatnot when we’re older but maine hasn’t been ruined for me yet and i treasure that. And having them there feels special as a result. i very much on purpose didn’t label a town they’re in (or even base where they are on a real one lol all of that is glossed over enough anyway that i’m not worried about it) but it felt important and right for them to be in maine. it feels special to tap into the very brief time that i shared with the show while i was still a part of its cultural landscape. that sentence makes no sense. in other words i was born in 1997 ahaha. but either way like...i get to people this place that is already special to me and give them love and safety within it and that feels good in a way that i’m struggling to describe. And also i could go on some stupid rant about how Cell Phones Hurt Our Social Circles or whatever but i do genuinely miss rental houses that got 10 blurry channels on rabbit-eared tin foil televisions in a day and age when you normally got way more than that, all while you’re in an era in which boredom is still normal enough that all of that means “well, no tv for this week i guess!” and then you play a board game instead. it feels good to voluntarily create a place like that, then ask in my own life, why don’t i just live like this? And then to struggle through plotting something because there’s no digital numbing with television and smartphones and whatnot, and to understand my own hesitation, and to explore that a little more whether or not it’s in writing

another favorite part (yes i will in fact keep going!) is that the writing style is a little bit atypical from my current norm which allows me certain freedoms that i haven’t really opted for in a while. on the off chance that anyone has read any of my other recent stuff (though this is...a very small chance ahaha) it’s clear that these chapters are much shorter and less prose-heavy than my other stuff is, and that’s really helpful in that editing it is much simpler and writing it happens much quicker. if life were predictable and i had better self-discipline (and better health! can’t discount that one haha) then i could easily get a chapter out every weeks, in comparison to other stuff that i updated once every three months. i’m trying to keep each chapter to being about 3k in length (which they seem to naturally tend toward anyways, i didn’t create that metric so much as just went along with it) and there aren’t frequent “flashback sequences” (there are callbacks and past things brought up, but they’re not significant portions of chapters that go back and forth in timelines and make a nonlinear plot, the linear plot dominates and each scene is more or less in chronological order even if there are callbacks) so i’m not too worried about pacing or structure or anything like that. i never set out to make it “simple” i think it reads better this way and i appreciate that a lot because i can take a break from other stuff that’s a bit more jagged and just do this instead. it’s also nice to write something that i feel is more on the readable side than other things. i think my biggest inspirations for this (which i realized accidentally with the “he wants to brush her hair” line ahaha) were our souls at night and the sunlit night, both of which have a kind of dainty prose style and are a little low on long descriptions but can say a lot with one simple sentence. recently i’ve focused a lot more about darker subject matter and uglier parts of humanity so it’s nice to be able to focus on something that i feel like matters and has a more readable quality to it without actually sacrificing anything in the process or trying to dumb something down

so i think that’s it! that’s my thoughts! this is too long and far too personal! haha!