It just makes so much sense that you were writing in 2013, you have the unhinged vibe that the golden fics from that era had.

I'm just here to compliment you really lol, mostly because I am giving a try to write a lil something for the first time and god I can only dream of ever being able to write as good as you. I've been writing poems and music for years now but i find writing actual coherent storys with characters and dialogue so so hard.

I was wondering if you have any tips, or like little rules you follow when you write.

all the love, xxx

🌷

I'M GONNA CRYYYY this was the sweetest thing in the world to wake up to wtf wtf <333 thank you SO much, i really appreciate this wahh my heart :'))) but also you are SILLY. don't compare yourself to others!! if we all did that constantly we'd never get anything written!! there are SO many authors i adore on here that will always have me chasing the "i wish i could write like that" feeling and it's a great motivator but alsooo at the end of the day. you gotta fall in love with your own words and characters and stories <33

and i feel that so much!! we are twinsss, i also started out writing poems and music and then realized i had stories i wanted to tell that wouldn't fit in shorter form, then discovered fanfic in middle school in the early '10s and it was all downhill from there LOL. truly such a golden era tho oh my god. growing up reading the hat fic and borderline illegible wattpad stories was certainly... formative!

yapping ahead vv (i don't have much advice bc i'm still just learning as i go but hopefully some stuff i picked up on can be a bit helpful!)

i have zero method to the madness when writing so it's a relief to know it doesn't come off that way LOL but i do have a few little things that i follow and i always look for them when beta–ing as well! they're pretty small technical things and they're generally up to personal preference, but some of them come from authors i admire and i think they can really take anyone's writing up a notch <3

i don't feel qualified to give advice because i'm just raw–dogging everything lmao i've never taken classes or anything, so take all this yapping with a grain of salt bc it's just what's worked for me!

– i try to use descriptors like "the man" or "the blond" or "his friend" etc sparingly. i wish i could remember the source, but i read a great piece about why it's better to just go with the character's name 99% of the time, and then i went through so many of my works to edit them and i felt so much more confident in my writing afterwards– it made a big difference in readability (imo).

ofc there are exceptions, like if the name of a character is unknown, or if there are too many names being thrown around in one sentence and a "the man" or "the soldier" etc just sits nicer. i definitely still use them occasionally! but it does sometimes put some distance between the reader and the story when those descriptors are used too often instead of names, so it's a good thing to keep an eye out for when it comes to flow. sometimes less or more or whateva ??

– sorta on the topic of less is more, i love challenging myself to show vs tell when i can! whether it's by keeping dialogue short and letting actions speak instead (can add to intimacy/realism– we communicate so much through body language yk), through metaphors (literally how my whole '#john egan is dog coded' fic was born LOL), or describing feelings rather than spelling them out (his heart ached vs he was sad, his pulse raced vs he was scared, you get the gist). you said you've been writing poems so i feel like stuff like that would already probably come easily to you tho! <3

– this guide on ao3 is great for smut writers! whether someone's a beginner or just looking for ways to elevate the filth, i found it really helpful, it's a fun read as well lol. it calls out stereotypes/cliches and teaches you how to reword them, gives lists of slang and reactionary words, do's and don't's, etc. i don't follow everything in it but that's the beauty of writing; we all have things that work for us and things that don't and that's so okay. :-)

– in the same way that artists use references to practice and find their style, you can do that with writing too! i know a lot of writers have a doc or note where they jot down stylistic things they find while reading that they'd like to emanate, or words they want to use, specific phrases, descriptors, etc. if i'm reading a fic and find an auditory descriptor i like, i might take note of it, stuff like that. sorta like a text document version of a pinterest board!

– thesaurus.com is my best friend truly. often going with the 'simplest' version of a word makes for smoothest reading so someone isn't taken out of the story being like wtf does that word mean lol but sometimes things can feel repetitive, or like there just needs to be a little bit more spice; i probs go back and forth btwn my doc and thesaurus a dozen times an hour tbh.

that's all i can think of rn and ik those are pretty basic so i'm sorry about that!! i really do just kinda write what evokes emotions in myself, and then i hit post and hope it translates over to whoever is reading too :') drawing from your own experiences if you can/really sitting with what the characters would be feeling in whatever scenario you're writing is probably the most powerful way to present what you see in your mind.

i have a hard time writing about emotions/things i haven't personally experienced, so i usually stray away from it out of fear of not getting across what i want to, but some people are great at winging it and putting themselves in unfamiliar shoes so!! it's again just personal preference really.

and alsooo be kind to yourself! i'm an anxious wreck every time i post any of my writing, i am very much not confident when posting new fics and i agonize over my docs so much and trash a lot of works, but i know at the end of the day i can't grow or learn if i don't get the words down, and i can't get feedback or gain confidence if i don't post. becoming your own hype man and giving yourself the opportunity to improve is essential <33

sooo much love and best of luck!!! lmk if you end up writing smth, i'd love to read it (◠‿◠✿)

I posted 106 times in 2022

That's 106 more posts than 2021!

38 posts created (36%)

68 posts reblogged (64%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@lumi-procrastinate

@anovainspace

@procrastinatinglumi

@spiritmdraws

@earthtonova

I tagged 80 of my posts in 2022

Only 25% of my posts had no tags

#memory!sans - 35 posts

#memorytale - 22 posts

#undertale alternate universe - 21 posts

#alternate universe - 17 posts

#sans au - 17 posts

#sans oc - 16 posts

#undertale au - 14 posts

#utmv - 6 posts

#rebloop - 6 posts

#ask response - 6 posts

Longest Tag: 84 characters

#my parents legit laughed at me when i proposed the idea of me being an artist/writer

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

WOOOO I'VE DONE SOMETHING PRODUCTIVE FOR THE DAY!

I love how his costume turned out, he makes one cute birb

Da reference:

See the full post

15 notes - Posted October 31, 2022

#4

Just remembered that I asked @anovainspace the height for XXX!Sans and XXX!Frisk and why I asked that in the first place. I was finally inspired enough to doodle my scrunklie alongside them.

See the full post

16 notes - Posted September 26, 2022

#3

Memorytale-Chapter 0: Script Sickness

Will be (hopefully not so) slowly updating this. I sorta got caught up with high school but this comic shall be ongoing. Sorry about that and hope you'll enjoy¡

See the full post

19 notes - Posted September 17, 2022

#2

Urmm a little warning to those who comes to my blog, I'm currently developing memorytale and quite obsessed with it tbh. But I may post other things (maybe).

Introducing memory!Sans. A childlike being who can't meet the height requirements to be called an "adult" (p.s.: he's 11 inches shorter than classic). More about his personality and AU on the next post.

His AU is called memorytale (which probably has already been taken, feel free to contact me if you want to discuss it) and here I am being ever so creative to call him memory.

He himself doesn't acknowledge other universes which leads him to not even care about his own name, he usually just let the stranger decide a name for him.

21 notes - Posted April 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I got bored as well; so have my baby!

Memory: :> hoi!!

Dusk 410 and a challenge by @sereandtheskelefamily

21 notes - Posted November 14, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

+ RAFAEL ( @rfjofficial​​ )

SUNDAY 7TH FEBRUARY. RAFAEL’S HOME. It’s a well-known fact that Kitty would do anything for Rafael. A dangerous fact, admittedly, that has led to their fair share of trouble, including being banned from every bar in Ayia Napa, multiple hefty insurance claims, and more than one shallow grave. Yet it’s a fact as true as the sky is blue. Having a bond like that -- the sort where she’s known she will probably die for him since the age of nineteen ( give or take ), and is happy to do so ( honoured, really ) -- makes understanding why he’d need anyone else beyond his string of short-lived girlfriends and one-night-stands difficult. 

Ikki had always been a thorn in her side as his best friend and she’d certainly never expected the lean, sharp Dominion to invade Rafael’s heart as successfully as he evidently has. The news had taken her by surprise this morning, turning cruel in confusion. But it’s in the wake of a very final-feeling conversation with her ex that she realises she cannot blame Rafael. This wasn’t a decision he had made any more than her relationship with Saint had been. It came down to the startlingly simple fact that somewhere between the pair, romantic love had blossomed. 

She stands on Rafael’s doorstep feeling foolish but it isn’t the first time she’s run home with her tail between her legs. “Hi,” Kitty says quietly when the door swings open and the heat of the house comes running out to meet her and the dark. Bright eyes glance past him into the familiar interior of his home before she forces herself to meet his gaze. Defensive pride is extinguished as soon as she does, its flame snubbed out beneath the weight of guilt. Without warning, she’s quick to step forward into him, arms wrapping tightly around his chest as though the tighter she holds onto him the more apologetic he’ll know she is. A cold nose presses against his shoulder, whispering into soft material. “I’m sorry.”  

Found this on my dash. Wasn't tagged. Doing it anyway on House MD.

What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get?* Uhh I'll weakly say Huddy. I completely get it objectively, I just don't ship it.

Are there any popular fandom OTPs you only BroTP?* Nah. I pretty much ship all the guys. Wilson/Foreman is an underrated af ship I've only ever found like 5 fics.

Have you ever unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion? I've unfollowed someone over total nonsense in relation to this show but I don't know if that counts.

Do you have a NoTP in your fandom? Are they a popular OTP?* See question one.

Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?* Nah, I don't let it. It's not that deep.

Has fandom ever made you enjoy a pairing you previously hated?* Chameron grew on me after a while. Used to find them both annoying af but now I think they cute.

Is there anything you used to like but can’t stand now?* No.

Have you received anon hate? What about?* I've avoided it so far, somehow. With the kind of shit I post for SPN these days however I'm sure my days are numbered.

Most disliked character(s)? Why? Everyone in this show is an absolute asshole (bar Cameron and Kutner and maybe Cuddy) and I love them all. I couldn't say I dislike anyone.

Most disliked arc? Why? House crashing his car into Cuddy's home and then the next few episodes telling us why we should feel sorry for House. Plus it was so out of character. That ruined the show a little for me, but then the cancer arc made up for it.

Is there an unpopular character you like that the fandom doesn’t? Why? I don't think he's unpopular as such but my soft spot for Chase has been challenged on a couple of occasions. I get it, he's awful. But he's also baby and I can't not love him.

Is there an unpopular arc that you like that the fandom doesn’t? Why? Hmm don't think so. My favourites are the Tritter and the Dibala arcs and they're pretty popular to my knowledge.

Unpopular opinion about XXX character? Cuddy deserved so much better.

Unpopular opinion about your fandom? Not going there lol

Unpopular opinion about the manga/show? Couid have benefited from shorter seasons here and there but that's American telly for ya.

If you could change anything in the show, what would you change? House and Wilson getting married in Vegas, WIlson going into spontaneous remission the next day and then both of them living bickeringly married ever after. Of course.

Instead of XYZ happening, I would have made ABC happen… See above.

Does not shipping something ‘popular’ mean you’re in denial and/or biased? Lmao what no obviously not ship whatever the fuck you want

What is the one thing you hate most about your fandom? I don't hate it but I do mostly avoid it these days because there are a lot of minors around and that makes me a bit uncomfortable re interacting with someone half my age accidentally. Ya'll weren't even born when the show started airing where the hell did you come from. Power to you though I guess.

What is the purest ship in the fandom? I'm going to give the rogue answer of Chouse.

What are your thoughts on crack ships? Whatever you want

Popular character you hate? I don't hate any of them. I don't like Taub but he's still entertaining. Cameron gets on my nerves a little sometimes but I don't hate her.

Unpopular character you love? I don't think there are any massively unpopular characters?

Would you recommend XXX to a friend? Why or why not? I'm constantly trying to get ppl who haven't seen it to watch it what do u mean. I even got my friend who has no involvement in any sort of fandom whatsoever shipping Hilson. It was a hard road but after we watched half of season 3 one hungover Sunday afternoon it clicked for her. I was so proud.

How would you end XXX/Would you change the ending of XXX? See questions 16 and 17.

Most shippable character? My slutty boy Chase

Least shippable character? My pure boy Kutner

tagging @amill22 @decadent-prince @kuk-kuru-kuu @speedingintonowhere and anyone else who wants to do this

Just A Pawn - Sirius Black

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: When your best friend agrees to be your fake date for a wedding, the night doesn’t exactly go according to plan.

Warnings: fluff, angst, pining

Words: 1595

A/N: This is for @theweasleysredhair‘s 9k challenge, congrats again love! I didn’t mean for this to be so angsty, I just couldn’t help myself! Hope you guys enjoy this and please let me know what you think, I love you all! xxx

You lifted your bottle by its neck with two fingers as you brought it to your lips and took a swallow of beer, raising an eyebrow at your best friend. Sirius’ eyes were wide and his lips were parted slightly as an expression of surprise flickered across his handsome face. He narrowed those stormy grey eyes as he ran a hand through his shorter hair – you had been heart broken when he’d chopped off all his lovely long hair.

“No,” he finally said, “absolutely not!”

You sighed, you knew that he was going to react like this, “please, Sirius!” you whined as you pouted, “it’s bad enough that my younger friend is getting married before me. It’ll be so embarrassing if I have to go on my own. It’s only the wedding party that you have to go to; she only wanted to have family at the ceremony.”

Sirius sighed as he bit his bottom lip and you could see his resolve beginning to crumble, “why me?” he asked as he sat back in his seat and drained the last of his beer.

You would have thought that your reasons were obvious, Sirus was one of the few men that you felt truly comfortable around. He was sweet and kind – when he wasn’t being a little bitch – and he was your best friend.

“Because, I feel comfortable with you.”

Sirius sighed as a look of understanding passed over his face and he rubbed his eyes as he let out a frustrated groan, “Merlin, Y/N, it’s like you know exactly what I want to hear.”

“Is that a yes?” you asked and he rolled his eyes.

“Fine, I’ll go with you to this damned wedding party if it will shut you up!”

You gasped as you jumped out of your chair, feeling completely relieved and you ran over to him, wrapping your arms around him tightly, “thank you, thank you, thank you!” you squealed, you were so glad that he’d agreed, “you won’t regret this!” you kissed his cheek dramatically, leaving a lipstick mark.

“Too late,” he mumbled but you could hear the laughter in his voice and you completely missed the way that his cheeks flushed as you kissed him.

Finally, the night that you had been dreading was here but you were thankful that Sirius would be by your side. When you got out of the car and took his offered hand, you could have sworn that his eyes darkened and a muscle fluttered in his jaw. He kissed the top of your hand, his rough stubble scratching against your skin. You knew that he was only putting on a good show but it made you smile, you hadn’t realised that he was such a good actor.

“You look beautiful by the way, Y/N,” he grinned as you held up the skirts of your dress and you walked up the stone steps that led to the ballroom.

You smiled as you toyed with the ends of your hair, Sirius also looked very handsome, he really knew how to wear a suit; it wasn’t often that you saw him without a leather jacket. He was even wearing a tie that was the same colour of your dress, “thank you Sirius, you look great too,” you shot him a sweet smile as the both of you walked into the ballroom, your arm linked through his.

As soon as you walked into the ballroom, your breath was stolen away at the sight of the golden room. There was a magnificent chandelier with dozen burning candles; it was like something out of a fairy tale, complete with marble floors. Before you could completely appreciate and drink in the beauty, your friend was running over to you and pulled you into a sweet smelling hug.

“Y/N! I’m so glad that you’re here!” she looked so beautiful in her wedding dress, just like an angel, she smiled at you before she looked over to Sirius, a look of surprise gracing her features, “how long have you two been seeing each other?”

“Umm,” you looked at Sirius who had the ghost of a smirk on his face, a smirk that you wanted to slap off. You wished that you had got the backstory set, “not long.”

Your friend smiled at you as she placed a hand on your shoulder, “well, I’m glad that you’re happy, enjoy the party you two,” she gave you a little wave as she went back to join the party.

“Drink?” Sirius asked and you scowled as you heard the laughter in his voice, he was obviously enjoying this.

“Oh, Merlin, yes,” you breathed out a sigh.

When you were both safely seated at the bar, drinking flutes of champagne you smiled at the handsome young man sitting next to you, “thank you so much for coming with me tonight.”

Sirius simply shrugged as he shot you a charming smile, his eyes looked even prettier in the candle light and they sparkled as he smiled at you, “it’s really no problem, I never would have let you come alone, I knew that you would have been uncomfortable if you had.”

Your heart swelled and you leaned your head on his shoulder, “I’m so lucky that you’re my best friend,” if you were paying more attention, then you would have heard the longing sigh that escaped from Sirius’ lips.

All night, Sirius was a perfect gentleman as he mingled with the other guests, you noticed that a lot of them were looking at you with jealousy in their eyes and you couldn’t help but smirk. Sirius even concocted the story of how he admitted his feelings for you and according to him; it involved him throwing stones at your window. You had no idea he was such a romantic, or the fact that he was such a good actor. All those lingering touches and pining glances almost felt real. Almost.

It seemed that the both of you had the same idea; you both decided that if you were going to sell this act then you had to have at least one dance together. So, that was how you found yourself in his arms as you slow danced with one another. It felt nice, if it was only for a couple of minutes. Sirius smiled down at you as you danced to the beautiful music and he pulled you closer.

“This is nice,” you admitted bashfully as you curled your fingers into his hair.

He nodded as he beamed down at you, the edges of his eyes crinkling, “it is nice,” he agreed before he leaned his head down and brushed his lips against yours ever so gently. You almost gasped against his lips but you stopped yourself.

When he pulled away to smile at you, you tightened your grip in his hair and pulled him back in for another kiss. Sirius grunted against your lips as he pulled you closer as your tongues fought for dominance, his lips tasted of champagne and mint. It did feel a little strange to be kissing your best friend but you had to admit that he was a very good kisser. As you pulled away from Sirius, you looked over his shoulder to see if the kiss had had the desired effect.

It had. Your ex was staring at the both of you with hurt in his eyes. Sirius frowned and looked over his shoulder and all colour drained from his face as he recognised your ex from your time in Hogwarts. He scoffed and dropped his hands from your like you had burned him and he stormed out of the ballroom.

You felt dread settle in your stomach and you knew that you had to go after him, “Sirius! Wait!” you called after him as you followed him out into the foyer, “what’s the matter?”

The handsome man whirled around and you were shocked to see that there were tears in his eyes, “I never should have agreed to this! You lied to me, and you used me like a pawn!” the hurt in his face and voice took your breath away.

“What do you mean?” you frowned as you walked closer to him, “you knew that this was just an act,” you bit your lip.

He grimaced as he stepped away from you, the look in his eyes was so cold, “you never told me that you were using me to make your ex jealous. Merlin, I’m such an idiot,” he wrapped his arms around himself as he looked away from you, “do you want to know why I stopped sleeping around in sixth year? It’s because I wanted a real relationship, with you.”

To say you were shocked was an understatement; you had never known that he felt that way about you. But, the look on his face told you that he was sincere. You had always thought that Sirius was handsome but you’d never seen him in a romantic light. You opened your mouth to apologise but you were cut off.

“Y/N,” you didn’t have to turn around to know that it was your ex.

Sirius scoffed as he wiped at his eyes angrily, “have a good night, Y/N.”

You felt a lump in your throat and you knew that you had to go after him, he was still your best friend, “Sirius!” you called out and ran after him into the pouring rain. He was nowhere to be seen, it was obvious that he’d disapparated. You were going to make this right, no matter what it took.

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

@theweasleysredhair @smiithys @elayneblack @amelie-black​

hi! i’m in the midst of reading your series the garden and i’m hurtling towards the end of part 2 and dreading it so much because your words are so beautiful. i completely lack the vocabulary to describe how deeply these characters and their story have affected me. with the utmost respect to your time and creative process i was wondering if you had any sort of time frame for when we can expect part 3? i’ve never connected with a fic like this. thank you for writing xxx

Oh you’re a gem, I love the image of hurtling towards the end! It’s a steep drop off, fair warning! ;) I’ve had all three parts plotted for over a year now... part 1 took a fair bit of research, but NOTHING like part 2, oh my gosh I watched hours of YouTube docs and read select bits of history books and THEN the ENTIRE Ken Burns Vietnam doc whilst taking notes. Then of course for both 1 and 2 I had to work with double plot lines, that of the Bible and my own story, and fit them together cohesively. Since Jesus’ story is longer and more complicated and I had to combine all four gospels that tell it FOUR DIFFERENT WAYS, obviously the Biblical aspect of part 1 with David and Jonathan was easier. All this to say, the Bible basis for part 3 is the shortest, only a couple chapters. And the time period for part 3 is the present day, so it needs the least amount of research. Also I finally get to add in some magical elements, so strict believability isn’t a line I have to walk, which is a relief. This is the Garden of Eden after all!! I’ve started part 3 about three different times, and only liked the last one, so there’s about half of what I’ve written so far down the drain lol, but such is life. I think the main challenge with part 3 will be not getting too gratuitous with it... which is where I had trouble with the first two drafts. The third moves quickly, very quickly, and I think it needs to. I anticipate part 3 being shorter by far than part 2, probably longer than 1 though. And like I said the whole story is plotted, I know what’s happening and when and why, but the how I always like to let surprise me. I don’t talk much about my writing process on here because I’m not a very consistant writer. I legit only write when the mood hits me. I do NOT have the dicipline for Fests or deadlines. Like look at all the little things I wrote between last year and publishing part 2! Because I just wasn’t in the right headspace, I couldn’t concentrate, or the story just wasn’t ready to be told. I like to let myself believe, in all my art, music or painting or writing, that what needs to come out is already in me, and that it will surface when it’s ready, kinda like a pregnancy lol, or a cooking pie, or a water jug slowly filling up a drip at a time. You have to believe in yourself, no one else can do that for you. You have to say, this WILL become. And then you have to be patient enough and open enough to let the nutrients of memories and moments inside of you to make your art mature. At least that’s how it is for me. So what I’m saying is part 3 is still very raw, but I’ve felt it starting to take shape, even today I had the urge to write but I have to finish a commission first rip 🤦‍♀️ It may come all in one night, or one week, or not til Christmas lol. I have no way of telling you, but with TWO full moons this month, I feel like something is percolating. Part 3, idk if you realize, is the AU of Adam and Eve, in the Garden, the original Garden, Eden. And unlike in the Bible it’s the end of their story, not the start of it. I’m very excited to wrap all the angst in a ribbon and tie a pretty bow on top and complete the story. Sorry for the novel nony and thank you for asking!!!! ❤️

my second question is a writing question. i always struggle with feeling like i'm not giving enough context when i write in short formats (like your drabbles). the thing i've challenged myself with most recently is "ficlets" that are under 1000 words, and i still struggle with those most of the time. it's possible that i just comes down to different writing styles. but i wonder if you had to "train" yourself to write drabbles or if you have advice on how to do better when writing less.

I definitely had to train myself to write less. It’s still a challenge for me (last week, I think only one CC drabble stayed under the limit ugh). Before starting this blog, I only wrote chaptered stories. Sure, I’d do a couple oneshots here and there but reality was a drabble seemed so unfathomable … why did I only need to write 200 words when I could do 2000?! But it’s amazing how writing drabbles can change and assist your writing as a whole. 

As writers, we often overwrite. So few have learned the skill of portraying a scene with precisely the right amount of words needed. I can tell you I just deleted 2 whole paragraphs right now that came before the sentence above, solely because they weren’t needed to help answer this! See! It’s easy to write more than what we need. So it’s really about taking an intentional look at what is needed for a storyline to work. 

Things that you can take out most of the time or just don’t do, as long as it doesn’t affect the flow: 

First, don’t write a complex idea for a short story. If you need more than 1-2 sentences to explain the idea, then it’s not suitable for a shorter story. Simple ideas like “A and B cleaning out the fridge together” as opposed to “A cleaned out the fridge in her apartment with her roommate B for one last time before moving out. When she finally moved out, she realised she missed B and this wasn’t the opportunity for her like she thought it would be. A approaches B because of her feelings.” Of course you could still write the latter but it’s going to need way more words than the original, more simple idea would.

He/she said/replied/commented etc after your character has spoken so long as the reader knows who is present in the conversation.

A new scene if your goal is to remain limited to a short amount of words (ie under 500) - keep it locked to that key scene only. 

Internal dialogue if it really doesn’t benefit being there. Equally a string of feelings when it could be portrayed in their actions.

Lots of description on the setting. Use those words for your character’s development instead. 

Write until you think the scene is done. Don’t focus on word count or anything until you’re done. 

Biggest advice: Don’t plan it out before starting. I know some people need outlines for everything before they write, but for short pieces, the more you plan, the more you’ll write. Get your idea and start it. 

Example to this last one: say your idea is A is in love with B but thinks B loves C. You don’t need to plan out why A thinks this in a small story. A can explain it in its own way. You don’t need to explain in detail (or at all) C’s role in B or A’s life unless it directly affects the storyline. In a drabble that is under 500 words, all you need to do is choose where the confession will come out (or equally not and why) and what B and A’s reaction to this knowledge is. If you plan out all the things and include C’s role in everything, then you’ll lose the chance to be concise on what the main target was for your story. If it’s a ficlet, then of course, there’s room for more information but I’d be more inclined to showcase what A or B does to lead up to this confession and the result and all that as opposed for more of their world. Does this make sense? 

Things I do after:

Leave it alone for at least 24hrs if I can. For CC, I tend to write so basic now that I’m used to the format and editing is easier since I don’t write many words. But if it’s not for CC, I’ll leave it to get it out of the freshly in my head zone.

Look for unneeded sentences first, then read through again looking for unneeded words. Can your sentence structure be altered to maintain it’s message but with 1-3 words less? Take out things we naturally do in longer stories, ie: each and every time, and make it concise: always / every time. You just cut it down by changing such a little thing. 

Be mindful of the flow. Sometimes removing words ruins the integrity. It’s okay if it’s a little over, but challenging yourself to write regularly with a word count makes it easier for you to know what words need to be there and what don’t. 

The more you succeed, the more you will challenge yourself. I always recommend drabbles for success. They can be used as mindless writing tasks and you’ll feel the satisfaction of finishing one. I like to think 500 is a happy medium. 300 is tough and 1000 when under a word crunch to me now feels too much and makes it easy to get carried away and end up with 1200. 400-600 is a really safe zone. You’re going to push to keep it concise so you’ll find yourself feeling you can complete a scene within this space well. It’s one of the reasons I created Challenging Words ( @challengingwords ) with Sem and we decided on 500 words being the word count if people want that as an extra challenge.

The more drabbles you write, the more your series/longer pieces will benefit from it. You’ll start to erase unnecessary words out of habit and be able to focus on all the parts that need attention. You’ll have trained yourself out of this over the top explaining we sometimes can do (not saying we all do it, but I’m sure you get me) and each part will have function and purpose to being there. 

I hope this advice helps! I wrote a lot about little stories! Let me know if you need any help structuring things. I think a beta reader or someone to bounce ideas off is equally vital, especially when it comes to challenging yourself. Good luck Xxx

Hi-I’ve got an autism question. How hard was it to get a diagnosis? As I am 19 now I was thinking about seeking one for myself since I won’t have to worry about my parents intervening. I’ve looked up the steps online and stuff but none of it makes sense and I don’t know if anyone will take me seriously since I am a 19 y/o girl :/ I’ve grown up around children with autism (specifically my younger brother)and as I’ve gotten older I’ve begun to notice those traits in myself and I just want answers

Helloooo Anon!

Firstly, congratulations! It’s super great you’re recognising things in yourself and maybe finding an answer. Big love to you!

Secondly, I think I had a few big obstacles in getting my diagnosis, some of which you’ll understand. Being a girl and being a little older can make things a bit more challenging but luckily, the process is getting much better for identifying autism in girls and doctors know that the reason most girls aren’t diagnosed until later is because of this medical bias and not because they just aren’t autistic. I also happened to have a really terrible therapist for a while who halted my diagnostic process. I think without that, I would’ve found the whole process a lot quicker and easier.

All in all, it took me about 2-3 years to get a diagnosis, but like I said I had some other things to deal with so it might be a much much shorter process for you.

Depending on where you are in the world, the steps can be different. I was really panicky about my appointment because the steps didn’t make sense to me either, but when I got my appointment for the actual diagnosis, they gave me a big booklet with everything I needed to know in. Once you get an appointment, they’ll usually contact you to give you some forms to fill out in advance and you can use that time to ask them for details on what it will entail. Don’t panic about sounding too inquisitive or anything because frankly it’s helpful for them to know if that bothers you (my psychiatrist actually said he’d guessed I was autistic within the first ten minutes because I brought a big folder of all the possible info I’d need with me!)

I really hope you have a smooth diagnostic process. Get in touch if there’s anything you need or that I can do to help. xxx

LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING [SOMETHING ABOUT YOURSELF]

pairing: eddie kaspbrak/richie tozier chapter count: 1/5 summary: eddie kaspbrak runs an advice blog online, and he finds that maybe he’s starting to develop feelings for the cute, regular anon he gets gushing about their crush. meanwhile, richie tozier opens up his heart about falling in love to an anonymous advice blogger. read on ao3.

Eddie wondered if it was a little sad how excited he got when the message in his inbox started with a little purple heart emoji. Because his little heart definitely jumped in his chest every time he saw it at the front, and that message always got instant priority over whatever else was in his inbox.

omg cute boy did the most perfect thing today. i dont even have a genuine question here, or anything i just need to express how perfect this tiny human is and i think all my friends are tired of hearing about gfhdlgfhakjahsjlga i wanna hold his stupid tiny hand.

Eddie smiled to himself, clicking on the reply button. The past few weeks, Eddie’s spur of the moment advice blog had suddenly gained a ridiculous amount of popularity after a screenshot of one his posts had made its way onto a Buzzfeed article. With all the new followers, a great influx of messages had come along as well. Including this specific purple heart emoji anon, who seemed to be completely and utter smitten with somebody who worked in the same place as he did. And Eddie well, maybe Eddie was a little in love with how in love his anon was. Or maybe he wanted somebody to love him that much.

“Good moooooorning, beautiful!”

Eddie startled, quickly slamming the lid of his computer down. His advice blog was a top secret of his, the only person who knew he did was his best friend from high school, Mike. They’d both made blogs back in the early years of high school, and Eddie had clung to his as a perfect escape from the bullshit of the real world. He didn’t think Mike still used it, but he was the only person who knew that Eddie used his. And what he used it for.

Richie worked at the Starbucks across from Eddie’s store in the mall, and he’d seemed to latch onto Eddie on his very first day on the job. They were both college students trying to make ends meet with part time jobs when they weren’t in their classes or sleeping, and Richie had declared them kindred spirits. That had been almost two years earlier, and Eddie had officially been selling skinny jeans and sweaters to teenager girls for way too long.

“Sure slammed that shut pretty quick,” Richie commented with a small whistle. He raised his eyebrow and cocked his lips up into half a grin. His small overbite was barely obvious from that smile, but it was still annoying adorable. Eddie supposed that must things were annoyingly adorable about Richie Tozier. “Are you looking at porn on the job, Kaspbrak? Or do you just have deep dark hidden secret out there on the Internet?”

Eddie flushed. “You’re not supposed to be behind the counter.”

Richie held his hands up in defense, each one holding a Starbucks cup and rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll just take your iced coffee back over to work and dump it out then.”

“You’ll do no such thing!” Eddie cried, flopping forward in his chair to make grabby hands at smaller cup. Richie let out a laugh and handed the drink to Eddie, tucking his own empty hand into the back pocket of his jeans.

Eddie took a sip of the drink and let out a loud sigh. Richie had perfected his drink to the point where Eddie wouldn’t go to Starbucks if Richie wasn’t working. On the nice days when Richie’s shift started before Eddie’s, Eddie wouldn’t have to get up and get it himself at all. “Are you done now?” Eddie asked, glancing at the clock on the wall behind him. It was a little after noon, a bit early for Richie to be finished his shift but he knew that Richie did like to take shorter shifts during exam season.

“Nah. Not done until three.” Richie said, sipping at his red-coloured, syrupy iced drink that Eddie was never brave enough to ask what was in it. “I’m going on my break. Want to go see the outside world with me and remember what it’s like to be free?”

Eddie clucked his tongue, and turned on the chair to look at his coworker, Kay. “Is it okay if I go on my break now?” It was a little early to Eddie to take a break, and he knew he’d probably regret it later when he had to move through the last several hours of his shift in one go, but he was still going to jump at the chance.

Kay looked up from the binder of the summer sales that were coming in, and smirked as she caught sight of Richie standing with Eddie. “Yeah, we’re completely dead,” Kay replied. “I’m not sure why Barb insists on scheduling two people in the middle of the day when our entire target audience is in school.”

“K thanks!” Eddie jumped down from the chair, sticking his tongue out at Kay as Richie turned around. He supposed that his raging crush on the lankier guy hadn’t exactly been subtle over the last year or so, but it was subtle enough that Richie hadn’t seemed to notice and that was what mattered in the long run.

He remembered how annoyed he’d been when he’d realized that he’d fallen for the stupid barista boy like a goddamn internet cliche. But then again, Eddie had never claimed to be anything more than an Internet cliche, so what the point in fighting it? He’d let himself fall full forward into liking Richie, and found that he enjoyed Richie even more than he’d originally realized. Once he stopped fighting his crush, and let himself genuinely find Richie funny and amusing, life became so much lighter.

Richie jumped up onto the curb stop once they’d gotten outside, and swung his leg around while drinking from the red drink of death. “So... are you going to invite me to Mike’s party this weekend?”

Eddie raised one eyebrow, a challenge. “I’m assuming that since you’re asking about it, that Mike has already asked you.”

“Well, yeah.” Richie huffed, but he was still smiling. “But you didn’t ask me, Eddie. And that hurts. I thought we were lovers.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but he knew that he was blushing. “I don’t know whatever gave you that idea, Richard, but I’ll have you know that I didn’t invite anybody to this party. Because it’s Mike’s party, for his weird fuckboy boyfriend. I just happen to live in the same house as that party. I’ll be spending it in my room, probably watching re-runs of the Office with Chinese food.”

Richie jumped off the curb and landed in front of Eddie. “Well then- invite me to that.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes. “You want to spend your Saturday night sitting alone with me watching the Office?”

“My favourite show with my favourite boy?” Richie reached out and pinched Eddie’s cheeks. Eddie swatted him away with a grumble. “Honestly, I couldn’t think of anything I’d rather do on Saturday. It’s not like I’d be drinking anyway.”

Eddie nodded, knowing all about Richie’s long and poor history with alcohol that had peaked the year before they’d met. Still though... parties seemed like something Richie enjoyed, as somebody who thrived on social environments. “You're welcome to come over and watch the Office with me,” Eddie said with small smile. “And I promise I won’t be offended when you ditch me for the music and chatter of half the school in my tiny living room.”

Richie tossed an arm around Eddie’s shoulder and pulled him into him. “I would never ditch my Eds!”

xxx

“I swear,” Richie said, gesturing towards Eddie’s small bedroom television set. They were both laying together, Eddie’s small enough that they were pressed together from top to bottom. It wasn’t the first time they’d been seated in Eddie’s bed like this, but it made Eddie’s heart race everytime. “It takes Pam and Jim longer to get together every time I want this show.”

Eddie let his head lull to the side, crinkling up his nose. He, personally, could barely hear the show over the raging music from the party outside the walls. Mike had promised to try and keep it down for them, but Eddie hadn’t really expected much. “They get together in the same episode every time.”

“Yes, Edward.” Richie rolled his eyes, letting his hand come down and start to fiddling with the rainbow pride rope bracelet that Eddie always wore on his left wrist. “In my old age, I just find myself a little less tolerant of all this slowburn. They’re obviously soulmates, why must we sit through so much bullshit when they should just have gotten together at the start?”

Eddie chuckled, hoping Richie couldn’t feel his blood rushing under his hold on his wrist. “I like the slowburn. It’s interesting, you know? Two people who obviously right for each other but had to the get the timing right too. That’s the whole part of it. I think Jim and Pam wouldn’t have been nearly as interesting and powerful as couple if they’d gotten together right at a beginning and never had to like... really go through it together.”

“I just don’t think love should always have to be such a struggle.” Richie said, moving on from playing with Eddie’s bracelet to simply rubbing at Eddie’s wrist. “Why can’t just once I see a couple get together and then nothing bad ever happens, the end.”

Eddie smiled softly. “Why, Richard Tozier, I didn’t know you were such a closet romantic.”

“There’s lots you don’t know about me, Eds.” Richie tilted his head back down and smiled at him. Eddie blinked sleepily at him, letting his smile turn slightly confused. Richie let out a sigh. “Like, uh... I probably never told you this, but I think the best decision I ever made was going over to talk to you that day when you surrounded by all those preteens that were freaking out that you guys were sold out of those new Kardashian jeans.”

Eddie groaned, head falling into Richie’s neck. He told himself he imagined that Richie’s seemed to jump underneath him at the pressure of Eddie’s body.“Oh my God, that was the worst fucking day.”

“Wow,” Richie chuckled, moving Eddie’s body with his. Richie had always been a touchy feely friend, but Eddie didn’t think they’d ever been this close. “Guess I’ll just die.”

“Obviously the only good part of the day was the big gangly losers coming over and handing me a coffee even thought he’d never met and wasn’t sure how I even took it.” Eddie laughed, shifting so he could look at him, chin resting on Richie’s chest.

“Hey.” Richie waggled his eyebrows. “I made a wicked iced coffee that day.”

“It was edible.” Eddie said dryly. “But I think I was so high on anxiety, you could have handed me hot piss in a cup and I would’ve drank it without a second thought.”

“That’s disgusting,” Richie laughed, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Eddie’s forehead. “I thought I was supposed to be the disgusting one.”

Eddie’s entire face flushed. “You’re not that disgusting.”

Something odd and soft came over Richie’s face, and he was leaning closer... closer... Eddie took in a shaky breath, closed his eyes...

A loud crash, followed by Mike swearing, broke them apart. Eddie rolled his eyes and paused the show. “Want to help me kick some ass?”

“Every single person in that room could kill me with one punch,” Richie replied, smiling cheekily. “But I would happily die in a fight for my Eddie Spaghetti.”

“Oh my God, fucking gross, how many times do I need to tell you not to call me that?”

“At least once more, apparently.”

xxx

After Richie and the party guests had all gone home, Eddie quickly logged into his blog and clicked onto his ask box. Right at the top was a message from the purple heart.

fuck i almost kissed the cutie today! he seemed into it but this stupid party interrupt it and now im like??? do i try to kiss him again or was i over thinking it? ah ah ah pls send help. i need a whole army of strong men to carry me through this.

Eddie frowned.

Hey there! Long time no see. I'm just stopping by, giving you a huge hug and wondering how you're doing? How's life been treating you?

Hello! Hello! Hello!

It’s been too long, hasn’t it? How have you been?

*squeezes you so tight, your ribs ache a bit, wiggling from side to side in a hug*

I’m doing okay, I think. The usual life complaints, you know? Never enough hours in the day, too many of them wasted at work to pay for all the shit I need, and never enough energy left for anything I want to do that doesn’t involve sitting on my couch. Honestly, as a society, we need to re-evaluate the social structure of a work/life balance because mine is slowly killing my ability to write anything decent, and making me wish away the days, rather than enjoying them. 

Beyond that, life’s treating me okay. The things I have to complain about mean nothing in the grand scheme of things and in the face of people who actually suffer from heinous things, but #firstworldproblems was invented for a reason, right? Here I am moaning about my job while others are struggling to land one, so I should just shut my mouth, suck it up, and get on with it all, you know?

So, yeah. I’m doing okay, but I’d prefer to be doing good.  I’m hanging out for the Christmas closure period. 50 days to go until Christmas, y’all! Wooooo! I love Christmas. I’ve been doing all my shopping online this year, and having the parcels delivered to the office. It’s great. 

Urgh, I need to be writing more, I think. I mean, I wrote 13k words on Sunday for a new challenge Fic of the Spuffy pairing (take THAT, NaNo!), which is great, but I have so many neglected WIPs and honestly, don’t ever let me post another one, y’all. The added pressure to get them finished threatens my mental health, some days. Like, for real, the next time I post a WIP without promising in the opening notes that it’s complete in draft, someone just drive to Brisbane and bitch slap some sense into me, please?

But I’m whinging again. I’ll stop. I need to be less negative. Alright... Alright...

*repeatedly clicks fingers, trying to think of positive things to share*

Hmmmm..... Oh! I got a raise at work, and offered shares in my company, which is great for my financial situation, so I’m pretty stoked about that. And I’m pretty close to finishing a few of my shorter fics (not yet shared at all because I’ve been behaving and not posting them like a trigger-happy renegade with poor impulse control). And I have a day off coming up in 2 weeks to attend a follow-up appointment after my exploratory surgery, so bonus for sleeping in and getting some writing done in the Dr office while I wait. 

But enough about me!

What about you? Where’ve you been? I feel like it’s been waaaaaay too long since we’ve caught up? How are you? What’ve you been doing with yourself?

xxx-Kitten.

Hey so I’ve had a few requests for a jealous reader/jealous of Lana, so I thought I’d put them into one if that’s okay. Hope you enjoy. I’ve made this one a bit longer so let me know if this length is too long or if you prefer shorter imagines! Or maybe you guys like reading longer ones? Let me know! A Weekend of Hating Lana Condor Friday. It had been just over two hours since Noah had left for London. Checking your watch, you saw he’d be halfway over the Atlantic by now. Sighing, you glance around the massive empty house. Noah had left you plenty of food and had left the password to Netflix for you. Opening a cupboard, you are surprised with at least seven different types of popcorn and an alarming amount of chocolate. Settling down on the couch with an armful of candy and food, you turn on the massive flatscreen tv. The surround sound makes a welcoming ding as it switches on and you scroll through looking for something to watch. It occurs to you that you’ve never seen one of your boyfriends’ movies. Maybe now would be a good chance? You type in his name and To All the Boys You’ve Loved Before comes up. Nodding you watch it. It only takes a few minutes before you wish you hadn’t. You’d heard Noah talk about Lana plenty of times before, and it had never really bothered you. Up until now. She was like pretty. Something you knew you could never measure up to, with her dark sleek hair, tiny body and perfect skin.You watch the hot tub scene, and for some reason it really bothers you. It’s a movie, you tell yourself. They’re just good friends and that’s all. Biting your lip, you go to take another mouthful of popcorn, but decide against it. Lana probably doesn’t eat popcorn; how else would she be so small? You finish the movie. Unsatisfied, you wander about the house. You refuse to spend your whole weekend thinking about her. Noah and Lana are just friends, they go to premiers and stuff all the time together. This is nothing new. Right? Feeling more irritated, you head over the marble floor, up the winding staircase to the master bedroom and indulge in Noah’s newly renovated bathroom. The shower, large enough for four has at least twenty water flow options, with temperature control and in shower speakers. You manage to forget about Lana for a while, until later in bed when you message Noah. There is no response, but you’d expected that. He was probably still on the plane. Maybe he’s sitting with Lana right now, having drinks and nibbles on the aircraft bar. Maybe they’re even sitting next to each other, or even sleeping next to each other. She probably looks perfect when she sleeps. Changing into one of Noah’s baggy t-shirts, you climb into the massive bed. You don’t look perfect when you sleep. Saturday. You lay on the large king size bed, pillow under your chin and phone in your hands. You see a message from Noah and open it instantly. Morning babe. Sorry I didn’t reply last night, we ended up going out in London for a few with the movie gang. Got the premier tonight but I’ll talk to you tomorrow evening your time. Miss you babe. Lana says hi. N xxx Fucking Lana. The thought of her spending all that time with your boyfriend honestly makes your skin crawl. “What the heck is wrong with me?” You say out loud. You’re not usually the jealous type. You’d been able to handle all the other girls/boys pining after Noah, but for some reason, Lana seemed to really bug you, despite you never having met her. You roll over and pull out your laptop, and you do the one thing you knew you’d regret. Opening google, you type in Noah’s name, and then Lana’s name. Your stomach writhes as you scroll down through all the photos. You read article upon article about rumors of the two of them dating. They look so perfect together. His perfect tan and perfect teeth, and her slender frame and beautiful face, you wonder why Noah would even look at you. Why me? I’m nothing special.  Sunday.  The sun beams down over Malibu and you decide to make the absolute most of it. Changing into a swimming costume, you head down to the pool which is glimmering in the morning light. After a light breakfast of fruit and coffee, you seat yourself on the pool’s edge in one of the lounge chairs. Pushing your sunglasses up your nose, you lay back and watch some YouTube which always makes you feel happier.As the video comes to an end, a suggestion comes up with Noah and Lana’s latest interview. Scoffing, you can’t help but open it. “Yeah she’s great. I love her so much, I couldn’t imagine working with anyone better.” Noah says in the interview. “Noah stop being so nice oh my god.” Lana says slapping Noah lightly on the shoulder as she giggles through perfect teeth. You watch another interview of the two of them playing the chubby bunny challenge. You even laugh for a moment, forgetting that you’re watching your boyfriend and the most beautiful girl eve in very close proximity. Deciding against watching anymore interviews, you put your phone down, take off your sunglasses and slip into the pool. The water is cool, but not too cold. You let your head sink under the water as you completely submerge yourself. After a couple of laps, you pull out of the inflatable floaties and lay back in the warm summer sun. Noah will be home soon and you’ll have him all to yourself again, and you can just forget about Lana.

To Marry a Bastard

Ramsay Bolton x Reader

ao3 

summary:  Before there were the Bastard’s Bitches, the Black Sheep, the Wicked Ones, and the Red King’s to worry about there was only the Bastard’s Boys. Before there was a bun in the oven there was a possessive, obsessive love. There was raw emotion. There was a rowdy group of men who frequented a small, hole in wall, bar…. There was something evil behind that smirk. But there was also something needing and wanting behind those cold blue eyes.

**prequel to Guns for Hire

Chap 1 || Chap 2 

chapter song

Chapter 3: ‘Cuz This is THRILLER

×××Ramsay×××

”You’re late.” Roose said in his usual cool tone.

Ramsay frowned, but placed his jacket over the back of the chair and sat, rolling up his sleeves a little. For the end of October the days were still unseasonably warm. He pulled at his tie a bit and relaxed into the handsome leather chair before speaking. “Apologies, father. Traffic was a disaster. There was a wreck apparently.”

”Never mind that now. We have business to discuss.” Roose said curtly, setting his pen down and pushing the papers he was signing away from him.

”Yes, yes. Numbers. Everything is in working order. Why can’t I work here? Do you have any idea how much I hate the bank?” Ramsay said, words tumbling slightly.

”I have told you. I don’t trust anyone with our money but us. I need you at the bank to make sure everything is taken care of.”

Ramsay sighed, feeling ruffled. He could still do the same work by working here in the family company. Domeric did. “Yes but—“

”There are no buts Ramsay.” Roose cut across him. His voice never raised, but there was a finality in his tone to not be challenged.

Ramsay tutted, turning his eyes to the window to avoid looking at his father. Always being reprimanded like some child. It stung. Never as good as perfect little Domeric. Fucking prick. “Well, all accounts are accounted for. However, it has come to my attention that account c-one ten has made no change in two months.”

Roose considered his son in a few moments silence before nodding. “Take care of it.”

Ramsay turned his eyes back to his father and raised a brow. “How?”

”Any way you see fit.”

Ramsay cracked a wide, maliciously insane smile. “And the losses?”

”Will be picked up and added elsewhere.”

Ramsay nodded, still wearing his manic grin. “If that is all then... It’s Halloween. I have a fun night planned.”

”Then you will call your brother from the city jail and not me.” Roose said dismissively, picking up his pen again and turning back to the papers before him.

×××(y/n)×××

"Your skirt could be just a bit shorter." Olyvar said, bumping you out of the way of the mirror with his bony hip, to finish his zombie make up.

"Probably. But, I'd rather not be molested by ghosts and ghouls tonight." You chuckled, placing your fox ears on.

"Fair." Olyvar nodded. "You know, I was thinking... Maybe throwing you a big party. Kinda like a twenty first birthday, friendiversary kind of thing. I mean, you've been here three years now, and I couldn't imagine a more fun coworker than you."

You turned to Olyvar and beamed, "You don't have to do that. It's not a big deal. Just hanging out with you is enough of a party."

"Well, yes, but..." Olyvar shrugged. "Are we ready to have a monster mash?"

"Only if it's a graveyard smash." You winked with a giggle and leaving the bathroom of your apartment.

There was something about this little bar that you loved. Maybe it was the sense of freedom it brought you after your abrupt leave from home and never looking back. It was a fresh start, and at 18 when you had taken the job, you couldn't have been anymore grateful. You also loved the people who came in. Regardless of status or occupation, they were all here to have a good time, and you would make sure to deliver. You and Olyvar were a seamless team, and the Old Man, as you called your boss, well, he made sure to pay you both well for the fantastic job you both did in keeping the place well beyond the 'up to scratch' mark.  

The costumes filling up the bar were grand. Some well thought out, others made you giggle. You stood behind the bar, filling orders, exchanging cash, and reminding people to enter the costume contest. The music upbeat, and Halloween classics in between dances. It was probably your favorite holiday at the bar. Sure, Christmas was fun, but all in all, watching people get hammered in naughty nurse and Pyramid Head costumes was the highlight of the year.

xxx(Ramsay)xxx

"Oh cheer up. She was a whore, and you knew that in high school." Ramsay tutted, adjusting one of his cufflinks and smoothing out his tie.

Alyn looked over the top of his glass and frowned at Ramsay, "Okay, yeah sure. But Skinner?"

Ramsay shrugged, "He has class. And he's a lawyer, and he lives in the land of always sunny and warm. Get over yourself. Just fuck half the bitches that show up on your Tinder and call it even. Now come on, we have fun shit to do."

"Like?"

"Well, we have a insufficient funds account to dispose of, and then we are going to get hammered. Ben and Damon should have the account moved by now." Ramsay said, placing his fedora jauntily atop his head and giving a haughty sniff.

Alyn sighed and gave Ramsay a look over, "Capone?"

"Mhm." Ramsay hummed, lighting a cigarette, nudging Alyn's foot with a wingtipped shoe and making his way to the door. "I've been dying for an excuse to use a Tommy, and what better way to do it than on Halloween, masquerading as Al Capone?"

"Fair." Alyn said, finally standing from the couch and following Ramsay out the door.

It was a quick drive across town. The sun had just started to set and children were beginning to emerge in their Batman and Elsa costumes. Something about Halloween made Ramsay giddy and animated. Maybe it was the mix of candies and alcohol. The fact that he could wear blood on him in public, and no one would think twice about it. Or just simply for the fact that mentally, as smart as he was, Ramsay was often childlike in his actions.

He and Alyn got out of the car behind an old warehouse the Boltons kept for tax purposes. They no longer stored manufactured goods here, but it still brought a tax break. And it was a secure place that Roose had allotted for Ramsay to 'take out the trash' when it involved family business means. Though, Ramsay was left on his own when he was to play his games for his own leisure purposes. Business only. And tonight it was business before party.

They entered the building to find Damon and Ben already set up. More or less. Damon and Ben sat at a small table in the corner, playing cards, waiting on Ramsay to show up and take care of the man they had gagged and bound to a chair. Alyn wandered over to take a seat with Damon and Ben, who didn't even bother to give a look at who had entered. All of this was like walking through motions. They Boys knew what to expect, and so they just let their boss get on with it.

Ramsay crossed to the man in the chair, kneeling down before his victim and cracked a wide, manic grin. He took in the beads of sweat forming in the man's hairline and popping eyes. He already smelt like piss and regret. Perhaps this wouldn't be as fun as he had anticipated, maybe he should just gut the fucker and go drown in a bottle of whiskey. "I suppose you know why you're here?" He said sweetly to the man.

At once the man tried to shift in his seat and speak out. The gag obscured his words however, and that seemed to send him into a heavier panic. Tugging harder at the cuffs on his hands and feet. Squirming this way and that at the rope around his chest. Eyes now bulging with fear when Ramsay pulled a knife from his pocket and flipped the blade open. He could hear the panicked breathing as he placed the knife to the man's cheek.

"You haven't paid anything in two months. That's not how it works. Not a fucking charity here. And judging by your shoes, you aren't a charity fucking case. Two hundred dollars a week for six months really wasn't a bad idea. And now a little girl is going to be without a father. Her mother already a drunk. And no daddy there to stand between the two. Sad time's we're living in, pal. But you did do it to yourself." Ramsay sneered, pressing the blade into the man's cheek. The man made more aggressive movements and more muffled pleading, but Ramsay had already grown bored.

"Dame, come hold his head. I wasn't a clear throat here." Ramsay snapped, glancing over at the Boys.

Damon jumped up from his seat and crossed the room quickly, taking the man's sweaty hair in his fingers and forcing his head up. It was a quick slice, spattering Ramsay in blood. He gave a satisfied smirk before wiping the blade off on his sleeve. He closed the blade and returned it to his pocket as he shook back the sleeve of his suit jacket and checked the time. "We have...?"

"A wood chipper out back." Ben said, tossing cards down and turning to look at Ramsay.

"Oh goodie." Ramsay chuckled, looking down at the bleeding out mess before him. "Well first, one of you get the Tommy. I've been itching to shoot it. And then we will dump him in the chipper, and drinks are on me all night."

"Where we going?" Damon asked, wiping his hands off on his pants.

"That one place." Ramsay said, waving a careless hand.

"Ah. Gonna make eyes at the chick behind the counter, but still not talk to her, huh?" Damon chuckled, giving Ramsay a wink.

Ramsay snorted, "Yeah, something like that." He nodded. How the girl had been plaguing his mind for days on end now, and he wasn't sure why. He usually didn't obsess over people. He was materialistic. He didn't form attachment. Not to anyone other than Damon, who had been his friend for the last twenty years. But something about the woman, (Y/N) Damon had said, had caught his attention and refused to let go. Like some kind of invisible bond that neither were aware of. But he was going to change that.  

---

"Oh my goodness, go turn the AC up or something. I'm fucking melting over here." You said when Olyvar passed you.

It was only 10 pm and you were so ready to go home. Slinging drinks was turning into a sloppy mess, thanks to those who were overly intoxicated. Your eyes continuously falling on a group of men in the back corner who were laughing and carrying on. Chicks here and there stopping to pay them attention, and occasionally flash their tits that were already falling out of their tops. You noticed that two of them were guys from a few nights ago that had caught your attention then too. Olyvar commented on this many times.

"Just go talk to them, bring them refills or something." He coaxed many times.

However, you had declined each time. Your face flushing every time you even caught the profile of the shortest one of the group. His dark hair, hauntingly blue eyes, and that wicked smirk. His costume was your favorite by far. Because it was more realistic than most you had seen throughout the night. You shook your head, remembering what you were supposed to be doing and pulling your eyes away from the loud group. One idiot, lively and animated, climbing up on the table and telling some wild story that only bits and pieces you could make out over the other patrons talk and laughter, and loud music from all around.

You had kept yourself busy by filling more drinks, cutting people off, and calling cabs for those that were too drunk to make the call themselves.

Turning when you felt the presence of a customer behind you, you felt your cheeks redden and air leave your lungs. He was even cuter up close, and he knew it. His bold grin told you so.

"Shot of Jack." He said, looking past you.

"Sure thing." You said almost breathlessly, grabbing a shot glass and the bottle behind you.

As you slid the glass across the counter he brushed your hand with his. He glanced up and looked at you.

And is was as if the world had fallen away. You could have sworn he drew a sharp breath as your heart skipped many beats. Your face warmed and you looked away quickly, pulling your hand back awkwardly.

He threw back the shot, set the glass down gently, and slid a crisp $100 across the counter.

"Keep the change, doll." He hummed, standing from the stool and sliding an old receipt toward you as well.

You opened your mouth to speak but he had already walked away, and was heading out of the bar with the group of men he had come in with.

You took the money and the receipt. It had a number written on it. As if in a hurry.

You fell into the seat of your car and pulled your phone out.

[You: you gave me your number but didn't leave a name.]

You stared down at your phone, wondering if he would...

[unknown: let me take you out on a date Wednesday night and I'll give you a name. Goodnight, doll.]

[You: deal. Goodnight, mysterious nobody.]

Broken Veins C4, C3, C2, C1 

Sweet Pea x Venom Becker 

Finding myself in the wyrm, i hadn’t been in here in a while. My mind last remembers when i was younger as my mother and her serpent friends were playing a game of pool and i was playing around with all the now senior serpents. They were my family and i would do anything for my family. My stroll in the bar made almost half of the people to stare at me as if i was a ghost. 

Finding Sweet pea at the familiar pool table that my mother used to always play at, i felt nostalgic feeling like a young child all over again. The crowd that was forming around me as i watched sweet pea play made made everyone go silent. Once Sweet pea noticed the silence he finally looked at me. “When your done with this i’ll be at the bar waiting” 

Being greeted with Toni who served me a drink, i stayed quiet thinking about Malachai and my rough past with him, he always surprised me. The fact that i almost joined the Ghoulies says a lot about who i am now. Malachai used to be one of the most important people in my life. I always thought of him as a ‘ride or die’ type. He was really never my person in the end. Zoning in again, the sound of tapping brought me back. 

Toni had tapped my shoulder, as i smiled at her i took a gulp in. “sorry what’s up” “I was just wondering if you were sleeping with Sweet pea?” My eyes grew wide at her question as i shook my head no. “we’re just friends” She mumbled a “oh” as i took another sip of my drink. 

Taking my attention back to the pool table, i was very lucky to see Sweet pea walking back towards Toni and I. He took the seat next to me as i just finished off my drink. “Hey, sorry about losing connected over the phone i was playing a game and got distracted” I shook my head as i understood his reason why he hanged up. “It’s okay honestly, are we good?” Sweet pea smiled at me as he shook my hand. “Yes Venom we are” 

Turning around to see a shorter some what attractive guy coming over to Sweet pea and i, i noticed his tan skin and pretty smile. “Hay man have you met Venom?” I smiled as he glanced at me and took out his hand to shake mine. “So you’re the girl that makes my best friend so happy” I laughed as i couldn’t believe what i was hearing. Shaking his friends hand i giggled at both serpents. “i mean we only went on one date, which might i add ended up being bad” Fangs looked at he best friend and hit him up side the head. 

“What the hell fogarty!” He shook his head at Sweets as he looked back at me. “I’m sorry for his ass” Before i could reply back to Fangs my phone went off with a text from Malachai. Opening the message my eyes glued down to see the words “Murder!! Intrigue!! Sex!! Drugs!! CLASSICS!!”  Seeing the dots as he continued to type i sighed. “hey Venom you okay?” Hearing Sweet pea speak up i nodded in his direction. “Yeah it’s just my mom texting me” Mumbling a okay at me i got another text from Malachai. 

Reopening my messages with him i took a deep breathe in before reading again. “Meet me at are place, i wanna talk” I hadn’t been at ‘are place’ in so long i felt so much pain since it brought back so many memories i didn’t need to remember. Closing my phone, i watched as Sweet pea and Fangs and Toni were in a deep debate about who was the best at pool which was clearly Sweet pea. “Hay guys, i got to home i’ll see yall at school” Sweets perked up at my voice as he grew worried. “do you need a ride home venom?” I shook my head no as i gave Sweets a hug and waved by to Fangs and Toni. 

The walk to the ghoulies side of town made me cringe as i wish i didn’t know what i know now. Seeing some familiar ghoulies i used to be close with hanging outside by the house of the dead, i sighed wishing i could just walk away but i know i’m not gonna do that. The door opened wide as i Malachai’s figure stepped out of the building. He noticed me right away as he walked straight to me ignoring his boys. 

His smile was still the same as i remembered it years ago. He always knew how to get me on his side even if i didn’t want any part of his side. He took my hand and lead me inside the house of the dead. His room was very wide as the tall window brought light inside. “didn’t think you’d actually come” He waited for my response as i grew teary eyed almost. “you always knew how to get me going mal” He chuckled at my comment as i changed my smile to anger. “what do you need mal” Playing with my fingers he took a seat and following opened his mouth. “i saw you at the wyrm, why are you fucking around with those snakes” 

The anger built up inside of me, made myself barley scream out my reply. “DON’T YOU MEAN MY FAMILY MAL, THE SERPENTS ARE MY BLOOD YOU KNOW THAT” He quickly came over and held my face in his hands as i looked away from him. “you were the best thing from that ever happened to me vee”  Tears fell from my face as his lips found mine. The kissing continued and i didn’t even want it to stop, as are clothes were discarded and dropped to the floor and the way are naked bodies felt so perfect against each other. 

Laying in his bed, malachai kissed my shoulders, as my head hit the pillow. Grabbing my phone i checked the time and saw it was going on 7 pm. i left a message for my mother saying i was crashing at Cheryl’s. “vee you know you’ll always be my queen, right?” Looking back at him i nodded at him. I knew what i was doing and it was bad.  

--

The next at school i found myself at my locker as i grabbed some books, i heard shouts of my name. “VENOM” I turned around to see Toni run up to me. “Hey, did you hear about what happened with Sweet Pea?” I shook my head confused at the girl with pink locks. “no what’s going on?” “Malachai, the ghoulie leader challenged Sweets to a drag race” I grew anxious as i knew i shouldn’t go to this drag race knowing if i do my secret will be out and i can’t lose my family. I knew i was in deep shit.  

xxx tag list 

@reewrites @misskarynie @that-idiot125 

Be Elated!-- For Pleasance Cosmos and Life had been Produced From Difficult Chances

Allow us amaze started our hunting for delight from the quite an starting. That is from the get down of the world. The almost plausible and normally received estimation of the generation of the cosmos is the "Massive Bang" conception of yield. In accord to it, the world is made from an blowup in the identical condensed merchandise and ensuant development of point. Eventide if entirely the situations for the multiplication of the universe had been allow at the lead off, various aspects had to be seize for the succeeding melioration of the universe. : • Our population is expanding corresponding a polka stippled billow which is staying out of breath prohibited. Simply or so every back breaker (representing a virtuoso or a beetleweed) on it is distancing exclusively from exactly near every early. Now, if the bill of blowup of the freshly formulated universe had in reality respective level extremely minutely from specifically what it give been in truth, at that place would sustain been no existence. A low slower and the universe would take in collapsed once more, a small a allot faster and the cosmic products would ingest prolonged in the past times entirely dispersed. • If the concentration of mystifying way feature been a piddling piece extra, thick area would non be expanding only, thanks to the squeeze of holidaymaker attractor of substance particles, contracting, lastly collapsing. The world would be flourishing often chop-chop than now and no stars and no galaxies would at any clock make conceived if the prelude density were a underage lilliputian act less. • For accounting software and the quantity of a proton are uncomparably very much larger than these of an negatron withal outstandingly fair to middling, these deuce particles take same (withal contrary) electric expenses. Owed to the fact that of this realism atoms are electrically impersonal. If the particle was non neutral electrically, simply roughly every atom would button stake once again the other and the terminated existence would debate bump off. • The 4 determinant forces in the sire nature, in reducing buy of vim, are-- Square atomic press, Feeble atomic force back, Magnetic attraction blackjack, and Gravitational great power. The divergence involving the strongest and the weakest has to do with twenty Little Phoebe adopted by 38 nos. Ease deep down that antic extensive chain the case-by-case and the comparative magnitudes of the forces are delicately very wellspring considerably balanced if not the world would non experience existed. If the product of the free burning cosmos was a miracle, the phylogenesis of life on it was also the claim standardized: • Had our sunlight been xxx% greater it would throw been burned tabu in 4 1000000000000 many years, room as well shorter a fourth dimension for levelheaded lifespan to advancement. Had it been littler sized-- ninety quintet% of stars are smaller sized than the sun-- early challenges would receive adopted. Experient the sunshine non been a imagination of frequent vitality for billions of age, experienced the orb of terra firma altogether roughly sunlight been a moment narrower or wider, experient humankind Jupiter been Interahamwe too approach or mode to a fault a great deal to assistance you preserve worldly concern from the rainfall of steroids, experient genuinely moon around non been so unbelievably great to stabilise the argument of the Earth's axis vertebra to about 23 levels, had the solar system's station in the galaxy been to a fault tight to the border or very much to a fault come near to the eye, modern class of living would cause been crafty. • Carbon copy based generally molecules backside good brook in betwixt the limitations of 120 ° and -20 ° C and globe is the merely [world whose normal temperature amounts tumble within just those limitations. When one thinks about the universe as a whole, coming across a wide variety of temperatures as slim as this is relatively a difficult process considering that temperature degrees in deep area vary from the numerous levels of the most well-liked stars to outright zero (-273 ° C). • Virtually all of the radiation released by the sunshine falls into a solitary band that is ten-25 of the full spectrum. Radiations which are favorable and essential for daily life drop in this narrow band. This is furthermore the only radiation underneath which photosynthesis performs and our eye has the capacity to see. • Drinking water also has extraordinary homes conducive for lifestyle-- shown underneath 4 ° C it expands (so that even if ponds and so on are frozen at area beneath h2o is not), best latent warmth, significant thermal ability, significant thermal conductivity though that of ice and snow is very low, large surface area space pressure, and viscosity, and so on . The to start with move to pleasure is to have an understanding of this delighted but tricky odd of creation and life. We are extremely lucky to have a universe a lot extra so to have a universe whole of existence. Considering the fact that lifetime is so unbelievable earth could be the only earth on which there is existence. In residing beings to be born as person is the happiest point which could ever happen to any one! Delight in! Even if all the disorders for the generation of the universe ended up suitable at the start out, tons of variables had to be perfect for the ensuing formation of the universe. • Our universe is broadening like a polka dotted balloon which is remaining blown out. Now, if the amount of development of the freshly developed universe had differed even truly minutely from what it have been seriously, there would have been no universe. Nonetheless in just that fantastic array the personal and the relative magnitudes of the forces are delicately balanced normally the universe would not have existed. We are exceptionally fortunate to have a universe even more so to have a universe finish of lifetime.

Tell a Tale of You and Me - Chapter Five

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: You knew that  making a bet with Sirius Black was like making a deal with the devil  but you just couldn’t help yourself. You had never been a heavenly  woman.

Warnings: fluff, soft angst, denial of feelings, pining

Words: 2189

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this part! Also, I’ve literally just realised that I’ve passed 300 followers so thank you guys so so much! Let me know what you think and let me know if you would like to be tagged! I love you all xxx

Chapter Five

You rolled your eyes at Lily with a lazy smirk as the both of you waited for the boys to stop stuffing their faces in The Great Hall. Right about now they would most likely be stuffing their pockets full of snacks to have in Transfiguration that afternoon, they’d probably get detention for eating their snacks. Again. Finally, the boys came traipsing out of The Great Hall as if they had all the time in the world. Sirius was scoffing a vanilla cupcake.

“Bloody finally guys,” you giggled as you and your friends walked down the crowded corridors, “Merlin, how many snacks have you got in there?” you asked, gesturing at their bulging robes.

“Want one Y/N?” Sirius asked innocently around a mouthful of cake, you smirked at him before gathering up some vanilla buttercream on your finger before sucking it off, keeping your eyes on Sirius the whole time. He watched, his cheeks deepening to a bright red flush and he made a funny strangled noise in the back of his throat.

Giggling, you punched him in the arm and hung back, fully intending on speaking to Lily. However, before you could get a word out you found yourself face to face with a group of Slytherin girls who were all staring at you.

“Good morning ladies,” Sirius smirked as he walked past them while Remus looked back with a faint blush on his scarred face.

“Run along, Evans, we need to talk to Y/L/N alone,” the tallest one sneered.

Lily looked at you, chewing her lip, she had a worried expression on her face, “I’ll be fine Lil, really can you just tell McGonagall that I’m hung up?” you asked with a brave smile, though you really did feel nervous. Lily nodded before reluctantly walking down the corridor.

You turned back to the Slytherins, your hand gripping the wand in your pocket in case you needed it. You noticed that all of the girls were very pretty. Though, one girl was at the back of the group, she looked very bored to be here.

“You think you’re pretty smart don’t you Y/L/N?” the tallest one snarled again, she was presumably the leader, “you’ve ruined our last year at Hogwarts.”

“Excuse me?” you laughed as you tightened your grip on your wand, “I honestly have got no idea what you’re going on about.”

“This stupid bet that you’ve got going on with Sirius is what we’re on about,” another girl piped up, her brown eyes flashing menacingly, “you want him all to yourself don’t you?”

You seriously couldn’t believe that you were having this conversation right now, if you weren’t so confused it would actually be really amusing, “oh no, you see,” you giggled, “you’ve got the wrong end of the stick entirely. This whole bet thing is just a bit of fun,” and it was but you knew that Sirius was stubborn and he couldn’t resist a challenge.

“Still, I tried to come onto him the other day and he rejected me, he’s never done that before,” the leader said with a note of hurt in her voice, “there’s only one reason why he would do that and it’s not because of some stupid bet. He’s in love with you, haven’t you seen the way he looks at you when he thinks that no one else sees?”

That had to be the funniest thing that you’d heard all year. Surely you would know if one of your best friends was in love with you, wouldn’t you? You sighed as you rolled your eyes, you shouldn’t have had to explain yourself but you did anyway.

“Sirius is not in love with me, I don’t even know if he can love anybody, we’re just friends. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get to class,” you shook your head, feeling completely bewildered at the conversation.

“You’d better watch your back Y/L/N, especially at the Quidditch match tomorrow,” one of them called after you.

Thankfully, you arrived at Transfiguration only a couple of minutes late, McGonagall looked at you sternly, her thin lips were pursed but she didn’t say anything. Sirius smirked at you as you sat down next to Lily. McGonagall announced that they were going to be starting human transfiguration, beginning with changing their hair colour. The class murmured with great interest as McGonagall taught them the incantation and the correct wand movement.

Your spirits were not dampened despite the fact that you – and the rest of the class – were only able to change the length of your hair, rather than the colour. You giggled as Lily’s hair was now a pixie cut, “hey, that really suits you.”

“Thanks Rapunzel,” she grinned at you. Your hair now reached the floor, you didn’t know what to do with so much hair but you kind of liked it.

Just as you were about to get to work on changing your hair back to its original state, you heard a couple of girlish giggles a few desks over from you. You gazed over to the other side of the classroom to see what all the commotion was about and your breath got stuck in your throat. Sirius was cockily smirking at his reflection in the hand mirror that he was holding and he was running his fingers through his hair. It was quite a lot shorter and it was more tousled than it usually was.

The surrounding gaggle of girls were all gazing at him adoringly, causing you to roll your eyes, he never missed a chance to show off. Almost as if he could feel your eyes on him, he turned to face you and winked, it was stupidly unfair how he looked even more handsome with the short fluffy hair he was currently sporting.

“Like what you see Y/N? Are you finally ready to admit that you fancy me?” he smirked, resting his hand on his chin as he stared at you.

“Mr Black,” McGonagall began in a warning voice.

You ignored McGonagall, scoffing at Sirius’ words, “pur-lease, me have a crush on you? No way.”

At your words, the group of girls gasped, Remus and Peter snorted while James just looked uncomfortable. Sirius laughed it off and if you hadn’t turned away you would have seen the pained look that flashed across his face. McGonagall sighed as she looked at you both, unbeknownst to you and Sirius; she had an ongoing bet with Slughorn on when you would finally get together. They’d first made the bet in your 5th year.

Later on that evening, you and Lily were sitting in front of the roaring common room fire as you told her about the Slytherin girl’s ambushing you.

“So, let me get this straight, they had a problem with you because they think that Sirius has a thing for you?” she recited and you nodded.

“Yeah, that’s pretty much the gist of it.”

Lily’s emerald eyes scanned your face, “well, maybe they have a point Y/N,” she held up her hands in mock defence as you glared at her, you couldn’t believe that she was taking their side, “just hear me out, okay? He’s been pouting all afternoon because of what you said in Transfiguration,” her voice lowered as the boys came to join you; she smiled as James kissed her.

Sirius sat in the armchair opposite you, it was true enough that he’d been in a mood all afternoon but it wasn’t your fault, not when he could have any girl he wanted.

“Lighten up Sirius, are you seriously in a mood because I told you that I don’t have a crush on you?” you wanted to make light of the situation, it would certainly make you feel better, “I thought your ego needed a bit of deflating,” you giggled.

“This has got nothing to do with my ego,” he muttered, staring into the fire, “but don’t worry, I’m just being silly,” he shot you a smile that didn’t quite reach those pretty eyes.

You sighed as guilt swirled around in your stomach.

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

The following day, the morning of the first Quidditch game, Sirius was walking down to breakfast on his own, he had woken up late to find that his friends had gone down to breakfast without him. He didn’t realise that he had fake friends. Sirius was so hungry; he was craving something with chocolate or an extremely sugary cereal.

On the way down to breakfast, he ran into something twice as sweet, Y/N. He felt a funny fluttering feeling in his stomach as she smiled at him prettily, though he blamed it on the fact that he was so hungry.

“Hi Y/N,” he grinned and noticed that she was carrying a covered tray, “how are you feeling?”

She grimaced, it didn’t look like she was feeling too good, “nervous, I’ve been up for hours,” she laughed weakly as she chewed on her lip, “these are for you by the way,” she blushed as she uncovered the tray to reveal the most delicious looking chocolate brownies that Sirius had ever seen, “I made them this morning to say thank you for helping me get onto the team.”

Sirius chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair as he took the tray from her, “you really didn’t need to do that but thank you so much,” he blushed, it was an incredibly sweet gesture, “and hey, you were an absolute pleasure to teach,” he smirked. She rolled her eyes but still leaned up to plant a kiss on his warm red cheek anyway.

At breakfast, Sirius helped Lily and Remus finish off the banner that they had created for the match; Remus had drawn a picture of a lion devouring a snake. Remus also stole Sirius’ brownies, pretending not to notice the way that Sirius was glaring at him.

“I’m not hungry James, please I know you mean well but can you stop it? It feels like I’m going to be sick,” Y/N mumbled with her head in her hands. James sighed sympathetically as he rubbed her back. Even though Sirius knew that Y/N couldn’t see him, he smiled at her. No matter what the score came out as, he knew that she would be great.

It seemed like all too soon for before they were walking down to the pitch, Y/N had a sickly tinge to her skin and she wasn’t talking to anybody. Sirius smiled at her before going to sit in the stands with the others, “don’t worry, Y/N. You’re gonna be so great, I know it,” she smiled weakly at him, giving him a quick hug before she followed James into the changing rooms.

“Oh, could you get any more obvious? It’s revolting,” Regulus smirked as he stalked past his older brother. Sirius scoffed, he didn’t know what Regulus was talking about because it was Regulus who had a schoolboy crush on Y/N. He pulled a tongue at the back of Regulus’ head before running to catch up with Remus, Lily and Peter.

The atmosphere was electric as the long awaited Quidditch players finally flew onto the pitch, there were far more cheers than boos. Everybody, well almost everybody wanted to see Gryffindor win the first match of the season, a win would give Sirius and his friends another reason to celebrate at the Halloween feast and Hogsmeade the following day.

Sirius couldn’t see Y/N properly but he could tell that she was smiling; he imagined that her eyes were alight with excitement. He knew that she was completely comfortable now she was up in the air. The game was very exciting, even to begin with, in the first few minutes James scored an amazing goal.

Lily was so happy as she screamed, “that’s my boyfriend!” Sirius just knew that she would be rewarding James for that later on.

Halfway through the game, the crowd gasped in shock as a Slytherin beater aimed a bludger at a Gryffindor chaser, causing him to drop the Quaffle. The Gryffindor’s nose exploded but he soldiered on, refusing to let James call time out. Y/N was certainly pulling out the impressive moves as she looped and swerved, in search of the snitch. Sirius hated to think it but Y/N had her work cut out for her, Regulus was also an excellent seeker.

The young man gasped his heart in his mouth as Regulus and Y/N very nearly collided in the air, he shouted out his admiration, feeling extremely proud when Y/N expertly swerved to avoid Regulus. It was a very close match, Slytherin was leading by fifty points, Sirius was silently praying for Y/N to catch the snitch soon.

After ten more extremely tense minutes, Y/N’s nimble fingers closed around the tiny struggling ball. Sirius whooped and cheered along with Remus and Peter when he realised that Gryffindor had won while Lily sobbed on his shoulder. He looked up and grinned when he saw James and Y/N celebrating with their team, Y/N looked so young and beautiful as she hugged James. Sirius knew that she would always stay that way, for as long as she lived.

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

@approved-by-dentists @thefuturelawyer @a-miserable-hufflepunk @firelordmillie @seriouslysiriuss @sleep-i-ness @play-morezeppelin​ @pregnant-piggy @sleepingalaska @smiithys @blisfvll​ @rexorangecouny​

Bucky & the Beast

Hi all! So this ficlet is for my darling friend Erin’s ( @theassetseyeliner ) AU Writing Challenge! I submitted a request for this prompt on her original post! Please go support her and all the participating authors who worked hard on their submissions :) Now onto the story xxx

Prompt #22: “You were an asshole back in high school but now you’re my boss.”

Overall Tags: a teeny weeny bit of angst, although mostly stifling fluff, some potty mouth language, spicy humor, s l o w b u r n but in ficlet form tho? 

Part 1 of 2

It’s not that you weren’t a nice person...on the inside, very very very deep inside. You just didn’t allow any form of slacking amongst your employees. 

And seeing as you not only own this multi-billion dollar company but also actively run it, you’re pretty sure you have the right to dictate everything that goes on under your nose when it comes to this business. You drove yourself into the grave to get this company where it is now, and you continue to work yourself down to hell every damn day to keep it as successful as it is. 

Of course you know most of your staff views you as a complete tyrant. Of course you know your nickname on all sixty-eight levels of your high rise company building is ‘Bitch’. Of course you know you’re often compared to Miranda Priestly, the star of Devil Wears Prada. Of course you know you’ve been harsh enough to earn some of that resentment.  

But you also know you have the undying respect of every major corporation in the world (which wasn’t easy to get since most of them are fat privileged older men who have too many cultural and moral deficiencies to count). The likes of which was solely earned by unignorable success, brutal consistency, and fear. You wished you didn’t have to be feared in order to be respected by some (most) people, but the ways of the world weren’t going to change that fast unfortunately. 

It surprised you at first how many people tried to take advantage of you, of your company, of your money, of your weaknesses, of practically everything they could manage to find. You were always pretty blunt and a bit maniacal about perfection even back in high school, but having been beaten by an ocean of manipulative greedy people for years now, wave after wave after wave, you’re pretty jagged and dulled to it. You’ve found the only way to survive in this business world is to always expect the worst of people. It keeps you prepared for every situation even if it is an exhausting way to live. 

Sometimes you worry if it is all worth it, but you then remember how much money your company is making and how all of it goes to support people, companies, philanthropies, arts institutions, and schools who need it. If the cost of good being put into this world is your warped personality, then so be it. 

“Barnes I need those write ups on the work Ms. Romanoff’s team did this quarter. I asked for final copies yesterday, why are they late?” You question your head personal assistant in clipped efficient sentences as you strut down the long stretch of a modern elegant hallway, the sleek double doors of your main office looming at the end of it. 

With your Prada high heels clicking sharply (if not a bit ironically) against the marble floor as you make your way to your gilded office, you scroll through an email on your phone sent from one of your board members while you wait for Barnes to put together an answer. The email consists of a polite reminder that you have a Skype call with Stark Industries this afternoon. 

As if you’d forget. 

With a punctuated scoff you burst into your glass office, not having to slow down your stride at all as Barnes moved with practiced haste to hold one of the doors open for you. You don’t bother with a thank you (even if you feel the manners your mother ingrained in you cringe and shriek in horror) but instead head nose up to your simple but stately desk. As you situate yourself behind it, booting up your desktop and quickly scanning some sticky-note reminders Barnes left for you the previous night before crumpling them in one ball and dropping them in the waste bin by your feet, you feel the very short leash you have on your patience strain. 

Without glancing up at him you bark out, “Well?” 

You hear the man clear his throat and know automatically that he’s preparing to take the fall for Romanoff’s team. Barnes always has had this habit to take the heat meant for someone else’s mistake himself, and allow whoever the guilty party is an extra second to fix whatever the problem was. It’s never effected the success of your company, so you’ve always let it slide. If you were being completely honest with yourself you know deep down that that’s why you’ve kept him around so long. James Barnes is the one person (okay maybe besides Natasha Romanoff) who holds the all time record of longest employment in your company. He’s also never been promoted from his place as Head Personal Assistant when you hired him into it a good few years back.  

He’s only craftily brought up the issue of never moving up a few times, not wanting to push his luck with you, but other than that there’s never been a word of complaint like other employees you’ve had. One day when you’ve finally been run down enough, when the world has finally sucked all the life from you, you’ve decided that it’s James who you’ll give the company to. Of course no one knows this, but you made the decision quite some time ago. 

“Ms. Romanoff had an issue with getting a closure on the deal,” Barnes starts up in his trademark baritone tenor of compassion, “She had all the finished documents written up by yesterday, it was me who failed to pass them to you.” 

Still you don’t look at him, but you do silently translate what he’s saying as you open up your email account and start sorting through your inbox for the most important emails. Basically, Barnes is saying:

“Ms. Romanoff had no trouble badgering the client for the final papers, it was the client who failed to turn in everything on time. And since you never blame the client, its professionally Natasha’s fault. So therefore she did not have all the documents written up yesterday but pulled an all-nighter to finish everything and send said polished summary of the transaction to me first thing this morning. I’m lying for her (and probably without her knowledge) because I’m an annoyingly considerate man with pretty eyes and a wicked sharp jaw who is used to your unforgiving nature and shall take the fall for everyone because I am this company’s sparkling hero.” 

Resolutely put-off with the very unprofessional way your mental translation ended up going, your mood sours sufficiently from its already foul natural state. You feel your face pinch deeper into its usual dissatisfied scowl. 

“It is very unlike Ms. Romanoff to have any delays in her work. Give her one of my warnings.” You say in a mildly bitter tone as you reach a hand blindly over your desk towards Barnes in silent demand, while clicking on an email with the other hand and scanning it halfheartedly at the same time.

A packet of paper is slid gently into your expecting fingers and as you place them on the desk space beside your angled keyboard, you hear Barnes tap his thumbs across his phone as he sends you an e-copy of the papers you were just handed. When the email arrives in your inbox with a ding, it serves as the only acknowledgment that you received the email. It also is simultaneously Barnes’ dismissal. 

Only when you hear your assistant sit down at his own smaller desk across the room from yours and start shuffling papers and things around, do you realize that you had automatically begun reading through the transaction summary he sent you. After you triple proof it (even if Natasha has never once made a mistake on her write ups), you forward everything to the cooperation partnering with you on this deal. Your trademark punctuality and promised results the only things that matter to you much these days. 

You cut a quick side glance across the room at Barnes hunched over his own pile of work and wonder if you said thank you the next time he held the door open for you, if he’d make a big deal out of it. With an internal scoff you brush your gushy feelings swiftly away and replace them with your self-made workaholic robot. 

Bucky’s patience with you is growing shorter and shorter each year, month, week, day, and second he works under you. Outwardly he’s mastered himself, but inwardly he’s been stewing and is quite near his boiling point. As he halfheartedly unclips a review packet from one of the company’s specialty divisions to go over before he hands it to you -- Miss Wicked Bitch of Best -- he wonders if it would kill you to say thank you when he opened the door, or maybe look at him when he talks. Bucky doesn’t even know what color your eyes are because he doesn’t think you’ve ever actually looked him in the eyes before. 

And sure you take him to all the fancy business galas and parties and soirees and events and fundraisers, but you always maintain this formal professional wall. Even late nights at the office when it’s literally you, him, and a couple janitors (hell, you’ve both even slept at the office before) you still remain aloof and unapproachable. It’s not like he wants to get to know you, because honestly you seem like a pretty lonely sad bitter person anyway, but it’s downright unnatural how little anyone seems to know about you. Even when he wades through his high school memories, all he can remember about you is vaguely labeling you an asshole. Which really doesn’t help your case. 

But if Bucky knows anything, it’s that no one is an unfeeling robot. 

Even if they pretend to be, even if they believe themselves to be, there is always something down there. At the bottom of a soul there is always a nugget of brilliance. Bucky knows you’re not oblivious to what people say about you, but he wonders whether you just don’t care or you’ve crafted it that way to wield as a tool. He’s not sure which one is worse. Either way he thinks that you could handle things a bit more considerately and still have the respect you deserve. Because if there is one thing Bucky has to admire, it’s your resilience and unyielding desire to see things through. Your dedication to the company and all the good it brings is your one redeeming quality. You also have never done under the table deals or slipped into black market territory, its one of the reasons Bucky hasn’t quit. This company is clean and good and successful. Which is saying a lot in this economy. You also never under pay or over pay your employees, and you’re brutal but you’re fair. 

And as Bucky’s thoughts circle back to stifling aggravation as he watches you type away unfussed and unpleasant as ever at your elevated desk, he goes to curl his hair behind his ear, per habit, to shake himself free of his thoughts, but realizes quite abruptly that he can’t. You had asked (well more like threatened and demanded) him to cut his long hair, claiming it ‘ruined the aesthetic and feel that this company represents’ and finds his aggravation churning into poorly bottled fury. Other people in your employment had long hair, I mean you didn’t really uphold any restrictions on hair, hats, head-dresses, or any type of clothing as long as you were put together. So it literally made no sense that Bucky was singled out. 

Little did he know you asked him to cut it because those dark luscious locks were distracting as hell and made him too handsome for you to be able to rationally handle. I mean you were around him practically 24 hours a day, bless your soul. You know it was a horrible play on power, and probably earned you a one-way ticket to hell, but you’d rather come off posturing and domineering than love sick or undisciplined. I mean he was just as good looking with it cut short, but you told yourself the short hair made it easier to ignore him as a man and see him only as your assistant. 

But much to your chagrin it really, really didn’t help.

“Barnes close out the rest of this meeting. Summarize it to me in detail on the way to the fundraiser.” You bark after you politely dismissed yourself from the Skype call with Tony Stark, the call on mute as you stand from your chair and crisply motion for Barnes to replace you.

Bucky grits his teeth and nods when you brush past him, trying not to let the fact that you assumed (as you always did) he’d be attending the fundraiser with you tonight and left him to clean up after you with the meeting pleasantries, anger him to the point of hysteria. He wasn’t your maid for Christ's sake, and just because he wouldn’t miss the fundraiser because of the opportunity to meet clients and business partners, why the hell did you always hitch him to your wagon for the evening?  

You exit the conference room with a blooming confidence and a rare small smile the second you’re in a private enough area to let the expression soften your face. The itch to go back in there and make sure everything finished okay spreads under your skin like a rash but you breathe and stay rigid with yourself, knowing that in order to properly groom Barnes for your job one day, you had to learn to delegate to him more than you used to. And closing out a deal, especially with one as important as Stark Industries, was major. Barnes is more than capable though, and a small part of you is...proud of him. 

You’re not sure when this nugget of utter blind faith in him started to become something much more complicated than trust in an employee, and developed into something dangerous. Dangerous like awe and adoration dangerous. Dangerous like fond dangerous. Dangerous like love dangerous.

The long clean leather seat of the limo separates you two. 

You give Barnes your (mostly) undivided attention as he dutifully regales the deal closure with Stark this afternoon. You’re scrolling through your email, then your calendar, then your messages trying to avoid looking up at Barnes. The second you spotted him in one of his gala tuxes, it’s your favorite one of his actually since he rotates through them (I mean you don’t expect him to buy a new one for every event, you’re not that unreasonable), you knew it would be a long goddamn night. The subtle navy shine of the tux catches in the corner of your eye under the dimmed lights of the luxury car no matter how hard you stare at your phone screen. 

When he finishes his report you nod your approval knowing that’s all he’s used to getting from you in terms of praise. With a knot of anxiety growing by the second in the back of your throat, making it almost impossible to breathe, you glance up at him from under your lashes. He’s mirroring you across the car, phone out, focus down, and body held with the formality you insisted be constantly upheld between you. 

The first thing your eyes land on is his exposed clavicle where his collarbone frames the base of his neck. In this rare indulged moment of weakness you allow yourself to wonder what the hollow of his neck would taste like, what would it feel like against the texture of your lips. With great effort you drag your eyes away from the tempting oasis of his skin to sprawl along the sleek dark navy of his outer coat. The button up underneath is a stark crisp white, accenting the tan of his skin and drawing your gaze back inevitably to his revealed skin. The first few buttons of the dress shirt are undone and the stiff folded collar is laid open in a roguish carefree type fashion. 

Since the fundraiser is more lowkey and relaxed, you don’t have the excuse to reprimand him for no tie, to demand he cover up that tease of skin and hint of peck muscles. No, you were doomed to suffer because the tailored pants did little to help either. The clean line of the material hugs his thighs, two long strong twin muscles that bunch a bit when he stands or sits down. You cross your legs as something heavy and hot settles in your core, startling you a bit out of the spell Bucky unknowingly put you under. 

A bit desperately you try to find a fault, something to pick apart, some straggling imperfection to prove to yourself that you are uneffected by this man. And you quickly realize you can’t because when you look past his attire, the naked allure of his features takes you by storm. His hair is as rich as ever, styled lightly to allow the slight wave in the coffee locks the freedom to curl away from his forehead and settle in a small wave atop his head. Strong brows stand guard over the softness of his eyes, the glacial blue of the irises protected further by a swath of sooty lashes.The straight nose and full generous mouth sit atop a sturdy chin, a gentle cleft runs down the middle of it adding to his seemingly endless good looks. His jaw as you’ve observed many a time is as sharp and wicked as ever. 

“You didn’t shave.” 

The observation escapes your lips before you could wrangle it back behind the bars of your clenched teeth. Bucky’s eyes jump up at you like you had yelled at him instead of spoken in a normal tone. But its then you realize that it wasn’t a normal tone at all, it was, you...you spoke to him softly --

“Um no.” Bucky answers a bit uncertainly, not sure where you’re taking this. You never comment on his appearance or attire unless it’s to criticize it. He waits inevitably for the verbal lashing.

When the lashing doesn’t come and you both just continue to stare at each other in throbbing silence, Bucky feels awkwardness lay like a heavy blanket over you two. It’s almost startles him when he sees that you’re looking at him. And not just looking at him, but looking him in the eyes. 

“It, It’s just a bit of stubble,” Bucky struggles out, trying to make any kind of sense of the current situation, “I thought since it’s going to be a more, um, relaxed atmosphere I could get away with it. I can go buy a razor and shave it off before we get there if you...want...” 

Bucky mentally kicks himself for offering, I mean how pathetic. But the stumbling words were better than the silence because for some reason the silence felt different then usual, it felt dangerous. 

“No, no,” You eventually say as your brain continues to churn itself into fluffy goo when Bucky shifts his phone and his bicep pushes up protestingly against the smooth sleeve of his tux. “It’s fine.” 

Without another word you lock down the vulnerability you feel leaking onto the canvas of your face and shove your gaze back down to your phone.You will yourself not to blush. 

The rest of the car ride passes in tense silence. It’s the most exposed you’ve felt in a while, to say the least.

The fundraiser has been going like all of them do: clinically well. Bucky expects no less when you’re in attendance though. The dinner wasn’t the best he’s ever had but he made sure not to leave anything on his plate weary of wasting food. You sat perched and cool as ever beside him, engaging in the usual articulate oratory games with the clients and business partners seated at your large table. 

Why Bucky kept expecting you to act different confuses him. He keeps waiting for something to change, for a small tiny hint that something has shifted in you, or maybe between you and him, he doesn’t know. Just something. And when you make him feel like a fool for assuming such a thing by acting the exact same way you always have, Bucky kicks himself. One weird conversation in the limo and he’s hoping for...hoping for what? 

With an internal scoff he tunes back into the conversation, and just in time because you hand the topic reigns to him in that moment and suddenly Bucky is leading everybody into his own oratory arena. 

You take a measured sip from your water glass as Bucky effortlessly accepts the responsibility of the conversation and takes it away. Being able to hold a conversation in a small meeting is one thing, but being able to lead an entire table of sponsors, clients, partners, and whoever else into complex discussion is quite another. You try not to let your pride produce too many butterflies in your stomach as you continue to sip your water and listen to the man beside you prove to you how very deserving he is of what you plan to give to him one day. 

“Ms. Y/l/n,” Bucky says as everyone starts getting up to dance when the live band plays something easy and fun for the guests. You turn towards him slightly in your seat and bring your glass down from your lips as an indication to speak. “May I go say hello to Ms. Romanoff and Mr. Rogers?” 

Your eyes zip over Bucky’s shoulder and land across the reception hall on the table where all your best employees are sitting laughing and enjoying themselves, some of them getting up to dance. For a quick beat you consider keeping Barnes all to yourself but know how selfish and petty that would be. You know Barnes is nearly sick of you. 

“Please,” You relent as kindly and professionally as you can manage, motioning with your glass towards his friends, “Go enjoy.” 

With a quick (if a little bitter) thank you, Barnes blasts away from you to join the merriment across the room. You heard the hint of potent distaste Barnes had having to ask your permission to leave your side and wonder if you’ve let yourself become to much of the monster you thought you had to be in order to be successful. 

And maybe it’s not just to be successful, maybe you donned a monster’s skin to protect yourself. 

You know that if you took away the pretty cool collected skin of that monster, a jagged scared furious soul would be revealed. A sigh and another sip of water is the only outward sign you give that broadcasts your constant inner turmoil. 

“Damn! Wicked Bitch of the Best let you go? Impossible,” Nat croons as Bucky plops into the seat Sam offers him as he hurries out onto the dance floor with a chick from accounting. 

“Ha ha very funny,” Bucky bites back as he relaxes down into the chair while pouring himself a brimming glass of champagne, chugging it all back in one go. 

Steve, sitting on his other side, raises his eyebrow at his friend’s large shot, “I take it business is done for the night.” 

Bucky places the glass flute down carefully on the tablecloth and rolls his lips in as he swallows. 

“Yep,” Bucky breathes, catching his breath a little, “I believe ‘Please, go enjoy’ were her exact words.” He states in heavy sarcasm as he runs a hand through his hair, pouring himself another glass. 

“How generous of her,” Nat allows before standing up and offering her hand down to Bucky, “And now something generous from me.” 

Bucky eyes Nat’s hand suspiciously over the lip of his glass. Natasha was pretty nice (if she felt like it), but she never gave out freebies. He follows the line of her arm up to her severe beautiful face. He squints at the look in her eye. 

“Dance with me,” She says with a roll of her eyes at his well placed suspicion, “It’s a thank you for covering my ass the other day even though I specifically told you not.” Natasha informs in jesting but fond reprimand. 

Bucky smirks at her, appeased, and takes her hand.

“No complaints here then doll.” 

Steve laughs as they zip off to the dance floor.

Watching Bucky with his friends, then dance with Ms. Romano -- with Natasha, that familiar haunting feeling that you know is loneliness begins to seep into your bones and saturate your soul. It’s loneliness that is so thick, so inexorable, you have trouble breathing. Trying not to make your movements too jerky as to call alarm you stand and make your way out of the hall. You’re intercepted a few times, making your final formal goodbyes and thanks, before heading out to the street. 

You call your driver and have him take you back to the company. 

It takes all your self control and dignity to keep from out right running to your floor. When you make it there about a century later, you burst into your moonlit office and shut off all the security cameras in it. That’s when you lose it. 

With harsh tears running down your cheeks and ruining your make up you violently through yourself into your desk chair and start going through files of successful projects. You slowly but surely remind yourself why your doing this, why life has to be so hard. All the good you’re giving to the world is worth something, its worth this loneliness...it is. 

It’s worth it, its worth it, its worth it, its worth it, its worth it...

You repeat this in your head as you continue to review years old projects and partnerships and lives that you have bettered. Though the tears and throat-wracking sobs never stop, you eventually convince yourself it’s enough. 

Bucky was informed first thing this morning by the front desk that the security cameras in Ms. Y/l/n’s office were turned off at about 11:30pm last night and have not been turned back on. Seeing as it’s only you and Bucky who have the codes to do that, Bucky wasn’t too concerned because the other cameras proved it was you who had entered the office last night. Bucky wasn’t quite sure why you felt the need for that much privacy but he shook himself free of the disturbingly instinctual urge to care. 

When he gets to the fogged-glass double doors and pulls on the sleek handles only to realize they’re locked, he hesitates in opening them with his copy of the key. Instead he finds himself knocking. 

“Ms. Y/l/n?” He calls politely, professionally. 

You jerk awake at your desk. Your head pounds with dehydration and the entire right side of your face is stiff and indented with red lines that make up about half of your keyboard. The desktop in front of you is asleep, the large black screen serves as a mirror to reflect to you your less than put together appearance. 

Your make up is a crusting mess, your hair is sticking out every which way, and your eyes are about as puffy and red as Rudolph's nose. 

“Ms. Y/l/n? Are you, are you alright?” 

At the sound of Barnes’ voice on the otherside of the office doors, a horrible twisting flare of panic lights up in your gut. Trying to remain calm, you stand up only to collapse back down into the chair because one of your legs fell asleep. 

“I’m fine Jam -- Barnes, just go do the morning rounds, please.” You stutter as you limp like Gollum (sans your heels from last night) across your pristine office to the private bathroom with a closet you keep extra clothes and things in. 

Bucky is near speechless and knows something is wrong now. You almost called him James for one, and even more disturbing...you said please. He’s unsure if he should leave you in such an obviously confused state of mind, but figures he’d only earn himself a punishment if he intruded or was somehow wrong that you were indeed having a, a moment. 

“I’ll be back in twenty to discuss the profits made last night.” Bucky found himself informing, not sure why he felt the need to give her a time to be ready by. 

What an odd feeling to know that for once, you weren’t thirty steps ahead of him. It’s the first sign of humanity he’s seen you display and it’s tripping him out. 

You listen carefully as his footsteps fade away down the hallway and you throw yourself into getting ready. Twenty minutes later Bucky knocks and you call him in. You can feel him analyzing you, looking around for something out of place, but you made sure to hide any evidence of a disturbance or weakness. 

Bucky finds you pristine and cool and severe as ever, and he realizes that the sinking in his gut is disappointment. Not that he wants to see you struggling, but for a sign you are more than a robot. That you trust him enough to reveal at least that. But you carry on normal and cold and Bucky reminds himself again to stop searching for something that isn’t there. 

“Oh god!” You shriek, you shriek, in surprise as you burst into a storage closet intent on finding an ink cartage (since you had Bucky in a minor meeting with the board, you know power delegation and all, and were more than capable of finding ink on your own dammit), and instead find Steve Rogers and Peggy Carter engaging in some...heavy petting. 

The two of them share your immense shock and separate like oil in water, cheeks, ears, and necks red as roses. They both wait for you to do something, but you continue to stand there like it was you who was walked in on. Slowly you walk across the small room, thanking every god you could think of that the ink cartridges were on the opposite side of the space than Steve and Peggy were standing in, and retrieve your ink with their eyes guiltily following your every move. 

Before you leave you heft a neutral glance over your shoulder and say, 

“Rogers those charts better be in four, and Carter if I don’t have those reports in my inbox by the end of the day I’ll be very displeased.” And with your face safely turned back towards the hallway you say with a little smirk on your face, “Excuse the interruption.”  

You hear the two collapse into hushed horrified laughter muffled behind the door as you strut back to your office with a poorly concealed smile on your face and the urge to giggle bottled up tight in your throat. 

Barnes returns from the meeting with a muted breezy expression on his face which you’ve learned to interpret that meant things went well. You listen to him summarize the meeting for you while pretending to read one of the charts Rogers just sent you on your computer. The memory of finding them in the closet this afternoon hits you hard and you have to cough in order to stop the laugh bubbling along your throat and tickling your tongue. 

Bucky pauses thinking your cough was a sign to stop talking, but when you glance side ways at him and raise an eyebrow he hurriedly continues on. It’s not until you both have settled at your respective desks across the room and Bucky gets up and heads to the printer stationed on a desk against the wall, that things start to head down hill. 

It’s not until you notice him fiddling with the printer making grumbling sounds of obvious annoyance (which you don’t find adorable, you don’t) that you realize belatedly that you still hadn’t put in the new cartridge. Wordlessly you stand, grabbing the ink cartridge off your desk, and head over to the printer. Bucky moves over and watches you take out the empty cartridge and drop it in the waste bin by your feet. And when you take the new one out of its thin box and plastic wrapping, you feel your resistance to the hilarity you went through to get it quickly dissolve. 

You stand frozen staring down at the ink for long enough that Bucky thinks you might not know how to put it in, even if you did just take out the old cartridge. 

“Would you like me to do it?” He offers as neutrally as he can, getting all sorts of weird vibes from the expression that keeps flickering across your down turned face. 

And you break.

It might have been Bucky’s words, or just the ink cartridge sitting oh so innocently in your palm, but it was most likely the vivid memory of walking in on Steve and Peggy. You start laughing. At first it’s under your breath, but the more you try to contain the sound the more out of your grasp it gets. You look up as your laughter gets more confident, brighter, and you find Bucky staring at you like you’ve finally lost it. Maybe you have because you burst into even louder laughter, the noise colorful and easy, falling into snickers when you need to breathe before returning with a cackling vengeance as you push the air back out. 

Bucky doesn’t know whether to be disturbed or entranced. It hits him hard then that he’s never actually seen you laugh, or smile for that matter. And not a business smile but a real one, the one you’re giving him right now. He finds himself smiling to, grinning ear to ear as he watches you collapse into infectious gorgeous laughter. 

“Oh god,” You wheeze as you try to mop up some of the tears from the corners of your eyes, but the words only remind you how you had shrieked them earlier and another peel of giggles wrings themselves out of you. 

Bucky is utterly speechless. He’s in complete awe. The woman standing before him is alive and vibrant and laughing. So this is what he’s been hunting for inside that cruel robot all these years. This is who he’s unconsciously been holding out for. She’s real. She’s here with him finally. 

“What,” Bucky stutters and loses his train of thought as you face him again and he’s left stupefied by the happiness in your face, how beautiful it makes you. I mean you were always beautiful, but in a cruel removed wave. Like you would eat him alive instead of grace him with a smile. 

“It’s nothing,” You attempt to recover through another giggle, “I just intruded on some, some frivolity earlier.” 

Bucky nods not satisfied in the least with just that, not wanting this moment to end. Not wanting this woman to disappear behind a maze of masks to a place he can’t reach. But the inevitable happens and he watches, silently mournful, as the walls come back up and the monster’s skin is pulled back on. With a sniff you efficiently change the cartridge and turn away without another word, your scowl returned to the throne of your lips once more. 

Part 2

And yes it’ll only be two parts...probably. lol. leave a comment in you wanna and your support is always appreciated! I promise to answer all my asks and respond to all my messages soon! xxx

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