[`✦ / heaven is a place on earth. ━━ ]

[yves]

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ WOUNDS
au, men in black-inspired ━━ character, lexi wang
word count, 665 ━━ date written, 29/06/2020 ━━ content warnings, injury; no graphic description

Even after Ayla received her long-awaited promotion to regular agent status, she and Lexi continued to work together on missions. When OPERA determined the couple (in the literal sense of the word by this point) effective partners, it became uncommon to see the two of them not working a case together. Although Ayla and Lexi were officially dating, they kept professionalism while on duty — which was mainly thanks to Lexi, who proceeded to ensure Ayla didn’t get herself into trouble due to a reckless decision.

Yet the pair had to call it a day that evening after Ayla (which was very on-brand for such an impulsive agent like her) managed to get caught up in an accident. It wasn’t a serious injury, thankfully; it wasn’t something a bit of cleaning and dressing wouldn’t solve. Lexi perched at the edge of the bed beside Ayla in their motel room, proceeding to gently wipe the wound on Ayla’s abdomen with a damp cloth.

“We always seem to find ourselves in situations like this, huh?” Ayla laughed, though she winced a little as she repositioned her posture.

“That’s because you haven’t changed,” replied Lexi plainly, squeezing out the excess water as she soaked the cloth in the bowl of saline solution next to her.

“Hey, no fair! Damn it,” Ayla paused as she grimaced; her elaborate hand gestures managed to put a strain on the cut on her stomach. “This time I thought I had it — I really thought it was a good idea th— oh, you’re just joking.” Ayla’s realisation hit when she noticed a small smile dance upon Lexi’s lips, followed by a nod as she glanced back down to resume focus on tending to Ayla’s wound. “I guess I’m still not used to you joking around.”

It was typically difficult for Ayla to sit still without adjusting her position every five or so minutes, so she resorted to tapping her leg in a rhythmic fashion. The chattering and music travelling through the thin walls of the motel distracted Ayla from fidgeting enough, but the simple action appeared to further help her maintain her focus. At least, it was enough while Lexi continued to dry the cut with a clean towel and apply a bandage.

“That should make do for the time being, at least until we can get back to the HQ hospital tomorrow,” mused Lexi, taking glances between Ayla and observing the dressing. Sure, Lexi has done this countless times before, but it didn’t help the tenacious feeling that something could get infected or bleed out if she applied the dressing even slightly incorrectly. “You sure it’s not too tight?”

“I’m sure, stop fretting! I’ll be fine, won’t I? I’ve made it this far, I must have thick skin or an infinite blood supply, or something,” Ayla replied casually, carefully tugging her shirt back down to cover the dressed wound. She shifted her body so she sat cross-legged adjacent to Lexi, who just turned to face her. “Y’know, I could’ve learnt from my mistakes of being impulsive, but maybe I just can’t let go of the idea of being stitched up by the love of my life,” Ayla grinned with a glint in her eye.

“I don’t believe that for a second.” Lexi narrowed her eyes, but a familiar smile tugged on her features as she shuffled closer to Ayla. “You know I love you, though,” she said softly. Gradually, Lexi leaned in towards Ayla to briskly kiss her on the lips, before hastily pulling away again. As always, Ayla’s eyes widened in shock by the time Lexi had returned back to her usual sitting position.

“Hey! If you’re gonna kiss me, at least do it properly! More than one tiny millisecond, at least!” With that, Ayla managed to finally crack Lexi to let out a laugh — nothing major like a huge bellow, but a short chuckle left her lips at the very least.

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

xxxx━━━

author’s note, this is kinda poor quality but i wanted to write something short (e.g. the tender sapphic gesture where one tends to the other’s wounds) for this ship i have with my girlfriend i’ve mentioned multiple times throughout this thread... hehe. my girlfriend’s oc is ayla!

[yves]

illustration by fali.

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ VALENTINE’S DAY
au, stranger things (2016—present) ━━ character, sydney trachtenberg
word count, 1,201 ━━ date written, 18/07/2020 ━━ content warnings, none

Valentine’s Day was one of the holidays Hawkins High made a big deal out of — from anonymous love letters from secret admirers even to a whole separate Valentine’s Day dance. Every year students would boast about receiving more Valentine’s than their peers, to the point the fun tradition becomes a competition. It was particularly prominent for the popular girls who maintained their reign over the social hierarchy, including Sydney.

Being part of the popular in-crowd, Sydney was no stranger to receiving a multitude of Valentine’s cards every February fourteenth. Each year several square-shaped pieces of card would wind up in her locker, some dotted with pink and red hearts. It was the apparent “perk” of being both pretty and popular. Yet Sydney had no interest in gloating over how many secret admirers she allegedly has; like her junior year, it was her second year in a row of not being single. She only had her eyes on one person — one girl.

Sydney loved Jess; she really, really did. But there was something in her that didn’t want to make the relationship public; maybe someday, just not this soon. It meant coming out, and that came with a huge risk of her dad catching on. Instead, the couple were forced to rely on meeting in empty rooms and behind the bleachers between classes, while simultaneously pretending they don’t even know each other if Sydney caught Jess’ eye in the corridor.

The idea of sneaking a Valentine’s Day card to your lover hugely appealed here for one reason: it was entirely anonymous. Thus, it was exactly what Sydney intended to do.

After squeezing between the tight crowd of students heading towards their first period, Sydney quickened her pace to a trot as she attempted to locate Jess’ locker. As far as her friends were aware, she had hastily rushed off to the bathroom — a classic age-old excuse, but Sydney was never the one for lying and thinking on the spot. Coming to an abrupt standstill in front of Jess’ locker, Sydney glanced around her to ensure the corridor was completely empty. While the pair of them kept this secret dating under the radar from the whole school, Sydney had picked up a particular habit to be overly cautious at all times. It was better to be safe than sorry — and outed to her friends, and her dad.

Retrieving a small piece of card from her bag, Sydney glanced down at it in her hands — a simple Valentine’s Day card adorned with tiny red hearts, and the cursive written inside was anonymously signed off. It was a painfully sappy and cheesy tradition, but it was a little way Sydney could show the immense love she held for Jess. On her tiptoes, she attempted to stuff the card into one of the vents of the locker — only finding the exact angle to slip it in was proving it to be a lot more difficult than Sydney had anticipated.

“Just — go — in — damn it,” she grumbled under her breath as she proceeded with her very fruitful attempts of shoving the handmade card into her secret girlfriend’s locker. It didn’t help her cause that she knew the final bell could ring at any moment.

Then, a voice came from apparently nowhere that surprised Sydney to the point she jumped a little. Perhaps dating your girlfriend behind closed doors took a toll on Sydney’s paranoia.

“Need any help, Syd?”

Hastily turning around as a gasp escaped Sydney’s lips, Jess came into view with her hand resting against the locker next door and a slight smug grin dancing upon her features. At least a relieved sigh left her breath as Sydney saw her girlfriend standing in front of her — she didn’t want to think about what might have happened if anyone else saw her trying to shove a Valentine's into the resident bad girl’s locker. That would surely spread around Hawkins like a wildfire — a popular girl canoodling with the school lesbo.

“I —” Rendered almost speechless, merely a red hue coloured Sydney’s cheeks as a feeling of embarrassment instantly washed over her. She stared down at the card sitting idly in her hands. “It’s kinda small, and not to mention sappy but… I just wanted to do something,” she said, glancing up at Jess with wide, doe-like eyes.

“Well, you’re not being very subtle about it,” Jess smirked, though it was evident she was harmlessly teasing. “You see, I have practice at this thing, considering I stuffed one in your locker last year.”

“I was trying! It’s not my fault the vents are stupidly too small!” Sydney replied defensively with a slightly overdramatic pout. She paused. “Wait… that was you?” The one Valentine that stood out to her last year, written in a somewhat untidy scrawl, turned out to be Jess all along.

Jess took the card from Sydney’s fumbling hands, flipping it over so she could read the short message. “At least I changed up the handwriting a bit,” Jess remarked in a lighthearted tone.

“Well — I didn’t know how to change up the writing, really… And I assumed you would have guessed who sent it regardless!” Sydney frowned, though her cheeks only continued to turn redder and redder as time went on.

“Relax, Syd. It’s fine,” chuckled Jess, and she proceeded to give the hallway a once-over, glancing between either end of the corridor and her evidently stressed girlfriend. “I love it,” she whispered, leaning in to place a kiss upon Sydney’s forehead. Soft lips touched Sydney’s head and she momentarily felt her body tense up — and relax. It turned out she never quite got over how gentle Jess’ kisses could be.

A shrill ringing echoed down the corridor, signalling the final warning before first period, which was the moment Jess immediately pulled away from Sydney, who had become even more cherry-pink in the face. However, a tiny smile still played on her features. She wished she could do this kind of thing more often — and she could tell Jess felt the same. She longed to kiss Jess in the middle of the school hallway surrounded by students, free from judgment at the sight of two girls kissing.

“I better be off — especially when the girls must think I’m taking a really long trip to the bathroom.” A small laugh left her mouth before she hastily turned around and began to head towards her first period.

“Hey, Syd,” Jess’ arm extended and lightly grasped Sydney’s wrist, and Sydney instantly spun her head around to stare up at Jess. Her arm dropped to her side again. “If we don’t see each other for the rest of the day, meet me in the junkyard this evening, yeah? I might have my own surprise, too.” Jess’ lips curled to a smirk to return Sydney’s curious smile of acknowledgement. Another pause ensued. “You better go, I gather a priss like you wouldn’t wanna be late,” Jess teased.

With that, the two girls finally started down the corridor in separate directions. If only they could have done this like any other couple that attended Hawkins High.

xxxx━━━

author’s note, ahhhh these two are so fun to write i swear,,,, particularly after the main plot of our AU where they started dating (albeit in secret due to sydney still being in the closet + unable to come out). they deserve to be their goofy selves and be able to show affection for each other in public. DAMN IT.

[yves]

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ROSE & CROWN
au, 1940-50s england ━━ character, catherine mcalpine
word count, 651 ━━ date written, 22/07/2020 ━━ content warnings, alcohol

An amiable babble filled the atmosphere of the Rose and Crown, with the occasional roaring of laughter from one of the booths. The pub was a common location where Catherine would visit, alone, to simply write. She often found it easier to concentrate with background chatter and general atmospheric sounds, along with a dim overhead lamp and, sometimes, a half-pint of beer by her side.

However, as tradition went on Fridays, Catherine had company. As well as Alfie (and also Diana, who was currently sitting underneath the table and playing a make-believe game of sorts) she was accompanied by Alfie’s work colleagues. When together and outside of work, they were rowdy — particularly in the pub and after a couple of pints. But it was a laugh, and they were all having fun and enjoying themselves after a particularly long week of working. Except maybe Catherine and Alfie, but the couple were already aware that their marriage was becoming tense. Yet they also knew they had to keep up this act for the time-being: for Alfie’s colleagues and, most importantly, for their daughter Diana who deserved two loving parents who aren’t divorced.

“Right then, who’s for another round?” one of Alfie’s colleagues questioned, breaking the brief silence after the recent conversation. He placed his empty pint glass on the dark oak tabletop, among the other glasses that were either emptied completely or with the mere remnants of beer left at the bottom.

“I’ll go — for a change,” Catherine answered impulsively, slowly coming to a stand when she caught Alfie’s colleague about to object to her offer. “No, no, I insist. I could benefit from stretching my legs a little bit, anyway,” she briskly corrected herself, flashing a slight smile to the others. It was technically true: she genuinely did want to get up for at least five minutes and walk around a little bit. She wanted a quick breather for a few moments and, besides, she was sitting on the outside of the booth, so it was naturally easier.

Squeezing out of the booth, Catherine made a beeline for the bar at the centre, passing several tables packed full of people on her way. The Rose and Crown was pretty busy — it was a typical Friday evening at six o’clock; there were a mixture of Londoners coming out for a drink with their friends, as well as families out for dinner as an end-of-the-week treat.

Catherine located a gap beside the bar and she instinctively quickened her pace so she could reach it before somebody else came along. Fingers lightly drummed the top of the counter as she patiently waited to be served, when Catherine stole a glance of the woman perched on the stool beside her. This woman had wavy blonde hair that fell to past her shoulder, brought out by piercing blue eyes. Admittedly, she was quite a pretty lady — nobody could deny that.

“You don’t look like you’re from around here, darlin’. What brings you to my neck of the woods?” the blonde woman questioned, in an attempt to start a conversation that initially took Catherine aback a little. She spoke with poise, and it sounded as though she potentially belonged to a higher class, which only directly contradicted what she was about to add, “Doesn’t look like a pub would suit you well.”

And yet, something about this woman seemed to intrigue Catherine. “Me? What about you? You don’t sound like you’re from around here, if you don’t mind me saying,” she replied, though an amused smile shaped her lips. Instantly, there was a distinguishing contrast between Catherine’s accent and this other woman’s. “What are you doing — I mean, I wouldn’t have expected someone of your — your — your status, I suppose, to be found somewhere like this, out of all places,” Catherine added, a hint of curiosity retaining in her voice.

xxxx━━━

author’s note, this is in fact a roleplay reply!! but since it was my first post for said rp, i think it’s long enough to classify as a drabble. catherine is my oc, a young woman who grew up in the countryside, only to move into the city of london with her husband. my girlfriend’s oc is nancy, a woman born into an aristocratic family, despite frequenting at the local pubs to hang out with commoners. this roleplay reply/drabble is their first meeting. (fun fact: i had the guernsey literary and potato peel pie society on in the background while watching this -- considering lily james is catherine’s face claim!)

[yves]

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ PATROL
au, buffy the vampire slayer (1997—2003) ━━ character, lauren gardner
word count, 649 ━━ date written, 30/07/2020 ━━ content warnings, none

Every day was the same for Lauren, with daily nightly patrols, as well as consistent training with her Watcher. She felt like she accepted this was her life from now on; she was a Slayer, and there was nothing she could do to change that. She hung out in cemeteries and abandoned playgrounds every night, ridding Alexandria of vampires and other demons. It was her destiny, if such a thing exists. Lauren supposed she was happy with that.

Usually, Ethan or Emmie accompanied her on patrol — or, like the majority of the time, she’d go alone. The added company was fun every now and then (not to mention helpful) but Lauren always found it easier to work alone. So, much to her dismay and under Bennett’s instruction, the new Slayer was walking beside Lauren on her right.

Julia. A second Slayer in Alexandria, and the girl Emmie couldn’t stop talking about ever since she met her the other day. It was something Lauren definitely did not expect — while she was aware of one other active Slayer called Faith solely because it was information Bennett passed to her, yet another active Slayer was something Lauren could never have anticipated. As well as that, Julia came to Alexandria of all places in America.

Lauren didn’t want to hate Julia, she really didn’t. Normally, Lauren often aimed to avoid conflict and remained somewhat compliant. But, for a reason unbeknownst to her, she didn’t like Julia. Plain and simple.

Perhaps it was the looming anxiety of Emmie replacing her for this new Slayer. Lauren still would have Ethan… or would she? Him and Emmie had been best friends for as long as they could remember — so in theory, he’d stick by her side no matter what. Sure, Lauren only knew the two of them for a little over a year now, but they already felt so close. Just them as a trio. Would they really dump her for the first other Slayer to come along?

Tenaciously refusing for her eyes to meet Julia’s, Lauren plainly wandered along next to her. Eyes and ears remained open at all times, desperately trying to hone all her concentration on her surroundings. No vampires in sight at the moment, only the whistling wind shaking the roundabout and swings the pair had just walked past. Yet Lauren didn’t let her focus falter, and she retained a tight grasp on her stake.

Until Julia decided to pipe up without warning.

“So… How long have you been… you know, called? As a Slayer?” came Julia with her heavy Australian accent. Instinctively, Lauren finally glanced across to the other Slayer, a nearby street light illuminating the scar that covered her right eye. Julia hadn’t spoken about it since she arrived, but it was evident she sustained it from slaying. It was never known as a riskless job — and Lauren knew it all too well from the countless bruises and cuts, and having to wash blood from her clothes almost every night. She was fortunate not to have any long-lasting injuries.

Before Lauren could even hold her tongue, she curtly bit back at Julia, “Do you mind? I’m trying to concentrate. And if we get ambushed by a vampire because we’re gossiping, that’ll be on you.” It was absolutely true to an extent — Lauren always found she performed better when alone, with minimal distractions such as a blonde Australian Slayer making poor attempts at starting smalltalk. Lauren was never much of a conversationalist, but it didn’t excuse snapping at Julia like that. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to people starting smalltalk with me mid-patrol, I guess,” she uttered nonchalantly, continuing on their loop around the circumference of the play park. “Anyway, I was fifteen. When I, you know, got called, I mean.”

Saying it out loud made the realisation hit hard at just how young she was.

xxxx━━━

author’s note, this is another rp reply that could kinda classify as a drabble!! lauren is my oc of course -- i guess i’ve written her a lot, huh. julia is my girlfriend’s oc, who’s this grumpy slayer who has just come to town. it’s safe to say lauren isn’t best pleased about the new arrival for a multitude of reasons, including losing her first best friend since she lost her last closest friend without warning. though lauren’s towards julia attitude isn’t the best to say the least, she does have her reasoning, and fair share of insecurities, regarding the whole “new slayer in town” ordeal. there is a lot, so i won’t get into it now, but i just love lauren so much!

[yves]

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ FIRST IMPRESSIONS
au, stranger things (2016—present) ━━ character, sydney trachtenberg
word count, 1,197 ━━ date written, 06/11/2020 ━━ content warnings, parental death

That midsummer’s day in June marked the end of the academic year; the start of another long relaxing summer to come. As it was every year, the students at Hawkins High were overjoyed and thankful for the end of school for another year. The former sophomore year in particular all flocked over to the “queen bee” Rochelle Winters’ suburban townhouse for the night in celebration.

Yet the teens babbling and roaring with laughter inside the building didn’t include Sydney, who quickly managed to make a break from the party through the kitchen and out the side. It wasn’t like Rochelle or any of her friends would notice she was missing, anyway. She just wanted to get out, because clearly there was only so much she could take. Seeing everyone around her laughing and bellowing in glee made Sydney realise how miserable she felt in comparison. Something that was bubbling up inside of her in order to keep her usual cordial demeanour had just come to the boil—it was just overwhelming.

Sat on the top step of the porch, Sydney ran her hands through her hair as she burrowed her head towards her chest. Nothing felt the same since her mom died—nothing. She felt like a shell that had been hollowed out from when she was once optimistic and carefree without a second thought. Numbness and emptiness had replaced Sydney’s usual naturally bubbly and happy attitude. Sure, the grief was still painfully raw, but in the last few weeks, she has been playing everybody’s rock so as to not appear a burden. Whether it was caring for Emily following her dad’s relapse into drinking again, or simply acting as though everything is peachy when it came to her school friends. It was simply exhausting, and her throbbing headache only further proved that point.

At least out on the porch, it was quiet—aside from the muffled music and chatter from inside—it gave Sydney room to finally breathe for once. Beneath the navy sky with minimal stars scattered above, Sydney had a few moments to feel somewhat at peace.

A rustle from the bushes startled Sydney briefly, which she initially thought was some kind of small animal like a cat or raccoon. But her head subconsciously flew back up, her tear-stained cheeks becoming obvious in the porch light, as the creature in the undergrowth came into the light. It wasn’t even an animal—but a girl about Sydney’s age, walking along the perimeter of the white picket fence, running a branch across the bushes. A tiny gasp in surprise escaped Sydney’s lips as she came to recognise: Jess Simmons, a girl from her grade, though given by the fact she was sneaking about outside the house, it was evident she hadn’t been invited to the party. Not that it was particularly surprising or anything, given her reputation among the school. Especially given that Sydney heard her friends consistently spit remarks directed towards Jess.

“Hey, you’re the girl whose mom croaked, right?” Jess called over as she began to effortlessly clamber over the fence and make her way towards Sydney, who simply glanced up in utter bemusement at such a question. “Don’t worry, I’m only joking—sort of, you are that girl, yeah?” Jess quickly added as she noted Sydney’s evidently shocked face. Clearly, she was never the best for first impressions. Though Sydney gave a slight nod in spite of Jess’ very unexpected question. “I was planning on crashing this party, you see,” Jess laughed, and her smirk afterwards indicated she was possibly joking, “but do you mind if I just—sit here with you instead?”

Again, Sydney didn’t speak—she merely shuffled aside to make room for the extra company. Part of her wanted to escape the party so she could be entirely alone, though something about Jess asking to sit with her resonated in ways she did not expect.

“So how are you holding up?” Jess asked, though it was clear she realised her answer halfway through by Sydney’s disposition alone. “That was a freaking stupid question, I know. Of course you’re not.” But the idea of someone asking her how she was doing made her, in a way, a little bit happier. Somehow in a minute of interaction, Jess had shown more compassion for Sydney than her friends had done in the two years she had known them. And there was something extremely consoling about Jess’ presence—perhaps it was the perfect balance between space and comfort, or that Jess had been in Sydney’s shoes.

“I don’t wanna tell you it gets better anytime soon—and I know that’s probably not what you want to hear, but hey, the pain will… hurt less, you know? Back when my dad…” Jess paused for a second, “well, died, I was only a little kid. And it sucks; it freaking sucks. That he’s there one day, and the next he’s just… not. The next day he’s gone and it’s no freaking fair because it’s no one’s fault but the hospital’s and they’re constantly denying any responsibility whatsoever—” Jess looked around to see Sydney glancing at her, wide-eyed. “Yeah, I probably should have, uh, warned you before I launched into all of that.”

“I—It’s fine,” Sydney managed to force out as her voice cracked a little. She didn’t move an inch; she was just frozen in her spot. “I’ve just never had someone that cares enough to ask me how I’m doing, I guess—least of all you.”

“Well, I guess I’m not always the big bad lesbo—” Sydney noticed Jess wince a little as she said such a word, “—your friends at Hawkins make me out to be—no, no, no, don’t be sorry,” she hastily added as Sydney was about to mouth her apologies. “They don’t bother me, not really. It’s just water off a duck’s back.” Sydney didn’t need to know how it genuinely made her feel; Jess just didn’t want the only girl willing to talk to her to feel bad over something negligible.

A pause ensued for a few moments, with nothing but the sound of late-night crickets chirping to fill the background silence.

“How do you feel about calling your little party a night and finding someplace else?” Jess was the first to break through the silence. “I have this place where I’ll go whenever I feel really freaking angry—I treat it as a sort of release. It could help you a little—only if you want to talk about it, that is.”

Sydney looked across to her left and noticed Jess already pulling herself to a stand. It was either sit and remain miserable outside the party, or go off with Jess for the night—then at least she’d be miserable with someone else. Her tense shoulders relaxed a little. “Sure, I think… I think I’d like that,” she replied as she got up to join Jess, who was already beginning to walk off in encouragement.

For some reason, Sydney felt so much more comfortable by a girl she had only spoken to for about ten minutes, than her crowd of popular friends in high school. There was something about this Jess, something that intrigued Sydney, but she couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

xxxx━━━

author’s note, okay i’ve been procrastinating posting this one to cs for god knows how long now... this definitely is not my best drabble by a long shot, but this is the drabble i wrote for my girlfriend’s birthday!! she really likes it so i think that’s all that matters. <3

[yves]

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ THINK OF CHRISTMAS
au, orange is the new black (2013—2019) ━━ character, winnie cartwright
word count, 693 ━━ date written, 06/12/2020 ━━ content warnings, implications of neglect

“‘Tis the season.” What does that even mean?

Winnie never saw the magic of Christmas. Not that it was surprising; year after year in her childhood she would be left to her own devices as her mom was left comatosed on the couch. Settling for reheated chicken breast from the night before and tinned vegetables past their best-before didn’t exactly get the Christmas spirit going. They could just about afford a few fairy lights to drape around the motel room, but there was never a fancy Christmas tree adorned head to toe with festive decorations. Christmas felt lonely and bare, but young Winnie never thought anything of it back then—it simply felt like any old day in the year, which it was; it was just another day where Winnie wouldn’t be able to spend time with her mom. Not even on Christmas Day.

The Cartwrights, Winnie’s foster family, celebrated Christmas just like an ordinary family. It was fun while it lasted, but like everything else: nothing good lasts for long at all. The feeling of finally belonging to a family with parents who seemed to genuinely care about her was merely a temporary band-aid that was torn off way too soon, before she was even ready, when she was just getting settled into the new family.

As anyone can expect, Christmas in prison isn’t exactly a jolly celebration. Moods are significantly dampened among inmates in general, so Christmas simply felt like a regular day again. No festivities, no decorations — of course not, it was prison—it was just like Winnie was living in a cramped New York motel room again. For Winnie, Christmas became something that would only bring miserable memories—whether it be her neglectful mother, or her early twenties spent in Litchfield Penitentiary. It was merely another day; another bland day of 365.

But this was her first Christmas since her release from Litchfield. This year felt remarkably different. She had reconnected with her foster family, who gave Winnie a heartfelt reminder that she will always be a part of their family for as long as they (and she) are alive. More significantly, Winnie had her wife by her side. The most important woman in her life; the only woman whom Winnie could trust with her whole life.

There was something rejuvenating about Ronnie; despite how much life had it out for her from the very start, it didn’t stop her from revelling in the Christmas magic. She genuinely loved the festive holiday, from the decorations to the food—oh, to the snow most of all. It was something Winnie could not do no matter how hard she tried—she simply was not a Christmas person in the slightest. Yet Ronnie’s optimistic and cheerful spirit was infectious: it carried through their apartment as she danced through the living room to the sound of Christmas songs on the radio. Winnie watched as her wife finished decorating the tree in the corner, with an amused smile curving her lips.

For the first time in years, Christmas felt fresh and new. Winnie might not have a liking for the holiday, but merely seeing her wife this happy and jolly was more than enough.

“Does… Does it look okay?” Ronnie questioned, stepping back to admire the tree, and then turning around to join Winnie on the couch. A tuneful series of jingles followed her as she sat down: two of Ronnie’s cats, Ruru and Cotton, were on their owner’s tail wearing their new collars adorned with tiny little bells. Cole was probably off elsewhere in the apartment being a grump about the new Christmas accessory around his neck.

“I think it’s perfect, babe.” Winnie placed a kiss on her wife’s forehead. As Ronnie sat down beside her, Winnie placed her arm around her shoulder. Ronnie instinctively shuffled even closer, her soft hoodie brushing against Winnie. “I love you so much,” she added with a grin playing on her features. Just by being her cheerful self, Ronnie genuinely made Winnie think of Christmas. After all, she was one of the few people who mattered to Winnie at this point.

xxxx━━━

author’s note, this is a songfic and my first christmas drabble!! it’s honestly sorta sloppy, and i could have added a lot more description towards the end, but eh. i wrote something at least. plus it gives some exposition into my oc winnie and her attitude to christmas, then vs now. she’s a little bit of a grinch just because she’s never seen christmas as a “special” holiday growing up, but ronnie (my girlfriend’s oc) genuinely makes her happy.

[yves]

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ISOLATED
au, buffy the vampire slayer (1997—2003) ━━ character, lauren gardner
word count, 1,235 ━━ date written, 09/01/2021 ━━ content warnings, none

Lauren sat alone in the cafe that night. Normally, she’d have her friends surrounding her as they gossiped and laughed about the most recent demon to come to Alexandria. But that Thursday night, Lauren sat alone, with nothing but a white coffee steadily growing colder by the minute in front of her. People walked by the window, laughing and smiling as they were probably heading for a night-out somewhere in town.

For a second, Lauren’s mind wandered to longing to be out with her friends; maybe if she hadn’t messed up. Twice. If she didn’t let her dislike and jealousy for Julia get the better of her, she could be with all of them: Emmie, Ethan and Julia. If she didn’t impulsively kiss Ginny at that stupid Christmas party, then maybe Lauren would have at least someone.

Without any of them, Lauren had never felt more isolated. This time, she had no one left to turn to — not even the popular girl at Alexandria High — and it was all her fault. She started to think she deserved it.

At least, that was until the bell abruptly rang throughout the desolate cafe, signalling someone’s entrance, that snapped Lauren out of her little daydream. Seconds later, Angela came into light beside the booth Lauren was sitting at. It was at that moment Lauren realised why her Watcher was making an impromptu visit to the coffee shop, and it wasn’t to buy a late-night coffee and wallow in self-pity like the young Slayer. Lauren was meant to be out patrolling.

“Angela, I—” Lauren choked out, “I’m sorry — I really should’ve told you earlier. That — that I wasn’t up for patrolling tonight I mean.” Usually, she’d instinctively get up and leave the building — her flight response — but she felt too exhausted. By her side, Lauren’s fingertips pressed firmly on their corresponding palms. Her hands felt sweaty as she felt increasingly anxious, as she began thinking she should have just sucked up her mental state and went on to patrol that night. Since that was her duty, right? Her job. But she wasn’t in the right frame of mind to be protecting the city from vampires and demons at all. What use was a Slayer impaired by her own anxiety and self-loathing?

“I agree, you should have,” came Angela’s voice as she pulled into the same booth as Lauren, sitting directly opposite the Slayer. Her heart fell when the words came out of her Watcher’s mouth. “But — I can’t say I’m surprised.” Lauren’s stomach dropped this time. “Lauren, don’t think I haven’t noticed. You’ve been distancing yourself the moment you practically begged for me not to get involved since you fell out with the others. You’ve been far more distanced and distracted than usual whenever I’m able to see you — even then, that’s only during training recently. I can tell something’s up, but you can’t stop shutting everyone out like this.”

Cursing under her breath, Lauren drew a shaky breath as she glanced around the coffee shop, at the dim lighting and over to the counter where she could hear a light chatter of the baristas coming from the kitchen. Of course. Angela was the school therapist — her therapist — she could see right through her. Returning to the conversation at hand, Lauren gazed down at the coffee swirling around in the mug. Surely it was cold by now. Not that it mattered anyway, she instantly lost her thirst when the barista came round with her order. And then, rather reluctantly and with a deep breath, she finally spoke. “I screwed up. I screwed up and now I’ve lost everyone close to me. And it’s my fault,” she said bluntly. Without thinking, she felt her thumb nail digging into the side of her forefinger in frustration. “And I have no idea what to do.”

Angela didn’t show any signs of urging Lauren to delve further into why she messed up so badly. Instead, she offered to open Lauren’s eyes further. “Right. I’m not familiar with what went on with you and Emmie, but what I do know is that beating yourself up isn’t going to help your cause. If you strongly believe it’s your fault, have you even tried to fix things?”

Having her Watcher forcing her to open up wasn’t something Lauren necessarily tolerated per se, she simply didn’t have the energy to hold back. “I don’t — I don’t know,” she nibbled at the inside of her lip. It wasn’t completely true: Lauren knew exactly why, but she just didn’t want to confront it. She had been endlessly avoiding it for months; plus, she was terrified of the potential rejection if she did apologise. At the same time, she consistently felt like a third-wheel whenever Julia was involved, and that Emmie would always choose Julia over her. It was a never-ending battle inside her mind. Lauren desperately wanted to make amends, but she didn’t know how to even start. She dug herself a grave and she couldn’t get out of it. “I guess I don’t know what to say. What would I even say, anyway? ‘I’m sorry I started talking crap about Julia, she just always makes me feel so angry and like I can never say or do anything that’s good enough’?” Sarcasm appeared ripe as she choked out her rant.

“Maybe not quite in so many words but — yes. I know it’s a terrifying feat, but recognising you did wrong is a good start. Is that something you can try soon, maybe? You can build up the courage first, of course.” Angela paused momentarily, and in the moment’s silence Lauren realised how much she missed hearing her Watcher’s genuine advice. It gave her a physical reminder that Angelia had Lauren’s best interests in mind. “Was thegre anything else?”

Lauren opened her mouth to speak, but hastily decided to withhold herself. She didn’t even want to get started on Ginny, not until she really figured out what on Earth was going on in that department. That was a different territory entirely, and Lauren preferred to bury it until she had made amends with Emmie, Ethan and, hopefully, Julia. One battle at a time. “Nope. Thanks, though — so, so much,” Lauren uttered, glancing up to make eye contact with Angela for the first time that whole night. “As for the advice, I’ll try. I’ll definitely try… it’s just a matter of finding the right time.”

“It’s fine, I understand. And it’s no problem — it’s always been my job to look out for you.” A familiar smile flashed upon Angela’s face: warm and friendly, and filled with wise words. It turned out speaking with her Watcher, though it didn’t completely kill all her worries, helped get some stuff out in the open that she had been keeping locked up internally for a long time. A beat, and Angela continued. “And Lauren?”

“Hm?” Looking back up to meet Angela’s eyes once again, Lauren watched as Angela reached a hand out over the table to meet Lauren’s, giving it a light squeeze in reassurance.

“Try not to beat yourself up so much, I just wish that you can come to see you’re not as bad as you’re making yourself out to be. You made a mistake and it got out of control. That doesn’t make you a bad person.”

xxxx━━━

author’s note, aaand what’s my next lauren drabble? anxiety. always anxiety. (chronology: the wish > first kiss > isolated > cemetery conversations)

[yves]

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ DETERMINATION
au, men in black-inspired ━━ character, lexi wang
word count, 747 ━━ date written, 17/01/2021 ━━ content warnings, none

Two weeks and six days isn’t an awfully long time to an ordinary person living life as it goes. But for Lexi, minutes became hours and hours became days. She hadn’t heard a single word from her partner, Agent A, since the end of their last mission together. In fact, no one at OPERA heard of Ayla since. It wasn’t like the superiors cared, anyways — at least, they didn’t appear to in Lexi’s eyes. Of course they would turn a blind eye at a long-term rookie agent going missing. As far as they were concerned, Ayla was merely collateral damage.

She was only a rookie. She didn’t matter. That’s what the superiors probably thought.

That was what infuriated Lexi. From where she was standing, it was as though only she was determined to find her missing partner. OPERA called off the search after a few days and that was that. Lexi had the help of Ashley, but other than that, she was entirely alone. And after countless yet fruitless attempts to locate Ayla, the helplessness steadily began to creep up on Lexi. She even had to resort to Natlea of all people, just to attempt to prise any potential clues from her.

Perhaps Lexi felt a certain degree of guilt, due to being Ayla’s partner, but pacing around her own apartment with nothing to do from the headquarters didn’t help Lexi’s extensive worrying. She just wanted to know.

The echoing of Lexi’s footsteps came to an abrupt halt as she stopped beside a large bulletin board hanging on the wall, dropping her arms to either side of her body. Maps and notes on scrapped paper littered the board, pinned up by little drawing pins. Although it was filled with any potential lead Lexi could reach for and get her hands on, it just proved useless at that point. She was no closer to finding Ayla compared to when she started. She could be anywhere; she could be lying motionless on the ground somewhere. It was absolutely a worst-case scenario, but the horrifying thought seeped into Lexi’s brain every now and then.

For a moment, the door to her apartment startled Lexi, until she finally saw Ashley coming into the light of the room. Apparently all of this worrying and uncertainty brought out a certain jumpiness in Lexi — huh, who would have known.

“Oh, Lex — you know you really should be getting some rest, right?” came Ashley’s voice in an evidently concerned tone. Ashley was Lexi’s oldest friend at OPERA, and she was someone who definitely never gave up caring about her.

“I can’t sleep,” Lexi murmured plainly. While she couldn’t sleep, her tired eyes definitely indicated a dire need for it. Whenever she attempted to sleep, it would only be a few hours at night, and she was completely exhausted. The desperation creeped into her voice, “I have to find her, who else is looking for her? The HQ are doing the bare minimum. I need to know where she is.”

“The HQ are doing everything they can—”

“The HQ suspended the search parties after a few days. They don’t care.” Silence. The two agents stood awkwardly in Lexi’s apartment, watching one another and exchanging glances. “I just need to know where she is. And I wish there was more I could do.”

“You are doing the best you can,” Ashley replied earnestly, giving a subtle nod towards the busy pin board on the wall. “You really care about Agent A, huh?” The question genuinely took Lexi by surprise. While she knew for the longest time that she really liked Ayla, but maybe she hadn’t realised the full extent of it until Ashley pointed it out. Lexi never realised how much she genuinely cared for, even loved, Ayla until that day.

“Yeah,” Lexi whispered with a nod. Ashley returned an empathetic smile, gesturing for Lexi to come in for a hug (she didn’t want to potentially cause Lexi any panic with sudden touch). Lexi drew nearer, and Ashley instinctively pulled her friendly closer — and gently — into a hug. Momentarily, Lexi’s worries started to melt away. It was only for a short time, but it was a breath of fresh air nonetheless. “I need to know she’s safe, Ash. Whatever it takes.”

“I know, I know,” Ashley comforted Lexi. “But we’re going to find her. And she’s going to be safe.”

xxxx━━━

author’s note, lexi discovering the extent that she loves ayla... this whole drabble just makes me wanna be held.

[yves]

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ACCEPTING
au, 1940-50s england ━━ character, catherine mcalpine
word count, 591 ━━ date written, 18/01/2021 ━━ content warnings, implied homophobia

Despite her father disappearing for several days following her mother’s confession (yet the full story was unknown to her), Diana appeared surprisingly upbeat. Whether an eight year old was too young to be affected by their father’s sudden absence, or it was merely an attempt to conceal any crestfallen feelings from her mother.

Catherine was noticeably downbeat since Alfie had left; whatever happened between the two of them, Diana was completely unaware. Though within his absence, Diana was able to see even more of her mother’s aristocratic friend, Nancy Rivera. Granted, she was only there to help her mother around the house, but recently, Nancy seemed to be the only person to bring a smile to Catherine’s face.

Diana might be just a young child, but anyone could notice when someone liked someone else, especially when that someone made Catherine evidently happy.

“All right, I think it’s time someone got to bed,” Catherine announced as the clock reached seven o’clock.

Diana initially pouted in mock resistance, implying to ask if she could stay up a little longer, but she grinned playfully and turned on her tail. “Okay… Race you!” She started to exit the living room before she hastily turned around. “Oh, and — goodnight, Miss Nancy!” Diana continued on her way again.

“Okay, okay — if you insist,” teased Catherine with a small smile. After Diana got her head-start up the stairs, Catherine and Nancy briefly exchanged smiles — before Catherine shortly followed her daughter.

Catherine rounded the corner at the top of the stairs to Diana’s bedroom, with her eyes meeting her daughter starting to clamber into her bed.

“I beat you, Mummy!” Diana giggled. Admitting defeat to play along with her daughter, Catherine simply nodded as she tugged the curtains shut and, finally, sat down at the side of Diana’s bed. “Mummy, can I ask you something?”

“Hmm?” A curious expression lightened Catherine’s features.

“Is Miss Nancy your girlfriend?”

Instantly, Catherine’s face fell in the sheer surprise of the question her daughter asked. While Diana was well aware about her parents’ likely divorce, Catherine hadn’t anticipated or even considered her own daughter catching on about her and Nancy. It was definitely true that Catherine liked the younger blonde woman — a lot, for that matter. And her chest felt heavy. Diana was only a child, sure, but what would she think about the whole situation? Could she hold the same opinion as Alfie when Catherine confessed she had feelings for another woman?

“Are you okay, Mummy?”

Catherine glanced up, and cleared her throat. Without a second thought, she spoke up, “So — Something like that — I mean, it’s complicated, pumpkin. Daddy and I have to sort out a few things first.”

Diana paused in thought for several moments, but she quickly looked up with a sweet smile. Earnest, and genuine. “Well, I really like Miss Nancy. And I want you to be happy, because I think you really like her, too.”

Utter relief. Rendered almost entirely speechless, Catherine pulled her daughter into a hug. “Yeah, I — I really like her, too.” Catherine placed a kiss on her daughter’s head. “Goodnight.”

With that, the mother and daughter separated from their hug: Diana turned over on her side in bed, while Catherine left the room, flicking the light switch and softly pulling the door to. Nothing could describe the pure relief she felt at that moment. And although nothing could progress between her and Nancy, at least the chances of Catherine losing her daughter were significantly reduced now.

xxxx━━━

author’s note, i want to be held... x2.

[yves]

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ LOATHING
au, 1940-50s england ━━ character, rose hastings
word count, 1,376 ━━ date written, 02/05/2021 ━━ content warnings, none

Outdoors was where Rose belonged. With the crisp sea-salt ocean breeze and running wherever the wind took her, Rose felt at home. To Rose’s luck, the boarding school was situated within walking distance of the beach—without it, she may have never discovered such an adventurous, and simultaneously serene, location. The thrill of teetering near the cliff edge, precariously hopping across the rock pools barefooted, and venturing deep inside the caves that carved the click faces. So much to do and see.
              The cove was a place for Rose to be free, something she longed to feel back at her home in London. Despite not being one to respect authority, the Hastings family was like a prison, except only for their only daughter. Ever since she was a mere child, everything Rose’s brothers did, Rose was scolded for. Even trying on her brothers’ clothing was considered scandalous for the “young lady such as herself”. A young lady. It opposed the very lifestyle Rose longed for; the one where she could be herself, and feel comfortable in herself. No more unrealistic expectations from the unwavering eye of the public about how a “lady” should behave. No more frilly dresses; no more tight corsets.
              With Florence and Nancy, it was different. The two girls were Rose’s only friends at the school, but their presence made her feel at home. Especially dear Florence and her undying loyalty—and her words of utmost wisdom, although quiet and short-lived.
              Meanwhile, Nancy and Rose consistently clashed. Nancy held herself with poise and dignity, a stereotypical attitude for a woman of the 1940s. In comparison to Rose’s flamboyant and boyish demeanour, it was no wonder the two met with sharp tongues and bickering so frequently. Something about Nancy was insufferable, yet Rose could not help but feel comfort in her presence—and Florence’s. Both Florence and Nancy were the only two among the hundreds of students that understood her. All three girls shared a mutual secret, which was perhaps more scandalous than Rose’s desire to frolic around like teen boys her age.

To no surprise, it was Rose’s idea to venture down to the cove that summer’s day. Sneaking across the school’s acres of land and to the beach in secret gave Rose a thrill of excitement—something she wanted to share with her favourite girls. Though the ringleader’s thirst for adventure didn’t exactly go to plan. As the three girls teased the waves crashing up on the shore, Nancy unexpectedly lost her footing, causing the blonde to collide with the pebbled beach and ultimately soaking the dress she decided to wear.
              It was safe to say the atmosphere on the way back up to the school was tense. The three girls remained in deadly silence as they followed the off-road track. Rose and Nancy occasionally exchanged piercing glares at one another. Florence was stuck in the middle between the two frenemies, arms linked with Rose as Nancy silently complained about what her mother would have to say for ruining such an expensive dress. Well, it’s her own fault she wore a dress to the beach, Rose stubbornly thought.

Back in their dormitory at the school, Nancy’s shrill voice echoed through the chambers. “Look at my dress!” she shrieked indignantly. “Rosie, just look at what you did! This was my best dress, and now it’s positively ruined!” She spun around in the full-length mirror, hands on her hips as she examined the damage of the dress that was still dripping with water. “Oh, good Heavens, Mother is going to kill me,” she murmured curtly under her breath.
              Without a single moment of hesitation, Rose turned on tail abruptly and came face-to-face with Nancy. “I didn’t ruin anything,” Rose replied with an unwavering glare. A smug grin played on her features. “After all, it was you who chose to wear that hideous frock down there! I didn’t force you in that dress—and neither did Florence.”
              At the mention of her name, Florence quietly whispered something about checking on Ruth in the third-year’s dormitories. But her announcement fell on deaf ears as Rose’s anger continued to rile up.
              “All I have are dresses! What did you expect, for me to go to the beach in my undergarments and corset?” Nancy whipped around from the mirror to face Rose at the opposite corner of their dormitory.
              Nancy droned on and on about how the dress was a one-of-a-kind fitting and cost thousands of pounds. With every word, Rose felt annoyance prickle down her spine. Every word that left Nancy’s mouth was steeped in her usual uptight, snobbish tone. Her excessive desire to be perfect and ladylike. Oh, the two couldn’t be any more different from each other.
              “Yeah, all you have are dresses! Do you know why that is, Nancy?” Rose finally conjured up her reply, raising her voice in irritation as she called across the room.
              Nancy crossed her arms over her chest, though Rose caught her eyes widening in shock at the redhead’s sudden comment. Exasperated, the blonde heaved a breath. “Humour me, Rosie.”
              Rose wasted no time before speaking up again; she had her response perfectly curated in her head. “Because you’re a stuck-up, spoiled prick.” The bemused gasp on the blonde’s features brought a mischievous yet satisfied smirk to Rose’s lips.
              “Better to be stuck-up than such a foul-mouthed, blistering fool,” Nancy spat back.
              It was clear Rose had taken offence by Nancy’s sudden comment, but she refused to accept defeat. She grunted defiantly, before her voice evolved into a yell, “Oh, just shut up, you posh London bastard!” Hairs prickled on the back of Rose’s neck. Nancy raised an eyebrow, a puzzled expression playing on her features. In the pause, Rose struck up the opportunity to continue her taunts, “Oh, did I hit a nerve?”
              However, she fell victim to her arrogance. The following words that tumbled out of Nancy’s mouth came slowly. “Oooooh,” she taunted, in the same snarky tone that she often answered back to the teachers. Rose’s eyes widened at the final addition, “you want to kiss me sooo bad.” Nancy merely stood there, torso twisting side-to-side with her arms firmly crossed.
              In the heat of the moment, as soon as Rose processed the blonde’s mocking words, something possessed Rose to lurch forward towards Nancy. Something she couldn’t quite pinpoint—or hold back, apparently. It was anger, perhaps, although that didn’t sound completely right. She had the urge to do just as Nancy taunted, whether to call her bluff or because some supernatural force was taking control of her. Pulse racing, a strange exhilaration filled the air.
             As fervid as a flame, Rose’s hands impulsively cusped Nancy’s delicate, pale face and two pairs of lips came crashing into a kiss. For the first time in forever, blonde and red met with passion instead of the usual sharp tongues of anger. Despite Rose’s indignation, everything about Nancy’s lips made Rose sink deeper into the kiss. Her soft cheeks against Rose’s coarse palms felt flushed as if they had become an extraordinarily bright red. Up close, everything about the posh aristocrat made Rose desire her more. This wasn’t the turn of events she was expecting.

“Oh my, I can’t say I expected this.” At the sound of Florence returning in the doorway, Rose instantly broke out of the kiss and backed away several steps. She caught sight of Nancy stumbling backwards; obviously Rose wasn’t the only one taken aback by the recent events. “I thought you’d have been tearing one another’s throats out, not trying to kiss down them,” remarked Florence coolly.
              Rose let out a loud cackle in an attempt to remain calm. “I was just calling her stupid bluff,” she scoffed. “You’re still a posh London bastard, Nancy.”
              It was nothing but a downright lie. Rose’s mind processed the events that unfolded mere moments prior. She only lunged forward with intense anger, and now she was yearning to kiss her again. Her stupid face; her golden locks that hung in perfect ringlets that framed her stupid face; her soft skin beneath Rose’s rough hands; her lush lips . . . oh, the way Rose’s lips locked with Nancy’s. The terrifying realisation crashed over her like a wave lapping against the beach.
              Oh God, no. Not Nancy.

xxxx━━━

author’s note, this one-shot runs parallel to my girlfriend’s, so check theirs out too! it was a completely impulsive decision of mine but i got the urge last night to write this very kiss in rose’s perspective and aaaaa—i love this cocky bastard so much.