An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
There's a name, for that Bug Ocean has, and both she and her fellow victim have said it about an incalculable amount of times before—before, that is, she admitted out loud she was sick.
That Name was so, so easy to say, since Pre-K; it rolled off the tongue at all opportunities in all situations on all days because it was second-nature and not in the least weird to name to someone who is your best friend.
But now Ocean's best friend is her girlfriend.
Or: Ocean struggles to say The L Word.
Blackrose Week 2025 Day 8: Free Day
Happy end of Blackrose Week!!! It's the most fun I've had writing in so long. I keep saying it, but it's true. Your support has meant the world, and I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have!
Thank you endlessly again, and please take care!!💖
(Please excuse the brevity. I'm posting this on airport WiFi.)
Participate/prompts here (never too late!) >> @perfectclouds-week-blackrose
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Tonight, Ocean’s in pieces.
If it weren’t clear from the smears of grime, blossoming bruises, oozing cuts from who-the-hell-knows-what, it may as well be spattered all over her face. Her eyes are rimmed red, hair endlessly frizzy and knotted when she never has a lock of it out of place if she can help it, but truthfully, without all of that, it’s the look she’s wearing.
She’s small, she’s worn, she’s wrecked.
Or: Ocean can no longer keep hiding home from Constance.
Blackrose Week Day 5: Hurt/Comfort
Mind the tags on this one!!
This is the last of my prewritten stuff, so please forgive the time it takes for me to get the next prompts done, but they will be!
Happy Blackrose Week! It's been a pleasure and a privilege. Hope you enjoy this one, take care and see you eventually for the last ones!
It’s her.
There can be no one else. Ocean’s chest heaves, wide-eyed, breathless, searching, all of it reflected back in the face she prayed to whatever would listen to see, just one more time. It can’t be real.
Please, let it be.
“Connie?” she whispers.
Or: The sole survivor of the Cyclone roller coaster accident, Ocean is given the chance to do things right when her BFF finds herself stuck between planes of existence.
Blackrose Week Day 4: Alternate Universe
I hope you enjoy this one!! Thank you to my friends who ALL yelled at me to write it. Take care and see you tomorrow!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Last week, Ocean requested fifteen minutes alone with Constance after rehearsal. The two of them fell into deep conversation, then, raced to clutch each other’s hands, all blushy bashfulness and big smiles, and no.
No, it was not at all relevant to Noel’s quality of life in any way whatsoever, and therefore, of course, there were no feelings on the matter.
He and the entirety of the St. Cassian Chamber Choir are just here on the afternoon of their first date to witness Ocean fuck it all up. That’s all.
Or: Noel and the Choir spy on Ocean's and Constance's first date.
Blackrose Week Day 3: Third Wheel/Double Date
I hope you all enjoy this silly mess! Take care and see you tomorrow!!
With Connie’s hand perpetually in hers, this might just be okay. Systematic desensitization; exposure therapy; facing your fears; all that stuff the Internet said might help with the nightmares and the memories and those bricks that still have a home in her digestive tract, as of late.
What better way to spend a date with your BFF-turned-GF?
Or: One year since the Cyclone, Ocean and Constance try tackling the Fall Fair again.
Blackrose Week Day 2: Healing Together
blackrose apology fluffiness with hurt feelings for day 1 of blackrose week! @perfectclouds-week-blackrose
a/n: song fic?? in 2025?? you bet! get ready for cringe and sadness. (there’ll be more of that for the hurt/comfort day too don’t u worry ;3 ) also happy birthday to my best friend in the whole wide world my day one my og. hope you enjoy this one and all the others i write for this week!!
in the rearview mirror, i saw the setting sun on your neck
Ocean had gotten her license a few years back. She liked driving, it made her feel… grown-up. And more than that, she liked driving Constance around. Connie hated driving, it scared her so badly she would freeze up just trying to back out of the driveway. So, while her parents worked with her on that, she often caught rides with Ocean.
and felt the taste of you bubble up inside me
She didn’t tell her how much she appreciated Ocean picking her up, but she hoped it was implied with all of the goodies she brought her (baked goods, sweet scented air fresheners, expensive mechanical pencils Ocean would never buy for herself, et cetera). Little did she know, Ocean liked spending time with her just as much as Connie did.
but with everybody watching us, our every move, we do have reputations.
As Ocean’s campaign for student council president (and her secret dreams to hold real life political office) got more fierce, though, a lot changed. She spent less time with Connie, namely. It wasn’t as if she was spending less time with all of her friends, just Constance. It hurt. Had she done something wrong? Was she too busy for Connie, specifically?
Or was it that she had finally gotten tired of her?
Constance was completely unaware that it had nothing to do with her. In fact, it was digging into Ocean’s conscience at all times, like a rock stuck in her shoe.
we keep it secret, won’t let them have it.
What would people think? It’s bad enough they’re so close, but if it came out that she had feelings for her… for another girl…
What would that do to her campaign? her reputation? her life?
It had to stay under wraps.
On her way to math one day, after not talking to Constance for almost two weeks, she approached her wordlessly. She handed her a note on a cupcake shaped sticky note.
“My house. Today. 5pm.”
After school her heart was doing somersaults. What could this be about? Did she want to break it off forever? She knew she had done something— so many things— wrong, but couldn’t Constance forgive her?
She texted her parents to let them know she would be home late. Her feet took her the way through the tall grass that she had walked down a thousand times since 6th grade and skipped down a hundred thousand times before that. Her body remembered the depth of the stairs, and how the third one had the divot in the side that would trip her up if she was wearing her uniform shoes. She knew this house like the back of her hand.
She wish she could still say the same about the girl who lives in it.
The door was unlocked, Ocean realized, as she almost let herself in. Muscle memory. She decided against it, and knocked. Constance came to the door almost immediately.
“Come in.”
so come inside and be with me, alone with me, alone with me, alone.
She wasted no time bringing Ocean up to her room, with the purple walls and the plush white bedsheets. Ocean sat carefully on the edge of her bed, like she was afraid it would break open and swallow her whole. She kind of wished it would.
“Ocean. I miss you. And I want to-” Constance said solemnly, a tinge of anger in her voice.”
“Connie I m-“ Ocean sputtered out.
“No. I am not finished talking. Do not interrupt me”, Constance insisted. Ocean gulped and pressed her lips together.
“I miss you. And I hate that I miss you, because you’ve been such a… you’ve been such a jerk, Ocean. What happened? We used to be so, so good together. Now you dodge me in the hallways, and ignore my texts, and you only come to choir when I say I won’t be there. What gives, Oc? I like you, a lot- I *love* you, but… I can’t love you from a distance like this anymore.”
Silence.
“Connie.” Ocean’s voice cracks. She’s crying. Constance hasn’t seen her cry since 6th grade. She puts her hands on the sleeves of Constance’s sweater and grips onto them. “Connie. I love you too. And not just as a friend. I… I *really* like you. And I don’t know what to do because if that gets out, what will people think??” She’s talking a mile a minute. “St. Cassian’s has never even had a GSA, let alone a gay student council president!! It would completely ruin my chances of winning, and probably ruin my chances of getting into college, and-“
“Ocean!!” Constance laughs. She’s crying too. “You’re getting so carried away.” She smiles, salty tears lingering on her lips. “It’s just like you. To get like that. I missed it. I missed… I missed you.”
“Connie.. I missed you too. So much. I’m so sorry. It’s so hard trying to avoid you when all I want to do is see you.”
“Then stop avoiding me. I promise you that whatever happens, you can figure it out. *We* can figure it out. You can’t run as someone you’re not.”
“…you pinkie promise?” Ocean says in her smallest voice.
“I pinkie promise,” Constance whispers back, interlocking their fingers.
if you would let me give you pinkie promise kisses,
Constance leans in halfway to Ocean, and Ocean closes the gap. Their lips meet and Connie wraps her arms around the smaller girl.
then I wouldn’t have to scream your name atop of every roof in the city of my heart.
A week later, most is back to normal. There are still hurt feelings, but they are working together to heal them. And Ocean is on her way to Connie’s house to take her for a drive.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Change, in the Warehouse, is a sort of creeping normality; shifting baseline; slippery slope, boiling frog, camel’s nose, obsta principiis. A thing as slow and inconspicuous as taking a hairdryer to the polar ice caps; yet as hard-hitting and world-changing as a telephone pole to the face on a random Tuesday.
Or: At several points in endless purgatory, Ocean falls in love with her best friend.
Blackrose Week Day 1: Apologies/Reconnecting (5.1k words)
Happy Blackrose Week 2025!!! Woohoo!
I hope you enjoy this one, and I can't wait to see what you all create this week!💖 Take care!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
After much deliberation, Ocean and Constance decide to expand the family.
Blackrose Week Day 7: Free Day (2k words)
Happy end of Blackrose Week!! This has just been the most wonderful thing, and I'm so grateful to have been a part of it. I hope you enjoy this fluffy, fuzzy disaster to commemorate.
Have amazing days! Please please take care and much love, Blackrose enjoyers! You rock!!!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Hello Hello! Day 7 of Blackroseweek2024
the prompt was free day! And i went with something i can say i'm pretty proud of and hope readers will share in the sweet little thing i have cooked up.
Thank you so much @savannahwiththegreenest-eyes for hosting! i had fun breaking out my skills as a fanfic writer and creating works for one of my favorite ships of all time. I absolutely appreciate the opportunity!