fern's fresh start

fern, 20s, "writing" blog <3

[softsfern]

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ i love doing whatever the hell i want ₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

.*ೃ༄ fern, they/them ୭ ˚○◦˚.

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[softsfern]

gettin my engagement nails off tmrw so i can go back to writing fanfiction

[p00pdev1l]

[p00pdev1l]

[softsfern]

does a little dance in here

go jazzy! go jazzy!

[kosmogrl]

who else loves spinning out about things that haven’t happened

[takiishis]

I'm just envisioning Endo lying on his bed, kicking his feet like a schoolgirl as he sends Sakura his latest wall of text that won't get a reply.

hgsdhshss Sakura doesn't have the technological savvy to turn off read receipts so Endo literally knows he's opening the messages & not answering them

[softsfern]

new haircut ✌️

[erwinsvow]

night shift reader who is always snacking on candy in between patients (partially to stay awake, partially because of a massive sweet tooth). jack abbot watches you tear into sour straws and gummy bears at three am, telling you about how watching you eat that shit makes my teeth hurt. you hit him back with the "that's what happens in old age" and keep tearing up gummy worms. someone lets it slip that both robby and jack have a penchant for werther's originals and lo and behold it becomes your new hyperfixation candy, a packet at the desk you always write your notes at and a few in your pockets at all times to offer to your attending, and it's only sort-of pavlovian. one day at six forty-five jack sees you smiling up at robby while filling him in on a patient, offering him a werther's while he listens (which he accepts, even though he won't eat it until later). on his way out jack stops to talk to robby, who tells him about your candy addiction and offering. jack kind of coughs awkwardly, telling robby that he knows. "she gives them to me too." and then they just stare at each other trying to figure out what they're going to do about you.

[erwinsvow]

Thoughts of loser Jack are keeping me warm during this storm. Thinking about reader mentioning they lost power during the night during a bad snow storm in Pittsburgh to one of the others and Jack overhearing

(we lost power at 4:30 am, it's now almost 11 pm)

for some reason, jack is slow to awaken this morning.

he's usually never like that—after years and years, he doesn't so much as need an alarm clock to get up every morning.

there must be something wrong today. he doesn't smell it—his apartment should be wafting with the scent of strong coffee, from his ancient machine that brews on a timed schedule, but rather he smells something else entirely—sweeter than his dark roast. the room is almost completely dark, but that doesn't make sense either—he likes the curtains shut all the way, likes it pitch-black to be able to fall asleep.

you stir in your sleep, and now he's really confused. it doesn't smell like coffee, he realizes, it smells like you. like your strawberry lotion and vanilla soap. jack's head is buried in your hair, and he can feel his hands somewhere around the incredibly soft skin of your waist. you're not wearing much—and whatever you are wearing has ridden up in your sleep.

there's so much bare skin, he can feel it, can feel the warmth of it against his arms and his chest, wonders why he chooses to sleep with blackout curtains when this is the view he's waking up to.

he needs it to be brighter. you sigh softly in your sleep-addled state, moving your body further on top of him. jack has an alarm clock on the nightstand, black with bright red numbers, and he cranes his neck to try to see what time is it.

the numbers are nowhere to be found. damn—maybe he is getting older. he has a pair of readers somewhere on the nightstand too, but he can't find them right now. that would require way too much movement, which would wake you up, and he can't have that—

"jack," you mumble, sleepily. god, he thinks, let her say my name like that forever. "cold."

"i know," he replies. he doesn't feel cold, not with your warm body pressed up against him. in fact, he feels dizzy. dizzy and exhausted and overwhelmed with how sweet your hair smells. he could drift off into another six hours of sleep right now.

he feels you adjusting, wriggling and moving around like you're burrowing against him for warmth. he moves until you're boxed in next to him, one of his hands stroking the soft expanse of your legs and working all the way up to your exposed hip.

you hum with content. he can tell you're falling back asleep already. he should really figure out what time it is, and where his alarm clock went—maybe the two of you knocked it over somehow last night.

he momentarily forgets all about his coffee. you start snoring softly, and jack adjusts his grip to get his arm around your waist, holding you like you might slip away if he doesn't. with his arms out of the covers, he thinks maybe it is a little cold today.

that's odd, he realizes, inhaling another big breath of your sweet scent. he presses a kiss to your hair. he usually keeps his apartment extra warm for you—he knows you get cold easily, and even though he overheats, he doesn't want you suffer, and, well—

"dr. abbot?" your voice snaps him out of it. he looks up at you across the counter, hadn't even realized when he'd basically drifted off, stopped paying attention. oh. that is so, so not good.

you look at him with concern. a lot of concern, eyes wide and lips parted, looking too much like the dream version of you that wakes up barely clothed beside him—shit.

you asked him something.

"yeah, kid?" he clears his throat and straightens his back. he's never had vivid dreams like that—it must have been some sort of hypnagogic hallucination, but even then. jeez, he really needs to get it together around you.

you must think he's crazy.

"are you okay?" you replace your original question for a moment, checking in on him. it's not supposed to be like that—he's your attending. it's his job to check on you, not the other way around, but even now—

"i'm fine. uh, you were saying?"

"oh, i was just wondering if you lost power this morning, too?"

he didn't. when he woke up this morning, his apartment was warm. his coffee machine had turned on. his alarm clock was working.

"uh, no-no, i didn't." you look at him with a smile that hits him straight in the chest.

"that's good!" you chirp cheerfully, "must be an across the town thing. bridget lost hers too and there's so much snow, i should have expected it. mine's still not back. nothing like a cold shower to wake you up, i guess," you ramble on, finishing with a laugh.

he needs a cold shower right now.

"when did it go out?" he asks, leaning against the counter. you mimic his actions.

"i think four-thirty. i was still asleep, but when i woke up it was so cold," you say, and jack starts feeling warm. it's just like in his dream. "i'm lucky my phone didn't die so my alarm still went off. and my neighbor texted me checking in-"

jack clenches his hand at the mention of your neighbor. he imagines some young guy that probably works from home and waits for an opportunity to text you—

"-but she was just making sure it wasn't only her unit. she said it's still not back," you finish, a little sadly.

you always bundle up in the hospital. a long sleeved underscrub with fun colors. on halloween you'd worn one with little pumpkins and witches hats. christmas had been little snowflakes.

he wonders what you'll pick out for valentine's day.

and right now you're also wearing a jacket—chocolate brown. the same color as his coffee. all those layers and running around all night and he still catches you rubbing your arms when you're seated at the computers, trying to finish a note.

"it's gonna get cold tonight," jack says, finally, and you nod in agreement.

it is going to get cold tonight—below freezing and with all the melty snow from the morning turning into ice. they're going to have a busy night, he can already tell.

and yet the only thing he can think of is you, alone in your cold apartment, lighting a candle and unable to take a hot shower at the end of a long day.

"i know. i really hope it's back soon. i don't know how i'll fall asleep without my heated blanket. maybe they'll let me stay here-"

"you could always stay at my place."

[erwinsvow]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐯𝐨𝐰 ౨ৎ

hi everyone, welcome to my masterlist!

Keep reading

[jeaniefranklins]

Sex scene as character study is so good. What is your relationship to your body? What is your relationship to your partner? What lessons have you absorbed from the culture about yourself as a sexual being? How much do you have to trust someone before being comfortable with intimacy? What fears and insecurities come to the fore for you when you take your clothes off? It's so good.

[saintshigaraki]

when you’ve had a really rough day and you walk into your extremely wealthy soccer player boyfriends apartment ready to relax and get your pussy ate and order in some food but your boyfriends annoying mouth breather pet sloth is already laid up on the couch

[p00pdev1l]

do u think vash is eating you out after cumming inside because he likes how you taste like him

[softsfern]

have yall heard about the bro cruise?

[pkmn-ruby]

“let’s see who breaks first, reggie!”

[gothbachira]

why did they give ichigo a mullet now my dicks hard

[softsfern]

i started the heated rivalry audiobook bc it was available online at my library and was listening to it on the erg

how do ppl listen to these books without getting publicly flustered???