Tag: fic

madseason:

pixelegant:

There is no one here but you and him.

He offers a hand to help pull you up and you are Rose Lalonde, flighty broad. You are also Rose Lalonde, thirteen years old, and you are too tired to pretend you’re not. You take it and he pulls you up.

He doesn’t let go and there are a few awkward seconds in which he rearranges your hand in his so yours is cupped underneath, like one half of a tortoise’s shell over another. He pulls you close with his other hand.

You have taken enough dance lessons to recognize what this is. “You don’t know how to dance,” you rasp, your throat dry as a beach after all that’s happened. It’s not true – he does know how to dance, but it’s John who knows how to waltz (and Jade who knows how to do the robot). You can see the four-way webcam conversations in the back of her mind, far away now, in a different life.

Maybe he looks a glint unamused behind his glasses. “Yeah,” he says.

So he doesn’t dance. You just sway slowly slowly slowly back and forth, the pull and push of waves against the shore. Slowly slowly slowly, your head sinks, a white-gold sun to set on his shoulder. His breath brushes against your bangs, warm and light like the air from a forge.

There is no one here but you and him.

AaaaaAAAAAAAH, omg, omg.

Guys look how beautiful this piece of writing is, aaaaah!

Source: madseason

dirkar:

I want Rose Lalonde to create an instagram/tumblr blog that just posts really deep quotes and eloquent prose and poignant photographs of sad girls (often with deep quotes and eloquent prose pasted over the top) and she gains about 20,000 followers fairly quickly but about once every two weeks she will post a hardcore SBaHJ smut fanart and then immediately return to posting Quality Content. She never comments on this and never answers asks about it. Her followers start to grow restless with confusion and lack of explanation. She enjoys watching conspiracy theories flare up about mass SBaHJ porn hallucinations. Dave is so proud.

alpha dersecest is probably the best dersecest

velociraptier-blog:

She moves like a river, and you’re sick of similes and cliches like that but she’s just stubborn enough to warrant them, to make you sicker with their use. She walks like rain falls, and her mouth is a smirking stormcloud and when she shows her teeth it’s a lightning strike of white. You grit your own teeth at the thought.

She looks like you. Not exactly, but enough. Same white-blond hair, same thick eyebrows and arms a little too long for her body. You wonder if she’s noticed the similarities. Probably, since she’s about nine times more observant than you are. At least, you have to assume so. What with her being a writer. She’s desperately gorgeous and obnoxiously intelligent, and whenever you speak to her you feel like she’s got a rope around your neck and whenever you aren’t speaking to her you feel like the rope is being pulled so tight you ought to be purple in the face.

She’s so guarded, but she doesn’t hide as well as she’d like to. Not from you, anyway. Not from anyone who watches her closely.

There’s an glint in her eyes when champagne is passed around, and a quiver in her hand when she turns the drink down. Her dress is not the flat black that all the other women wear; a faint lilac tints it. She’s wearing white tights and big dumb mary janes, and you make a mental note to commend her on the ironic statement. She’s talking to her editor, and her laugh is forced and dry and it’s almost painful to watch.

You cross the room, and quietly ask “need a knight, Lalonde?”

She rolls her eyes but lightning strikes and she kisses your cheek. “I know what I’m doing, Strider.”

this time of night (Dave/Rose, alpha session; rated T)

paratactician:

I wrote a thing. I doubt I’ll put it up on AO3 because it’s short and probably not to everyone’s tastes and anyway I’m expecting it to be Jossed in about three days flat, but after the last update, I had to write it. And I did promise Tumblr user madseason I’d write more Dave/Rose, although this probably isn’t quite what she had in mind.

Rating is largely for language and ‘themes’; there’s no trigger warnings I can think of.

Keep reading

gingerybiscuit:

largedad:

i love dave and rose so much not like as a shipping thing just. theyre both so good and all of their conversations are constantly 100% perfect and theyre SO RELATED!!!! 

like they havent even known each other for that long but dave is already like permanently attached to her being like “hey rose look at this dumb thing hahaha rose hey. hi rose. rose. lalonde. hey” every five seconds 

like I LOVE BOTH OF YOU LITTLE FUCKERS ALSO DIRK AND ROXY I LOVE. EVERYONe.

i want dave to fall asleep on her shoulder watching a movie and drool a little bit so she draws a moustache on his face. 

i want rose to write a twenty-chapter sweet bro and hella jeff fanfic with grand sweeping prose and an examination of the human condition through the metaphor of jpeg compression and dave says he’ll never read something that long that’s not for school but he does and chapter 13 makes him cry a little. 

i want them to convince the trolls that a polite human greeting requires a chest-bump and finger-waggle and dave has to go lock himself in a bathroom to laugh because even though it was his idea rose beats him at straight faces every time. 

i want rose to try and teach him basketball and end up playing some sort of bastard child of H-O-R-S-E and croquet. 

i want dave to bring her hot chocolate when she stays up late reading and trying to keep her company until she kicks him out for being unable to shut up for five minutes at a time i want them to hug a lot i want them to share hilarious stories about their upbringing because they each know exactly what the other one is feeling