rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you and interests you and i’ll post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it!
Late to the party, but thank you (I think!) @ktlsyrtis for the tag! Here they are:
* The Valiant Taste of Death * Auror HP AU * Napping (should be shagging) *Sleepover/ the menagerie * A Certain Slant of Light (HP) * Prequel ACSoL (HP) * And so it is (just like you said it would be) (you’re shit at titles, but you have this song on repeat, you’ll click on this every time confused, it’s not what you think)(J/7) *No need to say goodbye * They can’t leave it like that (they can’t leave it at all) * Michael * the shower *idek just pwp? *The festival (Berena and the Fletchlings) *Ice cream (Fletchlings Evie) *the angsty AF marcus sex baby one *just words and feelings and stumbled explanations *Holiday nanny etc (DWP) *Dating MP style (DWP) *The crap drawer *Chess
Thanks to the new followers of my account (it’s lovely, thank you, but I’m not cool, pls don’t hold ur breath for anything world-rockin’ ;)) I’ve revisited my posts about Berena+1 aka, the time of head canon-ing threesomes (from Ric (god, my brain surprises even me sometimes; Colette; and the criminally underused Abi (God, did Serena and Bernie use her *smirks*); the absolutely iconic Rope-bunny Bernie.
This post isn’t going anywhere, except to say that I appreciate the follows, and the fact that my (and the extensive fandom’s) filthy thoughts are still well regarded, not least by me, bc I’ve just had enormous fun reading things we’ve all exclusively written here.
I love you all, you filthy, filthy, beautiful beans ;) <3
Also, my ask box is always open for any questions/ prompts :)
… Aand, apparently, that’s where both Serena and the author stopped thinking!
I started writing something for the @berena-tbc , but… Well. It’s me. I’d be disorganised and late for my own funeral.
I’ve been away from Tumblr for a while. I had a bit of a breakdown. Real life became a Bit More Shit, and I realised I wasn’t just empathising and sympathising with a fictional character, I was becoming the worst aspects of her, to everyone’s detriment. So, I had to take a step back.
I still wrote snippets and notes and occasionally the weirdest one-shots would spew out of me, but often, I couldn’t read Berena fic without throwing the phone, wailing, railing at canon. I avoided it a lot, even though not a day went by where I didn’t think about “what would Bernie/ Serena do/ be doing/ oh! I bet Berena would be…”
But! I’m better… Am getting better! And the last few months I’ve been devouring fic like air. I’m still a bit useless at commenting, and for that, I’m sorry - I appreciate all you fic writers and manippers who have kept me going even when I couldn’t get out of bed and yes, had to recover my phone from under the bed where it’s landed in a rage at canon, and all the things that could have been, that we could have had!
So! Here I am, for what it’s worth! I have things I pledge to finish, ideas that will take me years to work through, and works that I love to revisit and look forward to more from the writers and artists. You’re all amazing.
Berena was the best thing to have happened to me, not least because of the amazing friendships I have made. It’s part of my soul, I reckon, and I’ll never be over this ship. So, I’m back here, because I have so, so missed just logging on on a random Tuesday with something like “I wonder who makes the best curry and who do you reckon is most likely to be into BDSM?” and having a legit honest and hilarious conversation to follow! I have so missed being a part of this fandom, it was the best, and I’d love to get back to that!
Inspired by a magazine article about recycling old short stories, I present Remix Monday. Every week, I shall remix an extract from an old story with a new pairing.
The original story is Rainy Day,written in 2010 for The Closer. I’ve remixed the first 800 words into a Berena story; keeping the general atmosphere and most of the dialogue. You can read it below, or on AO3. Enjoy:
A flitting, fleeting idea that I have is Bernie expecting something from her grief over Cam. In the days after she waits, for the numbness to receed, for it to hit her. Makes it all the way to Spain and the only visceral reaction had been in those split seconds after her son had died, as that scream had torn her in half, wrenched itself from the pit of her stomach like Cam had, around 30 years ago.
She waits and expects anger. She knows the grief after losing a child. She’s seen in up close and destructive, when Elinor was taking from Serena. Whether it’s naive or shock or hope, she expects and anticipates acting in the same way. Bernie braces herself to rage against everything and everyone.
But she doesn’t. She does nothing out of the ordinary. Serena tiptoes around. Perhaps those first few weeks without Elinor are on her mind as well. The crushing weight of an absence that should never have happened.
Cam never leaves her mind, but she just can’t muster up much of anything and if she stops to think about it, to talk about it…
Bernie feels like she can BREATHE. When Cam died, horrifically, Bernie doesn’t feel that compressing ache that made Serena all twisted up and hateful. She feels like she can BREATHE. Cam was the last piece of the puzzle in setting herself free of Mogadishu. The person left to tell that had to be told. The person she couldn’t face, couldn’t live with hating her. The last thing holding her back and now…? Now there are no more secrets. No shadows or explanations or justifications to make on how she’s spent the past few years.
So Bernie breathes. Air fills her lungs. The weight leaves her shoulders. In and out. Until it’s too much. Till it leaves her so light headed that her eyes prick with tears and she can’t stop *breathing* because her son in gone and it’s awful and wrong and she shouldn’t feel like this and her head swims. Did she ever know her son? Did she allow him to know her? Is she saved? Did he save her?
And then Serena is by her side, reaching out, but she twists like wind and can’t stop breathing in and out, pushing Serena away as Serena tries to hold on. Her fingertips graze her elbow and Serena’s touch is the only tangible thing about her, the places where her fingers sweep the only part of her that feels real and solid… Bernie lets all the air in and out in sobs and whimpers now.
Bernie isn’t consumed. Bernie is weightless. And Bernie has always been one to rely on the certainty of gravity.
Serena Campbell and Berenice Wolfe have just tucked Guinevere Haynes into bed with a story and a non-blood-stained teddy bear (which Bernie went to pick out herself because “I can be trusted, Serena, honestly, I mean, the odds of seeing anyone getting squashed by a motorbike again are slim to none, especially outside of that godforsaken car park, but if it does happen then I will defer to your better judgement of never leaving me alone again and you can pick the next one, because I actually really like my jumpers”) and now they’re curled up on the sofa sharing a mulled wine because it’s winter and it’s basically warm sangria - something they’ve enjoyed sharing a glass of on their balcony and watching the world go by, occasionally making comments on life and just… Reconnecting - and looking at house listings, thinking not of the grand “we coulds” of life, but the simple, magical moments that make life grand
Lesbian culture is knowing all the lines from all the pre-Kiev Berena scenes by heart bc you have watched it too many times
[approaching with fag in her mouth] Engine been growling or whining? Any intermittent smell of hot or burning rubber?
[turning around] Define intermittent
Alternator might be cactus
Sounds serious
It is if you want to drive anywhere
Funny, you don’t look like a mechanic.. Well apart from the fag
I’m not a mechanic I’m a trauma surgeon
Ah, you must be Bernice Wolfe! Serena Campbell.. I think you’re ment to light it
[embarrassed] Uhh I’ve had this cigarette for two years, husband made me quit when British forces left helmand. Thought I’d keep it as a symbol, of my old independent self..
As symbols of freedom go it’s a bit pants, a nice bottle of shiraz however..
[cutesy heart eyes]
.. Goes really nicely with a fag!
Oh oh you’ve clearly made a great sacrifice for your husband
I wish you’d tell him
[more cutesy heart eyes and Bernie texting “shift going great”]
I WROTE THIS ENTIRELY ON THE SPOT WITHOUT REWATCHING THE CLIP EVEN ONCE AND NOW I’M SO MAD A MYSELF
