#justbrowsinthroughwhatever

ok so i haven’t written for winsterbeam at all before, and these are just lil writing exercises, so this is gonna be pretty short 

but imma do 12. in grief (also im gonna be referencing @wingazer‘s oc minny since i’ve adopted her as canon at this point)

prompts here (x)

—

Simon’s still around. 

He’s there when Winston’s making business decisions, making comments on potential clients in his signature baritone. 

He’s there when Minny needs help with her English homework; her father was always good with words, and he knows the difference between an apostrophe and an apostrophe. 

He’s there when Winston can’t sleep, his embrace manifesting itself in the form of several pillows Winston has arranged around his form.

He’s always there. He’s been there since the day he left for that island (Winston’s blocked out the name by now, and he doesn’t want to know anymore). 

Simon said goodbye to his husband and daughter by kissing them both on the cheek. They can both remember the exact spots.

While he never came back, he never really left, either.

Whenever Winston’s remembering too hard, and it’s making tears prick at the inside of his eyelids, he can feel Simon’s lips ghosting across his own. It’s both a comfort and a knife to the chest. 

Fear

Five thousand lunar cycles into Yellow Diamond’s lifespan, she finally learns what it means to fear death.

She is young, more developing sediment than immortal goddess, and this makes her want to look away from Blue’s less-than-graceful descent through the air.

The awkward flailing of her cloaked limbs.

The sickening crack of white quartz as her spine collides against floor.

Yellow crawls to her side, on all fours, like a dog.

“Blue!” Her voice is hoarse, unrestrained, spiraling out of control. “Blue!”

But White Diamond only laughs, heavy fabric—torn, desecrated—swaying from the tips of her claws.

Colors:

In the beginning, there is White and only White—achromatic, vibrant, extraordinary, alone. She erupts out of a supernova and fashions Homeworld from the debris. She and it and this alien race are consequences of a dying star.

Her first subjects are made in her likeness—prototypic Pearls and Moonstones, Chalcedonies. They are so grateful to be alive that they can never be her equals.

One cycle, she destroys them all on a whim.

She does not know what she is looking for.

A blue quasar (fading). 

A golden sun (dying).

(Colors and companions.)

It is lonely in space.

Dull.