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caffeinated-cryptid · 4 years ago

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bishop to castle; check.

3.8k words | AO3 link | tags/warnings: suicidal behaviour, risk of falling from a height, talking someone down from a ledge, hurt/comfort, platonic roceit, positive ending.

“After weeks of moping post-POF, Janus goes into the imagination to find Roman. They end up having a much more intense conversation than he could have ever planned for.”

-------------------

Janus hadn��t seen hide nor hair of Roman since their last argument. It was fine, probably, he justified to himself, despite how Patton had returned from their talk with pursed lips and worriedly furrowed eyebrows. He likely just needed time to process everything that had happened, and Janus wasn’t going to push that.

(His reluctance to address the issue had nothing to do with the fact that he dreaded another confrontation. Totally not.)

After all, forcing his presence on Roman now could potentially only make things worse. So instead he would just have to wait for him to come around first-- to calm down enough to be willing to hear him out without resorting to name-calling.

Janus was plenty busy anyway, what with his new position in Thomas’ life. More than smoothing over one less-than-steller relationship with a side (which Janus was collecting like pokemon cards recently, it seemed), he elected to focus on ensuring Thomas held true to his promises of self-care, which meant working with Patton more often.

That wasn’t so terrible, at least it wasn’t as bad as the him from a year ago would have expected; the side was trying harder to welcome his contributions which he appreciated. Though inadvertantly through this new partnership, he found himself being dragged into more casual hang-outs, where they would do nothing but...chat. Sharing daily anecdotes and worries and secrets about themselves. It was strangely open and the sort of thing Janus had to adjust to, but with this new friendship he had found himself in, he did his best not to ruin it.

“I’m getting worried.” Patton admitted one day, setting down the tv remote after a finished screening of some Air Bud spinoff. How Janus had been wrangled into watching that ceaseless dog series was beyond him. “I think the others might be starting to come around to you, but Roman...”

Patton didn’t need to finish his sentence, because Janus already knew what he meant. With Virgil and Logan, he’d been making an effort to try to prove his worth as a member of the team (whether or not that was working was yet to be seen, despite Patton's generous assertions that it would all work out eventually), but he hadn’t even gotten the chance do to that with the creative side. As much as he had first assumed that time and space would do the trick, it seemed like that wasn’t the case after all.

“I suppose a confrontation is inevitable.” He grimaced, knowing that this had been put off for long enough.

“Would you do that?” Patton asked suddenly, looking to him with relief. It made Janus realize that it sounded like he had signed up to go talk to Roman himself.

“Uh...” Janus tensed, his previous concerns surfacing again. “I don’t think I would be the best suited to have this conversation-”

“Oh- Pleeease? You two need to talk most of all! Besides, when I went, he wouldn’t even...” Patton trailed off, biting his lip with a pout. “...Could you try, at least? Maybe you could get through to him.”

“...Alright. I’ll go before lunch.” Janus agreed begrudgingly, rewarded by Patton’s grateful smile. Stupid puppy face. That would have to stop working eventually.

-------------------

That was how Janus found himself in the lawless lands of The Imagination.

It had filled him with dread, knocking on the red and gold door and recieving no response. Even more so when he risked intruding anyway and seeing the wrecked state of the room, and then noticing the entrance to The Imagination wide open.

Unsurprisingly, that was where he found the side in question. More surprising was when he did, finding him sitting on the edge of the tallest turret of his castle, like he had decided to overlook his kingdom in the most dangerous way possible. Janus wasn’t so naive to assume that was all it was though.

Roman probably saw him approach as he ran the rest of the way to the castle, and that pushed him to go faster, dashing through the lonely walls of the old building until he was climbing up those spiralling stairs all the way to the top. When he finally made it, he stood there doubled over and completely out of breath as he adjusted to the high altitude winds that bit at his cheeks. He used the seconds he took to catch his bearings to figure out what to do-- his eyes never once leaving Roman’s back, who luckily hadn’t moved at all during his frantic dash. Perhaps his insticts had been wrong and there was nothing dangerous going on here. Every part of him screamed to stay and stop whatever this was though-- so he did.

“Roman.” He ended up saying once his breath had evened out, and nothing more. There was too much going on in his head to break whatever balance they currently had; too much to ask, too much to say, to explain, to defend, to try to understand.

Said side turned his head slightly to make eye-contact; not facing him, yet it was acknowledgement at least. “Deceit.” He said after a beat. His voice was cold, but not angry, and for some reason Janus would have prefered it if Roman were upset with him. Anything but this odd indifference that made him feel guilty for not summoning up the courage to check in sooner.

“Janus.” Janus corrected in an invitation to use his name. He intended it as a sign of goodwill, but Roman’s face twitched and he looked away again, this time his focus on the ground directly below.

“I came to talk.” Janus said in an attempt at a distraction. He was disheartened when Roman made no move to acknowledge him again, so he continued despite his uneasiness. "Would you please come down?”

“What? Scared, Deceit? I'm not doing anything. I'm not going to either, so you can go back to whoever sent you and tell them I’m fine.” Roman scoffed and the string of lies felt bitter in the fridgid air, enveloping him like an unwanted hug. If possible, Janus’ heart begun racing even quicker.

He wanted to protest and say that he had come of his own volition, but Janus knew that lying right now wouldn’t do either of them any good. “In that case, would you do it for my peace of mind?” He tried instead, and it earned him a wry smile, sent from over Roman’s shoulder.

“What ever gave you the impression I care about that?” Roman shot back, standing up only to turn on his heel to step down into the crenel next to him, then back up onto the the next merlon. He continued, going up and down and slowly circling around Janus like a predator would it's prey, but somehow he didn't feel like the one being hunted here. Actually, it was more like he was trying to convince a mouse that the cheese on a trap wasn't worth it. And being a snake himself, that simile was especially ironic.

“...That’s fair. We can talk like this, then. I wanted to apologize and hopefully make amends.”

Roman’s footing twisted haphazardly and Janus all but shot forward to steady him until he was given a deadly glare that froze him in his tracks.

“Stay back! You're not fooling me again. As far as I know, you'll just try to convince me to take a swan dive right of the side of this tower. No greater depth to plummet to than that, huh?"

“I- that's the complete opposite of what I want.” Janus stressfully replied, fighting against the urge to pull Roman off of the edge and end this whole thing himself, instead holding up his hands as a sign that he wouldn’t come closer. God, where had he gone so wrong go end up in this situation? He should have convinced Patton to come with him when he had the chance-- at least he probably would have had a better idea on how to get through to Roman when he was like this. Comparitively, Janus had no clue. He didn’t have the trustworthiness or the years of friendship.

“I believe you. You've already made it so clear just how much you care.” Roman replied sarcastically. Janus felt his hackles rising.

“I’m not lying! I didn't want any of this.” Janus gestured around. “There's so much I wish I could take back, but especially whatever I did to cause this.”

“Oh, Janus.” He felt a small dose of hope when Roman finally used his name, which was quickly dashed as he huffed out a laugh. “Always thinking you have a finger in every pie. Isn't it enough for me to come to this conclusion by myself?”

He continued bitterly, practically stomping his way around the edge of the tower now. “It's not like it was hard. Even an idiotic egomaniac prince like myself can tell when he's not wanted anymore. When the dream has died.”

Janus, despite the silver tongue he may possess, struggled for words in the face of Roman’s insecurity. He had wanted the anger because he had assumed it would be easier to prove that he wasn’t as evil as Roman was so keen to accuse him of being. He just hadn’t expected this issue to be so deeply sensitive. (Though perhaps he should have picked up on that hint when he saw the other side looking ready to jump to a temporary death). “Thats not true at all, you’re incredibly important and all of us need you. Perhaps we’re operating under new rules now, but that doesn’t mean you’re not wanted.”

But it seemed that wasn’t the best thing to say. Roman stopped in his tracks, his expression unreadable as he began shaking with fury or perhaps something else. “...If I’m ‘so important’, why does it never feel that way? Why am I the only one who has to change constantly for rules that can never stay the same? Why do I have to make sacrifices and tone down my voice?”

His controlled tone got louder and more stressed. “Why are my best efforts never good enough? Why are my doubts ignored? Why is it considered fair to disparage my work? To ignore the blood, sweat, and tears I put into everything?”

Janus stared in horror as Roman kept going, yelling over anything he could have possibly wanted to say.

“Why does it take this to be be fucking noticed?!”

Both of them paused when his rant reached a screaming crescendo and fat angry tears rolled down Roman's cheeks.

"...Forgive me if I'm having a little difficulty trusting what you say right now.” He sniffed, ducking his head away to wipe his eyes. The words were distant despite the soft way they were uttered.

Once again Janus was lost for what to say as he watched Roman compose himself. There was simply too much there to unpack, too many years of built-up stress and resentment. What in the absolute hell had these sides been doing all this time? “...I do wish to take some responsibility for that, though. Your hesitancy to trust again.” That seemed like a good place to start, if any.

Roman only snorted humourlessly at his efforts though, voice tired and unenthused. “I'm sure you would. It's a lot easier to sweep aside a broken vase rather than acknowledge its cracks when they’re forming, after all. That was the lesson you taught us, right?”

Janus winced at the callback to his first appearence to Thomas. He didn’t necessarily regret that day, but having it thrown back now made it feel like something to be ashamed of; seeing his lessons interpreted in such a way. “...Is that how you see yourself? Broken?” He asked instead, squashing down his indignation.

He only got silence in return. Janus swallowed, definitely regretting his hesitance to resolve this issue now.

“Roman, even though I doubt you’d trust my words, I promise that we're not trying to simply ‘sweep this aside’. If we're going with the vase metaphor, all of us want a chance to try to glue the pieces back together. Make right on all of the ways you’ve been wronged.” When that got no response, he tentatively asked, “Have you ever heard of Kintsugi?"

“...Broken pottery fixed with gold, I'm aware. But trying to apply that right now is sloppy, even for you. People are never so beautiful after being so thoroughly broken, nor is it that easy." Slowly, Roman sat down on the edge, and even though his legs were dangling over the wrong side, Janus' heart finally felt some semblance of rest. He took a step forward.

"I disagree. Kinstugi is rarely an straight-forward process either, and yet it achieves such splendid results with just a little patience and care. Which is to say... while it may not be the easiest thing to do, there’s undeniably beauty and strenght in survival. Trying again even when it feels impossible.”

“Of course you'd think that, Mr. Kill or be killed. You have no choice in whether you get to continue forward. But I do.”

Janus paused at that, only four paces away from Roman now. The creative side startled when he peered backwards and saw him so close, and then he glared at Janus as he stood up again, this time facing him fully. His foot slid backwards until the worn-down structure crumbled under his heel, sending rocks tumbling down below. It was a warning, Janus realized as his blood frooze in his veins.

“Don’t look so shocked. I control everything here, or did you forget?” Roman smiled. It wasn’t a happy smile or even a smug one; it only looked like he was stretching his mouth unnaturally, all pretenses of putting on a convincing performance stripped away. “If I want, I could have a Pegasus fly by and save me at the right moment. Or I could expand the moat to catch me. Or..."

Roman looked frustrated for a second when he couldn't think of anything else, even more so when Janus patiently waited for him to think of another example. In the end, he gave up.

"The point is, I call the shots about what happens to me."

"But would you? Save yourself?" Janus questioned hesitantly. He knew he was treading on thin ice, so he left it there. Roman raised an eyebrow at him and he returned it, making it clear that he wanted an answer. He recieved it with a scoff.

“Of course I would. What kind of question is that?”

Lie.

Janus winced. “Roman... You are aware of my ability to detect lies, yes?”

The creative side blinked in surprise and then looked at him with wide eyes, as if he hadn’t expected to be called out. Like it had been so natural to brush aside the question that he didn’t even realize his own feelings. Fortunately, Janus’ ability was too keen to be fooled by one’s own self-deception. He could see below the surface like that; pull people’s hidden truths from them and keep them for himself, like a keeper of forbidden knowledge (Though in moments like these, sometimes he wished he couldn’t. Ignorance truly is bliss).

“Should I ask again?” He pressed. “Are you really planning on saving yourself?”

This time Roman’s face screwed up in confliction and he directed his gaze to the floor of the tower. It was an awfully clinical way to ask, but it felt necessary to stop dancing around what was important-- this casual show of self-destruction.

Eventually, the other cracked with a tired huff of laughter. Sadly genuine this time.

“...It's certainly nice to think that I could.” Roman admitted as he rubbed his face, apparently not mad at being called out this time. “Finally being a hero again, even if it's only to myself.”

Janus paused in shock. Was he still misinterpreting that moment?

“That wasn't a lie.” Janus blurted out, taking even himself by surprise by the thoughtless exclamation. “Thomas still thinks of you as his hero. There’s no need to do things like this to prove it.”

Romans eyes went watery and he avoided his gaze.

“At this point I don't think it matters, when I haven’t been acting like it at all lately.” He whispered coarsely, uncharacteristically quiet compared to the wind. “Frankly, I'm surprised you're even trying to stop me."

Janus eyes softened and he took another tentative step forward, then another when Roman didn't react badly. “Why wouldn’t I? I’m not just Deceit, you know. Part of my job is to help you.”

“...Because you hate me? At this point you have more reasons to than not.” Roman explained warily, looking at him like Janus were seconds away from snapping and shoving him over the edge. It hurt to have that sort of mistrust placed on him, but at the same time Janus understood it. He had often been in that sort of situation before; doubting the safety of opening up to other people. That was just part of his job, to be doubtful and wary in order to protect the self. Yet to see it so openly on somebody else felt like a punch to the gut, even though he should have been used to that feeling of being distrusted by now.

“Do you think me so sensitive that a schoolyard insult would make you my archenemy? Or being called evil? That is...sort of what I’ve been going for.” He cracked a joke, gesturing to his outfit. When Roman kept staring at him he sighed. “Of course I don’t hate you, Roman.”

Roman shifted doubtfully. “That doesn’t mean you like me, either. Maybe it doesn’t mean much to you, but you should know how- how being called that hurt me.”

"...Yes.” It was Janus’ turn to be uncomfortable. “Perhaps at first I felt attacked and wanted to make you feel the same hurt, but I would never have said that had I known just how deeply it would have impacted you. I’m sorry for that.”

Roman’s expression turned incredulous, like he couldn’t believe Janus had apologized. “...You know, I wanted to make you upset. I wanted you gone.”

“I figured.” Janus nodded.

“And that doesn’t change anything? Even though I acted so...” Roman bit his lip. “So unheroic?”

Janus stifled a sigh. By now, he really hated that word with a passion. It had caused so many high standards, so many instances of self-sacrifice, so many misguided attempts at selflessness and perfection. Perhaps later they could talk about it all and lay out why it had done so much harm, but for now he decided not to push it, not when he felt so close to getting a breakthrough.

“Believe it or not, but I think that you've been plenty heroic already. This whole time you've been fighting for something you thought was valient and noble, and that means something, even if it was for a misguided cause.”

That took Roman off-guard. He moved his foot away from the edge subtley, and had Janus not been focused on his face, he would have considered it a small victory.

“...What’s the point of all of this, really? Is this some... some dastardly plot?” Roman questioned skeptically. He was looking even more cornered now that he was letting Janus’ words sink in.

“All I'm here for is to offer the helping hand you need, if you’ll accept it.” Janus said softly as he extended his hand up to him. “Really, my only plot right now is to get you off that ledge before you give me a heart attack. Please?”

Roman stared at him, desperately trying to find some sort of mistruth in his eyes before his gaze lowered to the outsretched hand. It felt like time slowed in the seconds he was making his decision and Janus held his breath, waiting...wating... until finally the other side nodded and took his hand.

With Janus’ help, Roman stepped down, looking confused and lost now that he was away from the edge. The expression pained Janus’ heart, so he opened his arms half expecting rejection, only to be taken back by how quickly Roman latched onto him. Janus wasted no time clinging back, so relieved that he actually suceeded that he didn't want to risk ever letting go, like this moment could be torn away at any second. It was no surprise when he felt the other’s chest jerk with held-back sobs until there was a wetness on his shoulder, and he didn't say anything about it. He didn't need to either, because Roman spoke up first.

“It didn’t mean anything. Really!” He exclaimed through messy tears. “I was only thinking about it!”

Lie.

“...It's okay if it was more than that.” Janus soothed, patting his back. “It's okay to feel low and in need of help.”

That made him cry harder and Janus was relieved to see the excess of emotions finally pour out. While waiting for Roman to calm down, he had to fight for his own tears to not spill over. Inevitably, the stress of the situation finally caught up when the adrenaline wore off, and he sagged into the hug, sniffling quietly and trying not to fall over on his aching legs. He really just sprinted up multiple flights of stairs, didn’t he? Belatedly, he realized that he must have lost his hat at some point during the journey because he could feel the wind tousle his hair.

It would have been funny if it weren’t for the absolute rush of emotions he had just gone through.

The two of them stood there for what would normally be considered an awkward amount of time, except the act of simply hugging on solid ground was the biggest comfort in the world, too much to ruin the moment. They waited until they got through the worst of their tears before they dared speak again. Once again, Roman went first.

“Sorry for laughing at you back then.” He said, voice reflecting the yelling and crying he'd been doing. It felt genuine. “I actually really like your name...the mythology suits you. Very dramatic.”

Janus laughed wetly, finally a true statement. “Why, thank you. And I apologize for where I’ve wronged you.”

Finally, they straightened up. Roman took one look at him and summoned hankerchiefs for them both. Janus accepted it and wiped away his tears as gracefully as he could.

“Hopefully we can have a more in-depth discussion on this later, but for now Patton and I prepared lunch, if you’d be willing to have us.” Janus asked, hopes raised.

“...That sounds good.” Roman smiled.

Janus smiled back.

Together, the two of them descended down the steps of the tower, and the imagination was the slightest bit sunnier when they reached the outside.

#my writing #sanders sides #platonic roceit #janus sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #roman angst #roman stans come get y'alls juice #(i wrote this in a Mood so if this is janky i'm sorry)

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beomglocks · 4 years ago

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colors ; k.th

part of the badlands series!

colors: “you’re ripped at every edge but you’re a masterpiece.”

based off halsey’s badlands album.

warnings and other: museum curator!taehyun, old money!y/n, mentions of depression and grass smoking, little bit of angst i guess??

taehyun sighed as he took down the 11th painting this week. the museum hadn't been very busy in the past couple of weeks, maybe because the weather was getting colder. one part of him figured that many people just wanted to be bundled up at home watching holiday themed movies and drinking warm drinks rather than appreciating enchanting artworks.

he couldn't fool himself though, he knew the truth. today's generation didn't care about the fine arts anymore. a shame, seeing as everything around them seemed to be inspired by it.

kang taehyun worked at his local museum. he had been offered the position by the owner one night while roaming the place. this should've been a red flag looking back. the owner seemed desperate for someone to fill in the position since the previous employee had left without notice. nonetheless, taehyun took the job and didn't regret it one bit.

open 24/7, the red haired boy was always working on the clock. not that there was much to do seeing as most of the people his age or even a bit older didn't hang around museums purely for the joy of it. actually, his only job was to exhibit the newly arrived collections, clean and dust them off, and conduct regular tours and workshops for the public. due to this and the fact that not many people even came by he would take regular breaks.

once in a while you'd see the occasional old person or art expertee roaming around the small museum. if you were lucky, you'd see the local edgy teens posing next to a piece they didn't understand just to get an aesthetic picture. taehyun would also have the unfortunate job of shooing them away or scolding them for getting just a bit too close.

recently his boss, who was the museum manager and maybe the only other person besides taehyun that worked there, had informed him that due to funds and unfortunate unforeseen events, the museum would be closing down in about a month from now. this caused taehyun to fall deep into a depression since this was his only job and he loved it here. the museum was like his second home. he found comfort in the silent images displayed throughout the building. they always told him a story and when new pieces came in he would sit and stare attentively at the new anecdote being told to him.

taehyun smiled sadly at the piece he had just taken down. it was a painting of 2 people kissing however both of their faces were covered by white cloths. this was his favorite and he didn't even have a clue as to why. probably because of the uncertainty of what the other was feeling or because of the fact that the other couldn't see each other's faces through the cloth, that would've made the kiss more exciting in his opinion.

he stepped out of the museum and into the frosty air of the outside world. it was only autumn so why was it so cold? he thought to himself. he discreetly pulled out a prerolled blunt and his white lighter from his pocket. he lit it and stuck in between his slightly chapped lips.

maybe smoking dope wasn't the healthiest thing in the world, especially for a boy so young, barely 19, but it helped taehyun get his mind off the inevitably of losing his job and being homeless for the winter. he shuttered at the thought. he would have to room with one of his friends, he sighed shaking his head. no, he didn't want to be a burden, yeonjun had helped him enough as it is.

he looked at his surroundings taking in the cold autumn afternoon. the trees had long lost their leaves and were bare. the sky was a murky gray color as if it were threatening to rain any time soon. he noticed a girl bundled up in winter clothes near the entrance of the building glance at him. he smiled at her and she jumped at the eye contact, thinking that he wouldn't catch her. taehyun chuckled as he watched her rush into the museum. "back to work," he said out loud to himself.

once the blunt had been almost gone, he smoked what was left of it and headed back into the empty museum. he was feeling light-headed, the effects of the blunt finally taking action, but taehyun was used to it so it barely affected him as much.

he made his way to the girl who was now starting to take off her jacket and scarf. taehyun tapped on the girl's shoulder to get her attention. "hi," he smiled at the girl, showing off his dazzling smile. "if you'd like, i could give you a tour of the museum." well what's left of it anyways, he thought to himself.

"oh...no thank you," said the girl. she smiled warmly at the worker. "well not to be invasive of your decision but it's sort of in my job description," taehyun replied as he rubbed the back of his neck. the girl sighed in defeat, "i guess i have no choice then."

taehyun laughed as he took her coat and scarf to hang up in the public closet, "yep, trust me. they say im not that bad of a tour guide, im quite fun to be around if i do say so myself. i promise not to bore you too much." the girl nodded, not entirely convinced. "if i do end up bored i will hold you accountable..." she took a moment to take a peek at taehyun's name tag, "kang taehyun," she joked.

as they walked through the museum the girl couldn't help but notice that it was fairly empty. "why are there almost no paintings in here?" she laughed hesitantly. "i thought this was a museum?" taehyun stopped walking, turning to her with a sad expression on his face.

"the museum is expected to close in about a month or so," he stated simply. "oh...that's terrible. may i ask why?" the girl responded. "my boss says we've run out of funds or something like that," taehyun chuckled bitterly. "people don't really give a shit about good art these days anyways."

"that's a shame..."

they continued to look through the various paintings that were still up and occasionally the girl would ask to see the ones that were taken down and left on the floor. it seemed the two were lost in each other's company as night started to approach.

"thank you for the tour of this lovely museum taehyun. it was fun but it's a shame such a nice museum like this is closing down," the girl said softly. taehyun nodded solemnly, he just wanted to get this day over with and crash at his apartment. he didn't blame the girl before him but talking to her reminded him of his harsh reality. a notification coming from the girl's bag made both of them jump as they were both lost in their thoughts.

"ah, that must be my father. he's kind of annoying when it comes to my curfew," she chuckled, digging her phone from her bag. taehyun watched her with a bored expression until his eyes reached her bag. he hadn't noticed this earlier but she had been carrying a louis vuitton bag. his eyes bulged at the expensive item that was so close to him, they got even larger when she fished out the latest iphone from it.

taehyun wasn't poor per se, he had just enough to get by since he was living paycheck to paycheck. however, he had never been in such close proximity to any luxury items. he suddenly felt weird being this close to this girl.

"what do you mean by curfew?" taehyun asks hesitantly. the girl sighs, "my father is one of south korea's richest chaebol's, maybe one of the big three at his point." she rolled her eyes as if this information was nothing. "he's super strict with me because i guess i'm just his show pony daughter whom he can show off to say he's a good father."

taehyun gulped, had he just been casually hanging out with the daughter of one of the richest men in korea? he felt sick at this. she looked up at taehyun's uneasy expression, "oh my god im sorry i just dumped that all on you! i just needed to catch a break so i came here, i didn't mean to drag you into my life story."

taehyun fixes his face, laughing nervously, "no- no its fine really. we all need a break sometimes right? im glad you got to have that time here." the girl smiled up at him, completely misreading his nervous laughter, "im glad i got to spend it here with you taehyun."

"oh before i go!" taehyun watched her pull out a checkbook from her bag and his stomach dropped. he silently watched her scribble some stuff onto the slip and tear it out, handing it to him.

"there's not too much i can take out of my account without my father flipping out but i hope this helps even just a little. whether it be in your personal life or with the museum."

taehyun eyes the check and chokes when he sees 50,000 dollars written neatly on the black line. he swears he can feel sweat going down his face like in the cartoons. "i- i cant possibly take this from you." he moves to hand the check back but the girl refuses to take it back. "taehyun, you love this museum with your entire being. i see the way to look at the paintings and the passion with which you explained them to me. i'd hate to see that taken away."

"plus, if you're gone who's gonna give me the tour when i come back?" she laughs as if this is something casual. taehyun's hands shake as he pockets the check, "i seriously cannot thank you enough...you don't know how much you just helped the museum and m-"

the girls phone dings again and she grumbles, "ugh why can't he just leave me alone. sorry but i think i really gotta go for real before he tracks my location or something crazy like that."

taehyun nods wistfully at the mention of her having to leave. he was really starting to enjoy her company.

"oh by the way," the girl giggles as she pulls her coat on hurriedly. "was that you smoking weed at the corner of the museum earlier?" the girl chuckled to herself again just remembering it. taehyun furrowed his eyebrows, "why would you say that kind of thing at out loud and at my job?!" he scolded in a playful hushed voice.

"i just thought it was funny and you also smelled of weed the entire tour, i didn't mind though so don't worry," the girl concluded. she was starting to walk away towards out the door now. "i'll walk you out," taehyun offers. "such a helpful employee. is this in the job description too?" the girl jokes, turning to him while a smile on her lips. "well, not exactly," taehyun says smoothly.

she shakes her head, "i'll see you soon taehyun." he watches her walk off into the darkness of the night when he suddenly remembers something.

"hey what's your name by the way?" he shouts after the girl. for some reason taehyun really was hopeful of seeing her again.

"y/n!" came the disembodied voice of the girl he had just met.

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skzafterdusk · 4 years ago

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kim seungmin + “I Love It”

This was requested from the Dean Title Track Prompt List I posted where you can pick an SKZ member and a song for a drabble fic

Word Count: 2.9k (idk if that’s considered drabble length)

Tag: kitchen sex, college!au, photographer!Seungmin

Summary: You and Seungmin rent a high-rise apartment for his birthday weekend. And, well, birthday sex...’nuff said.

You and your boyfriend checked into the apartment earlier this morning, wanting to spend some time together before he headed to the one class he had on Fridays. It was no burden to him, of course; an intermediate portrait photography course that he’s been so engrossed in.

But that only meant, shortly after you guys settled into your home for the weekend, Seungmin was pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before leaving you there alone.

You had taken painstaking care looking for the best apartment to rent, wanting something with tons of natural light that you and Seungmin got drunk on, but also a view of your fabulous city, Seoul. This was the gift you settled on for his 20th birthday which, unfortunately, fell on a weekday where both of you would be too busy with classes.

The view, as you hoped, was incredibly lovely. From the wall of windows in the living room, you were able to see the sun as it continued to rise over the city. It was so calming, in fact, that you decided a nap would be in order after you took the time to unpack Seungmin’s and your stuff. The close you brought, the fruits and vegetables you washed, your favourite ground coffee sat next to the coffee machine.

It’s almost as if you guys actually lived there. Having a dream be a reality for so short of time could definitely be the spark to motivate you once you had to go back to the real world.

And so, a couple hours later, you finally went to the bedroom, laying on top of the covers so as not to disturb anything too much, and allow the unfamiliar serenity of the new place lull you to much needed rest…

Maybe you’ve been slowly coming to for some time now, the room just as silent as it had been when you fell asleep. But even with your eyes closed, the presence of another life redistributes the quiet, makes an empty space feel more full.

And it’s the familiar sound of a light shutter that makes you blink until your eyes flutter open.

The room is much warmer than it had when you initially fell asleep. Even in the shadows of the bed frame, Seungmin seems to radiate the glow like the sun that is clearly setting from the windows behind you.

And, much like you had expected, Seungmin’s white camera is in his hands, a soft smile on his lips as he inspects the photo before looking up again.

He’s crouched down so your faces almost entirely leveled, close so he doesn’t have to raise his voice.

“You just looked so peaceful and beautiful,” he explains. “Wanna see it?”

You lift yourself onto your elbow so you can lean forward as he shows you the camera screen. And there’s a grin on your lips before you even notice.

Despite the subject, it’s still a wonderful composition, the sun a vibrant and warm orange spilling rays through the floor to ceiling walls behind the bed. The burst floats above your darker silhouette, but your relaxed features are still distinguishable.

“I love it,” you say. Your hand is already reaching for his face, wanting to kiss him while the serenity of the moment is still present.

You both drink in the moment, both are slow to press your lips to eachother’s and even slower to pull away.

“Happy Early Birthday, Minie.”

“What do you have planned for me this weekend?”

With that question, you readjust yourself, sitting up. Seungmin follows suit, coming to sit next to you on the bed while you explain the plan for the night.

“I figured we would cook our meal for tonight. So we’ll need to go to the market to buy meat. And we can get you a cake, as well.”

With the plan set, you both went about freshening up, Seungmin wanting to rid himself of the simple clothes he’d worn to university for the day, and you adding the smallest of makeup just to make yourself more put together.

Going to the market together reminded you of when you’d first started dating, Seungmin insisting on cooking for you because you were both young college students that didn’t have the means to always eat out. When you got back to his dorm, that was when you discovered that maybe his cooking skills relied more on ambition than technique.

Even though it’s been a year and a half, it feels like so much has gone down since then. From sharing classes to being on opposite sides of campus, from late night study dates or photography adventures, you’ve grown to know Seungmin to a point where imagining him not in your life is kind of impossible.

“I’ll start prepping the vegetables,” he states matter-of-factly once you guys are back at the apartment. By now, the sun is further behind the city. You need to turn on the ceiling lights for proper illumination, and you’re seeing this space in a (literally) new light.

“Hey,” Seungmin calls to you, putting a hand on your elbow. You realize, then, that your mind had begun to wander, staring at your reflection in the window across the room. “What are you thinking about?”

It was a commonplace question for the two of you. Similar in the way that both of you tended to stay in your own heads, you both understood that all it took was a simple question to bring you back and converse with each other. You’d be lying if you hadn’t spent some nights just appreciating that aspect alone.

When you look at him, you smile wide, quickly popping up to kiss him on the jaw.

“I’m just really happy we met.” There is no other way to put it, even if it comes out bluntly. Even though the confessions of being in love with eachother have come and gone, it wasn’t common for you to just say those words. It was said in different ways; in the way he told you to worry about an assignment late and focus on yourself now, the way you asked him about whatever project he was working on in his photography class. Sometimes, like now, though, the words just need to be said as plainly and complex as they are.

“I love you.”

With his hand still on your arm, he pulls you into his chest. “I love you,” he repeats.

The moment passes easily and smoothly, and soon the kitchen is filled with a cacophony of sounds: meat sizzling in a pan, the overhead fan whirring to combat all the steam and smoke wafting the air. A jazz playlist blares from his phone on the island. Everything is so picture perfect, you think absently.

Seongmin must think this, as well, as he holds his camera up to his eye. You don’t even know when he retrieved it, but now he’s having a shoot of his own, taking shots that you can’t fathom look all that nice, but they’re endearing.

You turn the stove off as the meat finishes cooking, impatiently grabbing a piece to taste.

“Hey! Already starting without me?” teases Seungmin as he puts his camera down.

You scoff. “Head chef always gets to taste first.” At the playful pout on your boyfriend’s lips, concede easily. “But siux chef gets to taste, too.” And you feed him a piece he eagerly takes.

You don’t even bother taking the food over to the dining table, nor do you bother with using plates and dishes. Possibly you didn’t realize how hungry you both were, but there’s something so nice about just standing there, talking in between bites, laughing about random anecdotes.

“Is it time for birthday cake?” Despite phrasing it as a question, you’re already rounding towards the refrigerator where you’d put it once you got back from the store.

There’s arms suddenly wrapping around your waist, his chin hooking on your shoulder from behind.

“We have all weekend for cake. Kinda want you for dessert.”

Despite his words, you scrunch your nose up, looking at him awkwardly from where his face is. “Your reasoning is flawed, sir. You can have me all weekend, too.”

And, really, he shouldn’t look as adorable as he does when he raises his brows and widens his eyes. “Really? All weekend? It really must be my birthday.”

Your elbow is light to jab him from behind at his cheesy words. But he only gives enough room for you to turn in his hold. Your hands slide to rest on the back of his neck, your fingers having a mind of their own as they start to play with the hair there.

“And you ‘kinda’ want me? You’re gonna have to know for sure, Min,” you playfully reprimand.

His eyes darken, smile falling from his lips. It’s an expression that commands attention, and you obey effortlessly.

“I’m still hungry, (Y/N),” he starts, his voice low. “How about I eat you, instead?”

You hum. “Cannibalism. Sexy.”

Luckily, he doesn’t pay much attention to your words, only swoops down to pull you into a heated kiss that leaves you breathless. He’s quick to lick his tongue along your bottom lip, dives in when given the slightest entry. Even though this is nowhere near your first time, your body always ignites with desire at how strong his passion drives him forward.

You lock your arms around his neck when his grip on your waist grows stronger, begging your body to be flushed against his. Pesky clothing aside, you can feel the heat of his body, the way his chest heaves with yearning for oxygen that comes as second priority to just consuming you.

But when he does break away, it’s to switch your positions, the island digging into your lower back as he goes back in. He tilts your head, licking into your mouth behind your teeth. He swallows the moan his actions illicit. They taste sweet going down, if it wasn’t obvious by the way he does it again and again.

You beg him softly. “Do something, please.” Sometimes he makes you impatient, makes you need him now. And just as you obey him, he never denies you what you want.

A normally gentle man turns quite wild, his hands heavy as they work to rid you of your shirt and bra. Your chin tucks into your shoulder while his lips trail down the other side, biting and kissing at your exposed skin. Your half-lidded eyes catch that reflection you admired earlier. The night now almost completely blackened with a sunless sky. Even though a world lives outside that window, all you can see is the scene it showcases.

You with your man buried in your neck, his fist clenched to the edge of the counter beside you.

Just as quickly, he brings you back to this moment in your own skin when he brings his lips back to yours. Now it’s your turn to work on his shirt, immediately going for his pants next. Without much fanfare, you wrap your hand around his hardening length, feeling a chill run down your spine at the harsh gruff it sparks from his throat.

“Later,” he says after some time of you languidly squeezing him up and down. “Worry about that later. Hop on the counter.”

You listen wordlessly, pulling yourself up until you’re sat on the edge of the surface. You start with your pants as Seungmin goes to a bag sitting on the floor next to you, where he pulls out a bottle of lube.

The moments slow, or maybe you’re just so focused on your boyfriend, but every move he takes, you register it in anticipation. Even as he fills your space, somehow crowds around you, you can hear the click of the bottle cap,

What doesn’t cross your mind is how closely he’s watching you, as well. Surely, some of it is making sure that he takes care of you, but it’s also just because you can be much more expressive than you are verbal. And it’s so delicious to watch the way your brows twitch when he slides the first finger in, quickly following with the second.

On some other nights, he’d take his time. Maybe you can save that for tomorrow, or when you make it to the bedroom for the night. Right now, however, his thumb is already on your clit, pleasure shooting through your nerves in the best way possible. It’s the type of pleasure that brews underneath the surface, and you can feel the way it bubbles up in your core.

He opens you nice, spreading his fingers inside you while rubbing circles on your bundle of nerves. When he curls his fingers inside, you jerk forward, arms wrapping around his shoulders, fingers carding into his strands and fisting there.

He groans at the way you clench around him, the way you feel so wound up. Should he let you cum now, with his fingers alone?

“Cum, baby. Cum for me,” he whispers into your ear. You nod senselessly, feeling your walls fight to suck him in so you can never let him go.

When your orgasm finally comes, soft whimpers tremble from your open mouth. He removes his fingers slowly, knowing you’re still sensitive.

Slowly, you come to, sensing the world around you. The jazz music still lulls on, quiet sounds of brass and string instruments.

But you don’t want to come down so soon. So you lift your head from where it rests on his shoulder. His gaze is still lustfilled, and your muscles jump, still wanting more.

“Fuck me, please?” It comes out as a question, though you both know it’s a given. One of your hands slither between your bodies, going back to your earlier action of stroking him. He’s already hard, and your mind drifts to the thought of him fucking you.

In that moment you take over, mind still foggy from your orgasm. You fumble for the bottle of lube, unceremoniously putting some on your hand and wrapping it around his cock to slick him up.

With his eyes clenched shut, he rests his forehead against yours, taking a second to breathe before letting you guide him inside, taking him in entirely.

And your body never gets used to him, never gets used to how he seems to encompass you, makes you forget where your body ends and his begins. He must be magical to make you incoherent in this manner.

His thrusts start off slow and hard, almost like he’s savouring the feeling of you around him. And it’s tantalizing, the way his cock feels. Your body just wants to inhale him in any way possible. So you wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him even closer so he can just grind into you. The moan you let out is long and sweet to his ears, makes him want to hear more, taste more.

You kiss as best you can, one hand digging into your waist to keep you steady, while the other makes its way between your bodies.

“Fuck, fuck-” you moan out at the feeling of his fingers rubbing at your clit. It’s painful the way the pleasure gets dragged through you again. But you love it, love the way it confuses your senses to the point that you can’t help but breathe out an airy laugh.

“(Y/N),” groans out Seungmin into your ear. “Shit you feel so good.”

His thrusts become irregular, and soon you find yourself trying to hold off, counting down the breaths until he finally cums, fucking into you so hard that you know you’ll be able to feel him.

And when that happens, your orgasm cums out through the trembles of your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders. He kisses you breathlessly as you both come down, still connected and basking in the moment of you intertwined.

When you pull back, you grin. “Happy Early Birthday,” you say again. You’re sure he’ll hear it a few times this weekend.

He smirks, finally pulling away. It always feels weird at first, to be empty. But he still remains close, and it’s enough.

“Happy, indeed.” His gaze stays on you, searching.

It’s your turn to inquire, “What are you thinking about?”

He gives a heavy sigh, and you ready yourself for some heartfelt words that will sound incredibly cheesy.

“I think I want cake now.”

You shove his chest automatically, giggling just as he does.

“How about we shower first. You never like the feeling of bodily fluids drying on you.”

He turns his nose up. “Why do you have to call them ‘bodily fluids’? That just sounds nasty.”

“Should I just say you need to clean your dick, then?”

Your legs feel like jelly when you slide down from the counter top, but you regain your strength quickly, walking back to the bathroom down the hall. Seungmin follows close behind, complaining about your phrasings.

When he grabs you from behind, your peripheral catches the reflection coming from the window in the bedroom. To feel so free in this way, you know this kind of life you could easily acclimate to. And just as you suspected, this is the plan for the future: to love him as he loves you, to be in your own world with him as everything around you keeps going.

Val’s Note:

Somehow this ended up being perfect timing since our Seungmin’s birthday is coming soon! It seems like the Seungmin smut tag is lacking, and I understand why. He’s normally just this adorable guy, even when he’s not meaning to be. But we’re not about to just fly by him during this era in particular??? Hello????

If you’d like to make a request for the Dean Title Track fic, you can do so, here!

#skz smut #stray kids smut #kim seungmin smut #seungmin smut #stray kids x reader #seungmin x reader #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #seungmin fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #stray kids headcanons

171 notes · View notes

tempestaurora · 4 years ago

Photo

FANDOMS: Marvel, Voltron: Legendary Defender, The 100, Harry Potter, The Raven Cycle, Community, Avatar: The Last Airbender, The Umbrella Academy

NOTES:

i tagged every tumblr i could reasonably find. if you have more than one fic on this list, i have tagged you more than once. some people may be tagged like five times. i’m not sorry.

where relevant, fandoms have been split into general (platonic) centric fics, and romantic/slash fics. this is just because it’s easier than splitting it up into specific relationships.

at the end of every fic title/author line is a list of core relationships; fics are split between gen and romance depending on what relationship is considered centric. otherwise, fics are in no particular order. All fics are completed unless otherwise specified.

i added a read more because there’s over 100 fics listed here.

anyway, enjoy, thanks for the 3k followers

M A R V E L

gen centric fics

SHORT (0 - 5K)

K.I.D. by blondsak @blondsak | Tony&Peter

summary: “Hi K.I.D. Glad you’re awake. Do you know your primary objective?”

“To always look for ways to remind Mister Stark - that’s you! - that Kindness Isn’t Dead.”

“That’s right, K.I.D. Good job.”

forty miles by peter_stank @peter-stank

summary: the one where Morgan is sick and Tony is in way over his head, so he calls his spiderson for a little bit of help. Tony&Peter

from now on by peterparkr @peterparkrr | Tony&Peter

summary: Peter’s sure that Tony and Pepper’s wedding will change everything.

Machine Wash Hot; Tumble Dry Low by alice_in_ink | Tony&Peter

summary: Do you ever fall into sewers and then need your billionaire mentor to wash your super-suit? Peter Parker does too.

Captain That by maddo | Tony&Peter

summary: Just a bunch of little anecdotes regarding our favourite spider and his Instagram account, feat. a meme-tastic Tony Stark.

Here's to all the new beginnings by Gruoch @groo-ock | Tony&Peter

summary: Peter gets a job. Tony is less than pleased.

to know, to protecc, and to fuck with by peterstank and floweryfran @peter-stank @floweryfran | Tony&Peter, Natasha&Peter, Sam/May

summary: peter parker convinces the responsible adults in his life to join him on the world’s stupidest stake-out.

MEDIUM (5 - 20K)

i used to have nothing and then by dirgewithoutmusic @ink-splotch | Clint&Natasha

summary: “Clint,” Natasha said. “You’ve got to let me go.”

“Clint,” she said, and he let her go.

the hearth by sagemb | Tony&Peter

summary: What to Do When Your Wife Is Out of the Country: A Guide by Tony Stark

1) Gain partial custody of a child 2) Sleep on the couch 3) Have the child gain partial custody of you.

Love in Ones and Zeroes by forensicleaf @forensicleaf | Tony&Peter

summary: a boy, a bot, and a bond through the years. Tony&DUM-E

call you home SERIES by Madelinedear | May&Tony, Tony&Peter

summary: sometimes family is who you're born with. and sometimes family is a spider boy, a rich not-dad, and a kickass aunt. (or; tony, may, and peter find a place in each other's lives)

Not-Uncle Tony by Jen27ny @jen27ny | Tony&Peter, Happy&Peter

summary: Happy is Peter's biological father, and Tony is there for the entire ride.

Between how it is and how it should be by frostysunflowers @frostysunflowers | Peter&Bucky, Tony&Peter, Steve&Bucky

summary: ''Doesn’t Captain Rogers ever…wonder,'' Peter winced as he fumbled for the right word, ''where you are?''

Bucky smirked. ''Steve’s a regular mother hen. Used to be me that worried about him.'' He gave Peter a pointed look. ''Better question is, isn’t Stark wondering where you are?''

The Unfortune Teller by peterparkr @peterparkrr | Tony&Peter

summary: A woman in a carnival booth predicts Peter's death.

all the things yet to come (are the things that have passed) by peterparkr @peterparkrr | Peter&Morgan, Tony&Peter

summary: The first time Peter sees Morgan is at the funeral.

tony and peggy’s big day out! by floweryfran @floweryfran | Tony&Peggy

summary: “What’s happened this time?”

“Just a bombing,” says Peggy.

“At three in the afternoon?” says Jarvis. “Frankly, how rude.”

Blips on the Record by ambivalentangst @ambivalentmarvel | Flash&Peter, Tony&Peter

summary: Flash Thompson’s story is not simple, Peter Parker can always use someone else in his corner, and secrets are had and protected by all.

aiding and abetting: a peter parker saga by floweryfran and peterstank @floweryfran @peter-stank | Peter&Avengers

summary: 5 times peter parker runs into the rogues separately + the 1 time they work together as a team.

Tennessee Outreach for Spider-Man (and friends) by ciaconnaa @ciaconnaa | Harley&Peter, Harley&Tony

summary: in an attempt to help Harley beef up his college apps, Tony offers Harley a remote Stark Industries internship to help Spider-Man. It easily becomes his worst nightmare.

Allston Christmas by Gruoch @groo-ock | Tony&Peter, Tony&Peter&Rhodey

summary: “You guys didn’t have to do this,” Peter says from where he sits squeezed into the middle seat of the U-Haul, sweat running down his back. The air-conditioning in the truck they’ve rented is broken, and even with the windows rolled down it’s hellishly hot inside.

“We wanted to,” Tony replies as he blasts the horn at a minivan with a “Harvard Mom” bumper sticker that is attempting to cut into his lane.

so happy together by floweryfran @floweryfran | Tony&Ben

summary: ben parker calling tony stark a twink for 13k words

LONG (20K+)

An Unofficial Introduction to the Avengers SERIES by Isnt_it_pretty_to_think_so @isnt-it-pretty-to-think-so-tr | Tony&Peter

summary: The Avengers meet Spiderman via the online world, and then meet Peter Parker in Stark's living room. It takes them longer than it should to put two-and-two together.

what is and will be (is you and me) by momentofmemory @momentofmemory | May&Peter

summary: 5 times May was there for Peter, +1 time he was there for her.

dear mr. fantasy by iron_spider @iron--spider | Tony&Peter

summary: He grits his teeth and turns around, and before he can even begin to trudge over towards Peter’s room, he’s stopped in his tracks. By a door. In the middle. Of the living room.

“Well that’s new,” he says, still rooted to the spot.

timshel SERIES by justanotherblond @blondieewritess | Bucky&Peter, Steve/Bucky

summary: The soldier doesn’t remember his son’s birth or how he came to be. He doesn’t remember bedding a woman and watching her belly swell, but they said the boy was his. He does know that he will protect and teach the boy within the confines of their cell walls. Even when the handlers berate him. Even when the good guys take him away.

odd couple buddies SERIES by bysine | Peter&Bucky, Sam&Thor, Tony&Peter

summary: "You know you're not supposed to call him the Winter Soldier any more, right?" Peter says, while they handcuff him to a pipe. A pipe. "Also this whole thing is kind of messing up my schedule. My two overdue papers won't exactly write themselves."

i understand (i’m a liability) by floweryfran @floweryfran | Harley&Tony, Harley&Peter

summary: “I… am not being challenged in the right ways here,” Harley says slowly, carefully.

“Then move here,” Tony says, and Harley’s heart drops straight into his feet.

Roundabout by Gruoch @groo-ock | Tony&Peter

summary: In which Peter attempts to survive long enough to graduate, Tony moonlights as a semi-professional party planner, and absolutely nothing goes according to plan.

Uncle Steve's Fix-it Freelance Gig (and friends) SERIES by whowhotellsyourstory | Steve&Morgan, Tony&Steve, Bucky&Peter

summary: "You ever need help, and I'm not there-""Why wouldn't you be there?""You call Uncle Steve."

notes: probably my favourite post endgame fix it fic/series in existence

Dumpster Fires Verse SERIES by deniigiq @deniigi | Peter&Wade&Matt

summary: A collection of Team Red stories because they are all hot messes. Except Peter. Two-Thirds of them are hot messes.

Impression, Sunrise by ciaconnaa @ciaconnaa | Peter&Morgan

summary: In Peter Parker's eyes, Morgan Stark is a lot of things: a terrible pancake chef, a top notch negotiator, the world's cutest six-year old. But above all, she is his family. He hopes he's enough.

The Room Where It Happens by notapartytrick @notaparty-trick | Tony&Peter

summary: At 7:36 pm on the 12th of May 2016, Tony Stark is put in the Room.

A twelve-by-twelve-foot shed, soundproofed, double locked. It becomes his home. It has to be, because there’s nowhere else.

At 4:22 pm on the 15th of June 2017, Peter Parker is put in the Room.

They make a living under duress, fearing at every moment the entry of their captor. Confinement halts their lives in their tracks, changes them both for good: breaks them and brings them together simultaneously.

“If someone has everything they need, but nobody, do they have everything? Or nothing?”

romance centric fics

SHORT (0 - 5K)

written in the star(war)s by ciaconnaa @ciaconnaa | Peter/Michelle

summary: Michelle looks at the nurse one more time, and despite the evidence, asks, “Are you sure it’s twins?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” the nurse points them out again. “One boy, and one girl. Due...May 4th.”

It only takes Michelle 2.3 seconds to realize the horror of that sentence.

Steve Rogers is (Not) A Good Influence by stevergrsno @stevergrsno | Steve/Bucky, Steve&Peter

summary: Steve Rogers' American Tour Of Waiting For His Brainwashed Boyfriend To Come Back And Blowing Up Hydra is interrupted when Tony Stark dumps Peter Parker into his lap.

Captain ‘Socialist Rage Muffin’ America by mybrotherharry @baffledkingcomposinghallelujah | Steve/Tony, Steve/Tony/Bucky

summary: It takes three months of dating Steve Rogers for Tony to understand why Aunt Peggy once shot at him in sheer frustration.Alternately titled, Honey, I committed treason again.

Soft Spot for the Hell Raisin' Boy by ifeelbetter @ifeelbetterer | Steve/Bucky

summary: The Winter Soldier takes an interest in Sam Wilson. Bucky Barnes wants to tell him how to be Steve Rogers's best friend.

Cat’s Cradle by Traincat @traincat | Peter/Felicia

summary: The test was positive.

Felicia tilted it idly this way and that, sitting on the bathroom floor with her back against the cupboard. The floors and the counter tops were marble, and the shower door was glass. Every one of Felicia’s moves seemed to echo in the large room, even though she knew that she was making no sound.

The test was positive. She didn’t bother to check the box to make sure she’d gotten the little symbols right. She’d known before she took it.

“Well,” she breathed out, tilting her head back to inspect the ceiling. “Damn, Spider.”

MEDIUM (5 - 20K)

cross this river to the other side by defcontwo | Steve/Bucky

summary: In 1943, the Howling Commandos wrote goodbye letters to be given to their loved ones in the event of their deaths.In 2014, Sharon Carter finds those letters in a tin can in an abandoned HYDRA base.

Tony Stark Googled The Thing by mybrotherharry @baffledkingcomposinghallelujah | Tony/Pepper, Tony&Peter

summary: When Morgan is six months old, Pepper goes back to work and Tony takes over as stay-at-home dad. Discovering the mommyblogosphere is the inevitable next step.

Winter Soldier Program by NocturneByChopin | Steve/Bucky

summary: Here’s the thing: he’s got a bit of a secret. It involves a boy that went and became famous when Steve wasn’t looking.

i was found and now i don't roam these streets by hipsterchrist | Steve/Bucky

summary: Bucky relearns himself and how to be on a team, the rest of the Avengers try to get answers, and everyone watches too much Criminal Minds.

Between a Rock and a Hard Place by ciaconnaa @ciaconnaa | Michelle/Peter, Michelle&Happy, Tony&Peter

summary: Ever since her mother died a few years back, Michelle's relationship with her father became strained in their grief. One night, after she's forced to show up at Peter's covered in bruises and in need of stitches, she remembers that even the most unsuspecting dormant volcanoes can erupt.

Brooklyn by togina @toli-a | Steve/Bucky

summary: "Captain America, what's your stance on gay marriage?"

Everyone knows that, by now. Everyone but Bucky.

Steve Rogers at 100: Celebrating Captain America on Film by eleveninches, febricant, hellotailor, M_Leigh, neenya, tigrrmilk | Steve/Bucky

summary: Steve and Bucky find out Hollywood has been busy since they went away. A historical survey, including but not limited to: one set of exploded genitals, a brief interlude in France, Mel Gibson and other masterworks of casting, eight Academy awards, several dinosaurs, and something Tony Stark has ominously dubbed “the masterpiece.” Art included.

Project: Get Bucky Barnes a Dog by ruxian | Steve/Bucky

summary: Bucky Barnes does not have a dog. Bucky Barnes does not want a dog. Sam thinks that should change. Bucky does not agree.

On My Radar by sprinkle_of_cinnamon | Steve/Bucky

summary: The Winter Soldier first noticed it when he was on the helicarrier.

The blonde’s shoulders were broad, incredibly broad.

They stretched the blue uniform in a wide span, drawing down to a narrow waist. It was a distinctly triangular silhouette. It was entirely improbable. And somehow it was strangely familiar.

The Winter Soldier raised his gun and fired. He didn’t have time for distractions, or Steve Rogers’ shoulders.

LONG (20k+)

despite the threatening sky and shuddering earth (they remained) by praximeter @praximeter | Steve/Bucky

summary: “Those are pins,” Steve realized. He looked over at Hill. “The mask—it’s nailed to his face.”

notes: may i say a massive fucking HOLY SHIT??????????? incredible. iconic. life-changing.

United States v. Barnes, 617 F. Supp. 2d 143 (D.D.C. 2015) by fallingvoices and radialarch | Steve/Bucky

summary: The Associated Press @AP Winter Soldier set to stand trial for Washington D.C. massacre and treason apne.ws/1og6SWE

Bucky Barnes: Former Disney Channel Star SERIES by mambo @whtaft | Steve/Bucky

summary: "The question the entertainment world is asking themselves today is... Who is Steve? Hollywood superstar Bucky Barnes was spotted at a wrap-party last night, serenading someone named Steve onstage.”

Not Easy Conquered SERIES by dropdeaddream and WhatAre Fears | Steve/Bucky

summary: In 1945, Steve Rogers jumps from a nosediving plane and swims through miles of Arctic Ocean to a frozen shore.

In 1947, Steve Rogers marries Peggy Carter.

In 1966, the New York Times finds the lost letters of Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.

notes: if you’ve read stucky, you’ve read this series. i know this. just like i know that its the most GODDAMN BEAUTIFUL series ever written. no topping it. it’s number 1.

Strays by snarklyboojum @snarklyboojum | Steve/Bucky

summary: After finding himself alone for the first time in decades, the Winter Soldier learns how to be a person again. Mostly through caring for an orphaned kitten, countless rounds of YouTube roulette, and stalking Captain America.

hold me until we crumble by queenklu @queenklu | Steve/Bucky

summary: “Sam told me you were watching Antiques Roadshow,” Natasha says, shaking out her hair. “I assumed it was a national emergency.”

notes: one of my favourite standalone fics i’ve ever read

half awake in a fake empire SERIES by idrilka | Steve/Bucky

summary: In the aftermath of Steve's return to the world of the living and the battle of New York, the academia and the Internet react.

by the river potomac i sat down and wept by peterstank @peter-stank | Steve/Bucky

summary: bucky barnes atones.

Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell SERIES by AnnaFugazzi | Steve/Bucky

summary: Captain America and Bucky Barnes were like brothers. Everyone knew that.

Out of the Dead Land by orphaned account | Steve/Bucky

summary: Someone is building machines that look and act like people.

Meanwhile, the Winter Soldier tries to be Bucky Barnes.

V O L T R O N: L E G E N D A R Y D E F E N D E R

romance centric fics

MEDIUM (5 - 20K)

called out your name (but it was too late) by arahir @arahir | James/Keith, Shiro/Keith

summary: An old classmate watches Keith fall in love with someone else.

so much for the after party by arahir @arahir | Shiro/Keith

summary: Shiro gets his groove back.

i breathe disaster by arahir @arahir | Shiro/Keith

summary: After the wedding, Keith leaves Earth in search of something he can keep.

notes: what doES THIS M E AN?!!!??!!?!?! i cried over this ending. i cr i e d. actual real tears. it was so upsetting somehow. and i am so confused. and i went and found the author’s imagined ending in the comments to help understand the open one and it just made me SADDER. i think this is one of those fics that tries to teach me to read the tags and back away at the word “angst”. anyway, excellent, everything i’ve read from this author was incredible

LONG (20K+)

Alien Sex Fiend by Glossolalia | Shiro/Keith | WIP

summary: It started at a drive-in in the 1980s. Unfortunately, this is a love story; a love story about the frontman of Quantum Queef, a punk band, and a boy who rides a red motorcycle. Also, they fight aliens.

notes: i’m OBSESSED with this fic. i have read it many times. shiro as a punk singer of a band called Quantum Queef????????? and the fact that it’s the only fic on this account???? absolute POWER MOVE.

T H E 1 0 0

romance centric fics

SHORT (0 - 5K)

golden gunned girls by littlearrows | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: They’re not good girls. They have no reason to be.

notes: i think about this fic approximately twice a week despite reading it five years ago. there’s a song called gold gun girls by metric that makes me absolutely feral and would be the dream theme song for the intro sequence of the girl gang tv show of my dreams

and then my soul saw you by synchronicities | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: Lexa tells Clarke that love within the cluster is the worst kind of narcissism. Bellamy begs to differ. Sense8 AU.

givers prove unkind by emullz | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: a modern au in which bellamy is in a band, he writes an album about clarke, and she is his ophelia. also, marriage.

she sounds like sex on the radio by lecornergirl | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: “Wait, hold on,” Clarke says. “Are you suggesting I—in the booth?” But her tone is a lot sterner than she feels. Against her better judgement, she’s into it.

notes: idk what to tell you. i have only bookmarked like three smut fics in my life. it deserves it ok.

the kids aren’t alright by opensummer | Multiple Relationships

summary: The Pacific Rim fusion seven ways.

notes: probably???? my favourite? pacific rim au? i’ve ever read??? does so much with so little

Haven’t You Heard? The World is Coming To An End by Jenye @likcoln-blog | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: So where would you rather die? Here or in Jaeger? Pacific Rim AU.

MEDIUM (5 - 20K)

three points (where two lines meet) SERIES by PinkCanary | Bellamy/Clarke/Raven

summary: Clarke wears the two names on her skin like a badge of honour.

Icarus Lives by karusarchive @cluelesskaru | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: No one could ever have predicted the kaiju were coming. Clarke Griffin was in need of a new Co-Pilot. Bellamy Blake had just graduated. You can guess how that goes.

notes: if anyone knows me at all, they know i’m a MASSIVE pacific rim fan. like, own all the books and graphic novels and have multiple pacrim t-shirts kind of fan. THIS FIC was my first experience with that franchise. my first ever. i watched the movie BECAUSE of this fic.

Pony Regrets SERIES by Chash @ponyregrets | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: Octavia drags Bellamy to a My Little Pony tournament. Bellamy is deeply upset about the whole thing, but then the girl running the tournament is really cute.

The Internet Is Forever SERIES by Chash @ponyregrets | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: Apparently, the internet has been shipping Bellamy Blake (of Team Arkade) and Clarke Griffin (of Craven Cosplay). No one told Bellamy about it.

Nothing Like Old Times by LayALioness @filmnoirsbian | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: “Clarke killed some guy and stuffed him in the trunk,” Jasper says delightedly. “Your cousin’s dark, dude.”

“Yeah,” Bellamy nods, trying to backtrack. Sometimes he wishes she was actually better at making things up. “She’s a…closeted Goth.” Terminator AU.

the feel-good hit of the summer by disco_vendetta @errorofyourways | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake are sleeping together. (aka ROCK BAND AU)

notes: i think about this fic an OBSCENE amount. it’s been five years since i first read it.

LONG (20K+)

Your Mess Is Mine by monroeslittle @argyledpenguin | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: modern AU, Clarke grows up with Octavia, and Octavia's brother.

notes: the fic that got me into fan fic in the first place. top tier. 42k.

Love Will Come Through by monroeslittle @argyledpenguin | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: AU. Clarke winds up in an arranged marriage with Bellamy.

Neeeeeeeeeerds by Chash @ponyregrets | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: Clarke joins the Junior Classical League for two reasons: to appease her mother and to annoy Bellamy Blake.

Our Time Now SERIES by TazmainianDevil | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: The Ark may have been short on all resources vital to sustaining life but one thing they never ran out of was guns.On an Ark that has always been defined by violence, Jake Griffin manages to save his daughter's life and Clarke joins a gang to change the world.

Disney Channel You by Chash @ponyregrets | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: Bellamy only goes to the open casting for Clarke Griffin's new Disney Channel show because Octavia begs him. He never thought he'd actually get the stupid part.

And You Understand Now Why They Lost Their Minds and Fought the Wars by marauders_groupie @marauders-groupie | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: Clarke doesn’t understand why they say that soulmates are one soul in two bodies. Her soul has five other bodies and she would give her life for any of them. Sense8 AU.

notes: probably my favourite sense8 AU i’ve ever read?? and i have read Many

build this fire higher, higher toward the sky SERIES by adelicatepeach | Bellamy/Clarke

summary: Clarke's jaeger goes down on a Thursday. Pacific Rim AU.

H A R R Y P O T T E R

gen centric fic

LONG (20K+)

yer a wizard, dudley by dirgewithoutmusic @ink-splotch | Dudley&A Lot of People

summary: Minerva fished in her pocket without looking, because the only things allowed in her pockets were only ever exactly what she needed. “I've come to deliver this,” she said, “because Hogwarts by-laws require a professor to hand-deliver acceptance letters to Muggleborn families for their explanation and comfort."

notes: i have only ever cared about two harry potter fics in my life. this is one of them.

the family evans by dirgewithoutmusic @ink-splotch | Petunia&A Lot of People

summary: What if, when Petunia Dursley found a little boy on her front doorstep, she took him in? Not into the cupboard under the stairs, not into a twisted childhood of tarnished worth and neglect—what if she took him in?

notes: this is the other one

T H E R A V E N C Y C L E

gen centric fic

MEDIUM (5 - 20K)

Helter Skelter by Anonymous | Ronan&Blue

summary: In hindsight, a road trip with your step-brother and his best friends in Gansey's dying Pig is not an ideal way to start summer break. Sargent-Lynch siblings AU.

meet hennessy by izzylizardborn @gaybluesargent | Hennessy&Jordan

summary: Hennessy had seen movies. She knew how this went. When it came to clones, there was always a good one and an evil one. She didn’t need to wonder which was which.

life is not a movie, maybe by coyotesuspect | Ronan&Blue

summary: Ronan gets kicked out of Aglionby and enrolls at Mountain View High for his senior year. The only problem is, no one remembers to tell Blue.

Honeymoon by vexmybones | Ronan&Blue

summary: Blue and Ronan living together, no buffers, no bullshit, this is how they cope.

the bugs and alphabet by Pi @rhea314 | Ronan&Blue

summary: In which Blue babysits Chainsaw, Ronan & Blue make angry art projects, and some conversations are almost had.

romance centric fic

SHORT (0 - 5K)

Pretty Good, Right? by suddensingularity | Ronan/Blue

summary: Blue wants to have sex before her true love dies. Ronan helps out. Ronan/Blue

notes: yeah ok this is one of the three smut fics i’ve bookmarked its fun ok

MEDIUM (5 - 20K)

It Had To Be You by shinealightonme @toast-the-unknowing | Ronan/Adam

summary: Ronan hates basically everything about their business, or that's what he tells Blue, but the worst part is that he's constantly meeting cute guys and none of them are single.

darling, don’t make such a drama by shinealightonme @toast-the-unknowing | Ronan/Adam, Ronan&Henry, Ronan&Declan

summary: "Straight answers are boring," Cheng says, "and yes I do mean that for all values of straight. I do not need Ronan to share his tragic backstory, I would much rather deduce it on my own."

"Who says I have a tragic backstory?"

"With your fearsome glower and troubled good looks? If you did not have a tragic backstory it would be a waste."

C O M M U N I T Y

romance centric fic

LONG (20k+)

Playing House by itsactuallycorrine @itsactuallycorrine | Jeff&Annie

summary: Six years ago, Jeff let Annie go. She never returned to Greendale, and he moved on. Now, he's a single dad to a one-year-old and he needs her help.

A V A T A R: T H E L A S T A I R B E N D E R

gen centric fic

SHORT (0 - 5K)

call it dreaming by ciaconnaa @ciaconnaa | Toph&Gaang

After the war, Toph has nightmares. The screeching of metal, Sokka and Suki's screams, the snap of Sokka's leg as it broke from their fall. It's usually his confession that they aren't going to make it that makes her wake up in a cold sweat. She's anxious all the time now, unable to find peaceful sleep.

The cure is apparently to try and hold all of her friends hands for all hours of the days and hope that they're cool with it.

what’s in a name by ciaconnaa @ciaconnaa | Toph&Sokka

summary: At her request, Sokka teaches Toph to write her name.

He learns a thing or two about the weight his own name holds in the process.

MEDIUM (5 - 20K)

the beginning of a new and brighter birth by aloneintherain @captainkirkk | Zuko&Gaang

summary: “I’m so proud of you, my nephew.” Uncle cups Zuko’s face in his lined hand. The gesture is so tender, his palm so warm, that Zuko has to take a fortifying breath against the sudden swell of emotion in his chest.

“I want to be a good leader, Uncle,” Zuko says. “I want to look after my people.”

“You will,” Uncle says. “You are, nephew.”

In a new era of peace, Zuko works to be a very different Fire Lord than his forefathers.

the scope of blindness series by littlelionlady @thelittlelionlady | Toph&Gaang

summary: There are just some things that Toph's feet can't see.

Her hands can though.

Or, Toph learns what her friends look like by tracing their faces.

notes: geniunely how goddamn beautiful is this. like. i cried. this is so soft and so cute and it made me feel SO MANY things

All The Gentle Creatures by Haircrescendo @sword-and-stars | Iroh&Zuko

It’s said that you can tell a lot about a person by how they treat animals. Zuko may be loud and stubborn and sharp but all the woodland creatures love him.

LONG (20K+)

The Family You Choose by TunaFishChris | Zuko&Gaang

summary: Some people are born with soulmarks. Zuko has them, but his grandfather burned them off because they "make you weak."

Team Avatar has a few things to say about that.

such selfish prayers by andromeda3116 @andromeda3116 | Katara&The Fire Nation, Katara/Zuko

Katara's ambition, so long set aside for the good of others, breaks free and sets fire to her soul. Or, Katara has a vision of her canon future, casts it aside, and becomes a world-changing politician instead.

and love will be your teacher SERIES by Ford_Ye_Fiji @ford-ye-fiji | Iroh&Zuko

summary: "And you will know the pain of losing a firstborn son." Ozai loses Zuko. Iroh gains a son. And the future changes.

notes: excellent excellent excellent excellent makes me very happy indeed

romance centric fic

SHORT (0 - 5K)

on commitment by jdphoenix | Zuko/Katara

summary: “Just explain it to me again.”

“There is no way you can pass as my brother and we are way too conspicuous as two unrelated people, from different nations, traveling together. So we’re pretending to be married.”

we hold our hearts in silence by psychedelic_aya | Zuko/Katara

summary: Seventy years later, Korra tries to figure out Zuko and Katara.

oracle bones by orphaned account | Zuko/Katara

summary: The foreign, pictorial characters that bracelet Zuko's left wrist have never been covered in any of his lessons. He cannot read them. And then he turns thirteen, and his father burns his wrist along with his face.

MEDIUM (5 - 20K)

late nights/early mornings SERIES by shmulia @shmuliawrites | Zuko/Katara

summary: Whoever set off the fire alarm at 2 in the morning is on Katara’s shit list. Even if he is hot and shirtless.

the thing about dancing by anodymalion | Sokka/Zuko

summary: The first time a attendant spills Zuko’s tea and doesn’t immediately fall to her knees, begging the Fire Lord’s forgiveness, it is not anger but a resounding warmth that fills his chest.

LONG (20K+)

Fate Deferred by catie_writes_things @catie-does-things | Zuko/Katara | WIP

summary: Aang remains in the iceberg ten years longer. He awakens to a very different world.

The Sparrowkeet SERIES by audreyii_fic | Zuko/Katara

summary: Ba Sing Se has fallen and Katara has been captured by the Fire Nation; a more adult take on the potential progression of S3. AU series of interconnected one-shots.

notes: i would die for this series, particularly the last instalment. i enjoyed every single fic and it was just such a GOOD STORY.

T H E U M B R E L L A A C A D E M Y

gen centric fic

SHORT (0 - 5K)

you from yesterday by questors (sieges) @softpunks | Five&Siblings

summary: The difference between who his siblings once were versus who they are now.

Ghost Math by pinstripedJackalope | Five&Klaus

summary: Number Five needs a new hobby now that the apocalypse is off. He decides to help Klaus--and in turn maybe he'll help himself.

Then There Was Two by AnneKatherine | Five&Vanya

summary: Reginald Hargeeves finally decides to allow Grace to name the Academy. Unfortunately, he's only willing to let her name the Academy, which Seven is unfortunately not a part of.

[or how Five gave away his name]

(he definitely didn't want one anyway)

i tiresias (have foresuffered all) by ThatWeirdGuyInTheBushes | Five&Siblings, Five/Delores

summary: Five misses sharing his birthday, but Five has missed a lot of things.alternatively; number five, coffee, and the art of taking back.

MEDIUM (5 - 20K)

The Five Vetting Process by jaz_hop | Five&Siblings

summary: In which Five is incredibly invested in the love lives of his siblings, because they're obviously too stupid to choose anyone worthy enough to be their partner. Otherwise known as Five being stupidly over-protective, and incredibly invasive in the hopes of keeping his siblings safe and happy... even if he is being a stalker and a dick about it.

LONG (20K+)

You and I Together Forever SERIES by Ace_of_Spades_400 @ace-of-spades-400 | Vanya&Siblings

summary: What if it hadn't only been Five, what if it hadn't been Five at all?

A series of stories about what would have happened if Vanya had chosen a different sibling.

Sometimes the choice isn't hers.

Timeliness 1-2.1 SERIES by dgalerab | Hargreeves Siblings

summary: As the world ends, Five takes his siblings back into their child bodies on the day he originally left. With the knowledge of how the world ends fresh in their minds, the Hargreeves siblings do what they can to leave clues for their past selves on how to grow up a little less fucked up before returning to the present.

A present where they all have different lives they can't remember, there's a fun new apocalypse on the way, and Reginald Hargreeves remembers the day where all his children suddenly and inexplicably lost their minds and all respect for him at once a little too well.

Rare Birds SERIES by Cryptix23 | Hargreeves Siblings

summary: An alternate 2019 brings with it new problems and new dangers.

The two sets of Hargreeves children mix like water on a greasefire. It's hard to tell which group is unhappier about the situation -- the Sparrows, trying to navigate the minefield of their new siblings' many traumas, or the Umbrellas, trying to carve their place back into a world that forgot them.

Plus the whole saving-the-world thing hanging over them all.

Whether they like it or not, they're going to have to learn to work together.

Partners, Parents, or None of the Above by DarkFairytale | Diego&Klaus

summary: Kenny's mom assuming that Diego and Klaus were A) a couple and B) Number Five’s parents was both bemusing and amusing at the time. But that was because it was the only time it had ever happened. Now though? Now they just can't understand why these misunderstandings keep happening.

#marvel #tua #atla #hp #the 100

119 notes · View notes

unlockthelore · 4 years ago

Text

Recollection

It’s easiest for Hiei to express himself without an audience because there are some things meant for Kurama alone. From the fic Fluent on Ao3. For more updates, follow the fluent yyh tag on this blog.

Hiei resurfaces from foggy thoughts as rustling leaves settle overhead and the forest falls silent. In the distance, shadows cast long and creep away from an orange-yellow glow, voices crowing victory in anecdotes brazenly or softly divulged between brief stints of laughter and playful scuffles. His eyes flutter shut as the Jagan opens. Pale blue hair, an almost odd shade of green in the firelight couple with shuttered crimson eyes crinkling at the corners with quiet cheer. His heart pounds in his chest as she steals a glance over her shoulder, lips moving when her gaze flits to the ferry girl shuffling about after coaxing the panting dirt-covered pair on the other side of the fire to quiet down.

There is someone missing from their group and Hiei found himself painfully aware of the the night’s soundlessness; but he keeps his gaze on her. Worry crowding deep in his chest that if he took his eyes off of her for a second, she would disappear again.

Discontent and anger stokes fire beneath his skin when her shoulders hunch as she shies from the ferry girl’s outstretched hand. While the gesture was friendly, it’s quickly rescinded with a comforting murmur. The detective and oaf quieting when she flinches at their pitched laughter, resolving to talk quietly as they share stories in detail that widens her eyes in disbelief. Hiei curled his fingers to fists, almost feeling a glimmer of thankfulness for the trio. Though they give her space, they sit close enough to her that the shadows stretching long around the enclosure seem less likely to hold some foe who’d steal her away.

The Jagan closes as Hiei’s lips press in a thin line, crimson eyes darting to the cops of trees behind him as a strolling figure steps through. Kurama’s earlier smugness is nowhere to be found yet he slips a hand from his pocket, lips curled in a cheeky smile.

“I wasn’t hiding my energy,” he assures, holding his palm outward. “Yukina would be distressed if I suddenly disappeared, don’t you agree?”

Ignoring the jab at his earlier disappearance, Hiei scoffs, rolling his eyes up to the indifferent star-studded sky. Though Kurama’s gesture was meant to be a show of deference, he knew better. Anywhere with plant life was the fox’s domain, and Hiei was the one at the disadvantage. Yet, if he were honest, he felt safe. Surprisingly so as Kurama walks behind him, daring to pull him close and nuzzle at his ear. A familiar gesture that almost made Hiei’s body seize. Suppressing a shiver, Hiei firmly kept his gaze upon the flickering light even when a knowing hand slips into the fold of his cloak, fingertips cool against his skin.

“It’s fine if you aren’t ready to embrace her yet, Hiei,” Kurama notes, lips brushing against the shell of his ear, simultaneously igniting flames and cooling them in his chest. “You’ve both been through a great deal.”

A part of Hiei, righteous and fettered, almost snaps at Kurama blindly. It desires to push away the searching fingers that seem to map out his body expertly, careening over his heart to soothe, and holding him loosely yet with enough pressure to remind. Another part of him, one uninhibited and daresay gentle, loosens tension in his muscles that’d been wound up for weeks — months — years, in anticipation for this moment. It’s grateful that he isn’t alone. That another chapter in his life hadn’t ended in tragedy.

And that Kurama was there to share the moment with him.

“Your Vow,” Hiei murmurs, tiring of his hands hanging loosely at his sides, his fingers brushing against Kurama’s wrist to still his hand’s movement.

“Fullfilled,” Kurama smiles against the space behind Hiei’s ear. A curse muttered when his teeth catch on the lobe, the press of his body less soothing, lapping closer toward need. “And in a timely manner, thanks to our team.”

Recalling the faint slip of the tongue to cover his own tracks, Hiei scoffed, tipping his head to one side to catch sight of amused green eyes seeming to glow in the forest’s dim. “Don’t read into it.”

“They have potential,” Kurama says in a lilting tone, slipping his hand from Hiei’s cloak, the cool touch sorely missed but quickly remedied when he’s coaxed into turning to face him. A slender finger hooked in the waist of his pants to tug him closer. “Yuusuke, of course. And Kuwabara as well.”

“Hm,” Hiei grumbles, grimacing when he caught the tail end of Kuwabara attempting to regale Yukina with his heroics. A light brush against the corner of his lips drawing his attention back to Kurama, the fox pulling away with a glimmer of amusement and pride.

Not the self-assured glimmer of arrogance when Kurama catches him off guard. Or the look he has when his plans have gone just right, even if the conditions were unexpected. No, this was pride in him. An expression he’d seen often when he pulled something off or completed a task half-expecting to go unnoticed. Little escaped Kurama’s knowledge though. A tidal wave of emotion that’d swept through Hiei once his guard had lowered swelled in his chest.

“Perhaps you could join us by the fire, I know you keep warm yourself, bu—”

Hiei yanked Kurama down by the pristine white of his newly tailored outfit, silencing the carefully worded quip with a firm press of his lips against the fox’s softer pair. Kurama stiffening up then seeming to melt against him, moving to reciprocate when Hiei yanked away from him to hiss out, “Thank you.”

Green eyes shutter, a fine red brow raised, nearly stifling Hiei’s tongue but he hurries on before he can be pulled into Kurama’s allure again or questioned.

“Yukina isn’t comfortable around humans and this freedom is…” The words sour on Hiei’s tongue as he fumbles for them. “She’s afraid, and you bring her comfort, which brings me…”

His skin tingles as if his entire being was charged with something. Anger, yes. He hated those humans who kept his sister imprisoned. No punishment the Reikai could inflict on their souls would ever satisfy him. It would never be reparation for the pain Yukina endured. And if not for their rules, he would’ve beaten that pigheaded whelp to death.

Hiei barely noticed Kurama’s hold on his shoulders, realizing from the fox’s grip that he’d been trembling. Meeting a concerned green gaze, another crack etches deep in the dam withholding the tide.

He wants to explain, tell Kurama how deep his gratitude ran. Appreciation on long nights spent with him searching through records of blacklisted sellers peddling demonic artifacts and persons, right beneath the Reikai’s nose. Dead ends in simpering whelps daring to plead for mercy at his feet while wearing his sister’s pain around their necks and adorned on their walls. Arguments ending in hushed comforting whispers, waiting arms there to comfort him after Hiei dismissed Kurama’s assurances that they will find her. Perhaps not today, or tomorrow, but they would continue looking until they found answers.

Hiei didn’t understand it. There was nothing for Kurama to benefit from in helping him search for Yukina. The original grounds for their partnership were annulled, Kurama no longer needed his strength. He was formidable even in the beginning, likely humoring him out of interest. And if they delved in the Underworld for too long, surely something would come looking for them in return.

Memories could be erased and tracks hidden, but it would only bring Hiei peace to have Yukina safely in his sights or to know of her fate. When asked, Kurama had only given him a genial smile, then later it was joined by a kiss over the Jagan’s lid, both temporarily shattering Hiei’s determination to know the truth. If he could live in this lie that Kurama cared. That he was here for another reason aside from fleeting interest.

Would it be worth being hurt in the end?

He felt that he understood a little more after Kurama held him in the warehouse, shed tears for him when they parted, embraced him when their sentencing was over and all that was left were regrets and new trials to face.

We’ll go together, right, Hiei?

Kurama’s widened eyes were all he saw before a flurry of kisses, some too sharp, fleeting, lingering and light for Hiei to make sense of were dotted in a flurry across smooth cheeks, a rounded nose, the lids of green eyes and soft lips that melded the beginnings of his name.

“Hi—”

“Stop talking,” Hiei hissed, anticipation trilling in his heart at the soft, awed look in Kurama’s eyes when he pulled away. “Think about after.”

Letting him go, Hiei leapt into the trees just shy Kuwabara’s arrival, stumbling out of the brush and grumbling at Kurama. Something about a leak and the fox quickly recovered with a light cough in his fist and a word, smoothing out the wrinkles in his clothes as he ushered the oaf off toward the trail leading to their campsite. Spying through the leaves, Hiei met Kurama’s gaze and fought the urge to smile as the fox gave him a half-grin then turned away.

After had never seemed so hopeful.

#yu yu hakusho #yyh #kurahi #kurama #hiei #fanfiction #my fanfiction #fluent yyh

28 notes · View notes

ginnyzero · 4 years ago

Text

Wolves aren’t Dogs

Wolves aren’t dogs. There’s no other way to put it. And let’s face it, in most books that have anything to do with werewolves, they aren’t wolves either. In fact, fictional werewolves have as much to do with real wolves and wolves have to do with dogs. Fictional werewolves are mostly based on legends such as the loup-garou or are seemingly more out of control men that happen to go big and furry and form into strict hierarchical groups that for some reason hate women and homosexuals.

I wrote my book, the Lone Prospect, and formed my werewolves because I was tired of seeing these same tired, angsty, cursed werewolves that had nothing to do with actual wolves. After researching the different and very diverse origins of werewolves and their types, I started digging into wolves themselves and based my werewolves on actual anecdotal and scientific wolf behavior.

Wolves DO NOT like humans.

Of all the apex predators in the animal kingdom, wolves are the ones that have adapted to our presence the least. Coyotes accept us happily. Bears tolerate us and root in our garbage. Wolves hide out in their forest and are okay with our roads and that’s about it. (In fact, some wolves in Russia like to run up and down the highways for fun scaring all rational human beings as they howl.) As much as humans are afraid of wolves, wolves are equally afraid of humans. Wolves are shy. Like humans, they have a fight or flight instinct and unlike ours, theirs is geared to flight first, fight second. Unless a wolf is sick, they are highly unlikely to attack a human. A sick wolf is like any animal, out of control and looking to defend itself.

Because of this, wolves don’t domesticate. They aren’t pets. And they would prefer to stay as far away from us strange smelling two legged animals as possible. (There are a few exceptions.) If a human wants to interact with a wolf, they have to learn the wolf’s language and be accepted by the wolf. Because the wolf isn’t going to do it the other way around. Even if bred with a domesticated dog, a wolfdog prefers the companionship of their human and their human only and needs several square miles of land to roam about in as their instincts to hunt kick in.

About that.

Wolves are HUNTERS. PERIOD.

In domesticated dogs, we have all types, guard dogs, bird dogs, scent hounds, dogs who like running, deer hounds and big fluffy things that make big pillows. These dogs love us and we love them. Not so with wolves. Wolves do one thing very well. That’s hunt. Wolves are designed to track down and hunt prey in groups. In fact, the prey that they prefer, animals like deer, elk and moose, are much larger than they are and it is very difficult for a singular wolf to take them down alone.

Hunting for wolves is mostly an act of opportunity. They know how the animals in their territory move. They can find where their prey was and track it from there through scent. Then they work together using group tactics to kill the animal. Wolves don’t go and rip out the jugular of their prey. That’s the purview of action and horror movies. Real wolves bleed their prey out by attacking the front and hind end and scratching it until the animal tires and then they go for the belly, not the throat because the belly is where the good meat is. Contrary to popular belief, the largest animal doesn’t eat first either, the hungriest animal does.

Because they are wearing the prey animal down and trying to dodge horns and hooves, the wolves “tag team” their prey. Two or three will attack the animal while the others rest and watch. When one group of wolves is tired and the others are rested they’ll switch out. In fact, it is believed wolves are smart enough to form group attack tactics and remember them. Wolves know that it’s easier to see things from high up than lower down for instance and if there are ridges in their territory will look for their prey from there instead of in the gullies.

Like I said, wolves are smart. They are smart enough to know that once they get old and blind and maybe disabled that the humans also keep the easy meat penned up. Sheep and cattle are easy meat. And owners can ride horses, have fences and keep big dogs that are mean to scare the wolves away and the wolves will still be able to kill the sheep or cattle. Then the humans get angry and take to helicopters and kill the wolves. (Grimace.)

They also tend not to kill unnecessarily. Sure, you hear hunters complain about coming across a mostly uneaten wolf kill in the woods and how horrible it was that the wolf didn’t finish their food. This isn’t true! (In my opinion, the human hunter is jealous!) Wolves, like humans, are a species that actually save their food for later. Except, unlike humans, they don’t have big metal cold boxes to put it in. If the wolves kill something that’s too big to eat and it’s cold out, they’ll let the meat freeze and come back to it later. This is called cold caching.

Cold caching also helps other animals in the food chain from crows, to vultures, to the wandering coyote or even the bear that wakes up in the middle of winter and may need to eat to go back to sleep. This isn’t waste, but nature’s way of taking care of the entire ecosystem.

If I was going to put another shapeshifting species into the Heathens series, it’d be crows. In the wild, crows help wolves find prey and in return, wolves tear apart the bigger animal so that the crows can get smaller bits of meat. Animals can help each other, especially smart ones (like wolves and crows.)

Because their prey animals tend to be much bigger than they are, wolves live in groups that we call packs.

But the funny thing about packs is that wolf packs are actually FAMILIES.

Wolf packs are not in the wild groups of stranger wolves banding together to take down prey. No. Wolf packs are family units, a mother, a father and a bunch of siblings. Unlike dogs, wolves in the wild do not pack up with complete strangers. Dogs will group and form pack bonds with just about everybody, humans, different breeds, dogs they meet in the street. Not wolves. The only places that stranger wolves that aren’t related to each other live together is captivity. And as with most captivity situations, this changes things and is not good for the wolves. Only in captivity do wolves form groups with a strict hierarchy. Only in captivity will wolves kill their own pups. And only in captivity do males enter the den. None of this happens in the wild.

In the wild, wolf packs are wolf families that are all taking care of and learning from each other. There is no alpha, beta or omega. Mom makes the den for the puppies (and once she has them only she’s allowed inside.) Mom and dad teach the youngsters to hunt. And like all good parents, they allow their older children to lead the hunt in order for the older children to learn how. Then, when the older children leave they become “lone wolves” and may travel up to 800 miles in order to find a mate and create a new family group of their own. (And they may have to lure their mate away from their mate's family pack and just like in humans, mom and dad don't like this! They need the youngster to hunt, not leave! They'll make the lone wolf work to get their mate.)

Mom and dad and all the siblings do an equal part of emotional labor in taking care of the family group. Everybody hunts. Everybody takes care of the puppies and everybody plays together. Mom is just as likely to be in charge as dad. In fact, if mom is mean then one of her daughters might kill her and take care of her youngest siblings herself.

While neighboring wolf packs may be in competition with each other, they are also like your friendly neighbors. Mom and dad wolves mark the territory by peeing on it together. The nearer packs do the same, and if food is scarce they may fight each other over it. If food is plentiful, they are friendly neighbors who like to shout at each other long distance by howling or may get together and exchange greetings, shout and have a big old party. “Hey, hey, haven’t seen you in a while, how are you doing? Any interesting smells?” But they don’t ‘hang’ out on a regular basis and they wouldn’t get along in a dog park!

Wolves and dogs may look similar and seemingly act similar. They are two different species that are wired to do extremely different things. By understanding the differences and knowing about them, humans can set aside their fear and figure out how to coexist peacefully. And you know, maybe hide the easy meat or not encroach on their territory by putting their cattle in national parks and keeping a few rams in the sheep flock.

#wolf #wolves #wolf behavior #wolf science

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let-it-raines · 5 years ago

Text

Every Monday Morning (1/1)

Emma Swan likes her routines. She wakes up at four in the morning, goes to work as a host on The Morning Show, spends her day doing segments about cooking and this season’s fashion trends, and then she goes home to spend time with her son and help him with his homework. She’s finally found something stable, and she doesn’t like change.

So when the show’s regular chef retires and is replaced by Killian Jones, it throws Emma for a loop that she doesn’t necessarily like.

At least not at first.

Rating: Teen

a/n: So, I’m a day early as it’s her birthday tomorrow, but I realized today I won’t be able to post tomorrow because of family obligations. I think @searchingwardrobes might be okay with spreading the celebration out a bit!

Happy (almost) Birthday to the birthday queen herself ❤️ You are an absolute gift of a person who spends time writing stories for most everyone on their birthdays, and while I can’t do quite that, I thought I’d write you a little something because you absolutely deserve it! It’s been a joy getting to know you! I hope that you have the best day with your family! 🎉

Thanks @wellhellotragic for helping me figure out what to write about, even if I rejected everything. lol. And also, nonnie, I promise the “read more” is being used, so I’m sorry if it doesn’t work on mobile!

Found on AO3 | Here |

Tag list: @captainsjedi @wellhellotragic @galaxyzxstark @thejollyroger-writer @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @xellewoods @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @a-faekindagirl @ultimiflos @jamif @dreameronarooftop15 @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @superchocovian @ultraluckycatnd @cs-forlife @andiirivera @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64 @mariakov81

-/-

It’s five in the morning, Emma has coffee in her ridiculously oversized mug that Henry gave her for her birthday last year, and she absolutely does not want to be awake right now. She wants to be in her pajamas, and she wants to have to struggle to get out of bed and to have to make Henry breakfast that he’ll take two bites out of before deciding that he doesn’t actually want the pancakes she made. It’s been an obnoxious thing lately, his weird aversion to foods after saying that he wants them, and she’s really going to need him to grow out of that habit.

Kids are freaking weird, and after ten years of motherhood, she still has no idea what she’s doing.

“Stop twitching,” Ruby grumbles.

“I am not twitching.” “You are.” Ruby huffs, and Emma straightens herself in the chair before taking a slow sip of coffee. “It’s not easy to put your eyeliner on, and it’s even more difficult if you keep moving.”

“I am not moving, Rubes,” Emma insists before crossing her leg over her knee only for Ruby to slap it away so that both feet are on the bottom of the chair. “Okay, maybe I am a little bit, but I didn’t get the chance to workout this morning, and I’m feeling all jittery.”

Ruby hums, and Emma tries to relax her eyes so that Ruby can keep working on her makeup without it smearing. “Why not? Did you not sleep well last night?”

“We were up late doing Henry’s homework. I swear, I’m not that old, but some of his stuff I’ve never heard of. The math is killing me. I would never in my life want Neal to come back, but I feel like it would almost be acceptable if he could do this math.” “That bad, huh?”

“That bad.”

“Stop wrinkling your nose.”

“I am not.” “You are,” Ruby laughs as her finger hits the tip of Emma’s nose. “Give me ten more minutes, and then you can get dressed and take a few minutes to eat something and drink your coffee.”

“It’s Monday,” Emma sighs. “It’s Chef Rudianni day. I’m about to eat everything that he cooks when he does his segment.”

Ruby stops the light pressure of the sponge on Emma’s cheek, and she opens her eyes to see that Ruby is staring at her with an apologetic smile. Shit.

“Chef Rudianni retired last week, Ems. We’ve got a new guy, and whew, let me tell you, he’s as hot as the food that he’s going to teach you to make.”

Disappointment settles in Emma’s stomach. Maybe that’s just the lack of food…the lack of Chef Rudianni’s food. “You are shameless and also breaking my heart.” Emma groans and leans back in the chair while crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t care how attractive the new guy is. I wake up at four in the morning every Monday with the hope that I can get food from Rudy. It is literally the only thing that gets me through the day.”

“Being a host on one of the most popular morning shows in America doesn’t do it for you? You work for half a day and then are home in time to spend all afternoon with Henry.”

Emma grunts and waves Ruby away. “Yeah, whatever. You don’t have to rub it in my face that I’m lucky to make me feel bad about it.”

“That’s what friends are for, my darling. Now, arch your left brow. I need to fix that little stray.”

Ruby keeps prodding and plucking and doing everything that she does every morning to make Emma look camera ready and not like she’s waiting to die from lack of sleep, and while it’s usually Emma’s time to relax, she doesn’t get much of that when her producers come in and run her through this morning’s program. Emma never does any “real” news, which is perfectly okay with her. There’s enough darkness in the world that she doesn’t want to have to extensively deal with that while at work. Instead, she spends her mornings talking to people who run their first marathons at the age of sixty, tries on different outfits for each of the seasonal trends, and gets to pretend that she knows how to cook as she does cooking segments.

Chef Rudianni made it easy for her to pretend that she had something more than basic cooking skills, even if he did very obviously make fun of her off the screen, but she never cared about that because the food was that good.

She’s not entirely sure about this new guy, and she hasn’t even met him yet. He better be able to cook pie for Thanksgiving. That’s what’s she’s going to miss the most.

(Emma is obviously very hungry right now, and she’s not even technically supposed to eat that much of the food.)

“You look happy this morning,” David teases her as she settles down at her chair behind the desk.

“It’s Monday, and I’m tired.”

“Working on a morning news show was not your calling.”

Emma rolls her eyes and twists in the chair as Mary Margaret, the second half of the power couple of The Morning Show, sits down in her chair next to David, and Will Scarlet, their weather and sports guy, sits opposite of her. They’ve got maybe ten different hosts total, especially since this show lasts for five hours, but the four of them have been the main four for the last three years. It’s nice, even if their personalities can clash, but Emma likes to think that’s what makes it interesting. Mary Margaret and David are both so full of hope and happiness, and the energy radiating from the two of them make it easier for she and Will to be a little more optimistic about things.

(There was once an incident with Will laughing at a story about a woman who made her living making sweaters for dogs, and they had a month-long sensitivity training session afterward. That also may be why they are all unwaveringly positive on-air.)

Emma hums and reaches forward to grab her coffee cup, wishing and willing that the caffeine will help her make it through the day. “I think I was meant to be, like, a late-night host or something, but then I couldn’t get away with wearing slippers underneath the desk and would have to be funny all the time.”

“Does it hurt to wear heels even while you’re sitting?” Will asks.

“Why don’t you try it one day, Scarlet? I’ve got someone coming in tomorrow to show the fall color trends for shoes. I’m sure she could give you a pair to try on. You’ll look great delivering the news in some plum pumps.”

“I’d do it. You know that.”

“We’re live in thirty seconds,” their producers call out, and each of them turn from each other back to face the camera, coffee mugs put down and hair adjusted with perfectly white smiles etched across their faces.

Three.

Two.

One.

“Good morning, America,” David begins.

“And welcome to The Morning Show,” Mary Margaret finishes.

And thus they begin.

The first ten or so minutes is spent with David and Mary Margaret reading off little snippets of news before connecting it to their personal lives, talking about their kids and their relationship before throwing it off to Will and Emma and to banter back and forth. Emma never talks about Henry on-air. His existence isn’t something she shares with the world, mostly because she doesn’t want Neal suddenly popping back in realizing that he has a son. He would definitely try to take advantage of her again and use her job and Henry as some way to advance his life, and Emma isn’t here for that. So, she plays the part of a single twenty-eight-year-old woman and never shares anecdotes over her life at home. At least not ones that involve Henry.

Soon they all branch off into their different jobs and topics. Emma and Will both leave the main table so that Will can do the weather and Emma can set up to interview a college student who is taking Krispy Kreme donuts and putting his own spin on them, and like every morning, time flies by in a mess of interviews and segments and talking to all of the people who are both crazy and awesome enough to stand outside their studio window just to get a chance to see where they film.

It’s an insane life, one Emma most definitely stumbled into it, but she loves it.

Until she walks over to the fake kitchen they have on set and sees the new guy setting up whatever it is he’s cooking today. Emma stops in her tracks, the heels she put back on scratching against the linoleum floor, and she has to take a moment to collect herself. Ruby wasn’t wrong when she said that the new chef was attractive. He obviously is. Even from here she can see the sharp line of his jaw covered with scruff that’s a shade or two lighter than the black of his hair, and his eyes are so blue that Emma is almost positive they’re contacts. It’s ridiculous. He’s tall, but not outrageously so, and she can see the muscles in his forearms and biceps under the t-shirt that he has on.

Guys who look like that always know that they do, indeed, look like they do, and it’s never good news. They think they’re a gift to women world-wide, and Emma prepares herself for him to be the same way, especially with the way that he’s obviously flirting with one of their production assistants, Tink.

Why in the world did Chef Rudianni have to retire? She’s going to miss him and his sweet elderly man ways where he thought of her more like a granddaughter than anything else.

Taking a deep breath and reminding herself that she’s a professional, Emma walks toward the cooking set, grabs her apron off the hook, ties it around her, and walks up to the guy to introduce herself. He’s a once-a-week segment for four minutes, and it really won’t be that bad. It can’t be.

(Emma hates change.)

“Oh.” Tink jumps when she sees Emma, pink rising on her cheeks, “Mr. Jones, I’d like you to meet Emma Swan.”

The guy’s shoulders tense before he turns around, and Emma’s eyes are immediately hit by the blue, which is even more insane closer up. So is the brightness of the smile that seems to stretch all the way up to his eyes.

He better be a damn good cook.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, love,” he drawls out, the thickness of his British accent curling around his tongue. “Killian Jones, at your service.”

Emma forces a smile and nods her head as she reaches forward to shake his hand. “Emma Swan. Welcome to The Morning Show.”

“I’m glad to be here. Any tips for my time here? Who likes to steal food off the table? Anyone absolutely hate any certain kind of food? Anyone I should avoid?”

Emma releases his hand and cocks her head to the side, trying to size him up. “Just cook the food and smile for the camera when you’re supposed to, and you’ll be fine. Oh, and don’t expect me to be a good assistant. I’m not at all a chef. I faked it.”

He winks, and Emma has to grit her teeth. This guy is obviously a natural flirt. “That’s because you haven’t cooked with me yet.”

-/-

Killian Jones is even more charming on-camera then he is off of it. She has no idea what kind of television work he’s done in the past, if he’s done any at all, and he is every bit the natural at working the camera and the crowd as he takes her through the steps to make an absolutely fantastic end of the summer barbeque for the end of July that has her having to wipe barbeque sauce off her fingers in the middle of the segment. It’s also got everyone else coming over to check out the food, something that almost never happens, and Emma isn’t entirely sure how she feels about any of it.

It’s good for the show, at least. She knows that. She’ll simply have to get used to a little change every Monday morning.

-/-

“Mom,” Henry moans as he flops down on the couch, “I am starving. What’s for dinner?”

Emma shrugs her shoulders and gets up from her favorite chair in the living room to walk the few feet to the kitchen and the fridge. When she opens it, there’s barely anything inside. It’s half a gallon of milk, some cheese sticks, a bag of carrots, and then leftover lasagna Mary Margaret gave them a week ago. Emma needs to go grocery shopping, but she hasn’t had the chance recently. It’s been a crazy few weeks with work, the month of August and half of September flying by, and grocery shopping has been at the bottom of her list of things to do.

Mom of the year award, honestly. She needs to bite the bullet and pay the surcharge to have her groceries delivered, but the frugalness of growing up in the foster system has never really gone away when it comes to things like that. Expensive shoes? Sure, she can spend a few hundred dollars on that. Paying twenty dollars for a delivery fee? No, absolutely not.

Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, Emma looks at the complete lack of food in the fridge and decides that eating here is not an option. And she cannot eat takeout Chinese food or pizza again this week. That is not an option her stomach will agree with.

(She is making a change when it comes to their eating habits tomorrow. She swears.)

“How about we go out for dinner, kid?”

Henry sits up from the couch and puts his phone down, which is pretty much a miracle since this is the time that he’s allowed to use it, and he looks so much like Neal in this moment that her heart pangs. Or maybe that’s the consistent amount of junk food. She doesn’t really know.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, why not? It’s Friday night, and it’s not like we have anything better to do.”

“I mean, you don’t have anything better to do. I was going to play my game with Avery.” Emma narrows her eyes at him, and Henry holds up his hands in apology. “Sorry, sorry. Where do you want to go?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you find a place we’ve never been, and we’ll go there?” Henry opens his mouth and Emma holds her finger up. “Within one subway stop of here. I don’t want to traipse across the city. Let me go put on some actual pants, and then we’ll go, okay?”

Henry nods his head before quickly grabbing his phone and looking up restaurants while she walks back down the hallway to her bedroom to change out of her pajamas and into a pair of jeans and a light sweater that will keep the chill away since every restaurant is inevitably freezing. She can’t wait until fall truly rolls around and the temperature dips so that she can walk around all bundled up and no one will say a word.

Of course, this is Manhattan, and no one cares if Emma is walking around in nice, clean clothes or a T-rex suit.

When she’s finished getting ready and has run her hands through Henry’s hair to try to calm it down despite his protests, they leave their apartment, saying goodbye to the doorman Henry has pretty much adopted into their family, and follow the GPS to the restaurant Henry picked out. Emma didn’t look into it too much. All she saw was that it had good reviews and food that Henry would most definitely eat without complaint, and she was good to go.

(Her rumbling stomach really helps her make decisions much more quickly than she would otherwise.)

The place is on a corner lot, black gates cornering off the outdoor tables that all have umbrellas open over them if they’re not already covered by the black awnings that extend over the windows and toward the bubble lights that are brightening the space even with the constant flow of street lights and car headlights that keep passing by.

Sweet William.

“Kid,” Emma hesitates as they wait for the crosswalk light to turn on, “this place is packed. I don’t know if we’re going to be able to eat here.”

Henry tugs on her hand, and she looks down at him to see him smile. “Can we please at least try? The website said we didn’t need reservations, and that it has really good cheeseburgers. And those Alexander drinks that you like.”

“You really shouldn’t know about my alcohol preferences.”

“I know that you really like piña coladas, but you’re always too embarrassed to buy those unless we’re at the beach with Mary Margaret and David.”

Emma huffs and tugs Henry closer to her side so that she can kiss his forehead. “I think you’re too observant for your own good.”

“I thought moms wanted their kids to be smart.”

“We do…to a certain extent.”

The light changes and suddenly there’s a rush of people walking across the street. Emma holds onto Henry out of instinct as they move along with the crowd and walk up to the restaurant. Emma doesn’t expect them to get a table, especially once they walk inside and she can see that all of the tables and booths are full, but she asks the hostess anyway. She gives Emma a tight smile, one that is definitely more annoyed than kind, and then they’re told that it’ll be a forty-minute wait unless they want to sit at the bar. Emma’s fine with that, especially since Henry is insistent on getting one of these cheeseburgers, so they’re quickly guided through the restaurant until they get to the bar in the back and are stuck in the corner on the little swivel chairs.

How in the world has she never heard of this place? It’s obviously popular and in walking distance of her apartment. Emma needs to get out more often, but that’s too much effort.

When in the world did she turn into an old woman?

Probably when she had a kid at eighteen and then began getting up for work far before the sun rises.

Henry catches her up on everything that’s been happening at school in the past week. His friends are all obsessed with some new YouTube blogger that she’s going to have to check out, and his science project is due in two weeks. Emma puts a reminder in her phone over that because they will forget about it, and Henry will come home the night before it’s due so that they have to make a last-minute trip to the store for absolutely everything he needs and neither of them will get any sleep.

“Wait, so what happened with Avery’s mom?” Emma asks Henry as she sips on her diet coke.

“She had to go to the emergency – ”

“Swan!”

Emma’s head flips so quickly at the sound of the familiar accent that she almost gets whiplash, and all of the sudden Killian Jones is standing in front of her behind the bar with a stupid grin on his face. It’s the one that he does whenever he’s made a joke after she spectacularly fails at some kind of cooking thing or spills food on her apron, and Emma is experiencing whiplash in more ways than one.

What the hell is he doing here?

“Jones,” she greets, nodding at him. “What are you doing behind the bar?”

He raises his brows, a signature move of his as she’s learned over their weeks of doing segments, but then they settle back down to their normal place. “You don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“Nothing,” he sighs as he leans forward and rests his elbow on the bar top. “Who’s this young gentleman? Your date for the evening perhaps?”

Heat rushes to Emma’s cheeks, as well as the urge to mutter a few curses, because this is not good. Not good at all. Only a few people at work know about Henry and those people are people who she spends time with outside of work. Those people are her family, bloodlines be damned. They’re not the chef who comes by every Monday morning and attempts to flirt with her while showing her how to make an apple cider bar for fall holiday parties.

Emma opens her mouth to try to save some face, but then Henry is speaking. “Henry Swan. You’re the guy who teaches my mom to cook on TV.” Henry leans forward and nearly knocks over his drink. “You’re not doing a very good job.”

Emma scoffs while Killian leans back with his hand on his chest and his entire face lit up with his laugh. A few people look over to them, but they quickly turn away while Killian keeps chuckling and Emma finds herself at a total loss for words.

Her son just called her a bad cook and also told someone that he’s her son. How in the world does she react to that?

“I’m trying my best, lad,” Killian chuckles, wiping away a tear from his eye, “but your mum is very much a beginner. Maybe if they let me come in for her show more often, I could help her out more.”

“Maybe,” Henry shrugs. “Do you work here?”

“Aye, I do. This is my restaurant.”

She hopes the floor is clean because Emma’s jaw is about to drop there.

Of all of the restaurants in this city, Henry had to pick this one.

“Cool, so you make the cheeseburgers? The reviews online say they’re really good.”

Killian looks at her, his eyes wide, and Emma realizes that he’s silently asking for her permission to keep talking to Henry. She doesn’t know how she knows that, but she does. Nodding, she tilts her head back toward Henry.

“I have other chefs that help me out,” Killian continues, “which is why I get to come out here and talk to you guys, but I did come up with the recipe for it. Is that what you ordered?”

“Yep. Mom ordered a salad and is making me eat part of it.”

“Ah, well, vegetables are important, and I promise that my salads are good salads.”

“I’ll believe it when I taste it.”

Emma snorts and hides her smile behind her drink while Killian looks back at her and moves his brows across his face. She didn’t know he could have this long of a conversation without flirting.

“Do you two want a table?” Killian asks them as he tugs up the sleeve of his shirt, and not for the first time, she notices the red scars that stretch up his left hand and arm. “I know we’re busy in here tonight, but I think I have a little pull to get you a table.”

“Thank you, but I think we’re fine. Right, kid?”

“As long as I get my cheeseburger, I’d sit in the bathroom and be happy.”

Sometimes Emma forgets that Henry is a ten-year-old boy who still finds the occasional fart funny and that he doesn’t have a great sense of hygiene, and then he says something like that to bring her back to earth and reminds herself that her kid is, indeed, a kid.

Killian stays and talks to them for a few minutes before he’s called off to sign some papers and disappears behind a set of double doors that Emma assumes lead to the kitchen. They don’t see or hear from him again that night, though their food gets to them much more quickly than most everyone else at the bar. Henry absolutely devours the cheeseburger, barely taking a bite of any of the vegetables that she puts in front of him, but she doesn’t expect anything less. Her salad is really good, though. She usually hates any salad that she has to eat (the pressure of being on TV and all), but she actually enjoys it tonight.

Even after she asks for the bill, and she’s told by the bartender that their check has already been paid and that they have a to-go box of a blueberry cobbler waiting for them at the front of the restaurant.

Emma is a sucker for any kind of cobbler or pie.

Henry seems to think that this has been the coolest night of his life, and she took him to Disney World in June after years of begging.

When Monday morning rolls around, Emma is as exhausted as ever, and she muddles through her routine of hair and makeup before rolling out onto the set and plastering a smile on her face that matches everyone else’s as they banter back and forth about their weekends. It’s fine, normal as ever, and then Emma is being shuffled over to the kitchen set in between takes where she sees Killian already in his show-provided apron.

Shit.

She forgot about this? How could she? It’s been a part of her routine for eight weeks now.

“Morning, love,” he greets, grin on his face. “Fancy seeing you here.”

She huffs and grabs her apron before tying it around her waist. “We obviously can’t stay away from each other’s places of business. What are we cooking today?”

“Healthy, easy meals that work perfect for leftovers for your kid’s lunch the next day.”

Emma’s heartbeat quickens, and she quickly looks around to see that everyone is distracted watching David and Mary Margaret go over some viral video. “Hey, so don’t mention Henry on air, okay? I never meant for you to meet him, and I don’t…he’s the best part of my life, but I like to keep my home life and work life separate.”

Killian nods and walks a little closer to her so that he sways into her space, his hand lingering close to hers. “I assumed as much, love. I promise you that I won’t mention him, and believe it or not, this was planned before I knew about your boy.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely a liar.”

He shrugs. “A liar who bought your dinner and gave you a complimentary dessert because I heard you were a fan of cobblers and all things in the pie family.”

“You know, just because you buy me dinner doesn’t mean I’m going to start liking you.” Killian winks before waggling those damn brows again, and Emma has to bite back her laugh. “Don’t think I’m taking my eyes off you for a second.”

“I would despair if you did.”

-/-

As the weeks go on and summer officially fades into fall, Emma continues to stick to her routines as all of the new parts of it become a little more normal. She wakes up early, occasionally getting to the gym before work but most of the time right after she finishes, goes to work to spend a few hours talking, and then runs errands before picking up Henry from school and spending her afternoon with him. Sometimes Ruby or Mary Margaret and David come over and on occasion Will takes Henry to the batting cages to practice his batting stance, but other than that, things are all the same.

Well, mostly.

She has gotten better about buying groceries more often (hello grocery delivery even with the delivery prices) and attempting to cook so that they can order less takeout, and Henry complains about her cooking a hell of a lot less.

(She really isn’t that bad.)

The one big change, however, is that every Friday night she and Henry wander a few blocks over to Sweet William to get dinner. It started out as an accident, mostly Emma craving a cheeseburger after going to a Pilates class that absolutely kicked her ass, and the two of them found themselves sitting at the corner of the bar again. That quickly changed as the hostess moved them to a booth that has comfortable seats and enough space to fit a few more people. Emma insisted that the bar is fine, but she was told that the owner insists that the two of them sit there.

(Henry is convinced that having a special table for him is the greatest thing in existence, and who knew that being treated specially at a restaurant would be such a huge thing for Henry?)

It goes like that every Friday night. She and Henry go to Sweet William, sitting at the same booth that is always reserved for them, and the two of them make it a challenge to try as many things on the menu as they can. Killian always comes out and sits with them for a few minutes, smelling of a mixture of foods that he doesn’t usually smell of on The Morning Show set, and he’s as charming as he always is.

Emma doesn’t trust it.

Except for the fact that she kind of does.

This is a coworker who is being kind to her and her son. He’s not doing anything untoward, and he’s not asking her for something. Not at all. Killian is simply being nice, entertaining Henry’s questions about what it’s like to be a professional chef and what it’s like to be on TV. Emma scoffs at that, telling Henry that she is literally on TV far more often than Killian is, but he doesn’t seem to care about any of that.

Professional chef obviously trumps Mom.

They learn that Killian moved to New York from London five years ago to open this restaurant after needing a change of scenery and getting all of the right paperwork and that he stumbled into working on The Morning Show because his restaurant manager saw the opening and applied for him as some kind of joke that ended up working out. In turn, Emma shares the story of meeting David when he came to visit the local news station she was working in and how that he offered her the opportunity to start working for the network. It took a bit of convincing, but she and Henry moved from Maine to Manhattan and had a bit of culture shock.

They love it.

The conversation never really seems to stop flowing, not at Friday night dinners and not during the Monday morning segments that keep on getting better and better as Emma becomes honestly comfortable bantering with Killian as she devours all of the food that he cooks. Ruby teases her about it, making far too many inappropriate jokes involving eating, and it only gets worse when there’s a stack of papers on Emma’s desk with printed off tweets talking about how many people look forward to having Emma and Killian working together.

“They ship you,” Ruby explains as she paints red lipstick onto Emma’s lips the day after a particularly funny Halloween segment where Killian made all of the food look both delicious and disgusting in all of its gory and spooky goodness.

“What in the world does that mean?”

“You have a ten-year-old. How do you not know what that means?”

“I think it’s a relationship thing, and he’s not interested in those, which I’m thankful for.”

“He will be,” Ruby promises, and Emma swears that doesn’t make her sentimental. “And shipping is, like, when you want two people to be together.”

Emma almost jolts forward in the chair, but she’s working particularly hard at not moving. She will not react to that. “That’s just weird.” “Eh, kind of, but also not really. You two are ridiculously hot and also have great chemistry together. I get it. Part your lips for me.”

Emma completely and totally pushes that entire conversation to the back of her mind as she finishes getting ready for work and spends her morning doing a Ninja Warrior course with a five-year-old who is a million times better than her at it. It’s actually ridiculous, and she really shouldn’t have worn tight jeans for this.

Not the best outfit choice. At least she got to wear sneakers and a sports bra. It probably would have been disastrous otherwise.

So things are changing, but even the new routines become actual routines, which is exactly what throws Emma for a loop when Henry asks her if he can spend the night with Avery Friday night. She says yes after checking in with Avery’s mom, and after dropping Henry off with his backpack and a promise to see him at noon tomorrow, Emma goes back to an empty apartment that never seems quite right when Henry isn’t around.

Emma’s all about her alone time, something she doesn’t get a lot of even with Henry getting older, but she’s thrown by not having him with her tonight. What does she do? Treat herself to a spa night? She doesn’t really need one. Her job pretty much keeps her pampered all the time. Maybe she could read a book? Or watch a new TV show? But what TV show? There are so many that she’s behind on, and she wouldn’t even know where to begin.

Food would probably be a good start.

And without really thinking about it, Emma grabs her purse, zips up her boots, and walks out the door of her apartment to find herself at she and Henry’s usual Friday night spot, the little reserved sign with their names waiting for them.

Except she’s by herself.

Until someone is sliding a piña colada in front of her and then sitting across from her in the booth.

“How in the world do you know that I like these?”

Killian grins, one of those dumb ones that reaches his eyes and makes them crinkle. “Your boy told me that you love them but that you have some ridiculous hang up about ordering them.”

“They’re not on your menu.”

“I know a guy.” Killian nods his head toward her. “Where is the lad tonight?”

Emma hums and takes a sip of her drink. It’s freaking fantastic, and she’s got to thank Henry for spilling her secrets to Killian. Or, at least, that one secret. “He is spending the night with a friend, so he abandoned me to eat by myself.”

“Kids, they betray us all.”

“You’ve been betrayed by a kid?”

“No. I find myself to be too charming.”

She snorts, not really meaning to. “Don’t get too full of yourself, Jones. One day you’ll probably have children, and they will betray you.”

He reaches up to scratch behind his ear. “Eh, I don’t know about that.”

“What? You don’t want kids?”

Wow, Emma. Just go for the personal, why don’t you?

“Don’t answer that,” she blurts out. “That’s too personal of a question, and I should have never asked it.”

Killian reaches over and places his hand over hers on the table, warmth spreading up over her arm. “It’s fine, Swan. I don’t find you intrusive. I think I’d like kids someday, but I’m thirty-four now, not seeing anyone I see a future with, and my relationship history isn’t the best.”

“I can understand that.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m a twenty-eight-year-old single mother to a ten-year-old. Do the math.”

Killian smiles and reaches up to adjust the collar of his shirt so that she can see a flash of dark chest hair and the slightest bit of ink. “Aye, I know. I didn’t want to presume. Is Henry’s dad – ”

“He doesn’t know that he exists,” Emma blurts out before downing far too much of her drink. This is too sweet for large gulps like that but really damn good. “I never got the chance to tell him. I was seventeen with no resources except for a slightly sympathetic foster mom and a part-time job as a video editor at a local news station, and Neal just disappeared into thin air one night.”

“What a bastard.”

“You’re telling me,” Emma scoffs. “It’s why I asked you not to say anything about Henry. I’m not ashamed of him. He’s the best thing to ever happen to me. I just…”

“You don’t want Neal to try to come back now that you’ve made a bit of a name out of yourself,” Killian finishes for her, and for the first time in all of the times that she’s told this story, someone understands. “I left London because my brother died in a Naval accident, and my long-term girlfriend left me because my grief was too much for her. She tried to contact me for the same reason the other day. On some level, I understand you even if I know having a child makes things more complicated.”

Emma’s heart absolutely pangs. Sharing tragic backstories and the scars on her heart is not her thing, but something about this man makes the words nearly flow out of her without hesitation. It’s not something she’s used to, not in the slightest.

“What was his name?”

“Liam. He, well, he’d call me a bloody idiot for naming this place after him and after the flower. It was my mum’s favorite, most likely why she named Liam what she did even if we never called him William. I thought it was a great way to honor them both, especially since they’re the people who taught me how to cook.”

“It was.”

Killian tightly smiles before lifting up his hand to wave a server down. “Though, I had a miserable experience with a dish gone wrong that nearly burned down my kitchen and took off my entire arm, so I’m not sure how great of teachers they actually were.”

“You have a restaurant that’s always packed, so I’d say they did a pretty good job.”

He leans forward as a server gets closer to them, and heat does not curl in Emma’s stomach when Killian winks. Not at all. “Or maybe I’m simply that naturally gifted, darling.” She opens her mouth to say something, but then Killian is turning away. “Wendy, can you tell everyone in the back that I’ll be dining out here tonight? Miss Swan is just about to help me come up with our seasonal menu since she has a real thumb on what the public wants.”

“Yes, sir, I can do that.”

Emma arches her brow. “Just invite yourself to my dinner, why don’t you?”

“Would it make it up to you if I pay?”

“You always pay. Every employee in this place refuses to take anything other than a tip from both me and Henry.”

“Huh, wonder why that is.”

They spend the next few hours picking apart the menu, arguing back and forth over food and drink preferences and the pros and cons of classics and specialties, and Emma has never laughed so hard over food. In fact, she’s never laughed so hard in her entire life. She’s spent so much time with this man but usually in short spurts, so she’s never actually gotten to see what he’s like or learn too much about him. He’s still quick to make an innuendo and slow to accept changes or any kind of criticism to the menu, but by the time the restaurant is closed and all of the tables are cleared, they’ve figured something out.

And had a few too many drinks that have her laughing even more.

They also have her accepting Killian’s offer to sleep in his guest bedroom in his apartment upstairs. She should say no, should not at all be accepting an offer like that when she has a perfectly good place ten minutes away, but she’s tired and the thought of getting to bed soon feels too good to pass up.

Her routine changes just a little bit more, and she embraces it for once in her life.

The alcohol makes it be a little less terrifying.

-/-

Killian does an entire segment on pies on the show Monday morning.

He says that it’s for Thanksgiving, but she knows that it’s for her.

He also adds more to the menu at Sweet William.

-/-

After that night, Henry starts inviting Killian over to the apartment for cooking lessons, claiming that both he and Emma could learn to be a little better so that they could eat more than one good meal a week, but Emma knows that there’s some kind of ulterior motive in Henry. There’s a sparkle in those brown eyes of his, and even though he claims that he wants to cook (as much as a ten-year-old can), he always seems to find himself in the living room so that Emma is left with just Killian.

Sneaky kid.

Who gets even sneakier when he invites Killian to Thanksgiving dinner with them. Emma was going to do it. She honestly was, but Henry beat her to it. And that’s exactly how Emma shows up at David and Mary Margaret’s house on Thanksgiving with Henry, Killian Jones, and three pies.

Every single person there is thoroughly intrigued and confused.

Emma is too.

She doesn’t bring men to holidays. She doesn’t bring men around at all. And she especially doesn’t bring men around who sit with their arm around her shoulder or who press their hand lightly into the small of Emma’s back as they stand in the kitchen and debate the different types of dressings to go with turkey.

Except that’s exactly what is happening here, and it sends a little thrill down Emma’s spine that she can’t quite place.

(She can, but it’s almost too terrifying to do that.)

Killian knows most everyone from his mornings on the show, so Emma doesn’t spend her time trying to ease him into things. He does that completely on his own and charms everyone the way that he always does even if she sees him scratch behind his ear, which is undeniably his nervous tick. And hopefully, just hopefully, no one is asking him a million questions like she’s getting asked about whether or not the two of them are dating and does he know that a weird section of the internet ships them?

They’re not, and he does. They laugh about it over wine and Emma’s really gross lasagna on the nights Killian has off from the restaurant.

The day passes in a blur of football and too much food, and before Emma can even blink, the three of them are packing up leftovers and getting an Uber back to Emma’s apartment. Henry crashes as soon as they get there, mumbling something about being too exhausted to take off his shoes, and then he disappears into his room while Killian puts the Tupperware containers into the fridge.

“You don’t have to do that,” she tells him before adjusting her shirt from where it wrinkled. “I can do it.”

“It’s fine, love,” he insists and he puts the leftover apple pie away next to the one he made for her to stay here. “Should we get some coffee and watch a movie? Are you one of those who is ready to celebrate Christmas already?”

“The turkey has been eaten, Jones. It’s time for Christmas. If I didn’t feel like I was dying from overeating and having to talk to people all day, we’d be out getting a Christmas tree right now.”

“Would I be the one carrying it?”

“You know it.”

“It would be my pleasure. I think the pine would mask the smell of kitchen on me.”

Emma turns the coffee maker on, and while it percolates, she starts straightening up the kitchen, putting away dishes in the dishwasher and wiping down countertops, but since they cooked (they being mostly Killian) in the kitchen of Killian’s restaurant, there’s not much to clean up. It’s what has her looking at Killian as he stares down at his phone, fingers typing away a message before the screen goes black and he’s placing it in his back pocket and looking at Emma with the softest smile that she’s ever seen.

And maybe it’s the wine or maybe it’s that she’s feeling good…hell, maybe it’s because Emma wants to do something for herself for a change. Maybe it’s that her reasons don’t matter. All she knows is that she’s stepping forward and pressing her palms to Killian’s cheeks and kissing him.

She’s kissing him.

He doesn’t kiss back, not at first. There’s a bit of a grunt, one that doesn’t necessarily sound pleasant, but then his hands are pressing against her back and his lips are moving over hers while he backs them across the kitchen until the sharp edge of her counter is hitting her back. His kiss is warm and tastes of apple and cinnamon and quite possibly a bit of the rum he had right before they left. Emma groans when his teeth nibble down onto her and his hand snakes up underneath her shirt so that she can feel the heat of his palm.

Everything about him is warm and inviting, and as his tongue runs over the seam of her lips and she parts her mouth for him, Emma realizes that it’s been like that the entire time, even when she was upset with him simply for replacing Chef Rudianni and daring to be something different.

Emma almost likes different now.

No, she does. When it’s the right kind of different and a change that she’s okay making.

Killian pulls back, and Emma realizes that they’re both panting, foreheads pressed together and noses squishing into each other’s cheeks. Emma nearly giggles at the thought of her having beard burn.

She’s the height of maturity. She also doesn’t care. It’s been a long time since she’s felt like this.

“That was,” Killian breathes out.

“Definitely happening again,” she smiles before kissing him again.

Little by little they manage to make it out of the kitchen and back to Emma’s bedroom, both of them careful not to make any noise so as not to wake Henry, and once the door is locked behind them, clothes are shed and Killian’s lips run across her body, whispering words that sound sweeter than anything else, until he’s driving her into madness in a way that she hasn’t felt in years.

Maybe not ever.

The good changes keep on coming.

(So does Emma.)

-/-

Henry barely bats an eye when Killian is there to make them breakfast in the morning even though Emma is more than sure to make sure everything stays appropriate for him. She’s not really sure how to navigate dating around Henry, and when she asks him if he’s okay with she and Killian being together, he tells her that he wants her to be happy.

He also says that he wants to keep getting free cheeseburgers.

-/-

A year later, Killian names the cheeseburger at his restaurant after Henry.

The piña colada is named after Emma.

-/-

Every Monday morning and every Friday night turns into every day, and Emma is more than okay with that change.

#every monday morning #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan fic #captain swan

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scripttorture · 5 years ago

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Do you have any ideas for showing some of my trauma survivor characters working on improving their memory? Not about details surrounding the trauma, but everyday things, like car keys. It occurred to me I know about treatment or ways to live with all the symptoms I picked but memory problems caused by trauma.

I don’t actually know if there are proper treatments being trialled for trauma survivors. Anecdotally no one I know who sought treatment for long term trauma symptoms (around half a dozen people) was offered anything for their memory specifically.

My impression is that while there are strategies that are useful the effect trauma has on memory is often, not ignored exactly but overlooked. It seems like care providers look at the more dramatic symptoms and focus primarily on those, not realising the huge and detrimental effects memory problems have on every day life.

What I’m going to describe here are things I picked up in the time I spent with dementia patients.

The school I first went to in England had links to the local Alzheimers charity and we held yearly/twice yearly social events for sufferers. Because music takes one look at me and curls up to die, I was one of the people who basically went round chatting to everyone. Years later my English grandfather was diagnosed with a form of dementia (likely brought on by smoking). He ended up in a specialist home with quite a few residents. So I have spent quite a while around people with moderate to severe memory problems over the years.

The first helpful thing is routine.

Having a predictable, repeating pattern to the day really really helps.

Of course the flip side of that is it means disruption to that routine can be really stressful and difficult for the character to deal with. It can also be very hard to establish a routine.

Routine is going to be more important for dementia sufferers then most trauma survivors. Because memory loss in dementia is generally more severe and declines with time. This means that torture survivors have more flexibility when it comes to disruptions to routine. They’ve got enough working memory and context for what’s happening to them to adapt.

But having a predictable pattern to stick to is still helpful and takes away some of the stress of trying to work out what to do everyday. A set sleep schedule (or at least a ‘trying to sleep’ schedule), regular meal times and regular times for activities such as work and spending time with loved ones reduces the amount of things to forget.

Calendars are also very helpful.

Large hanging calendars on walls, with plans for the day clearly written on them. Depending on how severe the character’s memory problems are (or how worried the character is about them) you could just have one calendar in a clearly visible place such as the kitchen or the back of the front door. You could also have several calendars around the house, but the more calendars there are the higher the risk of forgetting to fill one out properly.

This doesn’t help dementia sufferers now much but younger people who are comfortable with technology can use phone alerts and digital calendars to remind them of activities and where they’re supposed to be. Which is helpful for character who wants to be discrete about their memory loss.

I’ve also seen post it notes all over walls and fridges like some kind of thick yellow fur.

In terms of finding things- actually a lot of the type of advice Marie Kondo uses can be helpful.

Reducing clutter and getting rid of things that don’t serve a purpose (making the character happy is a purpose too) makes it easier to see where things are.

Having a designated space for everything also helps. Dementia charities tend to recommend having a big, obvious bowl to hold things that are needed every day such as keys, wallets etc. Good lighting and contrasting colours (of the bowl vs the surroundings in this case) make it easier to remember and identify the right place for the keys.

There’s also some higher-tech things that can help now. Like small tags that can be attached to keys or other smaller objects and beep or light up when signalled. These don’t tend to be used with dementia sufferers but would be helpful to characters more comfortable with tech.

Emergency numbers kept as a list by a landline phone, or as an obvious saved group in a mobile phone is helpful.

If the character takes medication then a pill box organiser is incredibly useful. Because even without memory problems it’s difficult to remember if you took the right amount of pills some days.

Digital clocks and calendars with large automatically updating displays help people keep track of the day and month. Having a lot of them around the living areas can be helpful especially when combined with calendar alerts.

Dementia charities also tend to recommend making decoration changes in a home. Some of those are more to do with age then memory problems. But the general instruction to make living spaces lighter, use contrasting colours and keep things neat is helpful to anyone who regularly has trouble finding things.

I’ve heard of a lot of people writing notes on the backs of their hands or arms. This can be useful in the very short term but notes tend to wash or rub off quickly so it’s often not helpful for anything further away then a couple of hours.

It is a stop-gap solution that a lot of people hit on very quickly though. I think it would be normal for a character to do something like this first before moving on to more effective methods like a calendar system.

Similarly writing paper lists comes up a lot as a solution people trial early. It’s less useful then clear calendars and phone alerts because paper lists tend to get lost or muddled up easily.

Having other people the character trusts around to help can also be important.

Some people find it helpful to have reminders from their friends or family. Or to have help clearing and organising living space from them. This can help when everything is clearly communicated.

The flip side of it is that ‘organising’ someone’s living space without clear communication will obviously make things worse. Using someone else a kind of digital calendar also puts a lot of pressure on that person to get everything right. It can strain relationships even when the character wants to help.

Essentially when it comes to memory problems having other characters help out needs to be balanced carefully. It can be a big help but if there’s poor communication it can also create more problems.

That’s everything I can think of for general forgetfulness.

There are memory exercises and activities that seem to help improve memory in some dementia patients. But so far as I know there haven’t been similar studies on trauma survivors.

The mechanisms of memory loss and difficulties forming new memories aren’t the same in these cases. That difference might mean that treatments (chemical or otherwise) which help dementia patients don’t help trauma survivors and vice versa. At the moment, I honestly don’t know.

There have been some studies in trauma survivors that show improvements with intrusive memories. Most of the studies on memory problems in survivors focus on intrusive memories and flashbacks that come with PTSD.

In terms of writing I’d suggest sticking to the organisational and life style changes that are recommended for early-stage dementia patients. They might not all fit for your character but adapting some of them should give a realistic framework to show them improving.

I hope that helps. :)

Availableon Wordpress.

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#Anonymous #tw torture #writing advice #writing victims #memory #dementia #memory loss and torture #writing recovery #recovery #memory problems

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thecoleopterawithana · 5 years ago

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Love your blog! I was wondering if you’ve read Paul’s PR guy’s diaries? They are full of little gems, such as how Paul uses smileys and is very handy with his iPhone. I read this entry and the guy writes Paul lost “a soulmate and songwriter”. I think it’s quite telling that the people he works with call John his soulmate. Haven’t read all the guy’s entries yet but just wanted to mention this one; it’s the entry about the Freshen Up tour in Japan 2018.

Hey there! I’m so incredibly sorry for taking so long to reply, but life has been truly hectic!

To answer your question, I hadn’t had the chance to go through Stuart Bell’s accounts of the Japanese leg of the Freshen Up Tour (2018), so I’m grateful you’ve brought this to my attention! He certainly offers a different insight into the inner workings of the tour and how a more than experienced Paul navigates the commotion still with youthful enthusiasm. Even if written with a bit of a “PR hat on”, an amassing of ‘insider’ POVs (from people who were actually there) is invaluable to getting the full picture of Paul McCartney. And as someone who is filled with love every time a new facet is revealed, I appreciate any piece of information that comes my way!

So I have to agree with you that little anecdotes like these are hidden gems:

The devotion and adoration is incredible and as Paul’s car rolls by this afternoon, the faithful are rewarded as Paul winds down the window and waves. He is so touched, and awed, by the reception that he even shoots some footage as he rolls past the fans. (Later in the week I receive a text from Paul while I am out for a run and it contains the clip. It looks mega so I ask if I can post to his social media – shortly afterwards I receive a smile face. A little-known fact about Paul – he is the master of emojis when text messaging!

— Wednesday 31st October – Tokyo Dome, For Whom The Bell Tells: Japan 2018.

And then, we have this other entry, that I agree is rather interesting: not only does it give us an ‘insider’s perspective on John’s significance in Paul’s life, but the piece centres on the issue of art as a platform with the power to spread a message, social responsibility, and how the message is something one’s passionate about (Paul being described as “not shying away from wearing his heart on his sleeve” just tickles me):

It barely needs mentioning that music is a huge and central part of Paul’s life but he has never been detached from the wider world. Like many musicians, matters of the heart are a preoccupation in his song-writing but Paul has continued to express his thoughts on life, the world in general and the causes close to his heart through his songs, interviews and other interventions. You can look back to the controversy surrounding his debut single with Wings, 'Give Ireland Back To The Irish’ (a response to the “Bloody Sunday” killings only a few weeks earlier in 1972), as an example of how he does not shy away from wearing his heart on his sleeve. Paul is passionate about many things and his humanity is self-evident. For a man who lost a soulmate and song-writing partner, you can imagine how the horrors of gun violence are an issue close to his heart. Just days ago the world was sickened by the mass shooting in a synagogue in Pittsburgh and so Paul has been keen to make his views known by not only showing his disgust at the attack which left 11 dead but also calling on the US to do the right thing by using their votes in the upcoming election to elect politicians who will do something about it. As I’m on my way to the venue Paul calls me and asks us to release a message in response to the terrible events. He gives me a quote over the phone and in a rather surreal moment as we chat, I find myself looking out of the car window to see giant posters of Paul across the city with huge welcome messages for him.

—Thursday 1st November – Tokyo Dome, For Whom The Bell Tells: Japan 2018.

But let’s address the bit about his relationship with John.

Like you, I find very telling the choice of words used here. It just goes to show how themselves and everyone around them have to scramble for a term that adequately describes the ineffability of their connection. It felt so encompassing, that the terms that regularly pop up hold that indescribable aspect in themselves: special, magical, cosmic soulmates. And seeing them struggle to put it into words is one of my favourite things! It’s no surprise then that I have an inordinate amount of overlapping tags covering the numerous nuances of this very same feeling, tracking their various attempts at capturing it.

But for me, it’s even more fascinating to look beyond the external awe-inducing aspect of it – this special, magical, cosmic glow that draws us to the relationship in the first place – and see how this notion felt to them; how it impacted the relationship in the first place.

Let’s look from Paul’s perspective first, as it is here, by a matter of the circumstances, that we find more material.

We wrote our first songs together, we grew up together and we lived our lives together. And when we’d do it together, something special would happen. There’d be that little magic spark.

— Paul McCartney, in Bill Harry’s The Paul McCartney Encyclopedia (2003).

We read each other. We’d grown up together! (…) We’d been teenagers together, I’d been sitting in his bedroom listening to Fats Domino, Chuck Berry, we’d been taking down the words together when we were like 16/17. So we’ve actually grown up together. So that, if he said: “Gotta be like Chuck Berry!” I knew what record he meant. I knew even what line he was talking about! You know? So, we read each other in that respect.

— Paul McCartney, interview for the Today Show (6 July 1997).

With John and I, it was so special, I think both of us knew we couldn’t get that again. And it’s proved itself, through time, to be as special as it felt when we were doing it. So I don’t think that could happen again. We really were a complete fluke – just two kids who happened to meet up in Liverpool and share an interest and start writing songs together. And then developed, organically, together. And had the same sense of humour. And learned things at the same rate. Found out about Vietnam together. Little things. All of these little awarenesses pretty much hit us at the same time over a period of years. And you really become soulmates when that happens.

— Paul McCartney, interview w/ Mark Binelli for Rolling Stone: Sir Paul rides again. (October 20th, 2005)

No matter what’s happened, even though John’s dead, I don’t feel like we are ever gonna be apart. I think we’re a part of each other’s lives, we’re a part of each other’s karma, man!

He was a lovely guy, you know. And it gets sadder and sadder to be saying “was”. Nearer to when he died I couldn’t believe I was saying “was”, but now I do believe I’m saying “was”. I’ve resisted it. I’ve tried to pretend he didn’t get killed… it’s a bit sad. But anyway, I was blessed to be in The Beatles, to work with John. Something, somewhere… you know they talk about a gift of songwriting, well that was a pretty cool gift whoever gave it me.

— Paul McCartney, interview w/ Mat Snow for MOJO (November, 1995).

Paul seems to take a causality approach, with a bit of occasional baffling at the mysterious workings of fate sprinkled in. In typical Macca fashion, he condenses in himself the apparently paradoxical views of people as pavers of their own paths – we became soulmates because of the circumstances, because we chose to spend all that time together – and people as participants in a big cosmic play – we were brought together in the first place by something, somewhere, blessed to be a part of each other’s lives, each other’s karma.

But overall, it is very important to realise that despite attributing the initial circumstances to chance or a higher-power – them meeting at that particular moment and clicking so well immediately – Paul seems to value shared time, space and experiences as some of the biggest factors behind the magic.

They became soulmates, by virtue of growing up and living their lives together.

This places the agency and the responsibility of making it work right in their own hands. You want to be that close, that attuned, that in-sync with the other to the point of feeling like you can read each other’s minds? Right, you have to actually spend the time together, to accrue shared references and memories that will end up developing into that unspoken language. You can’t expect to have been born on this planet inherently capable of communicating with your preordained soulmate.

And that brings us to John.

John is awesome because despite having all those overpowering emotions and traumas inside him, he wasn’t actually afraid of engaging in some introspection and facing those feelings head-on. Because of this, he was able of evolving much faster (or at least, even when he couldn’t always change his actions, he seemed willing to try and become self-aware enough to understand why he was acting that way in the first place).

So let’s see, after 40 years of getting to know himself, what answers did Johnny reach:

John: Well, you’re asking why we met. I mean, I don’t know. It’s like asking why you were born. I can give you theories of karmic pasts and things like that, but I’ve no idea why. But why it continues is because we want it to continue and work to continue. There seem to be certain cycles that relationships go through. The critical points are at different parts of the different cycles. The new way of talking is like, “Well, why work on a relationship? We just stop and get another one.” But the karmic joke is, presuming you’re lucky enough to find a new relationship anywhere near the relationship you’re giving up – or exchanging, or walking away from, or destroying by inattention or inadvertence of selfishness, or whatever it is – that you have to go through it over and over and over again right up until you’re seventy. People never grasp the fact that they’re going to have to go through the same thing again. They get to the sort of five-year stretch or the seven-year itch or whatever these tension points are, that seem to be organic, built in, like the tide coming in and going out. It’s like every time the tide goes out, you quit—you move your house of something, I’m not making it clear here but you get where I’m going…

Sheff: Yes, yes, but what made you see that?

John: When [Yoko] kicked me out, I saw I was kicked out. When I was kicked out, I realised where I was, which was on a raft in the middle of the universe, and whatever happened, presuming I could have started another relationship, I would have ended up in the same place—if I was lucky. And that’s a big if.

Sheff: You’re speaking about your separation in the early Seventies.

John: Seventy-three, or whenever we were separated, which is sort of a very cold way of saying it. It took a while, but that’s what I saw. If I was lucky… It’s like what they say about karma. If you don’t get it right in this lifetime, you have to come back and go through it again. Well, those laws that are sort of cosmically talked about – accepted or not, but talked about apply down to the most minute detail of life, too. It’s like ‘Instant Karma,’ which is my way of saying it, right? It’s not just some big cosmic thing, although it’s that as well, but it’s also the small things, like your life here and your relationship with the person you want to live with and be with. There are laws governing that relationship, too. You can either give up halfway up the hill and say, “I don’t want to climb the mountain, it’s too tough, I’m going to go back to the bottom and start again,” or you can do it this time.

Sheff: But you once decided it was too tough.

John: I did. But I didn’t see any of this then. Yoko and I were lucky enough to go through that and come back and pick up where we left off, although it took us some kind of effort and energy to – to blend in again and get in the same sync again. It took some time.

— John Lennon, interview w/ David Sheff for Playboy. (September, 1980)

It is with great love and affection that I see John’s matured insights: that despite having met under cosmically mysterious circumstances, the choice to build it into something more is in your hands.

“Why it continues is because we want it to continue and work to continue.”

But John, like Paul, seems to have only gained this wisdom with the benefit of time and experience. It was with the perspective afforded by the passage of years that Paul came to fully realise and appreciate how truly special and improbably “perfect for each other” they were. And John “took his lucky break” and realised how hard it was to “find a new relationship anywhere near the relationship you’re giving up – or exchanging, or walking away from, or destroying by inattention or inadvertence of selfishness”.

(As an aside, I can’t help but point out how John pretty much disclosed what, in his opinion, made the mountain called JohnandPaul too difficult to climb: his selfishness and Paul’s inattention.)

In the same interview and continuing the reflections on the cyclic nature of relationships started above, and just what he lost by giving it up:

John: In a marriage, or a love affair – when the seven-year-itch or the twelve-year or whatever these things that you have to go through – there comes a point where the marriage collapses because they can’t face that reality, and they go seeking what they thought they should be having, still, somewhere else. I get a new girl, it’ll all be like that again; I get a new boy… But for all marriages, all couples, it’ll all be the same again. But what you lose is what you put into that… relationship. The early stuff – the Hard Day’s Night period, I call it – the early period, was the early equi– se– what I’m – what I’m equating it to is the sexual equivalent of the beginning of a relationship, of people in love. And the Sgt. Pepper-Abbey Road period was the period of maturity in the relationship. And maybe had we gone on together, maybe something more interesting would have come out of it. It would not have been the same. It would have been a different thing. But maybe it wouldn’t either. Maybe it was a marriage that had to end. Some marriages don’t get through that – that phase. It’s hard to speculate about what would have been.

— John Lennon, interview w/ David Sheff for Playboy. (September, 1980)

So, John acknowledges how you risk losing a very special relationship and everything you’ve put into it by walking away when it goes through a cyclic tough phase, how he did it once but he “didn’t see any of this then”.

But what didn’t he see back then? Was he too careless and flippant about what they had, not appreciating how unique it was?

No.

John was, even back then, very much aware that this thing with Paul was special. And that, if anything, made it worse. Because now there were (perhaps unconscious) unmeetable expectations weighing down on his belief in the genuineness of the relationship.

If they are cosmically connected, then they should be able to communicate wordlessly, “share in each other’s minds”; if they can read each other’s minds, they should know the other’s every want and need; so if Paul is not innately responding to his wants and needs, he is either actively ignoring John’s suffering (because Paul doesn’t really care about him or, perhaps, because he actually derives pleasure from seeing John down); or Paul can’t actually feel John’s pain intrinsically in the first place, and that would mean that everything that John believed about the specialness of the relationship and the relationship itself was a lie.

And boy, faulty communication sure is one of the fatal flaws in their dynamic! All because there was the assumption that they were so in-tune that they didn’t need to talk! There seemed to be the expectation that everything would flow seamlessly. And if it wasn’t flowing, if anything required a bit of personal input to work it out, then it wasn’t genuine and spontaneous any more. And if the relationship wasn’t real, it wasn’t worth climbing the mountain for. It shouldn’t be a climb at all, but rather an effortless glide, hand-in-hand, through the universe!

John: Because we have plenty of arguments, but we’re also so attuned to each other, and we know each other so well, through the years, that an argument never reaches a climax. Or it never reaches the point where somebody goes off ‘cause they’re done talking, you know.

Q: In other words, it’s forgotten.

John: It’s not forgotten. But we know each other so well, it’s like sort of mind-reading. If an argument’s building up between Ringo and I, say, there comes to a point where we know what’s coming next and it’s all – everybody packs in. Or something – some, “Okay, he wins,” you know. So we have ordinary arguments, like other people, but we don’t – there’s no sort of conflict. All the people who have conflict in show business either get married about nineteen times, they leave the group they’re in and go solo… and nothing ever happens.

— Interview w/ Larry Kane (2 September 1964).

Hindle: What do you think about language?JOHN: I think it’s a bit crummy, you know? It is a drag form of communication, really. We’ll get – we’ll get telepathy. I believe that.Hindle: You believe that?JOHN: Yeah, sure. Sure. Sure as anything I believe. It’s too… Because now we need it so much. […] But it’s hard… it’s that bit, you know. There are – there’s people everywhere of the same mind and it’s just… even amongst ourselves we can’t communicate. Which is the hard bit, you know. Hindle: Yeah.JOHN: Amongst the people that sort of really agree. Hindle: Just ’cause of words?JOHN: Just ’cause of words, and upbringing, and attitude, and how you express your… Well, it’s just some – you’ve got to find a mutual sort of language to express yourself, you know? And my language is that—Hindle: Unless you fall in love it’s impossible to communicate like that. JOHN: I mean, I wasn’t in love last year, but I was communicating quite well with people. Not as well, or maybe not as powerfully. ’Cause now there’s two of us, doing that, brrmmm, whatever it is. Sending out a vibration or whatever. But before it was me and… or me and George, alright, or whatever it was; we weren’t in love, but. You know. There’s enough in you to shove it out. It is just that bit. If you – if somebody comes in a room and he’s uptight and that, he can make the whole room uptight.

— John Lennon, interview w/ Maurice Hindle (December 1968).

It’s sort of complicated but sometimes you say things, but it’s not really what you meant to say. If I say something to you and you hear it different from what I’ve said it, and you answer back and we’re not really getting down to it. I’m really talking like that you know. Like somebody says ‘do you want ice cream?’ and I’ll say no, and actually I meant yes. You find yourself saying the opposite of what you mean. This happens to me quite a lot. I speak a lot, but what I say is not always what I mean.

— John Lennon, when talking about I Know (I Know) (1973).

Laverdiere: [The Family Way soundtrack] was actually the first time you would officially compose outside the Lennon-McCartney tandem.

Paul: Yes, and you know, it’s funny. That’s true. It’s funny because talking to Yoko recently, you know, you talk about all these things that happen way back in history. It turns out John was not pleased; but I didn’t know ‘til a year ago that he wasn’t pleased. He always told me, “Fine.” ‘Cause he’d been acting in a film – he did a film called How I Won The War – so we started to do little solo thing, just for a change, just for a break, and so I assumed, I asked him, “Is it okay with you?” He said, “Yeah, fine, fine.”

But Yoko told me that he was actually a little bit put off by that, because he hoped probably that I would say Lennon-McCartney will write this together. But to me it seemed a good opportunity to get away of what I did normally. But Yoko just told me apparently John was a little bit hurt about that. Which is sad. But we did actually talk about it. He just never told me at that time. He probably just covered up.

—Paul McCartney, interview w/ Michel Laverdière. (May 23rd, 1995)

‘Rigby’’s, um, his first verse, and the rest of the verses are basically mine. But the way he did it was – uh, was he had the song, and he knew he’d got the song. So rather than ask me, “John, do these lyrics—” Because by that period, he didn’t want to say that – to me. Okay? So what he would say was, “Hey, you guys, finish off the lyrics,” while he was sort of fiddling around with the track or something, or – or arranging it, in the other part of the giant studio in EMI.

Now, I sat there with Mal Evans, a road manager who was a telephone installer, and Neil Aspinall, who was a not-completed student accountant who became our road manager. And I was insulted and hurt that he’d thrown it out in the air, but I wanted to grab a piece of it, and I wrote it with them sitting at the table. So. There might be a version that they contributed, but there isn’t a line in there that they put in.

But that’s how it – [Paul] just sort of— ‘Cause that’s the kind of insensitivity he would have – which made me upset in the later years – because to him, that meant nothing. But that’s the kind of person he is. So he threw ‘em out and said, “Here, finish these up,” like – to anybody, who was around. [By saying that] actually he meant I was to do it, but – you know, Neil and Mal were sitting there, and…

— John Lennon, interview w/ David Sheff for Playboy. (September, 1980)

John: We don’t really write together any more. We haven’t written together for two years. Not really. Just occasional bits we help… somebody’s got to use a line or two.

Miles: How does that affect you when you’re playing then?

John: It doesn’t make any odds, who writes them. It’s when The Beatles perform that makes it into Beatle music. It’s a long time since we’ve sat down and written together for many reasons, because we used to write together mainly on tour. Then there was a valid reason for it. It got false – “Come round to my house and we’ll write some songs” – it doesn’t work anymore.

—John Lennon, interview w/ Barry Miles, (partially) unpublished. (September 23rd, 1969)

But in the early days of performing, whether it was Hamburg or Liverpool, when we were still playing dance halls, there was still a lot of inspirational energy. We hadn’t started repeating our little movements, our little licks. So in that respect, the Beatles’ live creativity had gone long before they came to America. And in the same respect, the creativity of songwriting had left Paul and me… well by the mid-Sixties it had become a craft.

And yet… a different kind of thing comes in. It’s like a love affair. When you first meet, you can have the hots twenty-four hours a day for each other. But after fifteen or twenty years, a different kind of sexual and intellectual relationship develops, right? It’s still love, but it’s different. So there’s that kind of difference in creativity too. As in a love affair, two creative people can destroy themselves trying to recapture that youthful spirit, at twenty-one or twenty-four, of creating without even being aware of how it’s happening. One takes to drugs, to drinks, to knock oneself out…

— John Lennon, interview w/ David Sheff for Playboy. (September, 1980)

I was really going through the “What’s it all about?” type thing – this songwriting is nothing, it’s pointless, and I’m no good, I’m not talented, and I’m shitty, and I couldn’t do anything but be a Beatle. What am I going to do about it? It lasted nearly two years and I was still in it during Pepper. I know Paul wasn’t at the time; he was feeling full of confidence, and I was going through murder during those periods.

—John Lennon, interview w/ Barry Miles, (partially) unpublished. (September 23rd, 1969)

You can get a picture of how this expectation of implicit understanding between them when mixed with the insecurity in the other’s love they harboured, bred a lot of hurts…

It takes two to tango, of course. I won’t really get into how Paul’s avoidance of his own feelings and implicit expectation that John would know how much he meant to him, without Paul having to look those emotions in the eye for too long or make himself vulnerable by saying them out loud, had a part to play in this. I have touched upon this in other posts and hope to go deeper in the future, but this has run away from me as it is!

It makes me happy that, even if only in retrospect, their approach to this special, magical, cosmic connection they shared evolved from the naive view that the relationship had to carry itself own the back of its own merits, to the more mature understanding that it continues because they want it to continue and work to continue. As John put it: Love is a flower and you have to water it.

Once again, thank you so much for the ask, and forgive me for losing myself completely down this rather angsty rabbit-hole… But feel free to explore the tags for more appreciations of the magical quality of Lennon/McCartney!

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arcanalogue · 5 years ago

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Music For Diviners - ‘Sing As The Crow Flies’

youtube

Whether you’re divining for a querent or just for yourself, the right sonic background can definitely enhance the experience — and for those of us who live in a leaf-blower paradise, sometimes it’s the only way we can concentrate at all.

PLEASE STOP BLOWING THE DUST AROUND!

But I digress. Over the years I’ve gathered a wonderful collection of music to help induce the desired state of mind. Usually I’ll turn it on about 15 or 20 minutes before I start, to calm myself down and begin setting the scene. That includes removing clutter from the space, tending any altars that are starting to look neglected, adjusting the light, taking out the trash... basically addressing anything that might interfere with my sensory experience, setting up my own little chapel, banishing all unwanted influence.

You can’t plan for everything. For example, those Bernie canvassers who knocked on my door last week when I was trying to induce a trance state. I was so disoriented that I didn’t even remember to ask why their candidate had opted out of that LGBTQ panel the night before.

But I digress! Here’s my inaugural recommendation, the relatively recent Sing As The Crow Flies, performed by Laura Cannell and Polly Wright who describe the album as “a set of nine vocal tracks re-voicing the rural landscape, surrounding reed beds and marshes on the Norfolk/Suffolk border.” Or as I characterized it to a friend, “the sound of Mennonite women losing their minds on henbane in an old barn.”

Their work is inspired by this 1872 text: The Norfolk garland: a collection of the superstitious beliefs and practices, proverbs, curious customs, ballads and songs, of the people of Norfolk, as well as anecdotes illustrative of the genius or peculiarities of Norfolk celebrities (archive.org link).

After listening on YouTube, I ended up buying it on iTunes so I could just press Repeat All and let the music float through the house for a couple hours. I also took it with me on a long sunset bike ride along the L.A. River, where I go to visit my own nightshade friends, and it greatly enhanced the solitude of the experience.

Here’s some great corvid trivia for you: the constellation Corvus is made up of four main stars, named ALCHIBA (meaning ”the tent”), GIENAH (”wing”), ALGORAB (”the crow”), MINKAR (”beak”), and a fifth star named KRAZ.

But no one seems to know for sure what KRAZ refers to! In his 1889 book Star Names, Richard Hinckley Allen wrote:

“No meaning is given for this name, but to me the word 'kraz' seems be an Arabic version of Latin cras. The cawing of the ravens or crows was heard as 'Cras! Cras!' by Latin speakers, and was thought to mean ‘Tomorrow! Tomorrow!’ We get the word procrastinate, 'postpone until the morrow', from Latin cras. Mythology identifies Corvus with the procrastinating raven Apollo sent to fetch water, and tells how he dallied at a fig tree until the figs became ripe before carrying out the god's task.“

So while humans took the liberty of naming the other stars, KRAZ was effectively named in the birds’ own language.

But I digress! Sometimes vocal tracks can be very jarring when you’re trying to concentrate, but since Sing As The Crow Flies is a cappella, and the singers’ voices so ethereal and susurrant, I’ve found it quite useful as a backdrop for ritual work, especially divination.

Obviously everyone’s tastes and needs will be different — but that’s why you should be sure to follow the Music For Diviners tag in coming weeks, because in time it will accrue a wide range of awareness-sharpening (and noise-canceling) musical selections.

That’s all for now. A million thanks to those who sought me out on Instagram and Patreon in the past few days! Here’s to many new and exciting things to come.

#music for diviners #tarot #tarot cards #divination #tarot reading #sing as the crow flies #corvus #kraz

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probably-not-star-lord · 6 years ago

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Surprise Date (Tony Stark x Reader)

A/N: I know I said I would be posting a lot this weekend but I was unexpectedly very busy so at least there is a little content from me :)

Request: Hello there! I was wondering if you could do a Tony Stark x Reader fanfic? One where the reader got stood up by someone else and he is there to comfort them? I'm bad at this, sorry. -.-

Prompt: You’re excited for the first date you’re going on in a long time. But when your date doesn’t show up, you’re surprised to see the person you wanted to go on a date with all along.

Warnings: swearing, fluff

You sit at the beautifully set dinner table shaking your leg anxiously. Your date was supposed to arrive a half an hour ago. The man you're expecting has been working at SHIELD for years. Being one of the top agents, you ran into him quite often. He’s cute, friendly, and knows how to make you laugh. When he asked you out to dinner a few days ago you happily agreed, even if this flirtatious coworker isn't necessarily the man you have your eyes on.

No, the man you long to be with is none other than Tony Stark.

You and Tony have been the best of friends for a very long time. Ever since you started working at SHIELD you’ve have the biggest crush on him. You started out merely as an intern, and Tony was the one who talked you up Nick Fury in order for you to be promoted. Now you have the job of your dreams all thanks to your crush. However, you know he would never feel the same way. Tony is Iron Man for fuck’s sake, he could have any girl he wants. If only the girl he wanted were you.

More time passes as you sit in the fancy restaurant dreaming about Tony. Your date has still not arrived and your anxiety levels are increasing by the second. The wine glass in front of you is slowly draining as you sip it every once in a while to ease the tension between you and the empty chair seated across from you. The waiters steal glances at you as you eye the door in anticipation. Soon an entire hour has passed with you sitting all alone.

The waiter approaches your table and gives you the most sincere smile he can muster in a time where you clearly need comfort. “Ma’am, are you ready to order?”

“Not yet,” you reply, shaking your head. “I’m still waiting on someone.”

“Are you sure they’re coming?” he asks, trying to remain as polite as possible.

You grit your teeth in anger at his presumptuous question. “He’ll be here.”

“Right, okay, just let me know when you’re ready,” he says before walking away in a hurry.

You burry your face in your hands in embarrassment. How could you get stood up? It’s not even like you’re really into your date, you only agreed to go out with him because you wanted to give him a chance. You let a few more minutes go by before officially deciding your date is never going to show up. Your eyes wander around the tables as you spot happy couples devouring their delicious meals or clinking their glasses together with a laugh. Those interactions are something you desperately want. They’re moments you desire to share with Tony.

The waiter makes his way over to your table once more. His hands are clasped together and you notice he has his fake smile on again. “Ma’am...”

You roll your eyes before checking the door one last time. “Yeah, I know,” you mutter. The waiter nods and steps back so you can stand from your chair.

“I’m here! I’m here! Don’t worry!”

You and the waiter turn toward the front door that was just thrown open. Tony stands there yelling and making a scene as he jogs over to your table. “Tony?” you ask, raising an eyebrow at your friend.

“I apologize for how late I am, darling, but I’m here now,” he replies, taking a seat in the chair across from you.

“Mr. Stark, is there anything I can get for you, sir?”

“We’re going to have your finest bottle of champagne, please,” he retorts with a grin.

“Certainly, sir,” the waiter acknowledges before dashing to the kitchen.

“You look rather fine this evening, Y/N,” Tony flirts as his eyes wander up and down your frame. He smiles at you from across the table and you meet his mischievous gaze.

“Tony...” You lean forward and keep your voice low. “What are you doing here?”

“Obviously I’m here for our date.”

“Well...I...I just wasn’t...” you stutter, unable to compose a complete sentence.

“You weren't expecting your date to be me?”

You shake your head with a laugh. “I guess not.”

“Listen,” he starts, his tone more serious now. “I saw the agent that asked you out back at Avengers Tower. He had no intentions of coming tonight, Y/N, I’m sorry.”

“What was he doing there?” you mumble.

“Well,” Tony scoffs, his brown eyes falling on the door. “He was busy flirting with one of the new interns.”

“Oh...”

“I had both of their asses fired.”

Your eyes widen. “You did? Why?”

Tony smiles, his eyes locking with yours. “Because I don’t want anyone who hurts you to be working for me,” he asserts.

“Thanks, Tony,” you reply, a slight blush creeping up to your cheeks. “That means a lot to me.”

“Anytime, kid,” he conveys. “Plus, I like to think I’m much better company.”

“Definitely,” you agree. “You’re much better than that asshole.”

Tony distractedly glances around the open space of the restaurant. “He certainly can’t pick a place for a proper date.”

“Tony this is the nicest restaurant in this part of the city,” you defend.

“I don’t like it here. I’m going to take you somewhere that we’d actually enjoy,” he declares, standing from his seat. You stand up as well and Tony extends his hand to you. As you head for the door you run into the waiter who is carrying the bottle of champagne Tony ordered. “We’re going to be taking that to go.”

The waiter hands him the bottle. “Of course, sir. Shall I put it on your tab?”

“That would be great, thanks,” Tony calls as he escorts you outside.

You stop walking as Tony pops open the bottle. “So you don’t like that restaurant yet somehow you have a tab there?” you ask, crossing your arms.

“Well, I get dinner there sometimes but I don’t think it’s for us, you know?”

“Us?”

“Yes...us.” Tony nods, taking a swig from the bottle and handing it to you. “I know a place you’ll like a whole lot better.”

You and Tony walk along the empty, city streets hand in hand, passing each other champagne every once in a while for a quick sip. He intends on taking you to a different place to eat and he comes to a halt right outside a burger joint. He holds his hands up high, displaying the front of the restaurant to you with a goofy grin on his face.

“This is the place?” you chuckle. Tony nods eagerly. “I love it.”

Tony leads you through the doors and drops you off in a brightly colored booth. You drink from the champagne bottle as you watch Tony order two burgers and fries at the front register. You admire the way he communicates with people so nicely and confidently. Those are the qualities you love about Tony and they play a huge part in why you fell for him in the first place. It’s unbelievable to you that Tony is so kind to the point where he is willing to help out a friend that just got stood up. Not only that, but he took you to a place where you and him can have fun. You shake your head and gulp down another sip from the drink, knowing Tony Stark has you in so much trouble.

He returns a few minutes later with your meal. The two of you eat the greasy food, enjoying every second of it. You down almost the entire bottle of alcohol and it’s evident you’re both getting increasingly tipsy after every gulp. Tony tells you hilarious stories and cracks jokes that make you laugh so hard it hurts. He listens to you share anecdotes about your life and loves hearing the way you talk about your friends and family. You lose track of time and soon you’re being kicked out of the restaurant as it closes.

Tony stumbles beside you on the sidewalk as the two of you giggle from the drunkenness. He notices you shivering in the cold air of the night and removes his suit jacket, wrapping it around your bare shoulders. You offer him an adoring smile. “Thanks, Tony.”

He brushes it off. “No problem.”

“No, really,” you say. “Thank you so much for everything tonight.”

“You don’t need to thank me, “ he clarifies. “I...I wanted...to come tonight and I ended up having an even better time than expected.”

You grin at his words, your cheeks heating up at the thought of knowing Tony enjoyed a date with you. You know it isn’t because of the alcohol or the fact that you and Tony are great friends, this is truly genuine. He takes your hand again as you walk, nearing your apartment building. You come to a stop and turn to look at Tony when you reach your home.

“Well...this is me.”

“I really did have a wonderful time with you tonight, Y/N,” he reassures.

“So did I,” you respond, looking deep into his brown eyes.

“I’d definitely like to take you out again sometime...” he adds, glancing down at your lips. “...on another date.”

Your eyes fall on his lips as well and the two of you lean forward slowly. His soft lips fall onto yours gently for a sweet, loving kiss. The kiss quickly grows deeper and more passionate as he brings a hand up to the side of your face to pull you closer into him. When he pulls away you can tell he is reluctant. Your eyes remain closed and you can hear him catching his breath.

“Goodnight, Tony,” you whisper with a grin. You slowly back away from him towards your building.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He returns your smile and walks off excitedly with confident steps. You’re so thankful that you got stood up tonight.

permanent tag list:

@lolabean1998 @thisismysecrethappyplace @crazystarlady

marvel tag list:

@verkyun

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klywrites · 5 years ago

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a note on RS1 and RSverse

(This is probably relatively minor news, especially because I’ve hardly posted any actual content and RS is hard to keep track of anyway.)

At this point, I feel it best to semi-shelve RS1-1 while I take a different approach to the series as a whole.

Nothing much will change, really. I'll still be updating and writing about #rsverse, but I probably won't be working on Book One, at least not in the form that was initially established.

Instead, I'll be working on the characters' stories separately, like a series of deep anecdotes. They all take place in RSverse, hence why the tag will still be active.

Generally, since its conception about ten years ago, RSverse was always meant to be a project of exploration into the thoughts, feelings, and lives of my characters. I like introspection, character studies, details into their everyday lives, more drama and less action -- often what you find in literary fiction -- but in fantasy settings.

Those who've stuck with me for awhile are probably aware by now how much I've been struggling with plot. Fact is, I was never really interested in writing plot. At least, not the epic world-saving kind of plots, and not to the extent in details and focus that such plots require. But I tried to make plot work, I tried to build one up and weave it into the complexities of my characters’ personal lives, because I felt that I absolutely had to have a Big Plot. But I couldn’t get plot to work with me.

And as some of you may have already seen, my writing is very slow-paced and I often write about the mundane -- boring, but that’s what I enjoy. I have been eager to write about my characters' personal lives outside of the plot, but didn't allow myself to fully engage because the plot was an enormous mess that I felt I needed to take care of before anything else. It's why I kept getting stuck. But it wasn't just that the plot was complicated, and it wasn't that I didn't like the plot; I simply didn't want to bother with plot because I wasn't interested in plot to begin with!

I also struggled because I have a lot of characters whose lives I wanted to explore, but many of whom have little-to-nothing to do with the overarching plot. In that sense, these characters wouldn't need POV chapters of their own because they'd disrupt the cohesion of the novel, so I've had to cut them out or demote them. But with the new approach I'll be taking, I can follow the life of a farmer if I want to. I can follow Adreis on her journey to becoming a healer. I can finally write Serrell's story and not worry about its relevance to the main plot. I can justify promoting Aleister to a POV character again, even though he doesn’t really “do anything” when it comes to plot -- because plot won’t be the focus anymore. I can explore the relationship between Alduros and Mythia without worrying whether it’s relevant or not.

It just makes sense to move in this direction. None of my characters (aside from maybe 2 or 3 in a cast of 20+) are even battle savvy, in a world where wars are happening and calls to action are bountiful. They pretty much just want to get away from it all and live peaceful, mundane lives in the valley with their little dragons.

So basically, I'll be writing RSverse stories, but they'll be more slice of life or literary. I'll be able to focus on the characters, their experiences, and the world they live in. The main plot may be sprinkled into the stories, but it will not be the focus -- unless that approach becomes necessary later on down the road.

As for structure, I don't know yet. As I progress I'll post updates on each story, including titles and such.

#rsverse #process.#slice of life fantasy #literary fantasy #[illanthys]

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csnews · 6 years ago

Photo

Scientists to team up with whale-watching crews

Rodrigo Pérez Ortega - February 3, 2019

One recent foggy morning, Kate Spencer stirred the calm waters of Moss Landing Harbor when she arrived aboard the black, 33-foot boat she “drives” to work.

After picking up her six passengers, Spencer, owner of Fast Raft Ocean Safaris, steered the whale-watching boat to the center of the underwater Monterey Canyon while continuously glancing at her fish-finder radar. If the device spotted a large school of fish –– most likely anchovies –– that meant whales could be nearby.

Next to the radar, the boat captain kept a camera at the ready.

Scientists who study the behavior of whales say photos such as Spencer’s carry valuable information. So the scientists are now turning to whale-watching businesses and their customers for help gathering critical data needed to keep whale populations healthy.

“There’s so much that we don’t know about whales that any data is welcome,” said Jeremy Goldbogen, an assistant professor of biology at Stanford’s Hopkins Marine Station in Pacific Grove. “Even if it’s just a photograph of a fluke with a time and a place, that would be fantastic.”

Since ancient times, Monterey Bay has served as a popular stop for hundreds of whales migrating along the California coast. The giant marine mammals now attract tourists from all over the world hoping to witness the whales filling their bellies with krill and other sea life.

But the majestic creatures face a slew of troubles once they get here: collisions with ships, urban and maritime noise, entanglements with fishing lines, and the effects of climate change –– which is making the oceans warmer and more acidic, reducing food supplies.

Worried about the whales’ fate, scientists are trying to collect as much data as they can to understand how the behavior of whales has changed over the years. The researchers say they also need to learn a lot more about how the whales feed and interact with each other in the bay.

In this first-ever collaboration with scientists in local waters, whale-watching crews and their customers will use GPS locations and photographs to document their sightings. This will help researchers determine how whales move and keep themselves fed, revealing how healthy they are. It will also aid the scientists in coming up with recommendations for improving conservation efforts, such as better management of fisheries and identifying the best locations for shipping lanes to avoid deadly collisions.

Ari Friedlaender, a marine biologist at UC Santa Cruz, recently began reaching out to whale-watching crews and is now organizing workshops with them to establish the best way to log whale-sighting data.

“The whale-watching industry is really critical for us because the crews have all of this knowledge about where animals are at different times in the year,” said Friedlaender, co-founder of the California Ocean Alliance, a nonprofit dedicated to protecting marine mammals.

Humpback whales were hunted to near-extinction in the Pacific Ocean during the 1800s and throughout most of the 1900s. But ever since the humpbacks received federal protection a half-century ago, their numbers have been steadily increasing.

The last several years, however, have been a tough time for whales migrating up and down the West Coast. The worst year was 2016, when officials discovered 71 whales entangled in fishing gear –– the highest number ever recorded. Although 2017 was a better year, with 31 reported entanglements, preliminary numbers for last year indicate that 45 whales were found entangled –– 35 of them in California waters.

In 2017, scientists estimate, the number of blue whales killed by ship collisions on the West Coast was almost eight times higher than the acceptable threshold under the U.S. Marine Mammal Protection Act. For humpback whales, the number of collisions was twice that threshold.

Goldbogen and Friedlaender began aggressively studying the whales of Monterey Bay two years ago, setting out on small, inflatable boats to look for the animals. When they find one, they carefully attach a “tag,” a device with suction cups that not only records video but also the depth, speed and even the heart rate of the whales. The tags fall off within 24 to 48 hours.

“You just put this on their back, and the whales basically do the job for you,” Friedlaender said.

The recordings provide a “whale diary” for scientists –– revealing how each whale moves, what it eats and how it communicates with other whales, he said. The research team also takes aerial photographs to gauge the size of the whales, an important measurement of health.

The team conducts this research only a few times during the year, however, because it’s expensive and several months are needed for a seven-person team to analyze the data gathered from each diary.

But a small flotilla of whale-watching boats ventures out into the Monterey Bay every day.

“They’re passionate about what they do,” Friedlaender said of boat captains like Spencer. “They’re out on the water all day looking at animals, understanding these animals.”

Spencer, a Pacific Grove resident, said she often recognizes individual whales and takes photographs when they show off their flukes, which serve as “whale fingerprints” because they are unique to each animal.

A former scientific illustrator, Spencer has led whale-watching tours in Monterey Bay for 18 years. During this time, she has developed a special relationship with whales, while gaining a wealth of anecdotal evidence on how the animals behave in the bay.

On one recent tour, Spencer spotted a male humpback with a gash on its crooked dorsal fin. She dubbed him Notch 12 years ago and has spotted him nearly every year since — and his name has affectionately morphed into Nacho.

“I’m watching the whales every day, getting to know the personalities of every individual, watching them grow up and start having calves,” Spencer said.

Several customers on recent whale-watching tours expressed excitement about the new collaboration.

“I think it’s so incredibly important,” said Heather Gillette, 48, an entrepreneur from Woodside. “I think it’s cool to leverage all of the different people who witness all of the whale activity, taking that knowledge and putting it all in a central place to track the whales or identify them.”

By gathering the data from whale-watching crews that have been diligent about keeping records over the past three to four decades, scientists will be able to look back to determine what species of whales are in Monterey Bay at different times of the year and how that has changed over the years.

Although the crews didn’t have GPS or fancy digital cameras until recent years, they logged their whale sightings with pens and paper –– records that scientists hope to soon digitalize.

Friedlaender said that these historical logs could reveal arrival and departure patterns of migrating whales, allowing researchers to determine how those patterns correlate to the abundance of prey or water temperature changes.

“We can start to show that over time those things have shifted,” he said. “That can be a really big red flag –– an indicator of change in the ecosystem.”

Scientists suspect that humpback whales have spent their time very close to shore in recent summers. While this is great for tourists, Friedlaender said, it might not be a good sign for the bay’s health. It could be an indication that their food is closer to the shore, meaning that perhaps there’s not a lot of food in the middle of the bay because of overfishing –– or warming waters.

The new data might end up proving that the scientists’ theory is right. And that could result in new policies for commercial fisheries being put into place.

The whale-watching businesses will also benefit from the data compiled by scientists because it will help crews provide their customers with more complete life histories of the whales they spot.

An example of how photographs from the whale watchers can be used for research can be seen at Happywhale.com, a website where people can upload whale-sighting images and coordinates. An automated process will then identify the whale.

“When you start talking about hundreds or thousands of photos, there’s real value there,” said Ted Cheeseman, a local conservation biologist who developed the website in 2015. “And what’s great about Monterey Bay is that there are so many whales and so many whale-watching vessels.”

Spencer, who has contributed nearly 7,000 of her photographs to Happywhale.com, said the site gives whale-watching customers a chance to know that they’re contributing something to the protection of the animals.

“It’s neat that I can look up the whales that we saw, like Nacho,” Gillette said. “When we do whale-watching again, I would want to say, ‘Oh, that’s him –– he’s back this year!’”

For Gillette, however, the collaboration between scientists and whale-watching businesses is about much more than just being able to know more about her favorite whales. A wildlife enthusiast, Gillette said she knows that conservation projects can work, pointing to the recovery of the West Coast’s humpback whale population. And she finds that inspiring.

Said Gillette: “I feel like despite all the changes in the environment, there are a lot of efforts like this one that are actually paying off.”

#news #wild #cetacean #whale #research #whale watching #long article

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writingquestionsanswered · 7 years ago

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Hello. Do you have any advice on how to promote yourself as an author via social media like writing blogs? I'm struggling greatly to keep myself active in any of these because I don't know what to share. My life isn't very interesting and any free time I have for writing I spend working on my novel so I also don't have any extra short stories to share like some guides tell me to do and I don't want to post many details about my novel before publishing it. Thanks in advance.

Guide: How to Promote Yourself as a Writer/Author via Social Media

1) First and Foremost, Don’t Overthink It.

I’m starting here, because this is a subject that can be very overwhelming, but it doesn’t have to be. Some writers/authors seem to have limitless time to dedicate to social media, but most of us don’t, and that’s okay. It’s better to prioritize your writing, but there are things you can do to work social media into your routine. Also, don’t feel like everything you post has to be related to writing, your writing life, or some super interesting event or adventure. Content is content. It can be just about anything.2) Your Main Social Media Options, Just to Get Them Out there- Tumblr- Facebook- Twitter- Instagram- Pintrest- YouTube- Goodreads- Google Plus- Writer/Author Blog2) Get to Know Your FavoritesIt’s better to have good visibility on a few platforms than it is to spread yourself thin across all of them. Even if you set up accounts on all of them, you don’t have to be active on all of them. Focus on the ones that work best for you, even if it’s only two or three of them. I recommend choosing at least two, if not three, then dedicate a week to each one. Set up your account (if you haven’t already), find and follow other writers/authors, especially in your genre. (Hashtags are helpful for this. Google will provide lists of hashtags for writers/authors on each platform.) Try to spend ten to fifteen minutes a day on that week’s chosen platform. Make a post, then spend some time liking and commenting on the posts in your feed. This helps to build relationships with other writers. And don’t be bashful. Anyone who has a public writer/author page is hoping for likes and comments, even from people they don’t know yet.3) Choose a Primary Platform and Stick with ItAs the saying goes, “Jack of all trades, master of none.” The same is true of social media, so even once you’ve narrowed the field down to your favorite two or three platforms, you may want to choose one that you use daily, for ten to fifteen minutes per day. Then, try to dedicate a little time to the other two, maybe on the weekends.

4) What to Do About Content

It depends on the platform, obviously, but here are some ideas:

Re-Blogs/Re-Posts: - writing advice/tips- writing-related quotes- motivational quotes- book/reading related quotes- pictures that relate to what you write- pictures that inspire what you want to write- pictures that relate to reading/writing- posts from other writers/authors that are shareable- writing/reading related memes- aesthetics of your favorite books

Original Posts:- personal writing-related anecdotes- writing tip/advice posts (share what you know!)- photos of your writing space/reading area- pictures of handwritten quotes or tips that you want to share- aesthetics of your WIP- photos of coffee, tea, stationery, books, pets, nature- your monthly goals- end of month review of which goals you completed and which you didn’tTags/Challenges/Questionnaires:- “tag” challenges are sort of like hashtag photo prompts. Search for an existing tag challenge or create your own and tag your followers to join you.- monthly photo challenges give you a prompt for each day. These can be related to books/reading, writing, both, or anything else.- prompt challenges inspire daily short poetry or micro fiction- you’ve seen questionanaires here and probably on facebook, too. Often you can find some geared toward reading and writing.Book Reviews, Movie Reviews, TV Show Reviews, Video Game Reviews- book reviews make for great content. It doesn’t have to be anything long and drawn out. Just a picture of the book, how many stars you give it, and a few things that you liked (or didn’t like) about it. - did you watch a movie over the weekend that you really enjoyed? Tell your followers about it in a spoiler-free review.- did you binge-watch a new TV show? Let others know about it with a spoiler-free review.- did you play a new computer, phone, or video game? Talk about it!Support Other Writers/Authors:- if a writer/author you admire or follow posts something you can help promote, do it! For example, maybe an indie author your friends with has just posted that their book is on sale this week. Sharing that can promote audience sharing between you and them, it gives you content for the day, and it’s awesome to support other writers/authors, especially indies.Arts, Crafts, DIY, Cooking, Adventures, and Other Hobbies- share your grandmother’s recipe for pumpkin pie- share a picture of the sweater you’re knitting along with your three favorite knitting tips and tricks.- share a picture of your bujo or planner layout for the month- share a picture of the cabinets you re-finished and talk about what the process was like.- share pictures and stories from the antiquing road trip you took over the weekend.- share a picture of the painting you’ve been working on.- share a picture of the room you cleaned out along with some de-cluttering tips- share a pretty picture of a flower you took on your afternoon walkSpend some time looking at the content of other writers/authors on the platform you want to focus on. This is a great way to see what’s most common, what you can mimic, and what you can jump in on.5) Set Up a Schedule

Whether you focus on one platform or three, it can sometimes help to set up a posting schedule. For example:Monday - Blog post on author blogTuesday - Re-tweet two or three writing-related tweets on TwitterWednesday - Post a writing/book related photo on InstagramThursday - Re-blog writing tip on TumblrFriday - BreakSaturday - Twitter re-tweetsSunday - Instagram tag challengeThat’s just an example, of course. If you focus on one social media platform, it might look more like this…Facebook Posting Schedule:Monday - Re-post writing adviceTuesday - Post writing/reading related quoteWednesday - Share personal writing tipThursday - Link to interesting writing-related articleFriday - Book reviewSaturday - Picture from weekend adventureSunday - Break6) Social Media Management Apps

If you’re still feeling overwhelmed, you may want to look into a social media management app like Hootsuite, Pagemodo, or Sprout Social. (There are many others, too.) These sometimes cost money, but they can be well worth it if you need help managing your social media presence. Ultimately, these allow you to plan out posts in advance, so instead of worrying about it every day, you take maybe an hour every week to pre-plug in all your tweets and other posts for the week. When you see writers/authors who seem to post on all social media every day, this is generally how they do it.7) Don’t Neglect your Writer/Author Blog

Last but not least, make sure you set up a writer/author blog and try to make a post in it at least once a month. Not only will this give you content you can share on the platforms you focus on, but it’s a great way to keep track of your writing journey and to keep your growing audience up-to-date with the latest news. Even just a short post to talk about your progress for the month and your goals for the next month is better than nothing.8) Try to Relax and Have Fun with It

It may take you a little while to establish a routine that you’re comfortable with, but it will happen eventually. Just remember not to overthink things and not to feel like you have to do everything. Like I said, it’s better to choose one platform and post on it every two or three days than it is to be sporadic on all the platforms. Just do the best you can, and it’ll all make sense in time. :)

#writing #writing tips #writing advice #writing help #writing-questions-answered #wqa #wqaadvice #wqaguide

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bytheangell · 6 years ago

Text

Support System - Chapter 5

When Alec's favorite show gets cancelled and he takes to messaging customer service repeatedly to show his support, he doesn't expect to connect so well with the support representative he keeps getting paired off with. (Read it from the start on AO3!)

Alec feels the heat in his face as he stutters something out - he isn’t even sure what at this point because his brain shut down entirely in his flustered panic. But the attractive man he spilled coffee on like a total klutz is still smiling, laughing and shrugging and disappearing into the coffee shop with a wink. The thought occurs to him to follow - to buy him a coffee, at least. But he remembers how late he’s already running, and it’s the easiest excuse to cling to as he turns to leave.

Still, his thoughts linger on the man - those dark brown eyes that seemed to flash with flecks of gold when the light caught them (though he never make eye contact long enough to tell if it was just the light playing tricks on him), the way the sleeves of his dress shirt clung to his impressively large biceps, and how the tailored plum vest he wore over it suited him so perfectly. And those maroon highlights in his hair…

...the blush was back on Alec’s face even though he is now an entire block away. He needs to stop. It isn’t like he can go out for drinks in the city his entire family lives in! He didn’t have a choice but to say no; what if someone sees him? Izzy is the only one who knows he’s gay, and if his brothe,r or parents, or even any of his parent’s friend’s see him out and say something… he just isn’t ready for that. But it still feels nice to be hit on, even if he did chicken out on the follow-through.

So he forces the thoughts from his mind the best he can as he steps through the door of the shop. Or at least he thinks he does.

“...what happened?” Izzy asks immediately.

“What?” He asks, confused, placing his coffee and bag down on the nearest counter.

“Your face is right red and you have a dopey grin on your face.”

Shit.

“Oh, I ran into someone at the coffee shop. Literally. I spilled coffee on them and it was embarrassing and we’re going to pretend it never happened now.”

“And on a scale of 1 to 10, how hot was he?”

“Izzy.” He chastises, rolling his eyes, but when he’s met with nothing more than crossed arms and a defiant stare he sighs. “11.” And since he knows she won’t let it go that easily he pauses only briefly before adding (and not without a hint of satisfaction). “I offered to pay to have his shirt cleaned and he said I could pay him back with a drink instead.”

“You got a date?” Isabelle asks incredulously, but Alec shakes his head quickly before she can get her hopes up too high.

“No. I said I couldn’t and left.” He sees the disappointment all over her face. “You know I can’t, Iz. If someone saw-” “I know, I know.” And her tone is understanding but laced with sadness. “I can’t tell you how to live your life, big brother, but I’ve said it once and I’ll say it a thousand more times if I have to - you deserve to be happy. No one who matters is going to judge you for that. And if they do, I’ll kick their asses.”

“I know you will,” he says with a fond smile. “Thanks.” He braces himself for more but Isabelle drops it there and the Lightwood siblings get to work opening the store.

The day passes by slowly and uneventfully after that, and Alec is back home and falling into what is quickly becoming a new routine. Eat, sleep, wake up to a midnight alarm so he can catch a chat or two with Magnus, universe willing. The queues are down to 3 or so minutes each time now, still holding strong, and he passes the time in between by sending out tweets and e-mails, and writing brief exchanges with the first two support reps he gets connected to who aren’t Magnus, until:

Support: You are Chatting with Magnus B. Magnus: Just the name I wanted to see. Alec: Hello again to you, too. Magnus: One of these times I’m going to come across another Alec L. and things are going to get hilariously awkward. Alec: You could always use a regular greeting, you know. Magnus: Where’s the fun in that? I like living on the edge. Alec: I wish I had some of that mentality. Magnus: You can take some of mine. I have plenty to go around. Alec: Heh, thanks. Alec: Any word on the show? Magnus: Unfortunately, nothing new on my end. Same old blanket statement. Alec: Damn. Alec: Sorry, can I curse in here? Probably not. Magnus: If you think you’re the first person to swear in a customer service chat, boy do I have news for you. Alec: Good point. So where are you in Season 2 now?

They chat about the show for a few minutes before Alec realizes he’s still far too tired for this right now. Every time he blinks his eyes stay shut for longer and longer, and it isn’t like Magnus doesn’t have an actual job to do here. Alec: Well, I should let you get back to work. Maybe I’ll try and pop back in later. Magnus: I hope you do. This chat has ended.

Alec decides to try and sleep the rest of the night and wake up early enough to catch Magnus before the end of his shift in the morning. A plan that would’ve worked great if a massive rumble of thunder followed by a tremor that rattled his entire apartment didn’t wake him up at 2:34 am, and try as he might he just can’t fall back asleep. He pulls his laptop off of the bedside table and boots it up, browsing through the #SaveTheHunt tags for a few minutes before donating to a fundraiser set up in the campaign’s name for an amazing LGBTQ+ Nonprofit. And then, when it becomes clear he isn’t about to fall asleep any time soon, he decides to try the support chat again.

This time there is no queue, which is good, because it takes three tries to get to Magnus.

Support: You are Chatting with Magnus B. Magnus: Welcome back. Alec: I couldn’t sleep, and this seemed better than tossing and turning for another hour. Magnus: Not that I’m glad you can’t sleep, but it’s been an uncharacteristically quiet night here. I thought I’d be glad to see things die down but I kinda miss it. Alec: I’m sure it’ll pick back up. We’re far from giving up - in fact, there was a new fundraising campaign started today in the show’s name, benefitting LGBTQ+ youth in honor of all the representation and impact the show has in the community. Magnus: That’s amazing! I’ll have to check that out after work. I’d be remiss not to give back in honor of the positive bisexual showing so far. It isn’t often you find something in pop culture that goes out of its way to give us such a good rep. Alec: Oh, you’re bi? Magnus: Sorry, tmi. Alec: No, it’s cool. Alec: That’s cool.

Alec hesitates, hands hovering over the keyboard as he thinks back to earlier at his desire to live on the edge a little more. To the missed opportunity at the coffee shop. To Isabelle telling him that he deserves to be himself. His pulse is racing, but that’s stupid, because it’s just a word. It’s just a word to a person who doesn’t even know him. A person he’ll never meet. And there’s a certain safety in the anonymity of the internet, isn’t there? He’s just a name here, and not an uncommon one at that. He can be anyone, anywhere. And if he can’t bring himself to type the words to a stranger on the internet how will he ever say them out loud to the people around him? It seems like the perfect starting point.

What does he really have to lose?

He takes a deep breath and starts to type.

Alec: I told my sister I was gay after watching the first two seasons with her, so I get it. It’s important. Seeing the support the everyone gave, even after the whole wedding fiasco, had a huge impact on me. I’m not sure I ever would’ve done it otherwise. Magnus: Oh wow. That is big. Congratulations! Alec: Thanks, but it isn’t that impressive. I’m 22 and she’s the only one I ever told. Magnus: Everyone moves at their own pace. I’m sure you’ll get there.

Alex exhales the breath he didn’t realize he’s holding. Admitting that truth about himself to someone other than Isabelle is so freeing, no matter what the context, and Alec feels a small sense of peace settle over him. Nothing as intense as what he felt talking to Isabelle, but nice in its own way.

The conversation seems to flow so easily after that, and Alec forgets his nerves almost entirely. They talk about a mixture of personal anecdotes and things from the show (with Alec carefully treading around spoilers from things beyond the point Magnus stopped at in his reactions and replies) for much longer than Alec realizes, both of them losing track of time. It starts to feel like he’s talking to a close friend rather than some faceless stranger across the internet when the tone of Magnus’ text takes a sudden, abrupt turn.

Magnus: I need you to end this chat right now, but I promise I’ll explain later. Alec: What? Magnus: Please. This chat has ended.

And Alec sits there, feeling a bit lost and more than a little confused, staring at the blank screen of the ended conversation. It is difficult to pick up on intonations through written word, but he could sense the urgency behind Magnus’ request enough to not question it. But something uneasy sits in the pit of his stomach as he wonders if he said something wrong. They talked a lot more this time, and about personal things, not just the show. But it all seemed alright at the time. So what happened? What changed?

Alec wonders exactly when ‘later’ is - if he’s supposed to try to talk to him again right away, or in an hour, or maybe not for the rest of the night? He has nothing to go off of. He resolves to wait at least an hour but before the time is up he dozes off, and doesn’t wake back up until the sunlight is already pouring in through the window. What time is it? Maybe he can still catch--

But the clock reads 8:05, and Alec’s heart drops. Magnus’ shift is over, and if he’s going to get any answers he’ll have to wait for them now.

#malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #isabelle lightwood #shadowhunters #fanfiction #sh fic #sh fanfic #malec fanficion #HERE WE GO CHAPTER FIVE #I wrote this earlier today but I had to rush to work so I didn't get to throw it on tumblr until now #this isn't how i intended to end the chapter but this story has a life of its own when I sit down to write and I love it #elle writes a few deadbeat lines

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