#I’ve pondered this for like a week... :’D

[margareth-lv]

⛓️ When art and life become one ⛓️

I believe fairy tales have a great deal of therapeutic power. And there's nothing quite like a good story.

As I’ve written here a few times before, I first started watching Outlander in 2020 – a challenging year for us all. At that time, we all needed a good story to take our minds off reality. And to move into the catharsis that art offers. You can imagine my excitement when I realised that two actors (who were so obviously in love) playing the characters in the story were born around the same time as the characters they were playing.

James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser, born on 1 May. Sam Roland Heughan, born on 30 April. Both Taurus, just like me. Claire Beauchamp Randall Fraser, born on 20 October. Caitríona Mary Balfe, born on 4 October. Both Libra.

And, as you might expect, in both the play and real life, she is older than he is. Isn't it wonderful how things just fall into place sometimes? There’s always something to ponder, think about and enjoy.

But it's been a while since we've seen joy in "enjoy." The Taylor Swift concert is the exception that proves the rule, here.

I'm getting tired of the low-level storytelling we've been presented with for a while now. This story is the worst of the worst. It’s a pretty poor selection of C, D, and E cinema.

And it's pretty sad how two people, who literally built their relative public recognisability on being the 'hottest couple on the screen', are now pathetically role-playing their supposed 'real love lives'. And neither of them succeeds. They're also pretty weak actors in their roles of romantic lovers (I'm thinking mainly of Sam here). Let me just say that they're not pathetic only when they're together. *** *** *** When I saw the blurry, embarrassing footage from this weekend's Giorgio Armani Tennis Classic (tagged #ad on Sam's Instagram), my first thought was that it was a spectacle for us, our Tumblr fandom. There's no one else who would be interested in something you have to look for with a magnifying glass, zooming in, spending long minutes stopping frames of film. Then I got reminded about the Wimbledon Tennis Championships back in July 2019 and another poor performances by 'bride' and her 'groom' a month before their 'wedding'.

Do you remember those pictures?

First wife, second wife, Claire Beauchamp Randall Fraser and Laoghaire MacKenzie, I mean, Evie Greenwood, a primary teacher.

You know, realism and art all blend together.

We first saw this kind of kissing being reduced to sucking on the partner's upper lip in what we were forced to think was Sam’s ‘real life’, and then we saw the same thing on screen.

And what about Sam's somewhat embarrassing performance in The Couple Next Door? Which other actor in that film has exposed themselves so much (and so pointlessly), in a literal sense?

How many of us thought Sam's performance in the erotic scenes in TCND was not sexy at all, but disgusting?

I did.

Wasn't that display of Sam's rhythmically moving buttocks as distasteful as his other performance a few weeks ago?

Seriously, I would never want my husband/partner/father of my children to behave like this. There's no money worth it. But maybe there is.

Sometimes I feel sorry for them, sometimes I don't. Sometimes I remind myself of how jealous Cait can be.

How on earth do they manage to live like that?

[3 July, 2024]

[stanchett]

Hi! I saw your post asking for prompts, so here's one for you, if you'd like. ☺️

Out of all of Nevermore's traditions, Larissa disliked Staff Bonding Nights the most. She preferred to drink her wine alone in her office instead of in a loud bar, thank you very much. But thanks to the new addition to the staff, maybe this time it wouldn't be that bad of an evening...

Here you go!! Thanks for the request, I hope you enjoy!!! :)

I owe a massive thank-you to @pro-weems-places for editing this for me, it was written at 1am and required much revision.

Black and White

Warnings: NSFW, alcohol use

Word count: 3.4k+

Your laptop screen glowed a bright white in your dark bedroom, the seemingly endless stream of emails welcoming you to the Nevermore staff taking up the open tab. The most recent one caught your attention the moment you read the subject line, “Staff Bonding Night at the Weathervane”, written in bold black letters. 

“That could be fun, I suppose...” you pondered to yourself while scrolling through Netflix for something to watch. 

Normally, you were more of an introvert, but you were determined to come out of your shell a bit in light of your new position at the school. You turned in for the night, shutting your laptop and curling up in bed with a nature documentary, unaware of what the following evening would bring.

--------

The next morning was a bit of a drag as you roamed the hallways of the school, nearly getting lost (again) as it was only your second week. It was still early, about an hour before your class was supposed to start. Rounding a corner, you almost run head-first into Larissa Weems, the stunning principal you’d hardly stopped thinking about since meeting upon your hiring. She gasped in surprise and stepped back from you, clutching her chest while she caught her breath.

“Oh Principal Weems, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you coming-” you apologized, but a quick wave of her hand dismissed your apology. 

“It’s quite alright, Ms. Y/L/N. Are you lost? You seem a bit turned around.” You blushed at the realization that you definitely were, and nodded in confirmation to her question. 

“Walk with me darling, I’ll show you the way from here,” Larissa offered, and you gratefully accepted. Keeping in stride and making small talk was easy with her, she was so sweet and polite. You wondered if you would see her that evening at the staff gathering. 

“Hey, will you be at the Weathervane tonight? How do those events usually go?” 

Larissa rolled her eyes with a sigh, “Oh yes, that.. I myself am not normally in attendance, but I’ve heard they can be quite fun, according to other staff members. I much prefer my study and a glass of red personally, but to each their own.” 

Your heart sank a bit at her admission, but you tried not to look too defeated. “Why don’t you give it another shot? After all, I’ll be there..” you said in a mock-suggestive tone, secretly hoping she would realize you meant it in a way that wasn’t entirely a joke. 

Just as you delivered your makeshift pickup line, the two of you arrived at your classroom. You stopped at the door and leaned against it with your arms crossed, looking up at Larissa with a challenging look, “What do you think?” 

She chuckled and looked away from you - was she getting flustered? Clearing her throat, she stated, “I’ll think about it. Enjoy your class this morning, Y/N.” And with that, she headed back to her office. You watched her leave for a moment and smiled to yourself, then removed the keys to your room from your pocket. If she decided to show up tonight, you would make sure she had a great time.

By 5 o-clock that evening, you found yourself rushing around to finish getting ready, hopping out of the hot shower to throw on a button-down and some slacks. Leaving a few buttons undone in hopes you would catch the principal’s attention, you put on some light makeup and headed out the door. You hoped beyond hope that Larissa had made up her mind and decided to show. 

After a short drive down the winding road, you parked outside the café and noticed the inside had been completely revamped to reflect a vibe similar to a nightclub of sorts; the tables had been pushed to the edges of the space or removed altogether to make room for a makeshift dance floor, and the overhead lights dimly lit the room in a variety of colors. “Maybe this’ll be more fun than I thought...” you whispered to yourself, glancing in the mirror of your sun visor to double check your makeup before leaving your car. 

--------

Swinging the front door open, you were immediately greeted by a chorus of hellos from the handful of staff members already inside enjoying themselves, the low hum of dance music hitting your eardrums. 

“Y/N! I’m so happy you showed up! Welcome to our little annual bonding tradition,” Ms. Thornhill exclaimed, quickly looping her arm through yours to guide you to the counter. “Would you like a drink? There’s a full bar and a table of snacks over in the corner, too. You’re welcome to them!”

You smiled your thanks in return, and she patted your back before rejoining a group of teachers by the door. She seemed like the excitable type, which you weren’t really into, but she made you feel included nonetheless and for that you were grateful. 

Peeking past the counter, you spotted Coach Vlad preparing a few drinks. He handed them out, then headed your way with a grin.

“Hey, fresh blood! I’m so glad to see you! What’ll you be having?” 

You thought for a moment before deciding, “Just a Jack and coke for me, Coach. I’m glad I could make it. This place moonlights as a club for you guys, huh?” You jest, leaning on the counter, eager for something to take the edge off your remaining nerves. 

“Oh yeah, the Nevermore staff really knows how to get down,” he joked, gesturing to the dead crowd before you both, all chatting away. He handed you the drink and you took a swig. Strong stuff. You wondered where Larissa could be. Would she really decline your ever-so-convincing offer? 

“I guess Weems doesn’t really ‘get down’ much, does she?” You asked him. His hands were already busy with prepping another drink. 

“Not these days. She hardly shows her face at these events. Not really her style, I gather.” He wandered to the other side of the counter to take some more orders. You took another sip and pulled out your phone, suddenly feeling out of place without someone to really talk to. 

While you were mindlessly scrolling through your social media apps, the group of teachers suddenly went silent, quietly muttering to each other as opposed to the loud conversations they were just having. You look past them and see a flash of silver brush past one of the windows. Was that..?

The front door eased open and you swore you had never seen anyone more beautiful - in walked Larissa, adorned in a silver dress and white elbow-length gloves, her hair done up perfectly. 

Your jaw dropped to the floor and you struggled to keep from staring. She caught your eyes roaming up her figure and strutted her way over to you, politely greeting everyone along the way. It was at that moment you realized the alcohol was starting to hit you, giving you more confidence than you normally possessed. 

Setting your drink aside, you attempted to lean coolly on the counter behind you as she approached. “Fancy meeting you here,” you teased when she reached you, her gloved hand coming to rest on the marble surface next to you, effectively trapping you beside her.

“I suppose I could say the same..” she said, her eyes openly sweeping over you, momentarily coming to rest at your slightly revealing choice of clothing before flicking away to Vlad who was still wearing a look of surprise on his face at her appearance. 

“I’ll have a red, Coach,” she said all too smoothly. Grabbing the wine bottle, he poured her drink with a nod. Her gaze turned back to you, her eyes glistening under the multicolored lights as she regarded you. 

Leaning in, she said in a low voice, “You sure clean up well, Ms. Y/L/N.” 

You were momentarily grateful for the low lighting, positive it hid the blush that quickly rose to your cheeks and shiver down your spine. But you feigned shock at her words, putting a hand to your chest as you retorted, “Principal Weems, are you flirting with me?” 

She raised an eyebrow and elegantly turned to accept her drink, looking you dead in the eye as she took a long sip. You felt a searing heat gather in your lower abdomen. God, this woman is stunning, you thought to yourself. 

“It’s possible,” was all she said. 

There was a sudden clap sounding from the center of the room, an attempt from Thornhill to command everyone’s attention. “Alright everyone, partner up! Let’s get a little dancing in, shall we?” She said with a grin. 

A collective groan passed through the room and she jogged over to you, a huge smile still plastered on her face. “Would you care to join me? It’s your first time here, you have to give it a shot at least!” 

You would feel bad turning her down, so you jokingly rolled your eyes and agreed, Larissa watching your reaction the entire time. She tried to hide her amusement but she was looking forward to this. You swallow the rest of your drink and let Marilyn lead you out onto the dance floor. 

Someone cranked the music up a little higher and you quickly found yourself swaying to the beat, the alcohol in your system doing its job. You were grateful several others ended up taking her up on the offer as well, all of you dancing together to the rhythm. You closed your eyes and lost yourself to the music for a moment, your hips working on their own to keep time with everyone else. Maybe Nevermore really did know how to get down. 

You opened your eyes to see Larissa staring you down from her spot at the bar, her eyes raking over your body while you danced. Without thinking, you reached a hand out to her, wiggling your fingers in the air as a silent signal for her to join you. Tossing the remainder of her wine down her throat, she placed down the glass and stalked over to you, her eyes never leaving yours. She came to stand in front of you, and you boldly placed your hands on her hips. You looked up to catch her eye and confirm that this is alright with her, her only response a sly smirk and a glint of mischief in her eye. 

She began moving her body to the beat in time with you, and you released your hold on her to raise your hands above your head, losing yourself to the music once more. She closely watched your every move, almost hypnotized, like you’d put a spell on her. You turned your back to her and threw her a glance over your shoulder. That was all the invitation she needed. 

Placing her hands on your hips instead, she pulled you against her front for a moment, and you gasped at the contact and her forwardness. You deliberately moved your hips more seductively against her, your intentions becoming infinitely more clear. You knew you couldn’t keep this up in front of your co-workers, so you turned to face her once again as the song ended, tossing your head back with a throaty laugh. 

You looked up to find her smiling down at you, that hint of something more never leaving her glare. You crooked a finger to beckon her down to you, and she quickly leaned down to catch your whisper. “Do you wanna get out of here?” It sounded so cliche, you knew, but in that moment your arousal was almost unbearable. Straightening up again, she nodded in agreement and even in the dim light you swore you saw her cheeks redden. You bit your lip and jerked your head in the direction of the door. 

Waving your goodbyes to everyone in attendance, you passed off the excuse to Thornhill that you were too tipsy to drive in an attempt to avoid suspicion and practically darted out the door, Larissa hot on your heels. Hopping in the passenger side of the school’s van, you waited while the principal buckled up and started the engine. 

“You’re quite the little tease, aren’t you,” she said, her own voice coated in arousal. Her words shoot straight to your core. It was nothing you hadn’t heard before, but it sounded so much better coming from her. Her gloved hand came to rest on your thigh during the drive back to the school, her thumb stroking the sensitive skin. You were ready to hop into her lap just as she pulled into the parking lot, and she quickly cut the engine and got out. 

--------

Once inside, you let her lead the way back to her quarters, your eyes glued to her backside the entire walk there. She unlocked the door and ushered you inside, locking it behind you both before pressing you against it with her hips. You gasped and looked up at her, her pupils blown so wide you could practically see your reflection in them. 

“Is this what you want?” she asked, making certain you’re on the same page before proceeding.

“God yes,” you breathed out, hands coming to rest on her lower back. 

She wasted no time in leaning down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss, swallowing a deep moan that rumbled from your chest. Her thigh pried your own apart, coming to rest between them and you gasped into her mouth wantonly, your hands grasping her ass. 

“I’ve wanted this from the first time I laid eyes on you,” you husked. 

Her lips worked your neck, making your eyes roll back. “Then that makes two of us,” she whispered, pressing her thigh to your center. 

You let out a breathy moan, your legs threatening to give out. All at once she pulled away to examine her work, her eyes burning into you and you licked your lips in anticipation. 

“Take off your clothes and get on the bed for me.” 

You loved the idea of following her orders. You didn't hesitate, tugging at the buttons of your shirt hurriedly and dropping it to the floor, followed by your pants, leaving you in your matching set of black lace panties and bra. You climbed onto the bed and knelt at its edge, and Larissa turned her back to you, silently prompting you to unzip her dress. 

You took your time in doing so, kissing down her back in the zipper’s wake. You eased the garment off her shoulders and she removed her gloves, tossing them onto a nearby chair. She turned to you to reveal her choice of lingerie; a cream-colored set that complimented her skin tone perfectly. You felt your mouth water at the sight. 

Sitting up on your knees put you at her height at last, and you pulled her into another kiss, this time softer. You passed your tongue over her bottom lip and she granted you entry immediately, a small whimper escaping her throat. You allowed your fingers to tangle themselves in her perfectly pinned-up hair, her own exploring over your body. You arched into her when her fingers found your nipples through your bra, her lips quirking into a playful grin at your reaction. 

“Someone’s eager..” she teased, pinching them experimentally, earning her a gasp from you.

“Lay down for me,” you whispered against her lips. 

With a chuckle she obliged, lowering herself beside you. You quickly took your place between her thighs, placing open-mouthed kisses from her knee up to her inner thighs. Your fingers danced over her core through the fabric, and she shuddered at the contact, spreading her legs further for you. 

“Someone’s eager,” you teased, throwing her own words back at her. 

Larissa covered her face with a giggle, but it quickly turned into a gasp as you finally made contact with her center through her underwear. The heat of your mouth drove her mad with need, and she tugged the offending article off, revealing just how aroused she was for you. A low growl left your chest at the sight and you dove in without a second thought. 

Flattening your tongue against her clit, you finally got a taste of her, and it was well worth the wait. Her sweetness coated your tongue as you devoured her, and you glanced up to watch her writhe beneath your touch. Her back arching as her hands grabbed for anything that would ground her, eventually landing in your hair. Her whimpers were heavenly, you could listen to them all night long. And you planned to. 

Just as her breaths started to quicken, you circled two fingers over her entrance, before easing them into her. She let out a high-pitched moan, and you moaned against her in response, her sounds and the tugging of your hair spurring you on. You began pumping and curling them inside her in time with the strokes of your tongue, and you could tell she was already getting close by the way her walls were tightening around you. 

“Are you gonna come for me baby?” you coaxed, your fingers brushing that sweet spot inside her that drove her wild. 

“Y-yes, I’m- fuck-” 

You could get used to hearing this woman curse. Especially if you were the cause. With a few more gasps and breathy moans, she reached her release, flooding your fingers and mouth with her intense taste. You helped her down from her high before removing your fingers carefully, climbing up beside her and flopping onto your back to catch your breath. 

After a few minutes Larissa wordlessly straddled your waist, lowering her lips to yours to taste herself on your tongue. Whining against her, you squeezed your thighs together for some much-needed friction and she chuckled against your lips. 

“Oh don’t worry, I’m not done with you yet,” she teased, her fingers trailing up your thigh. 

With practiced skill she pulled your panties aside, quickly finding your clit and circling it with featherlight touches. You gasped and bit your lip, the coil inside you already wound tightly. She kissed up your torso, her soft lips finding your hardened nipple through your bra with ease. You leaned up on your elbows and removed it for her, the movements of those damned fingers making it a nearly impossible feat. 

She caught the sensitive peak of skin in her teeth before you could lay down again, causing your head to fall back in pleasure, a desperate whimper leaving you. Her tongue circled it in the same pattern as her fingers below and you felt entranced by her touch. You cupped her cheek, encouraging her to meet your heated gaze.

“I need you,” you all but begged, your cheeks turning pink at the nature of your words. 

“That’s all I needed to hear, darling.” 

Her words in such a low tone nearly drove you over the edge, but as she pressed her fingers into you, it took everything in your power to keep from crying out. A pathetic whine still managed to leave your throat despite your efforts. 

Her digits filled you up in the most delicious way and she knew it. She pumped them slowly, finding the same spot in you as you did in her, massaging it as you fell back onto the mattress. You knew it wouldn’t take you long to finish at this rate, but the sudden ascent toward your orgasm took you by surprise. 

“Larissa.. so.. so close,” you whimpered, your eyes squeezing shut in an attempt to stave it off a bit longer. 

Your hands gripped her shoulders, nails digging in. Your vision gained a few black spots when you opened your eyes again, only to find Larissa’s lustful stare looking back.

“It’s alright dear, I want you to come.” 

Her words sounded delectable in your ear when she whispered them to you, and you couldn’t help yourself when you came undone on her fingers, a moaning mess beneath her. You moved to cover your mouth but her hand caught your wrist, pinning it above you. She wanted to hear you, so you let her. 

Once your pulsing around her slowed, she pulled her fingers from you and looked deep into your eyes as she sucked them clean, groaning at your taste. A smirk played on her features, proud of her handiwork as she regarded your now disheveled demeanor.

“Perhaps I’ll make a habit of going to Staff Bonding Nights.” 

You both burst out in laughter before settling into a comfortable silence, soon after falling into a deep sleep, wrapped up in each other.  

[aloysiavirgata]

I have a bet going that even the most saccharine fluff can actually be done well. So, a prompt for you, if you’re willing:

Mulder and Scully’s kid is an elementary student of the week. Every day that week, kid has to do a Special Assignment; Our Family, Draw a picture of the family pet, whatever. Go! (?)

“Are you shitting me?” Mulder asks, staring at the list. “I’ve read Kitty Kelley biographies less invasive than this.”

Scully leans over, perusing. “You’re so dramatic, it’s a very sweet little program! Tomorrow is his favorite book.”

She frowns then. “Oh.”

“Oh,” Mulder repeats. “The Book That Eats People.”

Scully puts her face in her hands. “We’re the Addams Family,” she groans. “Jesus.”

Mulder pats her on the back. “Maybe he’ll pick Madeline,” he suggests, without much conviction.

***

William is at the table, tongue poked between his lips. “How do you spell ‘disavowed?” he asks.

His father scowls. “William, just say I’m a writer. You don’t need all the back story.”

“D-I-S-A-“ his mother begins.

“SCULLY.”

William beams, a gap-toothed smile. His father’s crinkled eyes. His mother’s blue irises. “Go on, Scully,” he says.

***

The cat is curled in a spiral on the Lazy Susan, her glorious tail a twitchy plume.

“Can I tell them why we named her Taily-Po?” William asks.

Scully frowns. “It’s a scary story, William,” she says. “Not everyone is -“

“Yes,” says Uncle Frohike, scooping up lentils with a wedge of paratha. “It’s classic Americana. That’s patriotism in Virginia.”

Scully frowns. “William. Just tell them we found her as a kitten behind a Vietnamese restaurant.”

“There’s a hyphen,” says Uncle Langley, helpfully.

***

William pokes through the cardboard box of pictures. “Can I tell them Aunt Melissa was murdered ?” he asks. “And that it was never solved? And what do I say about Aunt Samantha, Dad?”

Scully stares beseechingly at Taily-Po, who blinks greenly in reply.

***

“Can I bring both bullets?” William asks his parents. “I can’t pick just one of your gunshots!”

Mulder considers his apple crumble. “How about your mother’s bullet and my letter from the Jerry Springer show?”

William perks up. “Yeah?”

“NO,” Scully says, over a mug of tea. “Those are not appropriate for show and tell.”

William stabs at a potato.

“Well, you have your last birthday card from Skinner,” Mulder says. “Most kids don’t get cards from the director of the FBI.”

William rolls his eyes. “It’s just a CARD,” he groans. “It’s BORING. It’s the last day, it has to be GOOD.”

Mulder ponders for a moment. He looks at Scully, the love of his life. Her fine cheeks are drawn in as she blows on her tea, her mouth a damask rose. She has a nose like a Roman queen, hair like Hestia’s tender flame. Against every odd she birthed him a strong, healthy child. He would kill for her. He would die for her.

“William,” he says to his son, not meeting her apatite gaze. “Have you heard of a show called COPS?”

[lumnries]

┆．pairings stan marsh x gn reader ft. kenny

┆．synopsis stan’s been friends with you since 4th grade, how does he feel realizing he holds feelings for you?

┆．cw not proofread

✉️ … this is my first blog post SO i just wanna say my reqs are open !!!! hmu, you can find my rules here :D i don’t write a lot so this got a bit poor but i tried my best <\3 I FORGOT TO MENTION, THEY’RE IN HIGHSCHOOL HERE 😭😭😭

he doesn’t really realize at first, he’s always noticed how his heart beats faster whenever you were around but never really thought much about it.

it was on the first of the month he recognized his feelings for you. he doesn’t know what to do, should he tell you or keep it to himself? he ponders about it for a bit while walking down the halls. as he reached his locker, he sees you hesitantly talking with kenny. it doesn’t help that both your lockers are right next to each other, but that’s besides the point. he’s more focused on finding out what you guys are taking about.

“hey, why are you guys whispering?” he asks as he opens his locker. only then do you turn around, and god does he feel like disappearing. “stan… it’s nothing.” he stops for a moment. & stares at you, he promptly takes note of your flushed expression & mentally frowns. “well, alright. where are the others?” he closes his locker as he looks at the both of you. kenny seems indifferent but he doesn’t fail to see the slight smirk he wears. now, his dejection is plastered all over his face. an expression of dumbstruck takes over you. “stan? what’s wrong?” you ask, his previous state nowhere to be seen. “don’t worry, i just remembered i had to do something.” giving you no time to speak, stan rushes away.

“seems like he’s discovered something.” kenny disrupts you from your train of thoughts. “kenny, this isn’t the time. he was probably upset about something else.” he shrugs. before you can add on another comment, the bell rings indicating the start of the first period. “shit. let’s talk again later at lunch.” you hurriedly walk to your class as kenny follows behind you. sighing, you open the door to your classroom only to be greeted by your teachers scowling face. you apologize, walking to your seat. you sit down, fixated on your teachers discussion — unaware of a certain someone’s gaze.

suddenly, it’s already lunch. you wait in line with the others in front, allowing you to consider how you actually feel. if you’re gonna be honest to yourself, you’ve probably felt this way towards stan for months now; but you’ve never bothered to express your feelings as he’s always been interested in wendy. but, kenny has certainly made you doubt yourself. you weren’t stupid, you noticed how he seemed to fidget whenever you were around or how his face seemed to slightly burn crimson whenever you complimented him. you sigh, confused by his change in behavior.

& just like that, the day ends. you say your goodbyes to your friends as you walk home. the cool breeze hitting you. your days went on just like this, days turned into weeks & the end of the month eventually got closer. it was the 31st. your day went on how it usually was, but nobody could imagine the stunned look on your face when stan told you to meet him at stark’s pond after class. your heart was racing as you were approaching the said location. you reached the lake, seeing the familiar figure of your friend.

he himself was painted with an embarrassed look. your mind went blank as he got closer & opened his mouth. “y/n, i’m slo glad you came. this is kinda humiliating. i mean, seeing me like this.” he stammers as he talks, “okay, i know this might be sudden but i like you. recently, i’ve started contemplating about how i felt towards you. and i’ve come to the conclusion that i’m absolutely fucked whenever i think of you because i just can’t seem to get you out of my head.” your gaze follows him as he turns his head, looking away. you hold his hands, seemingly making the raven haired boy redden even more. despite this, he doesn’t seem to mind.

“stan. i like you too, you don’t understand how happy i am just being in your presence. i’ve loved you since last year, i just couldn’t stand the idea of ruining our friendship over something i can’t control. just being together with you was enough, but now i’m not so sure.” he’s finally looking at you. your heart feels like bursting. he brings his face closer to yours, as you guys embrace each other. the warmth you felt that day couldn’t be described. & as the month finished, so was the constant confusion of your relationship with the boy you’ve liked.

[sensitiveheartless]

fic emoji asks - ⏳+ 🤩

⏳How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?

Ooooh that depends — with my first fic, (Wish in one hand) I wrote it in a possessed whirl in about…two days, I think? And then kinda idly edited it for a couple months because I didn’t have anywhere to post it at the time (hadn’t made an ao3 account yet). That one was just 5k of course, and it was pretty straightforward to write.

“Zut Alors! I have missed one!” Is another that I wrote in a possessed frenzy; I thought of it while cooking and listening to little mermaid songs and couldn’t stop laughing at the idea of crab Chuuya and chef Dazai, immediately started working on it, and that one took me a couple weeks to finish I think? Maybe a month, I don’t quite remember. Howl AU chapters usually took at least a week when I had more free time, and much longer whenever I was busy (or was writing a more complicated part, like chapters 16 and 17 — oh my gosh those were a lot of characters to keep track of alskdjfj)

🤩 Who is your favorite character to write?

…Probably Chuuya? He’s been one of the biggest challenges, because I like his character so much I want to do it as well as I can, but it’s also been super fun! While I can relate to him in certain ways, he’s also very different than I am, so it’s fun to explore those differences and try to really get in his head. The Howl AU was great for that actually, because it was the first long form thing I had done from his perspective, and it forced me to really ponder what was going on with him. As a result, his character arc actually changed significantly while I was writing things out, and sometimes I felt like he was spinning out of control and I was just kind of going along with the vibe (he was not supposed to become cognizant of his feelings for Dazai as early as he did, but I’m actually really happy with how that progression turned out, so no regrets!). I don’t know how good the characterization was at some points, but I sure had a fun time with it!

Honestly I’ve ended up enjoying most of the characters I’ve written, especially in the Howl AU (like Oda and Ango! It was the first time I’d written them, and I liked writing them SO much. Also Mori, he sure does make a good antagonist alsksjdjf — I could go on but it really was every character I included in that fic) so I wouldn’t put any one character too high over another, but Chuuya is Chuuya and he is wonderful :D

[ghosts-and-blue-sweaters]

ghostbur and limbobur interaction, no interaction, whatever. just mmmm the parallels and then coexisting in different realms is enough. you can see I am very normal about my bois yes.

They take up 90% of my brain space

VERY GOOD IDEA YES YES!!! I’ve actually been wanting to write about Ghostbur and Wilbur, specifically set in Limbo, so this was a good motivator to actually write that :D

~~~

I seem to be inside a train station, Ghostbur thought, taking in the worn signs and maps posted to the walls and the flickering schedule fixed to the ceiling, pixelated words reading: do you remember what the sun feels like?

As Ghostbur stared, pondering this strange question—of course he remembered what the sun felt like! He felt it on his skin everyday, and he loved to sit and watch it move lazily across the sky, and he quite enjoyed the feeling of warmth on his closed eyelids—a voice broke his thoughts, scattering them like smoke. 

“What are you?”

Ghostbur blinked, turning around.

Across the train tracks, on a platform identical to Ghostbur’s own, stood a man wearing a long brown coat. His eyes were wide, and they were brown.

Brown…

Ghostbur wanted to say hello, and wave, and perhaps talk about the sun, but he did not. 

Instead, he was quiet. 

Strangely, he felt very afraid. 

He felt very afraid. 

“What are you?” The man repeated, voice quivering like leaves in autumn that just barely clung to their branches, always being blown away in the end. He took a step—though forward or backward, Ghostbur couldn’t tell. “Are you a mirage? A vision?”

There was a pause.

“Like a- like an illusion? Like a magic trick?” The man snapped his fingers. “Is a bloody rabbit going to jump out of your hat?”

“I’m not wearing a hat,” Ghostbur murmured, before he could remember that he wanted to stay quiet. 

The man shut his mouth with a snap. 

It seemed as if a chasm greater than train tracks was settled between them. 

Ghostbur still felt very afraid, but he didn’t run. 

“You look- you sound like me. Why do you sound like me?” The man sounded panicked, eyes growing wider and exposing more of the whites inside them. “Why do you look like me? Why do you have my face? Why do you have my freaking face?”

Ghostbur took a small step backwards. 

The man stared at him. His stare was very sharp, almost piercing. Like a sword, or the tip of a knife. 

A thought drifted into Ghostbur’s mind, quiet and heavy and instantaneously right. “Are you Alivebur?”

“What… what’s an Alivebur?”

Ghostbur gazed at the man, tilting his head to the side. 

Wilbur gazed back, swallowing. His forehead was growing shiny with sweat. 

“Is this where you live now?” Ghostbur asked, taking another look around. “In a train station?”

Wilbur paused. “I- yes, in a… train station.”

“Is this what death looks like?” Ghostbur stopped looking around, turning his attention back to Wilbur. Wilbur, the dead man, who died on November sixteenth, which was two and a half weeks ago. 

Wilbur blinked. “You didn’t answer my bloody question.”

“Oh.” Then it was Ghostbur who blinked. “What was-“

“What are you? Are you me? Are you my doppelgänger, my clone? A trick?” Wilbur began to pace, back and forth across his platform. Ghostbur watched him. 

Wilbur’s shoes made very loud clicks against the floor. 

“I think I’m your ghost!” Ghostbur supplied. 

Wilbur’s gait faltered. “My ghost?”

“Yes!” Ghostbur nodded, trying to be excited even though he felt mostly scared. “I’m like you except I don’t do bad things or blow up nations! I don’t start fires!”

Wilbur continued pacing, wringing his hands together. “You don’t start fires?”

“No! I don’t start fires that I can’t put out.” He paused. “I think you did that a lot.”

Wilbur chuckled, though it sounded much more like a choke. “Brilliant. Just brilliant.”

“What is?”

Wilbur stopped walking so suddenly that his coat rushed forward and his hair flopped. He glared at Ghostbur with eyes that were far more dangerous than lightning. “You. Me, this.”

He gestured at the train station, and his sharp hands struck Ghostbur as if he’d been physically hit. Ghostbur flinched.

~~~

There’s actually quite a bit more that I’ve written for this :0 But this was the section that made the most sense, I felt like. Still working on the rest!

This has become a full on fic alsgaksgkafsjs and I’m not too sure when I’ll finish it, so I wanted to go ahead and share at least a bit of what I have :D

[sleeping-academic]

september 15th, 2024

today was not very productive… most of my morning was just me sitting around. i’m at work right now tho, and it’s looking like a pretty boring shift, so i should have time to get some stuff done unless i’m given a surprise task.

unfortunately i did not find a red jacket on my thrifting excursion with my friend yesterday 😔 but i did see something in spirit halloween that inspired another halloween costume idea (one that’s much easier too!!) so i’ll keep pondering that.

today, i:

���� finished watching arcane with my roommate!! we’re both very excited for season 2 to come out in a few months :D

🫧 painted my nails (blue and pink… like jinx from arcane. can you tell i really like arcane rn??)

🫧 went to dutch bros before work and got a hot tea for my shift as a little pick-me-up treat (because i did NOT want to go to work)

to-do before tomorrow:

🫧 finish reading chapter 2 of the textbook for my archaeology of ancient italy class + take quiz 4

�� read the “doing gender” article for my intro to gender and society class

🫧 finish the page for the 8 of Wands in my tarot journal!! i’ve been very disconnected from that recently with the start of the new semester, but i’m gonna try and dedicate some more time this week to learn more about tarot <3

media:

🎧: “paint the town blue” - ashnikko

📖: the song of achilles - madeline miller

📺: arcane season 1 episode 9 - “the monster you created”

[nesta-apologist]

So if we've got Cleric!Elain and Paladin!Lucien, which D&D class do the other ACOTAR characters fall into?

Thank you so much for asking! Hope you're ready for a dump of all my ✨thoughts✨

Here's a summary if you aren't interested in reading my whole dissertation (If you're wondering: yes I do plan to draw them all, we'll just see what I have time for)

If you're interested in more details on subclasses/multiclasses you'll have to come back later (I'll reblog and add it to this post) but if you're looking for explorations and ponderings of this so far:

Generically, I made these choices based on both personality and powers/skills. Sometimes these seem to conflict though, and I’ll do my best to explain the conflict.

I'll start with Cassian and Nesta, because they're the clearest to me. Cassian is a Barbarian because of his Illyrian training. Nesta is a Warlock because of her power's connection to the Cauldron (for example: one could see the end of ACOSF as a conversation between a warlock and their patron)

Now that I've got you hooked, we'll revisit Elain and Lucien. Elain is a Cleric for the vibes yes, but also because of her source of power - the Cauldron. She is blessed with powers from the same deity/being that Nesta “bargained with��� (stole from) for power.

Lucien is a tough one. I initially figured he’d just be a bard, but after thinking about it more I decided on making him a paladin. I’ve heard good arguments for him being a rogue potentially, too. I’m dedicated to him being a paladin because I believe it fits his loyalty and sense of justice. Plus, there’s a possibility of him having an oathbreaker subclass after leaving Spring 👀. I like to think he may have a history of being a bard/pursuing the bard class back in Autumn, but left it behind when he left the Court.

Non-specifically, I’ll think that all High Lords are some kind of Sorcerers. I also imagine at least some multiclass because I feel like it makes sense for people that are so powerful. Other than them, I’ll try to avoid multi-classing unless it makes a ton of sense (i’m figuring out alternatives I’ll get into when I make a later post about subclasses and multiclassing in Dnd!Acotar (probably after Cassian week)

Next, of course, is Feyre and Rhysand. Feyre naturally has had the Ranger class since she was human, and then she picked up the Sorcerer class when she gained the powers of the High Lords.

Rhysand, as mentioned his high lords, is a sorcerer as well. He will likely either multiclass in barbarian for his training in Illyrian fighting, or that will be the basis for his specific subclass (though I’m also considering basing the HL subclasses on their Court theme). Basically, I’m workshopping it! :)))

Rogue!Azriel seems pretty set in stone/obvious to me (though I’d love to entertain other ideas if y’all have 'em!). Once again deciding if he should be a barbarian of some kind for the Illyrian training …

I’m also workshopping if the Valkyrie’s develop a multiclass/subclass for finishing their training. Whichever that class is will likely be Emerie’s class. I’m deciding between Monk or Fighter for her, leaning toward monk.

Then there’s Gwyn! I’m considering her having a base class of Druid or Cleric because of her background. Maybe I just want a Druid in here, or maybe I think she should just match classes with Emerie. I’m leaning toward Druid!Gwyn + Valkyrie class.

Sorcerer!Amren makes sense to me, having the same sort of mystical magical background as the High Lords (though she’ll absolutely have a different subclass than any known HL).

Bard!Mor makes sense to me because a lot of her abilities seem to be in the diplomacy around fights. I’m sure other arguments could be made for her class, but we don’t know a ton about her powers, and I LOVE the idea of Mor giving Bardic Inspiration.

I didn’t mean to group Eris and Mor in any way, but Eris makes sense as a Bard for the same reasons Mor does. Eris is just trying to multiclass into Sorcerer right now lol(a.k.a. Become HL).

The last thought I had was about the potential of Helion being an Artificer/Sorcerer. If Helion isn’t an Artificer, he sure runs a Court full of them. I’m considering him to potentially be a Clockwork Soul Sorceror (I’ll get into in a later post), or being the only HL to be a Wizard instead of a sorcerer based on his study of magic. Once again: workshopping

Let me know if you guys have any ideas for characters I haven’t gotten to yet! Here’s a short list:

Tamlin, Tarquin, Kallias (once again, I’m thinking Sorcerer for HLs but maybe there’s more), Jurian, Vassa, Ianthe, Kier, Amarantha, the human queens, Drakon, or Miriam

[gumnut-logic]

Okay, I’m possibly nuts, actually, probably nuts, but I’ve been looking for a way to activate my art a bit more. I can draw, paint, whatever and I have a studio full of glorious equipment that is barely getting used.

I had thought to start a sketch book, but the problem with that is that not all my media can be supported in a sketch book and plus I am horribly hard to tie down into one thing (you may have noticed).

I was pondering away and it occurred to me that the one thing that links all my art and craft media is colour. This combined with the fact that I have a pile of beads lined up on my desk in colour combos waiting for me to action something with them. They are like mini palettes.

So what if I come up with a small combination of colours every week and do whatever with those colours?

I know I’m not the first to have this brain wave, but it struck me today as something I could do, so I’m doing it. Initially for the month of February (alongside FabFiveFeb, which I’m also prepping) and see what happens. It may fizzle into nothing due to being back at work :( but at the very least I’ll end up with a little bit of creative stuff done?

So I’m slapping it here, in case anyone would like to join in.

Outline

I will post a small palette of colours, probably on the Sunday (except for Week One which is down below).

Take the colours, which will not be precise, because I’m too lazy to get out my Pantone swatches, and colour matching sucks across monitors and printers and yeah, it’s a graphic design nightmare. So take the approximate colours and do something with with them. Art, craft, traditional, digital, performance, big, small, using all the colours, one of the colours, a derivative of the colours, fanworks or not fanworks, whatever works. I know, getting the creative brain to produce anything is a pain in many body parts. And writers, if this floats your boat, grab it and let’s go sailing :D

Post it to your blog (or not, but I’d love to see it anyway) and tag with #nuttypalette (the whole challenge title is too long and it abbreviates to npc which while I love Ryan Reynolds, isn’t really what I’m looking for :D )

Week One

Here we go.

This week’s palette I stole from my macrame stash. These colours went zing after hunting through my pile of cords and I’ve started a five-weave macrame bracelet with them. But I also have other ideas, so let’s see what happens :D

When I had to slap together the logo above I figured this was the colour set this week, so I used it.

So if you would like to join in, have at it. Write, draw, paint, craft, scribble, whatever works :D

It should also be noted that I’m definitely going to include some of the Thunderbirds colours along the way cos I can’t help myself.

Wanna play?

Nutty

(let’s see if it works at all)

[inonibird]

Hey y’all, I swear I’m still around and semi-functioning! :’) The past month has been bonkers, between finally catching Covid and starting a new job, and NOW it’s just about time for the holidays, so things will likely continue in this hectic vein. (But there’s good news: Covid was relatively mild and new job is super cool so far!)

I have the next chapter of Sahuldeem ready to post—likely on an “off” day, since I really just need to take whatever chance I can to post instead of waiting for the perfect Monday. It and the following chapter are fun ones, IMO, and then…well, I’ve written most of Part Four, but there’s still one chapter (a new one that wasn’t in the original script) that I’ve struggled with. Hopefully I can get through it, since I truly enjoy the rest of Collector~

As for other projects…I’m getting antsy, I know it. T_T In the past couple of weeks I’ve opened up and looked at my first draft of UNWANTED with major rewrites in mind and refreshed my memory on an old paranormal series I’d been fiddling with over a decade ago. I have a big backlog of D&D art from this past year I’ve never gotten around to posting, and more I wish I could draw if I could just get my brain to cooperate. I’m also wandering off and pondering THREE different possible offshoots of Sahuldeem that I wouldn’t mind tackling once it’s over. So much. Help.

But ahhhh well! Even if I obviously can’t do ALL OF THE THINGS (let alone much of anything before the new year), do expect at least one more Sahuldeem update soon~ Stay safe and healthy in the meantime, folks!

Oh, and here’s actual footage of me leaving my old job for the new one:

[torawro]

Hey sosa!!! Sorry if you’re getting a lot of byakuya ask! So I got something I’ve been thinking about. Imagine byakuya gets taken to a strip club/gentlemen club by his peers and renji to help him ease up a little bit and to get out more and he wasn’t really all that impress until he sees reader and boom! He’s been stuck on them from that moment on and tries everything to get her! From visiting often, to VIPS rooms, giving gifts and eventually trying to make her quit because he’s so rich he can easily just pay her lifestyle if he wanted to!

EEEEEEEK!!! So whatcha think about that? And if you ever build a headcanon off this I’ll be foaming at the mouth 😮‍💨cuz your and writing is 🤌🏾😮‍💨

P.s. I might even come off anon if you can guess who wrote this🤭🤭

HI NONNIE !!! i am soooooooo incredibly sorry for being late :(( i'm finally getting to all my asks >< please don't apologize i absolutely LOVE AND ADORE the saturation of byakuya related content i've been getting in my ask box and i want more :D love a reason to talk about my maaannnnnn. also, i think i very much know who this is but u shall let u come forward if you wish :))))

okay i personally LOVEEEEE THIS IDEA???FDKFDEKF LIKE THIS SOUNDS SO GOOD ! i think this kind of scenario is def something he would do to an extent 🤭 i would like to add, at first byakuya wouldn't want to go to this kind of place because, as prideful as he is, he thinks he's 'above it' and thinks that men who frequent these establishes so often are lowkey 'tasteless' because he just doesn't understand, subjectively, the appeal of watching barely clothed women dance in front and around him. but he may understand why other men might go.

and then he folds.

it's because renji is annoyingly persistent and figured the only way to get him and his other male friends/colleagues to stop asking is to go. so he promise he'll go just once and one time only just to see what the hype is about and it's like you said, he wasn't all thatttt impressed (at least they had decent drinks) but probably wouldn't come back on his own free will. until he sees the reader 🤭 she comes out in an outfit that is revealing but isn't all THAT revealing compared to her coworkers and his eyes are immediately drawn to her. there's also a certain elegance, poise and finesse that is threaded within her every movement but at the same time, she's still very sensual and feminine. the combination was incredibly sexy and captivating to byakuya, his gray silver eyes would continuously find their way back to her, like metal to a magnet. your gazes met twice during the night; your eyes were beautifully beguiling, but there was an amicable quality to them that felt inviting. you even gave him a wave as you left, and byakuya's eyes widened in surprise but otherwise his face didn't give away any emotion to his other colleagues.

all night he would think about you. yes 'kuya was a quiet man by nature but this time he was somewhat lost in thought pondering and contemplating about you and as he parted with his friends and arrived at his lavish, expansive bachelor pad, he was also already considering returning back to the establishment.... just to see you.

but ofc because he is as stubborn as he is quiet and intelligent, he wouldn't actually go back for almost another week. he made sure to go discreetly on a day/time that none of his colleagues would be there b/c he knew if they ever saw him they'd never let him live it down. this second time he goes back, he sits in a section by himself and just watches you, gingerly sipping on the alcohol he's been served. the way his eyes became low as he stared at you dance and manuever on stage, you would think he was glaring at you but it was quite the opposite. he was observing you, drinking you in, trying to figure you out just by watching you; byakuya could be very astute. either way it made you hot to have this handsome man's eyes on you all night. it wasn't in a creepy or predatory way which was a change of pace u could appreciate. in fact, you found it-- and him-- very attractive.

byakuya would find himself giving into his more primitive desires and visited a third and fourth time and the fifth time is when he gathered the courage (?) to request a private room with this woman. he figured it was time to talk to her. in all honesty, he didn't really like the idea of visiting this place so often because it made him a hypocrite but he came for you. and now, it's time he'd show you his world after getting to watch u in yours. he def courted her using his polite manners, chivalrous attitude and...basically just being himself and he was such a breath of fresh air, and sexy too, how could u resist?

i don't want this to get any longer than it already is LMAOOOOO but as u can see.........the wheels in my brain were actively turning as i typed and this was too good of an idea that i could most CERTAINLY flesh out so i thank u for this <3

[moorheadthanyoucanhandle]

DICED HAM

Opening this weekend:

Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves--This movie includes more than one dungeon, and more than one dragon. Thus the title is truthful, at any rate.

Once or twice back in college--twice, if memory serves--I played Dungeons & Dragons with some of my fellow theater students. It was sort of fun, as I recall. The first time, an obnoxious kid we didn't know named Dan--not a theatre major--had somehow been invited, who seemed to think himself a great ladies' man. He named his warrior character "Dahn" and spent most of the evening drinking a lot and hitting on the young women there. When we played again a week or so later, Dan was not invited, and the Dungeon Master mildly informed us that "Dahn disagreed with something that ate him."

This was in the early '80s.  I recount this story only to make it clear how limited my familiarity is with the classic role-playing fantasy game developed in the mid-'70s and now owned by Wizards of the Coast (a subsidiary of Hasbro). I've never played D&D or any similar game since, though I have friends and family who are enthusiasts. Even at the time, I didn't really grasp how the dice rolls and "damage points" and other such jargon determined the flow of the game; I just enjoyed the socializing and improvisational creativity.

So for all I know, this new movie version, directed by Jonathan Goldstein and John Francis Daley from a script they concocted with Michael Gilio and Chris McKay, is a rich and faithful fleshing-out of tropes from the game. Or, for all I know, it's just a sword-and-sorcery fantasy with the franchise's name hung on it. I can't say, nor need any general audience member care; either way, it's highly entertaining.

Chris Pine is a lute-strumming troubadour living in a Ren-Faire-ish realm of racial and gender diversity. A washed-up member of a heroic order, he leads a band of thieves including a warrior (Michelle Rodriguez); a sorcerer (Justice Smith) of low self-esteem and questionable prowess, and a horned and tailed elfin person (Sophia Lillis) who can shape-shift into various other creatures, including a brawny monster owl.

They're on a quest to obtain some sort of magical thingy that will allow them to enter a magic vault from which they want to steal some other magical thingy. This will allow the troubadour to resurrect his murdered wife. Along the way the band is helped by a noble but humorlessly literal paladin (Regé-Jean Page from Bridgerton).

This synopsis does the movie little justice, however. D&DHAT isn't heavy. Despite all the thundering hordes and clanking armor and clashing steel and roiling brimstone and mystical spells and hideous ogres and such, the flavor is less like a Tolkien epic than like a Hope-Crosby Road comedy. The guiding joke is that the characters, notwithstanding their fairy tale attire, speak and interact in a contemporary American idiom, like people on a sitcom. There's an extended schtick, involving questioning of the dead, that's almost worthy of the Marx Brothers.

Your own tastes will determine if this approach makes the movie a blast or an outrage. For me, it not only made it less ponderous, but more emotionally satisfying. The actors generate an ensemble playfulness and a sense of affection. Pine retains his raffish agreeability, and he and Rodriguez are particularly convincing as longtime, patiently enduring friends.

But once again, the best reason to see the film, even if this sort of fantasy isn't your usual tankard of mead, is Hugh Grant. He plays the rotten mountebank who betrayed Pine and friends back in the day. Since then, with the alliance of a sinister sorceress (Daisy Head), this fraud has ascended to the throne of the kingdom; it's his vault the gang wants to loot, and he's also, intolerably, been serving as the surrogate father to Pine's daughter (Chloe Coleman).

Between this movie, the recent Operation Fortune, and 2017's Paddington 2, Grant has quite a line these days in cheery, good-natured comic villains. The scenes he steals here are the most honorable theft in the movie.

[enithinggoes]

Chapter 9: I’m okay

July 3rd, 2022. Today they get to eat cup noodles with sink water, heated in the microwave.

“Yeeeah baby!” Henrique chowed down on a huge mouthful of noodles, leaving their tips hanging inside the cup.

“This money won’t last forever,” said Elizabeth, observing and turning the food on her fork like a Sommelier examines a wine, “home appliances and instant food are convenient-“ she took a bite “-and tasty. But we’re going to need to earn our own eventually.”

“I think I can fool people into thinking I’m 18, but I don’t have many useful skills. Maybe something like a bouncer?” Henrique gently tapped his plastic fork against his lip in thought.

“You certainly fit the bill.” Benjamin pointed his fork at his friend’s torso. “Big, strong and mean looking!” He joked.

“I have always thought it would be interesting to become a writer. But I think that would take a long time to give any financial returns. A librarian or something similar may be a more prudent choice for the immediate future.” Elizabeth pondered her options.

“What about me?” Asked Benjamin, visibly excited.

Elizabeth and Henrique shared a look. “You’re too young, at your age everyone will know you should be going to school,” said Henrique.

“Oh…” Benjamin turned his gaze down, having trouble arguing. “But I’ve already finished school! And I think no normal college would accept me now…”

Elizabeth placed her hand gently on Benjamin’s shoulder. “Maybe something online, you’ll find something, Benjamin. Don’t worry so much right now.”

“I want to help…”

…

Henrique would buy Benjamin a gift today, but to do that guilt-free, he should get a job already. So he went looking for nightclubs and bars in the neighborhoods around Aclimação, and due to a recent dismissal, he even found an interview on the same day in a place called “the Magenta Room”.

The place was surprisingly calm for a bar. A local band was playing a relaxing mix of jazz and Brazilian bossa nova live on stage. As the name suggested, the walls were painted magenta, contrasted by baby blue lights which brought an aquarium to Henrique’s mind. Working here wouldn’t be bad.

“What’s your name, kid?” A woman with curly hair bound in a ponytail by an olive colored hair tie asked from the other side of a bar stand where no one else sat, it was still three in the afternoon, after all.

“Henrique.” His hands squeezed each other to keep occupied and hide nerves.

“Laura, pleasure.” She offered him a hand and he shook it. “This your first job, Henrique?”

“Yes, ma’am. I just moved away from my folks.” It wasn’t a lie.

“And can you stay here into the night? Ain’t got somewhere to be in the morning?” Laura tapped her chin with her index finger while she questioned him.

“No, I can go home any time.”

“Things get ugly from time to time. Some drunks and creeps get violent when told no. You ever been in a fight?”

“…Yes” Henrique couldn’t avoid casting his eyes down as he answered. Too many questions. Oh shit does she maybe know?

“Hmm…” Laura looked the boy up and down, examining him with a quirked eyebrow and tight lips. She knows something’s up, and he knows she knows. She probably even knows he knows she knows.

“C-could you pay me in cash?” Henrique asked. But his eyes pleaded a much more important request. Please don’t call the police. Please don’t look for my parents, I can’t go back!

Laura put her hand on her face and sighed. “Haaah…ok. Your shift is from 8 to midnight. 5 nights a week, 100 reais a night. Can you start tonight?”

“Yes I can! Thank you Thank you Thank you!” Henrique put his feet together and bowed in front of his new boss.

“Lift your head, kid. Stay safe on your way home.”

“Right, thank you.” Henrique walked out of the club relieved and excited. Before he stepped through the door, taking his phone out of his pocket to communicate his triumph and warn his friends he wouldn’t be back early.

18:14=> BloodyMess: I got a job! I’ll be back home after midnight.

18:15=> Tinysaster: Niiiiice =D

18:15=>SownTogether: Congratulations, Henrique. I appreciate your efforts to contribute to our funds. Be careful on your return.

…

The “Treasure Hoard” store was an old acquaintance of Henrique’s. Introduced to him by his friend Benjamin, who would frequently send him images of shirts, books and tabletop games from their website. Henrique had even had a few items of theirs delivered to Benjamin’s address for birthdays and Christmas over the years. Today was just his first time doing it in person.

RPG bestiaries were always a good option. Benjamin would spend hours reading and rereading about the skills and origins of curious creatures. Tabletop games were also great, it would be nice to have more to do in that little hotel room. Would a poster be cool? A small personal touch to make their living space into a home?

Henrique tapped his foot indecisively when a thick book purposefully styled to look ancient fresh out of the store got his attention. With the words Grimorium Arcanum written in quite a fancy font on the cover along with a series of colorful circular symbols representing elements like fire, ice, lightning, earth, and some more abstract ones that Henrique couldn’t get at first glance, this was exactly the kind of thing Benjamin would love.

The book was, clearly, just a stylized journal. But the paper and binding were very neat and it came with a beautiful fountain pen. Hey, hadn’t Benjamin said his power came from language or something like that? Perhaps a grimoire would be really useful for him, and maybe the fantasy of being a powerful wizard could make him more comfortable with the sudden arrival of the supernatural kicking down everything he know about his life.

“Excuse me, how much is this notebook?”

“89 reais and 90 cents.”

Shit.

…

“You already back, kid? Your shift is still an hour away.” Laura was wiping down the bar when he arrived.

“Could I uh… could I get an advance for today? Possibly in the form of a meal? I… miscounted the money I had with me and spent it on a gift for my friend.” Henrique stared at his feet, avoiding eye contact. He felt very small making this request even though he was taller than his boss by about 10 centimeters.

Laura leant her elbow on the counter, leaning her chin on her knuckles and regarding him for a few seconds with… interest? Care? Whatever it was, it was foreign to Henrique, his parents and trainers didn’t spent this long deciding anything for him.

“Pedro! Bring a number 1 special, and some fries!” She shouted towards the back of the club, then turned to the drinks behind her. “Do you drink, kid?”

“Just juice, m’am.”

“Smart.” Laure started pressing some orange juice. Henrique felt as if he’d just passed a test.

Henrique really relished his dinner, it was just bar fast food. But it was still a few levels above canned food and microwaved noodles.

“Damm, kid, you’re really going to town on that burger.”  She leaned over the counter, with a fond smile.

Henrique knew that comment didn’t need an answer, yet he still searched his head for an explanation, so way to not say this was the first real food he’d eaten in a few years depending on what counted as “real”. Even if he didn’t really need to say something, he still spoke “thank you for the meal,” through a full mouth.

…

The hours of work went by swiftly. No one caused problems, and Henrique felt like being a teenager helped him identify other people his age or younger with fake ID’s and formal outfits clearly contrasted by their youthful faces.

It was dark out when Henrique went home, but there were lots of lamp posts on the way home so he didn’t imagine himself getting lost. He liked the dark, either way, it meant no one was watching, he could rest. It wasn’t time for training.

At home there would be friends waiting for him. He’d hand Benjamin the diary and he’d jump up in joy, flipping through the pages and scribbling with the pen to test it. Maybe he’d hug Henrique, that would be nice. Elizabeth would make a subtle tense expression, but she’d relax if he reminded her of the job, this was just a little treat. A small thing they could have because they wanted it, and not because they needed it. Maybe she’d hug him too. Henrique took out his phone to contact his friends:

00:10=>BloodyMess: Coming home

=>BloodyMess: Are yo

Someone’s behind him. Two voices, “Heyheyhey! Hand it over”.  Henrique turned, too late, two young men close behind, too close to run. Just a little shorter and older than him. He pulled his bag and phone close on instinct and-

The world spun around Henrique as a fist connected to the side of head throwing it to the right, it hurts. Raise your fists, defend yourself. Henrique blocked the next punch, think of a counter at-

A punch coming from the opposite direction shoved Henrique down and to the left. Fuck, there’s two of them, no time to think. Hold on to your things, don’t let them take what you have.

“Choke him out!” One of the men said, and the other was already pulling him from behind into a headlock. Pressure on his neck, Henrique knew the next steps, it would get dark, his legs would lose balance, his arms would get weak, and he’d lose consciousness. He’d lose everything he’d gained.

No.

“Grab the legs, take out his support. Bring him down, his grip will have to loosen.” His father’s voice echoed in Henrique’s head. He held onto the back of his assailant’s knee and threw himself backwards, forcing them both onto the ground. He used the chance to roll out of the man’s arms and try to stand up, but it was too late. A kick to the face and he’s back on the floor.

Henrique put his arms around his head. Direct hits there could be very dangerous. The man he’d knocked down quickly got up and joined the other in kicking the boy continuously, cruelly, to punish him for defending himself.

“When facing multiple opponents, be aggressive. Eliminate them as quickly as possible, in a prolonged fight you will always lose, even with a large advantage in skill.” Henrique took his switchblade from his jacket pocket and slashed horizontally with a yell, scoring a glancing blow at one of his aggressors’ leg while they backed away.

Henrique stood and lunged at one of the men in less than a second. He was going to stab his blade into the throat. He’d win, he’d be the strongest. He’d kill! Kill! Kill them both-

No…

Nonono no. He saw the robber’s face, scared. This guy couldn’t be more than 20 years old. Henrique wasn’t going to kill again! He didn’t want to be this kind of animal! He wouldn’t-

Steel, cold. It started as a sting in his belly, then the wetness, then the pain. It seems Henrique wasn’t the only one here with a knife. It Hurts, it hurts, it hurts. He fucked up, he’s so stupid. He should have killed them when he had the chance. The robber forcefully ripped out the knife, bringing fresh pain upon Henrique. Then he stabbed at the boy’s chest. Stupid, stupid, stupid. He’s gonna die and lose everything because he wasn’t strong enough to kill.

No!

Henrique held the forearm of the knife man in a death grip a few centimeters from his chest. He felt unnatural strength surging from inside him. His hand had grown that green scaled covering again. He squeezed, and felt bones crack under the pressure.

The robber screamed in pain and fear, dropping the knife and backing away in panic. Before the other one could react, a growl bubbled up from Henrique’s guts and came out as a roar as he struck him open-palmed on the cheek, leaving slash marks with his nails turned claws.

The desert street seemed to take on an orange glow as Henrique watched his two attackers step back hesitantly, then flee in terror turning their backs on the injured boy.

Breathing heavily, Henrique leaned his back against the wall and let himself slide down. He’d won. He’d gotten out alive, kept what was his and not killed anybody. He’d won. Henrique looked down and saw his shirt torn and with a growing dark stain. Could he keep using it after a good wash and some stitching?

Oh, yeah… He had to go home.

“I’m okay… I won… I’m okay…” Henrique repeated like a mantra, picking his thing off the floor and then pushing against the wall behind him to stand up. Home. Home. Benjamin. Elizabeth. Hugs. Home. Bed.

“I’m okay… I won… I’m okay…”

…

Henrique was lucky to be conscious enough to zip up his jacket before going into the hotel. He was still repeating the same words when he opened the door and saw Elizabeth sitting on the bed and Benjamin pacing back and forth, both awaiting his arrival.

“I’m- Oh, hey.” A tired wave was all he managed.

“Henrique!” Benjamin came running towards him. “Where were you? We were worried about your text. Did something happen?”

What message…? “I… got lost,” was all Henrique could say, “I brought a gift.” He weakly offered the shopping bag in his hand.

Benjamin’s eyes went from the bag to Henrique’s face repeatedly. “Tell me what happened to you, please.”

“You don’t need to know.” He’s okay, he won. He shouldn’t worry others with what he went through.

“You’re lying to me. You don’t trust me. No one here sees me as an equal!” Benjamin looked hurt. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

“I don’t want you to worry…”

Benjamin ran to the bathroom, the only room where it was really possible to isolate oneself and slammed the door. Wrong, wrong, it’s all wrong.

Henrique stumbled over to the bed, where he sat with his back against the wall.

“What happened, Henrique?” Asked Elizabeth, serious, but not accusative.

“Nothing much, I’m okay,” said Henrique, putting his left hand over his jacket zipper.

In one fluid movement, Elizabeth moved Henrique’s hand out of the way and opened his jacket all at once. The enormous bloodstain originating close to his stomach was revealed. “My god.”

“It’s nothing, see?” Henrique lifted up his shirt to show his skin had already regenerated over the stab wound, revealing a scaly hide in its place. “I’m not bleeding anymore. Sorry about the shirt.”

“The shirt really isn’t important at this time. Because you’re not bleeding, does that mean you don’t need help?” Henrique tried to pull the shirt back down, but Elizabeth didn’t let him.

“There’s no wound to care for,” he protested, but had no energy to stop her.

“Maybe, but I still want to care for you.” Elizabeth pulled off Henrique’s shirt and tossed it to a corner of the room, hugging him under the open jacket. “You were stabbed, Henrique. You don’t have to be okay right now.”

“I…” Henrique thought of arguments, justifications. But he was already tearing up, so he just put his arms around Elizabeth and hugged her tight. “Thanks…”

“Shh… I’m here. Don’t worry. I’m here.” She snuggled herself against Henrique, letting him come undone in her arms.

Job, home, Benjamin, Elizabeth, Hugs. It was all still here, it was all still his. He hadn’t lost anything. That’s good.

[fitzrove]

⌛ How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?

✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

⌛ How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?

Anything between an hour and a year... xD

If I'm actively working on something I'm a pretty fast writer, but I'm a frequent procrastinator and can also take lots of time to research and ponder things. I think my oldest WIP documents right now are from like February last year, with outlines in various stages of completion. I think considering the entire process, oneshots might take a week or so (unless I surprise myself and crank something out super fast) and longfics might take a few months.

✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

I’ve written one dialogue exchange word-for-word two independent times. XD But it’s steamy dialogue so I’m not sure if I should repeat it here hfghdhf. Luckily one of those fics is unpublished...

This is really hard to try to observe from “the inside” :D It’s especially hard to distinguish between things that started out intentional and have become a habit & things that worm their way in without my intentions.

OH, I think I did think of something - I think I put this kind of snarky, self-aware, self-mocking/self-pitying wisecracking in the internal monologue of the POV character regardless of who it is - a somewhat prickly (sometimes genre-savvy or lampshady) running commentary on different situations they encounter. It works for Rudolf, who by all accounts was historically quite clever and not afraid of showing it, but I’m not sure if it really works for other characters. However, I think that might honestly just be something I project onto various characters from my own personality... XD I can be quite snarky and critical, even about things I feel positively about and I always worry about doing it to excess and alienating people.

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

Oh... 😳 I guess... I’m proud of my writing for how it manages to evoke emotion? I read to feel and experience things and therefore it’s a sign of good writing to me that it induces an emotional state in the reader (lol, how clinical) (<- omg I’m doing the self-mocking snark thing, see??). But yeah, I’m generally good at writing the feels. And I’m a pretty excellent writer on a technical level, considering English is my second language ;)

[melodylnoelle]

Aftermath

The Cards Have Spoken - Week 2 (My cards)

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe Characters: Maris Hill. Tony Stark Category: Wild Card Timeline: Post-Thor: The Dark World Setting: Spaceship Warnings/Notes:  Suspense and potential for violence / We are trying to keep these all to a minimum of 500 words. You can use these same cards for your own story if you like, but please tag me and @brightsun-and-darkmidnight so that we can see what you do! Also sorry for the delay on these. The holidays are usually pretty hard for me and boy did they get me. Thank you to brightsun-and-darkmidnight for being so patient with me, I hope it was worth the wait! Please enjoy Words: 2607 (sorry sorry) Summary: Maria assists Tony with checking out a crash site after the Convergence Masterlist

           It had been a little under a week since the Convergence, and this was the third site Fury had sent her to.

           The first two hadn’t been overly exciting – clean-up from the battle in Greenwich, helping Interpol with the massive amount of dead Dark Elves and debris that were left behind. Fury took to debriefing Jane, Eric, Darcy, and Ian about events before addressing the general public – and worse, the Council – so that left Maria in charge of R&D and clean up for this particular mess.

           But as she flew over the area in the Quinjet, she understood why Fury had pulled her from Greenwich to investigate this.

           Smack-dab in the middle of a self-made clearing was a spaceship.

           As they landed, she saw Stark in the Iron Man suit waiting outside, the mask of the helmet slipped back to reveal his face. She pondered that for a moment, surprised that he would be waiting for her before getting a look at the place. She suspected that he might have done just that. If she learned one thing from working with him, it was that he didn’t fully trust anyone but himself.

           Smart, she thought. She chose not to mention anything to SHIELD.

           “Well, it’s about time you showed up,” he quipped as she descended the ramp. She had told the pilot to wait there and be ready for takeoff in case things went south, so she was the only one to great Tony.

           “My flight from London got delayed,” she joked back.

           He looked behind her like he was waiting for someone else to follow her. “What, this is the backup Fury promised? One person?”

           “Two if you count the pilot. We’re spread a little thin right now.”

           “I knew I should have called Captain Spandex.” He turned and started walking towards the Spaceship.

           She jabbed a finger over her shoulder, pointing to the Quinjet as she followed him. “I could just go back to Greenwich if you don’t need me. Then you can wait for your ‘army’ for two to three business days.”

           “No, no, this is fine. Juist be ready for spooky bad guys, just in case.”

           She rolled her eyes, but a small smile spread on her face as she continued following him. Had the jab come from anyone else, she would have left – maybe after a good right hook to the face. But this was Tony, and she learned long ago that these kinds of words were his terms of endearment. He wouldn’t have kept walking if he didn’t trust her, and she respected that.

           When they reached the entrance of the spaceship, she could see that it was partially buried in the dirt. There was a small electrical panel that she assumed served to open the door, but it was dimly lit up and flickering.

           “Jarvis, how’re we looking on life inside?” Tony asked as he handed her an earpiece to be able to hear. The mask of his helmet slid into place mid-sentence, making the words distorted.

           “-ING UP NO DETECTABLE LIFESIGNS, SIR,” she heard as she put the earpiece in.

           “What about movement, anything?” Tony’s voice was right next to her and in her ear.

           “NO MOVEMENT, SIR.”

           “Good, good. Heads up, Maria.” He raised his arm and blasted away some of the dirt with one of his repulsor beams.

           Maris shielded her eyes in time to avoid the dirt that sprayed in all directions. Her clothes, though, were covered. I’ve been here five minutes, she thought to herself.

           “You know, if I am going to keep going on all these missions with you guys, I’m going to have to put my dry cleaner on retainer.”

           Tony shrugged. “There’s also this new invention called a washing machine.” He stepped forward to place a small disc on the electrical panel. It glowed the same blue as the arc reactor implant he has.

          She had seen one of these before on a Helicarrier – he had used it to hack into SHIELD files while he was looking for the Tesseract.

           “Uh, is that wise? What if it’s booby trapped?”

           “A ship tat was unexpectedly sent to another planet and crash-landed? What makes you think it’s rigged?”

           “Something had to be flying it for it to have crashed that hard. And JARVIS said no life signs, so where did they go?”

           “FORGIVE ME, BUT THERE ARE NO DETECTABLE LIFESIGNS. IT IS POSSIBLE THEY ARE INORGANIC OR IN SOME FORM OF SUSPENDED ANIMATION, WHICH WOULD AVOID MY SENSORS. I HAVE BEEN UNABLE TO ACCESS THE SHIP’S COMPUTER.”

           Maria conceded the point. Even if she hadn’t, she knew it didn’t matter. Tony had already placed the disc.

           “Well, we’ll know in… a few seconds, hopefully.”

           As if on cue, the disc made a double-beep noise, and the door clicked as it released its lock. It opened just slightly.

           Maria pulled her firearm from its thigh holster, ready with it on standby as Tony moved into position to pry the door open.

           “I don’t see anything through the crack here.” He looked to her over his shoulder, holding both sides of the double door. “Ready?” At her nod, he powered up the suit more, using its strength to force the doors to slide open.

           He dodged back to stand by her quickly. She raised her firearm towards the open door.

           But nothing moved inside. Nothing came through.

           The looked to each other, and at Maria’s nod, they moved forward, Maria leading.

           The inside of the spaceship was dark greys and blacks, with faint hints of blue from what she assumed was emergency lighting. The door had opened to a low-ceilinged hallway that had other rooms and halls jutting off of it at different intervals as it led further in,

           Maria listened around the rush of blood in her ears for signs that anyone or anything was moving around inside. Each corner they came to, she waited at the edge, listening, waiting, before jolting out and aiming her gun into the new room.

           They decided to continue down this hall to see where it leads going into any of the other rooms that shot off from it, since there were so many. It took a while, but it paid off, as dumped them out in the control room of the ship. It was only slightly brighter than the hallway had been, There were five large consoles that were arranged in a circle in the center of the room, with breaks between them so someone could walk between them and stand in the middle. There was even a slight raise to the floor in the center of them, She couldn’t tell where the displays were supposed to be. The room itself was round, and had other archways that looked like they led to other hallways.

           “Jackpot,” Tony said. “Sentry mode.” He stepped out of the back of the suit, which became automated, standing guard and holding out an arm, ready to fire if needed. Tony headed to the center of the consoles, taking a moment to look at each panel in turn. “JARVIS, I’m gonna need some help getting in to this one.”

           “I SHALL ATTEMPT TO TURN ON THE PANELS, SIR. I HAVE BEEN MINING THROUGH THE DATA SINCE WE OPENED THE DOOR AND HAVE BEEN UNABLE TO DETERMINE THE ORIGIN OF THE SHIP.”

           “Well, I’ll help with that once the panels are on.”

           Maria observed quietly as they talked. She felt a spike of panic as she watched Tony reach for a button on the panel closest to her and pressed it.

           The panels hummed to life, and the lights turned a little brighter in the room. Above each console, a flickering hologram came to life, answering her question about the displays.

           Tony was frozen with his hand on the button other than looking around the room. When he waited for a moment and nothing else happened, he exhaled and relaxed. “Never mind, I got it.”

           Maria allowed her body to relax as well, but kept her gun ready in her hand. “How did you know what button would turn it on?”

           Tony looked to her almost confused, as if he had forgotten she was there. But he shook it off quickly and pointed to the button. “It was separate from all the other ones. Power buttons are usually off on their own, right?”

           “So are self-destruct buttons.” She raised an eyebrow at him.

           His face flickered concern for a moment, but he shrugged. “No risk, no reward?” He spoke like it was a question.

           Maria rolled her eyes at him again, then nodded towards the computers. “Anything more on life signs.”

           “Uh,” Tony drew the word out as he looked around at the consoles. “Yea, about that. JARVIS, I’m gonna need help translating this.”

           “I AM NOT FAMILIAR WITH THE LANGUAGE, BUT I WILL DO WHAT I CAN.”

           Tony looked back to her. “I’ll work on that one. Unless you recognize any of this.”

           She walked over, still keeping her gun angled and at the ready, and stood in the center with him. The displays were all slightly different – one had just a banner in a language that she had never seen before – a mix of symbols and blocks that seemed to be broken up into individual words. Another panel had a schematic of the ship with words floating around in various spots next to it, some of the areas of the ship lighting up in red. Damage from the crash, she imagined. Still another had text blocks broken up into sections.

           She blew out a breath, and shook her head. “Nope, not going to be any help from me on that one.”

           “Right,” Tony’s mouth drew into a line. “Why, exactly, did I call you again?”

           “To make sure you stayed out of trouble.” She patted him on the back and started walking away from the displays. “Well, while you work on all that, I am going to have more of a look around.”

           “Isn’t that risky?” he asked in a mocking tone.

           “No risk, no reward, remember?” she chuckled, calling over her shoulder as she went to another hall across the room. “Besides, it bears standing here doing nothing while you play with your new toys.”

           “You know, out of context, that could be taken as sexual harassment!” He called after her.

           She laughed a little at that one.

           She proceeded down this hallway as carefully as she had the first time, though the lighting was a little bit better this time around. This hallway was similarly built, though there were more rooms than other halls jutting off from it.

           She had made it about hallway down the hall before one of the rooms made her pause.

           Inside the room was a glowing panel. It was brighter than the others, with more purples than blues. After making sure there was no one in the room, she moved closer, studying it. When she got closer, she realized that it was not a panel, but a light that was moving inside some sort of glass case or display. It pulsed in a way that was mesmerizingly beautiful. It pulled her forward. She lowered her gun, though she kept it loosely in her hand. She was having a hard time taking her gaze off it. It was swirling, twisting around itself in a way that made it look like a liquid and a solid all at once.

           She touched her hand to the glass. It was warm, as though something was heating it on the other side.

           She didn’t know how long she stood there, staring at it, but it took Tony’s voice over her headset to break her from the trance. “Hill, come in.”

           His voice was full of concern, and it ripped her focus away, reminding her where they were. “Here. Did you figure out where this ship came from?” She still hadn’t taken her eyes off the purple, shifting light, or her hand off the glass.

           “Yea, uh… No. But you remember when we were talking about the ship being rigged? Or self-destructs?”

           She froze. “You didn’t.”

           “Hey, you try poking around a computer that you can’t even read.”

           “Then how do you know the self-destruct was even set?”

           “I do know how to read a countdown when I see one. Though I can’t read the numbers to know how much time we have-“

           “We need to move,” she said, cutting him off.

           “Agreed, I’m coming to you.”

           “No.” She tightened the grip on her gun, finally finding it in herself to pull away from the glass and start moving. “Start making for the exit. I won’t be far behind.”

           “I’m not just going to leave you here.”

           “You’re not, I’ll be right behind you. Just go.” She started running, letting the force of her doing so color her tone.

           “You better be. I don’t want to hear about it from Fury if you don’t make it.”

           “Just move. Get a hold of the pilot and make sure he knows what’s up.”

           “I WILL TAKE CARE OF IT, SIR.” JARVIS’s tinny voice chimed in through her headset.

           She dashed around the place where the hallway had bent, the archway to the control room coming into view. Even from here, she could see the displays from the consoles had all changed. Where they had all been different before, they now were all identical – a red band across the top with big, white letters, and a running countdown with numbers that she did not recognize.

           She cursed to herself, pumping her legs faster. Sweat was dripping off her forehead and into her eyes, but she didn’t have time to wipe it off. She tried to blink it away as she rounded another corner to the hall that led to the exit.

           There was a crackling coming from some sort of overhead speaker system, but it sounded distorted and broken. She didn’t know if that was how the language was supposed to sound, or if the system had broken in the crash.

           No time to find out.

           She didn’t see Tony again until she was outside. She didn’t let herself slow down, pushing herself harder to get across the expanse of field between the door and the Quinjet.

           She jumped the last bit of distance, landing on her side on the floor of the jet.

           “Go, go!” Tony said once she was inside. He slammed on the button to close the ramp.

           The pilot didn’t wait for it to be closed all the way before starting the jet forward. He turned up in the air with just enough clearance not to hit the trees. Tony held onto her arm to keep her in place until the jet leveled out.

           Below them, there was a loud boom of the ship exploding into pieces. The shockwave hit them and rocked them up further, and she saw bits of trees and dirt fly past the windows.

           She breathed deeply, trying to slow the pace of her heart. She slid over to lean against the row of seats in the back of the jet. Her body screamed with exhaustion, and she rested her head against it. “You know…what,” she said around more deep breaths. “I think I’m gonna… let the clean up crew handle this one once they’re free.”

           “Good call, good call…” Tony drifted off for a moment before turning back to her, grinning. “Hey, how do you feel about schwarma? I know this good place in New York if you’re down for a break.”

           She laughed, nodding, and she let him tell the pilot where to reroute to.

[offthefieldsmau]

⚽ 1.14

As far as coffee dates with team dads you’ll be coaching their pee-wee soccer teams went, Ed would have said this was probably the best he had ever been on.

And fuck did he have to dash the thought away of “This is the best date I’ve ever been on, period,” because the path that led down was not something to ponder as the sun looked ready to set on a Tuesday.

“So,” Stede said as he set down his half-drank cup and when his phone notified him of another text message, he typed a quick message and pocketed the device (the furrow in his brow was too cute,) “we should probably talk about the team at some point.”

Ed smiled at him, “But I was so invested in your cat adoption story.”

Stede got that cute shade of pink across his cheeks again, “Yes, well, I’ve got plenty of silly stories,” and his long fingers carded through those golden curls; Ed couldn’t look away if he tried, “but I’ll need to pick up the kids soon.”

Ah. Right. The D in DILF.

“Yeah, no of course,” Ed sipped his coffee, “what should we discuss?”

Stede folded his hands in his lap, “It’s all pretty straight forward — we’re Flight 2, so it’s more competitive youth soccer. We stay within clumps of the county — I don’t know exactly where you’re located, but it’s not like we’re traveling far by any means. Unless we make the championships, which is unlikely. 16 games a season. Usually two practices a week. I can send you all the location information, too.”

Ed was paying attention. He was watching, at least. Not so much hearing, as his eyes kept drifting down to Stede’s lips and looking at the way his curls licked at his ears. It was ridiculous how attractive he was — wireframes sitting on the cute jut of his nose, hands gesturing casually as he explained…

What, exactly? Ed got lost in a world of thoughts that consisted of “Is he wearing a sports coat to a coffee meetup?” and “what kind of cologne is that?” and “I wonder where his wedding ring is.”

“—which you’re invited to, of course. But that’s about it! Do you have any questions?”

Ed realized he was leaning forward, gazing at Stede, and quickly sat straight, “Uh, can you repeat that last part?”

Stede, feeling the way Ed’s eyes tracked him, sat back in his chair and hid his nervous smile behind a sip of coffee, “We have a team pre-season barbeque. I usually host it — the kids come over, play in the pool, the parents mingle. It’s pretty standard suburban life. You’re more than welcome to come and meet the team and parents, of course. I’m sure they’d love to meet you.”

“I’m sure they would,” Ed muttered to himself. And the idea of rubbing elbows with soccer enthusiasts who heard Blackbeard would be coaching their team didn’t sit well with him.

It wasn’t an enticing idea, but the way Stede’s eyes — a kaleidoscope of gold and green and brown — looked at him so earnestly, Ed couldn’t help the voice in his head. It repeated that ever-present thought, like an angel on his shoulder, goading him into taking this new adventure of his life with a full-steam-ahead gusto.

“I’d love to be there. Especially if I get to meet Gizmo,” Ed grinned after a sip of his latte, “and the kids, of course.”

“Right! The kids,” Stede checked his watch absently, but quickly returned his attention to Ed, “I think they’ll love you. You’re great company. With me, at least.”

“You’re not bad company yourself, tiger,” and as Stede blushed a more prominent red after the wink Ed threw his way registered, Ed made a solemn vow to get Stede as flustered as possible every single time they met.