#also I really hope this helps I found this in my drafts from ages ago

[glbettwrites]

11/10/2024

Creators' Club: Weekly Friday Roundup!

It's been my absolute favourite writing week of the last few years for me and I think a roundup will help me see everything I've done and encourage me to keep going. So let's see...

Exactly a week ago, I put my beloved The Mummers' Masque on hiatus and decided that RETROSEER was going to be the WIP I put all my focus into for now. I decided I wanted something that wasn't so worldbuilding-heavy to ease me back into writing. And I've quickly fallen in love with this project now I've reworked it from an older idea!

I've been working on the lore of the 'apocalypse' scenario that features in this world, balancing a kind of mild apocalypse setting (regression of society but not total) with the supernatural elements that are the focus of the An Asphalt Odyssey world.

In a very short space of time a summary of the plot came to me and I put out the WIP intro! And since then I've been working on outlining each chapter in paragraphs before I move it over to my spreadsheet.

So far I have the eight chapters of Act One outlined beat by beat, at about 3.5k words, and I'm very happy with it! I'm onto Act Two pt.1 now (I do the Act One, Two pt.1, Two pt.2, Three, Ending structure) but had to take a pause as I worked on side characters so I have a better grasp of the plot threads.

Which brings me to my favourite part of the week...character work! Many of these were pre-existing characters so my focus was working on their roles in the stories and evolving certain aspects of their personalities.

I fell in love with Jamie and Lane as a couple, putting out some fun memes when my brain was too foggy to work on other stuff (here + here).

I also found face claims for all of my major cast (excluding a couple of antagonists, though I still put Ofelia in here, my feral lycan lady)!

I'm really happy with them all, I think they're absolutely perfect for the characters I pictured. I also put out a quick reference for what each character's deal is if anyone's curious. I'll be overjoyed to answer any questions people have about them; I love them all dearly.

Lastly, today I found two rough locations for the start and end of Jamie & Lane's 'roadtrip'. Unfortunately for them, it won't be as straightforward a route as the map predicts!:

Next week: I hope to get Act Two outlined (or because it's chunky at least Act Two pt.1), delve deeper and maybe write some character backstories, and start doing some snippets to start properly finding character voices! I also may translate the first act of my paragraph outline into my spreadsheet. And who knows what else?

I still aim to start writing the first draft of RETROSEER in November. Doing the 50k November (NaNope) challenge to kickstart the WIP. Unfortunately Dragon Age, the game I've been waiting for for 10 years, is released on Halloween so it's going to be a HUGE practice in self-restraint this year. Might make myself only game after I've done my words for the day. But we'll see how it goes! :)

Creators' Club Daily Writeblr Games & Asks from @bardic-tales!

[fractured-shield]

Fractured Shield Masterlist:

Draft 1 of new version in progress, completed through ch9

asks/messages are always welcome, I also tag #ask games and #tag games, also I have a tag list now if anyone wants to join

OC introductions: Therien, Idhren, Oenith (more to come)

About me:

you might be here from my main blog @ath3alin, but here's a writblr-specific intro: hi, I'm ath3alin, any pronouns, mid-20s. my first tattoo was in honor of my favorite oc. I make chain mail jewelry, I'm partial to really cliche power metal, and I can kind of play 4 instruments. I'm also into cosplay and crochet and playing video games really badly. I have an orange cat named Phin, which is short for Egg McMuffin and Acetaminophen and Nelyafinwë and whatever's funniest when I'm asked

header and icon picrews by @elena-illustration

About my work:

Fractured Shield is a queer high fantasy series, centering around an irreverent yet flighty girl trying her best to make sense of her place in the changing world around her. It explores themes of longevity and loss: what happens when you know you won't have a peaceful death from old age, only injury or sickness? How do you live with hundreds of years of grief, and how will you be judged by those who only know the worst days of your life as a page in a history book?

After the death of her mother, a lesser noble who abandoned any inherited title in favor of peace activism, Therien is sent to live with her father’s friend in Rhorn. It’s temporary, her papa assures her, because as the weight of past trauma rears its head again in the wake of his partner’s death, he’s barely able to care for himself, let alone a child who he doesn’t want to hurt further with his perceived weakness.

The only problem: Rhorn is a kingdom of Hyse: humans. And Therien is an elf, exactly as clumsy and idealistic and frustrated with her youth as any teen, her foreign accent landing her with the same label as any elf: “Forsaker.”

After five years, she returns home…with the Eastern Expanse on the brink of another war, and herself fitting in no better with her own people than she did in Rhorn. The dragon-mages have found a new pair of sovereigns with the birth of another Aureate Standardbearer: a blessed dragon that signifies its keeper’s divine right to rule. The last one was slain by King Lineirthon and Warmaster Maithyr, but such heroes are long gone, their cities and fortresses crumbled into ruin hundreds of years ago, consumed by the same plague that now threatens Rhorn.

Her father is a councillor and soldier who’s lived through centuries of fighting and never really stopped grieving the people lost along the way. He’s trying his best to protect her, both from the brewing war and from the messy parts of his guilt at living through the ones before it. She’s set on trying to help with both, hoping for some sort of purpose amidst her frantic attempts at fitting in with a culture she’s lost touch with, with people more capable from hundreds of years more experience.

She gets her wish in a mere two years, though it seems a lifetime to her, and both she and her friends from Rhorn find themselves caught up in the war and well over their heads. Her own anxious preparations and her father’s worry can only protect her so far. As the war continues on, the months stretching into years, what is there on the other side of the unfounded idealism of her youth? Can she even hope to be of any help in the war, or even to help her papa survive his own despair?

[dangerouslyintofictionalloves]

(Bucky Barnes) A Little Messed Up #2

Warnings: Hey y'all this short story is not gonna be a cute or romantic plot. Just wanted to warn y'all that this short fanfic is more of a breakup plot between the two characters.

Story Warnings: Angst, Established Relationship with an Age Gap, Mentions of Infidelity

Also I wrote this years ago, so it has been sitting in my wattpad unpublished dungeon for ages. I just thought that I'd give everything I ever wrote more of a chance to shine on Tumblr to see how it does. For some reason I just feel more comfortable publishing things here. Even if I have multiple versions or drafts of a story. Anyways, holy moly, thank you guys so much for those of you that have read and enjoyed part one. I honestly didn't think it was that good since I wrote it such a long time ago and I've been out of practice with writing for a while. I did start part two but majority of this continuation is all new! I took what I had with my draft and just built off of it and took some things, added others etc. I hope y'all enjoy this part as much as the first one.

Taglist: @cjand10

Main OC Character Dahlia

Plot From Part 1: Dahlia is Bucky's girlfriend. They met when he had just escaped HYDRA. She helped keep him hidden. Being a secret little goodie goodie she never really got to do anything exciting with her life so she saw this as a chance to live her life well and help someone along the way. After a while of training and recruitment once Bucky and Dahlia become part of the Avengers things are not seemingly going smooth as Natasha and Bucky are sent out on a mission together and he comes back distant. This triggers powers in Dahlia that she hadn't used since her childhood when she was going through a dark time dealing with bullies, and judgement.  Additional Plot Information that I didn't specify in the first part since I am just remembering how I even came to writing this story in the first place... Dahlia helped Bucky hide during that time that Steve/Captain America was looking for his best friend in Captain America Civil War timeline. The Bucharest Scene we see in the movie is- in the plot- set after he left her for "her own safety", so she was helping him hide from Steve essentially & HYDRA and feeding him etc. giving him companionship and providing for him with her entry level wages as best as she could before we see Bucky get found by Cap in Bucharest.

Side OC Character Xander

A few months or so has gone by and it is finally the day that Natasha and Bucky return from their mission.

Fortunately for Dahlia, everyone at Stark Tower has been of great help when it comes to her recently awakened abilities.

To rewind things back to how things went with Steve and Tony.

Since the day Steve and Tony had discovered her abilities, it took a while for them both to process everything they witnessed from the security cameras.

It took about a week or so before the both of them confronted Dahlia about her powers together. 

At first she was hesitant to open up about her abilities at all since she never learned to control them to their fullest potential, only on a small scale she was able to manipulate little things.

For example revealing Xander's human form with a wave of her hand over his shadow silhouette. Although that was never witnessed on cameras so that may be something that Tony Stark and Captain America are most likely still kept in the dark about.

Seeing her hesitancy, the pair had decided to return back to the topic in a comforting and cozy room that Tony had built as an addition to the tower.

It ensured that Dahlia always had somewhere to go whenever she was feeling overwhelmed with life.

It was Cap's idea, he thought that if she had a place in Stark Tower to go to whenever her emotions were becoming overwhelming and she was not able to regulate them on her own- that she would see how much she is valued on the team and how much her well-being truly impacts everyone.

Tony just saw it as the easiest way to get what he wants so you know Mr. Rich Money Bags had to be extremely extra.

With Dahlia's 'room' (It's Tony Stark, I say room but come on-he really wanted to get information from Dahlia in the best and fastest way possible so it was more like she got a whole ass cozy comfort floor to herself because he's impatient and somehow great at getting his way).

With Dahlia's floor zone complete, it took a month or so, but slowly overtime when she realized that Stark was not going to take away her newly designated safe zone after getting information out of her, she was able to open up about her past history and her oddly natural occurring abilities with Tony and Steve.

From there they had only planned to keep an extra watchful eye on her.

Wanda and Vision found out about the powers later on.

(give or take a day or so since it's Wanda and Vision, tbh I am surprised they never sensed it from her when she had joined the team in the first place but that's a whole thing in itself)

The only reason they really noticed her powers was because it was so difficult for her to control at the time that it was starting to interfere with her normal routine that everyone had become so accustomed to.

They observed her daily, whenever she was training, in the common communal rooms, and when she thought she was alone while out on a walk or enjoying nature at the local parks.

They noticed little things here and there about how certain emotions triggered the mist and what type of reaction her body was having whether it was fight, flight, or fawn.

Wanda met with Tony after he figured out that they also knew about Starlight's abilities. There he showed her the footage that F.R.I.D.A.Y. had captured when her abilities seemed to show up at a force that even shocked her.

With this information Wanda was able to communicate with Vision on the best course of action to help Star become a stronger and more independent young woman and now Avenger/Assassin. 

She trained with Wanda every Tuesday and Thursday. While Vision took over her training sessions every Wednesday and Friday. Mondays and the weekend were off for other missions and resting.

Their training sessions were definitely not a walk in the park by a long shot... BUT- despite all the blood, sweat, & tears (hahaha BTS blood, sweat & tears. sorry sorry just had to put that out there before I go insane from my own audhd thoughts.) Dahlia truly came out stronger.

She was able to understand herself and her abilities in ways that she never knew before and that was all thanks to them. To say she was grateful for their help would be an understatement.

She will never forget the impact that Wanda and Vision had on her ever.

As for Xander, he watched her in the shadows. Making sure she was safe and knowing she was just getting better at suppressing her emotions since he was still in the human world.

He had never stayed in the human world very long before, outside of the shadow realm when she didn't need active comfort or protection.

Maybe she was still coping and healing, but even then- he didn't understand how he was feeling.

As a figment of her imagination essentially- Xander was wondering if he would become more human the longer he stayed.

He wasn't sure if he was able to continue going back and forth from the Shadow Realm to the human realm as normal since this had never happened before.

Dahlia had never known how to truly control her abilities, and Xander had never been summoned to stay in the human realm for such a long time- consecutively.

It was no surprise that she was just thinking of the same thing.

Just as Dahlia had decided to return to her room to discuss her concerns with Xander, Natasha and Bucky had returned from their mission.

The young raven haired girl cursed to herself in the hallway as she closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath through pursed lips.

The entire team that was at Stark Tower had gone to welcome the pair back home from their lengthy, dangerous mission.

Peter being the only member of the avengers that was closest in age to Dahlia felt off when he realized that she didn't immediately run into Bucky's arms, celebrating his safe return like she usually does.

Dahlia stood frozen in the hallway, shoulder leaning against the wall to support her weight as she took in all his gruff features.

At this moment, she wondered what she ever saw in Bucky. He was older than her, that's a given with him being the Winter Soldier and all.

Sure, he's charming and has that type of vibe where it makes any woman with a kind heart think to herself 'maybe I can fix him' 'maybe I can be the one to make him happy'.

That being said, after his bro hug reunion with Steve, his cold ocean stare locked onto her empty midnight orbs.

This emotion threw Bucky off guard as he noticed how cold her gaze was as she looked at him.

He was so used to her warm cheery aura whenever he returned from a dangerous mission, deep down he felt the guilt starting to creep up on him.

It took him some time to process that she also wasn't giving him her routine welcome home hugs and praise. This left him completely dumbfounded as he was trying to figure out what she knew and how she would ever find out about his hook ups during this mission as this was the first time he had ever given in to his lustful impulses.

Natasha noticed the tension between the couple before anyone else caught onto the vibe of the room and made her way towards Dahlia pulling the younger girl into a tight embrace and melting away that cold stone heart she had displayed on her sleeve momentarily.

She didn't realize that Peter Parker had already noticed Dahlia's behavior. But, by the time it dawned on her and before she could check on the teen, Dahlia finally smiled as she was engulfed into pure warmth and love, giggling slightly as Natasha swayed them in their hug.

Peter's heart fluttered slightly hearing the genuine lighthearted tone from the slightly older young woman. Seeing her smile so brightly after her emotionless stare down with Bucky made his heart melt and forget that she was actively in a relationship with the Winter Soldier.

Author Note: Sorry this one seems so short! I wanted to make sure to get something out there since I haven't posted on this blog in what feels like forever. I hope you enjoyed this part.

[dangerously-human]

Tagged by @saxifrage-wreath to share my top 7 Spotify on-repeat songs. I'm sure it will surprise absolutely no one to learn these are all off my Lockwood & Co playlist:

Won't Give Up - Colony House (hi this song makes me SOB on a daily basis; it fits really really well for both Lucy and Lockwood trying to outrun their trauma; "I've got the devil on my back trying to take home from me" is, as I've said before, a very post-THB line for Lucy; "I see Jesus out in front, he's reaching back for the lonely, reaching back 'cause he loves me, I take his hand because she loved me" is a Lockwood line for sure - interpret "she" as Jessica or Lucy or both - the whole thing is just devastating yet also hopeful, which is so the L&C vibe, is it not?)

Ghost in the Valley (have also mentioned this before, gives me Emotions™ about Lockwood seeing his parents' ghosts by the apple tree)

Haunted - The Band CAMINO (Black Winter angst, used to title Living with the Ghost of You)

Best is yet to Come - Judah & the Lion (also makes me cry! In a Lockwood & Co context and also like real life. Perfectly captures the found family of Portland Row, people who've been hurt so badly and spent their lives believing they were broken or made wrong and then find belonging and purpose and so much hope and resilience together)

Last Wish - Till Death (perfect instrumental-only writing/focus music that captures The Vibe especially well for haunted angst; was on heavy rotation for Living With the Ghost of You as well as the TCS chapter of Not Even a Doorknob Between You)

Twenty Something - Nightly (mostly was used for the drunk and moping angst factor for LWtGoY)

Follow Me Down - Colony House (oh look, more from LWtGoY, including "Must have lost myself last night" as a chapter title. The begging to be seen and helped up is Lockwood all over, and then that line toward the end, "I'd rather have life to give than only my life to live" is, uh. Very alarmingly Lockwood and his warped concept of sacrifice)

Tagging @loubuttons, @contagiousgrace (partly because I guiltily acknowledge you tagged me in something like this ages ago and it got lost in my drafts somewhere, so I'm counting this as my attempt at a response), @womaninwinter, and @cakeyouareoh, with no pressure whatsoever!

[starlight-time-machine]

Week in Review

05/12/2024 – 05/18/2024

Sunday

Week 14 of missing Cipher Academy

Not much to say about Girl Meets Rock except hell yeah Hatocchi get his ass!!!!

UNDEAD UNLUCK IS CRAZY GOOD THIS WEEK WOAGHHHHHHHHHHHHAHHHHH This battle was predicated on the idea of “imagination”, but now it has developed into the idea of “conviction”, given how Feng’s determination helped power the cannon and plant the seed of doubt in Lang’s mind. BUT ALSO NICO OPENING THE WORMHOLE TO THE MASTER RULES ROOM IS AMAZINGGGGGGGGGGG I LITERALLY SCREAMED OUT LOUD LMAOOOOOOOOO it’s simultaneously the funniest shit ever while also being a genius move, and seeing Soul being absolutely flabbergasted is so incredible. But then seeing him appear to feel genuinely frustrated and sad at Lang’s defeat is also really interesting…of course Tozuka would give the villains compassion and care for each other…love is one of the central themes of UU after all…and this makes this war all the more compelling… That last spread is genuinely so beautiful…Lang conceding defeat and granting her foe some happiness in her final moments…NicoIchi marriage…it’s just so peak… I don’t know how UU manages to top itself every week but god it feels good to be a part of the journey.

Obligatory beach episode in Oshi no Ko is fine, there are some fun jokes in there. And the love triangle seems to be resolving itself…if not for the Ruby thing LMAO

I’m glad they got that guy out of the air in Dandadan, because the drawings of hand to hand combat are just gorgeous.

Damn, the information drop in One Piece is actually insane…it feels surreal to be finally hearing history that I first got hints about literally ten years ago…

Ahghhrhghghaeujglhgeayhgj the new SpyFam chapter…Martha/Henry is so so so so so so sooooo good…SpyFam is so good when it’s a genuine war drama because it doesn’t shy away from how war permeates and affects society…the kids going through air siren drills and the talk of drafts and everyone’s futures…Martha suffering the loss of her dream and taking control of her life by enrolling in the army and confessing to Henry, only for the bell of war to toll once more and shove a wedge between them that will last for most of their lives…agh… I really hope they get together, and not just at the end of the manga like a lot of shounen manga like to do because I want to see them explore their new dynamic in their old age… If only every manga was as proactive and caring about romance as Undead Unluck is…

I reread Hoshi Dake ga Shitteru to see if I would want to buy it when the officially licensed book comes out and I think I will…! The writing in this was always pretty refreshing to read, and it’s fun and realistic to watch Kengo and Sora slowly orbit around each other and read each other’s intentions until they finally concede that they’re in love. And the astronomy theming and all this talk about dreams is just the cherry on top because it reminds me of Twin Spica. It’s an 8/10 for me, and I’m looking forward to picking up the physical version.

Finally finished reading If You’re Reading This, It’s Too Late… I’ve harped on about my issues with this series enough, so I’ll just say that the gist of my problem with it is that it’s a fairly shallow narrative. I’m sure that kids enjoy it, and I probably did as a kid myself, but it’s not particularly rewarding to revisit as an adult because there’s no added depth to be found. Just a quirky series banking on punny humor and the allure of a big mystery and a secret society that lets kids work for them for whatever reason. Unfortunately I’m committed to seeing this series through to the end, so you’ll probably get a lot more griping from me.

Man…I think I’m genuinely too stupid to understand Monogatari. I finished Nekomonogatari Black today and I just feel confused… Monogatari’s trademark of long-winded conversations just leave me always playing catch up as I try to understand the line I just heard while the next line is being said. I went to go read some essays about Nekomonogatari and I think I get it more now, but I don’t get Araragi at all…I rarely do… Maybe I should read the books, at least I can control the pacing there…but I feel like Monogatari might just not be for me, because I can hardly feel emotionally impacted by it when I can’t tell what’s going on. I really wanted to like Monogatari, though…it seems to mean a lot to a lot of people and I love Cipher Academy by the same author so much so I don’t know why this just isn’t clicking for me…

I watched the second episode of Smartypants and it was about as mildly entertaining as the first. Jess’ presentation felt the most straightforward, just straight up facts rather than jokes lol. Jacob’s was solid and genuinely funny at times and came to a satisfying conclusion, much like Trapp’s in the last episode, but I think my favourite of the three has to be Katie’s for her sheer commitment and enthusiasm. I relate, as an egg lover myself…

Monday

Living Dead…Sleeping Dead… Having now read the ending, the name of the manga hits like a truck… Both can refer to Sada, of course, but I’m also inclined to believe that Living Dead also refers to Mamiya in a way… He was aimless in life, only chasing the one ambition he knew and leaving behind the rest of the world in the process… But Sada brought him back…and tried to keep him there, even using up his last moments to try and impart that message to him… Meanwhile, the Sleeping Dead moniker makes me want to die because it’s what Mamiya desperately wanted for Sada in the end…but of course it couldn’t come to pass… This story was never going to end happily… I was surprised to see Mamiya just straight up admit his feelings, but I suppose it was the last chapter so the mangaka wanted to get things moving along. But god, seeing them being intimate and Mamiya slowly opening up to happiness was so incredible…and it only made the ending all the more tragic. Narratively, I think the story was a bit all over the place and not always in control of what direction it wanted to go in, but that last conversation somehow tied everything together and illuminated the themes of the work so beautifully that I can’t even be mad. But god I feel so miserable…8/10…

At least the new Oni to Tengoku chapter cheered me up somewhat…Aoki and Tengoku’s tentative relationship and its down to earth writing is always fun to read about…

And then I read Koisuru Psycho no Shirayuki-kun lmao It seems to be a quintessential edgy “get revenge on your cartoon bullies” escapist power fantasy, but the BL theming and excellent figure art have intrigued me… I normally wouldn’t read a story like this but sure, I’ll watch the “crazy” guy kill some kids for his crush, why not. Everything about this story is so over the top, though, so let’s see if I get annoyed enough to drop it before it concludes.

Tuesday

I’d been itching to read another Sammy Keyes book so I picked up Sammy Keyes and the Art of Deception today and finished it in one sitting lol I love this series so much that I’m trying savour them and not read them all at once, so it’s always a treat when I do get to read one. This entry was pretty cute, with some musings about the value and purpose of art in a way that a younger audience could appreciate and some more progress on the Sammy/Casey romance front, but the highlight for me was definitely seeing Rita take more of an active role in the mystery. It’s nice to learn more about her and see her step out of the “worried guardian” role for a bit, and the old people love quandrangle was really fun to watch play out. Personally I think Rita deserves to have a fling with Lance before marrying Hudson but that’s just me. The mystery was kind of the weakest link here, given how 80% of its runtime was less so about a specific crime and more “things seem suspicious, better investigate”, but it was still decently interesting.

Wednesday

I tried reading Moju by Edogawa Ranpo, but the translation was a little off and filled with typos and grammatical errors that I couldn’t really get into it (and after looking up the translator, it seems like this wasn’t a one-time occurrence). The intro itself was also meh – it seems a little ridiculous that after two run-ins with the blind man, Ranko wouldn’t connect the dots right away that the weird guy wearing sunglasses at her show is the same guy??? And I’m sure the ero-guro stuff was shocking for 1931, but now it just reads as edgy slasher stuff. So yeah, no thanks.

Thursday

DunMesh with a side of excellent spicy noodles today – I used水煮鱼 broth, shanxi noodles, ricecakes filled with cheese, spring onions, and some meatballs I made yesterday and oh my god it was so good. Possibly the best “throw stuff together” meal I’ve ever made for myself. I felt very immersed in the dungeon cooking experience. Watching Izutsumi learn how to actually relate to people and be a part of a team is very cute! Also a nice lesson in learning how to deal with things you don’t like in order to move forward in life.

Friday

Drag Race All Stars 9 huh… I have to be honest…I’m not really feeling this season… I’m glad that they’re competing for these great causes, but now it feels like Drag Race is trying too hard to be a “feel good” activism season and the vibes are just way off. This overly positive tone was fitting when it was the winners season and we were celebrating the girls’ achievements and how skilled they are at their craft, but it’s not really working for me here. I guess part of the issue is that there isn’t anyone I’m particularly rooting for in this group? And then not having eliminations sucked a lot of tension out of the room… I think I’ll actually skip this season entirely. I’ve been watching every main Drag Race and All Stars season since 6 and 3 respectively, but I’m just not compelled enough to continue with this one. I did watch the first episode, though, and it was alright. The song performance was weirdly good in a way where I feel like production stepped in to help (it definitely felt like they were trying to avoid turning the charity song into a meme if one of the verses flopped), but then the sudden perfume themed runway threw me way off. This is something that would’ve been its own main challenge back in the day (flashbacks to that extremely weird animated sidekick challenge from season 9??), and seeing it thrown in here for seemingly no reason was so weird. At least the voiceovers were all pretty funny, and the outfits were nice…except for Gottmik’s. Literally what was that…the placement of the chains was so weird and random and unflattering, and the base was just a basic black dress… Gottmik was a favourite of mine on season 13, so this was a bit of a disappointment. Plastique’s outfit was pretty amazing, I was marvelling at the mechanics of having two sets of wings that closed over each other…it’s definitely a step up from the Courtney Act wings, though those still have a special place in my heart. But yeah, the vibes are just off and I don’t want to watch the rest of the season.

Saturday

To be honest I was sad today but then a four hour video essay I’ve been anticipating for two years got posted just as I was about to eat dinner so I spent most of my day watching that instead of anything else

[on-new-years-tay]

Here’s a guide to cheap but very good and universal beauty products :)

Vaseline 

can tame frizzy hair, make your brows stay at its place & enhance growth, be a mouisturizer, bodylotion, highlighter, make your nails look healthy & shiny, clean off your makeup 

Apple Cider Vinegar 

pls be careful with it but basically it works as a toner, balances your hair if you put it in after washing; let sit & rinse, whitens your teeth 

Glossier’s Balm Dotcom Skin Slave 12$

is a lip balm, mousturizer, bodylotion, soothes dry spots and protects your skin

Weleda Skin Food 19$/6€

very good mouisturizer even with makeup, very good against dryness, can be a mask, tame your hair, be a body& hand lotion, soothe skin

Garnier Facial Mist Spray Rose Water 16€

is a very nice toner & works well as makeup prep, refreshes face & mouisturizes too

Eye Drops

not only mouisturizes & refreshes eyes but works well against pimples and makes your eyes look bigger too 

Oils:

Coconut oil

can make hair & nails look healthy, be a highligter, enhances growth for brows & lashes, makes your skin smooth when shaving, improves skin

Olive oil

good for brow, hair, lashes growth

Argan Oil

moisturises skin, protects from sun damage, enhances growth, moistures hair, treats acne, anti aging, heals wounds, reduces stretch marks, improves skin 

Hacks

frozen Green Tea Bags (can burn, pls look at the ingredients!)

cold spoons

both work against eyebags

just drink a lot of water? stay hydrated!

wash your brows to help them grow

brush your lips with toothbrush to smoothen 

message your face 

basically if you have lipstick you can also use it as blush and eyeshadow 

Good& cheap Skincare brands

the ordinary (nice skincare for 10 each)

CeraVe (has very good eye cream, moisturiser and cleanser)

Neutrogena (nice moisturizer and eye cream which you can also use to plump up your lips)

Garnier

Pixi

Cetaphil

Dove

Aquaphor

Good & cheap Make-up brands

BH Cosmetics

Maybelline

LA Girl

NYX (some products are overprized, but you’ll definately find a lot of products that are worth it)

Models own (very good concealer) 

L’ Oreal (their matte lipstick is getting a lot of praise) 

elf

also here is a guide for black-owned beauty companies:

https://www.byrdie.com/how-to-shop-for-black-owned-beauty-products-5080464

[littlegingermochipie]

anastasia au / アナスタシアバージョン zukaang week 2021 day four | ba sing se season 2 au / 平行宇宙

aang woke up under the control of dai li, while zuko and iroh lived in ba sing se three years after banishment. set as canon divergent version before crossroads of destiny. more of this story below the cut!

excuse my fuzzy brain for incoming plotholes maybe hehe yeah wow i love impulsiveness. anyway yeah sozin comet ain't comin until like, 120 AG-ish

zuko and iroh stopped searching for the avatar and peacefully worked under quon's patronage at ba sing se.

fortunately, due to their successful tea business, they found better access to knowledge of the avatar, as well as various air nomad's relics and textual informations. they decided to keep everything at their secret warehouse, hiring bands of thugs to keep it safe.

unbeknownst to iroh and zuko, four years before they lived as refugees, dai li was the first one to find aang in his iceberg state near eastern air temple.

hundred years ago, aang briefly fought against fire nation army at the temple alongside pathik, gyatso, the nuns, and several young monks. he was saved by pathik from dire situation by getting thrown into the ocean.

long feng planned to raise the boy as their secret weapon so earth kingdom could rise, taking down the fire nation.

upon woken up, aang was hypnotized, and could only remember that he's an orphan named liu jun, born as earthbender.

he was told that the markings on his skin was a curse since birth by angered spirits, and to never let other people see it or they'll be facing the consequences of his misfortune.

he lived like a bird in a cage under long feng's watch and the head of dai li's tutelage. for six years long, he felt horribly stressed.

one day, aang finally found a way to get out of his residence by tricking the caretakers, sneaking and riding on earth kingdom's logistic vehicles.

once he's out of the food supply cart, he found and saved momo from being sold by black market thugs in the lower ring. there, he stumbled upon zuko and iroh's secret warehouse.

zuko was mad for the intrusion, but quickly realized something about the boy's appearance. iroh, however, noticed that this liu jun has upper class upbringing, and concluded that he's one of the rebel child who wanted the taste of outer walls.

zuko just blatantly state the obvious; "kid, you really, really look like the avatar in that painting," but aang was like, "who's avatar?" and ended up being educated about hundred years war history.

aang felt shocked by the tattoos he saw on the painting. still, he quickly dismissed the idea that he might be a living airbender, since their tattoo was supposed to be a sign of mastery, not a curse like long feng said. he didn't tell this to iroh and zuko, yet.

"aish, you must be mad for ever thinking i'm the avatar. he should be an old man by now! i'm afraid of being near fire or under the water for too long, and i dislike being in cramped spaces with damp air. how am i supposed to bend those elements?" (those are also the mental issues resulted by long feng's braingwashing, ofc)

either way, he needed to hide from long feng. aang quickly sealed the deal to iroh's offer who gave him the chance to help their tea shop in the meantime. well, anything but being under dai li's supervision works.

for a week of working together, zuko had noticed a lot of strange things in aang; like how he could easily play kangling (air nomad's bone flute), how his footsteps were so light he almost can never be heard walking, and how he never want to bathe and get dressed with other people nearby.

in the hunt for aang, long feng sent royal guards to every corner of earth kingdom territory. finally, they found aang at the warehouse. chaotic pursuit ensues. iroh and zuko managed to save him—at the price of being labeled as criminals.

with the help of june, iroh and zuko found their way to their old ship and crews. they brought aang there, and asked who he actually was since he's so important for the dai li.

from zuko and iroh's research, the only living people who could confirm the avatar's identity was bumi, who's in omashu, and the temple sages. too much risk for those, ofc, so they opted to go to the empty eastern air temple for more hints.

there, they met pathik, who went, "monkey feathers! aang, is that you?" to which aang replied, "nah, i'm liu jun." and pathik's like, "but i can sense your avatar spirit! and-and your tattoos, let me look at it!" but aang was so, so afraid of showing it.

then, by nudging his inner ki, pathik managed to trigger the avatar state out of aang, causing him to remember everything, including his airbending ability.

zuko and iroh be like, "well, shit, he's really the avatar," and their journey went rather hellish from that, with both zhao's fleet and the dai li on their tail.

after being informed by pathik that he had bonded with an air bison named appa, aang wished he could find him, since appa's the only family that might remain alive with him in this world. zuko promised that they would find appa.

under the pretense of companionship, zuko secretly plotted to give aang to ozai, while he and iroh helped the boy to master four elements by travelling around the world.

feelings were hindering him on the way, though. months of travelling together did that. "i think we could be good friends, even in another lifetime, if not a hundred years ago." oof, aang.

just like dimitri and anastasia, zukaang had deep bonding session at the boat with their dancing dragon and firebending lessons. iroh did smile knowingly at them.

betrayal slapped hard when aang found out about zuko's actual plan during their fight against zhao at north pole, who revealed with, "you befriend this dishonored prince, avatar? all he wanted to do was to send you to the fire lord as a nicely wrapped gift! this was all a ploy to earn your trust, to take you down by knowing your exact blind spots! you are merely a tool for him to regain his former identity!"

ouch. they got separated from there. aang then teamed up with the eventually formed gaang at the other side of the world, while zuko getting scolded by iroh, "you don't only lose someone that you care about, but the hope of the whole world! your hope! hadn't the past three years taught you something? hunger for power only bring despair to you!"

both once separated parties then reunited with the crossroads episode. aang ended up dead, katara swore to finish the fire siblings off, and zuko went absolutely mad, drowned in grief.

it's up to zuko now, to actually fulfill his promises; from finding appa to saving the world from his father—all without knowing that katara could revive aang. angst angst angst, final boss, zukaang banging then everyone lived happily ever after ♥

the musical scores would be:

a rumour in ba sing se

once upon an agrahāyana

caldera holds the key to your heart

learn to wield it

learn to wield it (dancing dragon reprise)

in the dark of the moonless night

feels great to finally manifest this draft of zukaang anastasia au for @zukaangweek uwu

[kass-storycorner]

I’ve been thinking a lot about the Hu Tao and Chongyun storyquests the past days. Both deal with the afterlife (well the border between life and death so far) and ghosts. We know both are canon in Genshin, they exist for this world. Now what I’ve been thinking a lot about is … how much angst can I write with that in mind? I always see a lot of these how the characters would react to your death but… yeah, have fun with this. Or not.

The ghost of you

Prompt: You died and the characters are faced with the literal ghost of you.

Genre: Angst, Hurt, no comfort (especially for Xiao)

Characters: Zhongli, Xiao,

Format: text

Word count: 1714

This is not proof-read or anything, I just wanted to get that idea out of my head. I also really want to write this idea out for other characters, so maybe I'll share a part 2 in the future. and yes the title might be a mcr reference and i might have two other fics in my drafts named after mcr songsi had a rough week okay

Zhongli:

He loved you. With all his heart, with every fibre of his being, he loved you so much. Zhongli always knew that his decision to live a life among mortals would cost a price, but in his mind, it was paid with his Gnosis all those years ago. It was not until the first of his mortal friends started to die that Zhongli was reminded of how fragile humans were. Of course, he was aware to a certain degree that he would outlive his friends and even you, he just never considered how quickly a human life was lived. You both had spent an entire life together, and while Zhonglis body did not biologically age, he is able to change his form to his liking - so when you grew old and grey so did he. Most people in Liyue would see the two of take your stroll around the city, holding hands and they were enamoured by the way you still looked at each other, just like a newlywed couple. But you grew older each day until one day, on one of your walks through the city, your collapsed. Zhongli was quick to catch you and the people around rushed towards the two, helping Zhongli getting you to a doctor. However, what was a doctor to do, than to tell Zhongli that your body is giving up? The doctor nor Zhongli can do anything against the flow of time, though Zhongli wished he could. He was not ready to let you go, he was not ready for you to onyl life in his memories until the erosion of the earth will erease you from them.

You layed in the hospital bed, Zhongli right next to you never letting go of your hand, when you took your last breath. He sat next to you for a while, not saying a word, tears running down his face until he heard your voice.

"It's okay," there you stood on the other side of the bed, your dead body between the two of you. In all the years Zhongli lived he had seen more than a few ghosts and he was aware of the human afterlife - though seeing your ghost wasn't something he anticipated. "You're dead", Zhongli said quietly, tears still spilling from his eyes. "I know, love. I know. And I wish I could've stayed with you just a bit longer, I really do. But it's time. You gave me such a wonderful life; we spend so many years together and I am so thankful for it Zhongli. For all the stories you told me, for all the sleepless nights we spend together, for all the memories we made. I loved it. I love you." Zhongli still hadn't let go of your hand, still afraid of letting you go, even though the mind he loved was standing so close to him. "Love," he started, his voice heavy with grief. "I have so many more stories to tell you. Will you stay, just for a while longer?"

At that you had to laugh a bit and oh, how much he already missed your laugh. He just heard it a few hours ago, when you were still alive, but hearing it now just felt so painful. "Zhongli, even 10 lifetimes wouldn't be enough to be able to listen to all of your stories. But I'm so sorry to disappoint you, you know I can't stay."

He knew this just too well. Not only as someone who worked for decades as a consultant of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor in Liyue, but also as the former Geo-Archon he knew it was better for you to go. It pained him that he could never follow you into the afterlife that was awaiting you, even Zhongli didn't know what awaits you behind the border between life and death. "Then," Zhongli began, standing up and letting go of your cold hand, "let me accompany you."

Xiao:

Continuation for the Xiao one

Xiao refused to go even near the place you died for decades. The day he lost you was still so fresh in his memories, it pained him even more than his karmic debt to think about it. He always told you, when you were still by his side, that when you were in trouble, in danger, to always call his name. You did. You always did and he would be by your side, protecting you from what would’ve harmed you. The only time you refused to call his name in time was the day you died, and all Xiao could do was blame himself. You were visiting at the Inn earlier that day, standing next to him on the balcony talking about something he doesn’t even remember. What he remembers how happy you were, how enthusiastic you talked about it, whatever it was. Somehow though the conversation shifted, and you both ended up fighting – the reason for it was so stupid and it was all his fault. He was just in a bad mood that day and not even your warm presence were able to change it, so he let it out on you. Trying to push you away, again. Xiao cursed himself for how often he did that, how often he would hide how much he loved you, how much he cared for you, behind a mean exterior that only caused you pain. You knew what he was doing and that day, you just had enough. “Stop trying to push me away, Xiao!”, you shouted at him, tears already filling your eyes. You tried to reach for him, but he pulled away. Keeping you at a distance, again. “And you just stop talking, it’s exhausting to hear your voice.” Xiao already hated himself immediately after he said it, but looking back now, knowing what his words caused… it drove him close to madness. “Fine,” you replied, and he could her how much his words hurt you, “then you’ll never hear it again.” With that you left him. He tried to distract himself from the guilt he felt after your fight with his work, slashing through the enemies, spoiling the earth of Liyue with more blood. For nearly a month he didn’t hear you call him, and he was too scared to seek you out. Scared that you wouldn’t want to see him, scared that he ruined it all. When you finally called for him, when he finally heard you say his name – he hoped it was a chance for him to make it up to you. Xiao was not prepared to find your lifeless body, realising that you called his name with your very last breath. It send him into a blind rage, killing the enemies around him that were the cause for your death. When there was nothing left to kill he collapsed next to your corpse, tears spilling from his eyes, chanting your name over and over like a prayer. Asking himself why you hadn’t called him sooner to only remember what he said weeks prior. It was his fault. He couldn’t help it but to blame himself for your death. If he hadn’t said those words, if he hadn’t continuously tried to push you away… you were right. Xiao will never hear your voice again.

He avoided to go even near the place you died. If he hadn’t done that, if he had visited at least once, he would’ve seen your ghost, wandering aimlessly around. At first you were just confused, what had just happened? The last thing you remembered is that you called for Xiao and now? Now you stood in the middle of a forest, no Xiao in sight but also the enemies who cornered you just now were also gone. For how long you wandered around, confused and not sure what had happened you didn’t know. It scared you. You screamed his name, over and over again but you couldn’t hear your own voice. You just couldn’t make a sound.

He didn’t mean to come across that place again. Xiao learned to live with the guilt and grief he felt, just as he had to learn to live with his karmic debt. Still, it hurts more than he likes to admit. So when he stumbled upon the place he lost you all those years ago, he asked himself how he ended up here again. Something was telling him he should come here, but he tried to ignore that voice, that calling. But when he saw your ghostly figure between the trees of the forest, it used to be a plain field when you had died, he froze. Was it really you? “(Y/N)?”, he called out to you. Oh, how long he hadn’t said your name. It felt foreign, but also so familiar at the same time. But you didn’t hear nor see him, you were too lost after years of roaming the fields that grew to a forest – not being able to understand that time passed, that you were dead. Xiao came closer to your ghost and saw how you screamed something, over and over. His name. It was his name. “(Y/N) it’s me, I’m here. Please, I’m here, it’s okay”, his voice was strained and when your face met his – Xiao noticed how you didn’t look at him. You looked right through him, he noticed now how he couldn’t reach you with his words nor his presences. He tried to grab you, but his hand only touched the air. If he could at least hear you call his name. Xiao felt how his tears ran down his face, his heart shattering again in thousand pieces. Why hadn’t he noticed it earlier how you roamed the earth, lost and scared. He saw it in your face. Why didn’t he come here earlier? It pained him to know that you hadn’t found your peace. Xiao went down on his knees, face buried in his hands. The last time he felt so helpless was when he found your dead body, unable to help you. And now? Now it happened again, he had no idea what he could do to help you, to make you see him. From that day on Xiao spend most of his time watching over your ghost, hoping that one day he’ll hear you call out to him again.

[multiplefandomfics]

Love overcomes Universes

Hi everyone. I'm sorry it's been so long. I've been very busy with work and school and had a bit of a writers block. I hope you can forgive me :D. So here is a little something I wrote during the last week. Enjoy and please leave a like or comment.

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Warnings: Self consciousness, PTSD, Winter Soldier (mentioned), trauma (physical, mental), angst, smut, handjob, p in v, 

Words: 4411

“Finally” you exclaimed as you jumped onto your couch with a bag of chips in one hand and your tv remote in the other.

A minute later and your favorite Marvel movie was rolling as you delightfully munched on your chips.

Every line was committed to your memory as you went through a turbulent wheel of emotions.

The characters felt like family. You knew them better than anyone of your blood relatives. Some people might call that odd but not you. Embrace your weird was your biggest life motto.

This morning your friends had asked you to go out with them to a bar to have a few beers with them but you had declined because you had planned your movie evening for days now.

Work had been very straining lately and you just needed an evening away from the reality you called life. 

Your boss had been an asshole ever since two of your coworkers had quit simultaneously and that meant more work for the rest but no one dared to tell him to fuck off and maybe take some of the workload on him for once. 

 But that was a problem for monday. 

No matter how often you watched those films you were still always completely engrossed and immersed into the fabulous world of the Marvel Cinematic Universe.

1 hour into Age of Ultron when suddenly a draft pulled through your living room and a sparkling portal opened up.

At first you thought you had fallen asleep, mixing your world with Avengers Endgame but after blinking twice you weren’t so sure anymore.

You jumped to your feet and grabbed the first thing that fell into your hands as a weapon which happened to be a full plastic water bottle.

Not too bad you thought to yourself and took a fighting stance a good distance away from the glowing door to another reality.

Next thing you saw were two silhouettes emerging and you took another step back. 

The shadows got clearer and clearer until you actually recognized them.

“Dr.Strange? America Chavez?” you looked at them in disbelief.

“Y/N?” he asked and you nodded.

“You have to come with us. We need your help.” he continued.

“And why is that?” you asked suspiciously the water bottle still raised high.

“We would like to explain everything to you when we arrive in our reality. But it is of utmost importance. The well being of everyone depends on it.”

That sounded very dubious but it also sounded relevant enough that they overcame interdimensional borders to find you.

“Alright let me pack my things. How long am I staying over?” you asked, frantically searching for your phone and charger cable on the couch.

“If everything goes to plan you will have to stay forever.” that stopped you dead in your tracks.

“Excuse me? Forever? That is an awfully long time. Can you at least give me a little more information before I decide if I should come with you?” 

“Well you might be the only person to calm Sergeant Barnes when he is acting out.”

“This is about Bucky? Why didn’t you say so immediately? Of course I’m coming that man needs all the support he can get plus he’s really nice to look at so it's a win-win situation for both of us.” That decision had not been hard to make. Your job was mundane as it could be, your last good friend had moved overseas a while ago and the contact was almost completely broken up. Plus you barely had any family left who would miss you if you were gone.

“Give me 20 minutes to grab my things and then we can go.” you called with your head in your closet.

25 minutes later and you had found all the stuff you needed and thrown it in 2 suitcases, 4 backpacks and a handbag.

“Alright I think I got everything. What happens to everything that I don’t take?” you asked curiously.

“Well, everything that stays will be erased the moment we leave. Together with all the memories of you that people who have met you during your lifetime have gathered.”

“So it will practically be as if I never existed?” 

“Correct.”

“Interesting. Okay let’s go.” America opened the portal and you took one last look at your living room before heaving your suitcases through the door. 

Nauseous. Terribly nauseous that’s what you felt once you had your feet back on solid ground.

Taking some deep breaths in through your nose you tried to compose yourself and avoid puking all over the floor. 

“That was worse than I thought it would be.” you choked out.

“But you didn't empty your stomach onto your feet. That’s something.” America encouraged you.

“Well, thanks. That would have been very embarrassing.” you replied.

After that conversation you finally took the time to look around you and noticed you were standing on top of the Avengers compound in upstate New York.

“This is soo cool! And it’s huge!!” you exclaimed, turning around.

“Welcome to the compound Y/N. Come on, we’ll show you to your room where you can unpack.” Stephen Strange suggested.

‘Room’ was an understatement. It was an apartment twice as big as your old one.

It covered a bedroom with a humongous bed and walk-in closet on one wall plus a big bathroom on the other.

Adjoining the living room was an open kitchen with everything you might need if you didn’t want to use the public cooking facility. 

“This is what you call a room? Guys, my childhood bedroom was a room. This is a luxurious flat. I love it and am very grateful.” you beamed with joy.

“So how can I be of assistance? Tell me everything please.” you sat down on the sofa and waited for them to start explaining.

Dr. Strange sat down opposite you while America lounged herself on the couch beside you.

“It all started with Sergeant Barnes moving into his new apartment 6 weeks ago. He was always plagued by nightmares but it was never as bad as it got after he had moved. He started to fall asleep everywhere every time of the day and then he began to sleepwalk. Unfortunately not as himself but as his alter ego The Winter Soldier. As you can imagine this ended in quite a few broken bones, bloody noses and choke marks. So far none has died but it is only a matter of time until someone gets killed.” he explained calmly.

“And why do you think I am the right person to help with that problem?” that was still an unknown quantity you couldn’t pull a connection towards.

“Because you are his soulmate.” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“His soulmate? How did you figure that out?” 

“Because he already had you.”

“Excuse me, what? I have never met him. He doesn’t even exist in my reality. How could I have possibly met him?”

“Not you perse but the you that lived here. He already had a Y/N in the 30’s but of course she is long dead and you were the only living you in all the multiverse. That’s why we think that you are meant to be with him here. You are the only one born closest to where his time traveled self is now.” 

“But won’t he freak out when he sees me? I mean for him I died a long time ago. Are you sure he will accept me and I can live up to the memory of the woman he loved 80 years ago? I am skeptical here.”

“Well, you can’t go back and I am sure that you are destined for each other so he will adapt to the situation.”

“Are you the only two who know about this whole plan?” you asked.

“No actually it was Captain Rogers who came to us for help.” America chimed in.

“Steve Rogers wanted you to bring Bucky a girlfriend?” you quipped.

“We brainstormed together with Bruce Banner and Natasha Romanoff and figured the best solution to our problem would be someone who can calm him. And who better to do so than the woman of his dreams. But it was ultimately Steve’s idea to search for you.” Stephen Strange elaborated.

“Then maybe I should meet the Captain first. I mean he did know the Y/N from the 30’s after all. Maybe if I don’t meet his expectations we don’t have to bother Bucky.” self doubt was killing you. How could you be enough for James Buchanan Barnes?

“That sounds like a plan.” he agreed with you before turning to the invisible AI controlling the whole building.

“Friday could you send Captain Rogers up to us please. It is urgent. And if he is with Sergeant Barnes don’t mention Y/N please.”

“Of course Dr. Strange. He will be up in just a moment.” she replied.

You waited anxiously for the 100 and something year old supersoldier before he stepped through the door after a seemingly endless amount of minutes.

“Strange, you called for me? What’s so important that I had to cut my work out short?” he rambled before his gaze fell on you. 

“Y/N? Wow, this is so weird.” he looked a bit freaked out then he did something completely out of character: he jumped forward and engulfed you in a bear hug.

A little taken aback you wrapped your arms around him out of habit.

“It’s nice to meet you, Captain Rogers.” you forced out because he was not letting you breathe properly. 

“My apologies. You are just so familiar to me that I forgot for a moment that we have never met.” he stammered after he had let you go and had taken a step back, turning beet red in the face.

“It’s alright and it’s an honor to meet you, Captain. I always wished for this to happen. I mean Dr. Strange and America Chavez were already awesome but can I say that I was always on your side. No matter what happened.” you smiled from ear to ear.

“Please call me Steve. And thanks for your support. So tell me about yourself. I am not assuming that you are exactly the same woman I knew in 1934.” When he noticed your shoulders dropping after his comment he hastily added: “but we are not the same men we were back then either so I am sure you are the perfect match for Bucky now.”

That gave you hope. If someone knew Bucky Barnes it was Steve Rogers.

“So, I think I am ready to meet him now although I gotta admit I am really nervous. But I trust you guys that it was the right decision to come here. So where is he right now?” you asked.

“I’m glad that you’re up for this. He should be at the gym right now. Let’s go!” Steve stood up and reached out his hand for you to take.

It took about 5 minutes to get to the gym and if you didn’t have Steve with you, you would have probably gotten lost. Strange and America had decided to stay back to not startle Bucky with too many people.

As you stepped through the glass double doors into the very well equipped gym you looked around astonished at the variety of training devices. Maybe you could start doing something for your health too if you had this much opportunity right in front of your door. 

Then you saw him. Shirtless. Fighting a boxing sack. In that moment he decided to kick it out of the anchoring on the ceiling, sending it flying against the opposite wall with a loud bang.

“Buck, could you stop for a minute and come over. I need you to meet someone.” Steve yelled over.

The metal armed supersoldier turned around and then his gaze fell on you.

His face had been stoic before but the moment he spotted you his eyes lit up and a smile crept onto his lips. 

Unfortunately you could tell the moment he realized that what he first thought to see was the girlfriend of his youth couldn't be true. 

He warily strolled over to where Steve and you stood.

You were glad when Steve started talking first because you would have not gotten a word out even if you tried.

“Am I dreaming again? Is this a cruel joke? Please let me wake up, this can’t be happening again!!” he said exasperated, letting his hand glide through his messy hair.

“Buck, this is Y/N. She is not the girl from our teenage years but it is her. She comes from a different reality. We brought her here to help you. We thought that you might cope well with a familiar face.” Steve explained.

“Hi.” you choked out when he mustered you with skeptical eyes.

“Hi, well this is awkward.” he mumbled after a few minutes of weird silence.

“Maybe a little. Ehm, do you want to show me around the compound maybe? Alone?” you suggested, finally finding your voice. Out of the corner of your eyes you had observed some people watching you interested and you definitely didn’t want a crowd when you first got to know the man you had adored from afar for so long.

“That sounds like a good idea. I will go grab my clothes and then I’ll show you the grounds and maybe we can grab something to eat. You must be hungry.” he seemed relieved that the situation stopped being tense. 

“So, what is it like in your world?” he asked, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets.

“Well, it was very much the same way it is here with the major difference that all of this,” you gestured around “and all of you don’t exist in real life. You are fictional characters out of comic books which were turned into movies over the last couple years. I brought the DVD’s if you would like to see them for yourself.” you proposed to him.

“That sounds… I don’t know if I have a word for that but I am kind of curious. Though it also makes me a little scared because that means that you know everything about me but I know so little about you.” he fixated the muddy ground as if it would swallow him whole if he did it long enough.

“Hey,” you stopped in front of him, pushing his face upwards with your fingers to look him in the eyes. “We have the rest of forever to get to know each other inside and out, alright? Yes, I might know the things I learned from the movies about you, but there is still so much of your story that wasn’t told and I wanna know every stupid little detail.” you grinned at him.

“You have so much to give and you have always been my favorite character in the films. Maybe I know why now.  Soulmates and all.” you winked at him. Then you just hugged him because you felt like he needed it.

“Thank you. I already feel so much better. So long I have always sensed that a piece of me was missing and I always thought that it might be the memories I couldn’t recover but that piece might actually be you. 

I wanna be honest, at first when Steve introduced you to me I thought he was crazy for even trying but now, now I think you are the best thing that could have happened to me.” your heart was melting at his words. So much so that tears sprang to your eyes.

Before you could reply to his heartfelt speech it started to pour in buckets. He tried to shelter you with his jacket and you ran inside still getting soaking wet.

But instead of being annoyed or angry, you laughed your asses off barely able to breathe.

Weeks ticked by and although it was an adjustment at first you two got closer everyday, noticing similarities in your characters and behavior. So much so that even the others started to see it and mention it.

Bucky and you worked together like clockwork and even Steve told you that he was finally able to see his best friend and big brother Bucky from the 40’s again.

At first he didn’t want you two to sleep in the same bed or even the same room for that matter. He always said that it was because of the values he grew up with but you knew the real reason behind his hesitance was that he didn’t want to unsettle you with his nightmares.

The positive side to it was his daydreams had stopped which was enough for the other avengers but not for you.

“Bucky? We’ve been together for 6 months now. Can we please move together into one room?” you begged him one evening after a star wars marathon.

“You know how I feel about that Y/N.” he groaned exasperated. 

“Oh, for fucks sake! Let me help you, you stubborn mule!” tears were already threatening to spill out of your eyes in rage. Before he could open his mouth to reply you continued “I know that you are still waking up screaming at night, scared of the terrors you have witnessed and angry at yourself for letting them do this to you. I can help you regain your self confidence if you let me!!” 

His mouth opened and closed like that of a fish before he let his head hang low sighing in defeat.

“My greatest fear is that not I wake up but him and that I will hurt you terribly or worse, kill you before I snap out of it and realize what I have done. I can’t risk that.” Now it was his time to cry.

“I understand you but your sleepwalking during the day has stopped since I arrived so why not believe that that will be the case with the nightmares too? Just have a little faith, my love.” you stroked his cheek softly, wiping away his tears.

He stayed silent for a long while, assessing his possible answers. 

“Can I have one more night to think about it?” How could you say no to him?

“Alright but I want an answer tomorrow.” you agreed.

He kissed the top of your head in thanks and asked “So which movie to watch next?” 

“Well, have I mentioned that I brought my Marvel DVD’s from my universe? We could watch your history unfolding if you are up for that. I always wanted an audio comment on the films.” you smiled at him.

“You have them here? Okay, I guess. Maybe we’ll find differences. I mean apparently this is not exactly the universe from your movies.” 

“That’s true. Sounds interesting. You think the others would like to see them too?” 

“I’m sure they would. I think that screams for movie night.” he seemed more relaxed after you switched topics. 

After calling everyone together to the theater room you put the first disk into the player and started Captain America the first avenger. The only sad thing was that you couldn’t watch the Disney+ series with them. 

Everyone was hyped when the credits rolled and Tony immediately wanted to start the next one because he knew it was his first movie.

“One thing you have to know about MCU films is that there is always at least one post credit scene. So sit down, shut up and enjoy the rest!” you hissed at the billionaire. 

Even you were surprised when he actually followed your order.

You spent countless hours over the next 3 days watching all the Marvel movies you were able to bring. It made you kinda sad that you would never be able to see the coming movies from your world. But on the other hand you were currently living your own MCU movie which was so much better.

It was around Guardians of the Galaxy Volume 2 that you realized that you had forgotten about the one day ultimatum you had set for Bucky. So you confronted him the next day.

“Don’t think that you are getting away with this and that I have forgotten about our little dispute.” you whispered into his ear from behind while he was sitting in his armchair, reading a book. 

“Damn. I really hoped you did.” he admitted.

“So? What is your decision? Are we trying the whole “sleeping in one bed thing” or not?” 

 “Well, you won’t give up anytime soon so okay we can try but only with precautions. You have water in reach to splash me in the face with and I want to be tied to the bed so you can run.” he set his conditions.

“Uhh kinky.” you winked at him and he scolded you with his gaze.

“I’m sorry it just slipped out. I will accept your conditions but you will see that they won’t be necessary.” 

You noticed him being anxious the rest of the evening. He was always overthinking things but this time you could actually see the gears turning inside his head.

“Come on Bucky, I am beat. Let’s go to sleep. Do you want to sleep in your bed or mine?” 

“Mine is probably best. I have the most sturdy bed frame.” he still didn’t look convinced that this was the best idea but there was no way back now.

You prepared yourselves, changed into pajamas and snuggled into the sheets before Bucky joined you. 

“Good night. Everything is gonna be fine.” you kissed him reassuringly.

An hour ticked by and he was still awake. You feared he would keep himself from falling asleep and you couldn’t have that. If he was tired the possibility of him falling back onto his alter ego was higher than when he was well rested.

“Darling, you have to sleep.” you mumbled into his chest. 

“I can’t. I am always imagining the consequences this could have.” 

Then something came to your mind. What if he just needed a distraction? So you went full on confrontation mode.

“Baby, let me help you relax.” your voice lowered seductively. At first he looked somewhat confused but as your hand descended towards his crotch and you started massaging his rapidly hardening length.

“What are you doing, doll?” he groaned. 

You just smiled and pushed your hand into his boxers, stroking his cock to full hardness. Your thumb flicking over his slit, collecting precum as lubrication.

“Fuck, feels good. Don’t stop.” he moaned and you complied. 

“Come on baby, let go. Come all over my hand.” you whispered into his ear, kissing his jaw.

His moans were the best sounds you ever heard and he was so close. 

Just a few more strokes and he shot his load all over your hand.

“Thank you darling. I think I needed that.” he kissed you. “Let me return the favor,” he offered.

“No, you sleep now. Everything else can be sorted out tomorrow.”

It took some convincing but he gave his okay after you promised he could make it up to you the next day.

Normally you would have thought you’d be woken up by the sun streaming through the window, not by a hot tongue between your folds.

“Oh my god, Bucky.” you moaned after the fog cleared out of your head sufficiently enough so you could register what was happening. Gripping his hair and pulling made him moan which sent vibrations up to your clit.

“Good morning, doll.” he mumbled.

“A good morning indeed.” his tongue was magic, alternating between licking and sucking between your folds and your clit. But the moment he entered a metal finger into your tight channel, curling it just right, was the moment you thought you’d gone to heaven. He always knew how to get you to go feral.

“More, James, more.” you groaned.

“Say that again.” he growled, his eyes darkening even more than they already had. 

“James.” you moaned again and before you could fathom what happened did he pull his sinful fingers and tongue away and pounced on you. He guided his cock into your entrance and pushed home in one stroke.

“Shit! James, you're so big.” you moaned. “So tight, doll. Love your pussy. She’s all mine, isn’t she?” he pulled out slowly and pushed back in to the hilt. Effectively silencing your response. 

“Say it!” he demanded.

“Oh, god. Yours, James, all yours.” he seemed happy with that response, sucking hickeys into your neck.

“Where do you feel me baby? show me!” he asked. So you grabbed his right hand and pushed it onto the obvious bulge in your belly where his dick was rearranging your guts.

“James, you’re gonna split me in half. Fuck! Faster!” 

He sped up his thrusts, hitting your g-spot over and over. The coil in your stomach tightening to the point of snapping. You couldn’t even warn him before you came, shaking uncontrollably.

His hips snapped into yours erratically so you knew he was close too. “Let go James. Fill me up. Breed me baby. I know you want to claim me. Do it.” you whispered seductively. 

That was his own undoing and he spilt deeply inside you. 

“Holy hell.” he breathed out after rolling off of you. “That was…” 

“The best sex I ever had? Definitely!” you finished his sentence.

“But I think I will need a bath to lose my sore muscles.” you smiled utterly satisfied.

“Sorry love. Maybe I was a little rough.” he looked guilty and you immediately regretted saying that. 

“That’s not what I meant. I feel really good. Just a little achy you know? But the good kind of achy. Like after a nice workout.” 

“Oh, I understand. I’ll go draw us a nice hot bath. I’ll be right back.” he kissed your forehead and left towards the bathroom.

All of this was an absolute dream come true. In the course of only a few months your life had turned 180°.The decision to go with Dr. Strange and America Chavez had been the best you ever made.

Bucky was the love of your life and you would spend every breathing minute making sure that that man got all the love he deserved.

[watermelonlovershigh]

You Get Sick in the Back of an Uber

AN: so this was a story i have had in my drafts for like three months and just never found motivation to finish it. i decided to finish this first out of my drafts because it was one of the ones that had the most already written for it. unlike some of my others that don't have much written yet. and this was supposed to be longer but i got lazy and ended the end with no dialogue and shorted the story. but i guess that's fine because the main part of this was the uber incident and not necessary the aftercare. (i just love to always include aftercare whether its with sex or getting sick. unless its a blurb) @harryhoney-bee suggested number 1. on my voting post so thank you for requesting i finish this one shot idea that was in my drafts.

This story contains: puke, drunken person, caring husband

{ husband!harry - dad!harry - Grammys 2021 Harry - 4 kids (any age you imagine) }

word count: 1765

When you drink too much at the Grammys, you end up having to get sick in the uber ride home and Harry cares for you.

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Back Story-

After the Grammys, Harry and I decided to go to the little after party that was being held for the Grammy attendees. We knew we couldn't stay too long because we had to get back home to our kids. They were currently with our babysitter but she couldn't stay all night. She has to go home at some point. So we made sure to watch the time.

At the afterparty, drinks were flowing. I haven't drank in a while due to the fact I had been pregnant not too long ago. This was the first night I was allowed to drink and I decided to do just that. Harry was aware of me drinking and promised to watch and take care of me. Though we were at this afterparty for him, he wanted me to let loose and have some fun as well.

But what he wasn't expecting was for me to drink the amount I did. I didn't mean to go over board. It just kind of happened. People handing out drinks left and right and next thing I knew, I was drunk. Not tipsy, drunk. When Harry noticed how drunk I was, he decided it's best to go home.

And because Harry also had drank some alcohol, he wasn't in a state to drive either. By no means was he as drunk as me though. Maybe just tipsy but he didn't want to risk it. So he decided to call an uber for us.

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

Current-

We're sitting in the back of the uber on our way home. It's about an hour drive since the city is crowded with traffic due to the Grammys. Right about now is when I regret drinking any alcohol tonight. Because I haven't drank in over a year, my body isn't use to the poison running through my veins. So you could say I'm a lightweight now. My head is throbbing. My vision is blurry. My stomach is turning. Lets just say I regret all my decisions tonight that lead to me feeling this way.

"Harrrrry I don't feel good." I manage to slur out.

"You probably should have stuck to champagne instead of vodka my love." Harry responds, while stroking my hair out of my face in a gentle manner.

Another 10 minutes pass and I'm feeling very nauseous. I'm trying to focus on my breathing but it's not working.

"Harry my stomach hurts." I whisper with hooded eyes.

"Like you're gonna be sick?" Harry questions with panic.

I nod my head and hear Harry asking the driver if he can pull over.

"Can you pull over? My wife is feeling ill." Harry frantically questions the uber driver up front.

"I'm sorry sir but this freeway is packed and there is no way I can get to the side of the road right now." the driver says with a bit of an attitude.

Hearing that made me and Harry both start to panic.

"Well do you have any sick bags in here?" my husband asks.

"Sorry I don't." the driver retorts in a uncaring tone. What kind of uber driver doesn't carry sick bags for when drunks potentially need a ride but feel like they are going to be sick?

I just barley hear Harry let out a frustrated sigh and turn to me.

"Try and relax love. Take deep breaths for me, alright." Harry whispers while rubbing my back as I'm slumped over his body, too disoriented to even hold my head up.

About 3 minutes later, I feel vomit rise up my throat. There isn't much I can to do. The driver already said he couldn't pull over, nor does he have sick bags. I sit up from my slouched position and clasp a hand over my mouth. My legs are bouncing up and down. I'm trying desperately not to puke but I'm doing a poor job. Harry is sitting up with me, trying to comfort me but his words are all a blur at this point.

"If you have to be sick darling, let it out. I'll pay to get this uber cleaned, okay." Harry states in my ear. I know he'd rather not have me puke on the floor of the uber, right beside him, but he can tell I'm struggling and in discomfort.

Hearing those words was all the conformation I needed. I remove my hand from my mouth and let out a gush of alcoholic bile spew from my mouth and onto the backseat floor board. Harry gathers my hair in his hands so it's not in my face. My vomit splatters all over my legs and on the bottom of Harry's Gucci suit. I'd feel terrible about that if I wasn't so out of it, but my mind is a mushed up blur.

"Shhh, that's it. You're alright." Harry reassures me. The uber driver lets out a sigh of disgust, but this is truly his fault that I'm throwing up in his uber right now anyways.

Heave after heave, I let out more of the alcohol that was poisoning my system, right onto the floor. It's not a pretty sight. I'm having a cold sweat and my body is trembling. Though Harry has a weak stomach, when it comes to his wife (me) or his kids, he can always handle a bit of throw up. Or a lot like currently. It's like a fatherly/husband instinct that comes over him and he feels only adrenaline, not yuck.

Finally I feel my stomach relax and I sit up, breathing heavy with vomit dripping down my chin. Without thinking, I wipe it off with the back of my hand and smear it on my already ruined dress. "Feeling better?" Harry asks in a low tone.

"Mhmm." I hum, not really feeling like talking. My drunken brain has cleared up some from the majority of the alcohol being out of my system, but I still feel the after affects drinking brings. I just lean my head on Harry's shoulder for the rest of the ride home and allow the cool breeze to blow on my face. The uber driver did us all a favor by rolling the windows down so we didn't suffocate on the nasty smell of my sick.

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

After-

When we arrived home, Harry payed the uber driver, not giving much of a tip and told him that he'd have someone clean his car out in the morning. As well as a half assed apology for my incident beings it could have been prevented. Then carefully, Harry lifted me out the uber and carried me into our Los Angeles home. Good thing our kids were all asleep because they shouldn't have to see their mother like this. Covered in puke and half drunk.

Harry took me to our bathroom and quickly ran down stairs to pay our babysitter, hoping she didn't question my appearance when she saw my state as we came through the front door. She didn't thankfully and left soon after her check was handed to her. Harry came back up to where he left me and helped me clean up and get ready for bed.

He stripped us of our vomit covered clothes and helped me into the big walk-in shower we have in our master bathroom. Then after he delicately washed our bodies along with my hair, he helped us out and dried us off. We brushed our teeth, me with the help of my husband because I was still a bit dizzy. After we're clean of sick and smelt fresh, he helped me put some panties and a t-shirt over my nude body and boxers on himself; just incase our kids woke up and needed us for whatever reason.

Harry helped me into our large bed and tucked me in, bending down to kiss my forehead. Then he walked down to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water and a bucket incase I needed to be sick again at some point through-out the rest of the early morning. When he had all the items he intended to grab, Harry came back to our bedroom where I was already passed out with sleep.

So he just set the water on my night stand and the bucket on the floor, beside my side of the bed. Then Harry quietly exited our room and went to each of our child's bedrooms to make sure they were fine and still asleep like they should be, which they thankfully were.

When everything was done and taken care of, Harry turned the bedroom lights out and slipped in the covers with me. He helped my body scoot over and I cuddled into his warm body. I didn't realize it in my state of sleep but I knew when I awoke, I'll be thinking about how grateful I am to have a wonderful husband like Harry.

He takes such good care of me. He didn't get upset that I drank too much on his special night and accidently got wasted. He never once got upset that I basically got throw up on his expensive suit tonight in the uber. He didn't get annoyed that he had to shower both me and him past midnight, though he was exhausted. Harry loves taking care of me (and our kids) and wouldn't wish for any other life. Even when his life becomes chaotic and stressful. Harry loves his family dearly and his family love him just as much or more.

Masterlist (regular smut, fluff & sicfics)

My Favorite Harry Styles Fics MASTERLIST

Harry Styles Series - One Shots & Blurbs Masterlist

Harry Styles blurbs, concepts, & short stories Masterlist- (short writing with little to no dialog)

[pillage-and-lute]

Prompt: fake realtionahip/marriage, whoever you like!

Ooohoho! This has been chilling as a draft for ages, now I have completed it. *mildly evil laughter*

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The funny thing about Geralt, Jaskier thought as he did up the buttons on his best doublet, was that he really didn’t lie. He said things that weren’t true, but they were usually things he believed, or thought he believed because he was tired or grumpy. Sometimes he told half truths. He didn’t lie though.

It wasn’t even as if he didn’t have a poker face, Geralt’s face was all poker face, he just hated lying. Normally it wasn’t an issue, but tonight, Jaskier reflected, it wouldn’t be ideal.

Jaskier had heard through some whispered words at a pub that a bunch of Nilfgaardian nobles were having a gala, and the temptation of finding out what political secrets they could was two strong for their odd little family. So Geralt and Jaskier were going undercover.

There had been quite a bit of debate about that. Jaskier was obviously going. He’d grown his hair longer and had a bit of scruff going, and to be frank, all a bard really needed to disguise themselves was a new name, people saw the clothing and heard the music, but rarely remembered the face. Yennefer would have been the ideal partner in crime except for a crucial thing.

When Yennefer had been changed by magic, her eyes had been left the same. Somehow, the transformation had solidified them, and no spell would change them. Her eyes were too distinctive, and so she would stay behind with Ciri. That left Geralt, and since the ball was only for the nobility, he would be the fiance of Julian Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove.

Damn.

See, Geralt didn’t lie, and that was bad enough. Jaskier wouldn’t be able to rely on Yennefer’s in-depth knowledge of the nobility and that was worse. Worst of all though, was the fact that Jaskier would have to spend a night full of wine and dancing pretending to be in love with, and engaged to, Geralt. Who he loved.

And who had, not three months ago, blamed Jaskier for every bad thing in life.

Since then Geralt had caught up with him half-way down the mountain and there had been some grumbled words about how Jaskier ‘wasn’t actually, exactly, a total curse’. Not a glowing review, but then Cintra had fallen, and they had Cirilla and they’d found a wounded Yennefer and it had all gotten so very busy.

Jaskier cast a last look in the mirror as the door to his room creaked open. He turned, expecting Geralt, but it was Yennefer.

“I suppose,” she said, eyeing him. “That this is as good as you get.” It could have been said cruelly. A year ago it would have been. Now, though, the words were fond. 

“I like the kohl, it goes well with the wrinkles at your eyes,” she winked. He smiled. There were no more wrinkles now than had been twenty years ago, and they both knew it.

“I wasn’t sure about the eyeliner,” Jaskier said, trying to sound haughty. “Overdramatic eye looks are your thing.”

Yennefer chuckled and sat on the end of the bed. “A tiny smudge of eyeliner is hardly overdramatic.” She studied him approvingly, then looked at him. Her expression was frighteningly soft.

“Have you told him that you love him?”

“Never,” Jaskier said, fiving his cravat in the mirror.

“Why ever not?”

“It would only be the mountain all over again,” Jaskier sighed. “I tried, you know. I spent years trying, and then on the mountain, I thought I was being clear...”

“What did you say?”

“I asked him to leave it all, just for a little while, with me. I thought we could go to the coast.”

“The coast,” Yennefer said from her spot on the bed. “As in Lettenhove? You wanted to show him where you grew up?”

“Partially. I could explain the immortality business easier if he met my sister, but mostly I just thought it would be peaceful.”

Yennefer snorted. “With Geralt? Peaceful? He’d spend the whole time fighting drowners and telling you not to write about mermaids because they’re vicious.”

Jaskier smiled wanly. “That’s pretty peaceful for him.”

“But he said no?”

“He didn’t say anything,” Jaskier said. “Then he, well, you know, he spent the night in your tent.”

“Ah,” Yennefer said. “For what it’s worth, I hate that it happened too.”

“He doesn’t though!” Jaskier cried, whirling around to face her. “He wants it to happen again! And you! You don’t want him but he wants you while I want him!” The frustration of the whole situation and nerves for what was to come were overwhelming. “And you’re here, trying to help me,” he said more quietly. “Why?”

“Because I like you,” Yennefer said, simply, standing from the bed. “And I like him. I also never, ever want to kiss him again. The djinn is sitting, somewhere in my chest, telling me I love him, but the feeling is...sick. It feels like love, as well as I can remember, but it’s poisoned and twisted and I want no part in it.”

Her purple eyes pinned Jaskier to the floor.

“And that poison pales in comparison to how much you love him. He deserves that.”

She swept out the door, tossing a “Sort it out,” over her shoulder.

Well.

The next knock at the door was Geralt, Ciri in tow. Jaskier hoped the witcher hadn’t heard any part of his and Yennefer’s conversation, but he suspected that no one overheard conversations that Yen didn’t want them too. 

“Dandelion!” Ciri said, leaping at him and using the name she’d first met him under. “You look nice! Like a prince in one of your stories!”

Jaskier blushed and thanked her quietly as he scooped her up and tossed her, laughing, onto the bed. 

He looked at Geralt for his opinion.

Oh he looked so good too. Yennefer had charmed him so that anyone else would see a different man in Geralt’s place, but to Jaskier he looked just the same. But he was wearing white. 

A white chemise, the collar and cuffs with fine red embroidery, with a cream colored cape, half length so it fell just to Geralt’s hips. It was embroidered too, green and pink and so many other colors, despite being overall still mostly cream. The pants were the same creamy fabric with a stripe down each side. Dark boots and a wide, decorative, dark belt completed the look.

“Wow,” Jaskier said.

“Rivian traditional clothing,” Geralt muttered. 

“I thought you’d hardly actually been to Rivia,” Jaskier said,.It was a better choice than the other thoughts in his head, which were half-formed screams about how absolutely skin tight those pants were.

“I haven’t been, but my...character is.”

“Right,” Jaskier said, dragging his eyes above Geralt’s shoulders. “My fiance, Ludomir of Rivia.”

Geralt said nothing.

Jaskier kicked himself for mentioning the fiance thing.

“We should go,” he said.

And they went.

The lord’s castle was small, as castles go, and the guards at the gate didn’t even bother to check their invitations. With all the other lords and ladies streaming past, no one would guess that the pair were out of place. Jaskier and Geralt enterred the ballroom and Jaskier felt his stomach drop straight through to his shoes.

The walls were positively lined with Nilfgaardian soldiers. Geralt’s shoulders stiffened too, but they steered themselves to a feast table as if nothing was wrong.

It took them almost a full circle of the tables to find the two little cards for ‘Viscount de Lettenhove’ and ‘Guest’. Getting onto the guest list had been laughably easy, and Jaskier just sent up a silent prayer of thanks that the stupid title was finally useful for something.

They sat in their places and guests populated the seats around them. There was a lady next to Jaskier who already smelled of the strongly alcoholic sherry that was being served. Her hair, probably a wig towered, and was strung all over with so many pearls and little tiny golden ornaments that when she stepped outside she must surely be attacked by magpies.

“My lady,” Jaskier said, as chivalrous as he could around a mouthful of her rose perfume. “I’m afraid we haven’t had a chance to be introduced.”

“Oooh,” she giggled, “You’re sweet, I’m Dame Au’Vigne, and I can see by your card that you are the Viscount de Lettenhove, I knew your father.”

Yes, Jaskier thought. I remember, he turned down your proposal. Jaskier had been a lad then, barely eight years old, but he remembered through a child’s eyes a mountain of lace and perfume who had offered to marry his father while actually at his mother’s funeral.

“It’s a pleasure,” he said. Heinous bitch, he thought. He remembered rumors too, which are always a bard’s stock and trade, that Dame Au’Vigne’s husbands were always wealthy, usually handsome, and all of them had shockingly short lifespans. 

Rumor also had it that she was backing Nilfgaard financially and had been playing the shipping stock with insider knowledge of their movements. A very good person to be seated next to tonight. 

“May I introduce my fiance, Ludomir of Rivia,” Jaskier said, gesturing to Geralt. Geralt nodded and hummed, somewhat politely.

“How handsome,” Dame Au’Vigne stage whispered. “Where ever did you find him?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Jaskier said.

The lord of the castle stood up and gave a droning speech. It was full of euphemisms about ‘upholding standards’ and ‘fostering strong relations’ that boiled down to ‘I’m an untrustworthy bastard who believes that allowing the deaths of my people en masse is fine so long as I make money.’ It was depressing, too, as Jaskier looked around the ballroom to see so many people nodding in agreement. 

Traitors and bastards, the lot of them.

Geralt’s face hadn’t changed even an inch.

“So,” Dame Au’Vigne said as the appetizer course was served. “You two aren’t exactly in a honeymoon phase, are you?”

And she was right, for a couple, newly engaged, Jaskier and Geralt hadn’t acted the part yet at all.

“I’m afraid,” Jaskier said, inventing wildly. “That we’re both just a touch nervous, the engagement is so new, you see, and this is our first event,” he took Geralt’s hand, above the table, so Dame Au’Vigne could see. “As a couple.”

“Oh how sweet,” she said airily. “You know, they’ll have dancing between the courses, it’ll be a great way for you to wet your social feet. Sir Erdin and the lady in the lavender dress,” she pointed across the ballroom. “They’re newly engaged as well.” She lowered her voice.

“Sir Erdin is very supportive of the cause, word has it he’s in with the very inner circle,” Dame Au’Vigne giggled, as if being in the inner circle of a murderous group of intruders was as delightful as a recent engagement.

“How interesting!” Jaskier said, affecting a jealous and impressed tone. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Geralt’s eyebrow twitch, the way it did when he was listening hard.

“Oh yes,” Dame Au’Vigne said. “And Lord Snapcase, in the corner, he...” and she went on, was the marvelous thing, she couldn’t seem to help herself but gossip about everyone. And she had all these details about how they were helping ‘the cause’. Destiny must have finally decided to throw Jaskier and Geralt a bone.

Then the appetizer course was finished and Jaskier felt much less lucky. Dame Au’Vigne was ushering him and Geralt out of their seats to dance. It wasn’t one of the quick, hopping around, switching partners dances either. No, the band seemed insistent on only slow, romantic music. 

Awkwardly, Geralt slid one large hand around Jaskier’s waist and they turned in slow circles on the dance floor. The witcher’s face looked like a thunderclap.

“Try and look like you’re having fun, darling,” Jaskier said. Please don’t look at me as though holding me is torture, his inner self begged.

“Hmmm,” Geralt said. Jaskier leaned in.

“Really dear heart,” he leaned in even closer, lips almost touching Geralt’s ear. “People are going to suspect something,” he said in the barest of whispers.

“Let them,” Geralt hissed back in the same fashion. “We’ve got the information, we can leave.” 

Jaskier, keeping up appearances, tossed his head back and let out a delighted shriek of laughter, as if Geralt had just told him a joke or, perhaps, made a wonderfully indecent proposal.

“Later, perhaps,” he said, stage-whispering for the sake of those around them. Leaning in again he whispered for real, “We can’t leave until the party’s over, no one else will, they’d send some of those soldiers after us for sure.”

The music changed, and Geralt and Jaskier’s slow circles changed speed with it. 

Geralt hissed in his ear again, “I don’t see why I had to be your,” this close Jaskier could see Geralt’s jaw working with distaste. “Lover.”

“Fiance,” Jaskier said, trying not to let his heart sink. It couldn’t possibly go any lower. “There’s a difference.”

They said no more to each other, and after the second dance, declined the third to sit back at their seats and await the arrival of the soup course.

The man sat beside Geralt was some old military man, mostly mustache and the rest of him was a rather musty and very old fashioned uniform. It had gold braid and a colonel’s insignia. The hat that sat next to his chair had a plume. 

He leaned over to Geralt and said, rather loudly, in a voice that implied tone deafness, to both volume and social situations, “Just marrying him for the money, eh?”

People to both sides of Jaskier and Geralt looked around. Dame Au’Vigne looked at them askance.

“Hmmm,” Geralt said. It was a negative answer to the colonel’s question, but the man didn’t take it as such.

“Often is the way,” the man nearly bellowed. “My missus hated me right up to the day she died.”

Jaskier curled in on himself. The role of Viscount wasn’t a big one, mostly administrative and, these days, completed by his sister Rowena, who was better at sitting behind a desk. Still, argued a battered part of his long ago but still proper upbringing. The name of Pankratz was being dragged through the mud. Lots of these people would know the name too, these sour, vindictive, unpleasant, murderous people. And they’d know the gossip, would have taken part in the gossip about ‘Young Julian running off to be a bard,’ (this generally said with the same tone as is usually leant to slave trader) and how ‘he’ll never find a good marriage now,’ how he was ‘a disgrace to the name.’ 

And here was their long awaited confirmation. Jaskier-Julian, couldn’t find a good marriage, was being wed only for his money. Of course, more than half the pairings here were only in it for the money, but to have it said, so loudly too, and before the wedding had even happened, it was social condemnation.

Jaskier looked down at the table cloth, his face hot. He’d faced social condemnation before, of course, he’d survive. What hurt was that Geralt wasn’t really protesting, Geralt couldn’t even pretend to like Jaskier, not for a single evening. Twenty years he’d done a good enough job of acting to convince even Jaskier, mostly, apart from the punches and the insults and...maybe Jaskier had been a little blind to the truth but still. 

It was ruining their cover though, so he protested quietly. “Not just for the money,” he said, patting Geralt’s hand where one fist wrapped around his goblet. “My fiance is just shy, that’s all.”

The damage was already done, but the old colonel hiccupped. “Well lad,” he said, giving Geralt a slap on the back. “This ale’s pretty good so drink up. Got me through three years of happy marriage, strong ale did.” The man took a slug of his own drink. “And fourty seven more unhappy years.” He guffawed hugely and unpleasantly, little drops of ale flinging from his mustache. 

Wherever the soul of the unpleasant man’s dead wife was, Jaskier felt sure she was happy to be away from this miserable old drunk.

Geralt, however, was looking at Jaskier. Their eyes met. Jaskier knew he probably looked as hunted as he felt, and his cheeks were probably still burning from the embarassment. Still, it seemed as though Geralt was about to say something. His golden eyes were full of emotion, but Jaskier couldn’t parse out what kind. 

Whatever kind it was, it caused Geralt to take the colonel’s advice and drink like there was no tomorrow. 

Great. Jaskier had driven his companion to drinking. 

He felt a little like doing so himself. 

The soup course was good, hot and savory, but underspiced. Geralt slurped it up gratefully. Jaskier knew that rich food was usually too much for his senses if it was spiced to Jaskier’s taste.

More dancing. Jaskier didn’t stand, at first, assuming that Geralt would rather sit and drink more. There were some snickers as people judged him. Geralt stood though, and he offered a hand and led Jaskier to the dance floor.

“You need to act drunk,” Jaskier whispered in his ear. “If you were a normal man you would be.”

“I am acting,” Geralt rumbled.

“You’re very steady for a drunk,” Jaskier sniffed.

“You said I was shy, now I’m less shy,” Geralt whispered. “And I’ve been drinking. So...drunk.” It was torture, being held like this, having that voice in Jaskier’s ear. That hand, so warm cupping his own. He wanted to cry.

A couple whirled past them. It was the Dame Au’Vigne, gossiping to some new dance partner. A snippet of her words caught them.

“-de Lettenhove. Entirely loveless of course. Unlovable, his father said once, of course as a bard-” then the tide of conversation and other dancers stole the rest of the words.

Jaskier sagged. His father hadn’t been a nice man, and unlovable wasn’t the worst of what he’d been called in his life, but now, with Geralt so close and so disgusted by the prospect...well, it hit a little close to home. 

“Laugh,” Geralt whispered in his ear.

“What?” Jaskier hissed.

“Like before, laugh like before, but...more so. Pretend I said a dirty joke.”

Jaskier did, heads turned as he pretended to laugh, half scandalized and half delighted at something Geralt said.

Geralt even chuckled along with him. Then his hand crept down Jaskier’s back to his hip. It wasn’t dirty. It was just so,so spine tinglingly close to dirty.

It was almost worse. If Geralt had gripped his ass that would have been bad, but this, Jaskier was left to speculate. He had a very active imagination. The couples next to them were giggling and tittering, scandalized, but not too much, at the pair.

They danced all three dances. During the second dance Geralt spun Jaskier out and then back in flashily, dipping him over one arm like a dainty maiden. Jaskier, who was no dainty maiden, knew the strength that elaborate dip must have taken and his head spun. The third dance was slow, and once again they simply held one another and turned in slow circles. Except Geralt pressed their cheeks together in a way that was so intimate that Jaskier finally gave in. Just tonight he had Geralt, all of him, his attention, his warmth. 

There was only so much a bard could take, and Jaskier gave in to the fantasy.

“I wonder how Yennefer is,” Geralt whispered. “And Ciri.”

It was like having cold water poured all over him. Jaskier’s fantasy shattered as soon as it had formed. Of course Geralt wasn’t enjoying this, of course his mind was elsewhere. He had a beautiful sorceress to think of, even if they weren’t sleeping together. Geralt and Yennefer and Ciri made the perfect, happy family. Where did Jaskier fit in to that?

He pulled back a little, already missing the warmth of Geralt’s cheek against his own. They finished the dance stiffly.

Back at the table, squished between Dame Au’Vigne and the colonel, the main course was awful. Jaskier couldn’t judge it on the food, which he barely tasted. Dame Au’Vigne and the colonel, however, had apparently come to the conclusion that Geralt or, Ludomir, rather, was marrying Jaskier for the money and the sex. They tittered, loudly and drunkely, to those around, and Geralt leaned in.

“Surely we can leave after this course,” he whispered.

Desperate to be rid of the charade, Jaskier thought. To not have to be engaged to me. “Can’t,” he whispered. “Have to stay for dessert and more dancing, else it looks suspect.”

“Hmmm.” It was a displeased hum.

“And, there will be small talk, with dessert. You need to say something, people will think you’re mute.”

“You two twitter into one another’s ears all the time,” Dame Au’Vigne said loudly. She was fully drunk off the sherry and very loud. “But not one kiss,” she lowered her voice, as if trying to be discreet. It didn’t work. “Is it truly as loveless as they say? I know you aren’t waiting until marriage.”

As who say? Jaskier thought. The only person quite that invested seems to be you.

“Not loveless,” Jaskier said. It seemed weak even to his ears.

“Surely you’ll join the dancing again, then,” Dame Au’Vigne said. 

“No,” Jaskier said, fiddling with his napkin. “I’m feeling quite too full to dance, ate too fast, I’m afraid.” He hoped she was too drunk to notice he’d picked at his plate. It seemed she was.

“Lovely little veranda, get some air there,” said a man who, according to Dame Au’Vigne, was shipping weapons to Nilfgaard behind the backs of multiple heads of state.

Jaskier nodded,stood, bowed, and made his escape. He sighed, but wasn’t surprised to find that Geralt had followed along behind. Of course he wanted to escape the party too, but Jaskier wanted to escape...him.

To his shame and surprise, he found tears in his eyes. The pressure of sitting in a room chock full of people who wanted to kill him, combined with the fact that every last one of them reminded him of being bullied in school, and add to that that he was supposed to be fake engaged to Geralt...it was too much. Fake engaged and even in their fake engagement Geralt didn’t like Jaskier. 

Jaskier’s rational brain knew that Geralt did like him, mostly. He just didn’t love him.

Jaskier leaned his elbows on the railing, overlooking some moonlit gardens, and felt the tears roll down his face.

“They think I don’t like you,” Geralt said quietly.

“Yes,” Jaskier said. He knew Geralt could smell the salt of his tears or whatever, but still turned his face away so the witcher couldn’t see.

“I danced with you though.”

Jaskier chuckled wetly. “Nobles dance with people they hate all the time.”

Geralt was quiet for a minute then, very gently, he took one of Jaskier’s hands. “I don’t hate you.”

It was too much, Jaskier started crying in earnest, sobbing.

“C’mon, Jaskier, I like you. A lot.” Geralt was, for him, panicking clearly. Jaskier almost smiled. He was so bad at dealing with other people’s emotion. And his own.

“You’re my friend,” Geralt said, a little stuntedly. “You know I’m not a good liar.”

Too much. Twenty-two years and he finally said the word ‘friends’ and Jaskier wanted more. He whipped around to face Geralt.

“Tell me the truth, then, Geralt. Tell me you love me, it doesn’t have to be the truth for forever, but can you love me just for a night? Can you make it the truth for tonight?” Jaskier’s tears were ugly and blobby and drying up fast but he continued.

“Because I’ve loved you so long I don’t know any other truth,” He leaned forward and planted his forhead on Geralt’s collarbone and sniffled through the last of his tears, curling one, shaking fist into Geralt’s lovely pale cape as he cried. “Just this one night, Geralt, love me back.”

He hadn’t meant to say any of it, was half expecting Geralt to toss him off the low balcony into the bushes below. 

Instead Jaskier was lifted by two strong arms and sat down on the railing. Warm, delightful lips pressed against his and suddenly he was being kissed within an inch of his life. 

“The truth, you want,” Geralt said, pulling back and panting. “Is the only one I can give. I can’t pretend to love you.” Here Geralt looked into Jaskier’s eyes, like being struck by lightning. “I only love you, no pretending, I swear it.”

“But-” Jaskier was cut off.

“They think I don’t like you,” Geralt said, furiously. “I think you think I don’t like you, Jaskier I like you, I love you so much I don’t know what to do and I’m...I’m not good with words. Or emotions.” Geralt’s shoulders dropped a little. “I just am, and the way I am is... The way I am is better with you.” 

Geralt’s face screwed up with anguish. “And I’m the reason you think I don’t like you, it’s my fault and that feels so...so bad. Yennefer’s been working with me on the feelings thing and always says ‘bad isn’t a feeling’ but I can’t tell you what all the feeling is.”

Jaskier was staring, mouth open, as frustrated, stilted, fumbling words left Geralt’s mouth. They sounded angry, but only at himself. Geralt was looking up at him as if seeking benediction.

“Tell me you love me again,” Jaskier said.

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“I love you.”

“Again.”

Jaskier giggled as Geralt lifted him and spun him around before tucking him in close and kissing his forehead.

“I,” he said.

A kiss to Jaskier’s nose. “Love.”

A deep, breathtaking kiss to his lips. “You.”

There was nothing left for Jaskier to say except, “wow.”

Geralt smiled, that lovely warm little smile he saved for special times and offered his arm to Jaskier. “Shall we?”

They paraded back into the ballroom and danced the final dance of the set. Geralt whispered a suggestion of what he’d really like for dessert and this time Jaskier didn’t have to fake the scandalized giggle. “Back home, perhaps,” he said.

Dessert meant more conversation with Dame Au’Vigne, which was of course unbearable. There was plenty of Champagne though, which was pretty good, and the bubbles seemed to fill Jaskier all the way up. He took pleasure in picturing the downfall of all these horrible people when Nilfgaard was finally defeated for good.

He especially enjoyed sticking it to her gossip when he fed Geralt a strawberry with cream from his fingertips and recieved a kiss in thanks. Geralt was clearly enjoying himself too. He had a sweet tooth, and that certainly helped, but his hand that never left Jaskier’s under the table was a much better clue.

They walked back to the inn, flushed and warm in the cool night air, bidding farewell to the other drunken lords and ladies all filtering to finer inns or grand coaches. 

Then they were alone on their path back, Geralt’s witcher senses confirming their isolation. Then, Geralt, who never told lies, whispered sweet nothings into Jaskier’s ear the entire way home. Jaskier believed every single one.

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

It’s done, this one’s quite long and I loved writing it. Geralt is useless at playing pretend, but very good at loving Jaskier in his own way. I imagine his emotion lessons with Yennefer must have been rather intense. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Looking for a Place to Happen 2

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity, some violence and threats

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: Here’s chapter two. Think I’ll probably slow down writing. Appreciate y’all.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 2: I follow every little whiff

💀💀💀

You gave yourself a day off that week. Rather, the desolation of Birch allowed you an excuse to get away from your desk. An internet outage across the town had you up and wandering the main road just after noon. Your grandmother refused to join you so she was left to her true crime novel and the weekday droning of talk show hosts.

After a peek in the book shop where you picked out some used thrillers for your nan and a guilty splurge on one of Babs' pies to add to the surprise, you stopped by the diner and had some soup to warm up from the unrelenting cold. You played around on your phone as you blindly slurped from your spoon. With no available connection, you swapped candies to achieve a score high enough to get to the next round.

After another loss, you put your screen down and added some pepper to the tomato soup. You leaned your chin in your hand and peered across the road. The Asp was just diagonal from The Chipped Saucer and from your seat by the window you could see the comings and goings of the dingy bar.

You chuckled to yourself as you remembered the hundreds of comments on your video. You weren't entirely surprised that the internet cheered at the sight of a woman beating up a man in broad daylight, you'd seen much worse on the web. But many were curious and asked about how it started and about the small town alluded to in the caption.

You picked up your phone and flipped open the camera. You pointed it through the glass as one of the many bikers strutted out of the bar and down the street. You knew him, like most in town, he was the leader's right hand man. Steve Rogers. He had an odd gait, rigid with long strides, and you remember Kelly used to make fun of him when you walked home from school. That felt like forever ago.

You ended the video and dropped your phone again. You'd send it to Kelly when the outage was over. It would be a good laugh. Plus, you hadn't heard from her much since she moved to the city.

You finished your soup and paid. You went out into the street and cut around to the backstreets. You made your way back to your nans and found Pippin scratching at the front door. You stopped and scooped him up before you let yourself in.

"Don't like the snow, do ya?" You set him down and he whipped his tail before skittering off, "hey nan, I got you some stuff."

"You spend too much," she grumbled as you hung your coat and grabbed her treats.

"Only on you," you sang as you entered the front room, "sugarless blueberry pie, your fave, and some books about murder and all that freaky stuff you love."

"Hmm," she watched you put the pie and books down on the coffee table, "suppose the pie will go good with tea."

"Ah, and I suppose I'll be making that tea?" You returned.

"My arthritis…" she pouted but her grin came through.

"Yeah, yeah," you snickered as you went to the kitchen to put on the kettle, "we going black today or something lighter?"

"Put on some of the pekoe," she called back, "make a whole pot."

"Will do, ma'am," you trilled and basked in her annoyed mutter.

💀

When the internet came back, you sent of an email to inform the agency of the interruption and promised to meet your deadlines. Then you puttered around and added a caption to the video before you sent it off to Kelly; 'why he walk like that tho'. She sent a series of crying emojis back and told you to post it.

'Nah, it's a dumb joke.' You typed back.

'Saw ur last vid, ppl will eat it up,' she insisted.

'Well, got nothing else to put up. The account’s dying since no one cares about my writing.'

'DO IT.' Her words sealed your resolve and you uploaded the video with some dramatic music in the background.

The response was almost instantaneous. Several comments saying they were happy to see more and others being for another video. 'We all wanna see inside this fucked up town' one added and several latched on. Ignoring the questions of where this was, you gave a thin promise of future small town thug content. 

You turned back to your work email and opened up your draft for your next gig. You couldn't help but smile as you went over your work. You might have just found your niche.

💀

You knew your nan would lose it if she knew you were snooping around the club, so you didn’t tell her. You went down, made her breakfast, went back upstairs to do your work, then tiptoed out in the late afternoon to poke around town for something to upload. Birch was so dull when you lived there but to those outside, it was a novelty you were all too eager to provide.

You got more videos of the bikers; some revving their bikes, others arguing, but there was nothing overly usable. You were getting bored of it until the man himself walked out of the bar. You record the man’s glower expression as he marched down the sidewalk and turned off just down the way.

‘His name is Bucket… wtf?!’ you keyed in and snorted as you waited for it to load to your account.

Still, there was nothing special going on, like always in Birch, and your grandmother was bound to get suspicious if you kept sneaking around. You went back and hid your phone before she could bitch about it. You cooked her dinner and sat with her as your thoughts swung between work and your TikTok.

You went to bed but couldn’t sleep. You ended up watching YouTube on your phone as the windows shook with the night winds. It wasn’t until the darkness began to glow that you were roused from the cocoon of your comforter. You looked out and saw smoke coming from the main road.

You didn’t think before you pulled on your jeans and shoved your feet into your slipper, unconcerned about them soaking through as you barreled down the stairs, the sleeves of your hoodie only half on. The back door bounced behind you and you crunched down into the snow and clamored past the row of lifeless houses. 

You were out of breath as you got to the end of the path and rounded the diner to gape over at the burning garage. You got closer as the line of bikers stood in their leather with breath puffing before them in the frigid night. You stepped back into the shadow of the brick façade of the realty office and swiped your camera open.

Your hands shook and you struggled to steady the image on the screen as the mechanic woman raged in only her tee shirt. You didn’t quite understand what was going on; only that her garage was up in smoke and then men were doing nothing to smother it. She swung at the dark haired man and spat at several others; “cowards”... “fuck all of you!”

You gulped and held your breath as she was dragged away by the large redheaded henchman of the slender outsider. She fought for a moment before she was flung over his shoulder and the biker followed their leader back to The Asp. You sidled in between the building and hid until the voices faded into the wind.

Well, that would be a hell of a video. It might even go viral.

💀

Your phone did not stop. You almost felt bad as you saw the screen limn the edges of your cell as you left it face down on the little table beside the couch. Your nan sat in her rocking chair talking away on her corded phone to Linette from down the road. You suspected that every other person in town was gossiping about the same thing; the fire.

You finished your coffee and rubbed your eyes as you checked the time and ignored the pulsing notifications. It was too much to keep up with.

Your grandmother hung up and sighed, “can’t believe it. You hear?”

“Hear what?” you pretended ignorance.

“That old garage burned down. The one with the lady,” she said, “pity. When I was a girl, that place was a salon. Ma used to take us there to get our hair cut. The barber would give us wrapped candies and pretend to cut himself with his scissors.”

“Oh? It burned down?” you weren’t sure you were very convincing but you also could just say you saw it happen.

“Yep, no one really can say. You know, maybe she was welding or some rag caught, but I bet my money on those bikers,” she sneered.

“Good thing you’re poor,” you kidded, “and why the bikers?”

“Oh, well, you know Kimmy, Linette’s girl, works down at the diner and she saw that mechanic arguing with one of those strangers, the ones dealing with the club men. Well, it’s no coincidence that trouble follows those leather jackets around,” she rocked as she nodded knowingly, “oh, one of the boys I knew back in the day, he was found burnt up with his bike. They said the tank blew… well, I saw it and that tank was pristine.”

“Nan,” you gasped, “you… Jesus.”

“Well, things don’t change in Birch, we just get older,” she continued, “when you’re young, everything seems new but then you age and it’s all just the same.”

“Wow, how… inspiring,” you said dryly.

“Girlie, you gotta be careful,” she intoned, “that fire, that’s a lesson to all the women in this town. To everyone. You don’t cross the Commandos.”

“I don’t think anyone--”

“That’s another thing, there has never been a shortage of stupid people, not now not then,” she girded, “those women who get tied up in that club, their lives are already done.”

You frowned and hid your phone in your pocket as you stood. You rubbed your neck and picked up your empty mug, “I should get started.”

“Mmm,” she said as she dialed the phone again, “I wonder if Fran knows yet.” 

💀

You were being really fucking stupid but peer pressure was not a logical thing. Even through a screen, you found it hard to resist the goads. So there you were, your phone in your hand as you live-streamed your walk down to The Asp. The data costs alone would make you regret it but you were caught up in the hype of you fifteen second of internet fame.

“Alright,” you stopped across the street and gave a view of the moniker with Cleopatra sultrily looking down at you, “this is it… I just gotta play it cool…” you turned the lens towards you and smiled nervously, “hopefully that dude at the front doesn’t stop me.”

Comments flicked up the bottom of the screen so fast and smilies and hearts floated up the side around your face. You crossed the screen as you turned your phone against your coat and approached the bar door. The large biker butted out his smoke and you bared your teeth nervously. He didn’t stop you as he rolled his shoulders and coughed.

You entered to the noise of classic rock and low voices, the clink of glasses and tap of chalk on marble. You glanced around and quickly swept your phone around to give a view of the patrons. You hurried over to the bar and climbed up on a stool.

“You need a drink?” the woman behind the bar scowled. She looked worn out even with her lips painted bright pink and her eyes clouded with blue shadow.

“Uh, sure, can I… can I get one pint of everything you have on tap?” you asked as you set your phone down and shrugged out of your coat. You draped it over the next stool and reposition your phone as you flipped the cam and used the built in stand on the case to angle yourself onto the screen.

“Sure,” she narrowed her eyes and glanced past you.

You swung your feet as you waited for her to pour the five pints; some with too much foam and the others with no head at all. You took the first and held it up for the camera.

“A classic, BudLight,” you held it up to the light, “no head and…” you sipped, “flat.” You plunked it down and coughed as you grabbed the next, “this is a raddler?” you looked at the tap for confirmation, “grapefruit… smells like piss…” you had a sip, “tastes like it too.”

You chuckled to yourself and asked for a water. You made a show of swishing it around in your mouth before you moved onto the third beer.

“Had to cleanse the palate,” you joked, “now… lots of foam on this one, dark. You know, I’m pretty surprised they have Guinness here but let’s see…” you tasted it and crinkled your nose, “that’s it. Exactly like toilet water!”

You read some of the comments telling you to check the bottles for bugs and laughed. Suddenly you were yanked off the stool by the back of your shirt and your phone was swiped up by another man as the first restrained you. You struggled against his thick arm as it hooked around your neck and the leader of their crew stared at the screen of your cell.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he snarled as he hit the screen with his thumb but the stream kept going. He dropped the phone to the floor and stomped it instead.

“This is the bitch posting about us online,” the man at your back growled. It was Steve, the one with the weird walk.

“I doubt either of you know how to use a computer,” you scoffed, “hey, let me go.”

“And why would we do that when you’re snitching to the whole world, sweetheart?” Bucky kicked your phone away as he crossed his arms.

“Actually, I’m--” you grasped Steve’s arm as it threatened to get tighter, “--promoting your trash business. I was just having a tasting, if you had just asked--”

“Shut up!” Bucky stepped closer and brought your legs up and stopped him as you planted your feet against his stomach.

“Hey,” a woman’s voice came from behind the bar as the waitress shoved aside her empty tray, “hey, she’s just a kid.”

“Bullshit,” Bucky huffed, “she looks full-grown to me.”

“So what are you gonna do?” she said, “she’s young. You can’t--”

“Don’t tell me what I can’t do,” he snapped.

“She’s right,” another voice intoned and that man, Sam, came up beside them with a pool cue in hand, “she’s just goofing around.”

“She’s a rat,” Steve insisted.

“You’re being dramatic. It’s called a meme and you do walk a little strange,” he chuckled, “no one’s gonna follow her breadcrumbs back to this shithole anyway.”

Bucky considered Sam and then looked at Steve. He poked his cheek with his tongue and sucked his teeth.

“So… you vouching for her?” Bucky asked.

“She won’t cause any more trouble, promise,” Sam said, “I’ll make sure of it.”

“You better,” Bucky snapped his fingers and you were released, “get her out of here.” 

[niseamstories]

10 Lessons on Realistic Worldbuilding and Mapmaking I Learned Working With a Professional Cartographer and Geodesist

Hi, fellow writers and worldbuilders,

It’s been over a year since my post on realistic swordfighting, and I figured it’s time for another one. I’m guessing the topic is a little less “sexy”, but I’d find this useful as a writer, so here goes: 10 things I learned about realistic worldbuilding and mapmaking while writing my novel.

I’ve always been a sucker for pretty maps, so when I started on my novel, I hired an artist quite early to create a map for me. It was beautiful, but a few things always bothered me, even though I couldn’t put a finger on it. A year later, I met an old friend of mine, who currently does his Ph.D. in cartography and geodesy, the science of measuring the earth. When the conversation shifted to the novel, I showed him the map and asked for his opinion, and he (respectfully) pointed out that it has an awful lot of issues from a realism perspective.

First off, I’m aware that fiction is fiction, and it’s not always about realism; there are plenty of beautiful maps out there (and my old one was one of them) that are a bit fantastical and unrealistic, and that’s all right. Still, considering the lengths I went to ensure realism for other aspects of my worldbuilding, it felt weird to me to simply ignore these discrepancies. With a heavy heart, I scrapped the old map and started over, this time working in tandem with a professional artist, my cartographer friend, and a linguist. Six months later, I’m not only very happy with the new map, but I also learned a lot of things about geography and coherent worldbuilding, which made my universe a lot more realistic.

1)  Realism Has an Effect: While there’s absolutely nothing wrong with creating an unrealistic world, realism does affect the plausibility of a world. Even if the vast majority of us probably know little about geography, our brains subconsciously notice discrepancies; we simply get this sense that something isn’t quite right, even if we don’t notice or can’t put our finger on it. In other words, if, for some miraculous reason, an evergreen forest borders on a desert in your novel, it will probably help immersion if you at least explain why this is, no matter how simple.

2)  Climate Zones: According to my friend, a cardinal sin in fantasy maps are nonsensical climate zones. A single continent contains hot deserts, forests, and glaciers, and you can get through it all in a single day. This is particularly noticeable in video games, where this is often done to offer visual variety (Enderal, the game I wrote, is very guilty of this). If you aim for realism, run your worldbuilding by someone with a basic grasp of geography and geology, or at least try to match it to real-life examples.

3)  Avoid Island Continent Worlds: Another issue that is quite common in fictional worlds is what I would call the “island continents”: a world that is made up of island-like continents surrounded by vast bodies of water. As lovely and romantic as the idea of those distant and secluded worlds may be, it’s deeply unrealistic. Unless your world was shaped by geological forces that differ substantially from Earth’s, it was probably at one point a single landmass that split up into fragmented landmasses separated by waters. Take a look at a proper map of our world: the vast majority of continents could theoretically be reached by foot and relatively manageable sea passages. If it weren’t so, countries such as Australia could have never been colonized – you can’t cross an entire ocean on a raft.

4)  Logical City Placement: My novel is set in a Polynesian-inspired tropical archipelago; in the early drafts of the book and on my first map, Uunili, the nation’s capital, stretched along the entire western coast of the main island. This is absurd. Not only because this city would have been laughably big, but also because building a settlement along an unprotected coastline is the dumbest thing you could do considering it directly exposes it to storms, floods, and, in my case, monsoons. Unless there’s a logical reason to do otherwise, always place your coastal settlements in bays or fjords.

 Naturally, this extends to city placement in general. If you want realism and coherence, don’t place a city in the middle of a godforsaken wasteland or a swamp just because it’s cool. There needs to be a reason. For example, the wasteland city could have started out as a mining town around a vast mineral deposit, and the swamp town might have a trading post along a vital trade route connecting two nations.

 5)  Realistic Settlement Sizes: As I’ve mentioned before, my capital Uunili originally extended across the entire western coast. Considering Uunili is roughly two thirds the size of Hawaii  the old visuals would have made it twice the size of Mexico City. An easy way to avoid this is to draw the map using a scale and stick to it religiously. For my map, we decided to represent cities and townships with symbols alone.

 6)  Realistic Megacities: Uunili has a population of about 450,000 people. For a city in a Middle Ages-inspired era, this is humongous. While this isn’t an issue, per se (at its height, ancient Alexandria had a population of about 300,000), a city of that size creates its own set of challenges: you’ll need a complex sewage system (to minimize disease spreading like wildfire) and strong agriculture in the surrounding areas to keep the population fed. Also, only a small part of such a megacity would be enclosed within fantasy’s ever-so-present colossal city walls; the majority of citizens would probably concentrate in an enormous urban sprawl in the surrounding areas. To give you a pointer, with a population of about 50,000, Cologne was Germany’s biggest metropolis for most of the Middle Ages. I’ll say it again: it’s fine to disregard realism for coolness in this case, but at least taking these things into consideration will not only give your world more texture but might even provide you with some interesting plot points.

 7)  World Origin: This point can be summed up in a single question: why is your world the way it is? If your novel is set in an archipelago like mine is, are the islands of volcanic origin? Did they use to be a single landmass that got flooded with the years? Do the inhabitants of your country know about this? Were there any natural disasters to speak of? Yes, not all of this may be relevant to the story, and the story should take priority over lore, but just like with my previous point, it will make your world more immersive.

 8)  Maps: Think Purpose! Every map in history had a purpose. Before you start on your map, think about what yours might have been. Was it a map people actually used for navigation? If so, clarity should be paramount. This means little to no distracting ornamentation, a legible font, and a strict focus on relevant information. For example, a map used chiefly for military purposes would naturally highlight different information than a trade map. For my novel, we ultimately decided on a “show-off map” drawn for the Blue Island Coalition, a powerful political entity in the archipelago (depending on your world’s technology level, maps were actually scarce and valuable). Also, think about which technique your in-universe cartographer used to draw your in-universe map. Has copperplate engraving already been invented in your fictional universe? If not, your map shouldn’t use that aesthetic.

9)  Maps: Less Is More. If a spot or an area on a map contains no relevant information, it can (and should) stay blank so that the reader’s attention naturally shifts to the critical information. Think of it this way: if your nav system tells you to follow a highway for 500 miles, that’s the information you’ll get, and not “in 100 meters, you’ll drive past a little petrol station on the left, and, oh, did I tell you about that accident that took place here ten years ago?” Traditional maps follow the same principle: if there’s a road leading a two day’s march through a desolate desert, a black line over a blank white ground is entirely sufficient to convey that information.

10) Settlement and Landmark Names: This point will be a bit of a tangent, but it’s still relevant. I worked with a linguist to create a fully functional language for my novel, and one of the things he criticized about my early drafts were the names of my cities. It’s embarrassing when I think about it now, but I really didn’t pay that much attention to how I named my cities; I wanted it to sound good, and that was it. Again: if realism is your goal, that’s a big mistake. Like Point 5, we went back to the drawing board and dove into the archipelago’s history and established naming conventions. In my novel, for example, the islands were inhabited by indigenes called the Makehu before the colonization four hundred years before the events of the story; as it’s usually the case, all settlements and islands had purely descriptive names back then. For example, the main island was called Uni e Li, which translates as “Mighty Hill,” a reference to the vast mountain ranges in the south and north; townships followed the same example (e.g., Tamakaha meaning “Coarse Sands”). When the colonizers arrived, they adopted the Makehu names and adapted them into their own language, changing the accented, long vowels to double vowels: Uni e Li became “Uunili,” Lehō e Āhe became “Lehowai.” Makehu townships kept their names; colonial cities got “English” monikers named after their geographical location, economic significance, or some other original story. Examples of this are Southport, a—you guessed it—port on the southernmost tip of Uunili, or Cale’s Hope, a settlement named after a businessman’s mining venture. It’s all details, and chances are that most readers won’t even pay attention, but I personally found that this added a lot of plausibility and immersion.

I could cover a lot more, but this post is already way too long, so I’ll leave it at that—if there’s enough interest, I’d be happy to make a part two. If not, well, maybe at least a couple of you got something useful out of this. If you’re looking for inspiration/references to show to your illustrator/cartographer, the David Rumsey archive is a treasure trove. Finally, for anyone who doesn’t know and might be interested, my novel is called Dreams of the Dying, and is a blends fantasy, mystery, and psychological horror set in the universe of Enderal, an indie RPG for which I wrote the story. It’s set in a Polynesian-inspired medieval world and has been described as Inception in a fantasy setting by reviewers.

Credit for the map belongs to Dominik Derow, who did the ornamentation, and my friend Fabian Müller, who created the map in QGIS and answered all my questions with divine patience. The linguist’s name is David Müller (no, they’re not related, and, yes, we Germans all have the same last names.)

[professional-benaddict]

mafia boss tony x little peter where peter sneaks down into the basement to see his daddy only to find him dealing with a mole in his organisation. tony expects him to be scared but peter just sees it as his daddy being strong and wanting to stay and watch, maybe later have a go at the prisoner

this has been in my drafts fOrever and I finally got in Da Mood ;)) I hope you like it darling!!

Mafia AU, Mafia boss and Daddy Tony, +18 Little Peter, torture, blood, knives, dark

Tony’s dedication to detail is particularly important to him in his field of work. There is a time and place for everything, and things generally go well when they are planned and thought through in advance. And if things do happen to go awry, Tony has the power and strength in his arsenal to make things go his way. It is a privilege he cherishes, and nourishes with dedicated and loyal people around him. Because there is one person whom he cannot control as he wants to. And that is Peter.

Tony found Peter years ago, and in a sense he also found himself. He found another role, a caregiver Daddy role, that he never would have imagined would bring him such joy and sunshine into his shady life in the shadowy undergrounds. The boy is unpredictable, and Tony loves him for it. Although, he might not admit it in the moment.

Peter is usually a helpful member of the gang, even if he mostly lays around showing off skin and eating sour candy like a pillow princess. He lightens the mood for everyone, and even more so when he is in his littlespace. It is just that no one really knows when and for how long Peter will be Little. He might not even know it himself.

Even if Tony and his closest helpers, Steve, Bucky and Stephen are busy, Peter still has two Doberman dogs to entertain him and keep him company. The dogs are two males from the same litter, and named Diablo and Rogue. Tony has trained them himself, and with an iron fist. The dogs are as obedient as they can possibly be. Tony has a sense that the dogs recognise the dynamic between Tony and Peter, since the dogs guard the boy as if he were their own youngling.

With both his meticulous planning and the two dogs keeping Peter occupied, Tony thought that he would have the basement for himself. He might have to specify Steve, Bucky and Stephen’s duties when it comes to keeping Peter in check when he is in littlespace. Because, now the boy is stood at the door to the basement, his head cocked to the side in curiosity at the sight in front of him.

It is a sight from hell, essentially. There is blood and bodily tissues scattered on the concrete floor. Maybe even a tooth or two, or it is just two rocks. In the middle of the room, Tony is stood with a dripping butcher’s knife in his hand. To decorate his hell, he had been carving shapes into his victim’s torso. Not deep enough to bleed out, but not shallow enough to not make a pretty, red picture.

Tony’s victim whines pitifully behind his gag where he is tied to a metal chair. To prevent unwanted escapes, the chair is bolted to the concrete floor. Peter’s eyes flicker from Tony to the bleeding man, but he does not avert his gaze elsewhere in disgust or fear. On both of Peter’s sides, Diablo and Rogue appear. The Dobermans’ ears perk up and they trot over slowly, sniffing the floor, Tony and the still whimpering and crying man.

“What you doing, Daddy?” Peter asks, his tone bright and curious. He pads into the basement on bare feet, cringing a bit at the coldness of the concrete. Tony’s heart aches at the way Peter pouts. “Can I do it too?”

“Baby- Daddy’s busy now. Go be a good boy and wait with Diablo and Rogue, yeah?” Tony suggests, gesturing to the door with the knife still in his hand.

“But, I wanna too!” Peter whines. Both the dogs pick up on Peter’s distress, and they look at Tony with their black eyes pleadingly like they are Peter’s number one advocates. Rogue lets out a quick bark.

“Shush, you beast.” Tony snaps to the dogs, but they do not seem to care. Perhaps they are also regressing along with Peter, because somehow they always fail to listen when the boy is being playful or bratty. “Peter, go upstairs and find Steve or Bucky. They can wait with you.”

“No, thanks.” Peter says, stepping further into the room and approaching the third person with them. The man is about Tony’s age, but he looks nothing like him. Peter can see right through him. “Let me too, Daddy?”

With a soft sigh, Tony flicks the knife in his hold, offering Peter the side with the handle. The boy’s lips twitch upwards into a sick smile, which Tony has never seen before. But, he is not going to complain.

“Look at how I’ve done it, here- Human skin can be a bit tough, but I’ve sharpened the knife. It will cut through like butter. There- yes. Good boy. A little deeper… That’s his rib there. If you want, you can break some of them.”

To Tony’s delight, Peter nods eagerly with child-like innocent. Tony smiles slyly. Perhaps he has underestimated Peter, or misunderstood him completely. At first, Tony thought that Peter was just a pillow princess, and instead, he is the biggest devil in his littlespace.

“Wanna be Daddy’s bad little boy?”

“Yes, Daddy… Can we feed Diablo and Rogue with the bad-bad man?”

“Oh, I like the way you think, baby. I think we should.”

[enhyupn]

the perfect date! chapter one

masterlist | next

a series in which enhypen’s 02s competitive side shines through when trying to get your attention. the only solution to end this tiring rivalry? three dates with each of them in the course of three weeks.

paring: 02s x gn!reader

word count: 3k

genre: fluff, angst, high school!au, someone’s gonna end up heartbroken

warnings: swearing, violence is mentioned

ask to be on taglist, updates are irregular

a/n i literally had to dig this out of my drafts so i don’t even know myself what i’ve written PLSSS

taglist: @dchannie17 @simluvbot @jaeyuni @neocrush

falling in love at the age of twelve wasn’t what you were expecting while learning basic algebra. being heartbroken at the age of thirteen while reciting shakespeare was also not as expected. the cause of both of these unforgettable moments? park jongseong, or otherwise known as jay to almost everyone around you. your first love was something that stuck with you, even in the present. he was your seat mate in three of your classes and the person you would ask for the homework right before it’s due date. it was a one sided crush, it was quite obvious to you. he was popular, sporty and incredibly talkative, you were one out of maybe twenty people that had a huge bulging crush on him. 

at age fourteen you vowed to forget about him, the previous year he had moved to america to improve his english abilities which had put you in a miserable mood for almost all of your middle school life. who else was supposed to give you the math homework? how were you supposed to feel excited to go to school when jay wasn’t going to be there? your barely-a-teen mindset made you think you were never going to get over him.

flashing forward to freshmen year of high school, new school, new class and a clean slate to basically pretend you were a completely different person. no more being dependent on other people! no more trying to do anything to get friends! no more—

“hi, my name’s jake” oh boy.

and that’s how jake sim entered your life. it was his australian accent peaking through his words as he flashed you an energetic smile that pulled you in. you could of fallen for him at that instance, well you could of fallen for him throughout your years of friendship but the returning thought of your first love entirely stopped that process. jake sim was like a breath of fresh air, he was everywhere you went and had your back for everything.

you were his best friend and you thought of him like one too, you two were practically glued to one another. of course you had side comments, gossip that the two of you were dating or one of you two had an one sided crush (the latter part of that sentence we aren’t going to get that much into) but it didn’t make you two feel awkward or anything like that. with jake you almost forgot about jay (algebra and shakespeare being the things that stimulates the memory of him). although it wasn’t like jake was a rebound, you think yourself you’ve felt happier when you were around jake. i mean jake’s definitely popular, rivalling jay’s popularity in middle school even. if you asked anyone in your school who they’ve had a crush on, jake sim is number one on that list. he had some type of air around him, always being incredibly positive, he quite literally radiated the colour yellow. maybe you had a type when it came to people you associated with.

the close second on that list was maybe the complete opposite to jake in terms of their public image to the school. park sunghoon was the class president in your class. academically gifted, popular with the female population in your school, a talented figure skater, a stereotypical cold and distant beauty, there were a lot of layers to sunghoon. you personally had never really talked to him, the only time being when he had dropped papers on the ground in the hallways, maybe a few months ago. you helped him pick them up before carrying them with him to the teacher’s staff room. even then, you two had barely shared any words during that whole incident besides a “thank you”.

still, you could say you respected sunghoon. i mean who could have the energy to do his whole schedule besides him? you definitely could not. plus the way he was one of the most popular bachelors added to his busy schedule. the most recent valentine’s day was the proof as well as it was record breaking in your terms of your classes history with the day. having jake and sunghoon meant there were a lot of people trying to confess their feelings entering your classroom. last year, jake was stopped twenty three times the whole day, beating out sunghoon’s twenty sudden confessions. this year, there a sudden decline in jake’s confessions, a whopping three people only expressing their feelings desperately to him as he politely declined. sunghoon’s number rose by about ten people, expected but still a little shocking.

it wasn’t like the two of them cared about it, the only thing they did care about though was being polite when rejecting people. you couldn’t really sympathise with jake or sunghoon whenever they had to prepare yet another rejection, the only confession you’ve received being from yoon hyunsuk that was quite awkward considering he was a family friend and you saw him almost every week after you had rejected him.

anyways, returning to present time where you were doing your regular daily routine for a weekday. it always went waking up way too early, under eating breakfast in hopes to get the bus on time, meeting jake on the bus, walking to class with him and trying to not fall asleep in the middle of math class. it started off completely normal, maybe a little too normal.

“did you hear?” jake whispered in your ear. the two of you were supposed to individually practice questions but the chattery side of jake honestly got the best of him at moments like these.

“what is it?” you reply back quietly.

“a transfer student is coming in after lunch ends, one from america” now that really got your attention. you turn to him with your eyes wide in surprise, curiosity taking over you completely as you ignore the difficult question in front of you.

“did you see them?” jake couldn’t help but feel the sudden heat rush to his face as your sparkling eyes met his. “how do you even know this?”.

“ryujin told me plus, i saw a bit of him at the principal’s office” you looked behind him, trying to get a glimpse of the mentioned girl. the concentrated look on her face as she tried to solve the maths problem was evidence to you that she hadn’t heard her name being mentioned by jake. “said something about bleached hair that was definitely going to get the teachers mad”.

“now you got me excited” your small smile only sending butterflies to his stomach. you turn your head back down to face the still blank piece of paper, deciding that it was about time you started on that question.

“y’know he kinda looked familiar” the questioning tone in jake’s voice caught your attention, turning back to him in confusion.

“what do you mean?” a pout formed on your face. more confusion took over your face when you realised jake looked away from you quite fast, his ears turning a slight shade of pink.

“i— i don’t know” he silently cursed himself for letting himself fall deeper into his one sided crush from only small moments. his sudden black mind caused him to forget what he was meant to say to you, only leaving you puzzled by his words.

jake sitting opposite to you as you ate your unsettlingly warm sandwich, was really the only thing really going on during lunch that say. although weirdly enough, park sunghoon’s glances and staring was a new addition to your lunch time. even without directly looking at him, you could feel his eyes as they dug into the back of your head.

“you know you can relax, sunghoon’s not gonna bite you” jake commented on your stiffness. you bit your lip anxiously when you realised how loud he was being, not wanting sunghoon to know he was currently the topic of conversation between the two of you.

“if you speak any louder he might hear you” you angrily whispered to his face as you rolled your eyes. the boy chuckled before placing a small ball of rice into his mouth.

“he won’t idiot” jake tells you with maybe little too much confidence. you noticed that sunghoon had looked away from you abruptly, his cheeks visibly reddening as he faced his desk. “oh”.

“why are you like this?” you expressed you concerns. jake shrugged his shoulders, not understanding where you were coming from. “i should be excited for the new student, not trying to tame you from embarrassing our class president!”, your voice lowering at the last few words.

“i think he wants to tell you something”

“i think i want you to shut up” you muttered and you took another bite from your sandwich, wincing at the warm tomato and soggy lettuce that came into contact with your mouth.

jake was about to fire back but was only stopped by your phone violently vibrating on the table. your eyes widen in embarrassment as you frantically tried to get to it. you turn your phone to look at the screen, a notification telling you someone was calling you. jake tried to take a peek at your phone, only abandoning the plan when he saw you glare at him.

“hey yeojin” a small smile forming on your lips when reciting your middle school friend’s name. im yeojin was your best friend up until high school when her parents made her go to an all girls boarding school instead of your co-ed high school. she hated it so much when it was initially brought up by them but from the looks of it now, she’s actually enjoying herself. yeojin was the only person, excluding jake, that ever knew about your crush on jay. jake found out when the two of you were looking through old middle school pictures, you pointed at jay in a class photo and that’s the story on how jake knows about jay’s existence. “what’s up?”.

“i’m not supposed to be on my phone” her voice was frantic. you knew from her many, many letters that her school was strict when it came to personal phones. she was only allowed it everyday for thirty minutes during lunch on the weekdays, three hours on the weekends. “but, i have some exciting news for you”.

“what is it?” jake could see your eyes glisten in curiosity. he chuckled to himself as he placed his chin in his palm, his full attention being placed onto you.

“guess”

“i can’t believe you’re doing this right now” you squinted in annoyance at her playfully attitude.

“i was kidding” yeojin’s contagious laugh caught up to you, making it look like you forgot about her joke on you. “but you know how you’re old instagram account got deleted because of—”

“don’t say it” you interrupted through gritted teeth. jake laughed loudly at your reaction, catching the attention of sunghoon yet again.

“anyways, and you basically lost all of our middle school classes handles?”

“yes, i remember it all a little too well” embarrassment laced through your words as you remembered the never-to-be-mentioned-again memory.

“anyways so jay...” your eyes lit up at the mention of his name, an unsettling feeling in jake’s stomach appearing due to your expression. “he’s back!”.

“he’s back?” you stood up from your seat in surprise. your class looked at you in concern before you apologised as you embarrassing lowered yourself down to your seat. “you’re not kidding me right?”.

“why would i lie?” you could feel yeojin’s eyes rolling through the phone. “oh shit, patrol’s back. gotta go, i’ll send a letter soon—”

jake watched as you ended the call staying seated with your eyes widened, unable to process what had happen. you couldn’t pinpoint any of the emotions you were feeling, were you happy? anxious? scared? you had no clue. you bite your lip, hoping the action can help your blank mind.

“so—”

“is this 3-A?” a loud voice entering the class interrupted jake, causing the boy to sigh out of frustration.

you turned your head in the direction. you felt yourself shake in more shock when you realised who the person at the entrance was, and from the way they looked back at you, he realised who you were to. you abruptly looked away, facing the window on your left with your face burning up as you held up a hand to cover your face.

jake’s puzzled expression took over his face before putting the pieces together. his heart was beating at such a fast rate that he felt breathless, he didn’t think he was at all ready to see his crush’s first love entering their own classroom.

he watched as sunghoon did his usual mannerly class president thing, standing up from his seat all professional and kind before making his way to jay with an open hand for him to shake.

“hello, you’re earlier than expected” sunghoon smiled, unsure if it was genuine or not due to the fact the boy in front of him didn’t even acknowledge his presence. he dropped his hand before letting out a quiet irritated sigh, trying to figure out what he had his eyes on.

even with sunghoon’s growing annoyed expression, jay’s eyes were still trained on you. it was like you were frozen, no muscle in your body allowed you to move as you blankly stared outside the window. the only thing moving was your eyes shutting completely as you felt footsteps coming your way, instantly knowing who it belonged to.

“y/n” a cheery voice made it’s way to jay’s words.

sunghoon raised an eyebrow at the two of you, not entirely following this whole situation. how did he know you? why did you seem so embarrassed? bashful even? and why was jake staring at jay like he just killed his family?

“j-jay hey, y-you’re back” you finally turned your head, however still unable to look at him in the eyes. jay chuckled at the way you tripped over your words, memories of the two of you from middle school playing in his head. he glanced down beside you, the empty seat almost begging him to sit there.

you almost feel yourself jump into your seat when you noticed jay was pulling back the chair beside you as he prepared himself to sit down. at this point jake’s face was visibly red, glaring at jay for reasons that cannot be exactly explained and sunghoon’s feet had even brought him all the way to your desk meaning he had a full view of this whole mess. you four had the whole classes attention, even with some whispering to each other about you. 

“it’s been a while” jay smiled through his words as he sat down, his position facing you as you struggled to make eye contact. you could feel yourself sweating from the unbearable heat coming from your cheeks, your head still blank unable to think properly.

“you two know each other?” sunghoon asked curiously as he placed his hand on his hip. you don’t know why but you cursed sunghoon silently in your head for asking that question, the thought of jay telling him you were only his friend pained you.

“yeah, middle school classmates” jay finally acknowledged the boy’s presence. sunghoon nodded in reply as he scanned your expression, unable to understand how you were feeling. “i had— i can’t say it it’s too embarrassing actually” jay rubbed his neck embarrassingly before turning away in embarrassment, only for his eyes to meet jakes.

“no, carry on” jake’s few words came out as a little passive aggressive but didn’t particularly offend jay in any way. it was quite obvious to everyone but you that jake was being a little jealous, possessive maybe from the way he glared at jay and sunghoon, who frankly didn’t really do anything up until this point.

“oh okay...” jay didn’t know why he felt nervous. maybe it was cause jake couldn’t keep his glare off of him or he was about to regret his next few words. “i had the biggest crush on y/n”.

now that got your attention. with wide eyes your eyes made contact with his at last, his cheeks were tinted pink and he had a bashful smile spread across his lips. you could even see jake in the corner of your eyes closing his mouth as he tried to recover from the shock. while sunghoon, who was right behind jay, looked like he wasn’t completely over the shocking revelation.

“i—” you felt speechless. this was the first time you’ve heard anything about this, you didn’t even think you were ever going to hear those words. you once again tried to open your mouth in an attempt to reply but was just met with nothing.

“they didn’t like me back though” jay continued. you looked at him like he was crazy, your eyebrows raised with confusion taking over your face.

“but i—”

“y/n can we talk....” jake’s voice interrupting your soon to be confession as he stared at you with a serious expression. you turned to him, once again not fully processing this whole situation. “...outside the classroom?”.

you glanced back to jay who looked visibly irritated, rolling his eyes as he ran his fingers through his hair. sunghoon just stood behind him, staring at jake with what looked to be some sort of fear. letting out a sigh, you stood up from your seat as you looked jake in the eyes.

“let’s go outside jake” you were slightly thankful for his sudden request due to you not wanting to be stuck in that suffocating environment. you watched as he stood up from his seat, his expression changing into quite an anxious one.

the curiosity didn’t leave you as you followed jake out of the classroom, you even heard your classmates whisper to each other as you passed them. you didn’t even want to look back to see the face of jay, you had ended your long awaited reunion short just to go talk to your best friend by the staircase. jake glanced around the area to make sure nobody was there to listen to what he had to say.

“thanks for getting me out of there—”

“i like you” those three words almost made you faint on the spot.

was it time to wake up now?

[montrealmadison]

drink deeply

or, as they say at samwell, “penitus potes.” shitty gives the toast at jack and bitty’s wedding. for @zimbitsweddingofficial and day two of zimbits wedding week: the wedding itself!

just for fun, a draft version of the beginning of this fic with lardo, ransom, and holster’s “helpful” edits can be found via google doc here. hope y’all enjoy! <3

Good evening, everyone! On behalf of Jack and Eric, thank you all so much for being here tonight, and welcome to what could very well be the most highly anticipated wedding reception of 2019. I mean, this party was planned by the likes of Suzanne Bittle and Alicia Zimmermann. We are in for a treat, folks.

Before we get to all that, I’d also like to extend a particular welcome to those in attendance who are part of the playing, coaching, and/or office staff of the Providence Falconers. Glad you could all make it this evening; I know this past week was a little bit busy for you guys.

[Insert appropriate pause and gesture to the punch bowl, which on closer inspection is actually—oh yeah—the Stanley Cup the Falcs won three days ago. Hold for inevitable applause, general hysteria, and/or hooting/hollering from Tater.]

For those of you who don’t know me, I’ve been trying to decide whether I should introduce myself by my first name, which will inevitably get me mocked by my friends until the end of time, or by my nickname, which will definitely scandalize anyone who has not spent a significant amount of time around twenty-year-old guys who play hockey. However, as I look around the room, I’m realizing that most of you probably either raised, spent significant time around, or were once a twenty-year-old guy who played hockey. To the rest of you, I am profoundly sorry.

So, hi! I’m Shitty, and I’m Jack’s best man.

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Being someone’s best man, as I’ve realized over the last few months, should really come with a playbook or an instruction manual or something, because it’s a task unlike any other you’ll ever take on. In addition to being a friend, you have to be a confidant, an expert at bachelor-party debauchery (I think my college resume definitely prepared me for this part) and someone who’s not afraid to step in to make last-minute decisions so the grooms don’t have to. You also have to do all of these things without getting fired from your job or stepping on anyone’s toes, up to and including: the couple getting married, the other people in the wedding party, the grooms’ parents, the wedding planner, and most importantly, Moomaw, whose word is law around here. 

(Seriously. She made the pie tonight, people. Bow down to her.)

But as much as the role can feel a little bit like you’re being thrown in at the deep end, it also definitely comes with its perks. Tonight, I have both the honor and the challenge of somehow summarizing how much I love Jack and Eric in a speech that is heartfelt and witty yet also brief so that we can get to the aforementioned pie as quickly as possible. If you’re still following me here, that is a tall order—but here goes nothing!

I met Jack Zimmermann on our first day of freshman year at Samwell, during the bright, hot summer of 2011. I was participating in the time-honored tradition of moving into a dorm on the third floor of a building with no elevator and no air conditioning in the middle of August. It builds character, or so the good folks in Samwell administration probably tell themselves. Anyway, athletes got to move in early for preseason, so I was expecting to be one of the only guys on the floor for at least a couple days. I was just carrying the last box into my room when the door next to mine opened and—well, you can probably guess who walked out.

Now, I grew up in Boston, which means I also grew up around hockey culture. I’d heard the news that Jack was coming to Samwell, so I knew who he was when he stepped into the hall in that same vague way that you kind of-sort of recognize celebrities hustling down the street or through the airport with their sunglasses on. And he gave me that same vibe—“I know you know who I am, and I’d very much like not to be bothered about it.”

Here is something that will not shock you if you know us: Jack was the first friend I made in college. Here is something that might shock you if you know us: That definitely doesn’t mean we were friends at first. By his own admission, Jack wasn’t at Samwell to make friends at all. He told me, much later, that he was only planning to go to play hockey, get his life back on track, and keep his head down as much as possible.

So in retrospect, maybe it was an unlucky thing for Jack that he ran into the one person who wasn’t going to let him do that.

Because no matter who you are or where you’re from, freshman year of college breeds a unique kind of terror I’ve never felt anywhere else. There’s a lot of pressure to completely remake yourself, to become the person you maybe never could have been in your hometown. By coming to Samwell, I wanted to be a different kind of kid than the one that Andover had raised. Jack wanted to be a different kind of kid than the one he’d spent twenty years telling himself he had to be. As much as neither of us wanted to admit it, we both wanted similar things out of our college experience, and we needed a support system to do that. And so, however begrudging the two of us were about it at first, we started to bond more and more.

It wasn’t always easy. For one thing, my idea of a good time was a lot louder than Jack’s—who enjoyed such scintillating pursuits as “watching golf” and “going to bed at a reasonable hour”, neither of which were quite in my vocabulary at the ripe old age of eighteen. Also, if it’s before six in the morning, he has a hard time remembering to speak English, which used to make for a lot of stilted conversations between the two of us as we walked to early morning practice. (On a completely unrelated note, the first and probably only thing I ever learned in Québécois is how to swear.)

I don’t remember the exact tipping point at which Jack and I really became friends; I think it was more of a quiet acknowledgment that we liked having each other around, that we balanced each other out in ways that neither of us initially knew we needed. What I do know is that, slowly but surely, I started to get glimpses of the Jack that exists off the ice. And so began one of the most extraordinary journeys of my life, because the only thing crazier than knowing Jack Zimmermann is actually knowing Jack.

Here are some things that I’ve learned in the process: He’s on his third pair of neon yellow running shoes, which he buys specifically because the color makes him happy. Before either of us tried Eric’s pies, the only thing that could make him cheat on a meal plan was a sleeve of Double Stuf Oreos. (Don’t ask him how to eat them correctly unless you’re interested in a twenty-minute speech on exactly how they have to be pulled apart.) And he loves Captain America, although it is the opinion of this best man that America’s ass has nothing on his hockey butt. Have you seen that thing? It has Internet fans in at least two different countries. 

But I digress.

In our sophomore year we lived next to each other again, by choice instead of by chance, in what I can only describe as the pinnacle of American college living: the Samwell Men’s Hockey Haus. We used to pull the comforter off of one of our beds and climb out onto the roof and clear off the snow so we could share the blanket, look up at the stars, and listen to the bass thumping through the wall of the house next door. On nights when other things felt confusing, this one part of my life was clear. There’s something about sitting out under the open sky that just makes it easier to talk to a guy, you know? 

Some nights the conversations we had were funny. Some nights they were serious. Some nights we said nothing at all, just sat secure in the knowledge that someone cared enough to exist alongside us for a little while. There was always an unspoken agreement between us on nights like these: I got your back. For me, Jack’s friendship became a rock, a refuge. It’s something that I came to depend on that year and still do to this day.

As for the content of those late-night conversations—well, some things do have to stay between friends. I’m sure Jack will agree, especially because he has so graciously allowed me to get up here and lovingly roast him just a little bit.

So let’s skip ahead again, to yet another August, the start of our junior year, and the arrival on the scene of one Eric Bittle. This kid burst into our ranks like a ray of Southern sunshine and turned pretty much everything upside down in the process. In the first five minutes of being in the Haus, he somehow made us a pie? Folks, I'm not kidding, it was the best thing I’ve ever eaten. We were a bunch of guys who didn’t know what we were missing until we had it, and let me tell you, it was one hell of a semester after that. In pretty short order we had curtains on the windows and baked goods on the counters, and Samwell Men’s Hockey started to become not only a team but a family.

That was off the ice, at least. On it, things were a little more complicated. As our dear friend and former goalie John Johnson said to me, Jack and Eric hadn’t gone through their character development yet—whatever that means. 

Take our third or fourth practice with the full team that year, for example. It had gone… uh. Poorly, would be a word. Later that night I heard some rustling on the roof outside, and God knows I was willing to do just about anything but my homework—so I stuck my head out the window and there was Jack, watching the stars. I asked him if he wanted a buddy, and he said alright, so I slid out and sat down next to him.

That was pretty usual for us at this point. What wasn’t usual was the topic of conversation. The first thing Jack said to me was, “Bittle’s gonna get eaten alive when our schedule starts.” (Remember, people, they’re married now!) The second was, “I want to help.”

Here’s another thing about Jack: Underneath the veneer is a guy who just cares so intensely it’d shock you if you knew nothing else about him. It shocked me a little that day. I think it even shocked him to admit it, to the point where I had to say, “Jack, it’s not a criminal offense to care about other people. Even if it feels like you’re doing it for yourself.”

So he helped. He offered an olive branch, and Bits took him up on it. I’d hear the two of them get up in the morning, hours before the rest of us had to be at Faber, for checking practice. None of the rest of us ever knew exactly what went down, but one thing was for sure—Eric put in a ton of work to overcome some of the fears that had followed him to college. He got better, and Jack relaxed. The two of them really started working as a team, and things started looking up from there.

The day that they told us they were dating was pretty amazing. Eric is so full of light no matter how bleak a situation may look, but that day he was literally almost glowing. And I’ve seen Jack in moments after victory and loss, at his best and at his worst. But I’ve never seen a Jack who was so happy, possessed of such confidence in a decision he’d made, as I saw him that day at brunch. And that’s when I knew this relationship was really special. 

From there, many of you know the story. You watched it play out on ESPN and social media and the front pages of every single gossip magazine on the supermarket shelves. But if you’re sitting here with us tonight, you also watched it play out between Jack and Eric themselves. You’ve watched them handle expectations as a united front. You’ve watched their unfailing dedication to each other while they navigate the pressure of being some pretty big firsts. You know that, behind the scenes, these are two incredibly genuine people who  bring out the best in each other and are dedicated to doing that every single day.

In the last four years, I’ve watched Eric become self-possessed and confident because he was given the space to do so. In the last six years, I’ve watched Jack grow from a kid with a chip on his shoulder and something to prove to a guy who finally believes that he deserves all the good things the world has given him and then some. If you take nothing else away from this speech, I want you to know this: I’m incredibly proud to call myself a friend to both of them.

Jack, Bits, you’re always gonna be my brothers, my best friends, and two of the finest damn men I’ve ever had the pleasure to know. I wish you both a long and happy marriage. Take care of each other, be good to each other, and never forget where you started—as a team.

So please join me in raising your glasses, everyone, and as they say at Samwell—penitus potes to Jack and Eric!