#but i'm not exactly planning to revisit the story
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
uhuraprime · 10 months ago
Text
Does anyone else have any old fics they wrote like a decade ago that they're not super proud of but also deleting/orphaning them feels... wrong? It's like throwing away your childhood drawings. You might want to look back on it at some point, even if they're 'cringe' to you.
2 notes · View notes
rootedinrevisions · 1 month ago
Text
Friends (with Benefits) Don't: Part 8
Tumblr media
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the final part of this story that I have written (as of right now). I'm going to try to get some of my other WIPs finished and posted but definitely may revisit Jake & Halo down the road because these two were fun to write about!
SUMMARY: After recovering from this mission Jake decides it's time to take Halo on their first date. But it has to be special. Dinner and a movie just won't do.
OTHER PART(S): PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 4 I PART 5 I
PART 6 I PART 7
WORD COUNT: 3.3k
WARNINGS: FLUFF.
TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS BELOW
Jake had been thinking about this date for weeks. It wasn’t just any night out; this was their first real date—one where there weren’t any distractions, hospital beds, or work keeping them apart. He wanted it to be special, but not over the top. Simple, thoughtful, something that showed her how much she meant to him.
He wasn’t exactly known for being the romantic type, but with her, things were different. She made him want to try, to push past his comfort zone and show her how deeply he cared.
Jake sat at the small table in his apartment, a notepad in front of him, scribbling ideas. He knew the usual fancy dinners and upscale restaurants wouldn’t feel like them—too impersonal. He wanted this to be something she’d remember, something with meaning. His eyes flicked to his phone, the picture of her smiling after their impromptu boat ride last week was still his lock screen.
That’s when the idea hit him.
He dialed Penny’s number before he could second-guess it.
“Hey, Penny, I need a favor,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “How would you feel about letting me borrow the boat for the night?”
The conversation with Penny went smoother than expected, and before he knew it, the pieces were falling into place. A sunset sail, a quiet dinner at her favorite beachside spot, and, if he could manage it, a moonlit walk on the beach afterward. It was simple, but it was them.
He made a mental note to keep things low-key with the planning, wanting to surprise her. Jake smiled to himself, imagining her reaction when she saw the boat. He knew she’d be impressed. And if there was one thing Jake liked to do, it was impressing her.
Satisfied with his plan, he sent her a quick message: “Hey, beautiful. Wear something nice tonight. Be ready by 7. And trust me.”
Later that night, Jake could feel his heart pounding a little harder than usual. It wasn’t nerves—he was a fighter pilot, after all—but something about this night made him feel more grounded, more present than usual. This wasn’t just about impressing her; this was about showing her that he was serious, that their relationship wasn’t just about convenience or casual fun. This was real.
By the time 6:45 rolled around, Jake was standing in front of the mirror, straightening his shirt and adjusting his collar for the third time. He smirked at his own reflection, shaking his head. When had he become the guy who fussed over his appearance before a date? Normally a quick glance was all he did and then he was on his way. But with her, it felt important. He wanted to look his best for her, to show her he’d put thought into tonight.
He grabbed the bouquet of flowers from the counter—bright, colorful, and full of life, just like her—and gave himself a quick once-over in the mirror before heading out the door.
The drive to her place was quick, but it gave him time to think, to go over the plan again in his head. He wanted everything to be perfect, and he hoped she’d love the little surprises he had in store. He arrived five minutes early, because showing up late wasn’t an option tonight.
When he pulled up to her apartment, Jake’s heart did an extra flip in his chest. He spotted her silhouette through the window, moving around as she got ready. His stomach fluttered with anticipation as he parked the car and grabbed the flowers.
He took a deep breath and knocked on her door, his fingers tapping nervously against the bouquet. When the door opened, all the jitters melted away. There she stood, looking stunning, her smile lighting up the doorway.
“Hey, darlin’,” Jake said, flashing her a grin. “You look... wow.”
He held out the flowers, watching as her eyes lit up at the sight of them. They weren’t anything too fancy, just a simple bouquet from the supermarket, but the way her face softened when she took them told him everything he needed to know.
“These are beautiful,” she said, taking the flowers from him and inhaling their sweet scent. “Thank you.”
“Not as beautiful as you,” he teased, leaning against the doorframe as she turned to put them in a vase. He watched her for a moment, feeling that familiar warmth in his chest whenever she was near. She moved around the room with a grace that mesmerized him, and he couldn’t help but think how lucky he was to have her in his life.
“Ready to go?” he asked once she had the flowers arranged.
She nodded, grabbing her small bag and stepping out of the apartment. Jake offered her his arm, feeling her fingers loop through his with a sense of ease and comfort that he never wanted to take for granted.
“So,” she started as they headed toward his car, “you’re not going to tell me where we’re going?”
He shook his head, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Nope. You’re just gonna have to trust me.”
She raised an eyebrow but smiled, knowing that whatever he had planned, it would be worth the mystery.
As they pulled up to the marina, the sight of the boat waiting for them caught her eye, and a flicker of surprise crossed her face. Jake grinned at her reaction, parking the car and coming around to open her door.
“You ready?” he asked, offering his hand to help her out.
Her eyes darted from the boat back to him, a mixture of excitement and skepticism playing on her features. “Wait… you’re taking me on a boat?” she asked, biting her lip. “I didn’t even know you could sail.”
He chuckled, brushing off her concern with a wave of his hand. “I had some help,” he admitted, a hint of pride creeping into his voice. “Mav and Penny gave me a few lessons the last couple of weeks. Figured I should learn a thing or two.”
She raised an eyebrow, glancing back at the boat with a slight grin. “And you're sure you’re not just winging it?” she teased, trying to suppress her nerves as he led her down the dock.
“Trust me,” Jake said with a wink, squeezing her hand reassuringly. “I got this.”
When they reached the boat, Jake stepped onto the deck first, offering his hand to her once again. She hesitated for just a second, her eyes scanning the water below them before taking a deep breath and grasping his hand. With a gentle tug, he helped her onto the boat, steadying her as she found her footing.
“There you go, darlin’. Piece of cake,” he said, flashing her that signature confident grin.
She looked around the boat, impressed by how prepared he seemed. It was a calm evening, the sky above streaked with soft hues of orange and pink as the sun began its descent. The water was tranquil, barely a ripple as the boat gently swayed in the marina. Jake moved with ease, untying the ropes and readying the sails like he’d been doing it for years.
The boat began to glide smoothly away from the dock, and as they drifted farther from the shore, the tension she felt about his sailing skills began to melt away. The wind caught the sails, and Jake guided them through the water with confident hands on the helm, his focused expression softening as he glanced over at her.
“You’re really good at this,” she said, her voice full of genuine admiration. “I didn’t know you were hiding this talent.”
Jake laughed, shaking his head. “Guess I’m full of surprises.”
She leaned against the railing, watching the shoreline fade into the distance as the boat cruised farther out. The city’s lights grew faint, leaving only the sound of the water lapping against the boat and the breeze rustling the sails. It was peaceful—an entirely different world from the chaos and noise of everyday life. For the first time in a while, she felt truly relaxed.
Once Jake had guided them to a secluded spot far enough from the shore, he dropped the anchor, letting the boat gently float in place. He turned to her, the soft light from the setting sun casting a warm glow over them. Without a word, he moved toward her, his arm slipping around her waist as he led her to a cushioned spot on the deck. He sat down first, pulling her close until she was nestled against him, her back resting against his chest.
His arms wrapped securely around her, and she felt herself melting into his embrace, her body instinctively relaxing. She let out a quiet sigh of contentment, closing her eyes as the warmth of his body and the gentle rocking of the boat lulled her into a state of calm.
Jake pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, his lips lingering there for a moment. She smiled at the gesture, her heart swelling with affection. Everything about this moment—the boat, the water, the fading sun—felt perfect. But most of all, it was him. It was the way he made her feel safe, cherished, and utterly content.
“You good?” he asked quietly, his voice low and soothing.
“Mhm,” she murmured, tilting her head back slightly so she could meet his eyes. “I’m really good.”
He smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear before leaning down to place another kiss on her forehead.
“I’m glad,” he whispered, his voice carrying a rare tenderness that she’d come to love.
For a long while, they sat there in comfortable silence, just listening to the sound of the water around them. Her eyes fluttered shut again, and she felt the gentle rise and fall of Jake’s chest beneath her. His arms tightened slightly around her, and she couldn’t help but think that this—being in his arms, away from everything else—was exactly where she wanted to be.
As the sky darkened, the stars beginning to peek out one by one, Jake spoke again, his voice rumbling in her ear.
“You know,” he said, his tone playful yet sincere, “I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed anything as much as this.”
She smiled, opening her eyes to look up at him. “I have to admit, I wasn’t sure what to expect when you told me to trust you to plan the date.”
“And now?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Now… I’m really glad I did.”
His smile widened, and he gave her a soft, lingering kiss. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers, their noses brushing as they stayed close, neither of them wanting to break the moment.
“Good,” he said softly. “Because I plan on doing a lot more of this.”
They both laughed quietly, the sound mingling with the gentle splash of the water around them. As the boat rocked them in its gentle rhythm, she closed her eyes once again, allowing herself to fully sink into the warmth of Jake’s embrace. Wrapped in his arms, the world seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of them and the infinite possibilities ahead.
After their peaceful time on the boat, Jake helped her back onto the dock with the same care and confidence he’d shown before. The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky awash in purples and deep blues as they made their way along the beach to her favorite restaurant. Nestled right by the water, the restaurant had an outdoor patio with string lights casting a soft, romantic glow over the tables. It was the perfect spot—casual yet intimate, just like the evening had been so far.
As they approached the entrance, Jake glanced over at her, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Still trust me to make the right calls?" he teased lightly.
She grinned, giving his hand a playful squeeze. "So far, you're doing great, Seresin. Don't get too cocky, though."
He chuckled, guiding her inside, where a hostess greeted them with a friendly smile and led them to a table near the edge of the patio. The sound of the waves was a constant backdrop, soothing and rhythmic, as they sat down and settled in. Jake pulled out her chair, and she couldn’t help but smile at the small chivalrous gesture.
Once they were seated, she looked out at the view, the beach just beyond, with the moon starting to reflect off the water. “You really went all out tonight,” she said, a hint of admiration in her voice.
Jake leaned back in his chair, looking entirely at ease as he smiled at her. “Nothing but the best for you.”
Her cheeks warmed slightly, and she reached for the menu, trying to hide the flutter of butterflies that his simple words caused. As they browsed the menu, Jake snuck glances at her, admiring the way her eyes lit up when she looked over the options. The flickering candlelight between them added a romantic glow to the moment, and it wasn’t long before their waitress came to take their orders.
Once the waitress left, Jake leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table as he looked at her. “You know,” he began, his tone casual yet sincere, “I was thinking earlier... I’m pretty lucky.”
She raised an eyebrow, setting her menu aside. “Oh? How’s that?”
Jake’s gaze softened, and he reached across the table, his fingers lightly brushing hers. “I get to do this with you. I mean, I know I’m a handful sometimes,” he said with a playful smirk, “but you still put up with me.”
Her heart swelled at his words. “You’re not a handful,” she said, smiling warmly. “Well, okay, maybe sometimes.” She laughed softly. “But tonight... this has been perfect, Jake.”
He grinned, obviously pleased with himself. “Good.”
They continued talking, their conversation flowing effortlessly as they discussed everything from their favorite childhood memories to places they wanted to travel. Jake kept the mood light, cracking jokes and teasing her with that signature charm, but every so often, his compliments would slip through, genuine and heartfelt.
“You look amazing tonight, by the way,” he said at one point, his eyes sweeping over her with unmistakable appreciation. “I think I forgot to mention that.”
She blushed, ducking her head slightly. “You didn't, but I’ll let you say it again,” she teased, glancing back up at him. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
“Not so bad?” he echoed, feigning offense as he placed a hand over his heart. “Darlin’, I’m crushed.”
She laughed, reaching out to nudge his hand playfully. “Okay, fine. You look great, Jake.”
“That’s more like it,” he said with a wink, his grin widening as he took another sip of his drink.
Their food arrived not long after, and as they started to eat, the conversation became more thoughtful. Jake asked her about her week, genuinely interested in the small details of her day-to-day life. She found herself opening up more than she expected, telling him about work, her friends, and even the things that had been stressing her out. And the entire time, Jake listened attentively, nodding along and offering reassurances whenever she expressed a worry or frustration.
“You’ve got a lot on your plate,” he remarked after she finished talking about a particularly hectic project. “I don’t know how you manage it all.”
She shrugged, smiling softly. “I guess I just take it one day at a time.”
Jake reached across the table again, his hand resting on top of hers. “Well, if you ever need someone to help take your mind off it... I’m here.”
There was something in the way he said it—sincere and steady—that made her heart skip a beat. She squeezed his hand in response, grateful for his support. “I know. And I really appreciate that, Jake.”
They lingered over dinner, savoring both the food and the company. The beachside restaurant had become more lively as the night progressed, but for the two of them, it felt like they were in their own little world. Jake continued to sprinkle in compliments throughout the meal, each one making her blush or smile. And the way he looked at her—like she was the only person in the room—made her feel more special than she ever had before.
As they finished their meals, Jake leaned back in his chair, gazing out at the ocean for a moment before turning his attention back to her. “There’s one more thing we need to do tonight,” he said, his voice low and soft.
She tilted her head curiously. “What’s that?”
He stood up, offering his hand. “Come take a walk with me.”
She smiled, slipping her hand into his as she stood up. Together, they made their way down to the beach, the soft sand beneath their feet as the gentle sound of the waves filled the air. The moon had risen fully by now, casting a silvery light over the water, and the breeze carried the salty scent of the ocean.
They walked in comfortable silence for a while, her hand still in his as they strolled along the shoreline. Jake squeezed her hand occasionally, glancing over at her with a content smile. She couldn’t help but marvel at how thoughtful he’d been tonight—everything from the boat ride to the dinner to this peaceful walk had been perfectly planned.
“This is nice,” she murmured, breaking the silence. “I’ve always wanted to do this.”
Jake smiled, his eyes soft as he looked at her. “I remember you saying that,” he said, his voice warm. “Figured it was time to make that wish come true.”
She beamed at him, touched by his thoughtfulness. “You’re full of surprises tonight, aren’t you?”
“Maybe I’m just getting started,” he teased, nudging her playfully with his shoulder.
They continued walking until they reached a quieter part of the beach, where Jake suddenly stopped, turning to face her. There was a seriousness in his expression now, though the warmth and affection in his eyes remained.
“I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” he said, his tone shifting.
Her heart skipped a beat, sensing the weight of whatever he was about to say. “What is it?”
Jake took a deep breath, rubbing the back of his neck for a moment before meeting her gaze. “I got my next deployment,” he said, his voice steady. “I’m staying at North Island for at least the next year.”
Her eyes widened in surprise, a rush of emotions flooding her at once—relief, happiness, and excitement all mingling together. “Jake... that’s amazing,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
He smiled, taking a step closer to her. “It means we’ve got time, darlin’. Time to figure this out... you and me. No more rules or boundaries. Just us.”
She felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his words. Without thinking, she threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. Jake wrapped his arms around her in return, holding her close as they stood there, enveloped in each other’s warmth.
As they pulled back slightly, Jake pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, then her nose, before finally capturing her lips in a gentle, lingering kiss. When they broke apart, their foreheads rested together, and the world around them seemed to disappear.
“I’m all in,” Jake whispered, his voice filled with quiet determination.
“So am I,” she whispered back, her heart full.
And in that moment, with the ocean stretching out before them and the stars above, everything felt right. It was just the two of them—together.
160 notes · View notes
pascaloverx · 4 months ago
Text
Moonlight
Summary: You and Edward Cullen used to have a romantic relationship. But fate seemed not to believe in the possibility of a vampire and a potential she-wolf being together. Years after your separation, you return to Forks. Edward is committed to Bella Swan, and Jacob Black has his own pack. What happens when, upon your return, you begin to transform into a she-wolf and both Edward and Jacob seem eager to revisit the past with you?
Author's Note: The characters in this fanfic do not belong to me but to Stephenie Meyer and the Twilight universe. The story blends events that happened in the Twilight saga movies with invented ones. If you're enjoying the fanfic, please interact. This story will contain inappropriate language, a possible love triangle, scenes of violence, and romance. I would appreciate it if those who enjoy the fanfic could leave a comment and like (kudos). Engagement helps me know that there are still people reading. I hope you enjoy this chapter ❤
FIVE SEVEN
Tumblr media Tumblr media
SIX
Edward insisted that you go to his house after you had sex in the car. As you said you would stay by his side in the heat of the romantic moment. It seems stupid now, but it's what you can do now. So at this moment, you are finishing your shower in the bathroom of Edward's almost-suite-like bedroom. He is currently informing his family that you are at their house. Your mind tells you that they will hate your presence, especially after his recent breakup with Bella. That's why, after finishing your shower, your plan is to look for a place to rent.
"You were wrong, they reacted better than you imagined. But they want you to come down for breakfast with them," Edward says, entering the bedroom and then opening the bathroom door, holding a towel for you to dry off. Sometimes you forget that he reads minds. You step out of the bathtub and wrap yourself in the towel. Edward kisses you gently while holding your face with both hands.
"Now try to tell me the truth. Your family doesn't have to force themselves to accept me here just because I'm homeless. I'll rent a place before Rosalie tries to throw me out the window. And I need to talk to Sam. But I can have breakfast with your family as long as none of them pretend to eat food." You say while putting on some clothes, and Edward turns around to give you privacy. When you finish dressing, you kiss Edward on the cheek, and he turns to look at you. Honestly, as he stares at you, a warm feeling of affection fills your heart.
"Don't you want me to go with you? Since you plan to reveal our relationship..." Edward says, holding your waist, and you hug him. Then you lightly slap his head, showing your annoyance at him reading your mind.
"Our agreement about you staying out of my mind still stands. I admit I'm scared of his reaction, but we're all grown-ups. And even though I can't read your mind, I can assure you that I won't run away or be afraid to admit that I feel something for you. Even if it could lead to a significant war between vampires and wolves. And you're definitely not coming with me," you say, laughing a little at Edward's reaction to hearing that he isn't going with you. Holding his hand, you head downstairs to have breakfast with the Cullens. The table is set, and it's clear they went to great lengths to make you feel welcome.
"We didn't know what you like to eat, but Bella used to have pancakes and bacon. Sometimes waffles and scrambled eggs. You're not exactly human, but you probably enjoy the same food she did. I know you two have similar tastes in many things," Rosalie says as you finish coming down the stairs. You look at her, knowing she isn't happy about your presence in her house, but you can't blame her.
"Rosalie, take it easy," Edward says, placing his hand on your shoulder, as if to show he's on your side. You breathe in and out, trying not to get upset. After all, do you really have the right to be upset?
"Edward is right, Rose. We have a guest, and we will treat her well. Y/N, I know you'll forgive Rose for her tone. We're just adjusting to this new situation," Carlisle says with some grace. He’s a good father. It makes you miss your own.
"I'd like to thank all of you for your efforts. But you don’t need to pretend. I know it’s sudden for me to be here; I promise I’ll leave. It’s too soon for us to be in this situation. Too soon for Edward and me to be together, but to be honest, Edward and I have had a relationship. We were secret lovers before he met Bella. That doesn’t justify anything, but perhaps Edward and I feel like we waited too long to be together." You look at all the Cullens in front of you, feeling like you’re making a confession. They seem to understand you, at least a little.
"Dear, I think I speak for everyone here when I say that it’s none of our business. As long as you and Edward are happy, we will support you," Alice says kindly. But you know it’s hard for them to support you both.
"I think it’s too early to talk about support. Not to be rude, Y/N, but just a few weeks ago Edward was ready to marry Bella. You can’t expect…" Jasper says, and you feel guilt washing over you. You’ve spoiled someone’s happy ending. You can't even respond. As the Cullens look at you with a mix of fear and concern, you see Edward wanting to comfort you. But right now, you need to leave this house. You should never have come. You run outside without saying anything more, hearing Alice cursing Jasper while Rosalie takes pride in not being the one to reveal that Edward was going to propose to Bella.
“Y/N, stop. Just listen to me for a moment. Don’t push us away. Don’t use this as an excuse to run from me,” Edward says, trying to stop you from getting into your car. You’re trying not to cry, trying to stay composed. But it feels like you’re back at square one.
“You were going to propose to her. Do you know what that means for us?” you say louder than you intended. Your emotions are overflowing.
“It was before you came back. Before we realized that what we felt before still exists. My decision not to propose was also a way to protect her,” Edward explains. You somewhat understand him, but right now, the anger towards Jacob feels justified. You feel like a terrible person.
“I’m not going to leave you. I’m tired of running, but I need some time. We both need to start over, slowly. I’m going to talk to Sam about us, and in the meantime, try to have a conversation with your family and your ex. But don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” you say, letting the tears roll down your face before going to Edward and giving him a soft, comforting kiss on the lips. Maybe, just maybe, you and he are meant to find a way through this together. After the kiss, you say goodbye to Edward and head towards Uley's house. You know he'll find out your big secret eventually. It’s better that you tell him. As you approach the house, you see Sam and Emily. Immediately, Uley seems to harden his expression when he sees you.
"I never supported your relationship with Jacob, but you’ve definitely managed to get yourself into a worse relationship. You and a monster whose heart doesn’t beat. A damned bloodsucker, a vampire. Do you have any idea what that is? An abominable union. Your father would die if he were here to witness this." Sam is too enraged, but Emily touches his hand lightly as if calming him down.
"We talked about this, Sam. Don’t be rude to her. I’ll make some tea for us," Emily says gently, giving Sam a kiss on the cheek. You watch as Emily leaves you and Sam alone.
"My father died knowing this. Knowing that his daughter fell in love with a cold monster that survives on blood. He found out just before he made me leave Forks. Before he died. He reacted like you, and I was too young to defend myself back then, but I’m not now. I’m not going to lower my head and let you walk all over me. If you want to resolve this, face me. You may have your pack, but you’re still a weak man. You can’t see beyond your own nose. That’s why you’re an imperfect leader." You don’t mince words as you let your anger take over. Sam looks at you almost with disgust now.
"I’m giving you the chance to leave and forget this ridiculous romance of yours. If you continue, I won’t hesitate to end this fairy tale of yours, even if it means hurting you." Sam threatens. You laugh at him, as if his attempt to intimidate you has only amused you, but the truth is, it’s frightening. And in reality, apart from Edward, you don’t think anyone else is on your side right now.
"So it’s pertinent for you to know that she will have the support of my pack. Hurting her means hurting me, Uley," Jacob says, appearing out of nowhere and surprising both you and Sam. He stands beside you, staring down Sam. You wonder how he knew you were talking to Sam or how he arrived so quickly, but it's good to see him there, even if you and he are currently at odds.
TO BE CONTINUED...
68 notes · View notes
bomberqueen17 · 1 year ago
Text
The Witch King
This is not like, a coherent review or anything.
Yesterday I was just like possessed with anxiety nonstop the whole day and everything I did seemed to make it worse and i just like spun my wheels and I got some things done but mostly felt worse and worse and more and more stressed, due partly to external circumstances but largely, i think, to nothing in particular. And finally after dinner I was sitting on the couch comfortably and realized you know what, fuck it, I am not going to "try to write" and wind up refreshing tumblr and chatting on discord all night, not while I'm already fretting and stewing like this, i'm going to be miserable and probably get in a fight or something and i don't want that. Fuck it. So I went to the tab I already had open in my browser, which I'd had open for weeks but the time was never right, and I bought the kindle version of Witch King and read it right there in my browser, the whole way through, did not click away or put it down or move or do anything else, and you know what it was fantastic.
I'd read a preview and been like hm i don't know what this is about and read a couple of amazon reviews that were like this was really confusing, some of which concluded so i didn't like it and some of which concluded so i super liked it, and like, I've been a fan of Martha Wells since she put the Element of Fire up for free chapter by chapter on her Livejournal when the rights reverted to her in like 2006 or so, so I knew what I was going to get and also knew that I would not particularly know exactly what I was going to get until I got it, and I also knew I was going to enjoy the ride, but I hadn't wanted to read it in stolen or exhausted moments lest the "this is confusing" bits prove too much.
In the end I found it not in the slightest bit confusing, it was a very straightforward interspersed flashbacks storytelling technique that i thought suited the story beautifully (not to be spoilery but we join a character in medias res with an action scene and it's him trying to figure out who has betrayed him in a complicated political scenario, and in the process of unspooling this he has to revisit the site of where the complicated political scenario was first set up, some sixty (?) years earlier, so he's retracing his own steps and it's really well done I think, introducing new bits of history right as they're relevant to the current storyline-- and just fantastically done, not at all forced, completely natural and compelling, and no the reader isn't told anything they don't need to know but you do get everthing you need to know, there's no unneccessary coyness at all).
So anyway i loved that, and I hope there's a sequel planned but it stands alone just fine if not, I'm already figuring i'll alternate my rereads and do every other chapter each time, so I can do All The Backstory first, then All The Current Timeline story, and that's such a fun way to eke out many many many rereads of a story that like all of Wells' works I will reread until I have chunks of them memorized (anyone who has read my works surely has found whole undigested bits of hers bobbing around in there because I do this so much; I found the phrase weary past bearing in something of mine the other day and was like oh that's moon when ember first shows up i stole that whole emotion wholesale out of the third raksura book yes i did).
Little side notes: Love the aroace qpr vibes with Kai and Zeide, also sort of enjoy the lowkey genderfuckery that comes with a demon who has his own gender then inhabiting bodies that had different genders. Great magic system too, and I love that we first get introduced to how Kai's pain magic works as a like totally fait accompli chunk of didactic worldbuilding and then in a later chapter we get to see the flashback of him inventing it and understand why it works the way it does, that was also so well-wrapped-up.
Anyway-- Definitely recommend this one but probably it is best if you can do it like I did, in one big binge-read. It took me probably three hours and I was trying hard not to read it too fast.
Yeah. Anyway. People assume I'm a big reader. I was, as a kid. I am not now. This is the first new book I've read since probably the spring sometime. I don't casually read things i only read them if I'm going to add them to my Pantheon of Rereads, and that goes for fic too mostly.
55 notes · View notes
katnissdoesnotfollowback · 8 months ago
Note
Has anyone asked for any proposal details for Break yet? It’s so fun to revisit all of your stories!
Hello, Anon! I'm so sorry it took me this long to get to this one. I've actually had this in my drafts for literally years but it never felt quite right, so I didn't post it. I'm so glad you asked for it, though. It gave me the kick I needed to revisit it and figure out what was wrong. Hope you enjoy! And also, here's a link to the last chapter of Break, since it kind of helps to remember what happened in it for this to make sense.
<3 kdnfb
He thought about doing it on the twenty-third. That’d be exactly four months. July twenty-third. But she’d be expecting that, and a part of him still wants it to be a surprise. Well, not a surprise, but spontaneous. At least seemingly so. Hard to be spontaneous when they not only set a deadline of sorts, but he’s also practiced what he’d say in front of the mirror when she’s not home and has planned the evening nearly to the minute.
Wanting to catch her at least a little unguarded, so he can see her real reaction, he decides to ask her on the twenty-fourth. Just late enough to make her wonder, but not enough to make her think he’s forgotten.
Only, she calls him at work over her lunch break on the twenty-fourth and spends fifteen minutes venting about her boss being an inconsiderate, drunk dickhead. Not keen on the idea of proposing to an angry Katniss, Peeta decides it can wait one more day.
The next day, he leaves work a little early to prepare, but when he walks through the door of their apartment, he’s greeted by laughter. When the door shuts behind him, announcing his presence, Katniss and Prim call out a cheerful greeting to him from the couch before returning to their whatever show they’ve clearly just started to marathon. No big deal. He adjusts, making dinner for the two girls and staying out of their way, keeping a smile on his face and not fretting over the ring still sitting in his bottom drawer, buried under his jeans. He can wait until Prim’s surprise visit is over.
Two days later, when Prim has finally left, Katniss herself delays his plans. He inserts his key when he returns home that afternoon, but before he can turn it, the door flies open and Katniss yanks him into the apartment by his tie. She doesn’t even undress him all the way, just unzips his pants, pushes them and his shorts down enough to free his cock, and shoves him down onto the first chair they come to in their living room. 
“Katniss, what—“ he doesn’t get to finish his question because she climbs on top of him, pulling the skirt of her filmy sundress up as she straddles him. He notices that she’s not wearing any panties. “Holy shit.”
He gasps as he feels her wet lips caressing over his cock. Her mouth descends on his and he grips the arms of the chair for a second, until he can’t keep his hands off her any longer and grips her hips instead, holding her steady as she rocks her body back and forth, coating him with her arousal.
He’s hard in seconds, aroused and dazed enough to go along with it when she sinks down on top of him and starts moving. Slow at first, her knees jutting up and her thighs working hard enough to quiver. He cups her cheek in one hand and kisses her softly, drinking down her throaty moans and gentle sighs.
Peeta’s heart aches with how beautiful she is when she lifts her head and looks down at him, her gray eyes like molten silver, overflowing with love and need. He whispers to her the truth, about how incredible it feels being inside her. Joined to her. Feeling her orgasms unfold around his cock. 
Something he says snaps her loose, though, because she whimpers his name and then bites her lip. Bucks her hips wildly. She curses loudly and digs her nails into his shoulders. She throws her head back on a tortured groan when he slides his thumb down in between her lips until its wet, then drags his touch up to her clit. She comes within minutes, the powerful clench of her walls enough to milk his own release from him. 
When she collapses onto his chest, moaning about how glad she is that their house guest is finally gone, Peeta figures now isn’t the time to propose. Not with his semen and her release mingling together and seeping from her body, soaking his shorts and his suit pants. He probably could, but he wants his proposal to be clear. 
Their relationship may have gone from friendship to sex to love on the surface -- he’d always been in love with her, long before that first game of strip pool -- but he’ll be damned if she has any reason to think he proposed to her because he was stupid with sex.
Besides, Katniss doesn’t seem to notice or care that their arbitrary deadline from their bet over four months ago has come and gone without Peeta asking her to marry him. Not when they spend it naked and grinding against nearly every flat surface and a few not so flat surfaces in their apartment. After that, there’s no chance to propose, since they fall asleep, tangled in sheets and one another’s arms.
But today, he is determined. He’s going to ask her. And hope to everything sacred to them both that she hasn’t changed her mind. She would never have sunk that eight ball if she didn’t want him to ask. It’s part of why he distracted her the night of their game. To give her a way out of her impulsive wager if she wanted it. But she hadn’t. She deliberately walked out the next morning, smirked at him, and took her shot, all but declaring to him that she wanted him to propose to her.
And while Katniss might be many things, he’s never known her to be deliberately cruel. If she wants him to ask, it means she wants to say Yes. Knowing the probable outcome does nothing to soothe his nerves as he leaves work early to get the dinner started. 
He’s just about got everything ready to go, except the flower petals he’d planned on scattering over the floor, when Katniss opens the door and calls out to him that whatever he’s cooking smells amazing. Peeta wipes his palms on his slacks. Well, he thinks, the flower petals would’ve probably been too much. Katniss doesn’t care for ostentatiousness.
“Ready in five minutes,” he tells her as she kisses his cheek and then disappears into their room to change out of her work clothes. While she’s doing that, he serves up the dishes and lights the candles.
When she emerges, dressed in maddeningly short cotton shorts and one of his ratty old college t-shirts, his heart sinks a little and he rethinks his plan. No girl wants to be proposed to in loungewear, do they? She smiles at the setup, the candlelight glinting off her irises, turning them a darker mercury lit from within, and he’s momentarily stunned by how beautiful she is.
“What’s all this for?” she asks, sliding into her seat that he holds out for her at the table and pulling her legs up to cross them on the chair.
“Just because,” he says nonchalantly and sits beside her. He’s not even settled before she’s begun eating, and he smiles at the relish with which she consumes the food. Katniss eating is one of the most pleasurable and erotic things he’s witnessed. The way she savors every bite and moans around both new and favorite flavors alike.
His cock twitches to life, and he flushes, mentally scolding himself for his unchecked lust. But it’s not just lust. They share small glances and talk over the meal. She snorts once when he makes her laugh, claps her hands with glee when he serves dessert, and in the soft glow of the candle light Peeta relaxes. This is who they are, after all, and ratty t-shirt or not, he wants more than anything for his proposal to reflect who they are to each other.
“Katniss,” he says, twining their fingers together when she puts down her fork and licks the last of her dessert from her lips. She lifts his hand to her mouth and kisses his knuckles. The gesture so tender and soft that he’s momentarily rendered speechless.
“Dinner was incredible. You must’ve worked so hard on it. Wait here while I clean up?” she murmurs.
All he can do is nod and let go of her as she stands, gathering both of their plates. She leaves him and as the water starts in the kitchen, he can hear her singing, along with the accompanying clanking of the dishes.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Pull it together,” he berates himself. It still takes him until she’s done to work up the nerve to join her in the kitchen, and he starts talking before he even makes it there. He’s looking down, tugging the ring from his pocket.
“Katniss, there’s something I need to…”
But he trails off when Katniss comes into his line of sight. Kneeling on one knee right in front of him. She’s still wearing her comfortable clothes, but now an almost frightened smile quivers over her lips.
“I know you’re an utter romantic and I’m probably stealing your thunder here, Peeta, but I can’t wait any longer to ask you. And well, this is me after all, right? Impulsive and messy and more likely to propose in my pajamas than in a dress but you love me anyways.”
“Katniss,” he breathes out, his heart pounding so hard, he doesn’t care that he’s stealing his thunder.
“And I know the bet was for you to propose to me, but I need you to know that would’ve asked that day. But I really wanted to cream you in pool again and was definitely willing to play dirty for it.”
He laughs at this and then manages to pull his scrambled brain together.
“I play dirtier.” He holds the ring out in front of her. “Katniss will you marr--”
“Yes!” she shouts elatedly, cutting him off and practically leaping into his arms. He almost drops the ring as he slings his arms around her to catch her. Then she’s laughing and kissing him. “In a hundred different lifetimes, the answer is always ‘Yes,’ Peeta.”
He grins and pulls her mouth down to his, forgetting his carefully planned speech. He guesses he can save it for their vows.
28 notes · View notes
inkedroplets · 5 months ago
Note
🖊 Post a snippet from a current WIP.
🏅 What is something you recently felt proud of in regard to your writing (finished a fic, actually planned for once, etc).
📚 Do you read your own fic?
I'm here to force you to feel proud����
🖊 Post a snippet from a current WIP.
A little snippet from my Peggy Carter fic “Alex doesn’t know that I’m the test subject, does she?” It was even less than a rhetorical question and maybe that was why Fury didn’t seem at all in a hurry to supply her with an answer. “If she did, she would have refused,” Kara reasoned. Even now with their relationship as frosty as it was, Kara was sure of that. A lot may have changed between them, everything may have changed but not that. 
“You lied when you told me that the DEO wanted me to be the one to test the portal between our earths. Why?” “SHIELD and the DEO are collaborating on this endeavor,” he explained, hands folded neatly in front of him. “Which means that what SHIELD wants is what the DEO wants and vice versa.” “Oh that is such a load of—” “But,” he said, hand preemptively raised to her objection. “I neglected to inform Director Danvers about my choice of test subject. Something I plan to rectify when I give her my report.” “She’s not going to like that. Being kept out of the loop…” Who would? she thought and found her thoughts inexorably turn to Lena 
“Oh, I know,” Fury said, sounding wholly unworried. “And I’m sure she won’t have any problem letting me know either. But before you get angrier, maybe you’d like me to handoff the data you gathered before you accidentally crush it.”
Kara let out a loud exhale before she made a show of stowing the drive in one of her pockets instead of handing it over to him. The act didn’t seem to surprise him at all, on the contrary he almost seemed to expect as much because he gave a little nod as he sat up a little straighter in his seat.  “Why me?” Kara asked. “Did you pick my name out of a hat or did you just consider me expendable?
“You were never in that kind of danger,” he explained. For the first time he sounded almost contrite, or maybe more human. “But I will admit that it wasn't exactly risk free either.”
“You didn't want to risk one of your people? Is that it?"
“I thought you were tough enough to weather any possible hiccups in the experiment,” he said as if he hoped Kara would take it as a compliment.
“You don’t have anyone as tough as me on your earth?”
“Oh, I do, but she’s off planet and I know enough not to owe her a favor unless I absolutely need to,” he said smoothly. "You'd like her."
“So I was your only option?” Kara considered this for a brief moment before shaking her head. “No. You knew…” She took a deep breath, hoping that might quell some of the anger she could feel building in her chest. “You knew I would want to see Lena again.” She fully expected him to deny it, hoping that he would try so that she could call him out on it. She waited for his gaze to drop or for his eyes to flick up and away but he did neither.
🏅 What is something you recently felt proud of in regard to your writing (finished a fic, actually planned for once, etc).
I've actually finished a handful of fics recently that I haven't shared yet. They're a bit different than my usual output so I'm going to sit on them a bit but I'm always happy to finish a story even if I don't end up sharing it. One is maybe too angsty to share and the other is a bit smutty so I'm hesitant to share that one as well.
📚 Do you read your own fic? I do read my own fic. I hope that doesn't sound conceited. In all honesty, I am writing for myself. I get an idea that intrigues me and I always love exploring it. But it's usually so specific and out there that I'm shocked whenever someone ends up enjoying it. I like to go back and revisit older fics and I'm almost always pleasantly surprised to find a bit of dialogue or snippet that I really like and ask myself "Did I really write this?" That's fun. There is also the editor in me that eviscerates everything and the urge to edit or change something is hard to ignore. There's always room for another polish, I think.
15 notes · View notes
ineffable-baker-street · 1 year ago
Text
based on david bowie's song 'love you till tuesday, because it is literally them. listen while reading, there's matching lines 🤍
"Just look through your window
look who sits outside
little me is waiting
standing through the night..."
Crowley laid back against the branch he was currently lounging on, continuing to sing softly. Aziraphale was late. Again.
The angel had an annoyingly common habit of showing up late, and considering this had been his idea several hundred years ago, Crowley thought it rather inconsiderate.
Aziraphale had suggested one night back somewhere in the 1500's that they revisit the place in which they'd become cautious acquaintances all those thousands of years ago. For old time's sake.
Technically speaking they weren't exactly allowed in the garden, after the whole Adam and Eve debacle, as well as that nonsense with the flaming sword. However Aziraphale had suggested that, as an Angel, he couldn't really be banished from the most sacred place on earth, and that they were just there to reminisce, nothing devious or anything of the sort. Crowley, delighted by Aziraphale's definitely grey-shaded mischief, and never one to turn down a wicked plan, had promptly agreed.
Therefore, for the sixth time in the last 500 years, Crowley found himself perched on the branch of an apple tree in the centre of the Garden of Eden.
And he was growing steadily more impatient by the minute.
"Crowley? Where are you?" the cautious voice of Aziraphale called out.
Finally.
"Hello... Crowley??" Aziraphale's voice sounded again, closer this time and pitched higher with concern.
Crowley swung his legs over the side and jumped down, landing half a foot in front of Aziraphale, and making him jump just as high.
"Don't be afraid, it's only me," Crowley grinned at the scandalised face of Aziraphale.
"Don't do that Crowley," Aziraphale huffed, breath rather shorter than usual. "You know how I hate to be frightened."
"Oh of course I do Angel," Crowley said, his eyes glinting as he removed his dark glasses. Those eyes, the only permanently serpentine part of him, were always cunning, always up to no good.
"I'm so very sorry I was late," Aziraphale began, accompanied by frantic pacing. "There was a customer in the bookshop who was very persistent, and kept asking all these questions and wanting my best recommendations, oh and! can you believe, they wanted to purchase my original, personally signed copy of Pride and Prejudice. I mean... really?! Have you ever heard such a thing Crowley? Jane hand-delivered that to my door for Heaven's sake, of course it isn't for sale, and then they finally left and I... what?" Aziraphale stopped his pacing as he glanced at Crowley, only to be met with a fond smile he was not the slightest bit accustomed to seeing on the demon's face.
"Oh nothing, carry on," Crowley said, waving a hand and putting his sunglasses back on in a hurry. A not-so-subtle attempt to hide his expression.
"Tell me!"
"It's nothing Aziraphale, continue with your John or Janet or whoever story," Crowley insisted, folding his arms and leaning back against the tree.
"Well now, you know perfectly well it's Jane, and stop trying to distract me," Aziraphale said with a huff. "Now tell me what you were thinking about."
"Oh alright alright!" Crowley pushed off the tree and held his hands up in the air.
Aziraphale waited expectantly.
"It's- it's just that, well, I was, well- I was thinking about that day in the garden. In this garden." Crowley began, and Aziraphale was bewildered at the tightness of his voice.
"Yes?"
"Well just about you... and- and me..."
Oh no. Surely he wasn't doing what Aziraphale thought he was doing. Not here, not right now, he wasn't prepared for this.
"And, well, and, and I- I um- ARGH WHY IS THIS SO HARD?!?"
"What is so hard Crowley??" Aziraphale asked, his own voice now thickening with the onslaught of tears. This was most certainly forbidden, they should not be discussing this. Not now. Not here. Not anywhere, but certainly not in the birthplace of humanity.
"We- we can't..." Aziraphale continued when Crowley didnt speak. "This isn't, we can't, it's not right! I'm an angel, and you're a demon and we can't-"
"I was very lonely till I met you on Sunday," Crowley interrupted, looking through his glasses at Aziraphale.
"You- what? What Sunday?"
"It's a line. From a song. You wouldn't know it, bebop and all that," Crowley said, waving his hand impatiently.
"But I was. Very lonely. Until I met you," he continued haltingly, taking his glasses off again, and looking at Aziraphale, directly into his eyes.
Aziraphale sighed, and covered his face with his hands despairingly. This was forbidden in every book to ever exist in Heaven and Hell, every rule, every warning, they were under no false impressions that a demon and an angel were permitted to fraternise, let alone anything else. And then Aziraphale made his choice.
"Well," Aziraphale began, clasping his hands just below his chin. "I hear the world is supposed to end sometime on a Tuesday, in several billion years," he continued, glancing away and then back at Crowley, trying to disguise the smile that spread across his face.
"Did you- did you just reference my song to me?" Crowley asked, looking inordinately proud. " You did! I thought it was all 'bebop'? What about all your classical rubbish?" he said, smile turning delighted as Aziraphale shuffled and shrugged.
"Well I just thought, couldn't be so bad. If you like it. Though I suppose that would make it just so wouldn't it?" Aziraphale said with a chuckle.
"And you mean that do you?" Crowley asked suddenly, ignoring the joke, desperation coating his voice "What you just said? Do you know what you just said? Because if you don't you better tell me right n-"
"Yes. I know what I said, and I meant what I said. I've always known and I will always mean it, from now until, well, until Tuesday I suppose," Aziraphale grinned, pleased at his joke.
"Oh, shut up," Crowley said, grabbing the collar of Aziraphale's coat and dragging him in, their lips colliding and falling into rhythm with each other. It was like they had been molded at the beginning of time to one day fit together like this. It felt right. Aziraphale sank into the kiss, running his hands across the back of Crowley's jacket and pulling the demon in sharply, drawing him even closer, so close that the two fell back against the sacred tree, breaking apart for a moment of air.
"Maybe I'll stretch it to Wednesday," Crowley grinned, as he tightened his grip on the angel's collar and pulled him back in.
39 notes · View notes
hips-like-battleships · 15 days ago
Text
Second post is my thoughts about the series as a whole, and how Veilguard fits in with the whole. Mostly positive thoughts!
This is for sure a different game than Origins. I love Origins. It is so special and one of my favorite video game experiences of all time. I'm so happy to have had it. I also don't need every game to replicate it exactly to make me happy.
Obviously, that game was special. It's what got us all here! If it didn't have a certain kind of magic, the franchise would have died on the vine. But I don't think the series has to be beholden to Origins as we move through time. I don't think it should be.
People are still stirred up that not that many choices carried over. As someone who has been here since the beginning--I don't really get it. The carry over has always been small. Where does Alistair show up, if he does at all. Whose name is mentioned in a codex. I get loving those characters. I get wanting direct sequels! I'd revisit the characters in a heartbeat. But after this game got cancelled twice, there's just no feasible way to make it a direct sequel. Ten years. A console generation. It's too alienating. The ship sailed. And it is so much more fun to be like, okay, this is the reality, rather than hating it for being something it wasn't going to be. I don't care that the choices matter game to game, I really don't. That doesn't make them matter less to me. I will never forget the first time I played the Landsmeet, agonizing over the right thing to do. I will never forget my first Hawke's arc with Anders--falling in love with him, deciding to support him with his secret plans, then reckoning with the Chantry explosion and all the aftermath. Muddling through messy options with characters I love is Dragon Age to me, and this game gave me that. I guess I honestly don't see how you thread the needle any better. At some point, the alternate world states collapse until you can't tell a compelling narrative. I hear a lot of people complain, but to date I haven't seen a single suggestion of how to actually do it better. There's not a game that has figured this out any better that I know of, on the time scale and complexity with which Dragon Age has been doing it. I also remember very well the way fans have picked apart writing flaws, real and alleged, following every game. Messy writing regarding gender and sexuality has been there from the start (Origins making Morrigan straight, and the weird sexism of DA 2 Anders relationship with F!Hawke v M!Hawke being to early examples). Lore inconsistencies have been here from the beginning (what do Qunari look like? what exactly are the gender and sexual boundaries of Thedas actually?). Some things have been consistently fuzzy in ways that I'm not sure the entire writing/dev team has ever agreed upon (what is a demon vs. what is a spirit? are they two sides of the same thing or fundamentally different entities?). Major plot points have often resolved in ways that don't really satisfy anyone (being forced to fight Merrill's whole clan in DA 2 being a huge example). I am also one hundred percent sympathetic to a dev team in the midst of the Covid crisis and growing right wing movements around the world wanting to make a game about a bunch of people who like each other and who came together to solve a bigger threat. It's the story they wanted to present. That story is valuable. It is comforting to be with these characters who, this time, aren't fighting each other. Who are really supporting each other to be the best versions of themselves. There is a sweetness to Veilguard that I really appreciate. I know it will feel comforting to go back to and revisit over time. Ultimately I don't want the games to be all the same. I like that we have different flavors of story, different companions who relate to each other differently depending on the games. We'd get bored if they were all the same!! And for the parts we don't like, there is fanfic and head canons and theory discussions and all the things we will do to make these texts so much richer. Just because your favorite character from the past doesn't come up in a codex doesn't erase what they meant to you. While Briar is the Inquisitor I imported into Veilguard, somewhere my Inquisitor Adaar and Iron Bull are out there, guiding what Qunari they can away from the Antaam. The Hero of Ferelden didn't get a mention in Veilguard, but that beautiful rosy baby griffon we saved? The wheels in my brain are going overtime figuring out how that griffon makes it to her Warden outpost in Amaranthine, still standing strong against the Blight. Your characters and your ideas get to live in you too.
5 notes · View notes
duplicitywrites · 9 months ago
Note
Thank you so much for replying to my other ask! I completely understand not wanting to revisit a fic you had wrote when you weren't doing the best, and I hope you're feeling better now! 🩷 I adore 'evermore' so much even though it's quite depressing aha 🥲 The way you wrote Harry's mental health and escapism was so good and Id love to hear some spoilers if you were up to it 😅
One thing I love about fanfic is the freedom of it all, and like you said "What is fanfic if not an ode to writing that felt unfinished?". Your interpretation of Harry as an abused child at his core in works like "damaged" always get to me. It always felt weird in the HP book series that Harry had such an awful childhood and was as well adjusted and happy in the future.
Another one of your works I was really interested in is 'perfect boys with their perfect lives', the Harry/Cedric aka a certain dark lord one. It really had me thinking about what could have happened in the graveyard if Harry hadn't escaped 🫣
i am, thanks! it was around covid, which was an awful time for everyone i'm sure, with weird life stuff piled on top of it.
i was going to answer all of the ones you mentioned, but evermore is actually one of few stories i have planned out in detail. this is why it has a planned chapter count (though that hasn't stopped me from going overboard before lol).
i guess i'll just give you the whole thing in case i never finish it kljsdgkljdgs it's pretty long, so under a cut it goes! but first some context for everyone else:
🍃 Evermore
Tags: Alternate Universe, Unhealthy Relationships, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Manipulative Relationship, Infidelity, Past Child Abuse, Dream Sequences, Depression, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Plot Twists, Happy Ending, Surprise Ending, Healing
Summary:
Harry is a married man who is living a charmed life. He has no need for the fantasy potions gifted to him by the Weasley twins—or so he thinks. After falling asleep on the train ride home, Harry dreams of the perfect man, a man named Tom Riddle. As Harry explores his dream life with Tom, he realizes that his actual life is not as charmed as it seems. The pristine image of his faultless marriage shatters, revealing a darker reality, and Tom Riddle becomes an oasis, a sanctuary for Harry to escape to. However, no sanctuary is eternal and no oasis is truly perfect. Harry must eventually confront his demons, inner and outer, before he can find real happiness for himself.
Notes:
these notes are arranged in order from where the most recently posted chapter left off.
there are probably some divergent points that occurred during the actual writing process, but this plan below (i'll admit i'm not quite brave enough to reread it all) is what the general storyline will be.
-
reality four - right where you left me
maybe harry's been harbouring fears of his potions being found? :thots: or his husband's made note of his changes in behaviour, accuses him of not spending time/being devoted
they get into an argument where harry gets a looooot of shit for stuff he doesn't deserve to get shit for, stuff that's not even true
harry yells back but gets hit, idk if by magic or not :thots: and he backs down, distraught. then once he's alone, he goes straight for the dream world
dream four - no body no crime
it'll be a much shorter version obviously, and the character roster won't be the same
i hadn't nailed down the specifics of the background and so i'm not sure how it'll look, exactly
harry is NOT married in this dream, he knows dream-husband but they are only friends
dream-husband is ginny's role in this particular iteration
but the climax of this scene is where harry is snooping around in the house, where he happens upon the dream-husband's diary
he's been looking for evidence to prove the murder
harry reads through the diary
and in the diary are tragic entries describing depressive thoughts, details of emotional (maybe even physical) abuse, etc.
this is a pivotal moment for harry, who up until this moment has been in denial about the failings of his real life marriage
reading this in the framing of it happening to someone else is enough for him to realize that it's wrong
what happens to him is not okay
but of course it's not that easy to just, shrug off years of marriage all at once; harry once again exits the dream, thus ending that particular dream universe
he's partly in denial but it's not as bad as before
he's been using the dreams as a coping mechanism up until this point
i've made it sound kind of frustrating but the dream worlds that harry goes to are meant to be very lush, romanticized
while we realize that harry's dream worlds are not ideal, he doesn't realize it right away
he thinks he's still doing something wrong
reality five - coney island
uh so next is probably another real life scene which shows tension between harry and his husband, only harry is no longer acting the way he did before aka accepting things without question
after the dream, harry starts to... notice things. he picks up on the slights, on the manipulative behaviours. he doesn't argue back for most of it, because he's still figuring it out and he's in shock, but he does start acting differently, which is noted by his husband
it escalates things further, a landslide of 'harry is no longer listening to me, is no longer under my control' type of deal where it results in more attempts to manipulate, which harry now sees is bad
voldemort grew addicted to power, made deals with politicians, gained a following
he looks back on past events and picks out the red flags, realizes that his marriage is not a marriage of equals. but just because harry knows these things, doesn't mean he knows what to do. he goes back to the dream world for comfort/answers
dream five - cowboy like me
this one is 'cowboy like me'
harry is there with his husband staying at a hotel, they happen across dream-husband, who is a con artist attempting to swindle an older woman
either harry is also a con artist in a similar vein, or he is mistaken for one - i'll probably decide once it's written out and i get a sense of the vibe
but he and dream-husband have some interesting conversations, flirting, etc
the theme of this dream i think will be further strengthening the similarities between harry and the dream-husband he's made up in his head
this dream ends with a bittersweet farewell
something along the lines of, despite their attraction for each other, they must part ways? :thots: or some other thing
but there will be a bit of a cheeky 'see you soon'
aka referencing the fact that it's a dream/dream world, that the dream-husband is a recurring character in harry's mental space
reality six - happiness
harry's down to two vials now, the bittersweet farewell of dream five has him realizing that time is running out in the metaphorical sense; we understand that soon he will need to make a choice
i might loop back to infidelity at this point, maybe in an attempt to bring harry to heel, his husband starts flaunting an affair? :thots: cause in the past, flirting with other people probably worked to make harry upset and easily manipulated
but y'know now harry is armed with his brand new knowledge of Marriage Should Not Be Like This and also he's got some shiny self-worth stored up, courtesy of dream-husband
dream six - ivy
in this dream world, harry is married to his current husband, but he is having an affair with the dream-husband; not in the sexual sense, but in the emotional sense. drawing on the dream five, harry is seeking comfort and solace from his bad marriage
this dream is meant to remove more of harry's doubts and encourage him to see that his current situation is bad
and i imagine we start to break through the fourth wall; dream-husband speaks directly to harry, referencing real life events that have occurred
he encourages harry to leave
harry is doubtful, obviously. this is all he's known and he's been gaslighted, manipulated, mistreated
he's terrified he will be found out and punished for it
but the dream-husband reassures him, promises him that things will be okay, etc.
he makes harry promise to take care of himself
and i'm thinking in true romantic sense, maybe they spend the night together? :thots:
reality seven - closure
we solidify that harry deserves better, that what has happened is not his fault, etc all the important, healthy things
we have harry reaching out to the people that have been slowly pushed out of his life (mostly by his husband). he’s reconnecting with them, being healthier, i think this section would end with harry going to ron and hermione and telling them the truth, telling them everything
harry is down to his last vial, so he's been saving it
like, he could obviously go and get more, they would give it to him for free, even, but you know it's kind of like
he shouldn't have to rely on that as a coping mechanism any more
dream seven - evermore
i'm thinking harry goes for one last dream, they sit together outside(?) or somewhere else that has significance for harry
they hold hands, harry talks about how much the support has meant to him, what he's learned about himself, what these dreams have taught him
sometimes things don't work out
he knows he needs to walk out and move on
i'll probably cry writing all this so you know it'll be good
the end - it’s time to go
then like i mentioned before, there will be a scene of harry signing divorce papers. his friends are with him, telling them they support him, and he feels... relief. he feels hope.
the story ends with harry attending a party, this time by his own decision. he's here to genuinely mingle with people, with his friends, and have a good time
and then he sees someone
much like the previous dream, it's someone who he once knew
they talk, they catch up, but this time it doesn't feel odd or uncomfortable
harry feels secure with himself, and we end on the hopeful note that this could go somewhere good
15 notes · View notes
midday-headcanons · 4 months ago
Note
Where exactly can I read your story? I can’t find any links or anything.
Here ya go! If you haven't seen that post already, I will give you a disclaimer:
I am revisiting the older chapters and rewriting them!
I'm not going to change the overall plot of the story, just making necessary edits to things to be more cohesive and legible. I didn't have a plan going into it in the beginning, and taking long hiatuses due to health issues has thrown it off even more. So, hopefully, it will sound better with time.
Have no fear, though! The revised Chapter 4 - Inside Out will be uploaded today!
Stay tuned!
Tumblr media
8 notes · View notes
humankarkat · 8 months ago
Note
PLEASE tell me about the admiral and gallo plain!!!
Oh fuck yes The Admiral has been on my mind a lot lately, thanks to @timmy-jims-and-the-shindills lol
It's an AU I started writing a few years ago that I'm in the process of reworking now. Originally, it was set around the same time as Mando, and the Ghost crew infiltrates an old star destroyer for intel on the rebuilding Empire and run into Lyste, who's now an Admiral. Lyste ends up having a come-to-jesus and finally defects, feeding the Republic intel to help them destabilize whatever efforts the Empire has been making to coalesce.
As it stands now though, especially after Ahsoka came out, I've been wanting to revisit it and adapt a few things. The two biggest changes I've landed on so far is that Lyste is going to be a commander, not an admiral, which I think makes more sense and adds more tension to the story. I've also decided it will be set closer to the fall of the Empire, so probably not long after the destruction of the second Death Star.
It's full of intrigue and espionage and angst and also my silly little Imperial OCs. I just think Lyste deserves more attention, okay??
"Lyste, put the blaster down." Kallus's voice was steady. Diplomatic. "Please." Lyste let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, ‘please’ is the last thing I expected to hear from you!” He was only a few years older than her, Sabine remembered, but he was already going grey around the temples. “After everything you’ve done.” His voice trembled slightly. “After everything you’ve done, how do you honestly expect me to react? Hm? You break into my ship, you kill my men, you threaten my command-” “What the Empire is planning to do with this data is-” “Planning? How could the Empire plan anything like this? We’re defeated! Destroyed, all thanks to you and yours!” “Exactly! The Empire was defeated, yet its remnants still try to wreak havoc on the Galaxy! Lyste, clinging to the past isn’t going to change the fact that-”  “YOU WILL NOT TAKE THIS FROM ME AGAIN!” There was silence between them for a long moment. Lyste’s breathing had become a bit labored. “You left me there. Alone. At his mercy.” His voice was hoarse. “Did you know what they would have done to me if they believed you? Did you care?” This caught Kallus off guard. “I… I hadn’t thought that far at the time, no.” “Of course not,” Lyste whispered. His gaze, and his blaster, fell just a little. “...Of course not.”
The Gallo Plain fic is a silly little thing I started writing last time I rewatched Red vs Blue. The Empire is going through a command overhaul where they're reorganizing a whole bunch of stations all at once, so Kallus gets reassigned to a little base on Lothal for about a week, just while they finish moving everyone around. The problem is that this is a dinky little base in the middle of nowhere that kinda slipped through the Empire's cracks, and the five troopers stationed there are taking full advantage of that by goofing off. Kallus tries to whip them into shape. It doesn't go well. It's an interesting week for him, to say the least.
It stood out against the unmoving yellow grasses of the surrounding plain, its gleaming metal walls blinding in the afternoon sun. Kallus started toward it with sweat already dripping down his back. It was smaller than he expected, actually, just one mid-sized building in the middle of an otherwise empty field, the sharp angles of Imperial architecture a stark contrast to the smooth bluffs around him.  As he approached, he saw a figure outside the main door. One of the troopers, clearly, although he was stripped down to his blacks and… reclining in a lounge chair? Kallus wondered where he even got a lounge chair, and why he was allowed to sit out in plain view, out of uniform, with his hands tucked behind his head and his eyes closed under the obviously non-regulation sunglasses. Kallus made a mental note to issue a formal reprimand and have a stern talk with his CO as he stopped in front of the man, his figure blotting out the sun and casting a shadow over him. “Listen, Jenkins, if I’ve told you once I’ve told you a thousand times. Don’t interrupt me while I’m on watch,” said the trooper, turning his head towards him but keeping his eyes closed. “Got to keep the base secure. Rebels never sleep, you know.”  “It seems you do, however,” growled Kallus.  The trooper’s eyes shot open at the sound of his voice, and he scrambled to sit upright and pulled his sunglasses off. “Oh, karking hells, the ISB! Whatever it is, I didn’t do it. Shavit, I mean– Sorry, sir– Agent, ah, kriff.” Kallus watched coldly as the trooper stood clumsily and brought himself to a sloppy attention, then kicked the chair away in a vain attempt to hide it from view.  “Welcome to Gallo Plain Base, Agent, uh… Kriff, Agent…” “Kallus,” said Kallus, his voice dripping with disdain. “You should have received a formal message from command about my arrival some time ago.” “We did, sir, it’s just…” The trooper cleared his throat, then continued sheepishly, “We thought it was a joke, sir. Or maybe sent to the wrong base by mistake, I dunno. Point is, we um. We didn’t believe you were actually coming.” “Is that so,” said Kallus, the scorn in his voice nearly palpable. “Well, it seems my work here is cut out for me.” He moved past the trooper towards the main entrance. “Gather the men, I’d like to address them,” he said over his shoulder, “And put your armor on, for gods’ sake.”
Thanks for the ask! I'm excited to see where these go eventually, especially the Lyste fic.
7 notes · View notes
leviathanlazarus · 1 year ago
Text
Reaching for Stardust - Part I
Tumblr media
Read Looking for Space here.
Listen to the LFS playlist / RFS playlist (all fic playlists get updated even to this day!!)
Word Count: ~3300
Warnings: none
A/N: Y'all...I'm so happy to be here, immersed in this new series. I began writing this back in April after I, seemingly out of thin air, came up with a foundation that seemed solid enough to even attempt writing a sequel to my beloved LFS. Ever since I finished that fic, I thought that one day, I might return for more. I have a very hard time letting any series go and LFS was truly a momentous project in my life--the fact that so many people have read it and continue to read it brings me so much joy, I can't even tell you.
Having been a fan of GVF for about five years now, I do feel a lot of sentimentality and nostalgia surrounding the band, the music and definitely my own fics, too, particularly all my series. I can still remember exactly where I was and what I was doing when I was mapping out certain pieces of them in my mind. I felt a huge rush of nostalgia recently when I revisited my city's planetarium for a star show, which was a huge source of inspiration for LFS, and I realized that it was literally this same month, August, in 2019 that I was just finishing up the first 8 chapters of LFS, not even planning on making it a 30-something part series (LOL!). You'll see, if you read, that some of these feelings find their way into RFS. This isn't because it's a self-insert fic, rather that's inspired by how much this fandom has seen, experienced and grown over the years. I imagine my friends and readers who were back there in the pre-pandemic GVF era can relate to some level of nostalgia. A big theme in RFS is change. I think we all can absolutely relate to that, too. One thing remains the same though--this is a love story, through and through.
This probably seems like major overkill to introduce fan fiction but this is how I feel. Many of my old GVF friends have moved on in some way or another and I've often felt alone the past few years with still being so tethered to this group of beautiful, silly, fascinating boys that spark so much joy and fantasy for all of us. So, as always, thank you so, so much for reading my fics. I really hope you enjoy
P.S. I am cross-posting to wattpad (comments bring me life!)
---
I was getting lost in the pictures of Alaska–deep, shiny blue water, towering, white-capped mountains, a vivid stream of neon green in the Aurora Borealis, lush green forests. Even enormous, graceful whales surfacing, their tails nearly popping out of my screen as I unconsciously leaned in closer, hovering over my desk. I blinked hard as I turned my attention to the next picture that had been emailed over to me–a huge white ship, lined with windows that seemed endless–and huffed, shifting in my squeaky second-hand office chair. I didn’t even have a true desire to go on a cruise or even go to Alaska, but the neverending research into foreign lands nagged at me, reminded me that it felt like a very a long time since I’d been anywhere new. At least not anywhere exciting, really. 
I grabbed my phone and opened the gallery to scroll through the last trip Josh and I had been on. It’d been a long weekend about nine months prior, which reminded me that it wasn’t all that long ago at all but it still felt like ages since returning to the normalcy of day to day life. It had been a gorgeous summer excursion where we’d had a comfortable, clean hotel room, a warm pool and three nights out all to ourselves, and I found myself yearning for that freedom and escapism again. Plus the sunshine and heat. Michigan winters persisted, long and brutal, and we hadn’t broken through into any real spring weather until just the past week, which had at least given Sam a nice birthday. Josh and Jakes’ birthday was coming up fast. I thought it’d be nice to do something for them, with all of us–go somewhere for real again, all four of us, run amok in a hotel or airbnb. Or just have a nice dinner together followed by bar-hopping. Whatever the twins wanted, really. 
The picture I’d secretly snapped of Josh in our hotel room wandering out of the bathroom completely naked save for a towel twirled around his head came up after a dual selfie of us at the pool and I laughed loudly to myself, throwing my hand to my mouth. I’d nearly forgotten about so many of the little moments. It was so easy to forget when time kept slipping by like the wind, each good moment gone in the blink of an eye and each bad moment suspended in the air until something else came along, and the minutes turned to days and the days turned to weeks and months and before I even knew it, years had gone by and it felt like nothing and everything had changed all at once. 
Next I scrolled to a picture of the best breakfast I’d ever had, this amazing brie-stuffed French toast with a warm berry compote and housemade whipped cream, then the picture of Josh’s breakfast, which had been a skillet full of chorizo, bell peppers, eggs and queso that he’d deemed to be “orgasmic.” My stomach clenched in response and I looked at my phone clock, suddenly eager for dinner once again. My hours were almost up with 5 p.m. creeping on me and my mind turned its attention to Josh and I’s relatively new Friday night ritual–binging on Chinese and watching the most obscure, nonsensical horror movie we could find. With that, I swiveled around to stretch my legs in the sun through the window and pulled up the menu on my phone, trading pictures of Alaskan mountains for pictures of fried dumplings and greasy lo mein; a few seconds later, a very appropriate text popped up:
Hey mama, I’m gonna be a little late tonight. Want me to pick up dinner on the way home?
Yes please. What’s your ETA?
8ish? What’s on the menu tonight?
I’m gonna do the orange chicken and an egg roll. Wanna share some crab rangoon?
yes I do. What about dumplings?
obviously! 
;) see you soon 
I’d need something to hold myself over until Josh got home, though I was glad to have this part of our routine to look forward to. Stability was important and even Josh had come to understand that more and more. I turned my attention back to Alaska, mulling over the images and cycling through words in my head that I could bring to the page and entice people with, as if cruises needed more promotional materials and marketing to bring in profit. They were relatively cheap, all-inclusive and easy for people to handle and reminding myself of this made me bitter all over again–why couldn’t my company make one of their perks a free trip for employees once a year? I didn’t know their exact state of finances but I bet it could be done. They just didn’t want to. And the irony was that they didn’t pay most of their employees enough to take extravagant trips of their own.
Whatever. There were other, more important things I told myself, getting up to stretch and find something from the fridge or snack cupboard. In 32 more minutes I could clock out and put these wild places out of my head for a bit–the weather called for a long walk somewhere.
It was the nicest day we’d had so far, which I fully realized once I was driving and headed out to a familiar, easy forest trail Josh and I often did together on the weekends. But we had a busy weekend coming up, actually. We desperately needed to stock up on groceries–my most recent find of an old packet of peanuts as my last snack was testament to that–and then the boys had a show at Waterstreet. Sunday wouldn’t be as fun–my sister was repainting the entire interior of her new house and had somehow roped Josh and I into helping, in part because we were just that nice, according to Josh anyway, and also because she let each of us pick one color for one room each. Josh had chosen a shade of dusky desert red for the den and I’d chosen something called “spring morning,” a pale lilac, for the powder room, which seemed pretty fitting for the time of year she was making these renovations. 
The trail was bustling, which I wasn’t surprised by, and much of my walk was spent nodding and smiling to other people passing by. The break in weather was infectious for all of us in the area–everyone seemed to be in better moods finally, myself included even despite the gripes I had with work and money and everything else. Sometimes it felt like just yesterday that Josh and I were lying on our backs in the deep black night, gazing up at infinite stars and trying to come up with material for that poetry class that had been the catalyst to bring us together. The warm sun above me while I continued down the dirt path also reminded me of days past, of the first hike Josh and I ever had together when we both stripped down to our feelings, laughed, kissed through sweat, and had decided that was it. We’d made a lot of decisions over the years, so many that I felt like I hadn’t even noticed some of them, but I’d never decided to let fog cloud my memories. I hated that it happened regardless. And sometimes I absolutely hated what changes all the decisions had led to. I wanted to go back in time every once in a while to relive those moments and those days and it made my heart ache to know I couldn’t. Josh would assure me that the future would be just as good–and sometimes even better–than what those memories had to offer. 
And he was often right. Life was good, and I reminded myself of that as I narrowly avoided tripping over an obtuse rock sticking out of the dirt, it was just more challenging now. There was no school to fall back on–I hadn’t realized how much of a safety net that had really been at the time–and less free time. There were more financial worries. More pressures in life. But if nothing else, I had the best people in my life possible; if nothing else, Josh and I were rock solid. He didn’t let a week go by without reminding me that we were soulmates and I agreed wholeheartedly–no matter what might happen, we’d have each other. 
After my walk, I thought about running our necessary errands on my own but ultimately decided that’d be a deviation in routine I didn’t want to make. Josh was the best person to go grocery shopping with, being surprisingly focused and deliberate in his choices. He also was the best at picking out produce, somehow always able to discern which fruit was just the right amount of ripe, and he was good at finding the best deals. He was the coupon cutter, which always made me laugh, and I was the one who followed instinct more than the list we mutually made the day before. I would get caught up in being frivolous, more often than not tossing special treats into the cart that I couldn’t excuse beyond something like, “Come on, you like them too” to which Josh would agree with his cheeky little grin. 
And that same grin was on his face later that night when he came home with the bag bursting with Chinese takeout. His voice and the smell of soy sauce and that syrupy orange stuff made me hop up from the couch, excited for all the things, but mostly him.
Josh gave a little groan as he headed into the kitchen, his backpack still over his shoulders while he carried the white plastic bag in his right hand and his keys in his left. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, shuffling and rustling all the way out of my sight. “Stephanie needed extra time–she’s having trouble with the new cameras. And to be fair, they do have a steep learning curve. You remember how much trouble I had with them last week?” 
I followed him in, taking the bag out of his hand so he could zip back out and discard his keys and backpack. “Which one is Stephanie again? The one who’s obsessed with ‘film noir?’” 
Josh chuckled from beyond the walls before appearing again, pink-cheeked and smiling. “Yeah, that’s her. And that’s another thing–I’m gonna have to review how these cameras even film in black and white because for the life of me I can’t remember right now.” 
“Does she have any movie recs?” I asked as I opened a cupboard to get plates. “We gotta figure out what we’re watching tonight.”
“What about Night of the Reaper? You haven’t seen that one yet.”
“Yeah, but you've seen it,” I replied, wagging a pair of chopsticks at him. “That’s like, cheating. We gotta watch something we both haven’t seen.”
“We’ll find something.” Josh moved in close and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek and my heart fluttered–it always did. “What about you? What’d you get up today in my absence?”
“I went to the Hemlock Trail. It was busy,” I told him while we both plated our respective dishes, my stomach growling. “It was nice though. Looks like we’re gonna have good weather for your birthday.”
“That would be ideal but I’m going to be cautiously optimistic. Last year we had snow, remember?”
“Yeah, like a dusting,” I said with a little laugh, purposefully knocking my hip into his. “I’m gonna be blatantly optimistic and say it’ll be good. And we still gotta figure out what you wanna do.”
“We'll figure it out, my love.” Josh led the way to the living room and sank into the couch which we could have probably done with replacing; he set his can of sparkling water on the end table then grabbed the remote. “I’m so excited for these dumplings. I don’t care if it’s cat food.”
“They do kind of taste like cat food, don’t they?” I concurred, settling down on the other side of the couch. I put my plate on the coffee table in front of us and pulled it closer. 
“They smell like cat food, too,” Josh said, picking a dumpling up between his pair of chopsticks. “I don’t mind. They’re fucking delicious.” 
“I really don’t get how you’ve always known how to use chopsticks,” I remarked, opting for a fork instead to pierce my own dumpling while Josh fished through the cushions for the remote as he chewed. “It’s not fair.”
“I’ve tried to teach you, doll.”
“And I haven’t learned, so either you’re a shit teacher or I’m a shit student.”
Josh laughed and swatted my arm with the remote. “Hush! I’ll have you know that my students love me.”
I nodded, chewing. “So I’m a shitty student after all.”
“You are not. There’s a learning curve to chopsticks too, ya know.” Josh took another bite of his dumpling then leaned forward, peering at the TV. “Okay, so–what’re we watching?”
I followed his scrolling through our shared list of choices while I tackled the orange chicken. “What about that one?” I asked when he paused on the title Devil’s Ground. “It looks pretty obscure. 1983, a director I’ve never heard of, looks grainy and weird.”
“It’s been on our list forever,” Josh said, clicking the play button. “Let’s give it a shot.”
The movie really did turn out to be obscure–the protagonist was a teenage girl who finds an old well in the middle of the woods and climbs down into it, for some reason believing that her missing brother would be down there. Josh and I chided about the already well-known fairytale parallels, except in this movie the girl encountered creatures in the world beyond the well even weirder than those in Alice in Wonderland or Labyrinth, and ended up having to get betrothed to some menacing demon, played by a giant puppet, to save her brother. Then she and her brother kill the demon and find their way out of the strange world and back in their world.
Josh laughed loudly as the movie came to an end. “That was ridiculous. One of the best ones we’ve seen so far.”
“Those puppets were something else,” I commented, watching the credits roll and hoping everyone on that production went on to do better things. “The little blue one with teeth was my favorite.”
“Why didn’t they just get a real actor for the demon?” Josh asked, shaking his head. “Good god. It was a travesty but also kind of brilliant. I could show this to my students to demonstrate the use of close-up shots.”
“The close-up on the puppet demon when he was being slaughtered seemed unnecessary.”
Josh got up and stretched, gathering all of our plates and silverware and his chopsticks. “It really was. You want me to do the dishes?”
I turned the TV off and followed him, carrying in our empty drinks. “I thought another part of our Friday night tradition was saving the dishes for the next day and we can argue about it then.” 
“No argument. You get to do them since I got the food,” Josh said as he set the plates into the sink with a clatter, then pinched my side. “Deal?”
I giggled, shrinking away from his ticklish touch. “Deal.”
“Anyway, my darling,” Josh began to say, twirling away from me and to another kitchen cabinet. I watched, amused at how he always struggled to reach far enough up to get the wine glasses. “There’s a full moon tonight. Let’s go see it.”
“What? There is?” I asked, trying to peek at wherever it may have been through the kitchen window, our third-story apartment giving us a halfway decent view of the sky most of the time. That was one of the few perks of this place–we’d moved in last year, sizing up so I could have my “office” and enough space in general for both of us to not be completely on top of one another–though Josh never complained about that–but the building was old and lacking a number of things, namely outdoor space. Our little balcony was all we had anymore. 
Josh trailed out, wine glasses tinkling in one hand while he held the mostly full bottle of red wine in the other, and I followed again, feeling a sense of eagerness for the night sky which I hadn’t felt in, well, about a month. Our life together was full of tradition, I had come to realize in time, and a viewing party of the full moon whenever possible was certainly one of them. I’d just been too wrapped up in Alaskan cruises to remember this one on the calendar. 
The night air was chilly–a tingle ran down my spine and Josh noticed this as I sat down next to him on the cushioned bench we’d garbage-picked right after moving in. He skillfully and quickly poured each of us wine, set the bottle down and wrapped his free arm around my shoulders, pulling me in close. 
“It’s gorgeous,” he declared, his voice as rich as ever but a softness brushed through those words. I always loved whenever he got so starstruck over something that he couldn’t help but be concise. 
“It really is,” I agreed, pulling my gaze away from Josh’s equally–if not more so–gorgeous face to take in the huge globe of bright cool white above us. “I can’t believe I forgot about it. Sometimes I feel like I don’t even know what planet I’m on.”
Josh laughed, light and affectionate. “You’re on planet earth. It’s disappointing sometimes, I know, but if we weren’t here, I’m not sure we’d be able to see the moon and the stars like this.”
I took a drink, already lulled by Josh’s voice and his warm, strong arm around me. He’d always been strong, considerable muscle secure beneath silky tan skin, but he’d gotten stronger still; the muscles had become even more obvious and I sometimes poked fun, and a little bit of envy, at him for being a “hard-body” because, well, he was. I’d learned to memorize the curves and lines of his body throughout the changes, tracing every plain and valley with my fingers whenever I had the chance.“Probably not, no. We’re really lucky after all, aren’t we?” I said, reaching up to stroke his hand over my shoulder. 
“I think we are. Especially if we can see the stars wherever we go.”
“Speaking of–earlier I was thinking about how it’s been a while since we took a trip anywhere.”
“Yeah? Well, where would you want to go?” Josh asked, bringing his wine to his lips. “Not Alaska, I assume.”
“No, not Alaska. But I don’t know, Josh, I feel like we should go somewhere soon.”
Josh took another drink, looking ahead through the darkness that was interrupted by various porch lights from the other apartments rather than up at the jeweled sky. I’d expected enthusiasm–he’d have more free time soon with the semester coming to an end and I still had a lot of vacation days left, making the whole thing easy in theory–but he was uncharacteristically quiet. 
“What?” I prodded, tugging at his wrist. 
“No, nothing,” he assured me, coming alive again with his body squirming beside me, his hand grabbing mine in reciprocity. “I was just thinking about it. We should both think about it some more.”
I returned my attention back to the moon and the stars and a memory overcame me so viscerally it actually hurt–the abandoned barn, the vast field, the endless sky hanging overhead the two of us. “Alright, let’s think about it,” I concluded, wishing that the place we could travel to was back in time. 
Josh sighed and curled around me. “I feel like a dumpling,” he said, lifting a hand to pat his stomach, and I laughed right into the night along with him.
---
Tagging no one because my list is so outdated that none of those people are even in the fandom or use tumblr anymore LOL please let me know if you'd like to be tagged in this series!
31 notes · View notes
pascaloverx · 4 months ago
Text
Moonlight
Summary: You and Edward Cullen used to have a romantic relationship. But fate seemed not to believe in the possibility of a vampire and a potential she-wolf being together. Years after your separation, you return to Forks. Edward is committed to Bella Swan, and Jacob Black has his own pack. What happens when, upon your return, you begin to transform into a she-wolf and both Edward and Jacob seem eager to revisit the past with you?
Author's Note: The characters in this fanfic do not belong to me but to Stephenie Meyer and the Twilight universe. The story blends events that happened in the Twilight saga movies with invented ones. If you're enjoying the fanfic, please interact. This story will contain inappropriate language, a possible love triangle, scenes of violence, and romance. I would appreciate it if those who enjoy the fanfic could leave a comment and like (kudos). Engagement helps me know that there are still people reading. I hope you enjoy this chapter ❤
SIX EIGHT
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
SEVEN
Before Sam and Jacob could get into a physical fight, you dragged Jacob out of Sam's line of sight. Even though you're mad at Jacob, them fighting would be terrible.
"What exactly was your plan when you told Sam I was in your pack?" you ask while driving Jacob to his house, as he sits impatiently, frustrated that he couldn't fight Uley.
"Well, a thank you would be the right thing for you to say to me. I saved your ass from having to commit to declaring war on Uley's pack when up until now you had no support," Jacob says with a certain arrogance and confidence. After glancing at you, he laughs. You can only imagine that he finds it amusing to irritate you.
"Getting involved in my problems isn't your job, Black. You made it clear you didn’t want me here, so what's the reason for rescuing me? Did you get a guilty conscience after taking Bella's side?" you say while trying to keep your focus on the road. Jacob lets out a loud sigh, then looks at you. You ignore it while driving but can feel his gaze on you.
"I didn't take Bella's side. Or maybe I did. I acted on impulse and took out my frustration on you. But you can't tell me you don't think all this shit is messed up. Before you showed up, Bella told me that Edward wanted to marry her. Maybe even thought about turning her into a cold-skinned monster. Now, not only did he ask for a break from her, but he also brought you into their side. Tell me you wouldn't be pissed if you were in my place?" Jacob says, and you almost understand him. But you're too hurt to be completely sympathetic.
"He didn't take me to their side, Jacob. The truth is, I don't have a side. Because those who should be on my side, for being like me, prefer to make me feel like a mistake. And the Cullens aren't much different. My intention was never to be a problem, but now I want to make my own decisions without thinking about the consequences. I've been pushing Edward away for a long time. Trying not to make anyone unhappy. I've chosen my family over him more than once. Now, the one I always considered family is treating me like a burden. Whether you like it or not, you're also responsible for that. But I'm truly sorry for Bella." You say as you approach the Black house, and when you finally arrive, the tension in your car could not be higher.
"Your life would be simpler if you were with me, you know that, right?" Jacob says, removing his seatbelt and turning in the passenger seat to look at you. You take off your seatbelt as well and turn to look at him. Jacob's hands move to your face as he gently caresses your cheeks.
"It would be. But we could never have a true happy ending if I spent my life thinking about what it would have been like to give Edward a chance. It wouldn't be fair to you. So don't think that I'm choosing Edward; just as he's not choosing me. We're both just trying to level the situation," you say while looking gently into Jacob's eyes. You wish he understood that you don't want to hurt him or Bella.
"This situation seems too painful. And I know Bella will be waiting for Edward at the end of the day, because they love each other. But maybe I'm not waiting for you. In any case, I was serious when I said I want you in my pack. Even if we don't have a romantic relationship, I'm your friend. And you're probably my best friend. That won't change, if it's up to me." Your eyes meet Jacob's as you feel that this conversation has taken a different but appropriate turn.
"I accept. But know that if you ever offend or humiliate me, I'll take you down myself." You try to sound threatening, but Jacob doesn't seem to believe you. He kisses your forehead and then leaves as if there's nothing more to say. As you watch him walk away, you feel that this moment you've shared has brought a new closeness to your relationship.
You drive again to the Cullens' house, this time to inform Edward about meeting with Sam. As you go, you think about where you could spend some time. Then you remember that your old house still exists. Maybe you can stay there if you can handle being haunted by the memories. When you park in front of the Cullens' house, Edward is already waiting for you. He approaches your car and sits in the passenger seat, looking at you. If a look could speak, Edward's would say, "I missed you." You can respond to that because, honestly, you missed him too. You unbuckle your seatbelt and then pull Edward's face toward you. Instantly, your lips meet his. It's a desperate yet calm act as you feel the kiss deepen, Edward's dominance increasing as he gently presses your head against the car door. Your hands slide around his neck, lightly tugging at his hair.
"I'll go with you," Edward whispers against your lips as you break the kiss. You look at him somewhat angrily; he obviously read your mind. But then he gives you a peck on the lips, as if trying to calm you.
"You're going to abandon your home to go to the house of the man who would kill us both if he knew we were together?" you ask, as you move away from Edward a bit. He smiles briefly as he holds your hands gently.
"First, I won't be abandoning my home, just extending it. And your father hated me, but he loved you. If I can keep you company, I think he might tolerate me," Edward says, and you give a weak laugh. Then you remember you need to talk about the conversation with Jacob.
"The conversation with Sam was almost as bad as it could be. And because of that, I ended up agreeing to become a member of Jacob's pack. And you can't react negatively to this news because the other option was going to war with Uley without any support. At least now I have his pack." You say, and Edward seems bothered. He turns to look straight ahead, while you watch him.
"You would never be alone. I will always be with you, you know that. But I understand why you did it, just like I understand that you're upset about earlier today. I think it's still too soon for my family to understand what's going on between us." Edward says, turning back to look at you. You give him a kiss on the cheek for understanding so well. Then you catch a hint of feminine perfume on him.
"Why were you waiting for me out here, Edward?" you ask, staring at him, who seems to be hiding something from you.
"It’s not what you think. Bella is inside. We were trying to put an end to our story peacefully, but my family thought it was a reconciliation and invited her for dinner," Edward says, defending himself, that idiot. You look at him seriously.
"Go back to your dinner, Cullen. I can’t believe you wouldn’t tell me this. I must be a real fool to you." You say, then get out of the car to open the door for Edward. You’re definitely not going to take him with you.
"Y/N, let me explain…" he says, and then you look at him with anger. As if you knew that a little more and you would drag him out of the car, he gets out of the car, facing you.
"Save your explanations for Bella, who’s inside waiting for you. Goodbye, Edward." You say angrily, slamming the car door and then getting into your car to drive away. You don't expect him to say anything, simply driving away at a high speed. All you can think is how pathetic you are. Flashbacks of the recent events play in your mind like a movie. You're so angry that you don't even notice when a person appears in the middle of the road. Your car flips over as you try to swerve to avoid hitting the person in front of you, a pale-skinned red-haired woman. You feel a sharp pain in your stomach, your vision blurring and the sound of a female voice saying, "Tell Edward I said hello." Then everything goes dark as you feel your life slipping away.
55 notes · View notes
yobotica · 19 days ago
Text
Fandom Homework
Idea by @razielim, I like the idea of sitting down and talking about the stuff I want to be working on! Mostly pretty rambly here, so I'll put it all beneath a cut:
It's all gonna be about the WIPs, baby! I think the thing that comes to mind most on 'boy I wish I could finish this' is actually the fallout AU I have for Assassin's Creed. ShaunDes, of course, but I think the ultimate plan was to try for OT3 with Clay on this one. I've never done it, but I get a lot of comments for that on my other fics and I think it would be interesting in this setting if I can make it work. I think the current plan for this one is more a sort of main 'how the group got together' vibe (all the moderns) and then snippets/side stories for some of their adventures. I do have an overall plot involving everyone figuring out who they are, secrets coming to light, etc. I just gotta get it all written is all.
Second is obviously to finish my in progress titanfall fic, which I usually just refer to as Weary, lol. While I've never once really felt pressured that updates are few and far between by comments on AO3, I sometimes regret posting it before it was finished. I never post WIPs as they're worked on because I am the slowest writer - once I get going, I can write pretty fast, it's just the getting started that trips me up. That, and i end up writing a lot of stuff that it turns out, it's not time for, or it's just not right for the story. I think I'm at like, over 15k words discarded for this fic overall, some of which has been repurposed/used already (just later than when it was originally written), but most of which has not. (Yet; I know at least two bits are just too early).
Third is a fic that is almost 10 years old and unfinished. It's only been posted up to chapter 10 on the assassin's creed kinkmeme, the last chapter of which was posted in 2016. It's almost complete, actually, sitting at just under 55.5k words, but I can't quite pin down the ending. Then it needs to be edited. Insert sad-cowboy emoji.
I'd really like to revisit my old DS9 stuff. I never published any of it on AO3 - in fact, I can't even remember if I've published any of it anywhere. It's some of the earliest stuff I've written, and it's pretty rough by my standards, but it's still something I'd like to get some time into and whip up into something readable at some point.
I want to learn how to draw transformers! I've wanted to for a while, but I recently watched Transformers One and it was gorgeous. There's a lot of different styles for the whole franchise, but I like that one a lot. That and Transformers Prime, which I haven't seen yet, lol. I'm a pretty recent fan, to be honest, but me and a friend have spent a lot of time making transformers OCs that I'd love to be able to draw just for fun. (It's the only reason I play Forza Horizon 5 at all, is to make the car forms for those that can be made in that game.)
I'd love to get works written for a few fandoms I've been into for a while, but never written for. Stuff like Dishonored, Legacy of Kain/Soul Reaver, Inception or even Dragon Age. Mostly based on vibes rather than concrete ideas (except for dishonored, which I have exactly one (1) idea that could be used for fic), but still. It's something I'd like to do.
Oh! I need to finish and edit the FFXV fic I have in progress! It could be considered complete enough, to be honest, but it feels incomplete to me for some reason. I wrote up to a certain point, then lost all steam. It's set post Episode Ignis alternate ending, a really, really cute and sweet fic.
I think one thing I'd like to do is maybe just post a collection on AO3 of my WIPs. I don't think of anything I've written as abandoned, even if it's been years since I looked at them, but I also do think some of it was pretty good! I don't know how readers feel about this, though.
I'd like to get more Deus Ex fic written, too. I had a few things perk my interested for kinktober but October was mostly a really shit month for me, so I got no writing done at all. I definitely don't mind using those prompts late or anything, but I still haven't got any creative juice for writing right now, so they're just sitting there, waiting for their time.
I've also had a few ideas that I think I might never write but maybe folks might be interested in hearing about or adopting themselves? Like prompts, maybe. Adoptable fic ideas. Mostly it's stuff I'd love to read but not research to write myself, but that feels a little selfish, lol. But I also just think they're fun to talk about and gush over even if they never actually get written.
I think this was nice to sit down and write out. I don't post very much about myself or my work, but I've enjoyed seeing people talk about things they'd like to get done or things they have in progress and thought I'd share. I'm wishing you all well and hoping you all have something creative you'd like to look forward to doing as well! <3
2 notes · View notes
scarlet--wiccan · 9 months ago
Note
Victoria Montesi is supposedly going to appear in Bloodhunt (a midnight sons mini specifically)
VICKY HIVE RISE UP
I've been enjoying Bryan Hill's Blade series quite a bit, so I'm looking forward to this. I'm surprised he's not more involved in Blood Hunt, since it's, you know, a vampire event, but who knows. They haven't announced the full lineup yet anyways.
This is Vicky's first significant appearance since Carnage (2016). Her role in the Carnage series was really cool, but the story itself contradicts a lot of Chthon and Darkhold-related lore in a way that makes it hard to reconcile with canon, at least for me.
I'm not exactly setting high expectations for a three-issue event tie-in, but I hope this means we'll get a nice update where she is and wha she's been doing since Carnage. I've been hoping for an update on her ever since Wanda took Chthon off the board-- although, ideally, I would have like for the two of them to team up. Wanda's freedom is Victoria's freedom, too, in a lot of ways, and it'd be nice to see them talk about it.
Anyways, I want to know if she's still working with the Children of the Midnight Sun and if they're still tracking down copies of the Darkhold and opposing Chthon/Darkhold cultists. If so, it'd be nice to see Vicky in that position of power, but in story that's more aligned with canon.
I've been revisiting Contest of Chaos, and it kinda feels like the entire point of the series was just to get a version of the Darkhold back out into the world while still allowing Wanda to maintain her new status quo. I don't know what Agatha or her creepy little Darkhold-baby have planned, but if it is bad news, then Vicky would be the perfect hero to oppose them.
7 notes · View notes
susiecarter · 1 year ago
Note
hey susie! hope you're doing well! i've been a little down so i've been re-reading some of my favourite superbat fics of yours for comfort, and got to wondering how on earth do you plot out such long and complex stories? do you hit a word count target daily/weekly or do you just go a little crazy and write 20k over a week?
thanks for all the work you've shared!
Hey, anon! <333 I'm so sorry you've been feeling bleh, but fwiw I can't tell you how wonderful it is to hear that my fic is a bright spot for you when you need one. ;-;! (Obviously I also hope you now feel awesome, continue to feel awesome, and never need to revisit my fic again. :'D BUT IN THE MEANTIME, I appreciate it so much. <3!) And! The answer to your first question is: OUTLINING. It took me a while to figure out that outlining is really important to my process :'D but outlining is REALLY important to my process, and never more so than when I'm working on a long complicated AU of some kind! I do a lot of brainstorming/pre-planning, working out what exactly is going to happen (what the ripple effects of a canon divergence ought to be, what will change AND what won't; exactly how many different characters' POVs need to be in there, and what each of those characters is going to be doing; &c) and what order it's going to happen in ...
... and that process is what allows the answer to your second question to be: when it's time for me to actually start drafting, I ABSOLUTELY go hog-wild and write 20k in a week! Once I've got my outline squared away, when I'm feeling good about a fic and the idea is eating me alive, I top out at a little over 1k an hour. Aaaaaand when I'm not feeling like that, I don't write a single word. /o\
I have a wordcount-tracking spreadsheet that color-codes itself automatically, mostly for my own amusement, and under the cut is a cap of it for this year, January through the end of June.
TADA.
Tumblr media
It's probably pretty easy to tell when I had a deadline approaching or a story to finish :'D and when I didn't, lol. (And you can also tell I tend to burn myself out a little, because after one or two of those purple 8k+ days, there's usually either some blank spaces or some very light green!) I'm trying to get better at writing more consistently instead of accordioning myself like this, but as you can see, a word-heavy May led to a pretty lackluster June, especially toward the end. :D WORK IN PROGRESS.
Anyway, yeah. If you want to know more about my actual process for working out the plot of something, just drop me another ask! <3 And thank you so much not only for the compliments, anon, but also for the excuse to natter on a little. :D <333!
20 notes · View notes