#i did just post a little update last week but you probably missed it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

glossdebut · 3 months ago

Text

Take a Bite Ch. 6

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Your fledgling career as a music journalist is finally going in some kind of direction that must be on the path to success. Your coworkers like you enough to invite you out on Fridays, your boss is starting to think you’re competent enough to let you score a few bylines, and you’re finally getting the hang of InDesign. All of your hard work, late nights, and complete lack of a social life are starting to pay off… Even if it all came at the expense of the longest relationship of your life. Fine. You’ve accepted the fact that romance isn’t for you, under any circumstances. You won’t risk your career for anybody. Not even Min Yoongi.

✧ TAGS: slow burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, producer yoongi, music journalist reader, neighbors to friends to lovers? you’ll see, reader is bad at feelings, reader is post-break up

✧ WARNINGS: um... CLIFFHANGER?

✧ WORDCOUNT: 5.4k

✧ STATUS: complete

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: chapter 6 is here early!!! holy shit. this is the second to last chapter of take a bite, so next week's update will wrap everything up! i don't want to give too much away about what happens in this one, but just for reference... um. P.S. i'm sorry in advance. P.P.S. thank you so much tanni @love4myg for beta reading this chapter for me! you saved my wordy ass from publishing so many run-on sentences.

Chapter 6: Y’all Ain’t Never Been To A Party Before?

“Y/N, YOU WHORE!”

So, many things are happening. Holy shit.

First, to your surprise, midnight kimchijeon with Yoongi last night very quickly devolved into more sex.

You had been a little bit anxious while you watched him cook, and even more anxious while you both ate in relative silence, that the weirdness coming off of Yoongi in waves at the mention of Yijeong had effectively killed the vibe. Thankfully, being bent over his kitchen counter and fucked into oblivion did wonders to kill that worry before it fully took root.

It was… You’ve never been fucked quite like that before. Practically drooling onto the marble beneath you as he pounded into you, his hands gripping at your ass, his gravelly voice in your ear, growling “thank me again. You wanna come? Thank me for fucking you like this, come on, show me how much you fucking like it,” and you did. Fuck, he was mean, but you liked it, you liked it so much.

For somebody who very openly prefers to remain completely stationary (and horizontal, if he can help it), Yoongi sure has a fuckton of stamina. So… score.

Second, due to said stamina and your resulting exhaustion following round two, you ended up staying over at Yoongi’s apartment last night. Which was not the plan originally, but both you and Yoongi were unconvinced that you could safely make the journey down the hall back to your own apartment. When the opportunity to crash on a purple mattress presented itself so enticingly, you were powerless to resist.

You both fell asleep very tired and very unclothed, the latter of which probably would’ve resulted in even more sex come morning—sex you were very much looking forward to—if you hadn’t awoken to approximately seven trillion notifications on your phone from Rina, scaring the absolute piss out of you and forcing you to leave a very confused Yoongi to deal with his morning wood all by his lonesome.

It’s around eleven in the morning, the latest you’ve slept in months, when you roll into your own apartment, sleep-mussed and fucked out.

Which brings you to the third thing.

Rina is here. Like, here. In your apartment. Not in Paris.

Breaking the sound barrier with her excitement as she looks you up and down, in all of your walk-of-shame glory.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, your voice still scratchy with sleep. You toss your keys on the closest flat surface to give Rina a very confused hug. You missed her, of course. Terribly so, and that outweighs anything else. But also, what?

“What weren’t you doing here?” Rina quips, squeezing you tight in return. “And please tell me the answer is Yoongi.”

It dawns on you that you and Rina haven’t really spoken since you actually went through with everything, being in different time zones and all. ‘Yoongi invited me to his studio where he produces music and then made me come with his tongue so hard I almost died’ didn’t seem like an announcement to be made over text.

“I don’t think that makes sense,” you mumble into her shoulder before pulling away, sheepish. “But yes, I was at Yoongi’s.”

“Slut,” Rina squeals, her hands latching onto your shoulders and shaking you. “I need to meet him.”

Oh, fuck.

Your eyes widen instantly, slight panic overtaking you as you glance back at your door. You know Rina, and you know that she is not above striding over to Yoongi’s apartment right now and getting a good eyeful for herself.

“Oh my god, Rina, no.” You grab Rina’s hands firmly, pleading. “He’s barely even awake. I promise I’ll tell you every last detail if you don’t do that, holy shit.”

She laughs, pulling her hands away to cross her arms, raising an expectant eyebrow at you. “I’m waiting.”

You sigh, trudging into your kitchen to start a pot of coffee, since you’re clearly going to need it.

“Tell me why you’re in my apartment first,” you say, fishing two mugs out of a cabinet and setting them on the counter. “Not that I mind, but… Paris?”

After the coffee is brewed and doled out, you both move to your couch for a much-needed debriefing of the past few weeks.

Over your steaming mugs, Rina explains to you that she has come to the liberating realization that the show will in fact go on without her.

Her stint in Paris, as fun and fabulous as it was, also made her lonely, and once she was confident the theatre company she was collaborating with would do her work justice without her helicoptering over them, Rina immediately booked the first flight to you.

She plans to stick around for an undetermined period of time, as long as you’ll have her, if you’re okay with that—duh, you tell her with a flick to the forehead—and then go home to her boyfriend for a much-needed hiatus from theatre.

Rina tells you everything about Paris: the sightseeing, the shopping. Her show, the reaction it garnered. In return, you give her all of the gory details about Yoongi. All of them, because she’ll sense it if you leave anything out.

You tell her about the night in his studio, how you deliberated and deliberated until you finally gave in, and how you were rewarded with Yoongi’s head between your thighs, eating you out like a man starved.

You tell her about the horribly inappropriate and ridiculously hot sexting that took place in your open floor plan office, how he described in detail what he was going to do to you when he finally got the chance. You hand your phone over without a fight when she demands to read the messages herself, staring down into your mug as she screeches with delight while reading.

You tell her about last night, how Yoongi made good on all of his promises and then some. How he took his time learning the cues of your body. And about the kimchijeon, because it’s really unfair that Yoongi seems to be good at everything.

Rina whistles lowly, raising an eyebrow at you as she takes a long sip of her coffee.

“Okay, I really need to meet him now,” she says.

“There was a weird moment,” you lament, sinking into the couch. “I might be overthinking—”

“Most likely—”

“But, there was definitely a moment,” you continue, firm. You know what you saw. “I got this killer opportunity at work to write about this producer, and Yoongi knows him, so I asked him to put in a good word for me, and he, like, froze up for a second. I don’t know.”

“Was that before or after he fucked your brains out?”

You snort, mumbling into your coffee as you go for a sip. “Between.”

“Okay, so, he’s probably over it if he went back for seconds,” Rina reasons, shrugging. “Why don’t you just ask him about it?”

You shake your head. “If he’s moved past it, I don’t want to bring it up again and risk popping the sex bubble we’re in,” you say. “You’re right, I’m probably overthinking. Yoongi’s Yoongi. He would’ve said no if he really wasn’t cool with it.”

Rina hums, nodding sagely. “Don’t pop the sex bubble,” she agrees. “It’s your job, anyway. Using your connections. I’m sure he’s dealt with reporters before, being who he is. He probably gets it.”

Your phone buzzes, and you set your mug down to fish it out from between the couch cushions. “Yeah.”

Speak of the devil.

Once you grab hold of your phone, you’re greeted with a text from Yoongi. It seems he’s been busy since your abrupt departure.

[11:58] Yoongi: Spoke to Yijeong. He’s going to be at a label party tonight and he’s down to meet you if you’ll go. I’ll take you.

And then, another.

[11:58] Yoongi: Kind of a fancy thing, though. Cocktail attire. Lmk.

Normally you’d dread everything he’s proposing—uncomfortable shoes at a party where you don’t know a soul wouldn’t be your first choice for a Saturday night—but you find yourself biting your lip to mask the stupid grin forming on your face. You’re getting your interview and there’s a high possibility you’ll get to see Yoongi in a suit? Everything’s coming up Y/N.

You lift your gaze from your phone to Rina, who looks at you expectantly.

“Bring any dresses back with you from Paris?”

★ ★ ★

When Yoongi swings by to pick you up hours later, you’re more than a little grateful you share a dress size with your best friend.

Rina did, in fact, bring dresses back with her from Paris, and the second this particular one slipped onto your body she had no choice but to declare that it was yours.

It’s just your style—black, simple, form-fitting enough that you look fucking good in it, but long enough to wear to what is essentially a work event. Lace detailing on the bodice. A teasing slit up the side. And it’s from Paris, and while you don’t particularly love the French for much, they can make a damn garment. Yeah, you want to be buried in this dress.

Yoongi leans against the door jamb, not the slightest bit subtle as his eyes rake over you. You smirk to yourself as you bend down to get your heels on.

“Pretty dress,” he says, though his tone does little to mask what he’s really thinking. Fuck the party. Under any other circumstances, you’d agree, but duty calls.

“It’s hers,” you say, standing upright and jerking your chin back in Rina’s direction. Rina, who is lingering in your kitchen, very obviously exercising all of her restraint not to crowd Yoongi right now and inspect him like a toy.

“It’s yours,” she corrects, gritting the words out. Good thing you made her promise to be normal.

You take a moment to look at Yoongi, who, to your delight, is wearing a suit. Black, like your dress. What a pair the two of you make.

“You clean up nice,” you say, drinking in the sight of him just as shamelessly as he did to you. Letting your eyes speak for you.

The suit is simple, also like your dress, but the long lines accentuate his legs, making him look taller. Crisp white shirt. Black tie. Hair styled out of his face. He looks good, and he knows it. You can tell in the way he’s carrying himself.

Yoongi hums, smirking. “So I’ve heard.” He glances behind you, at Rina, and then back at you. “The playwright? Rina?”

You nod, surprised that he was able to recall her name.

He looks back at Rina, smiling at her. “How was Paris?”

The memory on this man.

“Great,” Rina says tightly. You’re almost proud of her.

“I’m Yoongi,” he says, eyebrow raising at the weird tension wafting from your kitchen.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” she says emphatically, and you snort.

“Ah.” You note that the tips of Yoongi’s ears are pink. Yours would be too, if you were in a room with two people who discussed the way you fuck in-depth. “Good things, I hope.”

“Ready to go?” you chirp as you grab your bag, taking pity on Rina. Any more and she’ll snap, you’re sure of it.

Yoongi nods and steps back into the hallway, allowing you to slip out the door.

“Nice to meet you,” he calls to Rina as you shut the door, and then you’re both moving.

★ ★ ★

The ride to the party itself is uneventful. Although you’re giddy at the confirmation that the sex bubble has indeed remained unpopped, the second you’re seated in Yoongi’s car you shift into work mode.

The tiny notepad you’d stuffed in your bag is now clutched in your hand, and the near silence in the car is only interrupted with the occasional question or clarification on something you’ve jotted down in your research on Yijeong. Yoongi answers to the best of his knowledge, supplementing where he can, but it’s clear you’ve done your due diligence. You’re ready.

Yoongi’s car comes to a crawl, and you peer out the window at the outrageous mansion he’s brought you to. You’d barely been paying attention when he’d stopped at the gate to give his name for entry, but now that you’re here, you’re struck by the luxury that awaits you on the other side of the passenger door.

A huge, freshly manicured lawn. Equally manicured shrubbery. A neon-lit fountain in the middle of the driveway, right in front of the imposing entryway to the biggest house you’ve ever seen in person. Modern, sleek architecture composing the monolith before you.

Yoongi hops out of the car to walk around to the passenger side and open the door for you. He helps you out, steadying you as your heels connect with the gravel beneath you.

The house is clearly bustling with people, music seeping out into the night as partygoers filter in and out, as others gather on the balconies (plural!) for cigarettes.

“Whose party is this?” you ask, amazed as Yoongi hands his keys off to the valet—a valet, at somebody’s home.

“Bang Si-Hyuk,” Yoongi says as he watches his car depart without him, clearly not sharing your amazement. Right, you remind yourself. He’s used to this kind of thing. You, however, feel horribly out of your element, even in your Parisian dress.

He offers you his arm and you take it, staring down at your feet as you walk through the gravel so as not to twist your ankle. You can do this. Networking opportunities galore.

The doors to Bang Si-Hyuk’s mansion are opened for the both of you by the two men flanking it, revealing the party unfolding inside. You gawk, clutching your bag and the notebook inside of it, as Yoongi takes your free hand. He gives it a small squeeze before guiding you past the foyer, past clusters of celebrities and executives, caterers balancing trays of tiny hors d'oeuvres, all the way to the bar.

When prompted, Yoongi, predictably, orders an old fashioned. You opt for a vodka martini, something to quell the nerves mounting inside of you. You’ve come a long way from plastic cups of cheap beer at a Western bar, it seems.

The bartender procures your drinks, sliding them over to the both of you on cocktail napkins, and Yoongi clinks his glass against yours.

“You look like you’re going to shit yourself,” he says, grinning into his glass and taking a swig.

“I hate you,” you mumble in kind, letting the vodka warm your throat as you take a sip of your own. “Remind me again why you live in our apartment complex?”

“Because I’m not Bang Si-Hyuk,” he says simply, setting his drink down as a woman with long, sleek hair in a slinky dress approaches the both of you, though her eyes are focused on Yoongi.

She’s gorgeous. You recognize her, but your memory fails you as you come up short on her name.

“Min Yoongi, as I live and breathe,” she says with a dazzling grin as Yoongi extends his arm out to clasp her hand. She takes hold of his easily and doesn’t let go as she continues speaking in a familiar tone. Hm. “What a surprise.”

“Noona,” Yoongi says, mouth quirking up at the corners as he turns his head to you, his hand still clasped in hers. “Y/N, this is Shin Suran.”

Suran like the singer, your brain helpfully pieces together. You’ve heard her songs on the radio before, read about her in Look Here long before you started. She had a single years back that charted like crazy, a single that you personally own. She’s done a song with Dean before. And she seems to know Yoongi very well, based on the way she’s still touching him. Something stirs in your gut.

Suran’s attention finally turns towards you, her hand leaving Yoongi’s at last as she reaches out to shake yours. You set your glass down on the bar behind you, wipe the condensation off on your dress as discreetly as you can.

“Y/N,” she says, tilting her head at you as you take her offered hand and shake. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

“You as well. I loved ‘Wine,’” you respond, politely extricating your hand to pick up your glass and take another sip of your drink. It’s true, you did love ‘Wine’ when it came out, and despite your distaste for this interaction in general, Suran is supremely talented, there’s no denying it. Not to mention a potential connection for you, thanks to Yoongi.

Suran laughs, her eyes crinkling in the corners. “I appreciate that,” she says warmly before glancing at Yoongi. “Although, that song wouldn’t have existed if it weren’t for Yoongi-yah.”

…Huh?

It clicks then, your brain coming online in an instant.

Yoongi, your Yoongi—the one who lives down the hall from you, who sends you cat videos while you’re at work, who calls you baby when he fucks you—is Suga. 2017 Hot Trend Award winner Suga. Over one hundred KOMCA credits to his name Suga. That he’s not just your Yoongi, but very likely one of the most famous people in this room. That he might’ve been Suran’s Yoongi, too, at one point.

You’d known that he was famous, sure. You’d been to his studio, seen the awards on the wall, although you’d been to preoccupied with wanting to fuck him to actually read them. His studio setup alone told you that he had money, not to mention the paid driver he sent you, the small flashes of luxury in his otherwise humble apartment. But this…

You realize, to add insult to injury, that the song filtering through the speakers right now is his.

“Noona,” Yoongi says, his eyes locked on you as he speaks, although you sure as hell aren’t his noona. “We’ll catch up with you later.”

You barely catch their goodbyes, picking up your martini to stare into as Suran departs.

“Y/N,” Yoongi says softly.

“You didn’t tell me you were Suga.”

The name feels weighty on your tongue. You don’t know why it bothers you so much, that you didn’t know. That he didn’t tell you outright. But it does.

Yoongi shifts from one foot to the other awkwardly, his body stiff next to yours.

“You didn’t ask,” he mumbles. “It’s not like I was hiding it from you.”

“Seems like the kind of thing to lead with,” you mumble back, taking a long swig, letting the alcohol burn on its way down.

“Yeah, I don’t make a habit of doing that,” he says. You lift your head to look at him at the bitter tone in his voice, trying to decipher the look on his face, but you’re at a loss. You’re beginning to realize just how little you know about your neighbor. Your friend. Your… Well, he’s more than that now, isn’t he?

How many details about Yoongi have you let slip from your memory, while he seems to hold on to every little thing he learns about you?

He polishes off his drink and sets his glass down, pulling his phone from his back pocket to send off a text, not looking up from the screen as he speaks. “Ready to meet Yijeong?”

You sigh, suddenly right back where you were last night when you asked him about Yijeong in the first place, but you nod. “Yeah.”

At the responding buzz, Yoongi pockets his phone and wordlessly leads you through the party. You ignore the way your hand in his feels more like a necessary evil this time around.

★ ★ ★

Jang Yijeong is remarkably handsome, tall and lithe in his suit as he puffs on a cigarette. Meeting him isn’t nearly as nerve wracking as you’d thought, although you’re sure you have Yoongi to thank for that.

As soon as you step foot on the balcony, your brain shifts back into work mode with little effort. You watch as Yoongi and Yijeong greet each other with a hug, which you didn’t expect, and they immediately fall into a rapport that can only come from years of familiarity. Yoongi said he knew Yijeong, but he conveniently left out the fact that they’re, like, besties or something. They’re getting a little annoying, these omissions of Yoongi’s.

Mercifully, Yoongi seems eager to get out of your way as soon as possible. According to Yijeong, he and Yoongi have been working closely for the past month, so he’s kind of sick of looking at his face anyway.

After a muttered, almost fond ‘go fuck yourself’ from Yoongi, he’s leaving you in Yijeong’s care, both of you sitting on the patio furniture kindly provided by Bang Si-Hyuk on the balcony.

“So,” your interviewee starts, taking a drag from his cigarette. “You must be pretty special, getting Yoongi-yah to make an appearance at one of these things.” He gestures at the fanfare through the balcony doors with his free hand.

“I’m not here to talk about me,” you say shyly, balancing your notepad on your knee as you set your phone to record and slide it onto the table between you, next to an ornate ashtray. “I’m here to talk about you.”

“Very nice,” Yijeong hums, amused. “I’m serious, though. I’ve been going to these since I debuted. Album release parties, award ceremonies, anything I could get an invite to. But I haven’t seen Yoongi at one in years. He hates this shit.”

“When I made the switch to producing, I practically begged him to come out of hiding and be my plus-one. He’s been producing for way longer. He knows the people at these things, knows how to work them if he has to,” he continues. “Yoongi and I have been friends for a long time. He’s practically my brother. But I couldn’t get him to say yes.”

Nothing about that tracks. Yoongi and Yijeong, if your math is mathing correctly, have known each other for the better part of a decade. You’ve only known Yoongi for a month and a half. If he’s as much of a hermit as Yijeong insists, why would he do this for you if Yijeong couldn’t get him to budge?

You think about Suran and how surprised she seemed to see Yoongi. You think about the text you got this afternoon, how he didn’t give any indication that going to this party was outside of his comfort zone. Another omission, except this time you don’t feel annoyance, but something else entirely. Something you don’t dare name. You shift in your seat.

“I’m just saying,” he says warmly, ashing his cigarette in the tray between you, meeting your eyes. “You must be special.”

You don’t know what to say in response, and you know it shows. Yijeong laughs at whatever expression he finds on your face, warmth blooming in your cheeks as your eyes burn holes in the notepad on your knee.

“Okay, okay,” he says, grinning and raising his hands up in surrender. “Do your worst. It’s been a few years since I’ve done this, so I might be a little rusty. But for you, mystery girl, I’m an open book.”

Yijeong speaks to you like an old friend. He tells you about how he fell in love with singing in the fourth grade, when he sang ‘Azalea’ by Maya in front of the eommas and appas of his peers and got a taste of what it’s like to sing for an audience. He opens up to you about losing control of his own voice during his career as an idol, how he didn’t know what was wrong, was wracked with fear over it.

He tells you about becoming friends with Yoongi, about being taken under his wing to learn a whole new skill and take a new direction with his career. How Yoongi opened a door for him that he didn’t even know existed. You learn that Yijeong has been collaborating with Yoongi for years now without drawing too much attention to it, but now that he can stand alone, he’s ready to step back into the limelight as EL CAPITXN.

You get so enraptured in the conversation, dutifully scribbling notes and asking follow-up questions, that you barely notice that over half an hour has passed by.

“Y/N,” Yijeong says, smiling at you as he wraps up his answer to your last question. You don’t know how to explain it, but it makes so much sense to you that this man is Yoongi’s friend. Maybe it’s the warmth in his voice. “You should probably go rescue Yoongi-yah from those leeches inside.”

“Yeah,” you agree, biting back a smile at the thought of Yoongi braving rookie idols and sleazy executives, trying to find a wall to hug while he waits. For you. He’s doing this for your career, for you. “It was lovely to meet you, Yijeong.”

“The pleasure was all mine,” Yijeong insists, watching you knowingly as you pack up your notepad and pen, moving to stand. “Y/N-ah,” he calls, making you pause at the balcony door. “Treat him well, okay?”

Something that you’ve been ignoring for a long time unfurls in your chest.

“I will,” you promise softly.

You push the balcony door open, your heartbeat thrumming in your ears as you make your way back to the bar. You will rescue Yoongi, want nothing more than to be with him again, but you need the liquid courage now more than ever.

Here’s what you know: You have spent the last three years terrified of falling. Starving yourself from the full breadth of friendship, of intimacy, of love, because of what happened the last time you let yourself have it. You’ve convinced yourself that any man that claims interest in you would do the same in the long run, that being career-driven is a deterrent to love and nobody will ever accept you for who you are.

But you also know this: Yoongi sees you. He understands you. Unlike your ex, he doesn’t feel hurt when you disappear for days on end, lost in your work, because he’s very likely doing the same. And yet he still finds time to read everything that gets published under your name. He offers his studio as a safe haven for you to write when the words stop flowing in your own office. He goes to parties he’d normally rather die than attend just so you can get an interview, because it’s important to you.

You don’t want to starve anymore. Min Yoongi has been staring you in the face for the past month and a half, offering you everything you’ve been scared of since your ex left you three years ago, all alone in a strange city. Offering you all of his support and kindness and closeness like a filling meal. And for the first time in a very long time, you want to try and take a bite.

Terrifyingly, you really, really fucking like him. Not just as a friend.

You finish your martini quickly before weaving through the crowd to find Yoongi. And you do, leaning against the furthest wall. Drink in hand, just like the night you met.

When you approach, he lifts his head and your heart soars when your eyes meet.

“Ready to go?” he asks, none the wiser to your sudden change of heart.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Yeah, let’s go.”

★ ★ ★

You barely make it into your shared hallway before you’re on Yoongi, your body pressing against his and your arms looped around his neck as you pull him into a searing kiss. He tastes like whiskey, and normally you’d hate that, but it tastes all the more sweet because it’s on Yoongi’s lips.

It’s so different, now that you’re allowing yourself to really feel it. You fit together so perfectly. His lips feel so right on yours. How could you have been so blind before?

You expect Yoongi to press you against the wall, or slide his hands up the skirt of your dress, or groan your name into your mouth like he can’t get enough of you. You know you can’t get enough of him. In his suit, waiting to be unwrapped like a present.

You want Yoongi to do those things, desperately. You want to pay attention properly this time, you want not to shy away from the intimacy of it all. You want whispered praise in your ear, eye contact while he fucks you, his lips on yours and his stilted moan as he spills inside of you. You want the softness that comes after, for him to clean you up with care and wrap you in his arms. You want to sleep in his bed for a reason other than exhaustion.

But instead, Yoongi pulls away, grasping your shoulders gently as he creates distance between you. You look up at him, confused.

“Rina’s probably waiting for you,” he says.

“I promise you, she’s not,” you snort. Rina knows better than to expect you home before morning at the earliest. You surge forward, leaning up to chase his lips again, but he remains out of reach.

“Y/N…” Conflicted.

Right. Of course, duh! You’re getting ahead of yourself.

You forgot, in the haze of your epiphany, that your last conversation with Yoongi didn’t exactly bode well for your sex bubble. You need to set the record straight, then.

“Yoongi, if this is about earlier… the Suga thing,” you start, leaning in to pepper kisses down his neck, your fingers coming up to fiddle with his tie, loosening it. “I’m not mad, okay?”

Yoongi shakes his head, running his hand through his hair. “No, I just…” He trails off, sighing. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, Y/N. The friends with benefits thing.”

You freeze.

Dread fills you instantly, replacing all of the warmth that had been inhabiting your body just moments before.

Why now? What’s changed? You know what’s changed for you, but it can’t be the same for him if he’s pulling away from you like this.

Yoongi gently removes your hand from his tie, takes a step back from you. Crushes all of your hope with his next words.

“I just don’t know if I can do this with you.”

With you.

“Oh,” you breathe. You feel like you’re going to cry. The beginnings of tears are already welling up in your eyes, and you do your best to blink them away.

“I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “Don’t be,” you say, forcing your expression to remain neutral. “I appreciate your honesty.”

“I still want to be your friend, Y/N,” Yoongi says, his voice pained, like he can see right through you. You wish he’d stop. “Please.”

“Yeah,” you say, your own voice breaking just a little. You don’t want to cry in front of him. Fuck that. “I’m gonna go home. See you.”

Before he has a chance to say anything else, you’re speedwalking to your apartment, fishing your keys out hurriedly to unlock it and rush in.

Once you’re inside, you lean back against the door, sliding down until you’re sitting on the floor. It feels so similar to the night you met him—running away from him in the hallway, feeling like you can’t breathe once you’re on the other side of the door. Too bad it’s so, so different.

At the sound of the door, Rina comes out from your bedroom, Pepper in tow.

“Y/N? Is that you? I thought for sure you’d be getting dicked down right about n—” You watch her stop in her tracks at the sight of you, her expression laden with concern. “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

“There are strings,” you sniffle, looking up at your best friend with watery eyes. “And it’s my fault.”

“Oh, Y/N,” Rina breathes, setting Pepper down and immediately joining you on the floor, wrapping her arms around you.

Your mind flashes back to three years ago, in a position not all that different from this one. But that was for a relationship, one that lasted years. One that you foolishly assumed was heading for marriage. Why does this hurt just as much? Why did Yoongi nestle himself into the softest, most vulnerable parts of you just to rip himself away at the last second?

You finally allow yourself to cry.

✧ shoot me a reply or an ask if you enjoyed this chapter! feedback is always appreciated <3 join my taglist if you want to be tagged in future chapters!

@dollfaceksj @jajabro @coffeedepressionsoup @butterymin @pitchblack0309 @sugar-snap

PREVIOUS CHAPTER ✧ MASTERLIST ✧ NEXT CHAPTER

81 notes · View notes

arcadia-of-pluto · 3 months ago

Text

Twist of Fate; Seventeen

Pairings; LADS OT4 x reader

Word count; 4,562

Themes; isekai, eventual smut, slowburn, canon divergence

Rating; 18+ for swearing and eventual mature themes

Notes; Only update for this week! I decided that it's better to drop my updates down from multiple to just one per week– just until I get a few buffer chapters in-between where my chapters are here and what I'm currently writing!

Also Tumblr on mobile seems to really hate anything over 4k so I'm not sure what to do when it comes to posting longer chapters– but if I do, I probably won't be able to add itallics and bold, but I'm sure no one would mind if I didn't go through and add those little details.

Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter! It's yet another memory one that will span over two chapters (including this one).

Prev || Next

Masterlist

“Y/n…Sweetie, wake up.” You hear a voice and a gentle hand shakes your shoulder. Your eyes slowly opened and your cheeks felt damp. Once your eyes are fully open, you wipe your face and rest a hand on your chest. It tightly grips the front of your dress as you struggle to breathe. Your gaze goes to Sylus with wide eyes and you look around, confused to see the interior of a car and not the beautiful lake you were just at.

The only reminder of your dream laid In your hand…A gem, devoid of colour as if its power had been drained, was in your palm. Was this the aether core Xavier found? No…no way that would've followed you back.

“Where..?” You were still disoriented, trying to keep a grip on which reality was your own. Your hands were trembling.

“We’re back at the house, sweetie. Or did you forget where we were going?” Sylus's voice sounds soft. It sounds too kind, much sweeter than his usual tone with you. Were you somehow in a different kind of dream now?

“No— I...” You hold your head in your shaking hands. “I had a dream...It..” You want to punch yourself in the chest– anything to try and fix the disorder nestled deep in your heart.

“I know, you started crying so suddenly. I was almost scared.” Sylus seems rather calm as he speaks, not waiting for you to elaborate as he opens the car door, “I told you it would be happening more often. You just need to be prepared for it.” His hand reaches out for you as the cool breeze nips at your skin.

“But I felt– Months passed, Sylus. Seasons changed and it’s only been an hour.” You stammer as you try to get out of the car, but your knees almost give out underneath you.

Sylus lets out a sigh and picks you up bridal style. “Was it scary?’ He asks, softly, as he carries you inside. “No…just really sad,” You reply, resting your head on his chest, “And I feel even more tired than before…I felt like I haven’t slept at all…”

“It’s just the first of many,” He muses, not bothering to ask what it was about or explain how he knew so much as he enters your room, and lays you down on your bed. “I’m sorry there’s not much I can do for you,” He speaks in a low register as he takes your hair down from its up-do, running his fingers through the strands, before he gently removes your jewelry. “But I can sit right next to the bed if you want me to. You know I don’t sleep around this time.”

You press your lips together in a thin line, before quickly nodding as you grab his hand, “Please?”

Sylus doesn’t give you a response, but he keeps a tight hold on your hand while you slowly fall back asleep…

The next memory is more involved than the last. You’re not sure who this one is about just yet, but judging by the ghastly sight of bloated corpses and water steadily filling up a ship as a storm raged on, you can only assume it’s Rafayel’s.

From what you could see, it was a dark and stormy night on the high seas. Some of the ship’s crew were talking about a sacrifice that had gone missing and to let down the sails as the stormy sea was too strong from their ship. The large boat was rocking back and forth from the force of the waves, and you almost felt seasick.

You notice waterlogged bodies floating past you as you were hidden behind a wooden storage box. Then, suddenly, your arms are seized in a tight grip and you’re dragged to the edge of the deck. Your eyes widening as the sight of the dark, unforgiven see was all you could see below. “Now throw her overboard!”

What? You were the sacrifice!?

Amidst your surprise, you begin to hear a faint melody, a song sounding as if the sea itself were singing to you. Calling out to you, almost, and like an invisible hand, the melody calms down the raging whirls of the ocean and the winds die down.

“Fools…Any further and a storm would be the last thing on your minds.”

Rafayel?

Though you can’t ponder on your thoughts for too much longer as you’re tossed overboard. Your limbs spread out in a panic as you try to slow your descent into the depths. You can hear the emissaries cheering as you, their sacrifice who was raised for years just for this very reason, finally fulfilled your purpose.

A sinking sense of fear overwhelms your body and the salty ocean water drowns out your pleas and cries for help. Briny water engulfs your body and your eyes burn as you try to keep them open from under the crashing waves. You could’ve tried to hold your breath, but it was already too late.

Your panic had caused you to take in gulps of water and you felt your vision fading. You could feel yourself slowly…and painfully suffocating. Before you lost consciousness, however, you felt something warm envelop you.

Whenever you resurfaced, you greedily gasped for air, coughing out salty water, and felt the cool rain hit your face. Then, you turn toward your savior but your pleasantries die on your lips as you meet his beautiful, otherworldly eyes.

Those familiar, charming bluish-pink eyes.

“Were you abandoned?” He asks, holding an ornate flute as he seemingly stands on top of the now calm waves. The ethereal melody you heard earlier had since disappeared as he was no longer playing his flute.

“Save me…please.” Is all you can croak out and the purple haired man chuckles. He sits down on a piece of driftwood.

Under the moonlit night sky, he looks at you, the scales on his neck emitting a faint glow. He’s lemurian?

“Did you ask for my assistance?” He asks, raising a brow as he rests his arm across his leg. Then, you take a moment to look at him, really look at him.

He had paint-like markings on his face under his right eye, the paint marks were also along his shoulders and chest. Were they tribal markings? He was wearing gold jewelry, the bangles wrapped tightly around his biceps and wrists. A sheer, blue sash across his right shoulder seemed to be the only form of top he had on and his pants were more of a white and gold tunic.

He brings you back to the situation at hand by holding his hand out to you. That’s when you realize his nails were also painted black.

You reach out toward him but, when your hands touch, flames burst forth from his fingers. You let out a squeak of surprise and jerk your hand back, but he starts laughing, amused at his little joke. You, in turn, puff your cheeks out and grab his hand tightly.

Even if this was a memory from the past, it seems Rafayel still acts just the same. It almost makes you want to stay in this dream forever, having missed the man after not seeing him for some time.

The man makes a noise in the back of his throat as you squeeze his hand, “Release me.” The scales on his neck are raised ever so slightly like a cat’s bristling fur. “I said release me!”

Another thought crosses your mind, an even older memory that a lemurian’s kiss can allow one to breathe underwater. This gives you an idea since you’re trapped in the ocean with no other way to survive, you decide to take your chances.

You suddenly reach forward to cup your hands on either side of his face, catching the man off guard, and kiss him. Your lips smash against his in a clumsy kiss, your teeth clinking together in your desperation for survival.

The lemurian lets out a small gasp of surprise as you plead with him again to save you. Your vision becomes more blurry by the second, but you desperately try to hold his gaze.

After a long silence passes, his voice rings in your ears– low…soft…almost like he’s casting a spell to enthrall someone, “I will grant you deliverance and in exchange, offer yourself, your everything to me. Become my follower mortal.”

After this exchange, you assume you passed out. You hear children whispering about whether you’re alive or not. As the conversation turns toward the children wanting to use your possible dead body for dissections, you open your eyes.

The first thing you notice is that you’re in a rather luxurious room. It’s completely covered in the colour blue. From the drapes across the windows to the bedsheets, to the walls.

The children are, understandably, surprised that you woke up in the middle of their conversation. “Where am I?” You ask, slowly sitting up, “Am I below the waves?” You realize you’re probably asking too many questions and bring your hand up to rub your temples. “Keep your distance– she bites.”

You knew that sassy demeanor like the back of your hand. You puff your cheeks out, annoyed that he had to scare those poor children with nonsense.

Rafayel stood by the door with his arms crossed over his chest and, as you took a moment to take him in during the daytime, you realized he was quite attractive. He was always attractive, but in his lemurian garb, he was all the more so.

Though, you do notice that his mouth is swollen and there seems to be a wound on his lips.

Oh, did you…

Once he meets your gaze, he glares at you. “Uhm...where am I?” You finally ask after a few moments of silence.

“A single glance would reveal that you’re in Lemuria. Treat her wounds and give her clean clothes. I’ll inform Elder Amund that we’ve found my devout follower.” He says and you fiddle with your fingers in your lap. “Uhm, you’re my savior right? I should express my gratitude—”

Though, he leaves before you can even finish your sentence.

Maybe…You should go back to the real world after all. You miss Rafayel.

A young girl with beautifully braided blue hair pops up from her hiding spot and excitedly sits on the edge of the bed, “Worry not! When Rafayel brought you back, it seemed you’d been vomiting bubbles with the crabs for a fortnight.”

Then she continued, “My name is Algie and he’s Konche. You’re the first live human we’ve met! Well...There are ones who swam along the currents, but none of them could talk like you.”

The blue haired boy next to her scolds her, “You’re scaring her, sister. Look, her hands are shaking like a shrimp seeing a whale for the first time!”

“My apologies, I didn’t mean it!” Algie quickly clasps her hands together apologetically. “You’re fine. Don’t worry about it but…May I ask why you brought me here?” You ask, head slightly tilted to the side.

“You’ll know when you visit the temple.” Algie says, “It’s a very, veerrry long tale. I’ll tell you on the way!”

She said that in the Deep Sea lies the forgotten kingdom of Lemuria and that the God of the Sea lives there. He protects whatever the briny sea touches and his followers include not just denizens of the ocean, but also humans. His most devout followers must gift him a heart so he has the strength to protect Lemuria and becomes the god recognized by the entire ocean.

Hmm…Rafayel did say ‘we found my devout follower’. Does that mean he wants your heart? And not in the romantic way??

It’s said that the Sea God of this generation was born in flames as dusk turned to dawn and only he can use fire.

Huh, Rafayel did use fire earlier…

In the Tome of the Sea god, it’s stated that in Whalefall City’s temple lies a great flame that has burned for thousands of years and that if this fire were to ever go out, then Lemuria shall fall into a deep slumber for centuries.

So…to keep the flame alive, the Sea God requires a certain human follower. It cannot be a lemurian, it must be a human because they are some of the most selfish, greediest creatures so when they offer their hearts, love, or even their lives, it’s considered the most precious form of worship. This Tome also confirms that Rafayel will be the last God of the Sea.

Once in the temple with Rafayel, you gaze upon the fire in the middle of the room. It almost resembles a sun about to go out.

“She’s most suited to be the one.” You hear Rafayel say and you really hope he doesn’t mean to toss you into the fire as a sacrifice. “Her?” You hear an older voice from across the room.

A man in a robe, holding a staff, questions, “She is the human your Quintessence has decided on?”

“‘Twas more of fate’s whimsy. I wandered about on the earth and became her cushion when she fell.” Rafayel speaks as if you were a stray animal that he had brought home out of the kindness of his heart.

“For now, I shall forget that your Quintessence snuck out and burned the guard’s hair. I must ask again, is she truly to be the human your Quintessence is bound to?”

“As long as the Sea God’s ceremony is assured, I’ll make her my follower.” Is all Rafayel says in response before he goes back to being the sassy Rafayel you truly know, “However, we should remove all of her teeth and nails. I worry she’d bite and scratch us if given the opportunity.”

“I-I don’t think that’s a good idea,” You finally manage to get a sentence out. Amund sighs, “Once a lemurian is bound to someone, it’s impossible to go against their wishes. She will have the power to command your Quintessence. When the two of you barely know each other, is that something worth giving?”

The light flickers on Rafayel’s face and he lowers his head to ruminate about his answer. Then, the Elder leaves so you and Rafayel are alone.

“So…if you’ve yet to decide, can I be set free? I promise I won’t speak of this to anyone.” Though you try your luck, Rafayel continues to stand there. “The day has dragged on long enough. I’m tired.” He sighs, finding a comfortable spot on the floor to sit down.

“What’re you doing?” You question, still standing up. “Sleeping.” He answers simply. “Why??” You are appalled but Rafayel continues, “Wake me before nightfall.”

“You—”

He ignores you, leaning his back against a marble pillar as he closes his eyes. The temple is heavily guarded, so all you can do is sit in a corner and ponder how you were going to escape. Though your thoughts are regularly interrupted by Rafayel’s breathing and after an hour of it, you’re fed up by it. “Rafayel! Ra-fay-el!” You try to wake him up, hands on your hips. Though, he doesn’t react.

A small blue fish suddenly appears and begins swimming around his shoulders.

“Oh– where did you come from? You’re so cute...” You muse, reaching a finger out to poke the fish with a small smile on your lips. “Do you know the way out, Oh little fish?” The fish swims in a circle and settles on your finger as you softly giggle at it. “Do you understand me?” You softly ask the fish, completely endeared with it, “Could you show me a way out?”

Flicking its translucent tail, the fish swims to the stained-glass window behind the alcove...

“Half a day has disappeared like sea foam,” You sigh, walking through the beautiful hallway of the temple, “Why have we returned to these crossroads?” A pout dances across your lips, “Do you lack a sense of direction or do all fish have terrible memory?”

Twirling its tail, the fish suddenly swims into a crowd and leaves you behind. “Where–” You sigh, shaking your head, “I can’t believe I’m trying to talk to a fish.” The fish finally leads you to a coral reef and goes into a small hole in the city’s walls.

“Do I have to swim through that?” You question and the fish spits bubbles at you, almost as if trying to communicate. “I’m coming. I'm coming.” You sigh, swimming through the narrow passageway until you’re on a beach alcove.

You dust the sand off of your knees in triumph. “I’ve definitely got to think of a way to express my gratitude to the fishies…I could possibly feed them during the Sea God’s ceremony,” You murmur to yourself.

“Was it fun to explore Lemuria?”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of Rafayel’s voice. “Rafayel!?”

“There is no need to shout my name.” He says behind a silk curtain, before he steps out to face you.

He lifts his finger and the little fish swims around it, then transforms into a blue scale that lands in his palm. The fish was his own creation!?

“You planned this?” You groan. “‘Twas a test for you. Elder Amund was right. Human promises are nothing but meaningless words.” “Huh– When did I make a vow to you??” You were a bit exasperated.

“I told you to wake me before nightfall, didn’t I?” Rafayel crosses his arms over his chest and then yawns, seemingly not upset in the slightest. “Besides, when I saved you from the ocean’s clutches, we made an oath. Did you forget?”

“That…counted? Look, you’re the sea god, respectful and awe-inspiring. Can’t you consider my rescue an act of kindness and let me go?” You rub the back of your neck as you look away from the man.

“I am not a God who answers every whim. The ceremony is to take place in a month and, as you’re aware, ceremonies always need–” He rests his chin in his hand as he narrows his eyes, filling you with a sense of dread.

“...Followers right? There are plenty on land. You know? The ones who wear robes and pray to you every day. They’re more devout than me.” You quickly cut him off, not wanting to hear him say the word ‘sacrifices’.

“Alright…Then, return to me your life.” He says, one hand on his hip. His other hand reaches out toward you as if grabbing an invisible rope that’s tied tightly around your neck. Though you're unsure of what he’s doing, suddenly you can’t breathe.

You place a hand over your chest, doubling over for a moment as you reach toward your throat and cough. Water enters your nose and throat. Did he…take away your ability to breathe underwater? “Wait, wait!” You panic, air bubbles escaping your mouth as you try to speak, “I’ll do anything you ask!”

Suddenly, a grin spreads across Rafayel’s lips and he loosens his hold. You find yourself able to breathe again. “‘Tis not worship I desire. From the very depths of your soul, I seek only the purest devotion.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The tides ebb and flow and with every setting sun is a moon rising. ‘Till time’s end, I should occupy your every thought. You must believe in me alone.” Rafayel says as he walks closer to you and your eyes widen a bit.

Okay, that’s hot—

“You mean I…” You trail off and the tips of your ear turn a pretty shade of pink. “Think of it from another perspective,” He pokes your chest, specifically where your heart lies. He acts as if he’s stating a truth, “Thou must find a means by which thy heart becomes smitten with me.”

‘Find someone who will kiss you, even if you do not give them the world. Love a soul that is like your own, that which compliments you. Love and death are the most important things in life. Death is a matter of time, so love with all your heart can muster.’

- Lemuria: Tome of the Sea God, Chapter 3

The two of you ended up sneaking to the top of the temple’s spire to watch the sunset. After a few days, you had grown used to the Lemurian’s snarky demeanor. You had also learned a bit more about him, like how he doesn’t like people touching him but is fine with you gently holding his hand.

You recall Amund saying that once the Sea God is bound to a person, they’ll do anything they command so as Rafayel sits down in the shade to nap, you decide to bother him for a bit. His eyes are closed with his arms crossed over his chest, so you reach your hand out to grab his.

“Make some flames for me,” You ask. Rafayel lifts his fingers up before curling them back around yours, but doesn’t say a word.

“Hmm...I didn’t work at all,” You murmur with a pout. “Don’t waste your time.” He lazily opens his eyes. “One should practice silence when watching the sunset.” He drops your hand, resting his arm on his propped up knee.

“Do you want to see the real sun, Rafayel?”

“I do not.” He simply says and the blue fish from earlier reappears. “You wanted to sneak onto the beach the day we met,” You say as the fish swirls around his palm.

“Your tongue barely moved when we first met. Back then you were rather…” He trails off, bringing his hand up to his mouth to tap his lips.

A crimson red blush appears on his ear tips before spreading across his cheeks. His eyes widen as he catches your gaze and he quickly looks away.

“This side of you is much more to my liking.” He finally finishes his sentence.

You tap his shoulder, “Hey, so on the surface we have a Sea God ceremony too. We play wonderful songs on lyres and...”

“Were the surface world as lovely as you claimed, you’d be elsewhere,” He glances toward you before looking back up at the light in the distance.

“There are evil people on the surface! Once they learnt you were Lemurian, your tears that turn into pearls would be harvested day after day endlessly.” You try to spook him, though deep down you knew there would actually be humans as evil as that. Rafayel crosses his arms over his chest as he shakes his head, “If you were to persuade me to bring you to the beach, you’ll run away.”

Though after a few moments of silence, Rafayel leans back against the marble column behind him. “Is the surface world’s sunset different from the one in the ocean?”

“Honestly...my memory of it is hazy…” You trail off as he closes his eyes and you take your chance to sit closer to him. Your head slowly drifts down to rest against the column as well– close to him but not touching him since you recall him saying he doesn’t like to be touched.

“You take me to see the sun and I’ll take you to see the festival...What do you think?” You ask as you look up at him, drinking every detail of his face. Though, as silence fills the room, you realize Rafayel had most likely fallen asleep. The tranquil nature of the situation also somehow makes you sleepy as well and your head leans against his shoulder, almost close enough to touch his head.

Though, you’re hesitant to fully lean against his shoulder. Suddenly you feel a hand on your shoulder, pulling you closer and hear Rafayel tiredly go, “Mmhm.” almost as if saying you’re okay to lean on him. You lift your gaze to look up at his face, worried he was awake, but all you see is his closed eyes. His face way too close to yours, so you instead close your eyes and rest your head on his chest as you join him in sleep…

After a few days, Rafayel decides to go to the beach with you to watch his own celebration first hand. You tell him of how the emissaries on land had adopted you and raised you as a follower of the sea god, only to tell you that you were a sacrifice years later.

You talk of how you wouldn’t have been able to escape because of the island’s size. It was nice to be able to actually talk with someone about your situation for once.

Then, you both enter the festival with driftwood masks that Rafayel made and you overhear a storyteller.

“Unable to break his vow with the girl and his own burning passion, the God of the Sea left the ocean and lived happily ever after with his beloved...”

The children talk amongst themselves after the puppet show. “But Lemuria is centered around bonds. Without it, the Sea God won’t remember or obey her!” A little girl says, clearly upset over the ending.

“What are you talking about? The God of the Sea will find his beloved and live happily ever after,” The little boy next to her sighs, not understanding her.

The young girl lets out a huff of annoyance before tugging at your sleeve as she looks up at you, “What do you think, Miss? Will the Sea God be with her because he loves her or because of their vow?” “Uh...” You glance over at Rafayel before clearing your throat, “All of those legends of Lemuria are just made-up nonsense…”

Though, you seem to have made the wrong choice as the children start crying. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t...” You panic, not used to being around children enough to deal with the situation.

“What about you, Sir? Does Lemuria exist? Would the Sea God gift his heart to a human?” The girl quickly turns to Rafayel for an answer.

The man in question, the Sea God himself, rests his chin on his hand before nodding, “He would. Lemuria is my homeland, so that is how I know.”

Should...he be saying that? You tried to cover his mouth with your hands, but he pushed you away.

“What are Lemurians like?” She asked, excitedly.

“Hmm…Their tears turn into glimmering pearls, and their voices bring dreams of wonder. Their blood can make one live forever or even resurrect the dead.” You really don’t think Rafayel should be saying this but the girl quickly sighs, “I already knew that.”

“Lemurians don’t fall in love with people they’re bound to. ‘Tis a human fantasy.” Rafayel says with a shrug and you can’t help but frown.

“What else?” The little girl jumps up and down.

“Are you that curious?” Rafayel teases with a smile ghosting across his lips. It seems like the Sea God adores children– how cute.

Though, you could only faintly hear the conversation from afar, having walked away after Rafayel said Lemurians don’t fall in love with the humans they’re bound to.

Hmph, you’d just drink your sorrows away with some pomegranate wine.

You take a sip of the wine, being distracted by all of the lights and stalls like an excited little puppy.

Suddenly, the girl walks up to you and tugs on your sleeve again. “Miss! Your friend said that if you don’t return soon, he won’t keep waiting.”

Also, woah! I did not expect my bad weather drabbles to blow up like they did! Does that mean yall want to see more drabbles in the future?

If yall have any ideas for some, I'd love to, at least, try them out! Because I really didn't expect so many people to actually like it. I kept checking my Tumblr and being like "woah 35 notifs???" And then I'd check again and "WAIT, there's 25 more???" So, I'd love to keep doing them. They'd be good to post in-between my ToF schedule!

Hope yall enjoyed this chapter! I'm hoping it still makes sense that the reader can't fully control their body during these memories...I'm not really sure how to convey that tbh.

Taglist; @orphicmeliora , @yoongi-tunes , @mitzkooni , @hiqhkey, @tanspostsblog

89 notes · View notes

bookish-bogwitch · 4 months ago

Text

Thank you @roomwithanopenfire, @rimeswithpurple, @blackberrysummerblog, @nausikaaa, @larkral,

@hushed-chorus, @alexalexinii, @monbons, @whatevertheweather, @run-for-chamo-miles,

@artsyunderstudy, @mooncello, @brilla-brilla-estrellita, @forabeatofadrum, and @aristocratic-otter for the tags over the past few weeks. I've had a crazy month (90% in crazy a good way) and too frazzled to come up with my own WIP posts, but have enjoyed reading yours and being included.

Here are six ten moody little sentence from Chapter 11 of Basil Pitch's Diary. (In case you missed it, I posted Ch. 10, September, a few weeks ago, then fled the country.) Baz is hanging in in Niall and Dev's room:

The last time I was here with Niall, he’d told me to hold out for more than ear scritches and the occasional carrot. Now we sat on his bed with a chessboard between us. “Baz,” Niall said quietly. “What are you doing?” “Beating you.” I moved my queen to menace his remaining bishop. “With Snow, I mean.” Niall did that thing where the rook and king hop around, which shouldn’t be allowed, and I realized he’d won. Again. Somewhere, in a parallel universe, there is a me who grew up with someone to play against, demolishing a Niall who never went to math camp.

Below the cut: musing, a posting plan, and more tags.

Musing: I've actually written a ton since the last chapter even though I've been AWOL, but for a while no matter what I wrote, Baz felt out of character. I'd write a scene, like it, and then think "but why is he doing this?" Then I'd rewrite with Baz behaving completely differently, and that also felt OOC.

I worried that I'd somehow doomed myself with inconsistent characterization, but then I figured it out: Baz at this point is deeply inconsistent. He presents himself to the world one way, he tells the reader / himself that he's something else, and deep down he's a secret third thing. And sometimes his masks slip.

To some extent this is every unreliable narrator. But boyo has REALLY tangled himself up at this point. Something's gotta give. Until it does--which it will, soon--I have to be very clear in my mind, even if Baz isn't, about which Baz is driving the Baz at any given moment.

A lot of you can do that sort of thing intuitively. I can't. So I've been building this out (showing you just the headers b/c spoilers):

This might stultify some (most?) of you. For me, though, it's freeing. When my brain isn't trying to keep track of everything, my imagination can unfurl.

"'Everything'?" you ask. "This isn't that plotty a fic." It's not, but it's already 2.5x longer than anything else I've written, which means developing skills I haven't needed before. Anyway, my BPD chart and I are having fun. We're very happy together.

Posting Plan

I pushed myself to get Ch. 10 up before leaving home for three weeks, because Ch. 9 had ended on such a wretched note. While I was happy to have gotten it up, I didn't love the self-imposed time crunch (though betas @cutestkilla, @facewithoutheart, and @thewholelemon were fuckin' heroes). Feeling rushed had me stressing and second-guessing choices that were probably fine.

My plan now is to pause updates until I have at least a very rough first draft of the final chapter, then post it all at regular intervals. I know a longish pause means some folks who'd been reading along will wait until it's complete, if they return at all. To those folks--sorry, and I get it, and thank you for reading in the first place, and I love you.

Tags and shy waves to @brendughh @beastmonstertitan @carryonsimoncarryonbaz @carryonmylovelies @creepyspice

@comesitintheclover @cows4247 @confused-bi-queer @artsyunderstudy@chen-chen-chen-again-chen

@chronicallyhomoerotic @drowninginships @dragoneggos @excalisbury @emeryhall

@erzbethluna @ebbpettier @fight-surrender @fatalfangirl @gay-at-ikea

@fiend-for-culture @forabeatofadrum @foolofabookwyrm-activated @arthurkko @j-nipper-95

@gekkoinapeartree @goblindad-emoshit @henreyettah @hertragedyconnoisseur @hushed-chorus

@icarus-n-flames @ineffable-grimm-pitch @ic3-que3n @ionlydrinkhotwater @iamamythologicalcreature

@ileadacharmedlife @ivelovedhimthroughworse @shrekgogurt @im-gettingby @youarenevertooold

@monbons @mooncello @raenestee @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @messofthejess

#six sentence sunday #my writing #basil pitch's diary #stem nerd niall #let baz be dumb 2024 #writing thoughts

55 notes · View notes

wings-of-ink · 5 months ago

Text

Hear ye, hear ye!

All of you who have been anxiously awaiting Chapter 4 can send a big thank you to the Microsoft mayhem that happened on Friday. Because of it, I have had two entire, unprecedented, days off of work during which all I did was write and edit chapter 4! Stuff like this never happens to me either, so I ate it up. My work computer is still super broken too, so who knows what will happen tomorrow, lol.

So, chapter 4, barring anything disastrous that I do not yet foresee – is coming very soon. Like, any day this week soon. For now, I am looking for bugs and other errors until I feel comfortable getting the update loaded. I will also be updating the warning list and some things on the itch page. I keep feeling like I'm forgetting something I wanted to do, and am having a hell of a time remembering what it was…

Anyway, if it interests you, more details below!

In going through some of the Google Error Reports, I had a couple that I either could not resolve or find.

It was reported that checking player stats in chapter 1 would not work – that it would flash only for a moment. I could not recreate this. If anyone else has seen this, please let me know.

In the end of chapter 2 where there are multiple ways to spend your time there seems to be some issues with how choices become unselectable after certain clicks and it just doesn't seem to function correctly. I have fixed the issues I have found, but could not recreate all of the instances that were reported. This section may get an overhaul in the future since I understand the coding a bit more now.

It was also reported that fonts are not changing. There is definitely a weird issue with this and it will take some time for me to sit down and hammer out. The fonts do change for me, but notably, I don't think they are switching to the correct font types. They don't even appear to be the same fonts from when I first starting this project, lol. This issue is on hold for now.

The last 2 bonus segments for the end of chapter 3 are being pushed aside for the time being. I kept finding myself feeling like I was hammering them into the chapter and it was a little exhausting. If I force it, it will be less enjoyable to read. The segments that are missing are the ones for hanging out with Zahn and Nathanael. Zahn's is easy to wiggle in elsewhere at least, but I'm not sure if Nathan's will make it in or not. We'll see, my motivation was purely for chapter 4, so now that it is ready to go, I'll have another crack at it before I drop or move them completely. They aren't super important to the story, but are just for fun (and if Oswin got his, it's only fair that Zahn gets theirs too). That last section of chapter 3 ended up way too long, so it may get adjusted later anyway.

As with any work in progress, I can't guarantee that your old saves will work. That's probably how we are going to have to roll for a bit until I really get things nice and smooth. Eventually, I will add an option to start from a later chapter and go through and make the (MANY) relevant choices to skip ahead. This may be implemented when Chapter 6 is ready to go since all the ROs will be available.

I also want to figure out how to implement named saves to make it easier for you to sort. I appreciate IFs that feature this, but I do not yet know how to do it, but I'm going to research. I like to play through with several MCs, and I'd like to offer enough info in the saves and/or Stats Menu that you can do this and easily know who you are playing as. Let me know what you would like most in the Player Stats Menu too. Note, that some options do not appear here until you choose them in the story.

Coming up…

Since Chapter 4 is down, I will soon be posting a big poll about future IFs. I've been compiling info for it here and there for a couple weeks on possible options for me to write in conjunction with God-Cursed. So, stay tuned for that in the coming days.

I will FINALLY get to my inbox in earnest as well! I will keep reaction asks paused until further notice since they take me the longest to answer. Feel free to still send in comments or quicker questions. If your question is too spoilery to answer, I will not be able to post about it.

Anyway, hope you are all doing well! I can't wait to see what you think of chapter 4. I hope you enjoy it. I'll get it out just as soon as I feel comfortable enough with it. ^_^

#god cursed if #asks #twine if #if wip #twine wip #interactive novel #interactive fiction #demo update

96 notes · View notes

k-s-morgan · 6 months ago

Note

Hi, I don't know how to write this differently... I'm kinda, little bit, very very worried 😅 I don't want to make you feel obligated to answer this, with the electric outages and everything, but please just a little update if you're ok 🩷 Rusáci jsou kundy, přeji ti hodně sil 💛💙 srdečné pozdravy z Česka (Russians are cunts, I wish you strength, теплий привіт з Чехії*)

*I could only think of best wishes in English, which is not the same, so I hope google translated it with the same warm sentiment 😊

Ask from @princessgotham21: Hi Kat, we've not heard from you in a while so I hope you're safe and okay. I don't care about updates, I just genuinely want to know your wellbeing. Sending prayers and love 🤍

Ask from @seiji-amasawa: I’ve been following your stories for years now, and with news headlines about what’s going on in Ukraine has me really nervous for your well being. I hope you and your loved ones are doing well. You’re in my thoughts <3

Ask from @disappearinghills: You haven’t posted in a week, I hope you’re okay love❤️

-----

Hi! I'm finally home and with a steady connection - in fact, while I was gone, my Dad did some techno-magic, so now I'll have the Internet even when there is no power! Seeing all these asks made me so warm and happy, and cared for. Thank you all so much! I really didn't expect the connection to be this bad in the mountains. That place had WiFi, both of my cell operators were accessible, and yet nothing connected properly 99% of time. Not sure how it works. On the other hand, I took a really good rest from the war-related news, air raids, and other stuff. I heard just one explosion at a distance in over 2 weeks.

@jebemtimater7890, ah, I really appreciate your sentiment <3 Дуже дякую за такі чудові слова! It always warms me so much to know that so many people from different countries support Ukraine. Maybe it's the result of my vacation, but I started to feel a little more optimistic about the war than I have in over a year. Not sure it will last long, but it's such a relief to feel like this for now.

I went to the mountains with my Mom, and the place we were staying at had the loveliest cat who instantly realized I'll be more than happy to let her share my bed :D It was very hot for one week, and then it rained non-stop for the next one, so we got all kinds of experiences.

I'll miss the peace and quiet of that place, but being home is also good! I missed my set of silly pets, half of whom didn't immediately recognize me and tried to flee before figuring out who I am :D

The first part of a series of ATLWETD updates will be up in a few hours. I'm doing the last quick read - it probably isn't necessary, I've edited it already, but I can't help it, I always feel like I'll catch some more mistakes/unfortunate turns of phrases.

#personal #ukraine #my fics #iltsi #iltsi village

57 notes · View notes

sweetladyjustice · 4 months ago

Text

This is a repost, because I think my visibility settings were preventing it from ending up in the tags.

Here's a little something for @bloodweaveweek Day 1: Firsts.

Life got away from me (I blame Dragon Age) so my BW Week responses will just be updates from stuff I'd written for a Discord creativity challenge during March. This was going to be a part of a longer fic I wanted to write, but I've since changed direction.

Be warned: sappy, soft, and really self-indulgent! Takes place three years post-game.

~~~

Their life was simple.

The sun was setting over the water, casting brilliant reds and pinks across the horizon. A carafe of good wine sat on the table between them. Astarion was sprawled on the chaise, facing the setting sun and sitting up just enough to sip his wine, reading the weekly gossip rag. He was particularly curious about the love triangle that had caused near-blows at last month’s soiree at a minor lordling’s manor. He and Gale had been invited to the soiree, but declined as Karlach and Tav had been passing through Waterdeep on their latest adventure. Now Astarion was regretting not having gone, even if it had meant missing out on an evening with his friends. He hummed and turned the page, eagerly continuing the story.

Gale sat across from him in a wicker chair, an ancient book about some kind of esoteric magic balanced on his lap. Occasionally, he asked Astarion for an opinion on spell techniques. Astarion mostly answered in grunts and shrugs, more focused on his own reading.

Life was very boring. But Astarion loved it.

Gale broke the companionable silence.

“Do you want to do anything special for your birthday?”

“Gale, I love you, but I do not understand a word of what you’re reading from that dusty old book. Wait.” Astarion dropped his reading as Gale’s words finally registered. “My what?”

“Your birthday! It’s in three days.” He winked at Astarion. Winked. Astarion scrunched his face into a frown as Gale continued. “And, if I may point out, it’s a significant one!”

Astarion sat up and topped off his goblet of wine. He reached for the carafe and poured himself another generous glass. He would probably need it for wherever this conversation was going. “Significant how? And how did you know? I didn’t even know my birthday. Not until this very moment, anyway.”

“It was etched onto your headstone,” Gale answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in all the realms.

“Oh, right,” Astarion responded. Then he flashed Gale a wicked grin. “I don’t remember what my headstone said, but I remember what we did on my headstone.”

Gale ignored him and pressed on. “Per the dates, you were 39 years old when you were turned. The ‘clock’, so to speak, restarted on aging for you after we returned the Crown.” Astarion pursed his lips at the mention of aging, but Gale didn’t notice. “This is your first birthday since your mortality was restored. Do you know what that means?”

He wracked his brain, trying to think of human birthday customs. “Ah! Yes I do. You will be taking me out to a very expensive dinner followed by a night of mind-blowing sex?”

“Well, yes, we will certainly be doing that,” Gale said, with an almost dismissive wave of his hand. “But what I mean is, you’re turning 40!”

Astarion blinked, then laughed. “Oh, I’m older than that. I was born in 12-something, and it’s…” he paused, thinking. “It’s 1494.”

“It’s 1495.”

“Oh. It’s 1495. That means I’m actually…” he paused again. “Well, it means I’m actually much older than 40.” He shrugged. “But if you don’t want to count all those undead years, I can accept that.” He took another sip of his wine. “While I won’t say no to being spoiled, I’m curious. Why is this so important?”

“Forty is a milestone birthday!” Gale spread his hands in the air in a ta-da motion.

A long pause hung heavy in the air as Astarion tried his damnedest not to giggle at his husband.

“For humans, maybe.” He tapped the point of one ear. “I’m an elf.”

“Ah, but you’re married to a human.” Gale leaned forward, reaching across the table to take Astarion’s hand. “So please, indulge your very human husband and allow me to make a big deal out of this?”

“Fine. Expensive dinner, lots of sex.”

“That’s all?”

Astarion nodded. “That’s all. This whole birthday thing,” he waved his hand in front of his face with a flourish, “is entirely new to me. Let’s start simple. Wine me and dine me.”

Gale smiled, resplendent, and released Astarion’s hand. He leaned back into his chair and opened his book. “Now, I would like your opinion on an original illusion spell technique that I am developing for my more advanced students.”

“Ask away, darling.”

~~~

Astarion’s birthday dawned bright and clear, like most days in Waterdeep did. He roused from a light doze and slipped from Gale’s arms, creeping his way to the washroom so as not to wake his husband.

Astarion studied himself in the mirror. Forty. He looked just as he had yesterday at 39. Same high cheekbones, same light splash of freckles across the same prominent nose, same beauty mark under his left eye. He still had a shallow dimple in his chin and a small scar next to his mouth. And the same ocean-blue eyes stared back from the glass. An unbidden memory flooded into his mind.

“I would rather be a spawn for eternity than be indebted to you.”

“You owe me nothing, Astarion.”

“Then why did you bring me here? Fix him like you promised!”

“I already have. The orb is gone. Gale was as obstinate as you are, and he insisted I give you a boon for your part in reforging the Crown. On that, he and I agree.”

“Why? Since when have you been charitable?”

“It is not charity. It is my obligation. I witnessed the great pain you endured retrieving the netherstones from the Chionthar. I would not have the Crown were it not for your help.”

“I didn’t do that for you. I did it for Gale.”

“Then consider this my obligation to him, if you must.”

There was a flash of purple-silver light, blinding him momentarily. Just as suddenly as he had been snatched away, he was back in the tower’s library, heart pounding and lungs filling with gasping breaths, entire body tingling. A pair of arms circled his waist, holding him steady. Gale’s face swam into view, eyes wide, staring at Astarion in awe.

Astarion sighed. Whether it was a wistful sigh or frustrated sigh, he wasn’t sure. He still didn’t quite believe he did anything to deserve the gift of mortality, but over the last several months, he’d stopped questioning Mystra’s motivations. Or, perhaps, he’d grown to trust Gale even more deeply than he already had. It had been Gale that had advocated to Mystra on his behalf. There must have been some lingering fondness there on her part for her to agree to his demands. As he pondered, Astarion craned his neck and brushed his fingers over the fading scars, the last remaining hint of what he used to be.

He pushed his doubts away and gazed back at himself in the mirror, this time indulging in a bit of vanity. He grinned, reveling in the way the corners of his eyes creased. And no fangs, of course. He finished washing up, tousled his hair, and crept downstairs to the kitchen.

As soon as he reached the bottom of the stairs, he felt a woosh of air ruffle his hair and heard the flutter of feathers.

“Happy birthday, Mister Dekarios!”

Astarion ducked, nearly bopped in the head by the tressym zooming excitedly around the kitchen.

“Ah, thank you, Tara. And good morning to you.”

Tara made a few more tight circles in the air before settling on the kitchen table. Astarion gave her a few scratches behind the ears on his way to the coffee pot. She had warmed up to him surprisingly quickly when he and Gale arrived in Waterdeep. He had been certain that his presence would be tolerated at best, outright rejected at worst. However, within days, Tara could be found perched on his shoulders or settled in his lap in front of the fire. Even more surprisingly, Morena Dekarios had welcomed him with open arms. She was a warm and caring person, just like her son. Astarion wondered if she made a big deal out of Gale’s birthdays when he was young.

Astarion turned back to the tressym as the coffee brewed. “Tara, do all humans get so excited about birthdays?”

“Oh, yes, humans very much enjoy celebrating the people they love. Why, I recall Morena fretting over what to do for Gale’s 30th birthday. He was so wrapped up with that goddess at the time, and completely disregarded Morena’s invitation!” She stomped her little paw on the table. “Oh, what an awful day that was. Poor Morena was so heartbroken.”

“Right, that.” He didn’t want to think anymore about Mystra today. Astarion scratched absent-mindedly at his chest. Sometimes, he couldn’t believe that his kind, loving husband was once a callous man obsessed with his proximity to power. He made a mental note to bring up the 30th birthday incident (as gently as he was capable of being) with Morena next time they had lunch.

A rather depressing thought popped into Astarion’s head. “Tara, Gale wants to celebrate my birthday tonight. Do you think he might be doing this out of guilt for the 30th birthday thing?”

“Oh no! I assure you, this has nothing to do with guilt. He apologized to Morena years ago. He wants to celebrate you, his love. Human lives are short, dear. Every year is special to them.”

“Hmm, yes, I think about that far too often.” He sighed and picked up the two mugs of coffee and made for the stairs. “Thank you, Tara. I’ll indulge him with this birthday business.”

Tara tsked when she saw the mugs in his hands. “Gale should be bringing you coffee! It’s your birthday! You’re supposed to be relaxing! He should be spoiling you! Oh that lazy boy, I will be giving him an earful later!”

~~~

As promised, Gale took Astarion out to an expensive dinner with even more expensive wine. The walk home felt excruciatingly long, as Gale had also promised mind-blowing sex. A promise on which, of course, he delivered. And delivered. And delivered again.

Hours later, they were lounging in their bed, sweaty and sated. Astarion’s heart was thudding in his chest, still a novel sensation nearly a year after it had beat back to life. Gale’s head was pillowed on his chest. Astarion drew lazy circles with his fingers along his husband’s shoulder.

But despite his contentment, he couldn’t stop thinking of his conversation with Tara that morning. I’ll have to do something nice for Gale’s next birthday, he reasoned.

Then it dawned on him. He was missing a major piece of information about his husband.

“Shit.”

“Mmm?” Gale had been drifting off. He rubbed his face sleepily on Astarion’s chest. “Everything alright, Astarion?”

“I have a question. And before I ask you, my darling, my love, I want you to know that I love and cherish you very much. Every moment with you makes up for centuries of torture and torment. I cannot imagine my life without you.”

Before he could continue, Gale stiffened and lifted his head off of Astarion’s chest, looking him in the eye. He looked… suspicious.

Astarion cleared his throat. “Well, I was thinking. If humans like birthdays so much, perhaps we should make it a habit of celebrating them, and I thought I should do something for your next birthday. Something nice. And nice still isn’t really my thing, so I would need help from your mother and Tara, and then I realized…”

“You don’t know when my birthday is, do you?”

Astarion blushed red to the tips of his ears and shook his head.

“Astarion!” Gale pushed himself onto his elbows to glare at his husband. “Do you even know how old I am?”

Astarion paused. “Forty two?”

“Forty two?” Gale’s voice came out much higher than usual.

“Not 42?”

“I’m only 38!”

Astarion gave Gale a sheepish grin. “Well, you don’t look a day over 35, my dear.”

Gale frowned and huffed, but leaned forward and gave Astarion a soft kiss on the lips. He settled back down, and Astarion knew he was listening to his heartbeat. He pulled the blankets up over them both and pressed a kiss to Gale’s gray-streaked hair.

“Happy birthday, my love,” Gale whispered. His breathing grew slow and heavy. Astarion grinned and as he slipped into a trance, he thought to himself, May it be the first of many.

#BloodweaveWeek2024 #bloodweave #gale dekarios #astarion #bg3 fic #baldur's gate 3 fic

30 notes · View notes

look-at-the-soul · 5 months ago

Text

Look at the soul- Part 12

Cillian Murphy x OC

Author’s note: please please forgive me for taking so long to update this little story, hopefully I’ll get on posting more frequently ✨ I hope you still like this couple, there’s a lot in the store for them 🥰

Series Master list

Song: Alone by Heart, the Royal Philharmonic Orchest

Word count: 2,938

“That was great!” The director called enthusiastically just as Cillian finished his lecture.

An assistant emerged from the shadows in a heartbeat and asked if he wanted something to drink.

“I’m alright, thanks.” He gave her a small nod.

“Let me take this off.” A tech approached him and pointed at the microphone attached to the nape of his jacket.

“Oh, sure.” Turning around, Cillian lifted the back of his jacket so the man could undo the clip holding it together.

Someone else offered Cillian another folder with another part of the script. Something happened in that very moment, the paper felt heavy, not because it was a ton of papers, but because of the character, what this opportunity could mean.

“Are you sure you can’t push your other commitment?” The director finally reached him with a long face. “Your screen tests is fucking amazing.”

Cillian clenched his jaw for a moment. Thinking of the play, all the hard work they’ve been investing daily, the rehearsals, the way it had helped him with the pain and loss of his wife. And then, in the back of his mind, Marianne’s face appeared flashing him.

This was probably one of the greatest opportunities in his career…

****

“How’s little Miss Hanna?” Marianne asked over the phone as she finished washing the dishes.

She could feel her best friend smiling as she made a sound to her daughter.

“Getting bigger every minute.” Her friend Anna replied. “Do you wanna FaceTime?”

Marianne made an excitement sound and pressed the green button on her screen. “Oh look at you princess! You’re so pretty.”

“She was sick last week, and now I’m starting to feel ill, it sucks because I won’t be able to take any medicine.”

“Ow sweetie, try to get some rest at least.”

“The sleeping schedule it’s a mess she wakes up in the middle of the night every single day, we’ve tried soft music, dark room and now Evan is sleeping in the guest room because he needs to get up early the next day.”

“Wish I could be closer to help you during the day at least.” Marianne felt sad for the miles keeping them apart. After years of friendship seeing her best friend become a mother hit different, maternity gave her this beautiful aura and she seemed to have special super powers to balance motherhood, her business and everything around the house without breaking a sweat. It was admirable.

“I’d love that! But enough of diapers… tell me! How’s it going over there?”

Finishing with the dirty dishes, she took her phone with her to sit on the couch, pausing the movie she wasn’t even watching.

“Oh! It’s been good, lots of rainy days. I was working on an essay for a project but words won’t come out as they should, it doesn’t makes sense so I’m taking a break from it and I’ll start it over later.”

“I wish I could help you but… nope.” Anna stated firmly and then cracked a smile, she was over college papers now. “Have you been out meeting cute ginger Irish boys?”

Marianne laughed. “How do you know?” She joked, her schedule was hectic most of the time, that was the last thing on her mind.

“Ugh of course you haven’t.” Anna rolled her eyes, she knew her too well.

Suddenly Scout did a big stretch and decided to join her, demanding some petting like she did whenever he was close.

“Who’s that?” Anna asked with interest.

“Scout. Say hiya.” Marianne moved her phone closer to show her friend the black lab. “I’m puppy sitting him, it’s adorable.”

“And the owner is…?”

“He’s part of the cast of the play.” Marianne pretended to give Scout a smooch on the head, but she was able to feel her friend’s gaze on her.

“Okay… is he single?” Anna went immediately in for the important details.

“Widowed.”

Anna’s jaw dropped, she grabbed her phone excitedly while whispering because Hannah was now taking a nap on her other arm. “Spill the gossip.”

“Stop, there’s no gossip.”

“He’s widow, has a dog that clearly likes you. What else?”

“Anna relax.”

“No. Don’t tell me to relax, tell me the dirty details.”

Marianne felt mortified, in the past Anna tried to be a matchmaker, introducing her to several friends, and her husband’s friends, even a cousin, but it didn’t went further than a date.

“Look-” but her words got cut when she got a message from Cillian greeting her and to ask how Scout was behaving.

“Is that the dog’s Dad?”

“No, it’s Mum I’ll give her a call.” She felt bad for lying to her best friend, but she didn’t feel like there was something to tell. “Love you, call you later.” She rushed to hang up.

***

Cillian strolled thru the busy platform at the tube, it was starting to get packed, close to rush hour. He remembered this all so well from the years he lived in the city, eager to get a better opportunity in the industry.

He waited patiently minding his own business just like everyone else… people from different places, backgrounds and mindsets crossed before him not giving him a double look. He liked that, it was awkward to be stopped by a stranger to praise about his work, he felt extremely grateful without a doubt, but he sucked at the taking compliments part. He never knew what to say or do.

He felt thankful for the walk he was taking, he had a lot of things on his mind, he just got off the phone with one of his kids, they were just finishing their homework and decided to help grandpa set up a dvd player. Cillian strolled through the busy street now, deciding to go straight to his hotel room, he could always grab something from the mini bar to have dinner.

The beep on his phone announced a new message and it changed his whole mood.

Sleeping (he’s snoring).- Marianne wrote him and added a photo of Scout peacefully sleeping on her lap.

A stupid smile appeared on his lips, he couldn’t stop it.

Looks like you’ve got the magic touch. He wrote back, but deleted it before sending. Looks like he’s having a blast. He typed instead. Can I give you a call?

As he stepped inside his room, Cillian took off his shoes and jacket, Marianne didn’t reply but called him directly.

“Hey how’s it going?” He asked walking around the room.

“Oh my! You should’ve seen Scout, he jumped and stormed off towards the door when he heard you.” Marianne explained that she had the call on speaker.

Cillian chuckled softly. “Yeah?”

“Yes! Look I’m going to put you on video.”

Staring at his screen, he pressed the green button and soon an image of Scout wagging his tail and looking at the door filled his phone.

“Talk to him.” Marianne proposed crouching down to get closer.

“Hey buddy, over here.”

Scout turned around a started stomping his front paws.

“See? He misses you.”

Cillian saw her hand caressing Scout’s head.

“What was the other photo you sent me? Earlier.”

“Oh! That was us going for a walk.” Marianne explained going back to sit on the couch, still pointing her camera towards the black lab.

With a huff, Scout jumped on the couch before getting comfortable against Marianne once more. Arranging the base, she leaned her phone on it to have her hands free and went back to scratch Scout’s head.

“He’s having the time of his life.” Marianne stated giving the dog a glance.

A soft smile grew on his lips. “But he had something yellow on?”

“Yes! I got him a raincoat.” Marianne explained waving her hand.

“You let him on the couch, protect him from the rain… when I go back he’s going to be so spoiled.” He chuckled softly getting comfortable.

“Well he deserves spawcial treatment.” She explained running her fingernails through his back. “Righ?” She asked staring into those big brown eyes.

Envy flashed through Cillian’s mind. How lucky that bloody dog is, he thought.

“Tell me, how is London?”

“Crowded and it wasn’t raining so that’s grand.” Cillian chatted. “But they could’ve saved me the trip.”

“Why?” Marianne frowned and started fidgeting something around her neck.

Cillian let out a soft groan and looked towards the window. “From the beginning I said I couldn’t do this project, but the director insisted on the screen test.”

Marianne mouthed an explicit oh, but decided to not interrupt Cillian’s explanation. “I’ve other priorities going on at the moment.”

How could he make a decision like that? Choose between two projects, she wondered what made him say no before it could even start and how that probably affected him on future plans.

He couldn’t help but fix his eyes on her hand, twisting one of her fingers between the necklace. “I’m sorry… what’s that?”

Marianne looked down to see what he meant.

“Your pendant.” He clarified.

“My grandma gave it to me when I turned eighteen. It was given to her by her mother.” She leaned forwards to get closer to the camera and show it to him. “It’s our Lady of Guadalupe. I’ve had it for years.”

Cillian thought how he hadn’t noticed it before. Immediately it gave him an idea, it could be useful as a resource in the play, how come he didn’t think of it before?

“That’s lovely.” He hummed.

“It’s very popular over there, the fact that she chose to show up with the same skin color as our natives, the meanings behind her dress and veil… there’s actually professional studies that confirm the image isn’t a print and her eyes actually are alive.” she explained, getting lost. “Sorry, I got carried away.”

“No it’s fine… I mean I don’t, but everyone chooses what to believe in.”

He remembered seeing her making a silent prayer from time to time, or the signal of the cross subtly before a rehearsal.

Marianne thought how thoughtful it was from him to respect her beliefs. She liked the fact that he didn’t laugh or rolled his eyes by her words.

“You know… I keep you and your kids in my prayers.” She added out of the blue, not knowing if she was stepping over the line. But she did, praying was the best she could do for him.

“Thank you, that’s very kind.” He swallowed, not knowing what else to say, it was a beautiful gesture from her despite his own thoughts about religion. “I think adding a subtle touch like that to the play would be nice.”

“What? Are you going to make Adria pray at night?” She joked, making him laugh.

“No, but the necklace. That and the letters we thought about her and this secret man in her life, I just thought he could’ve given her a necklace that means so much and she keeps it.”

“I like how it sounds!”

Cillian asked her to hang on while he looked around for a pen and paper to take notes, Marianne heard him curse over what seemed to be an stuck drawer.

“It could be like a transition step,” he thought out loud, “she finds the necklace and it’s a pivotal moment for Adria, then the letters… and that’s when this man reveals himself to the audience.” He could see it all so clearly, Adria’s facial expression, her strong persona shattering by the sudden memories.

Marianne could hear Cillian talk all day long, his velvety voice was like a lullaby to her when he got lost in something, it was like she could see what he was explaining in a movie scene. The images were so vivid, like in a dream.

His critical point of view added something magical to what might sound like a regular idea. He made it stand out.

“I just think we’re going to cause Enda a heart attack with the changes we’ve suggested.” Marianne sighed and Scout mirrored her.

“Nah, he’s gonna be fine.” Cillian waved his hand to dismiss her worries. “What really matters here it’s how you feel.”

She chuckled nervously, not wanting the conversation to turn about her, deep down she still felt so nervous for the outcome of this.

He didn’t want to say he was a good actor, but he was good at reading people. For an instant, her fears flashed through her eyes. But at the same time he was having a hard time trying to find the differences between her and Adria, it was almost impossible to spot where one ended and the other started.

“What? What is it?”

“How do you do it? How can you not be scared of getting on stage?”

Cillian pouted, pondering on her question. “I guess you don’t think about it.”

“But I’m already.” She laughed.

“Then just move your attention towards something else… your next move, the next line. Try to focus on what’s going on at the moment.” He tried to give her the best advice. “Roll with it, enjoy it.”

“I’m just wondering if anyone will come and see a rookie.”

“Tickets will sold out, mark my words.” He assured her without hesitation.

“Thanks for the cheering, I really appreciate the support.” She scratched Scout absently.

“Do you want to hear the idea I’ve for the video?” Now it was Cillian’s turn to smile, he had been working on that project most of the flight, taking notes and letting his mind go as he listened to the song over and over.

“Absolutely!”

“We’ve learned to leave judgment behind us already right?” He asked holding his phone in his other hand.

“Oh God, what are you going to make me do this time around? Should I be scared?” Marianne joked.

“Just wanted to make sure.”

“I’m going to do it anyways.” She added then.

And Cillian was transported back in time, when he’d get the call from certain film director, he didn’t ask what was the part about or how big was the role involved… he always said yes.

So he went on to tell her all about the very specific idea he wanted to achieve for this video and how fitting it felt for the lyric.

He felt inspired, in his mind he could already see the images, the story telling itself, and the permission to use the locations was already on its way. Being behind the camera was one of his many passions, and getting the chance to do it once more was an opportunity he didn’t want to let go.

She noticed the excitement in his voice as he explained the different segments of the story, she could only compare it to taking a kid to Disneyland, and a couple of times, she forced herself to look somewhere because he was too distracting.

“I had a crazy moment earlier,” Marianne started to tell him as the call took another turn.

“Ya? What happened?” Cillian asked lifting his free arm to place it behind his head, involuntarily Marianne couldn’t help it but stare at his bicep.

“I started talking to Scout, as if he’d answer me.” She laughed and Cillian imitated her reaction. “Then I stopped abruptly when I realized what I was doing and started laughing while Scout barked uncontrollably, he probably thought I was crazy.”

“Oh he’s used to that, don’t worry I talk alone all the time.” Cillian offered then with a smile.

“He’s like a big teddy bear.” She gushed, swooning over the black lab keeping her company. “I’m not so sure I want to give him back.”

She added in a playful tone, but quickly rushed to explain she was just joking.

And that provoked a loud and deep laugh from him. Raisin his eyebrows he covered his mouth with his palm, the realization of how easy she made him smile or laugh made his mind go into another direction…

“Alright Scout, are you ready? We’re having a spaw night.” Marianne explained to the dog after ending the call with Cillian, she put on a fluffy robe, threw her hair up in a messy bun and invited Scout to sit on her lap, as she started to brush him he quickly started to relax, opening his legs wide and closing his eyes while she rubbed his belly.

She then put one of her hairbands just for fun and took one of his paws to added moisturize. So far he seemed to enjoy it, she always thought a dog is just like a little kid, they get excited over the simple things the things that really matter, and in the process they show us a different side of love.

“Do you like it?” She asked trying to look at Scout’s face, but he was far gone, with his tongue sticking out, showing off his teeth.

“You know, I’ve been keeping a little secret…” she whispered, struggling to find the right words. “I think I’m falling for your Dad.”

But admitting her feelings out loud didn’t make it easier, all the opposite she wondered how she’d be able to hide them while working together.

And little did she know that a few miles away, staring out of his hotel window, Cillian was looking at the sky, thinking of her and all the feelings she was making him have.

He wanted her to be part of his life, he was craving the peace and joy she brought whenever she stepped in the room. He needed to hear her laugh and see her smile every day, all the time. He just needed to find a way to her heart.

I hear the ticking of the clock

I'm lying here, the room's pitch dark

I wonder where you are tonight

'Til now I always got by on my own

I never really cared until I met you

And now it chills me to the bone

How do I get you alone?

You don't know how long I have wanted

To touch your lips and hold you tight

You don't know how long I have waited

And I was going to tell you tonight

But the secret is still my own

And my love for you is still unknown, alone

'Til now I always got by on my own

I never really cared until I met you

And now it chills me to the bone

How do I get you alone? How do I get you alone?

Black lab Inspiration: Elvis batz the lab

Our Lady of Guadalupe

Tag list: @lyarr24 @garrison-girl-08 @cillmequick @zablife @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo

@kettlechips3 @blondie-22 @forbidden-forest-witch @kaitebugg03 @narlytude

@onlydeadcells @babaohhhriley @lonelyweeb0044 @lovemissyhoneybee @ange-thoughts

@already-broken144 @cutecurly-hair @winchestergirl22 @moral-terpitude @ironpen

@elenavampire21 @lespendy @kittycatcait219 @stevie75 @esposadomd

@sloanexx @shaddixlife @rangerelik @peakyscillian @woofgocows

@cillianlove @imichelle-l-rigby @emmanuelle19 @sydneyyyya @cljordan-imperium

@flippittygibbitts @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @elk96 @shelundeadxxxx

@kmc1989 @lau219

#That’s what Cill said #cillian murphy fiction #cillian murphy oc #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy x fem reader #cillian murphy x y/n

30 notes · View notes

serial-serializednovelreader · 5 months ago

Text

Nova’s Notes - Dracula Daily - July 20

In which Seward completes his thought (it only took him *checks notes* TWELVE days to cook it up but it’s here)…

Again, Seward uses a lot of ableist language in this entry that I do not relish. There is also implied animal death (not “shown”, just said to have happened) and mention of drugging someone. To get around this, I won’t quote these parts and will only describe them as little as I can (under the cut). I’ll also post this with the appropriate tags. If I don’t see you in this one, I hope to see you in a bit of a lighter entry! Your mental health matters <3

“Visited Renfield very early, before the attendant went his rounds. Found him up and humming a tune. He was spreading out his sugar, which he had saved, in the window, and was manifestly beginning his fly-catching again; and beginning it cheerfully and with a good grace. I looked around for his birds, and not seeing them, asked him where they were. He replied, without turning round, that they had all flown away.”

I know we have a lot to get to, but at least I finally have an answer as to how he’s catching flies — sugar! That makes sense! (Yes, that is what I’m focusing on, no I’m not sorry about it — I’ve been asking Seward about methodology for WEEKS and he just got back to me with this /j) I do wonder where he gets the sugar to spread though…I suppose if Seward is supporting his “pet endeavors” to this end, he is probably allowing him to keep sugar for this purpose. I guess that makes sense. I’m also just imagining Renfield dancing around and humming while spreading sugar…a fun image, to be sure.

Here’s where it gets bad. Last warning, y’all!

What’s not fun is that we can’t see where the birds went. And Renfield isn’t forthcoming on where they went….the fact he won’t turn around while speaking to Seward is telling in and of itself.

So Seward looks further about the room and sees two signs that point to Renfield lying about the birds flying away: feathers scattered about the room, and a drop of blood on his pillow.

Not a good sign!!! Not a good sign at all!!!! I knew this was coming, but I do love that Stoker *evokes* the message of what happened, rather than outright saying it by showing the image of blood and feathers. The art of show don’t tell comes into play once more.

A bit later in the day at 11 a.m., an attendant affirms what Seward already knows: those birds did not just “fly away”. How do they know? Well, Renfield is now sick and is…throwing up feathers. Yeah, this isn’t good.

Twelve hours later, we get an update: that Renfield was given some medication to put him to sleep and Seward took his notebook to read.

Ok, so initially when I read this I was like, “he drugged him without his consent???? To take his notebook???? How DARE he????” And yes, we can definitely look at it in that light, but before doing so, I’d recommend reading this post with the note at the bottom by @rosetyler42 (and also has really good points by @animate-mush for the later points in this post, which I’ll also address). TL;DR, the point raised is that there’s a good chance Seward actually gave Renfield the medicine to help him go to sleep because of his illness. I agree that he likely has food poisoning after what he’s eaten and, as someone who’s had this, you do not feel very good! It would make sense that Seward — as a doctor — would give him medication to treat it, though in this case, the treatment would likely mean putting him to sleep for a time. With all of the nausea and pain he’s in, that actually has some sense to it.

Of course, in the meantime, Seward *will* take the opportunity to read Renfield’s journal. He may be treating his patient (and whether you believe he actually is treating him, or that he solely drugged him to get the notebook is your choice — I know he hasn’t being the most ethical person lately), but he’s not going to miss the chance to peek through the personal belongings while he can! That’s just how Seward is.

Note: this next part is where he uses the majority of his ableist language. I don’t mention it in my thoughts, but wanted to give a heads up for anyone who hasn’t read the entry yet and was wondering where this starts.

Seward finally completes his thought (and I can’t really skate around the implications, so apologies for this): Renfield is setting out to absorb as much life as he can, and he intends to do this by way of a mini food chain, with him as the top predator. Seward is quite interested in what would have been his later steps, and if anything scientifically important could be achieved by this.

Yes, this is where he brings up vivisection, but as the post I linked states, this is more of an example of what was considered to be a strange scientific method that turned out to be useful, rather than him wanting to perform this on Renfield. Don’t get me wrong, the fact that he brings up vivisection as his first thought is…strange, I won’t deny that. But I think it’s more his brain nerding out on science things, rather than wanting to do a vivisection. What he does what to do is get to the heart of what Renfield’s science could be capable of, if anything. However, and this is important to note, he won’t do that because he is not willing to go this far into unethical territory by continuing the experiment. Why? There’s not enough sufficient evidence to indicate positive results, as evidenced by this passage:

“If only there were a sufficient cause! I must not think too much of this, or I may be tempted; a good cause might turn the scale with me, for may not I too be of an exceptional brain, congenitally?”

(Lol, yes Seward you’re smart too <— edit: he actually means out of the norm/neurodivergent here, not smart) He also speculates on the value Renfield places on a human life — many or just one. I do think this is interesting to consider, as some of us humans do eat meat! I don’t like where Seward is going with this though!!!

I do like where he closes this train of thought with:

“He has closed the account most accurately, and to-day begun a new record. How many of us begin a new record with each day of our lives?”

That…that is very profound, Seward. You didn’t have to put that in your musings about Renfield, but you did. Something that I enjoy about Seward’s character is that he likes to get lost in philosophical musings and this is a good example of that.

“To me it seems only yesterday that my whole life ended with my new hope, and that truly I began a new record. So it will be until the Great Recorder sums me up and closes my ledger account with a balance to profit or loss. Oh, Lucy, Lucy, I cannot be angry with you, nor can I be angry with my friend whose happiness is yours; but I must only wait on hopeless and work. Work! work!”

Oh, Seward! And here we reach the root of the problem, one he’s been avoiding talking about for a long time: Lucy. After all, this whole experiment-fiasco has been a distraction to keep himself from thinking of her. But what has that done for him, truly? He still ends up thinking about her, regardless. It breaks my heart a bit that he called her his new hope and that he had to begin anew after that 🥺 it’s never good to put hope as a person but…I understand what he means and it hurts!

Seward comparing God to a “Great Recorder” who will “sum up his account” is so interesting to me! It’s cool to get an insight as to his perspective on religion and how he thinks of it in a more “logical” way (and I do understand he could just be using a metaphor here, but I do think this is his logic and that’s fun to think about lol).

Finally, I love that while he still feels hopeless and bogged down by the fact that all he has to look forward to is his work, he emphasizes that he’s not angry at Lucy *or* Arthur. He wants them to be happy! It doesn’t mean he won’t still be sad, though :(

In the end, he wants a cause like Renfield has — a “strong” one he can turn to that will give him “happiness”. Will that give him real happiness though? Because Renfield sure doesn’t seem happy after his illness today. I’m just saying…

That’s all for this one! Will be putting out the others soon — sorry for the late entry on this one.

#dr seward #r.m. renfield #dracula daily #novas notes #dracula #cw ableism mention #ableism mention #cw animal death mention #animal death ment tw #cw drugging #implied drugging

17 notes · View notes

doyouknowhowtowaltz · 1 month ago

Note

Hello, fellow pilgrim!! Two weeks ago I watched Over the Garden Wall for the first time, then went into the depths of the Internet for the content and accidentally flew straight into beastnoch! I swallowed a lot and am still digesting it; can u tell me where this came from? I am amazed and horrified at the same time!

Glad to welcome you into this lovely ship, though I would like to point out I am by no means the best source for the history of the ship since I've only been writing it for about 6 years, and the actual patron saints are right next door here on tumblr, but here's a breif history:

In december of 2014, @incurablenecromantic and @silkward are talking about potential ships in OTGW and Miss Inky jokingly suggests the Beast and Enoch, to which Mr. Silkward draws this. The endlessly creative @lacrimalis also makes a drawing, and in fact, has their own short-term history of the ship up to febuary 2015 that you can find here. Many of the tumblr links in this particular post are dead due to tumblr's horrible link system, though I could track down the images for you another day, as I think, even with very little context I can identify all but one of them just by the timeline. Shortly after Miss Inky writes Patient is the Night, and proceeds to cultivate this richly interesting ship over the next four years, and I could certainly talk about the early years of Beastnoch at great length, and the tropes, themes, and headcanons that were established during that time that have often worked their way into all subsequent works, and while I have a lot to say and I would love the excuse to talk about it some other time, the fact of the matter is that I was not there.

I found Beastnoch in late 2017, about two months after watching OTGW, and one month after the latest update to Grim Grinning Ghosts Come Out to Socialize. It was the last post to Ao3 for quite some time, and, not having a tumblr myself at the time, I didn't know that Beastnoch still had a community here on tumblr. I wrote my first Beastnoch fic roughly a year after under the assumption the ship's fans had passed on to greener fandoms. And the rest is rather easily traceable history.

If you're asking more in a broad sense "where did the idea to pair these two characters come from" Miss Inky would probably be the person to ask, though I could certainly speculate, the Beast and Enoch (and to a barely lesser extent the Queen of the Clouds) are these strangely explained psychopomps in their world, the Beast is closely assosiated with winter and Enoch with autumn, there's an interesting contrast and similarity in the fact that they both offer for Wirt (and greg) to stay with them, but in starkly different capacities, they've both got lovely singing voices, and there is the peculiar detail of the fact that the Beast's lantern is shown to be with Enoch at the end of OTGW.

Many a ship has been built on less and still been perfectly capable of floating on water, there's even another notable example in the otgw fandom itself, though admittedly, one can argue a precedent already existed for pinescone.

#I'm actualy not sure what Miss Silkward's proferred honorific is but I felt weird not to use one since I almost exclusively refer to #Miss Inky as Miss Inky.#With the exception of about twelve deleted fics and a couple deleted blogs #most of Dumb Gay Eldritch Psychopomps history is still in the places its always been

13 notes · View notes

femme-enby · 7 months ago

Text

Do not attack me, but I have a fanfic update-

So, after waking up after a shift & having another one tonight, I realized a few things…

1) I really miss my seasonal haunt job

2) I really miss spooky season

3) since I’ve never before in my life written a fanfic, or any type of writing that included conversation aside from quotes in essays, I might be better off writing possibly the most self-indulgent BS ever as practice (NOT instead of!!!)

Plus it would give any feral readers some advice, as much like myself, some of y’all are probably decent at analyzing other’s writing. Even if you’re not tho or don’t think you are, when I finally (probably within the week) start posting chapters, I welcome all advice! Just… please, remember I’ve NEVER done this before, so it’s probably gonna be a little bit all over the place and kinda rough.

Sooo…

I’ve kinda already started…?

Summary- you want a seasonal job, (subject to change, considering Fazbear DID try to make a whole haunt attraction with no indication that THAT was seasonal… or maybe I will simply ignore the fact that time is a thing that passes. Who knows.) so after moving you apply at the local haunt. Shenanigans, shitty customers, some animatronics are there, notably two jesters. What could go wrong? (Probably not much, this is for me to indulge & my indulgences are very relaxed)

Similar to the last offering- we will be wooing the jesters, some friends to lovers perchance (we completely ignore the general advice to never date a fellow haunt actor, which exists bc at heart even if not in reality almost all haunt actors are theater kids and that leads to drama) aaaand idk.

I just wanna be a haunt actor rn instead of my typical job, and I DESPERATELY need practice before I dive into a more proper, structured fanfic.

This is gonna be cringe. It’s gonna be goofy. It’s gonna be wordy bc I need practice on… NOT, being INCREDIBLY over explanatory. It’s not that I think my readers are dumb, it’s that I got that tism in me and I over analyze and over explain EVERYTHING.

But!!! If you’ve ever been curious about how being a haunt actor works, what it’s like, etc. then you’ll know how it works (at least from my experience) intimately well.

That being said…

I’ll be doing some research on other haunts for more location ideas, bc while Sun & Moon are pretty easy (EVERYWHERE has clowns. Can’t have a haunt without clowns) the others might give me some trouble… but I also REALLY want to include them, not just bc they’re awesome but also bc it would be good practice for my other fanfic, so I can get a general idea on how I want to write them…

I know my haunt had a more “country” attraction, and Monty’s backstory seemed to portray him as more of a rural gator… but idk. Maybe the difference from his attraction vs his true/current personality is workable tho.

My haunt also had a… food focused, of sorts… attraction, where ofc it would be easy to put Chica…

But WTF do I do with Roxy? Or Freddy???

That will be a problem for another day.

#ryan rambles #fnaf sb #fnaf security breach #fnaf au #fnaf fandom #fnaf fanfic #fnaf sun #fnaf sun and moon #fnaf sun x reader #fnaf sun x y/n #fnaf moon #fnaf moondrop #fnaf moon x reader #fnaf moon x y/n

18 notes · View notes

wa-royal-tea · 1 year ago

Text

I'm back! Kinda + What I've been up to + Timezone Change, Story Posting Update

Heyyyy thur guys! I’m back, kinda. Sorry it took me a while to update you guys on what I’ve been working on, life has been extra busy since July 31st for me 💀 I won't post a story update yet as I still have things to do but I mightttt return by the end of September.

If you wanna know what I've been up to, read under the cut. Just a warning, it's pretty long 💀

I have an update on what I've been working on irl and it's kind of an exciting news, at least for me lol. So, in case anyone is wondering what I've been up to, I'm actually preparing to further my Masters overseas and this plan has been a wip since last year. I've been studying for my IELTS because the universities I've applied to requires me to take it. And then I had my graduation ceremony for my Bachelor's Degree after waiting for SO long bcs of Covid. It was one of the happiest day in my life bcs I got the Vice Chancellor's award!!! Sorry for the bragging there, I'm just so proud of myself :') I worked my ass off to maintain my CGPA every semester so getting that award really felt like all of that hard work was worth it :')

After all that is done, I applied to the Uni's that I wanted and surprisingly, all the Uni's I applied to gave me an offer which is pretty neat! I accepted one of the offers and then I had to look for a sponsorship.

I kept it a hush-hush kind of thing and only told several of my close friends about what I was planning to do bcs it was something that I wasn't sure that I'll be getting so anytime that I was taking a "break", I was actually working on this in the background (had to attend zoom interviews with the Uni's. Doing the tasks in order to get an interview invite etc.). It was a stressful process but yeah, this is what I've had planned for me when I was younger so I was determined to make it happen no matter what! Your girl is not one to give up easily! 😤

So around June this year, the sponsorship that I've been aiming for opened and I applied for it, got the results that I had been offered a full-ride sponsorship on July 31st and everything became so busy for me because I had to prepare the necessary documents to be sent to the sponsorship board. It was an exhausting process as I had to make sure that everything is prepared perfectly so there wouldn't be any problems and so far, alhamdulillah, everything has been going well. I had my visa done, I secured a place to stay during the duration of my studies, all the documents were sent at the end of last week. But preparing all of these took a toll on my energy and I simply don't have the energy to open my game or even open blender to work on my story. But I have been writing the scripts and all so yeah, the story is still running in the background. I did find some little time to work on poses but I worked on a few before I stopped because I was too tired hahaha.

Anyways, only a few people knew what I was working on while I was on this break. Shoutout to Miss Wheat knee and Gigi for being patient with me replying to their discord messages late everyday 😭 And thank you for giving me your emotional support and encouragement! A huge thank you to both Miss Devilled Eggs and Wheat knee for helping me in my process of applying to the Uni's from helping me brush up my English for my IELTS during one of our previous calls, and for helping me with my Piece to Camera video practice for my Uni interviews. I really, greatly, am thankful to you guys for that. And to Wheat knee, thank you for believing in me when I was overthinking stuff thinking I wouldn't get the offers sfkhskl I really appreciate you for that 😢

And with that, I would like to update you guys that my posting time will be changing as I will be moving to London for my studies. So my timezone will no longer be GMT+8 :') It will be GMT+1 as of September 28th. Aside from that, my postings won't be regular too, I'll be updating whenever I can as I'll probably be busy with my studies and all. So, wish me luck! I'm a bit anxious about this so I hope I'll do well :')

Thank you to all my readers who are still there for me since day 1, you all are the best! And sorry that the story will take a while to be completed, I'll try my best to still work on it bcs I love it too much to just leave it like that 😭

That's all I guess! Thank you again for reading this if you are reading it lol.

Love,

Nina ❤

#WRTOOC #update #yes I have a month before I leave for my studies but I want to spend this last few weeks with my family and friends!#I'll still be around reading stuff!#tbh I'm so scared of telling ppl what I've been up to irl #me telling ppl about what I'm currently doing with my life feels so scary #but i want to share with you all! 😭#I'm just so scared of ppl using what I do irl to make fun of me behind my back #so I rarely talk about my personal life with anyone bcs the worries about ppl using it against me terrifies me

64 notes · View notes

annakie · 3 months ago

Text

Fixing The House, Part Eight: Master of Bathrooms

Part One: I Do Not, In Fact, Have the Power

Part Two: Let’s Spend Lots of Money!

Part Three: All These Things That I’ve Done

Part Four: I Really Want to Stay At My House

A little interlude.

Part Five: Power Down

Part Six: You Will Leave Some Paint

Part Seven: Backwards to go Forwards

Thought a lot the last couple of days about what to start posting about next and I think I'm ready to show y'all the Master Bathroom. Then who knows what else next update.

I was surprised that a house this small (1100 square feet!) had two full baths. That's kind of a lie... the master bathroom shower/tub was uhhhhh... not a full tub? It was truly a size that I had not seen before. I honestly don't know where they would have even gotten the tub. Maybe it was custom built? I'm sure it was from the 60's.

Posted a couple of "Just bought the house" pics above. Let's take a look through the last 21 years of this bathroom and how we got where it is today.

TBH this post is ridiculously long for the smallest room in the house, oh well.

It's not a big bathroom at all. It fit the three things you need for the requirement of full bath, sure, but that's about it. And, of course, everything in it was original to the house built in 1963 or AT BEST it's possible from the 1980's.

It was also, ya know, gross.

I posted this in the previous update but that's the wallpaper I was met with. It had a barebones mirror, and NGL, I did kinda like this lighting? Honestly, it kinda ruled. I miss it a little. That was the only good thing in this room.

It's a bathroom with a window that looks out on the patio, and that window has always been gross and cloudy.

Even today, that window is there, Arturo promises me the new one should be in next week, so I will probably post another pic or two once that comes in.

I think the pics now posted in here are the only ones I have of the original.

With my near-zero budget after buying the house, all I could really afford to do in here was clean it as good as possible, new shower curtain and rug, and slap some fresh paint on it after taking down the wallpaper, which I believe was very easy in here, at least. I don't remember a struggle.

The original color scheme I went with was purple and green, basically to honor my paternal grandmother, who had recently passed and those were her colors.

Oh also put up this very cheap little shelf in lieu of a medicine cabinet.

lol look at that joke of a shower. The showerhead and shower caddy were also new.

A like $5 thrifted little Van Gogh print, the height of sophistication I could afford. (It's actually STILL THERE, RIGHT NOW. I really DO love it.)

Ugh, those green blinds. Hey at least the window was covered with SOMETHING!

I was very, very proud of myself, I put that together and put it up all by myself.

It's still up!

So that's what it looked like late 2003 until 2012.

Around 2005 I started realizing that if took a shower for too long, water started leaking out from the wall under the window under the trim. Yep I'd shower and then the floor would be flooded.

I just stopped taking showers in there.

Honestly the tub ended up being storage. I kept the cats carriers in there so I could get them in there and then get them in their carriers without much problem. Anytime I fostered cats, it became the stray/foster cat room until they trusted me enough to let me pet them.

It was essentially a half-bath for the last like 18 years.

In 2012 when my parents and I did bathroom renovations, things got better!

Ooh, much prettier!

I had been thinking about selling the house so the purple and green were changed to beige, to match the sink. Fixtures all went to brushed nickel, and a much bigger, taller and nicer toilet. Also new towels, rug, etc. Kept the same shower curtain for then, but in the next year or so I changed it.

Accent over the shower, on the small wall by the toilet and on the windowsill was a brownish orange. And kept light green for all the linens.

Yeah the window like I said is still that terrible window, FOR NOW.

Also... did y'all notice anything missing?

LIKE SOMEWHERE TO PLUG IN A HAIRDRYER OR LITERALLY ANYTHING!?! A bathroom... without an outlet. When I had roommates, I'd have to blow dry my hair in front of my vanity in my bedroom. So annoying.

So one of the original like 5 things Arturo was brought in to do, that kicked off everything else was to put an outlet in that bathroom. It's on a wall that isn't as convenient as I'd like it to be, but Arturo has A Technological Reason it has to be there, so I'll take it. With the rewiring, it's also surge protected, so even though it's not as great as I want it, it's a small compromise I can live with.

---

I didn't take a single picture of consequence in the master bath in the next 12 years or so. Honestly sometimes I'd go a month or two without even going in there.

For the years when Patchy lived in the master bedroom this was a little extra space for her, but she rarely went in there.

The other purpose it served was the place where I kept the bag of food for the outside cats. Sometimes also extra kitty litter space, overflow medicine, TP etc. space... but all in all it was pretty neglected space for a long time. I'd clean in there once every six months maybe to mostly get rid of dust. I only used it either in the middle of the night, or when Patchy was alive to spend a few extra moments with her while taking a bathroom break.

At one point a few years ago I tried turning on the shower just to see what would happen and I couldn't even get the knobs to move.

---

Getting this bathroom fixed up was secondary to the hall bath, since that was the main bath. So when I showed Arturo the bathrooms to see what he thought, I stressed that this one was not important, maybe just if he could get the knobs working and knew why the water would flow out from the wall.

But his price was so good, of course I wanted to get both done.

Since we needed one bathroom to work, and this was the one most fucked up, he started there, as the first project they'd do after the electricity was mostly put back together and working.

---

I hadn't even noticed the demo had started (remember most of the work was happening while I was also working, like, my job, even though it's WFH!) and so the first time I walked by the bathroom and saw this I honestly wanted to weep with joy.

The fiberglass... the weird-ass tub... gone. Just a hole where it all was, and a hole in the ground as well. They dug through the cement and dirt underneath to figure out what the hell was wrong with the plumbing.

Welllllllllllllllllllllll... it turns out what the hell was wrong with it was that it wasn't connected to the sewer.

Like... the pipe was just draining right into the ground. And when the ground was saturated, the water crept up into the wall and came out that way!

Arturo told me it was a really good thing I'd stopped using that shower. I'd managed to avoid a dangerous and costly black mold problem.

So, Arturo fixed it and hooked the plumbing back up to the sewer.

He replaced all the piping you see exposed there.

There was no shower pan in the really fucking weird size of that space, so Arturo had to build the new walk-in shower with cement. He made a mold, poured cement both for the little wall and the new floor, and for a few days, we left a fan pointed at it and let it cure.

---

Also the reason for that one square out of the accent wall was Arturo wanted to see if there was any wasted space in that intersection where the back of the fridge, the back of the hall bath and the shower/toilet area of the master were all kind of meeting up. Turns out... nope. All the space was used. It got patched, you can't even tell there was a hole there now, you'll see.

You'll also notice there's a curtain on the window. Like I said, I'd found a new shower curtain set I really liked not long after the 2012 renovation. I also picked up the matching rug. And I liked it so much that I bought a second one that my mom made into a curtain for the window! With the extra material, she made a curtain for her own bathroom window.

So it came time to pick out new colors for the bath, I spent a lot of time with my BFF Sherwin Williams Swatch Book. After awhile, I went all in on using the colors from the shower curtain as the colors for the room.

(I also spent a few hours scouring the internet for a backup shower curtain and FINALLY found one on Ebay in great condition. Considering I bought it around 2013 I was thrilled. It's now in the linen closet waiting for the day when this one gets a little rough. It's fine now, remember I'd never even taken a shower while this shower curtain was in the room. I'm still looking for a backup rug. Anyway, back to paint.)

Contented was a shade darker than the curtain, maybe a little greener, but I fell in love with that color and wanted to use a soft green as the standout color, because the tile and wood in the room weren't changing. The Bathroom would be very beige and brown, green would keep it from being too beige and brown.

And I fell in love with Llama Wool the moment I saw it. I know you should never let a color's name influence your decision, it's just what some person at Sherwin-Williams (in this case) decided to call it, but Llamas are sort of a thing with my friend group, and I wanted to use that color as a bit of a tribute to them. It was, again, a shade or two darker than the brown in the shower curtain, but I thought it'd look great.

----

I'm not posting pictures until THE REVEAL because of THE DRAMA, okay? I think it'll be worth it.

Arturo brought a sample of the ceramic main shower tile, 89c per really big piece. It was beige, would match the floor OK, and was perfectly neutral. It was great, a place we could get some savings so there'd be more money for important things.

Accent Tile was another big thing for me. I had always, always, always wanted mosaic accent tile in the shower and above the sink. I tried to get my dad to do some during the 2012 renovation but he said no, that was too much work for that weekend. So I was determined to use accent tile I loved.

Arturo had brought me a couple of samples and I'd okayed two of them, but they'd yet to be bought past that. One of them I loved and had marked it for the hall bath, the other I'd thought was fine, and thought I'd put it in the master.

And slowly my mind changed.

First I thought the one I loved would work better with the shower curtain and Llama wool. It was $15 sq/ft, which was definitely on the higher end of the budget, but it was worth it, and putting it in the master would mean we'd just need less of it.

(Arturo said we spent about as much on the main tile as we did 2 pieces of the accent tile lol)

And then Arturo told me I needed to find a tile for the shower floor, and I should go to Home Depot and/or Lowes and find something.

TBH, I spent time on both of their websites, then went to Amazon. I'd been browsing a lot of like, Pinterest and just google results of bathroom renovations and knew I wanted a pebble-style tile for the floor. I couldn't find exactly the right thing to match with the accent tile I adored for the master.

And then I looked on Amazon.

And I fell in love instantly. Without consulting Arturo, I bought five boxes of it at almost $90 a box. I didn't care. I had to have this.

I showed it to Arturo on Monday and he was like "YES. PERFECT. I'm glad you didn't wait, let's get started." Unfortunately only 3 boxes had shown up that day so it was a couple of days delay.

Next was picking out a grout that would work with the wall tile and accent tile and floor tile.

I picked a light beige one, the color of sand, on purpose, hoping it would fit my vision for the shower floor.

I also had to pick out shower fixtures... a showerhead/controls. Arturo suggested something to me, and it aligned with what I also really wanted. It was another place where I decided it was OK to splurge.

The shower was a non-entity to me for so long... I wanted it to be perfect.

---

One day, I think it was a Saturday, I walked by the shower as the tile was going up and uh, I noticed that the main tile was going awfully high and realized that the guy installing it had forgotten about the accent tile. The accent was just one stripe around face-high. I stopped him as politely as I could in my slight panic and called Arturo. Also, I just realized, Arturo had yet to create the shelf, which would also include the accent tile.

Luckily, the mud was still fresh on the wall, and only two rows had to come out. The tile could also be salvaged after cleaning off the back. Arturo got there later that day and got the shelf made. A day or two later, the accent tile went on and a few days later, the shower was finished.

Okay enough words... here's the first pic of the finished shower.

Y'all.. I love it so much. SO. MUCH. Rainfall showerhead, a sprayer hose... the floor looks like you're walking on a sandy beach. I literally wanted to weep with joy... idk I might have, when I saw it all together like this the first time.

Still lots to do, but that night was the night I posted the little interlude where I talked about how so much is happening and how I had no time.

When work was done that day, I was so excited to take a shower.

And then my shower curtain rod was now too long, even at the minimum size, since the tile had added like an extra inch.

I wasn't deterred. I went to Home Depot, then Lowe's, then Target trying to find a shower curtain rod I loved to replace the old one. Each place only had shitty cheap rods and none were brushed nickle. So I bought a $7 rod (and a new curtain liner) and a few other things like shelf liner at Target... then went home and ordered a rod I loved on Amazon. When that was done, I took my first shower in the master bath in like 18 years.

And it was fucking MAGICAL. It was like being in a spa. I showered maybe longer than I'd ever showered in my life, definitely the longest I've ever showered in this house.

To me, for the last 20 years, showers were a fucking CHORE that I had to get through. You'll see when I talk about the hall bath more about why. I just absolutely hated showering -- not the getting clean part, obviously, but just being in the shower, either shower, in my house. I wanted to get out ASAP.

I just stood there and was like... I love being in here. This is the most beautiful part of my house right now. I want to stay in here.

I washed my hair twice. I moved my facewash in there to have more to just do in the shower.

It's like going to the spa, every night.

I'd bought new towels, Turkish bathsheets. Huge, soft, absorbent.

Luxury.

Something I never thought I'd associate with my house.

My shower was beautiful. Maybe the first thing I'd ever really associated with that word in this house.

I look forward to my nightly shower now.

I'm using getting to go take it as a reward for finishing this post. :D

---

(Oh, oops, I forgot to show you the shelf! Btw, did you notice the COPPER in the backsplash? Have I mentioned I love copper? You have no idea how much I love copper. Just you wait.)

The one thing that I didn't love was that little shower head on the hose. It had nearly no pressure. So I ordered two new sprayer heads, one for each shower. Much better. And this one has a switch you can flip for a high-pressure sprayer hose to help clean the shower/tub easier. Not as sleek, but very worth it.

A few days later I walked by and smelled paint. Peeked in and uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh....

....someone had painted the bathroom.

The Wrong color.

It was painted the same peachy color as the master bedroom, not my Contented green (and no sign of Llama Wool!) Arturo facepalmed and pointed out the right color to his worker.

This is wrong and bad and LOOKS TERRIBLE.

Eventually, it was painted right and I loooooved it.

Also hey, there's the new outlet! See, not that convenient, but livable. I can recharge my toothbrush with the stand on the windowsill, and a hair dryer plugs in there just fine. Way better than none!

The dumb little shelf came out. We literally ran out of the accent tile with ONE MORE TO GO at the edge of the sink. Then our local Lowe's was out of it. And then the one near Arturo's house was out of it. I refreshed the Lowe's website for like two weeks until it was back in stock, and one Saturday ran straight over there, picked up the one tile and a couple of other things I needed, and it sat here in the house a couple more weeks. Just this week it got put on and grouted, lol. SO NOW at least I can show you pics of the sink area, too!

---

Beige Turkish hand towel (tbh they are like half the size of a regular towel, I love it.) The same decent cabinet as before but now elevated by its surroundings. Beautiful backsplash keeping the wall safe.

Oh, and that faucet?

My old faucet... the plunger part was broken so it would no longer close and the sink wouldn't hold water. Arutro was all "Oh, I have one in my shed you can just have." So he threw that in for free. It's a Delta! FOR FREE! He even installed it for free.

Y'all, I have so much to say about Arturo, he's amazing.

Now the faucet is chrome and the rest of the bathroom fixtures are brushed nickel, but tbh, I don't care. It works, and it looks nice, and it's a well-respected brand, and it was free. I'm HERE FOR IT.

Also,notice the wall color... I am very content with Contented. It's just the right amount of color against all the beige and brown.

And yes, the medicine cabinet has a place where you can insert your own photo under the glass, and YES I have had that medicine cabinet since 2012 and YES IT STILL HAS THE "Insert your own 8x10 photo here!" paper in it. LIKE I SAID this room was neglected. I am happy to report that I have ordered an art print I like that will be in there in a few days.

----

There were a couple of other improvements here. A new overhead light went in, replacing the old overhead light, this one has a fan. Yeah, there was no fan in this bathroom before, lol. And LED lighting. It's much brighter and nicer.

I also got a very basic bidet for both toilets. That just went in a couple of days ago and I am still getting used to it. It's COLD, didn't get a fancy heated one.

One thing we're going to talk about later is the trim and doors and stuff throughout the house. This is the only room that retained the Cream color that I used to have throughout the house as the trim.

You can really see the difference in this pic. Also, Fry!

There's an amusing story about the cream color on the trim that belongs elsewhere, that and the window were the reasons I'd been holding off talking about this room for awhile but, eh, screw it. You can see the windowsill and trim on the floor are that cream, so is the inside of the door. The shelf above the toilet also got painted that color, and it all blends really well I think. I painted the windowsill, door and the cabinet myself.

And yes, the floors need a real good cleaning. They ALL do. There's paint splatters and various other stains all over all the floors. I'm going to tackle all of it at once, when everything is done. No point in having to do it multiple times.

So here's the finished product, all that stuff all done and the Llama Wool color on the accent wall!

This pic I just took tonight, for this post. The bathroom is more or less complete.

I love it. It went from the room non grata to one of my favorite places in the house. And when I post this, I'm off to take a spa-like shower in it before enjoying a dessert and a couple of hours of TV time before bed.

My only regret is that I really wanted to use the Llama Wool color more. I wanted to do the windowsill and trim in that color but Arturo insisted he'd have to buy a different kind of paint for it, which would be an extra expenditure I couldn't justify, especially since we already had the right kind of paint in the old cream color and it also looked great in there. I honestly almost felt bad for having him buy a whole can of paint just for that one tiny accent wall, but I don't regret it! I tried to think of other places in the house it could have been used but... there aren't any, really.

Thank you, btw, for coming along on these extremely long, self-indulgent posts with me. They're largely written so I can look back at this time and marvel and what Arturo and I did, and how a lot of money and work was all worth it. This bathroom is just one course of several of what's to come! There are three (or four) other rooms that I now love just as much as this one. :)

#personal post tag thingy #fixing the house #fixing my house #btw if you want me to alert you when I post one of these lmk and I'll PM you a share when I do

12 notes · View notes