#i should probably start a tag for these little snippets because i wanna find them more easily | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dramarising-replacement · 4 years ago

Text

G1 Hoarder Revamp and the Mountain of Salt

Can we all just acknowledge how much of a total fuck up the new G1 ping system is? I feel bad because they obviously went through so much work and beta testing for this system but it’s absolutely garbage in practice. This isn’t meant as a huge roast (even though I do think the creators could do with getting knocked down a few pegs given how poorly they’ve treated people through this entire process, oops) but I hope they at least see this and see things that they can work on. Obviously, going to them and sharing this stuff in person isn’t possible since L from arcane is notorious for gossiping and overall not super trustworthy, so anon route we go. I’ll give credit where credit is due: they definitely tried to go on the right path and the coding is good in theory. The big issue here is that they tried to fix something that was not great but worked with something that is not great and barely works. Sure there are some good things about the new ping system: if it’s not busy it’s not longer than six or seven minutes to do all of it for a few dragons, which, compared to the previous method? Pretty good timing. Helps automatically tag some colorgroups without having people confused about if their dragon counts or not, and uh... probably something else. The cons far outweigh the pros though: -sheet can only be used one at a time: terrible in theory, terrible in practice, there’s no queue system either so you’re not even guaranteed to go next even if you’ve been waiting ages. This becomes a nightmare around any holiday, as we’ve seen around notn, since everyone flocks to the ping generator and then quickly abandons after seeing the mess there. This should have been something that they found a way to work with from the start, especially since the previous spreadsheet, despite how long it took to sift through if you were actually assed to do all the specifics, could still be used by multiple people. -userface issues: going into the spreadsheet and it may all just be blank, does this mean someone’s using it? Someone isn’t? If you go ahead and assume not you’re going to get warned that you overrode someone since they get the ID to your dragon, if you don’t assume then you end up waiting for ages like an idiot and someone else swoops up the opportunity. The loading bar on the side doesn’t help give that info either since it constantly reloads due to the poorly planned code. Where users have their cells selected also doesn’t help since that isn’t always accurate. There are many times where the loading bar isn’t seen going, there isn’t any visible text on the screen, no comment in the box, but it’s still in use. This isn’t viable for anyone, especially not people who don’t fully understand how the system works. If you’re going to make it for only one person’s use at a time, you need to ensure it’s easier to see what’s going on for everyone. -laggy as all get out: sure, I don’t have to go through 15 pages of different types of pings on the old G1 pinglist and shovel through all the duplicates and specifics list people, but having more than 13 dragons or even doing a bigger lair sale (or even just anything during notn) means you get to wait for the program to chug away for ages (as well as the easy chance for someone to just cut in halfway through a load and have you start all over again or wait) and hope that the three people behind you don’t get impatient or angry as you have to do three separate input sessions rather than massing them all together as you could with the previous spreadsheet. -poorly designed aesthetically: maybe this may sound petty to some, but the design of the system is pretty terrible in terms of layout and color choice. This isn’t to say it’s just ugly though; after speaking about it with people who aren’t neurotypical, have disordered thinking processes, and/or have generalized issues reading things (autism spectrum, dyslexia, semi-visually impaired, etc.) it’s pretty clear that the entire thing is not accessible whatsoever for anyone who can’t immediately decipher what anything is. Black text on bright red is not a good thing for most people beyond old MySpace edgies. If you, as someone without reading or comprehension difficulties, are having a difficult time focusing on it: maybe consider how difficult it’d be for anyone else. The way the rules or tutorial section is laid out also does not help in terms of accessibility! It’s clunky and hard to read, does not flow well, and doesn’t explain as thoroughly as you may think. If you’re someone who uses coded spreadsheets often? Yeah sure, it might be understood. If you’re not? Welp. Good luck kiddo. -very poor user help: this is on the mods or creators more than the spreadsheet itself. If someone has a problem, the first thing you should do is talk with them to find the difficulty and tackle it from there. I’ve seen, multiple times now, where either N (plague) or L (arcane) straight up tell people that they can’t help them and that they should just read the guide on the front page. Like sure, they read them, but something is tricky for them and they’re asking for help. They can read the rules and guide again but without outside help, guess what? Not gonna help them. If you just keep linking them the forum or telling them to read the first page it won’t actually help anyone! One of your jobs as the creators here is to help the community that you made it for, not just parrot that they need to read. Be better. Add that to a system which is not forgiving of any mistakes whatsoever and it becomes a terrible little cocktail. Also does not help that, despite their sugar attitude about having people test it in discord servers, the creators l and r/p (both arcane) don’t actually help people who need help using it. -wait times/queue: this ties in to an earlier point, but there’s no way to organize who goes next. Sure, it might sound strange, but when you have to wait ages to get access despite you being there ahead of anon llama/drama/dingdong/animal because they can all hop in ahead of you, it becomes frustrating. People don’t always type in that itty bitty box to say what they’re doing, and people easily erase it or write over it, or they just outright ignore it. Obviously not everyone is going to do that, but it’s way too easy for people who are greedy/entitled to step over those who are being polite and patient. -no quick ping options this is also kind of minor, but at least with the old spreadsheet you could just click in and say “okay, I just want to ping XXY general for this because I have a quick sale.” Guess what: nah. You have to go through the entire chugging process and queue and everything else just to get that snippet of information on who to ping. What once took maybe five clicks is now five minutes to thirty depending on how many people are using it. Wanna quick check if a dragon with XYZ colours you hatched is one that someone wants specifically? Nah, fuck you. You have to input all the data and wait instead of just doing what was once a super easy quick search. There is so much other shit wrong with this system and I’m honestly surprised N (plague) allowed them to do this. Sure, the old pinglist could have done with some updating, but that should have been done in the form of clearing redundant double pings, maybe a way to sort through specifics like ‘male only’ and mass copy names there. Quality of life things, not this just... total mess. I understand that L and R/P got it into their heads that they needed to fix it and that they wanted to take over the entire system themselves, but they should have kept their pride out of it for once. The sheet to input what dragons you want is also another entire nightmare. It’s frustrating to go through the google poll a dozen times to say exactly what colors/eyes/gender/pasta-shape/siesta-fiesta under the sun you want rather than have a quick way to input it by drop-downs or even just a text based option like the old one had. It’s so easy to forget what you put in or which one you want to put in this time, so easy to end up making mistakes that you don’t see, etc. It’s just not an effective system. It’s great in theory, and sure, it’s all sparkly and new, but it’s like admiring an aluminum trash can. Shiny and sparkly under the sun, still holding a whole lot of hot garbage though. I understand that some people may find it easier, and that’s great! I’ve used it for a few things and yeah, it’s okay, but I wish the old one was back given all the grief and frustration this one has caused. Obviously I’m not in the place to be like DO THIS OR DO THAT since I’m not the one making the sheet here, but I do feel like the people who use it have every right to give commentary and feedback where possible. Even moreso when the creators and team aren’t actually as welcoming as they try to appear to be. As much as it sucks, a lot of L and R/P’s (primarily L) false niceties have kind of come to the surface lately which makes this whole situation just that much more awkward. If people don’t feel like they can approach you because they know you’ll rip into them here or on the anon site immediately, maybe you shouldn’t be a main creator of something for the user base or a mod for a bigger group. Just some side-thought to all this other stuff. Big post, big rambles, I can’t bring myself to organise it though because I’m pretty fed up and tired. Take from this what you may, but basically fix your shit new G1 Hoarder peeps.

#Drama #Rant #Flight Rising #Long post #Shady #User #submission

54 notes · View notes

lvllns · 4 years ago

Text

snippet sunday!

oh boy, i got tagged by @queerbrujas, @impossible-rat-babies, and @native-mason! thank u all so much for the tags 🥺🥺 idk who’s been tagged and who hasn’t, but if u see this and have something you wanna share, you’re tagged now.

hands you more felix and kincaid bc we all know what i’m about at this point, and it’s them.

—

Kincaid pokes his head into the bedroom, looking around until he spots Felix. “Hey, can you grab my toothbrush from my bag for me?”

Felix hums as he slips off the bed, stretching until his back cracks in a few places. “Which pocket?”

“Huh?” He looks over his shoulder and finds Kincaid staring at him with half-lidded eyes. He shakes his head. Clears his throat and says, “Um, should be the one on the inside of the...flap?”

“Oh my God.” Felix snorts. “Cade.”

“What? What’s it called then? A door?” Arms cross over his chest and Felix’s eyes catch on the tattoos, his biceps, the metal glittering where it sits in his skin. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Go do whatever, I’ll get your toothbrush.” He flaps a hand in Kincaid’s direction until he disappears from view.

He unzips the suitcase and just starts rummaging around. Digging and displacing whatever he comes across. The toothbrush isn’t where Kincaid said it was, not surprising. Felix keeps looking and looking and looking until—

Something hard knocks against his fingers.

Something hard, small, and square and—

Felix swallows as he moves a pair of socks out of the way and yeah. Yep. That is exactly what he thought it was. A tiny little box. Probably not a ring box. Maybe. He swallows again. Looks down at his hand and realizes it’s shaking, a fine tremor to the tips of his fingers. It’s not like they haven’t talked about getting engaged and marriage, they’ve been together for five years now.

Still.

It’s one thing to talk about it and another to have...to have physical evidence that the person he loves wants to spend the rest of his life with him.

He must sit there doing nothing for too long because he hears Kincaid ask, “Fee? Darlin’?” and then a choked noise when Felix sits back on his heels, the box held gingerly in his hand. “Ah fuck.”

#reed.txt #writing tag #the 5 years is subject to change still #i think i might knock it down to 2 tbh #i’m still trying to sort out how long kincaid ‘i would marry felix after 2 months of dating’ anderson would wait given the circumstances #5 years seems.......too long but i might be able to pull it off lmao #this is fine to rb as well if u want

13 notes · View notes

blarrghe · 4 years ago

Text

Wip Wednesday

thanks @morganlefaye79 for taggin me! This is something I’ve had ready to shove into Twelve Nights for a while now, and it’s a little heavy-handed but I also think it’s maybe the most important point this (ultimately very fluffy) story makes, and preachy DA character therapizing is pretty on brand for me at this point. So CW for discussions of trauma and addiction, because I aint about to romanticize that shit lol if I introduce a character with a somewhat tropey substance problem we go there. Anyway this is an incredibly long snippet but if you read nothing else from this particular fic, I think you should read this.

Under a cut -- alcoholism/addiction, the ways conversion therapy fucks a person up.

as well as some mutuals if y’all wanna: @midnightprelude @aymayzing @fandomn00blr @protect-him @barbex I love seeing your wips :)

"Hey," Taren spoke slowly, concern crossing his brows like it did sometimes, when he looked at him, "I don't know how to ask this, but," a very loud voice in the back of Dorian's head told him to shout “so don't!”. He managed to restrain it. Taren shifted his weight and played with his lackluster hair while he figured out how to ask the thing that Dorian already knew he was worried about. "Is this okay?"

"You mean, am I okay." Dorian corrected, as he took a sip of the whiskey. It was delicious. Everything was delicious; stupidly wonderful and probably a dream, and they needn’t talk about things that weren’t.

Taren nodded, the concern still swimming in his gaze. "You don't have a…"

"A problem," Dorian supplied, finishing the thought for him while Taren swallowed, "with alcohol."

"Sera said you were in rehab." Taren was apologetic again, looking away with his hand back in his hair. Dorian laughed, because he couldn't help himself, but it just made the concern in Taren's brows deepen. He attempted to reign it in. He supposed he would just have to do this conversation Taren's way: honest.

"I was. Several times actually, but my problem's never been with alcohol." He picked a few more things off the cart while he spoke — apricot brandy, gin, and vermouth — pouring them in careful measure into a tall, stainless steel cocktail shaker. "It's with attention." He winked. Just because the conversation had to be honest didn't mean he had to give up all his charms. "You see, I've made some very unhealthy, very loud, very irresponsible cries for it. In response to which my parents usually tried to throw me into someplace expensive with nice clean white walls and scenic views, to fix me."

He picked out a wonderfully green lime from the selection of citrus fruits in a little glass bowl on the cart and began rolling it against the cutting board.

"They've spent an outrageous amount of money, trying to get other people to help me be normal." Taren was frowning at him, so he went on looking at the lime.

There was a small, silicone knife that matched the cutting board tucked into a special spot on the cart. He picked it up and sliced the lime in half, lengthwise, and gave its middle a little slit.

"Sometimes there would be a measure of religious fervour to go with: control your demons through strict routine and mind numbing repetition of verses! Doesn’t work, by the way, and anyone who says it does has more illicit secrets to keep than I do. But the quacks parroting fixes with pseudoscientific backing were the worst.” he shook his head, unable to contain a dark grimace from escaping at even this most casual retelling. “The last time though, I did actually learn something rather helpful." Taren came closer, and took a seat on the arm of the long leather couch closest to him, still watching Dorian with a careful frown as he told his story and sliced his lime. "There was this therapist, beautiful man," he looked up from the lime, catching Taren's frown and doing his best to counter it with a sly smile. "Understood right away what I was really in for —" he smiled at Taren again, dragging as much syrupy charm through the words as he possibly could, "that is, being attracted to men, not drugs or alcohol." Taren blushed, and satisfied, Dorian went back to fixing his drink, "we struck up a wonderful little friendship, or as much of one as therapists can have with the mad, I suppose."

"Did you…" There was a hesitancy to Taren's speech that was different from the last, less concerned, and barbed with something. Was it jealousy? And if so, what did it say about him that he quite enjoyed it?

"No." He said truthfully, "that would have been most unethical. I don't even think he was interested, if you can believe it. Didn't stop me from daydreaming of course — rehab is terribly boring. But no, nothing happened except talk. Therapeutic talk; he told me about rats."

"Rats?"

Dorian finished slicing one half of the lime into perfect little crescents, then squeezed out the other half into the shaker. "Lab rats with addictions to opiates." He clarified, "the Cage Theory of Addiction: give a rat a terrible little cage with a nice little lever that injects a drug straight into his little rat veins, and he'll keep pressing and pressing that lever until he dies." Taren looked upset; Dorian closed the shaker and screwed its cap tightly on, and continued, "the rat has a food lever too, but he ignores it, pressing and pressing for that magical buzz. More and more; more than he can handle. An addict." He picked out a short glass and swiped the rim of it with one of his slices of lime, then overturned it into a perfectly sized little vessel of sugar that was set out on the cart. "But, someone thought: let's do an experiment, and instead of just giving the rat a lever for food and a lever for the drug, they gave him a little rat city. With fun rat playgrounds and soft rat pillows and a few other nice rats to talk to. Guess what happened next."

Taren just looked at him, not guessing. Dorian tutted and gave the shaker a dramatic spin, shook it, and then popped the lid back off to pour the concoction into the glass. "The little opiate-addicted rat got better. So comes the theory: the rat's problem wasn't the drugs; it was his cage." Taren nodded slowly, and Dorian left the drink cart to join him on the couch. He passed Taren the fresh cocktail with another sly smile, and took a seat. “I looked it up later; read the study myself because I am an insufferable know-it-all,” he went on, “and it turns out that my beautiful therapist had some of his facts wrong.” Now, Taren just looked confused, but if Dorian was going to be honest with him, he was going to be really honest. “No one’s replicated the findings — and it turns out the rats also started having little rat orgies, so that probably helped.” He laughed, though Taren still looked mostly confused. Dorian took a breath. “But, there was a truth there that no one had bothered to tell me before: sometimes the reason why is worse than the thing itself. Sometimes a change in thinking, a change of scenery…” he paused, “someone to talk to,” another pause, longer this time — he’d lost his will to make light of it, somewhere in there. “I’m not a bad person, I know that now.” he said, more quietly than he meant to, "but I live," he placed his glass of whiskey carefully down on the coffee table, and let himself look Taren in the eye, "in a very terrible little cage. And I've done things, things I'm not proud of, just to try to… escape." He shrugged, and picked up his drink again, "but these days, I've more or less settled in. Figured out how to be a productive little rat who doesn't take more than he can handle, usually." He took a sip of his drink, directing a hooded smoulder at Taren as he did, and downing most of it — getting drunk and doing it very much on purpose, "only rattling the bars on weekends, so to speak."

#yes this is still unhealthy but like there's...more #pavellan #dorian pavus #my fic #wip wednesday #alcohol cw #also this analogy is a Real Thing you can look it up #presented here as accurately as possible #drugs cw

8 notes · View notes

rawrroarart · 5 years ago

Text

Diakko!Odyssey AU

Most recent update: 8/28/2020 I added the comic of them meeting and also wrote a little snippet under the Diakko section

Welcome all. This post will officially be my master post of the Odyssey AU which will be updated as time moves forward so that I can link all of my related art to it. Yes I will not be posting multiple separate Updates in text posts how it’s traditionally done, but instead there will be information with each art and then a link back to this post. This is to avoid clutter since I hardly post on this blog anyway so it wouldn’t be fun having to scroll through all of my “OH ALSO THIS HAPPENS!” to get to art. Also I keep changing my mind on a lot of things in the AU so disregard information under the arts anyway as I will be posting here what is actually relevant.

Another key thing: I will be avoiding spoilers as much as possible until they are either shown in art or stated explicitly like I do in posts because I am the absolute worst at surprises. But anyway fear not for spoilers. Things said here are things that should be hinted at/known already. (and also I hardly know anything but maybe I will in due time)

Without further ado..

Introduction

What is the Odyssey AU?

The odyssey au is an alternative universe combining both Assassin’s Creed: Odyssey and Little Witch Academia into this (very random) adventuring story that takes place in ancient Greece. I guess I can’t say that it’s random since one of my favorite things about both ACO and LWA is the ties/references to mythology with the former obviously more rooted in the mythology and the latter just fun easter egg references.

The general premise is that Diana is a misthios(mercenary) who travels with Akko, a shapeshifter, across Greece to find the answers pertaining to her origin.

The first art post: Diana and Akkoros

While living her life as a misthios, Diana searches for the answers pertaining to her origin and superhuman (described as “magical”) abilities along with Shapeshifter Atsuko, who commonly uses her powers for flight, but is not shy to switch to animals more suited for combat.

But I don’t know what Assassin’s Creed: Odyssey is?

That’s fair and understandable. Honestly my AU diverges a lot from the game so I don’t think knowledge of ACO is exactly necessary it’s just fun to understand the connections if you know them. Basically the key things you need to know from ACO as of now is:

Kassandra (the protag) is known as the Eagle Bearer because she has an eagle that is known as the “eagle of Zeus” throughout the game. And they adventure together and Ikaros (the eagle) can hunt n kill things and See things and tbh he’s rly just a cool eagle but not a shapeshifter or anything lol

Kassandra is a Mercenary (misthios) which is basically a for Hire fighter/person who will p much do anything for money (if they want to do it)

Kassandra is usually referred to a demi-god because of her powerful fighting abilities in which I mean yea she literally has powers and can blast people like a billion miles away (im jk but-)

Kassandra can tame animals (which ones depending on your skill level). You can tame uhh wolves, lynx, leopards, lions, bears. This is where my ‘shapeshifter’ idea began and it pretty much fit perfectly since Akko’s favorite spell is the shapeshifting one.

Other than this, the most important things to know for this AU is just,, general mythology,, I guess? Or history? General history of mythology and how people worshipped/acted in accordance to the gods. And I’m not saying im going to be historically accurate obviously, nor even mythologically accurate (if that’s even a thing lol), I’m just here to have a good time and enjoy my gay mercenaries while talking about gods/goddesses as if I even know (thankfully I have my gf who is way more interested in mythology than me to help me)

I’ve only played like half of the Atlantis DLC after beating the game so whoopsie. I honestly really wanna replay everything now that I have this AU just so I can focus more on details and what I can yoink.

Characters

Diana

Art:

Diana’s sketch-dump though she really needs a new one.

Diana in wheat field

Diana is the main protagonist of the story, but they pretty much both share the spotlight anyway. Her goal is to find out why she has certain powers (which I have officially decided, finally...) that aren’t exactly human. Since being a misthios was an easy way for her to travel and make drachmae, she chooses to do it while on their journey. Dammit I came up with her lore but as per the rules of this masterpost I can’t write about it until it’s out smh.. Ah I forgot that I already spilled that she is a goddess/demi-goddess (haven’t decided which yet) so yea that’s the Tea.

Described as very beautiful, there are rumors of her that state she is a pathway to Elysium (despite many people not deserving to go to Elysium). She is also known for her stoic face and a red bird that follows her around.

Diana is only found smiling with Akko and keeps buying Akko clothes despite her outer grievances each time Akko destroys something.

Diana was there with her mother at Chariot’s speech/performance.

Diana is skilled with any weapon.

Akko

Art:

Akko sketch-dump

Akko is a shapeshifter who travels with Diana across Greece in search for her idolized Chariot. Trusting both Diana’s skills and powers, Akko decides that Diana is the best choice to help achieve her goal as they adventure together.

Orphaned at a young age, Akko is, at first, very unfamiliar with how exactly to use her powers because there was no one around to teach her. She uses a bird most often because it is her first and most skilled transformation, but eventually learns to use stronger animals over time. Also eagle-vision is much more useful to Diana when they’re scoping the grounds anyway.

Like all shapeshifters, Akko has a symbol on her neck that signifies what she is. Due to the high prejudice against shapeshifters, Akko stays an animal to avoid being known, and also does not transform in front of others unless to kill them. If she has to be a human, Akko commonly wears a hood to hide her neck.

Akko is one of the last shapeshifters to exist, and, despite Chariot being rumored to have finally been murdered, she still believes Chariot is alive.

Akko was with her parents when they all attended Chariot’s final speech/show and here began her dream.

Akko can use a dagger if she needs to.

Side-characters

Akko’s Parents: Shapeshifters who were murdered when Akko was a young age.

Chariot: A shapeshifter who somehow had a voice and power that even normal people listened to. Akko idolizes Chariot because, despite the hate against shapeshifters, Chariot was well known and was an activist for shapeshifters despite the danger upon her head. Chariot mysteriously disappears one day for reasons unknown, and everyone but Akko assumes she was finally murdered.

Shapeshifters

Shapeshifters are defined as humans who possess the ability to transform to any animal at will. Unfortunately, because animals were seen as less than human, shapeshifters were defined as “punished by the gods” and so many decided shapeshifters needed to be removed from the world for sin. This causes a massacre of shapeshifters to the point that they are instead a rarity.

Shapeshifters do not transform with their clothes, and so either destroy them or lose them depending on their transformation.

All shapeshifters have a symbol on their neck which is what is used to find them. They can also be found by their human personalities/characteristics when they are an animal.

If weakened, shapeshifters return to their human form and cannot transform until they are stronger.

Diakko

Art:

Meeting (Comes with a 500 word story!)

Misthios!Diana and Shapeshifter!Akko Sketch-dump

Diana and Bear!Akko

Fancy Diakko (the first continuity error lol)

Diana and Akko adventure together and do all of their quests together as a rag-tag chaotic duo. God I’m so excited for this section I wish I could make art FASTER but anyway:

They meet at about 17 years old but the main story takes place when they are 18+

The two get off to a wrong start when Diana saves Akko’s life. Because Akko is a shapeshifter, she’s high in value to kill probably by some cult idk but there is always a bounty on her head. When Diana saves her, Akko assumes Diana only did so to steal the drachmae from the original perpetrators, but Diana really just leaves her alone afterwards. Confused, Akko legit just starts tagging along LMAO she finds Diana interesting and so follows her and Diana’s just like what the fuck but eventually she gets over it. They become powerful assets to each other as Diana can now scope the skies with Akko and Akko is pretty much protected under Diana. Then when Akko gets much stronger Diana gets extra manpower and protection too.

Akko enjoys staying in her human form to spend time with Diana.

Diana keeps buying Akko clothes just because it makes Akko happy (and also, despite Akko uncaring because her transformations are so frequent anyway, Diana doesn’t want her to be naked??)

Diana is easily persuaded by Akko and puts Akko’s interests first (feeds her first, considers what Akko would want, etc.)

#lwa #lwa au #odyssey au #odyssey masterpost #my writing #odyssey!diakko

102 notes · View notes

starshine583 · 5 years ago

Text

A Fitting Situation

(How did I know this was gonna turn into something longer than a snippet? Well, here’s part 4 since you guys asked again. Enjoy!)

Summer Escapades (This was part 3)

The tiny bell above the door jingled as they entered the bakery. Marinette already had a million different designs she wanted to try on Damian. He had so much potential!

“Where are we?” Damian asked, taking in the small shop.

“I wanted to stop by my house real quick.”

He scrunched up his nose, confused. “You live in a bakery?”

Marinette giggled. She was used to those kinds of responses by now.

Before she could explain further, her mother called out to them from the kitchen. “Marinette? Is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me. I came by to grab something.” She called back, starting to make her way to the stairs.

Sabine and Tom immediately walked out to greet her with bright smiles and a tray of freshly baked goods.

“I thought you were at the banquet with your friends? What happened to…” Her mother gradually trailed off, eyes trained on Damian.

The boy visibly stiffened when Tom turned to him as well, utter shock written all over the couple’s faces.

“Is that..?”

“Damian Wayne.” Marinette nodded, coming back to his side with a nervous smile. They wouldn’t be too weird about this visit, right? Or about her trying to bring a boy to her room? Sure, it was just to try on clothes, but you never knew when it came to her parents.

Tom’s tray slipped from his fingers, creating a loud *CRASH* and sending cookies everywhere. He didn’t move to pick them up, continuing to stare at Damian with a slack-jaw.

Marinette buried her face in her hands and groaned. Why were they being so quiet? This was so embarrassing.

As if on queue, Sabine sprang back to life, rushing over with a wide grin.

“Forgive my manners, it’s so nice to meet you! I’ve heard so much about your family. We really are grateful for what you’ve done for us.” She beamed, pulling him into a hug.

The flash of panic on Damian’s face towards the abrupt hug made Marinette snort. She almost felt bad for him.

Almost.

It was when Tom came over that she moved aside. That man had no mercy when it came to his bear hugs.

Damian found this out soon enough when Tom picked up both him and Sabine.

“Welcome to our home! Come by whenever you like.” He stated heartily.

Damian forced a small smile, though it looked more like a distorted glare. “Uh, thanks.”

The coos and hugs continued without much sign of stopping for about ten minutes straight. Marinette finally had the compassion to intervene when he looked about ready to murder someone or pass out from how hard Tom was squeezing him.

“Alright, alright, he’s had enough. Besides, we’re kind of in a hurry.” She said, almost having to rip Damian from their hands.

Sabine and Tom reluctantly let him go, but that didn’t stop either from asking more questions.

“Where are you headed?”

“Did he ask you for something?”

“How did you two meet anyway?”

Marinette let out a nervous laugh, ushering Damian up the stairs as quickly as possible. Looks like she’d need to make a plan to escape the bakery too.

“Sorry about them. They can be a little.. Overwhelming.” She apologized once they were out of hearing range.

Damian nodded in agreement, glancing back towards the entryway of the bakery. “Yeah.. but they remind me of some people I know. In a way.”

Marinette raised her eyebrows in surprise. Other people as over-the-top as her parents? Now that was a shock.

She led him up the second flight of stairs, through the trapdoor to her bedroom. It was a bit messy with some loose projects scattered here and there, but she should be able to find him some clothes easily.

“So this is your room?” Damian asked, taking it upon himself to look around.

Marinette offered him a shy smile and tucked some of her hair behind her ears. “Yep! This is mine.”

He didn’t respond, instead continuing around the room. He inspected the pictures on her walls, ran his hand over some of her designs, and even held a few of her hand made plush dolls.

“I know it’s weird to say because we just met, but this room is very.. You.”

Marinette chuckled and glanced at him from her desk where she was fishing for her things to get started on the outfit. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She then pulled out a long, white tape measure and some pins. Without a word, she strolled over to Damian and wrapped the tape measure around his waist, pulling it tight to get the exact measurements.

Damian flinched, raising his arms and looking down at her with an incredulous expression. “What are you doing?”

“Measurements.” Was the only answer she gave, swiftly taking the tape measure back and looking him over.

“You look like a black and red kinda guy.” She said, snapping her fingers. Or maybe green? Either way, she would try anything she had.

Marinette walked over to the closet and dug around in there for a bit before throwing out a few different types of clothing. By the time she was done picking things out, she had a small pile for him to try on.

“Hurry up and put these on. I wanna see them all.” Marinette instructed, all too eagerly handing him the outfits.

A frown tugged at the corner of his lips, but he didn’t argue, wandering over to the bathroom to change.

The first outfit was a black t-shirt with a long-sleeved, button up T-shirt on top of it and jeans. Marinette didn’t feel like it worked well, though, so she had him try on the next one. A red hoodie with a black leather jacket and ripped up, black jeans. Close, but not quite. The third outfit was another black T-shirt with a red hoodie and grey jeans.

Yes! She thought excitedly, jotting the idea down. Of course, it was still summer. So that would probably be hot..

He went ahead and tried on the last outfit. A half sleeved, blood red shirt that turned black around the shoulders and sleeves, accompanied with a pair of dark grey jeans.

Marinette squealed, hopping up to circle him for a better look. “It’s perfect! What do you think?”

Damian glanced down at his outfit thoughtfully.

“I like it.” He said with a small smile that put Marinette’s excitement through the roof. “And you made these yourself?”

She nodded, trying not to burst. Damian Wayne liked her outfits!

He looked genuinely impressed and picked up the other clothes she’d given him. “Do you mind if I take this too?”

“Absolutely!” Marinette grinned. She wasn’t sure if he would actually wear them after today, but he didn’t seem like the type to do things for the sake of courtesy.

Damian neatly folded the last outfit and set it on top of his suit. “I’ll have someone come and take them to the hotel we’re staying at.”

Marinette smirked. Exactly something a rich person would say.

After she made some finishing touches on the outfit, Damian and Marinette left the bakery to start the walk to the amusement park. It was farther now because of the route they took, but Marinette found that she didn’t mind the extra blocks. It gave them some more time to talk together.

Unfortunately, they didn’t make it far.

They’d just turned onto a street when something crashed into the building next to them. A large boulder off the roof came tumbling onto them, and before Marinette could react, Damian grabbed her arm and pushed her against the wall, using his body as a sort of shield.

The chunk of building landed right in front of them, blowing dust and debris everywhere.

Marinette tried to level her breathing as she looked him over for injuries. How did he react so fast? Not to mention, why would he put himself in danger so recklessly!

“Are you okay?” He asked, looking her over as well.

Was she okay? He’s the one that almost got hit by a building!

An eerie laugh sounded over head, and the two looked up to see none other than an akuma standing haughtily on another building.

“I have to go” Damian and Marinette said in unison.

Their eyes met, both a bit surprised. She couldn’t help but notice how close they were, his hands pining her to the wall. Or how she could still smell his cologne despite him wearing her clothes..

She shook her head, fighting back the blush crawling up her neck. Now was not the time for that!

“Get to safety.” She ordered, ducking out of his hold.

Damian nodded and started running in the other direction. For it being his first time in an akuma attack, he had an uncanny sense of calm.

They gave each other a final, reluctant glance before Marinette turned the corner to find a place to transform.

Tag List: @thebookwormfairy @unholykrow @constancetruggle @vixen-uchiha @derpingrainbow @kceedraws @graduatedmelon@starry-bi-sky @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry@sweatyruinsstudentbored @go-n-ef @tinybrie @resignedcatservant @never-neverland @captainmac6 @drama-queen-supreme

#Damian Wayne #Daminette #Gotham AU #Marinette

655 notes · View notes

mvnvgedmischief · 5 years ago

Text

bad luck: chapter 2

do my best to ignore it

work summary: normalcy. remus lupin has always craved normalcy. so he keeps his life at home in wales, where he’s a normal muggle boy with normal muggle friends and normal muggle interests separate from his school life, of magic, mischief, and deception. the only thing allowed to cross the threshold? his skateboard. however, he tries desperately to hide it from his friends, for fear of his favorite, normal muggle interest being taken from him, his space being violated. too bad sirius black has shaken up his entire worldview, and he can’t keep his friends out forever.

chapter summary: remus is trying to keep skating a private affair, but failing spectacularly. three interactions in fourth year prove as much to him. he can’t seem to keep everything together. not like this.

cw: internalized homophobia, slurs

2.7k words

read it on ao3

Remus was a forth year when everything caught up to him. His nights out of bounds had gotten wilder, and the first time he thought that skating would be taken from him, was when he woke up in the hospital wing outside of the bounds of the moon. He hadn’t even begun to explain himself when Madam Pomfrey pulled out his skateboard.

“You’re lucky I don’t turn this over to Mister Filch, Remus.” She took on a tone that reminded him of his mom. All soft lilts in her voice, but with a sternness that reminded him that he had done something wrong, and was being subtly reprimanded for it.

“Please,” He didn’t mean to sound so desperate, “i– please– there’s nothing in the rules about skating and I just need it. I have nothing fucking else, Madam Pomfrey, I just need some semblance of normalcy.”

“I worried about your adjustment to being here. Albus said you’d be fine, but I can’t imagine it’s easy to keep a secret such as your own.” It was then that he was reminded of McGonnagal. It was in the way she sounded like she was teaching him something instead of punishing him for his actions. “But if I catch you unconscious and out of bounds again, I will not hesitate to turn it over, Master Lupin. You’ve got a long day of recovery ahead of you. I trust you’ll stay off of it until your concussion has fully healed.”

He wanted to nod with fervor at that, but his head throbbed too badly. So instead he watched her put the board aside and out of view of anyone who came walking in. He was thankful for that, particularly when his merry band of comrades waltzed into the hospital wing. He doesn’t want to talk to them– he really doesn’t. Sure, they were nice to him. They found out about his secret and didn’t care. That had been kind of them, and he knew it. They could have told everyone. They could have turned their back on him, and gotten him expelled. But they didn’t. Instead, they had affectionately nicknamed him after it and had even named his secret. They called it his furry little problem. It was kind, he knew that. But he couldn’t fight the bile rising in his throat that he was in this hospital wing, not having Daniel pour water over his head until he woke up. He hated that he wasn’t at home in Gwynedd. He hated that he hadn’t been more careful. Because they could find out, and it would throw his balance off. It would change his entire center of gravity if they knew he was sneaking out of the dormitory to go skate. They might try to stop him, they might try to tag along, and at this point, Remus was unsure which would be worse.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts when Peter’s soft voice cuts through his panicked haze. “Moony, you’ve gotta stop ending up in the hospital wing.”

“Yeah, at this rate people might think you’re in love with Poppy,” James added.

“I resent that,” Remus muttered, his eyes trained on a spot on the wall in front of him. He didn’t know why his chest had that same vice grip feeling like something was deeply wrong with the statement. But instead of saying anything, he did his best to shake it off. These were his friends after all. It was fine for friends to take the piss. He’d be fine.

“What even happened Moony? Evans apparently found you on her morning rounds.”

“Yeah! My girl’s worried sick over you, Moons!”

“Firstly, and I hate to be the one to break this to you, she’s not your girl.” Remus starts, trying to give himself the time to come up with some excuse. “I was walking around with the map last night, trying to finish it, and I tripped. Must’ve smacked my head pretty hard.”

Sirius leered at him like he knew Remus wasn’t quite telling the truth, and for a split second, he panicked over the deck behind the bed, painted with the phases of the moon. Thre was no way they’d believe it belonged to anyone but him, and he knew it.

“Mates, don’t you have a charms lesson you need to get to.”

“Fuck.” And then the three boys are running off. Remus couldn’t be more thankful. Now he only had to have Poppy release him from the hospital wing, and he’d be home fucking free. But given that after they leave, the healer does not return, he realized he probably wasn’t going back his dormitory just yet. So instead he closes his heavy eyes, and begins to run through how he’s feeling. Why does his chest tighten when is mates mention dating birds. Sure, a few years ago when it began, he could justify it as being because of his age. But he was fourteen now, and it was getting less and less easy to use those same justifications. Why wasn’t he interested? He felt like he should be. His thoughts begin to travel, as they always do, to a particular pair of storm grey eyes, that seem to hold some secret deep within them. He recognizes it, because it’s a look he wears so well. And yet, he can’t push himself to think more about it— it scares him too much. So instead he thrashes a bit on the bed, trying to fall asleep. But sleep does not come to him, not that it ever has easily. Too often, he has a thrumming in his veins that he can only quell on concrete, too afraid of not getting away fast enough. What he needs to get away from remains to be seen. After all, he only has snippets of memories of Greyback. So when fiery red hair enters the periphery of his half lidded eyes, he immediately is put on the defensive. Sure, he liked Lily. But he didn’t know why she was here, nor what she wanted. They were friendly, but they weren’t really friends.

“You gave me quite the fright this morning.”

“Good morning to you too, Evans.”

“Are you really so arrogant that you can’t wear a helmet, Lupin?”

“What do I need a helmet for? I tripped.”

“You’re full of shite and you know it. I’m not stupid, Remus. You, of all people, should know that.”

He sighs in defeat. “Lils, please don’t tell anyone. I just— I wanna keep stuff like home and stress relief kind of off limits here.” There was no one Remus would dare trust more than Lily Evans. She was smart and loyal, and from their long hours in the library together, he knew she valued him as a friend.

“Alright.” She sighs in return, a look of endearment across her face. It reminded him of Erika. Erika, who, just like Justin, has picked him up so many times after he fell. “One condition.”

“Alright, what's the condition?” He hoped, in vain, that the desperation wasn’t sinking into his voice.

“Come get me when you wanna go for a late night stroll. Buddy system an’ all that. Someone’s gotta get help if you crack your head open again.”

“Fine, but breathe a word of this to James and you’re dead to me.”

This was a deal Remus could live with. Lily was a muggle. She understood. The two didn’t mix. The closest they had ever gotten was a few odd letters exchanged between him and Daniel, or him and Justin, all of which involved questioning why his school didn’t have a bloody telephone. It was something he only spoke about with Lily Evans. Lily understood him in a way the other marauders often didn’t. She understood why he missed the comforts of home, the things that his friends probably never would. She accompanied him on late-night skates, because, according to her, he could get hurt, and then who would heal him so he didn’t wake up in the hospital wing. Lily tended to roast him for how much he kept in his pockets, and the fact that he would forgo any and all wizarding clothes, in favor of his soft trackies and a beanie. She told him so often, that he looked like a proper skater as if he wasn’t one already. Shee also tended to lay into him for his outright refusal to wear a helmet, but at this point, it had become quite endearing. She was a prefect, and she covered for him when he was out of bounds. It was nice, to have someone who understood.

It was nice, up until she made him confront his feelings. “You skate when you’re trying to process your feelings.” It was a statement, not a question. As if she was informing him of something. That was different if you asked Remus.

“And?”

“Just wondering what you’re processing.”

“None of your business, red.”

“C’mon, Remus. Enlighten me.”

“You can keep a secret?”

“I keep secrets for you all the time.”

“‘S about Sirius, who I know you don’t like.”

“Lay it on me.”

He takes a deep breath to steel himself against what he’s about to do. “I’m–“ i think i have a crush on him. coward. “worried about him. coping the way he does can’t be healthy.”

“skating out of bounds every night for four weeks and making your mates repair a board you broke in a rage is also not healthy, Remus.”

“Sirius has a lot more emotional range than me. I have for moods, silent brooding, loud brooding, silent skating, loud skating.”

“skating isn’t a mood.”

“it is now.”

She looked at him like she knew something he didn’t, but the conversation was laid to rest. He wasn’t budging on this one. He was too afraid of it getting out. It wasn’t exactly like being bent was acceptable.

It was their fifth year when his friends started to catch on. He was fifteen when he stopped trying to keep his head down around them. He had spent the last four years sneaking out of the dorm and running off to blow off steam on his board. He knew he wasn’t really supposed to, he’d been caught by prefects more than once, but what else was he supposed to do? He needed some way to decompress when Snape was snooping around, whispering about the faggot in the marauders. Often times, that same rumor went around about Sirius, but the boy maintained a parade of girls in their year who were interested, and no one really believed it. People had no problem believing that the prefect who spent all his time sneaking around alone and had never had a girlfriend was bent. It was all mounting pressure. His mam was starting to get sick, his classes were so hard, his condition tore him up repeatedly, and he worried about the safety of the marauders. All of it felt like too much. He needed a way to relax when everything was off-kilter, and he missed the rough concrete against his hands when he fell, or the sound of his wheels spinning beneath his feet. It wasn’t something to be ashamed of– he knew that. But he was surrounded by wizards. A particular three of whom didn’t understand the muggle world at all, let alone the niche interest of skate culture. And besides, skating was a safe space for him. It was a part of his life that he kept closed off, like how he spoke welsh exclusively at home, or how he never talked about his friends.

Remus also liked the freedom the map had afforded him, he could skate through the grounds and the halls, attempting trick after trick, as a way to get acquainted with the secrets of the castle. He could make sure no one was coming when he needed to. But on the night they found out, he had left the map behind, left Lily behind, in favor of some much needed alone time. He had been trying and failing to figure himself out. He wanted to know what it meant when his eyes caught the way Sirius’s bone structure in the dappled sunlight of their dorm. He wanted to know why he couldn’t look away. He wanted to know why every time Sirius flirted with Marlene it made him angry. He wanted to know why it felt like his stomach was fluttering every time Sirius opened his mouth. But he knew why. He knew this was how James talked about Lily, he recognized that he looked at Sirius the way Justin looked at his girlfriend Erika. He wanted to know why this had happened to him. He was trying to grind out his frustration in the grip tape, with the fervor of every pop shove-it landed and every heelflip that he primo’d or pushed too far. Why did he have to be the poof of the friend group? It wasn’t until Sirius stepped into his way, and he slammed on the hard stone floor, that he realized he hadn’t been paying enough attention.

“Moony! What the hell are you doing?”

Frustration, resentment, irritation, and so much more began to bubble up within him. Here was Sirius, bloody beautiful Sirius, forcing him out of his groove, and injecting himself into Remus’s safe space. His alone time. “What the fuck does it look like?” Well, maybe he didn’t have to be so rude. Perhaps it was a genuine question, but Remus couldn’t find it in himself to care. Not when Sirius was staring at him

“It looks like you neglected to mention that you’re a bloody skateboarder. What the fuck, mate? I thought we weren’t doing secrets anymore. We became animagi for you Moony! How could you hold out on us with something so bloody cool?”

Remus suppressed a cringe at the term skateboarder because it just wasn’t something people said. He knew it was some part of the skater in him that did so, with all of his lessons in skate etiquette (the dumb shit you need to know not to say was the name of that particular lesson) that had impressed this opinion on him. “It wasn’t a secret. It just isn’t something I mentioned. Besides, what’s it to you, Sirius?”

A look of recognition passed over Sirius’s face, and Remus noticed the way his eyebrows furrowed as if he was growing cross.

“Why are you being such a tosser, Remus? How’d you even learn this? I don’t know a single other wizard who owns a skateboard.”

“You do know I had a life before you, before this smarmy, stuffy old place, before any of this shit. God, sometimes everyone here makes me just want to go!”

And with that, he was off. He grabbed his board and ran, before jumping back on to get some much-needed air time. It was tiring to run from everything all the time. Remus couldn’t help it, of course. Not when he had so much to hide, with his friends constantly pulling pranks that only ever seemed to put his secrets on the line. This was something people could take away from him. He wasn’t willing to take the risk. The final weeks of the term came and went, with Remus not mentioning it a single time to Sirius. He wasn’t willing to talk about it, and he knew Sirius wasn’t going to bring it up until Remus decided they were done fighting.

He didn’t know that Sirius watched him leave, arms wrapped around himself in a self soothing position, and wishing he hadn’t put Remus in that position. He didn’t know that Sirius understood keep something tucked away because of a self preservation instinct. He didn’t know that Sirius resolved not to tell anyone while he was watching Remus, or that he thought it was fantastic that his moony had something that made him smile that wide. But it was okay that he didn’t know, because Sirius didn’t know how to tell him.

#wolfstar #wolfstar fic #skater! remus lupin #sirius black x remus lupin #moony and padfoot #moony & padfoot #hp #wolfstar angst #my shit #bad luck

21 notes · View notes

purplesurveys · 4 years ago

Text

833

Given the chance, would you ever go into space? I’ve answered this exact question on a recent survey...but yeah absolutely, as long as it was a free opportunity. Outer space has always interested me so it would be awesome to actually get there. What is your all-time favorite thing to snack on? A local brand of chips called Nova, corndogs, powdered fries, and pizza. I couldn’t choose just one :( Have you ever been jealous of anyone's socks? Not in a toxic way but I have seen socks that made me go “damn, I wish I had that” and it’s usually socks based off of famous paintings like Starry Night, The Scream, etc. Do you match your clothing, or are you careless about fashion? The most I’ll match is colors; I’ll make sure the colors I wear complement each other. But I’m not likely to buy outfits that come in parts, like a matching top and skirt that have their own price tags. It’s an annoying scam that makes you have to pay more money for one outfit lol. Know anyone that has amazing fashion taste? There’s a professor in the communication research department of our college that dresses SOOOO well. She’s never recycled an item of clothing either. She dresses literally exactly like Audrey Hepburn, except with more printed clothes.

Do you know or wish you could knit? I don’t know how to knit and have no desire to learn.

Like earmuffs? They’re alright, I guess? I never have to wear them, so I don’t have much of an opinion. Have you ever had the roof of your mouth sore? Yeah, that one time I ate takoyaki while it was still burning hot and I burned off the skin on the roof my mouth. Do you like orange juice? I’ll drink it if it’s served or if it’s free, but I never crave for it. How many times a day do you brush your teeth, honestly? Once or twice. Do you think anyone really looks good in a jumpsuit? Yeah. Well it’s since become a trend so that’s really all there is to know about people’s preferences nowadays. I have several jumpsuits that I feel really good in. Have a collection of anything? Not anymore. Ever ran out of something that made you very upset? Sometimes my family will bring home leftovers from a really good restaurant. When we finish them all up it bums me out. Biggest lie you ever told? Saying ‘yes’ with a big ol’ smile on my face to my high school guidance counselors whenever they ask if my situation at home is good. Is there a song that makes you want to rock out? For sure. I have my fair share of favorite punk/rock bands. Do you have a religion? No. Believe that there is a point to churches? Not a single one. How do eat Oreos? I just bite into them. Never really got into the whole twist-lick-dunk thing because 1) I don’t want to bite into something I had already licked (even if it’s my own saliva lol), and 2) I can’t consume a lot of milk, anyway. -This or That- Sunsets or sunrises? Sunsets. I’ve seen more sunsets than sunrises with Gabie, so I have good memories of them. I don’t like the idea of getting up early just for a sunrise either. Pennies or dimes? Can’t relate because we don’t use these concepts. Coffee or tea? Coffeeeeeeee. Never been a tea person, actually. Windows or Mac? Mac. I did use Windows for a while, but when it comes down to it I would rather get a Mac. Headphones or speakers? Headphones. You get more of the sound when you listen to music, so the listening experience is a lot better. Loud or soft & quiet? Depends on the context...I like my concerts loud, but I obviously prefer soft and quiet when I’m doing something like going to bed. Odd or even numbers? I don’t really have a preference lol. The cookie dough or the actual cookies? Cookie dough, heh. Speaking of, I recently found a recipe for edible cookie dough but I keep putting it off... Mp3 players or iPod? iPod, mostly because MP3s went out of style like, a decade ago. Calm or rock music? Again, depends on my mood. I’d listen to rock music if I’m pissed off or going through a similar emotion, and I’d prefer hearing calm music when I wanna focus on something, like if I’m doing surveys. Love or lust? Love. I don’t feel lust for the most part. Converse or Vans? Converse. They’re AJ’s favorite and I find them more comfy. The few times I borrowed my sister’s Vans I always got blisters at the end of the day. Lipsyncing or actual singing? I would prefer to lipsync than to let people hear my actual singing voice; but if I’m watching a performance obviously I’d want the performers to be using their real voice. Walking or running? Walking. I find strolls to be relaxing. Dancing or watching others dance? Watching others. Dancers are crazy talented. With friends or by yourself? When it comes down to it, I wanna be with friends. Local concert or a popular band? Popular band. It’s rarer, so I find it more precious. I still support local though! Blond or brown hair? Brown. Idk, I just don’t know a lot of people who are blonde. Red or black? I like both, but I like black slightly more. Blue or green eyes? Green. Having fun or being asleep? Having fuuuun. Carnival or park? Park. I can’t go on rides anyway, so a nice stroll and picnic at the park sounds lovely to me. -Favorites- Favorite thing to buy? Uh food, I guess? I’m super easy to please lol. What do your favorite pair of socks look like? My bacon and eggs one. Kind of tea/coffee? Iced tea/iced caramel macchiato. Way of communication? Face-to-face with Gab, instant messenger/text for everyone else. Time to sleep in to? Midnight is most convenient for me. Band to dance to? PARAMORE. Also helps that their music has turned dance-y too. Favorite gum? Don’t really have one. I’ll chew on any kind/flavor of gum. Type of cereal? Cookie Crisps. Color of hoodie? I don’t mind color, as long as the hoodie is comfortable and keeps me warm. Spice? Cumin smells lovely. Favorite thing to touch/feel? Dogs. Website? Probably Twitter. I’ve been on it the longest and still have no reason to be tired of it. Person in your life? My girlfriend...but also my dogs, if they can count. -Would you Rather- Hire one of your friends, or fire an enemy? Hire one of my friends, as long as they work well without me. Firing an enemy seems a little bit more unprofessional, especially if they objectively perform well. Be a contestant on American Idol or America's Got Talent? I’d go with AGT I guess? I’ve watched some snippets of the show and their judges seem more nice, whereas on American Idol the judges tend to laugh or embarrass you if you do badly. Live in Britain or Australia? Australia. I feel like it’s a more Filipino-friendly country, not that Britain isn’t but yeah. Travel by plane or helicopter? Plane. Aren’t helicopters loud? I think I’d be more relaxed in an airplane. Trade places with a male or a female for a day? I’d rather remain a woman, thanks. Shop at Wal-Mart or Target? I don’t know. I’m honestly curious though – for the Americans survey-takers, what’s the difference between them and what do y’all prefer? Hahaha Read Shakespeare or Artistotle's work? I internally winced at both lol but when it comes down to it, Shakespeare. I do like his work, as long as I’m reading a modern English version. I hate philosophy straight up, so that’s a definite no on Aristotle. Have a regular donut or donut holes? Regular donut. Spell better or smell better? Smell. I can already spell well. Rather be in a tornado or a large earthquake? This is horrible, no one ever *wants* to be stuck in a natural calamity. 80's or 90's music? I like the 80s sound better. Eat a plain peanut butter sandwich or PB & J? Peanut butter sandwich. I tried PB&J before to see what the hype was about, and it just didn’t work for my Asian tastebuds. Wear a uniform every day or go half-naked? Wear a uniform. I wore one in Catholic school for 14 years and survived, so it’d just be the same thing. Would you rather Santa or the Easter Bunny actually exist? Santa. I’m more familiar with him. The Easter Bunny’s not really a part of our culture so I don’t actually know what it’s supposed to do. Apple pie or Pizza pie? Pizzaaaaa. Y’all should know me by now haha. Spend an afternoon cleaning or clean things later? I’d rather work early so I can be satisfied earlier. Flying or X-Ray vision? Flying. Dentist or Doctor? I guess dentist? There’s fewer reasons to be scared when you go to the dentist because the health problems are just limited to your mouth, I guess. Would you rather spread gossip or start a fight? Both sound awful. I’m never one to start a fight and I never initiate gossip myself, though I do take part in it sometimes. Get rid of your favorite shoes or your favorite pants? Pants. I love my shoes. Visit Florida or New York? New York. Myspace or Facebook (or do they both suck)? Facebook. It sucks, but at least the memes there are hilarious as fuck.

#survey #surveys

2 notes · View notes

scarlettkat86 · 5 years ago

Text

Eyy, @fluttyseed, remember the stripper Sharky fic idea? Well I took it and did a little less funny and a little more steamy. Hope you enjoy. Also tagging @deaconmcsexypants and @jacobmybeloved for reading snippets, appreciate yall. Theres also stripper sharky edits at the end because I have no shame.

Characters: female dep/rook, brief Hurk Jr, Sharky Boshaw.

Word Count: 1584

Warnings: Um, its a stripper fic, so if steamy lap dances and sharky taking his clothes off aint your thing turn away now.

Notes: Sharky’s stagename is from a disco song of the same name by Boney M, and the song he chooses to dance to is Fire and Gold by Bobby Saint

"There is literally nothing to do in this town." Rook huffed, slouching down into the couch. "What's there to do other then betting on which local a start a fight down at the Spread Eagle?"

Hurk Jr. takes a seat beside her, shotgunning a beer before he answers. "Well amigo, we can always get wasted and let the pigs loose at the Woodsons farm. Think I could ride 'em like one of those fancy rodeo cowboys!?"

Rook laughs at the image but shakes her head. "No way dude. Last time you and Sharky blew up a silo and set a barn on fire when i took yall cow tippin." She leans over putting an arm around Hurks shoulder. "Speaking of Sharky, where is he? Does he still think I'm gonna arrest him, cause that was just a joke."

Hurk jumps up from the couch, knocking over a few beer cans from the side table and points an acquisitive finger in her face. "You was serious that day man! I ain't ever seen someone ticked off as you was. If he hadn't of saved your ass from that bull man, you'd have taken us both in!"

Rook stifles a laugh before pushing his hand from her face. "That'd make me an accessory to a list of crimes I'd rather not admit to being a part of." She sees his face twist with amusement, then he flicks her nose.

"Dang, you know what. Bonafide disaster of a cop cause you're always aiding our criminal adventures, but you're the best damn friend I ever had." He rubs his thumb along his goatee then says, "I tell you what. I'll let you in on where Sharkys at, but you've gotta sweeten the deal for me brobafet."

"You insult me, then insist I sweeten the deal, seriously?"

"I'm deadly serious, like a ninja. I ain't blind and I know what you're gonna see tonight will be far more better then anythin' you could imagine. Now, what I want is simple. I wanna use your jeep while you visit Sharky at his new job. That's it."

After a few stipulations, Rook drove the 40 minutes to the next town over. "That's it!" Hurk yelled. A neon sign read, 'The Swinging Sirloin Bar'.

"You mean to tell me I drove nearly a hour to pound a few back in some sleezy bar?!" She says squinting her eyes at Hurk.

"Whoa whoa whoa. That's somethin' I don't need to know. Now a deal's a deal amigo." Hurk says with his ears covered. She's confused, nothing she said should make him cringe like that. Rook stepped out of the jeep and he took over the driver's seat.

"I'll see ya tomorrow amigo, dont worry Sharky won't mind riding you. Shit, what I meant was giving you a ride. In his car. Oh hell, just...bye!" He stammers and flies out of the parking lot.

That was...odd. Opening the door to the bar, everything suddenly makes sense as her ears are assaulted by women hollering and catcalling. She sees a stage with a semi naked man gyrating on a random woman seated on stage. To her right is a hallway with multiple doors, and to the left is the bar. She makes her way over, taking a seat at the end furthest from stage. Her cheeks flush, not for the sight in the room, but because she thought this was a hole in the wall bar. That serves steak. Not a strip club.

The bartender makes his way over. "The names Seth. What can I get you beautiful?"

Rook shrugs her shoulders, "Whiskey sour I guess. I'm here to see a friend, maybe you can point me to him? Goes by Sharky."

The man behind the counter slides her drink to her. "Only know stage names and faces, got a description?"

There's a loud commotion center stage, the man on stage now had his head up the back side of the random womans skirt, seemingly motorboating her ass. Rook curses, horrified but unable to look away. "Do uh, do all your dancers get so, hands on?"

Seth raises an eyebrow. "Well now, are you curious to find out, or jealous the friend your crushing on feels up on all the ladies in the same way?"

Rook snaps her head back around glaring daggers at the bartender. "What! How did you, I mean no. I'm not... jealous." She folds her arms across her chest. "I'm-Oh. Oh my God, he's a stripper?" She pulls her phone from her jeans and shows his picture to Seth.

"Crushing on Daddy Cool? His no touch rule drives the women crazy." Rook chokes on her drink, spewing it all over the counter.

"He's got time for a private dance. Or you can wait for his shift to end." He laughs pouring her another drink and wiping up the mess. "But if you wait, some other woman will probably take his last dance."

That's how Rook found herself sitting on a questionable leather couch in a dimly lit room, waiting.

Ten minutes felt like an eternity, before she finally heard the door open. She resists the urge to turn around and face him when he starts speaking.

"First things first, I got a couple ground rules. One, no touching unless you have my consent, two, hav-" Sharky stops dead in his tracks when he finally comes face to face with his customer. He twists the owl ring on his left finger, opening and closing his mouth before finding his voice again. "Uh, he-hey shorty. What uh, how-why are you here?"

Rook stretches her arms out, relaxing into the couch. "Well isn't it obvious? I've been missing you lately. Now I know why you've been gone."

"I ain't been avoiding you if that's what you're thinkin'. Just need extra cash, and well with my record'n all..."

"Well I've got plenty of extra cash."

"Hell dep, I can't ask for your money, I-"

Laughter bubbled up from Rook, catching him off guard. She stood up, placing her hand on his shoulder, whispering in his ear. "I don't want you to ask. I wanna see your skills, Daddy Cool." She watches as he pulls out his phone, unsure if he's actually gonna strip. Maybe it was the way she purred his stage name in his ear, maybe it was part of his act, but the next thing she knew, he's carrying her to a chair in the center of the room. Music she's never heard before starts playing and Sharky starts circling her. It's an odd song choice, she's beginning to think he's joking but then his hand reaches from behind and wraps around her neck, the other tracing her shoulder and chest. His lips graze her ear, "Remember, no touching."

The song slows to a sensual beat and he's rolling his hips in sync with the rhythm. He slides across the floor, hands on her knees, pushing her legs apart. Her breath catches in her throat when he slides his hips between her legs, grinding against her. He leans back enough to pull the white tshirt off, wrapping it around her shoulders before running his hands down his chest. She slips her hands down his back feeling his muscles contract with each roll of his hips. Suddenly he's moving away from her, a playful smirk tugging the corners of his mouth. "Shame dep. I had one rule and you've already gone'n broke it." He sways his hips, thumbs tucked behind the waist of his jeans. "Maybe I should go?"

Rook is flustered, what she thought was going to be hilarious, is actually turning her on more than she wants to admit. She turns her head to the side, clearing her throat. "No. Don't- don't stop." She hates how desperate that came out.

Sharky nods his head, sliding his hands to the button on his jeans. He bites his lip as he pops the button open, turning his back to her, moving his body until they drop to the floor. Sharky looks back over his shoulder and slaps his ass. Rook giggles at the sight, though the orange thong actually looks like sin on him, then he's striding her way. He puts one leg up on the arm of the chair and takes her ponytail, pulling it free, grabbing fistfuls of loose hair.

He starts singing with the music "I need it, jesus. Burn baby burn." Pulling her head to his waist and snapping his hips. She can't resist the urge to grab his thighs, and he makes no move to stop her this time. Her cheeks are hot as his erection brushes against her chin. He pulls her head back, leaving kisses along her jaw and neck as he slides his body back down. Instinctively she wraps her legs around his hips. Sharky cups her ass, picking her up, and begins rocking against her. The music stops but neither of them seem to notice. Rook smashes her lips to his, all teeth and tongue. She pulls away as she realizes she's just kissed him. He gently lowers her back to her feet, taking a few awkward steps back.

"I um, I don't know what came over me..I"

He shakes his head, "Shit dep I didn't mind whatever that was."

"I wasn't finished. I was gonna see if you wanted to take me back to your place, finish what you started here?"

"Hell yeah, but just so we're clear, you started this."

youtube

#sharky boshaw #female dep/rook #sharky boshaw x f!deputy #hurk drubman jr #fc5 #fc5 fanfic #my photo edit

27 notes · View notes

boogiewrites · 5 years ago

Text

A Girl Walks Into A Bar 12

Characters: Declan Harp x Bella Fiore (OFC)

Summary: Modern Declan harp AU. With the close of the music festival, will the fondness they're built for each other continue on in the real world?

Warnings/Tags: Language. BED SHARING. Cuddling. Mutual Pining! Growing FEELINGS. Sexual Content: Masturbation. Mike forcing Declan to make a move. Flirting.

Click on my screen name then go to Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. Please leave a like, reblog or comment if you enjoyed this! It makes me want to write more of what you want if you let me know!

The last day at the festival went by without much fuss. The same drinks and junk food, the same burp contests and looking out while the other peed in places they weren’t supposed to. It had the same closeness they both were hoping wouldn’t go away after they went home. They held hands, he carried her on his shoulders, both shoving and picking and teasing all day, sober and not. She even got him to dance a little with her and Joey, who applauded his weak attempts at twerking even though Bella told him it would take some work.

The stage schedules are out of whack, the changes going up on twitter and being adjusted, the word of mouth different from all the other things they’d heard and it became frustrating in the muggy and muddy fields. Finally, it's announced the skipped headliner goes on before tonight's, which meant for a long evening. And boy was it.

At a little after two in the morning, Bella feels energized, a second or was it third or fourth, as they went back to the van. “You wanna stay the night again and fight the crowds in the morning or you wanna head out now? I can drive for a bit if you need to sleep.” she offers with bright eyes that he was finding it difficult to say no to.

“You sure? You’re not gonna get on the road and I’m gonna have to slap you to keep you awake?” he retorts with a deep swing of his voice and a chiding face.

“You wouldn’t.” she chuckles, taking her hair down out of it’s braided up-do to something more relaxed.

“Well I wouldn’t WANT to, put it that way.” he laughs.

“We’ll load up at a gas station, coffee and sugar and we’ll be set. Some good music will keep up awake. Just four hours and we get to crash HARD.” she enthuses with bent posture to draw out the word and prove her point as to how good it would feel to do exactly that.

“Fine. Energy drinks and sour worms all around.” he proclaims with a whip of his hand in the air.

“That’s my boy!” she says cheerfully, patting his sides and bouncing into the van.

The ride is long, and the sun is coming up as they cross over the state line, dawn, a new light starting to creep across everything as they pull up to Bella’s house. Declan drives the last part and for the sake of solidarity, Bella stays awake and sings raspily to songs and eats candy, feeding him the occasion piece when he’d open his mouth like a fish and grunt. She didn’t even hate that she found it entirely adorable, and when his lips touched her fingertips, sleep was the last thing from her mind.

“So you want me to bring your stuff by later or…” he asks, rubbing a hand through his hair as he parks the van.

“Nah. Just bring it in with yours.” she answers, reaching for the door handle.

“Huh?” he asks with a quick twist of his head.

“Bring what you’d need in the house with you.” she states as if it’s obvious.

“Why?” he asks, mind fogged a bit from lack of sleep.

“You can stay with me and leave whenever we crawl out of bed tomorrow.” her delivery is entirely casual and his eyes narrow at her. “I don’t want you driving alone, you can even wash your clothes if you want. But you said you had extra so…” she shrugs. ”We can take a good long shower too.” she speaks slowly with a dopey grin, looking forward to it the most.

“Together?” he blurts out, his nose wrinkling only slightly in an attempt to keep his delivery from coming out loud and sudden like a donkey haw.

Her cheeks flush, her jaw going tight. “I didn’t uh, mean that.” she huffs nervously.

“I’m just teasing.” he gives her a friendly smile. Great cover Declan.

“Oh.” she nods and laughs nervously again.

“I can just head home, I don’t wanna bother you any more than I have. It’d be better than the couch anyway.” he shrugs, trying to remain polite.

“If you’re over at my house you’re not sleeping on the couch anymore ya dingus.” she smiles, opening the door. “We’ll share the bed, it’s big, don’t worry.” she says with a playful bounce, getting out the van. “I’m not taking no for an answer Declan.” she gives him a playful scolding look and shuts the door behind her.

They’re greeted by a very vocal Robbie who is airing his grievances to being left without Bella.

“Lil man is pissed at you Bells.” Declan snorts.

“He has the right to be. C’mere my big baby boy.” she coos and drops all her things in the middle of the hall and picks him up to cuddle and kiss him. Declan never thought he’d see the day she’d be so soft with something. Maybe staying with her was a good idea. It could be the sleep deprivation telling him that, but he really didn’t care as he watched her move lightly around her space. She looked relaxed, happy and at ease, not something he was used to. He had wondered if her newly seen bouncy and enthusiastic nature existed outside of the festival, and apparently it had all along, he’d just had to find it.

With Robbie on her shoulders, enthusiastically talking back and she told him about the trip in little snippets, Declan grinned to himself, that heavy feeling creeping over him at the cool air of her home, the light music in the background, the soft couch underneath him as she walked back and forth and did laundry, getting everything ready for them to sleep.

“Bring your stuff in and get cozy while I shower.” she motions for him to follow her into the bedroom for longer than a few minutes, he was looking forward to getting to look at everything. “Robbie might get upset if I leave him with you, so I’ll have the door cracked, he’ll prob come and go but don’t worry about him too much.

“You seem like an independent little fella, I don’t think you’ll be much trouble.”

He mrow’s as she plops him into Declan's lap and he investigates him closely. As Bella turns to shut the door to, she sees them with their noses together and almost ‘aw’s’ at the sight. They say if your cat approves of someone, they’re a good bet. And she was starting to believe it. With Declan's big welcome hands, Robbie doesn’t budge from his lap as they chatter on about the trip, Declan’s muffled baby voice being heard from beyond the heavenly dull sound of the water hitting her skin. With her fingers digging into her scalp, the welcome smell of her shampoo wafting around her, steam filling up the glass and tile box, her body starts to relax, her mind starts to realize it’s home and everything begins to decompress, she lets out a groan, taking a deep breath and letting the water run over her. A simple drag of her hands over her breasts is enough to spark the thought in her mind. The previous thoughts of Declan’s big hands, even if they were being imaging just petting Robbie, she easily imagined it was another cat of hers those tattooed and seemingly nimble fingers was petting. She realized this might be the longest she’s gone without masturbating since...since she started? She bites her lips and considering waiting another night, but hearing his warm laugh come through the small crack in the door is enough to make her body react and she gives in.

A simple fantasy while her fingers work between her legs and she leans against the tile of the wall. Him coming in, catching her and not being able to resist. Getting to yank his clothes off and feel him wet and hard under her hands, lips hard against her skin and no reason to hold back the deep moans from his delectable throat. She wanted him, she beckoned him in to catch her as she rose closer to a fast finish, biting her lip to muffle the sounds, hand fast on her breast, fingers tweaking away at reddened peaks and fingers slick between her thick folds her eyes roll back and she finishes imagining him holding her up and fucking her against the shower wall. The vision slowly fades as her heart rate slows, and she feels like she’s a ton lighter. She hadn’t realized how badly she’d repressing that need. She was suddenly very proud of herself for not giving in on the trip.

As she exits, freshly shaven and scrubbed she facepalms as she realizes she didn’t bring her clothes in. Not being used to having someone around led her to forget that she couldn’t air dry on her way to the dresser. This was going to be painful no matter how she rolled it. Say nothing, walk out confident like she meant to do it, or be apologetic and scurry about saying, oh I forgot my clothes, sorry-sorry. It’s not like he’d be upset, he probably wouldn’t even care, so she goes for the first option.

With just a towel and now damp hair with the amount of time it took for her to make herself leave the bathroom in the state she was in, she makes her debut with her modest coverings. It wasn’t racy by any means, but seeing someone wet in a towel led to thoughts no matter the situation.

With a strong posture and a face set soft and friendly, she walks out with bare feet onto the hardwood floor. It doesn’t even take a second for his eyes to move up to meet her emerging form.

“Towels are in closet.” She smiles as he rises, not speaking. She thinks making eye contact might make it worse, or should she act like nothings weird.

He looks at her and feels a lump grow in his throat. He’s seen her in less on the trip why was this coming off so...erotic. Maybe it was because with one swoop he could move in and she’d be naked against him.

“I think I left you some hot water.” She jokes, a forward nod of her head. A clear sign to stop staring and get moving he thinks, clearing his throat and lowering his gaze.

“I’ll uh, be fine.” He says with a raspberry of his lips and goes to touch the door and misses. It cued a small soft chuckle from her that makes a lump grow somewhere else besides his throat.

“Still got it.” She mutters to herself and grins proudly as she shoots finger guns at her reflection before starting the process of choosing what to wear.

Inside the bathroom Declan was quick to turn on the water, leaning against the sinks counter and looking at the ground and exhaling noisily. What was it about being back home that made her seem more attractive to him? Was it that he promised he wouldn’t sleep with her on the trip and technically the trip was over? Was the comfort that settled into his muscles while she showered that made him more vulnerable? He didn’t know but he knew he had to get rid of this half hard intrusion between his legs. He tries to calm down first, hands in his hair, scrub the filth away he muses. But everything smelled like her, his hands on him reminded him that he wanted her to touch him, hands gliding over lean muscle he worked hard for. Knowing she’d been naked right where he was just moments ago, the air still warm, the loofa still sudsy. He looks down at his twitching cock and sighs. He’d done worse things in this bathroom before so might as well add jerking off to the list.

It didn’t take him long either, picturing her with droplets running down her pierced tits, getting soapy hands on her pert and weighted tits and that ass that had haunted him the entire night before. Those little panties, just under the hem of his hoodie. HIS hoodie over her, like she was his, like he had marked his territory and claimed that strong and curvy body underneath. A solid stomach with a touch of softness before the swell of soft lips and thick thighs. His mind pictures her rolling over in her sleep, in putting his hands under her shirt, down that black thong he’d seen and feeling her pant against him. His hand quickly became hers around his now throbbing cock, the leaking going unnoticed as the water ran down his chest to his stomach that had just a small amount of winter weight left on it. A thick fuzz from his chest to his thighs, dark and dense around an uncut cock that was close to giving in as it ached and reddened. His large hands didn’t swallow himself up in one go, his size able to compare to the rest of him. As soon as he imagines her moaning his name, feeling her hot and tight and wet around his fingers as she whimpers that she’s coming, his body takes the cue. Heavy balls pumping out a backed up release of wet dreams from his good behavior the past week. He could feel it deep in his stomach, clenching his jaw as it came out, shooting against the wall and to the floor in thick spurts. With the proof of how withdrawn he’d been now washing down the drain, he shakes his head and rubs his face hard, letting out a noise of frustration to clear his head. He still had to go back to bed with her and his cock twitches at the thought.

“Fuckin...down boy.” He angrily whispers and pushes it down, shaking his legs as he gets out of the shower. “Behave.” He grunts out.

Bella decided on a simple tank dress. Not too long or short, not trying too hard. Unlike her nipples which were practically screaming look at me in the thin material against the chilly air of the room. She sits under her covers, eating one of the burritos she’d heated up for them that he was so fond of.

He emerges shirtless. Although she deserves that. She gulps and pats the bed next to her, his thin sheets hanging from a torso that made her pelvic floor wanna snap her in two. A thick and untamed happy trail disappeared under loose pants, rounding over a perfect swell of belly that lead her eyes to two heavy and strong pecs that flex as he rubbed his hair with a towel, giving her time to ogle.

She shakes her head and tries to put on her good girl face as he raises his to meet hers. A tiny bit of cleavage and a covered lower half with her blankets makes it not impossible for him to act like he had a brain.

She pats the bed next to her. “Beer and burrito on the nightstand.” She announces proudly.

“God, you’re a saint.” He moans, his stomach rumbling.

“Nah. Just a fellow eater.” She smiles as she chews a mouthful of food.

A quick bite and a wash down of their favorite drinks makes for two exhausted and happy babies. “I don’t know the last time I was so tired.” She says snuggling down as he does the same between clean and soft sheets.

“Yeah tell me about it.” He yawns and stretches, leaving his legs splayed and arms up above his head and bent, looking like a meal laid out before her.

“Just cause we’re not forced to now, doesn’t me we can’t-?” She begins, eyes looking uncertain as they look over to him.

He simply reaches over and rolls to his side, grabbing her hip and pulling her to him. Her face is more than pleased, wanting to know it was okay to keep this up now. It was a hopeful start she thought. Also miraculous she still wanted to be close to him after being this long. She would’ve murdered Charlotte by now. But all she wanted was more of Declan. It was new...and it was nice. Only mildly terrifying but...still nice.

“Good.” She mumbles out between pooched lips as she snuggled into his chest.

“You set an alarm?” He asks.

“Nope. I say we sleep to whenever the fuck we want.” Her hand moves to wrap around his body, a rather bold move, not keeping her hands tucked against her own. It doesn’t go unnoticed by him, smiling as the warmth from her seemingly small hands against his skin.

“You’ve got the best ideas.” He mutters with a smile into her hair.

She nods in response and he feels it. His hands feeling bold to return with a new gesture of their own, reaching around her and waiting against her lower back, above the swell of her butt that wiggled as she got closer to him. “Night Declan.” A little voice much softer and breathier than before escapes her.

He grunts, kissing her hair and putting his arm underneath her. “Night babe.” He gives her, casual enough for him, but not her name like he had before.

She feels the warmth of domesticity flood her body. A catch in her chest she tries to hide. Was this what it was like to be with someone? This little slice of heaven she got to taste before buying into the whole deal? It’d been so long since she’d...had she ever slept with a man like this? With someone she liked, cared about, that dare she think felt the same about her. Her hand moves nervously, but she’s feeling warm and soft in his arms, the light blocking curtains and the lamps off, leave them in a suspended night that makes their emotions want to come out and play. Her fingers trace up and down his spine, a lazy back and forth that it only takes a minute for him to know isn’t accidental.

He grunts and resituates.

“Is that-?”

“S’good.” He mumbles out as she sees his lashes fan over his cheeks and the lovely trio of freckles on his cheek. His shapely lips blub out and she smiles, chin to his chest to look up at him. She smiles and sighs. “Keep goin’.” He follows up and she does so gladly. He returns the affection with a gentle rub of his thumb to her bare skin between her shoulder blades. Both fall asleep fast, and there wasn’t much to dream about seeing as that line that had been haunting them about crossing had finally been pushed. They didn’t really want to be anywhere else besides exactly where they were.

————

Bella was proud at how little she stalled Declan in leaving the next morning. It was hard not to pull him into a kiss to keep his warmth next to her all day. She woke in his arms and that’s where she’d wanted to stay. After he'd gotten up, all his noises throaty and rumbling from a deep sleep, his hair wild and curled naturally and looking like some magnificent lion hybrid she didn’t sense the feeling of wanting to be close to him fading. It looked like it was here to stay. But herein lay the problem. Bella wasn’t known for being the best at articulating her feelings. In fact, she was usually shit at it. Especially when they were romantic. After a young love gone terribly wrong it was hard to trust again, and when she thought herself able to move on, there was no one to be had that really lit anything within her. She’d been floating, loving her life alone and content with fulfilling her own wants and desires until the day she walked into that bar. She lay with huge sleep-tousled hair, leaving a lovely impression of sex hair on Declan as he emerged from the bathroom to find her barely sitting up and still rubbing her eyes. She was even cute in the morning. Oh man he had it bad didn’t he?

She made him breakfast, or a late lunch really at this time of day. She fueled him up, gave him his clean laundry and sent him on his way. With a chaste but affectionate hug and kiss to the head from him, he left looking well rested and happy. What more could she really want? A lot apparently her inner monologue was telling her. She noticed how quiet it was, how she had no one to tell the dumb things that popped into her head before she forgot them. No one and no reason to hold hands with and be close to. She finds herself looking at her phone in her hand as she plops onto the couch with a heavy sigh.

“Mrow?” Robbie asks, his little feet pressing into her stomach.

“I’m fine. Thanks for asking.” She grumbles and starches his chin.

He chirps and his tail swishes.

“I’m just...I feel off now. Like I forgot how to be alone.”

“Mmrrrlll.” He retorts and pushes into her mouth with his funny little mushed face.

“Sorry, I meant with another human.” She chuckles and scratches his favorite spot just above his tail. “Is it too soon to text him?” She asks, biting her lip. “Fucks sake.” She rolls her eyes. “Is it too soon?” She mocks herself in a high pitched voice. “Who the fuck am I? I don’t worry about dumb shit like that.” She groans. But with the work she’d put in before leaving, she didn’t have much else to do at home now. “Fuck it Robs.” She announces, throwing her hands up. “I’m gonna text him.” She says and puts her thumbs to the screen.

“Feels really weird without you bein connected to my hip now, I’ll be honest.” She types and considers it. Harmless and honest. Send.

Declan is back at work, his bags thrown back into his apartment as he’s faced with a VERY curious Mike who keeps judging him with his elbow.

“Soooo…” He keeps asking like he’ll get a new answer.

“What do you want dude? Nothing happened.” Declan claims again.

“And you’re a terrible liar.”

“Psh. That’s not true.”

“Well, maybe not but ya can’t hide things from me boyo.” He says with a wag of his finger.

“I’m not hiding. I’m not even wearing sleeves where do I have to hide?” He laughs and raises his arms.

“Behind that humor for starters eh?”

“Oh fuck you.” Declan groans and Mike laughs.

“Somethings different,” Mike claims again. “Besides you smellin' like a pretty lady.”

“I showered at her place.”

“Uh huh.” He says accusingly.

“Because we were gross from camping out for a week! Jesus.” He rolls his eyes.

“It’s in the eyes Declan.”

“It’s in the eyes, something different.” Declan mocks in a bad Irish accent. “Sound like my mom when I came home from Joe's party when we were kids.”

“Well if I recall you did pop your cherry at that party.” Mike laughs. “Mother’s...they know.”

“Oh yeah, I lost my virginity at the festival. Is that it?” He side eyes and smirks.

“Can’t lose it more than once big guy. Maybe she lost hers though eh?” He chuckles.

“Yeah... I don’t think she’s a virgin.” He snorts softly.

“There we are! Why do you think that? How would ya know? She tells every other guy but you to go fuck themselves.” Mike elaborates with a cheerful grin.

“She’s just...not.” Declan mumbles.

“Because she’s sexy, Mike. Ugh dude, I saw her and I just, I just knew man.” Mike mocks him and gets a punch to the arm.

“Shut up.” is Declan’s only come back.

“Mmmm interesting.” Mike nods.

“I saw her dance and...saw her not sober. She wasn’t shy like she... didn’t know what she was doin’.” He says quietly out of the side of his mouth.

“Well that’s...somethin’. That’s good, yeah?” He offers. “So not even a kiss then?”

“Nope.” He says, withholding the almost kiss Mother Nature herself cut short.

Then a buzz on his phone. He and Mike both look at it and Mike gives him a huge grin. “$5 It’s her.” Mike holds out his hand.

“But what if I want it to be? Why would I take that bet?”

“And he finally admits it!”

“I never denied it!” He says loudly reaching for his phone and posting up against the back of the bar.

“And the verdict?”

“You would’ve gotten 5 bucks.” He says with a smile that wasn’t meant for Mike.

“Oh look at him. That boyish smile. He’s got it bad, he does.” Mike continues wiping down the bar as Declan flips him off only for a second before responding.

“I was thinking the same thing babe.” He grins to himself. Mike notices but just thinks it’s rather adorable now. Declan was never good at hiding his emotions.

“Is this what Siamese twins feel like after they're separated?” Bella sends in response and he feels a flutter in his stomach. She could be sweet, you just had to know how to translate.

“I don’t think we were quite that close lol.”

“Speak for yourself. How do you explain this massive scar on my hip?” he snorts at her response.

“Oh yeah, I stole your kidneys. Should’ve mentioned that.”

“I knew it. Using me for my organs. How'd I let this happen again?”

“Again?!” He laughs out loud and Mike rolls his eyes.

———-

The next day while Bella’s back at work she’s shuffling around her office. She felt like a change, rearranging her shelves contents, putting together a new chair she’d ordered from IKEA, she had her music on and her door open as she mulled around.

This went unnoticed by no one in the office. Bella didn’t leave her door open and she didn’t listen to music without headphones. She came in and even said hello to the girls that morning. They were all dying to know what happened while she was away, but knew better than to ask. So it was left to the one that could, CeeCee.

“So…” She begins, hip presses against the doorframe of Bella’s office. “Trip go well?”

“Yeah it was good. Great line up this year.” Bella nods.

“Am I supposed to ignore the fact that you’re listening to Sam Cooke?” She smirks.

“What? He’s only a timeless genius.” She stops and leans on her desk.

“There are usually implications involved when this sort of music is listened to.” she insinuates with narrowed eyes, taking a noisy sip of her coffee.

“There is nothing different now than it was when I left.” is the cryptic answer she gives.

“Mmm.” She nods, tucking her strawberry blonde hair behind her ear. “Who’d you end up taking anyway?”

Bella doesn’t miss a beat. “You don’t know them.”

“Try me.” CeeCee challenges with a nod.

“I’d rather not.” Bella shoots a more playful warning glance her way. Then he phones buzzes again at her black patent desk.

“Seems you forgot some stuff in the van. I can give it to you when you come by the bar but it’s a little...it’s panties. lol”

“I’ve got to take this,” Bella says with busy thumbs that makes her friend roll her eyes and stroll away. “Why are you stealing my panties Declan? Seems beneath you.”

“Thank you for thinking it is. lol But they we’re in one of my laundry bags by accident.”

“Good to know... I can pick them up after work. No big. Just don’t wave them around or put them up the flagpole or something.” She kids, a smirk on her lips.

“Whoops.”

She puffs at his reply. “Rude.”

“I thought you liked Salute Your Shorts?”

“I did, good pull, but that’s a bit too literally for my taste.”

“You were singing the theme when you were drunk because we walked by a pair of boxers on a pole. How could I forget?”

“I’m glad I can then. lol I can’t stay tonight, have lots of mixing to do this week and I need quiet and no distractions. But I can pop in. That work?”

“That works.” He signs off with a nod. He wanted her to stay, get a feel of what she was thinking but he admired how she worked and that wouldn’t stop now. Besides, he knew Mike would be analyzing her every move.

——

He supposes he just hadn’t known what to expect when she walked through the doors. After seeing her in such wild outfits over the festival maybe he expected her to be the same now. But she bounced in, a t-shirt dress with a v neck that he could tell was soft before he even touched it. Hugging her body just right, her feet adorning black vans with the green camo print of the dress looked entirely charming to him.

Mikes eyes were glued to them both as he pretended to be busy.

“Hey babe.” Declan practically sighs out, meeting her at the edge of the bar and wrapping his big arms around her tightly.

“Hey.” A soft matched sigh of affection to match his escapes her. She inhales him, missing the way he smelled, missing having him around, the masculine touch he added to a space or conversation just by being there. Their eyes shut for a moment of indulgence. Hands on backs gently rubbing back and forth before slowly parting, palms flat against each other’s bodies as they pulled apart hesitantly.

“I’ve got your stuff, c’mon back.” He says with a nod. She gives him a quick one back and can almost hear the assumptions of the men in the bar looking her up and down. They’d be half right, but she hadn’t left anything with him for the reasons they were thinking. “I hid them in one of my shirts so they weren’t just...layin' around.” He offers it to her with a soft huff of a laugh.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.” She finds her words short, hands passing over the others intently with a slow drag as the skin to skin was already missed by them both. She could’ve just put the underwear in her bag, it’s why she’d brought it in. But the chance to take one of his shirts home with her? She’d never pass up the chance. “Be a little brow-raising to just leave with a fistful of panties huh?” She grins.

“A little.” He smiles as her almost bashful behavior as she tucks her hair behind her ear and holds the shirt to her chest. “You sure you can’t stay?” He offers, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks down at her with a plea in his eyes.

It was hard to turn down those deep hazel puppy dog eyes. But she had to. “Yeah, unfortunately. Trust me,” she offers with a hand to his arm. “I want to I just have work to catch up on.”

“Nah it’s cool, I get it.” He nods. “I’ll walk ya back out then.” He holds the swinging door open and with a hand on her back, he walks her out to her truck.

“Thanks again. I know I haven’t been saying much but...busy...like I said. And not in that ignoring you but being polite way.” She insists with a smile.

“I do admire your honesty.” He chuckles as her almost goofy smile as she really tries to show him she isn’t being sparse for any reason other than work. “I’ll let ya go then. Thanks for coming by, even if it was just for a little bit.” His face looks so soft and open and she finds herself jealous. Why couldn’t she be like that? She felt like a locked and shut box beneath his gaze.

“Yeah, it was good to see you.” She managed and it’s enough for now for him. He leans in for another hug. This one without prying eyes that he’s aware of and kisses her cheek in a spur of the moment decision. It turns rosy under his touch and he wants to do it again. Then again and onto her lips. With a blush, she tucks her hair behind her ear and bows her head down. “I’ll text you later.” She offers with big green eyes that catch the yellowing lights of the bar sign.

“You know where I’ll be.” He replies with a disarmingly charming smile, hands in his pockets as he walks backward and leaves her to her feelings.

“Aw look at ya now.” Mike coos as soon as the door shuts behind Declan. “Two kids in love. I do love love.” He sighs.

“Jumping the gun on that one.” Declan says with a nod and a sigh.

“What no date yet?” Mike asks surprised.

“Very funny.” Declan mocks.

“Did she say no?”

“I didn’t ask her to marry me Mike what the hell.”

“No! I meant a date. Like goin' out.” He responds fast. “But good to know where your heads at.” he shoots him a wink.

“I didn’t ask.”

“Why the fuck not?” he says with exasperated outstretched hands. “Did ya see how the lass looked at ya? All that blushin' and tuckin' her hair back? I’ve not seen her that bashful since I’ve met her. And smilin’? Ya kiddin’ me? She likes ya boyo just...go! You fuckin idiot go ask!” He shoves his shoulder.

“R-really? She’s probably-“ he gets cut off.

“You go fuckin' see ya little boy! Go ask her out on a date like a man.” He says hitting his chest and being insistent.

Declan turns and looks to the door, taking a breath and his long legs carrying him quickly. Luckily for him, Bella’s was processing that kiss to the cheek and was moving slow. Wondering if she had time to stay for a drink before going home. So when she sees him reappear and tap on his window her hearts in her throat.

“Hey.” He simply states with a nod of his head.

“Hey?” She asks back with a small smile.

“You wanna...go do something this weekend?” He asks with an entirely unsure face that she found to ease her nerves. He was just as bad as she was at this. She found it comforting.

“You aren’t sick of me yet?” She asks, the time being teasing but it was an entirely honest question.

“Not at all.” The certainty was back in his eyes, his head shaking a bit to drive the point home.

She nods before speaking. “Okay. Yeah.” She swallows, just act cool Bella.

“Yeah?” He tilts his head like a puppy and smiles with a wrinkled nose.

“Yes.” She nods and smiles. “Do you know what you wanna do?” She offers up, trying to hide the slump in her posture from forcing out her words.

His eyes blink, mouth parted for a moment before he realizes he, in fact, does not. “Uh. No.” He admits with a laugh that draws one from her too. “Just wanted to spend time with you.” He adds and she can’t believe his ability to recover and come back even smoother than he was before.

Another tuck of hair, another sheepish smile that looks away before it makes eye contact again. She nods. “That’s good enough for me.” Her voice is soft and the vulnerability in it makes his head spin.

“I’ll think of something.” He nods and promises. “Something kick ass.” He beams.

“I know you will.” She smiles softly at him over lashes that are trying not to flutter.

He reaches into the truck and she puts her hand in his instinctively. The touch they’d both been wanting. “Drive safe. Lemme know you got home okay alright?” He offers with a warm tone that makes her skin sweat. His thumb rubs the back of her hand before a little squeeze is shared and he pulls away.

“I will.” She agrees and gathers herself. “Night Declan.” She replies with a more sly smile, seeing his shoulders slump slightly at the use of his name.

“Night Bells.” He sighs out, smiling with a closed mouth and shoving his hands into his pockets once again.

He watches her drive away. He’s just asked her out. And she knew what he meant. And she still said yes. This was actually happening. With no moves too aggressive this could still turn out to be just as innocent as he was prepared to act like it could be. He still had to be gentle and patient with her. Her cool exterior now broken as she stuttered at his affection. But it made him feel powerful, a rush to affect someone as tough and hard as her. Maybe all that idle wishing she might also see him as more than a friend had accomplished something. Now he just had to figure out something for them to do.

Please leave a like, reblog or comment if you enjoyed this! It makes me want to write more of what you want if you let me know!

@vale0413 @littledeadgirlwalking @jaegeeeeer @phillipkopusimagines-and-stuff @mjolnir96 @xmother-mortemx @this-isnt-madness @thors-hair-extensions

#Declan Harp #frontier #declan harp x reader #declan harp fanfic #declan harp fan fiction #declan harp fic #declan harp au #frontier au #frontier modern au #declan harp modern #frontier fanfic #frontier fan fiction #jason momoa frontier #frontier fic #frontier fandom #frontier fan fic #jason momoa #declan harp x ofc #declan harp x oc

59 notes · View notes

startofamoment · 6 years ago

Text

to all the WIPs i’ve loved before

rules: post your favorite parts of 3-5 fics that have been sitting abandoned in your drafts for ages. (for extra shame, throw in when you last worked on each thing.) tag 5 other writers to reflect on their life choices.

a pen pals au of sorts in which jake and amy share a desk and communicate via post-it notes (last edited: december 2017)

Amy is going to murder her deskmate.

The literal trash heap that greeted her last Monday was one thing, the sticky orange soda stain from last month was another thing, but this – this blatant disregard of property and boundaries and the sanctity of office supplies – is the Last Straw.

Spread out across her entire desk is a good fourth of the Post-it notes from the brand new assorted set she got from her brother Tony. They’re all arranged to look like various Star Wars icons, and a few of them are filled in with marker for apparent color correction. It’s horrifying.

Grumbling, she begins taking apart Post-It Yoda, keeping the salvageable pieces in a stack and throwing out the rest. When she’s cleared her entire table, she grabs her favorite pen and a fresh sheet then writes:

Hi, Please refrain from wasting my Post-its in the future. Thank you. - Det. Amy Santiago

She stares at it for a moment and decides, since this is probably the only passive aggressive note she’s going to write her deskmate, she might as well add:

PS: I would appreciate it if you would leave our desk clean at the end of your weekend shifts.

After checking it over once more, she places it in the center of her desk, ready to be read the following Saturday.

a dianetti cake shop au in which rosa owns and runs a store called arlo’s (last edited: june 2017)

Gina takes a moment to look over some of the cakes on display before clearing her throat and leaning over the counter. “’Scuse me, can you help me get a custom cake order started?”

“Sure.” The baker wipes her hands on a dish towel before grabbing a small notebook and pen from one of her pockets. “What’s the occasion?”

“Some old geezer’s leaving our precinct to enjoy retired life, or something like that.”

“Retirement party? Cool. Tell me about this guy.”

“Oh, sweetie, I don’t know or care about him. I’m just here cause my boss told me to order a cake.”

A smirk forms on the baker’s lips. “Ha. Do you wanna just do a standard cake order then? I usually do the custom cakes for more personalized, special events.”

“That’s probably smart. Which one of your standard cakes say: ‘Congrats on being old and rich enough to never work another day in your life, but sorry you’re almost dead’?”

She snickers. “I don’t know about that first part, but how ‘bout an angel food cake as a ‘hope you go to heaven when you die’ sort of thing?”

Gina grins and fishes through her purse for her wallet. “Oh, you should know my expectations on this cake are out of this world high. I’m only here because Yelp told me you’re the Beyonce of baking.” (Actually, she’s here because at least three reviews claimed the baker-slash-owner was “terrifying” and “gorgeous.” – They were right, on both accounts.)

a sequel to i could listen to you all day // the “after ever after” story in which jake and amy navigate their first year together as soulmates (last edited: march 2017)

Jake’s phone buzzed on his desk, breaking him out of his happy daydream. He picked it up and opened a new message from Gina.

“god, quit making heart eyes at the new girl!! your conscience would be v disappointed, kiddo.”

Gina, who had been watching him like a hawk from her desk, expected him to get all flustered and to text or yell back something overly defensive. She raised a single eyebrow when his face instead broke into a goofy grin and he straight up giggled.

Across from him, Amy looked up from her case files. “What’s so funny?”

He shook his head and mumbled something about memes and the internet.

She rolled her eyes, but the corners of her lips curled up into a smile. After he redirected his attention to his computer screen, her expression morphed into the same openly adoring look he had on his face the entire morning.

And then it all clicked.

If Gina had stopped to think about it, she would have recognized the new disappointment she felt in both herself (for taking this long to put two and two together) and her childhood best friend (for not keeping her in the loop). As she had not stopped to process anything, she instead yelled across the bullpen: “OH MY GOD. JAKE AND AMY ARE SOULMATES!”

All work stopped, and everyone fell silent. For a good minute, all that could be heard was the faint snoring from Captain McGintley’s office.

“Gina,” Rosa half-snarled, half-whispered. “You can’t just say that.”

“Oops, my b. Y’all know I have no conscience now so…” She giggled, winked at the leather-clad detective, and went back to her game of Kwazy Cupcakes.

Jake let out an awkward laugh. “Well, uh, that was -”

Out of nowhere, Charles appeared right in front of their desks. “Is it true, Jakey? Was Amy the voice in your head all this time?”

“I -” He glanced at Amy for help.

She bit her lip and shrugged.

This wasn’t at all how he envisioned making the announcement, but there was no use denying it. Still looking straight at her, his face softened into a smile. “Yeah… We’re soulmates.”

Charles squealed loudly. “You said the S word! Does that mean it’s official?” He gasped. “Have you said ‘I love you’? Have you met each other’s parents? When’s the wedding? What are you naming your first child?”

pretty much a crack fic inspired by the media’s post-olympics obsession with tessa and scott // my spin on a vm au bc i still refuse to write jake and amy as ice dancers (last edited: may 2018)

Like many of the other bizarre situations he’s found himself in, this all started with Gina. Over the last year or so, she’d been posting random photos and videos of all of them at the precinct. (“I’m devoting my energy to my new project, Ginazon,” she’d declared to the entire bullpen. “It’s a one-stop online portal for my legions of followers. I’m just giving the people what they want!”) Given that this was Gina of all people, Jake wasn’t at all surprised to find out that each post garnered hundreds of likes, but he’d never bothered to venture into the comments section. He’d never known about the apparent niche following that had formed, the group of fans – for lack of a better word – waiting with bated breath for him and Amy to get together.

Charles had only spurred them on, what with all the various Easter eggs on his culinary blog. (“This place has everything,” he’d written once. “My co-workers Jake and Amy even gave it their stamp of approval after they’d shared a quick lunch there before a long stakeout. Make sure to ask for the winter salsa; it’s wonderful!”) He’d sworn that none of it was intentional and that he would never do anything to sell them out, but everything he’d written had still been catalogued and analyzed by the pseudo-experts of the fandom. At this point, Jake’s main regret is not reading Charles’ weekly email blasts.

Their downfall – or rise to viral glory – came when someone from the so-called G-Hive happened to be in just the right place at just the right time, catching their (second) completely-platonic, spur-of-the-moment, done-in-the-name-of-justice kiss on camera. By the next morning, “Undercover Cops Lock Lips Before Locking Up Wanted Criminal” had been viewed on YouTube over a million times.

With everything about the entire situation already being so weird, they’d decided to just ignore their newfound fame in the same way they’d pretended the kisses never happened. (“We’re a great team. We work great together. Nothing should mess that up,” he’d said, repeating nearly his exact words from the night before.)

Evidently, there was no escaping this though. A formal press conference was set up, which wasn’t too out of the ordinary for cases that caught the general public’s attention, except they’d ended up having to say more about their dating lives than the investigation or arrest. He can still feel his heart lurching in his chest at the first relationship-related question, still hear Amy loudly stammering out some vague answer about being “very professional.”

a smutty soulmate au in which jake and amy unknowingly share dreams every now and then (last edited: november 2017)

At this moment in time, Amy Santiago is undeniably, incomparably, drop dead gorgeous.

More specifically: she’s in the hot red dress Kylie convinced her to buy on their last post-trivia night celebratory shopping spree; she’s wearing a matching killer shade of lipstick picked out by her fashion-forward, shockingly sexual 13-year-old niece; and she’s got her hair swept into that one elegant yet fun side ponytail that caught her eye in a magazine a few weeks back.

Normally, she’d be proud of herself for managing to pull off such a look, except–

It’s been a good several hours since she tossed her dress into the hamper, wiped the makeup off her face, and tugged the elastic tie from her hair. She’d buried her head into her pillow and wheeze-cried herself to sleep shortly after changing into her pajamas, so overwhelmed with shame and disappointment over the night’s party-gone-wrong.

The thick haze shrouding her current surroundings tells her she’s in another one of her soulmate’s dreams, which helps a tiny bit in explaining her current appearance but really opens up more questions than answers.

tagging: @santiagoswagger @three-drink-amy @do-me-decimalsystem @arnie-santiago @sergeant-santiago

for the record, this was inspired by @disruptedvice and @elsaclack’s responses [x,x] to the writing meme!! i thought it was super clever of them to feature little snippets from various works and felt this would be a good way to give unfinished/abandoned fics some love!

#writing meme #wip meme #tag game #b99 au #i'm honestly shookt at the last edit dates on these #why am i like this #ngl i just wanted an excuse to post some of these bc i'm fairly certain they won't ever be finished RIP #if anyone else wants to do this pls feel free!!!#my stuff

47 notes · View notes

jaimistoryteller · 6 years ago

Text

Jaimi’s Update

5/6/19 Update

Hi All

Thank you all for continuing to share Shelk’s GoFundMe, I really appreciate it and it’s been helping. Now on to that update I keep planning and not seeming to get to.

This is a long post, so I will put it below a cut.

About Me First

So March and April were both massively long and a more then a little painful, both physically and mentally. I had a depressive spiral because of something someone said, cause even though they hadn’t meant to set one off, their word choice did not help. I got it just about under control and someone else said something that sent it right back down. I finally got it under control again, back in the slow drag of getting out of it. Not that I know for a fact it will work or not. Life is never that easy.

I spent way too much of the two months on the go, to the point where my body shut down a couple of different times and I was completely useless. At least I accomplished my goals though, even if I paid massively for them.

I have a new therapist, she’s lovely but it’s frustrating, because I did not want to be changing therapists in the middle of shit going wrong, but alas it was a thing that had to happen since my previous one is officially retired for a variety of reasons (and I hope he enjoys it too!).

Despite my best efforts, I am a foster fail again, and have a new cat, he is adorable and loveable. I’ve named him Silver for his chest and markings.

[ID: Silver the cat laying partly on the laptop keyboard]

I’m trying to figure out how to pay my electric, it’s due on the 10th, I should have made a post on it, but I’ve been more focused on making sure my sister doesn’t lose her home. Plus I was under therapist orders not to think of anything money or work related for three days during this last weekend.

Winston

[ID: Winston the rottweiler service pup laying on my lap while I pet him]

He’s doing perfect on his training, already has two of his tasks completely down, working on getting several more down.

Unfortunately, there have been several problems with store peeps despite the fact I make sure he has his harness on and his leash on that says he is a service dog. They keep making a fit over the fact he’s a rottweiler, I even had one say it directly to my face.

So I’ve ordered a bunch of business cards with the ADA online address on them, a copy of the two questions they can legally ask on the front:

Is that a service dog?

What tasks does your service dog perform for you?

On the back I put the four points people keep missing the most, copied directly from the ADA FAQ:

Staff are not allowed to request any documentation for the dog, require the dog demonstrate its task, or inquire about the nature of the person’s disability.

The ADA does not require service animals to wear a vest, ID tag, or specific harness.

Covered entities may not require documentation, such as proof that the animal has been certified, trained, or licensed as a service animal, as a condition for entry.

Michigan has a voluntary registration program but it is not required.

The last point is from the state ADA, rather then the Federal one. If I had more room, I would have included the fact it’s illegal to try and force a registration, but alas business cards aren’t that big.

I knew when I got him there was going to be questions because he’s so big, I hadn’t realized how foolish peeps were going to be over his breed.

Both his leash and harness say Service Dog on them, but because I didn’t go out and buy the specialized one, but a training harness which was a lot cheaper and works for our needs just as well, people like to question it often. To the point where I even had one person tell me to get out of the store because someone else’s dog acted up, so mine couldn’t really be a service dog. Seriously, then she tried to back it with the ADA, while breaking the first three points from the back, and then insisting that the Michigan registry is required.

Seriously, she’s one of the reasons I made the cards, right after I reported her and her boss, since she was insisting she checked with her boss, and her boss agreed. I even stressed to both the ADA and her company I didn’t want either fired, I wanted them properly trained, it should not be the customer’s job to print off the law and bring it in to make a point, just to keep shopping.

I refuse to go back to having days I can’t go to the store because others want to have a problem with my awesome boy. If they have a problem with another dog, that’s the other dog’s handlers problem, not mine. To take it out on me is unprofessional.

Shelk & Lot Rent

All of you peeps who have shared it (particularly you awesome one @noregretsnotearsnoanxieties) are wonderful! I appreciate all of the help. Shelk is flabbergasted and thankful beyond words for all the help.

Last month we were able to get $555 within the $3,600. The lot owner accepted that, which set the eviction notice back to the 15th of this month.

Right now we are at $150 this month, which is great as we are trying to get to at least $300, as that would pay at least one month. Currently she owes $3,345 between past and current due.

A wonderful peep has said they are going to try and do something mid-month after getting paid, so I am rather hopeful, and I will be continuing to share, with updates every time there is a donation.

Unexpected Meeting Kickstarter

I know I have two digital rewards to finish, I have been working on them, they will be posted by the end of this month.

I am also going to start ordering the stuff to send out to people, getting the bookmarks, magnets, posters, and other goodies ready while the book is being edited. I can happily report the first few chapters have been looked at, though I have not yet had a chance to check the edits, which is why I haven’t shared snippets yet.

It didn’t help that one of the rewards got corrupted when my computer updated in the middle of a save. Anyways, I’m excited! So bloody excited!

Converging Lives

I will hopefully be returning to updating my @converginglives blog this week, I miss being able to post stuff there plus I still have the Spring 2019 A to Z Event to finish.

I am also working on an actual website for it, which will have pretty much everything from the tumblr blog but in an organized method as I am tired of arguing with tumblr about it when making sure it’s in website format.

Fanfic

Seeking is DONE - again. This time I emailed myself the file as well as typing it in google docs. Then of course docs didn’t have the problems it had last time. After 18 months of not being able to work on it, my muse finally got on the game. I’m so bloody pleased with that. I posted one chapter tonight, next Monday I will post the last chapter.

I plan on posting the last chapter of Challenge Accepted on Wednesday as it’s done and I just need post it.

I’m planning on working on Advent, Playful Stress Relief, Blessed, and Learning to Live. Why those ones?

Advent is rough drafted out, might as well finish it. Besides, I don’t like the fact my lovely and fluff filled thing is still stuck in limbo.

Playful Stress Relief is nearly done, I think editing was all I had left on that particular last chapter to finish it, though don’t quote me. It’s been awhile since I checked it.

Blessed is calling me, though only lightly, and I’m not even sure there are peeps waiting for it, but hey whatevers.

Learning to Live got a lovely comment which made me smile, in the height of a massive episode. I am updating it for that person, hopefully it will let me get on a roll and finish my oldest fanfic.

You wanna see one of the other ones updated? Leave a comment on it, not just a “update please” but something you like, or a question, or even a smile face. Update please doesn’t encourage me, but pretty much everything else does.

Cosmos Market

This is still being worked on, for those who don’t know what the market is, here is a link to the last post made on it. I’ll probably be updating it sometime in the near future, but at this moment that is a pretty good definition of it.

I want -- need -- to get the market off the ground so I can stop needing to ask for help as I will have at least a small and stable income going.

I’m not planning on making a lot off of it, just enough to pay my base bills, which will not put me out of the poverty line. I do expect it to be a success, however I plan on putting money into my employees and building instead. My sister being one of those employees in order to help her stop needing to ask for help as well since she’s been struggling to find a job.

The market isn’t the only thing on the planner for business, it’s just the one I am focused on right this moment, though I have been eyeing my second rather heavily lately too, as it would be a much more passive situation for me to deal with.

Disability

A lot of you know that I’ve applied for it in the past and was turned down as “disabled but not disabled enough”. I have reapplied for it. Why? Because I am still disabled, and a lot of times, things are worse then they were the last time I applied.

This time I have been sent to deal with so many new doctors it’s making me want to scream. I don’t deal well with new people. Yet I have to. A lot. It’s frustrating beyond words. Still, if it helps over all, I will do whatever I must.

It’s seriously my hope to get to the point where I can put it on hold, and only use it when I have a really bad flare up. Yes, things have been closer to stable since I got Winston, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t problems going on. I had a depressive spiral that lasted five bloody weeks. Sometimes I was able to force myself to get stuff done, other times I couldn’t even get out of bed because of my mind. It’s hard to be stable with that situation going on.

Knowing my bills will be dealt with even if I can’t get out of bed would help a great deal. Far more than I really want to admit. At last, that’s the way it goes.

Links

Rather then put the links in this mess, I will make a post just for them and then add the link to it here for those who want to share it. Any sharing would be appreciated as it helps more than you would imagine.

I know a lot of people don’t have money, and while money is needed, that is not what I am asking for, all I am asking for is you take the time to share. Just a few seconds, a couple of clicks, can make a world of difference.

While a lot of the links are about me, not all of them are as I also put up links to others who have helped me and friends who are in different tight situations. I’m a firm believer in paying it forward in any way possible.

Link to Links

Previous Updates

5/1/19 & 5/3/19

4/24/19

3/9/19 & Links

3/1/19

2/14/19

1/24/19

1/16/19

1/5/19

12/27/17 & 12/28/18

12/22/18

12/19/18

12/6/18 & 12/8/18

#ableism #Jaimi's Updates #winston's update #updates #about me #long post

6 notes · View notes

waveypedia · 6 years ago

Text

Family

(this fic is crazy long sorry bout that. over 7k words!!!!)

The void is just that - a void. Empty, dark, endless space for miles beyond what Lena can see. Nothing above and nothing below. She floats, but if she tries to move she can walk on the empty air. Not that there’s any point in walking, mind you, because the void is so blank and symmetrical that however long Lena walks, it feels like she’s only been walking in place. She doesn’t know if she’s moved at all, since everything looks, feels, and sounds exactly the same.

She’s alone, which is odd. Magica has made millions upon millions of shadows in her century of life, and they had to go somewhere after they were vanquished. But she has fifteen years of life and a personality over them, and somehow that sets her apart in her own little world.

Maybe if she walked far enough, for long enough, she could find them. But however bored she is, Lena has no interest in that. She’s different. She would never be accepted among the shadows even if they could communicate.

Even among her own kind, she has no family.

There isn’t much to do other than to hover and think. Which is good, because she has a lot to think about.

Lena thinks about her time with Magica, about all the little spells she’s picked up, the lava lamp that calmed her down during panic attacks, the dizzyingly relaxing feeling of waves lapping at her ankles. She thinks about soft, too-big sweaters recently snuck out of the laundromat and fake-sweet candy from the theater vending machine. She thinks about random snippets of conversations, overheard and not, that float randomly in and out of her head.

But mostly, she thinks about family.

She thinks about Webby, the way she always laughed at Lena’s jokes no matter how dumb, her overjoyed smile when she blew up the fist bump at the Beagle Boy party. She thinks of Huey, of his insistence that she wear a coat when she starts snowball fights in the mansion’s ginormous lawn. She thinks of Dewey, his boundless energy and the way he always roped her into dumb pranks on his poor uncles. She thinks of Louie, of his sly tongue and morally grey ways that reminded her of herself but when his boundless love for family made her pull away. She thinks of Launchpad, of his contagious love for a show she would have never cared about otherwise and the way he always treated her just like another kid, another friend. She thinks of Duckworth, of the way there were always extra pajamas and blankets waiting for her, mysteriously exactly her size, even if she wasn’t going to sleep over. She thinks of Donald, of the band posters collecting dust that she snuck off, the way he ruffles her feathers with a wary care, but a care all the same. She thinks of Beakley, of tight, quick hugs and extra plates of steaming hot pancakes placed discreetly in front of her when Magica hadn’t let her eat in a few days. She thinks of Scrooge, of his hopeful, world-changing promise despite his knowledge of her lineage. His desperate cry as she was yanked away from the living world echoes in her ears.

Lena hugs her knees to her chest, her head spinning with longing and anxieties. She meant something to them. She had to, for them to treat her the way they did. But she knows she can never go back. They never knew the truth about her.

Well, Scrooge did. But over and over Lena internally debates whether it was an act of love or desperation.

She fights endlessly to be free of her new blank reality, but she’s not sure if she has a family to go back to.

Lena spares more than a glance at the piece of paper lying abandoned on the dining room table. Huey has gone to the bathroom, leaving his math homework vulnerable to her curious eyes. The problems are far beyond the basic math Magica has allowed her to learn. She slowly traces the detailed solution with her eyes multiple times, but it makes no sense.

She wrenches her gaze away. Not worth the trouble. She doesn’t need math.

Curiosity and shame burns in her stomach, and she snatches another glance.

Still incomprehensible, just like Aunt Magica’s ancient Italian spellbooks.

Lena scowls. It’s not like she expected anything else, but it still hurts.

A hand lands gently on her shoulder and she jumps nearly a foot in the air, heart in her throat. Huey only gives her a gentle smile, turning a blind eye to her panic. He lays a finger on the paper. “To find the angle measure, you need to place the measure of the opposite side over the adjacent one.” He points to the sides in question. “Graphing calculators have functions for trigonometry inverse, so you need to press the second button and then the tan one…”

Later, Lena tunes out Aunt Magica’s lecturing about how she made no progress in her visit to McDuck Manor and reviews the problem. She changes the numbers. She checks her answer. It makes sense.

She can’t hide the tiny but triumphant smile that sneaks its way onto her beak. Victory burns in her stomach, blazing away the midnight chill. Magica stops her lecturing to indignantly snap at her, but the smile stays.

Lena goes over the problem in her head again, changing the numbers over and over. She can solve it flawlessly by now. She’s done it so many times the steps slide into place like a well-oiled machine. It’s almost boring, but it’s much better than wallowing in her pity.

She’s thankful for Huey for teaching her. Even though the moment was embarrassing, him knowing that she doesn’t know math, the problem has spared her a lot of boredom.

Lena slips into the yard as quietly as she can. The triplets are playing tag together, shouting and laughing, their breath making misty clouds in the cold air. She’s looking for Webby, or Scrooge’s Number One Dime, anything that will get Magica off her back. She’s not particularly interested in the nephews, nor does she intend for them to notice her. If she steals a certain important artifact of Scrooge’s, the fewer people that know she is even here the better.

But she’s out of luck. To her surprise Dewey breaks his swerving path away from Louie to barrel towards her at the edge of the yard. As he brushes past her, he grabs her hand, pulling her along.

Lena’s too surprised to react. Her legs move out of instinct, and when she realizes what happened she’s running alongside Dewey. He’s looking at her, his face split into a huge grin and his eyes crinkling with laughter. “Come join us, Lena!”

A hundred lies rise to Lena’s tongue, most of them having to do with Webby. But she realizes that she’s enjoying herself, and the thought of Dewey’s face falling at her dismissal puts a wedge beside her heart. So she swallows them and smiles back, running alongside the boy in blue.

They keep holding hands, the warmth of each other’s touch pushing them on, neither really aware of it. They only break apart when a cackling Huey veers straight for them and they dive apart, fits of giggles breaking their panicked facade.

Months later, Lena’s still not sure why Dewey chose to invite her. She was Webby’s friend, not his. Webby wasn’t even there. She never did see Webby that day. But the game, and the cozy hot chocolate afterwards, was worth the beating from Magica.

Lena’s phone buzzes. It’s an unknown number. hey, wanna come over? we’re watching a dwd marathon and having a takeout taste test. my idea

Her heart squeezes. Out here, in the dreary rain, soaked to her skin while Magica practices complicated spells with a magical umbrella, Darkwing Duck and takeout food sounds like heaven.

Making sure Magica isn’t watching, she reaches for her phone. sorry, u have the wrong number.

Usually she would leave it at that, but Webby’s voice echoes in her head. She always says that strangers are just friends you haven’t met and the internet is full of them. You should always be kind to strangers because they could be your new best friend! That’s how we became friends!

She pulls the text conversation back up and adds, have fun!

Lena stares at her phone for a minute longer, but there’s no response. Typical. They probably deleted the conversation already. She shuts her phone off and tucks it away in her pocket.

It buzzes again.

Hope blooms in Lena’s chest. She yanks her phone back out, reading the text with hungry eyes.

lena, right? it’s louie

Lena stares at the text, stunned. She isn’t sure how to respond at first. She may have hoped for this, but she never in a million years would have expected it. oh sorry my b. how did you get my number? webby doesn’t have a phone

Louie’s already typing when it sends. i have my ways. u coming or not? i gotta tell hue how much food to order

Lena glances at Magica. She’s still preoccupied.

She waits until she’s snuck off to the local grocery store, hidden among the frozen broccoli, before responding. yeah totally. see u in a few.

see ya.

Other people are staring. It’s to be expected, as she’s a lone drenched teenager in a family grocery store. But instead of slinking off into the shadows like she usually does, Lena tucks her phone away and smiles. She walks with her head held high, heading straight for McDuck Manor.

The thought of food makes Lena’s stomach growl. She hasn’t eaten in however long she’s been here. She has no way of telling time.

Shadows don’t need food, but starving is never pleasant. Being in the void means she has little to take her mind off of the hunger gnawing at the edge of her stomach. The thought of food, especially good food, makes it ache even more.

But the memory is worth it. She had a wonderful night out of the cold rain, away from Magica, snuggled in Webby’s soft blankets and eating heaps of pizza and french fries. She had felt more relaxed than usual, despite the looming eclipse and how Magica’s plans were starting to take form. They worried her.

The fear still lingered at the back of her mind, but Lena was able to push it far away and focus on the here and now, eating junk food and laughing at the TV with her family.

Family.

The word came into Lena’s train of thought naturally. But she wasn’t sure if it belonged.

They were a magnificent family, everything she had always wanted. But she never belonged.

She could only hope that maybe, just maybe, things could change in the future.

Lena would have never tried entering through the garage if she knew someone lived there.

At first, her entry went smoothly. There was a swinging door beside the traditional garage door, with a lock that was very easily picked. That was when what she thought was her good luck ended.

She slips through piles of old newspapers and priceless artifacts alike, rushing through so Magica couldn’t get a good look at anything and make her steal something. Spotting a small door next to a tarnished silver mirror that probably held three separate curses, she took her chance and swings it open.

The next room is only like the first in its clutter. But instead of hard-earned treasure, old burritos are scattered about. Vague, off-center posters cover the walls and a small string of Christmas lights hang from the loft. Magica mutters disgustedly in the back of Lena’s head, but her curses fade in comparison to Lena’s current predicament.

A duck, one Lena only recognizes after her panic begins to ease, is lounging on a hammock in front of the TV. She recognizes the theme song - Darkwing Duck - from her TV night a few weeks ago, but it doesn’t click at first.

Lena stares, and he stares back.

After a moment, Launchpad grins wide as can be and gestures to an open spot on his moldy hammock. “So, come to hang with Launchpad, eh? Wanna watch Darkwing Duck with me? It’s a good episode! DW has to team up with the Justice Ducks to stop the Fearsome Five and save St. Canard!”

Lena doesn’t know what half those words mean. “Actually, I was kind of looking for Webby…?”

Launchpad visibly deflates, and something inside Lena flinches. “Last I checked she and the boys were doing their schoolwork. That’s why I’m here, you see. Mrs. Beakley doesn’t like it when I accompany them. Says I’m a distraction. But hey, I get to watch Darkwing Duck, the greatest TV show of all time!” He brightens, his blinding smile returning full force.

Lena doesn’t know if it’s the prospect of being an outsider or being kicked out all the time, but before she realizes what she’s doing she’s sitting on the hammock too. “I think I’d be a distraction too.”

Launchpad’s smile is even brighter than before as he rambles on and on about the show, thinking faster than he can talk and stumbling over his words more than once. Most of it is unfamiliar, going in one ear and out the other, but seeing Launchpad so happy somehow makes Lena happy too.

Lena never knew the pilot particularly well, but while he was always kind to her before, after that he always had a bright smile reserved specifically for her.

Seeing that smile, and remembering it now, gave her the same warm feeling she got all those months ago when she first summoned it.

Sometimes Lena forgets just how big McDuck Manor is. She sticks to the first few floors, and anywhere those four kids go they fill up the empty space with laughter and love. She usually sticks close by their sides. But she turns an unfamiliar corner on her way to the bathroom and suddenly she’s on her own in a hall with a ceiling dauntingly high above her head. It stretches down past where she can see, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

She turns in a tight circle around herself, but the way she came seems to have disappeared, lost in an endless array of symmetrical doors and hallways.

Panic sets in. Her breathing becomes short and fast, and the halls crumble around her as she slumps to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest.

For a good few moments, it seems like she’s going to die there. She could wander the halls forever and never find her way out. Magica doesn’t make herself known, not even to lecture her or to guide her out so she can carry out her master plan.

Then, suddenly, the world is sharply focused again. A voice, unfamiliar and stiff but not at all brusque, speaks up behind her.

“Miss Lena?”

Lena gasps and does a not-so-graceful twirl as she shoots to her feet. She quickly sets her flailing, shaking hands on her hips and for the first time gets a clear picture of her companion.

He’s not normal. She knows that right off the bat. He’s transparent and emits a faint, deep blue glow. He could be a ghost, but as Magica de Spell’s niece/shadow, she knows that’s not by a long shot the only possibility.

She’s staring, her mind whirring like a rushing stream. This supernatural dog, that she’s never seen before, here in Scrooge McDuck’s ultra-protected mansion, knows her name. He found her when she was lost in his endless halls.

Maybe he knows Aunt Magica. Panic shoots through her. Her back is as straight as a board.

The dog must sense her concern, as he bows slightly to her. “I am Duckworth, Mr. McDuck’s butler. And yes, before you ask, I am aware that I am a ghost, thank you very much.”

Lena relaxes, only ever so slightly. At least she knows he’s not with Magica.

...but if she hasn’t seen him all this time, but he knows her, what if he’s seen her secret conversations with Magica?!

All her worst fears, everything Magica has warned her about, come rushing up to the surface and she nearly bursts into tears again.

A ghostly hand hovers over her shoulder. “Miss Lena, I believe you were looking for the bathroom?” His voice is gentle but composed. If he had not been watching her the entire time, Lena would have thought that he hadn’t noticed her panic.

Sniffling and wiping her eyes, Lena nods. “Yeah, thanks.”

Wordlessly, the ghost butler opens a door completely symmetrical to the rest, revealing the familiar hallway from which she had come. Lena nearly laughs, she’s so relieved.

“I suspect you do not need me to show you the rest of the way?” Duckworth confirms, startling her out of her giddy exhaustion.

Lena nods, managing a smile at the dog as she passes. He simply nods his head and closes the door silently behind her. Then he’s gone, disappearing into the vast unknown that is Scrooge McDuck’s mansion.

She sees Duckworth a few days later, as he brings some tea sandwiches while Mrs. Beakley is cleaning upstairs. Webby introduces Lena to him, and he simply nods politely. They meet a few times after that, and neither ever brings up their tear-filled first interaction.

Now that she has all of eternity to do nothing but reflect on her short, angsty life, Lena wishes she connected with Duckworth more. He was always kind to her, and his steady, professional nature made her feel a bit more grounded. Even though she is a shadow and he is a ghost.

If she goes back, she has to change that. She will.

If they accept her, that is. They know she’s Magica’s shadow now. They know she betrayed them.

Lena pushes her fears aside and wraps her arms around herself in a tight hug, a small smile tight on her beak. She pulls her hands back to toy with the echo of a fraying friendship bracelet around her wrist.

Soon, for better or for worse, her fears will come to pass. She just has to keep biding her time and growing her strength.

For now, all she can do is wait.

And remember.

“Lena.” The sharp British voice, accompanied by a firm hand on her shoulder, stopped Lena in her tracks.

She glanced up to see Mrs. Beakley looking down at her, gaze unreadable. In her hand was a coat, deep magenta and long enough to reach Lena’s ankles.

“It’s getting cold,” the housekeeper begins, holding the coat out to Lena. “I will not stand for a child under my care playing outside without a coat.”

Stunned, Lena reaches for the coat and pulls it around her. It’s warm and mysteriously fits like a glove. It’s a bit long, but she has a sneaking suspicion Mrs. Beakley bought it that way on purpose.

She wants to refuse it. She knows Aunt Magica will tear it up once she gets home, unless she can stash it under her bed in time. Besides, she doesn’t want to accept a gift from Mrs. Beakley. She has given Lena kindness, which will be paid back in inevitable betrayal.

But Mrs. Beakley is holding the coat out to her expectantly, and when Lena looks her in the eyes she just can’t refuse. There’s something in her face, somewhere between stern and motherly, that makes Lena’s arm shoot out without prompting and her fingers wrap around the coat.

As soon as she touches it she melts. Because oh, it’s soft. Softer than her trusty sweater just snuck out of the laundromat. Softer than Webby’s feathers and her recently washed blankets Lena loves to “borrow”. Softer than the couch in front of the TV that the boys can sometimes coax her to.

She can hear Magica’s voice in the back of her head, whispering it’s a trap and don’t trust her and she’ll regret this when she finds out what you really are. The whispers turn her blood to ice, and she clutches the fluffy coat tighter. She’s never needed it more.

As she tugs it to her chest and hesitantly tucks it around herself Mrs. Beakley’s beak curves upwards, ever so slightly.

Lena misses that coat. She hid it in one of the closets, behind a stiff coat of Scrooge’s hidden away in the back, so Magica couldn’t tear it up later. That night, lying alone in her cold bedroom, she tried not to imagine the warmth of the coat, lost to the closets of a manor just out of reach.

She’s neither not nor cold now, but the comfort of that coat would be nice. It wouldn’t hurt.

Except it does now, because she doesn’t know if it’s been found or if one of the only things she’s ever owned is still hanging quietly in that closet. Waiting for its owner to grab it off the hook and run outside laughing, breath making frosty puffs in the cold air.

The uneasiness came first when Lena rung the bell, only to be met with static. Mrs. Beakley was usually extremely prompt at answering, even when she had other things on her mind. The lunar eclipse was in less than a week and Magica was growing impatient. She was taking over Lena’s body more often than not.

She let Lena go to McDuck Manor on her own after a perilous speech about not wanting to scare Scroogey off so soon. Lena grit her teeth, remembering it, and strides up to the mansion’s gate.

It swings open, unprompted.

Lena’s stomach twists, but she continues to the door. It swings open as well, at the hand of the ghost butler Lena has rarely spoken to. She winces at the memory of the last time they were alone together, but at the moment she’s more worried about Mrs. Beakley.

Frowning slightly, she gives him a small wave and opens her mouth to ask about Webby and Mrs. Beakley. He points her in the direction of the pool before she could speak.

She wishes she could tell him something, anything, but with Magica breathing down her neck she has no chance. She thanks him in a voice barely above a whisper to hide the way it’s trembling and hurries outside.

There is no one on the deck, so Lena enters the houseboat. She doesn’t bother to knock, but immediately regrets it when the only duck inside is the triplets’ uncle she barely talks to.

He’s lying awkwardly on the couch with some ice on his hand, reading a fishing magazine upside down. He glances up, surprised, but manages a smile. “Hey, kiddo. What brings you here?”

Lena toys with the end of her shirt. She could still barely understand him, and so tries to avoid him at all costs. That made any inevitable encounters awkward. “Looking for Webby. Where is she?”

“On an adventure,” Donald sighs, a resigned expression settling on his face. “Hopefully not dead.”

Fear flares in Lena’s stomach. She quickly schools her face into a neutral expression. The less Aunt Magica knows she cares about her best friend, the better. But she must not have cleared her face fast enough because Donald’s wary smile softens and he scoots over as much as he could, patting the seat beside him with his fishing magazine. “Ah, I’m sure they’re fine. Scrooge does his best, and the kids are accomplished adventurers themselves. ‘Sides, Mrs. B is with them this time, so they’ll be even safer. Webby most of all.”

Lena numbly takes the seat beside him, all too aware of how easily Magica could take over her and bring harm to this already injured nephew of Scrooge. “That’s where she is?”

Donald nods. “I think this is her first adventure with the kids. Webby is ecstatic. Although all of the kids seemed a bit distracted this morning.”

Lena nods back, only half listening. She leans back against the couch. “Do you know when they’ll be back?”

“Soon,” Donald replies instantly. “Around the eclipse.”

Lena’s heart stops in her throat. At first, pure panic at the mention of the eclipse. She fears she’s been outed. Then, relief, because her secret is safe. Then, panic again because they would be home, in Magica’s reach, during the eclipse. And she knew it.

What little hope of somehow stopping her aunt she had flies out the window. Hot tears prick at her eyes and she gasps sharply, trying to hold them in.

Instantly Donald’s fishing magazine is on the floor and his spare hand is gently rubbing circles on her back. “Try to breathe,” he instructs gently. “Focus on my voice. In, out. In, out. In, out. You’re doing great.”

Lena matches his breathing pattern, focusing on nothing else. Her breathing slowly returns to normal and she slumps against the back of the couch, all the energy flooding out of her.

Donald smiles comfortingly at her. “You’re okay now, Lena.”

She knows she isn’t, that she never could be, but then realizes that he was right. She feels better. A lot of the fear is gone.

“Do you have panic attacks often?” he asks, light but serious enough that she knows not to dodge the question.

She nods slowly.

“When you have them, focus on five things you can see, five things you can touch, five things you can taste, five things you can smell, and five things you can hear. Keep counting until it goes away. Don’t focus on anything else. Try to breathe as deeply as you can,” he instructs.

Lena nods again.

Pulling out his phone, the uncle pulls up a couple of warmly colored apps. “There are some great apps that help with panic attacks. Most are free to download. I can text you a link if you’d like.”

Lena beams. “That would be nice.” She hands him her phone to type in her number, ignoring Magica screeching in the back of her head.

“I get panic attacks too,” Donald says, not looking up from the phone. Lena’s head shoots up in surprise. “So do Huey and Louie. Scrooge doesn’t anymore, but he used to.” He pauses his typing and glances at her, smiling warmly. “You can always come to one of us if you need help, you hear?”

Lena nods. She doesn’t know if she would, but it feels like a steady, comforting weight in a world that has turned upside down and been stomped to pieces.

She never took him up on his offer. She had many more panic attacks in the short span of days after that, but Magica was always there, always getting in her head and freezing her in place before she could escape. She nearly had one locked in the cage with Scrooge, but then he offered her a place in his family, and, unknowingly, a brief reprise from a world of fear until Magica banished her to her current living quarters.

She pulls out her phone. The time and dates are screwed, since there is no satellite connection. Figures There is no internet either. But she pulls up her text messages and found Donald’s. The list of apps is right there.

She wishes she could download them in the void.

Lena stares at the duck in front of her and tries not to think about Magica’s excited whispers in her head or how she’s been avoiding him at all cost. She shakes his hand, having no other option. His grip is firm, while hers must be like a limp noodle if it’s not shaking from how terrified she is.

If he notices, he doesn’t show it. His face is impassible, unreadable. That only makes it worse.

She wasn’t sure what else she was expecting. Definitely not huge smiles and warm hugs.

At least he’s not trying to kill her for being Magica’s demon spawn working inside his very home to take him down.

That thought sends shudders down her spine, and a little worry finds its way through the cracks of his neutral facade.

Lena swallows and forces herself to smile. “It’s nice to meet you, uhh, sir.”

He nods back ever so slightly, tipping his trademark top hat. “It’s nice to meet you too, lass.”

Webby breaks in, elbowing Lena hard in the side in her excitement, and it takes all she has to not wince. “Mr. McDuck is the richest duck in the world! He goes on super cool adventures all the time!!! He’s a hundred and fifty years old and he-“

“I’m sure the lass knows all that, Webby darling,” Scrooge breaks in, looking amused.

Webby grins, embarrassed. “Of course! Sorry Lena! I didn’t mean to doubt your intelligence, you’re super smart and all.”

Webby’s familiar banter, and the reminder of her best friend’s presence, gives Lena just enough courage. She puts a hand on her chin in an overexaggerated thinking position. “Oh, I dunno, never really heard of ya.” She shoves her hands deep in her pockets and grins at Webby, who giggles.

Scrooge’s smile is growing, and he raises an eyebrow. “Aye, is that so? Never seen the million billboards around town with my face and name plastered all over them?”

Lena’s unable to keep her grin from her beak as she shakes her head. “Nope, never.”

Scrooge chuckles at that, a full-on guffaw. He elbows Mrs. Beakley, who looks less than pleased at the gesture. “I like this one.”

Lena is floored by the gesture. Weeks of carefully avoiding Scrooge McDuck like her life depended on it (which it very much could). And she made him laugh! Their very first interaction and she made him, the famous old miser, the heartless villain of every one of Magica’s tales, laugh.

This is it. This is the last straw. She can’t help Magica kill him now.

She immediately pushes those thoughts away before Magica could notice.

It’s not like she has a choice, anyway.

Webby has taken hold of her hand, and she shakes it gently. “Hey Lena, you okay?”

Smiling stiffly, Lena nods. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Just zoned out, Webs.” She winked at her best friend. “It’s not every day you meet the richest duck in the world, after all.”

“I thought you didn’t know who I was,” Scrooge countered, raising an eyebrow.

Lena crosses her arms, smiling. “I believe Webby. She knows quite a bit about you, believe it or not.”

Scrooge laughs again, and something warm and steady settles in Lena’s gut.

She wraps an arm around Webby’s shoulder and forces herself to laugh along.

And, to her surprise, it comes naturally.

—

If there’s anything Lena wants to finish, it’s her conversation with Scrooge.

She wants more than anything to be a part of his family, to be able to interact with him and make him laugh when her inevitable betrayal isn’t making her awkward.

She wants to know if he’ll keep his promise when he’s not under the threat of death.

She hopes with all her heart she will. Unlike his fellow capitalist billionaires making their fortunes off of lies and the backs of others, Scrooge McDuck is an honest man, a man of his word. That’s something she’s always admired about him, even years before she knew him. If a dirt poor duckling from Scotland can immigrate to a completely new country and become the richest duck in the world without cheating others out of a single cent, then maybe the little shadow, created only for petty revenge, can join the family she sabotaged.

Lena is terrified of confronting him, but the curiosity eats her up every day.

As she bides her time, feeling herself grow stronger and stronger, she’s even more anxious and terrified for the moment when she can finally re-enter the living world. The moment when she’ll have to face her newfound family for the first time with them knowing the truth.

Lena longs for it and desperately pushes it away at the same time.

—

Lena has come close to telling Webby her secret more than once.

Right from the beginning, Webby is her best friend. Webby has been nothing but kind to her, and Lena has repaid her in half-truths and backstabbing.

She thinks about this a month before the eclipse, as Magica’s hazy plans take form and when Webby is coincidentally late to their meeting. One good thing about the eclipse nearing is that Magica is too busy perfecting her plans down to the last detail to pay much attention to Lena.

She wallows in her predicament as she waits, half-finished milkshake in hand and watching the door.

Maybe Webby finally realized who she is and is ditching her. Maybe Webby got tired of her reluctant, wary ways, or sensed something is off. Maybe their friendship is over.

Lena is overjoyed when the doors swing open and Webby comes running right up to her table, panting slightly. She tries, and fails, to hide how happy she is at the sight of her painfully loyal best friend.

“Sorry Lena,” Webby pants. “Huey had a Junior Woodchuck meeting that ran late.”

Lena waves her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing.”

It’s obviously not nothing, but there’s no way she can tell Webby that.

Webby studies her for a minute, not quite accepting her answer, before nodding cheerfully. “Okay! You hungry?”

“As a horse!” Lena replies instantly, pulling out her wallet. It’s not a lie. Magica has been a bit too busy for food these days.

“I think I’m going to get a hamburger,” Webby says decisively. Lena laughs. “You always do.”

“And you always only get fries,” Webby counters. “I dare you to get something different!”

Lena grins. “Is that a triple dog dare?”

“You bet!” Lena’s not totally sure Webby knows what a triple dog dare is. Dewey might have taught her at some point.

Dare or not, it’s a nice excuse to get some actual food.

She leans back to scour the menu, pretending she hasn’t already read it multiple times trying to get her mind off all the ways Webby could have ditched her while she was waiting.

What kind of friend are you?! Webby would never assume you ditched her.

No good friend would go into a friendship intending to stab their friend and family in the back.

Lena flinches hard, and Webby’s arm is around her waist (since she can’t reach her shoulders, Lena now realizes) in an instant. “Lena? Is everything okay?”

Lena nods shakily. “Everything’s fine, Webs. I just had… a bad dream last night, and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Oh?” Webby turns to face her, still on her tiptoes, eyebrows raised. It’s an open invitation that Lena can’t refuse. Once she started talking the words poured out too fast to stop them if she wanted to.

“I was… at your place. Having movie night with you and the boys. We were having a great time, but then the sun turned black and the sky turned blood red. The city started falling apart. I think someone was attacking it. The mansion started falling apart, so we all ran outside. The city was in blazes and ruins. Smoke was everywhere, and everyone was gone. People were screaming and crying for help in the rubble, so the boys ran off to help before we could stop them. Their voices became part of the chorus of distress. Then it was just you and me, and this… this person landed in front of us. I never got a clear look at he- them, but they were huge. They threatened us, but I don’t remember what they said, just that it was really upsetting. It made you furious, so you attacked them and the two of you rolled down the hill in battle. I don’t know why I didn’t help you, but I just kept waiting for you to return. Neither of you did. Slowly all the screaming people just stopped screaming and I was left alone on the hill with the smoldering city.” Lena pressed her face into her hands, hot tears streaming into her hands.

“Hey.” Webby gently lifts Lena’s face out of her hands, cupping her chin in her hands. She ignores the tears trickling off Lena’s face onto her hands. “It’s okay. That’s not going to happen. There are two hundred and twenty-three magical defenses on the Money Bin and the manor each. I counted.”

Lena chuckles softly through her tears. “Of course you did, Webs. I love that.”

Webby lifts a thumb and gently wipes away one of Lena’s tears. “Besides, we have Gizmoduck, all of Gyro’s crazy inventions, a family of seasoned adventurers, a former spy, and so much more. Besides, the citizens of Duckberg can fight. And also, Scrooge secretly keeps Ragnarok at bay every day, so they’d have to get through him first and that’s no easy feat. Don’t tell him I know, though!”

Lena blinks. “He does what now?”

“My point being,” Webby continues, gazing straight up at Lena with those huge, adoring, irresistible puppy dog eyes of hers. “Is that your dream has a very, very, very, very, very, very very, veeeeery-”

Lena grins. “All right Webs, I get it.”

“-Very small chance of happening,” Webby finishes. “Please don’t worry, you crazy angel. Everything will be okay.”

Lena smiles, unable to say anything. Webby is so sweet. This interaction has done wonders. But at the same time it’s done nothing, because her only shot at warning Webby has fallen on its face and been stomped into the dirt.

Oh, Webby, it will happen. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…

Lena sobs, tears streaming down her face, as she recalls her outing with Webby. She tried to warn her, she really did.

And Webby never believed her.

Every day she wonders and worries if Webby is okay. If she survived the Shadow War. If she didn’t have to spend time in the hospital from her fight with Magica, whom she knows from experience is horrifyingly powerful even in hand-to-hand combat.

If she still wants to be friends. If she still wants to be family.

Lena sniffles, and takes a long moment to dry her tears on her sleeve. They just keep coming. If the family really does hate her, she can’t leave with much of her dignity if she’s sobbing.

Time to find out if I have a family or not.

Heart in her chest, every hope and fear fresh in her mind, Lena closes her free hand tight around the ghost of her friendship bracelet and begins to chant, low and unsteady. Her voice wavers and cracks, and her tears start up again like a geyser. She can’t remember all of the words, so she subs in what she hopes are similar syllables.

She calls to the front of her mind every memory, every moment she spent with Webby and her family, all her time worrying and thinking about them. How much she loves them.

The bracelet begins to glow, blindingly blue, and Lena squeezes her eyes shut as tight as they can go.

She’s falling, gravity suddenly reclaiming her. But as soon as she realizes she’s in freefall, her knees hit carpet and she stumbles hard, falling on her stomach.

Onto ground.

Solid ground.

Real, solid ground, from the world of the living.

There are shouts and cries around her, and someone is clutching her tightly. Footsteps, loud from hurry, retreat and then come back. People are crowding around her, touching her, hugging her.

Lena forces her eyes open.

The first thing she sees is Huey’s red shirt, his neat stitching and three shiny, small buttons near the top. He’s bawling his eyes out as he shuffles through the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook, rambling about probabilities and spontaneous activity and quantum physics.

Dewey is next to him, eyes huge and bright, his smile wide enough to split his face. His hair is all ruffled up, more than usual, and his hands are tight around her neck in a hug.

Louie is on his other side, his phone in hand. He’s excited, talking fast to her, but she doesn’t register his words. Only his voice, high with excitement and cracking with emotion.

Launchpad is ruffling her hair with his too-big, too-rough hand, but she doesn’t mind because it’s Launchpad. He’s grinning at her with that special smile of his, and she grins back. He says something about catching her up on Darkwing Duck, even though it’s been over for years. But she doesn’t mind, because it means time with Launchpad, and that’s more than fine.

Duckworth hovers behind Dewey and Louie, not quite out of sight but not in the center of attention either. He has a small smile on his face, and he nods more than politely when their eyes meet. “Welcome home, Miss Lena.”

A hand lands on her shoulder, shaking, and Lena glances up to see Mrs. Beakley beaming down at her. There might be tiny tears in her eyes, or it might just be the reflection from the candlelit chandelier above. Her hand squeezes Lena’s shoulder in a way that says so much more than any words ever could, shaking but steady at the same time.

She doesn’t need to look back to know the hand rubbing her back is Donald’s. It’s comforting but firm in a way that’s trained and experienced. He stops rubbing for a moment to squeeze her tight in a hug. He whispers something in her ear, but his voice is even more garbled and thick than usual. She just leans closer, into the hug.

Only when he releases her and walks back around to face her, setting a hand on Huey’s shoulder and wrapping Dewey and Louie in his other, does she realize Scrooge has been one of the people hugging her from behind. He tips his hat to her, smiling. “I’m glad to see you made it, Lena. A promise is a promise. Welcome home, dear.”

Lena bites down hard on her lip to keep from crying, but it’s no use. She’s been sobbing hard this entire time.

One last person is still hugging her tight, and Lena doesn’t need to turn around to see who it is. She shifts her position so one of her arms is free, and reaches around to hug Webby back. Her best friend’s beak is buried in her side and she’s sobbing hard.

Lena finally finds her voice. It’s low and quiet, and sounds weird without the strange echo and emptiness of the shadow void. “Hey, Webs. It’s okay. I’m back.”

Webby only sobs harder. She unlaces one of her arms and offers her hand to Lena, who gratefully accepts it. The other hand never leaves her side. They hug each other tight, and the family closes in around them. Even Duckworth joins in the group hug.

All of Lena’s fears about acceptance and family melt away. She grins hard, tears still streaming down her face. But for once they’re tears of joy, not fear or pain. She’s happy, happier than when she first met Webby or when Scrooge offered her a place in his family. She’s finally free.

She finally has a family.

daaaaang y’all a fic giant sighting! 7.2k words! for comparison, my fics are usually 1k-1.5k words. i’m trying to work on making them longer but i never expected this lol

it’s a completely wild ride i’m sorry

i’m not a person to ask for validation but i thrive on it and this is something i put a lot of time into, so i would really like it if you leave comments/reblogs/likes. especially since tumblr doesn’t have a read count like ao3. it means a lot to me. i love writing, and i love writing long fics, but if i keep putting this writing that i put my heart and soul into all i do and get little to nothing back, it’s a bit disheartening.

i don’t want to end on that note, so love you all!!! <3 <3

40 notes · View notes

lululawrence · 6 years ago

Text

Annual Writing Self-Evaluation 2018

Hiiiiiii! So I was tagged by @sadaveniren, @hereforlou, and @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed who are SO VERY LOVELY! Thank you, darlings! I was wanting to do this anyway, and now I have double the excuse to do it. The two versions they had were slightly different, so I merged them. Hope no one minds. haha

Okay, so that said, as I’m sure most of you know I write more than I probably should, and because of that, this post got long very very very quickly. Ahem. So you’ll find the questions below the cut, thank you for even thinking of reading this!!

ALL FICS MUST HAVE POSTED ON AO3 IN 2018

1. Number of stories (including drabbles) posted to AO3: 25. oh! only 25! that’s great hahaha

2. Word count posted for the year: 313910. that’s 2k MORE than last year and my whole goal for this year was to write more quality rather than quantity fic. hmmmm. lollll

3. List of works published this year (in order of posting):

I warned you. I’m sorry in advance.

A Dream is a Soft Place to Land

We Made a Start

Tell Me That You've Got Me

I Don't Mean to Frustrate

How Much My Heart Depends

I Will Care For You

Hold Me Tight and Don't Let Go

Can We Talk for a Moment?

I Like Digging Holes

Back to How it Was

Not the Desperate Type

Just Enough (to Feel My Body Come Alive)

What Needs to be Done

I Knew From the First Time

Something Classic

The World Will Open Its Arms

How I Feel Inside

We've Come Too Far

I Just Wanna Give You Love

(That's Just) The Way I Am

This is a Rainbow War

Can I Have Your Attention, Please?

Great Minds (They Think Just the Same)

You're Here, Where You Should Be

Nowhere to Land (as of today! hurray!)

4. Fandoms I wrote for: One Direction, BBC Radio 1

5. Pairings: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Louis Tomlinson/Nick Grimshaw

6. Story with the most:

Kudos: I Just Wanna Give You Love (757...holy shit when did that happen?)

Bookmarks: I Just Wanna Give You Love (283)

Comments: I Just Wanna Give You Love (8783)

That was kinda boring. I was expecting more diversity, tbh hahaha I also had no idea that was like by far my most popular fic this year? Who knew.

9. Work I’m most proud of (and why):

Back to How it Was. It is my fic baby. Well, my second born fic baby. I spent two years brainstorming and starting the fic and restarting it and reworking it before I finally wrote it from scratch for NaNoWriMo last year and posted it with Big Bang this year. I didn’t think I could win NaNo or that I had the guts to do Big Bang even though I’d always wanted to do it, and I finally did it for this baby, because I knew it was worth it and it so was. It’s my longest fic, what I feel is my best written fic, and the fic I THOUGHT was going to be by far my most popular one, but obvs famous/non famous soulmates won hahaha It even was enough to give me the motivation to actually write a sequel (Nowhere to Land) and just. I love this fic so so so much. Defo what I’m most proud of this year.

10. Work I’m least proud of (and why):

You know, my biggest focus this year was not so much writing less, but writing with more purpose. Making my writing more quality (I wrote over 40 fics last year and it felt like TOO MUCH even if I learned a lot), and I think that even though I still posted a LOT of fics this year and my word count was actually more than last year, I think it was better quality. I think my writing overall was better and because of that, I’m proud of all of my fics. It’s the first year I’ve really been able to say that, but I don’t think I could choose a least proud fic. I love all of them too much.

11. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

Oh shit. Uhhhh...here! @sadaveniren reminded me I was damn proud of banter I wrote this year, and since I can’t share a Tomlinshaw snippet yet, enjoy this tidbit from I Like Digging Holes.

“Lads,” Liam called. “We’re back in five.”

Zayn turned back to the computer and finished what he was doing as Harry took his mic off mute.

“That was the new tune by our good friend, Niall Horan. Isn’t On the Loose a jam, Zayn?”

“It is. It is. But I think you’re just trying to distract me from what we were discussing during that song, Harry.”

Harry smirked and Zayn’s brows raised higher. His eyes were sparkling and Harry knew this next part was going to be fun. “Maybe I was, maybe I wasn’t. Would you like to share with the listeners what we were discussing?”

“Yes, well, our very own Harry Styles was sitting here, proper chair dancing and singing along to Niall’s latest single, all while peeling an orange.”

“It is a delicious orange, in case you were wondering,” Harry said, making sure everyone could tell by the way he was speaking that he had a segment in his mouth as he spoke.

“You’re disgusting,” Zayn said. He couldn’t keep the corner of his mouth from raising a little, though, so Harry knew he was mostly joking. “I swear I’m going to take your phone and start posting how you eat to your precious Insta story myself. Anyway, would you like to tell everyone where exactly you came upon this orange?”

“Of course, Zaynie. I came upon this lovely orange in the lift.”

Zayn was hardly containing his laughter now, but he did his best to remain serious. Harry knew the comments on their video this morning would be amusing to say the least. They always loved it when Harry and Zayn bickered a bit.

“Harryyyyy,” Zayn drew out, finally succumbing to his giggles. “Who finds an orange in the lift and thinks, ‘Wow, that looks delicious. I think I’ll take it?’”

“Well, obviously I do,” Harry said, also giggling. “It’s not like it was just rolling around! It was in a box!”

“A box almost makes it worse,” Zayn said, getting more and more animated as their conversation continued. “Someone may be looking for their missing orange now!”

“I don’t think so,” Harry said. “Besides. If they’re smart they’re listening to our show now and have found where their orange has gone.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

Harry hummed as he sent a cheeky wink Zayn’s way and continued eating his orange.

12. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

Oh gosh. There have been several that made me cry this year, they were so lovely. Some I save in my emails for when I have a bad day. I don’t know that I have any one single favorite, but I did have one the other day that told me they appreciated how I end my fics with them being resolved but still somewhat open ended therefore allowing the reader to choose the future of the characters. That meant a lot to me because there’s a lot of fics I write where the only comments are people begging for more (which is totally fine! I know I write short fics that often are just a snippet in time for those characters and leaves people wanting more hehe), but often the point of those fics is to leave so much in the air. I like the possibilities swirling and people wondering and coming up with their own ideas, and this particular commenter said they appreciated that. that meant the world to me! I was glad they liked that since it’s something I feel strong about but that often frustrates people hehe

13. A time when writing was really, really hard:

oh gosh okay listen. writing this year was my safe haven and most of the fics flowed from me in a most magical way. i think it was because i was writing fics i wanted to write? if that makes sense? but there were three fics that were REALLY hard for me. i learned a lot from all three, but the hardest i think was my mirrors fic, Just Enough (to Feel My Body Come Alive). I had an incredibly specific vision and feel for this fic and I felt like I fell so so so short from what I was trying to do. Every word was a struggle because I wanted to be sure it was right, and in the end I just didn’t have the time to really wrangle with the words how I wanted to. I got the fic done by the deadline and I was proud of what I wrote, but I just. I really truly wrestled with those words. I hope the emotion present in the fic, the settings created, and the growth of the characters as well as the narrative style I presented in the mixed POVs were effective for the readers! I put a lot of myself into that fic emotionally.

14. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

I think the Grimmy in Can I Have Your Attention, Please? surprised me. I wanted him to be very very true to the Grimmy we get on the radio and his personality shown there, and I think I got it, but it came much easier than I really thought it would. He was so endearing to me and silly and honestly a bit of a disaster and every time I finished writing him, I would go and yell in one of my chats because I just was amazed and how alive he came to be on the page. I hope others felt that way if they read it too. I really loved writing him because of how much he surprised me every time I got to write him.

15. How did you grow as a writer this year:

Well. If you’d asked me this a week ago I would have told you in confidence. I became incredibly confident in my ability to write a fairly decent fic on pretty much anything. I feel like I can twist pretty much any prompt (within a few minor constraints) and do it well. But then this past week happened and I’m not sure confidence is where I grew. hahahaha I still am incredibly unsure of myself and scared when I post things.

One way I do definitely think I grew though is I tried different writing styles and structures. Last year I explored with tropes a lot, and I still did that this year, but I found ways to kind of make them different from what I’d done before. I really liked that.

16. How do you hope to grow next year:

Well. Last year I wanted to write more in general. This year I wanted to write more quality fics. Next year I think I want to just focus more on writing when I’m inspired. I want to try to cut down on deadlines a bit and focus more on fics that I want to write when I want to write them. I got a taste for that a little bit this year and I have to say I’m kind of addicted and would like to see that trend continue. So maybe just...ease up on writing a little bit, allow myself to read more again, and write what inspires me.

17. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

Oh gosh uhmmmmm. Well honestly Grimmy influenced me a lot this year. Grimmy and Greg and Scott and Chris all from Radio 1 found their ways into a lot of my fics this year as characters themselves or finding bits of themselves represented in our boys within the fics. Listening to them all more this year helped me really up my banter game so I was able to write awesome bits like the snippet I shared above I think. But I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the fic community here. I don’t even know that I can name everyone, but I was defo supported by some incredible people including @wait4ever, @londonfoginacup, @becomeawendybird, @briannamarguerite, @catfishau, @suddenclarityharry, and so so so many more. I’m so sorry I’m not naming all of you, because seriously without any of the people who have been so kind to me I just. Writing is hard and scary and the next question is gonna be where I show part of why it’s so hard and scary, but it’s because of the kindness I have found in this fandom that I feel like I can keep going.

18. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

*nervous laughter* yeah. I mean, there’s always parts of real life in fic, isn’t there? I find myself infusing bits of myself into my characters every time I write, but the fic that scared me the most and had me most worried it was total trash before posting it was actually Nowhere to Land. I couldn’t figure out why until today when I realized it was because so so so many of Harry’s worries and feelings about writing the article and his growth in the fic is very much everything I struggle with personally. I didn’t remember putting so much of myself into him, so I felt like posting him was like putting myself as a person out there for people to devour and either love or hate. Be kind or cruel about. And that’s fucking scary. So...yeah. Yeah real life always shows up, but Harry in that fic was kinda really me and that’s. A lot.

19. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

Keep going. You can do so much more than you think you can. Build a support crew. It doesn’t matter if they’re other writers or cheerleaders or betas or whatever, but build a community specifically for your fic. They’ll help keep you going when you’re feeling stuck and unsure and they’ll save you. Find your people. And always use a beta, no matter how scary that seems. They’ll save you. haha

20. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

Oh gosh yes. I mean, I’m posting my first hybrid fic and a hannah montana au and a sweet home alabama au and my very first futuristic fantasy epic adventure type au and all sorts of really fun things next year so i’m super crazy excited for the fic projects i’ve got going on just in the first several months of 2019. It’s gonna be an amazing year!

21. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read.

i love so many of you and i have no idea who has done this SO i’m just gonna go and tag some people, including those mentioned above!, and hope for the best! @greenfeelings, @mediawhorefics, @2tiedships2, @suddenclarityharry, @suspendrs, @shyshyserious, @marastarfar, @indiaalphawhiskey and any writer reading this who wants to do it!!!

#mine #writing stuff #my fics #my fic rec #fic stuff #about me #this was wonderful #i am sorry in advance it is so long #if you made it to the end you'er a hero

19 notes · View notes

jujywrites · 5 years ago

Text

WIP Challenge

I got tagged by @kikithedeceiver to do this!

Challenge: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous.

Here’s the thing. I don’t have many separate WIP files; most of them are in one huge doc. and most of the separate wip files are... pretty dead? but ok whatevs. under a read more since it’s long...... and my ego won’t let me skip snippets hjkhkhk thanks for the idea Kiki

From my main miscellaneous folder:

50 Grades of Steele. 1 and a half chaps of a role-flipped 50 Shades of Grey rewrite (i haven’t read the books so I extra don’t care about the characters lol). why do i still have it i’ve lost interest.... *side eyes her entire wip ecosystem* ...Then I see my interview subject, seated at her desk.

"Mr. Grey. I'm pleased to meet you."

And I stop breathing. [end CH1]

[open CH2) I forgot to mention something: I exaggerate occasionally. But I'm not now. I literally stop breathing for a few seconds. A thousand thoughts are racing through my mind, which doesn't help my chest stop seizing, but the main problem here is that Anastasia Steele is quite possibly the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

Fanfic idea masterlist. my most active file and where I keep most of my WIPS, unless they get too “large”. Organized by fandom. lotta stuff i keep passing by & may as well be dead but don’t wanna delete. here’s a zero-draft snippet of probably the next chapter of my G-rated yukyoru fic collection

He grabbed a pillow and placed it to his chest, grabbed her arm, and yanked her to him, praying his idea would work.

Seconds passed and he didn't transform. He put his arms around her gingerly. Should he try to immobilize her or would that make it worse?

She made the decision for him. "Mom," she sobbed, clutching him with an iron grip. "N-Need to help...!"

His stomach dropped to his shoes.

Thudding footsteps announced Yuki's arrival. "What's wrong?! Honda-san--"

He didn't say "What did you do?" The thought raced by and Kyo said, "Grab a pillow and help me!"

As Yuki positioned the pillow and himself without having to ask, Kyo said, "She won't wake up. I don't know what to do!"

"Night terror," Yuki said tightly. He was too close but it almost didn't matter. "Not much you can do besides wait."

MayxWard BDSM fic agents of SHIELD. mix of notes and actual writing. kind of a half AU. Melinda climbed into the driver's side and buckled in, then started up the car. "If you've not ridden on the left before you might have motion sickness. It's normal. Just close your eyes until—" She paused as she looked at him; his hands shook so much he couldn't manage the seatbelt. "Here, let me."

"Thanks," he muttered with a sigh, looking rueful.

Modern AU Zelink. What it says on the tin~ Teenage-ish Zelink, with a mash of supporting characters from other games. another mix of notes and fic. Link wasn't sleeping tonight. Tonight was the night he'd been planning for and awaiting for weeks. He was going on a quest: the quest to meet Princess Zelda.

She wasn't really a princess, of course. That was just her nickname. Zelda Nohansen was Hyrule's sweetheart, the most sought-after young actress in the movie business. And Link had fallen in love with her the first time he'd seen her, two years ago in a tiny theater in Kakariko.

PMMMfic homumado. Madoka Magica. AU, been around since about an hour after I finished the series (5 years yikes, still gotta watch Rebellion). Homura's time power still somewhat involved, but Mami's an adult, everyone's at a boarding school (I think?) where ~things aren't as they first seem~ and Madoka has mysterious powers and night terrors. just notes at the moment.

SoubixHitomi. Loveless. 3 unfinished/dead first-person Shinonome-senseixSoubi snippets, all of ‘em spicy.

yvy abo. Yuri On Ice. Yuri (Katsuki!!)/Victor/Yuko(!!?!), my attempt at. well. omegaverse(!!!!!!!). orignally started as part of a “bad YOI fic” bigbang and now I’m taking it seriously dgdgfg. Alpha Yuko. “Please, please stop,” she whispered, like saying it aloud would make any difference. But the pressure in her head kept building. Her limbs had begun to itch restlessly.

And Victor wouldn’t let go of her hand.

With the last scrap of her control, she straddled him quickly and kissed him awake.

Even in half-sleep he arched to meet her, and when he opened his eyes sapphire blue had already turned stormy with lust.

yvy canonfuturefic. Yuko-focused following of canon, or: how canon can I keep YOI while still rareship OT3ing it. She and Yuri fall in and out of love, in between falling for Victor. Victuri is still my life I swear

“You have got to watch this,” she tells Yuri. She watches Yuri’s face instead of the video, having seen it at least forty times by now.

Yuri’s eyes transform into beacons of awe, and Yuko swallows around her rapid heartbeat, breaths coming too short. She sees everything she’s feeling and more on his face. She remembers that she loves him, that he’s real and here and more important than the beautiful boy on her phone who’s trying to pull her under to a scary new world.

ZnT ot3 bdsm AU. Zankyou no Terror, 9/12/Lisa. mix of notes and fic, not just PWP. in heavy need of editing bc a lot was inspired by a non-spicy book.

“But it’s not just me. It’s everyone. You need everyone because you have no idea how to need yourself. Or even how to be yourself.”

“You’re wrong.” The force and volume of her voice shocked her and pushed her onward. “You and Touji. I don’t need anyone except you and Touji! Because you both taught me how to be myself-- no, how to find that on my own. I know exactly who I am, and that me isn’t complete without both of you!” She could feel the tears streaming down her face, yet somehow her voice didn’t waver. She felt so full of conviction she could burst into flames. “Don’t you understand, Arata? We’re all meant to be together.”

From my SnK folder:

Cave of the Crystal Maiden (working title). Aruani. Modern AU. MMORPG shenanigans with a dollop of magical realism/supernatural. Just notes. @portraitofa-girl suggested “meeting online” and it’s been there literally for years oh lord im sorry. no fic yet, just notes.

Falling Anthem (working title) Modern AU Levihan, art student Hange and young professor Levi. just notes. fic one in a planned series. also has been years ;_;

Raindrops and Soft Steps. Jearmin. unsurprisingly, modern AU. One morning, when Jean looks out of his bedroom window, he sees a boy dancing across the street. In the street, to be exact. There wouldn't be anything unusual about that, Jean supposes, except it's raining cats and dogs outside.

In my IAMXfic folder (fff i almost skipped this):

2ndPOVCalberto (DO NOT CORRUPT WITH HET) ChrisxAlberto? not much to say?? yes i know they’re real people??? which applies to everything after this oh my god *crawls under desk* Of course she knows; she is annoyingly perceptive when it comes to romance. The only thing preventing you from asking her (like a fucking lovestruck teenager) if Alberto likes you back is emptying that beer bottle. By then the only thing on your mind is ordering another.

CalbertImmi. i can’t even keep my poly shit outta RPF ahaha omhg Imogen has a conversation with her lover's lover. (AlbertImmi, sequel to...) Imogen finds herself in an unenviable position. (emerging CalbertImmi)

Alternate summaries (CC POV, first fic?): Chris loves two people. He doesn't want to choose. Chris has fallen in love a few times in his life. But he's never fallen for two people at once. (Chris also isn't good at choosing.)

ChrisxJ. several self-insert fics bc CC is just that powerful, apparently. haven’t looked at the file in a long time,,,,,

He started calling people to the stage with him, and one by one, my row emptied.

"Come on, yeah, come on," he was saying, waving his hand in an inviting gesture and grinning like a little kid. "Hey, you want to?" I did a double take.

"Me?" I mouthed, pointing at myself just to be sure. He nodded, smiling wider.

So it was that I walked unsteadily down the ramp and waited in line, feeling like I didn’t belong there. Soon I was next in line. What would I say? What would I do? I was sure if I opened my mouth I’d either burst into tears or faint.

Genderswapped IAMX sci-fi. The sci-fi was inspired by a word prompt, genderswapping by my own brain. (play spot the Immi lmao) Across the aisle, Sam rolled his eyes. “Leave Chris alone; she’s nervous.”

“And put on your own seatbelt, Johann,” shouted Jess, two seats back and in Sam’s aisle.

Patrick turned to look at Chris. “Subspace travel is a bitch,” he said simply, and turned back to his book.

“Oh, I feel much less nervous now,” Chris said with a sardonic grin. “How do you know that, anyway?”

"I'm not exactly what I seem to be." He didn’t look up.

Chriimmi (While I Was Gone inspired). Chris/Imogen, inspired by scenes from Sue Miller’s While I Was Gone.

"You really ought not to do that, you know," he said softly.

"Do what?"

"Sneak up on me."

My eyes slid from his face. "I didn't mean to. It just... happened."

"Mm." I glanced back at him; he wore a lopsided smile. "Not that I minded." The tension was so strong the air nearly vibrated with it, yet I held my tongue, terrified that I was the only one feeling it. He took a breath, deep, nearly rising on his toes. "No. I didn't mind at all." He took my hand, circled his thumb over the back. My breath caught as I felt it, as I watched him looking down at our hands.

Chriimmi bathtub dream. dream inspired Chris/Immi smut.

Chriimmi twitter. twitfic plus some, inspired from an actual tweet iamx made that i’m still not over.

@ imogenheap Come sing your lovely lyrics with us in London. @ IAMX misses you. CCx

ChrisxImmi main. grab bag of Chriimmi I was too lazy to put into separate docs.

“What do you think?” She grinned, twirling.

He cleared his throat. “Ah, I-Imogen, what are you wearing?”

“Well, I didn’t want to clash with your theme… Janine helped me. Does it work?”

Scandalously short skirt, midriff-baring top, knee-high boots.

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you? You’re trying to fucking kill me.”

Her grin only widened, even though a blush had started.

Fic edit chriimmi ver. yeah. editing someone else’s original fic to be chrimmi. either never posting or editing the frick out of. ~_~

He kissed her neck, whispered into it, “I love you.”

Imogen laughed. “Bollocks,” she said lazily.

”I do!” Chris protested. She looked down at him, nestled on her shoulder. He looked back, open, a little adoring. “I fell in love with you halfway through the show; I sang every note just for you.”

”Oh, please. You couldn’t have seen me.”

”No,” he said. “But I knew you were out there… I knew it had been you the minute I saw you backstage.”

Hospital Chriimmi. In which my guilty feeling over RPF are even worse bc of the inspiration ^_^U “Ms. Heap. What a pleasant surprise.” It’s surprising, how well she remembers his voice.

“Mr. Corner, what have you got yourself into?”

“Oh, just a bit of lingering insomnia. You know how it is.”

She takes a seat in the chair near his bed, crossing her legs. “Well, I’ve certainly had a sleepless night here and there, but I’ve never ended up in hospital from it. So no, I don’t suppose I do know.” Her tone is light, but her smile has begun to crack.

ImmixChris genderbend smut. the my secret friend video is... fertile material. have not actually written the smut yet.

...he saw us as characters– we put on those clothes and become separate from ourselves, removed. Whereas I simply felt like myself in men’s clothes, and instead of feeling what He felt for Her, I just kept right on feeling what I felt for Chris, amplified to a distracting level.

ReluctantdommeImmixSubCC. ...shrug emoji? notes and uh. visualizing.

Vampire Chriimmi. based on a dream. smutty. inspired by True Blood so wow that’s old.

From my Markipairings folder:

demon dream. markiplier self insert...... ughhhhhhhh o///o

"You can have me," I tell the creature. "But this one," I jerk my head toward Mark, "comes with me. He's mine, you see." A bold proclamation to make, but in the moment I know that the truth in those words surpasses everything I've ever said. He is mine, and saying the thought out loud fills me with courage. He squeezes my hand, two short and a long one so strong I think he might break it.

I know we’ll win.

DommeJujY. same as above, same as the next four. smutty.

Fight team AU. i forget where i got this one from. vaguely inspired by loveless i guess. The first clear thought I had was, He shouldn't have gone ahead of me. The second one was, I should have been able to protect him. But these came later, after the rage went away, after I hugged him and apologized, after I bandaged him…

Gaming meetcute. i win some contest or whatever to secretly tagteam w/ Mark. stuff happens and yeah......

The adrenaline surges through my veins as I take in the scene. Mark's avatar is flailing around, backed into a corner by some Eldritch Abomination and holy shit, the graphics in this game are amazing.

"This is not good, I can't move, I can't move…"

There's a voice in the back of my head screaming to shut the game down, to get that horrible thing off the screen. I ignore it.

Markinpanties. .......smut.

shifter-slight sci-fi AU. shrug emoji.

I looked up from the ground and saw I was heading straight for a brick wall. There was no time to slow down. I braced for impact...

It didn't happen. I opened my eyes and found myself in a café.

What.

Looking behind me, I saw a door. On impulse I walked over and opened it; the tree-lined street I could see through the glass was indeed there. No brick wall to smack my face into. Bewildered, I turned around and looked for a seat, choosing one near a window.

Gouldiplier~. master doc of ficbits of my cracky mccrackship, MarkiplierxEllie Goulding.

I check my phone during break time again. My selfie has been liked and retweeted thousands of times, and I shake my head in disbelief; I don't think that will ever stop surprising me, deep down. To make things even better, Mark's liked it! I'm in the middle of a happy jig when I realize there's a text from him and a squeak of joy slips from me.

hellooo gorgeous

looks like you're having fun. Hope the shoot's going great! <3

I quickly send a reply. it has been. Be glad when it's done tho. Missin u lots xo

Markipicbunnies. fanart of Mark for Gouldiplier insipration. photographer au.

"Ms. Goulding, I'm really not sure about this…"

"I produce pictures that are intimate because I'm an intimate being, Mark." Ellie looked at him directly, a hint of a smile shaping her lips. "Deep down, I think you are too. We just need to draw you out a bit."

showersexgouldiplier. WELP. IT’S SMUT.

Also I have folders for my 2010/11 nanowrimo novel that are kinda still WIPs but also kinda not

i’m gonna tag.... @kippielovesyou @kiridork and @mistergrass and anyone else who wants to do this can too :3

#JujYwrites #Mintyblather #i have too much stuuuffffff

1 note · View note