#i wanted to include a blurb as if its from ~the story~ (the story that doesn't really exist beyond a prologue and intro alas) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

torawro · 2 months ago

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WHEN BLADES CLASH, SO DO HEARTS. ( r. z. )

roronoa zoro & bounty hunter!reader.

cw ━━ ! minors, ageless and blank blogs DO NOT INTERACT. reader is portrayed as a black woman who is on the thicker / curvier side but you do not have to imagine it that way ! you are free to imagine the reader how you wish. canon divergent au (lowkey implied post-timeskip -> zoro is still a bounty hunter and never became a pirate). bc it's canon divergent, zoro will have both eyes (i know, i know). mentions and descriptions of alcohol consumption. canon-typical violence (i.e., mentions of weapons). light(ish) descriptions of blood & injuries. so much [sexual] tension between reader and zoro that it's palpable. contains sexually explicit content including smut (descriptions of it from an omniscient pov). gets kinda poetic at the end but y’all already knew that was coming. somewhat proofread.

word count ━━ ! 4.8k

notes ━━ ! my first published one piece fic on my blog . . . you'd think the first one would be about law since my current theme revolves around him but alas, this swordsman was prominent in my mind…i did lose motivation at some point but i still pushed through. this fic was originally something i drafted up to serve as the prologue for a much longer fic i'm writing (no hints, sorry < 3). and i thought writing this purely for contextual purposes would help with that longer story, but in the process it just turned into something else all on its own skskkskks so this is a modified version of that blurb. obvs this is also my first time officially writing for zoro so i’m a little nervous and to be honest, i’m not sure if i even like how this turned out…..regardless, i hope i portrayed him well enough (pls be gentle with me) >< also wanna dedicate this fic to naj, a mutual of mine who became a friend, but unfortunately deactivated her blog some time ago. she's been helping me with this drabble and the longer story i plan to write and i really appreciate her. reblogs + commentary are GREATLY appreciated ♡!!!

SHAKING OFF THE GRAVELLY SAND that haphazardly clung to the fabric of your pants, with little effort and practiced precision, you swiftly returned a large metal rod back into a black carrying bag before swinging the straps over your right shoulder. Rolling your arms to relieve some of the tension that resided in them proved to be a little painful, leading you to conclude that you most likely pulled a muscle somewhere when fighting the unknown men who had just attacked you.

Said men were now lying unconscious on the ground, hardly breathing and within an inch of their lives.

You didn’t kill them ━no, of course not ━ that would be a fruitless endeavor. Besides, you were well aware that your energy would be well-spent elsewhere, like searching for the next poor soul that had a bounty looming over their head. You were like a hunting dog, the scent of your next target set in front of you by the wanted posters littered around in each city or island you traveled to. Much like how the grim reaper awaited in the shadow of someone who stood inches away from the gates of death, you too would bide your time until the right moment to strike.

You took pride in the fact that the glint of your weapon would be the last thing that reflected in the eyes of your target.

The end result of your fight, if you could even call it that, was as chilling as the evening breeze that was brought forth by the wading waves of the ocean. You have made your mark on the flesh of these men, reopening some old wounds and creating new ones that would certainly scar forever. On levels of the skin and of the spirit.

With a heavy sigh, you adjusted your bag again as you walked towards the cluster of little lights nestled beyond the trees, within them existed this main island’s largest town. Your facial muscles didn’t so much as twitch as the pointed heel of your boots dug into the skin of your unconscious assailants— thinking nothing of their drowsy, muffled grunts of pain or the stark contrast between stepping over doughy bodies versus stepping on the hard earth.

The waxing crescent moon only slightly illuminated the dirt road as you made your way to the populated village, occasionally swatting away a fly or two. Soon enough, the mouth of the semi-dense woods opened up to reveal a wide gravel road. Across the opening was a bridge that stood over a flowing stream, and beyond that was the town. It was a cluster of buildings of varying heights lined up neatly street by street.

Lamps hung on every corner, street pole and ledge that would allow it, bathing all that rested under them in a pale yellow glow. It was quite pretty at night if you were being honest; and judging by its looks and atmosphere, you were sure that they’d have a nice inn around somewhere.

But first, a drink. And some food, you added as an afterthought, but mostly a drink. Your body could use a bit of external help to unwind after spending the last few days at sea.

It didn’t take you all that long to find out where the town’s bar was located, and you wasted no time ascending the steps that led to the double swinging doors. The clacking of your boots against the wooden floors upon entering the establishment were more or less drowned out by the chatter of the rugged-looking individuals who more or less made themselves at home.

And yet, despite the dozens of conversations that bounced off the walls of the tavern, the stares of everyone whose line of vision you crossed seemed to be louder. Much louder than any fit of raucous laughter or profane shout that surrounded you.

Your ears were even able to pluck out a few conversations. Hushed inquiries of familiarity, musings of what could possibly be in that bag dangling on your back, how the pants you wore emphasized the fat of your ass just right━ all things you let roll off your back and pretended not to hear.

If it weren’t for your more reserved nature, you would have slashed that the throat of the man who made that salacious comment the moment it left his dried lips.

You took a random seat at the bar, not really paying attention to who sat on either side of you. Placing the cowboy-style hat you wore next to you and your belongings at your feet, you patiently awaited for the bartender to make her way down to where you sat.

As you waited, you crossed your legs, one fleshy thigh over the other, absentmindedly twirling one of the bulky silver rings that encased your middle finger as you wondered what drink you were in the mood for today.

It wasn’t until several moments later, when your body and mind stilled enough, that you’d take notice.

Something felt . . . weird. ‘Off’ was probably a better word for the strange weight that suspended itself over your muscles. Whatever it was, whatever feeling or presence you sensed, it had your fingers twitching towards your bag laying idly against the table. And it only continued to linger in the air as the minutes dragged by.

The sound of the barkeep’s voice pulled you back into the plane of reality and away from the realm of your overactive mind. “What’ll ya be having tonight, honey?” She was an older woman, probably around the age of fifty but looked much younger, had deeply tanned skin, and peppered black and white hair that was pulled into a bun and rested at the base of her neck.

“Hmmm . . . whatever your best cocktail is, I’ll just have that.”

With a nod and an amused smile at you allowing her to have free reign, the barkeep turned around, set a shaker aside, and got to work preparing a drink of her choice to serve to you.

Then, something flashed in your peripheral vision.

It was so fleeting that you could have easily dismissed it as nothing had you not been on somewhat high alert already. It flickered in the reflection of the metal canisters that sat along the back wall of the bar. And whatever it was managed to startle you enough to jump start the pulse in your chest into a panicked overdrive so fierce that you heard it in your ears.

The frantic beating of your heart never showed on your face, however━ your expression remained neutral. It needed to be for a woman in your line of work. Perhaps especially because you were a woman in your line of work.

Without any warning or indication, the cold sensation of polished steel licked and nipped at the warmth residing in your neck. The sharpened end of a blade rested on the jugular of your throat, pressed firmly enough that if you moved forward even a little bit, a stain from your blood would surely blossom on the katana.

“You…” a deep male voice spoke, sounding rough and rugged all around its edges. The rest of the pub seemed to fall silent at the man’s utterance of that one word, rather than his blatant display of threatening you with a sword. “Why are you here?”

Your eyes were the only thing that moved. Slowly, with a frosty gleam underlining your gaze, your eyes landed on the sword’s master, his name immediately flashing in your mind. His reputation as a bounty hunter sent a chill down the spines of both marines and pirates alike. Residents all over the four seas feared his name, and his name alone could cause people to question if the threads of their lives would be severed by the piercing edge of his sword.

“Roronoa Zoro….” Your tone was leveled and held an air of disinterest as you talked. You spoke as if you were tasting the very syllables of his name, taking the time to roll each combination of letters against your tongue. They tumbled from your lips with a smoothness you weren’t entirely opposed to━ it was almost pleasant, if you were being honest with yourself.

A practice you didn't normally engage in.

Upon identifying the swordsman aloud, a short wave of hushed gasps from the customers surrounding you filled the air. With speeds that almost seemed abnormal, the long metal pole resting in your black bag suddenly ended up in your grasp, one end of it hovering several inches away from Roronoa's neck; such speeds even caught the mint-haired swordsman off guard. “Getting a drink, of course. Isn’t it obvious?”

Before he could even part his lips to reply, the piercing shing! of steely iron being brandished cut through the thick tension that settled in between you. A long and heavily curved blade abruptly emerged from the blackened rod in your right hand, and oh so conveniently arced around Roronoa's neck, momentarily silencing him.

The weapon you carried was a scythe, one with a retractable blade meant to disarm your opponent’s perception and therefore hinder their judgment. A scythe that was reminiscent of the tool Death used to carry out his grisly duties of executing souls and dragging them to hell.

In this position with the scythe’s blade practically wrapped around his throat, if need be you could swiftly behead him, or at least mutilate him; judging by how quickly he unsheathed his katana, his reflexes were pretty sharp. Still, the potential ease of killing Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro— in addition to the mild bewilderment reflecting in his eyes and the patrons’ silent gasps once they pieced together who you were— caused your lips to tick upwards, but your countenance remained otherwise stoic.

“And I’m assuming you’re here for the same reason. That, or you just couldn’t get enough of me during our last battle, and you tracked me down for more.”

Your previously dry tone had somehow morphed into one with an airy lilt, followed by a quiet chuckle that bubbled in your chest when you saw Roronoa's brows twitch and deepen with ire at your subtly teasing words.

You were referring to the last time you saw the swordsman on some obscure island that took root in the Grand Line; an island whose name currently escaped your memory. With you being a bounty hunter as well, your job was the only reason why your paths have crossed so often, and why you have come to know Roronoa on a more personal level such as this. Each time your gazes clashed, it would always result in an inevitable battle, which indirectly fanned the flames of an unspoken competition between the two of you.

If his current expression was anything to go by, this bar may very well be your next battlefield. “You lost that fight, remember?” He emphasized his point by digging the sharp edge of his blade a little further into your neck, the increased pressure causing your eyebrow to all but twitch, “Or did I hit you too hard last time we fought, and now you’re suffering from long-term memory loss?”

The edges of an insufferable smirk curled at Roronoa's lips— one that conveyed his confidence in his abilities and matched the glint in his eyes that began to grow hungry for a brawl. And now, the corners of your own lips broke into a small, amused smile— or perhaps it would be more accurately referred to as a sneer— and you responded by mirroring his earlier movements.

Pressing the sharp end of your scythe into the back of his neck, the blade was met with the resistance of the corded muscle residing there, and your gaze eagerly drank in the brief glimmer of pain that was but a ripple across his arrogant expression.

“I didn’t lose that fight. It was a draw, at best. Seems like you must not remember the excessive blood loss on your end. But anyhow, tell me something pirate hunter…” You uncrossed your legs to stand up and took one step closer towards Roronoa, careful not to let his sword further nick your skin even though it was already dangerously close to you, “How many bounties have you collected since we last saw each other? Three? Two? One?”

Your voice descended further into a teasing whisper, and Roronoa's indignation only grew with each number you hurled at him.

The samurai didn’t take your tone lightly, and perceived your step forward as something of a challenge, one that his nerves and heart and bones pleasantly vibrated to the sound of. So he too took a step forward, away from the piercing curve of your scythe that hung behind him like a shadow.

Roronoa was a little taller than you were, so meeting his gaze meant angling your neck upwards whilst he simultaneously moved his face an inch closer to yours. “You think you’re hot shit, huh? Try five, sweetheart.”

Your nostrils flared involuntarily at his bold claim, and something . . . something warm prickled underneath your skin at his referral to you as sweetheart. For some reason, that word━ especially coming from his lips━ was a bit harder to ignore compared to other comments about you from this bar's patrons. And what they said was far more conflicting than a simple term of endearment; even if the 'endearment' in question was so obviously meant to be condescending.

“Is that right? You think you're such a badass, don't you?"

"That's 'cause I am."

Roronoa's mocking sneer was punctuated with a step forward into your space this time; any closer and the front of your clothes might graze each other. The swordsman pushed the boundaries once more by adding a little more force onto the grip of his katana, enough to finally break the bonds of your umber tinted skin.

A barely decipherable noise of amusement and veneration rumbled in his chest when your blood dripped on the length of his sword, but your reaction was nothing more than an involuntary clench in your facial muscles.

"Yeah?" You questioned him with a glare and a tilt of your head in the direction of his blade that uncomfortably sat at the opening of your skin. The tightness in your voice was meant to goad him, but it also contained the sparks of a challenge━ and of something else you didn't want to identify━ that ignited in the pit of your stomach with an increasing amount of fervor.

"Yeah." His voice descended a little lower into a place that killed the next sentence on the tip of your tongue.

Your eyes then narrowed as you held Roronoa's taupe gaze, his overconfident words floated in the silent air between you like a speck of smoldering ash, ready to burst into something more intense and fierce the moment it touched the ground.

Then you shifted your cold gaze elsewhere, opting to let it lazily roam around the room. Everyone was staring at the both of you with uneasy expressions and anxious stares. You could tell that even at the slightest movement from either you or the swordsman would cause the panic bubbling beneath their skin to flood forth in waves.

If there was one thing about you, you preferred to be to discreet. It made your job a whole lot easier, and more enjoyable in the long run.

A hummed vibrated behind your plump lips and your glare returned to his. "Let's take this outside, swordsman. I'd hate to ruin this nice lady's establishment with scuff marks and your blood."

Roronoa huffed a scoff, the amused smirk from before uncurled into something more animalistic. "That's funny. But sure, I'm down. When I defeat you and spill your blood on the ground, it'll make perfect fertilizer for those little plants I saw outside."

You huffed at his cocky attitude and accompanied it with a roll of your eyes. Your stare pierced him for a moment longer before you rescinding it, along with your scythe that was still outstretched towards him. The mint haired swordsman followed suit after another beat or so.

"That's about as likely as a fish growing legs and walking on land." Your voice was thick with sarcasm as you fished out a cotton pouch from your bag; it was small in size, but heavy with Berry. As you slipped out a couple of bills to pay for the drink that sat idly forgotten at your seat, another hand forcefully placed several bills down on the counter.

That hand belonged to Roronoa. You had to force yourself from letting your irises linger too long, or else you'd start thinking about how rugged, calloused, and veiny it looked.

With a newfound general annoyance at both him and yourself, you proceeded to present the bills to the bartender, who looked as if she was one muscle twitch away from ducking under the table behind the counter. You offered something similar to a sympathetic smile to assuage whatever she was feeling.

"Don't bother." Roronoa called out.

When you turned around to greet his voice, he was sheathing the sword that he previously drawn and made his way to the entrance of the pub.

"What are you talking about?" As you inquired, the swordsman still allowed his back to face you, hardly pausing to properly address you.

"I said, don't bother." he repeated in a stern tone, as if that was going to elucidate exactly what he meant, "Now come on. I'm itching to cut you down so I can go lay down."

And without adding anything further, Roronoa eventually exited the bar and disappeared behind the doors.

You were starting to lose count of how many times you narrowed your eyes at the green-haired man, but your stare━ both equal parts vexed and confused━ rested on the doors he had just walked through as if glaring at them long or hard enough would summon him again.

With a sigh, you turned back to the thin stack of Berry he left on the table, eyeing it suspiciously. You weren't sure what he ordered or how much of it, but it look like quite a bit of money he'd just randomly tossed next to you.

Was he insinuating . . . . that he paid for both of your drinks? Could this be what he meant when he told you not to bother, because he already covered it? Such a gratuitous act of kindness, something seemingly so simple caused that weird fluttering to bounce against the walls of your stomach again.

Picking up your bag, you continued to poke and dissect his actions in an attempt find meaning in them as you tipped the barkeep, once more ignoring the stares of nearly every person in that building as you left.

The moment your heeled boots dug themselves into the ground, your peripheral vision was bombarded with something being swung in your direction at high speeds. Before you could even process what it was, you instinctively leapt out of the way, your neck jerking backwards to further avoid the object.

A grunt filled your ears, already knowing the origin of the sound. "Nice reflexes."

You exhaled an exasperated breath of air, turning your gaze to meet that of the mint-haired swordsman who had begun to unsheathe a second sword out of the three scabbards hanging from his hip.

"Can I at least breathe first? Set my stuff down perhaps?" You asked wryly, almost unimpressed, but you didn't waste any time removing the straps of your bag to set it down on a nearby barrel, still cursing the pirate hunter under your breath all the same.

"Didn't know you were that eager to eat dirt." The familiar hiss of your scythe's blade erecting from the rod sent a pleasurable chill up your arms. You held your weapon tightly at your side, your grasp around its length tightening ever still when Roronoa began to square his stance. Even when you were several feet away from him, you could still clearly see the crease in his brows becoming more prominent; he began to resemble some kind of beast.

But that glimmer in his eyes held no real fire in them━ at least not the one that would lead to anger; one could even say it was one of wild excitement. The swordsman already knew his thirst for a worthwhile fight would be sufficiently quenched once more.

"Shut up." With a grunt, Roronoa pushed off the balls of his feet to launch himself into a powerful sprint towards you. It was clear he wanted to close as much distance between the two of you as quickly as possible. His movements were reminiscent of his brief display of swordplay earlier in the bar, where he was one swipe away from slitting your throat.

He was fast, but the gritty and often dangerous nature of your job honed your reflexes to be faster.

Your spine bended as you briskly leaned backwards to dodge the double swipe of Roronoa's katanas. The sound of the sharp blades cutting through the very air around you. With it only inches away from your nose, it was enough to replace the blood pumping through your veins with pure adrenaline.

Using the momentum from your quick dodge, you allowed your back to curve into a bridge and kicked upwards into a backflip to move out of the way━ the corners of your lips twitched into a satisfied grin when you felt your foot collide with his jaw and chin.

Once you were upright again, you wasted no time lunging forward in a sprint, you body much lower to the ground than Roronoa's was. Your plan was to slash his legs to throw him off balance, but that plan quickly evaporated like smoke due to his quick recovery and immediate realization of what you were doing.

"Tch." Your tongue clicked against the roof of your mouth in annoyance when the swordsman was able to leap in the air in time to avoid your attack. He was high enough that you had to crane your neck to see. With that much height, the next blow was sure to be one with quite a bit of force behind it.

"Two-Swords Style, Nigiri...." The swordsman's orotund voice descended far from where he was suspended in midair, and you braced yourself for his next attack, "....Tower Climb Return!"

The following clash of piercing steel against metallic iron was deafening, swallowing up any other noise that reverberated around you. The sheer impact of Roronoa's attack created a thin ring of dust that encircled both your figures and violently buzzed against the pole of your scythe.

You gritted your teeth to remain footed into the ground, but the force was too much, and that shit-eating grin nearly unfurling at his lips was too annoying. It shook the steadiness in your legs and caused you to tumble back by several yards. By steeling your thighs and calves you willed yourself not to fall, huffing with effort and frustration.

It hadn't even been that long since you've last fought Roronoa, could he really have made noticeable improvements in a short amount of time?

Regardless of the answer, you weren't about to allow him the chance to prove himself.

The both of you then darted at each other again, your motions a bit more cutthroat this time, and a newborn determination to strike down the pirate hunter further fed the burning adrenaline that coursed through your body.

Reaching your arm backwards, you performed a horizontal slash that Roronoa parried almost instantly. With effortless control and graceful dexterity, you reached both arms behind your back and twirled your scythe between your fingers, shifting the weapon from one hand to the other, and attempted to cut him again.

He blocked that attack as well, the tip of the blade just inches away from his left eye. You saw something moving fast in your peripheral vision, and immediately jumped backwards to avoid the katana that was about to release your intestines from the confines of your stomach.

It was always a pain fighting Roronoa because he wielded multiple swords at once, which means battles with him were more drawn out than they needed to be.

You lunged at him once more, and began to administer a barrage of horizontal, vertical and diagonal slashes in rapid succession. Your constant switching from one hand to the other, in addition to its length and the impressive control you exerted over your limbs, you were able to create a variety of fluid, long and short-range attack patterns, barely allowing Roronoa enough time to parry.

The moss-haired swordsman was keeping up with the relentless flurry of your attacks quite well━ for a short while at least. Roronoa lost himself in his own inner monologue of searching for an opening wide enough to immobilize you, and before long, a red cut blossomed on his semi-exposed chest, the injury lazily drooling blood.

The amount of cuts both deep and shallow began to increase, tearing his skin asunder under the weight of your blows. Your scythe repeatedly made contact with the elongated ha of his katana as well as his tanned flesh, but it wasn't enough to deter him completely.

It should have been though, but the many encounters you've had with Roronoa reminded you that he was no ordinary man.

Within that bombardment of the numerous slices and projectile slashes of your scythe Roronoa had found a millisecond of respite, and used that brief pause to leap backwards and put some distance in between you two.

You weren't able to hear the aching cry from the muscles in your arms until after you halted your attack, but the adrenaline flickering in your gaze still raced around your irises unceasingly. Roronoa's own gaze was hard and unyielding, glistening with something you couldn't discern from where you stood. But even so, your body somehow knew to feel like malleable putty under his stare; it's as if it was instinctual.

And again your blades clashed against one another, a steady rhythm rose from the cacophony of noises that were generated from your battle with the swordsman. Your laborious breaths became synchronized with each other, heavy and full of effort. The thin splatters of blood became homogeneous with each other as the both of you took turns cracking each other's skin open. Your limbs moved about and against his in a deft fashion and every nerve in your body reacted to his.

So much so, you didn't even realize when it happened.

Your duel with Roronoa had been in the forefront of your mind entirely that you hadn't actively processed the moment when your ragged breaths turned to breathy pants. Nor did you realize the moment it was no longer a scythe and katanas clashing, but wet lips and warm extremities instead. That same glint that shimmered in your eyes all evening never faded even then; it still twinkled through the murky mist of lust that clouded yours and Roronoa's vision.

Whenever your eyes collided with that of Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro, an inescapable battle would always ensue━ it was tried and true, and it felt more like a promise. It was also true, although not externally expressed, that your fight with the mint-haired man was one that neither of you even wanted to evade.

With each brawl you learned something new about Roronoa, and you were repeatedly met with the reality and veracity of his skills, his reputation full-force. And when your brawl eventually led to the languid but hungry removal of each other's clothes, you learned more about Zoro, and the emotions hiding underneath his taut and rugged body. This learning curve was both all-consuming and tenderhearted, and you couldn't help but shiver at the fact you were the only one who could witness it.

And what good is a fight if he didn't learn from and about his opponent as well? Each new thing he unearthed about you was an incentive to further indulge your soft and fleshy curves, and observe how they seamlessly molded with firm, corded muscle. Completely unexpected, Zoro had become utterly fascinated with the warmth that resided under your icy, expressionless glare.

And when Zoro peeled back a new layer, when his lips hovered over an uncharted area of your skin━ hot, breathy, filled with groans of expletives intertwined with your name━ when the grip of his calloused fingers and his heavy cock simultaneously dug deeper into you, one leg dangling haphazardly off his shoulder, when your bodies meshed just like that, you moaned━ you knew you didn't want to stop fighting with him.

Again and again and again with each thrust, each roll of his hips, each sightless grope of your body, you knew you would gladly continue participating in this unspoken competition. You'd proudly don cuts and bruises if it meant you and you alone could have Roronoa Zoro like this. You'd keep at it with enthusiasm if it meant that your hearts would always collide so wholly with each other, not being able to tell where his ended and yours began.

( # ) @icy-spicy @godjo @tetzoro @triangularz @pookiesatoru

#໒꒱ newborn stand ─ sosa’s filez #one piece #op fanfic #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #one piece x reader #one piece zoro #one piece smut #black fem reader #zoro x black reader #zoro x female reader #roronoa zoro smut #op smut #one piece x black!reader #zoro x black fem reader #wow it feels so weird posting after a long while that i almost forgot how to do this LMAO

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wildemaven · 4 months ago

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life and loss | joel miller

pairing: dave york x f!reader / joel miller x f!reader word count: 1k content warnings: 18+ blog; death, grief/loss, major character death (no description of said death), AU and crossover universes, kind of fluffy, navigating loss, reader is non descriptive/blank slate. notes: this randomly came to me yesterday on my walk. It was meant to be just a moodboard and a small blurb to go along with it… and then this happened. Oops! Tried to pack a lot into a small thing so hopefully it makes sense.

Momentos of him, your late husband, have remained tucked away for the last year following his unexpected death. As you settle into your new widowed life and new home over a thousand miles away from the life you created with Dave, all the beautiful memories reside in cardboard boxes out of sight.

Word travels quickly through the small neighborhood about your arrival and marital status— or lack thereof. Welcoming introductions turn into unannounced check-ins and flowers. Uncomfortable small talk on your front porch is sprinkled throughout the following weeks, a hand on your shoulder accentuates their let us know if you need anything. Sympathetic casseroles finally dwindle allowing you to finally ease into this new season of your life.

The hammock left by the previous owners becomes your sanctuary most evenings. Searching for the brightest star in the night’s sky, then asking Dave how he’s doing before reading aloud to him the words from your latest book.

It's days later when you’ve read the final word that a small voice from over the fence manifests as a quirky teenage girl sitting at a table you’ve set up on your back patio. She has a million and one questions about the book and is filled with theories about what happens beyond its ending. The side gate is never regularly latched closed now, eagerly awaiting Ellie’s return. She navigates most of your late night conversations that follow, including personal stories and the history of her life. My grump of an old man is in construction. He’s single by the way— not by choice, but life happens.

His voice is calloused the first time he makes his presence known to you. Goddamn it, Ellie! I told you to leave her alone! They exchange brittle words back and forth through the shared barrier, before you insist he join the two of you. The crunch of his boots on the ground stall when he towers over where you’re still seated. His hand engulfing yours, warm and gentle as he tries to determine where his gaze should fall— you, the ground, the smirking teenager sitting across from you. Joel. Joel Miller. Uh, Ellie n’ I live next door. Not sure how long she’s been botherin’ you, but I’ll be sure it doesn’t happen again.

It’s weeks later when you run into Joel at the mailboxes. The clanking of keys and squeaky hinges fill the space between you before you’re both retreating back to your respective pathways. Your hands fidget and twist the bills and letters from your parents when you bravely initiate a conversation before he’s able to reach his front door. She’s the first person since moving here who wanted to talk to me about something other than the death of my husband. I don’t think I’ve laughed as much as I have with her in a long time. She’s welcome over here anytime.

He reeks of nervousness as he stands on your doorstep the following evening. The ambered hue of his eyes absorb the warmth from the front porch light, adding a brightness to them that they seem to be commonly lacking. His words waver a bit as he begins to speak, starting and stopping, scrubbing his hand down his face before he attempts to start again. You offer him nothing but patience, sensing the mournful energy radiating off him— similar to the one you’ve been carrying. My wife and older daughter— they were both in an accident on their way to Sarah’s soccer game. I was pickin’ up Ellie from her counseling group for adopted kids. We were headin’ to the soccer field when I got the call. Some days are harder than others. And everyone wants to help, however that may be— lots of food as I’m sure you know. It doesn’t ever really get easier, but you learn to live with grief. Anyways, if you ever need anything or just want to talk— you know where I live.

He accepts your impulsive invitation to join you for dinner, offering him the open seat across from you in the same spot as your timid first meeting. The crickets orchestrate the evening ambience as you share stories you’d tucked away, too painful to revisit until now. You find you laugh just as much, if not more, with Joel. Even among the tears shed, the conversation is filled with a hope and optimism that you longed for.

You still feel his wholesome embrace long after you’ve called it a night to seek out much needed sleep. But much like the nights that ensued after Dave’s death, loneliness and the weight of your grief rear its head.

The black ink glides over the surface of the paper. Line after line formulated a year’s worth of unsaid words that had been bottled up and blockaded by the rigid walls you’d built around them. Joel was right about the therapeutic effect of getting rid of the burdensome thoughts that come with loss, finding it’s hard to stop now that you’ve started.

You convey the love that you still carry for Dave, something you’ll never willfully ignore or regret. It feels wrong but you touch on the hatred you feel towards his death; you hate him for leaving you, hate that you miss him, hate that some nights you forget the small details that you cherished about him. You tell him about Joel and the kindness he’s afforded you in a short time of knowing him and that there’s life beyond losing the love of your life. To look for the light even when shrouded by darkness.

Pictures and trinkets find their way out of the cardboard confines Joel helped pull out from the guest room closet. The bare walls now filled with familiar faces and shelves adorn with colorful memories that you tried so hard to keep hidden.

Joel and Ellie being a constant presence in your life allows you to see that life can surprise you when you least expect it and there’s room for new love.

#Dave york #joel miller #dave york x reader #dave york x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #wildemaven moodboard #dave york imagine #joel miller imagine #wildemaven writes

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she-who-fights-and-writes · 3 months ago

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Hi! Firstly, thank you for creating this blog and helping all of us out! Secondly, and sorry if this is such a silly question, but how do you write an engaging summary?

I find my own fic summaries are so… lackluster… and not even I’m interested in reading it — so how I can I expect others to be? Even if I like my story, when I write the summary in the start of my fic/in my masterlist, I’m like “Wow… this is not even remotely interesting! 😭”

So yeah, I was wondering if you had any tips/advice for that? 😭 Totally fine if not, I just figured I’d ask. Thanks and have a great day/night! 😘

HOW TO WRITE AN ENGAGING FIC SUMMARY THAT WILL DRAW IN AUDIENCES

Summaries are the bane of many writers’ existences, including my own. It’s already hard enough to get the words down on paper for the actual story, and now people want you to convince them to read it with something more than “I WORKED REALLY HARD ON IT PLEASE IT’S GOOD I PROMISE!!!!”

Squishing a ton of context into a small blurb seems impossible, but I promise it can be done!

Obviously everyone goes about things differently, and a lot of these tips may not work for everyone, but nevertheless, here are some tricks on how to write an engaging summary!

Here’s a simple template I like to use, which will be the focus of this post:

Hook (Draw the reader in!)

Context (What are the core elements of your story?)

Cliffhanger (Introduce a question/scenario that the reader will want to click to know more about!)

1. Start With a Hook

Just like with the first sentence of a story, the first sentence of your summary should immediately spark the reader’s interest.

A bold statement! A good (short) quote from your fic! A shocking discovery! A cool word definition/the definition of your title!

I always like to put the hook of the story on its own line/paragraph, just to emphasize it.

Examples of a hook (Note, these are rushed and off the top of my head. Just meant to give a general idea, not be literary masterpieces): - "It all started when Character A puked on their Uber driver." - "War was inevitable." - "Character A would be dead by sunrise. That’s what Character B vowed." - "By the time they got to the city, it was too late."

Your hook is probably the most important part of your summary; someone will know within milliseconds whether or not they will continue reading.

Once you’re past that initial hump, it’ll be easier to convince a potential reader to skim the rest of the summary. Giving something that jumps out at them will set your story apart from others and ensure it gets that click you deserve!

2. Give Some Context

For shorter one-shots, sometimes a single hook is enough! But if your fic is longer, with a bit more moving parts, you might want to choose a few highlights. Get the essence of your story on paper.

This can be super hard, so don’t feel discouraged if you feel like you’re not getting it. I’d suggest keeping your context to about 1-3 sentences depending on the length of your story, so make sure they count.

Buzzwords are a key factor in getting the main points across. Use ones that relate to your main plot to your advantage!

For example, if I were to make a short summary of Game of Thrones for someone who has never watched it before, I would definitely include some of these buzzwords: - Dragons - Conquest - Succession - Revenge - Slaughter - Betrayal

Using powerful words (i.e. slaughtered instead of killed) can help draw in your audience!

I can't dictate exactly how you should write your context, since every fic is different and shouldn't be brought under an umbrella of the same rules, so it might help to find inspiration from other people’s summaries.

3. Pose a Question the Reader Will Want the Answer To

The biggest point of a summary is the “so what?” factor. You have all of these tags, but how does the fic make use of them?

A summary shouldn’t be giving all of the answers, but it should still leave crumbs for the reader’s imagination! This doesn’t mean that you literally need to put a question in the summary, but rather pose an unresolved scenario/problem that the reader will want to click to know the solution to.

Here are some example sentence templates that pose an indirect question, often put at the end of a summary to spark interest (Note, these are rushed and off the top of my head. Just meant to give a general idea, not be literary masterpieces): - "Everything changes the moment Character A makes a choice they can't take back." (What is that choice? How does it affect the other characters?) - "As the truth comes to light, nothing will ever be the same." (What is the truth? How does it change things?) - "A dangerous game begins, and only one can emerge unscathed." (Who will be that person?) - “It’s the first time they meet, but it won’t be the last” (What will be these next instances? How do their worlds collide?)

4. Some General Advice

If you don't think the above format works well with your fic, here's just some general advice that can help you out!

DON'T MAKE IT TOO LONG

The biggest mistake I see writers making when posting their work is having a giant four-paragraph summary for their story that takes up half of the feed.

Unfortunately, in an age of fast swiping and instant gratification, a reader may skip over a super long summary simply because they don’t feel like reading all of it.

(The reason why long summaries work for books is because people are more patient when they intend on paying to read something; they’ll take more time considering investments than they would with a free read, since they want to make sure it's worth their money. It’s not fair, but that’s kind of how it goes.)

In my opinion, a fic summary should be no more than one short paragraph, two or three sentences max for a one-shot and maybe five sentences for a long fic.

This isn't exact. It really depends on the length and complexity of the sentence, because no matter the how many you use, if there are enough words to make folks comprehend it as a big block of text, then they’re going to be more likely to skip it.

People looking for long fics will be more patient (since they’re making an investment with their time, rather than money) but if you want to appeal to a wider audience that may be casually browsing and stumble across your fic, definitely consider a more brief route.

PROOFREADING MATTERS!

Because summaries are often an afterthought, many writers don’t put as much effort into it as they would the rest of their story.

I wouldn’t recommend this; people are basing their ENTIRE initial opinion of your fic on this small blurb.

If you rush it and make spelling or grammar errors, people will assume that the rest of your fic is also riddled with errors and scroll past!

Make sure to proofread!

Hope this helped, and happy writing!

#writing #writing tips #writing advice #writing help #writeblr #booklr #creative writing #fic #fanfiction #ao3 #fanfic #fic summary #summary #writing summaries

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darlingsfandom · 3 months ago

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If your free (it's ok when your busy and need rest 😁 take care)

When Tommy and changretta reader have their first child a daughter . The little girl reminded Tommy of his late daughter ruby he's soft with her (plus protective) y/n can tell after he told her about what happened . He's got a chance with a daughter again it went well she's a daddy's girl with y/n can't stop smiling how her daughter makes Tommy soft to protective

I was going to make this a blurb but I decided to headcanon it instead!

•Tommy is 100% a girl dad!

•When he found out you were pregnant he actually cried ! He couldn’t believe it at first but after going to the doctor with you he was still in shock!

•it took a few tries to get you pregnant but he wasn’t complaining one bit on that!

•He got Arthur and John to help him set up the nursery which was a light pink!

•The whole family gave you a huge baby shower! Spoiled you with little dresses, shoes and even a cap to match Tommy’s!

•after you had your daughter Tommy instantly fell in love with her! She had your eyes and his nose! And more hair than John ! That was a Tommy joke.

•The first couple of months were hard for the both of you. The sleep schedule was trash. You couldn’t get out of bed, Tommy missed Ruby at times because this was his second daughter but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love her any less.

•Her name ? Lillian Polly Shelby ! Of course she’s gotta be named after aunt Polly! Everyone called her Lilly for short.

•Tommy helped her take her first steps! He was a little salty her first word was Mama but she soon learned dada afterwards.

•When she was actually talking in short sentences she did really well. Tommy was in a meeting when she came in running around yelling “fuck!” All the men laughed including Tommy. He’d tell her that’s a grown up word to which she’d argue how he uses it all the time and so does mommy !

•on her fifth birthday Tommy gave her a locket that a picture of you and him in it! She loved that locket and wore it everywhere !!

•One her first day of school she came home upset because she missed the two of you! That night Tommy read her a bedtime story twice!

•As she got older she started noticing boys and Tommy did not like that ! She brought home a boy to study and Tommy made sure to keep his gun out to scare the boy and it worked.

•Lilly came home crying one day from school because a group of girls told her she’s ugly and that boiled his blood! He talked to his daughter about how looks don’t matter and its brains! He talked about how he fell in love with you and not just because you’re pretty but because you’re smart, funny, a good kisser to which she made a face ! Tommy got her to laugh !

•Soon enough his baby girl was graduating and going off to uni! He paid her for to go. She decided to go for business because she wanted to be like Tommy just not as violent!

•she’d visit on breaks and Tommy would always send her back to school with a little letter to remind her of home.

•Lilly met a boy! She brought him home one day and Tommy tested him in every way possible. He did not approve! Tommy knew the boy only liked her because of her name and money!

•He comforted Lilly. When she went back to study she focused hard and graduated top of her class.

•A few years later she did meet a boy that Tommy approved of! He even shook the boys hand the night they met! Pretty soon it was wedding day.

•Tommy held onto Lilly’s arm tightly doing his best to hold back his tears but it was impossible and started crying when he said “Her mother and I do!” And sat down next to you as he watched his little girl get married.

•When Tommy found out he was going to be a grandpa he about died! He was excited !

•When Lilly had the baby, she had a boy and named him Benjamin Thomas ! Tommy cried hearing that his grandson had his name! Tommy had lived a beautiful life .

#thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby x fem!reader #thomas shelby blurb #thomas shelby fluff #thomas shelby drabble #Thomas Shelby head canon #peaky blinders #peaky blinders blurb #thomas shelby peaky blinders #Cillian Murphy #emsblurbs

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its-vannah · 2 years ago

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Girl, Put Your Records On | Eddie Roundtree x Reader

A/N: I haven't seen any fics with him, so I had to make one. I love his character so much.

Blurb: Being the daughter of a music producer has its perks, and one of those is meeting Daisy Jones and The Six's Eddie Roundtree.

Warnings: Just fluff and a hit of angst, implied intercourse (no detail)

Daisy Jones and The Six Masterlist

Being the daughter of a music producer had it's perks. For starters, you were able to listen to new albums and singles before anyone else. While the rest of the world waited for upcoming releases, you were already taking the record out of its sleeve and putting it on the phonograph.

Not to mention all the artists and bands you were able to meet. Your father was constantly popping open a bottle of champagne to celebrate his clients to celebrate their upcoming albums and tours.

Although you were too young to drink yourself, it was nice to feel included. Being there with your father, surrounded by new and interesting people with dozens of stories to share.

But being the daughter of a music producer has its downsides, too. On the smaller scale, sometimes your favorite songs wouldn't make the cut. When you were younger, it hit harder. But as you got older, you just accepted it and moved on.

That wasn't the only down that the role came with, however. You were a young, beautiful, kind girl with a heart of gold and a lot of love to give. Not many men in the industry had any problem taking advantage of that.

There was a thrill to it, for them. Sneaking around with their producer's daughter with the possibility of getting caught at any moment. You were sixteen when you had your first love. He told you all the right things, did all the right things. But the night before he left, he tried to convince you to "live in the moment" while leading you to his van.

It didn't take long for you to realize what was happening, so you freed yourself from his grasp, shoving him back and walking back inside your home.

He was too old for you, anyway. He was twenty, and you were still a kid. It wasn't right, but it was the seventies and he was gaining popularity. It didn't matter what he did, he had every girl in America wrapped around his finger. You, however, had made the choice not to be one of them.

A few years later, when you were nineteen, an up and coming group walked inside your father's studio. He was hesitant about letting them record, but he trusted Teddy and gave them a shot, alllowing you to sit inside the sound booth to hear them play.

You could see the nervousness written all over their faces as they got ready to play. They wanted to impress Teddy, and you didn't blame them. He wasn't easy to read.

Reclining in your seat beside Marcus, who gradually increased the volume on the lead vocalist and lowered the sound of the guitars, you smiled as you listened to them play.

By the end of their demo, you were on the edge of your seat waiting to find out whether or not they'd get an offer.

While Teddy went to discuss it with your father, you stepped out of the sound booth and made your way towards the group.

Smiling, you held out a hand to the only woman, who was closest to you when you walked in, introducing yourself, "Hey, I'm Y/N."

Karen gave you a gentle smile, shaking your hand, "Nice to meet you, I'm Karen."

The drummer, who was fiddling with his drum sticks, hollered over her, "That's Karen Karen."

Raising a brow, you couldn't help but release a small laugh, "Karen Karen?"

The blonde shot him a look, "Fuck off, Warren."

Warren grinned, nodding his head as a way of greeting you.

Beside him, the lead vocalist looked over at you, "Is there something you need, Samantha?"

"It's Y/N," You corrected, "And I just wanted to say I like your sound. It's different. I think you guys have a good chance of getting a deal."

One of the guitarists, the one with curly hair who had been ogling Karen for the past half hour, smiled up at you from his seat on the amp, "Thank you, Y/N. Our main focus is creating music that people l-"

"For the love of God, Graham, shut up," The vocalist grumbled, turning back towards you, "Look, it's nice to meet you, but we're a bit busy here."

Graham held his hands up in surrender, returning to fiddling with his guitar, mouthing "sorry" to you.

The fifth member of the group, who had been nervously tapping his foot flashed his bandmate an irritated look, "C'mon, Billy, she's just being nice. At least people actually like our music."

"Eddie, all I'm saying is that we need to spend less time socializing and more time figuring out what we do if we don't get this deal."

On that note, you cleared your throat, "You'll get the deal."

Simultaneously, Eddie and Billy spoke over one another, the former asking if you really thought so and the latter asking how in the hell you knew.

"I know Mr. L/N well, and so does Teddy. Look, the last few bands Teddy has invested in haven't been doing too great. But I really think you guys have a chance. I know you guys do."

Eddie gave you a lopsided smile, "They liked us in Pittsburgh, I don't see how this is any different."

Billy glared back at him, "If you'll excuse us, I think we have a few things to discuss."

Nodding, you turned to exit, giving the band one last smile. But before you could step out the door, Teddy came back in with your father in tow.

Teddy looked at the band, "We're giving you a shot, don't blow it."

The band, who Teddy had earlier referred to as The Six, erupted in smiles, hugging each other and patting one another on the back.

Your dad wrapped an arm around you, addressing the band, "I see you've met my daughter?"

Billy's eyes widened a bit. He thought you were just some random kid. But you had been in the sound booth, he should've known better.

Warren, who was very obviously high, nodded, "Yeah, she's hot."

Wincing, Karen glared at him, "She's been very kind, Mr. L/N."

Your dad eyed Warren, kissing you on the head before congratulating the band one last time, kissing you on the forehead, and walking back to his office.

Once he was out of sight, Eddie took one of Warren's drumsticks out of his hands and smacked him on the head with it, muttering, "Dumbass, that was her dad."

The drummer's mouth formed an "O", "You think he knows?"

"Jesus Christ, Warren," Karen said, shaking her head before turning to Billy, "And you, you need to get the stick out of your ass."

A look of pride settled on Eddie's face. You could tell the two of them didn't see eye to eye just from the small interactions you had with them.

Moving towards the exit, you waved them goodbye, "I'll see you guys around."

Warren and Graham waved happily, Karen and Billy nodded, and Eddie tilt his head to the side with a smile.

Once you were out of earshot, Karen looked back at Eddie, "Jealous, are you, Roundtree?"

"Piss off, Karen."

Warren looked between the two of them, connecting the dots, "Psst, Karen, I think he's jealous."

Rolling her eyes, she flashed him an irritated smile, "Yeah, I figured that out, thanks."

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

Billy: As soon as we got the news and packed up, I ran to the nearest phone to tell Camila. She had always believed in us, and now everything was falling into place.

Karen: I think I went back and got drunk in my room afterwards. We may have gone out to eat, I don't remember. We had been living gig to gig, I was just happy to have an income.

Camila: It was the first time in a while that Billy really seemed happy with how the band was going. He had always believed in it, but I really think it helped him to see that everything was coming into place. That we wouldn't be living in a shack forever.

Warren: I don't even remember being in the studio. I was in my twenties, I was doing anything I could get my hands on. Drugs, alcohol, women. I was just along for the ride.

Karen: I could still kill Warren for telling the producer's daughter, Y/N, that she was hot in front of her dad.

Warren: We all thought it. Especially Eddie. I was just the one who said it.

Eddie: There was something about Y/N that was different. She wasn't just a newfound fan, she believed in us from the start. She and Camila were the first people to have our record in their hands. As for Warren's comment to her dad... She was beautiful, still is, I just think he could've handled it better. A lot better. By not saying anything.

Graham: It was nice to know that someone outside of the band and Teddy believed in us. Moving out to LA meant that we were starting over. In Pittsburgh, nearly the whole city had heard of us. At least, the people our age.

Eddie: That day was a turning point for the band.

Camila: There was no going back after that. They started recording and within a month, they were on their first tour.

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

You came to every recording session The Six had, excitedly listening to their songs and giving input. You studied the way Marcus moved the volume and reverb, making a mental note of it. What he did had always fascinated you, and he was willing to teach you. It was one of the perks of being F/N L/N's daughter. People bent over bsckwards to make you happy.

Over the course of their time recording, you went out for drinks a few times with them.

You met Camila, who you adored, and quickly became friends with. You wouldn't have changed any of it for the world.

Well, except one thing.

From the moment you met Eddie Roundtree, your heart hadn't stopped fluttering, skipping a beat every time he walked into the room.

Warren constantly teased the two of you about it, suggesting different ways to release the tension between the two of you.

Karen kicked him under the table, giving him a look that sent fear down his spine.

It made the moment awkward for a minute, but the band could sense it was bound to happen.

Eddie was used to being pushed around by Billy, who was by far the most popular and well-known member of The Six. But for once, he was first place. With you.

The two of you often nursed a glass of champagne, talking to one another at the bar while Graham attempted to flirt with Karen, who wound up finding another guy to hook up with, and Warren fell into a crowd of women.

He took a sip, looking down at you, "What's it like, getting to hear new music before anyone else? Not just ours, but in general."

"It's incredible. Don't get me wrong, being in the studio so much has its ups and downs, but I wouldn't trade it for the world. There's nothing else I can imagine myself doing. That's why I want to work in the sound booth."

"You do?"

"Yeah, Marcus offered to teach me a while back. I just wanted to wait until you guys went on tour. I just want to focus on The Six, just taking it all in."

Eddie bit his bottom lip, "So... You and Marcus...?"

You shook your head, "Are friends. My mother is friends with his. We grew up together, he's just a few years older. He's protective, like how I imagine an older brother would be."

He nodded, "So, are you seeing anyone?"

"No," You let out a shaky breath, not meeting his eyes, "Are you?"

"No, are—I already asked you that," He said nervously, swirling his glass in his hand, "Do you... Have an interest in... You know, seeing anyone?"

"It depends on who it is," You said, heat rising to your cheeks, "And you? Anyone on your mind?"

He set down his glass, looking at you, "There is."

Meeting his eyes, you turned your back to the counter, leaning on it for support, "What's she like?"

"You have a mirror?"

You burst out laughing, "Is that your best line, Eddie? C'mon, you can do better than that."

He put his head in his hands, embarrassed.

Pressing a hand to his back, you used your other to pry his head away from his hands, "Don't worry, you can make it up to me."

Raising a brow, he tilted his head, "And how can I do that?"

"Pick me up on Friday at six."

"That's the day before tour starts."

"I know."

He nodded, "Wear something nice."

"Don't I always," You tease, stumbling into his chest.

He lifted the glass from your hands, "You know what I mean. I do, however, think you've had enough of this. C'mon, I'll drive you home"

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

Warren: I was so happy to see Eddie leaving with Y/N. He was growing up, leaving the nest. It was about time he got laid.

Eddie: I drove her home. She had driven herself, but I was worried with her having three glasses. Truthfully, I just wanted to see her get home safe. And she did. I dropped her off at her door, walked her up, and waited until she got inside before I left. Once I got back in the car, it hit me—I had a date with Y/N.

Karen: I think he was more excited about the date than the record deal.

Eddie: It had just been a big few months. Moving to LA, getting a deal, meeting Y/N. Things were finally going my way.

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

Eddie: Long distance relationships weren't easy by any means. I was the one who had to call, since we were constantly moving around. It strained us a bit, but she was able to go to a few of our concerts and I got to see her, take her out a few times.

Karen: Y/N visited us while we were in the northeastern part of the states. She stayed with us for a week and a half. And I never got any damn sleep while she was with Eddie. They could've been quieter, but I guess it was young love.

Eddie: She had her own hotel room during her time staying with us. Her dad set it up. We'd just stay in mine talking to one another.

Warren: Eddie swore nothing happened in his hotel room when he was alone with her, but I was on the other side of the wall. Look, I was pretty high, but it'd be hard to forget that. I may have been the one to call her hot, but he was the one that took it three, four steps further. Good for him, though.

Eddie: It was only when we got back from the tour that things started to go downhill with me and Y/N.

Camila: After I gave birth to Julia, Billy checked into Rehab. I was on my own for a while. But when the band came back, they were there to help me. Julia enjoyed time with Uncle Graham and Eddie, and Y/N whenever she was off work.

Graham: Eddie and I were there a few times a week just helping out and checking in on Camila and Julia. I loved that kid more than anything. We'd just sit out in the grass and I'd sing to her.

Eddie: Camila needed all the help she could get, especially with Billy not being there. Not that he would've done much anyway, to be honest. I tried to be there for her and Julia in any way I could. I didn't realize that it would tear Y/N and I apart.

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

"Eddie, I barely ever get to see you. Can't you go one day without seeing Camila and Julia? You can stay with me. It's better than that shack."

"That shack is my home, whether it's shit or not, Y/N," He grumbled, "Camila needs all the help she can get with Julia. She's only a few months old."

"Her mother is with her, Eddie. She's got her mom, Graham, the whole band really. It's not that I don't want you to be with them, I just want to see you. I never get to see you."

Eddie sighed, "Y/N, they mean everything to me."

"They're your bandmates, I get it, I just—"

"Y/N..."

It was written all over his face. He wasn't just talking about The Six.

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

Karen: We'd all known, except for maybe Billy and Camila, that Eddie was in love with Camila. We just thought that he had put those feelings aside when he met Y/N.

Warren: Out of all the girls Eddie had dated, which hadn't been much, she was my favorite. She was fun, she kept up with us, she was passionate about music and the band. When they broke up, I nearly snapped the guys neck. And I'm not a violent guy. She just deserved better than whatever the hell that was.

Eddie: Camila and Billy were married. I would never have come in the way of that. At the same time, it wasn't fair to Y/N. I loved her with my whole being, but I still had some unresolved feelings for Camila that started stiring when Billy was gone. It's wrong, and I know that, but it wasn't fair.

Graham: Eddie was an idiot for what happened. I remember when he came back from their first date. He swore up and down that they'd get married one day.

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

When the band broke up, everyone went their separate ways. Karen continued touring, this time without Daisy and The Six. Warren got married and started working on boats, which became a passion for him. Billy stepped away from music and settled into life with Camila and his daughters and Graham continued working in the music industry, starting his own family. Daisy recovered from her addictions, and wound up adopting kids of her own.

These all took years to play out. But not for Eddie.

As soon as the band was over with, the first thing he did was buy a ticket to LA and knock on Y/N's door.

He explained everything and told her he loved her, he always had.

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

Y/N Roundtree: Eddie proposed to me the night he showed up on my doorstep. He told me he couldn't imagine a life without me. I was touched.

Eddie: But she said no.

Y/N: I loved him, but I told him it would take time. We still had so much we didn't know about each other. It had been ages since I had seen him. I didn't even know that the Six had split up until he told me. He was back in LA that fast after the split.

Eddie: We did get to know each other, though. And I proposed almost a year later. We got married a few months after that. And the rest is history.

Y/N: It was a quiet ceremony. Eddie didn't want Billy there, and thought it may be a bit off putting for me to have Camila there. But I knew how much he cared about her and the girls, so we extended an invite.

Camila: Billy and Eddie never really saw eye to eye, and with Billy finally getting comfortable with family life, I didn't think it would be good to thrust him back into that.

Eddie: Y/N was a little upset they chose not to come, but understood. If you invite half a family, it doesn't exactly work.

Billy: I was surprised Eddie found the balls to get married.

Y/N: It wound up just being Eddie's immediate family, mine, Marcus, Warren, and Graham. Daisy showed up a few days earlier to congratulate us on our wedding, bringing a guitar with her as a gift. She just didn't think being back in that environment would be good for her. There would be too many questions.

Daisy: Just because the band was over doesn't mean the music couldn't continue. Eddie was a good guitarist and Y/N knew everything about managing sound and rhythms, so I figured it was an appropriate gift. I was really happy for them.

Eddie: Karen was touring at the time and wasn't able to make it, but she visited once the tour was over and stayed a few days.

Y/N: I preferred having a smaller wedding, with the people we knew the most.

Warren: They had great alcohol. I wasn't high during the reception, so I was actually able to enjoy it. I even met my wife there.

Graham: It made me long for a relationship, honestly. But it also made me realize I need to focus on myself first. I didn't want to just settle to settle.

Y/N: Our son was born a year and a half after we got married and music was automatically a big part of his life. He'd sit on Eddie's lap at not even a year old while Ed played the guitar. I still have pictures of them back then on the mantle.

Grant Roundtree, Eddie and Y/N's oldest son: I remember when I decided I wanted to pursue music. Dad sat me down and explained what happens when you achieve fame and how to handle it. Mom told me that I needed to take it one step at a time and really enjoy my childhood.

Farrah Roundtree, Eddie and Y/N's daughter: Grant never stopped playing that damn guitar mom gave him.

Grant: Sometimes I played just to drive Farrah and Eli crazy. I never stopped.

Eli Roundtree, Eddie and Y/N's youngest son: I wanted to be just like Grant when I was younger. He was my cooler, older brother. He even taught me how to play the guitar and I could carry a tune, but my stage fright got in the way of anything beyond that.

Eddie: Grant went into the music field, Farrah pursued modeling and is now acting, and Eli is just now graduating from high school, planning to attend college this fall.

Y/N: I'll always be grateful for Daisy Jones and The Six, but I've got to be honest—I'm even happier it ended when it did.

Eddie: Everything happens for a reason, and for me, it couldn't have ended at a better time.

#eddie roundtree #edward roundtree #eddie roundtree x reader #daisy jones & the six #daisy jones and the six #daisy jones fanfic #daisy jones and the six fanfic #fanfic #fic #x reader #taylor jenkins reid #amazon prime

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lowkeyrobin · 8 months ago

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Mid90s gang reacting to reader writing a book about them and their friendship and reader wins a writing contest!!

- ♣️ (I'm giving you fluff okay I've decided I've tortured you enough with angst 🙄)

LMFAO YES YOU HAVE and I've been procrastinating those oneshots you sent me 💀💀

MID90S ; writer

includes ; fuckshit, ray, fourthgrade, ruben (platonic), & stevie (platonic)

warnings ; language, mentions of alcohol and drugs

masterlist

FUCKSHIT

you were no writer what-so-fucking-ever

while high, he dared you to enter some writing contest for school

"how funny would it be if some random junior won?"

honestly it would be funny, considering you're not a writer, you're a skater

you entered just for the fun of it, plus you had a great chance at beating some of the other contestants because you knew their writing was shit

you didn't even know what to write for the first two weeks

then it popped up in your head, like holy shit it was so obvious

you decided to write about yours and fuckshits long friendship history

from how you met, to your nicknames and to your other friends

let's just say, other than the profanity, the judges/senior english teachers loved it

you wrote like a whole motherfucking novel too

you got second place, considering they'd be in trouble for awarding a book with so much inappropriate content with first

plus the person who won first definitely deserved it

teachers were literally suggesting you publish the fuckin thing too like calm down ⁉️⁉️

fuckshit was too lazy to read it at first, but once you told him it was about you two and that you won second place? nah reading that was all he did

I honestly hc that he's a little dyslexic so he was struggling a little bit

but he loved it, it was genuinely moving to him and its literally about him

brought him to tears that he tried to hide

which he did to help his fragile ego by hugging you and hiding his face in your shoulder

genuinley so grateful for you

RAY

you were kinda iffy with writing

but once you saw the amount of money you could get from winning...?

shit sign me up

a thousand dollars to win first off of something you wrote? okay let's go LMAO

you didn't know what to write about because it's not like there was a given prompt so you just kinda spilled out stories and shit about you and ray

you made sure to leave out all the drugs and shit because you weren't gonna try and get in trouble LMAO honestly real

the judges loved it though

it was about 104 pages, so you made the actual like minimum, which was 80 pages

but thankfully for you, quantity doesn't equal quality

you actually got third surprisingly

that's still 400 dollars though

you didn't actually tell Ray or the others about you joining that contest so when you walked in with 400 dollars, a smile on your face and your skateboard and 52 sheets of notebook paper connected by a keyring under your arm, damn

you quickly explained and set your stuff down and Ray just scooped you up and spun you around while he hugged you

he's a simpleton but you got him giggling and shit okay??

genuinley so flustered that you wrote about you and him of all people like huh

he reads it front to back at least 3 times

FOURTHGRADE

you were pretty passionate about writing

so when your school was promoting a novel contest you knew you had to join

a thousand dollars would've done you a lot

you spent the next six months writing about you and fourthgrade, stories, how you met, favorite memories, random blurbs, etcetera

you told him about it but never that you were writing about him

you wanted it to be a surprise lmao

i also hc that he's a little dyslexic so 💀

you actually won too

apparently it was so "inspiring and moving amongst the youths" that you won ONE THOUSAND DOLLARS for it, IN CASH

you sprinted over to Motorz and immediately wrapped fourthgrade in a hug

"thanks for being such great inspiration"

"huh?"

you genuinley just retold some of his camcorder tapes for a bit of the book too so you had to give him some credit

you gave him 200 dollars because he refused to take any more

the duo

RUBEN

bro couldn't care less that you joined a writing competition

"whatever you want"

you have the annoying sibling dynamic what can I say

"dude I'll give you 100 bucks if you just be supportive"

"fine"

you wrote about him and your awesome sibling relationship

you made sure to cut out all the abuse and just say "growing up in a rough household" and "growing up not as privileged as everyone else" and shit bc you weren't getting cps called on anyone

you wrote like 70 pages

you got third

but you got 200 dollars so you basically split it with him

he ended up reading it because he was bored at motorz one night and you left it laying around

he's never smiled while crying before

you come in the next morning and he just silently hugs you

you see the book thing on the couch where he slept and you just kinda knew

"why are you crying?"

"i'm not!"

STEVIE

you also have a very sibling like dynamic

although instead of annoying each other you're kind of the comfort siblings you've both never had

so when you brought up the fact you joined a writing competition because you had a good chance at winning, he was like "oh cool"

"i'm writing about you"

"what the fuck why?"

he's supportive tho

he'll ask how it's going and stuff and you'll just give a vague answer

by the time they're due and judged, he asks what you placed

you shrug and pull out a thousand dollars cash from your backpack with a smile

"holy shit!"

you smile and hand him half of it

he's confused as to why but accepts it graciously

I mean half of its about him so he deserves some credit

gives you a little hug and shit

#lowkeyrobin #mid90s x reader #mid90s imagine #mid90s preference #fuckshit x reader #ray x reader #fourthgrade x reader #stevie mid90s #ruben mid90s #a24 films #skater film #fuckshit mid90s #ray mid90s #fourthgrade mid90s #gn reader #gender neutral reader #they/them reader #♣️ anon

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2btheanswertothequestion · 2 years ago

Text

She finds out about it a few weeks after her classes start. It happens by chance, and almost seems too good to be true.

But it's not.

The University of Illinois does actually have its own newspaper for gays and lesbians. It exists, made explicitly for them, by them.

And Robin needs it.

It requires some snooping, though it's basically nothing after everything she did at Starcourt. Soon enough, she is $8.50 ($7.50 for a yearly subscription and $0.5 each for the two previous issues) poorer in dollars and infinitely richer in happiness.

People Like Us: News, opinions, and features for the C-U gay and lesbian community it says on the front page. Issues 2 and 3 are both 8 pages long while the first issue is slightly shorter. They have everything. News about marches in Chicago and local gay-friendly businesses. Opinion pieces on places to meet up and homophobia. Roommate ads, reviews, and personal stories. News about AIDS. And, in the very back, a blurb proclaiming LESBIAN CONTRIBUTORS WANTED.

Maybe that'll be her one day. She's no Nancy, but she can write. For now, though, she's content with reading. It's almost overwhelming to hold the papers, knowing that it's made by people like her. That someone like her might be reading the same words at the same time. Less lonely, in a way.

No one else on campus knows about her. Ellen, her dorm mate, seems fine so far, but Robin won't take her chances just yet. She struck gold with Steve, Eddie, and the kids, but someday her luck will run out. So she hides the issues in a hard folder under her mattress whenever she isn't reading.

Then she gets the October issue in her hand and nearly dies of excitement. On the front page, the news section is announcing that "two highly acclaimed gay/lesbian films are set to appear on campus this month". The groundbreaking Desert Hearts and Parting Glances will be screened four times each, one week apart from each other, at the end of the month.

At her first opportunity, she calls and tells Steve about it.

"You have to come and see them with me!" she says. "I can't go alone!"

So he does, and he barely complains about the 3-hour drive.

On Sunday, October 19, he shows up at 7 in front of her building. They catch up while having a bite to eat before the film. It's mostly her talking, blabbing about classes and professors and new people and Illinois and the college experience while he chews his half of the pizza, staring at her with big eyes that scream I missed you, I missed you, I missed you!

She takes every chance she gets to knock their feet together under the table and clutches his arm on their way to the film. Just in case her own eyes don't scream it back loud enough.

By the time Desert Hearts starts, she's giddy. She knows only what the newspaper told her: that it's about a soon-to-be-divorced college professor meeting a lesbian country girl in Reno in the 50s, and that it includes a 'climactic lovemaking scene'. Both facts have her squirming with excitement, her seat squeaking beneath her.

The lights go out and the movie starts. It's slow-paced and atmospheric, using the Nevada scenery to its advantage. Parts of it are actually really slow, but she doesn't mind, especially not as it builds and builds toward Vivian ultimately accepting her attraction to Cay.

Steve is with her from beginning to end, scoffing at the antagonistic stepmother, squeezing her hand when the lovers are separated, and squeezing some more when they're reunited. When they reach the intimate scene, he gasps loudly. Then both of them succumb to a giggle fit and must stifle themselves lest they be thrown out. The newspaper was right – it is pretty hot stuff.

There's no dramatic declaration of love at the end, no the ending is as slow and quiet as the rest of it. Still, it hits hard. A sledgehammer to the chest, shattering her ribs and smearing her heart all over. Because these women look each other in the eyes and say 'I love you'. They say 'I want you'. They say 'she just reached in and put a string of lights around my heart', and they say it like it's normal. Which, Robin knows it is. But her world is small and their world is the silver screen and they say it like it's normal.

Steve turns to her when the credits roll and the lights come back on, saying it was good. But when she looks at him, his face falls. Arms wrapping around her, he pulls her into his lap and guides her face into the crook of his neck. Fingers cramping where they clutch his shirt, she buries herself deep and cries, cries, cries. She thinks she hears someone ask if she's okay, but Steve shoos them off, so it doesn't matter.

He walks her home in comfortable silence. As they stop outside her building he tucks her hair behind her ear and offers to stay with her. But she tells him no – he has work in the morning, so she'll have to make do without him.

The responsible thing to do after waving him off is go to bed, wake up early for class. Instead, she steers her step to the nearest payphone and punches in a California number. Minutes later she's got Vickie on the line, wondering if she's okay and if she's been crying. Robin reassures her, then recounts the evening. Soon Vickie's bell of a laughter envelops her; they discuss who's the Cay to whose Vivian until Robin runs out of coins.

Next week, Steve is back and they do it all over again, except this time they eat burgers. They even snatch the same seats they had the previous screening.

Parting Glances follows a gay couple for 24 hours of their daily life. Because they're established, their intimate scene happens much earlier. Steve's muttering about how unfair it is that it's less explicit than the lesbian scene has pride burn in her chest, even as she shushes him.

All in all, it's a really good film. It doesn't hit her as hard since it's about gay men and no lesbians, but it still hits. Again, because it's presented as something normal. They're people in love, and they have jobs and problems and dreams and friends. The hardest hit of them all is Nick, who has AIDS but not in a pitiful way. He's a rockstar with a sense of humor, still cool and charismatic. Sexy, even, thanks to the oozing confidence and the intensity of his gaze.

Steve is quietly contemplative on the way out. She slips her hand into his and lets him think. It's first when they're halfway home that she breaks the silence. Spinning so she's walking backward in front of him, him holding her waist to steer her away from lampposts and curbs, she asks:

"Did you like it?"

"I did. But it left me a little sad." He shrugs. "I just hope Nick survives and gets back together with Michael."

She chews the inside of her cheek. "I don't know if… I mean, AIDS is-"

"I know, Robbie, I'm keeping myself up to date. Or I try. It's just… It's very…" Steve sighs, shaking his head. "You know."

And she does know. The fear of being targeted and the frustration of being helpless. The fury of knowing diseases are supposed to be cured, until the ones affected are people who aren't supposed to exist in the first place.

Steve says, "I think he'll be okay. Nick."

"Yeah," she says, a little choked up.

"And he and Michael will be happy."

"Yes."

"And Cay will stay on the train, or Vivian will return to Nevada, and they'll be together. For real."

"They will. And even if they don't," she reaches up to cup his cheeks, caressing his stubbled jawline, "they'll have someone else. Someone just as good. Or better."

His gaze on her is heavy and bright, boring through, seeing inside. He nods.

"Or better," he says.

With that, he grabs and swings her around (in a pretty impressive move, not that she'll admit it to him) until she's latched onto his back. Then he carries her home.

It's maybe 50 degrees out, so not freezing but enough to leave you shivering if your jacket is old and getting threadbare, like Robin's. She's not cold, though, because Steve always runs hot. His back is firm and his grip on her thighs is secure; she burrows into him, absorbing his warmth and familiar scent. Lulled, not to sleep per se, but to rest by his even strides, she dreams of all the beautiful things she wants to have, and even more vividly of the things she wants to keep.

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

People Like Us was a real newspaper. You can find the issues that helped inspire this fic here.

(Oh, and you should really watch both those films if you haven't already.)

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stobin #platonic stobin #robin buckley #steve harrington #just taking a short break from november paramedic to finish this #my writing

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lovely-lee · 10 days ago

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LOCATION LOCATION LOCATION

I love stories where there is a journey MOSTLY because of how many settings can be crammed into it. A brand new setting for every leg of the journey, a new place to be introduced and have key moments take place..I can think off the top of my head some of my favorite books that have this including Lord of the Rings, The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane, The Candymakers and the Great Chocolate Chase (PLEASE if anyone has read this LET ME KNOW).

Adding to that list is the fanfic I've been reading along to since the beginning of this year, There Are Monsters Nearby by @uhohbestie. The original summary had the blurb “Desert Duo road-trip” in there somewhere and that little line drew me in so so fast. And the zombies, of course, as well. Very quickly I found myself the “Location Guy” of sorts. And before the epilogue of this fantastic fic, I have chosen my TEN top locations from Texas to Canada! I picked these locations mostly through just my own liking of them, but there's definitely key features that make it a favorite to me including plot importance, the overall atmosphere of the place, and just my own experiences as well. Also I’ll be looking back at my comments from the selected chapters to see what my thoughts were from back then, if I had anything to say about it then. So without further ado, we’re starting off with Number 10! (Also general warning for spoilers)

Number 10 – Chapter 17: The Grocery Store

“It’s a grocery store, albeit a small one, with a large sign above its door boasting an in-store butcher and fresh local produce. Even from a distance Grian can see that some of the plate glass windows that make up the front of the building are smashed, displays that had been stacked against them pushed out onto the parking lot, creating a mess of dented cans and broken bottles.

He hopes that means whatever had besieged the place has already moved on, leaving it empty and safe enough to loot.”

Ohh the battle of deciding which place would even make it on to the list was so intense. Choosing this location actually surprised me since it wasn't even on my rough list of my favorite locations. But it made it to the top ten for many reasons! This is defiantly as VERY important plot heavy location and it’s markedly special as its set in the first chapter where Grian and Scar are away from each other for a significant period of time. Grian is there with just Quackity which elevates the tense atmosphere so much already from being in a larger town with many zombies.

I think to me it’s just also such a zombie apocalypse location in general. A place of familiarity and sustenance now twisted with rotting food, broken glass, corpses, and zombies in hidden places. Also the Butcher Army references were REALLY cool. I think my past self just puts it all together very succinctly: “Grocery store….so scary….”

Number 9 – Chapter 20: The Hot Springs

“They follow the signs directing them where to go, taking an exit off the highway onto what rapidly becomes a rutted dirt road. The hot springs themselves are about six miles off the interstate—not all that far when they have the scooter to take them there. It’s a weekend destination, rustic and clearly mostly frequented by locals, but the location is beautiful, centred in a large open valley basin, hemmed on one side by a row of hills tinted jade in the haze of the distance, with an impressive view of a large, shallow lake spread out magnificently before them.

At a first glance it seems both secluded and empty. There are several small cabins set up where the dirt road ends, arranged around a single large central building with a low, sloped aluminum roof that Grian assumes must be where the hot springs are located.”

I’ve always wanted to go to a hot springs but all the ones near me have brain eating amoeba SAD. Anyways this whole chapter was SUCH a great vibe in terms of the locations. I honestly was struggling with either picking the hot springs or the house they get all the winter clothes from earlier in the chapter. Ultimately I picked the hot springs but it was close! Pour one out for Scar and his broad shoulders or whatever.

ANYWAYS. Hot springs. Making it to Oregon. Quoting my past self, “OMG hot springs how lovely..the whole place seems so quaint and nice..ough hot springs time”. Yeah. I think it’s funny this is the second place they had no plans of going to and Scar was like we have to go there. Thank you Scar for making this road trip an actual honest to god road trip. Honestly this chapter is funny to me. The two of the have miraculously gotten back to their tentative peace with each other after leaving Karlnapity and things are like kinda nice? We were settling in for another weird intimacy chapter but BOOM this is actually where they finally talk to each other about the same song and dance they keep on doing again and again. WONDERFUL location for it like it just heightens it so much with this backdrop of comfort and warmth they have found themselves in, that Grian let Scar take them too but it’s all for naught. And then booked with the next chapter? It’s a fun time all around.

Number 8 – Chapter 32 & 33: The Enormous Lakeside Cabin

“A single house.

Alone and enormous on the waterfront.

It’s clear that there’s no town associated with it—no formal community whatsoever. At the shoreline it has a pier, the dock protruding out into the water, but it’s difficult to make out any other details at a distance. It feels safe to assume that it’s a vacation property, though. No doubt for a rich family. Meant for hot summers, canoe trips, fishing, and cookouts.”

Thinking back on this location makes me realize just how nice these two chapters were. The time to feel safe and comfortable and just be happy with each other. The cabin and the surrounding area seem so mysterious to me. I remember they didn’t find much about who lived here since it seemed it was just used in the warmer seasons. Kinda spooky in its own way! Everything about this place though just felt like a respite, a beautiful oasis after being in this hellscape for so long already. It really was just a place to rest and no added scares or surprises. Also it had a generator which I mention in my past comment, “Finding such a big beautiful mansion cabin was so awesome, and a generator!!! I love generators they’re so cool.” Man I miss having a generator.

Number 7 – Chapter 16: The Hill in the Desert

“Together, they carefully pick their way down the bank, the dry earth cracked and dusty beneath their feet, walking in the direction that leads them away from the highway and towards a natural curve of the waterway that, over decades, had piled up silt at its bend, creating a hillock with a base of wind-worn sandstone that looms over them in the gathering dusk.

It’s picturesque but barren, though Grian supposes it’s as good a place to stop as any.

��Doesn’t it look like it should have a tower on it?” he asks, shielding his eyes as he peers up at the hill’s peak. The rise is the tallest thing around for miles, glowing red-gold in the light of the swiftly setting sun.”

There’s a bit more to this quote that I didn't add cause it was just getting too long, but soon after this part, Grian climb up the hill and imagines what this desert tower might look like. He then peers over one of the edges of the hill where it’s more of a straight drop than the slope he climbed. He then gets “an odd, weightless feeling settles in his stomach—indescribable, like deja vu.

Unprompted, he looks down and wonders if a fall from this height would kill him.” SO spooky god. Having this moment and more showing how the life series and hermitcraft are like past lives is just a really cool detail. Usually these moments are more feelings of familiarity or sometimes even dreams or similar kind of places from the life series, but having like a more physical exact callback of a location is ten times eerier. Especially that here only Grian is really pulled towards the hill. Scar doesn’t really hold too much interested from what we see? Maybe internally he was thinking something else, but Grian is the one who climb up the hill, images the tower he built, and peers over where he last stood in another life.

The timing of them finding it with Karlnapity is interesting to me. They’ve been in the desert for a while now but stumbling upon it with the other three and making this a moment of isolation for Grian even. It just makes it more creepy to me and a location to ruminate over. Anyways here’s past me’s comment, “Erm tower on a hill? A CASTLE? In a DESERT? Looks around nervously. HIM LOOKIG OVER THE EDGE.. ^_^ I love desert duo <3”. This is true I love desert duo.

Number 6 – Chapter 23: The Model Home

“Eventually they pass a billboard advertising a residential neighbourhood—construction dates and parcels of land remaining for sale splashed on top of pictures of a park with an idyllic mountain background, the kind of place families with young children would go to picnic and play catch. The area beyond it is cleared of all greenery, the earth pressed flat by the tire treads of backhoes and dump trucks, the skeleton shape of houses framed in plywood and two-by-fours looming up in the darkness.

Finally, Pops begins to relax, going so far as to pull a flashlight out of his bag and using it to light their way. They follow new roads with wide sidewalks, but only a single completed building stands out to greet them: a model home built with a sod lawn, a sign set at the end of the driveway offering open houses on alternating weekends.”

Jumping right into my past comment which puts everything I feel about this location very nicely, “Ough and yes the model home. I LOVE model homes cause I love looking around people’s houses and this is like the next best thing AND they feel kinda creepy as a bonus and that’s so true here. Empty neighborhood partially built and no one will ever live here now..” My family and I when I was younger used to go to model homes as a fun free activity to do like on weekends. I remember those times very fondly so yeah this model home defiantly stood out to me. But yeah this place is just SO creepy with the lone model home that never had anyone live in it, in a plot of land no other homes were ever built. Here being where Scar and Pops had a huge shootout of a zombie swarm walking by in the cold is just so unnerving too. I just like this place a lot.

Number 5 – Chapter 28: The Tiny Cabin at the Empty Campsite

“It’s an eerie feeling, walking along the road that winds through the location, imagining the place full of campers; pitched tents and vans, pickups towing trailers of ATVs with kayaks and mountain bikes thrown in the back. The place had no doubt closed for winter before the outbreak spread itself across the continent, but Scar can’t shake a profound sense of loss as they move through it, noting the lingering signs of human activity nearly everywhere he looks. Initials and dates carved into picnic tables, black coals and ashes left in fire pits, and small pillars of smooth river rocks arranged in cairn-like clusters along the shoreline.”

“Pops, on the other hand, seems to share none of Scar’s melancholy, ignoring the empty campsites completely as he leads Scar straight to a cedar plank structure near the centre of the campground. It’s a shed really, a seasonal residence meant for the forest ranger in charge of overseeing and maintaining the site. It’s boarded up but Pops makes quick work of it, stripping back the winterization of tarps and plywood in order to pry the door open, revealing a single room inside, large enough for a small desk, a wood stove, some shelves, and a cot.”

I’ve been camping a good couple of times, in tents and in cabins, and so seeing this campsite really remained me of the places I’ve been camping to. And Scar having that same kind of line of thinking of a guy that also had camped a lot with his friends is just an interesting feeling. Of going to a place so similar to one you have experienced many times but being fundamentally changed and different now. It being empty and going to be empty for who knows how long...It’s also just such a beautiful places described, deep in this forest and alongside the river. This is another place that has no real scares or surprises of zombies or anything, so it just being spooky from its emptiness is nice in its own way.

I love the little tiny cabin too so much. Just imagining the ranger that lived in this barely bigger than a shed place, with only is few furnishings but still being a comfort to Pops and Scar now, a place to rest and be out of the cold. I just really loved this place, and them leaving their initials behind just makes it more special as well. Also this is the chapter where I got the idea of doing this list which is fun.

Number 4 – Chapter 15: The Rancher Motel

“They approach the motel with caution, keeping quiet as they creep in close. It, like everything else, looks old. Vintage way that catches Scar’s attention. The large neon sign set next to the entrance to the parking lot reads The Rancher Motel, the mismatched letters on the marquee beneath it boasting: POOL, LAUNDRY, WIFI.”

Big part of course of the Rancher Motel making it so high up on the list is because of the Jimmy and Tango backstory CRYING. Like reading this whole chapter again makes everything just...shadowed under the tragedy of what could have been, and the story that this empty abandoned building tells. That every location that once was had people living, working there tell. This is also another place where we see the Grian’s and Scar’s physical intimacy with each other stagger and lurch around for its footing. With added bonus of SCAR initiating it. That’s another story though, I love this location for it being a weird and more than likely kinda dirty motel like the hundreds I’ve been to while on road trips. Nothing like an old and dirty motel!

Number 3 – Chapter 21: The Last Gas Station and The Surrounding Forest

“The gas station itself is small but looks reasonably well kept, positioned on the edge of a large concrete pad that Grian assumes must have been used by truckers who needed a place to rest for the night. A dinged marquee sign left out by the road advertises live bait by the bucket and nearby trail rides for both beginners and experts.”

Getting into the top three...This gas station is still so diabolical to me. I think one of my favorite themes from TAMN that comes up again and again is to not get too comfortable, too compliant about the dangers you know are there but are just so easy to forget. It’s frustrating because I forgot here too!!!They didn’t check the area if it was safe, if there were no zombies around. The gas stations had slowly became a symbol of rest, of stocking up and maybe even resting overnight in shifts. It became familiar and common place as they used to be, which I think made it even easier to forget the dangers. Especially coming down from the high escaping the mall with the wheelchair was. I think about how lucky the two of them have been for so long. So so many places that they were oblivious of how much danger they were in, but they always made it out alive. I think it speaks for the fic that realistically that luck had to run out somewhere if they solely relied on it. And it just all culminates into the physically manifestation of not being careful.

And then getting into the forest,

“He hopes that when he dies from this, he’s left out here alone forever, and he hopes that when he turns, he’s granted the dignity of wandering off into the woods never to be seen again.”

This is just one of my absolutely favorite lines of the whole fic. I really love this chapter.

Number 2 – Chapter 7 & 8: The Storage Unit

“Ultimately, the storage unit doesn’t have much for them to benefit from. When they finally get in, abandoning their attempt to force the lock and simply smashing a window, they find the front office empty and useless. The reception desk has nothing of interest on it, just a computer from the early 2000s and a phone without a dial tone when they lift it off its cradle.

Scar finds the staff room while Grian goes through the shallow drawers of the reception desk. The door opens into a small space with a thin slit of a window high up on one wall. There’s a sink and a sliver of counter, which is promising. There’s also an old fridge covered in takeout menus and hand-written betting pools for every sport imaginable in one corner, and a table with four plastic-backed chairs in the other. There’s no couch to crash on, but there is a door marked as a washroom”

Similar vein to the previous location, of an earlier time of getting too comfortable. This one was especially scary and frustration since I never expected a zombie to shove its way through a broken window!! That’s so scary, but also of course them going to bed with their supplies scattered and without sleeping in shifts. The whole storage unit also reminds me of all the ones I have ever driven by.

My family did use one for a time but I actually never went to it. Dropping my comment in here, “ohh a storage unit is another really great setting, it’s like such a weird kinda place in general” and yeah they really are. This place especially brings a lot of what I’ve talked about into one place. This being a place where people worked and just existed, seeing it in every little thing the two come across. It being another place where the two try and come together again and again, with Grian grasping for more and more and Scar wanting it in his own weird way as well. Which we see so clearly with him kissing Grian after shooting the zombie AUGH. This felt like a big turning point in how they realize the dangers of the world they are now in and how much they both mean to each other. It was just two really exciting chapters with a stellar location.

Number 1 – Chapter 3: The Farmhouse

“The farmhouse is a bad idea, but it’s the only option they have.

From where they sit, parked on the gravel shoulder of a service road that splits off from the highway, they can see the proper entrance to the farm. It lays at the end of a long road that skirts around the edge of several fields. It crosses a culvert and empties into a gravel driveway set between two large silos, a barn on one side and a simple saltbox house with a large garden next to it on the other.”

To me, there was absolutely no contestant for my favorite location. It was always going to be the very first place where I was like Oh. This is not going to be just your run-of-the-mill zombie apocalypse au that also has a cheating plot point as well. This was a story that was thought out on so many details that these locations Grian and Scar were going to felt like real places, taking up space and existing at that point of time. Of course, finding out that Lock and Key often times based these locations on actual places around the route Grian and Scar made so much sense. But it takes that skill and time to write these locations to feel like places that I’ve been to just through reading. And I first really felt that here at the farmhouse. The highway they park at, the fields, the silos, the culvert, the house itself and how it looks inside.

Here too is where we see how well Grian and Scar do actually work together, and where Scar gets his signature jacket. I think what really gives the chapter such an eerie vibe is of course that this is a home, where they even come across the people who used to live there, but already infected...It gives a finality that this has reached everywhere, not just the big city, or places frequented by many people, but even quiet outskirts of secluded homes. I really like my comment from this chapter, so I’ll just end it here with it, “I love every setting they’ve been to so far since leaving the city. The empty gas station and the restaurant on the stretch of empty highway and now super freaky farmhouse property off of the highway ough…”

#AH this was so fun to write im so excited for the last chapter..#hi Lock hi Key your fic is really awesome and great #I don’t know what to tag this..lays on the ground #lee things

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ominous-feychild · 4 months ago

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Can you tell me a little about The Arcane Rifts?

Mislav (the berserker) and Ludmila in particular (their names stood out lol)

Ahhh, the Arcane Rifts, my golden child--

I--I mean--

The story I give an appropriate amount of love and attention to! 🥰 (or so I say because I think the extra attention I give it is deserved because it's the golden child--)

The Arcane Rifts

I've since included the blurb and other information in my Writeblr Intro if you want more generic information! Sorry I've taken so long to respond to this, haha. I'm going to continue forward here assuming you've read it, but I'm probably going to restate a lot of information here anyway!

The Arcane Rifts is a high fantasy, action, mystery story with hints of horror! It primarily follows its two MCs, Gene and Tazin, as they struggle to live on their own as Socially Othered kids.

Gene is physically disabled--he was born with a twisted and too-short leg that makes it difficult for him to walk. In-story, he uses a cane and eventually gets a foot lift that helps level out his walking. Though it doesn't perfectly fit, the best actual medical condition I can find for him is clubfoot!

Adding to his social-othering, Gene is also autistic (though it "doesn't exist" in Glavnran) and originally from another country, though it's unknown which one in-story. He was found in the woods on the outskirts of Kavo (a town within Glavnran) a year prior to the events of the story, and has barely gotten a grasp of the local language in the time before the story starts.

Tazin is the secondary MC and another kid only two years Gene's senior. He's ethnically Jhandan (Fantasy!Indian), and discriminated against by the majority Glavni (primarily white, Fantasy!Slavic) people despite being born and raised in Glavnran.

(Context: Glavnran is under the thumb of the Jhandan Empire and has had a history of both war and exploitation by Jhandar. This has led to the hatred of the Glavni people toward anything Jhandan--however. I do not say this as in to say the discrimination Jhandan people face is fair, understandable, or reasonable--just that it's the origin of the tensions. Tazin is a literal 9-year-old, though, and obviously just gets handed that hatred because of the color of his skin... and a minor accent.)

There's Asks on both Gene and Tazin and you asked about other characters, so I'll hold off on giving more info about them in particular, but!

The Arcane Rifts focuses on the two boys meeting, deciding to work together to survive on the streets, and accidentally getting way in over their heads as they accidentally draw the attention of both the cops and the local gang.

The main plots focus on the children, the khonitva, and Kavo's chief of police--Nikolai--investigating the boys on top of some magical stuff going on in the background.

It's a dense story, but I promise you it's worth it!!! Or, it will be whenever the current version has more than 5 chapters available read...

Mislav Baran

My beautiful babi boy and definitely not Gene's later boyfriend.

So, bad news: while he appears a bit in Book 1, Mislav isn't a main character there. He only becomes a MC in Book 2, after... spoilers! happen! 😙👌 In order to answer your questions, though, I will be giving away mild spoilers! 🥰

First, an introduction: Mislav (the berserker) is, surprise surprise, a berserker! Let me actually grab a snippet straight from tAR for this!

What Damaris didn’t know was that Mislav was a berserker, which meant he was stronger than any normal kid. Especially when he got angry. Being a berserker meant more than getting stronger with anger, though. It boosted all of his physical abilities and his senses. To top it all off, he healed from injuries more quickly. So imagine what it was like when he got angry. Although he’d show off his strength sometimes, Mislav hated that he was a berserker. Not only was it his own curse, gifted to him by Zhrizn—Glavnran’s evil god of nature—after he’d orchestrated the deaths of Mislav's family, but the people of Kavo hated berserkers. They said they were wild, destructive creatures that did nothing but hurt and kill.

Woah, so there's a lot to unpack there, haha. 🤭

But before I do... let me give you the next two lines from Gene('s narration).

Those were the reasons why Gene never told Mislav what he thought of a berserker’s abilities. They made for a perfect weapon of war.

Wait, wtf, a kid thought that??? Aaaaaanyway! We're talking about Mislav, not Gene! 😉🤭

Yeah, a berserker's abilities are perfectly suited for combat and recovering from it. However, at the beginning of the story, Mislav is just nine. Y'know--nine years old. He's not seeing any combat or war!

(Y'know... besides the whole "Adilzhan killed his entire family somewhat in front of him" thing. Oh, wait, right. That.)

So, Adilzhan. He's an avatar of Zhrizn (aka does his bidding), and it was presumably on Zhrizn's orders that he killed Mislav's family.

And then... stopped.

To spare Mislav? What's so special about him? Who knows! Me. I do.

Regardless, after sparing him, Adilzhan half took him in. Yeah. Took him in. After slaughtering his entire family and burning down the farm Mislav grew up on. That certainly won't be causing any sort of weird complexes in the poor kid growing up.

Despite their, ah, rough introduction, Adilzhan has been a shockingly generous "parental" figure to Mislav. Rather than forcing Mislav to live with him, Adilzhan sent him to the local orphanage and gives him anything the orphanage can't. Then, he's even ignored Mislav's uh... well.

Blatant attempts to "get revenge".

To be completely transparent: "berserker"-ness has turned (perhaps unsurprisingly) into an accidental allegory for anger issues--especially in the poor, traumatized Mislav.

So what does a kid with severe anger issues accentuated with a curse that actively tries to make them worse do when their family's murderer is constantly trying to be nice to them? Well, lash out, of course!

For example, by the beginning of book 2 Mislav would/will have:

destroyed a bunch of Adilzhan's stuff... several times.

straight-up ambushed/attacked Adilzhan (though only twice!! And only in the first several months of knowing him!!!... because he quickly learned it wouldn't get him anywhere--)

kicked/headbutted him while Adilzhan tried treating his (Mislav's) injuries

purposely sabotaged Adilzhan in moments of danger/stress, leading to Adilzhan getting injured when he otherwise wouldn't have gotten!

And yet, shockingly, Adilzhan never would've lashed out at the kid. Worst he would've done is put Mislav in the magical equivalent of "time out" while he took care of whatever problems the kid made.

By the beginning of book 2, when Mislav is 15, he's mostly moved past the state of constantly lashing out at Adilzhan. Like, sure--he hates him. Always will! But he's learned that, despite the past... Adilzhan is genuinely looking out for him. And was kinda a halfway decent parental-ish figure?

And, oh boy. Does he hate that. And understandably so!

But he's come to accept it.

Oh, Right, That Was Background Info.

So Book 2 Mislav! While Gene and Tazin were busy being criminals together on the streets, Mislav spent his time being raised halfway between the orphanage and Adilzhan himself. However, like all of the kids in Kavo's orphanage, he got kicked out at the age of thirteen (yeah, it's messed up, but tbh that's just how bad Kavo is).

So did he move in with Adilzhan at long last?

Hell no!

Mislav joined a gang, the yuertel!

Wait, what???

Yeah! Don't worry about it, it's all good. Anyway!

One thing I didn't mention earlier about the "berserker curse" is that it does more than just enhance the individual's physical capabilities and senses--it also will slowly corrupt their physical appearance as they tap into its power.

Which... that was another reason that Mislav toned down his anger with Adilzhan. Allowing himself to stew in it made it more and more likely that he'd act on it... and acting on it advanced the curse's control over him. And if you don't remember, the people of Kavo really don't like berserkers.

So, for most of his life (since the deaths of his family), Mislav has been doing his best to bottle up every single negative emotion he feels and avoiding people to keep them from figuring out the Truth. Aaaaand, y'know, self-sacrifice like hell. Because, surely, if bad actions accelerate the curse, then being a good person will de-cellerate it, right?

Yeah. He wishes. Literally.

Ludmila Morozov

So, Ludmila!

She first appears only at the very end of the first book, but Ludmila is actually a super important character to the series! She becomes a major character starting book 2, and is a main character in book 3!

Ludmila is an ice mage--or vykolt as the Glavni people call them--though you wouldn't be able to tell considering her fierce personality, haha. (Well, actually, she's incredibly icy, too, but.)

While Gene and Tazin were busy spending the first book of tAR in the khonitva and getting themselves on Kavo's Most Wanted list, Ludmila spent her time in Damaris's orphanage, getting evicted as she turned "of age", and joining/becoming the leader of the yuertel!

Oh, yeah, so the yuertel...

Ludmila didn't start the gang, and in fact got an actual job assisting the lumberjacks (and -jills) after first being kicked out of the orphanage. She only quit after an incident disillusioned her from Kavo's police- and work-force at large. Afterward, she was informed of the yuertel's existence by her childhood friend--Rada--and joined them when she couldn't find another job she was okay with working.

When she first joined, the yuertel was a ragtag bunch of kids with no idea what they were doing. After she joined--... well, they were still a ragtag bunch of kids with no idea what they were doing! But their previous leader saw her compassion for the others and stepped down to let her lead instead. Y'know, with his guidance, considering he was just a little better with people than her, but she was around a lot more than him and could do more for them than he could.

The yuertel isn't what you'd first think of when the word "gang" comes to mind. While they get up to criminal activity, they minimize collateral damage when and where they can, because hurting others isn't Ludmila's goal. They just need to do what they do to survive--malice and wanton destruction was the khonitva's thing, not hers. Though if a stray icicle hit Nikolai or a member of the khonitva over the head, she wouldn't complain.

While Ludmila wants the world to be a better place, all she sees is more ways to make it worse... or to work for those she feels sit idly by, allowing for things to get worse while sitting on their hands. So, instead, she carved out her own corner where she takes care of the people she cares about while nobody else pays them any mind.

Point is, she's a bit of a hypocrite.

Kavo--and, in fact, Glavnran in general--is a terrible place. It's full of crime, discrimination, ableism, and so many -phobias that it's ridiculous. She realized there was nothing she could do about it, so she sought to help her friends float by if nothing else. But she's a little ignorant of the fact she's guilty of the very same thing she hates in Nikolai and the rest of the police force.

Complacency.

At least... she is before book 3. But that's spoiler territory. 😉

A little more background info: Ludmila got sent to the orphanage after the murder of her mother. (Which, I so want to write a short story where Nikolai and Adilzhan investigate the murder buddy-cop style, Nikolai hating and suspecting Adilzhan of it all the while...)

Her mother, Tosha, was a fellow vykolt and actually was an avatar of Ertzat, the Glavni psychopomp god of ice, winter, death, and other associated things! They were distantly related to Gennadi (the un-elected mayor), and that combined with her priestess status meant the two were decently well-off before Tosha's death. Ludmila was close childhood friends with Rada even before then, and their parents' deaths occurring at approximately the same time led to them ending up at the orphanage together.

Idk what else I can say about her without getting into spoilers, haha...

I love Ludmila! Despite her hypocrisy, I'd say she's genuinely a good person stuck in a miserable circumstance like a lot of my characters tbh. She's a massive "sister friend" angsty type, and absolutely CANNOT get along with Tazin after the duo joins because of them both being stubborn af, haha. They're two bulls locking horns!

(And, beautifully, are a fire/ice rivalry, haha.)

I've seriously had this half-done in my drafts since publishing my Writeblr intro... I'm incredibly disappointed in myself.

Tag list: @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet @illarian-rambling @ashirisu @urnumber1star

@the-letterbox-archives

Divider from @cafekitsune

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unmaskthewriter · 1 year ago

Text

Scars {John Marston x GN!Reader}

Summary: Unable to sleep, you begin to examine John’s scarred body.

A/N: a very short little blurb I wanted to write.

Warnings: bad memories, scars from violence, mentions of character death

Word Count: 500+

You lay in the large bed, the covers barely draped over your naked form. John lay beside you, fast asleep, his arm lazily draped along your bare hips. His breathing was calm, and steady.

The fireplace has long burned out, leaving a soft chill in the room. Through the drapes, the moonlight leaked into the room. Carefully, you turn to face John’s sleeping form. Your gaze travels his skin as your gentle fingers come to touch his bare chest, tracing over various scars and old bullet wounds now healed. Sometimes, he’d tell you the origin of a few of the scars. Having been a member of the gang for some time prior to its dissolution, you were aware of his marred cheek from the wolf attack in the Grizzlies, and the bullet wound in his upper arm from the last train robbery. Your fingers traced the different dips and grooves of each scar, almost admiring the story it would tell.

“What’re doing…?” John mumbled sleepily beside you, his eyes still closed. You didn’t mean to wake him due to your own insomnia, having since decided to distract yourself with his scars and what some would call imperfections.

“… ‘m sorry… couldn’t sleep.” You speak softly, your hand traveling upwards, past his neck to brush some loose strands of hair from his face. All of his scars, those memories — you wouldn’t be where you were without them. Sometimes, you wonder if the others were okay, even if they had gone against Arthur, John and yourself in the end. All those who died before the end came, perhaps they were the lucky ones.

Mac.

Davey.

Kieran.

Sean.

Hosea.

Lenny.

Molly.

Susan.

Arthur.

If it weren’t for Arthur and his sacrifice, you and John would have been caught by the Pinkertons, or killed.

It’s near impossible to forget the weeks and months following yours and John’s escape from Dutch van der Linde and the Pinkertons. That consistent fear of being figured out, and turned in, or somehow always feeling out of place even in towns you resided in or near before the gang’s fallout. The arm draped over your waist pulls you in closer as John buries his face in your neck.

“Coulda told me… stayed up with you.” He responded tiredly, still half asleep. His hot breath meets your neck and you shudder.

“Wasn’t worth waking you up over, love.” You whisper back. John worked hard to create a life for the both of you, a life that didn’t include gunslinging and robberies. Those days were long gone. Lazily, John places a kiss on your shoulder. As his chapped lips meet your soft skin, all worries melt away.

You try to imagine a future without John; a future where the left side of the bed is empty, and cold… a future where you are alone, barely surviving. You silently prayed the day would never come.

“I love you, John… I really do.” You speak softly, only to be met with snores. Smiling softly, you press a kiss to his temple and close your eyes, welcoming John’s warmth and comfort as you slowly fall back into dreams.

#red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 #john marston #rdr2 spoilers #angst #fluff #red dead redemption #john marston x reader #red dead fanfic #rdr2 fanfic

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rhaegang · 5 months ago

Note

So, this is going anonymous because I'm a pussy. But I have a very huge size difference kink, I don't know, I love it, and Cattonquick makes it even worse, but something I haven't seen much in fics is exploring Oliver with a size kink. AUHGGG IT'S JUST, Félix is a giant, Oliver looks so tiny next to him, just his hands are huge, now imagine the size of his cock. Idk, it bothers me to think about that and not see people doing something with it

Sorry, I'm cringe

I do think this features in most cattonquick stories. Their size difference is such a main aspect of the pairing!

But as far as it being like, THE central focus of a fic or a scene in one, I don’t know of many. So…

It’s fun to imagine what Oliver is daydreaming about all those times he’s staring at Felix. Longing for Felix. Thinking of Felix (forever thinking of Felix).

So let’s imagine, Oliver is staring at Felix. He’s inching up every last inch of Felix with his eyes. And there are so many. His arms and legs go for miles. His chest and back are broad, even if he’s a bit bony and slim. His neck is long. His fingers are too. His hands — on the fretboard of the guitar, or holding a plastic cup and a beer bottle together in just one hand, or resting on Oliver’s knee and completely covering it — damn. Felix has such big hands.

Oliver absolutely would think about Felix’s hands and consider, okay. Proportionately, that means his cock has to be…

He takes the bus to Reading, which has the closest adult shop outside of Oxford. He has, folded in his pocket, an outline he made of Felix’s hand on a piece of notebook paper by tracing it while Felix slept.

He becomes someone new when he goes into the shop, someone who has no shame, someone who does shit like this all the time. Oliver becomes this someone because that’s the only way he’s going to get what he wants.

He asks one of the shop clerks, “what have you got that’s big enough this hand would barely fit around it?”

The clerk doesn’t give a fuck that it’s a strange question. She’s heard far stranger. And since this guy looks harmless (he’s barely bigger than herself, which, aw) she plays along.

“Did you want something that takes batteries, darling?”

She opens boxes for Oliver so he can feel each one. The weight, the length, the almost anxiety-inducing girth of some of them. The one he chooses is as realistic looking as the come. In fact, it’s apparently molded from a real man’s cock; the little racy blurb on the back of the box has a few sentences about him, including his height and how much he bench presses.

The front of the box doesn’t have sentences. It’s just one word: goliath.

It costs a fortune, wiping out Oliver’s pocket money so he’s actually as broke as he’s been pretending to be, at least for the next two weeks.

Oliver is half hard in his trousers the entire bus ride back to Oxford, clutching his backpack with its passenger on his lap to hide it.

The curtains get closed, the door locked; and fuck it, Oliver sticks his chair under the doorknob for good measure, too. He can’t take any chances. He needs to focus.

There’s a few less than sexy steps between barricading the door and when Oliver finally hovers over the massive silicone cock he’s got stuck to the centuries-old hardwood floor, but they’re done and now he’s here.

He’s here, and he’s going to fit this massive thing inside him (and imagine that it’s bloodwarm, imagine that it’s pulsing, imagine that it’s Felix that he’s straddling because if they did missionary, Felix might crush him—) even if it fucking kills him.

It winds up taking Oliver a lot more work to take the whole thing than he expected. It’s hours later, and he’s sore and swollen and overstimulated, but he gets there in the end. His thighs burn from all the careful squatting and shifting, and when he finally can get down near the base of it, his legs give. It drops him a bit harder down onto Felix, rams Felix’s dick up into his guts in a way that makes him hiccup.

“So big.” It’s a whimper. “God, Felix.”

His hole feels so stretched he worries it’ll never go back to normal. But then, for Felix, Oliver doesn’t care if he has to be broken. He doesn’t care if he’ll feel loose to anyone else, anyone smaller. Oliver knows anyone less than Felix would never satisfy him in any way, so, no. He doesn’t care if he becomes a sloppy, fucked out, loose-holed little slut from how much Felix uses him.

Curious, Oliver presses his fingers against his belly until he thinks he can feel the head. There. He looks down. He flails an arm for his backpack, drags it closer with desperate fingers because he can’t shuffle closer to it to grab the strap properly. He’s fucking impaled where he sits, Felix filling him up and nailing him down.

He uncaps a permanent marker and draws a line on his stomach where the head must be. Permanent marker isn’t permanent enough though. It’ll wash eventually. Maybe he’ll have it tattooed, he thinks.

Yeah. He’ll get a line branded in ink on his skin, a straight line with a few hashmarks, sort of like on a ruler. But more like an F.

He wants to see it every time he looks down at himself. He wants to look at it and think, look how far inside me Felix goes. Look how much of me he fills up.

Felix fills all of Oliver, really. All of his thoughts. All of his dreams. All of his heart. It’s only fitting that he’d be big enough to fill Oliver’s body beyond reason, beyond comfort, the same way he fills up the rest of him.

And when the day comes that Oliver can do this for real, can get Felix’s fucking massive hands holding him down while he fills him up, Oliver will be ready. He won’t have to pant and struggle and bleed and curse, because his body will have already made room for every fucking inch of the man, will have reformed to hold him perfectly, cling to him like a fitted glove.

For now, Oliver can barely rock himself on Felix, just a little careful rolling of his hips, but even that pulverizes his prostate and leaves his cock dribbling precum in semi-clear, stretchy drips. He folds over, bracing himself on his elbows, and works his hips until he’s close to bouncing, until he punches his own orgasm out of himself with Felix buried as far as he can go.

Oliver passes out like that, his puffy hole twitching around Felix like it would pull him in deeper, were there more of him to take.

Which — Oliver hasn’t actually seen Felix’s dick while it’s hard.

What if this goliath isn’t big enough, after all?

#gang asks #rhaegang originals certified fresh

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p-artsypants · 15 days ago

Text

Blurb #59- Halloween Special

I'm going to try to share 70 blurbs from my WIPs and unfinished fics to celebrate reaching 70 posted fics! To help with this endeavor, please feel free to send me a word or a fandom you know I write for, and I'll share the blurb. IDK if I'll get 70 prompts, but let's try it! Send as many as you want!

Astrid had grown up on the isle of Berk. Born and raised on its cursed soil. She knew the best trees for climbing, she knew every name in the five hundred or so people that roamed the village. She swam its waters, explored its caves. She knew not to eat the dark purple berries on the thorny vines, and she knew not to make fire from black wood. She knew it was bad luck to wander into the bonefield, and that only people with a death wish went out at night. She knew that the trade ships that came in refused to stay more than one night on their soil, and that no ‘blood of the island’ was able to leave the isle’s waters.

And she knew not to approach the Pale Rider.

Life on Berk was not really all that different from life on any other island or village. There were a few things to get used to, but all things considered, life was fine.

Almost idyllic.

They had farms, they had a baker, a blacksmith/butcher/dentist, a tailor, and a medicine woman. There was a large field of wildflowers. And the cliffs that overlooked the ocean offered beautiful views.

What was odd was that they didn’t have a mayor, or chief, or any kind of ruler. And the land was cursed. Oh, extremely cursed.

The extent of the curse was not fully known. It had long been set into the island for many generations. The inciting event had wiped out a large amount of the population, that included the witnesses.

Thus the boneyard and the forbidden, crumbling castle on the mountain.

Besides a few stray quirks of the island, the main effect of the curse was that no one born of the descents of the original village was able to leave. The curse feasted upon the life of its inhabitants and leaving the waters a few miles out would find one drained of energy before they perished.

That’s how her father died.

A fisherman, out alone on his vessel, just trying to go out a little farther to look for a better spot. The medicine woman stated that he had succumbed to the curse before he could even turn around. That was of course several days after he hadn’t come back and his ship finally floated back.

So if you weren’t the adventurous or vacationing type, it wasn’t that big of a deal.

Oh right, there was also the Pale Rider.

When she was a child, stories of the Rider would instill fear into the children of the village. He was responsible for the missing livestock, for the trails of blood, and piles of bones. It was only a matter of time before his hunger would turn to those who he cornered in dark alleys at night.

Things changed a few years ago. Whereas the Rider had only ever been talked about, and stood as an urban legend of the town, he was still a mystery. Parents made up what he looked like, how he acted, what he wanted. There was occasionally a sighting. Someone would come ranting and raving in the village square that they saw the rider running across the ocean or some other flight of fancy. Others still swore they heard the whinny of his horse. Although when asked to describe it, they ended up mimicking the sound of a bear or a mountain lion.

But one day, the village Blacksmith/butcher/dentist, an eccentric man named Gobber, gifted with a backbone made of steel, decided he had enough. He called everyone together in the village square and announced, “I have invited the Rider to come to my shop tomorrow, and he accepted.”

Horrified murmurings fell over the crowd.

“You did what?”

“Aye! You heard me! I got tired of the creature snagging my chickens! Pickin’ them off one by one…terrified them out of laying eggs!”

“…so you invited him into the village.”

“Yes!” Gobber exclaimed. “But you’re looking at it all wrong. I invited him to come and run his errands like a normal person, instead of him stealing like a horrible raccoon!”

“He’s no horrible raccoon! He’s worse! He’s a demon!”

“An abomination!”

“The curse that walks!”

“Death incarnate!”

“Now now,” a voice called out among the crowd. This belonged to Dagur, son of the richest man in town, Oswald. As the richest family, the Berserker clan had some power, and opinions. “I’m sure Gobber didn’t mean any harm in inviting…an eldritch monster into our sweet little village.”

“It’s jus’ as much his village as everyone else’s. He’s been here longer than all of us. A little goodwill won’t hurt nobody.”

“You better hope it won’t, old man.” Dagur poked him in the chest. “Or I’ll make sure you suffer.”

Astrid remembered the day the Pale Rider came to town for the first time. She was only 13, still a child. Her father was still alive. That day was sunny with big pillowy clouds. Many folks would claim that he arrived on a gray, rainy day, but that simply wasn’t true. It was sunny, and lovely.

The caws of ravens preceded him. A flock of five swooping in. Then a horn from the watchtower alerted an intruder.

The black shadow appeared at the edge of town, opposite to Gobber’s forge. People screamed and ran inside, while others coward in alleyways, terrified but curious to see what would happen.

Astrid had been pulled into her house by her father, but still peered out the door to watch.

The Pale Rider made his way through town, the clacking of horse hoofs and the calls of the ravens the only thing to show life in the village.

He was not what she was expecting, but much worse. His horse, if you could call it that, was a black beast with leathery wings. It had tusks and fangs and its hooves morphed into talons. Its eyes glowed an acid green and it breathed fire from its nostrils. Its shape was unnatural. The neck looked like it was made of only bone, and its joints were spindly and narrow.

The Rider himself was tall, too tall. His neck was elongated, as were his black and blue fingers. He wore an animal skull mask over his face, but his own violent green eyes still burned through the sockets. He had antlers like an elk, and wore a long, draping black cloak that fell open just enough to reveal his chest.

His heart was on fire inside of him, and the flame illuminated it through the skin, only obscured by the form of his rib cage.

Astrid’s home wasn’t too far from Gobber’s shop, and she slipped out to watch the Rider arrive.

Gobber waited for him, hands on his hips and smiling. “There you are! I wondered if ya’d show. And ah, sorry ‘bout the cold reception! I told the other folks that you were comin’ and well, maybe one day they’ll come around.”

The Rider didn’t respond.

“Right, so come on in…” Gobber beckoned him into the forge.

The Rider ducked his head, entering the forge, horse and all. His antlers scraped against the doorframe.

He stayed for about an hour. Then, just as he came, he left. Silent, slowly, just rode out of town, leaving everyone behind to deal with the aftermath.

That was three years ago. Every day since then, without fail, the Pale Rider would arrive at noon. For the first year, the guard sounded the horn at his approach. But after a while, he went unannounced.

People still halted in the streets and let their conversations go silent. They watched him go, no longer terrified, but cautious.

No one said it, but everyone agreed one day he’d snap and kill them all.

Not Astrid though. She had come to see the Rider as a part of village life. Just as the rooster signifies dawn, so does the Rider declare noon.

Each day, he went to the blacksmith’s shop, taking his horse in with him. Some days he left with a paper package, and some days he left empty handed.

#fanfiction #httyd #hiccup #hiccstrid #how to train your dragon #Currently unnamed fic #kinda like a beauty and the beast au #70 for 70 celebration #astrid hofferson

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riddlebot · 2 years ago

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Welcome Home - Beginner's Guide!

Want to get into Welcome Home but overwhelmed and not sure where to start? This post is for you!!

I've seen a lot of people who are interested but aren't sure where to begin, or even how to begin! Lucky for you, we are currently in the prologue, so it'll be easy to get caught up!

I'm gonna put this under a read more because it's quite a big chunk of text.

For starters, I'm going to post some of Clown's (the creator of WH, @partycoffin) wishes as far as fandom and engaging with content:

No publicly posted NSFW (as of right now) of the characters! Clown has stated they aren't sure how they feel about this just yet, and so have asked people to not do this. Do not sell merchandise or art with WH characters! This is Clown's intellectual property and he is just one person! The only person that should be making money from WH is Clown! Please don't repost people's art, including Clown's! It's really sad this has to be stated at all - everything on the website is free to use and spread around, but don't repost Clown's art from his blog or twitter! Not everything is canon and reposting old art confuses newcomers and is also just rude. Shipping is fine, as is fan works, making OC's for WH, and cosplay! Do not send Clown theories, fanscripts, comics, ect. They are still working on the story and do not want to accidentally use someone else's idea.

CONTENT WARNINGS! This is directly from Clown's website.

Common attributes in Welcome Home that may not be suitable for all audiences are listed below!

Eyes, eye contact, or staring.

Unreality or derealization.

Gore.

Puppets or mannequins.

Exploration of heavy topics, like death, isolation, and mental health.

Auditory unease, such as unpleasant sounds.

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Its also important to note that this is currently the prologue and the story itself will not actually start for quite some time. Also, the only things that are currently canon are things that are found on the website. Any of Clown's concept art or art found not on the website is not canon within the story at this time.

Now, with that out of the way - here is where I would recommend getting started! Like a lot of other current WH fans, watching NightMind's video introducing the ARG is a great start! He also has a second video outlining some of the clues he and his audience found.

The second video isn't a necessary watch as I will be going over all the clues here, but it's there if you want it! (Note, the second video is a stream VOD of his and his stream alerts can be quite jarring and loud so just be warned.)

There is also this google document with an outline of clues, but I'm going to list most of them in this post as well in a more cohesive way.

HARD EVIDENCE - I'll be outlining them page by page, and only listing things that are not speculative evidence.

Intro Page (/welcomehomeyou) - Scroll down to the blurb at the bottom of the page titled Website Updates. In the first paragraph you should notice the letter Y in the word "your" is offset from the rest of the text.

Welcome Home (/whats-welcome-home) - Underneath the black and white drawing of Howdy there are 2 paragraphs of text. In the last sentence of the second paragraph, the W of Wally's name is offset from the rest of the text.

About Us (/about-us) - In the FAQ there are several things of note. - First, in the answer to "How did you begin you research into WH? There is hidden text visible when you highlight over it that reads "But it hurts." Seemingly in response to them being thankful to be the first to start this journey. - There is text laid over (or under?) the answer to "Why did you make this website?" It reads: "When I unwrapped the first letter, I felt it. I heard it. Open. Open. Open. I want it out. I’m going to get it out." At the end of this answer, the apparent restoration team says "It mean it is inside of you too, then," in relation to other people having said they remember the show. There is also more hidden text that seems to follow this, asking: "Does it hurt?" - Further down, after the end of the answer about episode numbers, there is more hidden text that reads: "The numbers are so hard to read. Sometimes I can’t see them."

The Neighborhood (/your-neighborhood) I will be listing every individual's introduction page here despite them all having their own site pages just for simplicity. There are several things to note here as well- starting off with another offset letter. In the blurb at the bottom of the page, the X in expand is offset. - If you click and drag the picture of Home (mobile users can sometimes see this right away, or see it if you zoom in/out on the page) you will see that behind Home is a dark abyss with a spiral in the center of it. In front of Home there is an invisible link, if you click it, you are taken to So Below (/so-below) which shows a gif of Wally on his knees in front of one of Home's windows/eyes, which is shaking rapidly. - Clicking on the you in "you're" directly above Home in the blurb at the top of the page takes you to the secret page, You. (/you) This page resembles the neighborhood introductions pages, but the blurb is blank. There are dancing letters at the top that say You, and a white paint stroke appears and then text slowly types "Wally is your best friend." - Every resident's page says "go back" in colorful letters underneath them, aside from Wally, who has black lettering that says "good bye!" - Every character is presented in past tense in their bios aside from Wally. - Every neighbor's bio mentions them being a puppet aside from Wally, Eddie, and Julie.

News (/welcome-home-news-page) - The letter E in the gif that says News is out of sync with/below the other letters.

Links (/welcome-home-links) - Two things of note: the only gif on this site that is clickable is Barnaby's, and the WH gif that cycles through every character's eyes always pauses for a beat on Wally's.

Guestbook (/our-guestbook) - The guestbook is a beast in itself so I've left it for last because there is a lot to cover. - First: We find out last offset letter in the guestbook, on page 5. There is an entry that reads "I love you ♡" from Silly mc Billy, that has a crayon doodle repeating the words back. The V in love is offset. - On page 8, in 2 of the blank entry places, are hidden text notes. One is from Wally that reads "You're looking for me. Silly. Silly." The other is from W a L L y that reads "You won't write back." - Almost every crayon doodle over the guestbook entries are hidden messages from who we are assuming is Wally. If you open the images in a new tab, the end of the url (aka the name of the pictures) will have a message in response to the entry he's doodled over. I won't outline them all because there are a lot but definitely take a look at them!

SECRET PAGES - The result of finding all the offset letters! There are 720 combinations of the letters but not to worry, there are only a handful of pages to see! The letters are YWXVE.

try again (/yxwvoe) - Leads to a bugged version of the 404 page. Instead of Home, it shows (assumedly) Wally's telephone, and the text reads "Uh Oh! Uh Oh Loooks like you Wandered wandered wandered tooooooooo far away from Home! Head back." The ck of the word back is in a different font. - If you click on the gif of the phone, it leads to the page duet (/singingmp4) - there is a playable file here of Wally singing the song Beautiful Dreamer. After he is done singing, he says that those are all the words he knows as that is all Barnaby taught him. He asks "Do you like it?" Home answers in a series of bangs and Wally replies, "That's good, I think."

answer (/eovwxy) - a video of a static filled television. there is a lot of brown noise here, nothing can be clearly made out though. a pair of eyes flash in the video at one point as well, seeming to be Wally's eyes. they flash on the screen and roll upward.

try again (/wyxoev) - a gif of home with various cropped eyes cycling quickly over where home's eyes are, before freezing on a single pair. The word "OPEN" slowly is spelled under the gif.

try again (/voywex) - The word "Hello." is slowly typed out and a cropped gif of Wally's eyes suddenly appears. The eyes shake rapidly. More text follows, reading, "You’re there. I can't see you. Do you see me?" And then much more rapidly appearing text, "Then stay quiet."

try again (/woxyve) - This page is covered in various images. Multiple cropped images of a script for an episode of Welcome Home. A gif cycling through the resident's eyes, much like the one on the Links page, but each time it gets to Wally it pauses longer and longer - His pupils also dilate more each time and he gets closer and closer. The gif ends on Wally's red background but he is no longer there.

IMAGES - outside of the guestbook, a lot of the images on the website have interesting details of note.

At the bottom of the What's Welcome Home page, there are several images in a gallery. Several of these have interesting details. I do want to say though that several of the images in this gallery come from art Clown did in response to asks, ect. So I am not sure how much of this weirdness can be chalked up to inconsistencies and how much of it is genuine hints or clues. - Image 1: A page out of a magazine or catalog showing off some Welcome Home merchandise. The merchandise in the picture all have lettering, A-C, and the corresponding description of said merch at the bottom of the page. But there is also a letter D in the image next to a blank space, with no description. The D is crossed out. - Image 3 + 4: A We'll Be Right Back screen featuring Frank and Julie cooking. If you mess with the exposure of the B/W version of this image, it reveals faint white text over the "We'll Be Right Back!" that reads "May Your Home Be" - Image 5: At the bottom right, the text along the side of the image reads "Hello you" - Image 12: Wally's Halloween costume is a red devil. - Image 13: Wally creepily looking outside of a pitch black Home, with text that reads "There he is!" - Image 26: The book Wally is reading shows the same scene he and Barnaby are portraying in this image.

About Us has 2 interesting images: - the original version of the Julie and her siblings is covered in paint and very wrinkled, as well as the picture taken of it being very dark. The bottom of the image depicts a human hand in a blue latex glove holding the page. - in the gif of Frank's head spinning, the titles of the books next to him read (from top to bottom) Hello / It’s You Know Who / I'm your neighbor / Do you think about me? You do / I’ve felt you.

If you read this whole post, wowza! I hope you enjoy getting into WH! Despite laying out most of the hints and clues in this post, I still very much recommend going to the site yourself and poking around. There are a lot of little things I didn't cover here as they aren't concrete, so there is still plenty to discover!

Also, if you haven't already, you should go follow Clown, and consider supporting him on ko-fi so he can continue to work on this project, as well as continue their education and hopefully move into a safer home!

#p #this took.... like 3 hours to write....#wh

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