#im keeping their whole past vague right now for another piece of story i can hopefully post up in the future

[capybonara]

Kingdom of the Dead

Today we dive into parts of Zorca culture and history!

Original post that inspired this is found here!

Unlike most zora, the zorca don't have a kingdom or territory to call their own. In the past, families have tried to settle resulting in disastrous consequences involving groups fighting for resources, and struggling to keep families fed. In the end, existing pods agreed it would be better for all to remain on the move.

The downside to their nomadic life is at times food can be scarce. Adults can go for days without eating but it takes a toll on children and pregnant women. A zorca needs nearly three times the nourishment while pregnant, and without enough it can't come to term. Over the years, zorca numbers have dwindled due to a high infant mortality rate or because many women abstained during lean times.

This has resulted in the zorca turning to monsters as a food source, including sea monsters, though the latter is a dangerous task. Monsters can tie a Zorca’s appetite over for a while, but due to a monster's connection to Gannondorf and the Blood Moon, pregnant women have discovered they carry little to no nutritional value so they avoid eating them and children are forbidden outright. (it's basically dubious food!)

Sea monsters can be a bounty but because they're so dangerous, Zorca don't hunt them often unless times are desperate or if the family feels their numbers can win.

Other families have resorted to scavenging to keep their numbers fed. And while it keeps the waters clean of refuse, it's considered taboo in “polite company” and zorca have been labeled as vagrants due to this behavior in some territories. It has also fueled horror stories that they prey on other races.

🐋 Relationships with the Zora

🫧 Hungry and with limited options, zorca families have turned to other zora for help. Envoys/diplomats like Kaska speak on their family's behalf, appealing to other territories for permission to hunt in their waters.

🫧 In return for hunting rites, zorca have offered their services as monster hunters, escorts, warriors, etc. Bards perform for the entertainment of others, and many trade hard-to-acquire items zora wouldn't normally be able to obtain themselves.

🫧 On rare occasions, a zorca or two have ventured inland, but whatever they brought back was never enough for their large families.

🫧 Every adult does their part to keep the family fed, but each year fewer children are born. Some pods have members from other pods who have long died off, leaving them as the last in their line.

❓Where did they come from? ❓

The zorca themselves don't know much about the origins of their birthplace. Was Gannon behind it? Did their ancestors cause their own downfall? Or is it something else?

The only clues to their history are from the songs of their ancestors...

🪕Bards and their role as historians 🪕

Because Zorca are always on the move and spend most of their lives in water they don't have the luxury of keeping records in books or scrolls. So bards have taken on the role of historian and record keepers. Particular songs have been passed down through generations, each telling a piece of the zorca’s history. And whenever possible, new songs are added to the collection, continuing the tradition of preserving their culture.

Songs of the past are already small in number, adding to the mystery of their origins. Matriarchs have charged bards to commit these songs to memory so they may be passed down, and many spend their entire lives studying the lyrics to uncover any meaning their ancestors may have left behind.

Elder bards will theorize and debate constantly with one another over lyrics. So far, the majority agree with certainty their ancestors dealt with a curse, and a lake might possibly be a place of their origin. As for the how, where and why, that remains unanswered.

The alarming question that hangs over the zorca is why are there so few songs from the ancestors. How did previous generations forget them? Did particular generations die off before they could be recorded? These are questions without answers and no clues on where to even start looking.

Experienced bards gladly take on several apprentices, and help them memorize the songs of their ancestors while also teaching them knowledge of the craft. Each young bard is taught the traditional ways of singing and can choose an instrument of their preference. By the time students complete their apprenticeship, they have discovered their own style and are encouraged to write their own songs and record what they see and experience. 

🎶 The Archive of Hymns 🎶

While a bard is free to create what they wish, only certain songs are chosen to become part of the collection. It's a great honor to have a piece be added to the Archive of Hymns. If records of the past cannot be uncovered, then more stories must be added for the sake of future generations.

Not all songs crafted by bards are added to the Archive. They might have their own life expectancy by becoming folk songs! Unlike those recorded in the Archive, a variety of these songs are altered by other musicians and given exaggerated details with each telling, and some may be forgotten over time.

Young bards are never discouraged, however. Not every song needs to be profound. A bard has a job as historian but they also sing to tell stories that evoke emotion in their audiences!

🫧 How does a song earn a place in the Archive?

There are certain stipulations a song must meet to be added to the Archive. While meter is something every bard strives to perfect, it is the lyrics and the emotion they invoke which are the main focus. Songs that tell a story, and solidify a piece of their dying culture are few and far between, and treated like gold.

It was agreed generations ago that all history must be preserved. Even the stories that depict their people in a negative light. Every piece must be studied so it can help the zorca lead future generations on better paths than where they are now. The songs each bard creates are given to the council so they can be judged.

No one is turned away. Save one.

[words-for-holland]

Happier (8) | T.H.

Summary: Tom, Harrison & Harry have a talk about Y/N. Our broken up couple has their first physical conversation with each other. Natalie has a little talk with a certain someone. Does another truth unfold?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

Masterlist

A/N: To the readers, thank you for all the support! More drama to come!

Confrontation

No one likes it, but sometimes it’s needed to get a point across. Another use, to threaten another and instill fear, but we’ll get to that when we cross that bridge.

Harrison and Harry settled Tom down in the kitchen, ready to confront him about everything that’s happened. Tom fidgets with his fingers, unsure of what’s to come. All he knew, was he was furious that they both went to see Y/N, and didnt tell him. “Look”, Tom starts off, clearly impatient waiting on their prepared speech. “I just want to know why you left to see Y/N and didn’t tell me. Why am I being kept in the dark with everything?”

“Becuse you couldn’t figure it out. Even after being baby fed the information.” Harry says abruptly, his arms crossed as he stared down at his brother

Tom scoffs at the response, rolling his eyes. “How can I figure anything out when you all keep it a secret from me?! Mind you that all of this involves MY girlfriend and OUR relationship! And you have the balls to go out to find Y/N in secret and not tell me because I cant figure out a fucking thing in this chaotic fucking mess?!” Tom rants out, eyes and voice filled with anger and jealousy. He wasn’t sure if his yelling was towards the boys or if it was more toward himself, because deep down Tom knew he should have tried harder, but didn’t.

“No. Don’t you dare turn this on us, and make us look like we’re the bad guys.” Harrison snaps as he looks down at his best mate. “Just because you don’t know half the things that are going on, doesn’t mean you can be mad at us. Even when the words are written in stone, you’re still a complete div to not be able to comprehend it.”

“I dont understand.” Tom mutters as he looks at the table, trying his hardest to figure all this out. He had already talked to Natalie days ago about Kate and the pictures, but said she had nothing to do with it. They couldnt possibly mean there was more to the story other than Natalie being a complete piece of work.

“Read the fucking signs, Tom!” Harrison yells out. “I know you talked to Y/N that night about Kate and what did you say?”

Tom looks up at him, realizing what this is about. It wasn’t just about the pictures. It was more than that, something Tom should have realized and reacted to the moment it happened. “I said I was sorry and didn’t know what to say.” He mutters, his face now displaying a sense of guilt. “Fuck!” He whispers.

“Yeah start crying about it now you div!” Harry comments roughly, before continuing his speech. “Kate didn’t just backstab Y/N. She went behind the both of you. She was the spark that ruined your relationship, and you don’t know what to say to that?”

Tom shakes his head, realizing his mistake. For someone that works to display his emotions on screen, he failed miserably when it came to real life situations. It was miscommunication for him, the boys, and Y/N. In his mind, he was more pissed that Y/N was left there to think that he didnt care as much when in actuality he cared a lot. More than anyone would ever know, he cared the most. “No you all don’t understand that wasn’t my intention. Fuck!” He screams in frustration.

“Really and what was your intention then?” Harrison questioned, sarcastically intrigued to know Tom’s excuse.

“She lost her best friend. Fuck, she lost the only other person in her childhood that stood up for her, before this whole bullshit. That right there was more important than our relationship. I know shes the reason I got into this PR mess, the runors exploding, and pushed Y/N away fron me, but Kate betrayed Y/N’s friendship and trust. I didn’t say shit because I didnt want to make it about us. I wanted it to be about her and what she needed.” Tom spilled out, sighing deeply. Silence filled the air, and neither spoke for a minute, sinking in everything that’s happened.

“What she needed was you, Tom.” Harry said as both he and Harrison made their way out the kitchen, not until leaving Tom with a final warning. “We get that Kate maybe the reason she started all of this....but that doesn’t mean it ends with her.”

It left Tom wondering. Again, he had just talked to Natalie about the whole blackmail pictures but said she had nothing to do with it. Then again, she always wanted him to push away from Y/N. A talk he hoped would clear some answers, only left him with more questions. He knew who he had to talk to if he wanted straight answers, and she was going to give them whether she liked it or not.

Y/N had managed to avoid Tom the first week of her return in London. Sadly, it could only be said for that one week, and she had no one to thank, but a sink filled with dirty dishes to wash. Tom made his way into the kitchen by chance to grab sa quck bite to eat when he saw Y/N. It was his chance, he had to take it. It was now or never.

As he walked in, he made eye contact with her to which she responded with a slight smile and a nod. It was silent, nothing but the clashes of dishes and water running. “Do you want some help?” Tom asked with a smile. Might as well make the first move, he was a gentleman after all.

Y/N nodded as she handed him a dish towel, implying for him to dry and stack the dishes away while she washed. They continued this routine for a while, until Tom couldn’t take it anymore. “What happened to us Y/N? We were never like this in person. Hell the phone conversations we had the past weeks are more lively than this.” He confesses as he looks into her eyes.

Y/N shakes her head as she returns to her dishes. “There’s just nothing to say anymore. We’ve said everything we needed to say....Now things are just clockwork.”

“That’s not true. I know you still are keeping things from me. There’s more to this than Kate...” He waits for her to answer, but judging from the hesitation and the look of fear that dwelled in her eyes, his assumption was correct.

“You want to know everything?” Y/N asks as she looks in his eyes.

“Yes. I want to help you. I want us to be back to where we used to be before you left.”

Y/N sniffles as she shakes her head. “We can’t.”

“Why not?” He asks softly, hoping she will open up.

Y/N looks at Tom, taking a deep breath before she decides to tell him. She thought of the possibilities and the consequences that would come about. Kate was gone but it didnt mean Unknown wasn’t still out there. Everything had been so quiet the past few days, it almost seemed like she could breathe without having someone threaten her. Then again maybe her subconcious was right. Maybe it wasn’t a person anymore...Maybe it was just her.

Her mind wandered to Tom, who was staring at her waiting patiently for her story. Opening up her mouth, would be unleashing Pandora’s box and all hell could break loose. Blackmail, shattered dream, shattered relationship, broken trust, it would all come to the surface. The worst part...it wouldnt just stop there. But in this moment, Y/N didnt care. She had kept things bottled up from him for as long as she had. He deserved to know, he was a part of this as much as everyone. Maybe if Y/N kept Tom at bay, it would just be enough to statisfy Unknown and keep things as they were. Safe.

“Before I left...” Y/N starts off, her lower back leaning against the sink, eyes looking down as she lets out a deep sigh. “ There were already rumors of you and Natalie. Speculations that you’d be an item.”

“And you believed that?” Tom interrupts, his eyes rolling, unamused by how the story was starting. “Y/N if you were just jealous. Why didn’t you just say —“

“You think I didn’t know that?” Y/N fires back, scowling her eyes towards Tom, only to receive a knowing look from him that indicated to stop lying to herself. “Whatever. Yeah maybe I was a little when I saw how close you two got and how it just built the rumors. Did I want to tell you? Sure, but that didnt mean I could.”

“Im not following.” Tom comments, his messy eyebrow raised in confusion. “So you wanted to tell me..but couldn’t?”

Y/N nods, taking in another deep breath. “As the days went by, I started getting unknown text messages. At first they started off vague, saying how I didn’t belong with you. Look how much happier you were with Natalie. Did he ever do that with you? Did he ever smile at you like that? I bet he doesn’t love you anymore.”

Y/N’s eyes water as she relived the conversations, small sniffles escaping her nose. Tom was at a loss for words. He couldn’t for the life of him understand why someone would text complete lies to her. He was getting mad by the second as he heard each insulting sentence that came out of her mouth. “Y/N..” he says.

She shook her head as she continued. “But the insults started to become threats. They knew everything about me and was willing to use you as blackmail. If I didn’t breakup with you...they’d make sure you’d never live out your dream again. And for the life of me I wasn’t going to let that happen.” She cried, hiding her sobbing face in hands.

Tom quickly rushes to her, taking away her hands so he could look into her eyes. He held her close, cradled her tiny body into his arms as she tried to slow her breathing. “Then I found out Kate was behind the pictures and the start of the rumors, and now we’re here. I don’t know what to do anymore Tom. Everything’s just been so fucked up.”

“Hey, its okay. Im okay. I’m not gonna let them hurt you like this.” He cooed. “I dont give a fuck if it ruins my career or not. I care about you. You come first, that’s not going to change. But it’s over now, right? Let’s just move on from it. Ill break the PR, I’ll make sure Kate doesn’t walk away from this without serious consequences, I wont keep you a secret if it means it’ll fix everything.”

Y/N pushes away from Tom, reluctantly. She knew how much he cared for her. He was willing to risk everything just to make sure they would be okay, and in a perfect world, maybe that would have been enough. Could live happily ever after and not have to worry about anything anymore. Both could just walk away from it all if they wanted, but this wasn’t a perfect world. “Just because Kate started it, doesn’t mean it’s over. Unknown could still be out there.” She whispers, afraid of anyone listening.

“Then we find out. Together.” He responds, holding her hand. “I let you slip away once. Im not letting it happen again.”

He looked into her eyes, almost silently asking to hug her once more. Two embrace each other, and stay like that for a while. It had been so long since they felt this sort of comfort, which brought up a familiar and warm feeling for each them. So warm, so familiar...they almost didn’t want to let go. Y/N breathed into him, taking in his cologne, the one she had grown to love over the three years. It felt right. It was home.

But not all moments can last forever. Behind the thin walls was Natalie, who had overheard and seen the entire conversation. Hearing Tom, mention how he’d break the PR for Y/N and how he’d do anything, risk everything to find Unknown, rubbed her the wrong way. The way Tom held Y/N close, made Natalie furious, and as soon as she heard her phone ring, she answered. “He knows you exist.”

“A slight hiccup. He’s so caught up in Y/N, he just can’t see the real you.” The voice reassured. “Dont worry, he’ll love you when she’s out of the picture.”

“There is no out of the picture anymore. You should have heard him...He wont let her go this time.” Natalie answers, discouraged more than ever.

“Then we just have to up the antics. Clearly her dim-witted friend ruined the original plan. Thats the last time I ever trust an American do the dirty work. She can start a fire but can’t be beothered to finish a job. ” The voice scoffs. “If the messages don’t work, threaten her in person. Alone. Make sure Tom doesn’t see you.” The voice orders.

“You know it wont work. She’s not as afraid as she was before.” Natalie whispers as she continues to watch them from a distance.

“Then we’ll give her something to be afraid of. Why do you doubt me?” The voice asked, challenging Natalie. “Is this what you wanted?”

Natalie hesitates. Of course she wanted Tom more than anything in the world, but to what point? To what cost? These questions swirled around her mind as she thought back to how Y/N and Tom interacted in the kitchen. Their bond was so strong, they always found a way back to each other. For a moment...she felt almost bad. “Of course I want Tom.” She answers “but.. I want him to love me the way he loves Y/N.”

The voice scoffs at her response.loud enough for Natalie to hear the disgust in her voice. “Haven’t I taught you anything? Love is superficial gets you nowhere in life. You’re lucky enough that we’re settling for Tom.”

“I...I guess.”

“Then you’ll make sure Y/N stays away. Im doing this for you Natalie. Fame, fortune, your career, and your superficial love life. I want what’s best for you.” The voice becomes calmer more gentle, yet the sinisterness was still very present.

“Yes...mother.” Natalie says sourily.

“Darling, how many times have I told you to only refer to me as your publicist? Now go, before someone finds out about this.” The line drops, and Natalie focuses her eyes on Y/N who leaves for her room. Her eyes narrow, and fill with jealously and guilt. Her mother’s words replying her mind. “He will love you...just get rid of the girl.”

Taglist:

@hollanddolanfangirl @ifilosemyselfagain @hevjadams @averyfosterthoughts​ @fangirl-with-a-mission @drishtisikarwar @eridanuswave​ @ifntelyinspirit @trumpettay @astridcommings @parkershoco @racewife2004 @sleepybesson @greatpizzascissorstaco @andievgs @joyleenl @holland-bowen @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @viwihere @marvelobsessedteenager

[for-ests]

Well, even though I’m already getting ready for Xmas, we can’t ignore thanksgiving. How bout a piece on Tom meeting the whole family on this day but it’s a chaotic mess because holidays can just bring out the best or worst in us. Maybe that’s just my family. Anyways, happy writing! 🦃

Thanks for the request babes :-) I hope this is what you had in mind (I vaguely say aunts, siblings, cousins, so the reader is able to imagine however many they have) enjoy!! ❤️

Word count: 2,145

✭♡✭♡✭♡✭

Even though you had been dating Tom for eight months, the two of you had never spent the holidays together. You had met at the most imperfect time, in late February.

Though you didn’t want to admit it, what unfolded tonight at your family’s Thanksgiving dinner would determine how you would continue on with your relationship. Your family was incredibly Important to you, and their opinion on your boyfriend was just as significant.

Despite the pressure that weighed on you and Tom’s shoulders, you were calm and collected. You were almost positive that they were going to love him as much as you had grown to.

Tom though, understandably, was a nervous wreck.

“Ughhh they’re gonna hate me.” He whispered, crossing his arms in a childish manner, mimicking one in a way that was intended to make you laugh. You chuckled loudly from the driver’s seat, trying to not keep your eyes off the road for more than a second.

“I think the fact that you have a British accent is enough to make my family like you.” You teased, reaching across the armrest and setting a comforting hand on his thigh. He relaxed immediately as you continued.

“We’ve talked about my past relationships before. But I’ve brought worse boys home, you being a decent human being is most definitely enough.”

“I know I know.” He mumbled, setting his hand over yours. “I just want it to be more than that. I’m here to prove myself whether you feel like that’s what’s gonna happen.”

“Yeah, totally.” You quipped, a bit flattered that he was so anxious to meet your parents and siblings. A guy had never shown this much interest in you before, yet alone your family.

“I can see you trying not to smile.” He teased.

Breaking into a smile, you shook your head, purposefully turning farther to the opposite side. Tom always did this, and you smiled every single time.

“Shush up and let me focus on the road”

Whatever your boyfriend said next faded into the background, and he soon turned his attention to his cell phone.

It had been months since you’d been to your hometown, and you were anxious to see it again. You were a well known actor like Tom, and that had kept you in many unfamiliar places surrounded by unfamiliar people. Coming back to your roots on such an important family holiday was what you had been waiting for. To see the people you loved again, and to introduce someone special to them.

Though your hometown was smaller, and not entirely significant, you were proud to be from the area. It was lively and decorated, the landscape stretching on for miles with rolling hills and hundreds of trees.

Your house was placed in a tight knit family friendly area. And as you drove closer, the aspects of your beloved neighborhood and town had become distinct, even the familiar layouts of the back roads put a smile on your face.

You breathed a sigh of relief. Nostalgia was a killer, and you were excited to show Tom around the town you held so close to your heart.

“Here we are.” You turned onto the block, and pulled into the driveway.

Tom tucked his phone away and focused his attention on what lay before him. “It’s lovely.” He smiled, pointing to a window on the second floor. “I bet that used to be your room.”

“Correct.” You tried not to giggle like the little girl you used to be. Unbuckling, you leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek.

As you pulled away, Tom was staring intensely. One look at you, and his nerves seemed to fade. You were so happy to bring him back. He loved to see you fulfilled, and loved that he was part of that reason.

Without another word, the two of you gathered your bags and made your way up to the front porch. The smell of holiday scented candles was the first thing you noticed when you opened the door. You could hear the afternoon football game playing from the living room loudly, and the bustling of your mother in the kitchen.

But before you stepped over the threshold into your warmly lit home, you leaned over and purred into Tom’s ear. “If you behave, you’re in for treat tonight.”

Tom snorted, nudging you away. “Shut up, I haffta focus.”

You kissed him again, but this time it was fully on the lips. You winked before screaming, “IM HOME!”

Then it was madness. Your family flooded to the front door, taking your bags so they could embrace you for the first time in months. It felt so good to be back, it was almost as if you had never moved out. Everything was the same, everything was familiar.

Introductions ensued. Cooing from your mother, going on and on about how handsome he was, though you had already shown her pictures. (She had seen all his movies already, but she would never admit that.)

A brooding stare from your father- which soon turned into a firm handshake. Your father didn’t really care who walked through the door, as long as they would watch sports with him. Tom definitely had some homework.

And your younger siblings of course, they had been waiting to meet Spider-Man since the moment you told them you were dating a superhero. They poked and prodded him, asking if he could play with them later and give they battle strategy tips.

It was all coming together, and thank God you arrived over an hour earlier than you had intended, so you could find some peace before the storm. Tom was unprepared for the mayhem that was about to ensue when suburban women had to prepare a Thanksgiving dinner.

Though you weren’t prepared for it, you were grateful. You were happy, watching him smile, his eyes twinkle, the corners of his eyes crinkling when your mother showed genuine interest in his career and experiences.

You were sentimental, wishing you could have spent a portion of your childhood with Tom, something that could have developed into an epic love story, one that stretched across decades. Your families would have already been close, before the fame. But when you thought harder about it, you were satisfied with what you had. You were incredibly smitten with Tom, and by the effort he was putting forth, he was equally smitten with you.

Tom had never been to the suburbs, so this trip was equivalent to a vacation for him. Which you found strange, given the fact that it was the fucking suburbs– but you didnt want to ruin his fun.

And ruined it was, or so that’s what it seemed like as your mother screamed at the top of her lungs for your younger siblings to leave the kitchen. You were by her side, also in an apron, trying to carve the turkey as best as you could while your mother mashed potatoes like she had never mashed them before.

“When are the aunties coming?” You squirmed and ripped another chunk of meat off the turkey bones, tossing them into a glass bowl.

“On their way.” Your mom said breathlessly, finishing the mashed potatoes and focusing on stirring the gravy. She then ordered you to crack open a few cans of cranberry sauce.

“Will we be done in time?” You glanced to the oven that had biscuits baking in it.

“Yes. Your grandmother is bringing doubled eggs and relish plates. Your aunt is bringing…” she trailed off as her attention was turned to the stuffing that had yet to be loaded into a plate. Unfortunately, your mom had fallen behind schedule this year and had to cook everything in the last couple hours. Part of that reason was because she was distracted with your arrival. It was a mess, but it was all coming together. With your help of course.

“Is there anything I can help with, Mrs. L/N?” Tom peaked his head around the corner at the commotion. You knew he had been distracted with a long friendly lecture from your father.

Your mother didn’t seem to hear him, as her train of thought was interrupted by the oven beeping. The biscuits were done.

She breathed a sigh of relief, and turned the oven off. Everything was finally cooked, and still piping hot for all the family to enjoy. Yet your mother still seemed anxious. But that was just how she was, every single year.

“You’re the guest, Tom.” You smiled. “And everything is done.”

He gave you two thumbs up, flashing a cheshire grin. Surprisingly, he seemed over the moon, probably excited for the food that was lying in front of him. It was aromatic, and your stomach started to grumble.

“Can I at least help set up?” He asked, guilt flashing across his face. Tom was one of those people that hated to sit around and watch everyone else take part in activities, even if it was as simple as setting up the dinner table. ‘Let me do something’ He mouthed, practically pleading with his eyes.

Your father made his way into the room, but before he could say anything, your mother piped up, back still turned away from the three of you.

Your mother chuckled. “Oh sweetie, guests don’t help set the table.” She walked past him, picking up the carved turkey and setting it gracefully in the center of the elongated wooden table.

“Guests?” You father chortled, clapping Tom on the back. “He’s practically family now.”

Your father’s eyes met your for a moment, and you were pleased to find his statement was genuine. Your heart fluttered, forever grateful that your parents seemed to approve of him. That was a first.

“Oops!” Your mother laughed. “You’re right, honey.” She walked past Tom and guestered for him to follow. “Grab whatever you’d like and bring it over then.” Normally, she would have made a joke, but you could tell she was tired, and wanted to eat.

Snorting, you shook your head. You knew she was trying extra hard to impress Tom. Like you, she had been waiting for another man in the family to spoil. Nodding towards the biscuits, Tom gained the hint that you wanted him to snatch something else to help set up.

That was the calm before the storm. The hustling and bustling of dishes signaled to your siblings and cousins that it was time to eat. They practically ran into the kitchen, a whirlwind of thank you’s in their paths. Taking advantage of that opportunity, your mother started handing them dishes to set on the table.

And before you and Tom knew it, there was nothing left to place on the table.

Setting the biscuits sheepishly on the edge of the table, and handing a few to your cousins at the kiddie bench, he rounded back to your side.

“I feel worthless.” He whispered in your ear, knowing it was a light-hearted joke.

“It’s fine babe, next time.” You left a light kiss on his cheek.

The two of you started to make your way to the table, unable to ignore the grumbling in your stomachs. You had purposefully told Tom not to eat a single thing before the gigantic meal. You had also advised that it was more than welcomed to take seconds, thirds, and even fourths.

And then, as if on cue, the front door violently swung open, and in hurried your aunts and grandparents. “Oofta, traffic was a killer.” You heard you grandmother’s voice complain loudly from the front entrance. A chilling breeze followed, refreshing in the warmly lit atmosphere.

You turned and saw your grandfather balancing at least four pumpkin pies in his hands. Tom rushes forward to help, and you followed suit.

“OH MY GOSH IT’S Y/N’S BOYFRIEND!” Your rambunctious aunt seemed to yell at the top of her lungs when she spotted the stranger.

Tom’s eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Be prepared for kisses.” You warned, smiling from ear to ear, knowing he had already been warned of their excessive amounts of affection.

It was going to be an incredibly wild night. One that you and Tom would remember for years to come.

[ohwowreallycool]

You Don’t Get the Girl - prt. 2

Part Two - Let me know what y’all think!

STORY SUMMARY: You’re a part of the Avengers now, but not everyone knows your past. That’s okay though, because you don’t know everyone else’s past, either. A relationship forms and he’s your world, but did he take part of your world away?

THIS PART SUMMARY: You’re injured and need to recover. But not all the team is happy that Captain Sir got away - he makes sure that you know.

Read Part One 

You vaguely remember Bucky scooping you up from the ground. The lights on the top of the jet. Being buckled into the seats. Someone screaming “there’s a lot of blood here” A rough, searing pain against your leg. Bumps, so many bumps.

----------

You wake up in an obscenely white room, stretched out on what feels like a piece of cardboard - you quickly realize you’re in the medical bay. Removing the monitor on your finger, you grab the rails lining the side of the bed. Pulling yourself up to sit up straight, you twist to stand,

“Ah, shi-”

“You’re awake!” Bruce turning away form his work to come meet you with a pleasant smile. You try desperately to smile back. “Just go ahead and lay back while we go over some things.”he said, his face now more serious.

“I think I’d rather just stay here, thank you.” your voice rather raspy. When was the last time I got a drink of water? You searched the room, watching all the flashing lights and fast charts, “What the hell happened?”

“Well,” he pushed a few buttons and what not, “there were severe lacerations to your rectus femorus. There was extensive damage to the tissue. Luckily there were no major arteries or veins were hit.” he babbled on.

Meeting his eyes, you raised your eyebrows expecting him to clarify whatever he was talking about. 

“Your thigh got slashed.” You nodded and looked down at your leg, covered in a pearl white sheet. 

Glancing up at him again, you let out a breath before you peel back the edge of the sheet. A large, pink and swollen line stretched across your thigh. The skin around the line dotted with little black stitches.

“I’m sorry,” Bruce’s voice soft and slow, “I did everything I could.”

“No,” trying desperately to laugh, only able to push staggered breath through your teeth, “don’t be sorry.”

“y/n,”

“You didn’t do anything, Bruce.” finally looking at him again and wiping a tear from your cheek that had escaped, “You’ve done nothing but help.” Looking back at your wound; leveling your tone, “How soon can I get back into my room?”

“You don’t have to be strong here.” waiting for you to respond, but you just smiled at him as another tear cascaded down your cheek.

“Well,” he left your side to look at some numbers on a monitor, “your numbers are all good - considering. I think you’d be able to go to your room now if you’d like.”

“Very much.” as you removed the sheet completely now and tried to twist again. A scream stuck in your throat and tears streamed freely.

“No!” he rushed over and grabbed your shoulders, “That’s. . .” he made sure you were steady then began to wring his hands, “There’s one other thing.”

Through restrained sniffles, “What?” Bruce slowly turned his head to look over to the corner of the room. “Oh, hell no.” And he met your eyes again, he held your shoulders tight,

“It’s the only way,”

“But I -” you protested. After a what was not enough time, he simply told you it was stay in the room or do this. He went to the corner and moved the object over to the side of your bed.

“Ready?” moving to help you stand. It hurt, everything hurt - sharp breaths moved the bits of hair that had fallen in front of your face. “It’s okay,”

“Is it?” you met his eyes, and he helped you slide down into the wheelchair.

----------

You adjusted rather well to your “time in the chair” as you so eloquently called it. Doc said that therapy was going well and that if you kept up your rigid 3 times a day schedule, you’d be walking again in no time! The scar tissue was getting harder. Bruce said that was a good thing because it meant it was healing correctly.

----------

“Today’s the day, Doc!” You pushed the wheelchair into his medical room.

“Ah, it is.” he put down his clipboard and walked over to meet you, “How’s it feel?”

“So good!” you smiled and gave you leg a few test-kicks, “In fact it feels better than the other one does.” smiling at him.

“Good.” he shook his head, “You’re still doing therapy for a couple weeks and if there’s any pain I need to know.”

“Sure thang, Doc.” and you turned to walk out.

“One more thing,” Bruce called as you were turning out of the door frame. You held onto the side of the wall and poked your head back into the room,

“Yea?”

“The team would like you to meet them in Conference Room C for a mission de-briefing.”

You stepped into the room fully now, “But I haven’t been on a mission since -”

“That’s all I know,” and you shook your head, spinning on your heels to leave again, “Good luck!”

Why would they want to meet with me about a mission so long ago? And who is “the team,” was that everyone? Actually, I hadn’t seen anyone in the halls recently. But, I mean, it’s not like I’ve been out of my room very often. Well, it will be nice to see everyone again. But still why would they have waited so long to. . .

Arriving at Conference Room C, you walked in and immediately everyone stopped talking. You could have cut the tension in the room with a butter knife. You looked around at everyone on the edge of their seats, Steve standing with his hands planted firmly on the table. 

“So,” you look around the room, “wrong time to walk in or?”

“Please,” Wanda motioned to a seat across from Steve, at the opposite head of the table, “have a seat.”

You forced a smile and small nod before pulling the chair out and sitting down.  

Natasha was the first to break the silence, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m good,” you straightened in your seat, “thanks.”

“We’re here to talk about the last mission we all were on.” Steve said lifting his head and looking at everyone.

“Was the information you collected any good?” you leaned forward interested in the answer.

“Very.” Bucky answered coldly, without even looking in your direction. What the hell did I do to deserve that?

You nodded and Steve began recounting the events of the mission. Basically everything you could remember was exactly what Steve was saying, “We got the intended information, and got our eyes on someone a little higher up the HYDRA food chain.” he looked over at Natasha.

“y/n,” Natasha looking at you, “the man who stabbed you, Captain Sir, he’s -”

“Yea, who was that guy?” you turned in your chair to look around for answers,  “What’s his story?” 

Tony stood and began walking in circles around the table, as per his usual routine, “He’s a heavy hitter for HYDRA. A trainer that, apparently, turns out the best of the best. One of the only men with enough HYDRA info to take the whole place down.” 

“So, did we get him?”

“No,” plain and cold from Bucky, again. You glanced at Bucky, unsure of what the attitude was about, “you let him get away.”

“Unfortunately,” Steve speaking louder than Bucky and still leaned over the table edge and looking around the table, “he got away.”

Bucky let out a huffy laugh and leaned back in his chair, propping his boot agains the edge of the table. Everyone looked at him while Wanda began to talk, 

“We’ll get him next time.”

You turned to look at Bucky again, “I’m sorry, I what?”

He leaned forward and looked you right in the eye and drug out every word, “You. Let. Him. Get. Away”

“Buck,” Steve pleading him to stop.

“What?” standing, his heavy boots landing with a thud, “She had his wrist in her hands, draggin him to the jet and then just let go! If she woulda just focused we coulda had ‘im”

“Excuse me?” you stood to face his giant frame, “I’m pretty sure you were there, too.” taking a step towards him.

He met your step, “If I woulda had his wrists, he’d be downstairs right now.”

“Guys. . .” Steve warned.

“Oh common,” Tony now leaning against a wall, “lets see what they’ve got.” You looked at Tony. This wasn’t a joke. 

“Let me get this straight,” turning to face Bucky again,your head bobbing with every argument you presented, “it’s my fault that none of us” motioning to everyone in the room, “got him?”

“You dropped his wrist.” cocking an eyebrow up.

“Well, I didn’t know,” raising your voice and sarcastically lifting your hands in submission, “that I had to be perfect ever single, damn day like the great Sergeant Barnes. Next time I’ll -”

“Sir,” the ceiling rang out, “you’re requested in the lobby by Ms. Potts.”

Tony pushed off the wall and walked out, “Man, just when it was getting good.”

Immediately you and Sergeant Barns erupted into argument again. The room filled with yelling as you two went at it. Your team mates decided to defend different views and yelling at each other now, too. 

“I’ll be sure to try harder next time, Sergeant Barnes!”

“Maybe you should, Miss y/l/n”

“Enough!” Steve raised his voice and waited for silence. “Any of us could have gotten him.” He looked around meeting everyone’s eyes, “We cannot keep blaming each other. It’ll do nothing but pull us apart. We have to trust each other and get stronger together.”

He walked around the chair he never actually sat in and stood behind it, “We’re moving forward.” looking at you and Bucky, “Can you two do that?”

You took a few thoughtful seconds before turning to face him, “Yes, sir.” making sure to lift your head as you spoke.

“Whatever,” Bucky huffed and turned to walk out.

“Buck!”

“No, Steve,” stopping in the door frame to look at his friend, “we’re only as strong as our weakest link.” he hung his head and look up at you - almost with pity, “getting distracted is a weakness.”

[lilacjaemin]

starlight

pairing: bad boy!jeno x gender neutral reader

genre: angst and fluff (do we have to go thru this every time its my brand)

warnings: mentions of violence, injuries, blood, brief mentions of death

word count: 1.6k

summary: “was i just supposed to sit there and let it happen?”

a/n: arie, my number one lee jeno enthusiast, this is 4 u <3

·      “starlight, i need you.”

·      the text that woke you at 2:22 in the morning was vague, and that was alarming

·      you fumbled with your phone, frantically trying to blink the sleep from your eyes

·      “im here. are you okay?”

·      the typing bubble seemed to go on forever, and it only made the pit in your stomach worse

·      then it disappeared

·      you held your breath

·      a minute went by before you came to your senses and called him

·      it rang four times before it clicked, and you heard ragged breathing on the other end

·      “jeno?” you whispered, afraid of the answer

·      “yeah, hey babe,” he sounded like he was gasping, “sorry it took so long, texting with one hand. ha.”

·      “jeno, are you okay?”

·      “ah, im- i don’t know. not really.”

·      “where are you? do you need me to come get you?” you started to put your slippers on

·      “no! no, it’s okay. im right outside. look out the window.” he said the words through gritted teeth

·      you pulled the blinds up and peered down over the windowsill, noticing a figure leaning on the wall

·      “im on my way down. stay put.” you hung up before he could protest

·      when you found jeno struggling to hold himself up you could feel your heart skip a few beats

·      “jeno,” you said too loudly into the night

·      “h-hey,” he coughed, slumping onto his right arm, clutching his stomach with his left

·      you rushed forward to catch him

·      you couldn’t see much, but you could tell from the dark shadows on his face it wasn’t good

·      “jeno we should go to the hospital-“

·       “no! we can’t. i’ll be alright. please.”

·      “can you walk?”

·      “y-yeah i can,” he grunted, trying to push himself forward, “well, kinda.”

·      “jeno, im gonna help you upstairs, but you have to help me a little bit too, okay?” you adjusted your hold on him

·      he nodded, biting down on his lip as you carried most of his weight

·      you don’t even know how you got him inside, it was all a blur

·      your adrenaline kicked in, the only thing keeping you from collapsing right next to him

·      you sat him down on the edge of your bed and went to the bathroom to get the first aid kit

·      when you came back you turned on your lamp, finally illuminating your worst fears

·      blood dripped from a gash in his eyebrow

·      his lip was swollen and split

·      his left eye was purple, so puffy he could barely see

·      his knuckles were scraped up

·      you could see the bruises all along his arms and chest under his thin white shirt

·      you tried to keep yourself calm for his sake

·      “is it bad?”

·      you didn’t answer

·      you remained tightlipped as you went to get towels

·      silence was worse than yelling

·      at least with yelling he knew how you felt

·      when you were quiet, you could be thinking anything

·      you could be angry, fuming at his stupidity

·      you could be upset, saddened by his current state

·      you could be planning to break up with him

·      you could break up with him right then and there

·      jeno closed his eyes, pretending to wince at the cool cloth now touching his skin and not at the hot sting of tears behind his eyelids

·      you cleaned the scrapes littering his face, biting your cheek harder and harder each time you heard him gasp

·      “it hurts.” he almost laughed, trying so hard to ease your mind

·      “yeah,” you mumbled, “it hurts me too.”

·      his smile fell

·      “baby, can i explain-“

·      “don’t talk. it’ll only make the pain worse.”

·      when you looked into his eyes it got so much harder to breathe

·      you willed yourself to move, wiping his face

·      the cut on jeno’s eyebrow soon became blurry as the tears threatened to spill out

·      he watched as you bit your lip and blinked them back

·      “starlight, no. please no. don’t cry.”

·      you shook your head, “i’m fine.”

·      as you rubbed at the streak of red going down his cheekbone, your hands shook violently

·      jeno grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks

·      “jeno, i’m fine! now let me help you!” you couldn’t control the cracks in your voice

·      he wouldn’t let go of you

·      “just breathe for a second.”

·      “you’re hurt! you’re really hurt! i’m fine! let me help you!” you felt your emotions unraveling

·      he dropped your wrist, “im sorry.”

·      you exhaled and stepped away, going to grab him an ice pack

·      when you came back, you noticed him clutching his stomach again

·      the panic and fear you felt when you first saw him was rising in your throat until it bubbled over

·      “why would you do this? why would you get into another fight when you know how i feel about them? you promised you’d never do this again!”

·      “im sorry, ”he said quietly, unable to meet your gaze

·      “why would you put yourself in harms way? do you know how badly this breaks my heart? seeing you hardly be able to walk? i can’t bear it, jeno.”

·      “im sorry, baby. im sorry.”

·      you pulled the hem of his shirt up, revealing the dark purple on his stomach

·      he gasped, the slightest movement causing him to see stars at the edges of his vision

·      you peeled his shirt off, wrapping it around him with the ice pack in place and rummaging through your first aid kit for bandages 

·      “your ex was at the party and he was talking about you, okay? he was saying these disgusting things about you. was i just supposed to sit there and let it happen?”

·      “you should’ve.” you said sternly, not looking up

·      he reached out to grab your hand and you froze, his blood caked knuckles a stark contrast from your smooth skin

·       “i went up to him. i punched the smirk right off his face. it was just a fist fight, nothing i couldn’t handle. but his friends jumped in, just one of them at first, but then three more. they surrounded me and fought dirty. i fell to the ground and they started kicking. i knew i was in trouble then.”

·      you could feel his grip around your hand tighten as his voice started to waver

·      “i was scared, i was scared i wouldn’t make it, but i was scared i’d lose you most of all. i knew you’d be mad. i thought for sure i would get here and you would tell me you were done. i know how much you hate fights. you have no idea how that terrified me, more than anything.”

·      “jeno, it was a stupid fight! and all because of me! i just couldn’t live with myself if-“

·      a sob wracked through you and jeno pulled you forward in one swift motion

·      you cried into his neck, holding him close enough to hear his erratic heartbeat

·      he trembled in your hold, his whole body shaking

·      he was scared

·      to everyone else, he liked to put up a front that he was tough and cold and fearless

·      and from what you knew about his past, it wasn’t uncommon to find him swept up in a fight

·      based on stories his friends had told you, he had never let someone walk away from an altercation, at least not without a black eye

·      but to you he was just jeno

·      your boyfriend jeno that loved ice cream dates and sappy love songs and cuddles so tight you could press tiny kisses to whatever skin was closest to your lips

·      the same boy that took one look at your teary eyes the first time you saw his bruised knuckles and swore off fighting for good

·      your jeno, who you could’ve lost tonight

·      adrenaline melted away, leaving fear and pain in its wake

·      “i’m sorry. i lost control. i’m really sorry. i knew it was a mistake the second i hit him. i knew you wouldn’t have wanted that.” you could feel his tears against your skin, his fingers digging into your sides

·      you pulled back to look into his eyes

·      “d-do you hate me?” he whimpered as his thumb wiped some of your tears away

·      you carefully cupped his cheeks, staring at the broken boy in front of you

·      “i could never.” you rested your forehead on his

·      “you’re here. you’re alive.” you said quietly, more so to reassure yourself than him

·      “i love you.” he whispered

·      you tilted your chin forward and caught his lips with yours

·      he kept his hands at your hips as your arms slung around his neck

·      he was still a little shaky and he tasted like blood, his split lip warm against your tongue

·      but he kissed you like the world would end if he stopped

·      when you finally parted, the exhaustion was evident in his eyes

·      you finished cleaning him up in silence, helping him shower and get into clean clothes

·      his head never leaving your shoulder in the process

·      that night he curled up in your arms, a little shaken up, but in one piece

·      as he was drifting off to sleep, he could feel you press your lips to his temple and whisper an ‘i love you’ into his hair

·      he sleepily smiled into your neck, thanking the stars just a little harder for bringing you to him

[rask-the-rogue]

Writing idea: Young Rask meets current Rask and they have a chat.

((Ok first of all thank you so much for the prompt.  This is amazing and I don’t know where it came from but I’m really grateful, as this was fun to write and different from my usual fare.  Not sure if this is totally canon or not– but then, I sorta figure that’s the point. I hope you enjoy!))

If I’m going to be honest, chronomancy has never made an ounce of sense to me, and it probably never will.  I avoid it wherever possible, but you know how dragons are.  They get some idea into their skulls and there’s no convincing them otherwise.  Chromie is no different, and any dragon that chooses a gnome as their mortal form is even less to be trusted, and even more stubborn.

There’s certainly a long story to how we ended up smack in the middle of Old Town thirty years in the past, but I couldn’t tell it to you even if I wanted to waste the time, because I have literally no idea.  According to Chromie, it was my fault, but I gently reminded her that she was the time-traveling, ageless mystical creature, not me, and that also this whole rigmarole was her idea, not mine.

Okay, maybe our discussion wasn’t so much ‘gentle’ as loud, and wasn’t so much a ‘discussion’ as it was an argument.  In the middle of my protest, I realized that I could feel eyes on us, and quickly remembered that as fun as time-traveling was, the area around us was still very much real and potentially dangerous.

As if by some instinct, I looked first toward the crates piled in the small inlet of Cut-Throat Alley, and my eyes landed on a pair that were just as brown and just as surprised as my own.  The little face flitted away from the crevice in half a second, but I knew what I’d seen– and almost without conscious permission, I was moving toward the crates, Chromie briefly distracted with her magical hourglass device.

The thing about these crates is that they’re an easily defensible hiding spot, but not very easily escaped from.  I’m still small enough to wedge my torso into the crevice between two of them, and my fingers close around the little wrist before the small dagger clenched in it can slice me, hauling the boy out into the open as he howls in protest.  Something inside me is protesting, too– it all feels too strange, like I’m acting in a play whose lines have been half forgotten.

“Oi– quit yer squrimin’,” I tell the child, who’s no more than ten for certain, skinny as a rail and so dirt-stained his brown skin is a shade darker than my own.  “I ain’t lookin’ ta hurt ya– relax, relax!”  He swings a leg for my crotch, and when I dodge that he sinks his teeth into the bracer of the arm that has a hold of him.  He looks up at me in surprise when I laugh– not a mean laugh, mind, but a genuine laugh of surprise.

We’ve caught Chromie’s attention by now, and by the sound of her voice I’m sure she’s giving me the stink eye.  “Hey!  No interfering with the locals!  Do you want to be stuck in this timeline forever?  I don’t think so!”

“Ah, fuck off,” I mumble.

“Fuck off!” The child in my grasp says, at the same moment.  I laugh again– and he sinks his teeth into the inner part of my elbow, which definitely hurts.

“Look,” I tell him through gritted teeth, modulating my voice so it’s not as sharp as the pain, “You stop bitin’, I’ll give you a gold. How ‘bout that?”“Rask,” Chromie warns from behind me.  Both me and the boy look at her.  She puffs out a sigh, blowing a lock of hair that’d fallen in her face.  “Oh, perfect.  Of course.  Look– you’re messing around with dangerous stuff, you know.”

“He’s a nine year old kid, Chromie,” I retort dryly.

The kid kicks my shin.  “I’m TEN!”

“He’s a ten year old kid,” I amend, with a wince, re-positioning my hold on the runt.  “Jus’ wanna have a brief conversation, how’s that?”

Chromie squints at me.  I squint back.   She snorts, figuring out that I’ve already figured it out, turning back to her device.  “You’ve got two minutes.  No spoilers!”

I turn my attention back to the kid, placing him on the ground and putting a firm hand on his shoulder.  “Relax.  Look,” I reach behind his ear, pulling it back with a gold piece in my fingers. He blinks at me, then snatches it away as quickly as he can.  His dagger’s still out in his hand, but at least he’s not swinging it at my face.  I keep my eye on it all the same.

“Cheap trick,” He drawls, jutting out his chin as he shoves the coin deep into a pocket of his grimy clothes.

“Aye,” I return with a grin, “It is.  Yer name’s Rask, ain’t it?”  His eyes narrow with suspicion; he doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t need to.  “Look, Rask,” I tell myself, “I’m here ta give ya a bit of a break, alright?  Only got a minute, but ‘s a minute where ain’t no one’s gonna hurt ya.”“Ya grabbed me,” He retorts, sidling back a step.  I let him, seating myself against the dilapidated stoop of the shop at the mouth of the alley– the one that only half-heartedly tries to pretend it’s not selling drugs and poison both.

“Sure did.  I knew talkin’ you outta there would’a taken damn near an hour.”  He gives me an odd look– I don’t blame him– but the pocketknife, too, is slid away into his trouser pocket.

“Fine,” he tells me, gesturing to show he’s defenseless, now.  I smile, knowing he’s not, really.  “Is that gnome yer boss?”

I glance at Chromie; she’s dutifully ignoring us.  “Fer now, I s’ppose.” I drop my voice conspiratorially, smirking at the lad.  “She’s bein’ a right pain in my ass, draggin’ me all over tha place, but I gotta say ‘m glad she’s dragged us ‘ere.”

Rask arches his eyebrow at me (I know he’s quite proud of his ability to do that), glancing around the dirty walls and cobbled streets.  “Why th’ feck’re ya glad ta be in this shithole?”

“‘Cause it means I get ta talk ta you, ‘a course.”  I prod him gently in the chest, and don’t reprimand him for his language.

His eyes are still vaguely suspicious, but he can’t hide the swell of curiosity my words invoke.  “Me?  Why?”

“Well– ‘cause yer a real important lad ta me, y’know.  An’ I reckon you’ll be real important ta people when ya get a bit older.”  Chromie makes a frustrated groaning noise; I ignore it.  “So long ‘s you stay fightin’ tha good fight.”

He’s still eying me narrowly, but he’s drifted a step closer.  “Yeah?  Is that what you did?” His gaze drops to eye the leather pauldron on my shoulder, and leather breastplate, a hand reaching out to touch the unobtrusive, but finely done, tooling around the edge.

I don’t make any move to dislodge his touch, of course.  “Sure is.  Not an easy thing ta do, but…” I eye him over again, from his matted hair to his bare, dirty feet, “It’s worth it, in tha end.”

An odd whirring, humming sound starts up from where Chromie’s standing.  “Time’s up!” She chirps, suddenly in a much more chipper mood.  She tends to be like that.  “Come on– I’m going to have to do a little work to smooth out the wrinkles you’ve caused, Raskolnikov.”

Rask looks up at me, confusion on his face at the name.  The last thing I want to do is stand up and leave him there, alone, in the grimy alley; he needs a bath, and a warm meal, and someone to keep him safe and out of danger.  That last one, especially, he needs so badly it makes my teeth hurt.  But I rise all the same, and don’t let any of that show on my face as I give him a cheerful wink.  “It’ll be alright,” I tell myself.  “Stay gold, eh?”  I can’t help flipping him another gold coin, which he catches in numb fingers, staring at me in surprise and confusion.

I drag my gaze to Chromie, who’s watching us with pursed lips.  “…Let ‘im keep tha money, aye?”  I say, quietly, as I draw up next to her.  She sighs, but I know her heart tends to be softer than the other dragons.  She chose a gnome, after all.

“Fine,” She relents, twisting a few dials on her contraption that I don’t pretend to understand.  Gold light surrounds the two of us; I look back to Rask, his little brown form warped and wavering thanks to the golden magic.  “Now let’s get going.  And no more interfering– you keep your tricksy hands off my Chronomancer.”

“No promises,” I retort as the boy’s figure flicks and disappears to the golden whirl, folded under the sands of time and lost to me in everything but memory.

[funkymbtifiction]

yo yo yo dysfunctional entp here. i've been in a weird, non-creative, funk for the past week or so, i believe largely due to some very well ignored and internalized negative feelings. what is the best way for me (or any Ne user really) to get back into the idea-generating, novelty, creative swing? (im a writer working on a second novel so the whole 'tired of a single project' thing isnt helping either) thanks hot hot hottie

(Gif: Claudia, Warehouse 13. ENTP.)

Uh, well first there’s this: i believe largely due to some very well ignored and internalized negative feelings.

Have you dealt with those yet? Because as a Fe, until you get them out of your head and into the world, you cannot move on and the intense internalization of something that NEEDS made public (Fe) is going to cramp your muse. So, expel those feelings. Share them with someone you trust. Shout them into the void. Express them. You will feel better.

As for getting your Ne-dom mojo back – it’s simple.

Ne needs external stimulation to work. It does not exist in a void. Your Ne bounces off objects, ideas, and stories in the external world. This is why you watch a television show – you get ideas. Better ideas than they used. Or you read a book – and you get more ideas. Or you listen to a song – and you get ideas. Or you talk to someone and… you get the idea, right?

Being in a non-creative funk for a Ne-dom means your creativity tank is drained. Why? Not enough external stimulation. Not enough new stuff to bounce off of. Not enough exposure to things related and unrelated to your current writing project. You need new material going in your head. Start reading someone else’s novels. Start up a television show you’ve never seen before on the side. Read someone who is FULL OF IDEAS, who makes YOU full of ideas, someone EXCITED about their ideas.

Here’s some personal writing advice from a fellow Ne-dom, who quite often experiences temporary creative slumps (since I pretty much work on a novel and/or writing project anywhere from 1 to 8 hours daily, about 10 months out of the year… yeah, I don’t “do” hobbies and I don’t “do” idle time… and it kind of sucks).

If you hit a creative slump, you have two choices:

- Take it back to where your creativity was flowing, and take the plot in a new direction (write a different ending to that scene, or cause something unexpected to happen that you did not see coming)

- Change the setting of the scene (it’s quite possible the setting is boring you; whenever that happens, I go, “What will my reader NOT expect? Okay, the last interrogation scene took place inside a dim cell in the Tower of London. What if THIS TIME Henry VII decides to interrogate someone above the Tower’s lion pit, and dangle him over the side?”)

Here is something vital to remember, as a Ne-dom: you figure it out too far in advance, you’ll get bored with your own ideas.

Every time I have lain out an entire book from start to finish, and drawn up lists of what happens in what chapter, the creative spark dies. I have now started keeping an abstract concept in my mind (this is vaguely where it’s headed / what the climax will be, and what I should introduce next) and then leaving myself questions when I stop writing for the day, to trigger ideas for the next day.

So instead of writing: Heledd meets Alfred on the road and they discuss X, I ask, What does Heledd see that makes her suspicious? How should I introduce doubt into Meg’s mind? What should happen with the ring I introduced in the last chapter? How can I make the big reveal more dramatic?

Leave lots and lots of room for improvisation, too. When I sat down to write the other night, I knew I had to take my heroine through her fears up a road lined with her enemies – people who months before had tried to hang her. So, I knew I had to deal with PTSD trauma. What I did NOT know is that superstition would surround a myth of faerie lights to accuse her brother of murder (the murder, I had planned) and that other people would turn up in support of her, and sing an old Welsh tale to calm her down. But that was nice.

Ne’s delight in the unexpected, in allowing ideas to flourish and spring forth with just enough forewarning to lace together into the rest of the story; you must leave room in your novels for this to happen.

(Gif: Jo March, Little Women. ENFP. My soul sister.)

I’ll be honest here, in the hope it’ll inspire you. I started in on a sequel right after finishing my last book. I was excited about it, I wrote about 20 thousand words, and then I had to stop and do some line editing on the original novel. When I went back to my sequel, my creative spark had DIED. I was distraught; where had all my excitement, enthusiasm, and ideas gone?? So I put that draft in a folder, and tried another. It went on for about 15 thousand words just fine, and then it DIED. More distress. More staring at a blank page. More clueless pondering. More angst. So I delved into it from yet ANOTHER angle. I changed all the POV’s. I tied it back into London in addition to Wales. I invented an entirely new subplot. I wrote about 20 thousand words.

And it DIED. I lost the spark.

I spent one day utterly frustrated, near tears, anxious that maybe I’ll never be able to write another book (low Si paranoia :P) … and I opened up my original draft, the one with 20 thousand words, and skim read the first four chapters… and then sat down and carried the story forward. I’ve kept bits and pieces from each draft, and a lot of that writing can go in this book; but my forward momentum is back. The original idea WAS INDEED the best, or at least, the one my Ne is most passionate about – but it had to explore other options first, before it could settle down to tell THIS story.

Okay, the last bit of advice – you can take it or leave it.

Many high Ne’s benefit from working on multiple projects at once. You should consider, yes, working on your book; and writing a short story or a fan fiction on the side in a totally different genre, to keep your mind active.

I, however, have never been able to do this without losing focus – so I am a “one project at a time” kind of girl, to the extent where if I have an amazing idea for a different book or character in the middle of working on THIS one, I write it down on a slip of paper, stick it in a jar, and forbid my mind from thinking about it further, in order to remain focused.

Finally, write yourself a quick deadline. Given the amount of time you have to spend on this novel, and what else you have to do which might detract from it, and how fast you can write, figure out a rough estimate of how long it will take you to write this book. I spent two years on the last one and it literally almost killed me and drove my family insane (though, technically, since it went through about 14 drafts / rewrites / completely changed focus 4 times, and started out as a novel covering 20 years, went to a novel covering a decade, and wound up being a novel covering 6 months… I was working on more than one novel). This is NOT GOOD for a Ne-dom. We like to see PROGRESS. We like to see a point in our future when we are FREE to pursue OTHER THINGS. So, give yourself six months to write a rough draft. Or four months. Something doable, that keeps you motivated, because:

When I get done with this, I can write something else!

You are verbose. You are creative. You are ideas-driven. And if you’re a Ne-dom, you can turn out an incredible amount of words in a very short time.

You can do this.

Hope that helps,

- ENFP Mod (who tomorrow goes back to writing her sequel, because she did NOT write fiction today and was so bored she could hardly stand it)

[theoneandonlysaucymo]

If its Meant to Be

Prompt: Dean Winchester X Reader 

Words: 3,100

Warnings: Bit angsty and feely

A/N: OH LOOK I WROTE SOMETHING. Yea kinda my goal to try and get one story out a week possibly two if I can. 

Tags: @hymnofthevalkyries @mylittlefandomfanfictions @angryschnauzer @hellomissmabel @kittenofdoomage @feelmyroarrrr

You both needed each other. You needed him like the air you breathed but you knew it was more like he needed you like that whiskey bottle kept hidden in his bag. He was addicted to you but you knew how easily he could be cured of that addiction. You tried not to let it hurt you, it was still your bed he came back to bad hunt after bad hunt. You craved how his skin felt against yours, his calloused hands touched you like glass, those full lips against yours, the way he tasted, how he constantly left you wanting more, you had fallen unbelievably hard for this man. When he spent his days with you, it was natural how you two fit together not just int he bedroom but doing every day things when he had the time, before another hunt drove him away for however long till the next bad hunt.

Oh you tried going on with your life. Tried to have a normal life even, tried the whole dating game but right as you thought you had your life all together...you found that black Chevy impala parked in your driveway and spiraled back into what was safe what you had fallen in love with. It was a constant spiral leading your emotions all over the place, content when he was with you but alone....alone you were not happy. Something had to give and you knew how to make all this stop. 

He was leaving again packing his bag for the next hunt his brother had called him about. You were at the door he had just turned back to kiss you goodbye and you finally spoke your mind. 

“I wont keep doing this,” You spoke softly holding your hand at his chest keeping him from leaning forward. “I know you wont ever settle down and I’m never going to ask you to but I need something more stable than waiting by a phone praying I don’t get a phone call you are dead.....hoping I can see you again but....its fine when you are here, when you are here I feel normal but when you leave for weeks and months its always just enough for me to try and move on with my life then you show up again. I cant keep being your healing place when I’m the one breaking apart and trying to piece myself back together. No more, I’m your friend and I always will be but I cant keep doing this, we cant keep doing this to each other cause its not ok Dean,” You added finally looking up to him. The hurt in his eyes, you were ready for it...you thought so anyways. He nodded trying to fumble for words you could see him already trying to run as you grabbed his hand. “That doesn't mean you can be a stranger around here ok? Dean I still love you as much as you don’t want to hear it that wont ever change I just cant be your secret lover anymore ok?” You said to him softly. He gave you a half smile, it wasnt ok you knew that smile he was trying to keep it together for you anyways and failing miserably. 

“Yea....Yea sweetheart ill make sure to call and stop by,” He sighed pulling you into a hug. He held on tight for all the world you were slipping away, you hugged back just as tight trying to reassure him you weren’t leaving. 

“You better or I’ll pester you and Sam to death,” You laughed smiling up to him. He leaned in kissing your lips with a soft peck before letting you go. 

“Ill see you around then huh?” Dean smiled before getting in baby starting the engine and driving off. Well....that could have gone worse....you sighed out heading back inside. 

You waited for him to call that night but no like true Dean fashion nothing. You weren’t worried it wasn’t a new thing. Week past with no word and again you didn’t worry, you needed to stop worrying so put it behind you. After a month you finally couldn’t help yourself and you sent him a text message. Days went by still not response, you tried again...and again it went unanswered. You tried messaging Sam just to make sure everyone was alive and well...but again no response. Now now you were making yourself sick with worry, hardly eating nauseous when you did eat and tired all the time, emotions were wrecking you. Checking your phone every minute and the longer with no messages the more your stomach churned with anxiety. Finally you called you dialed Dean but....then you understood why you couldn’t get a hold of him...he had changed his number...Sam to. Well....this was not what you wanted, maybe not quite this drastic now you had no Dean at all in your life and it felt like a giant part of you was now missing. 

4 years later

“Will you just call her? You still have her number memorized I know you do, just call her she still probably lives here,” Sam said as he looked out the window. While he had never been here he had heard a lot about it. “Dean-”

“Absolutely not Sam now back off....we are here about a ghost and that’s it,” Dean scolded at his younger brother and thankfully that hunt was on the other side of town...well away from where SHE lived if she still even lived here. They stopped at the motel getting a room and dropping their stuff off. “Im going to get food what do you want?” Dean asked as he was just trying to keep busy until Sam found where ever this house was. 

“Whatever is fine tonight, ill get on the news websites and see if I can find it better,” Sam added but secretly was hoping Dean was going to see her. Dean was not OK with out her even Sam had picked up on that the second they had broke things off. Even worse it wasnt until a few weeks ago Sam realized Dean had changed both their numbers so any hopes of her contacting them were dashed. That wasnt ok with Sam at all just because Dean has sworn her off didnt mean he had the right to do that to Sam....also their may or may not be a ghost here either....he was just trying to have not such a moody Dean back. The bottle didnt do him well, neither did him trying to sleep around and it only ending in disaster most nights, Dean needed her plain and simple. 

Dean drove past her old house, four years...no way she was still there. Sure enough a different car sat in the driveway, fresh coat of paint over the house, looked like a new family had moved in...good he was happy she had moved on. Part of him had hoped to see her car in the drive but he was glad he didn’t. He lingered in front of her house no longer than he had to before heading off to the store, might as well grab some beer. He grabbed a small shopping cart  walking through the aisle grabbing a few things for Sam and a few things for himself. He got to the beer looking through for something. He smiled as he spotted a brand made locally....it was one she always liked and he grew fond of as well. 

“Natalie....Natalie get back here.... we just got here I cant even look for three seconds!” Dean vaguely heard someone complaining from an aisle over before he felt something by his leg. He looked down spotting a small girl as she giggled and moved hiding behind his legs, Dean was half amused by her as he heard her name called again. 

“I assume you are Natalie huh?” Dean smiled as the small girl looked up smile bright on her face. Dean froze shocked as he looked at her. Bright green eyes looked back at him, freckles adored her face, and she had curly hair but every bit the same color as hers. 

“Natalie there you are, I am so sorry,” Dean looked up expecting to see you but instead found someone else. 

“Hey dont worry about it she is adorable yours?” Dean smiled as the girl moved picking Natalie up. 

“No no I just baby sit for her mom when shes at work,” The girl smiled bouncing Natalie making her smile. “You are new around town what brings you here?” She asked. Flirting she was most diffidently flirting. 

“Just passing through, brother and I are staying at the motel just came by for something other than fast food,” Dean said as he picked up the six pack of local beer. 

“Good choice on that one Natalie’s mom works in the offices there good company, well have fun on your stay here,” She smiled walking away with Natalie who waived at him bye. Dean waived back but walked along making sure he hadnt forgot anything. He checked out and spotted that car from earlier that was parked in your driveway with the babysitter and Natalie loading a few things in the back. Dean’s blood ran cold, the girl was about the right age and that car...was the babysitters not yours. Dean quickly headed back to the motel slamming the door as he looked at Sam.

“DID YOU KNOW?!” Dean yelled out grabbing Sam by his shirt collar. 

“DEAN KNOW WHAT?!” Sam said aloud shocked. “Dean know what I don’t even know what you are talking about!”

“Y/N did you know about a kid?!” Dean added angry. 

“Kid? Dean what are you talking about you are not making sense I don’t even know if she lives here anymore?” Sam added and Dean let him go. “Dude tell me what happened?” Sam asked trying to piece together. Dean sighed out as he sat on his bed starting to go over what happened. Sam sat quietly trying to process it all. 

“Well guess the only way to find out is to go and see her,” Sam added as Dean sat there quietly. Sam also rolled up the magazine on his table before whacking his brother on the shoulder multiple times. “Now get lost,” Sam said as she chased him out and shook his head. He didnt expect this happening but now he was mad at his brother.....he should have left Sam’s number alone. 

“Hey I’m home,” You yelled out and smiled as your daughter ran towards you and you picked her up kissing her cheek. “Were you good today?” You asked with a smile. 

“YEs....played hide and seek at store before sissy found me,” She laughed before you let he down and looked at the sitter. 

“Turned my back to grab the cereal she liked and poof she was quickly an aisle away,” The sitter laughed as she grabbed her things to head home. “We did however meet a very nice looking man right Nat?” Sitter smiled as Natalie nodded. “Cute guy too about yeh high, brown hair, freckles on his face and the pretties green eyes I think I’ve ever seen totally looks like your type too,” Sitter grinned before heading out the door. Your heart sank no way after all this time he would bother coming back but with Natalie saying she was hungry you didnt have time to think about it. 

Didnt take long before your daughter had eaten, bathed and was happily sleeping in bed. You sighed out finally sitting on the couch propping your feet up on the couch. Well....today certainly had been long. All you could hear was the quiet of your house, TV was off, no radio on, and your phone turned off for the night. The only sound that you could hear was the sound of an older engine, one you knew all too well. You groaned getting up off the couch and headed for the door opening just as he walked up the stairs. “Hey you,” You said softly to him as you leaned against your doorway. 

“Y/N...I...uh hi,” Dean smiled. Same old Dean but you didnt let him in like before. You just waited arms crossed looking at him you were not letting him off that easy right now. “Look I just need to know do you have a kid?” He asked not even trying to apologize just yet. “I saw a little girl earlier, right age, looked like you but had my eyes...do you have a child?” He asked again this time sincere. You let out a sigh, no point hiding it now you motioned for him to come in. Your house looked mostly the same few new furniture nothing yet he could see that you had a child. He followed you up the stairs, ones he knew so well even after all this time but instead of heading to your room you headed to the other one the door cracked just slightly. You leaned against the wall and nodded to him, he wanted the truth he would need to find out himself. Dean was looking from you to the door before hesitantly walking for it. You excused yourself quietly heading back downstairs letting him have his moment. Dean was nervous to open the door but he did. Natalie was sound asleep hugging a stuffed teddy bear while a night light lit up the room. Dean sat down gently on her bed his hand hesitating touching her. He looked to her night stand seeing a picture of you and him together. That was pretty solid evidence as his hand gently moved a strand of her curly hair out of her face. Dean looked up searching the door for you but you were no where to be found. He got back up and closed Natalie’s door quietly before heading downstairs finding you int he kitchen washing some dishes. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Dean asked. You set a plate down a bit forcefully as you whipped your head around to him. 

“Are you really going to ask me that Dean Winchester? You really going that way Mr. I changed my number OH AND my brothers number?” You said firmly to him. You were trying not to yell, you didn’t want to wake Natalie. “Don’t even go that route I was trying to tell you but like I know where you two live, Like i know anyone you both hang out with, NO because my only contacts to you are dead Dean and you conveniently didn’t bother leaving me a return address on anything you sent me years ago,” You added as you got back to the dishes. 

“Y/N...” Dean called your name softly. You turned around wiping your hands off. 

“What do you want me to say Dean? I didn’t know when you left I found out two months later when I thought it was my nerves and anxiety making me sick...no oh hell no turns out i was three months pregnant so as much as I wanted to forget you since you clearly decided to cut me off I couldn’t. Yes we were both careful you used protection I had birth control but clearly she was meant to be so I wasn’t going to stop her from coming into this world. I tried to for months but I wasn’t going to find you I knew that, you sure as hell knew that. What else do you want me to say, yea it was rough going through all this alone but here I am doing just fine.  Natalie starts daycare in about a month, I’m actually in a job I enjoy not sure what you want me to say. Did I miss you, yes was it hard trust me I cursed your name many times but i made it I don’t even know why you are back now,” You added arms crossed as you shook your head disapprovingly. “Knowing you its a hunt of some sort so I cant even try to act like im happy to have you back cause I’m not it was never to see us. You just happened to run into her Natalie with the sitter. I’m not here to try and trap you, yes we have a kid... but I don’t need anything from you and for now she doesn’t either,” You scolded again. Dean let you...he didn’t say a word as he looked down on the ground and you didn’t even have enough fight left in you to care. 

“Does she ask about me?” Dean asked softly. You threw the hand towel down and nodded. 

“Not all the time but she does...don’t think she fully understands yet she thinks just me is normal but I don’t lie to her Dean just say your away on business helping people and to a three year old good enough an answer,” You sighed out and finally he moved for you his hand moving taking yours from your arm gently into his. You let out a sigh, this was still Dean, the man you were still hopelessly in love with even as mad as you were. 

“Can I try?” Dean asked softly and you looked up at him a bit confused. “Can I try to make it up to the both of you?  I know I have  a lot to make up for with you, you know I’m shit with words so no matter what I’m going to say its not ever going to be enough but will you let me try?” Dean asked again softly his green eyes looking down at you. 

“I need some time Dean but its not out of the option can you give me that? Hang around maybe bring Sam around...have an actual phone to reach you at? Spend time with Natalie I want you in her life if you want to be in her life but don’t play this appear and disappear game with her like you did me ok?” You said looking up at him. He nodded a smile swept over his face, you could see the guilt too but would take awhile before you fully forgave him he wasn’t getting off that easy. 

“Yea....Yea I can do that....I don’t think Sam brought us here for a case anyways,” Dean laughed halfheartedly. “Come here,” he added pulling you in close and his arms wrapped around you. You sighed out taking in his scent again, the leather from his jacket, bit of salt, gunpowder, and lord knows what herbs from all the things they did. It was soothing your arms wrapped around him again. This wasn’t perfect, your poor emotions were numb right now but still this felt right. It may not have been how you wanted everything backwards but if it was meant to be who were you to stop it.