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daydreaming-nerd · 5 years ago

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Moon River (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: Bucky has a nightmare and the reader hears him and comes to take care of him the only way she can think of.

Warnings: Nightmare, bucky has a panic attack, shy bucky, friends to lovers, tooth rotting fluff, like guys the end is so fluffy I can’t let me tell you this a feel good story.

an: here’s an old draft I’ve been saving for a rainy day. It’s inspired by Moon River from Breakfast at Tiffany’s! Here’s the inspo for this whole fic.

It was just another night at the tower. My bare feet padded across the cold hardwood floor towards the kitchen to fill up my water cup. As I was waiting for my glass to fill I looked out at the city lights. Most people prefer mountains and valleys but I’ve always preferred the twinkling lights on the black sky.

As if on queue I heard a scream coming from one of the rooms. A scream that was so loud I could feel it go through my ears and down my spine causing my body to shudder.

I ran as fast as I could towards the rooms. It didn’t take me long to realize it was coming from Bucky’s room. When I threw open the door I expected at least a dozen intruders and one very injured Bucky, but instead I found him thrashing around in his bed screaming so loud his throat must feel like sand paper.

I ran over to him and immediately tried to wake him up.

“Bucky! Bucky wake up!” I screamed shaking his shoulders. “BUCKY WAKE UP ITS JUST A DREAM!” I yelled at the top of my lungs.

All of the sudden he woke up and before I could even ask him if he was okay he started to panic. Shaking and crying he latched onto me burying his head in my chest. His rapid breaths hitting the neckline of my tank top.

I would be completely lying if it said I knew exactly what to do in this situation. I had never talked to Bucky before now. If it wasn’t for my close friendship with Steve I’m sure he wouldn’t even know my name. Never the less we were practically strangers, yet here he sat clinging to me like I was the first human he had seen in ten years. I thought hard and fast about what always relaxes me. I started by lying down on my back so he was lying on top of me. Immediately after my brain ran to a song from my favorite move and I figured there was no way I could make it any worse. As I begun to sing I ran my hand up and down his back in a soothing manner.

Moon river, wider than a mile

I'm crossing you in style some day.

Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker

Wherever you're goin', I'm goin' your way

Two drifters, off to see the world

There's such a lot of world to see.

We're after the same rainbow's end, waitin' 'round the bend

My huckleberry friend, moon river, and me...

Almost as soon as it had all started it ended. Bucky sat fast asleep on top of me and I didn’t dare move. I would get up earlier in the morning to avoid the awkwardness.

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When I woke up the next morning I totally missed my mark. I sat in an empty bed where Bucky used to be. I sighed and walked out into the kitchen. There he was at the stove making scrambled eggs. My favorite mug was sitting on the counter filled with coffee.

“Hi” Bucky said shyly turning around to put his eggs on a plate.

“Hi,” I said back.

“I uh- I made you some coffee,” he said nodding towards my mug immediately casting his head down as if I were about to disapprove of the gesture.

“Thank you,” I said sitting down with it.

A silence ensued. Both of us knew what had happened last night but neither of us wanted to say anything. I wanted to tell him it was okay and that my heart went out to him. That he could always come to me. But the fact that we were still technically strangers silenced me.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Don’t be it happens to everyone,” I said.

“Not as frequently though,” he said sadly.

“Well don’t be ashamed, I know you don’t really know me but I’m always here for you if you need it,”

“Thank you,” he said with a small smile.

I have to admit part of me hoped he would want to see me again.

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The next time I heard from Bucky Barnes was when I got back from my run to find pink peonies sitting on my nightstand with a note scribbled in his handwriting.

I’m sorry again...thank you y/n.

-Bucky

I immediately changed and walked to the gym where I saw him training before I left. He has just finished up and was leaving.

“Thank you for the flowers,” I said.

“Oh-oh you’re welcome,” he said bashfully a red tint coming to his cheeks.

“I had to know,” I started “How did you know pink peonies were my favorite?”

“I uh- I asked Steve,” He said scratching the back of his neck “Sorry thats probably really creepy” he added embarrassed.

“No it’s not creepy, it’s sweet,” I said with a smile before walking towards the showers.

“Hey y/n can I ask you something?” Bucky said.

“Yes of course,”

“What was that song last night?” He said

“It’s called Moon River, it’s from my favorite movie Breakfast At Tiffany’s” I replied.

“Moon river,” he repeated to himself “I’ll remember that” he said walking towards his room.

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I didn’t hear from Bucky for three days after that. I had assumed that all was well until one night I was woken up by F.R.I.D.A.Y around 4am

“Miss l/n, it appears Mr. Barnes is in a high amount of distress. He is requesting your presence in his room.”

I threw off my covers and ran straight to his room. When I got there I expected to see him in the middle of another bad dream but instead he just sat straight up on his bed still semi tucked into the covers wearing only an old pair of sweats. He let out a sniffle and when I sat down next to him I could tell that he had not slept since the last time I spoke to him.

I reached my hand out to cup his face and he leaned into my touch and looked at me with the saddest eyes in the world. I got up and sat on his lap and pulled him into my chest thinking I could hug all the sad out of him.

“What happened?” I asked running a hand through his hair.

“I thought I could just listen to the song and it would put me to sleep that way I wouldn’t bother you. But it’s not the same if you don’t sing it to me,” He said wrapping his arms around me to keep me put.

“Come here,” I said lying down just like I did the first night and began singing to him.

When I was sure he was sound asleep I tried to wiggle out of his grasp so he could sleep more soundly. I almost succeeded when I felt Bucky stir.

“Please don’t go,” he said half asleep.

If there was one thing I couldn’t say no to it was Bucky Barnes.

So I climbed back into his bed and he instantly wrapped his arm around me only to rip it away.

“What’s wrong Buck?” I said.

“My metal arm. I don’t wanna hurt you,” he said sadly already turning around to face away from me.

“You won’t hurt me Buck I promise,” I said grabbing his metal arm and pulling him towards me again.

He didn’t protest he just rolled back over and wrapped his metal arm around me. The vibranium was cold but I didn’t mind because it reminded me that Bucky was with me.

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I woke up the next morning with the light of the sun on my face. I could hear Bucky’s steady breathing behind me. I peaked behind me to find he was still asleep.

I started getting out of bed only to have his hand clench around my waist. I giggled to myself and slowly pried his hand off getting out of bed. I stopped to look at him. He was so peaceful, this way despite the small look of disapproval that had subconsciously took over his face when I wiggled away from his grasp. I tip toed into the kitchen to start making breakfast.

I was on my last Mickey Mouse shaped pancake when I heard a familiar voice.

“I feel like I should be the one making you breakfast,” Bucky said walking towards the plate of bacon next to me and the stove.

“You had a rough night last night, and besides I felt like making Mickey pancakes,” I replied.

I put a plate together and handed it to him.

“Thanks doll,” he said blushing.

He sat down at the counter and all of the sudden the name he had just given me had sunk in leaving butterflies in my stomach.

“Doll?” I questioned.

“I’m uh... I’m sorry it slipped,” He said getting flustered.

“Don’t be sorry I liked it,” I smiled setting down my plate across from his.

I started eating a piece of bacon and then he got his courage to speak again.

“This is really good,” he started “Thank you again”

“Don’t mention it, I’d never pass up the opportunity to make Mickey pancakes. Disney is kinda my thing,”

“I remember when Snow White came out, Bambi too. I always liked Bambi better.” he said before taking another bite.

“Bambi is one of my favorite’s as well. You know when you go to an art gallery and look at a painting and try to imagine the world inside of it and the story inside that world? That’s what I think watching Bambi is like.” I said.

“I never thought of it like that,” he said.

We both shoved another enormous bite on our mouths

“You know, I’ve never actually seen Breakfast At Tiffany’s,” he confessed.

“It’s an older movie, not as old as you, but old” I joked.

“Ouch,” he smiled.

“Don’t worry Barnes, you look pretty good for an old man,” I said with a wink putting my plate in the sink and walking towards my room. “8 o’clock tonight”

“8 o’clock tonight for what?” he asked.

“Watching Breakfast At Tiffany’s of course!”

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From that night forward I had fallen head over heels for the soldier. Something about him just pulled me in and made me feel safe, made me feel like I had come home after being gone for years. We did everything together but Bucky was still shy with me at times. Never really opening up just always there beside me. The team made fun of him calling him my shadow. I never faulted him for it though. He might’ve been the one to always come find me and ask me what I was up to but in reality I was the one always hoping he would. Most nights he could make it through without needing me to save him from a nightmare but whenever he did I was always there to sing Moon River to him.

Two months passed and another one of my birthdays had arrived faster than I wanted it to. I was never a fan of birthdays. For me the whole experience was terribly awkward. Which would explain as to why I never let the team know.

I had gone most of the day being able to avoid everyone just in case, but I knew at some point a certain soldier would be knocking at my door and honestly I didn’t mind.

When that quiet little knock finally did come though I told him to come in. He walked in holding a box wrapped in yesterdays newspaper.

“Happy Birthday doll,” he said sitting down on the bed next to me handing me the box.

“Oh Bucky you shouldn’t have” I said giving him a hug.

“Natasha said I should’ve used prettier wrapping paper but I didn’t even know how to wrap a present let alone how to make it pretty and I really hope that’s okay-” he rambled.

“shhhh Bucky I love it already,” I said starting to tear the newspaper off.

Once I got all the paper off I opened the package and inside was a silver box shaped like a heart.

“Oh Bucky it’s-”

“I wanted to give you something from Tiffany but I couldn’t afford it,”He said sadly. “So I did the next best thing,” he said insinuating for me to open the box.

I lifted the silver lid and music started to play. It was a music box, a music box that played Moon River. The inside of the lid was engraved, it said ‘For my best girl’

Tears started to fill my eyes. I couldn’t believe how beautiful it was.

“What is it doll? Do you not like it?” Bucky said anxiously.

“In all my years, no ones ever given me such a beautiful and thoughtful gift. Bucky I absolutely love it,” I said letting a few tears fall down my face.

“y/n, I love you,” He blurted out.

“Bucky I-”

“Wait that’s not on my script,” he started “y/n I love you. I love how you can never make regular pancakes because you think it’s a waste of batter to not make them look like Mickey Mouse. I love how you make me feel like I’m the only person in the world. I love how I miss you even when you’re just down the hall. I love how you help me understand technology without being condescending. I love how soft your skin is and how you always smell like vanilla and strawberries. I love how calm your voice is and how beautiful you look when the sunrises and you’re still asleep. I love how you always feel like home to me even when I haven’t felt that feeling since 1945. I love how two months ago when you heard me screaming you came in and took care of me even though you didn’t even know me. And I just- I love you! And I know I don’t deserve you and I know you must think I’m a fool, but I couldn’t hold it in any longer.” he said.

“Bucky, I love you too.” I smiled

“You do?” he asked stunned at my response.

“Of course I do! How could I not?” I laughed

“You’re not just saying this to make me happy right?”

“No Bucky I really do love you,” I beamed.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked.

“You better!”

Without another word he grabbed the back of my neck and connected our lips. It was everything I ever wanted it to be. He was soft and gentle, every word he said to me came to life in that kiss as his lips moved against mine. Before things got too heated we pulled apart.

“You’re mine?” He said pressing his forehead to mine smiling.

“All yours Barnes,” I said sealing my promise with a kiss.

PLEASE LEAVE ME A COMMENT IF YOU LIKED IT! GETTING A FEEDBACK FROM YOU GUYS IS THE REASON I WRITE! I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED IT AS MUCH AS I LOVED WRITING IT! I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH! THANK YOU! STAY SAFE AND STAY HEALTHY <3

#Bucky Barnes #James Buchanan Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky angst #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan x you #bucky barnes x reader fluf

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starlightshore · 5 years ago

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im kinda want to get into this sort of thing so is it okay to ask u a few questions? if not just delete this, but here goes? would u reccomend game maker studio 2, and how hard is it to use in ur opinion? and is there anything u wish u knew at the beginning of making ur fangame?

aw anon you’re so sweet! don’t worry about asking about this, its really exciting to make games and trying new things! i would not say i’m an expert, and i wouldn’t even say i know gml like. at all. i just understand a how the code is used, but now what the code itself is or what to type exactly. like, i understand the theory more so than actually doing it. which is, eh, fine? i’m getting by, and i’m still learning. i’ve only been using gms 2 for 2 months now.

also, i’m using a fangame engine! i feel its kinda like cheating lmao, but its just meant to be a framework to build your own thing off of. and i still need to learn gms2 to use it, and i plan on doing more advanced and complicated things (ie: changing how battles even work structurally.) so. i’m not good at gsm2 yet, but uh, really once you understand coding its not any harder than i’d imagine w/ other professional game engines. compared to unity, i like this better because it seems built on the idea of making 2d sprite games. its SO much more simpler and the userface (while. i’m not a fan of how it has its workspace but whatever) is simple and easy to grasp.

i can’t say for certain if i recommend game maker. its very pricey and doesn’t go on sale often. (big sales i mean, it goes on 15% somewhat frequently) i really, really recommend doing your research first.

so here i talk about what game engines i’ve used over the last year. (also i hear Godot is good!)

at the end of that post i said this: “TLDR; figure out what kind of game and story you want to tell/make. i could of saved a year’s worth of work if i just sat myself down and realized i wanted to make a completely new fangame separate from my old blog stuff. and that i wanted to make an rpg specifically.“

and so! past me has good advice. figure out the scope and what story do you want to tell. with AL, I know it has 2 chapters, and rn i’m only concentrating on chapter 1. chp 1 has 7 nights and one area where you fight enemies. its very story/character driven and is more so like. a deconstruction of the rpg genre than an actual rpg game. (i know that the word deconstruction is over used as hell, but it is what this is.)

it builds off the themes of the original, while focusing on things that i want to focus on and develop. ut, at it’s heart, is about stories and grief, i’m just taking it to a different extreme and angle.

uh, anyway, i really wish i knew what i wanted to make and understood the source material more and what i wanted to make. i’ve. thought really really hard over what UT means, what message toby was trying to convey, how he did it and what I thought about it. understanding what YOU want from and for your project is the most important thing. WHY do you want to make this? WHAT do you want people to feel and think about when playing? or even, after playing? it doesn’t have to be super deep either.

so, figure out what you what to make, and then you can work on the how. really plan your story, but honestly i wouldn’t recommend planning it in super big details right off. also, super helpful to have a friend help you brainstorm and plot check things for you. (shout out to my friend the sniffer

anyway, don’t plan things TOO detailed because things are GOING to change no matter how well you plan! just try to get get an outline done, then rewrite it 5 more times and then MAYBE you’ll be ready to tackle a more detailed version. then write it 5 more times. i can’t stress enough how important planning is, and how you shouldn’t expect everything to work out even on draft 10! things will work, and when they do, draft 10 is going to look like bad awful nonsense cause you’re at draft 20 now and everything is much more coherent and better. games aren’t written or consumed all at once on the fly. its not a piece of fanart, a fanfic, a comic. its not updated more than once. its out, and then its just out. plan for it.

and real quick, don’t worry about art assets! depending on how you do the art, that’s most likely going to change and its going to be polished LAST. i could go more into how you should think of art when game developing, but thats another topic. just. honestly use shitty art assets and worry about it later.

kris’ place holder sprite for deltarune ^ it don’t need to be pretty, it needs to be practical.

second advice: start SMALL!!! i feel i should of done this, and frankly i probably will have to sit down and do this lmao, basically, you should make boring small games to learn the basics. I know, i know, nobody really wants to recreate asteroid when you got big ideas of making stories and animations u wanna make. but like. you really need to figure out how the program works and how the code works in theory and practice.

ok so like, think of coding like this. i got this from a skillshare video series, so uh. i’m going to retell this but in a shittier and likely less nuanced way. sorry

ok so imagine. you’re telling this guy who is trying to get to Gary’s house. now, Gary’s house is just down the road, few houses down, now, you can tell this guy that and he’ll likely find the house just fine. but if you’re telling a robot it’s not going to understand what “down the road” means. what road? how long? it needs instructions that are simple and work in a language it understands.

so you tell the robot “go down two houses, stop at sign until x seconds pass, turn right, go forward 1 house, turn ect. stop at house, ring doorbell. IF Gary answers, go inside; ELSE: do not go inside, wait;

so this what i mean by understanding the theory behind the code rather than the code itself. yes there’s complexities and differences in each language, but they’re ALL based on the same concepts. different program languages are less like different speech languages, but rather different dialects of the same. (uh, like us english vs uk english) its just different rules and “spellings” of the same core concepts.

next advice: don’t be afraid to ask for help! but also! do so within reason! if people are OPEN for helping, be sure do so in the right environment and within what time works for them. compensate people for the time and effort if you can. ALWAYS try to figure out the solution yourself first. often with coding, it can be a simple solution that you could of thought of yourself if you took the initiative to. google is your friend, youtube is your friend! (ok, youtube isn’t, but in this case! yes!) the answer might not always be easy to find, and its perfectly fine to look for help but its good to at least try on your own first!

speaking of which! LEARN LEARN LEARN! be ready to devote A LOT of time to watching and reading about game development. this goes to every game making program, not just gms2. i watch. so many videos on gms. i rec having the video play at 1.5x or 2x speed to cut down time. obvs you still need to retain the information, so speed might be not a good idea then. and its REALLY GOOD to pause and type out the code and follow along. but its also good to just understand the concepts, and theres no harm in rewatching once you’ve understood it better at a different speed.

things WILL click and work out for you, and its going to be a very time consuming and long journey to get there. i LOVE making this game and telling this story but I also had no idea what i was getting into! and i probably will have more advice once i’m further in, (i’ve only used gms 2 for 2 months!) but thats the best i can say for now! i hope you pursue your dreams and start making things!!! you can do it!!!

the best time to start is yesterday, the second best time is right now! even if you put a little effort into it everyday, you’ll build up progress and you can learn SO MUCH over time and theres this whole world of possibilities out there! the world NEEDS your story and your perspective, and i think creating it in anyway you can is necessary for humanity! your work will mean something to someone someday, and i am so excited for you to start your journey!

#i know u probs meant gms2 specifically but this got a little out of hand lmao #long post #personal stuff #sams replies #Anonymous

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floralgothpersephone · 5 years ago

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Countdown

Sooooo.... several.... um months ago, I was tagged by @jaygirl987 and this has just been sitting in my drafts... forever??? oops. Oh well, I am feeling in an over-sharing mood. So I am going to do it now. Felt confident in sharing, might delete later. Response is below the cut, because we are writing essays tonight.

Rules: List 1 Insecurity, 2 Fears, 3 Turn-ons, 4 Life Goals, 5 Things I like, 6 Weaknesses, 7 Things I Love, 8 Tags I am going to tag: @akai-vampire, @claudeng80, @bookloverfio, @bigprincess-energy, @peachdoxie, @ruleofexception, @infinitelystrangemachinex, @anais-mitchell

ONE Insecurity:

---People who meet me for the first time always say I am remarkable. But I don’t really agree with that at all, I still don’t understand where people get that from. I feel very desperately flawed and a moderately dysfunctional human doing my damned best with what I’ve got, and isn’t that just a normal state of being for everyone making their way in this life. And if people say I am remarkable, and it turns out to be true, then does that mean I am not normal??? How is everyone else living their life then? What am I doing wrong??? or right?? or differently??? How do I bottle up this whole remarkable thing and share it with everyone else?? Being called remarkable makes me fear for everyone else. Because if i am struggling this much, and people still seem to think I am amazing then does that mean everyone else who is struggling is failing in some reguard? I have met so many other people in the world who are just as special as me, and if i am raised above that then what about all those other people? Aren’t they remarkable too? Kinda takes away the meaning of remarkable then, if everyone else is also remarkable. I don’t know. Every time I meet someone new and they call me remarkable it makes my skin crawl. What sort of face are they seeing me wear that makes it happen so often? I just try and be myself, and stay true to who I am in any given moment but then that makes their statement have more power? I hate it. Nothing makes me more insecure. I can go from full blown confidence down to nothing the moment someone says that about me. I know I am odd and don’t quite function right in society, and have a very different perspective on it because of my dysfunction, but that shouldn’t make me remarkable. There are too many other people in this world for me to be remarkable.

TWO Fears:

---I may never get to see Amber Gray perform Persephone in Hadestown

---Cockroaches. Turns out I have an actual phobia of cockroaches.

THREE “turn-ons”:

---Silly Antics, like sheer outrageous, ridiculous things that make you laugh until you cry. Like, I fall in love a little bit with everyone who has ever made me laugh. So like, the more you make me the laugh the more I look at that and go, “mhm tasty”. Also, if we are not laughing at some point during sex then what even is the point???

--- Loyalty, Reliability and just being supportive and a good friend. Like, I am very much very very demisexual and while I can look at people and love their look and their aesthetics and be attracted to that, I need a very firm established relationship for like... years, before I am ever actually interested in letting them into my bed. I need some definite proof that they are in this for the long run before I can let my sexuality come into play.

---Being crafty and creative. Seeing someone make a very nice craft gets me all worked up in ways I can’t quite describe. But every time a partner of mine starts a project and is making things I want to jump their b o n e s.

FOUR Life Goals:

---Get my ass to fucking Greece and like. Stay there. For months. And just travel??? And like, take my time, no rushing around to do every single thing. I want to go to these places and be there for so long that I can just sit and be.

---B a b i e s. Dear lordy if you look at every major decision i have ever made in my life, it has all lead up to the fact that I want to have kids, and I want to have a family in a very specific supportive and stable way and I need to complete these things before i can have my kids. BUT BOY THE HORMONES ARE STRONG AND I WANT THEM NOW.

---Can I put travel twice? Travel is so important to me. I have to see the world, I need to map it. I need to see all the different types of humans and cultures there are in the world and I need to experience what there is in this life before its all over.

---I have this home I like to dream about, its constantly changing, but its small, while having enough space to breathe, covered in plants, an entire wall that is just a bookcase to store the entirety of Alex and I’s mug collection (we are looking at least 80 mugs between the two of us currently). A claw foot bathtub in a room full of windows that is just a glorified greenhouse really. comfy reading nooks and places for play, covered in nothing but soft blankets and cushioned seats. A cat or two lounging around among all the soft places in the sun light. Walls covered in cork boards so that I can pin up hundreds of pictures of the family I have built for myself. Little foot steps running around from kids playing, and having my partners home with me to cook and raise the little ones together in a family and a community. I just. I just want that little domestic haven of something calm and secure that I never got to have growing up in my life.

FIVE Things I Like:

---Pottery! (my craft of choice, I’ve been making pots for 17 years now and it never gets old)

---Plants! (I live in a small jungle! I’m a plant witch! I love my plants! They are my only friends some days! But thats okay, I take care of them and in return they take care of me.)

---Places! (I’m a map maker, I love learning about the identity of a location both on a map and within the human mind. How amazing that a collection of humans create an identity for a geographical space separate from other all the other geographical spaces. That’s wild! I want to learn what makes them all different forever!)

---Purple! (My hair is purple, its been purple since I started grad school! I flirted with pink hair and orange hair last year to try on different types of variety and see how that fit but I am back to purple and I am back to my normal skin! My purple hair is the source of my internal confidence and a major point of my identity)

---Music! (I am not sure I would ever be able to navigate my own mental landscape without the aid of music guiding me through all my different emotions and feelings so that I could have a safe place to experience them without fear of repercussion)

SIX Weaknesses:

---I over think everything (case and point, this post, whoops)

---An open opportunity. Like, if I am given an opportunity suddenly that wasn’t previously available and wouldn’t be available in the future, I will move mountains to make it happen. If I see a window to be able to do something with a time limit I am jumpin as fast as I can to get through that window before it closes. I think its because I grew up with zero opportunities in my life when I was little so somewhere in my bones I believe that every opportunity I get is rare and special thing and if I don’t take it now then I won’t ever get another one. Sometimes its exhausting but I can’t honestly say there is a list of things that I could have done that I didn’t? I have very little regrets in that regard.

---I am willing to see and recognized my flawed personality traits, but rarely ever actually do anything to fix them. I am a big of a believer in accepting yourself with all the flaws (part of the side effects of recovering from perfectionism) but that mentality has a different problem... in which you are so comfortable with the problems that you don’t have any desire to fix them? Yeah.

---Um, I have a major weakness for brown eyed, brunette girls and have fallen waaaay too hard for too many of them in my life for it to not be a thing (that Alex teases me relentlessly about). Honestly the list is long, but good news. Fiona is on that list. <3

---Potential. I have a weakness for potential, sometimes that manifests in craft materials. (Oh I could make this into this other thing!) So I have quite the collection of crafting hoards. I rarely buy plants when they are big because I am far more interested in getting a small plant because of it its potential to grow into something. I love love love love working in clay because there is just SO MUCH potential for it to become really ANYTHING???? Its amazing!!! Like, if you imagine in there is a way to make it real. And I am obsessed with that feeling.

--- I have a weakness for cream. I like half and half in my tea. I like whipped cream on my waffles. I like straight up cream on my strawberries. I like clotted cream on scones. I like creamy milkshakes. The creamiest of cheeses. If its a cream based sauce I’m in. Just. Cream.

SEVEN Things I Love:

I just now realized that there is a difference in the lists for “like” and “love” LOL there is no difference to me. I have no moderation, I either love something with my whole heart or not at all. So lets wax some poetry on things I have already listed, because the things I like I also love.

--- Okay, pottery, so like, Pottery is amazing??? Because you take dirt!!! like muddy gross squishy dirt!!!! and you mold it into something you like???? And then you FIRE IT!!! Like how metal is that???? You are creating something from DIRT. And on top of that, it lasts FOREVER. like, people hundreds of years from now are gonna be digging up our civilization and our computers are going to be dead, our papers and paintings: dead, our books? Hopefully not dead. But whats going to be left is our city foundations, our places, our trash and our shitty broken pots. And goddamn, I am obsessed with looking around our world and just IMAGINING what these people in the far off future are gonna think. And there isn’t a single piece of pottery that I make in which I am not thinking those exact thoughts and trying to imagine what that person in the future is going to be like when they find this.

--- And on that note, places are just so fricking cool. Because I grew up in a mono-culture where the majority of the population belonged to the same culture and the identity of the place was a direct reflection of the people. But other places have SO MUCH DIVERSITY and I am just amazed and inspired about how you can take SO MANY PEOPLE from SO MANY DIFFERENT CULTURES and pack them all into a city, and then that city becomes its own culture??? and has its own Identity??? Like, New Yorkers, those people come from fucking everywhere on the entire planet, and YET everyone knows there is a New York culture that is just agreed upon? And New York has an cohesive identity to how it functions, and how it works. Just. How amazing is that. And Minneapolis, jeez, bless Minneapolis. Because it has the midwestern identity but its developing one all on its own. And it doesn’t have a National presence yet, so in a lot of ways its just developing its identity for the world and its just so amazing to see all the different ways that people provide input on how they want their city to develop, and with each step it comes closer and closer to a face it wants to display to the world??? Its like, seeing a teenage, trying out who they want to be and developing them self to become a real adult. And goddamnit I want to see Minneapolis into a fully mature Nationally known city. I can’t wait.

---So plants, are like. The best therapy. Because plants don’t really talk, well okay I think they do, BUT PHYSICALLY, they don’t talk. And so in order to figure out what they need to you have to listen to them in a very different way then humans are used to?? You have to observe, and check-in and interact and just learn about a plant so that you can care for it. And I think thats exactly how humans are too, except we have this obnoxious thing called talking that sometimes make it difficult to actually figure out what is going on down below. Its easy for someone to say they are fine when they really are not. But plants don’t get to say that they are fine. When they suffer they do so silently and while they may want to scream for more water they have to let you know in other ways, drooping, changing color, dropping all its leaves in protest. And thats the other thing about plants too, is that every type of plant asks for help differently? How amazing is that. You have to get to know the plant on an individual level, there is no “one way fits all” fix-it for plant care. You have to know your plant. You don’t have to know all the plants in the world, just the ones you take into your care. And thats just so symbolic for me. And when I am taking care of my plants, I am taking care of myself too. Water for the plants, water for the Becca. Sunlight for the plants, sunlight for the Becca. Extra boost of fertilizer for the plants, extra boost of vitamins for the Becca. And I love my plants, even with their imperfections and wild ways of growing. Sometimes they get a whole lotta attitude in how they grow, and it isn’t picture perfect, but that doesn’t matter. Cause thats my plant! And its growing and thriving and I am so happy that its doing well! It doesn’t need to be the prettiest plant that ever existed. It just needs to live. And damn thats all I need.

---Purple is just an amazing color. Like everyone has heard the poetry talking about the richness and royalty and the history that the color purple has. But for me? Purple was a color I was immediately drawn to as a kid for no apparent reason but that I liked it. And I was not allowed, because the color purple was Barney colors and my parents were so very concerned that the other kids would torment me (spoilers, the kids found other reasons to torment me, and I was just denied being allowed to wear my favorite color). And then there was the instance of my grandmother, who, lets be honest, doesn’t win any “good grandparent” awards. And she LOATHS the color purple. Just thinks its really ugly. And took every chance to tell me that whenever I went shopping with her or if she wanted to get me a gift and was looking for input. So i went through all these stages when I was little, only being allowed to like pink, but then internalized misogyny said that was dumb so then I chose blue to be my favorite color while completely denying that what I wanted was purple. So yeah. By the time college came around and I was an “adult” (lol) I was just like. Fuck this shit no one can tell me what I am allowed to like and claimed purple for everything in my life. and I mean. e v e r y t h i n g. Backpack? Purple. Every piece of clothing I owned? Purple. Jackets? Purple. ipod? Purple. Does the object come in purple? Yes. Well then that is the correct answer. When I broke down and finally dyed my hair purple (like I have wanted to do since I was little, but again, I was not allowed and can you imagine being a non-mormon kid in the little valley with purple hair in high school??? Fuck I would have been the anti-christ of all sinners.) But in Minneapolis it seemed like it would be far more acceptable and wouldn’t result in immediate social disgrace. So I did it. I graduated my undergrad and dyed my hair purple because I could. And it changed my entire life. No more wall-flowering. No more hiding in the shadows praying no one notices that you don’t quite belong. No more pretending that you don’t exist so that people can walk all over you as they pass by. When you have a wildly different color hair, you have to own it. There is no “oh haha, whoops” about it. You made that decision, you put the color in your hair with that intention. And now its there to stay until you cut it all off. And that was the kick in the butt for me. That was the thing I need to own my own self and to lay claim to my voice. And for a while, it wasn’t easy. It was learning a whole new skillset. And there was definitely a major time span that was just “fake it until you make it”. But I kept faking it for the sake of my purple hair, because every time I looked into the mirror it made me so happy I could cry. I wasn’t looking a the mirror nitpicking my reflection any more. I was just joyful, because my hair was purple and I loved it. So every time someone made a comment whether it was good or bad, I would be dying on the inside from having the attention on me. But I would pull out the big ole grin of joy that I wasn’t really feeling and be like “Yeah isn’t it great! Its my favorite color!” And the good comments would be happy for me, and the bad comments would be thrown off by my enthusiasm and usually go away. And at one point that big joyful grin wasn’t just a farce, and now, 9 years later, working for the federal government and people try and make a jab at my hair, I can just laugh and tell them how much fun having colorful hair is. And that they should give it a try too.

#Becca rambles #Becca rants #Becca does a tag game #and writes a full essay instead #But tonight we were feeling reflective #and usually I would just journal but eh I am isolated enough right now #thought i would share whats going on in my brain #will absolutely delete later

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peterpumpkinparker · 5 years ago

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Shatter Me- Peter Parker x Starks Daughter! Reader

After the death of your father by the hands of Thanos, you are more than determined to risk everything to get the life you had before the Snap

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Hey lovelies! I’m so sorry it’s been so long since a story-I’ve just been so busy and hecktic with life! But hopefully I’ll be able to post more with summer vacation ☺️

Genre: Angst

Warning: mild cussing, some mentions of depression (not much, just some actions/ symptoms describe depression)

AU: Infinity War (but instead of Peter dying, Stark does)

Word Count: 2300

Also-sorry if this has wierd spacing, the mobile app of Tumblr is NOT enjoyable to use when trying to post a fic

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“Almost got it,” you mumbled, your mind completely overtaken on the task at hand. Your hands were sore and raw from working with the rough metal, the wires scratching your fingers, but you didn't cared.You didn’t care that you hadn’t eaten since yesterday. You didn’t care that you hadn’t talked to your friends, or your boyfriend Peter, in a month. You didn't care that you felt empty inside. That you had no life after what happened. That almost everything you loved was gone. Just getting it all back was what mattered to you.

You worked tirelessly in your dad’s old workshop, the Iron Man suits and parts laid around like he had last left it. It was yours now- well, until you got him back. All of them back.

The metal arm you were working on was almost complete, the exoskeleton reflecting your tired face. The dark circles around your eyes made you turn away, hating the world for giving you this momentous pain that you had to fix. The remaining Avengers had told you countless times that if you ever needed help, that they were there for you, that if you needed anything all you had to do was give them a call and they would show up. But what you really needed was your father-nobody could give you that except the monster that took it away from you.

And you knew they wouldn't help you with your plan try to defeat Thanos- you knew it was suicide to go on your own to defeat him- but you had to to at least try.

You continued to tinker on, not noticing the worried boy in the doorway. Peter stared at your arched back, your exhausted face, and wondered how he was going to even talk to you. Even though you and Peter were dating, you haven't called or seen him in weeks, and he just thought that maybe you were dealing with stuff beyond his control. Everyone mourns differently, he was dealing with it himself, but- he didnt realize it was this bad when Cap called him in. Now as he looked at you, he felt like he was staring at stranger; the snarky, smiling girl he once knew was seemingly lost in the ocean of grief she was quietly drowning in.

He knocked on the glass door, leaning on his shoulder to make it seem he was relaxed, but the clench in his jaw said otherwise.

Your head shot up, annoyance first riddled in you- but instantly disappearing once you realized Peter was the one that broke your concentration.

You brushed your hair out of the way, realizing you haven't washed it in a while.

“Hey,” you greeted aloud, your voice crackling a little from not using it in a while.

“Hey,” Peter repeated back. An awkward silence filled the room as you fumbled to tie up your hair in a quick bun. “Mind if I sit?” he asked, wondering how long you had been in here.

You shrugged your shoulders, and tried avoiding his gaze by inspecting a little bolt next to you.

Peter pulled up a chair next to you. “How are you holding up?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

You shrugged again. Saying too much would make him scared- too little would do the same thing. “Not amazing,” you sighed, “but nobody really is after what happened.”

Peter stared down at his hands. “That's true.”

Another awkward pause filled the air. You hated this. All of this. Everything was going great before- you and Peter had just started dating, and you guys had the best relationship ever. Stark was completely fine with it, even though he acted like he was super protective, you being his daughter. You guys were inseparable, always together, always able to tell each other anything and everything. Now, you couldn't even look at each other without feeling awkward, without feeling like you were back to Square 1. Everything just seemed so backward and messed up now, it was hard to wrap your head around fixing it. But you had to.

You turned away from Peter, putting in the last few bits and pieces into the metal arm. It was a crude weapon, built off of one of the unfinished inventions of your dad’s.

Peter began to look around the room, the awkwardness making him worry more. You used to be so bubbly and full of life, but now you had drawn into yourself, a shell of who you were. Peter didn't know how to bring you back out.

He looked around the workshop, noticing the disarray. There were objects everywhere, broken parts scattered on the floor, a makeshift bed in the corner, notes and paper strewn on different tables. He passed a desk, noticing the writing on the paper as yours. He picked it up, glancing up to see if you were watching. You were so intent in your thoughts, you didn't even notice Peter’s body leaving your side. He tentatively looked back at paper and at the words, the gibberious making him confused- all it talked about was about some weapon and the parts it needed. He turned the page, watching again to see if you were paying attention to him sneaking in your belongings before he looked. Once Peter finally looked down, he felt his heart sink- you had drafted up a replica of an Iron Man suit, with notes on the side for space travel. He looked at the notes in confusion, wondering why you would be go into space, until it hit him- your quiet moodiness, your concentration for building, your absence in any type of life outside you dad’s workshop. He realized you wanted revenge on your dad’s death.

He looked around, his heart beating frantically. Being Stark’s daughter, you were incredibly smart, so he didn't put it past you to make an Iron Man Suit, no less finish it in a month. He set down the paper as if it were a bomb about to ignite, and turned around, trying to see if you had finished the suit and left it somewhere. He had to see it for himself-he couldn’t believe that you would risk yourself so dangerously like this.

He began to walk again, looking for anything that resembled your drawing, until he came upon a tall object draped over with a brown tarp in a dimly light part of the workshop.

You looked up, the sound of Peter’s footsteps beginning to echo, which made your nerves tingle in annoyance. You loved Peter, you truly did, but right now, he was ruining valuable progress and wasting precious time. You watched him walk around the lab. You hoped that he didn’t realize what you were planning, and you lied to yourself that he didn’t. But deep down, you knew your deep connection with him was still there-he figured it all out before you even said a word.

You kept watching him, sadness turning into horror as you helplessly sat and watched as he raised a corner of the tarp-the tarp that hide your massive plan-and began to yell at him to stop. Instead, he ripped it off to reveal what you had been working on- a crude version of a Iron Man suit.

“Holy crap,” Peter breathed out in shock, his eyes wide as he looked at your guilty face.

He looked between you and the suit. “Did you…?” he asked hesitantly, pointing at it.

“I didn't exactly build it,” you said, answering his question sheeplessly. “They’re pieces of my Dad’s suits that he never really finished. I just pieced them together to make,” you raised your hand at your creation, “this.” Your hand came down, slapping your outer thigh,the sound ringing in the silence as Peter gawked and you sat back wearily,waiting for his reaction.

He swallowed, looking back at your creation. “So does it really work like an Iron Man suit?” He didn't want to ask you straight out your plans, because he didn't want you getting angry at him for snooping in your things. But leading you to saying it sounded a little better than being blunt at that moment.

“I dont know for sure,” you explained, your hands shaking, “but it should. I've learned enough from my dad just watching him make his suits. It took me forever though, and it's definitely not like his suits- its not as sturdy, but it should be okay if the power source is not tampered with. If thats broken,” you laughed sarcastically, “all hell breaks loose in it.”

“How do you know that?” he asked curiously, his arms folding in front of them stiffly.

“Well,” you smiled a little, “ I tried to readjust the router through the chest on time- thats were it at- and I got shot across the room like a rag doll.”

You two laughed, it being a little forced, but the air felt so strange that any type of dry humor was appreciated. You guys felt like total strangers, yet you knew each other’s secrets- Peter being a superhero, you at the moment, building a massively technological machine under cover for the past month.

But after the little bit of light heartedness it went back to tension and awkwardness.

Peter stuffed his hands into his pockets. “This is really- intuitive- and amazing y/n,” he smiled with concern, “but why?”

You sighed, dreading the question you knew he would ask. You looked down into your lap, rubbing the red mark on your thigh.

“My father died Peter. And almost everyone he knew, and I knew, are gone.Nobody has tried to do anything. Everyone's giving up. And nobody wants to try to fix this mess except me. So this is how I'm going to fix it”

Peter listened to you, scared at what you said. He was hoping that maybe this was a joke, that you werent really planning to go out and get revenge, but you were. Peter stared at you, trying to read your emotions. He had never seen you like this- so low yet so determined at the same time- and he was worried for you. terrified.

“What are you planning y/n?” he asked, his brown eyes boring into yours.

You looked back at your work table. “Nothing, Peter.”

‘Its doesnt look like nothing, though.”

“It's nothing.” you said with force, frustration spilling out.

“If you don't tell me y/n, Im going to tell the Avengers.”

“Like they care!” you spat angrily at him. “Like they ever cared! Ive been down here for God knows how long, trying to get back the life I had, trying to fix everything, and they havent done jack shit”

You knew everything you were saying was false and wrong. Natasha had been the one bringing you food and made you the make shift bed you sleep and eat in. Steve came to ask if you needed to talk every Friday without fail. Rhodey gave you the news that your father died, and gave Peoper and you his mask-and hugged you as you cried from the shock of losing your father. They did care and they were trying-it just felt good to yell at something, anything. You were angry that you didn’t have your father, and you were impatient for everything to be back as it was.

You shook your head, anger raditating off your body.

“Absolutely nothing! they haven't figured out a damn plan either. And if they had, they haven't let me in the loop.”

“Y/n their going to fix this,” Peter tried to reason.

“No. I'm going to fix this.”

Peter stared at you in disbelief, not really knowing you anymore. You were never this lost in your own head. He understood you were going through a lot of pain, but going after Thanos was usicide.

Peter stared at the contraption, contemplating what to do.

“Nobody has thought of a new plan,” you continued, “it's time for a change. Im sick of waking up every morning, and realizing everyone is gone. Im sick of waking up and feeling guilty- Like I couldve done something.”

“ I shouldve done something.” you said, almost saying it to yourself.

Peter felt empathy swarming his body. How could he tell you he felt the same way?

“But, y/n- you couldn't have done anything that day. None of us could- we all tried our best.”

“Really?” you countered angrily. “I did shit- I literally stayed home and watch my dad fly onto that weird spaceship. I watched you leave. Did I leave? No. You know why?

Tears began to brim in your eyes, your lids binking rapidly to hold them back.

“You know why?” you repeated, your tone getting smaller as your voice cracked, “because I was scared. You breathed out heavily, letting that new realization hit you like a ton of bricks. You didn’t want to admit this to yourself, but it was true to you. The day Thanos and his warriors came, you stayed back. The one time your dad yelled at you to stay back, you listened. You never listened to your dad-you always were the first to fly in and help save the day. But the one time your dad truly needed you, the one time the whole universe needed help, you didn’t do that. Seeing those aliens and that ships freaked you out- you were terrified you’d actually lose your life that time. And because of that, you didn’t die-but your dad was gone. You worked tirelessly every day to keep that evil secret away from your mind because it was too hard to come face to face with-now you had to work to fix that fatal mistake.

“I was scared because I had no idea what to do. I wanted to help, but I was too selfish about my own safety. I could have grabbed one of my Dads suits. I couldve flew up there with you guys. I could've helped. But I didn't.”

You looked up shaking your head, your lips pursed as you tred to will your body to hold back the tears.

Peter walked to you, his arms open and welcoming, but his expression full of pain. Every day he felt the same pain- that he could’ve done something more to save everyone he loved. It was the worst pain he ever felt in his life- it ate his insides, anytime it was quiet, anytime he allowed himself to relax; that guilt and sorrow and hate for his actions at that time ate his insides until he felt like screaming. Some days were better than others, and he'd been learning to cope with it. But he just never realized you were dealing with the same thing. And so much of it.

You looked at Peter, your lips quivering as a single tear spilled onto your cheeks. You looked down at your hands, terrified that talking more to Peter would make you break down. You had broken down so much in the last month that you thought that one more would destroy you.

Peter knelt down, eye level to you, sweeping the hair out of your face that was curtaining off your tear stained cheeks.

“Its okay, y/n,” peter said softly, “Youre okay.”

You looked up, your eyes full of pain. You shook your head, chuckling sarcastically as your smile quivered.

“Im not,” you whispered out of your throat, your voice tight with the effort of keeping yourself together. To not cry. To not show that life was really messing you up right now.

Peter wrapped his arms around you, the purity of the embrace and the warmth of his body making your shoulders shudder harder, your hiccups louder, your heart hurt more and less at the same time as you wrapped your arms around him. The waves of tears wracked your body,one after aother, the pain making you hurt. You grabbed the back of his shirt, the fabric balled up into your fist as you let all your emotions leave your body.

‘Its okay y/n,” Peter whispered, his voice low and soothing, “eveyrthing’s going to be okay. I know you wont believe me right now, but- youre going to be okay.”

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Requests open! If you’d like, Check the blurb list and send me a # and I’ll do your request as soon as possible!

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If you want to tagged, please msg me! I’m happy to tag you in all future fics!

@just4muggles

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Happy a great night (or day) lovelies! I’ll see you in the next fic ❤️

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theskyrimlibrary · 4 years ago

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A Dance in Fire, v1

A Dance in Fire Chapter 1

by Waughin Jarth

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Scene: The Imperial City, Cyrodiil Date: 7 Frost Fall, 3E 397

It seemed as if the palace had always housed the Atrius Building Commission, the company of clerks and estate agents who authored and notarized nearly every construction of any note in the Empire. It had stood for two hundred and fifty years, since the reign of the Emperor Magnus, a plain-fronted and austere hall on a minor but respectable plaza in the Imperial City. Energetic and ambitious middle-class lads and ladies worked there, as well as complacent middle-aged ones like Decumus Scotti. No one could imagine a world without the Commission, least of all Scotti. To be accurate, he could not imagine a world without himself in the Commission.

“Lord Atrius is perfectly aware of your contributions,” said the managing clerk, closing the shutter that demarcated Scotti’s office behind him. “But you know that things have been difficult.”

“Yes,” said Scotti, stiffly.

“Lord Vanech’s men have been giving us a lot of competition lately, and we must be more efficient if we are to survive. Unfortunately, that means releasing some of our historically best but presently underachieving senior clerks.”

“I understand. Can’t be helped.”

“I’m glad that you understand,” smiled the managing clerk, smiling thinly and withdrawing. “Please have your room cleared immediately.”

Scotti began the task of organizing all his work to pass on to his successor. It would probably be young Imbrallius who would take most of it on, which was as it should be, he considered philosophically. The lad knew how to find business. Scotti wondered idly what the fellow would do with the contracts for the new statue of St Alessia for which the Temple of the One had applied. Probably invent a clerical error, blame it on his old predecessor Decumus Scotti, and require an additional cost to rectify.

“I have correspondence for Decumus Scotti of the Atrius Building Commission.”

Scotti looked up. A fat-faced courier had entered his office and was thrusting forth a sealed scroll. He handed the boy a gold piece, and opened it up. By the poor penmanship, atrocious spelling and grammar, and overall unprofessional tone, it was manifestly evident who the writer was. Liodes Jurus, a fellow clerk some years before, who had left the Commission after being accused of unethical business practices.

“Dear Sckotti,

I emagine you alway wondered what happened to me, and the last plase you would have expected to find me is out in the woods. But thats exactly where I am. Ha ha. If your’e smart and want to make lot of extra gold for Lord Atrius (and yourself, ha ha), youll come down to Vallinwood too. If you have’nt or have been following the politics hear lately, you may or may not know that ther’s bin a war between the Boshmer and there neighbors Elswere over the past two years. Things have only just calm down, and ther’s a lot that needs to be rebuilt.

Now Ive got more business than I can handel, but I need someone with some clout, someone representing a respected agencie to get the quill in the ink. That somone is you, my fiend. Come G meat me at the M’ther Paskos Tavern in Falinnesti, Vallinwood. Ill be here 2 weeks and you wont be sorrie.

- - Jurus

P.S.: Bring a wagenload of timber if you can.”

“What do you have there, Scotti?” asked a voice.

Scotti started. It was Imbrallius, his damnably handsome face peeking through the shutters, smiling in that way that melted the hearts of the stingiest of patrons and the roughest of stonemasons. Scotti shoved the letter in his jacket pocket.

“Personal correspondence,” he sniffed. “I’ll be cleared up here in a just a moment.”

“I don’t want to hurry you,” said Imbrallius, grabbing a few sheets of blank contracts from Scotti’s desk. “I’ve just gone through a stack, and the junior scribes hands are all cramping up, so I thought you wouldn’t miss a few.”

The lad vanished. Scotti retrieved the letter and read it again. He thought about his life, something he rarely did. It seemed a sea of gray with a black insurmountable wall looming. There was only one narrow passage he could see in that wall. Quickly, before he had a moment to reconsider it, he grabbed a dozen of the blank contracts with the shimmering gold leaf ATRIUS BUILDING COMMISSION BY APPOINTMENT OF HIS IMPERIAL MAJESTY and hid them in the satchel with his personal effects.

The next day he began his adventure with a giddy lack of hesitation. He arranged a sear in a caravan bound for Valenwood, the single escorted conveyance to the southeast leaving the Imperial City that week. He had scarcely hours to pack, but he remembered to purchase a wagonload of timber.

“It will be extra gold to pay for a horse to pull that,” frowned the convoy head.

“So I anticipated,” smiled Scotti with his best Imbrallius grin.

Ten wagons in all set off that afternoon through the familiar Cyrodilic countryside. Past fields of wildflowers, gently rolling woodlands, friendly hamlets. The clop of the horses’ hooves against the sound stone road reminded Scotti that the Atrius Building Commission constructed it. Five of the eighteen necessary contracts for its completion were drafted by his own hand.

“Very smart of you to bring that wood along,” said a gray-whiskered Breton man next to him on his wagon. “You must be in Commerce.”

“Of a sort,” said Scotti, in a way he hoped was mysterious, before introducing himself: “Decumus Scotti.”

“Gryf Mallon,” said the man. “I’m a poet, actually a translator of old Bosmer literature. I was researching some newly discovered tracts of the Mnoriad Pley Bar two years ago when the war broke out and I had to leave. You are no doubt familiar with the Mnoriad, if you’re aware of the Green Pact.”

Scotti thought the man might be speaking perfect gibberish, but he nodded his head.

“Naturally, I don’t pretend that the Mnoriad is as renowned as the Meh Ayleidion, or as ancient as the Dansir Gol, but I think it has a remarkable significance to understanding the nature of the merelithic Bosmer mind. The origin of the Wood Elf aversion to cutting their own wood or eating any plant material at all, yet paradoxically their willingness to import plantstuff from other cultures, I feel can be linked to a passage in the Mnoriad,” Mallon shuffled through some of his papers, searching for the appropriate text.

To Scotti’s vast relief, the carriage soon stopped to camp for the night. They were high on a bluff over a gray stream, and before them was the great valley of Valenwood. Only the cry of seabirds declared the presence of the ocean to the bay to the west: here the timber was so tall and wide, twisting around itself like an impossible knot begun eons ago, to be impenetrable. A few more modest trees, only fifty feet to the lowest branches, stood on the cliff at the edge of the camp. The sight was so alien to Scotti and he found himself so anxious about the proposition of entering the wilderness that he could not imagine sleeping.

Fortunately, Mallon had supposed he had found another academic with a passion for the riddles of ancient cultures. Long into the night, he recited Bosmer verse in the original and in his own translation, sobbing and bellowing and whispering wherever appropriate. Gradually, Scotti began to feel drowsy, but a sudden crack of wood snapping made him sit straight up.

“What was that?”

Mallon smiled: “I like it too. ‘Convocation in the malignity of the moonless speculum, a dance of fire --’”

“There are some enormous birds up in the trees moving around,” whispered Scotti, pointing in the direction of the dark shapes above.

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” said Mallon, irritated with his audience. “Now listen to how the poet characterizes Herma-Mora’s invocation in the eighteenth stanza of the fourth book.”

The dark shapes in the trees were some of them perched like birds, others slithered like snakes, and still others stood up straight like men. As Mallon recited his verse, Scotti watched the figures softly leap from branch to branch, half-gliding across impossible distances for anything without wings. They gathered in groups and then reorganized until they had spread to every tree around the camp. Suddenly, they plummeted from the heights.

“Mara!” cried Scotti. “They’re falling like rain!”

“Probably seed pods,” Mallon shrugged, not turning around. “Some of the trees have remarkable - - “

The camp erupted into chaos. Fires burst out in the wagons, the horses wailed from mortal blows, casks of wine, fresh water, and liquor gushed their contents to the ground. A nimble shadow dashed past Scotti and Mallon, gathering sacks of grain and gold with impossible agility and grace. Scotti had only one glanced at it, lit up by a sudden nearby burst of flame. It was a sleek creature with pointed ears, wide yellow eyes, mottled pied fur and a tail like a whip.

“Werewolf,” he whimpered, shrinking back.

“Cathay-raht,” groaned Mallon. “Much worse. Khajiti cousins or some such thing, come to plunder.”

“Are you sure?”

As quickly as they struck, the creatures retreated, diving off the bluff before the battlemage and knight, the caravan’s escorts, had fully opened their eyes. Mallon and Scotti ran to the precipice and saw a hundred feet below the tiny figures dash out of the water, shake themselves, and disappear into the wood.

“Werewolves aren’t acrobats like that,” said Mallon. “They were definitely Cathay-raht. Bastard thieves. Thank Stendarr they didn’t realize the value of my notebooks. It wasn’t a complete loss.”

✲•······················▃🖋️······················•✲

#a dance in fire #a dance in fire v1 #skyrim #skyrim books #the elder scrolls #the elder scrolls v #the elder scrolls v skyrim

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minerva26love · 6 years ago

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Just Say His Name Part 1

So this happened to me now for a third time, you think i would have learned my lesson. I wrote a whole lot of this story and the draft didnt save so now i must write this all over again. I may make this 3 parts im not sure yet. If you enjoyed my story please like and reblog!!! This is based off of an old english myth!

Warning: Some language, Smut will be coming soon, some mention of Domestic Violence but very small. If alot of people like this story i will keep writing! I wanted to see how this one turned out.

The vibrations of the train were making my eyes close even more. It has been a long ride and i have almost made it to London. Its about a two and a half hour long train ride. It was just me and Rory my cat on this journey. I am coming from Paris, i went to school there and lived with my family. A couple of days ago my parents got an letter saying that they had an urgent meeting with some Aurors downtown. After said meeting they were told they needed to go on a trip with more Aurors out of the country. I was of course not able to attend. My mother was talking to my Aunt on the phone, my cousin Lilly attends Hogwarts. They were very excited and offered for me to stay with them while they were away. This is unfortunately a two year mission. Going in my bag i looked back at my ticket to remind myself where i am going so i dont miss my stop. Kings Cross Station Platform 9 and 3 Quarters. I sigh as i lean my head on the window.

“Kings Cross Station next! ETA 5 minutes.” The train conductor yells as he goes through the train cars. I take a glance at Rory who is sleeping next to me.

“Well Rory it looks like we arent in Paris anymore.” It is our third year LIlly and i, I am very excited about the next two years but also very excited. The train comes to a halt and the Whistle blows. I gather everything and Rory. The train conductor puts my luggage on my cart and tips his hat. He leaves me alone and surrounded by people. Lots of people hurrying to catch their trains, whistles blowing and lots of carts. Frantically,i start looking for Lilly or my Aunt.

“(Y,N)!” Sighing in relief i turn around to see my Aunt, Uncle and Lilly standing with a sign that says Welcome to London. I push my cart towards them and run to give them all a hug. “Its so nice to see you dear!” My Uncle takes my cart and they lead me to the car.

“Its so nice to see you all too!”We all get to the car and start driving to their house. “Thank you again for taking me in, mum and dad really appreciate it.”

“Of course! We are all very excited!”

“My friends are also very excited to meet you. They are the ones i take to you on the phone about,”

“Ah, yes Peter, Sirius, Remus and oh yeah how could i forget James.” Her parents laugh. Lilly blushes. The Car takes a turn on the next street. In the Yard you see 4 boys and a girl hanging out in the yard. I was assuming they were waiting for Lilly to get home. The car turned into long driveway and we all exited the car. A kind of tall boy with glass ran to Lilly and gave her a hug,

“Lilly pop how are you my darling?” Her face turns red with embarrassment.

“Ah, you must be James.” He smiles and shakes my hand. The rest of the group caught up with James, they all hugged Lilly.

“(Y/N), this is James, Peter, Sirius, Alice and Remus.” I wave

“Its so nice to meet all of you, Lilly has told me so much about you all. More about James than anyone.” James high fives Sirius meanwhile Lilly punches me on the arm. “Ow, asshole.” My Uncle gets my bags as we walk up the driveway. Her house was lovely, all brick house with a wrap around porch. Inside was just as grand as the outside. When walking inside there is a formal sitting area and formal dinning room. I followed everyone to the main living room area. It was a very large space and the kitchen was in it as well. “Lilly what is that amazing smell?”

“That my dear is my famous Chocolate Chip Cookies. Im reheating them for you all. Lilly why dont you go show (Y,N) her new room. The reset of you may go outside and play Quidditch-”

“Yes!” Sirius and James cheered.

“Without breaking anything please.” The group left to go to the backyard, Remus was the last to leave, he looked at me softly before heading out back. After he left i had the weirdest feeling i have never felt before. I barely knew this boy yet i longed for him to come back. I was drawn to him. I shook it off and headed upstairs to my new room. The room was nice, it had light blue walls, and a fluffy white rug in the middle of the room. I had a bed, desk, and bookshelf. I hugged Lilly. She was surprised at first then hugged me back. She understood that this was really hard for me not being with my parents. I was still waiting for an owl to come to let me know they made it ok. My cat Rory seemed to bed doing ok as well. Sleeping in a tall cat tree right by the window so he can watch the cars drive by. We went back downstairs and walked to the back porch. Lilly ran up to the group excited to play.

“Come on Remus how many times have you read that book?” Sirius yelled

“This happens to be my favorite book, and at least i can read better than you.” Remus smirked

“At least i can read better.” Sirius mocked.

I was never a fan of sports and i have never played Quidditch. I was standing near a table and chairs on the porch where Remus was sitting. I took a glance without him noticing at the book he was reading.

“To love or have loved, that is enough. Ask nothing further.-” i quoted

“ There is no other pearl to be found in the dark folds of life.” Remus finished the quote. “Thats right.” He smiles up at me. He gestures me to sit down. When i sit by him i feel heavy, Im so drawn to him. “Im assuming you read, and you have great taste in books.” I smile and push a piece of hair behind my ear but it falls again. This time Remus puts it behind my ear and it stays in place. All i think when i look at him is just how bad i want to jump him. “(Y/N)? You ok?” I zone back in.

“Yeah sorry, what were you saying.” He laughed and continued.

“Whats your favorite book.?” I bit my lip to think, I have never really had an absolute favorite.

“Well your holding one of them and Pride and Prejudice.”

“Thats not a bad book either. What else do you like to do for fun?” I bit my lip again, i have no idea who this boy is and yet im so nervous around him. “Did you notice that you bit your lip when you are thinking.” I blush in embarrassment. Before i was going to say something he interrupted. “I think its adorable.” Im sure my face was super red now.

“Hey (Y,N) Do you want to- why is your face so read?” Remus chuckles as he leans back and continues his book. I look towards him, he winks at me then continues to read.

“Its just hot out here. I am not a huge fan of sports but i will for sure watch,” Lilly shrugged and went to go play. The picked teams, they were now up in the air playing. Sirius had the ball the passed it to James. James threw it in the hoop but the ball landed near one of Lilly’s moms flower pots. The pot went into many different pieces. Everyone in the air and on ground were silent.

“Please Merlin she didnt hear.”

“James and Sirius!” My Aunt yells.

“We will go clean it up.” Everyone laughs,

“Is there a time when they dont break something?”

“Almost every time they break something dear, however this time it was just a flower pot and not our window.” My Aunt explained as she put the cookies on the table. “Last time they broke my window and James’s parents payed for a new one. Ive never seen James so terrified, Remus had the pleasure of watching that one unfold.” Remus chuckled and shook his head.

“What did Sirius’s parents say.” She paused as she placed a pitcher of Lemonade on the table. “Ok we dont talk about his parents, got it.”

“Mrs. Evans is not of fan of his parents. Sirius hasnt been back home since the summer going into his second year. James’s family took him in.” I looked over at Sirius with a sad look. He was pushing James to the ground laughing. He looked so happy though. Coming from a horrible household you think he would be an asshole. “I know what your thinking, he is upset about his family but at the same time he found a better family here. Hes a nice boy.” Remus looked back up at her. She got the hint, winked and went inside.

“That was an interesting look you gave her.” He smirked

“I just dont think hes your type.” I raised my eyebrow at him. This boy dont even know me. But whats weird is that hes right.

“Oh really well whats my type?”

“You date nice boys, well you started dating a type like Sirius but it didnt go well. Now you arent really looking right now nervous how the next boy will be.” He was right but it brought back memories i didnt need. I stood up, went inside and slammed the porch door. Aunt tried to stop me but i was already half way up the stairs. I think Remus means well but what he doesnt know is my last relationship ended with me in the hospital and being a werewolf for the rest of my life.

@thenaturaldisaster@th3maraud3rsmap @rougerazors @rainandhotchocolate

#remus x reader #werewolf #remus x reader smut #smut #marauders era

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gimmeyoon · 6 years ago

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You’ve Become My Favorite Sin [6]

Alternatively Titled: Heavenly Way to Die

Pairing: Jungkook x Male OC | Angel!Jimin x femdemon!reader

Ratings/Warnings: M for Mature. Cursing, drinking, smut (oral), and Homophobic slurs. Main character death. Also, contains religious themes.

Word Count: 5.9 k

A/N: Most of this chapter is backstory for Jungkook’s character, but the end does switch back to the present, so you could read this without the first 5 parts but the end will be very confusing. Also, I wanted to do male reader, but I thought that having two people named _____ might be confusing, so please feel free to get rid of Henry and replace it with your name if you’re a male reader looking for some love thank you thats all

Songs: Mercy / Gatekeeper by Hayley Kiyoko, Sanctify by Years & Years, and What A Heavenly Way to Die by Troye Sivan

Summary: When Jimin started questioning his place in the world as an angel, you took it upon yourself to show him the darker side of life. Suddenly, falling from grace doesn’t seem so bad.

Previous | Next

Paris, France: 1947

Jungkook wasn’t exactly sure how he had ended up at this bar. Earlier in the night his intention had been to get soused and judging by the way he felt, he had reached that goal.

The night had gotten off to a rough start, him almost immediately having to deal with some fat-head American whose mission in life must be to attack any and all Japanese men who he runs into. Jungkook was used to this, he had been dealing with it for years now, so he silently pulled his Korean American identification card out of his wallet and presented it with his right hand to the man. His left hand presented the man his middle finger.

The fat-head apologized for his slur while Jungkook made note of his uniform. Jungkook still maintained his silence as he pulled his dog tags out from underneath his shirt.

“Wow I’m an ass,” the fat-head said. “What branch?”

“Army,” Jungkook replied as he turned back to his drink. “Would have done national guard, but they found out I could speak Japanese, so they didn’t give me a choice.”

“I’m army as well. National guard is for pussies anyways.”

“My older brother was national guard, so I would rethink that.”

“Shit, I’m sorry. Listen man, me and some GIs are having some drinks over here, and you’re welcome to join us.”

Jungkook looked over to where he pointed and weighed his options. On one hand, he was perfectly content drinking alone until he couldn’t see straight. On the other, he had to admit this was becoming a depressing routine. So, he decided to join them.

Jungkook never much liked being in the military. He and his brother had enlisted with the only other Korean American in their neighborhood. He had told them about this thing called the Tiger Brigade, a Los Angeles Korean Reserve, and they figured it was a good enough way to fulfill their draft requirement with the least risk to their life. The plan worked for everyone but Jungkook, who probably should have lied when they asked if he knew Japanese. Nevertheless, he passed the test and they shipped him to the Pacific. Sometimes when he laid in bed hoping for sleep to overtake him, he wished that he hadn’t let his grandmother teach him Japanese. He wished that he had ignored her like his brother.

But he didn’t.

“Did you develop a soul while you were gone, Fitz?” one of the GIs sitting at the table greeted as Jungkook and apparently Fitz approached the table.

“Turns out, he’s Korean,” Fitz shrugged as he slid into the booth. “and a GI like us.”

Jungkook slid into the booth after Fitz, as the other GIs ragged on their friend. He began to nervously stroke the rabbit’s foot that he kept clipped to his belt loop. His mom had given him it before he had left for the Pacific and it calmed his nerves.

From what Jungkook could gather, he and Fitz were the only two of the group that had served in the Pacific leg of the war. As was to be expected in Paris, most of these men had served in the European tour.

“I heard they gave those cards out, but I’ve never seen one,” Fitz said. “Anyways, I’d like to make a toast to our new friend.” Fitz smiled as he turned to Jungkook. “Success to our army, success to our fleet, may our foes be compelled to bow down at our feet. Here’s to – uh,” Fitz chuckled. “What’s your name?”

“You can call me Kook.”

“Kook,” Fitz laughed. “Here’s to Kook, here’s to French women, may these girls be compelled to let him come in ‘em.”

The table broke out into howling laughter as they raised their glasses.

As far as Kook could tell that was hours ago. Now Kook was here with one of the GIs, who he thinks might be called Lazy Eye but there was also a high probability that Jungkook had called him that himself in his head, because he did in fact have a lazy eye. He dare not actually call the guy that just in case it was a horrible insult he had devised on his own time.

There were three things that had struck Jungkook odd about this bar:

They had asked him for his age when he entered, which was odd because there was no drinking age as far as he knew, and if there was one, he was well over it.

Jungkook had not seen a girl enter this establishment the entire time he had been here.

Several men had bought him drinks since he had sat down.

Lazy Eye had not taken kindly to the older men approaching them and buying Jungkook drinks, which had brought the latter back to his earlier confusion. How had he gotten here?

“Where are we?” Jungkook asked as he leaned over to Lazy Eye.

“Saint-Germain-des-Prés.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. Lazy eye was dumb as well it seemed. “The bar not the quarter.”

“The bar doesn’t have a name.”

“Fuck off,” Jungkook sighed. “Did you bring me here to kill me?”

Lazy Eye laughed. “This place doesn’t have a name because you can’t tell the cops where you were last night if it doesn’t have a name.”

“Sorry, I didn’t realize we drank our way back to America in the 1920s.” Jungkook said as he finished off his whiskey. He had to fight the urge to see if any of those old guys were coming back to buy him another drink. It was weird, but he couldn’t say he minded how full his wallet felt.

“You want another,” Lazy Eye asked, as if reading his mind.

“Don’t worry about it, buddy. We should at least see if there’s any more pennies from heaven.”

“Oh, so, you’re looking for a papa-gâteau.”

Jungkook furrowed his brow as he tried to piece together the little bit of French he knew. “Dad cake?”

“I believe it translates to sugar daddy.”

“Oh fuck, this is a gay bar.”

Lazy Eye laughed as Jungkook ran his hands over his face. The latter stood up quickly and went to leave, when Lazy Eye reached out to grab his wrist.

“You are gay, right?”

“Why the fuck would you think I’m a fag like you,” Jungkook spat back.

“Not in here, asshole,” Lazy Eye stood up and looked Jungkook square in the eyes. “Just to be clear, you sure as hell didn’t mind taking drinks from 3 different guys in here, so I wouldn’t act like the thought completely disgusts you.” Lazy eye looked him up and down. “Get the fuck out of here.”

Jungkook stood stunned as Lazy Eye sat down. He wasn’t a fighter and as he looked around the bar, it because clear that his explosion had not gone unnoticed. Grabbing his jacket, Jungkook quickly exited the building and walked down the street. Fuck if he knew how to get home.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite souse,” Henry smiled as he opened the door to Jungkook who had forgotten his keys in their apartment for the second time that week.

“Sorry Henry,” Jungkook slurred as he stumbled past his best friend. After the incident at the not named bar, the drinks had hit him much harder than he had anticipated.

“Thought you might be on active duty tonight,” Henry said, ignoring Jungkook’s apology. “Couldn’t bear to be without me.”

Jungkook, who had found refuge on their couch at this point, grabbed one of the pillows and threw it at his friend.

“Don’t take your lack of sex out on Alma’s pillows,” Henry smiled as he walked over to Jungkook and placed the pillow back on the couch.

“Alma can – she can-”

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t like Alma.” Henry sat down beside Jungkook on the couch. The two friends say in comfortable silence, as Jungkook took deep breaths to regain his composure.

Jungkook had come to Paris to be with Henry. The two men had grown up together, living on the same street in San Francisco. They had been best friends since the first time Henry choose Jungkook to be on his team in baseball. It had been the right choice, as Jungkook was naturally athletic, but the other kids often didn’t pick him because he was Korean. Henry picked him first.

After the European leg of the war Ended, Henry wrote to Jungkook and told him that he should find his way to Paris after he beat the Japanese. He had said there were three French girls to every man in Paris and they had a penchant for the exotic. Jungkook had informed Henry that he didn’t like being called exotic, but he did like girls, so he might just take him up on that offer. Two years later and here they were sitting on the couch that Henry’s mom had bought them with the pillows Alma had bought when she visited.

Alma lived on their street growing up as well, and Henry had always been in love with her. Alma had always been in love with other men, which was why Jungkook was not fond of her. He had watched Henry be a lovesick puppy about her for 14 years now, and it had only gotten more depressing.

“Speaking of Alma,” Henry said, breaking the silence. “She wrote again.”

Jungkook sighed. “She’s bad news, Hen.”

Henry shook his head. “She broke up with that asshole, Mel.”

“Sure, and next week she’ll be with a new asshole.”

“She broke you with him three months ago,” Henry smiled as he looked down at his hands. “She said she loves me and wants me to come home. That she should have made me come back with her last time she visited.”

“She loves you?” Jungkook scoffed as he stood up from the couch. “You’re going to get on a plane for that floozy and she’s going to be back together with Mel by the time you set foot in California.”

“Don’t be like this.”

“Like what, your best friend? Would you prefer it if I lied to you and let you get on that plane like a fat-head.”

“If you were my best friend, then you would know how badly I have wanted this for my entire life,” Henry said as he stood up.

“Oh, get bent! I’ve watched you pine after Alma since I became your friend and she hasn’t been interested in you once. Now she loves you? Were you doing dope while I was gone?”

“Can’t you just be happy for me?”

“I would be more than happy to watch you marry a nice French girl, maybe settle down in the countryside, have some French speaking brats, but going back to San Francisco will be the biggest mistake of your life.”

“No, the biggest mistake of my life was inviting you to live with me.”

Jungkook recoiled as if he had been hit. Henry sighed before reaching out to him, seeming to instantly regret his words, but Jungkook pulled away from his friend.

“As stated, previously, get bent,” Jungkook said as he pushed past his best friend to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. He quickly surveyed the room for something to break and settled on pushing the books off of the top his dresser. They fell to the floor with a thud and Jungkook joined them there. He pulled his knees to his chest, took the rabbit’s foot off his belt loop, and gripped it tightly in his hand. He tried to stop the tears that were forming in the corner of his eyes from falling. If he hadn’t been drinking, maybe he would have known that Henry only said that because he was angry, but it didn’t feel that way. It felt like years of knowing that Henry was too good of a friend to him were finally culminating in the realization that he had never been his friend at all.

There was a light knock at the door, but Jungkook didn’t answer. He knew who it was, and if he knew Henry it wouldn’t matter either way. The door was going to be opened.

“I’m sorry,” said Henry as the door creaked open. “I didn’t mean that. You’re my brother and I love you.”

Jungkook nodded his head but didn’t turn to face Henry. His friend walked into the room and stood in front of Jungkook, causing the latter to bury his face in his knees. He felt like a child, but he also couldn’t face Henry looking so upset.

“I’ll wait a little while, make her write a few more letters before I hop on a plane, okay? Will that make you feel better about this whole thing.”

No, but Jungkook didn’t want this interaction to go on any longer. In fact, if he had it his way he would be able to magically make a bottle of whiskey appear in his hands. That would be his dream ending to this interaction.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know, and I respect you for that. You’re a good friend, always have been,” Henry nudged Jungkook’s foot with his own, causing the latter to look up at him. Jungkook was greeted with a smile.

“Okay,” Jungkook sighed.

Jungkook was absolutely sure how he ended up in the no name bar this time. Henry had gotten another letter from Alma and he had wanted to read it verbatim to him. So Jungkook listened and he counted each word that he was absolutely certain was a lie and decided that he would do a shot for each one. He was four shots in at this point and had been put on hold for a short period of time by the bartender.

The no name bar was probably a mistake, but he figured that he could convince some of the older men to buy some of the shots he had made a personal promise to down tonight and that would make his wallet very happen. He was less happy to note that he had been thinking about the establishment since his fat-headed exit last time. He felt bad about how he treated Lazy Eye.

So, there he sat on the bar stool in a gay bar with no name because such an establishment was not always welcome. It had to be private, like the army Jungkook realized. Otherwise it was a crime.

“Silver over there wanted me to give this to you.”

Jungkook looked up and was surprised to see a woman in front of him. He quickly looked up and down the bar for Hal, the bartended that had been serving him drinks all night. When Hal was not found, he returned to the women in front of him.

“You’re new,” he said, as he took the shot from her. He threw the liquid down his throat before passing the small glass back to her

“So are you.”

“How do you know that?”

She smiled, and there was something in her smile that made Jungkook feel uneasy. There was more to it, but he couldn’t tell what it was.

“Well, because you’re wrong. I’m not new. I love this place.”

Jungkook nodded his head, mostly hoping for this conversation to be over. There was something about this woman that made him both want to look away and also never look at anything else ever again. Whatever it was made him uncomfortable and would be more than enough reason to never come back here again.

“You love him,” she said, causing Jungkook’s brow to furrow.

“Silver? I don’t even know him, and he’s not really my type.”

“That’s true. Your type is your age, from San Francisco, air force pilot, madly in love with a girl you absolutely hate, and named Henry.”

Jungkook’s draw nearly dropped open as he stared at the women. “Seutokeo,” he barely whispered.

The woman smiled as she leaned in closer to Jungkook. “Agma,” she returned in a whisper.

Jungkook recoiled at her words. Demon. This was not happening. Clearly, he had too much to drink and he was hallucinating now.

“_____, nice to meet you, Jungkook.”

“How the fuck do you know all of this?”

“I just told you I was a demon, so I can only assume you are asking for a more detailed description. Very well, my dogs stay posted in this lovely establishment, and you caused quite a scene, so they followed you home. It was compelling.”

“You’re a crazy person,” Jungkook said as he stood up from his seat. He quickly turned towards the door but when he looked up at it, she was already there, greeting him with that same terrifying smile. He looked back at the bar in disbelief and when he turned back, she was in front of him. He recoiled and had it not been for her hand on his arm he surely would have fallen to the floor.

“Let’s take a walk, okay?”

Jungkook found himself in the cool Parisian night before he could object, and he began to weigh his choices. If she was a demon, there was one place he knew she couldn’t go, he just needed to keep his eyes out for a church and be ready to run once he got close enough. Easy.

“You’re in love with your best friend, and I want to help you.”

“I am not in love with my best friend,” Jungkook spat.

“But you are. You love him so much but you can’t say anything because the big guy made it so everyone would hate you for it.” She pointed up to the sky as she said this and Jungkook stupidly followed her finger. He quickly looked away once he realized her point.

“I’m not gay. I like girls.”

She shook her head. “You don’t have to be straight with me, Jungkook. I’m a huge fan of yours.”

Jungkook snorted in response. “A big fan of me? Hell, I didn’t know I was with a fan, I would have offered to sign something for you.”

“How about you sign away your soul?” She winked. “You promise me your soul and I’ll make Henry fall in love with you.”

“How many times do I have to tell you I-”

“Listen,” she interrupted as she stopped walking. “You can lie to me until you’re blue in the face, but you are in love with him.”

Jungkook desperately wanted them to start walking again so he could keep looking for a church. He pulled away from her lightly to try and get the show on the road, but she pulled back harder, making him stay with her. Jungkook was certain of one thing, this was bad, and he was not getting out of it.

“You want him, and I want you to have him. Falling in love with you will save him,” she said. “He won’t go back to California, he’ll stay right here with you and be crazy happy about it.”

Her last point piqued Jungkook’s interest. If he was being honest, there was this part of him that he had shoved down when he was about 15-years-old. He had been playing football with the neighborhood kids and he was just about to make a touchdown when he got knocked aside. He landed on his back and when looked up Henry was smiling down at him.

Gotcha, Kook, was all he said in response, but Jungkook had thought about those words for weeks. He had felt something then that when he was home alone hours later, he felt ashamed for. Something that threatened to bubble up any time he was with Henry after that. Something that made his skin rise when Henry walked around half-naked in their apartment. Something that made him hate Alma, because she was going to get him in the end, when Jungkook knew who really deserved him. Who would do anything for him.

“Let’s say you’re right-”

“I am.”

“what happens to me. I mean, what does selling my soul mean.”

A small smile danced at her lips. “I need a right-hand man, and you’re the guy I want. You spend the rest of your life with Henry and then you spend it with me, running my dominion as my principality. It’s a win-win.”

Jungkook wanted to pretend that he needed time to think it over, but the moment she had promised that he would stay in Paris and forget about Alma he had been sold. Finally, Henry would be free of her, they would be free of her.

“Okay.”

“Fantastic,” she reached down and pulled the rabbits foot off of Jungkook’s belt loop. “I’ll be needing this, and you’ll be needing some paper work.”

Jungkook hesitated as he stood outside of his and Henry’s apartment. _____ had left him long ago with the promise that her magic worked immediately. However, Jungkook’s brain wasn’t working as quickly. He was terrified because this meant he was giving into every thought, every feeling he hadn’t let himself have for close to ten years. He knew what he always knew; giving into this meant no going back. Stepping into that apartment would change everything and right now he wanted to be the same Jungkook who only liked girls for just a few moments more. The Jungkook that stood on the other side of that door was confusing and new and scary and he wasn’t ready for that yet.

Then again, he wasn’t sure he would ever be ready for that.

Gripping the door handle with his shaking hand, Jungkook slowly opened the door and entered his new life.

Henry was sleeping on the couch and there was a pang in Jungkook’s heart at the sight. Turns out, his new life wasn’t waiting immediately on the other side because this was normal. His friend stirred as Jungkook shut the door and the latter worried that he had awoken him.

“I tried to stay up,” Henry said, confirming Jungkook’s concerns. “but you’re always out so late.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Henry chuckled, his tone deep with sleep, and opened his eyes slightly. “I’m glad you did. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?” Jungkook feigned ignorance as he walked further into the apartment and closer to Henry.

“Alma wrote today,”

Jungkook nodded his head. This was the part he had been most excited about. The moment when Henry said that he no longer cared what she thought.

“She’s coming to visit again.”

“What. The. Fuck.” Jungkook held his head in his hands as he tried to wrap his mind around what was happening. He had been duped. “I can’t believe I sold my soul to a demon for this shit. I really let myself unearth all of the horrible feelings I have for you, damned myself for eternity, and you have the audacity to still be in love with her, because I got tricked by a demon.”

“Jungkook, are you okay? You’re not making any sense.” Henry stood up from his spot on the couch, any tiredness that may have been present in his eyes now replaced by concern. “Please, take a seat, you’ve probably had too much to drink again.”

“I’m in love with you, you fat-head! I know it’s wrong and I know I shouldn’t, but I am in love with you and the fact that you would be with someone like her, someone so beneath you, makes me want to die,” Jungkook pulled his arm away from Henry as he began pacing around the living room. “So I did just that, I damned myself for eternity so I could finally be happy on this god-forsaken Earth and for once in my pitiful life feel like loving you was the right thing to do, and you tell me Alma is coming here and the next thing I know you’re back in California and I continue to be sad and alone, fucking girls that I’ll never love because I love you.”

“Jungkook,”

“What?”

Henry jumped at Jungkook’s words and the latter realized he was still shouting. He put his hands out to show that he was sorry and calming down.

“You love me?”

Jungkook snorted as he looked down at his feet. It was probably too late to turn back now. “Oh, you heard that? You heard me screaming that I love you?” He looked up at Henry. “Is it too late to say that was all a joke?”

“You’re a fat-head, you know that?” Henry smiled as he walked to Jungkook.

“Or maybe I’m working on some lines for a play? Or what about if I sa-” Jungkook’s words died on the tip of his tongue as Henry reached up and placed his hands on either side of Jungkook’s face. He hesitated for only a moment before pressing his lips against Jungkook’s.

Jungkook was stunned, having been so sure that he had been tricked by the demon, but as Henry’s warm body pressed deeper into his own, he finally realized that this was really happening, and he kissed the man he loved back. Jungkook had always thought that giving into his desire for Henry would make him feel heavy with shame, but he had never felt lighter in his life. It was as if the room was no longer around them and the world no longer existed. It was just him and Henry as he had always wanted it.

Jungkook deepened the kiss, the longing in his chest growing stronger. He had wanted Henry for so long and there was a part of his brain that told him they had plenty of time and that everything could wait. The other part was tired of waiting and that was the part he decided to listen to. He pressed his hardening cock into Henry’s thigh, causing the latter to smile into their kiss. Henry pulled back and smirked at Jungkook before pulling the latter back into his room. The next few moments were a flurry in Jungkook’s mind as he tried to control his rapidly beating heart. He had been wrong earlier when he had said that everything was going to change when he entered the apartment. Everything was going to change now. Henry was the first person to remove his shirt, Jungkook was sure of that, because he had pulled Henry in for another kiss once he realized that he could finally do that whenever Henry was half-naked around the apartment.

“I want you,” Henry said as they broke away from the kiss, and that was when Jungkook’s shirt came off. The rest of their clothes came off quickly and Jungkook did his best to maintain his composure when Henry dropped to his knees in front of him. Wrapping his fingers around Jungkook’s hardened member, Henry smiled before licking languidly at the tip of his cock. Jungkook hissed at the contact and instinctively wound his fingers into Henry’s hair pulling him closer to where he wanted him. Henry wrapped his lips around Jungkook’s cock and began moving slowly up and down his length.

Jungkook was embarrassed by how quickly he felt his high approaching, but he wasn’t done with Henry yet. He had been waiting so long that this couldn’t be the end. He pulled lightly at Henry’s hair, but he did not let up. Instead he swatted at Jungkook’s hand and gripped tightly at his thigh. Jungkook swore under his breath and did his best to hold on.

He looked up at the ceiling, because looking down at Henry while he took Jungkook’s dick into his mouth so well and so happily, was too much for him to handle while his ego refused to let him cum.

“Fuck,” Jungkook looked back down at Henry and the latter’s eyes looked back at him. “You’re amazing, I can’t hold on any longer.”

Henry moaned around Jungkook’s length, causing a slew of obscenities to leave Jungkook’s mouth as he came. Henry continued his pace as he milked Jungkook for all he had and pulled away once Jungkook’s orgasm had finished. Jungkook lazily smiled at Henry as he stood up from his spot.

“I love you,” he whispered, as Henry wrapped his arms around his neck.

“I love you too, Kook. Always have.”

Jungkook rolled over in his bed and reached out for Henry, only to find that he wasn’t there. Jungkook’s eyes quickly shot open as he searched the room for his boyfriend. The had been taking turns sleeping in each other’s room since that night months ago, and he hadn’t woken up without Henry in a long time. Even when Henry had work early in the morning, he made sure to wake Jungkook up with a kiss before leaving.

Utterly confused and slightly worried, Jungkook got out of bed and walked into the living room. He searched the entire apartment for Henry, but he wasn’t there. Looking at the calendar that hung-over Henry’s desk, confirmed that he didn’t work early today. He should be here. Jungkook walked back to his room to put some clothes on his naked body. As he cleaned up the remnants of last night, he tried to remember if Henry had said anything about an errand he needed to run, or a friend he was going to see. Jungkook couldn’t think of anything. As he finished making the bed, the door to the apartment opened and closed, allaying Jungkook’s fears. Whatever Henry needed to do, he was back now, and everything was okay.

“I woke up and you weren’t here,” Jungkook said as he walked into the living room.

Henry looked up at him and offered him a small smile, as he shrugged his jacket off. “Sorry, Kook, I just had something I forgot I needed to do.”

“It’s okay, you just owe me tonight,” Jungkook teased as he wrapped his arms around Henry’s waist and pulled him in for a kiss.

Henry offered him another small smile when he pulled back and he quickly moved out of Jungkook’s embrace. The interaction felt off to Jungkook, but he decided not to bring it up. He didn’t want to seem clingy and it was probably nothing.

“Did you eat before your errand, I can make breakfast?”

“Yeah, that’d be great, Kook. Thanks.”

Jungkook made his way into the kitchen and he began to make breakfast, but something about Henry still felt off to him. In fact, it continued to feel off to him for the rest of the day. Jungkook had tried to talk to him about his errand while the ate breakfast, but Henry said it was nothing for him to worry about. Jungkook went into work and tried not to think about what Henry had been doing, but they had never had secrets between each other besides the fact that Jungkook had feelings for him. It wasn’t right that he was keeping something from him, and Jungkook was intent on making him tell the truth. However, all of that went out the door when Jungkook was greeted after work with a passionate kiss and hours of sex. The only thing that had felt normal all day was when Jungkook was rocking his hips into Henry’s, so he convinced himself that he was blowing everything out of proportion and that nothing was wrong.

Henry cuddled into him as they fell asleep that night, and Jungkook was sure that everything was going to go back to normal tomorrow morning.

That was until he opened his eyes.

“Fuck,” Henry cursed as Jungkook woke up. Henry was straddling Jungkook, and the latter was just about to make a joke about him not getting enough last night, when Henry’s hands flew to Jungkook’s neck.

“Kinky,” Jungkook coughed out before he realized that Henry’s hands were getting tighter on his neck.

Too tight in fact. Jungkook reached up to try and pry Henry’s hands off of him, he was stronger than Henry, but the latter had gotten the element of surprise and Jungkook was losing momentum as his airway was cut off.

Henry looked crazy above him, his eyes angry but somehow also sad. As Jungkook tried to beg him to stop it almost looked like he regretted what he was doing, but his grip only got tighter.

Jungkook batted at his lover’s hands as he tried to understand what was happening. He wanted to ask Henry why he was hurting him, he wanted to know what he had done, but mostly he wanted to know what that fucking errand was because he knew now that it had to have something to do with this. How had Henry gone from lying to this so quickly?

Jungkook’s chest burned as he continued to struggle against Henry, but his attacks were weakening as it became harder and harder to breath. His head felt light like it had when Henry had first kissed him, and he wondered how they had gotten to this point. How could someone he loved so much hold him down and murder him?

Jungkook never got the chance to ask as the world went dark around him.

And then she was there smiling.

“It’s good to see you again, Bunny. Sorry it had to end so soon.”

Jimin gasped for air as he sat on the floor of _____’s office. He had started to panic once he saw the heavenly blade on the principalities desk and he had pressed the moon on his chest in fear as he waited for you to pull him back to your dominion.

“They’re going to kill you,” he finally said as he turned to face you. “They have a heavenly blade. I saw it. You have to send me back, before Jungkook’s meeting is over, but you need to know that you are not safe.”

You looked at him with a neutral face that Jimin couldn’t read. “Anything else?”

Jimin looked at you confused. “No that’s it.”

“Just my impending erasure from existence then?”

Jimin nodded his head a frown on his face.

“Well if it’s just that,” you chuckled. “I guess I’ll see you in a little bit.”

Jimin went to respond but the familiar feeling of dematerializing echoed throughout his body and soon enough he was back outside of Dragas’ office. Beside him stood one of Dragas’ demons who looked at him skeptically.

“Didn’t want to take the stairs,” Jimin said with a humorless chuckle, looking down at his shoes.

Jungkook emerged with Dragas only moments later and he too seemed surprised to see Jimin. He nodded his head at the angel before motioning for him to follow him down the stairs.

“Weren’t you supposed to be looking for something,” Jungkook hissed as they walked to the entrance.

“I found something, and it’s really bad,” Jimin hissed back. “Somehow they got their hands on a Heavenly Blade.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened as he turned to Jimin. He quickly grabbed the Angel’s arm and pulled him out of Dragas’ mansion. “How do you know that?” He asked once they had made it outside. “How do you even know what one looks like?”

This was not good. Jimin quickly tried to think of a reason why he, a new demon, would have any idea what kind of weaponry angels used. “_____ showed me what they looked like just in case I saw anything like that while I was searching.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow at this but pushed no further. “If you’re right, we’re in way over our heads.”

“I hope I’m wrong then. I really do.”

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bitchesofostwick · 6 years ago

Text

2018 writer review

i was tagged by my dear friend @veridium-bye (thank you love!). i really didn’t start writing fic again until about october, so this is really a review of three months out of this year, but i’m still really proud of what i’ve done!

words written in 2018: 73,770

number of short fics/drabbles written in 2018: 39 (thirty-one of these were OC-tober ficlets, four were art trade/gift fics, and the remaining four were miscellaneous stories for my OCs)

number of fic chapters written in 2018: 11 (three for All of My Walls and eight for A World Alone)

number of chaptered fics completed in 2018: just one! All of My Walls, a three-chapter fic of aurelia hawke and fenris spanning the time between the “a bitter pill” quest through the end of the in-game DA2 events. it was really important to me for two reasons: one, aurelia and fenris are a rivalmance pair, but a lot of rivalmance fics i see are basically...just hate sex? and for fenris, and for aurelia, there are so many more layers and personal history that lends itself to their romance and creates these waves of tension and sadness and anger and heartbreak, but never hatred. i tackle the rivalmance in a bit of an easier (and generally humorous) light in their shorter fics, but All of My Walls is much more serious and i’m so proud of both of them for growing into themselves and each other and slowly allowing themselves love and be loved over the course of that fic. the OTHER reason that fic was so important to be is that it’s the first long(er) fic i wrote in a long, long time, and i consider it my way back into writing. i don’t think it reads as seamlessly as fics i’ve written since then do, but i’m still proud of myself for creating it, and i’m thankfully that it brought me back into the writing world.

fandoms: only dragon age this year! i haven’t touched my skyrim fic since 2017, and i toyed around with the idea of a kotor fic in the spring, but it never amounted to anything.

pairings: mainly ellinor trevelyan x cullen, emilia cousland x alistair, and aurelia hawke x fenris; HOWEVER, i’m eternally grateful to @fourletterepithet (velthei lavellan x cullen), @haloneshiral (letheia lavellan x cullen), @frecklef0x (anon trevelyan x dorian), and @gingerbreton (ysabelle dryden x alistair) for granting me the honor of writing about their OCs and letting me explore the dynamics of other pairings/relationships! writing for others is a really great experience to grow and strengthen your own writing, so i’m really glad i got to do those stories.

proudest achievements: i’m honestly just...proud i wrote anything at all? it’s so intimidating to come into a fandom that’s years and years old and put your content out there for people to see, especially when you haven’t written leisurely in a couple years and you’re really self-conscious of your work, like i am. but i took the leap, and people have been so responsive and supportive, and i’m eternally grateful for the very kind mutuals/readers i have that continue to inspire me to keep going and creating. some more minor achievements include

starting art trades. before doing this, i truly, genuinely did not believe that the brilliantly talented artists i see on tumblr every day would ever value their incredible work as equal to a short fic written by me. to me, it seemed like trading down. it turns out, i was wrong, and i’ve so far traded three one shots for three beautiful pieces of artwork, and as i mentioned earlier, it’s so refreshing and also so beneficial (in terms of writing skill and practice) to write for OCs that are not my own, so i’m so glad to have done these!

forcing myself to write action scenes. if you’ve been following me for a while, you’ve probably seen me complain multiple times about how much i hate writing action (i even made a meme about it that somehow went viral within the writeblr community lol joke’s on them it was made as a result of me rage quitting a dragon battle scene). the only thing i hate more than writing action is writing mage action, because none of my OCs are mages and all of my friends’ OCs are mages and i cannot understand the dynamics of mage combat no matter how hard i try. but, you can’t get better at something unless you practice it, so i wrote plenty of action in an attempt to get better. and i think (hope?) i did.

starting A World Alone!! my pride and joy!! my first longfic!! my favorite OC!! it’s a slow burn it’s an enemies-to-friends-to-lovers there’s tension there’s sadness there’s powerful female friendships there will be love eventually and i could go on about it for forever but instead i’ll just shamelessly plug it here because i love it so much and it makes me so happy.

writing goals for 2019

i would really love to join DWC but so far it looks intimidating to me because i’m worried i won’t be able to sit down for a night and keep up. but i’ll probably do it. i have so many good prompt posts saved in my drafts that i want to do.

more art trades! i have three already planned for the new year, and i’m very excited about them!

maybe finish A World Alone? i’m writing it at a good pace so far, so it’s a realistic goal.

more one shots. i love my longfic (obviously, as i blabbed about it relentlessly above), but i think shorter fics are such great opportunities to really focus in on a singular emotion and delve deep into little moments that are so brief in terms of plot but so big in terms of characterization. there are a few in particular i’m really proud of from this year (x, x, x, x, x, x), but i’m looking forward to more.

tagging friends (keeping it to friends who write, even a little!! any amount of writing is good writing!) @inquisitorsmabari @fourletterepithet @dickeybbqpit @trvelyans @a-shakespearean-in-paris @star--nymph @cullenvhenan @daydreamingdragonage @gingerbreton

#tag game #my writing #sorry that i basically used this post to link and plug all my fics #but i'm proud of them ok

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thelifetimechannel · 6 years ago

Text

The Dave and Dirk log, for obvious reasons, was something I wanted to try very hard to get right. That meant although we drafted it together via msparp, as was our custom, I ended up overhauling it way more than any of our other combo walkaround logs. A few chunks did survive the transfer, though.

In other news, we’ve made a solemn pact to finish TLC over winter break, which is good because I’m running out of bonus content. Hopefully we’ll have some assets to show off soon. I’ve already seen a few; they’re very nice.

DIRK: Hey, dude. You did pretty well out there. DIRK: Didn't even die once. DAVE: twice in a day is my max im satisfied with keeping that record DAVE: even if getting machinegunned is rapidly becoming my "thing" DIRK: Seems we each have our respective "signature deaths". DIRK: Or at least it ain't a party until I get decapitated. That sure was something we needed to do again. DIRK: Just once, for old time's sake. DAVE: well that puts the nail in the meme coffin DAVE: any time you panic someones gonna tell you to keep your head on DAVE: like keeping your hair on except you know that shit aint going anywhere its probably shellaced DIRK: That shit is bolted to the floor. Did you know I walked around with a girly-ass pink tiara on my head this whole day and had no idea? DIRK: I had no idea. Couldn't feel a thing. DIRK: And people let me do that. DIRK: Can't fuckin' believe it. DAVE: oh DAVE: i figured you knew DIRK: I am less than pleased with my Skaia-ordained divine color scheme. DIRK: But I guess I have to live with it. It's part of the team aesthetic. DAVE: you could always change DIRK: Nah, with the tiara and tights ditched I have at least mitigated the enforced flamboyance. It's bearable. DIRK: I can't be the one dude out of uniform. Couldn't bear the shame. DAVE: my outfit is pretty sick ngl DAVE: sburb knows everyones secret desire is to have a cape DIRK: Unfortunately, mine isn't long enough to also make for a good tactical maneuver. DIRK: Not gonna lie, that was pretty funny. DAVE: if nothing else my attempts at combat can provide a source of humor in our lives DAVE: but honestly id be fine if my fighting days were over DAVE: i was never into it DAVE: rose on the other hand was obviously itching to beat people up DAVE: one of those 12 year olds who wants to get jumped in an alley to work out her suppressed anger DIRK: Maybe Skaia did make a few miscalculations in dumping your asses with your respective guardians. I think you'd get along well with Roxy and her cats, make her budget her time away from the alcohol. DIRK: ...in theory. DIRK: Rose can go a few rounds with me if she wants, we still need to sort out who has the rights to document our legendary journies. DAVE: ill plan your funeral DAVE: what kind of flowers do you want DIRK: ...there's different kinds? DAVE: damn thats right you grew up in waterworld DAVE: these choices matter DAVE: allegedly theres a thing called "flower language" DAVE: whether you can actually send someone a boquet telling them to meet you in the pit i dont know DIRK: Like, I get that, in theory, different kinds of flowers exist. But I fully anticipate any attempt on my part to conjugate in the language of said plants would end in my coffin declaring my hovercraft was indeed full of eels. DIRK: Maybe it'll have thorns on it. Or it'll be like the sixteen millions tons of green bullshit covering my land and making my nose itch. DAVE: probably DIRK: Worst case scenario, I'll pick out something orange and present to a prospective love interest and it'll mean something like "my brotherly passion for you knows no boundaries, and also no homo". DAVE: my bro wouldnt go for flower arranging DAVE: or pink tiaras DAVE: he was pretty uptight about the whole rah rah macho act DAVE: probably subscribed to alpha males weekly DAVE: which is weird considering DAVE: well DAVE: youre gay right DIRK: Uh. DIRK: Well. DIRK: My symbolic quest land is not covered in green bullshit, but I. DIRK: Happen to like watching birds, if you know what I mean. DIRK: Fuck, you probably don't know what that means. Jake and his goddamn thousand euphemisms. DAVE: cant say i do no DIRK: Nobody knows what it means but Jake. It's an old time epithet for being into dudes. DIRK: He knows all the old epithets, including some I suspect he made up. DAVE: so DAVE: thats a yes DAVE: in a roundabout way that includes birds DIRK: I've never denied it. DIRK: I'm just. DIRK: Not a huge fan of the word. Why, in this world post-society, do we need to confine ourselves to labels like "gay"? Such constraints were washed away from my world with the rest of the human race. DAVE: holy shit that was such a pretentious dodge DAVE: dont let rose hear you say that DIRK: Rose can hear all she likes. DAVE: but anyway DAVE: i wasnt asking to get up all in your business like SOME PEOPLE DAVE: who are so into getting into other peoples businesses theyre basically the fucking mafia or the irs DAVE: but DAVE: it explains some stuff DAVE: but on the other hand it doesnt DAVE: the way you raised me was kinda aggressively mainstream masculine enough that it wasnt something that ever seemed to come up as an option DAVE: [describe that type of culture and mindset better later, I KNOW what i mean but im tired rn lmao] DAVE: and anything outside of that id just brush off because it couldnt apply to me DAVE: and that went for pretty much everything that went against what you wanted for me DAVE: including that DIRK: And yet, here the man was, subconsciously shrieking his desire for floppy felt dong through, DIRK: What I guess you could call his art, for want of any other applicable word at all. God, the mental images are crawling up the insides of my skull like the Exorcist child, do I want to know? DAVE: probably not DAVE: guess trying to act peak male has its drawbacks DAVE: weirdly enough troll culture is obsessively hyperviolent but doesnt give a shit about sexuality DAVE: they dont see the difference most of the time i guess DAVE: and so like DAVE: maybe it rubs off on you because in some ways that kind of makes sense DAVE: but after so long its hard to know what i feel and what it means because i spent so long ignoring it DAVE: so i guess i was wondering DAVE: if you had anything that might help with that DAVE: or if youre also trapped in this whirling screaming maelstrom of bullshit DAVE: while kinsey sits in the eye of the storm laughing DIRK: Wait, wait, wait. DIRK: You're coming to me. DIRK: For advice. DIRK: Do you know what a laughable hurricane of disaster my interpersonal life has been? DIRK: Like, in a weird way, I'm kind of honored, especially since about five hours ago you were scared shitless to be around me, but. DIRK: I'm standing here and waving my credentials in the air just to display how I don't fucking have any. My degree is a sham and my hands are empty except for a crudely scribbled on piece of construction paper. DAVE: are you suggesting theres a gay university DAVE: where you study bird watching DIRK: Do I look like a man who's been to college? DAVE: fair DAVE: but like DAVE: your friends know DAVE: how did you broach the subject there DIRK: I might as well have been dating a Yoko Ono for the devastation it wreaked on our friend group, so yeah, it was a little hard to ignore. DIRK: Compounded by the fact some smartass from Gay University was using my social circle for romance geometry homework. DIRK: It wasn't even a love triangle so much as a love roundabout. DAVE: ok but thats just because you were a dipshit not a gay dipshit DAVE: they were chill about the first part right DIRK: Thanks. DIRK: I mean... Roxy always seemed disappointed. DAVE: luckily i dont think anyones waiting in line for me DAVE: i guess im blowing it out of proportion DAVE: i dont think anyone will MIND DAVE: no one did about rose and kanaya DAVE: didnt even question the vampire bit which goes to show what our lives are like these days DAVE: like ok our outfit has vampires now DAVE: thats a thing that we have DAVE: if i say oh hey i might be bisexual theyll just say sure pull up a chair at the acronym table DAVE: the only one who might be weird about it is john DAVE: but hed be just as weird if i told him id changed my favorite color hes just like that DAVE: the only person its really a big deal for is me DIRK: Jane was a little bit like that. I'm pretty sure the only reason she had to object was because she found out the day I made a move on her crush. DIRK: It might just be growing up in a household where you're not regularly fighting for your life, and thus what genders are kissing whom has the space to be higher on your priority list. DAVE: that aint anyones priority these days DAVE: im prepared to acknowledge the concept that hey maybe everyone elses lives dont revolve around me and my personal drama or self revelations might have some merit at least as a hypothesis DAVE: when i met kid english he kept going on about how i was the most important person and everyone else was side characters DAVE: and maybe ive acted like that sometimes DIRK: Yeah, like you alone are the one responsible for everyone around you. DAVE: and maybe ive acted like i think that way too sometimes DAVE: ive been wrong about people DAVE: people i care about people i shouldve known better DAVE: i was wrong because i wanted to believe things that matched how i wanted the world to be DAVE: things that made it easier for the story i was telling myself DAVE: i dont think kid english meant to call me on it but damn DIRK: Reality is, after all, something we construct for ourselves. DIRK: I think maybe I knew that all along when I surfaced for air inbetween shoving my head as far up my ass as it would go. DIRK: Or maybe that's just what I try to tell myself in hindsight. DAVE: well if it takes a hyperactive 12 year old version of the final bosss creepy hero worship of me to make a point i guess thats not the least subtle way the universe has sent me a message lately DIRK: You want unsubtle? Let me tell you about my damn planet quest. DAVE: haha DAVE: i didnt have to do much of my quest because im invisible DAVE: thanks mom DIRK: My denizen practically sat me down like it was my life coach and growled in my ear about improving my communication skills with a guy I told to go fuck himself not eighteen hours prior. DIRK: So while I'm glad SBURB has a vested interest in me repairing my friendships, playing electroshock death DDR with him was a little on the nose. DAVE: maybe getting shot again wasnt that bad DAVE: so weve all learned our life lessons good job team DIRK: Exactly. Can we wrap this up now? Can we please go rest? DIRK: I'm so exhausted I haven't even noticed I'm still hungover. DAVE: sure thing DAVE: but if i need tips on leaping out of a closet to intimidate passerby i might text you DIRK: I mean, I can try. As long as you don't ask me for dating tips. That, I definitely shouldn't be helping you with. DIRK: Go talk to your sister for that. DIRK: ...wouldn't she, by the transitive property of siblings, also be my sister? DAVE: yeah i guess DAVE: but theres no way in hell im asking rose for dating advice DAVE: on her first date which she refused to admit was romantically oriented she got wasted in anticipation forgot to show up and then fell down the stairs DIRK: Oh my god. DAVE: she tries to look like shes got her shit together but its a lie DAVE: if you find my corpse floating on lolar in the next few hours dont let the truth die with me DIRK: Why are we like this? DIRK: Is there actually something hardwired into our DNA that predisposes us to being disasters? DIRK: But, that aside. DIRK: I won't object if it's me you come to talk to. DAVE: ill hold you to it DAVE: and if you ever want to publicly you admit you DAVE: "enjoy birdwatching" DAVE: in less vague and evasive terms DAVE: ill have your back DIRK: Thanks.

#bonus content

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onmywaytobe · 6 years ago

Note

1-50 do it if you dare

ohoho challenge accepted

(also i love you omg how did you know i love to talk about myself)

(most of them under the cut bc I don’t want everyone to hate me lol)

1.What made you start writing?

My teachers always said I was good at it and tbh I’ve always made up stories with like dolls or stuffed animals or whatever

2. How old were you when you started writing?

I was 12 when I started my first novel (and that’s still the only novel I’ve ever finished, how about that)

3. What was the first story you ever wrote about?

That first novel is what I’ll count, it was basically self-insert Merlin fanfiction before I knew what fanfiction was, and I changed all the names so nobody would be any the wiser

4. What’s your favorite genre?

I’m really into modern fantasy at the moment, like anything mystical set in modern day I love

5. What’s your least favorite genre?

I can’t do hard sci-fi, I wish I could but it’s too much for me

6. What’s your biggest strength as a writer?

Probably dialogue? I write a lot of scripts where dialogue is the only thing that really matters so I work on that the most

7. What’s your biggest weakness as a writer?

SETTING DESCRIPTIONS nobody knows what anything looks like anywhere and I’m so sorry

8. What writing projects are you currently working on?

I’m waiting for NaNo to start so I can get working on They Met in a Cafe, which is about an art thief who falls in love with the journalist who’s been writing about him

9. Who’s your favorite author?

I think I have to say Tolkien, he was just so iconic

10. Who’s your least favorite author?

Cassandra Clare.

11. What’s your favorite book?

The Professionals by Owen Laukkanen (it’s so good)

12. What’s your least favorite book?

This book called Best Served Cold by Joe Abercrombie, it took me so long to read and it wanted to be Game of Thrones so badly but it just wasn’t

13. What’s your favorite trope?

MUTUAL PINING (gets me every time)

14. What’s your least favorite trope?

Enemies to lovers (unless done really well) doesn’t always sit well with me, but I know that’s a popular one on here

15. Have you ever gotten anything published?

I don’t think so lol writing is very much just a hobby for me

16. Do you prefer to type or write by hand?

Type, I can write much faster and closer to the speed of my thoughts lol

17. What’s your favorite literary magazine?

I uh…don’t have one

18. Are there any topics you don’t feel comfortable writing about?

Yeahhh nothing too graphic (in terms of torture, sex, death, etc.) I keep it fairly PG-13 except for swearing haha

19. Where do you get your inspiration from?

Literally everywhere, I’ve never had an original thought in my life

20. Do you prefer to write fiction or poetry?

Fiction, I am so bad at writing poetry

21. How long is the stuff you usually write?

Usually I give up around 15-20k into a story, which is unfortunate

22. How do you deal with writer’s block?

I either take a break from writing as long as I can, or I outline the scene as best as I can until I start getting ideas for how to write the actual scene

23. Have you ever taken any creative writing classes?

None specifically dedicated to creative writing, just the general high school ones

24. Which of your characters has the most in common with you?

Of my current characters, definitely Cam from Descendants of the Earth, he is so soft and loves his friends so much and that’s just me af

25. Who is your favorite character you’ve written about?

I loved my character Colin from my first novel, Stay True, writing him just made me really happy (I think because at the time I was obsessed with Merlin, and he was the Merlin in my story lol)

26. Who is your favorite fictional character in general?

I would die for Samwise Gamgee but he would never let me

27. What time of day do you usually write?

I’m trying to get in the habit of writing in the morning on the bus, but it’s usually in the evening when I should be doing homework

28. How much planning and/or research do you do before you start writing?

Usually none at all, I just make stuff up, but for Cafe I’m actually doing a lot of research bc art history is fascinating and I want to represent cystic fibrosis accurately

29. What writing related accomplishment are you the most proud of?

I think the fact that I actually won NaNo last year while also being a college student

30. Have you ever dreamt about your characters?

No but I wish I could omg

31. What is your ideal writing environment?

In my bed, under a blanket, computer on my lap, nobody else in the house bothering me haha

32. Which published book do you wish you had written?

The Forbidden Game (by L.J. Smith), that book influenced my writing style so much and I love it a lot

33. Which themes do you like to write about the most?

I think I do a lot of found family/ragtag group of friends stuff, and happy endings for everyone who deserves one

34. What is the best advice you have for a beginning writer?

Literally just write. And it will suck and you won’t like to read it. But it’s so much fun if you just do what you love and enjoy it while it’s happening.

35. What is the worst writing advice you’ve ever heard?

Idk I try to avoid most writing advice, probably just anything that says “never” write something in particular because like….that’s ridiculous

36. Do you prefer pens or pencils?

Pens! I worry about pencil smearing.

37. What traits do your protagonists usually have?

They’re usually stale cinnamon rolls, like they used to be so happy and pure and now they’re cynical and tired. And everyone is so sarcastic, because thats how I am

38. What is your ultimate writing goal?

I would love to be traditionally published someday, but I don’t see that happening anytime soon if ever

39. What is the weirdest thing you’ve ever written about?

The weirdest thing I actually tried to turn into a full novel was this series about a group of girls who each had different supernatural things happen to them (one was selected to be a fairy princess, one had the power to manipulate fate, one was the daughter of Hades, and one could go back in time)

That actually sounds really cool summed up like that but…it was middle school, it was not good

40. What is the most random fact you’ve ever learned while doing research for a story?

I just recently learned that having cystic fibrosis makes your skin taste salty, so that’s a thing

41. What would you do if you were suddenly teleported into your WIP?

Hug the heck outta Leo (he needs all the hugs) and also try to join the heist crew lol

42. How many drafts do you usually go through before you finish a piece?

One and a half, I’ve never edited a damn thing in my life lol but I do usually do a read-through after it’s finished and fix some things that I don’t like before calling it good

43. Has your writing ever made you cry?

Not as such, but I’ve made myself really sad while writing Voice of Treason (which is a feature film, not a novel)

44. Would you rather have your WIP adapted into a movie or TV show?

Lol well since Cafe is based on a book within a movie I produced, I have to say that I’d want it made into a movie

It would also make a good movie tbh

45. Where do you share your writing?

Only on here, and I post finished (or close to finished) things on Wattpad

46. What’s your favorite line of your current WIP?

Well I’ve only got the one small section so far, but I really like this line.

She laughed softly, her warm, coffee-stained breath fanning across his face.

47. What’s the first sentence of your WIP?

Currently it’s “Leo nervously slid into the coffee shop, glancing behind him” but that’s subject to change once NaNo starts

48. What’s the last sentence you wrote?

It was actually for DotE, and it was “Logan watched and laughed, grateful to be invited into the fun despite declining the offer.”

49. What inspired you to write your WIP?

This is actually my favorite question. So I worked on this movie two years ago with these dumb guys, and within the movie there was the character of this writer girl, and she was writing a book called “They Met in a Cafe” and throughout the movie you see her acting out these scenes from the book with her imagination, which takes the form of this cute guy (it was not a good movie lol)

Anyway I decided to take those scenes and basically write the book that she was trying to write in the film, but I’m gonna make it make sense and it’s gonna be so good (hopefully)

50. What’s your favorite thing about your WIP?

I love the whole concept of it, it really just appeals to my silly romantic sensibilities as well as my fascination with art and history in general, I just think it’s really fun

THANK YOU FOR ALL THESE QUESTIONS!! I literally love talking about myself so much and I was in such a bad mood bc my roommate has people over but this made me feel so much better so thank you

#asks #answered #about me #cafe #treason #dote #cam #leo #long post #logan

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gray-autumn-sky · 6 years ago

Text

Sleepless in Seattle, Chapter 9

March 6, 1993- Seattle, Washington:

Belle carries a bologna and cheese sandwich that’s cut up in quarters over to Roland, grinning as he grins up at her to accept it.

“So, she begins, sitting down across from him. “Your dad said you were having a friend over today after school. Did something happen?”

“No,” Roland says easily as he bites into the sandwich. “I ride the bus, but Gus doesn't, so his mom had to pick him up like she always does and bring him over.”

“Oh—“

“He said he had to make a stop.”

“He did,” Belle says, her brow arching. “Not his mum?”

“Nope. Him.”

“Ah—“

Roland nods as he chews the bread’s crust. “We have a project we need to work on and we needed paper.”

“I’m sure you have paper here. You’ve got a whole bin of construction paper and—“

“No,” Roland says, cutting in and shaking his head. “We need nice paper for this.”

“Oh. Okay then.”

Roland grins and nods, then takes a bigger bite of the danish. “It’s really important that we have nice paper.”

“Oh…” Belle shifts and straws in a breath. “So your dad has been seeing my friend, Emma.”

“Emma is your friend?”

“Yes, mine and Ruby’s.”

“Oh, I… I didn’t know that.”

“Your dad says you don't like her.”

Roland shrugs. “I don’t really know her.”

“That’s fair,” Belle says slowly. “I just… I just want you to understand that just because they go on dates sometimes, that… that doesn't mean he’s going to marry her.”

Roland’s brow furrows as he looks back at her. “Then, what's the point of dating her?”

“Well, to… get out and get back in the swing of things and…”

“I don’t have a problem with my dad dating.”

“So, it’s...just Emma you don’t like?”

“I just don't think she’s right for him.”

“That’s why people date. To find someone who is right for them, and that’s a decision that no one else can make for another person.”

Roland nods, considering it. “Then why did you and Aunt Ruby set him up with Emma?”

“Because he’s a really good guy and she's nice and… we thought they might be good together.”

“I like Regina better.”

“Who?”

“Regina,” he says, as if she should know. “The lady who wrote the letter on the pretty paper.” He grins. “She likes Hemingway just like dad does, she has a son who is in Boy Scouts and I’ll be in Boy Scouts next year, and she makes great lasagna, dad’s favorite.” Roland grins as he considers it, and then his grin fades away. “Emma makes Shepherd’s pie. It was not good.”

“Not everyone is gifted in the kitchen.”

“I know, that’s why dad needs someone who is.”

At that, Belle laughs. “So where is this Regina person from?”

“Connecticut.”

“Roland, that’s really far away. It’s all the way on the other side of the country.”

“I know where Connecticut is. I looked it up on the big map at school.” He pauses and takes another bite of the sandwich. “But Gus says a long distance relationship can be a good thing because abstinence makes the heart grow fonder.”

“Um, I think you mean absence, Roland.”

“Yeah. That. That’s what Gus said.”

Belle’s eyes narrow. “Gus as in the little boy that’s coming over to play?”

“To work on a project.”

“Oh, are you not friends with Gus that way?”

“He’s my best friend.”

“Oh, I just…” Belle stops. “Never mind.”

“Well, that may or may not be true, but who am I to argue with the sage advice of a six year old?”

“Gus is seven. He had a late birthday, so he could have been in second grade.”

A grin twists on to Belle’s lips. “That explains it then.”

“Yeah…”

The doorbell rings just as Roland is finishing his sandwich, and as soon as it does, he stuffs the rest of the sandwich into his mouth and runs to the door. And Belle can’t help but laugh as he pulls open the front door, grabs a hold of his friend’s wrist and drags him up the stairs without a word…

“You should see this letter,” Roland says, closing the door behind him.

“Is the paper nice? My mom says that’s how you know someone cares—when they send you something nice.” Gus nods with a serious expression on his round face. “It’s all about the effort, ya know.?”

Roland nods in agreement. “It’s very nice.”

“Then she really likes your dad.”

“Yeah,” Roland says, grabbing the letter from his night stand. “And she included so many of the things my dad likes, without even knowing it.”

“Wow.”

“I know,” Roland says handing his friend the letter. “Look.”

He watches as Gus looks at the envelope, examining it carefully as if looking for clues, then he unfolds the letter, his eyes slowly moving over the words. “You read this?”

“Well… not.. not all of it,” Roland admits. “Just the words I know. But I can tell it’s a really good letter.” He grins. “She quoted Hemingway, and one of the quotes she uses, my dad has a journal that says that same thing on the front.”

“Cool.”

“Right? She is a good cook, too.”

“My dad says that’s super important.”

“Her best meals are my dad’s favorite which is lasagna and then my favorite, apple pie.”

“That’s amazing,” Gus says, his eyes widening a little. “Why did your dad say?”

Roland frowns. “He didn’t read it.”

“Why not?”

“He’s got a girlfriend.”

“Does she make apple pie?”

“No, she makes Shepherd's pie.”

“Ew.”

Roland nods. “It had peas in it.”

“Gross. She’s gotta go.”

“Yeah,” Roland frowns. “She’s… not that bad, really. She rollerblades, I guess.”

“Has she taken you?”

“No.”

“Oh. Then what good is that?”

“I don't know,” Roland admits, “Maybe she will someday.”

“But maybe your Dad’ll dump her before that.”

“I hope so,” Roland says, a little grin pulling onto his lip. “That’s why I invited you over, actually.”

“Need me to throw a fire and scare her of? My dad says I’m ‘specially skilled at making people wanna leave when I get upset about stuff.” He giggles. “Have you ever seen Parent Trap?”

“No. “What’s that?”

“Only the best movie ever. Twins scare off their dad’s terrible girlfriend.”

“Well, I’m not a twin, so I don’t think that would work,” Roland says, considering it as he shifts a bit uncomfortably. “Plus, not actually terrible. I don’t want to scare her,” he says. “I just want her to break up with my dad ‘cause there’s someone better for him.”

“That’s the point,” Gus says. “To make Emma go away.”

“I have a better idea, though,” Roland says, sitting up a little straighter and smiling at his own cleverness. “We are going to write her.”

“Her—“

“Regina,” Roland says. “We are going to write back to her.”

“We’re in first grade, Roland.”

“But we’re the best writers in our class. Our teacher is always saying that.”

Gus nods. “That’s true.”

“So, together, I think we could probably write a pretty good one.”

For a moment, Gus considers it. “We did get an A on that Halloween story was wrote together.”

“Exactly.” Taking a breath, Gus looks down at the letter. “I have some ideas. I started yesterday.”

“Let’s see.”

Reaching back into the nightstand, Roland pulls a lined piece of paper from the drawer. “It’s, just a draft, obviously.” He says, handing the paper over to Gus, watching as Gus reads it to himself then clears his throat to read aloud.

“Dear Regina,” he begins.”You sound really neat—“ Gus grins up at him. “That's a good line.”

“I thought so,” Roland beams.

“You should tell her how much you like lasagna next.”

“Yeah! And why!”

“Good,” Gus nods, looking down at the rest of the letter. “That's good. She is going to love this!”

_____

March 6, 1993- Greenwich, Connecticut:

That evening she and Daniel went out on a date—dinner while Henry was at a friend’s working on a project for school. Daniel suggested the little place in Hartford where they’d gone on their first date, and she’d easily agreed—Henry didn't have to be picked up until nearly eight that evening and it’d have nice to eat in a restaurant that didn’t have children’s section on the menu.

They took her car and when they got into the freeway, Daniel flicked on the radio, and almost immediately her cheeks flushed at the sound of Doctor Hopper’s voice.

“Isn’t this that show you like so much?”

Regina shrugs. “I’m, um… I’m actually doing a story for work on this show.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s... it’s about its emotional appeal.”

“Ohh, that's… that’s actually really interesting. I’d like to hear about it sometime,” Daniel tells her, offering a quick little grin. “When did you start this?”

“Um, a couple of weeks ago.”

“Is it—“

“Can we… not talk about it right now? I’ve spent the whole day thinking about the angle I wasn’t to take for this story and what my argument is going to be, and I just… I just want to focus on something else.”

“Yeah, sure,” Daniel says easily, not seeming to pick up any any of her discomfort over this particular topic. “Do you want to change the station?”

“No,” she murmurs. “I do like this show. It’s… it’s oddly calming.”

“Alright then,” Daniel says, grinning as he looks over at her. “We’ll listen, but not discuss.”

“Perfect,” she says, grinning back.

Daniel tuns up the sound just as Doctor Hopper comes back informing listeners that he’s talking to couples who are sure they’ve found the key to a long-lasting and healthy marriage. And then, they listen to a string of callers explain to Doctor Hopper and his listeners how they married someone they felt was their best friend.

When they arrive at the restaurant, the host leads them to the same table they’d ate at on their first date and she and Daniel had both laugh at the coincidence—and then something glitters in Daniel’s eyes.

And again, she found herself with an uneasy feeling that has become commonplace whenever she thinks he might be considering a proposal.

They get through an appetizer and dinner—and then, after their desert arrives, she watches Daniel reach into the breast pocket of his jacket and pull out a ring box.

She masks her discomfort with surprise and suddenly when the box opens, revealing to her a gorgeous antique ring that he tells her was his mother’s, the entire restaurant is staring that them.

She’s not even sure what he says when he asks because she can’t hear him over the beating of her heart and the voice in her head that tells her this is too soon—but he smiles and the crowded restaurant aww’s and she finds herself nodding, reminding herself that Daniel is, by far, the sweetest, kindest man she’s ever met, that he loves her son and that he loves her, and she reminds herself that she would be a complete fool not to want to marry him.

And as she stares at him with a hundred conflicting thoughts going through her head, she couldn’t help but think there were far worse things than marrying a man like Daniel Colter; and while she and Daniel might not have had passion, but perhaps they had something better.

She comfort and ease, understanding and trust and the sort of love that came from what seemed to be rekindled friendship.

So, she says yes.

The restaurant claps and Daniel pulls her into a warm hug—and she sort of melts into him as she feels a burst of contentment that lasts for the rest of the evening.

And then, she gets home.

Mal is there, curled up one he armchair with a glass of wine, her brow arched skeptically.

“Thank you, for, um,... for picking Henry up.”

“He’s never any trouble.”

Regina smiles. “Is he already asleep.”

“Yeah, He went to bed about a half an hour ago. You just—“ Mal stops and sits up a little straighter as her eyes fall to Regina’s hand. “Oh, so that’s why you were detained.”

Smiling Regina nods. “We… um… we had some unexpected celebrating to do.”

“I’ll say, Mal says, getting up and cross the room toward her. “He finally did it.”

“He finally did.”

“And, you obviously said yes.”

I did,” Regina says smiling a bit shyly. “I… wasn’t sure, but then there he was with the ring and—“

“Regina—“

“I love him. I do. And what we have might not be perfect, but it’s incredible and I’m happy and I’ve never been as happy as I am with him.”

“What about Sleepless in Seattle?”

“Sleepless in Seattle doesn't even know that I exist.”

Mal nods, biting down on her lip. “What happened to not being able to get him out of your head?”

“He’s a fantasy Mal. He’s not real… not… not to me anyway.” She shakes her head. “And Daniel is very real and when I’m with him I feel—“

“Magic?”

“Mal—“

“Please don’t do this, Mal,” Regina says, pressing her eyes closed as she sighs. “Please just let me have this.”

“What about your story?”

“What’s about it? Regina asks, stepping away from Mal. “I can still write it.”

“Really? Because I got the impression the story was an excuse.”

“The story isn’t an excuse. It’s… it’s just something I’m interested in.” She shakes her head. “I… I think I was going down a really unhealthy road, and… and tonight sort of… snapped me back and put me down a different path.”

“A better one?”

“A healthier one. One that’s based on something real, not… not some obsession.” Something about that makes Mal soften. “For so long I was so unhappy, and I spent years building up this idea of what love is supposed to be.”

“You deserve a fairytale.”

“Fairytales aren't real, Mal. They’re not and what I have with Daniel is very real.”

“Do you love him?”

“Yes, of course I do.”

“Are you in love with him?”

“I love him, Mal, and when I envision what our life together would be like, I really like what I see.” She smiles gently. “We’ll be happy.”

“You don’t seem excited.”

“I am, and for the first time in my life, I feel like… like I’m finally in a good place. Please, Just… let me have that.”

Mal sighs and nods,m and then a warm smile pulls onto her lips. “Okay, fine,” Mal says, take a few steps in and pulling her into a hug. “If you're happy, then I’m happy.”

“Thank you,” Regina murmurs as Mal pulls back.

“Okay, so I want you to tell me everything, Mal says, her smile brightening as she takes Regina by the hand. “Don’t leave anything out!”

#oq ff #outlaw queen #advent 2018

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