#wrote too much and had to split the chapter in half whoops

[blackkatmagic]

fracture update

Chapter 6 is now up on AO3, and chapter 11 is up on Patreon!

#my writing #clone trooper waxer #mace windu #commander cody #tarre vizsla #leia organa #wrote too much and had to split the chapter in half whoops #star wars

[bonjour-rainycity]

Late in the Night | Part Two

Previous Part

Pairing: One-sided ( or is it ;) ) Legolas x Female Reader

Rating: G

Word count: 1416

Warnings: None

A/n Okay friends, oops. I wrote the first chapter in the first person and suddenly decided that I want to do the rest of it in the third. This is why I usually outline my fics but this one I wrote on a whim — whoops! Sorry about that. Maybe one day I’ll go back and fix it, but for now I’ll just leave it as is. And also, I’m taking a lot of setting and characterization liberties with this story because it’s just something I want to have fun with rather than extensively plan out. Hope you don’t mind :)

Legolas’ POV

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid.

As he walks, Legolas berates himself, and as he berates himself, he continues to walk.

Because really, there’s no break from either.

He replays the moment from the night before over and over in his head and just can’t work it out. Something he said seemed to have damaged his relationship with Y/n. She was still friendly to him, but distant. Something he did or said or a facial expression he made, maybe, seemed to take all the warmth from their interactions, the warmth that she usually reserved just for him.

Or, he thought she did.

Maybe he was reading too much into things. Maybe there was never any special look just for him, or a softness in her voice when she said his name only, or a light in her eyes when he made her laugh. Maybe he was completely wrong, and they weren’t teetering on the edge of something more than friends.

Doesn’t she know that elves take things extremely seriously, and he wouldn’t have offered to bring her home with him, introduce her to his father and his people, and help her build a life in his homeland if he didn’t….if he didn’t….

But it doesn’t matter, he grumbles inwardly. Because it’s obvious she doesn’t feel the same way. She must have realized the gravity of what it meant when I offered, and is now trying to tell me she doesn’t want that.

But even as his head tries to convince him to let her go, to let the tenderness he feels for her fade away, his eyes find hers. She notices his gaze, and raises a questioning eyebrow. It’s accompanied by a kind smile, but that’s the smile she gives everyone. Foolishly—possessively—immaturely, he wishes to see his smile again.

He tears his eyes from hers, trying to pull himself out of his own head. Instead, he turns his focus to his senses, exploring the area around them, doing his part to keep his companions safe. After all, it’s nearly sunset, and as the light fades, so does the eyesight of many. His ears pick up on something far in the distance, and he jogs to catch up with Aragorn.

“Are you sure about this?”

Aragorn falls into step with his friend. “I have considered the risk extensively, and there is no avoiding it. We need to resupply, and I fear not only for morale but for physical health if we don’t all get a proper meal and rest safe from the elements. Besides, it’s a sizable but remote human village, quite isolated from the rest of the world. By the time news of our presence travels, we will be long gone on an alternate path.”

Legolas nods, accepting his wise friend’s assessment. Even to him, the idea of an actual rest holds great appeal — he can’t even imagine the pull it will have for his friends.

Eventually, the others begin to notice that, rather than going in a wide berth around the rising smoke that hints at a town, they head straight for it. Legolas can physically feel their excitement, and can’t stop from feeling a bit giddy himself.

Aragorn calls for a halt in the woods near the town’s gate, and the group gathers close. They are still concealed, and Legolas wonders if Aragorn has changed his mind, if he’s going to make them go back?

But thankfully, Aragorn has no such intentions. In fact, he has a very different sort of plan.

“Right,” he starts, fixing them all with a level stare. “We cannot enter all ten of us at once, that would be too conspicuous. Instead, we shall go in smaller groups that still make strategic sense. There is to be no interaction between the groups, except for pleasantries that you would exchange with anyone else. We will take staggered entrances and leave the same way, meeting up tomorrow morning a mile west. I know this town, and it has two small inns — we will split ourselves between them. Gandalf and I will go first to the inn on the West side of town. After half an hour has passed, Frodo, Sam, Pippin, Merry — you all will join us. Shortly after I leave, so shall Boromir and Gimli, but to the inn on the East side. After a good amount of time has passed, Legolas and Y/n, you join them.”

The companions grin, finding excitement in Aragorn’s game of deception, but Legolas feels a sense of unease grow in his stomach. He has not been alone with Y/n since last night, and a tension has obviously arisen between them. He turns his head to find Y/n avoiding his gaze, but she does not protest to Aragorn’s grouping of them, so neither does he. Perhaps their time alone will give them the chance to sort out whatever he’s done to upset her.

As decided, Aragorn and Gandalf leave first, followed closely by Boromir and Gimli. Y/n sits on the ground chatting quietly with Pippin and Merry, while Legolas joins Sam to guard Frodo, as they know Aragorn would want them to do. When enough time has passed for the hobbits to leave, Y/n waves them goodbye, wishing them sweet dreams in a warm bed.

The silence of the night that Legolas had become so accustomed to is marred by the harsh nosies of the human town. It doesn’t seem to bother Y/n, who raises herself from the ground and peeks curiously through the trees. “You know, it’s the first time in months we’ve all slept apart from each other.” Legolas finds himself perplexed as Y/n shakes her head, rolling her eyes. “Gosh, I sound so codependent.”

But Legolas just smiles, knowing well the sort of bond that forms between those who fight together. “No, I understand. It will be strange. But it might be nice to have a room all to yourself. None of Gimli’s snoring to worry about.”

Y/n snorts, crossing her arms and regarding Legolas with the smile he had been aching to see all day.

But as quickly as it appears, it fades from her face, replaced with a contemplative set in her brow. She looks conflicted, but he can’t for the life of him figure out why. She doesn’t take her eyes from his, and he’s too captivated to look away. Legolas takes a step forward, the darkness and her eyes and just her calling to him, asking him to come closer. Is he imagining the spark of hope in her eyes? Valar, he prays not.

Somehow, he finds himself standing right in front of her, when just seconds ago he’d been at least a yard away. Y/n tilts her head up to look at him, and the way the moon sparkles in her eyes and lights the soft curve of her cheek — he feels his hand raise, he wanted to brush his fingers and see if it’s as smooth as it looks. He wants to hold her in his arms, and beg her to forgive him for whatever wrong he committed that kept her warmth from him that day.

Y/n worries her bottom lip, still looking up at him with those wide, guarded eyes. He sees something shift in them, and knows a decision had been made, but what?

“Legolas, I need to—”

Crack!

Legolas has his bow nocked and whirls around before he even has time to fully register the sound.

He notices the squeak of hinges that accompanies the sharp smack of the wood, and lowers his bow, feeling startled still, despite the innocent nature of the noise.

“It’s alright,” he mutters to Y/n, who has only just pulled her knives from their scabbards. Absently, he feels worry for his human friend, who, with the slow reflexes that are a fault of her kin, could have already been killed, had the threat been serious. “It’s just the gate.”

“Oh.” She blinks, and puts her weapons away somewhat stiffly. “We should go, shouldn’t we? No sense in standing around in the dark longer than necessary.”

Legolas turns his head back to her, and knows the moment has passed. The certainty he saw before has vanished, and the wall between them risen again.

He returns his bow to his back, trying to ignore the crushing disappointment he feels. “Right. After you.” He waves her forward, and they start on the path to the gate.

A/n So now we’ve got a look into Legolas’ head! What did you think? Likes, comments, and reblogs make me so so happy, and let me know if you would like a tag :) 

Masterlist

Next part

Tag list: @angelic-kisses13 @lainphotography @anangelwhodidntfall

#lotr #lord of the rings #tolkien #legolas x reader #legolas x female reader #lotr fic #lotr imagine #legolas fic #legolas greenleaf #legolas imagine #lotr reader-insert #lotr female reader #tolkien fic #tolkien imagine #legolas #legolas fanfic #legolas x yn #legolas x y/n #legolas x you #legolas imagines

[starswornoaths]

Stories you want to write

...but haven’t yet for some reason

Tagged by: @anomaliewrites, @dragons-bones, @eremiss, and @gunbun thank you, dears!!! <3

hoo boy do I have a lot of these that I need to either write or finish writing, but I’ll focus on the big ones that haven’t hit a completed first draft:

1.) Heresy AU. I have the first chapter like halfway done, but it’s a BIG project that effectively rewrites the entirety of 3.0 and some character arcs/personalities. But I LOVE the idea of playing around with the idea that Aymeric, Estinien, and Haurchefant were all exposed to dragon’s blood in their young days of knighthood, and how that would affect their views on the war, Ishgard, and what could follow. I don’t want to post any of it until I have at least half of the chapters written so I don’t get stuck and lament not having more to update with asdjklfdsfgl.

2.) Ysayle’s return. Okay, so I wrote Moenbryda coming back during ffxivwrite this year, and I do want to incorporate it into my main writing verse, but I also intend to bring Ysayle back. I refuse to leave her like that. She deserved better, too.

3.) more of Serella and Uthen’s childhood, and the destruction of their village. I’m lumping the two concepts together by virtue of wanting to show key moments in their childhood to show it was a happy, loving family and a wonderful community and that they have Very Good Reasons to hate the Twelveswood. Elmvale’s destruction is such a dark turning point for both of them, and a Major Trauma for the whole surviving Arcbane family and I need to actually write it.

4.) Serella and Uthen living with the Duskwight tribe that takes them in. Despite the trauma and what loss they were coping with, the tribe is just as much family to them, and they had many, many happy memories there, and I want to articulate that. I also want to show how Serella nearly walked the same path as Estinien, consumed by hatred and vengeance, until she finally let herself grieve and listened to the elder of the village and learned how to cope.

5.) Serella reuniting with the tribe again after the Calamity. She left to try and buy them time to get farther away from the fighting, but she stayed to try and help those who were struggling and couldn’t avoid what was happening in the Twelveswood. After she wakes up following the fall of Dalamud, she finds the tribe again, and has to show the elder her new crystal, explain what happened, and learn what that will mean for her.

6.) Serella leaving the duskwight tribe to get on the carriage that 2.0 starts off in. It’s a bittersweet farewell, but one that the tribe has helped her prepare for, and it’s a little bit tearful and there’s a lot of promises to come back when she can. Which...I also need to write.

7.) Serella and Aymeric’s first time, for reals, no honestly actually canon this time. I wrote something for the first ffxivwrite a couple years ago, but I ultimately deleted it because I felt like it didn’t flow right for them, in terms of in their timeline or really how either of them would have taken it. So now it’s happening the night before she leaves for Ala Mhigo and the start of Stormblood, in the Carline Canopy, because they deserve at least a little time of fluff and reassurance before all hell literally breaks loose. Speaking of...

8.) Aymeric receiving word of the attack on Rhalgr’s Reach- and what happened to Serella. And also her contacting him saying she’s fine but won’t be available because whoops, she’s headed to Doma and no she doesn’t want to talk about it byeeeeeeee (which is. not a healthy way to cope, and they both know it, but like. what can he really do?)

9.) More about Persephone and their struggles during the final days, and what happened after. And how they came to love a certain someone who chose to follow them to the literal ends of the earth, and beyond that. What’s their name? No idea. Is it the Amaurotine version of Aymeric? Maaaaaaybe :3c

10.) Aymeric’s investigation into Serella’s actions as a DRK, and the culmination of it. I’ve been flip flopping on whether it ends in a trial by combat pitting Serella against Aymeric (special shout out to @to-the-voiceless for their INCREDIBLE fic depicting that that made me go “OH WAIT BUT THAT’S SO GOOD???” but I’m finally in a place where I’ve made a decision to split it down the middle and do something different for a whole new angle of angst so. Please look forward to it >:3c

I have so many more but I’ll stop or I’ll be here all night adfjdfkghjdrfklgh

tagging: @nuclearanomaly, @rhymingteelookatme, @whitherliliesbloom, @onwesterlywinds, and you!

#asks #this was a lot of fun! #mun blabs about writing #I can't stress this enough when I say this is maybe a tenth of what I have in drafts/idea lists adakl;sjdhkghdfklg

[ardent-musings]

The Girl Who Vanished (Part 1)

Chapter 7: The Diviner’s Accusation

"Bibiana, you've got to put that book down!" Lucian laughed, as he dropped his spoon in order to judge her better and smirk at her.

It had been around a month since she had gotten the book from Snape and despite her honest intentions to use it to prank the twins, she had actually found the book interesting. Sure, she was reading way more than required which even made Calista side-eye her, but she couldn't help it. It was fascinating to learn of all the things their incompetent DADA teacher wasn't teaching. This book was something she wished she could share with the rest of the first years. Merlin knows they could use it.

"Why do I have to put it down? I like reading," she defended herself. Refusing to take her eye off the pages, she reached out for her water goblet only to knock it over in the process. Quickly she lifted the book so it wouldn't get wet and Alex swiped it right out of her hand.

"You brought it to the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff match last week, Ana. Enough is enough," Alex complained.

"That game ended with a 250 to 20 score, I'm sorry but halfway through the game it was pretty obvious who was going to win!" Ana countered, holding her hand out for her book.

"You bring it to the loo!"

Ana's eyes were like daggers on Alex, given that the girl had stolen her book, but also because she didn't need the rest of the Slytherin table to know that she did, in fact, bring the book to the bathroom. Ana nearly snarled as she reached out for the book.

"No, you don't deserve it back," Alex put the book underneath her and preceded to sit on it. Calista and Lucian laughed at her, as Ana continued to pout.

"I was just getting to the Accio charm" Ana whined. "I will go over there and snatch that thing from your under your butt!"

"I'd like to watch you try that one out, blondie," Lucian chuckled into his drink.

Maybe they were right. She had been reading that book for weeks, winter break was already approaching. It wasn't like she was neglecting her other classes. Godric, she had even been able to keep up with working with Professor Sprout in the greenhouses all this time. She would just flip through the pages of her book while tending to some of the more mild mannered plants. But still she was getting done what she had to.

"Why did you want that book in the first place," Calista asked her while she was pouring Alex more pumpkin juice when her glass got empty.

"I wanted a book that maybe had more outlandish potions in it; one that I could use to prank the twins," Ana admitted. "But Professor Snape gave me that one instead, and well. You can obviously tell I like it."

All though if she were honest, since she got the book, the thought of pranking the twins had pretty much entirely disappeared from her mind. She found herself more fascinated with the charms and incantations she found as she stayed up until two in the morning, scanning through the pages. Thank god her bed had a canopy to hide her reading or else that the girls would have another thing to make fun of.

"Well it's been weeks since they pranked you last, I'm thinking your window for getting them back has expired. Why bother at this point?"

Ana sat there waiting for either the conversation to end or her getting her book back. Neither seemed to be happening. A brushing of Lucian's arm beside her startled her; he had reached over to her fruit bowl and stabbed a strawberry. He held the fruit out for her and he looked at her like a mother trying to feed their insolent baby. She bit it off but not without rolling her eyes at his overprotective gesture.

"You haven't eaten at all, Ana," Lucian rationalized. "It's been half an hour and I'm not going to let you leave here without eating an actual meal."

"No meal, no book," Calista added while Alex began to shimmy side to side on top of the book for good measure. Alex cheekily winked at Ana, while Lucian held up a fork to her. She took it reluctantly, figuring that they were right. And as if on cue her stomach began to grumble and all of them laughed at the sound.

"Okay, fine," Ana conceded with a giggle as she began placing some food on her plate. Whenever she felt like she had enough, Lucian would serve another scoop and gave her a look that told her she shouldn't complain. And the more she ate the more she realized that maybe her attention had been too involved in the book. Actually talking with her friends and hearing what happened at the Quidditch game she neglected to watch felt made her realize just how distracted she had become. But she was excited to start spending more time with them again.

After she had eaten probably the more food than all of last week, Ana was tiredly rubbing her stomach. She hadn't eaten everything Lucian gave her, but also he gave her enough to feed a troll. He began scraping at the bits left on her plate when she shook her head furiously. She couldn't eat another bite.

"Lucian, cool it. She's gonna explode if you keep force feeding her," Alex joked, while splitting a brownie with Calista, giving the other girl the bigger half.

"Piss off, Lex," he laughed, letting the fork go with a clang.

"How are you feeling now?" Calista began pulling apart her half of the brownie.

They all looked at her with prideful smiles. They had gotten what they wanted at her expense. But Ana couldn't ignore how much better she felt having eaten.

"You know, maybe the twins got bored of me," Ana laughed. "I mean the prank idea seemed good at the time, but they haven't done anything outrageous for weeks!"

"So you're going to return the book?" Alex asked, slipping the book out from under her butt. She held it beside her, flaunting it like a bag of one million galleons.

"I'm not going to return the book," Ana reached for it and Alex whipped her hand back to sit on it again. "But I will cool it with the reading."

Alex looked at Calista for confirmation and the girl nodded. Regretfully, Alex gave her the book which Alex immediately put into her bag. She wanted them to know that she was there with them in the moment. Reading before bed could be her thing instead, she compromised.

The four spent the rest of the meal talking about the upcoming Quidditch match which was going to be between Slytherin and Hufflepuff. Lucian was bouncing with excitement, probably producing enough energy to light up a small town. That was until Derrick pulled him to the side to talk about practice. Calista was telling Alex all about a muggle movie she just had to watch and Ana just enjoyed watching all of them engage in their small conversations.

Her eyes drifted over to the Gryffindor table to see the twins dangling a piece of spaghetti over Lee's head while Angelina started launching meatballs into his mouth. They were laughing and reeling when Lee started swatting the food away., which made Ana smile. They were annoying but she was content knowing that within their circle, they were happy like she was. Maybe their mutual hatred would disappear and they could just exist in the same space together. Ana imagined she could settle with that. George nudged at his brother when he noticed the girl was staring at them. She quickly replaced her smile with a pointed look, not wanting them to know that she was looking at the group admirably. She was a Slytherin after all.

Fred then pulled out a napkin and swiped a quill out of the hand of his brother Percy, who was trying to study beside them. The older boy hardly protested, and George hovered over Fred as the boy began scribbling. His twin was giggling, looking pleased with whatever his brother wrote. With a fold of the paper and a flick of his wand, the piece of paper, rocketed into her lap, nearly hitting Alex in the back of the head.

Given up, Malfoy? Make your move or we'll just have another go.

Gred & Forge

Lucian looked at the note and scoffed, looking up at the twins and playfully beckoning for them to approach him while banging on his chest. The twins laughed in response and Fred winked over at the two of them. Alex grabbed the note and asked her if she was going to prank them back.

"I don't think so," Ana sighed. "To be honest I don't think I care enough to devise a whole plan just for a prank. Sure their reaction would have been priceless, but ignoring their little pranks sounds far less exhausting."

"Good call," Calista beamed at her friend from across the table, popping the last bit of brownie into her mouth.

"Besides, I want to spend more time with everyone before Christmas break!" she admitted. "I guess I didn't realize how much I've been neglecting you guys."

"How very touching," Aeron sniggered as he zoomed past the four of them, not stopping for them to respond to his intrusion. Alex jumped to her feet ready to pounce, until Calista grabbed her by her shoulders and shoved her back down.

"One day he needs a whooping!" Alex shouted, making the three of them burst out laughing. All of them had been thoroughly annoyed with Aeron, and to a degree they all agreed with her. The sound caught the attention of Fred Weasley. The sound of Ana's laugh was something he noticed whenever it popped up. It didn't happen much, so when she laughed with the entirety of her chest, he couldn't help but notice. Maybe one day he could get her to laugh like that.

But as quickly as the sound came, it grew further and further from him as she and the rest of her friends got up and headed out of the Great Hall.

"No, Calista, I don't know what a Walkman is!" Ana giggled as her friend was going on a rampage about some muggle group called Nirvana. From what Ana could tell the songs they sang were all a bit mad. Alex and Lucian kept asking questions about the musical group when a tall, scraggly woman stumbled around a corner and into Ana. Lucian caught the girl before she could slam into the ground, and the woman used Ana to regain her balance.

"Professor Trelawney are you okay?" Lucian asked the frazzled woman, her eyes magnified by the huge lenses that sat on her pointed nose. The woman however did not care for Lucian as she grabbed Ana's shoulders in a bruising grip, and hoisted her up against the wall behind her, smacking the girl's head on the stone.

"Professor!" Lucian bellowed, coming over to Ana's side. The woman's clammy forehead pressed firmly against the Ana's as she bellowed in a demonic tone-

"The child born in fire and smoke, born under the reign of Ganymede will prove to be most helpful when her body returns to the earth!"

The woman was screaming at Ana with only an inch between them and it took all of Ana's energy to not burst into panicked tears. She tried to struggle out of the woman's grip, but the professor's bony fingers dug even deeper into her shoulder, practically splitting the muscle in half. Ana let out a cry of pain but that did nothing to help. The girl's legs had been hauled off the floor by the Professor's talons, resulting in bleeding digs at her skin.

"Coming from many, belonging to none, liar to all, loyal to some. She will cease to exist at the hands of those that lay in her very house. From once she was born, forever the parasite, she will relinquish all she has gained in order to vanquish that who tore her in two."

Ana dropped to the hard floor in a heap, her legs collapsed beneath her once she was released. Her head was spinning and she could hardly breathe. The knot in her stomach and the pounding in her head wasn't just from the roughness of the teacher, but her words made Ana break out in a cold sweat. She was shaking violently, unable to wrap her head around the vitriol the professor spat at her.

Alex and Calista helped her to her feet, noticing the blood on the back of her head and at the base of her neck. The splotch of red completely soaked through the silver of her hair. Her skin had been scratched raw at her shoulders. But Ana couldn't focus. She couldn't focus on being led to the hospital, or when Professor Trelawney came out of her trance in a snap.

But a pair of red heads watched with worried eyes as she stared out into the distance, emotionless and stiff. The only thing the girl could focus on was the blurry lights that clouded her vision and the passing of the school walls until she was placed on a soft surface. As soon as she was laid down everything went black.

The night had passed by in a whirl. She remembered leaving the Great Hall and then being scared half out of her mind by someone with the largest eyes she'd ever seen. Everything was a bit blurry, but the woman's eyes stuck out. That and the deep growling voice that felt like blades across the skin. Or maybe that was just the woman's nails that did a number on her shoulders that really felt like knives.

Ana found that a large bandage had been wrapped around her head and plaster was stuck at the base of her neck when she woke up. Her shoulders ached and the split on her head hurt, but it wasn't the most banged up she'd ever been. She began stretching, trying to loosen the stiffness in her muscles when a glimmer of glass caught her eye and she found a vial next to her bed.

Please don't get injured. It makes delivering your medicine incredibly hard on me. -S.S.

She rolled her eyes at her professor's note; of course he would make it about himself. But she did appreciate that he was able to get it to her, so she drank it without hesitation.

An echo in her head kept replaying the words that the woman said. The pieces were scattered and she knew that she would not be able to make sense of it all on her own. The room was nearly empty except for a sixth year Ravenclaw who she had learned was injured in the Quidditch game she neglected to pay attention to. He had is arm in a sling and his foot was elevated on some sort of a contraption that was connected to the ceiling. She started regretting not seeing that injury take place. It must've been gnarly if that was the aftermath.

A few hours passed and as soon as Madam Pomfrey opened up the doors to visitors, Calista, Alex, and Lucian rammed themselves into the wing. They began to bombard her with questions about her condition and they brought her strawberries and a mountain of baked goods from the Great Hall. Madam Pomfrey hollered at the group for how loud they were at so early in the morning. The Ravenclaw student stirred uncomfortably in his sleep.

Her friends were going back and forth about what could've possessed Trelawney to act that way, juggling between drinking an insanity poison and being cured. They spoke of it so lightly as if they didn't even care about what the teacher said, but her mind was reeling at the memory. Lucian was sitting at a chair to the side while the girls sat at the base of her cot. Ana found that nibbling on her chocolate chip muffin was the best use of her time.

"Hey, Malfoy," Lucian leaned in, crouching himself in half in order to get near her. "You okay?"

The girls stopped talking to pay attention to their friend, Alex took it upon herself to nibble on one of Ana's bagels. Calista smacked the girl's arm, so Alex offered her some.

"I just-" Ana kept picking at the muffin, scraping the crumbs off the wrapper, "I can't help but think about what she said."

"I know! She sounded so angry," Calista agreed softly.

"It's not about how she said it, Cal, okay?" Ana sighed, trying to make sense of her own thoughts so she wouldn't come off the wrong way. "Trelawney said some creepy stuff and I just don't know what to think about it. But you guys are only concerned about how she was acting. Why is no one but me worried about what she said?"

The girls looked at each other nervously and Lucian dragged his stool closer. He looked at her sullenly, letting out a labored sigh as he struggled to find something to say. Ana stared at him in anticipation, eagerly waiting his comment while fearing it at the same time.

"The thing is, we don't want you to worry about what she said. One time she said that a dragon was going to sweep me off my feet. And I don't think I'm going to be fancying a date with a dragon anytime soon," he chuckled lightly, trying to make the situation less heavy. Ana humored him and offered him a soft smile but she knew it wasn't going to be convincing. "I understand why you are upset though. Trelawney didn't say the most cheery things, did she?"

"No, she didn't. Merlin, what did she say? Something about 'being useful when she's dead'? What does that even mean?" Ana slumped in her cot, her feet resting on Alex's lap.

"I don't know how anyone can be useful when they're dead. Because, well, they're dead," Alex wondered.

"Thank you so much for your input, Alex," Ana mocked with a smirk which Alex responded with by sticking out tongue.

The large wooden doors creaked open and a pair of red headed boys walked in silently which was a sight to behold. Those boys were never ever silent, and yet they marched over to her with smirks on their freckled faces. Without a word, they bowed at the hip and George held out a piece of parchment to Ana which she accepted cautiously. As soon as the paper left his hands, they sprang back up and ran out the wing. They didn't even make eye contact with her; they were in and out so fast.

Ana started giggling as soon as they left the hospital wing, and she stared at the tiny piece of paper in her hand.

Considering your condition, we'll call this a cease fire. You have the holiday break to relax. But once we're back in January, it's game on.

Gred & Forge

"They are sparing me until next year," Ana laughed as she passed the parchment to Calista, who chuckled and passed it to Alex.

"They don't know that you've given up on pranking them do they?" Lucian asked her, laying his elbows on her cot. Thankfully, she was sitting crisscross or else there would be no room for her to be on her own bed. Ana shook her head at the boy and he smiled widely. "Well enjoy your month and a half of peace because that's the most you're going to get."

Ana hated it, but he was right. She grimaced at the thought and laid her head back, accidently smacking her sore head on the iron rail of the cot. Lucian jumped at her smack, looking at her with a pitiful smile as she rubbed the sore spot. Winter break couldn't come fast enough.

#fred weasley #fred weasley smut #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley x oc #bibiana malfoy #the girl who vanished #tgwv #tgwv 1-7 #enemies to friends to lovers

[benichi]

Money Jar and Illusion of Choice

aka Story Jar by NTT Solmare and Love Choice by Otome Romance (former Voltage Inc.) Since I haven’t been around much the last few weeks and because I got an ask about it I decided to look at these new ways to “enjoy” Otome games. I already vented about Money-... I mean Love Jar yesterday, and while Voltage isn’t quite as hardcode (yet) it still should be talked about.

I’ll start with Masquerade Kiss, Otome Romance (former Voltage Inc.)’s new game which introduces Love Choice as a way to read Main Stories. Apparently the only way for future releases. Though it doesn’t matter much where I start since both of these new “systems” have a lot in common. This is how the Love 365 app greets you currently.

FOR FREE OMG. However as you know nothing in life is free, if you look closely you’ll see “Use hearts to read without wait times ♪”. So literally in the same breath they tell you that this new system is shit. We’ll take a more in-depth look at those wait times later because they play a big role for this entire new system, including the situation in Story Jar. To put the second part into words that aren’t sugar coated “Use money to deepen your affection! If you want to see CG’s and get a satisfactory ending you had better open that wallet of yours cause those are behind a paywall♪“. Otome Romance (former Voltage Inc.) is trying to be charming about this but the bottom line is: without money you get the short end of the stick. Which isn’t all bad or uncommon. They are a company so obviously they have to make money. But they’ve come up with quite a cunning way to do just that.

CELEBRATION! NOW OR NEVER! READ THE WHOLE STORY WITHOUT WAITING!!! WHAT A NEW AND REVOLUTIONARY CONCEPT?! HAS THIS EVER HAPPENED BEFORE? Yes. That’s the old system we’ve had until now. Where you pay 4€ once and own the entire thing to read at your own pace and revisit as often as you’d like. I honestly couldn’t help but scoff when this screen showed up as I was playing. 

Which brought me to my first question. Why don’t they simply let us consumers choose between buying the entire thing and this “f2p” version? It’s the same simple answer for all questions related to this topic:  💰 💰 💰

The elaborate explanation is that obviously no one would touch this “f2p” version unless they’re forced to. As stated above stories used to be 4€. However Love Choice is much more expensive.

This part made me especially sick. They know exactly that for a lot of us Otoge is something we use to treat ourselves. These sugar coated words “special” “exciting outcomes” “spicy ending” aim exactly for that. You’re already here, surely you don’t want to miss this super special spicy scintillating sexy breathtaking ending.

However that’s not even the worst part yet. One choice costs 5 hearts which is not too bad right? Too good to be true almost, which is exactly what’s happening here. As you progress the amount of hearts needed steadily increases. The biggest amount one choice costs is 26 hearts.

That singular choice plus CG costs almost as much as an entire route with all CG’s etc. used to cost (400 Coins).

Granted as you can see above you “only” need 12 points to get the super special spicy scintillating sexy breathtaking ending. Which means you don’t always have to select the ~special choice~. However the amount of points you get per special choice is different each time (ranging from 1pt to 3pts), there’s no other way to earn them. So unless you use a Walkthrough you’re grasping at straws. Like here, you’ll get a CG sure but only 1pt. In theory a choice with 3pts is more lucrative but who knows when one of those might show up.

Ultimately guessing whether the money you’ve invested so far will be enough to get you that desired ending might be more thrilling than Eisuke 2.0 trying to shove his tongue into your mouth.

Let’s get back to our numbers though. In order to get all the CG’s + that super special ending you’ll need at least 85 hearts. Which basically translates to 900 Coins.

11€. Only possible if you play it smart by using a Walkthrough, which means someone else took the plunge and paid the whooping 22€ instead. Because that’s what you’ll have to pay if you go for every single special choice. Granted you don’t have to spend the entire 2000 Coins, there are 300 left over because Otome Romance (former Voltage Inc.) simply never offers the exact amount of 1700 Coins you’d need. But what do these leftover 300 coins even do for you? Nothing much anymore as we’ve seen.

Plus there’s the wait times we haven’t experienced yet. I mean how much does it cost if I don’t want to wait for 5 hours? Will those “leftover” 300 coins even cover that? A part of me honestly doesn’t even want to know.

Moving on to the illusion of having a choice. As stated above the only way to raise points is by using money. Only these paid choices change the Love Meter. Every other ~choice~ might as well not be there because it doesn’t make a difference. Let’s look at this one scene in particular. For context my dude Kazuomi Shido wants to get rid of a woman because she “knows too much”.

As stated before you could skip this special choice and still get that ~Super Happy Ending~. I mean ppffft what’s she to me amirite? Random Woman Nr.1 is definitely not worth my 50 coins.

But how is this enjoyable? How am I supposed to be pleased knowing that the only way to get a different ending is paying up. That my choices don’t matter except for the ones where I make it rain money for Otome Romance (former Voltage Inc.). They might as well just remove the “choices” and sell the entire story for 11€ or 22€ if they’re feeling bold. 

But again, if the amount you spend was displayed in such a blunt way no one would ever go near these stories. I mean just look at Wand of Fortune (Story Jar). A single route consists of 27 Chapters (the 1st one being free). One Chapter costs 20 diamonds. So to read everything you’ll need 520 diamonds, which translates to 44€. How is this real life? Who thought this was a good idea?

Which brought me to my next question: What’s up with this sudden increase we see for the amount of Chapters? Could we be... getting more for our money? Again, no. It’s still all about them getting more  💰 💰 💰

Because each Chapter is incredibly short. And while the Chapters in Masquerade Kiss at least make sense despite their shortness the same can’t even be said for Wand of Fortune.

I think this sudden rise serves a few different purposes. Obviously more Chapters means more money. In WoF you just straight up have to pay and in Love Choice it gives them the option to put in even more “””special choices”””. Plus when there’s no CELEBRATION NOW OR NEVER PLAY WITHOUT WAIT TIMES event that’s another point where you could possibly pay to progress more quickly. I mean 5 hours wait time means you’ll only get to play 4 Chapters per day. If that’s even an option for you. I certainly can’t whip out my phone at work to get raunchy with Eisuke 2.0 simply because 5 hours have passed. But that’s an entirely different matter.

But what else is happening here? Honestly these Chapter splits are nothing but sneaky practices to pick the money right out of our pockets. By splitting the costs into different Chapters people will be less aware of how much they’re actually paying. If they straight up tried to sell one story for 44€ or 22€ who in their right mind would buy that? Unless you sit down and do the math first you’ll just kind of pay slowly as you progress the story. Plus on Love Choice you don’t even necessarily have the option to figure out how much it’ll cost in the end unless you go through the thing for yourself once or find someone that wrote everything down. At this point we can’t even say if the requirements for Kazuomi’s route are the norm. Are 85 hearts always the minimum requirement? 169 the most? There’s no telling at this point.

What I do know at this point however is that these companies are taking advantage of us. It’s true, we are currently in a dire situation. Our niche market is slowly running cold with the Vita being officially dead and no announcements for the Switch overseas. Currently mobile games are the only thing that’s going strong in the Otome Market here. But this? This can’t be it!

I won’t pay for a game that’s so completely butchered from it’s original release that it's barely functional and makes no sense. With core mechanics and voice acting removed. I won’t pay to be stripped from the right to make my own choices in a visual novel and to be played like a fiddle with all these sugar coated words that hide shrewed tricks.

Only if you give him 13 hearts first though. I gotta admit the image of Kazuomi standing there with his palm stretched out like 

“I could stick my tongue into your mouth BUT that’ll be 2,29€ first. We don’t take checks, by the way” is a little funny but ultimately too expensive for my taste.

I honestly understand that these are not easy times to be a fan of Otome Games. However, if we let these companies play us like this then we’ve already lost. Why would Aksys or any other company bother translating major titles that take so much more effort to localize if mobile Otoge with considerably less work can be sold for almost the same amount? I mean if someone pays 44€ per route that’s 264 € for the entire “game”. You could probably buy half of the Vita games Aksys has released so far with that amount. Maybe all of them if you wait for sales, this is insanity.

And 22€ is in no way better either. Just think of all the things you can buy for that amount of money, I mean not even games. Plus Otome Romance (former Voltage Inc.) is becoming worse and worse as time goes on. I’ve defended them for a long time because in a way I’m grateful. I still remember when Pirates in Love was practically the only thing we had. But I’ve reached my limit. Love Choice is just as bad as Story Jar. 

This post has become long enough, but I’ll add this later or make a seperate post of how f2p can work. I don’t want to be misunderstood, I know some people prefer f2p instead of just buying the entire stories which is perfectly fine. But these two companies have missed the mark completely and we have to be vocal about it.

PS: If you want to experience good f2p games please check out Cybird games, they’re our only hope in these unholy times.

#story jar #love 365 #love choice #otome romance #ntt solmare #Masquerade Kiss #wand of fortune #voltage inc

[disgruntledkittenface]

11/11/11

thank you @a-brighter-yellow @runaway-train-works and @allwaswell16 for tagging me! I took a few questions from each list to answer. 

What fic have you written that you wish everyone would read?

I think bambi legs. I love this fic, it has the warmth and heart that I wanted to infuse in it, and I’m just really proud of it. I’m not sure how many hits to expect on a girl direction fic, but sometimes I see the stats and I think oh, I wish more people had been into it.

Can you listen to or watch anything while you write? What?

Nope, nothing, I can’t concentrate with something on. It’s funny because I listened to Niall’s Spotify playlist the entire time I was writing my first fic, but ever since then I need quiet.

Do your close family/friends outside the fandom read your fics?

No, not really – I did send the first few to my best friend outside of the fandom, but that’s it. Oh, other than @queenofquiet17 who is the mother of the Grace x Karen/Will 7 Grace fandom, she reads all my stuff before I post it. I don’t really have the energy to, like, educate people about fanfic as a hobby, so I just keep it to fandom space mostly.

Is it important to you to describe what your main characters are wearing in every scene? Do you try to pick canon outfits? 

I love nothing more than picking canon outfits, I have entire lookbooks for a fic I will never write languishing in my google docs. My last published fic was crafted specifically around canon outfits. But I haven’t been going out of my way to describe outfits that aren’t a plot point in my current WIP, like unless there’s a reason to specify which ugly cardigan I mean or something.

What’s your favorite comment you’ve ever received?

I fucking love all positive comments, but this one on bambi legs is a forever fave: 

i loved this fic so much. i loved how sweet it was! it was amazing! and i just wanted to thank you for the part where harry is talking to louis about how she feels about the whole asexual thing. it felt so good to read what ive been coming to terms with written down in such a good fic!

What is a fic that you hope to write someday?

I still really want to a Grace Kelly AU and I’m definitely planning on it, but I got totally sidetracked this year. I told myself this could be the fic where I aim for like 100k, but I’m coming to terms with the fact that I just don’t write fics that long. I would love to do it for Big Bang next year, but that’s a huge commitment so I’m not sure.

How often do you spend writing in an average week and is there a certain time of day/day of the week you do it?

This is terrible, but I get most of my writing done in bits and snatches during the workday. Something in me really responds to sitting at a desk? Which is not a setup I have at home. How much time I spend writing totally depends on the week and on the fic, I think. My current wip is split into somewhat short chapters, I think the longest is 5.6k, and I seem to be writing half of a chapter in a day, revising it over a few days, repeat for the second half of the chapter, then a week break to mull the next.

Are you an outliner or do you like to wing it? 

I love an outline so fucking much, but the past few projects, I’ve been winging it a little more than usual and letting myself find the fic a bit more as I go. I could never do away with an outline altogether, I don’t think. Even if I just wrote a first chapter on the fly, I know myself, I would immediately open a notes doc and start structuring.

What’s your favorite fic promo post you (or a collaborator) has ever made?  

I am a huge fan of the moodboard for When this all gets old, I saved this on my phone for like months:

Um, @crinkle-eyed-boo is really good at them, all of hers are fab. I also like all of mine, every single one.

What’s your most popular fic and why do you think it’s your most popular?

By far, you came into my life, and I think for a few reasons. One, Queer Eye is/was hugely popular and I think this was the first or one of the first AUs. It was a good length at 57k, long but not intimidatingly so? And I think people connected to it because it came from a really honest and relatable place. A lot of us have explored/learned about sexuality through fic and I feel like I reflected back a lot of that journey for me in writing this one.

What can people expect from your next fic?

Okay, people have been overwhelmingly kind every time I share last lines and snippets and I love you all, but I’m nervous to share this one. You can expect fluff because Harry and Louis meet for the first time and start dating. You can expect a cat and probably too many coffee references because that’s just my whole deal. There’s vampires which I understand are canceled today?? (Maggie for the whoops.) 

But you can also expect, like, frank discussions of grieving and feeling depressed, and that might be – understandably so – too much for a lot of people. I’m being super withholding and only showing it to one friend so far and she said the balance of fluff and grieving is working really well so fingers crossed, guys.

THANK YOU FOR TAGGING ME, I love seeing everyone’s answers and getting to write my own, but I have to go beta things and then write more, so I’m not going to spend the hours I know I would trying to think of a new set of questions

#11/11/11 #depressed vampire au #queer eye au

[chicgeekgirl89]

Arachnophobia: Chapter 1

A/N: I wrote for not-my-fandom again. I think I’m like...in now. Whoops. Sonny whump inside! 

“Shit!” Sonny said in surprise and then, “Fuck!” as his second boot landed deeply in the mud beside his first. Within seconds he was up to his knees. “What the—“

There was a crunch behind him and he threw out a hand in warning, craning his neck around as far as he could since his legs refused to do anything except sink. “Wait! Hold up! Don’t come down here!”

Clay’s face appeared first, weapon drawn, his eyes narrow with concern. It took him a second to realize what he was seeing but when he did his face split into a wide grin. “Don’t you say a word,” Sonny warned as he tried to wade back toward him to no avail. He nearly face planted and it took every bit of core strength he had to keep himself upright. “God damn it!”

“You a little stuck there buddy?” Clay said.

“Will you quit smirking and get me out of here?”

There was more rustling and Jason and the rest of the team appeared through the trees. “Careful boys!” Clay said. “We’ve got a situation here.”

“Sonny, we can’t take you anywhere,” Ray said with a laugh.

“I am not the only one who didn’t know there was a mud hole through these trees!” Sonny said. He was nearly up to his hips at this point. “I just happened to be the only one brave enough to go first. So you’re welcome that you’re not all down in this mess with me.”

“You know people pay a lot of money for stuff like this,” Jason said.

“Yeah it naturally exfoliates your skin,” Trent said.

When they all looked at him he shrugged. “What? I listen to the women in my life.”

“You mean your mother?” Brock said with a snicker.

“Would you all shut the fuck up and get me out of here!” Sonny snarled as he sank another inch.

“All right, all right.” Jason took a few steps closer and then braced himself, reaching for Sonny’s arm. “One, two, three!”

In the end it took all of them hauling his sorry ass up the slope to free him from his muddy prison. “I fucking hate the rainforest,” Sonny gasped when he was finally lying on solid ground again.

They’d been in Brazil for a week hunting down someone on Mandy’s wanted list. It was the rainy season, hell it was probably always the rainy season, and they’d spent a good deal of their time hiking up and down the rainforest. It was a recon only mission and it had all gone exactly according to plan, meaning mood on the way out was fairly high, even if they did have to walk practically half the country to reach the exfil site. Apparently setting a chopper down in the rainforest was kind of a big no no.

“Yeah well it obviously hates you right back buddy,” Jason said, slapping his shoulder. “Up and at ‘em boys. We’ve got another six miles to cover today.”

Six miles in his sodden, muddy gear. Perfect. Sonny tried to wipe some of it off but the stuff clung to him like glue. “Of all the damn places in the world, we’ve got to end up traipsing through the jungle,” he grumbled as they walked.

“If we were in the desert you’d be complaining about the sand,” Clay said.

“You know for a guy who knew what he was signing up for when he joined the team you seem awfully surprised that it’s not always a vacation,” Ray told him.

“I’m just saying would it be so bad to have a mission that took us somewhere that the nature didn’t want to kill us faster than the baddies?” Sonny asked.

“And where exactly would that be?” Trent replied. “I don’t think they authorize too many covert ops in the Bahamas.”

“I said somewhere the nature wouldn’t kill us,” Sonny shot back. “They have sharks in the Bahamas. Do you know how many--”

“All right, enough,” Jason said. “The next time they authorize a mission to Boise you can head it up. Until then, quit whining and walk faster. Emma’s got some kind of recital thing coming up and if I miss it I’m going to have to add another award to my Worst Father of the Year collection.”

By the time dusk arrived they were more than ready to set up camp. Everyone was tired and just wanted to get some sleep before their final hike out in the morning.

Sonny collapsed onto a fallen tree and began unlacing his boots. “Oh Sonny no!” Trent groaned and everyone else joined in the protest.

“Hey! I’ve got mud squashing between my toes. I ain’t walking out of here tomorrow with half the rainforest in my boots!” he said.

“Well at least sit downwind,” Ray told him as they began breaking into their MRE’s.

Sonny glared at him and went back to trying to remove some of the mud and debris from his gear. It was pointless, but if he kept his boots off all night at least they’d be a little drier in the morning.

“I’ll take first watch,” Brock offered.

Sonny knew he was as eager to get home as Jason. The length of their mission and hike through the jungle with who-knew-what kind of animals hanging around meant the furriest member of their team had stayed home. Brock was missing him something fierce, even if he’d never admit it, and Sonny was too. There was something comforting about having the dog’s presence with them. Without him it felt like somebody was missing from the team.

“You took first watch last night,” Jason said. “Clay’ll do it tonight.”

“Fine with me,” Clay said, shoveling in another bite of his dinner as if it was Texas BBQ rather than flavorless cardboard.

“No falling asleep on the job there kid,” Sonny said. “If you let a jaguar eat me I’ll kill you.”

“It would take one bite of you and spit it right back out,” Brock said.

“Hey, out of this group I am obviously a jaguar’s first choice. It ain’t going for Clay’s skinny ass. That’s not going to get him very far.”

“I don’t know I think Jason looks like a pretty juicy jaguar steak,” Ray said with a grin.

“Nah, he’s way too tough,” Trent said.

“You all keep this up and I’ll feed you to a jaguar,” Jason chastened them, leaning back against a tree and closing his eyes.

One by one Sonny listened to his brothers fall asleep. After so many years together it was easy to know who had nodded off. Trent snored like a lumberjack. Jason breathed like Darth Vader. Ray tossed and turned. Brock, who was typically a pretty quiet guy, muttered things. And Clay, always Mr. Go, go, go, got so still they sometimes wondered if he was breathing.

Sonny settled against his pack, staring up at the canopy above. His skin itched and his shoulders were stiff from carrying their gear. But honestly, for all his complaints, he wouldn’t trade this for anything. Traveling the world with his brothers and blowing shit up along the way was the stuff eight-year-old Sonny had only dreamed of.

“Kinda pretty isn’t it?” Clay asked.

“If ya like trees,” Sonny said.

“Keep an eye out for snakes,” Brock said, his hat pulled down low over his face. “Drop down from the trees and wrap you up before you even know what happened.”

Sonny stared at him. Brock was a pretty serious guy, which meant you never knew when he was pulling a fast one. “Now why’d you have to go and put that thought in my head? How am I supposed to sleep knowing that there’s tree snakes up there waiting to dive bomb me?”

“With your eyes closed,” Trent said. “Shut up.”

Despite Sonny’s worries he must have drifted off at some point because the next thing he knew Ray was shaking his shoulder. “Come on. Time to move.”          

Sunlight had barely started filtering through the canopy. The others were already up gathering their gear. “What’d you guys have breakfast without me?”

“Tried to wake you three times,” Clay said. “Thought about just leaving you here to live with the monkeys but Ray said it was too much paperwork.”

“Ha ha.” Sonny stretched, his shoulders and neck popping after a long night of sleeping on the ground. “You’d better watch out young Jedi or I might just let a croc get you on our way out of here.”

“Sonny!” Jason said. “Let’s go!”

Sonny shoved his left foot into his stiff, dirty boot and pulled the laces tight. His right foot went in next and almost immediately he felt a sharp pain in his ankle. “Ow! What the—ow!!” Something stabbed him a second time and he quickly withdrew his foot.

He turned the boot over and banged it on the ground. A spider the size of his hand skittered out and slipped away through the undergrowth. “What the hell is wrong with this place?” Sonny asked as he jammed his foot back inside. The others had already started making tracks.

“Sonny let’s go man,” Clay said, disappearing through the trees.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming. Just had a spider the size of Mount Everest in my boot but sure, leave me behind. It’s fine.”

He caught up easily even with stabbing pain in his ankle. Damn thing probably jabbed him with its giant pincers or legs or antennae or whatever the hell spiders had.

“Don’t you even start with me Jason Hayes,” Ray was saying from the front of the pack. “You know you’re the worst golfer on this team.”

“You’re not particularly good yourself there Ray,” Sonny said. He shivered as goose bumps ran up and down his spine. “If I recall, last time we went out you ended up owing some pretty big dollars to the course for that golf cart you put a dent in.”

“That was Clay’s fault and you know it,” Ray said.

“I was just testing to see if your SEAL focus could stay intact even on the green,” Clay said with a cocky grin.

“Yeah how was your focus in the sand trap? Did you feel right at home there?” Jason asked.

“Just like being back in country,” Clay said.

Sonny laughed with the rest of them and then paused to adjust his boot again. Now there was a burning sensation spreading down his foot into his toes. What in the hell?

He limped a few more steps and stumbled. Clay caught his shoulder. “Careful there buddy. Don’t need a repeat of yesterday.”

Sweat dripped down his neck. He pulled at his collar. Even in the early hours of the morning the jungle was like being inside a wet paper bag.

“So what’s Emma doing at this recital?” Trent asked.

“Some song. I don’t know. Something by Lady Gaga maybe? Isn’t that who the kids are into?” Jason said.

“I say we get Sonny dressed up in that meat suit and then see how Cerb likes it,” Clay teased.

Sonny’s throat seemed strangely tight. He blinked, tried to clear the sweat out of his eyes as pain shot up his whole leg. He reached out a hand to steady himself against a tree and then found himself sinking down onto a stump.

“What are you doing?” Clay asked.

“I gotta take my boot off,” he said, trembling fingers reaching for his laces. It felt like someone was stabbing him repeatedly and he needed to fix it NOW.

“Sonny what’s up?” Ray said.

“I can’t,” he squeezed his eyes shut against the pain, “I can’t get it off!”

“Well then just leave it and come on!” Ray said.

Sonny shook his head, his breath coming out in short gasps. Clay rolled his eyes. “All right Cinderella.” He knelt and grabbed hold of the boot. Sonny had to grip the stump he was sitting on and bite his tongue to keep from yelling as the pain reached a new level of excruciating.

“What the hell?” Clay asked when it didn’t budge.

“Come on Clay, Jay’s not gonna wait for us,” Ray said.

“It won’t come off,” he said in confusion.

“What?”

“Guys,” Sonny took a breath and gritted his teeth. He’d tolerated a lot of pain in his life, he’d been blown to hell, shot, stabbed, but nothing compared to this. “I need you to get it off. Now.”

“Okay, all right, relax,” Ray said calmly. “Jay!”

The rest of the team stopped and turned around. Jason spread his hands. “What the hell are you three doing?”

“I can’t get his boot off,” Clay said.

Jason stared at him. “His boot? Why are you taking his boot off?” he looked at Sonny. “Why are you taking your boot off?”

“Jason, I swear to you, there is a god damn red hot poker in there and I need it off now,” Sonny said. He felt something akin to panic rising in him as the pain continued to increase. It was making his chest tight, his breath wheezing in and out like he’d run a marathon.

“Well just pull it off!” Jason said.

“I think his foot is swollen or something,” Clay said. “It won’t come off.”

“We could cut it,” Ray suggested.

“We still have two hours to hike. What’s he going to walk out of here with one boot on?” Jason asked.

“Sonny can you put weight on it?” Trent asked. “Whatever’s going on we can’t fix it until we get out of here anyway.”

His hands were shaking and he felt dizzy. “I can try.”

Clay and Trent helped him up and the instant he put weight on it he let out a howl and went to his knees.

“All right, all right sit down,” Trent said, pushing him back onto the stump. He looked up at Jason. “I think it’s gotta come off.”

Jason nodded grudgingly. The small part of Sonny that wasn’t in excruciating pain felt guilty for holding everybody up but he was in true agony and didn’t think he could move even if he tried.

Brock handed Trent his knife and the medic carefully began to slit the laces. Every movement caused a flare of pain. “Oh my god Trent,” Sonny said. “Just rip the damn thing off if you have to!”

Trent didn’t even spare him a glance, just kept working steadily away until he was finally able to ease the ruined shoe off.

Sonny thought he would feel instant relief but as Trent peeled his sock back alarm slammed through him. His entire foot was red and swollen with two distinct sets of puncture marks along his ankle. “What the fuck is that?” he asked in a shaky voice.

“Looks like a bite,” Trent said turning his ankle back and forth. “When did this happen?”

“I uh, maybe it was the spider that was inside my boot this morning?” Sonny said. His heart was starting to flutter uncomfortably inside his chest.

“A spider? How big? What did it look like?”

Even in the worst agony of his life Sonny spared a half second to glower at him. “Like a fucking big spider Trent.”

Trent rolled his eyes and continued his inspection. “Looks like an allergic reaction. Not much I can do. Long as it doesn’t spread you should be fine.” Privately he was a little worried about how quickly Sonny’s foot had blown up, but with no good medical help for several miles the only thing to do was keep on. He smeared antibiotic cream over the punctures and made Sonny take a couple Benadryl then nodded to Jason. “We’re good to go.”

Jason and Clay hauled Sonny to his feet. “Oh god,” he croaked as his vision blurred. His stomach turned and he swallowed hard, trying not to vomit.

“Tough it out Sonny, come on,” Jason demanded as they began to walk. He sounded harsh but Sonny knew him well enough to pick up on the subtle note of concern. If Jason was worried he must be in deep shit.

The next hour was the most miserable experience in Sonny’s recent memory. His foot burned like it was on fire. Sweat dripped down his face, stinging his eyes, and breathing seemed almost impossible. His stomach churned in his belly and was accompanied by stabbing pains there as well.  His heart was beating so loudly he could feel it in every part of his body. He wondered idly if the others could hear it as they dragged him along.

They made it another fifteen minutes before Sonny felt his knees give out. “Whoa!” Clay said, taking on his full weight.

“Trent,” Sonny gasped, “something ain’t right.”

“All right let’s get him down,” Jason ordered.

Clay and Brock helped lower him to the ground. Clay shoved his pack underneath as a makeshift pillow while Trent appeared directly above Sonny’s head. “What’s going on? Talk to me Sonny.”

 “I can’t uh, I can’t breathe,” Sonny said gasping for air. It felt like his heart was going to explode out of his chest if he didn’t die of asphyxiation first.

“Let’s get his gear off,” Trent ordered, his fingers already stripping off anything he could reach. Clay helped and in short order they had him stripped to his undershirt and pants.

“TOC this is Bravo One we have a situation here,” Jason said into his radio.

 “I—“ Sonny tried to speak but his stomach cramped violently and everything that he’d eaten in the last twenty-four hours came right back up.

“Whoa! Get him on his side!” Trent yelled.

Sonny choked and retched until there was nothing left and then the guys rolled him unceremoniously onto his back. Trent reached for his wrist and began taking his pulse with one hand while he shoved a syringe at Brock with the other. “Open this,” he ordered.

Sonny’s head was swimming and he was having a hard time following what was happening. “Trent—“ he rasped.

“I’m right here Sonny. You’re going to be fine.” But Trent’s face said he was worried. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”

 “’m dizzy,” Sonny said, closing his eyes as Brock returned the needle. “And my chest is—“

His whole body seized.

#SEAL Team #Sonny Quinn #Sonny Whump #Arachnophobia #Brazil #Spiders #Poison #Venom #Jason Hayes #Clay Spenser #Trent Sawyer #Ray Perry #Brock Reynolds #SEAL Team CBS #SEAL Team Fanfiction #Sonny Quinn Fanfiction

[you-get-to-exhale-now-cyrus]

Cyrus’ Dictionary

1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7

Summary: Cyrus has always been good with words; there’s a reason English is his favorite subject. But with TJ, he seems to be at a loss for words. When they get paired up for a summer assignment, Cyrus slowly starts to build a new dictionary. One that involves TJ and everything they do together. Along the way, maybe he’ll find the words to tell him how he feels.

Chapter 7: Mamihlapinatapai

Word Count: 4175

Read on AO3

“I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a while,” Cyrus started, gazing up with his warm eyes, “I like you so much TJ, TJ, TJ . . .TJ. . .

“TJ!”

“What?” TJ snapped awake, his leg involuntarily kicking the castle in front of him, “oh,” he muttered, upon seeing Amber in front of him.

She looked at him knowingly, pushing the pieces from the broken castle aside. “You had that dream again didn’t you,” she stated simply.

Groaning, TJ flopped back down, rubbing his eyes with his hands. “Leave me alone to sleep,” he muttered, pulling the blanket on top of his head.

“It’s like half-past noon, TJ, I’m not going to let you-”

“-wait what?” he pushed the blanket aside, scrambling to find his phone, “did you say half past noon?”

“Yeah?” Amber questioned, looking between her brother and the clock on the wall, “why? You’re late for a date with Cyrus?” she joked, heading back up the stairs.

“Not the time!” she could hear TJ call as he frantically rushed to tear off his pajama pants and slip on some shorts. “Crap,” he muttered to himself, grabbing his phone and headphones and rushing up the stairs. He slipped on sneakers, and quickly left the house, running down the sidewalk towards the basketball court. All he could hear was the quickening of his breath and his feet pounding the pavement. He could barely start to make out the trees around the court when he remembered.

His journal. It wasn’t in his pockets, and he knew he was probably going to need it today. Exhaling a frustrated breath, he started jogging back home, realizing that he was probably going to lose to Marty if he kept up at this rate.

Before he went inside, he took a moment to compose himself. He had a plan; walk in, grab the journal, leave. He took one step inside and was greeted by his mother, holding his journal in her hand.

His journal.

The one where he wrote about Cyrus and how much fun it was to be around him. He could feel his throat seizing up, breathing now becoming the second most important thing. The first was getting that journal into his hand.

“What’s this?” she asked, her voice low and quiet. That usually meant she knew something, but she was waiting for TJ to tell her what it was.

“My. . .journal,” he choked out, “for my journalism class,” he added. He felt like he was going to faint, each word taking an immense amount of effort. Dizziness overcame him, and he had to casually lean on the wall for stability.

“Hm,” she hummed, flicking mindlessly through the first few pages, “there’s a lot about. . .that kid in here,” she noted, her tone with a bit of a bite to it. TJ felt like he was going to be sick.

“We’re partners,” he breathed out, swallowing thickly, his hands starting to tremble against the wall, “and . . . we write about the day’s activities. I, uh, I’m going to shoot hoops with Marty, so can I,” he gestured vaguely to where she was standing.

She stared at him for a moment, her tired eyes trying to read him, but his gaze was on the small book in her hand. “Just,” she paused, extending her arm out, “be careful around him,”

“Yup,” he squeaked out, swiping the journal from her grasp and running out the door, regaining a sense of relaxation. The nausea that came with being around his mom whenever Cyrus was concerned slowly eased away. Again, he ran down the sidewalk, the familiar sight of the trees in the distance putting him at ease. As he pulled up to the court, he took a second to catch his breath before waltzing out with as much confidence as he could muster.

“Kippen, where’ve you been?” Marty asked him, “it’s,” he looked at his watch, “almost one in the afternoon,”

“You missed me whooping his ass,” Buffy piped up, poking his side gently, to which Marty burst out in a fit of giggles, pushing her away.

“I wouldn’t use that terminology. More like, you slightly edged me out, but only because the sun was in my eyes,” he defended, crossing his arms.

“Right,” Buffy mumbled, looking at TJ like he was a camera on The Office, “so, long night?”

TJ nodded. “I went to bed kinda late last night, almost 4 I think? I just. . .couldn’t sleep,” he lied, grabbing the basketball from Buffy’s feet and dribbling it absentmindedly.

“Something on your mind?” Buffy prodded, breaking out into a full grin.

“. . .something like that,” TJ muttered, shaking his head slightly, “so, how are your journals coming along? Considering you spend every moment attached at the hip,” he mused, twirling the ball in his hand.

“Pretty good,” Marty supplied, pushing his hair back, “We already have a bunch of entries in there and a ton of pictures,” he chuckled, giving Buffy a look, “how about you?”

“Oh it’s. . .great,” he lied, nodding, “it’s been fun, hanging out with Cyrus and, like, actually doing things. Makes the summer go by a little faster,”

Marty nodded in acknowledgement, taking the ball from TJ. “Did you invite Cyrus to come watch us play?”

TJ shook his head. “It completely slipped my mind, considering I slept in,”

“We should all go to the Spoon for lunch, then,” Buffy suggested, “you can invite Cyrus,” she added, waggling her brows.

“You’re being weird,” TJ groaned, pulling out his phone to text him, “but yeah, I’m in. I didn’t have breakfast so I could use something,”

[Me: hey do you wanna go to the spoon w/ buffy and marty?]

The text back was almost immediate.

[Underdog <3: i’m actually omw there rn! I’ll meet up with u guys]

“He’s already heading there,” TJ informed them, following behind them. Marty had taken Buffy’s hand and was now swinging it. If he strained, he could just make out Buffy’s blush when she turned towards her boyfriend. He sighed, popping in his headphones and turning on his music loud enough to block out everything else that was happening. TJ seemed to be doing a lot of that lately, trying to block out everything and create an instrumental barrier for himself. His mom had told him that it ‘wasn’t healthy for someone to block things out with music’. She acted as though he was addicted to it like a drug, which, in retrospect, he probably was. And it wasn’t hurting anyone, unless you counted that one time that he flailed his arms so hard he’d hit Amber.

There was this persistent sound though, that didn’t mesh with his music. Glancing up he say Buffy saying something or rather mouthing something, since he couldn’t really make out what she was saying.

“Huh?” he said, pulling out one earbud.

“I said Cyrus is waiting inside,” she pointed inside to a table where Cyrus was sitting and chatting with one of the waiters.

TJ paused his music, taking out both of his earbuds and putting them in his pocket. “Oh, right,” he murmured, carding his fingers through his hair. Marty held the door for him, briefly taking note of TJ’s expression. He met his gaze for a split second, but looked away immediately.

“Okay, no you did not kick my a-”

“-I so did! You’re just denying it beca-”

“-that’s a lie and you know it!”

That’s how things went for a while. Buffy and Marty tried to catch Cyrus up with what happened on the court, but they kept getting bogged down in details, so the story hardly progressed. Cyrus looked as though someone was telling him directions in a foreign language. His face portrayed that yes, he was listening, but no, he had no idea what was happening.

Luckily, the waiter came back during one of their arguments and brought them their food; two large orders of baby taters, two vanilla milkshakes, one strawberry, and one chocolate.

“I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t get at least half of that,” he admitted, dipping a tater into the chocolate shake, “but I swear I was paying attention and there was indeed some basketball terminology in there,”

Buffy shook her head, taking a long sip of her strawberry milkshake. “In short, I kicked his ass,”

“Language,” he muttered, playing with the straw mindlessly.

Buffy snorted, effectively spilling some of her shake on her. “I’ll get some extra napkins,” Marty said, scooting out of the booth and going to find some napkins.

“I’m gonna try and clean up in the bathroom,” Buffy grumbled, “on one of my favorite shirts too,” she whined, excusing herself to go to the bathroom

Cyrus drummed his fingers on the table, taking a small sip of his shake. “So, how was the rest of your yesterday after I left?” he asked, putting his hands in his lap.

TJ shrugged, taking a sip of his vanilla shake as if to clear his throat. “It was alright. After we left the park, Amber and I went into the basement and built, like, this insanely cool castle from a Lego set we had years ago, just to kind of clear her head with the whole,” he lowered his voice, almost scouting the establishment, “breakup. And I didn’t fall asleep till late, like really late, so I was late to go and shoot hoops with Marty and Buffy because I forgot my journal at home and my mom-” he paused, popping a tater in his mouth to buy himself time to find the right words.

“. . .my mom gave it to me, and then I had to run to the courts, but I’d already missed Marty and Buffy playing and then they asked me if I wanted to go to the Spoon for lunch because I didn’t have breakfast and then they asked me if I wanted to invite you and-”

He stopped for a breath, but once he met Cyrus’ eyes, it was like a computer virus had overridden his brain. All he could think about was how beautiful Cyrus was from this distance, and how much more beautiful he probably was when he was a little closer. And yeah, he knew he was staring, but Cyrus didn’t break the gaze, so neither did TJ.

And by some universal, and probably magical, force TJ could feel himself moving forward, ever so slightly. For a split second, his gaze flicked to Cyrus’ lips before quickly returning to his eyes. Gosh, he could stare at them forever, and in that moment, it felt like they were in a little bubble. It almost looked as if Cyrus was getting a little closer too, although that could have been TJ’s imagination. He didn’t flinch, he just held the gaze, as if he was waiting for something to happen, waiting for someone to initiate something.

“My shirt’s all wet, I need napkins, Marty!” Buffy’s voice shattered whatever moment was building between the two of them. They immediately jumped back, hearts beating like a rabbit’s, and sat as far away as possible on the booth seat. It was as though they’d been touched by fire, their bodies burned. TJ could hear his blood thump in his ears, and Cyrus felt as though he’d just been jump scared.

“For my lady,” Marty presented the napkins like a knight, bowing down slightly, “to help with. . .that,”

Buffy smirked, giving him a quick peck on the cheek and graciously accepting the napkins. “Why thank you,” she chuckled, sliding into the booth with Marty and looking across at the other boys.

“Something’s off,” Marty mouthed to her, looking between TJ and Cyrus, then back at Buffy, “we’ll I’m hungry,” he blurted out, grabbing a few tater tots and munching on them.

“Oh yeah, me too,” Buffy quickly jumped in taking a loud sip of her milkshake. Cyrus barely picked at the taters, rolling one around in his hand instead. TJ moved his straw up and down in his glass, his gaze occasionally flitting to the empty basket of baby taters. Marty and Buffy tried to make banter, but only one word answers from both boys.

“I think. . .I’m gonna go shoot some hoops,” Marty decided, dropping a few crumpled bills on the table, “TJ, you wanna come with?”

He nodded silently, pulling out a few dollar bills and setting them on the table. “See you guys later,” he said, giving Buffy a nod before heading out the door. Once he was out of earshot, Buffy leaned her body against the table.

“What was that?” she hissed, looking at Cyrus with wide eyes.

Cyrus shrugged nonchalantly, breaking a tater in half. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he lied, “nothing’s going on between me and TJ,”

Buffy opened her mouth to say something, but clamped it down, breaking into a mischievous grin. “I didn’t say that there was anything going on between you and TJ. You did,”

Cyrus felt his face go hot, and opted for taking a few sips of his milkshake. “Whatever, you were implying it and you know it,” he grumbled, crossing his arms.

“Aw, you’re so cute when you’re smitten,” she teased, sipping her shake.

Cyrus nearly choked on his drink, coughing and sputtering to try and regain his composure. “I’m not ‘smitten’,” he choked out, tears budding from the corners of his eyes from hacking up his lungs.

“Hm, fine,” she sighed, dipping a tater in her milkshake, but dropping it accidentally, “crap,” she groaned.

“That’s what you get for being nosy,” Cyrus scolded playfully, sticking his tongue out in retaliation.

Buffy rolled her eyes, grabbing another tater. “But come don’t you think that he, you know,” she waved her hands a little, grabbing a second tater tot, “likes you?”

Cyrus snorted, shaking his head and leaning his arms back against the booth. “You’re delusional, Buff,” he chided, “hate to break it to you, but TJ’s as straight as Iris’ hair,”

Buffy pursed her lips, drumming her fingers on the table. “More like as straight as my hair,” she muttered, popping both taters in her mouth.

Tired of the topic, Cyrus pulled out his journal and started writing for his journalism class. It was at least some sort of distraction.

6/12

Today I spent part of my morning working on my homework for the summer. Towards the middle of the afternoon, TJ and I, along with Buffy and Marty, went to the Spoon for lunch. We--

Buffy craned her neck to try and read what he was writing, but Cyrus immediately shut his journal, putting it under his leg. “I saw TJ,” she said in a sing-song manner, raising her brows.

“We are literally partners for this assignment,” he deadpanned, finishing off his milkshake, and pulling out enough money to pay for both their meals, “I got it, but you gotta stop bugging me about T-”

“Hold that thought,” she muttered, her phone buzzing in her pocket, “Marty’s taking me to a movie for a date tonight,” she cheered, smiling down at her phone and firing back a text, “I swear I won’t bug you about him for,” she paused, “the rest of the week,” she decided, slipping out of the booth and towards the door, “bye Cy!”

Cyrus gave her a salute as a goodbye, and once she was gone, he pulled out his journal again to finish writing his entry.

We had the usual, baby taters and milkshakes. Buffy spilled some of hers so Marty went to get her extra napkins while she tried to wash up in the bathroom. So it was just me and TJ for a little while and

He stopped, carding his hand through his hair. What was he supposed to write? That they stared at each other for a little while and then stopped?

and then Marty and Buffy came back. We all ate, and then TJ and Marty left to play basketball, so it was just me and Buffy for bit. We talked about

Another groan, another hand rubbing his eyes.

about our friends for a little bit. Then she got a text from Marty that they were going to go to the movies on a date. Today was pretty uneventful, but I’m sure more will happen in the coming days.

He shut his journal, still thinking back to that moment where he and TJ were just staring. Not like when you zoned out in class and you were fixated on one point, but truly staring, like the kind in the cheesy movies. It was like. . .they were both waiting for something to happen, or at least Cyrus was. But neither of them moved; they were both cemented in their place, and then Buffy came and whatever was happening was broken.

“And there’s probably a word for that,” he mumbled to himself, pulling his phone out and typing out his search entry.

what do you call it when two people kinda look at each other and want something to happen but neither of them does anything

It took him three seconds to find the word, and approximately three minutes to figure out how to pronounce it, but when he did, he scrawled it in the back of his journal.

mamihlapinatapai: a look shared by two people, each wishing that that other would initiate something that they both desire but which neither wants to begin

Yup, there it was, A perfect description of that perfectly awkward moment between them. The waiter came by to collect the money and take away the empty glasses. Cyrus thanked him and headed out, walking down the street back towards his home. He flicked back to the end of his journal, reading through his little list of words. TJ would probably think it was the lamest thing in the world, and that was precisely why he, along with the rest of his friends, was not going to find out about them.

“So,” Marty began, “you and Cyrus?”

TJ nearly tripped over his sneakers as he tried to make a shot, but missed completely and airballed, thanks to Marty. “Thanks a lot,” he grumbled, inhaling deeply and exhaling while Marty fetched the ball and threw is back to him.

TJ took another shot, having it bounce off the backboard and into the hoop. “What about me and Cyrus?”

Marty took the ball for a layup, and then threw it back to TJ. “You guys are, you know. . .” he hand waved, as if waiting for TJ to finish his sentence.

“Dating? You think we’re dating?” he asked incredulously, taking another shot, but missing.

“I mean, I guess yeah,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck, “I thought it was pretty obvious,”

TJ scoffed, passing the ball to Marty. “In my dreams,”

Marty raised his brows, a sly smile splitting his face. “Aha! So you do like him,” he countered, dribbling the ball absentmindedly.

TJ rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Yes, Marty, I do like him. I really think you’re catching on here,” he sassed, grabbing the ball from him and shooting, making it with the help of the backboard.

“So why not ask him out?” Marty suggested simply, dribbling the ball back to TJ, “what’s stopping you?”

TJ pretended to think it over for a minute, become coming to an artificial eureka moment. “Oh, well when you put it like that,” he mused sarcastically, “I would only be ruining my friendship with someone who’s really important to me,”

Marty lightly punched his arm, making goo-goo eyes. “Aw, TJ Kippen is so smitten for Cyrus,” he cooed, earning a glare from the captain.

“Say one word about it and you’re dead,” he threatened, but his face was anything but unhappy, “either way, it’s not important. I like him, but he just wants to be friends, and I’m totally cool living with that constant pain,”

Marty frowned, holding the ball between his torso and his arm. “How do you know he just wants to be friends?” TJ opened his mouth to reply, but Marty beat him to it. “You don’t,”

TJ sighed, taking the ball from him and spinning it in his hands. “I just feel. . .different when I’m with him,”

“Good different or bad different?”

“. . .both, I guess,” he decided, bouncing the ball a few times, “I don’t know, man, feelings just suck,”

Marty nodded, swiping the ball away from him and shooting it, making it through the hoop. “I win!” he exclaimed, pumping his fist in the air.

“We were just shooting hoops! There aren’t winners and losers,” TJ practically whined, crossing his arms and pouting like a child.

“There are always winners and losers,” Marty insisted, running over to the bench and texting, “I’m going to see a movie with Buffy to celebrate, but I’ll catch you around,” he said, giving him a fist bump and jogging down the sidewalk.

TJ picked up the ball spinning it around in his hands for a moment. He dribbled it out to the three-point line, squinting. The sun was starting to set, so its oranges and yellows were nearly blinding TJ. He wanted to stay and shoot hoops for a little while more, but all he could think about was that moment with him and Cyrus. Him and Cyrus, staring at each other, neither one of them making a move. They almost. . .

“No,” TJ muttered to himself. He and Cyrus did not almost kiss. Any movement that had happened was all in his imagination; there was no way that Cyrus could even want to kiss him. He let out a frustrated breath; this was going to be one hell of a journal entry when he got to writing it.

So there he stood in front of the free throw line, the remainder of the sunlight pouring through the trees that he always seemed to find peaceful. He took a shot, missing and hitting the top of the backboard. Groaning, he grabbed the ball and tried again, hitting the rim this time and having it fall to the ground, without going through the hoop.

“Shit,” he sneered, tossing the ball against the fence as hard as he could, his breathing a bit heavier than before. Even though he really didn’t want to admit it to himself, he wasn’t making any of his shots because all he could think about was Cyrus. Cyrus, whose brown eyes were so warm and inviting that TJ could stare at them forever and never get bored. Cyrus, whose hands probably fit his like a glove, even if they were occasionally dry during the winter. Cyrus, who was quite possibly the kindest person he’d ever met. Cyrus, who was intelligent. Cyrus. Cyrus. Cyrus. It’s all that his mind could seem to chant.

He found himself in front of the free throw line again, bouncing the ball a few times on the ground. “Give me a sign,” he said, more to himself than the universe, “tell me things are gonna be okay,”

Bracing himself, he took a shot, and the ball rolled around the rim once. Twice. Three times. It teetered for a moment, and TJ knew it wasn’t going to go through. He quickly turned around not willing himself to see himself miss again. He started walking home, hearing the ball bounce a few times on his way out.

If only he hadn’t turned around for a few more seconds, he would have seen it fall through the hoop.

“So, how was hoops with TJ?” Buffy asked as they waited in line for popcorn, “did he kick your ass?”

Marty smirked, putting his hands on his hips with pride. “Actually, I beat him,” he boasted, dusting off his shoulders.

“Color me impressed,” she joked, moving up a few steps, “you guys were there a while. Did you talk about-”

“-him and Cyrus?” they finished together.

“Yeah,” Marty admitted, scratching the back of his neck, “I mean, I don’t think I’m in the position to tell you what he said, but yeah, Cyrus,”

Buffy nodded, picking at the remnants of her nail polish. “Cyrus and I talked about him too,” she added, “not sure if I can say anything either, but I think we probably know things that they don’t,”

Marty groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Don’t even get me started. I told TJ that I thought he and Cyrus were dating,”

Buffy shoved him slightly, causing him to bump into the lady in front of him. “You’re kidding,” she wheezed, wiping a tear from her eye, “you didn’t,”

“I did,” he admitted sheepishly, making his way to the front of the line, “I’m such an idiot,”

“I know, and that’s why you’re paying for the snacks,” she said though laughter, almost unable to compose herself.

“If you laugh through this movie, so help me,” Marty mumbled, paying for the popcorn and water bottles.

“Dating,” Buffy choked out, stumbling towards the theatre with awkward steps.

“Dating,” Marty mocked, the two of them taking their seats in the cinema. And yes, Buffy laughed throughout almost the entire movie.

Tag List: @shortstackofpeaches || @seanna313 || @geekingbeautytx || @heavenlybyers || @ginnychrises|| @wlwandimack || @giocondasstuff || @lemonboytyrus || @adorejrizzle || @swingsetboys || @ifellintotyrushell || @idk-dude-17 || @rbf-lesbian || @marianara-sauce || @kaptainjinxz || @alex-poster-pizz || @quietmarvel || @blueberry-my-hero-macadamia || @broadwayitbitch || @tjsmuffin || @tjthekippen || @idpleasesir || @hi-hello-hey-there || @bingewatchingenthusiast|| @booklove-2 || @illbeyourreasonwhy || @birdiesandflowers || @whistlepunk || @phinallyjackie || @thedampjofangirl || @tyrus4eva || @tj-is-a-lemony-boy || @tj-goodman-bittersweet-boy || @dis-app-oin-tme-nt || @nessarinthegay || @breadisticks || @typewriter-riz || @gobletofash || @bluemuffinboy || @sofuuh || @cheesystars || @tjmuffin || @multifandom-bxitch || @allylovessadie || @hithatsmyname || @tyrusinarush ||

#andi mack #tyrus #tyrus fic #wonah #ambi #tj kippen #muffy #andiman #pandi mack #jonah beck #walker brodsky #cyrus goodman #marty from the party #buffy driscoll #amber kippen #cyrus' dictionary #my fics

[thenovelartist]

11/11/11 challenge

So, I got tagged to do this... twice. I answered all their questions, and call me a party pooper, but I’m not going to continue the game by coming up with 11 questions of my own and tagging 11 people ;)

@lovelyliliana101

1. Where do you get your ideas?

           Depends. Usually, I watch movies, TV shows, read books (or fanfictions) and think either “I like this plot and want to spin-off it” or “this sucks but I like this one thing about it so I’m going to fix it.” Other times, I’ll see a piece of fan art that sparks a story. Occasionally, Pinterest Prompts or song lyrics spark something, but it’s not as common.

2. What is your writing process like, and What do you love most about it?

           I come up with an idea, mull it over to the point I think I have an idea of how I want the story to go, then I write it. No plotting. No writing out character sheets or planning boards or anything complicated. I love that it’s simple and I can basically get started immediately.

3. How many hours a day do you write?

           Lately, it has been 0 hours because health stuff is whooping my butt. But I like to average 1-2 hours a day. Preferably closer to 2.

4. Do you try more to be original or to deliver to readers what they want?

           I usually write whatever I want to read, but I’ve heard readers comments and liked them and changed my stories because of that.

5. What made you want to become a writer?

           … I like writing. *shrug*

6.  What is the toughest criticism given to you as an author, and What has been the best compliment?

           *Blows out air, cheeks puffed out* Um… I… don’t know. I do tend to start observing certain things in my work if pointed out, such as if I see a post that mentions “Don’t let your characters have the same voice” or a comment saying my sentences are too similar in structure, I will become hyper-sensitive to that in my writing. I don’t think I’ve had any “harsh” criticism that was actually criticism and not people just being jerks.

Best compliment… I’ve one along the lines of “Your stuff is on par or better than published novels,” which was AWESOME and the best one I can think of right now. 😊

7. Does writing energize or exhaust you?

           If I’m feeling good, it is a neutral activity: nothing gained, nothing lost.

           If I’m tired (like as of late) it’s exhausting.

8. What’s your goal of certain # of words a week or when inspiration strikes?

           I don’t usually have a word goal. Normally, it’s “I have a week to finish this so I better get this story/chapter done but I’ll procrastinate as much as I can before I do”.

9. What advice do you have for writers?

           I think there’s a lot of contradictory advice out there for writers. Screw most of it and just find what works best for you. There are certain rules you need to abide by (grammar rules, for example) but for the most part, write what you want to read and write however you want to write it. After enough time, you’ll learn what works and what doesn’t. There will be pieces of advice that cause you to focus on parts of your writing and get you thinking if something needs to change, but don’t take all advice as law.

10. How do you work past writer’s block?

           Usually, I need to walk away at this point and get back to it later. Very rarely can I power through.

           Writer’s block is caused by one of two things. The first being my mental capacity to sit and write. This is solved by walking away and returning later. However, if it caused by frustration with the storyline, I backtrack. This means going back one/two/five pages and finding a good launch point to rewrite everything in a way that leads me more toward where I’m trying to go with the end. But the worst block is caused by a plot point I have already published and is basically law yet is causing me trouble. This means I have some serious fudging to do and it’s hard and usually sucks and can take days to pass, even if it only results in a single page.

11. If you could tell your younger writing self anything, what would it be?

Hmm… go to the doctor now because you’ll be sick at my age and writing with health issues ranges from “serious suckage” to “downright near impossible.”

 @lnc2

1. Is there a work of fan fiction you wish you wrote?  Why?

           I was going to answer no, but there’s two. One called “Lore of the Land” and the reason I wish I wrote it is because it’s been abandoned for nearly two years now and I would have finished it.

There’s another I can’t remember the name of, but I was obsessively following this story and in a single chapter, the author completely and totally RUINED it, and I want to take it out of their hands and beat them over the head for being OOC in an otherwise fantastically written story.

2. Do you have a go-to writing playlist?  What songs are on it?

           I used to (I don’t often write to music any more), and it was my Pandora “Philip Westly” station filled with, well, Philip Westly, Ryan Stewart, Jennifer Thomas, Michele McLaughlin, Brain Crain, Helen Jane Long, and a bunch of other “New Age Classical” music. (I can’t write with words going on or else I start writing the lyrics)

3. Do you have any rituals you do before writing?

           No. I don’t.

4. Describe your writing space.

           Left side of the blue couch in my living room. 50-50 split between leg rest up and down. Little wooden side table where my computer is kept. There is a plushy Golden Retriever named Jack that sits on the top edge of the couch and looks over my shoulder as I’m writing. Occasionally, my cat will decide to hang out with me, meaning he jumps up and tries to lay on my keyboard until I kick him off and tell him no and he relents but sulks next to me.  

5. Where do you get your inspiration?

           I answered above 😉

6. Do you outline or figure out your stories as you go?

           I fly by the seat of my pants. As long as I know where I want to end up and have a rough idea how to get there, I’m golden.

7. What was the first story you ever wrote?

           Um… Story landmarks time.

           First story I wrote was a series of one-page stories about a cat, dog, and horse that were spies and fought off the evil Al. E. Gator and his henchman, Pork. E. Pig. My sixth-grade teacher found these amazing.

           Some years later, I started a novel that I didn’t finish until after I posted my first fanfiction, which would be one called “Swimming Lesson” and is on deviantart for TMNT; you can find it if you so dare. It is amazing how far I’ve come.

           Then I finished Escaping the Tyrant and published it, which as been a pride of mine ever since. 😊

8. Do you have a go-to fix when you’re stuck on a story?

           One: put my earbuds in and find a song I can listen to on repeat for ten-twenty minutes as I pace a rut into the floor.

           Two: two browsers open, Youtube on the left side playing something while I browse pinterest/tumblr/something else on the right.

9. Do you use betas?  Why or why not?

           I don’t usually because (and I don’t mean to sound cocky) but I’m pretty good at writing and self-editing most of the time. The other reason is because half of my stuff isn’t finished until a day before posting and betas need time to work and I’m terrible at giving them enough time to do so.

10. How long does it usually take you to write a story from start to finish?

           A one-shot usually takes a week. A multi chapter story is a week per chapter plus an extra week or two because I fell behind/needed a break.

11. Why writing?

           I like stories, and sadly, with increasing frequency, people can’t tell good ones, meaning I have to fix it. And I don’t care how sassy that is. It’s true.

#tumblr games #I'm a party-pooper #I know #I don't care XD

[galactic-pirates]

WIP Wednesday

OMG I nearly forgot again!

I super want to do this because I’m hoping I can pump myself up, you know get pumped! Because I want to do all the things but just bleugh heh, the old fake it until you make it right? :)

So let’s do this thing!!!!

Ok friends, what shall I talk about this week? I mean it’s super tempting to blather on about everything that I really really hope is upcoming but hey let’s not split the focus too much, let’s bring it down.

PAINTING LAYERS OF LOVE

Ok there you go, that’s my thing, that’s what I’m going to try and get pumped about this week, whoop whoop!

Guys, guys, guys, I can’t say it’s been 84 years because it’s been 2 years or longer, quite frankly I have lost track at this point but but there has been movement. End of October I planned out probably around the next 5 chapters I think I reckoned. Then beginning of THIS month I wrote the first half of the next chapter.

Yup that’s right, there is half a chapter after 2 years *rolls eyes at self*

No, no, no negativity self, glass half full and all that, half a chapter is better than no chapter. So what’s upcoming? Let’s try and get excited! But without spoilers! Yeah this is hard.

Ok so we left things with a looming trip to an art studio. Actually considering it’s been so long should I do more of a recap? Hmm ok. The story - Neal made a deal with Gold that if his dad took a 3 month sabbatical off work, then he would go back to college and finish his degree and let his dad pay for it. So Gold moves into the cottage next door to Belle in the picturesque countryside of an indeterminate location (there are lavender fields and that’s kinda it, pick your country of choice *cough*).

Belle was in a car accident a couple of years ago, she lost her mother and her eyesight. Her dad was driving and couldn’t take the guilt and she hasn’t seen him since shortly afterwards as he can’t face her. She vacationed in the cottage as a kid and moved in and basically never left. She spends her days painting and reading, in a nice little bubble where nothing upsets the controlled environment she has created for herself - but then Gold arrives.

Gold’s arrival makes Belle confront issues she had been avoiding, and she in turn makes Gold take the sabbatical more seriously. He had just been doing it to pacify Neal but he starts to realize that maybe Neal had a point. Anyway change is hard, there are arguments and meltdowns and lots of tears and tea. Both Belle and Gold decide that they want to try to face what scares them and personal growth. Hence Belle’s decision to take Gold up on his offer to go to this art studio, which is where we left things in Chapter 10.

As for what happens next? Shall I try and do an episode tagline thingy because #NoSpoilers. Erm ok - next time on Painting Layers of Love Belle’s world threatens to shrink even further, Gold calls Doctor Hopper and makes a mistake which will echo out for the next few chapters probably (I have a sort of arc planned).

So yeah this is still a thing. Coming ‘soon’ TM, to a screen near you :)

#Sam talks writing #painting layers of love #long post #WIP Wednesday #making it a thing - hopefully

[notsugarandspice]

get you out my mind

I....wrote it this morning. I couldn’t get it out of my head. so this is a thing that’s happening now. idk I love it so much just...read it if ya want. it’s gonna be a lil’ 3 chapter self-indulgent thing ♡

Not Rated, Meet-Cute, Skater! Eddie, Richie is in a private school & is #miserable, pretty Cali life, Bill is questioning things, Skater! Bill

Read it on AO3.

                                                    Chapter 1

Richie has always been one to get easily fascinated, and there were plenty of things around him to draw interest from, but that’s not what he wants right now. In fact, he’s trying to avoid any and all compelling things, trying not to fall into that daydreamy headspace. He came here to be alone, do his work and that’s about it.

He’s breathing the fresh air coming from the ocean, fascinated with how the dim sunlight glistens on the waves. There are plenty of surfers around, barefoot with nothing but swim trunks on, giggly and tan. And then there’s….Richie. Pale, freckly, still dressed in his uniform: blue polo and khakis, wishing he had a pack of cigarettes with him. Wishing he could actually smoke here.

Richie looks over to the side where people are skating on manmade hills, falling, giggling, happy. Richie doesn’t really have a reason to be upset or depressed over anything, but like most things, he doesn’t have a good excuse. That’s just the state he’s in.

The school has been difficult, exams have been kicking his ass, and he still doesn’t want to go to college even though he’s already been accepted to UCLA preemptively. But he still has a year of torture to endure. He’s been trying to be a good son, he’s been trying to make his parents proud. He just hopes it pays off.

There’s a particularly fascinating red-haired guy to Richie’s right side, one who seems to fall off too frequently for his own good. He laughs it off instantly, and he looks so young it’s painful because Richie can tell he’s definitely a high schooler and Richie doesn’t feel like one. He already feels shaped to be an adult, what with all the private school pressure and additional tutoring, endless soccer practice that recently ended, and that little voice in his head that always reminds him that he’s the only kid and he has an example of two hard-working parents who give him everything he wants. So there’s that.

The red-haired guy falls again after attempting some sort of a trick on the bend and starts whooping someone from the ground, someone who’s running from the parking lot. Richie should really be reading Lord of the Flies but his eyes fall on that boy who gets on the black board mid-run, skating down the slope smoothly, hangs on the top of the tall hill for several agonizing seconds and swoops back down with more grace that should be possible in this sort of thing, his lower body seemingly disconnected from the rest. Richie keeps watching the way his overgrown sandy hair flops from the wind and the corner of his mouth lifts when he notices knee socks with little red pills on them.

Richie looks away because he doesn’t want to stare - he could never skate, no matter how much he wanted - too tall and uncoordinated, and honestly no one to skate with even if he didn’t care about falling. His best friend Stan preferred to stay indoors and was disgusted by any mention of physical activity and Richie tried pressing, was even really good at it, but that was a thing about Stanley - he could never budge.

Richie turns to face the beach again, a little uncomfortable on the weird bench-like rock he’s been sitting on but instead of re-reading the same damn sentence he simply looks forward, reveling in the sound of laughter, crashing waves and the shifting of the sand. He zones out for a solid minute until a board comes smashing into his bench, making him jump a little. It’s the red-headed guy. Of course, it is.

He runs up to Richie with an ecstatic grin on his face, and Richie wants to take it and plant it on himself. He wants a smile that splits his face too. “Suh-suh-sorry, man.”

“All good here.” Richie wants to say something else, maybe make small talk which he’s usually good at but for some inexplicable reason he can’t get anything out of himself, and he bends down to look at the book again.

Richie miraculously reads a full page before he sees someone sprint in front of him, trying to catch up with their board. He realizes with an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach that it’s the knee socks kid - and he now clearly sees the red t-shirt, blue jean shorts, and a million dollar smile. Their eyes connect, and Richie’s heart speeds up faster than when he was on that terrifying Six Flags rollercoaster. It’s kind of nauseating, and he feels oddly nervous.

The boy huffs a laugh, cocking his hip to let the board sit there. “Sorry ‘bout that. My friend and I keep bugging you.”

“Like I told your friend - all good here. Skateparks aren’t exactly crowd-less.” Richie grins convincingly even though he’s starting to sweat for the first time since he sat down under the sun.

The guy smiles back, and his teeth are a stark contrast to the caramel tan. “What are you reading?”

“Um,” the name of the book flies right out of Richie’s head, along with his ability to coherently speak, apparently, “Lord of the Flies.”

The boy comes closer and puts the board down, balancing on it as he talks. “School? I think I read that Junior year or something.”

“You’ve been out of school for a while?” He doesn’t look like he even graduated and Richie doesn’t want to be rude, so he forces himself to stop talking before he inevitably offends the guy.

But he just smiles and squats on the board, somehow perfectly balanced, confidence unwavering. “Babyface, I know. Still in school though. Senior.” The boy looks over to the side and chuckles when his friend falls on his ass again, and Richie can’t help but smile when a small dimple appears under the boy’s pink cheek. “What about you?”

“You ask a lot of questions,” says Richie without thinking and he hopes his voice reflected the joking nature of it.

“I mean, you’re wearing a school uniform. Blue means…Junior year, yeah? Red is Seniors.”

“You don’t go to my school.”

The boy straightens again, skating around Richie’s bench. “Definitely not. One of my friends does.” He suddenly skates away, down the slope and quickly makes it all the way to the other side where he’s nothing but a red blob. Richie squints in his glasses but can’t make out the expression on the guy’s face.

He drops his head back down to the book with an uneasy feeling, hoping he didn’t do something to push the guy away. He strangely wants to talk to him more, and Richie is usually good at talking, joking, all that, but he’s kind of speechless around this particular person. It makes him nervous, and he simultaneously wants to run away and bravely grab someone’s board to make it to the other side.

Richie sits for five more minutes, skimming through a couple of pages and decides he can’t stay still anymore. He lies down on his back, putting his head on the half-empty backpack and manages to go through a whole chapter before the red-headed guy’s in front of him again, this time without a valid reason to be. He just stands there for a while on top of the board like the other guy did earlier and looks at the beach. Richie puts the book down on his tummy and cocks an eyebrow, awaiting a response.

“D-duh-do you skate?” asks the guy, his cheeks tinted pink, green eyes jumping everywhere.

Richie bends his arm to elevate his head a little as too many thoughts race around his head, starting with why is he talking to me? and ends somewhere around Richie’s observation on how much easier it is to talk to this dude. His heart isn’t jumping out of his chest, and he might be able to make this guy laugh which is all Richie lives for at the end of the day.

“Nah, too tall and gangly. Hence, ridiculously unbalanced. String bean. Whatever.” His shoulders go up to his ears, and the boy laughs. Richie smiles and feels the desire to keep this shit up like a lifeline.

“Wuh-wuh-what are you d-doing at a skate park, then?” The boy looks behind him and furrows his brows before turning to Richie again.

“I don’t know. I guess I thought no-one would bother me here.” Richie winks and the guy blushes more now, smiling bashfully.

He opens his mouth to respond, but they suddenly hear the approaching sound of a skateboard and look in the direction of the pit. Richie sees the smaller guy approaching, his hair caught in the wind, lip stuck under the top row of teeth. He instantly sits back up, suddenly too breathless to feel so relaxed. The guy smiles when their eyes connect and skates right into a sitting position on the bench, leaning on Richie heavily from the speed at which he landed on his ass. Richie’s hand somehow lands on the boy’s slightly sweaty lower back, and he yanks it away, his finger tingly, stomach churning.

The boy giggles and Richie’s heart stings slightly. Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with me? “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I didn’t calculate this landing properly.”

“It’s okay. It was cute,” says Richie without thinking, my stupid motormouth, fucking shit, and he can feel his cheeks heat up feverishly and his throat feels tight. He’s waiting for something like dude, what? but when he finally turns to look at the boy he’s smiling at him small and bashful, sitting on his hands, rocking back and forth. Adorable is the only word bouncing around Richie’s head.

“We should p-puh-probably get out of your h-hair,” says the green-eyed boy with an awkward smile, all ready to go with a board under his armpit.

His friend ignores the offer to leave and instead extends a hand to Richie, eyes sparkly with that light grey that seems to look straight into your soul. “I’m Eddie. This is Bill,” he bends his head in the direction of his friend without breaking eye contact with Richie.

“Richie.” He shakes the boy’s hand, and it’s a lot softer than he’s used to and it makes him look down, noticing how his thumb alone bends around all of Eddie’s knuckles, covering them completely. Richie can’t help but smile at the image, unsure of why it makes him feel all that.

“Like Richie Rich?”

Richie laughs earnestly dropping the hand, the irony of it all not lost on him. “Some ways more than others.”

“Right. Private school, big house, you probably do fencing or some shit.”

“Tried fencing and I was terrible at it. Like I told Bill here - I have the coordination of a newborn giraffe.”

Eddie searches Richie’s face for several agonizing seconds with a big smile on his face, his freckles hiding in the folds of the slightly crumpled nose. “Newborn giraffes are kind of cute.”

“Okay-“ mutters Bill and quickly skates away, miraculously making it the whole way to the pit without face-planting.

Eddie snickers into his fist and turns back to Richie, seemingly scooting closer, but that could just be the trick of the eyes. Richie’s mouth is apparently faster than his brain again. Or his brain is too fast. Doesn’t it answer for everything he says? “You come here often?”

The boy giggles and blushes slightly, cocking an eyebrow that leaves Richie’s heart stuttering. “Are you hitting on me with the most typical pickup line ever?”

Richie feels his heart drop on the ground and roll all the way to the ocean and down, down, down. “Oh, no, I- I mean- fuck,” he huffs a laugh quickly rubbing his steaming face, “do you actually hang out here often?”

Eddie keeps smiling sweetly, looking at Richie with unabashed interest. He seems to think the question over from a different perspective and looks towards the water when he answers. Richie notices the smooth bend of his nose and how pretty his skin looks under the sunset light. Richie feels like he ran the field three times back and forth, he’s so breathless.

“Yeah, I mean, this is the only place I like to hang out besides home. I don’t really go out.” There’s something oddly vulnerable in that admission even though Richie doesn’t necessarily think it’s such an odd thing to say.

“Me neither. If you don’t count all the times pops drags me to be his caddie to a golf club in Malibu. Love getting undressing stares from old white men.”

Eddie laughs and looks at Richie pitifully, scrunching up his face in a ridiculously cute way. “Ew. Don’t go there.”

“I try not to! I literally ran out of excuses at this point. Whatevs,” he says throwing an arm forward, laughing slightly. Talking to Eddie feels…nice. Nicer than he wants to think about.

“EDDIE!” they hear Bill scream with his hands around his mouth, waving for Eddie to make it to the other side, pointing at someone standing next to him.

“Oh!” exclaims Eddie, gesturing Bill a thumbs up. He bends down to see where his board is and they both look over to the left where it’s propped halfway on the grass. “I gotta go. My friend just got here.” Eddie jogs towards the board, neatly jumping on the side that was on the sidewalk, making the board do a 360 to get it on the ground again.

Richie feels ridiculously impressed even though skating never fascinated him enough to be that interested in it. He might be very interested now.

Eddie runs a hand through his hair as he rolls to balance in front of Richie and he notices a thin beady bracelet, many colors on it. Eddie smiles when their eyes connect, and Richie has the biggest desire to grab the boy’s hand and take him to the little café across the street, where they make the best strawberry cappuccinos and small chocolate croissants and what the actual FUCK, Rich, you want a date or something? Richie huffs an awkward laugh at his own thoughts, nervous that the boy would hear him, knowing well enough, though, that it’s not possible and he really needs to be less self-conscious.

“Don’t have too much fun without me, Eds,” says Richie, his mouth apparently desperate to make a lasting impression. His hands are slightly shaky where he’s wringing his fingers between the two of them.

Eddie groans and leans back a little in a dramatic manner that Richie thinks he’d imitate if he was less nervous to be around the guy. “No nicknames, for the love of God.”

“It’s not like you’re ever gonna hear it again.” Richie’s heart stings instantly when he says it, and he’s terrified there might be truth in that statement.

Eddie looks at him a little bug-eyed, a smile falling from his lips. “You’re not planning on coming here again?”

Richie considers it, looking past Eddie on the water, hearing the loud laughter, the sound of boards on the smooth surface, the wind rustling palm trees above him and then at Eddie’s face, framed by the pink and orange glow of the sunset behind them. He thinks he couldn’t stay away from this place even if he tried. “Dunno. Don’t live that close.” Right. I’ll probably die if I don’t see your face again.

“Okay. Well…I hope to see you soon.” Eddie’s voice is so small when he says that and his eyes are almost pleading. Richie doesn’t know why this kid would ever want to hang out with him, but he can’t replace the responsive feeling in his chest and all the hurricanes happening in his gut.

“Me too, Eds. See ya.” Eddie rolls his eyes and runs onto his board, sticking his tongue out and screams “Bye, Richie!” skating down the slope, towards his friends.

Richie follows him with his eyes languidly, wanting to run down the slope, tumbling head first into the guy’s arms. Whatever. He smiles at the distant image of Eddie’s red shirt and picks up his book to put it inside the backpack. He waits several seconds to see the Sun finally drown itself in the water and goes up to walk to the parking lot, backpack on one shoulder. He looks over at the pit one last time, hoping to catch Eddie’s eye but he’s skating back and forth, swift and skillful, and Richie grins sheepishly, unwilling to let the image exit his mind.

He texts Stanley on the red light, asking him to come over. He has to figure out an excuse to drag Stan with him next time. Not that it’s too weird to hang out at the beach for no apparent reason, drawn to a cute tan guy on a skateboard. Shit.

Perma Tag: @studpuffin @j0ys @d-nbroughs @tinyarmedtrex @constantreaderfool @its-stranger-than-you-think @aizeninlefox  (I’m removing some people who don’t interact - I’m not here to force my work on anyone, so no hard feelings. Let me know if you want to be removed/added to a perma list or a specific fic ♡)

#reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #my writing #bill denbrough

[kinetic-elaboration]

March 15: Writing Priorities

Okay, the four day weekend begins! Let’s hope I don’t blow this on sleeping too much or general excessive laziness.

I hope to spend a not insignificant amount of time writing, and here are my priorities:

Bellarke Big Bang: My main goal is to finish the Bellamy section. I don’t know what that will be in terms of word count (everything is, of course, already ballooning...) but it will be a good accomplishment regardless. I have less of an idea of how the Clarke section should go, though it is coming together a bit more in my head, so that’s why I’m not going to push myself to start it this weekend. If I get very inspired, yes. If not, that’s okay.

I’m also thinking of cutting off the Bellamy part earlier, partly because it’s going on longer than I originally thought, and partly because I think it will flow better that way. I’ll have him exposit a little later to fill in the gaps, and I’ll put their meeting in Clarke POV, and hope that his intro section, and her intro section + their meeting will be roughly equal in length. I just don’t want the chapter to feel lopsided. But even though in a sense there’s more to explain about Clarke, there’s also less to explain, because some of the explanation is going to come later. I want her bits to start off more mysterious, because ultimately there will be more scenes there, so I need to parse out the info slowly. Whereas with Bellamy, it needs to be up front, because otherwise, where else would it go? Also, though this technically split POV I feel like I’ll be with Bellamy more overall.

I also need to come up with a proper summary and so on for claims. Can’t forget that.

Rare Pair Fic: I’ve been thinking about this a decent bit recently and coming up with more ideas, more concrete thoughts for scene 4 especially. I even wrote down some quick notes today at work before I could forget. Honestly, sometimes I really care about this story but other times I just want to be finished with it because I’ve had it on my plate for so long. It’s a very traditionally-me story, light on plot, heavy on ~feelings, which sometimes feels good and comfortable to write, and sometimes just feels like me being in a rut. On the other hand... it’s not a Bellarke fic and sometimes I do need a break

Sleeping Beauty AU Chapter 5: I’ve been so caught up in editing and preparing Chapter 2 that I almost forgot that, hey, there’s still a good chapter-and-a-half, at least, that has not yet been written at all. Whoops. I really couldn’t focus on both at once, but I’d like to pick up Chapter 5 again before I lost the thread of it entirely. Again.

Those are the main three. I have some others--other projects, other ideas, which I’m mulling over, but I feel like I need that rare pair fic either done or significantly worked on before I can start or resurrect anything else.

#the year 2019 #2019: writing projects

[poeticandvaguelysweet]

Prompt #219 - TBAH: It’s a Girl!

@all--the--dancers : Owen finding out that their fifth and final baby is FINALLY a girl! 

I asked Majella last week if I wrote one thing that night what would she want it to be. This was her choice. It took me like 5 days to finish it. Whoops. 

AO3 - To Build a Home

IT’S A GIRL!

They needed a new bed. Claire decided, thinking to herself as she lifted her eyes from the tablet in her hand. Something bigger than the king they already had, enough to fit another child comfortably and then some. Not that she was planning to fill their bed with any more babies. Her hand stroked her rounding stomach. Last one. And then she could get back to her job and a life free of carrying Owen’s heavy babies in the pit of her tiny pelvis.

Five was enough. Five wasn’t even supposed to happen. They should have stopped at three but when the ovum split, creating to perfectly identical little boys their plans at a small brood instantly grew. Owen got a vasectomy a little under a year ago. Fate wasn’t in their favour when he couldn’t keep his hands off his wife in the advised window leading to their fifth child rounding out her stomach. The vasectomy was supposed to prevent that from happening … Claire still wasn’t over being bitter about it. They were looking forward to another little life. A final chance to kiss those baby years goodbye before they settled into Bernie’s incoming adolescence.

Currently, their bed was full. Bernard, Hunter, Marshall and Ryan all sprawled across the covers this way and that as their little faces relaxed in sleep. Owen was still reading beside her, black-rimmed glasses perched on his nose as he read something about a hover car racer Bernie was enthralled with. It had become a nighttime ritual, Owen reading to his boys, Claire trying to get work done as sleep usually claimed her with the calm of her husband's warm voice.

Her iPad had locked itself ten minutes ago as she watched small chests rise and fall, her twin boys cramped into the space between herself and Owen, their bodies pressed together, thumbs in their mouths. They never forgot that they were twins but it startled Claire sometimes when their minds and bodies mirrored the other. Hunter had set himself up on the end of the bed, stretched from end to end while Bernard occupied the space between his parent's legs were the twins weren’t yet tall enough to fill. He was the only one still awake and fighting it as Owen continued to read about Jason Chaser none the wiser to his sleeping audience.

Bernard was gone within another page, eyes closing and staying that way for good. Claire felt her heart clench, chest tight as she watched her sweet boys finally sit still and remain quiet. The twins beside her were grunting in their sleep but that was nothing to the constant noise that rattled throughout their home. Four boys. She couldn’t believe it. If they had known that’s where their life would have led all those years ago, she would have thought it all an erratic fantasy.

It was true. Owen Grady and Claire Dearing had gotten married, built a home and brought four wild little boys into the world. She knew the gender of their fifth child, wasn’t supposed to but their well-meaning neighbour had let it slip.

Katie had offered to throw Claire a gender reveal party. She was high on the idea, excited and a little mournful that it was the last baby her friends would have. They had four boys and like with each pregnancy, there was a fifty-fifty chance the baby was a girl. It was all Owen wanted, more than anything in the world, was to have a baby girl of his own.

In confirming a few ideas she had, Katie had let it slip. The secret she knew. The gender of Baby Dearing-Grady #5. Claire tried to forget it, tried to pretend she hadn’t heard. But the confirmation had been stuck in her head for two days and it wouldn’t die out.

Watching her boys and listening to her husband Claire couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed. The tears burned her eyes, her lungs seized, holding onto her breath a little too tight. He was a good dad. Their boys were noisy but patient, kind, empathetic. They were going to grow into strong young men that would continue to cherish those in their lives. Owen deserved so much for the effort he put in. He deserved the little girl he had been dreaming about long before they met. His dreams had altered, his need for a daughter growing now that his wife was a dynamo, Owen once explaining that he just needed a piece of her that would grow to look and be exactly like her mother. He never wanted the world to go without a Claire Dearing.

She had argued that their boys could do that. She saw herself in their hearts and their minds. They caught his sense of humour but it was her quick wit mixed with it. Claire had warned that there was a chance — if they had a daughter — that she would turn out exactly like her father or be an amalgamation of them both. He was willing to risk that chance.

She loved him for that.

It wasn’t until Owen finished the chapter that he noticed she was quietly crying beside him.

‘Whoa, hey, what’s wrong?’ He asked, all concern, book tossed to the floor with a quiet thud as his hand found her arm over the body of their youngest sons.

‘You’re such a good dad.’ Claire could barely see his face through her blurry blue eyes. A sob was climbing its way up her throat, the woman desperate for it not to break and wake her sleeping sons. ‘It’s a girl.’ She told him so quietly Claire feared it was all in her head. Owen blinked when she did, eyes clearing to catch the shock on his face. He didn’t move. ‘Katie accidentally let it slip.’ The silence continued. ‘You’re getting your baby girl.’ Her eyes watered again, voice wet as a small cry slipped free.

She could hear Owen gaping, mouth opening and closing, unable to find the words until both his hands were on her face and his lips on hers. She didn’t know how he did it with the small bodies between them but he was kissing her, ferociously, their faces wet and tasing of salt.

‘Yeah?’ He asked the only thing he was capable of. Claire nodded. ‘I — I can’t —‘ He trailed off, hands squeezing her face before they fluttered down her arms, gripping here and there. She wanted to remember the look on his face for the rest of her days but Claire couldn’t see him between her tears. She felt his hands, one holding steady on the roundness of her belly that was starting to make her fear their child being another big boy. His other hand tugged at her shirt, pulling it over her prominent bump so his fingers could have contact with her skin. His lips were on her stomach in a heartbeat, peppering all over the way he had done a hundred times over the last eight years. ‘A girl?’ He asked again and she nodded. ‘Claire, I — I love you so much, babe. I love our boys. I would have loved another one. But, a girl?!’ His words stopped, choking sound filtering from his throat before it turned into a cry. ‘I’m so glad we fucked up and got another chance at this.’

She hit him at the mention of their misinformation concerning his vasectomy, her small fist landing against the side of his arm as hard as she could swing. Owen barely moved. Claire hardly cared. She had done the one thing she thought impossible; Claire Dearing had rendered her husband speechless for longer than thirty seconds.

‘Mama?’ It was Hunter’s concerned voice, Claire wiping the tears from her eyes as she looked over at her second boy, sitting up on the end of the bed. She felt the twins stir beside her, their grizzles growing louder as Bernie was quick to follow with bleary-eyed confusion. She couldn’t be upset that they were awake, they needed to be moved into their own beds eventually.

‘It’s okay.’ She told them, Marshall and Ryan wiggling past their dad to climb into their mother’s lap, fitting themselves around her growing middle.

‘You’re getting a sister!’ Owen told them, a smile splitting his face in half as he pushed his weight against the mattress and bounced with complete glee.

‘We were supposed to wait until Katie’s party.’ Hunter told them, confusion knitting itself between his eyebrows, the boy deflated, almost disappointed. Claire nodded, small laugh on her lips. Bernie drew their attention, eldest boy sitting in the middle of the bed, lip curled, fingers pressed to his mouth. His tears were hot and heavy, slipping down his cheeks as his throat crackled.

Claire reached for him, immediately trying to soothe her eldest boy as she asked if he was okay. ‘I really really wanted a little sister.’ He cried, leaning into Claire’s touch as he shuffled over to bury his head against his mother’s neck. Claire’s hand slipped through his dirty blonde hair, catching the long strands that were in desperate need of a trim. Marshall grunted, elbow sliding back into his older brothers ribs as Bernie shoved him back, quietly reassuring the youngest of his place in the sibling hierarchy. The oldest Grady boy was as rough and tumble just like the others. He started the game, but once the others came alone it was evident to Owen and Claire that Bernard was the softest of their boys. He took his role as eldest seriously and used to nurture his brothers and well as discipline them. However, he wasn’t afraid to get rough. If they hit him, he would hit them back, would yell at the same pitch, would get agitated and impatient all the same.

Owen reached a hand between the two boys, separating their small fight before it got to hands-on, shoves turning into fists until their mother got hurt in the process. He couldn’t count on two hands the number of times they had each gotten a strong fist to the face.  

He was beyond ready for a little girl. Something calm and sweet in the midst of all this chaos.  His body was still shaking with the news. Maybe Claire was right. Four kids were enough. Three was where the line should have been drawn but twins weren’t something he thought to plan for. ‘C’mere, Marsh.’ He reached for the boy, plucking him right from Claire's arms as Owen bounced him on his hip. ‘Are you excited?’ He asked the boy who only rested his head on Owen’s shoulder.

‘Brother.’ He told him, pointing at Ryan who was climbing to a wobbly stand on his mother’s legs, hand on her chest to steady himself.

‘That’s your brother, yeah.’ Owen confirmed, kissing the boy’s head as he held a flat palm out for Ryan, the boy wobbling towards it before Owen scooped him up with his empty arm. ‘You’re gonna get a sister.’ He was crying again, voice unaffected as the tears steadily fell down his face. ‘Do you think that’ll be fun?’ The twins nodded, blonde curls bouncing on their heads as Owen turned to his wife to catch her watching them with awe.

‘We’re crazy.’ She told him, voice quiet, barely there in what had been the snoozy bubble of their bedroom. Five kids. Four boys and a little girl. There had been a point in her life where Claire was sure she wouldn’t have any children, let alone four with their fifth on the way.

‘You’re just figuring that out?’ Owen flashed her a grin. He was standing by Claire’s side of the bed, a toddler on each hip as he bounced them steadily, boys mirroring each other with blonde heads on his shoulder.

Claire shook her head. ‘Oh no, I figured that out when I let you keep Daisy.’ The cow that was currently out to pasture on their property, happily munching on the grass — and the daisies the boys liked to feed her — often found resting near the fence that bordered the chicken coop. Claire Dearing realised she lost the plot when it clicked that her husband had slowly integrated her life into farm living.

The boys loved it. She couldn’t really complain. That, or as his Mama said, she was so often pregnant most of her complaining was focused on swollen ankles and growing bellies that she didn’t have time to notice he had turned the city girl into a country mouse.

‘We need ice-cream!’ Owen announced, sounding exactly like her hyper boys in the middle of the afternoon. Claire shook her head but Owen wasn’t looking, his eyes were jumping from each boy’s face and back again. ‘And milkshakes! Strawberry milkshakes!’ That got their attention, Bernie and Hunter, on their knees, bouncing on the bed and ready to leap right off it.

Claire’s voice was low when she caught his attention just to level him with a stern look. ‘It’s bedtime.’ Owen laughed, waving her off like all four boys hadn’t just been asleep, almost ready to be carried off into their beds.

‘We’re having a girl, Claire! It deserves a milkshake.’ His face was drawn in serious lines other than the smile her husband couldn’t subdue. There would be no arguing with him.

‘You have to put them to bed.’ She warned. ‘And all tummy aches and tantrums tomorrow are yours and yours alone.’ Owen nodded eagerly. He had already been waiting on her hand and foot since she told him they would be having a fifth baby. Bedtime and tummy aches were nothing new to his routine.

‘I’ll bring one up for ya.’ He grinned, bending to kiss his wife’s cheek as Bernie jumped off the bed, his feet hitting the floor with a heavy thud as Claire cringed for his ankles. Marshall was placed on his feet as Ryan clung to his father’s shirt, refusing to let go while each boy followed him out of the room like eager little ducks. What was better than dessert when they should be sleeping?

Claire sighed, hands running over her rounding belly she had started to think would be another boy. She was going to get up, follow her husband and her sons when the sheets rustled beside her. Hunter had stayed behind.

‘Don’t you want to go make milkshakes?’ She asked, smile soft and encouraging.

Hunter shrugged, fingers twitching in his lap as his mother watched him carefully. ‘I don’t want a milkshake.’ He told her, face almost drawn in a full frown. ‘I don’t want another baby.’ It was the first she had heard those words. At six months pregnant, it was a little late for Hunter to voice disapproval. Claire needed that voice months ago when she wasn’t sure if they were making the right decision or not. Hunter’s disinterest in another sibling wasn’t completely out of the blue. If she had looked, it had always been there. When they told the boys she was pregnant again he had sighed deeply, disappointed and tired before he pulled away from everyone and went to his room. With four boys, they were already struggling to keep on top of them. Her mother's guilt kicked in, terrible feeling stirring in her gut when she realised they hadn’t been checking in on the boy's feelings as thoroughly as they ought.

‘It’s not so bad.’ She told him, unsure of what to say. Their numbers grew quickly and before now neither of their older boys had protested. ‘You won’t have to share a room.’ She told him, nudging the boys' side and hoping that was enough to convince him. ‘What are you most worried about?’

The boy watched his fingers in his lap, unable to look at her. ‘You’re gonna be with the baby all the time and not us and … and … and we won’t get to see you cause they’re sleepin’ or eating and that uses up all your day.’ He stopped, breathing through his open mouth as his fingers tugged on the string in his pyjama pants.

He was only three when the twins were born and despite being completely blind sighted by double the number of infants Claire and Owen both thought they managed newborns and their older two sons well enough. She couldn’t quite put her finger on whether Hunter was talking from experience or simply expressing what he feared would happen.

‘It will be like that sometimes. Babies need a lot of attention especially when they first come home. But, Scooby,’ the use of his pet name pulled the boys' attention. ‘I promise dad and I will make time for each of your boys individually, okay?’ She waited for his nod. ‘If you’re feeling left out you need to tell us, okay?’ Another nod. Satisfied, Claire pulled the boy to her side, giving him a tight squeeze and a kiss on the head. ‘Lets go make sure your father and brothers aren’t destroying the kitchen.’ She gave him one last squeeze before they both got up, Hunter close to her side as they followed the sounds of the blender and laughing little boys.

#clawen #jurassic world #despite the odds #to build a home #bernard grady #hunter grady #Marshall and Ryan #Everly Grady

[sazzafraz]

All About Music...

So the full playlist is out now. I can’t say I’m very circumspect about what ends up on mine, it’s a combination of inspiration and atmosphere, but here is the basic rundown-

Rise Up (Intro) - Black Flies 

This is the essentials of the first arc which I’ve titled Air. It doesn’t have a very deep theme because it’s actually a left over from the original iteration of this universe. In that next-world-over fic ntfs was split into three parts following each member of Team 7 as they navigated adulthood. Basically everything that happened in the first quarter of this story was the entirety of Sasuke’s part of that one. I think only a few things -the mission in Wave was longer, we covered the mission Sasuke ran with some POW’s, Kabuto played a bigger role- changed when I decided to go this way instead.

It’s not a section I have too many deep insights into because it’s pretty much as it sounds. Rise Up is the momentary freeing of Itachi’s death. Hollow Moon was always primarily about Giri (I’mma make a deal with the bad wolf so the bad wolf don’t bite no more) with a few lines specific to Sasuke (the entire second verse). Dark Horses is literally the original name for this fic and what I was listening to when I wrote the entire first section in one sitting (minus Itachi’s burial scene. I re-wrote that fucker about a half dozen times). Mineshaft was a late comer to the playlist. I like the original better than the one on the playlist but Spotify doesn’t have that one. It’s more of a nod to the see saw of discovering how little you know compared to what you thought. 

Oh Woman, Oh Man and Gravel to Tempo are in this section because it brushes up against the first stirrings of actual agency our protagonist manages in possibly his entire life. Even if the decision is to not kill a child, to leave something hr can’t keep faith in, to travel on his own terms and to wander, not wonder. Small things compared to all the other shit he’s done. I love both of these songs as expressions of trying to figure out love/identity more than a direct correlation to the story. Black Flies is the response to that, and has moved around on this playlist a lot, but I like a less sad interpretation. It’s just acceptance that you’re neither as small or as big as you think.

Send Them Off! - This River Is Wild

I just realised that Rivers In Your Mouth is a few songs higher up then it should be, whoops. 

Send Them Off! is here for that awesome opening. I needed something in the playlist that sort of re-set the tone of the fic. The opening chapter of this arc, Water, is where we met Obito/Tobi/Madara for the first time and he kind of just deserves it. Hurricane is next and it’s a song that I debated about for legit months because it’s a bit much for any playlist to contend with. I put it on because would you kill to save a life is the roundabout question Tobi is trying to ask and Sasuke’s answer is both yes and no. Yes I would but not on your terms. Small Things through to End of the Affair are atmospheric. I love Ben Howard a lot and one of things I most admire is the emotional grip he has on his music. The Crow, What the Water Gave Me, History Has it’s Eyes on You and Queen of Peace actually all cover the same space in the story through Civil Affair.

The Crow is the character song for Sasuke. It is absolutely a corner stone of characterisation. Anger is just love, left out, turned into vinegar should be tattooed on my forehead that’s how much I’ve thought about that line. How could you get a more distilled understanding of this character then that? You wake up a stranger and learn how to live with her. And in the worst winters the whole thing feels untenable. I will point and quote entire sections of this song to prove my point. The version I prefer for this is actually the Castor, The Twin one. I’m not convinced the stripped back thing works for all of them but it takes The Crow to the best version of itself, a fast spoken poem that’s not afraid of itself, nor unkind.

The Lamb, An Act Of Kindness and This River is Wild are for the last chapter where we meet Karin and Sakura again. They don’t have a relationship song because I’ve never found one that says ‘I love you for the best of reasons and still against good judgement’. Nor one that says ‘the only thing I want here is to hurt you less than I already have’. History Has It’s Eyes on You is technically for Karin but has a wider meaning in the universe, so.

The Lamb is on my short list of songs about Itachi and Sasuke. The actual song is about abuse and it’s here on this playlist because I feel there’s a need to address the horror of Itachi’s high handedness (But blood is blood, and it’s beast is a burden). It’s here as a reference to the chapter before when Sasuke steps away from the family blood and the next chapter where he gets stuck again, moored in history he doesn’t know and can’t know, because his brother took that choice from him. I kind of recommend reading the lyrics for the song. 

This River is Wild is both about letting go and coming back around. It’s my song for Kakashi and Sasuke’s weird journey. 

Coda - End Credits

Oh man we aren’t even all of the way through this arc. This one is Fire. Coda is a palette cleanser, kind of just imagine you’re coming home after a long time, you’re in the car looking straight up, not noticing as you get closer and when you look down, bam! There it is. For better or worse. 

I Wanna Get Better is also the quote for this chapter. I miss the days of a life still permanent. In earlier drafts of this fic Sasuke actually had broken through his suicidality and was being a better person by this point. But it’s one of those great I wanna be this person songs, rather than I am this person. Warm Blood to Nothing Where Something Used to Be is allll about Naruto. The playlist of songs about them is too long. 

This is where Rivers In Your Mouth and No One Would Riot for Less come In. Also Limousine by Brand New which seems to have just disappeared off this playlist. I played Limousine three times while reworking the scene where Sasuke finds out what happened to his family. Especially for that end section of the song. No One Would Riot For Less is the aftermath as well as being beautiful in its own right. The ‘who fucking cares’ part of that chapter along with the answer that ‘he does, still, a little.’ Rivers In Your Mouth is a Top Ten song for me and the song for the Naruto and Sasuke relationship in this story. Remember this bit:  And you showed me hope amidst the harlequins in spring And you told me life was learning how to be your friend. As well as the walls he’s been beating himself against trying to come to terms with the world he lives in. 

Come at you from both sides of your mind Thick and thin these Walls you’ll always stand behind Are sick and tired Oh I beg for the world to change But it don’t No it ain't all you and that’s the thing

I love this song. A lot. 

This brings us up to what is published right now. I’ll go fix the songs that have slipped out of place. When we reach the end of the arc I’ll add the rest. 

I hope we’ve all learned about how much thinking about this universe eats my life.  

#ntfs #music stuff #i really care about my playlists and it shows

[callioope]

Do this:

List all the things you’re currently working on in as much or as little detail as you’d like, then tag some friends to see what they’re working on: writing, art, gifsets, whatever.

I was tagged by @lustfulpasiphae and @too-wise-to-woo-peaceably — thank you!

So Monday is my flex day so the plan is pretty much immerse myself in writing for two days straight. We’ll see if that happens but I’m optimistic. Whoops I started writing this post and didn’t finish, but yes I sat myself down and I wrote for two days yay!

Whatever I Do (I Do It To Protect You): Chapter 11 — my Lyra Lives AU. Coruscant chapter is outlined, or mostly outlined, and in severe danger of being split into two chapters, which I wanted to avoid. I have one scene written, but I might scrap it. Yea, I’ve been kinda bad about writing in general lately. This one has so much going on that I’m overwhelmed by the idea of starting it. The last time I tried to write it, my mind said “how about we do this instead?” and “if I wait (will you stay?)” happened. I’m trying.

Leia goes to Tatooine to get Obi-Wan AU — technically a spin-off of Whatever I Do, but my intention is that it will be able to stand alone. It’s about what happens if Leia had been able to finish Bail’s original plan to pick up Obi-Wan. I have a tentative outline for this.

if i wait (will you stay?) — FINISHED IT BAM. I have no more distractions excuses for WID.

I want to do the Rom Com thing. I submitted a bunch of ideas, but there is one in particular that I’m hoping to get fingers crossed.

I’ve been toying with the idea of expanding that Aladdin AU. (when did you last let your heart decide?) Like I want to do it but it’s just low on the list.

and... well... :/ I sort of have been half-working on/half-sitting on a 10 Things I Hate About You AU giftset-story-mash up thing, but I only work on it sporadically because other items have been higher priority and I’m a bit out of my element with gifsets (working with sis for help). (I plotted it out months ago, but it’s been neglected.) It’s Han/Leia as Patrick/Kat, Bodhi/Luke as Cameron/Bianca, and Cassian/Jyn as Michael/Mandella. It’s pretty silly, but, idk, it amuses me when I’m stuck on more serious stories.

Tagging, if want to do it? @rxbxlcaptain, @operaticspacetrash, @thenewleeland, @jeeno2

#tag meme #my writing #fanfic #fic update