homiegeesus
secure in my insecurities
Linsi - She/Her
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ITS OVER BIDEN WON.
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The Year of Magical Thinking update
So, I doubt anybody's going to read this, but I thought I'd put it out there all the same. I've been away for awhile (since like November 😬), but please know that I have not abandoned this story. I'm still very much committed to finishing it. Trust me, I think about it nearly every day (yeah, I'm kinda obsessed with my own story nbd...). Unfortunately, I have this...not-so-nice relationship that has been ostensibly zapping the motivation from me. Without going into too much detail, it feels like every time I go to write, something...or someone...happens and I lose all confidence in what I'm writing.
But, this is not the only thing killing my ability to update. Like many other people in the world, I have an autoimmune disease. While I am in remission from the worst of the symptoms right now, I still have forgetfulness and brain fog (& fatigue 🥱). This sucks when you're trying to write an intricately woven story. Well, at least it is "intricately woven" in my mind...
(actual video of me trying to focus)
BUT, all is not hopeless! I'm counting down the days until my lease is up this summer, and I am getting the hell outta Dodge! Lol, anybody got any recs for good states/cities??
Seriously though, I'm doing my best to keep my head above the water. I'm optimistic that I'll post an update sooner rather than later. I just want this story to be Different™. I have so many plans for it; with vibrant, compelling characters and engrossing storylines with twists and turns. Yeah, I know this may be an Augean task for an amateur writer (fanfiction writer, at that), but I'm game to do it.
Love y'all 😘
#The Year of Magical Thinking#story update#Red Dead Redemption#rdr2 fandom#rdr2 fanfic#arthur morgan x oc#arthur x oc#red dead redemption 2
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How RDR2 should have ended.
Source
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WIP Challenge
Thanks to the super lovely and talented @homiegeesus for the tag! :) Here’s a little snippet from this story I was trying to write ages ago that focused on Eliza and Arthur. It kind of fell apart, but I still go back to it occasionally. I was going to post a snippet from Memories of the West, but I’m about to post that chapter today so it felt like cheating :) So here’s some Young!John and Young!Arthur bonding (or annoying the shit out of each other).
……
“Arthur?”
He didn’t have to turn to know the voice. “Yes, John?”
“I’m bored.”
“Well, go find somethin’ to get into.”
“Hosea said I was to stay with you.”
“That’s ‘cause Hosea don’t want you kickin’ up a fuss, runnin’ your mouth to someone you shouldn’t.”
John sighed and come to stand beside Arthur on the balcony. He folded his lanky arms along the railing, rested his chin on them.
“How you manage to get your hair lookin’ like that?” Arthur asked, genuinely curious. Arthur had just recently been made to hold the kid down while Hosea chopped away at stringy, hopelessly matted hair. It was short now, almost to the scalp, but John had still managed to get it messy.
“Dunno.” John ran a hand along the top of his head idly, making it worse, a frown on his face. “Hey, let’s go to the saloon.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“’Cause you’ll get us in trouble.”
Keep reading
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You ever write something then a couple hours later you look at it again and hate it and wish you never submitted it and you will it to be deleted from the universe and never spoke of again?
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WIP Challenge
Thank you, @shallow-gravy, for the tag. I seriously need all the motivation I can get to actually do sum writin. Of course I had to go and start a whole ‘nother story (it’s actually a oneshot). I am working on a new chapter of The Year of Magical Thinking, promise. Just having a bit of a time management issue since I went on vacation. Anyway, here’s the snippet of the oneshot. It hasn’t been beta’d or anything, so all mistakes are my own. It’s an angst-fest tentatively titled “Atonement”.
******
Tiny specks of dust danced in the waning afternoon sunlight coming through the window of the modest single-room cabin. A man and woman laid, limbs entwined, in the post-coital haze of lingering bliss. Their gazes met unflinching, imparting everything without saying anything. The man tracked a calloused thumb delicately over the plump bottom of the woman’s lip.
“Take me away,” she whispered suddenly.
He looked into her storm-gray eyes; despondency clouded them. A small tear pooled in the cradle of the side of her nose.
“Arthur,” her breath washed over his face, pleading. “Take me away.”
It was what she had asked of him every time they reunited. She continuously communicated her willingness to escape this life God had seen fit to curse them with. If only, this time, Arthur had recognized the desperation in her voice.
He stared at the narrow bed as he let the memory of his last moment with her envelope him. Taking a seat on the edge of the old cot, he reached a hand over her pillow. Closing his eyes, he willed himself to remember everything about her. The length of her umber hair; impossible curls that bounced when pulled. Innocent gray-blue eyes that had drawn him in before he even knew he was caught. She was the only truth he had known. And he had failed her.
Arthur gripped the pillow and cradled it in his arms. Lying on his side, he placed his nose against the soft fabric and breathed deep. Her flowery scent lingered faintly in the gentle weave of the cotton. In the solitude of the empty cabin, he allowed unshed tears to fall.
****
it’s prob a longshot, but i’ll tag @tiesthatbind1899, @boomturkey, @verai-marcel, @shootybangbang if y’all want to participate. <3
#Red Dead Redemption#red dead redemption 2#arthur morgan#arthur morgan x oc#Arthur morgan x ofc#rdr2 fic#Arthur x oc#wip#rdr2 fanfic#rdr2
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Thank you for tagging me. I need the motivation! I finally sat down to write something. Unfortunately, it is part of a oneshot I'm working on and completely unrelated to my main story. Send help lol
Wip Snippet
Thank you so much for the tag @galadrieljones! 🖤
I swear to god I am in fact working on the last chapter of Blackbird’s Song and now I’m going to prove it! *rubs hands together*
Warning: naughty language
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"Abigail, wake up. Get your shit together, honey. We gotta figure some things out real quick, 'cause I ain't sure we got a lot of time."
Abigail swallowed thickly, finally tried to move and found about what she'd expected; she couldn't. "Sadie. Y-You know where we are?"
“No. Fuckers put a sack over my goddamn head. Thinkin’ I heard a boat go by earlier, though. A big one. Steamer, maybe."
Abigail furrowed her brows. Her brain felt like it was buzzing. "A boat...?"
"There's, uh...sounds kinda like seagulls outside, too," Jack muttered.
Abigail could hear the cracks in his voice. Her boy was terrified and she could feel that terror, compounding on top of her own.
"Shh—shut up," Sadie hissed as footsteps and voices came near. A door at the side of the room swung open and silhouetted two figures.
"Well, well. They's awake. What you wanna do with ‘em, boss?"
“Nothin’ just yet," Micah replied as he sauntered across the threshold and squatted down beside Abigail, setting the lantern he carried down upon the floor. He grabbed her chin in one hand, angled her head up forcefully to make her look at him. "Hello again, sweet thing."
"Don't you touch her, you fuckin' pig,” Sadie gritted through her teeth as she squirmed against the ropes that bound her.
Micah shot her a dagger-sharp glare over his shoulder with his one good eye, his mouth curling down in a sneer. "Kindly shut the fuck up, Mrs. Adler," he huffed out with a cold smile and a smooth breath before turning his attention back to Abigail. "Marston's little family here needs to keep til he arrives, but you? Heh heh, well, I could put a bullet between your eyes any time now."
😳😳👀😅😅
I’ll send along some tags to @muse-of-nightmares, @homiegeesus, @narutoast-yt, @smithandrogers & @deviantramblings, only if you want to of course☺️ and anyone else who wants to
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me? letting an entire fic play out in my head from beginning to end and not writing a single thing down, thus forever sealing it in my brain as a self-indulgent relic that will never see the light of day??
it’s exactly as likely as you think
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one of my favorite fucking feelings in the world is when you’re having a discussion with somebody about literature and themes and storytelling and etc or even just like, your feelings, and as you’re rambling on about the interpretation of something-or-the-other you have this lightbulb moment where two ideas connect in your head all of a sudden and you couldn’t have done it without the context of another person there and you both get so excited about this new theory you’re developing
like. collaboration. trust. complexity. awakenings. this shit isn’t just analysis, it’s art.
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me @ everyone who is writing right now
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Strangeness and Charm - Chapter 12 of The Outlaw and the Outlier (Arthur Morgan x OC)
SWEET JESUS, this took a lot out of me. I wrote, deleted, rewrote, deleted some more, and wrote some more amidst getting grades in, marking period 2 starting in school, and coming to the end of my grad school work.
Brief back story: I am morbidly fascinated by the paranormal. I spend an inordinate amount of time watching ridiculous (but really cool) ghost shows on TV, a pastime which has inevitably inspired me to write this chapter.
1. It’s LONG, so I’m posting a brief snippet and then a link to read the rest on my AO3; 2. It’s supposed to be a little weird, so bear with it, I guess?; 3. I figured this kind fits, since weird shit happens in RDR2 as it is.
(Also, a historical figure is BRIEFLY mentioned. I did, like, 5 seconds of research to see if he fit into the timeline and, since I wrote this a million years ago, I don’t even remember if it’s accurate, so…yeah.)
So, here it is, y’all.
Title: Strangeness and Charm - Chapter 12 of The Outlaw and the Outlier
Characters: Arthur Morgan, Claramae Howard (OC), John Marston
Warnings: Some (kinda) spookiness, some abusive language toward the end
Summary: John Marston gets a lead that brings the trio to an estate once owned by an infamous Spiritualist. What seems to be a bust turns out to be a battleground for the worst of Clara and Arthur’s fears.
Word Count: 12700+ (I’m sorry, just sorry, but I’d love it if you took the time to read it)
Song: Strangeness and Charm by Florence and the Machine (SEE WHAT I DID THERE?)
Clara sat down at the table and heaved a great, weary sigh.
The day had been far too hot for her liking, which only served to add to her already trying day. Heritage, usually a town ripe with bounties and paying jobs, seemed to have stemmed the tide of opportunity. And, because the weather was equally unwilling to cooperate, Clara had spent the majority of the day suffering from the blazing, unrelenting sun.
She glanced down at her bare arms and frowned. Clara ran a finger over the distinctly pink skin and winced as the beginnings of sunburn nipped at her flesh.
There was only one person to blame for this, she reasoned.
Clara glanced over at the bar and found the responsible party in question.
Arthur Morgan was a hard man to miss. He was bigger than most of the men in the saloon, a fact which did not go unnoticed by many of the patrons. Some eyed him with apprehension while others—particularly the bartender—remained undecided on whether or not Arthur was a threat.
He took a long swig from the bottle and kept to the corner of the bar. Clara watched him for a moment, noting the somber yet somewhat peaceful air about him. Arthur seemed content to linger outside the bounds of conversation; he wasn’t much for meaningless chatter, after all.
She was about to get his attention when she noticed a buxom girl sidle up next to Arthur.
Her skirts swished as she swung her hips in a decidedly suggestive manner. The corset she wore was purposely a size too small, which left little room for her generous breasts. The girl pressed her body against Arthur’s arm and leaned over, providing just enough gravity for her assests to practically slide from the corset top.
Arthur looked at her. His expression tightened with discomfort as he pulled away slightly. The girl remained undeterred, however, and only closed the distance between them.
Clara watched her trail her hand along the thick, solid muscle of his arm and curl around his wrist. She pressed her lips close to whisper in his ear and Arthur’s eyes widened a fraction.
Clara’s chest felt tight and hot. Her hand clenched into a fist and she was on her feet before she could think twice.
She sauntered up to where Arthur and the working girl stood. They glanced up at her approach. Arthur looked perplexed and the working girl was unmistakably irritated at the unwelcome interruption.
Clara slid a smile onto her lips and daggers into her eyes. “There you are, Arthur,” she cooed as her gaze firmly held Arthur’s. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
The working girl looked her up and down. Clara bore the brunt of the scrutiny and waited until the woman’s eyes slid back to hers.
Clara’s mouth twitched into a daring smirk.
Arthur straightened and stepped politely around the working girl. “If you’ll excuse me,” he muttered in half apology, half relief.
The working girl moved onto her next, more willing target.
Clara sat back down at the table and tried to quell the strange, unexpected flare of irritation that sat heavily in her chest.
“I would say thank you,” Arthur said as he raised an eyebrow in her direction, “but I ain’t entirely convinced you won’t stab me if I do.”
Keep reading
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#lmaooooo#this just keeps getting better and better#or worse and worser?#devin nunes#impeachment inquiry#news#politics#trump#rudy guiliani#ukraine
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“Anyone with red hair please cover it for your own safety.”
— Vinewood Tour Bus Guide (GTA V)
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