#also while in the tags we can still use this phrase for arthur's feelings

[lucacangettathisass]

How The Light Gets In 2.0 (3)

SUMMARY: After your home is ransacked by a group of strange men, you and your cousin are taken in by a group of outlaws. And that’s when the trouble really starts.

PAIRINGS: John Marston x Fem!Reader, Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader

CHAPTERS: One, Two

Tagging: @ghastlyrider @rommies @janebby @wedonttalkabouthenry if anyone would like to be tagged lmk!

NOTES: So this where more major edits will be happening as I try to actually match events in the game with the events in the fic, as I got some things mixed up last time. You will all also get to see a pretty big change from the original story *eyes emoji*, I hope you all like it! I highly recommend installing the Interactive Fics chrome extension if you haven’t already so you can use it to change ‘[Name]’ and ‘[Last Name]’ to your actual name! Shout out and god bless to the maker(s) of that extension!

“Now, let’s see how well these clothes fit.” Miss Grimshaw said, holding up the garments.

The men politely turned around, in order to better preserver yours and Sadie’s modesty, but the idea of being undressed in the presence of strange men still made you flush terrible, and that feeling of mortification more than the cold made you rush to get dressed.

In the end it turned out that Miss Grimshaw had guessed rather well, as Sadie had a similar body type to Miss Gaskill. Unfortunately, while she no doubt went with Miss Jones for you as it appeared the two of you had similar proportions, it turned out that your bust was heavier and your hips wider, which only served to cause you embarrassment.

“We’ll have to get you somethin’ that fits better once we’re off this mountain.” Miss Jones said, handing you a coat to make you warmer, and to cover up the rather embarrassing amount of your chest that was on display.

“I’ve always had a little trouble finding clothes that fit.” You said, wrapping the coat around you. “It’s just one of those things.” You smiled, doing your best to hide just how insecure this frustratingly persistent issue made you. As a child you were “awkwardly shaped”, as so many put it. Of course you knew what that really meant, and the phrasing only served to make you uncomfortable whenever going to get clothes.

You settled back down beside Sadie, feeling much better now that you were wearing something warm. You truly were surprised at the kindness these people were showing you and Sadie, considering that they were meant to be outlaws, and you felt awful for prejudging them, especially since you’ve had to deal with people’s pre-convinced judgements of you all your life.

“So, if you don’t mind me askin’…” Miss Gaskill looked between you and Sadie. “What…what happened?”

Immediately you looked over at Sadie to gauge her reaction, and see if she wanted to speak. But she just continued to stare into the fire, face empty.

You gently placed a hand on hers and squeezed it. “Those men, the O’Driscolls, they said they just wanted some shelter. So we, well, Jake and I, we let them in.” You paused as a lump started to form in your throat and a startling realization came to you.

You were partly at fault for what happened.

If you had been as skeptical as Sadie and vetoed Jake’s decision with her, then none of that would’ve happened. You would still have a home, and Sadie would still have a husband.

“And, well.” You tried to swallow the lump in your throat down, but it refused to move, forcing you to try and speak around it which only resulted in you sounding strangled. “I’m sure you can guess the rest.”

There was a heavy silence after you spoke, and you could feel the pity radiating off the others, and even noted the Reverend crossing himself. Even little Jack seemed upset, although you weren’t entirely sure if he understood just what was being discussed. If he did, that would just make it all even worse.

‘Lord Jesus have mercy me.’ You silently prayed. ‘On all of us.’ You would need to get a new prayer rope.

“We’ve lost some people too.” Miss Jackson said sadly. “We don’t even know where two of them are.”

“I’m sure Mac and Sean are fine.” Miss Jones said. “They always find a way.”

Knowing that some of them had hope made you smile and warmed your heart. You looked up at one of the windows and saw that the snow had eased up a little, and it looked like you would actually be able to walk through it without much difficulty.

“I’m going to check on Gladys.” You told Sadie. “I won’t be long.”

She only nodded, and you squeezed her hand before excusing yourself and venturing outside.

The stark contrast between the shelter and relative warmth of the house you had just been in and the open cold of the outside immediately made goosebumps form all over your body, but you ignored them and trudged your way to the snow to Gladys, who had remained hitched to the hitching post, much to your surprise.

“How you doing girl?” You asked gently, stroking her dark mane.

She whinnied, gently nudging your face.

“I know.” You said softly, doing your best to soothe and ease her. “I don’t know how much longer we’re gonna be here, but hopefully it won’t be too long.”

Gladys snorted, sounding a little skeptical to you.

“It never hurt to have hope.” You pointed out. You stroked her long face, fingers gliding along the black patch that formed a mask like pattern around her eyes. “Things are going to be different from now on girl.” You said softly. “These people were nice enough to take us in and it looks like we’re going to stay with them for a while, so you behave, ok?”

Gladys snorted again and stomped a hoof, but she still nuzzled her nose against your cheek, making you giggle. “Thanks girl.”

After a few more minutes of bonding, you returned to the house, and upon entering saw Miss Roberts engaged in what appeared to be a pressing conversation with Mr Morgan.

“Arthur please!” Miss Roberts pleaded, clearly desperate. “It’s been too long already!”

But her pleas fell on deaf ears as Mr Morgan warmed his hands by the furnace.

You looked up and noticed another man leaning against the window. He was wearing a rather charming bowler hat and what appeared to be a thick shawl of some kind that covered his shoulders and chest. He brought a lit cigarette to his mouth, pausing when he spotted you.

His dark eyes slowly raked over you, starting from your feet, all the way to the top of your head, before going back to your face. His gaze was hard to read, something you’re not used to, but you could still feel the intensity. He brought the cigarette to his mouth again, slowly, eyes never leaving yours.

You felt your face flush with nerves and you looked away, back at Miss Roberts and Mr Morgan.

“I’m sure Marston is perfectly fine Abigail.”

Marston?

The name sent a jolt down your spine, and you could feel all the hairs on your body standing up.

“Just-please Arthur.” Miss Roberts clasped Mr Morgan’s arm, face desperate. “Please.”

Mr Morgan held her gaze, stoic and impassive.

“Come on Arthur.”

You looked back at the other man as he crushed the cigarette with his boot. “If it was the other way around, I know he would look for me. And you.”

That seemed to get to Mr Morgan, as he sighed heavily, closing his eyes. “Fine.” He grumbled. “Gonna need a horse though.”

“You can take Gladys.” It took you a moment to realize that the words had come out of your own mouth. You cleared your throat as all eyes fell on you, and you felt yourself flushing again. “I-I don’t mind. And she’s confident with this environment, she won’t let you down Mr Morgan.”

The older man looked just as surprised as you felt at your offer. “Ya sure?”

“Of course.”

He seemed to consider this, before sighing once again. “’Preciate it.” He looked back at Miss Roberts. “We’ll be back.”

And with that he and the other man left, with the latter giving you one last glance.

“Who was that with Mr Morgan?” You asked as soon as the door closed.

“Javier Escuela.” Miss Grimshaw replied. “He’s from Mexico.”

“And seemed awfully interested in you young missy.” Mr Uncle chuckled with a warm smile.

“Oh I very much doubt that.” You replied.

“Who’s the Marston they were talkin’ about?” Sadie asked softly, startling all of you.

“John Marston. Jack’s father.” Miss Roberts sat down by the furnace, pulling her son into her lap. “He’s been missin’ for two days, and, well...” She cast her gaze downwards. “I just want to know if he’s ok.”

You tried to tell yourself to remain calm. John Marston is a perfectly common name, it doesn’t mean anything. Not in the slightest.

You glanced over at Sadie, only to find that she was already looking at you, face hard. “I suppose we’ll find out, one way or another.”

You looked away.

#arthur morgan x reader #john marston x reader #Red Dead Redemption #red dead fic #rdr 2 fic #fic: how the light gets in (2.0)

[fluffypotatey]

You know what, coming back to this edit, I think the reason why we can notice how this single phrase (anyone but him) changes meaning is due to where the emphasis is.

Anyone but him, Merlin says to Kilgharrah, pleading for his destiny to be bound to someone else. To anyone else. Not him. Arthur is spoiled and rude and he’s the son of Uther. Anyone else but this one.

And we can also see that is the same reaction Arthur has when Merlin becomes his manservant. Anyone else but him, father. He’s disrespectful and snarky and has no idea how the hierarchy works. He would rather have any other peasant but this one.

We get to the Diamond of the Day, and so many years have passed. The emphasis has changed. Merlin no longer begs for anyone to take Arthur’s place in their shared destiny. He no longer wishes for the Once and Future King to be anyone because there can’t be anyone like him.

Anyone but him, Merlin cries to the dragon. He is lost and alone. The body is cold and he feels empty. Inside, Merlin knows Arthur is no longer with him, but his heart still cries out. Not him. Merlin would do anything to have Arthur come back. He would wait a 1,000 years to see him again. Because anyone isn’t him. He is everything. And so Merlin cries out again: anyone but him.

#merthur #bbc merlin #merlin meta #was feeling angsty most of the day so this is here for a treat #camelotsheart #this is for you #also while in the tags we can still use this phrase for arthur's feelings #anyone but him arthur whispers #merlin is cold and lifeless on the ground the dorocha had just passed through his friend and merlin will die please anyone but him #merlin is back alive and he feel like he can finally breathe he just needs to hold him but not enough to see like he's gone for him #anyone but him he screams as the boulders fall and separate the them #please anyone #not him #not merlin who was hurt and who he left behind #anyone but him his heart whispers in the caves as merlin turns back and leave him again and it's fine until it isn't and he has to go back #don't take him arthur's heart cries as he follows merlin's trail in the caves because arthur's lost enough #he's lost enough people close to him and he'll be damned if he loses merlin too (again) not him anyone but him #:) #this is what you get when rumi and i spiral together #i'm guessing everyone has figured this out but i was in an angsty mood and saw this gif and spiraled....woops?

[weterali]

Fic Ask

Tagged by @radio-chatter! <3 Thank you very much, this brought some memories. And made me finally browse the “stats” page on AO3. (Took me a while to find out about the kudos... I nearly started counting before I noticed the button, oh my god, that would’ve killed me.) 

Tagging, as in - if you feel like it, of course - @brujahinaskirt and @fooolie

How many works do you have on AO3?

49 - too lazy to put all my works there, though. (Maybe one day...) (Hah!)

What’s your total AO3 word count?

450,699

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Rat the Judge

2. Rat the Companion

3. Rat the Bastard 

All three are in the same series, for Red Dead Redemption 2. My first toe-tipping into the fandom and in English at that. I was very nervous. It’s very soft, a bit angsty, musing about what ifs, starring Arthur, Charles and Charlotte. 

4. Behind the Curtain - my first decision to try and start translating into English. A Son & Father fic. Kingdom Come Deliverance. I wanted the AO3 page to look as if it had more works.

5. No Statue for You - also KCD. I like this one. Nothing special! But so silly. I just had fun with it.

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yah. I want the reader to know that they made me happy, and that their words meant a lot. Also it’s a good exercise in beating the overwhelming shyness.

As a reader, I don’t generally expect it from others, because we all feel differently about these things and we all have different reasons for yes or no, but I’m always happy to see a response. Not judging when I don’t.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Maybe The Birth - KCD where the beginning of the game goes a little bit differently. Reminds me I have other chapters as WIP... oh well.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Now that I’ve been thinking about it, I think the Czech Dáreček is one of the happiest ones. Avengers fic.

Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the strangest one you’ve written?

Never tried it. I can barely keep up with a simple canon divergence.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Of course.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I couldn’t write smut to save my life.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Who knows? I don’t. 

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! (Still can’t believe it.)

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

It has been mostly at high school when we kept exchanging a notebook with my friend. The good old times of writing fics by hand.

It’s... not my thing, I think.

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Who can answer a question like this! All-time! There are too many. 

Uhhh, uhhhhh---

I’ll go with the oldest one. Never was like 100% into it, but it’s been a kind of a constant in my life, reappearing randomly. And in many versions. Sherlock Holmes/John Watson.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

There are, again, too many. I’d love to finish my series for Avengers, but since certain time, I just can’t get back to it. 

My super secret AC fic?? I am not sure, I know I won’t but I also know I would very much like to. 

What are your writing strengths?

I wouldn’t know. But I enjoy writing dialogue very much, hopefully it shows. And I do treat the characters with love, hopefully that shows as well.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I wish I had a more flowery way with words, to describe the beauty of the world.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

That really depends. I’d like to do it in a way that the reader can understand it even without the translation. As in, the character’s POV makes it clear, or the situation, whatever. I like it, but only in very specific circumstances, and done in a specific way. In other words - not interested in qué pasa just to see someone went through a Duolingo lecture. But I will always appreciate a character going for small daily words like thank you, yes, no, and others, in their first language. Or some of their favorite phrases in the other language. (Example - Hercule Poirot) (Catch me anytime going for “fair enough”, no matter which language I speak.) Maybe some prepositions, funny kind of messing up the language, yes.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

That was probably Naruto? The firstest first when I was a kid? I think. Other than that, I consider the first fandom (as in, I realized it was a fandom) Thor. 

But then again, I used to write for some books as well. Mice and Men and Pygmalion were among the first I remember. Hard to say now, really, but I was about the same age, I think.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

You know what, my favorite one is the one I’ve been writing for a year and never published a single word. It’s for a fandom I’ve always written in secret for, and never published anything, because it felt as “not my place”. But I’ve never been so dedicated to writing a monster of a fic fully before even thinking of publishing, and that’s saying something. I am very afraid that I will lose the fire and joy, but so far so good. 

Also, I am rather fond of the one I’ve been working on these days - it’s a new one for Kingdom Come Deliverance, and I’ve had it in WIP for over a year, so the excitement from finally getting on with it is making it beautiful in my eyes. (That’ll fade, but so far, I need to enjoy that.)

#tag #about #personal #fics #writing #rdr2 #kcd

[isidar-mithrim]

Tag game

Thank you for the tag @fightfortherightsofhouseelves and @clarensjoy!! 

Also, I’ll take this opportunity to apologize for all the tag-chain/game I ignored lately! I’m quite busy this period and while I do still check tumblr almost daily – especially now that I can’t wait for new @giblimort‘s amazing portraits *_* – it’s more like a few-minute scroll in the homepage and maybe read the occasional ficlet so I might miss the tags or more probably I might be lazy about answering them ^^’ But it always makes me smile that someone thought of me, so be aware that it’s appreciated and it makes my day lighter <3 @narukoibito @sybill-the-seer @ballerinaroy and I’m surely forgetting someone ^^’

Fandoms: Harry Potter, the one and only ;)

Where you post: Tumblr and Ao3, but I also have an account on the italian fan fiction page EFP (but my last stories are missing and most of the old ones that I’ve translated needs to be changed/edited, so I would kinda beg any passing italians to read them in English or ask me what version I would suggest XD). And one on Wattpad that I haven’t updated in a long while...

Most popular one-shot: Well I’m not sure what defines “popular” here, so I’ll kinda cheat and check the Ao3 stats I think for the first time ever and give you:

one for “most hits”: Fantasies [NSFW and basically Hinny PWP, so maybe I shouldn’t be surprised it’s the one with most hits XD]

one for “most kudos”: Standing on tiptoe [whoa, hadn’t seen it coming!]

one for “most bookmarks”: Letters for beyond (featuring the Potters)

one for “most comment threads”: so there are 4 with the same number, two of them are the two above, and between the remaining two I’ll pick A new beginning, a post-war chat between Harry and Neville ^^

Most popular multi-chapter: among my only two proper multi chapters, of which one is incomplete so far and with just 2 chapter and the other is complete with just 3 short chapter (what an achievement XD), Better than fireworks  is the one among all of my stories, including one shots, with “most bookmark”, “most subscriptions” (by far) and also “most comments threads”: [all this support is absolutely amazing, but I admit also kinda make me feel guilty because it’s almost been a year since I posted it and promised to finish it, ups ^^’ And the ironic thing is that I still plan too. One day. Maybe XD]

But I’ll also cheat a little bit again, naming a4 one-shots series, “Have a biscuit”. If you like Neville and McGonagall, I’ll be honored if you’d give it a try ^^

Favourite story written so far: Ahhh that’s a tough one, I tend to be quite fond of my stories (yay for the modesty, lol – I swear that when I’m not that thrilled I always admit it, though XD)... Let’s say “As though by a mother” but I might give a different answer in a week XD

Fic you were nervous to post: I’m not sure I’m never actually “nervous” before posting (more like, afraid that the story won’t appreciated as a I hope/that it won’t interest people), but I guess I must have been a bit nervous before posting my first ever pic translated in English, which also happens to have a not-so-usual writing style: And yet it tastes good

How you choose your titles: Ahhhh, good question. I guess it depends. Tbh I’m not that good at titles, or sometime I have a (supposedly) great one in Italian that doesn’t really translate (or isn’t that good) in English or viceversa. [Example: the “Have a biscuit” serie has English titles that I like way better than the italians, but a story like “Souls of Ink”, while having a good ring in English, to me it’s way more powerful and poetic in Italian, “Anime d’inchiostro”].

Sometimes I don’t have a title until the end and I kinda throw something there, sometimes I have the title from the very beginning and it could be a big part in inspiring the story. I tend to use title that are neither too short nor too long, and I don’t usually use songs quotes or the like. Plus, I’m very happy if the words/phrasing of the title recur literally or metaphorically in the story! I also try to match the “feeling” of the title (and the summary) with the “feeling” of the story. Like, I’d go for a more poetic/dramatic one for an angst story, and for a more comedic-like one for something more fluffy or silly.

Complete: Well, that’s easy, since I mostly stay away from multi-chapters XD (and for good reasons – see above XD) All my one shots, and most of my “closed” series, as in, series that I imagined with a beginning and an end or something like that (so, series like “Next Generation” don’t really have a complete/incomplete status) 

In progress: Again “Better than Fireworks”, and I’ve also just realised that I’ve yet to finish translating (despite being at a decent point) the second and last chapter of “Of Matilda, war and Peace” [speaking about being bad a title, lol XD] Ups ^^’

Coming soon/Not yet started: ahhh coming soon probably nothing, ehm, but I’ve at least 4 one shots in the making and that I want to finish one day (most of them started months if not a years ago... I’ll list them below), plus the draft for the rest of Better than Fireworks, plus several random missing-moments or AUs ideas and a long Hinny post-war story started few years ago in Italian (roughly 100.000 written) that needs to be heavily rewritten, translated and possibly finished ^^ Same for a shorter bit of a Jily seventh-year story, if we have to say it all...

“Ghost of the past”, a Hinny one shot from Ginny’s pov with a difficult conversation – I’m very fond of this one, but I have to work on the second part/end. The first/main part is finished and even betaed by the amazing @narukoibito! <3

“Of those who stayed”, a silver trio one shot – again from Ginny’s pov – during DH, when they try to steal the sword. I’ve the first (long) chapter done and again, even betaed by the wonderful @floreatcastellumposts but knowing myself I want to finish it first. I might decide that it’s okay like this (in Italian I’ve already posted it a one shot), but since I had a sort of sequel in mind for now it’ll stay in my drafts ;)

“The man who lived” – This one is all in just Italian so far (I’m rewriting an old piece – I’d probably restart it directly in English now); again Ginny’s pov (wow, hadn’t realised it!), again DH, this time since she (in my head canon) realise Harry might have gone to Voldemort during the battle, until the end of the battle

A one shot that’s it’s a series of Hinny snippets about James Sirius Potter coming to life (from the very start). Old one written in Italian and never posted, that a again needs to be finished. Same for a collection of snippets around Hinny’s wedding (but this is “draftier”)

A one shot of Harry and the Potters waling Teddy at King Cross; I’ve just a very little bit of it written + most of the draft, and it would be the sequel of the one shot “What parents would want”

The random Missing Moments that I’ve have in mind are: a conversation between Bill and Ginny in the hospital wing in HBP, plus maybe a bit more from Ginny’s pov in that period (like going back home from Hogwarts); a conversation between Bill and Ron in DH, not sure if during Ron’s first or second stay and Shell Cottage; Hermione finding out about Arthur’s attack; Dumbledore taking Slughorn’s memory (when it happened, how he found out... I’ve several head canon about it!)

The random AUs moments (and I say moments just because I wouldn’t really be interested in writing a whole story, I only imagine few moments of it): Hermione brining Harry at the Burrow at Christmas after Godric’s Hollow, with is locket attached to his chest (I think I stole the idea from Flo’s!); the trio finding Ginny in the cell in Malfoy Manor as well; and some dumb “Lily and James are resurrected post DH” trash XD Oh, also a real muggle AU with Harry as a self-defence coach and Ginny as trainee!

Do you accept prompts? As you can imagine especially in this period I’m not very good at commitment ^^’, but if you have a specific idea and want to give it a try (maybe during the winter holidays?) I’d be honored, if not able to make any promises!

Upcoming works you’re most excited about: definitely “Ghost of the past”!

I’m tagging @ballerinaroy again, @remedial-potions, @thedistantdusk, @thebiwholived and whoever wants to join ^^

EDIT: Ehm I got caught up with the stats when I wrote this and without realizing it I put a multi chapter in the “Most popular one shot” section, lol XD Problem fixed ;)

#tag game #I love doing it! #sorry if I've ignored most of the tag game so far #but it take me like an hour to do this so you can imagine why I have to step back from these kind of things usually XD #I get clearly caught up XD #draft list #wip list #drafts #wips #wip #work in progress

[madamewriterofwrongs]

Tagged by: @fyeahbuddie @tylerhunklin @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels @gracieli @oneawkwardcookie

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome work!

Like I said in another post, I don’t have favourites, exactly. I have fics that others enjoyed, fics I’m proud of, fics I wish more people had read, etc. I’ll try and talk about why I picked these five pieces.

Faith, Trust, and Magic (BBC Merlin - Merlin/Morgana) Chapter 3/? 5381 Words

A rewrite of episode 2x03 “The Nightmare Begins” where Merlin helps Morgana with her magic.

Technically, the first chapter of this series was written in 2018 but this year, I plotted the entire story and posted two more chapters. The concept is one I’m quite passionate about and I really want to finish it one day. Unlike the hilarious theory that barely anything would have to change in canon for Merlin and Arthur to be together, I believe everything would have been different if Merlin had helped Morgana when she was coming into her magic. This one decision would have changed the entire series. I want to give Morgana a happy ending.

Spark of Joy (9-1-1 - Buck & Maddie) Chapter 1/1 3076 Words

Firefam Christmas Party 2021 from the Buckley siblings’ perspectives.

This is one of my worst performing fics but rereading it (or thinking about it) makes me happy. It’s pure gentleness/contentment and especially at the beginning of my time in the 911 fandom, I was in love with the idea of letting the people of the 118 find peace in their lives. Give them a break! So I wrote this piece that was like a snapshot of how good life could be for the Buckley siblings and had these little sparks of hope for the future. Despite it’s low stats, I really enjoyed writing and reading this fic. It gives me the warm and fuzzies. 

Love Me Well (9-1-1 - Buck/Eddie) Chapter 1/1 2626 Words

Soulmate AU in which Eddie remembers but Buck meets him for the first time in every life. 

I don’t think I’ve ever done prompt fills before this year and this was one of my first ones. While I still prefer to use purely my imagination, I had fun trying to think of what @zeethebooknerd might enjoy within the world my brain was creating based on the prompt she gave me. This was also one of my first AUs (I love reading them but I never really wrote them before). A lot of firsts. On top of that, I got super soft and emo over the boys in my head, and let my inner hopelessly dramatic romantic out to play - something I started doing more of after this. 

Speaking of firsts.

Use Your Words (9-1-1 - Buck/Eddie) Chapter 1/1 4236 Words

Part 5 in the Show and Tell Series where Eddie gets out of his head while getting head.

Honestly, I really like the Show and Tell series and the more research/work I put into the entries, the more proud I feel about what I’m creating. Use Your Words was particularly difficult because I had never written smut before. I also have less than stellar sexual education, so I did a lot of research to make sure I was at least writing something anatomically correct. In the series, I introduced an Eddie that used sex as a way of avoiding intimacy in relationships but was working on opening up to his boyfriend. I also introduced an Eddie who was learning to ask for things that he wanted (in essence, he was allowing himself to be selfish). Combining the two made a lot of sense to me, so I decided to challenge myself as a writer and create this entry. 

Unashamed (9-1-1 - Buck/Eddie) Chapter 12/12 17178 Words

A series of married Buddie getting into awkward hi-jinx because they can’t stop flirting with each other.

I mean for one: I so rarely finish a series. In fact, this is the first time I finished a series in years so for that alone, I’m proud. I also managed to turn a 900 word crack-fic into a 12 chapter story so, again, yay. This was still a part of me ‘contentment’ obsession so there’s lots of happy things in there. I challenged myself to write the entire thing from an outside perspective which was really fun and created a lot of second-hand embarrassment. But there’s also a chapter about polyamorous acceptance, and queer love in the workplace, and dealing with rejection. I didn’t intend to put that much work into to it but I found it wasn’t really in me to just slap something together.

I’m cheating and picking a sixth. Sue me, Buck.

Finding Home (9-1-1 - Buck/Eddie) Chapter 1/1 1038 Words

Two boys lie in bed and one of them tells a love story.

I wrote this one on my phone in the middle of the night because it was just rolling around in my head and would not let me sleep. I don’t think it’s my strongest piece, and it wasn’t the first or last time I would have to pull out my phone in the middle of the night to write story notes that refused to leave me be. The reason I chose this one is because it marks a shift in my mind. Before this year (really, May 2020), I barely wrote. I wrote the @midweekupdate every week, I even completed NaNoWriMo with an original novel. But I was rarely inspired to just write. I didn’t have words and phrases plague me until I had to relinquish them upon the world. But that’s what this was. And it still happens every once in a while. Where I have things in my head that I just have to write (if you follow me, you might see midnight posts under the CJ Writes Things tag that make zero sense but sound kind of pretty). Writing this gave me hope that this thing I love isn’t gone even when I have dark periods. 

Tagging: @zeethebooknerd @elisela @softboiidiaz @oliverstark @rydergrace @florenceandthemachine @eddiediaz @fyeahbuddie @bellakitse @howtosingit @from-nova

#tagging things #cj writes things #2020 review

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 76

Whew!  Enormous Family Dinner is finally done!

This took 2 more chapters than I originally planned, but I feel that holds pretty true for any good conversation you have among your found family... it just never wants to stop!

As always, thank you to @satan-parisienne for being so very, very patient with my ‘hurry up and wait’ style of requesting feedback, especially while you haven’t felt the greatest.  You are far better at pointing out “yeah, but this makes sense to LITERALLY NO ONE ELSE” than anyone I will ever know.  Also, @baelpenrose for helping me nail some of the dialogue, along with keeping me on track with all the bits and bobs I try to include in a single chapter.  Between the two of you, I feel like a better writer every day.

To give an idea of how crazy this chapter was to write, content warnings include mentions of:

Food Painfully spicy food Witches (non specific) Burning witches (the fact it happened) Sex (non explicit) Drugs Paranoia Food aversions

To be clear, none of this occurs on screen with the exception of the foods.  But it is all referenced in the conversation within the chapter, so just in case I wanted to make sure to mention it here. I also tried to tag it all.

I managed to calm myself down while Conor and Maverick dragged Sam to get more food.  As I wiped the last of the tears from my eyes, Alistair was dutifully telling Arthur some of my more humorous antics.  The dry humor and deadpan delivery threatened to put a smile on my long-lost friend’s face.

“It was ginger tea, not green tea,” came Tyche’s voice and she snatched a curried-vegetable wellington out of my hand. Stuffing it in her face, she turned to the teacher-cum-warlord-cum-teacher. “If you ever do or say anything unpleasant to my sister, if you make her even the tiniest bit uncomfortable, I will end you,” she advised jovially.

“I can’t exactly return that threat,” he pointed out, nonplussed. “I probably know more about your reputation than anyone on this ship except Sophia, and I’m not brain-dead enough to think you’re going to hurt her.” He paused before clarifying. “Necessary kicks in the ass notwithstanding. Hey - “

“You have to earn that privilege, professor,” she interrupted.  Draping herself over a chair - there weren’t any arms, how was she doing that? - she turned to me. “I like Parvati.  Guerilla protest artist in the body of a goddess.”

“Fortunately, humanity progressed past a point where we burn witches at the stake,” Arthur rued in agreement.  “Otherwise, I’m pretty sure Ms. Fletcher wouldn’t have made it out of infancy.”

“Certainly no Refugee Guernica,” I agreed with a sigh.

Grey sat down and nodded a greeting before adding “I have come to burn your fields and steal all your women.”

“Our dear Councillor Kalloe certainly seems to worship at that altar,” Alistair commented before I could stop sputtering at the sudden show of humor.  His face was entirely innocent when our heads whipped around collectively. “What? There is not enough soundproofing in the several galaxies - “

A dark hand swatted at his face as Derek objected. “Not in front of the dumplings,” he signed before swatting at Alistair some more.

“As a former warlord, I feel like I should object to that,” Arthur directed at Grey. “I mean, I may have burned a few fields, but I never stole all the women…”

I sighed with feigned wistfulness. “I don’t think Parvati had to steal anyone.  They probably marched behind her happily, with desperately high hopes.”

Several nods exchanged around the table before Arthur cleared his throat. “Speaking of witches…” He glanced pointedly at Tyche. “I managed to find something from Earth already in the consoles, and I am well aware that Sophia is insane about spice.” More than I did, my sister immediately perked up. “This is something I got to try exactly once in the Before, and it’s definitely not for the faint of heart.”

“Berbere,” I murmured.  I could remember him telling me about it afterward.  It was the hottest thing he had eaten in his life, at least at the time.

He nodded in confirmation. “Exactly.  But, just a warning before anyone rushes off to try this: it isn’t just spicy in the Scoville sense, this is spicy in the Dune sense of the word.”

A few confused looks exchanged around the table.  I threw looks at both Tyche and Arthur asking for permission before explaining. “In the fiction series Dune, there is a drug that is only found naturally on a planet called Arrakis.  The drug is nootropic, anti-gerial, and mutagenic, primarily allowing for expanded consciousness, ability to understand fifth and sixth dimensional navigation, and in limited cases, ancestral memory. Although the actual name of the drug is melange, the common name is simply ‘spice’.”

Arthur mimed applause; he had heard me mention my tendency to spout information like a walking encyclopedia, but this was the first time he had seen it in person.

The confused looks cleared up slightly, but there were still more than I would have liked.  Grey gently raised a hand for attention. “And… You actually want to eat this?”

I nodded fervently, as did Tyche, although Arthur tilted his head back and forth. “I mean… I believe after the meal I… experienced… I used the phrase ‘what unholy fire did I just put into my body’, but hey. It was delicious, even if the experience was a little closer to fiery transcendence than was altogether comfortable.”

Tyche snorted. “Burning witches at the stake, you mean?”

Ahhh… that was why talking about Parvati made him think of berbere.

“Just don’t give it to Derek, I’m begging you,” he responded. “This is not the ‘understanding eyes of kindly folk who burned witches alive to save their souls’ kind of thing. This is more ‘being consumed in the unholy fire of the most delicious thing you can imagine and seeing the fabric of reality in the process’ kind of thing.” Shuddering dramatically, he glanced at Derek. “Something tells me you would try to hack reality, and we kind of need that to just keep working right now.”

A sudden expression crossed Tyche’s face that I could only describe as looking like the physical manifestation of a click-noise. “Transcendent… I’ve noticed several people on the Ark - and I mean easily over a hundred - acting strange lately.  This can’t be related, can it?”

My neck ached in sympathy for the way it would have snapped around, had I not been facing her already. “You’ve noticed it, too?”

Derek tapped the table emphatically, requesting our attention. “Noticed what?”

“People have been unusually antisocial,” Tyche clarified. “Instead of greeting strangers, they look at me skeptically when I say hi.”

I nodded in agreement. “Even people who were very casually friendly in the last year or so, suddenly just nod and duck away to whisper furtively. It would be one thing if I had done something that clearly had a negative impact on the crew, but… I mean, I even see people who are carrying portable habitats for Else eyeing me weirdly.”

If Arthur had cats’ ears, I swear they would have been pricked as far forward as possible - for someone who was suspicious as a default, he looked curious enough to die for the satisfaction of an answer. “How large are these groups? Have you noticed any frequent meetings? Do you ever see people from several groups interacting? Are they quieter when you - or any other outsiders, I guess - approach?  Is it always the same people?”

My head spun as I tried to parse out answers. The questions had come rapid-fire, and I realized abruptly that Arthur, for all our digital interaction in the Before, wasn’t used to my auditory processing issues.

Thankfully, our Knights of the Dinner Table arrived from a successful quest, laden with several plates of tidbits and small cups of hot soup.  Tyche and I glanced at each other, silently agreeing to suspend the discussion of odd behaviors, before I spoke. “Soup isn’t on the menu, guys.”

“Special request,” Sam insisted carefully. “We all like miso, and it helps digestion.”  Without waiting for approval, he took one bowl, scooped all the tofu out and added it to a second bowl, and handed the first bowl to Derek. “No mushy,” he promised sincerely.

I restrained the urge to gape.  Never had I seen Sam assert himself like that, and it honestly made me insanely happy to watch.  Looking around the table, I saw the slightest twitch of Grey’s mouth. “It is very healthy to be clear about what you want, and builds friendships when you do so for others.” 

So they were the culprit behind Sam coming out of his shell. Interesting. “Cheers to insurrection,” I murmured, toasting with my half-gone bloody mary.

“And soup,” Maverick added cheerfully as he accepted the cup with extra tofu.

Not even bothering with the spoon, Conor actually toasted with his soup before downing it in one swallow.  “Slainte.”

Thankfully, Tyche and Grey both took much more graceful sips from their small bowls. 

Quickly, I sent a message to Arthur to send his questions in writing so that I could answer them fully.  Derek also made quick gestures with his datapad, seemingly asking the same thing. 

Everyone ignored Derek slipping half his bao back on Sam’s plate.

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#the miys #humans are weird #found family #original scifi #original fiction #aliens #apocalypse #tw: food #tw: witches #tw: spicy food #tw: witch burning #tw: drugs #tw: paranoia

[porkchop-ao3]

A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 57)

Agent Wilson

This one’s a pretty long one, I hope it makes up for the week I missed. Just a warning for some mild sexual references, and there’s a little angst too. I hope you enjoy! Shit’s about to kick off lemme tell you :P

I really hope the formatting of this isn’t fucked up somehow. I’m having some computer problems and I don't have chrome installed right now so I’m using Microsoft edge, and it seems a little different when pasting this stuff in. Idk. Hopefully it’s fine. 

Tagging @emily-strange ❤

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

-

Our campsite was thankfully untouched after our short trip away, though there wasn't really much worth stealing anyway, besides an old tent. When we arrived back, Arthur immediately started cooking up some of the wolf meat for us, some generous slabs that he seasoned with oregano for a little more flavour. It smelled delicious, I hadn't noticed how hungry I'd become, and I was salivating long before it was ready to eat.

"You feeling a little better now that you've had a night away?" He asked me.

"My head feels clearer,” I nodded, "feel like I can breathe again. I'm not really looking forward to going back but I know we have to.”

"We'll be fine. It'll all have been forgotten about, just like when I kicked his teeth in."

"Do you think I should apologise, clear the air?" I asked. Arthur chuckled, then realised I was seriously asking.

"If it'd make you feel better, then– but that tells him that you were in the wrong, and he'll go 'round thinking that he can just get away with doing what he wants. Including touching you, which I ain't having. If you hadn't throttled him, I would've, and I certainly wouldn't've apologised," he said, spearing some cooked meat on a fork and handing it to me. I thanked him and blew on it to cool it.

"You're right. He shouldn't've touched me," I said.

"I'd say just steer clear. Don't let him pull you in, just ignore anything he says. He ain't worth it," he advised, and I let his words sink in. He was right.

"How long do you think we could get away with staying out here?" I asked. He glanced up at me from the fresh lump of meat he was cooking over the fire. He thought for a while.

"I think," he began slowly, then sighed, a guilty look appearing on his face, "I gotta see Dutch today. I promised Charles I'd go and speak to Rains Fall, but then I gotta meet a few people from Wapiti and Dutch. He's got something planned with Eagle Flies, wants me to be there."

"What's Dutch wanna do with him?" I questioned, then took a bite of meat.

"I… I don't know. It don't feel right; I got a feeling he's planning on using him and the situation his people're in as some kind of opportunity," he sighed. I frowned deeply. "It's an ugly business, I'm hoping I can help keep things from getting too out of hand."

"Out of hand, how?"

"Like if Eagle Flies and the others fight back hard enough, it might only land them in more trouble. Rains Fall can see that, but his son's a little hard to convince, apparently."

I nodded in recognition. "Charles told me a little of this while you were away, he was helping them back then. I feel like I should do something–"

"No. Not now Dutch has his hands on the situation, I don't want you near it. 'Sides, your leg ain't healed yet. I bet Susan'll have some words for both of us when we get back as it is," he was quick to respond. I exhaled and looked away. "But anyway, all this means I gotta head off soon."

My heart thumped. "What if I wanted to stay?"

Arthur's mouth opened but nothing came out for a few long moments. "Well, if you wanted to, I couldn't stop you."

I looked down and considered it as an option for a while, chewing and swallowing some more food before continuing. "We could ride back, then I'll pick up a few extra things from camp and come back here while you go and do what you've gotta do. Then I guess, if you wanna come here again when you're done, you can," I suggested. "But that's up to you. I just don't feel ready to go back yet."

"You'll be okay out here alone, with your injury? With the wolves?” He asked, not doubtful, but genuinely asking.

"I think so. I'll have my rifle, and I'll keep my wits about me," I told him, though my confidence did waver a bit at the mention of wolves, "maybe I'll even go and drop in on Mrs. Balfour tomorrow."

"Yeah?" He smiled a little.

"You think that'd be okay? Or should I– maybe she don't want to see me. You're the one who helped her, after all," I murmured, finishing off my food.

"I think she'd appreciate it," he nodded his head, biting into his own cooked meat and speaking only after he'd swallowed, "she ain't had a good time of it. She could use some kindness."

"I'm a little worried about her, not being able to hunt."

"We'll do something about that," he reassured me.

"You're a sweet man, Arthur. Ain't many men who'd help a woman like that, 'least not without wanting something in return," I said, and he shrugged dismissively. "I'm serious. You're a gem. You helped me get out safely that night in Blackwater. You helped Penelope get away with her love. And you're helping Charlotte. And Mrs. Downes–"

"Mrs. Downes wouldn't need help if it weren't for me, and Strauss' scams," he cut me off. I exhaled quietly.

"Don't, Arthur. You're always denying the good things people say about you," I shook my head. He kept his eyes on mine for a while, his mouth open a little, but he never spoke. "You're a gem," I repeated.

He didn't respond, but he exhaled something close to a laugh and a bashful smile appeared on his face. He continued eating his breakfast, finishing off the chunk of meat speared by his knife. When he was done he reached into his satchel and pulled out his journal, crossing his legs and flicking through the pages until he came upon a blank one. I watched him idly as he started jotting things down inside. Curiosity got the better of me.

"What're you writing about?" I asked him. He cleared his throat and made me wait a while before answering.

"About last night," he said. I thought back, mind filtering through our evening until it settled on what we'd done in his tent. I imagined myself pressed up against his back, my hand inside his union suit, pressing kisses to his neck and his shoulder as he hummed out quiet moans, the slick sound of my hand on him just barely audible. My face flushed warm.

"About what I…" I trailed off. His face was blank for a moment, then he laughed at the realisation.

"No, not that," he said. "Just about what happened with Micah, how we came out here. How nice it was to be alone again, you know, I always miss this when we're back at camp," he elaborated, looking up at me.

"Yeah me too," I nodded.

"I will come back here after I've done what I've gotta do. We'll spend another night here together, at least."

"That makes me happy," I beamed, shuffling close to him and hugging his arm, leaning my head on his shoulder. Arthur went back to writing, I didn't read what he put but I was touched that he didn't mind that I was so close while he wrote. But I did glance down as he started flicking back through the book; I just wanted to see more of his lovely drawings. One page caught my eye; it was full of drawings of birds, but none like I'd seen in person before, only in artwork. They looked exotic. I stopped him on that page, and enquired about them.

"These were in Guarma. When I came back, I wrote down everything I remembered. Drew some things too," he explained. "The whole island was full of parrots. Brightest coloured feathers I ever saw, these drawings don't do 'em justice."

"Well, I think they're beautiful, even without the colour," I told him, leaning closer to inspect his sketches. A whole spread of them, some close ups of their heads, others of them taking flight, they were all lovely. I was glad to see that something nice had come out of the whole ordeal. "You haven't spoken much about Guarma," I said gingerly.

Arthur nodded, and he was still for a moment.

"It weren't easy talking about it when I first got back," he admitted. I was careful with how I phrased my next question, not wanting to pressure him.

"If you ever wanted to talk about it, you know I'm here, right?"

"Yeah, I know. Just felt like too much to go into. None of it was nice, I don't want you getting upset about it," he revealed. My lips parted silently, and it took me some time to know what to say.

"I know you're alive and you're okay. So, I couldn't get too upset now," I said.

"I don't remember much from the first day or two," he said, "but I think they're easier to talk about."

"Yeah?" I shifted, sitting upright so I could look at him.

"The boat went down in the night. We were all sleeping and suddenly we had to get up, the sea was so choppy; we was getting thrown around like ragdolls. Anyway, we got split up. Dutch and the others got out on a boat, but I… didn't," he began. I frowned deeply at the revelation but let him carry on. "That's when things get hazy. I know I went into the water but I don't know nothing about how I lived long enough to wash up on that island,

"Nor do I remember much about what I did when I got there. Think I just walked, looking for people. Eventually I saw smoke and I followed it; that's how I regrouped with the others. But we got captured soon after that. Javier got shot, we went off with some feller, weren't from Guarma. Hercule, his name was. And that's– that's when–"

Arthur stopped and he was frowning. I reached over and squeezed his knee.

"Well, I said I'd help with some situation the workers on the island was in. Reckon I got shot by a tranquilizer dart, woke up to getting the shit smacked out of me by some angry feller," he shook his head. "Anyway, we all ended up helping Hercule with some things, he was getting us a boat off the island."

"What sort of things?"

Arthur shook his head and exhaled audibly, "fighting against Fussar, the man who was in charge. He was at the party at the mayor's house, believe it or not. Maybe you saw him, he was the one with all the medals and whatnot," he gestured to his chest and I thought back. I had vague recollections of such a man, but I hadn't paid much attention at the time.

"Yeah, I think," I nodded.

"Dutch and I saved Javier from where him and his army were keeping him, then, to cut a long story short, I killed him. He knew who we was and weren't letting us off the island, so he had to go. Though my sense is the world will be a better place without him, anyway."

"And then you came back?"

"And then we came back," he nodded. He sighed heavily, then met my eyes. "That's about it, summed up. I also blew up a warship with a cannon, watched Dutch strangle an old lady to death, and saw way more of Micah's pot-belly than I ever needed to. So yeah, it weren't a nice trip, and every day I just wanted to be back home."

I couldn't even laugh at the slice of humour Arthur tried to bring in about Micah's stomach. I reached for him, squeezing his upper arm and stroking it comfortingly.

"That's a lot to go through," I whispered. He stared at me for a moment, his eyes widened slightly, mouth parted a little. He looked stunned. Sad. Like he was realising that yes, it was a lot to go through. Then he exhaled sharply and looked away.

"Well, least I got to see a tropical island. Probably never would've seen anything like it otherwise, never mind what Dutch says about us all being mango farmers," it was a poor attempt at finding a silver lining, just like my thoughts about Arthur's beautiful drawings. I didn't take away from it, though.

"Yeah, at least there's that," I leaned over and kissed his shoulder.

"Dare I say it might've been quite nice if I'd gone there on purpose, and you were there too, and there weren't no Fussar bullshit to deal with," he breathed a laugh. "Even so, ain't thinking of going back."

"I'm content with Blackwater being the most exotic and far out place I've ever visited," I chuckled, and he joined me.

"Anyway, I better get going. Shall we pack up? We'll do like you said, head back and I'll get Jet, then you can come back here with some fresh clothes and some more food. We've even got some pelts for Pearson so he can't whine too much about his helper leaving with a few cans of vegetables."

"Sure, though I feel a little bad now you put it like that," I murmured.

"Don't. I damn well paid for most of it anyway," he told me with a bitter, annoyed edge to his voice that almost made me smile because it seemed to me, if only for a second, Arthur was accepting all he did for the gang. And how sometimes, it wasn't fair.

"Is there anything I can do for you, lighten the load a little?"

"No–" he began automatically, then paused. "Actually, I got some stuff needs selling to a fence, jewellery and the like. John told me all those months ago that you was good with bartering with the trapper, maybe a clever, pretty lady like you'll get a better deal than me."

"I'll give it my best shot," I grinned.

We got moving, deconstructing our little camp and putting out the fire. We rode back to Beaver Hollow, and when we hitched Rayna up with the other horses, Arthur stopped to kiss me once before telling me where he was keeping the jewellery, and asking me to be discreet when I retrieved it. He headed straight off, telling me to be safe and promising to return to me later on at Brandywine Drop. I watched him ride off on his own horse before walking into camp.

My heart was pounding. I scanned the place, seeing people glance up from what they were doing to look at me. They didn't stare or say anything, and I quickly realised that things were just as Arthur had assured me; people had pretty much forgotten about my outburst and weren't at all bothered. But then again, Micah wasn't around, and I did wonder if he would have something to say next time we crossed paths.

I went straight to Pearson's wagon, finding the man himself sitting behind it smoking a cigarette. He seemed pretty down most days, quiet and morose but irritable when bothered. I trod carefully when I approached him.

"Morning, Mr. Pearson," I said. He lifted his head, addressing me with a mildly surprised gaze.

"Ahh, there she is. Thought you weren't coming back, the way you left yesterday," he chuckled.

"Mm, not my finest hour," I sighed leaning up against the wagon and pressing my boot against a stone on the ground, pressing it into the mud. "Being stuck at camp, doing nothing, maybe I went a little stir crazy."

"You feeling better now?" He asked. I pursed my lips and met his eyes.

"A little," I said. "I uh, I'm gonna spend another day away from camp. Arthur and I are sleeping up at Brandywine Drop."

His brows raised a little, "oh, okay. You want me to tell Dutch when he gets back–"

"No. You needn't say anything to anyone. I just thought it'd be a good idea for someone to know where we are," I shrugged. "Mind if I steal a little food?"

He sighed, but waved a hand towards the wagon.

"Thank you," I smiled at him sweetly and he chuckled, shaking his head at me.

I rounded the wagon and gathered a couple of things; some canned sweetcorn, biscuits, ground coffee and some strawberries for something sweet. We wouldn't need a lot of food, we still had plenty of meat left from the wolves and I knew I could forage some carrots and berries around the river as well if need be.

"By the way, I have some meat and some pelts for you," I called to Pearson. I heard him shuffle and grunt as he pushed himself to his feet and rounded the wagon to join me. "Three wolf pelts. There's some meat wrapped up in the saddlebag, on Rayna."

"Thank god," he breathed, and started heading towards the horses, "was starting to think we'd have to start eating each other."

"Just leave enough for me and Arthur," I called to him, slipping away the supplies in my satchel and then heading across the camp to our tent.

I pulled some fresh clothes from my suitcase, laying them out on the bed, then bent down to Arthur's own chest. I retrieved some clothes for him too, placed them with mine, then reached right to the bottom of his chest until I felt the drawstring bag he'd mentioned to me. I discreetly pulled it out and placed it on top of our clothes, rolling it up to create a nice little bundle that would fit into my saddlebag.

"Are you leaving?" John asked, calling out from his place at the campfire.

"Yeah," I answered simply.

"Shit, does Arthur know?" He exclaimed, getting up and coming over. I looked at him with a mild frown.

"Arthur's coming with me," I told him. He stared with his mouth hanging open, and I was so confused until I replayed the conversation in my head and realised what he thought I meant. "Oh, we're not leaving leaving, for good. Just another night."

"Oh, right," he exhaled, a hand smacking to his chest. He blew through his pursed lips and chuckled. "Had me worried for a second."

"Don't worry, if we leave we'll be sure to drag you kicking and screaming, too," I said, half joking.

"Right," he laughed, shaking his head. "Anyway, how'd it feel to have your hands round Micah's neck?"

"They weren't there long enough to really take notice," I sighed, tucking the bundle of clothes under my arm. "I couldn't say."

"You could try, sure would be nice to find out," he smirked. I rolled my eyes with a sigh.

"Where is he anyway?" I asked.

John glanced around. "I don't know. Probably out there terrorising some poor innocent folk."

"How's he been? I mean, has he said much about what happened?"

"Not really. Everything kind of just went back to normal once you and Arthur left, you know how it is."

"Good," I nodded. "And Dutch?"

"Dutch," he scoffed, "he still ain't speaking to me, much. Not like I really want him to."

"I wonder who he hates more, you or me," I snorted. "Anyway, I gotta go. Have an errand to run, then I'm heading back out for another night. Just need time away, try and pull myself together."

"You okay on your own?"

"Course," I smiled, "Arthur said he'd join me later on, he's got plenty to do today."

"Well, you just take care, alright?" He patted my arm. "If anything happened to you, Morgan would be hell to live with."

I breathed a laugh and shook my head at him. I wrapped my free arm around his shoulders and pulled him in for a hug. He made a surprised grunt, but returned my hug quickly, if a little awkwardly.

"John, I'm… I'm real glad I met you," I whispered.

"Yeah, me too, Miss," he replied quietly, almost shyly, patting my back before releasing me. I stepped back and looked up at him. The little smile he wore made me chuckle, it was clear he wasn't used to much friendly affection.

"I'll see you later," I told him, then ducked out from under the cover of the tent.

"Sure," he nodded, watching me go.

-

I hitched Rayna up outside the saloon in Van Horn, figuring I could go for a short drink after selling the jewellery. I dug the drawstring bag of treasure out of my saddlebag, tucking it into my satchel before feeding Rayna an apple.

"Won't be long, baby," I whispered to her, patting her neck.

I headed along the path towards the edge of Van Horn, taking a breath and becoming reacquainted with the place after such a long time. It looked even more run down than the last time I'd visited, and I almost couldn't believe that I used to like the place. It still had that weird, out of the way, different feel to it, which I guess was part of its charm. It was a real unique place.

I reached the end of the wooden boardwalk where the fence was situated, and entered. I was greeted by a thick Scottish accent.

"Hello there," he said, his tone cheery.

"Hey, mister. How you doing today?" I asked, giving him a big smile.

"Not too bad, yourself? That's a nasty limp you've got," he noted, nodding towards my leg. I might've hammed it up a bit on my way in, in a bid to appeal to his sympathetic side.

"Oh, I got burned," I told him a little breathlessly. That was genuine; I was surprised how much energy it took to move around when I was conscious of my injury. "But I'm… I'm fine."

"You sure? You need help with that bag?" He nodded towards the canvas drawstring tucked under my arm, and I shook my head.

"I got it. It's actually what I came to show you; got some things to sell," I told him, putting the bag down on the counter, hearing the clink of its contents. I pulled open the drawstring and reached inside, not even fully aware what was in there, just that Arthur had collected it all over the past few months and hadn't had the chance to sell it before the Guarma situation. Penelope's bracelet was somewhere inside; her reward for all of his help.

I pulled out the first thing my hand touched; a smaller bag. It was filled with assorted rings, earrings, pearls.

"I usually buy bundles like that for fifty," the fence told me, "I don't have time to go through the whole lot and value individually."

"Sure, okay, but just for this little bag. There's more in here, some is worth far more than that," I told him, getting my insistence in early, making sure he knew I wasn't going to accept pittance. I flipped the bigger canvas bag and gently emptied it onto the counter.

Inside, I counted seven gold rings, a pocket watch, a necklace that appeared to be platinum, a sapphire encrusted bracelet that I guessed was Penelope's…And rather disturbingly, a gold tooth. The fence inspected the lot, checking for markings, its condition. He picked up Penelope's bracelet, scrutinising it more closely, watching the light dance within the stunning blue stones.

"This is really nice. I won't ask how you acquired it," he said, and I had to chuckle considering it was probably the most honestly acquired of the bunch. He never said a word about the tooth. "I'll give you seventy-five for the bracelet. The other stuff… one hundred."

"A hundred and seventy-five for the whole lot? But this is platinum. And the pocket watch and all the rest of it is gold. You can do a little better than that, sir. That bracelet's gotta be worth a hundred on its own," I raised my brows at him. He met my eyes over the bracelet and chuckled.

"I can do one-eight-five," he offered. I pursed my lips, clasping my hands together and tilting my head at him. He laughed again, shaking his head at me. He put the bracelet down and stared at the lot.

"You can do two-hundred. You know you can," I said cheekily. He blew a jet of air between his lips, brows jumping. "Pretty please?"

"You're gonna try sweet-talking me, Miss?" He accused, humoured.

"What do you say? A tidy two-hundred?" I offered my hand out. He considered, looking at my outstretched hand.

"Two-hundred…" he muttered, then roughly took my hand, shaking it once.

"Yes! Thank you, sir!" I cheered, clapping my hands together.

"Since you're so polite," he murmured, turning to his register and opening it up. He counted out the money and handed it over. I tucked it away in the bottom of my bag, and was as aware of it as I was the revolver at my hip.

"Much appreciated, you take care, now," I nodded at him, spinning on my heel and heading out before he had the chance to change his mind.

"You too, madam, watch that leg," he called, and I smiled over my shoulder at him.

I took a deep breath of the salty air, smiling on the sharp exhale, and started heading back up the boardwalk towards dry land. I headed for the saloon, where Rayna was still hitched. I gave her a rub on the neck before stepping up onto the deck and entering the saloon. I glanced around once I was inside; spotting a mix of characters. Mostly drunk locals lounging about the place, a couple of women, and some more sharply dressed men at the back of the room. I took a spot at the bar, leaning my elbows on it and greeting the lady serving.

"Can I get a beer, please?" I asked, sliding a coin across the bar. She cracked open the cap of a bottle and placed it in front of me, "thanks," I added.

I took a first sip, sighing out at the quiet moment in the saloon. Well, it wasn't quiet, the place was full of chatter and noise, but quiet in the sense that it was normal. I was just sitting at a bar, having a drink, on my own. Something I hadn't done since before I joined the Van Der Linde gang. Not that for a second I missed this kind of life, not once Arthur and I grew close, but it was a nice if not strange reprieve from my new reality.

"Whiskey, please, ma'am," one of the well dressed men from the back of the room appeared beside me. He was quiet while he waited for his drink, but I sensed him looking at me. I wasn't in the mood to speak to anyone, so I kept my eyes on my beer.

"Here you go, officer," the barmaid said as she handed him his drink, and my heart thumped.

"You just come in, Miss?" He asked, and I knew he was speaking to me. I lifted my head. The gentleman was raven-haired and had skin so pale it was almost sickly, a pair of waxy, dull grey eyes and a large mole on his cheek. He wore a clean suit and his hair bore the flattened style of someone who wore a hat until sitting down at a table.

"Uh, yeah. Couple minutes ago," I nodded, then averted my eyes.

"My colleagues and I did the rounds already; we're asking folks around here a few questions. There's been a criminal gang pass through these parts," he said. My lips parted and my eyes widened, a gasp sucking in without my permission. "You alright, Miss?"

"Is… is it safe to be here?" I asked, straightening up and looking around anxiously.

He breathed a laugh and smiled reassuringly. "Me and those fellers back there," he turned and glanced their way, and I followed his gaze. "We're with the Pinkerton Detective Agency. It's our job to keep people safe, while we're around, you ain't got nothing to worry about."

"Well, that sure is a relief," I exhaled, hoping my nerves wouldn't seem suspicious, given the circumstance.

"We're here mostly to ensure the people of Van Horn remain vigilant while these people are in the area, and also to make them aware that there's people they can report to should they notice anything odd," he continued, taking a sip of whiskey with his pause, "are you aware of the Van Der Linde gang, Miss?"

"Well, sure, I've read the name in the papers. I try not to get too caught up in it, however, frays my nerves," I told him. "But it's never been so close to home before," I shook my head.

"We understand that the gang's leader and four other men passed through here when they arrived back in the country via boat. They were in the state of Lemoyne for some time, and after a raid of their settlement they… they escaped capture and we believe they headed up this way. We're patrolling the area, but we're asking that people sound the alarm if they spot any of the people we're looking for. I have some photographs," he told me, reaching into his inner jacket pocket.

"You do?" I murmured quietly, looking at him through the corner of my eye as I sipped my beer– well, pretended to. I couldn't trust myself to swallow it without choking while I was so tense.

The Pinkerton placed a pile of small photographs in front of me. On the top of the stack, was Dutch.

"These men do not make up the entirety of the gang, there is a group of more than twenty men, women… and children," he sighed, then tapped on Dutch's face, "all following Dutch Van Der Linde."

"More than twenty? That's a big group. And you ain't managed to track 'em down yet?" I cocked a brow at him.

He chuckled at my criticism, droning some excuses while I ceased to listen, picking up the photographs and shuffling through them. They were all mugshots; Javier, Bill, John, Charles… of course, Arthur. I stared at his photo, his straight, unhappy face, his cold, level gaze, his strong jaw and lips pressed tight together in a threatening line. He was him, but so different to the version of him I was familiar with. This was the way they saw him.

"Do you recognise this man?" The Pinkerton's words pulled me out of my head and I met his eyes. My lips parted but I struggled to find something to say.

"No, he's just–" I stammered, looking back at the photo, "I realise it may be inappropriate given what a terrible man he is, but I can't help but notice what a handsome face he has," I breathed a laugh.

He hummed, polite but with distaste. He took the photos back and put them away in his pocket. "You're not the first woman to have made such comments. I would've hoped they'd have more sense, or better taste."

Something flickered in me. A twinge of possession. It reared its ugly head now and again and each time I battered it into submission.

"He's probably awful, though. A pretty face means nothing, then," I said, the corner of my lip curling up. I was suddenly having a little fun talking to the enemy, while he had absolutely no idea who I was. "I couldn't imagine how awful it'd be to be courted by such a man. To run with that gang. All those awful, heartless men," I tutted.

"This is the sort of poison we're trying to save America from. These outlaws, they– they tarnish this land. Take all that is pure and stain it with the blood of the innocent, and all the while do it with an entitled sense of invincibility as if they are free from all consequence. How they live like that and still sleep at night is beyond me."

"Beyond me," I agreed, nodding slowly. "It's terrible."

"We have had small victories, however. A member of the Van Der Linde gang was shot dead in the streets of Saint Denis last month; Hosea Matthews," he told me. My stomach turned and I looked at him, trying not to let him anger me. "I was told the others watched it, he died right in front of them," his mean laugh made me want to knock his block off.

"That so?" I hummed.

"They said the look on Van Der Linde's face was better than any paycheck," his teeth practically shone with his grin and I looked at them, wondering what it'd be like to see him picking them up off the floor. I would never try it, of course.

"Well, Mr…” I began, offering my hand to him.

"Mr. Wilson," he took my hand and shook it.

"It's been a pleasure talking with you, but I must get going," I said.

"Of course. And it's been a pleasure talking to you too, Miss…" he replied, and I didn't answer his prompt to give him my name. Not even my alias. I just took my beer and walked out the door.

I paused for a moment outside, bringing the bottle to my lips and gulping down the last of it, tossing the empty bottle aside carelessly before striding over to Rayna and mounting her, side-saddle. I clicked at her, turning her away from the hitching post and onto the road, away from the agents.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #fanfiction #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #atink #reader insert #rdr2 fanfic

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 119

Chapter Summary - Tom and Danielle go house hunting.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

All image rights belong to their owners

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​ @jessibelle-nerdy-mum​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @damalseer​ @hiddlesbitch1​ @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly​ @salempoe​ @wolfsmom1​

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

‘What do you think?’ Tom asked as they pulled up to the house.

‘It’s a bit….big. What are we planning, a hundred and one dogs?’ Danielle looked at it. ‘It’s a bit fancy.’

‘Why not get something fancy if we are planning a home at all?’ Tom challenged.

‘Because I don’t want to have mortgage repayments of ten thousand pounds a month I suppose.’ Danielle commented in a bedpan tone. ‘I cannot afford to look at houses like this, Tom.’ She indicated to the house, how much is this even going for?’

‘Just shy of two.’

‘Two what?’ Tom did not look at her. ‘Million? Two million? Tom, what the hell are you thinking?’ She looked at him in shock.

‘That overall, this is a good house, it is big.’

‘I can see that.’ She looked at it again.

‘The front of it is like your parents.’ He pointed out. Danielle had to agree with him, it did. ‘Just look at it, please.’

‘Tom, I think it goes without saying, I cannot afford this.’ She stated. ‘I can’t.’

‘Please Elle, just take a look, we’ll talk more about that in a while.’

Danielle chewed her lip. ‘This is madness.’ she shook her head. ‘What made you even look at this?’

‘I want us to have a nice home.’

‘Nice does not have to equate to two fucking million.’ Danielle pointed out.

‘No, it doesn’t. It doesn’t mean it can’t either.’

‘Madness.’ Danielle shook her head as she got out of the car as the estate agent walked towards them.

Tom got out too and smiled. ‘Good afternoon, sorry for the delay.’

‘Not at all, was the drive out okay?’ He shook Tom’s hand. ‘Arthur Shrewsbury, by the way.’

‘Tom, and this is Danielle.’ He indicated to Danielle who had come up beside him, the estate agent shaking her hand too as she politely smiled at him. ‘The drive out was fine, bar the obvious delay we contacted you about.’ He smiled.

‘Well, let’s not delay any longer, I am sure you have a few places you wish to look at in the area, and we have a bit to go through here. It is a considerable 6,500 square foot property, and includes a car garage, several converted outhouses, a tennis court and a swimming pool.’ Tom refused to look at Danielle as she stared at him in disbelief. ‘It boasts six bedrooms, two studies, a living room, a dining room and a kitchen which of course, comes with all modern conveniences, but maintains a more classic look. It is, I should mention, a building that holds a Grade II restriction and cannot be altered externally in a manner that removes from the original design. That said, the roof does have solar panelling, though it is in accordance with the rules regarding its status.’

‘Wonderful.’ Tom smiled as he placed his hand on Danielle’s lower back, urging her inside.

Danielle, though slightly bothered, had to admit that the house was utterly divine. The house was beautifully done, beams exposed and airy. She could not believe the space it possessed as well as soon beautiful furniture.

‘What do you think?’ Tom asked, his eyes bright when the estate agent had left them to look around.

‘Six bedrooms? What would we ever need six bedrooms for?’

‘Mum, Sarah and Yakov, you and me, Emma and Jack, the Duchess, that is five rooms, Emma and Jack will probably have kids, not to mention, we might….’ He looked at her somewhat coyly, not wanting to make her feel like he was pressurizing her.

‘Planning for every eventuality?’ She smiled. ‘It’s huge, and so far from the city.’

‘I consider it a healthy distance from it.’ Danielle made a head gesture in agreement. ‘We don’t have to say yes, but I want us to look at homes like this.’

‘It is ridiculously expensive.’ Danielle commented. ‘I cannot afford half of this.’

‘Elle,’ Tom placed his arms around her. ‘Please, I know you are a very independent and proud woman, it is part of the reason I love you so much, you are strong, but if the reason we cannot get the perfect home for us, and I am not saying this is it, but in general, is because of your current income, I am going to insist on stepping in, because I can afford it, and I want us to be able to have exactly what we want, I think that if we are talking about making a home, it needs to be right.’

‘I would argue more, but considering the Ben and Sophie Hampstead debacle.’

‘Don’t even mention it. Honestly, it is over two years and they are still not in, he is withdrawing the application.’ Tom informed her.

Danielle looked out the window at the multitude of other buildings on the property. ‘That would not be an issue here.’

‘Definitely not.’

‘It’s too much, Tom. How would we ever even keep it clean?’

‘We’d need a cleaner.’ Tom agreed.

‘And a gardener.’ Danielle looked at the sheer amount of green area. ‘It’s a bit mad.’

The pair walked around the house more. When they came to the bedrooms, they stood in awe at the master bedroom. ‘Wow.’ Tom looked around the spacious room and en-suite. ‘This is bigger than I was expecting.’

‘That’s a bit of an understatement.’ Danielle agreed, looking around her. ‘It’s not very “farmhouse” here, is it?’

‘No.’ Tom opened a door. ‘I found a closet.’

‘I found another….wait this is….what is this?’

‘The nursery.’ Tom informed her, looking at the booklet in his hand. ‘It is smaller and off the main bedroom to ensure peace and tranquillity for any infants.’

‘Or a good room for people with weird sexual fetishes.’ Danielle stated calmly before looking at Tom and the pair laughed.

‘That too, I suppose.’ He grinned.

‘I love the name, by the way. Compton Bassett. This is not very Compton. Not the one N.W.A.rapped about anyway.’

Tom laughed again. ‘This is possibly the furthest thing from that Compton you could imagine.’

They looked around some more and assessed the house. ‘It is lovely.’

‘So you would consider it?’ Danielle made a non-committal noise. ‘What is bothering you, other than the price?’

‘The location from London, it is two hours each way, that is a serious amount of driving, I could go Dublin to Galway in two hours.’ She pointed out. ‘Also, I need to ask, but what is with a tennis court for one, we won’t be holding Wimbleton here next summer, and why, for the love of the divine Jesus, is there an outdoor pool, it is East England, it pisses rain three hundred and sixty days a year, the other five is a light mist. That is just madness to me.’

Tom laughed at her Irish turn of phrase and blatant exasperation at the idea of an outdoor swimming pool. ‘Think of the fun we could have in it?’ He winked at her.

‘What fun, your balls would ascend into your torso as a new pair of ovaries, the average temperature around here in summer is mid teens for fucks sake.’

He kissed her. ‘But is it along the lines of what you would like?’

‘I am a country mouse, I would be happy here, there is so much space, it is how I would want it if we have kids. Bobby and Mac would love it too, though I would insist on having some method of stopping them being able to get off the property, farmers tend to have a “shoot to kill” policy on wandering dogs near livestock.’

Tom paled as he looked at her in shock. ‘What?’

‘Farmers shoot straying dogs. You didn’t know this?’ Tom shook his head in horror. ‘Straying dogs chase livestock and can kill several ewes and lambs in a matter of minutes. It is legal for a farmer to shoot on sight, and rightly so. Honestly, people who don’t take control of their dogs need to stop this bullshit of “my dog is a sweetheart” I have seen the result of a “sweet” labrador left to its own devices, fourteen dead pregnant ewes, and several more wounded or with aborted lambs, two and a half thousand pounds old Irish money, that is about the same as here, maybe a little less, it was not pretty. The farmer was forced to sell a field as a result.’ She shook her head. ‘Dog was dead too, and it wasn’t a nice one, dad got him in, two rounds, but he was bleeding too badly, he suffered for about an hour after the shooting, so there were no winners. I don’t want that for our boys, they will be penned off outside or with us and no way to get into the farmland.’ She stated factually.

‘Yes, definitely.’ Tom agreed, shaken by what she had told him.

Seeing that he was still bothered, she put her hand in his and kissed him. ‘Did I upset you?’

‘No...I….I am not as strong stomached as you are.’

‘You never saw an animal give birth, did you?’ He grimaced and shook his head. ‘Oh boy, you need to toughen up. If they make a film adaptation of “All Creatures Great and Small” consider giving it a miss as a character. You shoving your hand up a mare to help pull out a foal would not do you any favours.’

‘Have you….?’

‘Shoved my hand up a cows or horses vagina, yes, several times. It’s all well and good until she shits on you.’

‘Jesus Christ.’ Tom felt nauseous.

‘Town mouse.’ Danielle laughed in return.

#I Hate You I Love You #chapter 119 #wolfpawn #tom hiddleston #Tom hiddleston fic

[lucacangettathisass]

how the light gets in (ch. 8)

SUMMARY: After your home is ransacked by a group of strange men, you and your cousin are taken in by a group of outlaws. And that’s when the trouble really starts.

PAIRINGS: John Marston x Fem!Reader, Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader

ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE, SIX, SEVEN

TAGGING: @mountainhymn if you would like to be added to the tag list just lmk!

NOTES: so sorry for the slow update! ive been doing some full on hours at work (my manager literally told me that im doing full time hours despite being part time lmao rip) so that’s been leaving me a little drained lmao but hey at least we got there!

more mentions of low self esteem, those are gonna be a lot more prevalent from here on out actually.

on another note, i’ve been wondering if i should rewrite this as an oc fic rather than a reader one. thoughts? i might not even do it, but im curious to hear what you guys think.

anyways, hope you all enjoy! and dont forget, likes are nice but reblogs are what motivate creators the most!

p.s. pls check out waking up slow by mountainhymn!!!! it is so wonderful im still crying

“Well, it really all started with my momma.” You felt yourself begin to fidget and made an effort to stand completely still. “She got a job working for a wealthy Russian widow, Mrs Zamolodchikova.”

Mr Morgan let out a low whistle. “Now that’s a name.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “A lot of Russian names are like that. As I was saying, she hired my momma to be a maid when I was still very young. Mrs Zamolodchikova treated us very well, we even lived in a little cottage she had on her land.”

Despite all the years that had passed, you still thought of that cottage fondly. It had been small and not impressive by any means, but it had been your home for most of your childhood. You had a lot of good memories of it.

“I...I lost my momma when I was seven.” Even now, twelve years later, it hurt to say. Your mother had been your whole world, everything began and ended with her, and it had never once occurred to you when you were a child, that you would one day have to face the world without her. She loved you too much to do that to you. And then it happened anyway.

You had never experienced a heart break like it before, or since.

“I’m very sorry to hear that.” Mr Matthews said gently.

“It’s alright.” You assured him, trying to speak around the lump that always formed in your throat whenever you thought about losing your mother. “She had been ill for as long as I could remember, it was only a matter of time.”

“I imagine your aunt and uncle took you in?”

“They wanted to, but Mrs Zamolodchikova stepped in. She said that she saw it as her Christian duty to take me in as a ward, and that’s what I became.” It had stunned you at the time to learn that Mrs Zamolodchikova cared for you that much. You would always be grateful for her kindness, it had changed your life. “She had no children of her own, so I think she wanted me to fill that gap.”

“That was very kind of her.” Mr Matthews sounded surprised, and you supposed that it made sense. You couldn’t imagine that he had come across many people willing to take in the child of an employee, particularly among the rich. You certainly had never seen such a thing in your time among them.

You nodded in agreement. “She taught me etiquette and how to behave in upper class circles, and as I got older I became her companion. That was how I met Mr Cornwall.”

A spark appeared in Mr Van Der Linde’s eyes, and you knew that you really had his full interest now. “How did that come about?”

“He was looking for investors in his business, he was just starting out you see, and he needed some capital.”

“So he went to Mrs Zamolodchikova?” Mr Van Der Linde asked. “She must’ve been rather rich.”

“Exceedingly so.” You said. “Her family is very old Russian money, and when she came to America with her husband, her wealth only grew, even after he died. I imagine Mr Cornwall thought that if he could convince her to invest, he would have an easy time of building his empire.”

“Did he?” Mr Van Der Linde’s eyes sparkled with a kind of devious curiosity, the kind most often found in children. “Convince her to invest that is.”

“I’m afraid not. Mrs Zamolodchikova found him rather...disagreeable.” A part of you still cringed on the inside just thinking about that meeting. It had started off well, and Mr Cornwall had certainly been polite enough, but once his true character came out, it all started to go downhill rather rapidly.

“In what way?”

You hesitated slightly. “Well, I mean, one doesn’t wish to disparage others when they don’t have the opportunity to defend themselves.”

A chuckle came from Mr Van Der Linde, and you even saw a corner of Mr Morgan’s mouth twitch.

“We just want your honest opinion, that’s all.” Mr Matthews assured you. “No need to be disparaging.”

You paused, trying to think of the right way to phrase it. “Mr Cornwall...well, Mrs Zamolodchikova and I found him to be rather...brusque and arrogant. When Mrs Zamolodchikova turned down his request, he got rather upset and he seemed to take it as a personal affront.”

“She must’ve grown to regret that.” Mr Van Der Linde mused.

“Not at all. Mrs Zamolodchikova was happy for him of course, but she was also happy she rejected him. She said she couldn’t imagine being in business with someone so...tasteless.”

“Tasteless in what way?” Mr Matthews asked.

“Well he was...very new money.” When you saw the looks of confusion on the mens’ faces, you tried to think of a better way to phrase it. “He was something of a show off, and a little gaudy. He wore a lot of gold, I imagine to try and impress, but it came off as vain and rather insecure. Mrs Zamolodchikova was very critical of that kind of thing, and when she saw how self aggrandizing he became after his success, she grew to dislike him even more.”

Mr Van Der Linde nodded slowly, and you could almost see the wheels turning in his head. “It sounds like you’ve lead a rather interesting life.”

“I suppose you could say that.” Your eyes roamed over the two older men again. “I imagine that wasn’t the kind of information you wanted, my apologies Mr Van Der Linde.”

Despite your fears, the black haired man smiled and waved a hand. “It’s fine Miss [Last name]. I was just curious, that’s all. Javier, why don’t you walk her back to where she’s staying?”

“Sure thing boss.”

You turned to leave with Mr Escuella, but you hesitated just as he put a hand on the door knob. “Wait.” All eyes were back on you, and you felt yourself flush, but you felt that you needed to get this out. “I just-I just wanted to add that Mr Cornwall is a very powerful man, and in my opinion, and in the opinion of mutual acquaintances that he and I share, he is lead more by pride and ego than wisdom. He doesn’t take insults lightly and can be rather harsh.” You were very careful and deliberate with your words, not wanting to seem like you knew better, but still wanting to convey your feelings of apprehension.

Mr Van Der Linde raised an eyebrow, and you got the feeling that he understood what you were trying to say. “Duly noted Miss.”

You nodded, and turned back to Mr Escuella, this time actually following him outside.

“You must’ve lived a pretty good life for a while.”

You shrugged and felt yourself blush heavily. “I suppose.” It always somewhat embarrassed you, knowing how different your life had been from other people, especially those who were born into the same class as yourself. “I honestly just think I got lucky.” You looked down at your feet. “Don’t feel so lucky now though.”

A heavy silence hung between you two, and you had to bite the inside of your cheeks to stop yourself from crying.

“Sorry.” You said softly. “I’m sure you don’t want to hear about my woes.”

“It’s ok.” Mr Escuella assured you, his voice kind again. “Considering everything you’ve been through, I’d say you have a right to let your feelings out.”

You looked at Mr Escuella in surprise. You hadn’t really thought about it like that. “You’re very kind.” You said sincerely. “Sadie might not think so but I certainly do.”

That brought a bright smile to Mr Escuella’s face, which made you smile in turn. You always enjoyed making people smile, it made you feel good, and you felt that it proved that you were useful and worth something for once.

“You’re a sweet kid.” Mr Escuella’s eyes were shining, although you couldn’t hazard a guess as to why. “Don’t let anyone beat that out of you, ok?”

“I-Ok.” You weren’t sure how else you should respond, being so unused to compliments from strangers. You watched as he held the door to the house with the other women open. “Are you not coming in?”

“Nah.” He smiled. “You stay warm ok?”

“Of course, and you as well Mr Escuella.” You went inside, and no sooner was the door closed that you were practically swarmed by Miss Jones, Miss Gaskill, and Miss Jackson.

“What did they want?”

“You weren’t gone for very long, did everything go alright?”

“Are you allowed to say?”

You felt yourself flush as you tried to keep track of who was asking which question. “It was nothing special.” You said. “They just wanted to know how I knew Mr Cornwall.”

Of course they all also wanted to know, and so you told them what you had told Mr Van Der Linde, Mr Matthews, Mr Morgan, and Mr Escuella-omitting your warning at the end.

Much like the men, they were stunned to hear your story.

“So you grew up pretty well to do.” Miss Jones said, in a tone that sounded impressed and envious.

“I-Well, yes, I suppose.” The embarrassment from earlier had returned. “I was extremely privileged.”

“What was it like?” Miss Gaskill asked, sounding wistful. “Being in that world?”

You paused, trying to think of a good way to describe it.

“When I was a little girl, it was dazzling.” You confessed. “All those men and women in their finery...it looked like an entirely different world. Like a fairy tale.”

“Oh yeah?” Miss Jackson raised a brow. “Meet any prince charmings?”

You laughed. “I met some well to do gentlemen if that’s what you mean.”

“I think she means suitors.” Miss Gaskill said with a giggle, and an eager look on her face. “Well, did you?”

“Oh!” A scorching heat unlike any of the others from before overcame you, and you felt your throat dry up. “I-Well-no.” You stammered, looking askance out of embarrassment.

“Really?”

You looked up and saw Miss Roberts looking at you with surprise. “You mean none of them tried to…” She trailed off, leaving you to fill in the blank.

“Not at all.” You said, your flush worsening. “After all, I was just a maid’s daughter.”

And therein lies the rub.

No matter how much you learned or how you dressed or how you behaved, everyone knew that you were just the daughter of a maid who Mrs Zamolodchikova had taken pity on. Most of them had been polite enough, but that boundary had always been there, and always would be. You had grown accustomed to it, the way one would grow accustomed to a permanent limp. And it left you with what you imagined would be the same level of alienation. It was one of the many unfortunate side effects of being born as yourself, and one you had learned how to deal and navigate the world with.

But it would always be a fairy tale to you. Beautiful, grand, never within your reach no matter how well you knew it. And you would always be that little girl that chased after it with every breath in her chest.

#arthur morgan x reader #john marston x reader #rdr 2 #red dead 2 #red dead fic #fic: how the light gets in

[reddeadrevival]

“Talk Spanish To Me” (With Translations)

Pairing: Javier x Fem!Reader (sorry, it’s hard for me to write gender neutral smut)

Warnings/Tags: Smut (Oral Female Receiving, unprotected sex), Fluff, language (in Spanish tho)

Same exact smut as before only all Spanish words/phrases are now translated in bold.

You adjusted the hem of your blouse, more specifically the part of your blouse that covered your pistol.

“You look fine, girl, come on,” Javier urged as he waited a few yards away along the side of the bank with John, Bill and Arthur.

“I’m coming, hold yer horses,” you muttered as you marched over.

“We good on the plan?” John asked.

“One distraction coming up, come along, bitch,” Javier said with a playful smile.

“Hey, save the insults for the fake fight,” you said pointed at him with a playful glare.

“Sorry, sweetie,”

“Let’s hope those Spanish lessons paid off.”

“If not, I am going to be offended,” Javier said with mock sadness. You rolled your eyes and began to storm over to the bank door with him. He slammed open the door causing everyone inside to jump. There were a few people either at the teller window or sitting nearby as well as a single guard standing by the door. The two began to shout as they walked passed the man, drawing his attention from the door.

“¡Damn it!” Javier growled.

“Stupid fool!” you spat

“¿I’m stupid? ¡You’re a fucking bitch!”

“¡You’re a fucking bastard!” The guard approached them and tried to get them to calm down.

“Folks!”

“¿You realize that we could literally say anything and they’ll think we’re fighting?” Javier asked, still using an angry tone to keep up the charade.

“You’re right. ¡Banana! ¡Monkey! ¡Raccoon!” you spat. Javier did his best not to crack a smile or burst out laughing.

“¡You’re insane!” he shouted as he threw his hands up.

“¡You’re hot when you speak Spanish!” you shouted and Javier quirked an eyebrow as he tried not to smirk smugly.

Just then the guard got close enough for you to grab his weapon and a moment later the others burst in.

…

 It was a successful take and the group split up with their shares; you and Javier shared a horse for the getaway. You were still far from camp but Javier stopped Boaz on the side of the road.

“Something wrong?” you asked.

“You really find it sexy when I speak Spanish?” he asked as he looked back at you. Your cheeks flushed and you avoided looking him in the eye.

“Yeah, so?” you asked, trying to brush it off. “Can we go?”

“¿Does it turn you on?” he asked with a smug smirk.

“Forget I said anything,” you tried as you felt a smile pull at your lips.

“It does, ¿doesn’t it?”

“Shut up,” you hid your face against his back. He laughed out loud.

“You are adorable.” You groaned against his back and he laughed some more. “So you know, I also think you’re sexy when you speak my language.” He turned his head in an attempt to speak in your ear. “¿This is doing something for you?”

“Yes,” you groaned.

“Oh, I wish I could make you scream that,” he purred in a low almost growl.

“Why don’t you?” You lifted your head to look at him and met his eyes. They seemed to look just as dilated as your must have been.

 …

And that’s how you came to be in the middle of the forest, Javier’s head between your thighs, your skirts bunched up around your waist, as he devoured you. One of his hands stroked the inside of your thighs while the other joined his tongue on the assault on your clit. Your fingers weaved in his hair as your other reached up to the tree above your head. Your breath was coming out in short pants and your hips squirmed as his fingers slipped into you, his lips sucking on that little bundle of nerves. You cried out his name as your climax hit, hips convulsing as you held his head in place; his tongue slipped inside you to taste you and he groaned against you.

“You taste so sweet,” he moaned. Your ears started to ring and your hearing actually faded out for a solid 30 seconds. He kissed along your thigh as he smirked up at you before crawling up to peck your lips. His erection was straining against his pants painfully and he let out a loud sigh of relief as he opened his pants and pulled himself out. Pre-cum was dripping from the tip and he gave himself a few strokes. He looked down at you a moment as he slowly ran his cock up and down the length of your warm soaking folds, covering himself in you. “Are you ready, my love?”

“Please,” you begged. “I need you,”

“How could I deny you, love,” he whispered with a smile as he lined himself up. Your back arched as he pushed in all the way, bottoming out as he leaned over you. He caught your lips with his as enjoying the feeling of you encompassing him. His hips began to move, slowly, pulling out so just the tip was in before pushing back in completely. He held your thighs against his as he looked down at himself leaving and entering you. You couldn’t help the moans leaving your lips as he filled you completely over and over. His forehead rested against your shoulder, his hot breath hitting your skin in rapid bursts. He tilted his head and latched his lips onto the side of your neck. Teeth grazed the skin as a flick of the tongue sent shivers down your spine. His hips continued to roll against yours in an agonizingly slow pace. You wrapped your legs around his waist and dug your heels into his back to try and make him go faster.

“Javier,” you groaned.

“What do you need, sweetie?” he breathed against your neck before kissing below your ear.

“You’re killing me; go faster, please.”

“Anything for you, my dear,” he gasped as he suddenly bucked his hips. A small yelp left your throat as he suddenly started at a much quicker pace, hips slapping against yours lewdly.  

“Oh, you feel amazing my love. So good. So good. So good.” His teeth closed around your shoulder as he tried to muffle his moans. Fingers pressed into the skin of your thighs as he shifted you for a better angle. He began to ramble in Spanish as if the translator in his brain malfunctioned. “So good. You take me so well. You feel so good around me. So warm.” He groaned as he reached up a hand to fondle your breast. “Shit !” He lifted one of your legs and bought it up over his shoulder, his lips pressing open mouthed kisses along your calf. The new angle cause him to hit just the right spot in you to make you clench around him. “Come for me, my love. Let go,” he groaned. “Come for me,” he repeated. Your body shook against him as it hit you. He groaned as he felt your walls clamp down around him, bringing him closer to his own release. His hips started to lose their rhythm and become more erratic. “Oh God!” His breath caught in his throat. “¿Inside? Can I come inside? ¡Please!”

“Yes! Oh, yes!” You squirmed beneath him as he pounded into you relentlessly. His hips suddenly stilled against yours; he pushed himself as deep as he could go as his climax hit. He grunted as he gave a few last thrusts through his orgasm. His lips met yours and he groaned loudly as he pulled out of you. He collapsed beside you, chest heaving, before he pulled you against him. “That was incredible,” you said as you smiled up at him.

“Glad to hear it,” he said with a chuckle.

  (Master List)

#javier escuella x reader #Javier Escuella #smut #no spanish #translated #reddeadrevival #rdr2 x reader

[cowboyarthurmorgan]

Rocky Roads // Arthur Morgan x Modern!Reader

Part Two

a/n: sorry that this took me so long to post! I honestly didn’t know where it was going for a while, but I finally figured it out. I also put anyone who wanted to be tagged under the read more! If anyone else wants to be tagged just let me know!

The two of you rode at a fast pace for what seemed like hours, even though it was only about twenty minutes or so. When Arthur finally deemed it safe, he led his horse over to a clearing that was hidden behind some rocks so you could wait out any stray lawmen that might still be chasing you. You dismounted his horse and rolled your shoulders in an attempt to release some tension. This wasn’t the first time you had a run in with the law, and you suspected it wouldn’t be the last, but you were glad that you got away scot-free.

You broke the silence that was forming over the two of you first. “So what are we planning on doing now?” you asked tentatively. You realized that you no longer had your horse, so you had no safe way to travel to another location. You didn’t suspect that Arthur would just leave you behind - he didn’t seem the type - but you didn’t know if he would continue to help you.

“I’m thinkin’ we set up camp for the night and set out early tomorrow mornin’.” You nodded your head in agreement as he continued, “do you have anywhere I can bring you tomorrow?”

You shook your head, “no, I’m not from around here.”

He ran his fingers over his chin, deep in thought. “You know, I owe you one for helping me out back there. I have somewhere you can stay for a bit, at least until you can figure out what to do next. We’ll start heading that way tomorrow.”

“Wow, are you sure?”, you asked incredulously.

“Hmmhm. You seem like you’d fit right in with the folk I run with and we can always use another gun. It’s a bit far from here, but we should get there in a day or so. And besides, I really do own you one.”

You were very surprised at his offer. So far since you’ve traveled back in time, you’ve only met a handful of people who were this nice to you. You were hesitant to accept his offer - you did just meet him after all - but you remembered how well it went for you when you accepted the offer the last mysterious man gave you.

Can I trust him though?, you thought to yourself. You were excited to see where this would lead, but you knew that you still had to keep your guard up. It was easy to forget that not everyone was trust worthy, but you decided that if he wanted to hurt you in anyway, he probably would've done it by now.  

“Sure, I’ll come with you. At least until I get my feet back on the ground. Thank you”, you finally responded after some time passed. “I just have to warn you that I’m not a great person. But based on what happened earlier, I bet you ain’t either.”

Arthur let out a gentle laugh and smiled. “That’s supposed to be my line, miss. I think you’ll fit right in. Now, why don’t we set up camp. I have some food I can cook up for the two of us.”

You nodded and a comfortable silence fell over the pair of you. Arthur got up and handed you his tent and then went about finding some firewood to start a campfire. You quickly got to work assembling the tent and placed down his bedroll. In the few months you’ve spent living in the 1890s, you still haven’t gotten used to sleeping on the hard ground, but you figured it would have to do for the night.

The two of you were rather relaxed as the sun continued to set and night fell over the small camp. Once everything was set up and the campfire was roaring, you took a seat right in front of the flames while Arthur tended to his horse. You could hear him whisper soft words of praise to his companion while he brushed its mane out.

You decided that it would be a good time to take inventory on what you still had on you and what you lost along with your horse. You had a small amount of money, your trusty revolver, and some extra ammo. You were glad that Arthur decided to help you out and he seemed like nice enough company.

After ten minutes, Arthur joined you by the fire and started to grill up dinner in silence. You noticed the skillful way his hands worked over the flames. You could tell that he was used to making his own meals. You noted that he must be on the road by himself quite often. When he was done, he handed you your portion and you wasted no time digging in.

You took a bite and hummed in delight. “This is great, thank you Arthur.”

“It was no trouble. It’s been awhile since I cooked for someone.”, he replied before asking, “so what were you doin’ in town?”

“I was just wasting some time before I headed to Strawberry”, you stated with a small smile. It wasn’t completely a lie, but Arthur could tell that you weren’t telling him the whole truth. You really would have been heading to Strawberry the next day if you never ran into Arthur. The stagecoach you were planning on robbing was going to be passing through town around lunch time, but you didn’t know what direction it was going to be coming from. You were hoping to pick that information up while you were at the bar, but you were obviously interrupted.

“Was that really what you were doin’ [y/n]?”, Arthur asked with a knowing look.

You let out a small laugh and smiled. “Partly. I was planning on heading to Strawberry tomorrow, but I did have a reason to be in that bar.” You brought your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them, before continuing. “I was gathering information about a stagecoach that would be heading to Strawberry so I could rob it blind.”

This caused Arthur to stop mid bite so he could look at you. “You really will fit in with the people I live with.” He stopped for a moment to think. “Were you really planning on robbin’ it alone? I can’t say that’s the craziest thing I’ve heard.” He let out a hearty laugh while shaking his head in disbelief. “You know we’re near Strawberry still. I bet we could still go through with your plan if you’re willin’”.

You were shocked to hear that he was willing to do this with you. You figured that he’s probably robbed a stagecoach or two on his own before, but you didn’t expect him to want to do it now.

“If you want to, I’m down with it.”

Arthur looked confused for a second and you realized why. “Down with it? Should I take that as a yes?”

You let out a small chuckle, “yeah, sorry. That’s a popular phrase where I’m from. I forgot that some people don’t use it.”

“That’s quite all right [y/n].” He rubbed his hands together and said, “now, let’s figure this out. What information do you have on the stagecoach?”

You told him everything you knew and after figuring out how to find it tomorrow, the conversation died down and you let out a yawn.

“I only have one bedroll on me, but you can have it for the night.” Arthur said while taking out what you assumed was his journal and a pencil.

You waved your hand dismissively and got up. “Don’t be stupid, we can just share it. We’re grown adults who can share a bed for the night. I just hope you don’t snore”, you said while dusting yourself off and walked over to the tent. You sat down on the sleeping bag and began to take your boots off. You looked at Arthur across the flames and noticed a slight blush on his face. You smiled to yourself as you put your boots to the side and placed your gun within reaching distance.

“Well, alright then”, Arthur replied sheepishly while looking down.

You said a quick goodnight to the man who you hoped would be a good friend and got comfortable under the sleeping bag. You could just make out the sounds of Arthur scribbling away in his journal as you started to doze off. It wasn’t until a little while later that you were woken up by Arthur joining you in the tent. He swiftly got ready for bed, and joined you on the ground. The bedroll was small, but he still tried to keep a respectable distance from you. You could feel his body heat warming you up a bit and quickly fell back asleep.

tagging: @0dobi0 , @sansberry-chan

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan imagine #rdr2 imagine #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan fanfic #red dead imagine #red dead #mine #red dead redemption fanfic #red dead redemption x reader #rocky road

[lorweaver]

11 Questions Tag

Woot, my 2nd tag eva!

Tagged by @notanotherhour! Thank you, lovely ✩·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥( ͡ᵔ ͜ʖ ͡ᵔ )*̩̩͙✩·͙˚̩̥̩̥.

1. What inspired your most recent WIP?

Moooost recent? Hm hm hm. It’s hard to remember which is the most recent considering how many wips and ideas I have, but I believe the most recent one is Sky Warrior. It’s inspired by and pays homage to an old LOTRs RPG writing-board I did with some other Orlando Bloom fangirls. We jumped on a plane and crashed in Middle Earth. Needless to say, surprising adventures ensued. I’ve been thinking about making a page for it, but the opening is posted here.

2. Do you prefer writing at day or night?

Night! When it’s dark and I’m alone and there’s no one to bother me. I’m also an insomniac, so it’s when my creativity flows best.

3. Would you ever want to see one of your wips adapted into a film or tv series?

I saw Bearer of Power in my head as if it was a movie, so I always tried to emphasize its visual aesthetics. I’d be pretty pleased if that made it. So long as I was in charge and the budget was expansive. Any of my other wips would be visually pleasing too. I think. But Frost of Avalon is probably the closest second.

4. What is the first plot you ever remember writing?

In elementary, we were supposed to write a little short story. If I recall, mine was about a purple and green cat-alien. I don’t remember anything about it. There may have been food involved.

5. What is your editing process?

I rewrite my first draft with a side by side view. Then I’ll add the meatiness of the scene(s). 

After that, I look for repetitive ideas and choose the better visual. I tend to convey the same intention three different ways (pointed out to me by my editor), so this process is important for me. I also get rid of unnecessary phrases that are slowing down the action such as: she felt, he saw etc.

Then! I do a search for /be/ verbs to see if I can nix them by changing the sentence. Then! I search for words used too often or close together and manipulate the sentence to get rid of them.

I do a last read through after that, tweak it, and then I send it to the beta reader/editor if I have one for that project.

6. Who’s your favorite author?

I don’t know if I have an actual favorite author. I have favorite books whose author’s writing I enjoy, but I may not have necessarily liked other books by that author and so do not consider them my favorite...

Short answer: Garth Nix and Sherwood Smith are the authors of my favorite novels (both fantasy). Aya Shouoto, Rei Toma, and Julietta Suzuki have authored my favorite manga.

7.  How do you take critique?

With a lot of anxiety and trepidation, but I get over it after finally reading the comments. They’re never as bad as I anticipate. You’d think it wouldn’t scare me as much after having an editor/mentor nicely tear my writing apart. He’s improved my pros by leaps and bounds. Now critiques are more about how to improve my story or answer questions (which I prefer. plot holes bad) versus sentence structure and grammatical ignorance, which just made me feel stupid. Now, I’m a pro at pros ᕙ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ᕗ

Jk. I still get carried away sometimes, in which case my new editor gently reminds me to pull back on the overly ornate visuals.

8. Do any of your OCs have pets? If not, what pet would they want?

Carna has a pet wolf for a while. She also has a pet horse––kind of? Can I call a sentient being a pet? Carys has a pet fox for a bit. Hm. All three of those pets have a huge similarity. I need to be careful about repeating ideas in different versus. Then again, I get tired of having to remember to write in the pet, which is why they’re not exactly just pets. Oh! Melody has a pet duck! And it’s just a duck :3 Arthur from Frost of Avalon wants a pet dragon, but no one will let him have one.

9. How realistic do you like your worlds to be?

So long as I can see it in my head and process its function, I’m cool with a whole range of reality. I feel like, so long as the world building is solid and you make me believe in it then the world is realistic, even if it’s very not. I like writing these too. Though I’ve yet to actually delve into anything crazy aside from super awesome magical abilities and crazy god-like beings  ( ͡ºั ͜つ ͡ºั) I like them stupidly overpowered because I’m power hungry. It’s the only way I can live out my dreams of absolute domination, though I appreciate a good stipulation. Otherwise, some of my stories would end in a couple of chapters.

10. How many drafts do you intend on writing for your current piece?

Which one? Bearer of Power is probably on its 30th rewrite? But if we’re talking the one I’m most invested in right now, probably 2 or 3 depending on the author head and editor?

11. What writing advice do you have for other writers?

Write write write. Write about what you love and what you want to read, but be open to learn from those who know more than you. I mentioned earlier that I had a mentor/editor for a while. I wish I had one way earlier. I wouldn’t have had to endure some of the not so nice comments about my earlier pros if I had. But don’t let anyone tell you what to write. That’s up to you, and be careful about someone dictating your voice. Though I learned a lot from my mentor, our writing voices were very different, and I was on the verge of losing mine in his attempt to improve my writing. 

Same questions.

I tag @vieliwrites @mvcreates @pilipalea

Sorry if you’ve done this one or don’t do tag games. It’s hard to tell sometimes.

#tag game #11 questions #ask game #writeblr #writer #writer blog

[beyondthetemples-ooc]

“Telling” Asks

Because I’m relaxing today and I’ve never answered some of these before.

From: https://beyondthetemples-ooc.tumblr.com/post/185158056997/weird-asks-that-say-a-lot

--

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans? Teacups would be ideal, but the reality is more water bottles.

2. chocolate bars or lollipops? Honestly? Neither. (Unless it's a really good chocolate bar, like 85% dark, or Cadbury's~)

3. bubblegum or cotton candy? Both are too sweet for me. (Though, maybe once a year, I'll indulge in one of each.)

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups? Bottles, if it's not soda! (Good for multi-tasking and not spilling!) But otherwise, glass cups. Unless the plastic ones are really pretty or have a very nice grippy shape to them.

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear? Oh always goth, all the way. Technically a more "formal" goth (romantigoth is the label i'd choose if i HAD to pick one),

7. earbuds or headphones? That depends. When I'm active, or when it's hot outside? Earbuds. But when travelling, trying to work in a loud environment, or generally needing sound cancellation: definitely headphones.

8. movies or tv shows? Oh, that REALLY depends on the content. Movies are easier on the ADD, and most TV shows are paced TERRIBLY in the long-running format, but then there's, like... cartoons, basically, that have satisfying stories in each episode AND a great overarching plot.

9. favorite smell in the summer? Pre-Thunderstorm Static.

10. game you were best at in p.e.? I wasn't the best at ANY game in PE... ;P Honestly, my best "game" was probably....... tag, but the kind where they're running away from you as a form of bullying, so you just embrace it and "touch" them just to mess with them.

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day? I don't. (I don't feel hungry most mornings.) "First lunch" is usually a piece of fruit and maybe a granola bar.

12. name of your favorite playlist? I don't do "playlists", I do "play every album by this artist in chronological order"! But I guess my Epica and Evanescence stations on Pandora come pretty close, huh?

13. lanyard or key ring? Neither actually; I use those bungee-like things you can stretch to hold my things. I literally attach my wallet to my bag's handle with those so I don't lose it.

14. favorite non-chocolate candy? Peppermint? Candied ginger? Do s'mores count?~

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment? Oh DAMN that's hard... Let's see. If AR Summer Reading projects count: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire? The Invisible Thread (by Yoshiko Uchida)? Fahrenheit 451? And if those don't count, maybe The Scarlet Letter (by Hawthorne, of course).

16. most comfortable position to sit in? Your classic lotus position. I'm essentially in it right now.

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes? Work shoes, but outside of work? Black flip flops.

18. ideal weather? Realistically: 65, light breeze, and lots of clouds with a little rain. But my absolute FAVORITE weather was something I've only ever seen ONCE, and that was a thunderstorm in the middle of a snowstorm. It was incredible and the image of lightning against the snowfall is forever seared into the core of my soul as one of the most gorgeous things I've ever experienced.

19. sleeping position? Varies night by night. Safe to call it a general Flop.

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)? It depends on the draft! First drafts are best done for me in notebooks (usually, unless it's a scene with No Chronology Yet, it's in the notebook meant for the story)! But also, anything that's on hand whenever a new scene strikes me works too. I've written on napkins, calendar pages, doctor notes, and Greyhound bus tickets.

21. obsession from childhood? Ooh, Teen Titans, still to this day!

22. role model? ...Rrrraven? (And/or, my Actual Mentors. But it's very much a "don't be me, just let us try to teach you some things so you can be the Best You".)

23. strange habits? ...oh gods, where do I even begin. I meditate and practice energy work on the daily. I touch things almost any time I'm walking anywhere, like just reach my hands out a little and touch whatever's closest. I tend to ask a lot of questions when I'm talking to someone, lots of "why is that". I compulsively read Every Single Ingredient on every box I buy and research anything I'm not familiar with. Does taking like 15 pills and vitamins every day count? And also my "nesting" behavior, any time I'm somewhere I feel it's not rude to re-arrange, I grab pillows and blankets for support.

24. favorite crystal? Damnit, all my favorite stones are actually not "crystals"?! But crystalline azurite is close enough. (It kind of depends on the day and what energy I'm looking for. Stone/crystal work is another one of those weird habits. ;P )

25. first song you remember hearing? The "Arthur" themsong. I remember going to my mother and being like, "They said A! A is a letter!" And it wasn't for another, like, 3-5 years that I'd realize, they're saying "hey", not "A".

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather? Stay inside. (Anything that counts as "warm" rather than "cool" is too warm for me....) But if I had to pick ONE thing, definitely swimming, in a lake (because I have a mild chlorine allergy).

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather? ALL of them! Just being outside as long as it's not too sunny! Hiking, meditating, I used to do all my spiritual rituals outside, reading, walking, hell even at work when we have dogs to take on walks, I love walking in the park with them. Being outside when it's snowing. And then curling up in my room, on my soft bed, with a cup of tea and a book (or a great fanfic) after...

28. five songs to describe you? Teen Titans themesong, Bakura's Theme, What's the Use of Feeling (Blue) 1. End of the Dream, by Evanescence [ x ] 2. My Demons, by Starset [ x ] 3. Underneath, by Tarja [ x ] 4. Paradise (What About Us), Within Temptation ft. Tarja [ x ] 5. Reality Fringe, by Alex Dalliance

29. best way to bond with you? Talking, communicating, while respecting boundaries, with patience and sincerity.

30. places that you find sacred? Honestly, the biggest answers are a part of the Nexus and I don't think I'm ready to talk about that here;; Let's just say, astral adventures have gotten wild enough that my spirit guide and I have meeting places that are sacred, my leader-goddess has shown me a few places, and there are some "places" within my own mindscape that are sacred enough.

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names? Oh honey, that depends entirely on my mood. And the situation. I have multiple cloaks, some closet cosplays, I wear skirts every day, business jackets, and I can mix and match them however I please. It REALLY depends on whose ass I'm kicking.

32. top five favorite vines? I know I really like Thomas Sanders? But specifics-- Oh. Oh crap, wait I have to visit my vines tag to remember my favorites. DEFINITELY "This bitch empty. YEET" because I didn't know the vine OR exclamation before I saw a fanart that had me DYING OF LAUGHTER, thinking someone just made Blue Diamond yell the word "YEET" for no reason. "FREE-shuh-VAH-cuhdu" makes me die every time. "There's only one thing worse... A CHILD" is TOP QUALITY, genuinely hits at least 3 critical notes of my sense of humor. I love the one with the guys playing the piano (I don't know what genre but it's old-school and chill) and the guy comes in and starts club dancing to it. And the umbrella one with, "Run".

33. most used phrase in your phone? ...probably "if you want"?

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head? I haven't seen an ad in literally years. (get uBlock Origin, it works way better than adblock! also, i don't Internet on my phone.)

35. average time you fall asleep? 11pm? (Work nights: 9-10:30, depending on my exhaustion levels. Not work nights? 1-3am.)

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing? The actual LOLcats website!

37. suitcase or duffel bag? Neither; I actually use a mid-sized messenger bag and only use Personal Item Sized Bags for airplane trips. Free baggage, y'all. ;P

38. lemonade or tea? Oh tea, definitely tea. (Unless it's too-sweet iced black tea; then that watermelon mint lemonade wins.)

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie? Iiii actually can hardly eat either one, but Starbucks' lemon loafs were addictive (but really bad for my system) and I do love lemon meringue flavored things~

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school? M e . (I did weird shit like practice reading auras, accidentally warp the moodscape of everyone around me, and get an A on a pop quiz the teacher didn't lecture about for more than five minutes.)

41. last person you texted? An old high school friend I recently reconnected with.

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets? Jacket, since I don't wear pants (unless work forces me to, ew).

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket? I have no idea what differentiates them. =w=;; Cardigan probably, because I know they have really long flowy elegant ones I like to wear sometimes.

44. favorite scent for soap? ...ooh, that's tough... Lavender's always a good bet, rosemary-mint was a delight, I cucumber-eucalyptus was nice, and I have no idea what scent it was, but a local soap-maker at the farmer's market in the city I lived in for a couple years had this one that was made with, like, honey and red clay, and it felt AMAZING.

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero? Damnit, don't make me CHOOSE like this! I mean, for writing obviously Superhero because I write fanfics like hell for that genre, but I guess my Pokemon fanfics count as fantasy? And, come to think of it, most of my stories center around metaphysical weirdness is some way or other, so... straddling the line between fantasy and superhero.

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in? Nudity.

47. favorite type of cheese? ...provolone maybe? ??

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be? Pomegranate, probably. Gotta do some work to get to the good stuff, strangely unavailable most of the time, and once you get past all the drawbacks, it's just absolutely loaded with compartmentalized goodness.

49. what saying or quote do you live by? Bold of you to assume I only have one quote! Here's just a small sampling. ~ "Don't you want to feel? Don't you want to live your life? How much longer are you gonna give into the fear?" -Disappear, by Evanescence. ~ "Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night." -Edgar Allen Poe ~ "Be yourself, everyone else is already taken." -Oscar Wilde ~ "Guilt is a powerful motivator. Redemption, even greater." -The Unforgiving, by Within Temptation et al. "When you know in your soul who you are, you can never be corrupted again." -Raven, from the Games graphic novel. + Various quotes from my organization, along the lines of things like "Any Tom, Dick, or Harry can do your job, but only you can be there for your friends, family, and accomplish your dreams", and "When you understand WHY we do what we do, WHAT we do makes more sense".

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have? My girlfriend? Most of those vines I mentioned? "OH TITS IT CAN FLY"?

51. current stresses? j o b

52. favorite font? Arial, simple yet elegant. Easy to read. I write all my stories in Arial, so I'm biased. l3

53. what is the current state of your hands? They're in Ohio with the rest of me? 8F No, but seriously, lowkey aching a bit around the finger joints from constantly dragging dogs around for a whopping 60 hours this week, but they're not burned and there's only one Tiny cut I got at work, and I still don't know why, but that's almost gone already. I like my fingernails too, they've been breaking at the corners lately but they're still Decently Long.

54. what did you learn from your first job? "Turn tables" are not, in fact, the name of a band, but an item of musical arrangement. (I worked at the Exchange and someone asked if we had anything like the turn tables. I thought they meant musically similar to a band named Turn Tables.)

55. favorite fairy tale? Does the epic poetry of the Kalevala story count? (Finland's national epic!) But I'm not a big fan of the Grimm style fairy tales.

56. favorite tradition? Going to Evanescence concerts at every single available opportunity? Wearing a bracelet my gf gave me and a ring my mother gave me any time I travel? I'm not one much for Generational Tradition at all, I do kinda like forming my own though~

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome? Literally just, myself. 1. Overcoming my doubt in myself. 2. Overcoming my social anxiety re: Starting Conversations. 3. Overcoming my phobia so I could, you know. Eat food.

58. four talents you’re proud of having? ?! How do you even define what constitutes a "talent"? 1. WRITING! (Creativity re: characters and the plots they're in. Descriptive writing. My mother always acts blown away whenever she reads my writing re: "how you get into the character's head".) 2. I can speak very eloquently and articulately, most of the time. And not just via verbiage; I know how to say things that Matter. 3. I can cook a fantastic stir-fry! And, apparently, really good soup. 4. I'm proud of my (non-numerical) eidetic memory, sometimes. It's kinda just There, and I'm not, like, ACTIVELY proud of it, but it sure makes things easier re: remembering friends' triggers, fandom trivia, etc.

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be? What makes you think I don't create each response on demand? (There's... really not something I think I say often enough to count as a catch phrase. So I legitimately have no idea.)

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be? Is "dark magical girl anime" a thing? Because that'd be MY thing.

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.? See above quotes.

62. seven characters you relate to? 1. R A VE N that's it that's the list Theeee only other ones I relate to are kinda awkward answers to give for this (re Synpathy and such related topics), but then again there's hella sympathy for Raven too, so.... 2. Ryou Bakura 3. Blue Diamond 4. Lapis Lazuli 5. Malachite (it's Complicated) 6. Sucy 7. Crona

63. five songs that would play in your club? Just insert any five Alex Dalliance songs here, I don't listen to a whole lot of Club Style Music. (Unless.... does, like, Cascada and Caramel count? Because I still kinda like their styles.) My "club" would be more like orchestrals by Danny Elfman and Evanescence instrumentals and/or live music from local rock bands.

64. favorite website from your childhood? TitansGo.Net! Screenshots, transcripts, even the forums... I browsed that site on the daily.

65. any permanent scars? Oh boy, are you sure you're ready for this? My scars fade quickly, but you'll see them if you know what to look for. One on my forearm from when I fell off a bed onto a broken fan grate at age 5 (it's a 3-inch long gash), on my left pointer finger from being bitten by an angry rabbit, scars on my heels from my comic!Raven cosplay shoes, scar on my right hip from using rubber cement to attach a scar prosthetic for a Kary cosplay (at my supposedly practical-effects-knowledgeable father's advice-- not good advice at all, for the record, don't put that shit anywhere NEAR your skin), tiny spot on my right hand from the time I became too emotional at my girlfriend's house and scraped it on her carpet, tiny dot on my left shoulder from a protruding nail in an old (pavillon without a roof thing?) we once had in the backyard, tiny line on my right ring finger from the time Belle nearly fell from right next to me and I caught her (she tried to grab something and wound up scratching me), and a scar on my right elbow from cleaning the tortilla press at Chipotle. (They didn't tell me there were protective gloves to use. They really should've told me that.)

66. favorite flower(s)? Oh gosh, I don't know. I like almost all flowers, really. I love the scent of lilac and magnolia in the air. Rose and hibiscus make lovely teas. Seeing mint and lemon balm in bloom always makes me feel contented. Willow and basswood flowers remind me of happy childhood memories at the nature reserve. Pink hibiscus flowers have Very Special Meaning to me (for the other blog, really). And of course, flowers with energy or aromatherapeutic effects like lavender are favorites, too.

67. good luck charms? Look, I don't NEED good luck.~ Confidence, strategy, and being alright with whatever happens are my "good luck charms". (And throwing a little magic at it never hurts when I REALLY want something...)

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried? ....I'm not comfortable answering that (phobia memories, just not gonna think about that okay.)

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned? ...Remember that eidetic memory I was talking about? Every single little tiny fact I'm thinking about, I can remember how I learned about it.

70. left or right handed? Ambi, actually! 55% right. 45% left.

71. least favorite pattern? That depends on what it's for. Wallpapers? Floral (it kills my ADD, but floral patterns can make some very pretty dresses and blankets). Furniture? Paisley (but some people rock it in clothes). Furniture? any kind of fur trim (but again, it looks good on clothes). Clothing on me? Leopard and zebra (but I like it on lots of other things). My room? Checkered and tartan (but again, good patterns for other things, esp. clothing and interior styles that AREN'T associated with my room in particular, my room's just so noncomforming and cluttered that Busy Patterns like that aren't). I guess overall I'm just not a fan of highly stripey or square-y patterns?

72. worst subject? Math. Always has been. Probably always will be.

73. favorite weird flavor combo? The weirdest and actually not the grossest I tried was, out of curiosity to see what Tamaranian food might ACTUALLY taste like, I mixed sushi with ice cream. It really wasn't that bad! That one's my favorite for fandom reasons. 8P I don't do a whole lot of "weird" flavor combos otherwise.

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen? (Those... those are the same thing, buddy.) 8 or 9. NSAIDs, especially naproxen and ibuprofen, really irritate my stomach, so it has to be worth a week or two of Lowkey Constant Nausea to take it. For example, the last time I was waking it, I had dry socket. You know, that thing that happens when you get a tooth extracted and the blood clot doesn't form, so YOUR ACTUAL BONE IS EXPOSED for two FUCKING weeks..... and before the dental stuff, I would only take it when Monthly Stuff would get so bad, it could leave my crippled and crying on the bathroom floor for an hour. (Might've been longer if stepmom hadn't gotten me n0aproxen.....)

75. when did you lose your first tooth? Hell if I know what age that was, I think I swallowed it.

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)? Potato soup, especially my mother's! But I also like BAKED fries (actually fried fries tend to be... Really Badly Received by my system;;), kettle chips are pretty good in small amounts, and I love those criss-cross cut fries at Mr. Hero (I just can't eat more than, like, five at a time, guh).

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill? I absolutely LOVED having my lemon balm. But it got the aerial blight from my peace lily, and it died with all the rest of my houseplants. :c

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store? Sushi from a grocery store, just because this place called Giant Eagle makes some fairly good sushi for like $5 on certain days of the week, and I think they make it every 3-4 days. Fresh, like you can see them making it right in front of you.

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo? My passport is actually my best, I think~ Though my college ID didn't look bad, either.

80. earth tones or jewel tones? Depends on what they're for. Clothes, I guess jewel tones because I like blue and purple. But for interior decorations, earth tones like deep rich browns and black are my go-to.

81. fireflies or lightning bugs? They're.. the same thing? ??? I've used both interchangeably.

82. pc or console? PC, mostly because that's all I've had most of my life, and of course DC Universe Online was on my PC so maybe I'm biased. 8F

83. writing or drawing? Oooh, writing for me, all the way~ (Though I gotta do SOME drawing now and again!)

84. podcasts or talk radio? Neither, they're both too long for my ADD. And I don't... really care about most people on them? The only one I've ever seen was Amy Lee on short talk show interviews and the Steven Universe podcast with MKAtwood of course.

84. barbie or polly pocket? Neither. (I had both. Played with Polly Pocket because it came with a lot more animals, but those got lost way too easily, and I never got into the Barbie.)

85. fairy tales or mythology? They're both equally important and equally fascinating! Mythology has more Spiritual Resonance, and fairy tales have more Societal Resonance.

86. cookies or cupcakes? Depends on what kind! Oatmeal raisin cookies beat chocolate cupcakes, but red velvet cupcakes with a cream cheese frosting beat chocolate chip cookies.

87. your greatest fear? I have emet*phobia. You can look up what that means yourself because I don't even want to type the word, thanks.

88. your greatest wish? Just, freedom.

89. who would you put before everyone else? Damn it, I'm too compassionate for that answer. Whoever needs it more at that very moment.

90. luckiest mistake? Being so antisocial that the people running the ALP program made me sit with my girlfriend. I asked "Do you like Teen Titans?", and the rest is history.

91. boxes or bags? Boxes for long-term storage, bags for the daily.

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights? Lamps, generally. Candles trump them all, but LED lamps are a lot less fire-hazard-y when you might fall asleep. lD;;

93. nicknames? RHS, RWT, Shadow, Zira (means "Shadow"), closest friends call me Rae.

94. favorite season? Winter~ It's the kindest to my easily-overheated sensibilities.

95. favorite app on your phone? Prooobably the voicemail app my or/ganization uses? I don't do much else on my phone besides, you know. Phone stuff (talk/text).

96. desktop background? PC: A shot of Raven meditating in the forest from Justice League vs. Teen Titans, with the incense and glow and her head bowed and focused and everything. Laptop: The sky as Lapis looked up at it, the gorgeous Homeworld constellation from "Ocean Gem".

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized? Three. Mine, my girlfriend's, and only because she had the same phone number since I was like 8 years old, my stepmother's. Everyone else's keeps changing.

98. favorite historical era? The answer I want to give is Nexus-related, but I don’t think I have a real favorite era. I know too much about the history of misogyny, racism, colonialism, variation between eras around the world, and generally fucked-up shit in every era I've ever learned about.

#IRL canon #meme #filled meme

[actualbird]

Hmmmmn do u have any all-time fave fics u could ref? I trust u

OH MAN!!! u didnt specify any fandom so im assuming you mean my all time faves from WHEREVER and OH BOY!!! 

i actually have fic rec page on my blog which spans over a whole bunch of fandoms and has cool legends like humor and angst and stuff (im still working on it tho omg) along with my catchall fic tag where i shove all the fics i reblog. but you asked for my ALL TIME FAVES so here are some off the top of my head (im limiting myself to one per fandom or else id be here FOREVER). 

(note: pls check the tags of fics before you read them)

Designations Congruent with Things by cleanwhiteroom (alt link) [Pacific Rim]

He begins at it already pried apart

OHHHHHH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. oh my GOD. okay i lose my shit over Designations Congruent with Things on a yearly basis because it is, by far, one of the most stunning pieces of fiction ive read. full stop. not only is it a feat of fanfiction (it’s GODDAMN LONG. it’s been taken off of ao3, so i cant check the wc, but damn i remember it was long), but as a story, it’s just. god, i dont even know what to say. ive already talked about this fic in a previous ask, so im just going to reiterate all my love again, just phrased slightly differently.

DCwT is an epic piece of Newt/Hermann Pacific Rim fanfiction. it follows Hermann and Newt after the events of the movie and delve painfully into each and every consequence their actions cause. it’s quite possibly the hardest thing ive ever read, for many reasons; the emotions are so vivid and they hurt; the science is so well researched it took me an hour to get through a paragraph because i my brain was still trying to catch up; Run On Sentences For Miles; it’s really, really goddamn long. i remember it got some flack for being over complicated, but in my opinion, the things that make this fic difficult are exactly what make it incredible. it’s overly cerebral in a way two messed up genius scientists would absolutely be. this fic is. i dont have words for it. i have only read the whole thing in its entirety ONCE and i have tried to reread it but goddamn is it difficult. this fic is definitely not for everybody, but it’s a piece of art that gained a bit of a cult following back when it was updating. (theres a fictional band in the fic that inspired ppl to make the band and the music real. RIGHT???) anyway this fic is basically the cornerstone which i worship when it comes to fanfiction as a genre of literature. jesus christ. jesus christ.

World Ain’t Ready by idiopathicsmile [Les Miserables]

Enjolras presses his lips together. He already looks pained, and Grantaire hasn’t even opened his mouth yet. That’s got to be a record, even for them.

“I need a favor,” he says at last.

“With what?” says Grantaire. “Ooh, are you forming a cult? Can I join? I’d be awesome at cults, I just know it.” He ticks off his qualifications on his fingers. “I love chanting, I look great in robes—”

(High school AU. Grantaire the disaffected stoner is pulled into a cause bigger than himself. Or: in which there are pretend boyfriends for great justice.)

if youve ever been in the les mis fandom i know you know this fic. i know youve already read this fic. i know that your dog has probably already read this fic. i know that this fic has been recced to hell and back, and currently resides as the most kudo-sed work in the les mis tag on AO3. but im reccing it anyways because it’s just THAT GOOD. this fic got me INTO THE FANDOM. pacing. plot. characterization. teen angst. HUMOR. this fic is perfect. literally no other words. it’s just perfect. i read this in my last few months of senior year high school, and never before have i ever read a fic that actually, truly, felt like it was about teenagers. the narrative and the voice. the dialog. god. if this were a book, id buy it. and that’s saying something because im always BROKE. but id buy this fic. several times. who am i kidding. you dont need to know this bc youve read this fic before. if you havent, please. do yourself a favor. oh my god. oh my god. (and when youre done, read all of idiopathicsmile’s other fics too god theyre all SO GOOD)

catch me if you can by isawet [Teen Wolf]

What do you think of my solution to the Kobayashi Maru?

hands down one of my favorite teen wolf fic. a vague summary gives way to a fic with incredible characterization. fucking beautiful writing style. non-chronological story telling done wonderfully. and gosh, that ending. hilarious in tiny bits that make it all the more better. just, honestly. this fic needs so much more love. it’s my go-to fic whenever i want to understand just how one can utilize suspense and tension in writing. what the hell. what the

Segments [series] by d_aia [Kingsman: The Secret Service]

“Are you sure that’s how you want to tell him?” Merlin asked once again.

“He will need space to deal with situation. It’s how he copes,” Arthur explained and a bit pretentiously at that, if one were to ask Merlin. “I’m giving him a place and a reason to run.”

Merlin chose to shut up.

all fics in this series? my favorite. it’s intelligent, brutal, beautiful. it’s been a while since ive read these, but theres a reason these fics still haunt me. god. god.

Graduate Vulcan for Fun and Profit by lazulisong [Star Trek: AOS]

It really does take a village to raise a Jim.

The members of the Kelvin’s crew watch over Jim as much as he lets them.

I LOVE THIS FIC SOOOOOOO MUCH. it’s a really delicate, heartfelt piece that isnt afraid to be an asshole sometimes, which is basically jim kirk in a nutshell. not only does it go through an incredible reflective relationship with some rando vulcan who decided to take him under his wing, but it does so in a realistic way that doesnt over dramatize aspects, but still ends up very vivid. also, THERES VULCAN LINGUISTICS. linguistics + fanfiction = 10000000% Best Shit EVER.

fathers and sons by M_Leigh [X-Men: DoFP]

“I have an – interest – in Peter Maximoff,” Erik said, somewhat grudgingly, glaring. “A – familial – interest –”

Everybody stared at him.

“In that – mutantkind is one – large – family –” Erik said valiantly, if pathetically.

“Oh, shit,” Alex said. “No way. No way.”

ghghgfjhdh the first xmen fic i ever read and by far, the most fukcgin hilarious. jesus CHRIST. theres just something subtly incredible about how the author uses phrasing to make every sentence as goddamn funny as they are. im really in love with the comma placement in this fic. every comma is exactly where it needs to be. every em dash is where it belongs. IM NOT MAKING SENSE, but i would send this fic to people as a prime example of narrative humor uplifted via phrasing and punctuation. just read this fic. it’s got Hank POV, Charles being a “strange lecherous Englishman”, Peter being a Teen, and everybody drags Erik’s fashion choices. 

Repeat After Me by queenieofaces [Yuri On Ice]

Victor learns language through mimicry, hears phrases and repeats them back until the inflection becomes second nature. Yuuri seems to communicate best through euphemism, through metaphor, through talking around the subject rather than approaching it head on, and so Victor tries his best to mimic him, to take his words and echo them back.

(Vignettes in language learning and communication, spanning the whole series.)

SO!! FUCKING!!! GOOD!!!!!!!! i think ive mentioned how much i LOVE LANGUAGE and this fic tackles the language barrier in a beautiful, earnest way. as a bilingual, this fic was just so so so good. victor is just bounding with love in this fic and the writing just feels so..,,,,warm.,,,,, 

OKAY i know you only asked for fic recs and not….all these rambles but. i just have a lot of love for fanfiction. fanfiction is so great. we are so lucky. we are so lucky. dont 4get to leave kudos and comments on fics you like! happy reading anon!!!

#ANG DAMI KONG SINABI HALA #asks #anon #long post #i love fanfiction so much