#go follow for the most satisfying deer art there is

[mywrittengartgallery]

PEDRI - Au bonheur des dames

Words : 4,8k

Warning : Fluff 

Summary : who thought wrapping books would lead you to meet him ? ( Part 1 of Une page d’amour )

☁️ 

“Thank you, have a nice day!”

You had been in this bookshop since 10 A.M and you were so tired of it. Alright, it was fun, at the beginning, wrapping Christmas presents here with your friends and collecting some money for the charity. However, it’s been ten days since you’ve began and you were fed up of standing and hurting your finger tips with the tape.  Don’t take it wrong, people here were amazing: always nice and curious of what everything was about, they also were pretty generous and you really were thankful of that. But the actual work was a nightmare now. At least, you were a lot more decent at wrapping than you were before. 

“Y/N, I’m taking a break, is that okay if you handle it for like five minutes?” asked your friend, with expectant eyes. Alright, you weren’t fond of the idea but she had been there every day with you and she was such a sweet soul, so you couldn’t refuse her anything. With a small smile, you nodded.

“Thank you! I was going crazy with all of these deers and trees!” she laughed while pointing at the wrapping paper. You could only agree with her, the pattern was hypnotizing and not in a good way, more like in a it would haunt you in your sleep like Despacito did way. She took her jacket and quickly made her way through the small crowds to the door. 

“Y/N, could you wrap this one please?” the bookshop’s employee asked while holding out a small book. You nodded and took it, analyzing the width of paper you would need. “She’s paying for some other books, so she will be there in like five minutes”, again you nodded. You cut the wrapping paper, placing the little blue book in the center and began to fold the corners so the presentation would be clean. You had already prepared some fragments of tape before, so you just had to stick them to hold all of your art together. 

“Hello!” 

You looked up, meeting warm eyes. She probably was the woman of the book, so you smiled. 

“Would you like me to talk to you about the charity for a bit?” you asked, trying to find a nice ribbon to put on top of the present. She agreed happily, already looking at the pictures you had put on a small table next to you.

---

“Ouch!” Pedri said just after colliding with some girl. She rolled her eyes and continued to walk towards the door. 

“What the hell?” he whispered to himself, quite shocked of the rudeness he had just received. 

“Some people are weird huh?” Fernando, Pedri’s brother, added.

“Yes...” he sighed while looking around. “What was the title again? I swear if they don’t have it here, I’m throwing myself under a bus...” 

“’Las delicias de las damas’ by Émile Zola” the oldest answered, also looking around. Fernando gently took some books, reading the summary on the back of the cover. “They should have it, it’s like one of the biggest bookshop in town...” Pedri nodded before going towards the big sign near the stairs, indicating every type of sections the shop had. 

“It’s on the third floor” he said to his brother, already climbing the stairs. Fernando followed him, giggling to himself: Pedri was really annoyed tonight, he thought. Sure, practice had been tough on him and he wasn’t satisfied with himself, but this added to the fact that he hadn’t bought their mother’s present yet so he had to rush it and the girl that bumped into him, it had put on him on edge. Fernando could understand, the poor guy was too calm and kept most of his annoyance to himself, favoring  diplomacy over futile discords. But everyone had a breaking point and he knew that Pedri was close to his. Though, his was way farer than he thought, he had believed the youngest would break when the employee at the last bookshop told him they didn’t have this book so he had to go search somewhere else. He hadn’t, he had just heavily sighed and went out, already trying to open his car. Fernando always found it funny when his brother was annoyed, it was unusual. 

They finally arrived on the third floor: it was full of shelves themselves full of books. Some looked pretty expensive with their leather covers and their golden titles, while some others were small with thin looking paper. He noticed that the lights had been dimmed, offering a warm glow that wasn’t too harsh on the eye. And even though he was annoyed, Pedri couldn't deny that this place was comforting in a way.  They went through the small aisles in order to reach the “French literature” section. It was on the far left, right next to the wide windows that offered a rare view of Barcelona. Pedri had rarely seen it like that, at night, lit by the streetlights and the Christmas decorations, with the sea cutting right through it, leaving behind a black slash. Fernando hummed, taking him out of his head. 

“I can’t find it...” his brother said, his voice soft. The athlete sighed and tried to also look around, but to his dismay, nothing stood out in the “Z” row. 

“We should probably ask someone” he declared, implicitly asking his brother to do it, but the oldest didn’t seem to catch the message. Why was everything going against him tonight ? He hated going around and asking people for things, normally it was his mom who did it, or his brother, well when they were younger at least. 

He tried to find someone who worked here, eyeing the desk near the stairs, the aisle, even the dark corridor on the other side. Nothing, no one and he thought that would be it. However, while strolling around the room, he finally caught sight of an employee who was kneeling in front a huge cardboard and rummaging through its content. He came closer, slightly coughing to make his presence known but the young man didn’t look up. 

“Hum... hello ?” he said, making the employee look up, eyebrows furrowed. “Would you happen to have ’Las delicias de las damas’ by Émile Zola ?” 

“It’s not my section, you should ask to someone else. Maybe at the ground floor? The workers at the checkouts should know.” 

---

“Would you like a gift wrapping ?” 

“Sure, why not ?”

“Y/N, another one please!” 

You took the  comics and chose a wrapping that was more adapted to kids and proceeded to cut it in the right dimensions. You had to go faster because many people were there and you didn’t want to slow the rhythm the cashiers had. It was hard to do it alone and your pair wasn’t back yet so you sort of were fuming inside. 

“Hi!” said the grandma, a wide smile on her face. “What is Sapanā ?” she asked, curious of the wide sign glued at the front of your worktable. 

“It means “Dream” in Nepali! Actually, it’s a charity made of med students, we are trying to collect funds in order to go to orphanages in Nepal.” You said passionately as you put the tape on the present. “We go there to give them vaccines, as well as some medical material that would be really useful!” 

She nodded, interested by each one of your words. She pointed at a red ribbon, mentioning to you that this was the one she wanted you to put on the present. You nodded, taking it. 

“Do you have activities with the kids there?”

Again, you nodded while taping the ribbon. “Sure, we teach them the first aid, we also do prevention especially against tobacco, and we try to teach them some Spanish for fun. We also take them on hikes to -”

“Excuse me!” a deep voice exclaimed, interrupting your rant. You had just finished your wrapping and were about to give it to the old woman but the way you had been called out had you confused and you didn’t know what to do with your hands. 

“Yes, you...” he sighed, seeming tired, but you didn’t take any notice as the client in front of you was looking expectantly at her purchase. But you should answer, right? You were asked something.

“Yes?” you said, voice unsure. 

“I want to know where-”

“Let me take this, also thank you for everything !” the grandma just had interrupted the young man and taken the present from your hands, leaving without donating a cent. You were more than lost, too much infos coming from everywhere. Another client was waiting for its wrapping and you saw the irritation on his face, but the man next to you looked as much, if not more, annoyed. 

“So, like I was saying, I want to know where I can find ’Las delicias de las damas’ by Émile Zola ?” he asked, voice pseudo neutral, pseudo since you were able to clearly identify the edge it held. You rolled your eyes, who was this guy?

“I don’t work here, sorry...” you hoped he would leave at that and go see a real employee, people were waiting.

“What?” he was apparently perplexed. “As if you don’t work here! Then what is this?” his tone was accusatory, as if he had caught you the hand in the cookie jar. The brunette was looking you up and down, frowning.

“Yes, I don’t. So, sorry I don’t know where your book is.” 

He laughed ironically and was about to leave, but not before whispering kind of loudly for you to hear a ‘sure, you just don’t want to do your job...’. What was his problem? Didn’t he have eyes? Your little stand had everything made for people to know that it wasn’t really attached to the bookshop. However, it wouldn’t end here, you, yourself, were also great at throwing spikes at people. 

“For the record, it’s ‘La delicia de las damas’. If you had tried to search with the right title, maybe you would have found it.” 

---

Fernando snickered next to Pedri who had been put in his place by the young woman. The athlete was blushing like crazy and his brother as well as the man, who had been waiting for his wrapping, laughing just added to the shame he was feeling. It wasn’t an awful mistake, but he hadn’t been the nicest to her and being called out like that just made him ridiculous. He gulped and quickly got away of the stand, favoring the queue a little farer, where he couldn’t see anyone. He would ask there and would finally be able to leave the horror movie this shop was. 

In the end, they didn’t have the book but they could order it. He would only have to pass by at the end of the week to collect it. He had agreed, too tired to wanting it right at the moment, plus it wouldn’t change anything. Christmas was next week. 

---

It was Thursday and the bookshop had sent him a text, telling him that the book had arrived. 

This day was a better day: practice had been good, him and Gavi had been put in the same team and they had won. Ansu had invited him to play some FIFA tonight and he had obviously agreed and the present for his mom was there. It was a consequently better day. 

They finished practice around 8 P.M, physically tired but everyone seemed mentally refreshed. They would do great on the upcoming games, they were sure of that. 

“See you tonight, Pedri !” exclaimed Ansu as he was going to his car, followed by Gavi who waved. The young midfielder still didn’t have his licence so he was entirely dependent on either his parents or his teammates, well most of the time Pedri himself. 

He waved back as he opened his car, getting in. The traffic was strangely smooth and practically no fans were waiting outside of the training center. He let out a sigh of relief and drove through Barcelona, passing by the wide shopping streets. In the end, he finally arrived in the calm district where the shop was. It was easy to park there during the week, not many people came by at least with their car. It was close enough of the center of the Catalan city for them to just walk there or they could take public transports easily.

The shop was lit by Christmas decorations that illuminated the street, garlands falling from the large windows and Christmas wreaths hooked just above the doors. It was nice he thought. 

He slowly walked in, holding the door for an old man who looked like he had been struggling with all his bags. It wasn’t packed, maybe because it was a Thursday or maybe because it was nearing 9 P.M, either way he liked it like that. There were no stressful vibes or hustle, just pure calmness with a strange coziness. He went to the desk where he had ordered the book last time and waited for the employee to come. He had seen him putting posters of concerts on a board, the man had noticed him, smiling, and had nodded to inform here he would be there soon. 

“Hello, what can I do for you?” he asked when he reached him. The man was probably in his forties, maybe a bit more? He wasn’t sure, but he seemed nice. He had a warm smile and patient eyes, plus he was wearing a red Santa hat that had twinkling stars. Pedri could only smile back, getting his phone out of his pocket to show him the receipt. 

“I had ordered this book the other day and I received a text to tell me it’s here, so here I am”.

The man nodded and typed on his keyboard, the keys making a loud noise each time he pressed them. 

“I’ll be back in a minute, its in the storage room.” the man said as he grabbed his badge and crossed the hall of the shop, opening a black door that had a sign ‘Staff Only’. He came back soon after, a large book in hand with its white cover and the shadow of a woman drawn on it. 

“Here it is!” he exclaimed, handing it to Pedri, his contagious smile still illuminating his face.

“Thanks.” he said, looking around the shop. He had already paid when he had ordered it, so he was free to got. However, something seemed to be missing. Then he saw the Christmas tree in the corner, standing right next to a table with glittery ribbons covering it and many rolls of wrapping paper in a box at its foot.

“Is it possible to like, wrap it?” he asked. The man smiled and nodded with such enthusiasm.

“Sure! Just go there and ask for it.” he pointed at the table Pedri had noticed before. “It’s not mandatory, but if I could ask you something, because you seem like a nice gentleman, is: could you donate a little bit ? Even one euro... it’s a charity that is there every year and they spend so much time and energy for their project, it breaks my heart when people don’t acknowledge it.” The youngster couldn’t deny it, the man was so passionate and he understood where he came from. Plus someone was going to work for him, in a way, so obviously he didn’t expect it to be free. “Also, the kid working right now is an angel, you will probably make her day!”

With that, Pedri said his goodbye with a smile and went to the table. But his smile quickly disappeared when he saw the person sitting down behind the same table, cutting fragments of tape. He wasn’t sure he was going to make your day, he thought. 

“Hum..” he said, unsure. That was going to be so damn awkward. He had been an ass to you the other day and you had humiliated his knowledge in front of everyone. Saying that your dynamic wasn’t the best was an understatement. His small sound had brought you out of you focus and had made you look up, a confused expression plastered on your face.

“Oh... Hello.” you said, trying to keep a neutral tone. You were waiting for something. Should he apologize? He couldn’t read your mind, he wished he could? What should he do?

“I’m sorry!” he threw, eyes wide. That was probably what you wanted to hear.

“What?” alright, you seemed more confused than before? What the hell was he doing?

“Huh, the other day? I’m sorry, for how I acted.” he tried again, gaining a look of recognition and a sigh. You nodded, whispering a small ‘it’s okay’. Then he saw you, still sitting there with expecting eyes. Was it not enough? He raised an eyebrow, not sure what to say.

“Do you need me to wrap the book?” you finally said, pointing at the object he was holding. He gaped and a blush took possession of his cheeks. He shyly nodded and handed it to you, clearly embarrassed. Why was he acting so dumb? What he didn’t see though was the small grin of amusement that had taken residence on your face.  You cut a relatively large stripe of writing paper: a blue one with snowflakes that had this cute holographic effects on them. You tried to be neat, perfectly folding the angles and creating square endings. You put the small pieces of tape on the back of the paper, where the two ends met, then on the top and bottom parts. 

“So, you really don’t work there?” he asked, fiddling with his fingers. You couldn’t see his face, but the small action made you understand that the boy was nervous. “I mean, I know that, the man that works here told me. It’s a charity, right?” he was babbling at this point. You tried so hard to hide your grin but it was impossible, well he was really different from the other day.

“Yes, it is. It’s called Sapanā, it means “dream” in Nepali... we are group of med students and yeah, we are trying to collect some funds for our projects.” while describing your job there, you had put the silver ribbon on and you were currently curling the ends of it. 

“It’s nice!” he said. He was still nervous, were you that scary? 

“I’m sorry too... It was a little bit condescending to call you out like that in front of everyone. It wasn’t that dumb of a mistake.” you apologized because he had apologized, but you weren’t very sincere, what could you say? You were the resentful type! But the boy seemed like he needed it with how stressed he looked, he was going to also stress you out if this continued. 

He laughed, a small one, but still a laugh and shook his head. “I deserved it, I think” you wholly agreed with him, but you wouldn’t tell him. “So you’re a med student?” 

“Yes” 

“Impressive!” he said, seeming so genuine. You blushed, feeling seen and acknowledged. You didn’t even know why, your circle had always said how proud they were of you for throwing yourself in such hard studies. People were generally impressed when you told them what you were studying. He seemed more genuine, that was probably why. 

---

“You’re late bro!” Ansu said, faking annoyance as he opened the door.

“Sorry, had to collect my present for my mom at the bookshop.” Pedri said, showing the small white bag he was holding, a faint red hue on his cheeks. It was the cold. Not due to the girl his age that had wrapped his present and was kind of cute and who he had made a fool of himself in front of and thinking of the bookshop automatically brings him to think about her and therefore making some weird emotions arise. No. It was the cold of Barcelona. 

The slightly older of the two opened wider the door and mentioned him to enter. Pedri obliged, taking off his shoes and smiling to himself when he heard Gavi screaming because Ferran had probably scored. 

---

“Man, I didn’t get anything to my mom yet! I’m screwed!” whined Gavi, sprawled on Pedri’s couch. Practice was in an hour but the younger was bored, so he had invited himself over Pedri’s place. At this point, they should just become roommates. 

“Gavi! Christmas is in two days!” he knew that the boy will just graft himself on the present his sister had gotten. So invested right?

“I can’t even put my name on what my sister had gotten her! She like, booked a massage in the new spa that opened in Seville and they absolutely have to try it!” he mimicked his sister, apparently, using a high voice and an accent that clearly wasn’t his. “Bro, do I look like someone who buys that?” no. Not at all.

“So, what you wanna get her?” Pedri knew that Gavi had only started thinking about it this morning. At this point he had inflicted it upon himself. 

“I called my dad this morning, he said that she had seen this new book about biology or whatever, he said I could get that...” he sighed, toying with his phone. “But, like a book ? Really?” 

“It’s my gift for my mom, I mean I’ve gotten a book” the older shrugged. A tiny bubble had rose in his chest, if Pablo had to purchase a book, well...

“Should I do that?” he clearly seemed reluctant. Pedri had to push, he knew it. 

“Do you really have another choice?”

---

Practice had ended, and with an entire day of convincing Gavi that a book was the greatest idea of the century, here they were, inside the bookshop that Pedri had assured was the best of the town. 

They were searching for the infamous book Gavi’s dad had sent the reference to his son. The younger came back, a large book in his hands, and a small smile plastered on his face. Pedri let out a sigh of relief, thanking god for allwoing the shop to have it. 

They went back to the groundfloor, waiting for the couple before them to pay. There wasn’t any queue: again it was a Thursday after 8 P.M, just like the week before, so the calm had taken over the place. 

“Eighty-five euros for a book though, isn’t that a bit expensive?” Pablo said, a bit bitter. Oh, god, Pedro so wanted to laugh.

“It won’t change anything on your bank account man!” 

“Still!” the younger whined. 

They finally were facing the cashier who smiled, a knowing smile on his face. He had recognized them, but he was decent enough to not say anything apart of him liking watching them play and being a big supporter of the FCB. They thanked him and Gavi payed.

“Also, could I get some of that wrapping paper?” he asked pointing at the counter behind the employee. “I still have to wrap it, well she will just have to be content with the effort, I can’t make miracles happen...” he whispered to Pedri. Pablo was so embittered all the time, it was funny to see it on such a young person. 

“Oh, they can wrap it there, they did it last time!” he said, a little bit too excited for his usual self. Gavi raised an eyebrow but shrugged, not paying attention to his weird behavior. 

“Can’t be worst than what I was about to do” he made a sign to the cashier, telling him to drop the paper. He took the book and followed Pedri who went to the table, still next to the Christmas tree.

“Hi” the oldest said. You looked up, surprised to see him. You bit back a grin, which you noted you were doing a lot in his presence. 

“Hi” you returned, getting up from your chair, then turning to the young man with him, throwing him a smile. “This must be your new favorite place ?” you teased. He blushed, letting out a little laugh. This was the second laugh you had taken out of him. Not like you were counting. Why were you noticing things like that? What?

“You two know each other?” Pablo asked, eyebrows furrowed, curiosity clear on his face. 

“Huh, yes, kind of? She was the one who wrapped my mom’s present” he quickly declared, as if knowing her was crime. Now Gavi was clearly suspicious but he didn’t say anything. He knew keeping silence would give him so much more answers with Pedri. 

You laughed a little and eyed the book the younger one was holding. you were trying to cut through the weird atmosphere by subtly changing the subject but he didn’t seem to notice. The other had though.

“Your book, Gavi.” 

“Ah, yes!” he placed it on the table, in front of you. The remaining paper you had seemed too short so you took another roll, unrolling it and gauging how much you needed. It wasn’t the fastest you had been but you didn’t really care. On the contrary, at the moment you felt like taking your time. Well, the supposedly Gavi, seemed bored so he had left you let you do your stuff and went to watch the tree, mesmerized by the huge ornaments, some red, some golden. 

“You’re always there?” the older asked as he absentmindedly played with the edge of one of the pictures you had pinned on the table to promote the charity. 

“Yep, well I shouldn’t be but my friend who is supposed to do it with me has the habit to forget or just doesn’t have the courage to show up anymore... So here I am.” 

“That sounds awful.” he didn’t know if he could laugh or not but you gaped and looked right at him.

“It’s not like she doesn’t do anything! She came, at first but now she favors the inside work, like promoting it on the campus or managing the finances, things like that!” you had described her horribly, she sounded the worst. She was just in a bad phase, let’s say that. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to report her anything!” he reassured, bringing his hands up in surrender. You chuckled, why were you overthinking so much tonight? 

“She’s just not the best to inform people when she changes her plan...” you finally declared. He nodded, seeming to understand. 

“There is always the go-ahead type and the thinker one in a duo, right?”

You squinted your eyes at him, a smirk appearing on your face.

“I conclude then that you are the thinker of the two?” you asked, moving your gaze between him and the shorter one still entranced by the glittering garland.

“It shows ?”

“A little” you laughed with him who tried to be low-key with it, not wanting to attract Gavi’s attention. How wrong could that be, the boy was more clever than Pedri thought because while the two of you were lovingly discussing, he was listening, discretely watching you. God, both of you were so obvious. He rolled his eyes while lightly shoving with his index one of the red ball hanging in front of him. 

“Gosh, I don’t have ribbons anymore, could you pass me the one next to you ?” you asked, scissors in hand. However he shrugged, taking them from your hands and cutting himself the silver strip. He looked focused and you couldn’t deny that he was cute and he was trying his best and it was adorable. He handed his creation to you, a tiny rictus rising the corner of his lips. Alright, you were blushing. 

“Thank you...”

“Pedro, well Pedri, I prefer Pedri.” 

You nodded, eventually meeting his brown eyes, under the lights they looked like they were sparkling. You swallowed, a little disturbed.

“Y/N” you had whispered. He looked just as dazed as you. 

“Here, the book.” you said, why were your cheeks hot ? He took it, his hand grazing yours, that was too much. You retrieved it quickly, chuckling to hide your embarrassment. “We should see each other again, sometimes.”

What the fuck?!

Why did you just say that? Where did the bravery come from? You prepared yourself for the rejection, which was the most logical thing to happen, you had seen the guy like three times and for like ten minutes. No one in their right mind would accept it.

“Sure” he said, trying to hide his smile. 

---

“Bro!”

“What?”

“Bro!” exclaimed Gavi, giggling like a gossiping school girl. Pedri was furiously blushing but the boy couldn’t contain his smile.

“Bro!”

☁️  

I hope you liked it! English isn’t my first language so I hope I didn’t make too many mistakes!

Don’t be shy and tell me what you thought of it.

#Pedri #pedri imagine #pedri fic #fc barca #fcb #spanish nt #gavi #football #ferran #ansu fati #la liga #fluff #imagine #christmas #fanfic #Pablo gavi #pedro gonzalez

[runwithwolvcs]

You Know I'm No Good - forty four

I Tried To Call

Thirty days. 

That's all  the time she had left with Paul until Tallulahs packing up and heading off to New York. It still felt so surreal. Like a dream she didn’t want to wake up from.

She had spent the weekend with her mom, visiting her aunt in Port Angeles and doing some back to school shopping. Though it looked a little different this year, considering all she needed now was art supplies.

Paul was still focused on his rounds, keeping her in the dark about whatever lurks beyond the treelines in La Push. He still maintains that he wants their relationship to feel as normal as possible, as if an eighteen year old should be practically living with a twenty seven year old. She doesn’t need normal, she just needs him to be able to talk to her when he gets stressed and needs an outlet other than her body. He wont have that when she's at school and that makes her nervous.

Tallulah wanted to make it back to his house for when he gets home, to sit him down and demand he treats her like an adult, rather than a child who can’t handle the truth.

Following the familiar road to Paul's house, she noticed something in the road from a distance only realising what it was as she sped closer.

Gasping, she hit the brakes hard. Her car came to a screeching halt as she tried to regain control of her breathing. 

Looking at the deer laying in the middle of the road, she began to freak out. The only logical thing she could think of doing was calling Paul. She knew he had patrol and was most likely out there now, but she had to try anyway.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up.”She said nervously as she waited for him to answer, only to be met with his voicemail, “Fuck, don’t say I didn’t try to call you.” 

Deciding to check on the deer, she parked her car and turned it off. Keeping her phone in her hand just in case Paul calls her back. She hoped he would call her back. Tallulah didn't know what she was going to do to help the deer, but she didn't want to leave it in the middle of the road to get hit by another car.

Cautiously walking up to the deer, not wanting to spook it.

“Hey there..” she said quietly, as she knelt beside it, she gasped at the gash in its neck, bringing her hand to her mouth as tears quickly filled her eyes. The deer was clearly suffering and she had no idea how to help it. Pulling out her phone to try and reach Paul again the sound of a branch snapping had her head whipping to look at the other side of the road. There stood a pale faced girl with long curly black hair  and red eyes. Her clothes were bloodied with what Tallulah presumed to be from the injured animal before her.

“It’s a shame isn't it?” The woman's lips formed a cruel smile as she took a step towards her.

Tallulah's breath was shaky, as she tried to unlock her phone again, standing up straight with her eyes not leaving the woman before her.  I should scream, Paul will hear me, she thought,

Almost as if she could hear Tallulah's thoughts,  she moved faster than Tallulah's eyes could keep up with, pinning her to a tree by her neck causing her to gasp in shock as the wind was knocked out of her. 

The rough tree bark scraped her bare shoulders and legs as she struggled against the woman's grip.

“It wasn’t as satisfying as they said it would be..” The girl spoke, her voice sounded like velvet to Tallulah ears, “Maybe one of those wolves roaming the woods would be a better choice.”

Paul. He was the only thing she was thinking of, was this the vampire that had hurt him? 

“No!” Tallulah squirmed trying to kick the vampire away from her, only for her grip to tighten causing her to cry out in pain. 

“No? Then I guess you’ll have to do then, darling.” Her red eyes looked so sinister. The contrast of her cold hands made her heart race, unlike Pauls, which have only ever provided her comfort.

“Paul!” she screamed as loud as she could only to be tossed to the ground like a rag doll,

“You stupid girl!,” The vampire shrieked, standing above her, “Nobodies coming to help you.”

Her breathing was heavy as she was picked up like she weighed nothing, “Please!” she begged, “They’ll kill you if you kill me, I’m not worth it.”

Tallulah could feel the blood dripping down her forehead and she prayed that Paul or one of the other boys had heard her scream. “Oh, yes you are.” she said, wiping the blood from her skin, and licking her finger, practically moaning, “I’ll make this quick,”.

A growl sounds from the treeline and a wolf she doesn’t recognize comes out into the road. The wicked grin returns to the paleface as she goes to bite Tallulah. She braces herself for the pain that never comes, instead she's been bulldozed from the opposite direction, out of the arms of the leech and tossed across the gravel road, scraping the arm she lands on to shreds. 

Recognizing Paul's wolf immediately as he comes out the trees, his teeth snarling as he looks at the vampire with angry eyes. His eyes land on Tallulah and slightly soften but as the woman smells the blood making another run at her, Paul gets to her before she can even get close to Tallulah. Tossing her back into a tree where the boys who have just arrived grab her body, dragging  her into the forest leaving Tallulah with Jared and Paul. Jared goes into the nearby trees and Paul phases in front of her rushing to her side as she shakes in fear and pain. Now she realises why Paul reacted the way he did about Seattle.

“You’re okay, Lu.” He spoke quietly, as if he would spook her before pulling her into his naked body.

“Pants” She choked out through her tears.

He chuckled, “Nothing you haven't seen before” He pressed a kiss to her forehead before looking at the cut on her hair line and then her shoulders. His gaze hardened once he fixated on her arm, the blood dripping onto the rocky road, “You need stitches.”

Using the shorts tied to his ankle, Paul pressed the fabric against her would, mumbling a soft sorry as she winced in pain.

Jared comes out of the tree line, thankfully wearing shorts. He tells Paul, “I'll take her Forks General. You go help the boys and meet us there.”

“No!” Tallulah cried, gripping Paul's forearm with her non-injured arm, “I don’t like hospitals.”

It was ironic that she was begging not to be taking to get help considering how badly she fought for Paul to see Dr. Cullen, his enemy by nature.  Asking him if he would have called Dr. Cullen for her if she had needed it, had been her main argument, but in hindsight, Tallulah most likely would have refused the help too. Too stubborn for her own good.

“Baby, I’ll beat you there, okay? I promise.” Paul said, bringing his hand up to cup her cheek. She shook her head as if to say don't go, the thoughts of something happening to him flooding her mind, “I need pants, Lu.” He tried to joke, and she sighed before pressing her lips to his gently. Just in case.

Paul helped her up, using her body as a cover just in case another car came down the road. Tallulah struggled to keep her eyes above his waist, she wanted to laugh at the situation but the injured deer still laying on the road near them brought her back to reality.

“Can you help it?” she asked quietly, looking up at Paul who was frowning down at her. That was his answer. The tears continued to flow from her eyes, at the thought of its suffering. A brutal, inhumane way to die. 

Helping her into the passenger seat of her car, making sure she was putting enough pressure on her arm, “I’ll see you soon,”

She nods and watches as he shuts the door for her, giving Jared a small nod before phasing back into his grey wolf. She was still mesmerised by him. Paul rarely lets her see him in his wolf form, and when she does, it usually has a negative event attached to it.

A loud screeching sound from deep in the woods breaks her train of thought, “Can we go?” she asked with alarm, looking towards Jared.

Nodding and turning on the ignition, Jared agrees with her, “That sounds like a good idea.”

--

Tallulah wasn’t shy to critique Jareds driving on the way to the hospital. Telling him her grandma drove faster than him, to which he responded with, “You’re already hurt, if I crash this car Paul will seriously implode and then rip me to shreds.”

“You’re driving under the speed limit,” she griped, she just wanted to see Paul again. To make sure that he was okay, that the woman hadn’t laid a hand on him like she had threatened.

As soon as they pulled into the small parking lot, Tallulah unbuckled her seatbelt. Much to Jareds dismay as he grumbled for her to wait until the car had stopped moving., Pauls already there waiting, with pants and a shirt on it. He was quick to spot her car, making his way to them and opening the passenger door.

“I called your dad.” he says, as he helps Tallulah out of the car. The shorts he had given her to slow the bleeding of her arm now soaked with blood.

“Now why would you do that,” She groaned, holding on to him as she felt woozy from the loss of blood. His arm sneaks around her waist, holding her up.

“Because he hates me enough as it is, if I didn’t tell him his daughter was attacked by a bloodsucker he would never let me see you again.” Paul pointed out, and she knew it was true.

“As if he could stop me.” She scoffed, “You’re stuck with me for the rest of your life, duckie.”

“Gladly.” He pressed his lips to her head before ushering her inside to get looked at.

-----

Tallulah heard Joseph before she saw him, his booming voice carrying in from the hallway as he spoke to a nurse.

When he rushed into her hospital room, his eyes found Tallulah first, letting her know that her mom was on the way as well. She fought the urge to roll her eyes, it wasn’t the big of a deal. Paul was really the only person she wanted with her. The feeling of safety blanketed her with just one single touch from him

Looking at Paul next, Joseph nearly growls, “what the fuck happened?”

“Dad. it's not his fault.” Tallulah argued with her father, not liking the look or tone he was giving Paul.

“I told you-” Joseph starts, ignoring his daughter. He steps closer to Paul, and she knows this won't end well. If both of them end up getting kicked out of the hospital for fighting, she was going to lose it. Screaming, crying, the works. 

“You think I wanted this to happen?” Paul asked back angrily, placing a hand on her fathers shoulder, keeping him from getting any closer. It was like she wasn’t even in the room

“Boys, let's play nice, shall we?” The female doctor says as she walks in. Finally someone with sense, Tallulah thought.

“Now what happened here?” She asked, taking a look at her head and arm that the nurse before her had kindly cleaned up and sterilised.

Tallulah lied effortlessly, having had more than enough time to think of one while they waited in the emergency room, “I slipped while hiking, alone.”

“Where were you hiking,” The doctor asked curiously, dabbing her wounds with an unknown substance that made her wince.

“Bow Falls,” Tallulah named the only hiking trail she knew of in La Push.

“The rocks there are quite slippery, you're lucky it's just your arm that's pretty banged up. .”

The doctor wasted no time stitching her up and before leaving to go see her next patient, letting her know that she could leave once a nurse fills her prescription for pain medication, citing that they would help her sleep.

“Are you going to tell me what really happened?” her dad asked once they were alone again and Paul let out a scoff, already knowing the story she had told him quietly before the doctor arrived.

“Scoff all you want Paul, but I would’ve done the same thing with or without you,” Tallulah brought up. 

“Lulah?” Her dad asks impatiently.

“I was driving to Pauls and I saw an injured deer on the road. I stopped to check on it and that's when she came out. “ Adding quickly, ” One of the boys knocked me out of the way and I cut my arm, no big deal.”

“Lulah,” her dad groaned, “it is a big deal. Why would you stop for a deer anyways?”

“I just wanted to help it.” Her eyes welled up with tears, the aftershock wearing off of the situation. “I’m sorry..”

“Lu.” Paul's voice softened as he was quick to move closer to her, his hand cupping her cheek as he knelt before her, “It’s okay. You just wanted to help, maybe, if there is a next time, you help the animal by calling a professional, hm?”

“I called you.” She murmured quietly, and he nodded in acknowledgment. 

“I know, baby. I’ll figure out a way to keep my phone near me, okay?” Paul caressed her cheek, but leave it to her father to interrupt a sweet moment between the two imprints.

“The tick?” Joseph asked, clearly directed at Paul. Back to being invisible, she thought to herself. Leaning her head on Paul's shoulder, exhaustion taking over her worn out body.

“Dead and buried.” Tallulah couldn’t help but cringe at Pauls choice of words.

“Good.” Her dad says with conviction, “You’re staying at mine tonight, Lulah. Both of you.”

“Dad,” She groaned. Not this  again.

“No buts, if that leech has friends around they won't be scared to come on our land. I want eyes on you and your sisters all night. Your mom can come too.”

“I agree, if she's got a mate nearby, you’re their target.”Paul tells her. She wants to call him a traitor for taking her dad's side, but she doesn’t. She knows he's still on edge, she can feel it.

“If! There's no guarantee.” She argued back, the wolves probably scared the others away. If there were even others around. 

“No arguing, Lulah.” Her father spoke sternly, she wanted to gripe at him, but Paul was in agreement

 with Joseph and that was a battle she should lose.

She frowns, and looks at Paul, “Will you be coming too?”

He grimaces at her tone, the sadness clear, “I’ll talk to Sam.”

An onslaught of tears came again. Paul goes to hug her but Tallulah  shakes head as a pang of dread fills her chest again. This felt different from the last time she was forced on lockdown by her father.

---

Tallulah must have fallen asleep on the floor by the window, waiting for Paul to come through. The thought of sleeping without him had seemed impossible, scared of what her dreams would hold for her but the doctor was right. The pain medication did help her fall asleep a lot faster than she thought they would. As warm arms pick her up, she nestles in closer trying to soak it all up, staying in a dream-like state as she is moved to her bed.

“How bad is it?” Joseph asked quietly once Paul had tucked in Tallulah. Pressing a soft kiss to her forehead but all warmth was taken from her.

“A coven, two maybe three more.” Paul spoke with zero emotion, like he was currently living on automatic,“The scents are familiar.”

“The Cullens allies?” Tallulah's eyes opened wide at the mention of the Cullens. She had only ever heard about the family a few times, nothing good from Paul but Dr. Cullen seemed nice. At least as nice as a vampire could be.

“At least one is. The one we killed today wasn’t.” Paul informs her dad.

“Hm. Keep me updated will you?” Joseph asks, now having three daughters that could potentially be brought into this world of supernatural beings.

“Of course.” 

“She’ll be safer in New York, even you should know that.”

“Doesn’t make this easier.” Paul grumbled

“I get it, kid. I let her leave once before, and I've regretted it ever since” Her father spoke thoughtfully, “She’ll resent you if you don't let her see for herself that La Push is where she belongs.”

“I know.” Paul says softly, and in the moment she wants to rescind her acceptance. To stay with him and live happily ever after in La Push, or at least try to.

Her father tells him, “Try and get some sleep,” and she feels as if she's missing something, a silent conversation between the two men must have occurred if her father was being kind to Paul.

“And Paul?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.” Joseph genuinely tells her imprint before all light from her room disappears.

Paul climbs into bed with her. Even going so far as to get underneath the comforter he had laid on her.A sign that he was planning on staying the night. Careful of her cuts and bruises as he kisses her bare shoulder, he mumbles against her skin, “I love you.”

He knows she's woken up, she turns to face him carefully, “I love you too.”

“How much did you hear?” He asks quietly, moving his fingers through her hair soothingly.

She shakes her head, cuddling into him  enough so that she can hear his heartbeat and so that it can lull her back to sleep. She didn't care to question their conversation, she just wanted to be held by him as the days counted down to her departure.

#paul lahote fanfic #you know im no good #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote #paul lahote x oc #twilight wolf pack #twilight wolves #twilight

[darkwyverness]

Dreams Of The Wanderer

Outside the window, the sky appears cloudy and grey, but when I turn the pages of the book, I can leave this location and go somewhere else without using a vehicle. I was just able to slink under the cozy blanket and take in the traveler's lovely sight story.

I do hope to travel the world someday. a person, like Lara Croft or Indiana Jones, who makes an unexpected discovery. I really want to go kayaking on the river and be surrounded by nature. I also want to visit an abandoned tomb or some ruins, sit down, and then draw those structures. Inside the oldest library or a person's home, whose owner doesn't mind if I remove it, I might find the ancient script from the past. I might be able to merely scan it or take a picture if the owner never allowed me to take it or even buy it. The script will then be printed and read at home by me after that.

Aside from that, I do wish I could breathe while lying on the grass and enjoying the wind's breeze while being surrounded by the wild flowers that will soon be used to adorn my grave. Additionally, I wished to experience lovely moments with wonderful people in wonderful settings while listening to a fine symphony through my headphones. What a beautiful day!

However, if the Lord gave me the strength to engage in such extreme activities, I would have loved to have been able to fly from the summit of the mountain, participate in a flying fox, go horseback riding while lost in the woods, hunt deer with a bow and arrow, make my own weapon, carry a large satchel on my back, and pack all of my art supplies and a journal. Even if it wasn't an artistic style like my own, the polaroid would be my closest friend if it was too heavy to bring many resources.

But above all, I want the courage to handle everything on my own. Even though I always fail and make mistakes, I do attempt to be autonomous because living is a journey.

They say that life is short. And they were indeed correct. Not here is bliss. Earth is this. Earth is the place where people like us discover information, pursue their lives' goals, and take a seat to briefly pray to God. Like before, I have to live by remembering my God. Without, I doubt I could move about or survive. And perhaps God had a purpose in bringing me here.

God wanted me to learn something, therefore I rationalize that there are many things out there for me to learn. God also wanted me to experience emotion. There is a message concealed within the poem, the truth behind the historical account, and a remake moment from the storyteller who wants me to experience the same emotions as they did and to have a heart-to-heart dialogue with someone who is searching for the same thing I am. Even yet, I gradually became someone who desired exploration.

I wander alone since I'm a loner. A historian who visits various monuments. an artist who moves about from place to place. a generous poet who enjoys hearing from others. An introverted writer who draws inspiration for their stories from their observations of the world around them. an individual who seeks education, joy, inspiration, and goodwill.

Unfortunately, I might hurt myself if I try to accomplish this alone. Eventually, many people had previously warned me about how risky being by myself was. How risky it is to be alone anywhere—in the movies, in the lobby, among people, on a pitch-black road at night, etc. The most depressing truth was that no one else enjoyed what I did. Instead, they advise me to follow their preferences so I can join their group. That, however, is the falsehood. Lying to myself that I’m okay doing what people like. They happy if I was helping them but no one knows how to make me happy as always beside making a cliché jokes or silly things around. The things are I never happy around the people because I lie to myself again.

During the time that all of my wishes came true, I was roaming. Perhaps if I took a step by going somewhere by myself, they would be satisfied with what I had done. When will I accomplish it, though? I have how many budgets? What are the possibilities for this life?

No response.

And everyone will keep critiquing my concepts and aspirations.

Maybe on another day, when I had sufficient financial, intellectual, and physical fortitude to move on my own far from this prison. For that reason, I hold onto this item for so long that I lose track of who I really am. I read here while hiding under the blanket. painting while seated at a table or on the floor. laying on the bed, thinking while listening. Next, I write. As I sleep, I record what I witnessed in my dream. I had a dream that I was around the world and flying foxing to abandoned buildings. Without knowing that, I'm not sure where I am.

#writers #writer #writers on tumblr #a poet #poetry #wanderlust #wandere #wanderingsoul

[drewkopp]

Burning Out: A Dramatic Monologue - Part 3: Cooldown

I’d love to get some feedback on this piece and the other two parts that follow, which were written as part of a collab between my local writer’s group and the local theater group. I’d specifically like to know if I captured the narrator’s psychopathy through their voice and if their character arc is clear. Each part has to be under 500 words.

Dear Diary

…Hey.

I’m sorry I left you to gnaw on that little cliffhanger for a few months, but I’ve been too busy to check in with you.

A lot’s changed since we last spoke, but one thing’s stayed the same: I still don’t feel like putting other people’s property to the torch.

Don’t worry; my creative juices haven't gone dry or anything. My art’s just taken a bit of a new form, that’s all.

Molotov’s helping me shear away my artist’s block. You remember Molotov, right? The punk I kidnap- removed from an unsafe situation? Yeah, them

Neither of us ended up frozen because Molotov made magic happen with a bottle of hand sanitizer they swiped from the refugee center’s bathroom. Their technique was still mediocre, but I didn't mind giving them a pointer or two. Last week, they got our campfire going with nothing but a stick, a handful of dry leaves, and a dictionary so soaked that the only words I could read from it were  “Hope,” “Springs,” “Eternal,” and “Marmalade.”

Molotov also came up with the idea of selling fire. Huh. Writing that didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would.

We were passing through the skeleton of what I think used to be Saskatoon when we ran into a herd of ex-frat boys trying to turn their three-seater sofa into a cooking fire by using a shattered Budweiser bottle as a magnifying glass. 

My apprentice offered to help them get a blaze going if they shared a bit of the deer they wanted to grill up. Did you know Deer Heart Salad is a thing? I didn’t. Yet another fascinating nugget of Molotov wisdom.

Being a fire merchant scratches my artistic itch better than I thought. If you’d told me that most people don’t know how to start a fire before the apocalypse, I wouldn’t have believed you. It doesn't matter which direction Molotov and I wander; we always find at least one poor smuck who doesn't know how to relive their ancient ancestor’s greatest triumph.

It’s a pretty satisfying dopamine cycle, honesty: Molotov and I meander around until we find some poor soul whose mind has not yet been opened to the ways of pyromancy, then we hook them up if they can match our prices. 

Even when we don’t stumble upon any customers, lighting a campfire and sitting under the stars with Molotov makes me feel like I’ve done something right. I’m almost okay with counting my anti-hypothermia fires as art.

…Almost.

I think I’ve finally realized why I lost my mojo. My work… it’s an act of rebellion. Before, it was a rebellion against a civilization that decided by lottery whether or not people were worth taking care of. Now, it’s a rebellion against the ignorance that civilization allowed to fester.

Being a fire merchant should be enough to keep me busy.

At least until civilization thinks it’s safe to come out of hiding.

#showyourwork #writing #blog #theatre #theater

[patchies]

Shadows

Pairing: Dream x Reader x ???

Summary: An apocalyptic world where creatures of the night roam all around it. Searching for living beings to satisfy their hunger. Vicious creatures they are. It’s said that one person called upon their wrath in revenge. You awake in this place with another human being at your side. No memories whatsoever of the life you’ve had prior to coming here. In search of a way out, and your memories, you stumble upon multiple people with many personalities. Some can’t wait to meet you. If you take it the friendly or hostile way is up to you, but worry not… Nothing can hurt you. Or can it, now?

Warnings: none that I can think of

Word Count: 2.8+k

Author's note: hi, hi, hi! I bring you a new chapter after what... 1 and a half months of not uploading anything? My apologies are probably not enough, but I have been working on chapters, I promise! And, drum roll, please, I might have some art in store for this series. It isn't done, yet, but I'm trying to work on it, guys!

Wattpad link: here

story masterlist - main masterlist

previous ↣ current ↣ following

Chapter 4: Forming Friendship

As the sun starts off the next day, you and Nick depart from your home in search of more resources. He throws in a suggestion that you should spread out, so you could cover more ground, and you agree- not like you have anything else to do for the meantime. Unless you want to be stuck at home playing some card games Nick had found while searching for the paint buckets.

You search the places south, just outside the town. All the buildings look the same to your wondering eyes, nothing valuable piquing your interest that much, so you rather opt for wandering further. Through the greenery until a clearing reveals itself before you.

A beautiful and elegant meadow stretches across the horizon. As if a page was torn from a fairy-tale book, and rightfully so. The only thing missing is a royal castle or fairies' houses. Pollen flies in the air and swirls around you enchantingly and a surge of calmness goes through your being. An accommodation in your body along with the feeling of delight.

The nature has truly taken over most of the world.

It's not like you can complain, really. Colours, textures and elements flow with each other in a beautiful harmony, creating an almost painting-like picture that you can marvel at.

Deep down, you were always a fan of the quietness Mother nature has offered you at times in need. Whenever you felt down, really.

You slightly remember how it helped you with your anxiety, shyness and depression when you used to be socially awkward and unwilling to do something about it. It felt peaceful compared to the continuous pressure many people used to put on you. Not many people were harsh on you, but your social battery could take so much until all you were ready to do was just lie down, put on a playlist of your favourite songs and chill. They denied your want to be left alone when the only thing you needed was space and your own time. Their faces are now blurry images of faces you once used to know, but you don't know if you'll ever get back to your life or how long it might take.

I should throw away my pessimistic thoughts…

That was a part of the old you, though. You'd like to think that you're better now, but your pessimism has stayed with you nonetheless. It's about time you started working on it and who knows? You might get to form plenty friendships here who will be willing to help you.

With a shake of your messy hair, you focus back to the beauty in front of you, pushing the vines away and walking towards the flowery meadow.

Yellow grains contrast gorgeously with the sparse greenery the field has to offer here and there.

You bent down and pluck one of the many Dahlias near your feet, putting the pistil close to your nose.

Sniff, sniff, sniff

The flower alone doesn't smell alluring or sweet, like anything. The stem and leaves, on another note, smell bitter with a slight flowery undertone. It strikes a sense of serenity in you as you inspect the innocent white petals be carried away from you by the wind, flying off to the clear sky to join the fine powdery substance.

You let go of the stem and watch it be snatched, following its trace until it falls between the loads of flowers.

Just then, a gentler breeze begins and takes a handful of leaves of the ground, aiming just below a small hill to your left as if it had a mind of its own. You realize that it might actually do as it points you to a lone building sitting at the base, overflown with the finest flora you've ever faced.

A mere bookshop from what you can see from the distance. The walls are built from brick and it still seems in a decent shape, except the nature, but that gives it a special charm. A great place to get away from all this chaotic and death-threating events for even a while.

You carefully move through the grass and blossoms, trekking your way up to it.

• • •

Meanwhile, somewhere far away from you, a deer curiously, yet cautiously, examines you from a cliffside looking over the whole meadow. Its doe eyes flick from you to a small fawn by its side.

It huffs, shakes its head and turns, departing into the forest.

• • •

The inside is wondrous, despite your expectations of it being completely trashed.

Bookshelves line the walls and are all filed with all styles of literature. Slightly used, torn and unkept. It gives you an idea how no one surely visits this place. The place looks great, so it doesn't make much sense to you. You cannot help but be a little happy over the fact at that despite the telling signs of its abandonment.

Your hand automatically lifts up to slide over the spines of the books, keeping your touch light as you advance further inside. The rough, yet extremely soothing, texture extracts a small smile from you and you close your eyes. You begin dragging your other appendage across the parallel shelf until a thud makes you shoot your eyes open in alert, whipping your head behind you, but finding nothing out of ordinary.

With your now unsure footsteps, you slowly walk to the end of the aisle in front of you, peeking around the corner.

You catch sight of a short boy sitting in front of a shelf, or rather a stand, with comic books. He's sat down near the middle where the wooden stand is, flipping through each comic with haste.

A messy brown nest of hair sits atop his head while a flower crown with some scarce plastic bees thrown in reasts atop and a long green scarf messily wrapped around his neck. It strangely compliments his look that is styled with green, golden and black and despite the apocalyptic surroundings and lack of proper resources, you're surprised he's styled it very prettily.

A black stylish coat with golden accents is thrown on the floor near him along with his messenger bag, its contents peeking out. Especially the thick book with a pack of pencils. You wonder what the book contains, but maybe you'll get a chance to see it sometime.

You cautiously and carefully lean against a counter near you, observing the young boy as he shuffles through numerous comics. He huffs out a long sigh, throwing another book aside. It comes tumbling down back to him due to the amount he has already piled on top of each other. His nimble fingers pick up another one, swiping through it with precision.

He mumbles something quietly, softly putting the comic onto another pile beside him that is neat compared to the other one.

This demeanour continues for a long minute, basically choosing a book in a ratio that one is kept and twelve are thrown away. He never seems too happy with his decision, frowning at some in sadness despite having to give up on them. You don't understand why he doesn't put them onto the obvious piles of his favourites, but you stand in your place.

Having enough of watching, you whistle too loudly to get his attention.

Only to see the guy jump up in the air and slip on a paper he has previously abandoned on the ground. He pointlessly flails his arms around until his elbow hits the ground first, followed by his hip and the rest of his body.

You wince.

As if caught in the headlights, he spins his head to you. The previously left out paper now present on his head. You see confusion, fear and surprise fight against who will persevere on his face, so you lower your shoulders back down and give him an awkward smile, “Uh, sorry?”

He unsurely stumbles to his feet and dusts his clothes off, tightening the scarf around his neck with tense movement. His eyes widen and he makes a quick, though awkward, show of pulling out a stick?

He fumbles around with it for a bit before it extends into a normal looking sword, posing heroically, “I'll- uh, stab you! Yeah! I'll use this sword to stab you.”

You quirk an eyebrow at his choice of words, and at the adorable stutter he did, “Do you even know how to wield a sword?”

“Of course, I do! Wait- do I? No, no, no, you're just trying to make me look silly. I do know-”

Cue an uncoordinated swing of the sharpened weapon at his own leg, but at least his reaction time seems to be fast and he slides his foot out of harm's way just in time. One he created, and he watches as the sword penetrates the wooden boards and he struggles to pull it out.

His action makes you doubt his abilities further and a you can't help the small giggle that escapes you, raising your arms in mock defence when he sends you a defensive glare, “You- you cannot be serious. Quit the child's play, I'm not here to hurt you.”

He stays quiet, still pulling on the handle of the sword with unfortunate outcomes. It slips out of his fists multiple times and he sighs before flopping down onto the floor, defeated, “I guess I really don't know.”

You choose not to retort any sassy comeback to his gloomy self, rather analysing his figure and approaching the weapon. Arms still held above your head to show you don't plan on attacking, your features soft, “Mind me getting the weapon for you? I won't use it against you, I promise.”

“Go ahead,” he gives you an absent wave of his hand and only stares as you grip the handle.

At first, you tug and nothing happens, so you try holding it at a specific place and are delighted when you feel a small button press against your palm, giving it one more tug along with a squeeze of the switch.

An imaginary lightbulb blinks above his head as he sees the sword retract from the ground and you're left gripping the stick in your hand, “See? It isn't as hard, is it now?”

“I admit, you're right,” he accepts the handle from your outstretched hand, storing it into his hoodie pocket.

No wonder you didn't notice it before. He's had it hidden there and he had to have pulled it out when you whistled. Although you personally wouldn't own a weapon like that, it probably comes in handy for situations like these. You aren't sure if it'd be beneficial in an actual fight against a stronger and better crafted weapon, though.

A switchblade would do a better job, surely. From what you've seen, they're a lighter object, more portable and friendlier to beginners. Might even suit his style of fighting better, even if you haven't seen it in action yet, to be truthful, “I do believe I'm right.”

“I would beat you if I had my hatchet!”

You chuckle, “Well, we can always engage in hand-to-hand combat, if you're that confident in getting me. Why use weapons?”

His eyes widen and all his courage dissipates, waving his hands crazily and shaking his head, “When you say it like that, I'll pass you on that offer, thank you. Why didn't you attack me, by the way? Oh, and also, I'm Tubbo, since we seem to be okay with each other.”

Refraining from telling him your name back, you swing your arm at his head and watch him yelp, shut his eyes and flinch from you in humorous satisfaction. You stop it inches from his face, lowering it and stepping away from him, “You should've seen your face, Mr. Tubbo. I'd say we are okay, but I had to pull that on you and to answer your question of my peace towards you… You just seemed harmless.”

He stands up and looks at you in feign anger, jabbing an accusing finger into your chest “You're so cruel, what? I can't trust you now.”

Tubbo crosses his arms, turning away from you. You turn away from him and spot his collection of comics. His previous actions coming to the forefront of your mind, “Hey, why were you browsing through so many comics?”

“I was looking for something,” he shrugs, walking past you and picking up quite a big amount of comic books. He catches the incredulous glance you give the items in his hands and nods his head at them, “They aren't for me.”

“You looked quite sad when you couldn't grab one for yourself, why can't you?”

He's surprised you picked up on that, but he just shrugs, “I would. If my bag allowed me to carry so much at once and I just want to surprise my friends.”

You give a small 'aww', making his ears flush pink and cower away, “I could help you carry them. Where is your camp?”

“I don't think I should be revealing that to strangers, but I've never been the smartest with decisions and I'm sure you'd notice either way,” Tubbo stuffs the books inside his bag, barely closing it, “I could just act like I abducted you.”

“Won't that be suspicious? You actually seem like a person who's too nice to do that.”

The bee boy lightly grins at that while putting his coat on, throwing the messenger bag on his shoulder, “I'm bad at acting, too, so they'd surely notice.”

“Are any of them keeping guard on this place, by the way?”

“No,” his answer is straight-forward, without any hesitation, “It might be very shocking, but none of my friends know about this place. Although I visit quite often than not. It gets quite harsh out there, y'know?”

You hum, choosing to drop the subject and return back to an airier topic, “Which ones do you like?”

Tubbo's quick to light up at the change, dropping to his knees and shuffling through the messy mountain of comics once again. He carelessly throws ten of them at you in happiness and leaves you grasping them to your chest. You laugh at his enthusiasm, reading off few of the titles and shaking your head as he keeps on searching for more.

This was probably a crazy idea, but whatever. Tubbo seems like an adorable person to be around.

Not long after you get ready to leave, keeping the conversation loose and it's almost effortless how you get along. The themes get intertwined between you with ease, pointing to some aspects around you if you want to make a point.

He is a strange guy to get a hold of, but you can say that you like how easy-going talking is with him. The male has visibly suffered some of his own stuff, but he still has this bubbly personality around him that you can't wrap your mind around. Though, you enjoy that little perk he has.

At one point, you lose sight of the boy, looking around you in confusion only to have him appear behind you and throw a freshly made flower crown on top of your head. The question of where he got it from is lost to his ears as he babbles on how he needs to teach you the crafting of one, so you could be 'flower crown buddies'. His own words. Your reaction is to bump your shoulder with his, joking how he is too goofy for you to even want to learn. A look of betrayal is thrown at you and you chuckle.

He proceeds to skip at certain intervals during your trek through the forest, too, visibly being excited to earn a new friend who is close to his wave-length. You don't even notice when you get close, having too much fun getting to know each other and goof around, but Tubbo increasingly slows his steps near an old-looking house.

He turns to you, “Well, this is my stop. I shouldn't take you further or I'll get spanked for not listening to my peers.”

“Uh, I won't respond to that, though I hope everything's alright back at your base. You shouldn't go through child abuse anywhere,” you awkwardly scratch at your neck, handing him the comic books meant for him.

Tubbo light-heartedly laughs at your perplexed self, a jokester-like glint appearing in his eyes as he accepts the papers, “I hope we can meet again.”

“I do, too, and hey. The library can be our place, if you're comfortable enough to call it that,” you heartily smile at him, ruffling his hair and receiving a pouty 'hey! my hair, not yours!'.

He shakes his head to fix your doings, throwing a lop-sided grin, “I can allow that.”

“Well, I should go,” you look up to the sky, seeing the sun brightly shining more to the west side now. It shouldn't be that long before you'll have to get ready for the night and report your findings with Nick. Not like you have much to say to him, but there are some things worth mentioning to him, “I have a friend possibly waiting for me already. It was incredible meeting you, Tubbo!”

“Likewise.”

#technoblade #dream #sapnap #apocalypse au #reader insert #mcyt x reader #mcyt #techno #dream team #dream x reader #dreamwastaken #l'manburg #shadows #??? x reader

[bookworm-2692]

About a week ago I finally finished bookbinding @airdeari‘s beautiful Zero Escape fic The First Nonary Game. It took about a month (between all the waiting for glue to dry and also several days each week when I was unable to work on it), and was so much fun! It’s so satisfying to just... hold this book in my hands. 

Details about how I made it, along with additional photos (and commentary) below the cut.

So I came across this post on Tumblr, which immediately inspired me to try bookbinding myself. I spent a few days watching so many tutorials from the youtube channel linked in the post (I’ll link the specific tutorials I used in this post), and googling how to actually manage to print pages so they form proper signatures, because the inbuilt booklet creator in Word doesn’t exist in my Word apparently so that’s fun.

Anyway, once I started, I asked @airdeari for permission to print and bind his fic, and he immediately said yes, so that was good. Then I spent a good couple of days copying the entire fic into a Word document, and fiddling with formatting so it would look like an actual book (section breaks, page numbers, headers with the fic title on the left page and chapter title on the right page (this took ages to work and I kept on stuffing it up), and making sure things just... looked nice. I added in the art After The War that @keycrash created specifically for the fic (third pic above), and an “afterword” containing credit and links and the author’s notes from AO3 (because even if I’m the only one who will ever see it, it still feels weird to not add the credit stuff in so it’s there).

I then saved the document as a PDF, and used CheapImposter to correctly shuffle (impose, hence “imposter”) the pages so when folded into signatures, each page would be in the correct order. This program was the first free one I could find, and was great because you could specify the number of sheets you want per signature, rather than stuck with a default. I chose to have 11 signatures of 6 sheets of paper, since that was the amount that would have the least blank pages and the end of the book. The file was 261 pages, so with two pages per side, and two sides per sheet, you divide the number of pages by 4 to get 66 sheets of paper

I then printed. There was only one (1) paper jam in the process, which was great. Unfortunately, I realised after I printed that one of the headers for one chapter was wrong (I hadn’t properly disconnected the two chapters), but fortunately that only involved reprinting 4 sheets of paper.

I used the following tutorials to make the books: DIY Textblock, a general “how to make a textblock” tutorial; DIY Kettle Stitch, a specific look at the stitching for a textblock, since the first tutorial doesn’t focus on this; DIY Book Cloth, since I chose to use fabric for my cover; and DIY Hardcover Book, how to put all those pieces together.

So then I started folding all the signatures. I was watching so much Brooklyn Nine-Nine during both the folding and stitching sections, since it was repetitive actions I didn’t need to concentrate on that lasted hours.

It was at this point that I sliced each signature one by one to make the end smoother and less pointy. In future I recommend not doing it at this point - wait until the very end. Instead, move straight onto stitching. 

I don’t have any photos of the stitching portion, since my phone died the morning I started the stitching, and I wasn’t able to replace it until after all the stitching was done. In fact, originally all the photos from before the stitching were lost too. It was only about two days ago that magically the My Photo Stream thing kicked in and brought back all the photos - if it had worked two weeks earlier I would’ve had more. As it is, all photos from September to January are gone forever, unfortunately. But that’s another discussion entirely.

The above is the first book photo on my new phone, so as you can see, all the stitching was completed, the spine was glued, and the purple paper attached. I couldn’t buy two A4 sheets, so instead I had to buy one A3 sheet and cut it in half. Which was difficult cycling home from the city with an A3 sheet that didn’t fit in my bag on account of being A3 and not A4, but oh well.

I don’t have a book press, so I used a pile of DND books and my brother’s weights instead, as shown below.

I then had to re-slice the book after this point bc my first go wasn’t even, on account of slicing each signature separately. Next time definitely I’ll just do it at the end like this. I then also sanded it to make it smoother. It’s still not perfect, but it’s something that’ll take practice and patience so.

Next I made the book cloth, which involves using appliqué sheets to combine cotton fabric and tissue paper. But first I want to talk about the fabric I chose for the cover, because I’m quite proud of it. I spent ages wandering around the shop, trying to find something that fit the feel of the book. Spoilers for the content of the fic if you haven’t read it yet, and also for the source material (999/Zero Escape). I was thinking about some sort of blue swirl thing, because of the Gigantic sinking. I found that, but hesitated because it didn’t fully fit, and my favourite colour is blue so I always pick blue. I also considered flames/fire because of the incinerator thing, but couldn’t find any. I can’t remember if I just couldn’t find any four leaf clover fabric, or if I’ve just since thought about that as a cover. But instead I chose the butterflies below. They fit in several subtle ways that I’m proud of. The colours of blue and pink(/red) matching the receiver and transmitter coding all throughout 999, as well as the moments of purple as well (I don’t think I need to get into that, I’m sure it was analysed to hell and back when the game first came out). The butterflies also point towards the butterfly effect, and in turn the different timelines present in the series. So together it just works. /spoilers over

It’s also just a pretty fabric.

Now the making of the book cloth. I had to make it twice, because I was too impatient the first time, so the iron was too hot and it steamed, which wrinkled and warped the tissue paper, so the fabric was all wrinkly too. The second time took ages and was a worse quality appliqué sheet, but worked well enough anyway.

(My parents: did you have the iron out? what were you ironing? you never iron)

And then I cut the book board to size, using the measurements from the tutorial video. I’ll repeat them here: front and back cover: width = width of textblock minus 3mm, and height = height of textblock plus 6mm, and spine width = width of textblock spine, spine height = same height as covers

I then glued the board onto the book cloth, and put it under the book press. The dnd books are not large enough to cover the whole thing, and also I really wanted the board to stay flat and not curl, so I grabbed way more dnd books and way more of my brother’s weights. I also accidentally started putting the glue on the wrong side of the board (bc one side is smooth and the other is rough), hence the colour difference as well.

The corners were cut and folded and glued over...

And then the textblock was glued in, and put in my book press for a whole weekend. I added a sheet of paper to absorb the glue so the pages wouldn’t become wrinkly, but instead the sheet I added was fine and every other page in the book is wrinkly. So I dunno what happened there. After the weekend I took it out and looked at it, and then put it back for another week to be sure.

And then the complete book is shown at the top of the post!

As I was starting I was talking a lot about it, like about the process I had to go through, or how I was going to obtain what I needed, etc. Mum asked if she could read the story. I froze, like a deer in the headlights... because this is a fanfic. She saw my fear and immediately backed down, explaining she only wanted to read it because if the story was that important to me that I was going to literally turn it into a book, she wanted to read it to yknow like know me better or something? Which makes sense. And when I got over my initial reaction, and remembered that indeed it was technically my dad who introduced me to fanfic, and thought about it more, I said okay. Because since the fic is technically a prequel to the first game, and most of the characters are technically OC’s (like, from the first game we know that all eighteen children must exist, but most of them don’t have names or anything so they are effectively OC’s), then knowledge of source material isn’t strictly necessary. This fic can probably be enjoyed on its own. I mean I’ll probably have to explain the concept of morphogenetic fields, and the last four chapters might not make sense? But I’m okay for my mum to read it. So when she’s less busy at work I’m going to download the epub onto her phone for her - we’ll see how it goes.

Anyway, this fic is a masterpiece, extremely well written and I highly recommend it. As said, most of the characters are effectively OC’s, and yet they are all given such rich histories and personalities. All of them have access to the morphogenetic field, so I’m just so glad that @airdeari​ explores nine unique relationships with the field - nine unique sibling dynamics, and esper powers and abilities. It’s just so good.

#bookbinding #zero escape #999 spoilers #999 #the first nonary game #airdeari #i forgot to mention the most essential step of making the book #before i printed the pages i read the entire fic again through word #its still so beautiful #i cant wait for my first read of the fic using my physical book #if youre in the ze fandom and still have not come across this fic yet #first of all who are you and what rock have you been living under #and second of all please read this fic bc its anything and everything you could ever want from a fng fic #feel free to ask more about this and what i did btw #it was so fun binding this book #i want to do more of my fav fics now haha #this fic is 100k and it was like the perfect size for a fic to print #most of the other fics i really like are much much longer so i'd probably have to split them in half #and idk if i could do that #too much pressure to split between the right chapters #oh well uni has started so i have a while to think about which one to do next #ive already promised a version of this fic for a friend who wants to draw her own cover #so we'll see how that goes!

[twilighcreed]

Title: What Pride Has Brought

Paring: Arthur Morgan X Reader (Established Friendship turned Romance); Past Arthur Morgan X Mary Linton (Mentioned)

Author: TwilighCreed

Word Count: 6.4k+

Warning: Violence themed, gore, character death, angst, animal death, strong language... Defiantly not something children should read... 

Summary: In the wake of the Valentine massacre, the Gang faces a short supply of much needed food after their hasty retreat to their new hideout at Clements Point. With their leaders gone in search for a way out, Y/N takes in upon herself to ensure the well being of her family in the Ambarino mountains. 

Authors Note: Hello everyone! It’s been a long while since I’ve last posted anything on my account, and I deeply apologies for that. With me starting my career in the military, enlisting has taken me across the country and the world. This story has been collecting dust in my archives since December of 2018 and I thought it’s about time I get back into my passion for writing. Not sure if I’ll make a part two, but it’s defiantly a thought. Thank you all so much for your patience! 

Enjoy! 

    The tension of the rawhide bowstring was taut between your fingertips, the skin raw from continuous use for the past several days and you could feel the ache in your muscles. You were used to the soreness—it was always yours and Charles responsibility to go hunting for provision within the camp. The others were always too clumsy when it came to the primitive art of hunting, bringing back small game and buckshot meat and ravaged pelts, neither of which were any help when it came to carving what little meat you could salvage from the appalling carcass of a whitetail buck. It became too common that you took it upon yourself to become the food provider; easing the weight off Charles and making Pearson a little happier when you started to bring quality kills in from a hunt.

Furthermore, when you weren’t at camping helping the woman with their chores, making meals other than stew for the men, and helping Kieran with the horses or aiding Dutch with new plans of another heist, you often find yourself surrounded by thick forest with nothing but your wits and skills to keep you alive while you hunt for the next big thing: elk.       

The bland taste of local game started to become recurring and the meals weren’t as happily anticipated anymore; causing the gang to start complaining about the food quality and making a bitter Person. You looked over at him with empathy while slowly chewing on your stew, and by the following morning you packed your warmest attire and drove your horse up north to the Ambarino mountains, heading to Grizzlies East where you heard fellow hunters and trappers had caught prized kills. It was worth a shot and a good excuse to leave camp for a few days. Arthur always had you stuck in camp.

It was what lead up to your current situation, with an improved arrow notched in your bowstring and your dominant arm brawn back with the large form of an elk in between your crosshairs. He was several meters away—amidst dead vegetation and low hanging branches— from your hidden position behind a pine tree, your body leaning up against the bark to help keep you steady and benefit you in getting a perfect shot. All you needed to do was aim a little lower to the left…

“Your posture is off.”

TWANG! 

THUNK!

    In your focused concentration, you were unaware of a presence coming up behind you that your fingers slipped and the arrow was released too early, sending it flying between the Elks' legs and into the tree behind them. Now aware that the elk’s life was threatened, it wasted no time to burst into a sprint and make a sharp turn into the dense vegetation. In a matter of seconds, you lost sight of the mammal and you could only watch it flee in utter defeat.

You could hear the quiet chuckle behind you and your devastated shock quickly turned into fierce annoyance. Whipping around, you glared at the man leaned up against a tree behind you, a smug smile on his lips and a mischievous spark in his eye. For a moment you stood there in admiration at how unmistakable handsome Arthur Morgan looked with his blue winter coat and hat tipped low, but the sting and numb feeling you felt in your arms and hands reminded you that he had just ruined a perfect opportunity to kill a prized elk you had spent the past three days tracking. It was a horrendous act of betrayal—he knew you pride yourself on your hunting abilities.     

Your breath was hot in its confined space behind your bandana despite the plummeting cold that surrounds you, and for a moment it became almost unbearably uncomfortable. Allowing your bow arm to rest, you reached up and pulled down the cloth covering your lower face, a scowl etched into your features. 

“What the hell, Arthur!?” you half whispered half yelled, your irritation clear enough for him to know that you were furious with him, however, your displeasure didn't seem to phase him, only adding to his pride of getting you worked up so quickly. 

It usually took a lot to get you angry, you were always calm and collected, but when it came to Arthur Morgan, he knew exactly what buttons to push to throw you into a fit, and that irks you, but at the same time gave you a strange comfort because it only showed how well he did know you. 

“My bad, sweetheart, did I scare ‘em off?” he spoke, his western drawl husky and laced with hints of laughter; and for a second, your previous anger subsided and you welcomed the sound of his voice.      

“What’da think?” you huffed, glancing back over your shoulder at where you last saw the elk run off to. “Damnit. It took me three days the track him.” you groaned.

The sound of breathy laughter caught your ears and you narrowed your eyes, looking over at the cowboy with a more intense glare, a frown tugging at your lips. He was laughing at you. “What are you laughing at? This is serious, Arthur!”

“I know it is. Calm yourself, Darlin’. Come on, let's go get yer elk. He couldn't have gone far.”

You watched him with a continuous scowl as he pushed himself off the tree and started to trek over in the general direction of where the elk had scurried off, ignoring your pointed look with a smirk. 

While he crouched down and examined the tracks, you walked over and plucked your arrow from the tree, examining the arrowhead for any damage that might have been caused on impact. To your surprise, it didn’t take too much damage, but it would still need to be sharpened at the tip before it could be used again.

“Where’d you leave your horses?” 

“Just past that treeline,” you nodded in the direction, walking back over to where Arthur now stood. “I brought Dutchess and Arizona with me.”

“I noticed. Why’d yer need two?” he asked, joining your side while you sauntered to where your horses were hitched. 

You chuckled softly, “An elk is a lot heavier than a deer. I’m planning on taking a lot of the meat back to camp and stock up. God knows I can only take enough of everyone's complaining about the food.”

Arthur hummed in understanding. It was blatantly obvious that morale was low in camp since the move from Horseshoe Overlook to Clements Point, and with the new humidity they had to endure and the rise in temperature, most of the food had gone bad, leaving a limitation on what was available. You knew a few tricks that would keep the elk’s meat lasting for several weeks, even months if the process was taken with precaution.

Reaching to where you had your horses hitched, you placed a gentle hand on your mustang mare—Dutchess—neck and gave her a few gentle strokes before moving over to your draft horse, Arizona; checking over them to make sure they were well enough to drive through the snow. When you were satisfied, you placed your bow on your saddle and mounted your horse, glancing over at Arthur. 

Just as you were about to ask where his horse was, he lets out a high whistle and you could hear a horse wine not too far from where you were. Not long after, you spotted the black frame of a large animal and out came the confident struts of his Arabian stallion. Arthur smirked when he noticed your envious eyes.

“You need to teach me how to call my horse like that.” 

“Maybe some other time, now come on, we’re losin’ daylight.”

You nodded your head and held the reins of your mount as well as the lead to your other. You allowed Arthur to take the front, directing his horse to where the elk's prints were still fresh. You might as well let him do the tracking, he was the one who spooked the elk.

☾

     Your eyes studied the distance between the setting sun and the horizon, calculating how much time you have left before it grew dark and you would either need to set up camp or find shelter, depending on how the weather held up. You had maybe a minimum of two hours before then, and with the temperature growing, even more, colder than the previous nights, you knew it was going to be a freezing night.

 “Arthur,” you called his name from atop your horse. When he heard your worried tone, he looked over his shoulder at you, his eyes becoming serious and you knew you had his full attention. With a regretful sigh, you kicked your horse to stop beside his mount. “It’s getting late. We should find some shelter. I have a feeling that tonight's gonna get pretty bad.”

“Are ya sure? What about your buck?”

You both had been tracking him for several miles at this point, from Lake Isabella all the way up Spider Gorge and east to Cairn Lake and soon after reaching the lake the wind had started to pick up covering his trail with the surrounding snow making it even harder to track him. There was no point in continuing with a dead end.

“We can try again in the morning.” you said, “Colter isn't far from here. We can set up camp there. No point in tracking him if we freeze tonight.”

Arthur nodded his head in silent agreement before turning his reins and heading west, backtracking and going northwest off the trial. You noticed he had become quiet, a stern front replacing the gentle persona he had shown you earlier. It was unsettling but you knew it was better to leave it alone. 

Colter was the first settlement the gang had found after the whole ordeal in Blackwater and they were forced to run north away from the Pinkertons. It was an old abandoned mining town that still seemed intact, but with the harsh and unpredictable weather, it was slowly starting to degrade with passing time. 

“So, how’d you find me?” you asked, trying to start a gentle conversation while watching as Arthur tugged at the reins for his mount to bank left and up the hill. “You were still gone when I left.”

“Charles told me. You should have waited until I came back,” he said, his voice gruff and flat.

This slightly threw you off. Why was he acting so cold towards you?

“The camp needed food, Arthur. A whitetail or a bore can only do so much and the camps funds are low and no one is willing to spend their own money on food for everyone else.” you reasoned, feeling slightly offended that he thought you couldn't handle yourself. He knew you could hold your own. “Besides, you were off with Dutch and Hosea doing Gods-knows-what while I’m doing some actual work for the group.” you shot back, a bitter taste in your mouth.

His head twisted and he gave you a hard glare making you slightly flinch in your saddle. You cursed at yourself for opening your mouth like that, but it had been nagging at you for a while and part of you felt relieved you said it out loud. But with the hard look, he was giving you now made you question if it was right of you to say it.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he clamored, pulling back on his reins and stopping his mount before turning in the saddle to look at you.

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t play dumb with me. Since that shitshow, in Valentine, we had to move camp again, and at the worst time—”

“It ain’t like we haven’t had to move before. You're the one outhere hunting for some damn elk while I’m the one risking my neck to make us some money.” he protested, belittling your effort with comparing his work with yours.

Both you and Arthur worked harder than most when it came to contributing to the camps well being. You both had strong bonds to the gang meaning you both took everything personally and to heart. Arthur had been with the gang longer than you and is one of the original members and right hand of Dutch. You coming many years later when you were seventeen and at the time Arthur was twenty-five. 

There was an obvious strong connection between you and Arthur. There was no doubt about it. He took the role of looking after you when they found you on death's door after aiding them when a job has gone wrong. Feeling responsible, he had persuaded Dutch to take you in (not that he needed much persuading, you did help them after all). Some of the members at camp would argue and say your relationship was almost at the peak of romantic, but with Arthur’s troubled past relationships with Mary Linton, and you not wanting to spoil what you had with him, you decided to keep it as just companions. 

Though it never stopped either of you from looking longing after one another when either would go to bed in their respective tents, or seek each other out after no seeing the other for a while, nor the long talks you shared by the campfire, speaking in hushed whispers about your past and what the future holds. And because of this bond and Arthur taking on the role of bodyguard, he practically forbids you from leaving camp, ensuring several arguments like this one.        

“Excuse me, you're the one who wouldn't let me pick up a job! Not even an honest one!” you growled, holding your ground. You weren’t afraid to stand up to Arthur like the others. It was both admirable and annoying trail. It gave him pride knowing you could stand your ground but also incredibly irritating when it comes to situations like this.

“Yeah? What the hell yer gonna do? Work at the whore house?”

Your eyes widen in shock, hurt, completely taken off guard. For a long minute, you didn't know what to say, your heart clenching inside your chest that it became unbearable. You could see that the moment those words left his lips he regretted it, but there was no turning back now. Arthur was just as stubborn as you were, maybe even more.

Your lips tightened and your eyes turned cold, you first clenching tight around the leather straps and you swore you saw Arthur tremble. 

“You know what? Fuck you!” you shouted, “I didn’t ask for you to come out here! You know damn well I could pick up an honest job.” you deflect, determined to defend your wounded pride.

“Mhm, sure.” he tusked, shaking his head in disbelief. 

You didn't know what the hell got into him, but you weren’t going to push around. That wasn’t you. 

“Damn you, Arthur Morgan. Why the hell are you even out here? I don’t need you! Why don’t you go back to the fucking bitch Mary!” you shouted, almost standing up in your saddle and pointing an accusing finger at him.

When the name of his past lover left your lips you saw the green of Arthur's eyes widen and his face pale. Not a second later his stone cold facade resurfaced and his tone became bitter and threatening.

“How the he—”

“You think I didn't know?” it was your time to laugh,  “I saw the damn letter, Arthur. You wanna try and explain yourself on that one?”

“She needed my help. Her brother was off trying to join some damn cult—”

“So you go crawling back to her after what she did to you? After everything, I’ve done for you?! Do I mean so little to you, Arthur?”

The secret was revealed and you weren’t sure if you were happy or upset even more than when you found the letter. But the cards were dealt and now you both had to face them.

“It ain’t like that, Y/N. You know that!” he choked and his eyes narrowed, “It ain't even your damn business!”

You just shake your head. 

It hurt you more than you’d like to admit when you saw the letter. It hurts even worse when he came back to camp late knowing that he went off to see her. You didn't know what transpired between them, but you assumed the worst. You thought that if you prepared yourself it would hurt less. That's what you thought and you were wrong. It still hurt like a son of a bitch. 

“Yeah, of course, you’d say that.” you huffed, feeling defeated. You suddenly got a strong feeling of wanting to be alone, and if you stayed even longer you know things would get worse. 

Turning your reins sharply you kicked your horse's side and clicked your tongue, sending both your mounts into a fast trot. “Do me a favor and leave me the hell alone!” you yelled over your shoulder, not daring to look back.

“Where the hell do you think you're going?” You heard him shout after you but heard no sign of him coming after you.

Good.

“Away from you! Hiya!”

☾

When the sun’s rays had finally been closed off by the mountain ridge and the moon started it’s rise to the middle of the midnight sky, you had bitterly wished you stayed with Arthur. The temperature had notably dropped tremendously and not even your many layers of clothing could keep the bone-chilling cold out. Your horses undeniably increased in their whines and you couldn’t blame them. It was damn near freezing and the wind had picked up making you all the more miserable and making it even harder to ignore the cold.

From the last few minutes of daylight, you were headed further north following along Spider Gorge. You haven't been this far north so you were treading new territory and with night befalling far more quickly that you’d like, you were desperately attempting to find some landmarks or shelter. Anything to get you and your horses out of the cold, but to your demise, there was nothing but snowy mountains closing you in and thick trees.

“Fuck.” you cursed, your body shaking violently and your teeth clattering getting even louder.

This wasn’t at all what you planned or hoped for. Everything was going the exact opposite in the worst way possible. The gang was still left without food (to your knowledge), the Pinkertons were hot on your gang's trail; losing Jenny, Davy, and Mac; stupid Mary coming back into Arthur's life and now your argument and the weather turning foil. 

Nothing was going right and dread started to creep into the pit of your stomach. If you stayed out here any longer you would freeze to death, and the last thing the gang needed was to find out you died because of your pride and jealousy. But the one thing that keeps eating at you was that you would die alone, without telling Arthur your true feelings, and that you wouldn't have the chance to fix the rift that had started to grow for the past few weeks since you discovered the letter.

It was selfish of you to think that he was yours and yours alone and that what you had was really special. You were a fool and you could see that now. It still didn't ease the pain in your heart. And yours hopes to have a few days away from him only made matters worse. 

More than anything you just wanted to be back at camp, in the company of your family and in the quiet embrace that you would share with Arthur after a long night by the fire and a bottle in hand before you found the letter.

“C-come on girl… j..just a little… further…” you managed to say between shivering breaths. 

The wind started to howl and with it: snow. It was turning into a blizzard and your hope for surviving was starting to diminish. You weren’t one to give up so easily, not without a fight at least. You came into this world in someone else's blood kicking and screaming, you’d be damned if you didn't go out the same way.

A sudden howl caught your attention and you felt your blood run cold. With the rush of wind, the howl was amplified and it was near impossible to know where it was coming from. But you knew that sound from anywhere… 

Wolves.

Your mare abruptly let out a loud cry and started to frantically move in her place, throwing her head back and letting out a string of whales. It was frightening and you tried to calm her down with your words but to no avail, the wind was too loud for her to hear you. 

Before you could do anything, Arizona let out a whine himself and throw his body in the air, his forelegs kicking and the lead slipping from your hand. You hopelessly reached out to grab the rope but it was too late and he broke into a run and you lost sight of him in the storm.

“Shit! Arizona!” you called out, “Damn it!” 

You had heard of a wolf pack prowling these parts from the time John was attacked, but in your time spent here, you hadn't heard nor seen any. Not even any dead carcasses of animals they hunted or signs of a possible den. You thought it was too cold for them. You were wrong. If your knowledge was correct, the wolves corralled their prey, forcing them to run. You had your revolver and knife if it came down to a fight, but with the severe unseasonable weather, a wolf attack would seal your death. 

If a wolf manages to pine you down, they would undoubtedly go for your throat. If you managed to get out of the struggle, you would most certainly have critical wounds, and if the infection did not kill you, the blood loss would. And if by some miracle neither of these happened, the elements would finish you off—hypothermia being the primary cause.

Through the blizzard you heard another howl, this one much closer and you could hear more than one as they raised in voice. Instantaneously Dutchess let out a panicked cry and broke out into a gallop, oblivious to your commands when you tried to stop her. It all moved to fast and everything just seemed to blur around you and before you could do anything, Dutchess came to a streaking halt and you flew forward. 

The snow was deep enough that your landing wasn’t too harsh, but the moment you fell into the white blanket you let out a yelp for how freezing the snow felt against your exposed flesh. You stumbled to your feet and the howling wind was broken by the unmistakable sound of a curdling growl.

You couldn't move. Your muscles had seized and your body trembled in fear. All function in your body just went out and you were no longer in control and no matter how hard you screamed at yourself to move, you couldn't. You were frozen in fear.

It took the cry of your horse and the bloodlust bark of a beast to make you move. You picked yourself up and turned sharply away from where you heard the terrifying noises, your body going to flight mode and you just ran. Your mare was already too far ahead of you by the time you started to flee, and your fear spiked to its peak. There was no way you could catch up to her.  

The wind whipped at your face and bite at your skin. Your body was numb and everything stung and burned. You were losing energy fast. Trying to hike through two feet of snow was draining you and trying to run was only making it all the more difficult. 

You could hear the barks and growls coming from behind you, and the rush of their paws against the snow. You didn't know if it was just one or many, you couldn't see them, and you didn't want to find out.

You leaped forward, digging your heels into the white powder and clawing your way through the thick snowfields. Your breath was ragged and hot, your throat sore from your sharp intakes of the icy bitter cold and every muscle fiber in your body burned like a raging fire. You could still hear them behind you and for a moment you looked over your shoulder; never stopping your assault forward. What you saw made your heat drop.

You could see a blurry outline of the beast. It was larger and bigger than any of the wolves you’ve seen throughout the states. Its eyes looked as if they glowed white and it struck terror down to your core. Wolves often hunted in packs, and they were chasers, opportunist, seeking weak prey. You were that chase, that open opportunity—you were the hunt. 

This sudden new found fear pushed you to go even harder, faster, leaping up out of the snow and pushing through with purpose. You refused to be their food. You disregarded your worries for the horse and focused on the looming threat at hand. You needed to find shelter and you needed to find it fast.

Through what little light filtered through the storm, you saw the distinguishable outline of pine trees. Being in an open field would give them a larger area to strike, so if you stuck to the trees you would put something between you and wolves. It was the only choice you had.

Making a beeline for the thick forest you felt the sting of the lower branches lash out while you plunged into the thick of it. It slows you down but gave you an advantage by putting distance between you and the threat. The recognizable sound of their strides grew a little quieter, but their voice of annoyance grew louder.

You had managed to find the outcropping of a mountain's side and with it the chance to find shelter. It was difficult trying to navigate through the blizzard but you had coped with this difficulty, finding that the mountainside abruptly curved inward into itself. A cave. 

You stumbled forward and out of the storm, your hand reaching for the wall to help guide you. You had heard that some caves would continue on for miles but the floors underneath them would disappear. Many miners and curious adventures had died that way; falling to their death. It was distinctly colder in the cave, but you were blocked from the wind and out of the open storm. You were safe for now, but you weren’t out of danger just yet.

Your eyes slowly adjusted to the dark and you could make out blurry lines of the structure of the cave. The ceiling was low, but enough for you to stand at your full height without having to bend your knees. You could barely make out the other side of the cavern and you estimated that it was at least four meters wide. The atmosphere was slightly damp but it was dry enough that you wouldn’t be at the risk of frostbite, but the snow had penetrated your coat and when the temperature would rise, the snow would melt and your clothes would become soaked. 

You shuffle your feet forward and kept your palm flat against the wall. You glanced back to the opening of the cave and saw that the entrance was smaller than when you stumbled in. You were several yards in when suddenly your foot hit something hard and you fell forward. You thrust your hands forward and were able to soften your fall but you could feel your forearms and palms sting and your knees ache when it came into contact with the ground.

You waited a moment on all fours to regain your breath and to calm your nerves. Your heart was banging against your chest, threatening to break free and it was so loud in your ears you that you thought it would burst. Thankfully, your muscles were still shaking indicating that you didn't pass the threshold of severe hypothermia. You weren’t sure but you know your core temperature had most likely dropped and you would need to build a fire to regain that lost heat. 

So lost in thought, your body ignored the dampness beneath your palm and it wasn’t until you made a move to get up that you noticed it. It didn't feel like water because it wasn’t cold. It was warm and almost sticky. Pushing yourself up, you reached into the coat of your pocket for your matches and pulled them out. It was the only source of light you had. You left your lantern secured on your saddle.

With trembling hands, you managed to pluck a single wood match from its container before dragging the tip across the ignitor, igniting the flame. The match did not give off a lot of light, but enough for you to see a little more clearly now. 

Curious as to what made you fall, you turned your head down and to your horror, you almost screamed. The object that had made you fall wasn’t a rock like you though, but the carcass of an elk, the elk you were hunting. You know it was the elk you were hunting because of the antlers. One of the tips had broke clean off. It was how you were able to track him. 

You tumbled backward in shock, your backside hitting the stone and it ran up your spine like a lightning bolt. The front part of your clothes—more notable your hands and knees—were drenched in blood. You groaned, suddenly feeling sick. Holding down the urge to vomit, you pushed yourself up onto your knees to get a closer look at the corpse of the elk.

Striking another match, you brought it close, your eyes looming over the ravaged carcass. You could still feel the heat radiating off the animal's fur and the smell wasn’t rank, meaning the kill was still fresh. The throat of the mammal had cleanly been bitten through and the belly was torn open and pulled apart. Upon closer inspection, you could see puncture wounds scattered all over the body, notable around the limbs of the elk. They were bite marks.

Realization washed over you and for a second time that night you felt your heart seize in your chest and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Quickly, you stood up and surveyed the area, dread holding you tightly while you prayed to God that you weren’t where you thought you were. Then you saw it. Bones littered the back of the cave and chewed on skulls decorated the floor. Patches of dead leaves and branches were scattered in remote parts of the cave as fixed for bedding.

You were on their home…

 A low, deep throaty growl echoed through the cave and you wished the world would swallow you whole. You spun around, your eyes straining in search of where you heard the growl came from.

You swallowed hard when you saw the form of a wolf standing in front of you, it’s massive body trapping you while it bared its fangs, freshly stained crimson from the elk's blood; its eyes clouded in lust for blood—your blood. You could see that the wolf was foaming at the mouth, saliva dripping down in strings onto the cold floor. 

You kept your eyes locked with the wolf, your hand slowly reaching down to where your holster was. You had six bullets in the chamber and one already in the barrel, if you aimed right and shoot quick enough, you should—

 Your thoughts were cut short when you saw two smaller forms come out from behind, what you presumed, the alpha. They weren’t as threatening as the one who stood before you, but they only added to your stakes of you making it out alive.

They seemed to chitter almost themselves, their heads dropped low and their eyes never leaving yours. You could hear the scrape of their claws on the ground and you shuddered in fear; you wouldn't be surprised if the wolf could smell it on you. It would be strong. 

Your eyes flickered from one beast to the other, your mind racing to come up with a plan, anything to get you out of this mess. But each only seemed to end in your demise. 

Where the hell was Arthur when you needed him?

Just as your fingers grazed the cold steel of your revolver, almost instantaneously the wolf lunged. 

It happened so quickly you didn't have time to think: just act.

The loud vibrant explosion of your finger pulling back on the trigger echoed several times before you felt the massive weight of the animal push you down. You felt your breath leave your lungs and you were left winded, gasping for breath but you didn’t have time. You threw your arms out in front of you as a shield and a sudden burning, searing piercing pain shot up your arm and you cried out. 

Grunts and barks filled your ears as the wolf thrashed it’s head side-to-side, it’s jaws clamped around your arm, ripping your clothes and its teeth sinking deeper into your left arm. Out of reflex your right hand turned into a fist and started to strike down hard onto the wolves head, yelps and gasp leaving your lips as the wolf only seemed to bite down harder.

You felt the massive paws push down even harder on your chest and the pressure became too great that you thought you heard a crack. You yelled and reached blindly for your pistol, your hands only coming in contact with the cold floor. Abandoning the gun, you reached down to your side and gripped the hilt of your knife and yanking it out of the sheath. 

The wolf let go of your arm for a second only to lunge for your throat. You moved your head to the side and felt the wolves teeth sink into your shoulder and your mind went blank in agony and you screamed. You brought the knife up and muster all your strength, you plunged the blade into the wolf, blind aiming. 

You heard the wolf cry out in its own pain, its teeth leaving your skin and you bitterly hopped it was worse than what you felt. 

You pulled the knife out and plunged it back in, this time closer to the chest. It yelped above you, warm blood oozing onto your hand as you repeatedly stabbed the wolf while using your left arm to push the wolf up, exposing it’s soft belly to you. With a cry, you dug the knife as hard as you can into the soft flesh of the wolves underside and the beast gave out a weak whine.

The weight above you gave way and the wolf tumbled off you, your knife still impaled in its side. You took the opportunity and rolled to your side with a pained grunt, your good arm reaching for your pistol. When you felt the metal against your palm you shot forward, your iron sights aimed at the other two wolves and letting off several rounds. By the painful yelps, they let out you know you hit at least one of them. 

Click! Click! Click!

The soft clink of your gun told you-you were out of bullets. Looking down at the gun you threw it to your side, the clattering of steel hitting the rocks bounced off the walls and you were left in silence.

Your eyes traveled back up and you were once more greeted with the slow and disheartening realization that you were alone. The other wolves had fled when you killed the authoritative figure in their small pack. Without their leader they were useless.

The agonizing pain forced you to look down at your wounded limb and bleeding shoulder. The wolf had torn clean through your coat and undershirt underneath, creating a clean path down to your flesh. With the dime light of the cave, you could see the bright crimson of your blood leaking from several large puncture wounds on the back of your forearm. You wouldn't be surprised if it went down to the bone. 

Using your right hand, you gently yanked down on the bandana wrapped around your neck, freeing it before you used the cloth as a makeshift wrap. Your hands had stopped trembly so it was a little easier to tie a loose not after you wrapped your arm. In the distance you could feel the warm trickle of your blood as it seeped into your shirt and stained your chest, small streams of blood leaking from your shoulder and you could feel an intensified ache with each heartbeat.  

 Your breaths came out short and shallow, and each puff was accompanied by a thick cloud of smoke. You could no longer feel the tingle in your toes or the burning of your muscles. You couldn't feel anything but the pain of your wounds. Everything just seemed to grow quiet… And you felt the heaviness in your eyes and it was becoming more difficult to hold yourself up. 

You blinked, and you blinked again, a sudden dark cloud creeps into the corners of your vision, slowly reaching forward and the world started to become dark and cold. 

“Nu.. nno… no…” you tried to say, trying to force yourself to stay awake but with each passing second, it was becoming clear this wasn’t a battle you would win. Your muscles gave out and you fell on your back, numb to the pain when your head hits the floor.

“A..Ar… aarrthh… Arthuuurr…” you whispered into the abyss. His name sends warmth to your heart and you almost cracked a smile.

You knew you were going to die. But it was going to be a good death. You were proud because you had died the way you wanted, kicking a screaming; your body soaked in the mixture of your blood and the wolves. It wasn’t a bad ending to a short and painful story. It was better than at the gallows with a noose wrapped tight around your neck and the people chanting your name for a crime that wasn’t yours. 

But all that didn't seem to matter, because as the darkness took over your vision and your eyes became too heavy to keep them open, all you could see was the deep forest green of his eyes, and feel the soft tendrils of his hair, and hear the sweet deep voice of his drawl as he said your name…

#Red Dead Redemption #Red Dead #red dead 2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur x reader #arthur morgan imagine #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #Dutch Van Der Linde #Van Der Linde Gang #video games #twilighcreed

[sellhousefast323]

9 Top-Rated Attractions & Things to Do in Roanoke, VA

Roanoke is a popular tourist destination, whether you're a culture vulture seeking out unique museums and attractions or an active vacationer seeking out outdoor adventures. The city is a four-season destination for avid hikers, rock climbers, recreational boaters, and sportfishing enthusiasts, and is located in the picturesque Roanoke Valley in southwestern Virginia. In-town greenways, cultural diversions, diverse dining, and unique shopping discoveries await urban explorers. Whatever your vacation style, keep our list of Roanoke's top attractions and things to do handy.

1. Mill Mountain Park & the Roanoke Star

Mill Mountain Park, which is home to the famous Roanoke Star (also known as the Mill Mountain Star), has more than 10 miles of multi-use trails (hiking, walking, and biking) where visitors can experience the region's all-season natural beauty.

Take the Mill Mountain Star Trail, a 3.5-mile round-trip from the base trail, to the summit of Mill Mountain, the city's highest point at 1,703 feet, for a moderately challenging hike. Hikers are rewarded with two scenic overlooks atop the mountain after climbing 838 feet in elevation. The Star Trail parking lot, located just off Riverland Road SE at the Star/Wood Thrush Connector, has plenty of free parking and clear signage.

Connect with the short Watchtower Trail for the best panoramic views and photos right at the base of the Roanoke Star, one of Virginia's most famous landmarks. The National Register of Historic Landmarks has listed this unusual landmark, which was built in 1949 as a temporary Christmas decoration by the local merchants association. The giant star, at 89 feet in height, is America's largest star. It is visible from up to 60 miles away and is lit every evening until midnight.

Hikers are welcome to bring their leashed dogs, and there are picnic tables, restrooms, and water along the Mill Mountain Spur Trail en route to the Discovery Center, a naturalist centre with exhibits on the park, local wildlife, and trail maps. Mill Mountain Zoo, a small but lively enclave with local critters such as the Indian crested porcupine, red wolf, and yellow-spotted side-necked turtle, will appeal to children of all ages.

2. Carvins Cove Natural Reserve

Carvins Cove Natural Reserve, with more than 60 miles of trails surrounding an 800-acre reservoir, is known among locals as a haven for off-road mountain biking. The reserve, which is the second largest municipal park in the United States, spans nearly 13,000 acres, the majority of which is protected by the state of Virginia's largest conservation easement.

Trail maps are available for purchase, and bikers can get local advice on which trails are best suited for their experience level at Just The Right Gear, a cycling shop near the Bennett Springs parking lot (one of three reserve entrances — the others are Marina and Timber View). There are also rentals of high-end bikes and gear.

On the Easy Street, Kit & Kaboodle, The Skillet, and Enchanted Forest trails, beginners will find a gentler rise and more flats. On the Comet, Gauntlet, Hoe Trail, and Clownshead, riders seeking more difficult challenges will get exactly what they want. On the most difficult trails, expect to gain up to 2,400 feet in elevation.

Along these well-kept trails, riders will encounter packed dirt, loose gravel, and tamped soil. Canoeing (equipment rentals and instruction are available) and fishing are also popular activities at Carvins Cove.

3. Smith Mountain Lake

Smith Mountain Lake, one of Virginia's most popular — and the state's largest — has nearly 500 miles of shoreline, earning it the title of "Jewel of the Blue Ridge Mountains." Because state fisheries keep the lake well stocked, SML, as it's known by locals, has an especially impressive striped bass population. Anglers can book half- or full-day charters with a number of licenced guides who have plenty of experience traversing the 21,000-acre lake. They'll provide bait, equipment, and all of the necessary expertise to ensure that those fishing have a safe and enjoyable time on the water.

Crappies, bluegills, largemouth and smallmouth bass, as well as stripers, are among the tasty fish that make freshwater fishing at SML a popular tourist destination.

Waterskiing and wakeboarding, boating and sailing, and jet skiing are all fun activities to do on the lake. Swimming is also available at a family-friendly beach, and there are several golf courses nearby.

4. Roanoke Valley Greenways

The interconnected Roanoke Valley Greenway allows visitors to walk or bike along miles of trails in the area, which are safe, well-populated, and well-maintained. A popular trail in and around Roanoke is right along the Roanoke River, where deer, herons, geese, and other wildlife can be seen even in the city. Vic Thomas Park, just off Memorial Drive south of the river, is a great place to start your exploration. From there, you can easily join the Roanoke River Greenway.

A short distance away is the well-known Black Dog Salvage. Every visit to this nationally recognised purveyor of reclaimed architectural, commercial, and industrial fixtures and elements yields a fascinating, one-of-a-kind inventory. Visitors come from all 50 states to see Black Dog, which specialises in doors, windows, wrought iron, period lighting, garden statuary, and other specialty home components.

Head southeast on the Roanoke River Greenway towards Wasena Park after visiting Black Dog. At the Wasena Skate Park, kids can be seen hanging ten on their longboards. The park is always bustling with activity, and the locals' fancy footwork on their skateboards and blades is entertaining to watch.

On your way to the Tinker Creek Greenway, continue on the greenway and cross the Mill Mountain Greenway. Follow that road north for less than a mile and reward yourself with a picnic at Fallon Park's picnic area.

5. Taubman Museum of Art

The Taubman Museum of Art, one of the city's newest attractions (it opened in 2008), is a must-see for art lovers and casual culture consumers alike. The museum's permanent collection of 2,000 unique pieces is spread across 11 different galleries, including works by Thomas Cowperthwaite Eakins, Purvis Young, and John Cage, and is housed in a stunning modern design by renowned architect Randall Stout.

Visiting exhibits featuring work by some of America's best artists, including John James Audubon and Norman Rockwell, to name a few, are common. Photographic, folk art, and design-related exhibits are among the other highlights.

If you're travelling with children, look into children's programmes, such as hands-on workshops and interactive displays. On-site amenities include a café.

6. McAfee Knob

McAfee Knob is one of the most photographed places on the Appalachian Trail, thanks to its incredible vistas and spectacular rock overhang perch. The 3.5 miles of intermediate-to-difficult trails that lead up to the knob from the Virginia 311 parking lot are popular with hikers.

Climbers know it for the more than 70 gnarly sandstone and slick quartzite boulders that make for days of mini-summits. The majority of boulders are between 10 and 20 feet tall, with many crimps, jugs, pockets, and edges. Bring pads, lunch, and a buddy; it's never a good idea to go rock climbing alone, and McAfee is often deserted.

Another popular recreational area in Roanoke is the recently re-opened Explore Park, which is located just off the Blue Ridge Parkway. The park features 1,100 acres of breathtaking scenery, numerous walking and hiking trails, as well as thrilling ziplines and a treetop adventure course that is appropriate for families with younger children. It also has a visitor centre and a gift shop, as well as camping and rustic cabins.

7. Bottom Creek Gorge Preserve

Bottom Creek Gorge Preserve is a popular destination for birders, nature lovers, and photographers. Bottom Creek, located less than 20 miles south of Roanoke, is one of the most important headwaters for the Roanoke River, and it offers visitors several well-marked trails to enjoy the vast hardwood forest, unspoiled landscape, and Virginia's second highest waterfall.

For the best vantage point to photograph the 200-foot cascading waterfall, the second tallest in Virginia, photographers should take the Red Trail (the longest trail here, at five miles round-trip). Bring a long/telephoto lens because the overlook at the end of the trail offers a clear, open shot, but the falls are a long way away. A side path off the Yellow Trail leads to other viewpoints of the falls.

8. Roanoke City Market

The historic City Market, also known as the Farmers' Market by locals, is open all year and offers boutique shopping, local produce, flowers, meat and cheese, local dining favourites, and some of Virginia's best people-watching. Pay close attention to the market's four mosaic tiled entrances, each of which contains over 2,000 pounds of porcelain tiles that reveal a little bit of the history of this storied public space.

9. Roanoke Pinball Museum

We’ve recently started a new family hobby – vintage record collecting! In keeping with this new found connection over the beloved old, we were delighted to take our girls to the Roanoke Pinball Museum and show them how we entertained ourselves long before the internet.

From the 1932 styles to the slightly more modern Munster’s machine which had a baby pinball inside the bigger one to play, you could get lost in here playing over 65 machines for hours.

Prime Home Buyers is a real estate brokerage firm based in Roanoke, United States. We are known for offering an easy and quick house-selling experience to our clients.

We offer upfront selling solutions to our clients, satisfying their requirements. We have been serving as real estate investors for over a decade and know all the tricks of this trade. Prime Home Buyers can provide you with the best real estate offerings and prices. We are the experts you are looking for if you want to sell your house fast and at the best price. Besides our expertise in buying houses, we also provide commercial property investment.

Business Location

#sell your house fast

[tiny-space-robot]

Okay so Fire Emblem anon here!! Here's a Kinda Super Long Bc I Got Carried Away description of a few Fire Emblem games, plus some characters that seem like they hit tropes you like!

The good news is that there's not a super huge overarching timeline, there's several smaller timelines that are seperate from one another except for the crossover games. I'm gonna go with describing the newer ones that you're most likely to be able to get your hands on and play; a lot of people complain that they lean into some anime-tropey stuff and are too easy, but tbh, that's a perk just as often as it isn't. Basically, it's Game of Thrones, but rated T and with more cute girls and old men who are friendly instead of creepy.

Tbh, it's a turn-based strategy game with visual novel elements for characterization, if strategy games aren't your thing and you're just interested in the characters, watching the support conversations on Youtube might be more your thing. All the characterization, none of the resetting the same goshdang level thirty times. Anyways, description of the games in passing, including a brief description of the plot concept, pros and cons, trigger warnings, and some characters you might be interested in if you're just looking up characters.

*line break for legibility*

Awakening: for the 3DS. Follows Robin, an amnesiac mage, after they're found in a field by a band of knights called the Shepherds. Involves the undead, a twink in a mask, timey-wimey shenangians, and the usual cast of oddballs you'd expect from a Fire Emblem game.

Pros of Awakening: customizable player character, intro of Casual mode (turns off permadeath) and the Pair Up system, which lets you put characters together for shipping reasons strategy and stat boosts. Also doubles as a shipping simulator, since you can pair off characters and meet their later in the game due to said timey-wimey shenangians.

Cons of Awakening: there are some....very concerning combos of names/skin tones/plot relevance for certain characters, so go in with a warning about implicit racism. Also if you like strategy games, this game is relatively easy to break and make "too easy," but tbh that's what Lunatic Mode (the Ultra Unfair Hard Mode) is for.

Trigger warnings across the main plot: underhanded politics, attempted assassinations, martyrdom, an optional character is implied to stalk Robin but idk how to tag that, identity crises, conflicts within a family, character who isn't you looks like you, backstory child abuse, an optional character is a bad portrayal of DID if you squint?

*line break for legibility*

Fates: is actually a group name for two games set in the same universe, and a DLC bonus story: Birthright, Conquest, and Revelations. All for the 3DS. All three games star Corrin, a pacifist raised in seclusion in the kingdom of Nohr. Each game reflects a different path Corrin can take in navigating the war between the nations of Nohr and Hoshido: Birthright has them stand with Hoshido, Conquest with Nohr, and Revelations has them strike out (nearly) alone. Each path has a completely different storyline, cast of characters, and difficulty curve.

Pros of Fates: honestly, the characters here cater the most to the avid pro-shipper and multi-shipper. I just love this cast. Both Nohr and Hoshido have four members of the royal family you can play and get to know, each of those royal family members has two retainers who are various levels of dedicated and/or unhinged, and the cast just widens and widens. Also a character customization and shipping simulator point for the same reasons Awakening gets it. Also, canon fujoshi rights (there's a character with a skill called Daydream, which boosts her stats when two male characters are paired up near her. one of us, one of us). Also the first game with canon queer characters: both Rhajat and Niles are bi.

Cons of Fates: unfortunately, the writing is kinda rushed or badly translated in some places. Also *shakes IntSys* my lore! Give me more lore! Also, iirc, you could get both physical games in a bundle for a discount when they came out, but not anymore, so it's sorta like Pokemon with version exclusives. Which is less fun, since you can't directly trade characters. Also the fandom for this game is RIFE with discourse, which is kinda sad bc I just wanna talk my ships with ppl sjxhdjdn

Trigger warnings for Fates: child abuse might as well be Nohr's middle name, in-universe racism (since Hoshido is p obviously Japan-inspired, and a lot of Nohrians are rancid to Hoshidans), kidnapping, on-screen murder, lots of fighting your loved ones (on both main routes, you gotta fight the playable characters from the other side AAA), su-c-de, death of sibling(s) in certain routes, demonic-like possession, there's like six characters people can read as bad mental illness rep, Niles especially is discourse bait for being a kinky (yes that's canon) bi man of color but also he's awesome so die mad antis

*break for space*

Shadows of Valentia: for the 3DS. A remake of Gaiden, the second game in the series. Follows Alm, a farm boy from a small village in Zofia, and Celica, his childhood best friend. Zofia and the nation to its north, Rigel, are two nations ruled by the dragon gods Mila and Duma, respectively. Normally, they're in equilibrium, but Rigel is invading and Mila is missing, prompting Alm and Celica to independently investigate the problem.

Pros of SoV: the most like the old-school Fire Emblem games, but it also has the permadeath-off mode. also the first to be fully voice acted! The art style is gorgeous, and the plot was polished up from the old game--two characters names Berkut and Rinea were added, and they are PEAK OTP the diskhorse can die mad. Also the cast is pretty fun all around, from buddy squad and the older brother/dad figure they adopted along the way to "hello this is my gang of childhood friends, we're gonna kill a god" Also introduces Mila's Turnwheel, which lets you rewind your moves if you realize you goofed big time and screwed yourself over.

Cons of SoV: has the most references to other games, but you won't, like, be lost if you don't get them. You just might have a few interludes of "who tf is Camus/the White Wing Brigade/etc" but it's easy enough to look up on the wiki. Also tbh, the plot kinda drags in the middle, there's some filler battles to try and make it feel more realistic and it feels...weird. Also no custom character, you are Alm and Celica and you will Like It.

Trigger warnings for SoV: you know that thing where a girl character gets killed off for a guy character to angst over? the game starts with a fakeout version of that. also a character slowly goes mad over the course of the plot (but it's really well done imo?), there's some self-sacrifice stuff in there, classism is a major theme, possession/selling your soul™, there's a couple of levels where you're exploring tombs/prisons, I'm sure there's something else but I'm forgetting right now

*line break for legibility*

Three Houses: on the Switch. The newest game in the series, and the most polished imo? Stars Byleth, a wandering mercenary turned teacher at the Officer's Academy. The Academy, housed in Garreg Mach Monastery, teaches youths from across the land of Fodlan how to be warriors, commanders, and knights. Students are sorted into three houses based on their country of origin: the Black Eagles are from ghe Adrestian Empire, led by the heiress-apparent Edelgard; the Blue Lions are from the kingdom of Faerghus, led by prince Dimitri; and the Golden Deer are from the Leicester Alliance, led by Claude, grandson of the Duke. You choose one of these houses to lead, and then everything quickly goes sour.

Pros of Three Houses: It's such a rich experience! The music is incredible, there's so much lore, and you can wander around the Monastery and hang out with the students to your heart's content. Also, it's four storylines for the price of one, even if they're all relatively similar in the first half. It does a pretty solid job of weaving together its themes into a satisfying narrative that will make you consider everyone involved. Also we got our first bi main lord (Edelgard) and non-white main lord (Claude is mixed race) in one fell swoop! Also, given the setting, it's teacher/student ship heaven.

Cons of Three Houses: just gonna come right out and say it: one of the villainous factions in the game is pretty substantially tied up with some anti-semitic tropes. There's no way to ignore it, it's just bleh, and I'm not gonna send anyone in without that warning. Also, though there's some characters you can persuade to switch sides, or spare, there's no route where there's a happy ending for everyone. Also there are so many people who are fake deep about the themes of the game, so be ready for the worst takes imaginable about your faves. also super trigger heavy, see below.

Trigger warnings: MANY. Garreg Mach and the Church of Seiros are very reminiscent of catholic religious stuff, for anyone with religion triggers, blood in cutscenes, death of a parent, death of a sibling (different characters), major gaslighting vibes in some places, lots of people going unhinged, some white savior™ vibes in places, body horror, creepy ass weaponry, backstory genoc-de (mostly not related to the anti-semitism), blood magic (definitely related to the anti-semitism), in general it goes to a lot more effort than the other games to make you think about what's Actually going on, even if it doesn't always work.

*break for legibility*

As for characters you'd like, if you just want to look some characters up, my recommendations based on what I understand about you include:

Awakening: Libra fits 'gnc man of the cloth' so well it's actually a conversation in game: "so what's a woman of the cloth doing here?" "...man, sir, man of the cloth." And Then He Never Gets Misgendered Again. Also Nowi's supports sometimes feel like a jab at antis-- she's a manakete, a person who can transform into a dragon. Manaketes also grow really slowly, as in "middle aged looking manaketes are like 1000 years old," so she's got major baby face and copes with being mistaken for a teenager by making jokes. Also Gregor, who she first appears with, is pretty fun--older mercenary with a thick accent who is like 80% here for a good time. Also Walhart, who's a villain but got some content added as DLC.

Fates: any interactions between Corrin, Leo, and/or Camilla are probably right up your alley--Camilla is obsessively protective over her siblings in a way that's Very Definitely Platonic™, and Leo also canonically has a crush on her in something that was cut in the English release. Also Gunther--once upon a time he was your classic knight in shining armor, now he's semi-retired, Corrin's personal guard, and covered in scars (and his voice is gorgeous too)

Echoes: my biased answer is to listen to every single line Ian Sinclair read for Berkut because he absolutely did NOT have to go that hard. My actual answer is to point you in the direction of the pegasus sisters Catria, Palla and Est, or maybe the older gentleman who's the head of the Priory, I forgot his name oops abbdbd. Also Clive is a devoted husband to one Mathilda, who looks just like an older version of his sister Clair 🤔

Three Houses: knowing you, you'd adore Hanneman--an older professor who's extremely passionate about his work, to the point where he tends to forget personal space and such. Also Seteth, like I mentioned before (join me in simping for him and his gorgeous pecs) and like, honestly, I know ppl make jokes about Alois but he's rlly good. Soft, awkward but he doesn't care, dad jokes everywhere. And also Mercedes, both because she's the biggest sweetheart imaginable and everyone should love her, but also bc she is just walking potential for the kinds of stuff you post on this blog. On one hand, she's the oldest student at the Academy and attached at the hip to one of the youngest, Annette (tho people act like they have a way bigger age gap then they actually do) and on the other hand, she has a long-lost half brother she can encounter (who I will not name for HUGE HUGE spoilers reasons) who she spends the rest of her life with in one of her endings. Heck, he has three possible endings total! Total!

Basically I brought the games up bc I'm used to being on the side of the fandom where everyone shoos anything uncomfortable under the rug, but there's so much material here that's being wasted I SWEAR

If you have any other questions I can send another anon? Your call! Thanks for hearing me out I love ur blog :3

OKAY!!! sorry for answering so late, but this ask was pretty much a BOOK (not that I´m complaining though! thank you so much! ;;u;;)

and from what I read here, I THINK if I´m going off on my first fire emblem adventure, I´ll try and pick up three houses if I get the chance! I have read your trigger warnings (thank you so much! ;u;) and I think I can take it! >:3

again though, I am really, really not a fan of anime and the anime artstyle in general (blergh! XP) so I´m not sure how I´ll cope with that in particular, but then again, an artstyle does not make a game! u3u

AND HANNEMAN SOUNDS LIKE A WINNER TO ME!! I looked him up and OOOF!!! he may not have NEARLY as many wrinkles as I´d like him to have, but the facial hair is definitely a step in the right direction! ;3c

NOW YOU GOT ME INTERESTED!! 

LETS GO!!!!!!!!!!!!! (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻

[cosmicpeko]

Tool ㅡ Chapter 1: Rage

Word count: 1,071

OTP: Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu x Peko Pekoyama | Danganronpa 2

Story type: fanfiction

Short summary: Peko Pekoyama dives into her most precious memories in an intimate journey to self-love, trying to live with emotions she can’t control and to discover what is like to be a real person. More notes at the end.

Read on AO3

ㅡ

My voice repeats: I am a tool. I was brought to this world to be by his side; I shall fulfill my purpose.

Mid-march rain falls on a wet wooden floorboard. Semi-open sliding door of the minka house hidden in the woods allows the wind to enter between the internal walls, run under the furniture, play with the paper on the floor ㅡ it untidies the room.

It caresses blonde hair. Freckles expose to the water ㅡ silky smooth skin becomes its path down to the pointy chin, through the neck, hides in the collarbones. Drops rest on his lips, tongue catches them, it drinks. He's smiling. He's relaxing every muscle of his body. He's resting ㅡ he's letting go. He breathes deeply. "I love rainy days. It feels like time stops for a while. Doesn't it, Peko?" A calling voice awakens my thoughts. Head raises, shoulders tighten. Humidity hurts my bones, angers my bruises. "It does indeed, Young Master." Red eyes wandering to finally meet hesitant green ㅡ I shall converse more, he demands, silently, as he keeps his gaze on me. I apologize. "...It feels like the sky is in a rage, too, though slowly but surely, it will pass. It has a rash temper, and it needs to let its anger go, then eventually, it manages to stop. Sometimes, it calms itself immediately, sometimes it destroys everything that falls victim under his reign. Mother Nature gave it immense power over us." Green eyes look delighted. Sweet humming slips from his still-smiling mouth. "You always get this poetic, dontcha? It's a women thing, you give them nothing, they play with words around it until they done covering it in fuckin' pink and flowers." He laughs. "How are you even 18? You sound like a nostalgic granny." I do not know what being poetic means. I happen to imagine inanimated objects embody different personalities. My Master ㅡ he reminds me of the sky. Every mood he owns is similar to its changes. He is calm and still like a summer night, he is impulsive like a storm. He is cheerful and fresh like a newborn sunrise, yet he is pained and melanchonic like a dying sunset. I've lived enough to see them all. "Does it hurt?" I am unworthy of his worried touch. But I don't dare to move. "It does not, Young Master." "Peko- you're literally a whole purple thing. Not even a mashed sweet potato looks this ugly." "I do not feel pain, Young Master. I live to serve you at my fullest - I need to be trained." Careless fingers gently press over the darkest spots on my left arm, then retreat, as he searches for even little hisses or whimpers of mine. Not one sound leaves me ㅡ I learned how to control myself with time. But I can still feel it ㅡ broken bamboo swords echoe inside my ribcage. Pristine fists turning purple and blue. Heart broken. Soul stronger. "Fine," his figure rises again and stands tall in front of mine. Distress contained in a self-hug, "I know this is your job and all, but please, don't push yourself too much. You are already strong enough. Just yesterday, you beat the shit out of that asshole at the pub like he was planning to destroy the world." "I do not deserve your worry, Young Master." "Peko, I said quit that "Young Master" shit-" he stops, suddenly, eating his own breath. I cannot decipher what is that is eating the perfect green of his iris as his gaze locks into mine. Something I never quite encountered before. Rage ㅡ but not the same as the sky's, nor the storm. Something different. Hot wind of the desert, carrying sand and flames. Burning hills. Searing gardens.

I am ashamed of how long I have been staring into my Master's eyes.

Hands rub together, trying to reduce the silence into a paste of aching shame, cold sweat, shivers ㅡ quickening heartbeats. "Fuckin' quit it, Peko." he repeats, voice calm and still. Summer night. "We agreed on it since we're starting school together again. I asked you kindly - this is starting to feel like I'm commanding you and I do not. Want. This shit. Got it?" Composure fights distress in an internal war I do not desire nor understand. I am still capable of holding myself back. "Yes-" tongue plummets in my throat "yes." "My fucking name, Peko." More heartbeats. Uneasiness. Silence. Composure. "I said what's my name, Peko." Head rises. Eyeballs tremble. Rain drips through blonde hair, through freckles, through silky smooth skin. The wind stopped cutting my cheekbones. "Young Master." Quick steps and pace ㅡ few seconds pass before his skinny figure starts rushing towards me. Red eyes follow instinctively like those of a fox preying on a rabbit in the snow, hands steady, knees firm. Last breath, a millisecond. Hold. He does not attack me. Instead, he kicks the wall behind me, where my back was laying, seeking relatively satisfying rest. I do not move, but I quiver. He retreats, then shouts. "My fucking name, Pekoyama!!!" Mind goes blank. Ringing sounds conquer my eardrums in a blink of time.

"Yes, Fuyuhiko!!! For God's sake!!!"

A growl leaves with the wind, scratches my throat and steals my breath. Every wall of the minka house shakes as I step upwards, stand taller than him, confront him unconsciously head-on. Teeth unraveled like fangs.

"When did you lose yourself, tool?" I want to know. When did I first witness my balance crumble. When did I allow emotions to get the best of me. How. How did I lose track of my inner being. "Don't you ever forget your life's only purpose. You don't get to have any other meaning than that."

How dare I confront my Master like that.

Instead, something is born anew through his face. Simultaneously. Fresh and wet sunrise across shiny lashes. He saw me, getting weaker under his command for the first time. He knows something I don't know. He sees something I don't see. He cracked me open.

Delicious chuckles flourish beneath his teeth. "Let's go," abstract flowers crown his newborn smile, perfume so numbing, "I want to go deer hunting last time 'fore we join a brand new hellhole." The distance between us increases as he runs outside the safe perimeter, completely run over by pouring rain.

He holds the keys to my soul.

ㅡ

So hello again. I really hope you liked this first chapter! More are to come. Peko is an extremely fascinating character to me and I can’t wait to dig into her a bit more and let you meet my version of her personality! This was heavily inspired by @thewildwilds beautiful art. 

A special thanks to her, who indirectly taught me to love Kuzupeko in a brand new way - I’m so obsessed with them. (I also really hope she sees this ,,)

#danganronpa #danganronpa2 #fanfiction #kuzupeko #fuyuhiko kuzuryu #peko pekoyama #romance #otp #a little poetic but it's just my style #also ily ahn #notice me senpai

[bvckysbitch-blog]

Butterflies

Summary: The reader is nervous about going to an awards ceremony and Bucky helps the reader through it

Warnings: A couple of swears, nothing else really.

Word Count: 1,870

A/N: It’s taken me a lot of time to get back into writing. I don’t know if this will be a regular thing but I had an idea on my day off today and wanted to put it out there. It’s also been a while since I’ve written something that wasn’t academic so don’t be too harsh lol.

You stared at todays date on the calendar, reading the words hastily scrawled out in red letters: AWARDS CEREMONY – 7PM. Looking down at the clothes you were wearing, you let out a deep sigh. If only you could rock up to these kinds of things in jeans and an old t-shirt. Alas, it was time to begin the long process of getting ready. Most people usually have a glam squad or something to help make getting ready a whole lot smoother, but you’re just a plus one so you don’t get that kind of luxury.

Walking into your bedroom you head towards your wardrobe, opening the doors and pulling out the only dress currently hung up in a fancy bag with the tags still attached. You carefully draped the item on your bed before sitting down at your vanity, staring at yourself. Every imperfection and flaw was glaring at you, like they were holding a sign and screaming at the top of their lungs for attention. Dark under eyes, spots forming here and there, uneven eyebrows and pores the size of potholes. You shuddered as you overanalysed yourself, reaching for your primer and applying it to your face. There’s only so much a person can do when striving for perfection and unfortunately awards ceremonies demand perfection – especially when cameras are involved.

You apply your make-up as best you could, eventually accepting the fact that your skills do not match those of make-up artists and set about styling your hair. You decide that soft and loose curls are the best way to go about things and start curling your hair, focusing so hard on trying not to burn yourself. Eventually your hair is curled and set and all that is left is to don the dress that lay neatly tucked away in a bag. You turn around in your chair, eyeing the hidden dress uneasily. The last time you were this glammed up was for your senior prom and that was terrifying then. Knowing that your photograph could end up plastered across the internet for all to see sent your stomach churning. What would people think? What would they say? Would it be a good idea to make your accounts private so that you wouldn’t be verbally abused by people? Okay, stop it now. You’re being silly.

With a deep breath, you rose from your seat and headed towards the dress, unzipping the bag and staring at the deep red hue of the dress. It was mesmerising to say the least. You thought the dress was beautiful and stunning. A work of art for no more than $150 but you knew there would be people there in outfits that cost 10 times the price. Regardless, you picked the dress up from the bag and pulled it on. You loved the lace bodice and sleeves, the little embellishments that made the dress look as though it was dripping jewels in certain lights. Zipping the dress up, you stared at yourself in the full length mirror. The dress hugged your figure perfectly but something still wasn’t quite right. You delved into your wardrobe, searching for the one pair of shoes you knew could bring this look together. With a triumphant smile, you slipped the heels on and looked at yourself once more. You could still see your imperfections, but they weren’t as loud anymore. If people were looking for what was wrong then they weren’t appreciating what was right. You were satisfied. Not happy, but satisfied would suffice.

Grabbing the belongings you would need for the night, you stuffed them inside your clutch and called for an Uber to pick you up.

Half an hour later and you were around the corner from the venue where you had agreed to meet your date for the night. You fidgeted nervously with the hem of your sleeves, wondering how long he was going to be. You reached into your bag and pulled out your phone, opening up your last conversation.

Y/N: Heyy, how long do you think you’ll be? x

B: …

You watched as the dots appeared, then disappeared just as quick. Letting out a resigned sigh, you put your phone back in your bag, settling for watching the world go by as you waited. You played the game of imagining why each person was doing what they were doing, who they were going to see or where they were headed.

Finally after what felt like forever, a black car pulled up beside you and the passenger side window rolled down. You leaned forward to see who was in the car when Sam’s head popped out the window, a smile on his face. “Well don’t you scrub up well! Hop on in!”

“Oh, I was supposed to be meeting-”

“I know. He’s in the car.” Sam said with a smile. “I didn’t think it was right for you guys to walk to an awards ceremony.”

You nod your head as Sam disappears back inside the car, opening the back door and scooting yourself inside, trying not to crease your dress. No more than two minutes later and you had arrived at the venue. A red carpet was rolled out and there were photographers clambering for the best shot. You could feel your palms getting sweaty and rubbed them against the side of the seats, taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself.

“See you kids in there.” Sam chimes, climbing out of the car as a barrage of flashing lights streak across your vision.

As the lights begin the fade, you look across at the man next to you, a small smile spreading across your face. “You cut your hair!” You exclaim, noticing how much younger he looks with his hair cropped short.

“Well, I decided to see if I did feel like a different person with shorter hair.”

“And...?”

“I feel lighter that’s for sure. A different person not so much.” He says with a chuckle before a soft quiet falls over us. He looks outside the window for a moment before turning back to you. “I think its our turn. Ready?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

You let out a nervous laugh. “As I’ll ever be.”

He reaches for the door handle, a small click sounding as it opens.

“Buck?” You whisper just loud enough to grab his attention. He stops and looks at you, his eyebrows furrowed with concern. “Don’t let me fall.” You whimper, your voice giving away how nervous you really were.

Shaking his head, he steps out of the car, painting a smile onto his face as he walks around to your side of the car. The door opens slowly and the camera lights are flashing so quickly you feel like a deer caught in headlights. Bucky holds out his hand for your and you take it willingly, holding on to him as tight as you could for fear of falling. Bucky shuts the car door behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist and guiding you towards the doors of the venue.

“You look beautiful.” He whispers, giving you a quick squeeze and making it feel like butterflies could explode out of your chest. “Let everyone else see it too.”

You come to a stop in front of a small ‘x’ and look up at Bucky wondering how someone who had endured so much pain could still have so much more left to give to the world. “I guess we need to smile for the cameras and pretend like we’re not shitting it.”

Bucky lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head, “Got it in one.” He says, plastering a smile on his face.

You follow his lead, smiling for the cameras and following what the photographers suggest before heading inside with Bucky. The second the doors are closed behind you, you feel your legs turn to jelly and rely on Bucky entirely to get you to the closest seat. Your heart is beating erratically as you sit down, trying to focus on your breathing rather than where you are and how many photos must have been taken of you.

“Are you okay?” He asks, sitting down beside you.

You nod your head, trying hard to breathe in for 7, hold for 6 and breathe out for 5. You can faintly hear someone else’s breathing only slightly louder than usual and find yourself starting to match their breathing pattern, your heart rate eventually slowing down.

“I read somewhere that sometimes it helps to use someone else’s breath pattern to sort of reset your own.” He says, placing a hand on your knee.

“Well, in this case it worked.” You say breathily, your cheeks reddening a little from embarrassment. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. It happens to the best of us. We just have to find the right way of dealing with it.”

You nod your head, smiling a little. “Buck, I’ve not really had a chance to say this yet but I’m glad you blipped back. I really like having you in my life.” You say, avoiding his eyes in fear that if your gaze met your face would be redder than your dress.

“I’m glad to have you in mine.” He says, taking the hand that was on your knee and wrapping it around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead and you can feel your heart speed up again for an entirely different reason, the butterflies threatening to escape once again.

“Took you long enough!” Sam’s voice booms from around the corner.

You look up, quickly scooting away from Bucky ever so slightly, directing your attention towards Sam. “What do you mean?” You ask, a confused expression crossing your face.

“Oh.. uh y’know, getting inside from the car. You know I was stuck talking to spiderboy whilst waiting for you guys.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you stood up from your seat. “You really need to ease up on that kid. After all he did beat your ass.”

“That was one time!” Sam exclaims, storming off to wear he came from.

You shook you head as you watched him go, feeling Bucky stand behind you.

“You know that’s not what he meant right.” Bucky whispers, his mouth inches from your ear.

You turn around, a small smile playing on your face. “Oh, I know. “ You say, readjusting Bucky’s tie so that it laid straight, your hand lingering against his chest. “Maybe someday you can show me somewhere a little more personal?” You say, quirking an eyebrow.

“It’d be my pleasure.” He says, taking hold of your hand and pressing a kiss to it.

You feel a blush creep up under your skin, pulling your hand away and clearing your throat. “Maybe we should save Sam from the kid.” You say, turning around and heading in the direction Sam went.

“You’re probably right.” Bucky says, falling in step with you.

“I don’t know how much help you’ll be though considering he kicked your ass too…” You say, trailing off as a smirk plays at the edge of your lips.”

“Again, that was one time.” Bucky says with a chuckle, wrapping his arm around you.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fic #sam wilson #peter parker

[fvaleraye]

Good Ol’ Ruins

i gave up on the name, i couldn’t think of anything better asdflknj aaaaand here we go asdlfkjn-

finally! a sort of first chapter to Scintillam! of course, this one will be focusing on Leona and Artemis going about a little adventure, as they are our heroines :V nothing tooooo crazy in this one? just smth to get y’all acquainted with them and their little world :V

it’s not too terribly long, but... i mean, nothing i write ever is feel free to let me know if there’s any grammatical errors and such, i don’t rlly read over my stuff much, bc if i do, i might never post it h- anyway, here u go-

It was a dreary, silent day in the Old Lands. Gray clouds hung lazily over the sky, rays of sunlight slipping through them few and far between. The ground was ashen gray with the stains of old calamities, no plant-life, from the smallest blade of grass to the tallest tree, was in sight, for few things could thrive in such an environment. Old ruins dotted the landscape, providing shelter and sanctuary for any creature that called these lands their home. Few dared to pass through, fewer still even considered exploration.

Deep in one particularly maze-like ruin, there were two of the latter category.

The gentle clinks and clangs of chainmail and plate armor in motion rang throughout the silent corpse of the once great structure. The woman in the armor was helmetless for the moment, as it was difficult enough to see in the dusk of the corridors without restricting her vision. Behind her was a large, white wolf, almost unable to squeeze through some of the smaller hallways due to its size.

As the intrepid duo stepped cautiously through the old stone and... metal? Corridors, they came upon another room, one of many. Several doorways leading to several more hallways, just like every other room. Finding their way out would be a daunting task indeed. Unlike most other rooms, however, this one was not empty. Scattered here and there were... strange... things. Seemingly metal constructs of various shapes and size. The knight started to root around in the chest cavity of one as her lupine companion sniffed around, investigating the rest of the room.

"... I still don't know how these are gonna help..." Leona mused, her voice echoing against the stony architecture. "I know Caecus said it'd help his research, but I thought his research was on dragons, not... ancient golems." She let out a sigh as she continued to search inside the hollow shell. "... I mean, I guess they could have been built by the dragons... we don't really know what they did when they were still around, huh Artemis?" She turned to her companion, who was still sniffing the floor. "... I don't know why I'm talking to you like you'll respond. You're smart, but you can't talk..."

Artemis let out a big sneeze, seemingly have snorted up too much dirt, prompting a giggle from the other.

"You're a big dork, and I love you."

The wolf just huffed.

After a moment, she pulled out a cracked, cyan orb from the rusting bronze mechanism. She whistled for her traveling buddy, and she came over, allowing her to set the orb in the bag on her side, alongside other orbs of various colors and conditions. The two continued to search the other old golems, though the first was seemingly the only one with a central orb intact enough to bring back. With that, they left through the rightmost corridor, and continued on their way.

A few more empty rooms later, and the greatwolf stopped in her tracks halfway down a corridor, ears flicking. Leona looked over her shoulder at her, raising a brow. "... what do you hear, Arte?" She let out a big huff, and started to crouch down, prompting the other to as well. They both stayed silent, listening, and eventually she caught on to the sound too. It was... singing. Not creepy singing, though any singing was creeping singing in a place like this, but more like... joyful singing. It was unintelligible, but the tone was there. A very... weirdly happy one. The two started to creep forward towards the source, the knight on point while the wolf followed behind. As they went through the corridors, one had a rare source of light, an eerie green tint on the blueish stonework, pulsing gently from a doorway. She snuffed her own torch, and crept forward. The room was similar to the ones prior, a perfectly square room, with very little decoration. Though, this one was filled to the walls with random bits of metal and glass and junk. In the center sat a tall... creature, cloaked in a dingy robe, singing to itself as it sort through everything in the room. Green-flamed torches were stuck haphazardly to the walls. She stepped forward, and almost immediately stepped on a bit of glass on the ground, mostly bits from broken orbs. The creature stopped singing, and slowly turned around.

It was sat down on the floor, legs crossed, wearing some dingy pants and its concealing robe, only the cover of the cloak keeping its disturbingly gaunt frame at least partially hidden. Its face was concealed, covered by a larger than average deer skull, most likely from a greatdeer, though long graying hair flowed from underneath its makeshift mask. On the antlers were many, many trinkets and charms, which clattered with every movement, and many more were on its body, hidden under its cloak. It tilted its head at Leona, and gave a few guttural... sounds. It didn't... seem hostile. Slowly, she stood up, glancing around at the room. It seemed to be alone. After a moment of silence, it scooped up some of its junk, and held it out, one long, bony finger pointing at her bag. She raised a brow at it. "... you... want to trade...?"

It didn't really seem to react to her statement, other than tilting its head. It didn't seem to entirely understand her.

After a moment, she noticed a small pile of orbs in the corner, a couple of them seeming to be intact and even glowing. Oh, Caecus will definitely want those. She raised a hand, and pointed at the items in question. "Can I... have those...?"

It glanced at her finger, before looking to where she was pointing. It glanced between the two points of interest a few times, before setting down its handful of bits of metal glass, and grabbed a handful of orbs in its near skeletal hands, holding them out gently. "... you... w-want... shiny...?" It asked, its tone halting and slow, but inhumanly deep and guttural.

She slowly nodded, glancing at the spheres in its hands. They were all... blue. That gave her an idea. She held up a hand, and briefly stepped out of the room. She opened up Artemis' bag, the wolf herself still very much on edge, and grabbed a green orb from the bag. It was one of several, and it was the most intact, but not completely like the ones the creature was offering. She stepped back into the room, and held out the green orb, the monster trader flinching in surprise.

After a solid few seconds of nothing, it set two of the intact blue orbs on the ground, and gently pushed them towards her, before hesitantly taking her orb in return. It stared at the object in its hands, before holding it close to its chest. "... I-I hath... shiny-shiny..." It said, before it started to sing in what was assumed to be its native language again.

She hesitantly began to step out of the room, the creature paying her no further mind, and stuck the new orbs in her partner’s bag with the others. "... I think that was a good trade." She mumbled.

With that, the two turned around, and set about trying to find their way out of the ruins, seemingly satisfied with their haul. They hoped Caecus would be satisfied with their haul, though they really didn't know what any of the things they were carrying were for. Nobody did, really. But the mystery was half the charm of these little adventures.

#Valerie Writes #Scintillam #Leona #Artemis #there we goooo... #first chapter! first drabble! first whatever! yay! #i dunno how long it's gonna be until the next one; but asdlkfjn- #also! these will not be in like. chronological order. #i'll put them in chronological order on the masterpost #but i won't write them as such asdfkljn #so... keep that in mind #anyway! #i hope y'all enjoy reading this ^^ #and reborks are appreciated; if ur feelin' so inclined-

[lordmartiya]

Fox Rain chapter 5

@lilanette-week

@supermenteuse

@emblian

@starcrossed-stardust

@theitalianscribe

@thekitsune

@volpinarena

Some school life. Just simple school life. And if you believe that the Akuma class can have “just simple school life”, let me tell you the French government is planning to sell the Eiffel Tower for scraps and I’m their agent. Oh, and there’s totally no reference on just why Lila recognized that Fox Miraculous Holder on the book. I swear! On the other hand, parts of this and some of the next chapters are based on quicksilversquared’s “A Different Kind of Inspiration”. P.S.: Let me thank the Lila Protection Squad Discord for some help-turns out the cultural differences between the various parts of Italy are greater than I thought.

Chapter 05: Slice of Life

It was a calm Saturday, and Lila, not having bonded much with her classmates yet, had thought to take the chance to try that place suggested by her friend-and it had indeed satisfied her mother, for the time being. Still, Maria, not having a friend proud of certain traditions, was puzzled by the name, and asked about it.

“This place, this gym, started out as a Savate club-and our art may have been born in the south but was later forged in the street fights of Paris during the Belle Epoque, fights that involved gangs called Apache(1).” the professeur, Remy Eclair, explained. “Some of my colleagues don’t like bringing it up, but I feel we should remember the errors of the past so we won’t repeat them. That being part of why we slowly expanded to offer a few other styles and our students are trained to compete in MMA tournaments: the other instructors and I aspire to teach young men and women how to avoid our mistakes.”

“I see.” Maria replied. “But why the Omega?”

“I like the letter, why?”

Both of Lila’s parents pinched their noses at the reveal. Lila, on the other hand, was savoring the situation: she needed proper venting, and perfecting her boxing skills(2) and learning something new at this Omega Apacheria was just the thing.

“Hey! Aren’t you my cousin’s new classmate?”

Lila turned, and saw Bridgette Dupain in a full Savate outfit-and someone expected to enter and possibly win the World Games(3) in Muay Thai. She didn’t want her interest in MMA to become public, and not just because of the (small) chance it’d get her exposed at Vorpika, but keeping Bridgette from getting it out will be worth the chance of training with Anansi.

_______________________________

“And now you know.” Marinette said to her Kwami, who had just heard why Marinette had known how to calm Lila-and a few other things. “I-I’ll understand if you’ll want a better Ladybug, I mean-”

Marinette was interrupted by Tikki hugging her head, calming her down.

“What you told me is why you’re an amazing Ladybug.” the Kwami replied.

“But-”

“My past holder Jehanne and her family had to face hostility for their loyalty to the Crown, she even had her house burned, and yet she was always calm and sweet, and proud of having never killed once-just like you, in your way. Just try and not be too generous like her…”

“I suppos-wait, Jehanne, too generous… YOU MEAN JEANNE D’ARC?!”

“No, Jeanne Romée, from Domremy…”

It would take a while, and Marinette’s parents asking why she had shouted about France’s national hero, before Tikki realized that her most self-sacrificial user was known with a different name now(4). And so much pressure on Marinette.

_______________________________

“Auroch, do you have a moment?” Remy Eclair asked to the gym’s boxing instructor. As “quirky” (to say the least) and greedy as he was, the American boxer he had nicknamed after the ancestor of cows was a great asset to the gym, having helped his students perfecting their use of fists and quickly dealing with any problem or information need-just like what he needed to ask him right now. “I need you to find out a few things about our newest student.”

“Let me see.” the boxer said as he took Lila’s file. “Dammit, name too long to be unmockable and too short to be mocked properly, a bit unlucky for being Ladybug’s friend. So, what do ya need to know?”

“Her mother was quite insistent about us teaching restraint.”

“Say no more. And no, being a diplomat’s daughter won’t stop me.”

_______________________________

“So what?” Vorpika said to Ladybug that night when they and Chat Noir met for patrol and the spotted heroine explained what she had found out from her Kwami.

“But-it’s Jeanne d’Arc! La Pucelle!” Chat Noir protested.

“Nǚwáng Húlí. Or if you prefer, Donna Volpe. She saved ALL OF ITALY in one fell swoop, and shortened World War II-because I doubt the Germans would have collapsed in 1944 if those seventeen divisions had been available. And do you see me complain about the pressure? No!”

“You and I have a much different sense of worth.” Ladybug said. “How am I supposed to be worth of her?!”

“As my grandmother used to say, you aren’t, just do your best and surpass her. And if you fail… Well, you still did better than you would have done otherwise. You’re my pard, and I won’t let you make me look bad.”

Ladybug blinked for a moment, and just hugged her ally, much to Vorpika and Chat Noir’s confusion. It would take a while before she realized what she had called Ladybug.

_______________________________

“You can ask, if you want.” Ladybug said to her partner after the patrol ended and Vorpika had left.

“Why did you hug her?” Chat asked, as expected.

“She called me a pard-and in Italy they use that word only for the true friends, at least if you read the right comics(5).”

Chat looked at his partner as if she had suddenly grown another head, so ridiculous the idea was, before reminding her of one thing: “My Lady, she’s planning to beat you to a pulp as soon as we’ve dealt with Papillon.”

“Come on, if Chloe can be nice to some people then Lila can become friendlier.” Ladybug replied. “I know she can.”

_______________________________

“Welcome! Glad to see you here!”

Lila blinked at the strangeness of the situation. She had already realized that Chloe Bourgeois wasn’t the friendliest person, and yet that Monday she had arrived at school early and was greeting all her classmates-with the most strained smile she had ever seen when it came to Marinette. And now she had been greeting her with a sickeningly sweet tone in her voice-the kind that made her itch to punch the talker in the face.

“Come, I’ll bring you to the infirmary.” she said instead, half sarcastically and half actually worried the blonde had some mind-altering condition.

“Miss Bustier insists we all take turns in greeting our classmates, now move your ass and get in.” Chloe replied with a less abnormal tone.

That explained it-and she didn’t like it. She could be wrong, but in Lila’s book such a trick hinted at the teacher being desperate about some bullying-and not having any idea this kind of things didn’t work. It was worth investigating it-maybe she had been underestimating Marinette. Who knew, maybe she’d become a friend, or a pard, and-

“PORCA MATRIGNA!”

And she finally realized what she had called Ladybug. But why?! She couldn’t be growing fond of her! Not after what she had done! Or could she? She needed to take out Papillon soon, or she may forget she’s supposed to squash the bug!

_______________________________

“What was that?” Alya asked Marinette.

“I think it was the Roman equivalent of parbleu.” was the answer of the one who understood Italian. It had to be that, otherwise she couldn’t explain why Lila had insulted the stepmother she didn’t have. “No idea why, though.” and that was actually a lie-by Lila’s deer-on-headlights look, Marinette strongly suspected she had just realized she had referred to Ladybug as a pard. Something to give her back her good mood, after what she had just discovered the previous day.

“A bit strong for that… And I don’t think she has a creative block too.”

“Alya!”

“You think there’s a spot for her too?”

“Wait, you mean today? It was supposed to be just between us…”

“And you said you think she needs a good friend-and maybe she can help you with that block.”

“You’re right, but-”

“Hey, Lila! Are you busy today?”

Alya being Alya, less than a minute later Lila had promised to go with her at Marinette’s house. And having started to understand the Italian girl, the future host just hoped it wouldn’t go too bad…

_______________________________

“Marinette, dear, is this to get around the pet ban?” Tomas Dupain asked his daughter after taking a single look at Lila-much to said daughter’s embarrassment. And fear. Why, of all the embarrassing things he knew about her, he had to share that?

“What do you mean?” Lila asked, suspicious about the situation.

“Oh, nothing much-Marinette wanted a pet fox as a child, but we couldn’t let her due the bakery.” Sabine Cheng added.

And while Alya-the traitor-snickered at the news, Lila slowly turned to Marinette, surprise having replaced suspicion on her face-and then she apparently realized something, by the look she shot her before lowering her head.

“I can’t believe you…” she whispered, anger in her words. “All of this… I trusted you… And you only wanted my body! You pervert!”

Neither Alya nor Marinette said anything, the former was too busy laughing openly at what was happening and the latter was looking at the hammy fox with the same face she had when she had found out Kim was crushing on Chloe. And she wasn’t finished.

“Still… I love you so much!” Lila said, moving in the most melodramatic way she could and offering her hair to Marinette. “Here! My foxlike hair! It’s yours!”

Marinette just used it to drag Lila to her room, making sure Lila was following so she risk harming her or ruin that hair (if Juleka and their old classmate Mina were any hint, people with hair that long tended to be quite proud of it), quickly followed by Alya as soon as she realized they had left while she had been laughing.

_______________________________

“You’re just too easy to tease.” Lila said after they had reached Marinette’s room and got her hair back. Then she realized another thing. “And as unbelievable as it sounds, you aren’t the first one with the same reason to be attracted to my foxy charm. And no-” she continued as Alya looked about to ask who she was talking about “I’m not telling who. It’s her secret, and it came out in a rather embarrassing situation.”

While she didn’t show it, Marinette was relieved by Lila’s willingness to keep Ladybug’s secrets. Then, of course, she asked something she had hoped she wouldn’t ask: “Now, why did you girls wanted me here, exactly?”

“We’re friends, right?” and of course Alya did exactly the wrong thing: deny any ulterior motives.

“Leaving aside we’re not that close yet, I’m the daughter of a diplomat, I’ve experienced far too many liars much better than you will ever be.”

“She thought you could help with my creative block.” Marinette admitted before Alya could make things worse.

“Yeah, my girl just got caught a case of thinking she can’t do it, comparing herself to the big names like Gabriel Agreste, or Valentino.” Alya continued, repeating what Marinette had improvised to hide she felt not up to task of being Jeanne d’Arc’s successor.

Lila just looked at them with a  strange smile, then she asked Marinette: “Can I use your PC for a moment? I need to show you a few things.”

“Sure.”

Lila went and connected to the Ladyblog’s wiki, and showed some of the data Alya and others had found on past Holders of the Ladybug Miraculous: “Here she is: La Mariquita, had a decisive role in the Mexican War of Independence, some even attribute to her the utter failure to even leave port of Barradas’ expedition and their recognition of Mexican independence in the same year(6). Now, this stained glass window in Notre Dame shows Jeanne d’Arc, that Jeanne d’Arc, facing Jacques “Darkblade” d’Argencourt in her 1429 attack on the city-that may have well be aimed specifically to destroy his supposedly demonic sword(7). Oh, and this one I actually saw a couple times when I lived in Tokyo, Ladybug’s immediate predecessor Benten-chan(8), who gave her life to annihilate a terrorist organization, finishing the job started by her predecessor Bo Rùa. Who, if I read among certain lines right, also played a part in France doing the smart thing with the Việt Minh in 1946(9). Ladybug knows of these ladies, and sometimes she feels overwhelmed… But still soldiers on, doing her best to be as good as them if not better. And considering that, from what I’ve seen, the only reason you aren’t Ladybug was that whoever held on the Ladybug Miraculous after Benten-chan’s death met Ladybug before you… Agreste, Valentino, and Coco Chanel together won’t cause you problems for much longer.”

Marinette was of two minds. On one hand, she appreciated Lila’s attempt at helping her, even with the lie-she hadn’t known of La Mariquita and Bo Rùa until Lila had mentioned them, and had only suspected that one of Tokyo’s past superheroes had been her predecessor. On the other hand… How was she supposed to compare to them?!

“Come on, I know Coco Chanel was revolutionary, but you are a genius too.” Lila commented, guessing the wrong reason for Marinette’s barely repressed panic. Then she finally gave a less disastrous suggestion: “Have you tried to look around the city for inspiration?”

Marinette just pointed at the bulletin board near her desk and the dozens of sketches of people and monuments on them.

“Then, what about the Station of Lyon(10)? To paraphrase a certain saying, the best part of Paris is the train from and to Rome(11), to better appreciate the best places in the world, and just a glimpse may help.”

It took a moment for Marinette and Alya to realize Lila was actually serious about that.

“I should actually go there to feel inspired by Rome…” Marinette replied.

“At this point I could suggest a brief break, but if you intend to go pro you can’t have that, or the fabric store.”

“You’re a genius!” Alya added. “Mari, she’s right, maybe the fabric will talk to you.”

“I think you’ve been watching too much Project Runway, Alya.” Marinette replied after snorting and rolling her eyes.

“Well, have you?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Then, field trip!”

And so, the aspiring journalist dragged the other two girls to Marinette’s favorite fabric store.

_______________________________

As she visited the fabric store with her tentative friends, Lila thought at the strange situation, also wondering at just why they hadn’t asked her help. She could understand in the diplomatic world, what with the absurd mix of lies and truths international relationship were based on, but among common people she felt it was stupid.

Still, in a way they were bonding, even if she felt Marinette too had some hidden reason for it-the girl struck her as somewhat paranoid, and allowing a recent acquaintance in her room was just too strange.

Not that she wasn’t manipulating her herself-she hadn’t suggested the fabric store just because her composer uncle used to go at the music instrument shop for inspiration, but also because she had seen a certain announcement on the web, and she was waiting for the store to put it on their announcement board. And if her intuition was right, it was just the challenge the pigtailed genius needed. And maybe even unnecessary, by what she was hearing.

“It does, from what I can tell, but I get squicked out by the whole ‘it’s actually skin’ thing, I think.” Marinette was saying to Alya, answering a question if leather draped well. “If I could get past that, I could probably come up with some ideas for jackets and whatnot. Jagged Stone has some amazing leather jackets that I'd love to kind of replicate, but… Skin. It gives me creative block.”

“Then I know just what you need.” Lila said, knowing it would also work with her original plan. Then she spotted an employee stapling the awaited announcement at the bulletin board, and as she pointed to it she added: “In fact, it’s actually two things you need-and one has just come out there.”

“Wait, what-Mr. Agreste is holding a design contest! Oh, no, this is the worst possible timing! I don't have any ideas!”

“Read it in full.”

“’Outfits must be designed using nontypical fabrics. No cotton or wool knits/weaves, silk, et cetera. Fastenings such as buttons and zippers are allowed. Contact Bessie Leroy with questions.’” she read off the flier, before adding she was a lower designer at Gabriel. Then she looked at Lila and asked: “Did you knew?”

“Checked their page this morning to have something to speak with you and Adrien, and discovered an early announcement. At a guess, he wants to know what kinds of materials are out there and the best way of doing that is a contest, or maybe he’s tired of contest dominated by silk dresses. This little trick should push designers out of their comfort zone.”

“Yes, but this will make it harder to be inspire-what’s that smile? It’s-”

“Predatory? Scary? I probably showed it off to Ladybug when I was Volpina-because it comes out only when a plan comes together and I came quite close to win. But I digress… Now, tell me: did you know there’s a material almost identical to leather but made out of cork?”

Five minutes later it was Marinette to drag the other two back to her home, already having the basis for a design. The fact that, as long as one followed the very simple and clearly outlined procedures, Agreste would pay for the materials in order to let potential talents with little money enter his contests and (hopefully) his company, something Marinette believed had been his missing wife’s idea and he continued because it worked and Lila believed was simply the result of him being a good and astute businessman, meant the budding designer wouldn’t have troubles with her design. The only thing that hadn’t been going well in Lila’s opinion was the red-and-black combo that would homage Ladybug, but in Paris that was the same as wearing orange in honor of Donna Volpe and the actual Volpina back in Rome, and she could take it. Then Marinette surprised her. Surprised her, and triggered her mistrust.

_______________________________

“I said I want to fit this to you, so you can have it once I’m done with the contest.” Marinette repeated. She was a bit surprised herself by what she had decided, but she just wanted to do it.

“Why?” Lila asked, suddenly cold. “This is the kind of things one does for their friends, and unless I’ve missed something we’re still at the “friendly acquaintances” stage. Or you want to become friends really, really fast?”

In hindsight, Marinette realized she should have seen this coming, considering what she had realized about Lila. But it wasn’t a problem, all it took was to remember where she had hidden her pre-Ladybug diaries this time (she had thought the traps were enough, but after Chloe sent Sabrina to steal her then-current diary she had decided to increase the precautions) and show one to Lila.

“Here. Read a page, any page.” Marinette said after picking it.

“Did I hear something that could have been a lock or a deactivated bear trap?”

“Sabrina stole her diary once.” Alya explained.

“Oook…”

Lila took the diary and opened it, slowly reading one of the page-and then widening her eyes and reading it again, and three times, and then flickering through the pages. It would have been comical if she hadn’t know what caused that reaction.

“But-oh-Madonna santa, ched’è ch’a puttana incora campa?!”

“I wonder that myself.” Marinette replied as she took back the diary. “And please, don’t correct the situation.”

“But-”

“Don’t. She’s not worth the trouble. But… Do you understand now?”

Lila just nodded.

_______________________________

“Did you have to shout that loud?” Remy asked his fellow instructor as he, Nora “Anansi” Cesaire and Bridgette came to him.

“No, but it’s funnier. And it’s about your research.” Auroch replied. “The girl’s got boxing in the blood, her father, Andrea-he he-Rossi-”

“It’s a perfectly manly name in Italy(12).” Bridgette pointed out.

“Whatever. Anyway, her father Andrea Rossi was a boxer, and was expected to get the Olympic gold and then gun for the Heavyweight championship but he injured his hand right before the selection, and by the time he healed he had to look for a steadier job, if you get what I mean.”

“Uh-hu.” Nora replied before noticing something on the screen. “Wait, the date of his retirement-”

“Congrats, you noticed one of the reasons for the parents’ protectiveness. And you won’t ever hint to anyone about it. Anyway, as I was saying the man taught his daughter how to fight, enough she won a few amateur matches and even got in a kickboxing one ‘bout five weeks ago… An’ now you’ll see why the lady was so insistent on restraint.”

Auroch opened a YouTube video, showing Lila in a kickboxing getup facing a blonde girl and giving her a rather unsettling glare, while the blonde smirked. Said smirk disappeared once Lila hit her with a one-two on the nose, followed by two other crosses as the nose started bleeding and continuing until the referee intervened.

“That was a bit harsher than I’d expect from two teens.” Remy commented.

“You say that-last guy I’ve seen hitting with such determination was Buster Douglas in Tokyo, and I see no dead mom for the girl(13). They had a score, and Rossi settled it-and the still alive mom doesn’t want a repeat. Something I can understand, wouldn’t have got in so much trouble had my parents done the same.”

“Well, I suppose we can help the girl too, can’t we?” Remy said. “We’ll have to count on you girls-Bridgette, you’re about the same age, and you, Anansi… Well, the girl seems to look up to you.”

“No problem, boss!” Nora answered while Bridgette struck her chest in the Savate salute.

_______________________________

“It’s good, isn’t it?” Andrea Rossi asked his daughter as they dined. “After Selah, your mother and I were starting to fear you wouldn’t trust new people.”

“I’m not letting that fatah(14) win.” Lila coldly replied, the contempt for the other girl evident in the use of Arabic in place of the usual Romanesco. “But where’s mother?”

“At the embassy.” Andrea replied with a sigh. “She called in earlier and said she’s got an important translation to complete.”

“I see.”

After dinner, Lila went back to her room, thinking about the day’s discoveries, when Trixx had to ask her about one thing:

“Isn’t your mother too important for translation work?” the Kwami asked.

“Welcome to the diplomatic world, where you lie even to your family and they won’t call you out.” Lila replied with fake mirth. “I think she got involved with something from the intelligence… Or it may just be a secret negotiation, or who knows. Or cares. All I know is that she has disappeared again. And right as I’d need her advice. Again.”

“It’s about the Bourgeois girl, isn’t it?”

“Who else? I mean, you’ve seen what she did. And don’t you try and convince me you didn’t read that diary…”

“You should support Marinette when she needs it. Dealing with the bullies should be the teachers’ job, and doing it in their place could get you in trouble.”

“So, just watch and do the bare minimum?”

“Unless she crosses the line. I mean, it’s not like she’s a danger to you, right?”

_______________________________

Chloe Bourgeois alternated looking Sabrina and the phone with the article her friend had just pointed her to.

“Well well well… Didn’t think the new girl had something like that hiding in her past…” Chloe said once she was past the shock.

“It’s not exactly hidden, I mean, there’s articles, and-” Sabrina pointed out before getting cut off.

“It’s a figure of speech. But this explains a lot. You said there’s more?” as Sabrina nodded, Chloe just grinned, knowing that one recent problem was about to be solved.

Notes

(1)”Apache” was the name given to a particularly ferocious (from which the name, comparing them to the perception people used to have of the actual Apache) criminal underworld subculture active in Paris in the early 20th century, subculture that survived the police’ attempts at suppressing it because the gangs would stop fighting the moment they spotted the police and in total they outnumbered them about five to one. Due the powerlessness of the police, the Parisians fought it themselves until, in 1914, Joseph Gallieni, military governor of Paris, managed to convince them to join the army in defending Paris from the invading Germans… At which point the Apache found themselves in the middle of World War I, with obvious results.

(2)Lila actually shows some knowledge of boxing defensive techniques in the series, mainly her surprising nimbleness (boxing footwork) and the famous scene of the “killer napkin” (a reflexive parrying).

(3)A multi-sport event meant for sports not included in the Olympic Games, held every four year, one after the latest Summer Olympics, with the athletes being the best in their respective disciplines. Combat sports at the World Games include Ju Jitsu, Sumo, Muay Thai (as stated), and Karate, though the latter could be missing from the 2021 due being disputed in the Tokyo Olympics.

(4)According to the trials transcripts, Jeanne (whose name at the time was indeed spelled “Jehanne”) herself stated that, at Domrémy, it was use to take the maternal surname, if one had a surname at all-hence Tikki referring to her with her mother’s last name and not with her father’s.

(5)Specifically, Tex (Tex Willer for English-speaking audiences), where the word is used by the characters to refer to their friends, and, most significantly, the four main characters, some of the truest friends in comic books, do the same and are referred by fans as “The Pards”. The readers would recognize said word, and considering Tex is Italy’s most popular comic, even among adults…

(6)In real life, Barradas’ “Spearhad Division” actually landed in 1829 and was promptly defeated, and Spain would not recognize Mexican independence until 1836. But as Astruc revealed a past Ladybug Miraculous Holder fought in said war…

(7)Darkblade’s nickname was in English even in the original French, and we know Jeanne d’Arc, who attacked Paris in 1429, was a Ladybug Miraculous Holder, so…

(8)Complete OC.

(9)Simply based on the fact a past Ladybug Miraculous Holder is confirmed as Vietnamite.

(10)Contrary to the name, this is one of Paris’ train stations, whose full name, Paris-Gare-de-Lyon (Paris Train Station of Lyon), comes from the fact most long distance trains departing from there pass from Lyon.

(11)Specifically, the Roman saying is “There’s one good thing about Milan: the train for Rome”. Paris and Rome, however, have an exclusive twinship because, supposedly, “Only Paris is worth of Rome; only Rome is worth of Paris”, so…

(12)Andrea, deriving from the Greek “Andros” like its English counterpart Andrew and the French one Andrè, means “manly”. As far I’m concerned, it’s more embarrassing for a girl to have that name.

(13)In 1990, James “Buster” Douglas was a “journeyman” Heavyweight boxer approaching his retirement when he was given a shot at facing then-undefeated Heavyweight Champion Mike Tyson. Given their, well, everything, everyone knew this would be another half-round glorified sparring session for Tyson while his manager got around organizing the big match with Evander Holyfield, thus no US arena would host the fight, leading to it being fought at the Tokyo Dome, the only Las Vegas casino that accepted bets gave Douglas 42-1 odds, and Tyson didn’t adequately prepare himself… Except Douglas’ mother died 23 days before the fight, and for her he fought like he had never done, or would. After the ten most hellish rounds of his career, Tyson lost by knock-out.

#lilanette #miraculous ladybug #miraculousladybug #lila rossi #lilarossi

[smeraldos]

blindside [pt. 2]

truth or lie: you can’t keep a secret. [college!au]

part 1 <       > part 3

pairing: jeongguk x reader

summary: you’re too good to be true.

a/n: sorry for the long wait - i’m a turtle and life keeps me busy, so please bear with me. no JK in this chap because you get the spotlight (but he will make an appearance soon). hope you enjoy🌸

to the people who supported my 1st chap: thank you x 3000 - i don’t think i can say it enough. please see the bottom!

…

What you liked most about Taehyung was that he still had some Geochang in him. Granted, it hadn’t been long since he’d traded an idyllic riverside for the lights and smog of Seoul, but the part of him that others chided as rustic and unrefined was what you saw as honest. 

Secretly, you wished you could be more like him. And maybe you would have, if this city hadn’t made it impossible to. Without a thick skin, you’d be a deer in the midst of wolves. 

“Haesoo,” he called out from the paint aisle, “did you see any Holbein lying around?”

“The gouache?” You yelled back. “They ran out yesterday, but I placed an order. They should be coming in next week.”

There was a distant clatter in response, then Taehyung exclaiming “leaping lizards.” Sounded like he’d knocked over an easel. “That picky ahjumma won’t let me hear the end of it.”

“Then don’t tell her,” you said.

“She’s going to ask about it, anyway,” he lamented, coming into view. His hair was freshly black then, starkly illustrating his handsome features. Any girl would save a country for someone like him, although you had never seen him take advantage of it. 

“Good luck.” You returned to your book. “I’ll be cheering you on silently.”

Only the light melody from the speakers responded. Manager Min had a talent for finding poignant music, and right then, it swept you up in a breeze, a wash of waves along the shore. A midnight trip to the beach when you were a child, determined and fearless, and your brother dared you to wade out as far as you could without looking back. 

And then Taehyung cut in, yanking you out of your memory.

“Hoping we won’t find–” he began, his voice startlingly loud. In fact, he was standing right behind you, peering over your shoulder. Snapping your book shut, you whipped around to glare at him. “What do you want?”

“Can you switch with me? That ahjumma seriously gets on my nerves.“

“You handled her just fine the last time. If you can’t, what makes you think I can?”

“You’re way better at keeping your cool, for one,” he started, but when it was obvious you weren’t going to budge, he switched gears. “I’ll buy you something. Just name the price and I’ll pay it.”

“A job for the marketing team at Samsung.”

“You can’t pay for that,” he retorted.

“But you can bribe someone,” you shot back. “That’s still a price to pay, isn’t it?”

“Are you kidding? I can’t go to jail.”

“Then sorry, I can’t help you.”

Pouting, Taehyung pulled at your arm. “Please? Just this once.”

“No.” You tugged it back. “Will you stop and get back to work?”

“Only if you aren’t contradicting yourself,” he pointed out.

“Okay, first, there’s no one–” Paying, you were about to say, but caught your mistake. Not only was no one in line for the register, but there was also no one in the entire shop besides the two of you. 

“Exactly,“ Taehyung affirmed, a playful tilt to his smile. “So since we’re not busy and I don’t have anything to read, can we switch?” He turned up the aegyo again. 

Gosh, Taehyung could be such a persistent child. You don’t even like reading, you wanted to say, but considered giving in to get him off your back. 

Just then, the bells on the door chimed.

It took Taehyung a second to resume the part of a proper employee, and in that second, you gave him a smug look. He stuck his tongue out. Then he strode over to greet the halmoni who’d stepped in, and you watched her glow as he’d talked, Gyeongsang satoori on display. She’d come from around Daegu, then, you thought with a smile. Taehyung always knew how to make a customer feel at home.

A minute later, Manager Min shuffled in with a huge, sturdy bag, dropping it off in front of you.

“What’s this?” You asked, turning the bag around to see the logo of an electronics company.

“Our new security camera. Someone’s going to help me install it later.“ He made his way around the counter, and instinctively, you felt your pulse pick up. That was the one thing you couldn’t control. “Did that new shipment of Jumi notebooks come in?”

“Half an hour ago,” you said, wondering why Min decided to get a camera now. It hadn’t been long since the old one had stopped working, yet long enough that it seemed he would go on without one. The surrounding area was relatively free of crime, anyway, and chances of a robbery were slim to none.

Had he somehow caught onto you stealing? You turned to meet his eyes. His expression was nothing out of the ordinary - no narrowed eyes or searching gaze suggestive of a question.

“Great,” he said, voicing out your thoughts. “And you restocked them?”

“As soon as they came in.”

Min nodded, satisfied. “I’ll take over the cashier, you go and help Taehyung-ssi.”

“Of course.”

“Oh, and Haesoo-ssi?” You looked back. “Jiwon-ssi’s farewell dinner is tomorrow. Don’t forget.”

“I won’t,” you assured with a smile, then greeted the next customer. She was slim, dressed in a dark pantsuit similar to the one your mother bought when you told her you’d accepted an offer to work at Hana Financial Group. In fact, it hung in your closet, the tags still attached. You couldn’t bring yourself to return it.

“Hello.“ The customer came up to you, smile sweet, eyes sharp. “Do you have the piano performance book for the Associated Board Exams?” She pushed a girl who could only be her daughter forward, prompting her gently. “What level was it, princess?”

The daughter, surprisingly, had tears in her eyes. Her mother bent to wipe them, murmuring what seemed to be words of comfort until you read her lips. “You don’t want the duster when we get home, do you?”

It was a mild threat compared to the items that had been doled out on you for discipline. This girl, however, was no more than seven. She wouldn’t know anything worse. Bravely, she gulped in a breath and met your eyes. “Four,” she said, voice clear.

You could barely say, “yes,” before a bell-like sound came from the woman’s pocket. She pulled her phone out and held it to her ear, telling her daughter to follow you while she left to speak outside.

Alone, the girl looked to you timidly. Her wide eyes glistened from the last of her tears, and if her mother hadn’t been within sight, you wouldn’t have hesitated to reach out and console her. As it was, you could only say, “Follow me.”

In the book aisle, you showed her where the Associated Board ones were kept and turned to look at her. “Do you like playing the piano?”

“Yes.” She met your gaze straight-on.

That would have convinced you, had you not seen the way her mother treated her or how her gaze lingered at the art section, curiosity burning bright.

“That’s good,” you said, handing her the Level 4 book. “Are you practicing for the exams?”

“Yes.”

“And did you make mistakes?”

She flinched, but maintained eye contact. “No.”

It was the face of denial. You knew that one too well.

Gently, you knelt down in front of her. “I didn’t say that was a bad thing. It’s how you learn and get better. If you keep practicing, you’ll do well.”

“But umma says if I make mistakes, I’m going to fail and make her mad.”

“Maybe at the exam,” you agreed, “but when you practice, it doesn’t count. When will you be tested?”

“Next, next…” She paused, thinking, then added, “next month.”

“You still have time,” you assured. “So mistakes don’t mean you failed, okay? They mean chances to improve.”

She nodded, slowly coming around to what you were saying. “Okay.”

“Please remember that,” you said, then stretched out a hand to her, opening your palm. In it was the origami ballerina you’d seen her staring at, the one of Odette from Swan Lake. You were sure Jiwon wouldn’t mind if it went missing. “And if there’s something you really want to do, don’t give up on it.”

Joy shone on her face as she took it from you. “Thank you.”

You returned her smile. “Don’t tell your umma any of this. It’s a secret, promise?”

She hooked her pinky through yours. “Promise,” she echoed, then tucked the ballerina in her pocket. 

You were glad she agreed. Not because you were afraid of her mother chewing you out; if anything, you could care less. You just didn’t want to make things harder on the girl, and you knew better than to get in the way between a mother and a daughter. You were a stranger, after all, not anyone close. All you could do was give her hope.

When the girl’s mother re-entered, you watched her run back, light catching on her hair. 

(In hindsight, that was probably one of the few things you did that was worth it.)

…

saved the best for last!  you guys mean a lot; i just didn’t want this section to bombard any new readers.

special shout-out to @jiminsarea for the ‘lil encouragement to continue; @scastro95 for commenting (actually, JK didn’t catch her - he just happened to look at her hands! it was a close call); @jkstrash1997, @baegukkiew​, @dammit-jjk​, @jjungkookvnv​ for reblogging; @ko0kle, @ctrl-alt-jeon, @chellllls, @deadleaves278, @wingsprainedhmelou, @jeon-shi for following; and everyone who liked the post (too many to tag!). i’m grateful for each and every one of you. thank you for gracing this humble work with your support 💜

hope you all keep reading, and if there’s a way i can support you as a creator, let me know!

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook au #bts au #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fic #jungkook fic #kim taehyung #min yoongi #my fic

[alessianikolaidis]

ABOUT ALESSIA. — ✦

A serene minute in the passing of time may be trivial to the hands of Fate but for Alessia, it is her first memory stored with perfect clarity. The trees rustled with the aid of a gentle salty breeze; the canopy had been thick, vibrant green, and thriving with the hum of life. A small break in the branches and leaves brought down the warmth and iridescent glow of the sunshine into a clear spot on the trail with two dandelions swaying in a rhythmic ebb and flow. With little noise and a gentle approach, a hind red deer trotted into the patch of sun and lowered its head to graze from the fresh grass still damp with dew. There were traces of the winter coat still left on the deer, but soon to fly away in the breeze and welcome the coming of spring. Five years old with the light of the world in her eyes, Alessia stood a distance away from the deer with a hand outstretched. Her hand moved to trace the top of the deer’s head and up along its neck, following the curve of its back. Ever so careful to not make any noise, the deer still looked up at her to meet eyes. A moment later, her laughter broke the silence of the woods as she felt herself picked up and swung around, hiked up onto her father’s shoulders to go back to the rest of the family. Alessia had never forgotten that moment in the woods and the feeling in that instant of meeting eyes with the deer. As a child and an adult, it became a fond memory.

Alessia’s childhood is one of brightness and spirit. A whirlwind of colors and laughter. She grew up ambitious right from the start, always a surprise for teachers or adults. With a whole world out there full of knowledge and possibility she wanted nothing more than to take advantage of it. The advantage gave her the ability to place herself above others and while she never did so maliciously – Alessia learned at an early age that being two steps ahead was very important. She was also a social butterfly with those around her – easy at making friends and any person who spent five minutes alone with Alessia could see the captivation in her words, in her intelligence. Perhaps what made it so easy to move away from Larissa and settle into a new environment full of unknowns. While she may have been young when her family moved away from Greece, it would always be her home. Her parents were more than happy through the years to continue educating her about the culture, the history, the mythology behind Greece. It took root in her being, something that she would later come to learn to be far more important than anything else in her life with the exception of one – her brother.

A shock to no one – Alessia has always been fiercely loyal. Those who have found themselves in her inner circle and her family have witnessed time and time again of her undying love for them. Any person to say anything of ill-will of her parents were met with the feisty power of Alessia – intimidating and unrelenting. And if any person dared to do such to her brother? Alessia would ensure they regretted the decision to have ever even had an ill thought in his direction. Unfortunately for those who have found themselves on her bad side, they never find their way back. From a teenager to the present time as an adult, Alessia will sever ties without a second thought after retribution has been paid. A woman of gentle smiles and witty prose, that is only one fragment of herself. There will always be the part of her that is a woman of fierce attitude and vengeful tactics. She has always given her whole heart to those she loves and will give everything else of herself to protect them.

Alessia completed her exams with high marks and went on to complete her biomedical sciences undergraduate at the University of Oxford – part of St. Edmund Hall her first and last year. A surprise to none, Alessia continued her education with the University of London at the Royal Veterinary College. Since childhood she’d been drawn to animals. Her parents had been supportive in her love and she grew up surrounded by animals. Fenrir the rabbit. Poppy the border collie. Pip, Locke, and Flint the miniature goats. Those were only a few of the animals that she’d brought home and raised. It was always a natural allure to them and as a person who enjoyed taking care of others, taking care of animals was hardly different. In some ways, better. Alessia studied hard with the intent of being able to one day help animals – to educate and give love to those that had been forgotten by the world. Professors often remarked on her extreme dedication and vision for the future she had set for herself. And a vision she had for herself indeed.

After graduating, Alessia bounced around from one place to another to gain experience and see the world. She continuously kept in contact with those she loved, visiting often, but she wasn’t satisfied with learning everything she could from one sole place. There would always be more people out there with more knowledge, more experience. However, there had always been a plan in mind. Since she moved away from Larissa, Alessia had the intent of returning. As a child, she’d told her parents time and time again that she would return home. As a young adult, she continued to tell her family that one day she would find her way back. Even in the midst of a mountain of lab work, essays to write, and social events to attend, she still found time to read on old history and mythology of her homeland. She talked to her parents regularly in Greek to avoid losing the language. Studied old architecture and art of the past. Her love for Greece never faded despite the distance. However, after the loss of a parent, Alessia went into a deep depressive state. Family is everything to her and she felt the loss in every part of her heart and soul. There were too many nights of sadness and tears. Too many days of just barely getting by before crawling into bed. And yet in those dark days, she found solace in the books she had on the old gods and Greece. The history.

When Alessia reached the point where she felt as if she had learned everything that was offered to her and she’d found herself out of the darkness she’d fallen into, she announced with full confidence that she would be moving back to Larissa. A ticket already bought. A home already purchased. She arrived in Larissa with hopeful ambition and her brother alongside.

ABILITIES. — ✦

The abilities of Alessia extends toward animals – the first and foremost being her ability to sense an animal’s emotions and understand them. It was easy for her to assume that it was a simple touch of being tuned into the animals within her home before realizing that it was more. Especially the more animals came across her path in Larissa. Since the manifestation, her abilities have come to light one at a time. Sensing emotions turned into communicating with animals – understanding simple words for the moment but slowly progressing into more as Alessia learns and trains her abilities. She has yet to discover her ability to heal but that is soon to come light and begin as with her other abilities. For healing, it’ll start with simple scrapes and bruises that can be healed before being able to heal wounds and broken bones. She will not be able to bring any animal back from the brink of death – there’s a limit to her abilities. And in the matter of death, she would not interfere unless someone unjustly took the life of the animal or she could see a future benefit to doing so. To heal, tame, or start the process to control any animal, she will need to touch them. Communication can be done through sight alone. When more animals are involved, she can extend her abilities to multiple animals at one time but with the limit of five at most – she can try to push for more but it becomes messy and harder to control. If the animal is entirely unwilling (threatened by her, fearful of her, etc.) and she’s not able to communicate her intentions, when she releases control it will cause the animal to charge or attack her. Alessia will also have to be careful with concentration. If she is controlling any animals’ behavior, concentration breaking could also mean being attacked or causing disaster in some other form. The overall idea with Alessia’s abilities in the future would be a discovery of a new ability and then fixation on advancing and perfecting.

#about