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helloheyhihowdyheya · 1 year

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Did You Miss Me?

Druig x fem!reader

Masterlist

Summary: When the Emergence began, Druig had to erase your memories of him. Now, he's come back to remind you.

Word count: ~4.5k

Warnings: Angst, Druig pining. Some swearing. Lots of fluff. Powers? Druig erasing memories.

A/n: I'm not done with Druig yet haha. I might write more for this story if anyone's interested. I'd love to know your thoughts, I'm pretty happy with this one. Thank you as always for reading <3

He watched you from afar. Trying to blend in with others around the park, he watched as you and a friend sat out on a blanket in the soft grass. Small plates of food and glasses surrounded the picnic basket, and you looked as beautiful as you’d always been.

From someone else’s view, he’d probably look relaxed lounging in the shade of the large tree, his back pressed against the bark. But his throat felt tight, his chest aching at what he saw. It’d been years, and you still took his breath away like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Then you laughed at something your friend said, the sound of it swimming to his ears and stayed there as he replayed it over and over again. Beneath the afternoon sun, he wanted nothing more than to lay beside you on that blanket — talk about anything or nothing, as long as he was near you. But you hadn’t laughed like that with him in a long time, hadn’t looked so at ease and happy when he’d said goodbye last time. How could he be the one to ruin that?

–

On that rainy Saturday, running around the little bookshop you’d been working at for a few years now, you barely caught a breath in between helping readers around the store. Weekends tended to be busy, but on a stormy day like this one, you couldn’t blame all the people coming in to hide from the rain or to spend a quiet day finding their next book.

During a spare moment, your eyes traced down the shop’s windows. You watched raindrops race each other down the glass and make the cement below grow darker. Absently, your hand reached up to your neck, trying to massage a knot out of the muscle running down to your shoulder.

You thought back to when you’d first come here, and you let your vision unfocus for a moment, the images of the occupied customers turning fuzzy. Trying to remember how exactly you’d gotten here always felt just out of reach, falling through your fingertips — like you’d been at home living your life one day, and the next, you’d decided to move here and begin your new life.

It’d been just as rainy the first day you came to the city, but the chilly storm had felt like a restart against your skin. In the back of your mind, you’d always wanted to have a bookshop of your own and live a quiet life among other readers, and perhaps a sweet cat.

And you’d done it, taking a job from an older woman, Carrie, near the edges of the city. Most days, you arrived early to help set things up and went home after your shift, or when Carrie shooed you away during a particularly slow day.

Your first-floor apartment was nothing to complain about, except for the draft your landlord kept “forgetting” to fix. You’d even gotten that cat after he’d refused to leave your door until you fed him — black as night, affectionate, and always hungry. You’d named him Orion.

Still, when you sat at a restaurant alone and listened to couples laugh together or when you couldn’t quite become lost in a book as easily, some part of you felt… off. Like you were one of the window raindrops that never moved, just watching all the rest pass by without you. And you were missing out on something.

Now, standing there behind the checkout counter and watching the water spill down outside, you saw a man looking in. People passed by with curious gazes all the time, but he stood on the sidewalk with an umbrella and hooded denim jacket. You couldn’t quite make out his face, but in the back of your mind, it felt as if your window raindrop had moved an inch or so. And that jolting feeling only sharpened into surprise when someone walked up to you.

“Excuse me?”

You blinked, your awareness coming back to you as a woman said those words with a soft grin. When you looked back at the spot, the man had left already — like he’d never been there to begin with.

Shaking your head, you returned the smile. “Sorry about that. How can I help you?”

She told you the novel she was looking for, and you happily brought her to the aisle as you both made small talk. You tended to avoid it, especially with all the current events that seemed to continually fill the news, most of them involving everyday threats and the superheroes to stop them.

But that’s what books were for you, you thought while giving her the novel — a brief escape from life to live another one. And even the customer’s excited thanks brought you back to your mind, away from those thoughts of the past, the ones you couldn’t quite reach.

They stayed away as you finished your shift and returned home, taking a warm shower and making yourself a cup of tea. But that night, through the rain that’d turned into a vicious thunderstorm, you dreamt of friends.

At least, they seemed to be friends as all of you — nearly a dozen people — sat around a dining table. The smell of the warm food nearly had your mouth watering, countless plates of it passing from person to person. Drinks and laughter flowed between these friends that you didn’t know the names of and faces you couldn’t recognize.

You also couldn’t catch any of the words they said, but you smiled with them as a feeling of familiar comfort settled into your body. Somehow, you trusted them. And as someone at the other end of the table raised a toast, to all of you — their family — you lifted your glass alongside everyone else.

While they spoke, the man sitting to your right wrapped his hand around yours and gave it a soft squeeze. Your eyes glanced down to where your fingers intertwined, each one fitting together just right.

But before you could look up at his face, a loud crack of thunder erupted, startling you awake in your dark bedroom. In the middle of the night, only the noise of your deep breaths filled the air, replacing the sounds of laughter and glasses clinking together.

In the silence that suddenly felt like too much, you shifted, staring up at the ceiling. Sweat created a slick layer across your skin, coating you in a haze. Sleep fought you for the rest of the night. When the morning sun washed onto your face, it felt all too soon.

But despite your tired eyes and having work off today, you eventually pulled yourself out of bed. The day was bright, and you were going to make the most of it… or at least change out of your pajamas. Your hand swept over Orion’s black fur as you went through your morning routine. You tried focusing more on the bristles of your toothbrush or the taste of your breakfast rather than on how familiar last night’s dream felt.

But you weren’t in a dining room, you were here in your apartment — the one you’d been alone in for a few years. Well, except for Orion, as you were promptly reminded while sitting on the couch. He nuzzled up against your arm, clearly thinking your time was better spent petting him than reading the new book you’d gotten.

You opened up the window next to the street before scratching under his chin. His purring joined the noises of birds and traffic in the background while you opened the book. You’d only made it two chapters before Orion jumped up, meowing toward the window screen.

“What is it, buddy?” you asked, sitting up so you could see out the window, expecting to see a critter outside. But you saw nothing, not even as he wriggled his head into the corner of the screen — the broken side that definitely needed to be sealed again. Your hands reached out to grab him back, but he’d squirmed through before you could stop him.

“Shit,” you whispered under your breath as you scrambled toward your door, your book clattering to the floor. Running outside and around the side of your building, your heart pounded, knowing Orion could go right into the street or get lost out here. You caught the end of his tail going around toward the parking lot — and the busy road beyond it.

–

He shouldn’t have been at the bookstore, not after creating this new life for you — away from him — when the Emergence began. After erasing your memories of him for your own safety. He’d said he’d come back, but he also promised to do what was best for you.

He should’ve left days ago. He’d be halfway home by now. But that’d mean leaving you, for good.

–

As you turned the corner, you didn’t find your cat sprinting away. Instead, he stood at the edge of the parking lot, his head happily rubbing against someone’s jean-clad legs. For a moment, you stopped short, watching Orion act so affectionately toward this stranger. All you could say was, “I’m so sorry, I’ve never seen him do this before.”

You scooped him up in your arms, despite the ongoing meowing protests he let out. When you lifted your head, ready to thank the man, your eyes caught on his. Any words fell flat in the back of your throat as you looked into the eyes rippling with the color of the ocean. Your eyebrows furrowed together, your head tilting to the side as you took in this man, a baseball cap covering part of his face.

“...Do I know you from somewhere?” Your question hung in the air between you two, your arms wrapped tight around your cat. Feeling a bit silly for even asking, you shook your head. “I, uh, work at a bookstore, so I probably see countless people every day,” you said, followed by an unsure laugh.

“Maybe,” he responded, offering a small smile — one that made your stomach flutter. He nodded, about to turn away when you opened your mouth once again.

“I didn’t thank you… for stopping Orion from getting away.” You held up Orion, giving him a smile of gratitude.

This stopped the man, his head tilting this time. “Orion?” he asked, an accent hanging onto his words. His eyes watching you began to soften. “I like the name.”

You weren’t sure why, but the way the man’s gaze settled on you and your cat made you feel calm — like your body resisted going back to your apartment just yet. Orion certainly didn’t take to just anyone.

But this was a stranger, and you had your cat back. So you gave another thank you and left the man. Before any other escapes could occur, you closed your apartment window with hunched shoulders and a sigh.

–

Standing outside the apartment, he rubbed a hand down his face, releasing a silent groan. That part of him telling him to leave, that you’re happier and safer here in this new life, sat heavy on his chest. Maybe in another life, you’ll have her, it said, trying desperately to convince him. But he wouldn’t have her in another life. Because he had thousands to live, and you only had one.

The other part of him thought about the life they could lead together — one where he didn’t have to force himself to forget your smile that made his steps falter. He’d nearly come clean just from how you had looked at him, your eyes sticking to him like honey.

He’d balled his fingers into a fist to stop from running a thumb across your cheek, from smoothing out the worries that filled your body. He wanted you to engulf his mind the way his powers could do to others, living out the rest of time entwined together in every form.

And dreaming of a life he’d selfishly choose — taking you away from everything you’d created here — hurt worse than walking away right now.

But… you’d recognized him. He saw it pass across your face. And you remembered that Orion was his favorite constellation. You remembered him.

–

For a bit, you tried to get back into your book despite Orion’s incessant meowing at the window. When you hadn’t made it past the one paragraph you’d been rereading for a half hour now, your mind reeling with the eyes made from the sky itself, you turned on the TV instead.

That night, after falling asleep with takeout in your stomach and an old rom-com playing in the background, you dreamt of a bedroom. Your bedroom, and of a man you couldn’t quite see the face of.

Morning light washed the room in a golden color, where you saw the back of him staring out the window. All of it shimmered under a fuzzy haze as his contagious laughter made you blink the sleep out of your heavy eyes.

You drew in the image of his soft hair, the color of warm syrup, and his pants that you could’ve sworn you’d seen before. Or least smelled, the soft scent of him bathing you in coffee and leather, along with something you couldn’t pick out, but it felt… familiar. He wore no shirt, the planes of his back open and calling for you to brush your hands along, mapping the freckles.

But you blinked again, and the bedroom shifted. Moonlight flooded the room this time, leaving the corners pitch black. The man with the brown hair paced back and forth, but his face again always sat in the shadows.

Somehow, you knew you’d had an argument this time — not a resentful fight, but a tense conversation that pulled your relationship, whatever it was, at the seams. Anger didn’t fuel it. You knew because in the cavity of your chest sat a deep sadness and worry. Your hand itched to reach out to him, but no matter what you tried, you couldn’t move.

All you could do was sit there and watch as whatever worry ate away at him. You woke up that morning with tear-stained cheeks. No one stood looking out your window like they belonged there. The early sunlight didn’t feel as warm as the one in your dream.

Your mind struggled to keep away from wondering what all this meant, even during your busy shift at the bookstore. It all felt half-hearted as you turned from customer to customer and shelved books in between.

You only snapped back into the moment when a child ran by and knocked the display you’d just built to the ground. You supposed that was one way to take your mind off of things. But silently, you cursed whichever god of fate was against you as the display also hit your water bottle, spilling it onto your shoes. A pained sigh eased its way silently from your mouth, the noise joined by the soft squelching under your feet.

The kid’s dad offered a “Sorry” and a look that said, “What can you do?” You thought there were several things he could do, but you just swallowed them down with a smile as you went to grab paper towels.

Between bending over to soak up the water and spending too long rebuilding the book display, your back ached by the end. Your fingers clenched and unclenched in painful movements, too tired to massage the knots from your stiff neck.

Carrie sent you home a little early, rubbing a wrinkled hand down your arm. “You did better than me. I would’ve poured the water in my shoes on him,” she laughed, and it brought a real smile to your face.

It kept you going as you made the walk to the nearby cafe despite your uncomfortable feet. You were at least going to end this day with a well-deserved drink in your hands. The scent of the shop’s bakery section hit you, and no sprinting children were in sight — already an improvement. You kept your eyes on the menu while you waited in the short line, already knowing your order but hoping reading the words would keep your mind off the day so far.

After the man in front of you finished paying, you ordered your go-to drink full of enough caffeine and sweetness to keep you from taking a nap the second you made it home. Off to the side, you mindlessly scrolled on your phone while your drink was being made. But quicker than you expected, another barista called your order.

You’d only taken a small step forward when a man grabbed the drink first. Pausing, a moment passed before the same order was called again for the next drink they set on the counter. Your steps began again, your hand wrapping around the cup and savoring its warmth against the skin of your palm.

The man grabbing the identical drink with all your usual add-ons — same size and everything — smiled at you. “You’ve got great taste,” he said, offering a small grin. “Got hooked on this drink a while back.”

Your smile in return dropped for a second as you finally looked at him. Your gaze found the sweep of his syrupy brown hair, traveling down to the intensity of his eyes on you.

“Hey, you saved my cat,” you said, looking between the drinks and him in slight disbelief. You weren’t sure why you were talking to him, but you found it came naturally to say something. Inclining your head toward him, you said, “I never got your name.”

He nodded. “Dru works.”

–

“Dru…”

He watched you curl your mouth around the name and knew you were going to be the death of him. He’d already known this when you first met years ago, but watching your lips say even half his name was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. And when you told him your name, he nearly laughed — as if your name hadn’t been his favorite word.

Makkari would’ve called him a coward.

–

“Well, Dru, thank you again for keeping Orion from becoming a street cat,” you said with a grin. You took a sip from your drink, the two of you moving off to the side.

“Oh, ‘s no problem. My pleasure.” You loved the lilt of his words, the way they wrapped around you in a hug. “But how’s he doing? Hope there’ve been no more escape attempts.”

Shaking your head, you let out a sigh. “No, thankfully. He just incessantly meows while I’m trying to read.”

You watched his teeth dig into the corner of his lip as he smiled. “Ah, not very relaxing then. D’you read a lot?” he asked, taking a drink — his gaze never leaving you.

“Only as a career. And most of the other time,” you laughed, your fingers picking at the lip of your cup. “I work at the bookstore next door. Do you read much?”

You quickly added, “I won’t judge if you don’t. You just came across as a reader.”

His eyebrows rose high, his mouth dropping open a little. “A reader? I don’t come across as one of those models on those steamy romance novel covers?” he said with a teasing look in his expression, his shoulders swaying. “I’ve got some things to change.”

You couldn’t stop the giggles from bubbling up at his comment. “No, no! I see it now,” you told him through a wide smile.

You pretended to look him up and down (really, it was only for the joke. Your eyes didn’t linger at all). The leather jacket and dark jeans hugging his body certainly fell into line with those cheesy romances you’d seen (and read). Holding back a grin, you pursed your lips. “After rescuing Orion, I think you’d be perfect for something like… My Purrfect Savior.”

His smile turned sly, disbelieving as he shook his head. “No… they can’t really be that bad.”

You nodded, letting out a breathless chuckle. “I swear on my life.”

His shock turned into a wide grin as laughter took over him, his shoulders shaking as he leaned toward you.

But the sound of his laughter, full of something warm and bright, had your smile dropping. Staring straight at him, maybe through him, you knew it felt identical to the one you’d heard in your dream last night. It felt like a blow to your stomach, sending you hunching over slightly.

His own face sunk, and suddenly, you hated that you recognized that look. It came with hundreds of moments that crushed against your ribs.

In an instant, memories rushed back into your mind — images of him, of his family, of your life together. A gasp escaped your mouth as you staggered back away from him. A whisper passed your lips.

“Druig.”

–

Fuck.

He knew you were going to hate him. But you sure said his name like a prayer.

–

Your breaths felt too shallow as Druig took your arm and your drink, guiding you out of the cafe with quick steps. The sun felt too bright against your eyes, suffocating. Or was that your lungs not working?

He took you to a bench to sit down on, his hand hovering over you — hesitant. You weren’t sure whether you wanted to be wrapped in his arms or to punch him off the bench. Your shaky hands pressed against your face, trying to keep you grounded.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. The man who was just a stranger now called you sweetheart, and he was no longer a stranger. He was your Druig, the one that’d erased your memories of the Eternals to keep you safe — against the wishes of your heart and the hot tears stinging your eyes when he’d told you. Despite you agreeing in the end, it’s for the best. It’d made the risk of him dying easier… if you didn’t know he existed in the first place.

“Please say something,” he whispered, his fingers finally making contact against your back, softly rubbing up and down.

The touch felt electric, buzzing full of a million things unsaid. After a minute, you rubbed your eyes with the backs of your hands, risking a glance up at him. “Is it really you?”

It’s really me. He spoke it into your mind, the first time he’d done so in years. The words came with a comforting weight that loosened a sigh from you.

As you stared at him, seeing tears of his own well up, something clicked into place. You lunged forward, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’re okay, you’re okay,” you whispered over and over again against his skin.

“I’m okay,” he murmured, resting his cheek on your head. “I’m sorry, this is not how I meant things to go. I… I almost didn’t say anything.”

“I should’ve known that when we agreed to do this,” you said, a bittersweet laugh coating your voice.

Silence passed, and you could feel the unspoken words in his throat. Still, you waited until he said, “Are you sure? I can make you forget again, if you wan-”

“Druig,” you said, the sweetness of your voice almost offset by your exhaustion. “Please, shut up. You’re not leaving me again.”

He let out a long, shaky breath that shook to your core. His tense shoulders finally slumped, his body leaning into you even more.

“I couldn’t stay away from you.”

“I know,” you whispered, just holding onto him. The rise and fall of your chest fell in line with his. Silently, you thanked whatever fate brought him back to you.

It wasn’t fate. It was you. Not much could’ve made me stay away from you.

Pulling back, you glared at him, though you were too happy to see him for it to look very real. “I don’t think I missed that part of you.”

He offered a sorta apologetic smile. “Couldn’t help myself. Missed all of you, your mind too.” He rubbed his hand down the back of your head, stroking along your neck as if to make the point.

You understood what he meant, especially all those moments when you’d felt like something was missing. It was always him.

“So it’s all over then? The Emergence — I saw it on the news a while ago, but what happened?” you asked him, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

He brought his forehead to yours, letting out a soft breath. “We stopped it. Then I had to get things settled in the aftermath, traveled with Makkari and Thena for a few years. I’m sorry I was away for so long, but…”

You knew. He did it for you, to make sure your life would stay safe.

“I’ve missed them,” you sighed out, smiling at the memories of the other Eternals. “Oh and thank you, for saving the world,” you said with a weak laugh.

He just smiled with you as he swiped his thumb along your cheeks, dragging the last tears away. “My beauty. I don’t know how you remembered. With my powers, that’s never happened to anyone.”

A soft smile grew along your face. “I’m not just anyone, Druig.”

His hands pulled your face closer. “No, no you’re not,” he whispered against your lips. His mouth brushed along yours before fully kissing you. It tasted of the years apart, as if making up for lost time. He kissed you until your lungs begged for air, making you reluctantly move back, settling in next to him.

He grabbed your drinks — the one you’d gotten him hooked on — and pulled you into his arms once again. You weren’t sure how long the two of you had been sitting there, the warmth still present on your lips. It wasn’t until the sun began to dip below the city’s skyline that you said anything.

“Love?” you asked, your eyes resting shut. His arm fell around your shoulder, the two of you watching the world together.

“Hmm?”

Laying your head back against him, you whispered, “Play me a memory of us. A happy one.”

So he did, flashing a memory into your mind — one where you met the other Eternals for the first time, their family immediately embracing you. And surrounded by joy and laughter, you still held onto Druig’s hand. A tether keeping you close, a lifeline.

The warmth of it seeped throughout your body, holding you tight. It played out all through the way home. You reminisced on the memories you’d missed and imagined the new ones you’d be making.

And back at the home you’d share together for a while, after finding your old life again, you laid with Druig in bed. Between retellings of all the events he’d survived, the two of you found moments of happiness — bright stars amongst the dark background. Or a strike of lightning illuminating the window, showing two raindrops entwining themselves.

The entire time, his hand traced shapes along your skin, his touch never leaving you for long. You savored the weight of him pressed to you, an ever-present reminder of what you’d missed, of what you’d both sacrificed. You fell asleep to his soft voice brushing against the curve of your ear, whispering “I love you” again and again.

That night, you dreamt of no one.

—

@reidslovely

#druig #druig x reader #druig x female reader #druig x fem!reader #druig eternals #druig x you #barry keoghan #the eternals #marvel

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matchbookarmy · 8 months

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Okay, I'm back. Sorry I needed a bit of a break from things. Just from everything. Not this blog but everything in [gestures vaguely] life.

As some of you know, my phone broke back over the summer and I lost all of my open tabs and where I was on my journey. That definitely was a setback and I didn't know how I wanted to handle it.

But now that I've had time to think about it, I've decided to.... restart my journey.

Lol.

Now I know you probably think I'm insane, but here are my reasons. When I first started reading I was only reading MCU based fic because I thought you had to choose a fandom on AO3. It wasn't for a while before I figured out I could just click on the ship's tag and see everything. So I was severely lacking in 616 fic. Also I didn't read everything when I started. I tended to skip AUs, a lot of the more kinky stuff. As I read more I opened myself up to a lot more types of fics.

And then finally my last reason is I want to change the way I interact with fic and fandom. I want to comment more and read WIPs and I dunno. I want to share and spread my enthusiasm. I also want to pull back in some ways, *except* on this blog. I want to get to know you and gush with you all about these two guys we love so much and all the creativity that gets poured into this fandom and this ship and these characters, the blood the sweat and the tears of it all.

So feel free to message me about anything. I try to be good about answering requests, though, I don't always have a fic that perfectly matches what you want.

I was thinking there's the findingstony blog that finds specific fic that you know exists, but maybe this would be a good place for people to submit things that they are looking for that they haven't already found. Like more general requests of tropes or plots that you want to read. Again I'll do my best to match you with something, but I'll also put them out to my followers (I don't have a ton but we'll see what the community can do).

Anyway, I'd like this to be a community to talk about all these things we love. I know I still have 2-3 unanswered asks, and I haven't forgotten them. For the person who asked for heartwrenching angst with or without a happy ending, I'm trying to decide if I want to rec you the most heart-shattering fic I have ever read. 🤔🤔🤔 (Are you open to Tony being evil?)

Anyway, does this restart mean that I may never get to some truly amazing fics at the end of the alphabet? Almost certainly. There are over 55k Stony fics on AO3. The first time I did this was a ship that had about 500 fics. I read them all in a couple months. I'm not going to complain about having too much good stuff.

But you can feel free to send in your own recs as well. Again, I'd love this to be a community, and a conversation.

Okay, well... I'm off to read. A couple of notes.

I will attempt to read every fic. There will be some that I do not finish. It might just be that it's not to my personal taste.

When I say everything, I do mean *everything*, which means that I may rec some fics that have content that you don't like. I will tag my posts accordingly. I'm not here to debate the ethics of fictional depictions of fictional characters in a fictional relationship with anyone.

I'm going to post as I go through. It's just easier for me that way. Also this way you can literally see my journey, lol. Posts will be scheduled for Saturdays, one post per week, unless my drafts start to get really full, in which case I'll bump it up to two posts per week.

Sometimes I may open a fic and save it in an open tag if I'm not in the right headspace for it, or if I want to read it but I'm not connecting with it at the moment. Or, if it's a really long fic, sometimes I'll intersperse other shorter fics in between chapters. So just because I skip a fic doesn't mean I didn't like it, or I thought it was bad.

Though I will give everything a shot, in general, kid fic is just not my thing, so you're unlikely to see many recs with that topic. But feel free to send in your own fic recs if there's something you really love. I'm sure others would love it as well.

I also generally tend to be not a fan of kink involving bodily fluids other than spit, sweat and semen, but I will give them a chance. Just don't expect a lot of recs for those. Also I'm not really a fan of age play. It's just not my thing.

The only hard pass for me is anything that tries to villainize Steve for MCU Civil War. That's a hard no for me.

Okay, I accidentally added a poll and it won't let me delete it, so....

Lmao - that was supposed to say goodness not goddess. 🙃🙃🙃 This is why I don't do polls. I am far too much of a mess to handle this kind of responsibility.

#personal post

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blueheartedmayor · 1 year

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royal runaway verse!!! >:3))

Christmas has proven to be a much different affair outside of the castle.

It’s the first that Prince Damien and the Knight have had since they became just Damien and Jay, and the adjustment has been… Odd, to say the least.

Damien’s seen little of Jay for the weeks approaching the holiday; they’ve been in high demand to help ensure the village is ready for the harshness of winter. Be it patching drafts in homes to keep the icy chill at bay, keeping the herds stocked with fresh hay, or hacking enough firewood to get every family through many bitter storms, there’s been few moments that haven’t been spent resting or being called to another job.

The distractions are welcome, truthfully. While Damien’s not been exactly slouching either, offering his own talents to the villagers by enchanting the women’s knitting needles and spinning wheels with a charm that threads the warmth of their own hearts and well wishes into the wool, easing the bitter ache of the elder’s bones in the cruel chill with a kind smile and soothing balm, and making the firewood stacking into a fun game for the children, Jay knows the festivities are reminding him of his lost home. They see the sadness that taints his smile when he sees a family embracing. The far off glaze to his eyes as the merriment grows to a crescendo, wishes of cheer and a kind new year being shared over a mug of mulled wine. He tries to hide it, in that agonizingly selfless way that he always keeps his grief and pain hidden close to his chest, but Jay sees it nonetheless.

They can’t stand it.

They spend days thinking of something to strike the melancholy down. Their prince’s (Still their prince, because he always will be, whatever the royal courts say be damned.) face should never be twisted with such misery, not while they still live and breathe to remedy it. But what can they do? The castle and its lavish parties are lost to them. The village has neither the resources nor the space for anything close to the festivities he remembers, and his family is equally out of the question. Though the letters from Celine are cherished, they’re as infrequent as they are dangerous, and few messengers would travel so far in the season, regardless.

Jay doesn’t know what to do. Only that they must do it, for if they see Damien bite back another surge of tears, they’ll surely snap.

The idea comes to them while they’re helping the farmers push a particularly stubborn bull into the barn for winter, and they stop so suddenly in their efforts that the bull stumbles into its pen in alarm. The farmers turn to thank them, but they’re already halfway saddled atop their horse by the time they open their mouths.

When they’re asked later what the purpose of their sudden galloping trip out of the village was about, they’ll claim that it was simply for supplies. And they wouldn’t be lying. At least not fully. They had brought back a hefty sack of candied fruits to be shared amongst the villagers for Yule morning, after all.

Its true purpose wouldn’t be revealed until Yule itself.

Damien’s bundled by the crackling fire, relieved that Jay had found time to fortify their own home against the winter cold as a storm rattles the windows and howls like a wounded animal just outside, when the knight themselves emerges from their room looking almost… Shy? They’re shuffling their gaze oddly as they join him by the fire, sitting with a nervous rigidness that betrays their nerves entirely. It takes them several moments to finally move their hands in sign without thinking better of it and restarting.

My Prince, I… I’m aware that this Yule has been… Difficult for you. As has this entire year. I cannot claim to be capable of bringing you even a fraction of the splendor and comforts of your past celebrations… I can only offer you this.

With shaking hands, they bring a humble parcel from behind their back to be placed in Damien’s hands. The paper it’s wrapped in is scuffed and torn in places from where it’s been left in a saddle bag, but the twine tied to keep it together has done its job surprisingly well. Should Damien open the package, he’ll find a worn looking copy of a tome of spells he’ll recognise from his once extensive library in his once royal study. It’d not been among the few books scavenged and brought with the pair on their escape; a sad thing, as it had been one of the prince’s favourites. He’s long since have likely accepted that such luxury items would never be his again in this new life, and yet… Here one is.

It’s not even close to what you deserve, I know, but… I hope even in its lesser state, it can offer you some sense of home, my liege. Jay’s quick to downplay the gift, cheeks flushing from more than the fire, and while it’s obvious that the tome is second hand and somewhat damaged, it still must’ve cost a considerable amount of gold. Or an insane amount of haggling. Perhaps both!

@frxgments-of-frxgments

A life after losing everything you were once familiar with was daunting. Going from a prince, to a disowned son, to a convict, to a wanted criminal, to a supposed nobody in a quiet village in the far corner of the kingdom was something that still took Damien by surprise when he stopped to think about it. He was slowly regaining the strength back in his muscles, and the cane for his damaged leg was being relied on less and less. If it wasn't for his Knight, he would have faded away to nothing in a prison, locked up for crimes he never committed.

His Knight - no, Jay, the only one who believed in him. The only one who ever listened and stayed by his side. The one Damien had loved since they were teenagers and was unable to confess due to fear they would be taken away. Even now, it all seemed very inopportune. Did they even like it here? He saw the way they constantly hopped from one job to another, even before the demand kicked in. Did they miss the safety and structure of life in the barracks? Was that something else the former prince had destroyed?

He needed to keep himself busy. Tutoring the local children and helping the illiterate with their problems only did so much. He began dedicating himself to his magic, refining the skills that he could remember to aid those who had been nothing but kind to the two strangers (surely they all knew the truth about who these two really were). He had to do anything to stop himself from thinking, and he didn't want to burden Jay any more than he already had.

But as the Yule season drew nearer, he was finding constant reminders that he had lived a lie. He had a sister who was kind, but distant, and parents that thought of him as a burden instead of anything useful. They were so sure of this, they saddled him with false charges shortly after they caught wind that Damien was trying to set some matters right amongst the corrupted family's reputation.

If he had never been born into a royal family, would he have been allowed a family like those he walked by? Would he have been granted parents that looked forward to seeing him, a sister who wanted to play games with him, and feel like he belonged? He wasn't jealous or angry at those that knew better; rather, he was mournful for what he would never have. It shouldn't be something that small that knocked him down, but it was merely another link to the chain of troubles and woe that had been pulling him under the surface.

He needed to keep himself busy. He had to do something to repay Jay's unwavering selflessness. They had thrown their life away just for him. They were destined for far greater than being a personal knight. Maybe they should never have stayed if they wanted to return to the army. Someone would instantly hire them. Damien could count on one hand the soldiers that were more skilled than his Knight.

And yet, they were helping everyone with jobs to prepare for the bitter cold winter. He needed to repay that favour, and so he set to work. Some of the local women had taken pity on Damien's inability to mend and darn clothing and began teaching him in payment for his magical aids. With their help, he had been able to craft Jay a...

Well, it was supposed to be a cloak made from a heavy, dark brown fabric that was going spare, with an internal lining of wool from the local sheep. Then it turned into a blanket with a hole at the top for the head. He was at an utter loss, until the ladies showed him how to attach a hood around the neck, and cut holes on either side for the arms to come through.

When alone, he would spend the rest of the afternoon casting enchantments on it - protective charms to shield Jay from harm, spells of warmth to keep the cold air out, incantations to make it harder to stain. Let it serve as the warm company that Damien longed to be.

It was awkwardly folded, placed in a reused sack, and tied with rope as neatly as possible. Should he present it to them on Yule? No, that wouldn't be fair. They have been so busy. What if it put them under pressure? What if they didn't want to do anything? It would be wrong of Damien to make assumptions. He stayed by the fire and left the present on the floor beside his feet. He would need to decide what the best option was.

Before he could, Jay emerged from their room, looking oddly shy. It was something that Damien forced himself not to dwell on, instead drawing his eye to the way they refused to show their hands until after they were sitting; and even then it was an awkward looking position. He was about to ask whether something was the matter, only for Jay so fumble and then begin signing.

"I... You don't need to worry about me," he started, a familiar argument after all this time. "We both know that life was..." Whatever he was going to say disappeared on his tongue as Jay revealed a gift. For him. A present.

Had they ever exchanged gifts, officially, while Prince and Knight? Right now, Damien was drawing a blank. He accepted the present with a quiet 'thank you' and placed it on his lap. Even if it would take very little to tear the damaged paper apart, Damien insisted on carefully untying the twine and revealing the present as it was intended to appear. It had been heavy, and he guessed it was a book, but he would not have expected to see the book that was once his trusted reliable when it came to spells. It had been the one book that hadn't been found when the maids were frantically trying to prepare a satchel for the Knight to take on the night of the escape. He knew it wasn't his copy, but that didn't matter. This book... It was here.

Damien was speechless for several long moments. Then, with little warning and tears in his eyes, he threw himself forward to tightly hug Jay. "Thank you."

He couldn't manage to say anything else without his voice cracking, but nothing more needed to be said. One of the few symbols of a happier life was here. He could properly resume his studies, and... Jay must have spent a small fortune on it.

It took nearly a minute before he felt composed enough to pull back to look the solider in the eye. "I... Don't know how you managed this. It's... I didn't think it would exist outside the castle. But I, um, I can't even say how much this means to me, Jay. T-there isn't a lot I can do in return, but I hope my present for you is adequate."

Trembling hands dropped down to lift the bundle on the ground. "I know it - it won't be like anything you would have worn this time of year in the barracks but I, I wanted to make you something to help enduring this freezing weather better." Slowly, the parcel was presented to Jay. "I hope you don't mind the colour. I... didn't really have a choice."

#(scheduled post)#(hope I can time this right)#frxgmentsoffrxgments #(read more is for long answer)

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keichan · 3 years

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Firsts with Sakusa Kiyoomi

A collections of firsts with Sakusa Kiyoomi

A/N:

I’ve had the idea of this story in my drafts forever now, but I sat down yesterday and finally brought it to life! I have never wrote for Sakusa before, but I hope that you guys enjoy my personification of him!

word count: 7.2k!

warnings: vomiting, nsfw content that will be italicized, swearing?

Please interact with this story! I’m restarting my blog back up and I lost a lot of moots! Send me asks and whatnot!

The first time you saw Sakusa Kiyoomi was when he silently strolled down the hallway in elementary school. He had a blank stare at all times. Never strayed too close to any of the other children. A gloomy looking child that you did not particularly want to approach. His hands remained glued to his side and looked to be sulking. He blended into the crowd but if you paid enough attention, he barely stood out. He crossed your mind for the slightest second before you were sucked back into conversation with your friends.

The first time you heard his voice was when he was talking to another boy in your grade level. Who you found out was his cousin. Their interaction was quiet and somewhat dull. His cousin, Motoya, asked if he wanted to go to an after school activity with him. Sakusa nodded briefly and said “sure”. His voice was quiet and bored. You wondered as you walked past the boys what they were talking about, however, you were quickly distracted yet again and proceeded to move forward without a second thought.

The first interaction between the two of you was your third year of middle school. Sakusa Kiyoomi was nothing but a background character in your life. You ever so often saw him since the two of you were in different classes. However, you shared a class with Motoya so it wasn’t too rare to see the boy.

You walked out of class upon dismissal, but hung around campus with your friends, knowing that your parents were at work and it was redundant to return so early. It was an unanimous decision to go to the convenience store outside of campus to grab a quick bite with the chore money that took a few weeks to rack up.

Walking outside of the gym a volleyball rolled to your feet. You picked it up before looking to your right to see who it belonged to. Sakusa Kiyoomi walked calmly over to you with his hands at his side. There was no one else in the gym. He was playing by himself.

He came to a halt, looking at you expectedly. You fidgeted the ball in your palms before asking. “Are you practicing all alone?” He nodded curtly with a deadpan expression that said give me the ball.

“I see.” You tossed him the ball gently before following your friends that have already walked ahead.

At the convenience store you grabbed things you thought Sakusa may have liked.

“Why are you grabbing so much? Also, I thought you didn’t like daifuku.” Aya commented as she browsed the shelf next to you. Your nose scrunched up. “I’m just craving it.” You shrugged her off. She didn’t reply as she grabbed a carton of apple juice.

All of you checked out and parted ways in front of the store. It wasn’t long before you peeked your head into the gym to see Sakusa slamming the ball against the wall continuously. He was roughly the same height as you, but each time he struck the ball, there was an undeniable force behind it.

You took your shoes off, outside of the gym before clearing your throat nervously.

The boy caught the ball as it ricocheted off the wall. His black curls stuck messily to his forehead and he turned to you with a confused expression. Holding up the plastic bag with one hand, you offered him a small smile.

“Looked like you were working hard, so I brought this for you.”

He blinked at you. Not a word.

“I can just leave it somewhere if you’d like. I just have to-”

“I was actually getting kind of hungry.” He said quietly. He walked to the edge of the gym and sat down. You followed his lead quietly. Upon sitting down, you opened the bag, preparing to dump everything on the floor before he raised a hand to stop you.

“The floor is rather dirty, I would prefer you not to do that.” He said plainly “Please.” he added. You nodded and opened the bag towards him so he could get his pick. Luckily for you he went straight for the daifuku. He meticulously unwrapped it and began to munch silently. You followed suit and you began to eat a custard-filled bread roll.

“Sakusa, right?” You turned your head to the boy. “Kyosuke?” You faltered.

He shook his head. “Kiyoomi. And you?”

“L/N F/N.” You answered. He dipped his head in acknowledgement.

“What high school are you going to try to go to?”

“Itachiyama.”

“Really? I want to go there as well. Maybe we can study together for the entrance exams together.”

“I’m going to get in on a sports recommendation since I’m on the volleyball team here.” He said nonchalantly as he flattened the snack’s wrapper on his thigh. You nodded. His curtness didn’t particularly bother you.

“Fair enough.” You brushed off your skirt and began to make an exit towards the gym. You began to slip your shoes on outside of the door before waving over to him. “Let me know if you change your mind about studying. I’m in the same class as your cousin. Keep the rest of the snacks. Work hard.”

Roughly two weeks later Sakusa Kiyoomi was waiting outside of class 3-B. Ignoring Motoya he approached you. “Let’s study for entrance exams.” Motoya looked at you oddly and tailed the two of you as Sakusa lead you to the library in silence.

You sat in front of the curly haired boy, pulling out your journals and folders excitedly sliding them towards Sakusa. Motoya sat beside him, earning a subtle glare from Kiyoomi.

“I looked at everything they’ve made available for students who are applying, organized it, and color coded it. I have a plan to get in.

Sakusa carefully eyed over your notes as he skimmed the pages. Your handwriting was incredibly neat. Everything was so organized that even an idiot could get into Itachiyama. Not that he was thinking that you were stupid by any means.

That was the first time you saw Sakusa smile because of you.

It was now your first year at Itachiyama Academy. You walked through the gates of the school sandwiched between Sakusa and Motoya. Somehow the three of you managed to be in the same class.

As the semester progressed, you began to settle in a routine with the boys. You would sit at practices, reading books. After they finished, you would all study at someone’s house and part ways.

It was dipping into the summer. Tokyo subtly rose in temperature as the rainy season commenced.

Sakusa stood outside of your home with an umbrella since he was fully aware that you refused to bring one to school any time that it rained. He looked down to his cellphone. You were always punctual so it didn’t make sense to him that you weren’t outside yet. He knocked on the front door to your family home. No answer.

He used the spare key under the plant to go inside. He propped the umbrella against the door and took his shoes off before making his way upstairs. You weren’t in your bed but he could hear someone gagging in the bathroom.

His face contorted into disgust at the thought, but proceeded towards the room. He opened the bathroom door to see you hunched over the toilet. Your hair pooled over your shoulders going forward as you choked on your own vomit. Sobs quietly echoed the room.

He cautiously moved forward and gathered your hair in his hand. He turned his head away from your body to cover his distaste for the situation that he found himself in. You jumped startled in place before you started vomiting again.

“Sorry, I didn’t text you. I’ve been here for hours.” Your voice was incredibly weak.

“I wish you took care of yourself. Then things like this wouldn’t happen. Where are your parents?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice croaked. Sakusa flinched at that. He knew the feeling all too well.

“You know if you used an umbrella in the rain you wouldn’t get sick. Plus you’ve been pulling all nighters with school for no reason. Stop overexerting yourself.”

“Shut up.” You groaned. “Go to school. I’ll take care of myself.”

He rolled his eyes. He grabbed a hair tie from under your sink and tied your hair back to the best of his ability before leaving the room. Going downstairs he began to make hot green tea with honey, a glass of water, and cut up an apple, your favorite fruit, and grabbed a mask out of his backpack and put it on before returning to the bathroom. You were leaning against the wall, your features were flushed as beads of sweat developed along your forehead.

Sakusa sighed as he squatted in front of you.

“Drink this. Rehydrate. Put some food in your stomach.”

“Go to school Sakusa.” You muttered as you placed the cup to your lips gently.

Sakusa began washing his hands into the sink, ignoring you.

“You ought to go lie down so your body can repair itself.” He turned around before gathering the cups and the bowl of fruit from you. He placed it on your bedside table before he felt a weight collide with his back. He turned suddenly to catch your body.

“Sorry, I must be really weak right now.” A laugh barely escaped your lips. You were face to face with him as he supported you up. All he did was nod before he gently lowered you onto the bed, placing you under the sheets.

He walked over to the bathroom and found a small towel. A sigh of exasperation escaped his lips. He already had known that you were overdoing it academically, but now it finally showed physically. He didn’t understand you sometimes.

He returned to your room once more to see that you were out cold. He used the cloth to gently dab the sweat off of your face before folding it inside out and resting it on your forehead entirely. Sakusa supposed that it would be alright to skip school that day to help his friend out.

“Thanks, Kiyoomi.” The words poured quietly from your lips. His head jerked up suddenly

That was the first time you didn’t call him by his surname.

“Okay hear me out. Yes, you’re insanely talented at volleyball. No, I am not telling you how to play, BUT I think that if you approach the AB attack that you guys have been working on this way, I think that you can achieve it somewhat better.” You shoved your diagram that you drew out to Kiyoomi. His eyes scanned over everything. You flipped the page in front of him.

“This is the way that you’ve been doing it, but I think that with your spiking range, you wouldn’t have to exert yourself and overextend yourself from this side of the court.”

Sakusa laughed pulling your notebook closer to himself.

“This is actually genius. How did you know I couldn’t get it?”

“You’ve been spending more time practicing solo than normal so I just paid a little more attention when I’ve been able to come in and watch.”

“I really appreciate this! Do you mind?” You shook your head. “It’s all yours. I have some other ideas in there as well since nationals are coming up.”

He giddily slid it into his backpack before checking his phone.

“Shit. I didn’t realize how late it was. The subways are probably packed by now.” He groaned.

You slung your bag over your shoulder. The crowds outside were moving meticulously outside. A sigh escaped your lips. You turned to Sakusa as he hooked a mask over each ear with a gloomy expression.

The two of you walked out of the cafe and headed towards the JR line. The crowd was astonishingly hard to walk through. Well, it was easy for Saksua since he could see over the sea of people. You reached out for his sleeve and managed to grab his hand. He looked back and gave you a weary acknowledgement and continued to tread forward. You barely managed to get into the train car with him. Your fingers tangled with his as you were shoved into his side. You looked up to see his eyebrows furrowed and expression darkened.. This definitely isn’t the first time that Saksusa had been unfortunate enough to get on the trains with rush hour.

“You good, Kiyoomi?” You tugged on his arm gently as you whispered. He nodded looking down at you. A man beside you accidentally shoved you forward. Sakusa quickly laced his fingers in yours before he anchored you back to his side. You squeeze his hand gently as a quiet thanks.

In roughly ten minutes the doors opened to your stop. Sakusa led the way, weaseling the two of you outside of the train station. He let out a sigh of relief as he climbed the stairs onto the open street.

“Much better.” he mumbled. You absentmindedly followed him to his house as he continued to hold your hand.

“Kiyoomi, you know you can go ahead and let go now.” He froze in his tracks and looked down to your hands and returned his gaze to your face.

“Apologies.” He said before he let go. His hand returned to his side.

“I think I’m going to call it a night here. I’m going to Motoya’s to study the notes. I’ll text you if I have any questions.” He raised a hand to bid farewell and walked to the direction of his home.

Your eyes traveled down to the palm of your hand. You studied it. Each finger as you rotated it. With a subtle shrug, you turned to the opposite direction and made your way home.

That was the first time you held hands with Sakusa Kiyoomi.

“What do you mean I can’t braid your hair for a game? It’s getting longer and it would look adorable. Right, Motoya?” You twirled one of Sakusa’s curls gently in your finger. Motoya glanced up from his phone laughing.

“I don’t see why not.”

“ Don’t support her. You’re going to make her think that she’s unstoppable.” Sakusa groaned and thudded his head against the table.

“Can I do it for fun though?” You whined as your ran your hands through his hair.

He sunk in his chair in defeat. “Fine.”

You excitedly stood up and got to work.

After a few minutes you were finished. His hair was barely short enough for it to stick into a little poof in the back. You quickly took out your phone and snapped a quick selfie with your back camera. You laughed at the photo as Sakusa grabbed at it.

“I didn’t know that you were going to take a picture of me, you ass! Delete it!”

“Nah, this is too good! Kiyoomi I really think you should do this for a game! You look precious!”

You quickly ran over to the couch next to Motoya, showing him the off guard picture you got of the two of them. The two of you were in hysterics. Sakusa ran over to the couch to join the two of you. Placing an arm around your shoulder he broke into laughter as well.

Lose hair flowed on the sides of his face. His eyes squinted shut as his laughs filled the room.

“You ought to delete that picture though, seriously.”

You shook your head at him.

“This is too good. I might just send it to your whole team.”

“Don’t even think about it.”

After some time, the three of you settled down and watched a movie. You rested your head on his shoulder. His arm never left your side. The three of you passed out cold.

Motoya’s mother laughed at the view she had of the three of you as she took her shoes out of the door. Her own son was sprawled out on the end of the couch, snoring the night away. Kiyoomi’s head rested on the couch. Tufts of hair were popping out of the braid. His arms loosely wrapped around you. Your head rested against his chest and your arms rested around his stomach.

She laughed quietly to herself, leaving the kids to sleep.

This was the first time that you fell asleep on Sakusa Kiyoomi.

“What do you mean that you didn’t have a good time at the camp? It’s literally for the Olympics!” You had your hands on your hips as you stared at Saksua. He sulked in your kitchen chair. He came over as soon as he had gotten back from camp.

“I do not understand how Shiratorizawa lost. Kageyama Tobio wasn’t necessarily an extraordinary feat to watch-”

“You do understand that there’s a reason why he got invited there as well, right?”

“I’m trying to be realistic here.”

“Well since both schools are going to nationals, maybe you can play them in the bracket. You’re the number two ace in the country because you worked hard Kiyoomi. I don’t care if some brat from Miyagi rubbed you the wrong way. You need to get over it and do your best. You and Motoya leave in two weeks.”

The two of you had spent the last hour bickering of his experience. Sakusa had a negative thing to say about almost every player that was there.

“If I want to analyze my potential opponent then I think you should allow me to. You’re not playing on the court whatsoever so I think you should keep your opinions to yourself about this situation.”

“Kiyomi, I’m literally the one who has helped you get to where you are now. I’ve spent hours of my own freetime, even getting physically ill coming up with ways to help you and Motoya improve your skills to be better players-”

“But nobody asked you to do that.” He glared at you. You falter at what to say next.

“I did it because you two are my friends. And I want you to succeed.” Each word articulated from your mouth excruciatingly slow. As if you were questioning yourself.

“You have a lot to say for someone who has never played the game before.” Sakusa snapped at you.

“Get out.”

“What?”

“Get out of my house. You do not talk to me like that here.” You made your way to the front door, holding it open.

“Out Kiyoomi.”

“I think we’re having a little miscommunication.” He rose from his chair. He hands beared out to you as he stepped towards you cautiously.

“No. Grab your bag. Put your shoes on and leave. I understood with clarity everything you just said to me. Now I’m asking you to leave. You said everything you wanted to.”

Sakusa’s head did not hang low as your gaze pierced through him. He slung his back over his shoulder and walked towards you. His height towered over you before he bent down, slipping his shoes over his heels.

He walked out without another word.

That was the first fight you had with Sakusa Kiyoomi.

In the next two weeks you didn’t walk to school with the boys, you did not study with them, you did not watch practice, you didn’t use breaks at school to visit their classrooms. Anytime Motoya had reached out, you politely avoided him. If Sakusa did it was like he wasn’t even there.

Nationals were now upon the boy’s volleyball team. You followed the group solemnly to the bus. You had signed up as an official volunteer and there wasn’t any way to necessarily get out of it since you had already been excused from the school days.

You sat alone on the bus. Far away from your two friends. The ride was short. Upon arrival, you carried the medical bag to the team’s designated area for the day.

It was a clash of teams mingling at the entrance of the arena. Not one member of the team had made it to the area yet. You turned to see Sakusa’s standing in the corner of the room. His forehead creased and his chin tucked towards his chest. There were too many people for him. Motoya was mingling with random teams. You let out a small sigh and made your way to the designated area.

A hand gently rested on your shoulder.

“Can we talk?” Kiyoomi asked. He towered over you in height. You couldn’t see his face due to the mask, but he radiated stress. You nodded and sat next to him in the hallway.

The apology was quick, sweet, and straight to the point. You graciously accepted and it wasn’t any worry at all.

You could never truly be mad at him.

You continued to help the boy’s volleyball team until they lost the tournament.

You waited on the side of the court for the boys to come off. However, Sakusa was approached by fans and reporters.

You stood patiently on the other side of the toom. The opposing team’s captain approached you. He shyly flirted with you. Sakusa watched from afar as he continued to chat with the reporter.

This was the first time Sakusa Kiyoomi felt jealousy.

You, Kiyoomi, and Motoya stood side by side posing for pictures for your families. High school diplomas proudly in hand.

Kiyoomi graciously slipped away from everyone for a brief moment. His parents were fawning over the fact that he got accepted into college on a sports scholarship. Same with Motoya. Your parents were openly wondering what college you would choose to go to. You got accepted to five different ones, one of them the same as Kiyoomi.

You and Motoya bid your parents a farewell and began to leave the school together for one last time. Kiyoomi stood at the gates waiting patiently for the two of you. His blazer now slung over one shoulder, he used his other arm to gently rest around your shoulder.

“I’ll see you at the dinner, Motoya. I’m going to walk Y/N home.”

Motoya dipped his head in acknowledgement before parting ways.

You and Kiyoomi laughed and reminisced over the last three years. The late nights studying. Hanging around each other's houses. Him keeping you company as you read your books at cafes. The cat you two found outside of the school your first year. The god awful game of telephone pictionary that almost got the three of you suspended your second year of school. The failed attempts of learning how to play volleyball in third year. It seemed that all of the memories so precious to your heart were coming to a cease.

Your laughs faltered as you approached the gate of your home.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do when you leave for Osaka.” You laughed nervously as his arm slid off of your shoulder. He unconsciously moved a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Easy. Just go to the same school as me. It’s not that difficult of a decision.”

You laughed. “You know I haven’t even begun to choose the college I want to go to yet. I haven’t weighed the pros and cons of each school. Plus you got a full ride.” You sighed.

“Well a pro is that I’m there. I think that’s enough.” He tilted his head at you.

You let out a short laugh before turning your head away from him. “If only it was that simple.” You wondered aloud.

“I have to see how good the program is for what I want to do. I know that they’re the top in the country for it but will it really benefit me? What if financial aid doesn't end up coming through and I have student loans out the ass? What if housing is full? If I don’t have anywhere to live?”

Your thoughts were cut off by Kiyoomi stifling a laugh. He used a single hand to cover his mouth as he looked down at you. You shoved his chest playfully.

“What’s so funny?”

“You worry too much for someone who’s so smart.”

You rolled your eyes at him. He ran his hand through his hair before he rested it on his neck, his gaze never leaving yours.

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you how pretty I think you are.” He reached over and cupped your face. His long slender fingers gently tucked the rest of your hair behind your ear. He felt your skin heat up below his hand and laughed.

“Are you trying to be funny because you’re really bad at it.”

Before you could even react, Kiyoomi quickly closed the gap between the two of you. His lips were soft as he gently pressed his lips against yours. Your hands rose up quickly against his sides. Slightly panicking. He tilted your chin up slightly and you finally kissed him back.

You felt him smile against your lips as he pulled you closer.

He pulled away. Grinning like an idiot.

“I think you should go to that school in Osaka with me. I’m going to have an apartment and everything.”

You placed your arms around his shoulders and his slinked down to your waist.

“We’ll see.”

Kiyoomi’s body sunk into itself.

“I’ve been waiting to do that for quite some time now and that’s all you say? ‘We’ll see?’ It’s really not enough.”

“I mean who said I haven’t been waiting to kiss you too?”

He raised an eyebrow at you as you leaned up to place a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“For how long?”

“After nationals in our second year when I saw a horde of fan girls for one of the best aces in Japan.” You reached up and pinched his cheek. “I thought to myself that I wasn’t jealous or anything, but I think I’ve thought about you romantically for a while now.” He narrowed his eyes at you before shaking his head for you to let go of his face.

“But you’re right. You’ve never told me I was pretty before, Kiyoomi.” You used your hands to bring his face down to yours.

That was the first time you and Sakusa Kiyoomi had ever kissed.

Sakusa Kiyoomi was disappointed to say the least that you did not follow him to college in Osaka.

Or so he thought.

Two weeks after his move there was a knock on his apartment door at 7am in the morning. Kiyoomi was a morning person, but he had no clue who it could possibly be. He pulled a sweatshirt over his body and pulled on sweatpants over his boxers.

There you stood with a suitcase in each hand.

“I chose Osaka because I don’t think I can handle being away from you for four years.”

Kiyoomi enveloped you in a hug, making you drop your luggage. He pressed your body against his chest and buried his head into the crook of your neck. He peppered kisses on your cheekbone until you turned to face him. He held your hands and kissed you sweetly before pulling you inside.

“Kiyo, you need to grab my bags.” You mumbled into his mouth. He gently put you down. Grabbed your bags and placed them inside and turned to face you. You looked at him expectantly with your arms open towards him. Without missing a beat he picked you up and spun you around.

“Are you sure you want to go to school out here?” He pressed a kiss to your temple. You nodded against his chest.

“One exception though.” You pulled away from him.

“Will you be my boyfriend, Sakusa Kiyoomi?”

“Yes.”

This was the first day you spent as an official couple.

The semester was beginning to take a toll on the both of you. Fortunately enough, the both of you managed to be taking the same courses for your basics and had a basic study regiment in the evenings. Kiyoomi’s volleyball practice ran from ungodly hours of the morning and the fatigue was catching up to him as finals week set upon the two of you.

You returned from the library and walked into the bedroom to see Kiyoomi sound asleep, laying on his side snuggling a pillow. Quiet snores spread through the room as his mouth was slightly agape.

You quickly showered and changed into a shirt of his before snuggling into bed beside him. You ran your fingers through his hair causing him to lean into your touch.

“Y/N” He groaned into the pillow.

“Hm?”

“C’mere.” He lifted up his arm as an invitation. You quickly obliged as his arm encased you into his chest.

“How was studying? Sorry I left so early.” He yawned.

Your arm wrapped around his side as your fingernails began to graze his bare back.

“It’s fine, Kiyo. I know how tired you’ve been lately. Being a student athlete is tough enough as it is.”

“I don’t want you to be stressed out because of my incapabilities.”

“You’re only human. And I’m stressed out because college is tough, not because you’re incapable of things.”

“I know.”

“Your voice is cute when you’re tired.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Nevermind.”

“I beg your pardon?.”

“Have I ever told you that you’re super handsome when you’re dead quiet. I know I can’t see you right now, but the whole brooding thing you usually have going on is usually pretty nice in my opinion.”

“Shut up.”

“Okay, Kiyo.”

“Y/N I’ll literally make you do all of the cleaning next week.”

“But Kiyo-”

“Shut up.”

“Anyways. I’ve missed you.”

“We live together. And study together. And go to school together.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah.”

“Remember that one time that you fell down the stairs in our second year? In front of the entire class?”

“I hate you.”

“I love you.”

“What?”

You sat up abruptly staring down at your boyfriend. He sat up, propping his hands on either side of his body. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes.

“I love you, Kiyoomi.”

A lazy smile graced the black-haired man’s features.

“I mean it!”

“I know you do. That’s why I’m smiling.”

“I really mean it, Kiyoomi. You’ve been my best friend since middle school. We spent every waking moment together. I got to grow with you as friends. I had the opportunity to watch you bloom into your passion by bringing you daifuku one day because I saw a quiet boy practicing all by himself. I’m so lucky for that moment of time. Even though we’re busy now, we get to hold each other at night and see each other’s achievements during the day. I think it’s so amazing that we have each other. I just want to cherish you.”

“I love you too.” He clasped his hand over yours.

“And I mean it too.”

That was the first time you and Sakusa exchanged ‘I love yous’.

The semester had come to an end. Kiyoomi rested his head on your lap as you watched TV and he watched volleyball highlights on his phone. You played with his curls absentmindedly.

“I can’t believe that Kageyama Tobio is playing on the Olympic team this year.”

“Who?”

“The kid who beat Wakatoshi our second year.”

“Oh that one.”

“I want to play in the Olympics.”

“I know Kiyo you just need to keep doing what you're doing and you’ll be on that stage in 2020.”

You pulled out your cell phone and took a picture of the two of you. Managing to get his glare and everything. You shoved the photo you just took in his face.

“Look! Do you know who that is?”

“Me. Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

“Correct!” You exclaimed. “He’s also my boyfriend and a future Olympian! A future representative of Japan’s men's volleyball team!”

Kiyoomi laughed. He locked his phone and just kept on laughing.

“You’re so precious.” He managed between laughs. He pulled his head from your lap and squeezed your cheeks with both of his hands.

“My girlfriend believes in me!” He sang song.

You placed your hands over his and pulled him forward into a quick kiss.

“Am I not supposed to?”

“I never said that.”

“You’re kind of suggesting it. Do you not like me anymore?”

He leaned forward, putting his lips on yours once more.

“You know I don’t like you, I love you.”

(nsfw)

Butterflies rose in your chest at his words. You gave him the dopiest grin before you leaned into him once more. Your body leaned into his. Kiyoomi’s hands rose under your shirt as he pulled you on top of his lap. Your legs fell on either side of him as your fingers ran through his hair. As your hands reached the back of his head you fisted his curls, earning a quiet groan from the man underneath you. His hands pressed roughly into the skin of your hips. The surprise let Kiyoomi slip his tongue into your mouth.

He began to place open mouth kisses down your neck as his hands traveled up to your breasts. You quickly slid your shirt off over your head to give him more access. His kisses continued across your collarbone and down to your breast.

“Kiyo-” Your breath hitched in your throat as he swirled his tongue.

“Hmm?” He mumbled into your chest.

“Let’s go to the bedroom.” You said firmly, as you slid your hands to his shoulders to get him to look at you.

His dark eyes sparkled at you and nodded.

You got off of his lap and made your way to your room. Dropping your shorts to the ground, you kicked them to the corner of the room. Before you could even reach the bed, you were enveloped in a hug from behind. Kiyoomi’s bare chest warmed your back as he began to kiss your neck, your shoulders. A hand firmly on your hip and a hang squeezing your breast. His hands traveled your body hungrily. You turned to meet his face. Caressing it with the back of your hand you placed a gentle kiss on his nose, making him smile at you.

Your hands draped over his boxers as you generously worked them down his legs. Placing, small, eager kisses on his lips.

“I don’t think we have condoms-”

“Yes we do. They’re in my nightstand, I bought them just in case we ever-”

“Mhmm”

You lured Kiyoomi over to the bed as you stroked him. He opened the bedside table and carefully tore the wrapper before rolling the condom on. He hovered over you as he lowered you onto the bed, his lips not leaving yours once. His fingers caressed you, slipping in and out slowly, you moaned into his mouth, making him speed up ever so slightly as he kissed all over your body. He wanted to show you physically how much he loves you.

He positioned himself between your legs before slipping himself in. The two of you gasped at the newfound sensation. He moaned into your neck as your hands failed to grab at his back. He kissed your cheek and smiled at you. He began to roll his hips into you repeatedly. He was weary of his actions as his hands roamed your entire body. He didn’t want to go too slow or two fast. He never asked, he just studied your reactions as he pressed deeper into you. He began to hold a steady rhythm as moans began to spill from your mouth. Each sound encouraging him to unconsciously move faster.

“Kiyoomi.” Your nails sunk into his back, your lips struggled to find his. He moaned your name into your neck. He was reaching his climax as he shuddered inside of you. He kissed your forehead gently.

“I love you. Forever. I cannot imagine anyone else I’d share this life with.”

You stared at your boyfriend. He was studying your face with great intent as if to check if he made a dent. His hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat. You pushed it back making his curls bounce as they flopped back down. His body rose and fell steadily as he caught his breath over you. He gave you a small smile as he flattened your hair on your head, he gently pulled out of you before sitting on his knees and sliding the condom off of himself.

“Give me a second please.”

He walked to the bathroom and disposed of it and began to pick up the clothes from earlier and put them in the hamper. He returned to your side. He propped up his head on his hand as ran his fingers through your hair.

“I’m so lucky. Everyday.”

You smiled as he placed yet another tender kiss on your lips.

The night ended with Sakusa curled on your bare chest, fast asleep while you held him dearly through the night.

That was you and Sakusa Kiyoomi’s first time.

Today was Kiyoomi’s first V-League game.

You were never typically awake at the same times that he was. Ever.

You sleepily followed him around the apartment. He brushed his teeth first. You stifled a laugh as he began the skin care routine you taught him in high school. He ignored you, but followed suit. Next he fixed his bed head. Well you did. You sat on the counter with him between your legs as you gently raked product through his hair.

“Omi Omi.” You sang as he relaxed into your hands.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why? I think Miya was onto something when he started calling you that.”

“No he wasn’t. He tainted the second half of my name when he started that shit.”

“Don’t be that way, Omi Omi!”

“Shut up!” He yawned.

“Or what, Omi?” You hopped off the sink and walked away from him.

“You’re gonna do what you did to me, last night? Right now?”

A sly grin rested on his lips before he pushed you to the bed.

“Good thing we woke up early.”

You stayed arm and arm with Kiyoomi at the bar where his teammates won. The Black Jackals won their very first game.

You glanced up at your mask-clad boyfriend as he glared at his teammates.

“Omi Omi! I didn’t know you were bringing your girlfriend!”

“Hi! You must be Atsumu!” You extended your hand to shake his, but Sakusa cut in front of you.

“Don’t touch him.” He rolled his eyes.

“It’s called being courteous, Kiyo. You ought to try it!” You shoved his chest.

“I can’t believe Omi Omi has a heart. He actually talks about us at home.” Bokuto bunched up his shirt on his chest, his eyes watering.

“You’re telling me.” Atsumu huffed.

“To be clear, the only person I respect on this team is Meian and I think it’s all valid.” Sakusa glared at the two men. His gaze lost it’s focus once he heard your laugh and reeled back into the conversation that you were having with Hinata.

His teammates smiled as they were watching a never before seen Sakusa Kiyoomi.

As the night progressed more and more drinks were spread amongst the team.

You and Kiyoomi balanced the drinks the best you could, but after all, it was your first time drinking. Ever.

Both of you, equally wasted, exited the bar and ordered a ride home. Laughing up the stairs the two of you tumbled into your bedroom. Kissing and everything in between.

Sakusa Kiyoomi looked at you like you were the light of his life and he made sure you knew it.

You studied his features as he drunkenly told you stories of when he was little. His dark brown eyes squinted at you as little laughs escaped his mouth. Anytime he smiled one corner of his mouth rose higher than the other. Anytime Kiyoomi reached for your hand, he always managed to be the most gentle with his spindly fingers. His kisses were so soft. Even now as he continuously reaches down to kiss you. Even though your own lips are numb from the alcohol rushing in your veins.

This is true love.

“I told you that you’d be in the Olympics.”

You wrapped your arms around him as you stood behind the couch, smothering his cheek with kisses.

“I know! I’m glad everything paid off!”

“Me too. Me too.

“I think this is the first time I’ve ever dated an Olympian.” You stared at the phone in Kiyoomi’s hand. The congratulatory email.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“What do you think about marrying an Olympian? Pretty practical, right?”

You grinned from ear to ear.

“I think that’s the best idea you’ve had in a while.”

“I’d like you to know I’m full of great ideas. I mean we’ve been together for six years. And it’s because I kissed you since you wouldn’t kiss me. I think that it’s a fair assumption that I’m the brains of this relationship. I also made the idea for us moving into this city home. I also made the executive decision for us to buy a cat.”

“Kiyo. That’s not how that went. You know damn well I brought the cat home when you were done with practice and you hit me with the whole ‘I guess we can do it if we clean the litter box everyday’. I think you’re remembering things incorrectly. Per usual.”

“Dunno, but it took my decision making to allow her to stay in this home.”

“Uh huh. Now that I think about it, it would be my first time marrying an Olympian.”

“Well duh. I mean look at me.”

“ I was talking about Miya, you dolt.”

He let out a hearty laugh. “I guess you can take the role of the funny one.”

The first time Sakusa became a parent. He had almost passed out in the delivery room. He’ll never acknowledge it to you, however when friends asked he claimed that childbirth was ultimately disgusting.

His eyes shone the moment your son entered the world.

He held him delicately as if he could break. He was laughing as he gently brought him down to you.

You stared down at the baby you and your husband had brought into the world and you couldn’t help but think of the first time you saw Sakusa Kiyoomi and the blessings the boy brought into your life.

(A/N) the smut scene wasnt supposed to be good!!!!!!!!! It was their first time so it wasn’t supposed to be some god tier orgasming experience. It was supposed to be plain and about their connection!

thanks for reading (:

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dallonm-archive · 4 years

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So I Turned Church Mud Into A Novel Lol Oops | NaNoWriMo 2020

Folks the JOURNEY I have been on in the last 3 days. I’ve been on a great albeit chaotic Church Mud high and it led to? This?

For those who don’t know, Church Mud is meant to be a ~7k words short story for my writing dissertation (and it still is). I attempted to do Draft Zero over summer, completely missed the mark, pretended it didnt exist for a month and here we are. One thing I learnt from that attempt though was that there is a much wider story to be told than what we’d see in those 7k words. Back then I was content with it only existing as a short story, not having all the parts told, because I liked the idea of Felix and Dorothy existing in this small window with a happy ending that’d otherwise be temporary. But I cannot help myself :) I met my advisor on Wednesday and reaffirmed that I’m at a really good place with this story in terms of ideas, themes and character - what’s missing was just the plot. So that’s what I’ve been working on (and killing my sleep schedule over) since, and what happened was: I realise most of my ideas wouldn’t fit the short story --> But they’d work in a novel --> So I guess I’m writing Church Mud as a novel after I graduate? --> But I kinda wanna write it now --> But I can’t --> But I want to --> Chloe your dissertation --> Hey you want more novel content? Here’s chapter titles --> God I Can’t Wait To Write This As A Novel --> Hey that thing where you write a novel in a month is happening soon...could be a...perfect excuse to...….,,,

So I had a ~revelation~ at 4am: why can’t I write it now? NaNoWriMo coincides with when I’m meant to brainstorm this story, so why don’t I take what I have and pants it as a novel, intentionally #LoseNano2020 and use what I wrote to infer what the short story will look like whilst also have a Draft Zero to work with/finish/rewrite next year? I debated if this was a good idea because it felt ~unconventional~ but I realised that a) I want to write this as a novel anyway and b) this is where I’m loving the project and that’s what matters and c) makes it feel less like uni work lol I’ve spent the all day playing around with what Church Mud The Novel would look like, and not only am I o b s s e s s e d but it also taught me? so much? about the short story? I was worried it’d get complicated but from the vague plot idea I have, I have a clear vision of Church Mud The Short Story separate from the novel, but I also see how it would fit into the novel as a chapter, and seeing where it’d fit in has really helped me figure out where it sits in the twins’ lives and so many elements I hadn’t considered before. I believe very strongly in Writers Intuition and my intuition is telling me that this is the direction I need to go with this project. My only issue is Church Mud doesn’t fit as a title for the novel at all and was never going to be the title, but I really don’t care oop, I’m not titling it until next year unless I come up with a title so good I want to change the short story as well lmao. But other than that this is working so well for me and really catalysed the momentum I already had atm for this story. I’ve also wanted to rework how I share Church Mud things here and this is a perfect way to at least for the next month, but before I ramble more lets actually talk about where the story is!

CHURCH MUD

Genre: literary fiction Setting: California (+ probably some other states? Idk I’m not American wtf is a state), 1986 POV: third person present + retrospective moments, split between twins Felix and Dorothy The Vibes: hazy summers, hot air, 3am, saltwater breeze, grainy photographs, empty roads at night, the moon blurred by clouds, arms resting out car windows, abandoned churches, telephone boxes, getting lost on purpose, cigarette smoke, dust from an old Bible Deals with: faith & the weaponization of it to control others, identity, perceptions of reality, chosen family, independence v co-dependence, free will, trauma & what it means to “let go”

CONTENT WARNINGS: religion/religious imagery (specifically Christianity), trauma, toxic relationships, inferred addiction (all updates will be tagged with these/any more specific warnings)

This is still in very early conception, in the sense of it’s existence as a novel, but it’s definitely an expansion on the ideas I had for the short story, where these two seek to let go of their past together so they can live their own, new lives, and also restore their tangled relationship that could never be fixed through letters and distant contact. When Dorothy left the controlling religious cult she grew up in, she never gave herself a chance to properly process the complicated emotions that came with that decision, or the trauma she went through, opting to cope with it by putting all her energy into building her new life and embracing her identity. Watching her brother navigate the same new, confusing path she took four years ago forces her to look back on her own experience, and the repressed memories of events that prompted her to leave in the first place. When Felix catches up with her, he struggles with the realisation that adjusting to this new life and world won’t be easy, and whilst it was the right choice, his impulsive decision has ramifications. Trauma does not necessarily stay in the place you associate it with and for Felix, it’s like seeing all of it from a birds eye view, all at once, including everything he blocked out. With his faith, his sister, and his drive to be a good person, he has hope for himself and the world, but the pain and anger he harbours will not make it easy for him. ^by no means a pitch literally just the copy paste of the quick summary I wrote for myself lmao

The most exciting part of this to me is how different, yet similar the novel feels. This version of the story isn’t necessarily happier, it’s still rough around the edges, but it’s definitely from a different mindset and there’s this haziness to it that doesn’t exist in the short story. It feels like a grainy home video that they’d never let see the light of day. I wouldn’t call it dreamlike or softer because of this, but there is this distinct tonal shift from the short story to the novel that I can only describe through the aforementioned Vibes. As I said, I have an idea of where the short story would fit into the novel’s timeline as a chapter, but they still won’t be the same. The short story is obviously more restricted to one singular event, and that turns the intensity and tension up high. This difference is also 100% influenced by the fact that the short story is set only at night (bar for some potential flashbacks), and the night plays a huge thematic and atmospheric role. Of course parts of the novel will take place at night, but the presence of daytime changes the mindset to me? In the short story it feels like they’re stuck in this perpetuate-esque night, whereas in the novel you know that the sun will always rise.

This story is also very different aesthetically, but at the same time elements of the short story’s aesthetic come into play and clash with the unique aesthetic of the novel, where they coexist, but are also in conflict with each other. As you can tell from these two moodboards where you can really see how for the second I gave up trying to make it coherent lmao:

To me there are two distinct aesthetics, and they are both very different and exist in different ways, but they are both inherently part of the story, and it feeds into this idea of perception of reality and these two realities that the twins perceive: the “outside world” and the gated world they grew up in.

The stars of the show, my favourite disaster twins:

Not fragile, but not made of stone either

Loves very hard, sometimes more than she’d like

A protective and loyal soul, especially with those she loves, but she never wants to forget to protect herself

If I’m in love with my best (female) friend, no I’m not <3

-goes to the edge of the pier and stares wistfully at the ocean so everyone knows that I am the main character-

Loves her brother more than anyone else but is struggling to figure out his new role in her life. As teenagers she felt painfully tethered to him because they were always The Twins, and she had nobody else, as adults she hopes to find a balance between their deeply close bond and their harshly different lives

Arc driven by defining your identity and then redefining it, and facing the parts of it you’d rather lock far away. Also deals with her experience growing up as a girl in a religious cult in the 60s/70s, and the relationship faith has with her feminist identity.

As of now, there’s more focus on him in the novel, since the short story focuses on Dorothy and I feel to write him from an observer perspective I need to get into his head first

Just found out restarting your life completely is hard?

Trying to be a good person, wants to be a good person, but there’s an anger in him that he hates but it’s festering and it’s growing

But ultimately he is a sweet and soft person and that’s what he wants to be in life even though it’s hard, it shows especially with his sister

I think at some point he locks himself in a cabin and? I would too

Centred around perception of trauma and v influenced by my own experiences with that, where you think things will be easier as soon as you leave that situation but really it just makes you look at everything from a distance and be like “what the fuck?? that actually happened??” (which conflicts with the fact that you KNOW you’re in a better place and you would never go back, but it hurts and it’s hard especially understanding the placement of your trauma in this new space)

I need to give this dude and his sister a happy ending for my own wellbeing. I don’t know how that’ll look but these two will get their happy endings. I actually don’t think I’ve loved two characters more and I love all my characters deeply

And I think that’s all for now! This 100% was not the direction I expected to take but I am so glad I did, and I also love the opportunity to reintroduce this story because good Lord it’s changed so much (and this instance is the most change). I also think this is the perfect Nano scenario for me, as someone who’s never done it before, there’s zero pressure on me to “win” because I don’t expect to even finish this. I’m just going to see where it takes me and see what it’s given me at the end of the month. I’m also not outlining this at all lmao, one because me and outlines do not get along but also my Preptober is just. the work I have to do for my dissertation anyway, which is reading and gathering a lot of fiction/nonfiction about cults/religion, and all the weird and unhinged takes on it. It’s very slow but it’s also fun! My uni work this weekend is literally to read The Girls by Emma Cline so I think I won here?? I also want to dedicate the rest of October to the short stories I planned to write for Nano (I was going to work on my collection).

I don’t know if I’ll do a taglist for this - I have the og Church Mud one but like I said I’m rethinking how I want to share this story and updates for this will only be regular in November so?? But chances are I will be constantly on my bullshit for the next month and a half with this story, pretty update or no pretty update

My NaNoWriMo page is here, although fair warning I have No idea how this site works, this is my boomer moment. Excited to clown about this story though!

- Chloe

#first off my fatal flaw is interchanging between Felix and Dorothy and Dorothy and Felix #second off i would die and kill for them #writing #amwriting #writeblr #writeblr community #religion /#trauma /#nanowrimo #nanowrimo 2020

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lifeofkaze · 3 years

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🍂 🌸 ☄️ for both ya gals pls

Thank you for the asks Bestie 💛💛💛💛

🍂 Does your OC enjoy hugs? What do they do as a show of affection for: their friends, their family, their significant other(s) or for strangers? Over all what are they like with recieving affection from others?

Lizzie is a very friendly and open person. While she is not jumping on anyone and hugging them to death, she is big with physical affection when it comes to her friends. She likes to hug her friends whenever she feels one of them needs it, what she doesn't like are endless everyone hugging everyone else hugging fests when meeting up. That's not affection, it's annoying. They don't hug as much in her family, the affection they share are more emotional but they do when they haven't seen each other for a longer period of time or special occasions like birthdays and such. She *loves* hugging Orion and being hugged by him , the physical contact between them grounds her in the moment like nothing else ever could. She has no problem with being hugged by people she would hug back. What she can't stand is people - like distant relatives - getting into her personal space if she doesn't want them to.

Ava is more on the reserved side. Even with good friends, she's not much of a huggy person. When it comes to showing affection to her friends, she'd much rather put a hand on their shoulder or talk to them than giving them a hug. She would if it's needed though. This also mirrors in her family dynamic. She comes from a family that is loving but not in a physical way. If there are hugs, they're rather short but no one really minds. When she met Charlie and they started dating, it took her a good while to come to grips with Charlie being *very* physical in contrary to her. She'd would rather run her hand along his shoulders when walking past him or give him a peck on the cheek, whereas Charlie loved hugging her all the damn time. But after she got used to them, she wouldn't want to miss his arms around her. Until she does.

🌸 What are some of their favourite things and why? List as many as you can think of!

Why I love Lizzie

Why I love Ava:

Ava was my first HPHM OC. I restarted the game with her 3 times before Lizzie came along.

Her story might be the most sensitive one and I'm scared and looking forward to it.

She has the most development of all my OCs/versions of them.

She doesn't take shit from no one. Do not cross her.

She isn't a selfless, inherently good person and that's something I actually like about her. She has her own plans and does a few questionable things to see them through.

I love her face claim (Kathery Winnick) and the fact that you pointed it out to me that, ironically, she is a lot like Astrid from How to Train Your Dragon.

She managed to get Dragon Boi interested in something besides dragons and that's damn impressive if you ask me.

Her special field of knowledge when it comes to cursebreaking is blood magic and she carries a pretty impressive dagger which she is not afraid to use.

Even after going through some pretty traumatic events that changed her whole personality, she never lost her gift for making people gravitate towards her.

☄️ Does this OC deserve better treatment from you? Do you make them suffer just a little bit too much? Be nice to them!

Lizzie: Well, so far she can't really complain, can she? Sure, she had some lows in AoB and Rockstar isn't all rose coloured glasses either but it could be worse. What are you saying? What about SfB and Warcraft? I don't know what you mean, nothing to see for you here, Lizzie. Seriously girl, better close your eyes, you're in for a ride... Sorry.

Ava: Oh God, yes! Poor girl, I feel sorry every time I open your draft file. But I'll make it up to you. Some day. Maybe. Don't forget, I love you.

#ask game #writer besties #lizzie jameson #ava campbell

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nerdgatehobbit · 3 years

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8/31/21

It’s been a while since I’ve done a blog status post. Oops. There hasn’t been that much progress but I’m still going to talk about it.

As I had hoped, I adored the first official Ultra Guardians episode. To be fair, it would have taken a lot for me to dislike it, as it combines Pokémon, Super Sentai (localized as Power Rangers for the USA), and wormholes. I’m very excited to see what’s to come!

Lost Galaxy’s ending was definitely an odd note to end my journey of watching the first boxed sets. It was one of the more uneven seasons I’ve seen, although I’ll acknowledge there were extenuating circumstances. Plus I did rewatch “Day of the Dumpster” on Saturday.

I don’t think I had seen the 8th episode of Princess Tutu yet when I made the last post. The stakes are rising and the characters are getting more complicated. I’m enjoying it so far.

Star Trek wise, I’m eleven episodes into TOS. It’s been rather serious so far. The reusing of the original pilot footage is a clever conceit, but uh, it is pretty clear that the original pilot was the rough draft.

My SG-1 rewatch for this month was “Prometheus Unbound”, which I still love. “Camelot” & “Bad Guys” are up next, with different types of posts for the last two months. I still need to figure out how exactly to celebrate the 25th anniversary next July.

I’ve read another chunk of Blood Ties, which has brought up Rodney’s grief over Carson again. On the one hand, it is hard to read. On the other, I have to appreciate that the author isn’t glossing over or ignoring what Carson meant to Rodney. They get a special tag for a reason, after all.

The Earth-based subplot is getting somewhat convoluted, though I’m still enjoying the psychic dinosaurs back in the Pegasus Galaxy. Also I’m already queued up for Sparktober so be prepared for that.

I like getting Gwen screencaps from BBC Merlin, and it’s been a good way to ease back into doing it. Soonish I’ll post a few more, this time from mid season 3. After I’m done with her costumes, I’ll likely take an afternoon to get screencaps from the 2014 Beauty and the Beast and Love & Friendship. Not to mention some Grant Jansky pics too...

At this point, I strongly suspect my OUAT reviews will be more general analysis topped by costume discussion. Because the plot would be a lot to keep track of. Not to mention all the resulting face palms. There’ll probably be brief notes though, more for my sake than any readers’. Listen, my feelings regarding OUAT are messy and that’s likely to be reflected in my reviews.

I don’t think I’ll do a review of them, but I did recently watch Porco Rosso & The Power of Us (one of the newest Pokémon movies). Both were pretty fun! Up next are Barbie as Rapunzel and Bedknobs & Broomsticks, hopefully to be reviewed on their upcoming anniversaries.

I still need to watch “Remember Nothing”. I really wish XWP’s first season finale hadn’t spooked me so. :/

Now, confession time. This actually happened earlier this summer. I opted to watch the first episode of an apparent miniseries called Wizards. And, well, I spent the entire time going 0.0 due to the overload of characters, worldbuilding, and the general awesomeness.

A Google search revealed that there were actually two previous series that informed Wizards, so no wonder I got overwhelmed. I went back and saw the actual first few episodes and liked them. I was particularly pleased about Jonathan Hyde playing Strickler, since I liked him in the original Jumanji and the Dinotopia TV show. (Note to self, add the latter to the list of ‘needs screencaps’.)

It’s since been on the back burner, but I’m curious to hear if others think I should delve into the Tales of Arcadia verse.

Also, I do have a pretty big pile of screencaps from before 11/19. Mostly Power Rangers & Stargate, obviously. Anyone have any preferences to see what I deemed noteworthy enough to be put in my blog posts? I keep them primarily to avoid starting all over in case of lost links or disaster striking the blog. Or if I ever decide to hit the restart button on it. And to use as laptop backgrounds (my new Gwen folder is the current slideshow).

#my ramblings #it’s extra accurate this time #sun & moon anime #prlg #princess tutu #st tos #stargate #sga novel #ouat salt #tales of arcadia

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pluviophile-bookworm · 4 years

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AWAE 2x9 rewatch: thoughts and reactions

This review is dedicated to Dalila Bela, who turns 19 today. Happy birthday!

After a long wait, there she is at last - Muriel Stacy, decorating her new home with potato stamps. What a lovely way to show she is a kindred spirit. She’s basically like an older Anne.

Marilla and Anne utter the same words upon passing Miss Stacy, who is cycling in the opposite direction at top speed - ‘My heavens!’ - except their intonations are so different. Marilla is shocked at the sight of the unconventional-looking stranger, while Anne is in awe of her, and especially the fact that she’s wearing trousers. I don’t think the women of Avonlea, be they progressive mothers or not, won’t be so fascinated with her, though.

And again, Miss Stacy acts exactly like an older Anne, going on and on about potatoes and tardiness and motorbikes before she’s even caught a breath. I can’t wait for Anne to finally meet her. And that concludes the cold open.

I don’t care what Prissy and Josie, or their mothers, say about Miss Stacy- I’m with Anne on this one. They shouldn’t judge their new teacher before they’ve met her up close. She’ll warm her way into their hearts, I’m sure. I actually know it for a fact.

I simply cannot believe Billy brought a gun to school and is openly proclaiming he’s about to kill an animal, a living being, with it. And it’s not just any animal - it’s the fox, Anne’s fox. What has it done to him that he’s so personally violent towards it?

Again, Gilbert alone is the voice of reason (unlike season 3 Gilbert, who is the most confused individual I’ve ever seen and has the eyebrows to prove it). ‘There’s no fox here, so how about you put the gun away?’ It’s as if he speaks for me.

Who does Billy think he is, calling his teacher ‘little lady’? He’s lucky she’s not Phillips, otherwise he wouldn’t get away with such disrespectful behaviour.

Once again Anne uses the exact same words as someone else, but with a different intonation. Prim and proper Tillie’s ‘Oh my goodness!’ is one of disapproval (which she’s not to blame for, that’s probably just what her parents have taught her), while Anne’s is an expression of pure admiration and fascination. [Side note: Let’s put things into perspective, though - what would you think if your new teacher showed up to school with no bra on, on her first day at that? I don’t really know what to think of corsets anymore, so I’m not sure how to take this. You tell me.]

What, now Matthew and Jerry, two of my favourite AWAE men, want to catch the fox too? I understand it’s stealing people’s chickens, but hey, a fox must eat too, and it’s not like it can get its food in another way.

What’s happening to Bash? Is farm life not his speed? I’m worried about him, I hope he’s alright.

For this next scene, the introductions, I’ll insert a note from when I first watched this episode. I notice I’ve been doing that a lot lately, but well, it seems I’ve got quite a lot of first impression notes on this season written down, so why not make them public now, here where it’s appropriate? Here goes:

And, just as I was fascinated, things got dramatically bad. Anne wouldn’t stop saying quite private things about everyone who spoke, and Miss Stacy reprimanded her for spreading gossip, resulting in her being unable to come up with words to describe herself (the method used for introductions was everyone would use words starting with their initials to describe themselves. I really wanted to know what Anne would have said about herself, as nobody else seemed to struggle much with the exercise (although I myself always do when asked to do it).

Alright, now I’d like to add something to this. When Ruby describes herself as ‘romantic’ and looked for a G word for ‘Gillis’, I could swear she thought of a certain young man right to her left - heck, she even looked at him before quickly blurting out ‘girl’. Well, yeah, she is a girl. But she’s also defining herself through Gilbert too much. I hope she knows how much potential she has beyond him. Besides, he only has eyes for Anne. I wish we’d got another season so we could see how far Ruby and Moody go. I liked them, but we saw too little of them together. #renewannewithane

Ok, but... it was like Miss Stacy just finished Anne’s sentence. ‘Ruby has a crush on...’ ‘Gilbert Blythe?’ Well, yes, but that’s not what we’re talking about. See, I’m noticing details I did not deem significant enough to note down the first time around. This is what rewatches are for.

Rachel Lynde needs Marilla’s help. That’s a first. Oh, well, it’s rumours, what else. She’s against Miss Stacy. I really don’t like her right now.

No, seriously, what is happening to Bash?

Of course, what the mothers of Avonlea fail to see is that, female or not, trousers or nor, corset or not, Miss Stacy is much more capable of teaching the young minds of Avonlea school than her predecessor. Or at least she’s much more willing to educate them properly. Of course she’ll tutor Gilbert. And Anne will soon find her way into her good graces. I hope. Nay, I know it.

‘Appalling, stupid, clueless...’ this is what I hoped wouldn’t happen, but it happened anyway. Now Anne is beating herself up for the scrape she got into by complete accident. Gosh, I hope someone can fix this.

From my old notes: And again, Cole knows how to fix things, and he does so, brilliantly I would say. Also, with the way he goes out into the nature, raises his hands and shouts out “Come to me, Muse!”, I can totally see him being a pagan... and who’s to say he’s not? I mean, Anne has the makings of one too, remember the Beltane ritual in season 3?

Rachel’s only job seems to be to stick her nose in other people’s business. She has no right to go around asking about Muriel’s marital status and whether she wants to be an old maid. But as anyone who’s watched the full series knows, this will be carried over into season 3.

Seriously, Rachel right now reminds me of Anne earlier with all the gossip, and I see now why she (Anne) made such a bad impression on Miss Stacy. Unfortunately, she (Miss Stacy) cannot assign Rachel Lynde an essay.

Anne’s mind is all taken over by the fox... so much that she’s fallen asleep over her papers... and now, disaster after disaster lead to a small fire, which grows into a bigger fire. If Anne’s essay burns in it, I’ll literally cry. I know a thing or two about lost work. Why, half of this very post I had to write a second time after my computer decided to restart the page with the unsaved draft open. But hey, this is not about me.

So I guess they’ve figuratively and literally forced Miss Stacy into a corset. That’s sad. But I see she’s not giving up on her unique identity.

Oh, great, now the found brothers are fighting. I guess it turns out Bash’s problem is he’s inexperienced in farming and he needs help, but Gilbert is pursuing his own future now and doesn’t seem to care all that much. I feel bad for Bash. But we know Gilbert will stay at least another year and Bash will figure farming out by the time he has to leave.

Ah, I see Anne is feigning sickness so as not to go back to Miss Stacy after yesterday’s fiasco. Well, I’d do the same if I were her, but I’m not quite sure that’s the best solution to the problem at hand. Marilla’s suggestion seems much better to me. Going together so Anne has someone to vouch for her... reasonable and concerned like a true mother.

I see Bash is trying to figure out horse-riding on his own. It looks tough. But he can manage it.

It’s a shame Jerry won’t help Anne with the trap... but well, he was promised good money, and his large family is so poor... the ends sort of justify the means here. Still, Matthew is not in the right to plan on skinning the fox for money.

Gosh, things are heating up between Shirbert. Anne seems to be all the more determined to find and develop her vocation now that Gilbert is working on his. And he doesn’t seem to care much about her feelings right now, being so busy studying and all. But I wonder how this whole thing really makes him feel.

Hey, there are the potato light bulbs! The first science lessons Miss Stacy teaches the class. And they never forget it. How inspiring!

Hey, I just realised something. In her ramble in the cold open, Miss Stacy mentioned that you can use potatoes for a lot of purposes... well, here’s the second one she demonstrates in this episode. Stamps and... lighting a bulb.

Marilla, who took up Miss Stacy’s offer to stay and observe, seems to be a new supporter of the young teacher. See? If people only gave her a chance and saw what she does and how she does it, she might soon be a hit in town. But no, some choose to condemn her instead, as if she’s ever done them wrong. Just like the fox. Except the fox stole some chickens. Miss Stacy is perfectly innocent.

And... poor clumsy Moody had to ruin everything just as Rachel and the ProgressiveTM mothers came in. Too bad. But hey, it’s him who recalled this very first lesson later on when they were graduating, isn’t it?

Hey, Bash has gone to see Mary. Things are getting serious. I guess.

Alas, the mothers are not too pleased with how the lesson turned out. Luckily, Marilla was there to see the whole thing from beginning to end and can support Miss Stacy in front of the rest of the women. And it seems Gilbert and Anne are ready to step in and defend her as well. On their second day with her. That speaks volumes.

Oh, so he’s visiting Mary to talk about Gilbert. But he also talks about himself and his idea to go deep into farming. His story is truly an inspiring one. And also, he’s staying with Mary for supper. As I said, things are getting serious.

Anne decided to show Miss Stacy the story clubhouse... nice. But she’s made another blunder in doing so. She’s forgotten Cole is hiding there from his parents. And now they’ll force him into farming again... as my younger self said when I saw this for the first time, ‘this episode is one of the most devastatingly dramatic ones of this series – ever. What a way to lead up to the season finale’. I think that says it all.

Ah, yes, nobody told Gilbert that Bash wouldn’t be home for supper this evening. Too bad... now he’ll think Bash has run away on him. Meanwhile, Bash is having a good time with Mary. But there’s no way for Gilbert to know that. How unfortunate.

One shot, one gunshot and... wait, it seems the fox has not been killed yet. But the poor clubhouse... Billy is the worst person in this series, hands down. I can’t even. I’m crying. Real tears. Right now.

See, Anne’s blunder was not telling Miss Stacy about Cole. After all, she swore her to secrecy. But it was a blunder nonetheless because Miss Stacy takes her duty as a teacher more seriously than her promise to Anne. If only she’d known the full story... Cole might have been saved.

Miss Stacy riding with Harmon Andrews... I wonder what Rachel, aka the Avonlea yellow pages, will make of that.

‘Sometimes you just have to use your imagination.’ This is powerful because it comes from Marilla. Also, perhaps this is the hidden sense of humour that L.M.Montgomery talked about in the book, which I’m currently rereading.

I can’t, I just can’t. Now Cole feels betrayed by Anne, and Anne is devastated about the clubhouse.... and the women of Avonlea are against Miss Stacy, and Matthew disappointed Anne... can nobody be happy in this episode? It’s truly tragical and devastating. I should not have opted for rewatching it right before going to bed, on a school night at that. How will I sleep now?

Gosh, Cole really has had it now. I’m not saying Billy Andrews did not deserve it (he did and he does), but violence is never the answer. Still, I guess it’s justified now. Too bad it will probably lead to even more trouble for Cole. See, even he’s scared of what he’s done. He surely didn’t mean for it to go that far. And to the creators - this is no way to end an episode.

Let’s sum up: we meet Miss Stacy; intonation matters; the fox is in danger; Billy the bully has a weapon now - how bad can things get?; Bash struggles with farming; Anne accidentally makes a bad impression on a kindred spirit; appalling, stupid, clueless; ‘Come to me, Muse!’; Rachel Lynde sticks her nose into things that are not her business - what else is new; potato light bulbs; Bash visits Mary; the clubhouse is destroyed; Anne accidentally betrays Cole, leading to dramatic consequences; a disastrous ending to a devastating episode.

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prairiedust · 4 years

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Gimme Shelter livewatch under the cut.... I was on my phone when I wrote it so apologies for the typos

“Patchwork Community Center: Care Given to All” with a huge, lurid heart. Hmmm.... patchwork having two meanings here.....

Pastor (?) has 2 Timothy 2:22 tattooed on his arm! “Flee the evil desires of youth and pursue righteousness, faith, love and peace, along with those who call on the Lord out of a pure heart.” (NIV) Are we looking at growth and found family in this episode?!?

Oh that’s the alleyway!

Hitting mythology themes— Connor is an Anglicized version of an Irish name— Conchobar mac Nessa is maybe the most famous bearer of the name, from Irish mythology— he’s the king who lusted after Deirdre and had her locked up until she came of age, which is probably neither here nor there as far as this poor Connor is concerned...

That thing has a big lurid heart on his overalls better run lol— Oh shit it’s an evil Teddy Ruxpin!!!! Thanks Davy Perez!!!!

That’s the thing animal control uses to manage aggressive animals??? Is this saying something about the Patchwork people?

And that’s it for the cold open.

——

The uh, the mcfuckin what, the Camelot Palace Casino? Is this a tour of the legends of Ireland and Britain all of a sudden? What’s with hitting this theme so hard so fast?

Uh-oh the whole Highway to Heaven reference has me side-eyeing Dean’s suggestion for Cas snd Jack to leave the bunker... Dabb even “spoiled” that line in a tweet lol... in that show the cop and the angel got their (vague) assignments from the big guy.......

Oh SHIT “we’re standing in what I call ‘the trap zone’” Perez is coming for my whole life with this episode!!!! And they’re doing highkey “season one totally-normal Winchester investigation questions script” I love it!!!!

“Slasher flick” Oh we’re revisiting Mint Condition. This is fine.

AND TOMBSTONE THIS IS NOT FINE DAVY! We’re running the good times backwards what did I say about this being the flipside of Last Holiday!

H2H again but this time it’s sus... plus I’m with Zack, I totally want the cozy murder spinoff I imagined Adam and Michael doing plz

Oh the Cas and Jack dynamic here is so sweet.

Pastor just leaving his door open like there’s no such thing as a thief bless his heart. They must be torn up about Connor but Pastor was the last one to talk to him so he’s sus I don’t make the rules.

Oh no Red’s a THIEF!!! Who ever would have guessed. Okay I did NOT expect that jumpscare because of the way Connor’s murder primed me, that was masterfully done.

That’s vaguely an Ohio Star quilt square on the sign behind her except um I forget what that tilted square in the center turns it into? It’s chiming with something... I’ll have to look that up later.

“Divide and conquer” no never split up in a slasher movie that’s how you get murders use the buddy system!

Gonna stop a sec because I just realized that Zack is two-faced. The British dandy was an act. The killer is wearing a Cinderella mask. Ok I’m gonna make a prediction that Zack is actually the killer, a la the demon in Repo Man...

Okay there was definitely a beat after Dean said “Glad soneone’s taking charge” [ofHell] and the focus shifted to Sam. Hm.

“We’ve got to set her up for her own death” so meta, these writers are gonna shred us.

I love being shown how much Castiel has changed throughe Jack not understanding the Kool-Aid reference. And the cats line lol. That’s both amazing and poignant.

That’s a log cabin pattern in the cafeteria. Home. Makes me think back on other quilts we’ve seen this season and if “weaving” is the right metaphor for writing lol. I mean, the action of “patching” is synonymous with “mending” or even healing, but patchwork is also a craft with a long, long history in America (idk if quiltmaking is called patchwork everywhere) of taking a few often mismatched fabrics and cutting and sewing into something beautiful. There are generally two kinds of quilt tops— patterns, like we’ve seen so far in this season, which are carefully planned and involve precise measurements, and “crazy quilts” which also require skill but are often more freeform and piecemeal. But both aspire to be beautiful. That’s an interesting way to conceptualize a serial text... as both creating and mending....

That prayer was sweet and not at all what I was expecting.

I get the finger-cutting for Valerie (stealing=sticky fingers) but not for Connor? Tenuous connection still betw lying and writing? It’s evocative of Se7en but the killer seems to have the same MO for all the killings (I attended CSI for a while.)

Snow White is making me uneasy. Oh she’s the preacher’s daughter... we’ve seen that in early days, too.... oh.... oh....

It’s not the AV guy despite having seen all the AV equipment around Valerie. That’s too easy.

“A saint is a sinner who keeps trying-“ no scroll back, the important part was “we all have to take care of each other.” That’s a theme in the series.

She’s all in pink....

dean and amara on the same wavelength about food lol

Ha ha inversion of “oh you’re a fan of religion? name all seven gods then.”

Castiel’s testimony just wrecked me.

“Members serve the gift of food” hmmm the signs in this episode are tip-top

Gonna just watch for a while.

Oh crap “each is a finger” oh it’s about the sins of the father— No Cas no, you’ve fallen for the misdirection!

Oh okay good, Chuck’s not done snuffing worlds. That had me REALLY WORKED UP ha ha because Amara has no reason to lie right?

That was a really good conversation.... and implying that Former Death bent the truth...

Oh fuck I’m gonna cry “I wanted younto see that your mother was just a person” YES! DISMANTLE THIS MYTHOLOGY AMARA!!! Name it!

THE MYTH THAT YOU’D HELD ON TO FOR SO LONG did they just— THEY DID

rigging the game— ftfoh with the casino metaphors already we know the house always wins except when it doesn’t

Lying, lying, lying,

Do we even know Snow White’s name yet? And why was Connor a liar? Because I think we can make a guess at this point.... ah ha ha her name is sylvia— “forest spirit” she’s Mrs Butters— and she’s after hypocrites— but the killing isn’t supernatural, just churchy?

Oh shit SHE IS A DEAN MIRROR IF SHE STABS JACK I’LL FLIP A DAMN TABLE

....

prairiedust.exe has encountered an error and must be restarted

....

Okay so “Dad” steps in and stops Sylvia’s attack on Jack...

Why is that Zack? What????

“I’ve been lying to you” oh here we go

Oh it would be death #3, remember what Dabb said about threes a long time ago, two attempts that are unsuccessful and one that satisfies the parameters— but no he’s a jack :((((

I have to stop watching for a while.

Okay I finished it. Holy cats do I have some Thoughts about this episode.

What I loved: Revisiting Dean’s anger, BUT the parental mirror here (in retrospect, at least for me) was a John mirror-- all the mothers (exc for Rowena) in this episode are dead. And Pastor Joe didn’t apparently embrace his wife’s faith until she had died, and then his vision was radically different than his wife’s was-- much like John’s reasons for becoming a hunter were vastly different from Mary’s... but much like “patching” this subtext was possibly even more “healing” than having John back in the 300th ep... This was... looking at a child’s anger when they’re in the middle of their own family mythology. Am I implying that Dean’s anger is immaturity? Eh, it’s... unripeness. I have an old meta in my drafts about the heroine’s journey and why Mary’s story conformed to it while feeling totally unfulfilling in her actual character arc and I’m so glad I sat down and examined that rather than finish it. I have a lot I want to say about Cas’ testimony too, but that has to sit a while. ALSO also, Cas has already thrown away his shot by making the Empty deal, right?....

LANGUAGE! Cas saying “I found myself lost” is a bonkers sentence, right? It’s like when people say someone “turned up missing”-- AND it does not have the same meaning as “I realized I was lost”-- you get a double whammy of the connotation “to search for.” I loved loved loved how language was such a big deal in Last Holiday and then again here, I need to rewatch while paying closer attention to Sylvia and things she says... but these two were sister episodes in so many ways, that when I said there was a “lack of narrative mirrors” in Last Holiday, that’s only because the lens for that kind of reading is Gimme Shelter. That is not the first time spn has played with a “coin” or paired structure-- I think the first time I noticed it was Fan Fiction/Ask Jeeves but I was a transfer student from another fandom at the time lol. But of course, we get a huge truth bomb at the end of the episode, and again that splashy cymbal all over lying...

What I got wrong-- Zack wasn’t the killer but he’s fishy as hell-- he stole Sylvia! Is this part of Rowena’s “people generally end up where they deserve to be” except she’s built in an express lane? “Do you need a driver” is that his actual job now? Taking unripe souls to Hell Orientation? What’s up with him being there... the other shoe did not drop. So there is a third episode out there somewhere where this might get wrapped up? The conversation between Dean and Cas can easily be something that happens offscreen, and I don’t think that it would be the first time we miss an “important” conversation, especially since we know roughly what will be said and how it will wrap up-- it’s an “open text” of a sort. Maybe a fanfiction gap lol, I can’t wait for the codas.

Also, the fingers thing being Sylvia’s father’s favorite analogy is where she got her MO, something that I definitely didn’t see, although it fits right in with her father’s slightly pithy character. I think it’s interesting again how we’re playing with threes and fours. Three fingers got cut off but it was apparent that Valerie (valorious one) wouldn’t die until finger #4.... Jack really seems to be our last hope.

#the folklore of supernatural #the mythology of supernatural #mary winchester #davy perez #the second timothy of supernatural #gimme shelter #season 15 #my mom gave me the family baby name book when i was about eleven and so i had an obsession with names #all of my characters in all of my stories had Important Symbolic Names LOL #it amused my father who told me I needed to read herman melville #and there's a little bit of my own family mythos.#now i harangue my own kid to write and stuff ha ha ha except instead of a baby name book i gave him watership down #same effect #more rabbit fighting

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gwensanotherdimension · 4 years

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The Trials and Tribulations of being a Toy

Upon watching Toy Story 3, when I was in my seat watching these toys joining hands and accepting their fate of being incinerated, I felt an empty black pit of nothingness in my stomach. These toys were accepting their death and the end of their lives. That was pretty dark for a kids movie. They understood that this is what sometimes happens to toys. I was about eight years old when the movie was released and I’ve watched it more than I can admit. Of course I didn't understand what the big deal was about other than the fact that they were going to die. At the end of the movie, when Andy hands over the toys to Bonnie, it was the end of Toy Story and also the end of his childhood; but also it was the end of everyone else’s childhood. The kids that watched the first Toy Story as a kid are most definitely the same age as Andy in the third movie, if not slightly older. They all passed through the experience of growing out of your toys and moving past that stage of life. As I also grew older, nine years since the third movie, I had my own growing out of my toys' moments and putting them away. It was bitter sweet but the truth of life and what happens when children grow up. This lesson was highly impactful to any child growing up and growing out of their childhood, which made me upset when I saw that Toy Story 4 was going to be made. What could possibly top off how impactful the lesson in the third movie was?

I always thought that that was the perfect ending to a trilogy. Everyone grows up and moves on from toys, their toys are their deepest possessions and they have to say goodbye. I feel as if adding Toy Story 4 is unnecessary. Why restart what was ended so perfectly? While audiences bid farewell with the toys to Andy, it was also goodbye to the Toy Story trilogy. Spanning about 15 years, the movie ended where it needed to. But Pixar asked themselves, what are the toys up to now with Bonnie? Wouldn’t we like to know? And I can honestly say that my life hasn’t benefited since knowing. I was annoyed at the fact that they broke the perfect ending and added more to the story, at the end of the fourth (and hopefully the final) movie, Woody breaks apart from the main toy gang and stays with Bo Peep; traveling the world and expanding horizons.

Throughout the fourth movie, Woody has an existential crisis, he’s not a primary toy anymore, he always gets left in the closet and is often forgotten about. But when Forky (Voiced by Tony Hale) is created in class by Bonnie as a new friend, he protests that he’s just trash and is meant for a one use short-lived life. Woody tries to get Forky to realize that being a toy is an honour and their purpose to fulfill the child’s life (for the needed moment) He projects his need of being a wanted toy onto Forky who just wants to jump in the trash can. When the family stop at an RV park, Woody and Forky find themselves at an antique store, where Bo was dropped off nine years ago. She lives around in the area being a free toy and enjoying life. There’s also a small side-plot with a scary vintage Gabby Gabby doll and multiple creepy ventriloquist dummies where she essentially holds Forky hostage and lures Woody into the store in exchange for his voice box so she gets a chance at being a young girl’s toy.

Woody feels the need to protect Forky from throwing himself in the trash because he sees that the craft Spork means a lot to Bonnie. This stems from his need to feel wanted, Forky and Woody quickly understand each other and he fully convinces Forky that being a toy to a child is the best thing that can happen to a toy. However, the new characters that Woody meets have conflicting opinions, Bo ‘had a child’ but then she grew up and was pawned. But after about two years of not being sold, she left the store and started exploring the world around her. Duke Caboom, a stunt toy didn’t meet his child’s expectations and was thrown out. At the climax, when the gang are trying to break Forky away from Gabby’s locked case, Woody goes to extremes and risks the lives of the rest of the toys. In a heated moment, Bo asks him if their lives are worth less because they don’t belong to children. He retorts back that rescuing Forky for the happiness of Bonnie is his remaining purpose in life and that loyalty is something that a lost toy wouldn’t understand.

This time, when he returns to the store alone, Gabby shares her longing for a child’s love, which is similar to what Woody wants. They both long for the feeling of being wanted, and Woody sympathizes with her feelings and willingly gives over his voice box. Just before he leaves with Forky, he watches Gabby get rejected by her ideal owner, and he asks her if she would like to join the group with Bonnie. Just before they reach the RV Gabby notices a small girl lost at the carnival taking place during the events of this movie and she realizes her purpose is to help comfort this girl. When they reach the RV, Woody and Bo share a bittersweet goodbye, but Woody is hesitant to leave Bo again, he can’t help but notice the free life that she has, she’s fulfilled her purpose as a toy and is enjoying life. Buzz notices his longing for that lifestyle and assures him that Bonnie will be okay without him. The rest of the toys also share a bittersweet goodbye to Woody as he leaves the group and joins Bo finding owners for lost toys.

After the movie, I didn’t understand what the point of all this was. At the end of the third, they had already established the lesson of moving on, growing up and letting go of your childhood. In the fourth movie, they spin this lesson slightly, establishing that the hardest option is sometimes the best option. (The hardest option being Andy giving his toys away to Bonnie) I watched some behind the scenes to possibly pick up what I might've missed. It was definitely hard for Buzz to say goodbye to his longtime partner Woody; but he had to weigh the options. It’s hard to admit that you aren’t a used toy anymore, even though your only purpose in life at one time was to be there for a child; sometimes you aren’t going to have to be there. The lesson passed off in the fourth didn’t seem as impactful as the lesson in the third. When someone grows up, there isn’t a repeat option, there isn’t an option to return, that’s why I felt the growing up ending was a good drop-off point and final destination. It’s an ideal way of ending a movie series, toys are only toys up to a certain point in a human’s life. When people grow up, their toys and playtime aren’t as vivid now as they were when they were children. It’s almost as if toys live for the same amount of time as they're played with children.

Adding the fourth movie felt like re-opening a sewn seam and stitching another different piece of fabric into the shirt. Sure, there might be a handful of people that would’ve liked to see what the Toys were up to with Bonnie but it felt like an extended series type of thing instead of a legitimate attachment. I would’ve liked to see a mini-series released on Disney+ afterwards but not marked as the fourth movie. I have to keep reiterating the fact that Toy Story 3 had the best ending to a trilogy and the fourth was unnecessary and nobody cared enough to actively want to know.

Interestingly enough Toy Story 4 is the highest grossing installment of the franchise so I should be eating my words right now. Also, this movie was met with generally positive reviews and even won the academy award for Best Animated Feature. While I seemed to have picked this movie apart for existing, I have to applaud the movie for its spectacular animation. The flashback sequence at the beginning of the movie featured a heavy rainfall and was stunning. I couldn’t believe my eyes, it was incredibly photo-realistic. The lighting and shadows were equally impressive, the sky was beautifully layered with colours at different times in the day and there is a moment in the antique store where the sun shines through the window and the rays hit the different chandeliers and lamps and breaks off into a disco ball of colour and light. I noticed a comment on the trailer and someone had pointed out how they loved the modernization of the characters but still kept the original elements and designs in and I wholeheartedly agree.

It has some of the most beautiful realistic animation I’ve seen so far and this adds onto Pixar’s impressive roster of innovative photo-realistic animation. Starting with Toy Story, the animation looks like Toy Story 4’s rough draft animation. With each movie comes a new animation challenge that Pixar executes so perfectly. With Cars 3, they had to invent a program for the naturalistic mud that the cars were interacting with, and in Coco, skeletons proved to be a challenge with the animated fabric being caught on the joins and creases of the exposed bones and draping unnaturally from hip bones rather than real human hips. Pixar has continued to perfect and improve their animation software and I'm genuinely impressed every time.

Toy Story 4, in my humble opinion was unnecessary, I wished that Toy Story 3 was the final ultimate ending but alas, we have another strong ending to the franchise. While I don't think that it's as impactful as the third (And I don't think anything will ever top it) it was definitely a solid ending for Woody and his journey with the rest of the original gang

#toy story 4 #toy story 3 #pixar #movie essay #disney #pixar essay #pixar movies

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pumpkincentaur · 5 years

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11/11/11 Tag

Thanks to @writing-sky-scapes for the tag! The rules for this one are to answer the questions, come up with 11 more questions and tag 11 people, but I don’t usually pass tag games on so I’m just going to answer the 11 questions you came up with.

1. How many rewrites/replottings has your wip gone through (and times where you had like 4 chapters and then started over count)? Oof... this is a tough question. I’ve restarted The Bodies Beneath so many times I’ve literally lost count. At least twenty. As for Maybridge, I’ve made around four attempts so far, one of them ending in a finished first draft. Major replottings are something I don’t keep track of. I can’t count that high.

2. How many WIPs do you have in your head vs. how many you actually talk about to others? I have the two WIPs I actually talk about on this blog--those are the ones I’ve put real action into. As for other stuff... there are a lot of other things going on. I have at least three other concepts bouncing around in my brain, but I haven’t really put any real work into any of them, apart from my 2015 NaNoWriMo project, which was never finished.\

3. Longhand or computer for planning stuff? Definitely longhand.

4. What do you usually drink (if anything) while writing? Tea, usually. As of tomorrow it’ll probably start being whiskey.

5. How do you represent how your characters look (doll-makers, face claims, drawings, etc)? Drawings most often. Finding faceclaims for my characters can be really hard because a lot of them aren’t necessarily conventionally attractive, and some of them have some unusual features. Katsurou is a good example of why I don’t really bother with faceclaims--he’s Japanese, but looking for Japanese faceclaims inevitably results in nothing but models and J-Pop idol boys, and Katsurou doesn’t look like that at all. He’s not meant to be wonderfully good-looking (that’s David’s job) and using a perfect faceclaim would be disingenuous to his character and how I want to represent him. Therefore, no faceclaim.

6. Do you have stuff on in the background while you write or do you prefer silence? I am a music person. I’m always listening to music while I write. I find that instrumentals help me focus a little better... but that doesn’t stop me from jamming out while I write.

7. What are your favourite genres to write? Pretty much anything with some sort of supernatural thing going on. Literally no concept I’ve ever come up with has been completely grounded in reality. I love my speculative elements. I’d say my favourite genres are fantasy and magical realism.

8. Do you brainstorm ideas for your WIP with others or alone? A lot of the time I brainstorm alone, but my cool best bro forever @ed-ling is my brainstorming partner the rest of the time.

9. What is the biggest change an OC has gone through since you made them? Lily in The Bodies Beneath used to be... a completely different person. She was promiscuous, and a troublemaker, and a huge daredevil. Now she’s pretty much been married to Gabe since they were in kindergarten and is a lot calmer about her troublemaking. She’s a lot calmer in general, and lives outside of the general rules and expectations of society as opposed to actively rebelling. She just doesn’t understand said rules and expectations. That’s a far cry from the loud little sparkplug she used to be.

10. What is the biggest change in your WIP since you first came up with it? TBB kind of became a series on me a month ago. Like, I had a finished third draft of what was supposed to be a stand-alone novel, and then I got a better idea. So that happened.

11. What is your favourite time of day/night to write? Whenever I have time, tbfh.

Now, I’m not going to pass this one on, because I never pass on tag games. But enjoy learning about my WIPs that I totally don’t talk about enough.

#delaney speaks #tag games #finally got around to some of these lol

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reny-aguirre · 6 years

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My Novel Writing Process

I was thinking what would be a good way to restart my blog here and I've seen quite some authors talk about their process. And given that it is a very general topic I decided it is a good idea to show you what I undergo to create a novel.

I want to let you know that this is just the way I work out my way to a first draft. I believe that everyone is different and my method might not adapt to every single person or story for that matter. Still I think this might be useful if you are will to become a plotter and you don't know how to.

My novel writing process has four stages: getting the idea and shaping it, outlining the main elements and researching any topic I don't know much about, reviewing my outline and fixing plot holes and last but definitely not least writing a first draft. After that I would review my manuscript again and again but that is a long process on its own so I won't be touching on that today.

1. The idea

Personally I take ideas from two main sources:

A. situations happening around me

B. interesting topics that pop up as I search the Internet.

For example for my book "Secret Santa’s Secrets" the idea came as I was in a Christmas party with some friends. And I wondered if we would be on the same place in a few years. But what if one of my friends was gay? What if the cute couple in the corner were married, pregnant and actually the hosts of the party? What if everyone had a secret the others had no clue about?

That gives me a sense of circumstances that could be relatable or attention-grabing. But to really consider an idea for a story I as my self :"What would happen if...?"

When it has some more shape I create a new note on my phone and title it with something related to it. SSS was originally called Christmas Secrets. Then I type a general idea of what the story would be about. At this point I let it sit there for a few days and try to focus on other aspects of my life. And sometimes I end up unconsciously thinking back to that new fresh idea, but with more details, that's when I know I really want to write this story.

After about a week or so I go ahead and pour what ever new details or twist I have come up with. And from there I keep adding more and more information about where the story heads towards. Sometimes I can even end up writing full paragraphs that maybe later become part of the actual story.

2. Outline and Research

When I decide to sit down and outline it means I have too many notes in a random order that I can't handle them anymore.

So I sit down and go note by note and place it in one of the following categories :

A. Basics

Here goes everything from format to a short summary I can tell to friends and family.

B. Plot

I use for most of my stories a beat sheet, here I write every posible plot and subplot that will be occurring throughout the story in a chart. I don't go to deep into them until later

C. Setting

This evolves everything that has to do with the atmosphere not only for the characters but also for the reader. Yes the weather might be important, but even more important is the feeling that you are trying to evoke.

D. Characters

I make a chart for each one of them where I describe them physically, psychologically and socially.

E. Quotes

In this part go every moment I imagined so clearly that I had to type down ASAP. Personally it helps me a lot to look back at some of these scenes when I feel like I am in a writers block.

F. Resources

This is everything that I am not using right now but I might need later. Investigation on a certain topic, names that were left over but that I really like, dates, even character descriptions; all of these things I count them as resources.

After I have all my notes organized in these categories, I fill in the blanks. Any missing plot, or last name or whatever it is I am missing.

Then once I have a pretty good sense of where I want the story to go, I start dividing the plots into chapters and explaining them some more. In this phase I give each point a cause and a reaction.

Once I am done with the chapter explanation I then explain them even further in a scene list. Which I consider to be a long summary. I would say maybe 10 pages long.

If I realize at any point during outlining that there is some important topic that I have no clue about, I start researching it like crazy. The best example for this would be my research about plane crashes and about chess strategies for TROB. I investigated for 10 days straight.

Also during this stage I create a playlist that will follow me through out my writing of the story.

3. Outline changes

After I finish the outline I let the story rest for a couple of months. It is important to me to see the story with fresh eyes. And in my opinion two or three months are enough time to have a new point of view about your outline.

I then proceeded to make any changes I find necessary and fix plot holes. This allows me to have a much seamless first draft writing.

I let this better outline rest again for a few more weeks before getting into the actual draft.

4. The first draft

This I would say is the easiest part of the process, because I already know where the story is headed and at the same time I don't need to worry about getting it perfect. That's what rewrites are meant for.

If at any point I feel a little lost I go back to my outline. If I feel like I lack inspiration for a certain scene or chapter I go through my playlist to find songs that would convey the feelings I want to provoke with that scene. It runs smoothly because of the preparation.

One of my main worries when I started plotting (I used to be a frustrated pantser five years ago. ) was "what if my character decides to do something different than what I outlined?" and it held me back from planning my story out. Now I know that there are two simple answers to it:

A. Your outline is just a map that shows you a way to get from point a to point b, that doesn't mean that there are no other posible paths to follow to get to the same place.

B. You are the writer! You decide what your characters are going to do, the way they act and react. If it wasn't for you they would most likely not even exist so you decide where the story goes.

I hope getting to know about my process was helpful for you and your story. If that was the case, hit the heart on the corner of this post to let me know.

If you have any questions or comments about this topic, feel free to comment down below. And I will do my best to get back to you as soon as possible.

I will read you next time, until then keep on writing,

Ren

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your-dietician · 3 years

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The Bucks’ path to the NBA Finals — The Undefeated

New Post has been published on https://tattlepress.com/nba/the-bucks-path-to-the-nba-finals-the-undefeated/

The Bucks’ path to the NBA Finals — The Undefeated

There’s a well-known comment in Wisconsin when it comes to the hometown Milwaukee Bucks’ chances in a given playoff series: Bucks in six.

What started as a fool-hearted, yet enduring proclamation by then-Bucks guard Brandon Jennings ahead of a 2013 first-round series matchup with the “Big Three” Miami Heat – (“I’m sure everybody is writing us off but I see us winning the series in six,” Jennings said at that year’s Wisconsin Sports Awards) – morphed over the years into a rallying cry for a team that hasn’t made it to the NBA Finals in nearly half a century. Sometimes close, but never close enough.

But in the past eight years, starting just a few weeks after Jennings’ doomed prediction (the Heat swept the Bucks in 2013) with the drafting of a lanky kid out of Greece named Giannis Antetokounmpo, the Bucks have revamped, reconfigured, restarted and rebuilt themselves into an actual title contender that no longer lives on the fringes of the playoffs.

On Saturday night, after back-to-back years of underperforming in the postseason, the Bucks clinched the Eastern Conference title with a 118-107 victory over the Atlanta Hawks, fittingly reaching their first NBA Finals since 1974 in six games.

And it was all without Antetokounmpo, who has been sidelined with a hyperextended left knee since the third quarter of Game 4. For a team that prides itself on playing as a complete unit, rather than a Gladys Knight & the Pips-style one-man show, the Bucks leaned heavily on their two other stars, Jrue Holiday and Khris Middleton. The duo combined for 59 points, 13 rebounds and 16 assists, with Middleton overcoming a poor first half (five points and five turnovers) to drop 23 points in the third quarter.

“Khris carried us there for a lot of it, just leaving his heart out there,” Holiday said. “Just kind of like if we’re going to go down, we’re going to go down on his shoulders. I’m riding with him, riding right into the Finals.”

Making it easier for the Bucks on Saturday was that Young, who bruised a bone in his foot during Game 3, was clearly still hobbled. The third-year guard declined to attack the paint and had his passing lanes clogged up, leading to him starting the first quarter with nearly as many turnovers and personal fouls (three) as minutes played (four). At one point, Young shook 7-foot center Brook Lopez for an open look from atop the key but uncharacteristically passed the ball away.

“I still have pain. It’s going to be like this for at least a couple more days, so I knew I wasn’t going to be able to feel 100%,” Young said after the game. “So I was going to go out and at least try and try to do it again.”

As the game wore on, Young became less timid, but aside from another breakout game from guard Cam Reddish (21 points, 6-of-7 on 3s), the Hawks weren’t enough for Milwaukee. While the Bucks were failed by poor shooting, lack of energy and hustle in the two games they lost in this series, those were their keys to victory on Saturday. The Bucks outgained the Hawks in 3-pointers (17-12) and rebounds (46-43) and committed one less turnover, the type of complete performance that is needed out of a championship winner.

“We needed everybody. I think that’s the best part about it. We needed something from everybody,” P.J. Tucker said. “Our bench was amazing all series, all playoffs, everybody on our team gave something.

“Giannis goes out, Bobby [Portis] has been great, everybody came in and fought hard the entire series. It just shows our team. It just shows the guts of our team.”

Giannis Antetokounmpo (left) and Khris Middleton (right) celebrate as Eastern Conference champions.

David Dow/NBAE via Getty Images

Before this season, this Bucks team wasn’t able to put it all together at just the right time.

As the team’s production began to rise during the 2017-18 season, when Antetokounmpo started to show flashes of the superstar he would soon become, so did their expectations. The Bucks finished the next two seasons with the best record in the league, but were dispatched from the playoffs early by two hungrier teams that went on to win the East.

They were then, fairly or not, labeled as a “regular-season” team, meaning they could be successful during the regular season, but once the playoffs hit, they didn’t have the mental toughness and/or strategy to be championship caliber.

It also didn’t help that Milwaukee ran into players who decided to go supernova during the playoffs. In 2019, Kawhi “Cyborg” Leonard, on one good leg, snatched the heart from the Bucks as the Toronto Raptors overcame a 2-0 deficit to run off four straight wins on their way to an NBA championship. Last season, inside the Walt Disney World bubble, Jimmy Butler willed the lower-seeded Miami Heat into a second-round upset of the Bucks ahead of their own run to the Finals. Even this postseason, the Bucks had to battle the offensive brilliance of Kevin Durant and Young, at least until the latter’s series-altering ankle injury in Game 3.

In the past, when the pressure reached a precipice, everyone from the coaches to players seemed to falter. Antetokounmpo and Coach Mike Budenholzer couldn’t figure out how to scale the “wall” defenses built. Middleton, while brilliant when he’s on (particularly against the Boston Celtics), would suddenly develop a case of the yips in pivotal postseason moments. Shots that would fall for role players wouldn’t fall anymore, no matter Budenholzer’s “let it fly” mantra.

“It’s adversity,” Pat Connaughton said of losing in the playoffs the past two years. “I would say it’s unfortunate, but you learn a lot from losing. You really look yourself in the mirror and there’s two ways you can go: You can hang your head about it or you can use that as motivation to get better and fix the problems that you have and continue to work every single day and understand that it’s a process.”

But this season and its playoffs were different. The Bucks were more flexible in everything from their roster construction to their offensive sets. Those who couldn’t step up in crunch time in the past were suddenly inheritors of the clutch gene.

“Every team has a different journey and every team has to go through different things,” Budenholzer said. “… I think just like every team in the league, when this group hasn’t been able to advance, hasn’t been able to continue, it’s hurt. It’s been hard. The offseason, the guys have put the work in, the players have put the work in. And I’m impressed with what they have done, really every year, but coming into this year.

“But there’s still work to be done.”

Budenholzer has been heavily criticized over the past two years for his failure to adjust in the playoffs. According to various reports, his job was on the line if the Bucks weren’t able to make tangible progress in the playoffs. But he has made the necessary changes to get his team to the Finals. And it was general manager Jon Horst who helped construct a roster that emphasized both 3-pointers (as he had in the past) but also toughness, both the physical and mental variety.

Portis, who signed to a two-year, $7.5 million deal in November, made all the difference in Game 5 (and had the Fiserv Forum crowd in a frenzy during the blowout in Game 2). Tucker, who was traded to the Bucks in March, played strong defense on Durant in the second round. Jeff Teague, who played for Atlanta for parts of eight seasons, made three 3s in Game 6. Bryn Forbes, who cooled off in the later rounds, outscored Butler in the first round. Connaughton grabbed offensive rebounds and hit timely 3s. Lopez, Donte DiVincenzo, the list goes on.

As for the Bucks’ Big Three of Antetokounmpo, Middleton and Holiday (acquired in November from the New Orleans Pelicans), each had their mental breakdowns and struggles during both the past and these playoffs, but when the team needed them to help close out games, they showed up: Middleton’s game winner against Miami in the first round, Antetokounmpo in crunch-time minutes against Brooklyn in the second round, and Holiday in the last two games without Antetokounmpo.

The team that could start strong but never finish has finally vanquished that label. And it’s poetic that it was Middleton who led the Bucks to this Finals run.

Middleton has grown from an afterthought in the 2013 trade that shipped Jennings off to Detroit and brought Middleton, Brandon Knight and Viacheslav Kravtsov to the Bucks (Middleton was referred to as one of “two other players” at the time of the trade), to the certified closer on a team that is four wins from winning its first title since 1971.

As the Bucks tanked and rebuilt around Antetokounmpo at the beginning of last decade, Middleton was there for the rough days of sub-.500 records, missed playoffs and lottery picks. Through his game winner against Miami, his dual 38-point games against Brooklyn and Atlanta, and his second-half outburst on Saturday, Middleton sums up just how far these Bucks have come.

“Honestly, it’s been a long journey, but it’s been a great journey,” Middleton said after the game. “It’s been worth it. We put ourselves in position to be in the NBA Finals. After winning 15 games in our first year here and seven years not making the playoffs to the last two years thinking we had a chance and just didn’t do enough and now we’re here.

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“This is what we’ve worked for.”

Martenzie is a writer for The Undefeated. His favorite cinematic moment is when Django said “Y’all want to see somethin?”

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junker-town · 4 years

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The Bubble Suns gave Phoenix fans a glimpse of a bright future

The Suns missed the playoffs for the 10th straight season, but their play in the bubble shows better days are ahead.

The Phoenix Suns have a case as the most dysfunctional franchise in the NBA over the last 10 years this side of the Knicks. This was the team that saw live goats defecate all over the GM’s office, cycled through different head coaches every year, couldn’t even pull off a grocery store autograph signing without controversy, and — just when it looked like they had turned the corner — lost their franchise center to a 25-game suspension for diuretics.

For the last decade, if something could go wrong for the Suns, it probably did. That’s part of the reason why their flawless run in the NBA’s restart bubble felt so inspiring.

The Suns were the only team to finish a perfect 8-0 in the bubble. Phoenix still missed the playoffs for the 10th straight season, but for the first time since the heyday of Steve Nash and Amar’e Stoudemire, it feels like the fanbase has something to get excited about.

Anyone who watched Phoenix play in the bubble can see how bright their future will be. This is why it’s a good time to be a Suns fan for the first time in a decade.

Devin Booker finally played like a legitimate star

If Damian Lillard is the Bubble MVP, Booker certainly finished as a close second. Booker was electric in the season restart, averaging 30.5 points per game on 50 percent shooting from the field while dishing out six assists per game during the Suns’ perfect 8-0 stretch. After years of being viewed as an empty calories scorer, Booker looks like a legitimate star.

Booker’s run started to feel like something special by his third game in the bubble against the mighty Los Angeles Clippers. Booker went off for 35 points and eight assists, and hit a game-winning buzzer-beater over the outstretched arms of Kawhi Leonard and Paul George.

DEVIN BOOKER! GAME-WINNER! pic.twitter.com/vUvwABgyE5

— NBA TV (@NBATV) August 4, 2020

It’s wild to think Booker is still only 23 years old. Every losing season in Phoenix has felt like a referendum on his career to this point, but he’s finally showing how unfair that is. With a better supporting cast around him, Booker has increased his scoring efficiency, developed into a better playmaker, cut down on his turnovers, and stopped feeling like he had to take on NBA defenses 1-on-5.

Read the great Mike Prada for a thorough breakdown on how Booker finally ascended to superstar status. Booker was named an All-Star for the first time in his career this season, and it feels like an honor he should be achieving with regularity from here on out.

Deandre Ayton and Mikal Bridges are emerging pieces next to him

While Booker’s play drew most of the headlines, it wouldn’t have been possible without an improved roster around him. The two most promising pieces are center Deandre Ayton and wing Mikal Bridges.

Ayton may never live down being taken in front of Luka Doncic in the NBA draft, but he still projects as one of the best young big men in the league. Ayton has always had elite physical tools and been an efficient scorer dating back to his college days at Arizona, but this season he made tangible strides in the weaker areas of his game, especially defensively. For all of the points and rebounds Ayton put up this season, it’s plays like this one that should really get Phoenix fans excited.

THIS SEQUENCE BY DEANDRE AYTON pic.twitter.com/BYb5MQfykR

— Mike Vigil (@protectedpick) August 6, 2020

Speaking of defense, let’s talk about Mikal Bridges. The Suns tabbed Bridges with the No. 10 pick in the 2018 draft out of Villanova hoping he could develop into the type of 3-and-D wing every team covets. Phoenix fully saw that vision of Bridges in the bubble.

Bridges smothers opposing offensive players with his quick feet and 7’1 wingspan. He was pretty much the only defender to lock down T.J. Warren in the bubble. He’s also made strides with his three-point shot, eliminating a hitch he showed early in his pro career to make better than 36 percent of his attempts from deep in the bubble.

I’ve been a fan of Bridges’ game dating back to his college days, and it was a joy to see him put it all together in the bubble. Phoenix doesn’t need Bridges to be a creator to be impactful — he just has be a star in his role. Just ask the Bucks how valuable really good 3-and-D guys are.

With a superstar guard in Booker in place, the Suns now also have an emerging defensive force on the wing and a stud center. That’s a good start, but the Suns deserve credit for the rest of the roster, too.

The Suns have a complete roster around their core pieces

It’s no coincidence that the needle finally started trending up for the Suns after they signed Ricky Rubio. Phoenix’s point guard play had been dreadful the last few seasons, but Rubio immediately provided a steady hand in his first season with the Suns after signing as a free agent. The Suns were simply a better team with Rubio on the floor running the offense, which was proven by his team-best net rating.

The Suns made another move in the offseason that drew less attention than the Rubio signing but had a similarly big impact. That would be the trade for veteran center Aron Baynes. Baynes was unbelievably good for the Suns in the first half of the year, providing newfound three-point shooting on offense and enough rim protection on defense to keep Phoenix afloat. There aren’t many better backup centers in the league. Baynes just seemed to professionalize Phoenix in all the ways they fell short before, which is the goal of any team when they acquire a new veteran.

It doesn’t stop there. The Suns were panned for picking Cameron Johnson at No. 13 overall in the NBA draft, but he looks like a valuable role player as a 6’8 shooter. I would like to apologize for not having him on my list of the best rookies this season — he deserved to be there. Kelly Oubre was having a career-year before he suffered a season-ending meniscus tear. Dario Saric was a solid veteran addition to the front court. Phoenix even pulled Cameron Payne out of China and made him a productive backup point guard in the bubble.

Phoenix’s typically maligned front office deserves real credit for what they did with this roster. Their best decision might have been who they decided to hire as head coach.

Monty Williams is the perfect coach for the young Suns

I wrote my glowing review of the Suns’ decision to hire Monty Williams back in December. If there was any doubt about how much respect he commanded from his team, just watch the speech he delivered after the Suns won their final game in the bubble:

Monty Williams is a real one. You always want a coach like this. (via @suns) pic.twitter.com/NxbyhCj2Cf

— SLAM (@SLAMonline) August 13, 2020

The Suns have a star in Booker. They have two impressive starters next to him in Bridges and Ayton. The overall talent level on the rest of the roster is significantly improved. And they have a great coach.

The Suns didn’t make the playoffs, but they still showed how bright their future is at the bubble. After 10 straight years of missing the postseason, it finally feels like Phoenix is ready for a new chapter of sustained respectability.

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emmadeforests · 7 years

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Hey Now

A fic set in @fandomfishie's Eurovision Part Of Town. Manel Navarro and Nathan Trent's bromance has, at this point, reached epic proportions, and so this meant that of course I had to write a fic about it. I should add that this is NOT meant to be shippy in ANY WAY. This is just meant to be the beginnings of the ESC17 squad in the EPOT - similar to how the first interaction of the Baltic Boys, Douwe, and Ivan might have gone. Disclaimers, as usual, apply. This should not be shown to anyone mentioned in the fic or otherwise involved with Eurovision in any official capacity. -- Nathan isn't sure how long exactly he's been in this town, but he knows it hasn't been long. There's a really great waterfall here, and a ferry. And a GREAT bar. The food here is just generally wonderful - although he leaves out the casino's ice cream bar. He leaves out the casino. Nathan's pretty sure that at least one little kid is subscribed to him. He doesn't want to set a bad example. "In this town," he writes, "the thing you notice first is how welcoming everyone is. Everyone is just so lovely. I've made a new friend! His name is Kristian and he works at the coffeehouse near the college side of town. Great kid - but scarily tall. And the place has good coffee, won't lie." Inviting management, great service, a killer barista - Nathan's considering checking out the open mic night too. He saves his draft and shuts his laptop. "Hi everyone!" Manel types. "This little excursion is going great so far." He proceeds to talk about all the cool opportunities one can get in the Eurovision Part Of Town. While he's had fun, he thinks the place lacks a place to surf. He isn't sure if that body of water is a lake or an ocean - Nodi and Sophie, who gave him the tour, didn't specify - but either way it looks like something he could surf on. He hopes his family and friends back home enjoy this post. He thinks he'll go out tonight - he heard about this karaoke night thing on the radio on his way back from the waterfall tour. Sounds interesting. Manel saves his draft and heads out. Nathan gets there early. People are still coming in. He hears little snippets of arguments - "but I can't decide if I should sell suits or just be a gym"; "she's dyed it orange, Rykka has no standards, I swear"; "Timur says it's an immigration issue, but I worry it's because transportation has something against Monika and this is their twisted way of dealing." Seems like there's always something happening here. Manel arrives later. A guy named Brendan he'd met on the waterfall tour is dueting to a Beyoncé song with some other man. It sounds nice, Manel must admit. But he'll top that. Nathan sits down and listens to two people duet in French, a man and a woman. The man, Nathan gathers, is Amir, one of the more celebrated residents of the Eurovision Part Of Town. A real people person. His duet partner is less known. Alma, her name is. Nathan is trying to find out more about her when the next act starts. His friend from the coffeeshop singing some Ed Sheeran number with some guy in a tropical shirt. It sounds...nice. Calming, almost. Manel approaches Beyoncé guy after, while most people are buying drinks or socializing. "You did good earlier," he says. "You too," the guy replies. "I'm Nathan." "Manel." "Cool. So what do you do around here?" "I'm a travel blogger." "What? No! Me too," Nathan laughs. They exchange cell numbers and plan to meet at the park the next day. The park, Manel has ascertained, is less of a gathering place than the bar or coffee shop and is really just the property upon which they hold the farmer's market, but they two figure it's a good enough place to meet. Close to lots of other places if nothing else. Nathan goes back to his hotel room and finishes up his blog post. "The open mic night - or karaoke night, or whatever you want to call it - really encompasses the spirit of this town. Anyone who wants to sing is welcomed, and whatever they want to sing is fine. It's an inclusive policy I'd love to see in other towns." He clicks post - but then the wifi goes out. "Dammit!" he says, and runs down to be angry at the manager. She calls her tech guy, but somehow everything is up and running again before Sergey can even get there. Nathan tries to access his post again, but the draft is gone. He's annoyed, but too tired to deal with it now. He'll rewrite it in the morning. Manel types his finishing sentence and ends with an emoji, as has become his trademark. He's about to click post when his computer restarts. Cursing, he frantically hits his computer numerous times, but no dice. It won't let him turn it on again until night has given way to dark and early morning, and by then he knows there's no hope of rescuing his post. He gives up and goes to sleep. Everyone is abuzz the following morning. Something has happened. Nathan wonders if it has anything to do with the wifi. Manel is there already. Nathan offers his hand for a handshake and is promptly pulled into a bro hug. This is fine. They chat. About karaoke night. Each expresses interest at getting to know the other's duet partner. Nathan is surprised to find that Manel also experienced laptop issues the night before - although an unexpected restart is an entirely different bear than a wifi outage. Manel suggests going to the creamery. So there they walk. And chat. Manel learns that mountainous areas are Nathan's favorite places to blog about, and he shares his predilection for the beach in return. Once they arrive, they find - who else but Brendan and Kristian! The four take a table together and deliberate over what to order. "I've been dying to try this strawberry brownie thing," Brendan says. Kristian offers to split it with him - the servings are rather large here. Manel and Nathan opt for a huge cone of vanilla ice cream, with every topping on offer. It's an...interesting choice to say the least. "It's a mess," Manel comments distastefully upon first seeing the mound of crushed candy, nuts, and virtually anything you could ever think of putting on ice cream. "It's a beautiful one, though," Kristian replies. The four are joined by Robin and Imri, although most of their time is spent bickering over what kind of business Robin should have. "I just can't go on with this," Robin says. "Do I open a gym or a suit shop?" They are unable to come to an agreement - even less so when Aleksander and Jowst show up and monopolize the conversation. About what, Nathan can't be sure. He's lost in the fun of it all. The sunlight is fading by the time most everyone else has left and Manel is alone with Nathan again. Nathan suggests the coffee shop for lack of anything else to do, even though Kristian's shift is long over and Rykka will likely be the only person there. Nathan bemoans the lack of sushi in the Eurovision Part Of Town, and Manel suggests, why doesn't he start a business? Nathan laughs, but Manel remembers his irritation that there wasn't a good place to surf - the water near the lighthouse would be perfect - and that's when the idea hits him. Nathan is people-watching. He notices a man with a mustache and a young woman with dirt on her overalls take a sip of their coffee and make disgusted faces at the exact same moment. Both begin to yell at the barista, but Rykka laughs calmly and points to their cups. One says Francesco, the other Francesca. They'd grabbed the other's order. Nathan laughs at this, but only later does he register what Manel had been saying - "Why don't you start one, then?" The men go to their separate hotel rooms and write a blog post. "Hi friends. As you might have noticed, I haven't moved on to a new place yet. Sometimes it's hard to figure out what you want to do and so you just explore places. I had to meet the right people first, but I think I've decided to settle down here. Maybe I'll start this up again someday. Who knows?" They each click post. It works. They walk outside to the park, satisfied with their decision. It's night. Many people are gathered. There's a brazier now where there wasn't before. A woman in a wheelchair who works for the mayor goes to light it. And as Nathan and Manel outline their plans for their futures in the Eurovision Part Of Town, the flame burns. -- NOTES: 1. I completely forgot that Amir was the EPOT dentist while writing this, which is why I don't mention him in any more detail. Kristian's job came from a conversation with Sev. 2. I don't know if there was a park before but there's one now ok 3. The Julia Samoilova issue sort of runs in the background here. If the other writers want to go more in-depth with it that's fine, but what I had happen is Monika lighting a fire in commemoration (in a similar manner to the moment of silence held after Ovidiu disappeared). 4. The sushi thing comes from Nathan's profile video, where he says sushi is his favorite food. 5. @esc-is-for-eurovision told a story in the discord about a similar coffee mixup and it made me laugh so I used it.

#the eurovision part of town #kat's fic tag

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