#idk either way I maybe spent longer than I would have liked on these pages

[chiliger]

If there’s one thing to fear in any galaxy…

#chiligerart #comic #Star Wars #the clone wars #selva company #la chancla #commander carlos #bella tehpe #arc trooper peck #marlu epuna #star wars oc #clone trooper oc #original character #peck isn’t an arc yet at this point but shhhh the tag is still accurate #fear the chancla. whomever wields it is gifted with incredible aim and strength #I gotta figure out how to speed up my comic process. or maybe I’m just rusty #idk either way I maybe spent longer than I would have liked on these pages

[jcbbby]

oooooh buddy. yikes yikes yikes. okay, this is my first just straight up smut fic. this is NOT my usual thing at all, so like…this may be absolute garbage??? I’m sorry in advance lmaoooo. this is also like, SO LONG I feel like, because I just literally don’t know how to get the fuck to the point and I just keep writing? lol side note, this is for those who have ever needed to get railed in a sun dress. ;)

If you’re not comfortable with this type of fic, please don’t read! I still love you either way! <3

Warnings: 18+ only MINORS LOOK AWAY, rpf but in an alternate universe, age gap (reader is like 19, Jamie is 34), p in v sex, unprotected sex (do not try at home, kids), oral (female receiving), obvious major power dynamic issue lol, kinda a slow burn? Idk what I’m doing

*************************************************************

It was a warm and humid late May Friday afternoon. You walked through the courtyard, tossing your hair up into a loose bun to get it off your neck in this heat. You dressed for the temperature, wearing a short yellow sun dress with spaghetti straps, complete with strappy sandals showing off your pedicured toes. You were ready for your week-long stay in the Florida Keys, a cliché but nevertheless exciting college summer vacation. Your first year of college was ending, and the only thing that stood in your way of you and your friends’ trip was your final exam for Professor Bower’s class.

Truth be told, you were a little disappointed to be finishing his class, even though it was just a standard required English literature course. You often found yourself absentmindedly staring up at him as he sat on the edge of his desk, a pen tucked with soft blonde locks behind his ear, leading a group discussion on the assigned reading. His high cheek bones, chiseled jaw, pale blue eyes, the wrinkles that would form in the corner of his eyes as he smiled at wonderfully thought-out opinions and analyses from the students, his charming British accent.

There was that one time he leaned in close at your desk to look over your work, feeling the warmth of his body radiate against you, his cologne lingering for a few moments after walking away. How he said your name when calling on you to answer a question. How you would drift off into a daydream wondering how your name would sound leaving his lips in a much more intimate setting… You spent the whole semester in his class feeling a yearning deep in your core. You were going to milk today’s time in his classroom as long as you could. Perhaps you had also worn the outfit you had chosen for more than just the heat wave, hoping to catch his attention just once before parting ways.

The campus was quieter than usual, with many students having already finished their exams and left for the summer. You had some time before your exam and decided to stop by the café on campus for a coffee and last minute study session. After being handed your drink, you went to take a seat on one of the couches and took out your notebook, scanning over the pages of notes.

“Ah, a little cramming session?” A familiar voice said in front of you.

You looked up from being buried in the pages to see him, Professor Bower. He was dressed much more casual than usual. In a pair of black jeans with a white t-shirt and a black blazer over it.

You smiled. “Oh…well, you know. Couldn’t hurt, right?” He looked incredible; you loved this more laid back look on him. Not that he didn’t look great in a tie as well. “You look like you’re ready for summer vacation.”

He looked down at his outfit and back up to you with a chuckle. “Yeah, I figured I’d tone it down for this last day, maybe help everyone relax for the exam… you look like you’re in summer vacation mode as well. You look…very nice.” He looked you up and down, lingering a little longer than you expected somewhere below your eyeline.

You blushed and felt butterflies in your abdomen. “Oh um…thank you. I-I’m heading south after this.” You cursed yourself in your head for saying it like an innuendo.

“You don’t say, how fun.” He grinned. “Well, I better go get everything printed. I’ll see you in class. Good luck on the exam, Y/N.”

You nodded with a meek smile as he turned and headed off in the other direction. All you could think about were his eyes on you, how you would have loved to see what his hands would have done, and how tightly your thighs were squeezing together.

****

The classroom was dead silent during the exam, except for the scribbling of pens and pencils across pages. Jamie was sitting at his desk at the front of the room, glancing over his macbook every so often at the room. You found it hard to focus after your encounter earlier, looking up frequently to gaze at him. On a few occasions, he caught you, your eyes meeting for a brief second before you frantically and embarrassingly looked back down at the exam. He would smirk to himself as you felt your cheeks grow hot. You’re blowing it, you thought to yourself.

One by one, each of your classmates brought their finished exams up to the front, with Jamie quietly telling each of them to have a good summer.

“30 minutes left, guys.” He announced to the few of you remaining.

He looked directly at you, holding your gaze for what felt like an eternity before going back to his work on his laptop. You looked back down at your exam, now furiously writing, worried that you wouldn’t finish because of your distracted mind. Not only were you embarrassing yourself in front of the hot professor, but you would also fail his class. Before you knew it, it was just you and Jamie left in the classroom. You glanced to the clock, swallowing hard.

“Time’s up, love.” He said from his desk.

You sighed, gathering your belongings and making your way to the front. You handed your packet to him. “I uh…I didn’t finish. I’m sorry…”

Jamie tutted as he reached for the papers. “Even with that last minute study session?”

“I guess I was…a little distracted…” You shifted on your feet.

“Distracted?” Jamie leaned back in his chair. “Anything you’d want to talk about?” The look in his eyes felt ravenous, like they were reeling you in as prey.

“I don’t know…” You started as he stood up and began walking around to the front of the desk. You felt your breathing get heavier and a sudden wave of confidence washed over you. “I-I uh…kept thinking about how good you look in that blazer…”

Jamie let out a soft chuckle as he came to sit on the front of his desk like usual. “Is that so?”

You turned slightly to face him. “And…how good you’ve looked all semester...how I’ve been hoping you’d notice me…” Your entire body was electrified, being this close to him, desperately wanting his hands on you.

Jamie smirked, taking your arm and guiding you in between his slightly spread legs. Your breath hitched. His hands rested at your hips, sending aching pulses straight to your pussy.

“Darling, I’ve noticed. You always wearing those short skirts, twirling your pen in your mouth in class, not even knowing you’re driving me wild…but we both know I can’t get involved like that with a student…as much as I want to…” His voice was low, you felt his hands start to caress your hips and move towards your ass.

“But I’m technically not your student anymore…the exam is over, I’m done with your class.” You put your hands on his chest, leaning into him, feeling his chest rise and fall with more force. You craned your neck up at him.

He snorted a laugh. “You know I meant as a university student here in general…fuck, you look so good in this dress though.” His hand now resides firmly on your ass.

You began tracing circles with your finger on his chest, looking up at him with your best doe eyes. “I won’t tell if you don’t tell…” You whispered, pressing yourself into him, feeling him harden beneath you.

Jamie groaned quietly with a slight chuckle. “Oh, you’re gonna be the death of me....fuck it.”

He hungrily pressed his lips into yours, both of you immediately softly moaning into the other’s mouth, overwhelmed with want. You move your hands from his chest, wrapping them around his neck. His tongue greedily asked for entrance at your lips, which you wasted no time allowing it in, twirling yours with his. A semester’s worth of desire was erupting inside you, finally coming to fruition.

As you both clumsily tried to get more of each other’s mouths, Jamie’s hands planted firmly on the underside of your thighs, lifting you up against him. Your legs instantly wrapped around his waist as he spun around, sitting you down on his desk, never once breaking contact. He slid the blazer off over his shoulders, tossing it on to his chair behind the desk. You didn’t know he had tattoos. He had always worn blazers or long sleeve button ups. It was a welcomed surprise, you always had a weak spot for tattoos.

You pulled back from him, allowing you both to catch your breath. “You wanna fuck me right here on your desk?” You asked playfully.

“I’ve wanted to fuck you on this desk from day one.” He smirked, placing another kiss on your cheek before turning away.

He slipped over to the door, twisting the lock with a click. You were already so wet with anticipation, but you were still relatively new to sex, and suddenly felt a pang of apprehension creep in. You weren’t a virgin, but you weren’t exactly experienced. Aside from a less than notable prom night at a motel, you hadn’t seen much action. But this was a man, a probably very experienced man, and you were worried about impressing him.

Turning back from the door, he paused just for a moment, taking note of your changed body language. “Hey, you okay? You know, we can stop here if you want.” He walked back to you, standing between your legs, placing a hand on your outer thigh.

“No, no I’m fine. I want this. I want you…I just…I’ve only had sex once.” You looked away, embarrassed.

Jamie chuckled. “Oh, darling…” He cooed as he brought his hand to your cheek. “You can trust me. I can go as easy as you want.” His gentle care turned you on even more.

You brought your hand to his on your cheek and pulled it down, pressing it to your aching heat between your thighs, looking up at him with glassy eyes. “What if…I don’t want you to go easy.” You whispered. “How about you teach me something new, professor…”

His eyes went from where you placed his hand, and back up to your eyes. “Shit…you’re so wet.” He breathed; you felt his fingers lightly moving against your clothed cunt. “You sure you want this?”

“Mhm...god, I want you.” You nodded, staring at his lips, hoping his fingers would find their way under the barrier separating them from where you needed them.

Jamie crashed his lips into yours, as you clamored your hands over his shoulders and arms, hoping to pull him closer. His hand remained between your legs, teasing you with pressure that just wasn’t enough. You brought one hand down to his emerging bulge, caressing him through his jeans. A soft moan came from his throat as he rocked his hips slightly, before pulling away from you and taking your hand off of him. You looked confused.

“No, no. Your hands stay above both our waists, got it? Now, lie back.” He smirked.

You did as he said, slowly lowering yourself back on to the desk, keeping eye contact with Jamie. He remained between your legs, a hand on either thigh. He slowly pushed his hands up toward your hips, bringing the bottom hem of your dress up with them, exposing your light blue panties that were splotched with your excitement. He smiled to himself seeing how turned on you were for him. He glanced up at you, just scanning one more time for any sense of hesitation, before hooking his fingers around the band of them, and sliding them down your legs.

He tucked them into his back pocket, bending over you, meeting your lips again. He nipped at your bottom lip, as he reached back down, tracing a finger lightly over your slit. Your hips bucked upward, begging for more stimulation. Jamie smirked against your lips as he took his finger to your clit and began tracing tight circles. He moved his lips from yours down to your neck, biting and suckling, no doubt leaving marks that would take a few days to fade. You squirmed under his touch, aching for even more.

“Professor Bower…” you moaned.

“Call me Jamie, love.” He said against your neck.

“Jaaamiee…” You moaned again.

“Fuck, I love the sound of that.” He groaned, removing his finger from your bundle of nerves, a whimper leaving your mouth at the loss of contact.

He pushed you slightly backward, giving him the right angle now to place a delicate kiss on your thigh. He smirked up at you briefly before then moving planting his mouth on to your eager cunt. His tongue worked euphoric circles on your clit, not wasting any time also plunging a finger inside you. You gasped, grinding your hips down into his face, tensing yourself, your hands automatically tangling themselves up in his hair. Suddenly, he stopped.

“Hey. What did I say? Hands above the waist, or I won’t touch you anymore.” He said sharply.

“But…it feels so good…I can’t.” You say, catching your breath.

“Well then I guess we’re done here.” He started to stand up.

“No! Please…please keep touching me. I’ll be good.” You bit your lip.

Jamie smiled devilishly as he sank back down to his position. “That’s my good girl.”

He returned to working on you with his tongue, pumping in and out with his finger. You tried to stifle your increasing moans, not wanting to draw attention to yourselves. Jamie moaned into your pulsating heat, causing vibration, and sending shockwaves through your core. You gripped the edges of the desk, trying to follow Jamie’s rule, writhing under him. You bucked your hips up as he slipped in a second finger, pumping rhythmically as he swirled his tongue.

“Shit…shit I-..” You breathed.

“You’re doing so well, baby. That’s it. I’ve got you.” Jamie pressed a hand to your lower abdomen, increasing the growing pressure in your belly.

Without thinking, you grabbed his hand, gripping it tightly as you squirmed, feeling your release building. He smiled against you at this innocent and intimate gesture, intertwining his fingers with yours, still suckling your sensitive bud. He curled his fingers upward inside you in a beckoning motion.

“Jamie, fuck, I-…I’m gonna…”

"Yes, love. Go on, cum for me. Cum just for me." Jamie kissed and nibbled on your inner thigh.

You felt your orgasm crash over you. Your legs quivered as your head fell back in ecstasy. He caressed your hand in his with his thumb as he kept rubbing your clit with his other, helping you ride out your high. He came back up to your lips as you came down in a haze, tasting yourself as he kissed you.

“You still with me, love?” He asked chuckling, pulling you to sit upward again.

“Yeah…no one’s ever gone down on me before. You’ve set the bar really high, though.” You panted, buzzing all over.

“Good.” He smirked, leaning into kiss you again.

You couldn’t wait any longer, you needed him. All of him. Right then. You brought your hands up to his belt, eagerly undoing it as he smiled against your lips. He assisted in removing the belt and pushing his jeans down, his cock springing out over the band of his boxers as he pulled them down. He spit into his hand and wrapped around his cock, stroking himself a few times as he stared at you, taking you all in with his eyes before he had his way.

"I need you...I need you right now, Jamie. Please." The words poured out of your mouth, dripping in lust.

Jamie chuckled. "So desperate for me...you're so good for me."

He lined himself up with your waiting cunt, still seated on the edge of the desk. Slowly, he pushed himself in. Your breath hitching as his width stretched your walls, and he let out a moan as he bottomed out. He kissed and bit at your lips as he paused a moment for you to adjust to him, before starting an even and pace of slow, deep thrusting.

“God, I’ve thought of this while I’ve fucked my hand so many times…shit. You feel so good around me, baby.” He said in a gruff voice before burying his face into your neck, his teeth looking to leave more bruises.

“Me too.” You whispered. “Mmm, fuck me, Jamie.”

“Mmm, say that again, love. Say my fucking name.” He groaned, thrusting deeper.

“Mmmm, oh god, please fuck me, Jamie.” You moaned into his ear, your hands sliding through his hair, gripping his blonde hair tight as your eyes closed.

In a swift motion, Jamie pushed you down on your back again, pulling your legs up into his arms. His pace quickened, thrusting hard and fast into you from this angle. With your legs open and held up like this, he was hitting exactly where you needed it. He was fucking you like he wanted you to never forget it, and you knew you never would; you could never after this.

“You’re my fucking girl.” He grunted. “Say it.” He delivered a hard smack to the side of your ass cheek, with your legs still on either side of him. You let out a yelp as his large hand made contact with your soft skin.

“I’m your girl.” You panted. “I’m your girl, Jamie.”

He continued pounding into you. Both of you had long since given up trying to stifle yourselves. You reached down to your clit, circling it with your fingers, looking Jamie directly in the eye. He smiled wickedly with a chuckle as he watched you touch yourself while he fucked you. You felt him twitch inside you, being driven wild at the sight before him.

“Fuck, baby...that’s so sexy…I don’t think I can last much longer.” He gripped your thighs tight in his hands. “Where do you want it?” He asked.

“Inside.” You moaned. “I have an IUD. I want to feel you cum in me.” You arched your back, feeling a second high approaching.

“Okay. Fuuuck. I-…I’m-“

He reached his released, throwing his head back with a string of expletives. You felt his warm, thick seed spill into you, sending you over the edge at the sensation. You clenched around his cock, your body quivering with pleasure. As you both came down from the euphoria, Jamie’s pumping stopped and he stayed still, not yet pulling out of you. He let your legs fall and pulled you back up towards him, his hand sliding up into your hair, while his other hand rested on the small of your back. He placed a delicate kiss on your lips, pulling back as your sweaty foreheads rested together while you both caught your breath.

“Well, I think you passed the exam.” Jamie chuckled.

You laughed. “I’ve always been a bit of a teacher’s pet, hm?”

He slowly pulled out of you, reaching over to a roll of paper towels kept near the whiteboard to help with cleanup of the mess you had both made of yourselves and the desk.

“So… I’m teaching a poetry class next semester.” Jamie began as you finished straightening yourselves and the room up. “If you’re interested in any further extracurricular activities...” He winked.

“You know, I just might switch to being an English major. I suddenly really love literature classes.”

#jamie campbell bower x reader #jamie bower x reader #jamie campbell bower smut #jamie bower smut #jamie campbell bower x y/n #jamie campbell bower imagine #jamie campbell bower fanfic #jamie bower fanfic

[hartz-penny]

idk where to post about this bc i kinda just need a void.

the last month i've been regularly talking to this guy, not just some random match off of hinge / bumble / tinder, but my instagram crush. he was a teacher from relatively close to me who ended up on my explore page and i thought he was really cute. i followed him two years ago, and despite a lil bit of delulu thinking he'd maybe find me cute and we would fall madly in love, i knew it would probably be just a one-sided thing.

couple of years ago, i replied to something he posted, we had a brief convo in DM, but went nowhere. i noticed around this time that he had a wedding ring on in videos so i really began to just erase the hope of any reciprocation.

i always really liked his content (it was all either really positive stuff or "millennial teacher" content) so every so often i'd reply to a story, again getting just a quick "thanks!" or smile back.

then a month ago (quite literally almost to the day), i replied to a story and we started having an actual conversation. then he seemed to start getting flirty, and i quickly checked any and all of his recent videos to see if that wedding ring was still in them, it didn't appear to be there anymore. so i flirted back. and we had a really nice long convo. i went to bed, hoping maybe he would venture into my DMs again.

the next day he did, and the next, and we continued to talk and get to know each other and flirt pretty much every day. he was really funny, we'd send goofy pictures, we'd get a little spicy with our convos.

from my insta snooping and having had followed him for 2 years, i knew he had a kid, and i hoped and assumed he'd bring it up when ready and necessary. he brought it up the 3rd day we were chatting. he was a "full time solo dad of two" (the two surprised me). while i'd spent most of the last year moving towards the "i don't want kids" side, i don't hate kids, we hadn't even gone on a date yet, and he had a lot of really, really great qualities, so despite his "i won't be offended if the kid thing scares you off" i said that it didn't. this did however make planning an eventual date trickier especially since we lived about an hour and a bit away from each other.

but we continued to chat every day, and he was refreshingly honest with me, very forthcoming that although he really liked some of our spicy conversations, he liked just chatting with me and getting to know me. it was so great, i was enjoying conversation in a way thats normally tricky when you've never met them in person, i was so excited to see where this would go, even though i didn't know when that first date would happen.

then this week got a little weird. we chatted as normal monday morning / afternoon, and then monday evening my message stayed at "sent" for way longer than normal, i figured "oh he's probably dealing with kid stuff like the other night", tuesday comes, i send a meme, a goofy picture when i'm at work, it stays at "sent" vs. "seen". i start checking if he unfollowed me and he hadn't, he viewed my story when i posted those, but i was still like "weird, but again, he's probably just busy". finally last night he replied (his kid was sick) and i felt so much better. we sent goofy pictures back and forth, and we ended the convo completely normally.

then this morning, i open insta and i'm on my profile, and i notice my follower count had dropped and it was just one of those "i know" moments. he hadn't just unfollowed me, i was blocked.

literally as recent as sunday he was telling me how he wants to just sit on the couch and watch a reality show that i like with me, that he wants to figure out how we'd tell my parents that he has kids, and then this.

i'm just so confused, and so hurt, and i once again feel like i will always be the one duped by guys, even when its someone who on paper, very much doesn't seem like the type.

#anyways i'm probably going to die alone

[ttuesday]

Time

Summary: After spending the night on guard duty, you make a bet with Micah to find out who can stay awake the longest.

Word Count: 2,772 

~unfortunately there’s no smut in this, it’s mainly fluff and maybe a bit of angst ? idk lmao~

8am You spent the entire night on guard duty. Bill was supposed to take over a couple of hours ago but he never did. It didn’t take long for you to realize he was after sleeping in, preferring to stay wrapped up in his warm bedroll instead of coming out to relieve you from duty. 

Finally about two goddamn hours after sunrise, John came out and offered to go on guard, mentioning to you that Bill had woken up about twenty minutes ago but decided that avoiding you was better than owning up to his mistake. 

You walked into camp and scanned the area, trying to find Bill so you could confront him. Dutch sat outside his tent, reading a book. A frustrated Arthur was playing dominoes with Tilly. And Micah sat at one of the tables, cleaning his revolvers. It seemed as though everyone was around except for Bill.

“Mic, have you seen Bill this morning?” you asked as you walked up to Micah. The man scoffed “How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?”. “But it’s your name” you replied. “That ain’t my name” he snapped back, glaring at you. “But your name’s Mic-ah” you sounded it out as if you were teaching Jack a new word.

Micah rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath but he stopped when he noticed you yawn. “Awh, you all tired out from being out on watch?” he mocked. “I’m not tired” you answered bluntly.

“Sure you ain’t” Micah replied sarcastically.

The truth was you did feel a bit drained. You had just spent the whole night on guard duty, of course you were kinda tired but you weren’t going to admit that to him.

You and Micah always had a strange friendship. Half the time you were both arguing with one another, hurling insults at each other and bickering over anything and everything. But then a few hours later you would both be sitting at one of the tables, laughing together as if you were the best of friends. It was strange but it worked.

“Seriously, I’m not tired” you reinforced, knowing he didn't believe you the first time you said it “you’d be surprised how long I can stay awake”. “Is that so?” he questioned, focusing his attention on cleaning his revolvers again. A small smirk tugged at your lips “Yeah, I mean I could definitely stay awake longer than you. That wouldn’t even be a challenge”.

Why were you saying this? Well, you had only one reason. You wanted to annoy him.

Micah chuckled “Now you’re just lying to yourself”. “Or you’re underestimating me” you corrected him. You knew there was no way Micah could go longer without sleep than you. Sure, you spent the night awake but from the dark circles under Micah’s eyes, it was obvious he had a couple of restless nights recently. 

“I’d even make a bet that I could stay awake longer than you” you smirked. Micah let out a loud, arrogant laugh as he looked at you again “That’s real funny”. 

“What? You scared I’ll win?” you continued to annoy him. 

“There ain’t no way in hell you’d win” he furrowed his brow.

“You wanna bet on that?” you asked. Micah considered it for a couple of seconds, his gaze momentarily flicking down to his guns before looking at you “Fine, but don’t expect me to let you win”.

Out the corner of your eye, you saw Bill cautiously step into camp. “There he is” you muttered to yourself. Bill hesitantly glanced around, presumably trying to see where you were so he could avoid you. “Williamson!” you called, getting his attention. Bill looked at you with wide eyes before turning on his heels and walking in the opposite direction.

You started to walk after him, not about to let him get away that easily. “Hey, get back here!” you yelled. Micah chuckled as you jogged after Bill. He was confident that you would fall asleep first, especially since you just got off guard duty. There was no way you’d win this bet, Micah was sure of it.

12:30pm You sat under a tree, listening to the gentle midday breeze make its way through the branches overhead. You had been reading a book Mary-Beth recommended to you but put it down on your lap, the warm summer’s day starting to make you feel drowsy. 

“You asleep yet?” Micah suddenly appeared. You quickly opened your eyes and blinked a few times to try and quickly wake yourself up. “You know I’m not sleeping until you do” you reminded him. “You weren’t being serious about that, were you?” he questioned.

“Of course I was”.

“Huh, well you’re gonna be waiting a while,” he replied, only now starting to realize you were being deadly serious about this bet “I don’t plan on losing an easy bet”.

He leaned against the tree, taking out a pack of cigarettes and putting one between his lips. “How was your talk with Williamson?” he asked, putting the packet back into his pocket and taking out a match. “It was fine, he said he’ll do my next shift on guard duty to make it up to me. Actually, when was the last time you went on duty?” you gazed up at him.

You couldn’t remember the last time you saw Micah out there on guard. In fact, you couldn’t remember a time he was ever on guard duty.

“Why would I waste my time doing that?” Micah sneered, lifting his boot and striking the match off of it. You sighed, picking up your book again and flicking through to the page you stopped at “You can be so grumpy when you’re tired”.

“I ain’t tired” he grunted. You laughed softly, making Micah huff. “Sleep’s overrated” he said with a new found determination “and I will win this bet, make no mistake about that”. Micah stormed off, mumbling what you presumed where insults under his breath.

You admired how seriously he was starting to take the bet but you knew he wouldn’t last. Sure, you had been awake for many, many hours at this point and you were tired but Micah could’ve been awake for days by now. He never was keen on sleep and that’s what made you think this was going to be an easy bet to win. Even if you didn’t win, maybe this would encourage Micah to sleep and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, that would be a good thing too.

4pm You were helping Pearson with dinner. Normally you didn’t but he had a fight with Sadie earlier in the day so you decided to step in and give her a break. You chopped the vegetables, humming a tune to yourself.

“Well, well, well, what’re you doing?” a voice asked from behind you. You didn’t bother turning around. Micah always had a distinct voice you could recognize immediately. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?” you replied with a hint of sarcasm in your voice.

You expected him to move around the table and into your line of sight but instead Micah peered over your shoulder, slyly placing his hand on your hip as he did. “Hmmm” was all he said as he looked down at the vegetables. You expected him to move but he stayed where he was, his chest pressing against your back and his hand subconsciously kneading your hip.

A strong scent suddenly hit your nostrils and you couldn’t help but scrunch up your nose. “Have you been drinking?” you turned your head towards him. Micah also turned his head to look at you properly, his lips curving upwards and into a smirk. “Maybe” he grinned.

You could smell the whiskey every time his hot breath hit your face. You hadn’t realized how close his face was to yours until his eyes momentarily flicked down to your lips.

It caught you by surprise, your nose nearly bumping against his. Micah didn't expect your faces to be so close either, his mouth staying slightly open though he stayed quiet. You’ve heard the phrase ‘getting lost in someone’s eyes’ but you didn’t think it was actually real. Yet there you were, unable to stop gazing into his blue eyes, as if there was a magnetic pull to him.

You had to remind yourself that you were in the middle of camp with other people nearby. You cleared your throat, tearing your eyes away from his. Micah snapped back to reality too, taking his hand off your hip and stepping away from you. 

He moved over to the other side of the table, resting his weight against it. “You, uh... you wanna have a drink with me?” he asked, glancing around to see if anyone else was nearby. You focused your attention on chopping the vegetables “I can’t, Pearson has about ten other things he needs me to do”.

Micah rolled his eyes “You know, if you keep helping ‘em all the damn time then they’ll start treating you like a workhorse”.

You laughed “As if you know anything about working and pulling your weight around camp”.

“Just tryna look out for ya,” he mumbled “you’ll thank me one day”.

“I’m sure I will,” you replied, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in your voice ”now shoo, you’re distracting me”. You scooped up the vegetables in your hands and turned your back to Micah, walking over to dump them into the pot of stew.

Micah let out a forced chuckle before he picked up a bottle of beer and made his way over to the campfire. A smirk spread across your face as you watched Micah gulp down his beer. Maybe this would be a good thing. If Micah was drinking alcohol then surely it'd make him tired fast. In a way, he was unknowingly sabotaging his chances of winning. You nodded to yourself as you got back to work, confident that you’d win.

10:35pm Your mind was in a cycle. Within an hour you’d go from feeling completely fine to absolutely exhausted. You had spent the last ten minutes in a daze, staring at the campfire with drooped eyelids. Out of all the days to make a bet with Micah to see who could stay awake longer, why did it have to be the day after your night shift? Micah sat at one of the tables, sipping on yet another beer. He looked normal… well, whatever normal is for Micah. Basically, he didn’t look tired.

“And that’s why you should never trust people that swim in the same water they fish in” announced Sean. You snapped out of your daze, raising your eyebrows as you looked at him. “What?” you asked, completely baffled by his statement. 

Sean tilted his head “Wha- have you been listening to me? I’m trying to teach you some very valuable life lessons here”.

“Yes, yes, thank you” you nodded your head, still confused but deciding to act as though you knew what the hell he was on about “that was, uh… quite something”. 

A proud smile spread across Sean’s face as he stood “See, I knew you’d find that helpful”. He lifted his arms up as he stretched. “That’s me done for the night,” he let out a big yawn “I’m robbing a stage tomorrow so I need my wits about me”. You tried not to yawn too, clenching your jaw. “Good luck with that” you replied, a small yawn managing to escape. 

With Sean heading off to bed, you realized that there weren’t a lot of people still awake. Micah got up and walked over to the beer crate, picking up another full bottle. You got up and followed him over.

“I told you, this is bet is going to go on for a while” he said, knowing it was you who was approaching. “I know,” you replied “but I don’t plan on giving up anytime soon”.

“You want a beer now?” he offered, lifting up another bottle. You thought about it for a few seconds “Nah, it’ll only make me sleepy”. “You sure?” he waved the bottle slightly “just one drink?”.

You knew Micah was already after having a plentiful amount of drink so no matter how sleepy the alcohol made you feel, it would have the same effects on him but sooner. “Ok,” you took the beer “but just one”.

2:23am You told yourself you were only going to have one beer and you meant that, you really did. But you were having a good time, so one beer turned to two beers, and then three, and then four. 

You weren’t sure what number you were on now but the good news is that you weren’t feeling tired. You were definitely drunk but not tired.

At some point, you both decided to go for a walk along the outskirts of camp. You knew Micah must’ve felt sleepy since he was the one who suggested it, presumably to try and keep himself awake. The two of you strolled through the woods, chatting and laughing until eventually you decided to sit down by a tree. Micah sat down next to you, putting his arm around your shoulders without a second thought to the action.

He was warm and surprisingly comfortable as you shuffled closer to him. You could stay there forever. You’re breathing started to slow as each blink seemed to last longer. 

“So what do you want if you win this bet?” Micah asked, a relaxed smile on his face. You blinked again, this time keeping your eyes closed “Haven’t decided yet. Why, how much do you want if you win?”. You presumed Micah wanted cash if he won.

“I, um… I wasn’t going to ask for money” he revealed, his breathing getting heavier.

“What were you going to ask for?" you asked.

He hesitated, debating whether to say it or not. “I dunno…” he stalled “maybe, uh…”.

You waited patiently, too relaxed to care about how long it would take him to say it. “Maybe something like a… a kiss” he said shyly before he immediately began to backtrack “but money sound’s good".

“You… you wanted a kiss?” you opened your eyes and sat up straight to look at him. For once, Micah actually looked nervous. The flirtatious, confident front he usually portrays had completely vanished. He wasn’t sure what to say. Slowly, a smile spread across your face. “Yeah, that could be arranged” you giggled.

Micah nodded, a goofy smile on his face. You settled against Micah again, resting your head by his chest. You could hear his heart rapidly beating. “but you gotta win to get your reward” you reminded him. He chuckled, holding you close to him “And I intend to”.

“I have to admit, I thought I would’ve won this by now” you sighed, closing your eyes again. “That's not gonna happen” Micah muttered, resting his head on top of yours.

You hated how your mind wandered into thinking that this is what life would be like if you were dating Micah. You liked being this close to him, feeling his warmth and finding his breathing relaxing. Micah was an awful man yet for some reason, you found comfort in him.

You could feel yourself drifting off to sleep, finding it harder and harder to open your eyes. Just as you were about to give in to the exhaustion, you heard a noise.

It sounded like a snort and it came from the man next to you.

You opened your eyes and blinked a few times, trying to get your brain to work. Trying your best not to disturb Micah, you moved your head up to look at him. A massive smile spread across your face as you realized Micah had drifted off to sleep.

You couldn’t believe it, he was actually sleeping. He let out another snort as he nuzzled his head closer to yours. You wanted to get up and celebrate but you also didn’t want to wake him up.

You knew in the morning he was going to argue that he didn’t fall asleep. There was no way he was going to admit that you won the bet. You wondered what you’d get for winning. A part of you wanted to ask him to buy you a drink at the saloon in town, or pay for dinner for the both of you. Either way, you had won and there was no way you were going to let him forget about this for a long, long time.

#this has been in my drafts for about a month #idk if I like it but I’m just gonna put it out there anyway lol #micah bell x reader #micah bell x you #writings #micah bell

[superbabetotherescue]

Thanks, Brucie-Bruce Wayne x Reader

Word Count: 1840

Summary: You reminisce on your childhood with your best friend

Warnings: some violence, none really described in detail except reader getting punched in the face (as an alternative to getting teeth pulled), do teeth need their own warning bc they might, probably swearing but idk, kinda sad but don’t worry it’s fluffy, Bruce is a lil bitch but isn’t that kinda par for the course?

A/N: Once again this is just an old oneshot I have that I like a weird amount for no reason. You can read it as platonic or romantic it’s up to you idk but I’m lowkey thinking of making it into a series as platonic best friends so idk. I mean you’re reading it if you want it to be romantic that’s fine lmao I don’t care

Growing up one of Gotham’s elite may be a charmed life, but that didn’t mean that it was without its faults. You had spent your time being ignored by your parents, and your best friend, Bruce Wayne, became an orphan during a back alley robbery when the two of you were kids.

Or at least, former best friend.

In truth, you hadn’t seen Bruce in a while.

Well, you saw him constantly on the news and in the papers and just existing in Gotham in general, but you never got to see him face to face anymore.

Not for lack of trying, either. You sat down one night, the fifth time that Bruce had blown you off to meet for dinner in the past month, and pulled out your old photo album.

There was your fifth birthday party, a year or two after you had met Bruce in mega rich kid preschool, and there the two of you were, sharing a chair and staring at your huge birthday cake.

And the next picture, your favorite, the two of you covered in said birthday cake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Brucie,” You had cried,  whispering to him frantically, “Brucie, I got frosting on my dress!”

You were wearing a frilly pink dress that your mother had forced upon you, and in a moment of excitement you had leaned forward a little too far, and now the pale buttercream frosting covered your bodice.

“Uh oh,” Bruce breathed out slowly, adjusting his tie, pink to match your dress, and looking down at his own tiny three piece suit.

You were panicking, breathing heavily, “My mom is gonna be so mad!”

With a quick tug to your pigtails, Bruce shook his head, “I got this, Y/N.”

He reached forward and scooped a large chunk of the cake out, turning to you and smashing it against your chest quickly.

“Ah!” You jumped backwards, “Bruce!”

“Come on, hit me back,” Bruce hissed, grabbing another handful of cake and smushing it into your face.

As his plan dawned on you, you nodded, getting your own chunk of cake and throwing it at him, laughing delightedly as it landed in his hair.

“Bruce!” Mrs. Wayne scolded, running forward and crouching next to her son, who was currently trying to wrestle you, “You’re such a mess. Ms. Y/L/N, I’m so sorry for my son’s behavior!”

Your mother merely shook her head, smiling pleasantly, “Oh please, don’t worry about it, Martha. Those two are always getting into trouble.”

Victory!

You leaned over to your best friend with a wide grin, wrapping him in a tight hug, “Thanks, Brucie!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Flipping a few pages, you chuckled at what you saw.

Your face and Bruce’s fist matching in bloodiness, and a huge gap where your teeth were missing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were twelve years old, and you had five loose teeth. Your last five baby teeth. All in a row next to each other.

And, like most twelve year olds, you had a healthy fear of the dentist.

“They want me to go to the dentist tomorrow to get the teeth pulled!” You complained to Bruce, the two of you laying in his living room under the guise of studying.

He shrugged, “You just have to get them out before the dentist, right? Just keep wiggling.”

“I’ve been wiggling!” You sat up, shaking your head, “It’s not working. I need a new approach.  Maybe Alfred can make something sticky for me to eat and the teeth will get stuck in it. Like that toffee your-”

You froze, not looking at Bruce anymore.

His hand touched yours gently, and you turned to see a small, sad smile on his face, “Like the toffee my father used to make at Christmas? That would be good. But Alfred’s working on something, I think.”

Nodding, you hmm’d quietly to yourself for a moment, “I just don’t know what to do. I can’t let the dentist pull my teeth. I just can’t do it, Brucie.”

“Don’t call me Brucie,” He scowled, but you knew he didn’t really care.

You sat in comfortable silence for a while, pushing your teeth back and forth with your tongue as the two of you thought.

“I have an idea,” Bruce stood, extending his hand out to you, “But it’s a little unorthodox.”

If he hadn’t been offering to help you, you would’ve rolled your eyes at the way he spoke.

You rose next to him, nodding, “Anything! Anything that keeps me out of the dentist’s chair.”

He took a breath, deep, slow, thoughtful. His hand reached out towards your face, thumb stroking your lips, palm cupping your jaw and cheek.

What was he doing?

And then he reared his fist back, and punched you in the face.

It hurt, that was for certain, but it was well concentrated in one place, and you coughed as you choked on the teeth, spitting them into your hand.

“There’s only four,” You frowned, counting them quickly.

“Sorry about that, Y/N,” He held his fist back out, and you saw the fifth tooth embedded in his knuckle, “You can have it back.”

With a chuckle you plucked the tooth out and pulled him into a hug, “Thanks, Brucie!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alfred had a field day with that one, you remembered, but it was still better than going to the dentist.

With a few more flicks of pages, you felt your heart catch in your throat.

Prom night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

5:30.

Your date was supposed to come meet you at Wayne Manor at 5:30 so that you could go out with Bruce and his pretty blonde arm candy.

And now it was 6:45, and he still wasn’t there.

You’d been pacing the parlor of the Manor for two hours. Bruce and his date kept disappearing to make out in various rooms, and Alfred had stopped standing at the front door and had instead begun to busy himself in the kitchen.

And you were crying.

“Shit,” You hissed, wiping a tiny smear of eyeliner out from under your eye.

You weren’t going to cry over him. Especially not after you’d spent three hours on your makeup. You couldn’t do it.

“I don’t understand why we can’t just leave her,” You heard The Blonde complain to Bruce in the next room over, “She’s totally bringing down the mood.”

“Hey, back off,” Bruce sighed, “She’s my best friend. I’m not leaving her all alone on prom night. Maybe she can just come out with us.“

“I’m not spending my prom night with some loser who got stood up by her own date.”

You bit your lip, swallowing back a sob and then speaking loudly enough for them to know they were meant to hear you, “Hey, Bruce? I think I’m just gonna go, okay? Sorry for holding you guys up.”

“Wait,” Bruce opened the door to the closet he and his date were in, running a hand through his hair, “Y/N, don’t go.”

The Blonde gasped indignantly, and you shook your head, “No, seriously Bruce, don’t worry about it. I’m just-”

“Don’t leave, Y/N,” He said again, and the solidness of his words, the complete authority in how he said it, was enough to freeze you, “I’m taking you to prom. You can’t leave me.”

What?

“What?” The Blonde shrieked, stomping her heel on the ground, “You’re not taking her, you’re taking me!”

Bruce gave her a rather pleasant smile, “Actually, I’m not. I think you’re a stone cold bitch and if I look at you for any longer than fifteen more seconds, I think I’ll vomit. Now get out of my house,” And with that, waving a dismissive hand at her, he turned to you and grinned, “Now, Miss Y/N Y/L/N, would you do me the honor of being my date to prom?”

A burst of energy running through you, you sprang forward and wrapped him up in a hug, “Absolutely. Thanks, Brucie.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Closing your photo album, you sighed.

It felt like just yesterday in so many ways, and yet a million years ago.

What had happened between you two? What had you done to drive him away? Maybe a walk would clear your head.

You grabbed your keys and left, walking the streets of Gotham and thinking of your younger days.

There was a playground where you and Bruce would sometimes sneak off to play, halfway between both of your houses. It was where you had taught him how to throw a punch when you were six, where he had taught you how to cartwheel when you were eight, and where you two had shared your first kiss when you were ten.

You laughed at that memory too, wishing you had a picture in your album of that day, when the two of you had decided to be each other’s first kiss just so you’d know what you were getting yourselves into.

You’d sat on top of the monkey bars, staring into each other’s eyes as you came to your solemn decision, and leaned forward to give each other the briefest of pecks on the lips. And then you’d both fallen off the monkey bars, wiping your mouths and gagging dramatically.

Standing by those monkey bars, you ran your hands down the side with a smile.

And then you felt the cold barrel of a gun press into the back of your neck.

“Give me all your money, and get on your knees,” A dark voice growled.

Crap.

How could you let yourself be taken completely by surprise, in Gotham of all places?

Shaking, you tried to speak, your voice catching in your throat, “I… I don’t…”

“Hey!” A familiar voice sounded through the air, cutting you off, “Back off!”

You felt the  rounded metal leave your skin and let out a sigh of relief.

Spinning on your heel, you watched as your attacker, a large man with a ski mask pulled over his face, so cliche, got the crap beaten out of him by…

“Batman?” You gasped.

Of course!

Batman wrapped an arm around you, scoffing at the thug on the ground, and shot a grappling hook into the air.

As you felt yourself fly your head spun, trying to wrap your mind around everything.

So this was why he kept standing you up. Why he always came up with some flimsy excuse. He couldn’t just tell you he was the Batman, and besides, the mystery of it all was surely an ego thing for him.

You landed outside your house a moment later, the dark suit encompassing Batman just intimidating enough for you to almost take a step back as he rumbled, “You should be more careful. Especially at night.”

But you couldn’t take his warning seriously.

Your best friend wasn’t avoiding you, he didn’t hate you, he just had a secret!

You were too ecstatic to pay his advice any mind.

And so you simply wrapped him in a hug, your arms erupting into goosebumps against the cold armor that he wore, “Thanks, Brucie.”

#Super Babe Original Content #super babe: fanfic #Bruce Wayne x reader #batman x reader #batman #Bruce wayne #Dc #batfamily #dcu #Dc fanfiction #batfamily fanfic #Once again this is just an old oneshot that I like more than I should lmao #Obligatory mobile apologies #And tag apologies #Idk what I’m doing with my life but ig this is happening so #Yeah #idk man #idk

[mrwinterr]

Die Happy

Pairing: Ghost!Bucky Barnes AU x Female Reader; tiny hint of Sam Wilson x Female Reader

Summary: You summon a really friendly ghost.

Warnings: Smut 18+ (consensual vibes all around, masturbation, vaginal fingering, oral [female receiving]) and language. Dabbling into the occult (use of a Ouija board).

Disclaimer: I’m a spooky bitch, I like how Ouija boards look like, but I would NEVER mess with them.

Title Inspiration: “Die Happy” by Dreamers  

A/N: I was on Reddit and I stumbled across an erotic audio that inspired this, so I definitely owe it to them. I’ve just been dying to write a ghost AU. I decided to hold back on the smut on this for now and maybe save it for later. This can be turned into a series, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself. Idk. You tell me! Enjoy!

It’s here.

It’s finally here. The package that would help you find the answers you were so desperately looking for was finally here.

Package in hands, there’s a skip to your steps as you happily make your way back into the living room of your somewhat new home. You had moved in almost six months ago, but it still felt so surreal. You, a homeowner. All those years of saving up and house hunting - you finally did one of the most adult things you could do in your life.

The small house had been in the neighborhood for decades and owned by plenty before you, in fact, too plenty, but for a home in Brooklyn, New York it was surprisingly affordable. You’re still patting yourself on the back for how you managed to score this place at such a bargain price.

It was the ideal place, really; surrounded by friendly neighbors and with a great home association. It was at a reasonable distance from your workplace and the city. Furthermore, cosmetically, it was your dream home. You never took a second to ask why someone would quickly put this home back on the market...until recently.

The realtor had assured you that everything in the house was functioning properly before you signed away. There was little to no refurbishing on your end, which was part of the dealbreaker, but now you can’t help to wonder if the realtor was duping you. A young, pretty woman and a first-time homeowner? That was easy bait for them, right? There had to be a catch or information that they were withholding and well, you weren’t about to wait any longer to find out.

Lately, strange things had been happening and while at first you brushed them off as mere coincidences, they were becoming almost too outstanding to ignore.

First, it was the air conditioning unit acting all wonky. You kept the house at a reasonable and comfortable temperature, but you found yourself often sporting hoodies even during the warmer seasons. The technicians couldn’t find a single problem with it and besides whenever you scheduled a visit for inspection, it was magically working just fine. Never mind the breeze that blew past you here and there…

Next, much like the AC unit, the electricity started to have a mind of its own. Before you could flip the light switch or press the button on your remote, it was always one step ahead of you. It was almost like you were living in a smart house, but instead of acting on voice command, it read your mind.

Not to mention, things disappeared and reappeared every now and then. Small things like the morning paper would vanish from the coffee table and if you couldn’t locate where you last left your keys, you never searched too far.

Then the eeriest one of them all was the unexplained smell. There was a distinct yet alluring scent that would waft by when you felt that breeze pass over. You had deduced that it wasn’t any like of your fragrance collection nor was it from the only friend that visited you. It was a pleasant odor and almost calming to you.  

You didn’t want to believe it, but these weren’t just common occurrences - these were tall tale signs of a haunting. The spirit wasn’t vengeful, that much you gathered since it didn’t make attempts to harm you in any way. Sure you could just either ignore these oddities or relist the home, the latter which wasn’t in your favor because it wasn’t that simple. Instead, curiosity won the best of you and you opted to take matters into your own hands.

Literally.

“Whoa!” You hear your close friend Sam Wilson exclaim and watch as he scoots to the other end of the couch as far away as he could when you pull the Ouija board out from the box. “Shit, girl. I knew you liked Halloween, but I didn’t think you were that spooky!” He said, his eyes bugging out in disbelief that you’d ordered such a thing.

You roll your eyes at him and place the board on the coffee table. He immediately gets up from his spot and sets what he deems is a safe distance from it as if the object was cursed. You’re not deterred by the Ouija board at all. It had quite the opposite effect because you were all too fascinated with the supernatural.

“You really shouldn’t mess with that kind of stuff,” Sam warns as you handle the remaining piece, the planchette.

“I don’t know why you’re so scared,” you respond, blowing him off and kicking away the now empty box.

“And you’re not?!” He says incredulously, “trying to speak to the dead is not right!” Well, it certainly wasn’t normal, but so weren’t the things that were happening in your home lately.

“I need to find answers, Sam!” You bite back, the volume of your voice matching his. You didn’t miss the hint his exclamations gave off and it bothered you. “What do you expect me to do? Continue living like this? I’m not in control of my own home.”

Oh, he knew. He was your closest friend and you trusted him enough to share your theories about your home and the experiences in it.

“You really think this place is haunted.” It comes off as more of a statement because he can see you’ve clearly made up your mind on how you’re going to prove the theory.

“Why do you think I can’t have Sarge or any pets over?” You absolutely adored Sam’s dog Sarge, but he made it apparent that he didn’t like something about or in your house.

Before Sam could try and spit out an explanation you’ve already heard, you stopped him, “I’m not going crazy! And I certainly am not going to spend another fee on having a technician tell me there’s nothing wrong with the units again.”

“Look. Why don’t you just come spend the night at my place and we can think of another way to approach this?” He offered and you knew that offer all too well. It had always been on the table. When you decided to move to Brooklyn and were looking for your own place, Sam had offered you a room, but you were hellbent on making it on your own. You were proud and independent...and weren’t sure about taking the next step with him.

Sam was everything your past lovers weren’t and you while you both weren’t official, a couple of dates happened here and there, something was holding you back. You cherished his friendship so much and a part of you feared finding out what it could be that you weren’t willing to jeopardize what you two already had if anything more came out of it and then failed miserably. He made it clear how he felt about you, but you brushed it off casually each time. Sam knew you simply weren’t ready.

“Thanks, but I’ll be okay.” You reply, breaking away from seeing the look of concern on his face and back to the planchette your hands were fidgeting with. You knew he was a skeptic on these kinds of things and only worried for your safety.

The nights he had spent here nothing strange ever happened. It’s like these occurrences were only happening about you. Sam wasn’t sure if he believed in ghosts or not, and he deeply cared for you, but he wasn’t about to stick around and find out. He knew that you could be stubborn, but there was only so much he could do to change your mind from where he stood and he just hoped he hadn’t lost you yet.

The small crack of thunder in the sky indicated a storm was coming and you took that as a sign to convince Sam to leave for the day. You didn’t want to fight with him about this. The few times you did talk about a possible haunting were just humorous conversations to Sam, but you were always being serious. It was evident that you two were not on the same page.

“You should probably start heading home before the rain comes,” you advise, standing up to walk over to the front door, hoping it’d sway him, but he knew what you were doing. Sam wasn’t mad. He was always very patient with you.

He only nods in false agreement before following your lead. “I’m coming back first thing in the morning to check if you’re still alive though,” he jokes, before pulling you in for a hug and giving you a kiss to the side of your head. His words elicit a light chuckle from you, but is mostly muffled against his biceps, then you’re playfully shoving him out the door.

As soon as his car disappears from the end of the street, you jolt and head snaps quickly at a sudden crash from the kitchen. You make your way in that direction to find the mug gifted to you on your last birthday from Sam shattered in pieces all over the kitchen floor.

The last roar of thunder must’ve been a strong one or the elevation of the shelf had been slightly off or maybe the house didn’t like Sam…

You shook your head at that last silly thought from your mind and sighed preparing to clean up the mess. Once that was done, the gloomy weather quickly casted a blanket over the sky and with a remix of fast raindrops against the windows and pavement and the lag in thunder, you didn’t waste time on the mission.

What better time than now? It set the mood. Were you scared? You weren’t sure. You were already convinced you were living with a spirit. You didn’t ponder long enough to think about the aftermath. Was this all just a bunch of hocus pocus or pseudoscience? Would you get possessed by a demon or would he be like Casper?

The use of a Ouija board, especially by someone inexperienced as yourself, was highly not recommended and very much frowned upon during your upbringing. If only your parents could see you now...

The spirit in your home couldn’t be that bad though, right? If they wanted to possess you, they would’ve done so by now; unless they were just waiting for an invitation. Well, there was only one way to find out.

You dimmed the lights and lit a few candles around you. Was this insulting? You did some fair share of research, but most of what you knew about Ouija boards were credited to horror movies.

You take a deep breath and begin to summon your supposed roommate.

Bucky felt bad as he watched you clean up the mess he made in your kitchen. He knew you liked that mug, but he didn’t and he certainly didn’t like how Sam made you feel. Sam made you feel all sorts of things and Bucky knew that, which explained why Sam never experienced anything unusual in the house because Bucky didn’t like seeing you with him.  

He was aware of how silly it was. A ghost jealous of two living humans. He had his turn, but it was tragically cut short. He was so young. He left everything behind to fight a World War. There was a high chance he wouldn’t come back and he was sadly part of that statistic.

But why did his afterlife have to consist of seeing the most angelic living human being just waiting to fall in love with the perfect living man? He didn’t get a chance to live out that part of his life, so was he bitter? Yes. And especially outraged at any distress that was brought upon the current tenant of his old home.

Bucky wasn’t sure why he was able to roam around his old stomping ground over the last couple of decades. He tried his best to communicate with the previous owners but he always ended up scaring them off. When you moved in, if he wasn’t already dead, and you could’ve seen him, he just knew he would’ve been as pale as a well...ghost. He made sure to not send you running for the hills.

He tried to help you with everyday things, trying his best to be subtle. He didn’t even spy on you during private moments like in the shower or on those lonely, needy nights. He proved himself to be a ghostly gentleman.

He even tried to not eavesdrop on your conversations and almost always disappeared when guests were present, but he heard you raise your voice earlier at Sam. He wasn’t sure what you two were arguing about and sure it was petty on his part, but before he could summon enough energy to knock over the mug, Sam was already gone.

Bucky followed you back into the living room and watched as you lit the candles scattered around. He lightly smiled believing you were attempting to relax. If only seeing you in peace was enough to put him to rest - permanently - but when he sees you take a seat back on your couch his expression fell and he swore his heart would stop again if it could.

“Oh no,” he says as he watches you stare at the Ouija board on the table before you. Bucky starts pacing in front of you, his hands over his head. Anyone that set foot and stayed long enough knew this place was haunted, and he knew you weren’t stupid and besides he wasn’t as subtle as he’d like to have been lately.

“Is anyone here?” He hears you ask the first question. He looks over your direction and sees your eyes are closed with both hands on the planchette.

“Oh my God,” he barely whispers and realizes, “she’s really trying to talk to me.” He couldn’t believe you’d be so brave to risk such a thing and importantly willingly reaching out to him.

“Yes! I am! I’m here!” She can’t hear you, idiot. “Fuck, of course she can’t hear me.” Bucky argues with himself on what to do before he remembers how Ouija boards work.

He almost can’t believe it when he does it, but he’s able to delicately move your hands and slide the planchette over to the word ‘YES’.

Your eyes pop open and you gasp when you see that you got an answer. You're frozen and look up in front of you half expecting the spirit to show itself to you, but you don’t see anything.

At least that’s what you think. Unbeknownst to you, you’re staring right at Bucky or rather through him. His expression mirrors yours - complete and utter shock. He was never able to easily move or touch anything solid in years. The incident with the mug earlier, that kind of stuff usually required a lot of concentration and energy on his part. He’s also scared that he’s frightened you with that move, but at the same time excited that he’s successfully communicating with you.

You’re unsure if you should continue. You were half expecting this to be a bust, but it moved. It actually moved! While you were excited that this worked, the tiny voice in the back of your head had you considering that maybe you shouldn’t go any further, but who ever really listened to them? You blink a few times and refocus your attention on the task.

“What are you?” You ask.

“What am I?” Bucky repeats the question, “I’m dead.” Wait. He starts to spell the letters ‘D-E-A-D’ with your hands on the planchette. He compares the sight of the corners of your mouth lifting, amused at that response, of course he was dead, as to what angels must’ve felt like when they earned their wings. If anyone believed in that sort of stuff...either way he felt very blessed.

“You liked that one, didn’t you?” Bucky said more to himself with a big smile on his face. He loved this! It was like he was having a conversation with you. It was something he only ever dreamed of for the last six or so months.

A particular flash of lightning followed by a thunderous sound startles you and you breakaway from the Ouija board. You weren’t going to lie. You were still absolutely spooked out and decided that maybe that was enough contact with the dead for the day.

When your heartbeat finally returned to its normal pace, you got up and turned on the lights, made sure you blew all the candles out and turned in for the night. Before you left, Bucky watched you look around the room and bid goodnight to seemingly nothing, but he knew it was meant for someone - it was meant for him.

The days that followed, you were growing curiouser and curiouser that in your spare time, you started digging into how much can come out of the Ouija board, but first you needed to figure out who you were dealing with.

With as much access as you were granted, you found out about a man, who was around the same age as you, that had died during World War II and the hauntings that would start to occur after the first tenant took residence upon this home.

The house belonged to a man named James Buchanan Barnes, but signed it under the name Bucky. How cute. You thought to yourself over the nickname, then you saw an accompanying photo of who you assumed was living with you. It was in black and white and the quality wasn’t that up to par, but from what you could make out you could determine enough. Cute name for a cute guy.

You read the experiences of others that lived here before you and they all seemed harmless. They were just spooked and you didn’t blame them. They had every right to be scared, but you didn’t scare that easily.

You’re so engrossed with your findings, you barely paid any attention to Sam, even when he’d come in to check on you. He had the spare key in case of emergencies, and you ignoring most of his unreturned phone calls and missed texts, uncharacteristically you, to him was deemed as an emergency.

Sam was only less than thrilled to see your enthusiasm on all this. Normal people didn’t go around poking at the dead. He pointed out you were lucky you didn’t get possessed, not paying any mind or adhering to you claiming he was probably a friendly ghost.

“This isn’t an episode of Casper!” Sam says fed up again. His face falters as he watches your shoulders visibly slump. He hated killing the vibe, especially when you were excited, but you were excited about something all too unreal and that shouldn’t be messed with at all in the first place.

“What if I can help him?” You try reasoning with him, “What if I can help him pass on? Then I can live in peace...and so would he.”

“You’re already lucky that you’re unharmed,” Sam reminds you, “I’m just worried about you.”

“I know you are, but I’ll be fine,” you assure him, hoping you could keep that promise. After all, you couldn’t even confirm you were really communicating with Bucky.

You were relieved that the conversation with Sam didn’t take a turn for the worse like it easily could have. You understood where he was coming from and you were lucky to have someone like him care so much about your wellbeing. The realization never fails to punch you in the gut for not allowing yourself to give in.

So why were you more scared to commit than of willingly reaching out to a ghost?

Take two.

You sat perched up and ready to communicate once more. Bucky, on the other hand, is more than ready and the cool familiar breeze that passes you by lets you know that he’s here.

“Who are you?” There weren’t exactly formalities with contacting the dead and your heartbeat starts to pick up as you’re slowly spelling out ‘B-U-C-K-Y’.

“Bucky,” you whisper. Boy, did Bucky like the sound of his name coming from your lips.

“How did you...die?” you had to swallow in between the last word in that question, hoping it wouldn’t trigger a negative response. Even in the afterlife, death couldn’t be an easy topic.

The letters ‘W-A-R’ and the number ‘2’ gives you your answer. It was him! Internally, you’re overjoyed that you’ve figured out your ghostly John Doe, but you try to remain at ease.

“Did you knock down my mug?”

Bucky rolls his eyes at that, but swiftly moves your hands over to ‘YES’.

“Okay. I mean that wasn’t very nice,” you couldn’t just bite your tongue as the sass flowed right out of you.

‘S-O-R-R-Y’.

The apology takes you by surprise, and suddenly you weren’t mad about the mug anymore.

“It’s alright. It was just a mug,” you try to assure him. You’d just have to explain to Sam another time that the ghost broke it. No biggie. Yeah, right. What with the tiny arguments, he’d most likely believe you destroyed it out of anger and frustration at him.

Your arms were getting tired from the position they were in. Several minutes had passed since you last said anything to Bucky and you weren’t sure of what to ask next.

Where does this end? Do you ask him to leave? This is his home. No, it’s not anymore. It’s your home now. But he doesn’t belong here anymore. How do you help him pass on? Did you have that ability? Do you hire a medium? Enlist the help of a priest? Call a ghostbuster? Your mind grew tired all too quickly, you slumped back in your seat, breaking away from the Ouija board.

Bucky watched as you rubbed the muscles of your sore arms. He felt helpless. He wishes he could ease or take away your pain. Instead, all he could do was watch and make sure you were okay until you were ready to start talking again.

With your hands back on the items, you ask, “are you still here?” Bucky responds with ‘YES’. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, mentally preparing yourself, before proceeding with the next question.

“Can you show yourself to me?” There the ultimate question and Bucky can’t help but ask why? Why were you interested in seeing him? He was a lost cause.

“No?” you ask more to yourself, still staring at the word through the eye of the planchette, and frown at his response.

Bucky wanted nothing more than to show himself to you, but he didn’t know how. For decades he was nothing but a gust of air. No matter how hard he tried to show himself to previous owners, he was never successful.

You pull your hands back away and place them in your lap, unsure of where to go from here. Well, you couldn’t force a ghost to do something they didn’t want to do, but you hoped that maybe perhaps seeing him would make it less taxing while communicating.

There’s a sudden iciness that covers the side of your cheek, sending a chill down your spine, causing you to flinch and your hand rising quickly to warm the spot.

Bucky almost disappears at the sudden reaction. He can’t believe it. You felt that. You could feel him. It was different than pushing your hands in different directions because this time, neither of you needed the help of the Ouija board.

You’re not sure where he is as your eyes scan the room, you wanted to feel that again. Sure, the cold was a bit alarming, and as sharp as his icy touch was, so was the surge that flowed through you. It was unexplainable, but soothing.

It sucked for Bucky because he couldn’t keep your eyes trained on just him.

“Are you sure you can’t show yourself?” You ask again, this time convinced you didn’t need the Ouija board anymore.

However, Bucky needed the board to reply. You sigh in defeat as you watch the planchette slide across to the word ‘YES’. You couldn’t allow yourself to get mad. You just couldn’t understand how it was possible for him to do all these other things, but not be able to show himself. Whatever it was, you’d just have to accept that you’d never understand ghost logic.

The sound of the planchette scraping against the board, offers you the word, ‘F-E-E-L’.

Feel? You definitely felt a presence, but now it was confirmed. It was him. He was trying to communicate through touch.

“Yes, I felt you,” you let Bucky know quite eagerly. The planchette remains unmoved after that and instead of what would appear to be awkward silence, the seconds that were passing by could be more appropriately compared to that of a ticking time bomb.

“Touch me,” you request.

Bucky’s stunned. If he were alive and well right now, he’d no doubt be on his knees for you with a command like that. He floats over to you and is only more than eager to touch you again, but he’s not sure of where. Feeling a soft anticipation of a ghostly tingle, he hesitantly places both hands on the underside of your jaw, in a cradle-like fashion, hoping it'll stop your wandering eyes.  

You stand still, frozen in place, now seeing the breath of air that escapes your mouth in a cloud of smoke. He’s definitely here and in front of you.

“More,” you say barely above a whisper.

Fuck. Bucky inwardly swears at himself as you unintentionally egg him on. Testing his limits, what more could he already lose? He was already dead.

He goes all in. He leans in and presses his cold, dead lips to yours in the most gentle and light kiss ever. When he pulls away, he sees that your eyes have closed and he can’t help immediately start to wonder if you actually felt that or not. He sure as hell felt it. He can’t be certain as he tries to gauge at the expression on your face. Shit, why did he do that?

“Do it again,” and this time with a more affirmative tone, Bucky doesn’t question anything anymore and obeys. His lips dig deeper against yours, you let out a small moan and purse your lips to respond. You don’t think about how silly it must look to be making out with practically nothing, not knowing what to do with your hands because there was nothing to hold onto, but despite that it all felt too real. He was real.  

Bucky’s mind is reeling at the sound of pleasure that spews from your mouth, he can’t comprehend how this is even possible. He’d been dying to know what kissing you felt like - what you felt like at all.

When your lips start to get numb and turn blue, you reluctantly pull away. You open your eyes to a dark room and wish you could at least hear him, the sounds of ecstasy played a pivotal role in intimacy.  

Your body temperature returns to normal, blood rushing, mind a haze. You stand up and head towards your bedroom without another word. Would he take the cue to follow you? You can’t be sure. You can’t see or hear him, but your actions say otherwise and make you both feel as if he wasn’t dead at all. It was now a game of cat and mouse.

Bucky or not, you were unabashedly turned on. In moments like these, it was hard to be in control of your own body and the only thing you could do was give in to the desires. In this instance, your body couldn’t make up its mind because as if you weren’t just freezing your ass off while kissing Bucky, you were suddenly hot all over.

Flustered, you pulled down your shorts, tossed them carelessly across the room, perhaps a little too harshly. If he wasn’t going to help you out, then you would do the job yourself. A mad smile on your face, surprised you weren’t the least bit embarrassed if he was going to watch you or not. It only added to the thrill and the excitement.

Trying to regulate your breathing, you lie down on the center of your bed and run your hands over your face down to where you needed them the most. Your fingers experimentally graze along the wet spot of your panties, groaning in acknowledgment of the sudden arousal. There’s no sense in conjuring up a justifiable explanation as to how something so seemingly innocent as the kiss you shared with Bucky got you so crazed. Not wasting any time, you lift your hips up and bend your legs to slip the flimsy garment off.

No longer a thin barrier between, your entire body shivers slightly, a sharp gasp escaping your lips, when your fingers make first contact with your clit and you begin to rub slow slow circles over it. Your stomach sinks in with each relieving exhale, your breathing growing heavy. Your fingers run off course and dip into your folds, past the floodgates, your fingers resurface coated in your own wetness and you use it to an advantage in invigorating your clit.

Eyes closed, you start to think about Bucky. You want to feel guilty or believe this was all wrong. Instead of getting off to someone like Sam or someone real for that matter, you lied there baring yourself to a ghost. You try to picture that baby face of his, and all that you could based on the lone image you found of him on the Internet.

The curve of his full lips that you were fortunate enough to feel on yours moments ago. You already knew they were soft, but what about his other features? Did his eyes sparkle or were they like black holes? What color were they? They had to be of a set that could hypnotize someone. Maybe it was okay that you couldn’t see him because if you had you just knew that you’d be at his mercy.

And that was just on the surface of it all. How was he like in other areas? How would his tongue feel against yours, on your skin, in you...The simulation causes your thighs to clamp up, knees involuntarily knocking into each other; your other hand clutching onto the bed sheets. He made it that easy, but you needed one more good push to dive in the deep end.

A thin layer of sweat coats your skin from the increase in body heat, then an abrupt familiar cold sensation runs through you, his alluring scent filling your nostrils, your legs forcefully separate; all tells you that Bucky was here. You pick up your head, always a small hint of disappointment flashes through your features at the fact you still and won’t be likely to ever see him.

It shoots a wild pang through Bucky’s chest because he doesn’t miss it; never knowing he could read someone so openly. He missed out on a good chunk of his life. He missed out on someone like you. Life was so cruel.

Your thoughts aren’t as far away from his as you start to wonder, why was it all so easy - seamlessly flawless - with him? Running with only first-party information and two silent conversations, you were already willing to go headfirst for halos for Bucky. Was it pathetic? You didn’t care anymore, whatever would ultimately bring you to him, you just knew in the end you’d die happy.

Your head falls back in defeat and you try to keep your emotions at bay, until you feel the hem of your shirt being lifted, exposing your midriff. Your lips cave in and you wince at each uncalculated cold peck Bucky’s lips leave on you. Whereas you felt a minor sting at how cold his touches were, for the first time, Bucky felt like he was on fire at how hot to the touch you were in this moment. This moment with him.

His lips create a path down to your core, and the contrast in temperature feels good. Not knowing what to do with your hands again, your arms lie sprawled on the bed on either side of your body, then you mentally curse at another sad truth that you had no one to hold on to.

A cool breeze brushes past your folds and your heartbeat spikes up again. Bucky never imagined he’d ever be able to make someone feel this way. It was pointless for him, but he dreamt about it countless times. And then he wickedly thinks how he was dumb to not spy on you during those nightly sessions. He was missing out. You were absolutely divine in his eyes.

“Bucky,” his name slips past your lips when his make contact with your swollen clit. It started off so innocently, but when he pulled his lips back and ran his tongue over the wet spot you left on them, giving him a taste of what you had to offer, he wanted more.

The cold, with each bit of contact from Bucky, was no longer a thing as your body quickly acclimated to it. Bucky uses his fingers to spread your pussy lips apart and allows himself to get a better taste. Your head lulls back, sinking in deeper into your pillows.

There’s only so much you could do to communicate with Bucky, you want to feel his hands all over, but instead you pick up on the slack as you grab and squeeze handfuls of your breasts, massaging them and adding onto the sensation. Your groping proves to be successful when you draw out more noises.

Bucky’s eyes never tear away from watching your reaction, the way your body moves from pleasure - pleasure he’s bestowing on you. His mouth doesn't require guidance as his tongue pulls all the right moves, weaving its way through and between your folds. He drags out a long moan from you when he dips his tongue in and then captures your folds between his lips, tugging as he sucked on them.

“I-I need,” you try to voice out your desires, but you’re reveling in so much, especially in being able to feel Bucky’s fingers digging into the sides of your hips; you bite down on one of your fingers, trying not to let out a crazed scream.

Bucky doesn’t want you to hold back though, so he introduces his fingers into the mix as they take turns in you. You wished you could hear him and all the sounds of his onslaught. To hear those pretty boy moans, the filthy pops and slurping noises. Was he a dirty talker? God. Imagine the things he would say.

He gets the message loud and clear. You want to come, and so he quickens his actions until your body goes into overdrive. When you reach your peak, your eyes snap open, pupils blown, and your back arches up in perfect bridge-like fashion. It almost looks like you’re being possessed before you come back down releasing choppy gasps of breaths.

Exhausted, you struggle to stay conscious wanting to communicate with Bucky one last time, but it felt like the orgasm almost sucked the life out of you. The puffs of cool air against your pussy are an indication that Bucky is still present and he wasn’t going to go anywhere just yet. He hasn’t moved from his position and is short of breath, in awe of seeing you coming undone for him and more so the fact that this happened. This wasn’t just another one of his dreams.

For as long as he’d been an apparition, he’d hoped to be able to finally pass on and if this was his actual last day on Earth, then he’d gladly accept it because one night with you was enough. 

Bucky would die happy.

A/N: Yeah, the ending wasn’t strong, but I wanted to leave it open for interpretation. Let me know what you think! A simple like and reblog is enough to help a sis out! Thank you for reading! 

#mrwinterr writes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fanfic #ghost!bucky barnes #ghost!bucky #ghost au #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x female reader #sam wilson x y/n #sam wilson x you

[bigskydreaming]

You're asked to choose one and only one or DC's future stops existing immediately. your choices:

1. Jason Todd the anti-hero who seldom works with only a couple of the bats he doesn't hate, for example Dick and Cass VS. Jason Todd who came back with healed body but broken spirit, folded back into the Gotham gang and learns to be part of the society again.

2. Tim Drake who makes all of his mistakes as canon but realizes he's been wrong and apologizes to people VS. Tim Drake back in his first iteration, a cute little brother character who is a reader insert and a fun teenager.

3. JayKyle VS DickKyle.

4. Jason Todd with a sword VS. Damian Wayne with a sword.

5. Chris Kent VS. Jon kent.

Okay but which DC future? Its omniversal future? Its hypertime future? Its multiversal future? Its Elseworlds future? Its dark multiverse future? Mwahahaha your threat is useless because the sheer wtf of DC's continuities, timelines and conflicting declarations of what to even call their multiomnihyperverse makes it impossible to target simply A future! DC's overly unnecessarily complicated nature renders it functionally immortal and impossible to ever truly destroy, take that Darkseid.

I mean. But anyway. Whatevs:

1) I honestly do prefer the idea of Jason someday fully reuniting/reintigrating into the Batfam as a whole, because fuck it, the found family I'm here for is the one where they actually act like a family....I just think it takes actual work to get to that point and I get irey when people are like we're here! We found it! And its like meanwhile, abusive dynamics still abound. Mmm. No thank you. But even though I've been on a huge Jason and Dick and Cass kick for like, forever, I do still aim for him having a dynamic of his own with the rest of the family.

Like the thing is, I hate playing the favorites card in families, and I think the emphasis on so and so being Bruce's favorite child or so and so being this kid's favorite sibling, etc, like it really does feel like to the detriment of the whole family, because once you start validating the idea of favorites, ESPECIALLY in a found family that is CONTINUOUSLY growing....I think you're kinda shooting yourself in the foot because you're kinda creating a situation where either no future new additions to the family can EVER be Bruce or one of the kids' 'favorite' or else you're innately positing that said fave status is conditional and even a current fave of Bruce or a sibling can be bumped down the ladder by the addition of a later arrival....

Which is LITERALLY the entire essence of the eternal conflict between Dick and Damian and Tim fans. Its not even that Damian is Dick's favorite, allegedly, its that prior to Damian's very EXISTENCE, fans felt comfortable declaring Tim unilaterally to be Dick's 'favorite'.....and then all it took was the addition of a single family member who had specific NEEDS in regards to Dick's attention and focus, largely because of his age and needing a legal guardian while Tim was old enough to literally jet set around the world on his own.....and like, everything went up in flames in large corners of fandom.

So I'm just like, death to the fave family member myth, its just incredibly counter productive to the idea of found family as a whole especially when it usually only exists to prop up a preferred character as better than others via the proof of see, these other characters say he's their fave or whatever...but also like, its not even necessary?

Because the thing is, you can have Jason reintegrated into the whole family overall, and still prioritize your personal narrative FOCUS on characters you like more than others, like say Dick and Cass.....because of course its natural for even people in the same family to have entirely different DYNAMICS with different family members....and these dynamics don't have to come with a ranking system in order to prioritize which ones you just focus on more in a story. Because its not necessarily that Dick has to be Jason's fave brother, y'know, just for Jason to prefer spending time with Dick simply because he's more comfortable with him due to knowing him longer or being more secure in the idea that Dick doesn't judge him based on their greater shared history.

This doesn't mean that Jason doesn't care for his other siblings, that he can't have strong dynamics with them as well, its just about finding a reason for why these two specifically might be in a story without the others that doesn't demand putting a definitive ranking on which one Jason considers his FAVE. Just like Damian doesn't have to be Dick's FAVE just for them to have the super close canon relationship they have, even relative to the other siblings, because there's everything needed in canon already to establish that the mere fact of Dick essentially RAISING Damian for a year, and being the first one in the family to really take a chance on Damian, like, this lends itself naturally to them maybe more naturally gravitating towards each other than other siblings due to comfort level and familiarity, etc, but it doesn't have to be like....oh but yeah, I just like Damian more than you, Tim, y'know?

So my answer on this one is a total cop out of both, both is good. Jason totally reintegrated back into the family, but with dynamics that still lend themselves fairly easily towards story lineups where its just him running missions with Dick or Duke or any other one or two specific family members even if for no other reason than they gel together best in the field, y'know?

2) Hmm. I honestly really do love and miss 90s Tim Drake and just....don't see him in a lot of what I read these days. I'm like no, why did he have to go, he was doing so well! BUT I'm also on a big accountability kick, and like, I'm so steeped in fics where Dick GROVELS for forgiveness for every little slight he's ever done real or imagined, with every character but Tim in particular, so its like.....I'm not gonna lie, I really have a preference these days for seeing stuff where its literally anyone actually owning up to shit they've done to Dick and apologizing or groveling or making it to HIM, like, completely unconditionally. In the same manner we usually see Dick apologizing, glossing over any reasons he might have had for doing what he did or feeling the way he did, and saying oh it doesn't matter, putting the entirety of his focus on what HE did and why it was wrong no matter what and he's sorry.....that's what I would kill to see from more fics, just in reverse.

Because so often even in the all too rare fics where we DO see other characters apologizing to Dick for shit, its watered down with Dick volunteering that oh he messed up too, it was a two way street, and its like no! This is Pettiness Hours! I want the unconditional apologies! Give me the groveling! From anyone, I don't care at this point, lol, just show me characters actually PUTTING IN THE WORK to make it up to Dick for harm they've caused him, even if completely unintentionally or via neglecting his feelings or considering the repercussions their actions or words would have on him. Aaaaaaand, frankly, Tim's a good place to start there, because of how one sided all the takes on their conflicts have been for so many years. I mean, if people need a place to start, Batman and Robin Eternal gets enough praise it can't be pretended that people in fandom don't know that story exists, so how about some stories where Tim says he's fucking sorry for punching Dick in issue #4 or #5 of that one, and it was uncalled for and he was clearly just looking for an excuse to unleash some more of his resentment and upset for the Spyral/Forever Evil stuff, and family deciding that its totally okay to punch Dick whenever they're mad at him and need to work off some aggression so they can then finally forgive him (for now) is a trend that needs to die in a fire post-haste? I mean just as an example.

But the thing that kills me about fanfic trends is like....the sameness of so much of it. There's SO much room for variety and diverse takes, and like....I don't actually hate Tim! I'm just cranky because of the imbalanced nature of most content out there for literal years at this point. Push the pendulum BACK in the other direction, create some balance by showing the flip side of things.....and that leaves a lot more room for me and others of like minds to then be more amenable to - and even interested in - other stories that don't scratch this particular itch, but don't need to, because other stories are doing the scratching by then, y'know?

And THEN like, at that point, I would be ALL FOR more stories that are just callbacks to classic 90s Tim who I adore, with his skateboarding and his EARNESTNESS and his go-get-em spirit and also the gumption. All the gumption. I like that Tim. I do miss that Tim. But like, for the moment, like, I want accountable Tim because I am tiiiiiiiired of groveling Dick and tbh at this point its not enough for me to just see people move past putting Dick in that position and just have mutually respective and doting brothers Dick and Tim having adventures together......nah, first I want some reciprocation. Ngl. Gimme the apologies for actual mistakes actually made.

3) DickKyle. Easy question, c'mon, you gotta know that. LOL. ;)

But yeah, I've been shipping these two off their like, two shared pages from way back in the Obsidian Age story years before Jason even returned, let alone was in Countdown together with Kyle, so like, its no contest. I don't mind JayKyle, I certainly prefer it to JayRoy tbh, but there's not a ton of appeal in it for me, particularly in how its usually depicted, because like....the entire basis of JayKyle is that they DO have stories together and spent a whole year worth of weekly issues traveling the multiverse together in Countdown.....but there's like, practically no trace of their actual dynamics from that series or any specifics of literally any issue from that entire comic in most fics I’ve read, so its like.....idk, it tends to come across as more generic, not in the sense that it cant still be interesting, but more in the sense that it feels like just someone paired with Jason just because history between them EXISTS without any interest in exploring what that history actually IS....and at that point, its like, well there's no reason TO prioritize that ship over DickKyle for me personally, when like, I have a shit ton of headcanon reasons for why those two in a pairing specifically. *Shrugs* My logic. Its not for everyone, but it works for me.

4) Jason with a sword or Damian with a sword? I don't understand the question. Both. Both is good. All the characters should have swords. Swords are awesome.

5) Chris Kent vs Jon Kent - oof. I adore Jon, I really do. I love his dynamic with Damian, I love a lot of their specific stories, the parallels between them as friends and Bruce and Clark as friends....its all very bien. But I gotta give this one to Chris, because I'm always gonna have a soft spot for him because I'm a sucker for all abused kid heroes, and I just miss that funky little dude so much. There's so many stories we didn't get with him and were just ripe for the picking, but nooooo, DC's like lol you can't have nice things, here we just rebooted the entire multiverse and now Clark and Lois never adopted the son of Clark's worst Kryptonian rival and raised him with tender love and care awww does that make you sad, were you invested in him, WELL TOO BAD, HE'S GONE NOW AND BASICALLY NEVER EXISTED, NOW GIVE US YOUR MONEY ANYWAY MWAHAHAHAHAH.

Yeah. I'm still not over that. Probably will never be tbh, so I with great grudge-bearing do affirm that I'm gonna go with Chris on this one and like, he is a Priority for me and I'm still very keen on the idea of him and Duke being besties for random reasons that might not make sense to anyone but me, but eh, whatever.

[captains-writing-desk]

Changes of Winter

Universe: Harry Potter

Character: Severus Snape

Type: F!Reader Insert (You, Yours)

Words: 4,020

Prompt: Hello- Idk if you're still taking requests for Snape but could you possibly do one kinda based off the song Heather by Conan Gray? Like reader and snape are students and she likes him but hes too hooked on Lily to notice? Maybe even ending with like some fluff and them getting together in the end? Idk- up to you!   And sorry if you weren't taking requests I dont mean to be a bother. (Sometimes I mix posts up where people say they are taking requests and not) 😅

 

Notes: Am I obsessed with snow and winter??? Maybe... Are y’all obsessed with Snape? YES, I HAVE SO MANY SNAPE REQUESTS! 😂 I haven’t proofread this guys I’m sorry! Some platonic Lupin in here for you too!

Enjoy!

-

 

“Are you cold?” You were torn from watching your breath disappear with the cold but gentle breeze. Your feet shifted and creaked in the snow as you turned to see Severus approach you with a book tucked into his chest.

“Severus,” You gasped softly and smiled, taking a moment to release your breath slowly, “It is snowing.” You stated the obvious as if he didn’t notice and he smirked at your sarcasm.

“I can see that. Where’s your scarf?” He frowned when you averted your eyes then turned towards the lake.

“Out there somewhere.” You shrugged and shivered the cold from your bones.

“Why is it out there?” He ducked to catch your gaze and you glanced sheepishly at him.

“I may have said some things to some people in defence yesterday. So they may have decided to push me and my scarf into the lake...” You smiled awkwardly and he sighed.

“Is that why a certain someone went to the infirmary with a broken nose last night?” He raised his brow.

“Yes. Yes it is. I have detention later so...” You didn’t quite get away with your crimes and he sighed again as he always did when you got yourself in trouble, it almost got longer as each year was passing. You tried to laugh it off but a shiver crept over you instead. Severus saw this and removed his scarf then held it out to you. You stared at the scarf draped over his palms and tried to decline but he stepped forwards and stapled it around your shoulders instead, flicking one end over your shoulder to loop around your neck. His scent immediately filled your nostrils and ran through every fibre of your being as you subconsciously hugged it closer to you.

“Thank you.” You muttered through the fabric, hiding the huge grin plastered across your face. For a moment you had not locked gaze with each other as he earnestly muttered a ‘You’re welcome.’ Yet, as quick as the gaze had lasted, his eyes fell behind you and his whole form softened. You took a moment to register his distraction and followed his gaze to a plume of red hair that fluttered gently against the shoulders of none other than Lily Evans.

Even you were taken aback by her beauty sometimes, you couldn’t really blame Severus or anyone else for that fact in being completely enthralled by her. You couldn’t help the jealousy you felt and how you envied her. You wished Severus looked at you like that. You wished you could distract him simply by walking into his view. You wished you were Lily Evans.

Then again, you watched James trail behind her, pushing every compliment under the sun at her. That you could do without if you were her but you weren’t her and never would be, especially in Severus’ eyes.

Her eyes flickered over to Severus and she smiled, adjusted her course and made her way over. Your chin fell to your chest and you sighed as she greeted you both. Severus returned his sentiments but before you could even half ass some form of greeting, James spoke up.

“Aren’t you supposed to be staying away from me?” He puffed his chest out and you turned and lifted your head to meet him.

“You came to me.” You folded your arms as you stood your ground.

“You did break his nose.” Lily stated, not defensively but casually.

“He pushed me into the lake.” You defended yourself.

“Because you punched him.” She stated again and you stifled a bemused laugh and looked at James who saw he had been caught in a lie.

“Is that what you’re telling people?” You laughed once again, “Is it too embarrassing to tell people that I was standing up for my friend,” You motioned briefly to Severus, “as you belittled him and you got so angry that you pushed me into the lake? So hard that I broke the ice and cracked my wand. Might even have drowned if Remus hadn’t pulled me out.” You stared him down- hard, making him regret ever bringing it up in the first place as Lily turned slowly to him.

“You said it was in self defence.” She folded her arms.

“It was!” He insisted.

“Of what? Your pride?” She scolded him and they started arguing so you turned to Severus again.

“You were defending me?” He spoke immediately.

“Of course. I don’t like people talking about you like that.” You cleared your throat awkwardly. He opened his mouth to say something but his gaze once again wandered over to Lily, which honestly at this point was annoying. She had started walking away, telling James to leave her alone and that she had just wanted to talk to Severus in peace. You looked back to Severus who stared longingly after her, almost pained.

“Go.” You told him and after a beat, he was following her leaving you alone to sigh through the pain you felt.

-

You understood he had known Lily a little longer than you, but she wasn’t really there for him as much. You assumed that with each passing year he would get over her a little more but not once did his admiration for her dwindle. Even as she got together with James he still felt a burning desire for her.

Now that they were together, Severus had less time to spend with her, uninterrupted time anyway and he would find himself moping about it around you. He would never expressly talk about it, come to think of it he had never even mentioned the fact that he even liked her but you knew it and you knew what pain he was feeling just by looking at him because you were feeling that same pain. The only difference being that he was bitter about it, his pain made him bitter and resentful which was difficult to deal with. Half of the time you would tell him to let things be and not be so bitter but he would either end up storming off or resigning himself to complete silence for the rest of the time spent together.

The more this happened, the more you thought about distancing yourself from him, as painful as it would be it had to be less painful than watch him fall and break for another woman that wasn’t you. There were times you were almost successful in breaking away but watching his heart break with nobody to fall on felt worse. Really you were all he had, not that either of you really knew it.

You found yourself feeling more alone despite deciding to stay close with him still, especially when he would get angry and storm off, leaving you alone for a few days until he decided to speak to you again.

 

It was one of those days where Severus was off elsewhere, possibly cursing you judging by how your day had gone. Everything seemed to have gone wrong, nothing major but all these little things had built up which in turn built up your frustration. In your free period you decided to sit by the lake to read and breath in the autumn air that was quickly being chased away by the sting of winter.

“Bit cold down here for you to be sat on the ground isn’t it?” The voice of Remus Lupin made you jump and you leapt to your feet.

“I came here for peace until you came.” You put your hand on your hip.

“I came here for peace too.” He took a step towards you and you stepped back. He raised his hands as if he was taking a wild animal. “Calm down.” He chuckled.

“Forgive me for not trusting any of you snakes around lakes.” You weren’t really being rude but you did have a point. You found Remus to be the more tolerable of his little group, he was paired with you in some of your classes and you found he had a pretty decent sense of humour.

“I don’t blame you really.” He laughed and sat down next to where you had been perched against a tree, pulled out a book then patted the space next to him. You rolled your eyes and went and sat next to him, flipping your own book to the page you had been on before. You both read in silence for a while until he sighed.

“I am sorry that they’re rude to you.” He turned to you with furrowed brows.

“So you keep saying.” You spoke flatly, not bringing your eyes away from your book. Truthfully he would always apologise for anything that happened to you on behalf of his friends.

“I do mean it though.” He said sincerely but what difference would that make.

“No offence Remus but it means nothing coming from someone who did nothing. Nothing to me yes, but do you say anything about it to them? I don’t suppose you do. Besides, I’m not the one who should be getting the apology in the first place.” He knew you meant Severus. Severus got it worse than anyone in that school.

“I know...” He whispered and you fell into silence while reading again.

He walked you back to the castle and to your next class with him, then to the hall for lunch afterwards.

Shortly after you sat down and bid your farewells, Severus slid himself into the space next to you.

“Were you just chatting with Remus Lupin?” He asked immediately.

“Welcome back.” You simply said, waiting for his inevitable apology before doing the same thing again a week later.

 

-

Winter had come in thick and fast as it did every year, but seemingly quicker this year. Perhaps because it was the final year and not long until you would be done for good.

“Does she even know?” You interrupted Severus’ thoughts as he watched James and Lily dance at the Yule ball.

“Know what? I thought you weren’t coming.” He tore his eyes away from her for a split second to glance at you, taking in your dressy appearance and you sighed.

“You’ve been badgering me all week to come so you wouldn’t be alone. It’s our last year here you know and there’s not much left of it at that.” You twiddled your thumbs nervously as you watched him carefully and leaned up against the wall.

“What are you getting at?” He suddenly snapped his head towards you and you averted your eyes momentarily, trying to bide your own time and calm your nerves somehow.

“I don’t know. It’s just been a long time Severus. Perhaps it’s time to let go.” You barely whispered but he knew what you said, perhaps ignoring it this time because it was Christmas and he did not want to storm off on you now. Though in reality you were perhaps talking more to yourself than you were to him in the first place.

A shadow cast itself between the two of you then and you looked to see Remus stood to the side of you.

“Can I help you?” You asked a little amused at the odd smile that graced his lips.

“I came to ask you for a dance.” He announced almost smugly.

“Is this a joke?” You looked around him for his friends, trying to catch a glimpse of them snickering away somewhere.

“No.” He had a goofy smile on his face that you were still trying to decide if it was genuine or not..

“Drunk?” You narrowed your eyes in amusement.

“A little.” He admitted with a chuckle.

“That explains it.” You laughed and glanced at Severus who still had his eyes on his prize but was listening in for sure because he rolled his eyes at Remus’ demeanour.

“Aw come on, I would actually like to dance with you. I thought we were getting on!” He slurred slightly and you started to wonder where he was finding whatever alcohol he had been getting at, perhaps it would have helped your nerves.

“Yeah I guess you’re right.” You had to admit you had become quite accustomed to his company.

“Yes! And I saved your life once so let’s say you owe me.” He flicked a finger gun my way and I laughed again.

“Alright. So if I get up and dance with you, and it’s all one big joke, you know I’ll break your arm right?” You shifted your body in preparation to follow him.

“I promise you, I just want to dance.” He said earnestly and held his hand out to you. With a quick glance at Severus who was still engrossed elsewhere, you took his hand.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” You pushed yourself from the wall and saw Severus out the corner of your eye finally turn to look at you as Remus towed you away.

That had been the last time you had seen Severus as your friend before school ended, the next time you had seen him you had gotten into a big argument with him about the whole ordeal. He wasn’t happy that you’d made friends with the likes of him let alone danced with him. You said he was being stupid and you defended Remus for not playing a part in the teasing and bullying but as you had said to Remus, he hadn’t tried to stop it, so you supposed Severus had every right to be mad.

 

-

 

If you’d have known he would end up being a Professor at Hogwarts with you perhaps you wouldn’t have accepted the position but then again, Dumbledore practically begged you to come and it couldn’t all be bad could it? It would be easy enough to avoid him or ignore him for the most part, aside from your gut practically kicking you every time you saw him.

 

There was a full moon out and you needed moon water so you chucked a warm robe on and meandered down to the lake, perhaps your favourite place despite almost dying in it. You opened your pouch of empty vials and crouched by the water, taking your time to carefully bottle the water and take in the crisp autumn air of September.

A shadow came over you and you moved slightly to glance at the reflection in the water.

“Severus.” Your heart stopped for a moment and you almost choked on the breath you didn’t even know you held. You stared at each other through the reflection of the lake for a while, neither knowing what to say. You were shocked he had approached you and perhaps he was a little shocked too, only that he was bold enough to do it.

You studied his features that had grown stronger as he had matured and he studied your own features, each of you coming to rest in the eyes that had not changed really, only that his held a different expression as they watched you now. Mind you it had been a while since you’d seen eachother.

He crouched beside you and held his hand out beside you, after a moment you passed him one of your empty vials which he promptly filled as you placed the bag between you so he could help. A silence fell between you for a while. Not an awkward silence but it was fairly jarring.

Once your vials were full he pulled out a different shape and sized vial and rolled it between his fingers before finally looking at you to tell him what you wanted in those. You looked at the vial then slowly at him, finally seeing not just a reflection.

“Mugwort.” You practically whispered and he raised his brow.

“I have Mugwort you know.” He pursed his lips.

“I like to do my own foraging. Besides I’m willing to bet you’re the kind of man who resents anyone coming to you for supplies.” You mirrored his expression.

“I know.” He thought for a moment, “You’re right, yes.” A very low chuckle escaped him, almost as quiet as a breeze but you heard it and things felt almost normal- too normal. You could feel yourself melting for him all over again, not that you didn’t melt when you saw him around but the acknowledgement of eachother changed the whole thing and it scared you. The small smile that had graced your lips watching him chuckle crept away, as if your memory had been wiped.

“You should know... I..” He trailed off and looked at the ground between you with his brows furrowed as he tried to speak. He took a breath and calmed himself before looking dead into your eyes.

“I really made a mess with you. I wish I hadn’t gotten so angry for no reason.” This was his attempt at making amends- beginning to at least.

“I understand.” You assured him you bore no I’ll will against him for his anger, after all you had understood why he was angry.

“It’s not just that really, I suppose. I wish I’d seen you more.” He was being very cryptic. What he was saying was difficult for him and though didn’t quite know what he was saying, you understood that he was trying to talk sensitively which was hard for him.

“Right?” You pressed him, ignoring the knot in your stomach.

“I’ve missed you.” He sighed, deciding he had said enough for now but it wasn’t the end of it. You on the other hand were lost. You hadn’t expected something like that from him but not only that, all hopes of forgetting him and moving on vanished like a shooting star. Would you let yourself be drawn back in by him? Of course you would. Who were you kidding?

“I missed you too.” You practically clawed for breath trying to respond to him then he smiled. A small smile but it was there, and it was beautiful .

 

-

For almost a month you we talking regularly like old friends again but something seemed wrong. There were some things he wasn’t telling you and you knew it. You didn’t want to ask him nor did you want to pressure him but you became increasingly agitated be this niggling feeling in the pit of your stomach that something was off but you pushed it down further and further but you felt the need to be close to him, increasingly so. Perhaps it was your lovesick ways coming back stronger everyday though deep down you knew it was something else. You asked him to spend Hallowe’en with you rather randomly although he knew it was perhaps your favourite time of the year so he agreed.

The feeling you had got worse and worse that week until the Hallowe’en feast came and it disappeared completely. Even the fact that Severus was not in attendance hadn’t phased you much because you would see him that night but the night came and you did not see him. You decided to take a trip to his room to see what was up but on your way there an overwhelming sense of dread and misery washed over you, stopping you dead in your tracks and clinging to the bannister of the staircase for support. You heaved yourself to stand straight and found yourself marching to the Headmasters office where you slumped against the door and knocked repeatedly. The door opened and your arm flew across the frame to keep yourself steady.

“Are you alright my dear?” Immediately Albus’ arms came to support you.

“Something is very wrong. I came to find Severus, I don’t know why I’m here.” You were oddly calm for someone practically panicking internally. It was an odd sensation.

“Come inside.” He led you into his office and sat you down asking why you thought something was wrong.

“I can feel it. I’ve felt this odd sense of dread for a while now until this morning when it left. Not five minutes ago did it come back worse than ever and I feel... Pained.” You thought about the feeling for a moment. Yes it was pain you felt now and Albus’ stared at you for a long time until he closed his eyes.

“It isn’t my place to speak for Severus so you must ask him but I can tell you this, He is going to need you more than he ever has now. Not as a second choice but as the only one he has ever needed truly.” You were absolutely baffled by what he said. It made no sense but all you knew was that Severus needed you.

“Should I go to him?” You whispered and he shook his head.

“I would advise you not to. He will return soon then I will take my leave.” You nodded slowly as he spoke.

“Might I stay here until he returns?” You asked flatly and stared at his desk.

“Of course.” He touched your hand.

 

 

You had fallen asleep at some point waiting for him, the numbness putting you to sleep but you woke up to Severus gently touching your shoulder with no sign of Albus.

“I’m sorry I missed Hallowe’en with you.” He sounded exhausted.

“It’s alright. What happened to you?” You had your head tilted back and looked directly into his eyes.

“Come.” He instructed and walked you to his living quarters where he sat you down next to him on a small sofa. He explained to you that Lily and James had been murdered by Lord Voldemort. He continued to explain his own hand in the scheme and some things you’d never expected nor wanted to hear. Though you were glad he seemed on the right path.

“I’m sorry, Severus. I know she meant the world to you.” You gently placed your hand in his in comfort but he flipped his palm up to take hold of your hand instead.

“I loved her, yes. She was not the one for me however. I ignored everything from you, even when it was my own pain I felt being mirrored back to me and I only came to realise that when you left to dance with that Lupin boy. I was angry at myself for not seeing you there all those years and I still took it out on you, as if you hadn’t tried. I suppose I’m telling you this now so no matter what you think about my choices right now, at least one of us got to say something.” You’d never heard him ramble like that before, only when he was arguing but this was a different type.

“It’s a lot to take in, Sev. I can’t deny that I’m happy you told me all that and frustrated that it took so long to get to this moment plus with all the extra information.” You paused for a moment and watched him retract his excitement from the situation. “I’ll adjust though. For now let’s take it one step at a time though?” You proposed and he nodded, a small smile creeping across his face but it was shadowed by the events of earlier.

“I’ll stay with you.” You whispered and leaned over to him, gently wrapping your arms over his shoulders and kissing his cheek. Neither of you knew how long you could stay with him but one step at a time right?

#reader insert #severus snape x reader #severus snape #snape x reader #snape #harry potter #fan fiction

[coldtomyflash]

Hi! I'm the anon who asked you about advice for speech patterns with OC characters--absolutely love love loved your advice btw, it wasn't too much at all! I'm just struggling to write a character who grew up really close with their siblings and trying to not make them sound like either of them while still sounding like they grew up together. I want to be able to write dialogue without using tags sometimes and be able to know which character said what. Any more suggestions?

How many shows have you watched with close siblings recently? If any, spend some time analysing what they do in depth. And I’m asking about shows because actors can help you get a very clear feel for differences in character and tone, and should be easier to analyse from that approach than books would be.

I’ve recently watched Supernatural, with the two main characters being brothers who have spent literally almost the entirety of their lives (save for a stint to college for one of them) by each other’s side in close proximity. Nonetheless, I don’t think I’d have any issue telling who is speaking in a fic even if the dialogue had a sum total of zero (0) dialogue tags -- even (maybe especially) if the whole fic was just dialogue back and forth. I could most definitely write a fic as such, partly because I can hear their voices in my head if I were to close my eyes and try, and being able to “visualize” those voices makes it so much easier to ensure they stay distinct from one another. 

This is because the writers and actors have done a great job of giving them really similar speech conventions in some ways (as a baseline example, they both use the word “dude” in exactly the same ways) but also have their own quirks (for example, one has what’s almost a catchphrase of “so get this” and the other doesn’t really say that). Each voice is distinct, and it’s a lot less about specific word choice and more about how the way they speak relates to their character and character’s identity: hesitations, pauses, voice raises, cut-off words, interrupting the other, longer or shorter sentences, etc.

So pick out some things that you think both (all? not sure how many there are) of your sibling characters would have in common, and some things that would be unique about them. Does one use bigger/more erudite words than another? Does one swear more than the other(s)? Did one internalize the use of “so, like” from their peers where the other(s) didn’t? Does one raise their voice more than the other?

And do they all refer to things using some common terms? Do they have inside jokes and references that you can use to show how close they are? Does one tease the other more? Is one more terse than the other? 

I think you should be very clear about who these characters are inside your mind, and work to let that influence their voices as they come out on the page. Make sure that you’re writing dialogue as a fluid and living thing, rather than rigid. What does that mean? Look at these examples:

“you do not know what it means to me,” he said.

“you don’t know what it means to me,” he said quietly.

“you don’t know what it means to me” he said, voice quiet, pausing every second word with eyes downcast.

“you don’t... you don’t know what it means,” he all but whispered, so quiet that the faint “to me” was almost lost to the floor as he lowered his head.

Right, okay, I think I’ve got your attention. You’re seeing how there’s different ways of conveying hesitation, tone. Now let’s put that into a conversation without dialogue tags, and you can tell me if you think it’s obvious who’s speaking and how these individuals are different:

“you’re not going and that’s final!”

a pause, and then,

“you don’t... you don’t know what it means,” he all but whispered, so quiet that the faint “to me” was almost lost to the floor as he lowered his head.

“you - dude - what? where is this coming from? since when - ?”

“i... nevermind.”

“no, not nevermind! talk to me!”

“i shouldn’t’ve even brought it up.”

“yes you damn well should have, you - “

“would you - ...”

“would i what?”

“i... just would you ... stop... demanding. okay? i get that you’re worried, i do, but it’s...”

“[name]?”

“it’s my decision.”

(And scene)

Okay so obviously I’m in the mood to write something maudlin because idk what that even is, but I hope it managed to convey that one character is raising their voice (exclamation marks, short imperative sentences) and is worked up in a way that has him agitated (he cuts himself off it ends with “-” rathe than “...”). You know that even though he might be close with the other person, he is different than him, and is used to giving orders or taking charge.

whereas the other (let’s assume younger) brother here is hesitant, quiet, using a lot of ellipses (...) as he trails off, even after he cuts himself off you get the impression that he wants to say more but is hesitating to. the “okay?” could be interpreted as a louder “okay?” if it was said by the other, because it’s in it’s own sentence and not just modifying the previous sentence, but here (hopefully) you get the impression that it’s this character taking a second then pushing what he’s saying a bit. not “just would you stop demanding, okay?” but “stop demanding. okay?” by separating it, i’ve made it a question rather than a command. 

this younger character is also using qualifiers and adverbs (”just would you” not “would you” or even “would you just”) to soften his speech, whereas the older one is using swears to intensify his.

but neither of them are using any particular word choice here that would stand out, and they’re both comfortable with contractions, and repeating each other’s words back and forth in a way that makes it seem like they’re probably comfortable using the same language (nothing is in scare quotes when they quote/repeat things back to each other). there’s nothing here that stops them from being raised close in a way that means their speech is similar. 

So - that’s uh, my weird advice, i guess. get their voices in your head as best as you can, in a way that matches the character and their personality and their role as a sibling to the other (as well as the mood and emotions within each scene!), and do your best to write your dialogue a bit fluidly so that all those little idiosyncrasies that create tone (hesitations, pauses, full stops and new sentences, questions, exclamations, interruptions, etc) all come through naturally without requiring dialogue tags and description to make it come to life.

Final piece of advice on this: trust your reader. unless you screw up the order of who’s talking, they should be able to follow it back and forth. you can toss in a dialogue tag here and there if it gets to be an especially long exchange, or do what i like better and toss in other information about how they’re feeling or responding or what they’re seeing to help situate the reader in the correct PoV, but for the most part readers can follow a flowing conversation so long as they know who spoke first and you keep the back and forth exchange clear. 

#writing advice #writing reference #writing #writing resource #redhead vs. writing #dialogue #dialogue tags #hope this helps #honestly just give it a shot and see how it comes out #have a little faith #and play around with it #i love taking out dialogue tags #(lmao not me having written an entire buzzfeed unsolved piece without a single dialogue tag #that was a delightful challenge #anyway) #lovely to hear from you and good luck with the writing! #Anonymous

[talas-starlight]

Killing me softly - Sokka x reader

SUMMARY: Having only heard good things about Sokka, you always wanted to see how great he is for yourself. When you finally get the opportunity, you struggle to find him as funny as everyone said.  

This is based off the song killing me softly by the fugees which you can listen to: here! or there is a version by zhavia: here!

I strongly suggest you listen to the song because I think the whole vibe you get from it will get you in the mindset for this (and hopefully distract you from how poorly this was executed AHAH)

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

WARNINGS: angsty vibes. tried to have a hopeful ending but idk if it worked lol. poor writing skills.

A/N: ahA I really couldn’t get this idea out of my head so here we are! most certainly did not do this concept/ song fic justice to the way I imagined it but lol this shit low key hurted my feelings but also tried to turn it around? Idk I think this is okay?

KEY: words in-between dividers = lyrics MY MASTERLIST: here!

I heard he sang a good song, I heard he had a style And so I came to see him, to listen for a while And there he was, this young boy, a stranger to my eyes

You knew nothing and everything about him all at the same time. Hakoda allowed you to join them as they recruited people across the nations to prepare for invasion day. In doing so, you unknowingly signed a non-verbal contract to hear all the stories and jokes about his son, Sokka. Of course, he spoke highly of his daughter, but there was an unrelenting sense of pride and joy that came with hearing about him.

“You’ll really enjoy speaking with him y/n. He can take any dull or sad moment and turn it into something that will make you laugh beyond your years. He’s been through so much, but he’s become the warrior I knew he was always destined to be.”

It was impossible not to want to meet him. You wanted to hear the stories in the flesh as he became the light in the darkness of this war.

Yet when he finally boarded the ship with his friends after Ba Sing Se, that’s all he became, a story. As a mechanic and strategist, your time was booked to the brim, building upon the plans Sokka created himself. Somehow, you managed to have interactions with Katara and Toph, even Momo, but being in the same room as Sokka? Impossible. You weren’t avoiding him by any means, and neither was he, it just seemed that even when confined to the space of a ship your duties dragged both of you into different directions…. Until now.

Finally having time to relax as you finished reviewing a draft for one segment of the invasion, you made your way mess hall in a desperate search to consume any food you could get your hands on. Walking in, Toph perked up at feeling your presence when entering the room. Considering you were always busy when working on something and she was not too chatty, you got along well with minimal conversations and comfortable silence.

You grab a bowl, filling it to the brim with fresh soup and sat at their table across from her. Feeling content as you feel the soups warm and wholesome scent fill your senses, you glance around to see who else is sitting at the table. Eyes zeroing in on Sokka’s frame at the other end of the table, your breath instantly hitches. Suddenly your face feels as warm as your soup, and you want to kick yourself for letting yourself be so affected just by your incredibly short glance at him. Shifting your focus back to your soup you make the painfully obvious decision to focus all of your attention towards it, only listening to their interactions around you. You reminded yourself that you didn’t truly know him, only what everyone else has told you. You knew better than to let yourself become a total fool for the Watertribe boy without having any proper interactions with him. Hence, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at the edge of your seat in anticipation to see Sokka joke around and tell stories with your friends. After all, that is what you were told about from the moment you met his father.

Strumming my pain with his fingers (one time, one time) Singing my life with his words (two times, two times) Killing me softly with his song Killing me softly with his song Telling my whole life with his words Killing me softly with his song

The excitement quickly dissipated when he began to dive into this evenings’ jokes and anecdotes.

“Guys! You wouldn’t believe it!! I was exploring the ship after training today, and I found all of these Fire Nation scrolls about their art and folktales in one of the rooms, and let me tell you, it’s a load of shit!”

As everyone laughed, you momentarily stopped breathing. Your entire being began to fold into itself, terrified at the prospect of him taking all of the things you favoured about your childhood and rip them to pieces.

Katara attempted to see the light in his statement. “Come on Sokka it can’t be that bad! I mean even the Watertribe has some questionable stories, I remember even the one Gran Gran told was a bit-“

“No, Katara! This is by far soooo much suckier than those stories. Okay, so there’s this one about dragons right? What happens is that there’s this Dragon Emperor who becomes bound to a mortal’s body by a Dark Water Spirit. So obviously! I was expecting this super cool battle or revenge plot, but in the end, they turned it into this lame love story where the Dragon Emperor falls in love with a mortal who turns out to be the Dragon Empress!”

“Aw I think that’s sweet! I mean surely there would have been a battle with the Dark Water Spirit so it wouldn’t have been a total loss?”

“Ugh, Katara! You don’t get it! It's just… sooooo oogie! They shouldn’t have done that. It should have been a story about battle, and warriors! I mean come on, that’s all the Fire Nation is good for right? Destruction and battle. So why did they have to ruin that story like that with all of that lovey stuff?! It just seems like nothing good can ever come out of the Fire Nation.”

Taking another mouthful of the soup, you kept your face downward as everyone laughed at Sokka’s exclamation of hatred for the nation you grew up in. No one knew where you grew up there except Hakoda, and you liked it that way. In complete fairness to you, it wasn’t your entire identity since your mother was from the Earth Kingdom, and you only spent the first seven years of your life there. But that didn’t mean it hurt any less when he tore apart the only things you dearly loved as a child.

Toph sensing your discomfort as you didn’t join in their amusement, she swiftly diverted the conversation into a new direction. While you were grateful, the thought of being in his presence any longer made you want to cry. It clearly didn’t work either as he continued to joke around about the food and other small things he picked up about the nation throughout their journey. Silently finishing up, you didn’t say a word or even give a half-hearted smile as they all laughed. Placing your bowl in the sink, you headed straight to your room.

The actions made everyone at the table confused, yet no one spoke out about it. Afterall, no one really knew you personally, nor did they understand what caused you to cut your interaction with them so short. Sokka himself became particularly curious. Afterall just like you, he heard many great things about you from his father, admiring your kindness and work ethic from afar. So, to say he wasn’t hurt that you chose not to stay longer or even crack a genuine smile, would be a lie.

Making it to your room, you took out any piece of paper or a scroll you used for your plans and began to pour out your pain onto to pages until you passed out from exhaustion. Not caring what contents were on the other side, you allowed yourself to be unfiltered.

You knew Sokka didn’t mean any harm; everyone laughed. He became the light you oh so desired to witness for yourself. Deep down, you knew you would have laughed too if it weren’t for the fact that he took the few happy memories you had with your father and set it on fire. A fire that produced the light you wished to see… but it seemed it wasn’t in the right way you hoped for.

I felt all flushed with fever, embarrassed by the crowd I felt he'd found my letters and read each one out loud I prayed that he would finish, but he just kept right on

You sighed as you finally finished fixing the pipes in the lower decks of the ship, once again tired and done with today’s work, you went to the mess hall for a late dinner.

“Hey Hakoda, I finished the plumbing problem so no one on the second floor should have any troubles now.”

“Thanks, y/n! You really are such a valuable person in this team. You’re always making sure everything is up and running.”

“Of course! What would you do without me? After all, let’s not forget how I spend my free time with your invasion plans.” You joked.

Turning your back to him to scoop some food onto your plate, he spoke up from behind you. “Oh right! That reminds me, I mentioned your ideas to Sokka earlier, and he seemed to really like them! But Sokka being Sokka, he got so excited over them and asked so many questions I didn’t even know how to respond. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know he’s probably at your desk analysing all of your scrolls right now. That kid never seems to be able to contain his excitement.”

“Yeah, that’s oka-“abruptly, you dropped your plate as your brain processed the information. If he was looking at your plans, then that meant……

Not even giving the Watertribe chief another glace or end to your response, you ran. Taking the fastest route to your room, everything in your mind and your surroundings became blurred, and you became hyper-focused on the fact that Sokka probably found what you wrote about him. Desperately trying not to cry as you bumped into people in the hallways, you couldn’t think of anything worse to happen in this very moment. The very idea of him knowing how you felt about him as well as how his words affected you made you want to scream. Maybe if you got there in time, he wouldn’t have read enough to understand your feelings fully. But when you bust through your door, it was too late. Sokka stood near your desk, with all the scrolls you ever wrote on scattered around the room. Some lay on your bed, the floor, across the desk, and even one in his hands.

“M- my dad said that you had a lot of perfect ideas for the invasion. B- but I- I found… I never thought…” His eyes never met yours as he continued to read the current scroll in his hands.

You slowly approached him, not caring as you walked over every word you wrote on the floor. “Sokka…” You silently begged him to stop reading, unsure of its contents.

He kept reading clearly in shock at the words before him, “why didn’t you s-say something?”

You sighed, somewhat unsure of how to approach the situation. “It’s not my place –“

He threw the scroll to the ground, finally looking up at you with bloodshot eyes as tears streamed down his face. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT’S NOT YOUR PLACE Y/N! It is your place! You had… no, you HAVE every right to say something! You sat there that night as I picked away at every single thing you ever loved, and you didn’t say a thing! Why would you let me do that to you!” Sobs wracked his body, falling to his knees in front of you. Torn apart on the inside about how much he hurt you. He never wanted this to happen, not just because of his small crush on you- that didn’t matter at this very moment. The very idea that he hurt someone who was so kind and selfless as a person, ruined him.

Beginning to feel immensely guilty for his current state, you knelt down to his level. Placing your hands to his wrists, you gently moved his hands away from his face. “Sokka… hey, Sokka look at me…”

As he looked at you, you struggled to keep your composure as tears began to fill your own eyes.

“It’s okay. What you said hurt, I don’t need to explain that for you to know it. Even though it felt like a small dig into who I am as a person and what I grew up to love, it’s true. What the Fire Nation did, what they are doing is awful, but I can’t speak up to defend them. I am in many ways apart of them. I grew up there, I celebrated their holidays, cooked and ate their food, and read their folktales. As much as I hate what the words ‘Fire Nation’ symbolises to the rest of the world, to you, it’s a part of who I am. No one can take that away from me, not even myself. Despite how much it hurt me, I can’t get mad at you or anyone because your feelings, and everything you said, is valid.” Moving his arms out of your grasp, he wrapped himself around you, holding you close to his chest.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve to hear that, you’re amazing y/n. You deserve to be treated with the kindness and love you give to everyone on this ship. I’m sorry. I was wrong. I’m going to be better, I promise. I promise.” Overcome with emotion, the tears you tried so hard to hold back burst at his words.

Strumming my pain with his fingers (one time, one time) Singing my life with his words (two times, two times) Killing me softly with his song Killing me softly with his song Telling my whole life with his words Killing me softly with his song

Neither you nor Sokka bothered to move from your intertwined embrace on the floor of your room. You were both a sobbing, crying mess. The pain from both of you suffocated the air around you as you cling onto one another for forgiveness.

Forgiveness for being from the very place that caused him so much pain.

Forgiveness for being unable to embrace so much of who you are.

The pain was unrelenting as he weaved his fingers through your hair, shifting so your noses’ and foreheads against one another as he whispered words begging for forgiveness. Wishing, praying, to the Spirits he could take it all away. Sokka’s heart burns from the raging pain that has awoken inside of him. He doesn’t stop running his fingers through your hair almost as if he can stroke away the broken pieces inside of you, looking for new ones underneath so he can start again. Because despite his resentment for where you came from, he knows that to him, you are like a divine angel. You both have your own complex and conflicting backgrounds of life, but he has a desperate desire to care for you in a way he will never be able to explain.

You wanted to lie to him. Say it didn’t hurt, say you could forget. You could do it easily, but you wouldn’t. Knowing you both suffered enough, you didn’t want to do something that could potentially cause each other more pain. This was enough. As you both continued to cry, holding one another with his hands still in your hair, you leant back slightly, bringing a shaky, tender hand to his cheek.

Looking up into his eyes, it’s awfully evident how much pain swims in his beautiful shades of blue. Yet, there seems to be an unspoken understanding as you see a small glimmer behind all the tears. The light you have been yearning for. He sees it in your eyes too. Neither of you can change or take back what’s already been said, but in this very moment there’s hope. You know you can move forward and heal together.

“We’re going to be okay.”

A/N: hi friends!! I hope you liked this one 😊

TO THE TAGLIST: hi all! i was a bit torn on what to do here because i wasn’t sure if you all only wanted to be tagged in my zuko series or my other works as well?? so im so sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged in this so please just let me know if you’d only like to be on the list for the series, zuko, sokka or other characters in general :)

TAGLIST: @slythergirlimagines​​ @mangoberry43​​ @eridanuswave​​ @whiskeywinter89​​​ @kaylove12​​ @simplyfandomish​​ @khaleesi-of-assassins​ @callums-keith​ @ilovespideyyy​ @calciumcow​ @blackhood5sos​ @nnon-it-up​

#sokka #sokka x you #sokka x reader #sokka x y/n #sokka imagine #sokka fic #sokka fanfic #atla #avatar #avatar: tla #avatar the last airbender #toph x you #toph x reader #katara #aang #avatar fic #avatar fanfic #y/n #killing me softly #pls dont let this flop #prince zuko #zuko #zuko x #sokka fluff #sokka angst

[thelightofthingshopedfor]

Goddamn it Kyra I wasn't even interested in the Lego Lokis before, but now that you've so rudely posted pics of the options I'm probably going to have to buy some. So, couple questions: I'm not familiar with the website you linked to (it doesn't help that I'm on my phone lol) - do you get them from that site or just Aliexpress? I've kind of poked around there but I don't think I've ever actually bought anything - do you have links to those ones you bought or any tips for finding them on the site? (or like. using the site in general without getting scammed or something? Idk much about it other than stuff being low priced lol).

😇😇😇

putting the rest behind a cut because oops this got long

OKAY SO the cool thing about knockoff Lego figures is that a) there are a ton of them, so you can probably find multiple versions of most characters, and b) they're super cheap, so if you do end up getting ripped off, you're probably only out a few bucks. plus if you don't get ripped off, you feel like a genius, because authentic Lego minifigs tend to cost way more than they should (and if you get them online, you probably don't have a good way to know that they're authentic) and here you are getting something just as good or better for way less.

the site I was getting pictures from is HeroBloks, which I only just discovered myself a couple days ago; it looks like mostly it's good for tracking your collection (and learning more about bootleg Lego minifigs in general, maybe--I didn't really realize until now how many different companies there are making Lego-like minifigs) rather than buying, with individual pages including sale links that are only mildly useful. like, the extremely sad TVA Loki has an AliExpress search link that apparently just searches for "blocks," which is the least helpful search term imaginable; the eBay link uses "xinh+xh1745+loki (tva)" as the search term and that's definitely better, although it doesn't actually turn up anything. maybe that one's too new to be widely available yet, I don't know. (I hope that's the case. I need him and his sad little face to come and live with me.)

anyway--eBay is a possible source. searching for "loki minifigure" gets me results for several of the new ones I’ve been seeing, and they all seem to be shipping from Japan or South Korea. the problem is they're all selling for $4.99 plus $7.49 shipping each, which is...more than I want to spend on something I know is a knockoff of some kind when I don't know anything about the quality control and I'm not guaranteed to get what's in the picture. (here's another listing asking $40 total for all 8 figures I bought yesterday, which is actually a better price, and I'd probably end up doing that if I hadn't found them elsewhere, but that's because I have a problem.)

this is why I like AliExpress, because the risks are slightly higher but the prices tend to be much lower, even with shipping prices having gone up a bit over the last couple years. as I understand it, the site is basically just a huge marketplace for tons of different sellers in Asia, like if eBay only allowed fixed-price listings and it was based in China. the vast majority of the site reads like it went through Google Translate, because it probably did. you can find...basically anything there. I have no idea if any of it's authentic. (I also don't know anything about how or where any of the knockoff stuff is made, so...there is that.) I would not, for instance, drop $300 on a Hot Toys Loki from here, even though I absolutely would have the option to do so, for the obvious reason that I'm not going to risk that much money on an item that might be a cheap knockoff or could arrive broken. there is, in general, a solid possibility of breakable things arriving broken, because decent packaging costs more. cheap shipping will be slow (by which I mean like...up to 90 days), and most purchases either won't have tracking at all or won't have accurate tracking, so this is absolutely not a place to buy anything you want to get quickly. you also don't want to just buy something and forget about it, because there are (variable but generous) time limits past which you can't get a refund if you don't receive your items. the site's UI is...mostly functional. you often have to get a little creative with your search terms to find what you want (and sometimes you won’t find what you want through searching, but through looking at related items on the pages of things that aren’t quite what you want or are what you want but aren’t a good price). you will, absolutely, come across a lot of stolen art on things like pins, t-shirts, stickers, and phone cases, which you might not realize until you see something you recognize from a fanartist you like, and obviously that sucks. listing photos are nearly always stock photos, so in many cases they won't tell you anything about the item you're actually getting. you know the Wish app, and all the crazy things people get from that? you can find all the same stuff on AliExpress, at similar levels of quality.

however, if you approach it keeping all that in mind, it can be a great resource. I can't make any guarantees about the site's safety, but to the best of my knowledge it's secure and I've never had any weird charges show up after buying something. it's also my understanding that Alibaba, the parent company, is more or less the Chinese equivalent of Amazon in terms of the amount of business it does, which would probably be pretty tough if customer data were routinely being exposed to thieves, you know? I've also successfully gotten several refunds for items that never arrived, which actually hasn't happened all that often--but knowing that it can happen and that the return period expires, I’ll check back on the site if it seems like it’s been an unusually long time and I’ll make a reminder for myself of the deadline so I can contact the seller in time if necessary.

so the way I shop there is, I don't buy expensive or fragile things in general, because I recognize there's a nonzero chance I'll get a cheap knockoff, or something that was broken in transit because the seller tossed it in a box with no padding and called it good, or sometimes nothing at all. but like eBay, the sellers and items have ratings and reviews from customers, so that helps avoid some risk. items with lots of reviews tend to include at least a few customer photos, which are great for getting a better idea of what the thing you're buying actually looks like. I took a bit of a risk last year buying a Hot Toys (or the equivalent, I actually have no idea) Steve Rogers head for about $20, for instance, but I wasn't super worried about it because the customer photos looked good, the seller I used had a lot of sales and a lot of good ratings, and it was still a lot less than I would've paid for an authentic Hot Toys Steve Rogers head--and in fact he got here just fine and he looked fantastic. I also spent about $20 for a knockoff Iron Studios Loki statue, because in that case it was like...yep I’d love the real thing, nope I’m not willing to spend hundreds of dollars on it, yep I am willing to spend $20 on something that doesn’t look quite as nice but still looks good enough for me in the customer photos. well, and I’ve also bought knockoffs I knew would look bad, because they were cheap and I want all the Lokis and I have enough of an addiction that all the Lokis does in fact sometimes mean “even ones that look really bad” to me.

anyway, uh, Lego-type minifigs. this is an especially good area to go knockoff, because--okay, apparently I can’t link to a page of HeroBloks search results for some reason, but it’s the best resource I’ve found for this type of thing that isn’t just authentic Lego figures. but if you go there and do a search for “loki” you’ll get a bunch of results and you’ll see that they come from like...9 or 10 different brands. Lego specifically has only four Loki options: Avengers Loki in black, Avengers Loki in gray for some reason (which, frankly, looks like a cheap knockoff but isn’t), movie-inaccurate Ragnarok Loki with the blue outfit and the full helmet, an ugly Classic Loki, and a mostly green Loki from I guess the first Thor movie (and then I think they’re going to release a TVA Loki, a Sylvie, and a Throg). all those other results--all those different outfits from every single Loki appearance, and different variations on those outfits, nearly all of them more screen-accurate and/or detailed than the Lego versions--are technically knockoffs. they’re better and you can buy them for way less. (I mean, a lot of them are new so I don’t have them yet, but I do have frost giant Loki, better Ragnarok Loki, better Avengers Loki, opera Loki who actually has another face that’s half-Jotun, and at least one chrome-helmet option, and they all look basically like the photos. so I think I can reasonably expect most of the new ones to look basically like their photos too.) 

for reasons that I don’t understand aside from a vague guess that it’s copyright-related, AliExpress pretty much no longer shows full pictures of Lego-type figures in their listings--instead, you have to pick just based on the heads. this is a problem when lots of heads look very similar to each other! luckily, the listings also typically have the actual serial numbers for each figure, as do the HeroBloks listings, so you can cross-reference them to see what you’re really getting. for instance let’s take this listing because it’s cheap and it offers most of the Loki figures that are currently available. say you’re interested in one of the horn-less Lokis. there are...let’s see, five of them, but you have no idea what they actually look like aside from slightly different facial expressions and maybe weapons. however, the first one listed says XH1359 for its color...and what do you know, 1359 is the serial number for this Loki by a company called Xinh. okay cool, how about the last one? the “color” is listed as WM2182--and yes, HeroBloks has a listing for a Ragnarok Loki from World Minifigures with the serial number 2182. (I just ordered all 8 of the new World Minifigures ones yesterday, so again, I can’t personally guarantee yet that they’ll look as good in person as in the pictures--but I think they probably will, and more importantly they cost a whole dollar each.) and if HeroBloks doesn’t have a particular figure, you can probably find something useful just by googling the serial number.

I specifically bought from this listing yesterday because they currently have a bit of a sale going and a deal for free shipping if you buy 10 figures, and I wanted a couple duplicates, so it worked out to be the cheapest option. the same store has another listing for a bunch more Marvel characters, including a couple more Lokis I already had, so it should be pretty easy to get the free shipping so the figures are less than a dollar each and you’re only risking about $10. if you’d rather try one or two and see how it goes, it looks like this listing is probably the cheapest, with figures currently going for a little over a dollar each once you add shipping (although it’s totally possible shipping is more for me because Alaska).

that’s...probably already way more information than you really wanted, but I hope at least some of it makes sense. feel free to ask other specific questions if they come up--I might not be able to give answers exactly, but I can probably tell you what my experience has been, which is better than nothing.

#loki #action figures #lego #marvel cinematic universe #conversations #scintillatingshortgirl19

[emilx311]

Life Update

Hey all, so I pretty much vanished off the internet for the past few months (whoops sorry about that) but things have been crazy irl! Here’s a bit of a summary for those who were wondering what happened to me:

So, for context sake a few fun facts about me. I work as a night auditor at a hotel and have done so since August 2019, I graduated Uni with a degree in Justice Studies in 2018, and I have several minor but chronic health issues that lead to me being very low energy-ie having less spoons than a normal person and needing more sleep.

Aside from the issues already inherent with 2020′s....everything we had several more personal issues at my (I say my because I work there) motel. Mainly around staffing, and especially around night audit staffing.

Since I was hired we’ve gone through 5 or 6 other night auditors (I think? maybe more). And they often.....quit with barely any notice. So, being our only consistent night auditor I’ve been called in last minute several times over the past year leading to 6 or even 7 day weeks. (Not Fun!)

Even when we have had another trained night auditor with us they often also do day shifts since we only need them for 2 nights a week. Turn over for day-shift people has been barely lower than turn over for night shift, which has led to them having to be called in last minute to cover day shifts when people left which means I also had to be called in last minute to cover the night shifts they were no longer able to do, leading to us all working 6 or even 7 day weeks (Super Not Fun!)

In summary: I’ve worked more overtime days than I have had vacation days in this last year. Heck, the last time I tried to go on vacation for like 5 days I got called in every other day and my boss (our regional manager) paid me double for the shifts I worked and refused to touch my vacation pay because even he acknowledged that was in no way a real vacation at that point (this was at the beginning of September btw...)

This was all compounded when our general manager (gm) left in late July. Her reason for leaving was super fair since she got a better job offer, similar pay to what she was making, less work since she would no longer have to do all the duties our boss should have been doing but was instead pushing off unto her. Super sad to see her go but wished her the best (still miss her) :(

This left our under manager (gsm) and me as the main people in the hotel (ie those who have been there the longest, only the gsm and housekeepers had been there longer than I had at that point-and I had not even reached my 1 year yet). Which, not super great, but the other people we had were okay so we would manage. So the gsm and I held things together and started basically running the hotel (shout out to the gsm here because I love her and she is actually like 5 years younger than me but has accomplished so much more, I am in constant awe of her tbh). Our boss (who is....kind of dumb sometimes) realized this. We became his golden girls (he plays favorites hard).

It is at that point that someone above our boss’s level in the company (he’s in charge locally, but we do belong to a large corporation, ah capitalism) hired disaster #1 as our first new gm. Disaster #1 was creepily cheerful and utterly dismayed to find out his job actually involved him doing work! Like working at the front desk during his shifts and doing manager stuff instead of it just being him sitting in the back looking important and giving us encouragement occasionally. He payed no attention to his training. He did very little of his basic work let alone the manager stuff. He took credit and praised “the team” whenever something went right and pushed blame off him unto everyone else as hard as he could when something went wrong (I once pointed out he forgot to do something and he legit said to me “can you prove it was me?” I said “yes” very firmly.)

Now, as the auditor my job is to spot, point out, and fix errors. He hated coming in to to work after me because I spotted and pointed out everything he missed or did incorrectly. At first just because I happened to notice them. Then it became personal, he cornered me one morning at shift change and told me that he dreaded coming in to work after me because I was always so critical, and he had so much to do during his shifts other than just front desk stuff (he did not, most of the “manager” stuff he was even trained in doing at this point he shoved off unto the gsm) he then disparaged the gsm. I was done, I was pissed (you do not say mean things about my gsm, nope, not okay, I will cut and slab you*) and kind of hurt (why are you taking my corrections as personal attacks? Why are you saying I’m mean for doing my job?) So, if he wanted to make it personal I decided to make it personal and made it my mission to find and point out everything he did wrong, no more overlooking small things as I had been. The pressure of actually having to work made him quit (shocking, not!).

It was also around this time that I signed up for an LSAT prep course. Because I hate myself and now that I’ve been working for a couple years and have some money saved up I want to follow through on my plan to get either a Law Degree or a Masters Degree and so am working on taking the LSAT and applying to law schools. No, studying has not been going well, time and energy have also been preventing that.

Fast forward a couple months and 2 of our best employees went on holiday (one they had scheduled months before). It’s the start of January, they will be gone for two months. In that time our boss had hired our next gm, idiot #2. Just as these two leave the other front desk person we’d been training quits with no notice. We are short staffed....again (yay more 6 and 7 day weeks, ack). To fill in this gap our boss brings in idiot #3 from one of the other 2 hotels in the area our company owns.

Idiot #2 is semi okay, he is not manager material, even months after he was hired to be gm he does not have the training and is basically just a front desk agent. He is bad about doing things himself unless you specifically direct him to with very clear instructions, but he can do the minimum (although he failed the coffee test. After idiot #1 I wrote out very, VERY specific instructions for how to clean our coffee station....he is not able to follow them. The gsm and I joked about the coffee test after I first wrote the instructions, that someone actually failed it....we despair). So, he does not think ahead, do any extra, or solve many problems but at least he rarely creates problems.

This brings us to idiot #3. I do not know what goes on in his head (very little likely) but man oh man. Some examples: the time he-after being asked like 4 times-actually sign off on the checklist after cleaning the laundry room (as everyone is supposed to once a shift) but did so in sharpie instead of one of the many dry-erase markers left around the front desk for no other reason than the clearly laminated sign off sheet. Or the time he decided on his own to give someone a satisfaction refund, far larger than it should have been (which only managers and those with special permission can do in any of the hotels, so he should know better but somehow....)

We have a book for front desk to write messages on about issues for the next people. Usually we have a note or two on any given day. Pretty much every day he worked it was full and even going onto the next page. Idk how, it’s like he touched something and issues sprung up. and Guess who got to be the one to fix all of them (woooo).

For the past few weeks I have had 2 days a week where the only people who worked were me and idiots #2 and #3. It’s been horrible. In addition, my days off were changed for these months so I haven’t been able to meet my one bubble inclusive friend to vent like we usually do once a week, because that time no longer fit in my schedule. I have been living in exhaustive hell for the past couple months, and even before that as I tried to lighten the gsm’s load as much as I could as she took on a lot of the gm stuff. My house is a mess, tbh my life is a mess because work has left me so tired and stressed that I basically get home, shower, collapse onto bed, read a bit, sleep, wake-up, find some sort of food, get ready for work, go to work, and repeat. Even on my days off I’m sleeping 75% of the time and resting to try and shore up my spoons (of which I already have fewer than most people) to get through the work week.

tl;dr Due to ridiculousness I ended up unofficially co-running a hotel and it’s sucked up so much of my energy that all my free time is pretty much spent sleeping just to ensure I’m able to get through my work weeks semi-functionally. Everything about my life has been a mess, to the point where I’m legit not sure how I’ve been keeping myself fed, clean, on meds and just generally....alive.

#personal #emi says #life update #about my 2020 and early 2021 #it's been hell #and not for the usual reasons #no #I'm not okay #but that's fine #that's pretty normal at this point tbh

[fwoopersongs]

何必诗债换酒钱 - Notes

Clean version here and thoughts under the cut.

I saw the song translation notes made by @shelterfromrain​ a while back and thought, wow! what a fantastic idea it is to share the results of the rabbit holing (that you inevitably end up engaging in when doing this) and leave a record for your future self while at it too! Currently some of the song and poetry translations on fwoopersongs do have little notes, but those were casually written on the fly and after so long, the thought process behind certain choices often get forgotten, which is such a waste... Long story short - I’m doing it this way from now on!

This song was requested by @peerlesssqq on twitter - which may or may not have bumped it up by like a year on my list (yes, I’ve been sitting on it since 2018 and you’ll see why) - and I had WAY more fun than expected, so 谢啦 ~ It was a delight to receive your DM request. I was happy for days!

Some background: 《何必诗债换酒钱》 is the theme song of 【文定乾坤】- a collection of musical works that feature notable contributors to Chinese literature in ancient times, poets and the like. Oh, and I did notice that the MV on bilibili looks like it could be a promo for a webtoon or game. Who knows? I’ll be checking out the rest of the songs, that’s for sure!

The following part of this post will be my thoughts for first the title, then each section - the intro, verse 1 & 2 and the chorus, ending off with some final comments.

Disclaimer first though (otherwise later you read already then feel like beating me up): Everything in this post is only my interpretation of the song. I have quite limited familiarity with mainland literature and culture, so of course don’t expect much xD Here you’ll only find a story-loving banana who jiak-ed kantang too much in her youth and now regrets it a whole lot. 说好了哈 I’m pants at analysis, worse at Chinese, and am not at all good with words ok?

Title

So《何必诗债换酒钱》, let’s start off with the word here that’s unfamiliar to most of us:

诗债 | shī zhài or a debt of poems/poetry debt is a legit thing! - All you authors and artists out there might be familiar with it - It’s what you call the resulting debt when a poet promises to write something for another person but hasn’t done it yet. Procrastination has apparently always been the curse of content creators.

In fact, in the Bai Juyi’s poem that came up on the 诗债 baidu page《晚春欲携酒寻沉四著作先以六韵寄之》- possibly addressed to a friend he owes - he was complaining of illness, old age and writer’s block. But then oh, he goes on and then I passed by a party where they had drinks, and was quite up to my gills & totally out of it for some time, and THAT’S why I’ve done you dirty and owe you ever so many poems. I don’t really understand the last two lines but apparently he then offers to bring a drink for this person he’s talking to, mentions a wish to meet a winter goddess (????? pretty girl? or the snow? idk which), and starts reminiscing the times that were like a precious string of pearls they had singing at Yang Pass. Most likely farewells, but without context I just don’t get it. Anyway bribery and misdirection huh? I see what you did there bro, and I’m sure the person you attempted to distract saw it coming too...

何必 | hé bì, is a rhetorical question of Must you really? In the case of this word, 何 functions as roughly ‘is it that’ and 必 as ‘it must be so’.

换酒钱 | huàn jiǔ qián is of course, exchange for money to purchase wine.

‘Must you really promise poems in exchange for money to buy wine?’ then is the literal translation of 何必诗债换酒钱.

So here is the question: Is alcohol worth a poetry debt? Onwards to the answer!

Intro

生就诗骨 算来三百篇  Born and already a poet to the bones, (with) three hundred works counting up to now. 

浪掷秦淮长安 风流李杜王白  Spending lavishly in Qinhuai and Chang’an, free/unrestrained as Li and Du, Wang and Bai;

余下十分 便随意肩上担  whatever left is divided in ten parts, casually thrown over a shoulder

权作金玉铜板 相谢好人间  and taken for jade, gold and coin, a big thank you to this good world!

I interpreted the 生 in the first line as 天生 i.e. innate, natural born talent, so this first line describes someone born with a gift for poetry with ‘three hundred’ works to their name. Although... that three hundred should not be taken too literally, it’s more likely to be an allusion to collected works like the 16th century anthology of poems, Three Hundred Tang Poems. After all, Li Bai, Du Fu, Wang Wei and Bai Juyi are the most famous Tang Dynasty poets… and they were all name-dropped in the next line!

浪掷 | làng zhì was a new phrase for me, and means something like spending freely and lavishly or willfully wasted. Of course Chang’an was the capital during the Tang Dynasty and it was the world's most populous city at the time. One can only imagine how prosperous it must have been… and what fun things were there to spend your money on! The banks of Qinhuai river and that general area was once a gathering place for noble/wealthy families, scholars looking for a good time (and some say, the red light district xD). Though by Sui/Tang, that area was no longer doing as well due to political shifts. So the mental image I got from 浪掷秦淮长安 is of someone gallivanting through places of interest, from the bustling and prosperous to the dilapidated.

风流 | fēng liú is as always, hard to translate with no full equivalent in english. The feel it gives me ranges from, ‘cool, dashing bloke on a galloping horse with their cloak/robes/hair flowing elegantly in the wind’ to ‘pleasure seeking dandy who totally knows how to enjoy life, all the courtesans know him by courtesy name!’.

The third line started with 余下十分, which will not make any sense - why leftover? Divide what by ten? - until its put in context with the following:

Three hundred poems 算来三百篇 + 权作金玉铜板 pretend they are gold/jade/money (权作 | quán zuò just means to take one thing for another temporarily.)

The load thrown over the shoulder 肩上担

Spendthrift behaviour on tour 浪掷秦淮长安

The TITLE: bro so u wanna promise poetry in exchange for money to drink? why.

Let’s take those precious poems that can be exchanged for gold - a whole bagful of scrolls, and now I’m so rich I can scatter my money down the streets of entertainment districts and the capital! The very image of a 风流 poet, reckless and free spirited.

// Folks, please learn from this silly girl and do not read songs (or poems) line by line. They need to be appreciated at a distance, not one inch from your eyeballs.

Verse 1

两分与月 劳烦身前打点 Two parts to the moon, (may I) trouble you to take care of me while I’m alive.

哪处巍峨峰峦 当借我悬来观 Wherever there are majestic peaks and ranges, do lend me (your light) to hang and see by.

三分典高楼 好与长风赴宴 Three parts pawned for the tall building, good for attending the banquet alongside the wind,

遍寻可爱星子 唾手一把玩 searching for charming little stars, easily caught to play with.

Now we get to see how the poet is spending his ‘wealth’. This verse is a lot more literal as compared to the introduction, so there’s not much to say.

打点 used here is so interesting! Because it’s what you call bribing someone in a superior position to smoothen your path ahead (so to speak). Thanks to a childhood of tvb drama, I vaguely associate the type of people who would 打点 with rich merchant or minor noble fathers who want to give their sons an easier time at court. Either that or lower ranked officials with less moral scruples. Anyway, what’s being said in the song is something like: here is 20% dear moon, I’ll have to trouble you to bless me for the rest of this lifetime, and also please lend me your light to see by when I have need of it at scenic spots *for art*. The moon is a muse for many poets in all its forms after all… 明月, 圆月, 孤月, 残月, 冷月, 江月, 秋月 and so on.

Actually that whole sentence 劳烦身前打点 is so playful and fun that I put it in quotation marks to emphasize it. We’ve only just begun. Is the speaker already drunk?

And with the third line, 30% has been spent. Just noting here that 典 | diǎn can be read as pawn or mortgage. Another interesting thing to note would be that this imagery of ascending a tall building 高楼 and reaching out for stars 星子 in the last two lines of Verse 1 brings to mind one particular poem, famously attributed to Li Bai. Following translation by yours truly.

《夜宿山寺》- Overnight at the Mountain Temple 危楼高百尺 | dangerously towering a hundred feet high 手可摘星辰 | the stars are within reach 不敢高声语 | one dares not raise their voice 恐惊天上人 | for fear of disturbing the deities

Though the two probably have nothing to do with each other, doesn’t the reverence in the tone of this one bring out the playful irreverence of the other? So. Much. Fun. I adore the whole feel of 遍寻可爱星子 唾手一把玩 SO MUCH.

Verse 2

两分与桥 歇脚南北行船 Two parts to the bridge where travellers on foot and by boat from the north and south can rest,

欣然八方风物 闲话半日茶碗 delighted by the scenery all around, idly chatting half the day away over bowls of tea.

三分典流水 润色枯瘦石山 Three parts for the running water, moistening the gaunt stone mountains

又将天地一展 伸手 试浓淡 and again spreading heaven and earth wide, reaching out to test the viscosity (of the water).

It took a few listens, but in the end I really enjoyed the aesthetics here. And again, this verse is quite straight to the point albeit with two things I cannot understand.

The first point of confusion for me is why the lyricist chose to use 桥 | qiáo, a bridge as the place for people to rest on their journeys. I assumed here that this in reference to a pier or dock, assumed also that he is donating funds for this structure to be built or repaired. However, if that were the case 坞 | wù would have been enough - 船坞 was supposedly invented only in the Song Dynasty though, so maybe that’s why another word was chosen. But it’s not like there is any incidence of 桥 being used to mean ‘dock’ either!

The second thing that confuses me is the use of 典 for 流水. In verse one, that 典 was referring to the poetry works sold to reserve the venue for a banquet. That usage was apt. Here I suspect it might be for parallel structure, because there is no alternative reading for 典 that might allow one to use their 30% 三分 to do anything to flowing water 流水. That’s the literal reading, of course.

If we’re taking this a little less literally, it can be interpreted as borrowing the scenery (figuratively, since the place would not belong to anyone in the way you might own a property) to admire. It also expands on the second line’s mention of the surrounding view 欣然八方风物; there is running water which completes 润色 and brings the appearance of the gaunt and rocky mountains 枯瘦石山 closer to perfection.

润色 | rùn sè means to polish, to bring to greater heights. When you say something has been 润色 it is made more brilliant and closer to perfection by that addition. It can also mean moisten.

We always hear ‘rivers and mountains like a painting’ 江山如画 - originating from Su Dongpo’s《念奴娇·赤壁怀古》- used when the scenery is wonderful, because how often is real life as ideal as what we can imagine and depict? And that is exactly what is described here. The feeling out if the ‘water’ is concentrated or diluted 试浓淡 is used in answer to 一展 unfurling. 浓淡 of ink to 一展 of painting scroll. The land and sky seem like an ink wash painting, so beautiful that the viewer cannot help but reach out to run their hand through the water.

Chorus

Chorus Part 1

若趁游兴直到酣 If we take advantage of our wanderlust and go roaming till it is sated,

千字文章不值钱 classics and essays shan’t be worth a coin.

诗换花 词换雪 A poem for a flower! A song for snow!

再作檄文斗天官 Another denunciation for those heavenly officials!

Starting off with three new terms for me: 游兴 | yóu xìng means enthusiasm for travel. 酣 | hān can mean having a great time drinking, or being very satisfied and satiated. 檄文 | xí wén is a type of official document written for important announcements, declaration of war, or denunciation and condemnation of certain people or actions.

While I still feel this need to go out to see the world, I shall keep on the road until I am satisfied. Who cares about writing, who cares for study, it’s all worthless to me. I do what I want. And what I want is to write a little poem in exchange for a flower, some lyrics for a flake of snow. I’ll even write a denunciation against those officials in heaven (immortals). Fight me!!!!

I point again at Verse 1 with climbing the tower to play with stars. It’s no longer just playing nearby, now he wants a go at the gods.

Among the four parts of the chorus, this one is the simplest for sure. The lines mean exactly what is said. It also feels the most chaotic and mischievous. Is the speaker drunk? Is he high on something? One thing’s for sure. He’s out of money.

Chorus Part 2

何愁不得一样我 Why feel troubled that (I) cannot have another just like me?

知交尽向话中添 for one who understands you and is understood, look entirely towards stories to fill that place

唐解元 嵇中散 people like Tang Bohu (first in provincial examinations) and proud, upright and stubborn Ji Kang

且驰大梦任疯癫 Just chase that great dream, allow yourself to go mad.

I feel like the first two lines are quite straightforward, though they might not appear so on first reading: How could there be a need to feel sad or troubled that I have no like-minded equal. To find a true friend who understands you without need for words, and whom you understand in return, all you need to do is turn to those tales and stories 话中 for people to fill 添 that place.

唐解元 - People like Tang Yin, courtesy name: Bohu 唐寅, 字伯虎 (1470–1524 AD), noted painter, calligrapher and poet of the Ming Dynasty. Tang Yin led a life full of ups and downs that really cannot be covered in a paragraph’s worth of song translation notes. You can check out his wiki page if you’re curious though! There’s a little more on him where I cover the last line of this section. He is addressed as 解元 | jiè yuán here which is the term for the top scorer of the provincial examinations (second stage in the Imperial examination ladder). It is also an honorific for scholars. Tang Bohu is both.

嵇中散 - People like Ji Kang, courtesy name: Shuye 嵇康, 字叔夜, (223–262 AD), one of the Seven Sages of the Bamboo Grove - a group of friends who wisely kept themselves aloof from the dangerous politics of the Court, and devoted themselves to art, refinement and debate, of the Three Kingdoms period. He was a Daoist philosopher, musician, writer and poet.  

An accomplished musician, the qin composition 廣凌散 | guǎnglíng sàn is attributed to Ji Kang, though some versions of the story claim he learned it from a ghost while stopping at a pavillion on his way home. 嵇中散 was one of the names he was known by because of his appointment to the position of Attendant Counsellor, 中散大夫 | zhōng sàn dàfū, a civil official unspecified duties in the court of Cao Wei.

When Ji Kang was sentenced to death for his attempt to testify for a wrongly accused friend, three thousand scholars petitioned for his pardon to no avail. It’s said that at the execution ground, while they waited for the appointed hour, he had his favourite qin brought out and played a brilliant interpretation of Guanglin San that is now forever lost.

Do go read about them both if you have the time!

I would like to point out for the last line that 任 is to allow, to indulge, and it’s just such a heady sensation to say 任疯癫 - indulge in the madness! throw yourself in and don’t look back!

There is an easter egg here too. A nod to a poem by Tang Yin which can be read as his stance on his lifestyle choice after the alleged accusations of bribery in the final step of the Imperial examinations left him disgraced, and unable to pursue a civil career. Thematically the line does not call back to the poem at all, similarities end with the choice of words: chasing the dream 驰大梦 and indulging madness 任疯癫.  I leave an excerpt below. Translation again by me.

《桃花庵歌》- Song of a Plum Blossom Cottage // 若将花酒比车马 | if tawdriness and wine were compared against fine carriage and steed 他得驱驰我得闲 | he would have to drive and work hard for speed whilst I have my idle rest 别人笑我太疯癫 | others mock me for my madness 我笑他人看不穿 | i am amused for they do not perceive 不见五陵豪杰墓 | can’t you see that at the Emperors’ mausoleums and heroes’ graves 无花无酒锄做田 | there are no flowers, no wine, only land ploughed for farming

The second part of the chorus isn’t related to the first, but it has the same theme of showcasing the untamable (unhinged xD) spirit of the speaker. This time, the people he admires ‘intellectual equals’ and kindred spirits are featured, the 任性 feeling here has been pushed to greater heights.

Chorus Part 3

敢夸洒落何须酒 If one dares to boast of carefreeness, why, they hardly need wine.

不煮黄粱也称仙 Even without brewing millet they would still be called Immortal.

镜湖桌 白梅盏 The tables in the mirror-like lake, white plum blossoms in the cups,

等来春风恰开宴 await the spring breeze which arrives just in time for the feast to start!

Li Bai is regarded as both the god of poetry 诗仙 and god of drunkards wine 酒仙 because he wrote some of his greatest poems while drinking. The first two lines seem to be gently poking fun at that. Like hey, if you dare to claim to be all groovy, surely you have no need for alcohol? Just like how an immortal would still be an immortal without wine, your writing talent should not need any stimulants. This would be the time to mention that 黄粱 | huáng liáng is also known as millet, a type of grain that can be used to brew wine.

洒落 | sǎ luò has a few meanings, like shower down or blame, but the relevant one here would be 洒脱 generous, uninhibited and open. For me it feels similar to 风流 in that there is that ‘free, and exhilaratingly unrestrained’ element. 洒落 is in the most positive sense, being always open to having a good time, but without that dissolute or vaguely whirlwind-romance like connotation of 风流.

It feels like the intensity is letting up a little here - this is a light-hearted and frivolous song all the way through, but the words 洒落, 称仙 and imagery of a clear lake, white plum blossoms and the crisp spring breeze are grounding and sweet. Spirited in a different way from before.

Chorus Part 4

四角天地也醺然 The four corners and heaven and earth are also tipsy,

醉极自有桃李搀 when I’ve overindulged, my students will be there to help.

快意只 笔下讨 Gratification can only be claimed from beneath the brush;

何必诗债换酒钱 is falling into poetry debt worth that money for drink?

New words: 醺然 | xūn rán just means drunk. A new word for me though! 桃李 | táo lǐ is literally peach 桃 and plum 李 (李花, also known as 玉梅) flowers, and is a metaphor for students. The term originates from a story in 《韩诗外传》which was set in the Wei Kingdom of the Spring and Autumn period (771 to 476 BCE). There was once a highly ranked official who was sacked from his post and left for the north. He met another gentleman and remarked that the people he helped before did not lift a finger when he was in need. This person replied that, if someone were to plant peach and plum trees in spring, he could relax under their shade in the Summer and taste their fruit in the Autumn. But if that person were to plant weeds, nothing can be done with their leaves in Spring and there would only be burrs to hurt himself on in Autumn. Clearly the people the unfortunate gentlemen had helped before were not worth his effort. Students ought to be carefully selected and carefully cultivated as one would a tree.

Reading the four corners and heaven and earth 四角天地 are also tipsy 也醺然, I imagine the world sort of spinning around the speaker because he is drunk. But that’s okay, because his students (or the trees xD) will be there to support him.

快意 | kuài yì is the feeling of sudden relaxation, and then lightheartedness and joy. In this line, I felt like the intention would be closer to 畅快，爽快 and so chose gratification, because really writing is like scratching an itch isn’t it? Pleasure from satisfaction of a desire. Phrasing it as 笔下讨 is so very fitting though, because 讨 can be interpreted - somewhat contradicting - as either to demand or to beg. What could be more gratifying than having squeezed out the perfect sentence or word under your figurative pen?

So so so after all that, 何必诗债换酒钱? What do you think, is alcohol worth the poetry debt? Is Mr. Poet actually drunk and about to dig himself a deeper hole of owed poems to get even MORE drunk, or has he just been thinking about it all along? :)

Thoughts

This has been such a fun adventure following our madcap big spender from the shining Chang’an to the inviting Qinhuai, shadow of great poets in tow and all. We’ve done everything from talking to the moon and seeing the sights by her light, to boating down a river, dragging fingers through the water. It was sort of like being on a backpacking tour, except with with someone contemplating opening (or perhaps regretting opening this can of worms?) poetry commissions instead of singing in the streets?

Dear reader, if you’ve reached this point of my post, thank you. I hope you enjoy the song as much as I do now!

#何必诗债换酒钱 #translation notes #i made a new years resolution and this is step one #i had so many more things to say lol but it's like 1 am and i need to go to bed #this took way longer than i thought it might

[purplesurveys]

1141

survey by lets-make-surveys

1 - Do you have a favourite day of the week? What is it about that day that you like so much? I feel like I just answered this recently, but let’s go with Friday again. Always nice to fade out after work and to finally close all my work tabs and chats, and not feel obligated to reply to anyone for a couple of days.

2 - Would you describe yourself as a sociable person or not? I’m not the most sociable person, like I don’t always have the energy to be at the maximum level of perky, but I am to an extent. I no longer find it difficult to approach people and strike up a conversation.

3 - Who was the last person you spoke to out-loud? What did you speak to them about? My mom. My former director, Ysa, sent me a scented candle earlier tonight - as a parting gift since she got promoted and got reassigned to my employer’s sister company - and I just asked my mom to light the candle up because I’m scared of matches and fire.

4 - Do you prefer tea or coffee? Coffee; I never drink tea.

5 - What's your ideal weather? When was the last time you had that kind of weather where you live? Any kind of weather where the temperature is anywhere below 25ºC (which is already considered quite chilly here) is fine with me.

6 - Who was the last person (apart from family) that you spent time with? What did you get up to? Does virtual count? I had a Jeopardy night on Zoom with my orgmates a couple of weeks ago. I might miss out on a couple of people, but I was with Peter, Elis, Andi, Carmel, Robin, Laurice, and Mik. Apart from that, my uncle treated me, my kuya, and my cousin Luke to lunch the morning after said Zoom call.

7 - If you have pets, when was the last time one of them got on your nerves? Oh my god, just this afternoon. I was in a Zoom call with a client and besides our PR agency, there was another marketing agency in the call who was also pitching their presentation deck. The entire call was pure bliss on my end, no one was making noise at home – the second it came to my speaking parts, Cooper started howling and barking like crazy because idk, maybe he saw an animal outside or something?? In any case it suddenly got very loud and I got caught off-guard, and I ended up stuttering several times as I was trying to focus.

8 - Do you have to wear a uniform at work or school? If not, what do you tend to wear? The only time I had to wear a legit uniform was in private school, which I attended from preschool to high school. We do have business casual dress code at work, but that in itself is pretty flexible so I don’t really count it as a ‘uniform.’

9 - Would you rather live in a house with a swimming pool or an indoor cinema? Indoor cinema. I watch a lot of things that I’d love to be able to view with a much bigger screen - plus it’s a lot easier to maintain than a pool, lol.

10 - When was the last time you were at the beach? August 2019 :(

11 - Do you own a credit card? If so, do you currently owe any money on it? Could you afford to pay it off tomorrow if necessary? No. My parents also advise against getting my own credit card since I could pick up some bad spending habits from it, according to them. That sounds scary enough so I’m ok with my debit card.

12 - What do you tend to wear to sleep in? Does this vary depending on the time of year? Usually something light, short, and airy since I live in a tropical country that never gets to enjoy temperatures lower than like 23ºC.

13 - What do you tend to have for breakfast, if you eat it? Fried rice, hotdogs, and bacon strips are filling enough for me.

14 - If someone offered to cook you a three-course-meal of your choosing, no budget - what would you have? Oysters, filet mignon, and macarons.

15 - How many hours of sleep do you typically get each night? Is that enough to function or would you rather have more? Anywhere between 7–9 during weekdays, and like 3–4 during weekends because revenge bedtime procrastination is real. Yeah, I’d say it’s enough on both ends.

16 - Does your house have a loft/basement? Are they functional or do you just use them for storage? We have neither.

17 - When was the last time you did a load of laundry? Do you need to do some in the near future? I don’t do the laundry at home.

18 - Are you addicted to anything legal? What about illegal? I guess vaping? I’m a lot more reliant on it now versus the past few months, and I get a little restless whenever I have to charge it for an hour or so. 

19 - Do you suffer from road rage? What kind of thing tends to set you off or wind you up while driving? A little bit, but I obviously haven’t had to express it in a while because of my much-lessened time on the road due to Covid. Standstill traffic is the biggest factor, but standstill traffic + stupid drivers who are impatient and end up not following the road lanes is the quickest way to irritate me and set me off.

20 - What kind of animal did you last see in the wild? Is that a common sight where you live? I have no idea, and that’s precisely because I live in the suburbs in a city which would not make them a common sight.

21 - How is your hair styled at the moment? Low side ponytail.

22 - Do you post a lot on social media? If so, what kind of thing do you tend to post on there? Not as much as I used to. I’ll probably post 5–7 tweets (versus the 50+ I’d post when I was younger) and share like 1–3 Facebook posts a day. I could talk about pretty much everything on Twitter since that’s my main dump - be it rants, my feelings, what I ate, the latest dumb thing Cooper did, etc. On Facebook I mostly share memes, at least family-friendly ones that wouldn’t alert my relatives lol.

23 - What are you watching/listening to at the moment? Nothing for either. I can hear some birds chirping outside since it’s finally getting brighter again, but that’s it.

24 - If you have multiple pets, do they all get along with each other or are there sometimes fights/scuffles? Cooper has actually finally settled down a bit so I’m starting to feel more comfortable letting him out with Kimi in the same room/floor. He understands that Kimi doesn’t like being disturbed so even though he’s in the mood to run around and be energetic and play catch or whatever, he always takes the time to tip-toe around Kimi. They’re not best buds by any means, but it’s enough to leave them be and not worry about a fight breaking out anymore. Sweet boys.

25 - What are some habits you have in common with your parents? My dad excessively blinks when he’s feeling tense or in an argument; I ended up picking that up from him. With my mom, it’s mostly phrases or expressions that she likes to use.

26 - Where's your favourite place to swim - the ocean, a pool, river, lake etc? Beaches.

27 - When you're saving your place in a book, do you use a bookmark or fold your pages down? Or something else? I either remember the page number or do a tiny dog-ear. Bookmarks aren’t the right match for me lol, I’ll most likely end up losing them.

28 - What's your favourite kind of cereal? Sweeter ones.

29 - Is any part of your body hurting at the moment? Is there a specific incident that caused the pain? Yeah, my neck had actually been seriously stiff during my last shift and I couldn’t move my head unless I moved my entire body along with it. It’s died down now but I can definitely still feel the strain. My left shoulder in particular feels very strained at the moment and I’m feeling a considerable level of discomfort from it as I take this.

30 - What was the last thing to make you laugh out loud? 2 Days 1 Night, the usual. The Korean style of video editing is phenomenal and can literally make anything funny.

#survey #surveys

[rattlung]

sorry this took so long! it kinda got away from me after a bit (it’s like 6k words so i’m rlly hoping this read more works on mobile lmao) and turned into a lot of introspection, as my stuff often does when it comes to mirage for some reason. hope you enjoy :^) and ty for sending smth in

(yeah ik mystik keeping in contact through fuckin fan mail is a bit of a stretch especially since crypto mentions burning letters, implying communication through paper, but it was the only thing i could come up with and i didn’t want this to take longer than necessary. just kinda shrug it off because at this point - eh yknow??? the letter mirage comes across is based off the one crypto sends to mystik in the loading screen with him and gibby

also, i looked up a ton of different sites and even checked the wiki but i’m still nervous about crypto’s name and how to write it properly. if i’m still doing it wrong, please please PLEASE let me know. i will literally rewrite this entire thing lmao)

established relationship kinda idk and also set in a kinda canon divergent au where the games hold seasons that last a few months with set teams

----=----

Despite popular belief, Elliott was a smart guy. He lived and studied under his mother, an amazing engineer in her own right, and even had a huge part in the development of some of the tech he used in the arena. It’s just that, sometimes, even he forgot about his own intelligence. Standing next to his fellow legends, it was like any confidence he had left in one fell swoop. He would stutter under their gazes and second guess himself on anything he said the second he said it. It’s something he’d always berate himself on later when he’s alone in his dorm where no one could see him.

Because he was smart. He’d tell himself that when he looked at his own smiling face, as surrounded as he was by it. Apex merch, some fanart, some cutouts they had stood up in stores he’d been sent. Elliott would stare at it all and remind himself that Mirage in the media was who he was. He’d gotten to legend status on his own, and that wasn’t something to write off. He was as intelligent as the rest of them, he just needed to remember that.

Though, admittedly, it did take Elliott a good minute to realize that the message he’d been sent wasn’t for him.

But, in his defense, this wasn’t an issue that had ever come up before. After their breach that forced them to move planets, the Apex Team had taken extra precautions when it came to legends getting fan mail. Elliott hadn’t blamed them, but he still couldn’t help but raise a brow at the extent they went to. In his opinion, it was just, like, two steps above sending it in on paper the old fashioned way. Honestly, that would go faster, since that didn’t need to be scoured by security software. Sometimes the dates lagged by so much that Elliott would get things months after a someone sent it.

So, yes, it did require a few read through’s for him to parse what was going on in the small paragraph. To be fair, it had his name in it. Don’t act so pretentious, TJ, everyone knows who Mirage is. The rest of the message was written in the same way: to someone who wasn’t actually Elliott and from someone who’s seemingly exchanged letters with this “TJ” before.

Maybe the program was on the fritz, picked out Elliott’s alias and sent it over to his inbox. It was something worth mentioning to the higher ups, because that absolutely had to be a liability in their new safety protocols. But more importantly - and definitely the thing he was going to address first - who was this letter for? Who was TJ?

There were only a few options, as most of the legends had opted to come forth with their real names when signing up for the Games. Elliott knew Bloodhound still operated under a veil of mystery, but he doubted they could be TJ. From what he remembered when he walked passed their dorm - which was usually something he tried to do quickly, since the bird Hound kept in there with them seemed to like Elliott only a little more than it liked Pathfinder - they didn’t even have a computer set up. No contact to the outside world unless it was through interviews.

Wraith just recently came across her name, Elliott remembered. She’d mentioned it in passing before disappearing for a few weeks in an abrupt request for time off. Wraith never really talked to anyone, so it kind of made sense. Everyone needed someone to vent to, even if it was about Elliott. What could TJ stand for? Taylor Jenkins? Tanya Jones?

Tilly Junior.

But then again, it really could have been any of them. Elliott wouldn’t put it passed Caustic to be using a fake name. Any of them could be using a fake name, and he doubted going around and asking would get him anywhere. 

Elliott let the holopad slip onto the cushion of the couch he’d been lounging on, his head falling back to thump against the wall. Crypto would be able to help with the new mystery, that was at least something he was sure of. The amount of badgering and begging needed to actually get the hacker to relent and do any helping? Now that was unknown as well. 

In the months that the season encompassed, he and Crypto ended up getting closer than probably either of them would have liked - at least in the beginning. Elliott couldn’t imagine what he would have thought then if he was told that most of his nights out of the arena would be spent at the other’s side, in his dorm, Crypto fiddling with some of the tech Elliott had lying around as Elliott himself talked his ear off.

Crypto was a good listener, he found. It was something in the quiet he maintained around him, a whole lot different than, say, Bloodhound’s. Not that Bloodhound was cold and off-putting; it was more so like what Elliott imagined stepping into an ancient library would be like. Something about Bloodhound made anything above a whisper seem too loud, and out of respect for said library, Elliott left them alone.

And then there was that time Crypto had caught Elliott staring at him when he blasted Caustic with a Charge Rifle from about 300 meters away. The only thing he’d done was give Elliott that knowing smirk then followed it up with an honest to god wink. Elliott was gone after that. 

Things had changed in a steady progression. Instead of Elliott being the one to find him, Crypto would seek him out rather than hide away in his own dorm. When Elliott would invite him to his dorm, mostly joking, Crypto would surprise him by accepting. There wasn’t any verbal confirmation in the shift, though, and sometimes Elliott would worry about it, wonder if he was reading too much into things. Not that it was a big deal. He never cared much about labels, except when he really, really did.

But then Crypto would sometimes push Elliott against a wall in the downtime during the games while they were looting, or even when they were just hanging out. He’d silence ramblings by covering Elliott’s mouth with his own, and who was Elliott to tell him no? 

They were close, now, yes, but for as good as Crypto listened, he didn’t talk much. It was something Elliott attempted to change. He tried to get him to open up in various ways, but the longest he’s ever gotten Crypto to talk was when he asked about the Holo Gear Mirage used on the field. Even then, Elliott did most of the talking. He’d gushed about his mom, how she did a lot of the work and he handled more of the fine tuning, reminisced about their workshop, the long days they used to spent together. Elliott remembered picking up something different from Crypto, then, something almost sad. Like maybe he’d been missing something, too.

Elliott never got to ask about it. Crypto had retreated to his own quarters pretty fast after that. He was too confused to wonder what he’d done wrong, and the worry was put to rest before he ever actually got to worry about it at all when Crpyto sidled up next to him the next day right before the drop. The situation just reaffirmed that there was a lot that Elliott didn’t know, like what kept Crypto so quiet, who he thought about when Elliott talked about working with his mother, what he always seemed to be working on when he was alone.

Or his name, Elliott realized.

After a pause, he scrambled back into a sitting position and grabbed the holopad again. There was public information on every legend that signed up for the Games, but the last he’d checked there had been something wrong with the page dedicated to Crypto. It showed multiple different error codes that were random upon opening the page and sometimes it would even crash a browser entirely. Forums still existed, though, and Elliott would use that to his advantage.

Quietly, in the back of his mind, he felt guilty, felt like he was doing something he shouldn’t.

A lot of the threads were just talking about the recent games and Crypto’s happenings in them. They talked about his marksmanship, which was pretty impressive, Elliott had to say. It wasn’t until a few minutes of scrolling - spent looking through GIFs and videos of highlights, that he won’t admit to - brought him to a specific thread. The person who posted was wondering about the drone Crypto had in his possession, asking about its name, speculating on the model. The top comment on it claimed to have spent time behind the scenes on the Apex Games Production team and declared that the drone Crypto used had a lot of similarities to the ones they use to film the Games. 

The next comment didn’t exactly discredit the correlation, but they did say it was likely that the drone’s blueprint was leaked and got sold to another company, not Crypto having the clearance to use Apex equipment.

I doubt they’d let him have one of the official ones, with all the controversy surrounding them, the commenter said.

Elliott bit the inside of his cheek and narrowed his eyes in thought. It was a stretch, but it didn’t stop him from backing out of the forum and searching “apex filming drones”.

The first result wasn’t a link to the Apex Game’s website. It was another website with comment threads, its title “look what i found???”.

So, Elliott did.

i was doing some VERY LEGAL digging around, because i was wondering where the new guy came from and all that, but there’s literally NOTHING that isn’t hidden behind encrypted messes that would take like ten years to get through but when i tried, i got something on some dude named hyeon kim but when i went around looking for more i found this

??????

Below the post was a screenshot of an article from a news site called Outlands’ Journal. Elliott read it over, but the only thing he processed was “Disgraced computer technician, Tae Joon Park” and “Mystik, Joon’s former caretaker”.

And then, a little more down, was the comment, “Isn’t that the dude who’s wanted for murdering his sister or something?”

----=----

Despite popular belief, Elliott was a smart guy. In that moment, though, it really didn’t seem like a good thing.

----=----

The decision was one he made almost subconsciously: Elliott was not going to tell anyone what he’d found. 

How would anyone even believe it? Elliott was hardly sure he even believed it. Spoken out loud, it would seem like such a tin-foil-hat conspiracy, and it’s not like he could use the thread he’d found the information in to back the claim up. He’d checked it again when he woke the next day, wanting to make sure he hadn’t had some fever dream, but the entire thread had disappeared. Even the account it was posted from was wiped from the site. On a whim, he checked his history and went to the link directly, but that only got him an error page.

The code was something he remembered from Crypto’s buggy Legend profile.

Elliott had almost been late getting ready for the games, he sat there for so long and stared at it. Luckily, the turbulence that signified they were getting close to the closed off arena literally jolted him as a physical reminder. Elliott shook his head and stood, making his way over to the collapsible, garage-like door in order to pull it down.

Isn’t that the dude who’s wanted for murdering his sister?

He was almost regretful that he wanted to go looking for more information. What if Crypto was somehow able to track the searches that were relevant to the article? That could be how the thread was taken down so fast, how the account disappeared. Was that what he was doing all the time, bent over his computer? Working to hide what he’d done?

Why even join the Apex Games, a program that was widely broadcasted across planets? Wouldn’t he want to keep a low profile? How did he even get the clearance to sign up? The producers had run background check after background check when Elliott had been brought in for an interview. So his public intoxication got put under the microscope, but the murderer they let in for free?

And yet, that didn’t sound right, even when he thought it. Sure, yeah, they all technically participated in a blood sport - but the technically was heavily implied. No one actually ever died; sometimes bones were broken and people had to retire after a serious injury, but that was just about it. Everyone who signed up was capable of killing.

But capability of killing was different than cold blooded murder. At least in Elliott’s opinion.

He was just pulling on the last of his Holo Gear when the door rattled in its frame. “Pull y’self outta bed, we got a game to win!” 

“Door is closed for privacy,” Mirage berated.

Lifeline only cackled shortly before replying with, “I ain’t lookin’ at you, am I?”

Mirage pulled the door up so she could see his put-off pouting, which didn’t do much of anything besides getting her to laugh again. He followed her into the loading bay, passing Bloodhound and Wraith. They each gave him a respectful nod, always frighteningly eager to board their dropping platform. Still, Mirage responded with a courteous wink and two solid finger guns.

As the automated commentator announced the approaching drop zone, Mirage was suddenly very aware of the empty space beside him being taken up by another person. At first, neither of them said anything, but that was weird for him, so he had to say something, didn’t he?

“Fashionably late, as always,” he greeted, going for something half-joking, half-flirty. Honestly, he would proudly say he hit the mark, but Crypto didn’t say anything back. “Long night?”

Then, a too long second of silence fell between them as the dropping platforms began to hiss. Freezing air blasted, chilling his face, blowing his hair around, but it wasn’t the reason why his blood went cold in his veins. A voice went off in his head almost like an alarm. He knows, it said. He knows you found out. He knows.

“Always,” Mirage heard, just barely above the wind whipping between them. 

And it was stuff like that that made him felt immediately guilty for the fear he held just moments before. There was that haunted, pained tone that took hold of Crypto’s voice that Mirage always seemed to catch when he knew he wasn’t supposed to. Just like how he caught something like longing when Mirage had spoken of his mother. How Crypto’s empathy felt different than others when Mirage mentioned his brothers.

He didn’t talk often, sure, but Crypto couldn’t stop himself from expressing in some ways. Not around Mirage, not anymore.

Obviously, there was the possibility that Crypto had done something - that very specific something - but Mirage just couldn’t see it. He had that gut feeling, and following those types of feelings got him to where he was right then. Standing among Legends.

Legends, and Tae Joon Park.

----=----

It’s about a month of doing his best of forgetting what he’d uncovered when he realized a problem he’d overlooked. Elliott had already come to the conclusion that Tae Joon and Mystik were close, close enough to risk each other’s safety by maintaining their pen pal status. They kept in contact that way, so the fluke Elliott had gotten in his inbox was not the first letter that had ever been sent between them.

Which meant that Crypto was going to be expecting a letter from his former caretaker that Elliott didn’t know how to give him without starting a shit show.

Just another thing to add to the reasons he wasn’t getting sleep at night, because “doing his best to forget” was awfully hard. Tae Joon’s silences were just periods of dreadful anticipation to him now. Every time they were together and the tapping on Crypto’s keyboard would pause, Elliott would expect to look up to see Crypto already staring at him, glaring, asking him how long Elliott had known - 

But Tae Joon’s eyes would be on the monitor when Elliott would brave looking up, watching text wrap around the screen at all kinds of speeds. Sometimes it would freeze all at once, certain words blinking, and a corner of Tae Joon’s mouth would pull in an annoyed grimace - meaning he’d done something wrong, and the typing would start back up with a new kind of spiteful energy to it. Elliott would go back to what he was doing, wishing he could let out the breath he felt he’d been constantly holding, because sooner or later the typing would stop again.

Elliott was stressed out of his mind and it was starting to affect his performance on the field, but a horrible, evil little part of himself relished in knowing something others didn’t. That stupid, childish thrill of secret keeping. He wanted to hold it close to where no one else could see it, because he really, really wanted to. If not telling anyone meant protecting Tae Joon, then he wouldn’t tell a soul - even if that included Tae Joon himself.

But that was kind of backwards, wasn’t it? He was literally harboring a criminal, wasn’t he? Regardless of what Elliott’s stupid gut told him. Crypto was wanted for murder - but what was he supposed to do? Tell the authorities and get a potentially innocent man potentially killed? Or tell Tae Joon himself and be proven wrong, find out the very dead way that people Elliott found attractive really are out to get him. 

Knowing what he did and not doing anything about it was dangerous either way. Hence the trouble sleeping.

People were starting to notice, too. Tae Joon noticed - and it was stuff like that that was going to get Elliot into trouble. He found himself switching the names around in his head. Tae Joon Park and Crypto were now interchangeable; the only way he avoided not messing up out loud and inadvertently revealing himself and what he knew was just by... not talking. 

Which was hard to do. 

It was easier than trying to condition himself to stop using the name, though. Because Elliott liked knowing it. There was a certain level of intimacy to it; it felt different now whenever Crypto would corner him or when he’d let Elliott turn him away from his computer. It felt like he was holding someone more, in a way. Not a mystery, but a person. He was holding someone. He was holding Tae Joon, kissing Tae Joon in secret, making a mess of Tae Joon’s bed. It was so much, and in those moments the secret was something he almost couldn’t bear. He’d just barely hold himself back from breathing the name, he’d bite his tongue to stop it.

And then the guilt would flood into his head, because he was lying. It felt so wrong to know this when Tae Joon wasn’t the one to tell him. So, Elliott withdrew. He was polite in the games, communicated as much as necessary, still bantered with Lifeline. Slowly he weaned himself off of flirting with their other teammate and reverted back to the beginning of the season. Except, not quite, really. Even in the beginning Elliott couldn’t help himself when it came to Crypto, but back then it was petty arguments that he didn’t know he craved. Now, it wasn’t much of anything besides civility.

The worst part of it might have been that Tae Joon never asked why. He allowed the regression to happen nonchalantly, but that was on purpose. Every so often, Elliott would still get pushed against a wall, when no one else was around. Tae Joon wouldn’t ask why Elliott didn’t talk to him, didn’t visit him, didn’t invite him to his dorm anymore. He would just kiss him, hard, desperate. It was almost like it wasn’t surprising to him. Like maybe Tae Joon had been waiting for it to end the entire time.

Shame would tear Elliott up after he’d pull away without a word. It would tear him up even worse when the next time Elliott saw him, Tae Joon would act as if nothing happened. Business as usual.

----=----

It had to end in some way, so Elliott really shouldn’t have been shocked when it actually happened - or that it was his fault that it went down the way it did.

----=----

He never had liked fighting Wraith. Mirage had been on her squad a few seasons ago and they’d spent a lot of their time in the arena watching the other work. So Mirage knew her tricks, but worst of all, Wraith knew his. Besides his good looks, charm, and being a crack shot with the Wingman, tricks were just about all Mirage had. 

She had followed the sounds of his footsteps when he’d cloaked earlier in the gunfight to heal, weaving through the decoys he’d dropped without skipping a beat. It was a mess of bursts from SMGs, Wraith phasing away to duck behind cover. Another few bursts and MIrage would get sprayed down, only to disintegrate into lights and have him reappear around another corner. 

Mirage strained to hear over the firing outside for her footsteps, placing her somewhere downstairs. He continued up, for once being grateful for the Skyhook buildings and the buffer they provided with their multiple levels. It gave him time to repair the damage done to his shields as Wraith presumably did the same before she began her chase again. They were bound to run out of supplies and floors at some point, but all Mirage needed to do was buy time for his teammates to secure their kills so they could come and take her off his hands.

It was a good plan up until it stopped working. Thing was, Wraith was fast, and Mirage was learning that if you’re not in her squad as often as you used to be, you forget just how fast she could be.

He heard the cocking of a Peacekeeper after he was a few paces onto the roof, which is also when he remembered seeing a fucking zipline in the building on his way toward the stairs. He hadn’t thought about it, immediately stored it under the dumb idea section; zipping straight up to the top floor just for Wraith to light him up and have him fall straight back down like a ton of bricks? No thank you, he’d take the stairs.

“Fuck,” Mirage said quickly, just as a shotgun blast exploded in front of him. Most of the spread was dodged by running around one of the pallets stacked with construction materials, but it still cracked through what was left of his shields. 

He was dead, Mirage was absolutely dead. There was no way his Wingman was going to win against a Peacekeeper, not unless he hit every shot and Wraith missed all of hers - which she didn’t, she never missed.

A kick was placed neatly between his shoulders and Mirage flailed wildly, gripped at the metal framing of an empty wall and used the momentum to swing around - 

- directly into another shotgun blast, one of which he took right into the stomach. That sent him sprawling. He landed hard on his back and the air was knocked out of him, leaving him gasping for it as he skidded a few paces forward. 

Calmly, Wraith sauntered over to stand above him, reloading the few shots she’d used in her Peacekeeper. Mirage wanted to say something to maybe lessen the blow his pride and his body just took, but the only thing he could get out was a wet cough.

She grinned at him and knelt, shotgun going to one side so she could show Mirage the blade she held before pressing it to his throat. “Don’t worry,” she whispered, leaning in close. “I would have gotten you either way. Zigged or zagged.”

Mirage would’ve rolled his eyes had it not been for the kunai at his jugular, so all he did was swallow and wait for the push. But it never came. In the very next moment, Wraith was sent flying to the ground next to Mirage, her side smoking from a fresh Mastiff shot, the sudden sound of it nearly deafening him.

She pushed up unsteadily in an attempt to get to her feet, but Crypto beat her by grabbing at the scarf at her neck. “It seems like you zigged,” he started, mocking her previous low tone with his own smug lilt. Mirage watched as he raised his hand and his drone seemingly appeared in his grip while he finished with, “When you should have just quit and gone home.”

The drone came down against Wraith’s head hard, and in the time it took Mirage to blink, she was replaced with a golden case.

Crypto turned to face him, then, showing off the small smirk he’d been wearing. “Fashionably late,” he announced with a shrug.

Mirage couldn’t help the relieved grin that spread across his own face. “As always. Love that about you, kid.”

Crypto knelt at his side, taking the place Wraith had left behind, and fished around in the pack around his waist for the syringes he kept there. Once it was plunged into his chest, all of Elliott’s muscles seemed to twitch, but he felt his heart rate lower down to something manageable. He lost a lot of blood, though. He was going to have to huddle in a corner and lick his wounds for at least another five minutes before he’d be anywhere close to mobile.

“Thank you,” Mirage said in between a few deep breaths. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Match isn’t done yet,” Crypto chided lowly. He stood up straight and held out his hand for Mirage to take.

Which he did, but he only got halfway up before he hit the ground again. The cracking snap of a Kraber shot echoed in the empty air above the buildings and Mirage stared up at the blue sky, wondering why he wasn’t feeling any pain. Then, he heard the sound of himself hitting the floor for a third time and thought, that’s weird, I thought I already did that.

 After that, he thought, I lost a lot of blood.

Tae Joon, is the next thing that came to his mind in the form of a horrible realization, one that he ended up voicing out loud in fear, in panic. He sat up from the adrenaline that panic gave him, hysterically hoping that maybe that the other hadn’t heard him, but mostly to satisfy the need of having to see if Tae Joon was okay.

And he wasn’t, not really. He was on his back, too, propped up on one elbow, one hand clutching at his shoulder that was spilling red between his fingers. But worst of all, he was staring at Mirage like the pain was second to the shock.

Mirage didn’t like the look he was getting, and it was especially devastating that it was Tae Joon who was the one giving it to him. Underneath the cloud from the medicine coursing through his system, he knew he had to explain, had to make it so Tae Joon could understand that Mirage knowing his secret wasn’t a big deal, that’d he’d known for a long time and nothing bad had happened.

So, he began with “Tae - “ and then, for some reason, finished with, “Tae - tuh - tuh - uh - totally thought you were going to die from that.”

Finally, he thought, Nice save, and collapsed.

----=----

They didn’t win, but that was the least of their worries. Well, maybe not Lifeline’s, but that was beside the point.

Elliott left the medbay as soon as he could, which still took a good amount of time. The nurse had mentioned something about the side effects of the Revival Syringe along with blood loss and not using anymore meds to stabilize after he was injected. They spent extra time checking his vitals and Elliott didn’t have to be a doctor to tell them that those were going to be skewed.

His heart was still racing when he made his way back into the dorms. It was a little relieving to find that it was empty; after the games, everyone typically accumulated in the mess hall to celebrate the winners. But the at the same time, it was disappointing. He almost wanted to see Tae Joon standing around every corner Elliott rounded waiting to confront him, because getting this over with meant getting back to normal, and Elliott couldn’t wait for that.

So, he risked a glance over at the other’s dorm across the sitting area as if getting a look at it would help him decide on whether or not he should knock, initiate it himself. The door was pulled up, though, left open. Elliott blinked at it once before wandering closer.

The room had always seemed bare, but the emptiness was emphasized now. He noticed that the blanket that was supposed to be folded and draped across the back of the couch to show off the South Korean flag was missing. The box Tae Joon had shoved under there and filled with parts and drives was pulled out, tipped over and empty. Even more, the drone’s docking station was gone.

Elliott rushed over to the desk and tapped the first key he could reach. Only one of the monitors flashed on, glowing blue and asking to proceed with setup. 

“Oh, no,” Elliott muttered. He hurried back out to the seating area and looked up to the screens displaying that day’s match stats. Scrolling across the top was the ETA for the ship’s landing. Ten minutes. “Oh no, no, no you fucking don’t,” he continued to say, practically running to the hall for Boarding.

It Tae Joon got into the city before Elliott could catch him on the ship, it was likely that he’d never see the man again. He couldn’t let that happen.

But Boarding was empty, too, bar the few bots that managed the floor. Elliott practically skidded to a stop in front of one of them, startling the unit’s arms up and out.

“Hey, buddy, you wouldn’t have happened to see a guy, this tall - “ He holds up his hand, palm down, level with the top of his own head. “ - might have looked pissed off, which would be my fault, so I’m trying to find him. Have you seen him?”

The bot’s screen on it’s chest flashed red in the negative, then blue in an apologetic sad face.

Elliott grunted in disappointment. “Nah, don’t sweat it,” he assured the bot, even thought he was absolutely going to. 

He was biting his lip when he exited, nervous. The ship held at least sixty people on it at once. It was a decent size and if someone like Crypto was hiding on it, someone like Elliott wasn’t going to find him.

Elliott swore, once in frustration, twice in shock when he was thrown roughly against the hard, metal wall of an empty hallway. Someone held him there with a fist against his shoulder and the threat of a pistol pressing into his abdomen. He was blinded before he could gather his bearings by a sudden flash of green light, leaving him blinking rapidly to clear his vision.

“Where did you get a gun?” Elliott chose to ask, deliriously, for some reason. “They don’t let weapons on the ship - “

“Who are you?” Tae Joon questioned. The aggression in his voice was something Elliott hadn’t heard since the first few weeks, around the same time Tae Joon was just as likely to twist his arm as he was to snap at him.

“What? Babe, you know who I am - “

“Elliott Witt is too clean, everything on him was too easy to find - they wouldn’t send an Elliott Witt to hunt me down.” His expression was neutral, but there was so much going on in his eyes that Elliot couldn’t look away, even when the gun reminded him of its presence with little jabs. “So who are you?”

And maybe there were a few things Elliott should have been offended by. Like how he wasn’t prestigious enough to warrant a protected record, or Tae Joon’s implication that he wasn’t capable of something he had already done - mostly on accident.

But what he ended up asking was, “You think I made everything up? You think I lied about my entire life for, what? Getting into bed with you?”

Tae Joon didn’t seem taken aback by the hurt that was evident in Elliott’s voice, but it did leave enough room for one second of hesitation. “Then they got to you,” he whispered, somehow sounding equal parts flat and devastated.

Elliott shook his head in confusion. Who was they? “No one fucking got to me, I actually don’t know who or what you’re talking about,” he tried to explain.

“Then how?” Tae Joon asked - angry. Elliott was finally able to identify one of the things burning in Tae Joon’s glare. Anger, and maybe confusion as well. Fear. 

How did this happen, they both seemed to be thinking. How did I let it get to this?

“How did you find out?” Tae Joon snapped when Elliott spent too long watching him. “Who told you?”

“Mystik,” Elliott blurted, shocking the other enough to pull back just a little bit. “Kind of,” he went on in a hurry. “She sent you something, and I - I think the new software they implemented for security read my name enough times in it so it got forwarded to me - I don’t know exactly! I didn’t do it on purpose, it must be mald- malfuk - bugging out! So, I went to check, and I’d show you the forum post I found, but it’s gone already, I swear.”

Tae Joon took a step back, then another. “What did you find?”

Elliott let out a breath, wet his lips in a nervous tic. He shrugged. “Just - just an article.”

Disgraced computer technician - 

Wanted for murdering his sister - 

Tae Joon looked away suddenly and down the hall, like he was planning on running again. His frown was so intense a crease began to form between his brow.

“I didn’t tell anyone,” Elliott said firmly. “I promise. But - what happened?”

“I can’t tell you that,” Tae Joon told him quickly. “If you don’t know, I can’t tell you.”

“Okay,” Elliott replied, despite how much he wanted to push.

Tae Joon seemed to sense that, gave him a troubled look. “I didn’t do it.”

“I know,” Elliott told him. “I believe you.”

It it was so easy to say, but they both knew it was more than the words spoken out loud. The admission meant Tae Joon’s shoulders could drop from their high strung, protected hunch. It meant they could both breathe. It meant Elliott could push off from the wall, get close - slowly - and gently retrieve the gun Tae Joon held to find that the safety was on. Because if he didn’t have to, Tae Joon wasn’t going to hurt him. He‘d never wanted to hurt anyone.

He put his fingers on the cool metal lining Tae Joon’s jaw to get him to look at Elliott.

“I believe you,” Elliott repeated, and Tae Joon kissed him for it. He put an open hand on the back of Elliott’s head and threaded his fingers through the curls that were there, pulling him in roughly. Elliott made a surprised noise but recovered fast enough. He pushed an arm underneath Tae Joon’s open coat to wind it around man’s waist and pressed his front to the other’s, hoping that somehow he’d get Tae Joon to feel the honesty in his words through an embrace. Thinking that he could show off the part of Elliott that was dedicated purely to him by just holding him against his chest.

Anything to get Tae Joon to stop kissing him in that same, desperate way as before, like he was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Elliott said when they broke apart. He didn’t let the other go, though, and rested his forehead against his. “So you can’t either.”

Tae Joon’s features darken in a very particular way. “Don’t say that.” When Elliott lifted his head a little to show him a confused expression, he goes on to explain. “They take everything.”

Who’s they? I’ll kick they’s ass.

“They can’t take Mirage,” he said, smiling. “According to you, he’s too hard to carry.”

Instead of laughing, or giving that smarmy little smirk, or even rolling his eyes, Tae Joon raised a brow and asked, “What about Elliott?”

“Elliott’s yours,” he told him without thinking. “No one’s taking that.”

Tae Joon Park moved back in to kiss Elliott again.

=====

thanks for the prompt :^)

#apex legends #crypto #mirage #elliott witt #cryptage #cryage #those are the tags i know i'm sorry #kon's a writer #tae joon park

[wiinterrose]

          ( xavier serrano , male , he/him, 23 ) omg ! i was walking yonge street downtown , and you’ll never guess who i saw . 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐒 ! i just saw a post about them on sixsecrets ! i think it said something like “ 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐀𝐓 𝟓 𝐀𝐌 : 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 ?” . isn’t that wild ? i guess it makes sense through , since they’re apparently 𝐃𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐒 and 𝐂𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 . but i’ve heard they’re also 𝐎𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂 and 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐂 ! i’ll just stick to giving them the benefit of the doubt . i mean , it’s not like i know them personally — they’re a famous 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑 / 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐁𝐄𝐑 ! you know , i’ve actually heard rumors that ██████████████████, but they’re just rumors … i think . i dunno . if you happen to run into them , tell them i’m their biggest fan ! ( ollie , they / them , 21 , est )

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘

— mikey was born and raised in winnipeg because i think it’s funny when characters are from winnipeg. if you’re from winnipeg i’m so sorry. definitely was born on the coldest day of that year ( so like some point in january )

— but because of those long, cold harsh winters, mikey found himself in a dance studio a lot. his aunt was a dance teacher and with rather absent parents who meant well but both had long hours at the local hospital, he spent a lot of time with her. he fell in love with dance pretty early on, always having a certain fluidity and grace even when he was young.

— random but he also played hockey up until he was like 16 or whatever because he’s canadian and i’m not stupid. it happened. he can still skate tho. in a slightly different life he probably would have been a pretty good figure skater huh 🤔🤔🤔 but anyway...

— also feel like it makes sense that he did gymnastics. and trained in classical ballet.

— he went to university of toronto for college, studying kinesology and dance, and danced at one of the prestigious studios in the city.

— his big break moment was when in his sophomore year at ut, he made it onto the second season of world of dance in early 2017 ( lets pretend that show has been on longer than it has bc i don’t want it to be the first season of it sldk ). he made it all the way to the finals and quickly become a fan favorite along the way. though he ultimately placed second and missed out on the million dollars, that was the beginning of many doors opening for him. ( for those who, might have the vaguest clue what i’m talking about : i’m highkey feeling like, michael dameski style which is an idea i had after i named him michael so don’t @ me for him having the same first name ).

— millions watched that show, including some prominent agents and scouts who were able to help him launch a professional dance career : something he never thought he’d see himself actually doing. his first big gig was making the dance team for some singer’s north american tour, and he ended up not returning to ut to pursue a professional dance career full time. since then he’s danced in a few music videos for some uber famous musican ( same one he went on tour with or not idk ?? also a wc ?? maybe ?? ), a tv show, couple movies, and other various gigs around the city. he works part time at a studio when he has time, and has been honing his choreography skills as well.

— he makes enough dancing, but certainly not enough to make him RICH. no, that come from an impromptu vlog he did while on tour with aforementioned singer. having already garnered a following from world of dance, he soon rose to youtube fame as well, something he never could have predicted. i feel like his videos are very just, day in a life with various random challenges mixed in, and various workout and flexibility tips. he also still does pieces and duets with other prominent dancers just for fun too. his natural charisma and attitude really just carries him through easily lmao.

— mikey developed a bit of a habit of sleeping around when he left for college, all the newfound freedom was just intoxicating and well. he was hot so. it wasn’t like it was hard alsdkjf. that stuck around well into his blossoming dance career. nothing that was enough to be scandalous, but he made his way around. and then a year and a half into this unforeseen new life, he met matthew glass.

— he’d had a couple serious relationships before, one in high school, one his freshman year of college but neither of them could hold a flame to what he felt when he was with matt. perfection wasn’t something mikey believed in, but he almost did with what they had.

— it was like for over a year and a half he lived in this insane dream, and then mikey and matt broke up and he was devastated ( behind closed doors and with curtains pulled tightly shut ).

— he then proceeded to broadcast how perfectly fine he was doing by going back to his old ways and sleeping around obsessively, this time with very little regard as to how many headlines he was making. as far as coping mechanisms go, i guess sex is better than alcohol ?? not to say he wasn’t also drunk at times l o l.

𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂

— mikey is a... how do u say... im gunna write manwhore bc it’s accurate so pls don’t take offense. inch resting bc i’ve written smut like once in my eight year rping career but that’s what he decided he was gunna be and who am i to deny that.

— very bi. very much does not care. if the world didn’t know he was before, it definitely does now lmao. he hasn’t come out in the sense he’s like posted a video about it and said “i’m bisexual” but it’s pretty obvious from the media and maybe he has gotten asked in interviews and has just shrugged and been like does it matter ?? i’m sorry he’s not the vocal bi ally we need. perhaps we will work on that.

— hasn’t dated anyone since matt bc he’s highkey lowkey still hung up on him but no one needs to know that right. outwardly, he’s very much the same : seemingly happy, but he’s a lot more careful with his heart and letting people close to him. if anything he’s become a bit of a two-way mirror, always seeing out but never really letting people see in, just what they want to see.

— probably goes without saying but extremely flexible. idk if any of you know who juuse saros is but apparently he can twerk in a split and i’m not saying mikey can but like. he just might be able to...

— straight up does not get cold. never wears more than a hoodie, probably danced shirtless in the middle of winter just fine. at least being from winnipeg is good for one ( 1 ) thing.

— i feel like people call him flower. idk guys. maybe im just thinking too much abt hockey goalies.

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

— he tends to be extremely underestimated as he comes across a bit dumb and generally has a pretty positive outlook on life which people confuse for him being naive when that isn’t the case. but he’s found he can use that it his advantage and that sometimes, people will tell him things they think he can’t understand but he hears and remembers everything. it’s helped him out of a few difficult situations before.

— i feel like he has a bit of ethan dolan’s personality & dumbass energy idk guys...

— live in the moment kind of dude. his motto is probably like : you just gotta know what you want to do next. i mean looking back on his life it’s been pretty crazy and that’s only solidified his outlook that like, you really can’t control too much. just let it go where it takes you.

— people do like him though and they like talking to him for whatever reason. generally has pretty trustworthy vibes but he’s more slippery than he comes across. he’s a selfish person at heart and always has his own best interests in mind, even if it doesn’t seem that way at first.

— extroverted. i think ??

𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

— 6′1″. chocolate brown eyes. curly brown hair. he has a lithe but extremely fit build due to his career. his core strength is especially impressive. 

— he has a monochromatic lineart tattoo of a rose on his left forearm / wrist and a butterfly ( again monochromatic & just lineart ) on his right shoulder. small scar at the base of his neck by his ear from an unfortunate hockey accident.

— needs glasses but usually only wears contacts unless he’s in his apartment late at night.

— he’s not overly fashionable, going more for comfort than how he generally looks. on a regular day, he’s probably got the whole... college athlete look going if you know what i mean. a big fan of mirrored aviator sunglasses. wouldn’t know what dressing up meant even if it slapped him in the face.

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

first and foremost i want to say that i like to vibe and brainstorm with people to come up with unique connections between our characters but here are a few ideas:

— the singer whose tour he danced on — singer whose music videos he’s been in — mayhaps even actors for that tv show / movie he was in ( v small role but whatevs. maybe they just Vibed yknow ) — flirtationship 😔 — always ye ol good hookup l o l — we keep running into each other idk maybe we should talk ??

TAKEN CONNECTIONS PAGE HERE

𝐎𝐎𝐂

          hey guys, i’m ollie. my intros are either written really eloquently or a big mess bc im trying to rub together a couple braincells at 1 am and whatever comes out, comes out. no need to guess which category this one falls into lmAO. anyway, i’m a slow plotter bc i’m easily overwhelmed trying to do too many things at once but i swear i will try to get to as many people as i can. and yeah this entire character is inspired by my love of world of dance don’t @ me... if u made it all the way down here u should watch this bc 😳 & mikey has the same athleticism and strength.

#sixhqintro #( so.... #this be a hot mess !!!! #but.. #he's here lmao #hmu ) #( im going to sleep soon bc it's almost 2 am and i have work tomorrow lmao )