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seenoversundown · 4 months

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Sparrow Of the Dawn : Chapter 1

Sam x Willa (Fem OC) Warnings: Alcohol / Mentions of drinking, brotherly banter, dark humor/mentions of death (if you squint), otherwise silly boys being boys.

Word Count: 3.9K

Summary : Sam unfortunately finds himself in not so meet cute with Willa. Hopeful that he doesn't cross her path again; the world works in mysterious ways and not always in your favor.

Authors Note: AHHHHH I can’t wait for everybody to read and I hope you all love it as much as I do!! I’m so excited and nervous, feels like I’m waiting for the midnight premiere of Deathly Hallows (part 2) all over again 🥹😭💜

Flower Power - Greta Van Fleet “She’s a sparrow of the dawn, our love is born”

“Oh, HEY,” Jake says sarcastically the second he opens the front door, “Nice of you to show up, Jackass,” huffing out a laugh as he shuts the door behind me. The scuffed-up cherry wood floor creaks under the weight of our feet as I follow him over to where he had been organizing new stock behind the bar.

“Right.. aaand where’s my paycheck again?” I retort, sliding onto my regular spot and dropping my camera bag next to me. The spot in the dead center of the bar has been claimed as mine since before Jake even opened, the stool now complete with my etched initials SFK under the cushion.

“Time is money, brother, and I lend you mine for free, so you get me when I’m free. Which apparently to you means 9 a.m.?” I say, clasping my hands on the bartop, “So please, tell me what is so important that I needed to be here so early.” He sourly smirks back at me.

“Yeah, yeah. I have a few new ones in for you to shoot, and I’d like to get it done before we get busy today.” He picks up his clipboard, eyeing his stock list.

“We finally got the pomegranate Downeast released last month that was on backorder, as well as the pear and the guava passion fruit. Then we have ‘Reciprocal’ from Bissell Bros here in Portland, and ‘Interchangeable #7’ from Blaze Brewing in Biddo. I’d really like to get the blaze shot for our ads because it has the most interesting can art. But, ya know, I trust you.” He reads off.

A year ago, Jake, my older brother, bought this bar located right here in the heart of the Old Port. Back in his senior year of high school he got really into “Black Sails”, this pirate TV show; he practically made it his personality. Naturally, he decided he wanted to run a bar for the rest of his life, so when old man Chuck decided to retire, Jake jumped at the opportunity to purchase it. “Caravel Tavern” has only been open for 6 months and It's been his baby ever since.

“Wow, Jake Kiszka putting trust in ME? Are you feeling okay?” I feign shock grabbing at my heart.

“Just get it done, you idiot,” he says with a roll of his eyes.

“Alright, alright,” I say, glancing over the options. “Give me like an hour. I have an idea that might work. I need to head to the farmer’s market in town, but I can have the best shots edited and emailed to you tomorrow, and then we can pick the best ones for print.” I grab my bag, digging around for my car keys. “Hey, when is Josh in today? I’d like to get some shots of you guys pouring drinks for the website and Instagram for Josh’s intro post.”

“He should be here by the time you’re done with everything. That is if he’s on time. But let's be realistic, when is a Kiszka ever on time?” He replies as he breaks down boxes with a box cutter.

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I take a right onto the gravel that’s set behind the farmers market, my rusty 92’ Ford F-150 rattling as I park. I hope to god it’s just a heat shield making that noise. I cannot afford another repair on Edith. She may be an old crotchety bitch, but she has my whole heart. Well, right behind Penelope, my Bernese mountain dog, Penny girl will always be my number one.

Ding

I put her in park and shove my hand into my backpack blindly searching for the source of the text tone. Finally finding my phone Tweedle Dum🦞 appears on the screen.. I let out a giggle.

We’re running a special on whiskey sours tonight pick up some eggs, princess.

I switch Jake and Josh’s contact name back and forth between tweedle dee and tweedle dum mainly to keep them on their toes, but I’d be lying if I said tweedle dum isn’t just whoever has pissed me off or been dubbed the biggest dumbass that week. The emojis always stay the same so I can keep them actually straight though.

You got it, boss, I send back to Jake, winning the title this week for making me wake up at the ass crack of 9am. Which absolutely is early for me.

Gathering my things, I step out of my truck, immediately being hit with a cold gust of wind, the air causing my eyes to water slightly. I brush away a tear forming in my eye before it threatens to fall down my cheek. For it being the end of March the air is crispier than normal. I pause a moment too long, and a shiver runs through my body. I zip my jacket up a little higher, trying to preserve my body heat. Making sure I have my mesh bag with me, I shut my door and head over to the booths.

I make a beeline for Linda, a sweet older woman who is here every week selling chicken eggs, various fruits from her garden, and some knick-knack crafts she makes. I have about seven bowl koozies, though I’m not sure I even own as many bowls considering it’s just me, but they are really good for ramen and ice cream. Which I do not eat together. Jake and Josh live in the apartment above the bar, so when I moved back after college, I got an apartment a couple roads away to stay close.

Our parents moved out of our small hometown, which sits just on the other side of Portland. Padded off to Apple Valley, Georgia trying to settle into a warmer climate or something. They bought a house big enough for just the two of them and a guest room on an acre of land, “just in case any of you boys come to visit” Mom said. In all honesty, Apple Valley is just the same town, different state. They always said they didn’t like the city because it was too big, which is funny to me after spending the last four years in Boston. Everything here seems much smaller now.

“Morning Linda!” I smile and wave at her.

“Oh, Samuel. You’re up early this week. How are you doing, Sweetheart? How’s my Daniel?” She flashes me a warm smile. She’s also Daniel’s biggest fan. Pretty sure she only comes into the bar to see him, even though I met her first. But what can I say? I’m apparently an excellent matchmaker; we just won't mention the fact that she's 72.

I chuckle, “I’m just out running some errands for Jake. I’m on call today, apparently. Daniel’s good though! He misses you, ya know.” I finish flashing her a wink.

She lets out a high-pitched laugh, “I’ll be down to visit with Miss Eleanor. You tell him not to worry.” She raises an eyebrow and smirks at me, “Anyway, what can I get ya my dear?”

“Think two dozen will do it for today.” I hand her a crumpled ten-dollar bill in exchange, “Keep the change, Lin. I’ll see you at the bar or next Saturday, whichever comes first.” I set the eggs carefully in my tote and head toward my next stop, the flower truck.

The beer I’m photographing for the bar has a brightly colored logo in a style reminiscent of comic book art. A bold red can with yellow, blue, and purple adorning the signature name. My idea is to use a bouquet of different flowers to accent the colors and make the can pop.

I scan through the metal buckets, trying to mentally piece together an arrangement without disturbing the flowers too much. They are far too delicate to be pulling and yanking on them just to try them out for size. Some of the people here, like Linda, make their living posting up every Saturday.

I reach for a bundle of forget-me-nots, settling on those along with the last of the remaining Irises, a few red Dahlias, Daffodils, and Butterfly Milkweed. Taking a step back slightly away from the displays, I start to rearrange the bouquet to my liking. Extending my arms out in front of me, and changing my angle to make sure I like how the flowers look together. Just as I decide that, yes, these will do for what their intended purpose is, I feel someone aggressively poking my bicep.

I turn toward the person attached to the finger. Not going to lie; I’m a bit impressed by the force of it, considering I’m wearing a sweater under my quilted jacket, and the woman who’s doing the poking is standing at about 5 foot nothing and looks like a swift breeze might carry her away. I blink slowly at her a few times and raise my eyebrows waiting expectedly.

“Did someone die, or did you just fuck up like, wicked bad?” the snark heavily laden on her tone.

I close my eyes and let out a long breath, “Uhm, it’s uhh –” I stutter a bit, really trying to play it up, “My grandma died last week, actually. Did you know her? Her name was Althea.” I gaze down at my shoes and drop my head a bit, taking a moment before I attempt to look for her reaction through my eyelashes. If I held my breath long enough, I might just be able to work up a tear. Would that be too dramatic? .. maybe.

“Oh.. uh. No, I didn’t. I’m sor–” Regret immediately paints her face.

“I’m fucking with you.” I let out a small laugh

“What?” her eyes narrow at me, trying to figure out if I’m lying or telling the truth.

“I’m joking, my grandma is fine. Are you okay? Or is it a normal occurrence for you to ask a complete stranger if they’re mourning a dead relative?" Amusement settles on my face.

She lets out an audible groan. Why is she so angry? She tugs down at the sides of her short floral dress and waves a hand out toward my arrangement.

“Why on earth do you need every single purple flower!?” She exclaims, “And who jokes about their grandma dying?” stamping her beaten-up Doc Marten into the patchy grass. She actually stomped her foot at me. What are we twelve?

I roll my eyes and attempt to alleviate the situation, “Bachelor Buttons.”

I have work to do and absolutely do not need an attitude from a complete stranger, even if she is cute. I have brothers for that purpose, and they do their jobs well enough.

“They’re mostly purple but with a bit of blue. They symbolize love if you’re trying to give them to someone important.” I scratch the back of my head and briefly hope she says she’s not. I immediately throw the thought away with a shake of my head. Nope, not opening that door.

“I don’t need Bachelor Buttons.”

“.. ookaay. You could always d –”

“I need Irises.” She says, cutting me off, “Specifically. Okay? And I’m fine, but if I can't find irises today because of you count *poke* your *poke* days!” she ends her sentiment with a final sharp poke to my chest and storms away. God damn, her finger is like a tiny dagger.

Listen, growing up without any sisters means I don’t know much about women, but what I do know .. is definitely never believe one when they say they’re fine.

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As I walk through the door of Caravel Tavern for the second time today, I call out, “Okay, Jake, I’m back with your eggs, Asshole. Where are you?”

I set my camera bag and the eggs down and lean over the counter, checking to see if he’s kneeling behind the bar top.

“.. Jake?” I look side to side. Where the hell is he? It’s the middle of the day, not nearly early enough for lunch.. Not like the guy takes a break anyway.

“JAKE WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!” I yell through my cupped hands. The sound echoes through the empty space.

He comes running from the back room, a panic written on his face. “Jesus Christ, Sam, what?”

“Got your eggs.” grinning wildly at him. I swear I'm actually his favorite brother.

“Well, thanks, Samuel, for being useful for one thing today.” He says, before changing his tone, “You okay? You look a bit tense?”

“Yeah,” absentmindedly, my hand drifts to my shoulder, rubbing at the area where angry-flower-girl poked me earlier. “Actually, you’ll never believe what happened to me at the farmers market.”

He’s not looking at me when he hums his response, just putting the eggs in the mini fridge next to the ice well. I slide the second carton over to him.

“I ran into this girl, actually, she ran into me rather. I was picking out the bouquet arrangement for the photos I want to take and she sorta.. Came at me poking?”

He slowly stands and looks at me, his brow furrowed a bit. “She.. came at you?” He pauses. “Poking?”

“Poking,” I point to my shoulder in disbelief.

“Okay, and what did this poking girl want?”

“To yell at me for taking all the irises. I tried to do the gentlemanly thing and suggest an alternative, but she poked me some more and stomped off. She was hot as hell even if she was a bit psychotic.”

“Well, why did you take all the irises? You also could have taken the other- wait, “ Jake pauses, turning to face me head-on. He sets the empty carton on the counter, “No, whatever you’re thinking about, cut it out,” He points at me, “Did you forget about the last ‘cute but insane’ girl?”

“Hey, she wasn’t that bad! AND she was really hot?!” both hands raised.

“Sam, she cracked your windshield” he pinches the bridge of his nose.

Just as I’m about to further protest, “Cracked windshield? We’re not talking about ‘the Bride of Chucky’ are we?” Josh says

“Oh, come on guys, you can say her name. And again.. She wasn't that bad.”

“No, every time you say her name she comes back like Voldemort, and none of us need that shit.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. Get your ass clocked in so I get your headshots done, and you can get to work lest Jake have a stroke.” I lean toward Josh and whisper, “You’re already late.”

“When isn’t he late?” Jake sighs and rolls his eyes.

“Well,” Josh claps his hands together, “it is clearly time for my close-up. Sammy, let’s get this shit fest over with.”

Oh, Josh, ever the dramatic brother.

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I don’t spend a ton of time taking Josh’s photos, grateful that he isn’t afraid of the camera. I barely have to direct him, which makes my life that much easier. If he could work on just not being a pain in the ass the rest of the time, that’d be great.

A few goodbyes later, and I’m finally off to edit. Putting all my things into the passenger seat and giving my truck some words of encouragement, the engine turns over. Thank fucking god. I live fairly close to the bar, so I decide to not bother with the radio and just listen to whatever comes my way.

Still thinking about the poking girl, mostly because my chest was sore. I didn’t expect to be stabbed today. I do hope she found her Irises…

‘Now I don’t hardly know her, but I think I could love her,’

I turn the volume up on the radio, hoping it’ll help me focus on driving and not thinking about her.

I make it back home, throwing the truck in park and hustling up to my apartment. I’m quickly greeted by my bundle of joy. I set all my things out to edit on the counter and take care of Miss P before I start working.

Taking a walk is probably what I needed to do anyway.

I got Penelope right after I graduated and moved back up here. Being used to a house full of people to just living alone was.. well, lonely. I think I lasted only a few months living alone before I gave in and went to find a pet. The twins suggested a cat because they’re fairly low maintenance, and their plan was to get a couple cats once their lives settled a bit. Settled ended up being right around when Jake bought the bar, I would hardly call that settled, but it worked out for them. Me on the other hand, I’m more of a dog person. As soon as I saw Penny, I knew she’d be my adventure buddy, coming with me on my walks and hikes and photography trips. It’s definitely easier with a dog, despite what Josh says about how easy it is to train a cat with a harness to adventure with you.

Once she is settled in after our walk, I sit down to edit for a while. Pulling up the photos of Josh, something seems off. Why are half of these out of focus? I think to myself, scrolling through the options. If he could have just stopped talking for two seconds, this one would have looked good. The longer I scroll through the options, the more annoyed I get. Why did she poke me so fucking hard? Finding myself rubbing the spot on my chest, I force myself to get up for a minute. Maybe I just need to walk around. Wandering into my bathroom, I pull the collar of my shirt down to see the spot, if it doesn’t actually bruise, I’ll be SHOCKED.

Sitting back down, I take one look at the photo I've been trying to salvage, letting out a sigh. This is awful.

Me: hey I’m not super happy with how Josh’s pics came out.. Do you care if I just borrow him in the morning to get some new ones?

Me: Not at 6am tho- it’ll be Sunday, The Lord’s day, and he would want me to get my beauty rest.

Tweedle Dum🦞: lol that’s fine bud

Me: I may come back for a drink tho. Shit has me STRESSED.

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“God, Sam, don’t you ever leave?” Josh calls from behind the bar.

“You’d think I was tired of looking at your ugly mug all day, but guess not.” My lips wind into a tight smile. “Can I actually get a drink? I’m annoyed as fuck that I hate all the pictures I took today, and a drink sounds like the perfect remedy.”

“Turning to alcohol to solve your problems, hmm?”

“Shhhhh,” I wave my hands in front of me. “Can I get a Clover Club, maybe? In a whiskey glass.. No garnish. I don’t wanna look like a little bitch.” I groan

“Let your freak flag fly, brother,” spinning away to go make my drink and tend to the other patrons seated down the bar top.

This drink really better do the trick so I can relax for five minutes. Honestly, the pressure I put on myself to make sure I do well for Jake’s pride and joy, along with trying to find my own way with a full-time job is a little exhausting. It’s hard knowing that Caravel is his baby; he really doesn’t have much else going on. I swear if he got laid, he’d be a hell of a lot less uptight about it, but I digress. I don’t totally feel like I’m the most reliable person, but I try to make sure he can count on me and I don’t contribute to his stress. Ya know, he’s my brother, and I want him to be as proud of me as I am of him for doing what he loves so much. I don’t think I tell him enough how proud I really am of him. He’s someone I look to for inspiration for trying to pave my own way. I’d never tell him that though, because he’d probably think I was yanking his chain or something. I have a job trial-type thing down in Boston later this week, and I’m really hoping it turns out to be something good. I could use something good right now.

Josh interrupts my thoughts, setting my drink down, “Just how you asked for it in a cocktail glass with extra garnish.”

I sigh audibly, “Ya know, I don’t even care. Gimme it.” I gulp it down in nearly one go. Josh looks surprised at me. Whether it’s because of my eagerness or because he knows I’m terrible at holding my alcohol, I’m not sure. I don’t care.

“One more.” I close my eyes, waiting for the gin to work its magic on me. Feeling my muscles relax bit by bit, my brow finally straightens out, and I sink down against the wall closest to my seat. I sigh audibly again, though this time it’s one of relief.

The longer I sit here, the more people are trickling in. Sipping on my drink this time, I notice people in all sorts of outfits looking vaguely like anime characters. Gathering in little cliques of friend groups, a few interesting folk bouncing from table to table. I can't tell if time is moving incredibly fast or if the alcohol has made me move slower, but suddenly, I have the realization that it’s packed in here. Since opening, they’ve been able to handle everything behind the bar, just the two of them, with Daniel manning the door, but I don’t think they’re equipped to handle whatever event these people are overflowing from.

I swig back the last sip of my drink, grab my glass, and make my way to the back room. I toss the raspberry garnish before setting the glass in the sink to be washed. Grabbing the ice bucket, I start to fill it to make sure the front is stocked for them; ice is usually always the first thing to go. I lug the full bucket back behind the bar, and refill the ice well.

“Thanks, Sammy. Hey, would you mind bussing some of the tables and asking the people with tabs if they need any refills, please? I’ll make sure I put you on the payroll for the night,” Jake asks, eyes pleading and desperate for help. And really, who am I to say no to him?

“Of course I can. I’ve got nothing else better to do anyway.” I start to reach for a tray.

“Thanks. I mean it.” he says, squeezing my shoulder, “I forgot PortCon was happening, and we’re close to one of the hotels.” He explains before returning to the drink he's making.

That explains the costumes. I do my rounds checking to make sure everyone seated in the booths are okay, grabbing the empty drinks out of their way, making light conversation when I can. I bring a tray of glasses, napkins, and various random trash items back behind the bar and set them in the bin next to Jake. Just as I go to take another trip, my eyes catch the door. Of course. Of course, this would happen to me. I can’t have a single day go smoothly if my life depended on it. Good God, someone is out to get me, I swear.

“Fuck me,” I say out loud.

“Who is that?” Jake says to me as he’s working on his current drink order.

“The angry-flower-girl with the dagger fingers,” I pause, looking at the dude standing next to her, “annnd her date.”

“Oh shit.”

Crimson and Clover - Tommy James and the Shondells

“Now I don't hardly know her But I think I could love her Crimson and clover”

<- Prologue Chapter Two ->

Masterpost | Taglist | Jukebox Playlist

Taglist:

@gvfsstardust, @myleftsock, @mindastreamofcolours, @dont-go-home-without-me, @literal-dead-leaf, @lizzys-sunflower, @threadofstars, @mackalah, @klarxtr, @edgingthedarkness, @writingcold, @i-love-gvf, @takenbythemadness, @ladywhimsymoon, @earthgrlsreasy, @ourlovesdesire, @peaceloveunitygvf, @anythingforjtk

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rubbarband · 4 months

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Book of a hero

Closed rp with @thevoiceofthepeople

Just another routine mission- yeah that's what I thought it be. It's a long story, you're probably wondering why I'm on a boat, on an ocean yes I said 'AN OCEAN' not my own worlds ocean. But here I am, on a different world traveling with a foxy library trying to dodge and duck marines, pirates and sea monsters to find one villain traveling from place to place.

This will take some explaining, let me take you back, to how we got here.

- - - - -

"Give it up M.T we evacuated everyone before you got here, a trap by yours truly." Desmond baker, Earth's 17th hero in Portland, Oregon was the first on the scene- Desmond happened to be nearby and also was wise to M.T's tricks. So the fight was easier for someone on this heroes caliber, M.T is a deadly but stupid villain; a horrible combination. The fight was long but before reinforcements could arrive M.T started acting...weird.

His portal power he could usually control began to shift and act weird before a portal opened inside of him, forcing Desmond to stop before it violently sucked M.T in.

"What?! Kal-li what just happened!?" Des tried holding on for dear life to a building, lamp post, anything!

'I do not know! It seems he had a quirk evolution, hang on- we don't know where that will take us.'

Desmond however lost his grip, the suctions on the portal and the combination of a car hitting him into said portal- in a blip, it vanished.

#thevoiceofthepeople #|| book of a hero ||#[what the des doing?] ic;

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flagwars · 7 months

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People’s Flag Wars 2: Round 1

Welcome to the first round of the second People’s Flag Wars! This competition includes flags designed by the people who submitted them. I received way more submissions than last People’s Flag Wars, so it will be a much larger tournament. Last time there were only 16 submissions, but this time there are 49! Due to this large number, there will be three flags per poll in the first round, except for the one poll with four flags. Thank you to everyone who submitted a flag, and may the best flag win!

Round 1:

1. Florida Vexillological Society by Lima305 vs. Chuhuiv redesign by Горіхус vs. Lumpen’s personal flag by Lumpen

2. Artemisapphia by @mogai-sunflowers vs. UKA redesign by Flaggmannen vs. Kolombarov by adamolis69

3. San Francisco Horizon Flag by Brian Stokle vs. Independent Symbol of Catania by Catania Project vs. Taipei redesign by Dúghorm

4. Golden Wattle Flag by Flags for Australia vs. Fuhqueue by Quelsborough vs. Green Party of the United States by @thetarastark

5. Szola by Baphon vs. Terrakey by @tropinui vs. Amnesia flag by @butterwort-birdie

6. Civil flag of the Republic of Khraelyia by Aika vs. Foquismo by @toastiemcstrudel vs. Texan Czechs by Kryštof Huk

7. Haiti redesign by MatthewTNT79 vs. Calvert by Anonymous vs. Boston redesign by evanb

8. Flag of Warlar by Tavern vs. Flag by Ryan vs. West Virginia redesign by Tomorand

9. Pancrustacea by @crustaceanlord vs. Carmel, Indiana by scottishdoge vs. Brechreiz Empire by @trans-fem-lesbian-crab

10. Ventrexia by marshyswtr vs. Portland, Maine redesign by Flag For Portland vs. Republic of New England by Indy

11. Coptic Egypt by @arthurdrakoni vs. Forest City Flag by @forestcityflag vs. New Jersey Autonomous Zone by @lil-tachyon

12. Socialist Party of the United States by @that0ne81 vs. Tuvalu by kindness093 vs. Persodivergent by @epikulupu

13. Orca Face flag by Bradley Lockhart vs. Flag by eth317 vs. Pirate flag by Curtis Tarver

14. City flag of Syracuse, New York titled The First Light flag by Eric Hart vs. Family flag by Anonymous vs. Vădastra, Romania by Turcu Mihai

15. Old Sanwonic Confederation by dodot65 vs. Nerja, Spain by Gortius-VIII vs. Kairouan, Tunisia by Gargari

16. Flag of Oyazan by sketch vs. Aromantic flag redesign by @jellyfishjampie vs. Ghost World (The Ghost and Molly McGee) by @loversunitedstates-blog vs. Fully Automated Gay Space Anarchism by NaeAyy

#polls #flags #vexillology #people’s flag wars #tournament #brackets

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kdizzzy · 1 year

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jacob black headcannons

he loves to drive and tends to rope his friends into spontaneous weekend road trips to seattle and portland

he loves florence and the machine

he makes a really good grilled cheese sandwich and always makes a bunch when the pack gets together for movie nights

his favorite book is frankenstein by mary shelley

he is actually a terrible singer but he loves to drive with the windows down, stereo blasting music, singing as loudly as possible

he is a really goofy dancer

he gives the biggest teddy bear hugs but they’re the best hugs you’ll ever get

he and billy have such a strong relationship that sometimes they almost seem like good friends. any time billy gives him advice, he takes it (except when it’s about girls…..)

he is an old soul in every way possible, and he loves spending time with the elders on the res and listening to their stories and telling them all his. he and the grannies are huge gossips

he’s a natural runner, even before phasing, and he was up for a spot on his school’s cross country team before he phased

when he gets stressed or angry and needs to calm down, he likes to listen to soft songs, read his favorite books, make wood carvings, make dreamcatchers - anything that will keep his mind and his hands busy

he, quill, and embry have their own unspoken language they’ve had since they were kids, and even the slightest eye rolls are full sentences. they use it to make fun of people, mostly

he secretly wishes he could have learned to play the guitar but never really got into it

he feels most comfortable in the woods, on the beach, in his car, or in smaller cozy spaces

leah convinced him to start a journal to cope with his stress, and he starts every entry with “dear stupid book” (but he writes every single day)

he knows a lot of card games (spoons is his favorite because it’s so chaotic)

he eats hot peppers like candy

he’s always down to watch action and thriller movies, but his favorites are actually the old cheesy horror movies. up until he phased, his favorite was a werewolf movie. now when he watches it, he sits through the whole two hours pointing out inaccuracies

when he was little, he wanted to be a pirate when he grew up

he can sleep anywhere

he’s very quick to justify when the people he loves hurt him because he’s scared of losing them and has a very firm belief in unconditional loyalty. on the other hand, he’s very quick to shut anyone else out when they hurt him.

he gives really good advice but wouldn’t take it for himself

he doesn’t like flashy things or flashy people

he wants to be able to work with his hands, like carpentry, and he’s always wanted to build his own house

he snores. loudly.

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justabooknerdposts · 6 months

Note

You are the best pjo writer! the way you capture their voices is the best and it always makes my day to read a new fic by you! i've always loved the quick mentions of the girl talks hazel piper and annabeth would have, especially when it mentioned that annabeth would try to calm hazel by telling her of percy's finest seaweed brain moments.

*Thank you for your kind words! This prompt was fun to do. There’s also a chapter in my missing moments story The In-Between Times on Fanfiction and Ao3 called Girl Talk that dives a little more into Piper, Hazel, and Annabeth hanging out on the Argo II.*

After Percy, Frank, and Hedge left for downtown Atlanta, Annabeth helped Leo with some repairs, then, after hesitating for a moment, knocked on Hazel’s closed door. “Can I come in?” She was almost worried Hazel would say no, for several reasons, but after a moment, Hazel’s voice said, “Yes.”

When Annabeth opened the door, Hazel was sitting on her bed. Annabeth sat down beside her, but before she could say anything, Hazel said, “I’m sorry I ran out of the crew mess like that.”

Annabeth shook her head. “You had every right to be upset. This is about your brother.” She kept to herself that she could understand the boys’ point—it was logical, even if it was cold. That was something she had to watch out for herself. One of the reasons she was drawn to Percy was the way he led with his heart and almost always did the right thing, even if it wasn’t always the wise thing.

Which reminded her…

“By the way, I’m sorry about this morning,” Annabeth said. “We weren’t trying to embarrass anyone or anything—”

Hazel cut her off with a wave of her hand. “I know that things in this time period are different. It just surprised me.”

“For the record, we just kissed a couple of times,” Annabeth said, echoing Percy’s words to Frank.

To her relief, Hazel gave a small laugh. “It’s all right. Percy talked about you a lot on our quest to Alaska. I know he missed you.”

“Really?” Annabeth knew Percy had said he remembered her name, but she didn’t know much more than that. “How much did he remember? Did he say?”

“Not much at first,” Hazel said. “But apparently it started getting better after he drank the gorgon’s blood in Portland.”

“He did what?”

Hazel told her the story about their encounter with Phineas the seer in Portland and Percy’s gamble with the gorgon’s blood.

Annabeth groaned. “Gods, of course he did. That’s exactly the kind of crazy move that somehow works out for him.”

“So that happens a lot?” Hazel asked. “Because there was also a thing with a Hyperborean giant and some frozen gryphons.”

After Hazel explained what that was about, Annabeth told her about some of Percy’s other impulsive ideas that had somehow been successful, including entangling Antaeus in chains, flying on a pig during the battle of Manhattan, leaping from the St. Louis Arch to get away from Echidna and her chimera—

“So that’s why he said he’d fallen farther from the Arch!” Hazel said.

“Wait, where else did he fall off?” Annabeth asked with a frown.

“From a glacier,” Hazel said matter-of-factly. “He drowned an army of ghosts.”

Annabeth closed her eyes. “That would only happen to Percy.”

“So does it ever not work out for him?” Hazel asked.

Annabeth smirked. “Well, there was the time he got himself turned into a guinea pig.”

“What?”

So Annabeth got to tell the story of Circe’s island, including how they had actually met Reyna there, though long before she’d been praetor. And how she herself had nearly been persuaded to stay, until she realized that Circe had turned Percy into a fluffy rodent. “He did make a pretty cute guinea pig. But it was also terrifying, when I realized what had happened,” she admitted. “Luckily, Hermes had given us some multivitamins, so I took one, which protected me from Circe’s magic, and dumped the rest in the guinea pig cage. Percy turned back into himself, and so did a bunch of pirates who’d also been in the cage.”

Hazel gaped at her for a moment, then slowly shook her head. “Wow. No wonder he seemed so calm about some of the weird things that happened on our quest.”

Annabeth laughed. She was enjoying hanging out with Hazel. And it was kind of fun talking about Percy, especially when she knew (hoped) he would be coming back to the boat soon. It had been hard to talk about him while he’d been gone; it hurt too much. The fact that he’d talked about her to his new friends sent butterflies ricocheting around her stomach. She shouldn’t have been surprised, but it was still nice. For months, she hadn’t known if he’d even remember her at all. So it made her really happy to hear that he had.

She was a little less happy to hear about the risky things he’d done, but that was just Percy. She’d known what she was getting into. And she probably wasn’t much less crazy anyway. She asked Hazel some more about her own experiences and they had a good time going back and forth sharing stories—right up until Frank burst into the room, shouting about starting the engines and someone named Porky. Which pretty well ended their conversation for the moment as they rushed on deck to figure out what the heck was going on. But, hopefully, they would get a chance to hang out again. After all, there was still plenty of quest left to go before they reached the Ancient Lands.

#closed to prompts for now #just catching up on past requests #pjo #fanfic #fanfiction #ff #writing #percy jackson #stories #request #annabeth chase

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an-obstinate-plethora · 7 months

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Portland Pirates

#jock #hockey studs #athletes

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seattlekrakenpromptmeme · 1 year

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It's: Started From The Bottom of The Puget Sound: Year Two! This year we're doing a themed week - it's much like a high school spirit week, but with more ocean creatures. Choose one theme, choose many themes, or even choose no themes! Each day of the fest has a theme, but the themes are a loose guideline, not a hard and fast rule. Questions? Check out Fanlore's List of Tropes & Genres, read our fest FAQ or hit us up in our ask box.

Themes

Saturday, April 15th — Fuck Portland (Washington as Character): Seattle Tourism ∘ Washington Living ∘ Pacific Northwest Mythology and Folklore ∘ Coffeeshop, Tech, and Music AUs

Sunday, April 16th — 12 Draft Picks (Rookies & AHL Call-Ups): Coming of Age ∘ Rookie Initiation ∘ Age Gap/Age Difference ∘ Punk, Social Media, and Small Town AUs

Monday, April 17th — Down In the Deep (Kraken Aesthetics): Monsters Made Them Do It ∘ Sex Pollen ∘ Canadian Cascadia Shack ∘ Fishing, Pirate, and Marine Biologist AUs

Tuesday, April 18th — 4 Alternates, No Captain (Vets & the Leadership Core): Right Place, Wrong Time ∘ Future Fic ∘ Career-Ending Injury ∘ Non-Hockey Seattle Sports AU

Wednesday, April 19th — Greater Seattle Polycule (Players in Situations): Genderswap/Cis-swap ∘ Gay Bars ∘ And They Were Roommates ∘ Curtain Fic, Kid Fic, and Historical AUs

Thursday, April 20th — Squid Squad (Romance & Friendship): Accidental Marriage ∘ Friends to Lovers ∘ Huddling For Warmth ∘ Sugar Daddy, Werewolves, and Pacific Rim AUs

Friday, April 21st — Yeet The Fish (The Whole Team!): Team as Family ∘ Fake/Pretend Relationship ∘ Red Thread of Fate ∘ Modern Royalty, Urban Fantasy, and Sentinel AUs

Saturday, April 22 — Last day to post fanworks!

#seattle kraken #coachella firebirds #fanfic #fanwork #fanwork fest #hockey rpf #hockey #ao3 #also a new post for the one month countdown!#truly fighting for my life in canva tonight but it's like 1am so i gave up after 30 minutes lmao

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poptart-cat-78 · 11 months

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Tell me more about The Grimm Named Swan, please!

I’ve always wanted to do a Grimm x Ouat fan fic ESPECIALLY as a huge fan of both. In the world of Grimm, Grimms are supernatural hunters who can see creatures called Wesen, I had the fun idea of having the main characters of Ouat going into the world of Grimm and Emma learning that she, herself, is one of these supernatural hunters, thus the title: “The Grimm Named Swan”

Here’s a snippet!:

“The Black Magic was heading straight toward them, they clutched onto each other and began to brace whatever the Black Fairy had in store for them. As it engulfed them, in transported them to somewhere unexpected. They were in the middle of another town, but this wasn't Storybrooke anymore. "Bloody Hell, where did that insipid fairy send us to?" The black haired pirate named Killian asked. "I know this place, one of the orphan kids I knew was from here... why would the Black Fairy want us in Portland, Oregon of all places?" inquired the blonde woman Emma. The other group members looked around. All of a sudden Emma saw a strange man with a staff walking towards them, in an instant his face chanced from a normal humans to a creature who looked like the devil. Emma was confused, no terrified, but then she looked over at her son Henry and saw that same look on his face. What WAS that thing? Wherever it was going, it was in no hurry. The creature stoped to look at the group, it snarled like a wild animal and continued on it’s way. Seems like Storybrooke wasn't the only town with it's fair share of big bads.”

#personal #asks #booksteaandtoomuchtv #the poptart answers #my fan fics #thanks for the ask!#ouat #grimm

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spann-stann · 2 months

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Floridian, ambivalent about the CorpEmp as long as it's bound by the strictures of the Church

Fun fact about Florida during the Warlords' War period: the first aerosolization and weaponization of flakka was in Florida!

WW3 and the subsequent societal collapse put high culture on hold. Which was unfortunate as your hobby involved blogging about what cultural pursuits there were to enjoy before the Wars. As Florida was one of the many hotbeds of the New Tribal Movement in the western world, so you shifted focus on documenting and reporting how the many groups (allied or otherwise) functioned and fought against atomization and modernity. You wrote articles on the culture of the Floridamen, Swamp Goths, Neo-Seminoles, and the Cubano-Saxons before you shifted focus again. As a war time reporter. Cubans invaded the south, and pirates from Haiti and Gitmo began to raid the coast. Boys in green from Texas and boys in gray from Virginia came along to help the Florida tribes fight off the invaders and raiders, and you helped report on it. By hook or by crook you were the one to report on the latter stages of the Warlords' Wars and the birth of CorpEmp. The siege of St. Louis, the burning of Portland, the triumph through D.C., you were there. You expanded your operation to become proto-CorpEmp's primary source of news by the time the Hispano-Gaels met the Bretons in Europe. Your Magnum Opus was being able to broadcast the crowning of the Emperor. Maybe now someone will write a musical piece for you to critique...

#my setting #setting #ask

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snowbellewells · 2 years

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Whumptober2022 fic: “(Hold Onto Me) I’m a Little Unsteady”

No. 7 /// Shaking Hands

Okay, so I meant to have this up nearly a week ago, but better late than never, I guess?? It’s my second offering for the @whumptober2022 prompts, though I might have given it up, but I think both @kmomof4 and @jrob64 might have skinned me alive if I left my last Whumptober prompt fill without continuation. This one carries on from where my No. 3 /// Gun to Temple prompt left off, so we’re still in an alternate version of the Underworld arc where Emma and Killian have encountered a vengeful Cruella on their quest for the ambrosia. (Hopefully this will make up for my misguided attempt to be darker and only do the whump and angst without the appeasing ending last time around! ;p)

Also on AO3, if that’s your preference

“(Hold Onto Me) I’m A Little Unsteady”

by: @snowbellewells

For several long, excruciating moments, Emma cannot blink, cannot speak, cannot bring herself to move. She watches, frozen, as her True Love shudders with the bullet’s impact, then folds in on himself, instinctively shielding the injury, a reflex for self-protection coming too late. He falls slowly to his knees, crumpling in slow motion as she stares helpless - watching her whole world fall apart with him.

Suddenly, it doesn’t matter that her adversary has a gun, that her magic hasn’t been working sine they arrived in this scarlet-tinted nightmare, that the ambrosia will do no good now, or what happens to the rest of them next. All she can feel is the wave of rage and devastation that swells inside her until it has to explode outward. Whirling with the raw, heartbroken scream of a banshee, her arm shoots out unbidden, forming a fist as it flies, and connecting with Cruella’s jaw mercilessly. She hasn’t thrown a punch like that since she was fighting for food to eat on the streets of Portland, but it seems the swift right hook she gained there has not been lost. The vicious specter of a grand dame hits the ground hard, out cold with the gun still smoking in her loosened grip, its damage already done.

For a second, dazed, tears streaming silently down her face, Emma can do little more than drag in one ragged breath after another. She wants to howl at the injustice and fall to her knees, seeing how quickly it all could have been over if she had acted sooner.

Heaving one more large breath into her lungs, she turns, eyes seeking Killian where he has slumped over, lying motionless. He is never completely still - eyebrow arching deviously, corners of his mouth twitching upwards in a playful smirk, graceful fingers tapping some internal rhythm only he hears or rubbing unconsciously against each other. Even in sleep, he rolls from side to side, turns to snuggle her closer to himself, eyelids twitching as he dreams. She can’t bear to see him just lying there as she finally stumbles the few steps forward to reach him and collapses at his side.

She watches her own shaking hands resting over his stomach as if they belong to someone else. As if she is seeing a stranger from a distance, she scrambles to roll her pirate from his side where he had fallen over to his back, hoping to find something - anything - she can do for him. He still doesn’t respond, and she notes vaguely that it is not only her hands trembling wildly, but her whole body, cut adrift and wobbling helplessly like a ship unmoored on waves about to swallow her whole. She isn’t sure how so much blood could have pumped from within him to spill down his torso onto her hands, to puddle sickeningly around them, when his heart isn’t beating to drive it, but it has happened all the same. Biting her lip and trying to hold back the sobs that threaten to overwhelm her, Emma cannot afford to fall apart if there is anything she can still do to save Killian.

Putting pressure on the wound, she tries to staunch the flow of blood from him even as she reaches to search for a pulse. Would he have a pulse anyway? Emma has struggled to find hope throughout her adult life, didn’t have any cause to nurture it until Henry, and then Killian, proved to her there was reason to believe, that there was hope in the world. She hadn’t often prayed either, but she’s doing so now, begging over and over again, ‘....please…please…just… don’t take him from me…don’t let him be gone…’

Then, suddenly, as out of nowhere as real magic had burst full force into her life, Killian gasps, sucking in a huge breath, and seeming to shock back into awareness. His eyes fly open as he starts to shoot upwards in surprise, only to fall back against her with a groan at the pain in his torso. His gaze flies wildly from her face, to the room around them, to Cruella’s unconscious form where she feel, and back to meet Emma’s eyes adoringly, not even sparing a glimpse at his own injury, where her hands still fumble to hold pressure - though she can feel the flow is lessening. Is that good or bad? It’s hard to tell in this strange other world where it would seem a person could be shot and bleed, even while already dead, and yet somehow come bursting back to life again - or what passes for it at the moment anyway.

It’s dizzying. Emma actually feels her head whirl, and she has to close her eyes for a moment, suck in a breath and regain her equilibrium. Of course, that’s when she feels his rough-calloused palm cup her cheek and his voice breathlessly murmur, “You bested her, Love. It’s over now.”

His pride and continued praise despite her feeling she nearly cost him everything is more than she can withstand. Despite her best efforts to hold on, Emma’s lower lip wobbles and her eyes tear up and spill over, rivulets streaming down her face and soaking his fingers as he still cradles her cheek and strokes his thumb over her flushed skin. “But it so nearly wasn’t,” she manages brokenly.

“Now, now, Darling,” he practically croons, straightening, and - against all logical odds - with each minute seeming more fully recovered than should be possible. Killian gently takes each trembling finger of her shaking hand and kisses them one by one, whispering assurances. “Apparently one cannot do much lasting damage to a person who is already dead.”

His rather bleak jest sets her to senselessly laughing with a strange snort and more tears falling at the same time. Shaking her head, Emma can only squeeze his hand as it holds hers and let her head lean forward to rest against his, trying to simply breathe him in. ‘He’s still here’ and let her heart regain its regular beat.

“Haven’t I told you before, Swan?” he asks, playfully nudging her nose with his in a gentle caress. “If there’s one thing I’m good at, you should know by now it’s surviving.”

He pulls her almost completely into his lap as they sit tangled up in each other in the midst of the strange half-light of the Underworld, if nothing else knowing they are still together. And at feeling the strength still in his arms as he holds her, Emma’s shaking can finally cease.

Tagging a few who enjoy the whump and angst (such as I am capable of anyway): @cosette141 @hollyethecurious @elizabeethan @sotangledupinit @justanother-unluckysoul @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @anmylica @winterbaby89 @killian-whump @artistic-writer @wefoundloveunderthelight @apiratewhopines @xsajx @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @laschatzi @drowned-dreamer @cocohook38 @mie779 @deckerstarblanche @zaharadessert @donteattheappleshook @the-darkdragonfly

#whumptober2022 #no.7 #shaking hands #once upon a time #captain swan #fic #gunshot wound #cs one shot #cs prompt fill #cs whump #angst #hurt/comfort

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