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beautifulbuckys · 2 years

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Rumor Has It (40′s!Bucky Barnes x Reader)

FIC PINTEREST BOARD

Summary: As a local bartender, you’d heard a thing or two about James Barnes.

Warnings: Nazi mention, war mentions, a little bit of language

A/N: AHHHH tiktok gave me some of this dialogue and I nEEDED to write with it!

You’d heard about James Barnes.

He was a legend in your line of work. Rumor had it that he’d been to every lounge in Brooklyn. Many bartenders had spoken of serving him and the lady he’d selected for the evening. A lounge was his go-to date spot. We played music, served drinks, and had a pleasant atmosphere. The lounges in the area were always dark and easy to hide in. He’s courted a lot of different women. God forbid a past girl catches him with his newest woman. It hasn’t happened yet, so you’ve heard.

However, you have never met him. He has yet to stop by your lounge. He has yet to bring a date. You can’t blame him, your location was on the edge of town and kind of hard to get to. The narrow, unlit roads were daunting to those looking for a good time. A dark alleyway didn’t exactly scream ‘come visit!’.

The fact that he had been in the army didn’t exactly help. His long stint of courting a randomized girl every night got interrupted when America involved itself in the war. He was quickly shipped off, practically disappearing. His existence was ghost-like. Many mentioned him, both men and women alike. The gentlemen he’d done laboring with during long, grueling New York summers were speaking of him like an old friend. His name seemed like a memory on some of the female bar-goer’s lips. It seemed like he had never left. Even though you had never met him, all the stories you’d heard made it seem like you did. Many customers you met had known him. Simply, it became obvious he befriended a lot of people in the area. Nobody you’d met had something negative to say about the man. Since he left for war, many who stayed behind gained more respect for him.

Rumor has it he’s back.

Tuesday afternoon you were working a shift for a sick bartender when someone uttered interesting words.

“Bucky and Steve are back, they’re going on some victory tour or something. I heard Rogers got handsome while overseas, apparently, all the women in Europe have been swooning. My husband wrote me all about it!” A young woman sitting across the bar whisper-yelled. She couldn’t disguise her excitement for the news. However, it was hard to tell what she was more excited about, whether James and Steve are home or her husband had sent a letter.

You’d seen pictures of James. You could admit, he was an attractive man. You totally understood why he had women at his feet left and right. Usually, though, that meant they had an ego. You already dealt with that during your shifts at the lounge. You didn’t have time to entertain a cocky man that found himself to be king of the world. It just wasn’t in the cards.

As the afternoon melted into the evening, the lounge became a bit busier. Typically, Friday through Sunday was the busy days. Every now and again, it would pick up a little during the weekdays. However, this wasn’t a “picking up on a Tuesday” kind of busy. Something was going on, you thought. And then it all made sense.

James Barnes had waltzed into the creaky wooden door. He was wearing his brown Army uniform. A tan cap covered his brown hair, which has gotten a little longer since the most recent picture you’d seen. He also looked tired, the bottom of his eyes had sunken in and his eyelids were now permanently half-lidded. He didn’t look an ounce less handsome, though.

The moment he walked through the door, the volume of the lounge increased dramatically. Every single customer that could stand on their own two feet was loudly welcoming the solider home. James received many pats on the back from men playing billiards; who seemed to respect him for her service. He also had been on the receiving end of many hugs from women old to young. His grateful smile never faltered. He spoke to everyone that gave him the time of day. Never once did he seem annoyed or appalled at the sudden attention. All eyes were on him. Yet, he never shied away. He seemed like the same man you’d heard stories about.

Once he could get away from the welcome wagon, he dragged his feet towards the bar. The farther he got away from the crowd, the more his smile fell. If he was an actor, that would’ve been an award-winning performance.

“Sergeant Barnes, you’re shorter than I anticipated,” You said once he reached the bartop. Now that he was closer, you noticed the small cuts and scabs littered his face. The bridge of his nose housed a nasty gash, which was obvious from a puffy scar that now replaced it.

His tired eyes locked with yours, smiling at you. “That’s no way to welcome home a soldier,” His Brooklynn accent came poking through. It was thick, something that you’d mock to your friends the next time you see them.

“I’m afraid we’ve never met,”

“I’d remember if we did. I’d never forget a face like that,”

“Is that what you say to all the girls?” His mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. You’d rendered the quippy James Barnes speechless. Not many can say that based on the tales you’d heard. From the stories, you could tell he was part of the talkative bunch. He had a reputation to talk anyone’s ear off if he was given the chance. “What can I get you, James?”

He chuckled, sitting at a barstool. “Please, call my Bucky,”

“That’s not what I asked you,”

“Bourbon,”

You smile, “You like your gums feeling tingly?” You proceeded to carefully pour him some of the house bourbon, choosing to pour it into a short glass. It was wider than a shot glass, but a similar height. It was perfect for his larger hands to hold. He wouldn’t be able to drop it unless he did so purposefully.

Bucky took the glass as you slid it across the counter and instantly took a sip. After swallowing, he exhaled loudly. “You know, you’re the first person to not kiss my ass since getting home,”

“That’s not very gentleman-like language, Barnes,”

“Well I am a soldier, never claimed to have the mouth of an angel,”

You decided to leave him alone for a moment, choosing to tend to the other customers at the bar. You’d poured a few refills of water or whiskey, and made a few martinis. Every now and again, you’d steal a glance at James. He sat on his barstool in his lonesome. In fact, it’s the first time you’ve ever heard nor seen the man alone in a place like this. He always brought a date. His elbows laid on the stained bartop, leaning into his arms. He seemed slightly tired, more reserved than the James you’d always heard of. Besides his arrival, you hadn’t seen him speak to anyone. A few people tried to spark some conversation. Their attempts always consisted of questions about the war or his friend Steve Rogers.

You’d heard rumors about Steve Rogers too.

Steve and James were a package plan. You couldn’t get one without also getting the other. Since they were young, they’d been attached at the hip. Steve had a dream of joining the army when the war began. His father was a soldier, and he wanted nothing more than to follow in those footsteps. However, he was skinny and sick. He got denied time and time again. When Bucky left, it was difficult for him. Not soon after, Steve was getting escorted by military officials around the city of New York. Many figured he finally got caught lying on his enlistment forms. Then one day, he’s in the paper 150 pounds heavier and with more muscle than you had seen in your entire life.

And now the man is a war hero. He’s a symbol of an American victory.

And James Barnes is still just James Barnes. Suddenly the outgoing, all eyes on him, ladies man was cowering behind the shadow of his best friend. Since they got home, he’d been avoiding all questions about Steve. Avoiding any Captain America-related questions.

“Pretty damn quiet over here, Barnes,” You mutter, leaning onto the bartop. He flashes a small smile your way, sitting up at your presence.

“Not much people want to talk about besides killing nazis. I’m kind of tired of acting like some hero, though. I’m not this high and mighty guy everyone acts like I am. The only difference between me and them is the uniform. I’m no hero, I’m just a man in a tan uniform acting like something I’m not,” Bucky spoke quietly, staring at his hands that were folded in front of him. His small smile had turned into a sad one, reflecting his tone of voice.

“Incredibly untrue, Sargent. See Tommy over there? The one with the red billiards stick. His Momma forced him to enlist. He lied on his forms and said he had asthma and a past with pneumonia so he wouldn't get through. Then he went back and told his Momma they rejected him so he couldn’t fight. He really just wanted to stay behind and keep smokin’ those damn cigars with his pals,” The story you told was true. It was again, just a rumor you’d heard, but once you served his sister a few too many imported wine glasses and she got to talking. By 10 p.m you knew all the family’s deepest darkest secrets. You’d never tell them, though. Unless, of course, it was to cheer up a handsome pouty soldier on a Tuesday night.

“Is that true?”

“Truer than the sky being blue,” You held out your pinky to the man, suggesting a pinky promise. He held out his finger with a smile, wrapping his around yours enthusiastically. “There is a difference between you and him. He didn’t want to fight because he was selfish. You fought and saved a hell of a lot of people in the process. You have a good heart, James. Don’t undervalue yourself,”

His sad smile was long gone, a simple memory. His laugh replaced his once somber, hushed voice.

“You feel like an old friend,”

“A lot of people say that when I give them booze,” You manage to laugh. He laughs right along with you. When he laughs, his eyebrows raise up and cause some wrinkles on his forehead. His hairline seems to raise up along with his brows which is entertaining to watch.

He smiles, “Not like that. I feel like I’ve known you. I know I’ve never met you as I said, I’d never forget a face like that. You just seem so familiar. Like I’ve known you for a lifetime and then some,”

“Are you calling me old, Barnes?”

“I’d never dare to talk about a beautiful dames age!” James chuckled at your insinuation. He knew you were joking, it was obvious that it was just how you were. He could tell you had thick skin by the banter you kept up.

“With all this talk about my looks, I’m starting to think I’m the next on the ‘girl’s I’d like to take dancing’ list,” You joked. Without him even asking, you decided to pour him more of his drink. Usually, you’d have to charge for a refill. Hell, you forgot to even charge him for the first drink. Yet, he’s a soldier returning home. If your manager gave you hell for it, you’d explain the special circumstance.

All the rumors you’d heard of this man seemed to be drifting away. You’d been told gossip; not truths. This man wasn’t just some womanizer with no regard for feelings. James Barnes was far from a man that didn’t believe love existed, only beauty. James Barnes wanted to be loved. He didn’t want to be held on a pedestal for all to worship and speak about. He wanted his flaws to be just as cherished as his perfections.

“I can add you to the list if you’d like. You would be the only occupant and I’m willing to take you dancing as soon as possible,”

“See you tomorrow at 6?” You took the bait. The more you two talked, the more interested in him you became. He bantered back and forth with you and didn’t get offended at your silly comments. He never once made an offensive comment towards you, which was something you were used to as a bartender. And it would be a crime not to take note of his beautiful eyes and charming smile.

He smiled.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,”

And to think, a few rumors was the start of this all.

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onisuu · 5 years

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2019 ♧ bday

#cosette #2019 #happy chinese new year!!#i ate so much today heheh #made a japanese cheesecake too *u*#but i messed up today with making the merengue too soft so the cake ended up not being evenly spongey - having the bottom denser in texture #i can hang out with my bfffl tomorrow ahhh!!!!!#she's visiting from overseas ahhhh #best bday present hehe

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songofseraphine · 4 years

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Crossing Paths and Crossing Blades

Part Six of The Song of Seraphine

A/N: Hey all! Thank you for continuing tuning in to this series.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five

Fresh air blew at the curtains making even more sunlight flood the already bright room. Sera rolled over and buried her face in the pillows attempting to block out the light to no avail. The door to her chambers flew open and in came a young ashen haired girl who sprinted and then dove onto Sera’s bed. “Auntie Seraaaaaa,” she said now jumping up and down on the mattress. “Wake up, wake up, wake up!”

Sera jokingly groaned and rolled over then pulled even more covers over her face. The little girl crawled on top of her still form and gently pulled at the blankets, trying to uncover her face. Sera quickly sat up and wrapped her arms around the now squealing girl. “You have awoken the beast! Now you shall pay,” she said while getting up on her knees. She then tossed the little girl onto the bed and let out a laugh.

“No! I will get you beast!” she said then, after gathering her senses, she drew a pretend sword from her pretend sheath and held it towards Sera. “Ahhhh!” she screamed then dove at Sera again.

“Oh no! I have been slain!” said Sera while slowly sinking off the bed and onto the floor while clutching at her side.

Just then someone near the doorway of her chambers cleared their throat making Sera sit up straight. When she saw that her new visitor was just her friend she relaxed a little and began to stand up. “Ciri, what did I tell you about bothering your aunt before she has woken for the day?” she asked. Ciri, still sitting on the bed now looking quite disheveled looked down at the ground.

“No worries Pavetta, I really shouldn’t be sleeping in so late anyways,” she said then glanced over at Ciri. “The princess was just ensuring I didn’t waste an entire day in bed, isn’t that right?”

The young princess nodded with a wide smile. Pavetta shook her head but she was still smiling. “You both could get away with murder, I swear of it,” she said with a lighthearted laugh.

Sera looked at the princess and winked, earning a laugh in return. “Run along Ciri, I will join you for breakfast,” she said.

“For lunch,” said Pavetta with a smirk.

Sera smiled at her friend and nodded. “For lunch then, it seems I really was going to sleep the day away,” she said then watched as Ciri ran past her mother and out of her chambers. “Good morning, Your Highness,” she said with a curtsy and a hint of sarcasm.

Pavetta rolled her eyes and walked further into the room. “She adores you, you know. Sometimes I think more than she adores me,” she said while sitting down on the edge of the mattress.

Sera moved over to the changing screen and began pulling on a dress that would manage for a day in the castle. It was a simple light blue gown with a black bodice. “That’s because I don’t make the rules, Pavetta,” she said with a grin while peeking her head out from behind the screen.

She heard Pavetta laugh which made her smile. It had been nearly five years of Sera living in Cintra and she had grown accustomed to it. Rarely ever did she find herself yearning for the old adventures of killing monsters, stories that she now told a young Ciri. All were tales the four year old found astounding. “You would be a great mother,” said Pavetta, making Sera laugh as she came out from behind the changing screen now fully dressed.

“Pavetta, we both know my desire to have a child left long before I even knew you,” she said while walking over to where she sat. “Besides, then I wouldn’t get to be the fun one anymore,” she said with a grin.

“Well that makes me feel much better leaving her with you and my mother while Duny and I go overseas,” she said with sarcasm. Sera nudged her with her elbow, not really wanting to think about her friend going away for months on end.

“We have some time before that, Pavetta, let’s not dwell on that now,” she said while grabbing her friends hand and pulling her to her feet. “Now, your lovely daughter and your mother are most likely waiting for us to have their lunch. We should join them before I get blamed for our tardiness… again.”

They made their way out of her chambers and towards the dining hall where they would meet Calanthe and Ciri. “Has Mousesack given you more information about your mother?” asked Pavetta.

Sera shrugged her shoulders while looping her arm through Pavetta’s. “Nothing more than I have already told you. She was a sorceress that chose to live her life with a normal man, my father, instead of following other sorceresses to Aretuza,” she said as they continued walking. She thought for a moment about the last time she spoke to Mousesack. “He also said that he remembers seeing her again, after she had me and my sister, she came to him asking for spells,” she said with a shrug.

“Spells? But she wouldn’t have been able to cast them herself so why would she look for them?” she asked but Sera shrugged her shoulders again.

“He didn’t get the chance to say. Ciri interrupted, begging to go out and ride Vega,” she said with a grin.

At this Pavetta rolled her eyes. “You spoil her,” she said as they rounded the corner into the dining hall. They both took their seats, Sera’s beside Ciri just as the little girl insisted. They began to eat the meal that was placed in front of them in silence. When they were finished Pavetta whisked Ciri away for her lessons for the day, leaving Sera with Calanthe.

“My Granddaughter looks up to you, I think, more than she looks up to me or Pavetta,” she said. She didn’t sound upset about it though, instead it sounded like a compliment.

“The princess has become very important to me, Your Majesty. Ciri is such a headstrong girl, I think she gets that from your side,” she said making Calanthe smile. “Honestly, I didn’t think I would end up staying in Cintra this long. I planned on staying long enough to aid Pavetta in the birth of her child but after that I was going to return to life out there,” she said while nodding her head in the direction of the doors. “You have all treated me with nothing but kindness from the very beginning and I am grateful for that. I am truly indebted to you and your family, my queen.”

“Oh, dear girl,” she said as her brows furrowed. Sera wondered why she looked so upset and why she was suddenly at a loss for words. “Word came from your village early this morning. I had hoped to tell you in a better way…” she began. Sera’s heart was in her throat, knowing that whatever Calanthe had to say wasn’t good news. Since Sera had arrived and since the fall of the old mayor, Ferdand, Calanthe had sent her men off to the little village to keep watch on the remaining branch of Sera’s family. “Your sister is dead, it happened a few weeks ago but the word just reached us,” she said.

The chair Sera sat in scrapped across the ground as she stood up and placed her balled fists on the table. Her eyes brimmed with tears and she sniffled before she spoke. “How?” she asked. “How did my sister die?” her voice raised just a bit but she was not yelling at Calanthe.

She looked at the young women feeling guilty for having to be the bearer of bad news. “She was killed, they did not find who did it,” she said. Sera shoved herself back from the table and started walking out of the dining hall. “Seraphine, where are you going?” Calanthe called after her.

“I’m going to kill that bastard,” she said without stopping. She marched all the way to her room and threw open her door then made her way to her clothing chest. She ignored the fact that she could barely see and dug through the clothes trying to find her new riding trousers and the leather armor Pavetta and Calanthe had made for her the year before. She didn’t bother getting behind the changing screen as she ripped the skirts and corset from her body. When she finished pulling on her old clothes she went back to the chest to pull out her old travel bag then walked over to the chest she stored her bow, quiver and sword in.

As she pulled on her gear the door to her room opened and Pavetta walked in with Ciri trailing behind her. “So it is true, you are going,” she said while looking Sera up and down. It had been a long time since Pavetta had seen her dressed like that.

Sera looked at the floor knowing that if she looked up at her friend she would start to cry. “I have to, Pavetta, it was my sister,” she said while glancing at Ciri who looked back at her with large bright green eyes. Sera stepped closer to Pavetta and lowered her voice. “I cannot let that filth of a man live while her corpse rots in the earth,” she hissed then locked eyes with her friends. Whether it was out of fear or agreement Pavetta nodded then wiped at the tears that began to form in her own eyes.

“Be careful out there,” she said.

Sera nodded and wiped the back of her hand over her eyes before wrapping Pavetta in a tight hug. “Thank you,” she said before pulling back from her. She then knelt down to the ground at Ciri’s level and pulled the young, confused girl into a hug as well. “Be good for your mother and your grandmother,” she said then kissed the top of her head before standing back up. She gave her friend a nod then quickly left the room without looking back.

It didn’t take her long to get to the stables and she was surprised to see that someone had sent word to the stable hand to have Vega saddled up and ready. “Seraphine, I have something for you!” said the voice of Mousesack as he ran up to her in the stables. She turned to him and saw the folded parchment in his hand. “I am glad I caught you. I have written down the spell your mother was asking about and also this is a list of people I have found that your mother knew. If you ever want to learn more about her you should visit them,” he said. He did not try to talk her out of leaving Cintra nor did he tell her to not go after Ferdand. Instead he gave her a sad smile as he took her hand in his and gave it a tight squeeze. “Safe travels, my friend,” he said. She nodded then mounted her faithful horse and without taking much time to think about what exactly she was doing she rode off toward the village she used to call home.

After a few days of riding Sera arrived at the outskirts of her village. In the distance she could see her family’s windmill which brought on a wave of mixed emotions including nostalgia and sorrow. She hadn’t thought of what she was going to do once she got to her old home or what she was going to say to Will when she got there. Despite her uncertainty she continued to guide Vega towards the old cottage. As she approached from the edge of the forest that lined the backside of the house she dismounted from Vega and tied her off to a tree before going any further. The last thing she wanted was to come in contact with Faye’s children and have them think she was a spirit. She could not say the same for will. If Faye had done as Sera said last she spoke to her sister, her old lover thought she was dead as well.

Sera shook her head while walking up to the cottage and peered into the back window. If she wanted to avenge her sister’s death she had to swallow all of the insecurities and fears she had towards seeing Will again. The house was empty which was a good sign; she would be more likely to get Will alone. She walked around the cottage and when she came to the front she felt her heart break at the sight before her. The garden that once thrived with fresh produce was overgrown and half of the crop was rotten and the flowers that once lined the front were now wilted. Sera frowned at the fact that her sister was the life of this home and now that she was gone she knew it was cold. She looked out to the windmill and barn and made her way there to wait for Will’s return. It was getting to be supper time and if he was out on a hunt with the children, as she assumed he was, she would be able to catch him there, in the barn. At least her barn looked the same other than the sheen of dirt and dust that covered everything. In the past she had managed to keep the barn semi clean, just as her father had liked it. She climbed up in the loft and hid amongst the crates of things long forgotten then waited.

It wasn’t long when she started to hear voices approach the barn, which made her sink further behind the crates. “Deter, take your sister into the house and start supper, I will be there in a moment to help once I get Gayle put away,” said Willam as he walked into the barn pulling a larch black horse behind him. Sera noted how much older he looked now. She reminded herself that it had been over ten years since she had seen him last but time had drastically changed him. Even from her perch she could see the grey hairs that peppered his once raven locks and his face that was once smooth was now covered in a matching, peppered, beard hiding some of his wrinkles. Still, her heart swelled with emotion over gazing upon the first man she had ever loved now standing before her again after too many years.

As he began taking off all the gear from his horse she climbed down from the loft, plopping down in the center of the barn. The sound of her feet hitting the ground made him look in her direction and once his eyes landed on hers they grew as large as saucers. “Hello, Willam,” she said in a hushed tone. She noticed how he paled at the sight of her making her feel like this was a mistake.

“Seraphine,” he whispered and dropped the saddle he was holding in his hands. It hit the ground emitting a cloud of dirt to waft through the still air. “You’re dead, she told me you were dead,” he said, still in awe.

Some of her tension left at the realization that he knew it was her and not Faye’s ghost. “I had Faye tell you I was dead, it was safer that way,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion. She wanted to take a step towards him but he still looked so pale.

He stiffened and squared his shoulders before going back to putting the gear away. “She’s dead,” he said. He threw the saddle into an empty stall and practically ripped the blanket off of the horse.

“I know, that’s why I am here Will,” she said and he stopped again. This time she did step closer while he just stood there looking back at her with several emotions in his gaze.

“How did you find out? You haven’t been here in years yet not a month after she is dead you show up? How did you find out Sera?” he asked, taking a giant step towards her. He towered over her, always had, but the anger he held in his voice made her want to shrink back.

“It’s a lot to explain… I… I have been living in Cintra as a lady of court and a guest of honor for saving the Princesses life,” she said and couldn’t tell if it was annoyance in his eyes or just hatred for her having a charmed life in court. “The queen gifted me whatever I wanted so I told them my story and they promised that Ferdand would be struck down from his power,” she told him.

His eyes widened again and he ran his calloused hands through his hair. He turned away from her and she noticed that now his hands were balled into fists. “You did this,” he said, his voice once again low. Sera took a step back from her and shook her head. “When I got home to find Faye bleeding out on the floor she kept saying his name. And when I asked her why he did this she said he knew,” he said.

Sera shook her head. “He couldn’t have figured it out. Not unless he overheard… no,” she said as tears began to blur her vision. He was right though this was her fault even if it was unintentional. “I was just trying to get him off his pedestal, I was never to be mentioned. The queen had her men watch over you all one of them must have said something about me and in passing… Will, I am so sorry,” she said as her body shook.

“Sorry? My wife is dead, Sera. My children lost their mother because of you,” he said now yelling down at her. There was nothing but hate in his eyes and she couldn’t take that from him any longer. She wiped at her eyes and stepped back, starting to leave the barn. “You’re just going to leave now? Did you just come to give your condolences then return to your home in a palace?” his voice was louder than she had ever heard it since knowing him.

“I’m sorry, Will, I am sorry. I am going to make this up to you and your children… and to Faye… I am so sorry,” she said. She was a sobbing mess as she continued to back out of the barn. “I came back not to gloat on my situation, but to get more information,” she wiped her eyes again and took a deep breath. “I come to kill that bastard. And to make sure that the last breath he takes is because of me,” she told him, her voice getting a little stronger now.

He was shaking his head. “It can’t be fixed, Seraphine, even with his death,” he said, now looking at the ground. “I want you gone and I don’t want you to ever return. This isn’t your home anymore and I want you to get the hell out,” he said as his teeth ground together.

Sera straightened her shoulders and nodded. “I’m sorry, Will,” she whispered then ran out of the barn and back to Vega. She mounted her horse quickly and rode off blindly for her eyes were filled with tears.

The sun was setting as Sera drank from the large stream just a few miles from her village. After leaving her old home she rode to the stream to collect her thoughts and to hatch a plan on just how she was going to execute everything. Thanks to the information given to her by the queen’s men long ago, she knew that Ferdand lived in a small shack just on the edge of the village. It was secluded just enough that she wouldn’t be seen sneaking around. She would make sure he was home by peering into the windows and then enter through a window or door, whichever was easily accessible. Her hope was that he would be sleeping by that time of night and she could catch him off guard, just as she had done with other monsters in the past.

“Vega, tonight I will keep you untied, just outside of his home that way we can get out before anyone notices. It will be quick and quiet,” she said. Her friend didn’t make a sound and she only blinked back at Sera. She began to think about what she would do when this was over. Part of her wanted to return to Cintra to be with Pavetta and Ciri while the part of her that had been lost due to the death of her sister wanted nothing more than to disappear into the earth herself. She let out a sigh and peered up at the canopy above her. She had missed this, the sounds of nature and being outside. That was something that Cintra didn’t really give her. Just then she heard a twig snap a ways from her and her attention shot in that direction. She stood and grabbed Vega’s reins as she waited to see what was causing the rustling that was slowly coming towards them. Slowly she unsheathed her sword and stood at Vega’s side. A tall, brown colored animal came out of the brush and made its way to the stream before them, not taking much regard for the pair. “Roach?” she asked and the horse looked in her direction for a mere second then returned to the stream to gulp down more water. If she was here that meant Geralt had to be somewhat nearby. She wanted to laugh at the pure coincidence of it all. Five years, five entire years and now she is running into that man again, or rather his horse this time. And she knew it was Roach judging by the white stripe on her face and the fact that there was still a single sword strapped to the saddle with enough space to hold another. And that saddle was so unique and exotically designed that it had to be her due to the fact that Geralt travelled so much. Sera, still holding onto Vega’s reins, walked over to Roach and reached out to pet her. She didn’t stir, showing Sera that she trusted her. She grinned and tied off Vegas reigns to the side of Roach’s saddle then mounted the brown horse.

Roach didn’t seem to mind Sera riding upon her and soon a familiar whistle was heard. Sera was impressed with the instant attention Roach took to the whistle and even though she was still thirsty she galloped on towards it with no hesitation. Sera made sure Vega was keeping up with them as they rode on. Another whistle sounded, this one was closer, making roach speed up. As they rode into a clearing, Sera’s gaze fell on the sight of Geralt knelt down before three dead arachas as he collected useful items from them. She cleared her throat and his gaze shot over to her. “Hello, Geralt,” she said while jumping off the back of Roach.

“Seraphine,” he said as he raised his dark brows in surprise. He stood and walked over to where she still stood with Vega and Roach. “What are you doing here?” he asked as she pulled her freshly filled water skin from her saddlebags and held it out to him.

“I was at the stream, resting for a bit,” she said with a small grin. “I see you were taking care of a small infestation problem,” she said as she glanced at the carcasses of the arachas.

“Yes, your village had a contract out for them,” he said after taking a long drink from the water skin. His brows were furrowed as he looked her up and down. He noted that she looked too armored to be simply resting at the stream.

“Yes it seems the village has a theme of having monster problems lately. Those and the human kind,” she said while taking the water skin back from him and putting it back in the saddle bag. “It’s been years, Geralt, and you haven’t changed a bit. I guess that’s a pro from the mutagens, huh?”

“Seraphine, what do you mean human monsters? Why are you here and not in Cintra?” he asked, ignoring her other comment. He feared the response and he had a right to. He didn’t know her well but he did know that Sera was one that made quick and brash decisions and she was hard headed so her mind wouldn’t be changed.

He watched as she clenched her jaw at his question, or rather the thought of the answer. “I am here for Ferdand, if you must know. Tonight I plan on killing the son of a bitch,” she said, her words like ice. He didn’t get the chance to ask why she was planning on taking someone’s life because she told him before he could. “He murdered Faline… he killed my sister in cold blood, Geralt,” she said.

“You can’t take a life,” he told her, his expression softening. He could see it now, the tension and sorrow that racked her body. She looked exhausted yet also looked as if she would explode at the wrong words.

“And he can? Am I to stand aside and accept that he can take a life… the life of my sister? She was a wife… she was a mother, Geralt,” she hissed while stepping back to Vega, suddenly wanting to leave.

“You’ve never taken a life, have you?” he asked. She didn’t answer, she didn’t have to, he could see it written all over her face. “It changes you but it won’t solve anything. Killing him won’t make you feel better about what has happened, it won’t bring your sister back either,” he told her.

She blinked at his words as if they hurt her. “I have to,” she whispered. “I have to see his blood spill at my hand. You don’t understand,” she said while shaking her head. She couldn’t help but feel slightly betrayed. Geralt’s sole job as a witcher was to kill monsters; even he had to know that some monsters were just wearing a human disguise. She took hold of Vegas reigns and was about to mount her saddle when Geralt grabbed a hold of her arm.

“I can’t let you,” he said, his golden orbs peering into her. He looked as if he was begging with her to make the decision to not go on a rampage. But she couldn’t. She had to rid the world of that man.

She attempted to pull out of his grasp but he wouldn’t give. “Why, Geralt, he is a monster, you should be fine with it,”

“You don’t want that blood on your hands, it won’t help with what you are feeling,” he said, still holding onto her arm.

“Geralt, don’t do this,” she said with pleading eyes. “I told Will I would kill that man and that is what I plan to do. You are not stopping me just because you have this new definition of who does and does not deserve to die. Ferdand has caused me years of pain and loneliness and I will not let you stand in my way of repaying him what he is owed.”

He shook his head and she tried to free herself once more before reaching her other hand to wear her sword was strapped onto the saddle. Geralt heard the metal being unsheathed and jumped back unsheathing his own sword. “Fuck,” he said. “Sera, don’t do this,” he was begging her now but she swung at him nonetheless.

“Then let me go. Let me do what I came here to do, Geralt,” she said as they danced around one another, swords ready to deflect any attack. But he shook his head so she swung at him again. The sound of their swords clashing together rang through Sera’s ears as they continued their battle.

He found himself admiring her fluid movement and the strength in her form. They struggled against one another and she shoved herself back from him so they could return to circling one another. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her so he didn’t know what he was going to do. He hoped she would just tire herself out and give up but he knew she wasn’t the giving up type and he admired that about her as well. He found this woman to be an interesting one and that was the reason behind the fact that for four five years she haunted his thoughts.

He swung at her and she attempted to dodge it but fell back into the earth instead. He pointed his blade at her and she dropped hers, surrendering. “Dammit, Geralt,” she said, letting her head rest back on the earth in frustration.

“Come with me, we can leave this behind,” he said with a nod in the direction of the village. He held his free hand out to her and she accepted it. He pulled her to her feet then bent down to pick up her sword.

“Where would we go?” she asked.

He glanced at her before turning away to put both of their swords in his own holder on Roach’s saddle. “Wherever you wanted,” he told her.

She nodded but with his back to her she knelt down for a nearby rock hoping that he wouldn’t hear her over the sound of him packing his things away. “I can’t go anywhere till I finish this, Geralt, I am sorry,” she said and before he could turn around she hit the back of his head with the stone and watched him fall to the ground in an unconscious heap. She quickly gathered her sword and mounted Vega. “Stay with him, Roach,” she said to the other horse then rode off to carry out the task she returned for.

It didn’t take her long to get back to the village. She made sure to come up behind the area she knew his shack was found and tied Vega off at the edge of the forest. She gave her friend a pat on her side and grabbed her sword then headed towards the dim glow of the village. She came up behind the cottage and noticed that the window was open. She peered inside to see that the main room was empty and that he must be sleeping in the side room. She lifted herself through the window silently and put her feet on the dirt ground of the inside of the home. Her sword was already unsheathed before she arrived so she walked to the small side room with it at the ready. She was surprised to see the man sitting up in his small bed with his gaze on the doorway. “I knew one of you would come, though I thought it would be the boy first,” he said as he looked up at her. “You look the same as you always have, Seraphine,” he told her.

She lowered her sword but still held onto it tightly. “Why did you do it?” she asked as tears began to well in her eyes.

He looked up at her with no expression. “Do you think I didn’t know it was her this whole time? I was mesmerized by Faline. You may be her twin but I was always able to tell you two apart,” he said then let out a bitter laugh. “I give you credit though. Having her stay with your lover, even going as far as having a family with him… it was a good idea. The men sent from Cintra made that fact even more obvious.”

“If that’s true, why did you follow me all those years? If you knew she was right under your nose this whole time…” she said, anger now edged her voice.

“At first it was to get back at you because you thought it would be easy to trick me. Then it became an obsession, the same as the one I had for your sister. When they claimed you were dead thanks to the word of that lying witcher, it was all over for me. When I lost my position as mayor and knew that Faline had children of her own I was at a loss. Everything that I thought was in my control was now ripped from my hands,” he said. She was surprised at how upset he sounded but knew it was all for selfish reasons. “Then one of my men had the luck of attending court for some time in Cintra. When he returned a month ago he told me of a woman that matched your description. It threw me into a rage, Seraphine, to know that you indeed had gotten away with everything and that you were still living. Your sister was the closest one I had to inflict that rage upon,” he told her then looked up at her with red, tired eyes.

She would not feel pity for this man but she could see the mental turmoil he had put himself through due to her and her sister. “You murdered the mother of two children… the wife of a good man… and you expect me to have pity for you?” she seethed. “I have seen much of this continent, Ferdand, I have fought many monsters you know this. But never have I crossed one as vile as you. And never will I take as much joy in killing one as I will when I kill you,” she told him.

He reached for the mug on the floor near the bed and took a long drink and she allowed this. “My pet, I have more joy in knowing I am taking that from you,” he told her. And as she furrowed her brows in confusion he began convulsing and spewed a mix of liquid and blood from his mouth.

Sera watched as he fell back onto the bed while reaching his hand out to her, gargling on bodily fluids. “You bastard!” she said while dropping to her knees beside the bed. She grabbed him by the collar of the shirt and shook him. “You can’t take this from me!” she cried. Tears ran down her face as she watched the life leave his body. She let out a sound one could only describe as true despair. “Dammit!” she said then sank to the ground, resting her back on the door frame. Then she cried.

Moments later the main door to the shack opened but Sera didn’t move from the spot she sat in. She instead continued to stare at the lifeless form of the man she had known as her enemy almost her entire life. He had taken everything from her, including the chance of her avenging her sister’s death. She didn’t have to look up to know that it was Geralt who entered the shack; she had figured he would come looking for her once he regained consciousness. “He’s dead. I didn’t do it… but he’s dead and I should feel better knowing it but it still hurts,” she said and looked up to see his yellow eyes staring back at her. She couldn’t take the amount of pity she got from his gaze so she returned her own back to the ground. “I’m not supposed to hurt… he is dead,” she whispered.

Geralt said nothing; he only gathered her up in his arms and carried her out of the shack, making sure to grab her sword as he left. He had already pulled Vega around to the other side of the shack. He put Sera on the back of Roach then tied Vega off to his own saddle. He then mounted Roach behind Sera and wrapped an arm around her to keep her from falling off. He rode to the next village over and paid for a room at the inn along with a board for the horses then carried her still silent form to the room.

He sat her down on the bed and knelt down so he could look at her. Her eyes were open but she wasn’t seeing. He felt a wave of emotions flow through him as he looked at the woman he used to know as strong. She was a crumbling mess, an emotionless void. He stood and began to move to the chair nearby. “Please don’t leave me,” she whispered.

He turned back to her, feeling his heart drop at her plea. He moved back to the bed and sat down on the edge as she lay back onto the pillow. “I’ll be here,” he promised. She watched him for a moment as if she didn’t believe him, as if she thought he would leave once she closed her eyes. But after he gave her a reassuring nod she let her eyes close and sleep overcame her.

#the witcher #witcher fanfiction #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher oc #the witcher x oc #Geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt fanfiction #geralt x oc #the song of seraphine #love #burning slowly #like very slowly

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demyrie · 5 years

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I'm curious but why did you delete JAM? It was one of my favorite JxD fics and I never got to finish reading it.

ahhhh oh dear, yeah, that happened.

So, for everyone arriving, I wrote a fic called Just Another Mission for the Jak and Daxter game series, and Jak/Daxter pairing. Yes, the green haired elf protag with the fuzzy orange thing, which btw used to be a human and was a human in fic. I think I started it when I was maybe 14 (yikes omg) and a few years ago, I deleted it, and I don’t delete fics.

Rant and personal history ahead, but tldr; i deleted this particular fic because:

1) I became more and more uncomfortable with the way I’d treated certain characters without giving them respect or resolution (throwing around things like domestic abuse while being too young to properly understand What I Was Doing or How to Answer Very Triggered Friends Who Had the Misfortune of Reading This I’m So Goddamn Sorry, as well as falling into that Not Like Other Girls slash fan ditch of treating female characters like shit/obstacles to the main pairing WHICH IS JUST ******) as well as personally uncomfortable portrayals of obsession and taking advantage of people that turn my stomach to this day (see reason 4)

2) i got way in over my head with my own writing/style which was so obtuse and self-indulgent that I felt a great amount of shame over it, including the attention it had gotten, and the way it went to my head and turned me into an egotistic little shit. I was an asshole peacock and I regret it. There was a break where I got waylaid before the final confrontation in the fic (see reason 4, also a very bad time to get held up in any narrative) and when I returned to the story, i nearly cried because it was such a mess and I didn’t know what I was saying anymore. Finishing it was a struggle and I even remember one JnD fan friend being like “hey this chapter seemed really curt??? short?? not like you” and I was like YEAH THATS NOT ME ANYMORE god i hope

3) there was a sort of ... anti-JxD surge in my little pool from people I really respected and it made me think i was doing something wrong even just remembering it, so I cut off that memory.

4) it coincided with two ugly relationships in my life that marred it, and I just wanted it gone for my own mental health.

So anon, I’m very sorry that you never got to finish it. I had good intentions in mind and gave them a happy ending where they realized they loved each other, even if the journey there was difficult.

It both touched me and broke a piece of my heart when someone came to me years ago and asked me why I had deleted it, saying the story had given them the courage to come out as gay to their family. In that moment, overwhelmed with how ProblematicTM the whole story was, I was really struck with just ... how subjective our world experience is, and how so many things can mean so many different things to every single soul and how terrifyingly VALID peoples experiences are, no matter how they come by them. We’re all so unique and convoluted, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure -- and one man’s trigger is another man’s key to Becoming. But no matter how inspiring, I couldn’t bring myself to repost it.

Hopefully this will be the only fic i ever delete with relish. Jak and Daxter will always be a good memory for me, regardless. Thanks for the ask, anon.

(even more) personal stuff below the cut. tw for stalking, harassment, manipulation and emotional abuse.

So.

Im a firm believer in stories living beyond their authors (something that JK rowling doesnt seem to understand iykwim). I don’t normally delete past works, because while I wrote them, I also know that they’ve outgrown me as most narratives do: people are absolutely allowed to enjoy what they want to or need to, not just because I think said thing is reflective of my current work or jives with my current stage of life.

However, JAM was a particular Thing that Had to Go.

The timeline is hella fuzzy to me because I’ve blocked a lot of it out, but I was coming out of middle school and struggling with my mental health. On the real life side, I was stuck in a situation with a close friend of mine who was very fixated on us being in a relationship and the pining was loud enough to hear from the other side of the country. Wounded people pleaser that I was, I flipped (exhaustingly) back and forth between “i dont like you like that” and “but I want you to be happy so what if I tried liking you like that?” and there was massive amounts of hidden hurt and resentment and tension and abandonment complex activation and just ... a strangling of anything that made our friendship good for either of us.

Also she was a she. So. Yannoe, gay is difficult.

This definitely burnt me out on the “best friends pining” trope and is probably legit the ONLY reason I’m not equally in the erasermic and erasermight camp haha. That trope feels claustrophobic and draining to me, so I leave it for others to enjoy.

It also coincided with a married 45yo adult man luring me into a “platonic, ecstatic, boundary-breaking, you-are-my-beautiful-young-muse, words cannot express how much I love you” creative type relationship that inevitably turned possessive, domineering and manipulative. Within the bounds of the Renaissance Faire community, I thought he was a safe person and he was not, and his constant reassurance that I wasn’t like other women my age was absolutely hypnotizing to a undeveloped soul who really, really wanted to be special.

We traded poetry and tarot card readings over email. He bought me manga and shared stories about his time overseas and in the service. He made me props to go with my renaissance faire character and showed me where to find cheap leather so I could piece things together myself.

He also stalked me and owned me for the better part of a year and I only realized it once he started harassing a dear friend of mine overseas, whom I was visiting, about a package that he’d sent, which apparently he’d covered in original poetry to let me know how much he loved me But Not In a Hetero or Sexual Way Bro, so of course he didn’t want it to get lost in the postal system. So what is he going to do? Note my friend twice a day asking if its arrived until she inevitably, tearfully spills that this guy is stressing her out and who is he anyway?

My horrible secret was out, which only sounded horrible when I explained it to someone else. I realized this man was trying to follow me wherever i went and I got so fucking angry that he was messing with my friend that I had to stop it.

(He called me a cunt when I broke it off with him on the phone in the dark on the floor of my bedroom in the middle of the night so my parents wouldn’t hear, then sobbed and said he was sorry. I was so dissociated from the rush of anger and helplessness that it took for me to actually MAKE the call that all I could do was wiggle my foot and watch it in the reflection of the mirror on the back of my door, and think maybe I was a cunt but I wasn’t his cunt anymore. So there.

Afterward I slammed my forehead into the mirror a few times to make sure I’d actually done it and it wasn’t a dream.)

During all of this, I was writing this stupid fic. I think. Honestly, I don’t fucking know, but I can’t think of it without thinking of him and how i was devoured.

The stress of hiding this “totally wonderful but NORMAL PEOPLE DONT UNDERSTAND WHAT WE HAVE!!!!” grooming shit from my parents was gutting me alive, and I was so far gone RE: worthiness/autonomy that I didn’t even consider why I BOTHERED diffusing his petulant accusations over notes on deviantArt again and again as he baited me into shit just to explode over how I didn’t love him and I figured out another way to soothe his engorged and tarry ego without explicitly lying that I loved him too.

He made me regret my silver tongue and way with words as I used it to defend myself again and again, and crushed my love of writing. I would pace the neighborhood for almost an hour several times a week, claiming I was ‘exercising’ but really trying to understand why i felt so trapped, or where the lines between love and hate lay, or why I wanted to cry all the time, as i low key tried to get hit by a car just to force something to change in my life and jolt me out of his smothering, needy nightmare of constant texting and emails and notes. I couldn’t fucking flinch without him knowing about it, and asking me if I was okay. For this reason, I react very poorly to people fretting over me at length, and loudly. I get angry and feel violated, or just pinned to the floor by someone Performing their love on me with no real regard for my health.

This whole time, I was escaping into fandom. It probably saved my life, in one way or another, because I found friends who supported me and made me laugh in the JnD sphere. Especially the friend whose distress caused me to snap and realize This Couldn’t Continue.

This terrible man was the first one outside of my friend group that I showed my writing to, the first adult as well. It was on the dark side even then, but he said it was wonderful and amazing. He teased me for being stuck up in my authors notes on JAM (one of the reasons I’m just getting over ... talking ...) but said it inspired him to start writing as well. He used that writing to imagine hokey sprawling stories of him being a hot rod racer and me being his sexy girlfriend, Very Totally in Love. Why Couldn’t We have Just Met in a Different Lifetime??? not that its a relevant question for my young 16yo friend lol just something dreamers wonder lol lol here why don’t you take this traditional irish engagement ring aka claddagh i bought for you, lie to your parents and say I bought one for everyone in our renfaire group, and turn it toward your heart, to imply that you’re in love, so that I can keep your heart safe for you until you find a boyfriend?

FUCKER YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKER ok I’m done. Fuck.

JAM was a project of mine that spanned a year or two and is intrinsically tangled in those very bad relationships and very bad lessons. I deleted it because I needed to, for purely personal reasons beyond the fact that it was generally bombastic, over-long, tone-deaf and dealt with very serious issues poorly. Due to these experiences, you won’t catch me in a hot minute writing either best-friends-pining or heavy jealousy/possessiveness fic, but everyone else? Go crazy just tag your shit.

so. anyway. isn’t subjectivity actually terrifying? You never know what something can mean to someone else. So just ask, maybe.

Damn, son. Some fics you just can’t repost.

#just another mission #jam #demyrie writes #personal #abuse #stalking #emotional manipulation #i would say p/edophilia but this site doesnt know what that means and this isnt it either so how about abuse of a minor #recovery #mental health #suicidal ideation #triggers #Anonymous

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xxlostinthedragonxx-blog · 7 years

Text

I was tagged by the lovely @kamelodi and @monkeecamsie

Rules: answer these 92 statements and tag 10 people.

THE LAST:

1. Drink: ginger orange juice

2. Phone call: my friend, who’s settled overseas and asking me to visit her

3. Text message: my best friend, sending me not so subtle indications that she’s dropping for dinner and what she wants to eat, lol

4. Song you listened to: rockstar, nickelback

5. Time you cried: i didn’t cry but was definitely teary eyed when my team hugged me and crashed on top of me, we won the best team award at work!

HAVE YOU:

6. Dated someone twice: ahhh, no

7. Kissed someone and regretted it: not really..

8. Been cheated on: yes, but not romantically

9. Lost someone special: yes

10. Been depressed: definitely had my phases...

11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: only once...

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS:

12-14: as an artist it is hard for me to say which color I love, but if I had to name 3, it will be - midnight blue, sunset orange and sunflower yellow..

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU:

15. Made new friends: definitely, they have come to mean the world to me..! YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE!!

16. Fallen out of love: nope, not yet.... not in the last nine years :)

17. Laughed until you cried: always!! I am always surrounded by people with amazing sense of humor.. - only last week I laughed so hard that i slid out of my chair and landed on the floor at work // someone made a joke on the lines of ‘i am so much drowned in work that i have no time to die’-

18. Found out someone was talking about you: yes, been an enlightening experience

19. Met someone who changed you: yes, throughout the years

20. Found out who your friends are: yes. true friends are hard to find

21. Kissed someone on your Facebook list: lol, yes

GENERAL:

22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: i don’t add people i don’t know personally?

23. Do you have any pets: nope, but i really want to.. but i move around a lot, so it’s hard for me to get one

24. Do you want to change your name: nope, never

25. What did you do for your last Birthday: i was out with my friends and my partner and had a lot of fun at the movies and then at our favorite restaurant before hitting my favorite pub

26. What time did you wake up: noon

27. What were you doing at midnight last night: i was on my way home from work

28. Name something you can’t wait for: exo comeback and their new tour... so i can go to manilla and meet my loved ones... also a bb/gd concert

29. When was the last time you saw your mom: ahhhh, so..umm... she passed away when i was seven

30. What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: i really realy wanna own a bookshop and motivate people to read

31. What are you listening right now: a jjy song, sympathy

32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: lol, no

33. Something that is getting on your nerves: office politics

34. Most visited Website: aff, ao3, tumblr, twitter

LOST QUESTIONS.

35. Mole/s: ya, a beauty spot right on the upper left corner of my lips

36. Mark/s: loads, i am totally accident prone

37. Childhood dream: a detective, lol.... now i apply them to exo and kaisoo

38. Hair Colour: mahogany brown, RIGHT NOW I HAVE THE SAME HAIR COLOR AS KYUNGSOO ----SCREAMS-----

39. Long or short hair: asymmetrical bob

40. Do you have a crush on someone: lol yes, but sadly all of them are fictional characters, but they are real af for me

41. What do you like about yourself: i can spend a whole day in the couch without moving a bit

42. Piercings: 4, only my ears though

43. Blood type: b+

44. Nickname: lol there are..... whoever knows me already knows it... whoever doesn’t, if we become friends, you will know of it, BUT I HAVE SOMEONE WHO CALLS ME SWEETOO, you know who you are

45. Relationship status: married, lol

46. Zodiac: capricorn, YES I FUCKING SHARE MY BIRTHDAY MONTH WITH KAISOO, STEP ON ME

47. Pronouns: she/her

48. Favorite TV Show: omg that is loads, okay so i’ll name my all time favorites and my recent favorites - nodame cantabile, criminal minds, person of interest and goblin, scarlet heart ryeo, W, beautiful mind, strong woman

49. Tattoos: yes, i think i have four or three, lol

50. Right or left hand: leftie

51. Surgery: nope, i escaped one very recently

52. Hair dyed in different color: when i was in college, i went dark blue, but now i am a mahogany brown

53. Sport: badminton

54. Vacation: i haven’t had a long one in sometime

55. Pair of trainers: lol, just a pair of running shoes, if they count

MORE GENERAL:

56. Eating Currently: nothing, i just had a heavy indian brunch

57. Drinking currently: nothing

58. I’m about to: snuggle deep in my couch

61. Waiting for: it to rain

62. Want: to stop adulting and ready to work for kaisoo

63. Get married: already am

64. Career: programmer by day, artist by night

WHICH IS BETTER

65. Hugs or kisses: cuddles and snuggling, lol

66. Lips or eyes: eyes

67. Shorter or taller: i like tall people but i am super protective of my smol friends

68. Older or younger: doesn’t matter

70. Nice arms or nice stomach: lol both./..

71. Sensitive or loud: both, depending on moments

72. Hook up or relationship: relationship... always...

73. Troublemaker or hesitant: troublemaker!!!

HAVE YOU EVER:

74. Kissed a stranger: nope...

75. Drank hard liquor: yes

76. Lost glasses/contact lenses: yes!!!! AND, CONSIDERING I AM AS BLIND AS A BAT WITHOUT THEM, IT WAS A MESS

77. Turned someone down: well yes

78. Sex in the first date: nope!

79. Broken someone’s heart: yes, i guess, every time i turned down someone

80. Had your heart broken: yes, not romantically

81. Been arrested: lol, no

82. Cried when someone died: yes

83. Fallen for a friend: ah no... but it did happen the other way round

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:

84. Yourself: who am i?

85. Miracles: i don’t believe in miracles, but i do believe in fate or kismet

86. Love at first sight: nope..

87. Santa Claus: lol no

88. Kiss in the first date: ahh, no

89. Angels: definitely...!

OTHER:

90. Current best friends’ names: pdq - even though we haven’t known each other for a long time you should know how much you mean to me, blade, suche, and my forever bff harry

91. Eyecolor: chocolate brown

92. Favorite movie: honestly, there are too many to list here...but one of my all time favorites will forever be ddlj, i am sure you guys will not know of it

so imma gonna tag a few people who are already tagged to this, @wuace @tipahnoona @kimchispaghetti @livinka-n-diland @kyungception @dika-dika @loyalkaisoo @tintinepots @toomanyfeelsexogdi (you don’t have to if you don’t want to)

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beauticate · 6 years

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Fiona Myer, Entrepreneur

It was perfect timing that just as we launched our brand new Interiors section, Melbourne doyenne Fiona Myer was kind enough to open up her beautiful Toorak home to us. She shared how her career began as a model in Paris (it’s not always glamorous, but it makes for a great story) and the path that has led her to her current cherished roles as founder and creative director of White Story, and long-time patron of the Victorian art scene. And yes, she tells us all about her go-to beauty products she uses to create her favoured “less is more” look, and some affordable ways to bring the outside into your own home.

“I found myself in Paris at 21 after being head hunted to join the Glamour agency.

From there I travelled to some obscure parts of the world and have some amazing memories. Fashion shows on jumbo jets. Work in Beirut the day before war broke out. Barbados shooting swimwear, when the boat ran out of fuel while I was water skiing. I landed in a coral reef filled with sea urchin tentacles, and they took me off the shoot while I had each tentacle burned out over many days. There were hoax appointments, getting locked in cage lifts, a skiing shoot when the gondola closed due to high wind (the ski patrol was closed too, so we were left swaying recklessly well into the night). On that occasion I was lucky, because the shoot was for Courrèges and I was laden with fur coats. My clients included Yves Saint Laurent, Revillon, Sprung Frères... life was never dull.

After a good stint in Paris I came home to Australia, ready for a more grounded career.

Deciding to take a huge pay cut from modelling, I started work at the Georges Department Store in the promotions department. Outside of my life in Paris, Georges was my exposure to the world of couture. It was intoxicating working with the likes of Dior, Fendi, Lanvin, Givenchy and Celine. I was then headhunted down to Myer in Bourke Street to work as a fashion forecaster. After running a number of small businesses including luxury homewares from Myanmar and a collection of furniture, sleep wear and accessories, I have now taken on my biggest challenge of all: White Story.

It’s no surprise that retailing is a tough business, especially now.

We employ a vibrant, young team – I have emphasised employing people under 30. With my kids living away, it is the young team at White Story that get me out of bed in the morning. I feel needed and have a purpose. Without them realising it, they are keeping me young while teaching me the way of Gen Y.

It’s my hope that in my small way, White Story can provide a platform for young people to move seamlessly from student life, to their first internship and subsequently their first job.

My approach to beauty is simply less is more.

You would think after all those years of modelling I would apply makeup generously, but no - perhaps it was because I had it put on for me for all those years by professionals. One thing is for sure: the older you get, the less time you want to spend applying makeup.

My daily routine always starts with washing my face in cold water and drinking a glass of warm water. I head off for a swim, then shower with Alpha Keri oil and moisturise with Actinica SPF 50+ lotion. Then I apply La Mer foundation, a light brush of bronzer, Trish McEvoy mascara and I’m out the door.

My go-to shop for cosmetics has to be Mecca.

Jo Horgan and her team have nailed it. It’s easy, it’s accessible and it has every brand and product I could possibly want, including my favourite Diptyque oversized candles. My favourite perfume is a toss up depending on my mood, though I like Laurent Mazzone Parfums O Des Soupirs or Diptyque Oyédo. I think Kiehl’s makes the ultimate hand cream, and in terms of treatments I always have Clarins Gentle Peeling Smooth Away Cream to hand. Then there is good old Dermaveen Soap Free Wash which I use as a makeup remover and finally BAKEL makeup remover for eyes (Ed. note: not currently available in Australia). What else is in my kit? By Terry’s Hyaluronic Hydra Primer, Trish McEvoy blush, NARS Orgasm blush, Trish McEvoy highlighter, and the Hourglass Arch Brow Sculpting Pencil.

My personal style is pared-back, clean and uncluttered – the way I would like to think my mind is!

My wardrobe is quite androgynous. Weekend wear is Givenchy menswear shirts and hipster jeans. Unwashed hair with little or no make up. After all, we spend our weekends at our farm and usually see no one. When it comes to dressing up, I’m in maxi evening pinafore dresses, either with a crisp white shirt or combining black organza and velvet. For the most part my go-to designers are young and unknown Japanese designers. When I’m committed to shopping I’m heading straight to Comme des Garçons, The Row, Victoria Beckham and Celine.

As I head towards 60 next November, I feel so blessed to have an incredibly supportive husband who keeps me sane.

We relax together. Week nights are bliss at home on our own. We light the fire in winter in my study, set the table at my old French leather desk, open up a full bodied red and say ahhhh - we talk for hours. Everything gets covered off in a full night: kids, holidays, White Story, the farm; there’s never nothing to talk about. It’s truthfully my favourite thing to do. My husband is after all my best friend. My other best friends are all living away – my children! The three of them are working either interstate or overseas, and I feel fortunate that they are all pursuing exciting opportunities and making own futures.

I used to meditate religiously and I must get back into it. I’ve had a couple of months off and it shows. I’m so much calmer and more focused when I meditate.

I have always loved exercise. I swim daily come winter or summer – it is non-negotiable.

I walk to work and often meet a friend for brekky along the way. I am definitely not a gym junkie and gave Pilates away years ago. I need to be outdoors.

I usually cook fish at home (normally salmon) with my own marinade of ginger, garlic, Tamari sesame oil, and maple syrup. I serve it with masses of wok veggies and my sweet potato purée, with added fresh ginger and a dash of sesame oil.

I’m lucky to have some wonderful health practitioners that help me through life.

I regularly have acupuncture and see a wonderful chiropractor. I have a weekly NET session with my kinesiologist to clear everything out. I just don’t have time to let small things get in my way. I also visit a bio-energiticist to keep me in check. Most GPs don’t get alternative healers. I find that my team sees the stuff doctors don’t find until you really have a problem.

I have been collecting art over 30 years, and for almost 20 years have supported the Victorian College of the Arts and Victoria University with scholarships, travel grants and awards for the students.

VU generously awarded me an honorary doctorate in recognition of this. Our family’s works are a mixture from emerging artists from VCA and VU, as well as locally and internationally recognised artists, sculptors and ceramicists. These include Polly Bolland, John Young, Peter Demetrius, Frog King, Robert Hunter, Philip Hunter, Chiharu Shiota, Yayoi Kusama, and Dale Frank to name a few. I also try and visit Hong Kong Art Basel annually.

We host a Dom Pérignon event each year, and I think this will be our fifth year.

It all happened many years ago when the wonderful Deeta Colvin approached me. I love designing and visual merchandising and find large events like this so much fun to create. Each year I think up a theme, and we might feature anything from race horses at the party to models weaving through the crowds in our latest collection. I invite family and friends, business associates, people from the fashion industry, artists, politicians - the lot. It makes for an eclectic party and each person invited is a loyal Dom Pérignon drinker.

Time not always being my best friend means inevitable last minute decisions – me running around right up until it starts is not unusual. Don’t laugh, but because the table arrangements are important to me I usually have the tables set days before so I can add and subtract until I feel happy. It’s a bit like sculpting my pots, you just don’t quite know what you’re going to get until it’s finished. Though mistakes are usually my best works.

Our house really comes to life when it is filled with plants and flowers.

I like to bring inside whatever is in season. Although my life mantra is “less is more”, when it comes to floral arrangements and interiors in general I believe bountiful and generous is the way to go. For instance, I use masses of lilies (up to ten bunches) in one glass vessel. Whatever I use, I use in bulk. Whether it be burnt oak leaves or fruit, I stick to one variety and have multiples, which I find harmonious and peaceful. It’s less complicated and definitely no fuss.

They say “build a house, make a home”, and in my experience it takes years to truly make a home.

There are transitional periods in life (and in the state of your home) such as when or if you decide to have a family. As my family knows, a favourite line of mine is, “it’s a journey not a destination” - so even though now it’s just my husband and I here, I’m still making a home and I’m definitely still making a life. I want to bring on the next chapter with vigour and strength, and most of all, with love.”

Story by Zoe Briggs. Photography by Neiyo.

#Fiona Myer #white story

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