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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

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Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 8

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language? Warnings: None? I think? Please let me know if I missed something Notes: Bit of fluff with some anxiety/update on primary conflict. Next chapter will be a cute date with Dani, the one after that will be maximum h*rny, and then what will likely be the finale. Music for this chapter here. PS this one is a bit on the shorter side, but I hope y'all still enjoy it. Past Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2: Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco, Pt. 6: Elegy, Pt. 7: Harmony

Chapter 8: Obbligato

(Obbligato: An instrumental part which is essential in a piece of music)

“Okay, okay, serious this time, please? I’ll give you a kiss if you try hard enough,” you promised, grinning up at Daniela as you did. A week had passed since your talk in the library, with the two of you spending most days together, and you were progressing nicely with the musical lessons. Still, your girlfriend (you would never get tired of saying that word) was prone to getting a tad ‘distracted’. By you, usually. Not that it was intentional by any means. There was only so much you could do to keep her focused when the two of you were this close together.

“I could just kiss you anyway,” Daniela teased, leaning in with familiar intent. Right before your lips touch, however, she pulls back and smirks. “But if you insist, I can handle the challenge.” Then she’s turning back towards the piano, carefully finding the starting position. Even with her prior experience, you were impressed with how much she had already learned, and couldn’t help but be immensely proud of her. If anyone could meet Lady Dimitrescu’s expectations within a three month timeframe, it was the two of you. Except, of course, you still had to double-check just what her expectations were.

In the meantime, you were excited to hear your girlfriend play through the sheet music you had written up. Most of what you were working with had come from the family’s storage room, but you had also found some blank sheets, and figured it couldn’t hurt to create songs of your own. This particular one was relatively simple. It had been based on a song from a game you had played years ago, and only posed a moderate challenge due to its interesting rhythm. Daniela had seemed to enjoy playing it, with you even hearing her practice the song outside of your lessons, but had so far today refused to play it seriously.

Finally that was going to change. Once she found the starting notes, she nodded to herself, then started playing. For the first time today her expression is stern, focused. Seeing her like this was nice. She was always cute, you just thought that she was extra cute like this. But you tried not to let yourself get too distracted, knowing that you couldn’t give her feedback if you didn’t pay attention. In your head you “play along”, fingers miming the movements, knowing that it would help you catch any possible mistakes. Throughout the piece there are only a couple that you catch, none of them being severe enough to ruin the experience. Finishing with a little flourish, Daniela returns her gaze to you, grinning expectantly.

“Well? I seem to recall you promising me a reward,” she said, perking a brow. Laughing a little, you roll your eyes, before moving in to give her exactly what she wanted. Both of you are smiling into the kiss, enjoying every moment of it. Soon enough Daniela is running a hand through your hair, and pressing against you more, tilting her head just enough to deepen the kiss. You’re blushing hard now, thoughts going everywhere other than music. It’s not until you pull back for air that you remember what you’re supposed to be doing right now.

“As wonderful as this is… we still have a few more songs to go over,” you murmured, despite how much you wanted to keep kissing Daniela. By the way she groaned in frustration, you figured she felt the same way, more or less. “Hey, don’t fret too much. Think of this as an opportunity to earn a few more rewards,” you teased, gently patting her on the shoulder. For a moment she simply pouts, but eventually she sighs and gets ready to play another song…

------------------------------------

Rushing up the steps, practically two at a time, you desperately hoped that you wouldn’t be late. This was your third “update meeting” with Lady Dimitrescu, which by itself was enough to make you a nervous wreck. Add in the fact that this was the first time you’d be meeting alone? And in her personal study, no less? Well, it was safe to say that you were terrified. You hadn’t even been told why things were different this time. No, you were about as clueless as could be, given the circumstances.

By the time you make it your Lady’s study, you cannot tell whether your heart is racing due to stress or physical exertion. Regardless, you make it there in short time, arriving precisely at the scheduled hour. After taking a moment to settle your nerves, you briefly knock on the chamber door. There’s the sound of movement from inside before the way opens. Lady Dimitrescu has to bend a little to see out, but quickly smiles when she meets your gaze. Which was rather unexpected. The last time you had met with her she had been distanced, although still polite. Then again, Daniela had also been with you, and the focus was, as always, on her.

“Lady Dimitrescu,” you greeted, giving a short bow per customs. Then you were being waved in, brought over to a small sitting area, where you waited for permission to sit down. Once it was given, you relaxed a little. Maybe I don’t have as much reason to be nervous as I thought, you muse.

“Please, make yourself comfortable. There are no reasons for you to be unsettled, as far as I am aware,” Lady Dimitrescu said, smile disappearing for a moment at the end. But it’s back as quickly as it had vanished. Did she suspect something? Perhaps she had seen the way Daniela looked at you, or even overheard the whisperings of your roommates. Both thoughts do little other than renew your anxiety. Noticing this, Alcina frowns and shakes her head. “I was merely joking. Now, let us get to the reason for our meeting: How are Daniela’s lessons fairing? There is only so much I can glean from listening.” Glad to have something to think about other than your secret relationship with your boss’ daughter, you nodded and began explaining.

“Lady Daniela is making outstanding progress, in my opinion. Even with her occasional… lapses in attention, once she puts her mind to something, she’s quick to master it. At this point she can sight read nearly as fast and accurately as myself. However, we’re still going over vocabulary, as well as keys and their corresponding chords,” you answered, barely able to maintain eye contact with your employer. Thankfully, she seems to have accepted the inevitability of your nervousness. You were especially thankful now that you prepared to ask her a question. “My Lady, may I inquire about what specifically you expect from my teachings? If there are certain genres you wish for Daniela to be familiar with, or techniques-... I must admit I am unsure as to how to best meet your requirements.”

Slowly reclining in her chair, Alcina appears to ponder your question. In the meantime she sips at her beverage, holding the cup as if it were a fragile heirloom (which it could very well be), eyes looking into the middle distance. Then she gives a soft hum, setting her cup down and returning her attention to you.

“I suppose I can understand your concern. In some ways you have already exceeded my expectations,” she said, expression oddly plain in comparison to her positive phrasing. “My daughter has rarely invested herself in anything as much as she has in your lessons. For this, I am left wondering what she finds so captivating- the music, or the one who pulls the strings?... But that is not the answer to your inquiry, is it?” In that moment, you are incredibly still, willing yourself to keep a straight face, despite the racing of your heart. At your silence, Alcina perks a brow, expecting you to respond. You can’t, your mouth suddenly dry. “What I expect is a passion to educate, a drive to see my daughter flourish. I expect you to teach her exactly as much as she wants you to, focusing on whatever brings her the most joy. But I expect professionalism. Your duties come first, above your health, happiness, and all other desires. Am I understood?”

“Yes, my Lady. Of course, my Lady,” you replied, stuttering, eyes wide. Did she know? Or merely suspect?... There’s another thought, one you try desperately not to voice, only to hear the words fill the room before you can stop yourself. “May I ask where Lady Daniela’s desires fit into this?” Silence hangs heavy over the room for several seconds. Your employer has narrowed her eyes, lips curled downwards into a sharp scowl, watching you with thinly-veiled anger. All you can do is gulp and wait for her response. When it comes, you are surprised by the stability of her tone. It was almost as if she respected your gall.

“She is young still, with the mind of a lovesick maiden. Daniela does not know what she wants, not really, nor does she understand what she needs. If her… flirtatious nature begins to interrupt your instruction, then your response must be swift, and uninterested. Regardless of how unkindly she takes your rejection, I will ensure that she does not harm you,” Lady Dimitrescu said, giving a stern nod at the end. Though her tone was reassuring, you hardly felt better, considering you were far past the point of turning Daniela down (if anything, you had only turned her on). “Now, with that settled, I believe I should let you return to your duties. Oh, and do tell Cynthia that the tea she brewed was perfect, should you happen to see her.”

Then she looked away, practically ignoring your continued existence. So you rose to your feet, gave another bow, and left before your panic could devolve into a breakdown. Daniela is not going to be happy about this.

#daniela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu x reader #resident evil: village #re8 village #serenade #my brain got stuck on this for some reason #sorry it took so long #very excited for the date chapter tho!#gonna be hecking cute

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petrichoravellichor · 3 years

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Title: A New Kind of Life

Wordcount: ~10k

Rating: T

Summary: What if, when Sam and Dean break into the Empty, Cas isn’t the only one they save? A post-15x19 fix-it fic in which Crowley gets a second shot at the redemption (and family) he deserves.

(Read on Ao3)

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Chapter 1 (of 5) (Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Chs. 4 & 5)

“Crowley! Wake up, you son of a bitch, wake up!”

Crowley opens his eyes to Dean shaking him hard by the shoulders. Which is strange: the last thing Crowley remembers, he was dying, alone and forgotten in a parallel universe.

He isn’t there anymore. Instead, Dean is kneeling over him in a dome of golden light beyond which everything is dark, and for a brief, absurd moment he’ll chastise himself for later, Crowley thinks he’s somehow ended up in Heaven.

Then he glances past Dean and sees Sam with an exhausted-looking Castiel slumped against him; next to them is a younger man Crowley doesn’t recognize, but his eyes are molten gold, the same color as the dome surrounding them all. The amount of raw power emanating from the golden-eyed man makes every one of Crowley’s hairs stand on end, and not in a good way.

No, definitely not his idea of Heaven.

Crowley snaps his gaze back to Dean. “What—” he begins, but Dean cuts him off, hauling him to his feet.

“No time for questions!” Dean yells, and it’s only then that Crowley registers the roar coming from beyond the dome: it’s as though they’re standing in the eye of a hurricane as all around them things blow apart. “Come on, we gotta go!”

And then they’re all running, the dome of light moving with them like a shield as wispy black wraiths crash and burn against its perimeter and somewhere unseen, a hideous voice howls in rage.

*****

Once they’re safely back in the Bunker war room, Dean takes hold of Castiel and, along with the golden-eyed man—whose irises have faded to a soft, concerned blue—ushers him off in the direction of the infirmary, promising gruffly as he goes that he and Crowley will talk later.

Patience, however, is a virtue, and Crowley isn’t feeling particularly virtuous—especially not after seeing how tenderly Dean and Castiel looked at each other as Dean wrapped an arm around the angel’s waist and led him from the room. The sight had left a bitter taste in Crowley’s mouth, one he does his best to ignore. There will be time for that later; right now, he needs answers, and he’s not waiting on Dean in order to get them.

He crosses his arms and fixes Sam with an expectant glare. “All right, Moose,” he says, "out with it: what in God’s name is going on?”

Sam snorts, looking tired. “Um, yeah, about that...” He gestures towards the map table, then heads over to the liquor cabinet. “You...might wanna sit down.”

Crowley arches a brow, but he does as Sam suggests. Sam joins him a moment later and, after pouring them each a drink, spends the better part of the next hour telling Crowley all that’s transpired in the three years—three years—Crowley’s been dead.

Which is, it turns out, rather a lot.

Lucifer’s spawn survived his birth and is none other than the golden-eyed man Crowley saw when he woke up; his name is Jack, and for all intents and purposes, he considers Castiel to be his father.

An alternate version of Michael got a hold of Dean for a while, until Jack killed Michael at the cost of his soul, then, in a soulless rage, killed Mary.

God killed Jack. All Hell broke loose. Rowena, who’d apparently survived Lucifer’s last attempt to kill her, died to fix it and was now Queen of Hell.

Billie brought Jack back to kill God. Dean tried to kill Billie, so Billie tried to kill him. Castiel managed to take Billie out by admitting his love for Dean, at which point the Empty took Castiel—

Of course, thinks Crowley, the bitter taste in his mouth returning with a vengeance. Of. Bloody. Course...

The brothers had stormed the Empty not for him, but for Castiel. Good, noble, righteous Castiel, the wayward Angel of Thursday who’s been hopelessly in love with Dean for longer than Crowley has known him...and whom, it seems, Dean has finally admitted to loving back. Sam and Dean had saved Castiel because they loved him, because Dean loved him, but Crowley...They’d probably only rescued him because they’d figured they owed him for saving their denim-clad arses that day at the lake.

Now, as Crowley half-listens to Sam talk about defeating God, he glowers down at the map table and wishes they hadn’t bothered bringing him back at all, because it’s one thing to die unloved; it’s another to have to live that way. Crowley’s done both, and he knows which he prefers. At least in the Empty, he’d been at peace.

“Crowley? Hey, you okay?”

He looks up to see Sam regarding him from under a furrowed brow. Bollocks...

“Naturally,” Crowley says, leaning back in his chair with a dismissive smile. “That’s quite a tale, Moose. It sounds like you and Squirrel have outdone yourselves these past few years, even managed to pull one over on God; bravo. I’m sure Lucifer’s spawn will make a spectacular replacement: he is, after all, three.”

Sam’s eyes harden. “Jack’s nothing like Lucifer; he’s good, and he’s got us to help him, and Amara—”

“Oh, Amara! Now there’s a recipe for success if I’ve ever heard one: God’s evil sister and her Satanic great-nephew with billions of raw souls at their disposal. How could that possibly go wrong?” Crowley scoffs, shaking his head. “Honestly, there’s just no learning with you lot, is there? You just keep humming the same damn tune, then acting surprised when the notes turn sour, and it never even occurs to you to pick. A new. Bloody. Song.”

The frown on Sam’s face intensifies. “This is different. Jack, Amara, they’re on our side, and now that Rowena’s in charge of Hell—”

Crowley snorts. “Right. Care to wager on how long that lasts?” Then, at the look of sudden wariness on Sam’s face, he rolls his eyes. “Calm down, Moose; that wasn’t me plotting a coup. I have no plans to try and take back the crown.”

“You don’t?”

“Why on earth would I?” Crowley takes a sip of brandy, grimacing slightly at the flavor—for all the changes the past few years have wrought, the Winchesters’ abominable taste in liquor remains tragically consistent. “Perhaps you’ve forgotten, but I hated Hell as much as the blasted place hated me. If Mother thinks she can do better, she can have it.”

They sit without speaking for a moment; then Sam clears his throat. “You know,” he says quietly, “Rowena regrets how things ended between the two of you.”

Crowley stiffens, a stab of anger piercing his gut. “No, she doesn’t.”

“She does,” Sam insists, and how anyone can look so stupidly earnest is beyond Crowley’s ability to comprehend. “She told us so.”

Crowley scoffs. “And you believed her?” he demands, left hand closing into a fist at his side. “You know, for the longest time, I thought you were the smart one.”

Sam sighs. “Crowley...Look, I’m not saying Rowena’s perfect—”

“She’s quite literally the Queen of Hell, Moose.” Crowley manages to keep his voice level, but his fingernails are digging into his palm. “I’d say that’s about as far from perfect as anyone can get.”

“—but I think you two should talk.”

Crowley’s hand starts to bleed.

“I mean it,” continues Sam, when Crowley says nothing. “When I was a kid, my dad...he wasn’t there the way he should’ve been, and we fought a lot, and there were times I felt like I hated him, but when he died...”

A multitude of emotions flicker across Sam’s face in rapid succession, too fast for Crowley to name them all, but the final one, the one Sam looks back at him with, is regret. “When he died,” Sam continues, “I didn’t care about any of that. And maybe I should have. I know I should have. Believe me, I tried. But I just...kept coming back to the fact that what I was feeling, the good and the bad, I’d never get to actually say it to him, and if he was somehow sorry for the bad, that was something I’d never get to hear.”

Crowley’s anger flares white hot; his hidden palm is slick with blood. “If you have a point,” he growls, “I’d encourage you to come out with it.”

“My point,” says Sam, curtly, “is that you actually have a chance at some closure, and I think you should take it. For your own sake.”

Crowley clenches his jaw, looks away. “For my own sake,” he echoes, softly. As if his and Sam’s pain is the same. As if Rowena is capable of causing anything but. “Tell me, Moose: since when do you or your imbecile of a brother actually give a damn about my own sake?”

He raises his gaze to stare coldly at Sam who, for the first time since they sat down, seems at a genuine loss for words. Crowley snaps his glass down on the table and stands. “Thought as much.”

He shoves his hands in his coat pockets and turns to go—where, exactly, he has no idea—only to nearly crash headlong into Dean, and suddenly, Crowley’s anger turns to outright fury, because at the end of the day, it didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter that Crowley had gone up against Hell and his mother and even his own better judgment for Dean more times than he could count.

It didn’t matter that the two of them had shared a bed when Dean was a demon, doing extraordinary things to triplets that Crowley would have kicked out in a heartbeat if he’d thought he could get away with it.

It didn’t matter that Crowley had sacrificed his life to save Dean and Sam and the whole bloody world.

None of it mattered, because for all the times Crowley had chosen Dean, Dean had never once chosen him. Then again, Crowley thinks, maybe it’s his own fault for expecting any different, his due comeuppance for stupidly believing he deserved to be loved. It doesn’t matter; he knows better now.

“Hello, Dean,” he snarls. “Come to look in on me now that you’ve seen to your angel? Well you needn’t have bothered; I was just leaving.”

Dean frowns, crossing his arms. “The hell do you mean, you’re leaving?”

“I mean get out of my way.”

“No.”

“And why not?” Crowley demands, voice rising. “Am I your prisoner? I’ve already told your oaf of a brother that I’ve no interest in causing any sort of trouble in Hell, so if that’s what this is about, then you can just—”

“Damn it, Crowley,” snaps Dean, “no, that’s not what this is about; it’s about where are you even gonna go. You got a place somewhere we don’t know about?”

“I’ll find one.”

“Or,” Dean counters, “you could cut the crap and just stay here.”

That catches Crowley off guard, but only for a moment; he gives Dean a hard look, determined not to let the surprise show on his face. “And why on earth would I want to do that?”

“Because you know it’s the smart thing to do,” says Dean, face impassive, “and last I checked, you were an asshole, not an idiot.”

And it’s not that Crowley doesn't know full well that running off half-cocked into a world whose dynamics have fundamentally changed is naive at best and suicidal at worst—that isn’t what makes him nearly scream in rage, because he knows it’s patently true. No, the infuriating thing, the truly mortifying thing, is that Dean knows him well enough to know that he knows it, and that if Crowley does leave, he’s only going to prove Dean right.

The thought is more than Crowley can bear; still, if he doesn’t get out of this room right now, he’s going to start shouting—at Dean, at himself, at everything. There are other, less crowded places in this godforsaken Bunker, and it’s past time he went and found one. He’s not going to give Dean the satisfaction of watching him break.

Crowley pulls his fury tight and close, stepping forward into Dean’s space and glaring up at him with every bit of defiance he can muster. “Funny,” he sneers, “because last I checked, you were both.”

And he vanishes before Dean can respond.

*****

Crowley finds an unoccupied room at the far end of the hall and decides to claim it as his own for the time being. He bolts the door and turns to collapse onto the bed...only to freeze dead in his tracks.

His mother is standing in the corner. As Crowley gapes, Rowena takes a step forward, face pale and incredulous. “Fergus?” she whispers. “Gods, is it really you?”

Her voice snaps Crowley out of his shock, and he narrows his eyes. “Mother,” he growls, the word like poison in his mouth. “What do you want?”

“Sam told me they were going to try and get you back,” Rowena says softly, eyes roving over Crowley’s face as though seeing him for the first time, “and I wanted...I needed to see if they’d done it, if you were all right.”

Crowley glares, making a mental note to have a word with Sam about this particular indiscretion. “Well, you’ve seen me. Now get out.”

Rowena recoils, and if Crowley didn’t know any better, he’d swear his words actually hurt her. “You’re angry,” she says. “You’re angry, and you’ve every right to be, but if you’d just let me explain—”

“Explain what?” Crowley snaps. He clenches both hands into fists, ignoring the burn in his left palm. “What could you possibly have to say to me that I’d want to hear? You hate me, remember?”

“I love you—”

Crowley barks out a laugh. “Really? Have you forgotten the last time we saw each other? You left on a bus after you sent my son to his death, all because you wanted to watch me ‘suffer the loss of a child’, of my child!” He stumbles towards her, half-blind with rage. “Tell me, Mother: did losing me bring you any suffering, or were you just sad you weren’t there to collect three pigs in exchange?”

Rowena looks as though she’s been slapped. “Of course I suffered! Do you have any idea what I went through trying to get you back? I faced Death herself; I begged her to return you to me, but she wouldn’t do it! Ask Sam, ask Dean!”

“They’ve already told me,” Crowley grinds out. “It doesn’t matter.”

“How can you say that?” Rowena is crying now, tears rolling freely down her face. “Of course it matters! I did it because I missed you, because I love you!”

“You’ve never loved me a day in your life.”

“That isn’t true! I did love you; I do!” Rowena takes another step forward and reaches out a hand. “If you could just find it in your heart to forgive me—”

“Forgive you?” Crowley snarls, and it’s all he can do not to spit in her face. “You don’t get to ask for my forgiveness, not after any one thing you’ve put me through, not after everything! What was it you said to me that day at the bus station, your parting words? ‘Who better than me to crush your shriveled heart’? At least I had a heart, once; you never did.”

“Fergus—”

And Crowley explodes. “GET OUT!” he screams, seizing the lamp off the bedside table and hurling it at his mother with all his might...only to watch as it flies right through her and crashes into the wall.

And then Rowena’s gone, just like she always is, and Crowley’s alone, just like he always is. He stands in the middle of the room and stares hollowly into empty space. “Astral projection,” he says, quietly; it always had been one of his mother’s favorite tricks. “Of course.”

He spends the rest of the night warding the room as many ways as he knows how, determined not to let his mother or anyone else get the drop on him again.

#crowley #spn crowley #fergus macleod #crowley macleod #crowley fic #spn #supernatural #supernatural fix-it fic #spn fix-it fic #fanfiction #a new kind of life #my writing #here we gooooo!!!

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clumsyclifford · 3 years

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ok hello i absolutely love all ur fics, you’ve just got a certain quality in ur writing that is just… mmm. yeah so anyway, do you have any advice on how to improve or just how to write?? (especially fic cause personally i struggle with that more than original stuff??)

hello!! that is very kind of you to say thank you <3

advice on how to write. oh boy. oh man. well i can try. i will do my best. i will also try to be brief but we all know how that song goes

update from having finished answering this: alright. okay. this is not only long, but decidedly english teacher-y. i’m sorry that i am the way that i am. this is what you get for asking a leo for writing advice. am i joking? maybe. maybe not. anyway. this post got away from me in a big way so here’s a read more. warning: LONG post under the cut.

1. study your characters. for RPF like the band stuff i write, that literally means watching interviews, watching them perform, seeing how they interact with each other, picking up on their mannerisms (behavior) - what they do with their hands, if they repeat themselves or stutter when they talk, the quality of their voice when they're talking about different things, and so on. also keep track of things they mention a lot in interviews especially about each other - for example jack has mentioned before that alex has an annoying habit of twirling his hair when he zones out. that kind of thing. IMPORTANT NOTE!: you don’t have to use all of this information. just like studying for anything, you collect all the information you can and then you parse through it and use whatever you think will contribute or be relevant to your story.

2. remember that characters are people. or at least they’re representing people, which is an important distinction (see #3). still, considering that your characters are people can be a helpful way to get out of your head. see, characters are supposed to be archetypical, and fulfill a role, and say certain things in certain ways and never really deviate from that. but people are highly unpredictable and behave in random ways for random reasons and have thought processes that are unfathomable. people will just do fuckin’ whatever. if you’re worried that your characters aren’t behaving in a believable way, keep in mind that you’re trying to make your characters represent people, and people’s behavior is justifiable any number of ways. people just do shit.

3. remember that characters are not people. sike! no but seriously, this is just as important to remember. unfortunately, no matter how hard you try, characters are never going to be people. that’s a good thing for stories, though. characters can pick up on nuance in senses that people can’t - they can distinguish between different facial expressions, different smells, different sounds - BUT ONLY INSOFAR AS IT MOVES THE STORY ALONG. in other ways, characters are ridiculously oblivious. you can use this to your advantage. in fact, a lot of the time, you have to. if your character notices right away that someone is flirting with him, then you can’t write a 30k slow burn, for example. characters don’t do that thing humans do where they go “what?” but then halfway through the re-explanation they register what’s been said. pretty much everything characters say has meaning. (by this i don’t mean semantic meaning, i mean significance - characters don’t really just say “what?” because they didn’t hear what someone said, they say “what?” because they can’t believe it or they don’t understand it or they refuse to understand it. characters never seem to run into the didn’t-hear-them problem. must be nice.)

characters can do whatever you want or need them to do, because you’re in charge of them. (sometimes this doesn’t feel true - mine do all kinds of shit and i just have go “well alright then” - but it is true.) they are gears in a story. you decide when and how they turn.

4. dialogue is your friend. i am super super biased here, because i looove writing dialogue. if you talk to sam about this i’m sure she would say that description and narration are the ways to go. but you came to me, so i get to say that dialogue is god. i don’t want to say that dialogue is the only method of communication (i know nonverbal communication is real), but dialogue is the fastest and most effective method of communication, and by extension, the most effective way to advance relationships between characters. now. obviously there are exceptions. if characters are kissing, they’re probably not doing a lot of talking. if they’re trying to be undercover or discreet, they’re more likely to rely on gestures and facial expressions than speaking. if you’re writing a very peaceful scene, you might not want to undercut it by adding a lot of chit-chat. but i maintain that dialogue is the best way to move a story along, for a few reasons.

first, at least for me, too much description is just tiring. depending on how skillful the writer is (sam), i can read a fair amount before i hit my limit, but unlike in mean girls, the limit DOES exist. you don’t want to over-describe the world (see #5). second, i find that dialogue is a really really good indicator of a person’s character. this is especially true and relevant in fanfiction, which is a lot more character-driven than original fiction in many ways. also, in a sec i’m gonna talk about showing [not/and] telling, which is every english teacher’s bitch, but dialogue is a really good way of showing who a person is and also a good way to establish facts about the universe. you could just narrate and be like “Jack hated waking up early,” and that works and in many cases it’s perfectly legit. but you could also do something like this:

“What the fuck,” Jack mumbled, still half asleep. “You better have a really fucking good reason to be waking me up this early. Like someone better have fucking died.”

and sometimes that’s just a more fun way to say it. (for the record you can also show AND tell here! there’s no reason why you can’t have this line of dialogue and then a line in the narration confirming how very much jack is not a morning person!)

the last reason why i am particularly fond of dialogue is because i am also particularly fond of communication, which is a preference thing. let’s face it, guys: characters aren’t gonna communicate if they’re not literally actually talking to each other. dialogue means talking to each other. talking to each other means solving problems, fixing (or creating) conflicts, understanding each other better. i love communication, ergo, i love dialogue. And You Should Too.

5. describe the world, but don’t over-describe. i opened this fic earlier and it was like “jack was excited to wake up to go to his first class at the university of baltimore” and i just. i was like is this really relevant. do i really need to know this. and i never found out because i closed the fic but in my defense it was on wattpad and i had only opened it out of curiosity. look. there are three ways to use details in fic. (a) introduce them right away (b) introduce them when they become relevant or (c) don’t introduce them at all. let me give you some examples.

(a) say your character A (i’m using jack because i’m used to him) wakes up. he’s in his room in his house off-campus. character B (rian) walks into the room. this might be a good time to explain that rian is his housemate. to that point: “show not tell” is a good rule, but sometimes “show and tell” is just as good. e.g.:

Rian walks in, holding Jack’s Green Day shirt and looking irritated. That’s really nothing new; Rian looks irritated at Jack roughly once a day. Being housemates for a year will do that to a friendship.

boom, now you’ve let everyone know they live together without throwing it in their face, and you’ve also told everyone that these two guys are friends and have been friends for at least a year but probably longer. you showed it by having rian walking in holding jack’s shirt - usual housemate behavior - but you also told it in a subtle way that established the relationship and some kind of history between these two. well done.

(b) sometimes you want a certain detail to make an impact. this is the kind of thing you hold onto and don’t specify, and in certain cases you leave the reader wondering, “well what about x?” and then when you finally explain x they go ohhhhhhhhhh. yknow. the italicized oh. consider the following:

(A)

“Alex is in my bio class,” Rian says, referring to Jack’s ex-boyfriend of last year.

Jack frowns. “So? Why should I care?”

“He’s my lab partner,” Rian says. “I have to spend a lot of time with him.”

“I don’t care what you and Alex do,” Jack says. “But you should know he sucks at bio.”

Rian gives Jack a look. “First of all, that’s not true, he’s incredibly smart. And second, I’m telling you as a courtesy, because I thought you might not want your ex-boyfriend hanging around our house after he broke your fucking heart.”

(B)

“Alex is in my bio class,” Rian says.

Jack frowns. “So? Why should I care?”

“He’s my lab partner,” Rian says. “I have to spend a lot of time with him.”

“I don’t care what you and Alex do,” Jack says. “But you should know he sucks at bio.”

the only difference between these two excerpts (which i just wrote lol they’re not from anything real) is that the second one doesn’t explain who alex is right away. that makes it way more interesting when rian reveals who alex is a few lines later. magic.

(c) take this college au that we’ve established here. where does it take place, you ask? easy answer: it doesn’t matter. you don’t need to say what school they’re at. this will make your job easier, because then no one can fact check you, and it also means you don’t have to decide what school they’re at. but even if you do decide, it’s not usually necessary to say. believe me, you can go thousands of words without ever needing to specify what school they’re at. you know why? because it doesn’t matter. and no one cares. and as soon as you specify in canon that they’re at a particular school, you are bound to be accurate to everything that school does, and that makes your job way more difficult than it needs to be. as hazel once said, work smarter, not harder.

6. adverbs are also your friend. (yknow, words that describe verbs, typically ending in -ly, like “loudly” or “angrily” or “smoothly”.) ESPECIALLY when it comes to dialogue tags. (dialogue tags are the things you add to dialogue to say who’s talking and how they’re talking - like “he said” or “he whispered” or “he earnestly explained” or whatever). a lot of the writing advice you’ll see nowadays will usually guide you away from overusing dialogue tags other than the classic “says/said” and i STRONGLY concur with that advice. things like yelled, cried, mumbled, snapped - these are very good in moderation, when you’re really trying to emphasize the way a person is speaking. the more you use them, the less impact they have. in most cases, a simple “he said [adverb]” will do. instead of “he snapped” consider “he said curtly/sharply/coldly.” instead of “he mumbled” consider “he said quietly/clumsily/softly.” I WANT TO MAKE IT CLEAR THAT THESE ARE NOT DIRECT SYNONYMS. every word has a nuanced and slightly different meaning and that is the BEAUTY of the english language!!!! all i’m saying is that in many cases, a verb can be replaced with an adverb to achieve roughly the same effect, without making the reader feel like they’re scanning a thesaurus.

and speaking of a thesaurus: it’s not cheating to use outside resources like thesaurus.com to help you come up with words. i fuckin love thesaurus.com. i use that shit all the time for everything. i use it when i’m writing emails. i used it just now to write that last paragraph. thesaurus.com is your BEST friend.

7. grammar. (and spelling but that’s really a given.) unfortunately if i tried to teach you all of the essential rules of grammar this post would exceed tumblr’s previously-nonexistent word count limit. so i’m not gonna teach you any of them. this is just a general point to suggest that if/when you’re writing, have someone you trust, with a good grasp of grammar, look over it. of course it doesn’t have to be perfect or AP style or anything like that. readers will overlook a certain amount of grammar mistakes and every reader has a different threshold. but in general, as a grammar geek and former journalism editor-in-chief, i have a duty to my grammurai code to preach the importance of grammar in writing. good grammar does not necessarily mean good writing and vice versa, bad grammar does not necessarily mean bad writing, but bad grammar makes good writing a lot harder to read, and in some cases will even obscure your actual meaning. so please, have someone read it. for the record this is me offering up my services. i am very good at fixing grammar. i have lots of weaknesses in writing but grammar is one of my strengths. please prioritize grammar. thank you for coming to my ted talk.

***

okay so now that i’ve said all of this shit and pretended to be an expert and embodied everyone’s tenth grade english teacher, let me add one very important disclaimer:

none of this is always relevant.* writing is an art, not a science. you are never going to be following all of the rules, all of the time. you shouldn’t. it’s good to know the basics of constructing a plot, establishing a character, showing and/not telling, moving the story along. but a lot of this advice is really subjective and heavily influenced by my writing experience and habits and tendencies and preferences, and those are simply not generalizable to the world. i am a sample size of one and science dictates that that means my results cannot be statistically significant. i am just some guy. earlier i said you don’t want to over-describe the world. but maybe you do! maybe you’re really into worldbuilding and you want people to know what they’re getting into. maybe you’re like sam, and you just don’t feel as confident in your dialogue skills but you love painting word pictures. i said that adverbs are your friend, but maybe you just prefer to use verbs. maybe you don’t want ANY dialogue tags and you want the reader to interpret the dialogue based on context and content. i said that characters aren’t people and they won’t behave like people, but maybe you’re trying to write hyper-realistic characters. maybe you’re just going for believability over narrative. WHATEVER. the point is, rules are made to be broken. no one is going to have The Answer for How To Write Good because there isn’t just one answer. every single writing rule has exceptions and you can be that exception as many times as you want.

*except grammar. grammar is fucking always relevant.

i hope any of this advice was helpful to you, even though i english teacher-ed the fuck out of it. and for what it’s worth, i approached this as if you were a relatively novice writer, but i know absolutely jack shit about your writing prowess and experience and habits. so maybe you already know all of this and none of what i’ve said is helpful at all. if you have a more specific problem, i would be happy to try and help. if you’re hoping for more specific feedback, i’d have to read something of yours first - but again, happy to try and help. i don’t know if you can tell but i loooove writing and english and grammar and all of this shit and it would be my honor. i have now spoken so long that james madison himself is begging me to shut up so i’ll stop here but thank you for coming by and giving me the opportunity to expatiate a shit ton. and GOOD LUCK i forgot the most important advice of writing which is HAVE FUN LOVE WHAT YOU WRITE AND WRITE WHAT YOU LOVE OKAY BYE

#yowza #mamma mia #hachi machi #someone get this bitch a muzzle #i feel like i keep saying i sound like an english teacher here but i never specify that im not actually an english teacher #god i wish my blog brand was just 'the person you come to with writing questions'#is it too late to establish myself as that #ask #writing advice #stuff #im giving it the stuff tag. i said enough that i feel like it's earned the stuff tag.#anonymous #if i keep looking at this im just going to keep adding things because adhd-coded brain wants ME to overdescribe. hypocrite #so im just gonna hit post n run #good luck

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13uswntimagines · 4 years

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Uh Oh Spaghettios (Uswnt x Swift!Reader)

Request- Y/n Get's hurt in a game, Taylor Comes to the hospital to take care of her and the fans find out about Y/n.

Hey dudes, this is part 2 of a one shot series I have labeled A Swift Life that will follow the characters in this universe. I’ll list the other parts down below. I still haven’t decided if it’s going to be a purely Emily/reader endgame or a Soran/Reader endgame. If you have any requests or suggestions, please feel free to hit me up. I hope that you enjoy!

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

The smile that etched its way across your face when the ball found the back of the net for the 4th time was blinding. You sent the Australian bench a wink as you copied their own star forward’s signature backflip, being engulfed by your teammate the moment your feet were back on the pitch. The ref blew the whistle signaling that the first half was over, and you laughed as your team ruffled your hair during your walk back to the locker room. You were proving to be a problem like no other for the Australian team, and the dangerous looks crossing the defender's faces showed that they may not have the answer for how to shut you down.

Emily’s arm wrapped around you as you neared the tunnel, your cheeks flushed as she leaned in and placed a light kiss on your cheek.

“4 goals in 20 minutes, you would think the defenders went on break.” She joked, pulling you tighter to you. Your smile got impossibly wider.

“Well, not everyone can be as good as stopping me as you are.” You laughed, ducking your head as she kissed your cheek. You had really opened up to the team since you had finally told them about your family. You had become touchier with everyone, especially a blond-haired defender. You weren’t always good at voicing your thoughts, but the team was finding that you were much better at expressing yourself through body language and touch. Plus it helped that you were a secrete cuddle bug.

“Yeah kid, what’s gotten into you today? You’re like on fire,” Lindsey asked as she wrapped her arm around you from the other side.

“Taylor said that she was going to watch the game.” You shrugged, causing both women to laugh.

“She’s here?” Emily asked trying to untangle herself from you., her eyes frantically searching the stands for your older sister.

“She’s in New York, but she cleared her schedule enough to catch the game.” You said quietly, grabbing Emily’s arm and pulling it back around you. You understood that Taylor was busy, and it made you feel warm inside that she always did her best to watch your games. She had almost flown out to watch this game live, but you had insisted that she didn’t need to. It wasn’t like the game mattered in the long run, and you didn’t feel right pulling her from her own responsibilities when the stakes weren’t that high.

“She’s still worried about the fans?” Lindsey asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Hm, something like that. I think she just wants them to know me for my footie skills and for her name.” You mumbled. It wasn’t that you guys were hiding from the fans. You just hadn’t explicitly admitted that you were related. You were barely on social media as it was, so your public interactions were limited. Taylor was also trying to protect you. She knew that you were shy, and when the fans finally put two and two together, they would be more all over you than they already were.

“I’m surprised that they haven’t connected all the dots yet.” Lindsey snorted. If any fandom on the planet was going to figure it out, it was them.

“Yeah, they’re like the world's greatest detectives” Emily smirked, and you rolled your eyes. Sure they were good, but considering that half of the fandom was still ignoring the fact that the subject of her songs wasn’t brit boy, you weren’t really worried about them realizing that you were a major part of her narrative too.

“They’re not Batman,” You grumbled, mumbling a thank you to Alex when she held the locker room door open for the three of you. She nodded your way, a smirk set on her lips.

“No, you’re superman, flying around and scoring goals,” She said as you passed her, and you frowned.

“Does that make Emily her Lois Lane?” Alex asked, causing the entire room to burst into laughter, and your cheeks flushed.

“In her dream” Emily snorted, untangling herself from you and pushing you away lightly. You averted your eyes from Lindsey’s I’m sorry eyes and stared pointily at the floor. You missed the glares your teammates were sending towards the blond defender. It wasn’t a secret to them that you had a thing for Saucy Sonny. They had bets going for who was going to make the first move and how long it was going to take for the two you to stop being oblivious.

“That’s enough ladies, we need to go over some things before the next half,” Jill interjected, before beginning to talk strategy. You knew that she was way out of your league, but hearing and seeing her disgust with the very idea of giving you a chance still hurt. You spent your halftime half-way listening to Jill drone on and on about positions and getting behind the defenders, while the other half of you was trying not to stare at Emily who was pointedly not looking your way.

Your thoughts were spiraling by the time you made it back onto the field, the playful atmosphere that you had stepped off the pitch with completely gone. You were distracted by the swirling idea that Emily would never want you in the way you so clearly wanted her. That you had been so stupid to even hope that she would give you the chance to prove that you could be a worthy partner.

From the time you were little, you had been told that it only takes a second of distraction for everything to go wrong. But here you were, waiting for Christen to take a corner kick, watching the way Emily was bouncing on her toes, rather than paying attention to the defender who was marking you. You didn’t see the ball flying in your direction, or the opposing defender that was leaping into the air to meet it. One moment you were looking at Emily and the next all you saw was black.

----------------------------------

Alex had had a perfect view of the collision from the bench. She saw your eyes following a certain blond defender and not the ball. She had seen the opposing defender leap into the air, her leg catching you in the side of the head. She had watched you fall to the floor, and Kelley rushing to your side. Emily had flipped her lid the moment she saw your unmoving form on the turf, screaming at the defender who had hurt you and earning herself a yellow card.

Alex was at your side the second the trainers had carried your unconscious body off the field and loaded you into the ambulance. She had held your hand all the way into the hospital, only letting go when the doctors wouldn’t let her into the back with you because while she was your team mom, you didn’t share any blood relations. She had been regulated to the waiting room, where the team had joined her after their victory over Australia.

“Does anyone know why there are about a million camera’s out in front of the hospital?”

“I think that would be our fault,” Taylor said, rushing into the waiting room, her blond girlfriend skidding to a halt not far behind her. Alex felt her shoulders relax at Taylor’s voice.

“Thank fuck you’re here. They won’t tell us anything because we’re not “family”” She

“Not family my ass, you guys spend more time with her than anyone else” Taylor spat, finally taking in the exhausted faces of your teammates, her eyes lingering on Lindsey and Emily’s red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks. She wasn’t thrilled that you were going for someone (or multiple someones?), so much older than you, her protective instincts wanting her to make sure that you didn’t get taken advantage of. But on the other hand, they clearly cared for you deeply.

“That’s what I said, but it’s the policy or whatever” Kelley grumbled, pulling Taylor’s attention away from where Emily and Lindsey were curled together in the corner of the waiting room, both being comforted by Sam, Tobin, and Christen.

“Let’s go find the doctor babe,” Karlie said quietly, running a hand up Taylor’s back. Taylor sighed. There would be time to grill the two women who you may or may not be crushing on later. For now, your health was her first priority.

----------------------------------

The first thing you noticed was the incredibly annoying beeping coming from somewhere in the room. It was probably your roommate's alarm again. You couldn’t remember what time you had gone to bed last night, but all you wanted to do was sleep a little more and the annoying beep was preventing you from doing that. Why you had been paired to room with Becky for this camp, you didn’t understand. She was a total morning person while you loved to stay in bed all day.

“Turn it off.” You groaned, your eyelids fluttering. God the sun was bright this morning.

“No can-do kiddo,” The voice beside you chuckled, startling you. That wasn’t Becky’s voice or anyone from the team.

“Tay?” You asked groggily, attempting to turn your head to survey the room, but realizing that that was a terrible idea as a wave of nausea hit you. “Whoa”.

“Stay still babe,” Another voice said from beside Taylor, a hand resting on your chin to prevent you from wiggling around.

“Yeah, I’m here, so is Karlie,” Taylor whispered quietly, hovering over your face so you could see her. You winced, moving Karlie’s hand and trying to sit up on your own again. Alex (who was on your other side) and Taylor immediately jumped in to help you.

“What happened?” You asked, wincing as the pounding in your head increased for a moment as you settled back against the pillows.

“You scared the shit out of us” Kelley grumbled from beside Alex. A small smile etched its way across your face at the sight of the 4 women who were more like parents than siblings sitting by your side. The 4 women who always supported you, and only wanted you to be yourself.

“You got hit in the head really hard. Try not to move around too much. ok?” Taylor said, running a soothing hand through your hair. You pouted. If there was one thing that you hated more than anything else it was being forced to remain still.

“You probably have a concussion kiddo,” Alex added, grabbing your hand and running her thumb over the back of your knuckles.

“No not that. Did we win?” You asked anxiously. The last thing that you remembered was being ahead, and if the team had lost because you got hurt, you didn’t know what you would do. It would probably mean that your USWNT career was over.

“Of course that’s what you’re worried about,” Kelley sighed exasperatedly. You were going to have to learn that there were more important things in life than winning and losing. It was a little scary how much of your identity you based on your abilities on the pitch.

“Well did we?” You insisted, causing the women to chuckle again, Alex nodded and began to rub soothing circles on your shoulder again.

“I’ll find the game for you, just give me a second,” Karlie added, grabbing the remote control and beginning to flick through the channels to find the replay of the game.

“I’m going to go tell Em and Linds that you’re awake,” Kelley said after a few moments, rubbing your leg as she stood up and moved towards the door.

“They’re still here?” You asked, your eyes widening and your cheeks turning red.

“Trust me, kid, they’re not leaving until you do,” Kelley threw over her shoulder as she exited the room. The room was quiet for a few moments, the only sound being the soft murmur of the television. Karlie had changed the channel to the Sportscenter. You relaxed back into the bed, content to watch the commentators break down the game. Your breath caught in your throat as they played the collision again. It wasn’t watching the accident that made you freeze, but instead the photos of a very upset looking Taylor rushing into the hospital. You never wanted to scare or her them, and knowing that you did was really hard. You weren’t upset that the fans had figured it out, frankly, you were surprised that it hadn’t happened earlier.

“So I guess we should tell the fans that I’m not dead,” You mumbled after a few minutes, slowly turning to look at Taylor.

“You’re ok with them knowing?” She asked hesitantly, running the hand that was carding through your hair down your cheek in a soothing motion. You sighed into her touch. She wasn’t your mother, but she had always been nurturing towards you. She was the one who held you after a nightmare or a game that didn’t go the way you wanted it to. Your mom was a firm believer in tough love, sometimes too tough. She wanted the best for you, Austin and Taylor. That meant pushing you to your limits and expecting you to live up to the things your siblings had done. You knew your mother loved you, but Taylor was the one who filled the nurturing role for you.

“I’m not ashamed to be your sister Tay.” You whispered back, and she nodded. She never assumed you were. She knew her fans could be a little… much, and she had just wanted to protect you. Now you would be under an even brighter spotlight than you had been before.

“I never thought you were. I just wanted to make sure you were ready first.” She said back, placing a kiss on your temple. You hummed back, your eyelids fluttering. The fans were like a wave. You could watch from a distance and pretend you knew what you were getting into, but in all honesty, there was no way to prepare for them. You would have had to jump in sooner or later, at least now your teammates could post the videos of them annoying you with her songs online now.

“You know that this means that I get to talk about how awesome you are now right?” Taylor said with a chuckle, and you groaned. Taylor never wanted you to feel like you were in her shadow, and now that the fans knew she was related to you, she was going to take every opportunity to show them just how amazing you were. The fans were about to find out how big of a Y/n Swift stan she was.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #taylor swift x reader #taylor swift imagine #taylor swift fanfiction

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kinda-just-chillin-here · 4 years

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Greek Mythology and Julie & the Phantoms

My first watch through of Julie and the Phantoms (JATP), I noticed a few similarities and parallels to certain myths within Greek mythology. On my million rewatches, I paid more attention to see if there were others. This post is all my observations of the parallels, as well as a few possible theories for season 2 the writers could follow for certain storylines. This is a ridiculously long read, I apologize.

**Disclaimers:

There are spoilers, so if you haven’t finished watching for the first time yet, don’t read this.

The content in Greek myths can vary depending on the source. This is largely due to the fact they are just super old. So some of the myths might be slightly different. I did my best just to compare to the gist of the myth.

I’m going to refer to Luke, Reggie, and Alex together as either Sunset Curve or the boys to save space.

I apologize for any typos and mistakes; midterm season has left me with an empty head.

1. Orpheus

Obviously a major motif in the first season is the Orpheum. Orpheum literally means House of Orpheus.

Background information of Orpheus:

His mother is Calliope (muse of epic poetry), and depending on the version of the story, his father is either Apollo (god of the sun, healing, music, medicine, archery, and poetry) or King Oeagrus of Thrace.

Orpheus was considered to be one of the greatest musicians. He had a “divinely gifted voice that could charm anyone who heard it,” no god or mortal could resist his music.

Let’s look at some of his myths.

Orpheus and Eurydice:

The basic summary of this myth is that Eurydice, Orpheus’ wife, died after being bitten by snakes while running away from a man, Aristaeus, or a satyr (depends on source) who wanted her for himself. Devastated, Orpheus began singing sad songs until he was advised by nymphs to go to the Underworld and bring her back. After singing to Hades and Persephone, they agreed to let Eurydice return to the main world. However, they warned him not to look back before they both entered the light of the surface. He happily began his trek back to the surface. When Orpheus reached the exit, Eurydice in toe, he turned around to see her, anxious to make sure it wasn’t a trick, that she was really there. Only, Eurydice was still in the Underworld, she hadn’t crossed over yet. Orpheus turning around when he did, caused Eurydice to remain in the underworld.

So who’s who?

Julie = Orpheus (talented musician and desperate to save their love from the Underworld)

Sunset Curve = Eurydice (dead and trapped)

Caleb = Aristaeus and Hades (wants Eurydice/Sunset Curve for himself; controls the place the dead are)

Hollywood Ghost Club (HGC) = The Underworld

How do they relate? Stand Tall (s1e09) is where it all goes down.

Like Aristaeus, Caleb is pursing Sunset Curve because he wants them for himself (and Caleb is also threaten by the power they have).

Caleb has the boys trapped in the HGC, just like Eurydice in the Underworld.

Julie had to deal with the idea the boys died (again) when they didn’t show up before the performance. At first she couldn’t, she ran out until she had a sign from her mom, telling her to go on stage. You could argue this sort of parallels the nymphs telling Orpheus to plea to Hades, or that it parallels Orpheus on his journey back to the surface after Hades agreed.

This is where Julie and Orpheus differ. Julie goes onstage, fully believing in the sign from her mother; that even if the boys don’t come, she can do it. The lyrics of Stand Tall are pure genius. “Keep moving on, never look back.” That’s exactly what Julie does. Unlike Orpheus, Julie doesn’t look back. And the boys appear, no longer trapped by Caleb at the HGC. Julie breaks away from the Orpheus formula and wins.

@multifandomterrors wrote an essay on how it relates too! She has three theories of how it fits and I definitely recommend you check it out!

Bonus reasons Julie is Orpheus:

Orpheus joined Jason and the Argonauts. When the ship was approaching the Sirens, Orpheus saves the crew from death by playing his own music, drowning out the Sirens’ Song. Likewise, Julie is able to save the boys from Caleb. You can argue that her singing Stand Tall acted as a beacon, beckoning the boys away from Caleb and back to her, saving them in the process.

This one is more of a long shot but oh well. Orpheus is said to have a “divinely gifted voice that could charm anyone who heard it,” that no god or mortal could resist his music. The boys say that Julie has “the voice of an angel.” Throughout the season, as soon as Julie starts to sing, people are generally drawn in, even Carrie by the end.

Onto the next parallel...

2. Lotus Eaters

As soon as the slightest idea of the boys missing the dance was hinted at I knew it was going to happen because ~formulas~, but once they got to the HGC, I had a strong feeling it was going to be a Lotus Eaters situation.

Summary of the Lotus Eaters:

In The Odyssey, Odysseus and his crew encounter the Lotus Eaters. They do as their name suggests, they eat the peculiar Lotus flower. When the lotus flower is eaten, those who eat it are “overcome with a blissful forgetfulness,” and want to do nothing more than stay where they are. The crew mates had to be dragged back to the ship, otherwise they never would have returned to their duties. The most well known adaptation of this is probably the Lotus Casino in Percy Jackson & the Olympians series, where the characters spend days/years there, only thinking it was a few hours/days. It’s a time warp per se.

So what’s what?

Hollywood Ghost Club = Lair/island of the lotus eaters (everyone there appears to have no other worries in life)

The music & dancing = Lotus flower (sucks everyone in)

How do they relate?

Once Caleb starts performing, Sunset Curve are sucked in. Eventually, they are overcome with a “blissful forgetfulness” and forget about Julie and the dance. They only get sucked back out once Caleb mentions it’s the witching hour.

Alex literally says “This place is some sort of time warp.”

When the boys try to leave, the dancers and then Caleb try to reel them back in.

The next is not directly Greek mythology, but distantly related:

3. Disney’s Hercules

The story in Disney’s Hercules isn’t exactly what the myths of Heracles are. It’s Disney, so of course the stories are romanticized and changed significantly. First of all, in the original myths, Hercules is really named Heracles, and Megara is nothing more than Heracles’ wife that ends with a tragic story.

In the movie, Hades wants Hercules dead since he is the only one that can ruin his plan to take over the world. He enlists Megara (or Meg, whose soul he owns) to get to know him and find his weakness. As Meg gets to know Hercules, they fall in love. Hades uses this as Hercules’ weakness, and once he outs Meg for working for him, Hercules is emotionally defeated. However, he still gives up his power for 24 hours, as long as Meg remains untouched by harm. Of course that doesn’t happen, and Meg dies while saving Hercules. Her soul is returned to the Underworld, and Hercules journeys down there to save her, even though he might die doing so. Except he doesn’t; he saves Meg, and it’s happily ever after.

So who’s who?

Alex = Hercules

Willie = Meg

Caleb = Hades

How does it relate?

Like Hades wants Hercules dead, Caleb wants Alex (and the boys) under his control because they are too powerful. He’s threatened by them.

Even though Willie didn’t mean to bring the boys into the mess with Caleb, he still did (no hate, I love my son). Willie acts as Meg in this situation because Caleb still uses him to get to the boys. Caleb gets to put his stamp on them.

Willie, just like Meg, decides to not help Caleb anymore, though he’s still stuck. He cares about Alex, he doesn’t want him to be stuck at the HGC like him forever; he doesn’t want Caleb to own Alex’s soul. So, Willie helps Alex and the boys with their plan to crossover.

In Stand Tall, right before You’ve Got Nothing to Lose, Caleb appeals to each of the boys’ weakness. Caleb says “Everything you want, including Willie, is right here.” Just like Hades uses Meg against Hercules, Caleb uses Willie against Alex.

Potential Season 2 Willex Storyline

The parallel to Hercules and Meg isn’t finished. Alex hasn’t saved Willie from Caleb yet, and Caleb hasn’t been defeated yet. We don’t see Willie after the Willex hug in Stand Tall. I think it’s safe to assume that Willie is not safe from Caleb, especially since he helped Sunset Curve escape Caleb’s curse. There’s a lot of things that could happen. One of my assumptions is that Caleb is going to use Willie as bait to lure Alex back in. Another is that, like how Hercules goes to the Underworld to save Meg’s soul, Alex is going to actively choose to return to the HGC to try to save Willie from Caleb.

And the last parallel to Greek mythology in season 1...

4. Cheyenne Jackson

He plays Hades in Descendants 3, a Disney movie, meaning he’s the same Hades as in Hercules.

Caleb Covington, you could argue is the “king of the dead” in JATP

That’s it, that’s the parallel.

Possible Season 2 Storylines

Cephalus and Procris (I’m not as familiar with this myth, but it basically goes like this)

Cephalus and Procris are happily married and very in love with each other. One day, the goddess of dawn, Eos, kidnaps Cephalus because she wants him to herself. Depending on the version you read, Cephalus either sleeps with Eos, or he doesn’t, but regardless, his only concern is how much he loves his wife, Procris. Eos finds that annoying, and plants the idea in his head that Procris is cheating on him when she releases him eight years later. Cephalus returns to Procris, disguised as another man, to see if she would remain faithful. A disguised Cephalus continuously brings Procris presents, and slowly, Procris is swayed by the mysterious man. When Cephalus reveals himself, Procris runs away, ashamed, and joins Artemis’ hunt. Eos wins essentially. She get’s Cephalus... until Procris returns, trying to make amends with her husband. He takes her back, but not long after Procris hears rumors that Cephalus has been unfaithful. She follows him on a hunt, hiding behind a bush. Cephalus hears a bush move, and thinking it’s an animal, he shoots, killing Procris. In the end, Eos still wins as Procris is no longer in the picture, and she could theoretically be with him. Expect Cephalus exiles himself and Eos is never seen again.

How could this apply to JATP season 2?

Julie = Procris

Luke = Cephalus

Caleb = Eos

Caleb-Possessed-Nick = Disguised man

Since Caleb possessed Nick at the end, I assume his plan is to get Julie to pick Nick, thus pushing Luke away from her. Caleb wants Luke and the boys to himself, and as long as Julie is in the picture, that won’t happen. As Caleb-Possessed-Nick tries to flirt and get closer to Julie, Luke will see this and get jealous. His jealousness could lead to tensions between Julie and Luke, making the band a bit awkward, maybe even a big fight that pushes Luke to think about joining Caleb, or at least isolating himself where Caleb would have easy access. I think it would be a very loosely applied parallel, but the idea of Caleb working to cause a rift between Luke and Julie to get Luke by himself is a major possibility. Regardless, Caleb-Possessed-Nick is going to get in the way of Luke and Julie’s slow burn pining for each other.

A General Thought Not Related to Greek Mythology

Regardless of what the writers end up doing, I think Caleb’s best plan would be to target the boys individually; like the continuance of the Hercules parallel with Willex and potential Cephalus & Procris parallel with Juke. I don’t know how he would isolate Reggie, maybe something with his family, but targeting the boys one-on-one would be the most strategic move for Caleb. He could even get super manipulative with it. He could say something like “Alex already agreed” or something along those lines to try to persuade the boy he is talking to.

Additionally, I don’t have any theories on where Carrie and Julie’s relationship may go, but i’m looking forward to a Carrie redemption arc. As far as where Bobby fits in, I read someone’s theory that Caleb may approach him, offering to help keep his reputation as Trevor Wilson, if he helps deal with the boys somehow. I’m sure there’s a potential greek myth that fits a potential Bobby and the boys storyline, but out of the ones I can think of right now, there aren’t. Betrayal is a huge theme in greek mythology though.

Anyway...

While the original target audience was kids and the show probably wasn’t meant to be this deep, as a screenwriter myself, I find it super useful (and fun) to parallel classic stories and myths when I write. It can add a sense of nuance to the story, especially when done right. I hope the writers (assuming at least the Orpheus and Lotus Eaters parallels were intentional) continue to parallel the season with some form of myth or classic story, only to then completely flip the ending.

If you actually took the time to read ALL of this, my god, I applaud you, you amazing human. Thank you so much for reading it. I’d love to hear what y’all think or what theories y’all have as well!

#julie and the phantoms #julie and the himbos #jatp #julie molina #madison reyes #luke patterson #charlie gillespie #alex jatp #owen patrick joyner #owen joyner #reggie jatp #jeremy shada #caleb covington #hollywood ghost club #carrie wilson #trevor wilson #dirty candy #flynn jatp

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insfiringyou · 4 years

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BTS - Most likely to date an ‘Idol’ (Most to Least)

Our opinions only. You can find out about the professions/careers of our headcanon OC girlfriends here (only Jimin’s girlfriend is an Idol).

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1. Jimin

We see Jimin as being someone who would want to date someone with similar interests to him, and not have specialist knowledge that was too far out of his comfort zone. With an Idol, he would be able to relate to her on a more personal level; being able to sympathise with her experiences and lean on her for support. He would love being able to join her in dance practice and in singing duets together, even if they were just at home together. A part of him would also get a kick out of fans ‘shipping’ them together, finding the fanart made about them both super cute. If he was with someone who had debuted more recently (such as within our headcanon fics - where his girlfriend Ara becomes an Idol part-way through their relationship), he would find great comfort in being able to offer her advice, such as how to relax her muscles after a long day of dancing, or how to sooth her throat to improve her vocals. He also would not mind the fame aspect of being with someone famous, though he may get occasionally jealous of the attention she is getting from other men. He would feel comfortable showing her off at events such as red carpet premieres and confirming their relationship through their agencies.

2. Jungkook

As someone who has mostly grown up among other groups, we think it would be natural for Jungkook for fall for another Idol. He is incredibly passionate about singing, and the thought of being able to collaborate with his girlfriend (either formally, or just in the shower at home) would give him serious butterflies. We also think being with another Idol would give him more confidence to work on solo projects, such as writing more lyrics and producing his own songs. He’d love the support and feedback that she gave throughout the process and also want to help her with her own music. Although the hectic schedule they both had would mean he missed her so much when they were both busy, he’d love being able to steal little moments backstage together during award shows and events. His pride when she won an award would be next to nothing; he would be unable to contain his happiness.

3. RM

Namjoon is someone who is known to have quite a good knowledge of the members of girl groups. While we do not think he would seek out a relationship with another Idol particularly, if he met someone who he liked who happened to be an Idol, he would not let that get in the way of his happiness. He would understand and be prepared for the challenges which would come with dating someone famous; especially how little time they would get to have together. However, he would take a mature approach in their relationship and would find the time to make sure they still got to spend quality time with each other, either in person or far apart, using technology to help them keep in touch. As the leader of his group, he would have a good insight into the pressures of the industry, and would want to support his girlfriend with any struggles she might face. Although he would be likely to keep the relationship private at first, as it became more serious, he would enjoy being able to sit with her at events. To the outside world, they would seem like a very stable and classy couple.

4. V

While we do not think Taehyung is someone who follows girl groups or Idols incredibly closely, usually feeling more drawn to actresses, we think he would find dating an Idol more convenient in a way, though our instincts tell us he would be more likely to go for someone in a less famous group, who does not have as much media attention. He would love the cutesy aesthetic of typical Kpop, and is also someone who would absolutely love singing duets in private, often in the shower or just around the house. Dating someone who is almost as busy as him would relieve some of the pressure of being a ‘good boyfriend’, as he would know she would understand that he cannot be with her all the time. Likewise, he would get a thrill out of initially keeping the relationship a secret and hiding from the press when going on dates.

5. Suga

Although we think Yoongi is someone who would crave a more normal relationship and would be quite unlikely in the long run to date someone famous, we realised that if it suddenly came out he was secretly dating an Idol, we would not be surprised. He would definitely not ‘look for’ someone famous to date, but if he met someone who was just as passionate about music as he was, especially if they wrote and produced their own songs, either publicly or privately, he would not let the fact she was an Idol stop him from being with her. He would enjoy seeing her during events such as award shows, even if they did not sit together or get to spend a lot of time together; just seeing her from across the room would be enough to give him butterflies. Likewise, he would be quietly proud of her achievements, probably not showing his emotions on camera, but waiting until they were in private to show the extent of his love for her. He is someone who values a woman’s personality above all else and we see him as loving someone with a similar sense of humour to him. If an Idol had these things, he would fall for her regardless of her profession, though we do see him as suited to someone less famous or a music producer more than an Idol.

6. J-Hope

We don’t really think Hoseok would have strong opinions either way about dating an Idol, but it would not occur to him to pursue someone with the same career as him. Instead, we think he would be naturally drawn towards girls who have slightly different interests to him who he could learn from. He’d also enjoy dating someone with a more ‘stable’ career, so he always knows she will be there for him when he returns home. However, if he did date an Idol he would love dancing with her; teaching her new moves and enjoying the adrenaline rush which would come with the vigorous exercise. It would be something he’d love doing as a couple, and he’d find it hard not to join in if she wanted to show off her choreography.

7. Jin

Although he would not be against dating an Idol if he met someone he really liked, we feel Jin would prefer a more traditional relationship where he can rely on his girlfriend to be there for him when he comes home. The pressure of dating someone famous might be too much for him, with it being harder to find quality time together to go on dates or do things together such as cooking and creating a home. He is someone we feel craves a family of his own, and we think he would find this difficult to do if the other person had a hectic career. Once he has a family, we feel he would settle down and semi-retire from music. This would be more stressful if he also had to ask his girlfriend to give up her dreams to be with him.

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thinking-in-symbols · 3 years

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Quinquennial Life Assessment

So, it’s been a few years. When I was 19 I posted a sort of “roadmap” for the evolution of my life on this blog. Today I thought I’d revisit that. I want to take a look back and see what progress I’ve made, and then in a separate post I want to turn to the future, think about how my vision for it has changed, and consider how I can reincorporate these goals into that vision.

This is the list of things I wanted to get done in varying time frames. I’ve crossed off the things I’ve done to get a sense of my progress:

1 year:

At 19, my hopes were to accomplish the following things by age 20:

- Joined, and consistently participated in, at least 2 campus organizations that suit my interests, at least 1 of which should be competitive in nature - well, I joined the ISO and KVRX, my college radio station! Neither of those were competitive, but in retrospect I don’t really care about that :-)

- Made concrete plans to study abroad - Nope, unfortunately I never did this. I’m not quite sure I regret that, all things considered - I traded that experience for other things. I did make plans to spend a few months abroad of my own accord, and I would have gotten away with it, too, if it weren’t for that meddling global pandemic. But as it stands I haven’t done this.

- Learned C++ and python to proficiency - Hm. “Proficient” is a relative term. But I think I have a tendency to downplay my skills, so in the interest of counteracting that I’m going to count myself as “proficient” in these languages. I think that’s fair.

- Gone on at least a several day road trip with at least 1 friend - I’ve gone on several trips with @meeshbug, my very lovely girlfriend and best friend in the world :-)

- Decided on a concentration beyond the extremely vague umbrella of “computer science” - Unfortunately as far as my education is concerned I never really did this. If anything my interests have *broadened* rather than becoming more focused. More on this later...

- Made meaningful, ongoing contributions to an open-source project - You know what? I’ve published the source of everything I’ve ever made, and I’ve gotten to the point where I can make stuff that’s not trivial. So I’m giving myself credit for this one.

- Learned to cook enough meals to eat in most days and not get sick of my own food - I wish. I’ve learned to cook a fair amount of stuff but I still get way too depressed and lethargic to apply that consistently. Whether I consider myself to have achieved this honestly depends on the month.

- Learned to keep my living area clean - I’m much better at this than I was at 19, but at 19 I could barely clear a path to walk across my room. So there’s more work to do. More on these last two later.

- Gotten a pet - Meesh and I have a dog named Courage (after the dog of cowardly fame) and a cat named Jax!

2 years:

- Independently written a piece of software to completion and deployed it publicly - I’ve always pretty bad at actually seeing projects through to completion, but I do have a few full, independent projects under my belt at this point. I’ve built a simple game engine, a pathtracer, plugins for games I like, and some other stuff.

- purchased and begun regularly using some basic amateur radio equipment - Ah man. I got my license but I still haven’t gotten any equipment. I guess I have to get on that...

- purchased and begun experimenting with some basic music recording equipment - This one I’ve done, but I haven’t done as much experimenting as I’d like.

- hosted a party - I did this for my 21st birthday and it’s one of my favorite memories! Honestly this was probably the last time I had all my really close friends in one place. I’m actually getting kind of emotional about that.

- done some kind of hallucinogen - I have now done this. I definitely did get something out of it, albeit not what I expected. This is something I actually only did pretty recently and it’s still having a pretty profound effect. Maybe I’ll write a separate post about this.

- Gone camping with friends - Despite my best efforts, this hasn’t happened yet. Pretty fucked up.

3 years:

- learned to play another instrument besides the piano (guitar?) - I don’t feel comfortable crossing this one off quite yet, but I went ahead and bought myself some guitar equipment and have been messing around with it lately :-) I think I’m going to have to bite the bullet and pay for lessons if I’m serious about this, which I am.

- Written and recorded a song - Damn, I can’t believe it’s been 5 years and I haven’t even done this.

- Met a group of people I can play music with - nope

- Owned a leather jacket. I can’t believe I’ve still never even owned a leather jacket - I’ve done this and wore it frankly too much. Kinda cringe.

- Worked as a professional software developer - Yep! Worked as a software developer for a retail company for a couple years. I’m actually not working as a software developer right now, though; I’m working in a sort of adjacent position. More on this later.

- Participated in research related to my field - That’s pretty ambitious. Not sure I’ll ever do this, unfortunately. But we’ll see.

- Been to a film festival - Oh shit, I totally forgot about having written this. That’s a cool idea. I should do this, it’s not like it’s hard (well, at least in principle. I guess covid kind of changes the situation).

- Gotten a dog - Courage is one of those, I think, although he might also be part rat.

- collected 50 records - Lol, my dumb ass really thought I was going to buy $1,000 worth of records on college money. No, I haven’t done this, but I’m on my way there.

- Purchased a desktop computer - Well, my dad gave me his old desktop. That’s not really a purchase but I think it counts.

5 years:

- Begun accepting freelance development gigs - haven’t gotten here yet and I’m not totally sure this is a direction I want to go in my career. Freelancing has its own stressors as I’ve come to learn from others. No career path is sunshine and roses and I’m trying to internalize this fact.

- Participated in a student film - Nope. I don’t even know why I wrote this down to be honest.

- Gotten laid by solving a 5x5 Rubik’s Cube in front of a girl because surely that’s gonna have to work on someone eventually, otherwise I wasted a lot of time - These are getting weird. Surely I didn’t really expect this to happen, right? Well, either way I now have a long-term girlfriend, so I don’t - wait, Meesh has seen me solve a Rubik’s cube and she saw it before we started dating. So actually I’m going to give myself credit for it. I’m the one who makes the rules here.

- Fleshed out my political opinions - Yes, I now know everything about politics and can answer 100% of questions on political issues. Just kidding. But I know where I stand.

- Participated in a protest or some other kind of political event - Done! Went to a few protests as part of the ISO, participated in lots of their events, and attended some protests with friends as well.

- Studied abroad - Nope :-/

- Learned a language other than Spanish - I took a semester of French! But I don’t quite want to give myself credit for this one because I really would like to learn a different language to something resembling fluency.

- Run a marathon - Lmao. I am in much worse shape now than I was when I wrote this post, and even at that time I could probably do like 7 miles if I really pushed myself. How sad.

- Gone hiking outside of texas - This is weird because I’d literally already done this when I wrote this post. But I’ve done it more since then, so hey!

- Been out of the country with a friend - This I had also already done. I guess the point is to have done it without “adult supervision” or whatever. I haven’t done this since writing this list so I guess I have to leave it uncrossed.

10 years:

- Lived with a girl for an extended period of time - Meesh 🥰

- Spent at least 6 months living on the road in an RV, preferably with a dog and a girl - God, I am so close to being able to do this. I don’t want it to be an RV anymore - those things are expensive. But a van? Still pricey, but doable, especially if I’m willing to sacrifice some comfort. This has actually been front-of-mind for a while. I’ll let you know when I get the balls to pull the trigger.

- Started making Real Money - Well, yep, I have gotten to that point. I do have other thoughts on this, though. Money is weird, man.

- Lived in a long-term living space outside of Texas (i.e. not including RV time) - How long is long-term? Three months? If so, I’ve done this by living in Boston with Meesh for a few months after she went there for law school. However, I anticipate staying there much longer in the near future, so I’ll wait on this crossing this one off.

- Written a book about something, idk - Not yet. I’m halfway to the deadline on this one and I have some ideas, but ideas aren’t worth all that much, especially to me, who rarely sees them through. We’ll see where this goes. It’s not exactly a priority and historically I struggle to get even my priorities done. It might make more sense to replace this with recording a concept or narrative album, for which I also have ideas that I happen to take more seriously.

- Learned to solve a 6x6 Rubik’s Cube - nope

- Gotten laid by solving a 6x6 Rubik’s Cube - nope

- Lived in an apartment where I pay all the rent - Yes! :-))) We love independence

- Earned an advanced degree (this one’s iffy) - This hasn’t happened, and whether it will ever happen is something I’ve been thinking a lot about. I sort of decided half-way through college that I would be totally burned out on school by the time I graduated. But in retrospect it takes way less time to burn out on work than it does to burn out on school, and grad degrees are a different kind of thing. So it’s worth revisiting.’

- Given a best man speech (Sam, this means you have to get married within the next 10 years. Good luck out there.) - Holy shit, Sam, you maniac, you actually did it! Sam got married back in 2019 and I gave his best man speech! It’s another one of my favorite memories :-)

- Gone on a cruise with someone I’m dating - Hmm, not yet. I’ve gone on cool trips, but none on a boat. Maybe that’s something to aim for after the pandemic passes :-)

Retrospective:

1yr: Completed: 5/9

More than half isn’t bad! I’m not gonna worry too much about whether I got these things done within their assigned “time-frame”. I’m a procrastinator in my heart and I don’t see any reason to put that kind of pressure on myself. The point is, they got done. That’s enough for me.

The things I did best in in this category were academic things, and things to do with relationships. I’m proud of the academic achievements, I really feel like doing them has increased my belief in myself and my sense that I’m good at the thing I’ve spent the last four years studying. And of course, I am so happy to be in a loving, fulfilling relationship that brings so many good things into my life. I almost feel like the things I accomplished sort of fell into my lap - of course I’m gonna do programming stuff as a programming student, and getting pets / going on road trips are things I did as a result of my relationship with Meesh. I don’t say that to downplay the accomplishments, but I do think it’s worth noting.

The things I haven’t done are more to do with personal development, which is disappointing. I would like to be able to say, 5 years down the road, that I’ve done the personal development I expected to do in just a single year, but maybe that’s a lot to expect. These are problems I’ve dealt with my whole life. I think what this means is that I can’t expect everything to fall into my lap. Those things are going to take real concerted effort to change. I’m not quite sure how to go about that, though.

2yrs: Completed: 4/6

Two-thirds! Even better!

Lots of these are one-time accomplishments, not so much long-term commitments to personal development. The good news is, I did them, and I think those resulted in some development in their own right :-)

Again, though, the things I didn’t do so well are the things that require long-term, concerted effort. For instance, while I crossed off the one about experimenting with music, it’s really only the initial investment that I’ve really done at this point. It remains to be seen whether I’ll be able to follow through on the commitment to actually experiment and learn.

3yrs: Completed: 4/10

This category also follows the same pattern I’ve noticed with the last two. The other thing I’m noticing is that so, so much of my effort over the past few years has been going towards developing a very particular skill: programming / computer science. Music and art are so important to me, but I’ve done very little real development in those areas. I mean, I’ve done some. But not as much as I would have hoped for half a decade.

5yrs: Completed: 4/10

This is getting a little more fun because less of my goals have to do explicitly with my degree. I’m starting to think beyond college, which is good, because the stage of life I’m in right now requires me to start thinking about the kind of life I want to build now that I’m done with school. Also, I’m at the deadline for this one right now! So this is a particularly interesting category because it really shows where I thought I’d be by this time.

The goals I accomplished in this timeframe are, again, mostly things I’ve done through my relationship, but politics also feature pretty prominently on this part of the list. I spent a lot of time reading and researching political issues during college and really did look for ways to participate. I honestly made politics a pretty big part of my identity over the last 5 years, and I think it will stay that way forever, but I’ve gotten to the point where I think I need to devote less of my mental energy to knowing more. I know what I need to know. It’s time to think about other things.

10yrs: Completed: 4/11 (and counting!)

There’s some career stuff in this section that I’ve been able to do, which is good news. I’ve always been scared about entering the working world. All things told, it’s gone more smoothly than it could have. But I also have lots of lingering doubts about what I want to do in the long term. So one of the most pressing goals I should aim for is to resolve those doubts.

Ultimately, I have a lot of time left, and I’m not even done with this time frame, so I’m not gonna spend much time dissecting the things I haven’t done. What I’ll do instead is say that while I didn’t do everything on this list, I feel proud of the things I have accomplished. I said when I first wrote this list that it’s sometimes hard for me to feel that my life is moving in any particular direction, and I’m still feeling like that five years later, to be honest. But looking back on these things has helped me see that I actually am making progress in my life. Not in all the ways I want to, but that’s OK. There’s still time.

In the next couple days I want to come back to this and reorganize this list into an updated set of goals, for the same time frames. Maybe that will help me think through exactly what it is I want out of the next five-ten years, with the benefit of having analyzed the things that I did and didn’t do well over the previous five.

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clan-sayeed-fic · 4 years

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Let me earn your trust (Kamilah Sayeed & MC)

Previous chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16

Book: Bloodbound (property of Pixelberry Studios) Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed & MC: Amy (I do not own those characters, they're the property of Pixelberry Studios as well) Warnings: a lot of angst, dealing with a traumatic experience, might be hard to read for a sensitive people Rating: Mature Author's note: I'm not a native English speaker, I'm sorry for any mistakes (feel free to correct me).

This chapter was the hardest to write so far. I hope you'd like the result of my struggle😊

I need to ask for your patience😌

I'm leaving tomorrow to the city that I study in. So half of the day I'll spend packing/ on the go/ unpacking. What's more, from Monday I'm going to have a lot of new things to do. So honestly, I don't know when I'll upload the next chapter of the story...

~ 2500 words

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Chapter 17

Amy jumped when someone touched her shoulder, waking her up.

She looked around, disoriented about the house she found herself in. Her eyes couldn't adjust to the light, so she rubbed them slightly to have a clear view of the surroundings.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Kamilah's voice woke her up even more than the previous pat on the shoulder.

Memories of the last day hit Amy within a second, making her pay close attention to Kamilah's appearance.

The woman was still weak even if the fever was over, and her skin went back to its natural color. She wore a light grey t-shirt and black trousers. Amy looked over her shirt, searching for any sign of blood, which, thankfully, she didn't find.

The girl smiled proudly to herself. Kamilah was clearly feeling better, and that meant the stitches worked.

Amy stretched her arms, leaning back in the chair. Her muscles were hurting because of sleeping with her head on the table.

"You should be laying and resting," Amy said, pausing to yawn.

"Thank's to you, I don't need to," Kamilah put the cup of coffee on the table for her.

Amy took the cup and smelled the sweet aroma of coffee. It made her smile softly before she took a small sip. It was like a miracle drink for her. The thing she needed the most at that moment.

"Amy," Kamilah's voice serious. "I have no words to express my gratitude for what you did for me yesterday."

Kamilah's words referred only to the previous day's situation. But her expression and eyes were apologizing for the way she treated her during past weeks. Amy knew that, and she also knew that she shouldn't point it out. Especially since it must have been already hard for Kamilah to show such surrender. That's why the girl only nodded slightly, accepting the apology.

"You don't need to thank me," Amy stood up after hearing Kamilah's words. She started cleaning up the books that she spread all over the table. "Besides, we are not done yet."

Kamilah's eyebrows raised as she considered what Amy had in mind.

"I'm not understanding," the woman said, waiting for the explanation.

Amy stopped what she was doing, paying her attention back to Kamilah.

"I read about feral's bite," she gestured the books as an example, "a lot. And it's not looking good for you. Most of the vampires turned into ferals after they were bitten."

"He didn't bite me," Kamilah reminded patiently.

"Yeah, I know," Amy rolled her eyes, "but according to some vampires, the scratch can also cause turning."

The woman already had an answer to that. She didn't want the girl to worry.

"It is more likely to occur in younger vampires," Kamilah explained. "Since I'm over two thousand years old, there is a small chance that I will turn into feral."

"But, there still is," Amy interrupted, then Kamilah's words hit her mind, making her think. "Wait, you're that old?"

Kamilah smiled slightly and nodded.

"Anyway..." the girl focused on her next words, "I'm a Bloodkeeper, my blood is in some way special to the vampires, so I made a decision." Amy brushed her hair away from her neck. "I want you to feed on me."

There was silence in the room after her words.

Kamilah stayed still, surprised by this offer.

She looked at Amy's exposed neck, feeling the need rising inside her throat. She could hear the girl's pulse, smell the blood under her skin. Imagine how delicious it must taste.

The woman shook her head, trying to control her desires.

"I won't do it," Kamilah said, looking intensively into Amy's green eyes.

Eyes that within a second lost their gleam, because of her words.

"Why?" Amy looked disappointed. "What's wrong with me?"

That made the woman laugh ironically.

"I'm a blood-sucking monster, and you're asking what's wrong with you?" Kamilah couldn't stop the pain in her heart.

Knowing her own nature was one thing. Admitting it was an entirely different matter.

"I don't think of you as a monster," Amy's eyes didn't lie, she was sure of her words. "You helped those people in Paris, you..."

"I killed more in my life, believe me," Kamilah held her gaze, interrupting.

But she couldn't find the fear or disgust in the girl's face.

"It doesn't matter," Amy told, undoubtfully. "What matters is that you changed. And I won't go out of here before you drink my fucking blood."

Amy stood there with arms crossed on her chest, acting more stubborn than ever. Her eyes were sending a clear message: giving up her idea wasn't even an option.

"Oh, Amy," Kamilah couldn't stop a smile after hearing Amy's passionate voice. "What about... I'll consider your offer in exchange for a conversation."

"About what?" Amy felt suspicious and curious at the same time.

Kamilah moved the chair from the table and slowly sat on it, keeping Amy's gaze. She gestured on the other chair, so Amy sat down too, next to her.

"You," Kamilah answered.

"What kind of deal is this when you're getting both things, and I none," Amy laughed, but she made her decision. Everything was worth trying as long as the woman would feed on her and get better. "Okay, ask me anything."

Kamilah took her time to take in Amy's features. She wanted to ask her properly about what concerned her the most. Without scaring her off this time.

"What about..." Kamilah said, "where did you learn how to stitch up the wound."

Amy gulped at this question. She knew that Kamilah wanted to know way much more. The girl considered for a second if she should give up her secrets.

Secrets that she managed to keep safe for such a long time.

Finally, something broke inside of her, and she let go.

"My mum taught me," words left Amy's mouth. "She's a nurse... somewhere," her throat tightened for a moment, preventing her from continuing.

Kamilah gently placed her hand on Amy's. She wanted to add her courage, but at the same time didn't want to push her.

"If it's too hard to talk about, I won't force you," the woman's whisper sweetly sounding in Amy's ears.

For a moment, Amy rethought her words. Under any other circumstances, she would take the opportunity to avoid this subject. But, one look at Kamilah's eyes, which at that moment were showing an unbelievable devotion and support, made her fight her past.

"I have to tell this," Amy closed her eyes for a second, gathering her thoughts. "There is a lot I need to explain to you."

After a deep breath, she opened her eyes and looked deeply into Kamilah's. Like she was afraid that after her first words, the woman would disappear.

"Let me start with my name," Amy said, searching for the reaction. She saw a little nod from Kamilah, but no judgment in her expression. "I've had a lot of them, but my first one was Amelia Moore."

Memories of her regular and ordinary at first life hit her immediately.

How she was playing as the kid in the garden under the old weeping willow. Her parents, who were sitting on the blanket which was spread on the wild, not equally mown grass.

Their smiles.

She remembered, with how much love they were looking at each other.

At her.

"I told you before that I moved a lot in my life," Amy continued. "That wasn't exactly what happened."

Screams and loud noises echoed in her mind.

Before her eyes grew a dark forest. Amy felt the cold wind brushing her hair from this night. She remembered how scared she was, being only six years old back then.

"We were on the run," Amy stated a fact, "Ever since I can remember."

"Hide her! I'll come as soon as I can," words of her father when he disappeared into darkness to cover up their tracks.

Sound of her mother's voice when she was humming a song to help her fall asleep. The constant fear that they both would disappear from her life, and she would be left alone.

"And it was all because of me," tears threatening to escape her eyes. Kamilah tightened grip on her hand, trying to keep Amy safe from the shadows of her past. "They would never admit it, but I knew it all along. They were protecting me," she looked at the wall, getting lost in thoughts. "Back then, I didn't know our enemy. Now, I've had the time to think about it. And I'm sure that it had to have something to do with me being a Bloodkeeper."

"Do you think they knew about vampires?" Kamilah asked slowly, she was picking words carefully this time.

"They never told me, probably because they tried to keep me safe from this world," Amy had her chance to be angry at them for doing so. Now, all she felt was gratitude. "I've never seen the vampire before, or I did but never knew what I was up against," she had so many questions to her parents. "We had traveled under different names since then. We had never stayed anywhere for too long."

Amy's gaze moved to her own wrist, looking at the scar. The memory visualized before her.

"You're a brave girl, aren't you?" Her mother's whisper.

Amy could still feel how her fingers were gently stroking her skin. She could understand how heartbroken the woman must have been to do such a thing to her own daughter.

"But why?" Amy was seven years old at that time.

She was shaking from fear and lack of understanding. Those emotions were mixed with endless trust in her parents.

"Do you remember what we were telling you before?" her father sat beside her, patting her on the shoulder reassuringly. "You're a special girl, and some people might not understand that. So this mark will..." he waited for her reaction.

"Make a fool of them!" Amy laughed at her own words.

"Amelia!" her mother couldn't stop a grin since Amy was so adorable, even while repeating such awful words at her age.

"I'm sorry, mummy," the little girl hung her head, meaning her words.

Amy lifted her head to look into her father's eyes, waiting for him to explain.

"This mark will hide you," his words full of the pain of what was about to happen.

"Like in hide-and-seek?" Amy asked, but she was a smart little girl and knew when was the right time to stop joking. "Is it going to hurt a lot?"

Her parents shared an uneasy look.

"I'm afraid that it will," her mother didn't lie, there was no need to. "But we got you, you know that?"

"We will always be here for you," her father's words were the last she remembered before the unbearable pain took over her little body.

Amy breathed slowly, getting out of those thoughts, trying to concentrate.

"They must have known that the Bloodkeeper's can not have scars because of the fast healing process," Amy showed the wrist. "Since my mum was a nurse, she knew what exactly had to be done to create one. Despite how badly the skin wanted to be healed," she remembered pain from constant cutting with an infected knife till the scar stopped disappearing. "I was just a child when it happened."

"It must have been so hard and painful," Kamilah's stomach tightened. She couldn't imagine such torture at a young age.

"It was, but it helped us survive," Amy's heartbeat increased at the next memory. "Till it didn't."

"You're going to be fine," her mother's voice on the day of their separation. "And you don't need to worry about us, we will take care of ourselves."

"I'm sorry that I'm the cause of all of this," tears were flowing unstoppably down Amy's cheeks. She was eighteen years old at that moment. "I didn't know that they were the ones looking for me."

"Hey, you don't need to apologize," her father's hand laid on her shoulder to make sure she would listen carefully. "Never, to anyone, do you understand?"

Amy nodded, unable to speak.

"We are so proud of you, Amelia," they didn't call her this name for a long time.

"I'm proud of you too," they hugged each other one last time before separation.

Amy closed her eyes, and a single tear escaped without her permission.

"I trusted the wrong people," her voice shaky. "Going in different directions was our best chance. For me, and for them," she gulped nervously. "It was all my fault."

Kamilah's fingers moved under Amy's chin as she gently made her meet the woman's eyes. When the girl didn't look away, Kamilah wiped the tear with the same hand. She smiled at the girl softly.

"It's not your fault, Amy," Kamilah spoke honestly. "Your parents loved you infinitely. They still do, and you love them as much. There's no one to blame for that."

Amy nodded slightly, words moved straight to her heart.

"How did you meet Lily?" Kamilah asked, trying to get Amy's thoughts to a more positive subject.

And she was right to do so since Amy smiled instantly at the sound of her best friend's name.

"We knew each other since this craziness started," Amy never stopped smiling softly. "Our families were friendly with each other, and even after I was running away with mine, we tried to stay in touch." Amy's heartbeat slowed down, she felt calmer. "Then, I bumped into Lily in the college where I was undercover. Already as Amy Cambell. Starting a new life," she remembered the feeling of safeness when she recognized her best friend after not seeing her for such a long time. "She helped me with making sure that all my personal data was changed and no one would get to know the truth. Somehow, it didn't work," Amy smiled at the woman meaningfully. "After college, we moved to New York, and the rest of it, you already know."

Amy finished her story, and the silence fell in the room. Kamilah wasn't prepared to hear something like that. She couldn't imagine what the girl must have gone through during her short life. Moreover, she was impressed by how powerful and independent, Amy ended up being.

Finally, Amy broke the silence, speaking with difficulty. She took her hand away from Kamilah.

"I get this if you don't consider me worth your attention or trust," Amy exposed herself entirely to this woman. She told her everything, and now she was expecting the harsh judgment from her.

Kamilah didn't leave her gaze, reaching again for Amy's hand. This time, taking it with both of hers.

"You are worth more than you can even imagine..." Kamilah said, "...Amy."

She emphasized the name on purpose. By doing so, she let the girl know that whatever she would decide, Kamilah would follow her lead.

It didn't matter under which name they met in the beginning. What truly mattered was the person that Kamilah had a chance to get to know. And she wouldn't change a thing about her.

Amy smiled at her, feeling the warmth spreading in her chest.

Then, she reminded herself about what this whole conversation was for in the first place.

"I don't want you to turn into feral," Amy said with pleading eyes. "Now's your part of the deal."

Kamilah sighed quietly but nodded.

Ready for what's to come.

Next chapter: 18 (nsfw)

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tag list: @onyxgaytrash, @lightning-fury, @scarlet-letter-a0114, @caliseds

#kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #kamilah #bloodbound kamilah #bb kamilah #bloodbound mc #bb mc #bloodkeeper #bloodbound #choices bloodbound #choices bb #choices stories you play #choices fanfiction #choices fic #angst

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toujoursmiraculous · 5 years

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Why Adrigami and Lukanette Won’t Last

Before I start, I want to say that I have nothing against either ship. I actually think Lukanette is quite adorable and there are some cute things about Adrigami. However, that doesn’t take away from the fact that some of their scenes just feel... well, wrong to the average viewer. They leave you with a feeling that tells you that things feel off. Which is the point. But let’s start off with Adrigami. Kagami says it best herself, they’re so similar. While it’s important to have similarities with the person you’re in a relationship with, there’s also such thing as too many or the wrong kind of similarities. They both grew up in a rich family with high expectations, strict rules, and being deprived of friendship and socialization outside of the select few individuals their parents allowed. Adrien has already shown that he would love to be just like everybody else without all his family’s riches and rules. He’d be perfectly happy and in a lot of ways, he puts himself at the average persons level to achieve that, despite being extremely famous and rich. Kagami, while she hates some of her restrictions, still holds herself to be above most others and looks down on some things. Kagami still believes in having a sort of structure to her life, having more exquisite tastes, being more judgemental of people. She still wants to belong to the lifestyle she’s grown up with. She thinks that this is what Adrien wants as well, the same life with a bit more freedom. She also has the tendency to want to control Adrien to an extent and have him go along with her just because she wants it. Kagami is the type that believes that she should get something because she wants it and puts in the effort, while Adrien’s the kind of guy that will likely go along with anything someone he’s friends with or cares about wants, even if it’s not something he’s the most pleased with, unless it’s mean and would hurt someone. This isn’t a recipe for a balanced relationship, but a one-sided one where both end up unhappy in the long run. While they grew up very similarly and have a similar view of the world, they handle it entirely different. They’re both very rash. Whenever they think their decision is the right one or there’s something they really want to do, they don’t think it through, they just act. It’s proven to be very bad in some situations for the both of them. Two people in a relationship that make rash decisions without thinking it over or discussing situations or problems with one another won’t last long.

They’re both selfish. Adrien has shown as both Adrien and Chat Noir that he can be quite selfish. But this selfishness is usually something that’s pretty harmless, apart from the way it makes Ladybug feel bad when he’s upset that his affection isn’t returned. While I appreciate Kagami caring about how Marinette would feel about her and Adrien, she won’t even take the time to really consider what’s going on between him and Marinette and how it would affect not just Marinette, but Adrien too. Especially since as far as we know (since we have yet to get Chat Blanc and Felix at this point) Kagami may still think Adrien and Marinette like each other, but since neither will say anything, it’s perfect time to move in. I think Kagami is a good person, though with a lot of flaws. She’s starting to venture out of her sheltered life. The thing is, she doesn’t know what direction she’s going to go. She has just met someone that’s lived a similar life as her and thinks that that means that they’re meant for each other, and that she can try to get him to change things about him that make him, well, him to suit her better. Right now, Adrien seems to be settling for her as he’s drawn in by her interest in him and the fact that Ladybug keeps making it clear she loves someone else and can’t love him (can’t, not doesn’t. Very important distinction) and Marinette appears to him to be interested in Luka. Settling for someone never works out in the long run. Now to Lukanette. It’s not hard to guess what was going through Marinette’s mind the first time she saw Luka. A blushing mess and stuttering like crazy. She thought he was cute (as does Chloe *cough*) and he made an effort to show her that he was okay with her flustered mess and also showed interest in her right away. Marinette at that point was already feeling down about Adrien, and he was the first one to show her that attention that she was missing. I want to point out that while Luka is super sweet, says the right things, and is rather supportive, sometimes that’s not enough. If you have, say, 2-3 people who all are kind, supportive, encouraging, good listeners, etc. But there’s that one person that makes you truly believe it. That fills you with confidence and encouragement that you’re lacking. Chat Noir managed to make her feel better about the situations going on than when Luka found her, even though she hadn’t shared every detail (and different details of the big picture) with them. Luka and Marinette are also very similar. Quiet, wanting to help others, very interested in pursuing their passion for the arts. They strike me as just being content in each other’s company at home or at a nearby park, not doing much. And content, while nice, in this context is also describing settling. A friend had put it well when she said that Luka doesn’t challenge Marinette. If she’s having a bad day, he’ll just be there to listen and play her a song to cheer her up. If she wants something, he’ll stand by while she goes after it. I feel like Luka’s a step or two below her and she goes closer to his level at her most vulnerable of times. This isn’t bad, but this is not the foundation for a happy, long-term relationship. Marinette has shown more interest in Luka than Adrien has in Kagami, but as what was said before, he showed up in her life when she was just realizing that maybe being with Adrien wasn’t possible. Kagami walked in on what was just a regular day for him. Knowing Marinette, she’s going to realize that her feelings for Adrien just aren’t going away, especially when they spend time together as friends. And we know she would feel guilty for not being able to put her all in a relationship with someone as wonderful as Luka who deserves better than that. I feel like that in itself is going to be the reason that Marinette ends things with him, if she’s the one to end it. Because sometimes it’s better to just deal with that pain alone than be in a relationship with someone that’s just going to fall in deeper the longer things go on. And of course, the reason why things won’t work out with either Adrigami and Lukanette is, to quote Fu about Marinette and Adrien, “They were made for each other.” and they truly are. We see signs of it quite often. We’re reminded how they compliment each other at times, things that we wouldn’t even think of as they’re small but very important and telling things. The parallels especially showcase this. Adrien has shown throughout the show, but much more heavily in S3, his affection for Marinette that he just doesn’t do with Kagami. If you’d like to be reminded of some of these moments, check out my gif post here that tumblr doesn’t want to show in the tags. :P Marinette also, to some, may seem happy and like she’s going to fully move on, and I know quite a few people are scared of that and think that the Love Square is dead. But someone you truly love, you just don’t fully move on. Your heart is not easily changed, and sometimes the heart just doesn’t move on at all. If you’re able to actually 100% move on, heart and all, from someone easily or because you’ve made that decision, it was never love. Or at least romantic love. While she may be with Luka, those feelings with Adrien will still remain and have an affect on her relationship with Luka. Really the most important thing to have is balance. That’s why their scenes have felt wrong, despite so many actually shipping one or both of these pairs. Marinette and Adrien/Ladybug and Chat Noir have this balance. Adrigami and Lukanette do not. If things are thrown out of balance it leads to bad things. Hopefully when both couples realize they’re not working out, things can end well for all of them and they can all remain friends before things take a turn.

#ml #miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and cat noir #lovesquare #adrigami #lukanette #ml spoilers #ml season 3 spoilers

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undertalethingies · 4 years

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Undertale Characters Ranked by how Dramatic they are

So, just a note before we begin:

Mettaton is not at the top of this list. I considered it, I really did, but despite how dramatic he is, I have two reasons for picking someone else. One: I didn’t want to just go for the obvious choice, two: I genuinely believe the character at the top of this list is more dramatic.

Because I don’t want to spend 10 hours picking through every npc interaction in Undertale, this list includes only the major characters. Because not everyone agrees on which characters in Undertale are major, I’ll list out the ones I’ll be discussing.

Chara, Flowey, Toriel, Asgore, Sans, Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys, Mettaton, and Napstablook. 10 in all. (Frisk will not make an appearance, as their behaviour is dictated by the player)

Without further ado: let’s do this

Number 10: Napstablook

Not a hard pick, really. Mostly all he does is cry, and it’s more depressed than dramatic. Dapper blook might qualify, but when it’s the only remotely dramatic thing he does? Definitely the bottom spot.

Number 9: Alphys

This one was a bit harder. Alphys is one of the least dramatic characters, but she does have her moments. I suppose the most dramatic thing she’s ever done in-game would have to be the phone call she gives you at the end of one of the neutral runs, as she ends it with the phrase “I should’ve killed you when I had the chance.” However, the fact that this feels almost out of character belies the fact that she doesn’t normally deliver such lines. Another dramatic thing she does is the note. I hesitate to label it a suicide note, but it definitely gives off those vibes. Finally, I feel like the narrative tension in the lab entries (so many cliffhangers!) should really be mentioned. I mean, she made an entire entry that was just the word “no” over and over.

Number 8: Toriel

I had some trouble deciding between her and Alphys for this spot, but in the end, Toriel is the only character who can lay claim to having dramatically stormed all the way from New Home to the RUINS. Presumably while carrying Chara’s dead body, unless she had it delivered or something. (“Is this the pizza?” “No, it’s your kid’s corpse”) While this is the most noteworthy thing she’s done, it’s not the only one. I mean, the line “what a horrible creature, torturing such a poor, innocent child...:” is dramatic when delivered to Flowey, and amazing when given to Asgore. Also: throws fire at you for your own safety.

Number 7: Asgore

Having him this low on the list causes me physical pain. However, Undertale has a lot of drama. While he’s only number seven, trust me, he’s very dramatic. Just as an example, “Human. It was nice to meet you. Goodbye.” I mean, what can I even add to that? Honestly, that entire scene feels like a fantasy novel, which is a bit of a departure from Undertale’s normally fun and lively vibe. The bit where he destroys your MERCY option, especially. There’s also something else I’d like to point out. When he realizes you’re a human, he says: “nice day today, huh? Birds are singing, flowers are blooming…” Which is almost exactly what Sans says on the genocide run. What’s more dramatic than coordinated dramatic speeches? Nothing. Nothing ever. There’s also nothing dorkier.

Number 6: Undyne

I almost put Asgore in this spot, but anime. I mean, she stands on a rocky crag and gives a speech. What more can I even say here? I dunno, maybe that her geno theme is called “Battle Against a True Hero”, and her pre-fight song is called “but the Earth Refused to Die”. Oh, and? “I can feel everyone’s hearts beating as one!” not to mention freaking “let me tell you the story of my people”. Honestly, the only reason she’s not higher on this list is because she doesn’t finish said story.

Number 5: Papyrus

He’s Papyrus. He’d be at the top, but that justification also works for everyone in the top four. Also known as: the really really dramatic ones.

Number 4: Chara

So, I support narra!Chara, because I found a lovely proof of it which you can read here. Now, narrating your entire journey through the Underground is pretty freakin’ dramatic. What’s more dramatic? “Chara. The demon that comes when people call its name.” the speech Chara gives at the end of the genocide run is chilling, truthful, and very dramatic. The whole thing is basically one long callout for the player, reminding you who really held the knife, and the way it’s delivered is far too perfect for Chara to have improvised it. That’s right, I’m proposing that they rehearsed it. What else would they do while you wander around looking for murder victims? Also: “But nobody came” is just absolutely top-tier.

Number 3:

And the bronze medal goes toooooooo: Sans

It was really hard to pick whether Sans or Chara should get this spot, since they’re both just so dramatic, but what it came down to in the end is that Sans is just more of a presence. He follows you throughout the pacifist run, showing up at least twice in every area till Hotland. And every time he shows up, he uses his appearance either for a dumb joke... or to make you feel a chill down your spine. In Grillby’s, he stops time, completely casually, and doesn’t even say anything particularly incriminating! Rather, it’s a casual display of his ridiculous power that’s clearly done just to freak you out. Another thing it would be criminal not to mention is the restaurant scene, which I’m not going to recite, because it’s impossible to forget. And, of course, the geno run. Sans doesn’t show up as much on the geno run as he does the pacifist, but he plays a much larger role, as the final boss. He haunts you throughout Snowdin, dogging your footsteps and remonstrating you for choosing the violent path. He also repeatedly tells you that if you continue as you are now, you’ll face consequences. He’s right. You face him. Do I really need to tell you how that qualifies as dramatic? Yeah, didn’t think so.

Number 2:

Our silver medal winner is the silver man himself!: Mettaton

Need I go on?

Number 1:

Who could be more dramatic than Mettaton? More secretive than Sans? (well, no one is as secretive as Sans, but this character might come in second) More creepy than Chara?

It’s your best friend, Flowey!

The very first thing Flowey does in the game is to be unnecessarily dramatic to the point of harming his goals. Because he pretends to be nice before betraying you, rather than just murdering you, Toriel arrives in time to stop him. Of course, you can reset, so it wouldn’t have made any difference, but he didn’t know that. Then, after Toriel, he straight up tells you he has plans in the works! Also “I am the prince of this world’s future” is peak drama. But wait! It only gets more ridiculous! He specifically waits to murder Asgore until you’ve almost killed him, even though he could have absorbed the SOULs and fought you at any time during the fight! Then comes the true pacifrisk- sorry, true pacifist run. His introduction? Tell me with a straight face you’ve seen something more Extra than the ASRIEL DREEMURR name drop. I’ll wait. Also, the absolute god of hyperdeath? Really? REALLY? Yeah, I think we’re done here.

#undertale #undertale headcanon #undertale headcanons #undertale ranking #undertale character ranking #do you guys want me to post my notes for this? They're a lot funnier #flowey is a dramatic bitch #i know i didn't really say anything about papyrus or mettaton but i wasn't really sure what -to- say beyond #every interaction with them ever

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teddy-bear-surprise · 3 years

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Chapter 2: The Brink of Darkness

|| Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 Part 1 || Chapter 7 Part 2 || Chapter 8 || Almost The End || Chapter 9 ||

WARNING: Mentions of death/murder and excessive drinking

It was nearing five o'clock when Ophelia wandered through the aisles of some random corner store in Downtown LA, picking up, examining, and adding items to her basket. She was thinking about what to do for New Years', only two weeks remained before she would enter 2018 and she could not wait to celebrate. She considered crashing a party in LA, staying at home and watching the ball drop on the television, or possibly even flying out to New York to see it for herself.

Ophelia had made a lot of money in her youth, showered in promotions and offers from some of the biggest engineering companies in the United States and beyond. Now, at the age of thirty-seven, she rarely had to work anymore. Her days and nights were generally spent in the solitude of her home, simply reading or researching novelties. It was rare for Ophelia to go out and travel, so visiting New York City on New Years' sounded like a swell idea. She nursed the idea as she walked, deciding to look into it further once she returned home and she continued her shopping.

The first items that she picked up were two fresh linen-scented candles, one bottle of acetone, and a nice bottle of cheap, red wine. It felt like just yesterday she had turned twenty-one and buying alcohol still felt like a crime... frankly, a lot of things she did felt like that. She was about to enter the snack aisle to look for some decadent snacks, but she heard a television chittering from the front of the store, catching her attention.

"One more dead celebrity this morning, it's absolutely tragic. Rachel, what do you think is happening? These murders are scaring everyone, myself included."

"Well, Diego, it seems as though the perpetrator, or possibly perpetrators, are targeting rich, male celebrities. Why exactly, we do not know. More about the Golden Murders after this break–"

Ophelia was amused by their ignorance, "If only they knew who those men really were," she thought to herself.

An ad began playing and Ophelia's attention was once more drawn to her hunger. She found the popcorn first, stocking up on three boxes of the salty snack before searching for her other craving. Once she added a bar of dark chocolate to her now overflowing basket, she headed towards the checkout lines.

She acted incredibly nonchalant, her expression never faltered from its indifferent norm, even as the clerk conversed with her.

"You see what they just showed on the news? Scary stuff, huh?" The cashier looked up at Ophelia, raising his eyebrows.

"Uhhh, yeah. It is kind of scary, I guess. I'm not a man though, so I don't really think I have to worry," she did not want to divulge much on the subject, preferring to keep an ambiguous expression.

The cashier ignored her dismissive tone and continued rambling on, "Y'know, when the first one happened I wasn't that surprised, these rich people can get mixed up in some shady things sometimes so I was like, 'It's just one dead rich man, what's the big deal?' But now. Now, I'm definitely thinking that something's up. Either they're all in the same cult," he lowered his voice and leaned towards Ophelia who withdrew from him.

"Or they've all done something really, really bad," he straightened up again and finished scanning her items, "Your total is gonna be twenty-three dollars and forty-eight cents. Cash or card?"

His demeanor returned to normal and Ophelia shrugged off the odd tangent he had gone off on before replying, "Cash, exact change," and picking up her bag as she dropped her money on the counter.

She exited the store quickly and threw her purchase into the front, passenger's seat of her 1982 Chevrolet Citation. A classic, but somewhat ugly, light blue car. She inserted her key into the ignition, pushed down on her brake pedal, and twisted it a few times as the engine sputtered. Annoyed at her junk car, she smacked her hand against the key angrily. This time when she turned it, however, the engine started. She pulled out of the crowded, street-side parking spot and started on her way home.

Her brain was clouded and churning, both hating and loving all of the attention she was indirectly receiving on the news. Despite slightly enjoying the attention, she wished people would not talk about it as much, especially if they were spending most of the time idolizing the abusive men who were killed. Even opening the windows to feel the brisk air as she drove did nothing to clear her mind. She turned to her last resort, the radio. She cranked up the volume, which was not actually loud at all, and turned the station to one that was playing one of her favorite songs from the 2012 era. Ophelia sang along loudly, enjoying the rhythm and lyrics equally.

When the song ended though, the station's hosts brought up the Golden Murders once more, infuriating her and her grip tightened on the steering wheel.

"So, we've just received news that federal law enforcement will now be taking interest in this upsetting case. What do you think of this?"

"I think that it's a great idea. I have no doubt that our local law enforcement was doing their best, but these are celebrities we're talking about, their faces are plastered everywhere and people look up to them. It's scaring people, you know? The faster they can get to the bottom of this, the better."

"You heard it here first, folks. The FBI will be landing here in LA in two days, whoever is behind these murders, you better buckle up buddy. Until next time on 97.9, the station of your dreams!"

Ophelia rolled her eyes and clicked it off, so much for escaping her problems. She hated the way that these reporters always made her feel like the prey when in reality, she was the hunter. But she was not the only hunter in this game. Her partner, Catherine, was just as guilty and probably nowhere near as worried as Ophelia. She was almost certain that it was just Catherine's clinically psychotic tendencies that gave her the upper hand in situations like these, but she still felt a tinge of jealousy.

She had met Catherine 'Cat' Adams a few years ago on Tinder. Cat's profile surprised her, bringing all of the spunk of a younger woman, despite being only a year younger than Ophelia, but without the immaturity. On their first date, they went out to one of those silly drive-in movies and watched the worst possible movie in cinematic existence. It did not matter to them though because they talked the entire time, sharing their favorite and their most hated things about life.

Ophelia soon realized that she and Catherine were near mirror images of each other, in terms of ideologies at least. After only three more dates, the two became an official couple. Cat even admitted, two months into their relationship, that she never intended to make a Tinder account and said that it was much too irresponsible in her line of work. When Ophelia asked Cat what this line of work was, she received a very ambiguous answer.

"I'd love to tell you, hun, but I don't think I can. Not yet, at least. Maybe someday," she could remember Cat tucking her hair behind her ear and cupping her chin as she said this next part, "when we've been together for longer, I might even invite you to come work with me."

She never expected that a couple of years later, she and Cat would become a murderous duo, slightly resembling the women of the musical, Chicago. Though they had broken up the first time that Cat was sent to prison, they remained extremely close and it was not until she escaped in August that they began their moonlight endeavors.

According to Catherine, it had been 'shockingly' easy and 'way too fun' to escape, not even requiring her to employ her 'Plan B'. Ophelia did not even know that she would be seeing Cat again within the century, but when she showed up on Ophelia's doorstep in the middle of the night, her ex-lover could not help but let her back into her life.

Cat's slightly off-kilter and bold mannerisms were some of Ophelia's favorite things about her. Now, unfortunately, Cat was forced to be much more low-key. She drove the most average car in existence, a run-down 2008 Toyota Corolla; lived in an extremely average apartment with one room and one bathroom; and looked like the average Los Angelean thirty-year-old-woman with her now blonde hair.

Ophelia paid for all of Cat's expenses, like her apartment and groceries, and though it barely dented her pockets, she always made sure that Catherine respected the fact that she was spending Ophelia's money and not her own. They had an incredibly symbiotic relationship, of course, living apart did make some aspects more difficult. Ophelia took care of all of the necessities, such as materials and planning and Cat took care of the creative aspects of their 'activities'.

They could not fully remember how it all happened. It started innocently with some tequila shots and the celebration of Cat's return. Within an hour, however, the two were stumbling around drunk and preaching their hatred for their abusive fathers and men in general which, for a while, was fine. Suddenly things took a turn when Cat asked if Ophelia had ever considered killing her father. Ophelia laughed drunkenly for a few minutes before managing to spit out the fact that he was already dead. The two of them burst into a cacophony of drunken laughter that rang throughout her house. When they calmed down though, Cat asked again, this time even more serious. The rest, including a bit of an entanglement between them, was history because what happens on a drunken night, stays in the drunken night.

For some reason, thinking about her and Cat's history brought her a sense of peace. So much so that she was already pulling into her driveway when she switched her train of thought. The yellow-beige tones of her house repulsed her, but they were neutral and bland, practically guaranteeing that she would stay out of people's line of sight. Ophelia opened her car door, leaning her elbow on the top of it, and looked behind her admiring the landscape of the mountains that surrounded her home, because even if the home itself was ugly, at least it had a good view. She leaned back into her car to grab her purse and shopping bag before slamming the car door and heading towards its trunk. Inside, she retrieved a trash bag, which although very large and cold, was surprisingly light and easy to carry.

She carried all of these into her house, struggling to open the door with only one free hand, and set them down near her back door. After writing down a quick note to look more into the idea of going to New York, Ophelia began putting up her new purchases. She was incredibly tired and not entirely in the mood to do menial cleaning duties but continued anyway. The two candles each earned a spot on either side of her countertop, the wine went into her refrigerator, and the snacks got tossed into the pantry. The acetone, on the other hand, got a very special spot in her pocket. She carried it with her outside, picking up the trash bag on her way to her backyard.

Ophelia stopped in front of an oddly-shaped fire-pit, one of her own inventions from her time at MIT (it seemed useless at the time but now came in handy), and lifted its cover. It featured a thick, steel, rounded lid and a sturdy concrete body. She dumped out the contents of the trash bag into the strange pit, promptly followed by her pouring out the bottle of acetone and banging the top shut. After waiting a few seconds, enough time for enough of the acetone to accumulate inside the pit in its gaseous form, she clicked a small red button and heard a blast go off inside. It had been specially designed to withstand the accumulated pressure of an incredibly powerful flash fire, though the ones she was creating were not very large. A few more seconds later, following the activation of the pit's exhaust system, Ophelia opened it back up to reveal the ashes of her once bloodied clothing.

She coughed at the pungent smell and rushed back inside to where there was cleaner air. Even within her house, the smell followed her, so she decided to light her two new candles and take a shower.

When she exited, her stomach let out a low grumble which she felt deeply. Ophelia shuffled over to her refrigerator to grab a slice of cold pizza. She devoured it hungrily, still feeling unsatisfied. Now turning to her second plan, wine and popcorn, she pranced to her pantry, grabbing the popcorn, and then to her fridge to retrieve the wine. Ophelia carefully poured herself a glass of the red liquid as she waited for her bag of the unhealthy, salty snack in the microwave to finish popping. Once the microwave dinged, it was time for her to start the party.

She downed her first glass of wine in one continuous gulp and turned on some absurdly loud music, which, thanks to her somewhat isolated location, no one else could hear. Ophelia now danced with a hand full of popcorn and the bottle of wine in the other. It had barely been ten minutes and she was already drunk. She stumbled into her kitchen to grab some more popcorn from the bag when she saw her phone light up out of the corner of her eye. Ophelia tried to distinguish the name that had appeared on her screen, but her vision was much too blurred for her to tell.

"It's probably nothing, just a scam call... I mean, who else would call me at," She tried to read the clock on the wall, "I don't know, but it's late why can't they just leave me alone."

Her drunken thoughts slurred together as she ignored her phone, only inciting her to increase the volume of her already blaring music. Popcorn, in her drunken state and time of night, tasted extra good and Ophelia finished the bag almost immediately. She rounded the corner, into her living room, and continued to dance to the beat of the music with the bottle in her left hand. Her clumsy feet stumbled slightly, leading her to bump into a bookshelf.

Ophelia looked up at the bookshelf angrily, almost as if it was a real person that she had bumped into, but her eyes softened when they settled upon a picture frame. "'Germs'", she recalled lovingly as she touched the glass gently. It was a framed photograph of her and Spencer at their first Science Olympiad competition.

They were the only members on their team, but it did not matter because they still managed to garner themselves a shining, first place trophy. She remembered how difficult it had been to convince the teachers at her school to let them start the club, how they spent hours going over budgets, fundraising, and game plans. More than anything though, she remembered how happy Spencer had been to take home his very own prize.

A feeling of sadness and longing welled up inside her, wishing she could be as innocent as that girl in the photograph, wishing that she had not lost contact with her first 'best friend'. Alas, the night was coming to an end and she could not bear the pain of her sorrows, so with another prolonged swig, Ophelia finished the bottle of wine.

She gave it a few minutes to act, turning off her music and sitting herself down on her couch awkwardly, before feeling its sedating effects. Quietly, she placed the bottle on the ground and looked up once more at the picture on her bookshelf while her heavy eyes closed for a night of dreamless sleep.

#spencer x oc #spencer reid #criminal minds #cm #unsub #reid x oc #reid #fanfic #fanfiction #angsty #enemies to lovers

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saveyourblood · 5 years

Text

Stolen Dance | Ch. 2

Notes: Is this only gonna get 3 notes and 0 reblogs? Yes. Do I give a fuck? nope!

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: None I can think of.

Song: Warm With You - Hayden Calnin

Part 1

Spencer was gone by morning. He had a plane to catch, so you understood. A part of you wished you had the chance to say a real, verbal goodbye, but your conscious knew a silent departure was for the better. Watching the only man you’ve had a mental, emotional, and physical connection with walk out the door would be plain cruel. It was better for him to disappear without a trace.

Only… it wasn’t without a trace.

On the pillow Spencer hardly slept on was a note.

‘702-555-0103 Keep in touch.

-Spencer.’

You were so, so screwed.

After taking a shower and getting dressed, you were still practically vibrating. The more you thought about it, the higher your hopes grew. You started thinking of alternate scenarios, a world where you and Spencer were in love and alone. A world where state lines and job interferences didn’t exist. The more you thought about it, though, the more you realized that a world like that could be true.

State lines exist. High-demand jobs exist. Families exist. No matter how badly you wanted it to be true, a single man couldn’t make all those things go away. And yet, you pulled out your phone and added his number to your contact list. Because when it came to Spencer Reid, you went against your better judgement. You ignored your instincts. You broke your own rules. Really, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

A knock on your door pulled you out of your fantasy.

You walked to the door and looked through the peephole. With a slight frown, you pulled away and opened the door.

“Agent Hotchner,” you said in surprise.

“Hello Y/N,” he greeted. Despite it being 7:30 in the morning, he was wearing a suit. You wondered if he ever got tired of doing so.

“How do you know where I live?” You asked.

“Sheriff Longman,” he answered simply. “May I come in?”

“If you want,” you shrugged, stepping aside so he could enter. You gestured to the small table in the kitchen. “Can I get you anything? Coffee, water..?”

“Coffee would be great, thanks.”

You brewed a pot while you were showering, so thankfully, it sat on the hotplate, full and ready to be poured. You took two mugs from the cupboard, put a splash of milk in one, and let only coffee fill the other. You took a seat across from Hotch, pushing the mug of black coffee towards him.

“Thank you,” he said, then observed the hot beverage. “What makes you think I take my coffee black?”

“You’re a man of authority, and judging by your composure, you have been for awhile,” you said. “The lines on your face and bags under your eyes suggest you don’t get much sleep, so considering this and your demanding career, you drink coffee to function. You got used to the taste, eventually.”

You raised your own mug to your lips, then laughed nervously in realization. “Sorry. After helping with the case, my filter came off.”

“How long have you been profiling?” Hotch asked.

“Since before I knew its name,” you answered. “My dad always said ‘people watching’ was my hobby. Most people just think I’m good at spotting liars.”

“What do you think?”

You shrugged. “I’ve been profiling for as long as I can remember. I like studying people’s habits, learning the way they think. Humans fascinate me.” You paused. “Why are you here, exactly?”

Hotch smiled briefly, probably at how long it took you to ask. “You weren’t at the station for very long yesterday.”

“I talked to Caleb while you guys were arresting Beck,” you explained. “We talked. By the time you got back, I knew what I needed to know.”

“Which is?”

“I messed up the profile.”

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “How so?”

“Caleb Chasing made mistakes when it came to his marriage, but he’s not a bad man. He told me it was his fault they ever got divorced, and that Stephanie didn’t win full custody, he gave it to her.”

“Really?” You nodded, sipping your drink. “It wasn’t court-ordered, but Caleb took the kids every other weekend. Stephanie agreed to that. I totally misread the situation.”

“You didn’t,” Hotch disagreed. “Your profile was spot on.”

You frowned. “How?”

“Stephanie was his type, and her divorce with Caleb was the stressor.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Austin didn’t kill because he was angry with Stephanie: he was angry with Caleb,” Hotch explained. “His love for Stephanie didn’t go away after she married, but his anger towards Caleb amplified.”

“He loved her so much that he didn’t kill Caleb,” you whispered in realization. “He wanted to hurt Caleb, but he knew it would hurt her, so he refrained.” Hotch nodded.

“But why not just kill Caleb?” you said.

“Like you said, hurting Caleb would hurt Stephanie. Invert that logic.”

“The women were surrogates for Stephanie, and when he was done with them, he used them against Caleb.”

“Your profile was right,” Hotch repeated. “We brought in the wrong man, yes, but without Caleb, we never would have found Beck. We wouldn’t have found Caleb without your profile.”

“I’m just glad I could help,” you ceded. You paused. “Did he ever mention why he washed and folded the clothes?” “He thought he was doing Stephanie justice,” Hotch answered. “He made his victims take off their clothes before he raped them, and after killing them, he wanted to touch the body as little as possible. That’s why he didn’t redress them.”

“So there was no blood on their clothes,” you thought aloud. “Beck just genuinely thought he was doing them a service.”

Hotch nodded. You merely shuddered in response.

“Have you ever considered becoming a Behavioral Analyst?” Hotch proceeded to ask.

You looked up in surprise. “That’s... not really an option around here,” you replied.

“You could relocate,” Hotch said. “You served in the Army, which means you could attend classes virtually anywhere, and they would be paid for.”

“Are you offering me a job, Agent Hotchner?” You asked, confused.

“I can’t promise anything, but considering your background and natural abilities, I think it’d be fairly easy to find an opening for you in the BAU,” Hotch told you. “You proved yourself to everyone on my team, including myself. All you would need is the credentials. ...That is, if you’re interested.”

You bit your lip, considering your options.

Hotch wasn’t offering you anything concrete, but damn if he wasn’t offering you something. You hardly knew the man, yet something told you it wasn’t everyday that he told someone they’d make a good profiler, especially when said person isn’t even in law enforcement. Not to mention, he was absolutely right — your service in the Army covered the tuition of practically any school you could dream of going to. You could get your degree in New York, or California, or DC.

You could be within a few miles of Spencer, rather than a few hundred.

When it came down to it, though, you didn’t live in a fairytale. Similar to your ‘relationship’ with Spencer, conflicts arose. You already had a job, and you loved it. Colorado, though not your favorite place to live, was home, and it wasn’t done with you yet. Life wasn’t as easy as moving across the country to pursue a career while courting a man who might not even be interested in you.

“I can’t leave,” you said quietly. “My life is here.”

Hotch didn’t seem to react; over the years, he mastered his poker face.

“It’s a lot to think about,” Hotch sympathized, “and I don’t expect an immediate answer. In fact, I don’t need an answer at all. All I ask is that you consider.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small card. “If you need anything, give me a call.”

Two phone numbers from two men in the span of two days. It seemed as though your bad luck charm was officially broken.

It took you 3 months to call Spencer. It wasn’t that you forgot, or met someone else — he crossed your mind everyday. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to speak to him.

For a long time, you tried convincing yourself that he didn’t really care. You decided he gave you his number out of charity, or because he didn’t want to be a guy who has meaningless sex. It took you a long time to consider the fact that he might actually like you, might actually want to spend time with you. That he might want to see you again as desperately as you wanted to see him.

Once you came to this conclusion, an opportunity fell in your lap.

You decided to finally call Spencer right before your shift started. Other people probably considered it to be the worst possible time, but you thought through your plan for days before the execution. Your work kept you busy, which meant you wouldn’t have time to think about your boy troubles. You’d be too busy saving lives. Also, your shift was at night, so by the time you got home, you’d be too exhausted to let your worries keep you up. It seemed like a win-win situation.

When everyone left the locker room, you sat down on the bench with a nervous breath. Your stomach was in knots and it got harder to breathe with each passing second. Biting the bullet, you went to your contact list, scrolled down to the “S” section, and dialed the first name you read.

After 3 rings, the call went to voicemail. Though this partially worried you, it mostly made you feel relieved. It would be so much easier talking to his answering machine.

‘This is Dr. Spencer Reid. I can’t come to the phone right now, so please, leave a message,’ a recording of his voice said.

It wasn’t a fake number. You sighed, endlessly grateful.

“Hi, Spencer,” you said, sounding like you had just run a marathon. You cleared your throat in an attempt to sound more composed. “This is Y/N, the paramedic from Colorado,” you said. “I was invited to this wedding in Vegas, and I was wondering if you wanted to be my plus one. It’s over the weekend, so you should be back to work by Monday.”

You laughed nervously. “I honestly don’t know if you even remember me. If you don’t, or if you don’t want to go, please ignore this message. If you do remember me, and you do want to go, feel free to text me or give me a call back. That’s it, I guess. Goodbye, Dr. Reid.”

The butterflies in your stomach dispersed by the time you hung up. You ran your hands through your hair, feeling both triumphant and anxious. You pushed the latter emotion to the side. The worst part was over. The ball was in his court.

_____________________

Your shift was the longest you’d had in a while. You resuscitated a middle-aged man, tended to to the bloody aftermath of a bar fight, and delivered a baby, all within the span of your 12-hour shift. Normally, your days were much, much slower. The silver lining was that you didn’t have a second to spare, which meant you went half a day without thinking of Spencer and the voicemail you left for him. That aspect of your plan worked out pretty well.

Once you got home, you tossed your coat onto the table and dropped your bag to the floor. You were exhausted. Despite the change of clothes you went through in the middle of the night, you still smelled like blood and other various bodily fluids. Oh, the glamour of working in the medical field.

Not wanting to bring the grime of your job into your bed, you hopped into the shower. You were in and out quick, deciding against washing your hair. You only wanted to clean up so you could get some sleep.

Once you were out of the bathroom, you walked back into your bedroom. You checked your phone, which you left on the nightstand. You had one text left unread.

‘Spencer: which weekend?’

So much for sleeping.

_____________________

Over the next month, you and Spencer worked out the details. The wedding was a great excuse, but Spencer actually proposed the idea of spending more time together, which may or may not have made you squeal. Thankfully, you were alone when you read the text, so only you had to live with the embarrassment.

The wedding was on Saturday. The flight he ended up scheduling was for Wednesday. He’d spend the night at your apartment, and on Thursday morning, the two of you would start a 7+ hour road trip to Nevada.

You enjoyed road trips already, so the idea of spending that time with Spencer seemed almost too good to be true. Plus, the fact that two nights would be spent at a hotel was no accident. You wanted to drag those 7 hours out for as long as possible, and Spencer didn’t seem too opposed to the idea.

If everything went according to plan, the two of you would be back in Colorado by Monday, and his returning flight was scheduled for Tuesday morning. Almost an entire week of nothing but him. You could only hope he was as excited as you were.

Though it seemed like a fantasy, Wednesday did come. You stood in the airport, holding a sign that read “Dr. Spencer Reid”. Mostly, it was a joke, but a part of you thought he may have forgotten your face.

Eventually, you saw a tall, gangly brunette with glasses make his way down the escalator. Your face broke into a smile as you lifted the sign above your head. You managed to catch Spencer’s attention. He broke into a grin.

Once he made his way through the crowd, Spencer simply stood in front of you for a moment. He looked your frame up and down, taking in every inch of beauty he saw. His eyes met yours.

“Hi,” he said quietly, smiling.

“Hello,” you responded.

The two of you chuckled and hugged each other.

He was quite a bit taller than you, so moments after wrapping your arms around him, you felt his chin settle onto your shoulder. When he adjusted, you felt his lips against your neck. You held him tighter.

“You look… amazing,” he said breathlessly, pulling away. He kept his hands on your arms.

Your face was beginning to hurt because of how much you were smiling. “Thank you. So do you.”

You reached your hand up, carding your fingers through his hair. “You cut your hair.”

“You like it?” He asked. There was a small, almost microscopic nervous edge in his voice.

“I like you,” you said simply.

That earned you a kiss.

To anyone passing by, the two of you looked like any average couple: happy to be reunited, and happy to be in love. Oh, how you wished it was that simple.

You weren’t sure Spencer was in love. You weren’t sure you were in love, if you were completely honest. All you knew was that around him, the world disappeared, at least for a little while. No one’s made you feel that way in your life, not even before you joined the Army.

You saw some things overseas, some things you wanted desperately to forget. You thought resigning and returning home would fix that, make you forget. All it seemed to do so far, though, was distract you with other things you also didn’t want to think about. It seemed like, no matter how hard you tried, you could no longer see in color. Since the Army, since your father… you saw the world in black and white.

Not around him, though. Around him, there was more color than you could fathom. Instead of trying to figure out why, you kissed him. You kissed him, and for the life of you, you didn’t want to stop.

By Thursday evening, the two of you had been on the road for almost 4 ½ hours. You had done most of the driving, but you didn’t mind. With Spencer in the passenger seat, you could be occupied for days.

All you had to do was ask about a highway or a structure you passed, and for the next 15 minutes, Spencer would tell stories. You were sure some people found it annoying — he stopped his rants several times to see if you were still interested. That broke your heart a little. You understood that his job could have intense moments where only basic information is needed, but you had a feeling that wasn’t the only time people cut him off. It made you sad to think he got shot down when talking about the things he loved.

“Are you sure I’m not talking too much?” Spencer asked for the millionth time.

You smiled. Your window was open, so your hair was blown back and your arm rested on the ledge. “I’m sure,” you promised. “Have you ever been to Vegas?”

“Vegas is where I grew up.”

“Wow, really?” you said in surprise. You’d never thought to ask. “You’ll have to show me around, then. I've never been.”

“You’ll fit in,” he assured. A brief silence washed over the car. “Did you grow up in Colorado?”

“Yeah, I did,” you nodded. “I grew up in Grand Junction, actually.”

“You never left?”

“Except for when I served,” you confirmed.

“How did that happen?” Spencer asked. “I mean, was joining the Army something you always wanted to do?”

You stiffened at the question. In an attempt to relax, you cleared your throat.

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”

You smiled sadly. “No, it’s… it’s okay. I just… I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone why.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Spencer assured.

You considered for a moment. “I do,” you eventually said, tapping your thumb against the steering wheel. “I want to tell you.”

He didn’t say anything; he simply waited for you to start.

“Do you remember the bar?” you asked, mostly rhetorically. “How you sat next to me, asked me why I profiled Derek instead of you?”

“I remember.”

“Do you remember when I said I have trust issues because my father wronged me?” You asked, this time, quieter.

You saw him nod in your peripheral vision.

“That wasn’t exactly true,” you said. “I mean, it wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full story. You see, my dad didn’t wrong me so much as he… died.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You shrugged, wishing it was enough to brush off the feeling. “I was 16. Losing him made me lose myself for awhile, you know? He was there one second, gone the next, and I had to live with it. All I wanted to do was get the hell out of Colorado, start fresh. The Army did that for me. Plus, I got to help people. It seemed like a win-win situation.”

“You made the best of a bad situation,” Spencer said. “You should be proud of yourself.”

“I did get to help people,” you thought vocally. “That part was nice. The PTSD… not as nice.”

Spencer laughed sadly. “It never is.”

You decided to leave it at that.

The wedding was the part of your vacation you least looked forward to. However, you had to admit: you and Spencer looked incredible. You wore a short navy dress, he rented a matching suit. You turned heads in the church, at the reception. You swore the bride gave you a dirty look at one point. You didn’t care. All you cared about was Spencer’s hand on your waist as the two of you danced.

“Why did it take you so long to call?” Spencer asked during a slow song. His lips were close to your ear. His breath against your skin made a pleasant chill go down your spine.

“Life got in the way,” you muttered. It was a poor excuse, but it was hard to put into words that you wanted to see him but thought you couldn’t. Or rather, that you shouldn’t.

“I missed you,” he admitted.

“Oh yeah?” you teased. “What did you miss?”

“Being around you,” Spencer said. He pulled away a bit so he could look you in the eye. “You’re the only person who’s never looked at me like I’m crazy. Don’t get me wrong, my friends are great, but… they don’t understand. You do.”

You set a hand on his cheek. He leaned into the touch.

“I wish you were closer,” he said softly.

“Me too,” you agreed. “But right here, right now, we’re together. Let’s make the most of that, hm?”

He kissed you in silent agreement.

You were pouring a second cup of hotel coffee when you felt Spencer’s arms wrap around your waist. You turned around in his grip, offering him a mug while you took a sip from the other.

“Thank you,” he said as he accepted the coffee. He kept one arm around you.

“What’s on the agenda today, Dr. Reid?” you asked curiously.

“It’s a surprise,” he said, pulling you closer.

“Another casino?” you asked. “I like watching you call people’s bluff. It’s kind of hot.”

He chuckled. “Not a casino. I’m taking you somewhere special. Well, it’s special to me, at least.”

“I’m excited,” you grinned, running a hand down his chest. “You know that means you’ll have to put a shirt on, right?”

“I will,” he assured, setting his mug on the table. “Eventually.”

He then took your mug and set it beside his. This confused you at first, but you quickly realized why: Spencer picked you up by the waist.

You set your hands on his shoulders, tilting your head back and letting out a laugh. “What are you doing?! Put me down!”

Spencer threw you on the bed and crawled on top of you. He kissed you feverishly.

“Still want me to put a shirt on?”

You traced his collarbone with your index finger, humming softly. “Maybe later.”

You let Spencer drive to wherever he was taking you, as the element of surprise seemed to be important. You stared out the window for most of the trip, enjoying the scenery that passed you by. Your hand was on Spencer’s thigh, and his hand was on top of yours. It was brief moments like those that you let yourself believe you and him were in a relationship.

Spencer eventually pulled into a parking lot. You let yourself look at the building he parked in front of. In a plain, black font, the sign above the doors read ‘Bennington Sanitarium’. You turned your attention to Spencer.

“Do you trust me?” He asked instead of explaining.

You turned your hand over and laced your fingers with his. “Of course.”

The two of you got visitor passes quickly; it mostly likely meant he visited often. You weren’t sure how to feel about that.

As the two of you were lead through to building, you held Spencer’s hand. When you were shown to an open room that resembled something of a lounge, you felt his grip falter. You took it as a queue to let go. You let your hand fall back to your side, suddenly feeling cold.

A woman with short, blonde hair in a long sweater stood up upon seeing Spencer. She was obviously older than both of you, but she carried her age with grace. She had wrinkles only a mother could get.

“Hi, mom,” Spencer greeted warmly.

The woman smiled and hugged him.

“Hello, Spencer,” she returned.

When she pulled away, she noticed you.

“Who’s this?” She asked.

“Her name’s Y/N. She’s my…”

“Friend,” you finished for him. You stuck your hand out with a smile.

Though hesitant, the woman shook your hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Y/N, this is Diana Reid. My mother.”

Diana looked to her son. “She’s pretty.”

“Mom!”

“What? It’s not like you didn’t notice,” she teased. She turned her attention to you. “Do you work with Spencer?”

“No,” you shook your head with a chuckle. “Well, not exactly. We met when he was working a case.”

“No conflict of interest…” Diana noted. Spencer gave her a look, but said nothing. “Do you play poker, Y/N?” “Not as well as Spencer, but I try,” you replied.

You headed out of Vegas early the next day. You wanted to get a head start before the morning traffic, and besides, you knew it would be nice for Spencer if he got some real sleep before his flight. You didn’t want to think about the fact that your time with him was ending, though, so you pushed that thought to the back of your mind.

“Why did you take me meet your mother?” you asked softly. Spencer opted to take the first half the drive back home. You agreed, hoping the silence would clear your head.

“She’s my biggest secret,” Spencer said. “It took me years to tell anyone on the team she’s been in treatment since I was 18.”

“Why tell me?”

“You told me about your dad. I thought it was only fair you learn something ugly about me and my life.”

You reached a hand out, brushing back some of his hair. “Nothing about you is ugly.”

When your hand hovered over his cheek, Spencer turned his hand to kiss your palm. You smiled.

“Thank you for trusting me with your secret,” you told him.

He smiled. “Thank you for letting me.”

The radio played quietly in the backdrop. The songs changed, and you recognized the faint beginning. You turned up the dial and sang along.

“A year from now, we’ll all be gone, all our friends will move away,” You sang, mostly to yourself. “And they’re going to better places, but our friends will be gone away. Nothing is as it has been, and I miss your face like hell,” you sang a bit louder, mostly so Spencer could hear. “And I guess it’s just as well,” you reached a hand up, running your thumb along his jaw. “...But I miss your face like hell.”

The rest of the ride was like a dream come true. At the halfway mark, you pulled over, got some lunch, and switched places. Other than that, the two of you sang, talked, sang some more, and stole kisses when the other person wasn’t paying attention. Of course, you were driving, so the kisses were nothing more than a peck on the cheek. Still, you blushed and giggled every time his lips touched your skin.

Maybe this weekend was a pipe dream, a delusion you’d soon awake from or a phase you’d outgrow. You didn’t really care. For a brief moment in time, you were in love. That’s what you chose to care about. That what you made matter.

_____________________

That night, your head rested on Spencer’s chest. You listened to his heart, and it seemed like with every beat, he pulled you a little bit closer. You felt euphoric.

And yet, at the same time, you felt guilty.

“Spencer?” you asked quietly, like if you spoke to loudly, the moment would evaporate. “Can I tell you something?”

“Anything,” he promised. His hands ran up and down your back, as if to assure you.

“Hotchner came to see me the morning before your flight home,” you said. “He asked if I had any interest in becoming a profiler.”

Spencer shifted, sitting up against the bed frame. You sat up as well. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

“Y/N, that’s… incredible,” he said with a laugh of blissful disbelief.

Your head shot up. “Really?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Spencer asked. “You’d make an excellent profiler, and you’d be a welcome addition to the team. Plus, we could use someone with your sort of medical expertise.”

You smiled smally. “You think so?”

He took your hand, squeezing lightly. “There’s not a doubt in my mind.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything earlier,” you apologized. “I’ve spent these last few months thinking.”

“I understand; it’s a lot to think about.”

As always, Dr. Spencer Reid was completely and utterly right.

Saying goodbye at the airport turned out to be a lot harder than you thought.

You sat side by side for a long time, holding hands and listening to music. You shared one set of earbuds, and the two of you took turns choosing the music. Spencer once mentioned that he mostly listened to Classical music, but he seemed to be enjoying the songs you introduced him to. And, surprisingly, you enjoyed the ones he chose too. You used to think you didn’t like classical music.

At one point, during a song he picked out, Spencer began to tap his fingers against your knee. You were leaned against his body, one leg crossed over the other, so it was easy for him to rest his arm on your thigh and tap your knee. It took you a few seconds to realize he was ‘playing’ the song on your knee as he would play it on the piano.

Eventually, his flight was called, and the two of you had to part ways. You stood up, and tears began to well in your eyes. You cleared your throat, forcing a smile on your face.

“I had a good time this last week,” you told Spencer. “I had a really, really good time.”

He smiled. “I did too.”

You felt a tear make its way down your face. You wiped it away hastily. “I hate goodbyes.”

Spencer moved in, kissing your forehead and wrapping an arm around your waist. “Hello, Y/N.”

You chuckled, leaning into his touch. “Hello, Dr. Reid.”

_____________________

“What did you do with your time off?” your mother asked, pouring hot water into your mug. She insisted on making you tea instead of coffee — something about how you should cut back on caffeine.

“I went to Natalie’s wedding,” you answered, taking a careful sip.

She frowned. “The one in Vegas?”

You nodded.

“You hate going to weddings,” your mom said, taking a seat at the table across from you.

“I hate going to weddings alone,” you corrected.

You bobbed your tea bag up and down. You chose to look at the movement rather than the look you knew was on your mother’s face.

“Who did you go with?”

“Dr. Spencer Reid,” you replied. Even in your peripheral vision, you could see your mom’s jaw drop.

“‘Doctor’?” She asked. “How old is he?”

“My age,” you responded. “He’s not an MD: he has a few doctorates, is all.”

“A few? And he’s your age? Who is this man, Einstein?”

“He’s definitely a genius,” you assured with a laugh.

“How’d you meet him?”

“Oh, he works for the FBI,” you answered. You tried to sound as casual as you possibly could.

“How did you manage to meet an FBI agent?” She paused. “You met him because of those girls, didn’t you?”

You tried not to think about that too often; it made you feel dirty. What happened to those girls was horrible, and it didn’t feel fair that one of the best things in your life happened because of their suffering. In fact, the guilt that fact caused you was part of the reason why you didn’t tell Spencer about Hotch’s offer.

“I did,” you confirmed. “I like him, mom. I like him a lot.”

She smiled, setting a hand on your cheek. “I’m glad you do, hon.” she moved her hand away to take a sip from her own mug. “How often do you get to see Spencer?”

“Not often enough,” you said.

“Is all you wanted to talk about, Y/N?” She asked. “You sounded worried over the phone…”

You sighed. “I applied to the University of Virginia… and I got accepted. I can start in Spring.”

“That’s… amazing,” your mom praised. “Since when did you want to go back to school?”

“Since I realized the world is bigger than Colorado,” you replied. “Bigger than the Army, even.”

“What will you be going for?”

“Psychology for sure. At least a Masters, maybe a PhD if I’m feeling adventurous.”

“Will you be working while you take classes? They could use a Paramedic like you anywhere,” your mom said.

“Mom, I never said I was going,” you told her.

“Why wouldn’t you?! It’s an incredible opportunity,” she argued.

“I know. It’s just… not here. I wouldn’t be in Colorado anymore.”

“So? Like you said, the world is bigger than Colorado,” she said. The expression on her face changed. “Honey, don’t stay here for me. Seriously, don’t. I can’t live with that.”

“It wouldn’t be your choice,” you said. “Besides, it’s not just about you. It’s about me too, you know.”

“It’s about your father,” your mother disagreed softly. She took your hand. “If Virginia will make you happy, then go to Virginia. You’ll visit me, I’ll visit you… We’ll make it work. Promise me you won’t stay for me, for your dad, or for anyone else.”

“I left you once,” you said weakly, shame in your voice and heart. “Dad died, and 2 years later, I left. I can’t just leave you again, Mom.”

“You’re not leaving me,” she promised. “You’re living. That’s what your dad would want you to do.” She squeezed your hand. “It’s what I want you to do.”

After awhile, you nodded.

You always thought you were good at leaving. Maybe now, you’d be good at living. You couldn’t wait to start living, especially if it meant Spencer would be by your side.

_____________________

Part 3

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid reader insert #criminal minds reader insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid/reader #stolen dance #part 2

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themaskedwriter · 5 years

Text

The First of Many

Clues:

1) I specialize in angst typically

2) I love using song lyrics as titles

3) I have a bad habit of having more than one WIP going at a time

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Fluff?, alcohol?

Word Count: 3300+

Summary: While at a bar you get hit on by a guy as a dare and it looks like it’s just going to be one of those nights, until it doesn’t.

It was happening again. You could hear them. They thought they were being quiet but alcohol made people stupid. Especially former frat boys, somehow you always managed to run into the ones that never fully left college when you were out and about.

You were sitting at the bar waiting for your roommate, who wasn’t usually late but seemed to be today.

The bar was a dingy old place but it was fully stocked and drinks were cheap.

It was Friday and you’d just gotten off of work and desperately needed not only a drink or two but to interact with other adults. However, you could’ve dealt without the group of men behind you because you had a feeling you knew what was going to happen. You only hoped that Okoye would get here before one of them decided to come over.

No such luck.

One of them came up and stood next to you. He played dumb by staring at the wall of alcohol as if he was deciding what he wanted.

“What do you suggest?” He leaned over and asked.

You gave him a blank stare, he was cute. Or at least he could’ve been.

“I’ll have whatever she’s having,” he told the bartender, Wanda, who gave you a look.

“A sex on the beach,” you told Wanda, who knew you were lying.

“Wait, what?” The overgrown frat boy asked.

“One sex on the beach comin’ up.” Wanda pulled out what she needed before he could change his order.

Shaking his head he looked to you, “So, what’s your name?”

“Y/n,” you answered unenthusiastically.

“Y/n,” he repeated, “that’s a beautiful name. I’m Grant.”

His overconfidence was already annoying you. But you had to continue to remind yourself to play nice because he and his friends outnumbered you and you didn’t want to start anything

“Nice to meet you,” you gave him a half smile.

“So, what’s a pretty girl like you doing here at a bar alone?”

“Waiting for true love to come in and sweep me off my feet.” You took a sip of your rum and coke.

“Oh, well here I am,” he said making you choke.

“That’s presumptuous of you.”

“Thank you,” he smirked, “so can I take you out?”

You wanted to laugh or throw your drink in his face but you just smiled at him and shrugged.

“Maybe,” you said as flirty as you could manage.

Grant wrote down his number on a napkin next to you. He slid it over to you and winked, you smiled but you wanted to gag.

Once his back was turned you took the napkin and ripped it up and watched as the pieces floated onto the bar.

Wanda placed the drink she’d just made in front of you and winked, “On the house.”

“Thank you, Wanda,” you said as you played with the disregarded napkin pieces on the bar.

“That seems a little dramatic, don’t cha think?” A voice next to you asked.

You turned to a blue-eyed man who was sitting next to you with a quizzical look on his face.

“No, I don’t think it was,” you answered.

“Ok,” he nodded, “Then why did you rip up his number?”

You looked back to the group Grant had just rejoined then back at the stranger.

“It was a dare. He did that because they have dubbed me the least attractive person here and thought I would be an easy target. Jokes on them though I’ve been the butt of that joke before,” you threw up a peace sign and looked to your almost finished rum and coke.

Why were you telling this guy this? He is probably no different than the rest of them. And there you were telling this random guy about the one thing that kept you from dating the most.

“So if I was to give you my number or ask you on a date, would you assume that I was doing the same thing?” He asked.

“Well considering that I don’t know your name -”

“James,” he answered, “But people call me Bucky.”

“Who calls you James?” You asked surprising yourself with how interested you were in him.

He smiled while writing something down, “I guess if you really wanna know,” he slid the paper over to you, “you’ll find out.”

He gave you a wink and walked away.

“Who was that?” Okoye asked from behind you.

You turned and looked at your roommate.

“I don’t know,” you answered.

“She was just hit on,” Wanda said.

“By that guy,” Okoye pointed to Bucky who was joining his group of friends.

“Yeah but I think he felt sorry for me because that guy,” you pointed at Grant, “was dared to hit on me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Okoye said.

“It’s whatever. Here,” you said sliding the sex on the beach to Okoye who grimaced and looked at you, “It’s free and I’m not gonna finish it.”

“Wanda, I would like to buy my lovely friend a bunch of drinks,” Okoye took the drink you handed her anyway.

“The usual coming up,” Wanda said pulling out multiple shot glasses.

“So how was work?” Okoye asked and you launched into a story about what happened during the day.

Being a nanny was interesting, to say the least. Especially when one of the kids you were a nanny for was only six-months-old and every person on the planet thought that the baby was yours despite the fact that the baby looked nothing like you. But that didn’t seem to matter to anyone, it’d be one thing if they thought you adopted him, but most of them made a comment about how ‘your body bounced back so fast after having him’ which made you want to scream.

But that wasn’t going to stop you from taking baby Mike out, because sitting around all day with a baby could get boring.

So you took Mike to Target because you wanted to buy some new clothes.

You were holding up two different black shirts.

“What do you think, Mikey? Black or black?” You asked the baby, who just stared at you, “No, I know. They’re both black, but one is more black than the other and they are different style shirts.”

Mike coos.

“You’re right, I should just get both, it’s not like I’m trying not to spend money,” you said sarcastically tossing the shirts in the cart. You look up and your eye land on someone across the way. “Oh, shit. Ok, Mike let’s make a quick getaway.”

“Hey,” Bucky made eye contact with you before you could dash off.

“Hi.”

“You never called,” he said getting right to the point.

“Is there an expiration date on phone numbers?”

Bucky laughed, you’d never head anything like it, and you instantly wanted to make him do it again.

“No, I guess there’s not. I never caught your name.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “are you sure? Because if I remember correctly, you were there when I told it to the Gus guy. So is this your way of trying not to seem creepy for already knowing despite my never telling you?”

“Yeah,” he blushed.

“Y/n.”

“Who’s this?” He nodded towards Mike.

“Ah, this is Mike or Mikey. He’s one of the kids I nanny.”

Bucky leaned over so Mike could see him, “It is very nice to meet you, Mike. I’m Bucky.”

Mike stared at him for a moment, this baby had a serious case of resting bitch face, before he smiled at him and Bucky’s face lit up.

“Well, ya know what they say, babies are a great judge of character,” Bucky told Mike.

Mike grunted and Bucky gasped.

“Tell me more,” he said.

Watching him interact with a baby was almost too much for you and you needed to get him away from this before you completely broke down and asked him out right then and there.

“Well,” Bucky turned back to you, “I will leave you two to it. And I sincerely hope you do decide to call me, but no pressure.”

That night, after Okoye stared you down, you ended up calling him and asking him on a date.

“Stop pacing, you’re starting to make me nervous,” Okoye said from the couch not bothering to look up from her phone.

“Ok, but consider this,” you said continuing to pace, “What if he’s also doing this as a dare? What do I do then? Oh my god.”

“What?” Okoye looked up at you.

“What if he didn’t do this as a dare but hates me anyway? Or what if we start out liking each other and then -”

“Y/n!” Okoye cut you off. She shot up from her place on the couch and placed her hands on your shoulders. “If you don’t stop I will kill you. And I’d rather not kill you because that’s a lot of clean up for me and I don’t want to find a new roommate. So just chill out ok?”

“But -”

“No, if anything happens, I’ll kick his ass. So sit down and breathe.”

You sat in the armchair next to the sofa and took three deep breaths. Your text alert went off, you wasted no time in checking it.

Bucky: I’m downstairs.

“Ok, he’s here,” you got up and grabbed your things.

“Have fun and be safe,” Okoye called just before you shut the door.

Despite all your doubts and worries, you were excited, you couldn’t remember the last you went on a date. Once you walked out the door your eyes landed on Bucky who was wearing black pants with a navy floral button-up shirt and leather jacket. God, he was breathtaking.

When he saw you he started grinning.

“You look beautiful,” he said earnestly once you were within a foot of him.

You looked at the ground bashfully, “Thank you. You look beautiful too.”

“It’s the shirt isn’t it?” He teased.

“I like the shirt,” you told him and his smile widened, which you didn’t think was possible.

“Alright well,” He held out his arm and you took it, “let’s get the night started shall we?”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” he smiled.

He led you to his car and opened up the door for you. Once you were in he shut the door and jogged to the driver’s side.

You looked out the window not wanting Bucky too see the embarrassed look on your face.

This was the first time anyone has ever treated you like this on a date and it hadn’t even really started yet. And just like that, you finally understood what everyone meant when they said they had the best first date ever.

“You ok?” Bucky asked.

You turned to him hoping that your facial expression had pulled itself together.

“Yeah,” you said.

It wasn’t technically a lie it just also wasn’t the complete truth.

He smiled and kept driving.

“Ya know what sucks the most about first dates?” He asked out of the blue.

“Uhh,” you stalled not sure how to answer.

“The 20 questions game, like I ask you where you grow up and then you answer and then you ask me some stupid question that I answer.”

“What would you suggest we do about this dreadful game then?” You held back a laugh.

“I think we should just tell each other our best stories for the night.”

“So you want to burn through all of my date material in one go? What would we talk about next time?” You asked as he came to a red light.

He looked over at you and smirked, “We aren’t even to the date site yet and you’re already talking about date number 2?”

“I- I uhhh -”

“Well, I better not fuck the rest of tonight up if I’m almost guaranteed a second date.”

Once again you had to look out the window to hide your face.

After a minute or two of driving Bucky stopped the car at the pier.

“Really?” You asked.

“What?” He looked at you, “Dates should be an experience, not just a fucking dinner.”

He got out of the car first and raced to your side to open the door for you but you opened it before he got there.

“Ya know, it’s hard to show off my gentleman like qualities if you ruin my opportunities,” he said.

You laughed at him as you got out of the car. He offered you his hand and without even thinking about it, you took it.

He led you to the first stop, an elephant ear stand.

“Dessert first?” You asked.

“Are you not a dessert person?” He asked looking worried.

“What about me says I’m not a dessert person?” You laughed.

“Ok, well my current plan was to split one but if you want your own -”

“We can split one,” you told him, “but I expect cotton candy on the way back.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

You hadn’t realized that neither one of you let go of each others hand until he pulled away to reach for his wallet.

“If I’d known we were going to be near the water I would’ve brought a jacket,” you muttered, not meaning for him to hear.

But of course, he did. So, he shrugged off his jacket and placed it on your shoulders. You slid your arms into the sleeves. Involuntarily you inhaled his scent, it smelled like old spice.

“Ok, so normally I’d save this story for the end of the date or date number two. So this is either going to make or break tonight,” Bucky said in between bites.

“Lay it on me,” you licked your thumb and forefinger.

“Ok, well,” he then launched into a story about the one time his friend Steve and Sam were trying to show off for some girl at the bar and they happened to be playing darts at the time. One thing led to another and Sam ended up hitting Bucky in the shoulder with a dart. Then apparently Bucky dramatically threw his arms into the air and hit not one but two women in the face.

You couldn’t stop laughing if you tried.

“It’s not that funny,” he clearly thought it was funny by the smile on his face.

“Did it hurt?”

“Not really I was drunk,” he admitted.

“Were they ok?” You gasped.

“I didn’t ask I was too focused on the fact that my friend hit me with a dart!”

You continued to laugh until you made it to the Ferris wheel line. Your laughter died down a little and you caught Bucky looking at you with a fond smile.

“What?” You asked.

“Nothing, it’s your turn to tell a story,” he said.

“Ok, well there was this one time Okoye, my roommate, thought that it would be a good idea to try and set me up with someone she knew from her home. So he came to visit and then confessed his love for her right there in front of me while I was all ready to go on a date with him.”

He looked at you in disbelief, “That’s not funny.”

“First of all, it’s hilarious. Second of all, I don’t have a lot of friends. It’s not like I have co-workers I can go out with. The majority of my time is spent with a baby and I don’t have many opportunities to talk to other adults.”

“Alright well,” Bucky said as you moved up a few spots in line, “I think that you will get along great with my friends.”

“Oh, so we’re skipping right over the second date to meeting your friends? That’s almost more important than meeting your family,” you teased.

“How so?” He asked.

The ride attendant let you on to one of the seats. Once you were seated you looked at him.

“Well, you pick your friends right? You can’t pick your family and in my eyes, your friends’ opinion is more important than your family’s because you picked them. And you can be embarrassed by your family.”

“So what should I think about your lack of friends situation?” He teased.

“That I’m very selective with who I can out with and that my time is precious and I don’t waste it on just anybody.”

You looked at him and his eyes drifted down to your lips for a fraction of a second then he looked back up to your eyes. The Ferris wheel stopped when your cart got to the top.

“What?” You asked.

“Your laugh is the most sound I’ve ever heard.”

“Oh -”

“And you are smart and beautiful, and it boggles me that you are single.”

“People use me as a dare -” you reminded him.

“They’re stupid and don’t know what they’re missing,” he whispered as his eyes drifted to your lips again.

“Bucky -”

“Y/n, I really,” he paused, “I’m having a really good time tonight.”

“Me too,” you answered.

“Would it be too forward if I said I wanted to kiss you?”

“No, but we don’t always get what we want.”

“But if you try sometimes you just might find -”

“Don’t,” you told him.

He leaned in really close to your face and you scrunched your face as he sung, “You get what you need.”

“I hate you!” You laughed.

“Do you?”

“No.”

“So,” he put his arm on the back of the seat, “On a scale from one to ten how is this date going?”

“I’ll let you know a the end of the night.”

And the night went on and it went amazing. And you would never admit it in a million years, well you might but not for a while, but you could feel yourself falling in love with him.

The drive home was odd, only because you didn’t want the night to end and that had never happened before. Typically you were ready for the night to end and you couldn’t wait to share with Okoye while you share a bottle of wine and laugh about how stupid the date was. But not this time, you tried to think of excuses to elongate the date.

At the end of the night, he walked you to the door.

“So I had fun tonight,” he said, “so, what’s the verdict on your side?”

“Well if ten is the best,” you clicked your tongue, “I’d have to go with a ten.”

“Just a ten?”

“Well, it’s a scale from one to ten,” you argued.

He stepped closer to you and cupped your face with his hand, “Do you want me to stop?”

You smirked, “No.”

He mirrored your expression and leaned in and kissed you.

His lips were soft as they glided over yours. He tasted like the cotton candy you had forced him to buy on your way back to the car. You leaned into him and pulled him to you like you couldn’t get close enough to him. And you couldn’t. You pulled away after what seemed like years to catch your breath. Your heartbeat was haywire and you could only hope that he was feeling what you were. You were about to invite him up to your place but he spoke.

“If I asked you on a second date -?”

“You’d get it,” you answered.

“Ok,” he gave you a quick peck on the lips before kissing your cheek, “until next time then.”

He waited until you were inside the doors to walk back to his car. After you made sure that he was safe in his car and driving away, you rushed up to your place to tell Okoye to tell her about the date you’d just had. You’d forgotten that you were wearing Bucky’s leather jacket but you didn’t mind so much, it just gave you an excuse to see him again. You didn’t have to tell her that you were falling in love, she could just sense it.

You didn’t know this at the time but he also felt like he was falling in love with you too, and he had no intention of letting you go. And neither did you.

#fic

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antiquatedfuture · 4 years

Text

Zine Care Packages (Antiquated Future Spring Newsletter)

What a challenging time. Things have felt pretty bleak and I debated about whether to send this spring newsletter a lot, but friends convinced me we're all in need of good news. If nothing else, I want to say two things: 1) We'll still be shipping orders (with plenty of hand-washing and sanitizing) several times a week. 2) While we always appreciate and need your financial support, we'd also like to offer the resources we have to any of you who are having a hard time.

In short: We're offering free zines (and tapes and books) to anyone who's currently struggling financially, mentally, or physically right now. No need to tell us details, just email and say "I'd like a package," and we'll send one your way. Let it be a surprise or make a list of what you'd like and we'll send you what we can. Feel free to spread the word to your friends and community through our Facebook or Twitter posts. It's not much, admittedly, but hopefully it's something.

In more general distro news: we have a few more calendars & planners in stock (and very very on sale), we’ve been restocking things as much as we can, and we accidentally left up our temporary store-wide cassette sale (that also includes a decent handful of LPs and CDs) as well as our zine sale on select titles. We also just posted a newsletter from the record label side of Antiquated Future. We're currently lending some small financial assistance to Portland writer Martha Grover as she recovers from a brain surgery by selling a fundraiser pack of her Somnambulist zine. And if you're in the Portland area, we're helping do porch deliveries of food, baby supplies, and various resources. Please reach out if you'd like one or you know someone in need.

NEW ZINES Antonia- A rare, almost-sublime zine about place, memory, and lost history. About the ways things change and stay the same. About how the place you're from shapes who you become. About growing up in a small Midwestern town without a zip code, a place not on most maps. ($5) Behind the Zines #9: A Zine About Zines- The latest issue of newest best zine about zines around. Within: the evolution of DIY comics culture, zine-fest history, imagined zines, One Punk's Guide to collaborative zines, a history of that one Crimethinc poster, The Most Unwanted Zine, confessions of a sex-zine zinester. Contributions from our own Gina Sarti, as well as John Porcellino and so many others. ($3) Brainscan #34: A Dabbler's Week of DIY Witchery- In the wake of the controversy surrounding a recent viral article about spending a week "becoming a witch," Alex considers what her guide to a witchcraft practice would look like. The results are a day-by-day guide to trying out her particular variety of secular witchcraft (that she lovingly refers to as "DIY witchery"). ($4)

Caboose #12: Jury Duty- A personal story of serving as a juror on a medical malpractice suit. As usual, Liz Mason's playful, endlessly curious take on the world makes this a ride worth taking. A peek into the court system through the eyes of this long-running zine-star. ($4) Clock Tower Nine #15- One of our favorite Seattle zines is back with tales from the record store counter, long walks in various locales, dangerous doppelgängers, and 8-track tapes. As Clock Tower Nine ringleader Danny Noonan describes it in the introduction: "This fanzine is like a bunch of people sitting around a fire in late fall, all taking turns telling a story." ($3) Cometbus #59: Post-Mortem- How does Cometbus, after 38 years as a zine, just get better and better? It's a mystery, but it does. Issue 59 is a deep dive into both death and longevity in the underground. In short: what does sustainability look like in counterculture? This question takes Aaron on a journey from the Epitaph Records and Thrasher magazine offices to hanging out at a punk-owned vegan donut shop and a tamale stand at the farmer's market with Allison Wolfe (of Bratmobile). ($5)

Doris #23- A back-issue fave from one of the best zines ever. Long personal stories that look both outward and inward in surprising ways. ($2) Doris #26- Shy-punk-girl comics, social ecology, the cynical hour, a grandpa who built malls, hammer and nail history, and more. ($2) Eulalia #3- Two issues of the art zine Eulalia in one. Grief and romance, hand-in-hand. Gorgeously designed! Letterpress-printed covers. Each issue is bound with a special do-si-do binding, so each half can be read separately. ($10) Fluke Fanzine #17- Since 1991, Fluke has been creating great variety zines covering all realms of punk and underground culture. Graphic novelist Nate Powell, skateboard magazine historians, Maximum Rocknroll, R.E.M., '90s women-led punk, the Soophie Nun Squad family tree, more. ($3)

Forever & Everything #5- Comics on parenting, depression, coffee, therapy, alcohol, Willie Nelson, Charlie Brown, and living in New Orleans. ($5) Good Days Gone Cold Days- A photography zine/art zine made while living and working in "a house without heat, without doorknobs, and without much insulation or electricity to speak of" for a late fall in western Pennsylvania. Comes with homemade bookmark, building permit, and banjo tab. ($12) Keep Loving, Keep Fighting #8- A reprint of this 2008 issue of Keep Loving, Keep Fighting. Forty pages of feeling at home in New Orleans, communication between friends, death, visiting Montreal, and moving away. ($5)

Learning Good Consent- An essential compilation zine about consent. From personal stories to worksheets, approaches, definitions, resources, and beyond, Learning Good Consent is here to help us all feel more comfortable and be more respectful. ($4)

Little Leagues #1- The companion comics scrapbook to Simon Moreton's epic Minor Leagues series. Prose, comics and photos about being in Japan, making chutney, experiencing autumn. ($3) Little Leagues #2- Comics about being in the snow. Drawings and photos of spring. A fold-out cover with facts about lesser-spotted dogfish. ($3) Our Lady of Near Death Experiences- Jodi Darby writes about becoming a cross-country truck driver as a 23-year-old woman in the mid 1990s. A mini-memoir told in vignettes, Our Lady is a twisted love song to the road in all its complexities. A gorgeous reprint of this zine classic from 1998. (And we have the last few copies before it goes out of print!) ($10)

The Paruretic #1: The Story of a Guy Who's Pee Shy- The first issue of one of our favorite new zine series. The Paruretic tells what the intricacies and complexities of life with parusesis, the social phobia of being pee shy. Illuminating, accessible, and worth reading every issue. ($2)

The Paruretic #2: The Story of a Guy Who's Pee Shy (College)- In this issue, Mark recalls figuring out the debilitating effects of his bladder issues when he goes to college and, for the first time, navigates living in dorms, drinking at college-town bars, and hooking-up. ($3)

The Paruretic #3: The Story of a Guy Who's Pee Shy (Vacation)- In this issue: searching out acceptable bathrooms while on the road, not urinating for ten hours while in the air, and a bathroom-by-bathroom diary of experiences. ($3) The Paruretic #4: The Story of a Guy Who's Pee Shy (The Search for Help)- In this issue, Mark reaches out, looking for help, and is met with a less-than-sympathetic medical system. Within: clueless medical professionals, almost losing a job over a urinalysis, and finally finding someone who understands. ($3) The Paruretic #5: The Story of a Guy Who's Pee Shy (Dating)- The dating issue covers how Mark handled (or avoided handling) dating in high school and college. It's a chronicle of, as Mark says, "how my shy bladder has driven every part of my love life." ($3)

Somnambulist Zine Pack Fundraiser- For the past 17 years, Portland memoirist and illustrator Martha Grover has been publishing Somnambulist zine, an expansive and playful look at the world at large (and easily one of the best zines running today). This pack includes all nine in-print issues of Somnambulist (a $40 value for $25!). All proceeds go straight to Martha's brain surgery recovery fund. Help a great writer, get nine amazing zines. ($25) Somnambulist #33: How to Survive the Portland Winter- A fun how-to guide from Portland-born writer Martha Grover. Within: dealing with all the rain, taking care of your mental health, venturing out, staying in, eating soup (with recipes!), and the truth about umbrellas. Illustrated by Liz Yerby. ($5)

Somnambulist #34: The Starfish- A single, long-form essay about Martha's journey through Cushing's disease and Addison's disease, and the lingering tumor she's chosen to not demonize or see as something separate. The Starfish is a surprising and exciting meditation on what it means to be in a body. ($3) Surely, They'll Tear it Down- A short zine letter about gender, race, identity, and not-knowing from the author of Fixer Eraser and We, the Drowned. ($2) Tattoo Punk Fanzine, Issue 3- A jam-packed new issue of Tattoo Punk, the fanzine about tattoos, punks, and tattooed punks. Edited by Ben Trogdon of everyone's favorite artsy punk paper, Nuts! ($15) Valentines Every Day- Weirdo anytime-valentines from zine-seller extraordinaire, Julie Wade. Funny, bizarre, off-kilter, occasionally unsettling. The perfect gift for that especially-odd someone. ($6) What Happened- A dreamy comic from UK artist Simon Moreton. Set in a '90s boyhood of meadows, sci-fi VHS tapes, MTV, crushes, first kisses. ($5)

NEW BOOKS & MISCELLANY The Collected Plays by Portland Preschoolers- In short: One of our favorite little books around! A modern classic, even. Five years of collected plays written by Portland, Oregon preschoolers. Hilarious, invariably bizarre, oddly brilliant, sometimes surprisingly profound. Perfect for putting out on the coffee table, reading aloud to friends, impromptu group performances. ($10) Four-Year Depression- A book about figuring out how to love your family in the Trump era. From Billy McCall of Proof I Exist and Behind the Zines. ($10) Zine Game- A long-time favorite in the zine community, now in a fancy, professionally-made version accessible to all game lovers. Playing like a cross between canasta and Magic: The Gathering, Zine Game is all about building your own zines. A really fun time with tons of possibilities. ($16)

NEW MUSIC & SPOKEN WORD Alice Notley "Live in Seattle"- An LP of one of the most adored living poets. Alice Notley pushes boundaries, and it's an absolute joy to hear her reading her work. (LP + digital download) ($16.95) Annelyse Gelman & Jason Grier "About Repulsion"- A collaboration between poet Annelyse Gelman and sound artist Jason Grier. About Repulsion mixes songs, sampled poems, textural walls, beats, noise, to create this EP of one-of-a-kind soundscapes. (LP + digital download) ($16.95) Eileen Myles "Aloha / Irish Trees"- The legendary poet Eileen Myles, on vinyl for the first time. Aloha/Irish Trees features nearly an hour of Myles live in the studio, reading past and present poems. Intimate, playful, raw. (LP + digital download) ($16.95)

Harmony Holiday "The Black Saint and the Sinnerman"- Harmony Holiday's record of poems and sound collage. Adventurous and accessible, twisting cultural images into something surprising, political, socially aware. In conversation with Charles Mingus’ classic 1963 album The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady. (LP + digital download) ($16.95) Rae Armantrout "Conflation"- Fifty-four surprising and gloriously unique poems from Rae Armantrout, a Pulitzer-winning poet of great gifts. (LP + digital download) ($16.95) Susan Howe & Nathaniel Mackey "Stray: A Graphic Tone"- Made in collaboration with Shannon Ebner, Stray: A Graphic Tone juxtaposes historic and recent material from poets Susan Howe and Nathaniel Mackey. An adventurous LP of spoken word delights. (LP + digital download) ($16.95)

Stay well, take care of each other as much as possible. Xo, Antiquated Future

#zine distro #new zines #zines #chapbooks #spoken word #vinyl #new lps #new books #care packages #zine care packages #free zines #portland

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buckybarnesbingo · 4 years

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BBB Week 8 Roundup!

Some amazing fills made this week, go forth and appreciate our creators!

Title: Flower Petals Collaborator: writing-what-writing Link: Tumblr Square Filled: K5 - Hanahaki disease Ship: Bucky/Reader Rating: Gen Major Tags: very light angst Summary: Bucky’s been coughing up flowers and the only cure is if you love him back Word Count: 863

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Title: I’d Do It Again Collaborator: startrekkingaroundasgard Link: Tumblr Square Filled: U2 - Queer Platonic Relationship Ship: Bucky/Bruce Rating: Teen Major Tags: mention of torture, mild violence and threat Summary: After he is kidnapped, Bucky rescues Bruce from a facility which is trying to separate him from the Hulk. Word Count: 1620

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Title: As the Spirits Guide Us Collaborator: 27dragons Link: AO3 Squares Filled: Chapter 3 - K1: Poison Chapter 4 - K2: Dark Ship: WinterIron Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Alternate Universe - Prehistoric, Running Away, Spirit Animals, totem spirits, Coming of Age, Sharing a Meal, Sex, Frottage Summary: The Clan of the Hydra value’s Bucky’s skill as a flintknapper but despises him for being a crippled outsider. The Clanchief, in particular, seems to enjoy watching Bucky suffer. Bucky dreams of escaping, of finding a home with a new Clan, one which will treat him kindly. A talented maker and only child of the Keeper of the Way, Tony has only to complete this last rite before he can fully assume his place as an adult of the Star Clan. On this journey, the spirit-talker assures him, the spirits will bring him to meet his destined mate. Tony is pretty sure the selection of his mate has less to do with the spirits than with the machinations of his mother and the clan chief. Little do either of them know what the spirits have in store. Word Count: 5713

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Title: A sketch in red Collaborator: Nivelle Link: Tumblr Square Filled: Y4 - Seeing Red Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: art Summary: art

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Title: A Night at the Nat - Chapter 4 Collaborator: Politzania Link: AO3 Square Filled: K3 - apology Ship: Bucky/Clint/Tony Rating: Explicit Major Tags: werewolf & supernatural AU, minor injuries/blood, eventual smut Summary: The fancy restaurant isn’t the only reason Clint feels out of his depth. Even though his dinner companions are clearly devoted to one another, they keep flirting with him. Maybe accepting this invitation wasn’t such a good idea. Word Count: 4701

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Title: Fire in My Soul - Chapter 1 Collaborator: squadrickchestopher Link: AO3 Square Filled: C3 - free space Ship: WinterHawk Rating: Explicit Major Tags: graphic depictions of violence Summary: Natasha interrupts him. “So here’s what happened,” she says, letting her irritation bleed into her voice and her expression. Clint ducks his head even lower. “You two morons got the bright idea to get busy on a magic altar while wearing a magic amulet. Somehow, this triggered some kind of spell, and—I can’t believe this is an actual thing I’m about to say—it turned you both into little dragons.” Bucky stares at Clint, then looks down at his own claws. Then he looks back up at Nat. “What the fuck?” Word Count: 5442

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Title: Art Collaborator: startrekkingaroundasgard Link: Tumblr Square Filled: Y1 - nerd Bucky Ship: Bucky & Peter Rating: Gen Major Tags: art Summary: Bucky had always loved science fiction. He loved to get lost in the wonder of what was possible and consider how the future could be better. When he joined the Avengers, Peter soon learned of Bucky’s interest and immediately got him started on every major sci-fi franchise he had missed over the years. Star Wars ended up being his favourite and when Peter came in brandishing his new, fully functioning lightsaber Bucky couldn’t resist having a go with the weapon. That quickly lead to costumes and a fully fledged photo shoot to commemorate the occasion.

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Title: Red Carpet Rescue Mission Collaborator: darter_blue Link: AO3 Square Filled: B3 - Rescue Mission Ship: Stucky Rating: Mature Major Tags: meet cute Summary: Bucky Barnes can totally do this, he can fumble his way through a red carpet event and not lose his brand new nationally televised lifestyle presenter gig... he just has to remember to ask questions about the premier and NOT composting (being that he is, in fact, a Gardener and not an entertainment reporter). And when he sees a fellow sufferer in need of saving from all the lights, cameras, and hubbub, of course he's going to sidle over and be a friendly face. Except the poor, unfashionable gentleman perhaps isn't a ring in like Bucky imagined, is perhaps more famous than he looks?Is perhaps actually a real life superhero? This is just fluff and more fluff of disaster Bucky and an always charmed Captain America... Word Count: 5328

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Title: Arboreal: Songbird protocol moodboard Collaborator: menatiera Link: Tumblr Square Filled: B4 - Sunrise/Sunset Ship: WinterIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: Fluff, Bucky Barnes Needs A Hug, (Arm Maintenance), moodboard Summary: Moodboard for the fic Songbird Protocol by Arboreal. Fic summary: Tony apparently has a thing for musicians. It’s brand new information for him, but Bucky is irresistible.

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Title: we could take a chance, we could make it Collaborator: velvetjinx Link: AO3 Square Filled: K4 - partner in crime Ship: Stucky Rating: Explicit Major Tags: historical AU Summary: Bucky likes to steal treasure. Steve likes to steal it back for its rightful owners. But when they have to team up to fight a common enemy and sparks fly, will either of them be willing to risk their hearts? Word Count: 5385

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Title: When is a bed not a bed? (When you’re not in it) - Chapter 2 Collaborator: riotfalling Link: Tumblr Square Filled: C3 - free space Ship: WinterIron Rating: Teen Major Tags: non-graphic injury and violence Summary: There’s a tiny safe house, with one tiny window and one tiny couch. And one tiny little bed. (Now with chapter 2, because no bed sharing fic is truly complete until they’re home.) Word Count: 2.5k

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Title: Inspired By You Collaborator: MagicaDraconia16 Link: AO3 Square Filled: Y5 - Invisibility Ship: Teen Rating: Bucky & Tony Major Tags: AU artist/muse, smutty inspiration Summary: It was very hard work being a muse. Especially when the person being inspired absolutely refuses to be around the source of that inspiration. Word Count: 1004

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Title: A Quiet Moment Collaborator: Caiti (Caitriona_3) Link: AO3 Square Filled: B3 - Hair braiding Ship: Bucky/Clint/Darcy Rating: Teen Major Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Polyamory Summary: Natasha and Bucky spend a quiet moment together. Word Count: 1561

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Title: Funerals Are Expensive. Get Well Soon. Collaborator: Ribbonsflying Link: AO3 Square Filled: C5 - Sharing Body Heat Ship: Stucky Rating: Teen Major Tags: funeral home, morticians Summary: “Is this the part where we turn from morticians into ghost hunters?” Sam asked as they flipped out the basement lights and locked the door back behind them. ”I sure hope not.” The men began their hustle back up toward the state rooms out front when they passed the cooler and heard the noise again. Steve and Sam both stopped in their tracks. “Is that-“ Steve turned on his heel and pointed toward the refrigerated room where people’s bodies were stored.“You know I ain’t ever been scared of dead people,” Sam answered, “...but if someone in that fridge is knocking, all you’re gonna see of my brown ass is a pinprick on the horizon as I get the hell away from here as fast as I can move.” === Did you know there's a woman who has a medical condition that has caused her to go to wake up in a morgue on three separate occasions? This is a story where Bucky has that same condition. Word Count: 7382

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Title: Beetles Collaborator: Justamanlymouse Link: AO3 Square Filled: U5 - Bucky/Steve Ship: Stucky, WinterIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: Howlie memories, Light angst, tw bugs Summary: Steve hears Morgan singing a lullaby that James used to sing to him and remembers the last time he heard it.“You know the wormy song? James sings it to me before bed.” He’s going to fucking vomit. “Oh yeah?” he manages. “Yeah.” she says, molding dirt very seriously with a little spade, “Said he used to sing it to you and it helped you go to sleep. You remember that?” Word Count: 721

#buckybarnesbingo2020 #bbb2020 #weekly roundup #bbb weekly roundup #bbb week 8

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