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extreme-unorthodox-cuddles · 23 days

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An encounter

So because me and some frens have started a thing about silly horror/analog horror stuff on discord I wrote this silly thing with my sona (who I don't think I've really said anything about on here will do that once I feel confident enough to draw him) doing a silly spooky thing

Content warning for unwilling prey, some horror elements and mild(?) body horror

Also @mysticcomfort because you told me to post this here

Wandering is risky, especially when alone. The sightings of unknown phenomena and disappearances and subsequent reappearances of those who do so are exemplary of this. Yet that can end up not deterring some, and even encouraging others, wanting to be the first to record what has been causing the strange happenings. But still, it is best to know the area, lest you get lost.

As one poor soul found out the hard way.

They pushed past branches and gazed up at the sky, void of any stars, trying to find some sense of direction. Every tree seemed identical, and no indicative light could be seen. They trekked through the foliage, hoping that if they continued in a straight line, they would come across something. But at the same time, they questioned if that would really be better than encountering nothing. Quiet shuffling could be heard all around them, and they could swear that branches and roots of trees seemed to appear and disappear. Sometimes, in the dark, the rings on a birch tree’s bark almost seemed like real eyes staring right at them, but a blink got rid of the feeling.

A sudden loud noise startled them, and they walked backwards from it, until they bumped into something. They yelped, starting to panic as they twirled around to face what they bumped into, and saw a strange person wearing a tall hat turn around as well, though notably calmer.

“Woah, woah, you ok? You look like you just saw a ghost.” He said to them, trying to ease them. “You seem lost, are ya lost?”

They explained their plight to the stranger, having let their guard down now that they have another human to talk to. He held his hand up to his face in a thoughtful pose while he listened.

“Hmm. Well, I know the area here quite well, I can help you if you want, just follow me, I’ll take you somewhere safe.”

He began walking off, and they followed suit. They had an uneasy feeling in them, but it was overcome by their relief at finally having someone else to talk to. Besides, of the recent disappearances, everyone had returned and the most damage they were aware of happening to them was nothing more than a few cuts and bruises, the kind that would heal in a week at most.

Their unease grew, however, when the stranger walked down into a bunker of some kind.

“I know this seems like a bad idea, but I promise you you’ll be safe.” He gave them a smile, though something about it seemed… off, slightly. But despite their uneasy feelings, they followed in.

There was very little light in the bunker, aside from a ceiling light that only illuminated a small spot in the center of the room. They couldn’t see the person they followed in, and it didn’t help they could swear they saw something slip out from the light as they approached. They called out with a low voice. And shortly after doing so, they heard the door shut behind them, and they swiveled around to look, not that they could see much.

“Sorry to have tricked you like that.” A familiar voice echoed from the side of the room opposite the door, making them swivel around again. As he spoke, some other quieter voices spoke the same words at the same time, but all around them. “I think we can both agree that you would have found it a bit harder to trust me like this.” He approached them, and as he stepped into the light, it was clear he was different. His legs were preceded by black tendrils, swiftly growing on the ground before him in very general directions. His arms seemed to have grown, becoming a material not unlike that of the tendrils on the ground, which they had noticed were on the walls and ceiling as well. And his mouth had grown wider, and was filled with jagged, teal, crystalline teeth, with a couple more of those tendrils flowing out like long tongues, and a similar mouth had formed on the exposed patch of his stomach.

They couldn’t move, couldn’t even speak, paralyzed with fear, while he continued his approach. He lifted his arms and wrapped them around them, meaning they couldn’t move now even if they wanted to.

“I do keep my word, though. I will keep you somewhere safe. Though you… might not like where exactly that is.” As he said that, he began opening his mouth wide, and elongating the tendrils in his mouth, wrapping them around them. They struggled against him, but it proved completely ineffective as they were pulled into the void of this… thing’s mouth. They felt the pull of what might be considered throat muscles pulling them deeper. They couldn’t believe what was happening to them. It had to be a nightmare. They kept being pulled in further and further, until they were curled up in a tight space, unable to escape. They soon eventually passed out from everything that had just happened to them.

…

They jolted up in bed, gasping for breath. In bed… It was a nightmare. They caught their breath and calmed themself down, briefly nervously laughing. They checked themself just in case they were hurt, but nothing was wrong, they were perfectly fine. They breathed a sigh of sheer relief and turned on their bedside lamp. Their paranoia must still be high, as they thought they saw some black tendrils quickly recede into the cracks of their doorframe the moment the room was flooded with light.

#soft vore #safe vore #sfw vore #vore writing #spooky scary horror vore #is that a tag? idk but imma put it anyway #silly sona stuff that I should do more of tbh #however I am very self conscious #unwilling prey #unwilling vore #bonus points if you can guess where a good amount of inspiration of the Spooky comes from

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lo-shouldve-been-an-email · 1 month

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Okay,since I’ve just randomly randomly just reblogging Thanatos things,I decided to actually post things,more specifically an LO rewrite because f it.

At its core I do think LO is a good story,just that bad writing has squandered any potential it has to be good,so please have my take on this.(more specifically my take on Persephone,hades,and Thanatos because I have to stay on brand)

Anyways-

(The sequel)

Persephone:

She’s older.shes physically in her late 20’s/early 30’s and about seven to eight centuries older.

Her AoW only extended to those ransacking the garden.(I swear,it would have been so much more understandable to root for her if it only extended to 4-5 people instead of an ENTIRE CITY,since we know other gods have done much worse)

Her work in the underworld was mandated by Zeus as community service for the AoW.

This is more or less Zeus hitting two birds with one stone,he gets perse to make community service and maybe(hopefully) gets hades to open up to the smucks outside of the underworld because he now has an employee not from there.

Due to her guilt about the AoW,she decides that while she’s working in the underworld she’ll set out to be the best her she can be and make up for the souls she took.

At first nobody really likes her and they just think she’s someone who needed to be dragged here by Zeus and won’t amount to anything,but she ends up being the hardest working of the staff and getting a fairly infamous “employee of the month” streak,her only real fumble being Sisyphus(of which she rightfully corrected totally not being getting Hermes to drag his ass down back to the underworld and give his his infamous punishment,of which instantly gave her back any respect she lost.

She’s the type of person you think you can disrespect until she gets genuinely mad at someone,in which case everyone goes out of their way to be nice to her even though it takes a lot to get her mad.

Demeter never sheltered her,just that she heard from her mother and brother(oh yeah Plutus is in this au their twins) about the shit that happened up their(even saw it for herself a few times)and decided to nope out of that drama.

She likes the underworld a more than Olympus due to the fact people don’t get butthurt nearly as much,due to them needing to deal with crap from other gods and sometimes mortals(like Sisyphus)

Demeter was an amazing mama and nobody can convince me otherwise.

Plutus told her about the underworld so she does know a bit,but otherwise it’s a cultural shock.

She brings homemade baklava in every day of work.

She actually sent a letter to Demeter telling her about the community service…however she never got it thanks to a certain daughter of Nyx always dead set on causing discord.

Hades:

It took him two solid seconds to realize what Zeus’ plan was with Persephone so he initially looked for any reason to fire her,until he learned she was here for community service and just decided to wait out her punishment(jokes on him Zeus forgot to tell perse what her sentence was so she worked in the underworld for like a year until demeter found her when in reality she was supposed to be there for like two months)

He does eventually soften up to her(obviously) but it takes a while and a lot of baklava.

Honest to god I have no idea how to incorporate minthe in this au

Leuce is his dead wife,she died fairly recently so he’s still hesitant to connect with anyone.(“I miss my wife,Thanatos,I miss her a lot I’ll be back-“)

Recently he’s been coping via sinking into his work,Hecate and the others have taken notice but they don’t really know what to do.(their the ones that CAUSE death not deal with it)

He slowly started distancing himself from the rest of his family after the titanomachy and even more so after leuce died.

The only person he acts openly soft around is Thanatos,who he views as a son.

The only part of his extended family he interacts with is Hermes,who he actually has a really good relationship with(albeit still strained since leuce)

Fuck it.everyone has flowers symbolism.

Hades is white lilies(subject to change),perse is asphodels,thanatos(and Hypnos) is poppies,leuce is forget-me-nots,Demeter is daylilies,Plutus is orchids,Hecate is nightshades or cow parsley.

Thanatos:

He genuinely finds it hard to focus on doing his job,so people just call him lazy,so he doesn’t really try to set the bar high in return because he knows he’ll just end up disappointing everyone.

The only person who doesn’t have low expectations and wants him to try his best at his own rate is hades,who understands he finds it hard to focus but still wants him to try his best anyways.

Rotates between living with hades and Nyx(who is an extremely doting mother.

Hypnos still resides within the hr department and Thanatos helps him hide because the last thing he needs is a grumpy Hypnos.

He deals with peaceful deaths while Hermes and the keres deal with the rest.

He’s the type of person to tell himself one moment he’s gonna be really productive today and then spend the next fifteen minutes chatting away with a butterfly.

Also he can talk to butterflies.but nobody believes him except Hermes,perse,and Nyx.

The moment he finds out what Eris did she gets the “WHY WOULD YOU THINK THIS IS A GOOD IDEA?!?!!?” Of her life.then queue Thanatos and the other Nyx children present trying to get her to explain why she thought this was a good idea and her just saying “bc it’s funny”

Erebus = dad with no physical body who still interact with me via shadows.hades = dad with physical body who I want to impress but I don’t know how.

(If you didn’t catch on he has adhd)

#lore olympus thanatos #lore olympus critical #lo criticism #lo critical #anti lore olympus #anti lo #lore olympus #lore olympus persephone #lore olympus hades #lore olympus rewrite #leuce #Persie’s little punishment #lore olympus au #nyx

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averagetmntfan · 4 months

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it’s crazy that 2023 is almost to an end! Another year that just flew by!

I’ll be honest, I was desperate to post my art somewhere. It’s been kinda a rough couple of years for me. And recently.

I was extremely sad last year. Around this time, actually. Let me paint a picture.

Last year, I switched schools. Which I guess doesn’t sound like a big deal, but it was to me. My whole life was at my other school. My friends. They were the best. As u can probably imagine, I starting at a brand new school is hard. Especially when everyone already knows eachother. This might come as a shocker, but I’m kinda Anti-social when it comes to ppl around my age. (Especially cuz ppl my age are such bitches Lmao) for the longest time, I coped using discord And tik tok. I Even made my own little group. But ofc, that had to come to an end too. after that, I was sad again. For the longest time I had all these ideas, but no one to really share them with.

(cuz none of my irl friends like nor watched tmnt) and recently I ended a friendship w/ someone. We were both in the wrong, I’ll admit. I did say somethings behind her back. Nothing too bad. But it did call her a hypocrite. Because she would always complain about our other friends leaving to hang out w/ other ppl. When she does the exact same thing. And I was alone. Alone at lunch. Just sitting there. She would treat me so..rudely. Just plain rude. I asked her a question (Idk what is was exactly) and she responded with such a rude response. And that was on fucking Halloween. (Which I was sick on) so that’s when the entire friendship fell to shit.

Since then I’ve been hanging out by myself in the library (well, the times it’s open anyway) so u can probably imagine how I feel. Then one day, it all changed. I discover this wonder escape. Tumblr. I signed up and made this acc. And I met such amazing ppl on it.

@allyheart707: has given me good advice on my little comic series, genially super nice, fun to chat w/. I think I’ve been mutuals w/ her for the longest.

@ghosty-0w0: very silly, I have so much fun doing art collabs w/ you!! Again, very nice and thoughtful. Mutuals for a bit but it feels longer!!

@mikey-rottmnt: the ultimate silly, whiteboard was to much fun (I’m gonna try and make another board for us lol), I have no idea how we became mutuals lmao. Very fun to chat w, always open to listen, caring and sweet. I enjoy having conversations w/ u!

@c00kietin: I had a lot of fun drawing u!!!, Irish gang 🍀☘️, that one time I didn’t get sleep was chaotic, very chill, a local amphibia fan!! I wanna talk more w/ u, cuz ur js so cool!!

I Hope y’all have an amazing new year! May the year bring u luck, kindness, adventures (hopefully) not artblock, and alot of ideas!! (Not that anyone of u need them, cuz ur so creative!!)

and dw..Hehe..I will make u all suffer w/ ANGST ANGST AND…fluff. JK MORE ANGST >:))

(no but real talk I will not js do all Angst I swear—)

I APOLOGIZE FOR THE OTHER MUTUALS THAT IK AND ARENT ON HERE, ITS CUX I FORGOT UR TAGS!!!

#<3 #jj rambles #jj rants #Jj…vents??#Happy new year!#2024 :0

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caramelstarlight · 11 months

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Tysm!❤️

I realized I have reached 300+ notes! Tysm for those following me and appreciating my posts. Dw! I’ll be finishing that one dragon cookies request I have. It’s almost finished!(if your that person who requested it)

As you can tell, I ADORE and am OBSESSED with Tighnari from Genshin! <3 (No joke, 40% of my time is Devoted to this man alone.)

So… I’ll give you a little Spoiler for “Two Words, One Heart.” My Tighnari X Kitsune Reader.(Again, TYSM Etheries for helping me think of the titles and names for certain chapters Eeee!!)

(Tysm to fallingdownhell as well (didn’t mean to rhyme Woah) as they may work on this too! If they do I may link it onto “Two Worlds One Heart” Masterlist with their permission.)

(If you want to help me with this story, LMK! You’ll be added to my Discord Server if you have discord. Sorry if i haven’t asked you if you wanted to join the discord!)

My works are only on wattpad and tumblr, if you see any reposts that’s not on tumblr please report it as they most likely didn’t get my okay to do so.

Spoilers under the cut <3

This story will have 5 endings! Yes you heard me right. 5 whole endings. The story may focus on the most logical ending but don’t worry. There will be hints of other endings.

I’m in the works of chapter 1 as I finished the Prolouge! Please go check it out! 1,500+ words.

Chapter 1: “Trip to Liyue”

*Timeskip*

“Why is Beidou keen on drinking right now?” You asked as you both watched her down a bit of wine. “She can drink a lot as much as she wishes. But to be telling the truth I didn’t expect her to do so currently.” Kazuha replied before looking back towards the sea. “Anyways, what do you do on these trips Kazuha? I rarely see you off this ship or you’re in liyue.” You asked curious of the man’s ways to past time.“Well I usually make poems in my spare time. Sometimes I’m playing the leaf, do you think I should add more ways to deal with time?” He asked, waiting for your input. Facing your direction.“Well I-I umm.” You said as you thought of a way to phrase what’d you’d try to say towards the Kaedehara. “Let me put it like this. What else do you find Fun that I might find fun? I know we both have a fondness for reading as you make poems while I help publish books.” “Well maybe we can do something that you find interesting.” He suggested putting one hand on his hip as he watched your tail swish slowly.”Oh! I know. What about Genius-Invokation TCG!” You said using a finger to show you remembered.

(Like faruzan is always doing. I swear if you thought of us flipping him off I would never.)

“What’s Genius-Invokation TCG?” He asked, one hand on his chin as he tried to reminisce about hearing it, to no avail he couldn’t.”It’s a card game! I could teach you how to play. You can borrow one of my decks. I’m sure you heard beidou and the crew talk about it. Right?” You asked, your direction of view going towards the captain for a brief moment.

She seemed to be dueling someone at the moment. “you see those two? They’re both playing it. We can go watch their match real quick and then I can show you how to play. It’s super exciting to watch! The tables can turn at any moment!” You said, turning your view back to him. Letting them process what you had told.

“I’ll admit you do have good taste Y/N, it does look fun and enjoyable from here, seeing the expression of both of them they seem to be enjoying it.” The Kaedehara stated considering the offer.

“Alright I’ll watch with you. I admit I’m very curious of new things and this is new.” He said as you both went up the stairs watching the duel play out.

Alright! I think I may have did too much of a spoiler… so I’m ending it here! <3

#genshin tighnari #sumeru #dendro #tighnari fluff #tighnari #tighnari x female reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #tighnari x reader #tighnari x male reader #tighnari x you #tighnari x y/n #tighnari x yn #Kazuha #beidou

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findroleplay · 3 months

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🔱 hi pals! currently have brainrot for the percy jackson and the olympians (pjo) series again. read it for the first time as a tween, now rereading it and watching the show as it comes out! i really have such an undying love for it and for these characters, so i’m hoping to find someone who feels the same and i’d love to write my percy jackson against an annabeth chase.

i’m eli, i am 26, she/her and on gmt-3 timezone! my happy spot is writing somewhere between 400-700+ words and i’m happy to go even longer, but i don’t love to do shorter. no one-liners, i like to have a good chunk of introspection going at all times, so i’d consider myself adv. lit. and i hope to find partners who are the same! activity wise, i really don’t mind taking a couple days or a couple weeks between replies, very chill with long hiatuses too, as long as we keep ooc communication open. i’d love to find someone to nerd out with about the show ooc anyway! currently my twitter feed and tiktok fyp are all about pjo so i have too many posts to share hehe

this is a request for 21+ writers, and the muses will preferably be 21+ as well. bonus points for anyone who’s also a pinterest and playlist fiend (i’m only the former, but i will share with u every hozier song known to man). i love using fcs, real people fcs only, i prefer actors and i’d love to eventually recast the whole gang (as they are older here than in the show), if we vibe with that. if it doesn't go without saying, i'll say it: zero tolerance for whitewashed annabeths. i don’t have plots in mind, but i’d be open to hear if you have any crazy whacky AUs you wanna play out, i love a good AU. or we can rewrite the original series’ plot points with the older chars, who knows, we can figure it out! disclaimer: i have only read the original pjo series and not the hoo series, which i am quickly on my way to remedy, i’m gonna read it as soon as i’m through with the originals! i have spoilers to the percabeth moments in there so i kinda know what goes on anyway, and if you just give me a couple weeks i’ll be caught up, i swear lskdjldfj

this will be written on a private discord server! you can contact me @ pacawrites on discord (preferred!) or like this post and i’ll get to you. thank you!

#rp #roleplay #percy jackson and the olympians rp #pjo rp

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birdofdawning · 10 months

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Sleepovers

Chapter 4

This is a vaguely ongoing and extremely self-indulgent exercise that has no real plot, only a few scenes I want to do (but haven’t yet done) and an ending (also not done). This is probably the most self-indulgent chapter so far. But I got to read a lot of mid-20th Century science fiction for it and that was often fun.

Here is the previous chapter, which is much shorter - and frankly, better - and here is the beginning, when it was just a fun idea from the discord server.

The next day Myka realises that she is on holiday, and begins to relax.

She returns from her run with coffee and a bran muffin to find Helena dressed smartly in a suit and tie and with her hair up; she’s tearing about trying to gather what she needs for the day. Myka raises the cups she’s holding. “I brought you a coffee,” she says brightly.

Helena gives her a look that Myka feels is a little unwarranted. “I am looking for my keys,” she says darkly, as if she is pronouncing a doom on a wicked city. Myka remembers that non-scheming Helena has never been much of a morning person.

Putting down the cups on the kitchen counter, Myka digs into her pocket and holds up the keys, jingling them in front of her friend’s face in a cheerful fashion.

Helena narrows her eyes. “I meant spare keys. A spare key,” she lies, “so you can come and go.”

“Okay.” Myka takes her own coffee and clears space on a rather worn armchair. Helena continues to pull drawers out and look under piles of debris, swearing under her breath in Nineteenth Century. Myka sits quietly and watches with deliberate interest, knowing how irritating Helena will find this. She does not point out how much easier it would be if Helena kept her apartment tidy, and she knows Helena is very aware of her not pointing it out.

Emptying out coins, circuit boards, and tape from a fedora, Helena sniffs and says “I hope you’re going to bathe soon.”

“Sure. But I don’t want my coffee to get cold.” Myka takes a performative sip, and then, just to see what happens, adds “Oh hey, isn’t your breakfast meeting soon?” She hides behind her cup at the glare she receives.

Helena picks up the set of keys and begins pulling one off savagely. “Take this. I’ll pick the lock.”

“You keep it,” argues Myka, “I’ll pick the lock.”

Helena considers this and then nods. “It’s not a particularly tricky one,” she says, “so I suppose you might manage it if you’re sober.” She puts her keys away and begins putting papers in a satchel.

“Although you are the official occupier,” muses Myka, who has discovered that she is in an uncharacteristically impish mood. “Perhaps it might be better if you picked the lock, in case someone got worried and called the police. And I’ll take the key.”

Helena shoulders her bag. “I am leaving now,” she says, “before I say or do something inhospitable.”

“Oh no, wait! I’m sorry!” Myka stands up and tries to look penitent. She steps over to Helena, straightening her tie and tucking it further down under her vest. “You have a good day at work today, dear. I’ll have the pot-roast ready when you get home.”

“The pot-roast,” repeats Helena.

“Not really, it’s a bit. Like we’re a married couple in the 1950s. And anyway you promised to take me to dinner tonight. Oh! Is it okay if I borrow some clothes? I need to do some laundry.” She glances down at her longer legs and wider hips. “Not pants, I guess, but a shirt?”

Helena pauses with her hand on the doorknob and looks her up and down with overt appraisal. “No, you have too much seat for my trousers. Frankly, I’m not sure if anything I have will fit you. You’ll probably find my shirts too tight. But you can look and see.”

Myka grins. “Thank-you, Helena.”

Her host gives a small bow and departs.

And then returns, picks up the other coffee, bestows another baleful glare upon her guest, and leaves again.

By midday Myka is feeling ready for lunch. She’s had a lovely morning curled up on the couch with the sun coming in through the tall bay windows, going through the precarious towers of Helena’s books. Aside from large non-fiction hardbacks on practically every topic under the sun, her host seems to enjoy reading mysteries and various Twentieth Century classics (she suspects that Helena has discovered high school reading lists on the internet).

But the bulk of the collection are tattered science fiction paperbacks and magazines. There are tottering piles of Azimov and Le Guin and Blish and Vonnegut. Paper cities of Analogues and Novas and Nebulas and Penguin’s Best Science Fiction, many now being used as improvised coffee tables. The more fantastic authors, Zelazny and Burroughs and Tanith Lee, are piled up by the door, as if Helena is uncertain about having them in the house.

And to Myka’s absolute delight she has discovered that Helena heavily annotates her books as she reads. And that she is not inclined to be magnanimous toward her fellow authors. Gleefully Myka flips through books to find her friend’s one-sided arguments with her literary heirs.

‘Is every character here secretly a banker’s clerk?’ she has pencilled into Rendezvous With Rama, ‘or do they just act like it for fun?’

In Brave New World, she writes ‘Yes I take your point, but I still feel rather ill.’ In Huxley’s later novel Island she adds ‘It’s a bit too late to come over all priggish now my boy!’

To young Heinlein: ‘I understand you are writing for children, but need you really be writing for children?’ To older Heinlein: ‘Perhaps you should go back to writing for children.’

‘Yes yes’, she snaps at Ray Bradbury, ‘I'm sure your boyhood was idyllic; but could we get to the IDEAS please?’

Myka decides to see what H.G. Wells thinks of Franz Leiber over lunch.

Throwing her coat over the largest of Helena’s shirts Myka pockets the Leiber and leaves the apartment, manipulating the tumblers to lock the door behind her. She wanders downhill into a district filled with thrift shops, small restaurants, and bustle. The streets of San Francisco are busy with pedestrians and trolleys and bicycles, and for the first time in years, or so it feels, she isn’t in any particular hurry. She tilts her head to feel the late summer sun on her face and smiles. A cellist is playing Dvořák’s Cello Concerto in B minor, and then shifts seamlessly into The Cure’s Close To Me, and Myka lingers and listens to two more pieces before putting a large note in the hat and moving on.

She goes into a cluttered used bookstore, half thinking that she might find something she once loved that she can leave at Helena’s. But after two minutes she realises that, as usual, she’s critiquing the lack of display shelves and the table of unalphabetised ‘Just In!’s taking up the centre of the store instead of looking through the stock. And that she still thinks of books in a store as ‘stock’.

Instead she goes into a nearby not-quite-boutique clothes store and finds a pair of jeans that she doesn’t hate. On her way to the check-out she automatically reaches to grab some black t-shirts in her size. Then she pauses. She is on holiday, and besides she’s feeling happier than she has in... a long time. She chooses a green t-shirt and a red one and marches to the counter. Maybe she’ll stop by a drug store and get some hair-dye too.

A woman is at the counter asking the assistant about the store’s club card and Myka stands behind her absently staring out the window at the people passing. After a moment she feels herself being watched and she looks down. On the other side of the woman is a stroller from which a solemn looking toddler is regarding her, one hand in its mouth. When it sees that it has her attention it removes its hand and says “Abah. MAH!”

The woman glances down, and then over her shoulder at Myka. “Oh!” she says, “Yes, it’s a lady.” She smiles at Myka. “You’ve made a friend.”

“Apparently so,” agrees Myka, politely.

Then the woman gets that same look Myka has begun to recognise over the last six months. “You’ll be ready for one of your own soon, I expect!” she says smilingly. Then she blinks twice, looks a little blank, and turns back to the assistant. Myka sighs internally.

Her clothes bought, she wanders down to a Portuguese restaurant and orders lunch for one. While she waits she steels herself and turns her phone on. Immediately it starts buzzing with notifications. There’s a very long one from Artie that radiates annoyance and grievance, but begrudgingly allows her a few days of leave; seven increasingly worried messages from Pete, along with a photo of a foot-long sandwich he bought in Florida; one check-in from Abigail, followed by a blow-by-blow account of a conversation she witnessed between Pete and Steve about Pete’s sandwich; and fifteen questions from Claudia, including What is H.G. working on? Did H.G. ask what Claudia was working on? What does H.G’s place look like? and Has H.G. changed her hair?

Helena herself has sent three messages:

im at work pick me up at 4

do NOT tidy

im serious myka

She thanks Artie, tells Pete she’ll be back soon, and reassures Claudia that H.G’s hair still is the same. Then she turns her phone off again. It feels good. She’s on holiday. No need to worry.

She eats her piri-piri chicken and reads Our Lady of Darkness along with past Helena and her furious pencil.

At 3:20pm she catches a bus to the Mission District and retraces her way to Helena’s work. It’s in a small building on a side street, shared with a real estate office.

The same girl at the front desk — the only employee she’d seen the previous afternoon — looks up from her phone as Myka lets herself in off the street. “Hi,” says Myka, “Remember me? Helena’s friend?” The girl stares at her, impassive. “From yesterday?” adds Myka, hopefully.

It’s an open-plan office, and she now has the attention of the other people working there. “Oh, you’re a friend of Hel?” says one of them with an entirely unconvincing casualness. She’s a tiny woman with wild black hair.

“I am,” says Myka.

“Right, right, cool,” says the woman. Myka nods politely and the woman says “Cool” again.

Myka glances back at the reception girl, eyebrows up.

“Casey thinks Hel is a secret agent,” the girl explains, picking up her phone again.

“WHAT?” says Casey far too brightly, “Haha no that’s, that’s crazy… those were just jokes! jokes that we… god, did you think we were serious when we making all those… those jokes…” She suddenly turns on Myka. “But seriously, is she though?”

“Is who what?” says Myka, startled.

Casey speaks rapidly. “A secret agent. Formerly. Like, one who was in deep cover for years, somewhere remote. Or in prison? So she didn’t know about the Suez Crisis and Madonna and Watergate and the Ninja Turtles?”

“We told her about the Ninja Turtles!” says Myka, outraged. Everyone is looking at her. “By which I mean... What has she told you about herself?” she says more carefully.

“‘She is from England and they don’t have that there’,” Casey and the girl say in unison.

“Oh,” says Myka.

A rather boyish person at the back of the room rolls their chair a little closer. “She’s obviously been away somewhere. There’s too much stuff she doesn’t know about the world. Though she’s very quick,” they admit, “The next time whatever it is comes up she knows all about it. My guess was some sort of witness protection program”

“Jonny, she’s British!” objects Casey.

Jonny shrugs. “So? What was Ben’s idea again?”

“‘Amnesic, but too embarrassed to admit it’,” says the girl to her phone. “I think she was trapped in a cult. Like, a sciencey one.”

“A ‘sciencey cult’?” repeats Casey dubiously.

“Yeah, where she wasn’t allowed to see the outside world or whatever. And had to be gross with the cult leader.” The girl considers for a moment. “Unless Hel was the leader?”

Jonny snorts. “Well, that’s better than ‘Interloper from alternate Earth that doesn’t have a Eurovision Song Contest’”

“Oh yeah!” says the girl looking up. “That was a good one. Who said that?”

“You did.” Casey frowns at both of them. “I can’t help but feel that no-one else is taking this seriously.”

Myka has decided to pretend none of this is happening. “So... Can I see her? Helena?”

“Oh, yeah. HEL!” shouts the girl.

“Do you all call her Hel?”

“Yes. Why, is that not her name?” asks Casey spinning around and looking at Myka hungrily.

“No, no, it’s really her name!”

Jonny stands up “She’ll be out the back. I’ll show you the way,” they offer.

Instead of taking her up to the upstairs offices like yesterday, Jonny leads her out to a large shed behind the building. Brahms, she thinks, is playing somewhere. Jonny knocks once on the door and opens it. “Hel? Friend of yours is here?”

“Show her in, thank-you Jonny,” Helena’s voice sounds a little distracted, and Jonny rolls their eyes and preforms an elaborate bow, gesturing for Myka to step through the doorway.

If she had thought Helena’s apartment was cluttered it’s nothing to this space. There are mismatched workbenches and shelves crowding every wall, some extending out into the centre of the room and almost blocking the aisles. Machine components, wiring, and tools are scattered everywhere, but Myka’s eyes are drawn to the numerous metallic cylinders of various sizes and designs that sit completed or in segments all about her. Many hold delicate latticed coils of some brassy metal. An old radio in the corner is playing the Brahms.

“I’m glad I don’t have to do the Health and Safety audit on this place,” she says.

“You are an untruther,” says Helena’s head, appearing above a large cylinder, “even now your soul crys out: ‘Myka!’ it urges ‘take up thy clipboard and pen and make a concise and detailed plan of what Helena needs to tidy up!’”

“A little bit,” admits Myka, glancing behind her. Jonny has returned to the main building so she shuts the door behind her. “I’ve just met your Greek chorus. I felt like I was the earnest young ingenue suddenly surrounded by comic peasants in a Shakespeare play. That bit where they come in and start talking about things that don’t seem to have anything to do with any other thing that’s been said before; and the heroine just goes along with it until they leave.”

“Aren’t you getting a little old to be the ingénue?” says Helena cruelly, vanishing back behind her cylinder.

“Look who’s talking.”

Helena huffs. “I was never an ingénue even when I was young. So there.”

“No, you would have been the young pretty witch. Or a fairy. Or Circe.” On the back of the door someone has pinned a large list of handwritten WORKSHOP RULES.

“Was Circe ever in a Shakespeare play?” says Helena absently, obviously concentrating on something else, “I didn’t think so, but I was never really that interested in the man. I saw the occasional performance with friends, but most of my knowledge of his work comes from reading children’s magazines.”

“No, he never did the Odyssey. How would he have staged it? He probably would have focused on Penelope and Telemachus and the homecoming. Helena, every one of the ‘DON’TS’ written on this list has ‘HELENA exclamation mark’ added to it in red marker pen. Or almost every one.”

“That’s because she hasn’t broken all of them yet,” says a voice from further down the shed.

“I have been doing this since long before you were born, my lad,” says Helena, focused, “And who knows? Perhaps I will be doing it long after you’re dead.”

“That’s what concerns me,” says the voice.

Myka bends down to examine one of the cylinders. “What is all this? What are you actually doing here? Something about power storage, right?”

Helena throws down a tool and stands up, straightening her vest. “Myka,” she says, putting her hand in her pockets and rocking on her feet as she prepares to lecture, “Did you know that the world is still using chemical batteries for all its electrical storage needs? It’s either that or direct power transmission. No-one has come up with a more efficient solution since 1859. Oh, they’ve certainly improved the technology,” she waves a hand at Myka as if she had been about to object to the premise, “but the idea is still the same. It’s inefficient and highly destructive to the planet. We need to be investigating alternatives.”

“So that’s what all this is?” Myka looks around at the various cylinders again.

Helena’s eyes are gleaming. “This is my particular project,” she says.

“This sounds like it may be getting a little proprietary,” says the voice.

“Oh, pooh!” says Helena. “Myka’s my dearest friend in all the world,” and Myka tries to stifle the big goofy grin that wants to spread over her face and continue looking serious.

“I just thought I’d better mention the fact,” says the voice.

Helena strides out from her workbench and stands beside Myka, looking down at the nearest cylinder. She still has her hair pinned back and her shirt-sleeves are rolled up and Myka thinks she looks very… capable.

“Have you ever had a horse pass close to you?” Helena begins, irrelevantly.

“I have.”

“And you can feel it, can’t you, even though it doesn’t touch you? The faint movement of the displaced air, the vibrations through the ground. The sound.”

Myka nods.

“Everything leaves a disturbance in its wake, merely through possessing substance. And this disturbance is energy. And the larger the mass of the object, the more disturbance. The more energy. Yes?”

“Okay.”

Helena leans forward, holding Myka’s gaze. “And how much disturbance is thrown about by the presence of the universe itself? The sheer weight of all existence?”

Myka considers. “But… we know this, don’t we? This is just physics. The transference of energy.”

“Yes,” says the voice from further up the shed.

“No,” says Helena. “I’m not talking about energy being transformed from chemical to kinetic to potential and so-on. I mean that the mere fact of the universe Being is so immense that it casts a shadow on reality. Like a monstrous fish gliding beneath your rowboat. It leaves eddies in its wake.”

“But… where is its wake if the universe is all there is? Or are we getting into… I don’t know, alternate universes here? What does the universe cast its shadow on?”

“Upon itself,” says Helena as if this is obvious. “Or, if you like, a sort of under-verse beneath our own. The servant’s quarters of the universe. The furnace room. It’s not actually beneath though,” she explains kindly. “That’s a metaphor.”

Myka thinks back to her science fiction. “Subspace?”

“Yes,” says the voice.

Helena shrugs magnanimously. “If you like. I don’t really care for the word, it seems to make everyone here giggle like school girls. But I do not insist.”

“Okay,” Myka, trying to follow. “Okay. So what then? You find this ‘under-verse’?”

Helena smiles, like a conjuror about to perform her trick. “Ah! But it is already found!” She steps away and rips some papers down from the wall where they had been pinned, and making Myka wince. “Look!”

It is a table of figures with a graph showing constant fluctuations in whatever it is measuring. “What am I looking at here?”

“These,” says a sly Helena, “are the oscillations of an infinitesimal energy field. In a vacuum. What is causing it?”

“You discovered this?”

“No, that would be Max Planck,” says the voice.

“Wait,” says Myka.

“Hel, you know this is zero-point energy. It’s just quantum mechanics, and you sound like a crazy person when you talk like this.”

“Oh, quantum mechanics,” says Helena nastily, “Oh yes, ‘science is getting too hard and we can’t be bothered anymore, we won’t keep investigating, let’s just make it all up from now on!’”

The voice begins to object “That’s not—"

“Myka, have you come across this nonsense?” says Helena, ignoring it. “‘Quantum mechanics’, they call it. It’s ever so easy: every time you get a result you can’t explain you simply just invent a new law and then the company removes to the nearest public house to celebrate.”

“Helena…”— Myka feels a little awkward — “I mean, I’m no scientist but I know quantum mechanics has been a pretty important part of physics for over a century.”

“Oh, but of course, because if you only squint hard enough the natural laws of the universe don’t apply anymore!”

And the sheer gall, the bold-faced disingenuousness of this jab considering what the two of them have experienced, makes Myka’s jaw drop in astonishment.

Helena seems to catch herself too. “Well. Anyway. The cylinders work, don’t they, Ben?” she calls over her shoulder.

“They do seem to work,” admits the voice reluctantly.

Myka sighs. “Work how?” she asks. “Wait.” She looks back at the coils in their cylinders. “Are you syphoning off the, uh, zero-point energy?”

Helena and the voice laugh. “Myka,” says Helena — perhaps a little condescendingly — “We’re talking about almost immeasurably small amounts of energy. It’s only enough to nudge a few particles.”

“Oh, but you believe in the particles,” the voice scoffs.

“That’s just chemistry.” Helena waves the remark away. “That’s just how things are made.”

Myka looks about at the cluttered workshop with all its debris. “You know, if this was one of— if this was a scientific romance the scientist would be building a vehicle to carry him down into the Under-verse, where he would see all sorts of weird stuff. And come back only once to tell his friends about it, and then disappear back into it, never be seen again.”

Helena frowns. “This isn’t like dropping to the sea floor in a capsule, Myka. What you’re proposing would be more akin to devising a manner to physically enter the world of… radio waves perhaps. You couldn’t just visit the land of radio waves and walk about.”

“You can,” disagrees the voice, “We are. Right now. They’re all around us.”

Helena rolls her eyes. “However. What these are for—” she gestures at the cylinders “— is to tether a zero-point energy field. Because…” and here she gets that look of manic glee again: “Myka, we can energise it!”

Myka thinks this through. “Okay. So. You can… add more energy to the field… Oh!”

Further down the shed a large man rolls his chair out into the aisle and points at Myka. “You’re getting it!” he says.

“Yes!” says Helena, “We use these coils to tether a field within the cylinders, then syphon power into it, increasing the field’s total volume of energy. It takes a little of that energy to keep the field tethered, so there’s always some loss (I’m working on that), but meanwhile…” she walks over to a finished cylinder and clamps two jumper cables to bolts on its top. “Meanwhile we have a reservoir of power sitting around waiting to be used.” She pulls a lever. All around them hanging strings of Christmas tree lights that had been obscured by papers and shelves of apparatus light up the room with a rainbow of cheerful colours. Helena does a graceful half turn, presenting all this to Myka with an enigmatic smile and outstretched hands, like a stage magician. “Et voilà!”

Taking her cue, Myka claps enthusiastically and Helena’s grandstanding demeanour is belied by a faint blush to her cheeks. “Yes, well,” she says, dropping her arms. “It’s still very much a work in progress. It doesn’t take much to power a few lightbulbs. But we shall see. Anyway, that’s what I have been working on.”

The man in the chair points behind Myka. “See that radio? It’s been switched on, playing entirely off a cylinder for going on five months now.”

Myka turns to stare at the radio, which is playing Joaquín Rodrigo now. “The cylinders don’t, I don’t know, get hot or something? Lose energy that way?”

“No,” says the man. “The field seems to be… well, in its own closed system or something.”

“In the Under-verse,” says Helena.

“It’s very irritating,” agrees the man. He rubs his temples. “See, I hate that we don’t know! We should be working this all out before we start playing with it!”

“We work it out by playing with it!” argues Helena, and Myka can tell that this is a regular dispute.

The man pulls at his hair. “You are so irritatingly analogue! How do we even work together?!”

And Helena flashes him a broad smile, her real smile, the one that makes her look like a slightly manic child. “Really rather well, my darling,” she says, “that’s why we’ve still got investors,” and he groans.

Myka reaches out and squeezes Helena’s hand. “Well, I think you’re a bit wonderful.”

“Yes, I am, aren’t I?” says Helena, “But I believe I promised to take you out to dinner. Let me get my coat.”

“I never get taken to dinner,” complains the man.

“Well, Myka’s a bit wonderful too.” Helena throws her coat over one arm and takes Myka’s elbow with the other. “Good evening, Ben. See you tomorrow.” Ben gives them a little wave and they step out into the dusk.

#Sleepovers #myka bering #helena wells #warehouse 13 #fanfic #Helena only stopped referring to zero-point energy as the luminiferous ether a month ago

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rowanisawriter · 12 days

Note

Writers truth or dare: 🌵🦷🥐

hi babe thank you!!!

ask game here!

🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you love

i’ll just leave the entire hozier unreal unearth album here……..

🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

maybe a writing hack because i don’t have actual wisdom to share LOL but for writing, especially fic, i’ll say write whatever you want, i mean literally open a blank page and let the words write themselves like you’re just a conduit. you’ll be surprised what comes out and how people respond to it, because that is GENUINE stuff, the stuff you can’t hold back or control, the stuff that just comes out on its own, and people love when writing is genuine. this is hard but true lol

also just a general life hack but wear sunscreen every single day even when it’s cloudy because the sun is evil and wrecks your complexion and also gives you cancer, i have serious sensory issues when it comes to my face and swear by beauty of joseon sunscreen, it’s a little pricey but melts into your skin like moisturizer and feels like nothing at all!!!!!

🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh

any spongebob image used as a reaction. real ones will remember my pfp here used to be patrick and my discord and ao3 pfps are still a spongebob fish lol i think they’re so funny here’s one from my phone i just have this saved i guess

#ask games #thanks bestie!

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lightconduit-2501 · 10 months

Text

introducing: traceBack

something’s been in the works for a little while now, and i’d thought that i’d sneak a little peek into what’s been happening. i’ve worked out the basics, but i’ll need some time to put it into motion.

thanks to all the lovely people here and on the infamous discord (you ALL know who you are), i’ve gotten real inspired to write a lil story (more like, a sequence of thoughts and events) with my character childe, and how they progress in the world around them.

childe is a very beloved character of mine who’s been sitting in my head for around three-ish years now (i’d like to think they helped with my coding assignments in first year uni - they were featured in one, after all!!)

please keep in mind that i am still a VERY newbie writer; expect chapters to be very small (like, very.... this is what happens with me....) but they might get longer as i progress. also a note; the story is HEAVILY tied into the events post ghost in the shell 1995. there will be infamous!!!! i promise!!!!!!

Without further ado, let’s get into the fun stuff, shall we?

throughout the story, you’ll be interacting with a terminal window, keep a keen eye on it, it’ll have some interesting things in it. if you choose to reblog, maybe try some terminal commands out if you know some? who knows what they’ll yield! (no rm -rf I SWEAR 😤)

i love you all, and it’ll be a while till i’m truely free from the hell that is uni, but i promise to make things at least a little bit interesting !! :D

see yall on the flipside;

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canonrpfinder · 3 months

Note

this will be written on a private discord server! you can contact me @ pacawrites on discord (preferred!) or like this post and i’ll get to you. thank you!

✒

#roleplay #rp #percy jackson #pjo #21+ age range #discord rp

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roleplayfinder · 4 months

Note

this will be written on a private discord server! you can contact me @ pacawrites on discord (preferred!) or like this post and i’ll get to you. thank you!

pacawrites

#twenty-one and over #gmt-3 #pjo #pjo roleplay #pjo rp

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darkdoverpseeker · 4 months

Note

this will be written on a private discord server! you can contact me @ pacawrites on discord and we can talk more. thank you!

reach out if interested !

#percy jackson and the olympians rp #cc x cc #m x f #1x1 rp #21+#irl fcs #discord rp #discord roleplay #rp #roleplay

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prpfs · 4 months

Note

this will be written on a private discord server! you can contact me @ pacawrites on discord (preferred!) or like this post and i’ll get to you. thank you!

discord: pacawrites

#pjo rp #percy jackson rp #percy jackson roleplay #fandom rp #fandom roleplay #21+ rp

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once-upon-a-pirate-ship · 11 months

Text

Emma Swan versus Packing Tape

read my new (short) college au on AO3 here!

or, read it below the cut.

summary: As Emma and the gang near the end of their senior year, her roommate Ruby pushes her towards one last setup (you know exactly who it is)

rated T for language only

1.5k words

you can find my other works on AO3 here.

to people who want to be on my tag list: I'm so sorry but I don't yet have the energy to rejoin the discord and make that list and tack it on here...please forgive me and I'll work on that for next time

Packing tape was quickly becoming Emma’s nemesis. No matter how many angles she tried, she couldn’t get the stupid metal teeth to slice the tape correctly, and every attempt was met with the irritated screech of the roll.

A groan escaped her lips as she was once again forced to surrender to the scissors, and after flattening the piece against the cardboard, she dropped the tape gun onto the floor. It made a dull thud when it landed on the shitty carpet she still had to clean.

“Geez, what’d that tape ever do to you?” Ruby asked.

Emma flinched at the unexpected noise, turning to find her roommate staring at her teasingly, her arms folded over her chest and her eyebrows raised.

“I thought you were at Belle’s,” Emma said as she returned her attention to the now closed box, moving it onto the stack to her right.

“I’m happy to see you, too.”

Emma rolled her eyes, suppressing a sigh and instead bending to pick up the stupid tape gun. “I’ve just got a lot left to do,” she said, glancing around to find the next box that needed to be filled and taped up.

“Three boxes, Emma. That’s, like, fifteen minutes. Tops.”

“I have reorganizing to do, Ruby,” Emma replied.

Ruby crossed to sit on the arm of the couch. “I don’t see why you can’t come to the party with us.”

“Oh yeah, that sounds like a blast. Third wheeling—until you two ditch me to go make out in some frat boy’s room.”

“We wouldn’t do that,” Ruby said. Emma shot her a glare, and Ruby added, “Again.”

“I’m good here, I promise. And besides, I was over the whole ‘college party’ scene like two months ago.”

Ruby released a heavy, dramatic sigh. “Come on, Emma. One last hoorah. David and Mary Margaret will be there, and I know they won’t ditch you to go make out.”

“No, they’ll just gaze wistfully at each other while I stand there feeling ill.”

“You say that like it’s a new development.”

Emma kept her eyes on the books she filed into the box, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “I’ll be just fine, Ruby. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“We graduate in two days, and then we’ll all be in different places doing different things—grad schools and internships and full-time jobs, and then I won’t have time to worry about you anymore. Let me be pushy and concerned this one last time.”

Emma paused, her fingertip grazing against the glossy book jacket of her favorite novel. Her eyes flickered up to Ruby. “What’s the real reason you’re pushing me on this?”

Ruby shrugged, but it wasn’t nearly as casual as it should’ve been.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Emma snarled. “Really? Again?”

“Emma,” she pleaded.

“No. No way. I told you last semester, Ruby. No more setups. No more perfectly engineered meet-cutes. I won’t allow it.”

“Last one, Emma, I swear. Then I’ll leave you to your singledom for the rest of eternity. Please?”

Emma glowered at her, though it did nothing to soften the intensity of the pleading eyes Ruby stared at her with. “No way.” She shook her head.

“Please?”

Emma’s jaw clenched, and she let her hand drop from the box. She forced her arms to lock over her chest. “No.”

“Please,” Ruby said firmly.

“What’s in it for me?”

“Other than the possibility of fantastic sex?”

Emma narrowed her eyes. “Ruby,” she snapped.

“Twenty bucks?”

“You’re so cheap.”

Ruby groaned. “I’m so broke right now, Emma. Fine, okay, I’ll get Belle to bake you those cookies you love so much.”

Emma despised herself for how much that made her pause. “Snickerdoodles?”

“Two batches.”

“Fine.”

“Really?”

Emma was going to get a headache if she kept glaring like this. “Ruby. Don’t push it.”

Her roommate jumped up, bouncing a little as a wide grin spread across her face. “Yes! Okay. I promise you won’t regret this. It’s gonna be so great. Really.”

“If it sucks, I’m still making you give me twenty bucks.”

“And when it’s magical, you can give me twenty bucks.”

Emma’s eyebrow shot up. “What makes you so confident about this one?”

Ruby shrugged. “I dunno. Just a feeling. I don’t actually know him that well. He’s a friend of Belle’s.”

Emma hummed with the slightest bit of interest, turning back to the box she’d stopped packing. “I gotta finish this if you want me to go out with you guys tonight.”

“Of course,” Ruby replied, slipping around the mini-maze of boxes and heading for the door.

“Oh, and Ruby?”

“Yeah?”

Emma didn’t look up when she added, “No way in hell are you picking my outfit for this thing. Don’t even try. Consider yourself lucky that I even agreed to go in the first place.”

“But you’re just gonna wear jeans and your red jacket!”

“I sure am. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

She couldn’t believe she let herself get dragged into this, cookies be damned.

She’d never been anti-party, per se, but she’d always been fairly anti-people—particularly when they were obnoxious frat boys who never seemed considerate of people’s personal space even when they weren’t completely drunk.

Ruby and Belle had made themselves scarce before the end of the first song, but as expected, David and Mary Margaret refused to abandon her, too.

“He’s late,” David grumbled, looking resentfully at his beer.

Mary Margaret gave him an admonishing look, a hand coming to pat his arm. “This is hardly a dinner date, David. I think we can cut him some slack for not being punctual to an event with a keg or three.”

David grumbled again, this time emitting a sound that sounded somewhat like “fine.”

Emma resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Look, guys, I don’t need a babysitter. Go, have fun.”

“Emma,” Mary Margaret said.

“We’re not leaving you,” David added, nearly scoffing at the idea.

Emma took a swig of her beer, knowing that further encouragement would be futile. It took her twenty minutes to give them the slip, which wasn’t her finest work but not her worst, either. She’d had a lot of practice these last few years.

The wrap-around porch was littered with cans and bottles, but at least it was relatively quiet, enough so that Emma could lean against the rail and relax for the first time that night. She reached up a hand to message at her stiff shoulder—from tensing for an hour straight or from packing all of those boxes, maybe both—and she huffed out a breath, willing her mind to settle.

Her irritation with her friends was so petty at this point in her life, with only a handful of days left before everything changed forever—who knew when they’d all get to see each other again, when jobs and money and time and life didn’t get in the way, but it was impossible for her to stamp out the frustration she felt because her friends didn’t always understand. They meant well, of course they did, but they were so reliant on their own worlds, their own experiences, so how could she possibly expect them to step outside of their own perspectives and imagine hers?

A not-so-subtle creak startled her from her thoughts, and she wheeled around to face the figure who’d been the culprit. “Sorry, love,” the accented voice called, “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Emma’s hand still gripped the porch railing as she watched him move closer somewhat hesitantly. Once he stepped out of the shadows and into the glow cast from the window, she watched him watch her, his gaze studying her, waiting for signs of rejection or any other indication that he shouldn’t cross to stand beside her.

“Is the party that bad?” he asked, a teasing smile curving his lips. “I’d planned to be here an hour ago, though perhaps the delay was a sign I should not have ignored.”

“The party is…” she trailed off, less than enthusiastic.

“A travesty?”

“Typical,” she amended.

He chuckled softly, his hand sweeping over the scruff on his chin. “A travesty, indeed,” he said. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have come.”

“Why did you?”

A dark eyebrow shot up, and she didn’t miss the glint in his stormy blue eyes. “I was meant to meet a lass.”

“A lass?” she repeated, wrinkling her nose.

“I’m British, love. We can hardly avoid the word.”

She almost snorted at that. “Love,” she echoed, like the word tasted bad on her tongue.

He huffed, almost exasperated but there was a fondness to it, like he loved a challenge and found her to be the most intriguing one. “What shall I call you, then?”

“Not love, that’s for sure.”

“A name?”

It clicked for her, then. She considered her reply, humming to herself. “I think you might know it already.”

His eyes glimmered with something unexpected. “Don’t tell me you’re—”

“Emma.”

A beat passed, and the air between them stretched taut, stealing breath and heartbeats and thoughts.

“Emma.” His voice caressed her name, his accent curling around it with warmth. He said it like he knew things about her that he couldn’t have known. “I’m Killian Jones. And I’m terribly sorry I’m late.” The tenderness hadn’t vanished entirely, but the charm had returned, and it made her feel steady again.

“I have a feeling that you’re going to figure out a way to make it up to me.”

#ouat fanfic #captain swan fanfiction #captain swan #once upon a time

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cloudslostlibrary · 2 years

Text

A new book has been found !

Book Title: Maybe You’re Not So Bad After All… Part Three

Characters: CC! Wilbur Soot, Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Summary: After your failed minecraft date, you agree to go on a real date with Wilbur.

TWs: Stalkerish ex, crying, a few swear words

Author’s Note: This is the third and final part of this series, the others can be found below.

Part One Part Two

Masterlist

“I’ll pick you up in half an hour?”

“Sounds good.” You answered before saying your goodbyes, leaving the discord call.

“Wow,” you thought aloud to yourself. “I’m going on a real date with Wilbur in thirty minutes.”

“Oh God! Thirty minutes?!” You rushed around your house to get ready.

“What am I supposed to wear when I know absolutely nothing about what we’re going to do?” You stood in front of your closet, sorting through your clothes aimlessly for a while.

“Oh I’ve got nothing to wear! This is horrible!” Your full closet just didn’t seem to hold anything you wanted.

“Ding, dong, ding, dong.” Your doorbell rang.

“WHAT?” You looked down at your phone to check the time and all the color drained from your face at the realization that you had spent the whole thirty minutes just staring into your closet.

“Well, I guess what I’m already wearing will have to do.” You whispered to yourself, “I feel like I’m forgetting something though…”

You walked out of your bedroom and to your front door, taking a deep breath before opening it.

“Hey!” You opened the door, greeting Wilbur.

“Hey Y/n! You look great!” He responded.

You almost walk out the door then remember that your keys are still inside.

“Oh crap wait I almost forgot my keys! That would’ve sucked oh wow. Uh, come in, you can wait on the couch or something while I find them” You walked back inside, Wilbur following close behind.

“The couch is right over there,” you pointed, “make yourself at home.”

Wilbur walked into your living room and sat on the couch, putting his feet on the coffee table before quickly deciding against it and taking them off.

You were searching around for your keys when you heard the doorbell ring again.

“I thought you said you didn’t have any plans for today?”

“I didn’t…” You responded as you opened the door

“What are you doing here??”

Your ex, Sam, stood in the doorway with a bouquet of flowers in their hand, quickly inviting themselves in.

“I’m so sorry for everything I said to you, I know you and Wilbur are just friends. I didn’t mean it, I was just upset. When I saw you blocked me I knew I had to come right over here and apologize-”

Wilbur walked out of the living room to see you standing in front of Sam with flowers in their hand, his jaw clenching when he remembered who they were.

“What the fuck is he doing here??” Your ex asked, raising his volume noticeably. “Jesus! Everytime I think you might be good for me you immediately prove me wrong with that fuck hanging around!”

“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to,” Wilbur shot back, stepping up to Sam who was considerably shorter than him.

“You think I’m scared of you tough guy?”

“You should be,” Wilbur responded.

They got in each other’s faces and Sam shoved Wilbur before you quickly yelled at them to stop, “Sam get out! I don’t know why you thought it would be okay to come here but you need to leave right now.”

“I’m not going anywhere, doll” Your ex tried to push a strand of hair out of your face but you dodged it.

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that, GET OUT before I call the cops !” You yelled, standing your ground.

They scoffed and started walking towards the door, throwing the flowers on the ground causing petals to fly everywhere.

“Wilbur won’t always be here doll, and I’ll be back to win you over again.”

You slammed the door in their face and slid down it, breaking into a sob once you hit the floor.

“Theyre such a fucking creep!” Wilbur yelled in frustration.

You didn’t respond so Wilbur grabbed the bunch of flowers and put them in the trash, grabbing a broom to sweep up the rest that scattered the floor.

“I don’t think you should spend the night here until you can get a restraining order Y/n.” He advised.

“Where else would I go? I can’t afford a hotel room until then, the courts are so behind right now from COVID-”

“Uhh,” he thought for a second, “you can stay at my place till then, if you’d like?” Wilbur offered.

“You really don’t have to do that Wilbur, you’ve done so much for me already.”

“I insist. They don’t know where I live, and my place is much safer than a hotel anyhow.”

You thought about it for a second before sighing, “yeah I guess you’re right. Let me pack a bag real quick.”

You walked back to your room sniffling. You quickly filled a bag with all the things you would need for at least a week and walked back out to your living room where Wilbur stood.

“Ready to go?”

“Yeah”

The drive to Wilbur’s was a quick one. Comfortable silence filled the air as you stared out the window. The only noise was an occasional sniff to clear your stuffy nose.

Wilbur’s knuckles were white from the force he was holding the steering wheel with.

A few minutes later Wilbur pulled into his driveway.

“Your house is closer than I thought it was,” you thought aloud.

“Yeah, It’s crazy we haven’t at least met up before this,” he added.

“Sucks that this is your first impression of meeting me. I promise it’s not usually this crazy”

“What’s been happening is not your fault at all Y/n,” Wilbur said before stepping out the car and walking around to open your door for you. Grabbing your bag so you could stand up before closing your door and handing you back your bag.

“Beep, beep” the car sounded when Wilbur locked it as you both walked inside.

Wilbur’s house was simply decorated but filled with many tiny meaningful details on the inside. A Polaroid of him, Tommy, and Phil on the fridge, a Youtoos of Niki on the bookshelf in the living room. Simple things to make it look more lived in.

“Where should I put my bag?” You asked him, looking around the room.

“Oh here let me show you the guest room real quick”

Wilbur walked you down the hallway and opened a door revealing a decent sized room with a queen sized bed, a dresser, and a desk.

“It’s not much but it will work for now,” He glanced around the humble room.

You set down your bags and sat on the bed, “No it’s lovely, thank you again. For everything.”

“Of course, I’m going to let you settle in for a bit while I cook something for dinner alright? We can watch a movie or something afterwards.”

“Sure.”

And with that Wilbur left like he said he would and you leaned back into the soft bed, letting it absorb you while you pondered your thoughts for a moment before deciding to put some things away. You put your clothes in the drawers and a few other things you brought on the desk before Wilbur knocked on the door.

“Dinners ready if you want to eat,” he announced.

“Oh good, I’m starving.”

Wilbur brought you to the dinner table and you both ate your food, simple conversations being thrown about in between bites. Once you were done eating Wilbur grabbed your plate and put it in the dishwasher before starting it up.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?” He asked after clicking start.

“I’m actually really tired,” you admitted. “Would you mind if I went to bed?”

“No of course not,” Wilbur looked at the stove’s time, “it is getting pretty late actually, I think I’ll go to sleep as well.”

You told each other goodnight and went your separate ways, him to his room and you to yours.

Hours later you were stuck staring at the ceiling, restless. You had been trying to fall asleep for hours with no luck.

“I wonder if Wilbur is still up?” You thought to yourself before throwing off the covers and stepping out of bed.

Careful not to make the floorboards creak, you softly walked across the hall to Wilbur’s room. His door was shut and his lights were off. Without thinking you twisted the door knob and looked inside.

“Wilbur?” You whispered, peaking your head in.

“Yeah?” Wilbur’s response was clouded by his groggy voice.

“Are you awake?” You stared at the floor and waited for a response.

“I am now, what’s up?” Wilbur sat up in his bed and turned on a dim lamp on his nightstand.

“I can’t sleep. Do you think- Um…” Your voice trailed off, unable to finish your sentence.

“Y/n?”

“Can I sleep in here tonight?” Your voice was hardly audible, barely a whisper. “I can sleep on the floor or something-“

“Come on,” Wilbur flipped the covers off the opposite side of his bed inviting you to lay down.

You smiled and walked over, climbing in but maintaining the space between the two of you.

“Goodnight Y/n.”

“Goodnight Wilbur.” You quickly fell asleep in the comfort of your friend’s presence.

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