#ANYHOW unto the tags

[feuxx]

Inspired by Lovely, lonely blooms for ashamedbliss <3

I've been wanting to draw for my lovely friend bliss and I finally managed to whip up something for her florist vampire!merlin fic. Pls check it out it's sooo good 🫶 actually pls read all of bliss's fics you won't regret it at all her whole repetoire is 🫶🫶🫶 all her words make me insane 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

[definitelynotshouting]

hi ! i just read all of the hunger au tag and #($+$(()33-(# . Hm . God awful . I am a worse person because of it /j . I have a lot of thoughts !!

First off , i find the conversion of biology and software fascinating , specially in the concepts of first worlds ! Like , you mentioned how players are more often spawned rather than born , and i personally interpret their first worlds as a sort of prenatal stage . think abt it , they're still connected to the universal code , still relying on it to learn and advance , and after they shed it and are finally "born" as themselves , able to access the rest of the world .

also , lots of body horror in this au . like , code , right ? i keep imagining the universal code as sort of veins , tendrils freshly born players are still teetered with , the connections grian has to put effort into severing as fleshy tendrils twisting and clinging unto players . much wet !

speaking of which , listeners , dude . i think genuinely they r much more scarier than watchers because they're not noticeable , their effects r not threatening , they don't stick to you n eat your insides , they get into your system and /change/ you , fuse into you , how many people have been affected by it ? even worse when you take into account they connect with other infected , n worse when they work towards Goals . girl what goals could the listeners want ????? I'm terrified .

And grian finally !!!!!! For al this time I've been looking at grian as having an eating disorder , cause , well , he does . It's so interesting , he ticks almost all the boxes . The guilt , the hiding it through clothing , the fact he's thinking of food all the time , damn . I'm also eternally fixated on the image of , like , the existential horror on it . he was created by sucking himself dried of code , he broke out of his own skin . something something caterpillars completely melt themselves in their cocoon before emerging as butterflies something something .

anyhow , such fun !!! I'm definitely gonna draw a lot for this , you're a great writer fr grrrr -🔆

Im really glad you've picked up on these concepts and themes i've carefully folded into this au, because it means they're coming across really clearly!!! :D thats how i know im doing my job as a writer, so im very pleased because all of these things you've mentioned (except maybe the Greater Code as tendrils) have been baked into the au with great deliberation

Spawned Players and their first worlds are absolutely very prenatal in nature-- i described to a friend a few months ago that a spawned Player's relationship to their first server, and the universe at large, is like an "umbilical cord" that they eventually detach from as they grow older :] how fast they go through that process depends ofc on the individual Player, but that was the general idea behind that concept!!

There's definitely a TON of body horror in this au WKDNWJDJSJ thats one of the first things i remember cw-ing for when explaining this au for the first time. Actual historical record right here LMFAO:

I personally tend to see the Greater Code as this sorta like. Fabric of binary, that forms the base for what everything in this universe is made of. Within it are echoes of recycled information, code that comes together to form the impressions of old meaning-- you could almost think of them as ghosts. No longer conscious, but emulating fragments of what they once were. Also, any and all body horror imagery is the full fault of my cousin, whom i consider the ultimate Horror Guy in my life, as well as his favorite video game, Dead Space, which has. so much meat in it, gods bless<3

Listeners are absolutely more scary than Watchers imo; i was sorta thinking of cordyceps as well as the mycorrhizae when i was coming up with them!!! There's something utterly terrifying about being so subtly changed and just not knowing why. You can see and hear Watchers; their presence is palpable even if you dont know what they are. But a Listener? They're quiet. Symbiotic but deeply, utterly invasive. Definitely more frightening on an existential level than a Watcher, which i find suitable for something modeled after fungi.

As for Grian, he 100% has an eating disorder. My portrayal of that in the au is very deliberate, even though its not directly stated. So im glad you picked up on that!!! And if you do draw anything for this for the love of gods send it here or tag me in the post i will DIE i love fanart and i am guaranteed to scream about it for a million years AUGH

[ao3feed-destiel-02]

But We Are Not of Those Who Shrink Back and Are Destroyed

But We Are Not of Those Who Shrink Back and Are Destroyed https://ift.tt/I6V7mHg by snubton His year away was a haze anyhow, and he did not need worried stares and silent judgment. He did not need them to know how he hardly kept it together. They did not need to know how Dean felt like he was losing his mind. About the monsters, upon monsters, and the blood that clung to Dean’s hands. About the drunk nights, and hospital visit when he took it too far. About the trashed motel rooms from when Dean needed to hit something so badly it felt like he was going to die, or about all the hits he conveniently failed to avoid. About the endless search for answers, for Sam, for that damn gun because he needed something to cling to. Something that he could hold in his hands and fire, because maybe that would make all of this okay. They did not need any of that, and Dean wanted to forget it ever happened. He was fine, and Dean would tell himself that over and over again until he could believe it was true. Or: Dean had spent of year on the road after Sam said yes to Lucifer, but ultimately ended up back at Bobby's. The reality of the situation is finally starting to set in, and Dean has a conversation with a Cas who is different that what he remembered. Words: 4206, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 1 of They Love Not Their Lives Even Unto Death Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen, M/M Characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Bobby Singer (Supernatural), Garth Fitzgerald IV, Jody Mills Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel & Bobby Singer & Dean Winchester, Castiel & Bobby Singer (Supernatural) Additional Tags: Mentioned Sam Winchester, Mentioned Lucifer (Supernatural), Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse (Supernatural), Sort Of, it's set during the five years that passed to get to endeverse, if that makes any sense, Pre-Relationship, I just amped up the typical tension between Cas and Dean a bit, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Dean Winchester Needs Therapy, buckets of it actually, Smoking, Hurt/Comfort, If You Squint - Freeform, Bobby Singer is Dean Winchester's Parent, its not that important to the fic but its important to be, Dean Winchester-centric via AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester' https://ift.tt/d2OxeUF June 16, 2023 at 01:08AM

[botwstoriesandsuch]

I can't find your opinion on the "The Brights Are The Corpses Of The Champions" theory. Do you not like it because it's just Too Fucking Tragic, or is it just too far-fetched, or what?

Based on this post from the video by MaskedNintendoBandit

Now don’t get me wrong, I’d read the HELL out of a au with the Champion’s corpses being used for the Blights, and the blighted champions and all that-- it’s a cool concept! I just don’t think it hold a lot of merit as a canon theory, specifically because it undermines the Calamity’s established theme of power. Ganon doesn’t win by cunning alone, but by actively being more powerful than his opponents; monsters with brute strength not intelligent, malice which sucks the life force out of you (which by the way is already a contradiction to the whole “blight’s preserve the Champion’s body’s or whatever), and in this case, Blight against Champion. Greatsword wielding Fireblight against Daruk with his Boulder Breaker, harpoon wielding Waterblight against Mipha with her Lightscale Trident, etc. The matchups are meant to exploit every weakness--cause if that were the case why not send a Thunderblight to Mipha? Or a spear counterpart against Daruk?--but rather it’s a showcase of Calamity’s mockery, it’s whole “I will beat you at your own game” kinda thing. 

So yeah, idk you can read my full weird ramblings in the original post’s tags although maybe just ignore that part about the Sheikah Shrines cause it’s more of a looser theory than an actual counter. But anyhow, I’m down for the corpses maybe being absorbed later on by the blights or something? But no the Blights aren’t the actual Champions, their weapons are a call back to the Calamity’s tactics and not the Champs wielding their weapons. And also it’s completly falls apart when the theory is based on 1) The blight’s can’t exist without attaching to corpses to have a physical form and 2) The blight’s physically killed the champions??? idk I’ll let me tell it dskfjkjsdfs:

#long story short the malice just traps their spirits and no the blights arent the champions bodies because THE BLIGHTS KILLED THEM HOW COULD #WHAT #they can't have killed the champions AND also be the champions #because by that theories logic that means the blights killed the champions without?? the essential?? elemental powers and stuff?? #and that scenario unto itself contridicts because he said the only reasons the blights exist is because they latch onto the already existing#bodies??? so #w h at #idk

[archaneanscribe]

A Firefly In The Hand

Some pre-canon/pre-relationship Forsython, Forsyth trains at night, remembers a local tradition, and Python reminds him that he'll never be alone.

The moment Forsyth’s plans set into motion was after he heard his parents exchange goodnights the room over. He kept his eyes shut, but began reciting one of the old veteran’s war stories in his head to keep him awake for the next thirty minutes, listening closely for any noises in the house. When the only sounds he could hear was the distant bleating of his neighbor’s goats, he shrugged his blankets off and hopped out of bed.

Moving as quietly as his feet would allow, he made his way over to the window and pulled it open, climbing up and out into the quiet darkness.

Sneaking through the village late at night wasn’t a new activity for him by any means, nor was it for any of the local youth. During the summer, a mass of fireflies would light up the sky every year, and it was regional tradition to catch one in your hands and make a wish that was certain to come true, but the younger children were sent to bed long before they appeared. This, of course, began a long standing and unspoken custom to sneak out after everyone else had gone to bed. Forsyth remembered those evenings fondly, catching one for both him and Python (who couldn’t be bothered to do it himself) and gleefully refusing to share their wishes.

Usually, he would wish to become a knight one day, but there were other, even more secret things he hoped for too.

Tonight, however, he wasn’t off to hunt for fireflies, but train. If Father wouldn’t let him do it during the day, he would just have to do it when he was asleep.

It wasn’t long before he had made his way out to his favorite clearing in the nearby woods. It was a fairly open area surrounded by a ring of tall, hardwood trees, with many bushes scattered around for him to hide his training lances, lantern, and bandages for worse case scenarios (he often had to forcibly enlist Python to help him come up with reasonable excuses for the injuries). He never put his things in the same spot to avoid detection, effort that his best friend told him was unnecessary as no one was even looking for them, but that was Python, who told him any effort was unnecessary. 

At the moment, his stash was nestled into a wild blackberry bush which will lay dormant for another month or so, where they had spent many a summer afternoon ruining their dinner. He pulled out the crude wooden lance, which only looked anything at all like a weapon because the blacksmith from the next town over had taken pity on him when he was in the village for a horseshoe delivery and helped him carve it.

That was how most of the adult’s saw his aspirations. Just a child’s fantasy to indulge in, even as he grew into teenhood.

He gripped his lance tighter. 

After lighting the lantern with his flint and stone to give the night some small illumination, he took the frustration of never being taken seriously out on the invisible enemies laid out before him, swiping at them in his best mimicry of the forms in his book on combat. His father tried to take it away from him, but his mother had always felt bad and returned to him later on.

More pity.

“Haaaah!” he let out a huff of exertion as he lost his footing, sliding forward an inch further than he had meant to and nearly falling.

“Really? This again?”

As he righted himself, a familiar voice emerged from the darkness, and Python came into the dim lantern light, arms behind his head in judgemental nonchalance, “Yer pop is gonna be mad.”

“I know that. And you should know by now that won’t stop me,” he replied, swinging once more, “I do everything he asks of me all day, so I can do what I want at night.”

Python shrugged, taking a seat against one of the thick tree trunks. it was a common enough occurrence for his friend to join him, as he would often be up anyway, choosing to instead nap throughout the day like a cat. His parents weren’t all too fond of the behavior, but unlike Forsyth’s family, they had long given up on changing him.

“You know I’m all for doing whatever it is ‘ya want,” he said with a dismissive wave, “I just thought you might need the reminder. You actually seem to care when he yells at you.”

Forsyth paused, glaring down at the dirt like it had wronged him, “I don’t care about his opinion so much as it’s suffocating to be there when he’s angry. We just aren’t going to see eye to eye, which I’m fine with, but he refuses to accept it.”

A jab, and a snicker from Python.

“Are you picturing an enemy soldier, or your old man?”

“Both.”

They shared a laugh at that. Despite their differences, and how often they would get on each other’s nerves, if there was one thing he could never be in Python’s presence, it was dour.

“Any success with hunting lately? he asked conversationally as he resumed, now focusing more on his footwork than his lancework. It may have been hard to believe, but out of all the teenagers and the village, Python easily had the best bow arm, and thus the hunters always forced him to tag along. Forsyth suspected the only reason he gave in is because hunting had significant down time compared to carpentry.

"I guess. Been seeing a lot of wild boar lately, but I don't think I'll tag along for that. A lot of work I'm not willing to put in."

Forsyth scoffed, "Two boar could feed the village for a week and a half! If you helped, it would save you a lot of work in the long run."

Python hummed in consideration, snuggling into his relaxed position even more like he was barely listening, but Forsyth knew he was actually thinking hard on his words. One of the few things he would put effort into was the saving of effort, after all.

"We'll see. It's a problem for tomorrow."

"If you," step, jab, "Always," step back, block, "Put off," downward swing, "Your problems," upwards swing, "Until 'tomorrow', then you'll never get to enjoy 'tomorrow'."

"Your form was off in the middle there, more shoulder, less arm," Python pointed out, and Forsyth adjusted accordingly, "That might be true, but if yer always doin' everything today, then you can't enjoy the moment. Either way you lose something, and I'd prefer to reap my benefits before I'm old and wizened."

Shaking his head, it was Forsyth’s turn to shrug, "I will never understand you as long as I live."

"Feeling's mutual, pal."

And for the next few minutes, there was silence between them. When they were younger, their time was almost always filled with antics, arguments, and mutually prodding, and there was still plenty of that, but they were now able to enjoy long periods of quiet together. 

Of course, nothing lasts forever.

"Python, look!" Forsyth called out, letting his lance arm relax, "Fireflies!"

True to his word, a group of fireflies formed a small bundle of light that was hovering near and on the bushes.

"They're a little early, but it is getting to be that time," Python supplied, getting up and brushing the dirt off his posterior, "Reminds me of when we were kids, staying up too late to see the lightning bugs."

"You're right..." he put his training lance aside, Forsyth reached out to trap two in his hands, a much easier task as a sixteen year old than a nine year old.

Python walked over to him, smiling in a soft way Forsyth thought might exclusively be for him, but didn't dare be so bold as to be sure of that, "Caught one for me too, just to finish the trip down memory lane?"

"Maybe I just want two wishes for myself."

"Ha!" Python gave him a friendly jab in the ribs, "You'd never be that selfish, it'd give you a stomach ache. Though your lofty dreams need as many wishes as they can get."

Forsyth’s heart fell. He often forgot that even his best and longest friend also saw his dreams as silly.

He did his best to sound chipper, "I think I'll just let them go this time. No need to rely on some bugs when I've got hard work!"

As he opened his hands to release them, he felt something, or rather someone, force them shut, "Hey now, what's all this about? That ain't like you."

"It's nothing."

"Don't give me that. Nothin, is ever just nothin' with you."

"You're being awfully pushy about this. Why do you even care?"

Even in the low lighting, Forsyth could see a unique flavor or anger flare in Python's eyes at that, making a feeling bubble in his gut he couldn't name. The look was gone as soon as he saw it, but it wasn't something he would soon forget.

"Dealing with you normally is already more work than I feel like doin', and it's double that when you're mopey. Better put the work in now than be forced to deal with it later, right?"

That's what Forsyth always said to him.

"It's- No one takes me seriously. Not my parents, not anyone else in the village, not even you. I won't give up no matter what anyone thinks of me, but I would rather not be dismissed anytime I open my mouth. My dreams aren't just some joke!"

"Forsyth," Python tightened his grip on his friend's hand, making Forsyth worry he was killing the poor torchbugs, "Listen. I do think what you're tryin' to do is impossible. But I know you're serious about it. I take everything you do seriously, even if they're wastes of time. Have I ever tried stopping you?"

"...no."

"And have I been there for all the nonsense?"

"...yes."

"Am I here, keepin' you company because I know that you get unto yer own head on nights like these, when I could be in my comfy bed back home?"

"Yes."

Python released him, so he could in turn release the fireflies, thankfully alive, though likely quite annoyed, "Then that's that. I would love it if you learned to settle for a little less, but I'm never gonna get in the way of your big dreams. Yer gonna need someone with a good head on their shoulders to keep your big old noggin' from floating away anyhow."

"Python..." Forsyth grinned, much more like his normal self, "I'm sorry for doubting you. Lazy layabout you might be, bad friend you are not."

"Glad to see your common sense came back. While we're here," he smiled mischievously, "Why don't you tell me what you wished for?"

"It won't come true if I do!"

And like that, they argued amicably until their exhaustion finally caught up to them (and Forsyth’s father was an early riser, so he had to return soon), and they walked back to the village together. 

Forsyth hadn't come out here to find fireflies, but he had, and even better, rediscovered that no matter what he might feel in the moment, he'll never be truly alone.•

[cruzrogue]

F’M Smoak Part II

#Fictober19 @fictober-event

————————————————————————

for fanfiction:

Prompt number: Prompt 31 “Scared, me?”

Fandom (AU if applicable): #arrow fanfiction #olicity

Rating:PG13

Warnings/Tags:  Fluff (friendship)

Thomas Merlyn/ Felicity Smoak/Oliver Queen

Summary: Continuation from F’M Smoak Prompt number: 5  “I might just kiss you.”

Notes: Halloween Bash and Felicity takes the stage. F’M Smoak is has an appearance at Verdant for a one time performance.

~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~sp@ce~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~

I want to thank @fictober-event​ this was a blast! Thank you!

~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~sp@ce~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~

​F’M Smoak Part II on A03

.

Verdant has been gearing up for the Halloween Bash. Tommy loves this holiday. He revels in being someone different and watching people be more enticed to party with as the added bounce to their normal festivities. Having a club, he can decorate as he sees fit keeping of course within a budget. He needs the club to turn a profit. Choosing the orange and black theme. Plenty of pumpkins and black cats, spiders, crows with the usual skulls, witch’s hats, and a few more Halloween décor choices.

He is excited that Felicity is helping him with a few designs. Using this to cover why they are spending loads of time together lately. He excitedly got her aboard to be one of the main event singers. She even deciding to write an extra song or two. That means he hired a local garage band to work with her. It has been so cool to see her walk in and meet the band members. Her squeaky-clean image throwing the grunge band for a loop.

“Tommy?”

Tommy moving some crates around. “Yea?”

“Why is Felicity’s name on some of these foam things?”

Tommy looks at the designs that will be used for the bash and he just shrugs, he promised Felicity that Oliver wouldn’t find out about this. The man is set to go on a trip with his mom and sister to visit a family member and won’t be here for this particular event. It’s the reason Felicity signed on to do her comeback for one night.

“What makes you think those have anything to do with Felicity?”

“Tommy? It’s her name. I may be dense at times but I know Felicity’s initials.”

“Of course, you do, you probably know all sorts of little facts about her.” Oliver gives him a dead stare. “What? You probably do and I’m not taking back that comment.”

“Well?”

“Felicity’s been helping me with designs maybe she took a break and did her name…” He won’t say she hasn’t helped him. She’s been busy practicing with her band. He admits she’s even better than he remembers.

Oliver goes to where the large cutouts that say ‘F’M Smoak’ are and counts a few. “There is about half a dozen here.”

Tommy just waves his hand, “Maybe it’s a prank I’ve set up and don’t need your disapproving overprotective tendencies when it comes to her.” He can see Oliver’s demeanor change as the man is super protective. “You’ll be away anyhow and…”

“No, I won’t.”

“No. You won’t, what?”

“My aunt is coming here to Starling so change of plans.”

“Oh. Does Felicity know?”

“No. Why should she? What are you planning Merlyn?”

“Whoa, you only call me by my last name when your peeved with me. Are you jealous?” Oh, yea the boy is jealous he can practically see the fume come from the man’s nostrils.

“No. You still haven’t answered the question.”

“There is nothing to tell.” Tommy goes back to moving crates. “If you are going to stand there like a stalk you can help me out here.”

“There is something going on.” Oliver does move to help move some crates. “Since you and Laurel are off the table…”

“I’m not seeing Felicity. You don’t have to worry.”

“I’m…”

Tommy puts his hand up as he makes a growly sound. “I wouldn’t go behind your back and you can shove this denial shtick with me.”

“Tommy, I’m sorry. It’s just everyone expects… you know what forget it. Let’s just get these crates moved.”

“Okay, I get it now. At first, I didn’t. I admit I acted like I did but I really didn’t. For that I am also sorry.” Oliver with one of the last crates that need moving looks at Tommy confused. “The laurel bit, the trying to act like 5-years never happened, a few little things. Like acting like everything is okay when it’s not.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s start by me telling you. Felicity is a great catch. You know. I know it. Someday the man who is lucky to have her will know it.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you should hear it out loud, maybe even hear this over and over that she is thee catch. I also think you should not start anything with her until you figure your shit out.”

“Then why tell me this?”

“Oliver! It an incentive.” Tommy shakes his head. “We aren’t those dickheads of our youth anymore. I know I want more. And you know damn well you do to.”

“It’s complicated.”

“When is it not? Life is full of crappy situations but it also has these moments. Ollie don’t be so afraid to live.”

“It’s more not wanting to see her hurt.”

“You know that is a copout, right?”

“Tommy?”

“Hey, I didn’t know I was going to lose my best friend five-years ago. Not once during my grief did, I wish our history stopped existing.”

“What’s your point?”

“That no one is guaranteed a tomorrow. If there is a chance that you can make her happy than it’s worth the gamble.” He can see Oliver just begin to think things over. “Just figure your shit out first!”

“I wish it was that easy.”

“Yea well join the club. If things were that easy, we’d all be happily in love.”

Oliver takes a breath but he asks one more time because the thought came back, “Are you going to tell me the truth about those foam pieces?”

“Nope.” Tommy moves around the bar. “If I were you, I would stop by Verdant tonight.”

Oliver looks around the club. It actually looks really good and that cauldron front center to the stage he wonders how that’s going to look when everything is in motion. “You need any help setting up?”

“Nope, the crew will be here soon. All the last-minute touches will be handled. You go hang out with Auntie Beatrice.”

“Fine. I’ll see you later.”

Tommy wants to tell the man not to text or call Felicity that his plans have changed. Now that Oliver has left, he can place the pamphlets that holds the main attraction the reason the place is going to be packed. F’M Smoak is preforming tonight and her music sample is available online. With his panache of adding some videos taken of her college hey days it brought buzz thank goodness Oliver is so not into trends.

~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~sp@ce~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~

“Tommy! Tommy!” Felicity scrambling around the crewmembers that are putting the last bites of the pieces for tonight bash. “Tommy? Where are you?”

“Hey there superstar.”

“Oliver, hasn’t left. He’s still in Starling.”

“I know.”

“You know. Yea he told me not that long ago.” She’s fidgeting. “I can’t. I just can’t perform.”

“Why not? You sound amazing.” Tommy makes a gesture of rocking it. “Are you scared of a few people rocking it to your music?”

“Scared, me?” Felicity continues, “I… I didn’t think Oliver would be here. He says he’ll be passing by. I just can’t…”

“Yes. Yes, you can. Girl you are amazing. You’ll be in disguise. The music will speak for itself.”

“I can’t believe I’m going to do this.”

“Felici-ty, think of this as something years in the making. You know the club owners and you’ve got the voice.”

“Fine, I know your right.”

“Good, because I know you got this. Go get yourself transformed and become this amazing F’M Smoak I know you are.”

He watches her leave and is glad she listening. Taking a look at the amazing setup that Verdant has done he can’t wait to open the doors in less than an hour. If Oliver comes, he hopes seeing what he is dubbing Ollie’s girl up on stage will shake the man unto his core.

As Tommy gets his crew ready. He goes through the drill. Making sure his people work safe yet keep an eye out for any disorderly clients. People having fun and remembering a good night is all he wants. As the time dwindles down, he calls out, “All right people show time. You all have this. Let’s make this Halloween Bash be the talk of town. Best service, great atmosphere and one hell of a night of musical performers.” Here his crew cheer on everyone is ready. Doors open and the costumed guests start to fill in.  

The music begins to play as the bar fills up. Tommy goes and checks on his musical guests, Thanking them all personally again. He notices he can’t find his number one girl. A little worried until her voice calls to him and he gets a good look at Felicity.

“Whoa.”

“Tommy?”

“Nah, wow you look amazing.” He gives her another look over. “I love the Goth you, not that the blonde you isn’t spunky.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment I think.”

He just chuckles, “Well I can’t wait to your set.” He can visually see her take a moment. She looks nervous. “Hey, you can so do this. F’M Smoak can. Knock them out of their boots.”

As her time comes, she goes up on stage. She’s glad that the lighting keeps her from truly focusing on any person. This way she can just sing to the crowd and not see any familiar faces, one especially.

Tommy is amazed as he watches her first set. He is singing along until he gets jabbed in the side and smirks to see Oliver make his presence known. The man is taking in the foam signs as his eyes fall on the singer. Tommy can pinpoint the moment Ollie recognizes Felicity and wow he doesn’t know which show to watch because Oliver is entranced and it’s like watching a movie as the most stoic man is showing so many different sentiments. From surprise all the way to lust.

Felicity words capturing the audience as her voice rocks the club.

“I'm kicking all the doors down I swear I'm gonna pull you out 'Cause your demons have been screamin' loud Na na-na-na na Throw me up against the wall There's nothin' that could scare me now Na na-na-na na”

She does a few more known songs and when she’s down the roar of the crowd clapping has her take a bow and then she moves to go back stage. Oliver is already moving quick. Tommy trailing behind he does not want to miss this.

Taking an offered water bottle Felicity chugs it. She is so glad this is over. She doesn’t know if Oliver caught her performance. Its freaking her out. She has no idea what he’d say or do and he’s only ever seen her be his tech girl.

“Felicity?”

His soft voice, she never noticed him sneaking up on her. She’s afraid to turn and see. As he calls out to her again, she tightens her closed eyes. She’s afraid of the disappointment she’ll see. He comes around to face her and she finally gazes at him. His blue eyes mesmerizing.

“I didn’t know but you were amazing.”

She’s stunned. Though his brightening smile gets her to smile.

Tommy watching this two fools dance around each other is sickening. “Well yea, you’ve always known she’s amazing.”

Oliver gives his best friend a dire look. Tommy just shrugs. These two aren’t going to move faster than a glacier so he goes back to front to watch the next act.

“You think I did good?”

“I do.” He’s really rattled by her look. He’s really digging it. “You also rock this getup.”

“Its something of a vintage. I first met Tommy wearing this.”

“Wait? What?”

“During some of my college days I may have also dabbled with music.”

“And you met Tommy than?”

“He was unreal and a perfect gentleman as he took a nice shiner to the face.”

Oliver is flabbergasted and actually recalls Tommy telling him about the black eye and his friend shrugging it off saying “The angelic voice was worth it.”

“The angelic voice.”

“What?”

“That is what he called you. This is what you’ve been doing all these weeks?” She nods. “I thought you and Tommy were getting chummy.”

“You did?”

“I almost wanted to give him another shiner to the face.”

“You won’t?”

He smirks, “F’M Smoak, I guess will never know.”

“Oliver, I’d like to get out of this ridiculous outfit.” She already grabbing a bag as she heading to where the foundry is. “I also have some…”

“Felicity?” he stops her.

“What?”

“You mentioned its only Halloween that you’ll where a mask. I was hoping to prolong the moment. Would you honor me with a drink at the bar?”

“Oliver, I would love to but there will be fans out there and…”

“And for a night, allow yourself to be the star, I promise to look out for you.” Getting really close to her as he whispers. “Tommy told be about the stalker.” He can see her processing that info but just nods as she takes his arm and the walk back.

The crowd loved her. For the rest of that night Oliver made sure she felt safe as she mingled with the fans. He enjoyed seeing her so out of the element for the quiet IT girl she has always portrayed to him. His girl is truly amazing and he promises himself that he won’t waste another second and ask her out soon. Though tonight F’M Smoak is in the house as Tommy gets her to do an encore.

.

.

.

This concludes the 31 days of Fictober!

Thank you!!!

.

song inspired:

Notes: https://genius.com/Valerie-broussard-deeper-lyrics

[tiip2ydoodles]

WHEREIN NO ONE SURVIVES UNSCATHED, CH 1

Goretober is upon us, kiddos! Mind the tags, as usual.  Read it on AO3 HERE

CHAPTER ONE: HANAHAKI & PLANT GROWTH: KANKRI VANTAS

It starts on the same day you get the flu, which is probably why you don’t notice what was happening until it was far too late. You’re already coughing, already barely able to breathe, what’s a few more winded moments in the long run?

But the flu goes away; the coughing does not. If anything, it worsens. Your chest aches. It feels as though there is something crushing your ribs, squeezing tightly around them and making them creak with pressure. As if someone is sitting on you. But all at once that pressure seems to come from inside as well, as if something inside of you is threatening to split you open, shattering every bone and eviscerating your lungs in the process. Pushing both out and in until it’s all you can do to gasp and retch and shake until the coughing subsides. It leaves you dizzy with breathlessness more days than it leaves you alone.

You cough up your first lily petal exactly twelve days after your flu first began. 

On that day, the coughing is worse than any other day before. Your ribs feel tighter than usual, as if you’d been stuffed full to bursting with something that refused to go back into your chest. The thing trying to get out of you is making a final push out and up into your throat and around your ribs. You’re in the middle of talking to Latula when it happens about something Mituna had done. Your voice had started to raise. The argument continued, grating as your breaths grew short. Anger bubbled up in your chest, resentment and hurt; wishing that she could just see things the way you do.

And then the hurt becomes more physical than emotional. That wasn’t anger, you realized, that had filled your lungs so. You start coughing. Your words turn breathless and wheezy as you gasp for air, one hand to your chest. Latula’s face goes from bored irritation at your constant lecture to instantaneous worry; her brows furrowed, her frown shifting to something a little more concerned. She reaches out a hand to you and you slap it away out of instinct as the coughs bubble from your chest and force their way out of your throat. 

“Don’t touch me--!” You rasp, dragging in a breath that sounded all too much like a death rattle to your ears. Obediently she pulls back, then turns and runs in the opposite direction for help as you sink to your knees. You barely hear her calling out to you to stay there. Not that you could really go anywhere, anyhow, sunk to your knees in the grass, clutching at your throat.

With all your strength you push one hand into the ground under you, trying to get to your feet but nothing happens. All your energy has withered away. You just keep coughing and the pressure under your ribs gets worse and worse. For one terrible, terrible moment you’re horrified that you might actually break a rib from the pressure and coughing, and hug your middle tightly with one arm. 

Your sweater’s collar feels too tight around your neck and you tug at it harshly. You gag; something works its way up your insides, scratching and tickling and making the coughing feel suddenly all too wet. With a dull panic you realize you can feel something moving as it crawls its way from inside your chest, up your throat, tickling your uvula and causing your stomach to heave. 

Using every ounce of energy you have left, you muster the strength to force yourself to stop coughing. You work the muscles of your throat and dredge up the last few drops of spit in your mouth, trying to eject whatever it is from your body and out onto the ground. 

The thing turns out to be a snow-white lily petal. 

Of course, it’s not snow-white anymore. Mucus and blood stained its veins yellow and red and it altogether looks disgusting, laying there in its shiny wet splendor on the ground. It would be beautiful if it wasn’t for those fluids. If it weren’t for the sheer horror of the fact that it had just come from inside you.

The pressure in your chest wanes and you can breathe again, but you don’t. You think you’re going to be sick. 

You’re already gone by the time Latula returns. The door to your hive slams shut and you’re panting, wheezing for breath that claws at your throat all the way down and rakes at your lungs until you have to sink to the porch floor to fight off the dizziness that slams into you. You rest your head against the door and try to calm your racing heart but it’s just not working. It’s useless; the panic has fully set in.

You have the lovers’ disease. 

If you could breathe properly, you would be hyperventilating. Your mind races, thinking of something - anything you could do to ease the pain. There’s always the usual cures, you think; confessing or getting a surgical procedure, but both of those terrify you to no end. You know for a fact that Mituna and Latula are already flushed, or damn close to it. Getting turned away would only make the disease ravage you faster...that, and you just know you couldn’t handle the heartbreak of seeing the platonic pity in her eyes as she rejects you verbally. A once and for all final nail in the coffin, both for you and your paltry romantic fantasies.

The surgery is just as bad of an idea to you. Sure, it would eliminate all the issues, you’d be free and clear and cured...but you’d never remember Latula at all, and if that wouldn’t be the most obvious indicator for anyone who knew you that your coughing had been something other than a flu, that you were a useless excuse for a troll with a stupid illness because he can’t get up the globes to get over an old crush--

You suck in a rattling breath. Letting your mind run into anxious rambling will not help you now. You try once again to rationalize, but all you can think of is how you would most definitely be culled if you opted for the surgery. You’d be put under some highblood’s care and treated like a gilded pet, a trophy to remind other highbloods just how nice and kind and understanding your new owner - sorry, caretaker - really is. 

With a burgeoning sense of dread you realize that you can’t cure yourself. There’s nothing you can do now or ever, short of falling out of love with Latula, that will ever make this disease go away on your terms. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream, but all that comes out is a choked whimper. You drag your hands through your hair. The silence of your hive seems to press in on you, the lilies in your chest pressing back out, until it’s all you can do to just sit there and cry out your resigned fate in silent tears. They fall fat and thick down your cheeks and you shudder, but you don’t make a sound. You can’t. You’re caught between the devil and the deep blue sea and there’s no lifeboat in sight for you that won’t immediately sink. 

So you lay on the floor and cry. 

You cry for what seems like hours, days even, but could have been mere minutes for all you know. Once all your tears are spent you lay there for a good long while, silent and still, giving the occasional cough as the lilies shift and writhe inside you. 

You can feel them now - you don’t know how you didn’t before. They twist and squirm like the so many living things they are, scraping your lungs and stretching root and stem alike along your insides. You can feel them reaching up unto your esophagus. Even the silken petals feel like razorblades against your throat and your breath comes out around them in a squeaky hiss. You swear you can feel the flowers piercing through the meat of your lungs, strangling your heart and rattling your ribcage as it slowly burrows its tendrils into you.

The thought makes your stomach turn. You get up from the porch and race to the ablutions block, barely making it in time before you’re forced to kneel in front of the gaper. The coughing returns and you see stars.

All that comes out is petals. Petals, and the occasional leaf and stem. Seeing the bloodied but beautiful flowers floating in the water makes your stomach turn again, and again, but no matter how much you heave all that comes out is flowers. It’s as if the disease has already spread, laying claim to your stomach as well as your lungs. 

Vaguely in the back of your mind you wonder if you’re even able to eat anymore. 

You stare down at the flowers with a dazed sort of fear swimming through your veins, paralyzing you. There’s nothing you can do anymore to save yourself. It’ll get worse, and worse, until your organs are simply nesting hosts for the roots of flowers pushing their way through the surface of your skin. You’ll leave a pretty, mangled corpse lying in your bed, starved and poisoned, suffocated by petals. Barely visible under the forest that will grow from your flesh will be your body.  

Already you can feel them worming their way up the back of your throat, past your mouth, up into your nose. They tickle the little space between your eye ducts and eyeballs. You pick at your eyelid and feel a bud growing there, just under your eye.

With shaking legs, you stand. You strip. Your tears have stopped long ago, now, your face sticky with them but no more falling. You’re not sure if it’s because your ducts are blocked or because of the tired resignation that’s clouded your mind. It’s far too late for you, but that’s alright. You watch the tendrils squirm under the skin of your chest. They’re already wrapped around your ribs, pushing out into your skin. You can see the delicate petals and stems wriggling and slowly scratching away at your insides, wearing down your flesh until they can poke free. 

It’s far too late for you. But that’s alright. 

You finish stripping and get into the shower. You may as well be clean for when it happens.

[starwarmth]

tagged by @theroamingwriter! Thank you!! this was so fun

Rules Pick a character from your wip and have them answer these 15 questions, then tag 15 people!

1. what is your full name?

My name is Dorathia, and that’s what I like to be called.

2. what does your name mean?

It means “gift of God”

3. what are your nicknames / other names?

I haven’t got nicknames. I haven’t got any names. I don’t often need to be addressed actually. You may write to me, that’s always best.

[Author: she has many, many names. Especially on her travels. And titles. She has those too. She’s just not going to tell you. Also: only one person calls her Dora, and his name is Petar, who also has many names he will not tell you.]

4. what’s your gender?

What’s a gender?

[Author: She’s female, and a prissy one at that.]

5. what’s your sexuality?

What’s a sexuality?

[Author: She’s straight and incredibly straight-laced and reluctant involving romance, despite folks wishing to romance her.]

6. where are you from?

Here and there. Definitely from the continent.

[Author: She was born in Aldasijia, but after her mother’s escape she lived in Valtitia in a Seers Guild. She’s been living in a tower in Naeka, near the Southern Islands for the past several years.]

7. how old are you?

I’m older than SOME people who think themselves important and like to try to tell me what to do. But I’m also younger than some.

[Author: She’s 19.]

8. any special talents?

Not in the least.

[Author: Many.]

9. do you have kids?

No. I shan’t, anyhow. Not now, maybe not...maybe not ever. Hm.

[Author: Not at present.]

10. what’s your aesthetic?

I like flowers! And books. And goats. And I like my lilac hair ribbon, which... Ahem.

[Author: The lilac hair ribbon was a gift to replace all her pretty jewels and gold. She wears it everyday.]

11. who’s your best friend?

I’ve been alone for a while now. It used to be my sister, but...well. I also had several birds that visited everyday, and I would whistle with them. There was a chipmunk who liked to live in the trees outside. She had a husband and many children! I met them all!

Of course I’m not on my own now but that wasn’t necessarily my choice. I wish I was alone, that way I could actually get somewhere on this continent.

[Author: She doesn’t.]

12. would you ever get a piercing / tattoo?

Certainly not. Tattoos and piercings are gaudy and uncivilized. Not to mention dangerous.

[Author: Tattoos and piercings are a certain magic unto themselves, and can cause magical “branding,” which is what she’s referring to. But magical tattoos that can move are pretty sick, so a lot of people get them regardless.]

13. when are you happiest?

I...I liked when the village children came around and I got to tell them stories. Sometimes I even showed them letters and taught a few how to read. I loved it very much. And I liked being with my mother and sister. Even if I was a failure at being a Seer. Sometimes they didn’t mind that much, when we were on our own. And recently I like when we stop by the streams and rivers to do laundry, and. Well. Sometimes I get to dance, which is fun because I didn’t have a lot of room to dance before and now I can.

14. what’s your biggest secret?

*blinks with her long eyelashes* I haven’t got any.

[Author: She has many.]

15. what’s the first thing you notice about people?

Whether or not they’re safe or dangerous. After that it depends on their smile, or their eyes, or the way they talk...or if they have a big head. Just plain arrogant. And always pulling people around. Just because someone has agreed to follow you doesn’t mean you get to throw them on horses or pick them right off the path and walk into the woods without even asking! I’m reasonable, I’m smart; I like to be asked! Even if it IS in the middle of a raid! It’s called manners!

[lovelykhaleesiii]

I understand... (Part 10)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader 

Words: 1428

Summary: You’re the daughter of Tony Stark, and after meeting the Avengers for the first time, you begin to fall for the one who your father despises most…Bucky Barnes. Story takes place after Civil War, but the Avengers remain intact all of them reside in the Avengers Tower, but Tony still holds a grudge against Bucky.

Warning: angsty!Bucky, overprotective Bucky, ex-boyfriend drama, hints of sexual assault, swearing, short time jumps (***)

a/n: sorry if the story is becoming shit... I’m trying lmao

Tags:

@fandom–0verdose , @m4shtyx, @impalatobakerstreet , @dreams-in-blxck, @irondadandspidersoncute, @basicmarvelbitch, @tonyystarkle , @woman-of-letters-legacy , @seabasstiantrash , @can-you-actuallynot , @conflictedintima , @wtfholland , @ivartheblessed

_________________________________________________

The morning had gradually past and you had hesitantly kept your distance with Bucky, since Tony had stayed throughout. That was, until he had finally been called to attend an abrupt business meeting, which to your relief was much needed, since you had too much to tell Bucky.

With Happy bustling by Tony’s side, holding his sleek, black brief-case as he diligently attempted to inform Tony the arrangements and schedules of the day, with you on the opposing side walking beside your father, as he had given you instructions for the day.

“This paperwork needs to be done by tonight, Y/n? It’s urgent, so keeping our differences aside for now, can you do that for me without, I don’t know maybe intentionally sabotaging them?” Tony sarcastically pleaded, knowing damn well you would never have such menacing thoughts.

“Yes, of course…” You irritably utter, as you reach for folders from Tony’s rough hands, still unaccustomed to this estranged relationship between the two of you.

“Good! Oh and by the way, Dany said he’d drop by in an hour’s time to help with those-” Tony proclaimed, having entered the elevator with Happy, as he eyed out the folders in her arms.

“Really??? You don’t think I’m capable enough to handle a couple pieces of paper… Like you said right? Starks always find a way, huh?” You retort, unhinged by the thought of having to consecutively see Dany’s exasperating face.

“Oh I know your capabilities well enough, my dear… But he is an employee of mine, so I thought I’d have him work here for the day.” Tony disdainfully grinned as he met your bold stare, which you’d both been cut off by the closing, metallic doors of the elevator.

“Fuck me” you whisper, as your head leaned back eyes closed as you faced towards the ceiling.

Taking in a deep, exhausted breath at the thought of having to be accompanied by Dany’s presence, you had suddenly felt to brawny arms wrap around your curvaceous waist.

“What’s wrong love? Has he left you with all the paperwork?” Bucky sincerely questioned, as he gently directed you to face him, his rough hands caressing your hips.

“This and Dany… He said he’d drop by soon to help.” You solemnly reply, unable to stare into Bucky’s intense blue eyes, as you remained scanning his protruding chest.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me?” Bucky angrily retorted, his irritability growing by the sheer thought of seeing you share a room with Dany.

“Baby, he won’t do anything, I’ll make sure of that…” You utter, as you lean forward, tip-toed as you plant a kiss against Bucky’s luscious lips. Savouring the short, sweet moment before the devil himself came through…

***

“You can start from this pile, and I’ll work all the way over on this end with these. Got it?” You retort with an eyebrow raise as you quickly glance over to Dany who hadn’t wiped that smug look on his face since he’d arrived.

“Why are you sitting that far? Making me have to walk all that way if I need help, or if you need mine?”

The smart-ass that he was, still existed by his constanr egotistical nature.

“Oh I won’t be needing your help, I’m certain of that…” You crisply reply.

Soon enough, you had arranged to work with Dany in one of the available conference room meetings, near the lounge as agreed with Bucky, who would remain nearby. You could read his body language like a book: he was completely infuriated by the sight of you two in a room together, whilst he was stuck with the pleasant company of Steve, Sam, Natasha, Bruce, Vision and Wanda. And the fact that Dany wasn’t just any random employee of Tony’s, but just so happened to be your ex, enraged him even more.

Still staring at the set of papers you had before you, you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of a jealous Bucky. You were definitely going to prove to him soon enough, that you were all his…

“Who’s got you smiling like that?” Dany gleefully intervened.

“What makes you say it’s a ‘who’?” You amusingly question.

“I remember of course. That’s how you would smile when we were together...Surely you couldn’t have forgotten that we used to be a thing, right?” He sarcastically commented, that irritated you by the second.

“Oh trust me… I’m trying” you sternly imply.

“Ouch -” He laughs… “But anyhow… Need your help with this.”

With that, Dany had immediately made his way over to you, sitting close enough you swear you heard Bucky slam his fists. Looking upto you relief, he remained seated as the rest you presumed attempted to calm him… You were hopeful that Dany hadn’t even realised what he could have triggered. He wouldn’t have stood a chance against the almighty, Bucky Barnes…

Having listened to Dany’s issue and reading through the paper, as you began to present him with an answer, you felt his hands gently caress your back. Your body wincing under his touch, as his hands felt foreign, having adhered to the way Bucky handled you completely.  

“Stop… Right now.” You erupt, trying to keep your voice down, so Bucky wouldn’t suspect that you were in trouble.

“Come on, don’t tell me you don’t miss that?” Dany retorted, smiling as his fingers continued their stretch over your back in circular motions.

“You need to stop that right now. Dany, I’m serious…”

“What’s up with you… Are you seeing someone, is that why?” With that his strokes came to an halt, causing a wave of relief to spread over you as your muscles contracted to relax.

“Well no, but-”

“But what? I don’t see why we can’t rekindle things again, wouldn’t you agree?” He slyly exclaimed, as his hands yet again met the surface of your shirt reaching down to its hem, as he began to lift it up.

Immediately you grasped his hand in yours, your grip tightening against his wrist, as you stared intensely at him.

“You need to stop thinking that there’s the slightest chance of us ever being together again… It’s never going to fucking happen. So I’m going to give you one last chance, for the sake of completing these-” you say as your free hand points towards the piles of paper scattered over the desktop.

“Once we’re done, know that I never want you in my sight again...For now, don’t you ever presume to touch me again.” You aggressively threaten.

With that, Dany retreated back to his desk returning your ultimatum with a stony, terrifying look.

***

After Dany had finished his pile, he immediately stormed off, leaving you to sort the papers yourself. You glanced to see Bucky death-staring the hell out of him, Dany oblivious to the assassin he had triggered. Once Dany was completely out of sight and F.R.I.D.A.Y had confirmed this, the gang had walked into the room knowing well that something had happened between you two, right under their noses.

“Don’t tell me he touched you again, didn’t he?” Bucky retorted, disgusted by the thought of it.

You simply nodded, to infuriated and mentally drained to have even replied.

“If I see that son of a bitch again, know baby-girl that I’m not going to hold back… He needs a fucking lesson on-”

“Language, Bucky... Besides, I’m certain Y/n was capable of handling herself…He seemed pissed. You tell him off?” Steve intervened, sympathy evident in his tone.

“Yeah, of course I did, but…When I told him off he gave me this look, this-this unsettling look. I’ve never seen him in that light… It made me feel uneasy. I have a feeling he’s probably planning on something, but I can’t be too certain on what.” You fearfully insisted, observing everyone’s faces, until you gaze fell unto Bucky’s.

“Baby… If he even tries, I’ll break him before he could” Bucky firmly insisted, as he stepped closer to you, his lips planting a soothing kiss onto your forehead, as his muscular arms embraced you in a hug.

“Okay, then we’ll leave the love birds to it!” Sam called out, as he pointed everyone to the direction of the door, as if there was an evacuation. It made you reassuringly smile.

You felt completely safe and sound with Bucky, but Dany was unpredictable. This whole thing was and it was only a matter of time till he’d do something, you were sure he’d regret it all, if Bucky intervened...Perhaps Tony would then see what he has caused.

[progeny-of-the-fury]

Dalmar’s Folly

Log date: 12/31/17

OOC Note: The text in these logs are strictly for the reader’s enjoyment. Anyone using the knowledge displayed within this text without the participant’s knowledge risks the potential of blacklisting from future communication and roleplay. Please do not meta-game!

Tags: @dalmar-ferrera

I had just returned home from the Grindstone after a well fought loss. It felt undeserved, despite how long the battle went on for... but even still, I had little room to complain. At least I had not been kicked out after the first round again. Returning north, I made way to our House’s infirmary to treat my bruises. While light, I still needed to remain in top form... especially with all that had been going on as of late...

Dalmar Ferrera arrived into the infirmary in near-silence.  A stark difference from the clomping-stomping arrival he was typically known for.  Blood welled terribly from a number of wounds, the worst of which seemed to be about his torso.  It was clear that he'd been wounded awhile before he sought out help, considering the advanced state of his disarray.  He took it upon himself to collapse in a bed.

Carina De'bayle: "Hestia, honey," Carina calls as she enters into the infirmary, "sorry that took so long, I was-" Carina audibly gasps as she turns, spotting a young man instead of the half-Elezen girl. Practically biting her tongue, she quickly waddled her pregnant self over to him, "good gods, what happened to this poor man?! Hello?"

Adelise De'bayle stands from her her bed, Carina having caught her attention. Turning the corner, she spotted Dalmar proned on the bed. Exposed on her were numerous bruises, and her gruesome scar looking just as unattractive as usual. "Dalmar?!"

Dalmar Ferrera twists his head slightly, and elects to respond in a chipper crook.  "Hello.  I don't mean t'burden you with my dyin' and all.  I'm a friend of Adelise's and I was under the impression this was a good place t'go about bleedin' out." He seemed in good spirits, despite the crimson that stained the fabric below.

Carina De'bayle: "I am going to take with your reponse that this is true. Hydaelyns sake, Adelise go and fetch me some more potions immediately. We need treat this man!" She orders out in a bark, turning her burned visage back onto the man as she placed a gentle hand to him, "Dalmar was it? Sweety, I am going to need you to try and roll on your back for me, please..."

Adelise De'bayle nods to Carina, quickly wandering off.

Dalmar Ferrera shifted slightly, but doesn't obey the woman's order.  "I figure y'want to probably start on that..." He suggests.  Where a welling of blood was hidden beneath the ebon of his coat, the head of an arrow had been broken off into his back.  "I... uh."  His tone slurred, "S'like..."  There was a weakness to his tone, as he began to drift away.

Carina De'bayle: "Hey, hey, hey!" Carina snaps at him, her softer tone being replaced by one with more sharpness. "There will be no dying today!" Taking a deep breath, Carina lowered her hands to Dalmar to remove his coat and top carefully. Then moving to remove the bloodied arrow head lodged in his back with her bare hands, she tossed it off onto the floor before setting her hands to his back. "Deep breaths Carina... deep breaths," she said aloud to herself as the faintest of green light seeped out from under her palms and fingers. She needed to at least keep this man in this realm. While she anticipated the healing to immediately take its toll on her, much to her own surprise she held surprisingly well. More aether pooled into him as the wound began to slowly heal, the woman blinking in some wonder.

Adelise De'bayle finally returns with an armful of potions, quickly moving to set them onto the table that resided next to the bed. "M-Mother!" she cried out, "you will hurt yourself! Please, allow me!" She quickly tried to move and push Carina aside.

Dalmar Ferrera had drifted into some rather comfortable thoughts, as opposed to the previously assured afterlife that had been vying firmly for his addition.  His form churns under the attention, clearly having never been under the effects of a proper medical procedure.

Carina De'bayle held steady against Adelise's pushing, "quit it, Hestia!" Carina snaps toward the young woman. "I understand your fear, but... something is different," she looks down at the pool of aether flowing from her fingers, "this... power. It's not my own," she says quietly, some awe coming over her.

Adelise De'bayle: "What do you mean not..." Adelise pauses, her eyes widening. Eyes dropping toward the other woman's belly, Adelise looked back to Dalmar with a surprised expression. "I-I see... what should I do?"

Carina De'bayle: "I removed the arrow head in his back. The healing provided should definitely keep him alive. I think it's time we turn him around and see to treating his other wounds as well. Go onto that side, we will turn him together.

Dalmar Ferrera was quite ignorant to a vast quantity of subjects, particularly those regarding aether.  Even with the arrowhead removed, however, he was wounded.  Right arm, stabbed.  Left heel, grazed.  Right thigh, sliced.  He was, however, more pliable to Carina's demands.  His form twisted and flopped unto his front.

Adelise De'bayle moved to the other side of the bed, helping to latch onto the man's arm. Without much of Carina's help, she forcefully turned the man onto his back with near all her strength, her biceps bulging from under her skin in the process. "Ah good, good..." she murmurs as the man was able to provide her some aid in turning his body. "Let us just..." she began removing more of his clothing, down to his briefs!

Dalmar Ferrera wasn't really in any position to argue his case, but there was a weak flush that crept through his features as he was suddenly laid near-bare.

Carina De'bayle: "Alright, get us a rag and some water so we can clean him up. I will continue closing some of his wounds. Your brother seems to be particularly helpful today," Carina grins proudly, scooting around to the other side to take a hold of Dalmar's right arm and begin healing it slowly but surely.

Adelise De'bayle: "Ah... okay," Adelise frowns, her eyes dropping toward Carina's belly again. Looking down at her own hands, the young woman simply tightened her lips and turned to walk away.

Dalmar Ferrera had been in a fight belonging to some misintent.  The wounds were formed from knives, and bows, all at close range.  "I ain't meanin' to make a mess." Dalmar's voice rose in a weak drawl from his throat, not quite sure who had a grip on him at the moment.  Only that they had a warm touch.

Carina De'bayle: "There is no need to apologize, Dalmar," Carina soothed out to him in her hoarse voice. Once the injury on his arm but had all but heeled, the woman moved to begin working on his legs.

Adelise De'bayle returns with a pale of luke-warm water. Setting it down on the end table, Adelse dipped the rag in before bringing to slowly begin wiping Dalmar down.

Dalmar Ferrera twitched and jerked beneath Carina's ministration.  It was not something borne from pain as much as purely based out of mental stigma.  To be touched without harmful intent was a frightful experience for the Rogue, even despite their best intentions.  Green eyes peeled open at the bathing, but other than a walleyed look, he didn't complain.

Adelise De'bayle was sure to hold Dalmar steady, certain he didn't lash out at Carina at any point. Continuing to wipe him down, she eventually got another rag to soak in the water, before applying a healing salve to it and begin wiping down with that.

Carina De'bayle eventually rose her hands, the pool of aether coming from her ceasing. Blinking at her bloodied hands, Carina wiggled her fingers as though to see if she felt anything wrong. "Amazing..." she laughed in awe. "Dalmar, are you able to hear me at all? The worst of your wounds have been closed. Though they are still very much so present. The potions I have should be able to help mend most of them more, but I will not be able to prevent scarring."

Dalmar Ferrera teeth found his lower lip in response.  He could almost feel his vigor return with the healing of his wounds, but his agitation only seemed to mellow from there.  As his damage became less deathly, he seemed more keen on staying still.  "Ch'yeah, I hear you." He responded, cracking a green eye.  "Scars ain't nothin' to me, anyhow.  S'just character."

Carina De'bayle smiled down to him, her own face disfigured by horrible burn scars. "You are telling me," she laughs. "You might have to wait a few more moons to thank your healer. I fear he is not currently around."

Adelise De'bayle: "Onto your back Dalmar, I need wipe there."

Dalmar Ferrera gives Adelise a wet cough in response, before flopping gracelessly back onto his stomach.  Eyes raked about for the source of his savior, "Y'mean they left?" He doesn't quite get it, clearly.  "Well.  Whoever y'are, thanks." He murmurs to Carina.  "Saved this witness ape t'live another day."

Adelise De'bayle wipes down the mans back where blood lay and the remnants of his injury remained. Setting aside the dirty rags, she motioned a finger, "think you are well enough to get up? Or will you need some help. I wish to transfer you to a clean bed. I can carry you if you turn on your back."

Dalmar Ferrera didn't seem overly keen on the idea of being carried, so quite quickly he'd begin curling his weight beneath him.  Grunting and groaning with all the grace of a sack of spriggans, "Y-yeah, I'm good t'walk." He huffs weakly, moving to set his soles on the floor.

Adelise De'bayle reaches to wrap her arms around the mans shoulders, providing him something to apply his weight on as she lead him to the clean bed.

Dalmar Ferrera: "I ain't got to lie down all limp, do I?" Dalmar furls his brows at the bespeckled woman with something of a searching expression.

Carina De'bayle: "Only if you want to!" Carina chirps out in a far happier tone, clearly pleased the man was no longer dying. "I am going to ask that you drink a potion or two though, it will help with the soreness and bruising, but it will not too much about the damaged tissue I fear."

Adelise De'bayle wanders off to go fetch said potions, returning back to offer them to Dalmar.

Dalmar Ferrera brought his knees up a little closer to his chest in something of a more defensive posture, with his back to the partition.  "Ch'yeah, I didn't figure y'could seal me up all good n'new.  I'm real happy t'still be 'round, though."  A palm was pressed to one eye as potions were pressed into his hands, "I can pay y'for the treatment, I just got to get to my pants."

Carina De'bayle: "Hm. As much as I am willing to accept such, you are a friend of... Adelise's. I could not take payment without a heavy heart. A pleasure to mee you though! I am Carina, Countess of the House," she smiles, waving a bloody hand to him.

Adelise De'bayle: "What on Hydaelyn did you get yourself into," Adelise asks in an exasperated tone.

Dalmar Ferrera stiffens as Carina introduces herself, especially considering his state of advanced undress.  "I... uh!" He stammers, colour blossoming in his features.  "Dalmar... Ferrera." He almost wheezes in the most polite introduction that he could muster, biting his bottom lip.  His eyes settled more comfortably on Adelise's, "Job went bad, I guess."

Carina De'bayle simply smiles warmly toward the man's apparent discomfort, allowing for Adelise to speak to him for the time being.

Adelise De'bayle: "Job wen bad, huh? You came in here practically dead! That is a little more than bad," she huffs out, placing her hands over her wide hips. "At least you came here. Gods only know where you might have ended up elsewhere!"

Carina De'bayle: "Adelise," Carina 'tsks' out. "Not so harsh on the man dear, I think the last thing he needs is a lecture!" Carina chides herself, pking and elbows to the young woman's side.

Adelise De'bayle grimaces some as Carina hits her bruised side, her teeth gritting in the process.

Carina De'bayle: "Oops! Sorry, sweetheart."

Dalmar Ferrera flicks his gaze hurriedly between the two women.  "Dyin' is pretty bad."  He huffs, before his eyes more comfortably move back to Carina.  "With all due n'just respect, M'Lady. Adelise is probably right.  That bein' said, I'm a master of gettin' into dumb trouble."

Carina De'bayle: "Aren't we all?" She smirks, "thankfully for you, you had the pleasure of being our next best healers first patient! I am quite happy you made it out of this in one piece. Though, you will need to drink those potions you have there," her expression lightens, a permanent smile fixed there, "fair warning: they are quite foul tasting. Do try not to lose your dinner."

Adelise De'bayle can only pout, her brows furrowed in annoyance as she crosses her arms and steps aside some.

Dalmar Ferrera furls his brows, never having been one to trust strange substances.  The woman before him seemed to have a trustworthy sort of air, at least.  "I didn't even eat dinner, s'no harm." He states with a flippant grin, before downing the first of the draughts.  The grin did not last long, as colour drained from his features.  "HRrk." He muffles behind a forearm.

Carina De'bayle: "I tried to warn you!" She said out in a cheery tone, waving up a finger. Eventually she rested her hands over her rounded belly, continuing to watch the man with a close gaze. "One more! You can do it!"

Dalmar Ferrera held down whatever forest berries he'd scavenged with the brief encouragement.  Without letting the first malinger for too long, he downs the second.  His reaction was no better, judging by the wet coughs he stifles into the crook of his elbow.

Carina De'bayle turns to plop her fat self down at the edge of his bed, reaching a soothing hand up to rub at his back. "There, there. I know it tastes bad. We will get you some water to help wash it down. At least it is distracting from the pain, no?"

Adelise De'bayle turns on her heels to do just that, making way to fetch Dalmar a glass of water and returning to offering him it.

Dalmar Ferrera gives an unenthusiastic nod, although he nearly jerks away from the helpful woman's touch.  There was a noticeable tense to his form at the contact.  When Adelise returns, he'd hurriedly gulp down the water in an attempt to wash down the draught and the taste it brought.  "Bleugh.  Y'weren't kiddin'."

Adelise De'bayle narrows her stare dangerously toward the man as he jerks at Carina's touch, practically offended for the woman. Taking a firm seat, Adelise crossed one leg over the other, keeping up her disapproving glare.

Carina De'bayle hardly seemed bothered by the man's response. Simply removing her hand, she rested her scarred fingers over her round belly. "Never am! Unless I am, but I believe then it is obvious! You really should be more careful, injuries such as these can have a lasting effect."

Dalmar Ferrera folds his arms over his chest in a vaguely protective motion, anxious for his nakedness.  "I ain't really one for bein' careful." He murmurs, "Guess I should start now, huh?  Few scars don't hurt, though.  Ladies love the scars." He states, unconvincingly parroting a phrase he likely heard elsewhere.

Adelise De'bayle: "Do they?" Adelise says disapprovingly, "would you care for me to fetch you a fresh pair of clothes?"

Carina De'bayle snickers some, pressing a hand to her disfigured cheek, "I suppose in my suns of romances, women did not seem to mind mine," she winks.

Adelise De'bayle: "Mo-moth-!" Adelise grits her teeth, practically biting her tongue off. "M-My Lady! That is hardly appropriate!!"

Dalmar Ferrera seems to take affirmation in Carina's statement, "See?  I am right!" His vigor appears to have returned to some degree, whether from the draughts or the magic.  "I uh... I mean, I could wear my old clothes."

Adelise De'bayle can only sigh in some disgust, shaking her head. "They are dirty, bloodied and torn. I am going to have to strongly advise against such. I will get you some," she stands with a huff, marching out.

Dalmar Ferrera: "Tough crowd."

Carina De'bayle and only wave a hand, "she is a tough cookie. Not sure where she gets it from," she snorts out a ridiculous laugh, "but I know she has a good heart."

Dalmar Ferrera softens his expression slightly, "Yeah, I noticed.  She's a good girl."

Carina De'bayle stands, moving around wordlessly to go and clean her hands off, upon returning she glanced Dalmar over some. "You are not mixed up in the wrong crowd now, are you?"

Dalmar Ferrera gives the older woman a sort of bland look, "There really ain't a 'right' crowd for people like me t'get mixed up in, t'be frank."

Carina De'bayle: "I highly disagree! Believe me, I can probably assure you our backgrounds might not be all too different," she smiles. "Once upon a time, I was some cowering drug-dealer in Pearlane. Just trying to get by. I too, got mixed up in the wrong crowd often."

Dalmar Ferrera lofts a goldspun brow in response, "Uh-huh." He states, in some unconvinced tones.  He remained polite, though.  "I ain't really the cowerin' time, honestly.  S'orta why I end up with wounds like... y'know." He explains, "There ain't really a way out for me, though.  S'goin' to be like this until I make it, or I die."

Carina De'bayle: "Oh good! I mean, I might have cowered a lot, but that was mostly because I couldn't fight to save my own hide," she snorts, "Joseph here needed to lend me a hand more than once, but I reached a point where it began to not really matter if people hurt me. I sort of just allowed people to beat up on me. Told myself it had to make me stronger some sun. Delusional thinking that was. Life is never too bad to take back the reins. Try and keep that in mind."

Dalmar Ferrera gives the woman a purse-lipped look, as her words slightly shook the loosely-stacked building blocks that he'd stacked his life upon.  "Righ'..." He breathed in a shaky way, gnawing worriedly on his bottom lip.  "Thanks again for uh... not lettin' me bleed all over your nice place."

Carina De'bayle: "Oh, you bled quite a bit. It's all over the other bed and on the floor. But, we have had far worse. So don't you worry!" She assures him. "Sorry, I am not quite as inspirational as our Viscountess is. Fancy words have never been my specialty.”

Adelise De'bayle: "Fancy words, hm?" Adelise returns with arms full of fresh clothing. "Here you are," she says, bringing them over to set onto the bed.

Dalmar Ferrera began dressing himself almost instantly, as the clothes were laid out.  Nakedness was a weakness to the man, clearly, judging by the way he seemed more comforted in the strange clothing.  "Ain't nothin' wrong with talkin' fancy, if you've got the talent."

Adelise De'bayle smiles weakly toward this, her head shaking slightly, causing the long braid that graced her back to sway back and forth. "Your words are flattering my friend. My speech patterns come from many, many turns of pouring over books on language. Also, my own guardians dialect rubbing off on me of course."

Carina De'bayle smiled toward this, before watching as Dalmar dressed. The woman was hardly subtle about her approving stare. "Well mister Dalmar, you are more than welcome to come back here again if ever you need sanctuary from this rough'n rowdy life you find yourself in."

Dalmar Ferrera gives a weak shrug, before he started gingerly working himself up and off the bed.  "Guess y'got that to be thankful for, yeah?" He offers, resting his feet on the floor.  "If things are goin' the way that they go, I'm sure I'll have to slip back in for a stitch or two.  Hopefully nothin' quite this bad, though."

Carina De'bayle: "Are you sure you're well enough to be on your feet just yet? You know you're more than welcome to sleep here the night, and have yourself some breakfast in the morning? I will let our front desk know," she grins, walking around the two to make her exit.

Dalmar Ferrera: "Your mom's real nice.  I feel bad 'bout makin' an exit now."

Adelise De'bayle: "Ah well, she is a very persistent woman, but she certainly tries he-" Adelise practically chokes on the breath she sucks in, her teeth gritting as she looked toward the man anxiously. "T-The Countess? She... she is like a mother figure... you know. Being pregnant and all."

Dalmar Ferrera shifts and twists in the unfamiliar clothes, offering Adelise an unconvinced "Uh-huh."  He'd give her a firm look, "I should be goin', anyhow.  I ain't really about stayin' in other folks' beds.  Thanks again for... y'know.  Helpin'." He flushes again, "N'all that."

Adelise De'bayle: "O-Of course," she murmurs out, happy to immediately change the subject. "What else would I have done? You are my friend," she says out simply, as if there were no room to argue that. "I will not insist you stay like she might. Just be careful please."

Dalmar Ferrera: "A'course, hero.  Not about to go walkin' into any more knives tonight.  A quick jaunt back t'my place, and right into m'big bed." He offers, tucking behind the partition to heft his bloodied, mangled clothes.  "Y'ain't goin' to tell nobody that y'saw me in my briefs, yeah?"

Adelise De'bayle: "I mean? Does that really matter?" She asks out in confusion, "they are just briefs, I hardly care."

Dalmar Ferrera: "I care!  S'not... appropriate!"  He huffs!

Adelise De'bayle: "Do you wish to see my briefs so we can be even or something? It is just cloth!"

Dalmar Ferrera gives a single hard blink in response.  There was clear temptation for a moment before he flushed brightly and turned away, "S'fine!  I'll just... make m'way out!  Thanks again!" He states hurriedly, before moving to scamper away.

Adelise De'bayle simply rolls her eyes, "good night Dalmar."

[thetownwithpep]

Out of Control [Riverdale!Jughead x Reader]

“hey can you do a imagine of jughead where the reader is having a panic attack and it is like that teen wolf scene in 3x11 where lydia kiss stiles? thx”

Done and done! This is my first imagine on Tumblr, so I hope it’s okay. :) I apologize for any grammatical errors I missed! And feedback is always appreciated. 

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Word Count: 1462

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Do this. Do that. Turn your focus here. I need your help over there. Why didn’t you do better on this quiz? We need your help decorating the dance. Why didn’t you come to my party Friday night?

Why can’t you do better?

Why can’t you be better?

It felt as if someone had a vice grip on your mind–the pressure from your thoughts and the surrounding sensories building. The day had started out alright, you were a little low on sleep, but nothing you couldn’t handle. With your planner by your side and a to-do list written out, everything would be okay.

Until third period, when you couldn’t find your planner and suddenly, you’d felt as if you had lost control of everything. You attempted to calm your racing mind by writing and re-writing your list of things to do on various sticky notes and blank sheets of paper, but to no avail. Writing things down helped you to keep everything in order, but it had to be in a planner to work.

It had to be neat and precise to give you a sense of control.

And without it anchoring your nerves, your thoughts ran wild. Worries about deadlines, doubts about interactions with friends, and fears of not having your next step planned out flooded your brain, filling it up to the brim–but you refused to allow any to leak out. Throughout the school day, you make sure to maintain a composed appearance in front of your friends and classmates; smiling when needed and speaking up when called on. Even though it was a battle against yourself to avoid crumpling into a wired ball in the middle of the hallway.

To the most of the school, you were fine.

To one of your best friends, you were not.

Jughead had been keeping an eye on you since he saw you freeze up in third period. He’d known you long enough to realize what the furrowing of your brow and the drawing in of your limbs meant–panic. He was also wise enough not to bring it up in school. Rather choosing to remain by your side as much as he could, trying to deduce the root of your distress and how he could help fix it.

You could tell what Jug was doing, as soon as he began to silently walk with you to your different classes, whether or not he attended them with you. It brought a slight sense of comfort in knowing that someone was aware that something was off, without you having to outright tell them. Jughead had always been someone you could turn to in times of need and vise versa. Talking about the whirlwind of emotions that had a tendency to fill your heart and mind, was never something that you were very skilled at. So, having the one person who you wanted to know how you felt, already know with no words spoken, was a gift all unto itself.

Of course, today was the day your teachers decided to assign all of the big term assignments, and each one pushed you closer to the edge. Relief flooded your system when you heard the final dismissal bell ring. Go home. Do homework.

Simple enough. That you could handle.

Jughead joined you on your walk home, the fresh air and blue skies cooling your nerves ever so slightly. You and he walked side by side, your eyes fixated on the sidewalk beneath your feet, while Jug’s were focused on you. He wanted to ask if you wanted to grab a bite a Pop’s, for his stomach sounded like an overprotective mother bear, but he knew that you’d say no. What you needed was to follow whatever plan had accumulated in your mind in order to regain a sense of control.

And so, he decided on grabbing some food at your house; it wasn’t unusual for him to hang out there anyhow. The trees that were lining your street casted cool shadows over you, which gave your skin a break from the vibrant sun that was out that afternoon. Pushing open the front door, you were happy to see your house just the way you’d left it–one less thing to worry about. Your parents wouldn’t be home for a couple more hours, meaning you would be granted with peace and quiet as your thoughts fell back into place.

Jughead followed you up to your room, making sure to leave the door slightly open, and took no time in flopping on your bed while you settled down at your computer desk. Placing your backpack neatly to your right, you pulled out that night’s homework as your laptop booted up. Though you were still on edge, you were able to focus a bit more now that you were in your space. Pulling out the sheet of paper that listed your homework, you began to silently estimate how long each assignment would take.

Math would take you around forty-five minutes, another twenty minutes for history reading, and probably another hour for your English writing assign–

Freezing your train of thought, you glanced up at your laptop when you didn’t hear the usual melody that played as it turned on. The screen was black. Wierd. You swore you had pressed the power button. Shrugging it off, you pushed the on-button and waited.

Nothing.

You pressed it again, holding it longer this time.

Blackness.

You checked to make sure it was plugged in while you were at school, it was, meaning it should have a full charge. You pressed the power button one more time, but to no avail. Your laptop wasn’t turning on. This… this couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not today.

The logical side of your mind was telling you that you could head to the library, or a friend’s house to finish typing the English assignment, but, at that moment, all rational thoughts went out the window. Your neck and shoulders tensed and you could feel your toes curling into the soft carpet underneath your feet. Forehead twisting in distress, you rested your elbows on your desk and your head in your hands. The room was silent, but the silence was too loud. Your fingers curled into your scalp, nails digging into your skin, trying to keep the tears from escaping.

Breathe, you thought. Breathe.

But, soon breathing turned into hyperventilating, which drew Jughead’s attention away from the book he had been reading. He quietly marked his page and put the novel to the side. Scooting forward on your bed, he asked, “How are you feeling?”

The thick lump in your throat took a couple of swallows to get down, before you managed to softly sputter, “Completely out of control.”

Jug stood from his spot on your bed and walked to your side, careful not to touch you because he knew at that moment, physical contact was the last thing you wanted. He grabbed ahold of the back of your desk chair, pulling you away from the laptop and spinning you so that you were facing him. Slowly, you lowered your hands from your face, your breathing becoming increasingly ragged as you attempted to steady it.

Jughead’s eyes locked with yours, “(Y/N), I want you to breathe in time with my counting. Okay?”

You nodded.

“One. Two. Three.” In.

“Four. Five. Six.” Out.

“One. Two. Three.” In.

“Four. Five. Six.” Out.

You could feel your heart rate slow as you found yourself gaining control over something once more–your breathing. Closing your eyes, you inhaled and exhaled in time with Jug’s voice. This continued for a few moments before you felt the intrusive thoughts knocking at your mind once more. Eyes flying open, you stared at Jughead, trying to convey to him that you required another distraction–and quickly–without opening your mouth.  

He got the message and hurriedly racked his brain for something–anything–that would make your mind go blank. And while he didn’t physically desire to so, he lurched forward and pressed his lips to yours anyway. He could feel your entire form go rigid with shock, and he knew that his tactic had done the trick. His lips remained on yours for another instant before they retreated. Jughead didn’t fear you getting the entirely wrong impression.

He did have feelings for you in a romantic sense–though, that moment may not be the best for revealing how his feelings went past friendship–just not a physical desire. You knew that was how he was, though, which is one of the main reasons the kiss took you completely off guard.

You blinked, “But… you-”

“It distracted you, didn’t it?”

You swallowed and gave a slight nod.

Jug smiled, “Then my plan worked and was worth it. Now, I’m famished. Let’s head to Pop’s.”

—————————————————————————————————-

Tag List: @impalalalala

[simulatedstories]

At one point I saw a poll posted somewhere (ModTheSims, maybe?) that seemed to indicate that most Simmers tend to focus on a single family. Certainly a lot of Simmers with a significant online presence seem to have a single family or Sim they play with, but that could just be their “streaming family” and they have other Sims they play when it’s just for themselves.

I don’t. I have a LOT of families and virtually all of them are entities unto themselves. Other families are not placed in the world to support them or their story; if there are other played families sharing the world, those families have their own stories as well. That isn’t to say that I haven’t occasionally dropped in a family or a few Sims from the gallery or exchange to give them more variety in neighbors, but I don’t consider those “played” since I literally drop them into an unused lot and don’t touch them unless they have issues with cc clothing or something.

Anyhow, if you’re following me for stories, be aware that I’ll post about a variety of families. I’ll do my best to be sure posts are tagged correctly.

[untidywords]

the spark of life

Full Name: Amelia Lynette “Amy” Paterson

Hometown: Baton Rouge, Louisiana, USA

Current Residence: New Orleans, Louisiana, USA

Occupation: Jazz singer

Birthday: December 16, 1990

Zodiac: Sagittarius

Species: Human

Gender: Cisgender woman

Sexuality: Bisexual

Relationship Status: Single / Thread dependent

Shipping Status: Closed

Opposite/Ship Tag: Perry Hastings / OTP: ...

Verse: Realism

Theme Song: “Un amico” by Ennio Morricone (Spotify/YouTube)

SUMMARY trigger warnings: none

All her life, Amy’s been surrounded by beautiful things. Her parents, both deaf since birth, have always been the prime example of this; her mother, the art teacher, would clad their house in her projects, put pieces of her soul on their walls, and Amy’s father, the carpenter, would fill their house with furniture he’d made himself, sparing them the need to buy almost anything. They were loving parents who encouraged Amy to pursue her dreams, and when she asked them for piano lessons at age seven, they were more than happy to oblige. Since then, Amy’s life has revolved a lot around music. With two deaf parents, it was a double-edged sword -- they could never hear their daughter perform, though on the other hand, Amy could lose herself in her practice well into the night and they’ve never notice. They found alternative ways to experience Amy’s music, though, and they were more than happy to help send her to college in New Orleans. Ever since she graduated with a musical degree, she’s remained there, steadily building a reputation for herself as a performer of jazz. Though she plays a number of instruments, she prefers to sing, and makes the bulk of her living off of that. Her life seemed to have fallen perfectly into place -- until she got pregnant. And not only that, but the father in question bailed before the first month was even over. Amy wasn’t deterred, however -- she’d always wanted to be a mother, and she decided to have the baby anyhow, prepared to raise it alone. Right in the middle of her pregnancy, however, Amy met a man she steadily would come to believe was the man of her dreams...

BIOGRAPHY

Under construction. 

PERSONALITY

To say that Amy is fun-loving is almost an understatement unto itself. There’s a lot of life in her, always has been, and she’s never been afraid to let it show. In fact, it’s been her hallmark, her way of connecting with the world around her -- people have always liked the energy she’s put out into the world, and so there’s never been an incentive to change. She’s quick on her feet and very determined, something that can be both good and bad in different situations -- she’s not the best at compromising, and prefers to argue her way to get what she wants. It’s not everyone’s cup of tea, and so it can be off-putting to people who aren’t very into discussion; but it’s the way she was raised, harmlessly arguing with her parents until the most logical conclusion, whosesoever it was, won. 

[yogaadvise]

Ritual Inspiration: Yogi and Guitarist Bibi McGill

The enigmatic Bibi McGill is as comfy directing the divine with the harmonium in the quiet of her very own house as she is rocking a flaming guitar before hundreds of howling fans as Beyoncé's lead guitarist. While the duality of her interests is clear, McGill possesses a regular visibility and also level of intention that spans her method to music and also wellness.

After devoting herself to the guitar from the age of 12 in Denver, Colorado, McGill studied music racking up and arrangements in university as well as relocated to L.a to seek a profession following her passion. She now directs Beyoncé's backing band and also collaborates with a myriad of other musicians. McGill discovered yoga in 1998 as well as began to show 8 years later on. As her technique grew, she began producing spiritual music along with the preferred radio strikes that helped boost her occupation. She also released her very own line of healthy and balanced treats. Across all these pursuits she has one aim: to be a clear channel for spirit and also to change energy where it requires to do without attachment to its outcome.

McGill's residence in Rose city, Oregon, is a sanctuary loaded with brilliant colors, embroidered pillows, singing bowls, home made kimchi, as well as her namesake Bibi Kale Chips in trademark purple package deals. While we talk, we rest at her handmade old-growth oak tea table and also beverage uncommon teas in the Chinese Gongfu tradition. Her Chihuahua Daschund mix, Rock-it!, swirls up silently on a pillow by her side. McGill's focus is so clear in her preparations that she appears to put her entire self right into our little clay mugs. Here, she shares some insights about her routine method and also her numerous resources of inspiration.

How would you explain the different elements of your day-to-day practice?

I awaken in the morning, offer thanks for awakening, and kiss my dog. I begin steaming water in preparation for tea to alleviate into my day and also get in touch with the plant spirits. Then, I do my 20-minute reflection, from the Kashmir Shaivite Tantric Neelakantha tradition. It's an experiment an old history that broadens the vibrational regularity of the heart. I then invest 10 approximately mins in petition as well as appreciation. I appreciate by starting with myself and my needs, then my family members, and after that I hope for my area, neighborhood, state, country, as well as every animal that flies airborne, crawls on the planet, or swims in the waters. I provide many thanks for all the elements, as well as send my prayers and also like bent on the celebrities and the earths and also every feasible form of life.

From there, it's time to obtain right into the responsibilities of my day. It's just not possible to operate plainly and from a secured area without beginning my day with this kind of habit. I have a yoga practice at some time, and do my 2nd Neelakantha meditation before my night meal. Recently, I have actually been finishing my day with a much more peaceful tea: generally an adaptogen that aids with my hormone reaction to stress as well as leads me to a clear mindset, like a Savasana. I have actually been doing truly well at reaching bed by midnight. That's my timeless practice.

You chat a whole lot concerning the importance of tea in your practice. What about tea is so special?

I love tea. It has brought me so much quality, so much placement, so much gratitude, so much link and recognition. With the Chinese Gongfu custom in particular, the tea is a living being that has actually been taken care of. This practice has been passed down for numerous thousands of years-it's such a pure as well as effective vibration that it could offer you whatever it is you need. It has actually shown me to pay focus to many subtle distinctions and also changes in power that could happen throughout my day in my energised field. I've begun incorporating just what I have actually picked up from the Chinese custom into teas that don't originate from that tradition, like lavender or rose blossoms, or rainforest teas like guayusa. This practice has opened me approximately a higher recognition for teas as well as plants in general.

When did you understand music was one of your callings?

I was attracted to songs at a young age because my older sibling and also sis played timeless piano and retro 70s funk songs. I had not been assuming about songs as a calling, I just desired to play guitar. I was shocked to learn extremely promptly that I was good at it. Then, I enjoyed songs a lot that it was the only point I felt I understood how you can do. I provided up football in senior high school to concentrate on guitar. I mosted likely to college and got my level in racking up and also preparing and also relocated to The golden state. It was never ever my objective to be well-known. I simply wanted to play music, have individuals enjoy it, as well as make sufficient cash to cover my basic requirements. Being devoted to that as well as having reasonable expectations brought me through in a most divinely held means, to where it just took off.

How did you discover religious songs, and also exactly what is its partnership to the various other songs you create?

I had actually relocated to California to go after music as a career and also worked a day task at a record tag. After four years, I was fed up as well as left. With a whole lot of time on my hands, I made a decision to do something I would certainly always fantasized of-take a yoga course. As soon as you're introduced to yoga, you're virtually automatically presented to religious songs, chanting, rule, as well as kirtan. Yoga exercise definitely changed my life, and it incorporated music. I instantly embraced mantra, kirtan, and yoga into my life in 1998.

Prior to moving to LA, I had actually played songs in church. I really mosted likely to a Bible college since I wanted to be a priest of music. In numerous different spiritual viewpoints or religious beliefs, songs is a component of appreciation and thanking the divine. It really did not matter to me whether it was in a church or a yoga studio. Music and spirituality go hand in hand.

I have a deep love as well as appreciation for classical Indian songs and also love to incorporate those components in my music. My music flavors attract from globe, ethnic, tribal, indigenous, electronic, scripture, as well as every little thing between. 'Bhakti,' the Sanskrit term for 'commitment,' just means from the heart. For me, religious songs is my petition of appreciation, love, splendor, appreciation and also honor unto the Many High.

My songs is a gift that I'm below to share as well as utilize to influence people, change their truth in a positive way, and also offer them some quantity of delight. My intention is to be an entirely open and clear channel for divine sources to move through me anyhow is one of the most beneficial to me and any individual else paying attention to the songs. When I grab my guitar and go out on stage, I have to get out of the method as well as let that energy job through me as well as jump off the strings of the guitar and my fingers. I exist to change reality any way is required for individuals that are unhappy or sick. The vibrations of music shift realities.

How did you determine to become a yoga teacher?

I loved the practice so much that I wished to find out more than I might by mosting likely to courses three times a week. I wished to take a teacher training not to end up being an instructor, yet so I could discover a lot more regarding yoga's record and also philosophy. I intended to learn the purest type of yoga as well as develop my very own method as well as understanding.

What have been some zero hours in your teaching?

I wished to teach so badly after I did my instructor training, however I was horrified to obtain up and lead practice. It was such a huge duty. I was so blessed -the first 2 locations where I began instructing in 2006 were really well established yoga studios in the LA location. Having full courses and experienced trainees required me to grow instantly. A turning point came when a guy strolled into my course with a prosthetic leg, took it off, and placed it on the ground. I resembled, "What do I do?" You just teach yoga.

You may enter your classroom and have 10 to 17 different individuals with various needs-I learnt how to change. I've had individuals tell me after course that they had actually remained in a vehicle accident as well as had not done any exercising in three years, and that they enjoyed my course. I found out to take notice of the refined distinctions that are always occurring in our energised field, as well as to listen and also trust my instinct. You could have a little of a plan or program, but not an add-on to any kind of preconditioned way you desire your course to be. The minute a person can be found in who is fidgeting as well as doing their very own thing, you need to change in order to offer everybody just what they require. That involves the very same trait I apply in songs: get out of the way, let the energy resolve you, and also pay attention.

How do you incorporate habit into your life?

Ritual is essential to me since it aids me enter a behavior of developing healthy routines that support my advancement. Routine assists to recognize and attach me with the ways, methods and customs of our forefathers. Rituals like ceremony could be beautiful for us humans to see and experience and likewise enhance our faith and also idea within the outcome we want. Routine helps me to link psychologically to my dreams, visions, and also goals.

If you're going to make something a habit, it needs to be something you're really attached with that you value as well as think in. Habit is a lot more for us as people. When we go and also rest at a church and repeat a mantra 108 times, it's to help us to think in that point. However, long, lush, drawn-out routines aren't always available to us. I could go straight to source energy to ask for what I want and obtain precisely what I need. Lights sage helps us to think that we're cleaning our home. Yet at the end of the day, all I require are my thoughts to say, 'I wish to clean my home of any kind of lower-vibration regularities that aren't offering me.' It's not the sage that does it, it's the power of my beliefs and thoughts and also intents. The power remains in my faith and also just how I'm straight linked to The Divine. There is nothing that is separate. We Are ONE.

Ritual is also a mindset of keeping a consistency of mind throughout the whole day. Whether I'm putting tea, excavating in the earth, strolling barefoot, hugging a tree, tipping into a river, or in the center of a crazy flight terminal, I have to bring those elements into the minute, best then as well as there. Points frequently turn up as well as remind me to offer many thanks. Maybe I'm sitting on an airplane alongside someone who is fidgeting around-I might get frustrated, or appreciate that this individual next to me lives as well as has a leg that he could tremble. By doing routines daily, there are possibilities to practice or utilize those devices. To puts it simply, stroll your walk. You can practice ritual all day, yet if the very first trait you intend to do is shout at someone or kick the dog, then just what is that ritual for? Nothing.

From where do you draw inspiration?

Without a doubt, nature, pets, and also our ancient indigenous ancestors. They really did not have computers, TVs, devices and also cars. All they had was nature: to sit about and see exactly how the clouds moved, day by day by day after day by day. To examine how energy relocated via their bodies, everyday by everyday by day. If that's all I had to provide for also one year, I would certainly discover a lot. I obtained understanding into just how they lived through my dog-all your family pet needs to do all the time is relax and also view you. They begin to recognize your patterns. When I'm driving in my vehicle, before I even put my foot on my brake, Rock-it! is already supporting himself. It's unbelievable exactly how they're so tuned in to everything we do.

What have been several of the most transformative moments in your life?

I've transformed in the past year in such a substantial, visible means. Maybe since I'm growing older and more mindful and also comfy with who I am as well as just how I'm turning up in this globe. Maybe the accumulation of all my practices over my life. A great deal of it concerns a recent relational encounter that put me in a position where it was either die or rise and never ever enable myself to be in a scenario like that again. I was not going to set as well as die, so I found out never to disregard my intuition again.

When I made a change and also said, 'No a lot more am I mosting likely to maintain falling down due to the fact that I didn't listen to my intuition,' boom. Happiness came, count on came, as well as assistance came. Everything I want is coming. I'm strolling by faith as well as not by view, due to the fact that if I were to check out just how traits looked, I might crumble. This is something so a lot bigger compared to me.

That change elevated me to an area where I've never remained in my whole life. I'm so crystal-clear and entirely relying on of who I am. I enjoy myself more than I ever before have in my entire life. There was always this sticking around unpredictability or despair in my life, which's not a component of my life at all any longer. That is a massive improvement. I love me, I love my life, as well as I'm thankful to be here.

What's the very best suggestions you have actually ever received?

It's a message that has actually originated from my own higher self: If you develop a life that is in positioning with resource energy, everything you want and also want will certainly appear. All you have to do is simply trust fund and not follow your personal restricted understanding. Remain plugged into resource! Everything's going to be okay, it really is-regardless of just what you see. I can survive that message for the rest of my life.

Is there a concept or message that keeps you inspired?

It's been my concept for so several years. It's rather basic: 'I am.' It's one of the most present, connected, 'I am.' Past, present, future, now.

What are some necessary practices you would certainly provide for individuals who just have a couple of minutes daily to themselves or don't have much encounter with ritual?

Just take 5 minutes of peaceful time. Go sit somewhere. Stay up great and also high. Kick back, shut your eyes, and also just breathe. For five mins. That's it. Ensure you turn your phone off so you're not mosting likely to be disturbed. That will certainly do wonders for you.

Another method is just spending 5 minutes a day outside. Just sitting beside a tree. Strolling via a park with your pet dog or your friend. It does not matter if you stay in a city. Simply five mins strolling outdoors and being existing with the plants, the trees, the clouds, and also paying attention to the birds. Either one of these practices would be a wonderful location to begin, anyone would see a greater tranquility as well as quality in their life practically immediately.

Is there anything else you 'd like wish to share?

Anything individuals are feeling called to do-it's time to begin doing. Stop discussing it. It's time to act now.