#eff writes

[effei-s]

silkworm

kuroneon; explicit; 4,720.

1/8.

@anotherworldash @thelovelyghostwriter GUUURLLLSSSSS! GURLS IT'S FINALLY HERE!

[effelants]

Super Secret Fic Project is super secret no longer. Its name is, and always has been, Sanguine.

It's a loosely canonical chronicle of the events of Dragon Age: Origins featuring a canonically impossible Warden and a F!Amell/Alistair pairing, which results in some familiar situations resolved in unfamiliar ways.

It is fully pre-written (by myself, over the course of the past seven years) and illustrated (by the exceptional @vjatoch), and is being published in a serial format with weekly updates beginning... right now. Literally, right now.

Read chapter 1 of Sanguine here on AO3!

[karoochui]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Five Nights at Freddy's Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Sun (Five Nights at Freddy's)/Reader, Moon (Five Nights at Freddy's)/Reader, Daycare Attendant (Five Nights at Freddy's)/Reader Characters: Sun (Five Nights at Freddy's), Moon (Five Nights at Freddy's) Additional Tags: First ever work posted lets fuckin go, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Love Confessions, hoe you are smitten, No use of y/n, Potty Mouth Reader, playful bickering, kisses mwah mwah, not cannon to my au/just a stand alone, there's references but that's it, Reader-Insert, Insults as a Love Language, One Shot, Sun and Moon are the Same Animatronic (Five Nights At Freddy's), gender neutral reader, post fire au Summary:

Years after the fire that destroyed everything, you've regained a sense of normality in your life with Sun and Moon in tow, comfortably living with you in your apartment. Everything is great, perfect, just the way it should be.

So what do you do, then, when platonic "I love you"'s and common affection aren't enough to satiate your longing desire for more? What do you do when you can't stop yourself? Are you truly willing to risk your idyllic life with them over a heart that can't put one foot in front of the other without falling?

It might be easier than you think.

[respectthepetty]

As if My Stand-In wasn't rude enough, remember that poster of Ming new Joe first saw when he was leaving the hospital?

It's the same shirt Ming was wearing when he broke Joe's heart.

And remember when I wrote Joe had core strength because he was lifting Ming's shirt up with his mouth since his hands were tied behind his back?

He is wearing the same hoodie in episode four's preview, which means Ming is probably going to do some real stupid shit for Tong.

Remember those ridiculous pillowcases Joe bought?

How could we ever forget them?!

They are laying on each other's in this scene. Ming is on Joe's and Joe is on Ming's.

But Ming takes his when Wut shows up.

Oh, and in the trailer, Joe is laying on his.

And Ming is leaning on his.

And they are clearly in Joe's house because the picture on the nightstand is the same as the first time they had sex.

But . . .

On the very first night they tried to have sex, Ming was wearing white pants and Joe had on these yellow-ish boxers.

And in the trailer they are wearing the same outfits, YET we didn't get THIS scene in the first episode.

BUT . . . those damn matching pillows are on the couch.

They normally are on the couch AFTER JOE BOUGHT THEM!

So that scene from the trailer isn't their first night together. It's later! But how much later? Because these bowls show up in odd places too.

You know, the green and gold bowls Joe bought before Ming broke his heart?

The ones they ate off of like a cute couple when Wut brought them food?

Yeah, the bowl is behind Joe in this scene from the trailer.

And that shirt is the same shirt under this jacket from this scene in the trailer.

Ming is also wearing the blue watch in this scene.

And we know Ming had that suit in the past because it was hanging in his closet.

And we know the fight continues to the house because of this promo picture.

Which would make sense why Ming is sitting there all sad with the green and gold bowls waiting for Joe to return.

BUT . . . why would they be kissing by the gold and green bowls if they are breaking up in episode four and Joe is about to die?

So either Ming wakes up, Joe says nothing, Ming puts in a great effort to cook and sex up his man, only to fuck him over for Tong which leads to them fighting in the street and death.

Or Ming is still living in Joe's house in the future with their green and gold bowls and king of heart pillowcases and we will see those two scenes later.

Or Ming could eff over Joe and still be living in his house two years later since this is the same guy who broke a man's heart in a blue and red striped shirt and wore that same exact shirt a year and a half later when he started working for the same company his ex worked for.

Which is something he never had an interest in.

So to recap, Ming is possibly a sentimental asshole who has been holding onto meaningful items and conversations from his relationship for the past two years and he is acting because he no longer wants to be himself since he doesn't have Joe.

Cool beans!

[nyaskitten]

Happy birthday to that NERD @theroxian !!! 💥💥💥

[zer0pm]

Imagine having dated Luis Serra in the past only to be reunited with him literally chained to you.

“Another late night?”

A sigh. “Sí. Wesker wants another update on the new medicine my team is developing.”

“Didn’t you just send him a report about it this morning?”

“My thoughts exactly. But people like him, they’ll push because they can and keeping pushing until they get what they want.”

“Sounds familiar.”

The man stops typing away for a moment to turn and wink at you. “You like it when I push.”

You chuckle lightly in turn and pull up a seat next to Luis. The researcher welcomes you at his side, instinctively placing his hand upon your knee as soon as you settled onto the chair. His fingers dance upon the fabric of your pants, caressing the warm skin beneath while his other hand returns to the keyboard.

There is a tired expression upon his handsome face as he focuses back on the computer screen, but the tugged up smirk on his lips and the relaxed gleam in his beautiful grey eyes that appeared in the wake of your presence of you was unmistakable.

“It’s going to be awhile,” he says, a soft lull in his voice. “You should go home and get some sleep, mi corazon.”

You shake your head, returning him a gentle smile of your own. “I’ll wait, Luis. I don’t mind.”

“Can’t rest unless we’re in bed together?”, he says with a wag of his brows.

You quip back playfully, “We wouldn’t even rest if we’re in bed together.”

The Spaniard hums thoughtfully. “That’s a tempting thought. I better hurry up, then.” He leans his head against yours. “Pero, seriously. I don’t want to make you wait.”

A comforting hand reaches over to affectionately squeeze his muscles arm, “It’s fine. Stop worrying. As long as I’m with you, Luis, I’m happy.”

You feel him nod. The growing hairs along his fine jaw, softly scratching against your head. “Yo tambien. What is the expression, we’re… attached to the hip?”

“Practically chained together you and I.”

“Keep distracting me with ideas like that and we’ll never leave this place.”

—-

A deafening ring scratches against your ear drums, a dim light shines a dull pain in your eyes, and rusted metal scratches against your wrists. All these sensations awoke you gradually, a slow rude awakening. You’ve barely a moment to gather your wits and take in your surroundings before a familiar voice catches your attention.

“¿Estás bien? Are you hurt?”

It’s Luis, he sounded slightly disgruntled, but it did little to hide his evident concern for you.

You instinctively shake your head. “No. No, I think I’m okay. You?”

“Could be worse. Better than being in a musty burlap sack. And this time, I am in the presence of good company.”

Always the charmer. Some people just do not change, and when it came to Luis, that thought puts you at ease.

The last thing you remembered before coming to was finding Luis tied up in some basement. Leon was there, and another man, large and imposing, who approached the three of you unannounced. There were gunshots, and you recall a massive fist connecting with your head. That’s gonna bruise…

You look overhead to see your wrists clapped in irons and a pair of strong arms dangling alongside yours.

“Guess we ended up chained together, afterall.”

You feel Luis’ back slightly shaking against yours, a low chuckle rumbling from his throat. “I admit, this isn’t how I imagined it to be like either.” After a slight pauses, he sighs and calls you by name. “Pleasant talk aside, not that I’m not happy to see you again because… admittedly… I am- But what are you even doing here?”

You shrug. “Oh, you know. The views.”

The Spaniard scoffs. “Falsa. You’re a terrible liar. Always have been.”

Again, you deflect. “And what about you, Luis? This doesn’t exactly look like a cozy spot for a vacation.”

“I live here. Within the village. The house you found me under? Casa de mi infancia. My childhood home. It was, anyways, before…”

He paused. For a moment that felt like an eternity, he said nothing. It unsettled you.

“…Luis?”

He shifts a little behind you at your voice before a what sounded like a defeated sigh escapes his lips. “Joder. I was conducting research,” the man began. “After leaving Umbrella, I came back here to treat the villagers from a disease that has plagued them for a long time. Back then, it was bad. But now, it is much, much worse than when I left many years ago. I tried to help, but as you can see, I’ve had little success.”

Now it was your turn to fall silent. That was a lot to take in. After separating from Luis all those years ago, you continued to keep tabs on him. You made the excuse that you were simply monitoring his movements in case you were able to gather more information about Umbrella, but really, you just wanted to make sure he was okay. The last time you two spoke… it did not go well. And when he went off the radar, you thought the worst but never gave up searching. To say you were relieved to see him again and learn that he still practiced medicine for the benefit of others was an understatement. You feared that he may have gone off the deep end and we’re glad that you were wrong.

Luis speaks up when you said nothing. “Suppose it’s a good thing that you didn’t come here with me, after all.”

You pondered over what to say. There was plenty. You wanted to tell him that you missed him. That you thought about him every day. That you ended things between you two for his sake. But they all failed to reach your throat. Instead, you opt for a different truth. One that he deserves.

“I work for the government.”

When he doesn’t speak right away, you mentally prepared yourself for his anger and disappointment. You expected him to fly off in a rage and curse you a thousand times over, reproaching you for failing to come to him with this from the beginning. You expected him to question if your time together, if your feelings shared were genuine, and you were prepared to confirm that you and him were real. Instead, as often as Luis does, he surprises you.

“I know.”

You blink, your words faltering for a second. “Y-You know? What do you mean ‘you know?’ When- How-”

“After you left me. I did a little digging- on my own… and I learned some things.” He shifts to his feet and you followed suit, meeting his eyes. Despite their cold hue, his words came out warmly. You detect a hint of anxiousness from him. “I know why you did what you did, mi amor. Just wished you would have told me.”

Your heart flutters unmistakably from his term of endearment for you. You had to force your eyes down so as not to have your emotions betrayed to him even though it was already pointless at this point.

“I couldn’t…”

“I know.” Those little words again. “Still would have been nice to hear them, anyway. Well, perhaps not “nice”- Pero, it would have been ideal to try to work it out together.”

“Would you have wanted to at that point?” The question left you before you could bite it back.

Luis’ eyes sparkled at the almost hopeful tone in your voice. “With you, I want to do everything.”

This man is too good to be real. You wanted to hug him then and there, to pour out every apology known to man, to beg his forgiveness and declare your love for him. But the chains around your hands and the fear of rejection prevented you from doing so. However, the way Luis looked at you told you everything you needed to know, told you everything he felt and still feels for you, and you only hoped that your eyes said the same. Still, being one that wishes to validate their intentions, you opened your mouth.

Luis stops you. “Shh! You hear that?”

You focus your senses, trying to identify what he’s talking about. And sure enough, the distinct sound of garbled, inhuman groans reaches both of your ears. Your fists clench and your body tenses instinctively. This time, not of fear, but in disciplined alarm, ready to face any threat that dared to come your way. Luis picks up your stance instantly, a flash of amusement and admiration in his grey gaze.

“Now, despite my impressive physique, I’m actually not much of a fighter. So, would you…?”

You switch places with him before he could even finish his sentence, minding the chain that connected you both. The tall man reflexively shivers beneath your touch and as you left a hand lingering upon chest in a protective manner, he didn’t move away.

“Stay behind me and keep your distance.” You ordered sternly before throwing him a side glance, “And by the way, this discussion is far from over.”

“Muy bien. You got this.”

His tone was meant to be casual, but there was no denying the hint of admiration (and daresay lust) that rumbled within his thick throat. This was a side of you he has never seen. And although he can deduce that it comes from years of discipline and training; deep down, he knew your instinct to protect him comes from something much baser and more powerful. He knows, because he’s ready to protect you to despite his suggestion otherwise.

There was so much that needed to be said between you two. But that would have to wait until you were both safe. And without interruption.

“Just another long night, ¿si?”

As long as I’m with you, Luis, I’m happy.

You didn’t say it out loud. But he heard them all the same.

.

.

.

A/N: A continuation of Him.

Gif is also not mine, please support the original poster :3

[tackytigerfic]

wip game: RACE

WELL imagine my delight when I found that I do in fact have a WIP with that word and that it is, in fact, an F1 wip! Galex AU - tentatively entitled Be Thou My Vision - where Alex quits racing and buys a big manor house, but when he moves in he discovers that the annual church fair is held on the grounds every year. So he has to work *very* closely with the vicar.

“I’ll be honest with you Alex, in hindsight it hasn’t been ideal. Zero out of ten stars, would not recommend. I’m hopelessly old-fashioned, but I want the person I’m with to actually, you know, like me as much as I like them?” It was, Alex thought, becoming abundantly clear that they had been having very different conversations this whole time. The relief of it was nearly dizzying, adrenaline zipping through him, fingers tingling and uncooperative like he was about to ease the balaclava on before a race. He lifted his hands to touch, palms skating up the shiny polyester of the cassock, snagging on buttons.  “Is that all?” he said, giddy with it. “Blimey, Georgie, is that all it is?” “Don’t.” George was very still under his hands, that impossible stretch of jawline gone tight. “Don’t tease me. Don’t make it worse.”

WIP Wednesday game!

[mc-tums-fog]

Under The Desert Sky

Pairing: Elliott Marston x GN! Reader

Chapter II: When Clusters of Stars Tell Stories

Chapter Summary: Every action has a reaction, that’s what you were taught at a young age. You just never figured your actions would cause Elliott Marston to have this kind of reaction.

Content Warnings For This Chapter: Period-Typical Racism (Mentions against the Aboriginal people and Native Americans)

Notes:

Wrote this chapter immediately after the first, and was proud with it initially. But now I'm not too sure. Did some minor rewrites but still, not too sure. I think that's just me second guessing myself, plus figuring out the exact order of events for the next chapters. I'm trying to trust the process gang.

Read on Ao3 or below the cut:

It took you about a week since the conversation between you and Elliott to notice a pattern and figure out what the catch was.

No, he didn’t lower your pay. Come payment day you found that it was the same as in the last two weeks. No, the workload hadn’t suddenly increased. It was like the other times, and you had already gotten used to it at this point. No, the men didn’t try their luck with getting back at you somehow. Comments and looks here and there, but it didn’t seem like they were going to carry out anything big. The only notable difference was how Coogan did his best to not talk to you, when he could help it. Not like you were complaining.

But maybe some of those things would have been more preferable. Because when you realize what the catch was, how minor and inconvenient it would be to others, it quickly spiraled your mind with questions that had no answers to them.

Elliott Marston would take any opportunity that he saw fit to interact with you in some way.

The first two days, you paid no mind and thought it was even reasonable. You had gotten into a fight with one of his men after all. You figured this was just his way of making sure it didn’t happen again, or to show you “who was boss”. On these first two days, he was observing you more often than he had previously. Even coming up to you to talk about the work you were doing and going to be doing. This was something he did during the first few days of working for him, where he was directing you, but then he made his men give you orders after some time. If it was just this, you probably would have brushed it off.

But the third and fourth day was when you started to question his behavior. Sure, he’d watch you from afar, come up to speak about the work, same as before. But then there would be a few times throughout the day that he’d just… started talking to you.

At first, you thought he was just mulling to himself aloud. You never really caught into it on the third day, with being focused on your work. It was the fourth when you noted he said something when you walked by him to do another one of your tasks. You paid it no mind. It wasn’t until you had walked past him again a second time that you completely registered that he was talking to you. Not to himself . To you . And only then did you register how irregular that was. In the past, if you happened to walk by him, he wouldn’t say anything. Just a quick look and go back to whatever he was doing. Unless the heat was really getting to you, you never recalled him doing this before.

“I’m sorry, did you need me to do something?” You weren’t exactly kind in your tone like you were previously whenever you asked that question, in case you didn’t hear one of the workers on the ranch talk to you the first time. So, you figured he wanted you to do something, and you didn’t realize since you were so focused.

From his front porch leaning on one of his pillars, he studied you for a moment. Once again wearing that unreadable expression, which was even harder to see under his hat.

“You don’t seem to pay much attention to your surroundings when working.”

You didn’t know what to make of that… statement? It didn’t sound like a question, but you weren’t sure what kind of observation that was, besides an obvious one.

“I pay attention when something or someone needs my attention.” Was all you could offer, wanting to end the conversation soon.

“From what I was told, it seemed like the men didn’t need your attention when talking among themselves earlier this week.”

You didn’t even try to hide your annoyance when he said that.

“I was giving the two Aboriginal women you have on your grounds attention. He only got my full attention after his comments about my family,” You wiped off some of the dirt that had been forming on your clothes. Not like it mattered; they would get dirty again. “Was that all, or may I get back to work?”

Was it a bit stupid and dangerous to give him mouth even after he was gracious with allowing you to stay? Sure. But you couldn’t really give a damn. You wanted to earn your paycheck, and the sooner you could get through the days, the sooner you’d get it.

You expected him to continue on whatever else he had on his mind just to irritate you and regain control of the situation. Instead, he gave a quick, dismissive nod. And so, you left, wanting to put that interaction aside and focus on what you had left to do.

But it didn’t stop with that. From the fourth and fifth day he continued to do this every time you walked by him. He was still doing his previous routine of watching you from afar and coming up to you directly to tell you what to do. But now he would add these small comments if you happened to be nearby while doing your work. It wasn’t even about the fight at that point. He would make comments about anything. The particular gun he carried in his holster that day. Deserters that were still on the loose. The Australian land in general.

You gave curt replies because you just wanted to stay focused on your work. But even with the small amount of replies you did give he would somehow make do and continue on with whatever he was going on about. And not totally wanting to push your luck into waving him off without the risk of your job security, you decided to listen. You figured, if he was the one to initiate the conversation in the first place, then he shouldn’t be mad if hardly any work managed to get done that day. Plus, he was always on his porch when talking, and if the sun was angled right and you were standing in the correct position, the shade would cover you up. So more for your benefit, you listened.

…Admittedly, you found some of his topics interesting to listen to. In some ways that statement on being a student was correct. He sounded intelligent with what he had to say. Whenever he talked about America, he was correct on a number of things. But some areas you knew he wasn’t.

And maybe it was a mistake on your part for the following events that would occur, but you decided to contest the stuff he was wrong about on the fifth day.

“The tribes did uphold those treaty deals.” You said in response to how America would often negotiate treaties among the different tribal groups. “The only reason some of them were broken was because the army kept infesting their lands.”

He must’ve not expected you to say anything at all that weren’t just replies to end the conversation, as he looked at you with just a hint of being surprised.

“Where did you hear that nonsense?”

“That nonsense ,” You gave him a look. “I witnessed. When working on one of the farms in America the owner became close with one of the tribes nearby. They would make trades, giving them crops for some herbal medicine for his animals that got sick.”

You leaned one of those pillars facing more away from Elliott, who had been sitting nearby on a chair.

“The head of that tribe would come and talk about a treaty that had been going on that the military kept breaking. He wanted the farms’ owner to be a witness to one of these meetings, and I came along as I would often be the one making the deliveries to the camp.”

You shook your head as you looked down. You hadn’t noticed that Elliott stopped what he’d been doing, cleaning his gun, and gave his full attention to you.

“Didn’t matter though. The military didn’t listen to our testimonies of our firsthand accounts, where we knew they didn’t break it. They were disrespectful the whole time. The tribe was forced to move once the military took over it. Then the farm went to shit because they couldn’t get the medicine for the animals.”

You thought about the farmer and the tribe’s leader. You hoped they, and their families were doing good while you were down here. It was never easy for you to make connections with other people, with how they treated your parents. But they were one of the few that showed kindness to your troubles.

“The owner of the farm never got help from the military?”

You looked over at Elliott. For once, you could hear just the slightest indication of an emotion that wasn’t stern. He sounded like he cared about whatever happened to him.

You snapped out of that observation and shrugged. “Sometimes they tried to provide some medicine, with the exchange of us giving them some crops. But it didn’t work as well as the herbal medicine, so he stopped dealing with them all together. Didn’t make the army men happy but I don’t think he really cared all that much.”

He looked down, his brows furrowing a bit to the point where you could see a line forming between them. It was an indication he was in thought of the story you told. You noticed how he would often do this, trying to dissect and think about what it was people had said to him, and particularly with you. In a strange way, you found this… respectable, was the best your compliment for him was going to get. Most people don’t take the time to fully process what they or others say to them. Unless it was in the heat of the moment when he was having a quick and rushed discussion, he still took the time to consider what he was going to say, or what others said.

And you realized it wasn’t just in his words that he did this. You realized how he would do this for his actions. The way he moved had a certain precision about it. Even in a frazzled state that you would sometimes see him in there was still somehow an air of thought that surrounded his movements. You could see how he became a ranch owner and a skilled gunslinger; with the few times you saw him using his gun before. It made sense. In his line of work, he couldn’t afford to be careless.

You hadn’t realized how you were staring intently at him mulling this over until one of his men called you over for help getting control over a wild horse they found and wanted to tame. You blinked as you looked over, and quickly rushed from down the porch, wincing a bit as your ribs were still in pain. You must’ve spent too long in the shade because you instantly felt your face heat up as you jogged away from the porch and into the sunlight.

The sixth day followed this similar format, where he would talk to you by his porch when you were nearby. Whenever you did, something about it made you feel like you could challenge him a bit more. And for whatever reason, he allowed it, and would challenge you back. In this back and forth you would learn a few things more about his country and him with yours. He would learn about the city life you had, and he would talk about the ranch life. You didn’t know what to make of these conversations after the first few times.

And you found yourself doing something you hadn’t expected yourself to do at the start of the seventh day.

You made conversation with him first.

It was early enough in the morning, and you were already getting ahead in some areas, thanks to working a bit longer in the evening prior. You put some water on your face and noted Elliott leaving his home to check on his horse. He did this every morning, he never wanted anyone else to take care of his steed, Maverick as he called him.

But as he was walking down the steps and to the stables, you felt like his appearance was off. You couldn’t pinpoint how though. From where you were standing you were a great distance away from him, but even so, you could still tell something wasn’t right. As the sun got a bit higher, casting more light onto the ranch, and onto him, it suddenly hit you.

He wasn’t wearing all black attire. His vest was a deeper shade of a maroon.

You tried to think if he always had a vest like that. With how busy you were with your tasks, you could never really look at him all that much, other than when he was talking to you. Or when you could catch some conversations between him and his men. But at those times you could only recall him wearing something black. Sometimes it was a full black coat with a vest and white button up to contrast it. Other times it was just his black vest and white button up. Rarely did you ever see him without a vest. If he did always have this one, you never noticed until now.

So, you felt like you had to make a comment on it. It was rational to you. Besides, you already had to go and feed the animals that were close by anyway.

When you walked by carrying the scraps for the livestock while he was still tending to his horse, you said something.

“I thought you only dressed like the grim reaper.”

He stopped brushing his horse’s hair and looked over at you. His look of confusion was clear as day. You clarified as you kept feeding the animals.

“I didn’t think you even liked any other color other than black is what I mean.”

He took note of his vest now and seemed to ponder further with what you said.

“I’ve worn this vest before.” He replied.

“Well, I’ve only seen you wear black. I never noticed this vest.”

“Really.”

You didn’t catch how he didn’t frame it as a question, or how thoughtful he sounded. You were more focused on the idea that he could like other things, how implausible that seemed.

“I’m not sure how you could mostly wear black, when the sun is so damn hot.” You said it more to yourself than to him, trying to rationalize a common thought you had about his choice of clothing aloud.

“It’s proper attire that suits my character well.”

“For a funeral maybe.”

You didn’t realize how much you had gone back and forth on this singular topic on something so small. You didn’t even realize that as you were working, he would follow you to finish this conversation. Which delved into a conversation on what you liked to wear, which was whatever was practical, you were never too picky growing up. That led to him rationalizing that his clothing was practical in getting to his weaponry quickly. That led you to asking about what shooting a gun was like, and him explaining how even being an expert he still found himself closing his eyes as a reaction whenever it went off. Which made you think about the times that you did see him use his gun, and he was right.

Throughout the morning it went like this, him following you around with you never phasing in doing your work. At times he would need to leave and would excuse himself. But then he’d get back right to wherever the two of you left off. By midday you didn’t realize how exhausted you were. A bit odd, since you’ve never gotten tired this quickly before. By the afternoon, when it was time to send out letters by one of the workers who were already going into town for a supply run, he let you know the payment you were sending to your family and gave you the leftover percentage to you personally. Noting it was the same, you were going to help the rest of the workers in loading up some crates for their journey. But before you could, Elliott stopped you and told you to get into some shade because the last thing he wanted was to drag another worker out of the sun.

You didn’t realize this was the first time he allowed you to have a break. Because if you did, it would’ve been a bigger deal. But you were exhausted. So, you went to the lodge and crashed out for some time.

Upon waking up, you could see that the sun had started to go down. You tried to get your bearings on why you went to bed earlier than usual when you could hear two men talking outside to each other, as one of the windows was partially open. They seemed like they were in the middle of a conversation when they came near the lodge.

“-y arm must’ve pulled something when carrying the crates,” The voice, you could recognize to be Dobkin, groaned. “Should’ve gotten the rookie to do it.”

You immediately knew he was talking about you. He’d called you that before, with how you were one of the newer workers for the ranch, despite now being here for a couple of months. You were about to ignore it when the other voice, you placed to be O’Flynn, spoke next.

“If you did, you’d be cuttin’ into Mr. Martson’s ‘buddy’ time.” He snickered.

You perked up at that. What did he mean by “buddy time”?

“If the rookie has time to be talking with Mr. Marston, then the rookie can take the time to actually do some work.”

You had been doing work. That’s all you have been doing for these past few months. In your still tired state, you wondered why he would even phrase it like that.

“You think it’s odd too, right? How they talk to each other?” O’Flynn asked. “I mean, that weasel beats the shit out of Coogan, and Mr. Marston doesn’t do anything about it.”

“It’s none of my business what Mr. Marston decides to do.” Dobkin responded back. He groaned again. “Christ this arm. Let’s go find a bottle.”

“All I’m saying is,” O’Flynn said as Dobkin’s footsteps were walking away. “Either Mr. Marston is planning a proper funeral or a wedding.”

Their voices grew distant, and you thought about what they said. You knew O’Flynn was just being a little shit saying that last part. But your conversations with Elliott did give you a pause. You really thought about it for a moment as you laid on the cot, looking up at the ceiling.

The past few days he had been observing you more and interacting with you. He sought you out to talk to you, as if he wanted to. And you realized that didn’t make any sense. Here you are working at his ranch even after beating up a man and not holding back when speaking either. How was it that you were still standing and breathing even? As best as you could with your ribs.

And more importantly, you had engaged with him back. You talked with him. Today you even talked to him first. Why?

You rubbed your eyes, your face not hurting as much when you touched it. It didn’t make sense to you. His behavior toward you and yours to him. You tried to rest further. But as the others would come in and rest as well, as much as you closed your eyes, it was hard to sleep with the lingering questions still in your mind. It had gotten well into the night, but you decided that you couldn’t sleep and put on your work outfit just so you had something warm to be in when outside.

You went back to the spot you were at the last time you gazed at the stars, only you stood up this time, as if it would get you closer to them.

They were still as beautiful as ever. And while they brought you a sense of comfort, they couldn’t answer any of the questions you had. But even if they could, it’s not like they would know what to do in your shoes anyway. They could just be there to listen, and you figured that satisfied you enough. That, and you could simply appreciate their beauty.

It amazed you on what you’d missed out on. It was the one thing you could give Australia credit for. You’ve never seen anything like this. You didn’t even think you would ever see something like this.

You stood there, for how long you weren’t sure, just basking in the starlight. You thought about making this a thing to do every night, just looking at the stars. Though you worried it would end up losing its beauty, if you had too much of one good thing. Suddenly, your ears picked up the precise footsteps coming from behind. You could easily recognize them, and it brought you back to your dilemma and questions.

Like last time, he took the place by your left, only not as towering as he was when you were sitting down like before. Upon leaning his arms on the fence’s wooden planks, he nodded to himself in satisfaction. Then he looked out to where you had been looking, right at the stars.

He didn’t rush to say anything like he had when this first happened. He took the time to let the quiet set back in before he could break it. Which of course, he did eventually.

“You know, I’m not paying you to stargaze.” He spoke.

Of course he had to act like this was above him too.

“I’m not telling you to.” You replied back, not even looking at him.

“You couldn’t tell me what you could get paid for any-” He started to go on before you cut him off. You decided that the only way you were going to get answers to your questions was from him.

“Why have you been trying to talk to me?”

He seemed to act like this was the first time you were blunt with him, as if you hadn’t been talking to him bluntly ever since last week. It annoyed you even more. So you made that clear. 

“Don’t act like you don’t get why this confuses me. You’re smarter than that. I beat up one of your men, I talked back to you when you tried to talk to me about it. And even if this was to just uphold a deal with my cousin, you still go out of your way to try to talk to me when neither of us have any reason to.” 

You finally looked over to him. “Why?”

He didn’t say anything at first. Despite being in the dark, without his hat on, and being about three feet from him, you could make out his face. Once again, he kept studying you and seemed to be contemplating what he was going to say next. He turned his head back to the stars and seemed to be contemplating them as well. Like the answer was up there.

You didn’t sense any heaviness in the silence like the last time you both talked under the stars. You’d almost call it peaceful. At least, there were no warning signs yet of anything dangerous to come. So, you waited. And eventually he spoke.

“My mother used to talk about how the stars told stories.”

You gave him a quizzical look.

He must’ve seen your reaction, because he let out a very light chuckle. You realized then that this was the first time you heard any kind of laughter coming out of him. Or even a broader smile than his cocky smirk he would have on from time to time.

“Sounds completely ridiculous right? But she wasn’t wrong. Certain stars have formations that if you really looked closely enough with the right materials, you could see them. They’re called constellations. Each one relates back to a character in a story rooted in Greek mythology.”

You looked back up to the sky. Personally, you couldn’t see anything distinct about them, besides that they were all beautiful. You saw some clusters that were brighter than others, sure. Nothing that told you a story though.

“I always found that interesting,” He continued. “That if you observed and interacted with the stars long enough, they would tell you a story.”

He looked over at you, causing you to look over to him as well.

“I would like to know yours. And I hope you’d like to know mine.”

It was the first time he said anything like it was an offer, rather than a demand. Like he was giving you a say in the matter. And it was said in the same tone that you briefly caught when claiming that you didn’t have the right to make that judgement about how he wasn’t better than anyone. 

It sounded like sincerity, if you had to give it a name.

You had already thought he knew enough, what he needed to know before hiring you. That your family was in financial trouble, and you were the only one who could work and could do the work well. That was it, the gist of what your cousin said, though including more of the circumstances on why you were the only one working. You didn’t even think he wanted to know more. But you also found yourself more focused on the latter half of what he said. How he hoped you would get to know him.

And you really hadn’t thought you would want to get to know him more. Why would you? You felt like he made his character and who he was pretty clear.

But then again…

You realized just how much you were engaging back with him. The details you remembered about these past conversations between the two of you. You talked to him more within the past week than you had within the past months since you’ve been here.

Did you want to get to know him more?

Something about that question made your heart miss a beat. But you couldn’t explain why.

You looked back up to the stars. Like they would have an answer for you. Something. Anything. You tried to clear your head and with whatever thought popped up, whatever your gut instincts were telling you, you would go with it. You couldn’t see how your choice would screw you over if he was giving you the option.

And so, after taking a moment, that’s what you did. You went with whatever came to your mind first. With the stars being witnesses to it.

[mistressandry]

Emmrich isn't afraid of Death, he's afraid of Dying.

He can accept the death of others, because he thinks they deserve to be mourned. He struggles to extend the same grace to himself.

He has constantly strived to be meaningful in the world, but does not think he has lived fully. His fears of cutting his time short are what keep him from taking the risks he would need to achieve that.

He struggles with Manfred's death, because he viewed him as an extension of himself. Manfred was his legacy; Curious and loving, but uninhibited by fears.

Ellie has accepted her death, but struggles with the death of others. She has not done right by them. There would have been more ways she could have been there for them. A stream of hypotheticals on how she could have made their lives nicer. It is impossible for her to do enough.

Death makes it easier to care. Knowing every moment is uncertain brings more gratitude. Legacy is kindness you put in the world and the hope that it ripples. But just like life, your influence fades and that is ok as well.

One day we will all be forgotten. Just do your best today.

[effei-s]

[tserriednich & neon; foils]

"papa once said that the one who knows the future owns the world. let's put his theory to the test." 

"you want the eyes? i'll gift them all to you. after the voyage is over." just like papa, tserr wants not only a monopoly on her gift but a whole world, to squeeze it in the palm of his hand and crush it like an overripe fruit, make it bleed. 

"and the head? without it, my collection won't be complete." the things you do for the people you love. 

"if you dance." tserr nudges her. neon's entire life is one endless list of rental contracts; unique gift, a true blessing, priceless on paper, a long-fixed price-tag in reality. miracle for sale. 

"so that later you could justify a politically motivated murder with my name?" any long-term relationship, friendship especially, with someone like him is impossible without knowledge in art. it's nothing but a lucky coincidence for them both to be interested in a very niche type; private collections formed around humanity's cruel nature, devoted to the darkest corners of the human soul; events, large-scale or not, full of relics ready to be picked up; cold-blooded murders and hunger riots, revolutions and hundred-years-long wars, reformations and plagues, corpses embalmed so skillfully that they seemed alive, fragments of skeletons yellowed by time, all equally valuable, left for them to find and collect, to give the dead a second life.  

"i don't need justifications for murder." tserr is a fair decade older than her, has enough eloquence to convince even his own brother that his love for art is a reflection of his philanthropist nature, his humanity. the only worthy member of the royal family. a gabon viper hiding among the foliage. "still, just imagine your portrait by the caravaggios of our time." 

"i prefer the way dolci* saw her." neon has been playing poker since she was eleven; she's perfectly able to keep a neutral expression on her face, especially when she's face to face with someone capable of absolutely heinous doings, especially when she tells him no. 

"dolci it is then. i'll find you one. there's a reason why kakin is primarily known for advanced technologies and artists." intellectual revolution meets high renaissance, sprinkled with religious persecutions and organized crime. what a country. 

"i have a better offer: a head for a saved life. trust me, i'm a far better poet than a dancer." 

*Salome with the Head of St John the Baptist by Carlo Dolci 

[time-to-write-and-suffer]

Writers who post their original work online for free (or free with paid bonus stuff/faster updates)!

Is it worth it? Is it fun? Do you get good feedback? Can you leave links below so I can read it?

[effelants]

Sanguine

is a loosely canonical chronicle of the events of Dragon Age: Origins with an F!Amell/Alistair pairing featuring a canon-bending Warden, which results in some familiar situations resolved in unfamiliar ways.

It is fully pre-written (by myself, over the course of the past seven years) and fully illustrated (by the exceptional @vjatoch), and is being published in a serial format with weekly updates.

CHAPTER 30

in which Alistair realizes he's made a serious error in judgment.

Read chapter 30 on AO3!

Start from the beginning!

Sign up for the tag list by commenting below to get tagged on weekly update posts on tumblr! Alternatively, you can follow the tag #ssfp sanguine!

Tag List:

❀ @warpedlegacy @rakshadow @bluewren @breninarthur

❀ @ar-lath-ma-cully @dreadfutures @ir0n-angel @inquisimer @crackinglamb

❀ @theluckywizard @oxygenforthewicked @exalted-dawn-drabbles @melisusthewee @blarrghe

❀ @agentkatie @delicatefade @leggywillow @plisuu @hekaerges

❀ @queenaeducan-writes @volkoss

❀ @skinwalkingxana @raflesia65 @gflscer

[jimmyjrsmusoems]

jimmy jr. has referenced movies multiple times (the exorcist, gremlins, save the last dance, etc) and tina obviously bases a lot of her erotic friend fictions on movies (grease, blade runner, the one with the cars that she clearly hadn’t seen and i haven’t either, etc) so i like to think that eventually they have lots of cute little movie night dates :) like it’s a weekly tradition or something

[breathlessboy]

Shameless.

Synopsis: This time, Lance has him in his own room; his own bed. His flawlessly smooth and strong hands have him pinned to the mattress, and Keith can't remember how long it's been since they'd stumbled in here blind and drunk on anticipation.

He's loud. He's unrestrained. Keith is utterly shameless, and he just wants Lance to ruin him for anyone else.

A mere peak into the thought process of one Keith Kogane as he gets his brains fucked out by his right hand man.

Read it on Ao3 here.

[scuderia-hamilton]

people saying that DTS is ruining the sport while WAG culture is a thing… let me talk 😤

[marsdemo]

i love reading old zines ive written and being like "i literally dont even agree w this anymore"