#excerpt ask game

[kalolasfantasyworld]

Hiya Lola! For the ask game, can I get 3 and 16 pls? ^^

Hi Laura! 💕

Yes of course you can 😁

3. Once again Nozel takes Helena to see the sea for the first time

16. The little Silver Eagles birdies one shot (I love it so much ^^)

3. That encompasses my style

Another part from when Nozel takes Helena to see the sea for the first time -> chapter 21 again

“What is it?” She asked, but Nozel did not answer. He just stared at her.

She made a fews steps towards, him and got out of the water. Her toes were getting too cold anyway. The sand stuck to her feet, when she approached Nozel. She halted in front of him and looked up. Her deep, dark eyes mesmerised and curious. Helena’s lips were a bit redder than usual.

Nozel not saying anything lifted his arms and grabbed the sides of her head scarf. He gently unwrapped it and pulled it off her head, letting her hair loose. He folded it and placed it on their cloaks. They gazed into each others’ eyes in silence. The dark brown and light purple intertwined.

“Thank you for taking me here,” Helena whispered. “We managed to be on time for the sunset.”

Nozel put a strand of her hair behind her ear and his palm stayed on her face. Helena shivered. He leaned in and placed a slow kiss on her lips. The Silva pendant, which hung from his braid brushed her cheek. Helena responded, but putting her palms on his chest and clutching his mantle.

They felt free. Out in the open, not worried about anyone seeing them. It was just the two of them. Not the Princess Helena Drazel of the Diamond Kingdom, or Prince Nozel Silva, the captain of the Silver Eagles, but two people who were happy to be together. They were not bothered by their past, or responsibilities.

“I wish it could always be like that,” Nozel spoke up for the first time in a while. His voice was quiet and he looked down.

16. From a recent piece I want to brag about

The little Silver Eagles birdies one shot ^^ again The beginning of it this time with a tiny bit of Helena, because the rest is Nozel, Heinry and Noureen focused

Helena was fixing Heinry’s mantle. He needed to tilt his head back, so that she could straighten out the frills of the high neck. A silver Silva pendant was attached right below. It was quite a challange because Heinry was excitedly bouncing up and down. Nozel watched them fondly, before shifting his gaze to Noureen. His other son was sitting on his bed and dangling his legs. The expression on his face was focused and his little nose wrinkled. His red mantle had already been fixed by Helena, so he was just waiting. 

“Now you’re ready,” she announced and stood up, on her way ruffling Heinry’s silver hair. “Are you sure, that you’ll be fine?” Helena turned towards Nozel. “Their nannies could watch over them and I’m sure Rosetta would love to play a little bit with her sobrinos (nephews).”

“Yes, I am sure,” he stated flatly quirking his brow. “Weren’t you supposed to leave ten minutes ago?” 

“I’m certain that Doctor Owen can start the meeting without me,” Helena put her hands on her hips. 

“Without the vice head of the Healer’s tower?” 

“Stop being witty,” she huffed and leaned down towards her two little birdies. “Are you one hundred percent sure, that they won’t interrupt you with your work?”

“They’re future Silver Eagles, they should see how everything is being handled at the base,” Nozel stated. 

“They’re four mi amor,” Helena sighed.

“Four and a half mama,” Heinry corrected her.

“Yes four and a half hijo,” she said and grabbed him by the hand. They both approached Noureen. “Heinry, Noureen will you be good? You can’t distract papa from work, promise? Listen to everything he says.”

“I’m alway good,” Heinry grinned wildly. 

“Sure you are,” Helena did not sound convinced. “Noureen?” 

The brown haired boy nodded. 

“Are you excited as well?” She asked.

Noureen smiled shyly and then once again nodded, this time more energetically. “Okay,” Helena smiled and stood up. “Have fun my Silver Eagles,” she waved at them, grabbed her bag and very quickly left the room, because indeed she was late and Helena preferred to be on time. She would always say this was a matter of respect. 

Her white tailcoat only fluttered behind her before the door closed. 

Nozel crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes. 

One, two, three.

The door opened once again and Helena ran inside. She knelt down in front of Heinry and pulled him in pressing a kiss on his cheek. The silver haired boy giggled excitedly. She then turned to Noureen and tried to peck hims as well, but he pulled away. 

“Bleh!” He screeched. 

“Everyone gets a kiss,” Helena announced. 

“Everyone?” Noureen pouted. “Okay,” he sighed and leaned forward. A small blush spread on his cheek, before Helena pecked him. 

She stood up and approached Nozel. 

“Everyone gets a kiss,” she brightened up and put her hands on his chest, digging her fingers into his feathery mantle. He closed his eyes and felt her grip on harder as she leaned in closer. Her sweet perfume becoming more apparent.

“Blehhh!” Heinry and Noureen both shouted and startled them before Helena managed to kiss him. 

Giving both of his four year olds’ a side eye was probably not one of Nozel’s greatest moments. He straightened up and his expression became flat. Helena just chuckled glancing at them fondly. 

“A short peck then,” she stated and quickly pressed her lips on to his. He did not even get to savour the moment, because she pulled away and was already running towards the door. “Bye muchachos, don’t be a nuisance to papa.” With that she was gone, off to the Healer’s tower.

[boltlightning]

with writer ask games i'm usually just trying to coyly share snippets, so allow me to introduce a new one:

send me a number and i'll share an excerpt of my writing...

that makes me smile

that makes me laugh

that encompasses my style

with dialogue i'm proud of

with description i'm proud of

that i struggled with, but triumphed over

that i nursed in a daydream before finally writing

that hurt my own feelings to write

with characters i love

with characters i struggle with

with characters i want to write more in the future

that has a particularly good bit of characterization

that helped me understand a character better

that was out of my comfort zone

from an old piece that i like

from a recent piece i want to brag about

from an unpublished WIP

from that one WIP everyone has that has no plot, just vibes

from that project that was SUPPOSED to be short but then i kept writing and now it is very long

from a scrapped project

that i liked, but had to cut

that is so blissfully self-indulgent

that was inspired by a work from another medium (music, visual art, dance, etc.)

that makes me go "huh...i wrote that?!"

that i consider a favorite

please feel free to rb <3

[theresthesnitch]

For word game:

Sweetheart ❤️❤️

Ohhhh okay, yes. So, this is a fic that I talked about a long time ago and never finished. Pithy title "Remus wrong text Effie." Unfortunately, also potentially abandoned. Longer snippet for context.

(Send me a random word and I'll find where I've written it!)

~~~

Remus: Hey Mom. I’m missing you a lot today. It’s Thanksgiving, you know. This is the third I’ve had without you. Do you remember the year that you taught me to make stuffing? I wish I had paid more attention. I’ve been trying to make it again, but I just can’t quite get it right. I’ve got some that I’m going to eat with a turkey sandwich in your honor. I love you. I miss you. Mom: Oh, darling. I’m not your mom, but I’m sorry you’re missing her. Remus: Oh, shit. Sorry. I didn’t know they’d given her number away. Remus: I won’t send a message again. Not Mom: Sweetheart, do you have somewhere to go today? Remus: I’ll be fine. Not Mom: Honey, I’m a mother myself, and I would hope that someone would ask my boys the same question. So really, do you have somewhere to go? Remus: No, ma’am. Not Mom: Let me send you our address. We sit down to eat at 2 pm. You’re welcome to bring your stuffing if you want, but we’ve got plenty of food. Remus: How can I be sure that this isn’t some sort of scam to human traffic me or something? Not Mom: <image of a woman with salt and pepper hair pulled into a bun with an apron that says “Life is what you Bake it” smiling at the camera> Not Mom: My name is Euphemia Potter, but you can call me Mia. Remus: <image of a boy with curly hair and freckles looking shyly at the camera> Remus: My name is Remus. Remus Lupin. Mia: You look about the same age as my sons. I’m sure they’ll be happy to meet you. Remus: Are you sure it’s okay to come? Mia: We’ll see you this afternoon, Remus. Remus: Thanks, Mia. Remus: Um Remus: Sorry about saying shit. Remus: And saying it again. Mia: It’s okay, dear. Mia: Sometimes you just have to get the shit out.

[tilion-writes]

Very intrigued by the title "By Glory We Are Denied". Care to share more?

Of course, thank you!

This is a lyric from “Thorn” by Blind Guardian, which is about Maeglin, so naturally this is a Maeglin fic. It’s about Celebrimbor seeking out Maeglin in Mandos, trying to connect with him as a way of healing from the nightmare of his later years. Maeglin’s mistrustful at first, and he doesn’t understand why Celebrimbor feels a kinship with him, of all people. And Celebrimbor is absolutely determined to befriend him. 

It's angsty, but there'll be some healing in store eventually (for both of them). Lots of brooding about hubris and and deceit and doom and all that. (And daddy issues. Lots of daddy issues.)

Excerpt:

“Celebrimbor?” he said. “Curufin’s son?”

A wry twist of the mouth. “Unfortunately.”

“You would call me cousin?” said Maeglin, unable to keep himself from sounding skeptical.

“You are . . . ah, let me think . . . my second half-cousin on my father’s side; my father and your mother are half-cousins,” said Celebrimbor, which—really hadn’t been Maeglin’s point. “And your grandmother Anairë is my mother Ancaraitë’s second cousin, so on my mother’s side, you are my . . . third cousin once removed?”

“. . . What?” said Maeglin.

Celebrimbor tilted his head. “You are my cousin Maeglin, are you not?” he said. “Maeglin, son of Aredhel?”

“I am.”

“Then you and I,” said Celebrimbor quietly, holding his piercing gaze in a way few ever manage to, “have something in common.”

“Smithing,” Maeglin guessed. “Odd fashion sense. Disappointing our fathers.”

“Something that far less people have in common with us than that.”

“. . . Oh,” said Maeglin, reading the guilt on his face. “Oh, you didn’t.”

[lqtraintracks]

For the Word excerpt ask: 'frog' or 'rainbow' :)

Elise. I fucking love you for giving me FROG. Lmao! This is a(n overly long) snippet from the end of Shiny Things, Slightly Damaged. It may enrich the reading to know that earlier in the story (they’re eighth years) Draco witnessed a first-year getting Harry’s signature on his chocolate frog card. Thus this is the second instance of the word frog in this story. ;) They’re at a room at the Hog’s Head for this, just to set the mood.

It’s late, and they haven’t turned on any lights, but there’s a moon. Malfoy’s skin gleams silver under its light. He’s naked. They both are. They’re sharing the bed, lying on their sides, facing each other.

Ten minutes earlier, Malfoy was riding Harry’s cock, his head thrown back, arse pounding down hard. He came on Harry’s chest, and Harry came inside him, again.

It’s still a little unreal, even though they started fucking only a month after the war ended. Harry couldn’t tell you how or why they started, only that it happened. That one day, returning Malfoy’s wand to him, he saw that stupid, arrogant look in his eye and it was either fight him or… this. To his shock, when he gripped Malfoy hard and breathed in his face, Malfoy chose this, and kissed Harry’s lips raw.

It would have been just the once. Maybe. Except that a week later Harry saw Malfoy coming out of the office of the Mind Healer next door to his own, eyes red and puffy, chin jutting out at seeing Harry there. They’d passed each other quickly, without words. But that night, Malfoy had shown up on the pavement outside Grimmauld, just wandering back and forth—before Harry opened the wards and the door to him, and pulled him roughly inside.

It’s not something that should have happened. Certainly not something that should keep happening. But it does. Because neither of them stops it. Because both of them seek it out in the other. They pretend they have no choice. It’s so much simpler that way.

“What?” Malfoy asks, studying Harry’s face.

“Mm. Nothing. Just thinking we should get back soon.”

Harry hasn’t told his Mind Healer about shagging Malfoy. He wonders if Malfoy’s told his. Not likely, Harry thinks. Which tells him plenty about the viability of what they’re doing. If they could keep it secret from each other, they probably would.

Malfoy scoots closer, his knee between Harry’s, his hand encircling Harry’s cock.

“Again?” Harry asks, a crooked smile pulling at his lips.

Malfoy looks down at the cock swelling as he strokes it, then back up at Harry. “You tell me.” Then, “If you don’t want to, I’ll just wank myself off to your chocolate frog card.”

Harry cannot, absolutely cannot, suppress a mad bubble of laughter at that.

Just as he can’t not notice that Malfoy’s getting hard again too, just from touching him.

Harry moves into his body, takes a firm grip on him as well. Malfoy gasps.

“One more,” says Harry.

And already thrusting his hips into it, Malfoy breathes, “Just one more.”

[tackytigerfic]

sorry i'm late with this, mate! - For the word ask game: 'tradition'

Never too late for you, mo chroí! Thank you babes, I found one WIP with this word. It's a forced marriage bond fic where the divide between Muggle and magical worlds is being eroded. Draco and Harry have to go on the run with Dudley and his magical baby. This is just after the marriage bond is performed.

It’s grotesque,” Potter said, and his voice was scratchy with horror. “Who would want to do that to me?”

“They tried to kill you before,” Draco replied, before he remembered that he probably wasn’t supposed to know about that. “And stop moaning. You're safe now—" because of me, he wanted to say, but didn't "and bonding spells are totally normal in Pureblood betrothals. It’s practically tradition.”

Potter’s face worked at that, with that same ridiculous open play of emotions that he had never grown clever enough to hide. 

“I hate you, you know,” he told Draco in a conversational tone. “You disgust me. And your Pureblood traditions disgust me. And I’m going to break this bond if it kills me.”

Draco was so, so tired. 

“It’s not you it’s going to kill if you break it,” he said over his shoulder as he headed towards the bathroom, hating the low tug of Potter’s magic that accompanied him, demanding and insidious as it curled somewhere around his heart.

[landwriter]

am sick in bed with nothing to do but sleep and read, come to my rescue and send me some asks &/or prompts?

[columboscreens]

I hope it isnt rude or presumptuous of me to barge in and vent, but I'd love to hear your thoughts on Columbos family. I just finished "no time to die" and I can't get over how bad that episode was. Maybe its me and my headcanons getting in the way but No Way is he from a family of cops. And not a single one of them sounds like they're Italian or new yorkers the blasphemy! To me that mans from an Jewish immigrant family, and proud of it.

combined with:

yeah the whole "family of cops" thing in no time to die came off as cheesy, contrived 90s copaganda, so i just kind of ignore it. it's hardly canon, so feel free to do the same! i picture columbo with a big, loud, italian family myself, in which he's just about the only cop.

I will say though, i actually totally agree that he comes off as more jewish than not. columbo is, in canon, a good little italian boy married to a catholic woman, so the natural assumption is that he, too, is catholic. but peter falk was a very organic, naturalistic actor--as a student of sanford meisner, his primary acting imperative was to live and behave truthfully to the self under imaginary circumstances. so for someone who was barely religious himself in the way "cultural jews" tend to be...

what i'd pay to hear the words "had the fuckin bar mitzvah'" come out of that man's mouth

...to me, falk's "truthful self" is just so jewish to his core that, because he puts so much of himself into the character, it bleeds clean through to columbo, and we get all these jewish mannerisms out of the supposed catholic! (jews, of course, have a rich and historic presence in italy, so there's no preclusion on that front.)

once you notice the little things, you can't stop. his phrasings, his gestures, the ways he interacts with others, his boiled eggs, his gastrointestinal sensitivity, even his sense of humor.

chag pesach sameach

there are, of course, more substantial pieces of evidence than ordering chinese food for his extended family or needing an antacid every time he eats too quickly. i'm not jewish myself, but i grew up in a very jewish neighborhood, had more jewish than gentile friends growing up, and my partner of seven years is jewish. to me, what really codes columbo as a jewish man is how well he embodies many aspects of specifically jewish ethos.

being honorable, sensitive, and humble, he's the ideal mensch. one tenet strongly prioritized in judaism is tzedek, or one's ethical obligation to righteousness, equity, and compassion. he is both moved by suffering and tenaciously committed to justice.

jews hold the deepest respect for both religious and civil law, and you will note that columbo is neither an outsider nor a vigilante--he is a sanctioned agent of the legal system respecting and following the process of the law in his pursuit of murderers. he functions within it, sometimes in spite of it, but not outside of it. when he gets creative, he toes, but never quite crosses the line.

he thinks for himself and thus has a strong moral compass; he treats everyone with kindness and empathizes readily with individual struggle. he is patient, courageous, and clever--all particularly valued qualities in judaism.

(rakish semitic looks aside)

paramount is columbo's intellectual curiosity, love of learning, and propensity to question, which is, too, seen as fundamental to a faith built entirely on asking questions. whether he's gently yet methodically poking holes in a suspect's alibi or wondering how much a random stranger paid for his shoes, he never has a shortage of them. he's a little guy bursting with chutzpah, perfectly at home both asking a prime suspect if he can have a closer look at his hand, and God Himself to spare sodom and gomorrah if he can only find a few good people...

if you really needed any further evidence that he's God's Chosen...

[skeptiquewrites]

For the excerpt game: gaze, rain, or truth, your choice x

Thank you Magpie 💖

For gaze, from Four Seasons, one of my personal favourites.

Malfoy’s gaze flicked up from the group argument about whether the duelling had been difficult or not, and met Harry’s. His eyes narrowed briefly with an expression Harry couldn’t read before he slipped out the front door. He’d left his coat behind in the teetering pile on the barstool, so he wasn’t going home yet, at least.

Harry waited a moment before following Malfoy out into the cold.

He stood out front, flicking open the top of an old fashioned lighter with a sharp click and closed it again. No cigarettes in sight, nor did he seem to be reaching for one. Their breath misted in the crisp night.

“Hi,” Harry said.

“Potter,” Malfoy acknowledged. Click. Close. The streetlight gleamed in his hair and Draco tilted his face upwards into the night air. Harry knew by now that it meant something that he found him interesting.

[shamedumpster]

Flashback dream (or anything about the INtSA universe 🥺) for the tag game

🥺🥺🥺 of course!! Okay, so. This one is titled "mini-fic", but I titled that when I still thought it'd be, like, a one-shot under 5k. Right now it's sitting at 25k and 3 chapters instead, so as you can see it kind of got away from me.

In summary, Enjolras wakes up in his high school bedroom, somehow transported back a decade. He doesn't understand why or how this is happening, and has to work out how to wake himself up from this weird, hyper-realistic dream he's stuck in, all the while living through the last few days before Grantaire left the ABC.

An excerpt is below!

Unfortunately, when he gets to the hall outside Ms. Houcheloup’s classroom, the only person there is Combeferre. Enjolras remembers a moment too late that his own bus is one of the earliest to get to school. Since Grantaire drives, he supposes he’d been hoping he’d get here early, if he’d found himself in the same situation as Enjolras had this morning. 

He must not do a good job of hiding how he deflates to only find Combeferre, because Combeferre, who’d looked up to wave at him, stops mid gesture and frowns.

“Good morning,” he says, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose with the knuckle of his index finger, “Am I not who you wanted to see?”

Enjolras feels his stomach sink just a little more at the fact that Combeferre is acting how he should. That’s one person not currently not experiencing reality the way he is. Fantastic. 

“I—Sorry,” Enjolras apologizes, moving to lean against the same wall as Combeferre, hands absently playing with the strap of his bag, “I need to talk to Grantaire. I was hoping he’d be here.”

“...Why?” Combeferre asks, dubious, but clearly trying to hide the extent of his confusion. 

“Why what?” Enjolras asks. 

“Why do you want to talk to Grantaire, and why did you think he would be here?” Combeferre clarifies, raising his eyebrows.

He doesn’t really have a good answer to either of those questions. Not if Combeferre doesn’t remember the last decade. Enjolras mentally kicks himself, and looks down the hall as a distraction, as if Grantaire will just materialize there if he wills it. 

“Did he do something?” Combeferre asks, suddenly sounding concerned and a little resigned, like a parent who knows he’s going to have to pull over to stop his kids from fighting. 

“No,” Enjolras replies, perhaps a little too quickly, half defensive, for Grantaire’s sake, and half panicked. He swallows, reminding himself to act as normally as possible, “He didn’t do anything. I just need to ask him something.”

Combeferre’s eyebrows just go higher at that. 

“Well…I doubt he’ll even get here before the bell,” he says, slowly, “He’s been late all week. You might just have to wait until the meeting this afternoon.”

Enjolras sighs, and lets his head thunk back against the wall behind him, frustrated. 

If Combeferre finds it strange, he doesn’t press him, and Enjolras appreciates it, taking a moment to just think, and then gather himself. 

If this dream were normal, this is where he’d probably zoom ahead to the action, but apparently he’s not that lucky. He feels every minute of the morning wait, chatting idly with Combeferre and figuring out his class schedule as subtly as he can as their other friends slowly filter in, and the hall gets more crowded before the first bell. 

It’s weird seeing all the people outside of the ABC that he didn’t keep in contact with after high school. He recognizes the faces, but doesn’t remember the names, aside from a few exceptions. There’s just, ‘that boy I had to do a group project with’, ‘that nice girl that gave me candy for Valentines day, once’, ‘the homophobe’, faces with memories but no names.

When he’s not quietly people-watching, or chatting with friends as they roll up, tired but talkative, he’s checking his phone’s clock and looking down the hallway in the direction he knows Grantaire will come, if his memory is to be trusted. “What’s up with him?” he hears Courfeyrac murmur to Combeferre after Enjolras looks up, then sighs, seeing it’s only Marius turning the corner and heading towards them. 

“He’s waiting for Grantaire,” Combeferre says, keeping his voice low. 

“...Why? What'd he do this time?” Courfeyrac asks, and Enjolras turns to them, his face pinched in frustration. 

“I’m right here, Courf, you could just ask me,” he says, trying not to snap. Courf just smiles, holding up his hands in surrender. 

“Sorry, sorry, you just seemed out of it,” he replies, “Weird morning?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Enjolras mutters, rubbing a hand over his face, then pinching the bridge of his nose. Combeferre and Courfeyrac just glance at each other, eyebrows raised, but apparently decide to drop it a moment later, when Courf perks up again, looking down the hallway. 

“Hey, R!” he calls, waving, and glancing at Enjolras, whose head immediately shoots up again, intent on the end of the hall.  

The hallway is bustling now; they’re only maybe a minute away from the bell ringing, so it’s packed with students getting where they’re going, and chatting with friends, or pulling things from some lockers on the other side of the hall. 

It takes Enjolras a few seconds to find Grantaire in the sea of people, not just because it’s packed, but because he’d looked out expecting to find R as he knows him, not R as he used to be. 

When his eyes finally find him, he has to do a double take. It’s not that he doesn’t remember how Grantaire used to look. It’s just startling to see so clearly how much of a change there’s been over the last decade. 

The Grantaire he knows still dresses down most of the time, but his clothes fit him decently enough, and he holds himself with a reserved kind of confidence. 

It’s jarring to see him like this again: tired, and slouchy, in clothes that don’t fit right. There’s a hunched-in quality to the way he stands, accentuated by the fact that his worn green jacket is at least two sizes too big. Grantaire’s unkempt hair springs out from the edge of a grey beanie, and heavy bags stick purple under his eyes. 

He looks exhausted. A bone-deep kind of tired from days or weeks of insomnia, as Enjolras now knows.

Grantaire looks up when Courfeyrac calls out, sticking on a lazy smile and waving back. 

He starts to walk to where Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta are huddled, sitting in a pile against the wall, either not noticing or ignoring on purpose the way Enjolras is staring. 

[kalolasfantasyworld]

Lola dear, I can’t believe I missed your excerpt game 😢 I saw your masterlist which was wonderful, but I was sorry I didn’t get to send in an ask. I understand if you’ve wrapped it up, but if you’re still taking them can I have excerpts for 7 and 25, please? No pressure though. ^^ Thank you!! 💕

Hi Acacia! 

I would call you missing my game a happy accident, because now I can post excerpts specifically from today’s chapter 31 (which I love). So those who wants to read it without spoilers, go on Ao3 instead reading these. 

Thank you for your nice words and looking through my master list <3 I’ll add these two there as well. 

Also these are specifically from this chapter, because well further down the story some other things happen which I love as well. But La Puesta del Sol was very much a daydream, which had multiple versions along the way.

7. Nozelena dance

25. Jealous Nozel and a bit more…

7. That I nursed in a daydream

Nozelena dance 

Because she just has to poke at his ego, they banter, their energy is just precious and so funny

Helena fixed her cover up and put a messy strand of her hair, behind her ear. She approached him and smiled brightly. 

“Do you want to dance, mi amor?” She asked.

“No,” his answer was flat. 

She did not expect to get so brutally turned down. She pouted.

“What do you mean by saying no?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“I don’t dance,” Nozel stated. His lilac eyes met with hers and made her feel warm inside. “Simple as that.”

Helena furrowed her brows. She needed to step up her game.

“You don’t dance? Or you can’t dance?” Poking at his ego was always a good option to get him to do something. 

“I’m a prince,” he said sharply and narrowed his eyes. “Of course I can dance.”

“Riiiight…” Helena continued and pretended to not take him seriously.

“I can,” he said annoyed. 

“Oh really?” Helena asked. “Then why won’t you?”

“This kind of dancing,” he pointed towards the people swaying their hips freely, “is not fitting to my Royal status.”

“Yet here we are at a party for high ranking nobles,” Helena tiled her head, “and guess what? They’re all dancing so barbarically.”

He pressed his lips together, because he could not find a fitting argument.

“Okay I get it,” Helena raised her arms in a surrendering way. “You won’t dance, because you’re too embarrassed that you can’t do it,” she began turning away. “I’m going to go back to Solid and Nebra.”

She felt a tug on her hand. She smiled to herself proudly. Mission accomplished. His long fingers wrapped around her wrist. Helena turned back to face him.

“I can dance,” he spoke slowly.

“Prove it,” she grinned.

He sighed and led her towards the outer side of the dance floor. Nozel was already completely aware that she had played him, but would not say anything. They both knew that he was going to give in one way or another. However obviously he needed to play hard to get.

They halted and Nozel approached her closely. She looked up at him and smiled, when she saw how determined his expression looked. His silver braid hung over her. He placed his left palm on her back and Helena felt a tingle go down her spine. With the other one he grabbed her hand. She let him pull her closer. 

Slowly they began to sway and move forwards and backwards. Despite the song having a positive and melodic beat, the story it told was not a happy one. Helena and Nozel were completely not in synch with the music, since he was leading her to a classical ballroom dance, but Helena did not care. She was overjoyed Nozel held her in his arms and was dancing with her. She looked at him with adoration. Love. That’s what she was feeling and it was wonderful. This whole time he was softly gazing at Helena.

Suddenly Nozel furrowed his brows.

“We truly don’t match the atmosphere of this party,” he stated.

“I told you, that this kind of dancing is different,” she chuckled and he smiled softly. “I can teach you,” Helena offered.

“Teach me?” Nozel raised his brows.

“Yes, you mi amor,” Helena pulled him towards herself a bit more energetically and he elegantly followed. “You have to use your hips more.”

“I can think of some other situations, when I can use my hips,” his tone was dead serious, but there was a playful, predatory glint in his eye.

Helena felt her cheeks get furiously red. Normally she probably would not had reacted this badly. However since she was actually considering, whether she was ready to have her first time with him, the comment made her imagine things. 

“Stop it!” Helena exclaimed from embarrassment and he smirked. “I meant while dancing,” she swayed her hips to the rhythm. “Like this.”

He nodded and did his best to follow her movement, while stepping respectively back and forth. He was not doing bad and Helena loved to see the focused expression on his face. 

She felt so happy, that when the song ended she wanted to pretend it did not. Nozel let go of her, while at the same time Nebra and Solid approached them. 

“I can’t believe it,” Nebra laughed. “You actually got Nozel nii-sama to dance with you.”

“I thought, that it was impossible,” Solid stated and grinned.

“What can I say?” Helena smiled and Nozel rolled his eyes. “I’m a miracle worker.”

25. That I consider my favorite

Jealous Nozel and a bit more…

I like this one, because he’s obviously jelly, but also how I wrote it and Helena’s emotions at the end. Overall this scene feels kind of important, but in a lighter tone.

It was awkward. The uncomfortable tension between the two men was visible. Nozel was not used to anyone standing up to him, while Rafael was a high born noble, who would not buckle down at his own estate. However he had a smile plastered on to his face and made a friendly impression. Nozel did not. 

They were silent for so long, that Nebra probably had already gotten her drink.

“We were talking about our parents,” Rafael began to speak, “and overall about Helena’s heritage.”

“Her mother comes from here,” Nozel stated. “I am aware of such things.”

“Yes,” Helena came between them. “Can you believe it, that she knew Rafael’s father?”

“Obviously,” Nozel said flatly. “She’s from high standing Noble family, just like the Delgado house. The circles are tight around here, so everyone knows each other,” he was unimpressed and did not share her enthusiasm.

“Still,” she put her hands on her hips. “I think, that it’s exciting for me to talk about it.”

They stared at each other for a moment. None of them was letting it go. 

“Excuse me,” Rafael cut in. He scratched the back of his neck and turned to face Helena. “I was wondering, whether you would want to come tomorrow for dinner to the Delgado familia. I’m sure that mi papa would love to meet you.” A soft blush appeared on his cheeks. “I know that this may be a bit sudden, but if you wanted to spend some time before that, go on a walk or something, let me know.”

Was he seriously asking her out in front of Nozel? The ridiculousness of this situation reached its peak. Helena felt extremely uncomfortable and did not know how to react.

“No,” Nozel said sharply and stepped in front of her. On one hand she was surprised by his reaction, but on the other she did not mind. Actually it felt good to see him this protective and a little jealous. She smiled softly gazing up at her lover.

Rafeal looked between them confused, but then he noticed Nozel’s protective stance and Helena’s small expression. His eyes widened in realisation. 

“Oh I did not know that the two of you were together,” he spoke sheepishly. “Me disculpo. (I apologise)”

Nozel drastically tensed. It was the first time since they had started secretly dating, that anyone openly suspected them to be a couple. Helena did not know what to say either. Would they start publicly courting as of this moment? Because admitting it to the heir of the high ranking house Delgado meant that every noble would find out.

Suddenly Nebra and Solid approached. The princess was holding a pink cocktail in her hand. She began to laugh. 

“Are you kidding me?” She chuckled. “These two are both very single.”

“Yeah,” Solid added. “As if Nozel nii-sama had time and desire for such silly things as dating.” 

The Silver Eagle’s captain collected himself. He cleared his throat.

“We are leaving tomorrow morning, so Helena won’t be here,” he explained flatly. 

Helena looked down. What was she expecting? A part of her truly hoped that she could share her happiness, about her and Nozel’s relationship with the world. It would be a big step, but a necessary one further down the road. At the moment she was obviously content with how the things were, but she worried that they never really talked about what the future would bring. They were experiencing and living in the moment, enjoying each other’s presence. However after few months of dating Helena began to think of Nozel as an actual prospect for a partner for life. This could not happen if they were to keep their relationship secret forever. 

“So maybe another time then?” Rafael pulled her out of her thoughts. His expression was cheerful and excited.

“Of course,” Helena put on a smile. It did not quite reach her heart. 

[mjjune]

🧠 Brain Ask Game

Because I am a NERD who has taken multiple neuroanatomy classes and love brains!

Send me a part of the brain 🧠 and an OC (or I'll pick) to find out...

I have their (over)simplified functions listed, for your Education.

Frontal lobe (executive function) - What is their defining personality trait? What is the trait that, if lost, this OC would become unrecognizable?

Parietal Lobe (physical sensation) - Are there any physical sensations (e.g. temperatures, textures, etc) that your character extra loves and can't get enough of?

Temporal Lobe (auditory, emotion, memory) - What is their most emotionally poignant childhood memory? (good or bad)

Occipital Lobe (vision) - What do they consider the most beautiful thing to look at? (e.g. colors, scenery, a person)

Cerebellum (motor coordination) - Has there been a time where they were just an utter clutz? Please tell us.

Hippocampus (memory) - Are they the kind of person who can remember things easily, or do they have to write everything down?

Basal Ganglia (lots of shit, including learning & motor movements) - How quickly does your character learn a new skill, and what kind of help/teaching style do they benefit from the most?

Thalamus (signal relay, attention, consciousness) - How is their attention? Can they multitask well? Do they have ADHD?

Broca's Area (language expression) - Do they express themselves well? Do they communicate better in writing or speaking?

Wernicke's Area (language comprehension) - Do they prefer to listen or read? Are they speed readers or very slow?

Meninges (support, protection) - Tell us about a time when this OC protected someone or something they care about.

Midbrain (pain signals) - What is the most physically painful thing they have ever experienced?

Pons (cranial nerves for eyes, face, & hearing) - Do they have an hearing or visual deficits? Do they wear glasses or need any supports?

Medulla Oblongata (heart, breathing, unconscious functions) - Who or what is their lifeline?

[theresthesnitch]

Asking 💞💞💞

Delightful. This is from the Royal Arranged Marriage AU I've been talking about recently. A bit of an intimate wolfstar conversation.

~~~

“I’ve never—“ Remus swallows. “I haven’t. Before.”

“Really, never?” Sirius looks a bit surprised.

“Sorry,” Remus says. He starts to pull his hand away.

Sirius holds Remus’s hand in both of his. “There’s no need to be sorry, dove. I’m just asking. Do you want me to stop?”

“No, it’s alright,” Remus says, despite the fact that he knows his cheeks are bright red now. “You can ask.”

[tilion-writes]

Can you share more about the Mandos Jailbreak fic? That sounds like so much fun!

Absolutely, thanks so much!! Description here—and here's an excerpt (dialogue only, since I haven't written much of this yet):

“Tyelpë,” Elrond said, slowly. “How long have you been working on this?”

“Oh, a century or two, give or take. Why?”

“You’ve been building a device to break your estranged family out of the Halls of Mandos for a century or two?”

“Well, when you put it that way, it does sound strange. But Atar and I—we spoke, in the Halls. Things are better between us. And, well, as soon as I was reeembodied, and I realized there was no chance of the others being reembodied in time, I got to work.”

“Wait, Celebrimbor. How long have you been back?”

“Oh, well, let’s see. I started working on this project soon after I was reembodied. So. . . a century. Or two.”

“A century.”

“Or two.”

“So, after—what, five thousand years in Mandos? You were reembodied, found a house, and then immediately started trying to invent a way to break souls out of the afterlife.”

“Yeah.”

“That . . . that sounds about right, actually.”

“Yeah.”

[tackytigerfic]

blankets!

Hi, pal! I have a few of these but they're mostly wholesome cosy vibes. So I chose this one for you.

“I wanted more,” Draco said, and his hands scrabbled to cup Harry’s head against his breastbone. Harry was mouthing at his chest through his t-shirt, through cotton that was damp from his tongue and getting damper over the tight knot of Draco’s nipple, and Draco’s fingers tightened in Harry’s hair.

“What?” Harry said, distracted by the delicious pressure at his scalp, and the small panting breaths that were rocking Draco, and the way the bedlinen was tangled around them so that their legs were locked together and Harry could feel each curled-toe clench of Draco’s calf muscles.

“I said,” Draco said, kicking free of the blanket finally and rolling Harry onto his back, “I wanted more than one kiss.”

[nodirectionhome-ao3]

Hii!! for the excerpt ask game: please

Hey!!! This is actually the second ask I've gotten with this word and it's a fun one!!! (first ask is here)

I went with a funny one for that one, so I hope you don't mind a little angst here😅

Without further ado, from my upcoming James Lives AU fic, A Tide in the Affairs:

James gasped, reaching out with one hand to grab his friend’s robes—no, not his friend. Not his friend. He squeezed the fabric tighter, holding on—with fading strength—to the noose that should have been a lifeline.  “Not Harry,” he wheezed. “Please, Pete…please…not my son…not—” He gasped again. His lungs were burning coals. Searing, scraping, dying.

(Sorry😂)