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dollarbin · 1 year

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Dollar Bin #5:

Linda Ronstadt's Heart Like a Wheel

Let's jump straight to one of the best dollar bin records of all time. If you haven't experienced joy and peace regularly through a $1 copy of Heart Like a Wheel for the last 20 years you... are not me. And if you don't yet own a copy, have no fear. I guarantee that one eagerly awaits you in your local Dollar Bin.

I suppose we should clearly define the term "Dollar Bin" before this blog's swelling legion of 17 fans begins to toss the phrase around in an effort to win friends and influence their uncle.

Ideally, a Dollar Bin record actually cost $1. My beloved copy of Heart Like a Wheel meets that exacting standard. A secondary definition would refer to any record priced at a store's baseline rate. That was 25 cents when I started filling my own collection in 1988. Sadly, it's more like $5 in 2023.

But the term more generally means an album that is currently unappreciated to the point where it gets flipped past at thrift stores and yard sales. You're not going to find your coveted copy Ascension or What's Going On in the Dollar Bin, so, great as they are, they don't qualify.

Good old Gordon Lightfoot is lord of the Dollar bin. Snatch him up, and we'll talk about him at length in future posts. Neil Diamond, John Denver and Barbara Streisand provide the Bin's permanent bulk. You already know not to mess with that stuff. Stephen Stills records do not belong in the Dollar Bin. They belong in the garbage, or, better yet, they should be gathered up and hurled into the sun.

But Linda Ronstadt, I shall now argue, is the Dollar Bin's greatest living artist. Let's take a listen:

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The arrangement, the pacing, the aching, yet powerful vocals: it's a perfect cover of a song I hope to never hear by anyone else.

Heart Like a Wheel opens with a song you'll probably hear on AM radio while seeking out this record in your thrift store's dollar bin. You're No Good is one of Ronstadt's problem songs in that it was borrowed from a Black artist so as to make her a billion bucks. Ronstadt began this trend a few years earlier with Rescue Me and carried it to a peak on Prisoner in Disguise a year later, where she covers everyone from Jimmy Cliff to Smokey Robinson. The simple truth is that the people privileged enough to buy records and see popular live music back then (and, I'm sure, still today) were predominantly white, and they felt far more comfortable with the seemingly white Ronstadt than with any of the equally talented black artists of the day. And so Linda's in the Dollar Bin and Aretha Franklin is not. It's supply and demand, people.

Happily, Ronstadt doesn't just karaoke You're No Good; she transforms the song into something swirling and smooth. If You're No Good sounds overly familiar today that's because it's good enough to have spent over 50 years on the radio.

Whenever the reverse happens and a Black artist fabulously transforms a song originally by white artist, that cover's greatness is often lost. Take Merry Clayton's version of Southern Man. Better than Neil himself? Maybe!

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The fun twist on all this is that Ronstadt isn't actually white. She's Latina, a fact her white audience willfully ignored throughout the seventies, then embraced in the late 80's when Ronstadt powerfully forced her identify on them through her earnest and authentic Mexican records.

Ronstadt has always been a front line feminist and champion of progressive and independent ideas in music and popular culture. She dumped Governor Moonbeam in the 70's, proudly embraced being a single mom, cursed out George Bush on stage at the height of the second Iraq war's popularity and took in Linda Thompson when Richard did his own backstreet slide.

Anyone else in Ronstadt's shoes would have been content to sit back and be famous for her incredible looks and incomparable voice. But she hopped genres at a Neil Young pace and consistently promoted marginalized and overlooked voices (Heart Like a Wheel's title track introduced the world to the writing of Anna McGarrigle; a decade and a half later Aaron Neville became a household name thank to Linda).

The popular knock on Ronstadt, of course, is that she was never a songwriter. The familiar and accurate comeback is that she is a masterful song re-writer instead. That skill finds no better manifestation than on her version of Paul Anka's It Doesn't Matter Anymore. Anka's sings the song like he's serving up deviled eggs covered in his own chest hair; Ronstadt serves us ambrosia she smuggled off Olympus.

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Heart Like a Wheel is chock full of bragging points. Ronstadt opens side two by showing that she can rock the mic on When Will I Be Loved. Unfortunately, the insufferable lead guitar work on the track will make you think Stephen Stills himself snuck out your dumpster and into her studio; happily, it's not him, it's multi-instrumentalist Andrew Gold demonstrating why he'd never become a household name. Stills himself was off sucking on an egg somewhere and the track fades quickly into a gorgeous and soulful renegade trucker epic, Willin'. The song gives us the joyfully silly image of Ronstadt smuggling weed, whites and wine across the border in a semi. But it rocks and Linda owns it.

As Willin' fades, we dive right into a truly vital track in the Dollar Bin. I Can't Help It If I'm Still in Love with You marks the first collaboration between Ronstadt and our very own Emmylou Harris. Both women would go on to talk about their relationship, which was born on that track, as critical to their lives. The terribly titled, but otherwise excellent, biopic on Ronstadt, The Sound of My Voice, climaxes with a modern day Emmylou breaking down while talking about Linda's Parkinson's diagnosis. All their future success and art both together and apart is simply and fully presented on I Can't Help It If I'm Still in Love With You. They carry Hank Williams' lyrics with perfect, sisterly grace. Mortals quake before them; beasts kneel. If Emmylou is God, Linda makes us polytheists.

So go get in the Dollar Bin. There's simply no better use of a buck than this nearly flawless record.

#linda ronstadt #emmylou harris #stephen stills still sucks #Youtube

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rainsmediaradio · 10 months

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Crosswalk The Devotional 22nd November – The Essence of Thankfulness.

TOPIC: The Essence of Thankfulness. SCRIPTURE: Philippians 3:7 NLT I once thought these things were valuable, but now I consider them worthless because of what Christ has done. By Meg Bucher The mint green box with flowers on it collects all of the dust bunnies under the bed. Its contents hold the memories of a season of life. We attach sentiment to things on this earth. Things become especially meaningful to us when they symbolize something much greater than the craving for the physical object. It’s sad to box up a season of life once treasured. Paul wrote to the Philippians about the true value of things. The Greek translation for things is hostis, and the word is defined as “whoever, whatever, who.” One of the definitions for things in the English language is “anything that is or may become an object of thought.” Our earthly selves love to be loved, and comfortable. We love the assurance someone will never leave us, and slowly forget there is only One who never will. “When Paul speaks of these things, he is referring to his credentials, credits, and successes,” the NLT Bible notes explain, “After showing that he could beat the Judaizers at their own game (being proud of who they were and what they had done), Paul shows that it is the wrong game. Be careful of considering your position or past achievements so important that they get in the way of your relationships with Christ.” Add to achievements our relationships and how tempting it is to hold people to standards in this life they can never fulfill for us. Paul continued to write: “Yes, everything else is worthless when compared with the infinite value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.” Philippians 3:8 NLT Christ Jesus is the only One who can fill the gaps in our human hearts, which automatically ache for assurance, comfort, and companionship. Everything, and everyone, will fail to fulfill this desire in our lives because our hearts were created to crave Him. “Gaining Christ is described in three ways:” The Moody Bible Commentary explains, “first, it is found in Him …second, it is not having one’s own righteousness …third, it is having the righteousness which comes through faith in Christ.” The author of Hebrews reminds us, “Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.” (Hebrews 11:1 NLT.) Paul wrote to the Romans: “For in the gospel the righteousness of God is revealed- a righteousness that is by faith from first to last, just as it is written: ‘The righteous will live by faith.’” Romans 11:17 NLT The desire to put our hope in whoever or whatever ends up in a box collecting the dust bunnies under our beds. Our souls were created to put our hope in one person: Christ Jesus. Through Him, we come to the Father. In Him, we find peace, joy, love, and purpose. By His death, we get to live ours to the full here on earth and eternally with Him in heaven. Paul continued: “For his sake I have discarded everything else, counting it all as garbage, so that I could gain Christ and become one with him. I no longer count on my own righteousness through obeying the law; rather, I become righteous through faith in Christ. For God’s way of making us right with himself depends on faith.” - Philippians 3:8b-9 NLT Intersecting Faith and Life: Faith isn’t an object we own or the level we achieve in life. Faith is a living and breathing part of who we are, constantly being molded into the image of Christ Jesus as we follow Him through our daily lives. Paul’s letter continued: “I want to know Christ and experience the mighty power that raised him from the dead. I want to suffer with him, sharing in his death, so that one way or another I will experience the resurrection from the dead!” Philippians 3:10-11 NLT Though it seems some seasons in our lives are unrelatably painful, Christ gets it. The box of memories collecting dust bunnies means something to Him because it means something to us. God does not meet us with a pep-talk; he meets us with compassion. He says, “let’s go through this box together …bring it to me.” He sees us, He knows us, and He longs to comfort us in the times we need to remember most …whoever or whatever is nothing in comparison to the complete peace, restoration, love, and joy we experience in Christ Jesus. Nothing …nothing …compares to who He is. Father, You are so faithful. Every day, Your mercies are new. Great is Your faithfulness! We can be sad, and we can cry out to You, God. Thank You for who You are. Your compassion saves our lives over and over again. We confess our misplacement of people and things in our lives. We confess our focus on achieving over abiding in You. We love You with our whole hearts. Help us to understand how to grow in our love for You. Let it overflow out of our lives and onto everyone around us, Father. Meg writes about everyday life within the love of Christ at Joy Overflowing and Sunny&80. She is the author of “Friends with Everyone, Friendship within the Love of Christ,” “Surface, Unlocking the Gift of Sensitivity,” “Glory Up, The Everyday Pursuit of Praise,” “Home, Finding Our Identity in Christ,” and "Sent, Faith in Motion." Meg earned a Marketing/PR degree from Ashland University but stepped out of the business world to stay home and raise her two daughters …which led her to pursue her writing passion. A contributing writer for Salem Web Network since 2016, Meg is now thrilled to be a part of the editorial team as Editor of Christian Headlines. Meg loves being involved in her community and local church, leads Bible study, and serves as a youth leader for teen girls. Read the full article

#MegBucher

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secretnimh · 2 years

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Red Robin (Tim) time travels to the past for a mission and ends up as a 10 year old kid - no matter what, he can’t make any major changes to the timeline, or get caught... In Scooby Doo style shenanigans, Robin (Jason) and Beast Boy (Garfield) end up breaking into his house, which they think is haunted.

If anyone wants to join our DC roleplay discord;

Tim’s trip to the past inadvertently and irrevocably alters the timeline! All DC and original characters are welcome - the server is for ages16+, and just starting out!

Taken characters are as follows; Tim Drake (Red Robin/Civilian), Jason Todd (Robin), Garfield Logan (Beast Boy), The Joker

“Basic Bitch DC RP is an open Detective Comics Roleplay group that's friendly to members of all levels of experience, and set in a very loose, more-or-less canon timeline (Post-Crisis, Pre-A Death In The Family - Jason Todd, as Robin, is about 13 years old).

Pick any of your favorite DC characters to roleplay, or even an original character of your own making, and hit the scene running! From Midnighter to Mr.Miracle, Catwoman to Queen Bee, the world is your oyster!

If your character does not yet exist within our timeline, you're welcome to squeeze them in via shenanigans. Alternate earths, time travel, perhaps they simply hit the scene younger...

Every roleplay here should be considered as if it's in the same universe, but you don't necessarily have to roleplay with everyone. Whether you're planning epic showdowns with all your greatest nemeses or a small coffee-shop date, you're free to explore!”

https://discord.gg/VybqX5u3

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doctorbeth · 5 years

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Stripes the 50 year old tiger

This will be a longer post, because it’s all about the details, and there was a lot of going back and forth with photos and emails to get Stripes and his stripes just right. So be sure you’re comfy when you sit down to read it. :-)

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Stripes person first wrote to me back in December about her tiger, Stripes, and his companion RedEye the snake. Both were starting to feel their age, but as she said,

“ As you can see Stripes is in the most need of repairs. Personally, I’m guessing that a full recovering is needed, but I’m certainly no expert and will follow your advice. Here are some pics which show Stripes fur disappearing and soon he will be bald. Amazingly he has no damage that I can find. His ears need some stuffing, but they have never been tall, firm standing Teddy Bear ears.”

Here are the diagnosis photos she sent:

As you can see, his belly section was pretty good, but his furry parts were wearing and fading. His person really wanted his fur recovered, in an orangier rather than tanner fur, and she opted for him to have a spa too.

Here he is in his bubble bath:

Once he was dry, he got restuffed and of course, got a heart with a bit of his original stuffing. Here’s his heart being made:

Then it was time to choose furs. As some of you know who’ve been reading for a while, usually with tigers we use a solid fur of the preferred background color, then add the stripes by hand afterwards. Here were the best fur options:

His person opted for the orangier, furrier one.

Stripes got recovered, and some smaller wounds on his belly were sewn. Then, it was time for hand striping. I did some basic striping, and then sent photos for feedback:

His person’s first response was:

Beth, you’ve made me cry at work. I’m absolutely over the moon with Stripes new look!!! Holy cats he’s looking beautiful!! You are AMAZING!

But I was asking for striping feedback, and she happily provided it:

The stripes. Thank you for being so conservative. :) I would like to add some more stripes. I’ve included an updated pic that shows where I would like some stripes added.

Tail: Could you put 2 stripes in a ring pattern around the tail? They continue the black spots you started. I also noticed with other Gund tigers that the ring was painted at a slight angle or sprayed as 2 “halves”, not a straight ring that looked like a raccoon’s tail. (pics) I know that there was more black at the tip of the tail, but I don’t think the whole tip was black.

Back Leg: I’ve continued your 3 spots into stripes.

Body: I’ve added 2 stripes, but if you will notice stripe #2 is in the shape of a ‘V”. (I remember this detail as a child) The stripes do NOT have to line up with the fabric underneath. They didn’t before. :D

Face: I’ve added a short stripe above Stripes’ right eye. This detail always gave him a slight serious look without being mean. (not a lot of slant to the line, if any) I have always loved this detail about him. And I’ve elongated the stripe on his forhead.

Beth, I’m pretty sure we will be adding some more stripes to the back, especially his head but I thought we might tackle this bit first.

She closed with:

Again, I just absolutely can’t thank you enough for your beautiful and loving work on my best friend. I have been showing people the before and after pics for the last 5 hours. I’m so happy!!!

So back to drawing stripes on Stripes I went. Here are the next batch of photos:

Stripes person was thrilled:

Stripes looks spectacular!! I mean he is just awesome with the stripes that you’ve filled out.

She wanted just one more stripe. She sent a photo, but it was in another format, so I won’t put it here, but she also described what she wanted very well:

So I just have 1 more stripe for you. If you look at my pic, you will see that I’ve drawn a line over the small black dot that is on his forehead. In the last pic you sent me you can still see that it’s just a spot and not a stripe. Could you lengthen that spot into a stripe for me?

Please note the position. When you are seated facing Stripes, this stripe includes/starts at the black spot and runs towards the right. You have a pretty stripe that’s higher on the head already placed on the left so this one goes off to the right and is the same length as that one.

Adjustment made, I sent another photo (you can see the printout with her line instruction next to him):

Her response:

Perfection Achieved! I’m so so happy!!!! How many exclamation points can I put in an email to show you how perfect Stripes is!!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So Stripes got packed up and headed home to a grateful human and snake. Here he is at home with his pal, RedEye:

His person was soooo happy! She wrote a very long thank you, with a history of Stripes and RedEye, and I don’t want to edit it, so I’m copying it entirely here for you to read. But you can skip it if you want and just know she was happy!

Hi Beth,

Sit back and relax. This may be a little bit of a long happy read. :D Please feel free to use any content or pics from my emails for your blog.

I waited anxiously for Stripes to arrive. Yes, my husband signed for the box and I couldn’t wait to get home!

And so the moment has arrived. I brought Stripes best friend Redeye in from the bedroom to help me open the package. We open, I close my eyes dig in past the packing peanuts and pull out our best friend. Oh My Goodness! He is beautiful! bright! and colorful! He practically glows! I see his face. Yes, yes! It’s Stripes! I see the same face I’ve gazed into and loved for 50 years. And that’s when the tears start. Crying, mouth open in shock but my husband says he’s never seen me happier. ..After many long years, I can finally cuddle my friend again.

Beth you have given me back something I thought I would never have again. I love Stripes so, but I couldn’t, didn’t dare to pet him or cuddle him. I had to be so gentle, so afraid that I was doing more damage to him. But now all that is over! I can sleep with my buddy by my side. I can take him on vacations again! I’m tearing up just writing this. I can’t express my joy…absolute joy over the work you have done. Stripes looks like a beautiful and bright toy again. Thank you Beth. Thank you so very much.

…And I’ll be sending Redeye to you some time in February. I’ll be sure to email you first to start the process.

And here’s a little history about Stripes. Stripes was a Christmas present in 1969. I have always loved tigers and I was in deep love the moment I saw him. He has enjoyed play tea parties with me, and watched drive-in movies sitting in the back window. He has looked over the candy hauls that I collected during Halloween and been in a beautiful oak tree during the crisp dry autumn. (Carefully placed on a towel, but he needed to experience a tree. He is a tiger after all.) He has been with me in Japan for a year and traveled all over the US northwest looking out of a train window. And he has done all these things with Redeye by his side.

--But let’s face the facts, in the last few years my friend was disappearing before my eyes. There was good fortune that his seams were okay but the fur was coming off. His stripes were completely gone in areas. He was looking more yellow everywhere. And I dared only to pat him. That’s when I began to search for help to restore my friend and so I found Realms of Gold on the internet.

Beth has been wonderful, corresponding with emails and working out details by sending pictures back and forth. She listened to my input and was absolutely amazing at applying the stripes in the right places. We actually discussed exactly where to put them. :D I trust Beth’s skills so much that I will be sending Stripes best friend Redeye along soon. He was amazed and so happy with Stripes look, that he can’t wait to go to Realms of Gold!

Okay Beth, this may be a little serious but I wanted to express my honest feelings, and let you know why this has been so important to me.

With my 2 stuffed animals loosing hair and looking tired a sobering thought occurred to me. If something happened to me, what would happen to them? We have no children to give them to. We can’t donate them because being so worn out, no one would take them. And the thought that they might end up in a garbage bin was too much. Of course for me, my goal was to pet, play and enjoy them again. That goes without saying. But now, seeing Stripes beautiful bright colors, I am happy and secure in knowing that years from now, I can donate or will him to a children’s home where he will continue to be loved. (I have several friends who grew up in orphanages and we think it’s a wonderful idea.)

Thank you so much Beth!!!!!!

I don’t know about all of you, but that made me smile all day. :-)

#stuffed animal repair #stuffed animal hospital #stuffed animal cleaning #stuffed animals #tigers #tiger #stuffed animal tiger #toy tiger

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other-cullen-ficrecs · 3 years

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MLM!Cullen Fic Rec List

Inspired by this post. Here is my fic rec list of some of my favorite fics with queer Cullen. Happy Pride :) 🏳️‍🌈 🏳️‍🌈 🏳️‍🌈

Cullen/Dorian

Only True in Fairy Tales by Dragonflies_and_Katydids

Summary: In which Dorian is a special forces operative, Bull is his partner, and Cullen is the guy they're sent to rescue. Hijinks ensue. // Words: 110150

Modern AU. Dragonflies_and_Katydids makes me read the weirdest stuff. But their work is always captivating. The more ridiculous set up the better outcome, I promise. This one is both ridiculous and absolutely perfect. And somehow one of the very few modern au fics in which Cullen's lyrium addiction is well transfered without making it literal.

Fashionably Late by tsurai

For the tumblr prompt: Cullen/Dorian Soulmates AU? <3 "Maker’s breath, this is absolutely the worst timing, he thinks distantly." // Words: 1038

This is but a tiny thing but I'm a sucker for a soulmate AU. Would I love it more if it was 150,000 words? Yes. But I'm just greedy.

COLD HANDS, WARM HEART by spicyshimmy, stonelions

Summary: Cullen and Dorian's friendship deepens. Cullen is a romantic. Dorian is literally cold. Cullen is no longer certain what he would consider surprising. Mages and Templars working in perfect cooperation, perhaps. Evil and corruption disappearing into the ground along with the blight, blood magic falling so far out of favor it ceased to be. A united Thedas: that would be a surprise. // Words: 25369

I think this is most recced Cullrian fic and for a good reason. Slow burn, drama, all the delights.

Light In This Darken'd Time Breaks by RamonaDecember

Summary: Cullen wouldn't say he hates mages, not anymore, but he can't see himself ever trusting one again. Dorian is no exception. The mage is off-color, self-important, and all together too much for Cullen to deal with. So why is it that every time Cullen is at his lowest, Dorian seems to be the only person by his side? // Words: 121289

Slow burn with 121289 words, what more do you want?

Cullen/Bull

Jump In by Dragonflies_and_Katydids

Summary: In which Cullen is almost terminally awkward, Bull and Dorian are literally brothers (because why not?), and Bull tries really hard to be good. Or: In which Dorian tries to set up his brother and his roommate, if he can avoid killing them for being so clueless. (You might get cavities from reading it. Don't say I didn't warn you.) // Words: 33700

What did I say about Dragonflies_and_Katydids and ridiculous premises? But if you're as delighted with awkward Cullen as am I - enjoy.

Dragons from Stars in an Empty Sky by Midna_Ronoa

Summary: The one in which Bull takes Cullen dragon-hunting. // Words: 10423

Fluff and smut and dragons!

Stuck on the Puzzle by thespectaclesofthor

Summary: Once, back in Kirkwall, Cullen had an arrangement with a member of the city guard that satisfied his needs. But time changed all things, and he despaired of ever finding a similar arrangement again - that was, until he met The Iron Bull. Problem being that Bull seemed to care far more about sorting out the nitty-gritty of such an arrangement than Cullen ever has. // Words: 235586

No fic rec lists that can involve Bullen canot do without Stuck on the Puzzle. If you haven't read it - please give it a try. As far as I'm concerned - the best fic in the fandom. And definately one of the best fics in general. <3

Cullen/Dorian/Bull

Exit Light by Dragonflies_and_Katydids

Summary: In which Cullen is suicidally depressed, Dorian is a high-functioning alcoholic, and Bull just wants them both to be happy, except when he wants to crack their heads together for being emotionally stunted idiots. // Words: 77427

This premise is actually very close to canon, compared to some other stories by the same author recced here. The angst? Delightful. The smut? Delicious. The exploration of issues? Delectable! Cheff kisses all around.

to burn cool and collected by toomanyhometowns

Summary: Dorian hums. "Here is the function of the spell: Upon invocationne, ye caster's spyryt shal sterte to ye form of whomsoever mofte recently achieved releafe by hys hande." He taps the page in punctuation and looks back up. "And then there's a lot of text about the vast joys we may experience together, et cetera, et cetera." // Words: 16121

Ok, this list shows more than anything that my main delight is issues and angst wrapped in with porn. Anyway - cracky premise (body swap!), and angsty, sexy outcome.

Hold by queeniegalore

Summary: Everyone knows Cullen doesn't trust magic. But he trusts Dorian and Bull, so maybe they can make this work. // Words: 6654

Issues? Trauma? Kink? I'm a one trick pony when it comes to recs.

Cullen/Cole

Okay now that we’ve gotten the obvious out, let’s enjoy the trully unexpected enjoyment.

Into The Light (Cole/Cullen Ficlets) by Sinister_Kid

Summary: A series of what I hope are tasteful Cole/Cullen fics that don't exploit or overly sexualize Cole's developing character. Based on a prompt I filled out of boredom in which I imagined the spirit actually hearing someone's pain like a physical noise in his ears that caused discomfort. Explores the option of making Cole more human, with my own original take on how that affects him as a character, and depicts Cole developing romantic feelings for the Commander as he discovers what it means to be human. // Words: 20454

I admit I don't often read Cole shippy fics but this one stays true to the info in the summary and it is careful and tasteful. Also Cullen learning to speak with Cole properly - <333

Cullen/Varric

Verse & Volley Triptych by boycoffin

Summary: POSSIBLE TITLES: This Shit Was Even Weirder: A Surprisingly Not-Doomed Romance In The Shadow of the Apocalypse The Commander and the Rogue already taken, Antivan maritime smut with an elf girl in it How The Hell I Ended Up With That Guy: A Tale for The People Who Keep Asking Me About It In Bars The Short and Curlies that's just terrible Love Among the tropey garbage A Tale of Two Names pretentious and unclear The Penman's Paramour Memoirs of a Moron (That He's Going to Regret Publishing and Will Never Hear The End Of for As Long As He Lives) // Words: 133354

One of the very few fics in which I can not only accept but love 1st person POV. Crack. Slow-burn. Pennames. Lovable OCs. DELICIOUS. Also a fic that made me start this blog, so love all around.

Cullen/Krem

Last but not least, my delightful fave (maybe, possibly, probably) and involving a shameless self-plug because it’s the month of pride.

Swordplay by orphan_account

Summary: The Bull's Chargers are undisciplined, untested, and unprofessional; but Cullen can't stop thinking about their lieutenant. // Words: 3910

I have a soft spot for whoever Krem being shipped with not knowing he's trans at first. But also oblivious, pining Cullen <3

If you have been starving, a creature of bone by missivesfromghosts

Summary: Cullen is content with where he is. He has a life and a purpose. He’s doing the Maker’s work and he’s cut the Chantry’s leash on him. He barely thinks about the fact that he’s trans anymore. The last person who knew he was born anything different, barring his sister Mia, died during the Blight. This works for him. That is, until he starts falling for Krem. // Words: 769

A tiny thing but I have a soft spot for the idea. Also what's better than a ship with trans character? A ship with two trans characters. Keep that in mind for further recs actually.

Sweet, Merciful Andraste by Tainaron

Summary: PWP. Honestly, Cullen should invest in walls and a ceiling that don't have holes if he's going to keep having such loud sex. Pure, unapologetic smut between trans men who love each other. // Words: 4187

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ What more do you want from me? Sometimes porn is just porn. Enjoy.

Champions of the Just by Tainaron

Summary: En route to Griffin Wing Keep before the battle of Adamant, Cullen falls prey to an injury that reveals a shameful secret about his trauma with magic. As Cullen struggles with his past, his duty to the Inquisition, and his love life, he becomes increasingly uncertain if he’s the target of an assassination attempt or just his own personal demons. // Words: 67885

Well, I also have some plottier and angstier fics in my rec disposal. This one actually explores the problems Krem and Cullen could encounter in their relationship and all within the canon plot line. Plus bonus points of Cullen actually interacting with other Chargers.

cabbage: a love story by psikeval

Summary: Krem’s grin fades into a quiet smirk, his eyes warm and amused, and Cullen does not forget how to move his legs because he is a grown man, a leader of soldiers, commander of the Inquisition’s army. He breaks the silence by coughing loudly, because he is also an imbecile. // Words: 18932

Creme de la creme of Krem/Cullen fics <3 Fluff, crack, porn <3 This delightful series has it all!

#fic rec #pride month #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #cullen rutherford #bi cullen #cullen/krem #bullen #cullen/bull #culrian #cullen/dorian #culric #cullen/varric #cullen/cole #rec list

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kalle-and-lita · 3 years

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My half of the art trade with @tagedeszorns featuring their OC Doriel. I can't even begin to tell you how much of a joy it was to work with the mun and their muse!

Lita cast a furtive glance down the long halls of the palace. It was so quiet she could hear the beat of her heart thunder in her ears. Perhaps it was because she was leaving work so close to curfew. Only the foolish would dare to walk the empty streets lest they incur the wrath of the Night Haunter.

Maybe it was the fear of her mistress, whose rage was easily incited these days. Several members of the staff had already gone missing. Lita wasn't fool enough to believe they had just left.

Or perhaps, her nervousness was due to the large platter of food she clutched to. Taking food, even uneaten, was akin to stealing from the barons. If she was caught she'd be killed without a second thought.

But she was on a mission, and she would not be deterred. So Lita steeled her nerves and made her escape as quiet as she could. Every step was carefully planned, every corner scrutinized until she was sure she was safe and alone. She didn't breathe easy until she passed through the servants entrance and out onto the streets.

There was the faintest drizzle pouring from the sky. A cacophony of lights twinkled in the perpetual dark, reflecting off dirty glass windows and pools of stagnant water in the broken streets. Above the familiar hum of the city Lita noted the blessed silence. No screaming, no gunfire. Orderly silence since the whispers had begun.

Whispers of a silent stalker in the night. A savior to the weak who suffered beneath the heel of the barons and their crime lords. Night Haunter they called him, and his was a name revered with fear and awe. Rumors persisted of his speed, his ferocity. While she had not seen his handiwork for herself, Lita knew the tales of the flayed criminals he left out as warning. To take caution because if you caught his gaze there would be no one to save you from him.

Lita's reverie was broken by the sound of shoes scuffing cobblestone. Just like the nights before they came out of the shadows like pale little spirits. Four in total with the youngest looking no older than five or six. The oldest approached first, crossing the street once he was sure they were all alone. He was strange for a Nostromon; his hair was the color of a fire blazing away in the adamantium furnaces. Though he still possessed the pallid complexion and the hardened, steel black gaze of his kin.

"Hello," Lita smiled, "I'm glad you boys are safe. I brought the good stuff from the kitchen."

The redhead eyed her sharply, a frown etched into his features. The smaller shadows of his gang pressed at his back threateningly,

"Ah," Lita warned, waving a scolding finger at them, "Unless you want to go back to eating garbage and refuse I suggest you play nice."

"Fuck off." The redhead snapped over his shoulder. His mates backed off, though they still possessed a hungry look in their eyes. Sure that they weren't going to cause trouble, the young boy turned back to her, "What you want for it?"

"We have this conversation every time." She sighed, she popped the lid off one of the bowls of food. A hearty, and savoury aroma filled the air. If the boys looked hungry before they were absolutely ravenous now. "I don't want anything more than the satisfaction of you boys being well fed."

The redhead shot her a venomous glare, "I still say it's bullshit. Ain't nobody that nice."

"So you don't want the food then?" She teased, the younger kids hissed at their leader,

"Shut up, Doriel, before you ruin it!" One hissed. The young boy, Doriel, scowled right back,

"I ain't ruining shit! Look, bitch, just hand over the food and we'll get out of your hair."

Lita chuckled but pointedly ignored Doriel's rather colorful language. The large bowl of stew was all but yanked from her hands and she happily watched as the children ate. More than once the young redheaded boy thumped one of his mates on the shoulder, a silent admonishment for taking more than a fair share.

And they scampered off just as quick as they came with Doriel offering a cursory glance back at her. She nodded a farewell and tossed the now empty bowl, all too eager to navigate the eerie streets of the upper districts. Her feet pounded against hard stone as she ran, a desperate bid to get to the shops before curfew descended upon her.

Luck was not completely on her side tonight, however. Lita cringed as the shop door slammed shut behind her and locked tight. Lights flickered off, leaving her alone on the dark sidewalk. Her gaze flickered to the shadowy corners around her, their long tendrils closing in on her.

She didn't make it a habit to be out past curfew. A nervous tension settled in her belly as she set off for home. Her footsteps echoed loudly, bouncing off the high buildings ominously. Each passing minute was like agony, the eerie silence fraying at her nerves until there was a burning itch between her shoulder blades.

Lita tensed at the feeling.

She was no stranger to this sensation of being watched. Years of service to the barons, and even her years on the streets, had refined her sense of awareness. All the better to know when to run or hide.

But this was not the first night she felt the piercing gaze of the unknown stalker's eyes. For weeks she walked home with the proverbial dagger aimed at her back, ever nervous for an attack that had yet to come.

Lita turned a sharp corner in an effort to evade her stalker. A stupid idea to turn into the pitch black of the alleyway, but she knew it to be a shortcut home and she was desperate. Her heart thundered away in her ears even as her footsteps echoed on the walls. Save for the drizzling of the rain there was nary a sound above the hum of quiet.

Then, just behind her, she heard something hit the ground. If she hadn't been listening so keenly she wouldn't have heard it. Lita froze with a gasp, a chill ran down her spine and the burn in her shoulder blades grew hot. There was a presence at her back, she could feel its hot breath on her neck.

Against her better judgement she turned to look, oh so slowly spinning on her heels. She came face to face with a monstrously large Nostromon man, the pitch black of his eyes drawing her in. His thin strands of black hair stuck to his face, and fell over his shoulders as he sat nearly hunched over her. Lita blinked dumbly, mouth agape in terror.

All at once her sense of self preservation kicked in as a smile crossed his face. A set of wicked sharp teeth gleamed at her and the fear in her gut rose well past the point of control.

So Lita did what any normal person would do and panicked. And in her panic she did the very first thing that sprang to mind, and she threw her grocery bags at him. She didn't bother to stick around to see his reaction. She was far too interested in running as fast her poor legs could carry her.

And she didn't stop running until she was safely back in her apartment. The keys clattered to the floor and her back hit the door. Her lungs burned and her legs gave out, and Lita hit the ground with a hard thud while her mind tried to wrap around what just happened.

He'd been so quiet. That thought scared her more than she cared to admit. How was it possible that someone so large could be so silent?! And she was fairly certain that the only reason she'd known he was there was because he let her see him.

Just who was he? Why was he following her?

Cold realization hit her hard as she came down from her adrenal high. The whispered tales of the few who'd seen the Night Haunter and lived. Of the man draped in shadow and blood, larger than life who took no qualms in spilling the blood of the guilty.

"Oh gods," Lita's hands flew to her mouth, "Oh gods!"

And she had just hit him.

In the face.

With her grocery bags!

She sprang to her feet and ran to check her windows, futile as it seemed. If the Night Haunter wanted to get to her windows were not going to stop him. For the better part of an hour she paced the confines of her apartment, awaiting retribution despite her own perceived innocence. Fixated on the fact that she had thrown her food at the Night Haunter in blind panic.

Lita resented the fact that if she was going to die, she was going to do so hungry.

The burn eventually came back. Fear turned to trepidation as she paused at her living room window. The balcony was empty, wet with the rain. She took a few deep breaths before she opened the sliding glass door. Before she could second guess herself she leaned onto the railing and took another deep breath.

"I'm sorry!" She shouted into the night. Somewhere in the distance a dog barked. "I swear I didn't know it was you. I wouldn't have hit you if I had. I'm so sorry!"

A long moment of silence passed until she picked up the sound of something dragging on the roof behind her. She turned her gaze up to find the Night Haunter casually perched on the roof edge, black eyes boring right into her skull. She averted her gaze in embarrassment.

"I am so, so sorry." She repeated, "I wasn't expecting to be followed, and you appearing out of nowhere startled me, and I panicked..."

She was bumbling like an idiot, trapped between him and the railing. But his silence was making her nervous. Lita felt the hot flush warm her face.

Then, something hit the ground. Lita jumped then stooped over to find her grocery bag, albeit missing some of its contents but still intact. She looked up, still under his scrutinizing gaze.

"Uhhm," she stuttered, awkwardly collecting her bag and shuffling towards the door, "Thank you."

He blinked at her, expression neutral even as he watched her slip inside and close the door.

The itch in her shoulder blades didn't cease as she put away her groceries and started dinner. She tried to ignore it for the most part, though she couldn't help but wonder why he was sticking around. Surely there were more interesting things to do than watch her?

She found her way back to the balcony door eventually, after setting her stew to a simmer. The Night Haunter now perched on the railing so he could peer in. She slid open the door to poke her head out.

"Hi." Lita muttered, he blinked again and let the awkward silence stretch out, "Uh, I made food. Did you want some?"

No answer save for his endless staring. Lita swallowed the lump in her throat and stepped back,

"I'll, uh, leave the door open for you then."

She retreated back to the kitchen, wooden spoon in hand. The minutes passed as she slowly stirred the stew, lost in the rhythmic motions. That was until she felt a presence hunched over her shoulder. Lita dared not look up, instead she simply muttered under her breath,

"I think I need to get you a bell."

#art trade #warhammer 30k #konrad curze #lita #warhammer40k #night lord #Doriel #my writing #night haunter

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fallenrepublick · 4 years

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I should be asleep for work (my work schedule is garbage) but I can’t focus anymore because of those lovely yet painful angst thoughts. Would love an elaboration on any of them, they’re so good! Maybe the dancing one or the nightmare one please if you’re up for it?

Thank you for being you, you’re amazing 🖤 love your responses and thoughts to the the Star Wars baddies, so much fun to read!

Alright I’m going to do both because I am cruel mwahahaha

For the dancing scenario, it took place back at the beginning.

He had known you made him feel something different, at the very least. Thrawn had brought you home a mere month ago, and the way he had described you before was not enough to do you justice. You smiled at Thrass fondly, and often, took to the family and the culture with more grace and ease than many would assume. And though he was wary of you at the start, there was no denying you were easily trustworthy, and you found yourself within his good graces quicker than others.

It was clear, as well, that Thrawn absolutely adored you. Rarely seen without you at his side, he carried an air of confidence and pride around him that was unlike anything Thrass had seen before.

How uncharacteristic it was, then, that Thrawn would so easily take an assignment that required so much travel. There was no telling how long he would be away, and the worst part was that it was a trip that could have been avoided. Thrass wondered if this would be the start of a trend.

No matter. He would take this time to show you the reality of this family, to walk you through the steps and the lifestyle changes necessary to hold your own in such a prominent family. As well as hopefully instill within you enough of a sense of importance about your status that you could pull Thrawn from his mindset of, “I was born a commoner, so I could live that way again if I have to.” Really. How considerate.

Of course, dancing was a large part of this, as banquets and meetings happened with enough frequency that it could never be avoided no matter how hard you tried.

The task was easier said than done, though, he had come to find. Not because you were incapable by any means, as what he taught was fairly simple, but because of how painfully aware he was becoming of his own emotions.

Dancing is quite a dangerous thing once you know what you’re doing, and it seemed that every touch you placed in his hands sent sparks through his body and his soul, pulling him to you in ways he could have never imagined. He envisioned how it must be like, dancing with you this way, with the whole world around you falling away, despite the eyes looking on as you step in time with him, how perfect it all could be.

He felt his heart begin to race, his arm around your waist tighten only slightly, your chest rising and falling against his. If he leaned closer, what would happen? What would you think? His eyes watched your lips, upturned in a good-natured smile.

He blinked away his stare, realising the song had ended long ago. And with a pleased, “Well done,” he nodded at you. His hand still held to yours.

And he wondered, why he felt such emptiness when he let go.

When a nightmare comes, he’s always prepared for it.

The two of you tend to have a habit of making little “camping” nights when you stay over, laying out plush blankets and pillows over the floor of the living room, or wherever you wish to be, talking between each other and dozing off as the night drags on. Sometimes you’ll even nap on the couch, if the day permits.

So it only makes sense that you’d have a nightmare or two when you stay over, given the frequency of your visits. And even the first time it happened, Thrass was ready for it.

He doesn’t sleep very deeply, as is the tendency when disaster could strike at any hour, coupled with a subconscious idea that he doesn’t want to waste even a moment of your presence unaware that you’re with him. And so, when he began hearing the small sounds you made during the dream, he knew to wake almost immediately.

He made his way over to where you slept, admittedly not very far away, and gradually placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. A bare whisper of your name, and small strokes of his thumb. Already, you’d begun to calm, but not quite.

And so he sat, supporting your head, continuing to speak, to make sure you heard his voice.

“It’s alright, it’s alright...” he soothed, careful not to fully wake you or frighten you further. “I’m here, I’m with you. You’ll be alright, I promise. I will protect you, my angel.”

He thanked every god that you weren’t fully awake to process that.

Still, you leaned into him, eventually reaching up enough to make your way into his lap fully, where he hesitated, yet accepted the task of basically cradling you, a hand on your head and another on your waist. It was clear enough that you weren’t truly awake, but he obliged you nonetheless, knowing you needed him, at least for now.

Your face buried into his neck, your arm wrapping around him as you placed a single kiss on his skin. His face became hot, and he bit his lip to keep from speaking. Did you know? You must... But you were barely conscious. Likely enough, you didn’t even know where you were.

“Thank you...” you said lazily against him. “Thank you... I... Love you...”

He would have responded. Oh how much he wanted to respond. This could be it, he thought for but a moment. These words might very well be something you’d hidden all this time. His heart filled with something resembling hope and relief, every possibility he’d ever imagined taking root in his chest. That is, until you spoke again.

“I love you... so much... Thrawn...”

How stupid of him. How dare he imagine such things? How dare his foolish, naïve heart be so easily swayed. Of course it wasn’t to him. How could it have been? You don’t belong to him. You never did. To think, even for a moment, that you could feel something for him was senseless.

He is not Thrawn. He could never be his perfect, brilliant brother. He could never bring you such joy, such love and fascination.

And he watched as you slept, content, unaware, an “I love you, too” locked behind closed lips.

#chiss triangle

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let-the-dream-begin · 4 years

Text

In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 4: The Past Can Hurt

Chapter 3

Read on AO3

Claire peeked at the rear view mirror again, and smiled again at the sight of her happy daughter. Faith's favorite "reward meal" was McDonald's. Claire had pinky-promised that if she was a good girl with the horses today, they would get McDonald's for dinner on the way home. She was contentedly waving around the Minion toy that had come in the happy meal, humming and kicking her little legs. Claire had both of their meals on the passenger seat, knowing full well that her daughter would make quite the mess if she let her eat in the car. So would Claire, to be frank.

Claire had made it abundantly clear how proud she was of Faith, had reminded her several times already how she'd been such a good girl. Whether this made Faith happy to hear, or she was simply still in the afterglow of petting a horse, was anyone's guess. Claire hoped Faith could see, could truly understand how happy her mother was. She supposed if she said it enough it might sink in, if it hadn't already.

Back at home, the moment Claire unbuckled Faith from her carseat, she insisted on carrying her meal in herself, to which Claire was more than happy to oblige. She watched, amused, as Faith scampered up the steps to their front door, waiting rather impatiently for her mother to catch up. This was something that Faith had done whenever they'd arrived at their home in Oxfordshire: squirm out of Claire's grip and bolt to the porch, rocking on her heels or bouncing while she waited for the door to open. As Claire pushed the key into the lock, her heart felt a little lighter.

She already feels like this is her home.

Faith immediately scampered inside and right to the kitchen, and by the time Claire got the door shut, stuffed horse onto the couch, and shoes off, Faith was already halfway through her chicken nuggets, sitting up on her knees at the kitchen table. Claire shook her head, laughing.

"You are certainly in a good mood, aren't you, darling?" She ruffled her curly hair and sat down across from her, opening her own paper bag, pulling out her burger and french fries. The teenager at the drive-thru had been quite bewildered when she'd asked for crisps. Such strange lingo these Americans used.

Faith was finished eating before Claire was even halfway through her burger, and she slid off her chair and reached for the chocolate shake that Claire put on the counter to be out of her reach until she finished. Claire sprung out of her seat to grab it herself before Faith could cause it to topple and make a mess.

"Let Mummy help, Faith," Claire said, frantically. "You have to ask for help..." Claire sighed in defeat, handing over the milkshake. She sat back down as Faith settled in again, knowing better than to leave the kitchen with food of any kind. Claire watched her little cheeks hollow out as she guzzled down the liquid, her honey eyes light with joy.

Faith's being nonverbal was not as much of an issue as it could have been, but it was an issue nonetheless. The worst of it was when she was clearly distraught and could not communicate the source of her distress. Had she made a mess of her chocolate shake due to her inability to ask for help, it would have been quite the inconvenience, but Claire supposed mealtime could have gone much worse. Claire knew her daughter by now, better than Claire even knew herself. She'd become accustomed to the various grunts and whines, associating meaning to each different sound over the years. She supposed, however, that this would not be a sufficient way to communicate to a teacher someday, or Mrs. Lickett when Claire was no longer able to stay home with them.

Claire's anxiety lessened a bit at the thought of the woman; Mrs. Lickett was certified to teach American Sign Language to nonverbal autistic children, and she promised Claire she'd have Faith doing basic signs by the time she was ready to start school, whenever that may be.

Then she remembered how close they'd come to a meltdown in the stable, and how easily Jamie had calmed her, how proud he'd been to introduce the horse to her as a reward, how happy it had made Faith. Claire's heart swelled for perhaps the hundredth time since they'd left. The sound of slurping filled the room as Faith reached the end of her milkshake.

"All done, lovie?" Faith took her mouth off the straw and smiled contentedly at her mother. "Clean up now, Faith. Garbage in the bin, please."

Faith did as she was told, and then Claire beckoned her into her lap.

"Come here, darling," she crooned, enveloping her in her arms. "Mummy is so very proud of you, baby. I'll never stop saying it." She kissed her cheek, and Faith giggled. "Are you happy, Faith? Hm?" She rocked her gently, but Faith just hummed and traced patterns on Claire's arms with her fingertips.

"Happy, Faith?" Claire said again, remembering the thumbs-up maneuver from earlier, and employing it now. "Are you happy, love?"

Faith giggled again and grabbed Claire's thumb in her little hand.

"Faith, no..." Claire couldn't help but chuckle, as well. "See? Thumbs-up if you're happy, Faith. Happy?" She tried again with her free thumb.

Faith giggled yet again, but this time, she returned the gesture. Claire laughed out loud and brought the little fist, still holding her thumb, to her lips to cover with kisses.

"I'm happy, too, baby girl," Claire said. "Very happy."

She gave another little giggle before squirming out of Claire's arms and pattering out of the kitchen. Claire cleaned up after herself and returned to the table to continue nursing her own milkshake. Faith bounded back in with a DVD box in hand and held it expectantly up to Claire. Claire smiled and took it in her hands.

"Ah, all about animals today, hm?" She cocked an eyebrow at Faith. Tonight's choice was The Lion King. This was typical, even back in Oxfordshire. Faith would toddle up to either Claire or Frank with a DVD after dinner and expect help to get it ready, so she could watch her movie before bed. More often than not, Frank would wordlessly hand the box over to Claire instead, and after a while Faith learned to only bring it to Claire.

Claire put the DVD in as Faith went into her room, returning with her baby Simba stuffed animal to watch with. She settled onto the couch, now righted to its position in the middle of the room, centered and straightened. There were still boxes and messes, but things were slowly coming together. Claire took this opportunity while Faith was glued to the telly to get to some more boxes. She peeled the tape off a particularly heavy box, and smiled to herself at the sight of the picture frames inside, covered in bubble wrap. She moved behind the couch to the long table pushed against it, exactly where she'd planned to put said pictures. She unwrapped them all lovingly and arranged them on the table: an infant Faith fast asleep like a little angel on Claire's shoulder; Faith in the photo studio with a large, plastic number "1" for her first birthday; Claire holding Faith on a carousel, smiling like a fool at her toddler aged daughter; Faith, two-and-a-half, grabbing at Frank's cheeks and laughing her head off.

Christ.

Claire froze, a hard lump forming in her throat as the opening chords to "Circle of Life" filled her ears. What was she supposed to do with this? Why had she even packed it? Well, that was easy enough: Faith looked simply darling. But...

She ran trembling fingers over both of their faces behind the glass, sighing with a shudder.

Oh, Frank...How happy we once were.

Indecisive, Claire put the frame back in the box, reaching for another to unwrap: Faith mid-bite of a chocolate-chip pancake at the breakfast table. The older she got, the less complacent she'd been for photo opportunities, so Claire had to content herself with capturing candid, silly moments like this, and she honestly would not have had it any other way. She stood it up next to the carousel shot and reached for another.

God damn it.

Claire holding Faith at the church the day of her christening, Frank's arm wrapped around Claire's shoulders, smiling proudly.

Fuck you.

Claire pressed the frame face-down into the table, biting her bottom lip to stifle a sob. How dare he stand there, looking so proud of the family that he would so quickly discard? How dare he let that little girl touch his face like that, how dare he smile at her so brightly, lead her to believe he'd always be there?

Her fingers trembled as they hovered over the keypad of numbers. Was it worth it? Couldn't she just put Faith on the plane and change her number, disappear forever?

She supposed that might not exactly be legal, no matter the terms on which Frank had left the house two weeks ago.

She somehow found the nerve to finish dialing the number and bring the phone to her ear.

"Hello?"

She gulped. "Hello, Frank."

"Hello, Claire."

She cleared her throat. "I'm...I'm taking Faith to the states. And I don't think you have any right to try and stop me."

"I shouldn't think I do."

She shuddered with hatred at his indifference; though she'd expected as much, it didn't sting any less. "Alright. Good. I don't want anything from you, Frank. I am perfectly capable of taking care of her basic needs on my residency salary."

"Alright."

"But there's one thing. It's the least you can do. For the love you once bore me."

"I did not stop loving you, Claire."

"Oh, yes, you did," Claire spat.

“Claire — ”

“No, that’s enough,” she said, firmly. “Listen. I want nothing from you but the exact amount a certain therapy will cost. It’s expensive, but the doctor thinks it can really help Faith. I’m asking nothing else of you, Frank. Just around six thousand a year, broken up monthly, to pay for the therapy.”

Claire knew she likely could afford the therapy, but things would be tight. Rent on Long Island was not cheap by any means; neither was the general cost of living there, and neither was the kind of babysitter with the qualifications necessary for taking care of someone with Faith’s needs. Not to mention she wanted to start setting money aside for a service dog, which would be an enormous investment in and of itself, but one that would certainly be worth it if it would make it easier for them to be in public places. The extra money from Frank would be worth it, no matter how sick to her stomach it made her to ask it of him.

“What sort of therapy costs that much?”

“Equine therapy.”

He scoffed. “You really believe — ”

“Yes. I do.” She had to clench her teeth and take a very deep breath through her nose to stop herself from attacking again. “Will you pay for it or not? As the man who sired her, who owes her something? Will you?”

A slight pause, then he sighed. “Fine. I don’t care how much it is, I just don’t want to deal with it.”

Claire almost choked on the expletives she swallowed. “I understand. I’ve already set aside a separate bank account for you to make deposits.” She read him the account number and the routing number, along with exact amounts needed each month.

“All you need to do is make the deposits every month. And you’ll never hear from us again.”

He sighed again. “Claire…If I could change things…”

Claire almost fell for it…but she knew what he meant.

He did not mean: “If I could change my behavior, the things I said.” He meant: “If I could change what our daughter is.”

And it made her sick.

“Goodbye, Frank.”

Faith’s humming and rocking brought Claire back to Earth. She looked up from the box to see Faith holding her stuffed Simba in the air, mirroring Rafiki on the screen doing just that. Claire chuckled to herself and swallowed any remaining urge to cry. Claire put the christening picture back in the box, deciding that she’d make a decision on what to do with it later. Perhaps she could try her hand at scissors, combine the two pictures in one frame. It would certainly be satisfying to literally cut him out of those moments in Faith’s life.

But on the other hand…was that cruel? Would Faith someday learn to verbally or otherwise communicate the question: Where did Daddy go? Should she keep these pictures intact for that purpose? What Claire would want to say in response to such a question would be that Faith did not have a Daddy and that she didn’t need one. But perhaps that was doing her an injustice.

Claire reached for another picture.

Yes…that was something that could wait to be decided on.

Claire had made a considerable dent in her unpacking venture by the time Faith’s movie finished, and she was altogether quite satisfied with her work.

“What do you think of that, Faith?” Claire sighed contentedly as she removed the DVD from the player and put it back in the box. “Your disorganized-as-all-get-out Mummy is actually getting somewhere with her organizing.” Faith slid off the couch to take the box from her so she could put it back where she found it. “Isn’t that a marvel?”

Claire watched with piqued interest as Faith sat on her knees in front of the little entertainment center, the cupboard beneath the telly opened for her inspection. Faith had a system, some sort of arrangement of her movies that she always abided by. Not a single movie was ever out of place. Claire could not for the life of her decipherer what the system was; it was something created and used only by Faith. Claire had unpacked all their movies and put them inside, only for Faith to gut the entire thing and arrange them herself. It had greatly amused Claire at the time. She’d been at it for hours.

It didn’t take long for her to return The Lion King to its apparent correct position, and then Faith shut the cupboard.

“Alright, lovie. Time to brush your teeth.”

Claire stood and led Faith into the bathroom. Claire lifted her up onto the counter to sit and Claire got to work brushing her own teeth first. Faith had not yet mastered the coordination of tooth-brushing, and Claire still did it for her every night. But her psychiatrist had said that if Faith watched her mother do it enough times, something might strike a chord one day, and she’d suddenly be an expert at dental hygiene. Apparently, Doctor Garner had seen this happen plenty of times before.

So Claire brushed, tilting her head slightly toward Faith as usual, and then moving on to brush Faith’s teeth. When she finished, Claire handed her one of the little paper cups they kept in the bathroom.

"Rinse and spit," she crooned, as she did every night.

Routine was everything to Faith, and Claire had even begun clinging to the lifeline that was knowing every next move for every day. It soothed Faith's ever present anxiety and gave her expectations for every day, and it kept Claire grounded in the reality of their lives. This was why she'd been so scared to move. Moving to the house next door to them in Oxfordshire would have been a big enough change to merit Faith's discomfort, let alone moving across an ocean to a completely different style of living. There'd certainly been an adjustment period for her routine-conditioned little girl, but it hadn't been nearly as long or as difficult as Claire had anticipated.

Doctor Garner had suggested that no matter how disorienting things were when they'd arrived at the new apartment, the sooner Claire could reestablish that same routine that Faith had been accustomed to in Oxfordshire, the better. It was the reason she'd had furniture sent to the apartment before they'd even arrived. The sooner Faith could associate the new home with the commonplace furniture, the sooner she'd begin to realize this was home now. And all that, combined with maintaining their old routines in a new place was actually working quite well.

Teeth brushed and pajamas on, Claire tucked Faith into her bed. Faith's brand new princess comforter had arrived on Wednesday, and Faith was over the moon. Claire hadn't yet had a problem getting her to sleep since they'd put it on the bed. Claire filled the medicine dropper from the liquid Risperdal bottle, and Faith dutifully opened her mouth to let Claire drop it in, her face screwing up in the usual disgust to taste the bitter liquid.

"Swallow, please," Claire said, cocking an eyebrow. Faith grimaced, but obeyed. "Good girl."

Claire knew full well that Faith hated the taste of her medicine; it had been an utter nightmare to get her to take it every night at first. She'd had to bribe her with a Smartie every time she took it. Claire had a little stash of M&Ms (apparently the American equivalent) just in case Faith was ever particularly stubborn.

Claire set the medicine aside on the nightstand and tucked Horsie (who had been properly cleaned and disinfected after being dropped in the dirt in the stable) under her arm.

"There's Horsie, darling. So you can dream of all the horses you saw today, like Pippi." She leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Goodnight, love. Today was a very, very good day."

Faith smiled a toothy grin as Claire rose to turn on the nightlight. She stopped at the door to flicker off the main light and take one last look at her daughter, savoring the contentment settling in her chest and warming her from the inside out before shutting the door.

——

The next few days were not as smooth sailing.

Jamie had been quite right when he’d predicted the riding helmet would bother Faith. Since Mrs. Lickett only came by on weekdays, Claire decided it was as good a time as ever to give the helmet a try. After breakfast, Claire sat Faith on the couch and retrieved the helmet and Horsie.

“Alright, little girl.” She sat down, horse and helmet in hand. “Mister Jamie gave us this helmet. See?” She held it up to Faith. “Mister Jamie said you can’t ride Pippi unless you learn to wear the helmet.” She held both the horse and the helmet in front of Faith. “See? Horsie and helmet have to go together. Yes?”

Faith hummed happily and reached for Horsie.

“Alright…let’s see…” Claire carefully attempted to lower the helmet onto Faith’s head, but her face immediately darkened and she groaned in annoyance, averting her head.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s just a little hat. Come on, now…”

She groaned again, louder, shoving the helmet away with both of her hands.

“Wait,” Claire said quickly. “Wait here, Faith.”

Claire scrambled into her bedroom and into her closet, tearing through its contents, throwing things behind her until she found what she was looking for. A plain blue visor that she hadn’t worn in years, but kept around just in case.

“Here, Faith, look.” Claire returned to the couch and sat down. She put the visor on her own head. “See? A hat.” Faith stared at her blankly. Claire smiled and took off the visor, plopping it onto Faith’s curly head. “See?”

Faith giggled, and Claire felt a renewed sense of hope. She took the helmet back in her hands and placed it precariously atop her head. “See? It’s just a hat. It doesn’t fit Mummy’s big head, though. It was made just for you.”

Claire playfully swiped the visor off Faith's head and replaced it with the helmet, and she did not squirm away.

Claire gasped with contrived shock. "Look at you!" she gushed. Faith was beaming. "What a lovely hat, Faith!"

She hummed and bounced, and Claire laughed.

Victory!

And that was when she made her fatal mistake. She got cocky.

"Now let's just fasten it, and then you're properly wearing your new hat, yes?" Claire reached for the chin strap and fastened it. "There! All ready to ride!"

Faith's entire demeanor changed, her little brow furrowing. She reached for the chinstrap and tucked her fingers underneath, starting to tug.

"It's okay, darling."

Faith began groaning.

"Hey, it's okay, Faith." Claire, having prepared for exactly this, reached for the yellow stress ball from the stables on the coffee table. "Faith, here, love. It's okay." She put the ball in one of her hands, but Faith did not latch on. She let it fall to the ground, not removing her fingers from beneath the chin strap. Dread settled into the pit of her stomach.

“Faith…” Claire stooped down to retrieve the ball, then realized it had rolled halfway across the room. She got up from the couch to pick it up, and when she turned around, Faith was tugging forcefully on the helmet, the chin strap digging into her throat.

“Faith!” Claire dropped the ball again and practically leapt back onto the couch. “Stop!”

Fingers trembling, Claire frantically fumbled with the clasp of the chin strap, desperately trying to stop her daughter from choking herself. The second she was free, Faith gave a loud wail and hurled the helmet across the room, causing Claire to jump back in shock.

Claire was too stunned to scold her right away, her medical degree kicking into full gear as she examined her neck and throat for any marks, listened to see if her breathing was normal. Once she was certain everything was alright, Claire firmly seized one of her wrists.

“We do not throw things, Faith.” Faith began squirming, pawing at her mother’s hand. “Faith, look at me, please. I need you to look at my eyes, Faith.”

She gave a loud wail and a particularly hard yank.

“We do not throw things. Do you hear me, young lady?”

A sharp pain suddenly stuck itself into Claire’s hand, and she cried out. She immediately released Faith’s wrist and recoiled her hand into herself.

She bloody bit me.

Faith wriggled off the couch and bolted for the front door. She started tugging on the handle, determined to open the door and get as far away as her little legs would carry. Claire knew she’d really do it, too, if the door wasn’t locked.

Claire briefly sucked at the blood that started slowly trickling from her hand and then strode to the front door.

“You’re not going anywhere, little girl.” She scooped Faith around the torso with one arm and carried her, kicking and screaming into her bedroom to deposit her on the bed.

“Listen to me, Faith. If you do not calm down this instant you’ll not have any dessert tonight. Do you hear me?”

Faith shrieked. She’d certainly heard.

“I’m going to count to ten! If I get to ten and you’ve not stopped crying, no dessert.”

Claire hadn’t even gotten to three when Faith started throwing her stuffed animals in her direction. Claire continued counting calmly, knowing full well that the cotton toys would not hurt her. It was only when she reached for the lamp on her nightstand that she stopped at seven, lurching forward to stop her.

“No!” Claire shouted. Faith immediately released the lamp and clamped her hands over her ears, and a horrible, searing guilt burned her gut.

“Faith, baby, I’m sorry…I’m sorry, darling…” Claire sat down on the bed beside her and made to wrap her arms around her daughter, but she hesitated. Would she bite again, or punch, or kick?

Claire felt shameful tears stinging her eyes. Was she no better than Frank, raising her voice at her audio-sensitive daughter when she was being slightly difficult?

She shouldn’t have fastened the chin strap. She should have just let her get used to the helmet itself first. She maybe should have even waited for Mrs. Lickett to try the chinstrap. And now, because of her carelessness, she’d triggered her daughter’s biggest anxiety, and the poor girl was screaming her little head off, red in the face, because of her own mother.

Claire noticed, almost too late, that her hand was about to bleed on Faith’s brand new comforter. She hissed a frustrated “fuck” under her breath and quickly made her way to the bathroom to tend to it. She hastily wrapped some gauze around it and made her way back into Faith’s room to find her in the exact same position, hands on her ears, screaming. Claire sighed in defeat and quickly wiped her eyes clear of the tears that threatened to spill over. Perhaps it would be best if she just left her for now. There was no telling if she’d do something violent again if Claire tried to comfort her, and there was no consoling her otherwise. Claire decided to remove the lamp and anything else heavy that she could throw before leaving the room and shutting the door behind her.

Only when the door was shut did Claire finally allow herself to cry.

She didn’t care that Faith could have broken a lamp and shattered a lightbulb on the new wood floors; she didn’t even care that her own daughter had drawn blood from her with her teeth. What hurt worse than that was knowing that her little girl was in turmoil because of triggers that her own mother couldn’t understand, couldn’t make better, things that Faith was not able to communicate to her or to anyone. And to make matters worse, she couldn’t even comfort her. When she was a baby, before she was symptomatic, all Claire had to do was scoop her out of her crib and rock her, bounce her, sing to her, and all her anxieties would cease, her crying would stop. But now, the older Faith got, it felt like Claire was less and less capable of providing that comfort, that sense of security.

I’m her mother. That’s my job.

And I’m failing.

Claire dumped the contents of Faith’s room that she’d emptied onto the couch and collapsed next to them, letting her tears fall freely. Somewhere in her fevered brain, she had the sense to pick up her phone from the coffee table and text Gillian. She typed: “Hey, could I call you right now?” then quickly backspaced and tried again: “Hey, are you busy right now?” She hit send, and then frantically added in a second message: “No emergency. Just miss you and want to hear your voice.”

After she hit send the second time, she let her phone rest in her lap and rested her head back on the couch cushion. Leaving Gillian had been the hardest part of leaving England. She’d been Claire’s best friend all throughout college and medical school. They’d decided to be roommates sophomore year after meeting in the pre-med program, and they’d never lived separately again until Claire’s wedding, at which, of course, Gillian had been the maid of honor. They were two peas in a pod, though one wouldn’t think so to see them separately. Gillian was brash and loud, and delightfully inappropriate more often than not. Gillian liked to say that Claire was the odd one out, that she was much too proper.

Gillian had been there for Claire after Faith’s diagnosis when Frank had not. He’d muttered something about needing some air the minute they got home from the doctor, and Claire had immediately phoned Gillian, sobbing into the phone for hours.

“He’s going to leave me, he’s going to leave us…I can’t do this alone…”

Gillian scoffed. “Wi’ the way he’s acting now, I bloody hope he does leave. Feckin’ louse.”

Well, she’d gotten what she wanted.

“I never bloody liked the bastard. I knew I should ha’ said something when he proposed. God dammit.”

Gillian had been the one to assure her that she was a good mother, that Faith’s triggers were not her fault, that she was doing the best she could.

Claire just needed to hear that right now.

As expected, Claire’s phone buzzed shortly after. She picked it up, expecting it to be a text in response, but Gillian was already calling her. Claire smiled to herself and sniffled.

“Hello?” she said, already embarrassed at how snuffly she sounded.

Gillian was quiet for a moment, then said: “Oh, is that wee Faith?”

Apparently, her shrieks were loud enough to be heard across the ocean. Claire sighed. “Yup.”

“She’s having one of her meltdowns, and ye’re all upset and feelin’ like you failed her, aye? That ye made the wrong decisions?”

Claire’s eyes quickly welled up again. “Yes,” she croaked.

“Oh, Claire. Ye ken that lass thinks ye’re a bloody queen, don’t ye? She worships ye.”

“When she’s not biting me. Or throwing things at me.”

“Och, biting again, aye? Well…ye ken that’s the autism. That’s no’ yer wee Faith. She canna help it when it takes over.”

“I know. I just…”

“She loves ye, Claire. I’ve seen it wi’ my own eyes. And I ken that she knows how fiercely ye love her. The autism just makes it hard fer her to see sometimes, aye?”

Claire breathed shakily. “I know you’re right. I mean…I know all this already. It just…”

“I ken. Ye need the reassurance. ’Specially since the Sperm Donor hasnae given ye any such thing his whole miserable life.”

Despite the pain that that fact caused, Claire could not help but smirk at Gillian’s newest term of endearment for the man who sired Faith. “Right.”

“Must be hard over there, all alone.” Claire could hear the twinge of sadness in her voice.

“I miss you, too, Gi.”

“I’m counting down the days ’till Christmas. Canna wait to see my two favorite lasses.”

Claire smiled. “And I can’t wait to see my best friend, and my daughter’s Godmother.”

“I’ve got to run, I had to sneak into a supply closet to call ye. I’m in the middle of a shift — ”

“Gillian,” Claire admonished. “You shouldn’t be doing that — ”

“Nothing more important than making sure my girls are okay. Aye?”

Claire sighed and rolled her eyes, but her smile widened.

“I hear she’s still carrying on, but just let her get it out of her wee system. She’ll be back to her humming and her movies soon enough. Just wait it out. Ye ken.”

“Yeah…I know.”

“I love ye, Claire. And I miss ye. Hang in there. I’ll call ye again sometime this week when I’m no’ in the middle of a shift. I wanna hear all about this Long Island of yers.”

Claire chuckled. “Alright. I eagerly await.”

“G’bye.”

“Bye, Gi. Thank you. Love you.”

“Quite welcome.”

She hung up, and Claire dropped her phone in her lap again. Faith was going to be inconsolable for at least another half hour, and Claire didn’t think she could bear just sitting there and listening. She didn’t turn on the telly or any music, lest she miss a suspicious noise or not hear that she stopped crying, but she did get to work sorting through a few more boxes. On her way over to a particular stack, she tripped over something. She looked down to see the riding helmet. Claire grimaced and gave it a strong kick, sending it rolling under the coffee table. She almost laughed: she’d only just admonished her daughter for doing almost the exact same thing.

“Bloody fucking helmet bastard piece of shit…”

She dissolved into an incoherent string of expletives, grateful that Faith, nor anyone else, could hear her.

#outlander #outlander au #outlander fanfic #outlandwr fanfiction #claire fraser #fergus fraser #faith fraser

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subtlereferencetomyinterests · 4 years

Text

Something to Uplift Us

Ao3, MasterPost

Relationships: Romantic DLAMPR (Roman-centric, kinda Remus-centric), platonic Creativitwins!!!

Do I like this??? Meh. Is it something that I wrote? Yes. I will heal myself from SVS-R with Fluff.

Warnings: Remus Typical Nonsense, swearing, mentions of being in Quarantine, all sympathetic sides, non-sexual Pole Dancing

Word Count: 2,667

Roman was the essence of romance and it showed. For his entire existence, he'd been well acquainted with the hypothetical. If he were his own person, if he had a prince of his own, if he had the chance at a romantic relationship, he knew what he would do. Roman knew relationships, he always had, and it had tortured him to know that he'd never have one.

Which was why it frustrated him to no end that he hadn’t been the one to ask out his fellow sides. He’d honestly never thought that it would be an option. When he first developed his feelings for the others- Virgil, Patton, Logan, Janus, in that order- he had felt nothing more than excitement. He was giddy, he was light-headed, just to know that he could feel that way. He would spend hours daydreaming, just musing over the way they made his heart stop, but he never hoped for anything to come of it. He wasn’t sad, or mournful, or pining per se- just so caught up in the joy of feelings that he forgot that he could do something with them.

So he thought about it a lot, suffice to say. And all he had now was time to think; it was nearly month three of quarantine. Roman had wrung his brain out like a sponge for anything new to think about- The Imagination was practically turning gray! He tried to tend to it, truly he did, but it was getting harder every day. Creativity's fellow sides had all busied themselves taking up new hobbies- Virgil was teaching Patton to draw, Janus had learnt embroidery, Logan took up knitting, Remus made trash sculptures… They all seemed to be having their own little renaissance (complete with plague), and what was Roman doing? Wasting valuable free time!

In a fit of desperation, the artistic trait dived under his large canopy bed, rummaging around until his hand caught on the lip of a cardboard box. With no small amount of effort, he pulled the enormous container out from under his bed so that it could be properly examined. There, piled high in the box, were dozens of notebooks and sketchbooks- all of which filled to the brim with writing, drawings, and poetry. Having no clue what he was specifically looking for, Roman upended the box and watched the contents crash to the floor. Something in here would surely spark his mind! Perhaps some old work would catch his eye and inspire some redraws!

The side hadn't needed to search for long. Right at the top of the pile- bright pink, its cover dotted with puffy heart stickers- sat a large, spiral-bound sketchbook. You could almost see the light bulb pop up over Roman’s head as he squealed and snatched up the sketchbook. Flopping down onto his bed, he flipped it open in one hand and placed the other against his chest.

“Ooh, some of my best,” he cooed to no one in particular, gaze turned to the dozens of love poems surrounded by little doodles of hearts that filled the pages. This was the journal he’d confided in before the sides had all officially begun their relationship, filled with flowery prose about anything from Janus’ scales to Patton’s smile; from Logan’s laugh to Virgil’s freckles (a rare sight, usually hidden by make-up). Roman was so lost in nostalgia that when the ideas hit him, he nearly fell out of bed in excitement at his own thoughts.

Of course! He could take all of these old writings and compose them together, into one eloquent amalgam that would illustrate perfectly all those things that he’d been unable to articulate in the beginning! And it seemed only fitting that such a soliloquy be delivered in The Imagination- in the most gorgeous scenario he could fabricate! Somewhere open to a starry sky, for his left-brained loves- but it had to have ornate architecture, of course, and it had to be cozy. Oh, it was all coming together now.

Roman leapt out of bed, posing with his hand above his head and sinking deeper into The Mindscape extravagantly. He didn’t waste time looking around at the depressing half-formed scenery, sweeping his arms up and erasing the entirety of his half of The Imagination. Time to get to work.

Remus was stretched across the Commons couch, his head in Janus’ lap and feet in Logan’s. The TV hummed with whatever show they’d thrown on as background noise, and a few feet away at the counter, Patton and Virgil were hovering over some sort of scrapbook. Nobody had the energy for conversation; nobody had the energy for anything.

It was magnificently boring. The Duke already filled up an entire sketchbook, written half a dozen shamelessly smutty self-insert fanfictions, constructed and subsequently destroyed eldritch beings in his room, and bothered his boyfriends. So, all that was left to do was doze.

It didn’t help Remus’ tired state that Janus was running his fingers through his hair. The monotonous waking world was finally slipping away. Maybe there was something buried in his dreams that could hold his attention.

But just before sleep took hold, a white-hot energy ran through the trait’s body, jolting him so suddenly that he tumbled off of the couch and onto the floor. His arms and legs were all pins-and-needles as he looked up at his very concerned partners.

“There’s fuckery afoot!” Remus announced, wide-eyed. He pulled himself up and grinned, “You guys stay here!”

Without so much as a good-bye, Remus threw himself into the ground, saving himself the time of sinking out properly. After a moment’s silence, Janus resumed working on his embroidery.

“Should we go see what that was about?” Patton asked tentatively.

“Meh,” the three other sides responded in unison. After a moment, Janus added, “It is Remus, after all.”

Roman’s structure was coming together beautifully! Wide marble columns rose up and held aloft the glimmering silver ceiling, the middle of which was a sky-light open to thousands of stars and a brilliant full moon. Surrounding the opening was a spiral of stone roof- through the gaps of which even more astronomically accurate stars shone!

The inside of the building consisted of an immense mahogany stage, currently cloaked by thick velvet curtains and overlooking plenty of seats. Rather than traditional theater rows, Roman had arranged the seating like lovely cafe tables, all of which were given generous space from each other (Except for two at the very front, of course). Lanterns hung from the walls, casting the space in warm lighting. Creativity currently stood at the very back, thinking that it could use just a little more of something. With a smirk, the side snapped his fingers and the wall of the room was pushed backwards several yards. With a few more flicks of the wrist and dividing columns, a little lobby was formed.

He’d given the theater room maroon carpeting and rich gray walls, but the new back section needed brighter lighting and a more cream-canary color scheme. Now he could just finish the decor!

Or he would have, if not for the fact that at that moment someone crashed into his ribs with all the grace of a flaming motorbike.

“BRO!!!”

“ACK-!” was all Roman managed, as all the wind was knocked out of him. He glared up at his brother, who was sitting on his chest.

“I knew you were up to something! You wiped half of the whole fucking Imagination! What is this!?”

Roman wheezed, pushed Remus off of his chest, and finally pulled himself off the ground to catch his breath. His brother was spinning around the room already, eyes sparkling as he took in the building.

“I had to blank it, I needed my full focus,” Roman explained, back to work and filling the back wall with tall bookshelves, “and it’s a surprise, so don’t tell the others.”

“Oh, I won’t. Provided you let me in on whatever this is,” Remus had an ear-to-ear grin, bouncing on the balls of his feet. After a moment’s consideration, Roman hummed.

“I’m doing something nice for our boyfriends. I think we all could use a little pick-me-up, so do not ruin this!”

“I wanna do something nice for them! Lemme help!”

“You don’t even know what it’s for! Plus, it’s personal!”

“I already asked what it was for, Stupid.”

Roman huffed.

“I wrote them something. Hence the stage.”

“So, what, you’re gonna bring them all into your fancy library-opera for your poetry orgy and I sit in a corner somewhere and be quiet?”

“Ideally.”

“Not a chance, Whore!” Remus swung himself up onto the concession stand that Roman had just created, tearing into a box of candy (food made in The Imagination always tasted weirder than food or ingredients they conjured elsewhere in the Mindscape, but he didn’t particularly mind).

“Fine. What do you want to do?” Roman challenged, hands on his hips.

“I. Want. To. Help.”

Roman raised his eyebrows doubtfully. Grumbling, his twin started gesturing around the room as he spoke.

“The stars are too bright, they take the focus away from the stage instead of accenting it. The color of the curtains are too similar to the carpet. You’ve got Corinthian shit in there and bookstore lobby vibes in here, which is garbage and inconsistent.”

Roman blinked, his eyes following along with Remus’ criticism.

“Hm. You have a point.”

“I’m Creativity too, you know. I have some taste.” The Duke said, gnawing on the cardboard box that had contained Imagination Candy moments before.

“You’re wearing crocs and jorts, simultaneously.”

Remus waved his hand dismissively, hopping off the counter and rushing across the room.

“Whatever. Come on, I’ve got an idea how I can accompany your performance, too.”

“Oh, goody.”

Hours had past and little had changed in the Mindscape living room- Virgil and Patton had finished up their scrapbooking and were curled up together in an armchair, so Logan was sitting at the counter space previously occupied by the two and clacking away on his laptop, and Janus hadn’t moved. The muddled energy of the room had remained pervasive.

That was, until the door to the imagination slammed open, the doorknob cracking against the wall. Four heads shot up to see Remus and Roman, standing side-by-side (quite looking the part of identical twins, matching smiles and all).

“Oh god,” Janus groaned instinctively, carefully setting his embroidery on a side table, “What did you two do?”

“Yeah, I don’t trust that look,” Virgil said.

The twins scoffed in mock-offense, continuing their odd coordination.

“We try to do something nice,” exclaimed Remus.

“And not so much as a ‘thank you,’” added Roman solemnly. Eyes were rolled, but Patton perked up considerably (just as planned).

“Ooo, what are you talking about?”

“It’s a surprise!” Said The Duke, bouncing up and down. Creativity Prime gave a sweeping motion to indicate the still-open door to the Imagination, which had been steadily seeping into the common room with a bright new energy that it had been lacking for days.

“Follow us,” he instructed, disappearing through the door once more with Remus at his back. Patton bounced after them immediately, grinning.

The three left-brained sides exchanged glances, shrugged, and followed suit.

The twins were backstage in an instant, trusting their partners to figure out where their seats were on their own. Roman began pacing around as soon as they finished warming up.

“Are you sure you can do this? I’m still not sure if your performance is well-suited to acoustic guitar-”

He was cut off by Remus groaning exaggeratedly.

“I can work with anything, bitch.”

“Right, right,” There was a beat. “You’re sure you’re ready?”

“I’ve been ready. What’s going on with you?”

Rather than responding, Roman did another lap around the stage.

“C’mon! Stop pacing before I take a bonesaw to your legs!”

“Okay! Alright! I’m ready!”

Before Remus could come up with any more gruesome threats, Roman snapped his fingers and the curtains began to rise. He took his place half-sitting on a stool up front, a guitar in his arms. Behind him, Remus stood between two sturdy metal poles that rose from the stage and into the ceiling. You can already see where this is going.

When the stage was fully revealed, the lights above the audience dimmed. Figuring that the show would be rather awkward if said audience consisted of four people, the Creativities had The Imagination render dozens of prop-people. They moved and acted like a crowd of humans, but each individual was too vague to focus on for long. Thus it was made very clear where their fellow sides were, sitting right up front with a wide array of expressions from amazed to amused to bewildered.

Roman took a moment to steel himself and then began playing. Originally, he’d planned on spoken-word for his loves, but traditionally there is music involved in pole-dancing, so he’d made a few adjustments in order for Remus to be able to contribute.

Roman started singing, melting as the gazes of the real audience members turned awestruck (and also very flushed, likely from whatever surprisingly impressive poses his brother was pulling behind him). He liked to think that he poured his heart out into every performance, but for this one it felt quite literal.

Roman’s voice picked up gradually, and he could vaguely hear metal clanging behind him. It went on like that for a good few minutes- because if there was one thing the Twins weren’t, it was brief- before the show finally concluded. Roman stalled for a moment as both the imaginary and real components of the audience applauded uproariously. Remus swung down from the pole and hopped over to him.

“We bow now, Dumbass,” he hissed, noticeably out of breath.

“Oh- right.”

They took hands and took a couple bows as the clapping died down, standing back up with wide grins and red faces.

As soon as the auditorium was relatively silent, Patton rushed the stage. He outstretched his arms and hopped up and down excitedly.

“Lemme up!”

Roman grabbed his hands and pulled him on stage while Remus was still attempting to catch his breath. Morality leaned down to give The Prince a brief kiss, and then bounced over to the much more exhausted half of the act to give him the same treatment. He was grinning so wide that it looked painful, his face a bright pink. The Duke wore a matching expression, but the smile was much more unnatural in that preferred way of his.

“So you liked it?”

Rather than verbally responding, Patton grabbed the hands of both Creativities and made a cheerful ribbiting sound.

“It was wonderful,” Logan supplied, climbing the stairs on the side of the stage to meet them, Virgil and Janus right behind him. He was much less outwardly enthusiastic as the other spectacled side, but no less appreciative.

“Yeah, did you guys put all this together today?” Virgil asked, throwing an arm around Roman’s shoulders.

“What else did we have to do?” Remus answered with a shrug.

“Good point.”

Janus cleared his throat lightly, immediately drawing everyone’s attention. His eyes were noticeably rimmed with redness, a small smile on his face as he outstretched all of his arms.

“Here, all of you, now.”

Patton cooed.

“Group hug!”

Fitting six people into one hug may seem awkward, but it always seemed to work out for the sides. At least, Roman thought so. Virgil would fake exasperation at the affection, but they could all tell he loved it. Logan would try to maintain his dignity and fail miserably. Patton was a ball of warmth and energy that seeped into the rest of them. Janus was by far the best at giving hugs, though it could be considered cheating to have extra limbs.

At that moment it hit Roman that, perhaps he hadn’t started this relationship, but he was still a part of it. And that was all he could ever want.

These Performances inspired Remus’. They are oddly calming to watch, and super impressive!

@shrimp-crockpot

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bubbleweirdo · 4 years

Text

Alegría

Chapter: 4/?

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Summary: Javier takes Joy on a mission and they end up alone in a cabin. Words: 1455

Main relationship: Javier Escuella/OC

Other relationships: Charles Smith/OC, Arthur Morgan/OC

Characters: Van der Linde gang

The months followed one another and Joy and Tommy had found their place in the gang, just as they had learned to know their members. Tommy would help Jian to collect plants and also helped look after Jack and played with him. Sometimes he accompanied Javier to fish, after he realized the boy's interest in an old fishing rod he had found in a cart.

Joy apart from working with the horses also stood guard at the camp. She occasionally went hunting but what she really did more frequently was go with the girls to the nearest town to find information or for some pickpocketing. The only girl who never went with them was Jian, she seemed to dislike the idea too much and was content to stay sewing at camp. Mary-Beth accompanied her in her first thefts and advised her. Once she helped Joy put rouge on her lips to seduce a man and she almost fell back from how nervous she was at the feel of her gaze on her mouth.

She had just finished brushing and braiding Berry's tail -she thought it gave her a touch that went well with the mare's personality- when Javier approached her.

"I have already given you what I owe you." She said suspecting, to which he replied with a laugh. It had become a habit between them to bet five dollars for anything and they had reached a point where they were passing the same bill all the time.

“I'm not here for that. I wanted to suggest you come with Sean, Bill and me to steal a stagecoach. Jenny is busy and we need a damsel in distress.”

“Okay, sounds good. What’s the plan?”

“You pretend to be hurt along the way and when they stop to help you we show up and threaten them to give us the money.”

“Consider it done. I’ll get dressed.” She walked away to her tent and prepared the clothes to change.

The four rode together to the point where the stagecoach was to pass. Joy moved to the side of the road and the boys went into hiding, taking Berry with them.

“Good luck Joy. If any of those men try to seduce you, tell them that your heart already belongs to Sean MacGuire.” said the above winking at her before leaving. Joy rolled her eyes although the comment amused her. Sean was like that, he tried to flirt with all the girls but in the end he was more harmless than anything else. The first few times he did that she felt awkward but soon realized that he wasn't really serious about it. Although she had a suspicion that if the case arose, he wouldn’t refuse either.

The stagecoach appeared as planned and she stepped out on the road for help. As soon as she saw the boys appear from behind to surround them, she discreetly pulled out her revolver.

“Please! Could you… give me all your money?” she said aiming at them. Bill got into the stagecoach and started searching. Everything was going well until suddenly several riders appeared from behind and started shooting at them.

“What the hell?” exclaimed Sean shooting them back. Bill kept what he could get in his satchel and Javier whistled calling the horses. They all quickly mounted theirs and fled.

“Let’s split up!” Shouted Bill when a bullet threw his hat away. They all agreed and Joy soon lost sight of him and Sean. Although they had gained ground and many of their pursuers had gone after their companions, she and Javier still had a couple of them behind. Luckily they lost them for a moment and found an abandoned cabin, after shooing their horses away they went inside.

It was late. The sun was setting and it was better not to tempt luck by going out.

“We should spend the night here. When it’s dawn we will return to the camp but in the meantime we should take turns to stand guard by the window.” Javier said. Joy tugged on her skirt to position it better, uncomfortable. She had become too used to wearing pants.

“Okay. But you start.” She smiled and got up. Javier huffed and moved to the side of the window as she began to inspect the cabin. It seemed like it had been abandoned for a long time, the dust covered everything. It wasn’t very large, but consisted of a small room in which the bedroom was located. She went in and opened the drawer of the nightstand and what she discovered filled her with joy. She took the objects and ran to the door of the room.

“Looks like they left behind some jewelry!” She looked up at him, wiggling her eyebrows as she showed him a necklace and a pair of earrings that seemed quite expensive.

“I'm glad. At least that will fix the stagecoach mess.”

“It wasn't that disastrous, we got money just the same.”

“Yeah, but we almost died for, what? A hundred dollars? My intel said there would be at least five hundred.” He sighed.

“…You’re right then.” She admitted. She put the jewelry in her satchel and continued to examine the house. Javier's stomach growled and Joy gave him an amused look. “Are you hungry?”

He shifted somewhat embarrassed in his seat before nodding. She pulled two cans of peaches out of her bag and handed him one. He accepted it and lifted it up a bit in thanks. Joy replied with a smile and watched as he opened the can with one of his knives. His hands had small scars and some recent scratches, but still retained elegance.

“I’m curious, how long have you been in the gang and how did you end up in it?” She asked before shoving a slice into her mouth.

“About three years. Dutch and I ran into each other trying to steal some chickens. We laughed and he gave me a place in the gang. The chickens we have? We brought them.”

“Can’t be. Really?” Joy laughed. “What were you doing stealing chickens?”

“When I got here I didn't know any English. I was starving and nobody cared. So I ended up trying to steal to survive.”

“If you were so bad here, why did you leave Mexico?” She pointed out curiously. He snorted.

“I killed a man. An important one. If I had stayed they would have killed everyone I love.”

Joy was speechless and Javier returned his attention to the landscape behind the window.

“Why did you do something like that…?” She whispered, overwhelmed. He gave her a bitter smile.

“Because of a woman.” She opened her mouth, surprised, but said nothing. “The reason wasn’t only that, but yes, she played an important part.” He paused, but it lengthened into an uncomfortable silence. Joy could see how he searched for the words trying to add something.

“You don't have to talk about it if you don't feel comfortable...”

“No… I think I should let it out…” He sighed. “We were lovers and I was crazy for her. But in the end she chose. And she chose him. I thought she loved me but I was wrong, and I got angry. She chose a military man from the government, un bastardo corrupto. But what hurt the most is that he hit her. He treated her like garbage. I didn’t understand why. I still don’t understand why…” He tightened his hand around the can and swallowed hard. It was then that Joy realized he was holding back the urge to cry. Gingerly she got up and sat next to him, clumsily putting her hand over his. “I guess I’m not done getting over it. I have spent nights with other girls but... Sometimes I think that I will never love anyone like her.”

She sighed. She felt a little identified with what he felt.

“I may not understand half of what you feel but... I do am afraid of being with a person. It’s not the same, I have never been in love... But I have been hopeful. And I understand the fear of being used, of not being enough. And I want to believe that everything will come. But first you have to heal.” She gave him a soft smile and he swallowed again. He snorted and smiled back.

“Thanks Joy. I’m sorry I let go of all this.”

She laughed.

“I was the one who asked.”

At dawn they returned to camp as planned. Joy was happy, she felt closer to Javier after this and she liked having a new friend. Not that they weren't friends before, but for her, such an intimate conversation had been the confirmation she needed.

#Javier Escuella/OC #Javier Escuella x OC #Javier Escuella/Reader #Javier Escuella x Reader #Red Dead Redemption 2 #RDR2 #Fanfic #My writing

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ericsonclan · 4 years

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A Pile of Autumn Fun

Summary: Brody, Mitch and Willy go to the park to have some fun with leaf piles.

Word Count:1760

Read on AO3:

Notes: For @stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale‘s October challenge Day 25: Leaf piles

Garbage stared vacantly at the spot in front of her, her teeth crunching down on the crisp autumn leaves that were on the grass. A low, happy hissing sound emitted from the possum as she devoured the leaves only to be rudely interrupted when she heard a loud war cry approaching at a rapid pace.

“Aaaaah!” Willy exclaimed, jumping up in the air and landing in the pile of leaves with a fit of laughter while Garbage jumped around here and there, scurrying around the park with her little paws as she hissed.

“Fuckin’ A! That was awesome, Willy!” Mitch yelled over at his little brother whose head popped out from the decimated pile of leaves. A plethora of leaves were stuck in Willy’s hair as he hopped up and ran over to his brother.

“Bet you can’t beat that!” Willy smiled up at Mitch who had a smug expression on his face.

“Just you watch,” He ruffled his young sibling’s hair, causing orange and red leaves to tumble out and onto the ground. “Brody, pass me a rake.”

Brody looked over at her boyfriend with a warm smile. “Okay,” She tossed one of the rakes she held which Mitch caught with relative ease. Jogging over to the leaf pile, the couple worked to reform it while Willy picked up armfulls of leaves and tossed them in to join the pile. Snagging up a spare few, Willy offered them to his secret pet possum who looked less than impressed but accepted the treats anyway.

“You sure that shit’s okay for Garbage?” Mitch looked over at Willy who had placed Garbage on top of his head. The possum seemed fine with it as long as she got more leaves. Mitch had been unsure of Garbage when he had discovered Willy playing outside of Ericon’s Diner in the dumpster with it. But the little creature made Willy really happy and was rather fond of him.

“Yeah, it helps her tummy,” Willy scratched the possum’s head who let out a throaty hiss that showed that it was content. Mitch shook his head and returned to working on the leaf pile with Brody.

“Ever do this when you grew up?” Brody glanced over at Mitch.

“Eh, the trailer park wasn’t exactly the best place to make leaf piles.” Mitch’s rake brushed a few more leaves onto the pile. “But that didn’t stop me and Willy from making some until we were forced to go to a park instead. So not much has changed,” Mitch stopped and gestured around at Marsh Park. “What about you?”

“Yeah, Ruby and I made them all the time. In front of my house were these huge trees and they would create so many leaves. Ruby and I used to have a contest to see who could make the most leaves fly in the air.” Brody chuckled. “We sure made a mess.”

“Willy and I used to do the same thing.” Mitch took a step back, a proud smile at the giant leaf pile that he had made with his girlfriend.

“How about making it a contest?” Brody’s voice made Mitch glance over. “Whoever loses has to buy apple cider for everyone from that stand at the front of the park.”

“Hell yeah! That sounds fun! Willy, you down for a game?”

Willy looked over at the couple with a huge grin. “Yeah, sounds awesome!”

“Then it’s settled.” Brody smiled and moved back to where she deemed would be a good starting point. After a minute of discussion, the running order was set. Willy would go first, followed by Brody and last Mitch. They would have three turns each and whoever made the biggest mess of leaves won. Willy bounced excitedly on the balls on his feet as he waited for the go ahead.

“Ready…. Set… Go!” Brody called out, causing the fifteen year old to dash forward and with a mighty cannonball land into the leaf pile, causing a flurry of leaves to fly up. Brody and Mitch gave their applause and soon the three worked to build up the pile again for Brody. Brody ran forward with all her might and with a high jump landed in the leaves. Reds and oranges filled the air as leaves slowly fell to the ground.

“That was pretty badass,” Mitch strolled forward towards his girlfriend.

“Think you can beat that?” Brody smiled up at her boyfriend.

“Heh, of course!” Mitch had a smirk on his face until he noticed a few leaves in Brody’s hair. Without speaking he started to help her take out the leaves while Willy worked on rebuilding the pile. Brody soon joined in to help but paused when Mitch's hand brushed against her face as he reached for a leaf. The two paused and looked into each other’s eyes, Mitch’s hand hovering by Brody’s ear.

“Whatcha two doing? The leaf pile is done.” Willy’s voice snapped the couple back into reality, causing Mitch to pull back his hand as Brody backstepped. Both had bright blushes on their faces that they tried to hide while stumbling through some sentences.

“We should continue,” Brody whispered.

“Shit, yeah, umm, it’s my turn.” Mitch moved back with Willy and Brody to the starting point and waited for Willy to tell him when to go. As soon as he did, Mitch was off like a shot and threw his body into the pile of leaves causing the whole thing to explode on impact. He poked his head out from the pile, a proud smirk on his face.

“Whoa, that was awesome, Mitch!” Willy scampered over with Garbage who squirmed out of the teen’s arms and onto a small pile of leaves, immediately returning to her snack time and paying no attention to the humans.

“You better watch out, Brodes.” Mitch walked forward and stopped in front of his girlfriend. “Or you might end up being the one paying for apple ciders.”

“Hah! That was just round one,” Brody got on her tiptoes and flicked off a leaf from her boyfriend’s head. Mitch smiled down before gathering up the leaves and strolling back with the others to the starting point. The next two rounds were just as fierce. Fits of laughter and battle cries filled the air as the trio jumped into the pile of leaves, making the air dance with autumn colors. It was a close competition that was leaning in Mitch’s favor until a rocky ending when Garbage had stood in his way, causing him to fall flat on his butt. Luckily his two competitors were kind enough to give him a second chance. Brody and Willy were close behind, but with Mitch’s mighty final jump he had blown the competition away.

“Hell yeah!” Mitch pumped his fist. “I’m the winner!” He smiled over at Brody who was applauding her boyfriend’s victory. “Guess you’re buying apple cider.”

“I guess I am.” Brody helped her boyfriend up. “Wanna jump in a few more piles of leaves first?”

Mitch’s smile grew as he kneeled down and excitedly started scooping up leaves in his arms. Brody laughed and helped Mitch until the leaf pile was complete.

“So, who wants to go first? Or should we all jump in?” Brody dusted off her knees and looked up only to find that Mitch was no longer there.

“Surprise attack!” Mitch wrapped his arms around Brody and pulled her into the pile of leaves.

“Mitch!” Brody giggled as she playfully wrestled away from Mitch’s arms. The two rolled around in the pile of leaves, both trying their best to get the upper hand. Tumbling and giggling, they stopped when they realized that their lips were mere inches from each other. Both looked at each other and were leaning forward to capture the other’s lips when Willy’s war cry rang out from behind them. Mitch wrapped his arms around Brody and rolled out of the way of his little brother’s wild jump just in time.

“Willy! What the hell! You gotta watch out! Brody could’ve been hurt.”

Willy's face dropped for a second.

“It’s fine, Mitch,” Brody scooted up to a sitting position and placed a hand over her boyfriend’s. She looked over to Willy with a gentle smile. “Just be more careful next time and give a warning.”

“Okay.” Willy whispered, kicking his feet against some leaves.

They didn’t want to end on a sour note. Mitch had an idea of how to prevent that. “How about we make the biggest leaf pile and all jump in?’

Mitch’s suggestion made Willy look up with wide eyes, an excited joy dancing within them. “Yeah!”

The three worked hard to gather as many leaves as they could. Once they were satisfied with the large hill of leaves, they took their spots at the starting point.

“Ready… Set…. Go!” Mitch yelled and the three sprinted forward, jumping into the pile and giggling as they threw leaves up into the air. After a few minutes of rolling around they all rose to their feet and helped brush off the leaves in each other’s hair.

“Well, that was fun. You two ready for some apple cider?” Brody smiled over at the pair of brothers.

“Fuck yeah!” Mitch exclaimed high-fiving his younger brother.

“Oh, if they have hot chocolate can I have that instead?’ Willy asked, swaying back and forth nervously as he glanced up at Brody with hopeful eyes.

“Sure,”

Willy ran forward and gave Brody a quick hug. “You’re the best!”

“Hey, I thought I was the best!” Mitch called out to Willy who was already sprinting ahead holding Garbage and had only one thing on his mind.

“Come on,” Brody intertwined her fingers with Mitch’s. “Let’s go.”

“Alright,” Mitch smiled over at Brody while they made their way to catch up with the speedy teen. Mitch was so focused on getting to the apple cider stand that he didn’t notice that Brody had leaned over and placed a kiss on his cheek until it was over.

He looked over at her with a slight blush. “What was that for?”

“Just felt like it. Today was really fun.” Brody looked over at Mitch then back to Willy who was struggling to hold onto Garbage while he ran.

“Yeah it was.”

Mitch and Brody continued to walk through the park, taking their time as they enjoyed each other’s company and watched Willy in amusement as he jumped up and down, waving his arms animatedly when he saw that the stand indeed had hot chocolate. It really had been a fun autumn day.

#twdg #twdg mitch #twdg brody #twdg willy #twdg garbage #twdg bomb family #twdgoctoberchallenge #fanfic #ericson's diner au

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ramblingguy54 · 5 years

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26, 29, 30, 36?

*cracks knuckles*Alright, let’s do this.

26: The late Robin Williams & Hayao Miyazaki are two particular people in my life I’ve idolized for what happiness/imagination they’ve brought into others lives. Robin Williams untimely passing still hurts for me to look back on because this man made it his mission to bring so much joy into other peoples lives through his acting on the big screen, whether it was dramatic or comedic. That’s what I found the most impressive about Robin’s range in acting. He could be an over the top funny individual, but Robin’s acting chops were in a league of their own. Whether he was behind the microphone having the time of his life as Genie on Aladdin or giving a powerful dramatic performance on Good Will Hunting as Will’s therapist, I could feel the unconditional kindness. There was something about Robin’s acting power that would usually manage to reel me in. Even if I never knew him in real life, obviously, this man just radiated with so much kindness that I felt from his entire presence on screen. It’s seriously unfortunate what became of Robin Williams in the end with his unexpected death, but his legacy has inspired me to be kinder to others in real life. As for Hayao Miyazaki, this guy is a huge factor in why I got into loving anime related stuff all the more, as his creations in storytelling and the art itself for the movies were beyond unlike anything I still have yet to seen be topped quite frankly. It’s so easy for me to get emotionally lost in his films like My Neighbor Totoro, Princess Mononoke, Castle In The Sky, and Spirited Away. This man never ceases to amaze me with how usually impactful and in depth his films are. They’re so full life that it’s easy to lose sight of whats happening in the actual story at times. Mayazaki understood how to breathe a ton of humanity into creating such resonating works of fiction. Have a much greater appreciation for them in my adult years. There’s a reason why they inspired companies, like Pixar, to create immersive stories of their own.

29: Favorite films range from Zootopia, Wreck It Ralph, M. Night Shyamalan’s Unbreakable, Aladdin (1992), The Secret Of NIMH, The Lion King (1994), The Incredibles, UP, Ratatouille, Wall-E, Finding Nemo, Inside Out, Kung Fu Panda 1 & 2, How To Train Your Dragon Trilogy, Toy Story 1-4, The Great Mouse Detective, Lilo & Stitch, The Emperors New Groove, A Goofy Movie, Good Will Hunting, The Fox And The Hound, The Land Before Time, The Brave Little Toaster, Frozen, Shrek 1 & 2, Coraline, Paranorman, Kubo And The Two Strings, The Muppets (2011), Princess Mononoke, Castle In The Sky, My Neighbor Totoro, Kiki’s Delivery Service, Spirited Away, Porco Rosso, Summer Wars, Beauty and the Beast (1991), Winnie The Pooh (1977 & 2011 iterations.), The Peanuts Movie, The Princess And The Frog, The Jungle Book (2016), Scooby Doo On Zombie Island, Harry Potters’ 1-7, Christopher Nolan’s Batman Trilogy, Wonder Woman, Sam Raimi’s Spiderman 1 & 2, The Black Panther, Thor & Thor Ragnorok, The Avengers, Avengers Infinity War & Endgame, Spiderman Into the Spiderverse, Captain America Trilogy, Iron Man Trilogy, Star Wars Episodes 4-8, and The Breakfast Club to stop this list from getting any longer. =P

30: Favorite TV shows range from Cowboy Bebop, Avatar The Last Airbender, Yu Yu Hakusho, Digimon Adventure 01 & Tamers, Teen Titans (2003), Batman The Animated Series, Ed, Edd,& Eddy, Samurai Jack, Courage The Cowardly Dog, The Powerpuff Girls (Screw that garbage reboot.), Chowder, Bojack Horseman, DuckTales (1987), DuckTales (2017), Gravity Falls, Code Geass (This series has shaky writing in a number of areas, but that ending was beautiful.), Amphibia, Steven Universe, Oban Star Racers, Made In Abyss, Stranger Things, Gargoyles, My Hero Academia, Naruto (I’ve got a soft spot for this series despite my MANY problems with its story later on.), Pokemon (Serious nostalgia overload!), Dragonball Z (My very first anime series I got into through the Toonami block. A real shocker I know. LOL!), Gurren Lagann, Kill la Kill, The Promised Neverland, Death Note, Chip N Dale Rescue Rangers, Sonic SatAM, Talespin, Darkwing Duck, The Grim Adventures Of Billy & Mandy, Robot Chicken, A Pup Named Scooby Doo, Kim Possible, Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood, and Fullmetal Alchemist (2003).

36: My three dream scenarios I’d like to fulfill?

1: Become A Voice Actor

Been interested in voice acting since I was a young teen, but have been in a conflicted state over these recent passing years in my life on whether or not I’d like to approach that route. There’s a lot of commitment I’d have to put into auditioning my butt off for roles I may or not get. Then comes the consistent practicing to keep my vocal chords in shape, so I don’t get rusty whatsoever. The industry for this kind of job can be hard to get recognized in too by how many other notable well known VA’s there are already. Not to mention, from what I’ve researched up on being a voice actor doesn’t bring in the money naturally, as it’s more of a passion job which that’s terrific and all, but if I want to partake in this profession I’ll have to juggle a job along with that which putting all those factors in my head honestly makes me intimidated. Ahhh well, it’s just something I’ll have to wait and see on if I can make that idea into a reality or not. No need to rush myself, of course.

2: Taking Up The Mantle Of Reviewing Shows & Films For A Living

Fiction, just like for many people, has been a great deal of helping me in my life moments of stress, solitude, depression, and anger. I’d love nothing more than to further express that to anyone out there in reviewing in great detail certain films or shows that I’ve come to love over these years in my life so far. Mostly for animation though, as its been a gateway for finding many gems of quality films or series. It never ceases to surprise me on how creative and powerful animation can be with its inventive ways of getting me to become an emotional mess. While I do enjoy live action series and films they pale in comparison to the beauty animation has brought into my life, since my early childhood of watching shows on Cartoon Network, Toon Disney, and Nickelodeon to a smaller degree. I’d like to think I’m good enough with how I present my reasons on why I feel so strongly connected to these stories showcasing characters trying to find hope in their own hard times. I try my hardest to take moments of my own life and find ways to connect it with whatever story I’m getting into next, so it can be all the more a special experience for myself. It’s important to put whatever character resonates with you most in their shoes for why you feel their emotional journey connecting with your own life on every conceivable level possible. That will make it when you write these kinds of reviews a very empowering read for others to feel either heard in their own feelings or simply giving others a new perspective to consider on this piece of fiction you’re discussing. Seeing some of my own particular analytical posts in the past here on Tumblr garner some attention from people gives me a boost of feeling better about potentially making this choice.

3: Starting A Family Of My Own…?

I can’t begin to tell ya how many times I’ve gone back and forth for getting married in the distant future to become a father has sped through my mind. On one hand, it scares the crap out of me to be taking up that big of a responsibility. However, on the other hand its deeply fascinated me emotionally of creating life through love for your significant other in starting your own family tree. I’d love to be able to raise kids of my own to pass on the lessons I’ve learned in life to make them become better people in the distant future, while showering them with unconditional love and affection. That would fill me up with such an indescribable joyous feeling to hear their own dreams and desires on what they want to accomplish in life. While I’d be a strict parent, I wouldn’t be a hard headed one quick to dismiss their own complaints if they had problems with how I handled things, once they start to get older. The kind of parent I’d want to be is an understanding open minded one who doesn’t judge their son or daughter for when they have an issue with me. Just because I’m a parent in that scenario doesn’t put me on a pedestal of immunity from criticism. Granted, I certainly don’t want to be a doormat for them to try taking advantage of either, but it’s also important to not let your parental role go to your head, too.

Although, I don’t plan on even trying to make this last dream of mine happen anytime soon. This is something that is MUCH later down the road that I wish to have happen. However, I won’t lie and say that I haven’t considered just staying content as a single guy for the rest of my life relying on close friends to bring me joy equivalent to this dream. While I adore the concept of creating life through love and being a father, there’s a shit ton of responsibility that comes with it. The life of a parent is not just putting your all into it. You gotta give more than just 100% when wanting to be a parent. It’s a serious test of your spiritual endurance, which I’m not sure is something I’ll ever have the courage to do, but then again things can change in life on the flip of a dime, so I’ll see how this all plays out for myself. Maybe I’ll stay happily single or I’ll happily be raising kids.

Gee, I wonder why this dream of being a parent resurfaced in my head recently this year? Oh yeah, it was thanks to this character here.

Seriously, Della Duck holds a real special place in my heart for making me feel these kind of feelings yet again. Darn you space mom! LOL.

Thanks for the ask, man.

#asks and answers #ask away #ask the rambler

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naegiriweek · 5 years

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Day Six: Flutter

A/N: Well, here’s my submission for Day Six of Naegiri Week 2019. It takes place immediately after my previous fic “Komaru Alive! Makoto Lashes Out!”, so I recommend reading that first for context. You can find it on Fanfiction.net or AO3; my username is "WiiFan2009". This is also my first time trying to write a fic from an entirely first-person perspective, so I’m not sure I did the best job on this one. Any reviews and comments on either of those two sites regarding the quality of this chapter would be very much appreciated. Enjoy!

Day Six: Flutter

The Ultimate Detective and The Ultimate Hope Gaiden: Twin Fluttering Reflections

I watched him leave my room to go to sleep across the hall. Finding the energy to stand on my own two feet again, I went to my closet to pull out a nightgown. Unlike my usual lavender wardrobe, this one was emerald green. As I removed my business suit and pulled the nightgown over my head, my thoughts wandered to the boy whose eyes it matched, my heart fluttering as I smiled.

“Why? Why does my heart flutter when I’m near you? Why were you able to break down the walls I erected to protect myself? Why is your smile able to light up a room, even during a time as awful as the Tragedy?”

My smile fades as I think back to the three most miserable times in my life; when I purposely ignored him for keeping a secret from me, when I sentenced him to die in that utter sham of a trial, and today, when he told me he hated me after we found out his sister was alive in Towa City with only Toko to protect her. More tears leak from my eyes as I become filled with guilt and shame.

“Why? Why does my fluttering heart plummet like rock candy when we argue? Why do I feel like an utter failure whenever you’re mad? Why do I feel inadequate whenever my cold personality fails to be the emotional support you need and deserve?”

I crawl into bed, my heart fluttering at the memory of every time we make up. I remember the warmth I felt when we hugged each other in comfort. I recall the soothing, content feeling that spreads throughout my body whenever I’ve comforted him after his nightmares and embraced him in slumber to protect him from his demons.

There’s no mistaking how I feel; the butterflies that keep fluttering in my stomach whenever I think of him can’t be explained any other way. You’d think that my next course of action would be clear, especially taking into account that we dated in another life. But my courage hasn’t caught up with my brain, so I nestle my head on the pillow, imagining him hugging me and rubbing my back, confessing my feelings only in the privacy of my room for now.

“I love you, Makoto Naegi. I love you so much. You make my heart flutter so high…”

XXX

I entered my room, closing the door behind me. Despite our talk earlier, despite how hearing her forgiveness made my heart flutter, I still felt deeply ashamed for how I blew up at her today. I grabbed a pair of lavender footsie pajamas and boxers before heading towards the bathroom.

“Maybe a shower will calm me down.”

Disrobing, I turned the faucet until gentle needles of warm water shot out of the shower head. Placing my change of clothes on the counter, I stepped in, lathering my body with soap and cherry blossom-scented shampoo. It’s not lost on me that I’m using hair product that happens to have the same scent as the flowers I gave her during Junko’s Killing Game. I’d be too embarrassed to say it to her face, but being coated in a scent that reminds me of her helps to keep my peace of mind, as well as some degree of happiness in this world of despair where I’ve lost almost everything. As I let the water wash away the suds and coat my body in the shampoo’s aroma that makes me imagine that she’s embracing me and holding me close, I feel my heart flutter; I can’t help but think of her.

“Why? Why does my heart flutter when I’m near you? Why were your expectations of me so high? Why did you always lend me a helping hand whenever I needed it? Why did you decide to be my friend?”

The water growing cold, I shut off the knob, letting the now chilly water drip off of me before I grab one of the nearby towels, attempting to dry myself off as my mind wanders to places that made me shiver as much as the chilly water.

“Why? Why do I tend to shoot myself in the foot in front of you? Why do I lash out at you whenever I’ve reached my emotional limit? Why do I feel so cold whenever you’re not around?”

I’m as warm as I can possibly get from the friction, so I hung the towel back on the rack, slipping on my boxers before smoothly sliding in my fuzzy footsie pajamas and zipping them up. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, I can’t help but smile at the thought of how my pajamas match her eyes. Shaking my head as my heart starts to flutter again, I walked out of the bathroom and over to my bed, laying down on it as I can’t help but continue to think about her.

I recall our brief but blossoming relationship prior to losing our memories. I remember how she always seems to giggle at my embarrassing antics. I look back on how she kept saving my life, from Sayaka’s murder trial to protecting me from getting stabbed by Junko to helping me escape from the garbage pit after Junko tried to crush me to death.

Shivering at the memory of waking up from nightmares of my execution, I rub at my torso, longing for the warmth her arms and her presence provide whenever I have a bad dream. I blush as I remember how she always embraced me and whispered soft reassurances in my ear whenever I felt terrified and overcome. My face turns red with embarrassment as I remember how we fell asleep together more than once after she lulled me into slumber by stroking my hair, only for my embarrassment to give way to joy and calm after I realize that I happily slept like a baby.

I look at the time and realize that it’s way past my normal bedtime. Part of me wants to go back to her room, to knock on her door and admit how much I want to be held in her warm embrace that makes my heart flutter and lulls me to sleep. But my guilt and shame make me reluctantly reject the idea, so I slide under the blankets, and slowly slip into slumber. As I start to think that it’s cold without her, a realization slips through my lips as I drift off.

“I think I love you, Kyoko Kirigiri. Is that why my heart flutters when I think of you?”

#Fanfic #submission #day 6 #naegiri2019

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toonsforkicks22 · 6 years

Text

The Heart that Smarts (Unikitty! fic)

WARNING: Slight Lego Movie 2 spoilers in this!

_________

CRASH!

The beaker hit the floor, covering it of glass shards and possibly radioactive slime. The one responsible for the mess didn’t even flinch, nor even noticed as a couple of robots arrived on the scene to clean it up.

Dr. Fox stared into space, her green eyes filling the specs of her glasses as it all began to dawn on her. The realization hit her like that meteor she theorized had been made of gumball. (1) However, unlike that, the vixen knew she was certainly not wrong about this.

“I’m in love with him...” she murmured to herself, failing to notice the two robots behind her trying to fight off a giant green tentacle emerging from the floor as caused by the spilled chemical contents.

“We got a situation here!” one of them cried, trying to beat the abomination away with a broom.

“Oh, man, this is so gross!” the other exclaimed, entangled by said tentacle.

Once again, Dr Fox didn’t even hear them. Her mind drifted to all the possible ways she could have figured these feelings out sooner.

Hawkodile, the embodiment of strength, kindness, and especially friendship. And she was in love with her best friend!

“How could I not have figured this out sooner?” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling, squeezing her cheeks in an ecstatic grin while her lab was falling apart behind her.

While more robots fought and attacked the now growing tentacle monster with every weapon they had, the female fox reflected on every memory that gave her a reason for these sudden feelings.

He always put his life on the line for his friends, especially for her.

He fought a videogame platform in order to rescue her (and didn’t seem the least bit mad as Richard when it was revealed to be just a simulation for just in case they really did get attacked by actual game characters). (2)

Whenever she was tired or sick, he would always offer a warm, comforting hand on her shoulder (or her mouth in case she was on the verge of puking).

He would drop his seriousness to have fun with her and the others. And take pride in being dorky and adorable about it (or ‘adorkable’ as Dr. Fox liked to use sometimes).

He would do anything to impress his friends and make himself worthy, even if it was obviously unnecessary. She still remembered when he impersonated a robot and would have gotten himself killed by her combat machine if she hadn’t intervened. (3)

And out of any of them, Hawkodile seemed to always turn to Dr. Fox for aid. She recalled that one time when his sparkle matters were getting out of control on account of having a secret crush. (4) Or maybe she might have thrown herself into assisting him since it was all for science and saving her best friend, she wasn’t sure. But all the genius knew was that Hawkodile’s crush on whoever was over (she couldn’t remember if it had been the flower store owner FeeBee or someone else in the Unikingdom). Guess he and that person he used to crush on just didn’t work.

But she and Hawkodile, they were the perfect team! And Dr. Fox was already deliberating how they would become the perfect couple!

“I love him!” she cried, practically deaf to the ongoing explosions of the lab as the robot servants stressed an ongoing battle with the monster.

“Fire the torpedoes!” one of them shouted.

Emitting a girlish scream, Dr. Fox danced out of her lab, leaving behind a larger mess for the servants to clean up. _____

Upon realizing these newfound feelings, Dr. Fox spread her news across the kingdom. She wanted to tell everyone that she was in love with her best friend, before eventually telling Hawkodile. She wanted to prepare the entire universe for their love!

At the flower shop, FeeBee was just arranging vase of flowers she just picked. Just as they were looking perfect, the décor popped right at her face, along with Dr. Fox’s wide-eyed expression.

“I’m in love with him!” Dr. Fox cried, receiving a rather terrified smile and nod from FeeBee. ~

Craig the moose farmer (5) watched as her vegetables were on the verge of growing. She grinned from antler to antler as all her hard work was finally going to pay off.

“Almost there!” she encouraged lovingly as she saw the leaves lift, and the first patches of red were emerging. “After months of hard labor, I’ll finally grow the perfect tomatoes!”

As said vegetables began to form at her anticipation, they met an unexpected end. Craig’s smile fell instantly as “homemade ketchup” splattered all over her face, leaving behind the remains of what could have been a beautiful creation.

Face pale, she could only stare at Dr. Fox, who hardly even noticed her tiny feet had been responsible. The latter just grinned at the now distressed moose farmer.

“I’m in love with him!” the scientist cried.

As she dashed off, the farmer fell to her knees and screamed at the sky demanding why it had to happen to the tomatoes and not her.

Bim-bom gazed at a store that was selling delicious sandwiches, practically drooling at the sight. Just as she was about to make the choice of having all the choices, she nearly screamed as Dr. Fox slammed her face against the glass from the inside.

“I’m in love with him!” the vixen exclaimed happily, eyes sparkling as much as they did back at the lab.

“Oh, honey, that’s great!” the green garbage bag (or possibly a dumpling) congratulated. (6) “You go after your love! I should know! Because, uh...”

Her beady eyes quickly shifted left and right before they stopped in a certain direction.

“There’s the guy I’m in love with too!” Bim-bom exclaimed, pointing toward the first person she spotted.

Across the street was Toaster, who stopped the moment he noticed Bim-bom was gesturing his way. Toast immediately popped up from his brother’s head, wondering what was going on. (7)

“Wait, what?” the slice of tan bread questioned aloud.

“Uh, which one?” Dr. Fox asked in confusion.

Bim-bom’s mind wracked nervously. “Um, uh...both of them!” she exclaimed.

Toast and Toaster just stared at her.

“Wait, what is she talking abo-AAAAAHHHH!”

The Toast Bros quickly high-tailed it in the other direction as Bim-bom began to chase them.

“Don’t be embarrassed!” the desperate-for-love woman cried. “I love you both equally! We can make this work!” ~

In their apartment, Brock and Master Frown sat on the couch, watching TV. Suddenly from beneath the cushions popped out Dr. Fox, startling Master Frown, not so much Brock who merely smiled in greeting.

“I’m in love with him!” Dr. Fox exclaimed, not caring that she was admitting this to the person that strove to cause misery throughout the kingdom.

“Gross!” Master Frown scoffed in disgust.

“Oh, dude!” Brock exclaimed with genuine happiness for his friend. “Congratulations! Who’s the lucky dude?”

“Hawkodile!” the genius vixen announced, her sparkle matter increasing and littering the apartment much to Master Frown’s annoyance.

“Sweet!” the laid-back gray figure said.

“Love is a suckers’ bet for suckers!” Master Frown spat. “It ain’t gonna work!”

“Dude, not cool!” Brock scolded him.

But Dr. Fox didn’t even hear the maker of misery, her thoughts for the guy she was in love with screamed louder. _______

Returning to the castle, Dr. Fox was still as energetic as she had been throughout the kingdom. The moment she bursted through the doors, they slammed right into Richard who had been carrying dishes. Every single plate hit the floor, making more work for the floating brick. He merely sighed, adding the task of ordering new dishes on his list.

“Hello, Dr. Fox,” he spoke in his usual monotone. “You seem to be in some kind of mood, according to what the citizens have been reporting out of fear and concern for their lives.”

“Oh, it’s more than just a mood!” the vixen exclaimed as she gave a little twirl.

Unikitty and Puppycorn approached them, having heard the noise from the other room.

“What’s going on?” the dog prince asked curiously.

“Yeah, you seem even happier than you usually are, Dr. Fox,” the ruler of the Unikingdom noted. “Nearly as happy as me, and I’m always super happy!”

“Guys!” Dr. Fox expressed excitedly. “I’m in love with Hawkodile!”

Both Unikitty and Puppycorn gasped in amazement, sparkle matter sprinkling from their heads like confetti. They gazed at the kingdom’s scientist, overcome with as much surprise and joy as she had been expressing the entire time. Richard did not share in the elation like he usually did with anything in general. However, his usually sullen expression altered a bit, his brows knitting in concern.

“That’s great!” Unikitty squealed, engulfing Dr. Fox in a hug.

“When are you gonna tell him?” Puppycorn asked, bouncing excitedly.

“Right now!” the genius vixen declared.

“Dr. Fox, I don’t think that would be such a great idea right now,” the brick tried to reason gently.

“Oh, nonsense!” the scientist brushed off. “When have any of my ideas ever been not great?”

Richard gave her his usual taciturn expression, not bothering to answer that.

As she marched to find the man responsible for these lovey-dovey feelings, the royal siblings followed in pursuit, giggling and laughing along with their fox friend. Richard strayed behind, the look of uncertainty never leaving his face. ______

As they headed toward Hawkodile’s dojo, Dr. Fox chattered about all the things she and the bodyguard would do once she confessed her feelings and they became a couple.

“...and after we go to dinner and see a movie, I’ll build us a rocket that’ll send us over the moon!” she added. “It’s scientifically possible!”

“How romantic!” Unikitty said in awe, heart-shaped sparkle matter popping from her head matching the same as the one coming from her eyes.

“Dr. Fox, I really think this isn’t the best time right now,” Richard, once again, tried to reason with her.

“Of course it’s the best time!” Unikitty argued with him. “How could it not be the best time? Our friend Dr. Fox is in love with our friend Hawkodile! What’s the problem with that?”

Before Richard could respond, she pressed against him as she swooned at the thought of the event that was yet to unfold.

“Because there is no problem!” she said with a dreamy sigh. “The two were meant for each other, and most definitely nothing could stand in their way of love!”

Richard sighed. “Look, Dr. Fox, you have to understand-”

But the scientist ignored him once again. Her orange cheeks blushed like the tomatoes she stepped on earlier. Nearing the flaps of the tent-like dojo where their bodyguard friend spent most of his time, she bit her lip to contain another squeal. The others rallied behind her, Richard still looking worried.

“Go for it, Dr. Fox!” Unikitty encouraged.

“Yeah, go for it!” Puppycorn rooted.

“I really, really think this is not a good time right now...” Richard tried to convince to no avail.

Unable to contain herself any longer, Dr. Fox bursted into the dojo, her green eyes bright as the shades of the wonderful guy she was about to confess her feelings for.

“Hawkodile, I have something to tell you!” she said with euphoria.

However, the smile that once shined throughout the kingdom dropped instantly. The party behind her, who had been chanting her name beforehand, stood behind the vixen and gasped. Only Richard remained unfazed, albeit slightly guilty.

Hawkodile, having not heard his friends enter the dojo, was hunched over, arms wrapped around something that seem to clung to his ever-rippling biceps. His lips were doing quite the workout, followed by gruff moaning. Such a sound only got more heavy as he gave all his time and energy to this one moment in particular.

It wasn’t just him moaning. An equally expressive and feminine tone voiced pleasure as well, another pair of lips copying his workout.

Dr. Fox just stood there in disbelief, questioning everything in the universe right now. Behind her Unikitty and Puppycorn were unsure of what to do except just watch. Richard merely gave a defeated sigh.

Hawkodile’s wings flapped upon sensing a new presence in his dojo. He quickly adjusted his head, lips still occupied. His eyes/shades widened before quickly pulling away from whom he was having a wonderful session with.

“Oh, uh, hey!” the hybrid bodyguard greeted awkwardly, a protective arm around the person who had enjoyed what Dr. Fox had hoped would have been her moment.

She was a fair-skinned woman with wavy blonde hair, eyes a brighter green than even Dr. Fox’s. She was adorned in a pink princess-style dress complete with a matching fuchsia cape.

“Uh...” Hawkodile began shyly. “You guys remember Susan, right?”

“Hey,” the blonde woman greeted with a wave.

Before Dr. Fox could even utter a word, it was Unikitty who spoke.

“Well, of course we know Susan!” the princess exclaimed rather excitedly. “Who we thought was Queen Whatevra Wa’Nabi but actually isn’t! Who’s really nice and sweet and cute and helped us bring the Systar System and Apocalypseburg together after Armamageddon and make what is now the totally cool and totally cute place that is now Syspocalypsestar!That Susan!” (8)

Said woman gave a bashful smile as she leaned into Hawkodile, who blushed and gave a relieved chuckle. As Unikitty gushed over her, with her brother looking equally excited, no one noticed the broken expression on Dr. Fox’s face.

Except for Richard.

“Told you it wasn’t the best time,” he said, any form of smugnesshidden under his usual sullen personality. _______

NOTE: Those numbers in parenthesis you’ve seen throughout the story are citation-like thingies. Down below are explanations to those who might wonder about certain things and characters mentioned, just in case some people haven’t seen all the episodes or know any characters besides the main cast. :)

(1)From episode “Lab Cat”

(2)From episode “The Zone”

(3)From episode “Brawl Bot”

(4)From episode “Crushing Defeat”; FeeBee made a good appearance in that

(5)Craig the farmer is best recognized from the episode “Kaiju Kitty” (and yes, Craig’s a female)

(6)Bim-bom’s personality and given description is best shown in the episode “Unikitty News”

(7)Toaster and Toast can best be seen in the episode “Little Prince Puppycorn”

(8)Susan was inThe Lego Movie 2: The Second Part

#unikitty #hawkodile #hawkofox #dr fox #richard #puppycorn #master frown #brock #unikingdom #frown town #cartoon network #the lego movie #the lego movie 2 #tlm2 spoilers #cn

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 6 years

Text

Blame It On Your Beats (6)

Bucky x Reader Series

Chapter Content: Fluff, singing.

Summary: A brush with the underworld leads you on a run, away from what was supposedly your normal life, with Bucky Barnes. You two do not seem to be in sync as Bucky tries to keep you alive, trying your best not to kill each other. Or that’s what you think you are doing.

Series: contains smut, adult content in there somewhere in the future chapters so please look at the chapter content and warnings before you proceed.

Chapter Warnings: None.

A/N: This series is written for @littledarlinhavefaithinme ‘s MK Writing Challenge. Thank you so much for hosting. I am having a lot of fun with the prompts. But I am clearly behind schedule. Eep! Thanks for being so patient!

Tags for this fic are open

MASTERLIST

“That's it?”

You looked at Bucky, whose expression did a one-eighty, flashing his features from a smug grin to a blank expression at your very casual response to the statement he just made.

His biceps were waiting to be ripped out of his black shirt as they sat crossed very his chest taking in all the tension you were building up by not giving him the reactions he wanted.

He was about to speak something when you giggled and broke his train of thought.

“Oh, oh, so you thought making me sleep on the couch would...what, bruise my ego or something? Darling, I've slept on worse things!”

“Really?” His brows came together in the twist of genuine curiosity as you jumped back on the bed and rested on your shoulder.

“Yeah! Mostly bad relationships though. Actually, any relationship.”

You scrunched your nose and ran your finger through your hair before getting up and picking a sundress Louise had hand selected for you. “Ugh, I'm getting out of these clothes. They smell,” you declared to yourself before picking up a towel from the handy stand right outside the no-door bathroom.

Bucky took a whiff of his clothing, never too discreetly. “No, they don’t,” he stated, plopping down where you had been a few seconds ago.

“Yes, they do,” asserted as you tilted your heads towards him, “they reek of lies and near death experiences...with an ‘s’.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and huffed. “Let it go,” he nearly moaned into the air, tired of being reminded of the same thing repeatedly.

“I will, eventually,” you cooed, before drawing the curtain over the space that was looking straight inside the orange-walled bathroom. “No peaky-peaky, Sergeant.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, doll,” he chided, taking his arms up and behind his head, his legs crossed and swinging lightly. He finally relaxed his muscles, easing the tension bit by bit through every part of his body, letting them loose to breathe in the surroundings for the first time. The sea breeze coming in from the balcony doors you’d left open was welcoming on his skin, letting the air filled with the smell of the salty sea, grass, wine and smoke from burning charcoals play with his hair.

The sound of water spattering over the wooden tiles inside the bathroom grazed by his ears, making the swinging of his legs stop abruptly on their own.

A hum filled the atmosphere next.

Let’s fall in love for the night and forget in the morning…

It was more of a honey whisper, a slow, stretched tone from what Bucky could hear as your words bounced across the bathroom walls and leapt over the sound of water.

Play me a song that you like and I bet I’d know every line…

Bucky’s chest felt an unknown warmth easing inside it.

I’m the boy that your boy hopes that you would avoid…

He never realised the smile that slowly crept on his lips as he heard your voice take a high note.

Don’t waste your eyes on jealous guys, fuck that noise…

A new scent filled the air around him; a hint of passion fruit and a dense whiff of strawberries. He waited and waited, turning his head in the direction of the bathroom, eventually raising it up when you didn’t make a sound for an elongated moment.

“Woah! This smells delicious,” you exclaimed, making Bucky realise his heart was beating a bit faster than it normally did for some unknown reason, his veins in the neck pulsating.

I know better than to ever call you mine.

He laid his head back down and closed his eyes, letting your voice engulf his tired existence, allowing him to float in a world free of bad guys and weapons, evil masterminds and racoons, technology and things that began with ‘smart’, drifting on a boat of a beautiful siesta where he saw you. Your glistening figure floating inside the clear blue sea while he swam towards you. Your Y/H/C hair spreading like a coloured halo unfurling itself around your head as you spoke his name, his arms steadying yours over his, his eyes taking in the sombre expression on your face.

You called him out again. And again.

“Sergeant?”

But he couldn’t move, trying to bring his fingers forward to touch your cheeks in some partial reassurance. Just when he could almost touch you, an uninvited touch broke him out of his nap.

WIthin a flash, Bucky grabbed your hand that had tapped him on his shoulder to wake him up pushing you onto the bed by his metal.

“Hahh!” you nearly squealed, “I was just trying to wake you up. Ow!”

The moment a wince left your mouth, Bucky let go of your hand and moved a few inches away from you, afraid of hurting you unintentionally.

“Please go take a shower,” you pleaded the man as you supported yourself on the bed on your elbows, your wet hair glistening and marring your skin, while your legs half dangled down the bed, catching the sun reflecting from the glass on the doors, stirring something inside Bucky.

“Why-” he pushed the feeling back where it came from- “so you could take the bed?”

“Seriously, Sarge, how old are you?” you squinted your eyes at him. “Of course, I’m taking the bed.”

“You know I can pick you up and throw you over the couch without much effort,” he elaborated, his hands resting on his hips as he stood in front of you, ready to do what he stated at any given moment.

“Make me, Barnes,” you announced, riling up some really rowdy tiny beasts inside you both, and plopped your head back into the bed. Bucky could clearly watch the victory smirk on your face, his eyes travelling down your neck, chest and stomach. “You asked for it,” he threw the words at you as he bent over your figure- his one leg coming over the bed onto your side- to let his hands wrap themselves around your waist but was stopped by the flinch he felt as your fingers poked a very specific point on his torso.

“Oh, are you ticklish?”

Your eyes clicked with the most innocent look at him as you tried to keep the outburst of your laugh within your lips by biting down on them while he let out a grunt of surprise.

You teased the spot again, making him jump and slap your hand away before shooting daggers at you.

“Don’t,” he growled, making you almost throw your restrains to the wind.

“Why not?” you asked with sheer curiosity as your hands went up again while you snickered with pure joy.

What’s he going to do? Throw me back into the water?

This time you felt a jolt go through your body when his fingers teased you right above your waist, forcing a tiny scream out of you.

“I told you, don’t,” his husky voice sang as his he towered over your alert figure almost curled up into a ball under him.

“No, James, do-”

Your words turned to squeals in the air as he tickled your sensitive spots again, his eyes lighting up with pure playfulness on seeing you squirm and giggle under him.

“This is so much worse than the water. Just take me to the water and I’ll jump in myself! Please! Stop!” you shrieked as your figure writhed under him while he tried his best to stop you from doing the same to him but was failing time and again.

The giggles and curses filling the room were broken by the familiar ring of Bucky’s satellite phone, making you and him pause midway in breathless states, your hands entwined in his as his glittering oceans stared down at you through the forest of autumnal mess that was his hair- almost tickling your cheeks as it swung about above you.

Suddenly both of you were overtly conscious of each other’s presence- the flushed faces being the biggest evidence as Bucky got up in a daze to pick up the phone while you tried to compose your heart running a marathon of its own, pushing your mess of a dress- a floral navy blue one- down your thighs and knees.

“Is Y/N okay?” was the first thing Stark spoke as soon as Bucky connected the call, taking both you and Bucky by confused surprise.

“I’m fine, Mr Stark,” you responded, tucking your hair back and getting up to walk over to Bucky’s side. Both of you could feel the warmth emanating out of the other’s body, speaking nothing but being aware of the measured distance. “Is everything alright?”

“That’s what I’m asking you,” Stark articulated, “your heart rate was through the roof just now.”

You could’ve sworn you felt your body take a dip in a virtual pool of ice, bringing all the blood gushing out to every little vein as you turned towards Bucky, who had more or less felt the same but instead of freezing where he stood, he shifted his weight on his legs, his pink lips parting in some quick thought.

“Oh, that!” you voiced into the phone, trying to buy yourself time to come up with a decent explanation before blurting, “the...uh...a bee stung me I think.”

Bucky’s brows came together, looking at you with such a bland expression, suddenly questioning your motor skills, making you shrug.

“I thought it was poisonous so I kind of had a jumpscare,” you stretched the corner of your lips at the garbage you were spewing just to hide the fact that you and the assassin you were pretending to be married to just had a tickle fight.

And you thought he was a drag, your voice teased you, lighting up the spots Bucky’s hands had so effortlessly tortured.

“Anyways,” you broke your train of thought, “did you find how the bad guys were able to break through the facility’s security?”

Bucky’s shoulders eased themselves, glad to have the topic diverted as he kept having reruns of your touch over his stomach while your new fragrance filled up his lungs, striking a tune with all the right nerves- wrong to his brain.

“Yeah,” Stark snapped back to the present, bringing you and Bucky with him, “they used a reflective bridge to block the encryption flow, feeding Friday her own information, giving them a two minutes window to bypass through the levels before she was able to recognise the breach.”

Tony went on about the logic behind it, spewing all the technical ingredients for the recipe, driving Bucky away from his ramblings to your face. He had to do a double take of your features to realise something had changed.

Your one arm gripped the other, fingers digging into your flesh, your expression growing sombre, your eyes stuck to the phone’s screen. Your lips were parted in a thought that did not seem anywhere near a positive one.

“...I am pissed. Impressed but pissed. I really want to know who came up with the bridge.”

Bucky didn’t have to know much about the technicality of the situation to realise what was going on.

“I did,” he heard your quivering voice speak.

The other side went silent except for Pepper’s whispered curse.

“I didn’t-” you muttered as you tried to blink away the tears, your legs shifting your weight between them while your hands went behind your neck, “I didn’t know…”

A long exhale was all that came from the other side.

“I’m so sorry Mr Stark,” you croaked before taking a step away, clenching your stomach and walking out of the room.

__________

“Of course she feels guilty, Tony,” Pepper’s soothing voice came over the speaker now resting on Bucky’s ears, “she had no idea her work was going to be used to steal, let alone to nearly kill her. You know it better than anyone else.”

“I know, but I’m worried,” Tony sighed, “she just can’t seem to catch a break. It’s one incident after another for this one.”

“Tony, you’re doing it again,” Pepper cautioned, “just liked you did with Peter.”

“Well, Peter had May, I had you. Who does she have with her right now?”

“Bucky,” Pepper stated matter-of-factly. Tony scoffed at the statement, making Bucky straighten up where he sat, ready to throw words at Stark but finding nothing much to go on.

“Bucky,” Pepper’s voice echoed, “just keep an eye on her, will you? She’s a bit socially awkward but she’s an amazing girl who just is having a string of bad things following her for some time now.”

“Put on some music for her,” Tony added, “that always seems to rub her the right way. She must have done that already though.”

Bucky’s eyes flickered at the statement. ”No. She did turn on the radio but shut it just a few seconds later. Speaking of socially awkward, Pepper, she has been quite vocal about her hatred towards me for pushing her down into the water against her will. More than once.”

“Okay, and?” Pepper questioned for continuation, taking Bucky by surprise.

“And...that’s it. She’s been going on about it since the moment she woke up.”

Silence.

A light laugh reverberated through the speakers. Pepper’s laugh.

“Good, God, Bucky,” she implored, “what do you do when Sam or Tony force you to do things you do not like?”

Bucky blinked, sitting straight on the couch before bending again. “I...tell them I don’t like it.”

“Uh huh. And why do you bother doing that?”

A gong went off in Bucky’s head a bit later than Pepper anticipated.

“And just so you know,” Pepper added, “that’s the part she wants you to know. So there could be a whole lot more.”

“Yeah,” Tony’s voice chided, “so, remember, songs. And be careful when she sings. She sings when there is something bothering her.”

Now that you caught Bucky’s attention. He cursed his ignorant self for not realising you were as alone on this uncalled mission as him, maybe even more.

“I’ll remember. Thanks, Pepper.”

“My pleasure Bucky.”

Bucky could still hear their voices bickering at the other end.

Why do you call him Bucky?

Because I’m allowed to.

Since when are you two on nicknames basis.

Since we first went out for coffee.

Wha-When did that happen?!

Continued Here

TAGLIST

Permanent

@magiclolipopqueen @choke-me-sweet-pea @smexylemony @hazzastyles2471 @lokis-lady-death @lokixme @l0kisbitch @tarithenurse @hiddlestonstansworld @itheoneofmanyfandomsi @nalokoniloki @fuckidontknow @qualitynerdwasteland @cryinglots @unipanda1006 @literalangels @meganlikesfandoms @kcd15

BIOYB

@klmpun

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky series #marvel #marvel fluff #marvel smut #marvel soft smut #blame it on your beats #maladaptive ninja returns

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