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danses-with-dogmeat · 3 years

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(So sorry for requesting someone from the dlc of nv!) could you write a reaction/headcanon thing where Joshua Graham (fnv), Benny (fnv), and Hancock (fo4) having a crush on Sole/Courier and how they would go about confessing to her? Love your writing btw!

Benny, Joshua Graham, and Hancock having a Crush on F!Six/F!Sole (Headcannons)

Daaaaang, what a lineup you’ve constructed here, Anon! I thank you and applaud you. This was incredible to write! I love all these dudes, and I’m so glad I got to look a lil more into the Ben-man since I really didn’t give him the attention he deserved in my couple play-throughs of NV (holy shit is he a blast to write for), and I’ve never had any interactions with Joshua in-game, but I adore his character, and ugh, my beautiful chaotic good ghoul boi Hancock... ‘nuff said.

If any of y’all want to see anyone else for this prompt, just lmk! ❤

Links to Parts 2, 3, 4, & 5 of the Crushing Companions Headcannons can be found below!

Benny:

He’s as surprised as anyone when he finds out about his new-found love for the woman he very nearly executed. It would take him a long time to realize that his thoughts towards her had changed from tentative respect and… well, fear and uncertainty; to hesitant curiosity, to flirtatious interest to... what in the goddamn? Actual attraction? Love?! For the courier… what in the weird 1920s catch phrase was wrong with him?! Oh well, might as well see where this hotsy-totsy jitney is drivin’ em.

Once he realizes his feelings, the Ben-man would be one frustrated cake eater. The suave, flirty tendencies that he's always had now working against him as Six sees them as just another asset of his personality, when, in reality, he really is trying to flirt with her. Figures...

Benny doesn't aim to offend, but his natural tendencies are very sugar daddy-esque; always gifting Six little things, and paying for her food and drinks wherever they go, giving her money to gamble, and parading her around on his arm, showing her off like the dynamite kitten she is. He never asks for anything in return, but he's hoping his gestures might give Six the hint she needs to realize the sincerity of his feelings for her.

He loves to compliment Six every chance he gets, he's just a smooth talker, okay? And it wouldn't just be on her appearance either (though, those types of compliments would certainly be frequent), he would be sure to comment positively on her personality traits as well. Her strength, her dedication, her resolve, her kindness, her ability to forgive (people for shooting her twice in the head), her passion, her positive outlook on life… you get the idea.

Once he realizes that Six isn’t pickin’ up the clues he’s layin’ out for her, he decides to take it up a notch. Benny plans to tell her outright, to be direct, that's how he likes to operate, after all. So, the chairman takes his lady out for a nice dinner, maybe sees a show, invites her back to his room, and… can't quite seem to get the words out. There they are, sitting on the edge of the bed, she's looking fine as ever, and he's told her that a dozen times throughout the night, he's looking deep into her eyes, the words he longs to say hanging on the edge of his tongue, and yet, he just can't bring himself to say it. This shouldn't be so hard, what did he have to lose? If Six wanted him in the ground, she woulda tried it already, right? They were on good terms, the two of them, and that wasn't about to change cuz he tells her he likes her, right? That'd just make it better, wouldn't it? But… if she didn't return his feelings… why the the hell did that scare him so much?!

Benny would stand up from the bed, leaving a surprised Courier to remain seated uncertainly as he began to pace around the room. He'd try to say something to her on a few occasions, starting a little differently each time, before stopping dead in his tracks in the middle of the room, bringing his hands to his temples as he tries to clear his head enough to tell them the truth. He aims to keep it plain and simple now. Just out with it, Benny boy, no need to complicate. He'd sit back down, the words running away from his mouth again as he reached out for her. As her gaze dropped down to watch his hand clasp hers, she seemed relaxed, and he took that as a good sign. Benny did often hold her hand, or offer her the crook of his elbow when they were strolling around town, so this shouldn't be overstepping anything. But somehow it felt so… intimate. Instead of chasing down the words he wanted to say, forcing them out in the least eloquent way, he'd decide to take another physical step. One minute they were touching hands, now… Benny leaned in, catching her off guard as her eyes snapped back up just in time to see him coming before his lips crashed into hers. At first, she'd be surprised. In her experience, Benny was all gab, all flirting and smooth talking, tender touches that turned into nothing, but now... This didn’t seem so innocent to her anymore. There was too much earnestness in his touch, too much apprehension in his actions leading up to this, too much desperation as his mouth moved insistently against hers. It didn’t make sense. Perhaps he was finally trying to cash in all of the caps and attention he had been pouring into her since they had reunited. What was he thinking? That he can just throw a few cheap trinkets her way, a decent dinner and a little show, and now she owes him sex? Nuh uh. She doesn’t roll that way. Six would push him away gruffly, prepared to berate the conman for his rudeness before noticing the hurt in his expression as her hands pressed against his chest, his dark eyes forming pools of regret beneath upturned brows.

Finally, her pleading look would coax the truth out of him, unwavering in its sincerity as she silently begged him to explain himself, if only so she could do the same about her gruff refusal of him.

"Look baby," he'd say, "I know you don't wanna hear this, but the Ben-man here's got a real shorty doo-op for the dynamite ditty on his duvet." Six would be at a momentary loss for words at his confession, but lucky for him, she's grown pretty fluent in Benny-slang-bullshit-namese and manages to figure out what he's aiming at.

Truth is, Benny doesn't see a reason she'd ever wanna be with him, no matter how he looks, what he wears, what kinda power he's got, where he lives, how many folks he's got working for him, no matter what he can do for her; because he'll still always be the one who hurt her. Who shot her. Who very nearly murdered her. Why she wanted anything at all to do with him, Benny would never know. But when she smiled coyly at him, her eyes shining with a mischief her mouth would later come to echo, he would get the distinct impression that she did in fact, not only want something to do with the chairman, but she wanted a whole lot to do with him.

She would really have to explain it to him, cuz he would have a hard time grasping the fact that she wanted him in her life at all, but as her partner? Her lover? Her main squeeze? He didn't understand, but gee-willies, he didn't mind one bit.

Joshua Graham:

It takes him a long time to realize the depths of his feelings for the courier, and even when he does, he would try to deny them. But how can he walk beside this person, who so selflessly aided him in his time of need, who helped him of her own accord, without anyone to command her to, without faith to guide her, and only out of the simple kindness of her own heart, and not have strong feelings towards her?

Though he initially has difficulty accepting how he has come to feel for her, his actions make it relatively obvious. The way Joshua always insists on being at Six’s side, relentlessly defending her, always listening to what she has to say, seeking her feedback in every situation; the way he opens up to her about his past, presenting to her the many mistakes he has made over his life for her judgment… all of this he does even before he really realizes how he feels. It is when, after she aided him in his endeavor to rid Zion of the White Legs, even though it was hardly her fight; and after he told her of his checkered past, his own side of the story regarding Caesar and the Legion, and she remained by his side, that he knew he was in love with her. When he poured himself out in front of her, and she chose to forgive him, as God once had, it made him feel that divine sense of significance all over again. But this time, it wasn't the harsh burning of his past sins encasing him in their blistering glory, it was a soft and gentle embrace, a kind word that sought to save him from whatever remainder of his sins were left inside him. That sought to show him a love that he wasn't familiar with, one that he thought he would never be able to achieve. How could he be worthy of worldly love after all he's done? He thought he was beyond fortunate to have the Lord on his side, thought God's love was all that he could possibly be entitled to, and only in exchange for his lifelong devotion. Now though, he dared to believe that he could have more… but only if that's what Six wants.

He has a hard time believing she could want that. After all, it wouldn't be easy to love him, he knew this, he certainly had been struggling with it his whole life, so how could he expect it from someone like her? The former legate would be content to simply let his love for her be enough, not expecting anything in return, not needing it. But over time, it would be more and more difficult to continue traveling at her side without being able to express how he truly feels. In the end, he decides that she deserves to know the truth. Then she can make her own decision, but he cannot go a moment longer holding this secret inside him.

He waits for the pair to be somewhere secluded, somewhere in nature, the divine beauty of the landscape giving him the courage and support he needs to be honest and vulnerable. They would sit somewhere peaceful, gazing out over the land below as he asks if he could tell her something important. He could feel her uncertainty at his question, knowing it wasn't often that he simply offered to open up like this, but he pressed on with it once she agreed to hear him out. Joshua's not one to beat around the bush, he would tell her outright that he wanted her to know that his feelings for her had grown to be more than platonic, but he would assure her that he didn't intend for their relationship to change. He just finally needed her to know the truth about the feelings he's been harboring for so long.

To that, she would voice her own concern, curious as to why he thought they shouldn't change their relationship, especially if they felt the same way about one another.

The missionary's stark blue eyes would widen as he turned his attention from the horizon to meet her earnest gaze, noting the utter sincerity shining in the depths of her enchanting eyes. He would curse the bandages upon his face, as they concealed his softened expression. His parted lips forming a veiled smile beneath the linen material as he felt his heart thudding in his chest at her words. She feels the same way? Why? How had he not considered this outcome?

Seeing his struggle in response to her news, Six would need to take the initiative for a moment, reaffirming her words as she leaned in to lightly press her lips against his own, bandages be damned. He expected to feel pain at the pressure against his flame-torn flesh, but her contact was so delicate, so soft, that he hardly noticed the feeling of it. Instead, he relished in the sense that she was willing to press forward, to try, to give an effort to be with him even given the scars that littered both his flesh and his past.

Hancock:

Poor Handcock's behavior would actually be rather contradicting. As his flirty, cocky, and cool exterior would melt away into a nervous ball of insecurities that would rival even that of Travis Miles. Rather than becoming more flirty and forward, he would become more reserved towards Sole, his compliments would be less frequent but much more meaningful, and his physical contact with her would be nearly obsolete, as he would be afraid of revealing his true feelings and unintentionally pushing too hard.

Truth is, Hancock's been with loads of partners, and has been in more than a few relationships, though none had been particularly serious. But now, Sole comes along, and she's just… perfect, she is everything Hancock could ever hope to have and so much more than a ghoul like him had any right to. She shares so many of the same values as he does; she's selfless, and caring, and brave, and he already cares about her to the point of being in love, and they're not even together… that's never happened to him before. With this knowledge that he cares about her so deeply, that he needs her in his life and couldn't possibly live without her, he becomes so damn nervous around her that he's afraid to fuck it up before they even get the chance to be with one another. But… he supposed he could stand for simply bottling up his feelings, resigning himself to just spending time with her as her traveling companion, as her friend, and nothing more. If it meant keeping her in his life, then he could do that. Couldn’t he? He may just have to. Unless...

Though Hancock truly does have issues with his own self esteem, he eventually decides to let himself trust in Sole's judgement. He may not think of himself as being worthy of her, but if she assures him that he is what she wants? He'll believe in her choice, and be absolutely over the moon at her decision to give him a chance.

Even before they're together, the ghoul would do most anything for Sole. He's a fantastic listener, so if she mentions something that she may want, he'll store that away, keeping it in mind as they travel, and actively searching for whatever it might be so he can gift it to her at the right time. And he loves simply talking to her. About anything and everything: their interests, their past, where they think their future will take them, politics, religion, beliefs, history. All. Of. It.

It would be in a moment like this, just before the pair turn in for the night, after some deep conversation between them as they settled in, that Hancock finally does get the courage to confess. Sole will have to be patient with him, as he would do it in some roundabout way, afraid to be too direct in case she rejects him outright. He would begin by talking about how far they've come, and what it means to him to have her in his life, how lucky he feels to be able to travel the Commonwealth with the likes of her. As her confused expression set in, Hancock would nervously try to speed up the confession, often repeating a lot of what he just said in an attempt to let her know how much he cares for her. When that failed to get the point across, he would begin to compliment her relentlessly, saying all that he sees her as, how incredible she is, how gorgeous, and lovely, and kind-hearted, and strong; as she looks on with bewilderment, wondering to herself where he was going with all this as a flustered smile lights up her blushing, pink face. Man, he sure knows how to make a woman feel special... but he says this kind of stuff with lots of people... doesn’t he?

When Sole finally cuts him off again, asking gently if he has an ending in mind, he would sigh deeply. Having failed at his attempt at being somewhat subtle, Hancock would finally find the courage to admit to her what he was trying to say. What he's been trying to say for ages now. It would be a simple confession, his words inviting any form or response without demanding any kind of direct reciprocation. He would simply state that he's in love with her, and that he felt like she had a right to know it. He'd harness the courage to look her in the eyes as he told her the truth about his feelings; but afterwards, he couldn't hold her gaze, instead he would opt for the security of peering down at his own lap as he sat beside her, picking nervously at his nails without realizing it.

He hardly expected any kind of response. If he was lucky, she would nod, thank him for telling her, and say goodnight, turning her back to the sofa he had agreed to sleep on, and they would resume their travels in the morning without really acknowledging what he had said the night before. But hey, at least he was able to get it all off his chest. If he wasn't lucky… well, she might send him away now, for good. And he wasn't sure if he could cope with that shit.

He never could have expected her true reaction though, as she brought a hand up to smooth over his roughened cheek, drawing his attention back up to her gaze, before she brought her head forwards slowly, closing her eyes as Hancock's widened at her action. The ghoul always adored Sole's lips, but he never could have fathomed how soft they would be against his own. The feeling of her mouth on his was intoxicating, and he couldn't help but deepen the kiss, his mind demanding to know why it took him so damn long to tell her how he felt if this was going to be the outcome.

Part 2 (Arcade, Butch, Piper, Preston, and Veronica)

Part 3 (Benny, Butch, & Danse with M!Six/M!Lone/M!Sole)

Part 4 (Danse, Deacon, & X6-88)

Part 5 (Gage, MacCready, & Maxson)

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btscarnivalnet · 2 years

Text

Headliner Of The Month

Hello, Carnival Goers and Performers alike, please give a round of applause for our Headliner of the Month:

Our Wonderful Performer: Sheena @shina913

You are our Headliner of the Month!

During this month, we want to showcase your incredible talent and skill and share it with the Carnival! For this month, we want you to pick three fics of yours that you’d like us to showcase, and we also wanted to ask you some questions so we can understand how you write, why and what you want to get across with your fics.

Questions for you:

Three Fics: Please Provide the Links

Gradation

Scale

Intersect

When did you start writing fics, and why?

I started writing back in late October/early November 2021. I actually wrote fanfic back in high school—decades ago—in a physical notebook! But it was just for my personal enjoyment and I never shared them with anybody…I wasn’t sure if people would look at me weird while reading about imagining how it would feel to make out with Nick Carter (from the Backstreet Boys)?

But fast forward to present time, I started writing because I was going through a rough patch, mentally and emotionally. I was unhappy at my job and parts of my life, in general. Then, I started reading some BTS fan-fics on Tumblr, AO3, and Wattpad around July ‘21 and a couple of them had been imprinted in my mind, so to speak.

I also started to write because around that time, I wasn’t sleeping much due to my mind just constantly racing in the evenings and then generally feeling unmotivated by daylight. I was desperate for an outlet for my emotions. Then one afternoon, I opened up the “Notes” app on my phone and started to write while waiting from my train home from work. I’m not being poetic about it–it’s literally just how it started LOL

I had no intention of publishing because it started off as more of a form of therapy for me–before I found my therapist. From the Notes app, I eventually downloaded Google docs into my phone and moved my text there at some point–although my original draft for initial scenes on Gradation still lives in the Notes app. I keep it for sentimental reasons and it serves as a reminder of why I started to write and why I keep doing it.

Also, some part of me felt the urge to fill in certain plot holes that I found in other fics–like an ‘unmet need’ of sorts. Those thoughts niggled at me during some nights as well–while I laid in bed reading a 20+ chapter fic at 4AM! So, in an effort to carry out my own agenda of wish fulfillment, I thought, hey–why don’t I write the ending that I want?

What was your first fic?

Gradation

What is your latest fic?

Scions (series)

Why did you choose to write about the fics you have chosen?

Gradation

This story was really more of a form of therapy for me. I mentioned the concept to my sister–who consumes way more fics than I ever have so it felt somewhat validating that she thought it was decent? I showed her snippets of it and she was just happy that I had an outlet for creativity. I told her that I didn’t plan on publishing and that maybe this would just be a long-ass oneshot that I’ll keep for myself.

Eventually, I gathered up the courage to talk about it to one of my first-ever moots on Tumblr, Dee (@deepseavibez)–who is also a great writer, BTW. She very graciously offered to beta it and after doing so, she pushed me to keep writing. She gave me insightful and constructive feedback on my first couple of chapters. At that point, even though she was encouraging, I still didn’t feel confident enough to actually make that jump to format and publish. I think it took me another week or so to decide–also, because I had to look up how to actually publish and format it for the platform LOL I was unfamiliar with Tumblr’s format so I had to ‘learn it’ first–and even now, I’m still trying to learn some tricks LOL!

Scale

I wrote it because…I managed to fall in love with Jin while writing him as a side-character on Gradation–which wasn’t originally planned LOL!!! I also received some comments (while writing Gradation) screaming about him and how they felt bad about the character. So…I tossed the idea around with my sister and Dee and we pretty much agreed that Jin deserved his own happy ending! This was also my first venture into crack-fic writing–which…I eventually admitted to myself that I am really into reading and writing. I seem to always come up with chaotic ideas (that mostly end up getting cut in the end).

This was also the first time that I went with a primarily plot-driven story rather than a character-driven one. I did a lot of research–nothing too deep but just to help tie things together and to make it make sense? I also chose this as one of my favorites because of the effort that I put into this. I get that for fics, it doesn’t need to be that deep but…I just care a lot and that’s just how I am, so I figured that this is how I want to write because this is what I enjoy reading and I hope others do, too.

Intersect

Do I need a good reason to write about Kim Namjoon? Nope, not really LMAO! No, but seriously…I wrote it because I wanted to hit most of the typical fan-fic tropes to build my masterlist. I’ve done a best-friends-to-lovers scenario, strangers-to-lovers…so I wanted to get into enemies-to-lovers. Initially, I wasn’t even sure that I wanted to use Namjoon for this. For the first couple of drafts, he was ‘MemberX’ on the doc LOL! Then, randomly, I just replaced the placeholder with ‘Namjoon’ and the story just flowed from there.

I also had a ton of fun writing this and looking back on my original posting dates, I was really in my element here. I posted almost every week–sometimes even twice a week! My mind was constantly buzzing.

What was the most memorable line for you in each of the fics?

Arghhh–I know this is terrible but I have a ton of favorites! Here’s a list:

Gradation

YN to JK: “The only thing that would ruin this friendship would be an act of God.”

Part 3. Which hits way differently after she says it to him in a completely different tone and context in Part 8. Oof.

YN to JK and vice versa: “Ditto.”

I borrowed this expression from the movie “Ghost” and it felt awkward at first? But as the story went on, I just settled comfortably into it and made it ‘my own’ in a way.

No further words were exchanged. They weren’t necessary.

Part 4. This was the last night that YN and JK spent together before leaving Hawaii. I love conveying tension and emotion with subtle actions.

Jin to YN: “Like I said…it’s all background noise to me.”

Part 6. Writing this scene absolutely cemented my love for Jin.

Everybody in the world needs a Park Jimin in their life.

Part 9. Because they do!!!

Scale

He takes a whiff of the warm coffee and has faint visions of flickering neon lights while he watches the fog lift off the bay’s surface.

Part 2. This visual came to me in a dream–fog and flickering neon lights. I thought it fit with Jin’s current thoughts and how he just couldn’t get YN out of his mind.

Miya to YN: “Oh, honey…I know girls like you. I’ve known girls like you all my life. You are not one in a million. And I’ll tell you right now–there is nothing special about you except what’s between your legs.”

Part 6. I love this because it’s such a classic, soap-opera scene for me–where an antagonist ‘circles’ the protagonist like a shark. Ugh! I live for that drama!

Taehyung to Eunhae: “It’s just uh–I’m pretty familiar with the styling and brush strokes,” he says with a slight emphasis on the word ‘strokes.

Part 8. This sounds corny but I had a lot of fun writing in Tae as this smooth, ‘undercover’ guy who is trying to seduce a mark.

Intersect

There are soooo many because Intersect has taken over ‘Gradation’ as my favorite fic that I’ve written!

Namjoon to YN: “See? That right there–who needs mutual respect and professionalism when I can have blind hatred.”

Part 5.5. This was inspired by ‘10 Things I Hate About You’ and I thought it was just perfect for this scene.

Namjoon: “I can’t help it when you start to debate with me–it’s just…really hot when you start hitting me with facts.”

YN: “Well, when you come at me with large-scale data, how can I not be turned on?”

Namjoon: “So you’re saying you only want me because of my data?”

Part 7. I love puns and double entendres and if there is an opportunity to introduce it into any scene, I will add it!

Namjoon to YN: “You want to watch me lose it?”

Part 8. I haven’t come across many fics where the female OC takes pleasure in watching their male partner come apart at the seams–it’s usually the other way around. This scene was inspired by this 99-cent online book that I read a while ago–I forgot what it was called but that particular scene stuck with me and I thought I’d write that in here.

YN to Namjoon: “I thought you went home?”

Namjoon to YN: “I thought I did.”

Part 9. This was soft…and I wanted to essentially seal the deal on Namjoon and YN’s feelings towards each other.

Jungkook to Namjoon: “You were basically the same…like lines running parallel against one another. All you needed was to…tilt a little bit to make contact.”

And basically the entire intro to Part 10. One of my absolute favorites!

What was your writing process like for each fic?

In general, I am usually prompted by a movie I have recently seen or a TV show. I would pick it apart in my head and find out how I could make it work for me. That’s how it usually starts.

When I get a prompt or idea for a fic (especially for a series), I will either write it down in a Google doc or text my sister about it. Once we have a nice exchange going (meaning she’s into the idea, builds on it), that’s usually a good sign for me to start drafting or writing down bullet points, at the very least.

I try to pre-plan the story beforehand–outlining, if you will–mostly key scenes and plot points that I want to hit as the story progresses. However, I don’t outline all the time. Sometimes, I’ll just have a beginning and a ‘source of conflict’ planned out and I’ll write that down without an ending in mind yet. Eventually, once I figure out an ending, it’s just a matter of filling in the gaps and ‘landing the plane,’ is what my sister and I always say.

Often, I will get random ideas for scenes or conversations that aren’t in chronological order. I keep ‘scratch’ documents for each of my fics, specifically for prompts and I’ll just type out a conversation or add bullet points on what I think would be happening in that scene. When I’m writing a chapter, I’ll revisit that scratch document and I’ll find a line or bullet point and add it to my chapter draft and build on it. Sometimes I’m able to make it work, sometimes, it’s like a square peg. In one of my fics, I ended up scrapping a scene of about 1K+ words from a chapter. I thought it was a solid scene but when I started to read the whole thing, it just felt like it didn’t belong.

Having said that, I very rarely delete anything I cut. I always save those because they might come in handy or could fit another story. There have been a couple of paragraphs that I dropped from past fics that I ended up repurposing for another story. I just did some minor edits to make it fit.

For Gradation, I knew from the jump that I wanted to bookend the story with a wedding and it was a matter of mapping out the couple’s journey on how to get there. I knew that I wanted YN’s ex to come back, I knew that I wanted this falling out to happen. In fact, I drafted their fallout scene way before I mapped out all of the leadup to that. I just needed to connect all of the other events to that scene–with a tiny bit of a rewrite because I inadvertently changed some things in the chapters before that.

For Scale, that was a bit more challenging because there were so many elements to it. I knew that I wanted some complication between Jin and YN which was caused by their difference in social status. I’m a huge consumer of police procedurals and true crime documentaries. I am intrigued by white collar crimes as well. I mentioned ‘research’ here so, once I got to the point of the story where the plot started to unfold, I did a whole deep-dive into U.S. tax laws, high-value property insurance, and fraud. It got really overwhelming for a bit but I pushed through it. I worked very closely with my sister on this part of the story and I had many other ideas that I tossed at her and vice versa–before ultimately settling into what is currently published.

For the penultimate chapter, I originally didn’t plan it ending that way even though my sister had suggested it. FYI, we grew up watching Filipino soap operas–which always have an abundance of drama and crack in them. She had suggested a kidnapping/ hostage situation, which I tried my very best to shut that idea down because 1) I already did so much prior research on the previous chapters, even struggling through writer’s block just to push everything along, 2) it felt weird embracing the crack element of it, and 3) I didn’t know how I could write it without coming off too corny or dramatic? But…once I got to Part 7, it was clear that things were leading up to that point so I just leaned into it.

For Intersect, the process was slightly easier because I ended up using my own industry as part of the plot point here. I didn’t need to do much research because I’ve worked around public policy for over 10 years. In mapping out the actual narrative, I used the same approach–texting and calling my sister back and forth–exchanging ideas. Also running a few ideas past my friend, Dee since she’s also a Namjoon simp.

A few scenes in this fic, as I’ve noted in some chapters, were prompted by movies and some episodes of TV shows. Sometimes, I’ll rewatch those movies or shows to get into the emotion and see how the action unfolds, then I tailor those scenes to fit the current environment of my characters and the story.

Interestingly, about halfway through writing Intersect, I went to go see the boys live in Vegas on their final night. It was completely magical and when we got back to the hotel that evening, I wrote a little bit while Namjoon’s face was still fresh in my mind LOL

When I do chapter updates, I’ll have rough ideas of scenes that I want to happen and write them out as “headers” and build on those. Sometimes, I’ll send snippets to my sister for feedback and she’ll send notes. Once I think that I have a good, flowing chapter, I’ll send the full version to her and my friend, Dee, for beta reading. They make their suggestions and I implement notes or justify/reject them if I disagree. More often than not, I accept their suggestions because having a fresh pair of eyes always helps me.

When I go into a writing sprint, I’ll get tunnel vision and just plow right through the update. And then, I get the marked up version back from Dee and my sister and I think–huh–this suggestion makes total sense! How did I miss that?

So…to all beta readers–kudos to you! I’m aware that not all fic writers get their work beta-read–and that’s your prerogative, of course. For me, personally, I find beta-reading helpful because I am able to address possible questions or fill certain plot holes in my stories. After talking to another random reader, they’ve said that whatever plot points or background story I put in, they would just ‘accept it’ without much hesitation as long as it provides the slightest context into a character and/or rationalizes their actions. And that’s good, I guess but as a reader and consumer of many other forms of fictional stories, I always ask “why” and “how?” The whys and hows make the story interesting for me so when I write, I apply that same approach.

What do you hope readers will take away from the fics?

I’m a huge sap and tend to get very dramatic when I write. However, I’d like to think that my writing style is rooted in relatable and semi-realistic situations–just slightly a bit more dramatized. I want readers to know that I put a lot of thought into my characters, especially for multi-chapter stories–what their motivations are; why they do what they do; what their next action would be; what they would say.

I love creating strong, female characters and portraying them as so–especially when they’re in a position of power. I don’t want to sketch out a female CEO as just a counterpart of a man. Women offer unique perspectives and have experiences with and approaches to different situations so I want to make sure that I am able to give justice to that.

I’m a little older than most fic writers I’ve interacted with on Tumblr so I try to use my own personal experiences and inject them into my characters and stories. In contrast to being a little older, I also love reading content written by other writers whom I know are younger (based on their bios). I learn a lot from their different experiences and perspectives while they tell their stories. I think that just because you’re older, doesn’t necessarily mean that you know better. We all bring something different to the table and that’s the best thing about fan-fiction. There’s something different for everyone and you’ll end up finding something that will cater to your own ‘wish-fulfillment bank.’

I’m just another writer who wants to offer a different perspective and approach to typical, every day fanfic/AU stories and conflicts. And although the endings of most of my stories are generally predictable, I want to make the journey interesting. I feel like that’s what keeps a reader engaged. For a while, I thought that this approach was boring and that I should just go with whatever I think that majority of readers would like.

Having said that, I have and need to keep reminding myself that I started writing because it soothed my soul and I write for me so I try to stick with that. It’s what keeps me centered. I’ve said at some point that if I put something out there just for the sake of posting, that would be the death of my blog. If I’m happy with the content and proud of it, I know that those feelings will come off the page (or screen, in this case) for a reader.

Why do you keep writing? What drives you?

I’m mostly introverted so writing is a form of self-expression for me when the act of speaking fails me–which, 9 times out of 10, it does. I also love dreaming up certain what-if scenarios and just the whole premise of wish fulfillment (or shattered hearts) drives me.

Any writing goals you’ve recently hit? Any goals that you are planning to hit?

It’s not so much a goal that I’ve hit but an achievement but since I started writing late last year, I have written (and closed out) four multi-chapter series in a span of 9 months! That’s over 346,000 words that I’ve written and that’s not even including my one-shots and ongoing series…so I’m pretty proud of that!

It’s a modest goal but I’d like to develop more fics with more of the usual fan-fic tropes like: exes to lovers, arranged marriage, maybe even some fantasy!AUs. I’m always looking for a good prompt!

#headliner of the month #performer: shina913

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liyuesbian · 3 years

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✧ pygmalion!au [ningguang]

notes: btw idk how commissions from museums work i just made the process up LMAO and this one's kinda angsty? i mean, it is the pygmalion greek myth so iykyk. also, i describe this figurine of ningguang here but w/o the colour... i've linked it in case any1 needs the reference. (btw, this is not set in ancient greece specifically)

only yesterday had you been commissioned by an art gallery in the capital to create a piece for their up-and-coming collection titled desire, love and identity. yet here you are, slaving away to make the perfect image you had in your head come into fruition. your vision is exquisite once sketched on paper—you can't find any faults in it so you take the risk.

as soon as your chisel meets the marble, a feeling so invigorating dominates your body. no further references are necessary as you place your trust entirely on your hands, coarse from the labour. you find such mindless toil addicting and you work day and night, only stopping for a half-baked meal and the odd collapse into bed.

for months, love streams out of the tips of your fingers and through your sculpting tools to arrive at the stone figure. you sincerely hope the intimate emotion has been reached.

when you finish, you wipe the bead of sweat running down your forehead, rest the other palm on your hip and take slow steps backwards all while maintaining eye contact with the statue. a wave of sweet relief hits you and you fall to the floor, uncontrollably sobbing into tired hands that still grip the hammer and chisel.

it's beautiful.

you stagger, struggling to get up with your bruised knees while clumsily wiping the tears off your stained cheeks. setting the instruments aside, you lift your head to admire your handiwork up close. a woman made of stone sits elegantly atop an oriental chair, crossing her smooth, white legs over each other. her left elbow is propped on the arm of the chair while on the other side, a long smoking pipe is balanced between gloved fingers. around her lies an assortment of objects: a vase containing scrolls, a floor lamp, and a charmingly decorated folding screen.

you see, you had already thought it all out. you'd imagined ningguang's preferences for a life of luxury, her affinity for constructing and sprucing up interiors. she would be a master of the trades and a woman who likes to keep an air of mystery around her. and like how you increasingly project her to be more of a person than she ever will be, there is a creeping concern in the corner of your mind that you will lose your rationality just as quickly.

the sculpture's body is clad in a qipao with a slit that reveals alabaster skin below the waist. the dress—embellished with patterns and neat linings—hugs her figure and shows off a lean build. the extensive train and sleeves of the fabric are shaped curvaceously to mirror the flow of a waterfall. and her face. the section you strived so hard to refine. she stares at you with an imperious expression and a hint of a smirk. her gaze, so piercing, makes you avert your eyes in shyness but you find yourself gravitating back to her profile.

you muster up the courage to draw closer to your creation and unconsciously stroke her cheek with your thumb, captivated. if she were an empress, you'd be a common peasant—undeserving of setting your sights on such a goddess. you can feel your soul being sucked into eyes devoid of emotion—of anything, actually. after all, the woman sitting before you is not a person but an inanimate object.

the weeks following the completion of ningguang—which is the name you've picked up the habit of calling her—are spent in said lady's company. every minute of every day, you surround yourself with her presence as if she is your closest friend. you eat with her, tell her your troubles, even going so far as to decorate her with various types of jewellery and bringing her gifts you think she'd like.

"thank you," you whisper. "for always listening to me." in truth, you're always so immersed in your work that you forgot what conversations could feel like. though, you fear your art would never be on par with something so transcendent ever again.

you become curious, wondering what she would be like if the nymph in front of you were not just a figment of your imagination.

you perch yourself on top of ningguang's stone-cold lap and trace the contours of her visage. you inspect each crease on her lips and the minuscule crinkles in her eyes, applauding yourself for the well-crafted details. you don't know what possesses you but you close your eyes and press your lips against hers, hoping that once you open them, a living being would erupt from underneath the marble. but, of course, as soon as the light hits your retinas, ningguang is as unmoving as ever.

realising what you've just done, you drop off of her thighs and laugh anxiously. however, you could've sworn that you had felt warmth in the lips of your beloved muse.

"i've finally gone mad!" you cry aloud.

hell, you say to yourself, is it even possible to fall in love with such an... an artefact? you dismiss your glaringly obvious infatuation.

"nonsense," you mutter under your breath, sensing your heart breaking slightly. how can something so painfully humanlike also not be human at the same time? you must've caused a tremendous atrocity in your past life to have made the gods harbour a grudge against you. of all things, you'd never have guessed that a lifeless piece of art would be the object of your desire.

you can't bear to look at the handcrafted lady any longer and with an anguished face, cover her with a large cotton cloth. the plan was to wait until you could hand the statue over to the curators and try to ignore its existence until then.

for a few days, you act according to the plan, going about your daily routine but eventually, your stoic demeanour crumbles. you lock yourself in your room refusing to eat or believe that your affection would never be returned.

during the hours of sunlight, you weep under your sheets, drowning in self-inflicted sorrow. and at night, you do the same, lamenting over the loss of what could've been your true love. she would've been so perfect in your eyes, your other half, and the only one who could calm this growing turmoil!

the reality pains you. hence, you do the only thing you can do: you pray. you pray to the gods for a miracle, that the light of your life would stride into your room and pull you from the depths of despair... but she never does.

your last day "cohabitating" with the sculpture has arrived and for the first time in—what felt like—an eternity, you open the doors to your workshop. taking a deep breath, you unveil the stationary maiden.

it's still as beautiful as you remember.

you give it a sad smile, wanting to get its departure over and done with. you manoeuvre about the room to prepare the things for the movers who're due to come in a couple of hours. while you go down your little list of errands to be done, you cough and bat away the smoke—wait, the smoke? frantic, you spin around, eyes darting everywhere in search of its origin until they land on the smoking pipe you so intricately moulded for the commissioned piece.

it's strange, you don't recall colouring the statue. and how on earth is smoke coming out of the pipe? suspicious, you approach the motionless entity and almost stumble when you spot its chest rising.

oh lord! — i really must be descending into madness! you clutch your head, clawing at your hair in hysteria.

"stop, please don't hurt yourself." the sound of a low, worried voice penetrates your ears. you shut your eyes tight.

"no, the gods have cursed me! i mustn't listen to your poisonous words!" you exclaim. your state of agitation is alleviated when the woman caresses your tensed arm.

"what has happened to you? i haven't seen you lately either." the tone is more soft and more tender than you had imagined. you release your grip.

"is it really you, ningguang?" your voice cracks at the end, and the woman you sought after witnesses your features twist into an expression of longing and hope.

"yes, my darling. i dare not go anywhere else."

helplessly, you rush to cup her face to check for heat, for the blood traversing under her skin—anything that would prove that your sweetheart is truly alive and breathing. and when you do get the confirmation, you beam, trying to withhold tears born from elation.

you bend down to kiss ningguang, who is still seated on the chair, once, twice, and three times to rid your scepticism. oh, deities! she's real.

"i love you," you declare.

"i know." you watch as the same creases you'd etched on the corners of her eyes spread into a loving half-moon shape and you kiss her again.

you reach a conclusion: you couldn't give away your lover—let alone a live person—to be displayed as part of a museum exhibition so when the workers arrive, you hide your muse away in another room. you apologise profusely and spin a lie, rambling on about how you had nothing to relinquish for the piece you had prepared had been oh-so-viciously stolen by a mob of trespassers!

the movers share with you their sympathies and ask what the work of art looks like and maybe they could sort something out with the authorities. nodding, you recount—so ardently—the details of your divine maiden. you feel heat rush to your face, chuckling when you realise that you'd run your mouth for too long.

in response to this, the two labourers exchange dubious looks as they peer at the static sculpture standing in the middle of the studio—its appearance unmistakably matching your elaborate description.

#ningguang #ningguang au #ningguang angst #ningguang x reader #ningguang headcanons #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin angst #genshin headcanons #genshin au #pygmalion au #ningguang imagines #genshin imagines

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thesolotomyhan · 4 years

Text

Narcos México: Dating Them Would Include: (1/7)

Alright,,, so I gave in and I just said fuck it. I was feeling bold when I decided to to upload this because I have so much doubt about this😅. This is my first time ever writing. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! I started off my with tontín and if all goes well, I’ll start writing the rest! :)

BTW: I’m sorry I couldn’t add a keep reading link, I’m using the mobile app as of right now because I’m in the process of getting a new laptop!

Warnings: NSFW!

Amado:

Let’s start with El Señor De Los Cielos,

Amado is always one to flex, ever since your first date, it was his priority to end the date with you wanting more of him and leaving the impression that no one will treat you as good as he will

And although he did succeed in his goals, he was the one counting down the minutes until your next date, you had him in the nubes, girl

I shit you not, he went to buy you an engagement ring after your first date because he just knows that you’re the one he’s gonna marry and have kids with- I’m sobbing

So it obviously doesn’t take long for you guys to be official

He loves taking you out for dinner

You cannot convince me otherwise that he would not go all out for y’all’s personal dates, like roses everywhere, with mood lighting and a pinche serenata,,, like cmon, you make him SOFT

He would not do this for anyone other than YOU

If you wanted to go on a date or just go somewhere, he’s already dragging you along to one of his planes

Acosta probably roasts Amado so much but he does not care, not when you have him wrapped tightly around your finger

When he’s away on Juarez business, he’s calling you every night, just to hear your voice

Ugggh, you let him rant about the stupid shit everyone did that day because you just know your Amado is tired and needs someone to listen

When he comes back from business, he always brings you something just to see you smile

He gives you the softest kisses! Forehead kisses are a must

Ugggh,, I also see him stargazing with you, like you’re in between his legs with his arms wrapped around you and there’s times where he has Chalino Sanchez going on in the background

When Miguel throws any type of party or Amado just feels like going to the club, he’s taking you with him and always having an arm around you at all times

He HAS to be leading you around the party and introducing you to everyone, godddd, he addresses you to everyone like

“Mira, les presento a mi mujer, la reina de Juárez”

Like, damnnn

I can imagine , like you getting up to get a drink while he talks with the others and he’s pulling you back asking where you’re going with like worried eyes

“Voy agarrar una bebida”

“No, mi reina, yo te lo agarro, siéntate”

Everyone of the guys teasing the shit out of him but he’s just all like, “ustedes no saben que es el verdadero amor, hijos de la chingada”

But they’re not gonna lie, they all respect you and enjoy your presence

Even though he doesn’t like you knowing or being involved in depth about his business, he doesn’t mind you sitting with him during any kind of meeting talk inside of the clubs

Your just curled up into his chest with your drink, minding your own business

That,, or you’ll wander off but not before Amado orders a couple of his men to keep an eye on you

I’m swooning, can you imagine bringing him food to the construction site because you just know he hasn’t eaten all day

The fucking smile he has when he sees you because he literally forgets all the pendejadas and stress he has

LORd,, you know when Acosta was talking about retiring and living a normal life with Mimi,, can you imagine like he’s trying to convince Amado to do the same with you,,

I can’t,, and Amado just looking at where your talking with Mimi or something and just the fucking heart eyes he has because it does sound like a good idea

But, we all know, you can’t just retire from this business :((((((

Look, this man would triple your security after he learns what happened to Güeritos family because of the deal he made with Pacho and what if Miguel were to find out sooner

He’s gonna take his precautions to protect his queen alright, pero discretamente, he doesn’t want to alarm everyone especially Felix

Ooooh myyyy, why do I see him building you a home secretly, like he says he’s going to do handle some shit in Juarez on his day off but in reality he’s building a home for you two🥺🥺

The day he surprises it with you, he’s all like

“Es nuestra casa, mi reina, te gusta?”

Your just so speechless because you cannot believe this man would go all out for you.

“Mira, allá podemos construir un parquecito o cancha de fútbol para los chamacos o algo, no se, y acá te hice un jardín, ven”

GOD, he’s like a happy puppy showing you all the things he built and is still planning, and you just start crying because your so happy that he wants to build a family with you,, ok I’ll stop, my heart hurts, I’m so soft for Amado

Can you imagine the day you finally get preganant tho,,, just the fucking smile and adoration he has when he sees you doing literally anything

His heart is about to burst when he sees the curve of your belly grow because he did that, your carrying his child

Just the orgullo he has for you both and don’t get me started on how he overprotective he gets because he has a kid on the way-

Overall, your relationship is so cute and strong and just full of pure fucking love

NSFW:

Alright, here we go you nastys

This man LOVES blowjobs especially when he’s had a rough day, so naturally you welcome him home with a surprise

You’re wearing one of his favorite lingeries because he’s always buying you them

And, you know, once he walks in through the door, you’re already waiting for him

“Y Ahora, chula?”

“Te quiero ayudar a relajar, mi amor”

as you drag him to sit down by his belt

God,, I can just picture him on the couch with his head thrown back and one of his hands tangled into your hair as he desperately thrusts into your mouth

“Puta Madre”

As he looks down at you just full blown mesmerized

When he gets frustrated over the dumb things he has to put up with, like the time Miguel accepted to transport 70 tons of coke 👀,,,, you best believe he’s gonna take it out on you in the bedroom

You know like giving you rough and needy kisses as he picks you up and heads towards your bedroom

You’re working on unbuttoning his shirt as he’s basically tearing off whatever your wearing

I can see him wanting to caress your body and take his time but god damn his lust is getting the better of him and your only encouraging him more when you grind your hips on his OOOF

One of his favorite positions is having your legs spread as far as they can and wrapping one of his hands around your throat,,, he loves the sight of it

He does not go slow and soft ok, Amado is going in rough and pounding you into next week

When he’s feeling especially rough and dominant, he’s taking you from behind and pulling your own hair

Always scolding you if you try to keep quiet,,, he’ll do those slow but really rough thrusts just so you can whimper something out until he has you screaming

He once made the mistake of inviting Acosta to sleep over one day because of business and it was the first and last time Amado will ever do that

He had you screaming out his name as he fucked you into the bed that night,,

Amado had forgot he had guests over

So the next day when he’s having a drink with Acosta out in the patio in the morning, it’s the first thing Pablo brings up

“ cabrón, iba a llamar a los paramédicos anoche, pensé que estabas matando a tu mujer” he says it so irritated too

Amado is just like,, confused at first and looking weirdly at him because like tf is he talking about??

“ Será un milagro si no la dejas embarazada, tontín”

That’s when it comes together and Amado is trying to pathetically explain

“No cabrón, yo no quiero saber como se la metes” while he’s like laughing at Amados expression

You’re always pulling on his hair whenever he’s going down on you or pounding into you and he loves it because then he knows he’s doing a good job

He also loves it when your scratching down his back and leaving evidence of your night spent together

He’s always down to leave marks on you but in discrete areas, he’s not one to flaunt about your private lives

God, when this man takes you on vacations to places around the world, you best believe that he’s fucking you, either on the plane, at the place y’all are staying or even at the hidden beaches he’ll take you

He wants to make your vacations memorable and tbh, you two are like horny teenagers

THE CHAIN, y’all know the virgin chain he has on,, girl, he’s dicking you down and your holding onto that for dear life as you pull him down for a messy kiss,, yeah, I’m going to hell😅

He definitely has a thing for you when you wear his black shirts, whether it be the morning after or you just pulled it out of the closet and felt like wearing it

He thinks you look so beautiful wearing his clothes,,,,, he’s also had you wear only his shirt when you two have sex at times because, wow what a sight,,,, you, his reina wearing his things- ugh

He also makes sure to leave you satisfied before he has to go fly somewhere,

He has to have a fresh memory of his cock sliding in and out of you as your writhing below/above him

A refresh of what your moans and facial expressions are so he has them freshly engrained into his memory

Okkkk,,, Your just so damn perfect to this king

#narcos mexico imagine #narcos mexico imagines #amado carrillo fuentes #amado carrillo fuentes x reader #narcos mexico #narcos: mexico #narcos imagine #narcos

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edencantstopfallininlove · 4 years

Text

To Douse

Content Warnings: night terrors, major character death (but not really), hurt/comfort, Dhar rejects toxic masculinity, tears, A BIG DAMN HUG, WAFFs galore

A/N: Sometimes you just want to comfort your faves, y’know? Set two days after the endgame.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

His eyes open slowly as he tries to make sense of where he is.

A dark room. A menacing droning. A circle of deep purple flames surrounding his body, trapping him in the void, forming a single ring of heat amidst the biting cold against exposed skin. They bite and whip at his flesh, taunting him as they go; each mark a reminder that he is expendable. Worthless. A tool. Their cruel, shrill voices grow louder, louder still. He wants to cover his ears and scream, but before he gets the chance-

A flash, and he leaps into the blue sky like a falcon, leaving the room far behind. He draws his sword and aims for the angrier of the two duelling creatures. He's barely breathing, and yet he finds words. He doesn't hear himself speak. He doesn't need to. All that matters is stopping this beast he barely recognises as his leader, his reluctant friend. And yet, from the furthest reaches, on the howling wind, he is rattled for a moment by a desolate scream. A lament, he assumes, for a future that will never be.

Through the wall of stone he constructs bursts an ungodly light, brighter than anything he had ever seen before.

His eyes widen.

Everything burns.

White.

Noise.

....

Dhar awakens with a jolt. His mind races to make sense of everything he had just seen. The contact between his back and the bed is grounding, but does little to ease his shaky breaths and pounding heart. He looks around the bedroom; it's dark, but he can somehow tell it's just as he left it. And yet, his entire body starts to quiver... No. He shouldn't be feeling like this. The best thing he can do is try to ignore it and go back to-

“Dhar?”

His train of thought is derailed by a whisper of his name. He glances left to identify the speaker. In the dark, he can just about make out garnet red hair and kind blueish-grey eyes.

Oh, Heather. She shouldn't be seeing him like this.

“My love, is something the matter?” She asks, voice deepened by the need for rest, but still soft and full of concern.

“I'm fine," Dhar lies. “Go back to sleep, will you?”

“No,” replies Heather, shaking her head. “You can't fool me that easily. I haven't seen you tremble like this before; something must be up. Please, know that you can tell me anything.”

Dhar's body tenses up at the piercing of his defenses. With a sigh, he tries to recollect the ordeal.

“It was a bad dream. I was by myself in a room, pitch black, and then there was this droning noise. I couldn't work out where it was coming from. Then there was, like, purple fire everywhere and the flames were actually lashing at me... I don't know why, but it reminded me of when Ravannavar had cast me away in our final battle. His words were just echoing around me; they were screaming at me at one point.

“Next thing I knew, I was back to when I almost died. My body was just... moving on its own - I knew what was going to happen to me, but no matter how hard I tried to stop, there was a voice in my head that kept drowning myself out. 'All you'll ever be good for,' it said. It trapped me within myself. Then I heard you screaming...” He winces at the thought. “But by that point, it was too late for me to do any more. Everything turned white and it felt like my whole body was on fire.”

Once the last detail has been described, Dhar shifts himself to face Heather fully. “I don't know, it just rattled me so much...”

Heather nods, processing the awful dream her lover had. Before he can apologize, he feels a soft hand cupping his face. He remains tense, desperate to stay in control lest he scare her away.

“Gods,” says Heather, now stroking Dhar's face, “I'm so sorry about that. That I couldn't do anything to save you... But it's over now. None of what you just saw, or heard, or felt, was real. You're safe. I'm with you. And I promise, no matter what may happen from here on out, I'll protect you. You deserve that. I couldn't live with myself if I let something happen to the man I love.”

She retracts her hand, placing both in the empty space on the mattress between the two, then leans back a little. “Do you need a hug?”

Dhar freezes again. A hug. In twenty years, in spite of past lovers and the man he once called a father, those have been hard to come by. The notion was almost taboo. They hardly came around, Dhar reasoned, because the culture of the army led him to believe that so much as needing one made him less of a man.

But that's none of his concern anymore. The army is no longer his home. He belongs by Heather's side and, while her offer came as a shock, it touched him in a way he didn't think possible.

He finally lowers his guard.

His trembling body softens and the tears that long pricked his eyes finally fall, wet and hot against his face. He stays like that for mere seconds before he pulls Heather suddenly and desperately to his chest like his life depends on it, resting his head on her shoulder as his entire being is racked by his sobs. Though taken aback at first, Heather tenderly links her own arms around his torso, tracing slow, deliberate circles into his back. Nothing in this world would harm her favourite person if she could help it.

“Shhh... You’re okay.”

Heather feels Dhar's sobs slowly, but surely, quieten and his breath deepen as she does everything in her power to calm him down, but she doesn't rush him; he needs to know that it's okay to experience these feelings and release them. Eventually, he mutters his thanks as he tentatively releases his grip on her, prompting her to do the same to him in turn.

“Come to think of it,” she says as she does, “That's the first time you've cried in front of me.”

Dhar sniffles and considers turning away. “I'm sorry, should I-”

“No, no. Don't ever apologize for that. I want you to know that it doesn't make you weak. If anything, I'm glad that you feel comfortable enough around me to let that happen. You've come a long way to let yourself be as vulnerable as you just were.” She shuffles upwards to give him a kiss on the forehead. “I'm proud of you.”

The next thing Heather knows, Dhar rockets forwards again, this time so that his mouth can meet hers. His face is still a touch damp from needed tears, but he smiles against his love's lips and his heart flutters blissfully within his bare chest. No other person makes him feel this secure and happy...

“Thank you,” he says in-between deep kisses. “You're so good to me... But promise me you'll be safe, too.”

“If it's you, then I swear it on my own life. Let’s always keep each other well.”

Satisfied that his kiss quota has more than been met, Dhar settles his head onto Heather’s chest, cuddling her from the side. He gingerly shuts his eyes and sighs in contentment.

“You don’t have to try to go back to sleep if you don’t feel up to it, you know,” says Heather, who had shifted onto her back to accommodate him.

“Well,” mutters Dhar, “I want to. I think I’ll feel a lot better if I can hold onto you like this, baby.”

Another first. Heather gives a smile crinkled with tiredness.

“Good. I’ll be here if you need me.” She places a hand in his short chalky white locks, savouring how surprisingly soft it feels to touch. Her heartbeat slows as she continues to sleepily stroke it. “Rest well, Dhar. I love you.”

“I love you too, Heather. I hope you know that. Good night.”

Perfectly at ease, Dhar feels himself sink down onto the bed and his beloved’s body. He is grounded further by the sounds of Heather’s faint breathing. His mind quietens, the memory of his nightmare fading as he slowly succumbs to sleep.

How lucky he is to love, and be loved by, a woman like her.

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@ode-to-joie @tuff-and-fluff @polaris-ships @f-orever-and-ever @gorillazgirlfriend @dazailovemail @abigailsfictionalothers @angelfairy-ships @nougatships (BTW, glad I got this done before the end of the Selfship Con!)

#selfshipping #self shipping community #selfship positivity #self ship stuff #long post cw #I Write Stuff Sometimes #I'll Bury You My Love #ok to reblog

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creepyoldbeejfics · 4 years

Note

Do one where the reader just moved in with The Deetz and she meets Beej for the first time and he’s flirting with her trying to get her to say his name but she isn’t falling for it 😂❤️

Omg yes! Great idea!! Btw, I’m sorry in advance, but this is going to be depressing at first. Also this one’s really long and a bit of a rollercoaster tbh, so sorry about that😅

Don’t You Wanna See Him Suffer?

(Beetlejuice x Fem Reader)

Warnings: Angst, mentions of abuse, and bruises. For this, there is a hotline link at the very end because I want you all to be safe.

Pic credit: @thewolfisapartofmysoul

After years of being abused by your boyfriend and not being able to get away from him, you’re finally moving. You would’ve contacted the police for a restraining order on him, but you were afraid of what would happen if you called the police, or broke up with him. So the best thing you thought you could do was move in with your friend Lydia. You didn’t want her family to know why you were moving in because you were afraid they’d call the police for you and you didn’t want your problem to become their problem. So, you made up a lie saying that your house was going to be under construction for 8 months so you needed somewhere to stay. You just needed time to relax your mind and clear your head until you could come up with a plan for how to get rid of your boyfriend. Besides, maybe he’ll give up and leave during those 8 months.

Your boyfriend had to go to work tonight, so while he was out at work, you got your suitcases and brought them out to your car. You gave the house one last look, and drove off. Tears started to stream down your face, as you were unsure what this was going to do for you, and were scared that he’d somehow find you. Luckily you blocked him on every social media platform and turned off your location. You were already imagining how livid he’d be which was making you cry even more. In hopes of blocking out your flooding thoughts, you turned up the radio.

After some time, you finally reached their house. You couldn’t wait to live with the three of them. Well, temporarily at least. You wiped your tears as much as you could, so Lydia’s parents wouldn’t question you. You grabbed your suitcases and headed up to the door dropping most of them because of how heavy they were. You hesitated, wondering if you were doing the right thing, and feeling bad that you were burdening them with another person in the house. But you rang the doorbell anyway. The door swung open with Lydia’s dad greeting you at the door.

“Oh! Let me get those for you!” He exclaimed as he sort of struggled to bring them in. They were really heavy. Oops. “Lydia!!! Your friend is here!!”

You walk in looking around at the house. You’ve never been to her house before so it was good that you finally got to see it. You noticed that the furniture was a little strange. The whole house seemed strange. Lydia came running down the stairs, giving you a big hug. “Ugggh!! I missed you so much, (Y/N)!!”

“I missed you too!” You squealed as you squeezed her tight. You two had been friends for many years, but you hadn’t seen her much at all due to your overprotective boyfriend. “Come on my room’s this way!” she said as she grabbed your suitcases. “Oh I can get them!” You say trying to take them back. “Nah it’s fine. Geez! What’d you put in these?? They’re so heavy!” “Bricks and our favorite bath bomb,” you joked. “A toaster?” You nodded causing both of you to start laughing. You didn’t actually bring one, you just had a ton of stuff.

Once you both got to her room she put your suitcases down, panting afterwards. “Wow, I love your room. It’s so spooky and dark looking. In a good way,” you said in awe. “Oh, no I take that as a compliment. That’s exactly what I was going for,” she said smiling proudly. “I’ll be right back. I have to go to the bathroom,” Lydia said, leaving you alone in her room.

You walked around looking at some of the things in her room. You noticed a picture of her and her mom on her shelf. You smiled, because you knew by just looking at them that they must’ve been inseparable.

All of a sudden a chill ran down your spine and you didn’t feel so alone anymore. You looked around, but no one was there. Even though you didn’t really believe in spirits or ghosts, you thought that her mom could’ve been there and didn’t like you picking up the picture of her and her daughter. So you immediately put it down out of fear.

You tried to relax, so you ignored the feeling and looked at the other pictures. One of them was a picture of her and her friends, and another one was of her and her step mom and dad. ‘What a nice family,’ you thought to yourself. Suddenly, you saw a very strange picture. It made no sense. Lydia had her arms out like she had her arms around two people, but no one was there. You thought, ‘well maybe she was just trying to be silly.’ After all, she likes to joke around and prank people and stuff. But then you noticed that a piece of her hair seemed to be... FLOATING?? Like it was resting on someone’s shoulder or arm... that made no sense... that’s not even physically possible. You’d have to have someone else there...

“How...?” You said out loud, trailing off.

“Yeah it sucks that ghosts can’t be seen in pictures...” a rough voice said from behind you.

You immediately whipped around to see a man in a black and white striped suit. His skin was pale with mold spots and moss on it here and there. His fluffy, yet spiked hair was a pear green with lighter highlights of green on the tips. Maybe he’s not a man? You noticed his eyes were yellow with golden specks scattered throughout his irises. Contacts, perhaps? Then you realized he reeked of death and decay. Hopefully that’s just some really bad cologne... instead of... well whatever he is, he scared the shit out of you. You had so many questions, but the big question that kept haunting you was why was he sort of... attractive?

“I bet photo bombing is so much fun...” he sighed. Then he looked at you, eyes widening realizing you were making direct eye contact with him.

“Wait. Can you see me??”

“Y-yes...” you stammered, turning around and grabbing a lamp immediately. You held it upside down getting ready to swing it at him.

“BOO!” you hear from behind you. You scream, aiming the lamp at Lydia now.

“WOAH!!! What’s going on??” Lydia raised her hands up before realizing the demon who stood next to you. “Oh...”

“I’ll call 911!! Go tell your parents!! I don’t know where he came from!!”

“(Y/N)! Stop! Calm down... this is a friend of mine,” Lydia explained.

“What?? But he’s...” you trailed off looking at him. You had no idea what he was. Some sort of entity?

“Sexy?” he asked smirking. “Irresistible? The best mistake of your life? Wait...”

“No more like lonely, depressed, horny, clingy, annoying, and weird,” Lydia remarked. “Oh, yeah. And he’s a demon.”

“A demon?!? Do your parents know?? How long have you been friends??”

“Yes, they met him shortly after I met him. We’ve been friends for a few years now. I’ll explain everything,” Lydia assured you.

“Okay... does this demon have a name?” You questioned looking at him suspiciously.

“His name is Beetlejuice,” Lydia replied.

“Beetlejuice? That’s a strange name...”

“Actually it’s my middle name. My first name’s Lawrence,” the demon said looking smugly at you.

“Uhh, why is he staring at me like that?” You asked, stepping back uncomfortably.

Beetlejuice chuckled, “Lyds, Delia told us not to have snacks before dinner, but I think I’ll have to make an exception with this one.”

“Excuse me?!?” you asked disturbed. ‘I did not sign up for this,’ you thought to yourself.

“Beetlejuice!” Lydia scolded, hitting him in the belly. “We talked about this!”

“Time for dinner!” Delia called from downstairs.

When you came down the stairs, the family introduced you to a couple, who were ghosts. Adam and Barbara Maitland. They apparently died in this house, so the Deetz offered to share their home with them. Throughout most of dinner, Beetlejuice stared at you. Even when you caught him, he continued to stare. It was weird and made you uncomfortable, but you found yourself staring back at times. The Deetz would ask you how you were doing, and you’d lie making up a bunch of stuff to show that you were happy. While you told them this, you noticed that Beetlejuice’s stare became sympathetic, which really messed with your head. It’s almost as if he knew... No. That’s impossible.

Once you finished dinner, both you, Lydia, and Beetlejuice went upstairs to her bedroom so they could explain everything to you. First, Lydia explained how she met the Maitlands and Beetlejuice, and then explained everything that happened afterwards. This included her telling you about her pain and how she was suicidal. I felt terrible for her, but you understood how she felt.

“Wait so you actually went to hell??” You asked, trying to take everything in.

“Yup,” Lydia confirmed.

“That’s so cool,” you said, clearly intrigued.

“Actually, it sucked. It was an endless abyss of nothing.”

“Oh...”

“And you wonder why I’ve always stayed on earth instead of going to the Netherworld,” Beetlejuice said, crossing his arms.

“That and your mother,” you added. Beetlejuice nodded, his face immediately turning smug. “Besides, I’d rather stay in a world with sexy breathers like you...”

“Well I hate to break it to you, but you’ll have to find another ‘sexy breather’ elsewhere. I’m taken,” you said confidently, crossing your arms. It wasn’t a lie, you were dating someone, but you mentally cringed remembering the abusive man you were with.

“Well, I’m gonna go to bed before things get more creepy and awkward,” Lydia said raising an eyebrow at us.

“Yeah, me too. Goodnight, Lydia. Goodnight Beetlejuice,” you said, walking out of her room to go to their guest bedroom.

You walked in and opened your suitcase to put on an oversized t-shirt and PJ shorts. You loved wearing oversized t-shirts and were able to pull them off really well. You walked into the bathroom and changed, brushed your teeth, and then did your nightly skin routine. You walked out to go back to your bedroom to see Beetlejuice sitting on your bed.

“What are you doing here??” You challenged.

“I don’t sleep. I mean I do, but it’s more just for fun.”

“Well I do, so get out,” you barked.

“Fine. I guess you’ll never know why I’m actually in here then...” he said walking past you, smirking.

“Okay, why are you here?”

“I just wanted to get to know you, doll...”

“Yeah right. You already know everything about me,” you huffed.

“What gives you that idea?” He queried.

“The way you look at me. Like you know something. It’s creepy.”

“Well, I’m a creepy old guy, what do you expect? But yeah, you’ve caught me,” he said raising his hands. “Except I don’t have you completely figured out.”

You knew he knew something. You wondered if he could read minds. At this point it wouldn’t be too off brand. “Why did you look at me with pity when I was explaining how I’ve been doing?”

“Because I know you lied... you’re not happy.”

You walked backwards, sitting on your bed. He followed, sitting at the foot of your bed.

“How did you...” you trailed off. This was insane. You smiled and everything when you were telling their family how you had been doing. You were great at lying. Which isn’t a good thing, but it sure helped save you from getting more scars and bruises from your boyfriend.

“As a demon I’m more prone to sensing hidden emotions. And sometimes I’m able to tell when people are lying. Not all the time though... but I could tell you were. The look in your eyes was full of pain and sorrow.”

You looked at him, shocked and amazed. You immediately shook your head, “I’m fine.”

“You’re not safe, are you?” He eyed your wrist.

You noticed the bruise, and immediately turned your wrist over.

“What happened?” He asked, reaching for your wrist to turn it back over.

“Don’t touch me!” You snapped, raising your arms away from him. “What do you want with me anyway? Why do you care??”

He looked at you with pity before pushing back his sleeves to reveal his own scars and bruises. Your eyes widened at the sight, causing you to regret what you said. “I’m sorry, I had no idea... Was it your mom?” You asked softly.

He nodded silently, looking down at the ground. More silence filled the air. Both of you were looking at the floor for some time.

You revealed your wrist, caressing the bruise, “My boyfriend did this...” He looked over at your wrist and then up at you. Your eyes met, and for a second you felt like hugging him, but refrained yourself.

“I was 17 when I met him. He was 18. There were no red flags. He was perfect. A true gentleman. He was always there for me when I needed him and was constantly giving me love and affection. But the worst mistake of my life was trusting him.”

Beetlejuice looked at you with sympathy in his golden eyes. You looked at him before continuing your story.

Throughout the story, you noticed that the concern in his face grew more and he would keep gradually moving closer to you.

“It was getting unbearable and I still can’t believe I haven’t figured out how to leave him. I’ve put up with this bastard for 7 years and have done nothing about it!!! I’m weak!!!” You shouted angrily with tears in your eyes. “I’m a coward...”

Beetlejuice gently grabbed your hands, holding them in his. “Hey. No you’re not. You did think of something. Look where you are now. You found a way to escape,” he said squeezing your hands to reassure you. “That was so brave of you. So don’t call yourself a coward or weak. I believe you’re going to make it, okay?” He said wiping a tear off your cheek with his thumb.

You looked up at him, trembling. You hugged him, holding on tight and burying your face into his chest as more tears streamed down your face. He was shocked the minute you hugged him, probably because he doesn’t typically receive affection. But he wrapped his arms around you anyway, resting his head on yours.

“How do you know it’s going to be okay though?” You ask pulling away from him, your eyes still glossy from your tears.

“Hey. I’m a demon. I know everything,” he chuckled.

You blush, looking off to the side uncomfortably. “You know...” he begins slyly, “I could help you...”

“What do you mean? How?” You ask frowning.

He grinned, “All you have to do is say my name three times doll, and I’m all yours. I could get you out of this mess.”

“Say your name three times?”

“Yup. But it must be spoken unbroken,” he said waiting in anticipation.

“Okay, Beetlejuice...”

He adjusted his tie getting ready for the big moment.

“Beetlejuice...” you said with a gleam in your eye.

“Yes!!” He growled in excitement.

“Wait, whats in it for you?”

“No, oh, come on!!” He whined. “I... well... I get to help the most gorgeous breather...”

“Wow, you’re so convincing.” You rolled your eyes.

“Fine! It’s just, well I understand where you’re coming from. You feel trapped. Kinda like how a king is trapped by the other chess pieces. Like you have no more moves to play.”

You eyed him suspiciously, yet curiously, always intrigued by how he would occasionally start to get into deep talking.

“But sometimes you gotta look at it differently. Or uhh... think outside the box,” he sputtered. “Look for something to help you. Use your resources. For example, me. I’m a pretty reliable resource if I do say so myself.”

“Oh yeah?” You asked teasingly. “What do you have in mind?”

“Well I think he should be the one to go...”

“Ha! What are you going to do? Snap your fingers and he disappears?” You said scoffing.

“Yeah... or we could make it a little more fun...” he said smirking.

“What? How? How would you even make this situation ‘fun’?” You asked frowning.

"By making him suffer... give him a slow, long, painful death.”

“What?!?! No!!!” You yelled, covering your mouth immediately and looking at the clock to see that it’s 2:30 am.

“Fine, fine... at least let me torture him a bit.” He said opening his closed hand, causing a big flame to rise from his palm.

“No!! Absolutely not!!” You said pushing him. “Why do you like violence so much anyway?”

“Well, it’s just infuriating how he’s been treating you.”

You glared are him. “And violence is fun!”

“I should’ve known that you were only going to help me purely for entertainment.” You said getting up to walk to the other side of the room. He reached out for you a bit as you got up, not wanting you to leave his side.

“No, wait! It’s like a win win! I get to help you and get to have fun while doing it!” He assured happily.

“Nothing about this situation is fun!” You shouted. “I really thought you were a pretty understanding and empathetic guy, but I guess I was completely wrong.” You said, hurt. “I guess you only care about making yourself happy.”

“I’ve haven’t been happy in a long time.” He said looking at the floor with sorrow in his eyes.

“Oh no. Don’t even try to get me to pity you because I won’t. If you want someone’s pity so badly then go back to Lydia.”

“I just want someone to understand me. I thought you’d understand because you’re going through something similar as to what I went through.”

You rolled your eyes turning to look at him, his back facing you as he continued to look at the floor. Your eyes widened at the sight of his once green hair, being completely purple. “Abused, neglected, treated like a worthless tool. I mean in different ways obviously because that was your boyfriend to you and that was my mother-“

“Why is your hair a different color? How are you doing that?” You cut him off.

He sighed, grabbing at his hair and falling back into your bed. “My hair changes colors based on the emotions I’m feeling,” he said blatantly.

“Really??” You asked, popping your head above his. “That’s really cool,” you said, intrigued.

“Actually, it’s pretty inconvenient for me. I can’t hide my feelings like the rest of you breathers can. But even when I want people to know how I feel, they don’t really care. But I guess I sort of deserve that,” he chuckled but his weak smile turned into a face of dejection.

“So I guess purple means sad, right?” You asked, gently sitting next to him as he layed on his back. Your eyes both met, but he looked away without responding.

“I’m sorry... I shouldn’t have judged you so harshly. I’m just.. it’s hard for me to trust people.” You said looking off to the side. “It’s okay. Not many people trust me at first. I guess that’s just the kind of vibes I give off.”

Silence filled the room once again. You thought about your situation back at home and Beetlejuice’s strange offer. You felt bad for him because of what he’s gone through, but you knew he wasn’t genuinely wanting to help you, he just wanted to cause some chaos. At the same time you wanted him to feel wanted and cared for. ‘He’s a demon,’ you told yourself. ‘You have to be careful.’

“So have you thought about my offer?”

“Well, you’ll have to be more convincing...” You said standing up from your bed.

“I told you, I can end this for you.” He said sitting up, looking impatient.

“Without killing anyone?” You asked suspiciously, coming to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Without killing anyone,” he confirmed swinging his legs over the edge of the bed to sit next to you.

“Without any violence or chaos?”

“No promises...” he chuckled.

You hummed frustratedly, not knowing if you could trust him.

“Come on. What else are you going to? You’re too afraid to call the police, you’re too afraid to tell your family or ours. Or are you just going to wait it out and hope that he leaves? You’re still forgetting the fact that when you go back he could still be there. And you know what could happen the minute you walk through the door. You could die if you go back...”

You looked to the side, your mind at war. He made a pretty good point. Unless you could somehow get to the garage to see if your boyfriend’s car was there. But it didn’t have any windows and besides, he’d hear your car. Unfortunately your car wasn’t the quietest... you couldn’t believe you were thinking it, but maybe the best decision was to accept Beetlejuice’s offer. He was pretty convincing and it didn’t help that he was attractive. You turned to look at him, gazing into his eyes.

“Besides, what were the chances of actually meeting a demon that has the power to do anything you desire....” he said softly and flirtatiously.

“Anything...” you started looking smugly at him and using your hands to bring yourself closer to him. “Anything I desire...?” You asked slowly, now inches away from his face. His eyes widen at your response and you look up to see a strand of his green hair slowly turn pink. He noticed you looking at his hair, causing him to run his hand through his hair, keeping his hand over the pink strand.

“Anything, babes...” he said grinning, almost at whisper. He had removed his hand from his hair and moved even closer, and began looking at your lips. At this point, beginning at the roots, the rest of his green hair slowly started turning pink.

“Beetlejuice...” you said softly, looking at his lips as well.

“Yeah?” He asked quietly, still concentrating on your lips and moving closer.

“Beetlejuice...” you repeated, grinning. At this point your lips were only inches away from each other.

“Oh...” he realized you were about to say his name three times. “Say it again, doll...” he said smirking, still concentrating on your lips.

You suddenly noticed all of his hair was pink.

“Wait, what does pink mean?” You asked abruptly, backing away quickly.

He grinned still looking at you the same way. “It means this...” He leaned towards you without warning, his hand moving towards the back of your neck. “What are you,” you started, his lips interrupting your question. You weren’t actually planning on kissing him before, so you were pretty shocked. Your eyes widened at first, but you then closed them, finding yourself kissing him back. Your hands moved from his chest to his shoulders.

You pulled away confused, yet loving what just happened. You couldn’t believe a demon just kissed you. You were blushing, noticing his hair was still completely pink.

“Well... I must say... you are pretty persuasive...” you said teasingly. “But I’m still never gonna say your name three times.”

“I can live with that,” he said smirking. “That’s not the right word in my case, but you get what I’m saying.”

You giggled, still gazing at him lovingly. You realized that you both still had your arms around each other, but you decided not to let go.

“So what are you going to do if you’re not gonna accept my help?”

“I’m not sure, but I’ll think of something. I appreciate you accepting your defeat though.”

“That’s because one way or another, I know you’ll need me.” He said slyly looking down at you.

IMPORTANT NOTE: If you are in trouble, are getting abused or feel unsafe at home, press this link down below!!

Otherwise reach out to someone for help!!

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice broadway #beetlejuice bway #beetlejuice x reader #savebeetlejuice #lydia deetz #charles deetz #delia deetz #adam maitland #barbara maitland

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imacrowcawcaw · 5 years

Text

MY MASTERLIST

Sweetness hot meets sweetness cold, light and airy swirls around dark and heavy for the perfect blend.OTHER LINKS: WATTPAD & ROCK FIC

@insannywestan - Sanny shipping blog

@theladylovingcrow - my writing/art blog. If you wanna skip all the other posts on my main and get straight to the good stuff, go here (or use this masterlist!)

*** CONTAINS SMUT

* CONTAINS SEXUAL THEMES/EXTENSIVE KISSING

Greta Van Fleet

SANNY (Sam Kiska x Danny Wagner)

*** The Most Beautiful Distraction - tumblr - AO3

"Wanna ride you," Sam sighed, admission joining the swirl of colors in the air around them; burgundy kisses, blue touches, bright electric flashes of pain subdued by delicate green affection and care. Danny ached for him - the fiery burn in his stomach overcoming the duller waves from his burned hands.

*** Fuck The Movie, I Wanna Fuck You - tumblr - AO3

They were taking a break from touring, just chilling back in Frankenmuth. Danny had come over to his second home, and was snuggled up on the couch with his best friend, watching a movie. Everyone else was doing their thing - cooking, playing, talking on the phone - all perfectly normal for a nice, happy family. But FUCK Sam was feeling horny, naughty, and curious as to how Danny would react if he moved his hand just a bit higher....

*** Skin on Skin, Hearts Laid Bare - tumblr p1, p2, p3 - AO3

They started off cuddling as a necessity in chilly tents and cramped car rides, but it eventually became something much, much more. Sam finds that there isn't a safer place in the world, no where else he'd rather be, than when he's wrapped up in his best friend's strong, caring arms. And Danny, he just can't get enough of the feeling of Sam's silky smooth skin spread out underneath his hands. A chronicle of Samuel Kiszka and Daniel Wagner's budding love.

*** Silk and Satin, Leather and Lace - tumblr - AO3

Sam has a surprise for Danny. A lacy, kinky one

*** No, Sam! - tumblr - AO3

Sam and Danny keep getting interrupted.

*** Keys To My Heart - tumblr - AO3

Danny just wants to try out Sam's new car, but the evil genius has some stipulations (like a handjob)

*** Blood Brothers - tumblr - AO3

"He leaned forward to nuzzle his face into the crook of Sam's neck, smelling the coconut oil in his hair and the rich rush of life flowing just below his skin. Danny licked at his jugular, giving it a small, almost affectionate nip before grabbing Sam's arm that was around his back and bringing it forward."

*** These Dreams - tumblr - AO3

"You're telling me that we've known each other, been near inseparable, since seventh grade, and you've never once thought about it? At all? You've had to have thought about giving guys a try at least once, everyone questions their sexuality."

Sammy gave him a shit eating grin. He scooted even closer to Danny, so that their knees touched and their noses weren't more than half a foot apart. Danny stopped laughing.

* The Sweetness of Love’s Bliss - tumblr - AO3

Sweetness hot meets sweetness cold, light and airy swirls around dark and heavy for the perfect blend.

Don’t Go Away Mad (Please Actually Talk To Me About the Issue) - tumblr - AO3

They'd slept together so many times - but this was different. It would have been different starting last night, if a misunderstanding hadn't made Danny kick himself to the couch... but that didn't matter now.

* New Places, Friendly Faces - tumblr p1, p2, p3 - AO3

Danny was nervous; he had been building up the courage for weeks to arrange a date, and now.... He wasn't quite sure what to think of the situation he found himself in. The night certainly wasn't going as he had expected it to - and his emotions had never ridden a roller coaster this fast. Hell, the beautiful angel holding his hand wasn't even the one he had arranged to meet 2 hours ago.

*** High Sex is the Best (Just Don’t Fall Asleep) - linked under twins

Sam figures out that he's attracted to his best friend after catching Danny jerking off in the shower. Then they get high. (BTW this story focuses on Danny and Sam, though Jake and Josh are definitely in there)

*** The Lady and Her Knights - p1 - p2 - AO3

You are seriously the luckiest girl in the world: Daniel Wagner is your boyfriend! And, yet, you can't push away the fantasy of having more. Specifically, Sam - you want his best friend, too. (THREESOME SMUT WITH HEAVY SAM/DANNY)

*** Black Panties and An Angel’s Face (continuation of ‘Silk and Satin...’) - tumblr - AO3

Sam had said that he would wear whatever Danny bought him.... would he, really? Fuck, if not them this was about to he a sucky Christmas for the both of them.

*** Grindr - AO3

Sam gaped at him dumbly; mouth open wide, eyebrows raised, hands clinging tightly to his shoulders. Danny grinned, predatory and full of satisfaction, and thrust harder.

TWINS

* Freezeframe (teasing, talking mythology, and kissing while on a quiet evening hike) - tumblr - AO3

Then I Recognized Me (comparing appearances, short and fluffy, could be gen or slash) - tumblr - AO3

* High Sex is the Best (Just Don’t Fall Asleep) (Sanny is the main pairing but the twins are shacking up in the background) - tumblr - AO3

*** These Dreams (hinted at the very end) - linked under Sanny

DRABBLES

* GVF Halloween Drabbles (6 random Halloween themed drabbles, some slashy) - tumblr - AO3

WHOLE BAND

Four Cute Little Piggies In a Blanket (foursome smut ~ yes in that way) - AO3

Metallica

Eyes of Juniper (Lars pisses off an ancient goddess and gets himself and Kirk turned into girls, eventuallly Jlars; on hiatus) - AO3

Guns N’ Roses

STEVEN ADLER X DUFF MCKAGAN

A New Addition To The Family (Stevie and Duff go adopt a dog, super fluffy and humorous) - AO3

DUZZY (Duff Mckagan x Izzy Stradlin)

*** Black Dog (Izzy blows Duff in the studio) - AO3

Baby, Let’s Get Wet (friends with benefits, Duff wants to fuck in the shower; half completed so sorry) - AO3

Young Love In The Woods (middle school AU, Izzy and Duff reminisce on how they met) - AO3

Lazy Days (a short and fluffy lazy morning in bed) - AO3

*** Curiosity Killed The Cat, But Satisfaction Brought It Back (humorous smut, Izzy comes up with a plan to seduce Duff; on hiatus in the middle of the smut woops) - AO3

SLAXL (Slash x Axl Rose)

*** Curiosity Killed The Cat, But Satisfaction Brought It Back (background pairing) - AO3

Led Zeppelin

My Love, My Darling (ultra fluffy winter-themed fluff) - tumblr - AO3

The Magicians (TV)

Treasure (slow burn, binding spell gone wrong) - AO3

Other Fandoms I Could Write For

Merlin (BBC)

Queen

Elementary (tv show)

Percy Jackson Series (the first 12 books)

How To Train Your Dragon

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Catch-22 (book)

Hey Folks! A few reminders I would love for y'all to read

• I WILL write straight romance/sex or reader inserts, you just have to ask for it! I know that my library is almost all gay slash, that's just because that's all that has been asked of me

• I love feedback! Give my stories an out of ten rating, constructive criticism, a video of you screaming, I don't care - But any reactions to my work are greatly cherished and much encouraged. It helps me gauge what y'all are into and improve writing

• My disclaimer, as copy-pasted from Rockfic: I don't own any of these people, places, or ideas (except the ones that I do). Any coincidences are just that. If you have a problem with my subject matter (other than a factual correction - you can comment that and I'll fix it) message me privately and I may or may not respond.

A/N: If any of these links aren’t working, please let me know so I can fix them! Thank you.

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jayhartwinsterling · 6 years

Text

Bandersnatch (Black Mirror) Megapost

Now loading... A *very* sizeable post with a lot to get through - here I am going to talk about the five “main” endings, the Easter eggs, why constructing a traditional flowchart for this game is technically a bit of a vain effort, how it’s probably best to link everything up in a guide - and the implications this story has regarding *us*.

Chapter 1: The Endings

So, we basically have five “main” endings. I say “main” because... well, we’ll get back to it on ending number five.

Ending One Description: The first of which is what I call the “How It Was Meant To Go” - and getting this one is quite simple. All you need to do is accept the proposal Stefan’s given by the Boss to make Bandersnatch with a in-house team. Satpal shows up and then Colin tells Stefan as he’s leaving “Sorry mate, wrong path.” We then jump forward five months to find that Bandersnatch was rushed in production, cut down and done badly because of it being a team effort and it gets a 0/5 review.

We loop back around to that decision again but this time, Colin thinks he’s met Stefan before and Stefan knows the memory error with Colin’s game when it happens. And we come back to the decision. (Refusal again will give a similar scene btw where Stefan accepts and Colin tells him it was the wrong choice again - but Satpal doesn’t enter and we just... end.

Ending One Analysis: So this first ending is rather simple. But the key to it for me lies rather simply in the fact that it can be done... without doing anything at all. If you left your remote/controller/mouse/finger wherever it is and don’t make any choices, this is where you end up. In essence, the universe just runs as it should and we don’t play god over Stefan’s life at all. I know it might be a little difficult to get what I’m on about here but consider that Stefan makes a remark to Dr. Haynes not too long after you take the refuse path, that he wanted to accept the offer and he doesn’t know what made him refuse. We did. This is more clearly pressed upon if you get to the point in your path where Stefan realises something is dictating his life and asks for a sign. We directly throw him a sign - if you’re super direct, that sign happens to be the most direct interaction we could possibly make with him. Telling him that he’s on Netflix in the 21st century for our entertainment and we’re controlling his life.

So, as I say, Ending One is where we don’t have an impact and thus things play out in the universe as they should. Bandersnatch is finished, it gets a 0/5 and Stefan resolves to try again. Ironically, if you just sit back and don’t take the option of making a choice (because, remember, us even making a choice is in itself a choice), though all the game does terribly - this is arguably the best outcome for Stefan. And all because we listened to the exact advice the trailer gave us with its music choice: “Relax. Don’t do it.”

Ending Two: If you go straight to Dr. Haynes (rather than going after Colin) and take your pills when you get home, you get what I call the “” ending. Stefan takes the pills, we jump forward five months to find that Bandersnatch got completed by Stefan but due to his pills, it comes across flat after the midway point and only gets a 2.5/5 rating.

Ending Two Analysis: Not a lot to say here - but it’s worth noting that the review dude on the TV mentions that if the creator had second chances, they should go back and do this game all over again but differently. Keep that in mind for later. It’s worth noting that if you take Stefan off the path that the universe was “meant” to take and then leave it to its own devices (and Stefan to his own choices) again, not making choices for him - then you’ll end up at this one. Almost as if the universe was trying to course correct itself...

Ending Three: “Stefan Jumps.” explanatory how we get here... We jump forward four months, and find that due to Stefan’s accidental death, the game seems to have been speedily finished by someone else.

Ending Three Analysis: We get no rating this time but TV review guy does say the game is bad. He also mentions that it seems abrupt, jarring, bleak, creepy... Almost a perfect way to describe the ending - since it then just ends.

Ending Four: “The P.A.C.S. Ending”. In this one, we unlock Stefan’s dad’s safe with the password “PAC” (obtained by crossing over paths from following Colin to visiting Dr. Haynes... we’ll come by to the implications of such things later.) and find to our surprise that Stefan’s entire life is part of a conspiratorial program, not only well documented but also manufactured with the trauma of his mother’s death being totally falsified. Dad wakes up, refuses to speak and in his rage, Stefan hits him with somethi--- Oh wait, it’s a dream. Just a dream... But then it goes off the rails, quickly plunging us into the choice where we give Stefan a sign that he’s being controlled. Instead of Netflix, we now have the choice of P.A.C.S. - taking that option leads Stefan to kill his dad with the ashtray in a rage about the apparent conspiracy. Stefan then picks up the phone to phone Dr. Haynes - and we have to enter her number. Entering it correctly means that Stefan outright says to Hayne’s receptionist that he’s killed his dad. As he’s burying his dad, we hear distinct sirens and then cut to a review of Bandersnatch. The game is given a 2/5 rating and we discover that Stefan has been charged with killing his dad and locked up in jail.

Ending Four Analysis: It’s safe to say that P.A.C.S. didn’t actually exist outside of Stefan’s head and it’s his life paralleling Jerome F Davies’ obsession with conspiracy theories and delusions. But... what nobody seems to be really talking about is - we did that. Again. Leaving aside all the choices up to and including the safe, we make the P.A.C.S. sign appear and fuel Stefan’s dream-induced paranoia. In this ending, we in a way become Stefan’s delusion. (Oh, and don’t be surprised if you didn’t get this ending with your choices, or only part of it - again we’re coming to all that...)

Ending Five: “Time Rewritten” - now I’ll be honest, I did all these endings in one straight through run. Which made for a REALLY messy time in both my head and the game. Particularly with Colin... But anyway, for this one, I had to make Stefan pick up the family photo after having followed Colin and heard him say that mirrors let you travel through time. Stefan then seems to head through a mirror in the bathroom back in time to when he was a kid. And discovers that his dad took the teddy away from Stefan and locked it away in his room. He wakes up, I take him through the Netflix sign again. [During this, I led into what I’ll be addressing in a minute as Ending Four-B.] And take Stefan back to the locked room, this time entering the password “TOY”. Stefan unlocks the safe and finds his teddy within... And then it takes an odd turn. Stefan turns to find a younger dad - and then suddenly he is a child again. The younger dad relents and lets young Stefan put the teddy back under his bed. After doing so, suddenly older Stefan is looking at young Stefan sleeping. We cut back to young Stefan on the day Mum leaves... This time, he finds the teddy but his Mum is still running late. She’s gonna have to catch the next train - the one that leads to her demise - and we have to make the decision for young Stefan on whether to go or not. Of course, yes is my choice here - for though it’s a tragedy, it’s the last of these paths to take - we get young Stefan and Mum on the train, cut to black, and then see that older Stefan has died in Dr. Haynes’ office. We then get shown a TV screen and the credits come rolling in, whether we like it or not. And there’s what seems almost a tune playing but we’ll get back to that because if you’re a ZX Spectrum fan like myself, you know where that’s headed.

Ending Five Analysis: Alright, now there’s debate to be had here. Did Stefan really walk through a mirror and change time, undoing his own existence in the present, rendering himself dead on the spot? Did he slip away into a divergent reality and leave his original one behind? Or did he, in reliving the trauma with Dr. Haynes, live too far into it and died? Well, my opinion is that the last of those three is true. (Although, this conclusion is a little shot in the foot for me personally because I never discussed the death of Stefan’s mum with Dr. Haynes ever. Unless you try to make the conclusion that the entirety of my personal run through this game even from Stefan getting up at the very start of it was all in his reliving). Time to come clean about something I’ve been hinting through this post. Delusions. Almost all of the endings involve delusions. But, you’ll have to wait until the end of this chapter before I bring all of that together.

Ending Four-B: “Cut!” - having taken Stefan down the Netflix path and into a fight with Dr. Haynes, I told him to jump through the window. He runs to the window but it doesn’t open - and then we hear something shout CUT! The view pulls out to reveal that Stefan is in a studio, and that - in a very meta move - all of this is just a production being made (for TV, for film... for Netflix?) and that trying to jump out of the window isn’t in the script. Stefan is then addressed as Mike and it seems to be the case that he has fallen a little too much into character. The studio assistant, worried with his insistence that he is Stefan, rushes off to find a medic. And that’s the end of that.

Ending Four-B Analysis: Firstly, I put this with Ending Four because it’s down a similar path, and once again we become Stefan... sorry, Mike’s delusion. And this led me to an interesting thought about this universe where we’ve taken control of a delusional actor - is the alternative for taking the Netflix sign, which is having the fight with Dr. Haynes (as “scripted”) and being dragged off just a part of this universe’s production? In that instance, is the delusional then our own that this world is a reality when - surprise, surprise, it’s a Netflix production (and presumably, in that universe, also a Black Mirror episode)? Secondly, as an aside, the only option presented to me after this ending for a rewind was “Get Rabbit From Dad”...

Well, there you go, five “main” endings (and a bit) and an awful lot for me to explain...

Except... Ending Six. What I Believe Is The True “Main” Ending.

So we lead Stefan back to the sign, give him the Diverging Paths sign (or call it Whitebear, if thus inclined.), make him kill Dad, and make him chop up the body. Then, the Boss and Colin discuss the fact that Stefan is late with his work - Colin convinces him to leave Stefan be for another day. And what happens here on, well, happens. It’s worth noting the reluctance and pain Stefan has carrying out the order we gave him to chop up his Dad. But then, it’s contrasted by the lack of emotion he shows in Dr. Haynes’ office. Perhaps he’s taken that JFD documentary to heart about believing that if all paths occur, and there is no free will - then why care? Why feel guilt on behalf of what seems to be destiny? And honestly, I can’t blame Stefan... Because he doesn’t have free will here, we’re throwing decisions at him and he’s along for the ride. We made him kill his dad. We made him chop him up.

And herein lies our delusion. That in making these choices for him, we have a choice. Because we really don’t - we’re in a Bandersnatch of our own (if you’re a CYOA fan then you might’ve sensed this coming...) and honestly, we should’ve known from the start. We’re the ones that selected the option Black Mirror: Bandersnatch on Netflix and hit play, after all. Just as Stefan has pulled back from making an infinity of paths and left enough complexity to make it seem so. I mean, I’ll be blunt here even though I’ve yet to discuss it in depth in Chapter Two - technically, there is no way that any one human being is getting through every possible path/universe. To us, it may as well be infinite. And yet, it’s all just an illusion of free will.

Endings Two and Three all push us, the player, bluntly into going back into this warren of choices - to try again. Pushing us further on. Ending Four is more subtle, toying with us by giving us a tragic ending for Stefan so we feel inclined to go again and do better for him (and in my case, straight up offers up a path to Ending Five, and what seems a more hopeful ending until you get into it.) Ending One is even there if you decide to take the choice to not make any choices, to not interfere at all. Leaving the universe on course - but of course, this is our game and trap so it tells us not so subtly to try again as well.

And Ending Five leads us to ending with... A delusion. There’s the crux of the matter.

Ending One is our delusion that we can game the system by not getting involved.

Ending Two is Stefan’s (and our) delusion that if we play by the nicest choices and rules of life, it’s all going to turn out happily.

Ending Three is Stefan’s delusion (spurred on by the acid? by Colin’s way of thinking? by both?) that if infinite worlds are out there and free will is an illusion then what does it matter if he jumps?

Ending Four is where Stefan becomes delusional as a result of us and ends up locked up. We are the delusion. Four-B is where Stefan himself, as a person, is the delusion.

Ending Five is either the delusion of a man who relived his trauma too deeply or the delusion of us in thinking that when the paths were all clear and we had what seemed like a final end, that it would be happy. (Or none of the above, if you really want to go analysing this one differently.)

And Ending Six is our delusion. “And now, they’ve only got the illusion of free will but really, I decide the ending.”

In a few short seconds, we realise that we have been the Stefan of Charlie Brooker and co. - being led towards this ending that is out of our hands now. Despite all the paths and other endings you take, you’re likely to end up back here.

And as Stefan says about how he thinks Bandersnatch led to a happy ending, and we see him in his room, with his computer - and walls covered in paths; trying to make sense of the maze he’s playing... well, I think you can piece together the parallels between him and us.

And then we’re landed with the fact that he’s kept his dad’s head. And the 5/5 review we’ve been looking for all game finally comes, but then it turns out even that comes at a price. We’ve driven Stefan insane, certainly - and we’ve tainted the happiness of a moment we were striving for. And there’s a final delusion for us - the delusion that whatever choices were out there for us to make, we could get an ending where everyone lives, Stefan is happy, the game gets 5/5 and all is well. But we can’t. No matter what Stefan does, he can’t divert from the path we choose and no matter what we do, we can’t divert from the path Charlie Brooker chose.

Colin’s daughter takes up the mantle of her father, inspired by having found Stefan’s work, just as Stefan was inspired by having found Jerome F Davies’. (She even has Jerome’s book as well!) And one more time, we fall into the meta hole as it’s revealed that she’s creating her game for TVs and smart devices under Netflix. Her game is the Bandersnatch we’re playing.

As a parting shot, Charlie Brooker brings himself into the web the one we can without completely shattering what remains of the fourth wall. Pearl represents him, trapped in the same madness, trying to put this game together. We are given our final choice - and either way, it’s a moot choice. Both destroy Bandersnatch. Both cause the screen to cut out - did we just erase Bandersnatch? Does it matter, given that our choice or even abstaining meant nothing in the end?

And I suppose you have to feel sympathy for Charlie Brooker, because the pain Stefan felt and the pain we felt - he’s no stranger to it.

And we’re left with one question now that the game is gone: What about real life?

Chapter 2: Why A Flowchart Won’t Ever Cut It (Technically)

TO BE ADDED SOON

Chapter 3: So Many Easter Eggs

TO BE ADDED SOON

Chapter 4: The Best Way To Document Every Piece Of Bandersnatch

TO BE ADDED SOON

Chapter 5: Us

TO BE ADDED SOON

#blackmirror #bandersnatch #stefan #charlie brooker #black mirror

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kirawritesaboutevanstan · 6 years

Text

Fever haze

A/N: First of all, thanks for over 100 followers. That’s crazy. Yall are sweethearts. xx

Second of all, I wrote this in a fever haze myself haha. I'm currently sick, and I had this idea, well, someone gave me the inspiration a while ago (thanks btw x but my fever ridden brain created this. Apparently, when I have a high fever, this is where it goes. I kind of don't remember writing this, so that’s cool. Enjoy?

Warnings: nothing. Just tears and fluff. Most likely too many commas and bad grammar

Summary: Beautiful boyfriends and fevers don't mix well.

Word count: 1,300.

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

Want to read my new series? Here’s the link.

Interested in reading more of my stories? Well you can find them right here

TAGLIST IS OPEN for both my permanent and my series. Currently, those are the only taglists I have. Contact me either by an ask or message specifying which one you prefer x

the gif isn't mine and the only reason its there because he looks adorable and is all smiling.

You wake up with a pounding headache. Your eyes aren't even open yet, and you can already feel the light hurting your eyeballs. It feels like someone has set fire to your eye sockets and is simultaneously pounding you on the head with thors hammer.

You turn onto your back groaning at the feeling in your head. You swallow some excess spit and wince as the action made your throat burn as if you had been drinking acid like it was water. Not to mention the completely blocked nose, breathing was not an easy task currently. Your whole body ached, and your skin felt like it was on fire. You were sick, completely and utterly sick. Sighing deeply you pry your eyes open and hiss from the pain. The light is blinding, and it hurts so damn bad.

You hear movement next to you, and you freeze for a moment. Turning your head, you see your very hot boyfriend, Chris, lying next to you sleeping peacefully. You had completely forgotten that he came over yesterday after you called him and had to cancel your weekend getaway. He had planned this whole romantic weekend, but because of your damn body being sick, you had to cancel. He took it very well and insisted on being with you and taking care of you.

He looked so soft and innocent that you felt powerless to do anything but to stare. He is sleeping on his stomach. His head turned to you, his cheek being squished a little by the pillow. His arm is tugged in underneath his chin, the other stretched out over his head hugging the pillow. His eyes are closed revealing his long ass eyelashes, his eyebrows are gently scrunched together in a little frown and his lips a little pouty. He looks so adorable with the little frown on that pretty face of his.

You feel something wet on your cheeks, and you frown in confusion as you reach up to touch it. Your fingers catch a few drops, and you wonder where they came from.

Then you realize that you were crying. Confusion and amazement fill your mind, why on earth are you crying and how did you not notice? You must really be sick.

You sniffle loud and wipe away a few more tears as you stare at him again. As you take him in, the tears are now streaming down your cheeks. A single sob escapes your mouth before you can stop it as you focused on his arm. It's just so perfectly shaped, the perfect balance of long and slender but also thick and muscular. So strong and yet so gentle.

Chris’s eyes open, being woken up by your sob and stares back at you. He blinks a few times until he notices your pained expression and the tears that are flowing freely. He sits up instantly, his face grimaced with worry.

“Oh hey, sweetheart, whats happening? Why are you crying? What happened?” He panics and stroke your cheeks wiping away the tears before they are replaced by fresh ones. You start sobbing for real this time, and he pulls you into his lap, rubbing your back soothingly as he rocks you from side to side. You are sitting like a little child in his arms, your bum resting in his lap legs curled in slightly underneath his arm. Your side is pushed into his naked and warm chest as he gently coos at you, trying to calm you down from whatever has made you cry.

After a few minutes of sobbing and him just rocking you. You finally calm down, your migraine being 10 times worse now though. He looks down at you, and you look up at him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks gently, not wanting to set you off again, but also kind of worried about what had made you cry so hard. You don't respond being way too embarrassed because of your sudden outburst.

"Sweetheart, please tell me why you are crying. It's killing me" He pleads, as his hand rubs circles on your back. Before you can stop yourself, in your fever haze you blurt out “Because of you.”

His face changes into confusion and even more worry. “Me?” You nod silently.

“Why, and also how, did I make you cry? I was sleeping, did I say something? Because if I did, I didn't mean it.” He rambles on panicking a little.

“You didn't say anything. You just …” You look up at his face, and you feel the tears well up again. His eyebrows are scrunched together, creating a crease between them. Those gorgeous blue eyes have a worried look in them, but the blue is so bright that you feel a little lightheaded, although that might be from the fever, looking into them. As if you were looking into a perfect crystal blue lake. His hair is ruffled and messy but somehow looks incredibly sexy. His lips are so pink and a little dry, but they are plump, and you know how soft they are. His face is just so beautiful that you start sobbing again.

“You are ... just too b-beautiful,” You say in between sobs and you lean into his chest. Just sobbing and sniffling into his skin.

“Are you crying because you think I'm beautiful?” he asks, his voice filled with amusement and amazement. You just nod into his chest, and he burst out laughing. His head falls back, his hand grabbing your shoulder as if he needs an anchor to keep him on earth. His chest shakes with the uncontrollable laughter, and you frown into his chest. As he shakes your whole body with his laughter, it sends waves of pain through your head.

“Chriiis,” you whine, and he tries to stop his laughter. “I'm sorry, sweetheart, but that is just too funny.” he apologizes but his voice still laced with amusement.

You scowl at him and pushes yourself out of his grip. "S' not funny" You mumble as you try to get out of the bed but falls over and grunts from the impact of the mattress. You sit up and look around at the spinning room.

"Sweetheart, come back. I'm sorry I laughed." He reaches for you, but you try to evade his strong arms, again falling on your butt instead. He chuckles as your clumsy attempts and moves closer. His strong arms grab you and lift you into his chest, he gently places you on your side of the bed.

"Here you go, lay down you are sick and have a fever. Get some rest" Chris orders you but you roll your eyes - bad idea - you groan at the pain.

"Cuddle me" You demand and Chris laughs at you but obliges. He lies down next to you, pulling you into his side. You wrap your whole body around him the best you can. Snuggling into him and inhaling his natural scent.

"I can't believe you cried because you think I'm beautiful. That is funny and very adorable." Chris mumbles after a few minutes of silence.

"It's not funny."

"Come on, it's kind of funny."

"Nope"

"Not even a little bit? You were sobbing, sweetheart, because you think I'm too beautiful, come on. That's funny. And perhaps a little worrying." Chris frowns. "How sick are you? I mean, do I need to take you to a doctor?"

"No doctor. Just cuddles." You mutter into his pecs. He is about to protest when you interrupt him. "Chris I'm fine. I'm just sick, I don't know why I started sobbing. I might just have a fever haze. It's embarrassing." You snuggle in further, and he tightens his grip. "Just cuddle me. That's all I want."

"All right. Cuddles it is." Chris settles in further into the mattress and just holds onto you as you try to sleep off your fever.

Fin x

Hope you liked it! Don’t be shy to give me feedback, even if its constructive criticism, that is welcome too! If you do provide any kind of feedback, I will love you forever and also die for you x

Taglist IS OPEN, just send me an ask or message specifying what you want to be tagged in. Whether it's permanent, my Sebastian Stan ones or my Chris Evans imagines.

Permanent Taglist: @bibegone @holland-stan-posts

#Chris Evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans fluff #chris evans fanfiction

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swanandapirate · 7 years

Text

anonymous swan (1/1)

It was @captainwiley’s birthday a couple of days ago and to celebrate the joyful day the world gained such a wonderful and crazy person, I’ve written a fic. This is inspired by how @captainwiley and @artandteaandstuff got introduced to each other but with our lovely ship instead (the road is a bit bumpier because have you met Emma and Killian?) ♥

summary: A Google Docs AU where Emma and Killian both get asked to beta-read something of David’s and start anonymously bickering about every conceivable grammatical and lexical and any other feature of the English language in the Google Docs Comment section but what happens after David decides to intervene?

Ohhh intrigueeee.

rating: T for some swearing

~10,000 words

ff.net / ao3

Major love to @ofshipsandswans for listening to me ramble ♥

(Let’s pretend that once Docs assigns you an animal it stays the same. Sorry for the mistakes, btw. Selina is not only amazing but also my beta)

She sat sunken in the soft leather couch, tucked in a corner with a blanket hiding everything from the neck down. Soft music sounded through the room, drifting to every nook chasing away the quiet, the eerie feeling that occasionally lingered in an empty apartment. Emma placed her palm on her face, fingers sliding into her hair as she tiredly rubbed her eyes. It wasn’t even nine yet, school hadn’t been particularly demanding as her early morning class got canceled and she got to sleep in, and still, exhaustion seemed to follow her every move and step. It didn’t help that the days were getting shorter, daylight becoming scarcer, any sign of warmth vanishing into clouds of air.

As tempting as it might be, she wasn’t going to go to bed at nine pm on a Friday. She just couldn’t. That was not an option. She was twenty-one, not seventy-one, for crying out loud. Though she did fit the description with her warm blanket, mug of hot chocolate with a dash of cinnamon, and an episode of that soap opera her best friend and roomie Mary Margaret insisted on recording and that Emma secretly watched when she was alone in their apartment.

Mary Margaret was out on a date with Emma’s brother David, who basically had become a second roommate to Emma. She didn’t mind, however. She loved her brother dearly, ever since they met in middle school, they’d been two peas in a pod and after David’s mom—their mom— decided to adopt Emma, their bond only became stronger. Mary Margaret was thrown into the mix when Emma befriended her in high school and when she introduced them, it was—according to her brother and Mary Margaret, Emma was more skeptical about it all— love at first sight.

It was best that she stayed up until they returned. Emma knew Mary Margaret: dimmed lights and a shut bedroom door would lead to a discussion because she was concerned about Emma’s welfare and social life and so on. And if there was anything Emma could live without, it was the concerned mom speech. She already got her fair share of those from her actual mom, she didn’t need them from her sister-in-law as well.

The lock of the door clicked as the key was turned and Emma hastily grabbed the remote control to stop the episode. She threw the blanket off her and grabbed one of her books. When David and Mary Margaret walked in, slightly giggly and drunk on some expensive Italian wine, she seemed less the spitting image of a socially deprived person and more of that of an intellectual seeking diversion. Not that they would notice anyway, so focused on each other.

“Hey Ems,” her brother greeted her, wide smile on his face.

Oh, he was drunk. He absolutely never called her Ems.

“Hi, David.” Emma looked up, trying to keep herself from laughing. “Wow, it seemed like you two had a great night.”

“We did,” Mary Margaret replied. “Your brother is such a gentleman, Emma. He makes me swoon.” The way Mary Margaret stretched out the word made Emma cave, her laugh filling the apartment.

“Good that he does, Mary Margaret.” She put the book back down, wiping a tear caused by her moment of amusement away, before contently sighing. “Well, I am pretty tired so I’m going to turn in. Night, guys.”

“Night, Emma. We love you,” they said in sync. The alcohol clearly did not blur their supposed true love bond.

Emma snickered. “Love you too, lovebirds.”

The last thing she saw before she closed the door was her brother caressing Mary Margaret’s face while they lovingly gazed at each other and the last thing Emma thought before falling asleep was how she yearned for that kind of love as well.

-/-

“Morning,” David groaned as he emerged from his and Mary Margaret’s room, shutting the door quietly, most likely to grant his girlfriend a few additional moments of sleep.

Emma sipped her coffee with an amused smile while jumping off the stool next to their breakfast counter and grabbing an extra mug to provide David with a necessary kick of energy.

“Morning to you, too. How’s the hangover?”

David flashed her a grateful smile as he accepted Emma’s kind gesture and wrapped his hands around the warm mug.

“Bearable, actually. Mary Margaret forced me to chug something that seemed like a gallon of water so I’m sure that, once I properly wake up, I’ll be as fit as a fiddle again.”

“Good.” She wriggled back onto the chair and continued to munch on the Pop Tart she had chosen as breakfast. “I wasn’t looking forward to spending my Saturday with two grumpy zombies.”

Emma could see the effects of the coffee on David as his gaze became more open, more attentive and as the corners of his lips subtly began to rise.

“How is my lovely sister doing this morning, by the way,” he inquired after a moment, his cup almost empty already.

Narrowing her eyes, Emma took a sip again, watching David over the rim of her mug and trying to figure out why it suddenly seemed as if he was attempting to coax her into doing something she would not like. She knew that tone, had heard it far too often over the years.

After clearing her mouth, she decided to go for the direct approach. It was far too early to beat around the bush. “What do you want and/or need?” She asked, eyebrows shooting upwards.

“You remember that dissertation I’m writing to get my degree?”

She did remember what he was talking about since he had been fretting over the ten-thousand-word paper for months now and the deadline kept on creeping closer. It was important to her brother, if he got his criminology major, the chances of him getting hired as a police officer—a lifelong dream of his— would increase considerably. So, she had endured every freak out session and every lecture about the exact subject he had chosen because that was what siblings did. Once the time came for Emma to write hers, in social studies this time, she knew David would do the same for her.

“Yeah, it’s difficult to forget.” Emma nodded. “But what does that have to do with me?”

She stood up to clear her plate, halting by the trash can to clear some of the remaining crumbs and depositing it in the sink. Turning on her heel, she faced her brother again.

“I need you to work your magic.” David had an apologetic look upon him as he shrugged, his police-themed PJ’s moving along.

“Which is?” She encouraged him to be more specific, to tell her exactly what she needed to do to help him.

“Read it over, give me some feedback, correct the errors that are most definitely in there?” he spoke, his voice rising as if, besides the work he had written, he was now also second-guessing his request to her.

Emma didn’t consider herself a nitpicker, but she had an eye for details and an affinity towards the English language fed by countless stories read and countless tales originating from the depths of her mind. It was a mere hobby, nothing more than an escape when things got too much to handle and people became too demanding that had originated when she was still a foster kid. That did not change Emma’s devotion or attention to detail, however; if anything, it enhanced it.

She wasn’t a nitpicker but she was the kind of person that noticed when commas stood in the wrong place or when the author should have used whom. Numerous of David’s high school assignments had to pass Emma’s watchful gaze first before getting the green light to be handed in and Emma couldn’t understand why her brother was so hesitant about asking her help now. She loved to help him, time and time again.

“David,” she said, soft and reassuring. “Of course, I’ll do it, you’re my brother. I’ll happily correct whatever mistakes I find and give some constructive feedback.”

A joyful smile broke the surface of David’s worried expression. He approached, arms open to embrace her in a hug. Emma wanted to comment on how this was all a bit too much for a simple read-through but as she felt his hand cup the back of her head, she reconsidered, basking in the warm feeling and memories.

-/-

She had to search for the right moment to tackle David’s text. Late in the evening hardly ever worked because her mind was often too clouded with the information it was bombarded with throughout the day, her eyes too tired after staring at textbooks and screens for over six hours, and her fingers fast to make a mistake as they were slow to take commands after writing down seventeen pages of notes. Emma doubted either of those elements would ameliorate the text, if not even worsen.

About four days after David had asked her, Emma finally sat behind the small wooden desk in the corner of her room, opening her laptop and shoving the chair closer. She scoured their Messenger chat to find the link to a Google Docs he had sent her, Emma claiming it would be easier to comment and adjust things on there and David following her advice.

She drank from her mug of coffee, slightly burning her tongue and rubbing it to the edges of her teeth to get rid of the feeling. Softly humming along to her Spotify playlist, Emma saw the link transform into a site and the site slowly loading and supplying a so far six-thousand seven-hundred-word-essay. She could do this, this was what she did best.

As she began to read the introduction to get a general view of what criminological theory she most definitely would not understand the essay was about, she noticed something. Footprints. Steps of someone else who had taken the path she was about to embark on. The words flashed by as she rapidly scrolled down to see if the entire document had already been scrutinized by someone else. And indeed, it had. This “anonymous python” had consistently left feedback on what her brother had written, the blue boxes appearing every paragraph or so.

anonymous python: Effect is the noun, affect the verb

anonymous python: Maybe change this word to another one. You use it thrice in two sentences.

At the end of David’s every line, Emma’s eyes dashed to the margin to see what the other proofreader thought, if they had noticed the same things she had before adding her own. She considered every comment the anonymous python had made, nodding her head in agreement with the logical and just ones, and frowning while reading those that were pure nonsense. Before she knew, she was pressing the reply button to refute whatever claim this Python was making.

anonymous python: You should add a comma here, Dave. It will structure your sentence a bit more.

anonymous swan: Please ignore the anonymous python, David. A comma is useless here, put an em-dash instead.

After checking about a third of the document and losing herself in countering any- and everything that Python had said, Emma looked up at the arrows of her clock, awfully close to the time she was expected in class. In a rush, she locked her computer, chugged the remains of her coffee—a drop missing her mouth and running down her chin before her hand hastily wiped it away— stood up, snatched her bag from her bed and dashed away to her class.

She made it with one minute to spare.

-/-

The weariness engulfing her from head to toe, Emma collapsed on her bed, an unceremonious thud in her flannel sheets. The mattress needed to process the shock, the sudden additional weight and softly bobbed as a ship might’ve on the water. Her room hadn’t quite warmed up yet, so, to give her body the warmth it yearned for, she crawled under the covers. A sigh left her lips as she settled in her own little cocoon of warmth and peace. Not feeling up to do anything else, she was planning a nice evening of scrolling through every social media app known to mankind. Emma struggled to retrieve her phone out of her jeans’ pocket without letting the cold air hit her skin, wriggling around in her sheets and turning from left to right.

A small blinking light caught her attention and she paused the fight against her sheets and pocket. Her eyes turned into slits to be able to determine the source, which was her laptop, still standing on her desk. She forgot to turn it off, right. Just before she could take the decision to ignore it, to keep it like this until the next time she needed it, her brother’s voice appeared in her mind telling her that it was bad for her computer. He wasn’t even here right now and still, he was lecturing her. Grunting, Emma reluctantly lifted her sheets and let the shivers attack her body. Three steps were all it took to reach her desk. Her fingers hit the right combination of keys to unlock the device and she began the close all the tabs she had accumulated during her last browsing session. As she moved her mouse to the red box that would close David’s paper, a sentence caught her interest.

See new changes made by anonymous.

It certainly wasn’t David, or it would’ve said that he made the changes and she didn’t change anything since she last saved everything. It had to be them. The anonymous python. With a strange feeling, a mix of excitement and apprehension, swirling inside of her, Emma looked for the alterations that had been made while she was away.

anonymous python: Excuse me? I do have a degree in English literature, I think I know when a comma is necessary, thank you very much.

“Oh, we’re being snobby, are we?”

Emma snorted and rolled her eyes. So, Python was that kind of person. All indignant and offended when someone knew better and pointed out their mistakes. Also known as Emma’s least favorite kind of person.

anonymous swan: Well, they clearly failed to teach you the most basic of punctuation.

She was already sitting at her computer, reading the document, and the adrenaline had given her new energy, so she might as well continue to do so instead of mindlessly scrolling through social media and watching cat videos. That way she could claim to be productive even if she didn’t actually do anything for school.

Suddenly a blue box popped up on the top of her screen with the white depiction of a snake in it, signaling that the anonymous python had returned.

Shit.

In a surge of panic, Emma shut the page down. Eyes wide and heart beating way faster than it ought to, she stared at her desktop image, hoping that they hadn’t seen her. It was one thing to anonymously bruise someone’s ego, a whole other thing to be in the same online room at the same time with that person, both painfully aware of what had been said.

It was time for a food break—or at least, that was what Emma told herself. She went in search of something to eat and came across a little message from Mary Margaret.

Good evening, Emma. You probably forgot but my archery class is tonight so I won’t be home ‘till late and David is staying at his own place. There’s leftover spaghetti in the fridge for you to devour. Enjoy and see you tonight.

-MM

Times like these made Emma really appreciate her friend and her caring nature. Mary Margaret was sweet, so innocently and selflessly sweet. Emma had told Mary Margaret numerous times that she could also just send a text, seeing that it was indeed the twenty-first century but Mary Margaret persisted and unknowingly brought a smile to Emma’s face every time she found a yellow post-it stuck to the refrigerator, or their table, or her bedroom door.

Emma removed the spaghetti, placed it on a plate and stuck it into the microwave, drumming her fingers against the counter as she waited for her serving of warm food. The seconds ticked away before the machine made a releasing sound while announcing her food was ready.

Plate in hand, she returned to her room and, more importantly, her computer. Taking a deep breath and first a bite of the still too warm food, Emma unlocked her computer again, bracing herself for the response of her online…— of somebody.

Oddly enough, they hadn’t reacted to her obvious jab, so Emma felt her nerves settle, only to be replaced by raging fire as she saw what they had reacted on. Which was almost every comment of hers.

anonymous python: Wrong. Your formulation is even worse than Dave’s original one.

anonymous python: A semicolon? In this sentence? I think not.

Emma was fuming. The audacity of this person. She spent the next half hour alternating between arguing on every comment they made, proving why exactly she was right and angrily chewing on her food. Reading and beta-ing were what she was good at. She didn’t need some know-it-all pointing out all of her mistakes when they were, in fact, not. There was a reason David specifically asked for her help.

(She was ignoring the fact that David had clearly asked someone else as well.)

With more force than was necessary— and healthy for her computer— she shut her screen, in dire need of something to distract her, to lead her away from her place of absolute rage and vindication. It was Python’s right to comment on her remarks as she did the same on theirs but the big difference was that hers were correct and fair criticisms while theirs were just a whole load of crap set out to drive her up the wall.

How very childish.

Continuing to revise David’s paper wasn’t in the cards right now, so she left her desk and decided she’d watch some more of that soap opera. It was the perfect opportunity seeing that Mary Margaret wasn’t getting home until late. As the title track played, Emma chose to be the bigger person and to not get carried away in this feud that had somehow unleashed. She was a responsible and smart adult and was better than this.

-/-

“Son of a bitch,” Emma yelled, fingers typing at inhuman speed. “I’ll show you just how fucking American I am.”

-/-

Emma woke up to the jingling sound of a notification and groaned, burrowing her head deeper into her pillow. She’d created this rule for herself that once she woke up, she could not go back to sleep so as her hand sloppily hunted for her phone, she prayed to Zeus that the time would be some ungodly hour so she could go back to sleep.

Zeus disappointed her.

As he often did.

Tapping her code, Emma saw what had caused her phone to chime and take over the role of her alarm clock.

David Nolan created this group chat. You, David Nolan and Killian Jones are a part of it.

Why would her brother create a group chat when they already had one? And who was this Killian Jones?

It was most likely by accident, a butt-dial sort of incident, though Emma failed to see how it was possible to add two random people who had never interacted to a group. His butt must’ve been oddly specific. Mental images flashed by her closed eyelids, turning her expression into a grimace. Thinking about her brother’s butt was a very bad idea. She should probably stop and focus on the overall situation. David hadn’t sent any additional messages which almost confirmed Emma’s suspicion of it being an accident.

Emma Nolan: ?

Emma Nolan: What’s this?

The white bubble appeared instantaneously and Emma awaited what her brother had to say.

David Nolan: A request to the both of you to stop bickering in the comment section of my paper. Your like little children.

The two of them? Was this mysterious Killian Jones the anonymous python that plagued David’s essay? She reread the message to assure she wasn’t imagining things but that was the message that his text contained. And a mistake.

Killian Jones: Dave, *you’re

Emma Nolan: *you’re

They’d responded at the exact same time and his message was all the confirmation she required. Oh, he was it, alright. Python felt the insistent need to call David Dave on every other comment and it was yet another thing about him that annoyed her and here he–Killian Jones–was using the exact same nickname with the exact same casual air that made Emma roll her eyes every single time. Why did people feel the need to nickname someone else and then only use their nickname? Dave this, Dave that. Emma was quite frankly annoyed. Even more than she already was.

David Nolan: You got my point, so quit it.

David Nolan: Though I am eternally grateful to you both for doing this. Just stop bickering.

The moment Killian had seen the message, Emma could feel him staring at her, assessing her. Not in the creepy way of course, but he wasn’t replying, nor was she, neither of them willing to acknowledge each other now they knew who exactly was hiding behind those pseudonyms. It felt like an online stare down to see who would crack first.

Even though she wanted to be strong, to show this Killian Jones just how stubborn she could be, her brother was still online, awaiting an answer, and what he was asking her—them— was only fair. Emma sighed and typed out a short answer before pressing send.

Emma Nolan: Okay.

Killian Jones: Fine.

-/-

“ Mary Margaret?” Emma said, her right hand holding a wooden spoon as she stirred a pot filled with vegetables and made sure their dinner wouldn’t burn.

“Yes?” her friend answered, walking around their dinner table and stretching her arms to set the plate and glass she was holding on the other side.

“Do you know a Killian Jones?” Her eyes focused on the orange of the carrots and the green of the broccoli.

“Why?”

Because he was incredibly annoying and a smartass and because Emma had discovered that he was also breathtakingly gorgeous after clicking on his Facebook profile. But she still hated him, let that be clear.

Mary Margaret inspected her work, quickly checking off a list of things they would need for dinner and when she concluded everything was present, she rearranged her dark pixie cut and looked up to Emma, who avoided her gaze and went on with stirring with the utmost concentration.

“Doesn’t matter, just answer the question, please,” she muttered.

There was a silence but Emma didn’t dare to turn around to see what was taking Mary Margaret so long before answering. She was just about certain what kind of look Mary Margaret’s expression would bear.

“I know him,” Mary Margaret finally gave in. “He’s one of David’s good friends. Killian is very nice, slightly full of himself but he has a heart of gold.”

Even though Mary Margaret appeared to be convinced of her view on Killian Jones, Emma couldn’t accept it. Mary Margaret saw the good in everyone even when there wasn’t any good to be found. She would give a speech about how everyone was redeemable and that one only needed to hope, so her opinion wasn’t reliable.

“I think you’re depreciating how full he is of himself because he seems pretty egocentric to me.”

And even that was an understatement.

Emma lifted her eyebrow, having found her confidence again and finally facing her friend.

“Why are you asking me this if you’ve met him?” Mary Margaret’s fair skin creased as she frowned.

Extinguishing the fire, Emma removed the vegetables and placed them on the table, turning around to grab the other components of their dinner.

“We haven’t met in real life,” she explained, “We’ve only interacted via Google Docs.”

“And it did not go well?” Mary Margaret assumed correctly.

Thinking back to what had been said, she shook her head, blonde locks slightly swaying along. “Not well” was an understatement too.

“To summarize: we fought incessantly and David made us promise we would call a truce.”

They both settled in their opposite chairs, Emma serving herself and getting ready to eat until she noticed that Mary Margaret hadn’t taken any food yet and was instead staring at her with a confused look.

“I can’t say that this doesn’t surprise me,” she spoke, drawing her eyebrows together anew. “I always thought you two would hit it off. Maybe you should you get to know each other a bit better, you do have some things in common.”

Getting to know him better was just about the last thing Emma wanted to do. It could only end up being a disaster.

“Well, it’s never going to happen. I hate Killian Jones.”

She visibly ended the discussion by taking a large bite of her food, overacting the whole thing to make her message clears but that didn’t stop Mary Margaret from making one last comment that did absolutely nothing to reassure her.

“If you say so, Emma.”

-/-

anonymous python: For goodness’ sake, Swan, he used the wrong tense here. How did you not see that?

anonymous swan: It’s creative license, Jones. It can work. Also, we’re not supposed to bicker and it’s Emma.

anonymous python: We aren’t bickering if you just agree that creative license in a dissertation is bollocks, Swan.

anonymous swan: EMMA. And no can do, sir. I suppose we are bickering.

-/-

anonymous swan: Jones, I am begging you. Please stop changing everything to British spelling. We’re in America. Adjust.

anonymous python: Normally I prefer to do more enjoyable activities with a woman begging me, but you’ve left me no choice. Care to show me?

David Nolan: Jones, stop hitting on my sister. And what did I tell you about bickering?

anonymous python: We’re just having a bit of fun, David.

David Nolan: Then have fun somewhere else than my dissertation.

anonymous python: You heard him, Swan. Let’s have fun somewhere else. Drinks on me tonight, The Merry Men, 9 pm.

David Nolan: No, you’re not doing that.

anonymous python: Don’t fret, Dave. You can join too.

-/-

She shouldn’t actually go, should she? He must’ve been joking, daring her to do something only to not show up to make fun of her. But why would he invite David as well? He wouldn’t do that to his friend, would he? Even though Emma did not hold him in any high regard, he did seem like a good friend to David. So, his proposal must’ve been genuine.

That didn’t help with sorting out her thoughts, it only gave her more questions, more doubts and fears. One thing, however, was blatantly clear.

Killian Jones confused her.

And not in a good way.

(Or so she told herself.)

-/-

The neon letters of the bar flickered against the inky night, a lighthouse in the dark to guide her ashore. She hadn’t figured out yet if it was a trap leading her to the cliffs or not.

Emma inhaled, the cold air almost painfully filling her lungs and shut her eyes. She hadn’t entered, hadn’t met him for real, hadn’t gotten drunk and she was already regretting this.

A decision had to be made. Either to enter or to go home. The internal debate with herself couldn’t last the entire evening or she would freeze. Wrapping her red leather jacket a bit tighter around herself, she shivered. Go inside or go home. There was a warm bar right in front of her and if she chose to go home, she would have to wait for a cab in the cold.

In the end, the prospect of feeling her fingers again won as Emma pushed the heavy wooden door and entered the bar. The heat warmed her skin and she knew she had made the right choice.

Her eyes roamed the room as she searched for her brother’s sandy colored hair, but to no avail.

“And here I thought you wouldn’t show.” Emma was startled by the voice suddenly appearing to her right. And by the accent. It didn’t make it difficult to guess who it belonged to despite the fact they had never spoken. She felt her heart speed up as she faced the source. “Swan.” He smirked, a cheeky and cocky thing that told Emma she had made the wrong choice. “Pleased to finally meet you.”

His hair was a chaos of black, his eyes a sea of blue. And if the dim bar light did not mislead her, his beard a haze of red. No amount of Facebook profile pictures could’ve prepared Emma for this.

“You know my name is Emma.” She stared at him with a raised eyebrow, the picture of not amused and unimpressed. Or so she hoped.

Jones laughed, a resonant thing, while pushing up the sleeves of his light blue shirt which totally did not make him ten times more attractive.

“I do, but I like Swan.” He shrugged. “It suits you.”

“And why is that?” she said, the suspicion coloring her voice.

Their eyes met and even though Emma wanted to look away, she couldn’t; the connection was too strong to sever. He didn’t move either, or blink, or answer the question she’d asked him.

“Feisty and beautiful.” was his reply after a minute or so. Perhaps it was more a couple of seconds. She had no idea. It was like the hard drive of her brain had been deleted and she’d forgotten how to do the most basic of things. Like breathing. Emma took a deep breath through her nose as she shook herself out of the trance. “I must say that your profile picture does not do you justice,” Jones continued.

Emma is surprised her eyes don’t roll out of her skull but the heat rises to her cheeks, nevertheless.

“Wow.” Emma scoffed. “It’s a good thing that you’re buying because I’m going to need a lot of alcohol to handle this.” Her hand drew a circle around his silhouette in the air.

“Say no more,” he smirked and led her to two empty bar chairs.

-/-

“Jane Austen? That’s your favorite author?” she almost shouted in disbelief. Emma had to stop herself from laughing. “Is it because you see yourself as a Mr. Knightley? I hate to break it to you, you’re not. At most a Mr. Elton.”

“I beg your pardon?” He looked genuinely affronted but Emma didn’t know if it was because she was mocking his choice of favorite author or because she was comparing him to one of the worst characters in Emma. “What’s wrong with Jane Austen, she quite frankly wrote terrific books. Who’s your favorite author, may I ask?” he challenged her.

It didn’t take Emma long to come up with a name.

“Hemingway,” she said before taking a swig from her bottle of beer and contently nodding as she thought about it again.

Jones tilted his head and quietly hummed as he considered her answer.

“Very good author,” he finally reacted and Emma was about to start beaming with pride when he continued to speak, “but definitely not worthy of the honor of being your favorite. You need to pick someone who deserves it, with whom you would love to be friends. I for one would love to be friends with Jane Austen. Hemingway… not so much.”

“What?” She tried to find some sign of ridicule or humor but found none. He was being completely honest. And she did not agree in the slightest. “That’s bullshit. I don’t need to like Hemingway as a person to like him as an author.”

“But who he is as a person is reflected in his books. Trust me, I have a degree in literature.”

“Ugh, this again,” she complained and rolled her eyes, a very common occurrence when she was in the company of Killian Jones, it would seem.

“It’s the truth. Oh no!” he suddenly shouted.

Emma almost fell off her bar stool, her hand flying up to her chest in shock and barely missing her bottle of beer on the counter. She looked around, eyes frantically searching for something amiss before they landed on Jones again who sat calmly on his stool, amusedly watching her.

“What?”

“We’re bickering, Swan,” he announced. “David would disapprove.”

Emma clenched her jaw in anger while she attempted to get her heartbeat back to normal.

“You just scared the shit out of me. Where is David by the way?

Jones raised his shoulders, showing that he did not know either what was keeping her brother. Bent on finding out why he hadn’t shown up in the last hour, she fished her phone out of pocket and dialed David’s number. The bar and the area surrounding it kept on getting busier, so as the dial tone rung in Emma’s ears, she left Jones there and went in search of a place where she would be able to hear what David’s most likely lame excuse for running late would be. The continuous ring stopped with a rustle, telling her he had finally picked up.

“Hello?” he said.

“Hey, it’s me. Where are you?” She settled against a brick wall in some hallway not frequented by other people.

“Um.” Emma narrowed her eyes as David struggled to get a uniform answer out. This was suspicious. “I can’t make it.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, sorry, Emma. I have to go.”

And abruptly she was met with the end of the call and silence. Nothing in that call seemed like her brother. The last-minute cancelling—could you even call it that if he was supposed to be here an hour ago— the general vagueness, the abrupt end of the call. Odd. Very odd.

Thinking about it had her frowning as she walked back to the spots Jones and she occupied earlier and that he was still protecting against predators

“Is everything okay?” His eyes showed concern for her.

“Yeah,” Emma reassured him, smiling to get rid of the scowl on her face. “David is not coming.”

Grabbing her deserted bottle of probably lukewarm beer, Emma climbed back onto the stool.

“I don’t really mind if I’m being honest. I’m quite enjoying myself with the present company.”

Were they sitting closer than before? They must be. Emma wasn’t able to discern his distinctive smell before, nor could she see the small scar on his right cheek or how long his eyelashes were. It almost managed to take her breath away.

“I should probably go home,” she whispered.

“Come on, Swan, don’t let a man drink alone.” She felt his gaze trace her face as he pleaded with her, both verbally and physically.

They stared at one another again and for a split second, Emma was certain they were going to kiss. He was going to lean in or she was and their lips would meet and she’d be kissing Killian Jones. The other people around them would disappear as they focused on each other and how their tongues would interact and time would stop as they pulled and pushed, fighting for control and the upper hand. She would moan, he would groan, the feeling so satisfying and it would definitely be mind-blowing. She would instantly regret it.

“I have to go,” she said weakly. “I have an early class tomorrow.”

It was a shit excuse and they both knew it.

-/-

“So?” A chirpy voice behind Emma spoke. At this hour, there was only one person in this apartment that scattered chirpiness: Mary Margaret. “How was your date with Killian?”

How she reminded Emma of how her mom behaved when she went on her first date. Way too nosy and excited about the whole ordeal.

“It wasn’t a date,” Emma reminded her friend. “David was supposed to show up too but he bailed on me.”

Which still confused her. Her brother, who had gone to great lengths to avoid that Jones spent time with her, was suddenly okay with leaving them alone at night, with alcohol involved? It seemed awfully out of character for David. He considered himself her savior, the big brother that had to keep all harm away from his little sister. Killian Jones was far from being harmless and David was aware of that.

“I know.”

“You know?” Emma turned her head, suspiciously eyeing her sister-in-law. If there was one person that could make David not act like himself…

“I might be the reason why?” Mary Margaret grimaced and confirmed Emma’s suspicion.

What the hell?

“Mary Margaret!” came out as a shout. Emma didn’t even try to hide her displeasure.

Of course, she meddled. After her comment from before about how she thought they should get to know each other, Emma could not be surprised that she made sure that they did. She couldn’t be surprised but she could be disgruntled.

“Sorry.” Her hands went up as a defense mechanism. She didn’t seem sorry at all, making it all so much worse. “But, how was it?”

Emma let her change the subject because deep down she’d been wanting to discuss it with someone. She hadn’t rightly figured out what exactly it was she wanted to discuss but she knew she needed to verbalize it, even if it was only an attempt to. Killian Jones did things to her, things she couldn’t wrap her mind around, things that were all over the place as if they swung from left to right, from one opposite to the other and she was stuck watching it all take place.

“He’s … urgh.” It was both a sigh and a grunt at the same time and the best thing she could think of to describe her evening.

“Emma Nolan at loss for words, I didn’t think I would live to see this day.

“I’m not at loss for words I can give you a million words to describe Killian Jones. Aggravating for instance. What else?” She bit her lip in thought, trying to prove she hadn’t lost any of her magic powers. “Oh!” She raised her finger a bit too excitedly as another word came to mind. “He’s also pedantic, conceited and most of the time very…”

“Distracting?” Mary Margaret prompted with a look of compassion.

Emma let her shoulders sag, her whole body following as she dropped herself on their couch. It took a lot of energy to pretend. “Very,” she faintly admitted, hair strewn across the leather and eyes glued to the ceiling.

She felt her legs being lifted as Mary Margaret made room for her to sit on the couch too.

“Emma, there is nothing wrong with asking him to hang out again,” she assured her, a squeeze following meant to emphasize her words but Emma shook her head disagreeing. Mary Margaret couldn’t know that for certain, she lived in this brightly colored fairytale world where everything went great and everyone was happy and got their Happily Ever After. Emma didn’t believe in all of that. This thing with Jones wouldn’t lead to that if they—she— acted on it. She didn’t know where it would lead her and that was why she wouldn’t dare to take the plunge. Staying safely ashore was far safer than risking to drown.

“And grant him the opportunity to gloat at every given moment?” She sat back up, trying to shake off the conflicting feeling and immersing herself back into her earlier mindset. The mindset from when Jones was just still anonymous python and she couldn’t stand the sight of him. Maybe Mary Margaret would believe the act she was putting on. “No, thank you. I need to stay as far away from Killian Jones as possible.”

-/-

“Swan?” Emma froze, her hand still reaching out for the box of hot chocolate mix and her eyes shutting as she winced while hearing the nickname only one person in the whole world called her. Just her luck that that one person was also the one she was avoiding with might and main. But apparently, she couldn’t even go to the supermarket in peace. Maybe if she didn’t move, continued to stand there with her hand in the air, he wouldn’t approach her? Perhaps he would just walk by with an acknowledging nod and she would go about her day without having to face Killian Jones after she very obviously stood him up two weeks ago. Who was she kidding, the universe wasn’t kind enough to grant her that gesture. “What a lovely coincidence.”

Taking a breath, she turned around, a neutral expression on her features instead of the alarmed one they bore.

“Jones,” she curtly addressed him.

He was wearing a dark burgundy sweater, a pair of dark jeans and a warm coat over it to protect him from the outside temperatures; his hair was still a controlled mess and his cheeks slightly rosy due to the cold but what caught Emma’s attention the most was the smile that did not waver from his face.

“I’m happy I’m running into you.”

Emma had noticed that. She needed to be strong, however, to not get distracted by the way his eyes crinkled.

“Why exactly is that?” Her brow skeptically furrowed.

He moved his shopping basket to his left arm to take a step closer to her. Her body wanted to back away but the rack with hot chocolate mixes was in the way. The distance between them had declined so much that, because of their height difference, Emma was now forced to look up to look him in the eye.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something but I didn’t want to do it via Messenger.”

There was a foreboding silence as they watched each other. He wouldn’t dare. She had just gone through two weeks of agony and he wasn’t about to reset her whole process by saying what she thought he was going to say. He couldn’t.

“I wrote an essay for an academic publication-” Emma felt her chest deflate as she let the air out of her lungs in relief. He wasn’t. She mentally thanked Zeus. “-and I was wondering if you could take a look at it?”

“Take a look?” Emma repeated harshly. “Why?” She didn’t give him any time to reply and answered her own question, “To boost your ego? You know what, I think I’m gonna pass. Hey, I have an idea. Maybe you should ask one of your flings, I’m certain they’d love to have the scoop of reading the essay of the prodigal Killian Jones.” To finish her statement, she added a sly smirk— though it was more of a sneer.

They bantered and jabbed, all with the same air of sarcasm and mockery, this was what they did. But why did he appear so defeated, then? So sad? He wasn’t supposed to; he was to supposed to counter with his equally clever remark, another battle in their never-ending war.

“Emma, please, would you read it,” he begged. It wasn’t the way he said it but what that caught her off guard. He’d never called her Emma before. Never, not even once. He purposely and stubbornly refused to. So, this was dead serious. “I’m begging you. I’ll do anything in return. I just need a second set of eyes.”

The desperation drenched his words and Emma could feel her resolution of staying detached fall apart, piece by piece.

“Okay,” she said, before thinking about what she was doing. Her heart clenched at the sight of his distressing disposition and wanted to banish it once and for all. She was pretty sure it would do everything in its power never to see that look again. “You can send me the file. I have to go now but I’ll take a look tonight.”

“Thank you so much, Swan.” He managed to smile a small smile. “You’ve earned my eternal gratitude.

She had no idea what to with that.

Not even five minutes later, her phone chirped.

Killian Jones has sent you a friendship request.

Sighing, Emma clicked accept. It was just a Facebook friendship, she was aware, but still, it was more. She’d agreed to help like a friend would. They suddenly became friends instead of fluctuating in the grey zone of enemies-but-not-really. It felt weird to enter this new territory. To have Killian Jones as a friend while she spent so much time being annoyed by him and far too much time with him residing in the back of her mind.

Killian Jones: Thanks again for doing this, Swan.

Emma Nolan: No problem. So, what do you want me to do precisely? Spelling, grammar, anything else?

Killian Jones: Well, spelling and grammar should be on point, but it can’t hurt to double check. It’s mainly the message, however. Do you get what I’m saying? Am I not repeating myself? Is there a clear structure? etc. I’ve read it so many times now that I’m second guessing every word and phrasing.

Emma Nolan: I can do that. I’ll read it as soon as I can.

Killian Jones: Be kind, Swan.

Emma Nolan: Eh. I’ll see how good this is before making any promises.

-/-

It wasn’t just good, it was incredible. Written with passion and intelligence. He incorporated humor in an academic essay and managed to get away with it. He drew her in from the very first sentence and kept her attention for the whole thirteen pages, the speed with which she was reading only increasing so she could see what else he had written. Fuck, he was talented. And she now had to admit it to him.

anonymous swan: I would add em-dashes here just to clarify the structure of your sentence.

anonymous swan: Good metaphor, I’d go even further with it. Compare more to it, the reader won’t mind one bit

anonymous swan: I thought you said creative license in academic essays was “bollocks”? Someone isn’t being consistent.

Killian Jones: I was expecting you to be more critical

Emma Nolan: So was I, but there was nothing to be critical about. It was really good, surprisingly enough.

Killian Jones: You think so?

Emma Nolan: I do. Well done, Jones.

-/-

Killian Jones: Swan! Guess what!

Emma Nolan: What?

Killian Jones: Because of my essay, I got nominated for the Newcomer of the Year award!!

Emma Nolan: Wow, Impressive! Congratulations!

Killian Jones: Thank you! Apparently, they attempted to reach out to me as soon as it got published, but they got my contact information wrong. The award ceremony is tonight and I thought I’d ask you to come along as a thank you.

Emma Nolan: Jones, I’ve already told you that I did absolutely nothing, stop trying to thank me. Emma Nolan: Besides, fancy award ceremonies and I don’t mix. I’m going to skip. But have fun!

-/-

“Have you heard the news?”

Emma startled as her brother barged into her room without knocking, without so much as a word to warn her of his entrance. In confusion, she took out her earbud, the white pod still blasting her playlist of study music, and silently asked him what he was doing with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

“Have you heard?” he repeated, his voice insisting.

Slamming her book shut and pulling out her other earbud, aware of how she would not be able to do any studying when he was interrogating her in her room’s door opening, she turned to him, begrudgingly giving him her full and prompt attention.

“Heard what, David?” The annoyance was obvious in how she almost spit the words out.

“Killian’s essay got nominated for some prize.”

“I know. Good for him. I already congratulated him.” She failed to see why David had to kick down her door and announce it, interrupting her sacred reversion time. She was finally being productive.

“That’s all?” he asked, disappointed about something Emma couldn’t figure out.

What more could he want?

“Yeah,” she stretched out the word, watching him. “I was invited to come along but I passed. What else do you want me to say?

“Emma!” She was definitely missing something to understand this whole situation. “He asked you out and you said no!”

David provided her with the missing information, but she was wrong, it did not help whatsoever to understand.

“What? I said he didn’t need to thank me with some fancy dinner.” Her voice rose in pitch as she slowly began to comprehend what was going on and tried to defend herself. She was innocent.

“Knowing Killian, he took it as a rejection.”

“No, he didn’t,” Emma was convincing herself more than David at this point. “What are you talking about?”

David grabbed his phone, ceremoniously cleared his throat and started reading, “5:21 pm: “Mate, do you think it’s a good idea to ask your sister to join me? But like on an official date,”” he horrendously copied Jones’ typical lilt. “And then just now, 7:57 pm: “Dave, I don’t know what to do anymore. I’ve tried so many times, but I think she’s just not interested. I should give up. Anyways, I have to go. I have a ceremony to attend.””

Her brother was awaiting a reaction but Emma was right there with him, no idea how or what she should react. All she knew was that she didn’t want him to give up. So, all this time spent talking and bickering, that was him trying?

“What happened to him being this suave ladies’ man?”

“Do you really believe that’s who he is? Or even was?” His blue eyes were solemn as he questioned her opinion of his friend. She could see it there, the close bond the two of them had, the way David wanted to protect Killian. Perhaps the reason he never introduced Emma to him wasn’t because he wanted to protect her, but because he wanted to secure his best friend’s fragile heart.

“No,” she answered, head and eyes cast downwards in shame. “Okay, but what do you want me to do about it?”

The look he gave her didn’t leave a lot to the imagination and if it wasn’t quite clear yet, his arms crossing in front of his chest did tell her what he wanted her to do.

“When did you become such a fan of Jones and me together?”

His stern gaze and posture softened again as he thought of an answer which led Emma to think that the answer would be something she wasn’t ready for yet.

“Since I saw how much you’ve both changed since you met one another.” He stepped closer and went to sit on a corner of her desk. “Mary Margaret had to open my eyes but once seen, it could not be unseen. I didn’t completely realize how much you two were talking.”

“About your dissertation,” Emma clarified.

David looked down at her, not a trace of pressure or implication. Only a simple question with no underlying meaning; he was giving her the freedom to answer as she pleased. “Are you sure about that?”

They weren’t only talking about his dissertation. Every conversation might’ve started that way but they slowly but surely drifted to another topic, time and time again. She’d gotten to know a lot about him over the past few weeks she’d considered him a friend, and he about her, more than she cared to admit.

She shut her eyelids and shook her head. Once she reopened them, David sympathetically watched her. The hairs on her body stood upright with the realization that she wanted to try too. Finally, she had gotten ready to risk it, to give him a chance. But Killian told David he was done trying. Fuck.

“Now go.” David shook her out of her contemplation.

“What?” Emma replied in confusion.

“To the ceremony.” David grabbed her arms and helping her out of her chair. “You might still make it on time.”

She had only just come to the realization that she liked him and she already supposed to go and tell him? Oh no, she could not do that. Emma needed at least another couple of days or so to accept it all, and then visit him on her own terms, and then maybe bring up the topic. This was going way too fast.

“David, I can’t just barge in!”

What would it look like? Her swinging open the doors of a black and tie event in her sweatpants and oversized sweater, hair a mess—and not the good kind like Jones’— out of breath and sweating, disrupting some important person holding a speech and all eyes flying over to her just to say that she liked Killian Jones enough to want to date him. Emma’s worst nightmare, that was what it looked like.

“Yes, you can!” he disagreed, pushing her out of the room.

“Why are we yelling?” Mary Margaret appeared in the hallway and joined the conversation.

Before Emma could turn around and answer her question, placating Mary Margaret and downplaying everything to avoid her interference, David took the opportunity to recruit her onto his side.

“Emma is going to Killian’s ceremony to tell him she likes him.”

Waving her hands, she attempted to transfer the message that that wasn’t what they were doing. Everyone needed to calm the fuck down. David needed to stop pushing her, both physically and emotionally; Mary Margaret needed to stop looking at her with that sparkle of hope in her green eyes; and Emma needed the space to breathe and not freak out about everyone knowing she liked Jones.

“Oh my god!” Mary Margaret joined the yelling and simultaneously did so with Emma.

“No, I’m not!”

Her head was starting to hurt and to relieve the pain, Emma began to rub her temples with the tips of her fingers.

Mary Margaret came closer and tenderly placed her hands on both of Emma’s shoulders.

“Emma, you should,” she advised, bringing the yelling to an end with her soft voice. “It would be so very romantic.”

David came to stand right next to her, nodding and echoing what his girlfriend had said, yet again a reappearance of their trademarked true love bond.

“Why are you two like this?” Emma inquired as a last refusal, no idea what she was supposed to do right now. She could feel those two sets of eyes staring at her and pulling her over that line, convincing her, regardless how hard she might be against the idea.

“Emma.” She looked up at her brother and sister-in-law, who were standing awfully close to her in a tiny hallway. “Do you like Killian?”

“Yes.”

Mary Margaret smirked, an unsettling sight because she was not the type of person that smirked. Emma knew that it was decided. They were going.

“Then put on that pretty dress in your closet—you know that soft pink one— and go to the ceremony. I’ll drive.”

Emma supposed it was time to do some grand romantic gesture of her own. Ugh.

-/-

She slipped into the dark room, her dress swishing against her bare legs, and softly closed the door behind her. Scanning the room, she went in search of him and after some squinting, she could spot him in the front row. He looked an awful lot like the day she ran into him at the supermarket, nervous and afraid, with as only difference the suit he was wearing instead of his woolly sweater.

“To end our evening, we would like to announce our Newcomer of the Year,” the slightly balding man on the stage announced. Emma smiled, she had made it just in time. “The winner of this prize is a young, up-and-coming author. After recently having graduated in the studies of English Literature–”

And never shutting up about the fact that he did, Emma thought.

“–our laureate received acclaim for his dissertation and he managed to prove again with his recently written essay that this was all due to his talent and dedication. We are very pleased to announce that this year’s winner is Mr. Killian Jones.”

She clapped and whooped as she saw him walk towards the stage with a brilliant smile, pride swelling and spreading in her chest. He truly deserved this.

Killian reached the microphone and accepted the little statue, giving the host a handshake and looking at the bronze prize in awe.

“Thank you very much. I cannot properly express what it means to have your support. Writing and reading have been passions of mine ever since I was a young lad and to take this path was, therefore, a logical option I’ve not once regretted. Me standing here today would not be possible without my brother and mother who read countless stories until their voices went hoarse, without the amazing friends I have, and without the incredible people who read and gave feedback when the doubt grew too large and to whom I’m eternally grateful. So, thank you. I will treasure this moment forever.”

His speech was met with loud applause and Killian left the stage again, still shaking his head in disbelief. She was about to surprise him again. Waiting in a corner of the room until the mass of people wanting to congratulate him had dispersed and he was alone again, Emma left the shadows and walked over to Killian, who was admiring his prize yet again.

“I believe congratulations are in order. Newcomer of the Year, well done.”

Killian’s eyes left the trophy and moved to her, wide and blinking to see if this was real.

“Swan,” he breathed. “You’re here.”

She shrugged. “I decided that I might try one of these fancy award ceremonies.” Jones beamed as she leaned in. “I particularly liked your speech. Tell me, are there a lot of incredible people that read your text? Or was it just me?”

“Just you, Swan. You are more than enough.”

Fuck these stupid fancy award ceremonies for not being an appropriate place to attack him with her mouth.

Five Years Later

“Are you nervous?” she asked, running her hands through his dark locks, making them look just right. After taking a small step back and nodding approvingly, her hand slid down, settling on his cheek and caressing the soft skin there.

“Why would I be nervous?” His blue eyes looked up and betrayed that his confidence was all just an act.

Which Emma already knew, of course. She knew how he reacted to publishing his own work, to letting people he didn’t know and trust read the things he had worked on for weeks, months and even years sometimes.

“Because I know you and you’re publishing something that’s a bit bigger than just an essay in a magazine this time.” Emma’s eyebrows rose and Killian let out a sigh.

“Yeah,” he finally admitted, covering her hand with his own. “I’m bloody nervous.”

A smile crept on her face and she curled her free arm around his, pulling him closer to her to whisper a confession in his ear.

“I was waiting until you would say that.”

“Were you?” he questioned, tilting his head and lifting one expressive eyebrow.

Moving her head up and down, Emma confirmed. “So I could do this–” Her lips gently brushed his, an innocent thing, but it wasn’t about passion right now. It was about calming him and his nerves down and kissing her almost always seemed to have that effect. “– and tell you that your book is amazing and that everyone is going to love it. It’s the best thing you’ve ever written, Killian. And it can’t hurt that you had the world’s best beta-reader who also happens to be your lovely wife.” She winked, earning a laugh from Killian. “I’ve finally picked a favorite author that deserves it and that I love ” The words carried the memory of their very first date— first according to Killian, Emma wasn’t really convinced of that— and managed to eradicate the last remnants of stress inside of Killian as his hand stopped trembling and his eyes only contained love.

“You’re brilliant, you know that, right?” He cradled her cheeks before letting their foreheads touch.

“And you’ll do great, you know that, right?” she whispered back with closed eyes, reveling in the moment.

“I love you, Swan.”

She felt his lips on hers again and kissed back, the sensation still making her feel lightheaded as it had when they first kissed on the parking lot of the venue Killian had won his first award.

“Go knock them dead.”

He winked one final time at her before walking out on stage, a thunderous applause welcoming him, and Emma left the backstage to join the audience.

“Hello everyone, welcome and thank you for being at this reading,” Killian greeted his fans. “I’ll be reading the first couple of chapters and afterwards, you can get your copy signed if you’d like.”

The book on the stand was opened and Killian began to read.

“This book—and all of its em-dashes— is dedicated to the anonymous swan.”

A/N: This fic—and all of its em-dashes— is dedicated to the notorious nonnie

#cs ff #captain swan #cs au #cs crew #my words and sentences #notorious nonnie

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verningitup · 6 years

Text

“You’re not Filipina no?” -By Laverne Floris

Kamusta Everyone

So a lot of you have been asking me so many questions about my recent trip to the Philippines and I thought I’d write a lil something to give you a good summary on the whole trip. Please note that the exchange rate was R0.27 = 1 Philippine Piso.

Let’s take it back to the beginning. I met Kiddo and Sylvester in South Korea in 2017 at the World Barista Championships in Seoul. Team South Africa and Team Philippines hit it off so well that it made me want to visit my new friends in their awesome country.

A year later, I found myself getting on that plane, jetting off to the Philippines.

So the journey began at Cape Town International Airport and the commute was as follows:

Cape Town to Manila. Manila to Puerto Princesa. A 6 hour bus ride from Puerto Princesa to final destination El Nido. I travelled for 2 whole days and when I arrived at my accommodation, I just fell on my bed, laying on my stomach because my backside was so lame from all the SITTING!

I flew with Cathay Pacific airlines. The great thing with them is that they fly to Hong Kong and you can choose a really short layover (mine was 55 minutes) or you can choose a longer layover (around 13 hours) and explore the city of Hong Kong if you’re keen. I’ve done that before and it’s a great way to save on the ticket price and see another side of the world.

For domestic flights I used Air Asia. I found them to be the most affordable airline but they struggle with punctuality. Their insanely beautiful and friendly flight attendants make up for it haha. Also they play really cool music in the aircraft before and after the flight. Other airlines one can use fly domestically in the Philippines is Cebu Pacific and Philippines airlines.

https://www.airasia.com

https://www.cebupacificair.com/

https://www.philippineairlines.com/en

If you don’t feel like the bus commute and you just want to get to the island, I would suggest AirSwift for a quick and easy flight from Manila to El Nido. Here’s a link to their website.

https://air-swift.com/

El Nido, Palawan Island:

I spent 4 days in this incredibly breath taking island all by myself. I stayed at this lovely super authentic cottage in Corong Corong. It’s called Eco Sommer Cottage. I found them on Airbnb for R365 a night with breakfast included. The staff and their services were so accommodating, the only thing that sucked is there was absolutely no signal. Please note that El Nido is one of the most untouched islands out there hence the under developed infrastructure. Give that place 5 more years and it will be the next Bali. So much construction happening all over in terms of hotels and hospitality.

El Nido was voted most beautiful island in the world in 2016 and one can seriously believe that once you get off that plane. Even flying over El Nido was one of the most incredible things to witness. The crystal clear beaches makes you feel like you are swimming in salty warm heaven. Heads up, beaches in the Philippines are so much more salty than South Africa.

Tric or Tricycles are the ubers of the islands and the most common way to get around but I suggest renting a scooter, you get to see so much more of the island and the fresh air is amazing. To rent a scooter per day is P500/ R133 and you can get it at one of the many scooter hire shops or some accommodation places have scooters to rent right there.

Things I did in El Nido:

Solid beaching, there are hardly any rough waves and the water is so tranquil. For those craving a surf (like I always do haha), there’s a beach called Duli beach, about a 50 minute scooter drive from the main town. A long but incredibly beautiful drive.

· Free diving is pretty big in El Nido so if you’re wanting to explore the waters, free diving is your best bet.

· Boat trips. The most touristy thing in El Nido and one of the best. There are 4 main tours that runs every single day. I have inserted a link below and if you don’t manage to book online, don’t worry, there are so many boat tour businesses all over El Nido town. Lunch and snorkelling gear is provided on the boat which is very convenient because this boat trip last almost the whole day.

https://www.elnidoparadise.com/island-hopping/el-nido-tours/

· Amazing restaurants with amazing food, make sure to check out Las Cabañas / Meri Pegpeg beach / and all the restaurants on that stripe. Paddle boarding and zip lining is available there too.

Please note that I was only there for 4 days so I didn’t explore much but check out my pinterest board to links for those who want to stay longer.

https://za.pinterest.com/lavernefloris/philippines/

Back on a 6 hour van ride to Puerto Princesa, overnight there in a hotel and on a flight to Manila the next morning. This ride costs me P1000/R266 for a return ticket. There are vans waiting for tourists at the airport so it will be easy to find a ride. I’ve inserted a website to book your bus trips upfront.

https://biyaheroes.com/#!/

When I landed in Manila, another bus was waiting for me, luckily this trip was only about 4 hours long. Arrived at my hostel 22:30, put on hoop earrings and headed out to party haha. La Union has a big partying culture and everyone is invited. The town slows down on Sunday so it’s a balance of both.

San Juan, La Union Province

So this is where Kiddo and Sylvester reside. They own this really cool coffee spot called El Union (notice the play on words form L U). It’s located right on the beach in the restaurant hub called The Great northwest. It’s a hub filled with amazing restaurants, a barbershop, tattoo parlour and some bars. I spent most of my time chilling there during the day, hanging out with the locals and made friends for life.

There’s a stereotype that says that Filipino people are the friendliest out there and boy did they live up to that. The people were my highlight of the trip. They are so welcoming and they have this wonderful loyalty about them.

When I wasn’t drinking coffee, eating waffles or grilled cheese sandwiches (the best I’ve ever had btw), you would find me in the water at the different surf spots, Carielle and Taboc.

Another highlight of my trip was my accommodation in La Union. I stayed at this stunning and oh so aesthetically pleasing hostel called Vessel Hostel. It’s owned and designed by two architect surfers so you know that combination produces a great work of art. It costs P1200/ R324 a night and it is totally value for money. Breakfast included, the dopest music blasting through the speakers all day and it’s a great location, right across the bus stop to Manila and right in the middle of all the cool restaurants.

https://vesselhostel.com/

I extended my trip and had to find accommodation quickly. Luckily Flotsam Jetsam Hostel had available rooms. This is another great place to stay if Vessel Hostel is fully booked. A totally different look and feel but their breakfast is BOMB and you’re right in the party action if you don’t mind the noise. This grandma had to suck it up and sleep through it haha.

https://www.flotsamandjetsamhostel.com/

Things I did in La union:

· Surf. Tan. Surf. Repeat.

· Visited Tangadan Falls. We drove up all the way but one can take a tricycle or jeepney (the Fiilipino version of a taxi) and then hike to the waterfall.

· Party at Flotsam Jetsam hostel and the Shrine of Satisfaction.

There was so much more that I wanted to do, go visit a coffee farm up further up North and do more hiking trails but the water kept me busy and the people. Like I said, I made so many great connections and when I go back (yes I’m planning on going back) I will tick more things off my list. See link below for more things to do in that area.

https://twomonkeystravelgroup.com/awesome-things-to-do-in-la-union-philippines-aside-from-surfing/

Also here’s a really cool video about my friend Kiddo Cosio and his cool family. This video will have you thinking about your quality of life and how much you miss the beach haha.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HhRaDG-Qbzc

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RawevCuURkI

Food in the Philippines:

So I’m abit of a picky eater but I had no problem choosing meals in the Philippines. There’s tons of western restaurants and western dishes served. Rice is a major staple in the country and it is served with EVERYTHING! Bacon and eggs with rice? YEP! I didn’t try it but I’m sure it’s not that bad lol.

I had abit of the local dishes and my favourite was Beef Steak Taglog. Its like a beef stew with, you guessed it, rice. My favourite meal was the Korean beef bowl from Papa Bear in the Great Northwest hub of La union. Pulled beef short rib, kimchi, sous vide egg, bean sprouts over rice. So freaken good.

Filipinos love their pork so you find it all over the menu as well as their chicken. Unfortunately I didn’t have chance to try out the famous Jollybee and its chicken. Jollybee is HUGE in the Philippines. Even bigger than McDonalds so if you’re ever in PH, try it out. Oh and for all the fruit lovers like myself, unfortunately I didn’t come across so many fruits. Mango and banana is very common around there so that’s the fruit you see all over. Best mangoes I’ve ever tasted.

Okay so let’s talk about the weather since this conversation is almost done haha.

It is SUPER hot in the Philippines. Combine an average of 35 degrees Celsius and a nice 80% humidity and you will get a normal day. For a Cape Townian girl like me, the humidity gets to me sometimes but there’s ocean all around to cool off.

**Tip: best time to travel in to the Philippines is December to March. This is their “winter” and their dry season. They have a summer rainfall so the rainy season is June to October, which is not ideal for all the adventures.

I was so sad to leave La Union but Cape Town was calling me. Back to Manila city for me and luckily my flight was only late the afternoon so I got to spend the day exploring Manila. Makati, Poblacion area specifically. I arrived the evening so it was another booking into the hostel. By this time, I just wanted to commit to one bed but this really built up travelling endurance in me. I stayed at Z hostel. A very popular hostel in the heart of Makati. Makati is like every other city. Hipster coffee shops, fast food restaurants, businessmen all over, lots of shopping and TRAFFIC. Manila is known to be the world’s most dense city so this means traffic 24/7. I am not even joking. It was 01:30 in the morning and there was traffic. Manila also has one of the biggest malls in Asia called Mall of Asia so if you want to get your proper shopping on, this is this place to be. Manila is a very grimy city with so much poverty and forms of eradication all over so not a pretty sight when turning corners.

For all the coffee lovers, I had coffee at this really cool place called Commune and to my surprise, it was one of the best flat whites I’ve ever had. Manila also has a %Arabica café, unfortunately I just missed it but if you’re looking for great coffee Manila, that’s your place to be. I did some shopping exploring in the Greenbelt mall area which is a stunning area. To move around in Manila, you can use the Grab app. It’s their version of uber.

So the dying question, how much did this whole trip cost?

Well all in all this trip costs me roughly R20 000. This is including flights (R14 000) all accommodation (R4330), buses and scooters (R1000). This is excluding spending money and food. I use this amazing website for when I plan my budget for travelling its life changing. It compares the cost of living in different cities in the world.

https://www.numbeo.com/cost-of-living/comparison.jsp

A few FYI points:

· Most showers are only cold water.

· The mosquitos are silent so you don’t hear them biting during the night.

· Pack in a deep conditioner treatment for your hair, heat rash ointment and mosquito bite cream.

· Bring a refill bottle for drinking water.

· Definitely buy a waterproof beach pack bag when you get there.

· English is taught in schools so everyone speaks pretty decent English.

· YOU DON’T NEED A VISA FOR THE PHILIPPINES IF YOU HAVE A SOUTH AFRICAN PASSPORT :)

So how was it travelling alone?

To be honest, it was all and all amazing. I’m abit of a lone ranger so the solitude was good. Traveling alone is great because you don’t have to deal with different people’s moods, their pace of walking and their own itinerary. Being alone also forces you to speak to people, especially locals, and this leads to making friends. I ended up making friends with two German guys in my bus ride in El Nido, two cool girls from the Netherlands at my accommodation, one lovely lady from London and another two Dutch guys from my accommodation. Btw, you cannot escape the Dutch, wherever you travel

I was only technically alone for 4 days but even out of that 4 days I was hanging out with my two girlfriends from The Netherlands. One is only truly “alone” when commuting and flying in the plane.

I’ve told so many people that you’re never truly alone in the Philippines. The locals are so willing to connect with you that they’re just like “hey you got plans for tonight, let’s go for dinner”. I’m also a people’s person so that helped me a lot on this trip.

Another benefit of traveling alone is that it helps you reflect in such a big way. After the whirlwind of a year that I had. Recently single and in between changing careers, this solo trip was so needed in so many ways. You learn so much about yourself and you become your own anchor of strength. The first night I arrived in El Nido, I found myself so exhausted from the two day traveling that I just burst out crying and I was like “Omgosh, you did it and there’s a whole two week trip ahead of you”. Right there I pulled myself towards myself and started this amazing relationship with myself. You figure out your strengths and weaknesses in a whole new way. So I encourage everyone, everyone that suffers with crazy anxiety and everyone that’s extremely introverted, please do yourself and your soul a favour and try a solo trip abroad. It will be hard at times but the lessons learnt and the experienced gained is priceless.

Ps. please check out my instagram story highlights for more imagery and videos. @verningitup , for now, see pictures below :)

#travelpost #traveldiary #itsmorefuninthephilippines #eatpraylove

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