#bear wips

Tagged by @roguelioness and @ejunkiet (THANK YOU ☺️💛)

I have been messing around with this Stardew/FHR story because I only know how to write self-indulgent things.

The bulbs skitter to the ground. “Oh fiddlesticks!” Pacey says as she scrambles to her knees.

“Pace?”

She grasps the broken bulbs to her chest, completely caught off guard by his voice. “Ortega.”

Briefly, she catches his deep brown gaze and has to look away or she’ll be stifled by the aeration of feelings she’d assumed were long dead and buried.

“Shit, those broken? Let me get you some new ones.”

“No. No, it’s fine,” Pacey blocks his outstretched hand that ends up landing on her shoulder.

He smiles that stupid gorgeous smile of his, though she doesn’t like the look of that new mustache. Needs more or less just not a long singular tuft of fuzz above his lip.

“I can’t believe it’s really you,” he says quietly.

“Yeah well—“ She shrugs out from under his hand and stands.

“I take it you’re here to handle your grandma’s place?”

“Yeah,” she says.

“Well, then wait here while I get you a new set of bulbs and I’ll walk you back.”

“Ortega, really you don’t need to.”

“Pace, please. Let me just do this one nice thing?”

It’s a bad decision to say yes. He’ll want to talk and pry and she’s not ready for his interrogation. But he’s throwing all his charm at her with that look on his face. “Okay,” she tells him like an idiot.

Not tagged by anyone yet. Just felt like sharing. Tagging @ellstersmash @kittlesandbugs @thevikingwoman @roguelioness @galadrieljones @boshtet-juggler @noire-pandora and @wickedwitchofthewilds (if you want to share anything. No pressure as always.)

“Thank you,” she said, taking them and depositing them into her own satchel.

“I should warn you. These spells—many involve blood magic and magic even darker than that. Magic I have never experimented with myself.”

“I’m a Warden,” Mina said. “My very presence is a form of blood magic. I too am a dark magical experiment. I’ll be fine.”

Tagged by @roguelioness for wip Wednesday I believe. Thank you! Um this is the prologue to a story I have no business working on but it is what it is.

He had come here for his mark. Lying dormant, a faded green scar occasionally flickering in the palm of the dwarf’s—her hand. She wasn’t supposed to be here. Not awake. Not exposed to the conditions of this world. Yet, it had to be her. Lyrium blue hair, still styled in an ornate braided crown on her head. The snug ancient armor clearly crafted from the deep. If he had to take a guess, her tunic would be embroidered with intricate runes of protection, amongst others.

This caused a rift in his plans. If she woke up and saw him, his identity would be exposed. Or she would kill him on sight. He needed to flee. But if he fled, it would cost him the chance of getting his orb back and righting all his wrongs.

What was worse is that his heart grew tight as his mind flooded with memories of her lips. Lips that tasted of warmth in winter and spoke beautiful things in his ears. He stood in the wake of his revelation; he still loved her.

And what if—after all these years—she still loved him too?

Tagged by @roguelioness (thank you!!)

“Oh, you really shouldn’t be here,” someone says, almost like the voice in her own head and Mary-Beth drops the griffon paperweight. It shatters. “Oh. No, no, no, no.”

“Oh shit. Shit, I’m so sorry,” Mary-Beth says though she’s not sure who she’s apologizing to.

“It’s okay. Just—let me handle the glass.”

It’s then that the voice reveals a phantasmagoric shape. A woman. As Mary-Beth looks into the woman’s eyes, colors begin to appear and this woman is a reflection of herself. Well, nearly. She’s an elf. But the features are so similar. Blue eyes, fiery red hair, freckles everywhere, curvy shape and broader shoulders. Even the height is the exact same.

“Who—who are you?”

“Ah, yes. I forgot I haven’t properly introduced myself. Sarya. Sarya of Clan Lavellan.”

“Mary-Beth Trevelyan. Why are you a ghost?”

“I find that term offensive though subjective. I’m closer to a spirit.”

“Oh. So a demon?”

Sarya sighs. “You’d think after all these years there would be some better education on the subject. Especially all that I—you know what, never mind.” She sweeps the remainder of the glass into a dustpan and discards it in the waste bin.

Sleep, hidden, and smile!

Heyyy Ren 👋 I hope you’re doing well! Thank you for the words ☺️

There’s a sleep in Half Light (Fallen Hero fic)

“What the fuck were you doing running at this hour?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Hidden is also in Half Light:

He unlatches the hook and the hinges creak as it opens to reveal the tilted head of an exhausted Pacey.

“Can I come in?” Her face is hidden in the shadows of the hallway.

I have a million smiles but I’ll select one from Haunted, my TWC fic:

“We’re all afraid of something,” Dinah reassures with a squeeze of his leg.

Ahh thank you! This is a little snippet. I don’t have a lot of this yet. Still playing around with second person because it’s still very new for me and my style lol.

You stand there. A pile of rubble built up and packed into a form.

Human.

“Does it tell you that I love you?” He is standing here. Pink flesh, solid bone, softest hair and sweetest smile.

Just like that you crumple. All those recklessly placed pebbles, bricks and stones cascade to the floor. You crumple in on yourself.

And he is here. All that humanity wrapped around your brokenness, somehow holding you together.

Thanks Kit!

Parade’s not till Saturday.

It’s fucking Thursday.

Joke’s on everyone for trusting that their shit will be free from theft and vandalism.

She’s happy to teach a lesson.

One hundred and twenty-one chairs. Mentally tallying the total, she tosses the final chair into the back of the pick-up she stole from the asshole at the coffee shop. Hops up front, turns the ignition and speeds to the nearest landfill. She parks the truck. Pours gasoline. Flicks her lighter and with a smirk, throws it over her shoulder and dusts her hands as she walks away.

Now all she has to do is wait.

Hey friend 💛 thank you and of course! Here’s a tiny snippet. I don’t have much since this is more of a fun concept right now.

Ortega sighs. “Really Pace? Phoenix?”

“I’m the imposter this round. Thought it’d be fitting.”

“You’re not supposed to tell us you're the imposter,” Danny says.

“Why not? We can troll the clowns playing with us.” Pace fiddles around with her crew mate on the screen. Stabs the poor little unsuspecting green guy.

“Because it’s cheating,” Danny argues.

Argent shrugs from her curled up position in the armchair. One hand on her phone and the other dipping into a bag of chips. “Little too late for moral objections now, don’t you think?”

“We could start a new game,” Chen suggests.