that's a tag i never thought i'd write but here we are

anonymous asked:

Owen Grady dance gaze beginning

“I can’t dance.”

“Neither can I.”

You peered at Owen’s outstretched hand, over your drink. At the park, it was cleverly titled “Fossil Fuel”. In reality, it was just a Pina Colada with green food coloring, served in a souvenir glass that gave it its $15 price tag. Usually you stayed far away from Jurassic World’s many liquid scams, but it was Friday, Owen already bought everyone a few shots, and you were loosened up enough to take the plunge. You’d always been a sucker for tiny umbrellas.

But while the buzz opened your wallet, it kept your feet planted firmly to the ground. You managed to play it cool from the start, earning both Owen’s friendship, and respect as his coworker. It was difficult to do. Despite being so laid back, it took him time to warm up to people in a genuine sense. In his eyes you were either a friend, or someone he tolerated. Whether or not that was a conscious decision he made was unclear, but it was part of what made him so good at what he did.

Owen Grady was a dick, but a loveable one.

You could dance just fine, and you assumed he could, too, but you knew the second those strong arms came anywhere near you, it’ d be game over. Even if his intentions were innocent, the ending was inevitable. You’d be just another girl floating behind him as he led the way to his bungalow. Part of you liked to think you were stronger than that. But the way he looked at you with that playful gaze

“I’m not dancing, Owen,” you tried to hide the crack in your voice by taking a large sip of your drink. 

“Oh, come on. It’s a law that when Margaritaville plays while you’re in Margaritaville, you have to dance. It’s even in writing on the wall!” He gestured to one of the many decorative signs behind him, without looking. You squinted to see it better and laughed.

“That says “No shoes, no shirt, no problem”. I think you need your vision checked.” 

Owen grinned and shrugged. “That’s not a bad law, either.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Jesus, you’re such a flirt,” again, you tried to hide away in your drink, but you were now finding that it was very, very empty. 

“If you dance with me tonight, I’ll buy you dinner tomorrow. Please? Before the song ends?” 

Puppy dog eyes. The finishing blow. You sighed in defeat and stood. 

There were a few other couples swaying around. You couldn’t tell if it was dancing or drunkenness, but either way, you and Owen fit in nicely. 

He twirled you suddenly, and you smiled, feeling surprisingly comfortable against him. “You lied about not being able to dance.” 

“So did you.”

“Did you lie about anything else?” 

“If you’re referring to dinner, I’m a man of my word. I know a nice spot on the mainland. We can tell each other more lies. Maybe do some more dancing. Take things from there.” His face was very close to yours, and he was speaking lowly, as if reassuring you that his words were meant for you alone. 

His hand felt nice settled on your lower back. The scent of motor oil and leather was welcoming. Maybe this was the beginning of something. Maybe it wasn’t, and you’d stay as you were. Either way, you liked where things were going. And you liked the way he was kissing you. 

Because Peter Quill and Owen Grady are long lost brothers who love to dance.

Thank you!

So, it’s that time again!

I originally intended to wait longer with my next post like this, but then again I’d only have waited because I would want to avoid having to face my shyness by doing this here. So, instead of waiting, I decided to go ahead with this number.

I have reached another number, that will be mentioned once but only below the cut for those that don’t like people talking about their amount of followers.

This is incredibly hard for me, but I had big plans for my next post and I intend to stick to those plans. It will get very long below the cut, so be warned when you click.

Short version:

Thank you all for following me and thus being interested in my Star and/or my writing!

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A Ghost at the Back of Your Closet 

In which Framework!Fitz is confused about her motivations, and Jemma is trying, really, she is, but her body is still operating like it thinks he’s the enemy.

2352 words 

cw for a mention of childhood abuse, and discussion of the attack in 4x15 

read on AO3 

“I need a shower,” Daisy groans out, rubbing her hands down her face. She flops back on the seedy motel bed, eyes pointed toward the white, popcorn ceiling in a withering stare. “Why do I even need a shower? We’re in the fucking Matrix, none of this is real. Yet still, I smell. It’s completely unfair.”

Jemma sits at the foot of the bed, inspecting the map they’ve drawn on the wall (it’s not like it’ll matter, once they shut the framework down. What’s a little destruction of private property in the grade scheme of things?). Each of the team’s locations are marked with pushpins, along with lists of all the information they’ve managed to gather on them. It’s not enough, Jemma knows. They need more.

“You do smell a little.”

Hey,” Daisy whines.

Jemma turns back to her, blinking innocently. “What? I said ‘a little’.”

“Whatever.” Daisy pushes off the bed, walks backwards toward the bathroom. She raises an eyebrow at Fitz, who’s sitting on the other bed. “You two gonna be okay without adult supervision for a little while?”

Jemma freezes. She and Fitz, this Fitz—Leo, he’s called here, though she refuses to call him that, even in her head—haven’t been alone together since they finally managed to convince him to come along. She knows what Daisy’s implying, and Jemma wishes she wouldn’t. She’s more than a little uncomfortable with the idea. This isn’t Fitz. Her Fitz. That’s what she tells herself is the problem, anyway.

“Yeah- uh- yeah, we’ll be fine,” Fitz says when she doesn’t speak, when it’s gotten just a little uncomfortable.

Daisy eyes them both, then holds up her hands, retreating to the bathroom.

Jemma doesn’t turn around to look at him. She knows what she’ll see. He’ll be sitting there, looking so much like Fitz but so not, so, so out of place in his posh suit and scarf. Looking like a person who would never set foot in a motel of all places, which he’d voiced when they’d arrived. He’s close, but he’s not Fitz. So she doesn’t look.

Plus, he might be looking back at her. She doesn’t know exactly why, but that’s the last thing she wants.

So she just focuses on the work in front of her. Not that she’ll figure out anything new just by staring at the same slips of paper they have been for the last two days, but still. The effort matters.

He waits until the water is running in the shower before he speaks. His presence alone is stifling, but his voice is something even more jarring.

“Why do you want me back?” he asks, and of all things it’s not what she expected. It confuses her enough that she looks back at him. He’s watching her carefully, thoughtfully, not really looking at her eyes but lower on her face, and it’s so Fitz-like that she wants to cry.


“I- He- obviously wasn’t very good to you. Why do you even want him back?”

Her eyebrows draw together, mouth popping open in confusion. “Where are you getting that? Fitz is never anything but good to me.”

“You flinch.”

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RP Tips & Tricks: Taking Initiative

Ey! So I saw the lovely post @wietkoning posted and thought I’d add a few tips myself. To start off I agree wholeheartedly that the most important thing when it comes to gaining threads, followers, asks, friends and more is

Taking Initiative.

What does this mean?

Making the first move – It’s up to you to start things off. Just go for it. After all, if you don’t do it, who will? Some ways you can do this follow.

Messaging your new followers – I find it a nice way to make new friends and gain yourself some lovely RP partners. Just shoot new followers a message telling them you’d love to RP/plot/chat!

Sending asks to your mutuals – See a symbol meme on dash? Send one in! Doesn’t hurt you and makes other people happy and more likely to return the favor. And, hey, even if they don’t that’s alright! No need to feel depressed. It takes time! See any other types of memes or starter sentences? Send some if you can. I get that sometimes it’s hard without knowing the muse, but try your best. It means a lot to people, and it’s not too hard.

Tagging people in tag memes – It’s probably not wise to tag every single mutual you have like I try to do sometimes rifp, but tag people you’re interested in getting to know more! I feel like it sort of brings people closer to you if you start tagging them regularly.

Talking to your mutuals – Bro, just hit them up. Tell them your plot ideas. Tell them what you just love about their muse or their writing. Ask questions if you have any. Let them know that you want to write with them or just be their friend! The best threads almost always happen between muns who can laugh together over ridiculous muses.

Following new people – Don’t be afraid to follow. Follow that person you’ve been admiring for ages. If they follow back, great! See tip #1! If not give them a bit, and if it seems like they missed your follow hit them up! Don’t bug them if they say they didn’t follow for a reason, but it’s not unlikely that they just missed the notification.

Being engaged and interested in your mutuals – See them posting ooc? Did they do well on that test, post that selfie? Or maybe they’re feeling a bit down and need a little cheering up? It’s not a requirement, but it can mean a lot just to hit that like for the positive and maybe drop a reply or IM saying you’re there if it’s a negative.

So sure, we’ve heard things like this before, but what should we not do? Surely there’s a thing or two to avoid?

Being negative – Alright, this can mean a lot of things, but mainly the things that can make people uncomfortable and likely to not interact with you have been listed here.

Constant negative ooc posts ( “I never get asks.” “I’m not good enough.” “I’m sorry I suck.” etc. ) – You’re not helping yourself. You just gotta take action. Things won’t change if you complain, but if you do something about it, they definitely will! Disclaimer: This mainly applies to posting about RP troubles rather than IRL troubles. 

Whining in IM about lack of asks, interactions, lack of friends, etc. – To be completely honest, it makes you unpleasant. It will discourage people from wanting to RP with you, and basically works to your disadvantage.

Saying your muse is “boring” or something similar – If even you don’t like your muse, the sad truth is people will be discouraged from RPing with you even if your muse is the greatest thing ever! Have confidence. Fake it ‘til you make it, right? We’re all here to write, and everyone improves with time.

Basically just sounding hopeless – Your friends will support you, but it’s probably not the best first impression. Don’t be afraid to talk about your feelings, but ya know, maybe don’t paste it all across your blog.

Hey, it’s alright to feel intimidated or sad or like an outsider. Stuff like that happens, but that’s why you’ve gotta take the initiative. The community is here to write with you as long as you act like a decent person. 

One last thing:

Be sensitive and engaged – If you seem interested in other people’s muses and lives and are there to laugh and write and love with them, you’ll go far. The first step is just realizing it cannot always be about you. If you turn the focus of your conversations away from yourself and your muse and recognize the beauty in your RP partners’ muses, people will be just as interested in you. Yes, you’ve worked hard to create your muse, and they’re wonderful, I’m sure. People will see it; just be out there and love them and their muses. They’ll return the favor. Promise. 

TL;DR – Be friendly, confident and upbeat. Don’t think you’re any of those things? Fake it ‘til you make it, my man, and don’t give up hope if things don’t change right away. People would love to RP with you.

All you have to do is make the first move!

smoothdogsgirl  asked:

Ok so for the song request I have 2 in mind. # 1 Nelly - The Fix for Dean reader or Nelly - Die A Happy Man for Bucky reader. So since I can't decide which one I want more I'd say surprise me and write whichever one works for you. I hope that's ok.

Hello doll, I figured I’d post Bucky’s story first. I do hope you like it.

Happy man

Summary: After years, no decades of being at someone else’s whim, making it so he never thought happiness would be his for the taken.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Setting: Future

Warning: excessive fluffiness

Note: The Song used is Die a happy man - Nelly, Check it out its an awesome song. It was originally written and sung by Thomas Rhett I forgot to add that part the first time.  

Tags: @winters-buck @aquabrie


No one ever thought he’d make it this far, not even Bucky himself could for see the life he leads now. With all the evil he’d done, the death’s his hands had dealt. Steve would tell him none of it had been is fault and for years after the trigger words Hydra put in his head were deactivated, and he’d proved himself healed. Bucky still felt the blame rested solely with him. No matter how many times his friends, at times still a novelty to him, tried to make him see that what happened wasn’t his fault. Maybe it’d been because the nightmares had clouded his mind, echoing every night to torment him. Making it so that no matter how many missions he went on, how many Hydra bases fell and captured or how many times he helped save the world, none been enough to assuage the guilt he always felt.

Not till you walked into his life and turned things upside down with your quiet ways, sneaking into his heart one moment at a time. Reassuring him that things happen for a reason, one we may never know about but it all leads to somewhere right? You’d smile at him and his world would right itself.


Baby, last night was hands down
One of the best nights
That I’ve had no doubt
Between the bottle of wine
And the look in your eyes and the Marvin Gaye
Then we danced in the dark under September stars in the pourin’ rain

Glancing down, hair spread out over his chest, breathe coming out softly against his skin a reminder that you’re real and here, never going anywhere. His biggest fear. He’d take fighting Hydra again, being brainwashed, cryo-freeze, hell even Nazi’s but to lose you would be missing a piece of him.

Smiling, human hand running gently through your lush hair, feeling you stir but not wake as he watches you sleep remembering the first time he’d met you. Silent, tiptoeing your way into the kitchen one morning six years ago for a cup of tea, fearing you’d wake everyone. Bucky sitting at the island sipping his own hot coffee flipping through the newspaper, call it old fashion all you want. But for him having the thin sheets of paper between his fingers felt more real than reading it on some table thing Tony always carried. Don’t get him wrong technology was great, had its place yet, he still preferred something he knew.

Steal blue eyes, had caught you coming into the communal kitchen nose in a book, walking carefully, looking up every few seconds so is not to run into anything. He’d stayed silent, watching you intrigued by the beauty who hadn’t bothered to look up at him, till you put a hot cup of tea down across. He’d seen the shocked look in your E/C eyes as a shy smile left your lips along with a good morning. Bucky been hooked from that moment on.

And I know that I can’t ever tell you enough
That all I need in this life is your crazy love

If I never get to see the Northern lights
Or if I never get to see the Eiffel Tower at night
Oh, if all I got is your hand in my hand
Baby, I could die a happy man

Happy man, baby

 Later finding out that you were a nurse, working alongside Dr. Cho and he’d run into you so many times over the first year. Sam would tease him saying that he always got hurt just so he could see you. There’d been a little truth to that but not all. At first he hadn’t been sure on how to approach you, being raised in the 40’s sucked major sometimes. Though he soon learned that you weren’t like any woman he’d met past nor present.

You hid yourself away in medicine, in books and music. The rare times Bucky had off from missions he’d try to catch up on everything he missed in the last seventy plus years of being a brainwashed super assassin. That’s how the two of you came to form a friendship at first. Bucky been trying to work the DVD player, having been restricted to bed rest from serious injures gathered while taking down a drug lord and searching for the Hydra connection. You silently walked in asking if he needed any help. The two of you spent the day watching movies, debating the finer points of buttered popcorn to natural, never figured out how that debate came up. Forming a bond that Bucky hadn’t experienced since Steve. It felt nice, to have someone else to talk with, to explain things like an adult and not a child, like Sam and Tony would act when he asked for help with something he didn’t understand. Granted he’d known both were just wanting to pick and make fun.

You, were different. Not seeing his age for a lack of understanding, just no knowledge of this future he’d found himself in, patience when he didn’t understand at first, kind in the mess ups though not taking his shit either. In those times Bucky found himself falling in love with you slowly, as nightmares grew less, and his self-worth more.

Baby, that red dress brings me to my knees
Oh, but that black dress makes it hard to breathe
You’re a saint, you’re a Goddess,
The cutest, the hottest,
A masterpiece
It’s too good to be true,
Nothing better than you
In my wildest dreams

Sunlight flittered in through slightly parted curtains gracing your side just enough to create a butter yellow halo around your body snuggled tight against his chest. His memories still recounting the moment he almost lost you to the darkness of his own mind and self-hatred. Enemies, no not Hydra but people who saw Bucky as a threat to the nation’s security. That wanted him locked away for the crimes he committed, or worse dead. It’d been a simple night, dinner, dancing, walking through a quiet Central park watching the Hunter’s moon on a slightly chilled October night. You’d been together for the last five months, happy, in love and enjoying each other. Small in number, yet all civilians had followed you, circling when you stopped for a moment. One brave soul speaking the words hundreds if not millions thought. That Bucky’s a monster and should be put down.

You’d bravely turned to face the accusers, speaking quietly, politely as you always did. Getting a slap harshly across your cheek for your ideas on the matter. A bruise that lasted so many days that followed. The worst came after, as Bucky locked himself away from everyone including you. Blame, easy to lay on the ones who attacked you, yet he took it upon his own shoulders.

Bruises as you told Bucky heal, his silence and absence hurt more than any hit. You tried to understand, to see things his way, and at first it worked. As the days dragged into weeks and months then passed, you started to wonder if the Bucky you’d come to love left that night.

Funny enough it took Tony almost beating him up for Bucky to see reason. It’d been either listen to Ironman himself and learn from the mistakes he never spoke of or get locked in a closet till you both spoke. The former won out, of course Bucky wouldn’t have objected to being locked in a closet with you. Repairing the damage had been slow, though worth every step. Bonding the two of you closer than before and making Sam sick of seeing the lovey dovey crap as he always good naturedly belly ached about. Steve on the other hand just smiled happy that his best friend had found love.

And I know that I can’t ever tell you enough
That all I need in this life is your crazy love

If I never get to see the Northern lights
Or if I never get to see the Eiffel Tower at night
Oh, if all I got is your hand in my hand
Baby, I could die a happy man, yeah

Feeling you start to move against him, arms tightening around your waist, he didn’t want to break the spell which settled over your little world this early in the morning. A glint of sunlight bounced off the ring on his left hand, goofy grin sliding into place as a pair of warm lips press a soft kiss to his chest.

“Morning James,” that’s the other difference you called him James most of the time and he found he loved the way his given name rolled off your tongue. Smooth and sexy just like you.

“Morning doll,” eyes sliding down to capture your sleepy ones.

Snuggling back into the warmth of his arms, eyes sliding closed, feeling his heart beat against your ear. “How long have you been watching me this time?”

Chuckling deep, Bucky gripped your chin to raise it up, pecking your lips sweetly, “Not long, darlin.”

“Hmm,” biting your lip, eyes slowly opening to stare into the gorgeous blue grey orbs of the man you love. “How come I don’t believe you?”

Human fingers dancing against your skin, tickling you, body squirming into his, “Now is that anyway for a wife to treat her husband? Thinking he’s lying already.”

“If the shoe fits,” you manage to state between fits of laughter.

Watching you, breath caught in his throat at how beautiful you looked this early in the morning. Hair mussed from previous excursions in pleasure, eyes still slightly sleepy, lips light pink just like your cheeks. “God how did I get so lucky,” bionic hand coming around to cup the back of your head. “I’ve traveled hundreds, thousands of miles and still doesn’t compare to right now, here with you.”

Tears pooled in your eyes, “When did you get so sappy Mr. Barnes?”

“The moment I realized that as long as I have your hand in mine I could die a happy man Mrs. Barnes,” the sincerity with which his words are spoken has breathe pausing in your lungs.

Tears slip free, one hand coming to rest against his stubbled cheek, “No talk to dying James let’s just enjoy us,” you smile though happy tears. Lips coming to rest against his softly, “I love you to husband forever.”

The squeal that left your lips is covered by his mouth devouring yours in a soul searing kiss that turned very passionate and a honeymoon spent in bed for most of the three weeks.

I don’t need no vacation,
No fancy destination
Baby, you’re my great escape
We could stay at home,
Listen to the radio
Or dance around the fireplace

And if I never get to build my mansion in Georgia
Or drive a sports car up the coast of California
Oh, if all I got is your hand in my hand
Baby, I could die a happy man

Baby, I could die a happy man
Oh, I could die a happy man
You know I could girl
I could die, I could die a happy man

pabup-deactivated20150324  asked:

Hello! First of all, thank you for your attention, I haven't seen any post or answer about what I want to ask and that's why I'm here. I was wondering if you could help me. The thing is, I want to write but I don't know what to write and I don't know what to do anymore and when it comes to expressing myself, my thoughts, I cannot express myself and my words how I want, so it's kind of difficult to communicate and write for me and if you could help me I'd be very very grateful. Thank you, Irene.

It’s great that you want to write! Getting stuck can be frustrating, but fortunately there are lots of ways to get unstuck. Different things work for different writers, so try a few of these and figure out what works for you:


  • Start small. Trying to face down a nine-book behemoth of an idea you have squirreled away is probably going to make you feel even more frustrated. Start with a smaller project—a poem, a few short stories, unrelated scenes. Write something small first, and if it ends up becoming something bigger, great!
  • Work on something old. Do you have any projects from the past lying around somewhere? Dig them out and reread them. Try editing them or restructuring the plot, changing the characters. Altering an existing project can be a good way to get your creative juices flowing again.
  • Read something. It might be time for a break—sometimes your brain rebels when it’s been working too hard for too long. Give it a breather and read a good book. (Or, read a bad book and think of ways you might try to fix it if it was yours.)
  • Music! Music is usually my go-to when I’m having trouble thinking of something to write or when I’m stuck on a scene. Check YouTube and 8tracks for playlists in a given genre, mood, character type, and more—maybe your inspiration is hiding in a tune.
  • Enlist some buddies or betas. Start a writer’s group or chat with friends who like writing as well. If you have a piece you want someone to read, look for beta readers (links below). Having someone to bounce ideas around with can help you get unstuck, too. (And it never hurts to hang out with friends for a bit!)
  • Most importantly: Do not beat yourself up about having writer’s block. It happens, and it’s ok! Now is the time to figure out how you get un-blocked. Check out some tags below.


  • Back to basics. Brush up on grammar and vocabulary—see if any of those vocab words gets you thinking.
  • Write a story based on a writing prompt. If you’re stuck on what to write about, check the prompts tag for written prompts, first line starters, and dialogue starters.
  • Get inspired with a picture. We have tags for setting inspiration and character inspiration, if you find inspiration best by seeing something.
  • Get unstuck! There’s all kinds of wisdom in the stuck? and getting started for being unable to start a story, dealing with a story you no longer like, and general writer’s block aid.
  • Beta readers. Tips for working with betas here. The betafinder blog is a great way to get in touch with people willing to beta read your story.

Best of luck to you!



The townfolk of Storybrooke apparently have nothing better to do than to gossip like high-schoolers. Robin overhears. 

a/n: posting this regardless of being rushed and un-edited. contains some 3x18 spoilers. 


Regina and Robin were having a conversation. From where she was sitting - it looked to Tinkerbell like the conversation was light hearted, and fun. Like they were teasing one another and thoroughly enjoying the attention from the other. It made her smile… they’d finally found each other… and it was clear to anybody - even those who knew nothing of the spell revealing them to be soul-mates/true-loves whatever you wanted to call it - that they belonged together.

‘So, what uh- what do you know about that?’

Tinkerbell was snapped out of her trance of watching them and turned her attention to David.

'What?’ she asked.

'You’ve been watching them quite intensely for the past fifteen minutes.’ Snow chimed in. 'And come to think of it - you and Regina have been rather close recently… you must know of whatever is going on between them.’

'Between who?’ she tried playing innocent.

'Regina and Robin.’ David said.

'Oh… right… yes.’ She said.

'So…?’ Snow asked.

'What?’ She asked - still playing the part of innocent.

'So… what’s going on?’

Her resolve broke and she grinned. 'They’re perfect for each other, don’t you think?’

Snow frowned. 'I don’t know… Regina and Robin? I don’t see it working… not long term.’

'Oh but you’re so wrong. They’re made for each other.’

'I’m going to have to disagree with you there.’ David said. 'Regina is the evil queen - she had Robin hunted for years. She is everything he stands against.’

'No.’ Tinkerbell shook her head. 'They are actually made for each other.’

Snow frowned. 'What aren’t you saying?’

Tinkerbell looked back over to the pair - sure enough they still only had eyes for each other - so she was safe.

'You cannot tell anyone.’ She said. 'But… years ago - before the curse, Regina came to me, looking for help and so… I helped her track down her true-love. The man she’s supposed to be with.’

'And…?“ Snow asked.

'It was the man with the lion tattoo.’ She grinned.

Snow and David exchanged a glance. 'Robin has a lion tattoo… on his wrist.’ David said.

Tinkerbell nodded enthusiastically. 'True love, soul mates… whatever you want to call it.’

'Regina… and… Robin?’ Snow asked.

Tinkerbell nodded. 'Mmhmm.’


She sighed. 'And aren’t they perfect together - I’m so happy they finally found each other.’


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