#jordan writes

[wingedhxrmes]

My fic writing adventures continue! This is my first step in the Critical Role fandom and with the Julien/Occtis ship. I had a great time with this one and figuring out how to write for both Julien and Occtis. I hope people enjoy it as much as I did!!

Here’s the link to the fic on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88209821

All kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!! Also I respond to every comment, I love talking with y’all 😭💞

[jordanparker]

hear me out, no-powers assistant peter and tony is his boss thats in love with him but doesnt want to do anything. one day the fantastic four show up (before the accident in space) and theyre looking for some funding since victor von doom didnt want to sponsor them. peter convinces tony to fund them and also convinces tony that he should go with too cos he could represent SI. so the day of the mission, tony gifts him a little spider that peter had been trying to get his hands on since his oscorp days and tells him to bring it onto the trip to remember him by.

so the whole accident goes on except peter's dna merges with the spiders and thats how he gets his powers. cue frantic tony down on earth trying to form some sort of communication link and just breaking down because he thinks peters dead.

and then peter wakes up in the hospital and he just feels tony passed out in a chair next to his bed, holding his hand and he figures out his abilities when tony wakes up and tries to pull his hand away. but he cant cos their hands are stuck together.

[shoutaaizawas]

i really told myself i was gonna write after watching falcon and winter soldier and now i’m writing a bucky x reader one shot smh

[pansexualandscared]

Soooo @joyfulsongbird read this and dared me to post it so blame them I suppose. Enjoy! (I’m actually super proud of this and probably would have posted it anyway) This hasn’t been edited or anything so don’t be too mean pls.

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They wake up in the early morning, dressing silently for the long day ahead. Thin layers of clothing along with sturdy bags to keep their equipment in. They trek across the fields at dawn, ready to catch the first streak of sunlight as it appears over the horizon. The only sound is the wisp of the grass against their bare feet and their quiet morning conversation. As they reach the center of the field there is a ladder already set up. The youngest of the three races up to the top, blissfully immune to danger in her youth. The middle one smiles and opens her bag, revealing hundreds of jars. The oldest lays out a blanket on the grass and sits on it, opening her own bag to retrieve what she needs. 

“There!” The little one cries, pointing at the faint glow on the horizon. As the first beam appears she spreads her arms out, glorious in her silhouette. 

“Hurry!” Her mother urges, and the girl seems to come to and gently lifts something paper thin, carefully coaxing it out so as not to damage the beam. It is a square dripping with sunlight. Before a drop can fall the girl’s mother has it, carefully handing over to her own mother sitting patiently on the blanket. The old woman takes the paper square and puts it into a tin bucket she has been carrying. Slowly the light seeps out of the paper, now taking to the bucket. The woman takes the paper and lays it to the side, handing the now almost full bucket to her daughter who starts filling jars with the liquid. For every sunbeam that appears, the three work to catch just a bit of it. They talk as they work, when they would go to the market next, what they would create with the sunlight. They would mix it into pies that would make adults giggle, keep it in the bottle so it could act like a nightlight, mix it with stars to create something more powerful than all of them.

As the sun drifted peacefully back down, the three began to pack up, moving slower now that all the jars were filled. As they walked, the little girl cheerfully examined her sun stained hands, chattering as fast as a songbird to her grandmother. They near the old house and the young one runs ahead to talk to two more children, both armed with nets. In the distance, the starcatchers are already beginning their work, but the children linger behind and the adults let them, allowing their childhood to live on as long as possible. The mother and the grandmother have reached the house now and they call to the little girl, who waves to her friends and runs up the porch stairs. After the girl is tucked into bed the other two will stay up late, folding the paper into little hearts that actually beat, and birds that fly around the room. Content in the knowledge that the next morning there will be no harvesting, everyone will sit outside on the large sagging porch and mix the sunlight and the starlight as they watch the children play.

[ryostrenchcoat]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

hey look everybody, i actually fuckin updated TiaL! please go read it and validate me 

[disfiguringoddities]

I met God,

He let out a sigh while gently gliding pine salve on my arms, wondering why I cough out charcoal and cry so rarely for the forest is home and my body is all there is here he whispers that the water will one day take me with gentle brushes against my weakened ribs my heart with little adoration to spare he gives the gentle kiss from a lover you only meet at sunset and a caress found only as the lights burn cold he leans in to tell me, with a cold composure and his face ashen “do not fear the hurt; do not fear your truths,  for you are in your own golden image there is little you can do out of fear but so much you can do with acceptance. hear me out in this moment and do not forget that you’ve overcome it all, a good amount for the ideal one and that is the most beautiful thing yet” the fog rolls in and his pine blanket falls to shambles as I realize my own isolation within all cold however I feel my fingertips warm and my eyelashes flutter I’m destined for the sunrises ahead

[stolenthemoon]

Fander Favorite

Warnings: Roman Angst™, Deceit mention (saying that something he said was wrong)

A/N~ Shit tier: no character development / Good tier: character development through thought out plot and conflict / God tier: character development though random intervals of a musical for a jam commercial (In other words, my son needed some angst and this was a the best possible way to have it happen :’) )

Roman scrolled through Tumblr with increasing despair. He had created a laptop for himself in the mind palace a while ago, but seldom found himself favoring it instead of the worlds he could create with a snap of his fingers. Now his fingers moved across the mousepad shakily, eyes frantically reading post after post all tagged ‘sanders sides’.

Accounts of people’s whose screen names all had something to do with one of the sides flew past his vision, his subconscious reading them, and his back starting to ache with his shoulders held tense, breath still. Logan Logan Logan Logic Pat Dad Anx Anxiety Logic Logan Patton Pat Virgil Logan Virge Verge Prince. Roman’s hand stopped, and his shoulders relaxed as he clicked on the URL, and searched the ‘sander sides’ tag. Immediately his scrolling once again became frantic.

Logan appreciation post

Virgil angst

Moxiety fanfic (”moxiety”? He’d have to google it later to find out what it means Logan is smart, he probably knows)

Logan screen caps from the newest video

Post analyzing Logan in the newest video

Something about sleep cycles? (Huh. Must have been mistagged.)

Data analyzing a survey of the Fander’s favorite si-

Roman took in a sharp breath as his fingers ghosted over the control pad. He scanned the data. Scanned it again. Read it over. Picked it apart every pie chart, number, statistic, footnote, and comment at a time.

The prince slowly closed the laptop, and acutely registered that his hands were shaking slightly. He felt numb as he exhaled a surprisingly steady breath, and turned over the information in his head, trying to wrap it around the fact that was, apparently, abundantly clear to the rest of the world, yet seemed to have escaped his knowledge.

“Deceit was wrong,” his voice was impassive and emotionless like Logan’s. The thought would have made in smug in another circumstance, “Logan’s not the least favorite.”

I am.

[livelikethats]

i have always loved fiercely

felt fiercely

every emotion landing deep in my heart

loved recklessly

felt with abandon

sometimes not knowing what to say or do or even think

just feeling

content and scared

running away

feeling trapped

feeling free

living in an almost constant state of agony

feeling too much, and yet

not feeling enough

- agony // j.k.