#consonance cellphone

[tired-biscuit]

how would the boys react to the reader touching herself, thinking she’s all alone in the bedroom🫠🫢(naruto, kiba, shikamaru)

18+ MDNI/fem!reader // mix of modern AU and canonverse, established relationship, reader getting caught in 4k whilst touching herself.

i'm so sorry this took me so long. hope you like it!!

𝙉𝘼𝙍𝙐𝙏𝙊

Naruto hears it before he sees it.

The breathless tone of your voice comes as a surprise for him when you pick up the phone and answer his call with a mere, “Yeah?” instead of the usual bubbly lilt that he’s gotten used to over the course of your relationship.

Out of habit, he’s called you one last time to say goodnight before his head hits the pillow and he snoozes off to dreamland, but the tone of your voice changes that initial plan in an instant. So instead, Naruto finds himself feeling awake and alert now; the upper half of his body propped up with the help of one elbow whilst his fingers fiddle with the crispy white bed sheet that seems to have become a standard for every hotel he spends the night in.

He’s miles away after all; attending a business trip for the rest of the week, and you’re panting while he’s not there with you. He can literally hear the slight tremble of every inhale and exhale you make the moment he presses his cellphone closer to his ear and just listens.

It’s feeble - so very faint - but it’s there. The slightest hitch in the back of your throat, the deeper and longer exhale than usual. Listening to you like this, Naruto wonders what on earth could you possibly be up to at nearly midnight? Come to think of it, it’s so late that he catches himself feeling more surprised that you’ve actually picked up, rather than the way you chose to do it.

It’s the reason why his teeth find home in the inside of his cheek as he asks, “Hey, baby. How come you’re still up?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you reply now, sighing. He listens in as noises that he, at best, recognizes as you tossing and turning on top of the bed he simply longs to be in at that exact moment before you finally settle and speak into the phone again, “How about you, love? Can’t sleep either?”

“Mm, no,” your boyfriend mumbles absent-mindedly, playing around with the two strings of his grey sweatpants, which you’ve packed into his suitcase so neatly just a couple of days prior. You’re still panting; still breathing deeply just like you do every time he races you up the stairs of your apartment complex, or makes you chase after him when he steals your phone like some damn toddler.

All of it certainly piques his interest.

“Aw,” you gush softly now, nudging him back into focus. “How come?”

One string wrapped around two thick fingers, Naruto finally speaks again, “I miss you too much. It’s weird sleeping completely alone, to be honest... I’m not used to it anymore.”

He swears that he can hear you groan now. This soft, little sound that makes his heart race and his blood rush through his veins at a faster rate than normal. That makes him start to sweat and turns his hand clammy in mere seconds as his grip turns tighter around the device he keeps pressing to his ear. Especially as you inhale deeply and utter, “You miss me, baby?”

“Yeah, baby,” he finds himself replying in a tone so hushed he can barely decipher all the vowels and consonants, “I do.”

Nothing but silence meets him on the other line for a couple of short moments. You’re breathing through your mouth now, so much that there’s a literal gasp lacing your voice as you question him further, “How much?”

“Like I’ve said,” he mumbles, fingers still fiddling with the string, “a lot. So much actually, that I can’t stop thinking about you. I mean, I could barely concentrate during the meeting we had today… Shikamaru was pissed because I ended up looking stupid as hell, but all I could think about was how I can’t even remember the last time we’ve been apart like this, and the fact that it makes me upset.”

“Fuck, Naru.” You whine now, and he can’t see it but judging by how deeper your voice turns, it sounds like you’re tipping your head back into the pillow as you speak from your throat: “Why do you gotta say shit like that…? You’re so–... You know.”

So honest.

“Well, you asked,” he says, feeling his brow quirk at your inability to finish your sentence. “I’m just telling you how I feel about you, pretty… I thought you liked that about me.”

“Ah,” you sigh again. “I do! Of course I do… Like it s’much, actually.”

He’s silent again. Just listens to your fast-paced breaths and the little, cutesy noises you make whilst he twirls the string around his fingers. He touches the waistband of his sweatpants at some point as it tightens around his knuckles, forcing him to repeat the action all over again.

But that's not all. Mind full with you now, Naruto is also promptly ignoring the bulge that’s turning more and more distinguishable against the thick cotton with each passing minute he spends playing with the string. Turning a blind eye at the way it twitches when he trails a single fingertip along its length just because he can; he finds it hard to concentrate on proper socialization now.

Christ, just the way you sound is enough to turn his mind hazy and his dick hard. Is he just that easy to arouse, or is his love for you that potent? Might be both?

“Baby?” Still gasping and swallowing all your vowels, you’re nudging him back to reality again as you ask, “You there?”

“Mhmmm,” you hear him hum gently, his voice nothing more but a soft lullaby that nearly strokes your ear now with love and tenderness, “I’m here, pretty. Don’t worry.”

Your heartbeat speeds up at the pet name and how willing he is at reassuring you. At how deep his voice gets whenever he’s oh, so very tired. It makes him drawl on his words in the most appealing of ways, and is nothing like the eager, boisterous way he speaks with you during the day. So you just need to make him keep talking. Need to keep listening to that wonderfully sluggish drawl, because you only get to hear it during times like these.

“What’re you doing?”

Sadly for you, Naruto keeps his answer short and rather bland, “Nothing much, you?”

But his fingertip is still tracing the ridge of his cock as he says it. Lazy, even strokes that he's still deciding on whether to prolong or not. But you don't know that, of course. You just hear his drawl and the sigh he lets out afterwards.

And now you pause whilst you eye your own hand that’s wound up in-between your legs even before he called; as well as the fingers that keep disappearing from view as you keep pushing them deeper and deeper into your needy pussy that isn’t at all satisfied with what you’re doing.

You're so frustrated. Even the vibrator didn’t help. Come to think of it, all of your toys just feel so wrong. And you know damn well what would feel right, however the trouble is that it’s unreachable from how far away it is at the moment.

You’re practically yearning for just two of his digits that’d stroke your demanding walls and curl inside you in a way that would make your toes curl just as intensely. Yearning for his mouth and tongue that love to lap up every droplet of your essence and suck at your sensitivity until you’re outright squealing from pleasure. For his cock, that would pound into you right after you’d cum the first time and would make you gush twice as hard only minutes later. 

Hell, you miss him so darn much that you’d even be satisfied with him letting you ride his thigh until the friction would make your cunt drool all over his jeans. You’re just that sexually frustrated - when he’s away, especially.

And you’re also so sad that he’s not here with you. So much, in fact, that it makes your pussy hurt from how empty it is.

“Also nothin’,” you manage to mumble finally, face blooming with warmth at the little mistruth. Shaking your head, you sink into reality by force. It’s not like he’ll know, right?

Silence greets you again. You spend it by continuing to pleasure yourself and attempting to breathe normally during it.

“Yeah?” he says all of a sudden, chuckling into the phone so darkly that it makes your skin buzz whilst a shiver tumbles down your spine. “You’re sure ‘bout that?”

“Y-Yes!” Your brows knit tightly together as you attempt to curl your fingers inside you in the same way he tends to do it, but to no avail. Even speeding up the little circles your thumb draws over your puffy clit doesn’t help. You’re absolutely drenched; lying naked and sweaty on top of the mattress he loves to fuck you on, and it’s all for nothing.

He pokes at you again, “Absolutely sure?”

“Of course, Naruto.” Irked.

Still, your boyfriend sniggers at the quiet groan of agitation you let out the moment you pull your fingers out and smear the gooey slick all over your clit instead. He doesn't know what you're doing exactly, but he has acquired a vague idea by now. You're not that smooth with it, after all - not smooth at all, actually.

It's why he sounds nearly complacent as he says,

“You don’t mind if I FaceTime you, then; do you, baby?”

𝙆𝙄𝘽𝘼

Kiba smells it before he sees it.

His senses heighten as the scent of your sweet arousal wafts to his nose the moment he steps foot inside your shared apartment. He’s come home late from his mission; finished it two days later than he’d said he would to be exact, but instead of being annoyed with the bothersome delay, he catches himself feeling needy instead. 

Why? He can smell you all over the place, after all. Strong and sweet - the scent of your pussy is quite literally everywhere, because the door that's leading to your bedroom is wide open and the smell seeps right out of it like a heavy fog of sorts.

Kiba's body is blazing. His mouth waters at the sugar as he attempts to swallow down the groan that's bubbling up his throat; sharp pupils dilating sideways until they’re so big he’d be able to see everything in the dark. Even his breathing is getting heavier as his heartbeat accelerates to the point of hurting.

The smell of your yearning for climax is potent enough that it coats his mind with a layer of fuzz that's so thick he can't think straight anymore, and it makes his skin burn hot so fast that even he’s surprised. Only seconds pass and yet his dick is already twitching with immoral anticipation. By the time he drops the heavy backpack off of his stiff shoulders and starts walking down the hall, it seems that his cock is doing all the thinking for him already.

He hasn’t fucked you in a while. And he’s tired; simply exhausted from the stupid mission that’s kept him away from you for so fucking long, but he can’t bring himself to care about that. Not now.

Because as soon as he approaches the doorway of your bedroom and rests one shoulder against its frame, he can’t just smell you, but he can see you as well. 

And he can also hear you panting as he watches you pleasure yourself on top of the bed he’s longed to sleep on for the last three weeks. Your legs are splayed so wide apart that you're completely exposed to his wandering, albeit just as hungry gaze. Holy fuck, you look so pretty like this; all needy and driven mad with lust because you're so clearly aching for him. He’s missed you so much.

And it's rather uncharacteristic for Kiba, but he takes a moment to appreciate the sight. To just take you in; all tender and raw, because in your delirious state, you haven't even managed to pick up on his presence yet.

The reason for it might be because your eyes are screwed shut in visible frustration. He can tell that you’re unable to make yourself cum just by how agitated your little moans sound, as well as the fervour you're fingering yourself with, after all. 

You're knuckles-deep in your pretty pussy, thumb pressing against your puffy clit in clumsy circles as your brow furrows in response to the too-mellow pleasure that never feels right anymore. Gosh, no matter what you do, your digits just aren't enough. They aren't as long and thick as his own are, and they don't curl in the same manner his own can. They don't go as deep. Aren't able to stroke that sweet spot you’re trying so hard to reach now.

And for fuck's sake, he can’t take it. Looking as helpless as you do, he needs to take care of you now. Now, now, now. Fuck you like an animal; all raw and fast and rough.

“Missed me that much, huh, pretty?”

His voice nearly makes you jump out of your skin the moment it meets your ears inside the dark bedroom, but before you can even scream in terror, he's already on you; palm clamped over your mouth so tight that you can’t even get a squeak out.

It takes you long moments to realize who you’re looking at. Nothing but his heavy breathing fills the hot air between you as you keep staring at each other and he slowly moves his palm from your panting mouth when he’s absolutely sure you won’t make noise. The room is so dark that half of his face is covered in shadows but his eyes are still as fierce as ever. All sharp around the edges and messy-haired, he’s nothing short of a brute. That’s definitely your moron of a boyfriend, all right.

“Idiot,” you whisper-shout, “y-you told me you were going to be-”

“C’mon, lemme in,” he interrupts quietly, way too hot and impatient to endure your scolding now. He’s already dipping in to spread your legs further apart when you attempt to protest from how embarrassed you are that he’s caught you in an act so lewd. 

Having him so close, you begin to acknowledge that he smells like the forest he's spent three weeks sleeping in. Like the smoke from the campfire and the moss on the ground, as well as the cheap soap from the inn he's spent the nights bathing in; the musky aroma turns you dazed and soft until you’re resembling nothing but body-temperature putty in his hands.

By the time one slips between your legs to make enough space for his head, you're already drunk on the scent and the path of kisses he’s paving down your stomach. The ends of his chestnut hair tickle your skin so pleasantly that you can’t help but giggle now.

“What's so funny?” His mouth is so close to your cunt that you can feel his warm exhale brush your clit now. Covered in arousal, the breath sends a shiver tumbling down your spine.

“You scared me,” you mumble softly as he places your legs on top of his shoulders and his rough hands find the back of your thighs so that he can manhandle you into position. Goodness, his touch feels so hot that it nearly makes your skin sizzle. “You should have called out, or something...”

“M’sorry. You smelled so good that it kind of messed me up... I couldn't think,” he admits, sounding like he actually means it this time. “How 'bout I fuck you with my tongue as an apology? Yeah, pretty?”

Oh, wow.

𝙎𝙃𝙄𝙆𝘼𝙈𝘼𝙍𝙐

Shikamaru feels it before he sees it.

He’s lying in bed on his side; with his back turned towards you the moment that first hitched sigh brushes his ear and your elbow nudges his shoulder blade seemingly by accident at first.

But accident or not, the brown-haired Nara still stirs awake in an instant at the touch. Parting his heavy eyelids feels like a chore he doesn’t wish to tend to at the moment - or any moment, whatsoever - but he still wills the bothersome weight away by fluttering them open and letting his pupils dilate in the dark as they help him take in his surroundings easier. 

The room is warm. It’s the middle of summer and shadows seep inside the space and dance over the walls only with the late hour which he was supposed to be spending in deep slumber. You’ve both kicked the thin covers off of your sweat-riddled bodies ages ago, he can see the duvet pooling at his feet and over the edge of the bed, but it does nothing with beating the hazy heat that’s dropped down upon you like a thick fog of sorts.

And yet; a certain kind of chill still manages to rush down the entire length of Shikamaru’s spine, despite that the room is so hot that it feels like you’re both stuck inside a fully-working oven. Because now, he feels your warm skin brush his own as the mattress dips deeper from the subtle tossing and turning you’re trying to accomplish, and he experiences that chill again as it trickles down his neck the moment your knee rests on his hip when you spread your legs wider apart.

The sensation rounds the curve of his side and nestles deep inside his gut now. The moment the realization sinks in, it is already taken the form of pure thrill.

You're being naughty.

And so, Shikamaru swallows harshly at the thought to cross his mind. He’s fully-awake now; alert and free from the fuzzy chains of sleep that have a tendency to hold his brain hostage on the norm. The spit he forces down his throat isn’t audible. Or so he thinks. 

Perhaps he’s just incapable of hearing it over the sound of his own racing heartbeat and the blood that’s rushing straight into his ears. It might as well be that.

But he can hear it now, too. These deep breaths that you’re attempting to inhale and exhale through your nose instead of your mouth. The occasional whisper of a naughty word and this lewd, wet sort of sound that doesn’t require a genius to comprehend what it actually is.

For once, he can't stay still anymore. So he sucks in a deep breath and feels your body freeze the moment he exhales that same inhale through his mouth. He groans with content; all deep and raspy whilst pretending to stretch his long limbs that are always so very tired, before he presses his palm flat against the mattress and uses the momentum to flip himself around.

His hair is down instead of being tied up in that signaturely spiky ponytail; the colour dark like ebony wood but smooth-looking like midnight silk. A strand of it sticks to his forehead as he looks at you through sleepy, hooded eyes - reminding you of a thin crack of void in the middle of the pale, porcelain-like surface that is his skin. You lick your lips as you stare at him in the dark now, your own eyes growing wide open.

He grins at you lazily as soon as the eye contact is made, barely showing you any teeth. Even the smile is enticingly droopy just like his entire demeanor tends to be. How enticing.

Still, you don’t say anything despite the warm grin, and Shikamaru doesn’t seem to mind it – just like he doesn’t mind most things that happen in his life. Your boyfriend is as easy-going as ever, and his voice is nothing but a low drawl as it reaches your ears; right after he purses his lips and blows the lock of hair from his face in a single puff, “Mm... What are you up to?”

God, you’re so tense because of the seemingly simple question he presents before you that it’s almost funny in a way. He can literally see the stiffness that overtakes your entire body in the way your jaw clicks shut, as well as the way you just lay there; all straight and still as a plank of wood nobody has bothered to pick up. Every breath you take is ragged. It makes your chest heave quite visibly in that white, thin tank top that you like to wear to bed on hot nights like these.

He can see your nipples poking against the light cotton. Just two pretty numbs that seem to harden underneath his keen eyes in the colour of rich coffee. Oh goodness, you’re adorable.

The smart-ass smirk that is forcing its way onto his lips because of it is hard to hide now. Especially as he adds a rather derisive, “Well?”

“Nothing,” you squeak out at long last, your voice the definition of flustered panic and the nervosity of getting caught. Fumbling with your hand which you’ve still got stuck underneath the waistband of your flimsy pyjama shorts, you’re attempting to ignore the heat of embarrassment that sears your face to almost a painful degree as you attempt to pull it out, out, out.

But Shikamaru works faster than you for once. Cool, slender digits wrap around your wrist the moment the waistband snaps back into place, and your hand becomes free. It’s dark inside the room, but he can still see the glimmer that coats your fingers because of the glow from the street light just outside his window. Can see the sticky arousal that is practically drooling down your finger pads now.

Oh, you really have been so very naughty, indeed.

And the silence is deafening. Your heart is ready to climb up your throat and just knock your front teeth out by this point.

After all, the moment his dark brow quirks in blatantly sinful amusement, you’re ready to bury yourself six feet under. Nothing but a mess of yelps and unfinished sentences begins to leave your mouth as you attempt to apologize and explain yourself for being so stupidly horny.

So much for being sneaky and subtle about this entire ordeal. You should have known better, and now you’re paying the price by listening to his smug chuckle and watching the mischievous glint start to appear in those sleepy eyes of his.

And Shikamaru; sleepy, lazy Shikamaru, listens for a while, just because it's fun. You're pure chaos - nearly teary-eyed, lips trembling, and so sweaty that your entire face is glowing as you beg him to forget about this entire thing. And then, when he's finally had enough of listening to your erratic pleas for forgiveness, he shuts you up by bringing your smaller fingers to his mouth and kissing each finger pad so softly, that it feels like a touch of a feather had just grazed your skin.

He makes the waterfall of apologies outright cease when he wraps his plush lips around one digit and strokes it with the tip of his tongue, then. Just barely there to be considered as present, the feeling of his warm saliva turns your breathing slightly irregular when he repeats the same action with another digit and just sucks them both inside his mouth not a moment later.

He's never done anything like this before. But to be fair: neither have you.

“Sh-Shikamaru,” you whisper his name, voice shaking like a leaf on the surface of a rowdy river, “wh-what are you-...? Nnh...”

“This doesn’t look like nothing to me, darling.” Musing like a curious cat at the shock that crosses your face as soon as his lips part from your fingers with another gentle kiss and flick of tongue, his voice resembles a purr, which you swear that you can feel vibrating inside your very skull. Especially as he turns your wrist to the other side gently, and shoves your fingers into your own mouth so that you can finish the job he’s started.

His lips are right next to your ear as he watches you do it; broad palm already sneaking underneath that tiny top he likes seeing you wear around him,

“And it doesn’t taste like nothing either, now does it?”

#naruto x reader #kiba x reader #shikamaru x reader #naruto uzumaki #kiba inuzuka #shikamaru nara #naruto uzumaki smut #naruto smut #kiba smut #shikamaru smut

[milarqui]

Scarlet Lady: Vanisher

Directory | Evillustrator

'Twas the second night after Evillustrator, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

Well, actually, Chloé Bourgeois was snoring hard enough to resemble a saw eating its way through a large pine. Not that she could hear herself.

There was also Tikki, who had her own refuge on a pillow over Chloé's dresser, sleeping, and perchance dreaming of being in her rightful place and possibly of cookies.

The window sinisterly creaked as it was pushed open from the outside.

And, suddenly... there was a third individual in the room.

“Heheheh,” a sugary voice giggled, sugary to the point of malice. “You won't see this one coming, Chloé.”

And then, the owner of the voice leaned back.

“AHAHAHAHAHA!” the voice laughed, evil pouring through every vowel and consonant.

And, from her pillow, an awakened kwami hid, scared of the sudden intruder – and unable to act, lest she blow Chloé's secret identity wide open.

----

VRR VRR

Chlóe blinked from underneath her eye mask as the cellphone vibration penetrated through her ears and into her sleepy mind, and she blindly reached out with one hand.

“Mmm... what?”

She pulled off the mask while checking the phone, and was shocked when she saw its contents.

7:50

Tuesday January 14

YOU'RE LATE

Rubbing her eyes out, and wiping the drool that had accumulated at the corner of her mouth, Chloé Bourgeois growled.

“Why the heck didn't Jean-Claude wake me up?” She tossed her eyemask aside and run to grab her clothes for the day. “He knows I don't do fashionably late. Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!”

In a matter of minutes, she was wearing a dress – fashionable, yet easy to put on in seconds – and had her shoes and purse of the day picked and in place.

“Honestly, I'm surrounded by incompetents,” she complained.

---

She sure likes the sound of her own voice, the voice hidden behind the mirror thought.

Not that that was a surprise.

----

“Settle down, class,” Mlle. Mendeleiev stated. “Since it's a quiz day, we won't be switching rooms.”

Only minor grumbling spread from the students: they had known they had a quiz today, but it was still bothersome to try to deal with them.

The door suddenly opened, hitting the wall with a resounding SLAM!

“AH!” Mylène screamed.

“OH MY GAWD! You will not believe my morning!” Chloé yelled as she entered, completely uncaring of her interruption of class. “Daddy called a staff meeting out of nowhere, so I didn't get breakfast! And my driver never showed up, so I had to walk!”

She huffed, and everyone else naturally remained silent as she spoke, clearly hanging on her words.

“It's like the world is against me!”

“Ahem,” the teacher said, ignoring the fact that she was still talking, and shut the door. “Anyway, let's get started.”

She then received a message on her cellphone.

“Class, we have an emergency broadcast from the Mayor.”

“Daddy?” Chloé asked, surprised, as her father showed up on screen. He seemed to be close to crying, and underneath him, read the words Chloé Bourgeois attaquée!

What?

“Please, citizens of Paris! If you know anything about my daughter's whereabouts, please step forward!”

“Huh?” It didn't make sense. “What's he on about, I'm right–”

“Wait, she's just not absent?” Kanté asked, and she turned around to notice no one was looking at her.

“I thought it was quiet today,” Kurtzberg said, clearly not caring about her.

“Ha!” the super liar laughed.

“What?! You idiots, I'm right here!” she yelled, top of her voice even.

But no one paid attention to her, even as she tried to go face to face with Adrikins.

“What, you still haven't figured it out, Chloé?”

“SHIT!” she shouted.

----

She had forced herself to remain hidden for as long as the Akuma remained in Chloé's room, hoping Chloé would return from wherever she was now, but the moment she left, it was obvious that Chloé was no longer here.

And whatever the Akuma had done to her...

… it rendered Chloé inaccessible.

So, she only had one choice left.

“I have to warn Master Fu!” she said, flying as fast as she could.

The Guardian was probably the only person who could help right now.

And, hopefully, Chat Noir would seek his support as well.

Because it was the only way they could avoid disaster this time.

----

In front of Chloé stood a girl that seemed to be made of Bohême crystal that had several tonalities as the light of the sun twisted about her. From her hair, to the tips of her very pointy feet – which reminded Chloé of that 'compass' thing Sabrina used to draw circles while doing her maths homework – it was all made of crystal, even looking symmetrical. The two things that stood out were her fingers – which seemed to be not attached to this girl's hand – and a brooch in the form of a flower, one that twigged at something in Chloé's mind.

“What... what are...”

“I'm Vanisher! An apt name, since it's what I did to you,” the Akuma said, and suddenly she smiled, and that smile also twigged at something. “No one can see or hear you. Like you 'vanished'! I was nice enough to 'vanish' your clothes so you could change, too.”

Vanisher then picked a piece of chalk with her floating fingers, and her smile turned malicious.

“After all, you can't interact with the real world... but I can.”

And quickly, she began to paint on the blackboard.

All of it unflattering drawings of her.

As an elephant.

As a moustached woman.

As a rat.

As a deer doing... unnameable things.

“HEY!” she yelled, angry.

“AHH!” someone shouted from behind her.

----

It seemed like the door forcefully opening with no one at the other side had not been the last poltergeist event of the day, because suddenly a piece of chalk had started to float and making funny drawings of Chloé, leaving the students somewhere between being scared and laughing.

“What is going on?!” Mlle. Mendeleiev asked, being unsure of what could cause something like this.

“A ghost?!” Nino suggested.

“An Akuma!” Adrien said. In this time and place, if something unnatural or really strange happened, it was likely the work of Hawkmoth and whoever he had hoodwinked into working for him.

“What kind of Akuma is that?!” Mlle. Mendeleiev insisted.

“One that tells the truth,” Lila said in a mocking tone, fistbumping Nathaniel, her desk partner. The boy was still smarting over the events from a few days earlier, so he celebrated anything that mocked Chloé.

Mlle. Mendeleiev sighed, holding her glasses.

“Okay, you know the drill. Class is cancelled.”

“Yay!” The class unanimously declared.

“I'm grading you twice as hard for the extra day!” she declared.

“AWW!”

Adrien paid no mind to the goings on as he ran out of the door. He had an Akuma to deal with!

----

André Bourgeois was a man on a mission!

That mission was to summon the aid of Paris' people and its heroes, in finding his beloved daughter!

Thus, he had called TVi to make an announcement, and now he stood in front of City Hall, speaking to a camera and journalist, as the onlookers filmed with their cellphones.

The further this went, the faster his daughter would be found, he was certain!

“To attack Chloé is to attack the Mayor, and therefore, Paris!” he strongly declared. He had a double image to show, the strong mayor and the caring father of a family!

Suddenly, everyone in front of him gasped, looking somewhere behind him, and he turned to see Chat Noir. Scarlet Lady wasn't with him, but he would take him, and he was certain she would show up – she had saved his Chloé when Roger was Akumatized, after all!

“I'll find the culprit, M. Bourgeois! I promise!” Chat Noir announced, and he gave him a bow.

“Oh, thank you, Chat Noir! I know you'll find mon trésor!” the Mayor said, giving a trembling smile. “Will Scarlet Lady be joining you?”

“Uh, not sure,” he honestly replied. “But I'll double my efforts in her place!”

Chat Noir couldn't help but feel as if someone was mocking him.

----

Done with mocking Chat Noir – which wasn't even worth the effort, since he didn't even know she was there, she turned away.

“Tell me anything you can, please,” she heard him ask Jean-who-cares.

“This is so annoying! Can't you bother someone else?!” she shouted, and suddenly she was shoved into the ground. “AH!”

“'Someone else'?”

She turned around on the ground, to see the Akuma standing over her, one of her pointy feet right about her stomach.

“Why would I go after 'someone else' … when you're the one who messed up, remember?”

“Impossible. I never mess up,” Chloé said, unable to understand what the Akuma was talking about.

For some reason, that made the Akuma angry.

----

“Mlle. was treating her friend Sabrina to lunch, to celebrate completing their physics project,” the butler told Chat Noir, remembering the events of the previous day.

Mademoiselle and Mlle. Raincomprix had been on the hotel lobby, thinking where they wanted to have their lunch. He had noted that Mlle. Raincomprix had been wearing a beret he knew Madmoiselle had bought just the other day.

That was when they found Nadja Chamack sitting at the lobby with Jagged Stone, the famous singer, one he knew Mademoiselle loved to listen to.

“Thanks for allowing me this exclusive interview about your new album, M. Stone!” the journalist said, as Jagged Stone kept his feet on the table.

“Jagged Stone!” Mademoiselle had exclaimed, something that M. Stone had clearly not liked at all, given his expression.

“Aw, man,” the singer had groaned, as Mademoiselle quickly rushed to sit next to the singer, even though even he could tell she was not invited.

“Nadja, as Scarlet Lady's BFF, I'm sure you'll want to interview me,” Mademoiselle had said, winking at the journalist... who seemed as out of her depth as M. Stone was with the sudden appearance of Mademoiselle.

“Huh?”

“Chloé, I'm your BFF, remember?!” Mlle. Raincomprix rushed to remind Mademoiselle, who only returned a most unkind look at Mlle. Raincomprix, before turning back to the journalist.

“Y-You know, we got mani-pedi's just yesterday!” Mademoiselle said, trying to laugh. He would not say it, but he knew it was false.

“You did not! We were working on our project!” Mlle. Raincomprix reminded Mademoiselle again, and Mademoiselle returned the same most unkind look at Mlle. Raincomprix.

As Mademoiselle run away from the couches, he still had time to hear what M. Stone said.

“That's the little psycho who almost poisoned me when I judged 'World's Greatest Chef'!”

The smile on the journalist's face, realizing that the Mayor's daughter had done something reprehensible, did not bide well for Mademoiselle's image.

Mademoiselle had remained silent after that, only to explode when she returned to her rooms.

“How could you embarrass me like that?!” she shouted at Mlle. Raincomprix.

“You embarrassed yourself! Didn't you learn anything from Lila?!” Mlle. Raincomprix replied, just as angry as Mademoiselle.

“Me and that liar are not the same!”

“Yes you are! You care more about your made-up friendship than about ours!”

That had seemed to cause something in Mademoiselle to snap.

“What friendship!? We are OVER!” she shouted, snatching the beret from Mlle. Raincomprix's head, who flinched.

“Ow!” Mademoiselle had hurt Mlle. Raincomprix in the process of taking the beret back.

“I don't want to see you! In fact, you should just disappear!” Mademoiselle finished, slamming her doors on Mlle. Raincomprix's face.

“Chloé!” Mlle. Raincomprix tried to say, but eventually she left, sad and angry in equal parts.

And that had been the last he had seen of the young lady.

----

“Thank you for your help!” Chat Noir told Jean, Chloé's butler, after he finished his tale, and Jean gave a bow.

“Of course, M. Noir,” he said, dignified, and Chat Noir waved before he made his way to an alley.

Well, he now had the victim and the cause of this situation. Now, he needed to find Scar so they could plan out how to track the Akuma and stop them.

However, when he called, just like the previous two times, she didn't pick up.

“Still no answer, why am I not surprised,” he grumbled. Seeing he had no leads right now, he didn't have much in the matter of options, so he had to do something else.

“Claws In,” he declared, and Adrien felt his costume vanish as Plagg came out of the Ring.

“Wohoo, this is a weird one!” the kwami declared, and Adrien picked a piece of cheese from its special pocket for Plagg to eat.

“Take your time, Plagg. We're gonna need some advice on this one,” Adrien replied, as Plagg joyfully (and messily) devoured the cheese.

----

“Daddy, I'm right here, pay attention to me!” she shouted, but it was as useful as telling Dupain-Cheng to stop tripping over herself. No one was looking at her! No one was p-paying any mind to her! Why didn't they turn to her?!?!

“Chloé! Where are you?!” her father yelled, ignoring that she was-s just behind her. “And all your clothes?! They were expensive!”

“EVERYONE, STOP IGNORING ME!” she shout-ted again.

She was ignored. Ignored. Ignored. Ignored.

----

Opening the door when Master Fu allowed him, Adrien quickly began to explain.

“Master Fu, I need some advi–” That was when he noticed that there was another kwami in the room – one that was red with black polka dots. “What is that.”

“Sugarcube!” Plagg joyfully exclaimed.

“Hello, Adrien,” the kwami said, slightly embarrassed. “I'm Tikki, the kwami of creation. Unfortunately, Scarlet Lady is unable to transform–”

And any kind of control he could muster just cracked to pieces.

“OH THAT'S JUST PERFECT!” he screamed. “Of course she can't help, she didn't help the last two Akumas, color me shocked!”

Meanwhile, Plagg's cat self showed up as he quickly began to groom Tikki with his tongue, purring all the way around her.

“Tikki, can't you just help from now on!?” Adrien shouted, ignoring the two kwamis.

“According to the rules, I have to say no,” Tikki replied, apologetically.

“DAMMIT!” Adrien yelled, kneeling on the ground before going into a fetal position, completely spent and breaking over how much he had had to deal with over the past few months – and the one time he could finally do something without dealing with Scar, he just learned he would be unable to hold onto it.

“Now, now, worry not. I have a plan,” Master Fu said in a calm voice, patting Adrien's head. “Just keep investigating the hotel. I'll send you help, so take Tikki with you. Oh, but do not use Lucky Charm. Cleansing Spell only.”

“Huh?” Adrien asked. “Why not? What if we need–”

“No, no,” Tikki interrupted. “He's right.”

She had already seen another Chat Noir getting buried under a zillion Lucky Charms.

She didn't care to repeat the experience.

----

“Hard to investigate when I'm not sure what I'm looking for...” Chat Noir muttered, with Tikki also looking around while hiding in his hair.

“Stupid cat, stay out of my room!” C-hloé yell-ed, forgett-ing once more no one w-as p-aying attention to HER.

----

The bell above the door dinged as a new customer entered.

“Bon aprés-midi, monsieur!” Sabine Cheng greeted the smiling man.

“Bonjour,” Master Fu replied, noting that young Marinette was aiding her parents by moving some buns on a platter.

Good. He had failed once in giving her a Miraculous.

He would not fail this time.

----

“Please... someone... pay attention to me!” Chlo-é begg-ed.

No-one had talk-ed to her. No one had loo-ked at her. She l-ived for at-tent-tion. Wh-y was no one doing as s-he s-a-i-d?

Behind Chloé, Vanisher laughed at her target's utter misery.

“HAHAHA! Oh, this is too perfect!” the Akuma said, enjoying Chloé's breakdown, as Hawkmoth spoke to her.

“I'm glad you're having fun, Vanisher. Now, it's time to honor our deal,” he pointed out, and Vanisher pulled out Chloé's phone.

“You're absolutely right, Hawkmoth.” Her smirk became malicious once again. “I just need to make a stir.”

Chloé shook in fear before her.

Yes, this will be fun.

----

After washing up, Marinette climbed up to her bedroom, wondering what she could do now. With classes cancelled, she had no homework to do, and she was up to date in all her projects.

“Thank you for helping, chérie!”

“No problem, Maman!” she said, before turning on her computer. Perhaps she could check if Chat Noir had finally stopped the Akuma?

However, as she turned to the news, she found Nadja Chamack with a serious face.

“... still no sign of Mlle. Bourgeois...”

“Sabrina hasn't turned up either...” she mused. Had Sabrina also been taken by this Akuma? Or was she the Akuma?

That was when she noticed something.

A box.

Wooden, hexagonal, very ornated and beautiful.

And most definitely not something she owned.

Much less something that was there when she left her room.

Someone had dropped this box here while she wasn't looking.

“What is this doing here...?” she wondered, carefully opening it to reveal a golden hair comb with nine teeth, topped with the stylized design of a bee. It was a very beautiful object, but she wasn't certain of why it was in her–

“Hello, My Queen!”

“WAH!”

She almost fell off her chair.

The one who had just spoken was a small creature that was floating at around her eyes' height. It shone with golden skin, which was covered in black stripes. Its little arms and feet were also black, and around its neck was a something that resembled a furry small scarf.

The most shocking feature, however, were its eyes, which had a deep blue color that resembled her own, only it was her sclera instead of the iris.

And the little creature was smiling widely.

“How may I please you, My Queen?” it asked again.

“My–! You! Wait!” She realized what the creature was. She had seen one like it – her, judging by the voice – before. “You... you're like Plagg, right?”

“I'm a kwami, yes. Pollen of the Bee Miraculous of Subjugation.” The kwami – Pollen – landed on her desk, next to the box. “You've been chosen to fight Hawkmoth.”

She felt her jaw drop.

“WHAT?! ME?!”

“You will help Chat Noir and Scarlet Lady defeat Akumas!”

Something clicked.

“I can help Chat Noir?” she asked, crouching to keep the little kwami at eye's height.

“Heehee!” Pollen giggled, as she considered the situation.

Chat Noir had begged her to stop helping fighting Akumas. And, as much as it had pained her, she had promised.

But... that was a promise Marinette Dupain-Cheng had made.

If she used this Miraculous, she would no longer be Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Picking the beautiful hair comb, she carefully hooked it on a side of her hair, and realized it had transformed: instead of gold, the teeth now seemed to be rose gold instead. Not much of a difference, but still noticeable.

“You're absolutely sure this is meant for me?” she asked, still doubting.

“Of course!” Pollen cheered up. “The Guardian chose you specifically!”

“And I can help...” Marinette replied, still thinking of the important part of how she could now help her Chat Noir, when her cellphone buzzed.

Picking it up, she saw Chloé had somehow sent a message to everyone in her contact list... or someone had. Because the message was an image of Chloé, clearly scared out of her mind, surrounded by petals and broken vases, as she tried to stop whoever was taking the photo from doing something bad.

“Looks like my help is needed sooner than I thought,” Marinette said. She could recognize this photo had been taken from Le Grand Paris' lobby.

She had the place. She had the time.

Now, she only needed the information.

“Pollen, tell me what I need to know!”

Pollen hummed, and began to speak.

----

Chat Noir had quickly arrived to the hotel lobby, but all he could find were broken vases, and yellow flowers destroyed, with their petals flittering about the ground as the air flow blew around them.

“The pictures were in the lobby, but no one's here!” he commented, mostly for Tikki's benefit, even if he was confused. “What's going on?”

“BEHIND YOU, STUPID CAT!” Chloé yelled, still forgetting that no one could hear her in this state.

He can't hear you or see me, Chloé! Vanisher gleefully thought, getting closer to the Black Cat Hero, silently walking even as the petals around her slightly moved. Chat Noir, who wasn't looking in that direction, didn't notice. He won't know what–

“CHAT NOIR, LOOK OUT!”

Above Chat Noir's head, a yellow and black object flew, tied to a rope, and as he turned, he saw it strike thin air, which swiftly transformed into a glass figure that had to be the Akuma.

“OW!” the Akuma shouted in pain.

“WHAT?!” Chat Noir shouted in shock.

“WHAT WAS THAT–!” Chloé shouted in bewilderment.

The object – a spinning top – flew into a black gloved hand, which quickly grasped it in one fluid movement.

“What the HECK?” Chloé yelled.

Black shoes with golden soles and furry black ankle bands.

Above them, golden leggings with two black stripes mid-thigh.

“A Bee...” Chat Noir noted.

A shirt that went from golden with a black stripe right under the ribs, to black with golden stripes across the neck and arms, and golden furry wristbands.

Hair held together in two thick pigtails, resembling a bee's abdomen.

“SUPERHEROINE?!” Vanisher shouted.

And, behind a black-and-gold domino mask... blue eyes that showed determination.

Protection.

Power.

Subjugation of her enemies.

“WHO ARE YOU?” the witnesses yelled.

----

Hawkmoth was stunned. He hadn't expected the arrival of yet another Miraculous wielder to the scene. And another who was linked to the heroes, no less.

As such, his usual control over his emotions slipped.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!” he shouted. Unfortunately, Nathalie heard him, and promptly reminded him that the one at the other end of the connection was a teenager.

“GABRIEL! LANGUAGE!”

----

“Careful, Chat Noir!” the Bee heroine said. “She can turn invisible!”

“TSK!” Frustrated at her main power being revealed, Vanisher promptly went invisible again. Knowing that a strike could come at any point, Chat Noir quickly went back-to-back with the newcomer, and both of them began to twirl their weapons to cut off any approach.

“So, you're the 'help' I was told about?” he asked, a bit skeptical.

“Yes! I can stun her if we can get close enough!” she replied.

“How do you plan on doing that?”

The Bee heroine looked around, and realized that the lobby still had multiple vases full of marigold flowers.

“I have a pretty good idea now,” she said, remembering how she had noticed Vanisher the first time. Quickly, she began to grab a vase after another, and threw flowers all over the floor, until there was nowhere that could be stepped on without disturbing one of the flowers. “There! Keep your eyes peeled!”

Chat Noir quickly began to look around for any sign of the Akuma, until he noticed some of the flowers, to his back and right, were moving – and it was clearly not the air doing so.

“THERE!” Quickly, he turned around, swinging his baton, and was rewarded when he struck something that wasn't there.

“AH!” Vanisher screamed, coming back into view and showing several cracks along her body.

“VENOM!” the Bee heroine said. Her spinning top spun above her hand, and a hole opened on it, allowing her to put her hand in. The spinning top, it seemed, could also be used as a short weapon for a touché.

And when the tip of the top struck Vanisher, she became paralyzed.

Like, completely paralyzed.

“Wow, I didn't think you meant literally stun,” Chat Noir commented, as she grabbed the brooch.

“What do we do with the Akuma?” she asked. Without Scarlet Lady, purifying the Akuma would be impossible.

“I'll take that~” Chat Noir said, breaking the brooch in two, and when the black butterfly came out, Tikki flew from within Chat Noir's hair and swallowed the butterfly whole.

“Mwaculush...” Tikki said, speaking through her full mouth. “BLADYBUB!”

And out of the kwami came a torrent of ladybugs.

A tsunami of ladybugs.

Many more than Scarlet Lady had ever created in one go.

Before they could react beyond shock, both heroes were pushed back, and ended up plastered against the windows, as the number of ladybugs was such that the lobby – the entire building, even – could barely contain them.

Had Master Fu been there, he would have informed them that this was why wielders were necessary – so as to act as a filter for how much power the Miraculous sent out. Without a wielder, all the kwami could provide was unrestricted demonstration of their power; in Tikki's case, it was unrestricted creation. Such as now.

Still, they did their job, and after a few moments every sign of the fight between heroes and Akuma had gone. Chloé was restored to reality, and Sabrina became deakumatized.

----

Sabrina woke up. The last thing she could remember was her anger and pain as she returned home. She had known the moment would come, but it had still been a shock when Chloé hurt her and told her to disappear just because she was trying to keep her from being attacked like Lila had been.

And now, she was back in Le Grand Paris and its lobby, but this time...

“Huh? What happened?” she wondered, as she looked around. “So many ladybugs...?”

Had something happened to Scarlet Lady?

“YOU HAPPENED!”

It was Chloé, and she looked angry.

“You're such a wuss you became an Akuma and attacked your best friend!”

It was so easy for someone to bring Chloé's anger out that Sabrina barely cared anymore.

But this time... this time she was angry, too.

She had warned Chloé that she was in her last chance.

And Chloé had wasted it.

“You are not my friend,” she declared.

“Excuse you, I am the one breaking up with you!”

Even in this, she still thought it was all about herself.

“Either way, we're not friends, stupid!”

They had been friends – or 'friends' – for most of a decade.

Sabrina thought it would hurt more.

But, instead... it felt liberating.

----

In the depths of his lair, Hawkmoth thundered.

His Akuma had that Cat in her eyesight. She had nearly struck him down!

Instead...

“This was hard enough when it was just that damn Scarlet Lady, but now they have a bee with a one-hit K.O.?! I'm getting that damn comb!”

From her seat, Nathalie rolled her eyes.

Yeah, because you have such a good track record with that.

----

Marinette extended her arm, fist closed, ready to celebrate with Chat Noir for defeating the Akuma.

“Bien joué!” she exclaimed.

However... Chat Noir didn't bump a fist with her. He was holding a sick Tikki on his hand.

“So, what do I call you, New-Bee?” he asked.

“My stomach,” poor Tikki said.

“Oh! Um...” she said. She hadn't come up with a name for herself! Looking around, she saw the marigold flowers she had used to help defeat Vanisher, and realized it was good. “How about Marigold?”

Chat Noir's answer was nothing like she had expected.

“Well, thanks for the help, Marigold,” he said, waving goodbye with a serious expression as he left.

She felt her heart breaking just a bit from how dismissive he was of her. She had been looking forward to finally helping Chat Noir as a heroine... and he had barely acknowledged her.

“Sure...” she whispered, as several journalists suddenly entered the lobby, cameras and microphones in hand.

“MISS!”

“Can we have a word?!”

----

Tikki had – just barely – managed to drag herself back to Chloé's room, where she laid on a pillow, knowing that if she got jostled again, she was going to have another episode.

And it wasn't going to be as pretty as the ladybugs flitting about the room.

“TIKKI!” And, of course, who else? “Where've you been?! There's ladybugs everywhere, what did you do?!”

Yeah, it didn't look like Chloé was up to actually be thankful for being rescued from an Akuma.

“Please, Chloé. Shut up. Ughhhhh.”

----

Night had fallen over Paris, and the word on the news was of the new heroine that had stepped up to help rescue Chloé Bourgeois in the eleventh hour.

And, in the highest room at the Dupain-Cheng's house, a girl and her kwami were also involved in a discussion about it.

“Marigold is a perfect name!” Pollen declared. “'Herb of the sun', representing passion and creativity! But also often cruelty and grief – traits often associated with revered queens!”

“Does it really?” Marinette asked, feeling chagrined over the unknown aspects of her chosen hero name. “We really need to talk about this 'Queen' thing.”

Someone tapped on the trapdoor to her terrace. This time of the day – or night – and in that place, there was only one person who could be it.

“Pollen, hide the comb!” she said, taking off her Miraculous and handing it to the kwami, before she climbed the stairs to find the expected.

“Chat Noir?”

“Hey, princess.”

Marinette felt herself blushing as she climbed out into the terrace and approached her hero.

“W-What are you doing here?” she asked, surprised.

“I'm here to thank you,” he replied.

“Thank me?”

Had he somehow divined she was Marigold?

Instead, he pulled out a peach rose from behind his back, and offered it to her.

“You kept your promise and stayed out of the Akuma fight,” he said, gently smiling.

“O-Oh, right!” She picked her flower, and, pulled her hair behind an ear. She smiled back even as the blush threatened to overtake her face. “I was a little worried, but then that Bee hero showed up to help! Lucky, huh?”

“I guess.”

The dismissive answer felt like something was jabbing her in the head, like in those manga books Adrien liked (she had been curious about what he spoke about, don't judge her!).

You guess!? she thought.

“Something wrong with the new girl, Chat Noir?” she asked, reminding herself that she shouldn't punch her hero in the face.

“Not really, it's just...” He looked melancholic now, as he looked outside, towards the city. “Between dealing with Scarlet Lady for so long, and that... disaster with Volpina... I just can't let myself rely on anyone.”

“Oh, Chaton...”

Her heart instantly melted. She should have realized it: after dealing with Scarlet Lady for four months already, with no help except that of herself as a civilian, it was natural that her Chat Noir felt apprehensive about someone else showing up out of nowhere! She had to reassure him!

“I understand, but please try to give her a chance,” she gently said. “She seems to genuinely want to help.”

“Hm...” he mumbled, but then he picked her hand. “If she's got your recommendation, I suppose I can give her a shot.”

And he kissed her hand, just as gently and gallantly as ever. Now, she just needed to show him that his faith would not be in vain.

----

Marinette realized, when Pollen mentioned being hungry, that she didn't know what to give her. From what Plagg had mentioned in the little time they had had together, each kwami had a particular food they needed for recharging after using their special power. Plagg's was cheese. But, Pollen's?

“So, what do you like to eat? Honey? Sugar?” she asked, pulling out a sugar cube. “F-Flower pollen?”

“Chili peppers!” Pollen announced. Marinette blinked.

“Huh?!”

----

Chloé entered the classroom, ready to put the mess from the previous day behind. She was back as this stupid class's Queen!

“Hello, peasants! I have returned, safe and sound!” she declared.

Nobody cared.

“They finished so quickly!” Alya said, showing the others something in her phone.

“Did they catch her name?” Nathaniel asked.

“I hope she comes back!” Rose said.

“Uh, hellooo!” Chloé interrupted, waving a hand. “I said I'm back, you know!”

“Oh, Chloé,” Alya said, and Chloé was ready to bask on – “Got any info on the new heroine?”

“NO!” Why should she have any information on a wannabee hogger! “Who cares about her?!”

Just then, Marinette entered the classroom, and Alya's sharp eyes immediately zeroed in on something new, hanging from one side of her friend's hair.

“Whoa girl! New bee accesory?! Does that mean–!”

“O-ho!” Marinette interrupted, and carefully took something out of her bag and laid it on her table. “I was so inspired by the new hero that I tried resin casting! Take your pick!”

On the table lied an assortment of jewelry and accessories, all of them following the same theme as the hair comb in Marinette's hair, and the girls quickly turned to it.

“Thanks, Marinette!” Rose said, eyeing the bracelet.

“These look so good!” Mylène said as she tried the headband.

Ha! I stayed up all night, but now no one will suspect me! Marinette thought. Her eyes felt sandy, and she knew she had eyebags under her eyes, but this was perfect.

----

Meanwhile, Nino met Adrien at the school's gate, and he pondered something.

“Hey, mec, your ring kinda looks like–”

“I've had this ring for years, Nino. Years,” Adrien replied, flat out lying to his friend.

----

Lila was the last to try and approach Marinette, who still had two bee-themed objects over the table.

“Which one would you like, Lila?” Marinette brightly asked, offering her to choose between a pendant and a wristband.

However, Lila was far more concerned with the people behind Marinette – both of whom were giving her very stinky eyes.

Yeah, she was still far from getting forgiven by those two.

And she also said goodbye to her crush on Adrien. Given his dislike of her, she knew now that there was no way for her to get him to return the crush.

“Ah, um, whichever is fine,” she accepted, and Marinette gave her the pendant. It was very cute.

At least, Marinette was more accepting of her.

----

“Where'd this wanna-bee even come from?!” she asked Tikki, incensed that the Bee girl had stolen her rightfully earned spotlight.

“You were a late/no-show to the last 3 Akumas. Chat Noir needs back up, you know,” Tikki replied, giving Chloé a look of disappointment.

“It's not my fault Akumas are jealous of me!”

Yeah, she still missed the obvious.

“Pretty sure jealousy's not the problem,” Tikki replied. Chloé turned her head.

“Hmph!” she said, dismissively. “Whatever, as long as she remembers who the true Queen is!”

“You're supposed to be equals. Chat Noir too.”

Chloé ignored Tikki. She was good at that. At ignoring truths, that is.

----

“Um...” Sabrina asked, and Ivan looked up from his phone to see the girl standing there. “Is it okay if I sit here?”

Iva noted that it must have been quite the fallout if Sabrina was moving to the other side of the classroom, just to avoid Chloé.

“Whatever,” he replied, and he scooted over.

Sabrina was quite happy about it.

He was quite happy that this let him sit closer to Mylène.

Chloé, watching from the front, realized that Sabrina was going to stay back there. And she only had one thing in mind.

Urgh, does this mean I have to take my own quiz?!

----

Riposte

@zoe-oneesama Hope you liked the entrance of the new heroine!

@msweebyness Here you are!

So, Season 3 begins, and with it comes Scar's redeeming replacement, Marigold! Let her work be prosperous and lead to camaraderie (and more) with Chat Noir!

You may have noticed that the fragments with "vanished" Chloé, as well as Vanisher's dialogue, get a few extras. With Chloé's narration, I wanted to reflect how she slowly breaks down because she's in her own personal hell, a place where everyone ignores her. As for Vanisher, I wanted to reflect how eerie her voice would sound, particularly since she's meant to be 'living' in two worlds at the same time.

As for Marigold's debut, I chose to describe her from her feet up (instead of head down, as shown in the comic) because I feel it makes for more impact when ended with Marigold's determination engraved in her expression.

Hope you liked this, and don't hesitate to comment, like, and republish! Thank you!

#scarlet lady the novel #scarlet lady #scarlet lady is better than canon #milarqui #fanfiction #long post #marinette dupain cheng #marigold #chat noir #adrien agreste

[lovenikkicosplayqueen]

Cosplay Nikki #467→707 (Mystic Messenger)

*Requested by anonymous *Outfit details under the cut!

Outfit details

•Sporty Teenager (Hair) •Yellow Alert (Jacket) •Flaming Uniform (Top) •Original Jeans (Bottom) •Nipped Boots•Brown (Shoes) •Uncommon Headphones (Necklace) •Consonance Cellphone (Left handheld) •A Pleasant Surprise (Face) •Warm Smile (Makeup)

#yea ik his hair is bad but i dont have any alternatives soo #love nikki #love nikki dress up queen #love nikki cosplay #707 #mystic messenger #Saeyoung Choi

[cosplayinlovenikki]

Cosplay #500

Mavis Dracula Loughran (Hotel Transylvania Series)

Outfit details undercut

Hair: Gravel•Black

Dress: Composer

Coat: Maple Sugar Cloak

Hosiery: Black n White ♥Minnie

Shoes: Undying Dream

Makeup: Moth to Fire

Gloves: Midnight Demon

Left Handheld: Consonance Cellphone

Foreground: Evil Tree

Head Ornament: Ominous Bat

#love nikki #hotel transylvania #mavis dracula loughran

[katvslanguages]

Korean particles

Noun와. Noun 이랑

Noun과. Noun랑

Noun하고

All these particles express and. 와 and 과 are used in writing while 이랑,랑 and 하고 are colloquial. This is not strict, it can be both ways.

와 and 랑 are used when the noun ends in a vowel

과 and 이랑 are used when the noun ends in a consonant

하고 is boss, it can be used whether the noun ends in a consonant or vowel.

빨색 바지와 치마를 샀습니다.

I bought red pants and a skirt( the skirt is also red, does this stress it enough or is there a way to emphasize that, please let me know)

방에 누구 있습니까? Who are in the room?

엄마랑 아빠 있습니다

My mom and dad

내 핸드폰이랑 열쇠를 어디 넣었어요?

When is my cellphone and keys?

2. Mean together with. To have this meaning 같이 and 함께 normally follows the particle.

제 친구랑 같이 있어요.

I'm with my friend

이랑,랑 and 하고 can be added to the second noun. This cannot be done with 와 and 과.

엄마랑 아빠랑 같이 있어요

I'm with (my) mom and dad.

As usual corrections are welcome. Thanks

#language learning #langblr #learn korean #korean grammar #korean langblr #language study #Korean particles #self studying #languages #korean

[raleighcarrera]

29. Best Drunken Night vs Worst Drunken Night for Raleigh x MC perhaps? 🥺

best vs. worst prompts / 29. best drunken night vs. worst drunken night

the worst time 

“oh my god.” her voice is hushed -- awed, really, as she glances around the space they’ve closed themselves in with eyes so wide they feel likely to bug out of her head at any moment. “this is -- we’re in -- is this ariana spielman’s closet?”

cadence’s head whips around just in time to catch the disinterested, almost bored shrug of raleigh’s shoulders. “guess so.”

the door he’s leaning against is vibrating with the bass from the music blasting from downstairs. one of the silver buttons on raleigh’s jacket clanks against the wood loudly. 

“she has, like -- seventy birkin bags,” she breathes, slowly shaking her head as she takes in the expansive wall of purses to her right. “i can’t believe i’m in here. i can’t believe we’re even in her house.”

“i hate los angeles,” raleigh mumbles, pushing off from the wall and strolling over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. “this party sucks.”

admittedly, the party did sort of suck, but they’d had enough free drinks and free food to make the evening tolerable, even if the crowd at ariana’s house was mostly made up of the sort of c-list celebrities who were desperate to document everything on social media and tried to shove their cellphones in raleigh’s face every time he started mixing a drink.

it was never like this, at home in new york. most of their friends were cool and normal and while their parties were always the sort of events that kept them up until dawn they’d tended to be more low-key, lately, minimizing the amount of attention they got during what was supposed to be their down time.

out in LA everyone was looking for their fifteen minutes. so drinking downstairs with the rest of the crowd wasn’t just hanging out like it was in new york; it was a performance in and of itself. people were watching them, their thumbs already poised over a blank tweet.

she didn’t blame raleigh for disliking it. she disliked it, too. that was why she’d suggested finding some place they could be alone and let him drag her up here -- into ariana spielman’s beautiful, enormous closet.

cadence squeezes her hands affectionately on raleigh’s arms where they’re looped around her. “we can’t hook up in here.”

the sigh he expels into her ear is loud and exasperated. “why not?”

cadence lifts a hand to point up at the ceiling. “she has cameras.”

the pointed silence from behind her leads her to believe that raleigh doesn’t take issue with that as much as she does. “raleigh.”

“okay, okay. i’ll save it for the hotel. just -- i need a few minutes before we go back down there.”

she spins in his arms to look at his face. raleigh looks tired, in the awful in-between of drunk but not drunk enough. her expression softens.

ever-so-delicately, she leans in and presses her lips to the tip of his nose. raleigh sighs, tightening his grip on her. 

“you know,” cadence murmurs, “there was probably once a time where i wouldn’t have been able to drag you out of there even if i did want to have sex in ariana spielman’s closet.”

raleigh rolls his eyes. “untrue,” he argues, “i’d leave any party, anywhere, any time... for even five minutes alone with you.” there’s a beat where she tries to stifle her smile and he rolls his shoulders, pursing his lips before continuing, “but i know what you mean. i guess i just -- don’t see the appeal in playing along with all this fake shit.” his eyes focus on her face slowly, some of the cloud brought on by all the tequila they’d had downstairs lifting. “not anymore.”

she bounces up onto her tip-toes to kiss him, swallowing the drunk giggles that are threatening. if they weren’t going to commit, they probably should have drank a little bit less -- she’s wobbly and unsteady on her feet in a way that’s going to make their flight home tomorrow miserable, but not drunk enough to actually be having any fun at this party that is, admittedly, incredibly fucking lame.

raleigh’s hands squeeze her hips one last time before he pulls away. “we should probably go be seen for a little while longer, huh?”

her mouth twists sympathetically. “yeah. but we can leave in an hour.”

“here’s hoping.”

they shuffle back to the closed door together, though when raleigh reaches out for the handle it doesn’t budge, holding firmly in place. he frowns, jiggling the knob.

“what’s wrong?” she asks, blinking slowly, her brain struggling to process what’s happening.

raleigh’s frown deepens into a scowl. “i think it’s locked.”

“from the outside? no.” pushing his hand away, she tries the door, too, eyes widening when it holds resolutely still. “oh my god.”

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he says, stepping away with a groan. “can we call someone?”

“i don’t have her number. do you?”

she squeezes his shoulder as he pulls out his phone, mumbling to himself. her head is still swimming, but even she can understand that lately it feels like neither of them can quite catch a break -- there’s always something.

and she definitely had higher hopes for their weekend in LA, and even tonight. she’d expected this party to be a chance to get away from it all and let loose, not be some place where they had to constantly keep looking over their shoulders for cameras.

“maybe it’s a sign we should just stay up here,” she suggests, nuzzling her face into raleigh’s jacket. 

the hum he gives in response is equal parts interested and annoyed. “don’t tempt me.”

the best time

they’re definitely past capacity on their penthouse.

everywhere she looks there’s wall-to-wall people dancing and drinking, laughing and shouting. the floor beneath her feet feels like it’s shaking from how loud the music is.

raleigh’s standing on the countertop in their kitchen. his eyes light up when he sees her.

raising his voice to be heard above all the excitement, he screams, “cadence! come up here!”

the crowd parts to clear a path for her, cheering as she makes her way over. climbing up onto the counter in her miniskirt is far from the most graceful thing she’s ever done, especially after the bottle of wine she’d had at dinner and the four or five or forty-five martinis raleigh had poured her, but she manages, and soon she’s squeezed into the space beside their cabinets with her boyfriend and he’s got one strong arm slung warmly across her shoulders while the other lifts the bottle of dom in his left hand high enough that the top smacks into their kitchen ceiling.

“a toast!” raleigh declares, to the delight of the crowd below them. she tilts her head to grin at him and laughs loudly when raleigh glances at her out of the corners of his eyes and then grins back, wide and goofy like the both of them are in on the same private joke. “to the beautiful, phenomenal, exceptional, fantastic, talented --”

“jesus christ, raleigh.”

“ -- brilliant,” he continues, even more loudly, “can i get a drum roll please? thank you, visionary, otherworldly, and of course, devastatingly sexy vinyl award winning cadence dorian!”

he doesn’t give her a chance to bury her face in her hands like she so badly wants to. as soon as people start to cheer, he leans down and presses his lips forcefully against hers, smacking a loud, almost aggressive kiss onto her lips. 

then he shoves the bottle of champagne in her face and forces her to tilt her head back to accept the drink he’s quite literally pouring down her throat, her laughter giving way to coughs that make him laugh, too, the broad palm he’d had settled on her shoulder slowly making its way down her back to rest on the curve of her ass.

“to cadence!” roars someone again from the floor, and as everyone pounds their feet harder, she looks back to raleigh, flushed and grinning while he drains what’s left in the bottle and immediately switches it out for another. 

“speech!” raleigh crows into her ear, “speech, speech, speech --”

“oh my god, thank you everyone!” her palm claps over his mouth and doesn’t move even when his tongue licks across her hand slowly, back and forth and back again. “it means so much to celebrate with all of you tonight. thanks so much for coming and for all your support and -- remember that anything that happens here tonight was all raleigh’s fault, okay?”

the volume on the music increases as the crowd turns their attention back to dancing. raleigh slips both his arms around her waist from behind and presses up against her, somehow managing to stay on-beat with the swing of his hips despite the fact that he’s so drunk he can barely stand. she laughs as she rocks back against him, then laughs louder when he groans lowly into her ear.

“don’t think that you can get away with murder just ‘cause this party is for you, okay?” 

the words are said so quietly she almost misses them, each consonant soft and slurred. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“yeah, right,” raleigh counters, the sharp bark of his laugh punctuated by the way he presses forward firmly, the hard line of his body shiver-inducing even through the layers of fabric between them. “you think i’m just gonna let you get away with that? i’m --”

“you should at least get down, if you’re going to do that.” cadence blinks, glancing down to see zadie screaming up at the both of them. “we don’t all need to see you dry hump each other.”

raleigh’s arms tighten around her before she can even think about moving, though her face feels hot beyond just what the alcohol should’ve done to her. “hey,” he calls back, “it’s her party.”

she wiggles down to her knees, plucking the mostly full bottle of dom from raleigh’s hand and holding it out to zadie with her eyebrows arched. “call it even?”

“totally,” she agrees, taking the bottle from cadence and departing back into the living room with barely a wave over her shoulder. 

cadence moves the rest of the way down and slides to the edge, letting her legs dangle off the counter. within moments raleigh is beside her, gangly limbs tangled around her again near-immediately. “are you having fun?”

“best time of my life,” she answers honestly, though that was how parties with raleigh always felt -- like he was in constant competition with himself to outdo their last evening out together. “thanks for making this so special for me.”

“i’d do anything for you.” his voice is suddenly oddly serious, out of sorts with the playful mood he’s been in. she blinks at him, then laughs when he shatters the stillness as quickly as it’d come by ducking back in to steal another kiss. 

raleigh jumps off the counter abruptly, before she can deepen the kiss to something more extreme, and hooks her legs around his waist from behind. “c’mon, popstar,” he directs, before she can question what he’s doing, and as if on autopilot, her body swings onto his back so he can carry her, her hands finding his hair and her lips spreading into a delighted smile. “let’s go get you the kudos you deserve, eh?”

#raleigh carrera #platinum #raleigh carrera x mc #cadence dorian #raleigh x mc #raleigh x cadence #myfic #long post #choicesarehard #ok i know this is no raleigh serenading a fake-sick goldfish but i still hope you like it ❤️ #thanks for sending these queen

[gwendolynlerman]

Introduction to linguistics

Language relations

Etymology and language origin

Etymology is the study of the history of words, their origin, and how their forms and meanings change over time. For languages that have a long written history, etymologists use texts to understand how words were used during earlier periods and when they entered a given language. Etymologists also use comparative linguistics to reconstruct information about languages when no direct information is available.

New words come into being in a language through three basic mechanisms: borrowings, word formation, and sound symbolism.

Borrowing

Borrowing means words are taken from other languages. Words borrowed this way are called loanwords. It is extremely common: over half of all English words have been borrowed from French and Latin, and loanwords from Mandarin Chinese are important parts of Japanese, Korean, and Vietnamese.

Loanwords are usually adapted to fit the phonology and spelling of the language they are borrowed into. English words in Japanese are often barely recognizable. For example, バレーボール (barēboru) comes from English and means “volleyball”, but -v- and -l- have been replaced by -b- and -r- because these sounds do not exist in Japanese, and a vowel has been added at the end because Japanese words cannot end in any consonant but -n. These changes were not deliberate: barēboru is what happens naturally when Japanese speakers say “volleyball” according to the pronunciation rules of their language.

A loanword can have a different meaning than it had in the original language: the Russian word портфель (portfel’; “briefcase”) comes from the French portefeuille, which means “wallet”. Pseudo-anglicisms are common in many languages: Handy means “cellphone” in German, which is only indirectly related to the meaning of “handy” in English.

Words can also be reborrowed, that is, a word can go back and forth between languages. For example, the French word cinéma was taken from the Greek word κίνημα (kínima), which means “movement”, later Greek reborrowed the same word from French and respelled it: σινεμά (sinemá).

Word formation

Languages have lots of ways of creating new words. One of them is derivation, i.e., creating a new word on the basis of an existing word, and another one includes compound words, which are formed by putting words together.

Other ways include acronyms (“radar” comes from “radio detection and ranging”), clipping (“ad” from “advertisement”), and portmanteaus (“brunch” = “breakfast” + “lunch”).

Sound symbolism

Words such as “click” are examples of onomatopoeia.

Everything about languages evolves: pronunciation, grammar and words. New words appear, old words disappear, and existing words change.

Knowing the history of words is relatively easy when old written documents exist, but when they do not, the comparative method allows linguists to reconstruct ancient languages by comparing their descendants. One key feature of language evolution is regular sound change: changes in pronunciation do not affect random words but the entire language. As an example, the ancestor of modern Slavic languages had a -g- sound. It was maintained in most languages, but in some of them, such as Czech and Slovak, it gradually changed to -h-: the word for “mountain” is gora in Russian and Slovene, but hora in Czech and Slovak.

Sound changes are not always this easy, because sometimes sounds are modified only in particular contexts (at the end of a word, before a vowel, etc.), but this is the general principle that linguists use to compare languages and reconstruct their ancestors.

Thousands of years of evolution can change words so much that they are unrecognizable: the Proto-Indo-European *ḱm̥tóm (the symbol * is used to indicate that a word is reconstructed and has never been found in a text), which means “hundred”, turned into such different words as šimtas in Lithuanian, sto in Slavic languages, cent in French, صد (sad) in Persian, and εκατό (ekató) in Greek.

Reconstructing languages is made more difficult by borrowings and by the fact that the meanings of words change: “decimate” now means “destroy almost completely”, but originally meant “kill one in ten”, and the French word travail (“work”) comes from the Latin tripalium (an instrument of torture).

#langblr #lingblr

[trangs-studyblr]

Quoting Different Endings: ~자고, ~(으/느)냐고, ~(으)라고

~자고: I said “Lets…”

You can add ~자 to the stems of verbs to make a suggestion.

밥을 먹자 = Let’s eat (rice) 내일 공원에 가자 = Tomorrow, let’s go to the park

By attaching ~고 to ~자, you can quote these types of sentences.

아빠가 밥을 먹자고 했어 = Dad said “Let’s eat” 여자친구가 공원에 가자고 했어요 = My girlfriend said “let’s go to the park”

Quoting Questions

~(느)냐고 (Verbs)

When quoting a clause/sentence that is a question, a different quoting addition should be used. You cannot use the regular quoting addition here.

“I asked him what he likes” = 그가 무엇을 좋아한다고 물어봤어요

When a quoted clause/sentence ends with a verb, the addition of ~느냐고 should be used to indicate that the quote is a question.

그가 무엇을 좋아하냐고 물어봤어요 = I asked him what he likes / I asked him “what do you like?”

It is also possible to quote a question that was asking about the past or future.

우리 아빠는 나한테 어디 가느냐고 물어봤어 = My dad asked me where I am going 우리 아빠는 나한테 어디 갔느냐고 물어봤어 = My dad asked me where I went 우리 아빠는 나한테 어디 가겠느냐고 물어봤어 = My dad asked me where I will go

Of course, it is also possible to change the tense of 물어보다 (or 묻다) to indicate that you will ask in the past, present or future.

저는 여자 친구한테 뭐 먹었느냐고 물어봤어요 = I asked my girlfriend what she ate 저는 여자 친구한테 뭐 먹었느냐고 물어보고 있어요 = I am asking my girlfriend what she ate 저는 여자 친구한테 뭐 먹었느냐고 물어볼 거예요 = I will ask my girlfriend what she ate

Korean dictionaries indicate that ~느냐고 is the correct addition when quoting a question that ends in a verb. However, Koreans will be more inclined to say that ~냐고 (without ~느~) looks and sounds more natural.

지진이 어떻게 생기(느)냐고 물어봤어요 = I asked how earthquakes happen/occur 누가 그렇게 말했냐고 물었어요 = I asked who said so / They asked who said such a thing 저는 몇 살이냐고 물어보는 게 제일 싫어요 = I hate it the most when people ask me how old I am 몇 살이냐고 물어봤어요 = (Someone) asked me how old I was 저도 가야 되냐고 물어봐 주세요 = Please ask them if I have to come along, too

I suggest using the simple ~냐고 which is the form that is more commonly said by Koreans, but keep in mind that the official usage is ~느냐고.

~(으)냐고 (Adjectives)

When a quotation ends with an adjective, the addition of ~(으)냐고 should be used to indicate that it is a quoted question. ~으냐고 is added to adjectives ending in a consonant (except ㄹ) and ~냐고 is added to adjectives ending in a vowel (or if the final consonant is ㄹ).

저는 친구한테 그 역자가 예쁘냐고 물어봤어요 = I asked my friend if that girl was pretty 아빠한테 편안하냐고 물어봤어요 = I asked my dad if he is/was comfortable/relaxed 너의 며느리가 아름다우냐고 물어보고 싶어 = I want to ask if your daughter-in-law is beautiful 냉동실이 왜 이렇게 추우냐고 물어봤어요 = I asked why the freezer is/was so cold 이런 반팔이 집에 많으냐고 물어봤어 = I asked if there were many of these types of t-shirts at home

As with verbs, the usage that you will hear in everyday speech/writing and the official usage is sometimes different. In speech, Koreans often eliminate the ~으~ that should be included if the adjective ends in a vowel.

이런 반팔이 집에 많으냐고 물어봤어

이런 반팔이 집에 많냐고 물어봤어

Officially (1) is the correct form, but you will often see and hear (2) used. Most Koreans wouldn’t be able to say which one is correct – or would assume that both are correct.

싶다 is also an adjective and therefore the above rules apply here as well.

그는 뭐 먹고 싶으냐고 물어봤어 = He asked what do you want to eat 그 사람이 나한테 앞날에 뭐 하고 싶으냐고 물어봤어 = That person asked me what I want to do in the future

Depending on the usage of 있다 and 없다, they can be adjectives or verbs, and conjugations are applied as such. However, in this usage, regardless of if they are being used as a verb or adjective, the verb-addition of ~느냐고 should be attached when quoting a question with 있다 or 없다. You can treat this as an irregular to this rule.

Just like with other verbs, 있느냐 and 없느냐 are often spoken/written as 있냐 and 없냐 and would be seen as correct by Koreans.

나는 그에게 수여할 수 있(느)냐고 물어봤어 = I asked him if he could swim 아빠한테 엄마를 왜 함부로 대하고 있(느)냐고 물어봤어요 = I asked dad why he is treating mom disrespectfully 동생한테 환경을 왜 파괴하고 있(느)냐고 물어봤어 = I asked my brother why he is/was destroying the environment 그 숙녀가 남의 눈을 피하고 싶어서 우연히 호텔을 찾아서 혹시 잠깐 들어갈 수 있(느)냐고 물어봤어요 = The lady wanted to avoid other people(‘s eyes), so she fatefully found a hotel and asked if she could go inside

Quoting Questions with 이다

As with adjectives, when a quotation ends with 이다, the addition of ~(으)냐고 is added to 이다. Because the stem of 이다 is always 이 (i.e. always ends in a vowel) the addition of ~냐고 is always added and we never need to worry about the ~(으).

As usual, if the noun that 이다 is attached to ends in a vowel, ~이~ can be eliminated. If the noun ends in a consonant, 이 must be included.

저는 그 사람이 의사(이)냐고 물어봤어요 = I asked if that person is a doctor 저는 그 사람이 우리 선생님이냐고 물어봤어요 = I asked if that person is our teacher

이다 can be used with question words, such as 누구, 뭐, 어디 and 언제. ~냐고 can also be attached to these words when used with 이다.

방학이 언제(이)냐고 물어봤어요 = I asked when vacation is 그곳이 어디(이)냐고 물어봤어 = I asked where that place is 그것이 뭐(이)냐고 물어봤어요 = I asked what that thing is 그 사람이 누구(이)냐고 물어봤어 = I asked who that person is

More examples of ~냐고 being used with 이다:

그 신사가 누구냐고 물어봤습니다 = I asked who this gentlemen is/was 저는 친구한테 한국우로 이사하고 싶은 이유가 뭐냐고 물어봤어요 = I asked my friend ‘what is the reason you want to move to Korea?’ 제가 점원에게 그 핸드폰이 좋은 핸드폰이냐고 물어봤지만 그는 모른다고 했어요 = I asked the salesperson if that cellphone is good, but he said that he didn’t know 저 학교를 다니는 학생들이 똑똑한 학생들이냐고 물어봤어요 = He asked if the students who attend that school are smart students

Also notice that by adding ~(이)냐고 to 이다, you can ask questions in sentences that use the ~ㄹ 것이다 future tense conjugation.

나는 그들에게 결혼식에 갈 거냐고 물어봤어 = I asked if they were going to go to the wedding 저는 그한테 어디 갈 거냐고 물어봤어요 = I asked where he is going to go 저는 그에게 앞날에 뭐 할 거냐고 물어보고 싶어요 = I want to ask what he will do in the future 그는 저한테 여자 친구랑 언제 결혼할 거냐고 물어봤어요 = He asked me when I will marry my girlfriend

Quoted Imperative Sentences: ~(으)라고

There are many ways to end a sentence when giving somebody a command. Aside from their respective differences in politeness, any of these could be added to a verb to make a command:

~아/어 (수고해! = work hard!)

~아/어라 (수고해라! = work hard!)

~(으)세요 (수고하세요! = work hard!)

~(으)십시오 (수고하십시오! = work hard!)

However, when quoting a clause that ends as a command, none of these additions are attached to the final verb in the clause. When quoting a command, you use an ending that is similar ~아/어라.

When quoting these words as commands, you must attach ~(으)라고 to the stem of the verb. ~으라고 is added to the stem of a verb ending in a consonant (except ㄹ), and ~라고 is added to the stem of a verb ending in a vowel (and where the final consonant is ㄹ). Notice that the first part of the addition is ~(으) and not ~아/어. The difference can be significant depending on the word.

Notice from the table that in some cases (eg: 가), there is no difference between how the two additions are added to a verb. However, in most cases, there is a difference.

Anyways, the addition ~(으)라고 can be added to a command that you want to quote.

우리 아빠는 저한테 빨리 먹으라고 했어요 = My dad told me to eat fast 선생님은 학생들한테 열심히 공부하라고 했어요 = The teacher told the students to study hard 어디로 오라고 했어요? = Where did they ask you to go? / Where did you ask them to go?

~지 말라고: Negative Quoted Imperative Sentences

To make negative commands, you attach ~지 말다 to the verb and conjugate it into imperative form.

가지 말아 가지 마세요 가지 마십시오

By attaching ~(으)라고 to ~지 말다, you can create a negative quoted command.

제가 공부하는 동안 저에게 얘기하지 말라고 그랬어요 = I told him not to speak to me while I’m studying 중요한 내용을 없어서 회의를 참석하지 말라고 했어요 = He told me to not attend the meeting because there is nothing important (no important content) ��자친구한테 계속 과장하지 말라고 했지만 그는 한 달에 거의 500 만 원을 번다고 했어요 = I told my boyfriend to not exaggerate, but he said that he almost makes 500 만 원 per month

Quoted Imperative Sentences with 주다: ~달라고

You can use 주다 to ask for an object, or ~아/어 주다 to ask for an action to be completed.

그 펜을 주세요 = Please give me that pen 나를 내버려둬 주세요 = Please leave me alone

When quoting a sentence that ends with 주다 in the imperative mood, the sentence does not change to ~(으)라고. If ~(으)라고 were added to 주다, the acting agent within the quoted sentence would be telling the listener to give/do something to another person. The term “acting agent” refers to the person who is acting within the quote.

성경에게 학생에게 펜을 주라고 했어요 = I told 성경 to give the student the pen There are three people: Me (who is telling 성경 what to do; 성경 (who is listening to me and acting within the quote); and the student (who is neither speaking nor listening, but receives the pen from 성경). 성경 is the one giving the pen to the student, and, thus, is the “acting agent.”

I could take out the “student” whom 성경 gives the pen to and the sentence would still work – it just wouldn’t specifically indicate who is receiving the pen.

성경에게 펜을 주라고 했어요 = I told 성경 to give (you) the pen (or to somebody who we can’t know in this sentence)

주다 can be used in quoted imperative sentences, but only to quote that one tells a person to give something to another person. This can create some confusion.

When the original speaker of the quoted sentence asks for an object to be given to them (or for an action to be done for them) using ~주다 (or ~아/어 주다), 주다 should be replaced by the verb 달다.

You don’t really need to memorize 달다 as vocabulary. It’s typically only used in these situations – as a substitute for 주다 in quoted imperative sentences. As a standalone verb, it technically means “to request.”

1: 밥(을) 주세요 = Give me rice 2: 뭐라고? = What did you say? 1: 밥(을) 달라고 했어요 = I said “give me rice” *The original speaker of the quoted sentence (1) is asking for rice. Therefore, when quoting themself, 달다 is used instead of 주다 because the original speaker is asking for an object to be given to them.

In order to use 달다 in these sentences, the speaker of the final sentence doesn’t need to be “I/me.” Regardless of who says the final sentence, if somebody requests something be given (or be done) to him/her, and that sentence is quoted, 달다 should be used instead of 주다.

1: 밥(을) 주세요 = Give me rice 2: 뭐라고? = What did you say? 3: 밥(을) 달라고 했어요 = He said “give me rice” / He requested rice *The original speaker of the quoted sentence (1) is asking for rice. The speaker of the final sentence (3) is not the same person who originally asked for the rice. Regardless, when Person 3 quotes Person 1's sentence, 달다 should be used instead of 주다 because the original speaker is asking for an object to be given to him.

Again, ~(으)라고 can be added to 주다 if the original speaker of the quoted sentence asks for an object to be given to somebody else.

1: 애기에게 밥을 줘 = Give the baby rice 2: 뭐라고? = What did you say? 3: 애기에게 밥을 주라고 했어요 = I said “give the baby rice”

More examples of ~(으)라고 being used with 달다:

휴지를 달라고 했어요 = I said “please give me a tissue” 우리 아들은 계속 용돈을 달라고 졸라요 = Our son keeps pestering for pocket money 부장은 사원에게 창고에 있는 자전거를 달라고 했어요 = The boss said to his employee “give me a bike from the warehouse.”

It is also possible to replace 주다 in ~아/어 주다 with 달다 when the original speaker of a quoted sentence asks for an action to be done for them.

저의 머리카락을 꼬지 말아 달라고 했어요 = I told her to please stop twisting my hair 할아버지가 이 컴퓨터를 어떻게 쓰는지를 설명해 달라고 했지만 세대 차이 때문에 아주 힘들었어요 = Grandpa asked me to explain how to use this computer, but it was difficult because of the generation gap 저는 그에게 더 자세히 설명해 달라고 부탁했어요 = I asked him to explain it more clearly 어머니한테 그거를 사 달라고 부탁 드렸어요 = I asked my mother to buy that for me

References:

HTSK Unit 3 Lesson 53: Quoting Different Endings: ~자고, ~(으/느)냐고

HTSK Unit 3 Lesson 54: Quoted Imperative Sentences: ~(으)라고

HTSK Unit 3 Lesson 55: Quoting 주다 with ~아/어 달라고

TTMIK Level 5 Lesson 19. To tell someone to do something / Verb + -(으)라고 + Verb

TTMIK Level 7 Lesson 19. Making reported questions / -냐고

More example sentences:

애기가 침을 흘려서 애기에게 턱받이를 해 주자 = Let’s put a bib on the baby because he is drooling 사람들이 여기 맛이 없다고 불평해서 다른 식당에 가자 = People complain that (the food in) this place isn’t delicious, so let’s go to another restaurant

선생님이 수업 시간 동안 열심히 공부하자고 했어요 = The teacher said “let’s study hard during class time” 우리가 서울에 가면 제가 서울 곳곳을 구경하자고 했어요 = When we go to Seoul, I said “let’s sight-see everywhere in Seoul” 우리 아들은 나한테 자꾸 부산에 가자고 졸랐어 = My son kept pestering me and said “let’s go to Busan” 여자 친구는 산책하자고 했지만 저는 너무 피곤해서 안 갔어요 = My girlfriend said “let’s go for a walk,” but I was too tired, so I didn’t go

이 반팔을 입어야 되(느)냐고 물어봤어 = I asked if I have to wear this t-shirt 사위가 어디 갔(느)냐고 물어봤어요 = I asked where my son-in-law went 저는 부장님에게 우리가 그렇게 해야 하(느)냐고 물어봤어요 = I asked our boss if we had to do it like that 냉동실에서 왜 열이 나오(느)냐고 물어봤어 = I asked why there is heat coming out of the freezer 학생한테 학교 안에서 침을 왜 뱉었(느)냐고 물어봤어요 = I asked the student why he spat inside the school 우리가 남들을 왜 잘 대해야 되(느)냐고 물어봤어요 = I asked why we need to treat others/strangers well 학생이냐고 물어봤어요 = They asked me if I was a student 뭐냐고 물어봤어요 = They asked what it is 몇 시에 올 거냐고 물어보세요 = Ask him what time he will come here 왜 안 왔냐고 물어봤는데, 대답을 안 해요 = I asked him why he did not come here, but he will not answer 저한테 어디 가냐고 물었어요 = He asked me where I was going

신입사원을 만나러 나가 = Go out to meet the new employee 매출이 왜 떨어졌는지 설명해라 = Explain to me why the sales dropped

우리가 자난 주에 영화를 네 편 봤다고 했어요 = I said that we saw four movies last week 설문조사를 벌써 작성했다고 했어요 = I said that I already filled out the survey

애기한테 우유를 마시라고 했어요 = I told the baby to drink his milk 버스 아저씨가 저한테 올라타라고 했어요 = The bus driver told me to get on (the bus) 식중독에 걸리면 물을 많이 마시라고 했어요 = I told him to drink a lot of water if he gets food poisoning 애기가 배고파서 남편한테 밥을 먹이라고 했어요 = I told my husband to feed the baby because he is/was hungry 어머니는 아들한테 밥을 먹으러 빨리 오라고 했어요 = The mother told her son to quickly come to eat 회사를 자유롭게 운영하고 싶으면 혼자 하라고 했어요 = I told him that if he wants to run his business freely, to do it himself 엄마가 한 조각 더 먹으라고 했지만 제가 배불러서 더 못 먹었어요 = Mom told me to eat one more piece, but I was full so I couldn’t eat anymore 저는 직원들한테 불만이 있으면 저에게 아무 때나 말을 하라고 했어요 = I told the workers that if they have a complaint (are dissatisfied), to talk to me anytime 우리가 오랜만에 만날 거라서 저는 친구에게 우리 집에 오라고 했어요 = It will be a long time since we last met, so I told him to come to our house 제 한국어 선생님이 모든 한국 사람들이랑 존댓말을 하라고 말씀하쎴어요 = My Korean teacher told me to use honorific speaking with all Korean people 대학교 때 자유롭게 공부하고 싶으면 제 지도교사가 전공을 나중에 선택하라고 말했어요 = If you want to study freely in university, my guidance counselor told me to choose my major later 한국어실력을 늘리고 싶으면 선생님이 한국 사람들이랑 의사소통을 많이 하라고 그랬어요 = If I want to expand my Korean language ability, my teacher told me to communicate a lot with Korean people 조용히 하라고 말해 주세요 = Please tell them to be quiet 누가 가라고 했어요? = Who told you/them to go? 주연 씨한테 주라고 했어요 = They told me to give this to Jooyeon 실발끈이 풀려 있어서 묶으라고 했어요 = I told him to tie his shoes because they were untied 고급시험을 봐 보르고 했어요 = I told him to try to write the advanced exam

그렇게 하지 말라고 했어요= I told you not to do it like that 불을 만지지 말라고 했어요 = I told you not to touch the fire 걱정하지 말라고 했어요 = They told me not to worry 밥을 그렇게 빨리 먹지 말라고 했어요 = I told you not to eat food that fast 선생님은 우리한테 수업에 늦게 오지 말라고 했어요 = The teacher told us not to come late to class 선생님은 복도에서 뛰지 말라고 했어요 = The teacher said not to run in the hallway 차에 제발 토하지 말라고 했어요 = I said ‘please don’t throw up’ in the car 여자친구는 다른 여자랑 대화를 하지 말라고 했어요 = My girlfriend told me not to talk to (have a conversation with) other girls

맥주 한 병을 달라고 했어요 = I said “please give me one bottle of beer” 엄마가 숟가락과 칼을 달라고 했어 = Mom said “please give me a spoon and a knife”

학생은 선생님한테 성적을 올려 달라고 했어요 = The student said to the teacher “raise my grades” 다음 주에 입주할 거라서 그 때와 달라고 했어요 = We will be moving into the new house next week, so I told them to come then 비타민이 풍부하게 들어가 있는 과일만 사 달라고 했어요 = I requested to only buy fruit that is abundant with vitamins (fruits rich in vitamins) 어떤 공무원이 우리 집에 와서 설문조사를 답해 달라고 했어요 = Some government worker came to our house and requested that we answer a survey 그들에게 조용히 해 달라고 했지만 그들은 아직 너무 시끄러워요 = I told them to “please be quiet,” but they are still very loud 부장님은 우리 회사가 행사를 개최할 때 끝까지 애써 달라고 했어요 = When we host this event, the boss requested that we try our best 밥을 빨리 만들어 달라고 부탁 드렸어요 = I asked him to make (the rice) quickly

#korean #notes #quoting

[lovenikkiclothes]

Based around the top ‘Streamline Shape’.

#love nikki #shadow afloat #double color cream #streamline shape #worn jeans #sweet future #street contest #simple earring #consonance cellphone #street standard #ocean sunglasses #warm ray

[altumvidetur]

Haikyuu!! Fic Recs (MatsuHana)

Fic Recs Masterpost

So, I was thinking about the coronavirus pandemic and what I could do to help people out. I’m isolated because I’m at higher risk, so I can’t really offer to go out for my elderly neighbors or my family… but I thought I could try to help keep people entertained.

Because I don’t have an AO3 account right now, I’ve been compiling fic recs for my own amusement for a year or so. And I thought – maybe that’s the time to share these with everyone? So everyone will have plenty of things to read while they have to stay at home, or even to escape anxiety a little bit if you’re forced to go out.

Of course, these cater to my own tastes, so you may find stuff you don’t like around here. I never include works in progress. The Mature and Explicit works will be in italic. I ask you to READ THE WORK’S TAGS before continuing, so you won’t find anything that makes you uncomfortable.

I’ve decided to split it in a series of posts, starting with my OTPs. So here we go with some MatsuHana!

rated m for, by orphan_account

He should have known that there was a Specific Reason™ why it was so absolutely vital that he and Matsukawa specifically meet for a reading of the script. He should have known that there had to be some evil catch beyond sitting in a tiny, cramped studio with his newly sworn enemy.

Hanamaki stares at the title of the script he’d so gracefully neglected the night before.

FORBIDDEN PARADISE

“Excuse me,” Hanamaki starts, raising a pen in the air while staring blankly at the packet in his free hand. “Just to clarify, you want me to record a boy's love CD with Matsukawa?”

of weather, of leisurely tensions, by b_minor

Two boys share an umbrella.

Don’t Lie, Bright Eyes, by tookumade

“Where do you see yourself in twenty years?”

It’s nearly one in the morning and Matsukawa, tucked up comfortably in bed next to Hanamaki, is on the verge of drifting off into blissful sleep when the question stirs him.

“Why are you trying to give me a late-night existential crisis?” he mumbles.

-

(written for Haikyuu!! MatsuHana Week - Day 4 - leaving home)

Roses, by h_lovely

(Summary by me: slow burn, friends to lovers, things are kinky, I’m pretty sure this is the best MatsuHana I’ve ever read.)

You’re in Pink (and I’m in blue), by Hyeyu

Takahiro held his gaze a few seconds in silence before he sighed. "...It's only been a week, okay? S'not serious yet."

“Not serious yet?” Something jumped in Matsukawa’s jaw and he abruptly released Takahiro’s hand, sending the petals cascading to the ground. Takahiro was going to have to clean them up before the others started streaming into the clubroom, and wouldn’t that be fun. “You’re coughing up fucking flowers, Hanamaki.”

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”

-

Hanamaki Takahiro has 99 problems and Hanahaki flowers make up 98 of them.

Good Bad Ideas, by tookumade

When Oikawa asks his friends to help out at his nephew’s birthday party, they get a little more than they bargained for.

(written for Haikyuu!! Rarepair Week - Day 1 - beginnings, celebration)

texting (with a capital S), by parenthetic

Hanamaki breaks his No Texting In Class rule, and it's all downhill from there.

Wet Your Whistle, by darkmagicalgirl

Hanamaki gets a job as a bartender. Matsukawa likes his uniform. (Alternatively: Matsukawa tries to ignore his huge crush on his friend-with-benefits. He fails.)

[obnoxious clucking noises], by parenthetic

On the last night of their last training camp together, Oikawa has a bad idea, Hanamaki goes along with it, Iwaizumi sort of wishes he had better friends, and Matsukawa proves himself to be particularly adept at intimidation tactics.

Love Doesn’t Come with an Instruction Manual, by plumtrees

Seijou 3rd years (now college freshmen) go to ToyCon. Oikawa has a spaz attack over Star Wars, Iwaizumi is his designated babysitter, Hanamaki is adorable, and Matsukawa doesn't know how to deal.

Here Today And There Tomorrow, by tookumade

A first meeting on opposite sides of the volleyball net, and chance meetings afterwards without it.

A Ring of Cream, by plumtrees

Hanamaki has never been one for grand romantic gestures, has never been one for romantic gestures at all, but Matsukawa's a stubborn guy.

Who can't bake for shit.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa (mostly Iwaizumi, really) to the rescue.

Morning Glory, by darkmagicalgirl

On their days off, Hanamaki and Matsukawa's mornings follow a sort of routine.

Even Though It All Went Wrong, by plumtrees

It hadn’t always been so cold. Matsukawa remembers a time where the sun shone high, its rays bright and its heat pleasant like a blanket against his skin. He remembers Hanamaki holding his hand, remembers his cheeks hurting because he’d been grinning so much. Hanamaki had opened his arms wide, and Matsukawa ran straight for them, like he’d been magnetized. He picked up Hanamaki easily and twirled them around, danced with him until they both tumbled along the grass, laughing like idiots.

He remembers because it’s all he can do now.

Crescendo, by plumtrees

Day 1 for MatsuHana Week: Online

-

The voice continues to feed him instructions, the deep rumbling purrs reverberating across his body, each hiss and click of a consonant like a sharp bite, each roll of his tongue a slide of silk against his overheating skin.

Fuck, he loves it.

Somewhat Well-Kept Secrets, by tookumade

“Why don’t they just… date already?” said Iwaizumi.

-

(written for Haikyuu!! MatsuHana Week - Day 2 - cream puffs, in the background)

It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time, by plumtrees

Day 3 of MatsuHana Week: Tattoos and Flower Shops

-

Hanamaki, cheeks as pink as his hair, says, "I was drunk."

"Okay?" Matsukawa prompts.

"And it's way too expensive to laser something this big."

Holy shit. "Okay?"

"Look, can't we just go with 'I made horrible life decisions in college that are now coming back to haunt me' and move on?"

morning, noon, night, by b_minor

A day in the life of two losers in love.

on the anatomy of crushes, by carafin

A part-by-part dissection of their relationship. Medical school AU.

-

‘See you tomorrow?’ Hanamaki asks. He’s still smiling faintly, still carrying about his usual air of quiet self-assurance, but there’s no mistaking the hopefulness in his voice. ‘On the bus, I mean.’

‘Yeah,’ Matsukawa says, and tries not to make it sound too much like a promise. ‘See you tomorrow.’

(Falling in love is really, ridiculously easy.)

Dating Is Not A Nine-To-Five, by tookumade

“What if,” said Hanamaki in a whisper, “we walk in and there’s a yakuza member getting his tattoos done, and he tries to kill us because we saw his face?”

-

(written for Haikyuu!! MatsuHana Week - Day 3 - tattoos and flower shops, coffee shop)

To Fit Myself In The Spaces Between, by tookumade

It's late, a boring movie is on TV, and the remote control is nowhere in sight—and that suited them just fine.

(written for Haikyuu!! MatsuHana Week - Day 4 - midnight, no control)

It’s not even close to your birthday, by squidmemesinc

The shoes look like they could be some kind of gothic lolita item, with thick, tall heels and Mary Jane straps that have little silver hearts on them. The socks are simple except that they run all the way up to his mid-thigh; the crisp white makes enough of a contrast with his skin that the colors flatter each other, rather than subdue them. Then there's the dress. It's just plain black, short and slim, though the skirt flares out at the waist. Takahiro's eyes run up it, stalling where it cuts off around the shoulders and has a wide boat neck trim with a thick ivory collar. The final piece is a simple pink ribbon—not even a necklace, just a ribbon—tied around his neck with the bow in the back.

Where Was I, When The Rockets Came To Life, by tookumade

In a city like this, there wasn’t much of a chance that they would meet again, and given Hanamaki’s current career of choice, if they did, then it was more than likely to be because of a cruel joke set up by fate. He was not about to let his heart be broken now. He had more important things to think about…

-

(written for Haikyuu!! MatsuHana Week - Day 5 - glasses, piercing)

not like the movies, by bravely

“Here,” he says, offering the thumb back to Hanamaki. Absentmindedly, Hanamaki licks it back off. “Thanks.”

Then he blinks.

“Wait,” he says. “Shit, wait. Was that supposed to be romantic just then?”

“ — Well.” Matsukawa clears his throat. “You tell me, I guess?”

No One Else Like You, by auber_jean

"It’s not at all liberating to finally have it said out loud, because it makes it all that more real, and Matsukawa was doing really well pretending that he wasn’t in love with his best friend."

With the turn of graduation, Matsukawa finds himself choosing between a future that he has planned or something more.

live it up, drink it in, by puny

Hanamaki's not a detective, just a wing spiker with a hangover, but he's gonna figure out who gave him all these hickeys if it damn well kills him.

Begin, by Karasuno Volleygays

It's the last day of their high school years and the first day of the rest of their lives. As they spend the night under a blanket of stars, they can't help but wonder where will they go from here?

Playing Doubles, by squidmemesinc

“We always said we were going to fuck at every possible time of day,” Takahiro says, rolling his hips gently over Issei’s.

“I do remember saying that once. Do you have the calendar on hand?”

Captured Light, by plumtrees

“The smile you’re wearing in this photo,” Hanamaki continued, just a little bit sad, “you haven’t smiled like that in a long time.”

Matsukawa looked at the photo again. It was awkward; it always was, seeing himself through Hanamaki’s lens. He’d never really focused on himself whenever he looked at the photos Hanamaki took of him, but now his eyes actively trailed over his face, the crinkle of his eyes, the twinkle in them from the light reflecting off of his cellphone, the smile wide enough to show an entire row of teeth.

He tried to emulate the expression, only to realize how foreign it felt on his face.

-

A love story like most love stories, stuck between busy days and too little time spent together.

Matsukawa learns to take it easy, and Hanamaki is his teacher.

Marks, by Andramion

The room is quiet when Issei gathers the pillows under his arms and lies down. He presses his nose into his shoulder, closes his eyes and focusses on the barely-there touch of fingertips to his skin.

Hanamaki always does this, every single time.

Sure, by kiyala

Beginning university brings a lot of changes with it. As Iwaizumi and Oikawa deal with going to different universities, Hanamaki thinks about his own relationship with Matsukawa.

nebulas, by tothemoon

“You'll have to let me think about it,” Hanamaki says to him while they're looking at soup stocks in the supermarket one evening, because he knows being with someone is not as simple as he'd like it to be.

(At this, Matsukawa does not fret. He goes for the snack aisle, instead.)

Settled, by kiyala

Hanamaki and Matsukawa go for a walk in their hometown in the middle of the night, and reflect on the things that have changed since high school.

Staking a Claim, by iwaizumemes

"Do you think they can tell?"

"Tell what?"

"That we've fucked in all their bedrooms."

something of a disaster, by latenights

“This is the part where you make a wish and blow.”

“Now, let’s not get too hasty—“

“I meant the candles you bastard.”

that’s you get (for waking up in vegas), by skittidyne

“There was an Elvis?” Hajime asks.

“He was the officiator. It’s the cliché, right?”

“…Officiator of what?” Tooru asks with a look down at Takahiro’s hand.

“You can borrow my phone to pull pictures from for our wedding album.” Issei reaches over and grasps the hand with the ring on it. Everyone is staring at their clasped hands like a three-headed lobster just crawled onto the table. “You were both the best men and I was very, deeply touched by how affected you both were at the ceremony,” he says in a perfect deadpan.

(( or: iwaizumi does not want to be the responsible one, and thus they suffer the consequences, or, perhaps, 'suffer' is a bit too strong of a word ))

Wilds, by AngryKitten

Makki waded back to him, two handfuls of stones dripping lake-water. He was grinning, like he always did, like their lives were one great joke that Matsukawa only occasionally understood. Hanamaki tipped his hand, and the rocks tumbled out into the bottom of their canoe.

“For later,” Hanamaki said.

Parting Words, by kiyala

Matsukawa confesses his feelings for Hanamaki at graduation, knowing that they're unrequited. Hanamaki's not so sure about that.

we could be the greatest team, by anyadisee

Oikawa mock-gasps. “Makki! You should know that I was genuinely planning on talking about strategy! I just thought it would be polite to wait for Iwa-chan and Mattsun to get back. But since you brought the topic up”—Hanamaki opens his mouth to protest, but is ignored—“have I told you how amazing Iwa-chan is? Like, he’s just the best boyfriend ever.”

“Wow, I never would’ve guessed what with, you know, how much you’ve been talking about it,” Hanamaki deadpans.

Oikawa waves a hand airily. “Don’t be jealous that my boyfriend is so sweet and romantic.”

Now it’s Hanamaki’s turn to raise eyebrows. “Excuse me, but did you just indirectly drag Issei?"

[in which hanamaki and oikawa get competitive, matsukawa and iwaizumi are good boyfriends, and the rest of seijoh somehow get involved.]

chocolate, by tellalie

“We have to do something,” Mattsun says.

Tides That Bind, by rubyfiamma

Matsuhana Fluff via prompt #19. Things you said when we were the happiest we ever were.

Room to Talk, by holdontoyourhulahoops

In which one snarky comment from Yahaba makes Hanamaki realize he's been a dirty hypocrite all this time.

The Best/Worst Places to Cry in the City, by AngryKitten

“Okay this is going to sound weird, and I get it if you want to say no, but I know a good place to cry and it’s only like a block from here. If you need to, um, let that out or something.”

Matsukawa gets hit on while crying in public and it might be the worst thing that has ever happened to him. Or it might be the best.

plus one, by orphan_account

"Did you know we're dating?"

"What? Says who?"

"Says everyone apparently."

"Oh," Hanamaki frowns for a few seconds before shrugging and turning his attention back to the chocolate fountain. "Nice."

Making Sense, by kiyala

Sharing an apartment does very little to help Hanamaki deal with his feelings for Matsukawa. Perhaps that's not such a bad thing.

and indeed there will be time, by plumtrees

Between volleyball and the looming end of their high school years, Hanamaki thinks he’s already dealing with more than enough, thank you very much.

Unfortunately, no one else gets the memo.

-

Alternatively: “I am not in love with my best friend!” says Hanamaki Takahiro. Nobody buys his bullshit.

snakes, meth labs and something like love, by orphan_account

"Did you know snakes can give birth to between ten and 150 babies at any one time?"

Matsukawa tenses. "And how many have you, um— How many have you found?"

"Four," Hanamaki sighs, voice shaking slightly with what sounds like pure, unadulterated defeat. "So far."

Flamingo, by JanaRumpandRCJawnn

Summary by me: series with Trans!Makki, dealing with transphobia, and a nice lovely characterization of Ushijima.

it’s cold out there, by bishounen_curious

Seijoh's parties are always a mess, but this one takes the cake.

he’s a looker but i really think it’s guts that matter most, by respectableflourish

His fellow first year loves volleyball, has a chill factor verging on glacial, partakes in the type of verbal repartee Takahiro has only ever dreamt of finding in another person, and just so happens to exhibit an eyebrow and eyeliner game that is on another fucking level.

my heart beats for contract law, by orphan_account

"You had an emotional breakdown in a McDonalds drive-through."

"Mmm."

"And proposed to me."

"Shhh."

"In a McDonalds drive-through, Hiro."

Takahiro huffs out a nervous laugh, keeping his eyes closed. "You love it," he repeats, nuzzling closer.

services i can provide, by commovente

“So, what’s this?” Matsukawa asks. “An apology?”

Hanamaki drawls the words out, but he’s rambling. “I mean, I was actually going for a bribe, but. You know what, Mattsun? I’m nothing if not adaptable, so. Yes. Consider this an apology.”

it’s easy being with you, sacred simplicity, by earlgrey_milktea

a conversation at half past three.

poolside, by tothemoon

At eighteen, it'd been a matter of wading.

At twenty-five, Hanamaki tries not to fall in headfirst.

need a little sweetness in my life, by orphan_account

The smell of freshly baked bread, watching his cakes rise, listening to customers endlessly praise his desserts? All that is great but, Matsukawa thinks as he shuffles closer to the counter to greet him, the best thing about his job is the man standing in front of him.

And he doesn’t even know his name.

Lemonade, by carriecmoney

“Seriously, after Oikawa’s Oikawaness, Iwaizumi with the shoulders and the intensity and the caring about people shit and you with…” Takahiro gestures at Matsukawa’s everything. “That. What am I?”

Sing For Me, by rideahorse

The first time he hears Matsukawa singing, it’s in the shower, post-practice, when Matsukawa is likely positive no one’s around to hear it. Takahiro doesn’t even know what to think at first; Matsukawa sings just as he talks, voice a low timbre, barely changing pitch as it navigates through some melody that is so familiar yet unreachable in Takahiro’s mind. It’s English, too, so Takahiro wouldn’t understand it anyways, but that’s beside the point.

The point is that the locker room suddenly feels ten times hotter and Takahiro feels like he might melt into a puddle of very gay and very confused sludge.

Realisations, by kiyala

In which Hanamaki realises that Matsukawa is a werewolf, and has a few other realisations while he's at it.

Magical Mishaps and How to Deal, by plumtrees

Hanamaki Takahiro loved Matsukawa Issei. Sometimes. Mostly. When he wasn’t being bull-headed or overly-difficult. Which wasn’t a lot of the time now that Hanamaki thought about it. Shit. But he digressed.

Demon-mating was a for life kind of deal. Certainly not a decision one could make out of the blue, without years of prior thought and much meditation. The day he asked for his mother’s blessing, the day he planned to ask Matsukawa to be his mate, she had told him If you’re sure you’ll be happy with him, then all I hope for is that he says yes and by some miracle he did and here they are now and Hanamaki could say with all the certainty in the world that he loved Matsukawa Issei with all his heart and soul(s).

But some days…dear gods, some days…some days he just made it really, really difficult.

-

Or: Matsukawa accidentally turns Kindaichi and Kunimi into babies and guess who has to help him clean up his fucking mess.

Pink and Yellow, by hotcocoa

Hanamaki is beautiful, Matsukawa is supportive, and both of them are the luckiest boyfriends in the world.

hang out fall in love, by carafin

In which Hanamaki's humble medical practice is threatened by an intractable asshole a witch doctor who's just moved into the shop down the street. Medical/Witchcraft AU.

-

As far as Hanamaki’s concerned, and as far as bad life decisions go, setting up your witch clinic right next to an actual, proper, medical clinic is practically akin to setting up an all-you-can-eat buffet right next to a gym. Or a sex toy shop next to a church. Or a vegetable patch next to a goat farm. Or – yeah, the point is, this Matsukawa guy has totally cornered the market in Terrible-Life-Decision-Making-Skills.

Baby It’s Cold Outside, by dancingwithwings

Matsukawa looks round. And – heaven help him – he’s greeted with the guy from a couple of apartments down, the guy who dyes his hair to look like a strawberry for reasons unbeknownst, looking so disgruntled, so bedraggled, so akin to a drowning cat, that it almost makes him laugh out loud. The guy is barefoot, wearing only a towel. And the look on his face might turn Matsukawa to stone.

In which the fire alarm goes off, Hanamaki is in a towel, and Mattsun just really needs to study.

Zenith, Nadir, by tookumade

A former god realises that it's time to say goodbye.

Parallel Lines, by orphan_account

Yesterday night, Matsukawa had told his parents that he was joining math club, which lead to several confused smiles from them as they tried to figure out his change of heart.

“Didn’t you say you were allergic to competitive math?” His mom had asked. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, we’re very supportive of your decision, but-”

Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, they’d let it go because no sane parent prevents their child from joining math team, which is intellectually beneficial and looks very nice on college applications. This, in turn, prevents Matsukawa from having to explain that he’s joining- dear god- because of a crush.

this isn’t exactly how i thought i’d spend my adult years, by jadedpearl

When Hanamaki coughs–hacks–the guy, who's been near comatose this entire time, opens his eyes and looks over a little, seemingly with the least amount of effort possible. "Bless you," he says, but his eyes are still sleepy. Hanamaki turns his head and stares at him. "I didn't sneeze." The guy looks a bit surprised. "What?" "I coughed." "So?" "Who the fuck says bless you when someone coughs?"

The Courage of Stars, by FairyLights101

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Then again, not many things were.

sugar pink liquor, liquor lips, by h_lovely

His lips still taste like sugar and liquor; they’re rosy and plush as they fit softly against Matsukawa’s own.

What would you do (if I told you that I la, la, la, loved you?), by Frenchibi

5 IwaOi moments as seen by Hanamaki and Matsukawa ... +1 moment of revenge :'D

Shoulda Known, by fxvixen

He quickly composes his face to look concerned. “What’s the matter there, sport?”

The groan cuts off.

Hanamaki lifts his head, a few strands of hair flopping onto his forehead. He narrows his eyes at Matsukawa’s attempt of a poker face. “Never call me that again.”

~or~

matsuhana feels and cuddles

Time and Distance, by kiyala

Matsukawa is attending university in Kyoto. Hanamaki comes to visit.

Kaleidoscope, by tookumade

Fall in love in five cities.

press play, by airblends

“Makki, you want in on our intro?” Oikawa gestures with his hand.

“Nah, I already promised Issei we’d do one for his channel. There are only so many intros a man can film in a day.”

“Issei, huh?” Oikawa’s lips settle into a knowing smirk. Iwaizumi coughs into his fist, gently prying the camera from Oikawa’s hands to turn it off.

Hanamaki’s face burns up, his cheeks a fiery red. “We’re just friends,” he says, the phrase rolling off his tongue by sheer reflex. He has lost count of how many times he’s typed it into the comment section beneath his videos. At this point he might just start to believe it himself.

New Ground, by kiyala

About new cities and new relationships.

Trusting Things Beyond Mistake, by twinkrevali

"‘I–’ Hanamaki starts, then stops, turning to face the lake and frowning as the words fail to reach him.

Matsukawa pushes himself up to look at Hanamaki properly, hands resting in his lap.

‘You,’ he prompts, and Hanamaki looks at him, eyes shining.

This must be, he thinks, what they call a moment of clarity."

Would You Rather, by jadedpearl

“Y’know,” Hanamaki says, stretching his arms above his head, “I don’t even get why Oikawa is the popular one. If this was an anime, I’d be the main character.”

The setting sun burns his edges gold, alights the sharp planes of his face. Matsukawa looks away, faces forward, towards the houses that wind out of sight.

“What makes you say that?” he replies easily, because things have always been just that, with Hanamaki.

too scared to say (that i want you), by urieskooki

"How could he not hate me if he knew?"

Falling in love with your best friend sucks.

one-way ticket, by noyabeans

post-chapter 258.

-

in an alternate universe, they would be the ones on that screen, feet solidly planted on the smooth ground of the tokyo gym and the smell of air salonpas around them.

take my hand, take my whole life, too, by earlgrey_milktea

matsukawa and hanamaki, a few years down the road, and years to go, together.

all our stolen moments (i’d spend forever with you), by earlgrey_milktea

quiet moments between matsukawa and hanamaki.

it's all worth it, in the end.

Switched Jerseys, by chromyrose

After practice on an afternoon shortly before the Spring High tournament begins, they’re the last two people changing in the club room. The weather is starting to turn for the colder, and Hanamaki sighs when the cool air touches his heated skin after he takes his jersey off. He feels a warm hand on his back, and looks over his shoulder...

oh we’re fading fast / i miss missing you now and then, by earlgrey_milktea

It’s strange, missing someone. You find them in every thing you do, and you think you want them back, but you don’t. Not really. Not now, not like this.

-

issei and the quiet that hanamaki left behind.

i thought i could tame these memories to keep me company like a housecat, by earlgrey_milktea

So he stayed here, in a house that hasn’t been a home in a long time, with a cat that keeps looking out the window as if waiting for someone that isn’t coming home.

-

takahiro and the empty house and lonely cat that issei left behind.

those days are dead and gone (but we’re still here), by kythen

They're graduating today and Hanamaki doesn't want to get out of bed.

stranger things, by tinypersonhotel

In 2012, the men’s national volleyball team took home the bronze at the Asian Cup. Tokyo Skytree opened to the public. Also, the dashing Hanamaki Takahiro and painfully cool Matsukawa Issei started a radio show out of Aoba Johsai’s abandoned A/V room and accidentally became the two most popular guys in school.

Daily Password: [ ], by tookumade

“Neko Atsume?” Hanamaki says sleepily when he recognises the song coming from his phone. He opens his eyes with a mystified smile. “You’re still playing?”

-

(written for Haikyuu!! MatsuHana Week - Day 1 - music)

tell them i love you, by tookumade

“Are you two serious about it, though?” Oikawa says dubiously after training when they’re leaving the clubroom together. “Could you seriously tell each other ‘I love you’?”

“Of course we’re serious!” protests Matsukawa at the same time Hanamaki says, “Of course we can!”

-

(written for Haikyuu!! MatsuHana Week - Day 3 - romantic gesture)

like a river, by astersandstuffs

“Is that a confession? Are you actually confessing to me right now?”

“Hm. Yeah.”

-

Or, they still have a lot to learn (and maybe that's the thing about being together).

Baby(sitting), Maybe, by tookumade

“One day,” says Hanamaki, “we’ll look back on this and laugh.”

“Mm-hm,” Matsukawa hums.

“It’ll be a cute little story. We’ll tell our friends, and they’ll laugh along with us. They might even be sympathetic.”

“Mmmm…”

“You’re absolutely right, sympathetic is reaching way too far.”

-

(written for Haikyuu!! MatsuHana Week - Day 6 - children, bonds)

Matsuhana Week 2017, by h_lovely

Day 1: music//relationship goals Day 2: competition//petty Day 3: romantic gesture//fairy tale Day 4: in danger//leaving home Day 5: food//science Day 6: children//bonds Day 7: on video//surprises

A God for Every Season, by timkons

Mortals have all kinds of foolish tales, like how Hades and Persephone's annual reunion causes the seasons. Matsukawa knows better.

Habenaria Radiata, by tookumade

Hanamaki turns onto his side so that they’re facing each other, and his smile is warm; Matsukawa feels his heart skip a beat, as it always does whenever this happens, and he wonders when he’ll ever get used to it, when it’ll become normal enough that he doesn’t get butterflies in his stomach every time Hanamaki smiles at him.

(Probably never, if he’s being honest with himself. He is content with this.)

take my heart and put it in your pocket, by Frenchibi

Issei blinks. “I ain’t drinkin’ any of your froofy Christmas Latte thingies.” “Orange Caramel Mocha.” “What?” “Vanilla Chai Latte.” “Ew.” “Cinnamon Hot Chocolate.” Issei rolls his eyes, resigned. “Fine. That doesn’t sound too awful.”

Remind Me, by tookumade

For Hanamaki and Matsukawa, their first meeting consists of a small accident, a terrible first impression, and the start of something new—maybe something better.

(In which they learn to keep trying, and to try again.)

like twinkling lights and the warmth of your hand, by earlgrey_milktea

mattsun and makki go on an impromptu date.

in a daze, by wyverning

The sound of a camera shutter goes off, and Issei lazily cracks open an eye to see Hanamaki grinning down at him, phone held loosely in one hand.

“That was the best Kunimi impression I’ve ever seen,” he says by way of explanation.

Clueless, by Elleh

If anyone had asked Issei how he’d thought his night would end, he’d have never said: catching my best friend moaning my name while fucking himself.

There’s an odd second, between Issei entering their room and sliding the door of the bedroom open, in which Issei is still oblivious. Skin prickling, a sudden dryness in his mouth, but oblivious. He’s taking his shoes off when the first moan catches him.

He stills right on the spot, a shoe hanging from his finger, the other hand half-way to opening the bedroom. Issei swallows, images of Hanamaki with a girl from the hotel, that’s why he didn’t want to come with us drink, the bitter taste that realisation leaves behind. Issei shouldn’t care Hanamaki’s having sex with someone, but the sourness turns into rage—and maybe disappointment. He’s gonna have a serious conversation about boundaries and, you know, could you let me know in advance, so I find—

“Issei… Mmmh, fuck.”

IOU, by Karasuno Volleygays

Matsukawa Issei goes in for a tattoo and ends up with an interesting new friend in Hanamaki Takahiro. Soon his visits to his tattoo artist's studio in the back of a restaurant become a highlight of his days, and that's before feelings start to wriggle their way into the picture.

take a screenshot, it’ll last longer, by h_lovely

It’s all fun and games until someone pops a boner in a staff meeting.

lapsus linguae, by astersandstuffs

“I’m literally your best friend,” Matsukawa says.

Takahiro pauses. “Shit. You’re right.”

Reflex, by hiuythn

Nobody likes to talk about how Hanamaki and Matsukawa met, which is a shame, because they both think it's the funniest fucking thing to ever happen to either of them.

my way home, by tookumade

Matsukawa has been sitting at their freshly-placed dining table and staring at his copy of their new apartment keys for at least an hour.

(Hanamaki checks his watch. Okay, five minutes; same thing.)

first light, by tookumade

Iwaizumi and Oikawa immediately break out into booing and gagging noises, because as much as they both think themselves mature and reasonable people, they are honestly idiots. Matsukawa just grins and takes a sip of his own beer, pleased, but Hanamaki is frozen, eyes wide and a blush creeping across his face in a way that had nothing to do with the beer.

Tactical Retreat, by Karasuno Volleygays

After years of getting their asses handed to them by the seemingly psychic Iwaoi bond, Issei and Takahiro opt to spend the rest of their paintballing trip engaged in other activities.

Mirror Flower, Water Moon, by h_lovely

Matsukawa’s gaze lingers on Hanamaki. He’s talking about something, ranting on and Matsukawa isn’t sure about what at this point. He should be listening really, how rude of him. But spring has just sprung and the little pink petals dotting the sidewalk match so pleasantly with the strawberry shade of Hanamaki’s short-clipped hair.

(Or, a study on timing and how to get it right.)

quidditch gloves, parchment, and custard cream, by h_lovely

After class, Matsukawa finds Hanamaki in the tall cushy grass by the lake.

#haikyuu!! #fic recs #matsuhana #matsukawa issei #hanamaki takahiro #otp: swapped jerseys #please warn me if any links are broken #and reblog it if you can so more people will see it

[iwhumpyou]

Mountain (Part 5)

Masterlist.  Riva.

Part 4.

~#~#~#~#~#~

They had a snowmobile, and attaching the sled to that had helped them pull Frederik back to the town. There were few houses here – off-season, one of them said with a twist to his mouth, but she wasn’t awake enough to muddle through the undercurrents – but the building they’d exited from was an inn – bar and restaurant and gathering place all in one – and someone had gone to find the doctor that lived in town.

Frederik was diagnosed with three cracked ribs, a tibia fracture, and a twisted ankle, on top of moderate hypothermia and dehydration.  The bones had been set and he’d been bundled onto a bed with heating pads and an electric blanket, the doctor’s lilting voice guiding him through drinking a glass of warm water before he was allowed to doze off.

The doctor turned to her next, interspersing words she understood with a language Riva was too tired to puzzle out.  Apparently Riva had mild hypothermia, her ankle was probably sprained, and when she peeled her gloves off, the doctor had not been pleased to see that Riva’s fingers were a worn red.

Riva understood only about one word in five, but it sounded like there was some sort of paste or something that would help but it was in the clinic, and the roads were impassable due to the storm.  The snow had picked up as they were bringing Frederik in, and the wind was howling right now, the only thing visible from the window a furious expanse of whirling white.

She thanked the doctor regardless, and accepted the mug of hot cocoa, but flatly refused the bed. She wasn’t leaving Frederik, not when she didn’t know who these people were or where their loyalties lay.  She accepted the blanket, but curled up in the chair beside his bed before haltingly miming for a cellphone.

The doctor shook her head and threw her hands up in clear exasperation.  “Sprain elevated,” she said, pointing at Riva’s injured leg, and with great reluctance she freed it from her cozy blanket nest to rest it on top of Frederik’s bed. 

“Heat pack for ankle,” the doctor said, “And phone.  Will return.”

The hot cocoa was warm and delicious and Riva held it gratefully, even if the mug’s heat was searing on the red rashes on her fingers.

The sugar perked her up enough that she had a coherent plan by the time the doctor returned with the heat pack and phone.  She would call the rest of her teammates – though they were probably stuck where they were, and Riva gave thanks yet again that they’d managed to find shelter before the blizzard had hit – and she’d watch over Frederik until they arrived.

And then she would sleep. And then take a vacation to the Sahara Desert, or maybe an active volcano.

It took her a long, stressful moment to remember Landon’s phone number, and even longer to dial it with shivering, cramped fingers, as the doctor exchanged her empty mug of hot chocolate for a glass of warm water.

She stared at Frederik as the phone rang, listened to his noisy exhale and watched the slight furrow in his forehead.  Color had returned to his cheeks and he had stopped looking so waxen.  He looked a hundred times better than he had in that cabin with just a crackling fire and Riva’s poor medical skills.

“Hello?” Landon answered, his voice crackling.

“Landon,” Riva breathed out in a rush, some part of her uncoiling at the sound of his voice.  He was there, she’d reached him, she’d found help.

“Riva?” his voice was suddenly louder, “Riva, is that you?”

“Yes,” Riva said roughly, around the growing lump in her throat, “It’s me.  I – I’m with Frederik.  We’re in a town at the bottom of the mountain –” Riva abruptly realized that she had no idea where she was.

“What is the name of this town?” she asked the doctor, who was politely hovering in the doorway. She had to repeat the question again, until the doctor brightened and answered with a name that had far too many consonants.

Riva repeated the name as best she could, but the doctor’s wince made it clear she mangled it.  “Did you get that?” she asked.

“You said town at the bottom of the mountain, we’ll figure it out from there,” Landon said, the line crackling as someone else cut in.  His voice faded out and then back in again.  “How are you?  How is Frederik?”

“I’m fine,” she said, and the relief was swelling inside of her, the emotions she’d suppressed during their long, cold trek down.  “Frederik has a few broken bones, but he’s fine.  There’s a doctor here.  He’s sleeping.”

There was a long pause, presumably so he could repeat her words to the others.  “Okay, there’s a pretty fierce storm on right now, so we can’t get down to you till late morning,” Landon said, and she hummed in agreement.  “What happened to you guys?  They said that the ski lift broke?”

Riva couldn’t stop the harsh bark of laughter.  “The van Vorsens happened,” she said quietly, flicking a glance at the doctor, “They shot at us, and cut the lift down.”

For a long moment, she could hear nothing but Landon’s breathing, broken up by static.

“Did they now,” he said finally, and it was very clearly not a question.  “Stay where you are, Riva.  We’ll pick you up in the morning.”

With that, he ended the call and Riva uncurled to hand the phone back to the doctor.  “Thank you,” she said, and the doctor smiled.

“You need sleep,” she frowned, but sighed and left them to it.  “Your friends here soon?”

Riva nodded yes, hugging the warm water as she settled further in the chair.  She had to watch over Frederik for just a few more hours. 

Just a few more hours, and Landon and the others would be here.

Just a few more hours, and Riva would be safe.

~#~

Part 6.

#whumpfic #riva #arc: mountain #snow #hypothermia #broken bones #sprained ankle #exhaustion

[insomniac-dot-ink]

The Breakdown Ch1

genre: supernatural gay ghost story

rated: M

words: 4.3K

summary: What do you get when you combine an urban legend turned real, a psychic hick, and bunch of ghost hunting Yankees? A bad time.

All Kevin Lampton wants to do with his summer is stop The Lady in White from killing anymore road trippers in the middle of nowhere Kentucky. Unfortunately, a group of ghost hunters looking for answers makes his job a lot more complicated.

Chapters: One, Two

Website⭐Ko-Fi ⭐Patreon ⭐ WordPress⭐Twitter 

Prologue

Technically, no one agreed on its name. It had no name and no place on the maps- faceless as a cliff smoothed over by time and as anonymous as a stranger in a New York City subway at rush hour.

The dirt road peeled off highway US 68 halfway between Lexington and Springfield in the dusty empty guts of Kentucky. There was no hint of its existence except a dinky gas station on the corner that didn’t even sell hot dogs and required a pair of clunky keys to enter the fly-infested bathroom. The turnoff itself was only indicated by a little green arrow on a rusting metal pole.

Kevin had tried several times to kick down that green arrow and put up construction cones across the mouth of the road. That had worked a couple times before “Destruction of Public Property” letters started showing up in the mail. He tore up the letters first and then the next green arrow.

The unnamed road eventually breached the tiny town of Reginald. Its long bumpy neck skirted around the boxy houses with battered tires out front, ownerless dogs barking at the burnt sky, and dried grass the color of eye-crust. After Reginald it breached into “nothing land,” land that could be anywhere at all in its tired and timeless way.

It raced for thirty straight miles after that- no bends, no twists, no turns. It was as a straight as khaki pants at an old navy sale and guys in bars who would rather sleep on concrete floors than even brush the skin of another man.

It surged perfectly lonely toward Hillsboro. Hillsboro, population barely 100, was like Reginald except with the aftertaste of even more broken satellites on each roof and burnt trash since the garbage trucks wouldn’t come out that far.

Some people called the road between the two towns “Hillsboro Road” or “Reginald Lane,” each town denied such names and spat on the ground at the mention of it. An old man with a handsome nose half the size of his face and a bite for every other word called it “Catpiss Trail.”

It was yellow in the sunlight, and tinted brown in the night, ground that took on whatever color suited its mood. The dirt was loose and dried, easily sludgy in the rain, and a scourge to tires everywhere as the rubber flung stones into the air like rapid-fire projectiles. It was the type of road that was just another nameless dirt road in a nameless corner of the world.

Nevertheless, someone swore on their mother’s grave that there used to be a sign next to it, just a wooden post with white lettering. The post had read “Sumpter Road.” Kevin agreed on it being Sumpter Road. It was a thirty-mile lick of dirt that connected the very empty bits of a middling world. Sometimes a field or two bordered its edge- owned by men in ties that had never stepped foot in Kentucky. They grew grain or corn or somebody’s next sandwich. But mostly, it was grass, dry grass the color of yellows-lesser-cousin, a decayed yellow that had given up on its goals a long time ago.

You could drive for miles and miles alongside that wilting yellow, across flat plains with only tiny white shacks off in the distance and rusting red pickup trucks abandoned off to the side. It was junk and nothing all at once. Empty, lonely, ugly Sumpter road. 

Locals of Reginald and Hillsboro used different options other than Sumpter. They knew not to travel on that road, not at night, not during the full moon, not during the crevice moon or no moon, and especially not during the summer. There was a conscious little heartbeat that traveled from mother to cousin to old great aunt back down to second cousins twice removed: don’t go on the dirt road off highway US 68, you know the one.

They knew not to go there, Kevin knew not to go there, and despite their collective best efforts, somebody wasn’t listening. People in Subaru's and Honda’s and family minivans, always in the lean months of summer with the faint smell of sweet heather and somatic cow filling the air.

They appeared as the sun roasted the dry earth and sucked the color from the sky until it was such a fragile, wilting thing you wished to drag your finger across the silken bottom and taste it.

Kevin knew those summer’s well, and he was sick of them.

----------------

Chapter 1: The Blue Toyota

Seven miles from the highway, fourteen minutes from the closest house, twenty miles from the nearest public restroom, Kevin Lampton snapped open a folding lawn chair. The chair had been his roommates, but his roommate claimed it had been left in their backyard from the previous owner.

Strips of worn cloth draped across it from one metal limb to the next, the stripes had probably once been bright teal and red and clean white. Now it was just a faded peach and wheezing blue, it was rusted around the screws and held his weight with a reluctant groan.

But it had been free which was perfectly within his budget.

The headlights of his shitty 1990 Hatchback blew up his lumpy shadow across the ground and was the only light for miles except the teetering mix-drink stars up above. The headlights streaked valiantly across the dark ether and cut out a little life there. I’m wasting so much fucking battery, he reminded himself bleakly, but it was better than waiting in the dark.

He used headlights since flashlights always made him feel like an amateur that was just asking for someone to knock it out of his hands and kick him in the nuts for free. He wasn’t an amateur.

He slouched in the chair and the hungry heat crawled across his flushed skin, it was technically May, but it had the teeth of July- beating down on his brow and dripping long damp fingertips down his spine. He had on a white tank-top, one that made him look like he stored a shotgun in his trunk and didn’t know how to give his consonants any backbones.

Which was all true. But usually he didn’t want to show it. However, summer didn’t play by any judgement structured by how much PBR you drank or how much army camo print you owned. It was too hot for t-shirts and he settled.

He remained in his ragged slouchy jeans though, not even the murderous undead deserved the sight of his knobby gawky knees in shorts. 

Kevin blinked up at the night sky, a vast unreadable thing, and listened. Crickets chirped in all directions and a few coyotes cried woefully to each other in distant places, but nothing more. Sometimes he thought he spotted blinking lightning bugs just above the tides of grass, but he usually chalked up to his imagination.

He slipped the cracked screen of his Samsung phone out of his pocket and just barely registered the time: 10:32. He sighed again. Kevin Lampton was big subscriber to sighing, he renewed it every year and regularly added: wrinkling his mouth into a tiny scrunched frown and running a hand pensively through his shaggy brown hair.

He needed a haircut. He needed to clip his nails. He needed to get back to his tiny motel room and throw out the milk in the mini fridge- it was at least five days old. He needed music. 

He sighed again and instead craned his neck back and went over notes in his head: perfectly inelastic: the price stays the same regardless of the quantity demanded. Demand curve is a vertical line.

Elastic: if price elasticity of demand is greater than 1, quantity reacts to price…

He traced the vocab words on the arm of the plastic chair and occasionally mumbled to himself. He lost track of time, there was no other choice at that point in the night but to lose track of it.

11:00, 11:30, 12:00, coffee break, piss break, cursing at his cellphone as its battery drained, 12:20.

Kevin got all the way up to his anthropology notes and classifying primate bones. Orangutans: lesser apes, globular head, longer forelimbs.

It was 12:22 and the night split open like a ripe melon bashed with a baseball bat. A horrifying guttural scream pierced the air. He didn’t exactly hear it with his ears, which always seemed stupid if he thought about it too hard, but it pierced through his mind in a flurry of sickening bites. Yellow jabs, cloying blows, gut churning, and body seizing sensations.

Kevin let it hit him once, twice, before bursting to his feet and digging his hands into his stuffed pockets and patting the contents. He extended his senses outward: sending soft feelers toward the bleak oceans of anyone nearby. “Shit.” They were two miles up the road, further up than he expected, but ghosts were dreadful about being reliable.

Another shriek bristled from behind him and Kevin tossed his chair aside and dove back toward his car, “Shit!”

He hopped into his shitty hatchback, stalled the ignition in a reckless moment, and then backed all the way up. His tires threw up dirt as he accelerated with the devil on his heels and he took a U-turn that as more of a V-turn.

His car groaned for a moment, but had enough soul left to take off with a high-pitched growl and dramatic skid. He gunned the gas and fishtailed across the night, “Come on baby.” He sped, there was no speed limit out there, but he had no way of knowing what ‘fast enough’ was going to be.

He got close enough to recognize the robust shape of a car pulled off crookedly to the side of the road, headlights splashing across the ground and two pale figures sitting rigidly in their seats. The sound of someone twisting the key in the ignition with careless jamming motion crackled through the air.

Waves of spiky sticky fear pierced Kevin’s stomach and knew he was in the right place, obviously. That’s also when all the life went out of his car.

It didn’t stall or sputter or curse at him in any known electric language, it simply rolled to a perfect limp-boned stop. As it always did when he got this close.

Kevin scrambled out of the car and locked it just in case, you know, just in case.

“Stay calm!” He shouted across the way as they kept revving the engine and going absolutely nowhere. He started running. It was a shiny dark blue Toyota with a handsome finish, the plates were from out of state.

A woman with chin-length stiff red hair sat in the passenger seat, wild-eyed and chest heaving, all the blood drained from her face and hands braced on the dashboard. She was wearing a college t-shirt and looking at nothing.

A man with black glasses and a dark stubble beard sat next to her, eyes on the steering wheel and muttering curses in jagged uneven breaths. They looked like a young couple that were either lost, wayfarers, or their GPS had general murderous intent. It didn’t really matter at this point.

Kevin swung around to the passenger side door. This was the tricky part.

“What was that?” The woman’s voice was shrill, frantic and formless. “What the fuck was that Robert? Tell me you saw that Robert.” Robert did not respond.

Kevin hesitated; he had tried this part before with varying results. Quickly he decided on a new combination of methods, first tapping on the glass lightly and then simply opening the passenger door and hopping inside.

She always left the doors unlocked by that point.

The woman let out a shriek like bloody murder and jumped to the side, and the man looked up with empty-eyed terror.

“Don’t worry folks!” Kevin put his hands up and realized maybe ‘wife beater’ wasn’t the ideal outfit in this situation right then. He cut to the chase. “When’s the last time you saw Her? One minute ago, five?” “Ahhhh!” None of his methods seemed to work very well.

The man snapped out of his stupor and balled his fist up, “Get behind me Julie!” He put his arm out in front of the woman’s chest and offered impractically. He was plastered to the back of the driver's seat and Julie wasn’t getting behind anything. Kevin raised his hands up even further, “I’m here to help.” He winced as Robert raised his fist, “Wait, wait, you don’t want to punch me! I promise. I’m your lifeline.” They both stared at him, dumbstruck, the girl hyperventilated, “WHAT the fuck is going on?”

“Is this some sort of sick prank?” The man’s face bubbled red hot, “Tell me if you think this is some sort of practi-” “Not a prank,” Kevin’s eyes roved around the back of the car and an inconspicuous cold gently seeped through the air like mist rising off early morning grass, “I swear.”

“Don’t tell me...” The woman wrapped her arms around her body and shivered- she felt it too. “Don’t worry,” Kevin explained quickly, “You’re lucky I got here in time, now… when’s the last time you saw the lady in white?”

“What, what are,” the woman stammered. He was too late. There had been too much talking. Kevin was too late.

He was still working on this part.

He saw the movement before he saw the shape itself. Skin as white as crushed daisy petals, hand small and childlike one moment and then tendril thin and clawed the next. Kevin’s breath stalled in his chest, the white hand slithered out from the backseat, just by the driver’s side window and hovered for a moment.

It stalled in place, like the second before a giant metal airplane with no feathers or hollowed bones or thousands of years of aerial evolution pressed off the hard earth and into the sky anyway: a certainty of the impossible.

The hand lunged, fingers spreading impossibly wide, impossibly quick, and it clenched around the man’s neck with no ceremony or preamble and squeezed. His head hit the headrest with a swift jerk and his glasses slunk down to the end of his nose.

“Sir!” Kevin barked, but the hand was already latched on. The blood drained from the man’s face like there was straw attached to his neck and sucking. His skin squished in like silly putty being molded and the smallest of choking noises escaped his parted lips, barely a noise at all.

The woman didn’t move, Kevin internally complimented her for not pissing herself… yet. 

Kevin reached into his large pockets. He was getting better at this part. When he first started, he used to quote bible lines like “the power of Christ compels you” and “in the name of the father, the son, and the holy spirit, be gone.” However, it didn’t seem to make any difference.

“Fuck off!” He shouted in its place and didn’t turn around; he knew better than that and continued yelling. “Get back!” He dug out salt rocks from his pocket and tossed them wildly into the back, flinging them over his right shoulder with abandon. A guttural growl answered, like a barely rumbling thunder cloud or the echoes of a tumbling rock fall in a canyon. A warning.

He caught her eyes in the rear view mirror.

He wouldn’t dare turn around, but he could do this much. She was positioned in the middle seat perfectly so and staring unblinkingly ahead.

Her skin was as pale as bleached bone and tendrils of lank black hair fell around her face. Her eye holes were surrounded with ragged black eyelashes, burnt ground around white, a white with no irises, a white with no pupils, a gaping emptiness with bruises underneath. Deep shadows and sagging skin, unslept and unwept.

The eyes themselves were nothing, empty fissures, otherworldly, but the bags under her eyes spoke of something human, something real, skin gathered and drooping mundanely. A suggestion of a person in the worst way, and it made his stomach heave.

“Fuck off!” He yelled again and threw another handful of salt, a hissing came right by his ear like the hiss of pipes just about to burst, animalistic and inhuman.

He reached into his other pocket and silently apologized to the upholstery. The man was choking, gasping, eyes bulging out of his head and spit dripping down his chin in glistening strings. The woman Kevin was squished next to remembered to scream.

“It’s got him, it’s got him!” She babbled and twisted around in her seat to look. The second she turned a new scream etched out of her insides, primal and broken. He took note for future reference: shoulda told her not to look.

He held up a pouch over his right shoulder.

Kevin squeezed the cold plastic bag furiously and aimed without looking, like he was trying to splatter abstract art somewhere and hated the canvas itself. The blood squirted out of the little tube in a perfect arching stream and the sound of liquid hitting fabric followed. He waved it back and forth until it sagged empty and deflated in his hands.

Kevin’s arms goose-fleshed and the overwhelming scent of bog rot and frost flooded through the car’s vents, a hissing like rattlesnakes and tortured cats joined it. Julie stopped screaming to cover her nose and mouth and she gagged on the waves of rank air.

Robert on the other hand started hacking and drawing desperate breaths of air, the type of sound you hear in the wards of newborns or from ailing vacuum cleaners.

Kevin braced himself, grabbing the handle above and shoving one shoe against the car door and the other against the dashboard. “Hold on.” He advised, but it was lost to the violent gagging of the woman and the man besides her attempting life.

The car shuddered like it was going through turbulence, rocking forward and backward as a bucking bronco trying to dislodge them, tipping wildly in some unseen ocean.

Kevin squeezed his eyes shut as their impromptu roller coaster trip shook the life from them like rag dolls in the hands of a vindictive toddler. Julie crashed into his side while the man gasped for air with a certain reverence and loving devotion.

Kevin exhaled from somewhere deep within himself when the tipping settled and the temperature in the car quickly climbed like a morning birdsong at dawn.

The woman clawed at the dashboard in a move Kevin could only wonder at and she twisted in her seat to look behind them again, teeth clenched and whole body trembling. A vein popped out of her forehead like a rather elegant blue engraving in her skin.

Kevin released the tension rippling through his nerves and exhaled. It was over.

He shifted in place, he was now positioned directly on top of the plastic middle island between the seats and tilting his head up toward the ceiling. He closed his eyes for a moment and listened. It was quiet except for crickets chirping. The scent of blood seeped through the air, but that was his fault.

“Where is she?!” The woman said louder than strictly necessary. “Where the fuck is she?!” She reached for the door, ready to do the logical thing and bolt.

The man felt at the red-marked puckered skin on his neck and wheezed in response.

“Don’t worry,” Kevin remembered he had to do this part too. “She’s gone. Don’t get out, she’s gone for the night.” The couple in the car both turned to him at once, as if seeing him for the first time and clearly not being pleased.

“You,” the man spoke first, still laboring for the breath and his voice faint as a crushed soda can. “You,” he seethed, “What is this?” He spat, “Who are you?” The guy who just saved your life.

“You can try the car now,” Kevin said instead, “it should start.” They both eyed him warily, mutely trying to process the existence of the evil undead and also this sunburnt white kid in a wife beater sitting in the center of their car. “I’m Kevin,” he looked between them, “I stop stuff like this.” He didn’t elaborate or add only on this road and with this particular ghost. “I came to help.”

He could still feel the anxiety and adrenaline rolling off the couple. It was a vivid electricity that clogged his chest and made his teeth ache. However, they hadn’t tried to hit him again- which was a fabulous perk for that night.

“Are you,” the girl poked at his cheek the way you might poke a strange stray dog collapsed on your porch, “are you real?” Kevin knit his brow together. “Yeah, I am,” he struggled to explain, “I, uh, she’s the only other thing on this road.” That didn’t seem right either. “In Kentucky.” He frowned, “Okay, maybe just on this road.”

The man mutely grabbed for the keys and tried the ignition, the car easily murmured to life with no complaint, you’ll want to check the shocks later. Kevin didn’t add that yet.

The woman held her chest and stared off into nothing, “What was it?” She finally whispered.

“Was that real?” The man had turned the car on but was still feeling at his abused neck. At least he dropped the idea it was a prank, you know, the murder kind of prank.

Kevin realized he was stuck between the both of them in the car, a dinner party he was not invited to nor wanted to attend. “You shouldn’t drive on this road ever again.” He said darkly, “Not ever. She might remember you.”

“What is this road?” The man asked, tasting the weight of each word and staring at Kevin with an even keel.

Kevin nodded, because that was the right question, “Sumpter. Just try to remember it.” Kevin said plainly as exhaustion finally peeled off him like soggy tree bark from a dead oak. They looked back to him, “What did you do?” The woman asked, flatly and not particularly kindly.

“I just stop stuff like this,” he repeated, “with a little lamb’s blood and salt.” You’ll need to get the back reupholstered- he didn’t say that yet either. “You’re okay now, really, like I said she won’t come for you again tonight.” He met the woman’s eyes and managed to extend a small scrape of reassurance toward her. “It’s over.” Kevin glanced over to the door handles to indicate his job here was done.

They both were still looking at him, “And what the fuck is it?” Robert growled.

“Ghost.” Kevin stated flatly. He waited for their disbelief, their rejection, their grappling with wild powerlessness and the simply thought of something more to all this. Kevin pushed out another wave of reassurance and another long moment passed. He cleared his throat, “The Lady of the Road. The Strangling Demon. The Lady in White depending on who you ask.”

Julie’s entire body shuddered at that and she curled inward like a roly-poly poked with a stick and buried her face in hands. It was a long fertile moment, hanging in the infinite, and then she started crying softly, without any pretenses or filter.

“Uh,” Kevin scratched the back of his neck, “I should go.” He didn’t look over to her; he already felt enough of her trembling shock waves of mortal despair. “I’m just… yeah.” They ignored Julie as she had her private moment and Robert turned to him with strangely piercing dark eyes, “How did you find us?” Kevin licked his cracked lips, “I’m from around here. I know she sometimes attacks people on this road, I come out a few times to stop it.” It wasn’t entirely the truth, but he needed to get out of here. “I should get going.” The man was frowning so hard it might as well have been an indent in his lower face, he reached for his door handle and silently stepped out. This was the point where some people gave Kevin cash or a hug, but it wasn’t one those nights.

“Wait,” the woman’s hand strangled the back of his shirt and stopped him, “How do you know she won’t come back?” Kevin didn’t turn to look back at her, “I just know. It’s the rules, it’s only on this road and only once, promise.” A long silence stretched thin, the man’s eyes shifted outside the car and the woman’s weepy voice clung to him. They focused on him, “Where does the road end?” Kevin just pointed, “When you reach the highway, then you’re out.”

The man and woman exchanged a glance. “And you get rid of her? That’s your job?” The man asked steadily, feeling his neck again.

“I mean, yeah, kinda. It gets rid of her for a little while.” This was Kevin’s least favorite part.

The man got back in the car and closed the door, “I’m Robert, that’s Julie,” he grunted, “Show us the way from here?” Kevin sighed deeply, and sometimes they asked him to stay with them. “Sure.” He would have to walk back to his car later. It was going to be a terrible night.

The couple didn’t say anything more with the scent of lamb’s blood drying and the air-conditioning left off. He rode silently to the highway with them in the blue Toyota, his thoughts dripping out his ears and falling to the ground like unfolded laundry. He didn’t bother pick them up again.

They’re alive tonight. Another car is going to be okay. He reminded himself gently, now just 90 more days of this.

Ninety more days, another summer, and however else long it took to make sure no one else died because of The Lady in White. 

Kevin would make sure of it no matter how many times it took.

                                                                                         Next Chapter =====>

--------------

Hey! Being a writer is a tough business and I put the “ah” into st-ah-rving artist so if you enjoyed the story please consider donating to my ko-fi or subscribing to my website or patreon

#ghost story #supernatural story #mlm #urban fantasy #original story #urban legends #novel #my work #original writing #the breakdown #LGBT fiction #original novel

[exo-writers-net]

Spook your luck event!

Hello, fellow members, and hello October.

Autumn is finally here and with it, another network’s event. In honour of one of the scariest holidays out there and in a display of originality, we have decided that this month's event will be about Halloween.  👻

Are you excited? We sure are.

We wanted to do something a bit different from our previous events, so this one is a little “build your prompt” type of event.

How? Simple.

The pictures below contain different variables (your bias, your birth month, the first letter of your name, the last consonant of your URL and the last digit of your cellphone number) and you’ll just have to choose which option applies to you to form your own prompt.

We are aware these are fixed variables, so if you want to write more than one fanfic for this event you can just try to play a little with the different options. Maybe use the name and bias of a friend as a gift for them *wink wink*, or maybe just choose the different options completely randomly to see what kind of crazy prompt you can get.

The event will start on the 1st of October and it will end on the 31st of October. 

Remember to use the network’s tag #exowritersnet and the event’s tag #spookyourluckevent and most importantly, have fun!

#exowritersnet #spookyourluckevent #exo #suho #xiumin #baekhyun #chanyeol #d.o #lay #sehun #kai #chen #tao #luhan #kris

[rayslablr]

Spanish Pronunciation: Accents

Hello, rayslablr here! I’ve been thinking of topics to create a blog for any Spanish learner and I came across “pronunciation”, something that can be hard for foreign speaker since there are bunch of rules that apply to the language that even for native speakers are hard to keep up with.

Spanish speaking countries have different pronunciations to different words, so it might be a shock if you come near natives that talk different from one another because each one has diverse cultures. Having said that, we have to talk about accentuation.

Accentuation: refers to the stress/accent/marks put on different part of words. Ex.: the word “pen-cil” has the stress on the first syllable “pen”, if you pronounce it with the accentuation on a different syllable you realize the importance of this matter. English has an unregulated accentuation, since it can be difficult for foreign speakers to know which syllable receives the verbal stress by just looking at a word, however, in Spanish there are rules where one can easily learn the proper accentuation by looking at a word.

Before we go further, we have to practice our intonation which can be so hard to achieve since you are not used to the way your voice goes up and down within spoken phrases because it’s not your mother tongue. But practicing our intonation can allow us not to cause any misunderstandings; Moving to main topic, accentuation in Spanish is actually easy, you just gotta understand how syllables work and are formed. You can learn how to read accents (accent marks) and emphasizes on that part of the word.

In Spanish (I’m not sure about other languages), we have two kinds of vowels: strong and weak vowels, these vowels create syllables!

STRONG VOWELS

“a”; “e”; “o”.

When two strong vowels are next to each other, they each form a syllable.

a-e ; e-a ; o-a ; a-o ; e-o ; o-e

Examples:

ca-er: fall

re-al: real

a-e-ro-pu-er-to: airport

a-é-re-a: aerial

co-e-xis-tir: coexist

WEAK VOWELS

“i”; “u”.

When a weak vowel is next to any other vowel, they form just one syllable.

ai ia oi au

ie ue

ei io ui

eu iu uo

Examples:

ciu-dad: city

hue-so: bone

huér-fa-no: orphan

ja-guar: jaguar

seu-dó-ni-mo: pseudonym

Now that you have a basic about Spanish Structure Syllables, remember to study this so it makes it easy when you speak Spanish and give your pronunciation a new turn without complications. It’ll be difficult at the beginning since it would be more stuff to remember and pay attention but your speaking process will thank you later!

There are three rules that you need to follow in order to pronounce the correct syllable with the accent. In comparison with English, these rules are very strict. Like I said before, there are some irregularities with accentuation in English since people can pronounce it the way they want it by reading a word, but in Spanish there are indications that tell you the how-to’s, so you can know where to give an accentuation. You might think that it makes the language-learning hard, omg more thing to study, but the great thing is that there are no exceptions to these rules so they’re easy to follow (because you cannot change the spelling of a word lol).

RULE #1

If the word has an accent mark (accute accent), stress the part of the word where the accent is found.

te-le-vi- sión - television

can- ción - song

na-ta- ción - swimming

miér -co-les - Wednesday

RULE #2

If a words ends in a “n”, “s”, or a “vowel”, the verbal stress falls on the second to last syllable.

“n” ending words:

pien -san - they think

pa- re -cen - they seem

a- bu -rren - they bore us

co- men - they eat

“s” ending words:

bar- cos - ships

ce- lu- la- res - cellphones

com- puer- tas - floodgates/gates

e- di- fi- cios - buildings

“vowel” ending words:

ho- yue- lo - dimple

bi- lle- te- ra - wallet

chue -co - crocked

bo- ni -ta - pretty

RULE #3

When a word ends with any consonant other than “n” or “s”, the verbal stress falls on the last syllable.

in-quie- tud - restlessness/uneasiness

sa- tis- fa- cer - satisfy

es-ca- sez - scarcity/shortage

po-ten- cial - potential

I hope this can help you in your pronunciation improvement. You can also check this syllabification website: TIP ENG (eng. version) but i’ll drop the spanish version if you want to check it as well: TIP SPA (spanish version). There might be one or two mistakes when it comes to the explanations but I think is very complete.

This is all for today, as always thank you for reading!! Have a wonderful Spanish learning!! :)

#studyblr #langblr #spanish #spanish learning #spanish langblr #spanish language #spanish pronunciation #spanish accent #pronunciation #accent #syllables #spanish syllables #study #adelinestudiess #athenastudying #studyblresp #spanishblr #spanishlandia #mine #langblrnet

[cosplayinlovenikki]

Cosplay #457

Yuri Plisetsky (Yuri!!! on Ice)

Outfit details undercut

Hair: Golden Silver Fairy Tale • Rare

Coat: Meow-Wee

Top: Heartbeat Must-buy

Bottoms: Leather Trousers

Shoes: Nipped Boots•Leopard

Makeup: Thunder Faith

Hair Ornament: Bizarre Storm

Right Handheld: Dessert Box

Left Handheld: Consonance Cellphone

#love nikki #yuri on ice #yuri plisetsky

[moonrabbitgrimoire]

Moon Rabbit Grimoire - Sigils

Hello there! I decided to share what I currently have on my grimoire (and what I want to put there), so I’m going to start with the first pages! Hope it helps someone as a quick guide!

Sigils

What are they? Images that bear significance. Something like kanji in japanese - but also companies logos can also have power and meaning behind them, unconciously influencing people around - just like sigils.

What do you need? Pen and paper! Or pencil, or brush... Your choice.

What is its purpose? Basically, whatever you want. You can create sigils for protection, happiness, wishes or even something extremely specific - such as “I’m gonna her Adventure of a Lifetime unexpectedly this week”. Sigils give more energy for what you need.

How do you do it?

Write the “mantra” of the sigil. Basically, the meaning behind it.

Take out vowels and then take out repeated consonants

Now mix it all the letters left in drawings - break them apart in shapes, put them together and have fun until you have an image you like

Notes: pick positive words for your “mantra”; Keep it on present tense; Describe the situation you want, not just a wish.

Activating Sigils!

You need to activate the energy before using it, sort of like using a password to enter your e-mail. When you are crafting the sigil, it will be filled with energy, but after activation, it will be done  ;)

With Fire

Draw on a piece of paper and burn it;

Leave it near the flame of a candle;

With Air

Draw it in wind chimes;

With Water

Draw it in something that dissolves on water;

Draw it on a roc and throw in a body of running water;

Draw it in yourself and wash it away during the shower;

With Earth

Transfer energy from a crystal;

With Light

Leave it under the sun/moon;

With Technology

Leave it under a charging cellphone;

Post it on social media;

With Personal Energy

Draw it in yourself before exercising;

Draw it on your shoe and take a walk;

Other

Draw in a piece of paper and tear it apart.

The activation method can vary according to your intent. Such as: fire means passion, courage, wrath. Water means protection. Air means creativity. And so on.

After crafting the sigil, the magic is done. Your intentions are out there in the Universe and so is the energy used to create and charge the sigil.

Any tips and suggestions are more than welcome!

Happy sigil crafting!

#grimoire #sigil magic #sigilcraft #witch #witchcraft #magic #magick #spells #i have no idea what to write here #how do you choose tags