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go-to-the-mirror · 1 year

Text

HEY WELL AT LEAST THEY'RE NONBINARY RIGHT?

he/they jonbinary rights. also oh god oh fuck, time for MAG 132.

@a-mag-a-day

CW: canon- typical suicidal ideation and attempt, canon-typical self sacrificial tendencies. Both discussed more frankly than in the actual podcast.

Also, I'm allowing myself free use of my reaction images (with image descriptions) because I'm in SHAMBLES. Mostly words though.

ARCHIVIST Hello, Melanie. I know I said we’d wait until Basira was back, but I don’t… I’m sorry. I know she won’t… She’d want to do it a different way.

headinhands

Wish me luck. Although, I suppose if you’re hearing this, then I didn’t have any.

The way he says "wish me luck" with that levity and then just hhh like yk joking is one his coping mechanisms for like, crushing fear and grief and stuff, and just the way they SAY it just makes me want to CRY, AAA

I don’t know. I’m… I’m scared. When does the fear go away?

I remember in my first listen, this line stood out to me, I was in shambles, shambles. "When does the fear go away" I'm so, so sorry Jon.

[ID: Drawing of a person sitting at a computer, hands covering their face, crying. /End ID]

Anyway, I’m sorry. You too, Basira, if you’re hearing this. I know you’d stop me. You’d be right to, but … But if this goes wrong, all you lose is … I’m not risking anyone else.

This is a suicide note. Now, he's hoping he'll get out -- probably -- maybe -- but that. It is. Similar. The apology. All you lose is another monster. He might get stuck there forever, he's terrified, he's doing this for someone he doesn't even like out of guilt, out of the crushing -- ha -- amount of guilt, over Tim, over Daisy, over Martin and Basira and Melanie, over his... victims.

In case I don't make it. In case I don't get lucky.

Jonny stop making this podcast so good I'm going to cry.

Let’s do this one properly.

A reference to the Unknowing, where they... did not do it properly.

Stone steps. Roughly hewn. They… They keep going.

Just wanted to point out that he's like, ooh, information gathering. For information's sake, for the people in Artefacts. I think it's neat that he's doing this, and it's a way that makes sense in the world to let us know what's going on. Like how in Malevolent, Arthur's blind and John describes stuff in eloquent detail like some sort of poet or whatever, the statement givers describe the environment and people in their statements, and Jon is describing The Buried.

[The Archivist struggles forward]

Jon's voice in this, it sounds like they're confined, Jonny did a great job on the voice acting there. And the soundscaping in general is like, oh boy claustrophobia time! It's so good.

ARCHIVIST I heard someone. He was begging for me to save him. He said he couldn’t breathe. I can barely breathe. I couldn’t find him, but I am not here for him. I don’t even know him.

The Buried and putting you under the crushing weight of responsibility? Jon went into the coffin because he felt 'crushing' guilt over Tim's death and Daisy's imprisonment in the coffin, and the whole mess that The Unknowing was. In the coffin he's being called by others, and the responsibility of their safety is put on him. Now obviously it's not the other victims who are at fault, however it's interesting that The Buried does that. Perhaps that's how it makes people stay in it, alongside the spooky magic. With putting the responsibility of others on them, making them dig themselves a hole, and not be able to climb out. But Jon has Daisy's tapes as an anchor, he has a purpose, and so he can press on without getting too weighed down?

Just some thoughts.

For all this place closes around me, I feel adrift, like nothing can get through the dirt and the muck and …

This reminds me of how a lot of people say that The Buried and The Vast are quite similar, as an example -- the statement in MAG 195 - Adrift could be either Buried or Vast, big creature, but also crushing depths of water and drowning, but also lots of water. Also the categorizations aren't really like that, again like gender and colours.

The air is heavy – soil and dust. I am very thirsty, but I know I won’t die of it.

Two fun facts about me!

1. I used to live in a desert and the air was like weighted blanket air. I loved it.

2. I used to forget to drink water a lot, and I'd go days where I'd drink like... a glass? Now I drink a minimum of two glasses a day because meds, which has really helped lessen the constant headaches lol. Yea um. Drink water, kiddos.

[He struggles to breath as the Buried squeezes him. The Buried relaxes.]

THE SOUND EDITORS THIS EPISODE WERE KILLING IT!

DAISY —just alone. I think, I think … I hear this, sometimes, singing, when it’s wet. Or, or scratching, trying to get out. But I don’t … I don’t think there’s anyone there. It’s just been me, until now.

Fay Roberts did an excellent job as well. The voice acting <333 10/10 no notes, or like yes notes, and the notes are Feeling Claustrophobic well done.

ARCHIVIST It’s okay, I’ve, uh … I’ve got a plan. DAISY This like all your other plans?

If by "all [their] other plans" she means impulsive, borderline suicidal, and likely to fail... yes.

ARCHIVIST No. I know where we are. There is no out. Not here. This is … This is forever deep below creation, where the weight of existence bears down. This is the Buried, and we are alive. There isn’t even an up. Oh God. What have I done? What have I done?

I really like the way he delivers that line, especially the "This is the Buried, and we are alive" and "Oh God" parts.

DAISY Not alone, though? ARCHIVIST No. No, not alone.

[ID: A blurry screenshot of CC!GoodTimesWithScar from his stream. He's a bit further away from the camera than usual for streams, and has his head in his hands. /End ID]

DAISY Scared. I’m scared. I’ve been scared the whole time here, not just when it’s crushing, when it fills your mouth with dirt. It knows when to stop, or when to ease back so you don’t lose it or grow numb. Leaves you terrified for when it starts again, and when it does, you’re scared it’ll never stop.

My friend, Jay Mapleejay -- who you should follow by the way, @/mapleejay or @/mapleeowl everywhere -- once wondered how the Domains in the Eyepocolypse kept people afraid without the memory loss like in MAG 170. And there's your answer probably.

Also :(

The Hunt was me, but I don’t think I liked it. I think it just made me need it.

Idk what to say, just like this line.

I don’t … I don’t know who I am without the chase. I just know that I don’t like who I was back outside. I don’t want to be her again. I want to be better.

Same for this.

ARCHIVIST One thing I’ve learned, Daisy, is that we all get a choice. Even if it doesn’t feel like one.

Themes of choice in The Magnus Archivessssss this podcast makes me abnormal in so many ways <333

ARCHIVIST And now? DAISY Don’t know. I miss dreaming. You don’t sleep down here. ARCHIVIST Daisy, you should know I’m … If I wasn’t human before, I’m even less human now. DAISY Yeah, well. At the moment, I don’t care. ARCHIVIST And if we get out? DAISY But we can’t get out. [The Earth shifts.] (The Archivist grunts in pain.) DAISY (Pained) I’m sorry. I’m sorry, John. I’m sorry.

I just really like this exchange :(

[The coffin door creaks open and, groaning with effort, the Archivist and Daisy crawl out into the office. There are many tape recorders playing in the background.] [...] ARCHIVIST Tape recorders. M-must be dozens of them.

The Web my absolute beloathed. Now, I love Martin K-Anchor Blackwood as much as the next hopeless (a)romantic, however I don't think that it was Martin's love for Jon that pulled Jon out The Buried, I think it was The Web. Well, The Web definitely influenced Martin, however we do know that The Web has used their... undying love for one another against them *cough cough* *wink wink* *nudge nudge*, so it could have been the act of Martin leaving the tape recorders, but my personal theory is that it was just The Web. Uh oh, Jo(h)n (/ref).

Anyway! Ain't it great! Daisy's back! Jon isn't constantly alone!

He...

I'm going to have a lot of talking to do come MAG 136.

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tortilla-of-courage · 3 years

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Describing it as being like home is actually pretty accurate yeah.

And YES! I am totally willing to talk about my modern AU.

I've been calling it the Adoption AU because Time ends up adopting all of the boys. It mostly started as, I saw an edit for a tweet someone did with Wars and Wild that involved Taco Bell (cannot remember the blog or post for the life of me though), and so I wrote a thing about Warriors sneaking out of his university dorm to pick up Wild, who snuck out the window despite his broken arm, and then got extorted by Legend in exchange for silence at 3am.

This was followed by a fic where Groose decided spray painting a public building was a good idea and got himself and Sky arrested, set earlier in the timeline.

So then I made a timeline. Twilight is Time and Malon's biological son, and he found Wild on the side of the road one day (Wild's backstory involves a bad car wreck and an underground hospital, but no conspiracy bullshit. Yet). Wild has no memory, so they keep him. Wild brings home Legend, who was told his uncle died at school before a holiday. They then also keep Legend. Malon finds Four in her barn one morning for complicated reasons, and they keep him too. Twilight finds Warriors, who is in his class, hiding in an alley one day after he ran away from an abusive home and brings him home too. SS Impa (who I've nicknamed Shield because there are enough prominent Impas here that they should get nicknames too) is a social worker who's trying to find Sky a home and has run out of options, and turns to Time, who has a record of successfully housing 'unhousable' youths, and asks if he can take one more. He can. Wild finds Hyrule and brings him home because 'Rule needs a shower even more than Wild does. Hyrule stays. Wind's grandma ends up with Wind and his sister but can't financially take care of both and so Wind ends up with the boys and everyone is +1 Grandma.

Twilight has a fic detailing how he knows Midna and Dusk and I ended up shooting him (oops) but at least their social project gets handed in on time.

Then I started hashing out Time's backstory and suddenly this AU had plot. And organized crime. And a conspiracy. And secret societies.

The summarized version is that the gems from OoT are like, Idk what they do yet. Haven't gotten to a point where I need to figure that out yet. But they are Important and have to be carefully guarded. The Great Deku Tree (just called Deku because he's not a tree here) was Time's foster father before Ganondorf killed him. Also, Ganondorf is Deku's half brother. Because. However Time 'stole' the Emerald and he and Navi ran until OoT Impa (Sage) and Lullaby found them. So Time got adopted into Lullaby's family. Ruto inherited the Sapphire from her mother who also died from mysterious circumstances, and Darunia has the Ruby. Lullaby got the Ocarina from her late paternal grandmother.

Then Ganon finds them and tries to steal the Emerald from Time, so Lullaby goes looking for help and thus finds the sages. Saria is an anonymous hacker who uses the screen name 'Kokiri'. Time reveals he didn't steal the Emerald, he was Deku's heir, and then Navi goes missing. Time is home worried enough that he's physically sick, and Ganon decides to try and attack the home. Only Lullaby's family is Olde Money, and they live in a big, old manor, so Lullaby as Sheik decides to play 'Home Alone' with the secret passages in the walls and they piss off Ganon because when did that brat get a sheikah bodyguard??? Sage and Rottla (Lullaby's mother, who is fully sheikah as well) rush home from a thing and Kokiri is running a play by play watching the security cameras.

I pull in my headcanon that Time was killed in the Downfall Timeline by getting impaled on Ganon's tusk and Ganondorf stabs him with the tusk of a mounted boar head and then Sheik shows up to protect his brother, and then Mama gets home and is not happy to find this man in her home attacking her kids. Time is fine, but Navi stays missing. (She's alive tho.)

Also, Time's foster dad was the last leader of a secret society known as The Order of The Lost Woods, and Time learns this upon meeting Tatl, who gets him sucked into another event that would probably make a good action movie. I have thought too much about the Order and it's hierarchy, but what's important here is that Time ends up with a standing job offer and Tatl and he remain friends and we find out how I fit FD into this AU. It's not pretty. This is where Time loses his eye too.

The AoC came out and I added that Link in as Wild's twin brother and he shows up during the main plot.

Which starts with Twi getting kidnapped. (I'm not really meaner to him than the others, I swear, he's just the most logical choice to be Time's heir. Which he is. He doesn't know this though.)

So he's kidnapped by Ganondorf, who broke out of jail, Zant, who shot Twi in highschool, and Ghirahim, who has some history with Sky I haven't fleshed out yet and a very public rivalry with Warriors over twitter. About six weeks later Sage finds him in an abandoned warehouse (because of course) with a shackle on his left arm and a lot of new injuries. He ends up fine, but he tells Time later in the hospital what happened and he's both message and messenger and Time is this close to just committing murder. Tatl talks him down.

Somewhere here is the half finished fic where I introduce AoC Link as Luke/Knight, and this is as far as I've plotted thus far.

Other tidbits: Wild and Lullaby/Sheik are both genderfluid, Lullaby/Sheik married Ruto, Wild has a very popular YouTube channel, Twi does drag racing sometimes, Sky has a pet bird, Four has DID to explain how the Colours are here too, and Wolfie exists in the form of a random wolf-dog Wild found and brought home that Legend somehow convinced half the family was Twilight. Also, Warriors has somehow befriended an entire sorority and he doesn't know how this happened.

This... got long. As you can see I have a lot of thoughts about the Adoption AU. It's gotten a bit away from me, I'll admit. This went from 'Wild does stunts on his motorbike and keeps breaking bones but somehow not the bike' to 'Twilight got kidnapped and Time is the target of a mafia that Ganon runs and also maybe killed a man once' and I don't know how that happened. Also, this is the condensed version of the summary. My actual summary/outline is much, much longer than this. So if there's any detail you want more on, feel free to say so and I'll happily go into more detail (there are so many things I didn't even mention....)

And yes, Robbie having a bong is very important to my best friend, for some reason. He has one in a modern AU and he probably invented one in canon. I happen to agree that this makes sense for his character, if anyone would invent a bong in LoZ it's Robbie (this is such an anticlimactic end to this ask after the stuff about the modern AU...)

Also, sorry for the long ass ask. I genuinely don't know how to condense the Adoption Au down any further. There's a lot of important plot beats to cover, and I still skipped things.

-Attllhak

oh my GOD???? if you ever write and post this somewhere id love to read it, the level of "crazy" conspiracy/action movie elements implemented sound sosososo cool, from Ganondorf being Deku's half brother to trying to "send a message" via Twi and- just- all of this is SO good.i sat here and reread this ask like 3 times as if that would magically spawn more info about it ahaha

there's so much to unpack here but it's honestly so worth it i love every single detail!!! i can imagine the actual outline being way longer, nad honestly that just makes me the more excited/curious about all that might be missing from this ask - i cant believe it started with Wild and Wars going to Taco Bell of all things

also i can totally see Robbie making a bong, no matter the setting or AU. fits him a lot I'd say

and dont worry about long asks!! i adore opening up my askbox to see one ask take over the entire thing, it makes me really happy aha

#attllhak #im once again rendered speechless (in a good way) by your creative mind attllhak #tortilla asks #long post #linked universe #ask to tag #injury mention

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prorevenge · 4 years

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I help someone get revenge on their gold-digging ass of an SO

This happened some years ago but was just reminded of it, so here you go Tumblr!

I worked as a front desk agent in a large luxury hotel chain for some years. One particular hotel I worked at was located really close to the downtown area and so we got a large number of young, very wealthy, business people who loved to party. I usually worked the 2nd & 3rd shifts which meant I got to see loads of drunken hookups, breakups, cheating, hookers, and more.

This particular one though...this is one I will never forget.

I was working at the desk when a group of young, well-dressed men come walking in. They've all clearly been drinking, but aren't so drunk that they can't walk right and hold a conversation.

One of them comes up to me and tells me that while he and his friends were at the bar, a woman was hitting on him, and even though he told her no multiple times she wouldn't stop. So he and his friends left and it wasn't until they got in the Uber that he realized he didn't have his room key anymore. He thinks she took it and he's concerned that she may come up to his room, he asked that I deactivate his keys and if she does come up to the hotel to not let her in.

When he was telling me all of this, it didn't sit right with me. He and his friends were all grinning about it and snickering amongst one another. Then he gave a clear description of her, without being asked. Told me height, body shape, hair color, and style, the kind of dress she was wearing. All while saying it in a mocking tone.

Now, this could have easily been because he thought the whole thing was ridiculous or was too drunk to take it seriously, but it really didn't sound right to me. Either way, I did as I was trained in that situation. I pulled up his reservation, deactivated the keys as requested, made him a new set when he showed me his ID, and even offered to move him to a new room if that would make him feel more comfortable. He and his buddies all laughed a little at that and he declined, took the keys and they went to their room.

About an hour or so later, the woman he described showed up. Now, by this point, my relief for the night had also shown up and was sitting at the front desk while I was in the back office counting down my cash drawer. I hadn't had a chance to tell him about the woman. Just as I'm walking out of the back office with my bag and about to leave, I see my coworker buzz the doors open and the woman comes rushing in, cuts through the lobby and down the hall to the elevators. She was barefoot, holding her heels in her hands, and knew exactly where she was going.

I rushed up to him and told him what the man from before had told me about her. My coworker looked at me confused. He then pointed to the screen that had the reservation pulled up and told me that when the woman arrived, she went to use the room keys and they didn't work. So he asked for her room number and last name, she gave both and her name is on the reservation. I looked at the reservation and down in the notes, there was a woman's name listed. The man from before was listed as the primary, but her name was listed as secondary with his consent to be in the room.

I was confused, I thought maybe she wasn't the same woman he was talking about. But, to be on the safe side I called the man in his room and told him the situation and that we allowed a woman, fitting that description he gave, to enter the building because she confirmed her name was on the room. He laughed, said he forgot her name was on the room and asked that I remove it. I was now super confused, I asked to make sure:

Me: "Sir...just to be clear, the woman you met at the bar tonight was with you at check-in hours ago and was allowed keys then, but now she is not?"

Him: (laughs to all his friends in the room) "Awww....guys I confused the poor girl." (gets back on the phone with me) "Yeah sweetheart, she's banned from the room. Don't worry about the other details, just take her name off."

Me: "...I see. Then, if she isn't going to be on the room anymore, would you like us to call the police and have her removed from the property?"

Him: "Hahaha...woah! That's too far there. Don't worry, she'll get the hint soon enough."

We ended the call there and I got really suspicious of this. I told my coworker to not do anything and that I was going to stick around for a bit to see if anything happened.

A short time later the woman came off the elevator, pouring tears, sobbing while on the phone with someone. She sat down in our lobby and my coworker and I tried to look busy while eavesdropping hard on her phone call.

She was sobbing on the phone to her mom and sister. From what she told them, she was invited out to spend the week with her boyfriend meeting all of his old college buddies. This being their first-night they all met up for dinner and drinks. After a bit, she went to the restroom and when she came back she caught her boyfriend hitting on another woman. His friends all bet that he wouldn't do it. When she confronted him pissed off, he called her a bunch of names and humiliated her in front of his friends and the entire bar. All of his friends joined in on mocking her and he threw in her face that she was "nothing without him" and dumped her right there. He and his friends then took an Uber back and left her stranded at the bar with no money and no way back. She then had to use her phone's GPS and walk back to the hotel from the bar, barefoot (she had heels, and walking 2 miles in those was not going to cut it). She was asking her mom and sister for help as he wouldn't let her in the room to get her luggage or her wallet.

My heart broke. I felt horrible. I helped this guy treat this poor woman like crap and now he and all his friends were up there laughing at her while she's sitting in our lobby sobbing and with nothing. I went over to our snacks area in the lobby, grabbed her a bottled water, and brought it to her. I told her that I couldn't help but overhear the conversation and was very sorry for her situation and asked if she would like us to help. I informed her that if he was keeping her from getting to her things, we could call the police and have them force him to hand over her things so she could leave if she'd like. Or if she wanted to let her mom or sister pay for a room we'd be happy to give her a very low rate in a room far from him.

She thanked me, took the water, and tried to calm down and talk to me about what all was happening and what her options were. Eventually, we decided on her staying in the hotel for the night and figuring out the rest in the morning. As we make it to the desk, she asks me to try and run her credit card to see if it has enough on it for another room. I ask her what she means by "another room" and she tells me that she's actually paying for the room he's in. That his name is on the room because he booked it, but it's her card paying for everything.

This intrigued me. I asked why she was paying for the room if it was in his name. She told me that she's the one with a job, not him. That he hasn't been able to find a job in his field since graduating from college and is essentially living off of his parents' money. But just after they started dating, his parents cut him off, so he's been living off of her money. That's why she was so upset and confused by how he had been acting all night, he was sweet and doing everything for her back home, but since he met up with his friends he did a 180 and hasn't been the same guy the entire time.

I wanted to tell her that it was obvious he was using her for the money and that he would probably blame his friends for all of this and try to get back with her later on. But I doubted she would have listened to me or cared for a complete stranger to butt in on her personal life like that. So instead, I offered up a sweet piece of revenge.

I informed her that, considering she's the one paying for the room, if she can confirm that it is her card on file with some sort of photo ID and verify the last 4 digits of the card number (That's honestly all this hotel company required) then she could, if she wanted to, kick him out of the room and keep it all to herself. But, considering how poorly her night has been, if she were indeed able to prove she is the one paying for the room, then I'd be more than happy to provide for her the biggest luxury upgrade we offered at our property. Largest suite we had, full hotel ammenity access, I'd even have my coworker fish out a bottle of champagne and some fresh strawberries for her to have sent to her room. All free of charge.

She was taken aback by the offer and was very sincerely tempted, she looked like she was about to say no. Then I told her that since she would be upgrading her room, that would require moving her things from that room and into her new one. Which mean the room that she is currently listed in would need to be vacated immediately, if anyone were to remain in the room after we have demanded it be vacated, we are required to have them escorted off the property or they pay for the room. Their choice.

She then thought about it, pulled up her card's banking app and showed me the screen. It had a photo of her, her full name, the card's full number, and the hold from our hotel for the room. She asked if that worked. It was good enough for me.

I quickly upgraded her, moved everything over in the system and before I could say a word to my coworker he was already grabbing a set of master keys, a bell cart and was asking her what her luggage looked like since he would be the one retrieving it for her to deliver to her room. He didn't want her to have to deal with her ex again. She smiled and told him which ones were hers and that she hadn't unpacked yet.

My coworker runs down to the elevators and up to fetch her things. While I make her a new set of keys and send her off to her new room. Once she's on the elevator, my phone at the desk starts ringing. It's the ex-boyfriend and he's very angry about why my coworker has entered the room and is taking her things. I calmly explain that I cannot give out the private information of any of our guests and that if he would like to remain in his room he will need to pay for it as there is no longer a method of payment on his room.

He. Blew. Up.

He's making a ton of demands and at the same time yelling at my coworker to stop what he's doing, but its obvious from the way he's yelling at him that my coworker isn't listening to him. I can even hear the guy's friends telling him to chill out and just pay for the room.

I then explain that we will give him a courtesy 10 mins to make a decision. At which point, if he doesn't have payment ready then he must vacate the building or we will be forced to call the authorities and have him evicted. He continues to yell at me. He screams, swears, threatens, and yells for a solid minute before taking a breath. I then tell him he has 9 mins remaining and asks if he has come to a decision yet. He hangs up on me.

9 minutes later I call the room and he doesn't answer. I call again, no answer. I call a third time, he picks up, then immediately hangs up. I call the police and tell them what's going on and they said they're on their way.

The officers arrive, I tell them what's going on, we go up to the room together and the man and his friends are all white as ghosts when they see the cops. The cops explain to the ex-boyfriend and his friends that they're being evicted. The ex-bf starts trying to talk to me but the cops stop him and tell him to only talk to them (I told him about his attitude on the phone before). The friends are all offering to pay for the room at this point and the cops look to me and ask if that would be acceptable. I smile very sweetly and say "no" and the cops nod and start rushing all of the guys to grab their things and leave the room. The ex-bf is the last one out the door carrying his 2 bags and complaining that he isn't even given a luggage cart and has to carry his own things. His friends all look pissed at him.

I go with the officers to escort all of them out of the building and run into my coworker in the lobby. He waits until they're all outside in the parking lot to tell me that the woman is in her new room, loves it, and said no to the champagne, she just wanted to sleep.

I didn't get to see her before she left town the next day, but the ex-bf did try calling our hotel to complain a number of times and even tried leaving some bad reviews of us online and lied through all of it. I hope she doesn't have to ever deal with him again.

(source) story by (/u/Anonymous_Annie5523)

#prorevenge #by /u/Anonymous_Annie5523 #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

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skellebonez · 2 years

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*SLAMS IN HERE* would you please do a directors commentary on this fic: skellebonez. tumblr. com/ post /666596864764854272 /i-know-you-wanted-to-write-more-macaque-and-mei (spaces bc tumblrs shitty ask system) the one with macaque and mei on that camping trip? or maybe pick your favorite bit? its one of my absolute fuckin fave fics and id love to how you got to that story from the prompts!! ciao!

I'M SO SORRY I ANSWERD THIS LAST NIGHT AND SAVED IT TO MY DRAFTS INSTEAD OF POSTING IT FOR SOME REASON.

So this fic! I had a blast and a half writing it! I really wanted to have the chance to explore how I felt Macaque's immortality worked from a perspective closer to his own. Originally it was going to be a little less intense but... well, it was around Halloween! I let myself have a little more fun with the details. I also felt genuinely bad for Mac when I wrote the segments describing the removal of the shard, even if he was still a bad guy I'd feel for putting anyone through that.

There was also a scene with Mei patching up Macaque when they first got into the tent, but I felt it was redundant with both of the patching scenes so I took the moment she pulls the knife bit out and put it later in. Cutting it down made it flow better and drag on less to me. I also cut a segment with the villains talking to Macaque as they fought, but to fit better in with the Cursed AU timeline for Winter I felt leaving it vague so she could put it wherever was best.

Honestly my favorite bit was just getting to use my personal headcanon that Mei has field medic training! I have no reason for this other than I think it makes her more badass.

And you are always free to ask about ANY fic at any time!

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bookwyrminspiration · 2 years

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I have no clues how to submit and anon submission but!! I drew the Echo Cat and sent a picture to your inbox!! If you wanted to put it in a post to talk about it then please do, if its not too much trouble-

I'm probably jsut being dumb with the submissions though, and sorry if I'm coming off as rude or insistan or anything-

Have a nice night!!

-Heathen

okay so this took me...longer than it should have to answer but!! I am here now!!! and maybe one day we'll figure out this anon submission thing and won't have to take circuitous routes to look at such incredible art, but today is not that day!!

also it's no trouble at all to talk about it! I love looking at people's art (once I get through more asks I hope to go through a bunch of people's work and reblog it because so much of my blog is just me talking). And you're not coming off as rude or insistent or anything! Anyone is welcome to direct my attention anywhere they'd like, whether it be different art and fics (including your own), books, movies, shows, etc. they'd like me to check out. I'm here to infodump about kotlc, yes, but also to be friendly with you all, and that's easier when talking goes both ways!! So feel free to direct me to different things!

and now onto the art!!! (I'm posting the digital one instead of the first sketch, but if you'd like that one included just let me know and I'll add it)

[ID in alt text.]

I am. I am in love with this cat-like this oh. oh it's so nice. Everything about this drawing is!! Better than every expectation I could've possibly had when you said you drew Echo. Did I have any expectations? no. But you did such an incredible job!!

Your detailing is so clean, like all those little tufts of fur throughout the body. They look spiky but also soft and comforting and I just wanna pick it up and hold it and pet it. The ears too!! The way you've positioned them is so smooth, which is very satisfying. And you've kept Echo looking black in color while also still adding shadows, so huge kudos to you!! Working with black can be difficult when so much of the depth just...doesn't show up even irl, so it's very impressive how you've used the lighting to create areas where the shadow will show.

The expression!! Echo can't really have the big pupils cuteness in its expression given that its eyes are just plain white, so I love how you've brought in the tongue to still give that adorable factor while staying true to its design! The eyebrows too!! I forget that animals can be drawn with eyebrows, but given Echo's different capacity for facial expressions it makes a lot of sense! Idk what it is about the shape of the eyes but I absolutely love them--they're so fluid and it fits in perfectly with its whole vibe.

And then the glitch effect!! The star of the show!! A lot of the time glitches will be in like reds and greens and really vibrant colors, but the way you've done it with black and white to match Echo's color scheme...incredible, fantastic, show-stopping, pure ecstasy, enthralling, captivating!! And then there's also the hints of color that tie it all together!! I use the word glitch to describe how it moves to much and like..yesss, now I can see it actually glitchy like in the tech way!! Absolutely marvelous.

You have absolutely outdone yourself with this one!! I love everything about it and will treasure this Echo for eternity--seriously it's so cool seeing people draw art of the wings au, given that I'm just here writing what I think is interesting. And here you are, not only reading it but creating for it?? Thank you so much, I can't even put into words how thrilling it is, so I really appreciate you sharing it with me <33

#me not answering this ask for a hot minute is not because I don't like the art or don't appreciate it #I legit forgot you sent it. otherwise I would've answered sooner!!#so you're welcome to bombard me with reminders if you ever send more art #on a related note #today I figured out some important things for the plot for the wings au #which might hurt to write but ooo I'm excited #there are several parts of the au that are like wow that's weird I'll have to explain that and figure that out at some point #and then when I finally do it's like !!! huzzah!!!#the number of things I do not know about the au that I have convinced you all I know...#kotlc wings au #wings au fanart #other's art #heathen nonsie #shattered upside down #also i will try to have a nice night!! today has been wonky but it's okay. I shall survive #might minedkraft later #idk why I spelled it like that but I'm not taking it back #I hope you have a nice afternoon/night as well!#sud echo

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seagreen-meets-grey · 3 years

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The Last Slide: Ch. 2

@feeisamarshmallow here is the second chapter ♥

Read on ao3

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Chapters: 1 2 3 4

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The smell of chlorine hit Jake’s nose as soon as he stepped through the front door of the Tropic Thunder Aqua Park. Following Amy to the information desk, he envied the little groups of people striding past him to the ticket window, bags slung over their shoulders, inflatable crocodiles and donuts and flamingos under their arms. Once this case was closed, he needed to find a free day for Amy, Mac and him to come back here. Or maybe to a different water park, one with less murder history.

Amy greeted the teenager behind the desk, flashing her badge and ID. The boy’s brows scrunched in momentary confusion, then he paled a few subtle shades. But when Amy mentioned his boss calling because of the case, his shoulders relaxed. Jake wondered if the boy had done something to assume they were here because of him, or if he was just nervous. The name tag on his orange t-shirt read Julius.

He picked up a desk phone and pressed a few buttons, relaying the information of their arrival. Then he fumbled with his hands and bounced on his heels. “Can I get you anything? A water? Dolphin-shaped cookies?”

Jake opened his mouth to ask for those, but Amy spoke before he could.

“No, thank you, Julius.” She offered him a sympathetic smile. “It must feel awful to be working right now.” The boy nodded, relaxing further and dropping down into his chair.

“It’s weird,” he admitted. “When I came to start my shift, there were crime techs everywhere. And they wheeled out a gurney with a black body bag. I thought this only happened on TV.” He shuddered, glancing off into his memories.

“Did you notice anything unusual lately, Julius?” While still smiling motherly, her tone was ever-professional. The kid was easy to trust her. A wave of pride welled up inside Jake. This was his wife.

Julius shook his head. “I don’t think so. I mean, Francesca said she saw the dead guy argue with Darius last week, but she also believes in yetis, so.”

“Who’s Francesca and Darius?” Jake asked.

“Francesca Roberts and Darius are lifeguards; they work here as pool attendants. I don’t know Darius’ last name, I’m sorry.”

“Did Francesca hear what the argument was about?”

Julius shook his head as behind him, a door opened and a tall middle-aged man with sandy hair and the body of a swimmer stepped through. He wore the same white shorts as Julius but his shirt was baby-blue, without a name tag.

With a polite smile, he reached out his hand over the desk. “Sam Kirkwell, I’m the head of Tropic Thunder. I spoke to your colleague on the phone this morning.”

Amy shook his hand. “Lieutenant Santiago of the 99th precinct, this is Detective Peralta. Is there anywhere we can talk more privately?”

“Of course.” Kirkwell waved them behind the desk and through the door he had just entered through. They walked through a small break room, then down a narrow, cream-painted hallway and into an office. Kirkwell sat behind the desk and gestured at the chairs on the other side, waiting for them to sit before leaning forward and folding his hands on the desk.

“Now how can I help you?”

They went over the details of the case, Amy taking notes rigorously while Jake painted a picture in his imagination, forming the scene, adding everything he’d already read in the file and everything Kirkwell told them. So far, the details added up.

The water park had opened at 9 in the morning. At 9:53, a man – Lars Pearson, 43 years old, Caucasian, warehouse worker – came out of the Disco, a popular water slide, with a poisoned dart in his neck. The first cops on the scene assumed he was hit before going down the slide, but security footage showed him happy, healthy, alive at the top. In the middle of the ride, he came through the funnel, but with the disco lights dancing around and no extra light source, the camera in there didn’t show enough to see the dart. No one followed him down in immediate succession, the next person started the ride once the victim had already been at the end.

Everyone leaving the water park since then had left their contact information. Witnesses could only describe that nothing had been out of the ordinary when Pearson had waited in line for the slide. Nobody had seen anyone with a blowpipe or dart gun. Pool attendants as well as camera footage didn’t deliver them any more information, either.

The victim had no family except for a bedridden father and a brother. Had come to the water park with two co-workers who could also not report anything unusual. No fingerprints had been found on the dart.

“I reopened the park, including the slide, about an hour ago,” Kirkwell continued. “Your people were already gone and the officers said there was no more evidence that had to be saved.”

Jake and Amy both huffed in annoyance. It was one thing to move the body if it otherwise floated around the pool. Any possible evidence left in the water slide, however, they could forget. Kirkwell didn’t seem to have thought that far ahead and whoever had given him clearance to reopen hadn’t either. But they would go and see what they could make of it.

“One more thing,” Jake said when Kirkwell was about to show them the slide, “Julius mentioned two pool attendants we’d like to talk to. Francesca Roberts and another one named Darius.”

“Darius Erickson, yes.” Kirkwell looked at his watch. “Francesca should still be around here somewhere and Darius is about to end his shift in a few minutes. I’ll have them wait in here.”

“Actually,” Amy held up a hand, “we’d like to see them before we inspect the slide.”

That didn’t seem to fit into Kirkwell’s plans, but he schooled his expression into a polite smile and nodded. “Of course. I’ll be right back.”

As soon as the door closed behind him, Amy groaned. “How careless can you be?!” she grumbled. “Now we’ll have to investigate in-between a horde of civilians!”

Jake smirked. “You mean we’ll have to ride the slide to search for clues?”

“Seems like it.” She sighed in defeat but Jake was having none of it.

“Admit it, you want to. Otherwise, you’d just order Kirkwell to close the place until we’re done with the investigation.”

“We don’t even have our swimming gear and– You packed it, didn’t you.” He didn’t have to say anything, the grin on his face confirmed her assumption.

The door opened again a few minutes later and Kirkwell pushed a man and a woman inside. Before he could close the door behind himself, Amy turned to him. “We’d like to speak to them alone, please. Mr. Erickson, if you could also please wait outside while we talk to Ms. Roberts.”

“This is stupid, I already talked to the cops this morning, my shift is over! I want to leave, right now,” Erickson ranted but Jake just sternly gestured at the door. It was something he’d practiced a lot on Mac whenever he’d come out of his room before his tantrum-induced time-out had ended. Erickson reacted similarly while leaving the room, slamming the door behind him.

“Ms. Roberts, please sit,” Amy told the woman. She looked in her mid-fifties, had bleached hair with a gray hairline and her orange t-shirt looked a size too small. “We’ve been told you witnessed an argument between Mr. Erickson and Mr. Pearson last week. Can you tell us more about that?”

Roberts shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. When I left the building last Thursday after my shift, I saw Darius in a heated conversation with someone. I didn’t care because he’s been moody ever since his wife left him a few months ago. I only remembered about it when I saw the body…” She gulped. “It was the guy Darius argued with, I’m sure.”

Darius Erickson confirmed that not much later. “Fine, yes. I knew Lars. That son of a bitch is the reason my wife left me.” He was sitting on the edge of his seat, arms crossed in front of him. The light from the ceiling was shining on his balding head and the crease between his brows was thicker than Terry’s biceps. (So to speak. Jake wouldn’t want anyone to actually hold him to that.)

“I know what you’re thinking,” Erickson continued, “but I already told your colleagues this morning, I didn’t do it! I was late to work, my car’s in the shop, my brother drove me. When I arrived, cops were already here.”

Amy neatly wrote everything down on her notepad. “We’ll need your brother’s contact information, Mr. Erickson.” The man threw his arms up in the air with a huff. “We need to check your alibi in order to drop you as a suspect. We ask you to not leave the city and to be ready for more questions.”

For now, they couldn’t actually bring him in for anything yet. Jake hoped they didn’t need to. Not just because that would solve and end the case way too soon, but also because Erickson would be out and about as long as they didn’t have actual evidence to link him to anything.

After the pool attendant had left, Jake relayed the information to Charles, and by the time they were following Kirkwell through the water park, barefoot and pant legs rolled up, Erickson’s alibi had checked out.

The air inside was warm and humid, tropical, with no breeze to provide a little cooling. Kirkwell showed them where the body was found. The Disco slide ended into a small pool area which in turn was connected to a large non-swimmer’s pool. If the body had been left in here, it really would have been floating around the park by now.

People were coming out of the tube and splashing into the tiny pool every thirty seconds or so. The chlorine in the water should have tainted every bit of evidence so far. And since the murder must have happened somewhere between Pearson’s start and end of the slide ride, Jake absolutely saw no other way than to don swim trunks and bikini and start the investigation. For the sake of work.

Amy grumbled a bit about feeling unprofessional in her own bikini while at a crime scene, but Jake could tell she was looking forward to this. She’d been way too overworked lately. And even though they were basically going to enjoy themselves at the water park, they were still going to do their jobs. It was a win-win situation.

The first three rides, though, brought no new revelations.

(That’s probably because Jake didn’t exactly go to great effort. Amy said she wanted to first get a feel for the slide so she could concentrate on the important things. So same thing, basically.)

(She couldn’t fool him.)

The slide wasn’t bustling with people anymore, so a race up the stairs to the top – so they wouldn’t lose precious investigating time, of course – made absolute sense.

“Ha!” Amy exclaimed as she hit the wall first. Jake made sure not to slip on the tiles as he came around the corner not a second later, out of breath and beaming. “I get to ride first this time.”

She got ready in front of the slide, the water gurgling down the dark tube. The light was green, so she put her hands on the pole over the entrance, leaned back for momentum, and flung herself down the tube. She disappeared behind the first turn, her adorable cry of “wheee” echoing back up to Jake.

He positioned himself, head turned to the side to get a good look at the light. As soon as the red would turn green, he’d use all his strength to propel himself down the slide. But the light didn’t change.

A handful of people gathered behind him during the next minutes, waiting in line and growing increasingly impatient. Was the signal broken? Was Amy stuck somewhere down the slide? Did she somehow manage to hit her head in the funnel and now she was lying there, unconscious, and whatever motion sensor was waiting for her at the end of the slide was going to leave the light red for all eternity?

Okay, maybe he was being a tad bit dramatic. But when it came to his wife, he wouldn’t take any chances. (Plus, he was so eager to go again, and he would be careful not to crash into her and everything, right?) She was probably waiting for him downstairs and he was still up here, contemplating ignoring a red light.

He had to admit, it felt slightly weird to do just that, but then he was already gone. Gravity took him down the black tube, around several corners, water splashing in his face constantly. He wasn’t able to see much until he took a sharp turn and found himself in the funnel. Strobe lights and LED cones in plenty of different colors were dancing across the walls, highlighting the path to where the slide continued.

As Jake let the centrifugal force carry him through the funnel, he almost bumped into a pair of legs.

“Ames!” he called out in surprise, his voice carrying around the funnel. “There you are!” With his feet, he decelerated, coming to a stop. It was harder than he’d imagined to climb to Amy at the side of the funnel, the stream of water constantly tugging at his feet. Not to mention the slippery ground in general. “I thought you broke the slide when the light didn’t turn green.”

“I just don’t understand,” she mumbled, narrowed eyes inspecting every inch of the funnel. “How could Pearson get hit with a dart in here? The whole slide is a closed space.”

Jake had an idea. “Maybe the killer waited for him in here. And when Pearson thought he’d waited for the green light long enough, he went in, and when he came here, all the killer had to do was shoot the dart, wait a bit and follow him out at a safe distance.”

Amy shook her head. “That’s what I thought as well, but remember what Kirkwell said? The cameras didn’t show any unusual patterns right before and after Pearson came out. The intervals in which people went on the slide and came out on the other side were all on par with the usual 30 seconds, give or take. And anyone waiting in here would have been filmed, anyway.”

“When did you even have time to look at the camera feed?”

“While you took forever to change into your trunks.”

“There was a long line by the changing rooms!” he exclaimed and gesticulated, which was a mistake. He almost lost his balance, teetering on the spot, one hand against the wall, the other hovering near Amy to use her as a support pillar if necessary.

“Careful, babe.” She took a step, one foot slipping, but she caught herself.

“Let’s try this,” he said, grabbing her hand and bracing himself against the wall with the other. She did the same and, using the wall and each other for balance, they walked through the funnel to wherever Amy wanted to go.

When she reached her destination, she pointed upwards, to one of the light machines. “This one’s not visible from any angle the camera can take. Do you see a dart pistol attached or is the light playing tricks on my eyes?”

Jake carefully stood on his tiptoes, narrowing his eyes at the small black device above. It wasn’t easy seeing clearly with the multi-colored strobes darting around. “Nah, there’s nothing. And I squinted pretty hard.”

Amy let her arms fall against her sides. “Then I don’t get it.”

“He could have brought the dart himself. Maybe he rode the slide one too many times and went crazy from the strobe lights.”

“Then he went home to prepare a poisoned dart arrow, returned, rode the slide, and impaled himself while the lights were watching.”

“Exactly– no, wait, you’re mocking me.”

She nodded with a glint in her eyes. “I am. I am mocking you.”

“Well, I feel very insulted, now I have to go to the wave pool to treat myself. Maybe some fries after?”

And there was the eye-roll he’d been waiting for. “Jake, we’re still working – okay, now you’re mocking me.”

He grinned and leaned over to kiss her, staggering a little but catching himself in time.

“Very professional, Peralta.”

“Hmm, I don’t hear you complaining when–”

Suddenly, a torrent of water flushed into the funnel, followed by a pair of feet, then legs, then the rest of a young teenage girl with dark pigtails and a red-and-black swimsuit. She eyed the pair confused while the pair stared at her, until she disappeared in the tube again, one single eyebrow raised at them.

Jake realized they made quite the sight, poising on the high side of the funnel in the middle of a dark water slide, one arm each around the other’s back while standing half a foot apart for balance, faces close, eyes wide, and Jake was sure his swim trunks were hanging a little low on his butt. He reached down to pull them up.

“Maybe we should–” Amy started, but that was when he lost his footing, and the fall was inevitable. They went down together, the water carrying them out of the funnel, Jake with his head first. The tube was too narrow, the ride too fast for him to change his position as he and Amy were flushed down the drain. All he could do was splutter and turn his face so that less water got into his nose and mouth and eyes, the tunnel’s change of lighting all but a blur of colors, like a disco lightning storm.

What could only have been about ten seconds until they landed in the pool felt more like a small eternity spent preparing for the end. Shaking his head like a dog, he wiped his hands over his face and accepted Amy’s hand helping him up.

“That was an unexpected ride,” she commented.

“Title of your sex tape.”

“Again, very professional.” But she was grinning, half the hair from her bun hanging into her face, tousled from the sudden wild journey.

He was about to retort with another “Title of your sex tape!” when he spotted something. “What if he wasn’t dead yet when he came out here?”

Amy followed his eyes, latching onto the same thing. “Oh my god!”

Simultaneously, they turned to each other and exclaimed, “The vents!”

They went to find Kirkwell who confirmed that, indeed, the vents were big enough for a person to fit into. Someone could have fired the deadly poisoned dart from up there as soon as Pearson exited the slide. Kirkwell promised to have every employee who had access to the vents at the precinct by the next day.

Jake tried to convince Amy to stay at Tropic Thunder a little longer, but she threw one look at him and he knew he didn’t stand a chance against the Amy Santiago Stern Mommy Look. It always worked on Mac, and it never failed to make Jake at least a little bit horny.

That night, Amy left a little late to Rosa’s as Jake hurried to meet the landlord.

He can’t remember if he ever arrived.

#b99fandomevents #b99 summer 2021 fic exchange #b99 #the last ride #b99 fic #peraltiago #jake x amy #sleuth sisters #jake peralta #amy santiago #rosa diaz #maja writes

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greyknighterotica · 4 years

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NOTE- I tried to submit this anonymously but its like 4 times over the word count, and I decided not to be a coward and let you see who I am instead 😬😬 buckle up and grab a beverage because this is long and I’m sorry 😭🤣😅.

Hi Jack! HUGE fan here. My name is Nate, and this is going to be a bit different than the messages you’re used to, I think XD. First off, I want to say that I have been a listener of yours on and off for about four years I think? I found your tumblr shortly after I turned 18 I believe. Getting to hear you call me babygirl and learning about the world of BDSM through your incredible audios was so meaningful to me, and I’m had had a lasting impression on what turns me on/how I touch myself tbh /.\.

However, in that same span of time, I started to realize that I was not a cis female as I had always thought I was. For a while I was IDing as nonbinary, then I met my boyfriend-now fiancé, and last spring I came out as trans masculine, amidst much inner turmoil. So why is this relevant to you? As someone who is pansexual, aka attracted to all genders/attracted regardless of gender, I cannot deny how compelling you are, the way it feeling as if you aren’t talking to me, or even to my body per say, but like you found some sort of direct line to a part of me that is so deep and anchored within me that the instant I hear your voice, I relax and I know exactly what is about to happen. That said, it became increasingly more difficult to listen to your content as I started to notice how being addressed as female and using she/her pronouns etc made me uncomfortable in day to day, but also in a sexual context. Now I obviously do not expect you to chance what you’re doing, if I’m no longer the target demographic. I totally accept that. But to be honest? Those moments listening to your podcast way back when were really important in me figuring out who I really am. Also, that I am an absolute people pleaser in the bedroom, that I am waaaaay kinkier than I ever would have dreamed, and also that I have a Daddy kink that goes both ways depending on who I’m with ;). I try to channel your charisma and charm when I’m dominating someone, and I’ve only had the best results.

I guess all of this is just to say, thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my......heart (and clit, lets be real) for being so incredible, so sexy, and so genuine!! I still go back and listen sometimes because I’m still hooked like everyone else, and because you are truly so daaaamn good at what you do. If you were ever open to writing/potentially commissioning a piece or two with no gendered language, (can’t promise I’ll be able to afford it tho so I won’t promise you money that I don’t have, and I support artists w/o expecting free shit), I’d be back in a heartbeat <3. That said, I truly hope that you are doing well and that this doesn’t come off as creepy! You aren’t into dudes (far as I know), and I respect that and wouldn’t want you to be attracted to me if that were the case (bcuz thatd be transphobic), so I will leave it there and I hope you have a wonderful weekend Daddy!!

PS- depending on how you respond to this, I may still submit some really hot pics i took yesterday (my ass and tits won’t quit despite me being a dude, lmao). 🥰😘💖

The question comes up from time to time, ‘why erotica for women?’ And it is especially poignant when mixed in with ‘but you are so good at not describing things like skin tone’ and ‘but you seem so open...’

So while I dearly hope you can continue to be a fan, all people who identify as non-binary or they/them or genderless or whatever manifestations of personality become commonplace--I have to make art for me.

Usually I’m pretty good at being on the dot with this. In 2020, you’ve seen the strain, and in periods where I’m just not feeling myself, I take time off.

The recurring them however is--I have to feel like me to make things. Without trying to be arrogant, let’s face it. I’m smart, and if I wanted to be, I could be a really canny liar. I could come up with good and convincing lies to present about how I feel or why.

I made a choice at the very beginning of this to not do that. To be more real than not.

Without getting into too many details, this has meant not seeing a number of clients who would happily see me again, not going after business relationships with people who misrepresent themselves, not phoning it in on pieces I make for easy money.

This is a long way of saying, I’m me. I choose to be me, in a way I fear many people choose not to be true to themselves in their day to day lives.

I want you to like my work, I want you to keep me as a fan, I want to turn you on.

Here’s a list of other things people said I must do to keep them as a fan:

- Make Male on Male audios, or else I’ll tell everyone you’re....

- Make porn where the woman Doms you, or else...

- Say you’ll do anything for money. If you don’t I’ll....

- Say you enjoy blood/scat/urine/rape, because if you don’t you’re not...

- If you don’t make me cry by abusing me, are you really a Dom?

- Take that opinion back, if you don’t, I’ll stop being a patron and I’ll...

- Say BLM or I’ll.... (On this one I relented, I still regret it, being made to even if I agreed with the sentiment).

I hope you see my point. Every day in my inbox is another person telling me what I must be to be right, while at the same time also telling me that they are only reaching out because I reach them.

I wish you nothing but happiness, but no, this is erotica for women, because I am a man who is sexually attracted to women. And that, in erotica, is exceedingly rare. It is very, very rare. Because if you haven’t noticed? Most men who do what I do, are not only worse at it, but also will say anything to anyone for a little more attention (money).

I’m a man who’s attracted to women.

I have made no mistake in it, and I am not required to pretend to be anything else.

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dragonrajafanfiction · 4 years

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Dragon Dancer Chapter 6: The Walking Dead

Deep down we all know our lives can change in an instant. We all hope it will change for the better. We hope that we’ll find that dream job. That girl we’ve been searching for will show up, smile at us, and agree that she’s was searching for us too. That some prince will come and whisk us away from our problems.

We also know that things can change for the worse. In that same instant, our lives can be taken, as if by some strange magic, and everything we’ve been working for crumbles to dust. All we can do is pick up the pieces, start over again, and be grateful we survived.

When I woke up at the hospital, I couldn’t talk about what happened. Nono, at my bedside, tried to get me to say something about it, but my mind could not form the words to describe the chaos I remembered. If I focused on the memories too much, they overwhelmed me the way the strongest emotions do. They were pure sensation, coming over me faster than my intellect's ability to register them.

There were details, focal points that my mind latched on to after the world went blurry.

The shocked look of a young man’s face when he realized he was going to die the instant before he did. The pulsating waves that were visible when blood oozed from a severed artery. The life and death struggle of a living person between my hands. Despite the clarity of these memories - or maybe because of it - their horrific nature stunned me into speechlessness.

When Nono was unable to get me to answer her questions, she said, “I think we need to get you some help.” She stood up and left me alone in the room.

I laid on my side picking at the thin threads of the soft pillow case. When the door creaked open and footsteps approached, I didn’t turn to look.

“I am Doctor Toyama.” A gentle male voice greeted me.

When he didn’t say anything more, I turned my head to see if he was still there. He had light brown eyes in a young face and a thin well manicured goatee that traced around his upper lip and chin. He wore a lab coat with a tag hanging from his pocket as an identifier. He held a notebook and pen.

That much acknowledgement of his existence was enough to make him smile. “I have a few questions for you. You don’t have to say much about this incident. The College is well aware of many details about Isaac and his… activities here. It’s unfortunate that it had to end up this way.”

He pulled up a chair and sat next to my bed. I averted my eyes from him as he continued to speak. “You’re probably blaming yourself for what happened. I’m here to tell you that it wasn’t your fault.”

He didn’t wait for me to respond. “People here all have a certain percentage of dragon DNA. The higher the percentage the stronger they are. But there is a cost.” He kept his tone soft and clear.

“If someone’s percentage of dragon DNA is too high, it begins to overwrite the human. It grows, much like a cancer and they cease to be recognizable as a human. They turn into what we call a death servitor. That is what happened to Isaac.”

“It happened to Isaac because of what I did though,” I whispered. My throat squeezed shut. My lip trembled. I could feel his eyes on me, but I couldn’t return his gaze.

“Oh? How so?”

I chewed my lip and pressed my face into the pillow.

“I’d really like to know. There are surveillance cameras in the library. As far as we can tell after watching the footage, you walked into a conference room together. The rest is hard to make out but it’s clear you disappear. You went…” He let the sentence hang.

“I wanted to see my family.” I said shakily. Tears wet the pillowcase around my eyes.

“Why? You were only here a day. You miss them already?”

I nodded.

“Hmm…” I hear his pen click. “Did you inform one of your class advisors?.”

“Yeah. He told me that… I couldn’t see my family because the rules said I had to stay on campus… I couldn’t even call them.”

“Ah… I see. You’re very close to them then?”

“Mhm…”

“You must be if you were willing to follow a stranger into the dark on the off chance you might get to see them. Tell me, what do you plan to say to them?” There was genuine curiosity in his voice.

“Everything here is secret… right?” I peeked up from the pillow.

“That’s right.” He's writing in his notebook.

“Well, I’d … tell him that there’s a lot of boys here. And they make me nervous.”

He stroked his goatee. “Ah… I see. What else?”

“Everything is really extravagant… and I don’t think I’ll fit in. And that I failed my first exam.” Now that I’m looking at him, he offered me a tissue box. I sat up to accept it.

“Very good.” He made a few more notes “I’ll submit this to the board members and see if they can make a bit of an exception for some forms of communication. It’s… rare we get people like you. Who actually come from loving non-hybrid homes.”

He clicked his pen and put it back into his breast pocket. “But since you still have so much to say to them, that means you didn’t go back to your home, did you? Where did you go?”

“I don’t know where it was. There were others too. They were dressed in Japanese clothes. So maybe Japan?” I blew my nose.

“Japan? Hm…” He made a note. “That’s … odd. Why do you think he would take you there?”

“Maybe that’s where his family lives?” I looked to him for confirmation of my guess.

“His family? I thought you were going to meet yours?” He raised his eyebrows.

I explained. “He said I shouldn’t have failed my test. He said he wanted to test me… before I went home.”

“There was no way you could have known what that meant.” He told me. “You must have … fought hard to escape.” He looked at me expecting me to fill in the blank, but I fell into an abrupt silence. My eyes were downcast. My fingers kneaded at the pillow case.

“Alright…” He said quietly. “What’s one thing you can tell me. Just one.”

My continued silence stretched on.

“Just one thing? I promise, I won’t ask any more questions.”

I didn’t reply but Doctor Toyama continued to sit and wait. My mind remembered, indexed and sorted what happened into a large pile of secrets. There was one memory that I felt comfortable revealing.

“He saved my life. I would’ve died. But when he held me, my wound healed. He brought me back before he turned into that monster.”

He watched me wipe away tears, keeping his expression neutral. “I see. Thank you.” He made another note. “I’ll leave you now. Feel free to contact me any time.” He left his card on the table next to my phone.

After he was gone, I examined the card. His title was Campus Psychologist. My phone lit up, attracting my attention. It displayed an overwhelming number of notifications. I ignored them in favor of visiting my social media page.

At the top of the feed, the official administrators had pinned a message.

This page is now restricted, only those with access may view it. If you have questions about the restriction or feel you’ve been blocked in error, keep it to yourself because you haven’t been.

Below that stretched a long string of posts by other Cassell students.

“How does one kill a servitor in a single hit?”

“Well, this new student is promising. Anyone get her number?”

“Wish she’d left some of that fight to me.”

“How can I date her please.”

“DMs are blocked :(“

“Anyone have her phone number? What about email?”

“How do you even get that strong?!”

“10/10 would watch again.”

My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. I didn’t want to talk to or meet any of these people.

In my notifications, I found a text from Nono. “Hey, hope you’re feeling better. You’ll be getting a message from the Principal soon. Don’t be nervous, just do your best. If you need me, just call me alright? Please, if you want to talk, don’t hesitate to call me. I know you miss your family, but you can’t go back to them right now. Not without talking to him.”

The phone sang its jaunty ringtone. The caller ID was just ‘EVA’. “Hello?”

Her voice was cheerful but her words were to the point. “You passed your E3 exam with a high level of resonance with a draconic cipher. This along with your unique dragon ancestry puts you at Rank S.”

“What do you mean I passed? I didn’t write anything?”

“Most record their ciphers. In your case, this was not the correct medium. Determining your ability will take further research. Therefore, we are admitting you. Welcome to Cassell College. I’m EVA, the school AI butler. Let me know if you need help or have questions."

“AI…? A computer…?” I stammered but couldn’t form a complete sentence so she continued.

“Your meeting with Principal Anjou is in half an hour. I’ve sent Mingfei Lu to guide you there. Your uniform is there in your room. Please dress and get ready to meet him. Don’t worry. He’s very nice.”

“Wait! Who is…?”

The phone beeped to tell me there was no longer anyone on the other end. I returned it to the nightstand and slid my legs over the edge of the bed to get up. I found my purple and black uniform on a hanger in the open closet across the hospital room.

When I put the uniform on, I examined myself in the room’s bathroom mirror. The open collar displayed my pendant over my collarbones. I turned my back to see if there was any sign of where that man had knifed me. There wasn’t. My heart began to pound as I remembered the spear of light impaling my attacker, how his jaw dropped open in shock. I started to wonder how much of that really happened, hoping some of it was a dream.

A knock on the hospital room door frightened me so badly I stumbled backwards into the wall. Trembling, I peeked outside the bathroom to see a gangly young man with brown doe-like eyes and a mop of messy brown hair. He gives me a cheerful wave. “You must be the newbie!”

He slowly lowered his hand when I didn’t echo his enthusiasm. “Don’t be shy! I don’t bite! I promise!” He gave a little nervous laugh. “I’m not good at this…” He mumbled.

“Good at what?” I asked him.

His eyes snapped back to mine. “Huh? What? D...did I say that outloud?” He looked at me for confirmation so I nodded. “Sorry. Um. So, You can just call me Lu. I’ve been here for a little less than a year.”

His shoulders sagged at my silence, “So…” He steeled himself, forcibly perking himself up. “My roommate happens to run the gossip column at school. He told me what happened. It was pretty incredible. Where’d you learn to do that?”

I closed the door again, wondering if he was one of the people who posted on my feed. I leaned against it, glaring at the ground. “I wouldn’t say it was ‘incredible’.”

His voice sounded from the other side. “I know it's hard but I can help you. I… I know what it’s like okay? Just bear with it. You’ll do fine!”

I took a deep breath and cracked the door open. “Sorry…” I whispered.

“You’re fine okay?” He said, peering through the small space, his voice trembling with nervous laughter. “We just need to get you to the principal’s office. You don’t have to do anything. Oh and don’t forget to grab your coat. It’s pretty windy out there.”

As we walked down the campus paths, Lu kept glancing down at me like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how to start. “So… what’s your name?”

I felt a chill run down my spine, recalling the results of using my childhood name. “I don’t like my name.”

“Oh… then… what do you prefer to be called? I feel bad just calling you, newbie.” More nervous laughter.

“Newbie is fine.” I told him. “But if there’s a name you like, just call me that.”

His nervousness turned to surprised dismay. “What? I can’t just call you whatever I want! What if someone else calls you something different?”

The corners of my mouth turned down. “You’re Mingfei Lu, right? You said, just call me Lu. Does everyone call you Lu?”

“Ah… good point.” He rubs his chin in thought. “But… What if I call you something you don’t like?”

I chuckled. “Then I’ll tell you. Like I said I didn’t mind, ‘newbie’.”

He rubbed the back of his neck but didn’t continue to object.

The administration building grew larger into view, fronted by a stone staircase. People hurried up and down, anxious to get out of the cold.

Once inside, Lu led me to the main office. We paused at the wooden door carved with the word ‘Principal’. Lu knocked before going in. Like most things at Cassell, the principal's office was larger than it needed to be. It was fancy, with black mirror tiles and a sleek glossy desk. Behind it sat Anjou who greeted me with a sympathetic grin. I couldn’t bring myself to smile back. That man fooled me into coming here and denied me access to my family. This was all his fault.

Johann and Caesar stood in front of the desk. Johann crosses his arms at my dour expression.

Caesar was bemused at my silent snarling. “It’s good to see you up and healthy. We are all grateful you made out alive.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” I mumbled, my shoulders rising to my ears.

Johann's soft voice echoed in the roomy interior. “That’s Mingfei, he’s our other S-ranked student.”

“You’re S-ranked too?” I turned to him in shock.

Mingfei Lu held up his hands in self-defense.“ Don’t look at me like that! I’m just ranked as S! I don’t actually have any abilities at all.”

Anjou stood up from behind his desk, as tall as I remembered, smoking a cigar. He paced, massaging his beard as he began. “Now that we’re all here. We can start the mission briefing.”

My eyes lifted at the word ‘mission’, glancing at the others.

“Our intelligence is reporting the signal of a dragon embryo off the coast of Japan. This signal may be what we have been dreading. Analysis indicates that it is the signal of a first generation dragon lord. So we’re sending you as a team to meet with the Cassell College Japan division.”

He took a drag of the cigar and let it out slowly. “This mission is Grade SS. We will need all of you."

My hand tentatively rose but he ignored me and continued.

“Our Japan branch is very secretive. This situation calls for the utmost discretion and sensitivity. However, I have maintained contact with Masamune Tachibana. He welcomes our assistance. Please, view this as a stepping stone for bringing our branches into closer cooperation.”

Filling with dread, I recalled Isaac’s Japanese companions and wondered if there was some connection to what I had done.

“Caesar, you’ll be the one leading on this mission.” Anjou nodded to him.

Caesar opened his mouth to speak but Johann responded. “Of course, that’s for the best.”

Caesar scowled at him. “Don’t steal my lines!” He cleared his throat. “We’ll complete the mission in no time at all, Principal Anjou! With time to do some souvenir shopping!” The blue-eyed hybrid waved a hand at me and flashed a smile, “In fact, I’d like to outfit you in the finest silk kimonos…”

“If that’s what you want to do.” I replied, reluctantly smiling back.

His eyebrows rose to his hairline. “This is your first mission as part of our team! That’s surely something to celebrate.”

“Wait… I'm going?" My smile turned to confusion. Somehow, I’d passed my E3 without writing anything. I killed my fellow students the night before. Now, he assigned me to work with top students and sent me to Japan.

While I struggled to grasp my new reality, silent seconds ticked by. Johann cleared his throat. Caesar glared at him. “You have something to say?”

Johann returned his gaze with a calm expression. “Nothing at all.”

“If you have something to say, you should say it!”. Caesar turned to fully face him.

Johann looked at me instead. “I promised you I would show you a frozen dragon specimen. But now you’ll be seeing the real thing.”

“When was this?” Caesar demanded of him. "Don't ignore me, Johann Chu!"

I looked between them both, baffled at Caesar’s sudden aggression. Lu hid his face behind his hand in embarrassment.

Anjou puffed on his cigar chuckling. “I have to interrupt.” He addressed me next. “My dear, your performance in the library tells me that you qualify for this dangerous mission.”

I frowned at his use of the word performance. “But I…” I couldn’t finish the sentence, my voice trailing off.

He turned to the others. “I’d like to have a private word with our new student.”

As they walked out, Caesar continued to menace an unflappable Johann. “Keep in mind that it was Nono and I there at her arrival here…”

Lu followed them, glancing over his shoulder at me in worry before he was forced to jog after them to catch up.

Anjou sat down and gestured to a chair for me.

“You know,” he said. “Of all the recruits, you have outstanding resilience. You come to my office after everything you’ve been through. After you hear that I’m sending you on a dangerous mission after this incident, you don’t immediately object.”

“Do I actually have a choice in any of this? You’re just throwing things at me and I’m trying to just survive here!” My voice shook. “You’re not going to let me leave, are you?”

He settled his cigar down on a silver ashtray. “Your talent is a Class S… the strongest kind. But it is extremely unstable. The injection Johann gave you is a temporary experimental measure. I’m hoping that the Japan Division might be hiding research that can aid us in preventing you from turning into a monster like Isaac.”

“What are you talking about?” My voice lowered to a whimper.

His uncharacteristic seriousness lent weight to his words. “What happened to Isaac could just as easily happen to you. I am committed to preventing that. You’re here to today because of that effort. Had you turned servitor after the injection, we would have had no choice but to eliminate you. You did not. So there is still hope.” He said this frankly, looking into my eyes. His expression turned grim. “I cannot keep you here against your will. I can only tell you the truth. Your chances of survival are slim outside of Cassell College.”

My self-protective sense of humor faltered and I found my desire to contact Robbie lessened. If this was to be my fate, then it would be better that he never saw me again. “And if there’s no cure?” I asked quietly.

“Let’s take courage and hope. We’re working on it.” His positivity returned. “You remind me so much of my friend Manecke. When I look at you…” He took another puff. “I see brilliance. Something will come up.”

My throat started to close and my eyes burned. “Can I go?”

He nodded. I stood up and rushed out of the office.

Lu was waiting for me, but I pushed by him before he could say a word.

I managed to make it back to my apartment before I gave in to the shattering grief inside. My shadow twin appeared, kneeling next to me. She tried to catch my tears but they fell through her hand to the carpet. I wished I had never accepted the offer to come to Cassell. But if I hadn’t accepted, who knew what might have happened? Had I blissfully gone through life, I might have suddenly turned into a beast. I imagined myself as a ballerina, graceful and elegant, only to morph into a horrible monster a few years into my career. Maybe even on stage. It would have been awful.

My emotions began to subside and I picked myself up off the floor. Packing for the trip wasn’t difficult. Most of my things were still in my suitcase. As I went through my belongings, I wondered what I wanted to wear on my last few days on Earth. ‘Whatever felt comfortable on a plane’ won out.

I wrote in my school notebook what I wanted people to find after I was gone. I confessed that I hadn’t just killed Isaac, but possibly six or seven other people. I was a waste of everyone’s time and effort, especially Robbie and Mom’s.

My phone buzzed. Nono was trying to talk to me but I didn’t want to anymore. It was better if she forgot I ever existed. I turned the phone off.

My heart beat fast all the rest of the day and into the night. I spent most of that night pacing around my apartment. The racing pulse made it impossible to sleep and robbed me of my appetite in the morning.

The next morning while I was turning out the lights and getting ready to meet the others to go to the airport, someone knocked on my door.

I opened to Nono, her crimson eyes narrowed. “You know, I don’t take it lightly when someone ignores my messages. Especially someone I’ve tried to be nice to.”

My shoulders lowered and I sighed. “Nono, I…”

She cut me off. “No, you need to listen to me. I know what happened was hard. Maybe even harder than most. But you have got to pull yourself together.”

“Life as a hybrid will never be fair or easy. Not one of us has had an easy and happy life. You’re one of us now. So buck up and do what needs to be done!”

I shrunk under her stare, swallowing hard.

“You’re going on a dangerous mission with Caesar and the others. And I can’t have you getting into a funk, slipping up and then someone else dies because of it.”

When I stood silently she took a step forward, her voice rising. “Do you understand? Do what you have to do to stop moping. If something happens to Caesar, I won’t forgive you.”

“Yes ma’am.” I whispered.

She turned, her heels clicking against the tile as she departed.

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#Nono #Luminous #Dragon Raja #fanfiction #writing #EVA #Anjou #Caesar Gattuso #Johann Chu

7 notes · View notes

xbaepsae · 5 years

Text

private tutor | part three (m)

“’We can take a break, if you want.’ ‘Are you sure?’ he asks, double meaning in his words and heat begins to pool in your body. ‘Yeah, I think I need time to process the information, you know?’ you say. ‘Besides, I think I’ll learn better with more of a…hands on kind of approach.’”

[tutor!namjoon x reader]

genre: college!au, smut, humor, fluff-ish

word count: 5.1k

a/n: and here it is! the final, thrilling part to this series. thank you to everyone who has been super patient with me. i love and appreciate all of you <3 xoxo

part one / part two / part three

You don’t see Namjoon again for a few days.

It’s not that you’re avoiding the guy, he did give you one of the best orgasms of your life after all, but you just haven’t had the opportunity to meet with him again. After the last study session, both of your schedules haven’t matched up. When you’re in class, he’s free. When you’re free, he’s too busy reading those damn philosophy books.

The two of you exchanged phone numbers—or rather, you coerced Yoongi into giving you Namjoon’s phone number with the promise of free Starbucks for the rest of the semester because the poor boy was out of money in his school account—but every text about possible study sessions has been in vain.

So, the little pink bullet vibrator in your bedside table has been relieving much of your end-of-semester stress instead. It also doesn’t help that you can’t stop thinking about your tutor either. You can’t get the image of when he was staring at you while giving you head out of your mind, and it’s been driving you absolutely crazy.

You told Ara about what happened in his bedroom after the game, and your roommate was shocked at how fast it all happened. “So, it’s that kind of payment.”

Were you some kind of prostitute now? You voiced this mild concern to Ara before she assured you that you weren’t a hoe now just because your tutor gave you oral in return for a study session. If anything, you should’ve given him head as payment. “I know—and I would have if not for your interfering phone call.”

“It’s not my fault you didn’t show up on time,” Ara said. “But on the real, is he really hot?”

Hot doesn’t do Kim Namjoon justice. There are no right or perfect words to describe him. You don’t know what it is about him, but everything concerning him just oozes sexuality. He knows all of the right words to make you bend to his will, as well as fiery looks that make you melt underneath his ministrations. And his mouth—that amazing, fantastic mouth—is magical. Your body becomes excited at just the thought of it.

It’s about a few days later when you get a text from him asking if you'll be free Friday afternoon. Lucky for him, the only class you have that day is chemistry, ironically enough, and you let him know this fact. Namjoon replies instantly, telling you that he’ll see you after that class.

Since meeting with Namjoon, you’ve been paying more attention in chemistry class. Things were starting to make sense—kind of, sort of—and you have an inkling feeling that you might pass. Also, in all honesty, you just really want to impress him with the new concepts you're learning. But trying to impress someone like him seems impossible.

When Friday rolls around, you cannot contain the excitement you feel. You sit in chemistry and take the most detailed notes you’ve ever taken, feeling determined to show how much you’ve improved since the first study session. Once your professor finishes her lecture, you leave class with a skip in your step and pull out your phone to send a quick text asking what time you should meet. As your typing away on your phone, not really paying attention to where you’re walking, you end up running into someone.

“Oops—I’m—” you look up, only to be met with the amused expression of your tutor. “Oh my god, Namjoon—I’m so sorry—”

Goodness, you are such a klutz. You were so focused on sending him a text, so excited to see him again, that you completely disregarded everything else. You realize that he has his arms on your shoulders, steadying you. Suddenly, embarrassment floods your body at the fact that you literally ran into him.

Shaking your head to collect yourself, you can’t help but notice that once again, Namjoon is dressed like he is some runway model—not a college student. Today, he’s wearing a plain black dress shirt tucked into lighter wash jeans. You don’t know how long you stare at him, but he coughs once, and you meet his eyes. That’s when you realize that he decided to forgo the glasses today. “You should watch where you’re going.”

“I was just about to send you a text,” you point to your phone. “I didn’t expect to run into you.”

“I actually sent you one too.”

Looking back at your phone, your message still in the text box, you scroll down and realize that Namjoon did send you a text just seconds ago.

12:49 PM | Namjoon: Hey. I’ll meet you outside your class today.

You look back at him, “Well, why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

“My one o’clock got canceled, and I got out of my noon class a little early,” he says with a shrug. “Besides, I haven’t been in the science building since freshman year.”

“Okay, mister philosophy major.”

“Are you free to study?”

Nodding, you swallow the lump in your throat as you remember what happened during the last study session. “Definitely. I even took good notes today in class.”

He smirks. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Give me credit for trying,” you pout, walking away from him. Namjoon catches up to you in no time, arms slightly brushing against yours as he walks beside you down the hall. You become overly aware of how fast your heart starts beating and mentally curse yourself for reacting like a total noob.

“Isn’t that something you should’ve been doing all semester?”

You give him a look, but he merely laughs as you both walk out into the sun. You lead Namjoon to your dorm, walking past stares from the student body. As the two of you walk, you make small talk with him—clearly more interaction than what you guys did last time. He talks to you about his philosophy classes, which you don’t really get, but you appreciate his passion for it. “Honestly, I don’t really like philosophy.”

“Not many people do,” he says. “But I think people like Plato and Socrates were fascinating.”

“Is philosophy on the list of graduation requirements?”

Namjoon looks down at you. “I believe at least one class is.”

You groan at the thought of sitting through an entire semester of lectures about the mind and theories. “Great.”

“I could always tutor you, again,” he says, eyes still on you.

Your body hums at the thought of spending more time with Namjoon. Immediately, you want to jump and say that you want nothing more than to continue future tutoring sessions; but you decide to tease him a little. “Hmm…we’ll see. If I pass chemistry, then maybe. Like, I don’t want to waste my time if my grade doesn’t change you know?”

“Is this a challenge?” he asks with a smirk. “I already told you that I’m confident you’ll get at least a C. Why? Doubting my skills? Did I not make you cum hard enough last time?”

He says the last bit so quietly you almost don’t catch it. The two of you are still in public, which means anyone can hear the conversation you both are having, so you’re shocked that he’s being quite bold right now. Even though you don’t want to, you redden at the mention of last time because he’s right—he did make you cum really hard—so you definitely are not doubting the sexual prowess that is Kim Namjoon.

Before you can answer him, you’ve already reached your building. Rummaging through your backpack for your ID card, you swipe the metal lock on the door and open it up. You walk inside first and tell Namjoon that your room is on the second floor.

“Also, there’s no elevator in this building,” you sigh. “At least, no working elevator—the one we did have has been broken since labor day weekend.”

“Oh?” he laughs a little, following you up the stairs.

“Yeah, I think there were too many people on the elevator at one time, so it got stuck and maintenance hasn’t bothered to fix it. But at least I only have to climb one flight of stairs—I feel bad for the people on the floors above me. I don’t even want to think about the chaos that will be having to pack for winter break.”

Making it to your room, the first door on the left, you notice that Namjoon is awfully close to you and it sends little jolts of electricity up your spine.

“Cute,” he suddenly says, and you turn to ask him what. “The decorative names are a nice touch.”

You smile, looking at yours and Ara’s name that are creatively pieced on the door of the room. “Thanks—it was actually Ara’s idea though. She’s very into this kind of stuff. You know, doing the whole college experience.”

Slipping your key into the lock, you open the room and sigh in relief when you remember that you cleaned the night before. Ara was shocked that you were cleaning, not that you’re extremely messy or anything but you do have a tendency to leave empty water bottles around the room. However, when you mentioned that Namjoon was coming over to help you study, Ara would not stop shut up about it.

“Make sure to use protection, okay?” she said to you and you almost tackled her on the spot. “Also, make sure he discards the condom—I don’t want that shit to get on the carpet. I’ve heard that it’s hard to take cum off the carpet.”

Thankfully, Ara has a packed schedule on Friday afternoons, so she will not be here to disturb your study session. You invite Namjoon to walk inside first as you lock the door.

“Well,” you start, “welcome to my humble abode.”

“Your room is bigger than I thought it would be,” he comments.

“Why? Did you think it was going to be the size of a closet?” you snort. “This room accommodates two people, so it has to be decently sized.”

When you and Ara first moved in, you two tried to set up the room as practical as possible. You both decided to forgo the whole bunk bed situation because neither of you wanted to fight for the bottom bunk, so your beds sit parallel to each other with both bedside tables in-between. At the foot of your beds are desks, and by the door stands a sink and your closets.

You put your bag down on your bed and pull Ara’s desk chair from her side of the room. Setting it next to your chair, you sit down and beckon Namjoon to follow. You pull out your notes and textbook, handing them over to your tutor to look over.

“Are those the notes you took earlier?”

You nod once. “Yeah.”

Namjoon examines your notes, flipping back and forth over the pages you wrote today. “Did you understand everything the professor said?”

“Surprisingly, I did,” you say. “I’ve been able to soak up more information this past week than I have almost all semester.”

“That’s good,” he says with a nod and opens your textbook up. “Did you want to start from what you learned today, or where we left off last time?”

You tell him that you want the latter and Namjoon picks up seamlessly. With pen and paper in hand, you jot down everything that he says and ask questions when you don’t understand what he’s explaining. When he gets to the chapter about stoichiometry, you admit that you never understood what the heck this was. You even make Namjoon balance a simple hydrogen and oxygen equation five times because you really don’t get it. But, to your relief, you learn that Namjoon is surprisingly patient with you.

“Can you explain that again?” you ask with a sheepish smile, watching Namjoon write the current example you two are working on again.

“Okay, so the problem asks how many grams of nitrogen are needed to produce the 38.5 g of NH2 produced in the equation: 1 N2(g) + 3 H2(g) = 2 NH2(g)?”

You watch as he writes down the goal mass and then solves the problem using mass-mass stoichiometry. Through each step, he explains slowly what he is doing and why he is doing what he is doing. By the time he comes out with the answer, you feel a little lightbulb flicker in your head. He then asks if you feel comfortable solving the problem yourself, which you honestly don’t but what’s new, and you reply with an I guess so.

Without letting you see his work, Namjoon helps you start solving the problem before forcing you to do it all by yourself. After a few painstaking minutes, you show your answer and the smile he has lets you know that you’re not a complete failure. “So, I got it correct?”

“Yeah—just make sure you put the unit of measurement in your answer, as well as the atomic letters of the chemical,” he says, and you immediately add them to your answer.

“Thank you for being so patient,” you tell him. “I’m sorry that I’m so fucking slow.”

He only shakes his head, “I’ve tutored worse—trust me.”

Namjoon continues through different lessons and before you both realize it, nearly all of the afternoon has passed by and you’re starting to get hungry. Not hungry-hungry, but hungry enough that you know your stomach will probably start making noise. You will your stomach to not growl, but your body betrays you and the sounds coming from your stomach fill the room. Almost instantly, you wrap your arms around your abdomen and you feel your face flush. “Sorry.”

Glancing down at the watch on his wrist, Namjoon checks the time. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how long we’ve been studying. I also didn’t even think about whether or not you’ve even had lunch.”

“I’m okay,” you brush him away, knowing you can hold out until dinner. “Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, but not for food.”

Your lips part in silent surprise. Oh. Slowly, your eyes meet his and you see that same dark look; this sends your body into a frenzy. Without even touching you, Namjoon has you under his spell and you honestly never want to be released from it. “We can take a break, if you want.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, double meaning in his words and heat begins to pool in your body.

“Yeah, I think I need time to process the information, you know?” you say. “Besides, I think I’ll learn better with more of a…hands on kind of approach.”

Humor laces Namjoon’s dark eyes and you swear that you’ve never seen anything sexier. “The next part of your payment?”

You’re so ready for this—anything and everything. You’ve been ready for a while now. “Of course.”

“Okay,” his voice is gentle. Namjoon brings a hand to cup your face, thumb running over your jawline before settling on your lips. He parts your mouth and you begin to suck on his finger. “Get down on your knees for me, baby girl.”

Your arousal skyrockets as you stand up and push your chair back. Falling to your knees, Namjoon’s hand never leaves your face. Looking up at him, you feel his hand moving to tangle in your hair. Suddenly, he pulls you in for a kiss, his tongue dancing with your own. You’re already getting drunk of a kiss, so imagining what's to come has your core aching.

As his lips move against your own, your fingers slide up his thighs and you can feel his muscle flexing underneath. He feels so strong underneath your hands and you can’t wait to see if he crumbles beneath you. Fingers find the belt holding his jeans together, and you begin to loosen the buckle. After, you begin to unbutton his jeans. Namjoon’s lips release yours when you lower his zipper. Shoving his jeans and boxers down in one smooth motion, your eyes take in his already half-hard member.

Namjoon surprises you when he brings a hand to his cock, holding it erect. “Suck my cock, baby girl.”

Your hand goes to replace his when he stops you. “What?”

“No hands,” he says, voice deep with lust, “put them behind you.”

A jolt of electricity goes up your spine and you almost let out a moan. Oh my god. You do as he says, fingers lacing together behind your back, and lower your head towards his groin. The first thing you do is extend your tongue out to lick the tip. A small smile stretches across your lips when Namjoon visibly shudders.

Then, your mouth envelops the entire head—sucking gently and tongue swirling around it. As you suck, you take more of him into your mouth. You have never been one to particularly enjoy giving head; you’ll do it without question, but it usually doesn’t do anything for you. However, you’re enjoying yourself; you want to please Namjoon and make him feel good.

Through your focused attention to his member, you can make out the few choked praises and curses that leave Namjoon’s lips. You moan appreciatively as you take him deeper into your throat. You release him for a moment to catch your breath before giving some attention to his shaft and balls. By this point, his cock as grown increasingly hard and you wonder for a brief moment if he’s going to fit inside of you.

Size has never been an issue for you; then again, you’re pretty sure he’s got the biggest package you’ve seen in real life.

“Fuck, y/n,” Namjoon moans, beginning to thrust his hips once you’ve taken all of him back into your mouth. You can feel your eyes begin to sting from the force of his cock hitting the back of your throat, and your gag reflex kicks in.

Even though you’re beginning to choke, he doesn’t stop slamming his cock down your throat. In fact, he tightens the grip on your hair and speeds up his thrusting. After a few hard thrusts, he releases you. Gasping for air, you can feel saliva dribble down your chin.

Wiping your face, you glance up at Namjoon. “Was that…?”

“Wow,” he breathes, “your mouth is fucking amazing.”

Pride beams inside of you and Namjoon takes this opportunity to crash his lips onto yours. He lifts you off the floor and helps you take your clothes off. As you strip, you also help him shed whatever clothes he is wearing as well. After the two of you are completely naked, you take in Namjoon’s bare body and just groan. How could one man be so damn perfect?

“Like what you see?”

You roll your eyes playfully, “No.”

He kisses you again and you become putty in his hands. Namjoon’s lips leave yours for a moment before reaching back down towards his jeans. Pulling out his wallet, you watch as he takes out a little foil packet. He tears the edge and rolls the condom onto his cock before sitting back down. “Sit on my cock.”

Usually, you’d bite back if someone ordered you around; but with Namjoon, you’ll do anything he says. But before you can straddle his lap, he brings his hand up to cup your mound. “Namjoon—”

He begins to rub your clit and you fall over, bracing yourself onto his shoulders. You moan into his neck as he slips a finger inside of you. And then another. With nails digging into his back, you grind your hips into his thrusting. Just as you’ve started building up momentum, he pulls his fingers out.

You curse, which only causes him to laugh. Unable to help yourself, you kiss him again—you really like kissing him, you realize. Wasting no more time, you hover over his lap and position yourself over him. Slowly, you sink lower. Just as your about to slip him inside of you, Namjoon stops you for a minute. Looking into his eyes, you find yourself getting lost in them. He kisses you again and begins to rub his head along your clit and down toward your slit.

“You’re so wet for me,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss against your jaw.

“Namjoon,” you choke on a cry. “I—”

“Do you want my cock inside of you?” he asks, continuing to tease you.

Your hands tighten around his neck, “Yes.”

“What was that?”

“Yes,” you repeat, another moan releasing from your lips.

His tip swirls around your clit again. “What?”

“Oh my god, Namjoon. Yes! Put your cock inside of me—oh.”

Your head tilts back and eyes roll as you feel him push inside of you. Unadulterated moans leave your lips as he slowly stretches you. Quickly, you realize that you were right—he is big, and you feel so full you can hardly handle it. You sink lower until you’re buried to the hilt, and it feels so good you might just explode. “I just…I just need a minute.”

Breathing into the crook of Namjoon’s neck, you allow your body to get adjusted before you begin to move your hips. As you ride him, you can feel your high approaching quickly and it doesn’t help that Namjoon has decided to tease you by pinching your nipples and sucking the sensitive skin of your neck.

“You feel so good on my cock, baby girl,” he practically coos into your ears and your hips slam faster; harder. “Fuck yourself onto me—just like that.”

Who knew you’d be such a praise kink hoe? You’re living for the sweet nothings coming from his lips.

He continues to pinch and pull at your nipples and just when you think you can’t take anymore, you feel his fingers right at your clit and that’s all it takes to push you over the edge. You scream his name, entire body convulsing in orgasm. Throughout this, Namjoon fucks himself into you still—helping you ride the high out.

“Oh my god,” you say once you catch your breath. “That was—”

“Who said we were done?” His voice causes you to raise your eyes towards him. “We’ve only just begun.”

Your mouth parts, core tightening with desire as he lifts you up and over to your bed. Still inside you, he lays your body down and begins peppering kisses all over your skin. Suddenly, you feel him pull out; you’re about to protest until you feel his hot breath caressing your thighs. Pushing your legs apart, he presses more kisses along the inside before his mouth begins to suck on your lips.

“Namjoon,” you moan his name, legs shaking at his ministrations.

There’s just something so erotic about him eating you out post-penetration—the thought sends your head spinning. Without much, you feel your insides tightening again; you’re going to cum again and your body is so ready for the toe-curling sensation. But it stops when Namjoon releases his hold on you. “You think you deserve to cum again?”

You lift yourself up on your forearms, breathing heavily as you stare at the man before you. Is he being serious right now? “What?”

“I don’t know if you’ve earned another orgasm yet,” he says, a smirk growing along his lips. “I mean, I haven’t cum yet…so why do you deserve more than one?”

“I…I…” you struggle to speak. Hell, you can’t even think right now.

But Namjoon doesn’t stop tormenting you. You watch as his hand returns to your cunt, fingers moving slowly along your wetness. A moan leaves your lips, and it only seems to make his smirk wider. “Tell me why, y/n?”

Your head falls back a bit when you feel that tightness building again. As his fingers continue to move, your hips match their rhythm. “I’m so…close.”

“Oh yeah?”

You nod feverishly. “Oh god…yeah.”

“You want to cum again?” he asks.

As Namjoon’s fingers move along your slit, rubbing delicious circles around your swollen clit, your hips move feverishly to match his pace. Clutching the bedsheets in-between your hands, you cry as your high comes. But as your body shakes, you feel him enter you again.

He fucks you hard—cock buried deep inside of you—and it feels so fucking good you swear you might actually pass out. Namjoon thrusts relentlessly, and another wave of pleasure crash over you as he hits your g-spot repeatedly. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you feel completely spent. How many times have you come undone today?

You’re pretty sure that you can’t manage another orgasm, you’re already feeling sensitivity-overload; so instead, you wrap your legs around his waist and dig your heels into his back. “I want you to cum.”

“Yeah?” he asks, hair in a sweaty mess on top of you. God, he looks so good.

You nod. “Yeah…where do you want to cum? I’ll let you choose.”

Namjoon grunts at your words, hips picking up their pace. “Can I cum on your tits?”

Your body shakes at his request, and all you can do is nod. He continues to thrust a few more times, hips moving a little sloppier each with each thrust, before he pulls out and removes his condom. Strings of milky white hit your chest as he mutters fuck over and over again, painting your breast; however, the real sight to behold is Namjoon and the way his eyes are shut in pure ecstasy.

Sitting up, you pull him closer and mold your lips against his. As you both kiss in post-coital bliss, you realize that you can get used to this.

***

a few weeks later...

Namjoon paces up and down the empty hallway.

His loafers echo in the closed space, while outside there is a totally different picture. Mother nature has decided to be lovely as usual and snow—the first of the season. Although the snow is nice and all, he can’t but feel nervous as his eyes continuously return to the same wooden door; the door that leads to you. Well, to your chemistry class specifically. You’re in there taking your chemistry final right now, and it’s nearing the end of the three-hour exam session.

Shouldn’t you be done already? For the last hour, Namjoon has watched as other students have filed out of the room with their exams in hand. As each individual walked out, he searched for your face in vain. And as the minutes continue to tick by, Namjoon grows more worried.

He doesn’t doubt your preparedness—you two have done more than enough studying. Namjoon licks his lower lip at the memory of every study session you’ve both had, since they’ve all ended with the both of you in each other’s beds. Although the sex has gotten better and better every time, that isn't the only good thing that's happened. In the last few weeks, he has actually taught you a lot about chemistry too.

“What if I forget everything?” you asked yesterday, the both of you tucked in his bed.

Namjoon laughed, “You won’t forget.”

“I can’t even remember what mass is, and that is supposed to be the basic of all basic information.”

“It’s property of a physical body and a measure of its resistance to acceleration when a net force is applied, y/n.”

When he first met you, he said something about guaranteeing that you’d make a C on the final, but he was quite positive that you’d actually do better than that. You were able to soak up a semester’s worth of chemistry in a few weeks; if that isn’t impressive, Namjoon doesn’t know what is. And this is coming from someone who aces all of their finals.

From what he can remember about the chemistry final is that it’s about one hundred questions, and it's all multiple choice. There are different versions of the final, but all of the questions are the same—just in a different order to prevent cheating. And since the test is multiple choice, students get their scores immediately after. You both practiced more than enough old final questions, and you did well on all of them, so he was confident in your skills.

Now, he doesn't know what to think.

Just as Namjoon is about to worry himself sick, the door creaks open and you walk out. Immediately, you make eye contact with him and offer a small smile. He quickly scans your face and assumes the worst. “Oh god, did you not pass?”

“Sorry I took so long,” you avoid his question as you walk closer to him, “those one hundred questions took everything out of me.”

“Y/n, what did you get on the final?” Namjoon takes your face in his hands, searching your eyes for an answer. “Baby, I swear I really thought I prepared you well. I’m so s—”

Suddenly, you laugh. You laugh so hard your entire body shakes. Namjoon looks at you like you’ve grown another head. He asks you what’s wrong, but you can’t even answer. “You’re so funny, Joon.”

“Why are you laughing?”

You smile. “I’m laughing because you’re getting so worked up over nothing.”

“Nothing?” he asks, incredulously. “I’m worried that you didn’t pass. That’s not nothing.”

“You don’t have to worry.”

Namjoon frowns for a moment and you unfold your exam and reveal the front page to him. He blinks a few times to make sure the red letter is actually there. Slowly, a smile builds on his face and he lifts you off the ground. You laugh into his shoulder as he spins you around in circles.

As your feet meet the ground again, the smile can’t be wiped off your face. “I can’t believe I actually got a one hundred!”

“Did the professor think you cheated or something?” Namjoon jokes and you almost punch his shoulder.

“No, I just explained that you tutored me. That was all she needed to know.”

“I guess we both win, huh?”

“Win?” you ask, confused as to what he’s talking about.

Namjoon nods. “Yeah—you got the grade, and got my payments.”

You mock laugh, “Ha. Ha. I think you've gotten one too many payments from me, don’t you think?”

He takes that chance to pull your body close, so that you have to tilt your head up to meet his eyes. Namjoon looks down at you with a smirk, enjoying the way you squirm in his hold. Over the last few weeks, you’ve gotten a lot more confident in his presence and he loved it. However, he still enjoys messing with your anyway. “I think you enjoyed giving me all those payments.”

“Who said?”

“Your body,” he smiles.

“My body tends to betray my mind,” you say, fighting your own smile.

Namjoon’s hands move from your waist to cup your ass. Your eyebrows raise at his action, but you don’t object and that’s all the confirmation he needs to lean down for a kiss.

#armiesnet #networkbangtan #bangtan bookclub #bts smut #namjoon smut #bts fic #namjoon fic #rm fic #bts humor #smut #humor #fluff #rm #namjoon #private tutor #xbaepsae

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simplechicwithacrazedheart · 6 years

Text

Into the Great Unknown (Tom Holland x Spanish Reader

A/N: This may become a series, depending on the reactions! This was inspired by his Instagram story in which he found a dog with Harrison and took him to the vet. It has been so long since I’ve written anything so excuse the bad writing. I think the bit with Tom at the end makes the whole thing worth it, but I am biased. Let me know if you want more of these! Also, I wrote this in one-go, no proof reading. So sorry for any mistakes.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Words: 2,606

[y/n] = your name

[y/s/c] = your skin color

“Babosa” = A Spanish word for dumbass/idiot (female)

*********************************

Thrill. That’s what rushed through her veins when the gate was left open. Her heart no longer pumped the blood that coursed through her, no, no, no. What pumped her blood was the sense of wild adventure that accompanied the Great Unknown. This is pushed her to bolt past the slightly ajar gate when no one was insight. The future was her to take hold and by damn, she was going to take hold of it. She was going to decide her path. She was going to run loose and take it all in.

All by herself.

The sun lowered into the sky, cars passed by. No one batted a single eye as she roamed around trying to take it all in. At least she hadn’t noticed anyone staring. The street lights flicked on chasing away the natural light of the sun. There she was.

Alone in the dark.

Hungry. In the sudden burst of adrenaline that had overtaken her, she had ignored the breakfast that had been prepared for her.

Lost. In trying to take everything in, she had gotten turned around. Everything and nothing looked familiar. The people who walked past her only seemed to hastily walk away from her. Unable to understand her cries for help. Unable to understand that all she wanted was to go home. In the end, she found it logical to lay under a tree and sleep for the night. For not much else could be done.

She awoke with the sun and began her search for the journey home once more.

The attempt was moot and she couldn’t remember the last time she had gone this long without food and the restless night of sleep plagued her mind. She missed her overprotective mother, who smothered her senseless. But, those smothering had made her feel loved. Cared for. It made her forget about how she had been abandoned, left in a box in an alleyway when she was young. These last few hours only brought up those memories. Her heart twisting, whimpers echoing within her throat yet never slipping past her lips. Why had she run out? She had the perfect life. A mother who spoiled her, who brought her ice cream, who let her sleep in her bed, who taught her English and Spanish, who taught her how to love again. Why had she been foolish enough to go out without her, especially when they had only recently moved into a new area?

It was in the series of depressing thought of resentment towards oneself did someone, or some people, approached her.

“Are you lost love?”

***

[y/n] walked down the sidewalk, hands deep in the coat pocket fiddling with the new set of keys and a brand new tag with a grocery bag dangling on her forearm as she hummed to herself, lost in her thoughts. Never had she planned to move out of the neighborhood she was raised in, must less to this section of Kingston. Not that it was a bad area, in fact it was quite beautiful to her, but that was besides the point. The point had been was that she was in a new area now and had a new number. This was a new life and the moment she got to her new home she would update her p-

Few things could interrupted [y/n]’s thought process. Seeing her gate pushed open did not only that but stopped her heart. Feet pounded the ground as she ran past the gate. Maybe the Babosa was inside the house by some miracle or in the backyard asleep under the tree. The backyard was as empty as [y/n]’s lungs. The air escaping her lungs, her lungs themselves burning, pulsing even. Her heart jackhammering against her chest. Keys jammed into the front lock, opening it yanking the door open, the grocery bag dropping to the floor. “Laika?? Babosa! Come here!” Silence. Not even the sound of trotting. Stepping in the house, disbelief coursing through her veins. “Laika! This isn’t funny!” Voice thick, eyes blurring. “Laika!”

[y/s/c] hands grabbed the keys that had been dropped into the bowl on the table stand by the door and ran out the house, barely managing to lock the door behind her.

***

“LAIKA!” [y/n]’s voice was raw, hoarse. It hurt to speak, to breathe, to run. She had been outside for about twelve hours, running around calling out her precious dog’s name. “Laika! Please! Vega pa ca!” (Come here!) She cried. She stopped everyone who even glanced at her. Showing photos of her lost german shepard mix lab until her phone had died. When it did, she would describe Laika down to the little scar along her left paw from when she was abandoned as a puppy.

No luck. That night [y/n] slept on her porch hoping that her dog would find her way back home by some miracle. That perhaps that God would answer her prayers. That all those times when her family would drag her to church Sunday morning would mean that she was in his good grace. That he would grant her this one miracle. She prayed in Spanish, English, and Spanish once more before sleep claimed her.

In the morning, she grabbed her phone from the charger and went out searching once more. She resumed her shouting, using her determination to find the only thing that made her home feel like home, pushing down the tears, pushing down the cold gripping fear that she had been runned over. That she had been stolen. While running around, [y/n] called every pound, every shelter. Her phone dinged and [y/n] unlocked it at the speed of light. Praying that the instagram notification was about her dog. It had not been. [y/f] had just send her a comment saying to check out Tom Holland’s instagram story. How it would “make her day better”. [y/n] wanted to punch her friend in the face so much at that moment. Seeing some actor, no matter how much she adored his personality, smile, and kind eyes, would not improve her day. Yet, she still tapped over the small circle at the top of her instagram feed.

“Bit of an odd message, walking around Kingston and we found this dog….so if this is your dog, please let us know we’re gonna take her to the vet to make sure she’s all ok.”

You had missed some part of what Tom Holland had said due to him revealing the dog.

Laika.

Laika was alive. And wagging her pinche cola (fucking tail). Tears ran down your cheeks as relief replaced the cold gripping fear that you had lost your piece of home forever. It was only after the story ended that you realized that you had no clue which vet he was referring too.

It was a long shot but you had to try. Your finger tapped the “send message” button and you tapped as if your life depended on it, having to correct misspellings due to trembling hands.

I know you have no reason to believe me. But the dog you found is my dog. I just moved to the area so neither of us knows it too well. Please can you tell me which vet you went to? The microchip information is incorrect. She has a scar on the underside of her left paw, about 1/4th centimeters thick and 4 centimeters long. She responds to the name Laika and Babosa, Ba- bow-sa. She responds to both English and Spanish commands. Well, her best trick is the give me paw one. You can have your hands behind your back and say the command and she still understands. You can leave first and then tell me. I don’t give a flying fuck right now. I just want my dog back, I have been looking for her for the past day and a half please. Solo quiero la única cosa que haci me casa sentí como casa de nuevo.

Not having noticed that you had finished the rambling in Spanish, nor that you had rambled you hit send and began calling every vet nearby according to google asking about a german shepard mix lab that had been brought in. Cursing at them, crying on the phone, when they refused to say or if they had not been brought a dog.

Her phone dinged once more and like before she whipped it out at an incredible speed.

Ello. I can’t believe posting a story like that actually worked if I’m quite honest. All of the details you gave proved that she’s indeed your dog. We’ve taken her to Goddard Vet in Kingston.-

There was more to the message but you opened up the UBER app the moment you found out the vet and called one over to the vet. The drive there felt as if it was an eternity, her heart never ceased pounding despite knowing Laika was alright. She wouldn’t believe it until Laika was back in her arms again.

Bolting out the uber with a quick, “Gracias!” [y/n] ran inside of the vet clinic, running to the counter, panting. Unable to breathe or catch her breath. She opened her wallet and gave the man working the front desk her ID. “Shepard Lab mix. Es mio. Is mine.” She correct herself. “Old information. New number. Was going to update it pero ella se (but she had) disappeared. Por favor.” She begged the man. “Quiero mi perra. (I want my dog) Owner nombre es igual entonces no problema right??” Her English was failing her. What if she came this far only to have her dog denied to her because they didn’t believe her. “Ella tiene,” she pauses at the confused look on the mans face. “She has a escar,” her Spanish accent becoming thicker when speaking English, “on paw left. Very small. Please.” Tears swam in her eyes and the man told her to take a seat.

Despite the dull ache in her legs and feet, she couldn’t sit. She couldn’t relax. She paced the waiting area, her heart pounded, lungs burning, doubt clouding her mind and she could swear that she felt people staring at her. But that was expected, she was pacing around like a mad man.

Hearing nails tap along the tile floor, [y/n]’s head whipped upwards. “Laika!” She managed to shout.

The dog ripped herself free from the vet’s grip on her new leash and bolted to her owner, to her overprotective mama. Laika pounced on [y/n] sending her to the ground and [y/n] didn’t mind one bit. Her grip tightened around her dog, tears rolling down her cheeks and onto the dog’s fur. Laika lick vigorously at the woman’s cheeks and face, tail wagging.

“Porque te fuiste?! Babosa de mierda! Me asustaste tanto. No tienes idea como me preocupa por te. Podría matarte ahora mismo por eso. Nunca vuelvas a hacer eso de nuevo! Me entiendes?!” (Why did you leave? Stupid shit! You scared me so much. You have no idea how much I worried for you. I could kill you right now. Never do that again! You understand?!) [y/n] mumbled into her dog’s neck, stroking the fur along her spine. After a few minutes, [y/n] pulled herself together and stood, not bothering to wipe away the dog fur on her clothing, grabbing Laika’s leash with white knuckles. Looking up she found herself looking into probably the kindest dark eyes she’s ever seen. Cue nerves.

“I’m glad you have found your dog.” A smile graced his lips, making his already thin lips thinner. She blinked for a moment, stunned that he was standing before her. She was at a lost for words. She parted her lips, realized she was going to speak Spanish and corrected herself.

“Thank you. Thank you very much. I owe you everything. She means the world to me. You didn’t have to help her and you did. You even got her checked up on. I can’t thank you enough Mr. Holland. I really can’t.”

“Tom.”

“Pardon?” “You can call me Tom, darlin’.”

A smile passes over her lips, “Thank you Tom.” With her free hand she pulled out her wallet and gave him all the cash she had on her. “This is to pay you back for everything you’ve spend money on. If this isn’t enough, I can write you a check.” Her hand extended towards him, urging him to take the money. Instead of him taking the money, his wrapped his fingers around her hand, closing it into a fist.

“I can’t take that. It was my pleasure really.”

“As much as I appreciate that. I can no...cannot accept that. There has to be something I can do. I can teach you Spanish? That way you can defend yourself in Spanish. Know more than tu puta madre.” Her eyes widen and she promptly wanted to kick herself in the mouth. Tom, on the other hand, laughed rubbing the back of his neck. Laika seemed to sense something for she nudged his hand with her hand and he began to pet her without skipping a beat.

“I know a bit more. That’s just my favorite word.”

“Words. It’s a phrase.”

“Is it?” “Si, and it’s a very dirty one. Like fighting insulting one. Not a sexy one.”

“Well, I’d love for you to teach me some Espanol. But I reckon I’d need your numbero for that. So you can add it to my phono?”

“Telephono.” She corrected him, smiling. Her nervous slowly disappearing the longer they spoke. She typed her name into his phone along with her number. “[y/n].” She says. “Mi nombre es [y/n] y es mucho gusto a concer te. Nunca crea que yo te iba a conocer, pero paso. Y me encantra a pasar tiempo con usted.” (My name is [y/n] and it is a pleasure to meet you. I never thought that I would meet you, but it happened. And I would love to spend time with you.)

“Well, looks like I’ll need a lesson soon. I understood just about nothing, save for your name. Which is absolutely beautiful. How about a lesson this weekend?”

“Es una cita.” (It’s a date.)

“Cita?” “It’s a deal.” She smiles to herself, grateful that she could cover up that little slip up due to his lack of knowledge.

“I’ll be seeing you around. Behave yourself and be good to your mum.” Tom instructs Laika and he gives her one last scratch behind the ears. “I’ll be seeing you this weekend.” He smiles at [y/n], lifting his hand as he walks away. She waves the fistful of her cash and watches him leave. Putting the money away you hear your phone go off, this time a text tone.

I’m free this saturday around 7pm. Does that sound like a sita to you?

A laugh falls past her lips and she looks at Laika. “He actually thinks cita means deal. I really saved my ass there”

*Cita. And that Works for me. We’ll figure out what you know. Food will be provided. It’s the Spanish way.

***

“You’re grinning like an idiot mate. You got her number?” Harrison questions as Tom buckles in his seatbelt and types away on his phone. The smile only grew at her response.

“Did one better and got a cita with her.”

“Cita?” Harrison questions, eyebrow arched with confusion. Tom feels a smirk pass over his lips and didn’t bother to hide it. “A date. That’s what cita means. You gotta keep up mate.”

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland spanish #tom holland x spanish reader #tom holland x hispanic

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buffylikescoke · 7 years

Text

Buffy the Vampire Slayer 11#8

You're my dog, Y'know? ~ Faith Lehane

Ordinary People is an entertaining issue. There are some things I don't like about it but hey, it's fun, so, like, whatever, go read it!

Buffy and Willow are back in San Francisco, free but under constant surveillance - phones wiretapped, drones floating outside their apartment, drones hovering over the city watching them, drones seemingly following them everywhere they go. Basically, the logical next step of the modern surveillance state. Mentally, Buffy's deflated, as Dawn describes it, but there is a plan. At the moment, though, Scoobies need to stay put. Not that Buffy manages to. A few days after her release, while jogging ( Sweet! I adore jogging Buffy, OK? Lovely workout clothes too! ) Buffy witnesses some asshole harassing a Wiccan. Buffy steps in, confronts the aggressor and beats the crap out of him. Then, after it's over, Buffy melts down. Visually, the scene is amazing! It's brutal and kinetic and art team, you are so killing it but I don't understand Buffy's reaction, I don't understand why she's so affected by violence and it's not just me, wife of Riley actually asks her about it as well. Buffy says that it was about realizing that she could've killed that guy. And that he could've killed her. Sam counters with the obvious question - how is that different from any time you fight a monster, or some whacked-out cultist? Yes, tell me Buffy! It just is. I don't have to justify my feelings to you. Oh, are you serious? Get the fuck out! Look, I don't get it. Buffy has been killing daily for the last whatever years, she's been in countless life or death situations, she even died too! What's going on here? What, it's 'cause it's a human? Buffy killed humans before, she's been killing humans since she was a teenager, she Ichi the killed a human in half and found it hilarious. I mean, OK, it was hilarious and...and Ted! What about Ted? Sorry, I’m not feeling it. If you want a constructive take, here’s what I’d do. I sorta feel more when I don't have my powers, it happened in Tibet too. Boom! All the shock value you want and it still makes sense. Finally, I'm not sure what was even the point of that scene. That, even without her powers Buffy can still kick ass? Yeah, no shit. That even without her powers Buffy's still heroic? Duh.

But what about Willow? There's something interesting Xander says about her and can I just say how much I missed Xander? I haven't seen Willow like this since high-school, he says, making everything she says a question, spending all her time on the computer.... And true, Willow seems less confident in this issue, even her clothes reflect that but I'm not sure if the idea of explicitly tying Willow's confidence to her magic works for me. Willow had no magic in season nine and it didn't turn her into high-school Willow, I mean, she bitch-slapped Angel, right? And I understand that, in theory, it’s not the same thing, outside versus inside power but the effect, as in no magic, is basically identical. Moreover, Willow started becoming more confident before she discovered magic. She casts her first spell in Passion and that's after Halloween and Oz and whatnot. Of course, I don't know when exactly Willow started practicing magic ( high-school series, you're on it, right? ) so maybe it all checks out? Or maybe it's just like Xander said, after what they've been through, they deserve some space. Willow's romantic non-situation ties into this too. She bumps into Calliope and her girlfriend, happily on their way to watch a movie. Willow was right in the previous issue, it really is two different worlds and on the outside Calli's clearly not interested anymore. Now, I can't complain, Calliope is boring but man, aside from some character development, this non-romance seems kind of like a waste of page space. You know, another one. Oh, well, this is Willow, she'll be suffering from respiratory issues soon enough if you know what I mean.

A few days after Buffy’s fight Riley and Sam visit Scoobies' apartment and no, not to arrest Buffy because she beat up that asshole. They're in on Buffy’s plan! This is why, I reckon, Riley was so eager to convince Buffy to take the deal and leave the safe zone, I suspect that Lake is also a part of this. However, Buffy and Willow are suddenly not sure, hesitant to take action. Seeing that, Sam suggests that without their powers, Buffy and Willow are nothing. Of course, Ms Finn doesn't really mean it, it's a gym teacher mind game as Buffy puts it but it works. I mean, OK, it's clunky but you know what? Buffy’s and Willow’s dialog makes it worth it! Don't blame Willow for my problems, Buffy starts. She's never needed magic to be amazing! She's smart, and kind. She sees the big picture, but never loses sight of how it affects everyone. And draining her magic didn't affect her computer skills, which she's been putting to pretty damn good use lately. Wow! Haters are finished, done etc. I'm the one who's useless now, continues Buffy. Jesus, Buff, can you stop with this nonsense already?! Like, she beat up a guy twice her size just to protect a nameless innocent and she thinks she’s useless? Buffy, you beautiful dingus, just, just love yourself already, OK? Thankfully, Willow is quick to destroy her bullshit. Except that's a load of crap, she points out. Your powers aren't why you never give up. Why you refuse to leave anyone behind. Why you never accept anything less than what you know is right. Why have you done things no other slayer in history ever did, even though they had the exact same abilities? That's you, Buffy. That's who you are. Now kiss. No, I mean, this is almost like that Touched speech, don’t you think? Anyway, just like that, Buffy's and Willow's doubts evaporate. With a text send from Riley's burner phone the plan is put into motion. Outside a literal ninja goomba stomps the surveillance drones and stylishly lands on the apartment's balcony. It's Faith and she came to help. And Buffy hugs her! And gives her the scythe! L-look how far they've come! It's beautiful! Anyway, Sam suggests that Dawn and Xander leave the country, since Dawn is, you know, magical, she even has fake IDs prepared but well, you've seen Chosen so you know how that goes. Dawn and Xander receive an address they're supposed to show up at in two days but for their own safety, they're not given any details and the two groups split.

The Finns, Buffy, Willow and Faith travel then to the safe zone. Willow hacks into the facility's systems. This allows the team to simply drive into the camp through the front gate as the guards can't verify Riley's and Sam's bullshit because the system is down. When they're in Wi133t Rosenberg shuts down the electricity as well. Finns then drive out of the facility action movie style drawing all attention allowing Buffy, Willow and Faith to gain access unopposed. They make it to the power drainer room where they find Jordan and her slayers waiting for them. This is where the issue ends, yes, it's all very cliffhangery.

So yeah, this issue is pretty great! It's entertaining and packed with content. I recommend it!

#buffy comics #buffy season 11 #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #btvs

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araminthe-ispwitch · 7 years

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hi so i love your writing its amazing i especially love gay highschool romance its my favourite i was wondering if i could have some advice im trying to write a school fic and im not sure how to transition between different characters since theres quite a lot. its in third person if that helps. if you have any other tips for school fics id be happy to hear them :)

WOWOKAY HOLY SHIT IT’S BEEN A WHILE SINCE SOMEONE PRAISED MY KNB FIC

(Alsoshit I have to update OTL)

((butalso wOW??? SOMEONE’S ASKING FOR WRITING ADVICE FROM ME???))

(((Okay,I rambled way too much here with advice when you were just asking aboutcharacter transitions… so uh I’ll just put this under Keep Reading. Anon, yourspecific question is answered on #6. If anyone’s interested in writing tips, feel free to skip some ramblings.)))

Well,okay, actually, The ExaggeratedlyPerilous Journey of a Gay High School Romance or GHSR had been my veryfirst school fic (I can’t count that one DNAngel fic ‘cause the setting washalf-outside of school…) and the one thing I noticed while writing it was that ahuge cast of characters needs to be handled with care, otherwise things cangrow way out of proportion.

Letme give a little more exposition on what happened to me exactly first, so you’llunderstand how important writing this fic had been for me:

GHSRwas my second fic in my entire life. After my DNAngel fic (which I really don’t encourage you guys to readunless you want a cringe-y flashback to your teenage weaboo days), I took along break from writing until KnB came along and inspired me. Now, whathappened in that break was that I got slowly influenced by other writers’styles as I read and read, so once I started creating GHSR, it was oodles morerefined than my first fic.

Butit still had that weaboo factor in it somewhere. I hadn’t practiced in a while,so I haven’t gotten rid of that thing yet.

(Andhere I will admit that my first writing style was really heavily inspired by acertain DNAngel fic author. She had written crackfics and I unfortunately adoptedher habit of using “blunette, blue orbs, teardropped, etc.” Yeah. Are youcringing yet? ‘Cause I am. Still, thanks for inspiring me, lady.)

Now,when I wrote Ch. 1 and 2 of GHSR, I was still using my old style. But as Iwrote chapters 3, 4, and 5—and as my word count climbed higher and higher forevery chapter jesus christ—I finally started to find my own style and startedcorrecting all the cringe-y habits I had before (hence why I had refined Chapter1 a while back). So what I’m saying here,anon, is that that experimental school fic of mine practically made me realize howto properly write a school fic.

(I’msorry this will be a bit longer pls bear with me let’s focus on the advice partnow)

Okay,first of all, if your school fic will be having a huge cast (because you canactually writing a fic set in a school without writing a lot of characters init), it’s best to really know each character’s persona. This is easy since if youread a lot of fanfics about the fandom you’re going to write for, you will havea lot of references on how the character is written by the majority. Forexample, I learned how to write Takao by reading works about him, and then Ijust added my own interpretation of him a bit and viola, I now have a Takao whofits my “everyone goes to one school” AU. It’s amazing because a lot of myreaders tell me Takao is so in-character in my fic, but when you really thinkabout it, his entire character isn’t completely shown in the canon as opposedto Kuroko or Kagami, right? But I managed to write him well enough that heseems natural to the readers because they’ve read other works about him, too—andall because I did my research on how his character works!

Anotherexample for this is when I fucked up Kagami’s character. OTL

Backin GHSR’s Ch. 1, I freely wrote Kagami as this food-loving delinquent who ispretty much down to fight. I was sofucking wrong. Watching the next seasons of KnB, I realized with horrorthat I fudged him up so bad and was really so embarrassed and basically, Iwanted to delete my fic right then and there. He’s a food lover, yeah, but he’snot actually actively looking fortrouble. He’s actually a well-mannered kid who is just skirting close todelinquency due to his looks, but is actually just a huge basketball dork.Those times he gets in trouble with authorities? Not actually his fault becausehe’s a mischievous kid—he’s just really unlucky lmao.

(Andthat is why I rewrote Ch. 1. I didn’t do enough research on him and I felt bad.OTL)

Okay,so basically this first advice is me telling you to read other fanfics and do your research. Major characters arepretty easy since they’re popular. It’s the side/minor ones you have to payattention to if you’re going to make them protagonists like what I did withGHSR, since they’re not fully fleshed out and it’s up to the fans to give themtheir own interpretation (like what I did with Sakurai Ryou). A word ofcaution, though: you have to be carefulin distinguishing canon from fanon during your writing. Fanon tends tooverwhelm the canon when the fandom accepts it more—when in reality, the fanonis inaccurate. I can’t think of an example in KnB, but in Yuri on Ice, OtabekAltin had become an Ensemble Dark Horse character in the anime because of hisconnection to Yuri Plisetsky, one of the major characters. Despite his littlescreen time, he’s now one of the most popular guys in the fandom and because ofhis character profile’s small size, the fans have pretty much supplied itthemselves—which kind of ruined his persona a bit. I’ve seen some fanworkswhere he seemed out of character, and that’s a bit dangerous when you’rewriting. So tread carefully when researching characters through fanworks.

Secondadvice: research school fics by reading school fics. Yep, this oneis pretty simple. Just find a school fic, and if you can’t put it down, keepreading and enjoy. You can come back for serious studying on it. (You can do soon my fic lol.) Even better: find a school fic on the fandom you’re going towrite for! If its style is within your standards, then go ahead and use it as astudy material. You might think I’m telling you to copy it, but oh no, I’m actuallytelling you to let it influence yourknowledge of how school fics work. For example, when I was inspired towrite for DNAngel, I never bothered about the mechanics of how schools incertain countries work—because I thoughtthat all schools in the world worked the same. (I hate teenage me.) It wasonly through spending enough time with anime and fanfics that bothered todescribe the Japanese schools’ inside slipper system that I realized that “oh fuck I’ve been basing Japanese schoolson my country’s schools oH SHIT”. Now, I can get away with that in DNAngel,where the rules and the world are a bit screwy. But I cannot bullshit my way through KnB, an anime that is fucking based in Japan. I, as a writer, amexpected to be responsible enough to research the setting of KnB, which is Japan’s education system. So not only amI telling you to research by reading school fics, I am also telling you toresearch the setting of the story. Chances are, there will be some differencesfrom what you know and what is actually real. And not only the setting, too, butthe culture of the school—not all schools mandate their students to clean theirrooms by themselves, and not all schools freely allow their students to go therestroom (looking at you, America). These are simple things you can look up onGoogle, and if you’re lucky, you’ll come across stuff like this in Tumblr, too.

Thirdadvice: it’s okay to be vague sometimes.There’s no need for you to be specific on a lot of details or even reverentlywrite what happened to a character the whole day. You can skip the time to amore interesting event or just be general about something. Because if you getway too focused on giving out every detail, not only will it bore your readers,it will also bore you and tire you out. Take GHSR, for example. In Ch. 5, thetimeline was from Tuesday to Friday, but despite my overly-long chapter, I didn’tactually write every single day on the story from morning to night. I showedwhat was happening in school in general and skipped to the really important andeventful moments for my characters to give movement to the story. Because I can’tjust put so much interaction if it doesn’t mean anything—that would be pointlessand exhausting. This really helpswhen your school fic has a huge cast, like mine. (In fact, the only reason thefirst few chapters were reverently following each day was because the startingcast was small, but it’ll soon grow and I’ll have to put plenty of time-skips.)

Eventhough what you’re writing is a school fic, you still have a designatedprotagonist, so most of the story revolves around them, hence the need to notdetail every single aspect of their life. It’s only called a school fic becausethat’s their setting.

Fourthadvice: your protagonist doesn’t have totalk to everybody in the room. Imagine Kagami in his classroom in my fic,with Aomine beside him, and Kuroko and Sakurai at the back. And then all theother classmates have been replaced with the cast of KnB—so technically, everyoneknows each other inside that room. Now, just because Kagami knows everyonedoesn’t mean he’s entitled to chat all of them up—nor are you entitled to forcehim to. Some writers (most especially those starting out, as I saw this yearsago, but hopefully, this generation has learned) think they have to forceinteractions for everybody so it won’t be boring, but actually, that would besuch a tedious process. You have to think about this realistically, even thoughit’s fiction. Even the most social butterfly in KnB would get tired if theyhold conversations with everyone in the span of a certain period of time. Thepurpose of a school fic is to emulate a school setting, and you don’t reallysee everyone interacting with each other, right? That would be chaos. Let therebe peace—in intervals. For example, when Misdirection was having their firstpractice in GHSR back in Ch. 4, everyone knew each other in the clubroom, but Ididn’t write them all talking to each other. Aomine and Midorima were isolatedfrom the rest and hadn’t talked to the others unless necessary. So unless your character wants to interact with someone specifically, it’sokay to just let them be silent.

Fifthadvice: DON’T PHYSICALLY DESCRIBE YOURCHARACTERS WHEN YOU’RE WRITING IN THEIR PERSPECTIVE.JUST DON’T. There’s this post I’ve found in Tumblr (which I urge you to read) after finishing Chapter5, where it’s a bit demeaning to refer to the character you’re using with blandtitles/epithets like “the blonde” or “the male”, as if that was the only thing going for them. I admitted that it is, but at the same time, I gottause this style sometimes becausethere will always be scenes where several characters are all altogether. InGHSR, I can’t help but refer to Hyuga as the “bespectacled one” because thereare other black-haired upperclassmen besides him. Even with Kagami and Akashi—Ihave to distinguish the two. It helps that you describe their other features,but giving them titles like the ones above can be a bit too much if there’s noone else in the area that has the same description, ya know? So I propose this:

Don’tdo this:

The black-haired and blue-eyed kickboxer stared at the mop of blondehair he could see outside the gates and sighed.

Do this:

The kickboxer stared at the mop of blonde hair he could see outsidethe gates and sighed.

“ButAra!” you say, with shocked eyes, “isn’t the first one your style? That line wasin the beginning of Chapter 5!”

Yes,it is. But you know what else? I wrote that line over two fucking years ago. I posted the chapter over a year ago and I didn’t edit that lineout. But over the course of a year, my style concerning this naming thing haschanged, and now I am actively trying to lessen that kind of thing in my works.I didn’t have to remind my readers that Kasamatsu Yukio had black hair and blueeyes. That was just my ego talking,being fancy as I add the descriptions to his title. That whole thing wasone of the very habits I’ve retained from my DNAngel days—and I fucking hate it actually so please don’t emulate me and just keepyour character’s self-perspective simple. Please.

Okay,sixth advice (and the last one for now because this has become too long): transitioning between characters inthird-person perspective is easy as long as you keep things SIMPLE. Sobasically, you just have to apply the simplicity above when leaping from onecharacter to another! It’s actually pretty easy when it involves dialogue:

Sakurai chuckled nervously at the answer. “I-I’m sure they canimprove, Sensei.”

“Oh, I’m hoping for it. Otherwise, we’ll all be in trouble,” said Kogawith an aggravated sigh.

“Maybe if you didn’t suspend us, we wouldn’t be struggling right now,”muttered Aomine, glancing sideways at the door.

See?For every line of dialogue, there was a corresponding character assigned to it.Dialogue tags and extra exposition helps.

Onthe other hand, for internal narration:

As much as Kise wanted to see Kasamatsu as soon as possible, hedecided to hold back since it was obvious his best friend needed a companion—anotion that Midorima rejected almost immediately, of course. Shintarou didn’tneed anyone tagging along with him as he switched from one department toanother. And he most definitely didn’t need Kise Ryouta pestering him withquestions about Takao.

Seehow in the first half, the narration was in Kise’s third-person POV, and thenon the other half, it’s Midorima’s? As long as you’re referring to who is thinkingat the moment and showing the readers whose mind it is you’re narrating,everything will be fine.

Thisalso works with dialogue-to-narration:

“You four are already in an agreement, correct?” he askedmatter-of-factly. The four high-schoolers paused at his words, staring at himin surprise and bubbling dread. There was something about the way the lightglinted off the math teacher’s glasses that warned them to be cautious, and sothey reluctantly nodded.

Thefirst sentence was in Koga-sensei’s POV, then the rest was showing what Kagami,Aomine, Kuroko, and Sakurai were experiencing.

Justkeep things simple. The best tip I can offer here is “if you’re gettingconfused by the transitions yourself,then chances are, your readers will be, too.”

Soagain:

1)Study your characters’ personas.

2)Research by finding similar works.

3)Being vague in storytelling is alright sometimes.

4)Social interaction with each character in a large group isn’t a must.

5)Don’t dump descriptions on your character all the time. (Unless you’re writingcomedy, but that’s for another lesson.)

6)Keep things simple so character transitions aren’t confusing or jarring.

That’sall I can think of for now. If you still have specific questions, don’t beafraid to message me! Honestly, though? Just keep on experimenting andpracticing with your writing. Read fanfics and do your research. That phasebetween DNAngel and KnB was my dominant experimental phase and actually, I’mstill improving and refining my own style, which you’ll notice if you check outmy new fics. Go and find your own style, too! :)

#writing #writing advice #writing tips #Kuroko no Basuke #KnB #Ara's being weird again #shut up Ara #my god have i ever talked to you through the reviews before?#it's been so long #Ch. 6 is delayed so badly i know...#Anonymous #Ara gets asked

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backonefish · 7 years

Text

ANNUAL WRITING SELF-EVALUATION 2016

@paynner tagged me in this (i hope this is still her name :p). And I’m super excited to do this even if I really don’t have much to say. But anywho, here goes.

1. List of works published this year:

A Whole New World

In a World Like This

(it hit me the minute I posted my second fic that both the titles were incredibly similar and it was too late too change. Le sigh. Tis life)

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

I know IAWLT was the more popular one, but I’m quite impartial to my first one, AWNW (what the hell are these acronyms? Is this what I get for naming fics after song titles?). It was the first one I wrote for the 1D fandom and it kind of took a life of its own. The minute I saw the prompt, the plot fell into place and I loved being able to write all the Disney into their banter. It was just so much fun to write. I don’t think I’ve written anything that has been that much fun and I kept having to tell myself to focus on actual life and not write.

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

Um… neither? I know I’m more proud of AWNW, so ergo, the other should be my least. But I really loved writing both and I’m quite proud of both. I mean they’re not literary masterpieces, but I liked them enough to publish… Having said that, there is still stuff I would like to change.

For AWNW, I still feel like the bet was a little too rushed and forced. I had to keep re-writing that part and wished I could’ve fleshed it out more. I also feel like I suck at endings, bc I get super into developing the plot and once I figure out how to end it, I rush into it so quickly and just want to be done. And then when I go back, I wish I had a full more bodied ending. I dunno if that makes sense, but it’s something I need to work on.

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

Can I pick two? I’m going to pick two. Both are from AWNW. (this part turned out to be quite long. sorreeee)

“I Just Can’t Wait to be King” is what wakes him up on Wednesday. It used to be what woke his parents up every day when he was a child and the Lion King was the best thing ever. Except he’s no longer a kid and karma’s a bitch.

Today when he drinks tea, he covers Simba’s face with a strategically placed thumb. He places the mug in the sink once he’s done, only to double back and place a kiss on Simba’s face. It’s really not Simba’s fault that his neighbour is an asshole who can’t respect sleeping hours.

That night, Louis stuffs his ears with cotton and hopes for the best.

---

On Thursday, hopes come true. For the first time that week, Louis is woken up by his alarm. Not some –

The angst filled notes of “Let it Go” comes thudding through the walls. Never mind then. Hopes are meant to be dashed.

---

It’s Friday and “Tale as Old as Time” is playing through his walls and really, being woken up every fucking day by a piano playing, Disney loving neighbour, is a tale as old as time. Tomorrow is Saturday. Surely, his neighbours understand the sanctity of a Saturday.

---

Surely he has been more wrong in his life? It’s currently 7:20 and Louis is lying in bed listening to a much improved version of “A Whole New World.” Neighbour #2 is getting better at this. Too bad the same can’t be said for Louis’ sleep.”

K, So I loved this bit bc I was quite proud with how things flowed. It was one of the first ideas that came to me about the fic and stylistically, I enjoyed the movement from one day to the next and the chance to incorporate the Disney songs into the transitions.

And

Perhaps he too should write a poem.

He pulls out a blank sheet of paper and chews his pen.

Harry. He’ll write a poem for Harry.

Hair that shines like a princess

No. He scratches that out and starts again. It’s still too soon.

Skin as soft as a petal

Hair as shiny as the sun

Eyes so – what rhymes with petal? Metal? Nettle? Kettle? Ah, yes. That will work.

Eyes as green as my kettle

Harry, you are my number one.

Dimples as deep as the sea

Lips that make me want to come

Heart as pure as can be

Harry, you are my only one.

Perfect. Literary genius, he is. This is Pulitzer Prize worthy. He rewrites the poem carefully on a fresh sheet of paper and then decorates it with hearts and flowers. He spends the rest of the day in eager anticipation for when he gives the poem to Harry.

Ten pm finally rolls around when Harry texts Louis to say that he’s home. Louis bounds over eagerly, knocking obnoxiously until Harry opens the door.

“Here,” he bypasses Harry’s greeting to thrust the poem taped to a bouquet of flowers he’d picked up on his way home.

“Lou,” Harry breathes, caught off guard, “What is this.”

“I wrote you a poem,” Louis points at the paper, rocking on his feet impatiently. “Read it.”

“Okay,” Harry says, floored. He places the flowers on the table and carefully pulls the poem free. He reads silently, lips mouthing along the words. When he’s done he looks at Louis, eyes wide and slightly teary.

“This is the nicest thing anyone’s done for me,” Harry says, voice wavering slightly.

“So you liked it?” Louis asks, shy all of a sudden.

“I loved it. Your kettle is very green,” Harry agrees.

Louis nods. He’s quite proud of that line. Harry reaches out to cup Louis’ jaw with one hand, poem still clutched tightly in his other.

“Your lips make me want to come too,” Harry whispers, leaning down.

This is my other favourite bc its so absurd. The poem is so bad. I love it. It’s crazy and stupid. It was the most ridiculous thing I could write and I did write it and it just worked with the nature of the fic. Also I could easily picture Larry being this ridiculous about shit (*cough* the wind makes nice waves) and being so in love with each other that they can’t see how bad it is. So yeah. These two pieces.

(also wow, apologies for all the grammatical errors in AWNW)

5. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

Ahhh, I love every single kudo, like, bookmark and comment. I’m still flabbergasted that someone would take the time to appreciate my fic in any sense. So thank you.

If I had to pick one (im sorry if this is cheesy) but I loved the comment paynner left on IAWLT. I wrote it based on her prompt but never in a million years would I expect her to leave such a heartfelt comment on my fic. Like, she picked excerpts she liked and commented on it, promoted it on tumblr and then even proposed to me (I said yes). It honestly doesn’t get better than that. Forever grateful.

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

Oh… um right before I started writing Larry. I used to write for other fandoms and stopped bc I was no longer inspired? And just real life got in the way and I didn’t see the purpose of writing anymore.

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you

This is super tough. I want to say the Harry and Louis I wrote for AWNW. They’re both so ridiculous and over the top. I never imagined writing them like that and it actually working.

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

Well one, I started writing again, and two, I’m writing RPF and AUs which I never imagined id do. But moreover, I wrote more comedic, light hearted fluff. I used to write angst bc I get angst and it was what I always wrote. So coming back into a completely different genre was nerve-wracking but also so much fun and quite rewarding. I got to be sillier in my work, insert more of my thought process into the characters, and actually create worlds.

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

I want to return to angst next year, and write a longer fic. Mainly, commit to something long enough to actually write it. The last time I wrote a multi-chaptered fic, I was so tired by the end of it and was the worst at updating. So yeah, commit to writing, create a proper schedule to write, and all that jazz.

Oo I also really want to develop my side characters more. Make them more well rounded and bodied and more central to the plot.

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

Can I just say all the authors in this fandom have been a huge inspiration. I’ve been reading fic for the past year and a half and I’m always so incredibly floored by the variety, talent, and uniqueness of each fic. So, yeah, a huge thank you to everyone who has written.

I will pick out three (bc I love doing things in threes) who have definitely been a positive influence.

Zarah5 (I hope that wherever she is, she’s doing amazing.) Stylistically, the way she writes… wow. The ability to convey emotion and fears through actions and dialogue only, is so unique and I’m in awe of how she does it. Her plots are so detailed and nuanced and just pull me under (see what I did there? I can be punnier than harry). Also her sentence structure? She embodied the characters as the narrators so well and utilizes that into unique sentence structures. I’ve yet to see someone who can write in such a manner.

@alienproof so I’ve commented on chelsie’s work about how she creates atmosphere. You read her fics and you’re instantly pulled into the mood of the world. Finding Lou? The Wonderlands? Omh, the wonderlands. Guys, you don’t understand how much I love that fic. I’ve never waited that eagerly for a fic update in my life. Her Louis and Harry are so much older, but so well written, their fears and motives and dynamic. And the atmosphere. It always boils down to the atmosphere and I love it.

@paynner . duh. I adore her writing. ADORE. Her fics are the best pick-me-ups you could ever need. They’re so funny, so smutty, so unique. Also she’s this plethora of prompts and every time I come across one of them, I’m like ooo I want to write it. Obviously, I went and wrote one. So, literally, she’s been the most positive influence. But yeah, I love her mind, I love how well she writes and I LOVE how somethin’ bout you was so different than her usual style of writing but it works so well! I remember only realising who the author was bc princess isn’t subtle at all, but otherwise I got so sucked up in the world and the plot and the unique way the love/hate dynamic worked that I couldn’t even tell it was her. Oh, also – how the hell did she manage to write so much in a year?

You people amaze me. And make me think, hey i should give this writing thing a shot too.

11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

Lmao, my love for BSB? Im still amazed that I was able to insert them into a fic. I literally wrote three dates for Harry and Louis in IAWLT bc I wanted to write about the Backstreet Boys and then I went and named the fic after their song. Sue me, I’m trash for them.

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

Write what you want. Write what’s fun. You’ll enjoy it more than if you try to write what other people want to read. Also write for fic exchanges bc it puts you on a deadline and provides you with prompts and gives you an automatic audience. (I guess this is mainly for newer writers, but I really have no new wisdom for experienced, established authors… )

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

Oh… finishing for sure. I’m working on a med school, friends with benefits fic, set in Canada which is multi-chaptered bc why not bite off more than I can chew. The entire thing is planned out, but I’ve been stuck on the third chapter and life is a thing that refuses to be ignored… so yeah. Lets see. But I’d like to get it finished this year.

keep everything crossed

14. Tag three writers whose answers you’d like to read. ;)

@donotdialnine and @juliusschmidt who I’ve recently been reading again. So much love for their work. And @sadamenoito bc i’ve read all her fics a few too many times. Dunno if you’ve done it already, but if you haven’t….

*All answers should be about works published in 2016. Also, you can skip any questions you hate or don’t want to answer, but please leave them on the list so that others can do them if they want. :)

#mine #i hope this isn't trash #thanks for tagging me j <3 #reminded me why i love writing again #fic things #writing #im gonna shut up now

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