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forestwater87 · 4 years

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Ok this is super embarrassing but you’re one of my favorite writers in this uh.. whatever this blogosphere is so!! I wanna try and take a crack at writing my own fanfic but.. I got no idea where to even start. Any advice?

Oh man, I feel awful about this! I didn’t know my inbox had any new messages, so some of these asks have been sitting here for . . . some time.

Anyway, first off thank you very much! Secondly, the most obvious advice is just, you know, “do it.” But that’s infinitely easier said than done. I started writing fanfic when I was around 10 years old, so overthinking it wasn’t an issue, since I thought I was the world’s greatest writer. Assuming you’re not 10 years old and as blind to the concept of literary criticism as I was . . . well, the first step is obviously getting an idea. EDIT: Holy shit, this is long. I’m gonna have to break this bad boy up with headers, like it’s a real blog post or something.

Getting Ideas/Inspiration

I don’t know if you already have something you’d like to write about or if you’re still at the “gee that looks like fun” level of fanfic ruminating, but if you’re having trouble coming up with ideas, turning to the existing fandom is a great place to start!

1: Filling in fandom gaps: I’ve found a lot of my best fic ideas by looking through what already existed and seeing where there was something missing; when I first started writing for Camp Camp, literally only @raenbowsofficial created anything for Gwenvid -- it didn’t even have a ship name yet, and I’m pretty sure the 3 people into it were still throwing “daven” and “gavid” around as well -- so there being zero other fics for it meant that if I wanted it to exist, I’d have to be the one to write it. (That’s also nice if you’re kind of insecure, because when no one else has tried the idea you’re interested in, you have no pressure to compare it to anything else.)

Also, you could take a popular/already existing concept and write it the way you’d like to see it, if the existing fanfics do something with the story or characters that you’re not thrilled with. That’s handy because it gives you a general blueprint to work off of in terms of tropes and broad story beats, while letting you explore something new. Obviously, don’t rip off someone else’s fic note-for-note, but being inspired by someone else is a great way to kickstart your creativity! If you do have a specific author or story that you’re using as a jumping-off point for your own writing, I would strongly recommend linking them in your author’s notes at the beginning or end of the fic, and maybe gifting the story to them! You don’t have to, since the creation is entirely your own, but it’s still always nice to acknowledge the people who inspire you the most.

2: Fandom inception. If you want to be a little more direct and literal, there’s always the option of writing fanfic of a fanfic or fanart that you really love, if there’s a universe or story idea that you like, and you want more of it. As long as you give credit and notify the original creator, I think you’d have no issues in terms of fanfic etiquette, and I imagine they’d be honored to have inspired your own writing. Fandom is a very collaborative experience, after all, and we’re all in this together! :)

3. For more general “I have a vague idea of what I want to do (the ship, or maybe a tiny plot bunny) but I’m not sure where to go with it,” my biggest recommendation is music. Especially folk indie-rock music, which is 90% angst and 100% haunting. And again, looking at fanfic/art is a great way to get inspired -- I have a tendency to put up a particularly good or emblematic piece of fanart/fic in another window when I’m working on something tricky to write, just for something to stare at when my ideas start running dry (shoutout to @doritofalls, @ellohcee, and the aforementioned RA for being my go-tos when I need to stare at something pretty to feel inspired; there are absolutely others, because this fandom is filled with absurdly talented people, but those 3 are my heroes of inspiration and if you SOMEHOW don’t already know them, fix that immediately).

Wow, that’s a lot and it’s literally just all about getting an idea . . . which you might already have. Yikes. For the sake of people who have to scroll past this, let’s put the rest under a cut:

Fleshing Out the Idea: An Ode to Outlines

Some people are able to just sit down and write something incredible from a vague idea, and the story just builds on itself without any sort of planning or organization to guide them along the way. These people are named Cipher/Campernetics, and we hate her for being unfairly talented.

For the rest of us, outlines are essential.

My outlines tend to be insanely specific, because I’m very afraid of letting a single idea slip through the cracks, and I build on them over time as I get increasingly sure of where the story’s going. The early outlines tend to be extremely vague, with lots of “and then something happens” connecting major plot points. An example for a current WIP I’m doing right now:

(Seriously, “Julia and everything”? Future Forest is going to be so pissed at current Forest when she reaches that point and realizes she has no idea what she’s doing)

And as the story starts to take shape and a plot eventually forms -- they tend to take at least 10 chapters to materialize, but they do generally show up! One of the great things about fanfiction is that plot is largely optional, though, so no worries if you’re starting without a full story idea -- I find myself writing more and more details down, if for no other reason than that I want to make sure I remember what I was thinking when I finally get to that scene (because I have absolutely gotten to a point in a story and forgotten what I’d had planned. It sucks). Here’s an example from another fic with pretty significant spoilers if you can figure out which one it is oops:

I’d recommend keeping your outlines pretty simple, at least to start with: words and phrases, rather than whole-ass sentences like the above. The complexity will develop as your ideas do, so no need to wrack your brain trying to write out the entire story in bullet form.

I use the bolded ideas as stepping stones, more or less; I’ll write out the piece of the story that each line represents, which can be as little as a sentence or as much as 4 or more chapters (RIP my most recent long-running fic), then delete that line and move on to the next.

Bolding them isn’t necessary, but it does make it easier to differentiate at a glance what needs to be written. If you keep everything in the same hundred-page Google Doc like I do, this is very important.

Your outline doesn’t have to be well-written, and you can 100% use fillers like “and then something happens here.” I do that all the time -- again, another completely different story:

Now, the vaguer things are, the more annoyed Future You will be when it comes time to write whatever it’s bulleting -- there’s a reason I haven’t updated this fic, and it’s because I have zero idea what the everliving fuck “Pinky-and-the-Brain-ing all over the place” means -- but it’s really good for when you’re first getting started sketching out the vague outline of your fic. The more you panic trying to figure out all the twists and details at the very start, the less likely you’re ever just going to sit down and write the damn thing.

(This might be why I don’t write plot-heavy stories, to be fair. Mystery writers very well might have to have it all planned out from the get-go, and I’d recommend chatting with someone who’s a bit less “coffeeshop AU” and a bit more Agatha Christie for that kind of advice.)

Knowing When to Post

There are people that exist, who have amazing self-control, who can wait until their entire story is written and then release it in sections, at regular intervals, until the story is completed.

I am not one of these people, though I try to be with literally every single fic I’ve ever written.

Personally, I do this until I reach a point where I get stuck and need validation, and then post what I have in a giant chunk and then don’t update it for several months. This is almost universally known as the worst way to write fanfics, both in terms of getting interaction from fans and keeping readers from wanting to kill you, and if you have the ability to write the entire thing and sit on it until it’s ready to be shared, you are a hero.

Alternatively, if you can actually stick to a set schedule of writing it as you go and still update with a new chapter every X days, you are not human and I’m terrified of you, because if you find a way to weaponize this power you will rule the world.

Honestly, a good rule of thumb? Post it when you’re ready for people to read it, whether it’s done or not. Not all works will get done, and it seems mean to deny people the delicious little stub you’ve written even if you’re not going to finish it. When you’re happy with what you have -- or are so tired of looking at it that you need to post it or you’ll throw your computer out the window -- just do it and let out a sigh of relief, then either take a few days before going back to writing or just jump in immediately like a goddamn masochist.

(I have tried to get far enough ahead that I can start posting the already-written stuff on a schedule, figuring by the time I’m caught up I’ll have completed the entire story and won’t have any awkward gaps. Ahahahahahahahahaha that has never once worked.)

If you’re not certain about your writing, get a beta! The fandom is full of talented people who’d be happy to read over your work, and if the person you ask doesn’t have the time or spoons, they probably have a few ideas of other people you could reach out to. You don’t need a beta, but it always makes me feel better to have another set of eyes look over my writing before posting, and my beta always catches things I completely missed. Plus, you get a nice taste of that sweet, sweet validation we all crave.

This . . . is a bad guide. Just in general. The advice is . . . not good, and I think it’s largely useless. But I keep trying to think of useful things to add to it and coming up empty, so I hope something in here helped, and if you’d like to bounce your ideas off of someone, feel free to shoot me a message! Talking ideas over with friends is a great way to flesh them out as well, and I am happy to be anyone’s fandom friend.

#ask forest #forestwriting #legit no one is going to read this and i'm not saying that to judge anyone #in fact i'll lowkey judge you if you DO read all of this because why #Anonymous

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nightswithkookmin · 3 years

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I hate it here

Why does he get to appropriate people's race and still have so much access??

I thought impersonation was a crime.

I thought stealing someone's identity was a crime. How is he walking around Freely and taking pictures with hot chicks?😒

THAT SHOULD BE ME😭😭😭

If he is profiting off of his looks he needs to be sued by Hybe IMMEDIATELY.

HYBE SHOULD HIRE ME - If they can over look my gossipy nature and the fact they really can't trust me with any company secrets plus I'll spend all my time staring at Jikook and simping for YoonminhopeJoon🙂

Bapsae aaahhhhh 😏😏😏

To answer your question Barbara, you are not the only confused one when it comes to these labels. We all are.

A lot of people use Bi these days instead of Pan because people find the term Pansexuality confusing and offensive so....

Strange times.

Offensive because some people in the Bi community feel it's a redundant term as to them it means the same as Bisexuality. As such they feel the use of Pansexuality is erasure and invalidating of their own identity.

From what I understand of this ongoing label wars in the community, those who get offended by Pansexuality do so mostly because they do not view trans identity as a seperate unique gender in of it's own but merely as an adjective.

To such, there is no thing as cis boy or trans boy and that a boy is a boy. So being Bi to them means they are attracted to boys( cis or trans) and girls (regardless of whether they are cis or trans)- which is what Pansexuality actually is💀

Here in lies the conflict. Cis women and some people, myself included, see trans identity as a seperate gender identity from cis identity and differentiates between a biological Male or female and a trans Male or female.

As such a boy is not a boy, a boy is either cis boy or trans boy and both are valid.

This distinction is what mostly sets bisexuality from pan sexuality from my point of view.

It's disheartening. Not to mention anxiety inducing and confusing as hell when we can't even agree on basic terms to describe ourselves.

I don't know how conscious BTS are of these conversations and so I've always viewed their use of labels such as boy/girl in their lyrics with utmost fascination given as there are trans genders within their community.

I often find myself wondering what Joonie means when he talks of girls- does he mean cis girls or trans girls? Would he date either or both?

Personally, I view Trans identity as a valid, separate unique form of identity, unique from Cis identity and not just as an epithet.

I date and definitely find trans girls romantically and sexually attractive especially if there's minimum trace of their cis masculinity in them.

But I have friends who identify as lesbians but wouldn't date trans girls regardless of how they present. Yet they wouldn't mind dating a stud or Masculine presenting females as long as they are Cis girls. Talk of transphobia💀

Some girls call me Bi because I like cis and other fems and I'm perfectly fine with it. However embracing that label in Male spaces gives me a lot of headaches because they just assume I'd date any man too.

I have dated fem tops (girly girls who like to be the dominant one in relationships and also prefer to penetrate other girls during sex) who identify as lesbians but have threesomes with gay men💀

I mean as long as they get to fuck those men or penetrate/ top them or so they say and yes I've seen it happen with my two eyes- I have gay threesomes don't judge or tell my pastor😥

I'm going to hell as it is no need to compound it🤧

My ex was like that. She dated a gay guy she was topping and was gonna marry him because her family was pressuring her to get married. The dude was closeted and their relationship was convenient until he came out and lowkey outed her in the process.

When I asked her if she was bisexual she said she didn't have a label because none suited her at the time and that she likes girls regardless of how those girls identify as. So a femboi, andro, trans girls, cis girls, straight girls, gay girls, as long as you feminine she likes.

I'm a bit like that too... minus the topping fembois and gays part💀

If I had a dick it would be useless 🤣

I say all this to say, labels are a bit tricky and a lot of people struggle to find the right fit.

Gay or queer is our go to label.

For the sake of the conversation we having, I'd define being Bi as liking your own gender plus the opposite of your gender but in an exclusive way. Being Bi also means the gender of a person matters to you in your determination of what you find attractive.

However being Pan means you place less emphasis on the gender of the person you are attracted to and more emphasis on the qualities those people possess- really doesn't matter what the other person is if you like em you like em. Which means a person don't gotta be cis or trans boy or girl or other for you to like them. They just have to have a certain quality you find attractive.

Just like you said, you being a girl find gurls attractive too but I don't think you'd be willing to date a girl- cis or trans- a person has to be Male for you to date them. Right?

That exclusivity is what makes you straight. You like one gender to the exclusion of others.

Gays and lesbians like one gender, the same gender, to the exclusion of others.

Bisexuals may like multiple genders, different genders, to the exclusion of others.

Pansexuals like multiple genders but not to the exclusion of others.

If Gender is important to you in determining who a suitable romantic partner is you are either Straight or Bi. If gender is not important to your determination of who a suitable partner is then you're pansexual.

Pansexuals are gender blind🤣

If Pansexuals are bisexuals, there should be a label for the category currently viewed as bisexuals.

When Suga says " I look at personality and it's not limited to girls" I believe he's talking about the qualities he finds attractive in PEOPLE.

When he sings boy or girl my tongue technology will send you to hongkong it carries a similar sentiment. He's saying basically it doesn't matter what you identify as he can make you orgasm under his- rap?

That's pan energy to me. You go pan Suga! BAPSAE AAAHHH🤭

IF he were queer then I'd assume he's more likely to be pan not bi- hypocritically speaking.

But he is NOT QUEER.

SOPE YOONMIN AND ANYSHIP INVOLVING SUGA IS NOT REAL or even likely to be.

Since we are both men, how can my heart throb for a man. This implies he believes his heart only has to throb for the opposite sex. Yea no he is definitely not bi.

Straight as an arrow this one.

He doesn't find men sexually or romantically attractive. He is not gay or bi and I don't think he wants to be.

I assume he's straight. I do.

And as a straight dude, he's certainly intriguing and I can see how certain actions of his make people queer read him especially in his dominant ships Sope and Yoonmin and Taegi.

But I don't think he goes out of his way to queer code himself.

And I see what you mean by the exaggerated speech. Rappers do trash talk, boast and talk shit in their music but they are also notoriously homophobic with the exception of a few. References of queerness in their lyrics are usually often used pejoratively to slur other rappers etc.

May be I'm too black, gay, and a woman to overlook the misogyny and homophobia that's traveled through Black American hip pop to elsewhere even if it takes on new family friendly labels such as Kpop or BTS.

I don't tend to read hiphop lyrics through non cis non straight non male lens. Unless of course it's from a queer artist but even that there's almost always something internalized.

It's fascinating how people look at a hip hop artist and glean their sexuality from their lyrics....

I'm dozing off. Will read over this tomorrow and add anything I might have missed.

GOLDY

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mysticpetals · 3 years

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Farewell, sunshine

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Jake × f!mc (Syianne)

𝙂𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: angst, a sprinkle of fluff

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 4.9k (oof)

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: All Jake ever wanted was to find his sister and protect the person who had helped him more than anyone. Only, he slowly began to realise that bringing Syianne into this had caused more harm than good.

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: mentions of blood, physical attack, violence, hospitals, medical coma, panic attack.

𝙋𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙨: Anonymous asked: 5. “Wake up! Please wake up.” MC and Jake finally get to meet for the first time, but everything is heavily dipped in angst. 😂 Also I adore your writing and keep up the good work!

Anonymous asked: Can you give us the most angsty jealous filled over protective short with Jake x MC i want all the ANGST to be seeping out of my screen

@mnrangera asked: Here's a nice angsty scenario for you: MC is in Duskwood continuing their investigation but is caught out in town after dark. They are on the phone with Jake when they are attacked by the Man Without a Face like Jessie was.

𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨: I know this has been LOOOOONG overdue and I apologise for the wait. Thank you to all my followers for being patient, especially those who sent the requests in. I hope the long wait is worth it and you enjoy it. Also, please read the warnings before proceeding, I don't want any of you to be triggered by something I wrote. There may be inaccuracies in how I progressed medical conditions and general working of the hospitals so I apologise for that. Please do not repost or translate this fic anywhere else!! I'm literally begging you, please don't ruin my hard work like this. I would love if I could get some sort of feedback, whether it be reblogs or comments or just anon asks. I've tried to improve my writing and I hope it shows a little in this. This is my Christmas and New Year present all wrapped in one! I hope you all have a great 2021 <3

It was a cold, winter evening with the sky painted in a plethora of warm colors and Jake felt like finally things were going his way.

He, along with Syianne, had been working tirelessly for the past few weeks to find out what happened to Hannah. They had faced a lot of challenges along the way, with cryptic diary entries and threats directed towards them and their loved ones, but still, they'd prevailed and spent every ounce of free time, getting more information about Hannah's perpetrator.

They finally had the facts about what happened the day she was kidnapped and only the identity of the criminal was hidden. Syianne had suggested that she should go to Duskwood to try and find the last puzzle piece, to which Jake had been a little apprehensive. She argued that the rest of the group had already been through enough, with getting stalked and receiving threats and insisted that she should be the one to carry out her search in secret.

She never once asked for him to come along because she knew how dangerous it would be for him and she didn't want him to get caught. Jake was instantly warmed by the thought that someone cared so much about him, to think of his well being first.

So that night, as she called him to update him on her findings and plan after she went to Duskwood, he found himself speaking his thoughts impulsively.

"What if I came too?"

There was silence on the other end and Jake thought he might have overstepped or made it weird but she answered before he could stammer an apology.

"I'd like that. But only if you're comfortable and safe."

She told him to ruminate on it for a while and bid him goodnight. Jake thought about whether it was a logical thing to do. If Syianne planned to go undercover, he couldn't very well let her go into the lion's den alone. So he made up his mind and texted Syianne to let her know.

Jake [10:46 pm]

I'll come to Duskwood too.

Is it okay if we don't meet straight away?

I...I don't think I'm ready yet.

Syianne [10:47 pm]

I was lowkey hoping you'd say that ahaha

And of course! Take as much time as you need :)

That night, he slept with a smile on his face, excitement churning in his stomach.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

Syianne was looking forward to her trip to Duskwood.

She knew it was a potentially dangerous situation and she was only going there to investigate but knowing that Jake might be there too, sent a spark of thrill through her body. They had been speaking non-stop for the past few weeks and she really liked talking to him. His answers to questions about him or his life were adorably confusing and Syianne realized that she really wanted to get to know him, be his friend or possibly something more, if their flirty banter was anything to go by.

Her bag contained all the essentials she could need, along with a sketchbook and pencils to use in case of boredom. She couldn't leave Matrix with any of her friends as they were either busy or allergic to cats so her only option was to take her along.

She had never booked a flight so fast. Knowing she would have to take a car from the airport to the rest of the way to Duskwood did nothing to damper her excitement. She couldn't wait to meet everyone once they found Hannah, some more so than the others.

The trip was nothing eventful, just a lot of travelling and it made Syianne a little tired but the idea of meeting her friends and finally putting a stop to all this madness, made her keep going. She wouldn't admit it if you asked her but she was looking forward to possibly seeing Jake as well. She knew he might not be comfortable enough to meet her yet and she completely respected that, but the thought still lingered.

She checked in to the only hotel Duskwood had, not meeting the receptionist's - Lilly's - eyes and was eternally grateful that she had only leaked her number and not her photo in that video. It would have been much more difficult to move about Duskwood, if that were the case.

The room they had was pretty basic, but not too bad for a few nights. Matrix prowled around the room, getting herself comfortable in the new environment while Syianne slowly unpacked the few clothes and necessities she brought.

In the corner of her mind, there was the thought that Jake might be staying at this hotel too and that sent a shiver of excitement down her spine. But she was a woman of her word and would wait until Jake was ready and would not try to look for him.

She had a mission here and she wanted to be damn sure that that's what she would be focusing on and save Hannah.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

Jake was supposed to be in Duskwood about two nights ago.

He had encountered some issues with removing his tracks from the internet, as well as trying to find a safe way to drive to Duskwood without exposing himself. Working as a hacker did have some benefits and finally he managed to find a guy who made him three fake number plates that he would interchange every once in a while, so his whereabouts couldn't be traced.

He had let Syianne know of the unexpected delay but to his surprise, she was enjoying herself in Duskwood. She had told him that Jessy gave her a virtual tour of the town once and she was excited to explore all those places in person. She talked to him at night, describing the beauty of the small town and Jake felt himself growing wistful, wondering what they could do together if he had been there. But then again, hadn't he said that he wouldn't show himself right now? He was cautious - just as he had been all his life - but something about Syianne just made him want to let his guard down, to just be selfish for once.

He had no time to think further on it because finally, all the preparations and precautionary measures were done and he could drive to Duskwood. He couldn't leave Glitch at home because he had attachment issues and couldn't go without Jake for a long period of time. So he ushered him into his carrier and told him he could claw all the wood he wanted when they reached their destination and Glitch meowed in agreement. He had always been a smart cat, after all.

Changing the number plates every hour was exhausting, especially when he didn't do much manual work but he endured it, if it meant he was one step closer to finding his sister.

When he finally reached Duskwood, he was in awe of how normal it looked, how silent; how someone who didn't know that a girl had been kidnapped would think of this place as the perfect getaway. But he knew better, didn't he? This town held dark secrets, secrets that people weren't willing to acknowledge and he was going to expose them for what they were, no matter what it took.

Signing into the Duskwood hotel was as awkward as he imagined it to be, his half sister having no idea who he was and looking at his dark, baggy clothes suspiciously. He wasn't blaming her, he would have probably done the same if a strange man came out of nowhere to stay in Duskwood of all places. Lilly gave him a tight smile as he picked up his bag and key and made way to his room.

Syianne had texted him earlier that day that she would be checking out the lake in the evening, where Jessy was attacked. Jake was against it from the start but he should have known how stubborn she could be and eventually, he had to agree but only on the condition that she stays on video call with him the whole time. Syianne was evidently bewildered by his request, judging by the way she kept writing and erasing her reply but after a while, she managed to ask if he would be comfortable with that. Jake's heart warmed at her considerate words, never really having anyone who would care about his emotions, he was always surprised when Syianne said something like that. He replied that he would just turn off his camera or point it at the lamp or something but he had to be sure about her safety.

And that's why, he was sitting with his phone in front of him in the evening, camera turned off as he watched her fondly, pointing out the strange birds she saw.

"Ah, I wish you were here! The lake is so pretty this time and the light from sunset is reflecting off the water and it makes an amazing view," she said, voice breathy with the exertion of walking for a while and a tone of awe towards the scene in front of her.

"That's sufficient sightseeing, don't you think?" Her voice suddenly took a serious note and Jake straightened up in his chair. He was afraid but couldn't say anything. He had already agreed to let her go with a condition and he feared if he asked her to not investigate, she would probably end the call and keep looking for clues by herself. At least on the phone, he could look at her surroundings and made sure no one sneaked up on her.

"If you say so," he said half-heartedly, glancing at the surroundings behind her as she narrowed her eyes at his dismissive tone.

The next twenty minutes were spent with Syianne looking around the lake and Jake looking over her shoulder virtually. She had scouted the edge and went a little deeper into the forest, looking for a car, a boat, a mask - anything, really - but the search had proved to be futile so far. Everything was as peaceful as ever, no signs of any disturbance and it made Jake a little antsy. Nothing was ever this perfect.

"Well, since we can't find anything here, I think you should come back. It's getting late," Jake said, looking at the already darkened sky. It was an ominous red color and Jake was getting more and more worried as people left the lakeside.

Syianne frowned but didn't argue and that made him sigh in relief.

"Yeah, you're right. No use trying to find something that isn't there," she said and started walking again.

"Wait, you walked here? Didn't you bring your car?" Jake asked and she shook her head.

"Nope, I wanted to enjoy Duskwood and being in a car wouldn't have helped," she smiled at the camera and Jake let out an almost inaudible sigh. Why couldn't she care about her safety a little more? She was going to give him grey hair before he reached his thirties, that was for sure.

As he began to reply to her, he caught movement from the left side of the screen and instantly grabbed his phone, expanding the background.

There was a silhouette of a hand.

"Syianne, run!" He shouted, as the figure's arm came into view and she looked back in surprise before starting to sprint, the camera shaking from her movements.

Jake scrambled to get his car keys, not bothering with what he was wearing and ran towards the hotel parking, getting into his car and connecting the GPS to his phone, all the while listening to Syianne's panting breaths as she ran away from the man without a face.

Getting her location was no problem for him and he just hoped he would arrive there on time.

"Jake, I'm scared. I'm hiding behind a big building and I think he went on ahead," she whispered, voice shaky and trembling and Jake's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as he glanced over at his phone to watch her looking around herself in a panic.

Five more minutes and he would reach her location. Jake had never been more thankful that Duskwood was a small town and the hotel wasn't so far away from the lake.

"I'm coming, Syianne. Just a little while more and we'll go back together."

"Okay, I think I'm safe for now," she said. There was a sound of slow careful footsteps as Syianne came out from behind the building.

The abrupt sound of a gasp almost made him lose control of the steering wheel and he increased his speed as he heard what sounded like a scuffle. Syianne had probably dropped her phone because it only showed the dark sky and sounds of her struggling against her attacker.

"No! Let–"

Jake let out a harsh breath, jaw tightening as he heard Syianne's scream. He drove straight for a bit and turned the next corner and saw the man trying once again to restrain her. His eyes saw red and he honked and honked like it was nobody's business, speeding towards them.

The man without a face seemed to have realised that someone was coming to help as he pushed Syianne roughly into the wall and ran away towards the forest. As much as Jake wanted to go after him, Syianne was his first priority and he quickly got out of the car, dashing towards her crumpled form, lying on the ground.

He fumbled with his phone, calling the local police and asking for an ambulance, his body shaking all the while, as he knelt down next to Syianne.

He felt tears welling in her eyes as he looked at her battered form and realised that she was bleeding.

"Syianne?" He spoke in a scared voice.

"Syianne!" He said more forcefully, repeatedly patting her face in hope she'll look at him but her eyes were still glassy and unfocused as if she couldn't comprehend anything.

"I'm...so sorry. I…" her voice trailed off as she struggled to breathe and Jake cried, seeing her in so much pain, when he couldn't do anything except wait for the ambulance to arrive.

After a moment, Syianne's eyes fluttered closed and Jake's panic rose to new heights.

"No, no, no! Wake up! Please wake up!" He shouted and begged but she didn't respond to his calls.

His hand was soaked in her blood from where he was applying pressure on the wound at her side. The blood hadn't stopped flowing and Jake was worried that she was losing too much, too soon.

"What do I do? What do I do?" He muttered to himself, adrenaline coursing through his veins, with only one thought in his head – to save her.

He heard sirens in the distance and was relieved to know that help was coming. He pushed up the fallen hood of his jacket up on his head and looked at Syianne for any signs of consciousness. Her breaths were shallow and eyes still closed.

Soon enough, paramedics rushed to the scene and immediately started tending to Syianne's wounds. Jake felt as if he was just a spectator, not being able to do anything but watch. Someone came up to him and started asking him questions, about how he found her, who he was to her and if he knew anything about the attack. He answered all the questions as carefully as he could, giving a fake name, because he still wasn't sure if the police department was in league with the kidnapper or not.

As soon as he was done with the questioning, a paramedic approached him, letting him know that they were taking Syianne to the hospital and he would have to come there for a bit of paperwork. Jake hesitated and said he'd drive there in his own car and the paramedic nodded in response and left.

He got in his car and put his head in his hands, shaking at the unfortunate turn of events. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Syianne was just going to check out the lake and then surprise her friends the next day by telling them she'd be here for a few days and enjoy Duskwood together.

Jake was even thinking of meeting her in person and telling her that she had changed his life for the better. But his cowardice, his meticulous nature to not let anyone know who he was or where he was might have cost Syianne her life tonight. Even thinking about it had tears pooling in his eyes and he took a deep breath to bite back the sobs that were threatening to break once again.

He felt guilty, so so guilty and couldn't bring himself to start the car. He was pretty sure that if – no when – Syianne woke up, she would want nothing to do with the man who put her life in danger. With that thought rooted in his mind, he opened his phone and with trembling hands, sent Jessy a text about Syianne's accident. He received a reply almost immediately.

Jessy [8:46 pm]

What?

How did she come here?

You know what? If she's not okay, I'm going to hunt you down and make you pay.

Jake had no trouble believing she was telling the truth. All he wanted to do was help and now everything was falling apart. Taking a deep but shaky breath, he started the car but instead of going to the hospital, he turned towards the hotel.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

Jessy had no trouble believing that the hacker was telling the truth. His texts were frantic and he practically begged her to go to the hospital to see Syianne. She had no idea how she got here, but hearing that she got attacked, just like she was, was enough to make her worry and drive to the hospital, after letting Cleo know. She figured that the rest of them deserved to know too.

She rushed to the front desk, breathless and worried, and one of the nurses told Jessy that the doctors were with Syianne and she'd have to wait until they were done to know how she was.

After some time of relentless pacing, Cleo arrived and Jessy filled her in on everything that the hacker told her, which wasn't much, but it gave them a good idea of what had happened. Cleo said that she hadn't told anyone else yet and that they should do so as soon as the doctors had an update on Syianne's condition.

About an hour later, a nurse came upto Jessy and Cleo, asking if they knew Syianne and upon their confirmation, led them to the room she was kept in. They weren't allowed to enter yet as the doctors were still in the room, but Jessy gasped when she saw Syianne's scratched up face, with bandages covering her head.

"Oh my gosh." Cleo breathed and Jessy felt a rush of sorrow as she averted her eyes.

The doctors after completing their examination, told them that Syianne was stabbed in the side but luckily it didn't puncture anything important and they closed up the wound to allow it to heal. What was more concerning, was the fact that she was hit on the back of her head.

"She most likely suffered from a concussion, in which case, it is of the utmost importance that the patient doesn't fall asleep," the doctor said and Jessy and Cleo looked at each other uneasily.

"But Syianne fell asleep…" Jessy began and the doctor gave her an apologetic smile.

"That's right. She was unconscious when she was brought here. The superficial wounds are taken care of, we just don't know when she'll wake up."

Both of them were too stunned to say anything and a call for the doctor from one of the nurses broke them out of their stupor.

"So, she's in a coma?" Cleo asked.

The doctor hesitated before answering.

"Essentially, yes. But we can't know for sure without further observation. If the injury isn't severe she'll wake up soon, we just have to monitor her constantly and look for any changes." He then walked off when his pager went off, most likely to see another patient.

"Don't worry, Jessy. She'll wake up soon," Cleo said, placing a hand on her shoulder, as they looked into Syianne's room, seeing her sleeping peacefully, as if nothing was wrong and she was just taking a nap.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

As soon as she got home from the hospital, Jessy sent out a row of furious texts to the hacker, clouded by her anger and hopelessness. In her head, it was all his fault that Syianne was twittering between life and death. He was the one who asked her to come to Duskwood without letting any of them know, which caused her to be in such a terrible condition.

Everything was crumbling.

They were a tight knit group, always there for each other but when did it turn into a nightmare, Jessy didn't know. Emotion overtook her and she suddenly collapsed against the wall, keeping a hand on her mouth to muffle her sobs, and cried.

She cried for Hannah, who she had no idea whether she was alive or not. She cried for Syianne, who had become such a great friend to her. Most importantly, she cried for her relationship with everyone, that was slowly but surely, withering away.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

Jake had been pacing in his hotel room ever since getting back, waiting on a word from Jessy. Glitch watched him with big eyes, as he stubbed his on the bedside and cursed. Sighing in defeat, Jake realised that it won't do any good to worry himself to death, but that didn't mean that his mind didn't drift off to the earlier scene.

Syianne lying on the ground. Blood pooled around her.

He shook his head in frustration, trying to get that image out of his head but to no success. Glitch, sensing that something was wrong, strolled towards him, rubbing and purring against his legs. Jake softened at seeing his efforts to calm him and he picked Glitch up, moving to lay down on the bed. He petted him, smiling at the way the cat burrowed himself further against Jake, curling his tail around his wrist.

After a few peaceful moments of cuddling, Jake's phone lit up with a text, which had him scrambling to grab it from the bedside. Glitch meowed in protest but Jake was too wound up to notice.

Jessy [10:25 pm]

She's in a coma

They don't know when she'll wake up

Jake felt all breath leave him as he read Jessy's text. He didn't know what to think, what to do, what he could do. Jessy didn't give him a chance to respond.

Jessy [10:26 pm]

Don't contact any of us ever again

I don't want to find Hannah this way…which leads to everyone else getting hurt

Please leave Syianne out of this

Saying her mind, Jessy went offline again. Jake took a shaky breath, trying to ground himself. Syianne might never make up.

No, he told himself.

He couldn't think like that. He knew she'd wake up, it might take a little time but she will. Because if she didn't, Jake wouldn't be able to live with himself.

He got another text from Lilly, saying she was sorry that it happened but he couldn't bring himself to write back. His mind was empty, body numb to everything around him and he was cursing himself for being so careless.

If he hadn't been so selfish, if only he didn't put all of this on her, if he had just reached on time, if, if, if.

That's all he thought of, as tears continuously trailed down his cheeks, an arm covering his eyes, the only thing on his mind being Syianne, just as it had been ever since he started talking to her.

⊱⋅ ──────────── ⋅⊰

The next day, Jake found himself holding a large flower bouquet and walking to Duskwood hospital's reception. He was trembling, scared out of his mind but he just had to see Syianne. So, he had braved his anxiety and was now standing in front of the receptionist, who looked at the abnormally large bouquet in his hands and raised an eyebrow. He cleared his throat.

"I'm here to see Syianne King, she was admitted here yesterday."

The receptionist's gaze sharpened as she looked him over and he partially hid behind the flowers.

"Only family members are allowed to visit," she spoke slowly and Jake bit his lip in frustration.

"I'm her fiance," he said and before the surprised receptionist could say anything, he continued, "I drove here as soon as I got the call but they wouldn't tell me what happened. Only that Syianne had been in an accident and I needed to get here as soon as I could and I—" he cut himself off, shuffling nervously and wiping away the tears that had managed to escape from his eyes.

The receptionist softened, seeing his genuine sorrow and care for his fiance and warmed her voice.

"Of course, I'm sorry for what happened. She's in room 309, third floor. The elevator is down the hall," she pointed and Jake thanked her profusely before walking ahead.

Him being Syianne's fiance might have been fake but everything he had felt was the truth and he felt overwhelmed now that he was here. Should he see her? Did he even deserve to see her after he put her in danger? Thoughts like this plagued his mind all the way to Syianne's room and they only stopped when he saw '309' written in bold letters on a grey coloured door.

His breath stuttered in his chest. He was second guessing his presence in the hospital, thinking whether he shouldn't have come. He stood in front of the door for about ten minutes, contemplating but when the nurses started giving him suspicious looks, he swallowed thickly and with shaky hands, opened the door.

Nothing could have prepared him for the utter despair and helplessness he felt, as he saw Syianne's motionless form on the bed, breathing as if she was just sleeping and would wake up any minute. But he knew that wasn't the truth.

She was here and it was his fault.

For the longest time, he just sat on a chair beside her bed and just looked at her. His eyes traced every injury, every bruise that was visible and he felt sick, blaming himself for letting it happen. She was still sleeping and suddenly, it just got too much.

There was too much light, too much beeping, the walls were too white, the flowers in his hands digging into his skin and he got up hastily, dropping the bouquet and backed into the furthest corner of the room.

His breath was coming in short bursts, it hurt to breath, to think, to stay upright—!

His legs gave from under him and he slid down, back against the wall, shaking hands coming up to wipe the wetness on his face.

He didn't even realise he had been crying.

His vision was a blur of dark shapes and in a distinct corner of his head that was still sane, he thought of what Syianne would have done had she been awake. He was sure she would kneel down in front of him and take his hands, running her thumbs against the back of his hands to calm him.

'Breathe slowly, Jake. Deep breaths with me, come on,' he heard her in his head and tried to slow down, breathing harshly at first but after a few minutes, his vision cleared and his breathing stabled to an acceptable rate.

His whole body shook with the sheer suddenness of the panic attack and he slowly tried to get up, holding onto the wall as a support as his gaze, once again, landed on the bed and it's occupant.

All at once, his head cleared and he knew what to do.

Snatching a sheet of paper from the notepad lying near her chart, Jake penned his thoughts, all his anguish, and his apologies on it. Not once did his hand shake as he wrote the note and not once did his mind waver from the decision he had made. At last, when he had said everything he wanted to, he put the pen down and glanced at Syianne's peaceful face.

His throat closed up but he swallowed once to make sure he didn't cry. No, Jake had no time for tears. It was his fault that this happened in the first place, so it was his responsibility that he would make it right.

He didn't know when she would wake but whenever it might be, Jake had everything he wanted to say, already written for her.

He bent down towards her and placed the softest of kisses against her forehead, knowing that it would be the only time he would ever get to do it.

She did not open her eyes and Jake stepped back with a miniscule tilt of his lips.

Yes, he would make everything right.

#duskwood #duskwood jake #everbyte duskwood #duskwood game #everbyte #jake × mc #duskwood jake × mc #jake × player #duskwood fanfic #duskwood fanfiction #duskwood jake × mc fanfic #viotence tw #physical attack tw #coma tw #blood tw #panic attack tw #please read the warnings carefully!!#and i hope you enjoy it ❤️

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moons-and-stars-and-shit · 3 years

Note

Hiya love!! CONGRATULATIONS ON ALL YOUR FOLLWERS BBYYYY!! 🥳🥳🥳 IM SO PROUD OF YOU!! I HAVENT BEEN FOLLOWING YOU FOR THAT LONG BUT I CANT WAIT TO SEE YOU GROW. You deserve it all and more.

If it's still open, is it okay if I get a kinnie coldbrew please? And thank you in advance.

I'm really introverted and hate social interactions and meeting new people, even online

And I hate going outside in public

I just dont know how to make friends or even talk to people without panicking

I see the people around me having online friends and I'm sat there like how??? I just about have irl friends

It takes me a long long time to get used to people and even start thinking about opening up to them

All of my friends are people I've knows for a good 6/7 years, I hate being introduced to new people

I hate havinh big groups of friends as well

Usually whenever my friends go out I tend to avoid it, but when I do I'm usually at the back walking by myself

I just withdraw myself when in big groups and just become invisible

But in small groups of like 3 people or just me with someone else I thrive

My friends think they know me really well, but it's one of them ones where I mask my true emotions and feelings with waffle

It's not that I dont trust them, I just dont want to share my feelings with anyone or talk about myself, usually I just make jokes

I grew up in an environment where I was taught not to cry and not to be emotional, and my mother was very insistent on that, and it just became natural to me. I cant even remember the last time I cried, it was definitely a good 2/3 years ago

I have a lot of patience when it comes to anger, like I dont let it out, sometimes I get really really angry at the littlest things people do, but then it dies down in like 3 seconds. I dont know how to explain it, but it's like a hot flash and then it goes, other times it builds slowly and I just let it fester

But I hate confrontation

Absolutely hate it

I would never actually do anything with the anger or hurt I feel, i just let it sit inside of me and hold it in

People do come to me for advice and help, I wont sugarcoat anything, I'll tell you the honest (and sometimes harsh) truth and then help you get overcome your problem as well

Because of that I can sometimes come across as harsh because i wont bullshit you or beat around the bush if you need me to talk to you like that

I do the absolute most for my friends, I'd drop anything for them if they need help and I often find myself putting their happiness before my own, and lowkey (highkey) it hurts when I dont receive the same energy back, but it's ok we move

I'm usually the one doing all the work in a group presentation, mainly because no one else is bothered to do it, so I just do it all

I do all the work, they present

I dont know how to show the people around me that I love them, even though I really really do

I hate it when people touch me or try to give me hugs and I avoid them

But secretly I yearn for them and I just want someone to cuddle me

But I'm not used to physical affection at all and it really embarrasses me

It's a bit of a sticky one ngl

For me, it's so important to be polite and open minded

I think that's why people come to me for advice and shit, because I suck at comforting people, but I wont judge you at all also because I'm quite approachable as well

Unless you're a trump supporter, then I will roast the living shit out of you

I'm really into literature and reading, whether it be classics, manga, graphic novels, or just normal fiction

I just love reading

And doing anything creative tbh

I read percy jackson when I was young and it basically formed my entire personality

That's where my love for mythology started and over the years its become more refined and I just love it even more

I like to think I'm a nice person

I always try and make people smile and laugh and know that they're loved and acknowledged by me

In stressful situations I find myself being really calm

To the point it looks like I dont care

And I'll tell you that I dont care as well

But on the inside I'm panicking and its eating me up on the inside

I either do one of two things and they're both polar opposites

I either try and resolve it as soon as possible or I ignore it for as long as I can and leave it for future me to handle

It's not very healthy but I'm still here so, I guess it's fine

I dont find myself getting stressed FOR myself that often, if you get what I'm saying

Usually when i feel emotions it's for other people??? Like I'd be stressed for someone else, sad for someone else and angry for someone else, but I'd never really feel something for myself

Yeahh I usually stay calm and nonchalant though

Ahhhh, this is soo longgg, I'm so sorry about that, I just started venting halfway through and forgot that this was an ask. I'm so sorry and I hope you dont mind. Thank you so so much though, I appreciate it a lot. Make sure you're taking regular breaks and drinking lots and lots of water, make sure you're taking care of yourself. Thank you so much xxx 🥰🥰

THANK YOU THANK YOU ❤️

@tsukkispoundlandheadphones

You are a...

Sakusa Kinnie

Similarities

Alright stating the obvious

YOU BOTH HATE PEOPLE TOUCHING YOU

Although it might be for different reasons

That doesn’t change the fact that you both low key hate people

You both hate social interactions

Whether it be online or in person

Being social is just a no go for you two

Your only friends are people who you’ve known for a long time

Cmon

Sakusa’s friend is LITERALLY his cousin

Like FAMILY

You both are very slow to anger

Cant relate

Like when have we EVER seen sakusa get mad at someone

Disgusted with someone sure

But MAD I don’t think so

Blunt bitches

You both are blunt af

You both just tell it as it is

I mean someone has to do it

Ok this is hard to explain cause there’s no evidence behind it...

But he responds to stressful situations JUST like you

Don’t question it to much

It’s just true

Assumptions I Have About You

I’m sorry but your hot

No buts about it

Speaking of

Here 👐 takes some self confidence

You deserve it I promise

LonerTM

How’s being a homebody?

You let people take the lead in most situations

EVEN THOUGH YOU HAVE THE CAPABILITY TO BE A LEADER

Rbf?

Ok we know you don’t like people touching you

But you absolutely HATE strangers touching you

You either genuinely enjoy cleaning

Or you stress clean

Ilysm never change the world needs more sakusas ❤️

200 Follower Event

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu fandom #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu headcanons #sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa kin #sakusa kinnie #sakusa Hc #sakusa headcanons

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hearteyes-for-killmonger · 4 years

Text

1. Withdrawal

I was born an angel of lust, raised in the heat of passion. I cannot adapt to the whims of mortals anymore than you can adapt to me.

That's what I tell the plain and bitter bitches who hatefully judge my personal expression. I am an artíste. Would a swan so readily change herself to belong amongst toads? Certainly not.

The name given to me at birth was Phoebe Avery Flynn Miller, but you can call me Gemini.

xoxo

I study Biochemistry at Stanford, yes, the Ivy League.

Despite the 5% rate of acceptance, little ol' me has wiggled herself in with the big wigs and is now on path to a promising career in forensics.

Relaxed dress code, they said.

It's true, the culture of campus aesthetics is rooted in khaki shorts and ratty flipflops. Still, despite the sea of tie-dye, I can't help but notice that the way I present myself on campus is heavily judged.

But why hate on little me?

Well. It's my clear and supple toffee brown skin. It must be.

Or it's my dipped strawberry ombre wig curled to bounce like jello.

How offensive.

Or no, it's my deep and winding curves. Yes, the jealousy is unreal.

It's not my fault these hips navigate this yellow romper like a country backroad.

It's not my fault half the girls here are built like skinny little boys and the others are built like Frosty the Snowman.

Passing Becky in category one as I walk through the hall, she turns to glare. Who are these sad hoes truly mad at, me or their genetics?

The bold who find their words try their hardest to tear me down.

Slut.

Whore.

Stripper.

Bitch.

And let's not forget the ethnic slurs, I hear it all. But can you guess my response?

"At least I'll graduate with a job and no debt, ya pasty bitch. Ask your man for my business card."

Yep.

It's true, I strip at Mickey's to pay my tuition, okay fine. I've seen several students there peppered in the crowd, a few possibly the boyfriends of some of these Becca faced bitches who come for me on the regular. Again, who are they really mad at?

Yes, I sell fetish content and I work as a domme when I'm not interning because I'm organized and damn good at everything I do. So good and organized in fact that I can drink, smoke, fuck all day and night if I please and still look like a slice of heavenly pie in the morning bright and early in my seat for class.

I'm wonderful. I'm free in who I am, I'm not ashamed.

That's what I preach to my clients. You can't be ashamed. Revel in sensuality of it's who you are. Intelligence, success, and kink are not mutually exclusive.

Unfortunately for my clients, exams are nigh and I've had to pause all sessions including my stripping for the sake of my study schedule. Two weeks is what I've gifted myself and four days through.. it does not feel like a gift.

In four days, I've perfected the art of celibacy. Not a drop of alcohol has touched these luscious, full lips.

No dollop of cum has passed over this skin.

No ocean spray has squirted from this peach.

I've taken no finger, no dick, no strap, no toy.

I've smoked no joint, no bowl.

For 96 hours, I've done nothing but study and prepare as if going to war. I'm hungry for a release, but my A means more.

xoxo

I sit in the first row in class, front and center with my laptop open on the syllabus because I fear nothing.

Call on me, I dare, staring down the professor as he poses his question to the class. Nothing he asks can throw me off.

I fold my arms leaning back and he finally looks to me.

I know I've said this a million times this semester, but I'd fuck the shit out of him for free. Mm, focus.

I cross my leg at the knee for some control.

"tRNA."

"Correct, Ms. Miller."

Of course it is.

"Someone tell me what is the linkage between the amino acid and the tRNA in an aminoacyl tRNA? This will be on the exam which is not multiple choice."

The class upsets, voicing their dissent with complaints that it's too hard. They need multiple choice.

"Aminoacyl ester," I smile cutting off a voice behind me.

"Correct Ms. Miller," Mr. Stevens points, aiming his pen at me as he backs toward the table at the center of the floor to sit on its corner.

"Too easy, what else you got?"

I can feel the pissed off vibes behind me and I show teeth, smiling more. Fuck these assorted crackers. I flip my strawberry curls and stare at Mr. Stevens in wait.

His eyes narrow, but I'm not dumb he's loving this. I am black excellence.

"The genetic code is not read in the...?"

"3' to 5'," you blurt. His brows raise briefly.

"The genetic code is degenerate meaning that..?"

"Most amino acids are coded for by more than one codon."

The corner of his lips turns up and he begins to fire off questions like lightning, but I fire back instantly. You can hear a pin drop the way the room gets quiet.

"Codons representing the same amino acid or chemically similar amino acids tend to be similar in sequence often differing-"

"In the third base? Third base degeneracy."

"Class I synthetases first attach the amino acid to the what on ribose whereas class II attach them to the what?"

"2'-hydroxyl and 3'-hydroxyl."

"The Salmonella test strain used in the Ames test contains a mutation in the histidine biosynthetic pathway, which is used to...?"

"Identify compounds that induce back mutations to permit bacterial growth on histidine free plates."

"What's needed to repair chemical damage in DNA effecting more than one nucleotide, such as cyclobutane pyrimidine dimers?"

"Base-excision repair."

"Wrong."

"Wait!"

"Nucleotide-excision repair," a voice says from the back."

Fuck.

Someone snickers.

"Correct," Mr. Stevens points to the back making no further eye contact with me as he goes into review.

The whole time I'm sitting there, I'm wondering how the hell I messed that up. That was a dumb mistake and I don't make dumb mistakes. I can't get by it, I'm lowkey embarrassed.

At the end of class, students file out of the door.

I stand behind a blonde preppy girl who's asking about a quiz grade. She's trying to debate point loss and based on what I gather, she's wrong. Her answers were wrong. What can he do outside of give her a grade she didn't earn?

"I can't change your grade, Ms. Bertelli," he deadpans from his seat on the edge of the table. His hands are rested comfortably on his thigh.

"I'm not saying change my grade! I'm saying the way you worded these questions made me come to a wrong answer and I would have gotten 100 otherwise, so I should at least get a half point for each," she explains angrily jamming her finger at the paper as she holds it in his face. "It's only right."

Mr. Stevens is unmoved and you can see it in his eyes, the melanated 'bitch please.'

"It does not get anymore clear and if you don't get a handle on this information, Ms. Bertelli, you won't pass this class."

"This is fucking stupid! I'm going to the dean," she threatens.

"Girl, gone somewhere," I laugh. The entitlement!

"Do that. Your responses were incorrect and I suggest you learn this material before this exam. Use this time to take advantage of our reviews," Mr. Stevens says cooly.

"Anyways," I step forward for my turn. "I need an A in this class. A strong A. You and I both know I'm earning it," I dig watching the girl leave the room so it's just the professor and I. "But I'm nervous about this exam."

"A or no A I'm sure you'll get the strongest grade in my class," he mumbles seeming uninterested in anything I say.

"But see, that's not good enough."

"It will be," he stares. "I've seen students as cocky as you. Some make perfect scores, but that's rare, Ms. Miller. I see it happen more often that they... choke," he pantomimes with his hands at his neck like it's a joke.

"Mr. Stevens.. There are two things I don't play bout, my money and my grades. Please be serious with me."

"Serious... Okay. You want me to be serious."

"I do."

For seconds, we stare at each other, him looking at me and me trying to drive into him by eye contact alone how damn serious I am.

"Hm... Let's talk about it.. seriously," he says quietly. "We'll go over a few things related to the.. format.. of this exam."

He doesn't need to say more, I get it. He's giving me the test.

"Meet me in my office today at 7."

With that, he hops up and in a lithe motion, towers over me before walking by to grab his things. I clutch my imaginary pearls watching his back as he moves. My peach is acting up and I don't blame her after four days of denial. She's hungry. I need to get her away from this temptation.

xoxo

#original #erik killmonger #killmonger #erik killmonger x oc

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emmaspirate · 7 years

Note

If you could take a stab at some Joe &a Barry fic that would be amazing. I love their relationship and I'll never tire of watching or reading them together (paternal not romantic hahaha)

sorry this took 8 years to get to you and i lowkey don’t know what this is but I kinda just went for it so sorry if it sucks… also lololol thank you for specifying paternal. this contains light west-allen so if that’s not your jam i apologize just imagine whoever else you want. this also wasn’t beta’d so sorry for spelling errors :)

Barry Allen was not supposed to live with them.

Not permanently anyways. Joe West wasn’t entirely sure what possessed him to bring the small, sniffling boy back to his house in the first place. He’d known the Allens for some time, but their strongest connection was the fact that Barry and Iris were best friends. Maybe that was what made him do it; he knew it was what his daughter would want. Whatever the reason, when the foster worker had come to take Barry from his house and the boy had seemingly instinctively looked at him, eyes as wide as saucers, Joe had blurted “that won’t be necessary.”

His initial plan was just to look after him until a more permanent foster family could be found. He dreaded the thought of Barry being put in a group home. Maybe he also felt some sort of loyalty to Nora Allen, who he just did not believe was killed by her husband in spite of the evidence.

That was his initial plan, anyways, but Joe West knew that the best way to make God laugh was to tell him your plans.

None of the foster families were right, and Joe was determined to find the best. Some couples seemed downright negligent, others just gave him weird vibes. He probably should’ve sensed what was going on when he turned down a couple for smiling too much. Miraculously he remained as aloof as ever even as Barry slowly integrated himself into their lives. Iris was thrilled that she finally had someone to hang out with in the house besides her dad, and he didn’t miss the besotted looks Barry shot his daughter. For his part, Joe found that he quite liked having another man around the house, and while he never let himself say the word “son” out loud he’d caught himself thinking it a few times.

Still, it would take his loud-mouthed Aunt Edith to finally open his eyes.

Aunt Edith was from a different generation. At least that’s what Joe always had to remind himself of whenever she spoke. She was a conservative woman. The kind of woman who insisted he remarry about four months after Francine left because Iris needed a mother figure. That conversation had been the last one he’d had with her. Quite frankly, he wasn’t expecting to run into her at the West family barbecue, but she was a member of the West family so it couldn’t be helped.

“Joseph,” she acknowledged with a bow of her head.

Joe nodded, hoping she’d leave. “Aunt Edith.”

“I have been informed that you have taken in the Allen boy.”

His eyes flickered over to the table where Barry and Iris were sitting and digging into a serving of Grandma Esther’s mac and cheese. A small smile formed as he replied, “Yes I have.”

Aunt Edith made a disapproving clucking noise. “I hope that situation is only temporary.”

Joe started. “What is that supposed to mean?”

The older woman looked at him as though it should be obvious. “Well, for starters he just does not belong in this sort of environment, he does not belong in this family.”

Joe didn’t know what she had meant with that comment, but he had a few guesses.

She kept barreling on, clearly not realizing her nephew’s growing anger. “And secondly, do you really want your name attached to the Allen’s? Given what that man did to his wife I would think-”

Joe cut her off then, having heard more than enough. HIs voice came out harsh but he made sure to lower it so no one, namely Barry, would overhear. “Henry Allen did not murder his wife, and even if he had Barry had nothing to do with any of that.”

“You best watch your tone!” It was clear she was trying to come off as an authority figure, but she was also evidently not used to being talked to like that.

Joe laughed, a bitter sound. “I’m a grown ass man I can use whatever tone I want. You best not talk about things that you know nothing about. Barry is a member of our family. He’s living with us permanently.”

“You can’t be serious?!” She sputtered.

Joe got right up in her face, relishing in the moment. “As a heart attack.”

She scurried off then and Joe imagined that if she had a tail it would be tucked between her legs. He expected to regret what he’d said because of course he couldn’t keep Barry. Yet the more he thought about it, the more he felt that there was absolutely no other option. Barry living with them was the right thing, the natural thing, at this point.

Joe had wanted the best for Barry.

He’d found it.

The first time Barry had referred to Joe as his father had not been under the circumstances either had been expecting.

Joe never pushed it, not feeling that it was his place. He constantly called Barry his son, and had even heard Barry refer to himself as such to others. Still, Barry never called Joe “dad” and the older man could understand why. The boy probably saw it as a betrayal to Henry, who was still serving his sentence at Iron Heights. Joe never wanted to pressure Barry into anything and it really didn’t bother him all that much, so he never thought much of it.

There had been a few near slip-ups though.

It often happened when they were rushing around, almost like it was instinctual. Joe would be handing him his lunch or teasing him and Barry would let out a “Thanks, Dad!” or “Stop, Dad!” He’d always stop himself before he could finish the word though, so it came out more of “Daaaa-J-Joe! Thanks, Joe! Thanks so much, Joe!” Then the kid would do something stupid like salute him or run into the door frame all the while turning beet red.

So that’s the way it went, and Joe didn’t mind.

At least he didn’t think he did.

Joe and Iris were currently waiting for Barry in the high school auditorium. He’d just finished giving a presentation on some chemistry thing that had gone right over both Iris and Joe’s heads. That’s probably why Barry hadn’t wanted either of them to come. In fact, Joe wouldn’t have even known it was going to happen unless Iris had spilled the beans. Barry had seemed surprised she’d even known. When she’d told him that “of course she knew, it was important to him,” he’d looked at her like he was hopelessly in love and Joe wondered if he could be more obvious.

So here they were, surrounded by kids who were probably smarter than him and a bunch of posters that said things he could barely read let alone comprehend. He was just about to suggest that maybe they wait for Barry outside, feeling a touch out of place, when his son’s grinning face came into view.

“Guys! Thanks for coming!” Barry engulfed Joe in a bone-crushing hug and then moved to Iris. It was always amusing to watch the two of them embrace. She was so much shorter, and Barry had barely figured out how to control his long limbs.

“Yeah, of course! We understood none of it, but I stayed awake the whole time,” Iris replied in a chipper voice. Joe could see some of the boys, most decked out in glasses and Star Trek t-shirts, eyeing his daughter.

Barry laughed. “Well it means a lot to me that you two were here.” Barry’s eyes moved to look behind them. “Speaking of, Joe there’s someone I want to introduce you to.” Barry didn’t wait before raising his hand and flagging someone down.

Joe turned to see a man a few years older than him approaching them. It was very evident that the guy was a teacher of some sort, and, judging by the lab coat, a science teacher.

“An excellent presentation, Mr. Allen,” the man compliment when he reached them.

Barry gave him a megawatt smile, and Joe was glad he’d splurged for braces for his kids. “Thank you, Dr. Lee. This is Iris West,” he said, gesturing to the woman standing at his side.

Iris stuck her hand out. “Hi Dr. Lee. I was in your General Chemistry class last year.”

Dr. Lee nodded in recognition. “Ah yes, Miss West! The one who would always fall asleep in class.”

Iris was unfazed despite Barry’s blush and Joe’s disapproving glare. “It was an early class!”

“And you somehow still finished with an A,” Dr. Lee chuckled.

“Yeah, well, I had an excellent tutor,” she replied as she hip-checked Barry, which only made him blush more.

Joe had no doubt that was part of the reason that Iris had finished with such a high grade. He distinctly remembered Barry staying up until 5 in the morning helping Iris study the night before her Chem final. That boy had always been powerless to deny her anything. Still, Iris’ brain could not be underestimated. She had the ability to retain anything, which meant she was absolutely impossible to argue with. He remembered one time when she…

He was so distracted by his current train of thought that he nearly missed Barry saying, “And this is my dad, Joe.”

Joe did his best to remain nonchalant. To keep his expression neutral. He really didn’t want to make this a big deal for fear that Barry would never again call him that. It wouldn’t do to get misty-eyed or choked up or anything stupid. He’d said it so casually too, like it was a regular thing. Like he always called him dad. Like it was second nature.

So he couldn’t quite help it when his “nice to meet you,” came out a little bit strained. If anyone noticed, they didn’t say anything. Joe reached out to shake Dr. Lee’s hand and the man eagerly accepted.

“You should be very proud,” Dr. Lee said, nothing but sincerity in his voice. “Your son has a very bright future.”

Joe turned to look at Barry who was giving him a sheepish grin like he was asking if it was okay that he said that. He couldn’t help but nod slightly as he said, “He does.”

Barry was as transparent as a piece of paper.

Joe was doing his best to pretend like he didn’t know exactly why Barry had asked him to meet at the house and insisted it just be the two of them. He was doing his best to not pay attention to Barry fumbling over his words and knocking over beers all through dinner. He was doing his best to appear confused when Barry told him he needed to talk to him about something serious.

“What’s up, Bear?” He asked, maybe overplaying it a bit.

Barry’s knee was bouncing up and down so aggressively he was shaking the table. “I, um, it’s about Iris?”

Joe cocked his head. “Was that a question or are you telling me?”

“Telling you. I’m telling you. I wanted to talk to you about Iris, um, specifically, Iris and me.” Barry took a quick sip of his beer, steeling himself.

He almost felt bad for the kid. Joe was almost certain Barry was about to give himself an ulcer trying to get the words out. There was a small part of him, however, that wanted Barry to suffer just a little bit. “What about you and Iris?”

Barry sighed and scratched the back of his neck. “She and I, all of us, we’ve been through a lot these past few months. That led me to make some, uh, questionable decisions, namely my proposal.”

“Ah.”

The younger man winced. “Yeah. I’m going to regret the way that went down for the rest of my life, but I’ll never regret doing it.” Barry leaned forward, nerves seeming to dissipate momentarily. “I want to marry Iris, Joe. I want to marry her more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life. I want to do it right this time. I should’ve asked you the first time and I’m sorry that I didn’t.” He was beginning to babble now and Joe almost cut him off because he knew his answer, but curiosity stopped him. “I’m asking now though. Not for permission, because she’s more than capable of making that decision herself and she’d kick both our asses for doubting that. I guess I just wanted to know if you think that I’m, um, if I’m worthy. Worthy of her? Worthy of joining your family?”

Of all the things he could’ve said, Joe would’ve never expected that. “Barry you are family.”

Barry ran a hand through his hair in agitation, a habit he’d picked up as a teen. “I know that. You, Wally, and Iris have always been my family, you always will be. I don’t know, this just feels different. If Iris marries me, she’ll become an Allen, but I’ll also become a West. That’s not a small task, Joe. I mean look at Iris! She’s a force of nature. She’s smart, and kind, and brave, and beautiful, and she leaves me breathless every single day. She changed my life. Iris may just be generous enough to let me stand beside her for the rest of our lives, but I’m not sure I deserve to.”

The two men stared at each other in silence for a long time. Joe knew that Barry often looked to him for advice, but Iris had always been a tricky subject. He was a father to them both, but truth be told their relationship often gave him a headache. He’d never met two people better suited for one another, nor two people with more obstacles in their way.

Joe couldn’t quite imagine the toll Savitar was taking on them. His attention had, understandably, been on Iris, but he knew that Barry felt intense, almost crippling, guilt about the situation. The psychological toll of having to not only watch the woman you love die multiple times, but also know a version of you was the one killing her was unimaginable.

Still, Joe hadn’t quite realized that there was even a possibility that Barry would doubt his own worthiness. He kind of assumed that those days were behind them. Imagining Iris’ reaction did bring a small smile to his face because he was nearly certain it would involve lots of yelling and expletives.

He knew Barry was looking to him for an answer and so with a smile still on his face he asked, “Do you remember that time Tony Woodward made fun of Iris’ braids and she cried?”

Barry was clearly confused, but went along with it anyway. “Yeah, I don’t think I’d ever been that angry before.”

“Do you remember what you did.”

“I gave him a piece of my mind,” Barry laughed.

“Do you remember what he did.”

Barry laughed again. “He beat the shit out of me.”

Joe smiled and nodded. “He beat the shit out of you. When I got the call from the principal of Carmichael Elementary telling me one of my kids had gotten in trouble for fighting I assumed he meant Iris. Imagine my surprise when it was you sitting outside of the his office with a bloody nose.”

“I’ve never been so hardcore,” Barry interrupted.

“Sure, that’s one way to put it.” Joe let his expression shift into a more somber one. “I asked you why you did it, and you looked up at me, about as serious as a kid your age could look, and told me that Iris didn’t need you to protect her, but that you always would try.”

Barry seemed to draw inward then as though he were remembering being that small and only wanting to keep Iris safe. “That’s still true,” he said softly.

Joe placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “And that’s why nothing would make me happier than if you were to ask her to marry you. You make her happy, Barry, and you adore her for the person that she is. You always have. That’s all any father wants for their baby girl. You may not always be able to protect her, but as long as you try to, as long you love her more than life itself, my answer will always be yes.”

He could remember the day Iris was born so clearly.

It had been an ordinary Tuesday, almost boring in its mundaneness. Francine had complained of heartburn the night before, but that had been the only warning they’d gotten that their lives were going to change. She’d been such a small baby, but she’d had quite the pair of lungs on her. He’d been convinced that the sound of her screaming was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. That had lost its magic a few days in, but the way she smiled up at him had not.

There was no feeling like becoming a father for the first time.

Coincidentally there was also no feeling like becoming a grandfather for the first time.

The baby was early, but that didn’t really surprise him because Iris had always been an overachiever. Barry had sounded so nervous when he’d called Joe to let him know that it was time. Part of it was undoubtedly the fear that comes with realizing you’re about to become a parent, but Joe also knew that Barry was worried because the baby was a speedster.

They’d all found out about two months into the pregnancy when Iris had received a fairly nasty cut on her head in a fight with a meta. Barry had come racing into Star Labs demanding to know if she and the baby were okay. That was also how Team Flash had found out the couple were expecting, and Joe had been a little miffed. Iris had been doing her best to quell his anger when they’d all realized that her head wound had miraculously healed. Caitlin had run a few tests and discovered that baby West-Allen was a speedster.

Iris’ pregnancy had progressed relatively normally from there, but Barry had been extra vigilant following the news. Perhaps overly so. Joe was actually grateful the baby had made its appearance when it had, because he was quite certain Iris was close to killing her husband.

Joe knew that any tension between the pair was gone as soon as he entered the Star Labs medbay. Barry was hunched over Iris, who was sitting up in bed staring at the bundle in her arms. When he came further into the room, his daughter’s eyes flickered up to him.

“Hi, Grandpa,” she whispered, sounding exhausted.

Joe swallowed the lump in his throat. “PawPaw.”

Iris’ brow furrowed. “What?”

Barry interrupted, but his eyes never left his newborn. “Joe’s grandkids are going to call him PawPaw.”

Joe pointed at Barry as he made his way over to the bed. “See? He knows.”

“Well PawPaw, would you like to hold your grandson?” Iris shifted her arms so that she was now holding her son out to her father.

Joe laughed in amazement. “It’s a boy?” He’d personally thought it silly that the two had elected not to know the sex. It had been Iris’ idea and even though Joe sensed Barry wanted to know, he still could not deny her anything.

“It’s a boy.” Iris confirmed as she placed the infant in Joe’s hands. “This is Joseph Bartholomew West-Allen, which I’m now realizing is kind of a mouthful.”

Joe looked at Iris almost reflexively when he heard his grandson’s name. She had a knowing smirk on her face, one eyebrow cocked slightly higher than the other. Joe vaguely recalled a time when Iris had told him not to bank on her naming her kids after him because she thought children should be their own person or something like that. The longer he stared at her, her smile growing, the more he realized that this hadn’t been her doing.

Barry had named his son after Joe.

One look at the new father’s face, and Joe’s suspicions were confirmed. Barry had tears in his eyes that were quickly beginning to spill over as he gave Joe a watery smile. The two men moved to wordlessly embrace, both of them angling themselves so they didn’t crush the new addition.

If you’d asked him all those years ago what would become of little Barry Allen, he probably couldn’t have answered. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever imagine this was where they would all end up. It was the last thing he would have expected, but the journey was the greatest he’d ever been on, and this honor the greatest he’d ever receive.

From behind him, Joe heard Iris sigh. “God, can you two pull it together? Neither of you just gave birth.”

Joe and Barry laughed.

#hope you liked #i honestly have no idea what this is #just a bunch of little moments?#joe west #barry allen #west family #westallen #the flash #the flash fic #writing prompts #my writing #writing #flashfic

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