#the details would be specific enough you could find the store if you knew what state i live in which i think ive pretty opening talked about | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pastanest · 8 months

Text

Spencer Reid x she/her!reader

A/N: inspired by this post by @shy-taylorsversion !! hope you like it sweet! ♡

warnings: references to Maeve but nothing too specific

I Can See You

It was as though fate herself was playing the cruellest joke in human history, the day you joined the team. Spencer’s heart was beyond scarred, it had been locked away under every wall he knew how to craft within himself, for his own safety. And yet, with no more than a glance, you began to disarm him.

The team spotted the sparks almost before Spencer did, in the way they acknowledged that he reached to shake your head in greeting; a gesture he typically avoided at all cost. It was the wide eyes from his chosen family that made Spencer realize his body had acted on its own accord, without any consideration for his mind, or heart.

“Doctor Spencer Reid, uh, pleasure to meet you.” He had cleared his throat in his attempts to hold your gaze, a task he had not anticipated to be anywhere near as challenging as it turned out to be.

And the way you had smiled at him? That was the first splinter, in the very first wall that surrounded Spencer’s heart.

It was not drastic enough for Spencer to notice right away, and by the time that he did, it was too late. Anyone would think your moves to be calculated, but the worst part of it was that Spencer could see that your actions and words were completely without ulterior motive.

It is simply who you are, much to a genius’s absolute dismay.

Naturally, Spencer tried to deduce exactly what this immediate connection was on the very first meeting. He sat at his desk with a concentrated frown, and within 15 seconds, he had formed a hypothesis: it was a basic biological attraction, something found in primal creatures, not civilised beings, and certainly not ones with three PhD’s, but if he had to admit that he had animalistic desires on occasion, that was favored over this meaning anything more. With a satisfied nod, he rose from his desk and tried his very best to continue with his day.

He had ventured down the hall of the BAU office, with the intention of retrieving some files he needed to work on, and he was determined to not even remotely acknowledge that you were walking down the very same hallway, in the opposite direction. He did not notice your hair, or your eyes, or the way you walked, the softness found in your smile, and his eidetic memory had definitely not stored each and every detail.

Aaron Hotchner was giving you a tour of the office, Spencer surmised; he absolutely did not strain his every thought to tuning into the conversation in an effort to learn more about the wonder that was you. The width of the hallway allowed for you and Spencer to pass each other without any contact whatsoever, but when your gaze lifted to catch his, neither of you made any effort to increase the distance between you. Instead, you had smiled at him - again, his heart skipped a beat as it reminded him - and the two of you walked, neither one hearing Hotch’s continuing tour of the office as you neared each other. Then your sleeve brushed his. The contact was gone as quickly as it had arrived, but Spencer knew he had goosebumps beneath his suit jacket, and he couldn’t help wondering when he looked over his shoulder to find you doing the same, your eyes locking once again; did you feel it, too?

Only once safely behind the front door of his own apartment, could Spencer Reid regain the ability to think straight. It was foolish, he told himself. A workplace romance? He shook his head as he shrugged off his suit jacket, his gaze lingering momentarily on the sleeve you had brushed against. There was no substance to it, Spencer’s objective brain enforced, need you be reminded of the statistics surrounding workplace entanglements? It was simply the proximity; he had never worked with someone he found so physically attractive before, that was all this was. His mind just needed to adjust to your presence. His eyes were just latching onto the most attractive sight they could find, after forcibly reliving the loss of the love of his life. This was not love, Spencer concluded, it felt nothing like what he had felt for Maeve. The physical weight of the anxiety and stress he had experienced, the secrecy, the pain; all of that was missing, and that was what Spencer understood love to be.

This was foolish, he reminded himself. As of tomorrow, he would put a stop to this, whatever this was.

Spencer walked into the BAU office with newfound purpose the following morning, prepared to focus on his work and nothing else, which would not be a difficult task. Not in the slightest. He was a professional, after all, and you-

“Good morning, Spencer!”

You were already sitting at your desk, and you were smiling at him - the very same smile that Spencer had noticed you had not given anyone else on your first day.

And, like a fool, Doctor Spencer Reid’s eidetic memory jettisoned his previously formed plan of nipping whatever this was in the bud, and instead, he smiled right back at you.

It would be fair to say that he has been a lost cause ever since. His mind has crafted a permanent residence for you, where thoughts of you swirl at a constant rate, and he has allowed such a heinous development; shocking, really. The worst part? Spencer has managed to maintain professionalism, because everything between you is mostly unsaid. It is longing glances, lingering smiles, subtle touches that nobody else would notice; save for the team of profilers that you both happen to work with everyday. You have found your footing within said team and formed fast friends, almost like you had always been part of said team, but you were still such a new and pleasant sight to Spencer each and everyday. You had not seen him through any emotional turmoil, you saw him as he was from when you knew him, and you liked what you saw, in the same way that he liked what he saw in you. There was a mutual understanding, a reciprocated tension that you were equally, acutely aware of.

By now, Spencer knows that when he says something particularly clever, he need only glance at you from the corner of his eye to find you already looking at him with stars in your eyes. By now, you are accustomed to trying to beat Spencer into the office each and every morning, because whoever arrives first will prepare the other’s choice of beverage for the morning, which will be left on their desk in time for the other’s arrival, without a word, but with a complete understanding. By now, the rest of the team are used to sharing eyerolls and exasperated sighs as they watch you and Spencer dance around each other in such a ridiculous, but still undeniably sweet way.

You are something new to Spencer. He doesn’t have to overthink about your safety outside of dangerous cases, he doesn’t have to worry about where he stands with you, because one look is enough to reassure him. Whatever this is, it is something different. It brings about a relief to the stress of the job; the same peace a hot bath would provide, Spencer finds in every smile you give him.

But, at its core, this is unsaid. The layers to it are secret, even with what the team are able to infer from what they can see.

While his brain is focussed on the case at hand, that same little space in Spencer’s mind is alive with thoughts of you. Today, he has been tasked with working the geographical profile with Blake, who is obviously very aware of what is forming between you and Spencer, but elects to say very little about it, given how sensitive the topic could be to Spencer’s still raw heart. That said, she can’t help noticing or smiling at the way Spencer’s gaze continually drifts to the door of the small office within the local police department that they have been working all day, as though willing you to walk through it.

“I’m sure the interviews are going well.” Blake chooses her words carefully, referring to what you have been tasked with, rather than you directly, in an effort to perhaps allow Spencer to open up, just a little.

He frowns at this, trying to convey confusion as he refocusses his gaze on the maps in front of him, running his fingers over them.

“(Y/N) is very good. Knowing her, she’ll come in here in a few minutes saying ‘don’t worry, guys, case closed, we can all go home because there’s a rerun of Doctor Who that I can’t miss’.” Blake tries again, this time using a joke referencing a shared interest of yours and Spencer’s, which pulls the desired smile from him, though he doesn’t lift his eyes from the maps.

A moment of silence passes, in which Spencer considers his own words with equal care, before he decides to respond to what he feels is the most important section of Blake’s last sentence.

“She is…very good.”

Feeling somewhat reassured by Blake’s words in a strange way, in her validating the obvious chemistry between you and Spencer, he finds it easier to continue to working. Of course, he still glances at the door out of habit, wishing for no more than a glimpse of you walking past it, if that’s all he’s allowed for now, but he is focussed on his work. He is a professional, after all.

That is, until his ears - finely tuned to deciphering your voice even in a sea of others - pick up on a distressed tone from you. While the wall between you prevents him from being able to piece together any words, the discomfort he can hear is enough to bring Spencer up from his seat.

“I need to update Hotch on some details of the geographical profile that could assist with the interviews he’s conducting.” Spencer blurts out hurriedly, picking up a random case file without looking at it before rushing out of the room, once again not mentioning you by name, but making his intentions crystal clear to Blake.

She doesn’t question anything, but there’s a knowing smile on her face.

Spencer is out of the door in an instant, his eyes locking onto you a few feet down the hallway, seemingly caught in an uncomfortable exchange with a local police officer. The way your arms are crossed over your chest is enough for Spencer to understand exactly what is going on, and when your gaze gravitates to him, he sees you visibly relax, a soft smile spreading across your face. The local cop continues his attempts at sweet talking you, until he sees your expression and follows your gaze, seeing Spencer stood down the hall with a case file in hand and a frown that could challenge Aaron Hotchner’s. Clearing his throat awkwardly, the local police officer skulks off, and you breathe a sigh of relief, walking over to Spencer and smiling up at him.

“Find anything?” You ask him, gesturing to the case file in his hands, which is now crumpled in his almost white knuckles.

“What? Oh, no, I just- you sounded uncomfortable.” Spencer babbles, his mind shifting from a possessive fury that he’s never previously held for anyone, before settling into a peace that only the subject of that possessive streak can bring.

“I was. Thank you for saving the day, as always.” You smile up at him, and with a rush of confidence, you make a gesture of standing on your tiptoes to kiss Spencer’s cheek as you pass him, and his brain short-circuits.

It takes a whole three seconds for Spencer to regain his 187 IQ points, at which time he looks over his shoulder to find you at the other end of the hallway, mirroring his action with a beaming grin. He stays still - mainly because his brain has not recovered enough for him to trust his ability to walk - but his mind conjures up a beautiful daydream of him strolling right up to you, pushing you up against the wall and kissing you until both of you collapse from lack of oxygen. His hands holding your face, your hands in his hair, his body pressed against yours, holding you up against the wall as your knees attempt to buckle under the weight of what would be the most passionate kiss in human history, Spencer is more than certain of that.

“Are you coming, pretty boy?” You call out to him, abruptly forcing him back into the present.

An interesting choice of words, considering.

“Where?” Spencer asks you, in turn, a smile playing on his lips.

“Lunch!” You state, like it’s obvious.

Spencer glances at his watch, bemused. “It’s 3pm!”

You shrug, but your smile is widening as the amusement grows. “Yep, and I haven’t had lunch, so, you coming?”

Spencer rolls his eyes and refrains from giving you yet another lecture on remembering to take a scheduled lunch break to ensure you have the amount of energy required for maximum efficiency while on the job - which is, obviously, his way of reminding you to eat regularly because he cares about you, not because he cares about your ‘maximum efficiency on the job’.

He quickly pokes his head through the door to the little office, tossing the crumpled case file back on the table where he had previously been sitting.

“Just going to get lunch.” Spencer tells Blake, and she raises an eyebrow.

“Lunch? At 3pm?” She questions, much like he had, and that only makes him smile again.

It isn’t just a smile, though. It’s a bright, wide grin that takes up Spencer’s whole face, making the corners of his eyes crease, and then he disappears without a word, because his expression is explanation enough.

As silly, and as common as it is, after having lunch with you, Spencer’s smile is unwavering for the rest of the day. Yours is too, resulting in both of you receiving teasing remarks from the members of the team that you have been working with, away from each other in the hours that have passed since.

By the time Spencer shuts himself in his own hotel room for the night, his mind is fried, and as a consequence, he cannot withhold thoughts of you to that one corner of his brain. Instead, he sees you standing in the middle of his hotel room, walking up him with a smirk he’s seen time and time again in his dreams. He feels your palms on his chest through his shirt, loosening his tie as his lips ghost yours. His shoulders rolling as you help him take off his suit jacket, discarding it on the floor before his lips fall on yours. And he can see you waiting for him on his hotel room bed, as though you were really there, and had already been there a thousand other times, on a hundred other nights. Oh, how he wishes.

Shaking his head, Spencer forces himself back into the present, into the newly depressing sight of his otherwise empty hotel room. He removes his suit jacket with a bitter expression, knowing you would do it so much better, but alas.

Realizing there is absolutely no way he can sleep in this state, Spencer rolls up the long sleeves of his button-up shirt, kicks his shoes off, and settles in the armchair in the corner of his hotel room. He retrieves his favorite copy of ‘War And Peace’ and decides to reread it to unwind. Just a bit of light reading.

That is, until approximately 10 minutes - and just under halfway through the book - later, when there is an unexpected knock at the door.

Deciding to place ‘War And Peace’ on the physical bedside table and mental backburner, Spencer rises from the armchair and crosses the threshold of his hotel room. The moment he opens the door, his heart leaps right out of his chest.

There you are, in your pajamas, hugging your laptop close to your chest with a smile that Spencer wholeheartedly believes could persuade any man to do anything and everything for you.

“‘The Impossible Planet’ and ‘The Satan Pit’ were rerunning tonight, and we haven’t finished the case in time to watch them, so…” You lift your laptop in a wordless gesture, stars shining in your eyes, and Spencer Reid has to seriously consider whether this is a dream.

His perfect girl, arriving at his door because she wants to watch Doctor Who with him? Surely, fate jests.

“You are an impossible girl.” Is all Spencer can manage to say, a smirk on his face when he sees the recognition in your eyes at his own Doctor Who reference.

“Ooh, you can’t say things like that to a girl, Doctor!” You giggle, knowing you’ve got him right back with a reference of your own.

With that, Spencer invites you into his hotel room, and just like so many times before, you fall asleep with your head on his chest as the end credits roll on your laptop screen, an ever encouraging score from Murray Gold being the soundtrack to Spencer’s longing glance down at you as he brushes your hair away from your face. With a kiss to your forehead and one arm holding you in place, he turns off your laptop and sets it down beside the bed, his other arm wrapping around you to hold you to him in a gesture of affection that was foreign to him before you, but is now second nature.

Spencer never understood what it was to fall asleep with a smile on his face, until he started falling in love with you.

By the time the team is boarding the jet home, you are all beyond exhausted, but relieved in equal measure. Another case closed, another life saved, and another trip home. As opposed to the typical night flights you tend to catch, Penelope managed to secure the jet in time for everyone to be on their way home by midday. So, instead of a silent jet occupied by sleeping FBI agents, Hotch is living vicariously through Rossi and Derek’s latest tales of seduction, you are gossipping with JJ, and at the other end of the jet, perfectly in your line of sight, Spencer is sitting with Blake, unable to resist glancing over at you every so often.

Blake has that same knowing smile on her face, picking up on more than the rest of the team has, given the almost maternal bond she has formed with Spencer, and she decides that this time, she’s going to speak less carefully.

“Spencer, what is the statistical likelihood of history repeating itself?” She asks pointedly, but quietly.

Spencer frowns. “Well, that depends on a number of variables. Technically, it would be impossible to provide an exact statistic, because there are an infinite number of possibilities at every point in every sequence of events that there can ever be, but for history to repeat itself in a direct pattern, it would be incredibly unlikely. Why do you ask?” He rambles, very much enjoying this question, this challenge to his analytical mind.

“Have you ever asked a girl out before?” Blake answers Spencer’s own question with a question, something she has previously reprimanded him for.

And Blake’s question is enough to freeze a genius in his tracks.

He doesn’t have to think about it, he knows the answer, but his confusion and shock makes that one word difficult.

“No.” Spencer says after a moment’s pause.

“Then, to reduce your own anxieties surrounding history repeating itself, why don’t you change that and create an entirely new chain of events for yourself?” Blake suggests, giving him a small, encouraging smile.

As always, she knows exactly what advice he needs to hear. Blake is right, if Spencer does ask you out, what’s unfolding between you and him will truly be unlike anything he has ever experienced before, meaning it cannot possibly end in the same way, the same tragedy cannot befall him if he takes the path he has been so afraid of treading.

“How?” Spencer asks, his voice barely above a whisper, because he’s vulnerable now. He needs help from a friend, a friend he trusts with a situation that is as precious to him as this.

Grateful that he’s taking her advice on board instead of dismissing it, Blake nods, leaning forward in her seat on the jet.

“Do whatever feels right to you, because it’s you, exactly as you are, that (Y/N) smiles at like that.” Blake says simply, sitting back in her seat and watching as Spencer’s gaze flickers to you again, knowing from the look in his eyes that he’s just received that very smile from you, and that is the only encouragement he needs.

Nodding to himself, Spencer stands up and rushes to the jet kitchen, walking past you and brushing your sleeve with his as he does.

From where you sit with JJ, you can’t help glancing over your shoulder at Spencer, curious as to what he’s doing in the jet kitchen and why he’s trying so very hard to hide whatever it is that he is doing.

No more than a few seconds later, Spencer walks past you again, returning to his own seat at the other end of the jet, but not without very discreetly dropping a small, folded piece of paper into your lap. With a smirk, JJ turns away to look out of the jet window, granting you some privacy as you unfold the piece of paper, your hands trembling ever so slightly as you scan over the page, and Spencer’s own shaky handwriting.

“Meet me tonight?”

Grinning, you lift your eyes from the note and to its sender, who is already staring at you with a mixture of hope and anticipation in varying shades of hazel. From across the jet, you nod at him, and he nods back at you, biting back a disbelieving chuckle as he looks down at his lap shyly, avoiding your eyes.

You want to ask when, where, and how he wants to meet you tonight, but the excitement within the unknown is even better. For the rest of the flight home, you and Spencer exchange expressions of yearning that exceed even your usual standards, and it’s very clear that whatever this is, it’s about to come to a head.

When the jet lands back in Quantico, the team rise from their seats and stretch their limbs, retrieving their overnight bags and heading for the door. You and Spencer fall back in a silent understanding, and he wraps his large hand around yours to take your bag and swing it over his shoulder, giving you one of his signature charming smiles and ridding you of every coherent thought you’ve ever had in the process. With his hand free once again, his fingertips graze yours as you step out of the jet and head back into the office, sparks flying to such a severity, Spencer considers alerting the pilot of a problem with the jet engine.

Much to your mutual dismay, the team is tasked with case reports the second they set foot into the office again, given it is not officially the end of a working day and there is no better time to complete a report than when the case is still fresh in your mind; not everyone has an eidetic memory. And so, your equally yearning glances continue, this time from across the office, as the hours tick by and the anticipation between you grows.

As the hours tick by, Spencer grows restless. He checks his watch, and debates with himself as to whether 6pm can be considered ‘tonight’, before he decides he no longer cares for such technicalities. With his legs bouncing beneath his desk, he quickly writes out another note, then picks up a case report and practically flies over to your desk, dropping the piece of paper on your keyboard before walking out of the glass doors and round the corner, down a hallway that takes him - begrudgingly - out of your sight.

Confused and excited once again, you open the scrunched up note and scream internally.

“Please follow me in 10 seconds and bring your case report - doesn’t matter if it’s finished.”

You stare up at the clock on the office wall, counting the slowest ten seconds of your life, and then the gravity of Spencer pulls you from your desk to fulfill your secret mission. Clutching your incomplete case report to your chest, you try to walk past your coworkers desks as casually as you can, but you can’t help feeling that the room of profilers that surround you are acutely aware of every little tell. You wouldn’t be surprised if they can hear the irregularity in your heartbeat right now.

With trembling hands, you reach for the handle of the glass door and push through it, rounding the corner and immediately freezing on the spot. Halfway down the hallway, Spencer leans against the wall, his case report hanging from his hand loosely at his side, his other hand in a tense fist in front of him as he frowns down at his watch.

As though sensing you, Spencer’s head turns, and when he sees you, he sighs deeply.

“12.5 seconds. I thought you might not be coming.” He says quietly, his words soft and his relief palpable.

An interesting choice of words, considering.

“Sorry, I tried to walk slowly, didn’t want to give anything away.” You explain, your voice as quiet as Spencer’s had been, the distance between you already closing on its own accord.

He shakes his head, but his eyes never leave yours. “No need to apologize. I’m certain they’ll know something’s going on, even with our efforts.”

You can’t help chuckling at that, nodding up at him as he walks closer and begins to tower over you, all words suddenly losing their meaning. In what can only be described as a silent, instinctual mating dance between two equally besotted creatures, with each step Spencer takes towards you, you take a step backwards until your back gently hits the wall, your gazes locked in an indescribable heat, lost in a tension that cannot be defined in any kind of eloquence.

Case report still hanging loosely between Spencer’s index finger and thumb, he closes the space between you until there are only centimeters separating your face and his. With each inhale, you taste each other, smell each other, feel each other closer than ever before, and the primal attraction that Spencer had been foolish enough to believe he was too rigidly sophisticated to ever experience slaps him in the face with a rather rude awakening, but it is a welcome one. His curls touch the skin of your forehead, and you bite your lip in an effort to restrain yourself, but when Spencer’s free hand moves between your bodies to uncurl one of your hands from its fierce grip on the incomplete case report you clutch to your chest, to place your palm flat against his shirt, over his heart, you forget your own name.

“You know, researchers from the University of Chicago analyzed people’s eye movements as they viewed black and white photos of both couples and attractive strangers to judge whether the people they saw were eliciting feelings of sexual desire or romantic love, and the results revealed an interesting pattern; when the subjects judged a stranger as depicting feelings or romantic love, their eyes stayed fixed on the stranger’s face. However, when the subjects felt the photo was exuding sexual desire, their eyes strayed over the rest of the stranger’s body. The co-author of the research said that by identifying eye patterns that are specific to love-related stimuli, the study may contribute to the development of a biomarker that differentiates feelings of romantic love versus sexual desire, and an eye-tracking model may offer a new avenue of diagnosis for routine clinical exams in psychiatry and/or couple therapy.” Spencer rambles, bringing an enamored smile from you that makes his heart sing. You are always so interested in every single thing he has to say; where others roll their eyes and cut him off, you listen, and you adore him for exactly who he is.

“The reason that I’m telling you this,” Spencer continues, “-is because scientists found that the subject’s judgment can occur in just half a second, suggesting the way we categorize whether we feel lust or love for new people is innately automated.” He wets his lips with his tongue.

“Is this your sciencey way of telling me that, despite it typically being perceived as illogical, you believe in love at first sight? That’s quite controversial for a man who is so often analytically inclined.” You muse thoughtfully, your smile unwavering as you look up at him.

“I didn’t. Not until three months, four days, 9 hours, 12 minutes and-” Spencer checks his watch before meeting your eyes again, “-27 seconds ago.”

You cannot believe Spencer is daring to ask your brain to perform what is nothing short of a miracle in the form of basic mathematics when his lips are almost touching yours.

“You mean…when I…” You can barely form words.

“At the exact moment when you walked into the office on your first day, yes.” Spencer nods, his forehead brushing yours.

The palm that is still pressed to Spencer’s chest through his shirt moves to feel his tie, as though holding onto something for support while the Earth beneath your feet shifts and he is the only thing keeping you here; which, in fairness, he very well might be.

Quite suddenly, the tension between you is suffocating, having long surpassed boiling point, and your breaths are as shallow as his.

The case report held between Spencer’s index finger and thumb is hanging by a metaphorical thread, his other hand lifting to tuck some of your hair behind your ear, his fingertips caressing your cheek as he drinks you in.

“Can I kiss you, (Y/N)?” He whispers, the boldest words he has ever spoken.

“Yes.” You breathe, without missing a beat, and Spencer does not waste another second.

In one swift motion, the case report falls to the floor, both of his hands coming to cup your face as his lips take yours, your hands holding his to keep him there. Spencer’s body presses into you, acting on a primal instinct that goes beyond his understanding, kissing you like a man starved of physical affection all his life, and there’s far more truth in that than he cares to admit. When one of your hands reaches for his messy curls, Spencer sighs into the kiss, lowering his hands to grab at your waist, squeezing your hips gently. The kiss is its own infinity lived and shared, the two of you only parting for air, but your bodies remaining intertwined, the sound of your heavy breaths echoing down the hallway until you’re both laughing, your foreheads pressed together and an insurmountable love in your eyes.

What this is, is different. You don’t know every detail of Spencer’s past or pain, in the same way that he is yet to know yours, but you have every intention to learn about each other, with this as your foundation. This, without the physical weight of anxiety and stress, with a different kind of secrecy, and free of pain; this is a mutual understanding, a reciprocated attraction beyond what Spencer thought was possible for someone like him. You are different, different to him, different to every person he has ever known, and he has no doubt that he is much the same when compared to the people in your life, too.

You are different, you are new. You are a breath of fresh air that he will never grow tired of breathing.

And he will always, always see you, in every conceivable way that you’ll allow him to.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #imagine #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #headcannon #headcannons #Spotify

810 notes · View notes

theamberwriter · 11 months

Text

The Perfect Blend

Modern!Alpha!Levi Ackerman x Omega!GN!Reader || Tea Shop AU

Word count: 6.3k

So this is the first fic I’ve written in a while, and I cannot remember the last time I actually watched AoT. But my thirst for Levi can never be tamed. I hope this does him some justice. Also, I’m on my iPad. So the formatting may be a little weird.

Companion Art: [1] [2]

☕️📚

The Stem and Spine was the shiney new bookstore/tea shop opening on the corner on Prescott and Main. It seemed like ages since anyone had tried opening a store there. It was such a quaint spot. The historical building had detailed moldings, uneven red bricks, and chipped, dark blue paint. Six large, angled windows gave a panoramic view out to the bustling streets in your little college town.

It was the perfect spot to stop, drink tea, and people watch.

You were looking forward to opening day. You’d spent months crawling through every bookshop, online and in person, as well as every thrift shop trying to find one specific book. No one seemed to know of it’s existence. So you were silently begging the universe to cut you a break and let this new bookshop carry what you were looking for.

You’d only recently discovered their grand opening. An awkward omega gave you a flier. They were handing them out as people were leaving the grocery store. You were really excited, but maybe that was your inner bookworm talking.

Since the shop was right down the road, you decided to walk there on opening morning. You weren’t really expecting any sort of crowd. All of the college kids had gone home for the summer, so the streets had emptied out some. You enjoyed how quiet the summers were. So the long, winding line leading from the door of Stem and Spine was definitely a surprise.

You didn’t need to look for the book that badly. You could come in a month or so when things had died down some. You were going to head back home when you heard the people by you talking:

“I heard the guy running this place is hot as fuck,” said one.

“Did you hear what that girl in our study group said?” asked the other. The first shook their head. “Apparently his scent is like, super strong.”

The friend grinned, running their tongue over their teeth. “I can‘t wait to find out.”

Oh no, you mentally groaned then took a nice deep breath. The scents came one right after the other. A mangled mash up of pheromones. This line was almost entirely betas and omegas. And they were here for that alpha. You were never going to be able to shop there at this rate! As an omega yourself, you just knew they all would come from miles around until this guy was claimed.

You decided it was better to queue up, then maybe you’d actually get a chance to set foot inside. You waited for hours. You were sure those ahead of you would linger as long as possible and try to make an impression. That meant everyone had to stand in line longer.

By the time employees came down the line and told people they were closing for the night, your feet were killing you and your phone battery was nearly dead. All day and you’d only gotten a quarter of the way to the door! You could still see the spot you’d started from. A few people tried to get rowdy, complaining it was unfair that they’d been waiting all day. But their steam fizzled when employees threatened to call the police.

For two weeks, you checked the line for Stem and Spine. Day after day the line seemed to get longer. You saw a lot of returning faces, they must’ve been desperate. You even saw a handful of people getting escorted out by police! You also heard more and more rumors about what everyone was lining up for.

I heard he’s one of those hot, stoic types. I’d love to break him.

I heard that if you’re a beta or omega, just the guy’s scent is enough to make you jizz in your pants.

I heard he doesn’t like needy omegas, good thing I’m not like the others.

I heard he’s starting an entire harem - I’d love to be a part of that!

This is my eighth time going. I swear, I’m on the verge of making him my mate!

The rumors went on and on, getting more and more absurd. You wondered what this guy was really like, if he was really worth all of this. You weren’t interested, you just wanted a book! If anything, this was annoying. You figured it was probably annoying for him too, especially if he just wanted to do his job and not have to worry about anyone throwing themselves at him.

Finally, on a Sunday afternoon, you were able to set foot in Stem and Spine. It was quiet. No three block long line in sight. Sure, it was still busy but these people actually wanted books. They were all glued to the shelves, actually talking about books, and showing each other covers.

Inside was better than you’d imagined it. Everything was cream, gold, crimson, and navy blue. In one half was the tea shop. There were shelves of tea and accessories that lined the walls; loose leaf, prepackaged, diffusers, tea pots, honey sticks, spoon rests. As well as a long barista counter that had a large chalkboard and sizable drink list that was nothing but tea. There were a small handful of metal tables and chairs, and you remembered seeing some outside with umbrellas as well.

The other half of the store was the bookshop. There was row after row of books. Mostly fiction from your first glance. There were also displays for local authors and a shelf of new arrivals. You couldn’t wait to spend the day combing through. The entire vibe was cozy and the scent of jasmine wafting around was relaxing. You did wonder, however, how you were able to get in. Had the alpha been claimed? You didn’t smell anything overwhelming.

“Aaawwww, what do you mean he’s not here?!” You heard a girl whine. You were just starting on the second row of books.

“Mr. Ackerman isn’t here,” said the employee, irritation clear in their voice. “And no, I don’t know if he’ll be back today.”

The girl groaned loudly, but you didn’t hear her complain anymore. You figured she must’ve left. You wondered if she was the one who’d managed multiple visits.

“This has really gotten out of hand,” you heard the employee down the aisle say. They’d been stocking more books. “Great for sales, though.”

“That bad?” you asked. The employee looked at you, she looked tired. Her name tag read Mikasa.

“You have no idea,” she sighed. “I like working here. Levi is my cousin and a great boss, but these fangirls have just been too much. You’d think the fact that he ignores them would be a turn off. But they just keep coming.”

You didn’t realize you’d spent your whole afternoon in Stem and Spine until Mikasa came around to give you a five minute heads up. You were disappointed you didn’t find what you were looking for. But you still managed to find a couple hidden gems you were excited about. Maybe what you wanted was just too obscure.

You brought your books to the counter. As they rang you up, you noticed a clip board with a paper that read What Books Would You Like to See at Stem and Spine? Under that was a long list of handwritten titles and author names. You quickly scribbled down the book you were looking for. At least now there was a chance for it to appear.

Over the next month, you managed two visits to Stem and Spine every week. You and the employees actually started to recognize each other. You also started to see titles you recognized from the list. The mysterious Mr. Ackerman, however, still managed to escape your sight. Every time you went, there was a small posse outside just trying to grab a whiff.

It wasn’t until your first visit of the following month that you finally laid eyes on him. You’d just finished a series and were looking to start a new one. So you wandered over to the new arrivals section. You’d been there about half an hour when a heavy wave of lavender hit you. It filled your head, murking up your thoughts. You figured this had to be him, and the rumors were true - his scent was another beast entirely.

You shook your head to focus your thoughts. You liked this store, so this was something you were going to have to get used to if you wanted to keep shopping there. But you were also extremely concerned - if he was here, then that long line and hoard of omegas and betas would be too. You wanted to leave, but you were stuck between two books with money only for one.

You probably should’ve noticed the scent getting stronger. But you were so focused on reviewing the synopsis on both and thumbing through that you were oblivious. You didn’t wake from your stupor until there was a flutter of movement beside you. You glanced to your left to see a dark haired man in a white collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He set down the few boxes he was carrying.

This man, you realized, was where the lavender wall had come from. This was the infamous Levi Ackerman, owner of Stem and Spine. Mikasa had told you a bit about him in previous weeks. You liked talking to her whenever you came in.

“It’s rude to stare,” he said in a surprising tenor. His back was still to you. You cursed under your breath and turned back to the shelf. That was one way to embarrass yourself. You began musing between the books in your hands again.

After a long moment of silence, a voice said, “I’d pick the one in your right hand.”

You looked over to meet a bored pair of silver eyes. “What?”

“I’ve read them both. The book in your right hand was far more interesting.”

“Oh cool,” you said slowly. “Thanks. I would’ve been here for ages.”

You quickly placed the other one back in its place and scuttled away. You were just going to have to take his word for it. You didn’t want to hover anymore than you had. At the front, they packaged up your book and you were swiftly out the door.

Levi had been right, the book was very good and you were excited that there were four more books to follow with a movie planned. The next time you tried to go to Stem and Spine it was packed again. There was a line down the block and you just didn’t have the time to wait. Your shift at work started soon, and all you’d wanted to do was thank him for the recommendation.

You decided to head straight to work instead. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long to see the bookstore owner again. The wall of lavender hit you before you saw him. You watched everyone around you turn to stare. It didn’t seem to phase him in the least.

Levi came to the counter and briefly talked with your coworker, who couldn’t seem to keep a straight face. When they disappeared to look for someone, Levi waited at the counter. This was probably going to be weird, but you really did want to thank him for helping you find a new series you absolutely loved.

“Hey,” you started, the book in your hand. He glanced at you briefly. “I, uh. You probably don’t remember me, but you recommended this book to me last week. And I, uh, I just wanted to say thank you. It was really good.”

“I told you it was better,” he stated. “I remember the other one you had - the author writes shit. It doesn’t have any good character development and there were a few glaring plot holes.”

“Oh, that’s good to know - I’ll definitely take that off my reading list.” You laughed awkwardly, carefully tucking the book away in your bag. “I was, uh, I was going to stop by the shop earlier. See if you were there - so I could thank you. But that line was just - woo!”

“I’m going to have to do something about that.” You weren’t sure if that was directed at you, but Levi seemed lost in thought.

Your coworker soon came back with someone in tow. They talked for a minute and then Levi and his intoxicating scent were gone. Afterwards, your coworker could not shut up about him. There was no way you were going to tell them about the bookshop.

In the days that followed, the line to get into the shop shrunk. But there was a continuous crowd that flurried around. A few employees you recognized seemed to be doing crowd control.

“I don’t care that you want to see him,” said one. “You don’t actually want a book or tea! It’s clogging up the shop.”

So Levi was doing something about the outrageous line. You were looking forward to being able to shop there again. The employees inside seemed less stressed when you went in and, at least, you weren’t brushing shoulders with anyone.

“Hey, [Name]!” Mikasa called as she spied you. She waved from her spot at the book counter where she was talking with Levi. You waved back at her, accidentally met Levi’s eyes, and then shuffled off into the book aisle to grab the next installment of the series.

You paid for your book, then went over to the tea shop. You didn’t know much about tea, but you figured you might as well start trying the different blends. There was a small display set up that recommended different teas for certain books. Like a nice citrusy Lady Grey to go with Pride and Prejudice.

“I don’t think that tea pairs with your book.”

You knew that voice. You turned to find Levi there with you, hovering, observing as you skimmed through the tea bags. You looked down at the pouch of English Breakfast Tea in your hand.

“You don’t think so?”

“You’ll want a black currant tea.” Levi reached just above your head and pulled down a paper bag with a raven on it. “I’m partial to this one.”

You took the bag, turning it over in your hand. You put the original pouch you grabbed back. Awkwardly, you smiled at him. “Uh, thanks. Guess I’ll go pay for this then.”

You weren’t sure what to make of it, it was probably nothing. But this encounter left you with a strange feeling. There were a few more like that to follow too.

“You’ll want a different tea for that,” he said as you picked up the third book.

“I can’t just make the black currant one?” you asked, baffled.

“Each book has a flavor that it pairs with. This one is more of a mint. If you pick wrong, you'll ruin the whole damn experience.” Levi turned the full power of his eyes on you. You were frozen under them. “Just like each person has their scent. Each scent has something that pairs nicely with it. For example, mine is lavender, yours is more of a sage. The two go well together.”

“Oh,” was all you could manage. That was the first time you felt the little flutter in your chest.

Every time you went to Stem and Spine to purchase a book Levi was there over your shoulder. He’d direct you to whichever tea he felt best went with it. He even started talking about the nuances in the flavors. How the aromatics helped, which shape of tea bag was optimal, ideally how long to steep it for. You became very knowledgeable about tea in the following visits. You were sure you'd be an expert by the time you went to pick up the last book in the series he showed you. But nowhere near as knowledgeable as Levi.

The next time you went, you saw Mikasa at the counter speaking with Levi.

"You can have the days off. Just fill out the request form," Levi said as you walked up to them.

"You're going on vacation soon, Mikasa?" you asked.

She turned her eyes to you. "My mate is going into his rut soon. I always make sure to take those days off to help him with his nest or anything else he needs."

You smiled at her. "That's really thoughtful, Mikasa. I hope, if I find someone, that they're like you."

She raised an eyebrow. "You don't have a mate?"

"No." You shook your head and shrugged.

You could've sworn you caught Mikasa giving Levi a nudge and a sharp look. Levi gave her a brief glare back. Then his eyes turned to you, his gaze relaxed.

"Why?" he asked.

You laughed humorlessly. "No one's ever really stuck around or I broke up with them. One guy tried to get me to sell my book collection. He said that they were just a waste of time and money. So I decided that he was a waste of my time. There's nothing worse than someone who doesn't understand your hobbies."

Levi said nothing but hummed in response.

"Do you have a mate out there in this big wide world, Levi?" you asked.

"No," he spat curtly.

You didn't mean to gape, but you couldn't deny you were shocked. "Really?"

"What?"

"I'm just surprised, ya know? With your strong scent and how handsome you are... I just figured by now someone would have come along. That's all."

Levi looked away from you. "My scent is more trouble than it's worth. All it does is draw shitty little brats."

You chuckled. "I can see that, considering the long line the first month you guys were open. I also noticed the growing wall of banned people. – Well I just came in to grab something really fast before work. My shift starts soon."

The college students were starting back up for the autumn semester. The streets began to fill up with cars of fresh faces, new dreams, and overstuffed suitcases. You had a feeling there'd be a new influx of people at Stem and Spine.

The hunch was correct.

Before you knew it, the store was once again filled wall to wall with people seeking Levi's attention. He seemed increasingly agitated every time you saw him. Then he once again disappeared for a few weeks, causing the crowds to thin.

“I heard the author is writing the final installment,” Mikasa said as she rang you up. “It’s supposed to be out in a few months.”

“Really? I thought this was the last book?” You raised an eyebrow. You weren’t upset, just surprised. The story felt like it could easily be wrapped up in one book. You hoped it wasn’t going to be one of those strangling the plot lines scenarios, where the whole series goes down in flames right at the end.

“Nope, one more.” Mikasa shook her head. “I’m sure Levi will be upset.”

“Does he really like this series?”

“No.”

You met her with a curious gaze. Her eyes gave you nothing in return. You’d never really noticed how similar she and Levi looked until then. Both with silky black hair and unwavering grey eyes.

"I don't smell him around today. I take it he's still in hiding? I guess I'm on my own to find a tea, then," you laughed.

Mikasa handed you your bag, it was brown paper with a dark red book and tea leaf stamped onto it. You had a small collection you kept folded under your sink and used for various things.

"Hey, before you go," Mikasa started. "I'd like to consider us friends."

You nodded and smiled at her. "I'd like to think so."

"So then would you like to hang out when I'm not working? I was thinking about going to see the movie for this, it comes out soon. Would you like to go? I'll buy the tickets."

"That'd be awesome! I can pay you back."

Mikasa laughed, then waved her hand dismissively. "It's no issue, don't worry about it. Give me your number, and we can pick a date."

You exchanged numbers then wandered over to the teashop. You were only a little upset to be tea shopping alone. You were so used to having company. You wondered what type of tea Levi would recommend. You had to admit, you were starting to look forward to your shopping visits more knowing he was there. You were happier to see him than Mikasa most days. You were grateful for your newly formed friendship, so it made you feel a bit guilty. But you couldn’t deny that there was something soothing about listening to Levi’s passion for tea.

You thumbed through the pages of the book. Skimming without trying to spoil anything for yourself. You were just trying to get the feel. What flavor would this book be? Something dark and fruity, like a black currant? Or something a little lighter, more classic like the mint? You settled on an orange bergamot, this would have to work. You paid and then walked over to your job.

About half way through your shift, a familiar tsunami of lavender smacked you in the face. Levi strode casually through the lobby looking bored as ever. He had a bag in his hand. You wondered if he’d been out shopping. You met his gaze, immediately diverting your own back to your paperwork.

“Mikasa said you were in the shop today,” he said, the scent rolling off of him was strange and heavy.

You looked up, getting sucked into those silver pools. “Yeah, I came to get the next book in the series. I figured you were still keeping your distance. - Did you need my help with something? Did you need John again?”

“I wanted to make sure you didn’t pick a shitty tea.”

You scrutinized his face. It held absolutely nothing. He really came all this way to ask what tea you picked? Well, it was just the next street over. But he still had to go out of his way to see you. He didn’t have to do that. Your heart fluttered.

“I skimmed through, but I’m not sure I picked the right one.” You handed over the bag of tea you bought.

Levi rolled his eyes. “Tech, don’t spoil it for yourself, idiot.”

He took the bag, examining it thoroughly. He considered the ingredients for a long moment. You could practically see the cogs turning in his mind. Finally Levi handed it back over to you.

“Interesting choice,” he started. “But it works. I’m impressed.”

“Thanks, I really tried to put your lessons into practice,” you laughed. There was a long stretch of silence. “I suppose you’re probably going back to Stem and Spine, I won’t keep you any longer. But I appreciate you stopping by, I didn’t think you remembered that I worked here.”

Levi stood a moment longer, then placed the bag he’d been carrying on the counter. It was from his store. “I brought this in case you picked wrong. - I’d still like you to have it.”

You stood. “No, I couldn’t -”

“I insist.”

“At least let me lay you for it. Or exchange it for the one I bought!”

Levi was already walking away. “Just take the fucking thing. I picked it out for you.”

Then Levi was gone, but his lavender scent still swam in your head. You took the bag from the counter, peering in to inspect its contents. You were so curious what he picked. You pulled out a white bag of loose leaf tea with a rose stamped on it in pink. The name read The Start of Something Sweet, it was made with strawberries and rose. You couldn’t help but smile a bit to yourself.

Later that night you made yourself a cup using what you remembered of Levi’s impromptu tea lessons. You couldn’t keep the little smile off your face. Not even as you talked with Mikasa about your movie plans. You picked a date two Saturdays away. You were really excited, you could only hope that the movie did any sort of justice.

A few days later, you made another trip to Levi’s store. It was restock day. As usual, you beelined for the new arrivals section. You were disheartened to find your requested book had still not made an appearance. You groaned. Maybe they couldn’t find a distributor either. That’d be just your luck.

“Looking for anything in particular?” Mikasa asked, stopping beside you. “You look disappointed.”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I’ve been on the hunt for this one book and no one has it. I’ve checked everywhere! I even put it on your recommendations list when you first opened. It’s just getting annoying at this point.”

“Maybe I can track it down for you and get you a rush order?”

You smiled at her gratefully. “You’d do that for me?”

Mikasa shrugged. “It’s no problem. I don’t see why not. What’s Levi going to do? Fire me?”

“Sweet, thank you so much! I’ll text you what I’m looking for.”

“Hey, I’m actually about to go on break. Do you want to go get something to eat with me? You have off today, right?”

You agreed and hovered by the counter while Mikasa grabbed her things from the back. You chatted idly with a few of the other employees. They were complaining about how busy it’s been since school was back in session. You hadn’t been surprised, of course. They did build the town around the university after all.

Once the scent of lavender began wafting in, everyone became tense. You noticed something was off. It was sharper and so sweet it was almost bitter and very dense and heavy. Levi stalked in, looking irritated. He gave a sharp glare to his employees, but didn’t say anything. Instead marching through the door that said employees only on it.

“Something must’ve happened,” said one of the employees you were talking to. “He was in a good mood this morning.”

You wanted to go after him. In fact, your feet even began to pull in his direction on their own. But you stopped yourself, embarrassed. Tea aside - you didn’t know him all that well, after all. The last thing he’d probably wanted was a random omega tailing after him.

You had a thought, a reflection of something he told you - a book and a good cup of tea always made his mood better. He told you in passing, he probably didn’t even remember saying it. You knew you’d seen your favorite book somewhere in the store. With any luck, it was one he hadn’t read. You swept through the shelves, quickly finding it, then went to find a matching tea. You’d already had one in mind. Mikasa emerged just as the cashier was packing it all up for you. You had them wrap it in brown paper.

“Did you find something after all?” she asked.

You felt warm. Did it get hot all the sudden? You looked guiltily at the items in your hands.

“Actually,” you started awkwardly. “These are for Levi.”

“Levi?”

“Yeah, he seemed pretty mad when he came through a few minutes ago. Could you - I don’t know - could you give these to him for me?”

“I think it would be better if you gave them to him yourself, he’s still here.”

Mikasa didn’t give you much of a choice as she steered you towards the door he’d gone through. She forcefully shoved you down a small hallway and into Levi’s office. He was furious when he heard the door open. The sharp scent was even thicker in here, nearly suffocating. But you couldn’t help your overwhelming urge to calm him.

“[Name],” Levi grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. His eyes were shut tight. “I know you can fucking read, the sign says employees only.”

“They have something for you, don’t be an asshole,” snapped Mikasa.

You thought you heard Levi mutter brat under his breath. He looked up at you, eyeing the items in your hands curiously. You smiled a bit. Avoiding his gaze, you admired how neat his desk was. You were sure, if you had a ruler, that everything would be evenly spaced apart.

“You seemed upset when you came in,” you said, swallowing thickly. “I remembered what you said and thought maybe a book and some tea would help? This one’s my favorite and I picked something that I thought went with it. - I promise I paid for it.”

You placed the items on his desk and slowly backed away. You tried to slip away now that your peace offering had been given. Mikasa, however, wouldn’t let you leave. Levi picked up the book, turning it over his hands. He studied the cover and read the synopsis. Finally, after a long minute, he hummed and turned back to you.

“I haven’t read this one,” Levi said. You stifled a sigh of relief. “You make interesting choices in tea, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you said quickly and Mikasa finally let you out the door.

Mikasa didn’t bring up the incident over lunch. You, on the other hand, couldn’t stop thinking about it. Why did you do that? It was incredibly impulsive, but also inappropriate. That was basically the equivalent of screaming out how much he made your heart race and your palms sweat.

You tried not to dwell on it. But over the course of the week, you found yourself reflecting. You had hoped, more than you realized, that he would like what you brought him. You wanted his approval, not just his thanks. But you hadn’t been able to find the time to stop by the store and see if he’d read it. You’d been too busy with work, along with some plans with friends.

The next time you saw Levi was at your work again. He came bearing another bag. You were worried your coworkers would start getting the wrong idea. An alpha giving an omega gifts - how must that have looked to them? Then again, it was awfully presumptuous to think that the bag was for you.

But you were certain that Levi would never court you. Did you want him to, even? You hadn’t put much thought into the idea. But you didn’t hate the thought of getting to know him better. All you knew was what little he’d revealed in your chats while you picked out books and tea. Along with a little of what Mikasa had told you.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” you joked as Levi stepped up to the counter.

There was a certain air about him today. Maybe it was the way he’d slicked his hair back neatly. Or how starched the collar on his shirt was where it came out of his camel colored vest. He even seemed a touch more rested than usual.

Levi placed a bag on the counter. “This is for you.”

You couldn’t stop the sound of delight that came out of your mouth as you took the book out of the bag. It was finally, finally in your hands. After countless hours of fruitless searching, the damn book was finally in your hand.

“Holy shit,” you cried. “You found it! How much do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house this time.” Levi reached in and pulled a small brown pouch out of the bag. He smirked, which sent a chill down your spine. “Cinnamon, something spicy to go with that dirty fucking shit you’re reading.”

You froze mid celebration, oh shit. It was indeed a book with a good chunk of smut in it. Your friend had let you borrow her copy, that’s the only reason you knew about the book in the first place.

“You read it?” your voice came out hoarse.

Levi clicked his tongue. “The important parts, to figure out which blend would go along with it. It’s no wonder you couldn’t find it, no self respecting bookshop carries porn.”

“It’s not porn!”

You were not expecting him to read it. But of course he would only read the spicy scenes. No context to the story or anything else. You were devastated.

“Mhm.” It did not sound like he believed you. With that, Levi turned and began to walk away. He called over his shoulder to have a good day, followed by the pet name they used in the book.

You felt warm all over, tingles chasing from head to toe. You stared after him until he was gone. Then you sat flustered in your seat with your cheek against the cool desk. You could feel a scream burning in the back of your throat. You were so glad there was a half wall so no one could see you.

When you finally got up the nerve to crack open the book you found an envelope. Your name was written in beautiful cursive on the back. Cautiously, you cut it open. Inside was money and a little note in the same scrawl.

I won’t hold this against you. I know your entire taste in literature isn’t trash. Here’s money back for the stuff you gave me. I can see why it’s your favorite.

L. Ackerman

PS. Don’t even fucking think about trying to give the money back.

It was a short note, but it was enough to bring that flutter back. You couldn’t help reading it over and over again.

Before you knew it, movie day was finally upon you. You dressed casually and were so excited that you got to the theater an hour before it started. There was no Mikasa in sight, so you sat on a bench and read. You didn’t start to worry until there was only fifteen minutes before the movie began and she was still nowhere to be seen. Not even a text.

You: Hey, just checking if you’re close by.

Mikasa: Sorry, I’m not going to be able to make it. Enjoy the movie, you’ll have to tell me what I missed.

You groaned. You did not want to see this movie on your own. Though, you supposed it wasn’t so bad. Lots of people went by themselves. You’d just been looking forward to some bonding time with your new friend.

“So this is what that little brat was up to,” said a voice behind you. You turned to find no other than Levi. His scent was just beginning to wrap you up in a field of flowers. He had two travel cups with him, and looked as attractive as ever. No white collared shirt today. That was replaced by casual clothes and tight fitting jeans.

“Mikasa?” you asked, forcing yourself to look away.

He rolled his eyes. “I should’ve known, she didn’t even read the damn thing.”

You stood in silence for a moment. You had to wonder if this was as weird for him as it was for you. You had to admit, you did not see this coming. You could only wonder if he was disappointed to see you there.

You cleared your throat. “Look, you don’t have to watch it with me. We can sit in separate rows -“

“Don’t be stupid. Here.” Levi held out a cup to you. “You didn’t get to read the first book with anything. - Let’s go see if they fucked our shit up.”

Levi grabbed your wrist, tugging towards the direction of your theater. Your skin tingled where he touched you. You weren’t surprised by the amount of stares, but each set of eyes you passed was still unnerving. You were glad to be in your seats where it’d be harder for them.

“I heard they’re already filming the next one,” Levi stated after a few moments. He wasn’t looking at you. He concentrated almost too hard on the screen, you thought he was going to bore holes into it. “We should go see it together when it comes out. Maybe grab dinner beforehand.”

“Like…a date?” you asked. It slipped out before you could stop yourself.

“What the hell else?”

You paused for a moment, twisting to look at him. You couldn’t figure out if he was serious or not. His cheeks gained a flush of pink. You smiled at him, then settled back into your seat.

“Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

Levi nodded, but didn’t say anything else as the lights went down. Somewhere through the night, in the tension of the dark theater, your hand ended up enveloped in his.

In the morning Stem and Spine was your first stop. You were there as soon as they opened. Mikasa was doing the opening drawer. You watched as Levi went up and slammed his hand down on the counter. She didn’t so much as flinch.

“Oi,” he said. Mikasa looked up at him. “What the hell was that stunt you pulled yesterday?”

You walked up behind him. “Yeah, you did miss one hell of a movie.”

“I don’t know why you’re both so annoyed, it seems my plan worked,” she said bored, not even bothering to look up from the cash she was counting.

“How did you know we wouldn’t just walk out of the theater and not watch the movie together?” you asked.

“You both like that series too much. Besides, Levi may know a lot about tea, but he’s also stupid. He never does anything for himself. So while he may not have realized what he was feeling, we all could see it. He just needed a little push. And so did you, [Name]. I knew you liked Levi.”

“I never actually told you that, though. I never told anyone.”

“You didn’t have to. You could smell it in the air when you were around each other. Like a call and response. You two were perfect and you couldn’t even see it. I knew from the first day you walked into the shop.”

Levi took your hand. “Don’t look so fucking smug.”

Mikasa laughed as Levi took you to his office. As soon as you stepped in Levi shut the door behind you. He gave you a swift kiss on the cheek as he went to his desk.

“She’s right you know,” he started, intentionally avoiding looking at you. “We are the perfect blend.”

You couldn’t help but wholeheartedly agree.

418 notes · View notes

isuckatwritingsobenice · 8 months

Note

Yandere! Alastor with a reader who’s famous? reincarnated AU, except ONLY the reader is reincarnated and Alastor isn’t, but somehow finds out reader is reincarnated and going to the living world to see her preform and she somehow notices him??

a/n: I believe i posted this a while ago but if not here it is! this was taken off my Ao3 because i did do this before! but thank you so much for your request!!

Anyways, moving on,

Just imagine, Alastor x Reincarnated reader, and imagine she's in the 21st century and she's like a singer, I'm thinking Mitski.

What if he found a way to get to the living world? Like he gets here and sees her preforming in a concert, specifically the song Circle. Imagine how hard it would be for him to hear the lyrics of that song from her, his past lover in another life, one she doesn't remember but he does. She doesn't even knows she's singing to him, especially with the end of the song.

(song in question )

There's a lie that I told to you

That now I can't tell the truth

And it ate me inside, so one soft drunken night

I slept with a man you knew

And in the morning, I walked home alone

And the businessmen saw my bones

With my skirt in their eyes, they remembered the nights

When they were that man you knew

You told me once

You were happy to have me

But I never gave me away

There's a lie that I told to you

I would give you my heart, I think

But it's up in a branch of a tree

It was only to tease when he climbed up the tree

Put my heart where I couldn't reach

I didn't mind, I adored him so

We forgot, and we left for home

And that was so long ago

Now the tree, it has grown

And nobody knows my lover is buried underground

Nobody knows my lover is buried underground

There's a lie that I told to you

(end)

HE IS HEAVILY FOCUSED ON THE LAST VERSE, MAINLY THE LYRICS “nobody knows my lover is buried underground”

Poor man believes it’s about him, and maybe he’s right

He would most definitely read the media for you, he'd bare with the magazines and have Charlie or maybe even Angel dust try to show him how to work a TV just enough so he could see you preform. He'd find out all about your career and about you. He'd take into account the past lovers you'd have and how and why the relationships ended. He would go through all your tracks and albums and records, listening to them intently and he'd fall in love with you again. He'd watch your interviews and shows you'd Co-host on for an episode. He'd look into your family and how well they're treating you. I don't think he would get a phone, but he would definitely nag Husk or Charlie to show him your profiles and go through all your photos and stare at them so he could engrave the details into his brain. He refuses to get a phone, but this will do.

Charlie ends up printing some of his favorite pictures of you out, handing it to him in a photo album and he keeps it stored safely in his room where it's hidden.

Regardless, I think he'd be interested in your human life, especially if you got a second chance and he didn't. :(

#alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin vaggie #hazbin demon #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel rosie #alastor #isuckatwritingsobenice

90 notes · View notes

armoreddragon · 2 months

Note

how did you first get into making this stuff? do you enjoy it?

There's a lot of possible answers here.

For a couple years after college, I worked at a laser engraving and cutting shop. Leather was a material we knew we could cut, but nobody ever asked for it, so I looked up some basic info and put together some masks as demo pieces. Then I got fired for unrelated reasons, but decided to keep going with the masks on my own. A decade later, I’m still going.

I've always enjoyed making things. The focused calm of working a craft, the challenge of finding the problems that need solving, followed by the satisfaction of holding in your hands something that hadn't exited before. It’s hard to beat that feeling. If you haven’t done it for a while, I highly recommend making a habit of it.

Sometime in college I realized that if I kept making things just for myself, I would eventually run out of both space in my closet and money in my bank account. So I took the best photos I could of what I had, and started posting it up on Etsy.

In high school ceramics class, I had an idea to try and make a flexible dragon skin out of little bits of clay, all glazed differently. I had no idea how to do this. A friend of mine was like "Yo it sounds like you want to look up how to make chainmail for that." She was right.

I work in architecture by day, and the decision to do that was unrelated but definitely related to my crafting obsession. Designing a kitchen, a café, a house, takes months or years of work, most of which is tedious details like picking tile patterns or looking up exactly what order to layer different sealant tapes to make sure the walls are watertight. Designing a crafting project gives me a creative outlet that is immediate. I can sit down for an afternoon and take an idea from a sketch on trace paper, to a final mask formed up out of leather. There's an excitement to that. A reminder that, yes, I can make cool stuff quickly, without needing to sink two years into a project.

For a while I worked to teach myself to draw. I managed to get pretty decent at sketching from life, with a moderate understanding of anatomy and perspective. I liked art, so I thought I wanted to make art. But I struggled with it. If I was drawing something from my imagination, no matter how well I managed to put the lines down on the paper, I would ultimately look at it and just be sad that it didn't exist in the real world. So eventually I gave up on the drawing part, and focused on the part I seemed to actually care about.

I can't envision a version of myself that doesn't make things. I think on some fundamental level, I measure my worth as a person based on what I put forth into the world. I don't know what else to do.

When you decide to turn a hobby into a business, it of course takes some of the delight away. It's no longer something you do when you want to relax and have some fun. It becomes an obligation, to make and ship orders on time, to pack up your stuff and bring it to craft fairs, to track your expenses and file your taxes, to stay on top of the constantly changing social media landscape. But it also lights a fire under your ass. You can't just keep making the same thing you made three years ago–you have to keep making new stuff, keep improving your techniques, keep reaching for new ideas that have never been made before. You lose some of the joy, but you gain a lot of satisfaction.

All through my childhood I filled my closet with little handicrafts kits, that I got as gifts or that caught my eye when following my dad to the art store. Calligraphy, wood carving, weaving looms, boondoggles, spirographs, knitting, crochet, fancy nautical knots, sculpey, and more that I can't remember. After all those different things, I’m so glad that I found a couple specific crafts that really grabbed me, that take enough work to develop expertise, that have expansive enough applications and possibilities, that I could devote a decade or more of my time to focusing on them.

I’d been interested in the furry fandom ever since little fantasy reading teenager me tried looking for stories where the dragons were the main characters, and I found people online who were doing just that. There’s a powerful do-it-yourself attitude that’s baked into the core of the fandom: The world isn’t giving us the art that we want, so we’re going to make it ourselves. I keep having ideas for things that I want, that don’t exist yet. If I want them to exist, I have to be the one to make them.

My dad was a photographer, and I spent many childhood afternoons with him in his darkroom in the basement, delightedly washing negatives, turning them gently over in their canisters of chemicals, sitting still in the dark as Dad unspooled the sensitive film, squinting in the red light as the projected images magically re-emerged on the clean white paper. What could be more amazing, more normal, more right, than having your own little space to work such magic for yourself.

In about 2008 or 9 I ordered my first batch of metal scales, with the idea of trying to make a dragon tail in time for Halloween. It took probably a couple weeks to figure out how to make it, and within a week I had thought of how to do it better and disassembled the entire thing. By the 3rd or 4th time I'd rebuilt it, I thought that it was probably good enough that I wouldn't feel embarrassed to post it online and see if someone might want to buy it.

Of course I love working on these things I make. But I don't think that's exactly why I make them.

#Thoughts #Real Life #creative writing #memoir

35 notes · View notes

cookiewriting · 10 months

Text

I'm a monster too

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader (there is no romantic relationship here but read it as you want)

Warnings: angst (probably), violence, mention of blood and injury, hints of panic attack, hints of self-harm

A/N: This took me way too long to write but I still hope you'll like it! Warnings are here for a reason, even if I try to not go into details I'm not in your heads and I don't know what will specifically be a trigger. Plese, take care of yourselves ❤️ There might be a part 2 later but I don't know when 😅

~ 1k words

Part 2

Music played in your ears as you walked through the busy streets of the city. You never liked going out, especially when you were alone. Usually, you would try to find a friend to come with you but today everyone seemed to be busy. You could have just ordered from home but a delivery just for some eggs seemed a little unnecessary. That’s how you found yourself hurrying to the nearest store, trying to avoid people and soothe yourself by counting your steps between each turn.

After a few minutes, you finally reached your destination but stopped in your tracks. Just in front of the store, a large group of people seemed to be gathering around someone, blocking the entrance for those unwilling to push through them. If this was any other day you would have turned around and gone back home but for some unknown reason today was the day you were curious. Looking closer to the crowd you tried to analyze the atmosphere among them. Some were shouting, others looked disgusted and a few tried to keep them away from the person standing in the middle. You felt bad for them, no one deserved to receive so much hate.

All of a sudden, your usual self disappeared and you found yourself walking towards the angry crowd. You pushed your way in and managed to get close enough to see the center of their attention. Red hair, green eyes, black jacket, the woman standing in front of you had been all over the news for the past few weeks, Natasha Romanoff. You were actually surprised to see her in such a public place until you realized she was injured and holding a drugstore bag. Anger made your blood boil. Those people were keeping her from finding a safe enough place where she could hide and heal. The same people she was protecting just a few months ago. They screamed awful words, calling her a monster, an assassin when all she ever did was try to survive.

Someone went to throw something at her when your eyes met. You expected her to dodge or at least stop it but she let it happen. You couldn’t take it anymore, you held out your hand for her and surprisingly she took it without hesitation. You dragged her behind you and she followed as quickly as she could. It all happened so fast, the angry mob never got a chance to see you disappear in the back alley leading to your apartment. Even then you didn’t consider yourself safe, you kept running and putting as much distance between you and them as you could.

You closed your door behind you as you arrived in your studio. For once, you were glad you chose one of the most secure buildings in the city, even though your rent was way over your original budget. There was no way anyone could get through your door if you didn’t want them to. You were safe.

As you noticed Natasha was still holding your hand in hers, you turned towards the woman. She was staring at you with wide and scared eyes, something that threw you off a little since you were only used to the strong image the media showed of her. Her hair was a bit messy, skin covered in bruises, clothes torn up and there was most definitely blood coming from her wounded side. You felt almost guilty for seeing her like this, so vulnerable. You were just a stranger in her life, you never earned her trust and still, she was in your house, holding your hand as if it was the only thing keeping her alive right now. You knew this state of mind all too well.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, hoping she would relax if she saw you being so calm, “You’re safe now. They won’t hurt you.” Even though she didn’t relax yet, she still nodded and you took this as your cue to keep going. “Is it okay if I take a look at that?” you asked while pointing at the bloodstain on her shirt. This caused her to grip your hand a little harder but she nodded again and you guided her to your bathroom.

You made quick work of helping her clean her wound. Maybe you’ve had to do it so many times your hands learned how to do it without thinking. Your touches stayed soft, you were constantly watching for any sign of discomfort from the woman seated on your sink. Her face was still blank and you could see her eyes staring into the void. You finished patching her up and put the supplies back in their places. You still made her a little bag for her to take with her when she would leave.

Once you were done, you went to your dressing and picked so clothes you hoped she could wear then went back to the bathroom to give them to her. You were going to turn around but a soft, vulnerable voice held you back, “Why?”. You smiled softly at the woman and looked back at her “Because they say I’m a monster too.” Her brows furrowed but she let you go without another word. If you wanted to hurt her you would already have tried.

That night, you couldn’t sleep. Natasha Romanoff was in your apartment, sleeping in your bed. You tossed and turned on the couch but at 3 am you finally gave up. Your thoughts were racing in your mind. How did you find yourself in this situation? What should you do tomorrow? Was it even legal to have her here? Not that you would turn her in anyways. But what if someone turned YOU in? Would you go to prison? Would it be worse? You couldn’t even begin to imagine what they would do to you. You kept asking yourself more and more questions until your brain ended up shutting off.

Soft light and the smell of food wake you up hours later. You opened your eyes to find out it was already late in the morning and a plate of pancakes was patiently waiting for you on your table. You quickly looked around but your suspicions were confirmed by a small note left on the door. Natasha had already left. You stood up slowly, letting your blanket fall on the ground, and took the small paper to read it.

Thank you for everything Call me if you need me See you around little Monster Nat On the back of the note, a number you could only guess to be hers was written in the same soft writing. Too nervous to text her right away, you simply entered it in your phone contacts and burned the note. They could call you paranoid but at least you wouldn't be the one to lead them to her.

part 2

#natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff comfort #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader platonic

55 notes · View notes

dearfuturehusbandblog · 24 days

Text

ZMAN CHEIRUSEINU aka "I'M the terrible communicator!?!?!?!!"

Dear Future Husband,

I hope nobody ever quizzes me on this blog because there are so many things that I've started and stopped writing that never got posted that I literally never remember what I've actually put here...

Not that that's really fully relevant to what I was thinking about writing now, but I currently have two unfinished posts in my drafts folder (amidst 25 others that will probably never get posted) that are just a recap of this year so far.

Because I'm just a kid and life is a nightmare.

Explaining what's going on right now is kind of problematic because I haven't provided the lengthy backstory yet (which is one of the drafts I have yet to finish...)

Suffice to say, MotherLivelyHeart is being a nightmare to me again.

I think I've shared before that MLH and I share a vehicle? If not... yeah, we share a car. I'll have to look through my posts to see if I've explained that situation before, because that's one more thing to check off the "my life absolutely f*ing sucks" list.

Usually this isn't the worst thing in the world because we operate on different schedules and there isn't much crossover when it comes to who needs the car when, and when there is I usually drop her off somewhere, do what I need to do, and pick her up after.

For the record, I HATE when she offers the opposite because I have a history of being abandoned in places waiting for her to pick me up and it gives me such severe anxiety.

So last week on Sunday I asked MLH what her plans were for the next day. I asked this because I overheard a phone call she received on Friday from the dentist's office about an appointment she had on Monday at noon that she hadn't told me anything about and I knew if I was going to ever find out she was going to take the car, I would have to be the one to ask her. So I asked. And wouldn't you believe it, she had a dentist appointment on Monday at noon! Shocker.

Now, I'd been out of work since the beginning of January (again, details will hopefully be in another post) so I had a lot to take care of at work last Monday and I told her that.

We agreed she would have the car for her appointment and I would take the car to work when she got home.

Come Monday afternoon, suddenly everything has changed.

You see, her boss called in sick and she had the day off because she has a specific job that requires her to work alongside her boss and if he doesn't work, she doesn't work.

So she had the day off. Joy.

Of course, did she tell this to me directly? No.

Did she message me this information? No.

I'm just supposed to approach her and ask, "hey, did your boss call in sick and give you the day off?" I guess.

So she went to her appointment and ran some errands and called me while she was still out. Apparently some specific water bottles she can only get in like two places were available at one store about 20 minutes away from our house and she placed a pickup order so she could get them before they were sold out. The order had to be picked up between like 2:30-3:30pm and she called me at around 1:30.

Great.

She picked a pickup time that was directly during the time I was supposed to be at work.

Which she knew.

Because I told her this literally the day before.

So I told her fine. She should do the pickup order and when she got back I would take the car to work.

"Well, I also wanted to go swimming."

*Deep breath* Ok, what time is swimming?

"From 2-9pm."

At this point I didn't know how long I'd be at work because one of the things I had to take care of could be like 4-6 hours and I didn't know if there would be enough time when I was done to get home and let her get to the pool with enough time to swim before they closed.

"Ok, well why don't you go swimming, do the pickup order, and then I'll take the car to work?"

"Well, I want to come home and eat something first."

Ok. So now, what was supposed to be my time to take the car is going to be "stolen" by her coming home (15 minutes), eating something (15 minutes), going to swim (40 minutes), getting the pickup order (30 minutes), and coming back home (20 minutes).

This is TWO HOURS off of my time.

WHICH I HAD TOLD HER I NEEDED LITERALLY THE DAY BEFORE.

So she came home, ate something, and changed into her bathing suit. She left around 2pm for the pool.

I assumed at this point I'd hear from her around 3:30pm that she was around the corner.

But 3:30 came and went.

4:00pm came and went.

4:30pm came and went.

5:00pm came and BigSis messaged that she would be done at work in an hour and could either of us give her a ride home?

MOTHERF@*$%^#$ER

So it's been three hours without an update from MLH, but then she responds "I should be on my way back from the pickup order then."

EXCUSE ME!?!?!?!

She left for the pool at 2pm. THREE HOURS have gone by and she hasn't even gotten the pickup order that was supposed to be picked up between 2:30-3:30pm!?!?!?!!?!?

But she tells me that I'M a terrible communicator.

I was supposed to get the car by 1:30pm latest. It was now after 5pm and I STILL hadn't gotten to work yet.

As much as I hate when she offers to drop me off at work so she can take care of things that will take a few hours, SHE DIDN'T EVEN ASK ME THAT. She made it seem like I would have the car all afternoon to take care of what I needed to at work. And when her plans shifted, she made it seem like I'd have the car by 3:30pm latest.

And let me remind you THAT I TOLD HER THE DAY BEFORE WHAT MY SCHEDULE WAS SO THAT THIS S*** WOULDN'T HAPPEN.

But I'M the terrible communicator.

At that point I was so frickin annoyed already. MLH messaged me "should I get her or just come home" and I was so peeved I said "just get her because if you come home and I take the car I'm not picking her up."

She didn't respond to that message.

Great.

No thumbs up. No "ok." Just nothing.

Then at 6:12pm I get a message from her "car's downstairs in front."

So no message from BigSis that MLH had picked her up and they were heading home. No "we're around the corner." No nothing except over an hour later "take it."

BUT I'M THE TERRIBLE COMMUNICATOR!?

At that point it was too late for me to do some of the things I needed to take care of for work because, again, I was supposed to have been there FIVE HOURS EARLIER. And a friend messaged and asked if I could go with her to Costco, so I said to hell with it and I went to Costco with her.

While I was at Costco I messaged both MotherLivelyHeart and BigSis about what I was getting so we were all on the same page. Included in that message was eggs because, well, I was getting eggs.

I got home at like 10pm and MotherLivelyHeart and BigSis were already asleep. I made a couple of mini salami kugels with some spinach that oddly floated to the top, waited for them to cool, tried 1/4 of one before sticking them in the fridge.

Next morning I open the fridge and there's a new carton of 1.5 dozen eggs. Because apparently MLH went to the supermarket early in the morning and got eggs because "we were out."

DESPITE ME LITERALLY MESSAGING THE NIGHT BEFORE THAT I WAS BUYING EGGS AT COSTCO.

Oh, but it gets better. Because the salami kugel I had tasted the night before was missing.

BigSis was working from home so I asked her about it and she said she had no clue.

So I asked MotherLivelyHeart about it, thinking maybe it slipped out of the fridge, smashed, and she threw it out.

But no.

Guess who ate it.

Yep, the woman who has been suffering from gout and avoiding meat for the better part of a year.

The woman who saw it in the fridge and said to herself "oh, that's one of the broccoli kugels LivelyHeart made for herself for Shabbos that she said wasn't good. I guess I'll eat that for breakfast without asking her if she really doesn't want it because although she's on a weird diet right now, there's no way she's made a meal plan for herself that includes this food item she made for herself."

Because, did she message me to ask if she could have it?

Nope.

Did she knock on my door to ask if she could have it?

Nope.

Halfway through eating it she realized it was salami.

And she still finished the whole thing.

And still at NO POINT did she message me AT ALL to even tell me that she ate it.

I had to find out by inquiring OF HER.

BUT. I'M. THE. TERRIBLE. COMMUNICATOR!?!?!?!

I shouldn't be mad.

It's just food, after all, right?

Except that it's not.

It's a frickin pattern of carelessness and disregard for me as a person.

And I'm so frickin sick of it.

I'm so damn tired.

It wouldn't have killed her to ask.

It wouldn't have killed her to apologize.

And what I haven't really explained here (because again, that's in a draft post) is that I've been on an elimination diet since January 1st which has cut most things from my available food selections.

But is she on an elimination diet?

Nope.

So we have a HOUSEFUL, a PANTRYFUL, and a FRIDGEFUL of food she can eat.

And she chooses the ONE thing I made FOR ME.

Which she KNEW I made for ME.

Instead of the MYRIAD OF THINGS that she can eat that I can't.

Which means that she's not only taken a meal from me, but now I'm at a food deficit from the fridge while she lives in abundance.

BUT. I'M. THE. TERRIBLE. COMMUNICATOR.

So let's leap forward to today.

Today was Shabbos mevorchim. Pesach is in two weeks.

And MotherLivelyHeart decided we are going to change over the kitchen two weeks ahead this year.

So she scheduled her cleaning lady to come tomorrow (Sunday) to help clean the kitchen so it can be turned over.

Did she take into account that this would be motzei Shabbos and that we'd have to make Shabbos and that would involve dirty dishes and use of the stove/oven and pots and pans?

Yeah, no.

Did she take into account that the way she wants to clean the oven requires the oven to be self-cleaned before and after which takes a good several hours and creates so much smoke that we'd have to keep the windows open and also it's like 40F right now and she also wanted to go to sleep early because the cleaning lady is coming at like 8am?

Yeah, no.

BigSis went over the oven cleaning thing with her and she exclaimed "are you kidding me?! Then why am I having the cleaning lady come tomorrow?!"

BECAUSE YOU SCHEDULED HER WITHOUT CONSULTING US.

BECAUSE THERE WAS NO COMMUNICATION.

DO YOU SEE A FRICKIN THEME HERE!?!?!!?

Oh, but there's more. Because there's always more.

Thursday was another nightmare day for various reasons. One of which was that I ran errands with MotherLivelyHeart.

She scheduled an appointment for smackdab in the middle of the time I told her I'd be working.

YES. AGAIN.

And she wanted to drop me off at work and pick me up when I was done.

Well absofrickinlutelynot, thankyouverymuch.

I was supposed to work until 6pm.

I had told customers I would be available until 6pm.

Her appointment was scheduled for 6pm.

So of course "I need the car at 5:30pm."

She wanted to drive me to work earlier so that she could take the car at 5:30pm to her appointment that wouldn't be done until 7pm and then come get me an hour and a half after I was done working.

But I was supposed to trust that she wouldn't run errands or dilly dally around and that she'd actually get me at 7:30pm, which we know is never the case.

So I told her no, I'd be taking the car to work. But I would notify the customers I'd only be there until 5:30pm, at which point I'd get her and drive her to her appointment. Then while she was in her appointment I could do the Shabbos shopping, since it seemed pointless to have to wait for her to come home again before I could go out and shop.

For various reasons, we had three stores we needed to go to, one of which was about 20 minutes in the opposite direction of where her appointment was. I figured I could go there first, then on my way back to get her I could run by the other two stores, get her and then we'd go straight home.

But no.

Because it was raining and people apparently don't know how to drive in the rain. So despite me taking the highway, which should have cut like 10 minutes out of the ride each way, it took me about 30 minutes to get to that first store, which I was in for maybe 10 minutes, and as I was checking out MLH messaged "my appointment is almost over, where are you at?"

So all I had time for was turning around and going straight to get her.

Which, fine, whatever.

One of the stores we went to literally just for chicken.

And it was chicken for her because she wanted a specific type of breaded chicken for Shabbos.

So I figured I'd run into the store and grab it while she stayed in the car.

But no.

Because while I was unbuckling, she was unbuckling. Because she decided to come in.

So she went to look at side salads and I went to the chicken section where I waited but she never showed up.

Then I get a message from her.

"Where are you?"

Excuse me???? WHERE ARE YOU, WOMAN???

I told her I was at the chicken section waiting for her and she said "I already checked out. I'm going back to the car."

WE LITERALLY WENT TO THIS STORE TO BUY HER CHICKEN.

SHE CAME IN WITH ME.

PRESUMABLY TO BUY HER CHICKEN.

But she's checked out already!? WITH WHAT!?

Oh. Apparently something to eat. Because she's hangry.

Which she, OF COURSE, DID NOT TELL ME.

Fine. Whatever.

So I bought her frickin chicken.

And then on the way home she got mad at me about three driving-related things that were out of my control (like the car started making a weird noise that might be the muffler, and there was a huge pothole I couldn't avoid, and I was coming to a stop at an intersection when some lady rounded the corner quickly and we barely missed colliding...) which resulted in her yelling at me that she hates the way I'm driving.

So, yeah, that was a fun ride home.

*EYEROLL*

Anyway, on the way to her appointment she said "we never worked out a Shabbos menu."

I told her the same thing I've told her almost every week over the last three months: I'm eating differently from you guys, so you just tell me what you want and I'll grab it from the store, because I already have set aside what I'm going to eat.

And she tells me "my boss has off tomorrow, so I can cook."

Which is perfectly fine in my eyes because I'm still recovering from an injury (again, that's one of the drafted posts...) and I also had a horrendous cold for the previous two weeks so I'm still trying to get back to baseline. Any pressure off me is appreciated.

We basically worked out that for shabbos we'd do a big soup for Friday night (which I would make), then she wanted chicken (obvs) and I had bought green beans at Costco I told her she could have, and then Shabbos lunch would be fish and salady stuff.

Well, Friday rolls around.

The day already sucked because I tried adding some vegetables back into my diet during the week that are apparently problematic for my digestion. Fun.

But then MotherLivelyHeart decides to stick to her arbitrary Pesach cleaning schedule which says to clean the milchig dishes she's had piling up all week. So of course she decides to do this at like noon and doesn't finish the job and there are still milchig dishes in the sink at 3pm when I need to go in and make the soup.

Add onto that, one of my "chores" is the pareve dishes, some of which have been piling up too and also need to be done, which she feels the need to remind me of, despite her milchig dishes still filling the sink.

So I go in around 3pm and just start cooking, using the small bit of counter space that's available to me.

She decides that's the perfect time to finish the milchig dishes.

FINE. WHATEVER.

She gets them out of the way and reminds me YET AGAIN about the pareve dishes.

FINEWHATEVER.

So around 4pm I'm back in the kitchen, doing the pareve dishes, of which I only got about half done because it was causing pain and I still had to cook.

So I pivoted and did the soup.

But nothing else had been cooked yet.

So I made the green beans.

And I had to separate the soups so I could add things to theirs that I can't eat.

At this point I'm still annoyed from her the day before, my insides are so unhappy with the newly tested foods, I'm in pain from the injury, and I'm trying to cook for Shabbos.

Around 6pm I asked BigSis if she could help with the chicken. She was like "I STILL HAVE TO SHOWER!!!" As though she didn't have all day for that and somehow me needing help is my fault. She said "if you had asked me like three hours ago I could have done it."

Except that three hours ago, the milchig dishes were still filling up the sink, so.... what exactly do you expect from me!?

Sometime a little earlier when MotherLivelyHeart had been in the kitchen it was clear I wasn't doing so well and she asked what was wrong and I described the pain and she was like "I'm sorry" and then disappeared.

So then she gets a "20 minutes to candle lighting" alarm on her phone, and she's been trying to light early in zchus of the hostages and chayalim, so she calls out "20 minutes to licht benchen." Which I responded to but she didn't hear, obviously, because she yelled again "LivelyHeart, did you hear me!?"

To which I responded an annoyed "YES!!" and she was like "you don't have to talk to me that way! I clearly didn't hear you. And BigSis and I can make Shabbos on our own, you know."

Which, MYGODWOMAN. YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO.

My responsibility based on our conversation was the soup.

ZE HU.

SHE was supposed to do the chicken and the green beans and whatever else they wanted.

So now she's annoyed at me because I'm annoyed at her for not doing the thing she was supposed to do, but I'M the one in the wrong.

FINE. Whatever.

In the end I didn't do the chicken.

I literally didn't have the strength for it, let alone the energy.

Not that it was really missed at the meal, but she was a bit annoyed and gave me that same "BigSis and I can cook for Shabbos on our own, you know." To which I responded "You said you were going to cook." I literally don't even remember what her response was.

Well, fast forward through Shabbos to tonight because I asked her if she wanted the chicken for melava malka or if we should stick it in the freezer for a week since it's KFP.

She wanted it for melava malka.

Which, fine, whatever.

I told her if she could bread it, I would cook it.

She got gloves, she got bowls, she got the chicken, and she got eggs.

She did not get the other ingredients she needed for the breading. Or a plate to put it on. Or a fork.

She sat down at the table and then asked me to get the other ingredients.

Which, fine. Whatever.

I got an interesting piece of mail that I'll discuss in another post when I know more what's going on with it, but it basically called my attention to research something. So I was on my computer off to the side while she was breading the chicken.

The next thing I know, she's frying the chicken.

I went into the kitchen and asked her why she was frying it when I told her I would do it for her since cooking usually exhausts her, and she got all frustrated and exasperated at me and said something like "I DON'T HAVE ALL NIGHT TO WAIT FOR YOU."

And I was like, "what are you talking about!? I was waiting for you to finish breading it! you didn't tell me you were done!"

Which just pissed her off more.

BECAUSE. I'M. THE. TERRIBLE. COMMUNICATOR.

But this is the time of year we celebrate freedom, right?

This is the time of year we thank Hashem for rescuing us from a horrible situation.

Well, where's mine?

We're supposed to celebrate every year as though WE ALL left Mitzrayim.

As though we were ALL saved.

But I am not saved.

I have never been saved.

The stupidity I've just described above is just a piece of the insane patterning of my entire life.

I have no escape from this nonsense.

And I'm just so done with all of it.

I want it all to be over.

I want it all to go away.

Where's my freedom?

Where's my salvation?

I really have to finish those other two drafts, because this isn't even the clearest picture of what I've been dealing with since 2024 started. It's barely April and I just want this secular year to be over.

There are a couple of people who have suggested guys to me over the last several months and, although they're not really what I'm looking for, right now I just don't have the emotional energy for a new relationship. I'm just so burned out from this one that I deal with every frickin day of my stupid life, which of course I can't even tell these people.

So... dear future husband, I hope you can hang in there, because I don't know when I'll be ready for you.

But maybe by then I'll be a good communicator.

-LivelyHeart

And now for the story after the story:

So, after that disaster of a drive back from the store on Thursday night, we got home around 8:30pm and although she got something small to eat from that second supermarket I knew that MotherLivelyHeart hadn't eaten anything since lunch so when I made dinner for myself I made a second bowl for her. I brought it to her and she said "oh... you didn't have to do that." Not a lot of enthusiasm there.

She didn't eat it for about a half an hour, by which time it was probably cold, and the next thing I knew, she was in bed going to sleep without another word about how it was.

Now, I don't demand praise or feedback for anything I cook, but she usually makes a comment about whatever I make, so I found it odd that she was silent on the matter.

On Friday I went to ask her about something else and while I was talking to her I asked how her dinner was the night before and she said something along the lines of, "it was... interesting. ground chicken just doesn't cook well, it's not your fault. you prepared it well, it's just not that good. ground turkey is better."

No "thank you," no "it was sweet of you to think of me," no "I appreciate the effort especially considering that you're working through the pain right now."

Just meh.

I love when I'm appreciated.

#jumblr #frumblr #shidduch #frum #jewish dating #orthodox #shadchanim #shidduchim #jewish #shadchan #shidduch dating #dating #jewishdating #i am the shidduch crisis

12 notes · View notes

collidedscope · 9 months

Text

Crowley’s Identity Theory:

After rewatching S1 and S2, I wanted to remake this post into clear “sections” of the theory, with only the pieces I find to be most convincing.

Basically, my theory is that Crowley’s pre-fallen/angelic identity was Lucifer, that Lucifer and Satan are 2 separate entities, and that every part of Crowley’s memory that included his “angelic identity” was erased. (This is not a new theory, but I did think of this list myself).

Evidence that Crowley was an Archangel/very powerful:

The miracle to hide Gabriel registered on heaven's radar as something that's powerful enough to raise the dead 25x over- "only the most powerful of archangels." This was when they were trying to perform half of a miracle as subtly as possible.

Crowley can pause time- something (I believe) nobody else has been shown to do.

Crowley had access to Gabriel's confidential files.

"[Gravity] seemed like a good idea when we were all talking about it." The way he said this made it seem like he was personally part of a group that discussed how physics should operate.

Evidence that Crowley was specifically Lucifer:

Crowley was the one to tempt Eve- historically this was Lucifer.

Crowley was the one to tempt Jesus by showing him "all of the kingdoms of the world”- historically this was Lucifer.

According to God, "Crowley has something no other demon has: an imagination." It takes an imagination to ask questions. It takes an imagination to organize the first rebellion.

The names "Lucifer" and "Satan" are never used interchangeably, allowing for the possibility they are two separate entities.

Lucifer means "light-bringer." The earliest scene we have of Crowley is creating a nebula.

Shax referred to Crowley as "the arch-traitor". Shax probably wouldn’t know, but this could be a bit of foreshadowing from the writers.

Evidence that Crowley lost some of his memory:

"I knew the angel you were" "The angel you knew is not me."

Crowley had no recollection of Furur (the demon who made the Nazis zombies) from before the Fall, even though apparently they were quite close. Furfur even immediately recognized Crowley’s name. Even when Furfur went into detail about how they used to horseplay, Crowley still didn’t remember

Crowley also had no recollection of Saraqael (the new archangel), even though they worked together on a nebula, which is something angel!Crowley seemed very passionate about. Again, even once Crowley was reminded of this, he still had no recollection of her.

Evidence that Lucifer lost his memory:

During his trial, Gabriel assumed he would be cast down to Hell (like Lucifer), and he also seemed to be expecting for his memories to be erased- he was carrying around a tool to store his memories, and he enacted his plan so quickly that he was gone before anyone noticed. I think it’s reasonable to assume that banishment to Hell+ memory-wiping is the precedent for this situation. And according to the Metatron, there was only one other time a supreme archangel was disowned- Lucifer.

Plot Significance:

Could be used by Heaven to turn Aziraphale against Crowley.

The arc could be that this leads Aziraphale to eventually understand that Heaven/Hell are not the good/bad binary. If Crowley was the first to rebel, the one who started the war, the first demon, the one who essentially created Hell…. then Hell simply cannot be inherently evil, because Crowley is the furthest thing from evil. The “angel/demon” dichotomy is arbitrary… essentially a social construct.

I don’t know much about The Second Coming, but from what I can tell online, Lucifer does seem to have a significant role in Revalations… so I imagine it would be easy to tie the Aziraphale/Crowley plot with the “world-ending” plot.

#there’s obviously OTHER explanations for most/all of these points #i believe more in this every day #i speak #good omens #good omens theory #go2 #good omens spoilers

24 notes · View notes

polarisjisung · 1 year

Text

pretty boy

as far as clichés go you and jisung fit every one, you're everything he wish he could have and he's everything you wish you could be, there's not a detail about him you could forget— except somehow you don't seem to remember his name

genre: romance

warnings: (mildly romanticised) smoking

a/n: overly amplified effects of smoking (like its a joke but not really? nothing too bad tho i promise!) [03/11/23— this is an old work and I'd like to think my writing has improved since so please bare that I mind while reading 💀]

jisung was no advocate of smoking, of skipping school for the sole purpose of getting wasted, of attending those god awful frat parties the night before an exam or slipping out of class just to feel the blunt between your fingers, puffs of smoke leaving your mouth

but for you he'd break all his rules

the girl he'd run into every friday night at precisely 03:19am at the same spot outside the cat cafe in 73rd Street, it was routine

you always seemed to have a small limp in your step, a slight pain in your eyes and a new bruise, or at least a darkened version of the previous somewhere on your body— sure he could think of a few reasons why you might be bruising or they might not be bruises at all but quite frankly how you ended up in that position was not his concern

treating your wounds, however, was right up his alleyway

besides, jisung knew not to worry. he had this undying trust in your words, and so he when you said it was nothing serious, he'd believe you every time

"this might be the worst I've ever seen you," he's quick to note, barely noticing your tired eyes behind the blue bruise and dark swelling that's formed over it. it was a shame, really. jisung had always thought you had beautiful eyes

you can barely let out a quiet chuckle without wincing in pain

"thanks pretty boy, I try my best"

jisung drags you into the convenience store to your left— he somehow finds himself secretly admiring your tough exterior

"you're lucky I'm still around, I was working the early shift tonight"

he wouldn't dare tell you that he stuck around just to be sat here with the cotton swabs doused in alcohol in his hand, pressing gently against your wounds, to make sure you weren't too badly injured, like in those god awful nightmares he'd started having recently— no, that was far too embarrassing and you really had a way to enhance embarrassment when the time came, so jisung had steered clear of that

you hum, and jisung begins to unwrap the band aids for your wounds, the ones he specifically kept out back even when they went out of stock, just in case you passed by, and you always did

his hair isn't its usual light blue tinge under the poor store lighting, this time, it's a purple sort of shade, you notice

"you dyed your hair"

jisung doesn't know what to say, nodding silently

it suits him, in fact it might be his best look yet, but you keep that to yourself— couldn't seem too thankful now, could you?

"so? any wild plans this weekend"

you shrug as he wraps up. this was your first weekend without a single clue what you'd be doing— suddenly, you had no interest in the parties you'd been invited to or the link ups or smoking sheshes you'd spontaneously plan or any sort of mischief or trouble you knew was routine for you at the weekend

admittedly part of it had to do with jisungs golden boy persona

jisung was perfect, quaterback, captain of the dance team, smartest guy you knew, good looking if that wasn't already blatantly obvious and a total sweetheart

and here you were inwardly flushing at his sweet gestures and biting back smiles at his small slip ups— as cliche as the situation might've been you certainly weren't stupid enough to not know what this was and if you had any reason to change it'd be for jisung

besides, damaging his reputation was the least of your intentions. maybe it was jisung who would change you for the better

so no, it didn't appeal to you the same as it once had

"that's a first"

"you tell me pretty boy, any plans?" jisung swear he's heard an angel at the sound of your deep broken chuckle

"why?"

he looks up at you, dumbfounded, his hand returning to his side after he placed the first aid box, his first aid box reserved especially for you, on the top shelf of the storage cupboard

"I'd like to know"

jisung shakes his head and you get this feeling that you haven't answered his question quite the way he wanted you to

"why do you call me that" he questions, but you don't understand why of all the times he could've asked you, jisung asks you now

jisung had told you his name plenty of times before, but it just never stuck with you, and now, even though you knew practically everything about him, certainly his deepest secrets, his name was an absolute mystery to you

"I think you're pretty." well, you wouldnt say that wasn't a complete lie. It was more a less emphasised truth. you thought he was the prettiest, breathtaking in fact , but that didn't quite seem to have the same ring to it

jisung chuckles deeply, a loud laugh that comes from somewhere in the back of his throat with his head thrown back and his eyes closed slightly, the vibrations clearly visible in his exposed neck

"this black eye of yours seems to be affecting your vision, let's get you home huh?"

he throws his arm over your shoulder, and you walk through the cold night towards your apartment complex, well you assume its cold at least considering jisungs arm around you has your heart beating at heinous rates and you feel as feverish as ever, almost breaking into a sweat

its only when you reach your apartment door that you decide to break the silence and speak up again

"I mean what I said, night pretty boy" and jisung has the door shut in his face before he can even begin to formulate a response

you hadn't always been a big fan of school uniforms, more specifically the name tag element, you just thought it looked tacky, but when you spot a familiar lilac haired boy, you'd never been more thankful

"psst park" you try and grab his attention and despite noticing jisung decides its best not to get him involved with you at school

you of course, know exactly what he's doing, choosing to walk up in front of him and lean down to grab his attention

"can we talk?" you gesture outside and jisung immediately knows where you're taking him, but complies anyways, it'd be far too much effort to think of a reason to avoid you— especially with his friends watching from beside him

"you couldn't hit a blunt by yourself?"

you shake your head, eyes closed, the image of jisung staring up at you amused from his seat on the fence clear in your mind

"I could, just wanted you beside me"

your advances have been clear as day since the first time you met jisung, but some part of you feels the need to prove that your behaviour to him is much more than your vicariously flirty personality

"you wanna try?"

this isn't the first time you've offered him a blunt, and it wouldn't be the first time he's turned you down, only this time he doesn't, taking a step forward with his outstretched hand

"you're sure?" you confirm, eyes locked, "no pressure or anything pretty boy"

"well then." you shrug."I guess I should give you a few warnings"

jisung rolls his eyes, a quiet fuck it escaping his lips as he takes a long puff, just the way he'd seen you do it, removing the blunt from his lips

"smoking is injurious to health"

"you're injurous to my health, dont see me going around telling you that do you beautiful"

a one hit wonder you think, clueless as to where jisungs sudden spurt of confidence had come from, the pep talk from chenle before you ended up here but you can't say you don't like it

just as he's about to go in again, jisung feels you snatch the blunt from between his fingers

"open your mouth"

you take a hit, pressing your lips to his in an attempt to shotgun the boy before you, the most lazy smile on his lips as he realises what you've done

you smirk, eyes lingering on the park as his stare intently into yours

"cat got your tongue?"

and before you can begin to tease any further jisung grabs you by the neck and joins your lips once again

"no you have"

#jisung #jisung park au #park jisung x you #park jisung x reader #jisung x y/n #jisung x you #jisung x reader #nct jisung #nct dream #nct dream x y/n #nct dream jisung

48 notes · View notes

lcs-library · 8 months

Text

Ignore that this is a day late ok?🫶

Safeshiptember Day 13: Beach

Taglist: @dango-daydreams

Sakuya wiped a layer of sweat off of his brow as he entered the kitchen, shouting another order. Omi gave him a thumbs-up, starting work on the dish immediately.

Today marked Mankai’s now-annual tradition of helping out at a small beach cafe run by one of Omi’s friends. Of course, not everyone could make it given the time constraints, meaning the company would have to rely on some of the ensemble cast, as well as outside help from some of the members’ partners and friends.

Lu decided to spend her limited break time lounging on the place’s deck, staring off into the glittering sea, soaking in the salty air as she turned over a small keychain, inspecting it, taking in every detail of the gaudy flower charm, hoping it would be good enough for her plan. Sneaking away long enough to buy it was already a challenge, let alone picking it out from the mess of other items in the store.

“Lu! You’ve gotta come in soon!” Omi called from the door, wielding a spatula in one hand and a pair of tongs in the other. The poor man really deserved a break, but, knowing him, it was unlikely he’d take the opportunity.

“Coming!” She replied, adjusting her uniform as she entered the sweltering kitchen, making the midday heat feel like a tundra.

As she entered, Sakuya burst in the kitchen’s door, taking a few dishes to immediately rush back out again.

Lu couldn’t help cracking a smile at the sight, even if only for a brief moment. He was too hardworking for his own good, which in turn, served as her motivation as she set out to help serve a few customers.

Right as she did, Sakuya returned to the kitchen, giving her a wink in passing, before clocking out for the day, even if he would have liked the extra time with Lu.

Even then, it didn’t matter. He had a mission.

Along the boardwalk laid about a million little stores, each specializing in some of the worst food you’ve ever had, trinkets, and all sorts of nonsense. He and Lu had visited earlier that morning to take a gander at what they had in store, the two not surprised when they were met with shops made specifically to waste their money. And yet, Sakuya felt it would still be nice for her to have a keepsake to remember their time here, regardless of if they would return or not.

He pulled down on the hem of his shirt, stretching it out a bit as he walked, glancing back to get a glimpse of the cafe, stealing a look at Lu taking orders with a clearly forced smile. He giggled to himself, turning to find the shop he had his eyes on.

He entered, straightening himself up as he looked around the tacky gift shop. Sure, everything was overpriced, and, yes, he knew that Lu wasn’t necessarily the trinket-collecting type, but he was sure he would be able to find something suitable for even someone like her and her “if it doesn’t serve a purpose, dump it” attitude.

Sakuya browsed the shelves, inspecting every item carefully, from jewelry to postcards to something he wasn’t even sure how to describe, nothing seemed like something she would like, much less keep.

That was, until something caught his eye.

On a large rack sat a lone keychain, with the store having sold out of the rest of them. It was simple, a tropical flower, in a sweet purple color, Lu’s favorite. It must have been fate.

Sakuya quickly swept it off of the display, taking it to the register.

“A paopu flower? Nice choice! Do you know the story behind them?” The cashier asked, bagging the small trinket.

“There’s a story?” Sakuya replied, eyes wide.

“Yep. They say that if you share the petals, your destinies become intertwined. Sucks that they stopped growing around here, though.”

“Agreed! It would’ve been cool to do it! Thank you!”

“Of course!”

With that, Sakuya left the shop, somehow even more pep in his step than usual.

Lu sighed as she peeled off her uniform, revealing a loose floral tank top. The sun was setting, the day was done, and she was exhausted.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a vibration from her phone.

“Meet me on the big cliff by the cafe! I’ve got something to show you<3,” read a DM from Sakuya.

Which one was that?, she wondered, only to find a shock of pinkish-red the moment she looked up, and not from the sunset. That must have been it.

After retrieving her things and a short hike, she was met with a bright smile and a sweet voice.

“Hi!” Sakuya greeted, beckoning her closer.

“Heya. What did you need?’

“I have something for you.”

“Oh?”

If this was what she thought it was…

Sakuya reached inside his pocket, holding something in his clenched fist. When he opened it to reveal his gift, Lu had to stifle a giggle. He looked a little hurt, cowering back slightly.

“Do you not like it?”

“No, no! I love it, it’s just that…”

She reached inside her bag to reveal an identical keychain, though only in a shade of pink.

Now it was Sakuya’s turn to laugh.

“There’s no way!”

“Yeah, I’m honestly shocked. Do you still want it?”

“Of course. Do you still want mine?”

“Yep.”

The two exchanged gifts, dopey grins on their faces as their hands barely brushed across each other. Lu immediately put hers on the string of her tote bag, Sakuya clipping his to a loop on his shorts.

“So I’m assuming the cashier told you that weird petal-destiny thing too?” Lu asked playfully.

“They did! I managed to get the last one, too, so they must have done that at least, what, twenty times?”

“Maybe. Maybe more.”

They laughed at the nearly nonsensical scenario, Sakuya’s hand reaching out to take Lu’s as if on instinct.

The two locked eyes for merely a moment before turning to the scenery before them, drinking it in. Lu sighed. They would see this sky every day, and had for all their lives, but there was always something about viewing it together. Maybe it was the human nature of finding beauty in sunsets, maybe it was their company.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was the desire to buy into superstition. The belief that they’d be able to spend the rest of their lives together, that even if or when they part, they would find each other again through the power of destiny and fate.

Whatever it was, it was cut just a little too short by Sakyo’s yell from below for the two to get moving, for the company was leaving.

They sighed, managed a giggle, then set down the small hill to meet up with the others, each making sure to remember to keep the flowers on themselves, just in case.

#HUGE thanks to Hahn for helping me out with some of the plot<3 #did I steal some of the lore from kingdom hearts? YOU BET #I’m allowed to be cringe<3 #fanfiction #yume time #acting angels #Safeshiptember #Safeshiptember 2023 #my fics

6 notes · View notes

theadventurerslog · 4 months

Text

The Curse of Monkey Island | Part 5

This will be a shorter post as we head into Part 3 of the game, but it includes one of the many big highlights of the game in my opinion.

First, however, I needed to follow that map and find Elaine.

The map is referring to the theatre. When you go on stage, they're already in the midst of their performance to an audience of monkeys. Good on the crew for finding something to do, enjoying what the island has to...offer.

Toward the back of the stage is a mound of dirt with a shovel. There isn't much to do here while the performance is happening.

The map itself is more specifically referring to the light controls above the stage.

The map directions were as follows:

"With all eyes open, follow the path to the X. South East North West West South East Two paces North Easat East South West X Marks the Spot!"

So, I simply needed to press the buttons in the location that matches each cardinal direction then flip the switch. The lights change each time you press and there's a fun little easter egg.

Max light! I have some extra appreciation now that I've played Sam & Max Hit the Road even more so than having only watched the TellTale games. I don't remember what I thought when seeing that before I even knew what Sam & Max was.

Once all the right buttons were pressed in the right order the lights formed an X over the dirt pile.

Of course I couldn't do much when the play was still on. Stepping back onto the stage led to Slappy Cromwell's juggling act.

"Is this a dagger I see before me? No, it's three!"

And in the prop room, the travel trunk was now open, revealing a load of cannonballs that would be used next for the juggling act, "The famous 'Cannonball Juggling' scene from Romeo and Juliet."

What's a little sabotage, right? There are two options for the cannonballs: the chicken grease or the cooking oil. I tend to go for the grease, but it really doesn't matter and this time I used the oil just for the change of pace.

Juggling slippery cannonballs goes about as well as you'd expect and he drops them and one flips one of the wood slats of the stage, launching Cromwell into the other actor sending them both off stage. The monkey audience were ecstatic. Standing ovation.

That cleared the stage and I was able to dig Elaine up and she was stored in the ship's crowsnest.

With Elaine found and a ship, map, and crew acquired, that brings an end to Part II.

Time for Part III and one of my many favourite bits in the game coming up.

"Part III Three Sheets to the Wind"

Things very briefly started off peaceful enough, sailing the sea, while the crew chatters. Then a ship approached.

And of course it was our ol' pal, Captain Rottingham.

He wanted my map to Blood Island, so he could get the diamond there--some details Guybrush should have kept to himself back in the barbershop, but it's too late now.

It was time for a duel. This is a major callback to The Secret of Monkey Island with insult sword fighting, except they're on the sea, so the insults have to rhyme.

Rottingham tosses out a couple insults in what's essentially a tutorial but of course I didn't have the correct responses yet, so I lost and Rottingham takes the map.

That gross skin tattoo map... Rottingham was also grossed out. This is what he gets for stealing.

But that leaves us stranded. Guybrush was raring to go get that map back but the crew have another idea first...

It's time! It's time for the pirate song!

youtube

It's ridiculous, I love it so. This was another song dad recorded on tape for listening to while driving. We'd always get a kick out of it and sometimes he'd sing along to parts.

There are a few things from the series as a whole that are just embedded in my brain by this point:

This song

"Hmm...no."

"Ohhh there's a monkey in my pocket and he's stealing all my change! His stare is blank and glassy I suspect that he's deraaanged"

"I think it was a conspiracy. And if there's one type of piracy I don't like it's CONS-piracy." (generally paraphrased when I think of it but from Secret)

"It's a whole bucket of mud. And it's mine...all mine!" (from Monkey Island 2. I dunno why, it just stuck)

Anyway, once the song ended with an orange, it was down to business.

On the ship deck there are two main things to interact with aside from talking to Haggis for a bit of guidance:

-Cannons - they're weak

-The map: how we move!

The whole point of this section is to fight other pirates and learn insults as well earn treasure. Ships will move around the map and when you click one your ship will sail over and initiate ship combat where you fire at each other with cannons.

You just want to avoid Rottingham of course because you can't beat him until you gather some insults and more powerful cannons.

There's an easy mode and a harder mode. I always go for easy ship combat as I'm not really a big a fan of that bit.

You want to earn treasure to buy new and better cannons at Puerto Pollo where...

Kenny has given up his lemonade scam and is now running guns! He's supplied from 'Bob's Big Bore Boomer Brand Cannon, Inc.'

"Can I interest you in some shrapnelizing ammunition designed to bring exquisite pain and unreasonable suffering to all your enemies?"

He's got the:

Buccaneer's Buddy Ouch-Master Holemaker Deluxe Paingiver 2000 Mr. Massacre Destructomatic T-47

Basically: beat a pirate in ship combat, insult sword fight, if you win, get treasure and go spend it, if you lose and still have treasure they take your booty, and hopefully you learn more insults and replies along the way.

Some samples: "You're as repulsive as a monkey in a negligee." (one of the two you start with courtesy of Rottingham) "I look THAT much like your fiancée?" "Throughout the Caribbean my great deeds are celebrated!" "Too bad they're all fabricated."

"I'll skewer you, like a sow at a buffet." "When I'm done with YOU, you'll be a boneless fillet!"

I got all the cannon upgrades and most of the insults. I tried to get them all, but the one I was missing just wasn't coming up and you don't need them all, so I gave up.

I also accidentally ran into a tourist ship and freaked them out, but I was nice and skedaddled.

It was time to face Captain Rottingham and with my shiny new Destructomatic T-47

and easy mode, I took him down with ease and boarded.

Rottingham, like the Sword Master in the first game, has a different set of insults, so you need to figure out which of your stocked up replies will work.

"You'll find I'm dogged and relentless to my prey!" "Then be a good dog. Sit! Stay!"

There are several rounds and you don't have to get every single one right. I did miss one because I didn't have the reply, but otherwise it was smooth sailing and down he went.

Guybrush continues to rhyme every response to Rottingham's comments while Rottingham suffers. It's great. For example:

"You win! You win! You'll get your map back!" "You were doomed from the start, you kleptomaniac!"

"All right! All right! I give up already!" "It's no wonder you lost with a sword so unsteady!"

But all good things come to an end and Guybrush gets the map and returns the ship.

Leading to Part IV: The Bartender, The Thieves, his Aunt, and Her Lover.

And another cutscene as the ship sails off into the sunset, victorious and ready to find Blood Island.

Until a vicious storms hits.

And they can't keep control of the ship, though even the crew actually attempts to help this time...mostly. Haggis was preoccupied with his kilt....and high winds...Y'know, not the best combination.

They end up crashing on shore, but on the shore of Blood Island!

Unfortunately, while everyone is intact, the ship is less so and Haggis informs Guybrush that they're staging a mutiny.

It was a real pleasure serving as his crew, but the voice of the siren is calling them back to cut her hair. They want to return to being barbers. Not much Guybrush can do to protest and all in all a pretty amicable mutiny.

And as for Elaine she got thrown from the crowsnest and landed a little ways off.

Nothing more to do but start exploring, find Elaine, and learn about this diamond ring.

Next time: Blood Island. I love Blood Island!

#monkey island #the curse of monkey island #CMI #CMI_Log #adventure games #LucasArts

2 notes · View notes

dark-ink-drinker · 1 year

Text

Almond was a random find on my Kindle Unlimited. I'd never heard of the book or the author before but the description I head got to me... "This story is, in short, about a monster meeting another monster. One of those monsters is me."

How could I pass that up?

Now that I've finished reading, I can say it's something outside of what I would normally read. It is based in Korea, with Korean references, but there were no problems with that. It was perfectly translated and didn't have any references and uncultured American like myself couldn't understand. It was beautifully written, heartfelt and rich in details. The characters were deep and well rounded. They were imperfect and real in the best of ways.

The main character Yunjae was born with a brain condition called Alexithymia, which means that he doesn't feel or recognize emotions like 'normal' people do... even in the face of great tragedy. As always, I don't want to give away any major plot lines but it's the type of tragedy that would bring the strongest person to their knees.

His mother and grandmother spend their time raising him with love and acceptance but also, always trying to teach him proper reactions to those around him so that he can live normally and not be bullied or teased at school. They are the only real people in his life. His grandmother is where he gets the idea to call himself a monster. "“Maybe it’s because you’re special. People just can’t stand it when something is different, eigoo, my adorable little monster.” Granny hugged me so tight my ribs hurt. She always called me a monster. To her, that wasn’t a bad thing."

In the aftermath of the tragedy, Yunjae finds a whole new circle of people in his life. With them, he learns new things about himself and about the world. For the first time, he makes friends outside of his mother and grandmother. In their own ways, they try to teach Yunjae about feelings and people. They become in circle.

Some of my favorite parts of the book are how Yunjae describes the books in his mother's used book store.

Books that were already drenched in the scent of time. Not new ones that would regularly flow into the bookstores, but ones that Mom could handpick volume by volume. Hence, used books.

To be more specific, I felt connected to the smell of old books. The first time I smelled them, it was as if I’d encountered something I already knew.

Books took me to places I could never go otherwise. They shared the confessions of people I’d never met and lives I’d never witnessed. The emotions I could never feel, and the events I hadn’t experienced could all be found in those volumes.

But books were different. They had lots of blanks. Blanks between words and even between lines. I could squeeze myself in there and sit, or walk, or scribble down my thoughts. It didn’t matter if I had no idea what the words meant. Turning the pages was half the battle.

But books are quiet. They remain dead silent until somebody flips open a page. Only then do they spill out their stories, calmly and thoroughly, just enough at a time for me to handle.

They way he sees himself in books, even if he doesn't relate to the emotions he reads in them is touching to me. Maybe because I've always found solace in books myself. They've always been a place of comfort. They have lots of blanks as he said... for me, spaces we fill in with our own experiences and interpretations. And maybe that's why they were special to Yunjae as well, because they held no expectations for him, they didn't care that he wasn't 'normal'.

Perhaps one of the most poignant ideas of the story was Yunjae saying that Noone can ever know whether a story is happy or tragic. He says it might be impossible to fit so neatly into one category or the other because "life takes on various flavors as it flows." It reminded me of something I'd read before that stated that people are not all good or all bad, and that sometimes the perception comes again from our own experiences. You can be a good person who had done bad things. A life can be happy even with moments of tragedy.

This is absolutely a book I would recommend.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 1/2

#book review #fiction #book recs 2023 #angst #books about loss #books about overcoming #books with unusual themes #books with unusual plotlines #almond #won pyung sohn #korean literature

10 notes · View notes

boxfullaturtles · 9 months

Note

Can you tell about your future Rise Tmnt fic? The crossover one? Is Raph with Jak and Daxter?

Oh!! Yeah I can do that! I'll never write the thing so I don't mind talking about it lol

So it is very much a self-indulgent, "everybody lives" kinda thing. The file for it is saved as "Mikey Saves Everyone But Loses Them in the Multiverse". The plot is thus:

After Splinter dies in the Bad Future, Mikey's like "Nope, no, not losing anyone again." and starts making his own plans. Little by little he starts sorta dripping his own mystic energy into his family with only one order: take them somewhere safe, somewhere far away from the Krang, away from the apocalypse, somewhere they could all be happy and safe. Anywhere but that version of Earth.

And it works!

The second Mikey's body is ripped apart opening the time gate, his own mystic powers snatch up the pieces of him and whisk him away. Yeah, reforming kinda...sucks. But hey! He's alive! And in a city! With no sign of the Krang! But then the processing of being ripped apart and put back together again kind of catches up with him and he passes out. Right as somebody else finds him.

Mikey wakes up in the sewers. In the lair of another group of turtles. His mystic powers have thrown him through dimensions and he's ended up in the lair of the 2007 turtles [because they are my boys and I love them very much and they get no attention]. There's some tension and confusion and probably some nickname shenanigans; I thought it'd be cute if the 07 guys started calling Mikey "Sunny" idk. But anyway, Mikey searches for the energy of his family only to find...they're not in this world. He reaches farther.....and farther.....and farther still. They're scattered. They've been thrown into a bunch of different dimensions. Mikey probably should have been a bit more specific with his mystic energy. But he knows they're alive!

So now it's just a matter of going to get them. And jumping dimensions is going to take a lot of energy and Mikey can't do it all at once. 07 Splinter and the boys say Mikey's more than welcome to use their lair as a place to come back to, since he doesn't have a home. And once Mikey's recovered enough, he reaches towards his first family member and makes his first leap.

I never thought up a specific order for these events to go in, but it would be Mikey storing up enough energy to hop into a dimension, find his family member, and jump back with them to the 07 world. For sure I knew he was going to save his brothers and April, but I wasn't certain about him being able to rescue Cassandra and Draxum? That's a lot of work,,, Maybe Draxum sensed what Mikey was doing and told him not to. Maybe Cass heard them arguing and Draxum told her what was going on and she told Mikey to focus on saving Casey Jr instead. I dunno, I didn't plan that far ahead. I didn't actually figure out where April ended up either :/ There's just too many fun places to put her where she could be so cool and kickass!

Anyway!

Yeah, since this is an excuse for a big crossover with multiple media, I'm not going to take the time to explain all the plots of the other media in detail. So if you're confused uh...wiki? I guess? Also, I figured the way Mikey's powers worked was when his family members died, his mystic powers snatched them up and threw them into a safe place.

So Raph lands in Haven City, from the Jak and Daxter video games. And you might be saying, "But Sage! Haven City isn't safe! Why would the mystic energy put Raph there!?" Ah, but what if this is post-Jak 3? Far enough along that the Metalheads have been driven out, the walls repaired, and the city is rebuilding. So Raph crash lands in Haven and there's some kerfuffle about this big guy covered in scars and looking like he just climbed out of a war zone. Which he did. And he's spooked and the Freedom Guard are spooked and everyone's yelling and poor Raph is just "whoa, hang on, idk what's happening??? who are you??? how did i get here?? ....where is here???"

I really just liked thinking about Raph helping Haven rebuild and feeling good about doing something peaceful. Jak and Daxter probably tell Raph about the history of Haven and at some point I think Raph should get to go to the Wastelands and run loose and punch some Metalheads and throw a car. I can also see him sorta bonding with Torn. They're both veterans, in a way, and probably closer in age. But Raph probably looks at Jak and Daxter and is reminded of his little brothers somehow and he's definitely picked Jak up and walked off with him like "nope, we're done, shut up". He and Torn probably talk about what they're supposed to do without a war going on, if they're not soldiers than what are they, and heavy stuff like that. Raph's not sure if he'll ever see his family again, he's not sure what happened to him or how he ended up in Haven. He's just trying to make the best of a confusing situation.

He's over the moon when Mikey finally shows up. He's so excited to introduce Mikey to his new friends. I never decided if there was a time gap kinda thing; like if for Mikey had lost Raph five years ago, then Raph would have to wait five years in Haven for Mikey to come get him. Or maybe what was five years for Mikey was only six months for Raph or something. Maybe every Hamato spawned in a new universe at the same time. I dunno, never decided. But either way you know there's going to be lots of hugging and crying and shouting. Mikey filling Raph in on everything he's missed. Raph asking about their family. Mikey explaining how he got to Haven and everything. And then probably some tearful goodbyes because it's doubtful that Raph will ever get to see Haven or the friends he's made there ever again.

Leo ends up in Japan, between the Edo and Meiji periods. Pros: he knows some Japanese well enough to get by. Cons: anyone who sees him thinks he's a demon and either runs screaming or tries to stab him. Yeah, he's not too keen on that. So he hides and sneaks around and steals or hunts for what he needs. But people are aware of his presence and they don't want him near their village.

So they call a Mushi Master.

Yeah, Leonardo gets to meet Ginko, from Mushi-shi. ("But Sage, Mushi-shi isn't safe! The mushi--" "Shut up!!! It's my comfort anime and it is calm and beautiful and chill and this is my au I do what I want!")

So Ginko comes to talk to this "demon" (that he's thinking is probably just some mushi or someone who's messed with things they shouldn't). And he finds a bipedal turtle with a sword who's missing an arm and speaks some really janky, broken Japanese. The two of them fumble their way through a conversation until Ginko is able to put together that Leo is not a demon or a mushi and he's from somewhere else and just wants to find his brothers. And they end up traveling together, with Leo heavily disguised and usually hanging back when Ginko gets up to his mushi business. Which, lo and behold, Leo can see mushi too! He thinks they're funny. Ginko smacks him when Leo tries to taste one. ("I've eaten worse." "I don't doubt you, but DO NOT.")

Leo traveling around with Ginko kind of gives him a lot of time to think. He's able to slow down and process things and he actually really mellows out. Spending time with someone like Ginko, just wandering around and taking in the sights, learning about nature and the world, just experiencing it, does wonders for Leo. He's still a traumatized war vet, but just living like he does when he's with Ginko is very healing for him. He still explodes into tears when Mikey comes to get him. Because he thought he'd killed his baby brother and here's Mikey, running to him with open arms, with no malice in him whatsoever over what happened. And Ginko gets to be like "oh lord there's more of them". And maybe Mikey sticks around for a while at Leo's prompting because he knows Mikey would LOVE this mushi stuff. But they do have to leave eventually, they've got a family to get back to. So Mikey probably gives Ginko a hug and thanks him for taking care of Leo and hopes maybe they can meet again someday.

Donnie lands smack dab in the middle of the Motherlobe. Psychonauts HQ. Psychic central. It's...a bit of a rocky welcome. He's panicked, the Psychonauts are panicked, everyone's freaking out and ready for a fight. Not really sure how they resolved that, to be honest, but they probably eventually figure out that Donnie doesn't actually mean anyone any harm, he's just lost and confused and displaced from his home dimension.

Truman and Hollis likely don't want Donnie leaving the Quarry or the Questionable Area, because they're not sure how he wound up in the Motherlobe or how people would react if they saw him. He's a bit pissy about essentially being under house arrest, but there's not much he can do when they've assigned one of the best Junior Agents to keep an eye on him. Donnie probably spends some time trying to shake Razputin but Raz is also a middle child and he's a top tier Psychonaut and he's a stubborn little shit. So eventually Donnie has to concede that he's not going to be able to get rid of Raz and bemoans his fate as Raz follows him literally everywhere.

But he doesn't get to mope for long because there's a lot of interesting things for him to poke his snoot into. The Questionable Area alone is bizarre as hell but then Donnie meets Otto and Sasha and then there's THREE mad scientists in a room and it all goes to hell. In a very spectacular manner, probably. Donnie's infinitely curious about psychic powers and he definitely keeps himself busy, both out of curiosity and because he probably wants to know if these powers can get him home. There's probably some shenanigans with the Brain Tumbler and how people shouldn't try to read Donnie's mind and Milla acting motherly towards Donnie even though they're almost the same age and it makes him feel so small and young and he might sit with her for a while and meditate. They probably talk about losing people. Donnie gets weirdly attached to Raz and then meets Lili and learns she can talk to plants and his botany enthusiasm just goes NUTS.

He does genuinely invest time in trying to find his family, maybe build a portal home. But he's extremely wary about actually building anything; he's worried about it going wrong or, even worse, unleashing the Krang on this unsuspecting world.

So he's relieved when Mikey comes for him and gets all huffy when Mikey immediately makes friends with Raz. But he's happy to see his brother again and he does not cry fuck you Mike. Donnie's probably a little reluctant to let the mysteries he hasn't solved with the Psychonauts go but Mikey just laughs at him and says they can try to come back some day.

And then the whole family gets to reunite! They're all together again! Without war, without the Krang, just with each other! I didn't really have an ending planned for this--maybe they stay with the 07 turtles, maybe they jump between worlds looking for a new home, I dunno.

It's just a silly, self-indulgent au that I will never write but amuses me to think about. Because I think they deserve a happy ending.

I did start replying to this last night but then it was like 10.30 and i needed to sleep lol Sorry about the long post,,,

#sage writes turtles

3 notes · View notes

weekend-whip · 2 years

Note

I am so confused and in shambles dude. From what I've read so far (haven't finished the first book yet) your worldbuilding and characterizations are immaculate! How do you do it?? How would you recommend improving on that type of stuff?

(skdsfjdkjgj my own rewrite is just a mess of random stuff I have no idea how to write characters or properly worldbuild)

Aww thank you!! I dunno how to recommend straight up improvement when everyone’s got different approaches to how they write and how they want to write, buuuut this is kind of my thought process when approaching a project a big as a rewrite that you could try. *-*)9

...this also got a bit long, so I’mma gently tuck it under a cut:

-All those random tidbits you’ve already got, anything at all? WRITE EM DOWN, keep ‘em stored somewhere easily accessible! I’ve currently got like four pages dedicated just for all the small stuff I want to eventually include/scenes I MUST write. It’s good to have a few bare basics to look back on or reference when you’re not sure of how to tackle a scene or what direction you want to take a character/plot.

For example, maybe you want to demonstrate how Kai gradually grows to accept help over time: in what ways does he start to become more comfortable with his team? What moments will stand out as turning points? Or it could even be less specific stuff like “Scene where Nya talks to Zane”. At what point in the plot would that be good to insert? And what would have led up to that moment? Thinking about stuff like that from the get-go will always give you a place to start from, and keeps the ideas flowing. You can always change and tweak later as you develop!

-Outline a general direction of where you want to take the story overall! It can be detailed right down to every paragraph of every chapter, or just simply a “this is how it starts, this is where the middle is, and this is how it ends”. Just give yourself somewhere to start, then figure out how you want to get from Point A to Point B, and it’ll basically write itself! And then if you happened to get stuck going forward, it becomes easier to see where you’re stuck at. Sometimes you’ll have to cut something out because it isn’t flowing, sometimes you’ll have to add more because things aren’t making enough sense! Either way, doing this makes it easier to see potential problems in the plot before you write yourself into a corner (...which I have done a few times).

And if you do find yourself scrapping something, don’t get rid of it completely! Hang onto those ideas/scenes you once tried to include—there’s a good chance you may find another opportunity for them later down the line! It makes it so much less stressful than trying to rewrite from memory too. (Especially in the case where you find yourself overhauling an entire chapter...which I have done. Many times.)

-Make a master timeline of events! Extremely helpful when referencing things that happened in the past, and to sort out potential time-related plot holes before they can occur! (especially in the case of something like Ninjago). Knowing exactly how long ago something happened or how long an event goes on for will do wonders for maintaining consistency. Highly recommend. (I’ve actually got two documents for my timeline because it’s a LOT to keep track of)

-As for actually doing some world building, I must confess, a lot of mine didn’t even fully pop up until I actually began writing the sequel ahahaah. I just knew I wanted the ninja to be aware that their elements were inherited from the get-go, rather than all the way into Season 4...which then spawned the idea for the eye colors, and why it wasn’t common knowledge, and then the entire Elemental Compass came along (which I conceived on the fly, lol, all of that was not in my original design AT ALL), and then how the Guardians were involved, and then how the FSM played into all of that...and now I’ve got a baseline of lore to play with. I guess what I’m trying to say on this front is that sometimes, you don’t have to think so hard about the world-building until it becomes relevant, or until you’re forced to answer a big question like “Why is this the way it is?”

(...and ALL of the above snowballed for me JUST because I had to explain away why the general public and even the Ninja themselves wouldn’t have taken interest in Lloyd’s green eyes when they otherwise should have)

....but fi you’re looking for a more concrete answer, or just want some lore ready from the start, consider how society is structured in your universe. Is there a currency system, or do people barter for goods? Is there one collective language, or is there several, and why? What’s the geography like, is there a reason more people live in one area over another? Figuring out “base” things like that will help you maneuver the characters in the world you create. And in the case of Elemental Powers, well, I suppose that’ll depend on how deep you wanna take your rewrite. Is there an entirely new system for how it works, or are you going to pull from what’s already established (as tangled as it is asdfghj)?

-Characters are a bit trickier; for starters, I’d recommend rewatching the show (for the umpteenth time) to really get a feel for the characters’ mannerisms, speech patterns, and what they’re most likely to do in any given situation. For example, Zane’s obviously got a more posh and concise way of speaking, while Jay and Kai are far more casual and less direct (and the difference between those two is that Kai will often make the situation relevant to himself while Jay’s more prone to go off on a tangent about literally anything). Cole’s speech patterns, meanwhile, depend entirely on the current situation: he’s more firm when in the midst of a mission, but far less formal while chilling around.

Or, another interpretation of mine: when tackling a situation, Kai will almost always act on instinct, which can come off as impulsive depending on what it is. He only stops to think things through when he realizes he’s got the upper hand. Jay will tend to hang back until he sees an opportunity, then drives for it with all he’s got (or he’s otherwise forced to act). Zane will analyze a situation before making any big moves at all, and will adapt his strategy from there (and tends to be caught off guard often because he’s thinking too much). Cole will normally try to assess a situation if he can, but if he’s emotional to any degree, can prove to be just as impulsive as Kai or thought-distracted as Zane.

Something you could do to practice all this, or to find your own ‘flavor’ for the characters would be to write imaginary dialogue between them in any random situation you can come up with–what would they be saying to each other during a chase scene? Or around a dinner table? Or when they’re trying to comfort somebody? How would Kai approach the problem compared to Zane? How’s Jay going to react to it compared to Cole? They’re not always going to agree on everything immediately either, so how would a potential argument go where no one’s really in the wrong? It’s those little nuances that can really make characterization pop, and a lot of it happens subconsciously!

Another thing you can do is read, read, READ other people’s stories! Getting a feel for how others interpret the characters can give you some ideas too (or give you an idea of what you DON’T want to do, lol). But reading does help make it easier to envision a character’s voice when applied to the written word, so that way when you’re writing and trying to nail their nuance, you have something of a baseline to compare to. (A lot of my “baseline” so to speak comes from @/lloyd-skywalkers’ amazing fics and The Fantastic Mr. Walker, actually)

When it comes to applying these characters to your own design though, you’re going to have to extrapolate: you’ve got the basics of the character right in front of you, but there’ll be a time when you’ll have to put them in a situation they’ve never been in before, or feel emotions they haven’t shown a lot of on screen. For example, you’d think Kai would just be a constant ball of rage and frustation and yelling, but I personally have a tendency to make Kai cry far more often. Not as some ooc-replacement for his anger, but precisely because he’s so angry at things. It stems from the insane amount of pressure, standards, and expectations he puts on himself, and the results of how his life had been prior to being a ninja, and because of how much he just wants good things for the people he cares about (and yet, bad stuff just keeps happening). And that makes a least a little bit of sense, right? Technically nothing is out of character, as long as there’s a character-driven/related reason for why it’s happening. So my advice here is, don’t be afraid to see how far you can push with a character. You can achieve a goldmine of character moments by doing this!

AND....uh, I think that’s all I got, for now! Hope this helped even to the smallest degree, and good luck with your own rewrite!

(And if you’re looking for more general writing tips, check the tags! I’m not going to get into that stuff because fanfic allows us to break normal writing conventions and you can be free to explore whatever works for you!)

#legogeek33 #time to take my own advice and finish the sequel adsfghj #ask from nice people

28 notes · View notes