#there are so many great blueprints and maps out there and i thought it would be fun to toss my own hat into the ring | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hypnotisedfireflies · 10 months

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Something I personally really enjoy about your take of Tess and Joel (but especially Tess in particular) is how morally gray you've made them, even before the world ended and before they really had an excuse. I feel like so often people try to make them into these really outstandingly great people pre!outbreak who had to completely start from scratch to adapt enough for survival, which is totally fine!!! am definitely not saying people can't see them how they want especially in regards to a chapter in the story that has no canonical basis. But I just.... really really really enjoy the version you've created where perhaps it actually wasn't that hard to adapt for survival because they already weren't all that great in the first place. It just makes them feel so incredibly human and i just love it so much. Like I never would have came up with Tess have a bit of a drug thing pre!outbreak. I never would have come up with them both being TOO comfortable with the idea of cheating on their loved ones. I never would have come up with Tess not being able to connect to motherhood and the difficulties of that. it's just so interesting and a rather different vibe than what I'm used to seeing in pre!outbreak tessjoel and I love it a lot

Also, I'm super curious about what tour writing process looks like if you're inclined to share! with how you weave your huge stories together so beautifully I'm just curious how you organize all that and all your thoughts, you know?

Honestly, I have the loveliest anons. 🥺💛 Thank you for sharing this with me! The feedback really does encourage and inspire me - I mean, I write what I like to read, so it's a huge boost to know that it is landing with readers, too.

I love writing grey characters because there's so many more places you can take them. Sure, it's fun to write about the white hats tumbling into/resisting darkness but we see that a lot and I don't feel there's much I can add to that fun trope. But grey characters? There's so much you can do with that moral flexibility. I also really like writing characters who are in flux in some way - nobody's ever finished cooking, there's ups and downs and progressions and regressions - exploring that is like crack to me.

I think giving my version of the characters that grey blueprint as a foundation to their personalities helps me to ground them realistically, because it's not such a fantastical leap for them to be able to do certain things or act in a particular way. I think if you're going to survive any length of time in this kind of situation you need to already have a certain set of tools at your disposal (whether that be an arsenal like Bill or a mindset like Tess) or you get lucky (Rachel).

My writing process is kind of ... organic?? I'll have notes for a particular story that I'm working on but I don't have anything bigger than that other than a piss-poor spreadsheet. That just lists significant events, when they happened and the season/year/story/chapter they occurred in. Most of it just lives in my head.

I don't want to sound like an asshole but I don't really have a big plan. Most of the time it just sort of happens. I think it helps that all the characters are fully mapped out in my head and I can reach back into them when I need something. There's so much that has never gotten to page that's in the background to give credence.

So for example, Ricardo might say something that's just a line in a story but I know why he's chosen that particular way to say it. I know Iotama's journey from Outbreak day to Sioux Falls. I know why Tess doesn't talk about her brothers (but that can't come out because Tess doesn't need to explain that to herself or think about why that is, and Joel just flat out doesn't know) but with those details cooking in the background everything is ... I don't know, bigger in my head?

So when it's time to write I just think about what I'd like to read and then build some basic structure around it, think about what I've written before and if there's any way to link it in (most of the time, that just happens when I'm writing) and then if there's any way to "power it externally" with the stuff that's in my head as per the previous paragraph. Then I walk my dog and everything starts to come together.

(Actually, "powering it externally" - you've made me realise something, anon. I'm always writing two stories at once. The one that makes it to page and then the one with that doesn't, all the motivations and backstory that are fuelling what's going on but are never articulated. I hadn't thought about that before, but I'm pretty sure that's what I do).

And then I'll get stuck somehow and think, "That's it! The magic is gone, no more words are ever coming." And then I just either go to bed or write through it, sometimes writing and deleting thousands of words until I find a pathway.

This is why I really like accepting prompts because it challenges me to consider things I might not have otherwise thought of, and stops me getting lazy and just writing what I think I like.

I hope that answers your question anon, and I don't sound like a total nut.

#driftersverse #asks #joel x tess #tessjoel #tlou #tlou fanfic #the last of us #writing process

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samwebsteruniblog · 1 year

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Mapping the world

-Experiments

Using my previous research I decided to start experimenting with the actual map itself and how I can use composition to successfully show my project. These beginning experiments are mostly exploring the actual map an how I can create a polished map that is legible and also aesthetically pleasing.

The First Experiments I made where just quick grabs of the locations on google maps, then I took elements from each one and tried to see how I could make them more legible. The issue I found was that the maps I was looking at recreating had a larger surface area than I need I think using a small area but creating more detail and leaning into the story that took place at each location rather than the journey they took after will be much more successful and really go deeper into the true crime will give me more freedom to complete the typography side of the work.

The quick scale experiments,

I will now look at focusing on each location and find a successful way that I can physically create the maps that help tell the story of each locations famous heist. The next experiment was a quick drawing of one of the locations, after doing this I realised that making it look visually pleasing is going to be harder than I originally thought. These experiments also showed me that I don't want to use too many colours.

From these I also made digital experiments to see if with some editing and manipulation these could look more impressive. These are really quick experiments just to help me come up with an idea to take further and further until I am happy with the outcome. From these first digital experiments I am more interested in the hard background colour as it makes It look similar to a blueprint and if I was to use cyanotype this would help show that.

These digital experiments have shown me that cyanotype is going to create a nice colour to use for the final piece its also shown me that I need to pick a good section to recreate otherwise that map can look shallow. I experimented with the idea of creating something 3D looking to make the map more interesting visually.

I then redid this by hand drawing over the buildings to make it look like they had shadows. This was successful and I really liked how it brought the map into perspective with a bit more life to it.

This is now the style I will be creating, I think 3D maps work really well I will just have to continue experimenting with size, paper and colour. After that I will work on the information and labelling the map. I also messed around with using satellite to create a mix of medians for the map.

On google maps the space that we can see with buildings in is very small so I have had to try and stitch the pieces together or I can do the routes and roads first and then go back through to add detail like the buildings and grasslands.

So from this I drew out another map and then experimented with that digitally and physically however I came to the conclusion that using cyanotype isn't going to look great and will actually distract from the information that is being given.

From my previous post I used my rough layout guides to help me shape potential composition ideas and to help me see if the content looked and worked well at a really basic or rough stage.

My next stage is to refine my map style, adding colours and relevant information for the cases, I will then continue with composition alongside getting an understanding of how to display everything so that means messing around with physical bindings, tracing paper, different medians etc.

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sweetsunflowerkisses · 3 years

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the youtube-ing avenger

Summary: Headcannons for being a younger and newer avenger (like peter) and vlogging your life in the compound.

Warnings : None

(a/n) - I randomly thought of this while watching some Marvel theory videos on YouTube and this little idea popped into my brain so I took it and ran :D I really hate the title though TvT

- so to be honest you started the channel as a dare during a game with Shuri, Peter, Mj and Ned

- and mama didn’t raise a quitter so of course you did it but it actually was a lot of fun so you decided to keep up with it

- SO MANY TOP SECRET STUFF HAS BEEN LEAKED BY YOU AND THIS CHANNEL THOUGH

- the blueprints for Tony’s newest Iron-Man suit? exposed on camera

- Loki’s weird habit of hanging off the couch upside down while he reads? exposed on camera

- Scott’s collection of avengers action figures? exposed on camera

- that map of hydra bases that still needed to be cleared? exposed on camera

- it got to the point where Tony started requiring Bruce to screen all of your videos before you could post them

- why he didn’t just force you to stop making them who knows?!

- (actually everyone does and it’s because he thinks that watching Loki and the avengers get mad or flustered when you catch something embarrassing about them on camera is incredibly funny)

- Steve genuinely supports it as a career path and would prefer it because it’s “less dangerous” than being an avenger

- but let’s be honest the team would be lost without your sarcastic wit and intelligence

- your channel ends up becoming so popular that people start recognizing you more from that than your position as an actual avenger

- when you make videos with other avengers Shuri and Peter are honestly the fan favorites (though Loki and Bucky are close seconds)

- when you collaborate with Shuri it’s usually about showing people, especially women that Tech can be fun and cool ! and lots of kids really look up to shuri

- Peter and Steve like making videos where they try and teach you things like throwing the shield or using the web shooters and the takes of you trying (and failing) usually end up in compilations

- LOKI WILL ALWAYS COLLAB ON PRANK VIDEOS

- he pretends to hate taking time out of his day to do so but it’s very obvious that he enjoys it and it has definitely helped reshape his image in the eyes of the public

- WANDA AND POWER DEMONSTRATIONS

- WANDA AND BEING A BAD ASS

- you definitely once brought your camera on a mission just to film Wanda being cool :3

- SAM AND BUCKY HELPING YOU WITH COOKING VIDEOS

- THEY ARE BOTH GODS AT BAKING AND YOU CAN’T TELL ME OTHERWISE

- ESPECIALLY SAM HE FINDS SO MUCH COMFORT IN MAKING A NICE CAKE ! it def reminds him of when he used to bake with his family as a kid <3

- in the end YouTube, no matter how many times you get reprimanded for exposing thingd you shouldn't, was a great idea and the other avengers are grateful to have it and you brighting their lives just a little !

#avengers headcanon #avengers headcannons #loki x reader #bucky barnes x reader #peter parker x reader #shuri x reader #loki headcanon #bucky barnes headcanon #avengers reader insert #avengers reader headcannon

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crab-instruments · 3 years

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Dust in the Wind Part 11 (tbb)

Master <Part 10 Part 12>

Pairing: Hunter x Secret Jedi! Reader (GN)

Rating and warning: General audience

Words: 3.6k

a/n: we get yelled at and then we go on vacation. fluff happens. v sweet, brush your teeth well after reading. found some resources so now I'll start branching out and giving names to planets! maybe. we also get to hear about 2 characters I made up for the story, one named after another beloved CoD character (the first is Maxis).

“Can you at least say something? Having you glare at me with your arms crossed while I wait in anticipation for a verbal beat down isn’t my idea of a good time.”

Hunter hadn’t said a word to you about your antics. Hadn’t said anything to you, actually. When you got on the ship, he asked Tech to check your wounds and patch you up while Echo got us back into Hyperspace. Then he asked Wrecker to take you to his bunk and from there, everyone seemed to understand that Hunter was going to rip you a new one. Wrecker whispered a “it was nice knowing you” before putting you down in your final resting place.

From what you understood, the mission was a success. It would have likely failed had you not intervened. You did what needed to be done and fast. Quick thinking was a great quality in the field! Yet here you were, waiting to be lectured. The man simmered with anger, frustration, and stress, practically radiating hostility without words. His half-tattooed face started to look less like a skull and more like a warning.

Hunter sighed and looked away for a moment, releasing some of the energy he was accumulating.

“Do you know how stupid that was? You jumped in without a single thought of how it would interfere with the mission.” His voice was curt, sharp like a knife, but you could tell he was holding back.

“Not doing anything when I could help would—”

“You’re not listening, Maxis.” His voice was steady, a practiced anger. His voice wasn’t louder but held more fierceness than before. “Not only did you have no concern for your safety but no regard for the rest of the squad. If you got captured or gave away our position, the mission not only could have been compromised, but…” Hunter stopped, avoiding ‘what ifs’. He then adjusted his bandana and ran a hand through his hair before securing it again. “Why?”

“Why what? You’re going to have to be specific. I did many things where that question could apply to.”

“Why did you do any of it? Why didn’t you at least wait for my approval?”

You rolled your eyes, the first time you felt this was unfair. “The approval that would never have come? I was there when you all planned this, and it was down practically to the minute. Schematics, blueprints, and maps, I studied them with you. When you got in a jam, I saw an opportunity to get you back on schedule and fast, so I took it. Most of your work was in the factory, not outside, so I knew to at least stay above ground. You said so yourself, this mission was important, and I took it seriously.” After you finished, you slumped back, realizing that he could take your backtalk as disrespect.

Hunter took a moment to think about it. You could tell he was flip flopping between wanting to commend you on your quick thinking and wanting to argue with you about getting involved so thoughtlessly.

In the silence, you decided to push your luck once more, so you cross your arms and leaned back against the wall. In a deep voice and terrible accent, you mockingly said, “’Oh thank you Maxis, it was really cool of you to step in like that, saved us time and effort.’ Oh no problem, Sarge, I do what I can, glad I could help.”

His eyes were intense, and you were sure you were about to learn how quick he was at killing, but instead all he did was reply, “I don’t sound like that.”

You scrunched up your face and said, “you do a little bit, yeah,” as you showed as much with one of your hands.

Finally, his whole body relaxed as he changed positions, so he wasn’t leaning or crossing his arms, his demeaner changing to a more open one. “You’re insufferable, Maxis. I am trying to be mad at you for putting your life on the line and being absolutely reckless. I already went through this with Omega and it’s not easier a second time. You’re right, I and the entire squad are thankful for what you did, it was extremely irresponsible but probably saved the entire mission.

“I just don’t understand. One second, you’re a mechanic, the next, you take out four troopers by yourself. I look away for one second and you’re taking a speeder for a joy ride over a canyon.” He took a breath for a moment, placing words to the emotions that rattled in his head. “I told you I’d keep you out of danger, but I can’t do that if you invite danger in like that. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Your mouth felt dry. “Then what do you want?”

Hunter sighed; this was too much emotional talk for the man, it was clear in his entire disposition. “I want you safe. If you want to be more than a mechanic when a mission calls for it, it’s clear you’d be a great asset to the team in skill, but you haven’t shown you can communicate with us when it matters. It’s hard to trust your life with someone who won’t listen or someone who doesn’t trust you with their name…” his voice trailed off and it went silent.

“(Y/N).”

Hunter snapped his neck to look directly at you. “What?”

“It’s my real name. I’m not ready to use it again but… I can see how much you care for your squad and how hard it must be to keep it together as the leader. I’m… not sorry for jumping in but I am sorry for making your job harder, for making you worry. To show my commitment, that I’m going to do what it takes from now on, I’m telling you my real name.”

Hunter blinked, stunned. After a moment, he whispered your name back, making sure he remembered it. You nodded, stood up, and extended your arm out. “Sergeant Hunter, it would be an honor to fight by your side.”

He beamed, chuckling a little before taking your arm. “Glad to have you, (Y/N). Now rest, Maxis. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir”.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was a bit of a longer trip back to Ord Mantell, while you did relax for some of it, you ended up getting restless, so you would spend time with Omega. She was particularly interested in the details of your dramatic speeder bike incident, so much so that she requested it almost like a bedtime story.

“So, I stood above the fuel, looking for something to light a fire with. I was digging in my pockets just like this when BAM! The door to the facility opened—”

“The guards saw you!”

“Yep, I was lucky Crosshair had my back, he shot the fuel for me, starting the fire.” The sniper, who was half paying attention the story, huffed in response.

“You’ll have to teach me about speeder bikes sometime so I can do that, too.”

You looked down at Omega, who sat between your legs. “You’d look really cool with a speeder, I think. Get you a helmet and a matching bomber jacket. The coolest Loth-cat in the Outer Rim.”

Echo looked up from his holopad. “Where did you learn to drive a speeder like that, Maxis? You’d have to be pretty skilled to outmaneuver all those guards and jump the gap.”

Oh, I just happened to pick the bike of a racer and used his memory to have an impromptu podrace. No big deal.

You realized it had been a second too long, making for an awkward silence. To cover yourself, you chuckled lightly, trying to play it off. “Well, when you watch too many holoshows in your down time, you can get wild ideas of what’s possible. I just sat on the bike and really felt like I knew what to do and the limits of the bike. I’ve ridden plenty of speeders before so it’s not like I was going in blind. It was probably also the adrenaline.” Not a total lie, you did feel how the owner drove it. You probably couldn’t do it again, though.

Omega yawned and you used that as an excuse to escape to the gunner’s mount to nap for a bit, escaping more questions.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The Batch decided that after that last mission, the group needed a break and Hunter asked Cid of a possible planet that would be suitable. Soon after, you and the squad were on your way to Hitaka. It was a small farming planet and not as affected by the Empire, at least not yet.

The Havoc Marauder landed on lush green grass. The ship was nicely tucked away in a clearing in a forest, not too far from a town.

Hunter gave relative freedom to the crew, although everyone was meant to be back at the ship by sundown. He requested that those who wondered into town to let him know first and that they would wear civvie clothing to blend in. The boys went to explore the forest, you however, were still somewhat injured and couldn’t travel far. Omega decided to keep you company for a bit, though Hunter was never far.

The grass was half Omega’s height in some areas, and she enjoyed running through it, chasing the native bugs of the planet. She wanted to study them, taking notes for research similar to Tech. After little success of getting close to them, you offered to try and have one land in your hand so she could take her notes.

You closed your eyes and reached out with your hand, palm facing up. You then reached out with the force gently, connecting with one of the firefly like insects. It perched on your hand peacefully and Omega watched in awe. She came close but was careful not to spook the bug as she jotted notes down on her holopad. You yourself studied the insect. It had three sets of long iridescent wings, a thin body, six legs, and kaleidoscope eyes. After a moment, it flew by, joining a group of them in the wind.

While Omega continued her notes, you started to pick at some of the wildflowers near you, neatly weaving them into a circular shape. It took a few tries since it had been a while, but you made a flower crown. While Omega was still nose deep in the holopad, you silently put the crown on her head and giggled.

“Wha-what’s this?”

“It’s just a flower crown, have you never made one?” As soon as you asked, you realized what a stupid question that was. Of course not, she was stuck in a lab on Kamino all her life.

“No, I never really got to do anything like this. Can you teach me how?” The earnest on her face warmed your heart.

“Of course, Omega. I bet the boys haven’t ever had a flower crown before. Let’s make them each one, how does that sound?”

Omega took her job of collecting flowers very seriously, attempting to match the flowers to each Batch member. Red for Hunter, orange and yellow for Wrecker, purple for Echo, blue and dark purple for Tech, and white and green for Crosshair. She followed your instructions carefully, attempting to make the best flower crowns like her life depended on it. Omega concentrated so hard; she didn’t notice you had taken a few photos with her holopad. It brought you great joy in giving Omega a small little bit of childhood, away from the war and now away from the Empire. You also had your childhood taken from you, starting your Jedi training very young, and while you tried not to resent it, you didn’t wish it on anyone else.

“Maxis?” Omega was staring at you.

“Oh, sorry Omega. I was just thinking about something. Are you all done? The boys will have to be back soon.”

She nodded and grabbed the crowns, handing some to you, and you both slowly made your way back to the Marauder. Hunter was already there, sitting on the ramp. Omega took this chance to run up and put the crown on him, but he was much too quick.

“Whoa hey. What’s this?”

“It’s a crown, I made it, so you have to wear it.” You could see Hunter break down to her begging eyes. She had a gift, that child. Hunter leaned his head over and accepted the crown with as much dignity as a war-torn soldier bending to the will of a child could. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as he met your eyes.

Wrecker, Echo, and Tech were the next to arrive, which were the three you had in hand. Wrecker saw Omega’s and wanted one instantly, so he kneeled as you placed in on your head. Tech was a bit more reluctant, but Wrecker punched him in the shoulder and that seemed to convince him. Echo was honored to take the crown, admiring the craftsman ship the both of you had put into them. Crosshair must have seen what was happening and attempted to avoid being bestowed a crown, but Omega caught him before he could sneak on the ship.

As you talked with Tech about the insects you saw, you were interrupted by Hunter clearing his throat. “Uh, Maxis?”

You turned around to face him. He had somewhat of a shy expression, even showing on the tattooed side of his face. Silently, he pulled a crown out from behind his back, one with red and white flowers. “Uhm, Omega realized you hadn’t made one for yourself, so…”

You blinked, looking at the crown. But why did Hunter have it? After a moment, you bowed and accepted the crown. With a smile you asked, “how do I look?”

Hunter sucked in a breath and said, “Beautiful.” Your smile grew wider. This was a moment you would remember forever.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next day was spent mostly on repairs, cleaning out the dust from the last mission, running diagnostics, and checking weapons and supplies.

You found yourself laying in the grass, Echo next to you, as you both worked under the belly of the ship. It was pleasant, a soft floor compared to the rough concrete you’re used to on Ord Mantell.

“If it’s not too personal… how’d you join the Batch?” You asked, filling the silence.

Echo hesitated but started talking before you could take it back. “I was on a mission and got caught in an explosion. The Separatists kept me alive me and did experiments, turning me into a cyborg. That’s why, if you’ve noticed, I only have one real arm.”

You stopped your work and looked at him, eyes wide. “No way. Why didn’t you tell me you had a scomp link for an arm?” He looked back at you before you both started laughing.

“My legs were replaced as well as my neural and respiratory system. Eventually Rex, my Captain, found me along with the Batch. After we won the battle on Anaxes, Hunter offered me a place here.” After a beat, he asked, “what was your time like in the GAR, before the Clones?”

Oof, now it was your turn to share an uncomfortable story. “I was… scouted from a young age. I worked closely with a Jedi and his Padawan. His Padawan, Mara, was a hot head. She loved everything that came with being a Jedi and really believed she was invincible and could do no wrong. Her master, Valek, couldn’t quite get Mara to be pragmatic and level-headed. She was just too ambitious and naive when it came to the war with the Separatists, never fully grasping what happens to those who live on the war-torn planets. Always short sighted, not seeing the bigger picture.” You sighed, thinking about the arguments you had with her. This was not something you could share with Echo, as the Jedi would have been higher rank than you in his eyes.

“This all changed during a battle where a Sith got involved. Mara challenged the Sith Lord, thinking she could handle anything but was quickly outmatched. Master Valek sacrificed himself to save his Padawan and the squad escaped, however, Mara lost a leg due to that battle. She never was the same, full of everything the Jedi teach younglings to never be. She never got past the defeat. Not long after, I left.” Echo sat quietly, your words sinking in.

“Well, anyway,” you changed your tone, giving a different feel to the atmosphere, “we’re almost done here. If we did this all correctly, we shouldn’t hear a clanging noise when idling. Flip that switch on your panel but wait one sec—” Echo did not wait one second and the release on your end opened. A puff of grime and dirt blasted on your face. Luckily, you were wearing your googles, but the rest of your face was covered. You tried your best to wipe it off with your hands, but no amount would remove it, only spread it around.

Echo sputtered out some sorry’s but couldn’t contain his laughter at your misfortune. You glared at him after removing your googles. “When you stop being a wastoid, grab me a towel. I’ll finish this up real quick, so you don’t humiliate me again.” You couldn’t stay angry, a smile still taking over your face. It took him a minute because of his giggles, but he disappeared onto the ship. You closed the panels up and started to get out from under the ship, although you waited until you could clean your face.

“Maxis? What’s wrong? Echo said you needed my help so—” Instinctively, you turned to Hunter’s voice and immediately regretted it. He froze in place, and you could tell he was trying not to laugh. Your body went ridged and you ripped the towel he had in his hands, muttering a few choice words about Echo. He knew you had a weakness, and you were going to make him pay.

After wiping your face, you went to clean your googles. Hunter spoke up, “Ah, you missed a spot, on your cheek.” You went to wipe it, but Hunter shook his head. “No, not—Here.” He took the towel with one hand, grabbed your chin with the other, and wiped. You stared in each other’s eyes a moment after he got it. Time seemed to stop and breathing became difficult. Am I going insane? I think I’m going insane.

To snap yourself out of it, you said, “oh I think you have something on your face too, let me get it.” You wiped some of the dirt you had on your hand on to Hunter’s non-tattooed face. You couldn’t hold back the smile that spread across your face, giving you away.

Hunter’s eyes went from soft to playful. Before he could say something, Echo called him back to the ship, saying Tech needed his help again. Echo had a huge knowing smirk when he appeared in front of you, so you threw the towel in his face.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The Batch was due to leave in the morning, so everyone was attempting to relax and explore a little while longer. You wandered around and found Crosshair shooting some targets. You stayed back a bit, thinking of how you could ask him to give you a few pointers on shooting.

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to say something?” His voice startled you.

“Oh uh, I was hoping you could help improve my shooting. I was never really good at it but you, being the best marksman ever, could probably give some good advice.” You hoped the sweet talk would help convince him.

He stared back at you, thinking about the request. After a moment, he straightened and offered his sniper rifle.

“I meant with like… a normal blaster.”

“Might as well start with the best, darlin’.” Take what you can get.

You stepped closer and took the rifle. The rush of emotions and memories almost forced you to drop the gun, you gritted your teeth and did your best to work through the force echo. It was painful, memories from when he was with the Empire and away from the Batch, alienated. It felt like a whole was blasted in your chest. The numbness he felt spread through you and mixed with resentment. Your eyes shot open, and you took a gulp of air.

You didn’t know how long the echo lasted, but it was long enough for Crosshair to wonder if you lost your mind. “You okay? It’s not that heavy.” Dude, are you okay? These feelings are rough and not something people should handle alone!

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” you said with a shake of your head. To prove everything was totally fine, you looked down the scope and aimed at a few of the targets. With expert precision, you knocked out each and every one, even one that was moving. Every shot was clean… and too professional.

The sound of a toothpick snapping was the moment you realized you messed up. Your breath caught in your lungs as you realized you had used the force echo to shoot the targets with Crosshair’s skill. Being as subtle as you could muster, you aimed for one last one and missed horribly on purpose.

You met Crosshairs distrustful glare with a sheepish smile. “What was that?” His voice was low, dripping with suspicion.

“Beginner’s luck?”

“Beginner’s don’t take out targets with that sort of accuracy. Try again.”

Before you could come up with another lie, Wrecker called out to the two of you, saying dinner was ready.

Crosshair snatched the rifle from you. “This conversation isn’t over.” He walked toward the camp without a second glance.

That night, you intentionally stayed as far away from Crosshair as possible, avoiding the daunting chat with the sniper.

Part 12

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Tag List:@rintheemolion @xxspqcebunsxx @salamidraws @lokigirlszendaya @jinxedleo @dionysuskid21 @awkwardwookie

If you want to be added to the tag list, just ask in the most convenient way for you or by faxing me a picture of a crab

#dust in the wind #hunter x reader #hunter x you #tbb x you #tbb x reader #the bad batch x reader #bad batch x reader #crab fics

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spinchip · 4 years

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As in Lonesome South

Summary: After returning to Ninjago from that Lighthouse prison, Dr. Julien decides it's time for him and his son to move on.

Warnings: Dr. Julien is not a good dad. Memory alteration and Controlling behavior. ask to tag? Pairing: gen Wordcount:1700 A/N: The name for this fic comes from Hillbilly Man by Gorillaz lol

Packing up his meager room is not a difficult feat, Dr. Julien is glad to note, even in his advanced age. He doesn’t have many belongings now, his life spread out across Ninjago and across the sea, the things left behind and abandoned worthless in his eyes now that he’s been reunited with his son. His greatest creation. It’s not as if he couldn’t stop by that ancient bunker out in Birchwood Forest and gather up his old blueprints, maybe pick up projects left half-finished as his hands wrinkled and gave out, but there’s a clean and simple sort of appeal to a fresh start. Out with the old, in with the new. He had time to start again now. He and Zane could travel down to the outskirts of Metalonia, there’s raw materials there, new construction. Its growing fast with the upcoming tech giant Borg Industries basing it’s manufacturing plants in the heart of the city. It’s an easy place to get lost in, an old man and his son blending in with the crowd, a perfect spot to camp out at and get back to work inventing something new. Something to show up all those slip-shod messes he’d slapped together to appease Samukai.

In a way though, he can’t help but be grateful to the skulkin and his cronies. Without the elixir of life they’d handed him, without the resurrection tea poured down his throat, he’d have been lost years ago. The gift they’d given him had come with a price, seasons passing wondering if his son was safe out in the world without him, stuck up in that lighthouse tinkering away at inventions he felt no passion for. All alone except for the silly little bots he cooked up in his spare time. Now thought, free from the sea salt and stone, he had time laid ahead and a million projects he thought he’d never have the years for suddenly at his fingertips. Zane was his life’s work, and he’d turned out wonderfully. What could he do now, with another life to dedicate?

Organizing his meager things, he pulls out a duffle bag from the School's storage with DARKLEYS slapped on the side, not quite dusty but on its way there with the rebranding they were undergoing. Gutting the School’s unsavory past and installing a new, more healthy learning environment was a big endeavor for the ninja, especially since they wouldn’t be able to rely on his son to help pull it off. He and Zane pitched in when they could, helping repaint, clean up, and discuss a new curriculum, but it was a shame they’d never get to see it come to fruition. It reminded him of his days teaching to pay the bills while he chased his masters degree, there was a comforting nostalgia he almost didn’t want to leave. A shame it was time to go. Zane might have been a good teacher, too, if given the chance- he was as smart as his old man sometimes! Remarkably patient too, always willing to try and talk it out and find the best in people. Too bad. Maybe they could come back and visit, if work didn’t get too busy. He wouldn’t mind getting into the swing of things and whipping up a lecture for the kiddos. He could decide all that later, though. Now it was time to pack. He shakes out the bag and stacks his items neatly inside: a few notebooks of ideas he’d already cooked up, spare clothes Zane and Sensei Wu had graciously paid for, a few old books from the Library he was positive no one would miss. He was even sure to grab a copy of Zanes old favorites, maybe he’d like to read them again when they got settled. He made a mental note to grab his toothbrush and comb from the bathroom before they departed, puttering about his meager living accommodations to make sure he hadn’t missed anything.

The room itself was a modest little thing, an old student live-in dorm repurposed into more permanent lodging for himself and Zanes other team members. They were nice, a bit more long-term than he thinks Master Wu is willing to admit, but Dr. Julien found them quite cosy. Though anything was a step up from that damp and dreary prison he’d been locked in. He’d always loved the beach, but if he never smelled salt water ever again it’d be a blessing… He frowns, stepping over to the map spread out across his tiny desk, mapping out a possible route down to Metalonia. Sticking to the outskirts would take them closer to the coast, but setting up shop in town might bring unwanted attention. It could be worth it to take the longer route along the east if he really wanted to avoid the sea… it’d put him close to Ignacia, but it might work.

There’s a knock on the door, bright and sharp, and Dr. Julien isn’t surprised when he hurries over and opens the door to his son on the other side, “Zane!” He greets warmly, ignoring the troubled look on his face and pulling him into an embrace, “Have you finished packing yet?” He asks, breaking away.

“That is what I came to speak to you about.” Zane says hesitantly as his father begins to tidy up the room, closing the door behind him for privacy despite the others doing their best to give them space and clearing out for this conversation, “Father, we have discussed this, I…” He frowns openly, “I do not wish to leave.”

Julien stops where he’s folding up his map, staring up at his son with a scrutinizing look, “Zane, I thought you said you didn’t want to be separated from me again? Are you feeling alright, son? Come here, let me check.” He beckons Zane over as he tucks the map into his coat pocket, moving out of the way so he can sit on the edge of the mattress for a diagnostic.

Zane obliges on instinct alone, sitting down, “I am fine, Father,” He says, moving his gi aside to open his chest panel anyway, “And I do not want to be apart, which is why I think you should stay.” Dr. Julien moves to sit next to his son, running a quick inspection of Zanes internal wiring as he speaks, and Zane zeroes in on the way he collapses onto the bed- his knees aren’t what they used to be, “At your age, you shouldn’t be traveling anyways.” He says, obviously trying to be gentle.

Dr. Julien laughs, smiling up at his son as he shifts through the mechanics in a confident routine so familiar it came second nature, memories of them going through these exact motions surfacing faintly, “You don’t need to worry about me, Zane, I have plenty of time left. The ressurectea has given me another lifetime, and I want to spend it with you. It could be like it was before, just the two of us. I was happy.” He examines the connection points on his switchboard, making sure they’re all attached properly, “Weren’t you?”

“Of course!” Zane says instantly, cupping his father's hands to send the confirmation home, “I love you, and I’ve missed you ever since I got my memories back.”

“But now you want to go our separate ways?” He squeezes Zanes fingers, before letting go, going back to his ministrations inside his chest to distract himself, “You and I are family, Zane. I’m disappointed you want me to spend my final years alone.”

Zane shrinks, curling in on himself at those words. Dr. Julien has to hold onto the door of his chest panelling so he won’t pull away too far, where he can’t complete his check-up, “I don’t. I am sorry.”

“Come with me.” He insists, smiling up at Zane as if to say all will be forgiven. They would be, these moments of hesitance. He could let them go.

The checkup is comfortingly familiar, but Zane shakes his head, “My friends are here, they are my family too. I cannot leave- I have responsibilities. I am the white ninja, I am protecting people who cannot protect themselves. Is that not what you wanted?” his vocal processor goes small at the end, soft and uncertain.

“It is, and you’ve done a great job. I’m so proud of you, but now it is time for us to move on to better things… You’re my son, Zane. My greatest creation. I love you, and I won’t leave here without you.” Dr. Julien trains his eyes on his inner workings, his hands stilling, a slight nod as a silent decision is made.

“And I am not leaving.” He says firmly, his own decision giving his words strength, then, “Will you stay?” Zane’s voice has the slightest hint of hope, complex emotions coming so easily now that he’s lived a long and complex life. A shame to lose all that progress.

He sighs deeply, a sad put-upon thing, “No, Zane.” and there’s no need to elaborate.

He watches his facial expression as he does it, half a second of shock and raw hurt, a snap of devastation and fear before his mechanics register that the memory switch has been flipped, the click of it near deafening in the room- the expression vanishes, his wide eyes go glassy and half-lidded and his jaw clenches shut, his body locking and freezing as he goes into limbo. Shoulder stiffly casual, his hands dropping into his lap where they’d made a last-ditch attempt to stop this and stalling short, sitting open and useless on his thighs. All at once his humanity is stripped from him, leaving him a blank canvas, empty and waiting for either a reboot or specific command. He was his son. He was his creation. He was his.

Dr. Julien closes up his chest panel calmly, tying his suit back up properly. He’d need new clothes, these would make him ask questions when he reset him. Dr. Julien didn’t want questions. He didn’t want refusals.

“Come now, Zane.” He says, tapping the nindroid on his forehead, watching those hazy eyes try to focus while in forced stasis. There’s nothing behind his eyes, no recognition other than the need to obey that has been programmed into him, “Follow me. It’s time for us to go.”

Zane carries his bag as they walk right out the front door.

#zane julien #dr. julien #ninjago #spinchip fic #memory alteration

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jumukus · 3 years

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A3! Event: Trump the Phantom Thief Episode 8 Translation

Play time! A heads up on the characters' names:

Muku: King Yuki: Q Kazunari: Ace Juza: Jack Banri: Fox Sakyo: Club

Saionji: Muku-kun, how are you doing? Are you getting seasick?

Muku: I'm doing alright, thank you. Oh, and the room is so beautiful.

Saionji: I am glad it is to your liking. We purposely built the suite rooms in a place where you can't feel the ship's motion.

I am planning to take every possible measure for the theater venue as well, though do not hesitate to let me know if you are unsatisfied with anything.

Muku: I will. Thank you.

Kazunari: Dude, not only the suite rooms are superbs, but to think we also get a whole staff to ourselves…! We can even get the beverages here as many times we like!

Yuki: True. The service is just so good it surprised me.

Sakyo: Don't get too engrossed in these service or you'll be havin' a hard time once we return to Mankai Company.

Izumi: You have a point…

Banri: I don't wanna go back.

Juza: ...I'm thirsty.

Muku: Wanna get some beverages in our rooms?

Juza: No, it's fine. Our rooms are far from here.

Azami: There's a lot of vending machines there. I think they have your favorite strawberry milk.

Juza: I'll go get it.

Muku: …

Izumi: (Today is finally our opening show. I knew it. They all seem pretty nervous because we're going to perform in a different venue.)

Juza: …

Izumi: (Juza-kun looks stiff.)

Kazunari: OK, guys! We've gotta form a circle in times like this!

Banri: Be more specific. What d'you mean by "in times like this"?

Yuki: Bet you already thought of what kind of circle you wanna do.

Kazunari: Righty right! Since our play is about phantom thieves, we all should strike a phantom thief pose!

Sakyo: The heck is that?

Kazunari: No complaining! Just follow me!

Yuki: Fine. Fine.

Juza: ...Muku, do the chant.

Muku: First things first, I'm sorry for causing you guys troubles when I was at a loss of what to do.

I don't want to give up on all the things I want to do. I've decided to do everything I can in all of them.

I'll run through until the end. Follow me, guys!

Juza: Yeah!

Kazunari: Okie!

Banri: Yea.

Q: "It's as musty as always."

Ace: "Clean it up."

Q: "How about you do it?"

Ace: "No way. Geez. This place used to be clean, wonder what happened to it."

Q: "That's because we had a clean-freak before."

Ace: "Okay. Leader, you do the cleaning."

King: "I think it's pretty clean, though."

Q: "Seriously?"

Ace: "Should've known a messy room owner like Leader would say something like that."

Q: "Anyway. Since this is the first time we gathered here after a year, that means you've already set our next target, right? Let's cut to the chase already."

King: "Our next target will be "Mermaid's Tears", a 12-carat diamond."

"It's going to be sold during an auction held at the Royal Star cruise. It's one of the event's highlights and expected to sell for 6 billion."

Ace: "Woo-hoo."

Q: "Heh. Interesting."

King: "Royal Star is currently hiring staff. Q."

Q: "Got it. That means I have to sneak in as one of their staff members, right?"

King: "Ace, get close to the ship's captain and collect information."

Ace: "Roger."

Izumi: (I expect no less from Summer Troupe. They have great teamwork. I can totally feel it.)

(Not to mention Muku-kun's King is able to unite them as a leader.)

Q: "I'm in charge of the rooms in Block A… Laundry and… Ugh. What a hassle."

"This isn't my job in the first place, after all. If that person were here--."

Crew Member: "Are you new here? You seem lost."

Q: "Yes. I don't think I can get out of this place if I lose the map."

Crew Member: "You can ask anyone if there's anything you don't understand."

Q: "Thank you."

"?"

Crew Member: "What's wrong?"

Q: "I think I saw someone over there--."

Crew Member: "But there's only a garbage can over there. Is it a ghost or something?"

Q: "Hey. Stop. I don't like it."

"Hm? A letter?"

"Could this be--I have to report to King."

King: "I'll take the Mermaid's Tears--Jack."

Ace: "Can't believe he's aiming for the same thing."

Q: "Him and King sure are compatible in a strange way."

Ace: "Even though their personalities are the exact opposite of each other."

Q: "What are we going to do now?"

Ace: "Guess we're gonna have a change of pla--."

King: "We'll continue the operation."

Q: "Come again!?"

Ace: "So you mean we're gonna compete with Jack?"

King: "I will not send out this notice. Let's call it a direct confrontation between Trump and Jack."

Q: "Whaaaat!?"

Jack: "Weird. The cops aren't on the move."

"Hm? Where's my noti--."

"It's been a while. How about a reunion? At The Mermaid's Tears' chamber. Trump."

"King, huh… It's just so like him to do something like this. Fine. Let's have a showdown."

Fox: "Here. I got what you wanted, the Royal Star's blueprint."

King: "It is indeed the blueprint."

Fox: "I got you some addition as well. This one is a lil bit pricey."

King: "Figured as much."

Fox: "What are you going to do with this information, though?"

King: "It's prohibited to poke your nose into your client's private life."

Fox: "Oops. My bad. I was curious since you rarely asked for something like this. Oh, yeah. Your master said he wanted to see you."

King: "Club? I wonder why. I'll try contacting him."

Club: "I'm comin' in."

Fox: "Speak of the devil."

King: "Long time no see."

Club: "Perfect timing. Are you free now?"

***

Club: "I'm goin' to retire soon. Take whatever you need."

King: "Retire? Are you serious?"

Club: "My body is startin' to fall apart. It's an age thing. Tell this to Ja--Oh, right. I heard you two broke up."

King: "You made it sound like we're dating. Please don't do that. He just decided to quit my group on his own."

Club: "Y'all never change. Here I thought you'd keep workin' together. That's what you call youth, I guess."

King: "To be honest with you, I'd also never thought he would betray me."

Club: "Looking at that guy, I think he's in his rebellious phase rather than betrayal."

King: "Rebellious phase?"

Club: "He's got some strong sense of rivalry, y'know? Add that with the fact that he's never won against you."

"He must be jealous of you. You're a genius, while he can only do things in a crude way."

King: "Really? I like his way of doing things, though."

Club: "That's exactly why you're hated. Oh, well. You better make up before I die."

King: "Please tell that to him too. You're going to meet him after this anyway, right?"

Club: "You're right. Guess I'm also gonna tell him directly. Both of you are my most excellent apprentices, after all."

King: "Please take this as my present for your retirement. This one is 40 years old."

Club: "You sure are well prepared."

King: "I was actually planning to use it for the celebration party, though."

"--Oh, right. If you're going to retire, please give me that. You know, the 'Venus Ring'."

Club: "I refuse."

***

Fox: "Welcome. Man, I guess we've got a lot of 'speak of the devil' moment today."

Jack: "What are you saying?"

Fox: "Nope. Forget it. Anyway, this is your requested uniform and safe."

Jack: "Thanks."

Fox: "Oh, yea. Your master said he wanted to see you. Why don't you give him a call?"

***

Jack: "Long time no see."

Club: "Hey. Is it just me or did you lose some weight?"

Jack: "What do you want to talk about?"

Club: "I'm gonna retire soon. Take whatever you need."

Jack: "Whatever you need, huh. By the way, the 'Venus Ring'..."

Club: "Y'all really have the same taste. I ain't gonna give it out. I sent it to the right place."

Jack: "By y'all… Do you mean King?"

Club: "You should just go back and regroup with him."

Jack: "I'll never go back until I win against him."

Club: "What a pig-headed kid. So? You see any chance to accomplish that?"

Jack: "I have a feeling we're finally going to settle this soon."

Club: "Heh. You seem confident."

Jack: "Because I've made arrangements ahead of time."

Club: "That's so you. You still look as gloomy as ever, though. Why don't you go soaking up the sun in some warm places in the south once in a while?"

Jack: "No--But you have a point. Maybe I'll do that once this is over."

Club: "Do that. And make up with King."

Jack: "...It depends on him."

Guard A: "Wait there."

Guard B: "This place is restricted to authorized personnel."

***

Q: "'Mermaid's Tears' has been carried away."

King: "Got it. Looks like they put it at the expected place."

Q: "How about the security? Can you unlock it?"

King: "I've already made preparation for that. We just need to see how things will turn out."

Ace: "Hey, wait a sec. Please, King."

King: "Find out the schedule for the guards' lookout."

Q: "Ugh. What a pain. Why do I have to do this…"

***

Q: "The guard will change at 1 P.M. The key will only be handed over when a substitute comes."

King: "So we need that key and the password that the captain has to unlock the door."

Q: "Ace, gain some time for us."

Ace: "Roger. Leave it to me."

Q: "Don't screw up."

***

Ace: "Hey, good work."

Guard A: "You're here sooner than I thought."

Ace: "Boss said my shift would start 30 minutes earlier since I'm always late, you see. Today I got here on time, though."

"Oh. Don't tell me you're gonna get scolded if you end your shift early? Wanna have some chat for thirty minutes then? Man, being a guard sure is easy."

"I actually want to increase my shift more, you know. But I don't reall--."

Guard A: "No, it's fine. I'll end my shift now. Bye."

Ace: "Oh. Okay, then. Bye."

***

Ace: "Mission complete. It's your turn now, King."

King: "Let's see, now. This is unexpectedy such a hassle~."

Ace: "I'm glad you seem to be having fun but please hurry up."

***

Q: "It's almost been thirty minutes."

King: "Just a little bit more…"

Q: "The guard is coming."

King: "I'm counting on you, Ace."

***

Ace: "Hey.."

Guard B: "Hm?"

Ace: "Ouch ouch ouch…"

Guard B: "What's wrong?"

Ace: "Oh, are you the substitute? Thank God. I'm starting to panic since my stomach is killing me. Good bye!"

Guard B: "Hey, wait, the key--."

Ace: "Key? Oh, right. I've gotta hand it ove--ouch ouch ouch."

Guard B: "Hey, you okay?"

Ace: "Wait a minute. Just until I calm down. Ouch ouch ouch…"

Guard B: "F-For now, just go to the toilet first."

Ace: "Don't think that's possible. I feel like it's gonna come out once I move."

Guard B: "Whaaat!?"

Ace: "Do you have some medicine or anything?"

Guard B: "No, sorry…"

Ace: "Can you bring me one from the infirmary? I'm on the edge here."

Guard B: "O-Okay! Wait a little bit!"

Ace: "King, you better open it now."

***

King: "...Weird. We may not make it."

Ace: "Come again!?"

King: "Oh, I got it. This one."

"...Nice. It opens!"

"Q, carry it out. Let's retreat."

Q: "Got it."

***

Guard B: "Hey, I have the medicine!"

Ace: "Very thanks, man. Here, your key! I'll leave the rest to you."

Guard B: "Yeah. Hope you recover soon."

King: "...This is weird. Jack didn't come in the end."

Q: "Maybe he realized it's impossible to go against phantom thieves."

King: "No. That guy…"

Police: "Freeze! We're police!"

King: "--."

Q: "!?"

Ace: "Since when!?"

King: "We're being set up. Q, throw the 'Mermaid's Tears' to the sea."

Q: "Huh!? Do you hear yourself now!?"

King: "Do it now. We'll escape the moment the police look away."

Ace: "You're lying, right!?"

King: "Quick."

Q: "You're the one who told me to do it, alright!"

Police: "H-Hey! The jewel! Pick it up, quick!"

King: "Let's go!"

Police: "Wait!"

Q: "What do we do now!? All of our hardship went to waste!"

Ace: "Our 6 billion…"

King: "That was a fake jewel Jack had prepared."

Q: "What?"

King: "Jack had stolen 'Mermaid's Tears' in advance and replaced it with a fake one."

"He was the one who snitched on us."

***

Narration: "The day before…"

Guard A: "Hey, what's wrong?"

Jack: "No, it's just… the engine…"

Guard A: "Hold on, hold on. If there's any trouble, you better do something about it or else it'll get worse later on. If we're liable for the damages…"

Jack: "There's smoke coming out!"

Guard A: "Say what!?"

Jack: "Stay away from the car!"

Guard B: "Whoa!"

Guard A: "C-Call the fire station! Wait, we gotta get the safe first!"

Guard B: "Hey, is it okay?"

Jack: "Yeah. The smoke disappeared. I found no issues with the machine too."

Guard A: "That means the safe is alright, yeah? God. Give me a break. We almost carry it away ahead of time."

***

Q: "So that's why Jack didn't show up…"

Ace: "He really got us! I already thought it was weird for the police to appear at times like that!"

Q: "Ugh. Even if the police didn't appear, Jack still won since he already got the 'Mermaid's Tears' before us."

King: "I wonder about that."

***

King: "He hasn't made any changes in his base. Well, isn't he a little careless…"

"Even his security system is so weak."

"Hm? A card?"

"'Out of respect of Master's retirement, I will hand over the victory.'"

"Don't be satisfied with second place. You could have taken measures if you know there's a chance it'll get stolen. Oh, well. I'll accept your kind offer…"

***

Jack: "..."

"He really came…"

King: "Hey."

Jack: "--ugh. Why are you still here, King?"

King: "It's been a long time, I want to renew our friendship. I even brought alcohol with me."

Jack: "This is why you're hated."

King: "But you don't hate me, do you?"

Jack: "How did you find out?"

King: "I got some information about you from Fox. It helped me understand your strategy to some extent."

Jack: "In that case, why did you fall into the trap?"

King: "Because, otherwise, you won't move forward as planned. I'll be troubled if you're on your guard."

"I could narrow down your base thanks to the location device I planned on the alcohol I gave to Club. The rest is my intuition."

Jack: "I can never bring myself to like you in the end."

King: "Now, now. Let's have a toast for the 'Mermaid's Tears'. Q and Ace are waiting."

Izumi: (This is the only scene where Jack and King talk face to face. Even so, you can tell how close they are just by watching this scene alone.)

(Maybe because they are cousins, they can create a unique relationship between rivals who understand each other the most.)

***

Muku: Thank you so much!

Juza: Thank you.

Sakyo: Thank you.

Yuki: Thank you.

Kazunari: Thankies thankies~!

Banri: Thank you.

***

Sakyo: The audience's reaction on our first show is great.

Juza: King was so cool.

Muku: Jack was even cooler! The fact that he's active behind the scenes is just so Juchan!

Juza: I can also feel the gap between King, a sharp person with a gentle look, and you, Muku.

Muku: I-Is that so? Ehehe. But your Jack…

Azami: They're going to be like that forever at this rate.

Yuki: When are you going to stop?

Banri: But well, it was good overall. Right?

Kazunari: Totally! Their chemistry was just perfect on the stage, even the audience was pleased!

Izumi: Let's keep this energy until the closing show!

Muku: Yes!

< Episode 7 | Masterlist | Episode 9 >

#a3!#a3! translation #summer troupe #autumn troupe #muku sakisaka #yuki rurikawa #kazunari miyoshi #juza hyodo #sakyo furuichi #banri settsu #azami izumida

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anthrobrat · 3 years

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The Great Chocolate Heist of 1945

Merry Christmas!! Hello @papersergeant-pencilsoldier it is I, your Secret Santa!! I am so excited I got to write a little 2nd Platoon BROT4 The Last Patrol extra scene for you. The story is a little weird (and not christmassy at all, sorry) but I do hope you like the friendship and hilarity of these boys!!

TLP BROT4, Rated G, 1500 words

“No patrol tonight, moving off the line tomorrow. Chuck am I dreamin?” Liebgott yells across the room as their leaders exit the room, followed quickly by Web and Jones.

“If you are, we all are.” They all shook hands and clapped each other on the shoulder.

The rapid mood change from anxious and angry to relieved and relaxed was palpable as everyone milled about, congratulating each other on their luck that day, and making plans for finally moving off the line. They all knew better than to get their hopes up, but it was difficult not to with the announcement Major Winters had just made.

Chuck had smiled for the first time since November, and everyone was caught in the good mood, not wanting to ruin it by mentioning that Winters had told them they were moving off the line twice since Foy and neither had panned out. But the Germans were very close to throwing in the towel at that point, so maybe this would be the last time they’d have to worry about falling artillery or snipers.

“So, are they gonna make us look like we’re preparing for this again tonight, or does this mean we get the afternoon off?” Babe asked as he pushed his chair back and cupped his hands around his metal tin of coffee, placing first one then the other leg onto the table.

“Lieb.” McClung walked up from his spot crouched against the wall across the room. “You should ask Web when he gets back. He left after them, I’m sure he’s got a better idea than us. Not like we’ve ever faked a patrol before.” McClung’s deadpan as he sat down at the table made them all laugh.

“You think Winters has either? He’s straighter than an arrow,” Lieb answered, and then snarled as an aside: “Although maybe Dog and Fox have been running fake fucking patrols this whole time. It would certainly explain a lot.”

As more guys filtered out of the basement to find other ways to entertain themselves, the room ended up with just the four of them at the table. Babe, Liebgott, McClung, and Chuck drinking coffee and smoking the Lucky Strikes that Luz had pilfered from somewhere or other.

“Guys, I have an idea,” Babe declared between his third and fourth smoke.

“Ah fuck, Babe, not again.” Chuck tipped his chair back and looked toward the ceiling. Lieb laughed, knowing exactly what disaster Chuck was thinking about.

“Nah, this is a good one,” Babe said, putting his coffee down and lacing his hands behind his head, trying to look confident. “Lieb, you think there’s more Hersheys bars in the stash you pilfered from yesterday?”

“I don’t see why there wouldn’t be, unless fucking Nixon ate them all.” Liebgott didn’t bother denying his transgressions. Anyone with eyes would have seen him the day before enjoying the spoils.

“So here’s what I’m thinkin’. We plan our own patrol tonight.” Babe raised his eyebrows like he had said something so brilliant that the rest of them should bow down or something. He picked up his cup and finished off his coffee, twirling the empty tin mug in the air.

“What are you, Billy the fucking Kid?” Chuck said, making Liebgott laugh while Babe scowled at them both.

McClung chimed back in. “Billy the Kid, huh? I see it, saying you want to sneak into CP to steal fucking chocolate. Just waltz right in?”

“You think it can’t be done?” Babe fired back, cigarette bobbing as he spoke, fingers twisting the mug around like he couldn’t sit still.

“I mean, the man’s got a point, McClung. It’s barely illegal, and we deserve it. Plus, ain’t no sign of Sobel with his ‘army property’ bullshit. I’m in.” Liebgott opened his jacket then, and pulled out a piece of paper with writing on one side. He unfolded it so the blank side was facing up and began to draw a sketch of the CP, with a big X where the chocolate had last been spotted.

“I guess we’re really doing this then,” Chuck sighed, before he let the front legs of his chair touch the ground again and leaned in to look at their amateur blueprints. He pulled the pencil out of Liebgott’s hand, marking up the map and motioning with his middle finger as he explained the plan they’d need to pull this off. “Here’s our perimeter. Babe you’ll be lookout, McClung you’re lead scout. Once you clear the rooms off the foyer, Liebgott and I will come through and--”

“Yea yea, we’ll check the last places chocolate was spotted, and if there even is any left we’ll grab as many as we can carry. I know my job,” Liebgott took the pencil back and tucked it into his ear before lighting another cigarette.

McClung took one more look at the map before folding it up and handing it back to Liebgott.

“So we meet outside OP2 at 2300 hours,” Babe stage whispered, “and if the coast is clear, the heist is on.”

“Babe, we’re stealing chocolate, can you calm down?”

“Chocolate or no fuckin chocolate, Lieb, it’s still a heist. What should we call it? A fucking patrol?” McClung put his hand out to Babe’s chest to calm him down, because who gets worked up over chocolate? On the other hand, it felt like they really didn’t have much else to live for at this stage of the game.

“Relax, Babe, we’re in, alright?”

“Yeah yeah, alright, Chuck. You better be there tonight. I’m counting on your leadership.” Babe winked and laughed, diffusing the sudden tension.

“Heard Lip’s getting his battlefield commission before we get back to base. You think they’ll have him transferred?” Lieb asked no one in particular as they all got up from the table and made their way back out to the street.

“Nah, I bet Winters’ll figure out some way to keep him with us at least until we cross the river,” Chuck said over his shoulder as they made their way back to their billets.

H-hour rolled around quicker than anyone had expected, with Babe the last to arrive from his outpost duty at 23:05.

“Sorry I’m late, I had to ditch Shifty. He got so suspicious I thought I’d have to invite him along.”

“It’s okay,” McClung nodded at him, “I already promised him I’d get him a bar.”

“You told fucking Shifty?” Liebgott yelled toward the sky. “Who else knows? You guys are the worst.”

“First off,” Babe scoffed, “did any of us actually keep our mouths shut?”

Chuck laughed and kicked his boot against the ground, and Liebgott gave them all an angry stare. Footsteps along the road made everyone duck into the adjoining alley.

When the footsteps had moved on, it was time to put their plan into action. Except no one moved.

“We sure it’s in there?” Babe asked, looking up at the darkened windows on the first floor.

“Fucking positive, Babe. Unless Shifty beat us to it, since people can’t keep their fucking traps shut.” McClung shrugged at Liebgott’s jab in the darkness, and Lieb pulled his map out once more and shined the flashlight on it. “Ok, if we go in this back door it’ll be about 50 yards in on the left.”

“I’d say it’s more like 75,” Chuck chimed in, trying and failing to keep the humor out of his voice.

“I just wanted a fucking bar of chocolate,” Babe interjected. “Lieb didn’t share any of his, and I promised Gene. I owe him a chocolate bar.”

“You told—“ Liebgott began to yell before he reined himself in, spun around, leveled a glare. “You told the Doc?”

Babe was about to reply when Chuck stepped between them.

“Where the fuck did McClung go?”

“He was just here, I don’t fucking know. You didn’t see him?” Lieb asked.

“Well I certainly didn’t see him, I was looking at your map.”

Just as their voices began to raise, the door banged open and out stepped their missing brother in arms.

“It seemed like that argument might take a while, so I went ahead and grabbed the chocolate.” McClung handed two bars each to his open mouthed comrades, who pocketed them silently.

“Well,” Babe stuttered at last, “I suppose that was a pretty successful heist.”

“No thanks to you.” Liebgott punched him to emphasize his point.

“Or you,” McClung said around a mouthful of chocolate. “Anyway I gotta go bring this to Shifty, I’ll see you fellas later.”

At that, McClung meandered off back down the alley, contraband chocolate in hand. Babe scratched his head, shrugged his shoulders, and ran to catch up. Chuck and Joe followed quickly behind, still laughing at the confusion on Babe’s face.

“You think Gene will like my present? It’s not quite the Belgian chocolate that he gave me, but I still wanted to give him something.”

“Babe. It’s chocolate. He’ll like it.” Liebgott slugged him in the shoulder. “But you’re a sucker for giving up your second bar of chocolate.”

“Hey Chuck! You hear that! He says I’m a sucker! We’ll see who’s the sucker when I get stitched up before him.”

They all rolled their eyes, but Babe knew he was right. He also knew every one of them was going to end up splitting their chocolate with someone. He was just smart because he picked the medic.

#hbo war secret santa #hbo war secret santa 2020 #preseennttsss #merry christmas lovey #band of brothers fic #my fic #brotp #the last patrol #joseph liebgott #chuck grant #babe heffron #Earl McClung #my emotional support brot4

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the-drakeboys · 4 years

Text

Come Back to Me - Pt. 1

Summary: For the first time in years, Sam and Nate Drake will be going on a perilous, high-risk adventure without you by their side - a three-day stint in a Panamanian prison. They’re not just the guys you’ve partnered with and been a medic for on dozens of insane jobs over the last few years - Nate has become one of your closest friends, and Sam… well, Samuel Drake is the love of your life.

Sam just wants to reassure you - everything is going to be perfectly fine.

It’s a simple job, after all.

Pairing: Sam Drake x Reader

Word Count: 3,475

Warnings: Just… all of the fluff. So much fluff.

A/N: My first fic in a long time! I sincerely hope you enjoy. This’ll be a 3- or 4-part series… Just can’t get enough of Sam. He’s such a complex character, and I absolutely love him. Thanks so much for reading!

---

"I just don't see why we can't come up with something." Pacing the floor with your hands on your hips, you had both Drake brothers watching you with uncertain eyes. The crimson shag carpeting beneath your feet squished between your toes, and your eyes caught the cryptic motel art hanging on the far wall. "There must be... I don't know. Something."

"We've been over this three hundred times, y/n. It's not gonna work," Nate sighed, rubbing his hands down over his face. You slowed to a stop behind Sam's chair and set your hand on the back of it. You idly thought about how badly you needed to do a load of laundry - his t-shirt felt utterly grimy against the side of your thumb. "But the boat is an important piece of the puzzle. Immensely important. In fact, I would say it's the most important-"

"Okay, alright, she gets it," Sam waved off his brother's muttering, glancing up at you over his shoulder. "Darlin', we'll be fine. I promise you. It's a simple plan, in and out. That's it." You stared down at him, taken by the earnest look in his eyes. He meant it; he was confident everything would be completely fine.

And that's what scared you.

"Sam..." you started, your mouth opening and closing uselessly. He never left your gaze, managing a small, reassuring smile in the corner of his lips. You sighed, setting your hand softly onto his cheek. He turned his head and kissed your palm, hoping that your jittery nerves would be soothed by it. You felt yourself sink, knowing they were right. "Just... just go over the plan for me one more time. Okay?"

"Jesus, y/n..." Nate's patience was wearing thin. You sat yourself down in the chair between them, trying to settle yourself.

"Please. Just humor me,” you pressed. The younger Drake softened at the sound of your voice and gave, clearing his throat and starting up on the plan for the millionth time.

"Uh... Yeah. Yeah, alright." You sunk back into the chair, feeling the weight of all your worry and stress press down into your shoulders. "So, obviously, we know that Avery and Burnes had a run-in at some point in the late 1690's, and Burnes eventually wound up on his crew, and was definitely present for the Gunsway heist. Then in 1696, he was captured and imprisoned for his crimes as a pirate..." Your eyes carefully followed as he gestured across maps, notes, and letters, recounting all the details for you from start to finish, feeling your heart crumple up as he returned to the part of the plan that had remained a sticking point for you for four solid months.

The jail.

"...so once we get whatever Burnes left behind, and assuming there aren't any hiccups or anything, we just follow Rafe's lead and head to the boat."

"And that's where you come in," Sam murmured. "Rafe's guy will drive the boat, and you'll be there to patch us up. Y'know, if... we need it."

Dazed and quiet, you just nodded, staring at the blueprints of the jail in front of you. Eyeing the lines - all the cells, the maze-like array of boxes and hallways and tunnels. It'd be hell to get out of there on short notice. Sam raised a brow at you, taking in your slumped form and feeling the defeat that came off of you in waves. He reached over and rested a firm hand on your knee, forcing you to lock onto his eyes. "Baby," he started. "It's nothing. We do a job like this in our sleep. You know that. I promise this time next week, it'll be like it never happened. Just me and you, on the beach somewhere, drinkin' mojitos and dancin' in the sunset."

You cleared your throat and sat up, sighing out a slow breath of air. "That's sweet," you spoke, leaning over and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "But that's not what's bothering me."

"...oh?" he mumbled as you leaned back from the kiss, sitting back in his chair and getting ready to listen.

Nate took a swig of the luke warm beer that'd been sitting in front of him for over an hour; you hid a smile, pretending you didn't notice the grimace that crossed his face as he sat it back down. "Well... I mean, truthfully, besides the impossible exit strategy - or lack thereof, or the fact that I can’t be there - and yes, I get it, all male prison, yadda, yadda; or even the fact that the person your entire plan is dependent on is Rafe, with whom I wouldn't trust a pet rock, much less my life..." you trailed off, not noticing the look Nathan shot to his brother across the table and the narrowed eyes the elder sent right back, "it's mostly... Burnes. I mean, I hear you, Nate, I really do, a lead is a lead. But just… why Burnes?”

Nate cocked his head at you. “Whatta you mean?”

You cleared your throat and carefully lifted the 300 year old letter from the table. “I mean… why Burnes? Theoretically, the Gunsway heist took place in ‘95, right? Avery dies four years later - and based on this one letter, we’re supposed to believe that Avery left his monumental treasure of gold and jewels, the culmination of his entire fantastic career as a pirate… to some inconsequential member of his crew who’d barely come aboard just before the heist?”

A wave of depressed concern flooded both young men. "Well..." Sam started, sitting forward. "Look, it's..."

You cut him off, “-and not to mention, why would he have wanted his son to ‘find his way in’ to a Panamanian jail? Is there no chance that it was forged by someone trying to lure the son in, maybe one of the captains in charge of capturing and hanging as many of the pirates from Avery’s crew as possible?”

Nate grumbled under his breath and stood, going over to the mini fridge in the corner. He pulled a few cold beers from the tiny shelf and cracked them open.

You glanced over at Sam, immediately feeling guilt flood your veins at the disheartened expression on his face. “I’m… I’m sorry. I just… I don’t want you two risking so much on such a thin lead.” The brothers shared a look.

Nate carefully sat down, sliding the two beers to both you and Sam across the cheap wooden table. He gently took the letter back from you and ran his eyes over it.

“The thing is… you’re not wrong. Okay? It’s thin. It’s definitely thin. But… listen to this. ‘Though my regrets are many, know that I am at peace with my fate.’ He’s… He’s a father, giving peace of mind to his wife and son. Letting them know he’s ready for death. If it was one of the Viceroys, they wouldn’t want to imagine him having any sort of peace, and they certainly wouldn’t want the son to feel peaceful about it, either. They’d want him to feel urgency. To hurry to the jail. They’d give him some sort of date or timeline.” Nate’s passion was evident as he let the words roll off his tongue, and you couldn’t help how it made you smile, how much he reminded you of his brother.

They both got that look in their eye when they talked about history; when they told the stories of people who’d lived and died so long ago.

“And,” Sam chimed in, a glint in his eye as he spoke, “he doesn’t just say ‘treasure’. He describes it as ‘the riches of paradise’... That’s a pretty specific line, and given how religious Avery seems to have been... I mean, there are references to paradise all over Avery’s history, and the Spaniards wouldn’t have known that.”

Okay. you thought. There’s no talking them out of this.

“C’mon… You know it’ll be fine… over before you know it. What’s the worst that could happen?” Sam nudged at your foot with his own, trying his hardest to make you smile.

Your eyes found their way to your overstuffed med pack, sitting fully stocked at the edge of your bed. You’d been there for them through more close calls and near-death experiences than you’d care to admit over the last three years, playing medic to their wild, reckless adventurers since the beginning. And now, without you being able to get into the prison with them, the mere thought of them having to make it in and out of that place without you by their side turned your stomach inside out.

But they were right. This was the only lead you’d had for months… It was this, or back to square one. And with everything they’d been through, with how long they’d been after this treasure… That just wasn’t an option.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you mumbled, “Can I at least stock you guys up with some gear, just in case?”

A wide grin broke out over Sam’s face. “That’s my girl,” he laughed, reaching over and cupping your cheeks in his hands. “We’re gonna be fine,” he pressed a kiss to your lips, “More than fine, actually. We’ll be great.” He turned to his brother then, holding his beer out for a cheers. “We’re gettin’ close to this treasure, I can feel it.”

You let out a soft giggle, rolling your eyes and lifting your own beer to theirs. Just before your bottle touched Sam’s, you pulled it back. “...Although…”

“...oh my god. What?” Nate huffed with a frustrated laugh.

“...What do I get out of bein’ so cool about this?” you grinned, lifting your feet up to rest on Sam’s lap.

“What you get? You mean other than your share of a 400 million dollar treasure?” Nathan was beside himself at this point, finally relaxed but still in disbelief at your stubbornness.

Sam was lost to the conversation, in an awe-filled haze as he watched you start haggling with his younger brother. He softly rested his free hand on your ankle, rubbing the skin there and listening to you throw out ideas - everything from them doing your laundry for a month to a three-day excursion to the Bahamas - and all he could think was just how goddamn lucky he’d gotten; he still couldn’t believe you were his.

“...okay, okay, no, I’ve got it,” you spoke, sure of yourself as a sly grin crossed your face. Nate raised a brow at you, playfully terrified of whatever was to come next.

“Oh god, what is it?”

You sat forward, smirking at them both. “When you get back, you two finally tell me your last name.”

“...y/n, the hell’re you talkin’ about?” the younger Drake seemed confused, but you saw right through both of them.

“Yeah, c’mon. You know, your real last name.” They both immediately began stuttering their way through objections, but you weren’t having any of it. “C’mon, boys, how long did you think I was gonna buy that you just happened to be descendants of Sir Francis Drake? Really? You’re treasure hunters, for Christ’s sakes.”

Your laughter carried through the thin motel walls, but Sam stayed on target, pressing his fingers lovingly into your ankle as he did, “No, no, Drake is a very proud, very meaningful family name. You’ll see, we’ll uhh… shit, I’ll show you my birth certificate if that makes you feel better.”

Nate shot him a look that screamed ‘are you fuckin’ kidding?’, but it went unnoticed. There was a darkness in Sam’s eyes and a pang in your gut that told you to let this one go; there was much more to this story than he was ready to tell.

“...mhmm,” you grinned, playing it off and raising your beer once more. “So, uhh… my laundry for a month, then?”

Nate let out a relieved laugh, glad the discussion was finally over. “Guess I can live with that. I figure it’s worth it for 400 million.”

Over the clinking of bottles and excited murmurs of cheers, an atmosphere of adventure loomed.

Sam was right. Everything would be… great.

“Y’know, I was thinking about the guard that Rafe is paying to get us in, I mean, maybe we can buy him a fruit basket or somethin’ once it’s all done…” Nate began, “Could be a nice way to keep him from asking about what we’re doin’, I mean it could be pretty funny, here’s thirty grand and, y’know, some bananas and pomegranates…” You and Sam listened in amusement, nodding your heads as if any of what he was saying made sense.

As the youngest Drake rambled on and on about fruit baskets and prison guards and how much of an asshole he knows Rafe to be, Sam found your eyes with his and held them there. A weight lived there between you both, a magnet pulling you to him. He took a swig of his beer, occasionally ‘mhm’ing for his little brother’s benefit; but you were all he was thinking about. A soft smile tugged at your lips, the coy look in your eye driving him crazy, making him struggle not to reach out and touch you.

“Ahem,” Nate coughed, a brow raised at both of you. You mumbled a ‘hmm?’ at him, turning to face him. Sam didn’t move, gaze still set on you as if he was etching every curve of your face into his memory.

“I’m uh… I’m gonna go see what’s goin’ on down at Tankhouse. I think it’s ladies night, or… somethin’.” You felt a warm blush come over your cheeks as he stood from the table.

“...you have fun with that, little brother.” Sam’s soft voice and sly, cheeky smile caused a flutter in your stomach, your foot gently kicking his side as you willed him to behave long enough for Nate to get out the door.

“Sounds good, Nate,” you muttered through your smile, “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Night, guys,” he said with a playful roll of his eyes, shutting the door behind him.

Sam set his beer down and reached over, turning the knobs on the old motel radio that sat against the wall. Old 60’s tunes began to play through the speakers, and he set it to a low volume before turning back to you. “C’mere,” he mumbled, his tone both husky and sweet as you obliged him. You moved to sit yourself across his lap, sighing happily as he brought you into his arms and tugged you close. He captured your lips with his in a slow, heated kiss, one that set you on fire and made your fingers curl around the fabric of his t-shirt. You sunk into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and smiling against his lips. “...what?” he chuckled, his eyes slowly peeling open.

“Nothin’. Just… you taste… you taste like beer and..tacos.”

“M’not hearin’ a complaint…”

“Shuddup,” you giggled, still tasting him on your tongue as you leaned back in his hold. There was a long quiet as he stared up at you, eyes lidded and hazy. You dragged your lips in a whisper against his, humming your words into them. “Mmmm, you are gonna miss meeeee…”

He let out a pained laugh and buried his face in the crook of your neck, peppering soft kisses there. “Ooh, babygirl, you have no idea.”

“Can you imagine me in prison, though?” you wondered aloud, lovingly threading your fingers through his long, auburn hair and smiling at the happy, peaceful hum it brought out of him.

“...ooooh, I sure can,” he teased, his fingers coming up to give your side a playful squeeze.

“Oh, stop it,” you laughed, smacking his arm.

“What? I’m serious. You all dressed up in the orange jumpsuit? Runnin’ the joint, callin’ the shots.”

He leaned his head back, glancing up at you as you thought aloud, trying to hide your grin, “Y’know, you’re not wrong, I’d probably be some big shot… Get a bunch of tattoos, maybe start collecting teardrops…”

“Now that, that I would love to see,” he laughed, his hand sweetly resting on your thigh and his thumb swiping back and forth. “What about your right-hand man? Do I get a few teardrops, too?”

You cocked your head to the side in thought, twirling some of his hair around your fingers, “Hmm… No, I don’t think you’d be the teardrops type… Too obvious. You’d uhh… I could see you with some birds. Maybe down the side here…” You traced a finger down the side of his neck, feeling goosebumps rise in the wake of your touch. He closed his eyes then, drinking in the moment, loving every second of how it felt to have you in his arms.

“Mmm… Mhm, I’ll have to do that… Maybe I’ll just get them on this trip. I’ll come back to you all tatted up, lookin’ large and in charge,” he chuckled, still distracted by your fingers running through his hair.

A heavy quiet fell over both of you, the only sound in the room coming from the radio as oldies classics continued to play. You slowly pulled your fingers from his hair, cupping his face in your palms and meeting his eyes as he peeled them open. “You do that, Samuel Drake,” you whispered. “You come back to me.”

The fear and stress that played over your face rocked something in him, and every bone in his body ached, knowing just how worried you’d be until he came back to you.

And in that moment, something in him clicked; staring up at you, his heart racing, his entire body overflowing, he mumbled a single word.

“Morgan.”

Your brows furrowed with questions, your mouth opening to ask them, but stopping as realization overtook your face. He repeated it quietly, a shy, scared smile tugging at his lips. “Our name… it’s Morgan.”

You couldn’t help the joy that poured onto your face, love stretching through you to your fingertips as you closed the small distance between you and met his lips with a full, passionate kiss. He wrapped himself around you, moving his lips with yours, falling harder with each passing moment and knowing in his gut that of all the people in the world to tell about who he really was, the only one that mattered was you.

As you pulled back from the kiss, you could feel his heart thumping heavily away in his chest. He cleared his throat. This was hard for him; but for you, he would do anything. “When we were kids, I uhm…. There was this one night...” He looked shaken, and your chest ached at the sight. You could see him reliving whatever hell he and Nathan had gone through - you saw it right there in his eyes. “See, Nathan was just a little guy, and I... I almost-”

“-I love you,” you whispered, resting your forehead against his. An emotional smile came over him, grateful for the rescue.

“Maybe I’ll uhh… maybe I’ll save that one for another time,” he mumbled, relief washing over him.

“Sounds like a plan, handsome,” you promised. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

There wasn’t an ounce of uncertainty in his eyes, his hand coming up to gently tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “Never doubted it, sweetheart,” he spoke. “In fact-” He cut himself off then, brows raising happily as the radio began to play his favorite - Sinatra. “Ooh… Oh, this is a good one.” He reached over, fingers nimbly turning the radio up as I’ve Got You Under My Skin floated out through the room. “...I have got you,” he started to sing, your heart instantly fluttering at the sound, “Under my skin… I’ve got you, deep in the heart of me…”

Sam’s smile was infectious as he sang, shifting you in his lap so he carried you bridal style against his chest. “...I would sacrifice anything, come what might, for the sake, of holdin’ you near…” He stood then, eyes glued to yours, loving how you listened to him with that adoring gaze, your arms around his neck, swaying from side to side as he held you.

His face was so close to you, his lips hovering above yours, warm breath unfolding over your skin with every word of the song. “But each time I do, just the thought of you, makes me stop, before I begin…. ‘Cuz I’ve got you…” Before he could finish, you took those beautiful few words from his lips with a kiss; one that made you both forget the impending trip to Panama, the jail he’d be stuck in for three days without you, and his partnership with the ever questionable Rafe Adler. It was a kiss full of all the weight of knowing deep down in your gut that you were utterly, hopelessly.. helplessly in love.

---

Next Chapter

Tags: [tagging the lovely folks who responded to my post re: who’d be interested in a Sam fic. :)]

@lucacangettathisass @ammaliatrici @cassieseraphim @slooshen @wings-0806 @talktothemoon2 @nachochitz @supernaturally-avenging-hannibal @aritipoupi @landoverthemountains @qwertybubbler @raeswrittenrecords @coolnerdreader @s4mdrake @go-youngtrash-things

GIF credit to @bizexualvampire, couldn’t get tumblr to link the gif from the post. thank you!

#sam drake x reader #sam drake #samuel drake #sam drake fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #uncharted #uncharted 4 #uncharted fanfiction #nathan drake #x reader fic #come back to me #my writing

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yellowmagicalgirl · 4 years

Text

All the ways we couldn't save you

Ladybug and Chat Noir defeat Hawk Moth and Mayura late on Friday night. On Monday morning, Mme. Bustier tells the class Adrien won't be coming to school anymore.

I don't consider myself to be in the Miraculous Ladybug fandom anymore, and I haven't watched most of seasons 2 and 3 nor do I have any desire to. However, I had this idea and I wanted to write it.

Timeline-wise, I guess this takes place sometime after Marinette becomes the Guardian? Though, the episode "Dark Owl" did not occur in order for this to properly work.

TRIGGER/SPOILER WARNING: This fic is about suicide. There is no happy ending.

AO3

FFN

Ladybug and Chat Noir defeated Hawk Moth and Mayura late on Friday night. Ladybug had taken the Miraculous from the two unconscious adults, pocketing them to take back to the Miraculous Box when she and Chat were done. Chat had found rope, and he and Ladybug had tied up Gabriel Agreste and Nathalie Sancouer. When the police arrived, the superheroes handed over the now ex-supervillains and re-entered the mansion, looking for any underlying threats.

"Should we wake him? Tell him?" Ladybug asked as they passed by the portrait of Adrien and his father.

"No," Chat said, eyes oddly downcast. "When Adrien wakes up, he's not... I don't think he's going to like having to live in the world he wakes up to. Let's not force him into it so soon."

Ladybug shivered as they made their way up to Hawk Moth's lair. Not because she felt cold, but something felt very wrong about this situation. She couldn't place why, though.

She shook her head, briefly. It must have been being so close to the Peacock Miraculous. That was what was setting her off. It had to be.

They found notes. Blueprints to a secret room. Ladybug pressed her lips together and glanced at her partner. She couldn't tell if it was the lighting or something else that made him seem so pale.

They found the coffin in an underground garden. There was something beautiful about it, in a horrifying way.

Adrien's mother looked so peaceful. She looked like might just be sleeping.

She wasn't breathing.

Chat Noir gasped. It was an ugly, wet, choking sound. "Why?"

"I don't know. Let's face it, Gabriel Agreste was an evil man. He kept his son locked up for years. Of course he'd keep his wife's corpse locked up, too."

"And not even tell his son."

After a minute of searching (and Chat staring at Emilie Agreste with an odd look on his face), Ladybug found the plugs to the life support. She wrapped her hand around one.

"What are you doing?" Chat asked her. He did not move.

"Chat, she's already dead."

"You don't know that."

Ladybug took out the butterfly miraculous, and pinned it to her suit. "Is she alive?" Ladybug asked, looking between the kwami and the woman in the coffin.

"No. Well, technically yes, but only because of life support. Her mind is gone," they said, shaking their head. "I already told Ma- Gabriel this before he even formed his first akuma, but he wouldn't listen."

"Is there a way we can bring her back?" Chat's voice was strained.

"That's why he wanted your miraculous," Nooroo said. "If you combine the Ladybug and Chat Noir miraculous together, you can grant a wish. But, that wish comes at a great cost. I tried to tell Gabriel this, too, but he wouldn't listen."

"What sort of cost?" Chat asked. Ladybug wrapped her fingers around the plug once more.

"A human life, and probably the one of someone he cared about," Nooroo said. Ladybug pulled the plug loose.

"What are you doing?" Chat turned to Ladybug, horror evident on his face. Ladybug continued pulling the plugs. "We're not the bad guys, Ladybug! We save people!"

"She's already gone. She's been dead for months," Ladybug said, dropping the last plug. "And sacrificing someone, anyone, isn't the right thing to do."

Chat stood rooted to the spot, eyes vacant.

"I'm going to go tell the police about her, so they can take her so she can finally get buried," Ladybug said. "Trust me, Chat, I didn't want to do this either."

"Go ahead." Chat's voice was flat.

Ladybug gave him a soft smile. "I'll meet up with you later. I'm glad this is over, but I'm also really tired."

"Yeah. I'm tired, too. It's over."

Marinette went to school on Monday morning, a smile on her face and a spring in her step. She had a box of celebratory cookies with her.

Hawk Moth and Mayura were gone, so she could be a normal girl with a normal life. She could go through school without worrying about having to miss class because of an akuma, or that her frustration with a failed quiz would lead to the downfall of Paris. In fact, she probably wouldn't fail as many quizzes, now, because now she could spend more time studying.

Adrien and Chloé weren't at school. Marinette frowned slightly as the minutes passed and neither of them walked into the classroom.

Mme. Bustier walked into the classroom, her arm around Sabrina's shoulders. Sabrina went to her seat, hugging herself. Sabrina seemed paler than normal, and her clothes seemed darker. Mme. Bustier's eyes were downcast, and her lips were pressed together. Her face looked slightly red.

"Adrien isn't going to be coming to class, anymore," she said. "Chloé will be... when she returns, don't press her about it. She's already not doing well."

"What? Why?" Alix asked. "Do the police think Adrien was working with his dad?"

"He did never get akumatized," Max said, and shrank down into his seat when the class turned to glare at him. "I'm not saying that he's at fault, I'm just saying it looks bad to an outside observer!"

Sabrina sank further into her seat.

"Okay, but didn't M. Agreste get akumatized himself? Into the Collector?" Alya said.

"Yeah, he did, Adrien was really torn up about it afterwards," Nino said, looking sadly at the empty seat.

"So the authorities shouldn't be blaming Adrien, then," Max said.

"Adrien isn't in any trouble," Mme. Bustier said. "He... Adrien was sick, and he succumbed to his illness on Saturday evening."

"Stop using euphemisms," Sabrina said. Her glare was so icy that it could've frozen the tears in her eyes. "Adrien killed himself."

On Monday night, Ladybug tried to call Chat Noir. She had given him space, because she had known he was mad at her, but she needed the one human who'd know why she felt so guilty.

He didn't respond.

On Tuesday, Marinette saw a tabloid wondering if Adrien's death was a cover up - if someone thought he was a threat. Thought that he would become the next Hawk Moth.

Marinette had never wanted to become Lady Noir again so badly as she did then, wanting to cataclysm the entire stand.

She called Chat Noir again that night. She still got no answer.

She didn't think he killed Adrien. If anything, Ladybug had killed Adrien.

Chloé came back to school on Wednesday, but it took Marinette a moment to recognize her.

Her long blonde hair was in a loose, low, lopsided ponytail. She didn't wear any of her usual eye makeup, and her foundation did little to disguise the redness around her eyes, the bags under them, and the paleness of her complexion. Her posture was hunched, like she was trying to make herself smaller. A plain golden ring was on her middle finger, but she wore no other jewelry.

Sabrina went to hug her.

"The funeral's on Saturday," Chloé said; her voice was soft and hoarse and didn't sound like her at all.

Throughout the lesson, Chloé stared at her ring with unfocused eyes.

On Friday, Mme. Bustier gave a lesson on mental health, and how to recognize signs of depression in someone else. It surprised her, that suddenly being happy after being sad for so long wasn't always a hopeful sign.

Out of the corner of her eye, Marinette saw Chloé flinch when their teacher mentioned that a suicidal person will give things important to them away.

Marinette didn't remember seeing most of these signs in Adrien. She remembered seeing some of them in Chat Noir.

Chat Noir still wasn't answering her calls.

It was a double funeral for both Emilie and Adrien. It made sense. Gabriel had not been allowed to go to his son's funeral, so the task fell to foreign relatives. It would be easier to bury both at the same time.

It was an open-coffin funeral. Emilie looked the same as she did when Ladybug had killed her.

Adrien looked so peaceful. He looked like might just be sleeping.

He wasn't breathing. If Marinette squinted the way she did when she used her lucky charm, she could almost see the signs underneath the mortician's makeup, showing where his neck had broken. They also hadn't covered up the tan line where Adrien's silver ring had been.

Chloé hugged Adrien's cousin, still wearing the gold ring she had worn to class.

Ladybug went out on patrol again on Sunday evening. She needed to clear her head so that all she would be able to think about would be way she had to swing in order to not fall.

She checked her yo-yo's map, to see where she was because she got too caught up. She saw an indicator to Chat Noir's location.

It was time to go find her partner.

The holder of the Cat Miraculous sat on a rooftop, knees curled to their chest. They stared at the Agreste mansion with unfocused eyes, specifically where Adrien's room had been.

They weren't Chat Noir.

She had long blonde hair was in a loose, low, lopsided ponytail, held by a dark green ribbon. Her torso, legs, and arms were coal-colored. Her collar, gloves, and thigh-high boots were the color of midnight, and all were at v-shaped angles. Her bell was on a dark green ribbon, and a dark green ribbon formed her tail as well. Her blue eyes had tears in them.

The Cat Miraculous holder looked up at Ladybug, and then back at Adrien's room. "I couldn't stop him." Her voice was soft and hoarse.

"Stop who?" Ladybug asked, sitting a few feet from the girl.

"The previous Chat. I couldn't stop him, and I should've known better. I should've known something was wrong. I should've known that something was wrong when he gave me a small jewelry box. Not that he had been Chat, of course, because it was a plain black box. But he wasn't wearing his ring when he gave me the box. I should've stayed with him."

"What happened to Chat?"

"It was all over the news."

"I didn't know his identity. He didn't know mine."

The girl's eyes narrowed as she glanced towards Ladybug. Her eyes unfocused again as she started staring at the Cat Miraculous.

"He hung himself. And his name was Adrien Agreste. And his body was still warm when I found him."

Ladybug hugged Chloé as she burst into tears.

Author's note: Here is how Chloe looks when she uses the cat miraculous.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #ladybug #chat noir #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #chloe bourgeois #suicide tw #my writing #madame bustier #sabrina raincomprix #nooroo #chat!chloe

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idumpyourgrass · 4 years

Text

Always Waiting- Chapter Thirteen

Always Waiting- Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

(I do not own gif!)

Always Waiting Masterlist

Summary: There’s some weird tension between Steve and Y/n, The plan is set into action, Y/n blurts out something crazy

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

A/n: Tea is spilt in this chapter!! I’m so excited! We are nearing the end of this book, maybe 3-4 more chapters? But don’t worry, I’m already planning my next one! I hope you like this chapter! As always lmk if you want to be added to the taglist!

Warnings: Swearing, mention of guns, typos ofc

Word Count: 1.8k

“That keycard opens up the door,” Dustin explains, “but unfortunately, the person who has that keycard also has a massive gun.” He looks up at all of you.

“Whatever’s in those boxes, in that room, they really don’t want anyone to know about it.”

You groan hopping off the counter and moving towards the table, “there’s got to be a way in.”

“Well you know…” Steve starts, glancing up at you, “I could just take them out.”

You cross your arms, raising your eyebrows, “Take who out?”

“The Russian guard.” He looks around the room receiving unconvinced looks from you, Dustin and Robin. “What? I sneak up behind him, knock him out, and grab his keycard. It’s easy.”

You drag your hands down your face, “Oh my god.”

“Did you not hear the part about the massive guns?”

“Yeah, Dustin, I did. That’s why I’d be sneaking,” He moved his two fingers across the table.

“Oh!” You exasperated, throwing your hands up in disbelief.

“Steve, tell me, and be honest, have you ever actually won a fight?” Dustin asks.

“That was one time,”

“Twice actually, Jonathan, year prior?” You pointed out, “I witnessed you get the shit kicked out of you twice.”

“Who was the one who got knocked out last year? Oh wait that was you.” Steve pointed a finger towards you.

“I had to step in because you were getting your ass beat! What was I supposed to do? Just stand around and watch?” You took a step towards him.

“I had everything under control! Until you decided to try to be a hero or whatever.” He took a step towards you.

“Trying to be a hero? I was trying to help you!” Your voice was getting louder and louder and so was his.

“Yeah? Well I don’t need your help!”

“That’s funny cause it sure did look like it when he smashed that fucking plate over your head!” You and Steve both took a pause, trying to catch your breath. You looked up at Steve and realized how close you were, noses almost touching. You had completely forgotten Dustin and Robin were in the room until Dustin cleared his throat. Feeling the heat rise to your cheeks you quickly took a step back, keeping your eyes on the ground.

“That just might work,” Robin muttered running towards the tip jar, “What?” Robin reached in and grabbed all the money and took off running, “Robin! What are you doing?” You call after her, as you, Steve and Dustin run after her. “To find a way into the room, a safe way. And in the meantime, sling ice cream, and you and Steve behave!”

“Safe, I like that she said that. A safe way, one that won’t get us killed.” You shoot a glare towards Steve and head into the backroom.

* * *

“It’s amazing what 20 bucks will get you,” Robin rolls out blueprints for Starcourt mall, “At the county recorder’s office.” She takes out a pen and circles Scoops Ahoy, “This is us, Scoops,” she circles another part of the mall, “This is where we want to get.” You lean in, taking a closer look at the map. “I don’t really see a way in?” You observe.

“There’s not, unless you’re just thinking doors.”

“Airducts,” Dustin chimes in.

Robin nods then goes back to drawing on the map, making a line from Scoops to the door, “These airducts, lead all the way… here.”

You all four look up to the airduct.

“Who’s gonna take one for the team and climb through?” Steve asks pulling out the ladder.

“I can do it,” Dustin suggests. Steve unscrews the vent, “Yeah, man, I don’t think you can fit, it’s like super tight.”

“I can fit, no collar bones remember?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Robin snickered.

“Oh he has some disease, uhhhhh, chrydo…” Steve tries to remember the name.

“Cleidocranial dysostosis.” You correct him.

“Yeah, whatever, he can bend like gumbo.” He explains to Robin

“I think you mean Gumby,” You look up at Steve.

“No, it’s gumbo,” Steve argues.

“It’s most certainly not gumbo. It’s Gumby, with a Y.”

“Gumby? No it’s Gumbo.” You roll your eyes.

“Would you both just shut up? Steve push me.” Dustin yells from the vent. Steve gives Dustin a big push. While they are struggling to get Dustin in the vent, Erica Sinclair comes in for her daily samples. You look up at Steve and Dustin, then to Robin, who seems to have the same idea as you.

* * *

Steve slides a sundae for Erica onto the table.

“You see this?” Robin points to the map, “This is the route you’ll take. Then we just wait for the last delivery, then you’ll knock down the grate, hop down, open the door-“

“And then you’ll find out what’s in those boxes?” She looks at all four of you as you all nod. “And you say this guard is armed?”

“Yes, but he won’t be there,” you reassure her.

“You want my help? This USS Butterscotch better be the first of many, and I’m talking free Ice cream,” She locks eyes with you, “For life.”

*. *. *

The four of you waited on the mall’s roof for Erica.

“Are you nerds in position?” Erica asks over the walkie talkie.

“Yeah, we’re in position, you’ve got the green light,” you say.

“Green light, roger that. I’ll see you on the other side, nerds.”

You held your breath as you waited for Erica, hoping there wouldn’t be any guards you didn’t catch.

“I’m in,” Erica confirms.

“Oh, thank god,” you let out a shaky breath.

The door opens and Erica comes out, “Free ice cream. For life!” She yells.

You all make your way down to the loading dock and head through the door. Steve talks one of the boxes and opens it, steam rolls down the sides of the box, “Definitely not Chinese food,” Steve says.

“What is that?” You ask, looking down into the box.

“Maybe you guys should stand back,” Steve suggests. You, Erica, and Robin take a couple steps back.

“Dustin,” You try to grab his arm to move him back.

“Dustin get back,” Steve says, trying to push him.

“No! If you die, I die.”

Steve lifts up whatever was in the box to reveal a tube with some green liquid in it.

“What the hell?” You ask getting a closer look.

“What is that?” Erica asks.

You start to hear a rumbling noise, “Guys…?” The room starts to shake.

“Was that just me, or did the room move?” Dustin asks.

“Boobytraps,” Erica whispers.

“You know what? Let’s just grab that and go.” Robin takes the tube and you all head for the door, but before you can make it out, the door shuts.

Dustin rushes over to the panel of buttons and pushes the door open button, nothing happens. Uh oh.

“Uh, Erica, which one do I press?”

“Just push the damn button nerd!” Erica insists.

“Dustin just push the button, please!” You say, starting to panic.

Steve runs over and starts repeatedly pressing the button. Another set of doors close.

“Steve what did you do?” You yell.

“Nothing! I just pushed the button!”

The room shakes again and this time, it drops.

“Oh shit! We’re going down!” Steve yells.

“No shit Harrington!” You yell back.

Everyone starts screaming. You try to grab a hold of something in the state of panic. Steve reaches his hand out and without thinking you grab it, tight. You squeeze your eyes shut hoping the room will stop but it doesn’t, you fall for what feels like an eternity. Suddenly, the room stops, sending you all to the ground.

“Is everyone ok?” You groan, rubbing your head.

“Yeah, I’m great knowing that Russians can’t design elevators!” Steve shouts.

Dustin gets up and attempts to push the buttons again.

“I think we’ve established those buttons don’t work,” Erica says.

“They’re buttons, they have to do something.”

“Yeah, if we had a keycard,” You mumble, sitting up and leaning against the wall.

“What?” Dustin asks.

“The electronic keycard, same as the loading dock? We need it to get out.” You point to the key card scanner.

“Just so you nerds know, I’m supposed to be staying the night at Tina’s tonight, and Tina always covers for me but if I’m not at uncle Jack’s party tomorrow, my mom will hunt you down one by one and slit your throats.” Erica says.

Steve turns around, running his fingers through his hair, “I don’t care about Tina, or Uncle Jack’s party! Your mom won’t find us if we’re dead inside a Russian Elevator!” Steve snaps.

“Steve, knock it off,” you kick his leg with your foot.

“What if we climbed out?” Dustin points up towards the ceiling.

* * *

After discovering climbing out would be much harder than you thought, you all decided to sleep in shifts. You sat on top of the elevator lost in thought. You didn’t hear Steve come up and sit down right next to you.

“Hey,” he nudges your leg with his foot, “Whatcha thinking about?”

“Just thinking,” you say, staring off into space, “How do we always get ourselves into these situations?” You grinned, turning your head towards Steve. He looked right back at you.

“I have no idea, but I must say, we do make a pretty badass duo,” he smirked. He moved his gaze down to his feet, “I’m sorry for being such an asshole, I just, I just don’t know how to act around you.” He admits. “Like, I want to be friends, I do, but then I get scared that I’m going to lose you again, so I just think if I’m not friends I have nothing to lose, does that make sense?” He rambles. You just nod. A comfortable silence falls between you two. You sit up and turn to face Steve.

“You know what? Let’s make a promise. No matter what kind of shit gets thrown our way, we are not leaving each other’s lives again. We have gone through too much shit together to just throw away our whole relationship.”

“We have to pinky promise, or else you might break it,” Steve says holding out his pinky. You lock your pinkies.

“Unless I get killed by an evil Russian, I will keep my promise,” you say, leaning back against the wall.

“Hey what did I tell you? I’m not letting anything happen to either of you, or to Robin and Erica.”

“Oh yeah? When did you become such a badass?” You teased.

“When the sailor suit comes on, I’m a changed man,” Steve gestures down to his outfit.

This sends you into a fit of giggles. You turn and look at Steve, studying his side profile. He turns and smiles at you. You can’t stop yourself from blurting out.

“I love you,” Oh god no, you did not mean to say that. You clasp a hand over your mouth

Steve’s smile dropped, “W-what?” He stutters.

“You hide your face with your hands, “Oh my god why did I say that?”

“Y/n I-“

“I’m gonna go, uh, in the elevator, now, to check on everyone, Dustin,” You trip over your feet as you try to stand up.

You hop down into the elevator leaving Steve bewildered.

Jesus Christ why did you say that?

Taglist:

@loulouloueh @nighttwingg @l0ve-0f-my-life @labrujaprincess @welcomethefears @metuel18 @polynesianmayo @readinthegarden12 @alafolieee @yoheyyosup @loco-latte @daddystevee @hannarudick @gertenbert @70sgubler @used-avocado @ggclarissa @alonewolfsblog @phoebethepheebs @random-thoughts-003 @red-2-0 @m-blasterrr @blueberrylemontea-fanfic

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #stranger things x reader #dustin henderson #robin buckley #erica sinclair #Lucas Sinclair #mike wheeler #Nancy Wheeler #jonathan byers #will byers #Joyce Byers #jim hopper #eleven

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eljackinton · 4 years

Text

Final Thoughts on Greedfall

Greedfall popped up on my radar last year when people began mentioning that it had been a while since we had last seen a Bioware style RPG. In recent years story heavy RPGs have tended to come in two varieties: Massive open worlds, or Baldur's Gate style throwbacks.

It wasn't long before people started talking about Greedfall for another reason: It's rather insensitive take on colonialism. In both instances enthusiasm for Greedfall was tempered. It was a worthy effort to try and rival something like Dragon Age, but it had too many problems to succeed.

Still, with no Dragon Age or Mass Effect game currently on the horizon, and nobody else trying to contribute to the genre in that way, I knew I was going to find myself playing Greedfall eventually.

Let me be clear, I absolutely think RPG fans out there should play Greedfall. Problems or not, I have to applaud Spiders for at least attempting to make a game nobody outside Bioware (or even in Bioware these days) is trying to make. I'd absolutely be up for seeing a sequel, and I hope some modest success can put pressure on EA to let Bioware get back to regular releases again, or encourage other studios to try something similar.

With that out of the way, I want to talk about what I liked and what I didn't, but first, we have to talk about...

Greedfall's one big problem.

Greedfall is a story about colonialism that has nothing to say about colonialism. It takes place in a fantasy world where an island is sort of, but not quite, being colonised like the Americas were. The game skirts the line between how much it resembles this. The natives of the island are not Native Americans, but they're not not Native Americans either. The game wants to ask the difficult questions about expansion and coexistence, but then wraps it all up with mealy-mouthed 'can't we all just get along' platitudes.

Greedfall's idea of colonialism is about as complex as Disney's Pocahontas. It's a world where bad things only happen because of bad individuals. It it wasn't for the craven or immoral there would be peace on the island. Colonialism is capable of being benign. The game constantly pushes this idea at you, and makes it super obvious that when the time comes to nominate who will be the next high king, the candidate who wants to drive the colonists off the island is treated as one of the bad choices (or 'less good' if you're being charitable.)

Despite the name being Greed-fall, greed and the nature of it are barely explored. The colonists are on the island searching for a cure for a plague. The Bridge Alliance is driven by scientistic discovery, Theleme is driven by religious conviction. The faction the player represents, The Congregation of Merchants, is probably the one most motivated by monetary gain, but they, ironically, feature so thinly in the plot that they might as well not be there.

Over the last few years, culture and society has began to look at colonialism with a more critical eye. The fact that Greedfall failed to consider this shows both a profound lack of imagination and ambition. Better writers than I have already discussed whether this makes the game mildly insensitive or outright offensive, but it's undeniable that it's a problem and it's a dead weight at its core.

What I liked

- The gameplay and game feel was all great. Combat felt smooth. Magic and technical abilities never felt redundant and always added a new dimension to the fights. Firearms felt powerful but never overpowered. There was never a point in the game where I felt overwhelmed.

- There was no 'busywork' sidequests dragging the flow of the game down. There is exactly one 'collectathon' side quest and it's short and easy to ignore. You manage to see all of the world simply by following the quests, meaning it's hard to miss anything significant.

- Collecting resources goes seamlessly with travel and you always have an abundance of resources for crafting and alchemy, which is as easy as 'do you have all the components.' No multi-part crafting or blueprints required.

- The writing and the dialogue was all really steller. At critical points in the game I got really drawn in and could feel the weight of the steaks.

- The characters were a joy to hang around with, chat to, and discover their past. The romance was heartfelt. The side quests were all interesting and cool.

- The visuals were beautiful and parts of the game really made me want to go off and explore.

- Great soundtrack.

- I liked how you could only learn so many abilities over the course of the game. This is a character system where you're either going to be a specialist or a jack of all trades. I don't like it when RPGs essentially give you enough skill points to unlock everything because it just robs the player character of their own unique flavour.

What I didn't like

- The pacing was a real mess. We spend far too long in the starting port that it kills all momentum. The whole story lacks direction for most of it, and any semblance of a plot only really begins two thirds of the way through the game, This was a game that really struggled to make me want to find out what happens next. This is particularly weird given how well the actual dialogue is written.

- The world-building is also implemented poorly. There are whole chunks of the world and backstory that are not elaborated upon. The factions all lack depth and dimension. The game fails to utilise the companions as a means to flesh out the factions they come from. It's hard to appreciate a 'new world' when we don't really know anything about the old one.

- The story brings up ideas and does nothing with them. The fact that (spoilers) the player characters is revealed to be the child of a native adds nothing to the story. The reveal that there was a secret former colony on the island adds nothing to the story (spoilers end.)

- There's not enough variety of environments. Every sub-map blurs into another after a while, even the cities from supposedly vastly different nations have identical architecture styles. It's a crazy big mistake that the HQ of every faction is just the same building template with the textures swapped.

- You can't really impress a personality upon the player character. The game really needed some dialogue choices that added 'sarcastic' or 'frustrated' options. While there are choices the player can make, the personality of the plater character is pretty much set in stone.

- There really wasn't enough content to justify the romances. It basically boils down to about three or four conversations. There's no chance to flirt, or have a bit of back and forth. You just complete the companion quest and then 'romance now?' A missed opportunity.

So all in all, Greedfall is not a prefect game. It's got a lot of problems and a big one in particular, but, again, I applaud the effort. I'd like to see a sequel, and I'd like to see more studios taking chances like this.

#greedfall #review

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drawbauchery · 4 years

Text

The Classic Idea

(fic by cartoons-tothemoon)

“Skipper! I need you to kiss me right now!“

“What?”

Despite being a bunch of crackpot agents, ready for anything and everything that the world could throw at them, be it torture, babysitting, or that one tenant that poisoned people who made him mad, it could not be denied that they had a specific scene. A niche, if you will.

Nobody could really define what that scene was, but, god, you’d know it if you saw it.

Closer to the point, their scene was not that classic idea of a secret agent, full of fast cars and lavish dinner parties and weirdly formal clothing.

And yet, here they were.

Skipper was staring into space as he zipped up Private’s dress as that was the safest option for the both of them, considering such things, like how he’d gotten to this point in his life, and still debating about whether or not confiding your secrets in your closest nemesis was a bad idea if he was going to do the same.

And while Private tied his tie, Private considered how he was practically born into a life of espionage and was somehow still bad at it, whether or not he’d be more or less conspicuous in a dress, and how hard it was to tie a Windsor’s knot.

A well of insecurity and anxiety seemed to radiate off of them, but in that cool way where they’re just kind of like that, as Skipper patted Private on the shoulder and gave him a thumbs up after zipping up his dress and Private beamed up at him after tying his tie.

The height of casual anxiety, indeed they were.

What made it worse, or better, based on what their plan was, was that none of them looked like they were dressed for the same event.

Skipper wore a basic black tux, Kowalski wore a white tux, generally acceptable, but boring and blasé if not for how they pulled it off. Could belong at some wedding if Skipper could look any more bored.

Private was wearing a short pink dress he’d gotten from Julien and Rico looked more like the slacker stoner teen at prom than anything else.

Luckily, given that their plan was to pretty much separate as soon as they got to the party, it would be a piece of cake.

Two weeks ago, HQ had sent a notice about the fact that they needed their best and brightest field agents to comb the grounds of this party…But they were all busy, and so this note was passed down to them.

They had no idea who was hosting the shindig, or what they may be looking for, but man. Wouldn’t it be nice to know.

It wasn’t their thing, really, but, doing a job that nobody else was super into doing, wasn’t that kind of their thing? And besides. Even if they’re not considered elites among HQ, for whatever reason, a first class mission like this had some first class perks, like the car the agency left for them, which Rico called dibs on driving to and back, despite not knowing where they were going. Luckily, Kowalski was able to snatch the keys from him before they learned the full capacity of Rico’s road rage in something that wasn’t a $2000 coupe.

As Rico claimed shotgun, Private and Skipper sat together in the back seat, Skipper’s eyes facing straight ahead, but Private’s out the window, into an almost invisible horizon at this time of night.

“Okay, so here’s the plan.” Skipper began, pulling a map out of the top pocket of his suit coat. “Kowalski was able to acquire a map of the grounds…Grounds…Grounds is such a rich person word. It’s dumb. I hate it.”

“Skipper, the plan.” Kowalski reminded.

“Right, right. We have a map of the house. We enter in 5 minute intervals between each other, so we can’t be traced back to each other as easily. Kowalski, you’re going to the library and observatory.”

“Yes! Skipper, you have given me a gift.”

“Rico, you’ll be stationed near the kitchen and bathrooms.”

Rico shrugged, as if Skipper didn’t already know he was going to rob those chefs blind of their tiny appetizers and even smaller entrees.

“Private, you handle the coat room, sitting room, and closets.”

“Right.”

“And I’ll handle the bedrooms.” Skipper said. “So we’re all in agreement?”

Private raised his hand, with an apparent query in mind.

“Yes, Private?”

“Who in the world has a coat room?”

“Who has an observatory in their home?” Kowalski shrugged.

“Rich people.” Skipper grumbled. “If we’re all in agreement, when all of this is said and done, you want to come back to throw bricks at their windows?”

“T-Time and place, man. T-time and place.”

And so, they executed their plan, just as Skipper said they would. First Rico, then Private, then Kowalski, and then Skipper himself.

Kowalski was anxious about the idea of having the same car drive up, drop someone off, and drive away for 5 minutes four times over, but the fact of the matter was that nobody was really paying attention, because there was no reason to. They were not as obtrusive as they normally were. They had no reason to garner suspicion. They blended in.

They were professionals.

For once in their lives.

And as Skipper parked the car in a nearby restaurant’s parking space, he couldn’t help but think about what the evening would have in store for them. Enter mansion, search for hostages or secret passwords or weapons or whatever sort of villainy may be oozing behind those gold framed windows, exit mansion, pursued by bear. The dinner party scene was dreadfully tired, and he knew every trope in the book the sinister party planner could throw at him. That wasn’t their fault, of course. He’d just been around the block far too many times.

Nothing this night could throw at him could faze him, surely.

…Probably.

When Private had heard that he was finally going to have that empirical secret agent experience that his dear Uncle Nigel told him of when he was quite young, he was rather enthused by the idea. Sure, he didn’t know how many eyes he’d catch by simply walking into the room, or how many hands he’d grab in suspicious positions in proximity to his personhood, but, hey, he may have been Private, but he was Private, First Class.

All he had to do was walk among the tiny rooms of the house, and if he didn’t find anything, he didn’t find anything.

And yet, the pressure was on.

This was his first mission with the supposedly charming spy life his Uncle had romanticized, and yet, there was something about it that made his skin crawl. Maybe it was because of the noise, it was too loud everywhere all the time. Maybe it was how suspicious it would look to find him poking around where he didn’t belong. Maybe it was the fact that, although these were the missions he was pitched, these weren’t the missions he signed up for. Who was to say at this point what was the true source of his anxieties? He didn’t know, that’s for sure, and that meant nobody else really needed to know either.

As Private wandered into another bedroom, he resigned himself to a search of the closet. He doesn’t know exactly why Skipper gave him the smallest nooks and crannies to search, but maybe it was for those exact reasons. The faster he got done, the faster he could leave. Maybe pick up a pizza and hang out with Marlene for a few hours, why not? She should still be up.

The closet looked to be empty, outside of a few golden wire hangers and the weird amounts of dust and hair on the ground. This must’ve been a guest bedroom, not that he could tell, based on the fact that every other bedroom, and there were others, looked the exact same.

Private slammed the main door to try to permeate the noise from downstairs, but it permeated through, regardless. The sounds were growing to be grating, and Private could have sworn he was moments away from a legitimate breakdown, and the very idea of such a thing frightened him, which only served to fuel his anxieties even more.

So, he did the only thing he could think of. He went into the small, dark closet and closed the door, sinking to the floor. Thankfully, it muffled the sound, but it also meant he’d be able to finish up his assignment without disappointing the team. The last thing he wanted to be was the weakest link, but he was, basically by default. Not doing what was asked of him would only make this disparity in skill and rank even more apparent, and everybody would know. Everybody already knew, but this would just make everything so much WORSE. He didn’t know how, but he didn’t need to. It was apparent. It was inherent.

He felt himself begin to cry, but, this whole episode of emotional lapses felt more of an inconvenience than anything else. Surely he could schedule this for later, right? We could do this later, right?

It seemed it would be sooner than he thought as he noticed, out of the corner of his eye, light peering in. Not from the crack underneath the door. That light was warm and bright. This light felt dangerous and shined a dangerous seeming green. It looked as if it was…Emanating from the left corner of the wall, as if it wasn’t actually a part of the wall, given how it slanted. It must’ve been a door. The light had to have come from somewhere.

Of course he wouldn’t have noticed it when the light was on! The glow was far too low to be apparent in bright lighting, and Private felt a surge of happiness at this, before he remembered he’d probably have to figure out what was behind the door in the first place.

He pulled his phone out of a hidden pocket in his dress, and began to record what was in front of him, as he got as low to the ground as he could and pushed slowly on the door, with great hesitation, as the flash of green grew brighter, and as his eyes adjusted, revealed a long hallway, full of blueprints and Tesla coils and beakers and the like that glowed and bubbled and fizzed violently. The green never went away, and it never felt any less malicious.

Private - unarmed, unmanned, unprepared, and every other un-word he could think of at the moment- felt rather unsafe and uneasy at the idea of actually wandering through this rather sinister looking laboratory, but surely a badly lit video of the entrance and blueprints wouldn’t be so bad, right? They could work with this, right? Surely they could.

They’ve worked with less.

Skipper doesn’t know about the others, but he’s certain that it would’ve been a better use of time for all of them if he told them to get sloshed on the company’s dime, because he’s finding nothing.

Oh, sure, he’s found out that there’s a lot of confidential things going on at these sort of dinner parties, but it’s more of the infidelity ilk than it is doomsday weapons and ray guns. At least he understands how those work, and what he’s supposed to do when he walks in on them.

At this point opening a closed door is just asking for trouble, but, he was the one who planned this, and he has to be thorough. At least this was the last room on his list, then he could hit up one of the local sports bars and try to bleach from his memory the things he’s had to see tonight. None of which has been a doomsday device, much to his disappointment.

However, behind this door, he only sees a fancy musty bed, a window, and a slightly ajar closet door. He closes the door behind him, and jumps when it moves, startled.

The person inside the closet jumps too.

“You scared me!” Private accused, holding his phone in two hands, still clearly shaken. Skipper sighed in relief.

“Nice to see you too, Private.” Skipper said. “Find anything?”

“Yes!” Private’s eyes shined and Skipper could practically feel himself having a heart attack. “There’s something in the closet, there, like…An actual room, with plans and beakers and chemicals and those swirly things Kowalski likes, I have it all on video!” He gestured to his phone.

Skipper pumped a fist. “Nice! At least we’ll have something to show HQ.” Private gave Skipper the phone, for better safe-keeping than a hidden pocket would provide.

“You weren’t able to find anything?”

“Ehhh….” Skipper trailed off. “Nothing important, just rich people getting their rocks off.”

“Gross.”

“Yeah. Yeah…” Skipper said, clearly uninterested in the conversation as he slowly approached the door he had entered through, pressing an ear up against it.

“What is it?” Private whispered, a little confused.

Skipper listened quietly and intently as he heard urgent footsteps coming their way a distant voice saying, “I told you to guard this one-“ That was all Skipper heard before a pang of panic hit him.

“Someone’s coming our way.”

This was a perfect time for the anxiety attack to hit Private.

“What!?”

“I don’t know if they’re coming exactly our way, but I don’t know for certain they’re NOT.” Skipper said, closing the closet door, and approaching Private the same way one would a wounded animal. Private felt his palms begin to sweat, his heart was racing, he thought he was going to cry. They looked suspicious as hell, being somewhere they weren’t supposed to be, together.

…

Or were they?

They needed to be people nobody would pay any attention to. They were only as suspicious as they let themselves be. They just had to blend in.

“Skipper! I need you to kiss me right now!“

“What?” Skipper said, more confused than he had ever felt in his life, his cheeks growing hot in the millisecond he was given to process before Private kicked the back of his knee with the heel of his foot, snaked his arms around his neck, and pulled Skipper into a kiss.

Skipper panicked. He understood doomsday devices. He could not understand this for the life of him, but he’s sure he could learn, given how quickly he closed his eyes, leaned into the kiss, and let his hands wander to Private’s ass, which caused him to jump during the kiss. This somewhat knocked them off balance, but in the best way possible, as Skipper twisted in a weird way, ending up with Private on top, straddling him, causing their kiss to break.

Skipper felt like dying right now, but, as those footsteps echoed in his mind, and louder within his ears, he knew he’d be a dead man if he gave up the charade now, so he pulled Private in by the the straps of his dress and kissed him once more, earning himself a surprised squeak for it.

He felt Private’s nimble fingers pull at the buttons of his suit jacket, unbuttoning each one by one, and although he supported the effort, given that he wrapped his arms around him, he was a little anxious about the thought of how far he’d be willing to go to throw off suspicion. What if this was what made Private figure it out? After all this time too?

And given how his mouth felt on his, did he really care?

Of course, such a splendorous moment had to end, as the doors swung open and both men did literally everything they could in their power not to literally jump at the sound.

“Oi! Privacy please!” Private yelled, the blush from his face being born of pure actual embarrassment, as his voice cracked.

The head servant - Skipper assumed he was in charge based on the fact that he was the one who had opened the doors - at the very least the gall to look a little flushed, but this did nothing for his resolve. “I’m sorry ma’am, but you two will have to take your…activities elsewhere. Will you please exit the room and vacate the premises?”

Private shuffled awkwardly off of Skipper as he re-buttoned his suit jacket and straightened a notably askew tie. He only missed a button here or there given how his hands shook, and he considered that in of itself an achievement as he took Private by the hand, and left the servants to their work, not before yelling, “I guess this means I, Dr. Francis Blowhole and my lovely partner Hans are just never allowed back, huh?”

“Was that really necessary?” Private asked, as the two of them walked together on the sidewalk, 5 blocks away from the mansion they put so much effort into invading.

“I couldn’t resist.” Skipper smiled, and he almost burst out laughing then and there.

Private sighed, but his smile was soft. He wasn’t really angry, in fact he was almost euphoric. He had gotten to kiss Skipper! And Skipper kissed him back! More than once! He’d gotten to unbutton his suit jacket! He got to feel Skipper’s arms around his neck! Oh, it was such a dream…He’d kill for another evening like this one.

But then he remembered his line of work.

He remembered that Skipper and him did this under life and death pretenses. He didn’t even ask him before he really did it, he just went along with it. Probably because he didn’t have any better plans.

But despite everything telling him otherwise, he still had something that might have said otherwise.

“Are you alright?” Skipper asked. “You got really quiet all of a sudden.”

“Oh no! It’s nothing!” Private said, gesturing with his one free hand.

The one that Skipper wasn’t holding.

“That’s good. I wanted to make sure I didn’t make you uncomfortable earlier.” Skipper said, scratching at the back of his head with his one free hand.

“Oh no, I’m fine. Did I make you uncomfortable? I was the one who, uh, started the whole-“

“No, it was a brilliant plan.” Skipper said, emphatically. “You made a split second decision based on applying previous information. Sure, it was information I just told you, but, I didn’t think of it…”

Private let out a sigh in relief. “We’re just lucky we were able to pass as a couple so well, I don’t know how I’d do with Rico or-“

“Maybe we should always pretend to be couples. For missions like these,” He added. “We’d be able to investigate together, I’m sure we both missed things all things considered, and the fake out make-out seems like it could be an effective way of derailing suspicion.”

“Not to mention that we’d be able to have each other’s backs in any possible combat situations.” Private added helpfully. “I would’ve probably made it to the main laboratory if I knew I wasn’t going to get murdered the minute I entered the main wing.”

“Good point. At least that’s HQ problem now.”

“Still, it seems like the fake romance holds some water in some future co-op situations. Would Hans really attack us if it LOOKED like we were on a date?”

“He WOULD,” Skipper laughed, “and YOU know it.” Private began laughing too, and soon they were both laughing like mad men, in the streets, on their way to the closest sport’s bar to grab a pizza, surrounded by thousands of shining stars, both completely convinced that the other sees this as the perfect strategy, both completely oblivious.

(The LONGEST fanfic I’ve written ever at 3K, and it’s for the human versions of the cartoon penguins I watched when I was 10. Go figure, y’all, dreams really do come true.)

#cartoons-tothemoon #fics #pom #UM so #this is my favorite so far #it all took me by surprise and i was bouncing around reading it alksdfn #i LOVE stories where characters have to get all dressed up #and go to suspicious parties and snoop around etc #i mean i've written one with these characters too #they're PERFECT for it #but i love how mismatched and unenthused they are like #no they wanna be out in the field fucking shit up #and you know. i didn't like the fake dating trope until this #maybe because it's so freaking perfect for skivate????#they're so desperately trying to find reasons to be together #that they're not even gonna realize when the 'fake' part goes away #and ok ok i could say more introspective things here but #THE KISSING WAS HOT I'M JUST GONNA SAY #I DIDN'T SEE IT COMING #skipper goes rIGHT for the butt #so DISCREET #kdfnslknd i can't #cAN'T #bold affectionate and clueless is skivate #oh #i mean #francis and hans #duh

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thesunnyshow · 4 years

Text

Name: Li

Age: 15

Writing Blog URL(s): @meraki-mark

What fandom(s) do you write for? NCT! Formerly EXO.

Nationality: Chinese-American

Languages: English and basic Chinese

Star Sign: Virgo

MBTI: ISTJ

Favorite color: Black and blue

Favorite food: Ramen

Favorite movie: Thoroughbreds or Ferris Bueller’s Day Off

Favorite ice cream flavor: Chocolate!

Favorite animal: Owls

Coffee or tea? What are you ordering?

Coffee and a Mocha Frappuccino

Dream job (whether you have a job or not)

A realistic choice would be something to do with biochemistry writing/research, but something unconventional in my situation would be a fiction writer or a music producer.

Go-to karaoke song

Can’t sing, but if I do I usually sing anything from musicals with my friends.

If you could have one superpower, what would you choose?

Invisibility or time/space jumping.

If you could visit a historical era, which would you choose?

I would choose the Renaissance Era because of the explosion of creativity that occurred.

If you could restart your life, knowing what you do now, would you?

Maybe parts of it. I would find more creative outlets and grow as a musician and I would appreciate the effort my parents put into making sure I could learn guitar.

Would you rather fight 100 chicken-sized horses or one horse-sized chicken? Um, I think I would rather fight 100 chicken-sized horses, because a big chicken could poke my eyes out.

If you were a trope in a teen high school movie, what would you have been?

I would be a side character that had a strangely specific backstory that the movie doesn’t get into but it is clearly implied. I would probably be there to be the total cynic and judge everyone.

Do you believe in aliens/supernatural creatures? Of course! How could there just be us? Anything is possible in my mind.

Fun fact about yourself that not everyone would know?

I have owned an assorted collection of musical instruments. Currently I have three guitars. I used to have a keyboard, clarinet, and steel drum (of course a recorder since I feel like most people had one from elementary school.)

When did you post your first piece?

End of December back in 2018.

Do you write fluff/angst/crack/general/smut, combo, etc? Why?

I write a combo of lots of different genres (fluff/angst/humor). For shorter works it’s usually only fluff or angst, but I find it hard to confine a work to one genre. If there are multiple genres it adds layers to a story and I like to try to make stories as dimensional as possible.

Do you write OCs, X Readers, Ships...etc?

Currently only member x reader.

Why did you decide to write for Tumblr?

I loved writing and I didn’t really have a “thing” to write about so fanfiction would combine writing and the groups/people I loved. I was on Quotev for a while and I figured there would be a wider audience on Tumblr.

What inspires you to write?

I’m inspired by everyday things that happen to me, friends, or family. Movies and music also come in handy. I actually have two works that I’m working on based off of movies.

What genres/AUs do you enjoy writing the most?

I like writing angst the most and I swear I’m addicted to best friends and high school au’s probably because I can relate the most to it.

What do you hope your readers take away from your work?

I hope they can feel something. I hope they can see the underlying themes of joy and heartache that some of my works have. As long as they feel like they got something out of the work then that is enough for me.

What do you do when you hit a rough spot creatively?

I take a break to clear my brain and just get away from it. I play guitar or read a book. If it lasts for more than a few days I just let it sit and come back to it when I feel like I have some good material to add to it, or if it’s just that one work I try to work on another one.

What is your favorite work and why? Your most successful?

I like either “goodbye” or “too fast too slow” they’re both Mark works. I like “goodbye” since it was a concept of telling a story backwards and it was fun for me to write. I liked “too fast too slow” because I feel like I got the mutual feeling of love and caring between the characters right. My most successful is “catch me if i fall” another Mark work with the Spider-Man concept. The people love goofy Spider-Man!Mark.

Who is your favorite person to write about?

I like writing for all of them equally. Some come easier than others, but I enjoy writing for all of them since they all have different personalities I can try to portray.

Do you think there’s a difference between writing fanfiction vs. completely original prose?

I think there are very minor differences because I know some writers write members exactly as they portray their personalities in public. So for fanfiction I guess you already have a personality to build off of while for originals you have to make your own personality from scratch. I personally like changing up the personalities, but I do have that blueprint if I wanted it. When I write original pieces the point of view is usually different and not in second person. Otherwise it’s still writing and building a story.

What do you think makes a good story?

I think it really depends on what the writer wants to get across to the reader. Whether it’s the emotional rollercoaster they wrote, character development throughout the work, the pacing to keep the reader interested, or even just the dialogue or descriptions keeping the reader engaged. Good is subjective and if the writer can get the right message or the message they wanted across to the reader I think that’s a “good” story.

What is your writing process like?

Spontaneous and sporadic. I can come up with ten ideas all at once and just let them sit there for ages. When I get into writing I do write in scene order. I don’t write down an outline, I just usually have one mapped out in my head beforehand. I do bare minimum proofreading, oops, but other than that very simple steps.

Would you ever repurpose a fic into a completely original story?

I have thought about it. I’m not sure though. I wouldn’t know which one to build upon.

What tropes do you love, and what tropes can’t you stand?

I like most tropes if you hand me a work and it has some random trope I would probably read it. I’m not a fan of yandere, but other than that I would read any.

How much would you say audience feedback/engagement means to you?

I used to think it didn’t mean much, but when a couple of my works flopped (oof) I felt bad and missed the little tags in reblogs or at least a like or two. I saw a post about writers writing for them, but writers post it for others to enjoy reading it as much as they did writing it. I stand by that. I will always love writing, but I want to hear what others think of it and that’s why I post them.If someone just comments or reblogs and puts something in the tags saying that they loved it, that’s enough for me. I’m a minimalist that way.

What has been one of the biggest factors of your success (of any size)?

Just hearing people say they liked it or general encouragement from my mutuals. I love talking to other writers and getting to know them.

Do you think fanfic writers get unfairly judged?

Yes! Just because it’s about someone who is 2D in comic books or in real life like actors or singers doesn’t mean it’s any less of a piece of written work.

Do you think art can be a medium for change?

Of course. Art, let it be music, paintings, dance, writings, so on and so forth, can open a person’s eyes to all the possibilities of the world. The way someone perceives a work of art can be different from another and I think that causes great discussions. Art will always expose people to new ways of thinking and new ways to see the world.

Do you ever feel there are times when you’re writing for others, rather than yourself?

I used to. I’ve started a series, got through two chapters and then put it on hold and then discontinued it. While it was in limbo I felt bad because I knew people really liked it so I wanted to write it. Now, that same series is sitting discontinued until I can find motivation and feel like I’m writing it for me. So currently no, not anymore.

Do you ever feel like people have misunderstood you or your writing at times?

Well, maybe. I’m not sure. My works aren’t really that cryptic. Maybe with emotions that characters are feeling because I’m not very good at descriptions. Otherwise, I don’t think so.

Do your offline friends/loved ones know you write for Tumblr?

Oh no. I would rather die than them find out. They know I write, just not for Tumblr.

What is one thing you wish you could tell your followers?

Thank you for putting up with my sporadic updates and random works. I’m very inconsistent so thank you for sticking around and having enough faith in my writing to follow me.

Do you have any advice for aspiring writers who might be too scared to put themselves out there?

Just start writing whatever! It doesn’t have to be the next Charles Dickinson novel, as long as you like it then that’s enough! You may think it sounds corny or awkward at first but as you write more you’ll find a style and become comfortable. There are so many writers and most of them are always willing to help if you just ask!

Are there any times when you regret joining Tumblr?

So far no. I’ve met some pretty great people and I haven’t come across any problems yet.

Do you have any mutuals who have been particularly formative/supportive in your Tumblr journey?

Well there’s @jaemericano, Gigi, who was my first mutual and has stuck around for such a long time. @neowrld who gives killer reviews of my works. Now I’ve met @jensungf, Leyna, the best person in the world to talk to. She reached out when I was struggling with tumblr tags and then the conversation picked up from there about everything and anything. @ohnoyoonoh, Cayla, for starting our own personal foreign swaggers and being so nice to me when you first reached out, and always being so understanding about everything. @neocitybynight, sunny, who I can yell about Meteor Garden about with and I love it when she bounces ideas off of me and then we discuss our favorite types of noodles. Then to the rest of my mutuals who I have met on servers and nets.

Pick a quote to end your interview with

“In a time of destruction, create something” - Maxime Hong Kingston

BONUS: K-POP CONFIDENTIAL

#@meraki-mark #thesunnyshow #featured author #episode 20 #nct #exo

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