#we have this thing were we use newspaper and try to find related or funny/pretty pictures in it for wrapping :)

[mirillel]

The bestie is in town for her birthday today! <3

#thinking if i should've chosen a more colourful one but i went with this one because its colour scheme reminded me of her stlye #it's a kallima inachus! #anyway will wrap this bad boy up now #we have this thing were we use newspaper and try to find related or funny/pretty pictures in it for wrapping :) #personal #not tolkien

[xjoonchildx]

guarded | jhs x reader | chapter three: exotic pets

summary: you’ve tried to separate yourself from your infamous crime family, but a new case has your carefully-constructed world crashing down around you.  now you have to figure out how to heal old wounds and handle the new man who enters your orbit.

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: mafia AU, E2L, slow burn, tsundere, eventual smut

rating: 18+

word count: 3.4K

A/N: i hope you guys are enjoying the story so far! i’d love to hear what you think. thank you so much for your support. things are going to start ramping up on the whole slow burn angle from here. once again i must thank the fabulous @ladyartemesia​​ for both this killer graphic and beta reading for me -- as well as the amazing @taetaewonderland​​. pouring out a sunkist in your honor today xoxo

Chapter 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | EPILOGUE

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

It’s funny how people believe the shit they see in movies.

For instance, most film fans think it’s entirely possible to break a bottle over someone’s head.  One character grabs for an empty beer during a fight and the glass explodes in dramatic fashion with just one crack across another character’s skull.

You know better.

You know there’s way too much give to the human body to shatter glass like that.  

If you want to break a bottle you’ve got to connect with something much harder. The corner of a table.  A fireplace mantle.  That’s how it works in the real world.

You stare into the mirror and run the pad of one finger along the raised scar that mars your left collarbone.  All these years later and it’s paler and smoother but it’s still hideous, taunting you in your reflection.  

Today you cover it with an oversized scarf carefully matched to a silk blouse. Tomorrow it will be a turtleneck.  You’ve come up with dozens of ways to hide the ruined skin, but there’s never going to be a way to get rid of it.

It will always be a physical reminder that there are some pieces of your past you can never leave behind.

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

Hoseok has a cold.

There was extra gravel in his voice this morning as he went over your schedule for the day. You can detect the faint scent of a cough drop in the shared air of his car.

But he doesn’t mention it and neither do you.

This morning, you’re glad for it -- glad for the absence of small talk.

In a few minutes, you get to walk into your boss’s office and announce that half the evidence in what should be a home-run case has vanished into thin air.  You have to pretend to have no idea why someone would want to sabotage a seemingly minor prosecution of a couple of idiot gangsters and you have to do it without so much as hinting at your family’s connection to organized crime in this town.

There’s a knot in your stomach so tight you feel nauseous.

Hoseok’s phone buzzes with an incoming call from the mount on the dash and he frowns for a split-second before sending it to voicemail.  One minute later it buzzes again and he rejects it again.  Seconds later and he makes it three in a row.

You know damned well that if those calls were about business, Hoseok would have answered them right away.  The knot in your stomach tightens even more and you turn your head to stare out of the window.

It’s an unfair situation, this arrangement.  Hoseok has access to every corner of your life while you don’t know a damned thing about him.  Who would he be going home to every night if he weren’t under orders to stay with you?  Who is waiting for him when this is all over?

Someone, certainly.

Willing women are in abundance in his line of work.  You grew up around them -- a revolving door of beautiful, vulnerable girls who thought nothing of trading their bodies for gifts and cash. Women so eager for security and love they accepted whatever scraps were thrown their way.  

In a way, you were like them -- a motherless little girl living in the midst of male-dominated chaos and desperate for female connection.  You watched the way they styled their hair and applied their makeup and how they went about the myriad tasks of being women.  Then inevitably you’d grow too attached too fast only to have your heart broken when one day they just disappeared.  

And they always disappeared.

You wonder what the woman trying to reach Hoseok this morning looks like.  You wonder if she’s angry that he’s had to be away so long.  You wonder what version she gets of him and how different it must be from the version you get.  The knot in your stomach is replaced by something else.

Something you’d rather not examine too closely.

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

“You should let me take you to lunch.”

Donghyuk interrupts what must be the worst morning of your entire career without so much as a knock or a hello.  He drops into the empty chair in your office uninvited and doesn’t wait for you to answer.

“We could ditch the busy work, slip out the back entrance -- ” he grins conspiratorially,  “ -- have a two-martini meal at Congdu and then sneak into the bathroom to fool around.  What do you think?”

You groan out loud. You are not in the mood for this shit right now.

“This is not a good time, ‘Hyuk.”

He sighs. “Yeah, I heard.”

Of course he’s heard. Everyone in a hundred-foot radius has heard. To say your bosses were displeased with the bomb you dropped on them this morning is an understatement.

“So then why are you in my office asking me to go day drinking?  Do you want me to be fired?”

“Of course not,” he says, looking offended. “I just thought you deserved a break from the madness for a minute.”

You laugh without a hint of humor.

“I’m going to get a permanent break from the madness if I don’t rescue this case somehow.  So no -- no lunch today.  Probably no lunch for the next six months, actually.”

Donghyuk frowns.

“Dinner, then?  There’s a new spot in Gangnam I’ve been wanting to try. We could go tomorrow night.”

Christ, the man is insistent these days.

You are too mentally worn out to figure out why your casual arrangement with Donghyuk feels a hell of a lot less casual of late.  If he’s suddenly decided he wants more than just the occasional meal-to-mattress thing you’ve enjoyed for months, he’s in for a disappointment.  You are tapped out.

“I’ve got -- It’s just complicated for me right now,” you manage.

“Yeah, I get it,” he agrees sympathetically. “The bodyguard thing, right?”

“Right,” you repeat slowly, mind suddenly flipping back to Hoseok. Back to this morning’s car ride.

Back to those missed calls.

Something childish and petty and unbecoming stirs inside of you.

“You know what? Dinner tomorrow night could work, actually.”

Donghyuk leans back and smiles wide.

“Great.”

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

Hoseok’s cold hasn’t improved.

The ride to the restaurant is radio silent, but for the sound of his occasional sniffle.  You could have sworn you saw actual displeasure cross his face when you’d asked him to take you to meet Donghyuk tonight.  It feels like the air between you is crackling with tension.  

But it’s probably your imagination.

Hoseok says nothing as he closes the car door behind you, nothing as he holds the door to the restaurant open for you, and nothing when you thank him as you step inside.

Donghyuk has a table waiting. No small feat because this place is packed.  

It’s a brand-new restaurant and apparently one of the most expensive and coveted dining spots in the city.  In an instant, it dawns on you that there’s no table for Hoseok.  You turn to ask him where he wants to be, but he brushes past you to take a seat at the bar.

Again, he says nothing.

You huff your frustration under your breath as you slide into the chair across from Donghyuk.  He’s got a snifter of what’s sure to be some pricey brandy in his hand.

“Germain-Robin Select Barrel,” he declares, swirling the amber liquid in his glass before taking a sip.  “Best stuff in town.”

Of course it is.  

Donghyuk is accustomed to having only the best of the best; a natural by-product of his upbringing.  You’ve known one another since you were pupils at the same prep school, living parallel lives. You both had expensive homes and pricey tutors and fancy clothes -- but his family graced the pages of the society magazines while yours graced the pages of the newspapers.

This thing you have with him is supposed to be easy; an uncomplicated diversion. But lately, it's a hell of a lot less satisfying than it used to be.  Either Donghyuk is really getting more self-absorbed and less interesting -- or you are just starting to not give a shit about anything he has to say.

He’s droning on about something golf-related when you tune out completely. Your eyes wander to Hoseok at the bar.  

He still hasn’t ordered anything to eat and a drink sits untouched on the bartop.

“Sharp dresser, that guy.”

“What?”

You swing your focus back to Donghyuk like you’ve just come out of a trance.

“The bodyguard,” he says around a fork full of food.  “He’s got pretty good taste for some street gangster. I should find out where he shops.”

You’re caught by surprise -- by his comment, by the way it makes your chest tighten.  By the force of the second-hand embarrassment you suddenly feel on behalf of Hoseok.

“He’s not some -- street gangster,” you say quietly, slowly.

“Oh, he’s not?” Donghyuk asks, looking genuinely confused.  “He’s not one of your brother’s guys?”

Red-hot anger blossoms inside of you so fast you can barely contain it.  You stare Donghyuk down with the most venomous look you can muster.

“I didn’t say he wasn’t,” you bite out. “But you have no clue what you’re talking about. And keep any mention of my brother out of your mouth.”

“Jeez, sorry,” Donghyuk fires back, lifting his hands in surrender.  “I didn’t realize I was touching on a nerve. I thought you hated your family. That’s what everyone says, anyway.”

You jerk out of the chair so abruptly it nearly falls back.  The napkin in your lap falls to the floor and the people sitting at the tables nearby stop to look. Donghyuk’s mouth falls open with surprise.

“I’m done,” you grind out, grabbing for your purse.

“Sit down,” Donghyuk hisses. “You’re making a scene.”

“She said she’s done.”

You never saw Hoseok move, never registered him leaving the bar -- but when you rip your gaze away from Donghyuk, he is at your side.  

Hoseok opens his wallet and throws a pile of bills down on the table.  He doesn’t spare a glance at Donghyuk as he calmly ushers you away from the table.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

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

The ride home from the restaurant is just as silent as the ride there.

Hoseok drives and you stare blankly out the window as you replay Donghyuk’s words in your mind.

I thought you hated your family. That’s what everyone says.

Yes -- you hated your father.  You had your reasons and you had earned that right.

But Namjoon?  Never.  You could never hate your brother.  

The fact that you’d given anyone -- even Donghyuk -- reason to believe otherwise makes you feel sick to your stomach.  Shames weighs so heavy on your chest it feels like you can’t breathe.

You don’t even have the energy to devote to being embarrassed at how that whole scene played out in front of Hoseok.  By the time he walks you into your apartment, you’re just desperate to wash up and fall into bed.  Hoseok lingers in the living room but you don’t even look at him.  You head straight for your bedroom.

The tears come the moment the latch clicks closed.

Followed closely by the screams.

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

HOSEOK

What a shitty way to end what had really shaped up to be an enjoyable night.

Hoseok could see the moment things went south at dinner.  You’d looked disinterested from the second you sat down, distracted the entire time you ate your meal.  But then the strangest look came over you at the end, something Hoseok couldn’t quite decipher.  Until it was replaced by something he understood loud and clear from all the way across the room.

Fury.

It was way too fucking satisfying, really.  

The look on that idiot’s face when you humiliated him in front of an entire restaurant full of his shitty little peers.  The way his mouth dropped open when you told him you were done and the way his cheeks burned red when Hoseok tossed the money on the table.

That would have been the perfect way to end the night.  

But then you started screaming.

Hoseok’s body is moving before his mind does. In seconds, he’s crossed the apartment and ripped your bedroom door open.

“Holy shit,” he breathes.

You are pressed against the far wall of the room, staring down at the floor.  Hoseok follows your terrified gaze down to the large black snake coiled just a few feet away.  

“Okay, wow. Fuck,” he mutters, shoving his hand through this hair, trying like hell to formulate a cohesive thought.  “Okay just...just stay calm for me, okay? Can you do that?”

You say nothing, out of screams and out of words as you stare back at him. It’s clear that no, staying calm is the last thing you can do right now but staying silent is a pretty good second option.

“I have to leave you for a second, okay?  Just one second.  Can you stay calm for me?” Hoseok repeats, taking a tentative step out the door.  “You don’t have to answer me, just nod. I’m going to be back in seconds and I’m going to get this thing out of here.  Are you with me?”  

Hoseok watches as you pull in one shaky breath and nod woodenly.  That’s all the affirmation he needs.

He runs to rip a pillowcase off one of the pillows on his bed.  When he gets back to your room, the snake has stretched it’s long body into a flat line and you look somehow more terrified than you did when he left.  

“I’m back, okay?” he reassures, even though he’s certain you already know that.  But you won’t take your eyes off that snake and he wants you to hear the artificial calm in his voice. “Don’t make any sudden moves. I’m going to get this thing into this pillowcase in my hands.”

He talks you through what he’s doing like it’s going to somehow reinforce that he’s in control when he knows that he’s anything but.  Hoseok has seen and done a lot of weird shit in this line of work, but he’s never had to wrangle a fucking snake.  He has a basic understanding of what needs to be done, but that’s still a far damned cry from actually doing it.  

He takes one deep breath and starts forward with careful steps.

The fact that the snake has uncoiled might work to his advantage, he reasons.  From this angle he can probably reach the tail without coming too close to the head.  He knows that whatever move he makes has to be fast and decisive -- and he understands instinctively that your composure relies almost entirely on him maintaining his.

He sees you clap a hand over your mouth to stop from screaming when he grabs for the snake.  The animal’s long body undulates in his grip, stronger than he expected, and he has to pull back when the snake swings its head in his direction.  The entire debacle couldn’t have lasted any more than five seconds, but by the time Hoseok gets an opportunity to pull the pillowcase over the snake’s body, it feels like an eternity.

He wonders if you could see how badly his hands were shaking the entire time.

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

“So wait, what kind of snake is it?”

“Fuck Yoongi, I don’t know,” Hoseok snaps, pulling the cabinets under your bathroom sink open. He rifles through the contents, checking to make sure nothing else has been left behind.

“Black. Shiny. Doesn’t look friendly.  You gonna come help me toss this apartment or do you want to talk exotic pets?”

“Don’t be a dick,” Yoongi chuckles, “and don’t do anything to that snake. I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

Hoseok ends the call without so much as a goodbye.  

He takes a break from inspecting your room to walk out into the living room to check on you.  You are seated cross-legged on your couch, staring into nothing.

“Yoongi is on his way,” he says, rubbing one hand across the back of his neck. “He’s going to help me do a deep dive in all the rooms.”

You don’t respond.

“You okay?”

You turn your head slowly and blink up at him like you’ve just registered the sound of his voice.  

“Uh, yeah,” you say slowly, even though you sound anything but. “I’m okay.”

Hoseok tongues his cheek. He wishes he knew what to do or what to say to make you feel more at ease.  He chides himself for the thought almost as soon as it comes.  You probably wouldn’t want to hear it from him, anyway.

“Alright,” he sighs, turning back towards your bedroom. “Just give me a minute to get through everything in here and then you can get some sleep.”

“Hoseok?”

You call to him from the couch and he turns back to face you.  

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

Something twists inside Hoseok’s stomach at the despondent look on your face.  It’s such a contrast to the look he saw tonight at the restaurant -- the fiery, angry one that made him feel like he could understand you a bit more.  He would rather see any other version of you than the one he sees right now.

“You’re welcome,” he says thickly, turning away to get back to work.

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

You are still sleeping when Hoseok leaves Seokjin at your apartment in his place.

Namjoon is standing at his office window this morning, like he often does when he’s thinking.  Yoongi nods when Hoseok enters the office and helps himself to the only other empty chair.

“What happened last night?” Namjoon asks, not bothering to turn away from the window.  

Yoongi shoots Hoseok a look that says you first and Hoseok returns with one of his own that says no shit, sherlock.

“There’s not much that you’re not already briefed on,” Hoseok starts, “I brought your sister home from a social outing and when we got home she found a snake on her bedroom floor. I was able to contain the snake and Yoongi and I searched every inch of the apartment after that.  Didn’t turn up anything else.”

“Any sign of forced entry?”

“No,” Hoseok admits.  “I couldn’t find any.  I have a locksmith working with Seokjin on replacing the deadbolt again this morning.”

“Right,” Namjoon says, turning away from the window to walk back to his desk.  “So that makes twice now that we’ve changed her locks, twice now that someone has managed to get in anyway.  What about the cameras outside?”

“I checked the footage,” Yoongi says. “Someone used a pole or a stick to put a physical block over the lens.  It was still up there when I checked this morning.  Duct tape.”

Namjoon scrubs a hand across his jaw, sighs out loud.

“Fuck. Where are we with tracking the Lee girl?”

Yoongi clears his throat.  “I’ve been out on a few runs so far; nothing out of the norm.  Work to home to work. I’ve got Jimin and Tae checking out some other stuff but nothing to report back yet.”

“Keep digging,” Namjoon insists. “She has everything she needs.  The knowledge and the access, but most importantly she has my sister’s trust.  That’s what worries me the most.”

He turns his attention to Hoseok.  “My sister. How is she holding up?”

Hoseok thinks back to the way you looked last night, back to that blank look on your face.

Not well.

“She’s tired,” he replies carefully. “Stressed out because she’s trying to rescue her case.  The snake shit did not help.”

“I’m sure it didn’t.”

“Speaking of which -- ” Yoongi interjects, “ -- that snake.  It’s an Indigo snake.  Not venomous.”

Namjoon lifts one eyebrow.

“I’m saying the Ssijog are not trying to hurt her, not really.  They only want to scare her into fucking up this case,” Yoongi reasons. “Trust me, they don’t want to make shit worse for themselves right now by adding a dead prosecutor to the mix.”

Hoseok winces at the logical-but-clumsy delivery of that last line.

Namjoon’s mouth pulls into a tight line as he leans back in his chair and steeples his fingers.  Hoseok has worked for the man long enough to know that he’s not the type to lash out when he gets angry.  Namjoon is the type to go quiet.  

Like right now.

He narrows his eyes at Yoongi before opening his mouth to speak.

“You’re probably right about that, Yoongi,” he says in a low, careful tone.  “But let me ask you this.  Is that a bet you’re willing to make with my sister’s life on the line?”

Yoongi -- wisely -- doesn’t answer that.

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

tag list!

@saintjeonofbusan​ @lemonjoonah​ @illnevertrustmyselfagain​ @sunkissed725​ @taetaewonderland​ @shadowhale​ @sugaminyoonjiji​ @jinhitwhore​ @trust-me-im-joly​ @daydreambrliever​ @jjeonjoon​ @ultraanonymousey​ @yoon-bug​ @multistantrash17​ @poohsaidhi​ @alyboo-jpeg​ @sahmfanficbts​​ @yoongissugarmommy @ppersonna​​ @p-polaroid​​ @vi-hoshi​​ @stressedinmedschool247​​ @jgissle12​​ @ctvrty​​

#hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #bts mafia #bts tsundere #hoseok mafia au #bangtanarmynet #btswriterscollective #ksmutclub #ficswithluv #btscreatorscorner #networkbangtan

[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

Whoo boy, been a little bit. I can’t really say much besides IRL sucks, so. Back to something that doesn’t suck, which is BNHA. This chapter is dedicated to the good bean Tenya, especially his little smile which forced me to change my pfp on discord because I just couldn’t.

I was kinda planning on doing arc summaries between sections, but honestly, the BNHA wiki already has those, so if you don’t want to go back and read through all the posts I’ve done for the pre-USJ chapters, just head over there and do a skim of the summaries there, I guess?

[No. 12 - Yeah, Just Do Your Best, Iida!]

I just love how his hand gestures are actual effective tools against enemies, I cannot even. Also, a good and friendly reminder that carbonated drinks stall his engines! I have never seen that used in fanfic, whether for crack or whump purposes… a shame.

We head right into the next morning from that battle training, with the kids being held up by the media as they ask about All Might. Izuku is a bundle of nerves as he awkwardly excuses himself to the nurse’s office, Ochako is a darling who describes All Might as super muscly, and Tenya goes into a whole ass speech with a lot of fancy language to explain the honor of being at UA and learning under All Might. 

(Honestly, I find it hard to determine whether this is genuinely earnest or if he’s picked up media warding skills from his parents and older brother. It’s probably genuine, but I just love the idea behind low-key troll master Tenya who learned from the best, aka his older brother.)

Katsuki, unfortunately, is still known as ‘the kid from the sludge incident’, which I mean. I am so fucking baffled at how long the media in this have held onto that 'sludge incident' thing, like, you'd think they'd have moved on to other things by now and don't really think about it much.

It’s the same with the general public (as seen in chapter 3), like, yes, I too would have a fucking complex and anger issues if all anyone thought about in relation to me wasn't my high grades or my skill in combat or anything, but that one time a year ago where I was almost suffocated to death while the people who were supposed to save my life did fucking nothing. I mean, Katsuki has always had a complex, but This Didn't Help.

Moving on, we see the media wondering who the fuck this messy looking dude waving them off is, while Aizawa just. Fucking shoos them like they’re dogs or kids or something. His words seem like a vague attempt at being polite about shooing them, but with the hand gesture, well. Basically comes off more as a chastisement. 

...honestly, this feels so weird that no one knew about it even though the kids who got in got a message from All Might saying he’d be teaching there. The only thing I and the others can assume is that there was an NDA on him teaching until it was announced to the newspapers on the first day of classes. Which would explain why it didn’t hit the news until said day…

Whatever, it’s weird, let’s just move on.

One of the reporters steps forward, asking/demanding a chance to speak to All Might about his sudden shift to teaching, only for the guy behind her to try and call out a warning - just a touch too late, as the sensors over the gate react, causing the daunting hunk of metal serving as a gate to slam closed right in front of her. Gonna guess she’s new to the reporting scene. The guy explains that the UA barrier locks down if someone without a school ID approaches the gate, and that supposedly there are more sensors throughout the campus.

The panel gives us a diagram of the three ‘levels’ of sensors - the gate/wall around the school, the walkway to the school, and the school itself. Which I think correlates to the security levels that come up later, since it’s a ‘level three’ breach, which means the school was broken into. Was it… always that fucking simple and I just totally glossed over that detail until now? orz

While the newsfolk complain about not getting comments from UA, we get to see the back of a ~mysterious figure~ who definitely isn’t the primary antagonist of the entire series. God, you can see his individual neck vertebrae.

Horrifying.

We transition to 1a’s homeroom, with Aizawa going over the battle training as well as their grades / evaluations. Aizawa calls out Katsuki and tells him to grow up and stop wasting his talent, which Katsuki grudgingly accepts. Izuku jolts at being called out next over his broken arm, and accepts the chastisement of learning to control his quirk, because trying isn’t going to cut it. Aizawa does soften the blow, however, by repeating that Izuku has potential, assuming he overcomes that issue.

With that done, Aizawa ‘Plus Extra™’ Shouta gets the whole class tense by drawing out the next class announcement. While I think it’s a translation error, the whole class sweating as they wonder whether it’s another brutal pop quiz is hella funny. (I’m guessing it was meant to be ‘test’ which would reference to the quirk assessment as well as the battle training, but ah well.) The whole class sighs in relief as one as Aizawa finally reveals that their task for the morning is to choose a class president - a normal, school-like thing in comparison to the past two days.

Pretty much the entire class has their hands raised to volunteer for the position, with Katsuki being particularly aggressive about it (as per the norm). Even Izuku has his hand shyly lifted up from the desk, while his narration notes that the position in normal schools entails mundane tasks, but in UA’s hero course means leading the group - a position suited for a top hero in the making.

Tenya calls for them all to quiet down, drawing attention as he goes on to explain how leading people is a task of heavy responsibility, but that ambition is not equal to ability. He is so intense it’s hilarious as he explains how the office demands the trust of its constituents, and that if it’s to be a democracy, then he puts forward the motion that they choose their leader through election.

Seriously this is just so fucking hilarious, I love this boy so much. And I love whoever it is that calls out that this is a classroom, not congress. 

Tsuyu points out that the class hasn’t known each other long enough to build trust, and Kirishima notes that everyone will vote for themselves. Tenya points out that that is precisely the reason that anyone who gets multiple votes will be the best suited for the job. He then checks with Aizawa if this is allowable, which the teacher agrees to so long as it’s quick. And a quick transition, we reveal the winners-

Izuku with three votes, and Momo with two.

Everyone else, it seems, still has one vote, which was their own (as predicted). Izuku is shook. Katsuki is shaking in anger as he demands to know who the hell voted for Deku. Ochako is whistling and looking away, thinking that she’d better not let Katsuki find out.

(Also of note is that Sero is already approaching Katsuki and making a joke here about it being obvious Katsuki wasn’t one of Izuku’s votes, and then seemingly laughing a bit when Katsuki’s temper turns on him?

Hard to say for sure, but it seems Sero is the first of Katsuki’s future friend group to approach him and get away with poking at his temper. Which I feel is something very much overlooked by the fandom in favor of Kirishima for fairly obvious reasons.)

Tenya, meanwhile, is in a funk as he notes he has no votes, and that that is the harsh reality of office. Momo is concerned as she notes that zero votes meant he voted fro someone else, while Sato points out that Tenya was the one to suggest the election, so what did he seriously want? Izuku and Momo go to the front of the class - Izuku a nervous wreck while Momo’s just exasperated with the situation. Aizawa confirms their positions as he gets out of his sleeping bag, and the class talk a bout about the suitability of the chosen pair while Tenya continues to sulk in his seat.

With that, the first half of the chapter is done, so I’ll call it here. I can certainly say I learned a thing or two today, and I hope y’all did as well!

#readthrough #chapter 12 #usj arc #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #Iida Tenya #aizawa shouta #good to be back #real life is a pain and a half #I would have worked on this yesterday #but the manga site broke #also more food for the sero baku friendship fans

[soyouareandrewdobson]

Alex ze Pirate “Mini Review” 1: About Male Abuse

Alex ze Pirate is in my opinion the WORST “comic” series Dobson has ever written up until this point (date for archives: June 2020). Sure, I agree with people that his “hot take” comics on Star Wars Fans, political issues and virtue signaling for the sake of making brownie points are worse overall cause they are uneducated propaganda that give insight in how much of a loathsome human being driven by spite he genuinely is, but Alex “offends” me as someone who enjoys fiction. It may not be the worst thing ever written, but it just does so many things wrong in terms of storywriting, storytelling, presentation and creating fictional characters, I can’t help but wonder what went wrong that Dobson even remotely thought this thing would be a “successful” comic series to establish him as a creator. Cause I can tell you, having read the likes of Don Rosa’s work on Disney, Hilda, Cleopatra in Space, Spirou, Asterix, One Piece (of which I will talk a lot in my next few posts) and many more, I can confirm by comparison that Dobson’s pirates as a published comic would have only one use on the public shelves: alternative for toilet paper during the COVID-19 epidemic

 Believe me, I would love to write an in depth analysis of everything wrong with Alex ze Pirate, from the lazy artwork up to even the publication history of this trainwrack. But doing so would take a lot of time and there is one individual part of this I think deserve at least extra attention. Something that in my opinion embodies quite well a lot of things I consider wrong with this comic. So before I am going over Alex in its entirety (and believe me, the day will come) let me just talk within the next few posts about one certain aspect and story of the comic, that genuinely got me to loath this comic to the core: Sam the Cabin Boy and “his” own individual story Dobson drew in three parts around 2010.  

For starters, lets talk who Sam is: Sam is one of the main characters in the comic and actually the first person who joined Alex and Peggy in the initial pages of Legends, the “original” form of Alex ze Pirate.

See, back in 2004, Dobson released Alex ze Pirate in form of a single comic volume called “Legends” which features Alex trying to recruit a crew. The thing is around 78 pages thick and based on what I saw pretty terribly paced. For comparison: When Luffy in One Piece got his crew together, he spend multiple volumes and at least three minor story arcs to get Zoro, Nami, Sanji and Usopp to join him. All while also giving us good insight into the kind of people his new crewmates were (especially Sanji’s and Nami’s backstory got to me), defeating the likes of Buggy and Captain Black, meeting Dracula Mihawk and defeating one of the biggest bastards Eichiro Oda ever created in form of Arlong. What is the story how Sam joins the crew? An orphanage organizes an auction and sells kids off. Which I assume was even illegal in pirate times, so kudos for already showing us how despicable the world of Alex ze Pirate is to begin with and how much it deserves to be nuked in some sort of alien invasion.

 Sam also doesn’t really get anything to do when he is introduced, just helping Alex escape on a small boat. Which is weird because he does not know her at all, she is just some stranger who bought him off and has no means to keep him in check, so why even bother following her and not let the mob get rid of Alex? 

Anyway, I wish I could tell more about Sam’s involvement in Legends, but I don’t have really more than some scans of it in the beginning and near the end. So I don’t know his involvement in the rest of the volume. I also can’t say how he plays out in volume two, because that does not exist at all. Cause for reasons I will never understand, Dobson just abandoned the idea of telling a “coherent” and ongoing story with Alex ze Pirate and instead went to his colored one page comics/strips with it, turning it into what some people called “Garfield with Pirates” (which I consider a genuine insult towards any newspaper comic out there, even something as Boondocks). And the first thing we see of Sam in “classic” Alex ze Pirate?

 The perverted dwarf of the crew showing of his shota underwear so that Alex and Sam stop bickering who is the cutest, leaving him embarrassed and humiliated.

 Which kinda sums up his role in the comic to a t. Cause this is what Sam is: He is the buttmonkey of the crew. And honestly, I would not have a total problem with Sam being a buttmonkey, if a) he wasn’t it all the time, b) he would actually do something to deserve any form of humiliation and c) if the other characters in this comic itself would not be some of the biggest assholes I have ever seen, who get away with abusing the poor lad.

 See, here is the problem: In a crew featuring a choleric homophobic soulless ginger

 A black rat person who wants to fuck the ginger even without her consent

 A furry abomination that has the same brain wavelengths as Chris Chan 

And a perverted dwarf who tries to impersonate Happosai from Ranma 1/2

 Sam is the only decent person in the entire crew. He works hard, he even questions the morality of his friends at times, he is honest, he is not perverted, almost good to the point of childish innocence and he has a very humble “goal” which is he wants to own his own piece of gold. Not even a big pile of treasure, just one single coin would be enough for him.

 So he is likeable and relatable. In fact, if anything goes by, he may have been one of the most popular ones in the comic. And yet he is the one who gets constantly abused by “fate” and his friends, because as Dobson would say it, he is supposed to be the buttmonkey. There is just one problem: People do not necessarily like buttmonkeys.

I can primarily speak only for myself here, but I hope what I have to say resonates with others too. See, I get it: A character who is the butt of a joke can be fun. Like Daffy in Duck Amuck. But there is a fine line where a character being humiliated for the sake of a joke is fun (and perhaps even deserved because of his own shortcomings or deeds/actions that make the humiliation sort of kharmic, like lets say Johnny Bravo) and a character being humiliated to the point it feels disproportional, unfunny and mean spirited if not outright sadistic, can be crossed. Take Meg Griffin from Family Guy for example whose only “purpose” for existing within the last 12+ years is to get shat on by her family and the writers. People have no idea for a plot with her, so what do they do? Have her father physically and emotionally abuse her, fart in her face for what is supposed to count as a joke and then add additional insult to it by acknowledging that they are only doing this, because they have no other idea for her and think abuse is fun. Let me just tell you from experience, it is not.

And that is essentially what Sam is: He is the Meg Griffin of Alex ze Pirate, used by his creator as the butt of very unfunny jokes, even if he does not deserve any of the things said or done to him. Want to see some examples?

 How about the description Dobson gives Sam within the introduction of one of his volumes, showing how little Dobson as the creator even cares for him.

Why is he called an unworthy “slob” if he is the only one who actually works? Shouldn’t a slob be someone like Dobson, who can’t even take care of himself anymore? Also the confirmation that he was kidnapped at the age of 16. And as we have no clarification how much time passed between Legends Vol. 1 and anything afterwards, that means that in a way Alex is a child abuser.

And now, here some examples by the rest of the cast. Like Uncle Peggy framing him for all sorts of his perverted actions and even trying to kill him for no apparent reason?

Alex trying to kill him with chicken pox…

…Destroying all his worldly posessions which is hilarious because he is a poor orphan…

…Essentially describing him as worthless because he was born with an Y-chromosome…

… doing the kind of thing Dobson claims women would never do to man, using their sex appeal to hurt them…

…forcing him to do some unnecessary and rather petty work for her in a physics defying manner (seriously, the way he holds the axe does not compute with how he swings it. Try it out yourself)

… stealing his food and just being a cruel sadistic cunt to him just because it is fun.

Which is “funny” in so far as that there are a few comics indicating she would jump his dick and ride it like a little pony if she could.

 By the way, Talus and Atea are not better. None of them calls Alex out on her bullshit on average, Atea uses Sam to trigger traps in one story arc…

And Talus, the closest to a “friend” he is supposed to have, once for no apparent reason made him dig through his litterbox

And don’t get me even started when the characters decide to gang up on Sam, to the point he gets sexually harassedor is called to be less worth as a human being than the dirt you find in your belly button

Fuck’s sake, even in fanart everyone gangs up on him, even the freaking big bad of the story everyone is supposed to hate or be afraid of

 Bottom line, Sam is an abuse victim played for laughs in this comics. And just to clarify, I do not think this was Dobson’s intention. But if the character is undeservingly the butt of jokes for the majority of over 120 strips, it turns nasty. The way Sam is treated, I just find disgusting and indictive of just how unlikable any other character in this comic is to the point I do not want to see this being turned into a proper “franchise”. And I assume others were disgusted by it too, cause Dobson eventually decided to make a story more or less addressing the treatment Sam receives, while also attempting to prove that deep down the assholes with starring roles in this trainwrack care for him. How did this play out? Well, I am going to talk about it, so likely not well. If you want to see the details, grab yourself some popcorn and take a toilet break before we tackle part 2 of this thing.

#andrew dobson #so you are a cartoonist #sjw #comics #comic #webcomic #alex ze pirate #sam the cabin boy #legends #tom preston #disgusting #male abuse #unfunny

[yegarts]

Meet Your Makers: Michael Hingston

Presented by TIX on the Square

If you’re a collector of beautiful books and ephemera, you’ve likely heard of Michael Hingston. If not, you’re in for a treat. He’s half the team at Hingston & Olsen Publishing, an independent press known and loved for its Edmontonia Trading Cards, Short Story Advent Calendar, and deluxe boxsets. Finding stories and giving them a permanent home is Michael’s passion. As you’re about to discover, so is writing, reading, collecting, and being a big stubborn believer in paper books. Meet this week’s maker, Michael Hingston.

TIX: We’re taught to believe it’s what’s inside that counts, but it’s impossible to ignore the beauty of your books and boxsets. Tell us about your decision to not only publish books but also celebrate them as art.

M.H.: Well, thank you! When Natalie (my co-publisher) and I decided to form Hingston & Olsen, in 2015, one of the first things we agreed on was that our books would be beautiful objects in their own right. At the time it seemed like everyone was panicking about the future of publishing in the age of e-books. We decided to double down on the qualities that you can only get from physical books: the tactile feel of paper, pops of colour, and an interactive presentation that you just can’t replicate on a tablet. It’s a better reading experience, not to mention a better deal for our readers in the long term. Ten years from now you probably won’t have access to an e-book you bought today, but every book on your bookshelves will still open up like it always did.

TIX: Which of your strengths (or experiences) as a writer have helped you succeed as a publisher?

M.H.: I’d say it comes down to empathy. Publishing is an act of faith between writer and publisher, and understanding the creative process—with all its up and downs—gives me an extra level of appreciation for the work that our writers entrust us with. That’s not something we take lightly. All of our editorial and design choices are made with the goal of presenting the text in the best light possible. I want writers to love working with us, and to feel that their work is in good hands.

TIX: What’s the first thing you wrote that inspired your career path?

M.H.: That’s a great question. The truth is I didn’t start reading or writing seriously until I was in university and fell in with the student newspaper there. I remember my first few production nights—which routinely kept us in the office until past midnight—where I would frantically write something on deadline, then look at it in print the following week and think, “Huh, that’s actually not bad.” Then we had to do it all over again for the next issue, which was a big part of the charm.

TIX: Tell us about your Edmontonia Trading Cards and what inspired the idea.

M.H.: The Edmontonia Trading Cards are a set of all-ages collectible trading cards that showcase this odd, charming, mostly frozen city of ours. Each card features original artwork

from one of 12 different local artists on the front, and an entertaining and informative write-up about that subject—from landmarks to urban wildlife to the four phases of West Edmonton Mall—on the back. They come in randomized packs of 8, and there are 60 total cards to collect. You can get them at independent shops around the city, or from our website (edmontonia.ca).

The idea for the cards was two-fold: (1) Thinking how cool it would be to make a set of non-sports-related trading cards, and (2) Figuring out what to do with all these odd little stories I was gathering about my adopted home. When I first moved to Edmonton, back in 2008, I kept having all these questions about what I was seeing. Like, why do all these buildings look like pyramids? What’s the deal with magpies? Sure, it’s cold, but what’s the coldest it’s ever been? As soon as those two ideas merged, I got to work, and I’m really proud of how it all turned out.

TIX: Your projects all seem to celebrate reading as an experience—combining the physical act of opening a beautiful “gift” with the pleasures of reading. What was the inspiration for that equation?

M.H.: The age of paper being the default vehicle for communication is gone. Digital technology is way more convenient, and also generates less clutter in people’s lives. But that doesn’t mean paper has no function. As mentioned above, I’m a big, stubborn believer in paper books—and I think one of the things they do exceptionally well is ground the reader in a particular time and place, having a particular experience. Throwing in extra layers, like the element of surprise in the Short Story Advent Calendar or opening a pack of random Edmontonia cards, just makes that experience a little more fun.

TIX: Far too often, the conversations around print publishing are centered around worry for it and what’s being lost. What excites you about the future of print publishing and your role in shaping it?

M.H.: As more of our lives go digital, the funny thing is that people actually become hungrier for offline entertainment. (Have you seen the internet joke about spending all day at work looking at the bad screen, then coming home to look at the good screen? I hate how much I relate to it.) We all want to unplug, or at least to stop doomscrolling for a while. This is a big opportunity for print! It’s one of the few modes of entertainment we have that doesn’t require electricity. That’s one reason H&O doesn’t do e-books. We want to give people a different experience, because we believe there’s value in it.

TIX: Your books and advent calendars have become a favourite gift to receive. What’s a favourite book you’ve been given (and who gave it to you)?

M.H.: I love books about books, and two of the chunkiest and most beloved ones on my shelves were gifts: John Sutherland’s Lives of the Novelists, given to me by my friend Jeremy before he moved away (he’s actually since moved back; hopefully he doesn’t want the book returned, too), and Michael Schmidt’s The Novel: A Biography, which was a Christmas present from my brother.

TIX: You’ve said that the retirement of your Advent Series has freed you up to work on some exciting new ideas. Can you tell us a little about them?

M.H.: We try to keep a pretty tight lid on things at H&O, but I can tell you we’re planning to release more titles in 2021 than we ever have in a given year before. That’ll include something new for the holidays, as well as our first-ever standalone novel.

Want more? Visit hingstonandolsen.com, edmontonia.ca and tixonthesquare.ca for the latest from Michael and other great artists.

Artist Bio

Michael Hingston is a writer and book publisher. He is the author of three books, including Let’s Go Exploring, a history of the comic strip Calvin and Hobbes. His journalism has appeared in Wired, The Guardian, The Atlantic, and the Washington Post. Hingston is also the co-founder of Hingston & Olsen Publishing, an independent press specializing in deluxe boxsets like the Short Story Advent Calendar and the Ghost Box. He lives in Edmonton with his family.

#yeg #yegarts #yegmakers #meetyourmakers #edmonton #tixonthesquare

[dreamcatcherfication]

The Girl Who Cried Wolf

Another requested fic! Anon asked “Anne loves her fun/carefree/’gremlin’ reputation - but what happens when people just stop taking her seriously?” I feel like this is awfully accurate for a April Fools Post... I’m not sure what happened with this one, but I hope it has a coherent plot, my brain feels like scrambled eggs right now. Sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors my brain feels like - well - scrambled eggs right now.

Writing Masterpost

If you want to send a request or a prompt, my inbox is always open! I publish a story at 8:00 AM PST everyday, so I’m always in need of new ideas (now featuring random asks). If you want to be tagged in my works, just let me know and I’ll be sure to tag you!

Prompts | More Prompts | The Trifecta of Prompts | Random Asks

Trigger Warnings: Blood, vomit, hospitals, stomach sicknesses

“AGH! Help me!” Anne called, clutching her stomach in pain. “I’m - I’m -”

Kat was immediately at Anne’s side, holding the prone girl in her arms. “Annie, Annie what’s wrong!” she cried, clearly in distress by Anne’s pain.

Anne wailed and rolled into a ball. The other queens circled her, all of them silent and terrified of whatever was hurting Anne. “You have to help me,” Anne gasped, grabbing Kat’s hand.

“I will Annie!” Kat promised her cousin, pulling her closer.

Mumbling, Anne motioned for Kat to come closer. When she was close enough, Anne whispered, “My stomach.”

Frantically moving her attention down to Anne’s stomach, Kat bit her lip. Anne had her hands covering her stomach, making it impossible for Kat to see what was wrong. Leaning forward, she noticed a tinge of red around Anne’s hand. Gasping, Kat lifted Anne’s hands to see the wound.

Squeaking in surprise, Kat jerked back when Anne threw her hands forward and splashed blood all over Kat. The blood went everywhere and Anne started laughing at Kat’s shocked face. Sitting up, Anne wiped her bloody hands on her shirt, perfectly fine. “Oh, you should’ve seen your face,” she continued to laugh.

Kat’s head was down as she tried to hide tears in her eyes. “Annie?”

“What the hell was that, Anne?” Aragon demanded from behind the girl.

“Paint!” Anne held up her red hands. “Totally worth it too.”

Frowning, Jane disappointingly shook her head. “That was uncalled for, Anne.”

“Whaddya mean?” Anne smirked, standing up and going to the kitchen sink to wash off the paint.

“You scared Kat half to death,” Anna accused, kneeling down next to her best friend.

Anne didn’t quite grasp why they were all so upset. To her it was just a prank, not a big deal. “You guys aren’t actually mad, are you?” Anne gestured about incredulously.

“Yes, Anne.” The beheaded queen could almost swear Cathy looked disgusted with her. “I would think you of all people would know not to go too far, especially with blood.”

There was a moment of silence before Anne realized what she had done. “Oh, KitKat, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to -”

“It’s fine Anne,” the girl mumbled, still staring at the floor.

Part of Anne wanted to continue and try to apologize to her cousin, but the unimpressed glares of all the other queens kept her from it. “Alright. I’ll um, I’ll be in my room.” Bolting away from the scene, Anne ran up to her room in the attic. Shutting the door, she flopped onto her bed. God, had she ruined another good thing? Would the others ever forgive her? Sure, they had forgiven her in the past, but what if she’d pushed it too far?

Unable to find the courage to reconcile with them, Anne stayed in her room for the rest of the night and the following day. She snuck down at midnight to eat some dinner (frozen cookie dough is fine, right?) before returning to her room silently. That’s the way it continued for the next few days, none of the queens willing to talk to Anne after her poorly planned prank.

It seemed to be working pretty well until Anne woke up with a serious pain in her stomach. There was a churning that made her feel absolutely terrible and nauseous. She knew period and gas cramps, but this was neither. She felt like irons were stabbing into her stomach at every movement. Laying in bed, Anne stared at the ceiling, trying to distract herself. But the pain was so overwhelming that there was no way to even fathom thinking of anything else.

Debating her options, Anne decided it was best to go and get help. Even if the other queens were mad at her, they had always been caring, sometimes overly so. Stumbling down the stairs, Anne had a hand on the railing and another clutching her stomach. “Anne?” Jane called, seeing the pale girl. Then her eyes fell upon the hand covering Anne’s stomach, and her expression dropped. “Really? Again so soon? Didn’t you learn your lesson last time.”

Aragon looked up from her newspaper and glared at Anne. “No, it’s for real this time,” Anne grunted.

“Sure, like it was real last time,” Aragon spit and turned back to her paper.

Shocked, Anne stopped on her way down the stairs. They didn’t believe her? Why wouldn’t they believe her? Couldn’t they see she was in pain? “What?” Anne groaned out.

Neither Jane nor Aragon were convinced, and they refused to pay Anne any attention. Feeling someone pass her on the stairs, Anne turned and made eye contact with Cathy. “Cathy, you’ll help me, right?”

Raising an eyebrow, Cathy glanced down at Anne’s hand cautiously. “And get what, fake vomit all over me? I think I’ll pass, Anne.”

Reaching a hand out, the beheaded queen tried to stop Cathy before she joined the other two queens downstairs. Apparently, Anne was out of luck, and she was ignored by her fellow queens. Grunting, Anne turned around and made her way back up the stairs. If they wouldn’t help her, she would help herself. Starting with some rest. Anne was feeling very, very tired.

So very tired, now that she thought about it. Barely making it to her room, Anne fumbled with the doorknob. She pushed her body weight against the door and collapsed on the ground. Slowly, everything around her started to fade to black as the world spun and spun and spun. The last thing she heard was her door clicking closed behind her.

Downstairs, Kat had just come out of the bathroom and was surprised to see the disgruntled faces of all the other queens. Anna was laying on the couch, mindlessly flipping through television channels, but Aragon, Jane, and Cathy kept sharing annoyed faces with each other. “What’s wrong?” Kat asked, making her way over to the kitchen table.

“Nothing to worry about, dear,” Jane covered up, pretending as if she had been smiling.

Unconvinced, Kat turned to Cathy. “What’s wrong?” she asked again.

“Anne came down asking for help while holding her stomach,” Cathy deadpanned.

Kat bit her lip and anxiously scuffed her foot on the ground. “We should check up on her.”

“And risk what happened last time?” Aragon scoffed. “No way.”

Anna called from over on the couch, “It’s not worth it liebling. She’ll realize sooner or later that her pranks aren’t funny.”

Still, Kat couldn’t help but worry that maybe, just maybe her cousin wasn’t lying this time. Even if she was constantly the target of Anne’s pranks, Kat knew it was because she was the easiest to trick. But her conscience wouldn’t let her rest until she knew Anne was safe, even if it meant getting pranked again. Kat ignored the calls of the other queens as she made her way up to Anne’s room.

Knocking on the door, Kat received no response. Of course she knew this was the start to every horror movie, and she was the ditzy cheerleader about to get murdered, but Kat pushed open Anne’s door anyway. Yelping when she almost tripped over something, Kat screamed for help when she saw what it was.

Unconscious on the floor was Anne, bloody vomit dribbling out of her mouth. Kat dropped down next to her, checking to see if Anne was breathing. A nagging in the back of her mind that sounded vaguely like the other queens told her it was an elaborate prank, but Kat’s own mind didn’t agree. Anne looked terribly pale and sick, her skin sweaty and her body shivering.

Anna burst through the door first, expecting to find more blood on Kat, but was instead surprised to see Anne actually sick. “I’ll call an ambulance,” Anna mumbled out, embarrassed that she had allowed Anne’s pain to be dismissed.

The last three queens came up together, standing at the door in guilty shock. “What did we do?” Jane asked quietly, her eyes wide as saucers. 

“Anne will be okay,” Aragon assured her, putting a hand on her back. She held out her other arm and pulled Cathy into her hug, the final queen unable to speak as she watched Kat huddle with her cousin. 

Rushing back into the room with a phone in her hand, Anna nodded at the others. “Ambulance is outside. They’re gonna take care of her.”

The ride to the hospital was grueling for Kat who had to watch her cousin fade in and out of consciousness. Anne seemed to have no coherent sense of what was happening, her fever running high and her mind delirious. As soon as they reached the hospital, Anne was carted off to some doctor while Kat met up with the other queens who had driven behind the ambulance. “Do you have any idea what’s wrong with her?” Jane asked as soon as Kat was within earshot.

Shrugging, Kat crossed her arms around her chest. “They said it was probably a stomach illness. Something she ate.”

The queens all shared knowing looks. “Of course if she’s left alone to eat, Anne’s going to choose something that’ll get her sick,” Aragon rolled her eyes, covering up the panic she felt when thinking about Anne’s safety.

In one big huddle, they sat together in the waiting area, hoping to get any news on Anne soon. It didn’t take long, and one of the white-jacket doctors came out. “Family of Anne Boleyn?”

“That’s us!” Cathy claimed, sticking her hand in the air.

The doctor frowned but made his way over to them. “You’re all related to her?” he asked in disbelief.

“I’m her cousin,” Kat explained.

“But we’re all her family,” Anna insisted.

The doctor shrugged but didn’t push any further. “Well she’s right down the hall if you want to visit her. One at a time,” he made sure they were clear. “She’ll be fine. Just a really bad cause of the stomach flu it seems. Miss Boleyn will be released within the next couple days.” Almost in unison, all the queens let out a sigh of relief. Anne was okay.

Anne was going to be okay.

Silently, it was agreed upon that Kat would be the one to visit Anne first. She followed the doctor to Anne’s room and thanked him when he left her alone with her cousin. “Hey Anne,” Kat greeted quietly from the doorway. “Can I come in?”

Anne was still a little bit woozy, but she nodded, wanting Kat with her. “Yeah, you can come in. Although I hear the chairs are really uncomfortable.”

Standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, Kat fiddled with her hands. “I’m sorry we didn’t believe you,” she blurted out. “You needed help and we didn’t help you.”

Chuckling humorlessly, Anne did her best to ease her cousin’s worries. “It’s fine. It’s my fault you didn’t believe me, and it’s my fault I got sick. Besides, you found me and called for help.”

Still unsure, Kat took a step closer to Anne’s bed. “I was so worried. I almost didn’t check on you because I thought it was another prank -”

“I don’t blame you,” Anne sighed. She patted her bed, urging Kat to sit with her. The younger girl complied, sitting at Anne’s feet. “I pulled a really insensitive prank, and I took it too far. Believe it or not, but I get it. If I were you, I wouldn’t take me seriously either. So don’t even think about blaming yourself for any of this.”

There was hesitation on Kat’s face, but she nodded. “If I don’t blame myself, then you have to promise me one thing.”

“Sure, Kat.”

“You can’t blame yourself either.” Kat grabbed Anne’s hand and pleaded with her. “It’s no one’s fault but that stupid virus.”

Laughing, Anne agreed. “Things must really suck for us then, huh KitKat?”

“Yeah, we do have a pretty bad history with luck.” The two cousins shared a grin. “But are you going to pull another prank like that?”

Mulling it over, Anne let out a noncommittal noise. “I can’t make promises for future Anne,” she offered cheekily.

“Fair, fair,” Kat put her hands up in surrender.

The two cousins shared a look and smiled softly, just glad they could be in each others’ company. “It’s no one’s fault,” Anne repeated, squeezing Kat’s hand. “And that goes for you too!” She shouted, peeking around Kat. “I know you’re listening.”

Shamefully, the other four queens revealed themselves in the doorway after their failed attempt at spying. “We’re glad you’re okay Anne,” Jane smiled, worry draining from her features.

“I’m glad I’m okay too.” And they all laughed together.

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

@annabanana2401

@boleynhowards

#six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fic #six fanfiction #six fanfic #sixfic #anon request #anne boleyn centric #katherine howard is pretty big too #beheaded cousins #the others are there too #tw: blood #but not that much #tw: vomit #tw: stomach sickness #anne goes too far #i am so sleep deprived it's not even funny #the bags under my eyes are the size of my eyes

[disappearinginq]

for the writers ask thing: (3) What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway) AND (6) What character do you have the most fun writing?

Hilariously, the first one is a Prodigal Son scene between the team (specifically JT) and I just wanted a...merger? scene between beginning season JT & Malcolm, where they just like to harass one another, to basically an embodiment of the Kink!Tomato explanation. I like that they’re not cozy with each other, but they go from purposefully hurtful banter to just off beat teasing, and I had a scene where that was spelled out. I wonder if I can find it...or possibly actually getting around to writing the fic that i wrote three lines of dialogue for when @rohanrider3 gave me a prompt for it.  As for most fun -ooo. Hmm. Snarky ones. And family relations. I think one of my favorite things to write was between Bellamy and Kane for Left Behind, despite not watching the show for years now, and that fic sits languishing in writing purgatory. 

And I really, really love to write unexpectedly smart/badass characters (or make canon characters into unexpectedly smart/badass characters, because no one can prove I’m wrong).  Edit: FOUND THE PRODIGAL SON THING. 

“No, JT, really, I want to know,” Malcolm snapped, holding his hand out – steadier than JT could remember ever seeing it – jabbing accusatorily at him. “What exactly was I supposed to do? Hmm? If you know, I’d love to hear it, because I haven’t got a fucking clue. I’m a bit of an outlier, you see – people aren’t good with things they can’t categorize. They want to stuff you in a box whether you fit or not, and I’m guessing as a Hispanic male combat veteran, there’s a couple boxes people like to tick off for you, right? Suicidal. PTSD. Temper problems. Into drugs and alcohol. Anyone ever tell you you’re a ticking time bomb, just waiting to go off?”

JT didn’t answer – it was rhetorical and both of them knew it. Veterans today had a rate of suicide comparable to WWII, and instead of trying to curb the trend by digging deeper to find out why, Washington just swept it under the rug – denied treatment, refused disability claims, shoved people out on the street like Monday morning garbage. The only time people cared enough to even Google the statistics were November 11th and the last Monday in May.

“Oh look,” Malcolm barreled on. “Finally, something we have in common. We don’t like it when people try to shove us in boxes to make us something we’re not. But you know what? You’re at least not alone. You can feel it, and it can seem it, but you’re not – one point three million people in our military, odds are at least one of them feels like you. Can understand what you’ve been through, why you are the way you are. Wanna know how many serial killers had kids? Huh?”

Malcolm’s pointed finger became a splay of five.

“Five. In the last half century, with their kids still alive today – five. Six kids total. Ted Bundy’s daughter has vanished so completely not even the FBI knows who or where she is. Dennis Rader’s kids? His daughter fucking wrote him a letter forgiving him for what he did and that she ‘hoped to see him in Heaven one day’ and that she still loved him, and her brother told the newspapers that despite killing ten people in utterly horrific ways, he was a good dad. And nobody comes close to the Surgeon’s body count – maybe the ones he was convicted for, but not what he’s suspected of.”

“Look, Bright, I – ” JT tried to cut in. Bright’s glare stopped him midsentence.

“No, no, no, no, you don’t get to derail this train now,” Malcolm snapped. “Not when you’re the one who keeps looking at me like I’m only one conviction away from being Martin Whitly’s sequel because I’m good at my job. And you know what, literally anyone else who is a profiler, or a criminal psychologist, or even a forensic psychologist is supposed to try and interpret the criminal mind, but I don’t see you avoiding Dr. Tanaka. My father was the monster, not me. I was fucking ten years old when I turned him in. All the other Serial Killer Kids were adults when the police found out their fathers were killers, but I don’t see the FBI keeping tabs on them, waiting for them to pick up where Dear Old Dad left off. So why me? Because I annoy you? Because it bothers you that because I can’t solve my own problems, I try to solve others? I have twenty three lives that were cut short because of the Surgeon that I have to make up for, and yeah, there’s only so many ways I can atone for my father’s sins.”

JT wasn’t the only one who noticed the change in Malcolm’s voice as he almost choked on the word father in relation to Martin, his already pale features turning slightly green at the mention of being related to the Surgeon.

“Since you seem to have all the answers, why don’t you clue the rest of us in? Hmm?” Malcolm threw his hands wide to encompass the whole room. “What should I be doing that would make you believe that I am not my father’s son?”

Dani shifted in her chair, looking like she’d rather be anywhere but here, but gave him a side-eyed glare that clearly stated she was actually on Bright’s side for this one. Gil hadn’t said a word the entire argument, but then, if he’d known Malcolm since the day he’d turned in Martin, then he’d probably heard it more than once.

Malcolm must’ve said it more than once, because that was a lot of statistics to rattle off that fast.

JT sighed, picking up a pen and tapping it against the notepad just to have something to do with his hands as he met Malcolm’s eyes.

“It’s not what you think,” JT said. “It…” he considered his next words, weighing the sound of them in his head before he said them aloud. “I think you’re so good at this, it’s killing you.”

Whatever response Malcolm had braced himself for – because that’s exactly what he was doing, keeping his hands firmly over his chest, hunching slightly like he was expecting a physical blow – that wasn’t it. The kid’s eyebrows almost shot into his hairline before they narrowed back in suspicion, and JT couldn’t really blame him.

“I knew these guys – combat guys, all of them. Saw some serious shit over in Syria. Afghanistan. Iraq. You name the shit storm, they were in it, boots on the ground. They didn’t fare much better than you. Nightmares. Depression. The twitchy hands. The mania. The insomnia. Insisting they were fine.” He absently let the pen in his hand doodle across the notepad, and he watched as Malcolm’s gaze couldn’t help but flicker towards the movement more than keep JT’s gaze. “Hyper vigilant. Some of them saw counselors, but you know how that goes…seeing them doesn’t mean they followed their advice. Sometimes it’s just a band aid on a bullet hole. A couple of them got jobs where they thought they could do some good – use those skills, those…habits, at work. Thought it gave them an edge. Kept them vigilant.”

JT clicked the pen, putting it down as he leaned forwards, his elbows on the table, interlocking his fingers as he caught Malcolm’s piercing gaze. “It burned them out. One put a gun in his mouth Christmas Eve in his basement while his kids were asleep upstairs. The other one stepped in front of train during the morning commute. The other one gave himself a heart attack – he’s the one that lived. And you may not believe me, Bright, but I don’t want that to be you on the evening news. You may be good at this job, but I think it’s bad for you. Trying to make up for things you had no control over, keeping some tally in that head of yours of if the life you saved is equal to the one he took. That’s not healthy, and if your stupid habit of haring off after murderers without backup doesn’t kill you, then this life will. I don’t think you’re anything like the Surgeon, because if you were, this wouldn’t bother you at all, instead of eating you alive from the inside out.”  

The room was quiet enough you could hear a pin drop.

Dani shot him her half smile reserved for special occasions and people she particularly approved of. Gil’s expression was still hidden by his hand over his mouth, but JT realized he wasn’t looking at him – probably hadn’t been for most of the conversation.

He was watching Malcolm.

Malcolm who was completely silent.

He didn’t think Bright did silent. He pretty much non-stop jabbered on, even when he wasn’t supposed to. Perhaps even especially when he wasn’t supposed to.

And now that piercing blue stare was levelled straight at him, and JT fought the urge to fidget under the intensity of it.

Malcolm’s eyes widened slightly, a funny little gasp that would’ve made more sense coming from someone who’d just had ice water dumped down their back passing between suddenly parted lips as he pulled his head back as if physically slapped. “You’re…not lying.”

JT frowned, glancing over at Gil who was still zeroed in on Malcolm. The older man hadn’t decided if this was good or bad, which put JT even more on edge.

“No, I’m not lying. Why would I lie about something like that?” He tried to catch Gil’s attention without getting even more of Malcolm’s, but the older detective ignored him.

#asks answered #games we play #prodigal son #prodigal son fic #sort of #one day maybe #malcolm bright #jt tarmel

[secretlittlerandezvous]

The PR Girl - Charlie Coyle

Summary: Charlie meets a mysterious yet beautiful and playful girl. He later finds out she’s a friend of the team staffs and meets her few more times before taking it further.

Note: I hope I somehow managed to cover the “worker’s friend” aspect. This is honestly my favorite thing I’ve written so far and writing it was so much fun. Thank you for requesting 🐻💛🌈💘

Words: 2070

“You are a mystery to me, yet so familiar. Like a song I’ve never heard before, and a tune I’ve known my entire life.”

Charlie didn’t mean to stare at her for so long and so often. Hell, he never looked at any girl so many times before. Sure, he met quite a lot of beautiful ladies but not a single one of them captured him the way she did. It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t take his eyes off her, she was enchanting. She looked sweet and soft, yet she would probably fight with the whole bar if she had to. Her skin was glowing, and her tanned skin looked heavenly in the lowlight of the bar. She was for sure the most beautiful woman he ever saw. He couldn’t get enough of her. Her dress went up every time she moved in the rhythm of the music or whenever she sat down and crossed her legs under the table. He enjoyed the view at her long toned legs. He smiled to himself when she threw her head behind laughing at something one of the men who kept her company said. 

His heart skipped a beat the first time she caught him looking at her, she looked him in the eyes and gave him a daring look. Charlie realized she must’ve felt his gaze on her body the whole evening. But it didn’t look like it bothered her, she enjoyed it. She knew she was attractive, and she liked to act cocky around men, out of pure boredom usually. She enjoyed how easily she could wrap any man around her finger, and she laughed at their naivety.

Charlie together with most of the players and some of the team staff were having a little party. Charlie knew for sure the mysterious girl wasn’t part of the team staff and he was almost sure he never saw her at the TD Garden before. He would’ve known if one of the boys brought her with them. She truly fascinated him.

When Chris joined Charlie at the table he got caught up in the conversation and forgot all about her and so when he finished his bottle of beer and turned around, he found himself disappointed when she wasn’t there. He cursed himself for not finding enough courage or rather audacity to go and talk to her, he wished he looked at her more often and he most importantly wished he knew who she was and who she came with. He didn’t mean to be creepy but if love at first sight existed then this was it. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with just adoring someone, right?

Half an hour passed, Charlie was alone, sitting on the bar chair, sipping lukewarm beer completely lost in his own thoughts, half asleep when he noticed someone sat down next to him. He could smell the perfume even though the scent of alcohol and smoke strongly lingered in the air. Much to his surprise, it was her. She didn’t look at him, she didn’t even acknowledge him. She just sat there with a shot of whiskey and smiled at the bartender who was skilled enough to randomly start a conversation - something that Charlie wished he could do too.

“I’m Y/n,” she put down the empty glass leaving a red lip stain on it and turned around at Charlie. “Charlie Coyle, right?” She smiled.

“Yeah, yeah that’s me.” He mumbled nervously and she chuckled sweetly at his shyness.

“So, you can talk after all hm? I almost lost all my hope that you would ever talk to me.” Charlie couldn’t tell if she was serious, joking, teasing or if she was being just rude and trying to embarrass him. “I think Chris exaggerates a lot.” She added after a while.

“I’m sorry? I don’t think I understand.” Charlie shook his head, nervously ran his fingers through his hair and took another sip of the disgusting warm beer just so he didn’t have to look at her.

“We were just joking around. He said you couldn’t stop looking at me and he swore you wouldn’t find the guts to talk to me.” She put her hand on his shoulder and smiled at him again to calm him down. She noticed how uncomfortable he looked and almost felt bad for acting the way she did. But really just almost. “Billy invited me. He said it would be fun but I lost him almost immediately. Then that group of men invited me to their table. And now I’m here.”

Billy. Billy? Billy from the PR team!

“I think he’s probably just talking with someone who could make the Bruins look even better in the public eye.” Charlie finally relaxed when the tone of her voice changed and she wasn’t acting as cocky anymore.

“Even better? Are you sure about that?” She raised her eyebrow at him and then took a sip of yet another shot of whiskey. “Ever heard what people think about the Bruins?” She laughed.

“It’s pretty much all on Marchand. The rest is quite nice.” Charlie and Y/n both turned around when they heard a loud “hey” and laughed when they saw Brad pretending to be hurt that Charlie was talking about him behind his back.

“Are you and Billy dating?” Charlie couldn’t believe this sentence really left his mouth and he felt embarrassed for a second for forgetting his manners.

“Dating? No, we’re just friends. Met in school a couple of years ago.”

“So, you’re in the public relations too?”

“Yeah, got my bachelor’s degree in public relations and surprisingly stuck with it.” She laughed at herself, shaking her head in disbelief. “I hardly ever stick with something... or someone.”

“You get bored really easily huh?”

“Bored, tired, fed up. I don’t even know anymore. I guess it’s just hard for me to find things or people who can keep me satisfied.”

“Was that a Grease reference? I swear if Brandon was there, he wouldn’t shut up about Grease.”

As the night progressed Charlie got so used to her personality that he could fully relax and talk to her without fear of messing it up or saying something inappropriate. She wasn’t of the sensitive type.

“Well, pretty boy, it was nice talking to you.” Charlie watched her long toned legs carry her away from him, she looked so effortlessly sexy and beautiful, the high heels she wore added to her charm. All she left behind was a napkin with her name written in cursive and a phone number on it.

It took Charlie ten days to text her. He debated whether it was not too late and that maybe not texting her at all was a better option. But after he talked to Chris who pretty much told him he would be an idiot if he didn’t, he changed his mind and quickly texted her. She replied five minutes later.

Pretty boy can write texts too? You keep surprising me ;)

Charlie tried to fight back the smile forming on his face, but he couldn’t help it. He enjoyed her snarky comments. They ended up texting for the rest of the day and then every day for five days straight. Charlie learned she worked in a big company, got a great position after her internship and she was currently dealing with shit tons of papers - her words, not his. She came from New York, lived alone in an apartment complex three blocks away from Charlie’s place. She had no pets although she wished she had a dog. She was 25.

Charlie and Y/n met a couple of days later when she just came from work and he was on a way home from Brandon’s where they played video games. They met at the newest grocery store and instead of continuing in shopping they ended up going to the nearest restaurant for dinner. She had a full face of makeup, her long hair was straightened, parted in the middle. High heels and red lipstick reminded him of the first time they met. Charlie noticed the men staring at her, adoring her beauty and felt quite jealous as if they were checking out his girl. Charlie, just as other men glanced at her as much as it was possible but unlike them, he was the one sitting in front of her.

She was playful around them, she enjoyed the attention she was receiving for a bit but got bored of it soon. She started acting completely different and focused on Charlie. She was sweet and kind and funny.

The third time they saw each other was at the TD Garden. Charlie saw her on his way to the locker room talking with Billy. She had a pile of papers in her hands and it seemed like they were going over something important. Charlie wasn’t sure if she saw him, but he decided not to say anything and disappeared in the locker room.

When he was on the ice, he spotted her in the lodge with Billy. Charlie just realized it was the first time he saw her in jeans and a Bruins hoodie, hair in a high ponytail but the red lipstick was still present on her lips. She smiled brightly when she noticed him and held out a sign.

THE NICEST GUY(s) IN THE LEAGUE.

There was a black and white picture of the whole team, Charlie’s face framed in a red heart and Brad had angel wings and a halo above his head. It was made to look a newspaper and it was the nicest sign Charlie saw - though he could be biased.

After the game, Charlie hoped he would see her somewhere around but found Billy instead, waiting for him to give him the newspaper sign.

“Charlie? Can I talk to you for a minute?” Billy asked and continued talking after Charlie nodded. “I know it’s none of my business, but I noticed that you and Y/n talk quite a lot lately,”

“Wouldn’t say quite a lot but yeah,”

“Look, I know her for a few years now and I know how she is around men and you know... she likes the attention but she’s a really great girl. It’s just an act you know? She never takes it too far.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed she likes the attention, but I never thought she sleeps around... not that it’s any of my business if she does.”

“I’m just trying to say that if you like her then don’t let it scare you,” Billy chuckled. “She usually calms down when she gets to know someone.”

The fourth time they met was when she spontaneously knocked on his apartment door with a bottle of wine for them to sip throughout the night. She wore black faux leather leggings, a simple white shirt, and a red sweatshirt. Her hair was in a low bun and she had no makeup on. She was just as beautiful as any other time he met her. They sat on the floor and talked while sipping the wine and they both felt unusually comfortable in each other’s presence. A rare connection between two people who hardly knew each other but could talk about anything with ease. It felt like they knew each other before.

“I see you kept my newspaper,” she smiled as she glanced at the sign she made for him. “I did a pretty good job, didn’t I?”

“You sure did,” Charlie smiled at her and adored her face before she turbed around to face him again. “Where did you go after the game?” He had this question on his mind for a while and couldn’t wait to get an answer.

“My sister broke up with her asshole boyfriend and wanted to meet,” she shook her head. “She drove from New York to Boston and stayed for a couple of days.”

“Go on a date with me,” Charlie blurted out and completely ignored the topic of their conversation. Maybe it was the alcohol that gave him the courage to ask for what was on his mind, maybe it was because he really wanted this a lot or maybe it was the power of the moment between them. “Please.”

“Okay.” She whispered, got closer to him and kissed him softly.

“I gotta say a thank you to Billy for bringing you to that party,” Charlie laughed and kissed her again.

#charlie coyle #charlie coyle imagine #charlie coyle one shot #charlie coyle writing #charlie coyle imagines #boston bruins #boston bruins imagines #boston bruins one shots #boston bruins writing #boston bruins imagine #nhl players imagines #nhl writing #nhl imagine #nhl one shot #hockey writing #hockey imagines #hockey one shot #hockey imagine #🐻💛

[starswordartblog]

Two hours late but given how college is going I’m surprised I wrote it at all. For @oc-growth-and-development​‘s OCtober prompts, day 30: Flight.

This was not meant as a sequel to day 13 and happens years after day 13′s piece, but it kinda works as a sequel to that.

"U.F.O.?" Moira asked, looking at the newspaper Uni had come to show her.

"Yeah, isn't it funny?" he said, "They say here it stands for 'Unidentified Flying Object', because that city has this big observatory to take pictures of the sky, and they got a pic of me and Nathan flying over!"

Moira looked down at the picture he pointed on the page. It was nothing but a blur of red and blue across the sky. Moira didn't know how Picture Magic worked, but she knew how fast Uni had become from training his magic for years. It wasn't surprising that the image didn't get them well, but why even report such a thing then?

"I guess that city doesn't see mages very often," she mused.

"Yeah, there were a lot of weirdos there too," Nathan joined in the conversation, "we stopped by and a bunch were running to the woods to chase the mystery or something. Uni was floating right there! I tried to explain it was him!"

"Well, I was out of power so I couldn't prove I can be that fast," Uni said, lightly tapping his brother's shoulder to calm him down. Because Uni had barely grown since childhood, he had to float a bit higher to do that. "I don't get why they were convinced it had to be a big ship though. How would a ship fly in the sky?"

Moira raised an eyebrow at him. "You are a fish and fly in the sky, don't you?"

"Exactly, and that's just me!" He made a pretentious pose in the air with a hand on his puffed out chest. "I'm a Unique Fish Object."

Her eyebrow twitched. "You're okay being an object then?"

"I'll allow it," he waved his other hand, nose still upwards in the goofiest image of pride. Then he broke the pose to float closer to her with an excited smile. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about! You name your spells, right?"

"Oh? Yeah, everyone does it, right?" Her sister had encouraged her to do it to make it easier to learn and remember them, and also to keep her knowledge organized. But never the studious one, Moira cared most about finding fun or pretty names.

"Yeah, but a lot of people pick names from their tutor, or family, or whoever they studied it from. Nathan got most of his from his dad, but they don't really work for me."

"Hey, I already said they do," Nathan interrupted, "Ultimate Fire Magic has a U and a F, we just gotta find an O to put on it!"

"Yeah, but a lot of your spells have 'Elemental' or something like that on them, I can't do that, mine can't have an E!"

"Fine," Nathan crossed his arms. "You think Olemental is a name?"

"You can't just shove O's into any word..." Uni frowned.

"Of course I can, we need them, don't we?"

"See, that's why I knew we would need Moira's help."

"Wait, wait, waiiiiit," Moira finally jumped in the conversation again, shaking her arms to get the boys' attention. "I, I got totally lost on this! I can help you think names for your spells, but why do you need O's and E's and all this letter stuff? I didn't get it."

"The U.F.O. thing," Nathan explained. "We thought it was funny so we want all his spells to have these letters too. It's gonna be like, U.F.O Magic."

"It can be Unique Fish Object, Ultimate Flying Object, and a bunch of other things!" Uni added, "Isn't it nice to have a name that means a lot?"

"In all of those you're still an object," Moira sighed, but with a smile. "But you're right, it's a great name for you. It's gonna be hard to find words for all spells though, shouldn't you guys ask someone smarter?"

"No way, it has to be you!" said Nathan, holding her tight by the shoulders, "You're our best friend, and you're smart, you taught Uni to talk more than me, right?"

"I..." She couldn't help but blush at his sudden touch and how intensely he stared her right in the eye. Normally that's where she would tease him about being "totally into her", but she was the one flustered this time so it wouldn't be fair to make fun of him for that, right? "A, alright, I'll do my best then!"

"That's the spirit!" he grinned and squeezed her harder before letting go. It hurt in the way a bone breaking hug does.

"Uh, by the way, how many spells do you even have, Uni?" Moira asked as they sat in the park, after borrowing the biggest dictionary Nathan could find in the library. "You usually just fly, or make Nathan fly."

"Oh, there's a new one but we should save it for the end," he said, and Nathan's face lightened up immediately, but he didn't say anything. "Everyone also says swimming is a different thing, but to me they're the same."

"Yeah, I think that's just how your magic is," Nathan added, "that's the fun of the Flying-Fish F. But it isn't a spell I think, you don't cast anything on yourself. It's like how my magic makes me immune to fire without me having to do anything. It just counts as a spell if you decide to manipulate your magical power in some way." He lit his hand on fire. "Like this, or this," he continued on, lightning a tiny fireball and then other and others and making them dance around in the air.

"You always know a lot about this," Moira praised. "So Uni flies naturally and breathes in water naturally... well, he's part fish, maybe it would be weirder if he didn't. I guess I never thought about it because I don't have anything like that."

"Is that so? Usually there's always something, that's why it's dangerous for a mage to lose their magic," Nathan said. "Never mind that, though! Uni still has spells," he hastily changed subjects as he always did after talking about dangerous things, "giving other people flight is a spell for you, right?"

Uni nodded, "Yeah, that takes way more effort than flying, and I can't do it if the person doesn't want to," he started pointing at random strangers, and Moira could feel a weak flow of magic from him, "it's a pain, I really wanted to prank people."

Nathan ruffled his hair. "Don't worry man, I'm sure one day we'll do it."

"No, please don't," Moira said, "the townspeople here are used to magic but that doesn't mean they'll be okay with getting hit by one. Let's save that for our fellow mages I guess, that would be funny."

"That's exactly what Nathan wanted, yeah," Uni said, and his brother's grin did confirm it.

"Okay, we'll be here all day if we keep getting distracted,” she said. “We need to name your spell. The F part is easy, you have ideas for the rest?"

They stood in silence for a moment. Uni then flicked a finger in Nathan's direction and he began to fly around.

"Got something?" Uni asked him.

"Not yet, but I knew you were gonna do that before you did. Your magic really connects people, huh."

"Connect has a C, Nathan, we can't have that."

"I'm trying okay, there has to be a similar word! Connection, link, bond... Union! There, see, I found one!"

"Oh, you really did it!" Uni celebrated throwing his arms up in the air. Union Flying Object... that still doesn't make sense though."

"The, the spells are objects too...?" Moira questioned. "But, United by Flight sounds nice, doesn't it? We'd just need an O now."

"Oh, nice one, Moira!" Nathan said. "Couldn't we do something with 'over'? Since we go over stuff when flying. And there's a bunch of words that start with over, overflow, overwhelm, over..."

"Overdid it, it's what you say when I make you go too fast."

"Yeah, let's not talk abou- AAAAAAAAaaaaaaa...!" with a flick of Uni's fingers he was sent upwards at great speed.

"You're so mean," Moira said, but she was smiling.

"Oh, he'll live." Uni shrugged. "My magic lets me raise speed the more someone trusts me. Only Nathan can go that fast, so he's okay with it. He'll just have to get back at me later."

"Ah, brothers..." She wouldn't say it out loud, but she did relate to wanting to have some fun with your overpowered, prideful older sibling.

The overpowered, prideful older sibling landed back hot with fury, a phrase more literal than usual with Nathan. "I'll kill you," he growled.

"None of those start with O's, Nathan, let's stay focused," Moira joked, hoping they wouldn't indeed waste too much time fighting. And Nathan did calm down, if the air temperature going back to normal was any indication.

"Alright. United in Flight Operation, how about that? Operation is like acting out a plan, right? We make a lot of plans when we work together."

"Oh. That doesn't sound bad, actually," Uni said.

"It's kinda tough sounding, I guess it suits you two when you get serious," Moira added. "Also I really don't have any ideas."

"I guess the air up there really cleared your head, should I do it again?" Uni grinned, raising a finger at Nathan's direction.

"Shut up, I'll fry you for dinner, you jerk!"

"Boys!" Moira warned, putting up a finger in each of their faces. "Focus! Otherwise none of us will even be home for dinner!"

"Alright, alright!" Nathan backed down. "So, I was thinking the U could be for Underwater when you let me breathe underwater instead, but United in Fish Operation works just fine, right? Like, I bet fishes do all their plans underwater."

"Yeah, that makes sense to me," Uni nodded.

"What do fish even plan about?"

"We don't have time to think about that, Moira, we have to focus," Nathan warned, face hidden in the dictionary.

"Oh." she said, staring at him, hands in her hips wondering if he'd get the sarcasm. He slowly turned back to her, meeting her serious gaze head on for a few seconds before breaking in laughter.

"You deserved it, you're always complaining," he pointed at her. "Also, we have only one spell left to name and we haven't shown it to you yet."

"Really? That didn't take so long then," she commented, pretending to not see Nathan's smug smile at that. "Let me see then! I'm curious that you learned something new." Uni's magic was very straightforward. He could always fly, and had learned the extra spell they just named more than three years ago. Since then he had only improved on control and speed. What could have happened for him to work on something new all of a sudden?

"Alright, let's do it then!" Nathan jumped in excitement, and reached a hand to Uni. "You sure you can do it?"

"Yeah, I got enough magic left, and we're syncing just fine I think," Uni answered, grabbing his brother's hand.

As he did, he began to... fade? Moira wasn't sure of what she was seeing, he seemed to be getting transparent enough that she could see through him, but there was also a circular pattern shimmering within him, like bubbles wavering and shining slowly. He then went through Nathan, and the pattern spread through the other kid, the bubbles getting faster and more numerous until they obscured the boys' forms completely

When the effect ended Uni was gone, but the person floating there wasn't quite just Nathan. Of course, the first thing off she noticed was Uni's green horn in his forehead. His hair was long as Uni's too, and a mix of their colors, blond like Nathan up to the size of his short cut and then blue in the lower part. The eyes were also a mix, one green and one blue. His skin was full of brown spots, and his feet had been replaced by bright blue fins. Moira could also feel the spell coursing through his whole body.

"It's... No way, that’s, both of you?" she gasped.

"Yeah, awesome, right?" They said, two voices in unison. They grinned, circling around her. "Like I said, Uni's magic connects him with other people, the more we flew together, the more we could feel each other's thoughts, kind of. It made it easier to coordinate together, since Uni has to control the speed even when Nathan is the one flying. Last time we just synced so much that this happened somehow!" They finished, spreading their arms wide and summoning a lot of flames to circle around them. Looking closely, Moira noticed their were slightly fish-shaped. "Ultimate Fire-Fish Onslaught! Oh, that's good! Onslaught really is a Nathan word!"

They kept grinning but their eyes twitched for a moment and with a loud popping noise the fused shape burst and faded, the original boys falling to the ground where it stood. Nathan jolted up, pointing to his brother with an angry face.

"I heard that thought!"

Uni quickly got up too, scowling at Nathan with his hands balled into fists. "And I was right! You really are too hotheaded to keep up with out of battle!"

"You liked the name! I felt that you liked the name, you couldn't stay five seconds without making fun of it?"

"We joke about everything, you make fun of everyone else too! You want me to just sing praises inside your brain? Geez, that's another level of self-obsession, your ego is so high I bet even I can't reach it!"

"Fine, see if I ever use this dumb spell with you ever again!"

"Like I care, you're the one always asking for support."

They turned away from each other, suddenly quiet enough to hear Moira's snickering.

"Oh goodness, boys, wait, wait," she walked up to them, "it was funny but you're actually mad at each other. C'mon, it was a great day, guys, let's not end like this."

"It wasn't me," they protested in unison, sounding a lot like when fused.

"See? Still in sync," she giggled, then pulled both of them by the hand until she could pass an arm behind each of their necks in a wide hug. "You are literally such perfect partners you made a whole new spell that way. Of course you don't think the same way all the time, that's why you complete each other. Maybe it’s not a spell to use all the time. And Uni is right, you two are always joking around so you have to know how to make up when you go too far."

"It's worse when it's in your brain," Nathan mumbled, "I spent the last two days working on this name stuff."

Moira felt Uni shake at that, and then once more as he sniffled. "Sorry. I liked it. I was having fun."

"Yeah it was fun," Nathan said, reaching a hand out to pull the smaller kid closer, "sorry I blew up on you."

Moira let go of them, and Uni wiped a few tears, Nathan's arm still over him, though the older kid still averted his eyes.

"Anyway, you're happy with the names, right?" he asked loudly once Uni stopped sniffling. "I'm definitely never coming up with this stuff again, we should write them down somewhere."

"It's okay, I'm not gonna forget them," Uni said, but Nathan had already left him and was marching towards the bench he left the dictionary in.

"Nope, no way, I'm not risking, we're writing it down right now!" he said, opening the book and lighting up a spark on his finger. Moira rushed and grabbed him.

"What are you doing that's a library book!" She shook him until he dropped it. Hopefully that hard cover was enough protection. "Geez, be careful with people's stuff. I'll just lend you a page from my grimoire, but no fire, what were you even planning with that?"

"Wait, seriously? But that's like, your most precious thing or something!"

"You guys are too," she said, carefully taking out a blank page of the mentioned book, "and these are some great memories to record. I do want something in return, though."

"Alright, I'll do anything!" he replied immediately. It stunned her a bit, was he that grateful? He took the page from her with unusual gentleness, she didn't realize he cared about her grimoire so much. Or, more likely, cared about how important it was to her.

"Anything, huh?" she leaned forward, eyeing him like a playful cat, a finger under his chin. Normally this was where she'd tease him about kissing her or something, but the whole day had been a lesson on joking too much with people's feelings. Nathan was an awkward mess of a teen and she loved him exactly like that. The kind of love was up for debate, which is why she waited for him to make a move or not, so maybe it wasn't fair to joke around when she was actually counting on him.

The moment really wasn't about her disastrous love sense, she should get back on track.

She straightened her posture again and held her finger up in a lecturing way. "It's been way too long since we had a fun adventure together. You guys work too much, and train too much too. Let's go on a flight this weekend, just explore stuff and have fun! I have a flying spell too after all!"

"Yay!" Uni flung himself into a hug with her. "It's really been so long since we flew together, we used to train all the time!"

"Yeah, you did, that's how you learned to fly really well," Nathan added, looking away, "and I, I kinda used to be jealous of you two." He turned to stare his brother down with a warm smile. "Good thing you're strong enough to carry me around this time, huh?"

"Yup!" And as usual, they had identical smiles.

#oc tober #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing #fantasy #unidentified fish object #moira owen #uni truefire #nathan truefire #2020 #i had no idea where i was going with this it's so messy but the characters are awesome #between me and them there is like. half a braincell #but our feelings? vast #i need sleep

[purplesurveys]

994

Basic Information

What's your name? Name’s already posted on my Tumblr but so that nobody has to check that anymore, Robyn.

Where do you live? I live in some city east of Manila, and that’s all you need to know.

When's your birthday? April 21st.

What's your astrological sign? Taurus.

Do you actually believe in that stuff? Never did.

How old are you? 22.

Do you have a high school diploma or the equivalent? Yeah I got a diploma.

Do you have an undergraduate degree? If so, in what? Yup. I’ve graduated but I haven’t received the diploma nor did I get to walk on a stage because of the stupid virus, but I majored in journalism.

What is your favorite...

Quote? I don’t have any. My brain doesn’t really store quotes for me to go back to; I don’t find the majority of them interesting.

Color? My main favorite is pink, but I enjoy looking at pastel shades and muted colors in general too.

Song? Picking an all-time favorite song is impossible, but for now I really like putting Hayley Williams’ Why We Ever on repeat. It used to be just a sad song that I love listening to but unfortunately the lyrics have since become relatable, so now there’s a sting whenever I hear it.

Band/singer? My favorite bands are Paramore and Against Me! while my favorite solo act is Beyoncé.

Book? I never had one. I was a big bookworm as a kid, but I didn’t get to keep it up as a teenager and now as an adult. Most of the books I own today are still just the novels I had nearly a decade ago, and it’s been a struggle trying to find a genre to get into.

Author? Same situation as book.

School subject? History. A lot of the social sciences are also great – anthropology, pol sci, psychology, etc. In another universe I definitely would’ve taken up a degree in a social science instead of journalism.

Science (chemistry, biology, physics, etc.)? Biology has always been a strength of mine and a favorite. I find memorizing terms fun, and I’ve always enjoyed studying living things instead of chemicals or energy or force or any of that boring stuff. 

Math (algebra, geometry, calculus, etc.)? Advanced algebra is fun. So is geometry, but only as long as you know all the formulas and theories; otherwise it’s so easy to fail it.

Language? I don’t have one. I think all languages are individually beautiful.

Operating system? Wow this is random lol. macOS, I guess. It’s what I’m using.

Instrument? I like the sound of many instruments, but in the grand scheme of things the piano has to be my absolute favorite.

Letter? I don’t pick a favorite letter.

Number? 4.

Car? I don’t know the first thing about cars but I suppose my dream car is a Mini Countryman, if that counts as a favorite. I swoon every time I see one in real life; they’re just so pretty to look at.

Pattern (polka spots, stripes, plaid, etc.)? Stripes are my cup of tea, but polka dots are also cute.

Word? The word that’s been my favorite for a while is ‘poignant.’

Animal? I love animals, but I’m biased to dogs and elephants. :)

Country? I don’t have a favorite country. That’s a pretty odd favorite but *shrug* I guess some people have theirs.

Drink (alcoholic or otherwise)? Water, milkshakes, and cocktails.

Food? Sushi, curry, cheeseburgers, and macarons. You can’t make me go with just one choice when it comes to food, my dude.

Restaurant? Yabu and Torch.

Website? I rely a lot on YouTube for my sanity these days so it’d be fair to call that my favorite, at least for the meantime.

Sport? If it counts, pro wrestling. If it doesn’t, I like playing table tennis and watching volleyball and tennis.

Flower? Peonies, roses, and sunflowers.

Ice cream flavor? Cookies and cream is a classic.

Television show? Breaking Bad is my favorite ever, but I also enjoy Friends, The Crown, and Bojack Horseman, and at one point The Walking Dead before it got honestly boring.

Shirt? I don’t really have a favorite shirt, but my favorite type to wear is anything sleeveless. I like giving my skin air to breathe, lol.

Shape? I don’t pick favorite shapes.

Eye color? Olive is beautiful.

Hair color? I’m indifferent to hair colors. Whatever suits a person.

Movie? Two for the Road and Good Will Hunting.

Gum flavor? Fruity ones.

Random Stuff About You

Do you have your drivers' license? Yeah. I had to get it as soon as I graduated high school because no one else was going to be able to bring me to school in college. I was in driving school like a week or two after marching on stage for my high school diploma haha.

Have you ever been swimming in an ocean? I don’t know if I have. In the vacations I’ve had, I don’t really keep track if I’m swimming in a sea or if I’m already in one of the oceans.

What's the last song you listened to? No clue but it was probably something by Hayley.

Do you prefer coloring pencils, crayons, or markers? Coloring pencils! I miss coloring. I just can’t see myself going back to it at the moment because I had bought a really cheap set of coloring pencils that have to be sharpened every five minutes. During my coloring phase I’m pretty sure I spent more time sharpening my pencils than actually filling in my coloring books. I’ve yet to find a replacement set with better quality.

Can you make any origami figures? If so, what? I’m terrible at origami and have always been. Even if I’m given a one-on-one session, I’ll for sure get lost early on in the process.

Do you still sleep with a stuffed animal? I never did. I always preferred pillows.

Do you get cold easily? I do haha, but I don’t mind it. I’d rather shiver or have my teeth chatter than have a pool of sweat on the back of my shirt from being too hot.

Have you ever been to a chiropractor? Nope.

Do you have great eyesight, or do you wear glasses or contacts? It’s very poor. I’ve had glasses since I was 11, but I needed them a lot earlier, like since I was 8 or 9 maybe. My mom refused to believe me when I started telling her my vision was getting worse because she legitimately thought I just wanted glasses to look like other kids. God, how shitty was that parenting? I can’t believe I just fucking let that go as a kid. My eyesight was getting increasingly blurry by the day and I stopped learning at school and her worry was that I wanted to fit in. I’m gonna get more stressed and hurt if I continue to think about this, so let’s just move on...

Do you know how to play chess? Never learned. I’ve watched my cousin play and he tried to teach me so many times, but I just never understood.

Do you know how to play checkers? At one point I think I did, but I didn’t enjoy it.

Do you like Sudoku puzzles? No. I never got the hang of that game either.

Do you like word searches? Love them.

Do you like crossword puzzles? They’re fine but the ones on our newspapers are too hard and use too many references or plays on words that I’m not able to pick up.

Do you like logic puzzles? It’s a hit or miss.

Can you play any card games? Other than solitaire, no.

Do you play board games? Hmm I played some as a kid, but I’ve always been too competitive and I’m never able to just sit down and have a friendly game so I’m not too big on board games now. I’m a lot happier sitting on the sidelines and watching my friends play because it’s more entertaining that way.

Do you do jigsaw puzzles? Not normally but I’ve been thinking of investing in one of those 1000-piece puzzles to take my mind off of things whenever I get depressed or when my mind starts to think about things it shouldn’t.

Do you listen to the same song on repeat for a long time, even occasionally? Yes. Sometimes I do it on purpose when I’m REALLY feeling a certain song at the moment; other times I don’t even realize the repeat button is turned on and I don’t notice I’ve been listening to the same song over and over.

Do you take any prescription medications on a regular basis? Nope.

Would you prefer to be too hot or too cold? I’ve said this a few questions ago, but too cold.

Do you like to swim? Sure. Being in the water calms me down instantly.

Have you ever been to a farm? I’ve probably been. I just can’t pinpoint a certain memory right now.

Do you like instrumental music? Depends on what the genre is, but I do generally prefer instrumental music when I’m working or have to focus.

Do you drink diet soda? Nope.

Do you drink soda? Andddddd nope.

Have you ever put Mentos into soda? I haven’t but I know what it does. There’s already like a million videos of other people doing it so I don’t need to do it for myself. 

Have you ever combined baking soda and vinegar? No.

Did you ever make Oobleck in science class when you were a kid? We never did and I learned about oobleck from watching a Good Mythical Morning episode, not in school. But I’ve always been curious as to what the texture is because it looks so fun to touch hahaha. I’d try making it myself but idk if we ever have cornstarch at home.

Do you know any HTML? Yes. Early days of Tumblr, man. People customized their themes and text posts all the time.

Have you ever read any of Shakespeare's work? Well, yeah. I had to read four of them - one for each year in high school.

Do you write poetry? No.

Do you read? Occasionally. A lot less than I used to.

Can you throw a frisbee? Sure. My friends and I played back in high school.

Do you watch a lot of television? Eh, not really. It’s rare that I discover a TV series I’m willing to invest in; I’ve always preferred movies since they can tell me a story within 2-3 hours. Following an ongoing show is just exhausting.

Do you think that you have a good sense of humor? Humor is subjective. I could mesh well with certain people but others might not find my sense of humor funny. I don’t think either of those can determine if my sense of humor is good or not.

Are you a mean person? Well, I try not to be...I think that’s what most people strive to do.

Do you have any bruises? If so, how did you get them? I have one on my knee because a few days ago I knelt to the floor to try to look for something under my bed, and I ended up landing on the floor quite hard and it was purple in minutes lmao. It’s mostly healed now though and I can barely tell where it is.

Does the thought of public speaking make you nervous? It only does if I ultimately also have to pitch something, because I don’t consider myself persuasive at all. But if I had had something memorized or had enough practice or if it’s a topic I’m fairly knowledgable about then I don’t have much of a problem with it.

Are you afraid of heights? It doesn’t bother me as much as other things and I’ve always wanted to go to the top floor of those towers where the floor is glass lol, but like I’d absolutely piss my pants if I found myself standing on a tightrope between two really tall buildings.

So, what ARE you afraid of? Flying cockroaches, plane crashes, and fire.

Are you listening to music? No.

Has anyone ever called you 'disturbed'? I don’t think so, at least not to my face.

Have you ever been kicked out of a place? If so, where? And why? Yeah. From a McDonald’s, but it was my noisy friends’ fault. I knew they were being loud (they were playing some card game) so I just stayed at the very edge of our table, pretended not to be associated with them and waited for a customer to complain about us lol. Normally I’d speak up and tell friends if they’re being too immature, but in that friend group in particular I was the shyest and didn’t really hold a lot of influence so I didn’t have much of a choice.

Do you take a lot of these surveys? Yeah I have this entire blog dedicated to just them, and even before this account I had another survey blog.

When was the last time you fingerpainted? No idea. Kindergarten maybe? If we even ever did?

When was the last time you sent an e-mail? Yesterday afternoon.

A text message? 1 AM earlier.

Called someone on the phone? I think it was around two weeks ago.

Tripped over something? I’m sure I tripped over Kimi fairly recently, like sometime this week.

Do you like chocolate? Sure but on its own it can be too sweet for me, like the Hershey’s milk chocolate bar. I do love chocolate-flavored stuff or if it’s incorporated into other meals or snacks, like chocolate chip cookies.

How many pillows are on your bed? Right now there aren’t any because I brought the two pillows, that I do normally have on my bed, to my desk where I’m currently sitting at.

Do you have any pets? Yeah one of them is licking their balls behind me. The other one is probably playing with their toys downstairs and miraculously being quiet this morning.

Have you ever been on a horse? Yep.

Have you ever climbed a tree? I don’t think so. Most trees here have fire ants anyway.

Do you like art? Sure do.

Do you use any sort of social networking site? I mean normally yeah, but I’ve deactivated all my accounts for the meantime. Depression is a bitch. I’m no longer updated on the news nor am I familiar with the trendy memes anymore but idk, this seems to be the healthiest thing for me right now.

What time is it? 9:11 AM.

Have you ever been in a car accident? Super minor ones where the car I was in only got a paint scratch or, at worst, a dent or two.

When was the last time you felt embarrassed? Yesterday when I almost sent a message talking about a certain person to that certain person. It was nothing mean, but I was horrified nonetheless.

Did it rain today? No. I’m not sure if it will but I hope it does.

Have you ever had a poison ivy rash? No. When was the last time you felt immensely happy? LOL Do you take a multivitamin or any other supplement? We have vitamin C tablets at home but I’m so bad at taking them. What household chore do you absolutely hate? Washing rags. Not really a chore, but once they get all dirty and I have to clean them up it just feels so icky and ueughdhffgbduifhsuf Tell me something random about yourself. I’ve won a couple of spicy noodle speed eating challenges. Can you cook? No, but I’d love to learn. Do you like to be silly? I’m a little more serious than silly for the most part...but when I’m in the right mood at the right time with the right crowd, I can be silly too. What kinds of things have you wanted to be 'when you grow up'? The first was astronaut. Then I came across this interview with a veterinarian and I wanted to be one too. Lastly, a firefigher. Have you ever been on a boat? Yeah, lots of times. Sometimes it’s the only way to get to certain provinces or cities in the country so we’ve had to take boats for a few trips. Do/did you like school? For the most part, yes. I like that I made a lot of friends in school and I don’t have complaints about learning. What I hated the most about school is the scheduling, I guess. In my first school I had to wake up at 5 AM everyday to catch the school bus; and then in college I had to take several 7 AM classes and those were just the biggest, most inconvenient bitches. I also did not enjoy the concept of Catholic school. Do you have a camera? I used to have a DSLR but I’ve since handed it down to my sister since she’s taking up film. The camera on my phone works just fine. Have you ever been bitten by a tick? I don’t think so.

Have you ever seen a wild snake? I don’t really know what counts as a ‘wild’ snake but I’ve handled and held snakes before. Have you ever gone hiking in the woods? Hmm I’ve gone hiking, but not in the woods. Do you have a lot of friends? There’s a lot of people I can call friends, yes. We aren’t constantly in touch, though. All my friendships are super low-maintenance which I appreciate. Do you keep a diary/journal/blog? I have a journal and this blog where I write my thoughts and emotions down. What color are your eyes? Dark brown. Answering this yet again this week... Do you like snow? I’ve never experienced it so I can’t say. I think I would enjoy snow though. I feel that I’d be able to find comfort in it, like rain. Would you prefer to sing or dance in front of other people? Both sound awful. But I’d go with sing because at least I don’t have to move my body as much. Would you prefer to sing or dance when you're by yourself? Sing.

Can you spell really well? I’d say I can. I was really inspired by the movie Akeelah and the Bee as a kid and that made me want to be constantly good at spelling. Do you mind poor grammar? If it’s coming from a native speaker of whatever language, yeah. Like people who can only speak English but still use ‘would of’ or ‘I could care less.’ I’m more forgiving towards people who speak one language, or those who are speaking in a language they know they aren’t 100% fluent in. What's your favorite texting/IM abbreviation? I don’t have one. ‘lol’ I guess? It’s convenient. Do you wear a watch? No. Do you shop at thrift stores? Sometimes, if I find their offers interesting enough for me to want to go inside. What is your dream job? It’s pretty straightforward but it’d be nice to be able to work my way up and end up as an executive at a PR or media agency that I look up to. What is one thing that really freaks you out? Charlie Kaufman movies. Do you like bananas? They’re okay. I don’t hate bananas as aggressively as I do other fruits. Do you eat meat? Yes. Do you drink coffee? Yuh. I can go for a cup right now, actually...maybe when I finish this survey. Do you clean your computer screen often? Not often. Just every once in a while or once I start seeing too many smudges. Have you ever sneezed onto your computer screen? Probably.

Let's talk about numbers.

How many people live with you?

Four. We also have two animals.

136+95=...?

231. That’s essentially 136 + 100 - 5.

How many digits of pi do you have memorized?

Just the first five.

Can you count using binary numbers?

No. Never understood those, not interested enough to start learning.

How many states have you visited?

Zero.

How many countries?

Six. Would’ve been seven or even eight if Covid never blew up. I know my dad mentioned there were plans for us to go to Vietnam this year, and I also asked for a Thailand trip as a graduation present. Damn bat soup or whatever it was.

How many browser windows/tabs do you have open?

I have three Chrome windows in total. On the one I’m on, there are 13 tabs.

How many times have you blinked in the past minute?

I dunno, I never count that?

How many seconds are in a minute?

60.

Are you afraid of mathematics?

Calculus and trig, yeah. The other ones aren’t so bad.

What's the square root of 121? 11.

Sorry, sorry, the nightmare is over :) How about some more random questions to let you relax?

Have you ever read the webcomic xkcd?

I doubt it. I don’t think I’ve heard of it before.

Can you play an instrument?

Barely.

Can you read sheet music?

Not a chance.

What's your favorite kind of sandwich?

Monte Cristo! Omg, that sounds so good right now :( Banh mi is great too.

Do you have a bedtime?

Not strictly but I always try to get 7-8 hours of sleep on weeknights so that I’m sufficiently energized for work the next day.

Have you ever gone sledding?

No, I haven’t.

Have you ever carved a pumpkin? If so, what kind of face did you make?

Also no.

Do you ever make funny faces at yourself in the mirror?

I guess it’s happened before, but it’s not a regular occurrence.

Have you ever played the classic shaving-cream-in-the-hand prank on someone?

No.

Do you think that's a mean thing to do?

I don’t think that prank in particular is since shaving cream is harmless, but some pranks can definitely go too far which is why I’m generally not a fan of them.

Do you like cake?

Only very certain types. I can think of more cakes that I don’t like than the ones I can never get tired of.

Do you like pie?

Just savory ones, like chicken pot pie. Those are more up my alley than sweet pies, which are for the most part stuffed with a kind of fruit.

Do you like popsicles?

Sure, they’re refreshing.

Do you use the television or computer more?

Laptop.

Do you have a favorite chair to sit in?

Not really lolAre you getting tired of this survey?

It’s lengthy but I knew about it when I started this so I can’t complain about that; and the questions haven’t been annoying too so no, I wouldn’t say I’m tired of it.

Do you like to wear hats? When I have the chance to, yeah. They’re never a must for me though.

Do you wear your seatbelt in the car?

Most of the time no. Oops.

Do your shoes provide lots of arch support?

I...don’t know. I don’t really pay attention.

Do you like to go to yard sales? I haven’t gone to one since I was a kid.

Have you ever had a yard sale at your house? I don’t think we ever did.

Do you like apples? I like some apple-flavored things like juice or candy. I can’t stand the actual fruit but y’all know that by now, haha.

Do you like peanut butter? Yessssssss. I love peanut butter and any peanut butter-flavored food.

Do you like licorice? Not really. They’re not common here so I don’t seek it out.

Do you like lima beans? It doesn’t sound like something I’d enjoy.

Do you like limes? Not particularly.

What color are your bedroom walls? White.

Guess how many questions you've done. I don't know either, so just guess. Before clicking on it I saw it had 200 or so questions, so I’m guessing we’re at the 180 or 190 mark considering how many questions are left below this.

What's your favorite color to wear? I feel prettiest in dark green or maroon. Do you tell secrets when people confide in you? I’m not sure what this is supposed to be asking, but I’ll give two answers. (1) I don’t spill other people’s secrets when they confide in me, and (2) When people confide in me, sometimes I’ll be inspired to share a secret of my own too, especially if it’s relevant to their situation. If I don’t think it’s going to be helpful, I just keep it to myself. Do you listen to your music with the volume up really high? Only when I’m extremely upset or furious. Do you like to try new foods? Absolutely. How many different programs are you currently using? Like applications? Currently, I have Chrome, Viber, and Notes turned on. How many different operating systems have you used? I’ve gone through Windows XP, Windows Vista, Windows 8, and then whatever updates have been done on macOS since 2015 - I don’t really keep track of their names lol. What time is it now? 12:03 PM. Are you wearing socks? Nope. Are you comfortable with yourself? These days, no. Do you lose small things (like your car keys) often? Hah, yes. Is your mind in the gutter? No. Have you ever broken a bone? I haven’t. Are you more of an introvert or an extrovert? I’m a healthy mix of both, I’d say. Which is still a great improvement for me because I used to be an introvert all the way through. Do you read the dictionary for fun? I literally did this for a time right after watching Akeelah and the Bee and having that movie change my life. It made me want to join a shit ton of spelling bees, but my interest waned when I realized there weren’t any being held here.  Tater tots or fries? Fries, only because I’ve never had the first. Do you like to wear flip flops? No. The thongs irritate my skin all the time and they always give me wounds. Are you more of an optimist or pessimist? I’m normally optimistic but it’s easier to be pessimistic nowadays. Do you like animals? Yes :) Do you like little kids? If they aren’t being a giant, rude pain in the ass. Are you a 'people person'? Yes. If I can’t satisfy everyone it bothers me. Have you ever seen a rainbow? Sure. How was your day? I haven’t cried today but I’m still sad. Otherwise, I don’t have a lot of strong feelings about this day just yet. What do you plan to do tomorrow? I don’t know yet. When was the last time you did laundry? Around two or three months ago. Have you ever played Snake? On the really old Nokia phones? For sure. Have you ever played Scrabble? Yeah. I took it up for one semester as a PE, hahaha. I also played it a lot when I was younger. Are there any television commercials that really get on your nerves? At the moment no, but this has happened many times before. Do you like scary movies? Sure. Are you itchy anywhere on your body? The left side of my forehead started to feel itchy when I read this. What's the title of the last book you read? Midnight Sun. Do you read more fiction or nonfiction books? Nonfictionnnnnnn. Are you a member of any clubs or organizations? I used to be, but now I’m an alumna because I’ve graduated college. What color is your favorite pair of socks? I don’t have a favorite pair. Do you own a lava lamp? No. Do you have anything else to say? Thanks for serving as a distraction and letting me kill some time.

#basic surveys are my least favorite surveys #but i also haven't done one in a while so...what the heck have one of them #survey #surveys

[scrunchie-face]

My ranking of TS8 based on absolutely nothing but my personal opinion

From least to most favorite:

peace: this is the only song on the album i really don’t like. her accent/cadence sounds a little affected to me and there aren’t any lyrics or musical moments that really resonate.

invisible string: i feel like i might get some pushback on this since so many people seemed to LOVE this one but hear me out. This one is clearly about Joe and their relationship and for me, there is not a single song about him that she has written that has been as good as “Call It What You Want” and “New Year’s Day.” Every other song she has written since then about being happily in a relationship with Joe has fallen flat for me. Also, I’m not gonna lie, the more cynical and less romantic side of me finds the whole concept of the “invisible string” to be a bit trite and saccharine. “Isn’t it just so pretty?” To me, yes, it is a pretty thought and that’s all it is.

mirrorball: this song is pretty, and reminds me very strongly of the Speak Now era, but with the complexity and maturity that she’s obviously acquired since then. That being said, to me the metaphor feels like it’s trying to go in two different directions at once and neither one quite gets there, leaving a song that feels somewhat unfinished. It’s either a very pretty love song or a darker reflection on identity, but it never feels like it commits to either.

august: this is where we really start to get into “there’s nothing really wrong with it, I just like other tracks better” territory. Lyrically, I think it’s very poignant, with its reflections on love, time, and memory. Unfortunately, I think the whole “Teenage Love Triangle” hint actually does this song a disservice by indicating that the speaker is the “other woman.” Since the bent of the other two songs (”cardigan” and “betty”) seems to indicate that those two singers/speakers are the couple that is “meant to be” it gives the poor unnamed “august” singer a bit of an uphill battle for sympathy in context. That’s not to say I don’t have any sympathy for her; I have by far the least sympathy for James. Unfortunately, James gets a catchier song (more on that when i get to “betty”). Which brings me to the real reason for this low-ish ranking: I just don’t find the song as musically compelling as most of the others on the album.

this is me trying: as I suggested in the previous paragraph, a lot of the way I rank songs personally is by how much the music resonates with me. I can forgive a lot lyrically if the way the music moves gives me goosebumps. With “this is me trying,” there are several lyrics that I love. The repeated “I have a lot of regrets about that”? PERFECTION. Musically, however, the song as a whole doesn’t really impress itself upon me, making all but the couple lyrics I really love forgettable to me.

mad woman: this song, and the two on either side of it, were ranked somewhat arbitrarily. higher than “this is me trying” for having a little more edge and a more engaging tune, lower than “hoax” because I generally prefer sadness and angst to anger. This is by far the most vindictive track on the album, and while I understand it and think it’s executed very well, the tone isn’t totally appealing to me personally.

hoax: this song, to me, has a very strong Hozier vibe that I enjoy very much. As i said in my blurb about “mad woman” I connect more emotionally with the sadness and turmoil here, hence its higher ranking. “stood on the cliffside screaming ‘give me a reason’“?! Gorgeous, and if you’ve ever felt that way, the line resonates in your bones. “the only hoax I believe in” is such a complex line that I could probably write paragraphs about it; it’s got psychological, emotional, and even religious elements to it that I think are part of what makes such a sad and personal song still feel universally relatable. It asks you, what are your hoaxes? Which ones do you believe? Is it because you want to? Because you have to? betty: ranking this song was difficult, because i find the character of James to be incredibly irritating. Unfortunately, the questionable nature of James’ behavior and attitude towards Betty and the unnamed girl is not enough to condemn the song to a lower ranking because the tune is just so catchy and fun. It’s got one of the best hooks on the album: the rhyming of “Inez” and “she says” just delights me every time. The “--most times--” caveat is amusing and very in character for a teenager trying to explain himself. And then “the worst thing that I ever did was what I did to you.” It sounds super trite, yes, but it would’ve probably gotten my forgiveness when I was seventeen. Also I love “will you kiss me on the porch in front of all your stupid friends?” Bold words for someone in James’ position but I love the bravado and the way it pairs with the music. The triumph here may be premature but it’s SUPER contagious. epiphany: so this one is perhaps the most arbitrarily placed because I realized when I got the the end of my list that I had forgotten  it.... BUT that being said, I really like this song. It seems to be one of the more divisive on the album; people either love it or think it’s boring. I like it a lot. When we talk about big events--wars, pandemics--it’s very easy to distance ourselves from them and forget that those more affected than we are are people too. This song gently rehumanizes the people we see in books and newspapers and tv reports, reminding us that they are suffering, they are trying, and reminding them that they are seen and loved. It’s extremely beautiful and moving.

the 1: based on my previous claims that the music is  my most important factor in song ranking, this one may seem unfairly high. Like with “peace” I find the accent/modulation of her voice in this song to be somewhat affected and irritating. The tune, while fun and catchy, doesn’t really have much power behind it. But I enjoy it just enough that, paired with some absolutely spot-on lyrics, this becomes a song I was deeply attached to from the first listen. Anyone who has ever had an important relationship that came to nothing will recognize the brief emotional rollercoaster of “I thought I saw you at the bus stop, I didn’t though,” and feel absolutely convicted by the bridge. “persist and resist the temptation to ask you/ if one thing had been different/ would everything be different today?” If you’ve lost a friend or a lover, you’ve tormented yourself with that question, I guarantee it. Even off her musical A-game, she absolutely nails the emotions here, and I love it.

my tears ricochet: this song actually started out pretty close to the bottom and slowly made its way up. Honestly, the reason for its low ranking was that I still can’t quite figure out what it means. Taylor occasionally writes songs that are very hard to tease out into any sort of linear narrative or neat metaphor; you feel them more than you understand them. And for that reason it usually takes me a little more time to get to a point where I appreciate them. The relationship here is tangled; it’s not the simple bad guy/good girl that we would’ve seen in the Speak Now era, and I would argue that at times it’s unclear which party is even the speaker. Once my analytical mind got past that hurdle, I remembered that this is one of the most musically powerful songs on the album. The bridge? GOOSE.BUMPS. The way the music builds and pounds at “just not home... in your bones.” Shivers. Even if I don’t totally understand what the song means, i can feel the conviction and emotion in the words and music and that is what makes it such a pleasure to listen to.

cardigan: this song is simply beautiful. just lovely. sad and nostalgic and hopeful and it just hits on some stuff that is absolutely true. “when you are young they assume you know nothing./ But I knew you.” I recently had a conversation with my husband about this very concept. This idea that adults look down on young people simply because they don’t have “perspective.” But the truth is that young people know something very important: what it is like to be young and to experience things AS A YOUNG PERSON. Not as an adult looking back on being young, but as a person to whom these experiences are fresh and real and important. “cardigan” takes that whole concept: the struggle between youthful experience and adult perspective, and absolutely NAILS IT. Add in a touch of the sentiments from “the 1″: “i knew you’d haunt all of my what ifs.... i knew i’d curse you for the longest time,” and combine it with a melody that rises and falls and slows down and speeds up and you just have this gorgeous tribute to youth and life and love.

illicit affairs: i love this song so so much. I’ve never been in an “illicit affair,” but the regret and the confusion and the attachment and the love and the hate and the feeling of being trapped are all so raw and visceral that even if you’ve never felt anything like this before in your life you can feel it now. Underneath the fairly simple melody of “don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby,” you can hear the screaming anger and heartbreak. “look at this idiotic fool that you made me!” Gah. I can’t even. It’s just so real. So there. This is a song that you both understand AND feel and it’s so powerful it’s almost overwhelming. Taylor and her killer bridges absolutely ending me every time.

the last great american dynasty: this song is so fun. The story is funny and sad except the indomitable Rebecca doesn’t for a moment let you feel sorry for her. As soon as you see her pacing the rocks looking out over the ocean--a wistful, often angst-ridden position--the song turns right around and informs you that she stole a neighbor’s dog and dyed it green. And then, “and then it was bought by me.” The story has been so definitively about someone ELSE this time until suddenly SURPRISE! The twist at the end is delightful; every story we tell, every story we love, we tell it and love it because it’s about us too. And like i said, there is a quiet undercurrent of sadness and loneliness that never becomes the focal point of the song but is there giving it depth and something more to think about that facts and funny anecdotes. This song is a unique one in Taylor’s discography, and it stands up very well to that status.

exile: is my love for this song partially colored by the fact that Justin Vernon’s voice makes me swoon? Probably. The duet between him and Taylor is hair-raisingly beautiful and heartachingly melancholy. But that aside, I think the thing that first caught my attention was Taylor’s verse. The “staring honey/understudy/knuckles bloody” rhyme drives me absolutely WILD. It’s SO GOOD. It flows perfectly and poetically and honestly i transcend my body and scream with delight into the ether at those three lines every time. That is not an exaggeration. Also, “I’m not your problem anymore, so who am I offending now?” And of course the juxtaposition between “never gave a warning sign (i gave so many signs)” is this perfect description of how, to quote another, much older, lyric “miscommunication leads to fallout.” This song reminds me very much of “Story of Us.” In case you couldn’t tell from previous comments, this whole album, for me, recalls Speak Now, very strongly in many ways. I see her revisiting a lot of similar themes and stories with a more mature perspective and a different sound. Red  as well, actually, but I digress.

seven: i knew from very early on that this would be my favorite song on the album. Taylor’s voice goes places I have NEVER heard before, evoking something elemental and primal. “Before I learned civility/ I used to scream ferociously/ any time I wanted.” Her forays into actual childhood in her songwriting are periodic but relatively rare, and this is unquestionably the best of the lot. Here we see children, almost too young to remember exactly what happened, but marked forever by their experiences of nature and relationships. “I can’t recall your face/ I’ve still got love for you.” This song evokes all the things that dance around the edge of your memory: faces from long ago, the feeling of flying, the fear of falling, the irresistible impulse to plant yourself on the ground and fling your existence out into the world with your voice. The need to feel safe. The references to a friend’s troubled home life are oblique: “your dad is always mad... you won’t have to cry or hide in the closet,” and the solutions are childlike: “come live with me...and be pirates,” “move to India forever.” The song is an immersive experience, charged with feelings you can’t quite express, but that you know and remember, although they are perhaps faded a bit around the edges.

#taylor swift #folklore #ts8 #phew that was way more than i intended it to be #glad i did it tho

[deniigi]

I heard you that you were taking prompts and I thought that maybe seeing Brett or Foggy interact with Daredevil and Miles-Spidey from your ITSV verse would be pretty cool. Feel free to throw this away if it’s not what you’re looking for!

OH

I actually have something similar-ish to this in my drafts.

I’m putting this one under the cut since it’s a little longer.

Lol, so the premise of the larger piece this is from is that Technicolor Peter’s mutation reacts violently to the appearance of other spideys and kind of puts him into a berserk mode so all he wants to do is tear them limb from limb. Doesn’t show up much in this bit, but that’s the working idea here.

———–

“Put your hands up,” Brett called, full-voice.

Surprisingly, the four masks did this without question.

“Get on your knees.”

It was almost like they could sense the guns. Brett didn’tlike to aim one at anyone, but this shit was going too far. And Peter wasspeechless with fury this time. He’d tangled with a few of these characters onthe way to this particular alley and, to Brett’s surprise, had come out onbottom. Scrambling off from beneath one after the other.

Brett wasn’t sure if it was the quality of the costumes or thedesigns that pissed him off, or if it was the challenge to his territory, but anywayaround, little Pete was not havingthese cosplayers that night. He stayed crouched low against a nearby wall, morespiderlike than Brett had seen him.

Unhappy.

This was one unhappy Spidey.

He realized belatedly that his suspects were chatteringamong themselves and repeated the command for them to kneel.

“Dude, we gotta kneel,” one of them—the smallest one—hissedat the others.

“We don’t have time for this,” the one in the white suitsnapped.

“We don’t have timeto get shot either,” the small one insisted.

Boy had some sense in his head, then. That was a relief.

“He won’t shoot, he’s got no reason to—”

“Now. He’s got noreason to now.”

Brett really liked the small one. He glanced over to Peter,still sunken into the wall, and jerked his head a little. Asking him if he hadanything to say to these guys before they got to the hand-cuffing part of theevening. He didn’t respond.

Well, alright then.

“This is the last time I’m gonna say it, y’all. Get on yourknees,” Brett called.

“Hey, can you take a bullet?” the second tallest of thegroup asked the tallest over his shoulder.

“Take a—do I look like Superman to you???”

The second tallest Spidey turned his head to the side justbarely and shrugged lightly.

“Well, I mean. You dowork for a newspaper.”

“Is that seriously your baseline for bulletproof right now?”

“Yes?”

“Hey,” Brett called to get their attention. All four wentrigid and then eased up.

“Okay, alright, everyone shut up,” the tallest guy said tothe others. “This might be a good thing. We can make this work.”

Make what work? And why the fuck were they still blabberingon?

“This is it,” the smallest one moaned, “This is it. My dadis gonna kill me.”

“Same,” the white spidey sighed.

“No one’s dad is killing anyone,” The tallest guy said. “Weare just going to explain to this very nice officer and his very nice,marginally feral Spidey what’s goingon and through exuberance and charm, we will find the chain and then be righton our way—right, officer?”

Oh. That had been for his benefit, then, had it?

Ha.

Nice try.

 ****

“Name?”

“Parker.”

“Given name?”

“Peter.”

“Listen, sir. This is not a funny joke.”

“No, you listen, my friend. I am hilarious, but also 100% not trying to be funny right now. Name:Peter B. Parker. That one’s just Peter Parker.”

“So he’s your nephew, sir?”

This made the blond kid scream into his cuffed hands andsent the other two kids—kids becauseof fucking course they were—into peals of muffled giggling. The big uncle wasbeyond unimpressed.

“Yes,” he said, totally deadpan.

“Oh my god, no,”the blond kid burst out, “No, no, no.”

“He’s my nephew,” the uncle said tightly.

“I’m not. We’re cousins at most—”

“They named him after me ‘cause I’m so fucking handsome.”

“Oh my GOD, B. Shut the fuck up right—”

“They saw greatness and knew exactly what to do.”

This guy was. Well. He actually was kind of a riot. Half thestation was pretending like they weren’t giggling.

Funny, they were. Yes. But that did not make the situationone iota less unbelievable. Peter B. Parker had a state ID which literally,actually read ‘Peter Benjamin Parker’ and, for all that Brett could tell, itwas not a fake. He snuck it off to forensics to see if they thought it was afake, and while he and Steph held it, it fucking buzzed and zipped andshattered into color before resuming its normal corporeal form.

“Well, this is interesting,” Steph said.

Interesting, on the forensics team, was code for ‘bad.’

Steph and Kev came with Brett back into the bullpen wherethe blond kid was firmly renouncing any relation to his uncle. He was kind of ariot too.

“I’ve never met this man in my life,” he kept insisting. “Ionly know these guys. They were all, hey let’s do Halloween early—let’s allpretend to be Spiderman which is just silly,right?”

“Sir, do you have an ID?”

“And I said, like an idiot, no, yeah. That’s sounds likeit’ll be a great time, and really,it’s only karma that we’d end up getting arrested.”

“Sir,” Isabel said slowly, with immense patience.

“It’s a onesie, ma’am, not a whole lot of room for pockets.”

“Sir. It will be easier for all of us if you have an ID.”

“Yeah, Peter,” theuncle said nastily, “You heard the lady. The cheek of you, talking back likethat.”

“Oh my—he’s not myuncle. I swear.”

Isabel looked between the two of them and like. Even Brettcould see the resemblance there. From a distance even. Nah, man. Nice try.

“He’s not. This isjust a biological accident—”

“That’s what his mama calls him,” the uncle stage-whisperedto Isabel. He had absolutely charmed Isabel. They needed to get him a differentofficer for booking ASAP.

“Oh my god,” Blondie moaned into his hands. “This was amistake.”

Isabel could not keep her face straight. She asked for theID again and this time Blondie dug through his suit and shoved it at herwithout eye contact.

“Peter Parker,” she read.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You know, we’re familiar with a kid with this same name.”

“I am not even a little surprised, ma’am.”

“Are you guys all related?”

“Biologically and theoretically speaking—”

“Yep.” Uncle had this shit on lockdown. Blondie glared athim and pursed his lips. Kid looked like a model. Also a little homicidal. Heand Uncle probably ought to be placed in different holding cells.

Steph and Kev were entranced by these people. Even more sowhen Blondie’s ID did the same buzzing-zapping thing that Uncle’s had inIsabel’s hand. She nearly dropped it.

“What was that?” she asked.

“Well, most likely,it was the misalignment of particles from—”

“Act of god.”

Thanks, Uncle B. Blondie mugged at him with every bit of hisjaw he could weaponize. The kids were just about in tears. The girl looked kindof familiar, actually, now that Brett got a good look at her.

“How old are you?” he asked.

Silence among the children.

“Sixteen,” she said.

“Name?”

“Uuuuuh.”

Yeah, that’s what he thought.

“Need your name, honey,” he said. “Ain’t no use in making upone now.”

“Gwen.”

Now, was that so hard?

“And you?” he asked the young black boy next to her. Hedropped his eyes immediately.

“Miles.”

“How old are you, son?”

“Uh.”

Gwen elbowed him right in the ribs and gave him a Look.

“F-fifteen?”

Ummmm, no. Try again.

“Fourteen, sir.”

That was better. Someone had disciplined the ever-lovingshit out of this boy. He was good and respectful.

“What were you two doing out in the middle of the night withthe dream team over here?” Brett asked. “You guys forming a cosplaying club orsomething?”

“Uh.”

“We aren’t cosplaying,” Blondie snapped. “That guy’s thereal Spiderman.” He pointed at his uncle, who was offended as hell at theaccusation. “He got bit by a radioactive spider and then I got bit by a radioactive spider and then Gwen got bit by a—”

Okay, Brett got the idea. He looked at Uncle B.

“You’re Spiderman, then,” he said flatly. Uncle B thoughtabout it like a guy trying to remember where his damn keys were.

“Mmmmm, sure why not?”

What.

Who the fuck was he?

“Peter B. Parker,” Brett repeated. “Spiderman.”

“Pretty much.”

“Peter Parker,” Brett started.

“No, no. Peter B. Parker. The B’s important.”

This was ridiculous. Steph and Kev poked at the guy from theside and he lit up like he’d touched a live wire. His body jerked and burstinto colors like his ID had.

What.

The fuck.

“I’m—okay, you. You seem like some kinda scientist,” Brettsaid to Blondie who went stiff as a board and started stammering. “What thefuck is happening?,” Brett demanded. “I already got the night crew to dealwith, I don’t need any more crazy in my life right now.”

“Uuuuh. Can I? Have counsel?”

#fic #into the multiverse #dreamcoats verse #that person who sent me a message about getting Miles and Brett to interact a million years ago is responsible for this #I haven't stopped thinking about it since #ficlet

[crowkingwrites]

Battle of the Bands (Ch.20)

Pairing: Robb Stark x Reader, Jon Snow x Reader, Viserys Targaryen x Reader, Ramsay Bolton X Reader

Summary: You just moved into the city for the first tie all by yourself. After you get your dream summer job working for a small magazine, you find yourself in the middle of the city’s rock festival: Battle of the Bands. Local rock bands throughout the city compete to win a record deal that could change their lives. Your job? Get close to them and write about them online.A single girl in the city surrounded by rocker boys during the summertime. What could possibly go wrong?

Words: 1107 // AO3 Link

Chapter One // Chapter Two // Chapter Three // Chapter Four // Chapter Five // Chapter Six // Chapter Seven // Chapter Eight // Chapter Nine // Chapter Ten // Chapter Eleven // Chapter Twelve // Chapter Thirteen // Chapter Fourteen // Chapter Fifteen

Ramsay’s Ending (Chapter 16) Viserys’ Ending (Chapter 17) Jon’s Ending (Chapter Eighteen) Robb’s Ending (Chapter 19)

Your Ending - The Middle

“What?” Viserys reacted. “You’re not with Ramsay? But he said—

“You’re suing the whole magazine and this was all my fault. I—

“Did Robb Stark fire you?”

“No, well—

“Why are you here?” Viserys asked. His voice was different this time. It held no anger or rage, but confusion. “Did you come for me?”

“I…I came for me,” you gave Viserys your biggest shit smile. “I didn’t come here for you.” You watched Viserys’ face turn into something sour. He huffed and shifted his stance. He opened his mouth.

“You know—

“Know what? Were you going to say something sexy and clever? Don’t worry, I’ll assume it was something to do with how slutty I am, right?” You started to walk away from the rockstar until you had something else on your mind. You stopped and turned to see Viserys still standing there, almost dumbfounded.

“Hey Viz!” you called out to him. Viserys looked back to you, meeting your eyes. “Being a slut isn’t a bad thing. Maybe you should try it sometime after all, you’re desperate for someone to fuck you, right?”

You heard him say a comment back, but it was too late. You felt the sun shine down on you like the gods themselves were proud of your embracing your active sexuality. You made your way out of the festival and back to your apartment.

A day later, you found yourself in your car with mostly everything inside. You followed your dad’s van on the highway back to your parent’s house. Your best friend was on speaker phone with you.

“I fucking forgot your hometown is literally the cutest town in the world,” Margaery said. “Are you going to work at your dad’s bookstore?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled and glanced behind you. Margaery’s truck kept most of furniture in place, but seeing Margaery behind the wheel of a vehicle twenty times her size was too funny to ignore. “He introduced me to books. He knows I love books as much as he does.”

“But would you want to stay there?”

“I don’t know,” you smiled to yourself. “I guess we’ll find out once time passes. Maybe I’ll move back into King’s City, maybe I won’t.”

“You’re not gonna quit writing are you? I really liked your articles. You’re really funny to read,” Margaery said.

“No,” you sighed. “But, there’s no newspapers hiring in my town. There’s nothing out there.”

“So make something.”

Margaery’s words stuck with you when you unpacked everything in your old room. Margaery stood with you for a week to see your hometown. You walked along the river and took a day trip to the local boardwalk where your dad’s bookshop was. Margaery particularly loved the princess-themed tea room she visited.

You both shared a sad goodbye. She went back to King’s City and you were back home. Summer turned into Fall and then December slowly crept up to you.

Working at your dad’s bookshop was a nice change. No boys were down your throat or up your ass. You found a new peace as you’re your fingers would touch the spines of the fictional characters that gave you comfort and love over all these years. You returned to your desk where the register was.

“What’s wrong kiddo?” you father asked.

“Am I making a mom face?”

“Yeah, you’re making a mom face. What’s wrong?”

You let out a loud sigh and looked out the window. “I miss writing. I guess. I don’t know. Maybe I’ll write fanfiction or something.” You chuckled to yourself. You would never write fanfiction. Fanfic writers were a special breed of sleepless, late-night suffering, burrito blanket wearing people. You admired them for everything they did, but you wanted something more.

“Do what Margie told you.”

“Make something? What? Do I write a book?”

“No, start a magazine,” your dad smiled. “You worked at one.”

“Yeah, I worked at a small magazine for a couple of months. I don’t think I’m qualified to start one.” You started shaking your head.

“Well, why not?”

“It’s-I’m just—

“I quit being a lawyer to run this shop. I love books. That was my experience. I never once worked at a bookshop before. I just loved books.” Your dad had a point. “You worked for a magazine. West Rivers doesn’t have a trendy magazine, but we could.”

An idea came to mind. It burned and it filled your stomach with joy. You grabbed your laptop and opened it. You hadn’t spoken with the Stark family in months, but, if anything, you knew deep down they were good people. You started an email telling your story and asking for advice on how to start a magazine or just how to start something.

You bit your lip down hard. Maybe they wouldn’t respond. Maybe you left everyone angry and pissed off. Why would they help you? You got the magazine sued. They probably hate you.

You took a deep breath. No, you wouldn’t let your anxiety get the best of you again. The email was sent. The worst thing they could do was never respond.

For the next two days, you decorated your home for the holidays with your mom. Lights and candles were everywhere. You switched on your mom’s Hallmark channel and stepped into the kitchen to make hot chocolate. Your phone buzzed.

Y/N,

I am soooooo happy you reached out to me! Once I heard you left, I was so sad. I really wanted to meet you. [Plus, is it weird that bran told me you were gonna reach out to me?] I’m so so so sorry for how things turned out for you. Jon and Robb can be…true Stark men sometimes. Ugh.

Jon’s in the music studio! He’s working on his first album. Robb and I still have the magazine. We didn’t get sued after all. Viserys didn’t have enough evidence to take us to court. He’s just the whiniest baby. [Sister’s pretty cool though, not gonna lie] And I spoke with Ramsay yesterday and we talked about you. He still thinks of you time to time. And he’s also going to be my personal lawyer to take my brand to the next level.

ANYWAYSSS, I would be so happy to help you start your brand! Robb told me about the cute river town you live in. I’d like to visit so we can talk face to face! Maybe sometime next year? How does that sound?

Love, Sansa Stark

You smiled and started your reply.

“Sansa, I think this is a start of a beautiful friendship. Let’s meet up next month.”

Note to Self: You can be badass all by yourself.

In this order:

Chapter 16 - Ramsay’s Ending Chapter 17 - Viserys’ Ending Chapter 18 - Jon’s Ending Chapter 19 - Robb’s Ending Chapter 20 - Your Ending

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#battle of the bands #batb #ramsay bolton #robb stark #jon snow #viserys targaryen #multiple ending fic #fanfic #got #got fanfic

[swanqueeneverafter]

Distance Is Overrated.

Part of the ‘Between The Pages’ series. Set between 'The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter' and 'True North'.

Having killed for the first time since becoming a mother, Regina is keeping Emma at arms length. Confused by her behaviour, Emma is nevertheless determined to do her job as Deputy and find out the truth behind Graham's death.

Storybrooke. Graveyard. (Mourners have gathered to pay their last respects to Graham, the town sheriff. Rain falls as Mary Margaret gives the eulogy beside the grave.) Mary Margaret: "Sheriff Graham was a kind, brave man. Even though clearly fighting his own demons, Graham served the people of this town with compassion and respect. We will all miss you dearly and hope that wherever you are, you have finally found peace." (Mary Margaret lays a rose upon the casket and steps aside. With a nod from Mayor Mills, the pallbearers begin lowering the casket into the ground as the other mourners slowly disperse. From across the way, Emma Swan watches Regina give Henry a gentle squeeze of his shoulder. Locking eyes momentarily, Deputy Swan and Mayor Mills stare at one another silently before Regina turns and walks away, with an arm around her son.)

Mills House. Night. (Pulling up outside the Mayor's mansion, Emma stares up at the well-lit building before exiting her car and walking down the long path towards the door. Determined to talk with Regina, Emma is about to press the doorbell when her phone rings. Frowning slightly when she sees the name calling her, Emma steps back from the porch and answers.) Emma: "Regina, I was just-" Regina: "What are you doing here, Deputy?" Emma: (Caught off guard by Regina's use of her title:) "I-I just wanted to talk. Do you think maybe I could-" Regina: "I think I've made my position perfectly clear, Miss Swan. Now, if you'd like to discuss anything work related, it can surely wait until morning." Emma: "Seriously? (Walking away from the house to look up at a brightly lit window, at which Regina is standing:) You're still pissed at me? Regina, I was only doing my job." Regina: "And as Graham's friend, I told you that ordering an autopsy would be going against his wishes, his religion." Emma: "Yeah and I respect that. Which is why I ordered the blood tests rather than a full autopsy. I thought you of all people would want me to do my job properly?" Regina: "Graham's family has a history of heart trouble. You saw as much from Dr. Whale's report." Emma: "His preliminary report. If Graham really had a heart attack then the blood tests will confirm that. I'm only doing what any sheriff worth a damn would do. (There is a long silence:) Regina?" Regina: "You're not sheriff yet, Deputy." (Before Emma can reply, Regina hangs up the phone and turns off the hallway light. Her jaw agape, Emma stares up at the Mayor's silhouette before turning on her heel and walking away.)

Storybrooke. Granny's Diner. (Seated in a quiet corner of the diner, Emma wears a scowl on her face while watching Regina, who is reading the newspaper at her own table by the window. Averting her gaze briefly when Regina lowers the paper to speak with Ruby, Emma watches their interaction closely. Finding herself slightly annoyed by the friendly conversation, Emma is slow to react when, laughing, Ruby makes eye contact and starts moving towards her table.) Ruby: "Drink, Emma?" Emma: "Oh, well I'm supposed to be-" Ruby: "Working. I know. (Glances back at Regina:) Did you two have a fight?" Emma: (Scoffs:) "Where have you been?" Ruby: (Rolls her eyes:) "You know what I mean. A 'fight' fight?" Emma: "What are you talking about?" Ruby: "Emma, come on. I know about you two." Emma: (Slightly panicked:) "You do?" Ruby: "Hey, it's okay. I can keep a secret." Emma: "But how did you-" Ruby: (Shrugs:) "When you're in my line of work, you learn to read the signs. Plus you two were totally flirting with each other that day you spilled your cocoa over yourself. So, what was it, couldn't decide who would be the little spoon?" Emma: (Smirks, despite herself:) "She's angry with me for doing my job." Ruby: (Knowingly:) "Ah." Emma: "What?" Ruby: "Nothing. Just that Regina doesn't really like change. For better or worse, Graham would usually listen to her advice on police matters." Emma: "Yeah and he grew to resent her for it. Trust me, things will work better if the sheriff's office doesn't have to run everything by the Mayor." Ruby: "Hm, maybe. I just wouldn't expect Regina to come around to your way of thinking just yet. (Catching the look on Emma's face:) But don't give up. (Points discreetly towards the counter:) When Regina first started coming here, she would only ever sit in one spot. It took me a long time to convince her that the table by the window was better. (Winks:) Cocoa with cinnamon, right?" (Emma nods and Ruby goes to fetch her order. Resuming her one-sided staring contest with Regina, Emma jumps when Ruby quickly returns and places her cocoa on the table before her.) Ruby: "By the way, with Regina, giving her space is not the way to go. Never stop trying. It may take awhile, but I get the feeling she’s worth the effort." (Walking away, Ruby notices a small smile cross Emma's lips before taking a sip of her cocoa.)

Mayor's Office. (Regina sits working behind her desk when her phone rings. After the third ring, she sighs and glances over. Upon seeing Emma's name displayed, Regina reaches for the phone and picks it up. Smiling to herself, Regina allows the phone to ring three more times before finally answering.) Regina: "Yes, Miss Swan?" Emma: "Regina, hey. How's it going?" Regina: "I'm fine, thank you. Yourself?" Emma: "Yeah I'm... I'm pretty good." Regina: (After an awkward silence:) "Was there something you needed?" Emma: "Oh. Er, yeah. I just wanted to check and see how things were going and whether you wanted to join me for lunch? I kinda skipped breakfast." Regina: "I see. (Pause:) Missing meals isn't advisable, Miss Swan. Especially with a high pressure job like yours." Emma: "Yeah, I know. I guess I just wanted to make a start on the files here. Graham's filing system was pretty antiquated, so I've been entering old cases onto the computer." Regina: "Fascinating." Emma: (Ignoring the tone in Regina's voice, brightly:) "Yeah and I've made a lot of progress too. Wanna see?" Regina: "That won't be necessary Miss- (Regina receives a text message and opens it to see a photo of Emma's desk piled high with case files:) I’m impressed." Emma: "Mmhmm, but now the lack of food is really starting to get to me and I thought you might like to-" Regina: "I'm sorry, Miss Swan, I can't. You're not the only one with things piled high on her desk." Emma: "Really? That doesn't sound like you, Madam Mayor. (As Emma speaks, Regina looks down at her own desk which is clear save for one already completed document:) Tell you what, why don't I pick us up something from Granny's and bring it over to your office?" Regina: "No, really my-" Emma: (Cutting in:) "Regina. Why won't you talk to me? What happened with Graham... It wasn't our fault. (Silence:) We did nothing wrong. (Again, silence:) Look, the whole point of pretending to be at each other's throats was to get Graham off our backs and now that he's gone... I just feel like you're blaming me for some reason." Regina: (Quickly:) "I'm not." Emma: "Okay. Well that's something I guess. So why don't you let me come over and we can have lunch together? (Silence:) I..." Regina: "Yes, Miss Swan?" Emma: (Sighs:) "I miss you." Regina: (Smiling at this:) "I miss you too, Emma." Emma: "So I can come over?" Regina: (A long pause:) "I'll have a kale salad." Emma: (Laughs:) "With extra fries, right?" (Emma hangs up and grabs her keys, smiling. Just as she's about to leave, she bumps into Henry who has appeared beside her.) Henry: (Smiling impishly:) "I could go for some fries." (At that moment, Emma receives a text. Looking at her phone, she sees a photo of Regina bent seductively over her desk. Letting out a whimper, Emma reluctantly looks up from her phone over to Henry who is now waiting for her expectantly.)

Storybrooke General Hospital. (Emma stands talking with Dr. Whale when Regina enters the room.) Regina: "I thought I might find you here." Emma: "Yeah, Whale called me. (To Whale:) You called Regina?" Regina: (Cutting in:) "Of course he did. I was Graham's emergency contact." Emma: "Of course you were." Dr. Whale: "Would you ladies like a minute alone?" Regina: "No, that won't be necessary. God knows Miss Swan can't handle being alone with me." Emma: "Hey, I told you why I couldn't come to your office-" Dr. Whale: (Clearing his throat:) "Ladies! I do have patients to see." Regina: "Fine. Where's Graham's test results?" Dr. Whale: "Well..." Emma: "I've got them. Dr. Whale and I were just discussing what I should be looking for when I open them." Regina: (To Whale:) "You haven't read them?" Emma: "I requested the results be for my eyes only." Regina: (Icily:) "I see." Emma: (To Whale:) "If I have any questions-" Dr. Whale: "You have my number. Now, if you'll excuse me." (Dr. Whale leaves.) Emma: (Awkwardly:) "So... do you want to open them together or-" Regina: "No, thank you. I wouldn't want to get in the way of you doing your job." Emma: (When Regina turns to leave:) "Regina. I'm sorry about yesterday. I was coming to see you and then-" Regina: "Henry was there. Yes, you mentioned that. It's funny, he used to sneak out of school and visit me for lunch. I guess now I know where I stand." Emma: "Regina..." Regina: (Walking away:) "I'll expect your finished report on my desk by tonight, Deputy."

Sheriff's Office. (Entering her office, Emma tosses the test results on her desk before taking a seat behind it. Ripping open the seal, Emma pulls out the pages from the file and begins to read. A short time later, brow furrowed, Emma reaches for the phone and begins to dial.) Emma: "Hello, Dr. Whale? It’s Emma. Do you have time to answer a few questions for me? Great." Mayor's Office. (The case file lands on the desk in front of Regina.) Emma: "There it is." Regina: "And you're ready for me to see it. (Cautiously:) Are you sure?" Emma: "It's all there in black and white. Whale confirmed it, talked me through all the science." Regina: (Stands, turning to face the window:) "And the verdict?" Emma: "Natural causes. As predicted." Regina: (Lets out a sigh of relief:) "Really?"

Emma: (As Regina turns to face her, shrugs:) "Underlying genetic heart condition. Nothing that could've been done to save him.” Regina: "I see." Emma: "I hope... (Breathes:) I hope the same can't be said for us?" Regina: (Considers her:) "I'd like to think so." (Looks down for a moment a small smile on her lips.) Emma: "I am sorry about standing you up before." Regina: "Oh, that's... that's all right." Emma: "Which is why the case file isn't the only thing I brought." Regina: "Oh?" Emma: (Motions toward the file:) "I brought you lunch, too." (Giving Emma a confused smile, Regina looks down and opens the file cover. Watching her closely, Emma sees a fire ignite behind the older woman's eyes.) Regina: (Her mouth suddenly dry:) "Have... have I ever mentioned how adorable I find you in that hat?" Emma: (Smirks, moving closer:) "No." Regina: "Or...or how that jacket brings out the colour of your eyes?" Emma: (Stands before her:) "I think I'd remember that." Regina: "Hm. (Looking down once more:) Well, Miss Swan, I don't know how much nutritional value these have... (Reaching down:) But they're very much appreciated." (Regina holds up a pair of black panties, now dangling from her finger.) Emma: "You're welcome." Regina: (Letting the underwear slip from her finger back onto the desk:) "You know, I had considered skipping lunch." Emma: "Oh, but you can't do that." Regina: "I know. Especially now that I find myself much hungrier than I've been in a long time." Emma: (Knowingly:) "Ravenous." (Closing the distance between them, Regina kisses Emma fervently, as the Deputy pulls her in closer. Suddenly their hands are everywhere, Emma pinning Regina's arms to her sides by her jacket as she trails kisses down the mayor's body. Shrugging her arms free and perching herself on the edge of her desk, Regina pulls her shirt over her head in one motion while Emma sinks to her knees. Laying kisses on her the mayor’s stomach, Emma's hands frantically push Regina's skirt up around her hips, placing a kiss between the brunette's thighs before ripping the mayor's panties from her body.) Regina: (Her head thrown back:) "Oh god." (Tossing Emma's beanie aside, Regina runs her hands through the blonde's hair. Before Emma's tongue has a chance to delve deeper however, Regina pulls her to her feet so that they are kissing once more. Unbuckling the Deputy's jeans, Regina slides her hand inside to confirm both Emma's lack of underwear and her undeniable arousal.) Regina: "My god, Emma, you're so-" Emma: "I know." (Growling low in her throat, Regina grabs Emma by the hips and spins her around, pushing her back onto the desk and pulling the jeans down and off the blonde woman's legs. Reaching back momentarily to unzip her skirt, Regina allows it to pool at the floor. Stepping out of it, Regina begins to crawl between Emma's widely spread legs. Allowing herself a quick taste, Regina's moans mingle with Emma's. Moving further up the body beneath her, Regina growls in frustration at the sight of Emma's turtleneck. Grabbing the letter opener on her desk, Emma has barely a moment to register it before Regina slices through the offending garment in one motion.) Emma: "Fuck, that was so hot." Regina: (Practically purring, echoing Emma:) "Mm, I know." (Moving to straddle Emma's hips, they both moan again as Regina lowers herself onto Emma's lap. But, as soon as Emma's hands reach up to squeeze the mayor's luscious ass, Regina suddenly stiffens.) Emma: "What is it?" Regina: (Looking over her shoulder:) "Did you lock the door?" Emma: (Wincing:) "Um, no?" (Before Emma can stop her, Regina, clad only in her bra, jumps from the desk and runs for the door, sliding to a stop before turning the key.) Emma: (Sitting up on the desk, chuckling:) "You are the only person I know who'd-" Regina: (With a finger to her lips:) "Shh!" (Emma glares at her but remains quiet. Almost as if on cue, the sound of the janitor's cart is heard approaching. At the sound of Leroy reaching for his keys, Regina keeps her hand firmly on the lock. After several moments of trying to enter, Leroy gives up and moves away from the door.) Regina: (Sighs in relief:) "That was too close." Emma: (Suddenly behind her:) "You can say that again. (Slices Regina's bra from her body with the letter opener:) There. Much better." (Turning to see that they are now both completely naked, Regina reaches for Emma once more. Lifting the brunette into her arms, and feeling Regina's legs wrap around her, Emma immediately realises something.) Emma: "We're not gonna make it to the desk." Regina: (Grabbing Emma by the hair, pulling her in for a breath-stealing kiss:) "Take me. Anywhere. Now." (Not needing to be told twice, Emma quickly looks around and finds her target: the couch. Moving hurriedly on unsteady, shaking legs, Emma somehow manages to maneuver them over and onto the couch, but not before bumping into the drinks table, which in turn knocks over the one remaining light in the room, plunging the office into darkness...)

The End.

#sq #swanqueen #swan queen

[thesffcorner]

Truly Devious

Truly Devious is the first book in a YA mystery/thriller series written by Maureen Johnson. It follows Steve, a high school junior, who gets accepted to Ellingham Academy, a free private high school founded by Mr Ellingham: a newspaper and steel magnate, who viewed learning as a form of play. She gets admitted to the school because of her peculiar interest in true crime and investigations, specifically because she wants to solve the famous Ellingham mystery: who kidnapped and killed his family. This book got rave reviews; people said it was atmospheric, creepy, clever and I went into it with high expectations, but also a lot of skepticism, mostly because me and YA thrillers don’t tend to always agree.

I can happily say that this book delivers on most of the hype. It’s well written, both the case in the past and the case in the present are interesting, and the characters are well developed. However, I can’t fully recommend it, or even really explain how I feel about it because of the ending, or rather the lack thereof. I don’t mean this is an open ending, I mean there isn’t one. This is a part one to the mystery, and neither the past nor the present case are solved. I imagine we will get the answer in the sequel, but I am apprehensive, because I saw on Goodreads that there will be a third book. I just don’t see how this mystery can be stretched out into even just 2 books, let alone more; as such I might come off as a bit more negative than I probably intended, because half of a mystery is the ending, and without that how can you really be satisfied. Before we talk about that, let’s talk about the setting. The plot is set in Ellingham Academy, a private boarding school in Vermont. It was founded in the 30’s by Albert Ellingham, an incredibly wealthy man, who owns American steel, a newspaper and a production studio. He’s a true tycoon, a man clearly inspired by the likes of Howard Hughes, Joseph Pulitzer and Warren Buffet, self-made millionaires, hard core capitalists and people who as his friend Detective Marsh puts it “think they are invincible”. I like the idea of the Academy, this Montessori type establishment where learning is play, and the curriculum is very specifically tailored to the student’s interests. However, as always, I don’t see why it has to be a special high school, and can’t just be a private college or conservatory, and have the characters be 17-18, instead of 15-16. Ellingham Academy is already described as an old, classic style small, private, liberal arts college, down to being set in the middle of nowhere, on a hill, with a mostly inaccessible road and surrounded by woods. This makes for a possibly interesting atmosphere; this old isolated house, full of mystery and haunted by the past, surrounded by nature, full of an secret passages, tunnels, catacombs, etc. It should have made for an excellent backdrop to this murder mystery, but unfortunately I feel the setting just wasn’t fully utilized. Johnson does spend a great deal of time and effort into meticulously describing the Academy, the Minerva house and the grounds, but her descriptions are very sterile. There’s no sense of atmosphere or tension; a lot of the time it’s just paragraphs explaining what is on what wall, or what is what color and long tangents about the Ellinghams. This is also why I kind of shrug in confusion when I hear people say this book is creepy; nothing that happens and nothing that is said on the page is creepy; it lack proper atmosphere. If you want a book set in a small liberal arts mansion, surrounded by woods, that’s even set in Vermont, try If We Were Villains; even the Charlotte Holmes series did a better job with the setting and atmosphere. The plot really is where this book excels. It’s clear to me that Maureen Johnson is a fan of mystery novels and whodunnits; there are tons of references to Sherlock Holmes, Hercule Poirot, Miss Marple, and even noir style detective books. The Ellingham mystery is even reminiscent of the case in Murder on the Orient Express; both set during the Prohibition, and both revolving around a cast of characters implicated in the disappearance and murder of a rich, self-made millionaire’s family. There’s talk of politics of the time, a prominent clash between Mr. Ellingham and the anarchists, and the person who confessed to the crime has clearly not committed it. The way the investigation is lead by Steve too was very old school; she makes deductions based on clues and reasoning that all make sense and we can also pick up on as readers, there are clues in the interview transcripts she reads, and in general the case itself was interesting to keep me invested. The main issue with the plot was actually how the present day mystery and the past mystery intersected, which wasn’t helped by the pacing. It takes a long time before the present day story catches up to the past, and especially at the start, I really didn’t care about Ellingham and his plight, because we quickly find out that his wife and daughter are dead, meaning he never found them. So it was just a slow trudge through the motions he took on the day, and then at one point we just top cutting back to the past, because we have to focus on the present day mystery. We only come back to Ellingham in the very, very last chapter. It’s not well balanced, and it doesn’t feel like the present day story and the past are connected at all, other than Steve being interested in solving both. The present day story is interesting, but even still, I’m not sure what Hayes filming his project had to do with the Ellinghams, other than tangentially being related because they are filming a short about the Ellingham mystery. There is a thematic connection, linking to Steve’s assignment about putting a human face on mystery (which was something that really warmed me to the dean of students as a character), but other than that, even the way Steve figures out what happened, has nothing to do with the past mystery. Speaking of Hayes, this book’s other strong suit are the characters. There are plenty of them so I won’t go over all of them, but they are all developed, and interesting enough to hold my attention. Ellingham and his posse were straight out of an Agatha Christie novel; I honestly wish that the book had maybe split it’s time more evenly, focusing on a core character in the past as well as the present, so I could get more easily invested. From the present day, we have a few of the larger parts: Elle, Janelle, Nathan, Hayes and David. Elle was fine; she was very much the type of person you would find in a private boarding school, and I enjoyed how open she was about her personality, body and sex life. It’s always nice to see female characters who are a bit off and are actually in tune with their confidence and body. Janelle was also fine; I liked she was openly out, gets a girlfriend pretty quickly, and though there’s a little jealousy on Steve’s part, they very quickly move past it, and have a healthy, supportive friendship. I really liked their little trio of Janelle, Nate and Steve. Hayes was the typical Youtube star, or at least the general stereotype of someone who is attractive and charming and uses other people to do the actual difficult work for him. I liked that even though he wasn’t the nicest person, the book didn’t demonize him, and acknowledged that he did indeed have talent and could do at least some of the things he claimed he could. Nate was a surprise to me, because I expected the book to take a different direction with him (which it still might in the sequel, but I’m really hoping it won’t). He’s a writer, so he’s mostly there to discuss how difficult and annoying, while at the same time exhilarating writing can be, and I really enjoyed his banter with the other characters. David was interesting; he was kind of abrasive and an asshole, though I almost think he wasn’t enough of an asshole to Steve after what she does to him, and her horrible, non-apology she gives him. The ending caught me off guard, though in hindsight it makes a lot of sense, so I give this book points for this. I won’t spoil it, but this book does have a romance, and I surprisingly didn’t mind it. I expected someone different to be the love interest, and I was pleasantly surprised at how it actually was. Even when the romance starts, the book doesn’t spend too much time using him as a red herring, which I appreciated; I don’t know if this is just a YA thing, or a genre thing left over from noir stories, but why is the love interest always a suspect, but never actually the perpetrator? Finally Steve, who was the best developed and most complete character. I liked that she had a set personality, while there still being room for her to grow. Even though she’s awkward, and shy, she was still funny, still had good banter with the boys and the rest of the school, and was confident and smart enough to solve the present day mystery. I liked her relationship with Larry, I liked her relationship with the other characters, and enjoyed watching her grow, even if I didn’t always agree with her decisions, and thought what she does to David was horrible (and her being angry at him on the bus for helping, instead of at her parents who are the real reason she had to even be in the situation in the first place, was dumb and never addressed). All in all, a decent start to a possibly interesting mystery, depending on the answers we get in the sequel. Not bad, but as an incomplete story, I can’t in good faith recommend it, or rate it any higher, though I still think that if you like classic style mysteries and detectives, you will probably enjoy it.

#truly devious #truly devious review #moni talks #book review

[a-mountain-ash]

A Very Winchester Mystery

A special little ficlet for @ain-t-bovvered‘s 800 follower “Tales of the Winchesters” project! I visited the Winchester Mystery House a couple years back and couldn’t resist. Even tossed in a little personal easter egg from my time there because it was too good and I swear the ghosts played a little prank on me. Also, I’m sure the WIL CFO is perfectly decent person, but I needed someone to commit the crime :P

We know who the Winchesters are. We're not talking the originals, of course, though I suppose it's not out of the realm of possibility for them to be related. We are ghosts, after all, so the realm of possibility is quite large. We mean the new Winchesters. The brothers. The ghost slayers.

You see, the thing about this place that we inhabit is that it's very popular. Everyone comes here. Demons, ghouls, vampires, werewolves. They enjoy a little bit of whimsy as much as the next fellow.  Some people even drag their own personal ghosts with them, pulled along by their attachment to some piece of jewelry or other. Those times are when we get the good gossip.

The Winchesters almost got me last week, but I got away because my daughter here was catching a flight for this vacation she's on. I guess that Dean boy doesn't do planes.

Sam and Dean smoked my aunt's bones a few year's back when she was haunting me. Now I'm a ghost, too. Irony, amiright?

'Pretty sure I'm half way to angry spirit, and I'm afraid the Winchesters are gonna nab me before my boy stands at the alter in a couple months. You guys have any tips on how to stay on the good path?' 'Sure Fred, find some good friends if you can. We have poker nights once a week to vent. Congratulations on the engagement!'

And that, my good listener, is why we are a little bit worried. To give you some background, the Winchester Mystery House is a big thing. People spend real money to come walk through Sarah's wacky rooms and miniature stairwells. Personally, at this point in our ghostly existences, we don't totally understand the appeal, but the point still stands that people are here constantly. They're always with a tour guide, but every now and again, people get away from the group and we have to set them straight. Nicely of course. We weren't lying when we told Fred to find some friends. Being together all these years has really helped us stay on the straight and narrow.

What you have to understand is that we all want to be here, and not for revenge. Absolutely none of us were trapped here and if we really wanted to, we could probably find a way to get a reaper to come take us up, though none of us knows how. Sarah Winchester was the most excellent of ladies. During our lives, she took care of us and our families well and we are simply repaying the favor in death. We keep the property safe, defending it from harm, and keeping the still hidden rooms clean until the property managers finally find them. Occasionally we play a little mischief on tourists who get off the beaten track, like that time some sisters missed a sign and found their ways into a private area and we shut the gate on them. They got out fine, but they knew what happened, and stayed on the path after that.

Anyway, it all started a few weeks ago when apparently somebody in the higher-ups of Winchester Investment LLC decided to get greedy. We don't really understand how that whole situation works because we only know what we hear or see in the newspaper, but we know enough. WIL is in charge of this whole operation and they run it for the descendants of John and Mayme Brown, the couple who bought the house after Sarah died, may she rest in peace. One night, someone tried setting the estate on fire. Nothing of this scale had ever occurred before and we may have lost our cool, just a bit. It happened again a week later. Needless to say, the Winchesters and their angel friend Castiel were all here now, and we were going to have to try really hard to get them to see what was happening here before they found a way to burn us all. 

As it happened though, the Winchesters were surprisingly willing to listen to reason. It might be because we steered them into a room with only two doors, one of which lead to a 15 foot drop off and the other of which we blocked off with 20 or so ghosts strong, but you know, technicalities. They listened.

"Cas, what just happened?" Dean asked.

Oh my goodness, he was gorgeous! Those eyes. Mabel would definitely want to see him. She hadn't seen a cute tourist in weeks.

"Obviously the ghosts are preparing to kill us, Dean. I didn't think that would require an explanation."

The angel was a funny one. We've heard tell of them coming down to earth, but none have come to the house. They must think they're above fun, but we all knew this one is a little different.

"Yeah, yeah Cas. Thanks for the pep talk. I mean, how many of them are there. You can see them, right?"

"Ah, of course. There are currently 19 of them in the room. I believe there are a few more outside the door, but I don't have x-ray vision so you'll have to bear with me."

We really could have appeared to them then, but it was far too good a show to end it straight away. The tall one, Sam, looked like he'd swallowed a whole lemon while he looked between his brother and the angel. Castiel and Dean were so focused on talking about us that it was entirely impossible they'd forgotten about us. Watching them waffle and bicker before us in their FBI suits, it was hard to believe the vast quantity of stories we'd heard all the years before.

"Alright, well what are we going to do about it?" Sam finally asks practically. "We can't go shooting salt rounds inside a century old work of art and we don't have enough salt for that many ghosts at once."

At this point, we were seriously confused about how they'd acquired the reputation they had. That said, the threat of shots being fired at dear Sarah's carefully chosen wallpaper was enough to make a few of us show ourselves. When our best diplomats, Mr. Jones, Margaret, and John, materialized before them, their reactions (or lack thereof) were disappointing though not surprising. After all, with decades of ghost hunts under their belts, nothing should really shock them anymore.

"I would strongly recommend that you do not fire inside our home." Margaret spoke first, in her best friendly intimidation voice. She practiced it daily in front of Sarah's looking glass.

Despite her warning, Dean raised his gun anyway. Effie giggled invisibly at the glorious eye rolling his actions earned him from both Castiel and Sam. The older Winchester swung his gun in her direction. Admittedly, it was fairly impressive how good his aim was from sound alone. Had he fired, he would have hit her squarely in the head.

"God, Dean, what did she just say?" Sam was definitely the reasonable one of the two.

"Yeah, yeah. I heard her. Ghosts say lots of crap, though. Just being on the safe side."

"We will definitely not be allowed back inside if we damage this home, Dean. Even if they do think we're FBI."

"Ugh, fine." Dean lowered his weapon as Castiel placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "What are we supposed to do then?"

"Listen to us, you goon." Mr. Jones spoke then, finally seeing his in. He was a gruff older man, his skin tanned despite his deathly pallor from hours in the sun picking fruit in Mrs. Winchester's orchards. He had died very suddenly one day when a branch had snapped and his ladder had fallen with him at the top.

"We're listening." Sam said quickly before Dean could speak again.

"We're good spirits. None of us are vengeful. We chose to stay here after our deaths, even after Mrs. Winchester passed, in order to protect her property. This place was a good home to many of us and she cared for our families like her own. We just help maintain the property and keep the visitors safe."

"Then why the recent deaths?" Castiel asked.

"Someone is sending people to try and burn the estate to the ground. We believe it must be someone at the organization trying to collect insurance money or something." John spoke now. "One of our younger ghosts, Elmer, lost his temper the first time. The second time, it was Charlie. We aren't vengeful spirits, but protecting this place is our purpose and someone is trying to destroy it."

"You can see we're very much in possession of our faculties, even after almost a century. More for some. But this home must be protected. If it is lost, we truly will go insane." Margaret had dropped her ominous tone in favor of something friendlier.

"Won't you disappear?" Dean asked. "Isn't it the house that you're attached to?"

"No. We are connected to the entire estate, down into the soil that we tended and farmed. We cannot be burned with this house, but if the house burns we will have nothing grounding us to our purpose and then we truly will become vengeful."

"We can't have you killing people, even if they are arsonists." Castiel answered.

"Then help us!" Effie appeared suddenly. She had always gotten impatient with too much talk. "We can't have this house destroyed and you can't have us killing more people. You must be able to do something."

And they could.

With our help concealing the security cameras and silencing the alarms, they snuck back onto the property after hours. We used Castiel as a communication conduit and when we found yet another man entering the property with gasoline and matches we alerted him and they called in an anonymous tip that someone was attempting to burn the estate. Rather than kill the man, we detained him until the authorities arrived and took him away.

A week later, the CFO of WIL was brought in for questioning and one of the Mayme descendants themselves took his position. Every once in a while, when the world isn't ending, the Winchesters take a day or two to come visit us. Castiel always brings the best gossip.

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