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kumoriyami-xiuzhen · 4 years

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Hakuoki SSL: Tell me! Secrets Q&A

Last post of the month! so I’ll once again end by asking you to please support me if you can either on ko-fi, through paypal or patreon for access to my blog post translations or just to support me. …. also let me know if you have any hakuoki drama cds that you’d be willing to share that are on my looking for list since i either do not have audio for those cds or do not have audio that i can share...

This is the thing that i left as ???? on my March update post... and the thing that i accidentally posted the title of back in may when i was planning out my queue (oops?).

I think I should start by saying that I translated this for amusement.... though I won't deny how this is a fascinating piece of reference for writing hahaha......

Unfortunately since this is only limited to the main six, I really wish I had some of Yamazaki’s responses to these....

Favourites by character order: Hijikata's answer to Q4, Saito's to Q5, Harada's to Q7 and Kazama's to Q7.

Only for references purposes. LMAO.

enjoy!

Hakuoki SSL: Tell me! Secrets Q&A

From 『B's-LOG別冊オトメイトマガジン vol.9』

Translation by KumoriYami

Q1: What is the first thing you wash when bathing [text can be interpreted as either bath or shower]?

Q2: Where would you want to go for a date?

Q3: At Hakuo Gakuen, who do you have the best relationship with?

Q4: Where do you want to go most now?

Q5: What words and actions/behaviours from a woman make you feel a rush of excitement/moves you ["feel a rush of excitement" is an idiom. can be also interpreted more literally as 'move your heart']/excite you the most?

Q6: What are your favourite school activities [roughly says: fond of school activities]?

Q7: What do you wear while sleeping?

Q8: What are your best and worst subjects?

Q9 What happened recently that made you happy?

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Hijikata Toshizou

A1: Hands should be washed first.

A2: This...... How about going to a Buddhist shine that has snow in its surroundings. We can recite poetry [either that or songs]....... No, I didn't say anything.

A3: Kondou-san.

A4: I don't know why, [but], no matter what happens, I want to see Hokkaido [says reckless/regardless of everything].

A5: Rather than saying affecting the heart, perhaps it might be better to say that [I'm] not good at dealing with a woman staring into my eyes without fear [or something like that...?].

A6: Although it might cause misunderstandings, that would naturally be writing exams [conducting exams to be written...?].

A7: I sleep in Western style pyjamas.

A8: The subject I am good at is classical literature, [and] I'm not good at chemistry.

A9: Probably when I met with that guy who listened to listened to me without getting tired.

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Okita Souji

A1: Hey, after learning about this, what do you plan on doing?

A2: Of course, it needs to be a place where you can go have fun and be happy. That's How about an amusement park, or something like that?

A3:……This question is very difficult to answer. Who knows.

A4: Now? During winter? Oh...... somewhere that isn't cold.

A5: Heheh...... you're probably just wanting to secretly watch me while thinking I haven't found anything out, and of how surprised I'll look when I do.

A6: Club activities.

A7: What will you be wearing? If you want to tell me, I'll tell you after.

A8: I'm actually not particularly good at anything, [but] I dislike classical literature the most.

A9: I saved quite a few pictures of someone recently.

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Saito Hajime

A1: Ah, probably the feet.

A2: Da-date!? Then...... a place to go together with a woman? For me/As far as I'm concerned, as long as we're together, it doesn't mater where we go.

A3: Well, when it concerns time spent on school activities, that would be Yamazaki.

A4: I don't know why [but] I look forward to winter, and would like to see snow as soon as possible....... I want to go to a place where I can see snow.

[Personally, i don't get why people like summer lol. I seriously hate summer. and the heat. Snow is soooo much better than the heat. i absolutely can't stand hot weather lol]

A5: Does this question have to be answered? Really...... then, when she shows/exposes her ear...... Ah.

A6: Probably school trips. It's nice to go learn and study new things in places you wouldn't normally go to.

A7: I personally feel that tight sweatshirts are very good.

A8: I'm good at classical literature, [but] I'm not good at math.

A9: When two equal partners people share their lives...... when you hold your other half's hand, you will immediately feel that you are not alone.

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Toudou Heisuke

A1: If taking a bath/shower....... of course it'd be the head, the head!

A2: Obviously going to the game centre! Eh...... ah, for a date? Then, is going to karaoke OK? [ok is ENG here]

A3: The person that I have the best relationship with, that'd be Souji since we're constantly together. However let me say beforehand, that this doesn't mean I have a good relationship with him.

A4: This period [Right now]...... it'd be nice to participate in a snow festival? I'd like to go somewhere where I can play with snow.

A5: This....... Ah....... Is it that just that I'm defenceless, or was I just relieved..... [to be able to show her my] sleeping face like that? [I think??????????????]

A6: The cultural festival!

A7: Sleeping in a skintight sweatshirt/sports jersey?

A8: Subject that I'm good at, I can fill in the blanks for modern language [i'm assuming this means a version of Japanese characters but since I don't feel like looking it up right now, I'm just going to leave that translation as is for now.] during an exam, but I'm completely unable to understand stuff in English.

A9: Er...... Well...... after being going into that room again after many years...... I found that the inside arrangement/layout had changed a lot so I was surprised. However she was really happy to let me in.

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Harada Sanosuke

A1: Hey. Do you know the common sense of bathing before taking before taking a shower?

A2: Date...... as long as it's the two of us together, it doesn't matter where we go. After she turns 20, there are many places that I'd like to take her to.

A3: Rather than saying that it's a good relationship, it might be accurate to call the relationship with Shinpachi and ill-fated one/ It's not so much a good relationship as a bad one between myself and Shinpachi.

A4: It's rarely winter, I want to go with a country with lots of snow. During the day I'll ski and take a sled/sleigh/bobsled, and in evenings I'll go soak in a spa/hot spring, while also enjoying other foreign culture.

A5: This....... [Seeing] the view of your back while [you're] in the cooking for me in the kitchen.

[the wording in this sentence reaaaaaaally threw me off since it kinda (more literally) reads as "in the kitchen as I cook from behind" ]

A6: All the activities conducted by the school, they're unbelievably exhausting. However, being able to watch how all the students grow and mature, is something to enjoy.

A7: Regardless of what is said...... pyjamas will ultimately become an obstruction. [ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) pfft...]

A8: This, since it's my specialty [referring to subject taught], I'm fast[? and?] good at using my body. Subsequently, I'm not good at every subject that requires lots of thinking.

A9: How can I say this, there's a line that absolutely must not be crossed when I'm together with her...... If I'm not resolute, this line would easily be crossed...... I've been thinking about this lately.

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Kazama Chikage

A1: Bathing......? The first thing to do, shouldn't that be immersing oneself in the bathtub?

A2: First tell me where you want to go. I will bring you there.

A3: This way of describing the relationship is very literal [??? well something like that. either that or something along the lines of: That is a good adjective that literally describes the relationship]. It goes without saying, that would naturally be my wife.

A4: Where my wife and I get married.

A.5 Hesitating while wanting to say something with beautiful and delicate eyes while gazing at my appearance, hahaha......

A6: Of course that would be student council [activities].

[it's either that or student assemblies depending on how the words after ‘student' are interpreted, since if they are translated as verbs instead of noun/adjectives, it can mean something to the effect of 'complete gathering of students'... which is also why im kinda leaning towards 'assemblies' though.]

A7: What is meant by this question? Isn't it common sense to sleep while naked?

A8: I'm an expert at every subject. No subject exists that I am not an expert in.

A9: Fufu....... This year I will surely be able to graduate. I've been waiting for so long...... waiting for far too long!

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this probably felt longer to translate than it actually did lol... too many questions and answers.... also i don’t know if this was reprinted in one of the ssl books. maybe when i’m bored i’ll mtl the jp to double check some of this lol.... or not.

#hakuoki #hakuouki #hakuoki ssl #Hakuoki Other Translation #may edit later

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deanstop13billyjoeltraxx · 3 years

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Superposition

a deancas college roommate AU

Chapter 4 is up on AO3! (Chapter-by-chapter masterlist here.)

They’re Gonna Love You

Three Years Earlier

Cas was terrible at making friends.

He really was trying his best — he spoke up in class whenever he could, he talked to his seatmates when it was appropriate. And that was fine, everyone was perfectly nice to him. But he couldn’t figure out what exactly he was supposed to say to make himself less “that one guy from accounting” and more “Cas Novak.” So, he was three weeks into college with nothing to show for it.

Nothing, save his roommate.

Unlike Castiel, Dean had already found a group of friends from their floor. He was hardly ever in their room. Cas didn’t mind so much; it gave him space to focus on his homework, which already felt overwhelming and never-ending. But every day, like clockwork, Dean was back by seven, and he dragged Cas away from his computer and into the dining hall with him.

Castiel had to admit that dinner was the best part of his day. Dean rarely failed to take his mind off of the dangerously constant spiral of social anxiety and school-related stress. Cas learned that Dean moved constantly because of his father’s job, that his brother, Sam, was “a textbook nerd,” that Dean’s guilty pleasure was Grey’s Anatomy (“Don’t look at me like that, Patrick Dempsey is in it”), that he loved pie probably more than anyone should be allowed to. And Castiel told Dean things, too, things he’d never had the luxury of sharing; how he decided to be a writer after reading The Great Gatsby for the first time, that his attending college had made him the black sheep of the family, how he had never lost a game of Trivial Pursuit (“Is that a friggin’ challenge, Cas?”).

They had occasionally eaten with Dean’s friends from the dorms, most often on Fridays when the group was heading to a party afterward. That is, until Castiel brought a copy of Pride and Prejudice to the table to read before his next literature class, and Cole Martin asked him if he was gay with a smirk. The table had gone silent; Cas just looked at him, heat flaming across his face; Dean was staring daggers. Cole, refusing to get the message, prodded for a response, at which point Dean asked if he could talk to him for a minute.

Dean didn’t speak to Cole again after that.

He apologized to Cas profusely on Cole’s behalf, the “sorry’s” punctuated by assurances that it was great if Castiel was indeed gay, that Dean didn’t care, that Cas was Cas. But even if he was curious, Dean never asked the question. And that was good, because Cas wasn’t quite ready to have that conversation, seeing as coming out to Bartholomew during his senior year had led to six months of no-contact. Instead, Cas just informed Dean that he was accustomed to the treatment by now, that bringing Twilight to school his freshman year placed him solidly in the “insert homophobic-slur here” category, according to his peers. This only partly fixed the issue, because while Dean stopped apologizing, he started on a tirade against Castiel’s high school demons.

Cas had never had anyone care enough to stand up for him. He thought he was very lucky to have Dean Winchester as a roommate

It was Thursday, and Castiel was agonizing over a problem set for accounting when Dean walked in.

“All right, Einstein, let’s go,” he announced, dumping his backpack next to his desk. “Dinner time.”

“Give me a minute,” Cas muttered.

Dean moved over to Cas’ desk and leaned over his shoulder.

“Damn,” he said. “You really are a genius. I don’t know what any of this shit means.”

“Save your accolades for when I pass the class,” Cas said, sighing.

“You’ll pass, but not if you die from starvation first.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “I think you’re projecting.”

“Maybe I am,” Dean said, shrugging. “But you still need to eat.”

“All right. I’m coming.”

The pair walked to the dining hall, Dean explaining the details of the party he was attending the following night, how he hoped the girl from his English class would be there. Cas never had much to add to these types of conversations, but he typically tried to remain engaged. Tonight, he just uttered monosyllabic responses when it seemed appropriate.

Cas couldn’t stop thinking about how alone he had become. The novelty of college had worn off; all Cas could see now was how many hours he spent in solitude. He couldn’t help but feel as though he was doomed for a repeat of high school. The interaction with Cole certainly didn’t help matters, and though Dean was a great friend, Cas couldn’t escape the feeling that everything he did was out of pity.

“Okay, dude, what’s up?” Dean asked.

“What?”

“You’re acting all weird. Kinda mopey,” Dean explained with a mouthful of pizza.

“Oh,” Cas said. “I apologize. It wasn’t intentional. I just…”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“I’ve just been distracted tonight.”

��By what?”

Cas gave Dean a look. “It’s not important.”

Dean opened his mouth to argue, but Cas interrupted him, changing the subject.

“How are your classes?”

Dean shrugged. “Eh. Whatever. I don’t pay attention much.”

“Have you thought about what you’re going to major in?”

“Wish I was smart enough for engineering, but… Nah, I haven’t figured that out yet.”

“Dean,” Cas said. “I’m sure you’re smart enough for anything you want to study.”

Dean chuckled. “Appreciate that, Cas, but definitely not.”

Cas eyed his friend a moment, but didn’t say anything else.

“Hey, you know the party I was telling you about?” Dean said after a moment of silence. “You should come. It’ll be fun.”

Castiel nearly choked on his chicken strips. There was only one thing that would make Dean invite him to a party. The thought of Dean feeling that bad for Cas made him want to become one with the floor. Not to mention the idea of attempting that level of social interaction was enough to send him into a tailspin.

“That’s very kind, but I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Cas said. “I’m not much for parties.”

“Oh come on, Cas. You’ve never even tried it!”

“I understand the general idea.”

“Man, it’s the experience.”

“Dean, I’m not going to a frat party. I have enough to worry about with my classes. Besides,” Cas looked away, refusing to meet Dean’s eyes. “I’m not… particularly adept at social interactions.”

“What?” Dean exclaimed. “Dude, you’re awesome. You do fine with me!”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“I don’t know,” Cas sighed. “You tend to do most of the talking. It saves me from ruining things.”

Dean just looked at him. “Ruining things?”

“I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly your typical college student.”

Dean laughed. “Well, I mean, no, but that doesn’t ruin things. Plus, I can guarantee that every girl at that party would be all over you. Most of the guys, too, probably. You’ve got the sexy nerd thing going on.”

Cas blushed profusely. “That’s irrelevant. The point is, I’m not going.”

Dean sighed, long-suffering. “Fine. I give up. For now.”

Cas let out a breath of relief.

They finished dinner and headed back to their dorm. Dean asked what class Castiel liked the most, which led to Cas gushing about creative writing for ten minutes. Dean graciously humored him, and when Cas apologized abashedly, Dean punched him in the shoulder and told him to shut up.

When they got back to their room, Dean put on another record (Wish You Were Here, by Pink Floyd, Cas was informed) and left to take a shower. Cas finished his problem set with “Have a Cigar” in the background, grateful for the distraction from his earlier thoughts. That was the one good thing about his double-major — he truly did not have time to ruminate on his problems.

Dean returned to work on an English essay, talking to himself the entire time. Cas did his best not to laugh at the muttered “what the hell am I even trying to say” and “I can’t use ‘demonstrates’ again.”

Hours later, after trying, and failing, to read ahead for philosophy, Cas resigned himself to his bed for the night.

“Tired?” Dean asked from his desk.

“Yes,” Cas said, throwing off his t-shirt and getting in bed. “But you can leave the light on if you have more work to do. I’ll fall asleep eventually.”

“Nah, I’m tired too.”

Dean flipped the lights off and climbed in his own bed. Cas closed his eyes against the quiet blackness.

“Cas?”

“Yes?”

“Are you all right? Level with me, man.”

Cas sighed. He supposed this conversation would happen sooner or later, if this friendship was to continue. “I’ve never had many friends,” he said. “I told you, after Cole, about the comments regarding my sexuality?” Dean made a grunt in understanding. “Well, it didn’t help that I was homeschooled until I was fourteen. I was what I believe is called ‘the weird kid.’”

Dean snorted. “You? Weird? Never.”

Cas rolled his eyes in the darkness. “I’m serious. I just don’t want to be the ‘weird kid’ again, I suppose. I believed college would be my second chance, but it’s beginning to feel like a bad sequel.”

“Dude,” Dean said, “you have me. And Benny and Charlie like you, too. If you just went out more —”

“I’m not sure I want my friendships to be predicated on underage drinking,” Cas replied, and cringed at the way it sounded. When Dean didn’t respond, he added, “I just mean… I want people to like me, not my drunken antics.”

“Right,” Dean mumbled. Then, “What was homeschool like?”

Cas furrowed his brow at the change in subject, but humored Dean, anyway. “Terrible. My father attempted to teach all five of us on his own. It was mostly history and religion, which, coming from him, meant racism, fire, and brimstone. He had this grand plan for me, and for my brothers, to become pastors.” Castiel paused. “I had to sneak out to the library with Anna just to teach myself basic algebra.” Another pause, a breath. “Anna kept me sane most days. She was more of a mother than a sister.” I miss her.

“Where was your mom?” Dean asked.

“Not sure,” Cas said. “We were all adopted as children. My father never took a wife, and I never knew my real parents. I asked my father about them once. He told me they died ages ago.”

“Shit, I’m sorry, Cas.”

“It’s okay.”

“That makes more sense,” Dean said after a moment. “I was wondering why none of y’all looked alike.”

“I probably should have explained that earlier. I forget it isn’t common knowledge,” Cas replied.

Dean was quiet for a long time, so long that Cas suspected he may have fallen asleep. Cas was about to follow suit when Dean said, quietly, “Sometimes I was the weird kid, too.”

Castiel snapped his eyes open at that. It seemed unbelievable to him that Dean Winchester could be disliked by anyone. “What?”

“Yeah,” Dean mumbled. “Always moving, you know. Sometimes, people liked me. Sometimes, they really fucking hated me. It sucks, you know.”

“I do.”

tagging @nguyenxtrang :)

#destiel #deancas #supernatural #superposition #destiel fic

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newcaptainofsquad9 · 4 years

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Overlay Me In Your Heart~Park Jimin x black! fem! reader {1}

Summary: After embarrassing yourself at your local arcade in front of popular, dance major (not to mention your school girl crush) Park Jimin, you seek advice on how to approach him, which is more than encouraged by your friends. Little did you know that Instagram would be the gateway, however once Jimin follows back, you can’t help but freeze at the realization. Can you manage to break through the constant filters and say-sos about Jimin to get to see him as a genuine person? And as a potential friend and eventual lover?

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy, College AU, Slice of life, Smut(in later parts)

Word Count: 1, 839

Author’s Note: More Jimin because why not? (I know I’m biased) Also! My other Jimin fic, Mr. Flirt is on hiatus at the moment, I’m sorry if any of you guys really wanted me to continue that, I’m not really getting anything out of that fic at the moment. If you guys have any BTS or EXO requests send them my way! Hope ya’ll enjoy!

The first time I saw Jimin I thought he wasn’t real, like he was a model that stepped from the pages of Vogue. He doesn’t model, at least that’s what his best friend, Kim Taehyung told me when I asked him one afternoon in our Literature class. I wanted to ask him more about Jimin, yet I held back and saved it for Jungkook, who lives in the same building as I do and goes to Purple Bullet Arcade during the weekend too. That’s where I first saw Jimin, then and there as I lost all function: my eyes remained on his silver hair, white leather jacket, designer shirt and dark jeans that brought out the toned definition of his muscles extremely well.

The Tekken round I was in the middle of was over once my attention got captured, leading Jungkook to make a comeback from his magic pixel of life. His guttural cry of victory broke me from my hypnotic fixation as both my eyes along with Jimin’s traveled over.

“Finally!” Jungkook roared, “I beat you!”

I frowned as he continued to jump with glee, dancing like a goof without a care in the world. He stopped abruptly, eyes moved past me once I felt someone’s presence behind me.

“Hey Jimin!” he greeted.

I turned, met Jimin’s smoldering dark brown eyes and froze.

“Hey Kook,” he said, “you must be the one he beat, ah?”

“Ah, I’m I-I’m Y/N,” I said, “s-sorry I gotta go!”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Real smooth,” my best friend Denise says, “why’d you scurry out like a mouse?”

I cast my eyes down as I take in a sip of my vanilla latte. Magic Bean Cafe on campus makes the best, and it isn’t crowded on Fridays when Denise and I catch up. We also get to talk as loud as we want without anyone throwing looks our way, which is quite liberating especially after an 11 a.m lit class.

“Um, you didn’t answer my question,” Denise presses as she leans across the table with a serious eye, “why were you so scary with Jimin?”

“Why wouldn’t I have been scared?” I counter, “Jimin is super intimating, he’s crazy gorgeous, popular as hell and he’s got like over a thousand followers, right?”

Denise shakes her head.

“Try half a mill and counting,” she says, “did you know he used to dance professionally in Busan before transferring here?”

“No,” I groan, “telling me that won’t help me.”

“Uh, yeah it will dude,” Denise notes, “most of his classes are in the liberal arts building and that’s where yours is as well so talk to him.”

I narrow my eyes at her. Did she not just hear what the hell just happened when I encountered him at the arcade?

“That’s easier said than done,” I say.

“Look, Jimin is super nice and I think you guys would hit it off,” she says, “Jin’s friends with him, along with Namjoon.”

Hearing her mention Jin makes me change the subject swiftly.

“Jin eh?” I ask, “so how have things been with Jin, you guys make it official or what?”

Denise scrambles a bit in her chair, attempting to play with her blue streaked braids as she struggles to find the words.

“We’re uh-”

She’s cut off by a sudden noise.

“Your cheesy stuffed pretzel is ready!”

We both turn toward the counter of the coffee shop to see Jin in his well fitted white chefs apron and hat, posed elegantly on top of the counter with a plate that holds the said cheesy stuffed pretzel.

I turn back to Denise who already has her head down on the table. Jin steps over to us with a model waiter stance: standing posed with his chin up and arm around his back.

“Hey Y/N,” he greets before turning back to Denise, “your snack Jagiya.”

I raise an eyebrow at the pet name.

“Jagiya, huh?”

Denise raises her head back up.

“Yeah we are official,” she says, “kinda.”

Jin frowns.

“Kinda?” he asks.

Denise changes her tune quickly at Jin’s saddened tone.

“We are, we are,” she reassures, “it’s just a little embarrassing how you spoil me sometimes.”

“That’s because I want to,” he says, “now eat your pretzel Jagi.”

Denise rips off a piece prior to nudging the plate toward me.

“Want a piece?” she asks.

I start to nod, yet Jin cuts me off.

“I can get her one! That one is for you to enjoy!” he scolds.

Denise rolls her eyes.

“Jin, if you don’t.”

I chuckle at their apparent lovers quarrel.

“Should I leave before the both of you start making out?” I joke.

“No, wait!” Denise urges, “now that we got Jin here, he can tell you that Jimin is totally cool, right?”

I look to Jin who nods as he pulls up a chair to sit next to Denise.

“Yeah, he’ll like you Y/N, you’re cool,” he explains, “wait, did you tell her about his Instagram?”

I grit my teeth as Denise nods.

“Yeah, what of it?”

“I wouldn’t go too much into that when you first talk to him,” Jin says, “he says a lot of American women are stunned by his amazing filters or whatever, I don’t know it word for word, but just try breaking the ice with something else!”

“Ok,” I say, “what would you suggest?”

Jin tilts his head.

“Maybe dance?” he suggests, “that’s what he’s studying-”

“Or!” Denise growls, interrupting Jin, “you could be yourself and talk about gaming, take him to the Purple Bullet Arcade! You’re always there with Jungkook.”

“Yeah, but how would I know if I’m Jimin’s type?” I ask.

Jin tilts his head in confusion.

“Eh! I already said he’ll probably like you!” he groans.

Denise nudges him in the ribs.

“Not what she meant,” she says, “she means black girls like us.”

Jin’s eyes widens but nods. It seems like that already had some sort of talk. Good.

“Look Y/N, Taehyung always hangs out with the black frat guys and I think he dated a girl from the Step team,” she notes, “and Namjoon practically can’t keep his eyes away from the black women on this campus and I’m sure Jungkook-”

“Ok, I get it!” I say, “that’s Jimin’s company, but what about him?”

“I can’t tell for sure,” she says, “but the best thing to do would be to talk to him.”

I can only nod as the words get hammered into my head.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Denise’s words, along with Jimin didn’t leave my mind as I sprawled over my messy, paper infested bed. I’m supposed to be reading Pride and Prejudice for my literature class, yet here I am scrolling through Instagram and absentmindedly liking my friend’s posts.

Jungkook’s recent photo, he’s in front of the Purple Bullet Arcade.He’s dressed in a black hoodie and a beanie with the with one of his sleeves rolled up to show off his impressive muscle. The caption under the picture read: never skip biceps day or half off tokens day at the Purple Bullet Arcade! I mentally roll my eyes, but he’s shouting out the arcade. I got to like for that.

Namjoon’s photo comes next, he’s in a green cardigan with his glasses hanging on the edge of his nose and an open book in front of him. It looks like he’s in the Magic Bean Cafe. Of Course Jin would allow Namjoon to use it as his personal photo-shooting area, being that his parents founded the cafe and that they’re close friends. The caption under Namjoon’s picture read: finals are coming up guys don’t get too caffeinated and keep your heads in your textbooks! At this point Namjoon is just asking to get roasted. That’s exactly what Yoongi did, another mutual friend of me and Denise.

His response was: no body looks that clean cut while studying, please take your prep school lookin ass back to the library!

It’s difficult not to hold in the laughter as my finger presses the heart to like the comment along with the post. For a good roast and roasting material. I continue to scroll until find Taehyung’s recent post and freeze.

Taehyung looked flawless as always in his Gucci shirt and black slacks, yet he’s not alone in this one. He’s pictured with his arms around Jimin and Hoseok, both of them wearing baggy sweats and hats with matching logos. The caption under it read: just watched my bestie and his amazing dance partner practice, they’re gonna own this performance next month!

I like it, of course, along with Hoseok’s comment with hearts and Jimin’s own with multiple smiley faces. My fingers don’t continue my pattern of scrolling however as my thumb hovers over Jimin’s username: ParkJimin_95.

I know Jin said not to bring up Instagram, but he didn’t say not to look at it when I’m alone. I click on his page before I over think it, instantly regretting soon after.

I remain on his page a bit longer than I expected, fascinated by how stunning he is. The most recent pictures of him has him sporting his familiar silver hair, but his older pictures show him with various different colors: blue, pink, red, orange and black with different filters as well. I quickly scroll back, my heart skipping a beat once I realized that I accidentally followed him. Shit.

I go to close the app, yet someone’s typing at me. My panic clears a bit once I realize it’s Namjoon.

Namjoon: Get off instagram and study!

I roll my eyes.

Me: I was taking a break Joon.

Namjoon’s typing again.

Namjoon: Oh ok, don’t stay on here too long!

Who’s mother does he think he is? No, I shouldn’t roast him, Yoongi already did that for me. Instead I answer back calmly.

Me: Sure mom!

Namjoon doesn’t respond back, good. Another notification pops up for me however and I click to see what it is.

The notification read: ParkJimin_95 started following you.

My thumb immediately finds the home button before I place my phone back onto my bed with it’s screen face down. Jimin, Park Jimin just followed me back. Maybe Namjoon is right, I should get back to studying.

Just looking at Jane Austen’s bored expression on the back of my novel doesn’t get my brain’s wheels turning back towards the productive. Instead I gather up my phone again, it lit it up more Instagram messages: one from Jimin and one from Namjoon.

I ignore the one from Namjoon for now, because I don’t have time to be scolded and peek at the one Jimin sent me.

Jimin: Hey! I remember you from the arcade! So, you’re the infamous Y/N that beat Jungkook all the time.

I stare at the message for a moment, carefully put my phone into sleep mode and not open the message fully to leave him on read.

Maybe Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy can help me get my mind straight after all, cause I can’t seem to respond. At least not right now.

Fin~Part I

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lovelyirony · 6 years

Text

Up Two Squares

a continuation of the Crminal Au

Steve Rogers was a simple man. He woke up at six, went for a run, drank coffee, got dressed, and then headed to the office. Sure, there were slight changes to his schedule. Getting a criminal to talk in an empty warehouse, posing as “Captain,” and scaring the shit out of the criminal underworld. There’s also the fact that he’s hunting Iron Man. But still. Steve’s a simple man.

Simplicity is underrated, he thinks. People think you need to have all these fancy, elaborate plans. You really don’t. You smile at someone, say a different name, wear slightly different jeans. It’s simple. It gets the job done. You stick to your story and don’t get caught up in everything around you.

Iron Man is flashy. One will know when Iron Man steals, because no one will have seen it. In Steve’s opinion, that’s bound to get you caught. Let one or two people see you, then disappear. So dramatic to disappear first.

Black Widow--Nat--says that Iron Man has up and left the upper area of New York.

“You chased him off,” she says. “You’re too simple. You need to think of getting him quietly.”

“I am,” Steve says. “Lay low, attack later.” Nat rolls her eyes.

“You have the same strategy, how are you so sure it’ll work?” Steve grins, showing her a text message of Bucky holding a thumbs-up sign.

“Because I have him.” Natasha just stares.

“He agreed. That fucker actually agreed to help you?”

“He owes me,” Steve says easily. “I helped him move into his apartment, get out the odd wire or person. So I asked him to help me catch Iron Man.”

“And why do you need me, again?” she asks.

“Because you are stealthy in ways I cannot be,” Steve says. “You know where people go, you know how to get them to talk.”

“So really, you just need me because I don’t have a temper and kick first, ask questions later,” she suggests. Steve glares at her. “Nice to know I’m right. Again.” He rolls his eyes. She’s difficult, as always.

There’s a thump on the wall, probably from someone putting a chair down. Or falling.

“New neighbor?” Natasha says. Steve nods.

“Tony Carbonell. Just moved here, works in IT. Quiet guy.”

“Cute guy?”

“Given as you’re a lesbian and taken, I have a hard time seeing why you’d care,” Steve remarks. She rolls her eyes.

“You’re so smart Rogers, how do you do it? No, dumbass, for you. You’re lonely. You eat frozen dinners and watch Antiques Roadshow. Sharon has cried because of your lifestyle. You don’t even wear fun socks!”

“I have fun socks,” Steve defends. “The ones that she gave me. With the, ah, stripes?” Natasha mimes banging her head against a wall.

“I hate you so much. You should ask him out.”

“He’s my neighbor. If this ends badly, then I have to schedule out when to go to the elevator, when he leaves for work so we don’t run into each other, and I can’t ask him for sugar.”

“You can’t cook anything that has taste, what the hell would you need sugar for?” Natasha asks with a grin.

“Go do your job,” Steve snaps. “I’m not paying you to make fun of me in my own apartment.” Natasha shrugs, gives him a kiss on the cheek, and leaves. Steve almost hates her.

He goes out for a run. Which is not so much a run as an interrogation, because Bucky says he might have someone.

Tony’s in the hallway. “Hey,” he says casually. Steve notices that Tony has a nice taste in shirts. The one he’s wearing is dark red, fits well, and Steve Shouldn’t Notice Any of That.

“Hello,” Steve says. “How are you today?” Tony shrugs.

“Eh, doing okay. Moving in always takes the energy out of you. Now I’m going shopping.”

“There’s a nice store up a couple blocks if you go left,” Steve says. “I’m going on a run, haven’t been on one in a while.”

“Oh yeah, I can tell,” Tony says with a snort. “The way you just...let yourself go like that. Six pack instead of an eight pack.” Steve turns red.

“Yeah....sure. That’s me.”

The elevator ride down is awkward. Tony doesn’t speak. Neither does Steve. The latter hates himself a bit more because there are so many things he could talk about, but there are Rules with Neighbors. You don’t ask them more than you want to know, and Steve has to go do something, so he really doesn’t want to talk for fifteen minutes, if that would happen.

He gets to the main floor, waves bye, and bolts. (He doesn’t notice that Tony doesn’t turn left.)

“Hey punk,” Bucky says when Steve walks into the building. He feels a bit weird, because they’re in an office building, and Steve said hello to the secretary, who giggled and said that “Mr. Buchanan is in room 352, the fourth floor,” and now they are Here.

“Swanky place,” Steve remarks. “Who’s our client?” The client, in question, is a man. Lithe, well-built, but not as strong as Steve. People rarely are.

“This guy is one of Iron Man’s clients who squealed,” Bucky says. “Great for us, not so great for you, Samuel. Or do you prefer Sam? Sammy? A last name?” The client looks terrified, which isn’t really surprising. Steve takes a seat across from him in an office chair that has excellent lumbar support--totally stealing for his actual office--and stares.

“I need information on Iron Man, Samuel. And you’re gonna give it to me.”

“I-I don’t know anything,” the man says. Truth. He’s terrified. “I just wanted the painting back in the museum, away from the private collection of that asshole, Hammer, and so I-I contacted him.”

“How did you contact him?” Bucky asks. “Email? Chat room? Tinder?”

“Shut up,” Steve says. “This ain’t a joke, jerk.”

“Deep web,” Samuel replies. “Word on the street is that he’s a tech wizard. He sees everything, knows everyone. He contacted me on an encrypted message that took me a week to solve. My computer fried after the mission was done.”

“Brutal,” Steve says. “Any idea where on the deep web to go?”

“N-no. I just...there’s a forum. For art people, like me. None of that shady shit that they have. I posted a message, waited. He chooses who he works for, you can’t directly ask him.” Bucky curses.

“Well, this sucks!” He announces. Steve and Bucky step over to the side.

“Wanna try drawing him out?” Bucky asks. “Could be worth a shot.”

“No,” Steve says. “I want to find him, not get him to steal something for me that I can’t afford the price of. We need people who know him. We need to find out where the hell he was when he was in Manhattan.”

They turn towards Samuel. “Thanks so much for your help,” Steve gushes. “Really, a great honor to get to know some things. Unfortunately, you know both our faces now, so we’ll be sending you elsewhere.”

“I’m gonna die?” Samuel asks. He looks panicked, like a deer in the headlights. All things considered, it’s kind of funny to Steve.

“Nah,” Bucky says. “But you’re gonna wish you were. We’re sending you on a little exchange program. You’re going to be studying Russian literature for the next five years. Hope you like vodka!”

They leave.

“Is that a new shirt?” Steve asks Bucky. “It looks new, mainly because you wouldn’t ever wear it. Looks nice.”

“What, you’re saying I never pick out nice things?”

“Clothing-wise? Nah.” Bucky shoves him.

“You’re such a jerk. Look, I’ll catch you tomorrow, okay? After work? I’d do it tomorrow, but me an’ Sam have a date...I’m gonna kick his ass in pool.” Steve just laughs.

“Sure thing, Buck. Text me when you lose.” Bucky flips him off, but gets into a taxi. Steve actually starts running. That’s the thing: you need to hold up to your end of the backstory you have given someone.

By the time he gets home, Tony is unlocking his door. He has some groceries and four things of coffee.

“Hey,” Tony says. “See you later?” Then he slips into his apartment, and Steve is left to grapple with the fact that he still has no idea who Iron Man is, and ain’t that a kick in the head?

#criminal au #lovelyirony writes #tony stark #stony #steve rogers

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kitsukyouno · 5 years

Photo

Chapter 1:

Mostly an introduction to the characters. Ako is an honest and bit stand-offish girl. She dresses like a yankee but isn't trying to intimidate anyone. She is bad with people that get too close too quickly. Ako is disinterested and distant, isn't very friendly with anyone other than a couple people. Her best friend is Ramo Marusa. Ramo is called Maru-san by their classmates. Ako came up with that nickname. But when the other kids started to use it she stopped. She felt jealous of them. Ako likes Ramo romantically. She goes on to talk about how Ramo is a pretty girl that's also smart, sociable and intelligent. Ramo is also in the dance club and the student council committee. But she still has time to hang out with Ako. Ramo has bags under her eyes, Ako thinks they're from sleep deprivation.

Chapter 2:

Ako is invited to a tea party at Class D. Ako thinks they're super-lame judgmental girls, but she still goes because she was invited by Ramo. It's after school, so the class is empty other than the girls and a male student playing a videogame. The male student is short and small and has a boyish face. One of the D class girls invites the guy to sits close to them. Ramo starts talking to the guy and Ako feels jealous. One of the D class girls had brought a spicy super sauce. Everyone is afraid of trying it except for the guy, who eats it nonchalantly on a chip. Ako feels that it is a challenge and also eats it on a chip. Her face turns red and her tongue is on fire. She tries drinking tea but the tea is hot and makes everything worse. Ako goes running out of the classroom all the way to the water faucets (the water fountain was out of order). She tries to drink upside down and water comes out of her nose. Ako stars crying and she thinks that it's better for her to return home. However, she forgot her phone in the classroom. Ramo arrives with her phone and asks her if she is fine. Ako says that they should be dating, but Ramo replies that sure, if she can turn into a guy. Ako smiles melancholic and they return to the classroom together. The D class girls were worried about Ako.

Chapter 3:

Ako invites Ramo to Starbucks so they can do their physics homework, even if it's basically Ramo explaining things to Ako like a teacher. Ako says that they should go to Disney Sea together. After the school festival in October, their class will go to Disney Land. Ako already went to Disney Land. Ramo agrees, but she will need to clean up her schedule. Ramo stares at her schedule, having a hard time to find space. Ako feels a bit awkward, but they eventually agree on a date and she goes home feeling happy. Later that week, on Sunday, Ako is being lazy in her room. She is supposed to be studying but is fooling around on her phone. At school, she wears contacts, but she actually needs glasses so she is wearing them now. Her mom sends her to buy kitchen paper and a bag of ice at the Ultra 7 store. Ako complies and goes to the Ultra 7. Everything seems to be going fine until she sees Ramo on the other side of the street. She can't believe her eyes, not because it's Ramo but due to the circumstances. First, Ramo was with an older man that seemed to be the age of Ako's father. He was smaller than her. The man tried to grab Ramo's hands, and Ramo shakes him off. However, she doesn't leave and keeps talking with him. They leave heading towards the same direction. Ramo is also wearing a school uniform that Ako doesn't recognize. Besides, Ramo had told Ako that she was going to be busy with practice that day. Ako couldn't move and the ice bag that she was carrying melts.

Chapter 4:

Things are awkward the next day at school. Ako feels that Ramo is more distant than usual. During the literature class, Ramo falls asleep. That has never happened before. Ako wonders what the reason is and feels pain in her chest. As the day passes, Ako starts noticing that Ramo is doing more "non-Ramo-like" things, such as not taking notes in classes, getting scolded by upperclassmen and not answering requests from the student council. Ako wonders if she truly knows Ramo. In their next break period, Ako walks up to Ramo and pushes her head down. She thinks about how Ramo lied to her, skipped dance classes, was hanging out with an older man and wearing a uniform from a different school. Ramo says that it hurts and Ako stops, thinking to herself that she is the one hurting.

Chapter 5:

Ako avoids Ramo the next day. She starts thinking about many things, feeling depressed. She sees an advertisement for the Olympics. Where will she be in 2020? Where will Ramo be in 2020? She decides to leave school by the parking lot instead of the front entrance. She looks at the fields and saw students going to do do sports and other activities behind the fence, they look like zoo animals. There, she sees a boy that talks to Ramo about shogi. He seems to have trouble with his bike. The chain needs to be arranged. Ako stares at him, his hands are dirty with oil and probably needs help. The guy calls to her, Ako tries to ignore him. Why should she help him? What if she gets all dirty with oil herself. The guy calls to her again. Ako sighs and walks over to him. She helps him by holding the chain, his hands are dirtied with oil. They walk back to school to wash their hands. While walking, he asks if she is a friend of Maru. Ako is surprised he knows her name. She says that she and Ramo are part of a shogi group. "Maru-san has decided to live with her mom." He says. Ako is perplexed. The guy explains, Ramo's parents got divorced. She had been living with her father and his lover plus her daughter for the time being. She doesn't get along with her mother. However, she can't stand her father's lover anymore so she is going to stay with her mother. In the end, Ramo can't really deal with either parent so that's the reason she spends so much time at school or studying. Her money comes from working a long term part-time job. Ako wonders if Ramo has been using that money to accompany her to Starbucks or go to Disney Sea. "Ramo isn't that kind of person at all!" Ako replies to the revelations. The guy looks at her with a surprised expression. "You're the kind of person that judges people by appearances, aren't you?" Ako is shocked by his words.

Chapter 6:

The guy tells her to ask Maru-san about her job, thanks her and leaves. Ako starts walking back to the school. She realizes that she has been doing what she hates the most, labeling people based on how they look. Like the D class girls and the guy. And even her "beloved Ramo." Ako tries to wash her hands over and over again, but the oil just won't come out. She looks out of the window and sees Ramo through the windows of the next building. Desperately, Ako runs to meet her. When she gets there, she notices that Ramo is wearing her practice uniform. Long black shorts and a white shirt. "I forgot to give these notebook to the upperclassmen, so I came to get it from my locker." Ramo says, with a smile. Ako can barely even breathe, she grabs Ramo's hands tightly and drags her away. They walk all the way to the first floor, Ramo follows Ako without putting up any resistance. Ako is finally calming down, she lets go of Ramo and buys a cold drink. She drinks quickly. Ramo waits until she is done to ask what's going on. Hearing Ramo's voice, Ako feels like crying. "Ramo, I saw you near my house yesterday, wearing the uniform of a school I didn't recognize." She said. Ramo explains that it is her older sister's uniform and she borrowed it. She wears the uniform to not get in trouble with the school for working at a shogi cafe. In that kind of cafe, people go to play shogi with pretty girls. It's not a bad job, but it's not exactly normal. So Ramo decided to hide it. However, she shrugs and says she already quick that job because her father found out about it. Ako finally realizes that Ramo was actually a more rebellious girl than her. Finally, Ako comments "Your father is pretty short, isn't he?" Ramo laughs and replies "Yep, he's tiny." Ako also starts laughing.

Chapter 7:

It stars raining heavily, so they run to a nearby roof. Ramo skips her dance practice. Ramo tells Ako that they probably won't let her participate in the school festival like this. Ako asks Ramo why she joined the dance club. Ramo replies because she likes it. Ako smiles and says that Ramo is still Ramo, after all. Ramo wonders what she was talking about. "Ramo, it's fine if you don't want to go to Disney Sea." Ako says. "Eh? Why? We already said that we would go, Ako!" Ramo replies. Ako doesn't want to force Ramo to do something she doesn't want to do, but Ramo reassures her that she is looking forward to going with her. Ramo reaches out her hand forward to feel the rain. Ako stares and repeats to herself that Ramo is indeed beautiful. Ramo places her wet hand next to Ako and turns to face her, starting at Ako's eyes. "You know, those contacts really don't suit you." Ako notices that Ramo had also been paying attention to her, nobody at school knew that she wore contacts. Ako places her hand on Ramo's. The oil on Ako's fingertips and the rainwater in Ramos' mixes together.

Note that when Ramo say she will date Ako if she was a guy is good for yuri because they make a cafe with the student with reverse roll like girls dressing as guys.

#SSSS Gridman

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muva--milaje-blog · 6 years

Text

librarian.

t'challa x black!reader (college au)

an: this was requested by @xclusvnani. thank you so much for requesting this. had a lot of fun writing this.

reader takes a trip to the library everyday just to see the handsome librarian t’challa.

warnings: fluff, sexual mentions, mentions death

"Y/N, you need a break, baby." Your mother, on the other end of this telephone conversation, pleads with you. Her naturally worrisome spirit coupled with her missing you and needing her only child around her is the basis for her call. Life just had not been the same for your mother since the death of your grandparents. "I am so proud of you. And, I know that you are taking those classes this summer so that you can graduate a semester early but I think you should come home. Even if it is for a weekend."

This is not, and will not, be the last time you hear your mother pleading for you to come home. The drive home from the college campus is approximately three hours. Not too long of a drive. However, you are on a mission to graduate from undergrad as soon as possible and get your Bachelor's degree. You welcome the calls from your mother daily. You miss her just as much as she misses you. You two have an extremely close relationship because it has always been just the two of you (and your grandparents). The ass that is supposedly your father skipped out before you were born. Your mother raised you as best as she could in that small ass two bedroom apartment in your hometown. As small as the apartment is, it is home. She worked a couple of jobs just to help you get to where you are now. The first couple of semesters, your tuition was paid for in full due to your mother's dedicated work ethic. It is only right that you work just as hard in your college classes.

"Mommy, I know...thank you, but I know." You assure her. Most of the time, you wish you were somewhere else. Rather than living on campus during the boring Summer semester and taking three classes, you'd rather be somewhere tropical, festive, and surrounded by your girls. Hell, at this point, you would take your childhood bedroom as a vacation spot. "Classes are almost over in July, then I'll be home. Just me and you, the couch, and our favorite movies." Your faves included almost every movie with Angela Bassett.

Your mother practically squealed and sighed in delight at the idea. She wanted to further your daily phone conversation but you told her that you had to go. You were heading to your college's library, your favorite spot at this school. You told her you loved her and hung up right before you walked in, pass the metal detectors, and straight to your regular location: the second floor. Due to the lack of students on campus for the summer, you knew that your regular spot would be available. There was a small nook on the library's second floor that included a couch, two chairs, and a coffee table. It is your hideaway from the rest of the library. You like to read, study, and write in that area. Also, it's where you can usually locate the man of your dreams as your friend Brie likes to refer to him as. As much as you do not want to admit to yourself and your friends, he is another reason you frequent the library.

You noticed him last Fall. He was following around one of the librarians, taking in information and nodding profusely. From what you could tell, he was eager to learn. Whenever he had a question or concern, he pressed his lips tightly together, quirked his eyebrows, and squinted his eyes. Whenever he learned something new, he nodded his head and smiled. It is a sexy, crooked smile. Of course, you know all of this because in between your reading, studying, and writing, you watch him. You noticed him way before he noticed you. You were sitting at your favorite spot when he breezed pass you with several books in his arms.

"Hello," He said to you. You looked upward at him from your position on the couch and nearly melted into a puddle that matched the one that was growing in between your thighs just at the sight of him. That accent, the way he said hello, you were taken aback. You were loss for words. He seemed to wait for you to say hello before he walked away.

"Hi," Your voice squeeked. You were immediately embarrassed. He did not laugh at you like you thought he would, he just smiled at you before walking away. You wanted to creep into a corner and disappear.

He would come over and say hello to you whenever he saw you. After the fifth time, he finally came over to you to say more than just a hello. But you couldn't hear him. You were listening to sweet R&B love songs of the 90s and 2000s through your earphones. Toni Braxton was making you miss a lover you never had when you felt a tap on your shoulder. It was him, Mr. Librarian, a nickname your friends dubbed him. You extracted your earphones from your ears, "Hi...?"

He smiled downward, in your direction, "Hi. I apologize for disturbing you during your studies but I wanted to ask a question,"

You thought he was going to ask you on a date. Maybe you two could have coffee together, preferably at the campus coffee shop. You are in love with their vanilla cappuccinos. However, he just wanted to know your reasoning for constantly returning to this same spot in the library. "Oh, well, I am an English major with a minor in Africana Studies. Most of the books that I need to use are in this section." You shrug. You did not let him know that his cosistent appearance in this section was another reason for your predictable return to this same nook.

"Africana Studies, eh?" He seemed pleased with your choice of study. "May I ask, why did you chose Africana Studies as an area of study?" He quirked his brows, pressed his lips together, and his eyes squinted at you. You play with the ends of your braids to calm the newfound nervousness. At this point, he sat down in one of the chairs.

You steadied your nervousness. He has an aura that commands your undivided attention. But, he gave you his undivided attention. "Why not be verse in the past, present, and future of my people? Black people, black culture, black histoty, blackness in its entirety is so rich. There is much that we know now but I'm sure there is much more that we have to learn." Any hint of nervousness you had detered. "So to answer your question, it was a necessary choice."

The smile that graced his lips did not falter. His smile was contagious. His smile, in turn, made you smile. And every time you saw him, your lips automatically curved into one. You two would have conversations about life on campus (including where are the best places to get good food), areas of study, and the library. You found out that he is a Graduate student studying International Relations. He is working in the library for financial reasons but also, he thoroughly enjoys literature. His love for literature began as a child. His mother forced him to read various literary texts to have a rich education and understanding of points of view that were similar and different than his. His father agreed that it would make him a better man and a better leader once he enters into the politics after college. When you found out his name, T'Challa Udaku, you had to know more about him.

You tried to Google search his name but nothing too juicy came up. He has a twitter where he discusses politics specifically foreign policy, soccer, threads with friends from back home, and how much he misses home. There was nothing hotepish. From what you could sumise, he does not currently have a girlfriend. He seemed to have threads with a someone named Nakia but those threads were older. Funny enough, you were able to find his sister. She seems like a jokester. You assume she probably makes fun of her brother but loves him dearly.

You dug a little deeper and asked your friend, Tiff, if she could find anything on him for you. Tiff was your roommate during your freshman year. You two have a sistership. She works in one of the university's offices. Simple enough, she had a way of looking at T'Challa's file. No it was not right but her helping you out was for research purposes. She could not provide much detail but that he is twenty eight years old, he's an International Student, and he attended school in England for his undergraduate studies. "And he is fine as hell. I see why you are stalking...I mean conducting research."

You learned so much about him during your conversations. You are thirsty and eager to learn more about him so you would find yourself in the library, looking for him. You figured out his work schedule on your own. You knew when he would clock in and out of his shifts.Your attention bounces around the second floor for him. You do not immediately go to your nook. However, he is nowhere in sight. You let out a frustrating sigh and venture over to your normal spot. As you approach, you notice him sitting in one of the chairs next to the couch. He is intently reading a novel: Chinua Achebe's A Man of the People. You recommended this book to him. There were two to-go coffee cups from the campus coffee shop on the table. The adrenaline that pumped inside you, calmed down. You cannot help but to smile at Mr. Librarian.

Your fingers tap his shoulder. He does not flinch. Instead, he looks up at you with a coolness that cannot be unmatched. "Y/N, hi."

"Hi, T'Challa. 'Got started on the novel already?" You sit down on your usual spot on the couch. You place your backpack next to you.

"I thought it was imperative. The way you described the novel, it was thrilling. I can already see such from the first couple of pages."

"Achebe was a genius," You grin. You can feel T'Challa's eyes search you. You catch a glimpse of him looking at your face, then your body, and back up to your face. You let him do so without any disturbance. At some point his stare made you nervous, now you lowkey bask in it. You crave it.

"I can already tell. Thank you for the recommendation. It is much needed to level out my course work and my position here. As a thank you, I went to the coffee shop. Vanilla cappuccino, right?"

He hands you one of the coffee cups. You take it, excitedly. Although it is summer, and it is hot, you will not deny yourself the flavor of a vanilla cappucino. You hum at the taste of the vanilla when you take a sip. "Thank you, T'Challa, you did not have to do this,"

"It is my pleasure Y/N." He pauses for a brief moment. He seems to mentally contemplate his next words. "Any way that I can bring you pleasure, I wish to do so." You sense that his words have a double entendre. He wants to bring you pleasure in the simple things like making you laugh, smile, and buying coffee for you. And, he wants to provide you a pleasure that awakens the sexual goodess within you. He wants to taste you on the tip of his tongue and make you come undone by the feel of him sliding inside of you. Your eyes meet his again, and they are lustful and hungry.

You contemplate your next move: either you pounce on this advancement or you act as if this conversation is not occurring. As many times as you have come to the library to see him and conducted as much outside research on who T'Challa is, you are not going to let this opportunity pass you by. You reach for his hand, so mighty, grand, and rich of chocolate. All you can think about is if his dick has the same description. You are sure that you will find out soon. "Is there anywhere that we can go that is private?" As much as you want to have engage in a public library fantasy, you want to be careful. You did not want T'Challa to lose his job or for your business to float around campus despite the lack of students on campus at the moment.

He takes your hand, enveloping into his. You follow him with your backpack and coffee in tow. Nearby, there is a media center room. There is a sign on the door that says: DO NOT USE. THANK YOU! You used one of these rooms before while working on a group project. It is difficult to book one of these rooms. However, Mr. Librarian has the ultimate access. He unlocked the room with a key. You slide pass him, feeling the hardness of his body against yours. You cannot help but to bite down on your lip at the feeling. He locks the door behind him. "No one is going to come in here, right?"

"This room has been unoccupied in months." He assures you, he places his coffee cup and novel down on a nearby desk. You do the same with your things. You two stare at each other, daring each other to make the first movement. "Come here." He challenges you with a confident smirk.

You shake your head, "No. Come here."

"Are you challenging me, Y/N?" He inches closer to you. You playfully shrug. He is now grinning at you. "So, you can come to the library, almost daily, to see me but you cannot come to me now? I am sure that you are tending to your studies but I have an inkling that your studies are not the only reason you are here. Admit it; you are here to see me."

T'Challa knew what you were up to, you have been caught. You could not back down from his challenge. Actually, his questioning and accusations excites you. Mr. Librarian is nasty, in the best way possible. He is now in front of you, staring into your eyes. He grabs you by your waist and firmly wraps his arm around you. His hand rests on the small of your back, right above your ass. You can smell his cologne - faint but intoxicatingly clean. His skin is perfect, chocolate and flawless. You can smell the scent of honey in his perfectly defined coils. Damn, this man is a dream.

"I come here to study, T'Challa. And, yeah, I come here to see you too." You admit.

"I knew it!" He wags his finger, feeling righteous in his suspicions about you. He did not want to come out and ask you if you only came to the library just to visit him. It would be rude of him. But he decided to take a chance. He checked out your book recommendation, bought your favorite cup of coffee, and with the spirit of Bast decided to take make his feelings known. "Can I ask another question?"

"Go ahead," You say.

"Can I kiss you?" Your heart damn near beat out of your chest. This beautiful, sexy man just asked could he kiss you? You'd never been asked before, by a man, if he could kiss you.

"Yes, please," T'Challa lifts up your chin slowly. His eyes travel down your lips. He examines your lips before pressing his against yours gently. The kiss is passionate, slow and sensual. Your tongue encaptures his, moving back and forth, making its own beautiful rhythm. He parts from you but you need to feel him again.

"One more question?"

"Wha...hm? Yes, T'Challa?"

"May I take you out on a date?" You cannot help but to grin with glee. Who knew practically stalking....conducting thorough research on this man would ultimately pay off?

#black panther fanfiction #t'challa x black!reader #t'challa x black reader #t'challa x you

51 notes · View notes

evanismyking · 6 years

Note

How do you come up with ideas for what you write. I've had a kpop/now idol producer for like 2 years and I still struggle intensely.

Hi, thanks for the random ask, it’s really sweet ^^ (also, sorry for not answering right away I’ve been kinda inactive due to studying) Well, I actually get ideas quite quickly, as in, I’ll read a quote, listen to a song, see a picture or a scene in a movie and my mind would instantly come up with a small, basic plot line that I usually note down in my drafts and if it has potential I’ll write it.If you struggle with lack of ideas, there’s a bunch of options you could try:

(looong post ahead so let’s place it under a dramatic cut)

♣Throw away the belief that you’re not creative. I, myself, struggle with this autocritical habit. Even though you might not have the creative power you desire, if you instill that in your subconscious it’ll only hinder you and it will eventually become factual. (’Eh, I’m simply not a creative person. That’s me.’) Don’t let that settle in your mind, I’d actually advise you do the opposite. Despite you not believing it, keep the mentality of ‘I can do it, I’m creative, I can come up with killer plots.’. That’s in no way a means to lie to yourself, but your mindset has a huge influence on your attitude towards writing, so keeping a positive outlook on your abilities might help a bunch.

♣Look into the lyrics of songs. People tend to associate auditory stimulus with mental imagery (when you listen to a song, you usually picture a scenario for it which can be developed into writing).

♣Same goes for books/fanfics you read (for instance, a sentence such as ‘his slender fingers danced along the slick surface of the book, initially following a strange pattern that soon turned into an abstract mixture of movements.’ will never be pictured the same way in the minds of two different people. There’s an infinite amount of variables to visualizing one simple sentence. Is the book open or closed? What color is the cover? Is it his right or left hand? Is he wearing rings? Where is the book placed? What point of view are you picturing this from? If you ask me, I pictured it from first p.o.v., book closed, deep green cover, left hand, one ring on his ring finger, so he’s married, probably an avid reader whose wife doesn’t care for his passion for literature, he loves Kant, Plato, Schopenhauer and Nietzsche, drinks his coffee bitter, the book placed on his black satin pants, and he never once stained the pages with a drop of coffee. (and I can legit go on forever about the life of a man I only read one sentence about). You just have to let your imagination blossom, you can get ideas from others’ writings without actually copying anything. (for example, you really liked a dialogue line so you take that and use it for a completely different plot)

♣Search for inspiration around you. Be it a strory you heard, a place you visited, a quote you read (one of my one shots, called Nyctophobia was actually inspired by a random pinterest quote, it was simply the definition of the word and my mind instantly came up with the scenario). Basically, instead of just looking at things, use them for mental exercise. When you visit a place, take 2 minutes to observe it and make up a story. What could the history of the place be? What would happen if you were stuck there during an apocalypse? How would this have looked 500 years ago? Or look at people, create a background story for a random face you see at the store, create an imaginary future for a child playing at the park etc.

♣I’ve read this interesting advice once for plot development. It was short and simple. Think of your protagonist, think of what he/she/they want to obtain the most. Now do everything you can as a writer to stop them from doing so. That not only hinders the characters but also the reader. ‘What is she gonna do now? How will he get out of this one?’ those are questions you want your readers to ask themselves. But then again you shouldn’t abuse this tactic ‘cause then your book becomes “a series of unfortunate events” and people will get bored with the Tom&Jerry feel of it.

♣Add a twist. We all know the overly used plot ideas (jock&nerd, soulmate’s name written on your wrist etc). As bored as we are with those types of storylines, some of them can turn into really good writings. You just need a twist. What if the nerd is actually an assasin? What if someone was born with their own name on their hand? etc.

♣Do some random writing exercises. There’s so many interesting things you could try out like go on a site that gives you random words, choose 3 or 5 and make up a story using them; or ask your friend to choose an idol, a weird location, a genre and a profession, let’s say, and you have to incorporate that into your writing etc. I believe there’s a bunch of sites for little games like that, if you or anyone else is interested, just send me an ask and I’ll look into them and share them with you.

♣You don’t need anything too complex. Coming up with ideas is a process that happens gradually, I’m pretty sure there’s not a lot of writers who simply think up a complicated plot from the get-go. You’d be amazed to find out most of us actually begin with the smallest, most trivial things and branch out the plot from there. I also find it interesting to merge two plots together. I get a bunch of random ideas and I sometimes combine two or more of them into one story line, even though they seeem unrelated.

♣Don’t stress to much. Writing should be fun, not daunting. However, lacking inspiration can be annoying as all hell, especially when you truly want to write but you have no idea what about. If you know it’s not just writer’s block and you truly struggle with a slight lack of creativity, don’t try to over-complicate things plot-wise. I tend to do that a lot, I come up with very complex plots and I sometimes get lost in them, along with my will to continue writing the specific work. Just start out slowly, basic ideas are ideas too, after all, you don’t need a masterpiece from the beginning. Sometimes a simple, straight-forward narrative structure can be quite nice to read as well. After you’ve got the hang of it, you can move onto more complicated plotlines. (but be careful to plan them out and be organized since they’re quite the hassle, honestly)

Hope this helped, even if in the slightest bit. If any other fellow ‘people who write’ (cue Jackson Wang’s ‘I’m not a rapper, I’m a person who raps’) have anything to add, feel free to do so, we all need some small inspirational tips once in a while.

#anon #writing tips #inspiraton

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moonlitjiminn · 7 years

Text

Purple Part Eight | Taehyung, You

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13

Why do you have to be different?

The lake became their 'spot', they met each other there almost once a week. Their lives became busy again, Taehyung having to finish his final copy of his part one for his thesis, Tori having to study pretty hard in order to ace her exams (she decided she should try harder this time round considering she was dating the smartest kid in her class) and apart from that Taehyung would often go to the library or to the gym – and only ever during dusk – while Tori would be at the mall with friends or working her part time job at the grocery store.

Although their few hours in the dead of night, just talking about life and what their week was like, what annoyed them, their science teacher being a jerk and picking on Tori because he knew she didn't know the answers. As well as what made them happy, mostly their calls and text exchanges, and their few run-ins on campus.

But they couldn't help waiting impatiently for the few times they did get to see each other.

"Ooooh you're watching TV?" Tori asked, peeking her head around Taehyung's front door.

He grinned, "Yeah," he pat the seat next to him.

"I wanna wat-" She stopped talking when she saw the screen. "Penguins? You're watching a documentary about penguins?"

"It's pretty interesting, actually," he paused it, "Did you say you wanted to watch?"

"Ugh," she sighed, plonking herself on the sofa next to him, "You're so boring."

He chuckled, "Me or the documentary?"

The documentary.

"You," she huffed, and he gave her a knowing smile.

"You didn't go to your literature lecture," he noted, looking at the time.

"Eh," she waved it off, "We're learning basically the same thing we did last year so I thought I'd check in on you, how's your 'studying' going?" she finger quoted 'studying' as if she didn't believe that was what he was doing.

"Great actually," he leaned back in his seat, crossing one leg over the other, pointing the remote at the TV and pressing play, "Now if you let me get back to-"

He stopped when he saw her cheeky smile, reaching for the remote.

"What ar-" she grabbed it, turning the TV off. "Victoria..." his eyes scanned her face, dropping from her eyes to her mouth, which was getting closer and closer to him.

She drew him to her, her hand moving straight to his jaw, "Am I a distraction?" her voice was gentle, as gentle as the kiss she gave him right after.

"Yes," he whispered back, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her closer, his lips brushing hers. It wasn't an innocent kiss, but more like a hot, fiery, passionate and demanding kiss, making her giggle against his lips.

"Are you hungry?" she joked, the way he was kissing her was like he hadn't eaten in years.

He inched back, looking into her eyes, brushing her hair behind her ears.

"I may know everything about nuclear physics, but I can never figure you out," he pecked her lips, "And yet, I don't even care," he kissed her again, "believe me, when I don't know something, I can never sleep until I find out what it is I'm missing."

She smiled, the smile he loved. The skin around her eyes crinkled ever so slightly (not as much as his did, though) and her eyes literally sparkled.

He was beginning to think that his favourite colour was changing.

Because he now loved the colour purple.

"I can never figure you out, either, Tae," she laughed, meeting his forehead with hers.

He leaned up, kissing her again, "Thank you for coming," he whispered.

"Even though you told me like a hundred times not to come?"

He shook his head, amused, "Yes, even though I told you not to come, I'm glad you did."

"You see, this is why I don't like waiting seven days before I get to see you," she sighed, her legs draped over his lap.

"I don't like it either," he said sadly, and it honestly surprised her.

He was so different today, a great wave of confidence had overwhelmed him, not to mention his want, his need to be closer to her.

"Well let's savour these few house that we do get to see each other," she threaded her fingers in his hair, "And leave the penguins alone."

He laughed, "But the poor penguins!"

She took his glasses off, wearing them herself.

"Do I look smarter now?" she asked, "I bet I do."

He shook his head, "Nope, you look like Victoria."

"Are you saying I'm not smart?" she exclaimed, her hand on her heart.

"Yeah," he nodded, innocently.

Her hands cupped his cheeks, squishing them together, just finding him so cute.

He frowned at her gestures, but didn't let them affect him for long. He took the glasses off her this time, putting them on the coffee table and pulled her closer, "When will I see you again?"

"Today next week probably?" her voice was just like his; sad.

He pouted and she laughed, pecking his lips, "You're so cute."

He pulled her back, kissing her harder, "I don't want to let go."

"You don't have to," she hummed, welcoming him as she let her lips trace a path from his own to his neck. He gasped, a quiet, soft gasp, but she loved how she made him run out of breath.

He was new to this, and decided to just let Tori continue, he didn't want to ruin the moment.

She let her kisses linger on his shoulder blade before she stopped, tearing away from him and he gave her a surprised look.

"I should probably leave before I do something dangerous," she grinned and he looked away, his cheeks burning up.

But she didn't let him blush for too long, turning his head to face her.

"Or should I stay?" her smile was mischievous and he had to avert his eyes to answer.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

That night, Tori found herself not just staying 'for a few more hours' like Taehyung had said, and instead waking up in his bedroom.

She bolted out of bed, and rushed into the kitchen, not knowing if she was going to catch him because she knew he went on morning runs.

But there he was, when she opened the bedroom door, standing at the stove with his back to her, holding the frying pan. She tiptoed to him, slithering her arms through his and around his waist.

He jumped at her touch but her voice soothed him, "It's just me," she whispered.

He visibly relaxed, although was stiff considering her arms were still around him.

"Good morning," she hummed, her lips deep rooted in the nap of his neck.

He shuddered at the sensation it gave him, but he couldn't deny it was a captivating feeling.

"Morning," he replied and she rocked him from side to side, while he continued to flip the pancake on the pan.

"Tae?" she called, tilting her head to look up at him.

"Yeah?" he asked, turning to look at her.

"Can you sing?"

His eyes widened.

"Huh?"

"Can you sing?" she repeated, "It's just something I've been curious about for a while."

"Why?"

"Wondering if you could be anymore perfect," she said, stroking his hair.

"I'm not perfect," he muttered.

"You're right," he turned around to put the pancakes on the counter and she spun with him. "But you're as close to perfect as any human can get."

He looked away, blushing.

Aww where did my Taehyung from last night go?

That made him blush even harder, he, himself, didn't know where the Taehyung from last night even came from. He kept trying to tell himself that it was late and he was tired, but he kept getting to the conclusion that he was becoming more and more compelled to Tori every day.

"Let's eat," he said, hoping to lighten the atmosphere and she happily skipped to her seat.

"Do you have any siblings?" Taehyung asked in the middle of breakfast and Tori raised an eyebrow. "Well, I know about your parents but I don't know if you have any-"

"Yeah, I have two brothers, one's older and one's younger, and I have a younger sister."

"That's a big family," he noted and she nodded.

"It is, it can get messy at times."

"But do you like it?"

She nodded again, "I love it, although I'm often compared to my older brother, he's a bit like you, crazy hard working, but other than that, I love it."

His smile faltered, he couldn't start to fathom the idea that her parents wouldn't like her the way she was.

"Sometimes I wish I had siblings," he told her, finishing off the last bit of his pancake.

"They would love to meet you, I bet you'd get along with them as if they were your own brothers and sisters."

He smiled at her, "Thanks."

"Oh fuck," Tori muttered, checking her phone for the time, leaving Taehyung to laugh at her language.

"You're starting to corrupt me with that dirty mouth of yours," he told her and she beamed at him.

"Well isn't that a good sign?" she asked, standing up and running around the counter and leaning down, "I need to get to my Government lecture in ten minutes."

He craned his own head up and let her kiss him, "Study hard."

"Oh, you know me," she winked at him and scurried out of the door, "See you later Tae!"

He sighed, shaking his head. He didn't understand the effect she had on him but whenever he was with her, he was all smiles. And whenever they were apart, he would be thinking about her, and wouldn't be able to stop smiling.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

"Jimin told me that you didn't want to go to Mark's party last night with him."

"Yeah," Tori nodded, chewing on her sushi.

"Tori, you can't really think you and Taehyung are going to work out."

Tori sighed aloud, "Jen, you can't really think I'm going to listen to that."

Jen shook her head, "Jimin's so head over heels for you, I can't believe you're doing this."

"Well I'm so head over heels for Taehyung, it's possible."

"This is so unfair," she puffed out her cheeks.

"Jen, do you like him?" she asked, scrunching her eyebrows at her.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Girl!" Tori laughed, "Why you trying to set him up with me then? You should go for him!"

"He doesn't look at any other girl but you."

She looked down. That was inevitable.

"I'm sorry," she whispered and Jen shoved her arm playfully.

"Why are you sorry? Not your fault that jerk fell for you."

Actually...

"He's coming," she sighed, "Don't look up."

"Hey Tori!" an enthusiastic voice chirped and a thud hit the table, she looked up to see a large duffel bag on it.

"Hey Jimin," she said, giving a nervous glance to Jen.

"I should probably g-"

"Jimin, I've gotta get going, can you keep Jen company while she finishes? I feel bad for leaving her alone."

"Of course," Jimin smiled at her as she stood up and walked away.

Tori knew that every single guy Jen falls in love with, dates and brings along to meet her will fall in love with Tori straight away. But she has the feeling that one day there will come a guy who starts to love Jen more than Tori, and that will be the one for her.

Her phone started vibrating and she found herself grinning like an idiot when she read the Caller ID.

"Hey!" she boomed into the phone.

"Hey Victoria," she could hear the smile in his voice and that made her smile too.

"What's up?"

"Just wondering where you were, I came to Uni to hand in my physics assignment, and remembered you had just finished a lecture, you still here?"

"Yes!" she tried not to sound too happy, "Where are you?"

Taehyung looked around, and in the corner of his eye saw her standing by the cafeteria doors, her phone to her ear.

"The library, you?" he lied.

"I'm just by the cafeteria."

"Okay, I'll come to you," he said and he saw her nodding vigorously, making him smile.

"See you soon!" she sung and hung up.

He took a step forward, observing how she put her phone into her pocket and started to thread her fingers in her hair, tying it up one way, and then shaking her head and changing the way it looked.

He shook his head, she was doing all this for him?

"Tae!" she beamed when she finally caught his figure.

He waved, finally reaching her, "Hey."

She scooped his hand in hers, "When do you have to go back?"

"My professor gave me today to rest," he sighed, "We've been doing a bit too much work the past two weeks."

"Yeah, I hardly ever see you," she nodded in agreement.

"Have you eaten? You probably have, you were just in there," he pointed at the cafeteria.

Ugh I'm full

"Nope, I just met Jen, that's all, you wanna eat?"

"Nah, it's okay," he shook his head, he wasn't all that hungry anyway, he had been eating late, it was a habit now.

She narrowed her eyes at him but he ignored her, squeezing her hand (something he had never done before), "Do you wanna do something before going back home?"

"Like what? Do you wanna get some coffee?"

"Hmm," he hummed, nodding, "The cafe down the road?"

"Sure," they walked to the exit of the campus, hand in hand.

"I'm going back to meet my family this weekend," she told him as they swung their arms to and fro.

"Really?" she loved the genuine excitement in his voice.

"Yeah," Tori said, "I thought it was about time I went back, do you want to join me?"

"What?"

"I mean, if you're not busy in the weekend."

Truth be told, he had to attend a few crucial lectures on the Saturday so this trip would have been a problem anyway.

"I don-"

I can't go alone.

"I do-"

Tae, if you don't come with, I don't think I can go back.

"Yeah, I-I think I can come," he nodded, "But do you think that would be okay? I mean, what if your family doesn't-"

"They'll love you!" she gushed, opening the cafe door.

"What if-"

She pulled his hand up to her lips and pressed them against it, "I know they will," she told him, "Trust me."

They walked up to the counter and placed their orders, as well as buying a small cheesecake for the pair to share.

Tori spent the next two hours telling Taehyung stories about how she grew up with her family, and he was much too happy to listen.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

The next three days, the two of them didn't ever see each other apart from the few five minute facetime calls and texts and phone calls they shared. They also packed their bags a bit too enthusiastically, too eager to spend the weekend away from reality.

"Tae!" a voice boomed while Taehyung was standing in the airport, hands in his pockets, scanning the departure board.

He turned around to see Tori running to him, a large duffel bag over her shoulder. As soon as she reached him, she crashed into him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Woah," she huffed, at the impact.

"Hi," she whispered, panting.

"You okay?" he asked, pulling back and brushing the hair out of her eyes.

"Yeah, just missed you," she looked up at him, excitedly, "Guess what?"

"What?"

"I got a B+ average for all my papers this year so far!"

He thought for a moment, not knowing what to say.

I guess a B+ average is good for her, right?

"That's great!" he exclaimed, ruffling her hair.

"I did good, didn't I?"

"Yes, yes you did," he scrunched his nose, "I'm proud. Next time you're going to get an A+ average, right?"

She pouted, "Gosh."

As they carried their luggage again, Tori spoke.

"I couldn't stop thinking about this weekend, everything I did was because of this," she entwined their fingers.

He grinned, his normal rectangular smile that she was growing to love.

He didn't know that being in love would ever have made someone feel the way he felt.

"My parents are going to pick us up from the airport," she sighed, "I just hope they woke up on the right side of the bed this morning."

Taehyung squeezed her hand as he led them to check in, "You'll be okay, Tori."

Her eyes widened and she snapped her head around to look at him.

"What?" he asked, completely surprised, as he handed the lady at the counter their tickets.

"You've never called me that before," she blinked.

"I-Is that a big deal?"

The lady stamped something and gave the tickets back, pointing to the direction of their gate.

"Yes it is!"

"Oh... sorry," he looked down.

She pinched his cheek, "You never fail to surprise me everyday."

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

When they landed, Taehyung walked out as normal, while Tori trailed slowly behind him, peeking around every so often, too afraid to look.

He exhaled and stepped to the side, catching Tori's waist, the movement so swift she didn't believe it was him.

"Can you see them?" he whispered in her ear and it was probably the first time she was taken aback by his smoothness.

"Uh..." she looked around, and there they were, standing right in the middle, waving at them. "Yeah..."

"Well, let's go then," he followed her gaze and saw the couple waving at her, and led her to them.

"Tori!" the exclaimed as soon as they were within earshot.

She dropped her hand from Taehyung's waist and opened her arms for the both of them.

Taehyung watched them in adoration, but that was only until her mother caught his gaze and let go.

"You must be..."

"Taehyung," he heard Tori whisper and she nodded.

"Taehyung."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr and Mrs Chandler," he bowed, holding his hand out.

"This is the first time I'm meeting the guy Tori's been seeing, you must be someone special."

Tori looked to him and winked.

"C'mon, let's get the two of you home."

Tori's dad took their luggage and her mother started for the exit. Tori pulled Taehyung by snaking her arm around his waist.

"They're what you were scared of?" he asked, leaning down close so that they couldn't hear.

"When you get to know them, you'll understand why I'm terrified."

"Still terrified? Victoria, they're ecstatic to see you!"

She tightened her grip on him, making him flop his body against hers, "You keep me sane."

He shook his head, thinking that she was completely blowing this out of proportion, but she couldn't say anything because his phone rang.

He raised an eyebrow while he pulled it out, no one ever called him and when his phone did ring, it was 100% always Tori.

"Hello?" he asked, after checking the ID: unknown number.

"Is this Taehyung?" the grungy voice on the other line said.

"Yes, it is, may I know who's speaking?"

"Taehyung..." the voice softened, almost seeming loving, "It's your dad."

I hope you liked that chapter!!

Here are a few text conversations that happened between Tori and Taehyung :)

#btswriters #BTS Writing Squad #ot7network #armiesnet #kimtaehyungnet #bts #taehyung #bts taehyung #bts scenario #taehyung scenario #bts scenarios #taehyung scenarios #bts fluff #taehyung fluff #bts angst #taehyung angst

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everlarkbirthdaydrabbles · 7 years

Note

Hi my birthday is February 10, I'd like one set in college, fluffiness and in any rating. Thank you!

Happiest of birthdays to you! To celebrate in style, the always amazing @titaniasfics has written this delicious little everlark drabble, just for you! Enjoy!

Near-Sighted

The prompt asked for college!Everlark, fluffy or smutty. This one came out rated T.

Many thanks to @eala-musings for her betaing magic and @akai-echo and @everllarkingnewtina for prereading.

Happy birthday!

Katniss was absolutely positive she’d left her glasses sitting between The Aeneid and her laptop. A cursory glance over the piles of books on the cherrywood table assured her that her glasses were most definitely not anywhere to be found. Not on the assorted tomes lining her work area, not in the middle of the notes she was taking for her Latin Literature in Translation class. Not on the chair, in her backpack, her shirt pocket or even on top of her head. In a huff, she gave a cursory scan at the stacks she’d visited, but her vision was blurry and nothing stood out at her.

Dammit, she needed those glasses!

Her problem was not the reading or note-taking - she didn’t actually need glasses to read. She had no problem whatsoever seeing what was right in front of her. But she did need her glasses to see far away, especially as she was going to meet Madge for dinner after she finished studying. She needed them most at night if she wasn’t planning on walking into poles and sides of buildings.

She slowly expelled a lungful of air, trying to calm her frustration at having arrived at this predicament. Rounding her table, she checked the floor, the trash bin, even the lamp attached to the wall. Anything that might point her in the direction of her second pair of eyes. Finally, she issued a muffled squeal of delight when she saw the very glasses she sought on another table, just a few feet down and across from her. She walked quickly, oblivious to everything around her except for her goal of reaching her missing accessory. When they were within reach, she scooped them up from the top of the book pile and, with a sigh of relief, put them on.

Yes! Yes!

Oh, no…

She pulled them off of her eyes, blinking quickly to clear away the distortion of her surroundings. Instead of coming into focus, the world had become curved and elongated, like a mirror in a fun house. She studied the frames carefully. Solid black. Square frame. Almost too big for her face. Touch of silver inside the right earpiece…wait, no touch of silver inside the right temple tip–

“Excuse me,” came a man’s voice, so close to her, she started involuntarily.

She still held the confounding frames in her hand when she raised her eyes to meet the speaker. He was a student, like her, not entirely unfamiliar, though she’d never spoken to him. Medium build, ashy blond waves and eyes that were an absolutely riveting shade of blue. She didn’t speak as much as croak, “Yes?”

“You seem to have become fond of my glasses,” he said, a lilt of humor in his voice.

Katniss looked at him, then down at the glasses, then back up at him before thrusting the glasses forward. “Well, that explains why I can’t see with them. Your vision is worse than mine.” She placed them on the stack where she’d found them, burning inside and out with embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I was sure they were mine.”

“Did you misplace yours?” he asked, taking the glasses, wiping them briefly with a white cloth the kind that always came in eyeglass cases. He put them on and she suddenly envied him and his possession of glasses that should have been, and very nearly were, hers. Except for the fact they were not.

“Sadly, yes. They look exactly like yours and now I’m afraid I’ll never find them.”

He nodded thoughtfully, evidently thinking and scanning the stacks as she had, although she could have assured him that it was an exercise in futility.

“Where are your books? The ones you took from the shelves?”

I pointed at the table where I’d been working. “There.” I followed him as he made his way to my work area and perused the selections.

“Are you taking your lit class with Professor Coin?” he asked, picking up each book and scanning the spine of each in turn.

“Yeah,” she answered. “I was working on a paper that’s due next week.”

“Do you like her?” he asked, putting one of the books under his arm and indicating towards the stacks.

“Eh, well…” I started, wondering instead where he was going with my book. “She can be…abrupt…sometimes.”

“You’re too polite. She’s unpleasant and cold. I had her last semester. Almost made me hate reading, and I thought nothing could make me hate reading.”

She chuckled, nodding in agreement. “That’s a good way of putting it.” She pointed at her book. “What are you doing with it?”

“I figured I’d use your books as a map, go back through them until we get to the place where you lost your glasses.”

Katniss was taken aback at the offer for help. “Please, I can do that, I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

He smiled, his eyes literally twinkling, an effect that momentarily befuddled her. Even with the glasses, his eyes were a captivating shade of blue. “I needed a study break. I’m Peeta, by the way. You actually look familiar.”

“I’m Katniss,” she said, wracking her brain before clearing her throat and speaking. “And yeah, I think we might have taken a freshman class together or something.”

“We were in the same Freshman Composition and Survey of World History classes together. You also took your lunch in the cafeteria about the same time every day for a while, but…” He rubbed the back of his neck, perhaps not completely oblivious to Katniss’s surprise. “Well, it’s nice to finally meet you,” he said, a slight flush tingeing his cheek. He turned and looked again in the direction of the stacks. “Let’s start here.”

Katniss took a couple of books and followed him, attempting to study the binding for the call numbers as her mind raced. How did he remember so much about her? Yet she barely recalled him, though in her defense, freshman classes were impossible large and often taught in amphitheater-style rooms that prohibited people from interacting with anyone who was not seated closeby.

She scolded herself, setting off to search the shelves with renewed energy, attempting to focus on the task before them.

“Are you staying on campus?” he asked after several moments of scanning the row upon row of books.

“Oh, me?” she said, looking up only to become distracted by the way his back flexed under the thin materials of his white t-shirt. “I have a little place off campus that I share with three other roommates. It’s cheaper and quieter usually.”

“And probably cleaner. I’m in the dorms with another roommate, but it’s a zoo sometimes. That’s why I come here to study.”

Katniss nodded to his turned back and remembered to speak. “Me, too. I think sometimes I’m the only one in my apartment who actually studies.”

He stopped and turned with an expression of surprise. “Right? I mean, at some point, between the parties and the hanging out, you have to earn a degree, right?”

“Yeah,” she said, “I have a scholarship to keep up. Otherwise, I get sent home.”

He gazed at her, the intensity in his eyes flaring momentarily, making her feel both flushed and shivery at the same time. “I’m on a scholarship, too. Seems we have some things in common.”

“Yeah,” she said, very near breathless now. She didn’t understand how looking at someone while they spoke, something she was accustomed to doing with everyone, could have such a strange effect on her. She wasn’t much of a talker, but there was something about him that inspired a wave of contrasts - hot and cold, speech and silence, interest and shyness. She was grateful when he turned to the next aisle, leaving her momentarily alone to take a deep breath and compose herself. She hadn’t felt like that in, well, never.

When she rounded the end of the stalls, Katniss could tell his search had been unsuccessful. He was about to speak, but the buzz of her phone reverberated between them.

“Excuse me,” Katniss said as she pulled the cell out of her pocket. It was Madge and, judging by the time, she was already running late to dinner with her friends. This was confirmed by Madge’s message:

-Are you coming?

Katniss smiled apologetically at Peeta as she typed out:

-Sorry. Got hung up at the library. Misplaced my glasses

“My roommate,” she said by way of explanation. Madge’s response vibrated to life.

-Dummy, there’s a pair here, on your desk

Katniss groaned when she read the text, a sound that drew Peeta’s attention. “I’m completely brainless,” she said, shaking her head at herself.

“Why?”

“Madge…my friend…she told me my glasses are home. I’ve wasted your good time and mine also. I’m sorry.”

Peeta’s eyes widened before he chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. It’s probably the only kind of adventure you can actually have at the library. I’m happy to say I can take that off my bucket list, now.”

Katniss laughed, noting how far his humor went towards making her feel at ease. She actually didn’t really care about the glasses anymore. The phone vibrated insistently in her pocket, reminding her that she had other obligations that she simply didn’t care about either.

Peeta handed back the book he was holding, which she took absently. On an impulse, she spoke, tripping over her words, “I…I haven’t had dinner yet, and I can’t get too far without my glasses. Blind, you know?”

He tapped his own pair. “I might know something about that.”

She felt her skin prickle with heat and a certain excitement. “So…there’s a place nearby. You could…come with me…keep me from falling into a construction pit or something.”

“Ah, or from playing in traffic,” he said, the deepening pink of his cheeks and neck betraying his own nervousness. “I would love to have dinner with you.”

“That’s..great…I’ll let my roommate know,” she said as she tapped out a quick message to Madge:

Have other plans. Text you at 11

The response was nearly instantaneous:

It had better involve a guy and there had better be lots of naughty bits

Katniss glanced at Peeta, who waited patiently for her to finish, and answered:

It does and I hope so too ;)

fin

#Everlark birthday drabbles #neverstopwhileyoureahead #titaniasfics

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pokemaniacal · 7 years

Text

Pokémon Moon, Episode 10: In Which I Am Recruited To A Cultural Revolution

Apparently, just like many Pokémon… Professor Oak has an Alolan form. He has dark skin, a mullet, and a Hawaiian shirt, his name is Samson rather than Samuel, and he claims to be a cousin of the Professor Oak I know from Kanto, but other than that he seems like exactly the same sanctimonious, incompetent, guilt-tripping whack-a-doodle that I’ve known for pretty much my entire life as a trainer. Even better, it turns out that this version of him helped to build the Rotomdex, so the aggravating little thing basically worships the ground he walks on. If he runs research projects anything like his “cousin” does, most of his data is probably gathered by unpaid teenage Pokémon trainers, so I thank my lucky stars he doesn’t seem to have any “requests” for me to take care of, then take my leave as abruptly as I can. As it turns out, I needn’t have hurried; Lillie has been held up, talking to that woman with the Mudsdale, Hapu, whom I met back on Akala Island. Still not sure what her deal is. She’s clearly powerful and makes a point of giving out help and guidance as she travels, but she doesn’t wear a Captain’s wooden clover-shaped insignia, and I don’t think she’s a Kahuna either. If anything, she acts a lot like Champions I’ve met in the past, but I’m not sure Alola even has a Champion. I briefly consider tailing her instead, but decide against it: Lillie could accomplish all sorts of treachery with the forbidden knowledge of the Malie Library. I sneak inside behind her, discreetly ducking behind a shelf of magazines as she heads up the stairs.

Once I’m upstairs, peering at Lillie from a distance with my face hidden behind an open book, it becomes clear that she is meeting a contact here. This slight, purple-haired girl, wearing a ragged, patchy dress, is named Acerola, and she’s wearing a Captain’s insignia. The conspiracy must go far deeper than I imagined! From snippets of their conversation, I learn that Lillie seems to be seeking a legendary Pokémon called Lunala – “the beast that calls the moon,” who appeared after “the empty sky broke asunder.” According to legend, Lunala “stole all heaven’s light,” forced the king of Alola to bow before it, and defeated all four of the Tapu guardians. Then there’s something about “bringing the dark,” “casting a pall on the line of kings,” and “marking the path for all finished things,” fairly standard doom-cult stuff, but then a reference to some sort of mystic union between the moon and sun, which brought new life to Alola. The line about the sky breaking asunder must refer to an Ultra Wormhole, and Lunala must be an Ultra Beast – one who conquered Alola in ancient times, cut off the entire region from the light of the sun, moon and stars, and ended a great dynasty of Alolan monarchs, forcing the new line of kings to worship it so it would spare their people. It’s worse than I feared! Lillie wants to summon a terrible legendary Pokémon to cover the entire archipelago in darkness and crown herself Empress of the Unfathomable Night! I must uncover more details of her plan, so someone who actually cares can stop her!

Or. I mean. I guess I could do it. If no one else will.

Lillie remains ensconced in the library, hunting forbidden lore, and once she stops talking to Acerola I can’t easily observe her activities without alerting her, so I quietly exit the library and head out of Malie City to explore. I’ve beaten two out of four Kahunas now, and according to Professor Kukui there’s another Captain up on Mount Hokulani, so I may as well go for it. I acquire a couple of new evolutions – the Alolan Ghost Marowak, the Alolan Persian (who has an odd, deformed-looking spherical head), and Steenee, the evolved form of Bounsweet, a ballerina-like fruit Pokémon who is fast shaping up to be this generation’s exemplar of “Grass Pokémon don’t get nice things.” South of Malie City, I also discover an entirely new Pokémon – Komala, a blue-grey Normal-type koala Pokémon. It doesn’t seem to evolve, and its stats are by no means exceptional, and it’s mostly interesting because of a peculiar ability: Comatose. Komala is perpetually subject to the “drowsy” status inflicted by Yawn, but never actually falls asleep; this effectively confers immunity not only to sleep but to all major status conditions. I eventually decide to head along the west road to the base of Mount Hokulani, where there should be a stop on the bus route to the summit. I notice as I approach the bus stop that there are two people waiting already… and then that those two people are Team Skull grunts; B, whom I originally met in Hau’oli City, and the same guy who was with him at the Ruins of Life. Well, this isn’t so bad; maybe if I can get to know them in a less antagonistic situation, we can build a rapport and…

…wait, are they… trying to steal the bus stop?

“What? You never see somebody take a bus stop to go before?” the second grunt asks bluntly when he notices me staring. “…honestly? No. No I have not.” The bus stop has no shelter or seats; it’s literally just a road sign, with a heavy concrete base buried in the ground to prevent… well, exactly this, as far as I can tell. Both Team Skull grunts are scrabbling in the dirt around the base, trying to dig it out so they can carry it off. “Um… do you… need some help with that?” B looks up at me, confused. “Hey, yo! You trying to steal our bus stop?” he accuses me. “Best go find your own, ya hear?!” “Yeah, fo’ shizzle!” the other grunt declares. “It’s on, yo!” He gets to his feet and calls out his Raticate. “Look, guys, I don’t… can we seriously not do this? I don’t care, I just- WHOA!” I dodge as the Raticate lunges at me, and send out my Dartrix, who makes short work of it with a couple of Razor Leaf barrages. “Dang, I lost?” He looks dismayed at first, but then perks up. “Then my homie’s gotta fight you! That’s just life in Team Skull.” B reaches for his Pokéball, and I turn towards him. “Dude, please don’t make me do this; I’d feel like I’m kicking a Togepi…” B stamps his foot angrily. “We stand up even to the strong, yo!” he shouts. “We stand up, even if it ain’t for long, yo!” I blink. That… actually sounds kind of brave. I mean… it’s a bit weird to take a stand like this over a bus stop, but hey, baby steps. I smile at him. “That’s the spirit. Game on!” I send out my Slowpoke. B throws his Pokéball, and a Golbat emerges. My smile broadens. “Huh; your Zubat evolved! Maybe we can make a half-decent trainer out of you yet!” B glares back. “Yo, we prattlin’ or we battlin’?” he demands. Well, someone’s got something to prove. I shrug, and our Pokémon charge into battle. Or, I mean, his Golbat charges in, and my Slowpoke kinda just sits there, because she’s a Slowpoke and that’s what they do. The Golbat flies circles around her for a while and gets in a couple of nasty Bites, but inevitably gets knocked out of the sky by a Psychic blast. With a defeated sigh, B recalls his Golbat, and slouches. “I don’t know if you care, but that bus stop weighs about as much as a Golem,” he says regretfully. “I’m sure it’s not that heavy,” I say kindly, then take hold of the bus stop with both hands and pull. It doesn’t budge. “…okay…” I say, panting, “okay, it’s pretty heavy.” “You really don’t care ‘bout us tryin’ to gank that shiz, homie?” the other grunt asks me curiously. “I… guess a little? But it’s just a bus stop; it’s not like you’re trying to steal Pokémon again.” I pause, and take another look at the bus stop. “…are you? This isn’t, like… some weird Alolan bus stop Pokémon. Uh… right?” I ask, glancing at the Rotomdex. “Zzzzzt! I’ll give you twooooo guessezzz, boss!” the Rotomdex answers. “Smart-arse.” “Yo, think about the bus drivers!” B exclaims. “If we take this bus stop, they can all chill!” “That’s…” I stop and think for a moment. “That’s actually kind of sweet.” B’s face reddens for some reason. “I mean, I don’t think public transport… really works that way, exactly? I’m pretty sure this would just confuse everyone.” “So you ain’t gonna help us either?” B asks. I shrug. “Eh. What the hell.” I grab the bus stop sign again. “Okay, guys, on three.” They both take hold of the sign too. “One… two… THREE!” All three of us heave with all our might, and slowly but surely, the heavy concrete base begins to inch out of the soil around it… until something gives way, and it all breaks free in an instant, sending us sprawling in a tangled pile on the ground. A shadow passes over the heap of knotted limbs. “…do I even want to know?” Professor Kukui asks. “Someone’s foot is in my face,” I answer calmly. I peer curiously at the shoe. “I think it’s mine.”

Once the Team Skull grunts have left, Professor Kukui and I wave down the next bus and head up to the summit of Mount Hokulani, the site of an advanced astronomical observatory that takes full advantage of the mountain’s isolation from light pollution. Despite its magnificence, Hokulani is only the second-tallest mountain in Alola – second to Mount Lanakila, visible off in the distance to the southwest. Lanakila is the focus of Kukui’s greatest ambition; the big contribution he wants his life to make to Alola. There, at its summit, close to the celestial realm of Alola’s legendary Pokémon, is where he wants to form an Alolan Pokémon League. Alola’s four Kahunas will appoint a Champion who will be recognised by fellow Leagues all over the world. Kukui’s plan calls for nothing less than a cultural revolution in Alolan Pokémon training, bringing the region into the 21st century – and Hau and I, the most recent trainers to begin the island challenge, are vital parts of his plan. Well, I guess as a foreigner, and a former title-holder myself, I am in something of a unique position to help him. It’s a more persuasive argument for completing the island challenge than Tapu Koko ever offered me, anyway. For that matter, modernising Alola’s traditions seems like something that would really annoy the Tapu without actually giving them any excuse to smite me.

Before taking on the observatory’s trial, I explore the mountain a little bit, fight some trainers, and discover another new Pokémon: Minior, a floating meteorite Pokémon with a gleaming gem-like core surrounded by a rocky outer shell that breaks apart when it takes damage. Despite not being a bird, not flying with wings, and not having any wind powers, Minior’s type is Rock/Flying, because clearly the Flying type made way too much sense in generation VI. When I return to the summit, Kukui introduces me to an old friend and travelling companion of his: a trainer named Molayne, who works at the observatory and was once its Captain (I’ve learned elsewhere that Captains traditionally give up their positions when they turn 20). By way of introduction, Molayne challenges me to a battle, and my Toucannon obligingly explodes his team of Steel-types – a Skarmory, a Metang, and… an Alolan Dugtrio, whose heads each sport a luxurious surfer’s mane of golden hair. I… still don’t quite understand why these are Steel-types, unless their hair is literally made of gold wire or something. In any case, Molayne decides that this victory proves I’m ready for the Mount Hokulani trial, and ushers me inside to meet the current Captain, Sophocles.

Wait, Sophocles? The grumpy-as-$#!t Cartman knock-off who runs the Festival Plaza?

…yeah. Turns out he’s totally a Captain. A very young Captain, who recently inherited the role from Molayne, his cousin, as a result of “unusual circumstances” that prevented Ula’ula’s Kahuna from appointing a new Captain when Molayne became too old. Sophocles is… well, doing his best, but clearly not ideal for the role; he’s nervous, awkward, doesn’t know how to talk to challengers, seems more concerned with his inventions and the Festival Plaza than with running the Hokulani trial, and isn’t particularly interested in doing things by the book. He doesn’t lead me to a special trial site; instead, he has a plan to have his Totem Pokémon come to us, summoning it with an experimental device that broadcasts ultrasonic signals from space (…or something). I am certain that nothing here could possibly go wrong.

Something instantly goes wrong.

Sophocles’ device broadcasts its signal, then immediately blows a fuse, taking out all the lights and triggering a lockdown in the observatory’s security system. Sophocles claims he can sense the Totem Pokémon’s approach, but we’re going to need to deal with the lockdown first – by passing an audio quiz. The obstinate system opens the lab’s doors just long enough to let in a wild Pokémon every time I successfully identify the sounds it’s making – the Pokémon Centre heal tone, the Rotomdex’s startup tone, Charjabug’s cry. My Pikachu successfully defeats the Grubbin and Charjabug that turn up first, and my Raticate handles a second Charjabug. At last, Sophocles’ Totem Pokémon arrives: Vikavolt, an ugly-as-sin but undeniably badass flying electrical beetle, whose aura, in contrast to the other Totems I’ve fought so far, buffs all of its stats. My Pikachu manages to hurl out a Catastropika and a Volt Tackle before being knocked out, and my Salandit follows up with Toxic. This whole time there’s a Charjabug assisting the Vikavolt with Mud Slaps and Thunder Waves, just to annoy me. Finally though, with Vikavolt weakened, my Dartrix finishes it off with Pluck. Meanwhile, Molayne restores the observatory’s power and deactivates the security system, releasing us. He and Sophocles reward me with not one but two Z-Crystals: Sophocles’ Electrium-Z and Molayne’s Steelium-Z. Molayne also hands me Professor Kukui’s Masked Royal lucha mask, which he apparently left up here, and asks me to give it to him at Malie Garden.

Returning to Malie Garden, I find Professor Kukui almost immediately, but he’s somewhat preoccupied, deep in a debate with none other than the two Team Skull grunts who were trying to steal the bus stop earlier. “You say you wanna make a Pokémon League?” B asks him incredulously. “You got rocks in your skull?” Kukui grins and holds up four fingers. “Four turns!” The grunts look at each other, confused. “Huh?” “I’ve been researching Pokémon moves, so I’m always ready! I’ll take you both on in a Battle Royal!” The watching crowd cheers. I allow myself a smirk as the grunts shuffle nervously. Suddenly, B notices me and catches my eye over Kukui’s shoulder. His expression goes stern and he balls his fists. “F-fine!” he blurts at Kukui. “You asked for it!” I widen my eyes and shake my head at B vigorously, dragging a finger across my neck. This is… not going to be pretty. Much as I hate to admit it, Professor Kukui knows his $#!t. As he prepares to battle, though, a murmur sweeps through the crowd. People chatter nervously, there are a couple of scattered ‘boo’s, and I hear a name repeated over and over: “Guzma!” The crowd behind the two Team Skull grunts parts as a young man swaggers up. He’s in maybe his late 20s, dressed in Team Skull black and white, with a shock of white hair, and shows off his team’s stylised S-skull logo in both a gaudy gold necklace and a pair of purple forearm tattoos. “Battle Royal, huh?” the newcomer drawls. “Nice idea there, Kukui. You can beat down three Pokémon at once?” Both grunts instantly adopt postures of total deference. “The boss has graced us with his presence!” “The hated boss who beats you down, and beats you down, and never lets up… Yeah. Big bad Guzma is here!” Guzma says, his voice rising with each phrase. He raises his arms into the air. “GREETINGS, COWERING PUBLIC! We have an exciting bout for you tonight! In the opposing corner, the Pokémon professor Kukui! And in this corner, the boss of Team Skull and the hardest guy around, Guzma!” Kukui thinks for a moment, smirks, and this time holds out both hands. “Seven turns.” Guzma growls at him angrily. “This move fanatic is getting me all riled up!” “Let’s see it then, Guzma,” Kukui taunts him. “Show me your moves and prove you aren’t all talk! If you can… right, Chris?” I blink a couple of times and hastily glance around, searching for some other Chris he might have meant, or perhaps a convenient bush to dive into. “Uh… what?” I ask lamely. Guzma frowns. “So you’re one of the kids on his island challenge? You don’t look like Hala’s grandson.” Where the hell is Hau? Why doesn’t anyone ever make him handle cr@p like this!? “This here’s Chris,” Kukui explains proudly. “He just moved to Alola recently. Discovery! Adventure! He’s loving every minute!” “Love is a very strong word,” I hastily clarify. “It’s… really more of a passive marinating process.” Guzma chuckles. “You’ve got a Z-Ring, huh, kid?” he observes. “Why even bother with the island challenge?” I shrug. “I’m gonna be honest, inertia is a pretty big part of it at this point.” He roars with laughter. “HAHA! You don’t even know why you’re doing it!” He turns his attention back to the Professor. “You see, Kukui? Here we are, fellow rejects who could never become Captains. We’ve got all these mouldy old traditions in Alola – the Kahunas, the Captains… it’s about time we cut out all that silly garbage and make something new for ourselves. Trust me, I get that. Don’t get me wrong though, Kukui. I’ve got no need for a Pokémon League. After all, everyone already knows who the strongest trainer is on these islands!” “Speak for yourself, Guzma,” Kukui begins. “Well, hang on, though,” I interrupt, raising my hand for quiet. “He’s sort of got a point.” Both men look at me quizzically. “I mean, I want to get rid of Alola’s whacko bird cults and volcano rituals and freaky voodoo $#!t as much as anyone. You could at least cut out the human sacrifices.” Kukui goes stony-faced at that. “How did you know about-?” “Didn’t. I was totally going off random guesswork and thinly-veiled racism. Until now. Seriously, dude!?” He looks sheepish. “But the point is, there’s no reason modernising Alola means you have to do everything like Kanto and Johto, with a Pokémon League and a Champion. I mean, have you met Kanto’s Elite Four? I have! They live in a castle in the middle of nowhere and they all hate each other!” Guzma guffaws. “I like this kid!” I turn on him. “And you! What do you think you’re doing, running a gang with all these… debatably innocent kids? I mean, these two? They wouldn’t hurt a fly. I’m not sure they could if they tried. How tough do you have to be to bully them around, anyway?” Guzma is fuming now. Meanwhile, B is now looking at me with his eyes wide, shaking his head, and dragging a finger across his neck. I just wink at him. Guzma looks back and forth between us a couple of times in utter confusion, then remembers his wounded pride. “Watch closely, Kukui,” he growls. “Someday I’m gonna destroy you. But first, I’ll destroy everything you care about! WANNA SEE WHAT DESTRUCTION LOOKS LIKE? HERE IT IS IN HUMAN FORM – IT’S YOUR BOY, GUZMA!” Guzma roars and hurls a Pokéball as I send out my Raticate. Guzma’s Pokémon is a hulking mass of insectoid chitin and muscle that he calls a Golisopod. Okay, I think to myself, it doesn’t look that fast, so- “First Impression!” “Wait what.” There is a sickening crunch, and my Raticate sails through the air past my shoulder making a mournful wailing noise. “…ah.” Well, that didn’t work. I send in my Salandit and command her to use Inferno Overdrive, which puts a dent in the Golisopod, but it strikes back with a Razor Shell that knocks her out immediately. Huh. I squint at the Golisopod, and realise what it is: the evolved form of that pathetic bottom-feeding silverfish, Wimpod! I WANT ONE. Secure in knowing what I’m dealing with, I throw my Toucannon into the ring and fire off a Beak Blast that flattens Golisopod. That seems to be Guzma’s strongest Pokémon; his only other is an Ariados, no match for a Toucannon. Guzma becomes visibly enraged as his Pokémon drop. “GUZMA!!!” he explodes. “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!? NOW’S THE TIME FOR YOUR VAUNTED TEAM TO LET LOOSE AND DESTROY EVERYTHING!” “Dude, chill,” I tell him. “Has anyone ever told you to get a hobby?” Guzma just growls unintelligibly, turns around and storms off.

As Guzma leaves, the two grunts linger for a little while, over by one of the garden pools. The second one jabs B in the side with an elbow and jerks his head over at me. B shakes his head vigorously and makes a couple of gang signs I still can’t recognise or interpret. His friend just glares at him sternly, points at me, then turns his back to me, folds his arms, and starts tapping his foot. B says something to him, but he just stands there, stony-faced. With a sigh, B slouches over in my direction and fixes his gaze on my feet. “Mmmsrrrrytrrrdt’stlllyrpkmmnn,” he mumbles. “…what?” I ask, genuinely confused. “M’mm sorry we tried t’steal y’rr Pokémon,” he mumbles again, this time just loud enough for me to make out what he’s trying to say. “Back on ‘mele Island.” “Oh.” I fumble for the words to respond, taken aback by the apology. “Well, I… um. Thanks. That can’t have been easy to say. I’m, uh… glad you felt you could do that.” “Listen,” he mutters, still looking at my feet. “Don’t mess with the boss, yo. You don’t want him to get serious. You’d…” He wrenches his eyes away from the ground and looks right at me. “You’d get straight messed up, homie.” I try to smile at him. “It’ll be okay. I’ve dealt with bigger, crazier whackos than Guzma.” B glances back at the other grunt. “Yo, I gotta split. See you round?” “Definitely.” As I watch them leave, Professor Kukui presses something into my hand, saying something about a signature move for Dartrix’s evolved form, but I’m not really listening. I think it’s time Guzma’s gang started standing up to him…

Ridiculous quote log:

“Our safe driving record will absolutely slay you!” …I think you may have missed the essential purpose of safe driving, Exeggutor Express.

The team:

Tane the Dartrix Male, Timid nature, Overgrow ability Level 33 Steel Wing, Razor Leaf, Synthesis, Pluck

Rhea the Toucannon Female, Lax nature, Keen Eye ability Level 33 Screech, Roost, Beak Blast, Brick Break

Ashley the Pikachu Female, Timid nature, Static ability Level 33 Volt Tackle, Hidden Power (Ice), Nasty Plot, Nuzzle

Hypatia the Slowpoke Female, Hardy nature, Own Tempo ability Level 33 Psychic, Yawn, Façade, Scald

Soot the Raticate Female, Hardy nature, Hustle ability Level 33 Crunch, U-Turn, Hyper Fang, Focus Energy

Joanna the Salazzle Female, Timid nature, Corrosion ability Level 33 Flame Burst, Nasty Plot, Dragon Rage, Toxic

#pokemon moon playthrough #pokemon #alola #lillie #team skull #sophocles #acerola #molayne #professor kukui #guzma #malie city #mount hokulani #lunala #steenee #komala #minior #vikavolt #golisopod

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