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lostinfic · 3 years

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Christmas Eve (stuck) in the Lab

Chapter 12/12 *complete*

Summary: Dr. John Smith and Rose Tyler both work at the Natural History Museum in London, he’s a scientist and she works in the gift shop. They are only friends, but the upcoming staff Christmas party promises developments they’ve both been longing for. However, John and Rose end up stuck with Martha, Donna and Jack in the laboratory, and shenanigans ensue: decontamination showers, cocktails in beakers, a game of truth-or-dare and a Secret Santa rigged by meddling friends.

Tags: mutual pining, friends to lovers, fluff with light angst, found family

Rating: Teen (for now)�� | Words:11556

@doctorroseprompts

Ao3

The click of doors unlocking interrupted their celebration and made everyone run to the railing to watch the entrance below. Kate Stewart entered the laboratory. She wasn’t wearing a hazmat suit, which must mean….

“You’re safe,” she declared.

Palpable relief washed over the group.

Rose’s stomach untangled. She covered her mouth with her hand, laughing shakily. She had to call her mum.

She turned to John, he was all loud cheers and big grin. He grabbed Rose around the waist in a hug that lifted her off the floor.

When he put her back down, his hands lingered at her waist, and hers on his shoulders.

Kate joined them up in the gallery.

She gave some scientific information they all seemed to understand except Rose. She gathered the substance was not harmful to humans.

Kate handed them an information sheet. “Just in case, be on the lookout for symptoms on this list. Call the number at the bottom if you have any concerns.”

Jack was out the door before she’d even finished talking. Martha, Donna and John left in different directions, to call relatives or pick up their coats and keys.

Rose should have hurried outside too, but she dawdled, feeling oddly nostalgic. She shut down the monitor and covered the leftover food with plastic wrap.

She was aware of John’s spearhead left on the corner of the table, but couldn’t look at it.

She felt bad for disliking it. She appreciated its monetary value, if not its sentimental one. She wished he hadn’t just picked something off his shelf; her gift dealt with in an efficient manner, then dismissed.

Donna carried Rose’s backpack from her office and up the stairs. She had something else in her hand, too.

“I thought you should know, this is what John was going to give you.”

Donna unrolled a poster with a beautiful map of the world in neon colours. She explained how he’d made it using UV light and special proteins.

It was perfect, bright and creative and just so special. Yet it only added to Rose’s frustration.

“I don’t know why he changed his mind. He really likes you, Rose.”

“But not enough to tell me himself.”

“Or so much it scares him.”

“Well, he knows where to find me if he needs help with that too.” She sighed, regretting her snark. She was tired. “I suppose it’s because of what happened to his parents.”

“What about them?”

He hadn’t confided in Donna, but he had in her. Maybe that meant something. And yet, Rose couldn’t help but remember once again how she’d fooled herself into believing Jimmy’s behaviour meant more than it did.

From the gallery, Rose could see across the lab, down into John’s office. He was still there, talking on the phone.

Her heart softened for him, as it always did.

Perhaps, for once, she should be the one going to him. In her determination to not misread any signals, she’d forgotten to send out her own.

---

As she approached the Doctor’s office, she overheard his conversation with the airline.

“Were you able to book another flight?” she asked after he’d hung up.

“Yes. Later tonight.” He hesitated. “The Mendoza team is counting on me. I can’t let them down.”

“Hey, you don’t need to explain yourself to me. I go out of my way to avoid the street where my dad was killed.”

He nodded and offered a sympathetic smile.

“It’s important work I’m doing every year. I’m helping out labs with less means to preserve their own history.”

“I believe you. I’ll see you in three weeks, then. Drop by the shop as soon as you can. I fully expect you to use those vouchers.”

“I don’t know,” he joked, “maybe if you sweeten the deal with your employee discount.”

“I think that could be arranged.”

“Good. Looking forward to it.”

“Me too.”

Rose shuffled her feet and wrung her hands. John rearranged random items on his messy desk.

“I think I need your help,” she stammered.

“Yes, of course! What do you need? What can I do?”

“I’m not quite sure how to get money out of this.” She held out the spearhead.

John sprang to action. He sent her links to trusted auction sites, wrote a description of the item for her and hunted down the original authenticity certificate.

She had to stop him when he got trapped, elbow-deep in a filing cabinet.

“It’s okay. It can wait.”

“But if you get the money now, you might be able to enroll in time for the winter semester.”

Rose narrowed her eyes at him.

“Did you listen to my conversation with Martha?”

“Er, well, I wasn’t listening so much as voices accidentally reached my ears.”

“Right.”

He sat on the edge of his desk, his long legs stretched in front of him and crossed at the ankle.

“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to,” he added.

“S’alright. Explains a lot actually.”

“Listen, I know some professors and uni administrators and how to get financial aid.”

“You would help me?”

“Absolutely.”

“And if university isn’t what I want? I mean, I haven’t even got my A-levels.”

He shrugged. “You deserve all your dreams to come true, whatever they are. You’re brilliant, Rose.”

No one had ever said that to her. Not this earnestly.

A lump rose in her throat.

Before she’d found something to say, he offered to walk her home.

“I live in Peckham. That’d be quite a walk.”

“Don’t care.”

---

Fresh air welcomed them outside the Museum. It felt like they’d been trapped inside for years. Early dusk painted the sky a soft lavender, and fluffy snowflakes drifted down over them.

After a few steps, John took Rose’s gloved hand. She smiled and tightened her fingers over his. They laughed shyly for no other reason than the sheer pleasure of having their affection reciprocated.

In front of the Museum’s ice rink, John babbled on about bronze-age skates made from animal shins and references to skiing found in writings of the Han dynasty, in China. Joined hands swinging between them, they laughed more than the fun facts warranted. Their hearts felt as light as the snowflakes floating down from the sky. Simply put, they were utterly giddy.

They strolled down a quiet street. Decorations twinkled in windows and relatives greeted each other at the door.

John’s pace slowed down, his gaze turned inward and unfocused.

“I think I might call my former foster family,” he said at last, glancing at Rose for approval.

“Sounds like a great idea. You were close to them?”

He nodded. “The last ones I lived with, they really encouraged me to study. I even had a sister, of sort, Sarah Jane.” He smiled at the memory. “She was a Smith too. We used to pretend we were real siblings… I should’ve kept in touch.”

“Never too late for that.”

They passed by a tube station without stopping. Street lights switched on one after the other, as if only for them. They would have to part ways soon. It was a long ride to cousin Mo’s house, and he had a flight to catch.

At the gate of a quiet garden square, Rose stopped walking. They still held hands, and she fiddled with the cuff of his jacket.

“You remembered Jack’s dare, didn’t you?” she asked him.

“Uh, vaguely. Well, most of it. Where was he keeping that mistletoe?”

Rose waited a beat, but he didn’t say anything else.

“John, you know what you were saying about helping make my dreams come true?”

“Yeah?”

He stepped closer. Her breath quickened. She licked her lips, and his gaze flicked to her mouth.

“Well, maybe there’s a dream you, uh, you could…”

“What?” His face split into a grin. He clicked his jaw. He knew full well what she was trying to say.

“You could kiss me. Shut up.”

She looked away, but John’s hand on her cheek brought her eyes back to him. He opened his mouth, probably to say something smart-arse again. Instead, Rose grabbed his scarf and pulled him down to her. Cold nose tips met pink cheeks. He laughed against her lips. Their arms wrapped around each other, bringing their bodies together, as close as their winter coats allowed.

Rose forgot the cold and the passersby, she forgot it was Christmas Eve. Her hand in his hair knocked off his beanie. A tiny whimper came from the back of his throat, and she found herself with her back to the garden gate being thoroughly kissed. It was probably a good thing they were wearing so many layers.

When they broke the kiss, he rested his forehead on hers. The clouds on their breath mingled.

“Now I regret booking another flight,” John whispered.

“You’d better not forget me whilst you’re gone, mister.” She poked him in the chest playfully.

“Haven’t stopped thinking about you since the day we met— I doubt I will after that kiss.”

“Let’s give you plenty to think about, then.”

She rose to her tiptoes and kissed him again. An unforgettable kiss.

#ficandchips #ten x rose #doctor x rose #Christmas fluff #finished but stay tuned for a bonus smutty chapter #lostinfic writes stuff

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alligaytorswamp · 3 years

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yellow , green , blue, turquoise , onyx , fuchsia , cream , mauve ( also genshin) & plum B)))

hey hi hello >:)

green: do you have a favourite flower?

nah i dont differentiate them.. every flower is just a flower to me jkhasjkdhkj...

if the flower is purple it gets extra points tho

blue: preferred type of weather?

rain!!! thunderstorms!!! <333

turquoise: favorite sea animal?

penguins or turtles :p

onyx: do you still play Minecraft?

nope, never did

fuchsia: favorite land animal?

cream: any piercings or tattoos? do you want any?

i have a helix one but it got fucked up.. so it looks weird :(

would love to fix it one day.. or maybe get rid of it completely hhh

no tattoos but i want some yes heheeheh

some longer answers will be under the cut jkahdsjkad

plum: a food you've never tried

oi.. dats like a lot of things... ;;

well I've never had anything "Chinese"/"Mexican"/idk what else people mention in a similar manner... i hear English-speaking folks refer to these.. "types" and yep never had any of that. also like.. any food chains that just don't exist in Russia? obv nope......... there is probably an insane amount of stuff I haven't tried, I'm picky and literally just eat at home 99% of the time so-

yellow: name of an artist you think is underappreciated

gonna give a dumb ass answer but... i can't...? i don't really know how much one should be "appreciated", like what is the "right amount" and whether or not this person receives it. the amount of notes/likes doesn't always represent that and also i don't look there at all.. also this one random artist can have multiple accs on different platforms with different engagements and all that... so how do i really know what's up with them? and once again i don't think i sit around thinking Damn this person needs more likes !! .. i just like/rb whatever i want and it's epic lashdjlksajdlk also i'm not sure if i have strong attachments to certain creators.. (at this point that is. i used to and some of it backfired lmao) ... the only attachments i have r ppl i'm friends with which is U Know... considered the right answer to this question and an adequate person would do just that but damn none of yall getting a free promo wtf 🙄 and i feel like mentioning one friend could lead to upsetting another or like .. i could just forget to tag someone... or I would waste time trying to figure out if it would be ok to mention them in an ask like this one and probably would decide against it anyways just not to bother anybody ....

and is getting tagged in a post saying u r underappreciated even a compliment? because i for one am not too sure about that........... much to think about uh huh

mauve: any unpopular opinions?

we entered danger zone.................... beware :з

uhhh well first of all I think childe x zhongli is like the most pathetic and boring "default" pairing this fandom came up with. they have 0 chemistry and I just hate everything about it. as much as I headcanon both as queers... together romantically it feels like 2 straight men put together by ya*i fans............ also before i blacklisted to ship and voluntarily looked through the ship tag... every post felt like a hard ooc. i could not understand what childe or zhongli are supposed to be as individuals, what they have in common, what kind of dynamic they have. deadass most crack ships with 0 interactions have more flavor than this tragedy

eng VAs are great people and appreciate their work but whoever decides the voices ain't doing it right. every male character sounds like a middle-aged white man.. and most of the youngest characters sound like very obvious adults trying to pretend to be babies. all of it irks me so bad god.. and there are so many characters that lose their little spark in eng........ (yet in korean and chinese they're completely fine??)

all of the playable adult male characters are shitty people in one way or another. none of them are good. they have reasons and different perspectives, yes, but they suck. every single one of them. stop ignoring it or trying to say only some are evil. none of them are inherently terrible.. but they're not these precious and righteous individuals. they're men.................... that says a lot, actually. :\

and as for women? god i hate the idea that they're all so uninteresting and weak. lichrally just a bunch of girlbosses, morals of most could be questioned as well... anyways some of the girls not having extremely dramatic stories doesn't make them any less cool. let them be

also all archons suck it's ok. you can still love them while acknowledging that they've done some shit. ALSO stop demonizing venti .. and now baal, while praising zhongli- he's an old loser stop lying to yourself. i hate when people present him as the only good archon, the voice of reason who is just so cool and collected but also ahh so cutely silly about mora !!!............. bitch the story quest of liyue is just one zhongli-is-a-fucking-moron campaign idk did yall skip it or something............ and even then it's ok to like him, he does have his logic/reasons/beliefs that justify his actions... he is not a good guy or archon tho.

shipping archons/adepti/whatever the fuck that isn't a basic human with a basic human is super weird. i mean the power dynamic will be completely fucked and ages? lord almighty... basically mortals should stay with mortals... the rest goes to baby jail except maybe ganyu she's a good girl

uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh idk what else.................

maybe.. ahha... well.............. with how people hype up any vague new character that is leaked and declare how they will skip every banner ever for them - even tho all we know is... how the character looks like? it feels a bit too much. like truly what's the point of going crazy and then screaming at mihoyo every 3 seconds over some character that could be fake for all we know, or maybe they'll be a support you don't need, or they have a weapon you don't like to use.... can't you just wait till we get official info? jesus lawd- but regardless.......................... where is the same energy for baizhu :)

the man is literally in the game and people manage to forget him even in conversations about dendro specifically- how the fuck is that even real-

thanks for watching everybody don't forget to subscribe smash that like button and hit the notification bell ^_^

#now this is a lot adlaksjdlk #SORRY #also thank u ahjskadhdjskahdjksahdkj #ask adry #rottfestt #ask game

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strayficks · 5 years

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EPHEMERAL 2 • JAEHYUN

Tysm for anons who had given me ideas!! and my asks is always open, feedback would be greatly appreciated ✊🥺💝

Part(s): 1 . 2 . 3

Genre: smut ✌

Pairings: bad boy!Jung Jaehyun × fem reader.

Jaehyun couldnt stop thinking about her. When Mark asked him what he was doing that night, he didnt say anything. He stayed vague and silent about it.

Maybe it’s the fact that he wants her to himself, or the fact that he always gets turned on everytime he thinks of her. Either way, Jaehyun found her interesting. When she left Jaehyun alone at the park, he watched her leave with nothing but confusion on his mind. Still, Jaehyun doesnt know her name yet.

He asked about her to Yukhei, he’s the last person Jaehyun trusted about telling things about her, but he’s the only person that knows about these things. To no avail, Yukhei doesnt recognize her. Jaehyun tried to describe her as best as possible. ‘Like.. this tall, she smokes, bold as fuck. Are you sure you dont know her?’ Jaehyun had asked Yukhei.

Yukhei stayed silent when he asked it, but when Yukhei asked him if she has her nose pierced, Jaehyun was esctatic. ‘Yeah, she’s my friend’s friend. Dont know her name. You definitely have a type, man.’ Does Jaehyun really? He had been on a couple relationships, but her? He had never met someone like her. So fascinating, so.. brave and alluring.

He cant stop thinking about her since she sucked him off at the park, sure, the sex was a bonus and all, but he’s hooked. Adamant on finding her again. But Jaehyun doesnt know what he’s going to do if he did meet her again. Probably have a nice little talk, or fuck her again until she came. The words rung in his head. ‘No’ she had said.

Jaehyun knew that was a lie the moment it came out her mouth. He rembered her legs being wobbly after he was out of her, the way her cunt tightened around his cock the same time he came. She’s a tease it seems. So when Yukhei told Jaehyun that there’s a party going on on friday, mentioning that his friend will come and the possibility that the pierced girl tag along, he was more than eager to meet her again.

“Fuck no!”

“Fuck yes! Look at yourselves.”

Jihyo rolled her eyes at your response. Your dress was the least conservative out of the group, even though it hugged every inch of your body as if it were a second skin, the girlsbdresses, however, consisted of much less fabric than yours. Ryunjin’s pink slip dress hugs her ass so well, and Jihyo’s little red number exposed so much cleavage you thought you were going to go blind if you stared too long.

Though they were barely covered, you had strange feeling that plenty of other girls at the party would be wearing much less.

The drive to the house was short, but the crowd to get into it went down the block and wrapped around the corner. There were a few cries as the the three of you entered the room. All eyes were on the three, well, mainly you and you know it. Some gazes are filled with lust and admiration, some filled with envy and jealousy. People dont affect you. In fact, their stares and whispers only made you more confident. You pulled your most charming smile, raised your chin and swayed your hips as you walked.

“I should’ve plucked your eyebrows if i knew this much people stare at you on a daily basis, Y/N.” Ryunjin snickered beside you as she nudged her shoulders with yours.

You fake a pained expression as you put a hand on your chest.

“How dare you! My eyebrows are better untouched!”

You felt Jihyo’s delicate hand squeeze your arm as she looked to a spot, a look on her face as she opened her mouth to speak.

“Fucking hell. It’s Hyunjin.”

That was when you saw him. Maybe you were hallucinating, but standing less than fifteen feet away with his arm around some random brunette and his eyes locked on you was the last person you wanted to see.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t Jung Jaehyun like you hoped. You stood frozen as you watched Hwang Hyunjin shove the girl away, not noticing the dirty look you gave him in response. Even if he had noticed, he probably wouldn’t have cared. It wasn’t like he had a heart. Hyunjin had been the main reason behind your sudden change of look, your ‘bad girl’ nature.

Your one year of involvement with him had resulted in you being arrested for various crimes, nearly being expelled from yet another school, losing your virginity in the backseat of his Jeep, and ultimately getting your heart shattered when you found him sleeping with your supposed best friend. To put it lightly, Hwang Hyunjin had kind of ruined your life, and now here he was.

Dont get it wrong. You changed because you wanted to. You realized that you need to change, and you did. You turned into a butterfly and you were free without him. If you hadn’t dated him, you wouldnt be the person you are now, and somehow you were thankful. Because without him, you wouldnt be able to grow up and snap out of the fantasy that you dreamed of.

“At least i look fucking hot tonight.” You said nonchalantly, “Gonna get a drink, be right back.”

Every muscle in Jaehyun’s body seemed to relax upon entering the core of the party, realizing that maybe this was just what he needed.

Yuta noticed the change in mood and clapped a hand on his friend’s back before leading him over to get some drinks. For a long while the duo chatted and drank as they observed the guests who had made an appearance. He took a moment to admire the girls all around them, smirking as his eyes drifted over their bare limbs and glistening skin, but Yuta seemed to be too preoccupied staring at two to even notice the other girls that Jaehyun pointed out.

“Damn,” Yuta murmured. “Those two get hotter every day.”

Jaehyun laughed. “Having fantasies about the those two again, Yuta?”

“How could I not? Doesn’t every guy fantasize about having a threesome?”

“Not really my thing.” Still, he gave Yuta a hard slap on the back.

“But if it’s yours…” Yuta’s grin was brilliant in the darkness

“Hell yes it is.” Soon he was shoving his half-full drink into Jaehyun’s hand and pushing away from the bar.

“If things go according to plan, don’t expect to see me for the rest of the night.” Considering the challenge, Jaehyun expected to see his friend back here in no time. Still, he wasn’t about to sit all night.

Decision made, Jeahyun stepped away from the safety of the bar and made his way into the crowd. It took a few moments to find a decent looking girl in a midriff-baring top, but soon he was pulling her close and joining the writhing mass of movement.

Sadly, it didn’t take long before he was bored again. He gently released the girl on his arm and threaded his way through the crowd again, searching for something a little more entertaining, but the passage of another twenty minutes and a handful of girls left him disappointed.

‘Where is she?’ He muttered to himself. As if on cue, Jaehyun was startled when Yukhei’s hand landed on his shoulder.

“That girl you were looking for? She’s here. Her friends told me just now.” He said, nodding to the two girls chatting with Yuta.

Jaehyun’s heart leaped when he saw her. How he hadn’t noticed the girl before was mystery, but now he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away. She was leaning against the far wall of the room, a drink in her hand and pure boredom plastered across her face. Her dress clung to her figure in all the right places. It wasn’t until she met his gaze that Jaehyun realized how long he had been staring, still attempting to place her.

Part of him was tempted to look away and pretend like he’d never seen her, but she glanced away before he could even try. He watched as she smirked and passed her empty drink off to nearby partygoer, and had to wonder if it was him she’d been looking at in the first place.

However, those doubts quickly faded when she began moving in his direction. Jaehyun took a hesitant step forward, but even that small shift had caused him to lose her in the crowd. It didn’t help that a new group of girls had surrounded him, each pressing themselves against him in half-assed hugs. He barely avoided being snagged by one of the girls’ black talons as he turned in the opposite direction, praying he’d be able to escape them unscathed.

Unfortunately, the move caused him to bump straight into a pissed-off Hwang Hyunjin

“Watch where you’re going, asshole,” Hyunjin snarled, that hideous lip-piercing glinting under the lights. In an instant Jaehyun’s mood went from vaguely content to sour, all because this sorry excuse for a human decided to open his mouth. So instead of letting him pass, Jaehyun squared his shoulders and stood his ground.

“I think you should leave,” he said, nodding towards the exit Hyunjin’s lips twitched into a sneer.

“Excuse me?”

“Just get the fuck out the party.”

“I’m not leaving,” Hyunjin replied, hitching his chin up in defiance.

“Not until my ex-girlfriend explains why she’s h-”

“I don’t give a damn about you, Hwang,” Jaehyun finally exploded, all traces of patience fleeing.

“Either you walk out that door right now and keep your dignity, or I call the boys and have them throw you out. Your choice.”

Hyunjin’s eyes flitted to something Jaehyun’s shoulder, but he didn’t take the bait to see what had captured Hyunjin’s attention. Instead he waited until the other boy scowled and turned sharply on his heel, stalking towards the exit.

A glance to his left revealed the girl he’d been staring at earlier dancing as if no one was watching with her arms high above her head as her hips swayed to the beat. It didn’t take much to convince himself to go over to her, hoping she could make his night better.

A few steps brought Jaehyun up behind her and he settled a hand on her waist, letting the other drift down to her hips. The girl glanced over her shoulder, offering Jaehyun a slow, unsurprised smile that made his stomach twist into knots.

“You showed him,” she teased, obviously referring to his run in with Hyunjin, her head falling back onto his shoulder He could smell the alcohol on her breath, but her softly drawled words brought a smile to his lips

“You came, you never told me you knew Yukhei.” he murmured, pulling her closer as the heavy bass line resounded in his chest.

Her response caused him to flirt with the notion that this could be Hyunjin’s ex-girlfriend, but the fact that her hips were now grinding against his own made any other concern that didn’t involve getting her into bed disappeared. Jaehyun lost track of time while they dancing.

The music was good, company, and the fact that they’d hardly exchanged any words was even better. The passage of what seemed like an eternity had brought and now jaehyun was finding it hard to move without stumbling or bumping into a neighboring person.

But seemed like the girl having the same problem. He was practically the only thing keeping her from going down in those heels, his arm wrapped possessively around her waist as her hips pressed hard against his.

“Come home with me,” Jaehyun whispered against her ear, hands sliding down her hips. The girl leaned back just enough to meet his eye.

“Why should I?”

“Because you want this as much as I do- and i want to make you cum.”

His hands were on her thighs now, fingers inching up under the material of her dress. It only took her a moment, but she grabbed his hand and smiled, taking a shaky step backward as she tugged on his hand.

“Then let’s go.” Hand in hand they stumbled out of the house and onto the sidewalk, her giggles echoing down the busy street.

When she realized she had no idea where she was going, Jaehyun took the lead and guided her another block or so down the street to the dormitory. Jaehyun felt her hand slip out of his once they were alone, before he even thought to question it, her mouth was on his and there was no more time for words. A shiver rolled down his spine as she pressed herself against him. The door slammed shut with enough force to shake the room as they staggered towards the bed, his fingers finally managing to snag the minuscule zipper of her dress and yank it down, though much to his chagrin it didn’t instantly pool at her feet.

Her throaty chuckle made it obvious that she was well aware of his annoyance, and the fact that she was doing nothing to help him out only made it worse.

Before he could even think to voice his displeasure, her lips were on his and they were suddenly falling onto the bed, soft pillows absorbing the shock of the fall.

Even though the actual impact hadn’t hurt, something sharp had scraped his cheek, and Jaehyun turned his head to break the kiss, swatting her hands away, he reached up to touch the small cut on his face, startled when he drew back to find blood on his fingers.

His eyes darted up to the girl straddling him, but her gaze was trained on the red-specked spiked ring on her finger. It took her a moment to put two and two together, but a sheepish grin spread over her face when she realized her jewelry had been the culprit.

“Sorry,” she murmured insincerely, slipping the ring off her finger and tossing it to the side as if it were a mere toy.

“Let me make it up to you.”

You met Jaehyun again. You were surprised but surely not disappointed. You chuckle to yourself, remembering Hyunjin’s face after he was kicked out by Jaehyun. You slid your bra off and exposed your breasts to him, you felt him slowly slide his hands up your waist, sending shivers through your body, until his hands cupped both your mounds. His eyes were completely trained on your peaks, watching them like they were more valuable than anything in the world.

“So you know Yukhei?” Without replying to your question, he leaned in and sucked one nipple into his mouth, causing you to gasp and arch your back. He flicked his tongue slowly against it, torturing you

“God,” you moaned, curling your toes when his teeth taunted your hard nipple, sharply biting into it, causing a zing of delicious pain to shoot through you.

“Ah, Jae..”

The flick of his tongue and the squeeze of his palm made moisture flow to your core and soak your already soaking panties. Beneath you, you could feel his erection growing, pressing against said core, almost as if it knew where it wanted to go all by itself. The suspense was killing you.

“Jaehyun,” you moaned again when he switched to your other breast, giving it the same amount of attention with his and teeth. Finally pulling away from you, kneeling above you as Jaehyun looked down at your underwear.

“Fuck, youre gorgeous,” He noted in a deep, aroused voice. His eyes lustfully trailed over your figure, your skin, down to the spot between your legs. You felt scorched.

“But I think I’m going to need to take it off you.”

“Only if you take off those, too,” you rebuffed and eyed his briefs where behind the cotton. You could see a very large bulge making a tent out of the fabric.

“Fair trade,” He said and then split his mouth into a panty dissolving smirk, before he begun tugging at his briefs.

You begun working on your panties as well, but had to stop when he stepped off the bed to discard his briefs, allowing your full view of his-ahem ‘Cock.’ Heart beating rapidly, you couldn’t help but stare. He was thick and gloriously erect, the head of him glistening with precum.

The heavy sac underneath was what thoroughly finished him off as being the biggest you had ever seen, you havent taken a good look when you first had sex with him at the park, but seeing him now, damn, He has such a beautiful cock.

You deftly stepped out of your panties and then walked up to Jaehyun again. You were now completely naked. His hands came around your legs and smoothed their way up to the rounds of your ass.

He cupped your butt like two delicious, juicy fruits and then squeezed them hard, causing a moan to rip from your throat. You grasped onto his shoulders for support and then let out a startled squeak when he ceased you and hurled you around on the bed. You landed flat on her back, and not one moment later, Jaehyun was on you.

“Jae, oh shit!” You gasped and then cried out a moan when he parted your legs and buried his face in your cunt.

A small scream rippled from your throat and you desperately clutched onto his shoulders as Jaehyun pushed his tongue into your core and made your stomach pool with heat. All your nerve endings seemed to meet when he moved up to your clit and flicked the sensitive bud before sucking it into his mouth, rolling it in between his teeth.

He lapped up all your juices while all you could do was writhe, scream, and pray that the sex-gods would show you mercy tonight, because this is going to be a wild one.

He suddenly flung your legs over his broad shoulders as you hazily opened your eyes from the ecstacy. The sound of the foil being ripped can be heard as he positioned himself in front of your entrance.

“You said you didnt cum? I wont hold back this time.” He stated. automatically cinching hips. His mouth found yours again, dominating you once more. She gripped onto his shoulders, dragging your fingers up through his hair.

And then in a wild thrust, he was inside you. You cried out, Jaehyun ramming into you hard and repeatedly. You hung onto him, your lips parting in hitched breaths. You clawed your nails down his chest, just like his teeth bit into your neck.

“Fuck, Jaehyun!” You hollered, throwing your head back, you couldn’t control your movements. He was hitting you so good, exploding stars started decorating your vision.

He felt so deep and so perfectly, long and thick inside you.His aggressiveness had you pining for him. Hard was the only way you wanted it. For now, anyway. Both your mouths found each other again and Jaehyun savored every part of you, the fast, furious strokes of his cock inside you quick. You could feel herself get close, you manage to corak out, letting him know what he’s doing to you.

“Jae… fuck, almost there, yes, oh fuck, yeeeees!” Jaehyun pounded into you grunting while you dipped your head deeper into his bed. Even then, high, pitchy sounds kept coming out of your mouth in short breaths as he fucked you into oblivion.

His fingers drilled into you breast, leaving more bruises as his hips and strokes finally pushed him over the edge well, joining you in your climax, his bldy going rigid as you felt the muted splurts of his cum inside you.

“Hey…maybe we can go get coffee sometime?” he offered, simply just trying to catch his breath. Sweat and bite marks covered both your bodies, scratches down Jaehyun’s back as well.

“I have to get back to my friends, they’re probably looking for me.” You said gruffly, an excuse just flung put of your mouth. Picking up your discarded clothing on the floor. Your voice was unattached, like you wanted it.

“Wait- at least tell me your name.” You pulled away from him, forcing him to let go of you. You then quickly put on your bra and dress, palming you panties in your hand while Jaehyun simply just stood there, trying to comprehend what just happened. You then ran a hand through your hair, straightening it, not regarding him with a look, for some reason. You looked like you were going to leave without saying anything at all. Jaehyun frowned.

“Wha- why…” The words froze on his tongue when your eyes met his. You quickly gave your panties to his open palm, covering it with yours as he grasped it tightly, a coy smirk on his plumb lips, the scratch on his cheek still apparent.

“It’s Y/N, I’ll see you around.” And then you stepped around him and slipped out of the room. Closing the door behind you.

#jung jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun #nct 127 smut #nct imagines #nct 127 #nct smut #nct jaehyun #jung yoonoh #jung yoonoh smut #jaehyun smut

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atopearth · 4 years

Text

Final Fantasy VII Remake Part 3 - The “Death” of Avalanche (Ch 12-14)

Seeing an extended version of the Avalanche members’ dying is going to be terrible. I think the fact that Wedge calls Cloud “aniki” is so cute, so it’ll be sad that this is the last time we’ll hear it. My heart kinda broke for Biggs tbh. Seeing him entrust the future to Cloud, and for him to think about the Leaf House orphanage kids even during his dying moments was saddening. I remember being so surprised at Ms Folia (the orphanage teacher + Honeybee dancer) saying that the one who taught her everything and inspired her to be who she is was Biggs. I knew he had a big heart and cared for everyone, but it was nice that they added in all these other little things about him. I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle Jessie’s death tbh. It’s going to be heartbreaking!!

Aerith going to save Marlene is something I looked forward to seeing, and I think it showed really well how gentle of a heart Aerith has, and how self sacrificing she is. Especially when she encouraged Wedge to not give up and allow himself to have regrets for not doing more. I like that the Shinra soldier Wedge passionately convinced into opening the gates to leave Sector 7 for everyone to escape was the newbie soldier that was kinda in training and couldn’t be mean to anyone (when you talked to him before this). It’s understandable that he would be the one to go against orders. Nice to see Tseng! He looks pretty good. On the other hand, Rude interfering with Reno so that his gun would miss Tifa was hilarious. I love that they kept the idea that Rude likes Tifa, I guess they’ll be keeping the idea that Tseng likes Aerith too then! Elena liking Tseng is something expected though since it’s a big part of her character imo haha. Btw, I’m glad that Reno recognised how tasteless it was to have to do the pretend act that this whole destroying Sector 7 thing was done by Avalanche. Anyway, Aerith convincing Marlene to come out and leave with her was adorable~

It was hard to see Jessie go again, especially when she talked about how she kinda “deserved” it considering the amount of people she killed with her bombs, which was something that always stuck with me in the dialogue of the original. Despite Jessie’s hopes for the future and everything, she knew what what she was doing involved the deaths of a lot of people, innocent and guilty alike, she always felt terrible about it, but she wasn’t as soft as Tifa to think about giving up on it. She took those burdens with her to achieve what she needed to, so it’s heartbreaking that she had to die thinking that. It was saddening yet cute when Cloud said Jessie owed him a pizza, so she can’t die haha. It’s too bad that it’ll never happen. Sometimes I wonder if the reason they all like pizza is because of how Barret refers to the plates above them as a “pizza”, so they like to eat them up hahahaha, nah just kidding, pizza is good, everyone loves pizza.Seeing Reno and Rude tag team fight was so cool! I loved how Reno still had that skill that puts you into the triangle barrier to kinda immobilise you. Otherwise, Reno is so difficult for me to handle lolll, I suck fighting against him. And Rude hits Tifa when you control her!! Although he kinda just does a light chop to her, not sure if it’s specific to her but it was kinda cute lol because it honestly seemed like he was taking it easy against her compared to other battles when we faced him. Seriously though, I think it’s so annoying how those “ghosts” always interfere at crucial moments, it’s like, it wasn’t in the original game and it’s honestly unneeded here. The truth is that Cloud and them were unable to stop the plate from falling regardless of whether those ghosts were there or not, it’s annoying to make it seem like they could have stopped Rude if they weren’t there, when in reality, it shows (in the original) a much crueller way of looking at things when you try your best but you’re still too late. We don’t need no supernatural phenomenon to make it seem like it’s at fault and that’s why Cloud and them failed! Yes, I rolled my eyes when they appeared because at this point, I’ll admit that I’m sick of them. It’s like how they ruined Aerith and Cloud’s first meeting with them! I only wanted sweetness and curiosity towards a flower girl, not mystery with these supernatural things I don’t care about! Sigh!

Anyway, seeing Tifa and Barret broken over not being able to save their home and its people was saddening. Maybe it’s nostalgia or whatever, but I think it hit me harder in the original though. Btw, it’s kinda funny but understandable that instead of Tseng flying near the explosion to kinda show that they’ve captured Aerith etc, Tseng tells them through the screen haha. Gotta protect the Ancient! Oh, and Sephiroth honestly appears way too much, I honestly don’t remember him being so apparent, I know they’re really just the numbered black robe guys, but I feel like back then it was mostly just Cloud feeling the effects of something, but not being very clear on what it is. Now we’re just stuck with an overbearing Sephiroth zzz, yes there’s such a thing as too much Sephiroth. I guess it’s nice that it kinda explicitly tells you through them that Sephiroth thinks/believes/insists he’s got Ancients’ blood running through him, so he’s the rightful ruler of the planet though. Really though, with the plate falling, you can really understand the helplessness and fear of the people under the plates (through the NPCs talking in the background), it’s like, wow, they can actually fall and destroy everyone?! It kinda shows that regardless of how great Shinra is in giving people “better lives”, Shinra is also essentially in control of their lives. Oh yeah!! And Cait Sith!! Did not expect to see him! It felt weird without his white doll (since I used to think the white doll was him until I realised there was a cat on top lmao), but it was nice to see how *spoilers* Reeve tried to do something about Sector 7 in both forms. Seeing Cait Sith devastated at the sight was pretty saddening. But I have to admit, imagining Reeve controlling it and making it fall to the ground is funny yet interesting loll.

Omg, how old is Tseng?! Aerith is like this little kid and he’s an adult already?! I never realised there was such a big age difference.. Anyway, kid Aerith is adorable. Elmyra’s story is always saddening to hear, but I think the original showed it a bit better, mainly the train station part. I remember in the original, you could really feel the sadness of Elmyra through the contrasted happiness of the people beside her at the train station who were overjoyed at seeing the people they were waiting for come home to them. And it slowly shows how nearly everyone who was waiting there was able to reunite with their loved ones, everyone except her who waited every day there. I feel like she even asked the train station attendant if there were any more trains or people too. Her taking in Aerith healed her and herself, so honestly, I’ve always been happy that they both had each other to lean on for so many years. But yeah, otherwise, seeing Ifalna (HD) and everything was nice. It’s interesting that Aerith needs to be willing to go to them in order to help with their quest in finding the Promised Land, because how exactly do you make her willing?? Hahaha. I mean, she just did it for Marlene so she’s not exactly “willing”. It’s so weird that they didn’t bother adding the line where Barret asks Elmyra to take care of Marlene for him. It’s like, you can’t make him a “caring dad” and not even say something like that before he leaves lol! It’s important!

Okay, I’m glad Wedge is alive, but at the same time, I have mixed feelings towards it haha. It’s nice though, gives Cloud and them more hope I guess. We should all thank cats, they save lives apparently~ On the other hand, Aerith appearing in Cloud’s dream was…very interesting. Like, it was nice, but at the same time weird loll. Especially when she told him that if they seemed like they were attracted to each other romantically, it probably wasn’t real. I honestly didn’t need that, especially when I feel like the Tifa fanservice coupling is everywhere and more apparent than with Aerith imo. I felt like the romance with Tifa was more vague in the beginning for the original. Anyway, Cloud was right, Aerith can’t just one-sidedly say all that and just leave, he should have his say too, especially since these are his feelings! And tbh, although Tifa and Cloud are super comfortable with each other and rely on each other, I feel like a lot of the times, they feel like trustworthy friends more in the remake imo. I think what solidifies (for me) how much Cloud cherishes Aerith was when he said he’d take her home again (lmao) after she showed him the way to Sector 7, enough concern over her safety with Don Corneo that he would cross dress, and his reaction when Aerith shows up with the extravagant red dress. He was so stunned at how beautiful she was! To be fair though, I was pretty stunned too, until I realised I better take screenshots lmao. Overall though, Cloud is constantly saving and taking care of all the girls, it’s kinda crazy. Like, I know he may be Prince Charming but c'mon! Only Tifa gets to be cool whereas the other girls get saved wayyyy too much whether it be from random falls or whatever. I also feel like Elmyra stopping them from going to save Aerith felt more like an unnecessary plot delay to squish in the Wedge part, but oh well lol, time for Shinra building time! Can’t wait to see Red XIII!

Or not, I’m stuck doing side quests lmao. Those pull ups were more annoying than squats zzzz, but they were okay I guess. Didn’t take that long to win the pro. The most annoying thing was that letting the pull up timer go on (when I obviously failed) was faster than the stupid loading screen when I press give up lol. Mireille being the Angel of the Slums was expected I guess, although I was never curious anyway haha. Kyrie is kinda cute but annoying lol. Kinda sad that I don’t actually get to ride on a Chocobo though….like I found all those lost chocobo and yet I don’t actually get to ride them? T_T Wow, I can’t believe the behemoth horn was used for medicine!! What kind of medicine are they making??! It was a hassle to kill that guy! Lmao tonberry is as cute and deadly as it usually is! Kept stabbing me lol! I know I could have probably thrown magic at it, but I thought it was hilarious to see it stab me lmao. The Colosseum battles were pretty easy, I was kinda worried but all good! Whack-a-box was super easy for the hard mode btw! I was like ohh noo when I saw hard mode thinking it’ll take me a while like the pull ups but dang, third time was the charm! Smashed it!🥰 Hmm, pedometer materia was interesting…lol, super easy to get the 5000 steps since I had to look for those annoying chocobos, but yeah I guess it was worth it! AP Up would be useful. I’m glad the side quests didn’t take too long because I really started considering just dropping them lol.

I’m glad they delved more into Leslie’s backstory, but I guess it was expected since he was the only pretty boy out of all the lackeys lmao. I found Leslie really endearing though, mainly because of his looks and how kind he was to keep warning Cloud and Aerith that they shouldn’t go to the audition haha. It’s saddening that his fiancee was chosen by Corneo and now she has disappeared. I kinda liked how his story interlinked with Cloud and Aerith though. Tifa told Leslie that the flower pendant his fiancee gave back to him before she left meant “we’ll meet again” in flower language, and that’s the flower Aerith gave Cloud, so it’s nice to see how Cloud linked that, and sorta renewed his resolve into finding her asap. It’s nice to know that rather than focusing on finding Corneo to exact his revenge, Leslie is now instead looking for the girl. Good that he’s got his priorities straight. She’s much more important than revenge! Hope we get to see him actually find her in the later parts or something~

Overall, not much to say about these few chapters. I think the running up the stairs/pillar part to save Sector 7 + Wedge, Biggs and Jessie were pretty faithfully done, and it was done pretty nicely too. It felt just as annoying with the monsters/soldiers, whilst being just as saddening with seeing the death of the Avalanche members lol. My only gripe with it was the Whispers popping up ruining the whole mood of the event, it really made it seem like Cloud and them could have changed the outcome that ended up happening but was stopped for “reasons” beyond their control, so they shouldn’t feel too bad about it kinda thing, it just changes the whole “feel” of it. Anyway, the changes with Wedge being alive and the “dream” with Aerith are things I have mixed feelings about. Wedge being alive really, as I kinda said before with the pillar, it changes the mood and atmosphere of everything. Like, it’s not terrible, but what solidified a lot of my feelings towards Avalanche and the dropping of the plate in the original was done with the impact of the deaths of our Avalanche members because they’re the main people we’re familiar with. Anyway, gotta love how (aside from Biggs and Jessie) a lot of the people we’ve seen are alive and well, and lol even the item shop etc people have good stock! Kinda miss the days in the original or in other older JRPGs where shops would follow the story and be lacking in supplies or whatever during times of disaster etc. Anyway, that’s just me being picky as usual lol. And yes, I’m starting to see how A LOT of the scenes involve Cloud and the others saving each other, mainly Cloud saving all the girls, and it’s nice but honestly overdone considering the amount of scenes where it happens. This time around, the changes (from the original) are half half to me, not better, but not exactly terrible I guess. Anyway, now that I’m going through this and reading my thoughts again, this was probably the point when I started thinking about whether I liked the remake for what it is or was I really just banking in on the hype and nostalgia of a favourite game? Honestly, it’s mainly the latter (sadly).

#final fantasy vii remake #ffvii remake #ffvii

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closecry · 5 years

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Trip Of A Lifetime (Vaas x Female Reader)

Also posted on AO3, heed the warnings that are under the cut.

Word Count: 3,491.

This is a soulmate AU, but that doesn't mean it's happy because I tried to write Vaas true to his character.

Warnings: Minor Character Death, Human Trafficking, Misogyny, minor descriptions of violence, and torture.

You have a brother in this who is unnamed and several random female characters that are also unnamed.

This is a dark story! Read with caution.

Tumblr requires me to censor all the f words, a use of the words d*ck, and c**cksucker or it won't show up in tags because it's dumb. If you want a version without that, there is a link to the AO3 at the top.

****

You didn't normally go on vacation. It had been years since your last one, and you don't know why, but when your rich asshole brother offered you the “trip of a lifetime”, you accepted the offer.

He always seemed to travel here with whatever girlfriend he had at the time and a couple of friends. Normal enough.

This year it was with your brother's new girlfriend and her 2 sisters, which you thought was odd, but you didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth.

You and your brother never got along, and you remember vividly him seeming to hate you when you two disagreed on matters. He was kind of misogynistic, but you thought maybe this was him trying to finally bury the hatchet.

In hindsight, maybe you should've just said no when you were given the option.

The island was nice, it was the dry season so it was, well, dry. Incredibly so. It was also hot, and because of it you spent most of your day out on the water in some manner.

You enjoyed jet skiing, fishing, and snorkeling, and it wasn't until that night that it really started going downhill.

You all were enjoying the cool night around a small bonfire you had created, and one of the girls even helped clean and then cook a few fishes she had caught earlier for you all to eat.

It was then that your brother pulled out a bottle of white wine. Innocent enough. What better to wash down the delicious, fresh fish?

You too eagerly accepted a drink, as did the other girls, and within the next 10 minutes you all one by one started dropping like flies. Maybe in hindsight you should've noticed that your brother had kindly denied when his girlfriend teased him about not taking a drink. Maybe that should've tipped you off.

Your head hurt like a bitch when you woke up.

Your eyes open languidly and you look around. Your hands were tied up above you to some bamboo shoots, and f*ck, was this a cage? You see one of the other girls in a similar situation in front of you, although she still looks to be out. Idly, you wonder how much of the drugged wine she had drank. More than you, you're sure.

There were men in red with guns walking around the cage, and you can't help it when you see one with a mohawk make a beeline for the cage with you and the other women in it.

“Hey, bitches, wake the f*ck up!” You hear in a vaguely spanish sounding accent, and motherf*cker you feel those words appear across your hip. This man was your soulmate. “Enough beauty sleep!”

Your eyes open, darting to where you can feel someone starting to bang on the cage, shaking everything in it.

He's the one with the black mohawk, and he has scars on either side of his head. You wonder who was able to get close enough to hurt him like that, as the person likely would have to have been on top of him because of the angle. Former lover maybe?

It's too dark to tell much else about his features immediately, but your mouth goes dry when his eyes meet yours.

The man crouches down next to your cage, next to you in order to get at eye level with you. He grows to have a wide smile on his face as he continues to look at you, and that pisses you off at how happy he looks at the situation.

This. This was your soulmate. This sorry piece of shit who is likely involved in human trafficking was your soulmate. What the f*ck type of luck is that?

You can't help the tears that prick at your eyes. This was how you were going to die, probably. Your soulmate was either going to kill you or sell you… or worse yet, keep you as some sort of pet. You can't imagine any of those options sounding appealing… Actually, at this point, maybe death did rather than the alternatives.

Your heart is racing, and you wonder what's going to happen when you finally speak and he knows who you are to him. What you are to him.

The tears fall down your face and you can see a vague amusement run over the man, the monster's face. “Why are you crying, honey?” He asks, his head tilting in reaction to you and he places his hands on the bars of your cage to lean closer to you.

You can make out more of his face with him being this close, and just like his head- scars litter his face. Some are in groups, but most of them look like scrapes or scratches that didn't heal correctly.

“Because I’m… afraid?” You admit, with a whisper and you see realization come over his eyes. It feels kind of good, to see him finally look as worried as you had felt since you'd woken up.

His eyebrows furrow and you can see his hands curling tighter around the bamboo sticks that make up your cage. He looks like he can't believe it, like you'd grown a second head.

“Vaas? Is there something wrong with that one? I know she’s a little bit of a bitch, but...” You look up and see your brother behind… Vaas.

Vaas cocks his head as soon as he calls you a bitch and you can tell he really doesn't like it, even though he had called you one just moments prior.

Your brother looks afraid of Vaas as he continues. “I can bring another one if you'll wait a few weeks if she doesn't meet your standards.” He says, throwing up his hands in defense.

You watch Vaas push up to a standing position and he pushes against the cage, causing it to almost break under his hands. Vaas turns around and faces your brother and you don't think you've ever seen your brother this scared before in your entire life.

Vaas starts to slowly walk toward him, and your brother backs up, but is met with a group of guards that stop him from continuing after Vaas gives a small whistle and head movement. Vaas was undoubtedly the leader here. That's exactly what that little show told you.

“I can bring 2, if that's what you want!” Your brother says, looking like he's about to have a heart attack as he visibly shakes in the guard's arms. “I can even give you a discount, two for one!”

Vaas only starts to laugh, and it’s so bone chilling that you almost want to look away, but your eyes are drawn to it, to him. “You stupid f*ck, you’re trying to sell me what's already mine!” Vaas grabs your brother’s shirt and headbutts him incredibly hard, and you can see the blood that starts to pool at his nose that is now bent at an angle, where Vaas had obviously just broken it. If he had been standing on his own you imagine he would've fallen.

Vaas pulls a gun out from his holster.

You should probably say something. You should be screaming at him to stop, begging for your brothers life… but you stay silent.

Vaas moves the gun to your brother's head and it's only now you register that the other girls are awake, and they are begging for your brother's life…

Why?

He had tried to sell you to a human trafficker, he got what was coming to him. He was no better than the man pointing a gun against his head. Maybe the wine hadn't worn off completely for them, maybe they were still in a bleary state. They likely don't understand what's going on.

Vaas, instead of just blowing his brains out, moves the gun down to your brother's knee, and pulls the trigger. It all happens so fast, the noise of the gunshot and the girl’s screams are heightened, and you notice his girlfriend is crying the hardest in fear of everything.

Your brother falls to the ground with a shout and Vaas motions for the guards to grab him and pull him back into a standing position.

Your brother screams as the pain you imagine is made worse by the way they're holding him up and forcing him to put pressure on it.

“Shut the f*ck up!” Vaas screams back, getting extremely close to your brother's face. “Stop f*cking screaming!” Vaas says, and then leans in close to whisper something to your brother, and it's only then that he stops screaming in pain.

You can’t imagine what depraved thing he'd whispered to him, but it works.

Vaas starts to walk back over to you, leaning on the entrance to the cage, and motions toward your brother with his gun still in hand. “Who was this c**ksucker to you, hermoso?”

Was. Who was he to you. Vaas was referring to him with past tense verbs. Vaas is planning on killing him.

“...My brother.” You tell him after a moment.

Vaas nods and opens the gate to the cage, looking like he's contemplating his options. He pulls a knife out of his belt and plays with it as he talks. “I have a shitty sister as well, I can get that.” When he leans down to you with a knife in his hand you're confident he's about to kill you, soulmate or not Vaas was f*cking crazy.

Instead, Vaas moves the knife to where your hands are tied up and then stops. “If I untie you, I want you to promise me you're not going to fight me.” Vaas says, running his other hand through your hair to get it out of your face. “I would rather you not see what I'm about to do to your brother.” He admits, and you believe him.

He pauses and gives you a small smirk. “Unless... you want to help me?” The way he says it runs chills down your spine. Vaas seems to really like that idea.

So, you had been right about him wanting to kill your brother. With the way things were going, with how the blood was rushing out of his leg, you doubt he'll survive the next hour.

You don't feel sorry for him, but you do feel afraid of the man in front of you.

“No, I'd rather… go.” You whisper, your voice quiet and shaky. If there was even the barest of chance he would let you go, you would take whatever you could.

He chuckles darkly. “Let me be clear, this isn't an offer to be set free.” His smile doesn't fade, it's incredibly unsettling to see. “It's an offer to avoid watch me kill your brother, hermoso.”

You should've known. How could you get your hopes up around this sociopath? “Okay.” You say, and your eyes drop to the floor.

That’s apparently not good enough for him, judging by the way he shakes his head. “Say the words, ‘I promise I won't run away, or try to fight you, Vaas.’... Do it.” He prompts you, moving your chin up and down in line with the words he’s wanting you to say.

“I promise I won't run away, or try to fight you, Vaas.” You repeat back to him in as monotone of a voice you can, trying to avoid the fear leaking into it. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction. You fail, for the most part.

Vaas nods, that seemingly pleasing him. “That wasn't so hard now, was it?” Your hands fall to your sides with a swift move of his knife, freeing them.

“Hermanos!” Vaas yells toward a few of the guards, catching their attention and motions to where you’re standing. “Take her out to the beach to relax.”

His eyes narrow at them, dangerously, and when he speaks it's almost too quiet for you to hear. Unfortunately, you had always had good hearing. “And if any of you f*ckers lay a finger on her I'll cut every one of your d*cks off and feed them to the dogs.”

Somehow, even though it's a bizarre threat, you honestly believe him and feel like he's done it before. The guards look legitimately afraid by his threat, and because of it you feel somewhat safe… He cared about you in some f*cked up way, and you believed the guards wouldn't try anything because of it.

The walk to the beach is done in almost complete silence. Almost.

There are a total of 5 guards he sends with you, which is 5 too many for your liking... Perhaps he knew you would try to run if you were given the opportunity.

The guards at the back are the only ones that dare to talk, and you wonder if they think you can't speak Spanish, because that's what you hear in their whispers.

“Who do you think she is to Vaas?”

“I think it's his soulmate. I've never seen him act this way around anyone.”

“Is it possible to have a soulmate even if you don't have a soul?”

“She has a nice ass. He's lucky.”

“You better not touch her, though. Vaas’ll kill you."

You wish you didn't know Spanish.

The feel of sand in your shoes isn't entirely unwelcome as you get to the beach. After all, it's better than the alternative of the blood and guts you were kept in at the cages.

The guards eventually let you start to lead as soon as you get to the beach and you decide to just plop down in the sand when you're out of the eyeline of the outpost. In the distance, you can still see a trail of smoke billowing out from the direction of the camp.

Even though you know it's going to do nothing but stress you out further, you decide to look around the other areas where the shoreline turns into forest. There are similar smokestacks as far as the eye could see… even if you escaped, you wouldn't make it far before you hit the next camp.

It's with a heavy heart that you decide to ignore the trees and the dozens of smokestacks, and instead think about anything else.

It's a nice night out, this is the same night sky you had spent watching with your brother and the girls he had brought. You hope they’re okay, but you doubt it.

There are a lot of stars out, and you remember when you were younger when you used to chart them with your brother outside. You don't care if he's okay so much. He'd done this to you. He deserved everything that Vaas gave him.

You end up leaning into the sand and essentially making a small bed for your tired body to lay in.

It's easily 3 or 4 hours by the time Vaas shows up, and you only know it because the full moon has disappeared and the sun is steadily rising on the horizon.

You were sleeping incredibly lightly, and so even the soft noise of him whistling the guards away startles you from your slumber. You move to a sitting position and move to sit cross legged groggily.

The guards fall away and he sits down next to you in the sand, sitting cross legged with his arms bracing his body on either side.

You expect to see him covered in blood. Maybe even have another scar on his face. Guts staining his shirt.

No, he looks… wet. His hair is still drying, that much was obvious, as it's lying flat where it had been spiked into a mohawk earlier.

You're not sure, but you're also fairly confident he's wearing a different pair of clothes as well… They look almost identical to the ones he was wearing. If you hadn't paid attention, maybe you wouldn't have noticed.

He's showered since torturing and killing your brother before coming to pick you up from the beach at least. That's the least he could do.

Vaas looks over to you, and to the sunrise. “Are you tired, hermoso?” He asks, apparently taking in your exhausted appearance in his quick scan of you. It upsets you how nicely he sounds when he says that, like he’s only your soulmate and not also your captor.

You almost don't want to respond, because, f*ck him for everything, but you do anyway. “Tired is an understatement.” You tell him honestly, scrubbing a hand over your face and sighing when you feel the sandy grains staying behind from where your hand had been buried in the sand.

“I have a shower and a bed, if you want it.” He says, his eyes not leaving the sunset and ocean now.

If you weren't paying attention, his offer would be completely innocent. But you can sense the subtext in his words, the hidden meaning. Reading in between the lines you can tell he's planning something. Probably. “But…?” You prompt, staring at him.

Vaas turns his head towards you and his eyes meet yours, his eyebrows furrowed. “Are you asking me if there's some sort of catch?” He says, like it’s the most crazy thing in the world for you to assume it.

You nod, and feel your cheeks flush for some reason. Why was he making you embarrassed? Why did it matter if he misunderstood you? Why did you care about what he thought of you?

“There isn't a catch.” He deadpans, as if it should be obvious. “I was just trying to be nice, hermoso.” Vaas says, sounding incredibly hurt, and putting a small hand over his heart as if you had physically hurt him.

He seems sincere, and you hate that. It's easier to see through his obvious lies, his passive aggression that turned into real aggression. His display with your brother had shown you that. But this? This version of Vaas was so much harder to understand.

What would he even do if you did say no? You can imagine being dragged back to the cages, or better yet, a shallow grave if you pissed him off enough.

“...Okay.” You say, not feeling much like you had a choice in the matter.

His smile was like the cat that had gotten the canary. “Great.” Vaas says, and quickly stands up, extending his hand down to you. “Your palace awaits, princess.” He says overdramatically.

You begrudgingly take his hand and let him help you up. His hand is incredibly calloused, and you should've expected that for a gun slinging, knife wielding pirate. You're shaky on your feet, and he's quick to catch you at your waist before you go tumbling down back into the sand.

Instead, you tumble into his arms and all at once you wish you had been left in the cages, because looking into his eyes you can see he's attracted to you as he catches you and feels your body up against his.

You can also feel his, can feel the large muscles underneath his shirt and had this been any other man you might be attracted to that as well, but all you can feel when that happens is the fact he's much stronger than you are.

He could easily snap your arm or, perhaps if he were so inclined, your neck with a twist of his wrist. That scares the absolute shit out of you.

His smile is sweet if but a little flustered and you’re quick to pull back. He allows for it.

Vaas looks at you, and his smile grows into something almost sickeningly cute.. “That was like, uh, one of those Hollywood movie moments.” He says as a matter of fact and laughs as if any of this was funny. “If only we had a camera on us, no?” He offers, and jokingly pushes lightly into your shoulder.

You don’t laugh. In fact, you don't even respond other than a small nod.

“Man, you need to lighten up, hermoso.” He grumbles, his mood souring slightly. He continues to talk for you as he considers the possibilities of why you didn't laugh at his joke. “Maybe you're just tired, let's get you some sleep and we'll see how funny you think I am in the morning. C'mon." He motions his head, forward back to the camp. "Let's get some sleep."

You can tell there are a million things he wants to say, wants to talk about on the way back into the outpost. He doesn't say one to you, though. Choosing instead to allow for the comfortable silence to overcome you two.

You're thankful, because you don't know what you would even say to him.

What could there be to say? After all that he had put you through.

As every step you take gets you closer to the camp, you can't help but feel your heart quicken.

...You were extremely worried about what would happen the moment you stepped into camp.

#fc3 #far cry 3 #vaas imagine #vaas montenegro imagine #my writings #my writing #reader #vaas Montenegro #vaas Montenegro x reader #tw: long post

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ask-jumblr · 4 years

Text

Thank you so much to everyone who’s been constructive.

Both commenters, and the anons below who were open about what they’re struggling with. Since all of the asks were either hateful, or seemed to be addressed at me, the mod, I’m going to handle them.

Before you get too upset that I didn’t give all y’all equal chance to answer: I’m encouraging the anons to send in some asks dealing with the issues they’re mentioning, formatted in such a way that it’s easier for jumblr as a whole to constructively help. Based on their current asks, I can only ask questions about what they practically need.

Because I’ll be addressing the asks chronologically and the constructive asks come later, I’m going to put it all below the cut. If you don’t have energy today, don’t click through. Even the constructive stuff is heavy.

Here were the first two anon’s received:

Isn't Orthodox just exclusionary extremism? Aren't those the homophobes and transphobes who think you shouldn't be allowed to marry a non-Jew? Why aren't we staying focused on reform/recon Judaism?

It’s okay not to know things, although the assumption was a little harsh so I didn’t want to post it directly. In response I made a myth-busting post. Yes, it is American-centric, but here’s why: I can be pretty darn sure anon is American, or at least North American.

Given that you’re upset about intermarriage, you’re probably not Israeli. Given that the U.S. has the largest diaspora population, anon is likely American. Given that anon is referencing “Reform” Judaism as an alternative, they’re probably not in Britain (”Liberal Judaism”) or outside U.S./Britain/Canada/Israel (”Progressive Judaism” everywhere else).

Realistically speaking, I can’t call up every community everywhere. As an American coming out of a mediocre, Anglo-centric education system, I can only speak one other language with any competence and blurt a few words of a few more. If you want to know about a community in a specific place then please, please ask. There have been folks on here asking about communities all sorts of places who have gotten answers here. Jewish geography + the internet is amazing! When anon is American, with misconceptions about American Jews I’m going to assume such.

Orthodox Jews should probably stop existing.

This ask is hateful and non-constructive. Hence the threat to block.

After this, I got some anons who are getting at some problems that we can really work on. They aren’t American, so I’ve assumed they aren’t the first anon.

hey if your responses and views could stop portraying us jewery as being the only way things are done and that we somehow all have access to the stuff you do, that would be grand

(cont) or where there zero chance of finding a group of that community that'll accept me and not treat me in hateful ways. I'm sorry that Jewery outside the US/NA is that unfamiliar to you and that our viewpoints and experiences makes you uncomfortable but I guess that's the way US Jews deal with Jewish "outsiders".

I’m going to start with part 1 to stay in order even though part 2 is what gets me antsy to help ya. You’re right. I don’t have a ton of experience with non-U.S. Jewery. That’s why I tag thoroughly and encourage folks who don’t know the answer to signal boost. If you’re specific, someone else on jumblr can help you.

When anon asks are vague and, as they often do, reference U.S./North American terms for branches (”reform” rather than “liberal” or “progressive”), I’m going assume the anon us in the U.S. or greater North America. Most other respondents likely will too. Anon askers who want otherwise need to use terms that are more globally (”progressive”) or locally (”liberal”) appropriate, or give a little more locational information (e.g. city, country, region). Re-my new explanation above about American-centrism. I respect that you didn’t have the benefit of seeing the language in that ask, but I’m here to help you as much as I can without superfluously emailing every rabbi in every country for another anon who’s linguistically and statistically likely to be in New Jersey or Ohio or somewhere else in the U.S..

Now for part 2 (after “(cont)”), your concerns. (Getting something out of the way: Since you’re saying “Jewish “outsiders”” I’m going to assume you’re Jewish. However, many people reading this might not be; this audience has a lot of prospective converts. I want to point out that prospective converts aren’t entitled to conversion via any particular community. I might personally be dismayed, but it’s that community’s prerogative. Getting that community to a place where people who are already Jewish who are LGBTQ, have disabilities, etc. are accepted is going to be my priority if I were to harangue a community that’s not my own. In other words, people like anon. On that note...) I received another ask with a concern similar to part 2, by someone in a similar situation as a Jewish person under the LGBTQ umbrella whose only option is a community that won’t accept them. I’d like to answer these together. Here’s that second ask:

Not your first anon but there's no non-homophobic Orthodox community where I live. I live in Europe and maybe it is different in the US but the Orthodox communities here do NOT accept lgbt+ people. Or if they do it is under the "don't ask, don't tell" form of homophobia where you're accepted as long as you don't display it publicly or ask them to treat you as an equal in any way. So sorry for not feeling endeared to a group that have always hated me.

This means we’ve got a heck of a problem. There are Jewish people who don’t have a community and need one. Y’all (You all) don’t know me irl, but making sure Jewish people who want Jewish communities have Jewish communities is something I’m very big on. I’ve gotten some flack for being too welcoming or too focused on making sure synagogues are welcoming. I want you to know that we want you here. Unfortunately you aren’t close enough for me to personally offer you that hug.

You see, I’m a U.S. Jew, but I’m not one from a place like New York City where there’s a wealth of Jewish community options. (hint: #SouthernJews #ShalomY’all) I know those people near me who feel forgotten, ignored, scoffed at, or unvalued don’t always have another option (or that it’s a loooong drive and lots of gas money away). I am someone who has had to put in the work to build the community she wants and needs, and a community that is welcoming for the people she cares about.

Putting aside the extent to which I’ve had to patch up my own education while trying to make sure others aren’t on their own doing it, I’ve also had an obstacle you’ll find more relatable. I know it’s not obvious, I’m also under that LGBTQ umbrella (sexuality, not really gender from my current self-understanding). I’m largely closeted irl because being Jewish makes me enough of a target and is harder to hide. I don’t discuss it much on the internet because I don’t want #woke #discourse about myself as I figure out my own identity, and don’t want my own processing (yay for internalized -isms!) to hurt someone else. It’s fine that you didn’t know, but I want you to know now so that you can understand my experience:

Yesterday, I had a conversation with a friend in Israel who’s had to make community choices too. My friend (who is also under that umbrella) convinced me that I should go to a shul with a rabbi who was openly homophobic in the past because it’ll be the best balance between programming that meets my needs (adult learning! services!) and driving distance. The rabbi stopped being openly homophobic, so I know I can be in that community. But it’s not exactly my dream. I don’t plan on relying on that rabbi for psak or life-cycle events--at least not until I know more. Then again, I’m lucky. I’m lucky in that there are rabbis I feel comfortable getting psak from who speak my native language. I’m lucky that I know enough to know that a non-rabbi can officiate a commitment ceremony (and actually a Jewish wedding too...), and that I’m from a well-connected extended-family that is friends with rabbis elsewhere (whoot! Jewish geography!) who would happily come in to officiate for me (though it might be costly and they might only do commitment rather than marriage). And I’m lucky that my extended family would be supportive enough to do so for me (they’d be getting eager enough for me to marry anyone...). I’m also lucky in that I could drive even farther and hit a Reform community that’s been more accepting for much longer. It doesn’t have the resources or programming I need, but I would have hypothetical access to a place with other Jews that has gender-neutral bathrooms and a rabbi who hasn’t said anything (recorded) that’s unaffirming of my existence.

But what about people who don’t have access to an alternate community? Or for whom that other community is even father from being a good fit? With work, it is possible to make change. Do you know why that shul’s rabbi stopped being openly homophobic? Maybe compassion. But there was an outside trend too: the community shifted away from homophobia to embrace its LGBTQ members, and he was forced to follow. It’s quite likely that movement stances and responsum helped, but community organizing, changing minds one-at-a-time, those were definitely pieces of the puzzle.

I want this blog to be here for you in figuring out how to make those changes. I began an initiative on here called Tikkunity. It’s a goofy name for an important mission: help people find strategies to make their communities more vibrant, more welcoming, more supportive, more accessible, more whatever someone needs. The ones I’ve put out so far aren’t as heavy as your topic, but Tikkunity is also here for what you’re looking for. I’ve gotten in touch with some other blogs about topics that are less obvious for communities, and a bit heavier too. If either of y’all feels comfortable messaging me from off anon (just make a side-blog with a random url), I’d love to draft a post with you. Alternately, if you send something constructive and specific enough such as “I only have one choice of community and I don’t feel safe or accepted there as a [insert LGBTQ identity/ies] person. How can I make my community more accepting of [my existence/my partnership/my pronouns/etc.]? FOR: Orthodox and [LGBTQ accepting/affirming/or other word or phrase of your choice that describes people who would be in-line with your goal]” or “ I only have one choice of community (there aren’t many Jewish people near me) and I don’t feel safe or accepted there as a [insert LGBTQ identity/ies] person. Does anyone have recommendations of what to do and tools to help me do Jewish stuff to do without the big community? How can I find people from that community willing to join me so it isn’t as lonely?” then I can post it off the bat

As much as I’m not letting askers generalize Orthodox Jews as individually homophobic/transphobic, the U.S. isn’t a utopia for LGBTQ [Orthodox] Jews looking for communities. “Don’t ask don’t tell” is how many U.S. Orthodox communities function. You’ll notice that the Orthodox LGBTQ-acceptance group I linked (Eshel) is an activist-type group from within the Orthodox community. The most effective change comes from within communities, which is why I’d rather you talk to Orthodox jumblrs than me. There are many LGBTQ Orthodox Jews on tumblr who might be willing and able to help you make that change via advice on a Tikkunity post, connecting you with other activists, or via a longer-term messaging relationship as they make change in their own communities. While I don’t think Eshel formally works outside the U.S. right now, that doesn’t mean you can’t ask them about expansion or see if they can connect you with other laypeople community builders and shifters to provide mentorship and support.

If you can’t start within the community, you can start building alternate spaces with Jewish people you know who have been willing to engage with you. Even communities that are largely homophobic/transphobic aren’t a monolith. There’s lots of advice out there for people making “start-up” communities or “indepedent minyanim” or “chaburas.” It’s not fair that you have to do the work. But don’t take it out on all Orthodox Jews, individually, especially because some of them are on your side.

And if you’d rather move than make those changes then if/when you are able to move this blog can also be a resource for you. If you send in a message with the cities you’re considering and what you’re looking for in a community, someone in jumblr can likely help give some advice on where you’ll find the best community for you.

#ask-jumblr #mod talk #meta #blog #hate #anon hate #LGBTQ #LGBTQ Orthodox Jews

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anchoredtether · 5 years

Photo

Title: The Ghost in the Machine

Chapter: 1/13

Series: Another Way to Die

Author: AnchoredTether

Rating: M [graphic depictions of violence, dark themes, slight horror]

Pairings: Pidge | Katie Holt / Lance [Plance]

Tags: Danny Phantom AU, Alternate Universe - Ghost Hunters (kinda), ghost!Lance, Pidge is slightly goth, Keith is also half-ghost, angst, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn, disturbing themes, slight horror elements, dark, claustrophobia, implied/referenced torture, double life, angst and humor, body horror, graphic description

Summary: “So this is how I die. In some Holt laboratory device when ALL I WANTED WAS STRING CHEESE!"

Artwork: The lovely @numbah34 made several arts for this work and they are fantastic! Check out her art here! She also has more concept art which I will link once it’s posted~

A/N: Here is my contribution for the @planceminibang! A special thank you to @amicuscordis for beta-ing! Vague summary is vague.

Read below the cut or over here at Ao3 >>

001 || THE GHOST IN THE MACHINE

---

“We should probably get back to studying,” Pidge announced after both their characters died on the retro gaming system and the eight-bit funeral dirge played. “Since, you know, you came over here to study.”

“Yeah yeah, I know…” Lance sighed. He currently had a D in his physics class and Pidge happened to be a genius at anything related to science, so they started study sessions at her place a few weeks ago. “I needed a break though! All this talk of kinetics and energy was putting my head for a spin.”

“Killbot has killed us seven times in a row so I think that’s as good a time as any to quit while we’re ahead.”

“Seven times the charm?” Lance put down the controller and pulled his textbook back onto his lap, stretching his legs out onto the coffee table. “Maaaan, who studies on a Friday night??”

“Smart people who want all day Saturday and Sunday to themselves.”

He snapped his book shut again and stood up. “You know what? I’m starving. I’ll be right back with some snacks.”

She sighed. “You have the attention span of a magpie, Lance.” After five good minutes of studying he’d go on some tangent and she had to redirect his attention, or he’d want to do a video game break or a snack break or a bathroom break and she swore that boy drank water like an alcoholic downs free shots because he was constantly needing to relieve himself. When she called him out on ‘faking’ bathroom breaks to get out of studying he simply lifted up his massive water bottle and told her he drank six of them a day. He progressed on a long spiel about how great water was and she couldn’t decide whether she was impressed by how much science he had to back up his arguments or annoyed by the fact that he couldn’t shut up about water.

She called out to him as he started down the hallway. “Can you bring me some peanut butter cookies? They’re on the top shelf of the fridge.” He held up a hand to indicate he heard and she pulled out homework from one of her advanced placement classes to work on while she waited for his return.

The Holt house was confusing. The whole family was geniuses - Sam was a revered engineer and Colleen a brilliant chemist and botanist. Half the rooms in the house were labs or conservatories (or a combination) and so many parts of the house were added on or obscure extensions that made it a strange maze of plants and machinery. Lance usually had to ask Pidge to remind him which way was to the bathroom or kitchen but he didn’t want to bother her this time. It shouldn’t have been too hard to figure out, right? He had an innate sense of direction.

The other issue was the fact that Sam upgraded all their normal appliances. Their washer and dryer did not look like the standard because he invented ones that worked better. Lance found a room that might possibly be a kitchen but just as easily a lab. There were a few black knives left on one of the counters and some strange looking vegetables. Knives and vegetables were found together in kitchens, right? Then again, half the rooms had vegetables, but he figured a kitchen utensil and an edible looking plant had to be a good indicator.

He walked up to what looked like could be a fridge and tried pulling the giant red lever that could have been the door handle. When nothing opened for him, Lance let out a dissatisfied hum and walked over to some double doors that might have been a pantry or fridge and pulled them open. They were heavy and made a hissing and whirring sound as they slowly opened. The area inside was well lit and the walls looked like they were lined with drawers, but when he walked up and tried pulling on one of the panels it wouldn’t budge.

“Pidge distinctly said ‘shelf.’ So obviously whatever this is, it’s not the refrigerator.” He took one last look before turning to leave, but the doors just barely finished closing on their own without a sound. He let out a short yelp before rushing over and pushing on the thick metal doors but there were no handles and they weren’t budging against his weight. Suddenly the lights in the room snapped into an electric green and he could hear an ominous whirring of something powering up gradually increase in volume.

He pounded on the door, yelling Pidge and her parents’ names in a vain attempt to grab someone’s attention. He started to panic, looking around frantically for some escape latch or emergency button within the walls of the room. When he exhausted all his options he backed up into a corner and braced himself for whatever was about to happen, his limbs plastered against the walls.

“So this is how I die.” He sucked in a sharp breath. “In some Holt laboratory device when ALL I WANTED WAS STRING CHEESE!”

The lights turned off and he screamed, but his scream slowly died out as he realized he wasn’t being evaporated. Nothing happened except for a sudden nausea that overcame him and then his senses quickly faded into blackness.

---

When Lance came to, he was lying on the ground of the fridge-not-fridge, the hospital-white lights were back on, and the double doors were left open. He looked over his body and patted himself in random spots and let out a sigh of relief. He seemed to be alright and figured he simply passed out from fear and adrenaline. He stood up and quickly left the room, finding his way back to Pidge.

“You can’t find the fridge, can you?” she asked in a dour tone.

She didn’t seem concerned that he was gone for a long time, so Lance figured he was only passed out for a minute or so. It would have been logical to tell her what had just happened but a part of him hesitated. Nothing happened and he didn’t want to get in trouble with her parents. He didn’t want her to get in trouble with her parents when he was being an idiot. He’d seen the way Colleen and Pidge interacted and Mrs. Holt was a scary woman when she wanted to be. He let out a nervous laugh before answering. “No, it appears I’m helpless at your house.”

Pidge stood up as she finished typing something on her phone, her green-painted nails clacking against the touch screen as she led the way without having to look up. “Follow me, goofball.”

They acquired the snacks from the strangely designed fridge - which he could have sworn it did not look like that two weeks ago - and returned to the living room (and he tried to make a mental note of the directions they took through the hallways to get there). They resumed their study of kinetic motion but the only motion Lance could focus on was the swaying of the room.

“I think I need to go home,” he said in the middle of Pidge’s explanation.

“Really, Lance? We haven’t studied five min-” She frowned a moment as she looked him over. “You’re… actually really pale. Are you alright?”

“Um… I think… yeah. I think so.” His voice was starting to slur ever so slightly and he had a feeling it would only get worse. “I just need to… to lie down, or something.”

“You can lie down on the couch or I’ll get you a bed! I don’t think you should be walking home in the state you’re in.”

“No really, I’ll… I should go home.” He stood up and swayed, but Pidge quickly stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

“At least let me walk you there,” she insisted.

His house was just a few blocks down from hers so the walk wasn’t long, but they still had to take a few rest stops for Lance to catch his breath and steady his nausea. Mrs. Villanueva kindly greeted them and took Lance in, thanking Pidge for her help (and referring to her as ‘Katie’). Pidge walked back home and wondered what could have overcome her friend. His constitution had gone from perfectly fine to on his deathbed within minutes. She made it a note to check in on him tomorrow if she didn’t hear from him.

---

Mama Villanueva put Lance immediately to bed, completely tucking the blankets around him and leaving him with bottles of water, a sleeve of saltines, and a throw-up bowl. He had a feeling that whatever was wrong with him wasn’t some kind of flu or virus, and a dread gained weight in his chest that he’d have to tell the Holts what happened to him in their lab if he ever wanted to get better.

What if he never got better?

What if he was dying?

After several runs of overthinking, Lance eventually passed out from mere exhaustion. Not even his worried, rambling brain could keep him from the fatigue that soon overtook his body. He had stressful dreams of things chasing him, as if the mysterious sickness was something he could not run from or escape. When he awoke in the middle of the night, he was fairly sure it was a false awakening and he was still in a dream.

Because he was floating above his bed.

It wasn’t the weirdest thing that had happened in his dreams but it started to get freaky when he saw his whole body was slightly translucent. And for whatever reason, instead of his sleepwear he was dressed in what he wore yesterday and his clothes were inverted in color. His jacket was now a pale frosted gray, the orange bands around his sleeves now a vibrant blue. His jeans became a light tan while his shirt and shoes darkened into a charcoal gray.

“Of course I’d dream myself as a ghost after worrying about dying,” he muttered to himself as he looked at his hands with a calm fascination. He also knew he was dreaming because the sickness that consumed his body before was magically gone. He knew if he had woken for real, he would have felt like death.

He tried moving to the ground and floated on down with ease, his feet touching the floor without a sound. He started to walk out of his room but then decided to try floating instead because if he was a ghost why bother using the energy to walk? He discovered he could do it without much thought, his feet hovering a few inches from the ground with knees relaxed as if he were making his way through zero gravity.

Lance was about to open his door but his hand phased through it, causing him to let out a startled yelp. He covered his mouth with his hand that wasn't halfway through the door and waited, listening to hear if he woke anyone up. He shook his head, realizing this was a dream and it didn't matter if he woke up his parents or siblings. Although for all he knew, in this dream world there might have been monsters or something equally as terrifying he did not want to awaken.

He returned his focus to his hand in the door. It didn't hurt but he could feel where the doorknob began through his wrist and where the door ended halfway through his fingers like a precise singeing upon his skin. It didn’t burn, exactly, but Lance didn’t want to linger through a solid object for too long.

"This is the weirdest thing…" He experimented by moving his hand in and out through the door through various parts, testing how it felt at different angles. He slowly made his way phasing his whole body through the door, pausing here and there with curiosity. It wasn't long after he passed through the door that a chilling sensation passed up his spine and caused him to let out a squeaky wheeze. Some strange feeling overcame him, urging him to go outside.

Now knowing he could phase through solid objects, he passed through the bathroom in the hall and straight to the outside of his house. He turned towards the street, completely silent and serene in the middle of the night, and saw a figure in the distance. Normally a stranger out in the street at three in the morning was a major red flag but Lance could afford to follow his dangerously unhealthy curiosity when it was only a dream. He might get chased and murdered by a serial killer with an axe, but he could phase through walls now so it might not be nearly as scary (at least that's how he justified it).

Upon hovering closer, he saw that the figure was semi-translucent as well, although the stranger had his feet planted on the ground like a normal person. Perhaps everyone in this particular alternate universe were ghostly. Lance must have spent way too long staring at the stranger because when he spoke it completely startled him.

"What are you doing out here?"

Lance struggled for a moment as his mouth worked but only sputtering came out. "B-bold of you to say that when you're out in the middle of the street in the middle of the night… in the middle of my dream," he added for emphasis, as if that mattered. "So what are you doing out here?"

"It's not safe out here, you should go back to your home," the stranger said in a kind but cautious tone. He was interesting looking and perhaps that's why Lance was staring so intensely before. The stranger had purple skin with darker stripes curving up his cheeks, his eyes an electric yellow with bright purple irises. Lance had to wonder if he looked just as strange but the color of his skin was its usual warm tone.

"My home is right there," he jabbed a thumb behind him. "So I might as well see what's going on."

"No, really." The stranger almost looked nervous. "You should go."

"Aww come on, do I really look that pathetic?" Lance scoffed, confident that he could handle whatever this dream verse would throw at him. He had played enough video games to improvise and figure out how to survive.

"Considering you no longer have legs, yes."

He stared at him in confusion for a moment, then dared to look down to see his legs were gone, a translucent ghostly tail curling down from his waist instead. "Oh! Wha… what does that mean?" This dream is turning out weirder by the minute.

"Either you're an emotional wreck or you have no control over your ghost powers. Or both," he answered flatly. "Don't you know you don't need your tail unless you're traveling at high speeds or maneuvering quickly through solid objects?"

Lance lowered his brows. "I- wh?- No. I have no idea how to be a ghost."

The stranger looked a hundred percent done. "You are a ghost."

"Yeah, just for right now in this weird dream. I always have weird dreams when I'm sick."

"This is real life. It's not a dream."

"See? That's exactly what someone in my dream would say!"

The stranger rolled his bright eyes. "Fine. Whatever. Die for all I care."

"Aren't we already dead? We're ghosts."

His eyes narrowed, his expression intense. "You… you aren't normally human, are you?"

"Of course I'm 'normally' human," he answered with air quotes. "What kind of a question is that?"

The stranger suddenly looked apprehensive. "You really need to go home. And stay there."

Lance placed his hands on his hips, his face turning into a frustrated pout. "You're not the boss of me."

He turned on him, his face only inches away as his voice tugged an urgency from Lance's chest. "Your kind are rare and there is a hunter out on the loose looking for ghosts like you. Believe me when I say you do not want to be caught. If you care at all about your own self-preservation you will run and hide. I can mislead him from your home but only if you promise to stay there."

Lance was silent a moment, his eyes wide as he tried to process the severity of his words, but something stuck out to him more than the imminent danger or the implication that he was no longer human. "Why would you want to help me?"

The other ghost hesitated but his answer felt sincere. "Because we're more similar than you think." His golden eyes moved to the house and back to Lance to indicate he should go back, and with that, he gave him one last look and flew away, out of the streetlight and into the darkness.

"… I guess that's one way for my dream to wake me up." He shrugged and hovered back towards his house, phased through the walls and went back to his room. As soon as he approached the bed, the same chill from earlier traveled up his spine except this time he felt it worse.

He had a feeling that whatever the stranger was running from had arrived.

And whatever it was, it felt like a horribly bad omen.

#plance #plance mini bang #plance au #plance fanfic #flirtyrobot #danny phantom au #plance danny phantom au #ghost au #fanfic #vld #voltron #voltron fanfic #voltron au #vld au #ghost!lance #vld lance #vld pidge #my fanfiction #anchoredtether

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worseandworser · 5 years

Text

Beautiful

This exists thanks to @rodionismyhero <3 Thank you <3

Ship: Razumikhin/Raskolnikov

Summary: He was sure that wherever, whenever Rodya happened, so would Dima — and this way he was forever doomed with the prospect of following the man around like an overeager puppy.

But metaphysics was not his area — it was Rodion’s — and neither the point Razumikhin was looking for.

Rating: Explicit (warning for Lemon)

Warnings/tags: Modern setting, College AU, engineering student!Razumikhin, philosophy student!Raskolnikov, the very first time I post smut off-anon pls forgive me

read on ao3

If one made a list of problems in Razumikhin’s life, somehow it would always go back to Rodya being his friend. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the guy — which he did perhaps a bit too much; Dmitri couldn’t think of a plane of existence where the two of them hadn’t crossed and become at least acquaintances. The amount of appreciation he directed to Raskolnikov couldn’t possibly cease just because of a dimensional switch. He was sure that wherever, whenever Rodya happened, so would Dima — and this way he was forever doomed with the prospect of following the man around like an overeager puppy.

But metaphysics was not his area — it was Rodion’s — and neither the point Razumikhin was looking for.

People called their friendship ’weird’; yes, they had the guts to look Dima dead in the eyes with a sorry smile and call it weird. A stupid term, Rodya told him once, while he rambled about whatever Foucault's book he had been reading recently, and Razumikhin agreed. They weren’t weird — the grumpy hermit intellectual who ends up in a relationship with the extroverted jock everyone loves, or whatever. They were unbalanced. Both of them were, not as a duo but as individuals: Razumikhin was unbalanced for giving Rodya sovereign over his body, heart and soul, and Rodya for… well, being Rodya.

Which could be either a curse or a blessing — Dmitri was sure the only reason his friend hadn’t confronted him yet on his feelings was that said friend was Rodya.

He didn’t understand how the hell it happened. One day he was strolling down the streets, bumped into an undergrad from a completely different faculty, and then bang, he was lying awake at night thinking about mysterious dark brown eyes. He spent all of his high school years sleeping throughout history lessons, but when Rodion explained how Nietzsche’s books influenced eugenics in Nazi Germany he didn’t even blink. Raskolnikov opened his mouth and he felt as if the Universe was being peeled right in front of him. He was torn between listening attentively and wanting to shut him up using very unorthodox methods.

Rodya wasn’t objectively beautiful — he was skinny, lanky even, dressed like a mix of hipster and beggar, and had this perpetual frown that sometimes merged into an I’m-about-to-pass-out expression. Although the affection happened at first sight, the attraction took a while to rise. But when it did, Dima’s pathetic admiration-slash-crush turned into a full-on abyss of, what, feelings and such. Reprehensible.

Rodya would kill him if he found out.

Razumikhin couldn’t help it. He’d run all the way across the campus to have lunch in the cafeteria next to the Philosophy and Social Sciences faculty, just so he could sit next to Rodya for mere forty minutes. He’d cancel plans because Rodya was not in the mood to meet people, and would sit next to him in the library for hours even if he wasn’t that much of reader himself. He started studying quantum physics because once Rodya told him it was more interesting than numbers and calculus, and he could now name four presocratic philosophers (which was more than he ever thought he could do). He’d do and give up anything, if it would make his friend slightly happier.

And that included, apparently, storming out of a party Dmitri had been really excited to attend.

You see, perhaps he shouldn’t have brought Raskolnikov to an event organized by engineering students that was full of, well, engineering students. Rodya never failed to bring up how much he despised ‘number freaks’ and variations, how ignorant they were when it came to anything besides doing maths. He’d said that to Razumikhin’s face many times before and, even if Dima knew he was referring to others and not himself, it had always struck a nerve. Dmitri thought he could make him change his mind, or at least be a bit more open-minded, if he introduced him to his friends. A party had seemed like a very good excuse to do so — Razumikhin had insisted over and over again, and when Rodya finally relented… Let’s just say he smiled throughout the rest of the day.

Now, however, the only thing he felt was guilt. With some sprinkles of annoyance — at his friends, for saying those ridiculous things to Rodya, and at Rodya for taking everything so personally. But mostly at himself: he should have known better than to bring an antisocial to a social environment.

The fact Rodya accepted, though, still reverberated through his whole being — he’d wouldn’t go for himself, but he was willing to swallow his pride and fears to stand next to Razumikhin for a couple of highly stressful hours.

“Rodya, wait!”

Dmitri trailed behind his friend, watching him stomp and run at the same time — which was impressive, how did Rodya manage to do both? The alcohol he had ingested was barely enough to keep the cold at bay, but Raskolnikov’s portion seemed more than enough to make him stagger a bit.

“Please!”

Ok, so Dima’s friends were idiots, and they were the only idiots in the story. He wanted to know what the hell kind of mental gymnastics Rodion had succeeded to make that got him angry at Razumikhin. Unless it was not only— he couldn’t discard the possibility that he had done something that distressed the man, after all, Rodya was… sensitive. And sometimes Dmitri’s actions or words could mean much more to the other than they did to himself.

When he finally got his hands on the man’s upper-arms, Rodion did stop — but kept trying to twist away from grip.

“Stop trying to pull away!,” snapped Dmitri, “I just want to talk!”

Keeping his eyes on the ground, Rodya relented. “Let me go.”

“You won’t run away if I do?”

The man shrugged. Razumikhin figured it would be the closest to a positive answer and let go. “What happened?”

Rodya blushed, out of anger or embarrassment or whatever else he was feeling at that moment. “You saw everything!”

“About the political argument, yes, but what else?”

Still refusing to meet Razumikhin’s gaze, Raskolnikov stuffed his hands inside of his coat’s pockets. “I didn’t like the party, so I left.”

Stormed out, thought Dmitri, but I suppose that’s just semantics.

“If it was just that, you wouldn’t have told me you were leaving.”

He never did. It always hurt a bit, it made him feel… unwanted. Not that he expected Rodya to depend on him to leave whenever he was uncomfortable, but a warning would be very welcome. For friendship’s sake, of course.

“Whatever. Your friends are neanderthals.”

“Sure,” Razumikhin rolled his eyes, “where are you going then if you don’t like the party?”

He shrugged, “The dorms, probably. It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.”

And Dmitri followed him — like he always did.

It was yet to exist a place more empty than Raskolnikov’s bedroom. He lived alone — Razumikhin had the vague impression Rodya would rather live on the streets than have a roommate — which was a revolutionary act of itself, since very few students were granted such privilege. But he seemed to abdicate of all benefits that came with having a room of his own. There were no decorations of any sorts, just four beige walls, and a small window; the bed was always undone and some stacks of books and notes were scattered around the floor. When Dmitri had asked him about bringing people over, Rodya had stared him as if he was an alien.

They hanged out sometimes in here, though. Dima would bring snacks and beers and they would sit and talk, talk, talk. It appeared to be their favorite thing to do — talk, talk, talk.

But today they were silent — there were no drinks or snacks, much less available topics. Dmitri kept throwing glances at Rodya throughout the whole way there, trying to figure out if the man was still irritated or just pensive. In turn, Raskolnikov seemed to not pay him attention at all. Even when their sides brushed as they walked, or when Dima’s glances lingered for too long. He invited Dmitri in, and it was probably more out of habit than wanting to spend more time with a friend. But today things felt different — the alcohol, perhaps? — and Razumikhin caught himself anticipating an implosion — Rodya’s silence would become too much and he would bleed inside, leaving Razumikhin to clean after his hemorrhage.

As soon as the door was closed, he felt the hot-and-cold air around them curl around his throat.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Rodya’s head tilted to the side. “What for?”

“For taking you to a place you obviously didn’t want to go,” Dmitri clarified, “I was being selfish.”

“Don’t apologize for things you don’t need to, it kills all the purpose of an apology and makes you look like an idiot.”

Dmitri had an idea of what he looked like when he was listening to anything Rodya said — mesmerized, impressed, now adding the flush from the alcohol so he was probably looking like an idiot with or without the apology. And he felt like one, when the tension grew so tight it almost took his breath away. Raskolnikov stared at him from under his bangs, brown eyes shining like amber under the sunlight. It was that same sickly gleam he always carried around, as if instability was an inherent aspect of his soul and it reflected on his physical body. Beautiful, Razumikhin thought, just like he always did. Because it truly was.

Razumikhin was the one who did it — because there was no way Raskolnikov would be able to, even with all the random spurts of self-confidence. No, he took the step that closed the distance, he put his lips over Rodya’s, he put a hand on the other’s nape to try to find a better angle.

But it was Rodya who gripped his lapels and turned the kiss into a fight.

The sharp intake of breath came from Dmitri’s surprise, and the groan from the indescribable feel of Rodya’s tongue against his. They stumbled together — thank god, no books were stepped on — and Raskolnikov’s back hit the wall with a thud that reverberated through Dmitri’s ribcage. The angle was wrong again and Rodya was obviously not practiced enough and they were both stinking of alcohol and smoke and it was sublime. Razumikhin was still stuck on oh my god I’m kissing Rodya but nothing stopped him from gripping the other’s hips and shoving a thigh between his parted legs.

Despite ego and pride, Raskolnikov whimpered, the hold on Dmitri’s clothes shaking and being quickly substituted by arms tightening around Razumikhin’s shoulders. Rodya rolled his hips, and Razumikhin swallowed all his moans eagerly. Beautiful, he thought once again, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, and Dmitri had a soft spot for pretty things.

Razumikhin interrupted the kiss to fumble with their belts, then the pants’ button, then the zippers, and he could feel Raskolnikov’s startled eyes glued to his face as he did. He almost stopped, but Rodya was reaching to get both his pants and underwear out of the way and that should be enough for consenting, shouldn’t it?

what the fuck is going on what the actual f

And that was it— the kiss became a mess while Rodya seemed frantic to tear Razumikhin’s shirt, fisting and pulling, sobbing between their lips as if he couldn’t breathe. Dmitri was burning, from head to toe and his spirit was probably in flames too, but who cared. It was so fast and twisted, completely unexpected and out of order. Which was exactly what made it right, at least in Razumikhin’s opinion.

Dmitri was too far gone now, and Rodya seemed to be a few steps ahead. Their hips rocked together, their cocks rubbing maddeningly and Razumikhin was drunk on the other’s gasped pleasurable sounds. Realizing his hands could leave the bony hips they rested on, Dmitri sneaked them under Raskolnikov’s shirt, sliding up his ribs — the man squirmed, but didn’t pull away — so he could thumb one of Rodya’s nipples, twist them between his fingers. Rodya moaned, arching up against the touch and tugged at Dmitri’s shirt until the man got the clue.

The seconds they spent apart felt like millenniums.

Without the barrier of cloth, Razumikhin pressed their chests together. Too far gone to care about proper kisses, he dipped to mouth at Raskolnikov’s exposed throat — pale like marble, untarnished, begging to be covered with possessive purple blotches. His hands slid down his friend’s lithe body to cup his ass, then grip to help their exasperated thrusting. Harder, faster, now, now, now—

“D-Dima..!”

Rodya trembled underneath him, scratching at his back desperately, and Razumikhin could feel the warm spurts against his belly. His breath hitched as he saw the man’s features contort beautifully, beautiful, beautiful, and it wasn’t long before he followed suit.

It was only when it was over, when their legs gave away beneath them, that Razumikhin felt the worry creep on him. He looked at Rodya, sitting by his side with his knees pulled against his chest — he was entirely in disarray, and Dmitri probably wasn’t much better. He wanted to pull him closer, but when he put his arms around the other’s bare waist he met stone-cold eyes.

“Don’t ask me to leave,” said Razumikhin. Begged.

“You can’t stay here.”

“Do you really hate me that much?”

Rodya’s cheeks, already pink from their previous activities, turned a few shades darker. “Don’t say that.”

“Let me stay,” he insisted, “let me stay, and we’ll talk things over tomorrow.”

There was a sigh and no more protests, then Rodya’s forehead bumped against Razumikhin’s shoulder.

“Okay, then.”

#crime and punishment #fyodor dostoevsky #raskolnikov x razumikhin #raskolnikov #razumikhin #razumikhin x raskolnikov #fanfic #I AM SO SORRY DOSTOYEVSKY #I HOPE YOUR REST WAS NOT DISTURBED BC I WROTE THIS

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takaraphoenix · 5 years

Text

You know what kind of people I find utterly obnoxious?

The know-it-all who has the extreme need to show off their knowledge.

There’s knowledge-oversharers who do it out of a place of good intentions - the kind that think you do not know that but you should, so they tell you in an educational way.

Then there’s knowledge-oversharers who do it out of a place of personal interest - they love something so very, very much that when it comes up in conversation They Will Not Be Stopped and that... can get exhausting after a while but it comes out of a place of personal excitement and if it’s someone I give even a quarter of a shit about, I can sit through that even when the thing in question doesn’t interest me.

And then there’s the ones that want to rub it in. It’s in the way they phrase it, in the way they present it and themselves. As though they wish to convey that they have this knowledge that you apparently did not have and want to, I don’t know, make you feel embarrassed or flustered for not having known it.

(You can find this brand of people especially often in universities as literature or philosophy majors. I hear history majors too.)

And these kind of people, they somehow manage to bring up Trivia They Know even when it’s kind of... off-topic. To show off, you know.

Now to the part that is really annoying. It’s when they’re actually wrong.

Those people go outta their way to show off their knowledge and then they’re wrong.

And here’s what makes that even worse. When it’s not on a spoken conversation where, hey, everyone can be wrong. But rather when it’s online. Where... you could have just opened a new tab and fact checked yourself before slapping your “knowledge” onto that post?

I mean, I fact-check myself in situations where I am completely sure I remember the facts right. There’s no way I’m wrong. But on the off-chance I might have misremembered it, I’ll just... jump into a new tab and ask Google if I’m right before I say it out loud, on the internet.

And now, to be less vague, here’s the example that prompted this post!

A friend of mine shared this really fucking brilliant Hercules/Megara cosplay picture. It is so on-point, high quality, they are gorgeous and a perfect fit!

Now some know-it-all posts a comment beneath it: “just thinking about how they’re half-siblings... Greek mythology is worse with the incest than the Targaryens on Game of Thrones.”

And that just... rubs me the wrong way. Mainly because it has literally nothing to do with the cosplay at hand. What does it matter even if they were siblings? The cosplay is artfully made, those two people spent their time and money and clearly also their love on this thing. And you’re commenting on the myth behind it?

And you’re commenting on the myth behind it with wrong facts?

Megara and Herakles were not half-siblings? Not even by any stretchy, sketchy definition of the word.

So yeah, maybe I was being a tiny bit petty when I corrected him because come on, you didn’t have to leave this comment at all, but how do you manage to take one of the like five non-incest Greek mythology ships and claim they’re siblings? Like you couldn’t have just fact-checked yourself?

Now the most surreal part about this? He replied to my reply.

And he tried to get out of it. Like, he seems physically unable to say “Oh yeah, I mixed that up, sorry”. And he doesn’t even take the easy out. I expected that he just mixed Megara and Hebe up.

But he’s saying how he was talking about “Deinereira”, which is a very artful misspelling of Deianira. And how she was actually Herakles’ niece since she was the daughter of Dionysus. (And he tags on more trivia on Deianira. Unprompted and unrelated. But we gotta show off our knowledge, huh? Oh, pardon me, I mean Deinereira.)

She was not the daughter of Dionysus. And how were you talking about Deianira on a picture of Hercules/Megara and about how she was his niece when you were clearly referring to “those two” (in the photo) and called them half-siblings?

Is it really this hard for you to admit when you are actually wrong? Do you truly rather stumble into this very clear lie of what you “actually meant” which is somehow even more wrong than your original post? There’s actually nothing wrong with being wrong; everyone can mix something up. It happens. But this adamant refusal to admit that is nearly comical.

I find this to be such an internet phenomenon... and somehow in particular a Nerd Boi phenomenon - you know, the Big Bang Theory route of guys who have to rattle off the most trivial facts about a fandom just to show What Big Fans They Are and to make you feel bad for not being As Big A Fan because you didn’t know this insanely random, insanely unimportant fact?

In other cases? In other phrasings? Yes, there can be something educational about someone just spouting facts. There can even be something entertaining or charming about it.

But when you tag it on when there is barely a thread connecting what you say to the topic at hand? And what you say actually adds nothing to the conversation that is being had (in this case said conversation should have been: wow what an amazing cosplay!, not: wow what bad incest the Greeks did!), then maybe consider not adding your two cents?

Or at the very least asking Google if your two cents are actually right.

(And yes, usually I just roll my eyes and ignore people who try to grab attention by tagging their wisdom onto things unprompted, but as a creator myself, I just find it incredibly pretentious and obnoxious to put unrelated shit like this in the comment section of something amazing that someone spent hours and hours creating.)

#this is random #very random #Know It All #urgh so annoying

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angelinuhh · 5 years

Note

Hi there A! Could we get a public review from you? Thank you so much and we hope that you have a breathtaking upcoming week! ~ Admin Catie

DISCLAIMER: this review is onlyreflective of my own opinions and is intended to provide constructivecriticism. there is no obligation to listen to or agree with anything said.

OVERALL:

the reality tv junkie in me loves this concept of this rp. and, asI look around, this typifies exactly what I love about the genre: characterdevelopment, fast-paced events and, of course, a healthy dose of competition. Ilove your color scheme and your theme. for a contained theme, I found it incrediblyeasy to navigate—which was a real and true blessing. however, I do think that there are still many things to improve, Ithink a little more consistency and editing in your descriptions and overallaesthetic could really elevate your rp and make it more accessible andattractive to prospective members. I also would like to see a change in yourrules, both in policy and in tone. overall, I wish you guys the best of luck.

PLOT:

I really do love the rp idea, but I do think the plot page leavesa little something to be desired. For appless rps, especially ones withoutblurbs on the sidebar, you really do need something that is concise, both eye-catching and attention-grabbing, all the while getting to the point. while the content you have on this page isn’tbad, you have a long-ish block of text that can read a little dry at time.

I’ve taken the liberty of editing your plot to take on a more activetone to show you what I mean. while you have no obligation to use it, you dohave full permission to:

There is no greater motivation in theworld than money – and nowhere is that more present than in ParadiseIsland, MTV’s new reality television show. Sent to a private island inpairs and forced to compete challenges and tasks set by the producers, contestantsoften find themselves doing things they wouldn’t normally do, all for a chance at$750,000.

Here at Paradise Island, the fun never stops. With 24/7 Streaming, viewers are given a real-time seat to the drama,the romance and more! While binge-worthyshows are great, the 12 million daily viewers know the truth: they never have to find something new towatch again.

After a rigorous application process, including video essays about why theywould like to be on the show, interviews and even a test challenge was preparedto see which finalists caused the most drama or had the most chemistry, thehundreds of potential applicants were narrowed down to just 40. The producersrandomly assigned each contestant into pairs and, for the duration of the show,these partners were to share a room in the mansion and work together to win thegrand prize.

But what happens next—will loveblossom? Will greed step in? Witha 1/20 chance of winning the $750,000, most of the contestants will do anything to get their hands onthat money, but there can only be one pair of winners.

Who will be victorious in the first Paradise Island?

paradiseislandhq is anappless 23+ pairedmuse roleplay based on reality television. Contestants have been sent to aprivate island and must work in pairs for the chance to win a grand jackpot of $750,000w/ additional prizes. We focus on weekly character development tasks &challenges, plotting between members, in-character drama, and. of course- vacation vibes! Applicants are free toapply for a wanted connection partnership or to have one picked at random foryou!

If you would like to take a crack at it, here’s what I tried to fix.

Have a more ACTIVE TONE

thisis a purely stylistic choice, but i would suggest varying up sentence structureand utilizing your bold and italic keys a little more as most people in thegenre do.

Try to avoid going on tangents

Inthe beginning, you start with the motivator of money above all and thenimmediately move to love and status, thus weakening the power of your opening

Ialso did not particularly think the tangent about streaming services in thethird paragraph was necessary. Your goal is to emphasize that the show is 24/7—you don’t necessarily have to explain that.

Is it… $750,000 or $750,000+, because both were used. That needsto be clear.

The first thing I always look for is the synopsis at the bottom,but yours is a little bit long.

Iwould center it as well. You can do this by entering into the html and putting , I think.

Side note: make sure your navigation tab’s blurb matches the one on this page.

I also spotted a couple of grammar errors. Your biggest and mostfrequently repeated error is run-on sentences and a lack of commas.

RULES

bh, your rules page was a hugeturnoff for me. I don’t think it was your intention, but it was very blunt, alittle wordy (ik ik… im legit the most wordy person on earth) and read kind of…rude. A a potential applicant and as a reviewer, I just- I wasn’t feeling itand would likely be very wary of applying because of it. There are also quite a few run-on sentenceshere, so watch out for that.

I’m not going to rewrite the whole thing, but here are a few specificchanges I would make and alternate wordings to your statements.

Edits

(++) I would put in a HOW WE RP section and add in the stuffabout the tasks, points and challenges. Because that should not go underinclusivity. I also do not understand how it works and I need much moreexplanation. I can guess, of course, but I shouldn’t have to. You need toclearly outline how this rp will be run and how tasks will be delegated and pointswill be awarded. Vaguely stating that there will be challenges and points andwhatever will not work.

(++) Your muses section is very confusing. Especially the agebut also the diversity part. I understand that you feel strongly about this,but I brought it up to some friends and many of them were just as confused as Iwas. I read your FAQ and things did not get any clearer. If I were you, I wouldsimply say “all muses and fcs must be older than 25. Please aim to make yourcharacter’s age believable with your faceclaim.”. And that, “to encouragediversity, if you have more than one character, at least one must be POC.” Asyou have it, it is very murky and kind of defensive?? almost. Like I reallywant people to be over 25, but I guess they can play 23, but also they canactually be 40 but they can play in their 20s. It’s convoluted and I get alittle frustrated trying to read it. In my opinion, you just have to pick asingle age and go with it.

I feel like your unfollow rule is extremely lenient for one ofthese rps. It may lead most of your members being inactive before they getunfollowed.

Alt wordings (some suggestions)

Although it is expected that in-character partnerships will needcharacter development, please make an effort to interact with all member.Bubble RPing is NOT permitted and we aim to make an inclusive environment whereall muns can explore their characters.

Youroriginal statement really put the onus on the RPer like they’re already doingsomething wrong.

We are happy to oblige with hiatus or semi-hiatus requests. Lifecomes up and we want all of our players to be comfortable. However, we onlyaccept these requests through asks that come through our inbox.

Reallythe CAPS and the Do not inform by im… don’t really feel like you want me tocomfortable.

We allow small/medium gifs. Please do not use large gifs. In orderto be accessible we do not allow gif icons under 90x90. >>>>In order to be accessible, large gifs and gif icons under 90px are not allowed.We prefer small/medium gifs.

Feel free to cause in character drama. However, no OOC drama willbe tolerated !! >>> While in-character drama can be fun, OOCdrama will not be tolerated.

idk why but those exclamation points were felt in my soul, man. Sdfjdkf. Look, it’s just a little intimidating.

ACCESSIBILITY :

I knowthis sounds like a small thing, but I really am impressed.Container themes are notoriously hard to navigate but I had little to notrouble going through yours. If your rp grows, that muse tab is going to behell to update so I admire your commitment.

My onlycritiques are that

youneed to finish updating your nav so there are no broken/nonexistent links—whichI’m sure you will do

on your/map page, you have ‘wanted connections’ spliced so both wanted and connectionare links.

I’dmuch rather see a page with all the tags to track than just having them floataround on the navigation. But this is totally up to you to change.

AESTHETIC/GRAPHICS:.

Lovethem. Whoever did them, mostly, did a good job in maintaining the color scheme.My only critique is that I’m not really feeling the headers for, like, the plotpage and the wanted connections…etc. These harsh black borders and script fontsstand out a lot and, while the images are nice, they have a completelydifferent color scheme (dark blue-ish tones to the warm and tropical orange ofthe rest of the theme). I wish they would! Because otherwise, I really do likewhat you have here.

MORE.

I would edit or remove the first question onyour FAQ.If anyone asks the question, you can say to promote age diversity andthat’s reason enough. As it stands, the question and the answer just makes me confusedand, some of the statements like “actors over 25 have more resources” is justuntrue.

thebiggest flaw that I see in your RP is inconsistency and occasional lack ofclarity. here is a list of things I’ve found that varied from page to page.

1. Sometimesthe jackpot is 750,000. Sometimes it is not.

2. Theblurb on your navigation does not match the blurb on your plot page

3. Yourefer to this rp both as appless and semiappless.

TLDR; what i would like to see changed, vaguelyin order of most of least importance. Feel free to ignore any or all of these.

REDO your rules page to include a HOW WE RP detailing thepoints, tasks and challenges

CHOOSEa clear and consistent ruling on your age bending/limits. It might make senseto you and promoting age diversity is very admirable, but, look, we’re alldumb.

EDITyour rules page to be… more affable. It’s not bad as it, but it just helpspeople get through it.

i wrote a few alternate phrasings you can look at

EDITyour plot to be more engaging and concise to really grab people’s attention.

i wrote something above that you may use

DOUBLE CHECK all your pages to make sure that you don’tcontradict yourself in various places.

as a last note and reminder, YOU DO NOT HAVE TO TAKE ANY OF MYSUGGESTIONS. There is no ill-will from me to you. As always, this is notintended to be hate and I genuinely want the best for you guys. However, I amterminally cursed to be nitpicky. I’ve done my very best to make sure my adviceis constructive, but please call me out if you find any of this offensive orcrude.

I genuinely like the idea of the RP and appreciate the work you’veput in. Seeing Dev Patel used--- makes my day. Thank you for your time andpatience.

If you have any more concerns or questions, please feel free tocontact me.

#rpt #rp review #rpo #rpc #paradiseislandhq

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deathloveshischicagopizza · 6 years

Text

So I'm writing a VLD fic

@comfortably-chaotic-mind I'm tagging you bc you know this fic and I'm sure you'll want to hear this lol plus this is kind of a funny story...sorry for the long post though

Everybody else, I'm very very very sorry you have to put up with this but I'm really upset about this right now so I gotta get this out

Basically, Keith's dad was super close with the latest Admiral of the Galaxy Garrison. Like I'm not sure what happened with them (maybe graduated together?? or the admiral taught him some life lesson??? idk) but Kogane trusts Dos Santos with his LIFE okay

And he basically says that Dos Santos is Keith's godfather in his will

So when Kogane dies...Dos Santos shows up and is like bitch u ain't takin this boi to the home

So Keith becomes like the housecat-ghostboy-orphan of the Galaxy Garrison. He likes sitting with the old people, climbing in the rafters, and sneaking around to scare the shot out of the cadets.

He's also an avid reader. (A personal headcanon of mine but blown up to a massive proportion.)

Like I mean this boy eats books for breakfast lunch and dinner. If he's awake, he's reading. He listens to audio books to fall asleep half the time (the other half of the time he's blasting Disturbed or FOB or something edgy like that).

This boy has read every book that could even VAGUELY be considered interesting.

Okay, let me just tell you:

The average school library has a ratio of between 10 and 20 books per student.

Let's say the Garrison has 5000 students (just larger than West Points cadet count) and their ratio is small at 10. That's 50000 books in the library.

Probably 10000 are extra copies or second/third/twelfth editions of the same books (going by the ratio of 1/5 that my school had). That's still 40000.

I'm gonna be nice and say that 500 are reference books, another 500 are random (small, informational or entertaining, don't fit a special category), 25000 are nonfiction, and 14000 are nonfiction.

Keith is almost 13 at this point in the story.

As an avid reader myself, I started reading at four. Keith started at five in the story.

I was six when I read my first 200pager. So was Keith.

So let's say he started on the smallest books in the Garrison at age 5. That's 500 in a year. About a book and a half a day.

Boom. Down to 35500 books in the library.

(As we all know, I hope, the library will rotate books, causing the number to fluctuate a bit. But let's say for the sake of math that it stays this way)

His dad already gets supplies from the Garrison (because he lives on Garrison property shhh it makes sense) so he starts asking for more books because Keith is just eating them up.

So the countdown to 15000 starts.

This is where I should explain that I literally lived down the road from a small town library until I was ten years old. I know what it's like to have access to books. I went to the library with my uncle every saturday afternoon. The librarian knew my name and used to come to my soccer games when he could. He was my best friend.

I remember when I was about seven I started getting frustrated because I would go through all my books in the first few days of the week and then be out until Saturday. I started taking my bookbag with me. I made my uncle (in his teens) take one, too. We crammed anywhere from thirty to sixty books into those bags and carried more with us.

The only reason we got away with it (because there was a 20 book limit) was because we had six library cards between the three of us--i had mine and my mom's, my uncle had his, his best friends, and my grandma's, and the library dude was nice enough to lend us his if we needed it.

So yeah. On a good week, I got about seventy books. That's ten books a day.

(I should explain that I still went to school. I went to public school with plenty of kids who hated reading enough for all of us. I had teachers who either insisted I was some kind of genius--i wasnt--or banished me to the hallway for reading Jane Austen during reading time when they specifically said to pick something at the class reading level. I know this life. It's kinda sucky.)

So yeah. Ten books a day, seven days a week, for fifty-two weeks. I got through the entire small-town library (4000 books) in just over a year.

Yes, I even read the reference books. Yes, I had to ask for help with some of the more sophisticated books in the library. (Yes, I skipped a few of the research books. I was eight. Sue me.)

What I'm saying is that it is realistic for me to have Keith reading 5 or 6 thousand books a year for eight years, because in this story he has LITERALLY NOTHING ELSE TO DO.

His dad homeschools him without schooling him at all (unschooling, look it up on wikipedia--yes I know it probably doesn't work like that, but it's my AU and I do what I want). Then his dad dies when he's just over eight and he's alone in the house for a year. Just books to keep him company.

Then (after meeting Sam Holt) he starts trekking out to the Garrison, creeping around the halls and camping out in the library when he feels like it.

He makes friends with the campus librarian. Professors give him books for his birthday. At twelve, he got Sam and Dos Santos to help him build a room onto the old shack so his books weren't just lying wherever in the house. The room has twelve bookcases (three on each wall) each with five shelves (60 shelves total) and full of books (about 2000 books total, give or take).

He doesn't socialize a lot (he's still Keith) but it's not that he doesn't want to. It's just that he's awkward (he's still KEITH). If people would stick around for a while (more than ten minutes), he's actually really cool and funny, even if he's a little defensive/shorttempered/oblivious/clueless.

(Just because you're smart and read a lot doesn't mean you understand everything. Just because you know how to make jokes doesn't mean you always catch them or that you understand idioms or innuendos or anything that isn't straight talk.)

His jokes are literature based. He uses sarcasm a lot even though half the time it comes out wrong. He identifies with both Darcy and Elizabeth on a spiritual level.

He has a room at Dos Santos' that has a bookcase full of composition notebooks, themselves full of notes on all the books he's read, little doodles of scenes he really likes, and jokey little summaries of long reference passages.

He's a nerd who never had to learn how to socialize with real people. He LIKES people. He's not a robot, and he doesn't automatically hate you on sight.

He's just been through a lot in his life, and he's still just a lonely little kid.

Anyway. Keith reads about twenty fiction/short books some days, four longer reference/textbook books other days. It varies. It took him six hours to get through Under the Dome, and there was one time he read eleven aeronautics manuals in eight hours and then passed out for fourteen, but mostly he takes longer for reference books/textbooks than fiction books/memoirs.

Also he's read the dictionary/thesaurus like forty times by the time he's thirteen and he shows ZERO sign of stopping. It's basically a religion at this point.

So let me break this down again:

Garrison library has 50,000 books. Minus 10,000 because they're copies/lame editions. That's 40,000 books.

1000 are reference books or random (small, informational or entertaining, don't fit a special category) books, 25000 are nonfiction/memoir/diagram based/school or lesson based, and 14000 are nonfiction.

Keith starts reading at five. His first five hundred are done when he's six--he starts on the next five hundred and finishes within months. His dad starts asking for larger shipments.

By the time Keith is seven, he's read 2000 books.

We're down to 38,000 books in the Garrison library.

Between seven and eight, he reads another 3000. Down to 35,000 books in the Garrison library.

A couple months later (500 books down, 34,500 to go) his dad dies. He's alone in the house for 10 months, only books to keep him company.

He reads another 4,000 books in this time. By the time he turns nine, he's reading at a high school level. 30,500 to go.

Sam visit on his ninth birthday. He brings more books, invites him to visit the Garrison sometime. The librarian could use some company.

Keith does.

By the time he's ten, he's read another 6,500 books. It's a really good year. 24,000 to go.

Age 10-11: 6,000 books. 18,000 to go.

Age 11-12: 5,750 books.12,250 to go

He's turning 13 in a few weeks. This year he has so far read 5,375 books. He wants to hit 5500 again. For the five year anniversary.

It's not a good year. He's not feeling great. He starts talking to Matt more than he used to. Matt pushes him a little. He says he can do it. Keith believes him. He's never lied to him before.

(That Keith knows of. What goes to his benefit is unnecessary knowledge for him.)

He hits 5,500. 6,750 to go.

This is where I am now.

Now by all accounts, there are a few notes I should make.

There is a portion of books at Keith's home that he has not read. They are books the librarian gave him because she knew he hadn't read them before they were getting rotated out for a new shipment. This is probably 500 books.

That makes the total 7,250.

Less than ten thousand.

He has read 33,250 books in eight years (ages 5 to 13). Average: 4156.25 books per year, 11.3 books per day.

I'm almost twenty and I read 55,383 books between the ages of 4 and 18 (between the first book I read at home and the last book I read before my graduation ceremony). Average: 3955.93~ books per year, 10.8 books per day.

I didn't have a lot of friends. I was bffs with every librarian I met/had. In 10th grade world history we had to give one cool/weird fact in an introductory assignment and I told them I had read every book in the school library. No one believed me. I told them I could prove it. She said go ahead.

"I have read every book in the school library. The librarian can vouch for me. They have not rotated their books since I was in eighth grade. My grandmother works here, so I know. There are exactly 17,488 books in the library, not including extra copies or "editions" like all they did was change two sentences in the intro that's hardly new information. But whatever. I started reading that year. I made a list of every book i read that year. There were 3272. That's 14216 to go--all of which were in the fiction and nonfiction sections. My grandmother checked them out. If you go into her records from that year and take that list and add it to my list from last year in 9th grade, you'll see that I read every single book. I started with the reference section that year and then went to the manga, then the nonfiction, then the historical fiction, then the fantasy fiction. I had already read most of the books in the fiction section. 6,791 out of 7,918 to be exact. That's 7425 to go. I'd also read 3577 if the 6298 nonfiction books. That's 3848 to go. Over the course of the last school year, which lasted exactly 42 weeks, I checked out 30 books every Monday and 50 books every Thursday. That's eighty books every week. Times 42, that's 3360. 488 left. I hung out with my grandmother while she worked over the summer. I kept my reading up, only for the first half. By the end of July--the 29th--I had read the rest. That's nine books a day every day. Don't believe me? Ask the librarian."

So the teacher did.

She put the librarian on speakerphone.

The librarian went on a full ten minute rant about how ridiculously difficult it was checking out fifty books at a time.

My history teacher wouldn't come within 2ft of my desk until after holiday break, and she didn't go into the library at all that year.

Moral of the story: IT IS TOTALLY LOGICAL/ACCEPTABLE THAT I HAVE KEITH READING OVER 30,000 BOOKS IN EIGHT YEARS IN THIS FIC OKAY PLEASE DON'T COME AT ME OVER THIS

#me #omg #mine #my post #long post #sorry for the rant #sorry for the spam #sorry for the long post #rant #my rant #reading #keith reads a lot okay #my fic #voltron fic #my vld fic that i'm writing

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demyrie · 6 years

Text

Hanakotoba (Camelias are for Longing)

Summary: Three (two) mischievous teachers have some questions about a certain Symbol of Peace and his old arch-nemesis, the reformed "Nature’s Revenge” villain Mandrake. So how did this turn into a discussion about the secret language of flowers?

Tags: oneshot, OTeach3 goodness, flustered Toshinori, mention of sex, implications that there are MHA in-world hero fanzines with dirty content because there fucking are, vague one-sided All Might/OC reference, light Erasermight because I have no self-control, random flowershop AU nod

Notes: I love the superhero genre really I do, including steamy archenemy chemistry. This came out of ... so many things, but mostly a need to embarrass Toshinori and have the OTeach3 fangirl/fanboy out. Enjoy.

Yagi Toshinori was finally, finally getting into the swing of teaching. He no longer became lost in UA's labyrinthine hallways and had committed to a briefcase for his materials, which 13 had courteously alphabetized with charming space-themed dividers. He even took his lunch break every day and the relentlessness of education – most of all the sense there was always something to be catching up on or looking over to better his students' experiences – left him so little time to truly worry or think about his old life that it almost seemed as if he had left the hyper-vigilance and cutthroat instincts of All Might in the past.

That is, until he entered the staffroom one afternoon and a very particular threesome of heroes instantly fell silent and turned to face him and the fine hair on his arms rose in definite warning.

Supremely startled, Toshinori gave Kayama, Yamada and Aizawa a halting smile before ducking his head and heading in, their joint gaze drilling into his back all the while. The terrible three let him get as far as the counter and the electric kettle: As soon as he had filled the kettle for tea and turned it on, there was a stifled rustle and somebody ostentatiously cleared their throat.

“Heyyyy, so, Yagi-san! My man!”

Yamada-san, of course. The frontman for their less savory ideas.

“How can I help you, Yamada-san?” he asked unsurely, still not quite willing to turn around, and so busied himself with righting the tea box. The kettle creaked to life far too slowly. Escape was not an option.

“Psh, I told you to call me Mic!” came the rejoinder, brash and indulgent. With a creak of leather that implied he was leaning back or settling in, 'Mic' continued, tone almost wheedling. “I mean, you've been with us long enough, you're part of the UA family! In fact, All Might, big guy, I feel like we're really close now. Aren't we? I feel like we are.”

“Stop,” Aizawa's deep voice cut in, almost making Toshinori jump. Something was strange about the command, but was Aizawa really that opposed to him fitting in?

“I'm, ah … maybe?” Toshinori mumbled as he turned around, unable to delay it any longer in the name of politeness. Even as he knew it was coming, the sight of the three of them arranged around the staffroom table and watching him unblinkingly made him tense down to his toes and feel like he was stepping into a network of boobytraps. Human boobytraps. Confirming his fears, Mic tilted his head, grinning.

“Soooo can I ask you something?”

“Don't do it,” Aizawa said loudly, unmoving behind his battered UA laptop. Mic ignored him, instead knocking his green glasses down his nose with roguish panache.

“Be honest with me, big guy. Did you and Mandrake ever get it on?”

“Did Mandrake and I – pardon me?” Toshinori gasped, mouth falling open. If he had been holding a mug, he would have dropped it.

They erupted into peals of laughter – or Kayama and Mic did, shoving and slapping at each other, while Aizawa shook his head and glared determinedly at his laptop screen, resuming his typing with clear annoyance.

“That means no,” Mic snorted when he found the breath, a hand to his face.

“Or only once, in a fit of long-buried passion only freed by battle!” Midnight screamed, holding a finger underneath her nose as if to abort a nosebleed and stamping her heels underneath the table in glee.

“You guys,” Aizawa sighed so deeply he threatened to deflate on the spot, leaving the older hero looking between them all open-mouthed with a pounding heart. He was missing something – he had to be – and couldn't put the pieces together. Was this new slang, or a joke? What connection could be made between one of his first arch-nemeses and sex?

“What? I'm afraid I don't understand. This was in order … to … defeat him?” Toshinori eked out, a hand to his (apparently weak) heart.

At that, Mic started laughing so hard Aizawa had to Erase him briefly or risk losing the entirety of the faculty lounge mug collection, the lift of his tangled hair as lackluster as the glare Eraserhead was fixing him with.

“Oooh! Is that how you did it, during that showdown in the thunderstorm?” Midnight cooed, giving a saucy wink. She wiggled in her chair. “We always wondered. The broadcast went dark, after all.”

“No!” Toshinori yelped as the heat rose in his neck, threatening to choke him even more than these preposterous theories. He shook his head, bangs wagging frantically. “No, please, why are we talking about Mandrake like this? He's reformed, you know, and a very valuable member of the League!”

“Yeah, which means you saw his potential even then, right?” Mic wheezed, patting his throat with a glance at his best friend, like a promise not to go supersonic again. Then he sighed, pillowing his cheek on his fist. “Dude, even I gotta admit, when you guys were enemies? Before you were frenemies? You had this vibe. All the staring. All the sweaty battles and the weird, possessive pride he took in being your rival and the way you kept swearing to bring him to justice with your own two hands.”

Toshinori waited for something further to clarify the string of technically objective statements, heinously lost. Mic shrugged.

“Like, you were clearly banging.”

“But we weren't,” Toshinori protested, little more than a rasp.

“What Mic is saying is that there was tension there. And it was kinda horny,” Kayama said evenly with a pass of her tongue over her lips, blue eyes gleaming. Aghast and frozen, Toshinori looked to Aizawa, who he could count on to be objective if nothing else. To his despair, the Erasing hero shrugged.

“Above average levels of horny,” he mumbled, continuing to type.

“I mean, that was pretty much the whole Golden Age arch nemesis vibe if I'm gonna be honest,” Midnight said with a throaty sigh, leaning back. “Like, soooooo much could have been solved if you'd just dropped trow.”

“She has some X-rated fanzines from academy if you want a step by step,” Mic snickered, earning himself a fond and entirely proud whack on the shoulder from the pervert in question.

“I ...” Toshinori said into his hand, singularly mortified. “O-oh my.”

“Please ignore my sex-obsessed idiots,” Aizawa said just loudly enough to be heard over his friends demented snickering. “They haven't been outside today and it's clearly warping their minds.”

“I haven't been outside in weeks,” Mic boasted, turning a gleaming insane grin toward Toshinori. “It's finals!”

“You can breathe, Yagi-san, you know we're just teasing you,” Midnight assured him after a moment, clearly trying to put him at ease. “We all know things were still a little rough back then and everyone had their little tensions and melodramas. We just thought, since we had the source right here, we could put a silly rumor to rest and –”

But Toshinori had a hand over his eyes and was frozen against the counter, towering body as stiff as a board. Midnight tilted her head.

“Um, Yagi-san?”

“I'm just … thinking ...” he began hoarsely. He dropped the concealing hand and took a deep breath and realized, self-consciously clutching his arm, that the entire table was looking up at him with wide eyes. Even Aizawa, and that was saying something.

“After Mandrake reformed and we had our first meeting as the League, at Tokyo hall, he … well, he sent me a gift. Personally.”

“And?” Midnight gasped, a hand to her chest. Mic grabbed her elbow, leaning in and nodding vigorously.

“And he asked me to see him as more than an ally,” he finished very quietly. There was a beat where the staffroom was profoundly silent, the only sound the labored hissing of the electric kettle.

“Did heeeeee ask you to see him as a brother? Maybe?” Mic offered somewhat hopelessly, wincing.

“No,” Toshinori mumbled, feeling his neck warm horribly again. “Just more than.”

“And you thought that was him being honorable and polite,” Aizawa said flatly, clearly extremely disappointed in him.

“It was both honorable and polite, what else was I supposed to think?” Toshinori protested, long fingers tangling desperately with his tie. “Our history as rivals was all the news outlets were talking about at the time and I-I didn't have any context!”

“Well, what was the gift?” Mic asked. “That should have given you some context, huh?”

“It was …” Toshinori paused, and excruciatingly so. Seeing the three of them lean forward, eyes widening even further, Toshinori ducked into his hand again. “A very tasteful flower arrangement.”

It was a curious thing, to hear three people gasp in unison and with such a sense of outrage.

“I had just moved in to a new agency, so I thought ...” he began reedily, knowing how idiotic it sounded even as it left his mouth.

“What kind of flowers?”

Now it was everyone's turn to stare and blink at Midnight, who frowned at him and flipped her silky hair over her shoulder.

“A former villain with a Quirk that controls and creates plant life, who once made Tokyo tower into an absolutely gorgeous trellis during one of his attempts to take over the city, and you didn't think to look for hanakotoba?”

“I thought they were very nice,” was all Toshinori could offer, to the raucous groaning of the assembled heroes and, apparently, the sole retainers of common sense. It was clear that none of them were going to let him walk out of the staff room without entirely embarrassing himself – even Aizawa was committed at this point, possibly through spite alone – so Toshinori grimaced and thought back.

“It was … mostly white and red and yellow. Very densely petaled white flowers, so, camelia I think? Also bigger ones, with thick white splayed petals, possibly gardenias. There were red carnations, forget-me-nots ... daffodils. Oh, and one giant sunflower.”

He listed them off with a frown, plundering the very shallow depths of his horticultural know-how and the distant memory that had previously been a blip on his radar in terms of potential love confessions. Luckily, they were all relatively common flowers even if the arrangement itself was bursting with professional skill. It had been beautiful, he realized with a surge of regret, and thoughtful and Mandrake had been very odd about delivering it. Personally. With minimal eye-contact or explanation. He cleared his throat.

“That's it. The wrapping was blue, too, so I thought it very kind that he'd, er, matched my color scheme.”

For a moment, Midnight just looked up at him. And looked. And looked. And then slowly, delicately put a hand to her head and sighed.

“So. Starting with the least suspicious of the bunch, daffodils mean deep respect. So that's nice.”

The predatory look on her face indicated that 'nice' was a horrendous understatement for what was to follow. She ticked them off on her perfectly manicured fingers with a widening cheshire grin.

“Carnations could be fascination or love depending on the color, but if they were red, that's no question. Gardenias mean secret love. Forget-me-nots are for true love. Sunflowers are for passionate love and radiance. And camelias mean –”

“Longing,” Aizawa finished sourly, glaring up at the older hero as if personally affronted.

“Dude?” Mic whispered, staring at his best friend like he was dreaming. Aizawa, caught, snorted and forcibly returned to his work.

“You know my parents are florists,” he muttered, looking a little angry that the buried knowledge had escaped him in front of his friends. Mic cackled obnoxiously then seemed to catch up on all of the righteous indignation that he should have been feeling, abruptly cutting himself off and whirling to look at Toshinori with an open mouth.

“It was a love confession! Mandrake went out on a limb for you, Yagi-san! A rickety, be-flowered tree limb of secret love!” he exclaimed, deeply offended and deeply loud. He covered his mouth just for effect. “I bet you didn't even text him back, you cad.”

“Actually, we didn't have texting at the time, so ...” Toshinori shook his head and refocused on the unfortunate conversation and the even less fortunate truth. He sighed heavily, brow furrowed. “Oh my. I genuinely thought it was a peace offering of sorts. Considering.”

“The only peace he was offering was a piece of ass,” Aizawa snorted, apparently unable to keep himself out of the conversation. Midnight barked out a laugh and Toshinori coughed so sharply that bright red blood streaked his lips, hastily bending and yanking a worn handkerchief out of his pocket.

“Aizawa-kun, please!” he croaked through the cloth, mortified. Aizawa shrugged and Mic sat his chin on his hands again, pouting.

“Dude, you missed out. I bet he really loved you.”

“Oh shut up Mic, don't say such irresponsible things,” Midnight scolded him, smacking the back of his head.

Mic whined back and they devolved into familiar bickering over the best way to confess love or what obligations came with what kinds of confessions, including what kinds of confessions they had made in their youth and what they had really expected from it. Despite his friends wheedling, Aizawa's contributions were limited to refusing to indulge them on any further knowledge on the language of flowers and ordering them to get back to work and do something useful for once. The usual.

Somehow finding himself passed over as the center of attention, Toshinori quietly filled his mug with hot water, picked a teabag and made a hasty exit while they were distracted, frowning all the while.

“They feel bad for bringing it up.”

Toshinori looked up from where he sat on his customary lunch bench, blinking at the combination of direct sunlight and the unexpected shadow of Aizawa Shouta hanging over him.

He had just come outside for a little bit of fresh air and Aizawa's approaches were unrivaled in stealth, leaving him little room to react. Stunned, Toshinori didn't respond, or he didn't respond quickly enough, so his fellow instructor continued, regarding him with little patience over the crest of his coiled capture weapon.

“Mic and Nemuri. They feel bad for bringing up you and Mandrake.” When Toshinori still couldn't find anything to say, Aizawa sighed heavily, crossing his arms and glaring into the distance where the children milled around on the green, in the sun. “Because it's obvious that you're taking it hard and you're distracted. Upset.”

As little as he spoke, Aizawa was nothing if not observant: Toshinori was certainly distracted and he was certainly upset and he had no idea how to deal with either.

Tangling with such a delayed and important realization had consumed him over the past few days and showed no sign of slowing, especially when he thought about what the next step should be. He was lost in thoughts and regrets, trying without success to triangulate his and Mandrake's rocky relationship over the years and the battles: what it was, and what his now-comrade hoped it could have been. He felt paralyzed, mentally stuck in his doorway on that day and endlessly replaying how jaunty and utterly dismissive he must have seemed in taking the bouquet. The confession.

How could he have done such a thing? How could he not have known? It was all too much, but was it too late?

So, in keeping with his preceding uselessness, Toshinori just cleared his throat and tapped his long fingers together, looking askance. He hoped that Aizawa would give in to their general lack of accord and bad track record and consider his professional duty done with this short inquiry. Be on his way, and leave him to his guilt.

Then, of all things, Aizawa sighed again and took a seat next to him on the bench with peak reluctance, making the hair go up on the older heroes neck.

What, exactly, was happening? Did Kayama and Yamada send him to scold him back into shape again? It was too strange and too unprecedented and suddenly he hardly remembered how to breathe normally.

“How long ago was it?” the homeroom teacher asked, lacing his hands between his knees and staring out at the sun-soaked grass. Once again, as if the man had bound him in his carbon fiber reins, there was clearly no escape. Toshinori swallowed audibly, nudging his own knees closer together to make room.

“Eight … maybe nine years ago.” Toshinori sighed heavily and shook his head. “He did put himself out on a limb, and after we'd been through so much ... It must have taken a lot of courage. Regardless of how long it's been, I have an apology to make.”

“And what would you be apologizing for?” Aizawa asked. “For not knowing what he meant, or for not feeling the same way?”

Toshinori looked over at him, startled, and Aizawa boldly met his gaze, silent and expectant. It was probably the most words they had exchanged in their entire relationship and Toshinori was caught between the urge not to mess up and the urge to just run away, out from under this exacting man's eyes. And the question itself?

There was so much history between the two of them, it was hard to parse. There was the basic shame of not knowing what he meant, not understanding the gesture or the weight of it, true … but also the pervasive regret that he had personally let Mandrake down. Someone who had very strong feelings for him, and yet those feelings were unreturned. Mandrake was a good hero and a better man and Toshinori felt blindly guilty that he had disappointed him in such a personal and heartless way, so what was there to do but apologize?

“Both, I suppose,” he admitted, frowning down at his shoes.

At that, Aizawa shook his head impatiently.

“That's the problem with you. You'll take any excuse to feel guilty,” he snorted, the sheer derision in his tone making the older hero want to shrink into his oversized jacket. “It's no shame you weren't interested in him, but a decade later you're acting like it was a poor personal choice you made out of spite.”

It was all Toshinori could do to stare at him, skin chilling nonsensically. Aizawa continued, relentless.

“It's a useless apology, one that doesn't deserve the breath it would take to say it. The world isn't in your hands anymore, All Might, and sometimes misunderstandings happen. Especially when there are flowers involved, which is a poor substitute for actual communication,” he finished grimly, like he had a lifetime of flower drama stories locked away in his childhood. Then he shrugged, absently scratching at his unshaven chin.

“That's life and you have to let it go and move forward. Otherwise you'll drown in what you didn't do and be of no use to anyone, yourself included.”

Toshinori didn't know what to say to that, at first, as shock and offense and denial warred in him. Then it came to him, because it was really rather simple.

“Ah. Thank you, Aizawa-kun,” he said hesitantly. Smiled. “He's a good man and a good friend, but maybe it's a little too far along for these kinds of regrets. You ... I think you might be right.”

It wasn't exactly a revelation, after all. He could very well be a sentimental old fool prone to self-castigation for things he had no control over. Maybe.

Next to him, Aizawa snorted and quickly stood, their strange truce apparently over in an instant. Had his friends really sent him, or was this something he had chosen to do on his own? Toshinori really knew nothing about him. He watched in dual discomfort and curiosity as the younger hero paused to instill a few eyedrops and shake out his tangled mane, grimacing.

“Just stop brooding,” Aizawa said when he'd finished, replacing his eyedrops in his utility belt and shoving his hands in his pockets as he turned to go. He glanced over his shoulder. “You're winding my idiots up and it doesn't fit your type.”

“Ah, am I encroaching on your edgy Underground style?” Toshinori called after him, chuckling, but Aizawa was already gone around the corner, leaving the Symbol of Peace sitting on a warm bench with nothing but the distant chatter of students and the breeze for company. Despite the scraped feeling of being scolded in such a way, he felt lighter already. Simpler.

Perhaps, instead of an apology, he would send Mandrake a flower arrangement. A very … platonic flower arrangement, full of respect and appreciation. Focus on what he could offer, instead of what he couldn't. He felt a faint heat in his face and hid a smile from no one in particular.

Maybe he would ask Aizawa for help in putting it together.

#erasermight #bnha #all might #toshinori yagi #boku no hero academia

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ssnakey-b · 6 years

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FF8 Translarison, Part 1: Back to... university?

Hello everybody and welcome to the first part of my comparative look at the English and French translations of Final Fantasy VIII! And yes, I have decided to call it “Translarison”. Because it's a TRANSLAtion compARISON, you see. BTW, I shall use “Translarison” as a tag if you want to search for these specific posts more easily.

The main reason why I wanted to do this was that, being French, I obviously grew up with the French version of the game but a few years ago, out of curiosity, I played through the game in English after hearing about some minor differences, and discovered that there were a lot more than what I'd been told, to the point that certain characters, scenes and even subplots come across completely differently.

On top of that, I just found some of the different choices in translation conventions very interesting, and possibly quite telling of cultural differences, so comparing the two fascinated me.

I also found it interesting that in some aspects, the French version seems to be based off the original Japanese scripts, yet in others, it seems too close to the English one to be a coincidence. It's weird, to the point if I wonder if the translator(s) used both versions as sources (assuming the English translation was already finished while the French one was being worked on). But then, there are also a lot of things that don’t match either (especially when it comes to names), so it’s also interesting to see when the translator took some liberties.

Gonna tell you now, maybe it's just out of nostalgia but overall, I do prefer the French one as the characters generally come out better in my opinion, but there are parts where I like the English one better, and I will of course point those out.

Now, let me explain how I intend to work on this thing. Although this is sort of a Let's Play as I will go through the game and comment on it, it won't be a complete one as I will focus specifically on translation differences and analyse the most interesting ones (as it would get tedious to do so for every line of dialogue where all I'd have to say is “they pretty much say the thing, except in French), so I will skip around. I may give my opinions on random moments from the game if I feel particularly strongly about them, but like I said, it won’t be the focus. If you do want to know my thoughts on every bit of the game, you can read a more traditional Let’s Play I wrote here: http://officialfan.proboards.com/thread/536741/french-version-final-fantasy-finale

I do intend to be as thorough as possible and highlight stuff from side-quests, but obviously I won't be able to cover everything considering there are parts where you need to split the party up and you can't change it until way later. Hm... maybe I could go through those again with different configurations as bonus content. NOT A PROMISE.

It is also important to note that I am an amateur doing this for fun. I apologize in advance if some of my interpretations are a bit off. I can however guarantee that my schedule will never slip as my schedule is “whenever I feel like it”. Keep in mind I'm doing this on my free time and it takes a lot of time to go through it, especially since I have to go through it twice for this.

One last thing before we begin: do not hesitate to ask questions. I just realized I didn't have an “ask” button active on my blog, so I activate just for this, but of course you can also ask me stuff any other way you'd like. Oh, and feel free to request me looking at specific stuff from the game. As much of a ridiculous fanboy as I am for this game, even I don't remember or know everything about it (which is why it remains so fascinating so many years later!), and I probably won't think of re-visiting locations on my own if they aren't tied to a side-quest.

Right, that's enough blabbering, let's get to the actual game!

Nothing to say about the opening cutscene as it is still in English even in the French version, so let’s head straight for the infirmary. Not much different so far, though I do find this bit interesting. When Quistis arrives, in the English version, she says:

But in the French version, she says:

Which translates to “Good lord! I knew it would end badly”. You get the same idea in both versions, that Quistis is used to Squall and Seifer fighting and getting into trouble, I just find it interesting that one version chose to specifically name the characters, whereas the other chose to focus more on Quistis lamenting her students’ behaviour. I should also point out that logically, Quistis must have picked up Seifer first, so the French version makes a bit more sense because, well... of course you knew it’d be him, you must already be aware of what happened.

Also, note how the French version doesn’t have quotation marks. While I think it looks better without them, I can see why the English version does that as it shows more explicitly that the names aren’t part of the dialogue.

The conversation between the two in the hallway is very similar in both versions but there is one thing I find funny:

There’s a line in the English version where Squall says “I am more complex than you think” which is pretty much word-for-word the same in French, but Quistis’ reaction is different. In the English version, she just asks him to tell her more about himself, while the French one, she uses the above line. You see, “complexé” is a word that pretty much means “hung up”, so she’s teasing him about his attitude.

I really like this dynamic between the two because whereas the characters’ angst is usually glorified in other FF games, here Quistis is seeing right through him (with her Laser Eyes!) and is having none of his crap. Also, it’s one of the few times the characters are being a bit more rude than in the English one. Not that Quistis is really being mean, but you get the idea.

On an unrelated note, I never noticed it before but as they pass by, there’s a dude who checks out Quistis and two girls look at Squall and then giggle to themselves. I love little details like that.

Next, we get to the classroom. Still only minor differences, like Quistis saying that “it won’t be a surprise to anyone” that the field test is this afternoon whereas the English version has her mention there have been rumours, which kind of implies that they just drop on the kids that they’re gonna partake in a genuine battle at the last minute.

As any seasoned FF8 player knows, the first thing to do is to pick up our trusty Guardian Forces, Shiva and...

... Golgotha?! Yes, here is the first renaming of the game. Give it a round of applause! It’s an odd one, seemingly a reference to the hill Jesus of Nazareth was crucified on. I guess it’s because the creature has a vaguely crucifix-like shape when it spreads its wings. I have to admit Quetzalcoatl is more fitting as it is a reptilian-looking flying creature, so it’s close to a winged serpent, but I guess Golgotha is less of a pain to pronounce, and it actually fits with the character limit.

Not much else of note aside from the fact that in the Garden Square forum, Almasy is misspelled as Almassy. And considering how much of an ass Seifer is, it seems fitting. Also, one of the students uses the initials J.I in the English version whereas they use O.S. in the French one, and I don’t know why.

Quistis tells us to meet her at the front gate, we leave and bump into Selphie, setting up the romance between the two. Oh wait, no. Don’t know if it was intentional, but I always loved that they played with the old “bump into each other at school” cliché by NOT having the two characters get romantically involved. And it goes to show how overdone it was that even my 11-years-old self was aware of it.

I prefer when Squall is slightly less antisocial so I have him give Selphie a short tour of Balamb Garden University. Yes, Balamb Garden University. In what is in my opinion one of the more interesting minor changes, the Gardens are referred to as universities. And although the other two retain their original names, B-Garden is indeed known as Balamb Garden University (and yes, they keep the name in English), or BGU for short.

I realize that when you think about it, it doesn’t really make sense since they teach children below college age and in fact, considering the max age to apply for SeeD is 20, they wouldn’t have that many college-age students, but I like the more academic-sounding name. Come to think of it, Balamb Garden Academy would probably make more sense. Oh well.

Not that much different regarding the map but I wanted to show off the fact that even on pre-rendered stuff, the text usually is translated, which again is a nice attention to detail (although accents are omitted for some reason, which makes me think perhaps the graphics were updated using a non-European keyboard).

Well, time to look around good old Balamb Garden University. First stop, the quad (or campus, in French), for two odd changes. First, there’s a generic male student who explains that all members of the festival committee have been dispatched around the world. In the English version, he then explains that in spite of Selphie’s enthusiasm, it doesn’t seem likely it’s gonna happen:

But in the French version, he instead says that their task is to solve armed and political conflicts:

And on the same screen is one of the weirder changes. In the English version,Selphie asks Squall if he’s interested in what she’s doing. In the French one, though, she asks if he’s interested in her. But more bizarrely, in the French version, instead of the generic “Interested/not interested” choices, the first option is “a little bit (physically)”.

And in both versions, she then tells him that in that case, he should join the festival committee. Naughty French Selphie, using sex-appeal to get new members! But now, get ready to have your mind blown as we head for the cafeteria and we meet the Disciplinary Committee, because..

... French Fujin can actually use her adult words! In fact, pretty much none of the language tics found in the English version have made it to the French one, so Raijin doesn’t go “ya know?” all the time either and indeed, French Squall doesn’t say “Whatever” either.

And frankly, good riddance as far as I’m concerned. I assume it’s something the English translator(s) added and I hate it. It might be funny for five minutes, but it completely kills characterization and I hate losing development for the sake of “OH! HE SAID IT! IT KEEPS GETTING FUNNIER AND NOT ANNOYING AT ALL THE MORE YOU DO IT!”

But if you thought THAT was crazy, hold on to your underwear because here comes another bombshell:

BOOM!! Hot dogs have been replaced with pretzels! Or as we like to call it where they actually come from (and yes, I do live in France but my region also has them as a local dish), bretzels. With a B. Apparently, in the original Japanese, it was a special kind of bread instead. No idea how many more localizations there are. It’s a bit weird that they went with pretzels too, as it’s very specific to some areas of Europe, whereas hot-dogs are also famous here (which lends credence to my theory that the French version was made independently from the English one).

Anyway, take a minute to pick up the shattered pieces of your world and let’s continue. You know these faculty guys with their rice hats? Well for starters, they’re referred to as “templier” (which means “templar”) in the French version. Also, there’s one hanging around the library and when you talk to him, in the English version, he calls Squall a “problem child” whereas in the French version, he calls him “the famous Squall”.

I kind of like the English version a little bit more, if only for how bluntly tactless the guy is being (why, he’s almost as bad as Squall!), and yeah... “problem child” is putting it lightly.

Inside the library is another small change that I find amusing. You know this short-haired girl near the draw point?

Well, in the French version, she says she wishes they had “olé-olé” books, which... is a term that can’t really be translated directly but basically means “naughty” or “smutty”. So yeah, if you thought the English version was being too subtle for you when she said she likes “romance novels”, you can rest assured she absolutely means the Harlequin kind of “romance”.

But enough lolligagging, let’s head for the Fire Cavern, which in French has become the Mines de Soufre, or Sulfur Mines. And here we already have one of the most interesting changes in the game. You know how in the English version, there is this dialogue:

Well, in the French version, it goes like this:

That’s right, the French version goes in a completely different direction, almost the exact opposite, in fact. Now, I remember reading that in the Japanese version, Quistis says something very similar to the English one and Squall thinks to himself “you’re a TEACHER”, meaning he doesn’t approve of how lightly she’s taking her role, so it’s probably a misinterpretation on the French translator’s part, but I love that version.

For starters, I think it speaks volume about Quistis. It highlights her insecurities about being a teacher, and students questioning her credibility due to her young age and lack of experience, while being oblivious to the fact that... yeah, being all alone with an attractive woman about their age , whose weapon of choice is a whip, would distract quite a few students. Hell, it seems to suggest she doesn’t even realize how absurdly beautiful she is. In every version, she deflects it by saying she’s only joking, but still, it seems there is more truth to it than she lets on.

But it also gives Squall more personality, showing that for his cold demeanour, he’s not a robot and he isn’t insensitive to an attractive woman’s charm,and he even shows a bit of a sense of humour. That shows a surprisingly large amount of layers on both characters for such a small bit of dialogue.

Also, the English version makes Quistis come across as more flirtatious, whereas the French one makes her seem more naive, despite her efforts to look like a tough instructor. And this shows one of the major differences between the English and French versions as the kind of romantic subtext between the two is very much downplayed here.

I like that a lot because while many people like to think that Quistis does have romantic feelings for Squall, or at least used to have some, I always found it very refreshing to have two fictional characters of opposite genders who work together and are just friends.

That’s not to say she wouldn’t question her feelings and whether or not they truly are platonic at some point, it seems unlikely that it would never come up, but I find the idea that her relationship with Squall is more friendly or sisterly a lot more interesting than yet another romantic sub-plot.

There isn’t really anything else to mention for the rest of the test so I think I’ll end this part here. And next time, we’ll be taking a look at the assault on Dollet!

I hope you all enjoyed this first part. Please feel free to comment and discuss and once again, do not hesitate to ask questions. Oh and if you liked it, a reblog would be nice to help spread the word. Thank you very much and see you soon!

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