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sinning-23 · 9 months

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My Latest crush is an alien car from space

SO this is the quick 1-3part fanfic I wrote in reference to the little post I made about mirage a couple days ago! Only a couple things changed and the stuff mentioned in the post prior will come up in later parts (here's the link to that if you didn't see it)

Okay so let’s just push all the events of the movie…now lmao I use a lot of current terms that would t have been used in the 80’s so let’s just keep everything the same…accepts it’s 2020-2023 yeah? Great! Fantastic! Uhhh enjoy shawty!

(heres the link to pt2 hotties <3)

Intro/Pt.1

Hot girl summer postponed

“How am I supposed to do hoodrat things with my friends if you won’t fix this already!” You whine, resting your hip against the side of the beat-up Porsche. The paint was chipped and scraped, the seats were old and dusty and the oils it leaked stained the garage floor and the damn hood wouldn’t close.

In short, it was kinda shitty. And a stick shift? Who the fuck drove the stick anymore?

Your dad only dusts his hands in his pants and sighs. It’s his fault for spoiling you rotten that you’d beg for a car now, and it was also his fault for promising it in the first place.

“First of all, there will be no hoochie mama floozy business in my house.” You roll your eyes at the outdated term and shoot back with a reply.

“That’s fine! I said hoodrat anyway!”

He interrupts you, pinching the bridge of his nose, great hair practically springing out his head.

“NONE of that either. Tell you what, if you can apply for two more apartments it’s yours.

You throw your hands up.

“Dad, what?! You know I hate being alone and you’re getting old! You’re gonna need a caretaker.” You reply with a bit of sarcasm and he raised a brow and the not-so-subtle insult.

“I’m not a senior citizen y/n. Just do it.” He replies back, ending the conversation with a peck to your forehead.

“Not with the way your knees popped earlier!” You call back as he closes the door on you.

You groan, pushing off the car you were leaning against and tabbing the roof, an audible ‘thunk’ sounding.

“Soon shawty, you’ll be taking me shopping and clubbing in no time.” You chide, fingers dancing on the slightly lifted hood before you exit.

And before the garage light shut off, the Porsche purred, engine smoking.

____4 months____

It was go time. You’d applied for about 3 more apartments just to appease and overachieve for your father. And on top of that, your girls decided that it was finally time to get you absolutely shit-faced in late honor and celebration of your graduating med school! The only problem was the mode of transportation.

Most of the girls weren’t going to be able to get you and an Uber wasn’t really what you wanted considering there was a perfectly good Porsche sitting in the garage collecting dust. According to dear old dad, he’d already tried time and time again to fix the damn thing but it wasn’t budging, every screw being too tight and every wire seeming to short hit it under his touch. It seems like no use.

“Are you serious? I kept my end of the bargain.” You groan, rolling your eyes at the inconvenience

You’d dad shrugs, throwing the dirty, oiled-up towel over his shoulder.

“Unless you want to try, I suggest you find another means of transportation.” He suggests, leaving you and the busted car alone.

You sigh heavily letting your girls know a reschedule may be on the rise. You pull your French curl braid half up with your alligator clip and lift the hood, the engine was seemingly new, and the design seared into it looked a bit creepy. After brushing your fingers over the symbol, you tighten the hood screws to test if it’d close and sure enough, the problem solved ...kinda.

You still weren't sure this thing started up. That was the main issue. You sigh, pulling the driver seat open and plotting down, dust making you fan your face and try to blow the particles away. The same symbol from before was engraved into the wheel and you brush over it again.

“What a funky-looking symbol. I'm sure nothing a little sparkle won't fix, looks cool tho. Like an alien car thing? Wouldn't that be so silly?” You think out loud, looking in the back seat to see a tattered bomber jacket with silver and blue. Maybe it belonged to the previous owner?

You gasp when the driver's seat scoots forward, keeping you from reaching the jacket. Your chest pressed to the wheel making the horn honk. Gasping you throw your shaky hands up and swallow hard.

“What the fuck…” You whisper out, eyeballing the symbol once again, trying to sneakily reach for the door to make an escape.

It locks, The radio and lights inside flashing off and on as the engine revved filling the garage with smoke and the sound of your panicked screams.

You try and pull the door open but fail again and when the radio buzzes to life you're met with a single song. Taylor Swift was amongst the madness just moments ago.

You need to calm down

You're being too loud

You managed to throw yourself out of the car and scatter back into the house, coughing up the smoke that had still lingered from before. What the hell was that? So maybe it was an alien car. What was meant to become of your hot girl summer? Were you doomed to figure out this possessed car on your own? Exorcise it mayhaps? You stumble up the stairs and pull out your phone. Evidence that's what you needed, evidence.

You stumble back down the stairs, Snapchat fully functional and ready to catch any evidence, and you'd be damned if you didn't go viral without a filter.

Swinging the garage door open you point your camera to the dormant Porche. You're more so angry that you were so scared and you were NOT about to let some poltergeist punk you in the comfort of your own home.

“Yeahhhh motherfucker where all that noise now? HUH? Flash some lights now bitch!” You yell, feeling only slightly insane talking to the inanimate object.

You were met with silence, circling the vehicle with the flash on. Now narration of the prior events, you try to open the driver door only for it to lock. Oh this mf was playing with you. You yell in a fit of rage, smacking the hood.

The car revs and honks at you, the door swinging open to hit your backside, making you trip.

“HA! I GOT YOUR ASS ON CAMERA!” You yelp, camera rolling the entire time. Your breaths are raged but soon become hollow when the car starts to……change.

Your camera hand is shaking and parts of the car begin to shift into legs…waist...torso…arms…. Breath is caught in your throat as the damn near 10 ft tall figure standing before you with its hand in a more so ‘what gives’ position.

“You are so aggressive, lil mama! What’s the deal?” It speaks, and before you could muster a response, your eyelids shut, and your brain powers down.

Its eyes widen at your unconscious state and it sighs.

“All that talk and she faints. Great.”

____________

A breeze hits your face, the sound of traffic slowing to a haunt as does whatever you’re traveling in. It’s a bit easier to breathe now, but your breath is still shallow and your head is somewhat aching. What even happened before this? You were messing with the car and it was..possessed? No no, it was.

You shoot up, head hitting the ceiling. In a panic you try and tug at the seatbelt and escape this demon car, breath bringing to pick up again.

The voice from before speaks over the radio

“Whoa whoa ok calm down I’m just taking you to a friend of mine! I’ll explain everything calm down.”

And surprisingly enough, you do just that. In hindsight, if this thing wanted to kill you it probably would have done it already. You click the seatbelt off, crawling to the front seat. You take a deep breath, manicured fingers ghosting over the wheels before finally gripping it and tracing the symbol again.

“O-Okay. I’m terrified right now. I’m in hella far from my house I’m assuming-“ You’re cut off by the voice again.

“You’d assume correctly.” It speaks

You blink your hand and take another breath. Lil shit had personality. Nod in defeat.

“So…you’re an alien…but also like…a robot? What are you? And why are you a car? And why are you BLUE?” You question, calming down enough to exit the car and wait for a response from the culprit.

It transforms again before your eyes, and you finally have a chance to examine him more. Instead of being afraid and shocked now, you’re more so intrigued. Curiosity engulfs your mind as you ponder its biology. Sure finishing med school required you to know the human body, but the anatomy of an alien and more mecha was intriguing.

You circle it, a newfound confidence flooding you as it tried to explain itself. Manicured fingers can’t help but reach out and touch the smooth-looking metal, the once dusty and scraped not nonexistent over his exterior. Perhaps that was a part of its species' biology, some sort of camouflage. You trace over the license place which appeared to look like more of a tramp stamp given his current transformed state. It reads, ‘MIRAG3’ and you can't help but let your hands wander around and underneath it. It twitched at the sudden touch, arching away from where your hands had touched in protest.

“Can you stop poking around!” It yips, shooing you back.

You scoff rolling your eyes, still observing. This was definitely a scientific breakthrough. No wonder it’s been hidden in its car disguise, you were sure there were plenty of people that wanted to dissect and use it for maybe not-so-good reasons.

“So, do you have a name? Is it Mirage? I can’t keep calling you it in my head, feels rude.” You question, finally taking in its full frame.

It gasps in fake hurt, placing the back of its, hand. Against its forehead? Damn, you needed to learn its anatomy so this would be less of a guessing game.

“Call me Mirage doll.” He flirts, jutting his fist out to seal some sort of camaraderie.

Reluctantly accepting, your plush fist touched his metal one, the metal warmer than you initially expected. Was there more of him? Why was he purposefully blowing his cover? Maybe he was just not as well thought out as the others if there were others.

“Here come inside you should meet everyone else, Noah can explain this better to you too,” Mirage explains, scooting your forebears into the large storage facility as your shoes drag against gravel.

Noah? Like the one that worked at your dad's shop sometimes? Like the one that sold the car in the first place? Your brows furrow hoping that maybe it was a different Noah considering how damn big Brooklyn seemed. The chances of that were slim though with the given information.

Sure enough, walking into the facility was that same Noah, about to speak to Mirage but paused when he realized you were there, and…not panicking? You squint, arms folded over your chest. This mf had a lot of explaining to do and fast.

“Noahhh, wanna tell me why you sold me and my father an ALIEN AUTOMOBILE?” You tell, poking your finger to his chest as he throws his hands up in defense. Time to explain and quickly.

____________

To say you were exhausted was an understatement. Your calves are killing you due to being practically kidnapped before your outing and now your head was throbbing over how much information it just revived. According to Noah, Mr. I sell alien cars here for himself into this mess because he tried to steal Mirage out of a parking lot way back when for a quick cash grab. There was this whole fight with some bad guys? Yeah someone called Unicorn? Unicron! Right, and he was gonna like blow up the world or something but he’s gone now…temporarily-

The point is, you didn’t need aliens right now you needed a margarita and some music to shake your ass too but NONE of that was happening any time soon.

“So, feel like your brains gonna explode?” Mirage jokes, sitting against the wall of the facility and you nod, now sort of comfortable with the idea of, we’ll him in general.

It’s not like you weren’t into conspiracy theories and whatnot, but for something like this to ACTUALLY be real was beyond you. You sigh and run your hands down your face, more upset you missed your one night out more than anything. And it was getting late, and that early shift you picked up definitely was gonna be a no-go if you didn’t get to bed soon.

“This had been fun truly, but I need to get back home because I actually have a job and not one that involves OUTTERSPACE CAR PEOPLE.” You groan, seeing Mirage stand and get ready to go back to his, auto mode?

Note to self, learn the terminology sooner rather than later.

_________

It’s about 4am when you finally make it home, the car ride silent for the most part. Mirage had decided you’d had quite enough excitement for the night and just needed a lil tote quiet, but not before teasing you a bit about missing out on your ‘hot girl hood rat’ activities.

You sigh once he parks, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, still too high off adrenaline to sleep. Maybe now was a good time to ask about that anatomy part? Getting the car your somewhat befriended sounded like a nice suggestion until sleep creeps up on you.

Of course, sensing your curiosity, mirage transforms and lays in front of you, resting on his stomach while he kicks his feet.

“Whatcha thinkin' abouttt?” He asks, more sing-songy than anything.

“I want to study you actually, your anatomy, I’m sure it’s much different to a human but similar in the important areas.” You hypothesize, seeing his eyes widen.

“Important areas? Damn girl we just met.” He teases, making you shake your head.

“Not what I meant- I mean inside!” You respond back as a boyish grin crawls over his gestures

“You’ve been inside too. Wow and you didn’t even take me to dinner first!” He jokes again, more so enjoying your reaction.

It was going to be a longggg night and looking at it, a long day too.

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theladyragnell · 4 months

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Hi! Happy new year 😊 It just struck me you're a voracious reader with (I think) quite a few romance novels under your belt and a talent for writing romance yourself, so I come begging a favour for the beginning of the year: if I wanted to read the most fun and indulgent and giggle-inducing romance in 2024, what would you you recommend? I'm hoping for something not only well-written, but triumphantly and unapologetically in its genre, if that makes sense. Thank you so much for taking the time to read (let alone answer!) this ask!

Oh friend, I love reading romance novels, please, buckle in, let's have some fun! You seem to be looking for the flavor that I tend to refer to as romps, as opposed to the more serious and dramatic or erotica-flavored romances, so let me give you a bit of a selection of those.

Contemporaries: Jennifer Crusie is the absolute master of banter, for all her best works are pretty old at this point! Bet Me and Faking It have aged the best in my opinion. I read Alexandria Bellefleur's The Fiancee Farce last year, and if you've ever read and enjoyed a "whoops, we have to get married for this clause in my relative's will" fanfic this one's for you. The Neighbor Favor by Kristina Forest was one of my favorite romances from last year, though it's a bit less bantery than these others. Oh! Talia Hibbert! Her Brown sisters books are a thing of beauty and a joy forever (Ravenswood is also good, but a bit more serious in tone and we're going for romps here). Jasmine Guillory is also worth a try, lots of fun if maybe a little less banter-focused. Oh! And a shoutout for two action romcoms I read this year, Partners in Crime by Alisha Rai and To Have and to Heist by Sara Desai.

Historicals: Tessa Dare loves a bantery romance, give The Duchess Deal a try on for size! Last year I read The Perfect Crimes of Marian Hayes by Cat Sebastian, which was a joy, and I hear a lot of good about Sebastian's m/m books too, though I haven't been able to dive into them yet. Away from the romps, Mary Balogh is one of my all-time favorites (but start with her newer work, particularly the Survivors' Club series), I've been enjoying Christina Britton a lot lately, and Eva Ibbotson's books for older readers have my heart forever and always. (I feel like this section is reading less enthusiastic than the contemporaries, but it's just that I read so many historicals that it's hard to remember which book with Duke in the title stands out!) Oh! Ravishing the Heiress by Sherry Thomas somehow hits my loves perfectly, though again not a romp, I've got a rather graver taste in historicals. And Olivia Waite's sapphic historicals! The Lady's Guide to Celestial Mechanics is the first one. And everyone recommends Courtney Milan, but The Duke Who Didn't is a true joy.

Fantasy: Fantasy romance is my genre crossover of the 2020s! It's my two favorite escapist genres mixed together, and when it hits the sweet spot it REALLY does. And my friend, I am looking you in the eyes and I am telling you to read T. Kingfisher's paladin books, starting with Paladin's Grace, if you have any interest at all in fantasy as a genre. (Fair warning: Kingfisher also writes horror, and takes great pleasure at least once per fantasy book of reminding you of that.) And now that I've given you the gateways, I'm also going to recommend you The Devotion of Delflenor by R. Cooper (it's not bantery, but I keep telling people, if you fall into my very specific sweet spot of having been in E/R fandom in 2013-2014 and having loved the Tortall books in your youth you NEED to read this, and even one or the other means you should, the pining is exquisite), The Sorceress Transcendent by Casey Blair, Olivia Atwater's Regency Faerie Tales series, and Troubled Waters by Sharon Shinn.

... Okay, you asked for one book and I gave you SO many. That is because romance has so many tones and moods and subgenres, and only you know which one is going to put the biggest smile on your face! Hopefully I have given you enough information to make the choice that is best and happiest for you.

#anonymous #answered asks #if anyone else wants some book recs for your 2024 lay your questions on me

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pascaloverx · 1 month

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Sweet Love

Summary: You're an up-and-coming writer, congratulations. To protect your beloved job, you're willing to do anything. Even strike a deal with the devil, better known as your sister's neighbor. You and Dean Winchester don't really see eye to eye, but in a moment of desperation, you agree to collaborate with him for a greater good.

Author's Notes: Many characters do not belong to me but to the Supernatural Universe (2005-2020). I hope you enjoy the fanfic's story. The fanfic will contain strong language and future adult content.

preview chapter two

CHAPTER ONE

You never imagined yourself knocking on Dean Winchester's door. I mean, you don't count having had dreams about him that involved you getting to know each other intimately. But going to his apartment to ask for help wasn't in your plans.

"I need you." You say softly as if telling someone a secret. Maybe your speech sounds like a whisper. Dean's obviously not hearing you properly, because he's humming Livin' On A Prayer as the song plays inside his apartment at full volume.

"What?" Dean says almost shouting as he looks me up and down. He looks confused like he doesn't hear you at all. You then decide to do something. You approach Dean almost seductively and say close to his ear that he won't regret it if he turns down the volume.

"Does your sister know you're here trying to get me into bed?" Dean asks as he turns off the music that was playing. Nothing against Bon Jovi, but seeing Dean turn off the sound for thinking he's going to sleep with you kind of lifts your spirits.

"If I were going to let you fuck me, I wouldn't ask my sister's opinion. I don't think you ask Sam's opinion when you decide to have sex." You speak while still standing, hoping that Dean will notice that he is only in his underwear and change into more decent clothes.

"You come over to my house, make me turn off my music and now I've suggested that I ask my brother if I can have sex. This conversation seems better by the minute." Dean speaks clearly enjoying this moment. You end up looking at his body from top to bottom but as soon as he notices, you turn to face the door.

"I need your help." You say while avoiding looking at Dean. He might have noticed, since he put on some pants. Not that you watched him put it on.

"With what?" Dean asks as you turn to face him. He put on his pants but is still shirtless. But now is not the time for you to notice these things. Even though his body is...

"I need to write steamy scenes in my book. But I just can't do it. It's like I can't think of anything sexy and I need to get this book published soon." The words coming out of your mouth don't seem to fully fit together. I mean, what is wrong with you that you would look to Dean Winchester for help?

"And what do I gain? Helping you will take up a lot of my free time, you know..." He seems too convinced, as if his ego could fill the air in the entire apartment.

"Free time? You mean wasted time. You've been living off your rich mother for I don't know how long. And I intend to pay you for the consultancy." You say everything with a certain pretentiousness in your tone of voice. Somehow, Dean Winchester brought out the worst in you.

"Do you think that just because I have a rich mother my life is easy?" Dean says, getting even closer to you, getting so close that you could smell his perfume invade your nostrils. In fact, Dean Winchester smells like men's perfume and sex.

"I think. Maybe it's not the easiest thing for you but it seems easy. So do it as an personal fulfillment, do it for the money, do it to show your mother that you are more than her son." You say feeling a heavy conscience as you realize that maybe you were rude to Dean, maybe even a little unfair.

"Nice attempt to manipulate me. I'm going to deny the offer and urgently ask you to leave my apartment. I'm accompanied and my visitor should be waiting for me in the room. So there's less you want to insult me more or join me and my visit, I suggest you go to your apartment." Dean looks offended, maybe a little irritated. You look at him a little regretfully.

"I'm sorry if I seemed rude. But I would really like your help and I'm willing to give you whatever you want." You say, desperately trying to appeal to the side you know exists within Dean. He might not even notice, but claiming you're willing to give him whatever he wants is just a lure to make him interested. At least that's what you tell yourself. But it doesn't seem to work, he closes the door just as you're about to cross the hallway that separates his apartment from your sister's. What a disaster, now you'll have to stop being a writer and move on to a new field. You can't live forever with your sister.

"Be in my apartment later. Let's start working on your book. And I'll decide what I get for the help I'm giving you. As you said yourself, you'll give me whatever I want." Dean says as he opens the door to his apartment while you open the door to your sister's apartment. You immediately turn around and hug him. Without any explanation, your first instinct was to run into his arms. And you only realize how strange that is when you see the half-naked woman coming out of Dean's bedroom and staring at the two of you hugging at the door.

"See you later, buddy." You say, giving Dean Winchester a slightly friendly punch on the arm so that his visitor doesn't find it so bizarre for him to be hugging you at the door. He looks at you as if you've lost your mind, and then you quickly leave, entering your sister's apartment, hoping that the partnership with Dean Winchester is a good idea.

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gf-seasons-zine · 14 days

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Meet Your Mods!

As we enjoy reviewing the contributor applications (open now here and closing May 1!) we thought it would be a good time to introduce you to the Mod Team! Today we're introducing you to someone you've already interacted with but maybe didn't know it, our Head, Shipping, and Socials Mod, JadeSparrow!

More info and text of the journal below the cut!

JadeSparrow

Role: Head, Shipping, and Socials Mod Pronouns: She/her Specimen Records: I'm JadeSparrow/MysteryHackin, and you can call me Jade! I found Gravity Falls in 2020 and have been obsessed ever since, especially with all the incredible fanart and fanfic that’s out there! If I had to choose, Stan would be my fav, but he only wins in a photo finish (probably because he cheated).

As Head Mod, Jade helps Berry with the tough decisions, as Shipping Mod, gets to organize and send all the physical orders when they come in, and as Socials Mod, gets to tell everyone about all the awesome things that are going on with the zine (All those exclamation marks? They are sincere! And how I really talk ;) )

You can find Jade on tumblr at @mysteryhackin !

Stay tuned for our final mod bio! Thank you again for all of your excitement!

The GF Seasons Zine Mod Team

P.S. Interested in applying to be a contributor? Check out our applications post here- applications close May 1!

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

Disclaimer: We are not affiliated with Disney in any way. The zine will be a charity zine with all surplus going to charity- no one will profit from this zine.

CARRD TWITTER RETROSPRING

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13tinysocks · 2 months

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hey dude! What's up :)) been just a little since l've said something

Initially, this is me saying thank you and goodbye

This isn't supposed to be a weird pity story, so l'm so unbelievably sorry if it comes off that way, lol.

When I began reading your work, I was enamoured with fiction because of personal issues (as many usually are, honestly, I know I'm one of god knows how many people trying to run away from life for just a second with fanfics or media in general). I don't know if I will ever be able to communicate this properly, hell, this will even be unbelievable funny or dramatic but I need to get this across because it's coming from a genuine place. Your stories and work thus far has brought me comfort, immense heaps of it, and even still when I deal with things that feel out of reach or too much to actually face head on I find myself wandering back to syg or just your blog in general

I mean this, from my entire heart, thank you and thank Bee. A million times thank you, for making that one silly silly stupid piece of fanfiction, because oh my god it got me through some major stressful hardships within my life for the past 3 years.

I am leaving tumblr, however I’m aware I have submitted asks with my actual accounts before, so you'll likely be able to see they're still gonna be up. I'm just deleting tumblr the app instead of my account, but for other social platforms they will be deleted properly (such as quotev) so I won’t be indulging in much reading anymore when it comes to fanfics and such lol

I don't know if I'll come back, if I do I likely will not be back for long or to be as active as l've been because of the toll social media’s taken. So even as ridiculous as this feels, to tell someone I’m simply a fan of and barely truly know, that their fanfic of murderers and their love story with my self insert kept me pushing through a lot of tough days, I genuinely just had to.

I needed to thank both you and your partner for the work you've both put out. I still have that smiley pin I’d made, and I will cherish what you made quotev have been for me ( I literally found out about the website during early or late 2020 I can barely remember, then later found your fic, I was DEEP DIVING into that shit LMAO )

I hope whatever happens for you and bee in the future is only good, and I only will wish nothing but the best of luck with everything man.

feel free to post this (idk what it’s called but when you publicly reply lol) or not, as long as you read this it’ll mean lots to me !! >:))

your coolest weirdest ticci toby fan whose also named toby, 🐚 annon

I always struggle to convey gratefulness for messages like this and readership- especially repeated readership. My life would be different if it were not for comments and messages egging us on to keep writing from syg to ho1c. While it's easy to say that writing is solely out of passion for the craft there is also the drive to share something with others. Hearing those others loud or quiet as a favorite- does push us forward when we have no motivation or desire to work. That drive has made us closer as a couple, better thinkers, and a halfway decent writing team. I thank you and all the others who send us stuff even if it's shit post asks I never answer because I like having them in my inbox like a personal horde of platonic Valentine's. I like keeping the pieces you give me to myself sometimes. I know it may seem like I'm ignoring you but I find genuine comfort in these messages. That there are so many. That they are so varied. That we have reached beyond our shut-in existence to touch the lives of others.

I find myself wondering where an anon has gone when I do not hear from them in awhile. I wish them well. I wish them better standards than us.

Maybe we'll meet again someday space cowboy. If you're ever back in town feel free to shoot me (a message).

Thank you for reaching out. Thank you for reading. I wish you peace and love and good books.

#though i may be inactive as of lates my thoughts have not been #abby and i talk about you #abby and i talk about a lot of you #we are happy to be present day comforts or 2020 nostalgia #🐚#anon #reply #long post

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jamneuromain · 1 year

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Creative Writing

Andy Barber x Reader (You)

Warning: Professor-Student relationship (possibly?), College AU, a lot of curses. A bit enemy to friends(?)lovers(?) vibe

W/C: ~4k

Summary: based on this prompt

A/N: dividers are from @firefly-graphics, and I spend another couple of hours on fanfic instead of my deadlines, yay!

Dancing in the Daydream M. List

Week 1

Three minutes into the class, you feel like not only you are listening to complete nonsense, but also you disagree with each and every word that comes out of your professor, who is currently standing on the podium, criticizing the shit out of your favorite author.

You regret selecting Creative Writing just because it sounds fun. Although you have been fairly warned by seniors, who took this class last year, Professor Andy Barber who taught Creative Writing runs his class with a tight fist, and of course, not kind with his comments and his marking. Not only does he want the “best” answer from students in class, but also ask everyone in the class to address him as “sir” or “Professor”.

Though he is fairly hot, as the seniors have warned you, with the trimmed beard and occasionally slipped-out Bostonian accent, with the suit and shirt and tie.

To be honest with yourself, you have been writing fanfic and whatnot for over five years, and you hoped that you could learn something from this class to improve your writing. And you love writing. If anything, this awful Professor Barber just gave you more reason to stay, because you want his approval, even if it would only be demonstrated via your grades.

You are not a quitter.

“Now speaking of a writing example that I highly recommend; this is a work I recently come across. Twenty thousand e-copies have been sold so far, now that’s a pretty good number for an author. I don’t expect you to read it thoroughly after class, but the writing style and the balance between story-telling and own reflections of the main characters are something that you should learn from.” Professor Barber takes off his glasses, twirling the frame between his fingers, hitting the button that would let the computer display the next slide.

You huff. You seriously doubt he would present anything barely readable to actual humans. Considering his comments on your favorite book, you take a rough guess that the only thing he will recommend is ancient European Lit.

Except ancient European Lit wouldn’t be in creative writing class.

You lift your head from your iPad, and you widen your eyes, unable to contain the astonishment on your face. Your jaw slams on the table – if it could, while in reality, you press your palm to your mouth, crushing your cheekbones so hard, that you feel your jaw will disconnect the next second.

Your mind blank, unable to come up with any thoughts. Apart from “THIS IS NOT HAPPENING”. In all caps.

On the slide, there is one picture, cropped out from a chapter online. Two paragraphs on the picture, the first describes the action and the verbal communication of two characters; the second describes the mental activity of one character. Below the picture, there is a bracket that contains the source of this snapshot.

The bracket and what’s in it catch your eyes, before the picture.

Well, if it isn’t your damn penname from 9th grade staring right at you in the face.

(A. Vulpecula, 2020)

Your dumb idiot self wanted something unique and stand out among all the writers in the world. You were, unfortunately, in your Harry Potter phase, and wouldn’t it be a brilliant idea to pick your penname out of constellations, just like a lot of Slytherins?

You ponder what on earth have you written in 2020, raising your head to read your own writing.

Shit, at least it wasn’t your College AU.

This piece is a long story about a witch and a demon. The paragraphs he cropped out happened to be where the witch and the demon didn’t know each other’s true identity.

Your face is burning. You don’t know if you are humiliated by reading your own fanfic in your fucking college class, or if you are gloating because the man who criticized your favorite author thinks your writing is exceptional.

Yes, that “thing” on the screen started out as fanfic.

You also don’t know whether you want to quit this class right this second or stay to hear his opinion on your work.

Or if there’s any value in his comments at all.

Your humiliation doesn’t stop there.

Oh no, it gets way worse.

At least ten slides are focused on your witch/demon au. Barber actually likes your concept of a magical world. He goes on to explain the importance of details, which runs along your story, complimenting how your designs fit perfectly into your story and your characters.

You are flattered, you guess?

But also extremely awkward when he pulls more examples from your fanfic to illustrate his idea.

“Alright, for the upcoming three weeks, we are going to look into more stories. Here is the reference reading, remember to take notes. If you want to, send me a short story or a few paragraphs you have written via email before Wednesday, no more than 500 words, and I’ll see you here next week.”

Before you even notice, the class is over. You, however, are still shocked over the fact that your mean professor likes your work.

You grab your iPad and your bag slowly, scoffing as a bunch of girls swarm up to the podium and giggling, asking Professor Barber for his contact information.

“My email address is in the course handbook, so are the office hours. If you have questions, send an email or make an appointment prior.” He nods them off coldly, though this does not discourage the girls from swooning over his broad shoulders and back under his navy-blue suit.

Your barely-friend sighs, jumping off the podium, obviously displeased by Barber’s cold demeanor. She counts as a “barely friend” because she’s just as active in class as you. Though you sometimes don’t like the way she disregards the lecturer and whisper-yell in your ear when she doesn’t understand.

She pouts: “Can’t get a hold of him.”

“You can always book an appointment for his office hour.” You swing your bag over your shoulder, shrugging, “seniors said he was harsh. I wouldn’t recommend you ‘contact’ him too much.”

“Can’t hurt to try.”

“True.” You wave your hand as a goodbye, leaving the lecture room and a bunch of disappointed girls.

Week 2

On second thought, you should have quitted this class.

Because then you wouldn’t be listening to this ridiculous remark about description over characters.

“I’m just going to let you sit on it for a minute.” Professor Barber pauses his lecture, “think about why Vulpecula describes the man’s blue eyes and red flannel.”

Then there’s silence in the room.

Knowing how easily he gets disappointed, you are not surprised.

Barber wants the “answer”, the best one, the correct one. Well, shocker that students don’t know what he has in mind.

However, in your opinion, which is: For Christ’s sake, the celebrity, Chris Evans, on whom you are basing this fanfic, has a red flannel.

What else are you going to write? Him wearing a suit being a lumberjack? In the middle of nowhere? In a fucking forest?

“What do you think?” Your barely-friend whisper-yells to your ear. Sitting in the front row, she probably makes herself heard for Professor Barber.

You lean away from her, toying with the hem of your sweatshirt, whispering back: “No idea. I’d probably say brings out the characteristics and stuff like tha-”

“Is there something interesting you’d like to share with the class, Miss …?”

Professor Barber lands his piercing sharp gaze on the two of you. Your friend ducks her head to read on her laptop. While you spare a glance at her, you silently spew a curse in your mind.

“Well, Miss…? What do you want to share with the class?”

Great. Now his gaze lands solemnly on you.

You state your name, most unwillingly, and usher out the only reasonable response you can think of: “… because the character the author is basing on has blue eyes and red flannel?”

He repeats your name, “I’d like you to address me as Professor, or Sir. Anybody else?”

He didn’t even say if your theory was interesting, needs work, or some other commentary, which he normally does, trying to inspire thinking and criticality. Like that’s going to work with his tight fist.

You roll your eyes out loud.

“I think red flannel brings out the main character’s – Christopher’s -warm and welcoming character. Red symbols the feeling of fire and warmth, and it’s only plausible that he’s wearing that color, Professor.” Your barely-friend fake coughs, then chirps “her” answer with great confidence.

Professor Barber nods, humming with approval, “very well, you are on the right track. Anybody else?”

Yeah, like anybody is going to know better than you, the author, about how and why you choose to describe his red flannel.

You begin to ponder the question, how is it possible that people interpret too much into the text they are reading? How much people are reading these days are actually the thoughts of critics instead of the authors?

But you are not standing up and revealing that you are A. Vulpecula.

Maybe in your next life but not now.

However, seeing the shocked expression on Barber’s face would be worthwhile.

You can almost imagine how his red lips form an “O” and he stutters due to the bomb you deliberately drop in front of him.

You bite your lips from smiling, too indulged in your imagination to notice Barber glaring at you a couple of times.

“Just a quick reminder that I wouldn’t be looking into more works that are submitted after today. If you want a little feedback on what you have written, send me an email before 12 o’clock midnight. Again, this is not compulsory, it wouldn’t affect your marking, think of it as a fun exercise.” Professor Barber announces once more, shutting off the projector, “we will discuss the coursework for this week next time. Class dismissed.”

Students take their belonging and move slowly toward the exit. You are sitting in the middle of the front row, which means, you are going to be stuck here for a while. A few girls go to the podium to ask questions, which you tune out completely when their questions become giggles.

You are scrolling through your phone when someone calls you by your last name.

Surprise, surprise, it’s Andy Fucking Barber.

“Yes?” You put your phone away, confused as to why he is talking to you.

“Yes, Professor. And I would expect you to pay more attention in class,” his blue eyes feel like ice, numbing your body inch by inch, “that’s all.”

Mother – Fucking - Idiot dickhead - Thickest skull in the fucking galaxy - Every curse word inside your head is cut off by one another, tangling together because none of them is able to describe your fury.

How dares he?

You were paying attention to class compared to at least two-thirds of the students present here. Focus on the word “present”, because you are fairly certain some of them skip this class because Andy Shithead Barber is too harsh.

So what you didn’t provide the answer he had in mind? And the answer he liked was not even close to your thoughts when you wrote that chapter.

You are fuming. You grab your bag and go to the library, sit there for the next two hours, and post a chapter on your Tumblr account about a love story between two vampires.

Your anger blend into your motivation to write. You wrote four thousand words in two hours, which is a record.

Yeah, you will show Mr. Professor Sir your “attention to the class”, see if he likes it next week.

Week 3

You are sure this would be the death of you.

He sent you an email two days prior, asking you whether you have time to discuss your piece of writing in his office, right after his class.

Of course, you RSVP-ed yes, but you have completely no idea why he wanted to talk to you, while other students have already received their feedback.

“OOOOOhhhhhhh, he said I am creative, but my descriptions are a little too detailed.” Your barely-friend squeaks dramatically, earning herself a silent eye-roll from you.

You can’t think of any reason that could explain his email. You wrote as yourself, you have given him a piece of your ongoing work, which was about two vampires. You are satisfied with your work. He could have just written feedback and sent it to you, even if he didn’t like your writing. What could possibly be the problem here?

Professor Barber takes off his suit jacket, rolling his shirt sleeves to his elbow, his calm voice circles the classroom, “coursework from last week, anyone has any idea about why the author wrote ‘There are two trees in the yard. One is a jujube tree. The other is also a jujube tree’?”

You turn to the page of your notes, not looking up at him, “because that’s exactly what the author sees when he looks out of his house?”

As if it couldn’t have been worse, with an extra reminder for you to call him “Professor”, his cold blue eyes glide over you, commenting on your answers to his questions that your ways of thinking and dissecting texts are “far from those of an author”.

His words, not yours.

At this point, you don’t even bother listening to his comments, instead, you start writing on your iPad.

Might as well use the time to do something at least meaningful.

“Did you make an appointment with him before, like during office hours?” When the class is over, you ask your barely-friend in a low voice.

“No.” She shakes her head, a smirk on her face, “I’m trying my best not to get on his bad side. Why? Why’d you ask?”

Like you were trying to. You get on his bad side so very easily. You grunt a “nothing”, waiting for Barber to finish packing his things.

“Okay, see ya!”

Your barely-friend slips out of the room.

You highly doubt if Barber wants you in his office because he would like to give you a compliment.

Andy Barber calls your name to snap you out of your mind. He has shrugged on his suit jacket, his lecture notes in hand, “shall we?”

At least his office is in this building so you don’t have to endure the long and awkward silence when you are walking.

You follow him into his office.

His office is a small room. Three desks are put together, taking up most of the space. His desk is by the window, equipped with computers and office supplies, while he points at the empty desk near the door, “please, have a seat.”

He drags his chair over to sit on the same side of the same desk as you. He sighs, taking off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. Finally, he puts on his glasses again, rubbing his bearded chin, “do you know why you are here?”

“The homework of 500 words …?” You chew on your lower lip, hesitant to give him the answer.

“It’s Professor or Sir. And yes.” He sits straight on his chair, his blue eyes staring into you, his voice sterner than ever, “and?”

You let out a long breath, gathering enough courage to say what you have always wanted to say in the last three weeks, “to be honest, I have completely not the slightest clue what you want me to say.” You pause, then add a word for good measure, “Sir.”

He sighs again, taking a moment to organize his words, “the reason you are here today is that I want to talk to you about academic malpractice. Now it might not be stressed enough in your past studies, but the university takes academic malpractice very seriously.” He slows down as if trying to imprint you with each and every word he says.

Your brows furrow: “And how does that have to do with…”

He is NOT implying what you think he means, right?

He is NOT implying that you copied someone’s work, right?

Or you let someone copy your work?

“I don’t understand what you mean.” You cross your arms, almost defensive, looking back at him in disbelief, “I can guarantee there’s no academic malpractice.”

Pause.

Oh right, you nearly forget, “Sir.”

“I’m gonna cut to the chase here.” Sir Professor Andy Barber pulls over his own laptop, turning it toward you so that you can clearly see the content on his screen, “the document on the left is your work, the one on the right is a chapter of A. Vulpecula’s stories.” He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms too, allowing what he said to sink in, “can you see the similarity?”

Um.

Okay.

You did not expect this. Not one bit.

Of course, what he shows you are two identical snippets.

But since when is “presenting something that you have personally written” a crime?

You cannot hide the amusement on your face. No matter how hard you try to suppress your grin, it just keeps getting wider and wider.

“I know that it’s only homework, a practice at writing, if you will,” he gestures at the screen, unaware of your grin at first, “it won’t be reported to the university, but I strongly suggest you, not to copy other’s work just because you would like to impress your lecturer.”

He stops talking when he sees your expression, which must be a mix of half-laugh and holding back, though none of the above successful.

“I’m sorry, is there something funny?”

His voice ice-cold, clearly not pleased with your reaction, your behavior, and you as a human being.

Yeah, you can tell he is pissed.

“No, nothing,” you nearly snort out because of suppressing your laugh, “please, continue.”

“No. Indulge me.” He purses his lips into a thin line, blue eyes so sharp that they could pierce your skin.

Silence.

You thought about letting the misunderstanding of “academic malpractice” grow, but if there’s one thing you simply could not abandon, it would be your academic integrity.

You cross your legs, loosening your arms, “I just … I find it funny because I submitted my own work.”

You wait for your words to sink in.

Barber shakes his head in disappointment, “academic malpractice is what -”

“I have submitted my own work.” You cut him off, “I am A. Vulpecula.”

You really don’t mind beating the information into his thick skull.

But, alas, battery & assault is a crime here.

You pull out your iPad, opening the folder of manuscripts. Clicking on the vampire AU, you show him your own manuscript and what you have written in the past hours.

“I can post this chapter early to prove my point, if you like.” You lay your iPad in front of him, leaning back in your chair, “anything else, Professor?”

More silence.

“No. Nothing.” His mouth slightly agape, not entirely what you had in mind, but close enough, “thank you for coming by.”

“No worries.” You pack your things, heading to the door. “For the record,” you turn on your heels before stepping out of his office, “week 2, the discussion about the red flannel?”

“Yes?” He raises his head.

“That was really because Chris Evans has a red flannel, Sir.” You look at him one more time, then lower your eyes, “goodbye, sir.”

Two months later, you are celebrating with your friends in a pub, that the finals are over.

Your real friends, not your barely-friends.

“Phew! Tell me about what you wrote for your Creative Writing!” Your friend fans her tongue for having swallowed a shot, nudging you to tell them more about your major and your classes.

You down your shot in one gulp, wincing due to the burn in your throat, “well, I did learn my lesson. I wrote a new piece, about a cheesy princess-bodyguard romance.”

Your friends don’t know about the full story. You altered the details a little, not telling them about you being a part-time some-what-famous writer, but enough for them to understand your situation.

“We also had this ridiculous lecturer, a skinny guy, who keeps asking you why about everything and every question-” Your friend rambles about her life story, with a round of “No way” “No shit” “What???”.

“I’m gonna need drinks, not shots.” Another one of your friends stands up, dragging you along with her to get drinks, only for her to dump you at the bar while she hurries to the bathroom.

You wait for the bartender, slightly bored.

“Hey,” your first name was called, a slight tap on your shoulder having you turn around. Andy Barber is standing in front of you. He is wearing a casual shirt without ties, and denim from the waist down. With a beer in hand, he smiles at you, “fancy meeting you here.”

“Likewise,” you nod curtly, “Sir.”

He waves his hand as if it was nothing, “please, no need for that, Sir or… just no.” He smiles nearly apologetically, “I never get the chance to say I enjoy your writing. I’m sorry for discouraging you in class. You are an exceptional writer.”

This takes you by surprise.

“Oh! Okay…? Thanks?” You twist your fingers together, unable to think of anything that could respond to him, “I’m … flattered?”

“Please, if anyone is flattered, it’s me. I am very glad to meet an author I appreciate.” He extends your hand for you to shake. You shake his hands lightly, engulfed in his large and warm hand for a second.

The friend who abandoned you for bathroom slings an arm around your shoulders, although she can barely walk straight, “oooohhhhhh, I think he’s cute!” She yells in your ear, giggling, “you should sleep with him!”

You are pretty sure Professor Barber heard that.

He looks flustered, his neck a shade redder than before, mumbling, “I suppose I’ll leave you with your friends.”

Speaking of your friend, she disappeared – more like dashed - to your table with your drinks, yelling to your other friends about how you are “getting laaaaaaaaid” tonight.

“There goes my ‘said’ friend.” You chuckle, “it’s nice seeing you, Professor.”

Barber lowers his eyes before looking into yours, his blue eyes sparkling with joy, “please, I’m not teaching you anymore. Call me Andy.”

#andy barber #defending jacob #andy barber x you #andy barber x reader #andy barber x female reader #andy barber fanfiction #college au #angst with a happy ending #sort of?#enemies to friends to lovers (?)#also sort of #professor andy barber #student reader #creative writing #dancing in the daydream

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jackiequick · 7 months

Text

Bonds were made | Agents of SHIELD Fanfic

Pairing: Amelia Parker & Grant Ward

Timeline: Pre-Avengers (2012), Pre-Agents Of S.H.I.E.L.D. (2013-2020)

Summary: Sometimes the person you see so much respect and kindness for, isn’t the one who you expect it to be. Doesn’t matter how different you may seem, it’s this challenge to themselves and you are going through the process together.

Characters mentioned: Phil Coulson, Melinda May, Natasha Romanoff, Mockingbird, and others

Setting: During SHIELD Academy

—————

Her heart was racing. Pumping. Hunched over her knees as she squeezed her eyes shut. It was late. The sun was coming down. Close to the dead of night. Her phone was buzzing as she let out a deep breath and glared at the guy in front of her.

He chuckled, wearing hid dark clothes and shook his head watching her. Glancing over at the street light, choking on the heat as the world spins around as they’re frozen on the top of the street.

“What you looking at, Ward?” She yelled, as her glares softened as she tossed a water bottle and he lead her to sit down on the bench nearby.

“Nothing.” He repiled, placing a gentle hand on her back and gave her a certain amount of time to rest.

“I can’t do this. I give up. Can we go home? Please?”

“No, sweetheart. This is what it’s all about. You need to build up your own strength and stamina.”

“Now it just feels like I’m not getting everywhere. I’m done.”

“You just started! What are you gonna do when the real mission comes, huh?”

She gave him an odd look and scoffed chuckling, “Stand behind a set of computers and code my way across the hardware. Sitting!”

“Ames, you said it yourself last week. You want to be versatile! Be a field agent and get out there on the action. I’ve seen it before, you can run and give a good punch to defend yourself.” He replied with an certified look.

“That was different, Grant! I was trying to escape stores, get away from cops and stuff.”

“No, it’s the same thing! You gotta—no, we gotta make this a challenge.”

“More challenging than it is?”

“Yes! You gotta race me, y-you wanna race me? Make it a bet!”

“You’re serious? Your not kidding me, right? Cause you like to cheat sometimes to get me riled up!”

“That’s my point! I gotta find your center to get you moving and want to keep going. I think I know exactly what makes you go for the moment! You do too.”

“…I see your point! Make the connection, search for what they want and stand your ground. That’s how I get it.”

Grant just grinned at her words. He only spent a short few weeks with Amelia but she was something else, she always wanted understand the assignment and plays with the ball she’s given. Something he didn’t have to teach her, she just knows.

Just like him.

It surprised him how young she was but how she tended to keep herself grounded. It like playing a game with her, making sense of what she meant and wants. There was a difference she carried in the way she wanted to things and the balance she tried to keep.

However he always needs to keep her up float, it was his self defense and self doubt she carried but hid behind very well.

He respected it, a lot.

Amelia grinning ear to ear. It was this sweetness she carried, this childlike attitude towards others, wanting to see them in a different light. She always knew she saw something different in Ward. The determination, the guilt of challenging himself to do better for someone can give a chance and the away he treated others.

The self doubt, keeping everything leveled and an confidence she saw in him.

It amazes her how he balanced it all so young.

He carried this look on his face like he gave everyone the cold shoulder, but he really just wanted to see what they’re made of. It’s hard for him to let loose and not be so serious with her, due to way he were so different. But it’s this challenge Amelia had with him, to keep Grant bouncing around and smile where his shoulders dropped in relief, keep him in a position to breathe.

She respected him, so much. She seen the tapes of him in action and honestly she would trust Grant Ward with her life.

She love t—

“Amelia?” He asked with a smile, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“Hm?” She repiled with a little smile.

“Do you trust me enough, to race against me?”

“Well you do trust me enough to get the job done?”

His smile grew with a nod, “Yeah, I do.”

“Good. I do too.” She replied this time with a bigger smile.

~~~~

Do you trust me?

Little did they know that one line, would be the thing that chained the relationship they would have.

The bond that would make and break them..

~~~~

The bet, or more like the challenge, Grant made to race down 2–3 blocks and make a left onto a few streets as they would reach the step to the museum.

The Metropolitan Museum Of Art to be exact.

Amelia found it to be sounding easy enough, jumping in pace to hype herself up as she popped in her earbuds. Grant found it funny at first and sorta cute that she needed music to get the job done, but he couldn’t blame her. Music alway make everything better as he decided to join on the fun and throw on his headphones.

There a timer on both phones for 15 minutes tops.

Once the countdown started, Amelia speeded off a second half quicker than Grant who smirked at her pace. The two started out going down the same direction across the blocks, becoming careful for people who were walking around and watching traffic.

It was going well. Hearts racing, beats pumping in their ears as Amelia glanced at timer and tried following Grant. He was more athletic than her, so it made it tricky for her to keep up.

“Keep up slow poke!” Grant yelled, flip to start pacing back and sending her a small wave.

His real test was to see her determination and agility to keep up with the task, like running towards a con artist for example. In his eyes, she wasn’t doing bad so far as he turned back to run the correct way.

She sighed taking a breath and grunted, “Ohh—not fair!”

She on the other hand was testing his strategy a bit, since Amelia thought of taking a short cut past a few people and across the street, since sometime you had to take a little detour to get somewhere.

So she whistled at him and pacing over to the around a group of people, sending way at Ward. He rolled his eyes as she then race off.

———

But Amelia Parker being well..Amelia Parker. She didn’t think her idea would thoroughly lead her towards an narrow end. There were buildings, fire escapes, people walking from different backgrounds, alleyways, dogs, and vehicles passing by her.

“Shit..” She muttered, whined as she started wondering where Ward went and added, “..stupid Parker..”

The girl decided to climb up a fire escape nearby an apartment complex close to a few store, such as H&M and Rainbow, hoping she can get a better look. It kinda stunk due to the dumpsters close by.

She took to the top of one of the buildings, feeling a little fuzzy and groans at the garbage.

However once she over the smell, using her phone Amelia zoned in and saw the somewhat crowded streets followed by, the lovely Metropolitan Museum so close. Her location wasn’t so far away, so she glad.

She even saw Grant running before noticing she wasn’t behind him. He looked confused for a moment, almost terrified he lost her amongst the audience of people and started playing back his latest memory as he run off.

Amelia on the other hand shrugged, texting Grant she was on her way sooner rather later. It was looking pretty good until Amelia started to get down the stairs to fire escape she saw it. Both guy, around the 18 or so, jogging up to the alleyway floor started to lock eyes with her.

She tried getting down as quick as possible and jump over to the dumpsters for higher level. But she was too late as they were speeding up towards, about to jump down when they started shaking the latter.

The girl paced herself, taking a breathing trying to fight them off using whatever was nearby to hit them as she jumped down the latter.

She was new to this whole thing, fighting off more than one person and finding their weak spots. But still Amelia tried her best, being pushed and tossed onto the groundwork by one of them guys.

“Guys, come on! C-can we talk about this? Huh?” She asked, douching a hit and grabbed a glass bottle to use as a weapon.

But before one of the guys could swing tightly over her face, he was pulled back against the top of his head and whacked hard stumbling backwards. There was one holding Amelia by the side, letting her go and tossing the girl onto the ground.

She stumbles, standing up against the dumpster and gagged at the smell balancing herself then swinging the glass bottle across his guys head. She hit him so hard he was knocked out cold.

“Ames?!” Yelled the rough voice of her partner of the race.

She turned over to face him, as she connected the dots that it was him who whacked the first guy in the head so hard. Grant just finished fighting him off and grunted, racing over to her helping her stand.

“H-hey, hey, look at me. You okay?” He asked, worry in his eyes as he gently takes her face in his hand searching for damage, “Where did the bastards hurt you?”

“Heheh you really fought him for me, huh?” She replies, with a dry laugh giving him a half smile as she looked at his face.

All Amelia saw were the small bruises, snatches and shiner that could form anytime soon on his face. His hoodie fell off as his chest was still huffing. She never saw him worried before, but then again she just got attacked in an alley.

Grant didn’t realized he was taking her face in his hand and search for damages in just a concerned way. He saw the small bruises on her arms. As well as tiny snatches on her face.

“Damn it, Ames!” He grunted, huffing at her humorous laugh and half smile, “You’re hurt. Where does it hurt?”

“I’m fine now and don’t be concerned or blame yourself. It’s part of..training, getting hurt and standing up right?” She replied, running her thumb over his jaw to notice the bruise there.

“You took a detour and got attacked in the process. Of course, I’m concerned!Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m okay! You saved me, didn’t you?”

“I’m serious.”

“So am i.”

“Always a humorous moment with you, isn’t there?”

“Mhm!”

“Ames, I’m not kidding!”

“I’m fine, your hurt too. A pretty strong attack to the face..a-are you okay?”

“I’ve been hurt far more worse than that. So I’m alright. Coulson’s gonna kill us..”

“He doesn’t have to find out, unless we don’t say anything..”

“At least we’re not bleeding to death, so that’s a plus..”

“I hate you, a lot.”

“Aw, i love you too.”

She huffed pushing the hair out of her face and smirked. He sighed deeply shaking his head, seeing the look in her eyes and returned the smirk.

“No, don’t. You are not going continue the race against me.” He told her with a certain look, smiling softly.

“Come on, we might as well get the job done. Do you trust me to keep going with your challenge?” She asked him with a small grin.

“Serious? Okay I’ll bite. Do you trust me when i say we’re gonna regret this in the morning?”

“Possibly. But um, are we still itching to get it done..i hope..”

“God. One last lap to the museum, Ames. I mean it.”

“Yes! Then off to 7-11 for pizza and extra water bottles…and um, thank you.”

“For what?”

“Having my back.”

~~~~

He smiled at that, hearing those words.

Parker was a wordsmith with a smile that can make or break something inside someone.

He understood that. It’s something that could help or hurt a person, make you want to watch your step.

Almost like Coulson.

Damn.

She returned the same smile, watching his face considering her words.

Ward was a engineer with his attitude that can sending you spiraling down a wormhole of questions and a smile that can lead you down a certain path.

She knew that. It was this skill level and an great balancing act with a mind that help or hurt you if you mess up.

As close to Agent May or even Romanoff.

Shit.

~~~~

And once again they were off.

Racing against one another, keeping up the pace watching the other person’s six and matching sure they’re alright after the attack.

It was more like jogging.

Sharing tiny smiles. Grant rolled his eyes at her silly little grin as Amelia scoffed at his cheeky wink he would give in return.

Reaching the street across to the location. He stood behind her watching over to see anyone was nearby and if there was space to make the jump up the steps.

A few steps up to the top of the stairs, kneeling to take a breath and nodding as they ran gently.

Grant reach up the steps first, he smile holding out his hand for her to take. Amelia giggled softly, taking his hand gently as she was pulled into his embrace.

He was honestly proud of her and so was she.

“What you giggling at?” He asked with a smile, his arms wrapped around her shoulder as he looked down at the girl in question.

“You listened and kept going.” She replied with a smile, leaning into his embrace as she looked up at him.

“Your proud?”

“Yeah. You’re a good guy, Ward.”

“You make me feel like I’m a good guy. I’m proud of you. You passed my test.”

“Test?”

“Yeah, i wanted to see your determination and I made sure of it. You kept going even if i wasn’t on the same page about it”

“Of course, i took a page out of your book. To keep going and stop when you can’t anymore. And you passed mine, I think.”

“Hmm, i guess so. You’re gonna be a good agent some day.”

“As good as you or better?”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions, Parker.”

He walked away from her, nodding for her to follow him as he held out an hand.

She raised an eyebrow and added, “You didn’t answer my question!”

“I didn’t need to!” He responded, waving his hand waiting for her.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Isn’t that my line?”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

“Not happening.”

“Good answer.”

Amelia paced up, taking his hand gently and walked with him down the path. Grant nodded, taking the lead glancing down at her every once in a while.

As they walked down the street, he notice her smile and tiny bruises that started to take shape.

But she wasn’t angry about it nor upset with him about leading the way. It was her choice and she made a mistake, learning from it.

He knew why she is the way, she is and admired her for it. Hell, he thanked his timing and the position he was in to have her in his life.

Knowing that Amelia Parker would make a great deal of decisions one day and in result make people shine or question their tactics.

And he hopes he can be there to see it.

What happened today and the damaged that cause him to end up hurt—both of them to be hurt—it wasn’t his fault per say. He knew the risk and she knew the way he would think about it.

She noticed the smile on his face, making her own grow. She never expected to find someone like Grant Ward in her life and thanked the whole situation she was in for it.

He made a mistake not watching his back, but he will learn as the time goes and the keystone that follows along that path.

She admired that part of him, since Ward isn’t one to to make small mistakes very often and it shows her that it’s part of the job.

Knowing that Ward will have to become an leader one day, having to help a group during highly trained mission of some kind and make decisions that might cost his life or save it.

And something tells her that she might be there to see it.

___

Little did they know that those hopes and suspensions will become true.

Leading different paths within the same field and bumping into one another weather they like it or not.

But that’s an tale for another day…

——-

Thanks for reading! I wanted to write an story about this pair for a while now. I hope you enjoy it

Please like, share, comment and reblog for more stuff like this one

Tags: @sherloquestea @gaminggirlsstuff @starkleila @msrochelleromanofffelton @gcthvile @rickb-chaos @mandylove1000 @whitewiccan @mallowbee4 @comfortzonequeen @topgun-imagines @rooster-84 and etc

#agents of shield #grant ward #grant ward x reader #agents of shield x reader #agents of shield fanfic #marvel x oc #mcu ocs #agents of shield au #agents of shield oc #phil coulson #melinda may #danielle campbell #brett dalton #aos fanfic #fyeahmarvelocs #agents of shield incorrect quotes #marvel oc #davina claire

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likeabxrdinflight · 2 months

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so as we all know, the live action atla airs tomorrow. knowing me, I'll end up binging the whole thing in one, two days tops.

I think the majority of my followers on this platform followed me back in 2020, when the animated show dropped on netflix and saw a sudden resurgence in popularity. so most of you know me as a fan, and it's not exactly a secret. I adore the animated show. It's somewhere in my top ten favorite tv series of all time. it might even be the top, I've never actually sat down and thought about it that deeply, but if I did, atla very well could be number one.

it's not a perfect show, far from it. it has flaws. everything does. but I was there with atla from literally day one. I remember back in 2005, all the tv ads for this cool, anime-esque nickelodeon show that was gonna air soon. I memorized the date and time of the premiere. I made damn sure I wasn't gonna miss it. my 12-year-old ass forced my little brother to surrender the remote for that hour and refused to let him touch it. turns out I didn't need to, because we both got invested right away. and I tuned in for every new episode from that day on. even if I was at a friend's house, I made sure we watched if a new episode of atla was airing. I was that insane about this show.

I can remember making up fake bending routines in my parents' living room (usually firebending lol). in the summers I'd pretend to be a waterbender in the swimming pool. some of my earliest drawings are of katara, aang, and zuko, and then later azula. I remember when the blue spirit first aired and presenting my brother with the "zuko will definitely become aang's friend and teach him firebending" manifesto. he was not convinced. I was devastated by the season two finale, and so vindicated by season three. I remember how long the 2008 writer's strike felt when it delayed the second half of season three. and I remember when the finale finally aired- by this point I was now 15- and just the rollercoaster of emotions that was for me as a teenager. I remember not wanting it to be over, delving into the online fandom and discovering all the different ships, fanart, fanfics, and video edits (and drama). I learned how to use windows movie maker and pirate the episodes just because I wanted to join in on the fun. I wrote a not good zutara fic that I never finished. I put my shitty little azula videos on youtube. I've been in and out of this fandom ever since.

so to say I have a lot of love for the animated series would be an understatement. when I think of the media that defined my childhood, there's really five things that first come to mind- harry potter, pokemon, anime more broadly (special shout out to yugioh and sailor moon), disney, and atla.

I say this all to establish that there is zero chance the live action adaptation could ever overtake the animated original for me. I will always love it more, it will always be the more special version of this story. I was exactly aang's age when that first episode aired. there's no replacing something like that. when I think of this story and these characters, I think I will always default to the animated version.

that said, I really am feeling optimistic about the live action adaptation. I'm frequently skeptical of these kinds of projects, especially the disney remake trend, but there's a couple reasons I feel pretty okay with the adaptation of atla. one is that there has been a recent uptick in popularity of the original. it's a good time to re-visit this story, people are interested, and it can only serve to get even more people to watch the original given both will now be on netflix. two is that I'm very encouraged to see that both in front of and behind the camera, asian and indigenous people are taking center stage. I don't think we can discount the importance of that. third, everything I've seen about this show that's not a panicked hot take on twitter or a headline pulled out of context is fairly encouraging. I mostly like what I've heard from the cast and showrunners in interviews. several reviews of the first episode's premiere have been broadly positive, most importantly to me, from actual fans who attended.

I do have some reservations. I'm not totally sold on the visual aesthetic, with the somewhat darker color palette and the contrasting saturation of the costumes. for this first season, I'm easily most concerned about how katara is going to be written. I want them to make changes and tell the story differently, but I do worry they won't find the right balance. too much change to central character arcs could deleteriously impact the story. and I will always be concerned about the portrayal of azula.

I also have mixed feelings about the sexism thing- I'm not necessarily pressed that they might tone down sokka's or even pakku's overt sexism, and frankly the "girls can fight too!" version of feminism is kind of tired in 2024. I also know several indigenous people have spoken up about how the water tribe's being sexist was not a great look. but I am concerned that, in toning this aspect down, they might inadvertently neuter katara's character arc or remove some of her best moments. I have to question how this change will impact suki as well. ironically I'm not as worried about sokka, his sexism was a minimal part of his overall character arc- but it's impact on the women around him was much more meaningful. that's what I'm more concerned about.

I've also heard that the first episode suffers from a glut of exposition that was felt necessary for new viewers but returning fans will likely find tiresome. and naturally I'm worried some things will look goofy, fail to translate from cartoon to live action well, or that some of the heart and charm of the original will get lost in translation. so yeah, there's concerns.

but generally speaking I'm more excited than not. if the show has as much love put into it as the cast and crew interviews seem to indicate, then I think revisiting this world and these characters in a new way with a new generation at the helm will be a lot of fun. the nostalgia market is definitely oversaturated right now, you can certainly argue this didn't need to exist, but I'm not going to pretend I'm not interested to see what they do with this. especially when we already got such a bad live action version- it's not like this is a new idea for atla as a franchise. there's a precedent already set for trying it again. so I'm going in with an open mind. let's see what they do- it's not like it's ever going to replace the original. it can't.

...also I think the tag I'm going to use is "natla spoilers". I've been tagging "atla live action" but I think I'm gonna switch over to "natla" primarily from now on. and believe me, I will be sharing my thoughts.

#atla live action #natla

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marinesocks · 2 years

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writeblr intro!!

hi hi!! i'm helena/danger (she/her) and i'm new to tumblr but i saw a bunch of people doing writeblr introductions and wanted to join in!! i'm a bit shy when it comes to reaching out but if you interact with me at all i will like. 100% respond!!! ok here goes!!

about me

i am a:

adult,

lesbian,

ADD haver,

third culture kid,

hobbyist reader,

psych major,

avid dog enthusiast,

wannabe artist,

horror movie fan,

ecology nerd,

and, as you might have guessed,

a writer!!

i'm not incredible at it but for some reason i cant stop doing it so here i am!!

favorite genres/niches

fantasy mostly!!!

i like to think i like plot but honestly i'll like anything if the characters are good enough

HUGE mythology and folktale fan!! i have very strong opinions on how to incorporate those into a novel tho, so only ask about that if you dare!!

surprise creepy concepts and crapsaccharine worlds are like my favorite of all time. i 100% support lying about the contents of a project to keep that twist extra shocking!!

romcoms might not be my favorite but im a sucker for cute couples, especially if they are LGBTQ+

psychological horror is excellent, one of my favorites (even if i'd never dare to write it)

depictions and representations of mental health is probably the thing that's most consistent throughout my work? maybe its just the psych major talking but i find that stuff endlessly fascinating

i've lived in various places overseas for most of my life, so i enjoy stories set in unique locations absolutely DRENCHED in culture!!

current projects

i feel a bit awkward sharing these because again, i'm not a great writer, but i like reading about other writeblr's projects so i figured i'd give other people the option of seeing mine! warning for pretentious titles for very straightforward and basic concepts

WIP - flowers that mean "we'd miss you" - a short story I wrote while testing out subtext, character dynamics and prose!! the basic run-down is that a boy wakes up in the hospital and now he and his friends have to navigate a very difficult conversation. the subject matter definitely requires a content warning, and it has a few gaps i still need to fill, but overall i really like the direction it's headed!! out of all of these projects, it's probably the one i have the least issues with.

in the ataraxis of aftermath - this one is a novel i wrote for NaNoWriMo 2020! it is post-apocalyptic with elements of fantasy, slice-of-life, and romance, specifically lgbtq+ romance. it's about a girl exploring what remains of her flooded city when she suddenly finds another survivor. despite the genre, this novel is very slow-paced and calm, relying more on the character dynamics and emotional journey of the protagonist instead of traditional story beats and plotlines!! i finished the whole first draft that november (and without any real outline to guide me, so altogether it's a bit of a mess), and i plan on rewriting it after i finish the two following projects!!

WIP - the owl's wish - originally intended as a short story for just a friend and i, this project is quickly expanding into a full-on novel!! it's a haikyuu!! fanfic, but i've been told that the story is well enough removed from the show that it can work even if you don't that context. the only summary i can give without spoilers is that it's about an owl spirit with amnesia who finds a friend, and together they set off to get their wishes granted by the mysterious Lady of the Yellow Springs (but it's about more than that, i promise ;) ). it's set in ancient japan, and i referenced a few traditional fairytales when drawing up the outline, but otherwise it's a completely original folktale that can hopefully be accessible to anyone who picks it up!!

WIP - currently titled ouroboros paradox - this is a novel i am currently plotting, so honestly i'm not so sure how much i can say!! this is a fantasy novel coming from my intense passion for large creatures, horror elements, and norse mythology. as far as i know now, the story will follow two protagonists in the city of jörmungandr - one from the past and one in the present - as they try to navigate life, religion and ethics in a world where murdering living beings lengthens your lifespan. i plan on finishing my outline before this november, so i can try to hit 50K for nanowrimo this year!!

where to find me

Instagram, Wattpad, Art Fight, AO3, & Toyhouse! If you would like to read my writing but don't have a Wattpad account, i've linked the google docs directly to the titles :)

and that should be it!! if you read this far imagine i am giving you a very firm handshake with very watery eyes. if you'd like to reach out, ask questions, or share some of your story tidbits with me, please do!! i'd be so happy to reciprocate however you'd like :) have a great day!! drink some water!!!

#writeblr intro #wip intro #writblr #writeblr #writers on tumblr #lesbian writer #looking for friends #looking for mutuals #im very shy but if you want to reach out like at all i 100% will #like im 110% serious i love writing friends i'd be so happy to make more mutuals #even if you want to just ramble about something you haven't been able to like... hmu bestie i love listening to that #not even kidding let me be the audience for your passionate speeches i am begging you #helena says stuff

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wellbelesbian · 7 months

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20 questions for fic writers!

tysm for tagging me @bazzybelle, it took me a while to get around to this but it was a lot of fun!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

37!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

113,598, not bad.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

mostly the Simon Snow Trilogy, but I have a couple of Greek Mythology/Epic Cycle fanfics too. i used to write for Percy Jackson and Marve, but not anymore.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

two old Marvel fics are right at the top, then it’s:

i want the love on your wrist (oh give me the heart on your neck), the first explicit work i’ve ever written, maybe a sign i should write more.

The Tale of the Two Merwolves, which I wrote with a bunch of other lovely people in the fandom

Everything I Am Not, my COTTA fic from 2020

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

yes, I always try to!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

definitely crimson, my COTTA fic from 2022, but a close second is Visions, a little Trojan War Helenus fic i still really like.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

well a lot of my fics have fairly happy endings, but I’d say All That She Wants, an Agatha-centric fic, and Happier Memories, a proposal fic, have the most hopeful endings.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

no, I don’t think I ever have, luckily!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

only twice so far, though I have another stewing in my brain that might get written. I can’t really say i'm limited to a certain “type” though, i’m pretty versatile, pun intended.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

no, they’re not really my thing.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge! i hope not.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

back when i used to write on wattpad i got some DMs asking to translate my fics and i always agreed, but i don’t know if they ever followed through.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

yes, i really love doing so! I wrote a stucky fic with one of my friends years ago, but we never ended up posting it anywhere. also, the two aforementioned marvel fics were co-written with another (now ex) friend, and the tale of two merwolves was written as part of a group.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

snowbaz, definitely. it’s been my longest-running OTP (do people still say OTP?) and i’ve written so any fics for it.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

hmm, i’ve only got 3 wips and i think i’ll finish them all eventually, but blow on the tinder and we are slaves to the gods are definitely on the back burner for now.

16. What are your writing strengths?

i’ve been told i’m good at writing dialogue, which is good because that’s two thirds of all the words i write.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

descriptions and anything sappy, which gives me second hand embarrassment.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i tend to shy away from it, but if i do i always put it in italics and will put a translation in the notes unless it’s super obvious, and like when other authors do the same.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Percy Jackson! I wrote so much solangelo and was actually pretty popular on wattpad, one of my fics broke a million hits which is still insane to me. i still get the occasional message asking me to come back and finish my fics, but i logged out of that account in 2018 and am not going back.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

oh, that’s hard. i’m really enjoying writing Shoulder To Shoulder right now, but i still love All That She Wants and Liar Liar. i also really love I’m On My Way To Believing, which is a greek mythology Pyrrhus/Hermione fic. they’re my blorbos. but i’d have to say my all-time favourite will always have to be the first carry on fic i ever wrote, which got me out of a years long writing slump: Rats.

i don't know who has already done this, so i'll just tag @ileadacharmedlife @prettygoododds @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @imagineacoolusername @ic3-que3n @forabeatofadrum @aristocratic-otter @larkral @hushed-chorus @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @youarenevertooold @artsyunderstudy @alexalexinii @shrekgogurt and @j-nipper-95

#tag game #long post

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autumnslance · 7 months

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LynMars FFXIV Write 2023 Master Post

This year's challenge completed! Congrats to everyone who wrote anything at all this month, even if just one prompt! Thanks again to @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast for 7 years of this!

Previous Years Master Posts: 2017 | 2018 | 2019 | 2020 | 2021 | 2022

Anything wolcred ship-related is marked by an asterisk* as usual. Commentary and stats for anyone interested below the Read More.

01. Envoy: ARR; Aeryn makes her Grand Company choice. 02. Bark: Dark has the wrong pie thief suspect. 03. Free Day! 04. Off the Hook: EW; Lucia & Maxima explore their new HQ. 05. Barbarous: HW; Aeryn's frustrated by the land of her birth. 06. Ring: EW; keepsakes & memories of Aeryn's mother. 07. Noisome: Dark & Iyna contend with ubiquitous seasonal flavors. 08. Shed: EW; Aeryn answers Zenos at the edge of everything. 09. Fair: EW; Azem's brother tries to ensure the future has his aid. 10. Free Day! 11. Once Bitten Twice Shy: ShB Bozja; unwarranted concerns. 12. Dowdy: Backstory; Aeryn's always had Opinions about fashion. 13. Check: Iyna discovers C'oretta's personal business. 14. Clear*: ShB; semi-poetic sweetness of coming together. 15. Portentous: Backstory. Zaine speaks to Tanzel about a decision. 16. Jerk: EW; Aeryn meets an old friend as the Final Days loom. 17. Free Day! 18. Fish Out of Water: Shb: G'raha gets used to his new life. 19. Weal: EW; Vrtra sees to his people and their home. 20. Hamper: In a possible future, Iyna answers academic questions. 21. Grave: Legacy; Zaine Striker returns to his childhood home. 22. Fulsome: C'oretta sorts through her parents' old promos. 23. Suit: ARR; what the Scions wore that most fateful night. 24: Free Day! 25. Call it a Day: Pre-ARR; Iron Summer contemplating his daughter. 26. Last: EW; a final conversation between ancients. 27. Sole*: Post-ShB; Thancred vs the perils of Aeryn's flip-tastic jobs. 28. Blunt: Post-ShB; working with Gaius, like it or not. 29. Contravention: EW; "In from the Cold" violates laws of nature. 30. Amity: EW; Varshahn & Aeryn discuss Thavnair & Garlemald.

Only 2 short shippy prompts all month! All 4 modern girls got a couple spotlights, various family cameos and backstories, a future prompt as is tradition, Zaine had a few posts, a few NPC-only scenes, a LOT of Endwalker, and even Ancient Icarus got a story, tying into 2021's "Destruct" prompt and how/why the siblings' souls have been connected through time and reincarnations.

A few of these are alternate takes on scenes I've touched on before, but it's interesting what a new prompt at a different time can get one to say, how we change as writers in what we focus on and how we say it.

This comes in roughly 300 words shorter than last year, at 18,493. The week of the 18-22 I had off work for my birthday, and that had the most 1k+ prompts, with a word count nearly double the other 3 full weeks. While the longer prompts are good, I'm really happy with how so many of the short ones turned out!

I was again trying to be realistic about my time, energy, not pushing free write days...and also working on an original writing project on the side, so I actually did do more writing over the month, just not FFXIV related!

(Also why some of my responses were in just under the wire...)

But this was a good break and exercise from that other writing, and let me try a few new things.

And comparing to earlier years--especially 2017 and 2018 when I was getting back onto the writing horse and feeling out my OCs--I feel like my growth as a writer, especially to be more succinct yet still evocative when needed, is evident. I've gotten a lot of practice in over time, and this challenge is one of the things that helped me get to where I can write an original story on top of my fanfic!

Breakdowns for funsies: Longest: 21 Grave; 1,652 words Shortest: 14 Clear; 106 words

Between 100-500 words: 1 Envoy; 2 Bark; 4 Off the Hook; 5 Barbarous; 7 Noisome; 8 Shed; 14 Clear; 15 Portentous; 26 Last; 27 Sole. Between 500-1000 words: 6 Ring; 11 Once Bitten, Twice Shy; 13 Check; 16 Jerk; 18 Fish Out of Water; 22 Fulsome; 23 Suit; 25 Call it a Day; 28 Blunt; 29 Contravention; 30 Amity. 1000+ words: 9 Fair; 12 Dowdy; 19 Weal; 20 Hamper; 21 Grave.

I didn't look at the totals until the end; I only checked some of the shorter ones during the challenge to see if they hit my personal "500+ words" cut off for adding a Read More to the posts.

"Grave" honestly could have been a lot shorter; I started the plot too early, and much as I like Zaine making one last visit to his childhood Nana, for the purposes of the challenge, I could have just focused on going to the lichyard to save myself time and energy, and wrote about the visit on my own another time. On the other hand, it's done now!

Not sure which is a favorite; there's a lot I like.

As usual, these will be revised at...some point (some more than others, probably) and added to Ao3, in my various series and threads.

#final fantasy xiv #ffxivwrite2023 #Lyn Writing #Aeryn Striker #Dark Autumn #Iyna Cauld #C'oretta Khell #Zaine Striker #Scions of the Seventh Dawn #A Realm Reborn #Heavensward #Stormblood #Shadowbringers #Endwalker

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unsociableandtaciturnbarbie · 10 days

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Bridgerton is just socially acceptable Jane Austen Fanfiction, change my mind.

I have a friend who is really into Dungeons and Dragons and one of the most interesting things I’ve learned from her because of this is how mainstream role playing games have become. There’s a TV show on Amazon Prime called Vox Machina that’s actually based on a Dungeons and Dragons campaign called Critical Role that was streamed on Twitch and as a Podcast on Spotify. In other words, a game of roleplaying between a few friends has become a popular TV show for people who don’t even roleplay to enjoy. Naturally, when I heard about The Good Society, I was curious to see what content is out there on the internet. So, I searched it up on Spotify and, lo and behold, a podcast of people playing The Good Society does exist. Each episode is approximately 4 hours long, and I unfortunately do not have the time to dedicate to listening in full. However, the latest episode (from December of 2020) is titled “Zombies”, so I had to at least give it a brief listen (Here’s a YouTube link to a video of them playing through this episode, but I listened in Podcast format: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6TiAgFD4DMw&t=9256s). In the episode description itself it’s called a “one-shot” which I feel like I only ever hear applied to fanfiction (more on that later though).

I started by listening to the first 10 minutes. In those we got an ad break, a brief introduction of the players, and also a song meant to give an overview of the game containing the lyric, “ballers gonna ball”? Then they start to move into the full description of characters, kind of along the lines of what we did in class today. At this point, I learned that they were combining legitimate expansion packs with names like, “Sense, Sensibility, and Swordsmanship” and “Pride, Prejudice, and Practical Magics”. I really needed to see what was going on when they threw all these things together so I just skipped to a random point in the podcast and tried to figure out what was going on. I landed around the 2 hour and 33 minute mark where they are in the letter writing part of the game. This was really interesting because the letters are very “in character” interactions where the players are all talking in accents and using not super modern vocabulary where the rest of the game seems like just a lot of friendly chatting and hanging out. I stuck around just for long enough to find out that they’ve come up with a character who’s going to bring some zombies into the house that’s central to their game. At this point I’d listened to ~30 minutes of this episode so I called it a day, but it was definitely fun to listen to them really get into character and then work together to set some things up and then get in character again and it kind of made me want to play too.

All I could really think the whole time I listened (and when I first was reading about this game) was that it felt very fanfiction-esque? These characters felt a little more different from Austen characters than our characters, maybe because the players are more experienced and had more time to develop the characters’ personalities, but when we were playing in class today, I felt like if you changed a few names we were just writing Elinor Dashwood/George Wickham fanfiction. When I first heard “Jane Austen roleplay” I thought it was a crazy idea, but the more I learn about it I feel like it’s just Jane Austen fanfic in a collaborative way and I kind of love it.

Having heard about the Dungeons and Dragons show I started to think about what a The Good Society show would look like, but then I thought: Bridgerton exists. Would the writers of Bridgerton call what they did roleplaying? Probably not. But I bet they did sit down together and do almost exactly what we did in class today, coming up with characters and relationships and finding ways to sort of connect them based on that. That kind of got me thinking about the like levels of social acceptance of these things, so I made a meme.

The template here being where as you go down the diagram the description is supposed to be of cooler and more “mind-blowing” things, but all of the items are sort of interlinked as like small steps up from one another. Seriously though, why don’t we call Bridgerton Jane Austen fanfic? I don’t mean to suggest that all regency-themed things are Jane Austen-based; she did not invent the regency. But, the tropes and character hallmarks utilized by Austen show up again and again in fanfic, in romance novels, and yes, even in Bridgerton, whether it's in the meddling mother characters or the brooding rich men. I'm not sure whether we like to pretend we're totally original or admitting to writing fanfic is still too socially unacceptable, but on some level, the background in which modern-day regency romance is set is the world created by Jane Austen, and I think as long as the regency romance genre is around we’ll always be able to find a new bit of Austen within it.

#jane austen #thegoodsociety #brigerton #pride and prejudice #sense and sensibility

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pascaloverx · 26 days

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Sweet Love

chapter one chapter three

CHAPTER TWO

It's been two days since you made your agreement with Dean, and there's no sign of him. You even thought about going to him, but he always seems to be busy screwing someone. Literally. Yesterday, a beautiful man left his apartment, and you gave up on going to Dean's place because you swore it was Castiel. Well, to put it briefly, Castiel is Dean's great love story. At least, that's what you think. When you moved into your sister's apartment, Castiel lived with Dean. They seemed like quite the couple, even though officially they said they were having a "casual thing." But about a year ago, Castiel broke up with Dean. Rumors say Castiel wanted emotional commitment, and that's Dean's biggest nightmare. So when you saw a handsome man very similar to Castiel and wearing a trench coat like Castiel used to wear, you thought they had made amends. But in the end, it wasn't Castiel. This makes you sure that Dean is avoiding helping you. It could be because he's quite stupid when he wants to be, or because he didn't see any benefit in helping you.

You then decide to try writing the long-awaited smut, describing how the male protagonist's skin smells like men's deodorant and cheap moisturizer, and how the female protagonist is intrigued by the male protagonist's eyes. You try and try, but your protagonists don't seem to want a physical connection. If only your publisher would accept this. But you're just a few steps away from becoming permanently unemployed. So, wearing a somewhat revealing nightgown and your Stitch slippers, you practically run to Dean's apartment door. But you can't bring yourself to knock on his door; courage is lacking. Or perhaps you feel humiliated. You turn around, thinking about what you'll have to do to apply for any other job. Or how it will be to move back in with your mother when you're already too old for it to seem like a viable option.

"Do you make a habit of standing in front of other people's apartments?" Dean Winchester asks, opening the door to his apartment. You turn around delicately as if caught off guard. The feeling of embarrassment washes over you.

"No, actually, it's something I exclusively do with you, sweetheart. Can you explain why you gave up on helping me?" You speak, feigning confidence. Dean looks you up and down.

"You're going to regret this, you know?" Dean says boastfully as I walk further and further out of his apartment, you noticing that he's in a bathrobe and him apparently noticing that you're in a nightgown.

"Dean, I'm not a little girl. You don't need to protect me. I just want you to help me. Do you understand this?" You get closer to him. Your face getting closer to his. You feel the strange need to kiss him.

"Sam thinks our partnership is a bad idea. According to him, I'm taking advantage of the fact that your sister is away to try to lead you down the wrong path." Dean tries to explain the reason why he hasn't helped you yet.

"Is he right?" You ask, smiling mischievously as you keep your eyes locked on Dean's. He looks at you, as if calculating what answer to give you. You presume he's undecided between lying or not. In reality, it means he wants to take advantage of you.

"Probably is. The problem is, everyone knows you and me, it's not gonna work out. Either you'll give up on me, or I'll mess everything up." He says, looking intensely at you, as you hold onto the edge of the robe he's wearing and bring your faces closer together.

"I didn't come here to play cat and mouse with you, Winchester. Now, tell me how to start a romantic story with a bit of sexual tension and forget your worries." You say, cutting straight to the point.

"What are we doing now. Analyzing each other halfway between our apartments. Casually wondering if it wouldn't be interesting to take off the few pieces of clothing we're wearing?" Dean's suggestion sounds good, but in your head it sounds like a warning. What you and he are doing is building sexual tension. Analyzing each other's bodies, observing details such as what they are wearing and moving closer and closer.

"Are you saying this is the method you're going to use to help me? Try to fuck me?" You say, moving away from him a little and coughing falsely. That was letting you embarrassed, in a good way.

"What better way than to practice with you? Write about what you're experiencing right now, about your filthiest thoughts about me, you, and the floor of my house. Maybe the shower, or the mattress?" Dean says, approaching you step by step, making you lose your breath. Your head lightly knocks on your door. Or rather at the door of your sister's apartment.

"What's the next step in your help?" You speak almost in a whisper next to Dean who is face to face with you. His fingers then lightly travel around your waist, holding you steady. He wants to tease you.

"Imagine that your character is going to do exactly what I'm doing, seduction works like that. But something good about seduction is knowing when to do things. Now it would be easy to win you over but leaving you eager for more, it's much better. " Dean says, letting go of your waist and composing himself.

"You're more useful than you seem. I hope you know you're going to need more than that if you want to help me with this book." You say trying not to seem affected by him.

"Get ready, kitten. I know very well how to help you. Just try to take it to the professional. I don't know how to deal with people who are in love with me." Dean says smiling and you roll your eyes. How arrogant he is.

"I'll see you tomorrow, idiot." You say, opening the door to your sister's apartment and closing it in Dean's face. You then run to get your computer and write down everything about what just happened.

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