#seeing myself as a woman's medium for 3-4 years

[lesbian-choso]

Mid-Year Book Freakout 2023

tagged by my beloved, @hauntedmoors 🫀

1. Best book you’ve read so far this year?

Probably We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson. I was already familiar with her since I remember reading The Lottery in high school, but this story really blew me away. I can’t wait to tuck into more of her writing, and just in general more gothic fiction, and just the weird and freakish overall.

2. Best sequel you’ve read so far this year?

I haven’t read many novel sequels this year, and none of them stuck out so I can’t really list anything. But I would say the second saga of Chainsaw Man, as a sequel, has been a highlight.

3. New release you haven’t read yet?

I’m such a loser, I literally got A Day of Fallen Night signed in person by beloved Samantha Shannon and I still haven’t read it yet 😭😭😭

4. Most anticipated release for the second half of the year?

I don’t really keep up to date with upcoming releases, I just find out Somehow like through tumblr or my Goodreads mutuals, but I do know that the next Heartstopper volume is out sometime this year, so I’m looking forward to that.

5. Biggest disappointment?

I have three for this: Before the Coffee Gets Cold by Toshikazu Kawaguchi, Pet Sematary by Stephen King, and Vengeful by V. E. Schwab.

BtCGC was immensely boring, especially the writing — I guess you could say it’s own hype killed it for me. I heard that it was initially a play, or something along the lines of that? If so, then I think I can confidently say that with how it was written, it did not suit the medium.

Pet Sematary also disappointed me for not living up to its expectations as there’s this short section before the story starts where King basically says it’s one of his darkest stories yet and blah blah it chilled him so he had to put it away for a while before publishing it, so, obviously, I was quite excited!

But, once I actually got stuck into it, it just didn’t really stick out to me as anything special, well, at least compared to coming off reading Shawshank Redemption and ‘Salem’s Lot. Plus, ableism is quite rooted into this one so at times it just was difficult to enjoy, personally.

As for Vengeful, I felt that it was an unnecessary sequel. It didn’t add to Vicious, if anything I’d say it detracted from the overall story by following around all these new characters when what made Vicious so fun was the dynamic between Victor and Eli.

6. Biggest surprise?

I’m Thinking of Ending Things by Iain Reid was quite unexpected. It wasn’t one of my favourites so far from this year, but, regardless, was a big surprise since it deviated far from my expectations.

7. Favourite new author (debut or new to you)?

Sayaka Murata. I loved Convenience Store Woman and Earthlings so I’m intrigued for any future projects of hers! It was interesting how fundamentally similar these two books, like two sides of the same coin, but told in two very different ways. Fantastic stuff.

8. Newest fictional crush/newest favourite character?

Merricat my beloved <3 (also Fami and Asa)

9. Book that made you cry?

I’ve never cried while reading soz

10. Book that made you happy?

Love & Autism by Kay Kerr. I just felt very seen reading this, being able to identify myself within the pages. It also felt special to me since for once it’s not a book about autism addressed to allistic people, it’s a book about autism, written by an autistic author, for an autistic audience.

Tagging: @swordfaery @ignorantsackofeyeballs @moodymika @sarenite (no pressure if you don’t want to do this, also if you just see this post and want to do it feel free to continue the chain)

[namboobieslover]

Kintsugi: the beauty of broken things || MYG

Chapter 3

Summary: Yoongi and Minnie have been friends for quite some time now, almost... 15 years? 15 years since they ran into each other in that music classroom by an unlucky (or not) mistake. They've grown close, but both of them have strong characters and insecurities that will have to be put aside when Minnie falls into her own lie, risking her job in the process. They have 3 days to feel comfortable and make everyone believe their role as the young engaged couple or she is fucked :[

Pairing: musical producer! Yoongi x lab tech/science nerdy! f reader au; non-idol! BTS members make a brief appearance

Genre: fluff, angst, kinda slow burn (?), best friends to fake couple au, constant unresolved sexual tension, two idiots too proud to openly speak but pinning each other

Warnings: use of bad language, mentions of insecurities/low self-esteem, anxiety, trauma; light use of weed, little smut if you scrutinize, SFW

Masterlist: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // 9 // ...

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

CHAPTER 3: We on, baby.

Word count: 2816

I wake up with a pounding headache as soon as I open my eyes in the morning.

-When will I learn to stop drinking? - I fumble to myself while holding my head between my hands.

Takes me more than it should but I finally get up, my reflection in the bathroom mirror remembering the bad choices of last night.

After a long shower, I feel again like a human being. After brushing my teeth the unsettling feeling in my stomach is gone.

I don't have much time to get ready, so I pick whatever clothing looks comfier and I start my way to the bus stop.

The trip gives me a few minutes to check my smartphone, answering some unread messages from family and friends but especially Yoongi.

The day goes slow, really slow. My eyes hurt when looking at the little samples through the microscope but the silence in the lab is exquisite. 1-1 in cons vs pros.

Even though my mind is a little foggy, it's a good evening. I'm able to keep a stable medium for the cells to grow and it seems like the replication of the environment is going as it should. Also, the culture I did to explore the possibilities of a virus as a treatment is growing nicely. My research is on the right path.

I finish around 9:30 pm thanks to all my good achievements and I'm really hungry.

The place I’ve chosen to order tonight's dinner it's the one with vegetarian burgers near my job; a lot of time has passed since the last time I ate here. I pick my favourite (the delicious plant-based), for Yoongi the one with veal and lastly, a portion of potatoes to share.

-Hi Minnie, how are you today? -the grandma who owns this place asks me- I haven't seen you for a long time; where have you been?

-I've been busy with work lately; my routine has been hectic.

-It's noticeable; you have lost weight and it is unusual to see you with eye bags. Aren’t you resting enough?

-More or less; it's a temporary situation. Hopefully next week things will come to their normal rhythm. But I really missed your food Mrs Lee -I speak honestly while pouting- You are the closest thing to my mother's food in this city.

-And you are my favourite client so please, come visit more even if it's just to have a coffee. I find all your science things interesting, as does my Sandra.

-How is she?

-She is studying every chance she has; your notes have helped her greatly. She also told me that you are available to answer her doubts.

-Yeah of course. It's an honour to be able to help another woman to infiltrate this amazing world that science is. Sadly there are fewer of us than it should be.

-I appreciate that so much… -she gets a little emotional at my words.

-What about you? How is it going with the knee replacement?

-Rest of my body it's still old but that knee seems like it has its own life. My younger grandson, Taeyang, says that I have become a transformer.

After a little more catch-up talk while food is in the making, I start my way to Yoongi’s apartment; 10 minutes away from here.

The walk is nice and feels super fast while listening to my favourite songs. Lately, that has been Namjoon 's latest álbum, Indigo. I swear, that man is a poet hiding behind his hip-hop style and a smoking hot body that seems little when he has a clumsy day. The lyricism of his songs makes my heart flutter and I'll never get tired of telling him.

One good thing about Yoongi's work is the fact that I'm able to meet new artists he is friends with, and learn about other cultures, influences and styles. He always introduces me to them and usually, it is really easy to be part of their little musician group even if I'm not that well instructed in that area. The group we all have is "pussycians" since half of those boys are afraid to let people get to know them (strangely that doesn't apply to one-night stands and I lectured them about it) and I'm a girl + a bunch of musicians boys. As you can tell, the last idea wasn’t mine but from Kim Seokjin, the older of us.

With "Still life" at its maximum level, I finally reach my best friend's door. I struggle a little but when I'm about to open it, it does by itself showing a dishevelled Yoongi. He scares me and I can't hear a word of what he is saying with the earphones on.

-Holy crap Yoongi, you scared me to death -I struggle to say still agitated while taking them off - one day you'll be the reason I end up with a heart attack.

-You were noisy; it's not my fault. You didn't listen because of the music. You'll be deaf before turning thirty if you don't stop using the highest level.

-Don’t you feel like, sometimes, with some songs, listening to them doesn't feel enough to you? Like… I wish every single note were able to enter my brain and scratch it internally till I can't think any more.

-Umm… I guess -he agrees with me a little confused, but entertained.

I enter his house with him closing the front door after me. I go directly to the small table that sits near the sofa; the usual place we eat instead of the main table.

-Which song was that good? -my friend asks while tearing the sleep away from his eyes.

-Namjoon's "Still Life". His latest álbum is incredible; you have hard competition, boy.

-Indigo is cool, but maybe I'm a little more into J-hope's "Jack in the Box". Kinda old school hip-hop, dark, rock vibes… but that's on my taste.

-Same but reverse for me, so I get you. I really like Hobi's main songs and even the intro with all the Pandora thingy or Equal Sign, but it doesn't exactly match my taste as a general artwork.

I unpack the food while talking about it and its smell makes my stomach roar.

-Is this from Mrs Lee's place? -Yoongi asks, finally awakened.

-Yeah. Told me to send you greetings in her name.

-Oh, she is so nice… Is her knee okay?

-Perfect. Little Tae told her that she is now half transformer.

-That kid is my favourite Mrs Lee grandchildren.

-Mine has to be Sandra.

-Of course you love her; she is a little you. Maybe not like you exactly; Sandra is less annoying.

He says that with a serious face, but after feeling my death glare, he can't help but smile arrogantly looking at his burger.

-I'm so glad I spilt on your food; I knew that sooner or later it would be handy and deserved.

-Don't worry honey boo-boo, nothing you do can disgust me -he answers mockingly knowing that I didn't commit such an act.

The rest of the dinner is chill. Some dating show on the TV and a light conversation about our jobs.

Once we finish the delicious food he offers me some dessert but I refuse. A little liquor some friend gifted him? Not that much. But it's understandable; it is a sweet creamy one that tastes heavenly.

-So…going straight to the point: let's talk about the plan.

-Well damn -I say almost choking on the drink- what do you wanna start with?

-Maybe…nicknames? That seems to be easiest between today's tasks -he says looking in a notepad.

-Is that a list?

-Of course. When we talked about it I took notes before forgetting due to alcohol.

-Let me see it.

"Free Minnie"

-I will ignore that name but you are an idiot Yoongles.

-○—○—○—○—○—○—○—○—○—○—○—○

"Free Minnie"

☆ 2-part plan

Day 1:

✅️ Partying together and pretending to be a couple.

✅️ Wearing clothes the other likes.

✅️ Getting used to holding hands and side hugging.

✅️ Getting comfortable being close to each other.

Day 2:

☑️  Accord lovey-dovey nicknames

☑️  Comfortably hug each other/being near/share the same vital space.

☑️  Practice:

Introducing each other

"Love story"

Pecks (????)  🤮🤮

-^---^---^---^---^---^---^---^---^---^---^---^---^

-Yeah, the nickname issue seems like the best fit for an appetiser. Do you have something in mind? -I answer kinda surpassed by all the tasks for today.

-For me or you?

-Whatever.

-What about calling you “my little pumpkin”?

-Are you kidding?

-No… Isn’t that what partners call each other? Some girls I dated read romance books where they talk like that.

-Well, I don't know. I never had that kind of relationship.

-Me neither.

We erupt in laughter. None of us has ever had a relationship that serious, meaning this stuff is new to us.

-Let’s start with me -I offer as an ice-breaker- I don’t know about what other people like, or you, but I’m not into clinging words. Pumpkin… is too much. I guess the better option is something on the classical side: honey, sweetheart or even Minnie since nobody calls me like that in my working environment. ‘’Babe’’ is acceptable if we feel comfortable enough with it.

-I’m not an affectionate person in speaking terms so…that’s perfect for me, honey.

I feel a slight shiver running down my body.

-Ugh, that felt weird without the sarcastic tone.

-To me too -he laughs- but we have to get used to it in less than 24 hours. Do you want another glass?

Then I realise that my drink is long finished. This liquor is truly dangerous.

-Yeah, this is delicious.

-It was a gift from one of Jimin’s travels. From the northwestern part of Spain if I’m not wrong.

-I envy him so much… he is always travelling.

-That day will come for us too, I’m sure -he declares while handing me the now filled (to the top) vase. He served himself some whiskey.

-You better be right Min Yoongi -I menace while gulping some of the hot liquid- Now… What about you? What are your chosen nicknames?

-It would be incredible if you called me “sexy monster” or something similar. That has one hundred per cent of probabilities to erase any type of doubt.

-If I ever get so drunk that the only option to get me sober is making me puke, repeat that phrase word by word, it will work.

He smacks my arm jokingly.

-Now, on a serious note… I like when you call me Yoongs, Yoongles or Yoon. And that also feels personal, don’t you think?

-Can do the work.

-I feel comfortable with babe or honey/handsome. But not baby; that’s a little cringe.

-I agree. I hate that.

-What’s the worst nickname someone has called you?

-Like… ever?

-Yeah.

-You are not ready for that, and I’m not drunk enough to say it out loud. Ask me later -I answer flustered with a playful wink.

-Don’t worry I won’t forget. Also… you tend to match inversely your lack of shyness with the alcohol level in your blood. This is going to be a fun night.

-Bla, bla, bla. Let’s keep going.

I take a bathroom rest that also allows me to change my contact lenses to the glasses. I don’t feel comfortable wearing them in public, so every day I deal with changing between both at my desk at the office of the lab, all to fulfil my work protocols and also my social anxiety. A routine I got during the pandemic time with the struggle of getting fog in the glasses due to the mask when sudden changes of temperature happen (such as entering a place, the bus…).

-I’m back, babe -I announce funnily stumbling a little with the rug’s verge. Seems like alcohol is silently doing its work- Let’s talk about how you fell in love with me.

He chokes on his drink.

-Yoongles, I was talking about the false love story.

-I know, I know. My brain is working a little slower than usual and it has a lot of things to process.

-I was thinking that keeping it real is the best. The easier, the better. You know how they say that the best lies contain some truth behind them. We can just keep the original first meeting and the school years like they were, but makeup something about college years.

-Like what?

-Aren’t you going to add something?

-Liberal arts -he excuses himself and shrugs- You are the brains, I’m the unpolluted taste. That’s how we always work, sweetheart.

I roll my eyes.

-We can explain that in the urge to reduce expenses, we decided to become flatmates. Living 24/7 made us realise that we are perfect for each other and it was difficult, but we took the step a year after. How many years are socially accepted to date before getting engaged?

-Two? -he answers, as lost as me.

-Maybe… four?

-Isn’t that a lot if we had met in high school?

-That’s true.

-What about three?

-Three is it. Who decided to take the first step in the process from friends to lovers?

-Maybe you? You have 0 patience and probably your colleagues know it… Honey.

-Yeah, sounds like me -I have to admit.

-About establishing a relationship… that fits me better. You are impatient but insecure; you would have a hard time getting the confidence. Same for the engagement?

-First of all: I’m not that insecure -I start getting kind of riled up- Second-

-Before you continue, let me ask you something. For how long have you owned those glasses?

-Mmm… around two years I think.

-Then, how is this one the first time I see you with them?

I don’t have to answer that because he knows.

-If not that, then answer the following: what do you think about yourself? Do you consider yourself pretty?

Is this what a deer caught in the headlights feels like? How can be asking this so suddenly while keeping the calm front that characterizes him? He is so annoying.

-That’s what I thought -it angers me a little to see how sure he is about that premise- Do you want a refill?

I was so nervous that once again I had finished my drink.

-I think I’m ready to try something stronger -I challenge him.

-We on, baby.

A/N: Sorry I've been missing but uni has me on constant house arrest omg. These ones are shorter but we are getting there. Hope you like it and hope you have a good night/evening... Feel free to give some feedback :)

#agust d #yoongi #suga #min yoongi #bts x fem!reader #bts x reader #bts yoongi #bts fanfction #bts x curvy reader #yoongi x curvy reader #yoongles #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi x oc #yoongi x y/n #min yoongi fanfic #min yoongi scenarios #haegeum #dday #producer yoongi #bts au fanfic #bts au #bts aus #bts army

[sentientdroids]

Fic Author Self Rec

When you get this, reply with your favourite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love.

i was tagged by my darling @pchberrytea ❤️ throwing tags at some of the most talented people i know @jld-az @shallow-gravy @lilin-writes @ejunkiet @tiesthatbind1899

-

1. Comply [Marvel Cinematic Universe]

In her, some part of him recognizes itself.

Or, in which SHIELD is reformed and not dissolved, and Bucky feels the weight of his wounds. A story told in vignettes.

MYY FKN BABY my current hyperfixation the air that i breathe. like all my most precious ideas, this one came to me in a dream and shortly after, wrecked my life and stole my sanity. literally don’t care if this is only ever for me bc i adore the story and the characters and their relationships to each other. the chapters are short and i’ll probably always worry that it’s a bad thing but i also feel that the medium suits the particular story i’m trying to tell and anyway i have Bucky Barnes brain rot and it’s terminal

2. Visage [The Mandalorian]

The way Mandalorians appreciate beauty is...subtle. Quiet and reverent.

This is the way.

eyyyy i just wanted Din Djarin to be soft and yearning and it’s completely self-indulgent

3. Cruel World [Fallout 4]

Danse and Nora's relationship fell apart years ago, but when they both end up in the Commonwealth waging war against the Institute, their paths cross again.

Time can't heal everything but they'll always have a soft spot for each other.

listen…..reading it now it’s kinda hot garbage LMAO i’m really tempted to rewrite it but it’s never gonna not be one of my faves because it was my first fic and the thing about me is i’m a sentimental ass bitch and also i’m in love with Nora <3 it made me so many friends and i grew tremendously while writing it and i think about it all the time. the story that got me through college has a special place in my heart.

4. Whiplash [Red Dead Redemption II]

Arthur Morgan meets a lone outlaw, a wanted woman, and his pursuit of her isn’t purely a matter of money.

i proved a lot to myself with this one. i made a character much different than what came naturally to me and it’s finished (!!) and damn. got a lot of seratonin from Maggie thank uuuu outlaws for life

5. Gaps in the Armor [Fallout 4]

She strikes when he isn’t ready, like any worthy adversary. She’s formidable, beautiful, and she knows how to shoot through the gaps in his armor.

this one is also impressive simply by virtue of it actually having been completed. i did wanna take it another direction at one point and draw it out more but i wanna do that with everything so what’s new y’know. i do actually like this one still mostly and it’s some of the only smut i’ve shared and even if it ain’t much it was a big step!today i can proudly say i’m unapologetically horny on main, even if i still keep my smut locked away where it can’t see the light of day.

#fic author self rec #boy i do not like reading my old stuff #growth is real tho amen

[femefetalelevelingup]

I posted 268 times in 2022

That's 268 more posts than 2021!

39 posts created (15%)

229 posts reblogged (85%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@luxuryandlilacs

@perlesdevanille

@notordinaryfashion

@femmefatalevibe

@sherazat

I tagged 144 of my posts in 2022

Only 46% of my posts had no tags

#femininity - 39 posts

#leveling up - 29 posts

#asian luxury - 25 posts

#luxury - 24 posts

#hypergamy - 23 posts

#hypergamous - 23 posts

#femme fatale - 21 posts

#fashion - 20 posts

#asian woman in luxury - 19 posts

#level up - 17 posts

Longest Tag: 75 characters

#not my photos but the source is on my tumblr (marieetudie) moodboards board

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

🌹About me🌹

Hello everyone Welcome to my blog my name is Svetlana ,i am in my early-twenties, currently enhancing my skills for fashion design . Ive built this blog to connect with anyone

My skills range from some basics to medium in the actual designing process and engaging into the styling side .

In my blog will contain moodboards relating to sensuality , fashion esspecially inspirational designers , some of my works too , femeninity , leveling up , hypergamy as so much more

Moodboard side blog

One of my biggest why i chose to level up is to be the better version of myself as a woman and a creative with improving in many ways and i want to show them as to see the improvment too .

What i love about embracing femeninity and its styles is mostly how we are unique when it comes to the way we act and share our lives within both including the stories behind it as they evolve through out our lives and it cant be changed.

The idea of conforming to the plains or the people who downgrade the idea of being a better version of you and a stylish version is just not worth it anymore . As i go through this plus my side blog a mood board i hope we can all have an amazing time .

If i have any tips id love to share it with you all

If you would like to messege me that is fine ^^

12 notes - Posted July 2, 2022

#4

This may be a meme but its a good point .

17 notes - Posted June 30, 2022

#3

Kibbe types

20 notes - Posted June 30, 2022

#2

See the full post

25 notes - Posted July 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Plus make a brand

26 notes - Posted December 12, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[pigeonflavouredcake]

I just jumped the gun and bought some boxers from the men's section. They're a size small.

I just discovered I'm too small for a small.

I also just discovered that the men's section don't carry extra small.

I am now going to burrito myself in blankets until i am a shapeless blob and try to come to terms with the idea of going back to shopping in the kid's section.

#seeing myself as a woman's medium for 3-4 years #the idea of shopping in the kid's section again seems wrong #enby stuff #enby fashion #enby things #enby #non binary #nonbinary #Non-binary #nb shitposting

[saynotoshityouhate]

For Science Ch. 5

Ch. 1 // Ch. 2 // Ch. 3 // Ch. 4

Words: 1781

Tags: angst, love, neediness, bathtub sex, he’s too big but (spoiler) we make it work.

It had been three days. Three long, agonizing days since Bruce slammed the front door and ran away. Yesterday he sent a text, asking if he could come home. Seeing his name light up your screen made your heart jump, so happy to know he was safe and coming back to you. You responded with an enthusiastic yes.

He’d never left like this before - you’d never had a fight or had a moment where his emotions took over so badly. Of course you’d welcome him back, you’d never worried he would hurt you. Not anymore - not since he’d found this new happy medium between his two personas. Bruce clearly wasn’t as confident.

It was hard having him gone for those first few days of your new job at the university, and you’d wished he’d been there to laugh at some of the silly mistakes you had made. His bellowing chuckles were some of your favorite noises in the world.

Pulling up the driveway after classes were through, you saw Bruce’s car parked back in its normal place. Your stomach flipped, unsure what to expect, although you were mostly excited to see him.

You quietly opened the back door, walking into the kitchen. Taking off your heels, you heard soft, muffled classical music and smelled lavender and citrus. You smiled, heading straight to the master bath. The door was cracked open slightly, and you could see the warm glow of candles dancing across the shiny tile walls.

You knocked quietly on the door and pushed it open gently, just enough to stick your head inside. “Bruce?”

Bruce’s head was resting against the cool tile behind him, his eyes closed and his breathing regular. He must have just fallen asleep, his large frame filling most of the oversized jacuzzi tub. “Bruce?” You whispered again, awakening him from his dream. His warm eyes met yours, taking a moment to focus and register that you were really there. “Y/N, I -“ Bruce rested his hands on the side of the tub, beginning to push himself up to greet you. “No, no - stay there, you look so peaceful.” You nervously played with the hem of your untucked blouse.

“May I?” You lifted your hands to the top buttons of your blouse, pausing for Bruce’s approval. His adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he nodded, adjusting his dark glasses up the bridge of his nose. You proceeded in unbuttoning your crisp white shirt, setting it off to the side. Your back was turned to the submerged Bruce, but you knew the slight shimmy of your hips as you stepped out of your skirt and panties would excite him.

You backed yourself over to the edge of the tub, presenting your back to Bruce. He loved unclasping your bra for you. He took pride in being able to do it with just a flick of his finger, and seeing the tension leave your back and shoulders filled him with warmth. You moved the straps down your shoulders and dropped it to the floor, reveling in the ease of domestic life with Bruce - even in this uncomfortable silence.

Lowering yourself into the bubbles across from him, you sighed. The last few days had been hard on you, you were worried about Bruce, had started your new job, and had been brainstorming on ways to reverse your boyfriend’s physical predicament. You stretched your legs out in front of you, resting them against Bruce’s thighs. He took one foot in his large hand, rubbing the arch with gentle pressure. Your eyes fluttered closed at the wonderful release.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry for how I reacted.” Bruce’s eyes were cast downwards in shame. “I was so upset with myself, I didn’t want to risk anything happening…” You interrupted him. “No, I overreacted. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m just happy you’re back.” You poked him with your other foot, asking him to do the same magic there as well.

“Where did you go?” You asked timidly, not sure you really wanted to know the answer. “I just went to the tower - Tony left my room as-is…just in case.” You made a noise of acknowledgement, your fingers idly playing with the bubbles that adorned your chest.

“I never stopped thinking about you.” Bruce extended a hand, inviting you to come closer. You accepted, allowing him to pull you onto his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck. “I was scared, Bruce.” He held your face in his hand, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. “I’m sorry. It’ll never happen again.”

You kissed him fiercely, as if you wanted him to stop talking before he gave any excuses or reasons to leave again. You couldn’t help the whimpers leaving your chest, three days was a long time for you two to be apart.

Bruce’s cock throbbed against you, eliciting a groan from the large man. “I missed you so much,” he mumbled, nipping and sucking at your neck and collar bone. Moving to straddle his waist, Bruce’s hands found your hips, helping hold you steady.

“I wanna try - I think I can do it - I wanna try.” You ground your hips against his hardening length, your breaths already ragged and uneven. You knew it would hurt, but you wanted to do this for him. You were certainly wet enough. “No, I don’t wanna hurt you, don’t-“

You had your mind made up. Your much smaller hand took Bruce’s from his waist, bringing it to your core. “Stretch me out, please. I need you.” He could never resist you. Slowly inserting one large digit, knuckle by knuckle, his eyes were trained on you, closely monitoring for any inkling of pain or discomfort. You were feeling nothing of the sort. Your head was thrown back, the stretch sending delicious shockwaves through your limbs.

“One more, please” you breathed. “Y/N, I-“ You shot him a look, like daggers from your irises. “One. More. Please.” Bruce sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. He adjusted his fingers, slowly adding a second, drawing a moan from deep inside you. “I think - I think I’m ready. Please - give it to me? Let me make you feel good. Please?”

“Baby, I’m not sure about this. Let’s just start here, you’re taking me so well, maybe next time, we gotta take it slow.” You whined, loudly, and bucked your hips down onto his two, thick fingers. The water of the tub splashed over the edge. “Don’t wan’ take it slow, Bruce. Wan’ you - your cock. Puhleeeaase, Bruce.”

“The minute anything starts to hurt, you have to tell me, okay? Promise?” You nodded your head vigorously before pulling him closer and kissing him in gratitude. Bruce slowly removed his digits, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing but the bath water.

Bruce’s eyes were dark with lust, but still maintained the warmth of his concern for you. He held your gaze as he aligned himself with your opening. Every millimeter seemed to take an hour, your breath hitching in your throat as you stretched further to accommodate him. Bruce held your hips tightly, trying to maintain control and composure as you took him so well. It had been years since he felt the velvety warmth of a woman around him.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders as he continued to move slowly and methodically. You focused on your breathing, in through your nose, out through your mouth - pushing out whines and whimpers along the way. You attempted to hide your face in the crook of his neck, but Bruce pushed you back, wanting to keep an eye on you. “You’re doing so well, my girl, look at you.”

Looking down, you expected to see that he had completely bottomed out inside you, but there was plenty more left to go. His hand held the base, not allowing you to go any further, if that was even possible. You smiled up at him, so proud of yourself, feeling so full.

Bruce’s heart swelled - and he could finally relax knowing you were okay…better than okay really. You began to rock your hips, exploring your body’s limits, feeling the push and pull of Bruce against your walls. It was worth the effort.

You established a comfortable rhythm, riding him slowly, but forcefully. The waves of now lukewarm water splashed around you, adding to the symphony of delicious noises you both were making - the feelings sending you both into nonverbal bliss. Bruce began to tense, and you weren’t far behind. The only one with a free hand, you reached down to access your clit, quickly sending shockwaves of pleasure ripping through you. You clenched down on Bruce’s girth as you climaxed, sending him over the edge with you. His guttural growl sent vibrations through your skin as he filled you up for the very first time. You collapsed into him, every muscle giving out from the pain and exertion.

Bruce held your weakened body in his arms, both of you exhausted beyond belief. The tub had turned cold and you began to shiver. Concerned, he held you tightly with one arm while he used the other to push himself out of the bath. You clung tightly to his neck as he walked you to the bedroom. Placing your down gently, he dried you off with a towel and handed you your robe to snuggle up into before returning to clean up the bathroom. Once you were dressed, you crawled back to the pillows aligned neatly on your bed and waited for Bruce to return.

Wrapped up in your fluffy robe, you nuzzled into Bruce’s chest. “Can I ask you a question?” Your fingers idly traced his chest, droplets of water still gripping the coarse hairs on his sternum. Bruce grunted in the affirmative, his eyelids were heavy the minute his head hit the pillow. “If you could, you know, switch back. Would you?”

Bruce hummed. “I mean, I’ve thought about it. Done some basic calculations, consulted with colleagues…but that was all before.”

“Before what?” You whispered, tipping your head to look up at him, his eyes still closed gently.

“Before you. Before our life together. Before I saw the way your eyes light up when I enter a room. You read about that sort of thing in books, right? But I never knew it was real. And me? Of all people? In this state?” You sat up, captivated by his words, tears welling up and blurring your vision. His eyes met yours, one hand tracing your spine, while the other held yours.

“So no. I’m not interested in changing back. I am Bruce Banner, I am the Hulk, and I love you.”

#saynotoshityouhate #for science #bruce banner angst #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner smut #professor hulk x reader #professor hulk #marvel smut #avengers fic

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Dead Man’s Cell Phone--Chapter 2

Summary: When Emma Swan starts getting phone calls and texts from an unfamiliar number, she decides to check it out–only to discover the number belongs to a Killian Jones, who was killed in a robbery gone wrong six months ago.  With some help from a medium, Merlin Emrys, Emma hopes to find out why a dead guy is contacting her–and why she feels such a strong pull to someone she has never met before.

Rating: K+

Tagging a few people who may be interested (Let me know if you want to be added or taken off the list): @sailormew4 @annaamell @flslp87 @emmateo26 @bethacaciakay @ultraluckycatnd @effulgent-mind @ilovemesomekillianjones@kat2609 @brooke-to-broch @missgymgirl @galadriel26 @the-lady-of-misthaven @charmingturkeysandwich @jennjenn615 @laschatzi @kimmy46 @snowbellewells @iamanneenigma @daxx04 @nickillian @a-rose-for-a-savior@in-spirational @gillie  @britishguyslover @ginnyjinxedandhanshotritafirst@kmomof4  @linda8084 @golfgirld @captain-swan-coffee @searchingwardrobes @hollyethecurious @laughswaytoomuch@allyourdarlingswans @winterbaby89 @facesiousbutton82 @cssns @therooksshiningknight, @lfh1226-linda @tiganasummertree @eastwesthomeisbest @dreamingdreamsalways @xsajx @justren21 @laughterandbooks @cocohook38​ @therealstartraveller776​

Welcome to my entry for the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer! A big thank you to @cssns​, the ladies on the Discord!  Thank you also to @eastwesthomeisbest​, my artist and my beta @veryverynotgood​!

Other Chapters: Prologue 1 3 4 Epilogue 

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

"So after the phone calls, the text messages started coming," Emma said, settling into her best friend's plush sofa.

"Texts?" Mary Margaret asked curiously before taking a sip of her tea. "What kind of texts?"

It felt like Emma had known Mary Margaret forever. Both girls were placed in the system at young ages-Emma, because her parents abandoned her on the side of a road as an infant, and Mary Margaret, because her parents both died of illness. They ended up in the same group home, and quickly became the best of friends. They were closer than sisters until the day Mary Margaret was adopted by Cora Mills, and then eventually, Emma was fostered by Ruth Nolan.

Even after being placed with other families, Emma and Mary Margaret kept in touch-letters, phone calls, even the occasional visit. On one such visit, Emma's foster brother, David, was home from college, and as soon as he and Mary Margaret met, it was love at first sight.

They were so in love it was honestly a bit nauseating.

When they got married fresh out of college, Emma couldn't be happier. She'd always considered Mary Margaret her sister in all the ways that counted, and now they truly were.

There was no doubt about it - Mary Margaret Nolan was the person Emma was closest to in the entire world, and so it was only natural that when the weird stuff with the cell phone started happening, Emma decided to discuss it with her.

"Weird ones," Emma answered, taking a sip of her own hot cocoa with cinnamon. "Stuff like Help! or You're the only one who can save me!. And then some of them were even stranger. Just...random letters and symbols, almost like someone was randomly pressing buttons on a keyboard."

"So what did you do?" Mary Margaret asked, sitting on the other side of the sofa and turning toward Emma.

Emma shrugged. "I tried answering at first. You know, you hear about people who are abducted and, like, stuck in a basement for years and stuff like that. I kept thinking, what if someone really needed help and I just...ignored them?"

"And what happened when you answered?" Mary Margaret asked.

"Nothing," Emma answered before taking another sip. "No answer, just another cryptic text several hours later. Finally, I decided I'd had enough. Either someone needed help, or someone was messing with me. I decided I'd call the number, decide whether I needed to help them or tell them to go f-" She stopped, glancing over at Mary Margaret's toddler playing with blocks nearby. "Well, go do something not at all child-friendly to themselves."

"Let me guess, your call didn't get through."

"Nope," Emma confirmed, "but it was even weirder than that. I dialed the number just after receiving a text, but it went directly to voicemail."

"But that's not possible!" Mary Margaret exclaimed.

"Right?" Emma said. "So I tried to ignore the whole thing. Maybe the phone was just...I don't know..glitching or something, although I don't know how a technological glitch could make phone calls and text someone. Anyway, for some reason, I just can't let go. Even though I don't know him, somehow I feel a...connection...to this Killian Jones. I just-I don't know what to do about it."

Mary Margaret was silent for a moment, taking several sips of her steaming beverage, before turning back to Emma with a cautious look in her eyes. "There is...there is another possibility, if you have an open mind."

"Just how open are we talking?"

"Pretty open," Mary Margaret said. "What if-and just hear me out, I know this is crazy-what if Killian Jones is contacting you from beyond the grave."

"What, like a ghost?"

Mary Margaret shrugged. "I mean, I know it sounds crazy, but why not? One of the other teachers I work with was talking about this medium. His name is Merlin Emrys. Supposedly he can contact the dead and see ghosts and stuff like that."

"A medium? Seriously?" Emma asked, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow. "Mary Margaret, you know those people are frauds. It's all about researching their marks ahead of time and then cold reading them. They're only in it to bleed as much cash out of vulnerable people as possible."

"I know it sounds crazy," Mary Margaret conceded, "but what if it's not? I've thought about going to him myself. If I could just talk to my parents one more time-make sure they're okay, make sure they've moved on, or whatever happens after someone dies. Well, it would provide a lot of comfort."

Emma's heart turned over, and she took her friend's hand. She knew how much Mary Margaret missed her parents. It was different for Emma. She'd never known her parents, only knew they'd tossed her out like garbage. She wasn't sure she even wanted to find them.

"I know you miss them," Emma said.

"I do," Mary Margaret said, "but that's not the point. The point is...what do you have to lose? Maybe this Merlin is just a quack like you said, but maybe not. Maybe he could be the key to unravelling the whole mystery."

Emma was silent for a moment. It was crazy; she knew it was. A medium wasn't going to give her the answers she needed if all her bail bonds tricks had failed her, but what the hell?

"Fine. I'll go see Merlin," Emma caved.

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

Emma's eyebrows rose as she took in the small, ranch-style house Mary Margaret had directed her to. She was skeptical before seeing the place, but now-now red flags were going up everywhere.

There was a huge, gaudy sign out front that read "Merlin, the great and powerful. Wizard of the unknown and medium of the great beyond." The sign-indeed the entire front of the house-was decorated with all kinds of astrological signs and symbols.

Was this guy even for real?

Emma seriously considered turning around and getting back in her car, but she'd promised Mary Margaret she'd at least check this Merlin out and give him a chance, and Emma was a woman of her word. She took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

A moment later, an older man with longish, thinning gray hair and a rather unkempt gray beard opened the door. He was wearing long robes. Really playing the part, apparently.

"Merlin Emrys, I presume?" Emma asked as the man welcomed her inside with a sweep of his hand.

The man chuckled. "I'm afraid not. I'm merely his apprentice. Who might I tell Merlin is calling?"

Emma cocked an eyebrow. "You mean your all powerful boss didn't see me coming with his second sight or whatever?"

Emma stepped inside and the apprentice shut the door after her. "My master isn't clairvoyant. He merely has the ability to speak with the dead."

"Right," Emma said, not even trying to tamp down the skepticism in her voice. "I'm Emma Swan, and I'm here to-"

He stopped her with a raised hand. "Don't say too much. Merlin does not wish to be influenced by his clients. He wishes to sense the energy around you for himself."

Emma shrugged. "Sorry."

"It's quite alright," the apprentice said, moving toward large drapes at the far end of the room. "I'll be just a moment. Please, make yourself comfortable."

Emma looked around the room while she waited, and it took everything in her to keep from rolling her eyes. This guy was really playing up the whole "psychic" thing. It felt like she was in some sort of fortune teller carnival tent. All the signs and symbols. This guy even had a crystal ball. An actual crystal ball.

This trip was a massive waste of her time, but maybe it would at least prove to be entertaining.

"Emma Swan, welcome!"

Emma looked up at the handsome black man who made his way through the curtains. He was dressed in much the same way as his apprentice, only he wore a sorcerer's pointy hat on his head.

"Uh, thanks," Emma said, stepping forward and offering her hand. "Full disclosure. I'm more than a little bit of a skeptic, so if this is one of those 'it can only work if you truly believe' deals, we might have a problem."

"My gift can withstand the doubts of the skeptic," he chuckled before reaching out and taking her hand.

No sooner had his hand touched hers than he gasped, taking a step back, eyes going wide. "Would you-would you care to follow me back to my private sitting room, Miss Swan? It's far more comfortable back there."

Emma cocked a brow again, wondering what this odd man was on about. Still, she didn't sense any overt deception in him, and he didn't seem to be any threat to her, so she shrugged before following him through the curtains.

This backroom was far more ordinary than the room they'd just inhabited. Emma took a plush armchair, and Merlin sat on a sofa across from her.

Merlin pulled off his hat and sat it beside him. "I apologize for all the theatrics, Miss Swan," he said, reaching for a pot of tea and then raising an eyebrow in question. Emma declined the beverage with a small shake of her head, and Merlin proceeded to pour himself a cup. "I attempt to play up to what most clients expect from a psychic. Unfortunately, most poor souls who come to see me are out of luck. The loved one they wish to contact has passed on. For most, all I can do amounts to smoke and mirrors. I could tell the moment I shook your hand that you were different."

Emma inwardly scoffed. She knew enough about cons not to be fooled by a clever con man. Made sense he'd use a different tactic with a skeptic than he would with some poor, grief-stricken sap who was a true believer.

"No offense, but I still think you're full of crap," she said.

Merlin smiled. "It seems those with the most energy surrounding them always do."

"So, what?" Emma asked. "Are there ghosts all around me or something?"

"There are a few spirits here with us today," Merlin confirmed. "There's one who's quite insistent. It's a man; looks as though he died rather young. I don't sense he's family, but you were close. Maybe coworkers? Perhaps friends?"

Emma took a deep breath, a face coming to mind. Surely he couldn't mean-

"I'm getting a G in the name," Merlin said slowly. "Greg or Gray….no. Graham."

Emma's heart turned over. Graham. Sweet, slightly dorky Graham Humbert. They'd worked together on more than a few cases, and they'd become good friends.

In fact, they'd been teetering on the precipice of possibly becoming more than friends when he died suddenly.

"How did you know to mention Graham? How did you know that name would get the biggest rise out of me?" Emma demanded, voice hard.

"I don't choose the spirits who come to me," Merlin explained calmly, "I merely give them a voice. Graham is pleased to see you again. He's glad you're doing well."

The anger came then, spurred on by the pain the memory of Graham's death brought back. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"He died quite suddenly, didn't he?" Merlin asked, ignoring her question. "I'm feeling a tightness in my chest. Something with his heart?"

"Heart attack," Emma confirmed tightly. "He had a heart attack right in front of me and died in my arms."

"He's sorry, so very sorry you had to go through that," Merlin said, putting a comforting hand on her arm. "He never wanted to be a source of pain for you."

Emma felt the tears at the back of her eyes and had to take a deep breath to keep them from falling. "Yeah, well, he didn't exactly have a say in the matter. Look, I don't know how you knew to bring up Graham, but I'm still not buying it."

"He apologizes he couldn't bring you a bear claw today," Merlin continued with a smile. "Oh, and he asks if you remember the day he thought he saw a wolf. He wants you to know he wasn't drunk. It really was there-in spirit at least."

Emma gasped, remembering the night she and Graham had gone to the Rabbit Hole for a drink after a long shift and Graham swore he spotted a big, gray wolf right there on the main street of town. Emma had made fun of him for that, telling him he'd clearly imbibed a bit too much that night. There's no way Merlin could have known about that incident. He couldn't have found it in any newspaper or online article about Graham's death.

Was it...was it possible this guy was the real deal?

"Okay, I admit, it's weird you'd bring that up," Emma said. "Let's say I believe you, can you ask Graham if he's okay? If he, like, moved on or whatever?"

"You just asked him," Merlin said. "He's here with us and can hear you. He wants to tell you that he is okay. He's more than okay; he's happy. He's moved on, and he's at peace, more than he could have ever thought possible."

Emma smiled, feeling comfort at the thought.

"There's someone else here with us as well," Merlin said. "Another male presence, but I don't believe you know this one. This one seems angry, desperate."

"Um...should we be scared?" Emma asked.

Merlin shook his head. "He doesn't mean us harm, only wants his story told. He's too indistinguishable to speak now, but I sense he'll be accompanying us on our journey today as well."

Wonderful. An angry, desperate ghost guide. Just fantastic.

"So, Emma," Merlin said, after a moment, "what brings you to me tonight?"

Emma pulled out her phone and laid out the entire story for Merlin. She told him about the calls, the texts, everything. Merlin took her phone in hand and gasped as soon as it touched his hand.

"There is a huge amount of energy here," he said. "There's no doubt a spirit has attached itself to you-or at least your phone."

Emma felt a chill. "My phone is haunted?"

"Not precisely," Merlin murmured, turning the device over in his hand. "Someone wishes to get your attention; wishes for you to help him, but there's something odd here, something I can't quite place."

"What do you mean?"

"The spirit is...indistinct," Merlin said, "hazy and just beyond my reach. I've never experienced anything like this."

Emma waited, her curiosity more than piqued at Merlin's odd reaction to her cell phone.

After a moment, Merlin's eyes widened. "Your friend Graham cleared up the mystery for me."

"What?" Emma asked. "What does Graham say is going on?"

"The reason I can't get a clear read on the spirit attached to your phone-this Killian Jones-is, well, because he's not dead."

Notes:

-So there you have it. For those of you who have wondered how this story could possibly have a happy ending since Killian is dead-this is how. He's not actually dead!

-Up next: With Merlin's help, Emma finds out how this is all possible-and she finds the not-dead Killian Jones.

                                                                            Next Chapter-->

#cssns21 #captain swan supernatural summer #my franfiction #cs ghost story au #dead man's cell phone

[yurimother]

LGBTQ Manga Review – If I Could Reach You Vol. 4 & 5

If I Could Reach You remains an incredibly emotional and powerful story

I vaguely remember once staying home from school as a child for a somewhat extended period with an illness, and upon my recovery, I was loath to return. However, my father said that the longer I wait, the harder and more awkward it will be to return. It is with that spirit that I drag myself back towards review for the first time in over a month after the ever-grueling modern reality of isolation, paranoia, and working remotely sapped my strength and excess energy for the ninth time. However, if I have to force myself to write a review, groaning and whining all the way, I may as well make it something good, and fortunately, that part was easy to find. Indeed, the end of 2020 and opening of 2021 is stuffed with more Yuri than my lesbian vision board. I chose to go back to the most recent entry in one of my favorite series, If I Could Reach You. Perhaps this shattering and emotionally draining series is not the best medicine to cure the quarantine-blues. Still, it is nice to have a reminder that there are people in the world, or at least in manga, that are as miserable as us.

The fourth volume of If I Could Reach You kicks off when Uta’s mother reenters her life after apparently staying overseas for several years. She intends to start her relationship with Uta over. She insists that the high schooler come live with her, throwing the delicate balance she, her brother Reiichi, and sister-in-law Kaoru have. On top of this, Uta is struggling after her confession to Kaoru failed to reach the older girl, who seemingly interpreted it as a statement of familial friendliness.

During much of this volume, characters avoid the seemingly inevitable, which builds a sense of foreboding or even dread for what may come. Uta devotes more time to her friends, leading to a narrative focus on Chloe and Miyabi’s relationship and the Konatsu telling her story of a relationship with a young teacher. These side stories are compelling enough, but they at least feel like a joined part of the narrative, rather than a distraction as they occasionally drifted towards in previous volumes. Uta learns and grows from seeing her friends’ struggles and appears affected by them, incorporating their experiences into her journey.

Uta’s experiences are mirrored perfectly by Kaoru, who is apparently more suspicious of Uta’s feelings than she let the younger girl believe. Ultimately, this leads to their big confrontation at the start of volume five and, while I will not spoil anything, the results of it are stunning. The author is uniquely able to convey the complex emotions of the characters. Utas feelings after the encounter are ones of guilt, joy, and overwhelming relief. The story is rapidly barreling towards its conclusion as she prepares to leave behind her brother, the woman she loves, and, she hopes, her feelings.

If I Could Reach You’s story is as devastating and shocking as ever. The characters are complicated, and their motivations and feelings are not always clear, but not for lack of clues. Upon repeat reading and analysis of the images, their true feelings become more apparent, showing more detail the more time you spend with it. It is brilliantly paced and rewarding to invested readers who spent the time with the last few volumes and stayed invested and critical during the build-up.

However, the real reason I adore If I Could Reach You is the artwork. Few of the illustrations appear breathtaking at first, or epic in their achievement, but the more so their subtleties. Every shot’s framing, the arrangement of panels, and the characters’ expressive faces and bodies all serve to prop up the story and communicate it and its intricacies perfectly. Indeed, tMnR is the master of visual storytelling and has enough confidence in their art to relieve dialogue and let the art do the work’s brunt. On more than one occasion, back before the series concluded serialization, I would browse the latest chapters in Comic Yuri Hime and just observe the art, without looking up any of the Japanese, and was consistently impressed.

A lot of the time, I feel art, especially dramas, exists only to serve as secondary visuals for the dialogue and stories, a sales banner clamoring for attention and then serving only as talking heads for text which could easily be rewritten in prose or else rearranged into a large group text chat. If I Could Reach You is one of a few works that only really works in visual mediums. Much of this I have said before, but I want just to highlight how astounding and tight tMnR’s focus and artwork is.

If I Could Reach You remains an incredibly emotional and powerful story. The tension continues to rise in volumes 4 and 5, as both our heroines press forward and finally reveal the truth and hurt. The series is subtle yet exceptionally direct, pulling no punches in this complex and devastating whirlwind. It is all accompanied by precise and wonderfully crafted artwork that instills a profound relationship and understanding of its subjects unique to other works. It is one of a select few series that holds my attention and investment, and for an excellent reason.

Ratings: Story – 8 Characters – 7 Art – 10 LGBTQ – 5 Sexual Content – 3 Final – 8

Check out If I Could Reach You volume 4 and 5 digitally and in paperback today: https://amzn.to/3rAHAHi

Reading official releases supports creators and publishers. YuriMother makes a small commission from sales to help fund future content.

Review copies provided by Kodansha Comics

#yuri #reviews #manga #lgbt #lgbtq #lgbtq+ #queer #gay #lesbians #lesbian #girls love #gl #if i could reach you #wlw #anime

[yeeyee-alumni]

Ellie’s (lack of a) character arc & why the result is an unsatisfying story

Let’s state the obvious: Ellie does not have a character arc in The Last of Us Part 2. A character arc is defined as a gradual transformation or inner journey of a character in response to changing developments in the story. And you may argue that Ellie from the beginning of the game is not the same as the one at the end of the game, and I would agree with you. She went from a woman consumed by revenge (not really but we will stick with that for now) to a woman able to forgive her aggressor and move on. However, there are problems with this supposed inner change on multiple levels. a) the change is not gradual b) the change comes out of nowhere c) the change is not informed by anything I don’t think there’s any need to thoroughly explain the first statement. Ellie has the same goal from the beginning to the very last second before attaining her goal. At no point in the story is she self-reflective, questions her methods, there’s no moral dilemma for her, no inner conflict, no doubt that causes her to put her own actions into a new perspective and possibly change her motivation. From beginning to end she believes to be 100% justified in her goal to kill Abby. Subsequently, if Ellie were actually consumed by revenge, the only logical conclusion to her story would be for her to eventually drown Abby.

Which neatly leads me to the next point: her change comes out of nowhere. The decision to let Abby go, as is implied by the narrative, is triggered by a random, arbitrary flashback of Joel. First of all, the timing here is outright comical. For what reason is she having this specific flashback at this very moment? Sounds like contrived, convenient bs to me to give the appearance that her decision is informed by something (which it isn’t, and we'll get to that in a moment). Second of all, getting a flashback to the most important person in your life that has been brutally murdered in front of you, seeing an image of what could have been and what was unjustly taken from you, is not gonna inspire you to forgive your aggressor. If anything, it would make you more determined and sadistic. And third of all, I hear you all yelling "but it was a flashback to their conversation about forgiveness and that inspired her to forgive Abby." And I have multiple qualms regarding this line of thinking. Number one, forgiving the person you love most in this world for having lied to you cannot be compared to forgiving the person who brutally took said person from you. This actually further accentuates my previous point, this is the person that robbed you of your opportunity for reconciliation. Implying that Ellie's thought process here is „I wanted to forgive Joel, but this person robbed me of any opportunity to, so I have to forgive her” is muddled, nonsensical and quite frankly unrealistic. And number two, is the implication here that this is the first time Ellie has thought back to that conversation? That’s a whole new level of nonsense. She will have reflected on all moments with Joel, including this one, and yet at no point prior to this moment had she considered even the possibility of forgiveness, as I have illustrated earlier. So why now? Very obviously to get a payoff, which was neither set up nor properly developed. And moving on to my last point: it is not informed by anything. I know a lot of players didn’t want Ellie to kill Abby, and even I felt that way at first, albeit presumably for entirely different reasons (I was so drained and removed from the narrative by that point that I only thought to myself "just go home, you psychos"). But upon reflection, I concluded that that would have been an unsatisfying conclusion narratively speaking. Nevertheless, Abby seems to have grown dear to many players. After all, they have spent several hours with her, they have seen her struggle, overcome her obstacles, fight for what she believes to be right. Their feelings towards Abby are informed by the person they have seen her to be and by the experiences they went through with her. Yet Ellie is missing all of that context. She has not been with us throughout our three days in Seattle, she doesn’t know Abby outside of her having horrifically killed Joel and she has not gained any new information that would lead her to change her opinion about her. And so, we have another example of the story making characters do things that are not informed by anything, for the sake of a poor payoff. And since we're talking about characters acting nonsensically, let's talk about the roughly three minutes leading up to Ellie nearly drowning Abby, shall we? Ellie approaches the beach absolutely determined to find and kill Abby (repeatedly murmuring Abby’s name to herself). Yet when she reaches the pillars, she cuts Abby down, letting her free Lev and follows them to the boats, indicating that Ellie has changed her mind, showing pity/empathy upon seeing Abby a mere shadow of her former self. And yet again, we have Ellie acting in a way she never has before. She didn’t have pity for Nora who was coughing her lungs out, or for Jordan who had advocated for letting her live, or for any other innocent WLF or Seraphite that came in between her and killing Abby. But the one person she holds a grudge against to the point of killing hundreds of innocent people without batting an eye, that is the person she is suddenly capable of feeling pity/empathy for? Is it really that surprising that Ellie's actions here feel forced, uncharacteristic, and illogical? But it actually gets worse. In an additional display of Druckmann not knowing how humans work, we have Ellie putting her backpack with all her gear in the boat, looking at her bloody hand and then remembering "Oh yeah, that's the woman who killed Joel. I almost forgot.” And at this point in my playthrough I was laughing out loud. And so, we have Ellie all of sudden determined to kill Abby again, so much so that she is willing to threaten an innocent child’s life (this by the way was the final nail in the coffin for me, they thoroughly obliterated Ellie’s character throughout the entire game, but this goes against the very core of her being). And we know the rest, they fight, Ellie nearly kills Abby but eventually lets her go. To summarize what happened in the three minutes before our big emotional payoff to our 25 hour-long journey of playing this epitome of misery porn: Ellie has 3 - count them 3!!! - changes of heart. Her motivation does a perfect 180 almost every minute. This is not how people work! That’s lazy, contrived beyond believe, and borderline comical levels of writing, because Druckmann prioritized having a final boss battle on a beach over organic, coherent, and logical storytelling (but I guess it was worth it for the goddamn visuals). However, what’s most infuriating is that there are such easy fixes if one only thinks about it for more than two minutes that could erase nearly all for the major issues I just illustrated while maintaining the plot points of the two fighting on a beach and Ellie letting Abby go. If we have Ellie walk to the beach immediately, finding Abby there untying the boat (Lev nearly passed out in the boat, Ellie not seeing him) and she then attacks Abby, immediately we have erased two of Ellie’s changes of heart, she remains consistent in her goals/motivation, not jumping back and forth between two extremes. The two women fight much like we see it in the game, and then as Ellie is about to finish it, we hear Lev calling out to Abby. And there we have our motivation for Ellie to not kill her. Not because she gets a random, convenient flashback, not because she forgives Abby (Abby has done nothing to earn Ellie’s forgiveness), not because Abby has earned her redemption, but because Ellie cannot find it in her to put an innocent child through the pain Abby has put her through. Because at the end of the day, Ellie’s hatred for Abby does not outweigh her capacity for compassion and empathy for those deserving of it (a core characteristic of hers that was established in the first game). Because Ellie would rather let an individual live that is undeserving of it than cause the same pain she was put through to an innocent child that is undeserving of it. Granted, if we were to go with this ending, we would still have to build towards it properly and therefore would have to tweak the rest of the game, mainly by showing Ellie being self-reflective, merciful towards innocents, and even doubtful about her goals at times to make her final decision informed by prior developments in order to have the character arc actually be a gradual transformation leading to a logical conclusion. I have been a writer for nearly 4 years now, which means I am in no way an expert, or the most creatively talented person around and yet I would argue that this ending would be much more satisfying to most players than the alternative we were presented with. Because as it stands, none of our actions or decisions (and yes that is something important to consider when we are working within the medium of video games), or Ellie’s for that matter, lead up to this conclusion. The conclusion to this story, the final moment, the big emotional payoff hinges on a random flashback, not on any other developments that previously occurred in the story. Subsequently rendering all of the 25 hours entirely pointless, none of it had an influence on the finale, none of it mattered narratively speaking. So, is it even a surprise that many found this to be dissatisfying? I noticed a few people who are fond of Abby accusing people feeling differently of having too much of an emotional bias or even going as far as to say they are less emotionally intelligent. This is problematic for two reasons, a) different people have different reasons for disliking Ellie’s final choice. Some still hate Abby as much as in the beginning, others feel drained and indifferent, and others still feel similarly to how I feel in that it’s mainly narratively dissatisfying. And b) the same story can have a different effect on any amount of people (otherwise, we would have settled the discussion about what the greatest movie all of time is long ago). My point being, that no matter how you feel about this particular story you are 100% justified in feeling this way, and yes that includes people that by the end of the game still hate Abby just as much as they did the moment she bashed Joel’s skull in. That does not necessarily have to be personal bias, more often than not it’s the ability to see through the storytelling techniques used, rendering them mostly ineffective for these people (and I include myself in this). I wanted Ellie to kill Abby not because I was unable to empathize with her or couldn’t see past my own personal bias, but because that would have been the logical, narratively satisfying conclusion to this specific story.

#tlou #tlou2 #the last of us #the last of us 2 #the last of us part 2 #ellie #ellie williams #joel #joel miller #abby #abby anderson #writing #storytelling #character arc #rant #themes #motivation #rewrite #I posted this before but deleted my account so here it is again

[upcycleability]

A Response to a Commenter: Corperate Capitalism

I generally just try to put out good information on things we can do to help when and if we can (because corporations are not on Tumblr reading my blog), but apparently, this brought criticism of me and my shop, so I am going to address that criticism.

The article this is about is the only one out of 121 articles written so far that has somehow gone viral. You can read it HERE

The person who mentioned this had a few things to say about me, so let's start off with this:

"Corporations are personally responsible for the majority of all industrial waste including textiles. the og post is written in a way to make you feel socially guilty and obligated to do minuscule acts to "help" (just like all the cutesy water conservation tips that blind us to the fact that corporate farms and golf courses use more water in a week than a human uses in a year)."

I 100% agree that the main issues are a result of corperations and governments. I talk a lot about how we need systemic change and how the governments are to blame in my article on overpopulation.

"Living an eco-friendly lifestyle ourselves is a good starting point, but the governments and corporations make the majority of the trash and environmental harm. Do not harm minorities because you have an ignorant misunderstanding of how the world works. Do your part, and force the people who are causing this problem: rich folk, corporations, and governments, to do theirs."

I talk about this all the time, both here on my Tumblr, but also over on Medium. I am not trying to make anyone feel guilty about their life while giving corporations an out. I am calling out corporations, while also providing nifty tips that I have learned about myself to help in what little ways that we can. We need both systemic change and social change.

Hold companies and government accountable, but also live ourselves in a way that we want to see the world. This is how I personally live my own life.

op then punctuates the post with adverts for her shops: where she'll make money off of concepts that are supposed to help mitigate needless consumption. it doesn't take into account that interstate transport has a shitty "eco footprint" too and thus shipping via Etsy or Poshmark is adding in new pollutants.

Yes, at the end of most of my posts with links to my shops where I sell secondhand and salvaged materials. I do this so that if anyone is going to buy something anyways, they can buy it in a more sustainable way.

I only sell within my own country or the one country adjacent, and I only ship using longer shipping times (no 2-day shipping if I can avoid it), and I only use the US Postal Service as they are heading to your home to deliver your mail anyhow, so it is a greener option and easier for me to implement.

I also know that all things shipped has a carbon footprint, which is why I buy carbon credits, and donate 5% of my rather low income to intersectional climate activist group 350 dot org.

And as I often state: Don't buy from me if you don't need anything. I sell used clothing, destash fabrics, salvaged materials for crafts, and upcycled products that I make. If you are going to sew anyways, buying salvaged fabric and the like is far better than buying brand new fabrics that are often made using harmful chemicals and poor labor rights.

it's remarkably clever, the monetization of "wokeness", and OPs post is a fantastic example of it.

I am a trans woman, pansexual, disabled, neurodivergent, and live in poverty. I know very well what "wokeness" is, and I doubt what I am doing is anything close to that.

i'd be amazed if they didn't take any business or advertising classes because the setup of the OG post is nearly textbook... and I do mean textbook, as in "I personally have textbooks that describe using the methodologies OP is using in the OG post to make herself money".

I did not take any business or advertising classes at all. I suck at advertising. I have been writing blogs and the like for myself for over 15 years on a variety of different topics, and that is the only way I know how to promote my business. I write about something I am fascinated in and want to learn more about myself, or else share knowledge with people who don't know what I have learned via research, and then link my upcycle shop if anyone is interested in finding some things they may need without the impact of buying new.

And I love how they make it sound like I am striking it rich. On Etsy, over the last 3 months (after fees), I made about 235$, or about 80$ a month. On Mercari over the same 3 month period, I made 66 dollars, so 22$ a month. On eBay, 90 day total is 242$, or about 80$ a month. Poshmark has my most income, at 377$ since January 1st, or almost 4 months. That is, again, about 80$ a month. So for all of my "monetization of wokeness" I make about... 250 bucks a month. And that is about half to a little more than half of my monthly income. The rest I get through what few freelance writing clients that I get in a month.

I live off 400-500 USD a month in earnings. I get by with this, and I am happy to do what I love, such as dumpster diving, disassembling clothing, and selling or reselling what I make or find. It also allows me to work from home, as someone who is a trans woman, pansexual, disabled, neurodivergent, and in poverty.

I am not trying to trick anyone, I am simply trying to survive in a Capitalist hellscape. If selling salvaged handbags and scarves made from T-shirts is my sin, then burn me at the stake.

I will be writing a new article soon about more eco-friendly craft supplies.

[kentonwrites]

“Anamnesis” - Project Update

Look, I know I only have 40 followers and like 38 of them are bots, but writing these updates is my only source of joy. If someone happens upon this, please enjoy.

My projects/writing life since 2017 have been utter chaos. I’ve started and abandoned probably over a dozen projects, had nightmarish problems in my personal life, and pretty much put writing as my last priority. For some odd reason though, returning to it now has given me a better perspective on the craft. I feel like taking a couple of years to simply live and observe and consume other media and suffer has actually strengthened my writing. 

A summary of my current projects:

1. Mispacha (Untitled): I used the placeholder title Mispacha because it’s the Hebrew term for “family,” which is what this novel revolves around. It’s about a dysfunctional family in the early 2010′s who simply live in constant disorder and end up degrading themselves. I love the characters and the plot points I have planned, but I’m only 16k words in and am not happy with what I’ve written. The dialogue feels awkward, the writing extremely sparse, etc. I want to see it through, but it’s hard to persist at it when 16k words worth of dead weight is just...hovering there on the page.

2. Blight 117 (formerly titled Potent). This was my last start-to-finish project, and the piece that I first introduced to @breefrankelwriting when we were CPs like 4 years ago. I recently reopened that document and read through a few scenes and was absolutely APPALLED at how atrocious it was (Bree I’m so sorry please forgive me), but I also feel like I’m somehow meant to tell this story and I eventually, someday, want to make it work. It was my first ever idea for a “real” novel--I’ve had the idea and characters with me since 7th grade. I feel like it’s supposed to be my magnum opus, but if I ever go back and re-attempt it, it’ll need an overhaul the likes of which have never been seen since the dawn of time. 

3. Short Story Collection: Literally last night I was just standing around and then suddenly got the inspiration to start writing short stories. I know, it’s literally so spontaneous and quirky of me. I’d attempted a few during the absolute deadzone of 2018-2020, but none of them truly worked out. Since I evidently suck at writing longer pieces (see Mispacha) I figured, maybe my strengths could be suited to a shorter medium.

So I decided to randomly draft a short story last night that played directly to my weaknesses!!!

This story is what the bulk of this update is about.

It’s called “Anamnesis” and I literally came up with the idea, wrote the first draft, and made revision notes all in a span of 5 hours last night, from 9 PM - 2 AM. It was exhilarating honestly--I hadn’t written like that in years. The first draft ended up being 5200 words (!!!) but I want to eventually buff it to around 6k since I think I majorly underwrote the final scene due to fatigue.

“Anamnesis”

TITLE: The title, “Anamnesis,” literally fits the story in so many ways I could cry. It operates on every level. All I can do is bow down to the person who created this word and thank them for its relevance to my story.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Sexual abuse, violence toward elderly

SYNOPSIS: A home health worker is assigned to an elderly woman whose memory resets each morning. He begins to take advantage of her illness, using her inability to remember the previous day in order to mistreat and abuse her. But when she is prescribed a new, promising treatment, she begins to remember more than just the abuse.  

AESTHETIC: This story has the most unpleasant aesthetic known to man. I’m talking old people, pills, mold, dust, stray cats, oatmeal, etc. I’ve been in a few hospice patient homes before and I wanted to capture just how uncomfortable and depressing it can be.

CHARACTERS:

Luna Lemin - the protagonist, an elderly woman with dementia whose memory resets every morning. Always confused. Pitiful. Sad. Dark secrets in her past??? 

Alex - the patient care technician assigned to look after Luna. An absolute piece of trash. A spectacular liar. Malicious yet curious. 

PROCESS: Like I said, this story played directly to my weaknesses. How? Because I simply cannot create compelling characters or pace a story to save my LIFE, and this story DEPENDS on the characters and the pace at which their relationship progresses. Furthermore, the setting in this is somewhat bland (literally just an old woman’s middle/lower-class house) which is a sin in terms of my writing. I thrive off of having a strong sense of setting and being able to describe specific, interesting details of that setting. In this piece I largely deprived myself of that. But it also helped me balance my flowery, poetic, overly-quirky writing style with a cohesive story and effective characters. Lately I had been putting my work on the crutch of having good writing, but it didn’t work because 1) my writing is not at a good enough level for that, and 2) sacrificing effectiveness is never a good idea. Sometimes it’s better to choose the clear, effective verb over the never-before-seen exotic one found in the depths of the Thesaurus under “archaic.”

I’m going to begin editing the story and might soon post excerpts/more updates! Though I literally wrote it in one long sprint and haven’t looked back at it since so I am PRAYING it’s not garbage. Thanks for reading!

#writing #writers on tumblr #writing update #short story #anamnesis

[mstrumpeter]

And When He Smiles I Swear I Can’t Breathe

Alan Rubin x fem!Reader

Word count: 1,548

Fandom: Blues Brothers

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Blues Brothers’ characters or movies. This refers to Alan Rubin as a character in the movie, not the real Alan (although he obvsly played himself but you know what I mean)

I’d like to add that I made everyone of the band a few years younger (so the age gap between the reader and Alan isn’t that big), so he’s approx. in his early 30s.

Sophia & Lisa are two OCs created by two lovely people within the fandom.

Warnings: swearing

Chapter 1

Charlotte took a look at her watch. Where the hell are they?! They better don’t stand me up. After all I got dressed up for their sake only. “What are you moping around already, eh?”, Sophia yelled from the driver’s seat of the car that had just pulled up in front of Charlotte. “You were supposed to pick me up 10 minutes ago!” “Calm down, how about thanking Lisa for that.”, she gave the girl in the passenger seat a nod. “Couldn’t decide what dress to wear on her third date.” “Right, would you mind setting off before someone sees us?”, Charlotte snarked as she climbed in the back of the Cadillac. “Wasn’t it clear from the outset that you’d pick a black dress?”, she rested her chin on the passenger’s seatback and smiled at Lisa. “Yeah but this one is new. It has this nice v-neckline.”, she said while looking down ate herself, slowly putting her red-brown hair to one side, brushing through it with her fingers. “Black does suit your hair colour well. I’m sure Lou’s gonna love it! … So, how long does their concert last?” “Probably about 90 minutes, plus encore of course.”, Sophia said and watched Charlotte in the rear-vision mirror dropping back into her seat. “Jeeez!” “Now that’s not fair! You’ve listened to them records and said you like ‘em!”, Sophia whined. “I do, I do! I’m just… If my parents find out I’m at some Rhythm & Blues concert they will kill me, slowly and very painfully.” “Relax girl, our little lie will work out just perfect. And besides Jake and Lou have invited us for drinks in that cozy, neighbouring bar afterwards.”

The the girls drove about another 20 minutes until they reached the “Kingston Mines”, an event location for live music on the city’s North Side. After parking the car, they went to the venue’s backdoor. “We’re with the band!”, Sophia told the security guy self-assuring, who looked down at the girls. “You don’t say, huh?.” The girl tried to push the man aside “Jake? .. Jakey? Would you give us a hand here…?” After a moment a man dressed in a black suit, black hat and dark sunglasses showed up. “Babe, what’s the problem? .. Oh yeah, it’s alright, they’re with me.”, he explained and let the girls in. “Hi handsome.” Sophia sniggered and gave her man a kiss. “Aah I’ve missed you hun, you look beautiful tonight!” And he pulled her into a deep kiss while holding her in his strong arms. When they both let off of one another to catch their breath, the dark haired girl carefully tugged at his glasses. “I wanna see your eyes.” “Later honey, when it’s just the two of-“ Charlotte cleared her throat. Both gave her an irritated look and raised one brow. Gosh, they’re so cute together. And Charlotte needed to force herself not to giggle. “I got you girls the best seats of the house.” He gave his girl a soft stroke through her hair. “I will see you later.” When the band got up on stage, taking their positions, Lisa couldn’t help it but waved at Lou excitedly and he gave her a flustered smile. Their show opener was ‘I Can’t Turn You Loose” with Jake and Elwood doing their grand entry. Charlotte had listened to a few of their records but never seen them performing live. Sure, she had met Jake and Lou before, picking up or dropping off her friends but she had never met the entire band. He let her gaze wonder from the left stage til the right, taking a good look at Steve and Murphy. Steve’s a real looker, if his hair wasn’t longer than mine. And Murph’s shirt is so tight around his muscular arms they must have sewed him into that shirt. And then the horn section caught her eye, a certain trumpet player to be precise. He had dark, slightly wavy hair, approximately her size, medium build, sideburns, he was wearing dark sunglasses like everyone else, a black leather vest and Damn those lights are way too gloomy to take a proper look at him. But his sound was brilliant. Clear and straight forward. The horn section was without any doubt the backbone of the band while making sure of that groovy sound.

Next songs coming up were “Hey Bartender” with an incredible solo on the harmonica by Elwood, “Messin With The Kid”, “I Don’t Know” and “Shot Gun Blues”. Especially Sophia liked the last two. And watching Jake perform Charlotte could really see why she did. By now it held no one. Everyone in the crowd was dancing, singing, jumping up and down and vibing along. Right after “Almost” Jake introduced the horn section to the crowd, with Tom Bones Malone on trombone, Blue Lou Marini on sax and Mr. Fabulous Alan Rubin on trumpet. Charlotte’s heart stopped for second when the spotlight panned over to him. He bowed slightly and greeted the audience with a smile. When he was playing he seemed so confident but his smile was humble and full of warmness. Of course her reaction didn’t stay unnoticed by her friends.

The rest of the concert went by real fast, much to the girl’s dislike. And Charlotte couldn’t remember the last time she had such a blasting time. After at least 3 or 4 encores the band disappeared from the stage and Sophia lead the girls to the backstage area. As soon as her eyes saw Lou, Lisa went over to him with big steps. “Hey Lou.”, she greeted him excitedly. His jaw dropped, when he looked up from his instrument case, taking in her appearance fully. His eyes lingered on her décolleté, causing him to swallow. “You look stunning tonight, darling” He grabbed his girl by the hips, pulling her close and gave her soft kiss. Her red lipstick let a stain on his lips, which she quickly swiped off using her thumb. He whispered something into her ear, causing her to giggle, before he left to help up picking up the band’s gear.

“There you are, did you enjoy the concert?”, Elwood asked, approaching the group of girls. “Of course we did! It was amazing, thanks again.”, Lisa and Sophia gave him a hug. “Oh by the way, this is our friend Charlotte.” “Hi, Elwood, nice to meet you.”, she gave him a quick wave. “Likewise, so have you met the rest of the band yet?” “Nope, didn’t got a chance so far.” “But she would love to!”, Sophia interrupted her and gave Lisa a cheeky grin. “She’s very keen on meeting Mr.Fabulous, you know.” Charlotte shot her a dirty look. “Sure, no problem.” Elwood assured. “Hey Alan, come on over, would ya?” It took the horn player a moment to realise who was calling for him but as soon as he did, he quickly walked towards the four. His gaze instantly landed on a young woman, he had never seen her before. She was about his size with curly, shoulder length, blonde hair. That’s all he was able to notice in that moment, his eyes trapped in her beautiful smile. “I’m sure you remember Jake’s and Lou’s girls… and this is their friend-” “Hi, my name’s Charlotte.” “It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Alan. Is this your first concert?” “Right, it is. These two enthused over you guys so much, I felt the need to experience you at first hand.” “And..?” “Oh it was great… really! I feel almost sorry for myself I didn’t catch any of your previous shows.” “I’m looking forward seeing you on the next concerts then , don’t disappoint me.”, he smiled. Oh that smile again. “Rubin! Stop flirting and give us a hand, would ya?”, Steve shouted. He politely excused himself and she watched him walking over to “The Colonel” and Willie, helping them to get all their equipment together. “I wasn’t flirting.”, he hissed at the guitar player, turning his head to the girls, making sure they wouldn’t be able to hear him. “Tsk, no of course not, You never are.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “C’mon, Rubin, we all know how popular you are with the ladies.” “Speakin of ladies,”, Willie put in his two pennies worth, “You’re still seeing this Lari?” “Don’t think this is any of your business.”, the trumpet replied in an irritated tone.

Charlotte turned to her friends eventually. “Would you stop embarrassing me tonight?” “I think you’re pretty good at doing that by yourself, aren’t you?” Lisa and Sophia laughed. “It was great, REALLY!”, Sophia mimicked Charlotte. “You’re usually so well-spoken and witty.” “Look, I dunno what he’s doing to me. I can’t hear myself think!-“ She suddenly stopped when Jake, Elwood, Matt, Duck and Alan joined the group, still waiting for the other guys to get ready. “Are you girls gonna join us for a nightcap?”, Matt asked curiously. “We sure are.” Lisa declared when Lou hugged her from behind, planting a soft peck on her cheek. Charlotte desperately wanted to give Mr.Fabulous a closer look but she could feel his eyes on her and didn’t want to create any awkward eye contact, so she was happy when they finally started out for that bar.

#Alan Rubin #Alan Rubin x fem!Reader #Blues Brothers #Blues Brothers fandom #Blues Brothers fanfiction #Mr. Fabulous #Elwood Blues #Jake Blues #Blue Lou Marini #Tom Bones Malone #Willie Too Big Hall #Steve Cropper #Matt Guitar Murphy #Donald Dunn

[cmtuckerly]

Books vs. Movies

I’m a major cinephile. But for the first time in 6 years, I’ve finally started reading for fun again. I’ve read 10 books in 3 weeks, and so I’ve been reflecting on how my reading experience as an adult compares to that of when I was a teenager

1. I don’t know if it’s just me, or if it’s a widely known phenomenon, but I noticed that since I started reading again, I dream more vividly. I have more complex, layered, and bizarre dreams. I have dreams that stick with me throughout the day after I wake up when I’d normally just forget about them. I don’t dream like this after spending 5 hours watching movies or binding a drama, but reading for 5 hours before bed seems to put me in a different head space. 

2. Reading is private. I’ll have created a whole world and cast of characters in my head, with no proof of them having existed outside of my mind. 

3. I think it’s for that same reason that I’m not able to remember books as well as I remember movies. I was going through some of my old book reviews on goodreads, and I was shocked to see that I don’t have any memory of some of the books I reviewed. The fact that I had taken the time to put thoughts into words for those books means that those books had meant something to me during that time and yet, the titles and characters were no longer familiar at all, and so it’s weird to be confronted with holes in my memory and being at a loss for how to restore those holes. I guess it’s hard to remember something that never truly existed outside our minds.

4. Reading is intimate. When I read, I can see Elizabeth Bennett while also being Elizabeth Bennett. But when I watch a movie, I see Keira Knightley playing Elizabeth Bennett. It’s one step removed (i.e., diegesis vs. mimesis).

I also don’t feel like I have to look over my shoulder, or be afraid that someone is going to burst into my room and catch me watching something racy and scandalous. The images are hidden in the words and pages. 

4.1. Reading makes me forget about myself. I become the characters and I emerge from the books in a daze. I forget where I end and where the characters begin. When watching movies, I’m very aware of who I am and how I measure up to the actors on the screen. 

There are also 2 types of reading experiences: 1) You’re starting a book and it feels like you’re counting the grains of sand in a mountain. Audiobooks help. They count the grains of sand out loud for you. 2) The other type of reading experience is when you’re 4 books deep into a series and you wish there was some way to make yourself to read faster to get to the end, to find out what happens. But no matter how fast you push yourself to read, it feels like you’ore pushing against a thick, viscous membrane, like you’re trying to find your way out of a birth canal. It feels like you’re running a dream, slow and laborious. 

5. I follow about 10 people on letterboxd and 4 people on goodreads. Whenever I want to figure out whether a movie is worth my time, I just check the reviews from the 10 people I follow and I usually get a pretty good idea of whether I’ll go through with the movie or not. There’s a clear consensus. But with goodreads, I’m only following 4 people with similar tastes as mine, and yet every time I go to check the reviews for a book I’m considering, it’s always a 50/50 split. Two of them gave the book 1-2 stars, while the other two have added the book to their favourites shelf. There is no way for me to judge whether or not I’ll like the book until I actually read it for myself. 

5.1. It’s really hard to summarize the essence of a book. You really have to experience the book yourself, unlike movies that can be condensed into an enticing enough trailer (granted, not all trailers do a good job of raising excitement and some just ruin the movie by spoiling it). 

5.2. It’s cliche to say, but everyone has a different experience reading the same story. Sometimes the tall, dark stranger works in one novel, but not the next. Maybe books are harder to predict than movies (in terms of enjoyment and entertainment value). 

6. Control. I can control the speed at which I consume a book. I can plow through a 200-page book in a night if it interests me enough, or I can read it over 2 days, a week, a month, or even a year. I can hold the book/ebook in my hands and will myself to go faster. It feels like there’s more agency when reading a book, from how your construct the characters in your mind, to how you pace yourself. 

7. An obvious comparison is that of length. Books are definitely longer because 1) there are usually more scenes and 2) the scenes are more drawn out and filled with descriptions of what the characters are thinking and feeling. BUT, what I think that films do that books arguably don’t do as effectively, is use setting and movement to paint a story. I think of noir films from the 1940s like Casablanca where Rick is often cast in half light and half shadow to reflect his inner conflict that he has in having to choose between the woman he loves and his duty to his country. I think of the 2019 Chinese film Better Days where Zhou Dongyu and Jackson Yee have an entire silent conversation with their eyes as they’re crying and watching each other through the prison window. I think about Wong Kar Wai’s In the Mood for Love where Tony Leung and Maggie Cheung’s characters pass each other silently in the narrow stairwell of their apartment building, an intimate, claustrophobic, but contact-less interaction that symbolizes longing and loneliness. 

Final Remarks: Debating which medium is better is a moot point because they each do different things, but I think it’s valuable and quite poetic to consider how each medium affects us differently. I’ve been away from books so long that when I started reading again, the difference in my dreams was obvious. I think one way to test this would be to stop reading for a while and then read again, but I’m also afraid that if I stop reading long enough, I won’t be able to get back into and that I’ll fall into another disinterested rut that might last another 6 years. I want to hold onto this momentum that I have. It reminds me of high school. It makes me feel young again. 

#books vs movies #books vs films #books #bookblr #goodreads #writers on tumblr #spilled ink #opinion #film adaptations #hp #harry potter #hunger games #jane austen #pride and prejudice #comparison #confessions #dreams #storytelling #reading #dark academia #literature #tumblarians #bookworm #books and literature #classics #gradblr #relatable #bibliophile #bookish #litblr

[maybankiara]

I HAVE COME TO SAVE THE DAY

pairing: JJ Maybank x Kiara Carrera

summary: JJ is a postman and Kiara is his favourite receptionist (alternatively, 4 times Kiara didn’t know JJ’s name and the one time she did).

w/c: 5k

a/n: i posted this on ao3 back for jiara week and totally forgot to post it on tumblr, too, so here’s a belated jiara fic, a short ‘lil enemies to lovers trope for y’all!!

masterlist | tag list

read on archive of our own

1: J.

‘Carrera Law Firm, how may I help you?’

  The guy standing in front of Kiara in a postman’s uniform gives her a glance that’s part-question part-disbelief, and then points at the device in his hand. ‘Delivery for Anna Carrera.’

  ‘Oh. Okay.’

  Blood rushes to Kiara’s cheeks as she clicks the button on the desk telephone, reaching her mother within seconds. 

  ‘Just sign it in,’ says her mother. 

  ‘Okay.’

  She hangs up and looks at the guy, extending a hand. ‘I’ll sign it.’

  He gives her a slight eyebrow raise and she may or may not see a hint of wickedness in the tight corner of his smile as she takes the device from him. She’s quick to sign it, with a shaky hand, and give it back to him. 

  ‘You’re new here.’

  Kiara nods, says: ‘Yeah, it's my first day’, even though it was a statement, not a question. 

  He stares at her for a hot second with the same expression, and Kiara expects him to ask something else, make it a conversation—it seemed like a conversation starter—but he doesn’t even acknowledge her answer. 

  ‘Where do I put this?’

  There’s a slight thud and she leans across her desk, seeing a medium-sized box with his black combat boot right next to it. 

  Her lips purse as she realises what he’d done, and decides she dislikes him. 

  All she wants to do is tell him off, that could be fragile, but she’s new and he seems cocky and reeks of trouble enough to make her bite her tongue. 

  So all she actually does is lean back into her chair and nod towards the wall to her side. ‘Just leave it there.’

  He does so without a question, and on the way out, gives her a two-finger salute. 

  Kiara checks the paper slip he left on her desk, finding his name with ease: J. Maybank. She thinks of his short but shaggy blonde hair, rugged and self-satisfied appearance that oozed confidence, and yeah, he looked like a boy whose name begins with J.

  It’s not the most awkward conversation/situation she has that day, but it’s the most memorable one, mostly because she can't get his smirk out of her head for more reasons than just one (and far too many of them she’d never admit). 

  She decides she hates him, anyway.

2: JOHN

The next time he comes, it’s Friday and Kiara’s got the hang of it, so she wags a finger at him to tell him to wait as she picks up the ringing phone. 

  ‘Carrera Law Firm.’ 

  She talks with the customer—a lovely lady, has the misfortune of living next to a new construction site—for a little bit, laughter falling from her lips. It’s Friday already and she’s gotten better at this, more confident, and making J. Maybank wait on her is worth it. 

  (It’s not a personal vendetta, per se – more of karma, really.)

  She watches him shift weight from one leg to another, hands resting in his pocket. He’s got a slouch to him, the ease in his shoulders making him seem as if anything he wishes for, the world gives him. Kiara’s friend Sarah calls boys who stood like that suave, but Kiara calls it arrogance. 

  The same half-smile with the same dose of wickedness in its curve is mocking her when she bids farewell to the lady on the phone. Her back is resting against the chair and a pen slides across the paper, before she actually looks at him. 

  ‘Delivery?’

  J. Maybank reaches into the side of his backpack and takes out a handful of letters, placing them on the desk. 

  Kiara frowns, because he’s still standing there. ‘Do I need to sign those?’

  ‘Nope.’

  He doesn’t budge and neither does his smile. 

  She collects the mail and goes through it, separating them in piles for each of her mother's employees. It takes her a couple of seconds, but J. Maybank’s gaze on her burns on her cheeks and makes it last a whole eternity. 

  Her glance at him comes in pair with a single raised eyebrow. ‘Can I help you?’

  J. Maybank puts his fingers on the desk, tapping one of them. ‘I can leave a message with you, right?’

  ‘Yeah, sure.’

  ‘Okay’'

  He nods. Kiara notes his fingers are shaky as he reaches into his pocket, taking out a pen and a piece of paper, even though there’s a bunch of both already on her desk for this exact purpose. 

  He scribbles down a note and folds the paper in half, hiding the text. He slides the note towards her, fingers still shaky. It’s a far cry from the overconfident, cocky person he was a mere minute ago. 

  ‘I looked up on the internet and it said that you offer free consultations, right?’

  Kiara nods. ‘Mostly, yeah. Depends on what you need.’

  ‘Family law,’ he elaborates. 

  ‘Then a consultation is free. It’s Mrs Viola Glisson’s department.’ Kiara puts her finger on the note and she wants to open it, to see what he’d written. Instead, she swallows dryly. ‘Do you want me to give this to her?’

  He nods. ‘That’d be great.’

  No thanks comes her way, only a smile that is innocent for less than it takes her to blink. He gives her the same two-finger salute and is back to the cocky J. Maybank in moments, and Kiara hates to admit that she can’t take her eyes off of him as he walks through the glass door. His uniform doesn’t fit the aesthetic of the building, nor Kiara’s smart black trousers and a red t-shirt with a propper-up collar and a zipper on the cleavage, but he doesn’t look out of place. 

  As soon as he’s out of sight, Kiara’s fingers take the paper note, ready to give it to Viola, a woman who grew up with her mother and Kiara dated her son James back in middle school. She’s planning to give it to Viola immediately, no wicked intentions, but J. Maybank’s face pops up in her mind, complete with the self-confident smirk. She gives in with a sigh, thinking that he deserves her snooping for the way he’s been acting. 

  To her disappointment, the writing is just a phone number with John Maybank written underneath it. 

  She hands it to Viola with a sigh, offering no information to go with it. Viola reads the note and a knowing look spreads over her features. ‘Maybank, the postman, right?’

  Kiara nods. 

  ‘He’s about your and James’ age, no?’

  ‘I guess.’ Her face flashes before her eyes and she places him in her school corridors with ease. She knows he doesn’t go to the Cooke Academy because a face with demeanour like his would stand out. 

  ‘He’s a good kid, Maybank. Mowed our lawn a fair amount,’ Viola muses to herself. Her fingers flip through a stack of papers and she writes something down, looking up at Kiara. ‘Did he say what he needed?’

  ‘Just a consultation with Familial.’

  ‘Hm? That’s interesting, might be about his father... Can you bring me a cup of coffee on your way out? You make the best coffee I’ve had in years!’

  Kiara knows when she’s being dismissed, so she does as Viola asked of her. Her mind buzzes with the newfound information about J.—John—Maybank. 

  He’s a mystery, and stays in her mind longer than she’d like, again. 

  3: JOHN J.

‘Mrs Grubbs, I can’t give away our employee’s private information.’

  ‘It’s just a phone number,’ repeats Mrs Lana Grubbs in exasperation. ‘It’s not private.’

  ‘A personal phone number is private information. I don’t have the right—’

  ‘Fine, I’ll just do it myself.’

  The short woman with greying brown hair pulled into an elaborate bun walks past Kiara's desk with complete disregard of any manners whatsoever, and is already halfway through the main hallway when Kiara comes up in front of her. 

  The young Carrera puts her hands between her and the woman, lips pressed tight. ‘Mrs Grubbs, you can’t walk in here unannounced.’

  ‘Announce me, then.’

  ‘You need to have an appointment,’ elaborates Kiara. She feels herself close to seething; there are firm rules set in stone when it comes to culture, and the woman before her seems to have completely missed them. ‘I can arrange you an appointment.’

  Mrs Grubbs scoffs. Her perfectly defined eyebrows shoot up, and her lips purse as she raises her chin. ‘I need an appointment now, young lady.’

  ‘My mother is in the middle of a meeting, and is busy until the end of her shift.’

  ‘She is not that busy. Push me in after this meeting.’

  Kiara sighs. Even if she pushed her in, she knew her mother wouldn’t give her time of the day with that attitude. ‘With all due respect—’

  ‘Ms Lana!’

  The two women avert their attention to Kiara’s reception desk, where a fair-haired boy in a postman’s uniform is standing with a small box in his hands and a grin on his face. He waves at them, but he’s looking at Mrs Grubbs. 

  ‘Hey, Ms Lana. How you been?’

  Mrs Grubbs’ demeanour changes in an instant – Kiara watches her go from a ruthless witch to a friendly lady from the neighbourhood. She approaches John Maybank and squeezes his cheeks with, asking about school, his friends, and whatnot. 

  Kiara takes the opportunity to go back behind her desk, eyeing the exchange suspiciously. Before she knows it, John is hugging Mrs Grubbs and she turns to the girl with a disappointed smile on her face. 

  ‘I will arrange an appointment elsewhere,’ she states, as if Kiara is supposed to give a damn. ‘Your services are subpar.’

  at least we don’t need to deal with entitled, mannerless assholes like you, crosses Kiara’s mind, but the only thing noticeable is the smile on her face. ‘In that case, I hope you find services that match your demands.’

  What she gets in return is a distasteful eye roll paired with an over-dramatic huff. Mrs Grubbs turns on her heel and walks out of the door without so much as a goodbye. 

  At last, Kiara takes a deep breath and shifts her gaze to the postman in front of her desk. 

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ he tells her with the smirk she’s gotten used to in the past two weeks. ‘Ms Lana is a bitch to everyone.’

  ‘Not you,’ sighs Kiara. 

  ‘No, that’s because everyone likes me.’

  She raises her eyebrows at him—she seems to be doing that a lot when he’s around—and just opens her hand. ‘What you got?’

  ‘Delivery for Mrs Viola Glisson.’ He hands her a paper slip and the device to sign, which she does. ‘So you don’t agree that everyone likes me?’

  ‘I don’t.’

  ‘Ouch.’ John places a hand over where his heart is supposed to be (a little too far to the left) and grimaces. ‘That hurts my feelings.’

  Kiara gives the device back to him, walking around the desk to pick up the box and put it on it. She knows he’s staring at her cleavage (not very exposed, but noticeable when she bends over) and wonders if he left it there on purpose. 

  When she sits back in her chair, he’s still there, fingers tapping against her desk.

  ‘Look, thanks for your help with Mrs Grubbs,’ she says, because a) she’s not a fool and she can tell what he did, and b) she can swallow her pride for one second. 

  ‘Does that make me your prince?’

  ‘You didn’t come on the white horse or in your shining armour.’

  ‘My uniform’s kinda shiny,’ he says, tugging at the short sleeves that have the reflective tape on it that is a must-have for Kildare. ‘And my bike is white.’

  Kiara laughs. ‘Your bicycle?’

  ‘My motorbike.’

  He says it slowly, with the “e” stretching into a knowing smile, and Kiara hates that he knows exactly what he’s doing, and hates even more that it’s working. 

  Thing is – by now, Kiara is half-certain that the majority of the reason why his presence irks her is because she’s attracted to it, and Kiara Carrera hates being attracted to people who are cocky and self-serving. He looks like he could be a good night’s fun, with his cheeky grin and eyes that remind her of waves she sometimes surfs on, and he reeks of trouble, still. This used to be her type – tall, blonde, with a streak for illegal activities, but Kiara said to herself that she isn’t fifteen anymore. She hasn’t been fifteen in two years, come two weeks. She’s past that childish behaviour. 

  ‘I don’t need a knight in shining armour, pal,’ she states, shutting down her thoughts before they progressed even further. I need a postman.’

  ‘We could be friends,’ he says. ‘Why not, huh?’

  ‘Do you always chat with receptionists for longer than it’s appropriate?’

  ‘Only cute ones.’

  Kiara can’t contain her laugh this time, and it echoes in the room full of marble. John is smiling at her, and she thinks that the wickedness in the crook of his smile is just playfulness, instead. Teasing, too, and maybe just the slight hint of a daredevil. 

  She leans her elbows on the desk, intertwines her fingers, and rests her chin on her hands. ‘I don’t even know your name.’

  He cocks his head to the side as if he knows she’s lying and, based on the way he seems (perceptive, in any case – he’s very good at finding out what makes her tick), he knows that she is. 

  The blond extends her a hand and she takes it. ‘John J. Maybank.’

  ‘Kiara Carrera.’ His grip is firm but so is hers, and they have a little staredown. ‘Adding in a “J.” to make yourself seem fancy?’

  (She pretends her hand isn’t cold once his is away; she pretends she doesn’t feel the blood coursing through her veins, or the knots in her stomach when his eyes fall to her lips.)

  John J. Maybank laughs with his whole chest, arms crossed on it. ‘Fancy is the last word anyone would use to describe me.’

  Her eyes travel up and down his body, and she tries not to linger on his biceps, accentuated by his pose, or the way his uniform sits just right on his body. 

  Instead, she grins. ‘I can tell.’

  He taps his fingers against her desk, and her eyes catch a pair of rings she didn’t notice before. ‘Anyway, we're friends now.'

  ‘Do I want to be friends with you?’

  John J. Maybank is already halfway out of the building when he turns to her, walking backwards, and shrugs with his arms outstretched. ‘I don’t think you have a choice.’

  He’s right – she doesn’t. 

  She thinks he’d be surprised if he knew just how little choice she has when it comes to him.

  4: JOHNNY JAY

John J. Maybank catches her as she’s walking out of the small—hers only—bathroom next to her desk. 

  ‘Hey, friend.’

  Kiara still rolls her eyes at the greeting. There’s something off about him, only she doesn’t notice what it is until she's sat down at her desk – he’s wearing a basketball top and short cargo pants, paired with the usual combat boots. 

  Kiara certainly didn’t expect to find out that the uniform actually hides quite a good bit of his body that is, objectively (and not in the way of Kiara objecting), quite pleasant to look at.

  He catches her looking. ‘I’m here for an appointment with Mrs Glisson.’

  ‘Now?’

  John J. Maybank glances at the clock to his right, above the bathroom door. ‘In ten minutes.’

  ‘Give me a second.’

  Her mind buzzes as fast as her fingers flip through the book of visitors. She recalls him asking for a consultation with Viola about two weeks ago, distinctly remembering Viola saying something about his father possibly being the reason. Her fingers land on the last time someone came for Viola. 

  ‘Sorry, she’s still in a meeting.’

  ‘Thanks. It’s okay, I’m not in a rush,’ he says, taking a seat in the waiting area, a few feet from Kiara’s desk. He throws one hand on the back of the seat next to him, ankle over a knee, and grins. ‘Besides, I don’t mind the company.’

  ‘I’m busy,’ retorts Kiara. 

  ‘When’s the last time you had fun?’

  ‘How long ago did you come here?’

  ‘Damn, dude. You still don’t like me?’

  ‘Nope.’

  They both know it's a lie. 

  In the past two weeks, he’s been here about five times, and every single one of those, he stayed behind to chat a little bit. Kiara didn’t mind – she liked having someone to talk to, especially someone who was her age. 

  (Well – not anymore, as of today.)

  ‘You should come to the Boneyard,’ he says. ‘And before you say you don’t want to—I see you—I’ll just let you know that I know you do, because I’ve seen you there, with Sarah Cameron and the kooks.’

  At this, Kiara leans back in her chair, crossing her ankles underneath her desk. ‘Don’t recall the Kooks playing at a Boneyard party. I think they tend to have proper concerts, instead.’

  ‘So what, you’re gonna say going to Boneyard parties isn’t your bad habit?’

  A smile spreads over her lips, heated underneath his gaze. She likes that he caught her reference – she likes that maybe they have the same taste in music. She likes the idea of them dancing to it, at a Boneyard party, red solo cups in hand. 

  ‘Relax, Johnny Jay.’ He raises an eyebrow at the name, but doesn’t interrupt her. ‘Boneyard parties aren’t really my scene anymore.’

  John J. Maybank stares at her with the same knowing look. She catches the glimmer in her eye that tells her she's not fooling him, and she sees the intent in the curve of his Cupid’s bow. 

  He flashes a set of white teeth and a pair of dimples. ‘Bring Sarah Cameron and the kooks. It might be a pogue party, but it’ll be a proper party.’

  Kiara’s smile is soft, and her cheeks are heating up again underneath the sharpness of his gaze. ‘What will they say when I find out I’m friends with a pogue?’

  ‘You care about that?’

  ‘No,’ she admits, ‘but I thought you might.’

  ‘Nah, dude. My friends already know about us.’

  ‘There’s no us.’

  ‘There could be.’

  He gives her an award winning smile, one that must’ve given him the aura of someone good for a night's worth of fun. (She hates that it’s drawing her in the way he is, making her want to say yes when she told herself she’d be more responsible her last year before leaving for college.)

  Kiara just sighs, going back to what she was doing before she took a bathroom break – doodling on a paper they used for testing the new printer (the one only Kiara seems to understand, which makes her useful, and the situation annoying). 

  John J. Maybank walks over to her, fingers on the desk. It irks her when he does it, so he does it as often as possible. 

  She looks up at him and for once, there is not a hint of anything wicked.

  ‘Come on, Kiara. Next summer, you’ll be getting ready for college, and you’ll be too busy to enjoy yourself. Then you’re gonna leave for college and you won’t look back, and that’ll be the best years of your life wasted. Besides,’—he taps against her hand and she slaps his—‘I won’t be there anymore.’

  He tries touching her hand again, and she slaps it all the same. ‘Why does that matter?’

  ‘‘Cause I’m the best thing Kildare has to offer.’

  as if.

  Kiara is about to snap back with something—he hasn’t figured out what—when Rafe Cameron walks past the two of them, giving her a court nod. She pushes John J. Maybank’s hand off the wood, pretending her hands don’t burn where skin touches skin. ‘That’s your cue.’

  He nods, and she notices the smile fell off his face while she watched her best friend’s brother walk out. His blue eyes are glazed, and his lips are trembling so Kiara pokes his hand with the top end of her pen. 

  ‘You’ll be fine, Johnny Jay.’

  ‘Yeah.’ He nods to her, or himself, and taps once against the desk. ‘See you later, I guess.’

  Kiara gives him what she hopes to be a reassuring smile. 

  John J. Maybank leaves, and she listens to the familiar thuds of his boots until she hears Viola's door open, and he walks in. What they’re doing isn’t her business, regardless of how badly she wants to know. Rafe Cameron’s here because he’s dealing with some bullshit his dad’s putting him through, and the only reason she knows any of that is because Sarah told her. Kiara is practically family to the two, even if she isn’t the biggest fan of the boy. 

  Johnny Jay, on the other hand, is someone she struggles to even consider a friend, since they’ve never met outside the confines of these four walls. They read each other well, bounce off of one another like a pair of old friends, and they’ve got a lot more in common than she would’ve ever thought. 

  They’re not friends in the traditional way, but they’re friends enough. 

  The telephone on the desk buzzes with the word VIOLA in place of caller ID. Kiara answers. 

  ‘Kiara, sweetheart, can you please print for me the documents I sent you?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Thank you, darling.’

  Printing is actually much simpler than any of them realise. Kiara doesn’t even open the documents before sending them to the printer, clicking a few buttons that are just settings for how the page will come out (and most of them she doesn’t even need to touch). The printer is in the building’s library on the first floor, and the room smells of old books and freshly printed papers. 

  There’s a difference between snooping into a note he left for Viola and looking over the documents that she is currently taking out of the printer – she can’t not see what is written on them when she has to check that the printer hasn’t gone out of ink. 

  It’s only a glance at each of the pages, but it’s enough for her to see EMANCIPATION FORM and RESTRAINING ORDER FORM written at the headers of each of the two sets to clock onto what’s happening.

  The only thought in her head is: shit.

  She wasn’t meant to see that. 

  Kiara’s hands produce a shaky knock against the wooden door, and it’s Viola’s raspy smoker-voice that invites her in. She’s still feeling a little bit sick in the stomach when she enters, papers in hand. 

  ‘Thank you, Kiara,’ says Viola, a thoughtful expression on her face.

  ‘No problem.’

  Her voice is feeble, filling out every inch of space not occupied by something, or someone. She’s halfway out the door before Viola even gets to dismiss her, and she glances at Maybank on the way – he’s pale, face sickened with something she doesn’t recognise, but his eyes are weary in a way no sixteen-year-old’s should be. 

  He doesn’t seem angry – it’s Kiara’s last thought before the door shuts, and she can’t see him anymore. 

  Time passes as she waits for the meeting to be over. The fair-haired boy is all she can think about; she shouldn’t ask questions but there are many in her head, and her doodles can’t distract her anymore. When customers call, she doesn’t chat to them, and no people walk in to divert her attention. 

  He walks out about quarter of an hour later, a bittersweet edge to the eyebrows looming over his eyes, a stack of paper in tow.

  ‘Hey, friend.’

  A finger taps against the desk, next to a doodle that looks an awful lot like him. She moves her arm and rests her elbow on it. 

  ‘Hey,’ she says back. ‘Did it go well?’

  ‘Well.’ A sour smile. ‘I’m not sure getting a restraining order against the same old man you’re trying to get emancipated from could ever go well.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ offers Kiara, and it's genuine. 

  To John J. Maybank’s credit, he gives her a court nod and a smile that seems a little less like it’s saying i am doing something that could go terribly right or terribly wrong.

  ‘Come to the Boneyard on Saturday. Bring Sarah and everybody. It’ll be fun.’

  ‘I’ll think about it.’

  He must know her well enough to be able to tell this is as close to a yes as anyone will ever get from her, because the smile his cheeks stretch into is the one with dimples, and a fancy for trouble.

  She knows him well enough to be able to tell that what she found out stays between them. 

  (Kiara wonders when strangers turned into friends turned into people who understand each other without having to say anything.)

  ‘Oh and, uh,’ he calls back from the main door, ‘happy birthday!’

  He doesn’t stick around long enough to hear her thanks, but he sticks around many other times.

  + 1: JJ

Flowers. 

  ‘Those better not be for me,’ muses Kiara from her desk. ‘I don’t like orchids.’

  JJ walks in with a bouquet of flowers and his postman uniform, all accompanied by a wide, cheerful grin on his face. He’s got a spring to his step and he swings himself around the desk, planting a kiss to Kiara’s cheek. 

  Her hands loop around his waist. With the flowers now on her papers, Kiara feels as if she walked into the Camerons’ backyard. 

  ‘It’s not for you,’ says JJ, wrapping a curl around his finger. ‘For Mrs Glisson.’

  ‘What’s the occasion?’

  Kiara’s—well, whatever they are to one another—hesitates for a second, but she thinks it’s more for dramatic effect than actual hesitation. 

  His finger taps her cheek, warm and rough at the tip. ‘I’m moving into the Chateau today. Officially.’

  ‘Have the forms gone through?’

  He nods, and Kiara flings her around his neck, pulling him into a full kiss. It shifts into a hug, and she feels him relax into her. ‘I can breathe now.’

  ‘I can only imagine.’ She pulls back, smiling as wide as he is. ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Shocked. Terrified. Excited. Ambi-feelous.’

  ‘That’s not a word.’

  ‘God, you’re starting to sound like Pope. I never should’ve introduced you.’

  ‘It was inevitable,’ Kiara says. 

  They both know it, so JJ just runs a finger alongside her jaw, and his lips briefly touch hers. He’s gone after that and so are the flowers (Kiara is genuinely glad they weren’t for her). Viola isn’t in a meeting right now so it’s fair game, and about two minutes in, she’s pretty sure she can hear the woman crying/yelling (when it comes to Viola, those sounds are way too similar). It’s a big deal for everybody – the whole firm took him under their wing once they found out about the horrors of living under the Maybank roof, enough that they decided to do the case pro bono. 

  (JJ doesn’t like pity, so he made sure to help out in any way they can, from running errands while doing her postman job or being their personal mechanic during his free time.)

  When he comes back, he’s all smiles, lips stretched out wider than Kiara thought it possible. 

  ‘I’m picking up post today,’ he says, walking over to the box with mail thrown into it. ‘Busy day.’

  ‘How busy?’ 

  ‘Busy.’

  ‘Could you spare ten minutes?’ asks Kiara, stepping away from her desk. He can see her in her full glory now – she’s pretty sure he has a thing for secretaries and their lookalikes, and she’s been putting in extra effort the past few days. ‘I think a pipe went off in my bathroom, or something. Since you said you’d help out with maintenance…’

  JJ checks the clock above the bathroom, then shrugs, facing away from the camera to give her a coy grin. ‘I guess ten minutes won’t hurt.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She starts walking over to the bathroom, JJ at her heel. ‘I’ve been dying to get this fixed for days.’

  ‘Mhm. I can imagine. It must’ve been awful.’

  ‘Truly terrible.’

  The moment they’re behind the closed door of Kiara’s bathroom, she’s pressed against the cold wall, JJ’s body hot in front of her. His lips are all over her neck and her hands making a mess out of his hair, while his are busy tugging her shirt out of her trousers and sliding underneath the fabric, pulling lines on the bare skin. 

  Instinctively, Kiara’s hips buckle against his as she arches her back and tilts her neck, exposing more skin for him to brush his lips over. She feels the bugle, and lets out a hearty laugh. 

  JJ stops kissing her, just enough to give her a glare with a frown. ‘I can see how terrible it’s been if you have time to laugh at me.’

  ‘Shut up,’ Kiara says, tugging at his collar to pull him closer. ‘We’ve got to be quiet.’

  His hands travel downwards until they’re in her trousers, cupping her ass, and Kiara buckles against him again. She pulls him closer until they’re chest to chest, and she kisses the spot right below his ear, feeling him moan against her, his hands gripping her tighter. The thrill of being caught is making both their hearts race, and Kiara can think of very few things hotter than this moment.

  ‘Quiet is the last thing you’re going to be, Kie,’ he threatens.

  She’s up on the sink within a heartbeat, and he tugs her trousers down with more ease than she’d think possible. 

  There’s a mirror on both sides of the wall, in front of her and behind her; she sees the grin on her lips, with self-assurance and a hint of wickedness to it, watching JJ press kisses up her tight that leave marks no one but her will be able to see. 

  Her hands are tugging on his hair, pulling him closer to her. ‘Ten minutes,’ she reminds him. ‘Make ‘em count.’

  All JJ does is bury his head between her legs, and she starts to think that this bathroom had never been meant for anything other than this.

  ★

tagging. @jjmaybanky​​ @chasefreakinstokes​​ @drewstarkey​​ @thatsme-johnbookerroutledge​​ @outrbank​​ @juneyxx @drewstarkeyobx​​ @ilovejjmaybank​​​ @teamnick​​​ @jjmaybanksbaby​​​ @mahleeyuh​​​ @nicolewithasoul​​ @kiarawilliams127​​ @starlightstarkey​​ @anonymous0writer​​ @outerbongs​​ @warnettc​​ @jjandreidsgirl @jjmaybanqs @sofiesshitshow @kaitieskidmore1 @maybanksbaby @abbiesthings @tempestuousjj @coconutroseowl @queenofthepouges

#jiara #jiara fic #jiara fanfic #outer banks #obx #outer banks fanfiction #obx fic #jj maybank #kiara carrera #jj maybank x kiara carrera #jj x kiara #jiara au #my fic #f: obx #s: jiara

[themenagerie]

LF Undertale RP (Plots and Stories)

Hello! I’ve entered the Undertale fandom about five years late and have a mighty need to do some roleplay in that particular universe and a number of the related AUs. I am looking for individuals who are 18+, who are comfortable with mature as well as darker themes (violence, sex/sexuality, psychological elements, racism, etc.) and who are comfortable with canon characters and OCs in an RP setting.

I am looking to do 1x1 with myself and the other person taking on the roles of multiple canon characters (cross fandom friendly!) and OCs (OCs aren’t required but I like giving people the option for it) with the other person at least being able to play Sans the Skeleton (canon and most AUs accepted) and/or Underswap Papyrus. Yes, I’m willing to double up :)

Below is further details including AUs I’m interested in dabbling in, plot/storyline ideas, information about myself, characters I’m interested in playing, and other need-to-know’s since I’m still coding my blog! The best way to reach me if any of this is of interest to you is to boop me either in DMs here or over on discord! ---> Lilacs#8103

About Myself! I’m a 25+ year old woman who has been RPing for a little over 20 years! I do a lot of RP between discord and MMOs and met my husband over an MMO about 7 years ago! We’ve been married for over 2 of those years :D I love world building, reading, cooking, and harassing my cats. Below are some writing samples! Larger ‘World Building’ Style Post || More Average Sized Post || My Stories on Ao3!

What I Can Provide! - Active Posting: I only work a few days a week so I’m around a lot and this is RP I’ve been craving for weeks so it would have a lot of my attention! I’m AZ so my timezone fluctuates a bit but I’m typically active between 11AM-1AM PST (give or take a few hours depending on the day of the week). - An Extensive Roleplay and Storytelling Background: I’ve ran RP groups and guilds across mediums and games from plots that involve over a dozen people to cozier one-on-one dynamics. Some places I’ve done RP is Discord, City of Heroes, World of Warcraft, MSN Groups, MSN Messenger, Guild Wars 2, Final Fantasy 14, forums, and many others! - Memes, Shitposting, and More: I love to chillax inbetween writing. I will absolutely drown you in headcanons, drabbles, musical inspiration, and whatever else! You scream I scream we all scream for skeletons. - Literate Responses: I typically do 3-6+ paragraphs a post depending on the scene and circumstances. Especially for the kind of RP I have in mind where we’d basically be fleshing out a world between ourselves that will often have cameos from other characters as need be. - A Love of Every Theme, Like, Ever: I have written just about every theme/genre out there and there’s very little I won’t indulge in either for my sake or my writing partner’s. From the fluffiest of fluff to casual slice of life to gruesome horror and crazy adventures. I typically blend a little of everything into what I do and have a habit of putting characters through their paces before giving them a reprieve only to do it all over again.  LGBT+ Friendly: I’m a pansexual polyamorous woman who loves everyone and everything that has ever existed.

What I’m Looking For! - At Least a Post a Day!: I’m looking for someone who is able to be active on a similar level as I am. Ideally an individual who can post multiple times a day but I’ll settle for once a day since RL happens. I’m currently doing a Mafiafell plot with a friend and as lovely as it’s been they only post every few days or so and I’m itching for something more active! - 3-6+ Paragraphs on Average: I don’t expect novels and quite frankly I tend to lean closer to 2-4 paragraphs on average myself! But I’m not interested in someone who can only do a few lines at a time, either. - Someone With a Love of World and Story Building!: I love those with creative, active imaginations. A number of these plots will involve having to flesh out particulars together and I don’t want to be doing all the work while someone goes ‘idk’ in a corner. I want us both to love what we’re writing together and to pour a little of ourselves into it :) - Openness to RPing Mature Themes: I tend to incorporate a lot of mature subject matter into my writing. Smut, gore, substance abuse, elements of anxiety/depression, violence and more aren’t strangers in my stories. I find that opening a story to such realistic elements adds a richness to what can be written. Of course I’m happy to abide by the comfort levels of another and to be respectful of triggers/limits, but if you’re easily squeamish then writing with me probably isn’t the best thing for you! - Acceptance of AUs/Multiverse: There’s a chance of Wibbly Wobbly Timey Wimey things to happen in most of these plots and an open mind to such is super appreciated! A number of these plots may also deviate from canon and enter into more AU territory depending on how we progress certain things. - OC and Canon Friendly: I like to use both canon characters and OCs in most of my RPs and plots. I know some prefer one or the other and preferably those interested are fine with both.

The Characters and AUs! Below are characters I’m interested in playing as well as what I’m interested in seeing being played. As I mentioned above the only real hard request I have is the other person involved is able to play a Sans and/or Underswap Papyrus. Interested in Playing: Both adult and child versions of Frisk (depending on the RP/AU), Papyrus, some Sans’, Undyne, Alphys, Toriel, Mettaton, OCs Interested in Seeing Played: Sans, Papyrus, Grillby, Asgore, OCs, and pretty much any other characters you’re comfortable playing! As stated at the top, I’m also cross-fandom friendly! AUs I’m Interested In: Some of Underswap, Underfell, Flowerfell, Mafiafell, Mafiatale, Undertale, Swapfell, Horrortale, Dancetale, Axetale, Undersail, Synthtale, possibly others!

The Plots/Ideas! I have more ideas than what’s listed here but these are some of the biggies! - Boats and Birds: This can take place in multiple different AUs or in the canon depending on how we want to set it up. This plot loosely follows the events of the game except Frisk isn’t alone when they land in the Underground and instead is accompanied by a relative that happened to be with them on the mountain. Said relative would be an OC of mine and either their cousin, sister, or mother (the mother angle being that they had Frisk quite young as Frisk would be a child in this plot and their mother would be in their 20s). While traversing through the Underground, Frisk and their relative would be trying to figure out a way to break the barrier in a way that doesn’t involve sacrificing a soul. This plot idea is loosely inspired by the fanfiction ‘Would That Make You Happy?’. - The Iron Door: This is much more AU/Multiverse friendly and is based off ideas I’ve had that I put into a story already. Frisk’s abilities with the RESETs and SAVEs has revolved to the point that they can travel across multiple timelines and verses at will. They can’t leave the Underground during any of these travels but when you can go virtually anywhere it’s not like it matters. I’d be interested in playing Frisk, Chara (who is joined with Frisk), and an OC for this particular plot along with any other characters as the characters investigate the fracturing state of the multiverse. - After All’s Said and Done: Most AUs or just the canon (from true pacifist to a near genocide playthrough) can fit into this, as it’s involving exploring what happens after the barrier is taken down and monsterkind acclimates themselves in the surface world. Human beings have mixed feelings about monsters being in their world and this tends to cause a LOT of problems as monsters are just trying to learn how to adapt to finally being free. Would involve a lot of mini story ideas depending on how myself and those involved would want to further develop the setting! - Housemash: This is less a plot and more just a very casual idea of having whatever characters we want living in one big house together and letting shit steamroll from there. Would involve canon characters, OCs, and even whatever other fandom characters we’d want to squeeze in for shits and giggles.  As I said before there’s more but here are the big ones off the top of my head!

Additional Notes - I’m super open and flexible to playing a lot of characters and catering to the desires of my partner. That being said I am hoping to have a Sans/OC or a Sans/Adult!Frisk depending on what idea gets settled on.  - For most versions Sans I tend to lean towards them having at least loose knowledge of the RESETs. Tends to add a healthy dose of angst and headfuckery that way. - Openness to polyamory, harem/reverse harem, and A/B/O dynamics a plus!

#lf rp #undertale #undertale rp #underfell #underswap #dancetale #synthtale #oceantale #mafiafell #1x1 plot #1x1 rpg #18+ #paragraph rp