#this is a nice lazy piece to just heavily reference from and have a good time drawing sophie | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fivelakesinwriting · 3 years

Note

hii!! id love it if youd make a rafe x reader enemies to lovers fic where the reader gets a nipple piercing and rafe sees the piercing thru their thin/tight top? reader tries to tease him but rafe tries to ignore it and shit gets FREAKKYYYY lollol

Author's Notes: Y'all are little freaks...and I love that about you. I named the girl in particular for this story, sometimes it's just easier! Please let me know what you think if you have a moment. If this was your request, I hope you love it! xoxo

Warnings: Talk of piercings (might make people uneasy), Swearing, Drinking, Sexual references - Sexual innuendos, Smut *(biting, rough sex, mentions of choking , unprotected sex - please be safe out there, your choice how! ) All Characters are 18+

Requested? YES! Requests for OBX are OPEN!

*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo

To say that Rafe loathed his sister Sarah's friend - Evie - would be an understatement. He didn't know why he disliked the girl so much, she had never really done anything to him to make him dislike her so much. There was just something about her that rubbed him the wrong way.

Maybe it was the way she didn't move out of the way for him when they crossed paths in the hallway at Tannyhill, the way she called him by his full name - Rafe Cameron - or perhaps, because she looked like the kind of girl that wouldn't give him the time of day. And that bothered the shit out of him.

It was a lazy Summer afternoon and Rafe planned on doing nothing with his day. Topper and Kelce weren't available for golf, and Barry was out. So Rafe cut his losses and decided he would hang out at home by the pool and drink beers all day.

As he descended the stairs towards the kitchen to begin his afternoon he heard his sister's laugh and the distinct sound of Evie's laugh just after. Rafe exhaled heavily as he rolled his eyes, succumbing to the notion that his relaxing afternoon would have the background noise of a witch's cackle.

"Ladies." Rafe grumbled as he quickly made his way through the kitchen, a beeline towards the fridge to grab a beer.

"Rafe Cameron, nice to see you." Evie smiled over the top of her phone as she showed Sarah a photo.

"Evie, see they rescheduled your burning at the stake." Rafe glared as he popped the top of his beer, sipped, then made his way out the patio doors towards the pool.

"Rafe!" Sarah scolded as she picked out a piece of fruit from the bowl on the counter in front of her, and threw it at the door as he closed it behind him.

Just as Rafe started to get settled on the lounge chair by the pool, the sun hot on his chest and face, the patio door opened and the girls came outside still giggling.

"Do you need to be here? Can't you take the car and like, leave?" Rafe sighed as he turned his hat back around to shield his eyes from the sun to properly glare at his sister.

"Last I checked this wasn't your house, Rafe. So, we're staying. Deal with it, or go back inside." Sarah replied with a roll of her eyes as she stepped into the pool.

Rafe let out a long, dramatic sigh as he pulled his hat down over his eyes but kept it high enough that he was able to see the pool just under the brim. He crossed his arms over his chest and listened intently to the conversation the girls were having.

"So, you and Anthony are done?" Sarah asked as she waded further into the water.

"So done. Couldn't be more done." Evie stated firmly, and Rafe heard the sound of clothing drop to the deck of the pool.

"That's what you said the last time, and then I had to come pick you up from that party and your knees were all scratched up -" Sarah stated a smirk evident in her voice.

Rafe's ears perked up at the turn the conversation was taking. He knew his sister had a tendency to pick friends that were less than good influences on her. But this? Oh, he would stay and listen to this.

"And that's why I got these done. It's my gift to myself for kicking that loser to curb. And my constant reminder every time I see it." Evie replied with a laugh.

Rafe was beyond curious as to the gift she had given herself. His mind raced as he thought of all the possibilities. And he had not even known she was with someone until that moment. Rafe pulled his hat back up over his eyes, squinting against the sunlight, then stood up from the lounge chair as not to seem like he had been eavesdropping.

But he was.

"Oh, Rafe Cameron! Wait up." Evie called after him as he headed back into the house to grab another beer.

Rafe gave the door a push to keep it open for her as he continued his walk inside the house again, the air conditioning cool on his skin. He opened the fridge doors once more, but felt uncomfortable, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as he felt a pair of eyes on him.

"Stop staring at me." He ordered as he grabbed another beer and closed the door of the refrigerator harshly.

"Just waiting for you to move, Rafe Cameron." Evie smiled while she leaned against the island counter, her sunglasses pushed up on the top of her head as her eyes scanned his body.

"Can just ask." Rafe grumbled as he shifted out of the way, flicking the tab of his beer can. He felt uncomfortable under her gaze but also confident, and powerful. He didn't know which way to go.

Witch.

"Thank you." She nodded as she made her way passed him to open the doors of the fridge again and peered inside.

Rafe looked over at her through the corner of his eye as best he could, trying to figure out what she had been talking to Sarah about. What was the gift? He cursed his inquiring mind with a bite of his top lip and quickly turned on his heel to leave again.

"Oh, wait. Rafe? Can you help me? I can't reach the glasses up there." Evie asked with a strain in her voice.

Rafe turned around again with a sigh, placing his beer down on the counter then walked back over to the short girl trying to reach a glass in the high up cabinets. He easily reached above her head, grabbed a glass and placed it in front of her.

"There you go." Rafe mumbled as his fingertips trailed over the countertop as he backed up a little to give her some space.

"Thanks, Rafe Cameron." Evie nodded as she turned around to face him, leaning against the counter.

It was then as she was leaned up against the counter, arms holding her body up as Rafe noticed what Evie had been telling Sarah about all along. It had been under his nose, and under her tiny t-shirt the whole time.

"Who's Anthony?" Rafe asked with a clear of his throat he hoped wasn't too obvious before he pointed to her nipples, pierced, very visible through her white t-shirt.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Evie grinned as she got close to him, close enough that he could smell the chlorine from the pool on her and whatever perfume she used. She brushed by him, her nipples grazing his bare arm as she exited the kitchen and Rafe shivered.

Witch. Bitch....fuck, she's hot.

Rafe growled low in his chest as he turned around, grabbed his beer and took a big drink. He pushed the door open to the pool area again and stalked out to see Evie sitting on the pool deck, her feet in the water as Sarah floated on an obnoxious flotation device shaped like a swan.

"You didn't bring a suit, Evie?" Rafe muttered as he took another generous sip of his beer and placed it on the table beside his lounge chair.

"This is my suit." She replied as she kicked a leg out of the water.

"A white t-shirt and bikini bottoms?" Rafe inquired, attempting to keep his tone even.

She didn't reply, only tossed him a smile as she placed her leg back in the water while she leaned back on her hands. She extended her neck back, letting the sun hit her face as she let out a content sigh.

Rafe didn't like to be teased.

"Sarah, go pick up Wheezie." Rafe ordered as he finished off his beer and adjusted his hat on his head, turning the brim backwards.

"Why do I have to do it? You're the one with no friends and nothing to do." Sarah replied with a glare over the the neck of the swan.

"I'll get us all dinner if you go and pick her up. I don't like that Samuel kid she hangs out with." Rafe grumbled as he leaned back in the chair.

"Do you like anyone?" Sarah sighed as she pulled herself over to the edge of the pool and climbed out.

Sarah asked Evie if she wanted to come along, but Evie declined. She said she would stay here, dry off and make sure that Rafe didn't fuck up the dinner choice for them all.

"You want a beer, Evie?" Rafe asked once Sarah had left and it was just the two of them and the tension he wasn't sure how to label.

The two of them stood in the kitchen, looking through take out menus and avoided conversation. Rafe's eyes flickered over the top of the menu he was pretending to read and zeroed in on her nipples, still visible through her shirt and he was reeling.

"You should change your shirt before Wheezie gets back." Rafe mumbled as he quickly looked back at the menu in his hands so she didn't catch him staring.

"For whose benefit? Hers or yours, Rafe Cameron?" Evie smirked as she tossed the menu she was holding onto the counter, then leaned on her forearms and looked up at him.

"Listen. Maybe this Anthony character liked to be teased and have you shove your tits in his face, but I don't. So quit it." Rafe growled as he dropped his own menu to the floor and reached over the counter to take hold of her face, making her look right into his eyes.

"You don't like my tits?" She questioned, hands pressed to the counter as she started to climb onto it to get closer to him. The other shoe starting to drop.

"I love them." Rafe practically whined as Evie climbed onto the counter and crawled over to him. He tugged off her still wet t-shirt, dropping it to the floor before he reached for her breasts.

"Gentle!" She hissed with a yank of his hair as he tugged at either of the steel bars that pierced her nipples.

"Hurts?" Rafe breathed out as his nose brushed over hers, his palms kneading her breasts a little more gently as he let her pull on his hair.

"Not too much. You just look like you can get rough." She muttered as her other hand reached for his bicep and squeezed.

"Can be, yeah. Won't be this time if you don't want that." Rafe exhaled while his lips got closer to hers. She still smelled like chlorine, and her perfume was some sort of flower he couldn't name. He loved it.

Evie twisted her fingers into the hair at the back of his head and pulled his lips to hers, the other shoe finally dropping. Rafe groaned against her mouth as he released his hold on her chest in favour of wrapping his arms around her instead, pulling her close against him.

"Don't bite! Your sister will notice the marks." Evie gasped when Rafe removed his lips from his and kissed down to her collarbone, sinking his teeth into her skin still warm from the sun.

"Give you one of my shirts. Have to cover these anyways." Rafe mumbled into her clavicle as he reached up to palm at her breasts again.

"Because Sarah and Wheezie coming home to me in your clothes isn't more suspicious, Rafe." She scolded as she reached for his hair to tug his face up, making him look at her.

"Let me worry about them." Rafe growled as he grabbed her hips to lift her off the counter then placed her on the cool tiled floor in front of him. He spun her around and pulled her bikini bottoms down her legs, his breath in his throat at the naked woman in front of him.

"Here?!" She squealed as she tossed a frantic look over her shoulder at him, eyes wide as she waited for his next move. Rafe ran his hands from her shoulders down her back to her hips, simply admiring her form.

"Too much for you?" Rafe grinned, an eyebrow raised to challenge her.

"So, teasing is okay as long as you're the tease?" Evie shivered as her head dropped down, forehead pressed to the countertop as Rafe reached around to roll her nipples between his fingers again.

"Yes." Rafe stated simply, as if this were a fact she should have known upon walking into Tannyhill. He bent down to press a kiss to the back of her neck, a groan in the back of his throat as she pushed back into him.

"C'mon, Rafe." Evie whined as her right hand reached back to pull at his hair as he bit down on the creased of her neck while he untied his swim shorts, letting them fall to his feet.

"You're so whiny. So bratty. I fucking hate it." Rafe growled into her neck as he lined himself up with her entrance, choking out a breath at how wet she felt against him.

"Are you sure?" She exhaled and Rafe could hear the smile on her face.

Fucking witch. Beautiful, pierced, whiny, wet and warm fucking witch.

"If you wanna keep this gentle I suggest you keep your mouth shut, sweetheart." Rafe breathed in her ear as he pressed his tip inside of her, and he swore his heart stopped for a second as she clenched around him.

Her back arched and she let out a pathetic little whine that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he sunk inside of her completely. She reached a hand back to grab his wrist, her nails deep in his skin as he settled inside of her to let her adjust to his size.

"Damn." Rafe groaned as he pulled his hips back, fingertips pressed into the skin of her hips to keep her steady as he thrust back in. He sunk his teeth into her neck again, loving the way she bounced back into him when he did.

"More, Rafe. Please." Evie begged breathlessly, her neck extended to the side to let him mark her up. Rafe pulled his calloused fingers over her hips and up to her breasts again, kneading them before he rolled her nipples between his fingers.

"Hate how good you feel. Goddammit, Evie." Rafe growled while he wrapped one arm around her chest to pull her close while his other hand reached between her legs.

"Shit! Too much!" Evie gasped, her eyes wide when Rafe gave a firm thrust that sent her forward to the countertop once more. Her nails scratched over his forearm as he pressed his middle finger to her clit, finding it easily.

"Can't handle it?" Rafe grunted as a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, his middle finger circling her clit as he pounded into her from behind.

"Fuck you, Rafe Cameron." Evie sobbed out, back arched as she pulled one hand down his forearm and the other reached back to pull at his hair.

"You already are, and I can fucking feel you coming. You always this easy? Hmm?" Rafe panted as he unwrapped his arm from her chest to press his large palm to her collarbone, bringing her upright against him. He wanted to wrap his hand around that delicate little neck so badly, but he would wait. She had asked him to gentler with her, and he was trying so hard.

"You're a fuc - " She cursed but was cut off by Rafe reaching up and pushing two fingers in her mouth.

"Shut up, and just cum for me." Rafe growled as he pushed his middle and index finger further in her mouth, a shiver going down his spine as he felt her tongue swirl over the pads of his fingers.

As she came around him, whining around his fingers, Rafe was reconsidering his deep hatred for Evie. He chased his own release and kept an obnoxiously bruising grip on her hip with his free hand. Rafe groaned against the back of her neck, pressing his palm flat against her stomach to keep her flush against him as he finished inside of her.

"Shit." Rafe breathed out against the back of her neck, removing his fingers from her mouth. He gave her a soft kiss below her hairline as a thank you, and he hoped she didn't feel the way his breath shook on his exhale.

"I still don't like you very much." Evie whispered as she rested her head back on his shoulder, her eyes closed as she twisted his hair between her fingers.

"Don't like you all that much either." Rafe scoffed as he pressed a kiss to her forehead, although he had to admit in that moment just the two of them in the quiet house wrapped around one another - he didn't hate her all that much.

"I might let you do that again, though. If you give me a shirt, and order me food." Evie responded, her eyes opening just a little to watch as he kissed her forehead to the tip of her nose and then her chin.

"If you don't get burned at the stake first, be happy to do that again."

Hotties:

@anonymousobxfan @starkey-babie @barrysjumpsuit @sodasback

@fashion-fasting @vintageobx @babeyglo @rottenstyx @pogueslandia @soph0864 @whcclxr @beauvibaby @plutooryectors @rafecameronspolo

*tag list is open, please let me know if I forgot you or you would like to be added/removed from particular posts. I've removed the people that don't pre-populate :(

Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! Thank you so much xoxo

Requests for OBX ARE OPEN!

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drcriminalminds · 3 years

Text

Red Handed

Aaron Hotchner x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Language. Smut (very, very short).

A/N: This is inspired by that episode where Rossi walks in on Penelope and Kevin in the shower HAHAHA.

Word Count: 1,298

“You know, I think he’s seeing someone.”

Aaron’s kisses were hot, heavy, and they moved with each of his hard thrusts as he fucked up into you. He had you pressed tightly against the shower wall, keeping you there by firmly being squished against you. He didn’t stop his movements, loving your noises and whimpers too much to even think about teasing you.

“Oh, fuck! You feel amazing...” You breathed, throat straining to get the words out.

He sucked on your neck for that, leaving a purpling bruise and chuckling just below your ear. He had a rather rough day, and he had a lot of pent up frustration that you were more than glad to take off of him. He held you up even higher, slamming into you at a new angle that had your toes curling behind his back.

Hot water from the shower head was still flowing steadily, drenching the both of you and filling the room with so much steam that it was getting difficult to breathe. He needed some gratification after his horrible day that you had seen from beginning to end, and he was grateful that he had you to ease his tension.

“You’re so perfect...so beautiful.” He praised as he felt your legs tighten around him, letting him know that the band was about to snap.

His suspicions were correct. A few seconds and thrusts later, his name rolled off of your tongue deliciously, and he was milking your walls white as you released around him. Your breathings were heavy as he set you down on the floor, your legs feeling a bit wobbly. He peppered you with lazy kisses, the shower washing away the evidence of your dirty encounter. He eventually pulled back to look at you, all the traces of lust were gone from your eyes and had been replaced with contentment.

“That was-” Aaron went to say, but was cut off when a loud knock was heard on your apartment door.

It was pretty late, nearing 11:30 at night. You had absolutely no idea who could be there this late.

“I’ll get it.” You grumbled, annoyed that someone was interrupting your more than enjoyable shower.

Aaron whined in protest, but helped you out of the shower to keep you from slipping and possibly hurting yourself. The knocks had grown louder now, and you scrambled to throw on your robe and get to the door. You expected it to be one of your nosy neighbors to see what all the noise had been about, but you were shocked when you saw your best friend standing there.

“Hi, [Y/N].” Spencer greeted, allowing himself inside as he normally did.

It wasn’t at all uncommon for Spencer to drop by your apartment. He was rather spontaneous despite popular belief. Sometimes he would just get bored because he couldn’t sleep or he just wanted someone to talk to. But he almost never came over this late, or at least without calling first.

“Uh, hey, Spence.” You greeted, feeling all your blood rush at the remembrance that Aaron was in your bathroom alone.

Spencer didn’t know about you and Hotch. No one did. Except for Rossi, who figured it out himself. It was something that you and Aaron agreed to keep on the down low, and out of public knowledge. It was a frowned upon thing to date a co-worker...or in your case, your superior. It was nice to have a little secret that you were keeping from the team. It kept things interesting.

“Did Hotch seem weird to you today?” Spencer asked, entering your small kitchen and opening the fridge.

“I...not really, no.” You lied, knowing he had a terrible day.

You couldn’t see Spencer from the refrigerator door blocking him, but his muffled reply alerted you that he had just found your leftover pizza from about an hour ago.

“He just seemed off to me. He never yells at you like that.” Spencer remarked.

It was true that Aaron had yelled at you in front of everyone, resulting in the two of you getting into a massive fight, before making up over pizza and a movie...and then a round of shower sex.

“I’m sure he had his reasons,” You replied, the sudden lack of sound of the running water from the shower setting in; “Spence, now really isn’t a good-”

“You know, I think he’s seeing someone.” Spencer cut you off.

That sparked your interest for obvious reasons. You had already begun to wonder how NO ONE had picked up on it yet (other than Rossi). You were curious to see what Spencer was picking up on.

“Oh? Why do you say that?” You questioned.

Spencer rose from the fridge, closing the door with a half-eaten slice of pizza in his hand.

“He just seems happier, aside from today,” Spencer said; “And a few days ago, he walked past me and I could smell perfume. Definitely not his regular cologne.” He announced.

You snorted, teasing the lanky man.

“Are you smelling Aaron on a regular basis?” You joked.

Spencer stopped his chewing, and raised a brow.

“Aaron? Since when are you on a first name basis with Hotch?” Spencer queried.

Your cheeks went hot at your mistake, your amused smile fading.

“Oh, well...I just meant-”

And then the man in question made his entrance. Almost stark naked if it hadn’t been for the towel around his waist.

“Baby, I know that you know this, but your hot water heater is terrible.” Hotch said, referring to how your shower could go from blazing hot to frigidly cold in a matter of seconds.

Spencer’s entire face went red, the tips of his ears almost going purple at the sight of Hotch in front of him. Hotch noticed your deer-in-headlights stare and Spencer’s ghostly look. The three of you were frozen in time, very aware of the situation and how peculiar it was.

“Reid, what the- what are you doing here?” Aaron asked in a calm, yet panicked tone.

Aaron knew that you and Spencer spent a lot of time together outside of work, but he didn’t think that Spencer would ever show up when he was there. Spencer’s eyes couldn’t help but dart between the two of you, back and forth as if he were trying to convince himself it was real.

“I thought that [Y/N] might want to talk about today...but I see I came at a bad time.” He blushed.

“Spencer, it’s...we just...” You tried to explain, but couldn’t find the right words.

This was not how you thought this would go. Spencer had just showed up at a very inconvenient time, and now was in the presence of two of his dearest friends who had just clearly been doing something they probably shouldn’t have been.

Spencer had just caught you red handed.

The boy genius was piecing it all together in his head. The pieces all fit together to create one solid, obvious picture.

You and Hotch were together.

“I’m sorry I interrupted...I, uh, guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” Spencer said, making a mad dash for your front door.

“Reid.” Hotch said in an attempt to stop him.

“Spencer, wait, it’s not-”

But he was out the door and down the hall before either of you could convince him to stay. A pit of dread and guilt was brewing in both of your guts. Now that Spencer knew, it was only a matter of time before everyone else did. It wasn’t that you didn’t want the team to know, it was more of the legality stuff you’d have to go through when they did.

You sighed heavily, rubbing your temples stressfully. Aaron rested a hand on your shoulder, his deep, sarcastic voice sounding out.

“That went well.”

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotch x reader #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner oneshot #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine #drcriminalminds

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asteroiideae · 3 years

Text

okay, so I don’t make these kinds of posts often because tbh I’m a little lazy and very tired like 24/7 lmao but I’ve been seeing a lot of Pride reading lists hit my dash (and they’re excellent, and I save them all!) buuuut reading books is still a roadblock I’m struggling to mentally overcome -- and audiobooks are great, but they take 84 years (sometimes literally???) to get through. so! I thought I’d share a (very tiny) list of the queer manga I’ve read this year that you might enjoy for Pride, with some descriptions/trigger warnings/thoughts to go with them. so here we go in no particular order other than where they sit on my bookshelf:

What Did You Eat Yesterday? by Fumi Yoshinaga

okay so I know I go on about this manga at literally every presented opportunity, but I honestly just can’t help myself??? as a thirty-something queer adult, I really love the quiet maturity of this relationship between Shiro and Kenji; especially when it’s highlighted by references to shenanigans of their youth, and the ways in which they are still growing as both individuals and a couple. I’ve only read the first six volumes but I’m OBSESSED.

Status: Ongoing (17 volumes; 15 translated) Summary: Shiro and Kenji are an established adult couple with separate careers and interests, whose relationship is depicted over the meals cooked for them by Shiro. This doesn’t have an overarching plot, which might be off-putting for some readers; each chapter can be compared to a fanfic one-shot, usually containing it’s own tiny storyline or theme. It’s literally just domestic moments and meals shared between these men. Warnings: While I didn’t personally have a problem with this, younger readers might find some of the dated terms offensive. If you’ve spent any time with older queer folks (older as in 45-50+) this won’t be anything you aren’t used to, but if your experience of queer folx skews younger or online, you might get taken by surprise. There’s also some internalized homophobia; and by some I mean quite a bit. Shiro’s personal arc (at least in the first six volumes) heavily revolves around how much he closets himself and tries desperately to pass as “normal” in Japanese business culture.

Boys Run The Riot by Keito Gaku

holy shit holy shit holy SHIT. this story is so good??? so VERY good??? I was a little cautious, and a little bit uninterested in a story about teens (only because I’m in my thirties and crave more adult representation,) but I was VERY WRONG to be. Boys Run The Riot is beautifully drawn, beautifully written, and probably my favorite work on this list. the mangaka is also trans so the inherent understanding and nuance of our protagonist’s experience is really lovely. Also featuring a fantastic brotp between a trans boy and his new himbo bestie; no seriously if you want a story about a trans boy getting to have good broships with other boys his own age I CANNOT stress this enough. Volume two is releasing next month; I have it preordered. I’m laying on my floor wishing for time to hurry the fuck up. I need more of this smol angry trans boy and his big soft himbo bff. PLS. Status: Ongoing (4 volumes published; 2 translated) Summary: Ryo Watari is a second year high school student who is trans and struggling to feel comfortable with his very rigidly structured life at school, at home, and among his friends (to whom he is not out.) By chance he meets Jin Sato, a cis boy who also feels outcast (often judged for his appearance without any deeper thought.) When Ryo comes out to Jin in a state of frustration, Jin accepts who Ryo is and makes an offer -- why not start a fashion line that subverts all the expectations that have been put on them both; why not express themselves even when they’ve been told they shouldn’t. Warnings: Ryo is struggling with gender dysphoria, and it is written by someone who has probably experienced it, so it might be a little real for any trans folks who deal with that. Also, while neither the narrative nor Jin misgender Ryo (at least, not once he expresses to Jin that he is a man), Ryo is not out to anyone else and so he frequently is misgendered at school and we see how badly that impacts him and the way he views himself and processes his emotions. Ryo spends a lot of time being angry and trying to swallow it down, and that can be very raw to witness at times. There is also a depiction of unsafe binding (though the mangaka has an immediate note about binding safety, and goes further in-depth at the back of the manga.)

Our Dining Table by Mita Ori

okay, so I was a bit on the fence about whether or not I wanted to include this as a rec, but I decided that it might actually been what someone wants or needs, so here it is! while I really enjoyed this concept, and I’m always a sucker for found family stories (let me tell you I’m queer without telling you I’m queer, much?) it feels like this story is a bit rushed at times, and the romantic relationship between our protagonists is very blink and you’ll miss it. I don’t even want to call it subtle so much as it is just not remotely the focus of the story so it’s a little startling when it happens. but! if you’re looking for a story about adults processing grief and trauma together, and learning how to care for another person (and as a result, learning how to care for themselves,) this is a nice read that isn’t too heavy! Status: Complete (one volume) Summary: Yutaka is a salaryman whose past experiences prevent him from reaching out to others, even through something so simple as sharing a meal. Despite this is REALLY loves to cook, and wishes he had a reason to do it more often. Then he meets Minoru, and his muuuuuch younger brother Tane (it’s like a 17 year age gap between the brothers?) and finds himself teaching them how to cook, and overcoming his fear of eating in front of others. Warnings: Good news, there’s no overt homophobia in this story! Bad news, the other trauma makes up for it! We have a lot of trauma surrounding parental death, childhood bullying, and adoption; in addition to an actual fear of eating in front of others.

Our Dreams at Dusk / Shimanami Tasogare by Yuhki Kamatani

this is the first manga series I collected, and I’m still very pleased about that. the art is ABSOLUTELY stunning? the use of visual imagery and surreal analogies to explain queerness is fucking on POINT. I cried so hard during a couple of these volumes I developed a migraine. I only have one piece of critique on the whole thing (addressed in the warnings,) and I intend to do another re-read when I’m ready for the catharsis of sobbing into my pillow again. Like Boys Run The Riot, Our Dreams at Dusk is drawn and written by a member of the queer community (a non-binary mangaka, this time,) and as a result it hits pretty fucking close to home in a lot of ways. while I really love this series it’s super not for the faint of heart, you WILL come out of this reading experience with some things to unpack. Status: Completed (4 volumes; 4 translated) Summary: We mostly follow Tasuku Kaname, as he is outted at school by a classmate as being homosexual, and his initial despair and subsequent journey of acceptance. In this process, Tasuku finds himself at a drop-in center, which seems to primarily function as a safe space for queer people; we meet several lesbians, an elderly gay man, a trans character, and a young character who isn’t ready for any kind of label because they are still ??? about themselves and their identity. Each of these “secondary” characters is given room to breathe and to work through difficulties of their own while Tasuku watches and learns that even though life is hard sometimes, there’s beauty to be found in one’s own strength. Warnings: hoooo boy; well there’s all kinds of homophobia and transphobia; a character is outted against their will (multiple times), there’s some really insidious transphobia covered by “concern”, there’s internalized homophobia everywhere, and a very complicated asexual character whose presentation left me (as an ace) with super mixed feelings and a lot of frustration (though I wouldn’t call it bad necessarily; just wanted to put that out there for my fellow asexual folks.) If you have read (or go on to read!) any of these, please let me know! I’d love to chat about the stories, and hear your thoughts on them -- because we’re a broad/diverse community and our own experiences shape us differently and give us different insights. <3 ANYWAY, for those of you who read this monstrous self-indulgent post, thank you! Feel free to add any queer manga you’ve been reading below - I’m always on the hunt for more recs!

#happy pride #manga recs #gay representation #queer representation #trans characters #asexual characters #gay characters #everything in-between tbh

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agentbarton12 · 4 years

Text

cause wherever you are is home

summary: basically what happened when max and lucas went home together in suzie, do you copy?

a/n: there is a criminally low amount of fics with lumax as the main ship so here is my minor contribution to rectify this. title from ‘home’ by catie turner. also posted on ao3

warnings: fluff

word count: 1.7k

masterlist

This is not how Max wanted to be spending her Saturday afternoon.

Sheʼd rather be getting ice cream with Lucas, playing video games with Lucas, doing anything else with Lucas. Yet, here she was, at the top of this hill, assembling a dumb machine to contact a girl that probably doesnʼt exist.

But, Lucas is with her so it’s not all bad. (Which she never said if he asks, okay?)

Itʼs not all boring, sheʼll admit. Despite him annoying her, Lucas does make the entire ordeal more enjoyable for her and Will is actually fun to hang around with when heʼs not whining about playing D&D.

At one point, they get Dustin to forget about his walkie-talkie and teach them all the dumb war cries he learnt at Camp Know Where.

She doesnʼt bother to hide her accusatory look when Will asks where the water was.

By the time the sun had gone down, Max started to get more than a little cranky. They had moved to lie down, with Lucas and her both using his backpack as a headrest. “Dustin, come on!” she snaps exasperatedly, after the boy in question continued to try and reach Suzie. “She’s not there.”

Lucas, who seems to be as fed up as she is, exclaims, “Suzie doesn’t exist! No girl is that perfect.”

Max sits up at that and turns to Lucas with a raised eyebrow. “Is that so?” She watches as he sputters nonsense trying to backpedal and correct his blunder. It amuses her, and Max won’t deny that she enjoys making Lucas squirm. “Relax I’m just teasing. I’m obviously perfect, and Dustin is obviously lying.”

She stands up and dusts herself off. The redhead holds her hand out for Lucas, which he grabs and pulls himself up. As they’re walking down the hill, she hears Will call out after them. “Where are you going?”

“Home!” Max yells back without missing a beat. There’s a small, lazy smile on Lucas’ face that she doesn’t notice. She feels a tug on her arm and slows down to find that Lucas has stopped walking.

He has a mischievous grin on his face. “Race you the rest of the way?”

A smirk works its way onto Max’s face. “You’re on.”

She doesn’t give him time to react, just releases his hand and sprints down the hill. She can vaguely hear his indignant cries about how she’s cheating as he tries to catch up to her. Max lets out a hearty laugh, feels it in her belly as Lucas whoops and hollers behind her. The wind is beating against her face, blowing her hair back.

Thereʼs an unmistakable grin on her face when she makes it to the bottom. It only takes Lucas another five seconds to join her at the bottom of the hill, and when he does, he’s a heaving mess. He’s crouched over, hands on his knees, as he tries to catch his breath.

“I win,” Max gloats, beaming at him brightly.

He waves her off. “Yeah, yeah, I let you win,” Lucas reveals once his breathing has gone down to normal.

Max crosses her arms across her chest in an intimidating stance. “Oh, you let me?”

Lucas lasts a good three seconds before he cracks under the intensity of her glare. “Okay, okay, I surrender.” He raises his arms defensively. “You won.”

“That’s what I thought.” She turns on her heel to walk in the direction of where they left their bikes and her skateboard, and Lucas wastes no time in grabbing hold of her hand again.

They walk in silence for a while until Lucas pipes up and asks, “Hey, do you really think Dustin is lying?”

Max shrugs, still studying their joined hands. “I don’t know. It’s fun to tease him either way, though,” she adds, looking up to give her boyfriend a cheeky grin. He laughs and nods, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand. “But I must say, aside from you drinking all the water by yourself—”

“I offered you some!”

“—It was kinda nice. Watching the stars, I mean. With you.” Her voice trails off at the end in embarrassment, ducking her head so Lucas can’t see her blush.

When he doesn’t say anything for a while, she musters up all the courage she can to peak up at him and finds that he’s already looking at her. The smile on his face is bright enough to rival that of the streetlight they’ve stopped under, and it causes something to flutter in her chest.

“We should do that sometime. Stargaze. Together.”

Max nods along, unable to fight the grin that works its way on her face. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

When they reach their things, Lucas lets go of her hand and rushes forward to what she assumes is his bike. She can’t help but feel a little disappointed at the loss of contact. Max finds him clutching her skateboard to his chest, bottom lip stuck out childishly.

“What are you doing?” she asks incredulously. She moves to pick his bike up from the ground for him, and watches him with her head tilted.

“Can I ride it?”

Max’s face blanks. “You’re kidding.” “I’d like for us both to get there in one piece, thank you.”

Lucas puffs his chest out indignantly. “I’ve been practicing!”

“With what?”

Max looks at him expectantly waiting for an answer, to which he supplies after a moment’s hesitation. “Okay, so I taped a couple cans to the bottom of a piece of wood I found outside—”

“Oh my god.”

“—but it’s practically the same thing!”

“In what universe!”

Lucas is still looking at her pouting with pleading eyes and she knows her resolve is going to crumble. “You’ll fall,” she worries, in a final attempt to change his mind.

“You’ll catch me,” he says shrugging easily. As though he’s never been more sure about anything.

Sighing heavily, Max gives in. She knows there’s no way she can say no to him, not when he’s looking at her like that. “Fine.” Lucas punches the air in excitement and runs into the middle of the road. He places the board down and tentatively steps onto it.

“Just push yourself forward,” she instructs, standing off to the side on the sidewalk. “Don’t do anything crazy.”

“I’m pushing, I’m pushing,” Lucas grunts as he pushes himself off the road. When he gets the hang of it, he cheers loudly. “Whoo, I’ve got it!” he yells loudly and Max chuckles despite herself, smiling wide for no one in particular. The cool night air nips at her exposed skin, but she can’t help but feel impossibly warm being here with Lucas right now.

The dark skinned boy skates farther down the street and Max rolls his bike alongside her as she jogs to keep up with him.

In his excitement, Lucas forgets that this is his first time skating and turns his head to look back at her. “Look, Iʼm Tony Hawk!”

He leans a little too much to the left and veers in the direction of the sidewalk. “Watch out!” Max warns and Lucasʼ eyes widen as he looks out in front of him.

“Aah!” he screams as he goes flying into a pile of trash bags sitting on the sidewalk.

“Lucas!” Max drops the bike and rushes to his side. “Are you okay?”

He grunts as he rolls over to lie on his back. “My knee,” he croaks out. A little dramatically, Max thinks, considering he landed on a relatively soft surface. “Can you kiss it better?”

The redhead rolls her eyes and pushes herself off the ground. Lucas laughs loudly, evidently proud of himself. “You smell like garbage,” Max deadpans as she dusts herself off. He lets out an affronted “hey!” and picks himself up. “I told you youʼd fall.”

Lucas pouts. “You didnʼt catch me.”

“You canʼt skate,” she fires back.

“Youʼll teach me,” he says, again as though he was absolutely sure about it. Max supposes he has every right to be.

“Yeah, maybe,” she says, going to fetch her skateboard from where it was lying on the edge of the street. “Cʼmon, letʼs go home.”

This time, as Lucas is picking his bike up holding both the handlebars so he can pull it along with him, Max can see the soft smile playing on his lips.

“What are you smiling about, stalker?” Sheʼs teasing

“You said ‘home’.”

“Yeah?”

He sighs a little when he notices that she doesnʼt understand what heʼs getting at. “No, I mean, like, you didnʼt say my house. You just said home.” Then, quieter, “Do you think of it as your home?”

The thing is, Max doesnʼt have the best reference material for what ʼhomeʼ should be. But Lucas is good, and safe, and the best thing sheʼs had in a long time.

And she supposes thatʼs pretty similar.

“Maybe,” is what she says. Nervously, head ducked and eyes trained on the road in front of her. “Just… with you, I guess.” She can feel her face flush and though she canʼt see it, she knows sheʼs blushing furiously.

“Aww,” her boyfriend croons, “youʼre almost as red as your hair.”

“Shut up,” Max mumbles without any real bite.

Lucas shakes his head, smile stretched across his face. “No I wonʼt, because Max Mayfield likes me!”

Her face burns. “Oh my god.”

“I donʼt blame you. Iʼm kind of irresistible.”

Max rolls her eyes at that. “Oh, really?”

Lucas nods enthusiastically, and Max just shakes her head in disbelief, a fond smile on her lips. “I like you too, by the way.”

“I figured,” the redhead jokes, trying to add some levity to the heavy atmosphere around them.

“And youʼre my home, too.” Lucasʼ smile is so bright, she swears it blinds her momentarily.

Maxʼs heart swells with something sheʼs pretty sure is love and she nudges him with her shoulder. “I never said that.”

Lucas waves her off. “Technicalities.”

“Race you home?” she challenges, more comfortable with the prospect and watches as Lucasʼ smile grows impossibly wider.

“Prepare to lose, Madmax!”

That night, when sheʼs staring up at the ceiling on the spare mattress in Ericaʼs room, Max decides to create a home for herself.

It’s when Lucas and her reach the garage, arguing over who made it there first; Mrs Sinclair greeting them both with a hug and a kiss on the cheek; Lucas holding her hand under the table as they all take turns recounting what they did that day.

She doesnʼt have that much knowledge to go off of when it comes to home. But what she does know is that whatever it is, Lucas is pretty damn close. (Donʼt tell him she said that.)

#lucas sinclair #max mayfield #stranger things #lucas x max #lumax #fanfiction #my writing #will byers #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #el hopper #netflix #stranger things 3 #st #st 3

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melon-kiss · 4 years

Text

Screaming, Pt 3

Part 1

Part 2

Link to the part three on AO3

__________

“Molly, I’d like you to talk to me.”

And I’d like to be not-post-LSD traumatised. We all want something, don’t we, Mark?

I flash him an irritated look. He was the one who stabbed me with the freaking syringe two weeks ago. I’m still not over it. He surely thinks he did the right thing but I beg to differ. Although... well, it looked like I was capable of killing Sherlock Holmes, who, apparently, is a London celebrity.

Since I’ve opened my mouth (only to scream, but who cares, right?), they bring me newspapers here. It’s nice to get my hands and brain busy but I’m sure they have an ulterior motive for this. Like, I don’t know, a topic for a conversation?

“I know you can do it.”

I sit with my legs pulled up again. I want to hide in the tight space between my thighs and my chest, so I place my forehead against my knees and let out a sigh.

I’ve made it easier for them. Apparently, the connection between my brain and my body has been restored. I swallow my meds all by myself. I eat more. I especially love toasts for breakfast. Sometimes it takes me two hours to chew out two, but I make myself do it because I want this nightmare to be over.

I really start feeling it - the heaviness of my damages. I’ve come to the realisation that I am truly alone and have no idea about myself. I know only a couple of things: my name, my sister’s name and address, my own address, my workplace. My scientific knowledge is intact, so that’s a relief. But I don’t remember who I was for the last seven years (at least!). I don’t know who to trust, who to refer as a friend. I am really lost. I don’t remember feeling so lost ever in my life. I’m like a time traveller - I’m suddenly moved from one place to another and no one gave me an instruction manual. I suspect the Three Horseman of Madness used to be my friends. Though, I can’t help but wonder - how come did I manage to make friends with detectives?

And there’s still the matter of Sherlock himself. I can’t figure him out. He said, he clearly said he was now the one who’d said ‘I love you’ and would get nothing in return. Does it mean he wants to receive something in return? And does saying ‘I love you’ equal loving someone for real? What were the circumstances? And have I said it first?

The number of mysteries here is too much for me.

I’ve gathered more pieces of my memory puzzle. When the content of the syringe begun to work, I remembered myself standing in a kitchen, wearing a colourful sweater, holding a phone in my hand. Every time I try to retrieve more, a wave of anxiety forces me to back out.

“Molly, you’ve managed to break the catatonic state,” the doctor resumed. “Please, don’t let it go to waste.”

I roll my eyes at him.

“Fine,” I reply.

Mark’s eyebrows go way up as he smiles and almost chuckles at the sound of my voice. I sound a bit hoarse. Last time I ‘spoke’, I screamed like in a torture seat. But they must definitely change my meds. They make me feel numb and sleepy but I assume it’s way too soon for such a request.

“What would you like to know?” I ask.

“Well... how are you feeling today?”

I sigh in exasperation.

“Seriously, Mark?”

He shrugs.

“You know what they say - if you want to know how someone feels, ask them.”

I rub my eyes before I respond.

“Sleepy and lazy. These sweeties do much more damage to my brain than LSD has done.” I point at the pills in a small plastic cup on my nightstand.

“If you don’t feel good, we’ll think about finding something better.”

“Thanks.”

We both fall silent. A guilt manages to resurface over the fog of numbness. I look at my palms. They’re normal. My fingers are appallingly bony but they look all right. No injuries. I think about the moment when they were tightly clenched around his neck. I was so close. I would kill him, no doubt.

I thank doctor Mark in my mind. He would be right to say he did the right thing.

“What... wh-what...” I stammer, my breath getting shallow and irregular. “What- what about-“

“He’s all right,” doctor Mark answers, smiling gently. “No permanent damage. A bruise on the neck and bloodshot eyes for a week. I’m convinced he looks good as new now.”

My fingers around his pale neck. His eyes filled with sorrow and guilt. He tried to say sorry.

I try to even out my breath but I fail. Tears burst out of my eyes and I utter a sound that resembles a howl. I press my hand clenched into fist against my forehead. My crying is so intense something inside me cramps and hurts. I catch every breath with a great effort, greedily but barely successful. I feel shrunken. I notice there’s a stream of drool coming out of my mouth. I let it soak up in the sheet.

This is how broken I am. This is how broken I’ll always be.

Broken beyond repair.

“I didn’t want to...” I shriek, rocking a little bit forwards and backwards. “I don’t know...”

“I know you didn’t want to hurt him, Molly,” says the doctor calmly. “You were disoriented.”

Disoriented?

“I’m not fucking disoriented!” I yell, looking at him. I don’t see him too well, my vision is blurry from the tears. I wipe my mouth into my arm. “I am messed up! Hell, I’m fucked up! And this-“ I point my finger at my temple, “This is now fucking useless. If I killed myself, no one would care.”

I let out a sigh. Inhale, exhale. I try to stop the increasing frustration. The tears stop falling down my face. My heart slows down. My breathing finds its rhythm.

“Did you think about killing yourself?”

I shrug, avoiding his eyes.

“No,” I reply sincerely. “But I wouldn’t mind if I died.”

Doctor Mark remains quiet. He stands next to my bed, holding my patient chart and observes as I slowly pull myself together. So this is what’s been hiding behind this catatonia?, I think, analysing my behaviour in last two weeks.

“You’re wrong,” he says eventually. “There is one person who would bring hell on this world if you died.”

I look up at him. He smiles.

“Don’t worry. It’ll come to you.”

He walks out of the room, leaving me clueless.

* * *

My reading is being interrupted by a shut of the door in my room. I raise my head up to see him glued to the wall as if he played a spy. He pants heavily and looks at me suspiciously. I frown.

“Erm... hello?”

His body relaxes and he bounces off the wall, slowly striding closer to my bed.

“Hello, Molly Hooper.”

I watch him carefully but it’s difficult since my heart pumps my blood so loudly I can barely hear my thoughts. Not that I have a lot of them. The drugs take care of that. He goes around the bed and stops at my left side. He looks down at me with a sincere interest.

There is a barely visible remain of a bruising (the author being me) on his neck. His eyes look perfectly white, his (lovely) curls don’t seem so floppy. He grins, which, I suppose, is a bit unusual of him, since this is the first time I see him smiling and he’s been visiting me for about two months. Well, excluding the last three weeks. He wears one of his suits with a plum shirt. He looks good. I have to swallow hard to distract myself from the thoughts which begin to cloud my judgment. I pretend to be interested in my book again.

“How did they let you in?” I ask flippantly.

“I’m not exactly following orders by being here,” he replies.

I look up at him.

“What do you mean?”

His gaze freaks me out but I manage not to flinch.

“I’m not allowed to be with you alone. Apparently, you’re a danger to me.”

I put away the book and stand on my bed. We’re face to face. Our heights are equal now and the distance between us is not bigger than ten inches.

“Are you afraid of me?” I ask and I start noticing I’m unable to refuse the urge of looking at him.

“No,” he responds. “Unpredictability is my forte.”

We gaze at each other for a while and the moment’s suddenly gone. But I could swear I saw a spark in his eyes - a spark ready to light a fire.

“What are you doing here, then?” I ask, crossing my arms on my chest.

“I came here to see you,” he replies, following my every move. “I heard the good news about you breaking the catatonia, so I thought it would be a wise idea to talk to you, now that you do talk.”

“You do realise that you’ve made me angry enough to wake me up, right?”

He smirks and I don’t like it. I mean... I like it, but I don’t. I have a bad feeling about this.

“I’m well aware of the fact, yes. Mainly because I’ve done it on purpose.”

My eyes widen and the urge of choking him again suddenly doesn’t feel so distant.

“WHAT?!”

He hushes me, looking at the door behind me.

“Oh, come on, we’re in a lunatics’ house. Talking to oneself isn’t unusual.”

He chuckles, visibly beaming. Did I just... make him laugh?, I think watching his face wrinkle in a pure happiness. I almost forget I was mad at him. Almost.

“So?”

“I’ve been observing your eye movements and microexpressions for weeks. You’ve been slowly opening and I knew you needed a trigger. And I know what triggers you easily, so...”

I think about the time we must have spent together. How well does he know me? Apparently, very well. Papers write a lot about his observing skills and deduction, so I assume he doesn’t need much to get to know somebody. I flash him a smile.

“Thank you.”

Instead of returning the gesture, he does something completely different. His cheerful mood fades away as he locks, almost stubbornly, his eyes with mine. I can count his eyelashes and see every speck in his blue irises. His pupils are wildly dilated. I’m close to forgetting about breathing.

He glances at my lips every now and then.

He leans forward a little bit but backs out in a second. My heart races so fast I’m sure it doesn’t go less than two hundreds beats per minute. And trust me, it’s a lot.

“So...” I whisper, not letting go of the gaze even for a microsecond. “What was the nature of our relationship before?”

“Not sexual,” he replies quickly.

I open my lips a little bit more.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” His voice is weak.

Something new and forgotten wakes up in my body. I feel a pleasant tingling in my lower back and a heat radiating from his skin. My hands are surprisingly hot as I move one of them upwards the left side of his chest. He glances at my palm but gets back to my eyes immediately. My head is so loud with wild visions.

I surrender to the urge and lock my lips with his. They’re soft and it feels like I haven’t done this in ages. He’s tense, not a muscle in his body moves. I throw my hands around his neck but his hands are stiff. I feel like an assailant. I don’t want to force him into anything but he definitely returns the kisses. It looks like he restrains himself.

I tangle my fingers into his dark curls. He closes his eyes a bit tighter and exhales softly. He definitely represses his emotions.

“Oh, come on, just give in already.”

He’s still tense for another three seconds and he finally gives up. His hands land on my waist. His embrace tightens and his mouth opens wider. He lets out a soft moan when one of my legs clenches around his hip. His touch wanders across my back, my hair, my face. He grabs my buttocks and lifts me up, so I can clench the second leg around him. When I feel his hands on my bottom, I utter a pretty loud groan. I am out of control of my body again but this time it’s different. I feel the pleasure of being taken over by it and I voluntarily surrender. I let the heat control me. I like the wild person I am right now.

His kisses slide down on my neck and turns dangerously further, into my neckline. I lean back my head, savouring the moment, the life that has woken up in my body. I definitely have troubles breathing evenly.

He lets go of me and I stand on my bed again, but the kissing doesn’t stop. I take the opportunity and slide my hand down his belly and into his trousers. He stops, looking at me questioningly.

“You really aren’t yourself,” he murmurs.

I let out a quiet giggle.

The door suddenly creaks and my hand find its way out of his pants.

“Mr Holmes, what do you think you’re doing?!” An older nurse looks at us, disgusted.

“Getting physically intimate with the patient, I’d say,” he replies and I try to hide my chuckle.

“This is a hospital, not a dirty motel! It’s inappropriate!” she yells as she comes closer. “And you shouldn’t even be here!”

He steps back from my bed and I sit on it. The nurse flashes me a disapproving look while taking my blood pressure. Not a great timing for this particular measurement, though. He goes in circles around the room; I suppose he has something to walk off. The nurse writes down the result on my patient’s chart and shakes her head but leaves without a word.

But the mood is gone. Once the nurse gets out, he locks his eyes with me but I sense a different kind of tension. I guess he regrets getting carried away. I’m not saddened by this. It seems logical to me, although it really doesn’t.

I think back to the moment when he said not sexual. How can he love me and claim it’s not sexual?, the question pops into my head. Maybe I misunderstood it and he let me kiss him out of pity?

“You once said I loved you,” I speak up. “And that you loved me.”

He nods his head, standing opposite to the end of my bed.

“Yes. But we weren’t a couple,” he replies.

I frown.

“Why?”

He stares. Unpleasantly.

“It’s a long story.” His reply is almost hissed through his gritted teeth.

“I’ve got all the time in the universe.”

He gazes at me expressionlessly. I think he’s calculating the risk or tries to introduce the story the shortest way possible. Somehow, it also seems obvious to me. He comes one step closer.

“I have a sister named Eurus. She’s highly intelligent and even more dangerous. She’s locked up in a institution built for people like her but she’d managed to turn the entire staff there to be her slaves once. She lured me, my brother Mycroft and John Watson there to execute her very cruel plan. Long story short, I had to go through a series of tests, each one of them requiring my emotional engagement. And I’m not really an affectionate person.” It sounds weird since he’s obviously very emotional. “One of my tests was you.”

I raise my eyebrows and he pauses for a minute.

“I’d been convinced that your flat was filled with explosives. Eurus said that she would blow you up if I didn’t make you say ‘I love you’.”

I love you. My heartbeat races, my vision gets a little unstable. I feel a little bit dizzy.

“But you asked me to say it first. To say it like I meant it-“

“Stop it.”

I’m unable to look in one direction for longer than a second. The room dances around me. I clench my fingers on the both sides of my bed. I feel sick and I’m pretty sure I’m going to vomit any minute. My breathing gets heavy.

“What’s going on?”

It feels like I’m going to faint. I lean forward and press my forehead against the mattress. Oh, God, I’m going to throw up, I think in a complete panic.

Say it like you mean it. The colourful sweater, the telephone, the kitchen. I love you. My not-so-impressive stomach content gets closer to my throat.

“I said it then,” he resumes as if nothing happened. “I said and I meant it: I love you.”

I have to force myself into thinking about breathing, otherwise I would be long unconscious. I struggle with the vomit and his voice, his exact voice wanders around my head.

“I tried to make amends because you’re important to me,” I hear him from over my head. “You thought you weren’t important but you do count. You’ve always counted and I’ve always trusted you-“

“Get out.”

I lean over the edge of the bed, ready to get rid of my stomach content but this is not the moment. I sense his presence and therefore I raise my eyes to look at him. The view of him doesn’t make things better.

“I said: get out.”

His presence irritates me out of sudden. Every inch of his body I was touching a couple of minutes ago seems repellent to me, his voice is like the worst music possible. The scent of his cologne makes me even more sick. I look up at him, fury in my eyes again.

“I’ve choked you once before. What makes you think I’m incapable of doing it again?” I snap at him.

He flashes me an enigmatic glance and walks out of the room.

I throw up extensively and after that, I plop onto my bed, drifting away into unconsciousness.

#sherlolly #fanficition #sherlock holmes #molly hooper #sherlock x molly #molly x sherlock #screaming

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badbookreviewclub · 4 years

Text

Empress Theresa, Chapters 3 & 4

If you haven’t read Chapter 2, here is the the link. I recommend reading through this and Chapter 1 first before continuing on for the sake of continuity. These WILL contain spoilers, so if you’re not cool with that, don’t read it.

Chapter 3

Chapter 3 by far has to be one of the most boring chapters I’ve come across in this book. It took me forever to work through this chapter alone simply because of how boring I found the writing and the general story line of the chapter. Its sole purpose is to introduce a couple things, one being Theresa’s love interest, Steve, and how ‘interesting’ she is. Summary and Analysis: Theresa has finally moved on from her high school baseball career to attend Boston College, which Boutin, the author, constantly abbreviates to BC throughout this chapter. This abbreviation grows annoying rather quickly, considering that I don’t think the name of the college needs to be mentioned as often as it is. Aside from annoying abbreviations, this chapter is absolutely littered with a poor attempt to follow the story line Boutin seems to have loosely laid out throughout the book as well as piss poor logic. In chapter 3 we learn that Theresa is a whiny little bitch who thinks the amount of homework given to her is absurd despite the fact that there are plenty of college students out there who are handling it just fine. “The assignments I got in my classes seemed endless. Could anybody do all that work in a semester? (Pg 40)” This is Theresa’s first day of classes and she’s already getting upset over the amount of work she has to do. I don’t know about anybody else, but even with my higher level courses the amount of homework ramps up over the semester before the assignments become more manageable when finals start to draw near. Aside from complaining about her homework, we never even see Theresa do it once throughout the chapter. After her classes, rather than starting to work on this ‘endless’ amount of homework she has, Theresa relaxes in her room before a group of girls (I assume her roommates and not just random strangers - It’s never explicitly stated which one.) invite her down to the cafeteria. In the cafeteria, out of a “”long habit” Theresa started to look around the room. She notices pretty quickly that a group of ‘kids’ are staring at her. I tend to take issue with the fact that Boutin constantly refers to these college-aged adults as ‘kids’ simply because it throws you out of the story. Theresa wouldn’t refer to people the same age as her as ‘kids’ and the book is supposed to be written like an autobiography. Nonetheless, these ‘kids’ are staring at her and Theresa automatically picks two out to comment on in the book. “Mr. Intense,” who was looking at her intently, hence the name, and “Mr. Fast Move.” I have a slight problem with the name “Mr. Fast Move” simply because Theresa gave him this name before he even got up to introduce himself. Theresa somehow being omniscient is a problem through everything I’ve read up until this point and I’ve found it to be more and more annoying as I keep reading. Boutin also tends to have a really big problem with making Theresa assume the emotions and thoughts of other people. “One boy [Mr. Intense] was intently looking at me.... he was around six feet which was a good match for my five feet four inches. I liked taller guys and apparently he liked smaller girls (pg 40).” ‘Mr. Intense’ hasn’t even gotten up to talk with Theresa, nor will he for the next little while as far as I can tell. Yet, somehow, Theresa already knows his likes and dislikes and what he looks for in a potential partner. It doesn’t end there though, Theresa also goes on to continue and assume just what he is doing and thinking. “He wasn’t gawking at a pretty girl, or lusting for her body. He looked interested. And that’s ok. A girl gets used to being looked at (pg 40).” Aside from assuming what he’s thinking, there’s a lot of problems with this quote, enough so that I’m not sure where to being. Starting simple, I absolutely hate when authors write out ‘ok’ rather than ‘okay.’ It comes off as lazy to me. It only takes two more strokes of the key to add the ‘ay’ to the first two letters. Moving on to the next problem, Boutin never takes issue with the fact that someone may be looking at Theresa like an object, and Theresa never objects to that idea. She seems to be fine with the idea that someone is looking at her like an object or like a potential partner. Boutin never out right states that someone is looking at Theresa like an object as far as I’m aware, but it tends to be heavily implied throughout the book that Theresa is fine with that. Moving on from Theresa’s assumptions about ‘Mr. Intense’ for now though, ‘Mr. Fast Move’ obviously makes the first move. As stated early, Theresa gave him this name before he even got up to make the first move. She also keeps calling him this after he gives her his name, Jack Koster. To keep it short and sweet so you all don’t have to suffer as much, Theresa knows pretty soon into her and Jack dating that the two of them are not a good match and that their relationship won’t last. Yet, she continues to keep dating him and dragging him along. One day, when she goes down to his dorm because they have a movie at eight. Turns out, Jack has another girlfriend named Ginny from before college. Despite the fact that she knew her and Jack wouldn’t work out and was just dragging him along, Theresa still gets angry at him and wants to make him jealous. Jack says that he’ll talk to Theresa upstairs so she goes upstairs to wait for him. Before I go further, I just want to point out that Boutin wrote that there were six guys in Jack’s dorm waiting on him as well as Ginny. That’s a lot of people for a college dorm. Still chugging along, Theresa decides she wants to make Jack so jealous he’ll “throw Ginny out a window (pg 45).” Theresa says that there’s no chance that her and Jack will get back together, so I’m not quite sure what her logic is on this one. But she dresses in a “backless dress made of flimsy, cling material (pg 45).” The dress falls six inches above the knee, which “wasn’t a big deal these days, but to make it more interesting I folded back the hemline three more inches inside the skirt and taped it (pg 45).” I may just have short legs, but I measured how short this dress would be on myself, and this wasn’t even covering the bottom of my ass cheeks. Anyways, Theresa watches a movie which Boutin goes into way too much detail to describe and it’s just overly boring and pointless. Jack never shows up but surprise surprise, ‘Mr. Intense,’ better known as Steve at this point, does. At this point the dress has ridden up Theresa’s hips at this point and despite Steve’s clear discomfort with the whole dress situation, she makes no move to try and make it better even though he’s there to offer her comfort. We do get this banger of an exchange though (Pg 49): “You’re quite, Steve. Something on your mind?” “Yeah. I’m trying not to think about what I might see.” “I’m wearing a thong. You won’t see anything but my hip.” “And a nice hip it is, I’m sure.” Steve has had a total of maybe 5 words spoken up until this point but he’s already my favorite character solely from the line “And a nice hip it is, I’m sure.” Steve and Theresa’s relationship develops absurdly quickly from there and it’s almost at a worrying pace. After only about a month of dating, the two of them decide to get married. Father Donoughty, or as I lovingly refer to him, Father Dick Doughnut, convinces Theresa’s parents to let her marry Steve at the tender age of 18 and after only a month of dating because he is more than certain that their marriage won’t fail. Eventually her parents give in because “Discouraging it [the relationship] could do more harm than good (pg 54).” Theresa and Steve apparently have an absolutely amazing wedding and we get a lovely detailed description of what Theresa wore that I’m more than happy to share with all of you because it’s not in the slightest drawn out or excessive; “I was gorgeous as a recently turned eighteen year old. For the church service I wore a two piece wedding gown. A floor length wide skirt with spaghetti shoulder straps made from matte duchess stain. Over this I had a jacket made of peekaboo cotton Venice lace that more or less covered my shoulders and the top half of my upper arms so as not to scandalize the congregation. At the reception the jacket and train came off and my shoulders and cleavage charmed the crowd (pg 54).” This description just reminds me of the excessively long description of what Ebony was wearing in the all-time classic My Immortal. Nobody gives two shits just what Theresa was wearing and the comments about what she is wearing don’t even make sense. I don’t recall a congregation ever being ‘scandalized’ by a young woman having their shoulders exposed. I also don’t recall a crowd ever being ‘charmed’ by someones breasts and shoulders, or you know, I just live in a boring world where people don’t get dazzled by my boobs and my offensively sexy shoulders. As for the poor attempt for Boutin to continue the plot throughout chapter 3, in-between Theresa meeting Jake and then finding out about him cheating, Theresa is called into the campus police office because her ‘watchers’ were caught following her. Nothing really comes of this other than that we learn the Pope is paying for her tuition and finds her a ‘highly interesting’ case. The president also talks on the phone to the head of the campus police and tells them to pass along the message that they didn’t see anything happen, that they shouldn’t tell this to anybody, and that they should just forget about it. It’s a boring scene with boring dialogue and its rather pointless as well. If anything, it only serves to create more plot holes throughout the entire story. Chapter 4 So we got through the boring hell that was chapter 3, but what about chapter 4? It’s not better. Arguably it is so much worse. I can sum it up fairly simply for you. Theresa gets kidnapped by government men, she assumes they’re ‘Navy SEALS’ but calls them goons through the entire book. She’s then put on a plane with an atom bomb on it because I guess the president finally decided that he wanted her dead and yet nobody objected to this happening despite there being no evidence for her deserving this fate. Also her watchers just disappear in this chapter so I guess their presence in her life was just completely pointless. This may come as a surprise, but Theresa manages to get out with the stupidest solution ever and doesn’t die. This is the part where I should be celebrating her survival but all I can do is mourn the fact that she could have died but didn’t. If she did, the book would be over. Summary and Analysis: God, I really don’t want to summarize this chapter and point out things I hated in it but I will. This chapter was so overwhelmingly painful to read and mark down that I gave up towards the end and just started scribbling ‘No’ and ‘Why’ into the margins. Okay, rant over. Starting off, Theresa is on her way to go to the grocery store when a bunch of cars in front of her essentially make a barricade so she can’t get through. The people in the cars get out with their weapons drawn as a van pulls up behind her. Once more, Theresa’s omniscient knowledge kicks in and before the door to the van opens she already knows what the interior looks like. She gets into the van anyways without much of a fight and just willingly lets herself be kidnapped. They take her to a helicopter and fly for a long ass time. Eventually Theresa asks where they’re taking her and rather than telling her that it is classified information like they should, they basically tell Theresa that they’re taking her to an aircraft and that she’ll be killed. Rather than getting upset about this, the tears just well up in her eyes but she doesn’t break down into hysterics. As Theresa so eloquently puts it, “But I didn’t cry. I wasn’t a phony movie actress using hysterics to milk all the drama she could out of every moment. I was a real person and I didn’t give a damn what these kidnappers thought (pgs 57-58).” Theresa once more assumes emotions, and states that she must have impressed her kidnappers and won their admiration by not breaking down into hysterics. This is where she also guesses that they’re Navy SEAL despite having absolutely no proof of them being in that part of the army as of yet. Blah blah blah, Theresa decides to ‘wax poetic’ though she’s not being poetic at all and it’s just Boutin trying to fill in space so he can make his book longer. Somehow this chapter is even more boring and annoying than chapter 3 and shit is supposed to be happening here. I suppose Boutin is trying to make it intense, but it comes off as long winded and any sense of action of anxiety that may have been there is gone. In-between the long and boring moments of Theresa just observing things, she asks how she’s going to die and they tell her that she’s going to be loaded onto a plane with an atomic bomb. This is a problem for a lot of reasons, actually, and I’ll put them in a list for you: 1. This is a stupidly expensive way to kill someone 2. Theresa never stood trial for this and its not as thought it could have flown under the radar either. There is a shit ton of money being funneled into an atomic bomb and a plane that wouldn’t go unnoticed in the records. 3. Theresa’s watchers never showed up once despite having watched her grow up and seeing that she would never harm a fly. Yet here she has been declared a danger to national security. 4. All of the men who are escorting her to her death have no proof that she has done anything to be a threat to national security. As far as they’re aware, she’s an innocent eighteen year old girl. 5. The way that they’re going to kill her is cruel, inhumane, and excessive. Never in my life could I see anyone letting a president get away with ordering a death sentence like this. 6. Theresa never fucking stood trial for this shit. This wouldn’t just fly under the radar with congress. Believe it or not, but the President of the United States doesn’t have enough power to just order someone dead because they believe them to be a threat. Theresa would have to go through a trial first. I could see a coup happening in the United States before anyone ever let anything like this happen. These tend to be my problems with a majority of the chapter. To get into more specifics, Theresa says that she needs to think of a way to get out of this, but we never see her elaborate on a plan nor do we ever become clued in that she has come up with an idea. Instead, we, the reader, see her do some nonsensical bullshit. When they take her to an empty cafeteria to have her last meal, Theresa takes an empty garbage bag and fills it with exactly 11 coke bottles that at the time confused the living shit out of me. As it turns out, she’s going to empty out these coke bottles and shove them into her jumpsuit so she’ll be buoyant when she jumps from the plane before it can blow her up. This is some kind of bullshit five-minute crafts solution. It’s a stupid one and never in a million years could I ever see this working. Theresa also decides to reflect on her life and comes to the conclusion that her life as not significant and was incredibly boring. How wonderful for that the reader has to reader that when we could have come to that conclusion ourselves. We also learn that Theresa has had ‘no illnesses’ which seems like utter bullshit to me, but alright, go off Boutin. She also had a ‘mean’ dog growl at her once and suddenly she now has absolutely no love for dogs. I’ll let you interpret that one however you want. The night before she’s going to be executed, Theresa decides to reflect on her life thus far with Steve. This could have been a bittersweet moment where we truly get something emotion filled and with fond memories that we didn’t see. It’s not a bad idea to have her reflect on her loved one during what should be a very emotional time, yet all we do is get a recap of his experience with her last chapter. It’s boring and inspires no emotion from the reader. We could have learned something about Steve and how Theresa sees him and yet we don’t learn anything. What we do learn however, is that Theresa somehow has shit tons of knowledge about aircraft despite this never being mentioned before in the book. I don’t think she actually is supposed to be an aircraft nerd, I think that Boutin just forgot about that and started to write far too much that he learned about planes so he could share the information with everyone. It’s more confusing than not in the actual text though and draws away from the story, not that there was much to begin with. Also, somehow, refueling in flight will snap your neck if you don’t brace right according to Boutin. I did some light research and no, no it will not. Despite this, Boutin goes on for about two pages about how Theresa has to brace so it doesn’t snap her neck when they refuel mid-flight on their way to take her another boat so she can get on the plane with the bomb on it. Jesus christ the next few pages are just absolute hell. Theresa lands on boat. Captain of boat brought women onto top of boat. Thought the one being executed would be man and deserved to see women before he died. Strongly implies women are objects for men to look at again. One woman takes out her phone. She asks Theresa if she has anything she’d like to say. Dis bitch. Dis. fuckin. bitch. “I once read a famous quote by the Shawnee Indian Chief Tecumseh about singing a death song and going out like a hero. I had rewritten it for a more universal use, never dreaming that I’d use it myself so soon. ‘If people grieve your passing rejoice in the good you did and die like a hero going home. I feel good about who I was.’ (pg 68)” Not only is pulling your phone out to record someone who is about to be executed highly against probably all policies, but also, just... fuckin... if this situation were to ever happen in real life, this would be an absolute shit show of a situation. People are breaking rules left and right, nobody is obeying any sort of code of ethics or any kind of rules that were laid out for them. It’s just stupid. All of this chapter is just plain stupid and the logic is terrible. One of the people gives Theresa thermals because it’s going to be cold when she’s flying up and they insist that she gets oxygen and wears a mask. They do all of this for her despite the fact that in the end she’s going to get blown up and none of it matters. Nothing fucking matters in this book. After this though Theresa fucking jumps from the plane once it has taken off and is at an altitude of 54,140. The impact on the water alone would have been enough to kill her and yet it doesn’t. She just passes out when she hits in and then wakes back up. Now is when she starts to get cold and she passes out again. The entire time that the plane is climbing into the air and she’s falling before she hits the water is supposed to be an intense and action-packed scene. I get that’s what Boutin is trying to do in this last part of the chapter, but it doesn’t come across that way. It’s dragged out. It’s wordy and Theresa thinks way too much about other things for it to feel like it is supposed to be as intense as I think Boutin wanted it to be. It’s poorly written to put it simply, which really sucks because it’s the climax of the entire chapter and the most intense moment out of anything leading up to this point. End Alright that is the end of chapter 3 and 4. I don’t know when 5 to whatever chapter I decide is worth it will come out, but hopefully sooner rather than later so I can finish with this book. Chances are I’ll post a review for a different book in-between this one and the next so look out for that. I’ve got a few absolutely terrible books on their way that I’ll be receiving over the next month. The first one out of the batch I plan to review is someone’s fan fiction that they decided to publish called Insanity: Jeff the Killer simply because it’s 77 pages and after flipping through it, it’s already better than some of the shit I’ve read lately. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed and please feel free to follow and look out for more reviews of books. I hope I’m actually getting better at this review thing! Please feel free to leave any feedback and things you would like!

#empress theresa #chapter 3 #chapter 4 #bad book #bad book review #review #this was hell #someone please kill me #when will it end

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ayakashiramblings · 5 years

Text

Dawn and Twilight’s Social Media Accounts

Kuya

@NevermoreButSnore.

1230 followers.

Yes, I copied Edgar Allan Poe. Yes, I’m not sorry about the rhyme. Or calling him out.

Not that he really cares.

Insists that he is a headcanon creator on Twitter

Everyone who follows him knows that he is lying.

If we really had to classify him as a writer, it would one who posts those way-too-accurate posts about writers complaining about writing.

Like the notebook hoarding one. Not that anyone here in the fandom is guilty of that, haha... haha... ha.

Ironically is one of the more popular ones out of the whole group.

His flat responses and laziness are way too prominent to NOT be noticed.

If you actually tentatively sneak into his DMs though, for writing tips, he will patiently listen and... rather bluntly advise you.

It’s still advice though and is always the type to check out and reblog any short fanfics.

It just has to be weird, sporadic hours because he is the type to fall asleep with the phone on his face.

Koga Kitamikado

1230 followers.

@CapitalKayKay

Listen, there is a reason why a lot of successful businesses chose Instagram as their social media so Koga is no exception.

What makes his account stand out, as you can see from his rather cheeky username, is that he is willing to be an open book.

So he isn’t constantly shoving down any products he is sponsoring or whatever piece he is endorsing.

It’s more of genuinely wanting to hang out and explore what the world has to offer.

Whenever he posts a picture of the gang together, he’s the one tagging all of them, even the ones with hard usernames.

And there’s always a nice comment thanking whoever hosted the fun time or being appreciative of the area and the locals.

It helps that he has a sense of humour so the memes are always just the right amount of teasing but nothing too bad that will deter potential clients.

Because of his down-to-earth nature, he reels everyone in.

Uses the space to invite everyone following him on any celebration/casual outing.

The thing is... he has a lot of followers.

So... good luck.

Aoi

1150 followers.

@DeredArtTooTsun

Look, even he knows he is a Tsundere. It’s a small victory getting him to acknowledge that, let alone use it to brand himself here.

But god, he’s the man I’m most jealous of on Tumblr.

PERFECT BULLET JOURNALS AND SKETCHES.

Got the spreads that literally define ‘aesthetic’, a perfect lineup of art materials even with pencils that have their numbers faded, and somehow, the emotions can pass through the paper and screen.

Even does tutorials on perspectives, positions with cute annotations. Just don’t praise them for being adorable though and focus on improving your skills, dummy.

Ironically though, it’s his mindless vents that get the most number of notes.

It helps that the pics include him, a very cute... I mean... manly boy screaming at very, very hot men.

A bit baffled but whatever it takes to get commissions.

That’s right, he takes them. At least there is a back-up option should the restaurant ever go out of business.

Spoiler Alert: Still doesn’t get paid as much. People, have you seen the number of talented artists here? Aoi might be in the rankings but it’s still hard attracting business.

Support your fandom artists, everyone!

Ginnojo

1000 followers. Just nice.

Ginnojoz

Poor grandpa didn’t intend to put that extra ‘z’ letter, it was a typo because scales don’t get along with haptic touch.

And unfortunately, doesn’t understand how to change it.

Once, he was huge on Vine before it died. The end of an era that he has to witness again. RIP.

Gin-Gin, it is RIGHT. THERE.

Expect to find his super short self-defence videos and Book Club Readings on YouTube.

Girls actually appreciate his instructions and attempts to provide help even if they are alone.

He did try to respond to the nice ones and actually succeeds.

It’s always easier getting to know the language of women when you don’t really see/touch them.

A deep baritone is perfect for some sexy excerpt of a historical novel...

Until he corrects the setting.

In fact, he sometimes rage-quits and rewrites it.

Unlike Kuya, him doing those established ideas actually catches on.

Yura and Gaku

1500 followers.

MelodyandTheBeat.

... Tik-tokers. Tik-Tok people?

WTH do you call them?

As you can see, they are the most popular since it’s combined stardom.

Look, their covers and music mixes are beautiful.

They always have their own version that somehow combines traditional Japanese music... with k-pop.

And of course, food porn.

Just be grateful there isn’t that awful squelching sound you hear when you consume jelly or the breaking of chilli seeds.

Listen, I usually separate them because it’s never nice to be grouped as having the same activity as your twin.

But in this case, being both equally beautiful AND talented sells their uploads.

Even the cringy ones made because Yura is such a Luddite.

Like just turning his head and being amazed his hair can turn so many colours, being impressed with each tilt until he gets to a black shade.

Suddenly hurls the phone away. Gee, wonder why? Guess black isn’t the new... black for him?

Gaku sometimes even introduces new filters he created based on Yura’s random requests that strangely get circulated on the site.

Oji

550 followers all know Oji-Sanz

Unlike Ginnojo, he deliberately adds the ‘z’ letter to sound cool.

You wanna know what’s worse?

He actually uses Facebook.

Aoi decides to give up on him. Nobody blames the poor student.

It’s apparently some old form of social media? Never used it, no sirree.

Always changing his relationship status but at the end of the day, he’s single and ready...

To post about all the lovely ladies destined to enter his restaurant.

He thinks it’s great publicity.

It really isn’t but one good thing about Oji is he includes EVERYONE.

This man respects his customers and always helps advertise their wares, especially if their connections lead to more resources.

And less grocery shopping on his part.

Does post the recipes he and Aoi created but will never use because the Milk Hall had a certain style to follow.

Officially makes Aoi his son... on Facebook at least.

Aoi now tolerates the account.

Barely.

Toichiro Yuri

WhatheMeSay has 1231 followers!

In your face @CapitalKayKay and @NevermorebutSnore!!

You know, I’m so glad that there aren’t any users with those names because I’d be so scared of accidentally tagging them.

Also, geddit? Because... What the fox say?

Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding... yeah, I’ll stop.

Pinterest Guy. And actually does spend on his ‘hobby’ to show off to everyone.

It does boost you and your father’s sales so there is nothing to complain about.

His boards are always alliterated just to sound super catchy and it works so long as he gets the right emoji.

Kabuki plays better be promoted or else.

Filled with candid pictures of his victims all taken at different angles you didn’t know were possible and in varying degrees of hilariously misunderstood positions.

He even supplies a donation link, heavily leveraged by his followers, since there are incentives tied to it like early access.

A bit suspicious the photos look like cropped out parts from Koga’s posts and some of the text resembles Kuya’s... er... wisdom?

He takes an unholy amount of selfies when he thinks no one is looking and so they are always surprised upon finding them on the Selfie Board.

There is a locked board that no one can access, even his followers who are his comrades in real life.

It’s actually just one picture in there.

It’s you smiling and giggling at a joke of his. Not even you know it’s been taken. Guess he is as soft as his fur, eh? He better come out soon or else.

Kuro

Kuroruohtumbling

Ginnojo is unfortunately just old enough to have grown up with Scooby-Doo to understand the reference.

Snapchat, like a snapping snake! Hiss!

Unironically loves the puppy face.

Ok, but the glimpses of his stunts help show snippets of the circus life.

He and his whole troupe family will even don costumes best suited for certain filters.

Sometimes ropes in Ginnojo... and by sometimes, I mean enough for everyone to start wondering if the stoic man is part of the act.

To be fair, he randomly hugs people and ranks them here.

You, of course, were number 1.

Now, if only he didn’t use the bloody song to announce it but you forgive him.

Maybe even risks revealing his ayakashi form before deleting the message to you.

Loves making international fans and learning various languages through each post, sort of like flashcards but animated and more fun!

And with 1200 followers, he might become a polyglot like Koga.

Shizuki

Everyone bans him from creating one.

Because they know the power of his roasts is too great.

Little do they know he goes undercover.

Underground.

And under their noses.

That’s right. His rant town on... MySpace.

Unapologetically uses a good chunk of his salary from serving the House of Yuri just to get nifty themes that help with the whole burning process.

Look, there’s a reason he and Oji are friends.

This is why.

Their taste in women seems fine but we really have got to do something about their affinity towards DEAD PLACES.

To be fair, he made the whole thing drunk but that doesn’t mean he should maintain it SOBER.

He just feels that it is a waste of space if he doesn’t utilize it.

And it also becomes kind of cathartic. From the intrusive hugs to his master and Sir Gaku irking each other to no end, he needs it.

Zero followers... but only because it’s super private.

It becomes 1 the moment you jokingly create an account.

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ouranimeyeah · 4 years

Text

Lesean Thomas’ Yasuke- Concerning yet Invigorating.

Note: I am a long standing supporter of Lesean Thomas’s work and I bear no ill will to his production but I felt I needed to say something. Take it as you will, it’s more so the ravings of fan exploring their opinions and ideas not a direct attack on Thomas or his work which are all note worthy pieces of art with their flaws and all!

Okay It’s no surprise after my thoughts on Cannon busters were laid bear and my extreme excitement for Children of the Either readily apparent, that I would have something to say about Thomas’ new project coming to Netflix “Yasuke”. There isn’t much known or needed to be said about the project other then it’s going to be awesome to get a new project by Thomas, and that there are Black samurai involved. Cool right? Well yes and no.

Lesean Thomas is a creator that I respect and empathize with. Being the only black guy in the anime industry pumping out his own content i’m sure there has been tons of red tape in the realm of production that gets in the way of everything he makes. And yet he still managed to release 2 projects. I have been following Thomas’ for quite some time and his work has been exciting when it comes to the build up of hype, but sadly don’t deliver fully on the promises made in promotional material. Which could be considered my fault on account of me putting my expectations so high with him being the first black animator in years to formulate his own projects and get them green-lit (as far as my knowledge is concerned). It makes sense to have clear issues with his other works if I do because they have already been released and possibly even finished. Of the two works he actually managed to get on the big screen one is a completed project while the other is a pilot that seemingly died in production hell. I had a preference for his Children of the Either series (over Cannon Busters)because it showed an incredible understanding of character animation and had some really interesting concepts that I was hoping to see fleshed out more. All the while managing to have an aesthetic very reminiscent of my favorite anime while not 100% feeling liking a bone dry rip off. Cannon Busters by contrast was a hodge podge of different anime references with some very in your face and hand fisted themes which broke my immersion from time to time. It’s aesthetic was inconsistent, at times the animation would relatively nice and then be followed up by what would look like a bad episode of teen titans. I never found it in my soul to find the series as lazy, just slightly misguided in it’s production. Ineffectively allocating skillful animation and art design for scenes less relevant to the plot; having dialogue sequences that very blatantly explain things with no form of nuance; and a handful of other minor attributes that made the series kind of a slug through most of the central part of the show and even had slower elements carry onto the the end. All in all it was a decent series however, and had enough charm and pazaaz to it to the point where i could never in my right mind give the series a lower score then a 6/10, I gave it a lucky 7. Which brings me to my pre existing fears and concerns when it comes to Yasuke.

The fundamental element of Yasuke’s promotional information that strikes me as daunting and a little cynical is the fact that the show is going to be a quote: “Magic Samurai Robot Anime” (according to vice: https://www.vice.com/en_us/article/vbammy/new-netflix-anime-lakeith-stanfield-pacific-rim-altered-carbon-yasuke-vgtrn). Now before anyone comes yelling at me to ring my neck I must first start out establishing something. For one, a Mecha magic series has already been done by Thomas in Cannon busters, which I would argue was his weakest element of the series. The technology and magic system of his story never was fully fleshed out in an interesting way and while there is a lot of mystique I feel like those elements would take away especially when it comes to the samurai/chanbara genre. Which leads me to my second point, samurai anime are surprisingly rare! AAANNNNDD I am talking about strictly samurai. Hardcore, balls to the wall, classic samurai political drama stories being depicted in anime. The last I checked the only popular samurai anime have been Rurouni Kenshin, Samurai Champloo, Dororo, Sengoku Basara, Afro Samurai (which is good but relies heavily on modern sensibilities) and Gintama. Among these the only one that truly explores the culture of samurai in any way is Dororo, and that element takes a back seat in favor of the supernatural elements. MECHA SAMURAI HAVE ALREADY BEEN DONE BEFORE, and i would argue that those two genre’s should stay separate until we get enough anime depicting samurai authentically. Or at least like an old Japanese samurai film the likes of Ran or Kagemusha! Samurai 7 is a thing guys and while it had it’s interesting elements by in large it lacked one of the fundamental elements that made samurai stories exciting and that was one on one samurai fights (outside of the fight between Kanbei and Kyuzo). Samurai have become a novelty, people assume the genre is generic for japanese culture, but it’s rare in the medium of animation that they are depicted with the same level of reverence and relevance as they are in live action film and T.V. shows. I am disappointed that the next samurai series that is going to be green-lit by an individual I look up to so much is gonna play it safe by making another novelty samurai series with giant mechs and magic. In the time were Yasuke ventured to Japan the actual political climate is so invigorating that you DON”T NEED GIANT MECHS TO PUSH THE ENTERTAINMENT VALUE. I know mechs are an aesthetic choice I get it. But honestly, they take away some fundamental attributes so integral to the entertainment value of the samurai genre and I would think that is something that is important. All in all foregoing an interesting historical war drama with the potential to have slight supernatural elements in favor of sci fi feels like something that is starting to become boring and slightly overdone when it comes to samurai. The amount of anime that are actually about samurai that are popular in the west are few and far between and there are very few samurai series being produced now that cover Sengoku period japan. If Lesean Thomas sees this know I mean no ill will, I am only stating my personal opinion as a fan of your work. Please try something else. you can still have the hip hop aesthetic with flying lotus, you can have Lakeith Stanfield play his voice actor. But please, make an authentic samurai experience that placates to the trappings and best attributes of the genre. Because we as a society are in dire need of something of that calibre. We have gotten to a point were so many anime that are being produced stray far away from the source of what makes samurai so fascinating and entertaining to watch. And if you don’t want to draw on that fine. But don’t stop me if I want to create my own Yasuke anime.

@leseanthomas

Love you work

Keep it up !

#lesean thomas #opinion #rant #sorry for the rant #my rants #samurai #yasuke #blacksamurai #netflix

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caledfwlchthat · 5 years

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Characters: John Egbert, Dave Strider, Karkat Vantas Ships: John/Dave/Karkat, John/Dave, Dave/Karkat, John/Karkat Other Tags: Post-Retcon Meteor, Dream Bubbles, Internalized Homophobia, Internalized Xenophobia, Closets, Coming Out, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Ashen Romance | Auspistice, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Troll/Human Sloppy Makeouts, Polyamory Negotiations, Pillow & Blanket Forts, Fat Vriska Jokes, Unreliable Narrator, References to Depression Rating: Not Rated

Hi followers, now that Polyswap reveals are out (a few days ago now), I can fess up to writing this 20 kw JohnDaveKat thing about making out in literal supply closets, that I wrote for @cassandraooc (check out her art and AO3, she’s tops!). Shout-out also to @katreal-fic for her help as a sounding board and general pompoms while I was writing this.

R^4 fans: this was my May/June, I have not forgotten you! But if you like all the dream bubble romance and the awkward poly negotiations Rose and Kanaya have been having about Dave, you might give this one a look too.

Process discussion (as best as I can recall it) under the cut, as with other swap assignments I’ve done, for anyone who’s interested in the (long, spoilery) story of what the hell I was thinking exactly when I wrote this thing.

So my giftee’s prompts were -- by her own admission -- written in a bit of a sleep-deprived haze (I had to laugh as I read them, haven’t we all been there at some point, I know I lost some sleep over mine). We were each required to provide between three and six prompts for polyships (3-6 characters each) that we wanted to see depicted in gift fic or art. Cassandra’s OT3 was JohnDaveKat, which sported a string of elaborate sub-prompts (“medievalstuck!”, “soulmates!”, “haunted house!”, etc.) -- along with an invite to not use any of those and just write whatever I felt like. Other prompts for Dave/Sollux/Karkat, Jane/Callie/Roxy, and Rose/Kanaya/Jade were basically completely open-ended.

I’m trying to remember exactly how I seized upon the idea I ended up executing. Although some of my other works feature polyships, such as Kankatrezi (The Cafe Mocha Caper) and Daverosemary (foreshadowed in R^4), the process of how they got together is important for me in ways that I don’t care about as much for canon ships. I felt some resistance to just picking one of the ships and starting to write it as if it was already established. Also, people who know my writing know that I like to stick close to in-game or post-game AUs, or at least the broader Homestuck setting, rather than non-game AUs or other settings that remove the characters from the context that made them who we recognize them to be. So I was going to need some runway and a satisfying premise to run along it with. But by golly, if Cassandra wanted JohnDaveKat, she was gonna get JohnDaveKat.

The JohnDaveKat prompt I personally found most hilarious and awesome was

John gets turned into a Trickster, and finds Karkat and Dave. In the ensuing candy fueled mess, a lot of pent up emotions and secret crushes get revealed, including Dave realizing and admitting that John was probably his first crush on another boy though he was in denial at the time, and Karkat admitting that his own pitch crush for John never went away. (For his part, John finds out that he might, in fact, be a bit of a homosexual.)

Another JohnDaveKat prompt that turned out to figure in heavily later with the work I ended up producing was

John decides to surprise Dave and Karkat with a visit, only to find them already *quite* busy. Before he can think of what to do or do enough thinking at all to leave, he gets caught, and Dave notices evidence of interest, knows Karkat's still got some pitch feelings, and has some of his own, suggests maybe John stay a bit and they talk over some things and maybe do other stuff later too.

Going with Earth C could also bring the Epilogues material into play, and I briefly toyed with an Epilogues-related scenario that could score multiple polyships at once, before remembering that the Epilogues are hugely polarizing and maybe I want to be double sure about my giftee before giving them such a gift in a fan swap. A combination of Tumblr-stalking, re-reading the prompts and discreet inquiries showed that my idea wasn’t going to work, largely because Ultimate Dirk is a legendary piece of shit and his presence over against End-Of-Act-7 Dirk would cause real friction with Cassandra’s requests -- which leaned fluffy and offered bonus points for “DirkJake” and “Dirk and Dave being good bros who love each other”. Maybe I could have just done something similar in a separate Earth C AU without a lot of the Epilogues baggage, but by that point the specific discarded spin on the idea had so thoroughly colonized my brain that I just had to ease the whole thing carefully onto the shelf. I’d still be keen to write that other fic sometime. Just not for this particular fill.

So, I took a break for a few days before revisiting the prompt and asking what else I could do. When I think of John, Dave, and Karkat together, my mind goes immediately back to the “EVERYBODY STFU, I HATE YOU BOTH ETC” memo, in which Karkat tries to dissuade Dave and John from encouraging Terezi’s and Vriska’s flirtations, respectively. This convo is burned into my head because I’ve VA’ed it -- I draw a lot of inspiration for character dialogue from the time I’ve spent doing goofy voiceovers for them. And there is a lot of grist for the mill here: Karkat alluding to his pitch crush on John, Dave making fun of Karkat for being gay (while not realizing or admitting how he might be projecting), John being totally clueless about whether he’s attracted to Vriska. All of these are compatible with the “pent-up emotions and secret crushes” Cassandra asked for, and favors Dave <3 Karkat <3< John as a baseline.

Now, one of the reasons I love writing dream bubble fic is because I am fundamentally lazy. I can basically use any canon Homestuck pesterlog as a prompt and run with it. So that’s what I did here. In the moment that they realize that it’s a dream, the participants are forced to reckon with the way dream bubbles respond to their innermost thoughts. Deep desires manifest in weird ways; emotional distances contract, go non-Euclidean. Despite this, the association with dreams simultaneously offer a layer of abstraction or remove to Dave and Karkat -- allowing them to access and slake those deep desires without having to take responsibility for it, either with themselves or each other, during waking hours. In that sense, John opening the closet is like walking in on them a second time -- the dream bubble itself is their main outer closet, and they already know the jig is up when John diverts the pesterlog down Memory Lane. This then raises the question of whether they might have wanted John to discover them, deep down? Perhaps John’s convenient remembering is a sort of wish-fulfillment dream summoning.

From there I already sort of had the fic’s contours and decided it would be best written from John’s POV. The other nice thing about the dream bubble setting was that it let John participate even during the meteor journey, when Dave and Karkat must have been messing around trying to reverse-engineer their own sexual preferences. How gay is Dave, and how troubled is he about it at this point in his history? How does he feel about John finding out? Does Karkat somehow have some symmetrical hangups that leave him struggling as much as Dave, or is he just a giant crab? (The literal vs metaphorical closet thing was accidental at first, but once I discovered that I ran hard with it.)

There were still some problems I struggled with, such as how to get John to fall for Karkat pitch-ways when he’s said in canon that he isn’t gay, and when Karkat has said in canon that he’s not pitch for John anymore. The second problem is easily dispatched by pointing out that Karkat isn’t a reliable narrator of his own preferences, by construction. As for the first -- John might be no Casanova, but he loves his friends and is fiercely loyal to them, and he also saves his anger for either really important moments (like his GAME OVER fight with Caliborn) or utterly trivial moments (like Con Air not being as good as he thought). This seemed like a good place for the former. Once that was laid out, the trio coalesced nicely -- Dave and Karkat need John to keep them honest, and John needs Dave and Karkat to keep him anchored. John <> Dave and Dave c3< (John <3< Karkat) were dynamics that just showed up on their own.

The interpretation of the ending is left open, but the other difficulty I left unresolved is the timeline mismatch between pre-retcon and post-retcon, and the question of which John it was exactly that showed up in Dave and Karkat’s shared dream. Pre-retcon Davekat didn’t happen because Dave and Karkat were fighting over Terezi, but post-retcon John died in the explosion of LOWAS and couldn’t live happily ever after having so gloriously enabled post-retcon Davekat. And I wanted them to live happily ever after. The two most obvious interpretations I could think of were (a) the three are all on Earth C and dreaming together of each other -- or, more poignantly, (b) pre-retcon John is starting to integrate some of post-retcon dead!John’s memories. The second possibility leads in the direction of Ultimate John (what would that even be?) so I made sure to place the ending in a time frame that gives the Epilogues a miss -- although the background DirkJake also signals that this is probably an AU that diverges after the ACT 7 victory.

All in all this was really fun to write! There were lots of other great prompts in the collection, but the ones that grabbed me looked like they would spawn more 20-30 kw novellas and I need to get back to my poor neglected serial! I’m looking forward to making my way through the treats that others posted, eventually adding some of my own, and of course going through Cassandra’s other stuff. (Maybe that awesome fantroll Friendsim project will be the next thing to eat my life after this.)

#homestuck #homestuck fanfic #dave strider #karkat vantas #john egbert #johndavekat #metablogulation #pswap 2019 #fic challenge debrief

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selphiahaven · 6 years

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Rune Factory 4 is my favorite game ever. The only thing I'd change is to have more interactions with Venti before she goes comatose. Like I'm supposed to give my life for her when I'm barely at 2 hearts? Really takes away from the story to me.

LET’S! TALK! ABOUT! VENTI!!

Dude I love this game like 5,000 percent but it does definitely have its flaws. I especially think there’s a l o t of lot potential that was lost with Ven and her relationship with the plot, but let’s focus on the issue you’re addressing: her going comatose without much a relationship with her. I totally agree. Let’s talk about it. LET’S A L L TALK ABOUT IT.

I’ll start with my long-ass opinion, but I wanna hear how y’all think about this. Because anon’s criticism is juicy. I wonder if other people would have ideas on how this could be better handled / if it even could be better handled than it is now.

Spoilers down below, so… Yeah, be warned about that.

I could make the argument that RF4’s plot is inherently flawed in design for the emotional weight that it’s trying to convey. Rune Factory 4 has an interesting dynamic where the “filler” is pushed into town events, where we can learn about all the different characters and their interactions before, after, or even during important scenes of the plot. Hell, you can participate in a festival and then decide to kick Ethelberd’s ass just to pass some time.

For some, this might be a good thing. On the other hand, you can clear through the game pretty quickly if you’re not dedicated to witnessing all the town events and hearing all the dialogue and participating in all the activities. Keep this in mind: the game expects us to believe that Frey/Lest would friggen sacrifice their life so that Leon can escape the Forest of Beginnings at the end of the first arc. This is how deep our relationship with Venti is supposed to go. Venti, however, remains comatose at the end of Obsidian Mansion until that moment. So given that, our relationship with Venti is supposed to be deep enough that we would sacrifice ourselves by the end of Obsidian Mansion; as we cannot converse with her after this point up until Leon is rescued. Frey/Lest refers to Venti personally after they have sacrificed themselves too, so it should be assumed that Frey/Lest did this act primarily for Ven’s sake, not necessarily for any other specific person in Selphia.

This immensely strong relationship doesn’t really seem warranted with such a quick plot in place. Keep this in mind: the first few playthroughs on Youtube finished Obsidian Mansion on the dates of Summer 4, Spring 29, and Spring 15. You COULD try and just mill around or experience the town to avoid the plot, but there are barriers: 1) At first, you’re only allowed one request a day, so you can’t occupy much time with that 2) Town events actually take a long time to trigger; you could wait uneventful day after day and not trigger anything at all. 3) Things like crafting and forging need objects that you can only find in dungeons as you progress the game, so you can’t bide your time trying to level up / get cool new armour/weapons either. At the same time, this game really, really shouldn’t push us to slow down by making some of these “extracurriculars” mandatory (Imagine the frustration if you could only progress the plot via way of “Memories” again and again).

So here’s the difficult question: How do we make Ven interact with the player more, earlier on in the story, without making the plot too long or too boring?

I was super interested in trying to think up with potential ways to fix a problem like this, so they are listed below. They may come with their own set of problems, but hey, it was fun to think about what could have been. These are all just casual suggestions, not meant to be taken seriously at all.

1) Trigger a town event with Venti early on. Like, within the first few days of playing. Remember “Shiny Memories”? Funnily enough, that was one of my first events triggered in my very first playthrough of this game. Seeing Ven save Doug from being a fukkin dork and falling off that roof really made me feel closer to Ven early on in game. It was definitely confusing later on though, when Doug got all pissy about Ven killing his village or something. I couldn’t believe Doug for a second because Ven had already shown kindness to him without need of recognition, so… Maybe making different, very casual, town events that don’t make me doubt the plot would be a plus.

2) Make a sidequest or two. What if Amber’s dungeon wasn’t the first dungeon you could go to? Or, even better, what if there was some kind of dungeon / area / plotpoint in the first arc that hints at what’s to come in the second arc? (Another big complaint of mine about this game is that Ethelberd seems to come right the fuck outta nowhere. But that’s a complaint for another time.) I’m just spitballing here, but having a few dungeons that are “just for fun” or even just to slow down the plot a bit could be a benefit; as long as they aren’t used in excess. Benefits could include rare crafting materials, or strong pets to use in plot battles. This might give players a few more days of interacting with Venven, thus, getting closer to her over time.

3) Swap the “Freeing Guardians” plotline with the “Finding Rune Spheres” plotline. In the first arc, we seem mostly concerned with saving the guardians, and then finding the rune spheres, and then saving Leon and finishing the first arc. What if you searched for the Rune Spheres first (Perhaps with a, hint hint, few more dungeons instead of using the ones the guardians are in?)? Picture this: Frey/Lest finds a sphere, and feels that it’s…very familiar, and very important, for some reason. But…What’s that? The sphere looks as if it’s kind of broken! As if there are other pieces missing… Aha! Maybe if you find the missing pieces, you could remember something! You go a-searchin’, and by exploring new dungeons, you have more time with Ven, and eventually stumble upon Amber by mistake.

4) Be risky with Ven’s relationship to the town. What if Venti resting on her ass and deciding not to be involved with the town’s affairs causes some unrest in Selphia? Not suggesting blatant fighting or anything, but basically like… People wondering why she can’t use her powers to help out people and make her town prosper? Maybe not having everyone like “Omg Ven!!! We love Ven, Ven’s so nice and loooove her 1000%” in the beginning. It’s cute and all like this, but like… What if Doug used her “laziness” to form a basis to his flawed logic? What if Venti was rumoured to have the power to, I don’t know, cure Blossom? Ven knows she totally can’t cure Blossom. If she was more powerful, maybe the runes in the Earth would make Selphia a healthier living space for Blossom?? I don’t know. But like. What if. What if Venti used to do all this shit to help the town, but slowly stopped. What if people think she’s just lazy. What if people don’t think she’s an angel 24/7. I mean, I get it. She’s a god. Before she was revealed to have a “cute side” to her, everyone thought she was this hard-ass or smth. But I mean. You can view your bosses or your teachers or your parents as people to admire, but still have complaints with them. You can love someone and still not understand some of their quirks. Ven could be a mysterious figure early on. Generate some interest about who she is or why she is. Then, when we actually are told “oh ye lol I was getting weaker all this time” it’s not completely out-of-the-blue because we WANTED to know more about her, because so many things already seemed strange about her.

5) Add some drama. Speaking of Blossom, why don’t Venti and Blossom have a tragic relationship? A heartbreaking relationship where only time will tell which one of them lives longer than the other? Make. Venti. Weak. Why CAN’T Venti show signs of weakness even before Amber is released? Picture this: In the beginning scenes, Ven shows off some of her power to Frey/Lest. Could be something fukkin basic; I dunno. Let’s use what’s shown in Shiny Memories as an example: Ven can use the wind to make people float a lil bit. Cool. That’s established. Few days pass, and the event Shiny Memories triggers. Ven DOES NOT help Doug, and he gets hurt. Frey/Lest confronts Ven, and wonders why she didn’t help him?? Ven tries to make up a lie, to show off that she isn’t as weak as she seems. When, in reality, she’s losing power and couldn’t help him at that time. Don’t want Doug getting hurt? What about an event where Frey/Lest just simply asks Ven to use her powers to help them reach a cup or smth from a high shelf. Ven grows weak, starts breathing heavily and struggling to maintain herself just by trying to use that simple magic, even though she claims to you that she’s fine. Here, Frey/Lest makes a promise to help Ven with whatever they are suffering with, but then Ven admits there’s nothing in Selphia that can help them recover. Frey/Lest acknowledges that this means that there must be something outside Selphia’s walls that could help Ven, and THAT’S when they decide to go to Amber’s dungeon.

6) Slightly change some of Ven’s dialogue. Venti has always seemed like a best-friend type of character to Frey/Lest. This would make sense if she was a goddamn marriage candidate (which she isn’t, ugh, I might get over this, one day), but since she isn’t, why not change her dialogue to be more motherly? “Frey/Lest, you’re doing such good work on the farm! I’m so proud of you!” or “Are you sure you’re eating enough? Please, take this.” or even like “I know this is a lot of work for you, please take some days to rest.” These are really cliche lines, but like, I hope you get the point I’m trying to make. A lot of Ven’s dialogue is really playful, which kinda makes sense since Frey/Lest is the only one to see the “real her”. But…at the same time, I can imagine us getting way more protective over someone who actively has been telling us to take care of ourselves over and over again. Ven kinda tells you to take care of yourself, sometimes, but there are times when she seems to be a bit… I dunno. A tsundere type, for lack of a better term? I mean, I think tsunderes are cute and all, Dylas’s dialogue is some of the funniest in game, but it’d be hard to convince someone to sacrifice their life for Dylas and only give them a month to get to know him, you feel? Meanwhile, I would murder ten people for Clorica. That’s not really on topic but it’s definitely a fact.

Who knows. Maybe the developers thought of these options and decided on this route because the other directions this plot could’ve taken had their own issues that couldn’t be solved. It’s fun to think of what could have been though. Highly recommend trying it.

#Admin Talk #Asks

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pandamega · 6 years

Text

Up In Flames [Ch. 1]

AO3 | FF.net (not a new fic, just never uploaded it to tumblr)

AU. Marco/Ace. Arson investigator Ace finds himself working on a case with police detective Marco, linking a string of arsons to a web of organized crime that pulls them in deeper than they ever wanted.

Thick, stifling streams of smoke climbed out of the charred and crumbled debris and clung heavily to the air. The crooked, skeletal rebar climbed out of the collapsed concrete like bones escaping flesh, and the blackened remains of wood and cloth scattered ashes into the wind.

“How many dead?”

“Three.”

“Damn.”

Flashing blue and red lights illuminate the night, reflecting off of the surrounding midcentury colonial houses and one pile of smoldering rubble, barely maintaining the shape of what once was a home.

“How many house fires is that this month?”

“Too many.”

When the firefighters cleared the scene, one man from the fire department stayed behind, a tall, dark haired man with a splash of freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose under a thick layer of ash. He surveyed the damage, taking mental note of the burn patterns, the way the structure crumbled, the burn path. He circled the entirety of the decrepit property before entering the charred remains.

Outside, two police detectives interviewed neighbors and witnesses. One man, dressed in a posh white suit with a swirl of fashionable auburn hair and a goatee, comforted a sobbing woman gently while she described what she had seen.

“It all happened so fast, I smelled smoke from my bedroom and though my husband left something on the stove, but when I looked out the window I saw fire coming out of the neighbors house. I just… I was so stunned! I called 911 and the fire department arrived, but by then the roof had already caved in, I couldn’t believe how fast a house could just burn down… and the neighbors! Oh, it’s just terrible,” she sobbed.

The other officer, a tall man with a tuft of yellow hair on the top of his head and lazy eyes nodded in understanding, writing down her description in his notebook.

The detectives let the woman go back into her home and turned towards the blackened rubble.

“Hard to believe that used to be a house,” the white suited man said to his partner.

“Yeah.”

A dust-covered man emerged from the skeletal remains of the house, brushing ash from his clothes, and approached the two men with a somber look.

“Who wears white to a house fire?” the dusty man commented.

With a chuckle, the man replied, “Name’s Thatch. You must be the arson investigator.”

“That’s me, call me Ace,” he replied, extending a dusty hand which was promptly taken by the other detective in a firm handshake, drawing his attention to the blonde, lazy-eyed man.

“Nice to meet you Ace, I’m Marco. I’ll be the lead detective on this case,” the blonde detective said, locking eyes with the arson investigator in an intense gaze. The intensity was stirring and Ace felt his immediate, engaging presence and found it to be energizing. The contrast of that energy to the calmness of his features was captivating.

“What did the neighbors say?” Ace asked the detectives.

“They all agreed it happened very fast. One minute they notice flames in the windows. When the fire department arrives at the scene the roof has already collapsed, and just minutes later the place is rubble,” explained Marco.

“That sounds about right,” the arson investigator hummed. “This wasn’t an accidental fire. I’ve collected some samples to bring to the lab.”

“Was it the same as the other fires?” Thatch asked, referring to the previous fires that month.

Ace shook his head, “No, the trouble is all the fires were started differently; different incendiaries, different accelerants. I can’t link them by method.” He brushed a hand through his hair, causing a drift of ash and dust to fall to his shoulders. “But I have this gut feeling, something’s going on, and this isn’t going to be the last fire like this we put out.”

When the detectives got back into the car Thatch smirked to his partner from the passenger seat, “that arson investigator huh? He’s totally your type.”

“Shut it Thatch,” the blonde rebuked.

“I saw the way you took that handshake, damn, you were not gonna let me touch him first.”

“Come on man, people just died, show some respect and stop talking about my love life for once.”

His partner shrugged, “people die every day in this line of business. But you don’t run into an ass like that every day. You get his number?”

“Of course I got his number, dipshit, we’re gonna be working together,” Marco snapped, but he was smiling. His good natured partner took every chance to tease him but they could never stay mad at each other.

Back in his office Ace felt like one of those wild conspiracy theorists with his wall of arson evidence. The investigator was a visual person and needed his information out where he could see it to visualize the way the pieces went together. He new there were pieces missing, but he felt like he was so close to solving this thing, cracking it open. This was the third arson this month, different MO each time, yet in his gut he knew they were connected, and he knew there were more to come. And today he had met the third pair of police detective he would be working with. Couldn’t they assign one guy to the arsons instead of having him running between six different people to convey his findings? He felt like he was at his wits end. At least the one blond detective seemed very serious. Perhaps they would actually make some progress on this one. Ace was working overtime, all the time, and his little brother was getting frustrated with him. He hated doing this to Luffy. Sure, the kid was fiercely independent, but Ace had moved back East for the sole purpose of spending more time with him.

He rubbed at his eyes. On top of everything, his narcoleptic ass hadn’t been getting enough sleep. Leaning back in his chair, Ace felt himself floating in and out of consciousness and was about to pass out right then and there when his phone rang, jolting him out of his sleeping spell.

“This is Ace,” he answered,

“Hey, it’s Marco, the detective from the arson case today.”

“Oh Marco, you’re working late.”

There was a chuckle on the other end of the line, “Did I wake you?”

Ace laughed awkwardly, “You caught me.”

“My bad, sleeping beauty.” Marco continued before Ace could reply to the comment, “I was thinking about what you said, about how you think these cases are connected, I’d like to hear more about that. You free for coffee some time tomorrow?”

This is something Marco liked about his work, he could casually ask people on dates without actually asking them on a date.

“Mmm, Sleeping beauty huh. You’ve clearly never seen me sleep,” Ace laughed, “How is noon tomorrow? Not the Starbucks but that coffee shop on the corner with the couches.”

“I know the one, I’ll see you there at noon,” Marco was grinning, he liked this Ace guy already.

Notes: updates will be slow ahaha sorry

#marco x ace #marco/ace #one piece #fanfiction #fanfic #pandawrites

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bartok-not-bartalk · 5 years

Text

This Was Commissioned By the Vampire

On Modern Mythology

Just because paganism isn’t a largely accepted term anymore, humans have always, and will always continue to be polytheistic, it’s just that these tiny associations and devotions have become so normalized, so pushed down into monotony, that so many don’t even notice. However, many a truth is spoken in jest, and some seem to realize more than others, even if they themselves believe their joking. All fairytales and mythologies spring as trees grown around seeds of truth., though indeed I’ve changed the names in this particular one to lend it more to fiction.

The vampire is called Nona, and this piece is dedicated to her, as she started it with the idea of a curious but lazy vampire hanging around a group of fae in order to score free meals and because of friendships with members of the court. Did you know that a group of fae is called a court? We generally prefer team, because that’s what we are, technically, in the eyes of the school. But if the school was aware of the Geass, they weren’t telling, and we sure as hell weren’t asking.

What we did know was that we practiced at the Ridge, the Ridge had rules, and we followed those rules. Because of that, or possibly relating to that, the rules that governed the rest of the high school didn’t apply the same way to the team. We collectively referred to this as “the geass” because that’s what Cait called it— and as a captain, and one of the few actual fae on the team, she was more versed in the nuances of that type of magic than the rest of us.

As for the Ridge, as far as any of us could tell, it was Liminal, and possibly on a couple Ley lines, which was weird, because it wasn’t near anything important. Even the Kaspers, being descended from one of the old forest gods themselves, couldn’t tell much besides the fact that the Ridge was infused with old, old, magic, older than even their own lineage. Hence, its informal rules were handed down runner to runner as the team initiated new members and lost seniors, the gospel to a strange religion of pain and camaraderie, positive vibes and negative splits.

If you didn’t realize, we’re runners, and the Ridge is our training grounds, although such a crude term is insufficient to describe what it is exactly.

Anyways, The Rules:

Never run alone. The familiar can become new again without a second pair of eyes

Always wear a watch, or run with someone who does. Time keeps its own pace in the trails

Run warmup loop before starting any other circuits. The Ridge likes it when you say hello

Don’t leave anyone behind, and don’t become separated from your group. The forest throws voices back which are cast into it, especially near Cop Lake

The bent willow over the lake is the baptismal site under the three gods; Paceus, Speedeus, and Obeseus

There are apples to be found on Mother trail, but only if you aren’t looking

Runs aren’t complete until you slap the sign with the group you ran with. Don’t walk before you hit the sign, you’re not done yet

(rest of the story is under the cut)

Our Gods, and the High Priest

It was one of those mornings that the sun had seemed to rise early and burn off the dew that it could reach. Late June, but feeling like August. By nine am, it was near eighty degrees, and we were all mostly done with our sprints, held at Palzikistan in the burning sun. Twos and fours weren’t all that bad, just tedious in the suffocating heat. The geass was buzzing with languor and breathlessness, thirst, and anticipation. The push for those last fifty yards, the last twenty seconds. The baseball diamond we did our sprints around was at full sun, and the short oaks and coach’s car provided little shade.

Finally, the last of us finished and stood in a loose cluster around the water bottles for coach to assign cool-down. As he talked, [cool-down upper loop or any two miles in the trails back down to the casino for stretch as long as we were back by……… 9:30] the geass shifted, the consensus being that we weren’t really going to do cool-down, but run off as a group and pretend to. The geass wasn’t really good at specifics, but the likely destination was Cop Lake, being on upper loop and quite desirable being that it was summer and we just ran sprints.

The varsity guys took the lead of the pack, jogging up the path to Cop Lake to “run the loop”, and the rest of us followed, slowing at the trail head’s bottle neck to tiptoe our way up the reverse bank of the lake, gripping onto tree roots and watching our footing to ensure that none of us slid right back down. Isaac, Chris, and Chris were up in a flash, their abilities allowing them to bushwhack straight up, while the rest of us stuck to the trail. Must be nice to be part mountain goat.

Up the trail, we went left until we got to a gnarled willow, trunk bent and the primary branch out almost horizontal to the shallow water of the lake below. Isaac climbed up the trunk and out the primary limb, standing up with confidence that was impressive, especially from someone with hooves climbing a tree. As we watched, he announced that it was the time for the baptisms in the eyes of Paceus, Speedeus, and Obeseus for any second-years who hadn’t been baptized yet, and Cait explained that the ceremony entailed climbing up the tree, the High Priest (Isaac) saying the rites, and then jumping into the lake.

Stehlar was up first. He climbed up the tree after Isaac and crouched over the lake on the twisted limb, which swayed with the addition of his weight. Someone behind me whispered about one or both of them falling into the lake, and a few of us watched with a nervous eye, waiting for the inevitable. Still others watched the trail for coach, as technically we were supposed to be on cool-down on the loop around the lake, not jumping in it. But mostly we were watching Isaac stand on the limb with Chris, proclaiming him to be baptized in the eyes of Paceus, the provider of the intelligence and endurance to run a smart race; Speedeus, the giver of speed to pass competitors in the course; and Obeseus, protector from the fats. He yelled this to the lake, claiming it his right as the current high priest.

Then, like an unsure baby bird trying to fly the nest, Chris tried to jump off the limb, which heaved heavily under his weight before he plummeted like a stone into the lake. Several whooped, and soon Isaac and a few others joined him, pleading that we were all so sweaty anyways, coach wouldn’t notice the extra level of wet at stretch. Anyways, if he did, he didn’t say.

It’s Rude to Geass a Vampire

“Did anyone feed Nona?” I asked at the end of practice, not seeing the bat in either of her forms anywhere in the casino.

“I did”, Chris (Bertola) snickered, grinning in a way that I knew I wasn’t going to like what he’d done.

“Chris… you didn’t give her your own, did you?” Vampires could handle the blood of the geass’d, but the more potent the effect of the geass on someone, the more… curious the effects of their blood would be on any bloodsucker unfortunate to prey on them. It affected everyone differently, and some vampires even chose to drink fae or geass’d blood, but since the geass on the team involved the compulsion to run, and Nona wasn’t a fan of cardio, she generally steered clear, especially of the varsity runners.

“Nah,” Chris answered, “I told her to go ask Wert”

“Oh god,” I covered my face with my palm. “What happened.”

“She went that way,” he said, pointing out over the warm up hill, “Faster than I’ve ever seen her fly.”

“CHRIS” I exclaimed, “How many times do i have to tell you, geassing a vampire is extremely rude, and Nona doesn’t like cardio! She’s probably a few miles into Canada by now!”

“Maybe she’ll make it all the way back to Romania.”

“Wrong direction, bird brain, I’ll see if I can get Marin to catch her before she gets too far.” It truly was lucky that we had a venti on the team at times like this.

The Cult Meetings Before First Period

The best part about secrets is if they're out in the open all the time, people care less. It might be scandalous if someone’s cheating, but if the whole school knows and doesn’t care, then it’s old news. This was the principle most of us applied to the school rules. The whole school was cheating on the reality most people believed in, but since we all knew it, it wasn’t really that big of a deal.

Hence, technically the unwritten school rules required that students use glamours and refrain from taking advantage of any… supernatural abilities to excel in academics or other school activities, but like the cell phone rule, it was largely ignored as much as possible. So what if a senior’s footsteps sounded more like the clomping of hooves as they loped down the hallway to gym, because he was clearly wearing sneakers. Or that the selkies and sirens, and a few veela dominated the choral and dramatic arts, because no one could really prove anything without admitting that something might be amiss in the first place.

Such was observed with the clumping of the team before first period in the second floor main hallway around the lockers of the Kaspers and Noot. We still let people through, and there weren’t any fights or misconduct involved with our gathering, so it was fine. The rare human who had a locker in our clump was interesting to witness though. Since the school was located on an old crossroads, mildly liminal itself, there weren’t really many true, pure-blooded humans, but then again it was hard to find a pure blood anything anymore, especially in america. There were however a good many bloodlines that were extremely diluted, sometimes to the point where the family wasn’t even aware of their heritage, just moved to the town for some reason they couldn’t explain, drawn to it’s latent energy without even consciously knowing it.

In any case, on this particular day Maeve, a selkie removed several generations, was getting the percent error on the most recent chem lab from Liv and Noot. I was sitting on the ground with Mason and Caleb, doing geometry homework and helping Mason with his bio, not that he needed it, really. She must have realized something weird, like the fact that Sierra didn’t have a shadow (nephilim are beings of light therefore can’t create shadow), or that when Marin walked by there was a slight breeze even though we were indoors, because half joking, when Noot handed her lab back she asked “Jeez are any of you actually human?”

A bunch of us looked up, the upperclassmen smiling wryly. A freshman raised his hand, unironic. Noot snorted without even looking up from her phone.

“Mason, put your hand down.”

Emma lowered it for him.

“Glucose is C6H12O6” I said, tapping his biology notes. He paused and recorded the answer. Maeve was back to laughing with Noot and Liv over chem, and Andrew had joined them next to Liv. Elise and Angela were trying to see who could boil their water bottles faster, Elise using her breath and Angela relying on the tiny, green flames she held in her palm. Mason watched this with a slightly vacant gaze.

“What did she mean, ‘are any of us human?’” he asked, confused, “I mean, I know Isaac and Stehlar are satyr, and Cait, Emily, and Oni are… something, and Elise, but the rest of the team is normal, right?”

I smirked. “Mason, very few people here are what you would consider fully human. With this team in particular though, there is a geass involved.” Intent magic was pretty strong, and it was a little weird he hadn’t noticed, or recognized it for what it was, especially because he himself was at least a quarter empath, whether he knew it or not. They tended to be more sensitive to those kinds of magic than say, satyrs or venti.

“Isn’t that like a wish?” He inquired, watching as Elise’s water bottle boiled over, landing on Angela’s shoes and quickly evaporating again on contact.

“Kind of,” I started, “A geass is fae magic. Very old, very powerful, and very finicky. The geass on this team particularly connects us and keeps us safe, and allows the team to draw power off of our own running and the liminality of the Ridge, the catch being that it only lasts as long as we continue running, and is only as strong as our drive and dedication to it. Higher mileage, greater geass affect, tighter the team gets, and the easier we fit into the Ridge.”

He nodded, picking at a corner of his homework. “What do you mean, draw power?”

“For those of us that aren’t human, it enhances any latent abilities that may have been diluted by the generations, and it allows all of us to recover faster, run longer, and also gives us a slight emotional connection beyond what you would consider normal empathy. Like… if someone got injured, we’d know, and also how to find them.”

“What does it do to humans?”

“Well, first, while under it’s effect, you’re not human, you’re more like a fae/human hybrid of some sort, I’m not sure what it’s called…. ask Cait.”

He nodded again, jotting down the next answer to his assignment and looked over at Angela and Elise again. Elise was teaching Angela how to toast bread without burning it with her flames, though it was more comical to watch Elise herself breath fire onto her toast than Angela’s green palm flames (the later were more effective at not burning the toast).

“Without the geass are you human?” Mason asked, half-serious.

“Nah”

“What are you?” He asked, looking again pointedly at Angela and Elise.

“I’m not a dragon or a hedge witch, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“That’s not an answer.” he said, smiling with a huff.

“Fine,” I said, giving in, “Without the geass, I’m part immortal on my mother’s side.” On the other side it was pretty obvious as to what I was, the last name Morozkovna didn’t exactly lend itself to subtlety. But Mason, and most everyone else in the student population, didn’t know the evolution of Rus’ surnames and so almost no one ever asked, and no one ever knew.

A secret in plain site is much less exciting than one trying to hide.

“Without the geass am I human?”

“Nah,”

“WHAT?!”

The Eldritch Horror and the Cameraman

“Morozkovna” I heard from behind me, “Are the early frosts this year your doing?”

I turned around.

“Hi Messina,” I started, waving to him with my coffee, “Why would I have anything to do with it?”

Messina smiled, and time hiccoughed, the same junior that had just walked past doing it again, the world seeming for a second like a rewound cassette tape. Very distinctive time magic. I rolled my eyes. It was too early in the morning to exorcise my cousin out of Messina.

“Mephisto, why the fuck are you possessing Nathan?” I asked, incredulous.

“He’s not possessing me.” Messina deadpanned, falling back into his normal voice. “I was just messing with you.”

“He was just a second ago, but since you’re able to apparently thwart possession in less than a second, please explain.”

Mephistopheles was a very old deity, chaos based, the illegitimate child of mortal fear of damnation and a nice cocktail of chaos magic and satanism. Not as old as my parents, though the chaos part of him came from my father’s brother, making him my cousin! Messina did have a fair bit of warlock in him, but even a full warlock would have a hard time freeing themselves of chaos magic and my idiot cousin.

“I summoned him, but used the wrong binding circle, I thought he was something besides what he was, and he escaped and possessed me.” Messina deadpanned.

“What got you back to being un-possessed that allowed you to keep some of his magic?”

“Oh no,” Messina corrected, ‘He’s still possessing my physical body, but after he possessed me I decided to possess him back. He wasn’t too happy about that.”

“No, I wouldn’t think so,” I responded absently, still processing the fact that my idiot cousin got summoned, possessed Messina, and then got possessed by Messina.

“Hey, is he seeing this now?” I asked

“Yes,” he said, laughing, “He’s furious you’re laughing at him,” he paused, as if listening, “something about you being a weakling who couldn’t even light a candle against the roaring, centuries old flame that is his power.”

I lost it at the candle. Well no shit Mephisto I can’t light a candle, my dominion is winter.

“Make sure to watch plenty of hallmark movies,” I instructed Nathan, “He hates happy endings.”

Prerace

Fridays were interesting. Especially later in the day. The excitement of the students caused… curious occurrences and thin wearing glamours. The chorus teacher wouldn’t hold any lessons after fifth period, because once a senior siren accidentally charmed a couple cellists in the next room over. The halls were crowded, and the flow of time didn’t seem to follow the normal laws. Even the teachers were affected, the english teacher’s horns and the smell of salt in one of the global teacher’s room not going unnoticed. The team didn’t even bother with glamour on Fridays, or concealing the geass. It was prerace, which meant a short workout and a pasta party. Our honest excitement killed even the strongest of our glamours even before the geass magnified it a few times. Glamours were concealment magic, and their price was restraint, making them simple to cast, but difficult to maintain when excited, or overly emotional in general.

Elise’s tail flickered in and out of existence, knocking backpacks at random. Angela crackled with sage-green energy, and Chris didn’t even try to conceal his hooves has he came down the hall with Lily. A pencil that Blake was holding sprouted a few leaves and tried to grow as he was doing trig, so someone gave him a mechanical. Even I let go a little, and frost creeped up the sides of the locker I was leaning against. Sierra was legitimately glowing, I’m pretty sure that Ruby’s feet weren’t touching the ground, and Nyah’s pants changed pattern with her movements, the bars of black and white that made up the lines in the geometric pattern folding over themselves and twisting like a kaleidoscope.

Finally, after eight long classes, school was over, and it was time for prerace. At 3:30 at least, Mau was first. Since we were banned from wall ball, Mau has taken the place for favorite pre practice game [besides drawasaurus, that is]. Mau is a game that was originally spawned from the Germanic game Mau Mau, though it is played differently every time. The only things that new players or outsiders to the game are told is as follows:

We’re playing Mau

We can’t tell you the rules, but it’s played similar to uno

While the game is in session we can’t talk

Generally, you lose until you figure out how the game is played. Sitting and watching the game played works too, but you learn faster when your own neck i s on the line; figuratively, of course. It’s taken as seriously as any practice, and as competitively as any race. Communication through the geass and other means with other players was also forbidden during Mau. Cait took care of that with a temporary contract agreed to verbally by all of the players by picking up the cards. Fae magic prevents a breech in contract, and besides most of us were non-human enough to be unable to even before that measure.

I get my hand and it frosts over immediately, its so bad. Messina smiles slowly at it from across the table, he being the only one partially exempt from the communication rule, as I’m not sure Cait knows about Mephisto. Emily starts the round, at Cait’s command of “Meeting in session”.

We all pick up our cards and Emily flips a 7.

#witchcraft #witch #creative writing #fae #magic #magick #running #cross country #geass #mythology

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dawnquafam · 6 years

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Any tips on actually plan a fanfic? I've always wrote my fics without planning beforehand but it isn't working very well for me (as I end up with big plot holes and fanfics that have no plot whatsoever), which makes me really sad because I end up wasting hours of work on something I will never post online. Thank you for your time and have a nice day/night! 🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈✨🌈

I’m just gonna startthis off with a little disclaimer saying that everyone needs to do a differentamount of planning, and different lengths of fics are gonna require differentamounts of planning. Every author and every fic are unique. Me personally, Iair on the side of laziness, aka minimal detail when I do actually sit down andforce myself to plan something (which I never do for one-shots, onlyintentionally multi-chapter fics and my actual book). Luckily, you sound likeme, so hopefully this’ll work for you too.

Second, before I explainmy strategy, heed this quote from Leonard Snart: Make the plan. Execute the plan. Expect the plan to go off the rails.Throw away the plan.

(Ok, don’t actuallythrow away the plan. It’s the first three sentences that are important.)

If I’ve learned anything since I started writing back when I was 12, it’s that fictional charactersmay be figments of your imagination, but they have minds of their own. Thatjoke you think is absolute genius? Yeah, they ain’t gonna say it. Where didthis piece of backstory come from? Not your head, that’s for sure. Thisplotline that was supposed to be resolved within a chapter? Nope, it’s fivechapters and counting now.

Basically, they’regonna tell you what they’re gonna do. They’re like unruly children who’ll dowhatever they damn well please. Don’t bedeterred by this, and definitely do not force your will on them. If you’vegotta force it, odds are the writing will come out unnatural and clunky andyour readers will notice and you’ll hate it. You’re gonna be sad that yourgenius moment didn’t make it in, but believe me, your characters know best – it’stheir lives, after all. And sometimes, those spur of the moment ideas are farbetter than anything you could’ve come up with ahead of time.

(If you’re really attached to the idea they’rerejecting, write it in a separate doc to do something with later. Keep it foryourself. Maybe post it as a deleted scene once you’re done with the fic. Or,there was one time I started a one-shot, couldn’t figure out where to go with it, abandoned it, and it later ended up as a flashback scene in a different fic that did get posted.You never know.)

Essentially, just bewarned that no matter how much planning you do, things are gonna change. Thoseplot holes you mentioned, they’re going to create themselves, because that’sthe nature of the beast. Forge ahead anyway – fixing those is what editing isfor.

Now that I’ve spent six(6) paragraphs explaining why planning is gonna get derailed, here’s how Iplan:

First, write downkey details. Making up a new place or alien species? Give it a name (GIVE IT ANAME BEFORE YOU START WRITING ITS SCENES FOR THE LOVE OF ALL YOU HOLD DEAR, NOTDOING SO COULD TRIP YOU UP FOR HOURS) and describe it briefly (nothing fancy,you can get fancy once you’re actually writing, planning is just to get thebasics down). Same goes for any OCs you may be incorporating, be they villains orside characters or whatever – name them and give them a basic appearance andpersonality/motivation. Basically anything that needs a name, come up with itsbasics before you start writing.

A couple examplesfrom my fic Operation: Memory:

Ascorix- Criminalplanet, crowded slums, overpopulated and heavily polluted, tall narrow greybuildings, little to no plant/wild animal life

Kutral- Moarian,tall and wiry, long wavy sky blue hair, navy blue skin, unnaturally brightgreen eyes, expert art thief and murderer, superspeed (top speed 100mph);motivated by money for fancy expensive things

And while we’re onthe subject, here are some sites I use to name things, I’d be lost without them:

http://www.behindthename.com/ (forhuman peoples, and I think it can even give your person some background detailsnow!)

http://www.fantasynamegenerators.com/alien-names.php#.WvjToUxFy3A(alien peoples/species)

http://www.fantasynamegenerators.com/planet_names.php#.WvjTskxFy3A(planets/alien species - take the planet name and change the ending to -an or -er or something, like Andorians live on Andoria, Asgardians live on Asgard, etc.)

Now for the scenes(not entire chapters, just individual scenes). Just write down shortdescriptions of what you want to happen. Keep it specific enough that you canremember what you meant weeks or months later, but vague enough that you’re nottrapped and the idea isn’t completely ruined if and when an earlier scene veersoff-course. For example:

Team (minus Mantis?) goes hunting on Ascorix,split in half to cover more ground, Loki gets nervous and guilty cause itreminds him of Sakaar (“Sometimes I wonder…” “You’re a hero, Loki” “…Maybe”), trio(quad?) kidnapped

Vague enough to beflexible, specific enough for me to remember where I’m going (the level ofdetail you’ll need depends on your own preferences). And yes, you are mostcertainly allowed to not know exactly what’s gonna happen – your characterswill fill in the gaps for you. As weird as it sounds, trust the figments ofyour imagination.

If you’re like me,you’re gonna want to mark down where you think each chapter will end, and byall means, do so. But keep in mind that some scenes could go on far longer thanyou think (in my fic Hidden Heartbeat, Nidavellir was supposed to be onechapter and it turned itself into three), while others might struggle to reacheven half the length you wanted. Sometimes a good cliffhanger pops up mid-sceneand you’ll decide to end the chapter there to torture your readers (I am guiltyof this). You won’t really know until you get there.

And that sums up theofficial planning that happens before the writing begins.

Unofficially, nomatter where you are in the fic: If and when you have a random idea, WRITE IT DOWN. On a napkin, in yourphone, in your planning doc, at work/school, at 3 in the morning, it doesn’tmatter. I don’t care how good you think your memory is, just run on the ideathat YOU WILL FORGET IF YOU DON’T WRITEIT DOWN IMMEDIATELY.

And if and when yourplan switches tracks, WRITE DOWN THECHANGES BUT KEEP THE OLD SCENES SOMEWHERE. They could still inspiresomething, they could still happen but just later than you intended, the main ideasthe original scenes were supposed to convey could still be perfectly relevant,and if you’re in the middle of the story, you could eventually wind up back onthe original track. Keep every bit of your plan. Leave deleting for the actualstory.

To sum up:

Outline key details,names, and scene ideas.

Keep it flexible,but know where you’re going. Odds are details will change, but your overarchingplot will stay relatively intact.

Make a plan, butlisten to your characters if they wanna go off on a tangent. Best-case scenario,that tangent is the best part of your fic. Worst comes to worst, you can cutthe tangent from the final draft.

And, last but notleast, delete nothing, absolutely n o t hi n g, from your outline. Move it down the page, move it to a differentdoc, whatever, but keep it for futurereference.

(Whoo, that gotlong. I hope at least part of it was helpful, and good luck in your writing!)

#writing tips #planning tips #planning #fic planning

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creative-frequency · 7 years

Text

SFW Noctis x OC: Present Life

Word count: 1544 Pairing: Noctis x OC (Eve Leonis) Warnings: SFW, fluff, sexual themes Notes: For @ffxv-oc-week Day 1: Childhood Memory / Present Life. Sort of an AU oneshot, where Eve doesn’t end up with Nyx, of my multichapter fic Bad for Me.

Prince Noctis shifted in his sleep, further entangling his limbs with the bed covers. His disheveled dark hair and un-regally agape mouth were the picture perfect definition of bed head. He had hogged most of the large double-cover to himself, leaving the woman lying next to him exposed to the slowly impending sunlight.

Her dark blonde hair was in ruffled disarray too. The braid she had worn when they had gone to bed had undone during the night, and long locks were wending from the hairdo on the sheets. Eve Leonis slept peacefully next to Noctis; on her side, slightly curled for comfort. At least, when she had fallen asleep, she had been completely under the covers, but now only a slice of her body was wrapped under the warmth.

The previous night had been an exhausting one. Both because of what had happened during the day and in the bed later. Sleep had claimed the couple quickly after their usual fornication.

Noctis grunted and turned in his sleep, causing his forearm to land on Eve’s waist. The contact was enough to rouse her from the light slumber.

Eve groaned as she turned onto her back and opened her blue-grey eyes. Her brows furrowed because of the light. Noctis was on his stomach, cheek heavily against the pillow and mouth slightly open. The sight was very familiar to Eve.

The morning was chilly and it would continue to be until the sun climbed high enough to warm Insomnia with its rays. Eve weighted in her mind whether she should try to steal back her share of the covers or just get up to start the day. The chances that she would be able to fall back asleep again were slim.

Eve gazed at Noctis’s face. He had never had any troubles crashing right where he were, no matter the setting. His habit of always napping was as infuriating as it was endearing. A tender smile spread on her lips.

Eve stretched her limbs horizontally before sitting up. The morning was getting quite bright already and she wondered what time it was. Not that it actually mattered. She had the day off and her only plan was to spend as much time with Noctis as she could, before her next assignment in the Kingsglaive would whisk her away to Astrals know where. It was a rare treat for Eve to wake up in the prince’s bed without a hurry to leave.

Not many people knew about their… flings. That was what Eve referred to them as in her mind. They were not really dating, so she wouldn’t have called it an actual relationship. But whatever it was, it was somewhat of a secret. Neither of them had ever actually told anyone of their happenings, but there were a few people they had zero chance of fooling.

What had started as a one night after a long, professional friendship had turned into a craving after some time spent apart. Discovering, that the desire for each other was indeed mutual, had quickly made their endeavors more frequent and their relationship had quickly deepened into something forbidden. There were no clear rules voiced out, but both of them knew in their hearts that this was not something that could be indulged in endlessly.

Eve sat on the edge of the bed, looking around for some clothing to cover her naked body. Her panties lay forgotten on the floor, where Noctis had tossed them in their lustful haze. Her Kingsglaive garb was in a heap by the door and she felt a sting of shame from treating her uniform like that. The mental image of her captain’s lecturing brought a grimace to her face.

Eve stepped on the cool floor and went to pick up her panties. Then she skimmed through the pile of once or twice used clothing Noctis had on a chair in the bedroom. She grabbed a t-shirt and yanked it over her head. It smelled like its owner and Eve turned to take a look at the sleeping prince. She picked up her gear and neatly folded it on the chair before stepping out of the room.

Noctis’s apartment was tidier than usual. There were no random pieces of trash littering every surface and the pile of dirty dishes next to the sink was still within reason. Maybe it was because Noctis had expected Eve’s visit, or maybe because Ignis had just had a good timing in chivvying the prince to clean. Either way, Eve was quite content that she didn’t need to clear a path just to get to the kitchenette.

Eve opened the cupboard where the coffee was. Barefooted with just panties and Noctis’s shirt on, she loaded the coffee maker and began to look for a couple of clean cups. At least Noctis always had the good stuff lying around, though Eve was pretty sure that Ignis was the only one who actually used the machine in the apartment.

With no clean cups to be found, Eve had to resort to washing some of the dirty ones while waiting for the coffee. She hummed quietly to herself, internally cursing why her lover was too lazy to clean. On the other hand, she had no grounds to nag to Noctis, but she kind of wanted to witness the annoyed groan and distressed look he always had when scolded about housework. Just as a repayment for having her wash the cups.

The clatter of keys from the front door made Eve pause for a second, but hearing the sounds that followed eased her posture again.

Shuffling of clothes and light rattle carried from the vestibule. After a moment, Ignis walked into the living room and turned to see Eve washing the dishes in the kitchenette.

“Morning, Ignis,” Eve said nonchalantly, not even turning to look at his exasperated expression. It wasn’t the first time Ignis had walked into the prince’s apartment to find Eve in less clothing that a hobgoblin and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

“Good morning,” Ignis said after letting out a weary sigh. He proceeded to unload the grocery bag he had brought with him. It mostly contained real food to support healthy eating habits, but also a few selected snacks, because Ignis knew that Noctis would buy them anyway.

“Noct’s still asleep?” he asked while piling the food into the fridge.

“Mm, yeah.”

Another sigh from Ignis. Not that he had really expected another kind of an answer.

“Want me to wake him up for you?” Eve asked and drained the water from the sink. She dried the cups and spoons with the kitchen roll. The coffee was ready.

“Please do,” Ignis said as Eve turned to take a look at him. The delicious smell of Ebony waffled in the air and Ignis was tempted to ask for a cup, but he didn’t really fancy to stay to disturb the couple’s morning. Or rather, midday as it was already. Flashbacks of barging into the apartment at a more hazardous time passed his mind.

“Anything else?” Eve asked with a raised brow and an amused smile playing on her lips. Ignis wasn’t even flustered anymore to see her half-naked. Not that he even looked as he kept his eyes discreetly on other direction. Eve poured the coffee into the cups and threw in some sugar.

“Remind him that His Majesty waits his son for dinner tonight.” Ignis sounded a tad condescending. There really wasn’t anything better he could do than let Eve take over in chivying Noctis in his stead. She would probably have better means to persuade His Highness, so Ignis was weighing between propriety and efficiency.

“Will do,” Eve confirmed and flashed an assuring smile to the royal advisor. His job sure wasn’t easy. She took the cups and set on returning to the bedroom.

“Well then, have a nice day,” Ignis wished and turned to leave after Eve had walked past him.

“You too, Specs.”

Eve pushed the bedroom door open with her foot and walked to the bedside dodging the clothes on the floor. The air in the room was a bit stale after the heady night, but the familiar scent of Noctis was comforting.

Eve set the hot coffee cups down on the nightstand and sat next to Noctis. She gazed tenderly at the sleeping prince, wondering how he could look so peaceful.

“Time to wake up, Noct,” Eve said far too gently to actually get Noctis to move. “Wake up...”

No reaction.

“NOCT. Wake up.” Eve brushed some hair strands off his face and his brows creased.

Noctis mumbled incoherently in response and turned to curl his arm around Eve’s waist. He was so warm after lying under the covers.

Eve stroked his cheek. “I’ve got coffee–eee!”

Noctis pulled her down on the bed and nuzzled his face into her hair. Eve giggled and Noctis drew her back against his chest.

“I don’t think I’m ready to leave the bed yet,” he husked against her neck, causing pleasant shivers run down her spine.

“As long as you won’t go back to sleep.”

“…I need some motivation.”

Encounter with the needy prince in the morning was nothing new for Eve and she happily obliged.

#ffxv oc week #ffxv oc #noctis x oc #ffxv fanfiction #eve leonis #noctis lucis caelum #oc #bad for me #ignis scientia #sleepy prince #kiss the cook #fanfiction #poor ignis #ffxv #final fantasy xv #my writings

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blog-ughmovies-blog · 7 years

Text

5 in 1 Reviews #1

5 Films

5 Reviews

5 Years

THE LEGEND OF TARZAN

It's quite difficult for me to express my thoughts about The Legend of Tarzan consistently without zipping off into tangents referring to everything from The Jungle Book (2016), Zulu (1964) to The Man Who Would Be King (1975), or without starting a conversation about the ethics of a white man saving a black nation because he is stronger and seemingly knows the land better than everyone else who lives there, so bare with me whilst I try and focus the review down to the bare minimum positives and negatives this film provides.

Firstly – The Legend of Tarzan is better than I expected. Its generic plot is helped by some extremely interesting characters, specifically the surprisingly badass Jane, and a plethora of exciting moments. The dynamic between man and nature provided from beginning to end makes for some heart-warming and terrifying sequences as well and helps paint the bad guys with one brush which, whilst usually an issue, is part and parcel with a summer popcorn flick. Most importantly, though, The Legend of Tarzan is damn entertaining, and, with a swift 1 hour 45 minute runtime, it doesn't outstay its welcome, meaning if you're ready to turn most of your brain off, relax and enjoy something that's simply fun and exciting, you'll be more than happy.

Unfortunately, the main issue that is noticeable throughout the film is its sloppy editing. Whilst editor Mark Day is certainly talented, having edited all of David Yates' Harry Potter films and the stunning Ex Machina, this is the closest he has come to an action film, and he struggles far too often. Within scenes, the editing is choppy and unfocused – making it hard for a viewer to properly keep up with what is happening. It almost feels Bourne-esque – yet the Bourne films edited the film in this way to create a specific style, something close to guerilla filmmaking, whereas The Legend of Tarzan has a firm foot in the “epic film” camp, making everything seem messy and lazy. In between scenes, the editing is simply poor, forcing the narrative to become harder to follow than it really needs to be. Scenes start too late, confusing the viewer once more, and drag on for too long. This really makes the entire thing pretty difficult to enjoy properly – especially when the actual film is so entertaining. It ruins a lot of sequences and makes each fight scene a jumbled mess.

Of course, it doesn't destroy the film. It's still worth watching – though it falters through a lack of any form of originality in the way it tells it's story – and, in its smooth runtime, it's hardly going to waste much of your time if you hate it.

3/5

You can find it on:

NowTV

Amazon – DVD £4.99, Blu-Ray £7.99

JACK REACHER: NEVER GO BACK

The first Jack Reacher was a surprisingly great film, having a decent amount of variety, some excellent scenes and a top notch action performance by Tom Cruise. Adding to that, the villain was Werner Herzog, who was, like always, brilliant. When I heard the sequel would be directed by one of the best current directors Edward Zwick, I was extremely excited. Unfortunately, my excitement was dissipated when I turned the film on.

Jack Reacher: Never Go Back is a collection of shots of Tom Cruise Cobie Smulders running away from people. The story is muddy at best and laughably boring at worst, and the main villain is just some tough bloke. It is far and away the dullest and most generic action film I have seen in a long while – saved only by the relationship between Reacher and the girl he believes to be his daughter, Samantha (Danika Yarosh). This relationship plays out quite nicely, with them both hating each other in the beginning and growing closer as the film goes along. What's really good about this, however, is how smooth this transition seems. They both begin to notice, as the film plods along pretty poorly, how important one another has been to their own survival. Samantha helps them solve the mystery they are presented with, and Reacher keeps her safe. They're both written pretty decently and, to be honest, it was my favourite part of the film.

On the other hand, the relationship between Smulder's Major Turner and Reacher is so painfully fake it genuinely hurts. There is no reason for them to get along other than, get this, a set of dull phone calls made at the beginning of the film. They have no other reason to care about each other than poorly written dialogue that lasts all of 3 minutes. It is undoubtedly the worst way to set up a character relationship. If you compare that to the character development presented through phone calls in When Harry Met Sally, which made us of great, real dialogue and fantastic performances, you'll see just how much they missed the ball here.

The action sequences are decent for the most part. The finale is actually really quite enjoyable if a little short lived, and the ending is great. The rest of the film? Honestly, not good at all. I was so disappointed at the end of this film because I was desperate for it to live up to its great predecessor. Unfortunately, it failed, and this franchise is most likely dead in the water.

2/5

You can find it on:

NowTV

Amazon – DVD £10, Blu-Ray £10

MIKE AND DAVE NEED WEDDING DATES

This turgid, unfunny mess is one of the most utterly ridiculous and painful attempts at humour I have ever perceived. Boring, yawn-worthy and simply humourless, Mike and Dave Need Wedding Dates takes a variety of talented actors, specifically Zac Efron and Anna Kendrick, and wastes them. It treads the same ground of every film before it and creates a picture that is entirely soulless.

There's not much to say that's positive – other than one or two of the jokes kind of land, but barely. The negatives? A dull plot, a painful script and wasted performances help leave a bad taste in any viewers mouth.

It's not even worth talking about anymore. The best thing about it is that its mercifully kind of short – but not short enough. Simply don't watch it.

1/5

You can find it on:

NowTV

Amazon – DVD £5.36, Blu-Ray £7.00

CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE

On the other end of the comedy spectrum we have Central Intelligence, a film a lot better and a lot funnier than it has any right to be. Starring Kevin Hart in the same role he usually plays – a normal, though overtly excitable guy who gets himself in trouble and screams his way out of it, and The Rock, who is fantastic, Central Intelligence follows a loner and a cool kid from high school who meet up again as adults through Facebook. The plot is funny, but it has enough twists and turns to make it feel like a pretty great caper as a whole. The script the plot is wrapped in is genuinely funny too, filled with rapid-fire jokes that, whilst not always landing, hit often enough to get a bundle of laughs from the end product.

Let's not beat around the bush here, though. Kevin Hart is pretty decent, but The Rock is fantastic. A great actor in his own right, his comedic chops are brilliant – namely due to his expressions and sarcasm. His humour seems to lean pretty heavily on those two things, and somehow he pulls it off brilliantly, with fantastic delivery and great comic timing on top. This film is The Rock with Special Guests, and, as much as that shouldn't work, it really does.

In the end, the film works because, as a whole, it is funny. Not spectacularly so – but enough to make it an enjoyable experience. Its finale is a little limp and it does drag here and there, but through its surprisingly brisk feeling 1 hour 47 it doesn't get boring. Give it a watch – you won't regret it.

3.5/5

You can find it on:

Now TV

Amazon – DVD £4.95, Blu-Ray £8.00

WARCRAFT

Let's save the best until last – Warcraft is extremely enjoyable. Based off the hit game series, of which the lore for is unimaginably expensive, Warcraft jumped dangerously into the video game movie waters. As someone who couldn't care less about the game series, I and many others felt the film was great.

The main positives Warcraft brings to the table are its interesting story, a decent script, some great leads and an amazing performance by Toby Kebbell. Starting with the story, it only scratches the surface of the overall Warcraft tale in order to avoid confusing its unacquainted audience, yet it tells it so smoothly and beautifully that it's hard not to be enthralled. It's effective and smart enough to keep most anyone entertained until its final moments as long as you're a fantasy fan.

Everyone does a fantastic job in their respective roles – but Toby Kebbell is the standout star here. His performance as Durotan is incredible and could force the so-called “feels” out of a stone. The CGI used to create his character is even more impressive, however, making the slightest movement of his face register to the audience, turning a monster into something so much more tangible and meaningful. Ben Foster and Travis Kimmel are both fantastic as well, though they mainly play pretty generic fantasy roles and could be interchanged pretty easily. Paula Patton, however, is great and feels like she couldn't be replaced by any other actress. She is, as a whole, perfect for the part, even if the role she plays is a little forgettable due to the constraints of a brisk, yet decently complex storyline that leaves her in the dust at times.

Warcraft does fall victim to the failures of The Legend of Tarzan, however, in the form of its editing. Its makes for some confusing moments, such as where characters are in set pieces. It doesn't allow for the audience to be aware of the whereabouts of each character within each scene, making it so, when one of them pops up behind some cover, some head scratching follows. It's not a giant issue, but it is pretty infuriating, making the cut feel a little choppy and amateurish.The tone of the film is a little messy too – it tries to be extremely serious when dealing with the orcs, yet suddenly changes to a far more light-hearted tone when Fimmel is on the screen, trying to squeeze a heroic lead out of him when it isn't really necessary. The film would actively benefit from having a pretty stable tone, and it would probably make a lot more of the dramatic moments feel more powerful.

As you can guess, though, Warcraft is a great time, and a worthy watch for anyone, fantasy fan or not. At just over 2 hours, it does feel decently long, but never drags like other fantasy films can. This is a winner for anyone.

You can find it on:

NowTV

Amazon – DVD £4.91, Blu-Ray £7.79

RANKING (Worst to Best)

5. Mike and Dave Need Wedding Dates

4. Jack Reacher: Never Go Back

3. The Legend of Tarzan

2. Central Intelligence

1. Warcraft

#warcraft #central intelligence #legend of tarzan #tarzan #live action #jack reacher #tom cruise #5 #in #1

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