#<- gonna start trying to add image descriptions to these as much as possible

[outofcontext-homestuck]

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Omg I recently found your Miguel and Joel fics and your writing is so good!! I have to ask, as an aspiring fic writer, do you have any tips on how to write/improve fanfic or find your writing own style? I have so many docs files worth of half-finished fics (since I suffer from not-good-enough syndrome), and I try to learn as much as can from those I admire. If this ends up being answered, thank you so much!!

hey! thank you for the ask and it's taken me a while to answer cuz I had to think long and hard to give you something useful lmfao... and it means a lot that people enjoy my writing enough to even ask me for advice!! thank you anon, and I hope this helps :D

a/n: I'm not an expert, not even a little bit, but I like writing on here and I'm writing a book! so those are my (lack of) credentials - just a heads up

gonna split my advice into parts: before writing, during, and after; and also give some tips on writer's block / "not-good-enough-syndrome" (very very valid, btw)



Before writing

- Planning is not always necessary but I find it helps! it doesn't even have to be a really detailed one, like mapping out every story beat - but writing rough notes can help you guide it along better. And if you're not actively planning, thinking about the fic in more detail can act as a plan.

- Unironically, all my fics start off as vivid daydreams, which I then jot down notes, and start writing. If you think of your plan as guidelines rather than something rigid, it can help with flow. I.e. if when you start writing you're finding it hard to hit a certain beat, there's no need to force it in that direction.

- It can help to emulate the writing styles of writer's you like - like an artist study but with fics/literature you like. Take a couple of fics you really really like and jot down what you enjoy about it, and specificity is key. What about their language do you enjoy? Is it their use of metaphors, is it the way they describe actions, or the little character details they include? It can help to have this list on hand when you actually start writing.

- Similarly, you can try little writing exercises to get you thinking about that kind of thing. It think I saw this in a youtube vid, but a thing I've done in the past is take a scene from a movie or book and try to emulate in one of two ways, or both: first, as best you can remember, as close to the style of the original work as possible. And second, in your own words, trying to hit certain plot beats as best you can, leaving the rest up to you. For example, I always did it with the opening of the hunger game's first chapter, because it was something really distinctive to me and a property I enjoy. The important thing here is to not have the reference in front of you. The aim isn't to copy exactly, but to imitate / get your brain thinking about the way in which the author / filmmaker / etc portrays the story.



Whilst writing

There is a lot of very valid general writing advice in terms of language and actually writing, so I'll list some general ones below, (idk if this was quite your question tho):

- vary sentence length and structure. it adds rhythm and texture to your writing. but also be wary and try to align it to the context: i.e. a more fast-paced action scene would benefit from short, staccato sentences, but a scene describing characters falling in love (hazy, romantic, etc) might be better with longer, multi-claused sentences to drag out pace.

- focus less on stuffing in adjectives (i am very guilty of this, icl) but rely on the specificity of your nouns to portray information I.e. instead of 'spindly, thin and wire-framed glasses' using 'spectacles' is both more efficient and sounds a bit nicer.

- depends on the writer, but try to work backwards from images and motifs for characters, places, etc rather than the other way round. I.e. if your character is as fierce as a lion, instead of stating that as a simple simile, imply the metaphor with description: "her flowing mane (note specificity of noun, mane, not hair) cascades around her maw - spit-slick and eyes wild. Carnal, she was a killer; and God help those caught between her claws." (<< this is corny asf, lmfao, my bad. but u get the gist), and then you can pepper your text with callbacks to the motif - like little easter eggs for your reader.

- similar to above, adverbs often break up the flow of text, so choose the verbs carefully. Instead of "Hurriedly, he ran" even more info can be given with "tumbled" or "stuttered" etc etc

- break up dialogue with action rather than the usual alternatives for "said" .

- also also, "said" and other simple words are not bad to use at all!! sometimes they work better in the text than every dialogue word being "whispered" or "crooned" or whatever. you can repeat words without reaching for a thesaurus every time, cuz often its alternatives are more jarring and noticeable to read.

- honestly, above all the 'feel' of the text trumps everything else, or at least it does for me. There is no point using a super complex metaphor if it comes out of nowhere, or breaks up the tension of a scene. These aren't hard rules, and if it serves your story more to 'break' them, then you absolutely should! Definitely read aloud where you can (ik it's a little embarassing with fics, sometimes). In terms of my specific style, I'm a big fan of poetry so i like to pay careful attention to the way words and sentences sound! I love using fricatives or plosives or words that sound the way they feel (if that makes any sense), sentences that have rhythm due to placement of commas and semicolons - I think it makes for a more enjoyable read.

- don't be afraid to jump around when writing. Often, the issue is with starting out, so chop and change where necessary and jump around the fic. If there's a specific scene you're really excited about writing, write that first! and then once you're in more of a flow, the rest should be a bit easier.

- I can't really help with grammar cuz I know my grammar fucking sucks; there's probably an editor out there that has a heart attack everytime I overuse a semi-colon lmfao.



After writing

- For me, editing is the most important part of writing. Due to the way I write it's where a fic can really be elevated or fucked. A lot of the stuff I write initially is gibberish, and then is improved massively in the first edit.

- so with that, don't be afraid to shift things around: sentences, words, whole passages if need be. If you're writing in a word processor, take advantage of it's features. if it helps, make a copy of your fic and really 'fuck' it up: move shit around, get rid of wonky words, etc. be ruthless lmfao - cuz it's only the copy. if you tend to over describe (like me), I promise you that backspace button is your best friend.

- depends on how long it is, but take it in chunks (this is with both editing and writing) focus on the chunks and then expand out into the whole.

- it's important to be reflective. if you get through the process, or hit a slump and you're unsatisfied; be specific about why. where exactly did it stop working for you? is it the way you've described a scene? does it feel slow? too fast? do your characters feel flat? no stakes? be specific, and if you can, highlight where it went wrong. the comment feature on docs is my favourite to use because of this reason

- also, please remember to give yourself your flowers! where it works, no matter how small, make sure to highlight it and say, "I really like this bit, because of xyz". the 'because' is important, as it helps you do this again in later fics.



writer's block / not-good-enough-syndrome

- first off, remember that 9 times out of ten, you are your own worst critic. I guarantee that the things you don't like about your writing, someone will read and very much enjoy it! humans aren't great at being objective, so give yourself some grace and leeway to learn and improve.

- second, best way to overcome this is exposure therapy, imo. Tumblr is a great place for this: you can make a side blog and dump all the fics you think are a bit shit on there. It may gain some traction, it may not; but the most important part is that you've put yourself out there, and nothing exploded. and because there are no stakes, you can get rid of the blog as you see fit, with little to no consequences, and never have to think about it again.

- if you do end up posting, please don't get bogged down by the metrics! it can suck when something you've worked really hard on doesn't do very well. the great thing about fanfic, is that it's a really easy way to improve quickly. if you like something enough to want to write fanfic - you're more likely to write. More writing = more improvement, and you get to enjoy fucking around with the canon or a self insert or writing smut or whatever.



in terms of overcoming writer's block / having lots of half finished fics you can approach it a couple of ways:

- you can brute force finish a fic, no matter how shitty you think it is, and try to salvage what you can in the edit.

- lower the stakes! if you can't write a thousand words, leave it at 500! often when you move the goalposts closer, there's less of a mental block, and you end up bringing it to it's natural conclusion anyway.

- if you've got multiple unfinished fics, frankenstein that bitch lmfao. cut and paste and stick the best bits together. You like that one interaction? cool, stick it onto a bit from another fic. You've come up with a great piece of dialogue? great, stick it in the middle of that fic. Because you're not necessarily coming up with new content, just repurposing old bits and bobs, often you find you're writing the inbetween-y bits anyways and you've got a full fic.

- take a break! leave stuff unfinished, sleep on it; come back in a day, a week, a month. fresh eyes can make all the difference when you've been staring at it too long.



finding your writing style:

- read, read, read, read. other fics, books, even consuming media generally to find a voice. You can be reflective and specific, like I mentioned in the other points to help yourself along, but expanding your horizons will do wonders for your writing.

- e.g. my favourite book is Lolita and I'm in loooove with the writing style: it's a beautiful balance of poetic with a strong narrative voice. I love poetry (Ocean Vuong you will always be famous!), and gorgeous, existential films filled to the brim with subtext (Blade Runner 2049, Howl's moving castle, Moonlight, etc). You probably can't notice that explicitly in my writing but it does show up: I love wistful rambling, heavy imagery, strong thematic motifs... all things I've connected with in other media, and emulated in my writing.

Your "voice" comes later, I think - something that happens without you actively looking for it. Who you are, your experiences, your connections with other people: it's pretty hard to keep that out of your writing. So don't stress! The page is like a block of wood; it scratches, it dents, it erodes - chips away into something new, entirely. Your writing remembers, and it doesn't stop being yours when you walk away from it.

Hope this wasn't pretentious or annoying or anything! best of luck anon and feel free to dm me cuz I'd love to read whatever you come up with (no pressure, ofc).

If anyone has any other writing tips I will do my best to reblog them, thanks <33

[ldwritesstuff]

Zoids: Era's End The Blizzard Team

So apparently writers do talk about the behind the scenes of their fics. I figured I'd throw my hat in and show the Zoids of the Blizzard Team. Of course I am no artist and since one of them has a heavy custom paint job *Cough couch* Ranboo *couch cough*, which means you won't see the paint job but at least I'll put in a description.

So first up the newest member of the team, Tommyinnit piloting the Liger Zero! I mean isn't Tommy just Bit Cloud if you squint?

Next up is the mercenary and his partner, Purpled piloting the König Wolf! Now this one does actually have an image for the paint job! Also with the ö I literally have to copy paste because I can't get my keyboard to do it-- Anyways

And of course we have the master mechanic (And totally not mad scientist) Tubbo in the Dibison!

And last but certainly not least, the real leader of the Blizzard Team Ranboo in the Raynos! Gonna pull a quote from my own fic to describe this thing: "body painted black with white wings, red claws, and a green canopy." So something like that.

So there ya go, the whole team in one spot for convenience. As more teams get revealed, I'll add more posts like this. Now an update on my written work in the background. As of writing this post, I'll be on the way of finishing chapter 8 and probably start work on chapter 9. I like having a buffer in case I can't get to my fic in enough time. Or in my case juggling work and school at the same time. However the goal is to try to get to chapter 10 before I post chapter 5, we shall see. Ideally I want chapter 8 done soon and then possibly post another chapter. My google docs for the whole thing is begging for mercy with how much I have stuffed in there for notes and shit. I love the tabs feature, makes it easier to have everything in one place.

If you have any questions, my inbox is open. Other than that, LD signing off!

[proton-wobbler]

Ivory-billed Woodpecker (Campephilus principalis)

"I am submitting this while shaking, I have no idea if I'm gonna be the one who screws up whether they can be included or not and that terrifies me. Begging that they live in enough obscurity that no one else thought to submit then even with the more recent surge in interest with that maybe-footage 🙏🏼 ANYWAYS! This thing is like Schrodenger's Cat but a woodpecker, have you SEEN its description on wikipedia?? Possibly extinct, maybe still alive, people jeep thinking they have evidence + footage of it still being around but we can't ID it for sure, the government wants to try delighting it from the Endangered Species list as an extinct species but enthusiasts and conservationists are trying to stop that since their listing protects a lot of forests they would need to live in if they're still around etc etc etc. This woodpecker is like a cryptid, but like we know they existed recently and it's completely possible they're still out there just chilling. also when I look at photos of them they look like a Looney Tunes character. if they're still around, they're THE largest species of woodpecker in the US and one of the largest in the world, with a wingspan of ~30 inches and a length of ~21 in. Their range has been severely reduced by hunting and deforestation (has was done to many of our old-growth forests in the swamps/bottomlands for the logging industry 😭😭), but there are those who believe a population could still be out there, deep within the bottomland forests that still remain in the southeastern wetlands. there are entire memes with the X-files guy and that I Want To Belive poster. I'll share when either voting starts if they make it into the polls, or to your inbox directly if by some horrible twist they get more than one entry and fall out entirely 🥲 #IWantToBelieve"

I really can't think to add anything else, as this submitter really got their info down. My only addition is my personal statement that as much as I do want to believe there's a population hanging on, I don't think I can. The birds weren't very shy when they were still hanging on, and many of the birders who got the final photos and videos of them remember that they were easy birds to follow, if you were familiar with the area.

That aside, delisting a species that is helping to protect endangered habitat is always tricky, so even if they are truly extinct, we should still do what we can to keep that habitat protected. If keeping an extinct bird on the books is what we need to do so, I'm all for it.

Sources:

Image Source: eBird (Arthur A. Allen);

The source of the birders saying it was easy to follow comes from the National Geographic "Birds of Eastern America" identification guide's section on Ivory-billed Woodpecker.

[dracolunae]

Hey, i was wondering if you could give some tips on how to write image IDs? I've been starting to add them to the alt text of my image selfposts but i feel like im not doing them properly and since you have the update accounts and write them often i thought that you could give some good advice about it Also here's some other halloween candy for you lmao

[Image ID:

A photo of a long white ceramic serving plate topped with slices of cake with a light and dark swirled pattern in the cross section. The slices are laid out like tipped over dominos bricks.

End ID]

Yay! Marmorkuchen!

But about image IDs. I tend to go from big to small in the description. Describe the most banel basic ass shit first, like “Is this a photo, is it art, if so what kind? Digital? Photograph or scan of a manual drawing? Is this an infographic?” From then you can describe the general topics, themes and layout of whatever it is you’re describing. You also have to consider whether you’re writing this ID for people who are familiar with the contents (fanart) or if it’s gonna be for people who don’t. Deciding the level of detail is a personal choice but mostly influenced by what amount of detail is necessary for this to be a functional image ID. You wouldn’t describe the font that something is written in unless it matters for example!

You can also decide what writing style best fits the ID. i tend to write full, dense sentences to get as much info in without the ID running too long but I also write in full sentences and following grammar rules. Sometimes a note taking style works better if there’s lots of disjointed things you can’t fit well into nice sentences!

And if you’re describing multiple things or a series of things in one post you can describe key elements in more detail once and then refer to them more simply for the rest of the ID!

I normally avoid putting IDs in alt text because they can be harder to access for people and have a much shorter character limit. Also try to always surround your ID with some form of ID start and end indicators and keep the ID, if in the body of the text, as close to the image as possible!

As an example, say you’re got a 4 panel comic, I’d describe it like this (gonna make smth up as an example) if I was writing a description for an audience who isn’t necessarily super familiar with the material.

[Image ID:

A 4 panel comic of a made up scene in Just Roll With It Riptide. It is drawn digitally and fully coloured. The scene takes place on a ship, presumably the one the show is set on, called the Albatross.

Panel One: Jay, a woman with long ginger hair wearing a blue jacket over a white blouse, catches Gillion, a turquoise skinned Triton with green hair, fish fins and wearing a black sleeveless turtleneck shirt, sneaking around the ship. Gillion is carrying a brown sack over his shoulder and sneaking. A speech bubble from Jay reads: “Gillion, what are you doing?”

Panel 2: Gillion is turned towards Jay, looking sheepish. You can see that the bag he’s carrying is filled with gold, which is leaking a little trail of coins behind him. Now that you can see Gillion’s entire body you can see he also has a tail and a flask of water tied around his waist, containing a small cute pink frog-octopus hybrid, which is know as Pretzel. Gillion: “Nothing Jay! I am merely, uh, relieving the ship of an unnecessary load so we can sail faster!”

Panel 3: Jay and Gillion stare at each other, Jay is unimpressed. Pretzel, peaking out of the flask at Gillion’s hip, starts collecting coins from where they leak out of the bag. Jay: “Gillion if you throw any more gold overboard as taxes I’m throwing you overboard to lighten our load.” “You” is written in italics for emphasis.

Panel 4: Gillion starts sprinting towards the edge of the ship, indicated through a running pose and blur lines, with Jay giving chase. Her eyes are in glowing red and a targeting reticule is superimposed over one of her eyes, as though she was locking in on her target (Gillion). A stream of gold sprays everywhere from the speed of the chase and Pretzel goes flying with it.

End ID]

[citrineghost]

Struggling to stay organized because you have ADHD?

Well, I have a fantastic solution for you! There’s this bitchin site called Trello and I’m gonna tell you all about it

This is not sponsored, I just really like organization and Trello is awesome. And, as always, no readmore because this is targeted at ADHD people and y’all ain’t gonna click it

[ID: a picture of a website with many columns/lists. Behind the lists, there is a customized background. To the right is a sidebar showing that you can search Unsplash for backgrounds right from the site. Each column/list has a bunch of ‘cards’ on it. The cards each have a title and color coded label(s) /end ID)

Here’s a picture of my to-do board

There are some things blacked out, mostly just my avatar, name, and some original creative stuff I don’t feel like broadcasting.

So, Trello is broken up into different levels of organization. Let’s start with the most important level: boards.

Boards

A board is what’s pictured above. Think of it like a corkboard where you pin your notes. You can make as many of these as you want. You can title them, invite people to them, automate certain parts of them, and more.

On your board, you can make

Lists

Lists are those columns you can see on my board. You can title each list, click and drag them around to reorder them, set them to automatically label the things on them, and so on.

My lists on my to do board are titled with a time period for when I aim to do something. The time periods are large and vague, which makes them great for my ADHD. I can move things between them as I need, which is also great for my ever shifting brain thoughts. 

But! What makes it great is that whatever I put in the left list, titled Next, I know is what I need to be focusing on at the moment. It makes it easier to ignore what’s to the right of it and let’s me relax knowing I won’t just forget everything I’m not prioritizing.

Lists are used for holding

Cards

(ID: A picture of a small window that opens after clicking on a card. It contains the title, the labels (with their names now visible), and a functioning checklist. There is also a place to type a description, a place to add comments, and a list of buttons on the side for managing the card and its place on the board /end ID)

Each card can be as simple as containing just a title (making it a simple entry on your list), or as complicated as housing photos, descriptions, checklists, labels, and comments. You just click the card and it opens the window shown above.

My card is for a tabletop I’m working on, nicknamed TAP. I have it labeled with all of the things pertaining to what it involves (world building, writing, in progress, spreadsheeting, and art/creative). These color coded labels make it easy to see what kind of cards I’m looking at when looking at the overall board and lists.

As I do things on the checklist, I can mark them off. You can even set it to hide completed items on the checklist.

When I’m done with an item on my to do list, I click and drag the card to the Done list (which is offscreen on the far right). If you don’t want a visible Done list, you can also just archive a card and it will disappear from the board.

You can also set due dates on cards, which will notify you when they’re almost due or when the due date arrives.

Customization

One of my favorite things about Trello is that you can customize the appearance of your boards! My ADHD brain can’t stand looking at the same thing constantly, so it’s great that I can change things up. Each board can have its own design too, so you can match the vibes of the board with the appearance.

You can pick from a bunch of solid colors for your board or you can use the connection Trello has with Unsplash to search and select free stock images provided by photographers.

Other Parts of Organization

Not only do you have boards, lists, and cards, you can also make Workspaces, which are basically categories to sort your boards into. If you use Trello for projects, and have a board for each project, you can sort your boards into a Projects workspace.

There is also a function called Butler, which you can use to automate boards. For example, you can set it to automatically create a card called “Pay Rent” at the start of each month.

On the right, in the same sidebar where you can see the background options, there’s also an activity feed, tracking every time a card is moved, commented on, added, archived, and so on.

Team Work

Not only is Trello great for keeping private boards, you can also invite people to them! That makes it incredible for household management, group projects, or even friend groups who feel like storing plans and personalized memes. You can literally use it for whatever you want and in whatever way you want!

ADHD Applications

So, now let’s get down into the specifics of how this is great for people with ADHD.

You can make as many boards, lists, and cards as you want.

This is a big one for me, because I really struggle with websites that limit how much you can do with one account and force you to make multiples and then juggle multiple logins and so on. Start a new project? Make a new board. Follow your heart. Be free. If you end up giving up on it, just delete it, or store it for later. You can Star the boards you actively use and just use the Star list to access the boards you need, so if you star all your active ones and then ignore the unstarred, failed projects, you can leave them to rot or abandon them until the mood strikes again.

You can organize in a way that works for you.

So many organization applications are made to work one way and that can be really difficult to navigate as someone with ADHD. So many people with ADHD have such specific needs in regards to how they organize that it can be really hard to find something that works. Half the time we end up just scrambling around from application to application, cursing them as we go because one has one thing we like, but it doesn’t have the thing this other one has that we like and nothing ever seems to just work.

Trello makes it possible to personalize how you organize and even change how you organize halfway through. I keep my to do list organized in 4 priority levels with the addition of a Pin list and a Done list. You could also:

Keep a list that works as a calendar, with a card for each entry, organized in order of date

Keep a list of reminders where automated weekly/monthly/yearly responsibilities pop up

Jot down reminders as you think of them

Keep lists of school assignments in the order they’re due

Use descriptions and photo uploads on cards to collect information or resources needed for said assignments

Keep lists of information that’s easy to forget or lose track of on paper like address history, work history, references, contact information, and so on (like I’ve done on my ‘Pin’ list)

Use boards for projects, to keep track of things like resources, due dates, meeting times, sending files between classmates or project partners, and so on

Use boards for planning events like weddings, parties, conferences, school dances, or whatever else you’re into

Collect resources, references, or recreational to-dos (like links to fanfiction you want to read)

Literally anything

You can separate everything onto different boards, making everything visible from the titles of cards, or combine it all into one, with lots of information available on a click

The sky’s the limit

You can automate repeat tasks.

ADHD comes with a lot of forgetfulness when it comes to regular tasks, such as weekly appointments, medication reminders, and a yearly charge for your Nintendo membership. You can put that stuff into your calendar, but that can also be tricky because then you have information spread across multiple platforms.

Just as easily, you can set Butler to make new cards with reminders on them.

There’s probably more but I have ADHD and I forgot

Just think of the possibilities!!

I used to get debilitatingly stressed out because I would have 10 things floating around in my head because I was simultaneously trying not to forget them and also stressing about them and I would make what I call “spaghetti lists” where I would list all the things I’m thinking of, just as a way to calm down and know that I won’t forget them, so that my brain could quiet down.

Since starting this board, I haven’t had to do that once because all of the things I’m afraid of forgetting are already listed, even if they’re on the list titled ‘ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ‘ because idk if they’re ever actually gonna happen.

It can be incredibly stressful to see all of your to do items in one place, but since starting this, I have been less stressed overall, because I now know I can find them all in that one place. Learning to manage and cope with the stress of knowing I have a lot to do is easier than forgetting things and then realizing I’m late on something or things just never happening because I never remember them when I’m in a place where I can work on them.

And when you have everything in one place to reference when you have some executive energy, you can suddenly just start doing things. I have them labeled by type so I can go, “I’m in the mood to draw,” and then check all the dark blue labels for creative projects. It makes everything so much easier.

Anyway, I hope this is helpful to some of you, it’s genuinely been life changing for me

[multi--kpop--fanfics]

(Not) Such A Good Boy

sub!bf!Juyeon x dom!fem!reader (ft. Eric, Kevin and Hyunjae)

genre: smut, slight crack, a bit of fluff towards the end

contains: dom/sub themes, degradation, oral sex (f receiving), marking, biting, spanking, Juyeon is a brat on a choker and a leash, unprotected sex (be safe y’all)

Author’s note: This man right there has been wrecking my existence lately (I blame Kingdom) and this GIF screams sub!Juyeon so yeah, enjoy this filth

“Lee Juyeon, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me”, you scoff under your breath. You have been waiting for the past twenty minutes in the living room, outfit and makeup on point, since you were about to go clubbing with your group of friends. But apparently, your dear boyfriend had lost all sense of time, trying to get ready.

Visibly irritated, you storm to your shared bedroom, your heels angrily clicking on the wooden floor. “Juyeon, I swear to God-” you mutter and stop mid-sentence, only to see your boyfriend leaning on the door, fully dressed and a lop-sided smirk plastered on his handsome face. 

“You called, babe?”, he asks teasingly and before rolling your eyes, you give him an once-over, processing his choice of clothes - a pair of tight black leather pants that were hugging his muscular thighs deliciously, a pair of black combat boots, a cropped black sweater with holes around his clavicles and a black belt-like choker around his neck. He was the epitome of the emo bad boy that all parents hated and all girls craved. 

“Um, what is this?”, you question him with a pointing finger. "That, is my outfit for tonight", Juyeon states, the previous smirk still on his face, "What, you don't like it?". "Isn't it a bit unfair for me to wear not so revealing clothes all while you're dressed as an emo himbo?", you complain and he laughs, "An emo himbo? Wow, you're getting more creative with your descriptions, Y/N. You're right though, it's a sort of questionable outfit". You perk up at his response, hoping he'll change into something more colorful and less hole-adorned, only to be utterly disappointed, as Juyeon reached into the closet only to drape a black leather jacket on top of his broad shoulders. "Now we're good to go", he turns to you and winks with audacity. Brat, you scoff mentally and pick up the keys to unlock the door and finally leave your shared apartment.

"Finally! What the fuck took you so long?!", your friend Eric yells at you, trying to overcome the loud bass of the club speakers. "Your complaints to your friend over there, he was the one who took twenty minutes to get ready", you roll your eyes pointing to Juyeon, who was greeting Hyunjae and Kevin, your other friends. "Yooo, Juyeon, what's up with the collar, bro?", Eric amusingly points out. "It's a choker, you tasteless twat. But what would you know of fashion, since you only know how to wear t-shirts and ripped jeans?", Kevin comments and Juyeon mouths a 'thank you' to him. "Simple is the best, my dear friend. Besides, I've been getting all the girls, unlike you and your snake print jacket", Eric retaliates. "Excuse you, this jacket is a fashion statement!", Kevin bites back, feeling insulted. "Not gonna lie though, it does look like a collar. Will you put him on a leash too, Y/N?", Hyunjae comments in a snarky way, making Eric cringe in disgust. "Hyunjae, please go get some drinks, for God's sake", you reply with a dismissive manner. "Yes ma'am", he rolls his eyes and goes to the bartender.

You turn to Juyeon, who was extremely stiff after Hyunjae's comment. "You okay, baby?", you nudge him softly and he's brought back to reality. "Y-yeah, I'm fine, no worries", Juyeon replies, praying that the loud bass could cover his shaky voice. "Don't listen to Eric and Hyunjae, they have zero fashion sense, bro. I would wear that choker too, looks hella good on you", Kevin adds while pointing to the choker and Juyeon's smile is back on his face, "Thanks, bro, I really appreciate it", he replies with a chirpy tone.

The music suddenly changes into a slower jam and Juyeon smirks devilishly, as he winks at you and walks towards the dance floor. You watched as he starts swaying his hips and shoulders in the most smooth way possible, his half-lidded eyes never leaving yours. Eric and Kevin were whistling and cheering on Juyeon, all while Hyunjae was snorting at their antiques. You were simply lost in the image of your boyfriend dancing like there was no tomorrow. He wasn't just following the rhythm, he was riding it - and boy, was he good at doing so.

In fact, he was so good that he gained the attention of many people in the club. And you were lowkey proud, because that man was yours. However, a certain girl wasn't aware of that - hence why she approached Juyeon and started dancing with him. You were a bit jealous, not gonna lie, but the next moment made your blood fucking boil.

He had the fucking audacity to put his hands on her waist and dance with her - all while looking to you over her shoulder with the most smug expression on his face. That fucker, you mentally curse. This was definitely payback for everything you said before you left the house. You just knew it. You weren't even the jealous or possessive type of girlfriend to begin with.

But you'd be damned if you were to let a random bitch run her hands over your boyfriend.

Hyunjae catches up to your motions and he grabs you by your wrist. "Hyunjae, what the f-" "Shut up and listen to me. Going there and creating a scene will not end up well for you and you will give Juyeon exactly what he wants", he states and his words hit home faster that you expected. "Since when did you become so perceptive?", you raise an eyebrow and he chuckles, "I have my moments too, Y/N". "So, since your brain decided to actually function tonight, do you have any idea?" you ask in defeat and Hyunjae starts pulling you to the dance floor by your hand, leaving Eric and Kevin completely baffled. He then pulls you into his chest and leans in your ear to whisper

"Just dance, Y/N".

A Cheshire cat-like grin spreads on your lips, as you catch up to his ulterior motive and you start dancing with Hyunjae, hoping that Juyeon will notice the two of you. "Don't think too much about it, it will happen naturally", he adds, "You're too stiff, Y/N, just relax and enjoy dancing".

His words actually succeed in making you relax and you sway your hips more comfortably, actually enjoying the slow jams echoing through the club speakers. Under the dim lights, you lock eyes momentarily with Juyeon, who was licking his lips and his gaze was a mix of lust and death glares, the last one directed to Hyunjae. "Told you it would work", he comments, "You owe me this one". "Shut the fuck up, Hyunjae", you spit back and he laughs.

However, his laughter is cut short by a very jealous Juyeon, who has grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. "Next time I see you dance with Y/N, I'll break your fucking kneecaps", he growls and Hyunjae takes a step back, "She's all yours, bro", he raises his hands in defense and returns to the table. Juyeon then turns to you, his blood still boiling with jealousy, as you watch him with a proud smirk.

"You find this funny, huh? Dancing shamelessly with my friend?", he clenches his jaw. You then thread a finger through his choker and pull him close to your face, making Juyeon gasp. "Funny? No honey, I'm fucking fuming right now, because you decided to act like a brat and put your hands on the first bitch that threw herself on you", you retaliate, your chill facade slipping away. A sickly sweet smile adorns Juyeon's face as he watches every single movement of yours. He lowers his head, his lips hanging mere centimeters over yours and he slyly pokes out his tongue to lick your lips, hissing at the wet feeling.

"You're so fucking hot when you're mad, baby".

That was the last straw.

"Get your stuff, we're going home", you announce and he flashes a toothy grin. "Yes ma'am", he replies almost immediately and you return to your friends' table. "Guys, we'll be leaving now, hope you enjoy the rest of the night!" you announce and Eric looks between Juyeon and you. "Do I want to know what's going on?", he questions and Kevin pats him on the back while shaking his head as in 'no'. You both bid farewell to your friends and you walk out of the club, jogging towards your car. Juyeon whips out the cars keys and he opens the door for you, his gentleman-like gesture a complete contrast to his previous bratty behaviour.

The ride back home feels like it lasted for hours, when in reality, it lasted only ten minutes - maybe it's your sheer desire to fuck your handsome boyfriend to oblivion. By the time you entered your shared apartment, your lips were on Juyeon's neck, your hands roaming his toned body and his arms wrapped around your waist.

"You love acting like a bratty slut, don't you?", you sneer at him and he releases a breathy chuckle. "Yeah, and so do you", he whispers and he trails kisses upon your neck and behind your ear, nibbling your earlobe. "Are you going to punish me for being a bratty slut?".

You thought you came right there and then, 'cause fuck, he is so hot like this.

"Is that what you want? Fine then, you'll get the punishment you deserve, slut", you hiss while gripping Juyeon's jaw, your manicured nails raking his porcelain skin, "Don't say I didn't warn you", you whisper into his ear and he releases one of the lewdest sounds you've ever heard in your life. "God, you're a desperate little bitch, aren't you, Lee Juyeon?", you ask while removing the detachable strap of your bag and clasp it on his choker, creating a make-shift leash. "Only for you, baby", he replies with a sultry voice and half-lidded eyes.

You pull him by the make-shift leash, and you push him onto the couch, where you settle yourself on his lap, his hard cock straining his already tight pants. You remove his shirt, exposing his chiseled body. Wasting no time, you attack his collarbones with your lips, trailing red and purple blotches on his soft skin. You bite the juncture of his neck teasingly and he releases breathy moans, making you chuckle. You grind your clothed core on his bulge, and the sweet friction makes Juyeon mewl again. He tries to reach for your crotch with his hand, but you stop him by pulling the leash, making him gasp.

"No sweetheart, no touching tonight", you chastise him, as you pull back to remove your clothes and his pants, leaving the both of you only in your underwear. Juyeon's bulge is even more evident now, the thin material of his boxers having a wet spot, due to his cock leaking pre-cum. The sight in front of you makes your own wetness pool in your panties - your boyfriend on a leash, his perfectly styled hair now disheveled, his upper torso covered in love bites, his muscular thighs fully spread and his cock straining against his boxers.

"Baby, fuck, please do something", he pleads with bleary eyes. "Lie down for me", you order and he's laid flat on his back with one swift motion, his desperation showing. You remove your underwear and place your naked pussy right in front of his face. He reaches for your thighs with his arms, but you slap them away. "I said, no touching", you say sternly, "But-", "You should have thought twice before touching that bitch with your hands. Now, be a good boy and use your pretty mouth", you demand.

Juyeon pushes his wet tongue into your heat without second thought and he's lapping up your juices like a starved man. You can't help but moan with satisfaction, having him under your control like that gave you a huge adrenaline rush. You raked your nails from his torso to the hem of his boxers, the sensation making him moan and momentarily halt his actions. You slap his left thigh to alert him and his cock twitches, the vibrations of his moans coursing through your body as well. Juyeon now flattens his tongue against your folds with a faster tempo.

"You like it when I spank you, huh? Naughty boy", you smirk and land another slap, this time on his right thigh. Juyeon retaliates by sucking on your clit harshly, making you yelp from pleasure and you feel him smirk against your pussy. You find the leash and tug it, pulling Juyeon's face even closer to your core. "Behave, or you'll sleep without cumming tonight", you warn him and he whines, but resumes his efforts nonetheless. "Good boy, k-keep it u-up", you stutter as you feel your high approach with each passing second. His tongue is alternating between circling your clit and pumping in and out of your hole, the squelching sounds creating a pornographic scene.

You scream as you cum on Juyeon's face, your whole body shaking, as he helps you ride out your orgasm with kitten licks. You pull yourself together and turn around to face him, as he nastily licks his lips to taste your essence. "Sweet like fucking candy", he comments, "Want a taste, baby?". You pull him by the leash and crash your lips on his, tasting yourself, as your tongues dance crazily in a battle of dominance. "You're still acting like a brat, but since you did as I said, maybe you deserve to cum after all", you state and bend down to remove his boxers and free his painfully hard erection.

"Y/N, stop fucking teasing already!", Juyeon whines again and you slap his thigh again, "Where did your manners go, baby?".

"Please, Y/N..."

"Please what?"

"Please use my cock to cum"

"Fuck, such a good boy", you moan and spear yourself onto his hard cock, the sudden stretch tipping between pain and pleasure. You give yourself almost no time to adjust and you start riding Juyeon like a mad woman. He pistons his hips in unison, pounding into you with a speed neither of your brains are able to register. You put your hands on his broad chest for support and he holds your hips with his hands so tight you might get bruises the next day. Neither of you are able to contain your obscene moans nor form coherent sentences, way too lost in pleasure and lust.

"Fuck, Juyeon, you're such a good boy, so good for me", "Only for you Y/N, shit- only yours", he groans and his hips start to falter, signaling his upcoming orgasm. "I-I'm close again, nngh..", you mewl as you feel your insides clench around his cock like a vice. "M-Me too, Y/N please let me cum, let me f-fill you up baby", "Oh God, yes, fill me with your cum, babe", you moan loudly.

Juyeon moans with you as he stills himself, his cock twitching uncontrollably and flooding your cunt with his hot cum, painting your insides white. You collapse on top of him, panting heavily, the both of you sweating and spent, laughing breathlessly. You muster all the strength you have left in you to remove the choker from Juyeon's neck.

"Oof, thank you baby", he nods, rubbing his neck softly. You swipe a few dark strands of his forehead. You notice the marks on his neck the choker left and you can't help but feel a little regretful. "Did I hurt you?", you ask sheepishly and Juyeon smiles softly and presses a kiss on your nose. "No baby, you were perfect. We should do this more often, actually. You look hella sexy when you take control", he teases and you playfully smack his chest.

"So you intend to dance with random girls in clubs?", you ask and Juyeon smirks,

"No, but I intend to be not such a good boy for you".

[willowbird]

Aah I need more smiling and laughing Andrew from you now please!!! I'll be happy with anything you want to do with that! 💜💜

We ALL need more smiling and laughing Andrew in our lives. It's just too purr. 😉

I hope you enjoy!

(Also, I’m like -- SUPER sorry this took so long to finish even though it’s just a lil drabble. I hope it was worth the wait!!)

-----

Dan checked her watch for the third time and frowned. "Jesus, where the hell are those two? We're gonna miss our reservation if we have to wait for them much longer."

Their family had been spread to the winds for years at this point, but they still managed to get together once a year for some sort of a reunion. This year they were back in Palmetto the week before Christmas (something they tried to do every other year around the holidays). Half of them had arrived in town last night and the rest only this morning, but they’d spent most of the day itself imposing on Wymack and Abby (who had finally moved in together). 

It had been a good time and though Abby had offered to cook for them, Dan had insisted that the whole team treat Abby and Wymack to dinner at a nice restaurant. Considering how many of them there were, the celebratory nature of the visit, and the general rowdiness of their group, it had been decided that the lot of them would carpool with Neil, Renee, and Kevin as the DDs. 

Renee and Kevin had already driven off with their allotted passengers, so now Dan and Matt were left waiting for Andrew and Neil to finish getting ready or whatever the fuck they were doing. 

“We won’t miss our reservation,” Matt assured with a chuckle, nudging her. “Miss out on the breadsticks? Well, that’s more likely...”

“Fuck that.” Dan was not missing out on breadsticks so that Andrew and Neil could get in a quickie before dinner. With that decided, she whirled on her heel and charged back into the house. She instinctively angled for the hallway that lead down to the guest bedrooms, intending to make as much noise as possible as she tromped down the hallway so as to alert them of her approach. She was less concerned about getting stabbed these days as she was about seeing parts of her friends that she really, really did not need to see. 

Not that Andrew and Neil were grossly all over each other now or anything, but the years seemed to have softened the both of them. It was no longer shocking to see them holding hands or leaning casually against each other. They traded easy, casual kisses in greeting and simple affection just like the rest of the couples -- though there was still this... weight to every interaction between Andrew and Neil that spoke of how hard-earned those simple, casual expressions of affection were for the pair. 

Dan didn’t begrudge them that. On the contrary, it warmed her heart every single time she caught one of those tiny actions of easy love and affection out of the corner of her eye. 

Accidentally walking into the wrong guest room and catching Andrew pinning Neil against the wall, both of them barely dressed, was an entirely other matter and Dan was never going to be able to scrub that image or the sound of the way Neil was fucking moaning out of her damn mind. 

Yeah. She was officially scarred for life. 

So, while she was done waiting for them she was also not willing to add more trauma to her already considerable payload. She took a deep breath and prepared to start shouting and stomping when soft sounds coming from the den caught her attention. Now, if it had only been the little meows and scrabbles of kittens playing that would not have made her pause. After all -- the whole team had spent about four hours straight this afternoon going positively gaga over the adorable little fuzzballs. Nancy, Abby and Wymack’s recent rescue cat turned out to be pregnant when they adopted her -- which they hadn’t realized at the time. Now they had a little bundle of kittens taking up space in the living room. Wymack had already tried to pass them out like candy to the rest of the team but no one had bitten. 

Well, that wasn’t true -- Nicky had wanted to take the whole litter, but Erik had kindly and calmly told him ‘no’ in such an effective way Nicky had dropped the subject with little more than a bit of pouting. 

So if it were just that, she wouldn’t have paused. 

No, it was the quiet murmuring that bubbled over the kitten sounds that drew her attention. Dan cut off her shout before she could utter it and pivoted smoothly, heading instead for the den. She slowed her steps as she approached, holding her breath so the sound of her breathing wouldn’t smother what she could now make out to be words.

“We have plenty of space.”

“Drew, while you aren’t wrong -- I don’t think that five kittens is the best way to start a family.”

“Because you are such an expert.”

“Drew.”

A sigh. “Three then.”

“What, not going to try for four?”

Andrew -- because it had to be Andrew, even though Dan was struggling to compute this particular conversation with Andrew ‘The Monster’ Minyard -- snorted in affront. “And leave just one all by itself? Don’t be stupid.”

Neil, because again -- it had to be Neil -- chuckled. “We are not taking three kittens home with us, Drew.”

There was a long silence and Dan risked peaking around the edge of the doorframe. Andrew Minyard was sitting on the floor with his back against the armchair, mostly facing away from the door and absolutely covered with kittens. One was on his shoulder, two were wrestling between his folded legs, and he was holding the other two against his chest, his face turned down as he nuzzled the little fuzzballs, all while glaring at Neil over the top of their furry heads. Well, Dan assumed he was glaring. She couldn’t actually see enough of his face to gauge his expression, but even covered with kittens this was still Andrew ‘I Wear Fucking Knives Everywhere’ Minyard, so she felt it was a safe enough assumption. 

Then again, she could see most of Neil’s face, and he was looking at Andrew with an expression that Dan had no other description for other than “abject adoration”. So who knew, maybe Andrew was smiling gently and...

Yeah, no probably not.

Neil sighed, and Dan knew that sound. It was the sound of a man too much in love to say ‘no’ to whatever his partner wanted. Of a person too much in love to say ‘no’ to their love’s request, actually -- because she knew that she’d made that sound more than once regarding Matt. 

“Alright, fine. But not three. Two. Two kittens. That way they won’t be alone and might be somewhat manageable.”

Dan thought that Neil was in for a rude awakening if he really thought that any number of cats were ‘manageable’, but she’d let him figure that out for himself. She could tell that Andrew was debating an argument, but he ultimately shrugged -- which she supposed was an agreement. Then he handed one of the kittens in his hands to Neil and gently scooped the one off his shoulder and added it to the squirming fluff-pile in his lap. 

Neil held up the kitten and studied it, then his face broke into a wide, bright smile as the little black poof reached out and batted at his nose with the sweetest little squeak. The sound must have drawn the attention of the other kittens because they suddenly all turned their attention to Neil and launched a less-than-coordinated assault, even the one in Andrew’s hands squirming free to jump onto Neil. Neil barked out a laugh in surprise and jumped, ending up on his back as the kittens overran him and took him for their own. 

With a sound that Dan didn’t really understand, Andrew pushed up to his knees and crawled around to be able to lean over Neil’s head as the kittens tussled and romped all over his partner. This change in angle allowed Dan to see Andrew’s face, and then her brain sort of caught up with her ears and she realized that she did know that sound -- because Andrew was making it again. He was laughing. It wasn’t a big laugh, not bright or rapid or voluminous. It was small, and soft, but there was a rich, deep quality to it that sang with genuine affection as he smiled down at Neil. 

“See? I still say we should take all five. They are already a well-formed strike team.” Andrew. It was Andrew ‘I Eat Strikers For Breakfast’ Minyard saying those words. Smiling softly down at Neil. Chuckling as he reached out and brushed just his thumb over the tiny head of a fuzzy black and gray kitten. 

“Two,” Neil said again, but Dan wondered exactly how firm he was going to be able to remain on that point with the way he was looking up at Andrew. “We can convince Aaron to take the other three then set up play-dates.”

Andrew laughed again, a quiet dance of sound between barely-curved lips. His eyes were still on the kittens. “Aaron would not know what to do with a cat.”

“Neither do I.”

Andrew looked down at Neil then and his expression lost the smile but became... so much more intimate that Dan almost looked away. “No,” he said. “But you have me.”

Dan’s chest tightened and she had to physically lift a hand to cover her mouth. She could feel the imprint of her own smile against her fingertips.

“Yes or no, Drew?”

“Yes.”

Dan turned away as Andrew leaned down to kiss Neil, slipping quietly down the hall to rejoin Matt. Maybe they could afford to be a little late to dinner.

[lil-lycanthropy]

How to write an essay (especially when you struggle with writing essays)

[Image Description: A graphic titled “BASIC ESSAY STRUCTURE”. There are 3 sections. The first section is regarding the introduction, labelled “Agonize for an hour”. The second section is regarding the body, labelled “oh hell yes i can do this no problem i got stuff to say i’m on a roll”. The third section is regarding the conclusion, labelled “I am going to walk into the sea”. /End Image Description]

I saw this post about essay writing with this as the structure and I just. Screamed a bit. The outline above (imo) makes a very boring essay that is UNNECESSARILY DIFFICULT to write. I was gonna just add onto the post, but I thought I’d make my own because I have a LOT to say.

So, to start off, I have spent far too long making this handy-dandy graphic with an essay structure that I find to be a lot more helpful.

[Image Description: A graphic titled “ESSAY OUTLINE”. There are 7 sections. They include the outline for the Introduction, Body, and Conclusion, along with tips for all three, and then a section for General Tips. /End Image Description]

There’s some pretty lengthy explanations under the cut, and I spent way too long on this. However, I’m passionate about writing and hate seeing how much people struggle to write simply because they haven’t been given the right tools.

Without further ado, here we go!

Introduction (1 paragraph)

Opening Statement: This is your intro/hook. With an effective opening sentence, you want to introduce the main topic of the paper, and make it interesting for the reader to draw them in. The introductory sentence should be somewhat objective; your thesis will be your arguing point, but we need to know the general topic without the bias. As for the hook part—your prof/TA/teacher/whoever is grading your paper has read the same paper 600 times. Your paper probably won’t be entirely unique, BUT you can still make it stand out. This is where the “hook” comes in. An easy way to do this is to simply start with a verb. Reading papers that all start with “the” or “a” can get really repetitive and boring, so an action word can be a good way to grab the reader’s attention. You don’t want your opening statement to be too long; a sentence or two should be your goal.

Allude to Thesis: Right after the opening statement, use a sentence to briefly allude to your thesis (the stance you’ll be taking on the topic). This way, you can state your argument points without having to worry about wording your thesis correctly right away, or risk your thesis getting lost within the introduction. This is kinda a segue to your points rather than its own official “section”, so keep it brief. 

Outline Supporting Points: These are the points that help support your argument. Avoid using a list form for this by using things like semi-colons or commas; each supporting point should have its own sentence. Saying that, definitely use transition words to help the sentences flow together so it doesn’t just seem like a laundry list. Don’t limit yourself to three points unless that’s explicitly part of the assignment. At least two is good if you can expand on them enough to do the paper, but don’t be afraid to use four or five if you’re still able to stay within the limits and expand on them enough to be individual points. However, sometimes too many points can make it hard to expand, so see if you can group some together if you have too many. 

Thesis: Your thesis should be a statement, subjective, demonstrable, and specific. It therefore should not be a question, objective, hypothetical, or vague. This is because your thesis is a definitive stance on a specific issue or topic that you can prove with evidence. As for placement, I always put my thesis at the very end of the introduction. I would say it’s up to personal preference whether to put it at the beginning or the end, but please never put it in the middle. When it’s in the middle, it’s very likely that it won’t stand out as a thesis, and then you’d have to come up with both an opening and closing statement, which is hard. I like putting it at the end because I find that if I do it at the beginning, it can be REALLY hard to balance having a clear thesis while also introducing your paper and making it interesting. Plus, if it’s at the end of your first paragraph, it still stands out, you don’t have to do a concluding statement, you don’t have to balance any other aspect of writing (like an intro or hook) with it, AND it creates the perfect transition to your supporting points. Limit your thesis statement to one or two sentences—you want it to stand out to the reader as the thesis, and you don’t want to muddle the message by being too detailed. You’ll have the rest of the paper to expand.

Body (2-10+ paragraphs)

Introduce Evidence: For each piece of supporting evidence (your main points), make sure you introduce them clearly before actually explaining everything about them. Don’t be afraid to word it in an interesting way (although remember, you still want your message to be clear!). I also want to give you an incredibly important tip: the amount of supporting points you have DOES NOT have to correspond with the amount of body paragraphs you have. They drill the five-paragraph essay outline into you for years, and it’s BORING—for you and whoever’s grading your paper. It’s also bad writing, because then you get unnaturally long paragraphs that take up a page and a half. So, unless your assignment rubric says otherwise, don’t be afraid to get creative with the paragraph amount. Always start a new paragraph when introducing a new main point, but definitely consider splitting the main point into two or three paragraphs if needed. Disclaimer: sometimes if you have to split a point into multiple paragraphs, that means you might want to consider splitting the main point into multiple main points. On the other hand, sometimes combining two main points into one can help make a paragraph more substantial.

Expand: For each point, expand. Explain any extra details. Relate the explanations back to your main point so you can stay on target and not go on tangents that take up half the page. 

Connect to Thesis: After you expand each point, as a concluding statement, relate the main point back to the thesis (the whole point of the paper!). Anyone can list evidence—show that you understand why this evidence is connected and how it proves your stance. If you can’t connect the point to your thesis, it’s probably not relevant or you need to do more research. By making the connection between the evidence and your thesis, 1. This is how you get bonus marks, and 2. It makes for an excellent concluding statement/transition to the next main point.

Repeat: For each main point, follow the structure of introduce-expand-connect.

Conclusion (1 paragraph)

Restate Thesis/Main Points: Rather than coming up with another introductory statement, restate your thesis and the main points that helped to prove your thesis. Please try to reword it so it’s not repetitive, and it’s best to keep the restating brief. You’ve already established all of this in your paper, so you don’t need too much detail. A sentence or two is fine. Another tip is to avoid basic concluding words. Sometimes it’s unavoidable, but definitely avoid the ones that involve the word “conclude” or its derivatives (e.g. “in conclusion”; to conclude”, etc.). Keep this part to one or two sentences to avoid the dreaded repetition.

Explain Relevance/Make Connections: Here is something I NEVER see in the common essay templates, and honestly, I feel like it’s one of the most important things with essay writing. It’s the difference between just another essay in a pile of 200, and one that stands out as exemplary. SO. We know your thesis. We know your evidence. You’ve even briefly restated it in case we forgot. Now, WHY is your thesis (and by extension, the paper you just spent a few hours on) actually important? Why is it relevant? Who cares? You don’t want to give too much “new” information, but you really should be able to find some connection as to why your paper matters. Because if you don’t see the point in it, how are you gonna convince the reader that your paper is worth reading? Essays are about arguments, yes, and convincing people that You’re Correct and You Know Things, but you need to be able to connect with other things to see the true relevance. Make connections, folks!

Concluding Statement: Truly the bane of anyone’s existence. A good tip is to look at it as your Mic Drop moment—your time to wrap it up, drop the mic, and walk offstage. Tie your thesis, evidence, and connections together into a sentence or two with a little pizzazz and sense of finality, leaving no room to argue. 

General Tips

Know your audience: This can sometimes help with finding the balance between over- and under-explaining things. With essays, the person grading (the audience) is probably a bit above your current level, unless it’s being marked by another student or something. So write at your level—or the average level of your class/group. For example, if you’re in a second-year university biology class, you probably don’t need to explain what photosynthesis means. But if your essay is on a little known technique to measure chlorophyll levels in plants, you might need to explain some things that you already know, but others might not. Remember, your goal is neither to dumb yourself down nor put yourself on an academic pedestal—your goal is to communicate a message in an effective way that can be understood by the appropriate audience.

Pick a relevant topic: Sometimes this doesn’t apply, as you have limited choices. But, whenever possible, choose a topic that you actually know something about and/or are willing to write about. Sometimes even asking your teacher/prof if you can choose your own topic is worth it. The main point: picking something you find interesting makes you more willing to put in the work to write a good essay. Pick you favourite topic out of the options (or, at a minimum, the one yo hate the least).

Experiment with the writing process: Some people swear it’s easier to write the conclusion first, while others absolutely have to write the essay in chronological order. Some people need to finish what they start, some people need to flit around and add things as they think of them. Ultimately, the order you write things is very much a personal preference, and something worth experimenting with if you’re struggling!

Cater to your writing needs: Writers will tell you that they need to set up a space to write. Some people like writing on their bed or in a cafe. Some people need absolute quiet while others can’t focus without background noise. Some people need frequent breaks for the best results, others need to sit through until they’re done. The time of day can affect your writing—writing in the morning might be really difficult if you’re most alert at midnight. Lastly, experiment with different media. Maybe writing on a laptop just doesn’t work for you, and pen and paper is the way to go. Typewriters are fun. Microsoft Word might work better for you than Google Docs. Find out what works for you and gets you into a writing headspace.

Repetition and word choice: To avoid sounding like a broken record, make sure you use a different first (and even last) word for each paragraph. I always notice when an essay writer only starts paragraphs with the word “the”. Another helpful way to vary your word choice at the beginning of paragraphs is to use different types of word, preferably words that aren’t articles (a, an, or the). Using a noun, verb, or transition word can keep things interesting and help your writing flow.

Write with an active voice: Writing with an active, positive, and resolute voice fortifies your writing. An active voice is when the subject is the focus rather than the object, whereas a passive voice is the opposite. Example: “Sally ate a grape” is active because Sally (subject) ate a grape (object). “A grape was eaten by Sally” is passive because the grape (object) was eaten by Sally (subject). Essentially, if the sentence includes (or could include) “by [Subject]”, it’s passive. Even if you wrote “A grape was eaten,” that’s still passive. An active voice includes the subject doing the action, whereas a passive voice includes the object having something done to it. It’s a wishy-washy way of writing, though it’s sometimes inevitable in formal writing because you can’t use subjective pronouns. As for a positive voice, it doesn’t mean your essay has to be happy or perky—it means your writing, when possible, should focus on the positive part (what did happen or was added) rather than the negative part (what didn’t happen or was taken away). Example: “Sally didn’t eat an apple” is negative, because it just says what Sally didn’t do. “Sally ate a grape” is positive because it said what she did do. Lastly, use a resolute voice. Be concise and to the point without muddling the message with unnecessary words. Example: “Sally just a grape” is tentative. “Sally ate a grape” is resolute. Word like “just”, “maybe”, “really”, “perhaps”, “necessarily” are not resolute and can weaken your argument. Definitely take this advice for your thesis. 

Communicate clearly: Using long or complicated words can improve your writing—but if they’re overused or used unnecessarily, it can actually weaken your argument because no one understands what you’re trying to say under all that academic jargon. If you can’t explain your argument in an understandable way, you probably don’t have a good grasp of your argument. This isn’t to discredit people who have a hard time articulating while writing or people who need to use complicated words—but the whole point of a paper is to communicate a message in an effective way. If you’re too caught up in using big words, it’s very easy to lose the actual focus of the paper.

Fortify your opening/closing statements: If the person grading your paper has a lot of other papers to go through, they’re not gonna read every word you write. Focus on strengthening your first and last sentences of each paragraph to perhaps improve your mark with the graders who skim.

Proofread: PLEASE read through and edit your work. You don’t have to completely rewrite your paper (who has the time???), but definitely proofread it when you’re done. If possible (I know it isn’t always, but it really helps), give yourself as much time as possible, then do another read through. Even waiting an hour or two and then going through it again can help you catch some last-minute mistakes. When you’ve been staring at the same paper for three hours, you kinda just ignore the mistakes because they’re burned into your brain. Going back can help you catch them and fix them before handing it in. Double check the assignment requirements, including formatting, sources, grammar, etc.

Kudos to you if you made it to the end! This took me 4 hours? 5? I hope it helps some of you in school. Essays can be a really fun thing to write if you’re passionate about the topic, and they shouldn’t be nearly as hard as school makes them. Even if you didn’t read this whole thing, I hope my graphic can be helpful! The original essay structure from the other post made me mad because no wonder some of you guys struggle! When you don’t have the tools, it makes life difficult.

Here’s a pic of my cat and dog for making it this far!

End note: I’ve never done an image description so I apologize if it’s not perfect!

[karikarasuno]

The Sun Doesn’t Shine in Tokyo, Part II

Pairing: Tanaka Ryunosuke x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Angst, Character Death(s), Violence, Graphic Descriptions of Injuries, Mentions of Blood, Grief, Smut, Soft Sex, Vague knowledge of Computer Engineering (once again, please bear with me)

Summary: The end is near. Time is quickly running out. Hope is fleeting, but not entirely gone.

Part I | Part II

Word Count: 9.8k

June 17, 2065

8:24am

It’s morning. The digital clock on his bedside table flashed 8:24am, the angular digits barely seen through the grogginess of your sleepy brain. You shift to go back to sleep, which easily draws you in until there’s a stinging burn on your side. Your wound is itchy and uncomfortable.

“Shh,” fingers are brushing the hair on your forehead from your eyes. “Just gimme a second. This is gonna hurt.”

A wet cloth is pressed to the wound, the stinging sensation returning as you feel the alcohol clean out the dirt and grime from the night before. You squeeze your eyes shut and bite your lip to deal with the temporary pain. “I’m sorry, a little longer then I’ll be done.”

The cloth is removed as you sit up to rest on the headboard, too awake after the cold stinging to go back to bed. A calloused hand comes to stroke your cheek, chapped lips pressing a tender kiss to your temple. “Morning,” you croak, voice rough with sleep.

“G’morning, baby,” you can tell he’s been up for a while, the hoarseness that usually cracks his voice almost entirely gone.

“I should probably shower and then head downstairs. I never actually got the chance to brief everyone on what happened.”

“Don’t worry about it. Yamaguchi already did late last night. So just shower and meet me in the conference room for breakfast,” Tanaka explains before he pushes off his side of the bed, fully dressed as he places clean clothes for you on his dresser. Yachi probably gave them to him this morning and you remember you have to apologize to her today since you most likely sent her into cardiac arrest last night.

Lethargy and anticipation dictate the way you go about your morning, hardly remembering how you ended up sitting between Tanaka and Yamaguchi at the first officer strategy meeting of the day, showered and your gash freshly wrapped. Suga and Daichi are running it, images of the city’s infrastructure holographically displayed above the switchboard. The 3D landscape spinning and flickering as they outline different plans for tonight.

You didn’t realize your leg was bouncing beneath the table until Tanaka’s hand spread out on your thigh to stop it. “You listening?” He questions staring at you intently. Your thoughts have honestly traveled elsewhere, so you shake your head no.

“Do you have the tracking device?” Daichi repeats.

“Oh, no I don’t,” you lean forward and adjust your posture. “I slipped it into Oikawa’s pocket before he lost his shit, but I’m not sure if it survived the crash,” you explain, recalling the exact moment when he was gripping your chin, the distraction of your dagger on his sternum giving you enough time to plant it on him.

“We’ll have to ask Kenma then, maybe he can still locate it. And if that’s the case we’ll be able to see where he is, what he’s up to.”

The meeting continues, your attention drifting in and out trying to formulate a solid plan of your own. Something to ensure that everyone makes it out alive. After your encounter with Iwaizumi you were especially concerned about fighting an army of volunteers. Not that you weren’t confident in the people here, but you managed to plunge your dagger into one of his arteries and he still got up at Oikawa’s demand.

“The tunnels are a no go,” Yamaguchi says at some point when they began deciding on entry routes. “The grenade I threw blocked the only entrance we had into the basement.” You nod in confirmation as you remember the chunks of rubble and debris that were now closing in the stairs.

“The main entrance is our best shot. It’s bold and what they’ll least be expecting. There’s also a chance we could disarm the alarm system if we can break through the firewall. We have the manpower, the only unknown are the volunteers and what they’re fully capable of,” you add on, the floorplan of the estate replacing the flickering city. You stand to describe the various points of entry and what you assume would be the places they are most likely going to have guards stand outside.

“You should have the long range fighters stationed here,” your finger hovers over a patch of tall trees near one of the side doors. “And here,” you shift to point out an area near the front that is also beneath the shadows of the woods.

“Those specialized in hand to hand combat should form the frontlines, while everyone else flanks out in a diamond formation. Yachi in the middle with y/n and Yamaguchi,” Suga suggests while he visually demonstrates the formation on one of the large screens. “Since Yachi doesn’t have much combat experience Tanaka and Terushima will go with them,” he tacks on, giving Tanaka a pointed look.

“And obviously because the two of you are practically useless with your injuries,” Suga teases before he proceeds to assign and explain other roles. The rest of the meeting moves forward without a hitch and everyone agrees on the plan that factored in as many uncertainties as possible. The chairs scrape against the floor as the officers shuffle out to start preparing for tonight.

You stand with Tanaka’s hand in yours and start to make your way through the first floor before you stop in front of one of the only staircases in the building. “I’m actually gonna go visit Kenma,” you explain as Tanaka looks at you silently confused.

“I wanted to ask him a few questions before tonight,” you add as you slip your hand from his and he gives you a solid shrug.

“Alright, I’ll be in the vault, checking the inventory,” he grins, his hands circling your waist to pull you into his sturdy frame. “Maybe I’ll be able to find you a better weapon,” he bends to toy with the dagger on your thigh that you refused to travel without after last night.

“Better?!,” you feign offense. “You don’t think my dagger makes me look sexy?” You grin cheekily at him as his own teasing smile spreads across his face.

“Oh, I always think you look sexy. But you know what would make you look even sexier,” he leans down so that he’s staring directly into your eyes, voice dipping low. “Protection,” his eyes glint with mischief and a knowing smirk settles on his lips.

You shove him lightly and playfully smack the side of his head, his beanie shifting sideways. “Haha so funny,” you roll your eyes as your smile brightens. “Gimme some options and we’ll see.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he responds when you turn around to walk away, his palm smacking your ass as you bound up the steps. “Payback for the beanie,” his hands rise in defense before he winks at you and turns to keep walking down the hall.

You take the steps two at a time like you usually do, except now you have your healing gash as a reminder to slow down. Unlike the other floors in the building the second level is a single large room coined the “Zone” by many of the guys. One half hosts Kuroo’s test lab, usually unkempt with sulfur and boiling chemical concoctions covering the surfaces. The other half belongs to Kenma with his various half built devices stuck between keyboards and multicolored wires.

While Kuroo often ventures out into the other rooms of the hideout to seek socialization, you can always find Kenma sitting exactly where he is now. Headset nestled over his ears, hair pulled back in a messy bun with his controller tight in his hands.

You walk up behind him and pull one of the cuffs from his ear. “Hey loser,” you release the set from your grasp so it snaps back on to his head, this time all lopsided.

“Not a loser,” he responds as he shakes his head so that the headphones fall back around his neck. His screens flashing a bold ‘victory’ to affirm that he is, in fact, not a loser.

“You are the only person I know who can play video games the day our world might end,” you say with a laugh when he shoots you an apathetic stare.

The relationship between you and Kenma developed rather naturally, a sibling connection unfolding before either of you realized. On your many sleepless nights wandering and exploring the compound you often found yourself here. At first, you stumbled upon him accidentally in the middle of the night, while everyone else was either asleep or working on their own projects to prepare for the upcoming conflicts. He awkwardly invited you to sit with him as he played or tinkered with new or semi thought out inventions. You really only watched at first, curiosity overcoming your intentions to not disturb him, but you soon found yourself asking questions. The questions turning into overnighters where he would teach you how to play his favorite games or help him code software he would embed in his tiny devices.

He puts his remote down and swivels in his chair to face you. “I was brainstorming,” the corner of his lips quirk up a little as he gets up and bumps your shoulder with his to step around you.

“Brainstorming what exactly?” You ask, your eyes following his thin frame as he walks to his crafts table and picks up a few things. He tilts his head to signal for you to walk over to him. “I’ll show you.”

You move to stand beside him and he hands off the small devices to you. You inspect them and realize they are watches, complete with a touch screen center and small dials on each side.

“These are reinforcement devices,” he says. “I don’t have enough for everyone but you clasp them around your wrist and twist the dials. A shield will manifest from here,” he points to the watch’s face, and what you incorrectly assumed was a touch screen surface is actually a reflection of the software’s veil.

“This is actually the code you helped me develop a few weeks back.” You smile up at him fondly, remembering the argument you got into after he refused to explain what it was for.

“How many do you have?”

“Six are complete,” he answers. “But I also have this.” He grabs a larger cylindrical device from a shelf attached to the wall.

“This is essentially a bigger version of those. The shield covers way more surface area. You can stick it to a wall or door, enter the pin and the shield will reinforce the structure to protect whatever’s inside,” he finished explaining before he places it back on the shelf.

“When did you have time to do all of this?” His production rate when it comes to his inventions is impressive to say the least.

He takes some of the reinforcement devices from you to organize them beside the others. “You know I hardly sleep,” he shrugs as if his lack of rest doesn’t bother you.

You open your mouth to voice this for the millionth time, but he lifts his finger to shush you. “Don’t. I get it,” he interrupts.

“Fine. But this doesn’t explain why you were brainstorming,” you say instead of nagging him about his awful sleep schedule, not that yours was really any better.

“Right,” he slides you over by your shoulders to switch spots. “This is for you,” he opens the locker in the corner of the room to pull something out. It’s another round device about two inches thick with small legs to hold it up.

“What’s this?” Your intrigue successfully piqued.

“Just watch,” he walks to Kuroo’s lab table and pushes some stuff around to clear a spot.

“I’ve been working on this for a while now,” he grabs his phone from his back pocket and punches in his password and then opens an app. The device begins to illuminate as streaks of ultraviolet waves burst through the top. “It’s a simulation machine that kinda works. I can’t seem to get the graphics right for some reason, hence the gaming,” he explains.

“So you’re saying you wouldn’t have been playing regardless,” you say, which earns you an eye roll from him and a chuckle from you.

“Pay attention,” he points to the device, redirecting your attention instead of answering you. There’s a distinct humming noise before the room’s image starts to ripple. A pixelated version of a beach envelopes the room warping and disguising the furniture.

“It’s not perfect, but it’s an illusion that can trick enemies into believing they are somewhere else,” he whispers, looking a bit sheepish. “I’ve only been able to generate this stock photo, but eventually I want it to replicate different rooms or even scenery we haven’t experienced in a while.”

“Kenma,” your voice is wistful as you absorb the sway of the palm trees, the gentle rolling of the waves lapping the shores. “This is amazing. H-how did you do this?”

“I had Yachi’s help. She came up one night freaking about the control center’s algorithm and asked if I could help since you and Yamaguchi were already asleep. We ended up talking about sunsets, mainly her rambling,” he lightly snorts. “So I showed her some games with high resolution graphics that had some pretty cool sunsets and she came up with this. She coded it really quickly while I built it. I just haven’t been able to fix the kinks.”

You were near tears. The words escaped you, but mostly because you could never describe what you were feeling out loud. The snapshot of a panicking Yachi running to Kenma makes you laugh because there is no way he calmed her down without having a silent stroke of his own.

“And this is for me?” You ask for clarification before the tears really start falling.

“Yeah,” he raises his hand to rub at the back of his neck. “Other than computer engineering, you are really the only thing we have in common.”

“Kenma, I-,”

“Woah!” You both turn to what used to be the floor’s entrance, which is now limitless sand. “The beach! This is so cool!” Hinata squeals, his eyes lighting up with wonder and amazement.

“Oh hey, Shoyo,” Kenma fumbles with his phone to turn off the display.

“What’s up?” You’re grateful for his interruption, afraid you were about to become a sobbing mess in front of Kenma, which he would not have appreciated.

“Tanaka asked me to come get you,” his smile is wide and enthusiastic. “Said something about your options being ready.”

“Of course he actually went through with it,” you shake your head not the slightest bit surprised.

“Also said if you don’t hurry he’s not afraid to kick some ass,” Hinata adds on, his smile turning impishly cheeky.

“Of course he did,” you laugh before turning back to Kenma, who’s a subtle shade of red.

“We aren’t done here,” you tell him, knowing how flushed he gets when he’s alone with Hinata and you walk away from him backwards until you’re standing behind your new guest. “Watch him, he’s known to cause trouble,” you whisper to Hinata but it’s still loud enough from him to hear you.

“Oh, I know,” he plays along, only for Kenma’s neck to burn a brilliant red as Hinata steps further into the Zone. You make kissy faces behind his back to tease him as much as possible before you run down the stairs, narrowly missing the object he threw at you.

June 17, 2065

4:57pm

The gun is spinning on the turntable in front of you. The gun you and Tanaka compromised on. It’s a small black pistol, the deep metal drinking in the harsh light from the screens lining the walls as it spins and spins. In the center of the room, Yachi is typing vigorously, the reversal code practically finished, but she tended to be a perfectionist, so you sit beside her waiting for it to be done.

“I can help,” you offer, hoping she will let you this time. She just glances at you, a flick of anxiety flashing in her gaze before she shakes her head no.

“Why not?”

“It’s already done,” she responds, fingers still tapping on the keys. “I just have to double check if everything is in order.”

“Well, what is it?” You’ve been begging for her to share the code with you, trying to convince her that it would be smarter if more than one person had it, especially if she’s not able to reach the control center in time.

“Not telling you,” her hair falls to cover her face as she looks down at her stilled hands. “It has to be me. I just need for you to get me there.”

“Yachi, c’mon, at least tell Yams,” you argue, not understanding why she won’t share the information with anyone.

“S-sorry,” is all she says in response, and you let out an agitated sigh because you won’t win this argument. “What’s with the gun?” She motions towards it with her hand as she leans back in her chair, avoiding the initial topic.

“Tanaka doesn’t believe my dagger is enough protection,” you look back down at the spinning gun and your chest tightens at the mere idea of having to use it. “It was this or a fucking katana.”

She laughs, the abruptness startling you, but she doubles over and wheezes. A blush is blooming on her cheeks at the lack of oxygen going to her lungs, her laugh turning into hiccups and breathless gasps. It’s contagious, your own laugh soon wracking through you.

“I don’t get it,” you say through snorts. “What’s so funny?”

“I cannot imagine you wielding a katana,” tears of laughter are decorating her face. “You’d probably accidentally cut off your own arm before you manage to land it on anyone else.” She’s wiping the tears from her eyes as her breath slowly returns, her cheeks still flushed a pretty pink.

“I take offense to that. I would be such a badass with one,” you rebuttal.

“Sure,” she squeaks out.

“I just might need a little practice first.”

She falls into a fit of giggles again, probably imagining you tripping over the long blade forgetting that she’s the clumsy one. Your cheeks are hurting from smiling, a warmth rooting itself within you, and for the first time in weeks the flower of hope feels like it will bloom soon. The delicate petals unfurling with a promise of prosperity, a promise that things will be okay.

“Hey,” Tanaka bursts through the door, a little out of breath like he ran here. “Kenma was able to track Oikawa. He’s still at the estate, probably never left.”

“You think he’s still alive?” You jump from your seat, Yachi at your side in an instant.

“Definitely. Yamaguchi said you left him in the basement, but Kenma can see his movements and he’s currently on the move.”

“But what if it’s not him? What if someone just found his body and is carrying it around?” You are skeptical, unsure if Oikawa was able to survive two gunshot wounds and a crash.

“First of all, that’s nasty,” he wrinkles his nose in disgust. “Second of all, I don’t think it matters. The person, Oikawa or not, is heading to the control center. We have five hours before the thing is set to explode, so we leave in four.”

“Got it. The reversal code is ready,” Yachi interjects before you can. “I’m ready,” she straightens her shoulders, eyes determined as she meets yours.

You grab the gun that is now still on the table and place it in the holster on your hip. “Me too.”

June 17, 2065

9:22pm

The front of the estate is surrounded by steel poles, roughly 16 feet tall. Weaved between each pole are copper wires that conduct heat and electricity constantly, making it difficult to enter without burns or electric shocks. Fortunately, Kenma was able to hack into the compound's firewall rather easily since it had been abandoned for months and disconnected the alarm system.

The group gathers around the front gate, those who specialize in combat form the first row and once you enter the plan is to split into various smaller groups. You would head straight to the control center with Yachi and Yamaguchi, while Tanaka and Terushima serve as bodyguards. Yamaguchi’s ankle is doing better, his limp gone and the reinforcement device adorning his wrist. You are all wearing bulletproof vests, the material surprisingly thin and breathable as it’s strapped over your tank top. Your cut is safely hidden beneath it.

The gates are set to open at 9:30, the distance fighters successfully hidden in the trees while everyone else fans out on either side of your group. Kuroo managed to hand out flash grenades and smoke bombs to every unit, the sulfur in the lab results of failed bombs that blew up prematurely. You search the crowd counting the bodies, committing the number to memory; twenty-six, hoping that it will be the same when you exit tonight.

Kenma is standing next to Kuroo and you watch as he sends up a mini drone. The device flying into the trees and an image of Hinata and Nishinoya flash on his phone. The boys are settled high up in the trees, Noya’s crossbow strapped to his back, while Hinata is busy tying knots into rope, his knives and shuriken hidden beneath his clothing.

You start to feel the signs of a tension headache strain your neck, the anticipation sucking your soul from the confines of your skin. Tanaka is kneeling in front of you and you stare at the muscles of his back flex and relax through his black sleeveless shirt as he laces up his boots. Once he’s finished he twists on the balls of his feet to face you, hands going to check your laces and tucking the hem of your cargos into them, your ankles thanking him for the extra support.

“It’s almost time,” he whacks your thigh so you look down at him. “You ready?”

You give him a small nod, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“You remember the plan, right? Once we enter those doors you stay behind me. I’ll say when the coast is clear, but if things get too crazy, Yachi is the priority,” he rises from his position. “Get her to the control center, then find me. Don’t do anything irrational,” he finishes.

You give him a nervous laugh, “I’ll try.”

“No, it’s not you’ll t-”

“I’m kidding, Ryu,” you cut him off.

“Not funny, love,” he turns around to settle next to Terushima, whose arm is extending behind him, pinky linking with Yamaguchi’s.You link your arms with Yachi’s as you wait, only five more minutes left.

“Welcome!” Everyone’s attention snaps to the balcony above the double doors of the entrance. Oikawa is standing there, pale and bloody. “I wasn’t expecting to have this many guests come to watch the end with me. This is so heartwarming.”

The gates creak and shudder as they shuffle open. Volunteers begin to reveal themselves from their hiding spots to gather at the front doors, but no one on your side of the gates moves. Your hand wraps around the hilt of your dagger and your stance shifts so that Yachi is partially blocked by you.

He spots you in the crowd and he has the nerve to smirk at you, the once endearing gesture looks pained on his hollowed cheeks and sunken eyes. A daunting beauty transforming his features. “Oh, darling, I’ve been expecting you,” he waves with his good hand, his injured arm is supported with a sling.

“I’m sure you’re glad to see me alive, but Iwa didn’t make it,” you can’t tell if he actually is pained by this with the way he sulks and leans on the rails. “So obviously I can’t let you leave here alive,” he giggles, almost drunkenly. “An eye for an eye or whatever they used to say.”

“I’ll kill him,” Tanaka snarls, gun pointing at Oikawa. You grip his arm to yank it down, fully aware that now is not the time.

“What was that about being irrational?” You hiss at him so he lowers his weapon. Oikawa sees this and you watch his entire demeanor change, his taunting gaze igniting into something far more terrifying.

“Who’s this, princess? You brought me a new toy?” His tone is flat, monotone. “Since you killed my last one!” You flinch at the rise in his voice, the rebels frozen in disbelief, a motivating fear beginning to billow through the crowd.

“We need to move,” Daichi’s deep voice diminishes Oikawa’s immediately. “NOW,” he screams and he’s the first on the move, gun firing shot after shot in the volunteers’ direction.

“STOP THEM!” Oikawa’s shrill shriek is hardly heard above the sounds of battle, but the volunteers do not hesitate. Their smell smacking the air from your lungs, no description adequate enough to warn you. Yachi’s hand is now firm in yours as you run close behind Tanaka. Your dagger unsheathed as your biceps tense with untapped energy. You slip through the front doors quickly, most of the fighting designated to those who formed the front lines.

You deduce that the volunteers are abnormally strong as you witness them tear metal like paper, and crack the estate’s concrete in single punches. Luckily, they are incredibly slow, their limbs swing and jerk in unsynchronized movements, as if they are babies taking their first steps. The rebels on the other hand are nimble, even the largest members fight with the agility of trained ballerinas, their movements fluid and graceful.

You yell for Tanaka and Terushima to take the stairs down to the basement. The claustrophobic idea of being stuck in an elevator is enough to stop your heart. Terushima reaches the door first, the force with which he tears it open rips it from its hinges.

You fly down the first flight, your grip on Yachi never loosening. Yamaguchi brings up the end, he’s holding nunchucks that you have no idea where he got them from. He flicks his wrist to swing them at one of the volunteers that followed you, the wood thwacking against her nose, splatters of blood erupt from her skull and dot Yamaguchi’s skin as she crumples to the floor, her body splaying out across the steps. “Don’t stop running!” He yells, hand grabbing Yachi’s elbow pushing you down the final flight to the basement.

The elevator dings at the end of the hallway, a ghastly Oikawa steps through and you catch a glimpse of silver. At first, you thought it had to be his veins visible through his milky skin, but now you can see the thin lines of silver snaking throughout his body. “He did not look like that yesterday,” Yamaguchi skids to a stop behind you.

Tanaka and Terushima have their weapons raised in front of you, a spear twirling in Teru’s hand. “Where’s the control room, Oikawa?” Tanaka calls out, his voice dripping with poison.

“Why would I tell you when they already know?” He quips, his retort losing substance when a wet cough breaks through his chest. “As you can see I can’t put up much of a fight,” he coughs again, dribbles of thinning blood leaks from his lips. “Iwa’s device doesn’t suit me too well,” he leans his neck to the side, a sickening pop coming from it.

“Iwa’s what?” You say it before you mean to, the situation only becoming creepier with every drop of new knowledge.

“You see, when Iwa was crushed, I found his body in the rubble. The implants we use jutting out from the skin between his shoulder blades, so I tore it out,” he staggers towards your group, the leg he was shot in scraping against the floor with each step. “I inserted it into the bullet wound above my knee,” he points to his twisted leg. “That way Iwa and I will always be together.”

“Dude, what the fuck,” Terushima says behind his hand as he gags. The smell of rotting flesh and rusty metal wafting through the hall with each drag of Oikawa’s leg.

You know he’s not down here alone, that he probably has volunteers stationed somewhere near the control center, but that’s down the hall, through another room. The five of you don’t stand a chance alone without knowing exactly how many are here. You also know that Oikawa’s breaths are numbered, his body actively rejecting the implant stealing away his time like he’s stalling yours.

“But if you really want to know,” he draws in a shallow breath and stops a few feet away from your group. “The control center is down this hall through that room,” he points to his right, the door cracked open. “I’ll let you pass, but good luck. I already input the code,” he inches towards the door and dramatically looks at his watch. “Seems like you only have 8 minutes.” 

He wags his fingers at you as he leans into the door, his weight pushing it open fully and he disappears in the darkness. Tanaka’s running first, fluidly rushing to the open door, but before he reaches it many of the other ones open. Decaying bodies hauling the burden of their transformation into the corridor. “Ryu, wait!” You call out to him but he’s already surrounded. He unsheathes the sword strapped to his back and swings it out in a swift circular arc to force the volunteers back. You count seven in total, all focused dangerously on your boyfriend. 

Terushima bends down in front of the three of you and unzips the pouch clipped around his hips. “Fall back,” he says.

“What’re you gonna do?” Yamaguchi bends at the waist to look over his shoulder. “I’m gonna use one of the stun grenades to distract them. Tanaka’s quick on his feet and he’ll know he only has a split second to escape. But first I need you guys to fall back.”

You’re hesitant at first, but Yachi tugs you away from them while Yamaguchi follows, still a step ahead. “Tanaka, get ready!” Terushima yells before he pulls the clip and tosses it. The grenade rolling to a stop at Tanaka’s feet. 

“Get down,” you turn to tackle Yachi in your arms, your body shielding her from any fallout. The flashes and popping noises signaling its detonation. You look up when some of the noise dies down, the door leading to the control center swinging wildly while the volunteers trip over themselves, disoriented and scattered at the end of the hall. You missed the exact moment, but three of the volunteers were now on the ground, their implants sliced out from their shoulder blades. The pincers on the devices opening and closing in search for their host. 

“Thanks, Tanaka,” Teru whispers in awe. “Impressive bastard took three of ‘em out on his own and discovered that you disable them by removing those creepy shits,” he laughs.

“Okay, babe, we’ll go in before the ladies,” he stands and helps Yamaguchi to his feet. “You take the small one in the corner. Leave the three big guys to me,” he smirks. 

“Now’s not the time to compete, Teru,” Yamaguchi sighs, grabbing a switchblade from his pocket, while clutching the revolver in his other hand.

“A little healthy competition never hurt nobody,” he nudges Yamaguchi with his shoulder, sending him a sly wink. “Trust me.” 

The boys bolt forward, weapons in hand as they twirl in combat, the first heavy body thumping to the ground. They clear the path for you and Yachi quickly, the space in front of the door now empty.

You grab Yachi and book it. Your concern for Tanaka’s safety rises exponentially as you rush to the control center, where he and Oikawa surely are.

The room opens up and near the center you see Oikawa and Tanaka arguing loudly, Tanaka’s gun pointing at Oikawa while he grips the sword behind him to keep the volunteers at bay. The control center is blinking, digital numbers floating above the panel counting down ominously. You have five minutes left and the prospects of disabling the system are low. The ring of volunteers lining the perimeter is your main obstacle because at any given moment their motionless blank stares could be activated. 

“What do we do?” Yachi whispers hurriedly beside you, no one noticing the two of you enter the room yet. 

“We get you to the panel in the next five minutes. How?” You’re trying to think as fast as possible. “I don’t know yet.” Thoughts are racing through your mind, words popping out to form some coherent thought before you rattle out your best plan. 

“I’ll distract Oikawa. You run as fast as you can to the panel,” you suggest. “And we pray some of the other rebels show up as back up.”

“That doesn’t sound like a very good plan,” Yachi bites the nail on her thumb.

“Well unless you have something better, I can’t think of anything else,” you respond, eyebrows raised and she shakes her head no. 

“So just walk behind Oikawa and hopefully he won’t see you. Once you’re out of his line of sight I’ll say something to get his attention,” you explain.

“Got it,” she nods, releasing your hand as she steps across your body to start moving towards the control center. The boys are still arguing and you get the sense that Tanaka knows you're there. Coincidentally, maneuvering his body to obscure Yachi until she isn’t visible to him.

“Tooru,” your voice echoes in the chamber. “How about we talk this out?”

His voice dies in his throat once he notices you. Somehow surprised that you would chase them down here. “I know I blew up on you in the past but just give me another chance. We can stall all of this,” you wave your hands around at the control center and all the volunteers. “And maybe come to a compromise.” 

Four minutes.

“Compromise? As if you even know the meaning of the word, princess,” there’s no endearment in his tone anymore. Just condescension and disgust. “I’ll start by killing your boyfriend and you can watch me. Then I’ll kill all your pathetic friends. Saving my sweet, sweet love for last,” his voice is eerily flat, similar to when he was speaking from the balcony earlier. 

Three minutes, twenty-three seconds.

“You son of a bitch, I’d like to see you try,” Tanaka growls, the sword that was pointed at the volunteers now positioned over Oikawa’s chest. “I’ll tear your heart out before you can lay a finger on her.”

“I sense a challenge,” Oikawa chuckles and steps so the tip of the sword is touching his chest. “Let’s test that. You heard him, right guys? Why don’t we see if this knight in shining armor can save his damsel in distress,” he knows he’s going to die here, he’s smiling from ear to ear at Tanaka and he reaches to wrap his hand around the sharp edge of the sword, blood spilling from his palm down his wrist. “Kill them.”

The volunteers bumble forward, their numbers overwhelming the three of you. Tanaka pulls his sword from Oikawa’s hand to go after them. Yachi is almost to the control panel, but a volunteer suddenly blocks her path, lunging to crush her beneath their fists. You sprint for her, she has a knife on her leg but it’s clear she forgot to reach for it. She ducks beneath their arm, she’s surprisingly agile despite her frequent clumsiness. There’s an opening between the monstrosity’s legs as they stupidly move to follow her. You slide on your knees straight between their legs to slice through their achille’s heel, cutting off the function of their lower body. They faceplant by Yachi’s feet as she shrieks from nearly being crushed as you climb the limp body, your fingers locating the implant and stabbing into the tough skin, the implant wiggling in your hands as you tear it out. The device latches on to your pointer finger to dig into your skin. You scream and shake it off immediately and it lands at Yachi’s feet before she stomps on it like a bug, the crunching resembling the sound of a cockroach beneath her boot.

There’s a grunt from Tanaka’s direction and you see he’s pinned Oikawa to the floor between his knees. The tussle looks like it’s in his favor when Oikawa rips the implant from the wound above his knee and attempts to insert it into the smooth skin of Tanaka’s neck. You stare as he screams in pain, the pincers scratching and cutting into him. You’re too far to use your dagger, you won’t make it before the implant is successfully transferred to him, so you reach for the pistol on your hip. You hold it out in front of you preparing your shot but it’s too risky. Tanaka’s back is to you and only with perfect aim will you be able to land a shot on Oikawa from over his shoulder, the trembling of your hands only worsening the situation.

Two minutes, twenty-five seconds.

The time will be out before you shoot your gun, before Yachi will make it to the control center. Despair ruining your disposition and any confidence you would have had taking this shot is snatched from you as Tanaka screams in pain. You position the gun as best you can, praying to any divine being who happens to hear you to bless you with perfect aim. You begin to squeeze the trigger, forcing your eyes to stay open, when an arrow comes whizzing past your cheek, the speed of it burning the soft skin. You stare in astonishment as it lodges itself in Oikawa’s eye, blood spraying everywhere from the impact and his body slumps to the ground, hand still clasping the implant as it fidgets in his fingertips. Tanaka cringes when he gets off of him and turns to Nishinoya, whose crossbow is still aimed at them and the tension in your shoulders ease slightly.

Your relief is short lived as you survey the situation. Nearly all of the rebels are here, but there are simply too many enemies and they don’t have enough energy to continue to fight. You jump from your spot to look for Yachi and she’s still running to the panel, the disaster gathered in the room preventing her from reaching it. You know it’s too late. Your naive dream beginning to wither away before your eyes so you rush to go get her. 

“Yachi, stop! It’s over,” You scream over the noise of the chaos around you, bodies strewn across the floor while blood begins to pool and smear everywhere. You are holding her arm, pulling her away from the control center in the middle of the room.

 “It’s not over, how could you give up so easily?! I can do this, you have to trust me! I am the only one who can decode the software. It’s my fault any of this is happening anyway. I did this!” Tears are flowing down her face in a violent stream. Her cheeks red with frustration and stress, eyes pleading with you to let her go. “I put all of you in danger! I’m an idiot and I should’ve been able to figure out their plan, but I had to go and try to prove myself to my mom! I-I had to ruin everything because I was so stupidly naive,” her voice was breaking around every syllable, guilt ripping through her. 

“But I can’t lose you!” The lump in your throat was making it difficult to speak as the only option dawned on you. The only option she is pleading for you trust her with. Tears are stinging at your eyes, threatening to spill over while you try desperately to hold them back. “Y-you’re my best friend,” you’re exhausted, the words sincere as they slide through the space between you. Yachi steps towards you, hand coming up to rest on your cheek to catch the stray tear slipping down. 

“I know and that’s why I need to do this. I need to save you. I need to save Yams. And the others. We can’t lose anymore lives because of something I created,” you let your eyes shut, all the fight you had leaving your body as your grip loosens on her arm. She wraps her arms around you for a final embrace, her body still for once, the trembling gone from her nerves as your arms hold her. “I know I can fix this, but I need for you to get as many people as you can out of here first,” she untangles herself from you. 

“There’s a large safe at the end of this hallway. The code is my birthday. Grab anyone left, anyone still alive and shut yourselves in there. I won’t be able to disconnect the devices in this building because I won’t have enough time so there will still be a loud explosion. When you hear that it’s safe to come out,” she takes a step away from you, expression fixed leaving you no room to argue. 

“O-okay,” you force the word from your lips because this was far from okay, “j-just know that, um, that I love you. So fucking much,” her figure begins to blur as the tears gather in your eyes. 

“I love you too, y/n. Promise me that you will make it out of here. Promise me that you will get to watch the sunset. A real one. For me,” she pleads and you blink to clear your vision, hot tears burning the raw skin of your under eyes. “Yes, I p-promise,” you choke on these last words. 

“Thank you. Now go, please” this is the calmest you have ever seen her as she steps away from you, body turning to clumsily run to the control panel. Time is moving in slow motion. The bodies around you moving in vivid detail. Every swing, punch, and kick are stuttering like a stop motion film. You don’t know if you’re breathing anymore, all of your functions glitching in a solitary moment of grief. 

“Hey, look at me!” You can hear Tanaka’s voice, see his figure pummeling towards you, but he’s fuzzy, out of focus. You think his hands are on your arms, but it feels distant and cold, a ghost of everything he is. “Hey!” He shakes you aggressively, your brain fighting against the current of sorrow dragging you below the murky surface. “Don’t let the last words you said to her be a lie! Don’t break this promise!” 

You cut through the surface and see Tanaka clearly. He’s covered in blood, his neck bleeding from where Oikawa punctured his skin with the implant. “We have to go. You have to go,” he shoves you to the exit, your motor functions working on autopilot. You grab who you can as you run for the safe. Yelling orders and instructions to anyone who can hear you. 

One minute, seventeen seconds.

Suga’s at your side holding up Ennoshita while Daichi is calling for people to rush to the safe. You make it there first, and incorrectly punch in the code at first, the small numbers duplicating, but you get it right the second try. The heavy door swinging open with surprising ease as you move out the way to let Suga and Ennoshita in before you. A few of the other guys bolt in soon after and you just stand there waiting for Tanaka, waiting for Yamaguchi, and Kenma, and Yachi. 

Yamaguchi cuts the corner first, Terushima on his tail. You feel a flash of relief when you see them, the distance between you closing rapidly. Yamaguchi trips over the step into the safe, but Terushima catches him before he makes contact with the ground, mumbling something to him that you can’t quite make out. 

Tanaka’s next and he’s screaming at you but you hardly hear him over the commotion. You hardly register the distance until he’s right in front of you again. “What are you doing just standing here?!” He yells. “Let’s go,” he practically lifts you into the room and holds your back to his chest against one of the metal walls, preventing you from running out again. 

You can’t tell who else enters the safe, your panic and grief merging in a merciless waltz. The door slams shut and Daichi is the last to come in, his strong hands holding firm on the handle. Your eyes now begin to scan the bodies in the room, some fine with just a few cuts and bruises, others worse, bleeding dangerously from various points in their body. You count like you did before any of this started. 

Twenty-six. Minus one. Twenty-five. 

You start from the corner opposite you, whispering number to face to name. 

Twenty-one, orange hair, brown eyes: Hinata. Twenty-two, flash of blonde, fixed glare: Nishinoya. Twenty-three, disheveled black hair-

“Where’s Kenma?” Kuroo’s voice breaks your trance. There’s only twenty-four people in the safe. 

“Where’s Kenma?” You repeat, fighting Tanaka’s grip to bolt to the door. 

“Daichi!” Kuroo screams. “Answer me!”

“He stayed behind,” Daichi’s shoulders fall in defeat. “Said something about this being his final move. That this was game over for him and the prize for winning would be our lives. Then stuck something on the door and told me to tell you that he’s,” he pauses, his usually solid voice wavering. “He said he’s not a loser.” 

“And you let him?!” Kuroo runs at him, intent on pulling him away from the door and ripping it open. “He’s an idiot! I have to go get him!” Daichi locks Kuroo’s arms behind his back. “Let me go!” He’s kicking and shoving, but Daichi refuses to stand down. “There’s still time! I HAVE TIME TO SAVE HIM!”

“There is no time, Tetsuro! We are out of time!” At this moment the floor rumbles, the walls vibrate as they shield you from the brunt of the blast. Kuroo’s reaction is visceral,  a primal scream blowing out his vocal chords as dust starts to fall from the ceiling. You watch Hinata fall to his knees, the inhibited light dimming in his eyes as his head falls in his hands, body convulsing with sobs. 

00:00

You’re drowning, your lungs are full of water, air sticking to the lining of your esophagus, the burning pain of no oxygen clouding your brain. Your head heavy on your neck, the effort of holding up your body wearing away as you let all of your weight fall back on Tanaka. His own body sliding down the wall until you’re both on the floor, you wailing pathetically between his legs and he just holds you to his chest, even when you resist and scream for him to leave you alone, he silently holds you. 

No one makes a move to leave. The burden of losing people weighing heavy in the tight, crowded room. 

You don’t remember too much after this. The solemn, dreadful walk back to the hideout is syrupy, your body hardly moving through the thickness of desolation. You stumble over bodies and slip on spilled blood, the aftermath of the explosion evident on every surface, making your ascent cumbersome as you climb out. The familiar fog an odd comfort concealing you from intrusive eyes. 

The hideout is stale and uneasy. Your heartbeat pulsing irregularly in your chest, grief induced anesthetic numbing your bloodstream. Tanaka’s room is dark and his bed looks unusually comfortable. You lurch towards it, but Tanaka stops you. His arms pulling you into the bathroom, the shower already running with steam creeping over the top of the glass door. He helps you undress and step into the tub, tying your hair up in a messy bun before the water hits you. He steps in behind you and swipes a wet cloth over your body. Blood, dirt, and dust turning the water at your feet a translucent brown as it disappears down the drain. 

Tanaka wraps new gauze around your waist, the sting of the alcohol barely noticeable anymore. You’re wearing one of his t-shirts as he tucks you into bed. His body settling in beside you, his strong arms cradling you in his embrace as he whispers gentle words of affirmation into your hair. His soothing voice eventually lulling you into a dreamless slumber. 

You wake up unexpectedly, the sounds of your own whimpers breaking the awful silence. “I’m here,” Tanaka pets your hair. “I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here,” he reassures you as his arms press you deeper to his chest. Your fingers clinging to the sheet draped over his bare torso. 

He leans down to pepper kisses across your tear stained cheeks. His lips connecting with every inch of skin. You tilt your face to catch his lips in a slow kiss, his movements initially hesitant. You drift your fingers to outline his collarbone, tracing along each line of muscle and ridge of scar tissue, determined to memorize all his imperfections. Determined to cement the entirety of his physique into your memory so he will never fade if he ever leaves you too. 

Your fingers stop at the waistband of his underwear, toying with the elastic before you venture further down as you sketch the dip of his hip bone, the sharpness of his pelvis, and the strength of his relaxed thigh behind your closed eyelids. He stops you before you can delve deeper. “We shouldn’t,” is all he says, lips still slotted perfectly between yours. 

“I want you, Ryu,” you’re aware of the desperation in your tone, aware of your need for physical touch emitting off of you in heady rays. “Please.” 

He screws his eyes shut, his internal dialogue written all over his handsome features. It’s not because he doesn’t want to, the evidence of his quiet arousal mere inches from your fingertips. He’s afraid of hurting you, afraid of pushing you too far even though you’re asking for this, but you want to show him how much you want him. How much you need him. 

How much you love him.

You gently pry your wrist from his loose grasp to massage the soft skin of his erection, slowing your motions when he stiffens. “Let me,” you plead beneath your breath. 

“Let me feel you, let me know you’re here.” 

You feel him nod above you, his body relaxing into your touch, his hips rutting gently into your palm until he’s painfully hard. He shifts to caress the back of your neck, tilting your head to look at him as he places a lingering kiss to your forehead. His lips smoothing over your features before he melts into you again. His kisses are slow and passionate, a welcome distraction to the flurry of disheartening emotions plaguing you. 

He rolls the both of you over so he’s resting on his elbows above you and removes your hand from his cock to place it over his heart. The action is cheesy but you can feel the heartbeat beneath his muscle. The steady, rhythmic pulse pumping blood through his veins, a sign that he is alive, that he’s breathing and he’s with you. 

You fight the tears begging to spill over, fearing that you might ruin the moment. He strokes your cheek, thumb rubbing soothing circles beneath the skin of your eyes. 

“I’m gonna touch you, okay?” His voice is broken from exhaustion and vulnerability, but his hand moves to shift your panties to the side when you nod for him to continue. His fingers slipping between your folds to gather the slick at your entrance, circling your clit lightly. You lift your hips to roll into his fingers, silently asking for more as your pleasure begins to prickle at your nerves. 

He begins to move away from you and for a moment you think he’s going to stop, instead he pulls himself from his boxers and strokes whatever slick he gathered over his erection. The tip of his cock a blossoming red as he continues to touch himself. “Ryu, hurry,” you whine, impatience beginning to nag at you, body seeking the delirious sensation of pleasure. 

“I’ll take care of you, don’t worry,” his voice is soft, the meaning of his words holding avenues of interpretations as he positions himself at your entrance. His arm shakes with strain beside your face as he pushes his head past your initial ring of muscle, stopping midway to thrust shallowly. Despite your begging for him to hurry up, you’re still tense, your walls clenching tight around him. 

“Baby, I need you to relax,” he says through gritted teeth, the efforts of restraining himself lock his muscles into place, but you take a deep breath at his words, allowing your legs to fall open around his hips, crossing your ankles behind the small of his back. 

“Move,” your breath catches in your throat as he thrusts a little deeper that time. “I’ll be fine, just move.” 

He looks at you for a long moment, eyes searching yours for even a semblance of doubt. When he doesn’t find it, he rests his forehead on yours, eyes closed as he sheathes himself inside you entirely. You feel too full when he doesn’t follow through so you wiggle your hips to press firmly into his, a low groan reverberating through his chest as you grind against him, your arms stationed securely around his neck. 

Not too long after he begins to meet the rocking of your hips, his movements deliberate and measured. You keen into his touch as his head falls to rest beside your neck, mouthing the skin to muffle his moans as his pace quickens. 

He slips his arms beneath your back, hugging you tightly to his chest. The new angle sends a jolt of electric pleasure through your veins, his thrusts are determined as he searches for your release. 

“Not gonna last long,” he groans into your neck, fingers digging into your sides as he tries to stall his own release. You’re closer than he thinks though, your head is swimming with euphoria, brain clouded with the tastes of ecstasy. 

“Don’t stop, Ryu. I’m so close,” you beg, your voice dripping with desire. You feel one of his hands move to fist the sheet below you as he breaks his steady pace, the force of his hips jostling you passionately. The pressure building in your abdomen is unbearable, his cock slamming into your sensitive walls fervently. 

“Fuck,” you moan into his ear as your senses crash, your body singing with unexpected bliss. His thrusts begin to falter, his own release on the horizon as his grip on you hardens. 

“M’gonna come,” he stutters out, voice gravelly with need. “Need you to move, so I, shit,” he’s struggling to get his words out as the hand fisting the sheet moves to wrap around your calf. “So I can pull out,” he groans and pushes on your leg to unlock your ankles. 

“No,” you refuse. “Inside, just come inside, please Ryu” he never has, the implications too dangerous for him to ever consider, but right now you need to feel every part of him. 

“Baby,” he whines, his voice an octave higher. The desperation in your tone crumbling his resolve and before he can say no he’s spilling inside you. The sporadic contractions of your walls around his cock coupled with the way you whimper his name against the shell of his ear is what ruins him. 

He collapses on top of you, his dense weight flattening you into the mattress as he twitches inside you. You don’t mind the heaviness, content with falling asleep just like this but he rolls the both of you on your sides, probably realizing he was crushing you. 

His face is still nestled in the groove of your neck when you feel him chuckle against your skin. “Can’t believe you tricked me into doing that?” A small smile stretching his lips on your shoulder. 

“Trick? I wouldn’t it call it that,” a matching smile plays on your features. 

“It was sneaky and you know it.” You laugh despite everything that happened today. 

“I love you,” you never said it back, but you’re certain now as your body flows with appreciation. 

“I love you too.”

June 18, 2065

6:38am

It’s too early to wake up, but your mind disregards your obvious fatigue when you find yourself on Tanaka’s balcony. The events of last night looping perpetually in your head as you stare at the city that was supposed to be demolished. There’s no movement, hardly any noise beside the buzzing neon sign flickering four floors down. It’s as if everyone is in mourning. A victory cause for celebration, but the density of grief burdens the atmosphere. 

“What’re doing up?” Tanaka appears behind you, arms enclosing around your waist. 

“Couldn’t sleep anymore,” you reply dryly. He hums behind you and rests his chin on your head as you two watch the sky change from a deep purple to the dull pink that never cuts through the fog. 

“What now?” You ask, not really expecting an answer. 

“I’m not sure,” he shrugs, this transition stretching into miles of uncharted area. 

“We leave,” he says, finally. 

“Where would we even go?” Confusion laces your tone. The two of you have never left Tokyo, partially because it was impossible with the barrier surrounding the city.

“Miyagi,” he says as if he’s familiar with the prefecture. 

“I don’t know,” you hesitate. “There was a project I wanted to complete for,” your voice fades into the early morning. The image of the simulation machine popping into your mind as you remember the pixelated beach glitching in the large room. The last moment you had with him. 

“Bring it with you,” Tanaka suggests as he turns you in his embrace to look at him.

“What’s in Miyagi?” His adamant stare confusing you further. 

“My sister,” he’s never mentioned her before, and you raise your eyebrows in question. “A few of the rebels left here right before you showed up to search for others. She led them,” he explains. 

“I hadn’t heard from her until she called me two days ago. I was worried something happened, but she’s fine,” he shakes his head. 

“I obviously didn’t get the chance to tell you, but she’s there and they found more than they were expecting.”

“How did they even get past the barrier?” 

“Kenma.” His tone softens around his name, but you're not the least bit surprised that he managed to break down the barrier. 

“Of course.” You rest your head against his chest.

“The rebellion is stronger there. We may have a chance to save all of Japan. Not just Tokyo,” you process his words, unsure of how to respond. 

“And,” he cups your neck so you’re staring into his eyes. “The sun sets in Miyagi.”

[descendantofthesparrow]

Interlude - Rewrite POYW - Harry Hook x reader - Part 3 - invitations

=

The Smee twins stared wide-eyed at the crisp white letter that was clearly and openly inviting them, both of them, to Auradon prep, signed by King Ben and Ms. Evie of the isle. They heard that Harriet, CJ, and their older brother Sammy had gotten the same letter around the same time that they had gotten theirs.

His Royal Majesty, King Ben of Auradon, and his Councilor Ms. Evie of the Isle, hereby request the pleasure of your company, Skipper and Sterling Smee, for the upcoming academic year at Auradon city middle school. Please notify his Majesty’s couriers of your response to this request.

-we’d love to have you two with us here in Auradon, don’t worry, your brother has been given the same invitation, will you come? - King Ben

-Don’t let this go to waste boys, I’ll see you soon - Harry H.

Skipper and Sterling looked at each other, then back to the letter, the older twin, skipper, picking up the letter and holding it gently in his hands, reading it over and over for any small hints that might reveal the letter to be a whole joke and they would never be coming off the isle.

Skipper slowly looked at his brother with a grin “it's for real” he whispered, shaking the letter in Sterling's face “they really want us to come to Auradon!” Sterling took the letter and examined it for himself, a bright grin matching his brothers growing on his face.

The twins threw their arms around each other, jumping and spinning around the room. the door to their room opened, the twins pausing in their celebration as their older brother, Sammy, and dad, Mr. Smee, looked in on them with just barely repressed smiles. “Dad look!” Skipper took back the letter from Sterling and shoved it into his dad's face, the old man smiling and picking up his son as he examined the letter “they invited us to go to Auradon! And Harry signed it too!!”

“they invited your brother as well” Mr. Smee hummed, setting Skipper back down on his feet and examining the letter again, smiling at the note from Harry. “Harriet and CJ too”

Sammy flipped his invitation between his fingers “yeah, Harriet said something about how they finally assigned guardians for us so they were finally able to send the invitations, all that’s left is for us to tell the dudes who gave ‘em to us that we accept” Mr. Smee, handing the twins letter back to Skipper, the two going over it once more.

“when can we tell them?” Mr. Smee asked, walking back out of the twin's room to the living room of his apartment that he had acquired after (y/n) had dismembered his ex-captain.

“well, Harriet got a letter from (y/n) saying that the next shipment of goods tomorrow, will have some of the couriers that are expecting our response so we can tell them then.” Mr. Smee nodded, moving into the kitchen to start making dinner for his sons.

“so after we tell them you three are all for Auradon, when will you be picked up?” Sammy pursed his lips, trying to remember what Harriet had relayed to him from the letter that (y/n) sent her informing her of the timeline of events for the vks transfer.

“uh, after we tell the courier dudes tomorrow? the limo should be here sometime next week…no clue what time yet but im sure well be told at some point before the day” Mr. Smee nodded, setting a pot of water onto his stove and turning it on, waiting for it to boil so he could add the pasta.

“I noticed on the twin's letter, it said “Auradon middle school” while yours said “Auradon Prep”, so the twins will be going to a different school?” Sammy nodded at his father's question, helping him get the ingredients ready for the chicken alfredo spaghetti he was about to make.

“Yeah, they are only 10 after all, and Auradon prep is a high school so I’m guessing when they turn 14, they’ll go then.” Mr. Smee nodded again and started to chop up some parsley.

Sammy grabbed the chicken from the fridge and placed a pan on the stove, starting the flame and grabbing some seasonings for the chicken.

The two worked in comfortable silence, the sound of the twins playing in the background providing the much needed “white noise”

Sammy sighed, slicing up the chicken and tossing it into the pan, watching it cook as he thought of the fast-approaching future.

Only a week from now, he and the twins would be across the sea in Auradon, away from their father for the first time. Now Smee wasn’t the best father, hardly anyone on the isle was, well maybe except for Dr.Facilier which was mostly a surprise to…well everyone, the once voodoo doctor turned principal and arcade owner held his daughter in high regard and strived to give her the best life he could on the isle.

But back to his father, while he wasn’t the best, he definitely was far from bad, and tried to the best for his kids when he could. And right now, the best for his kids was sending them to Auradon.

Sammy knew the twins would miss their father, yes, they would have the hook siblings and their older brother but nothing could take the place of their dad. Sammy hummed as he wondered if he could request visitations for the twins to see their dad.

-

CJ balance-walked the curb as she kept pace with Harriet, both heading back to the older sister's ship for the night as darkness began to set over the isle.

“so when are we goin ta Auradon?” CJ asked Harriet, grinning as she gave an annoyed sigh, it being the seventh time CJ had asked that question within the last five minutes.

Then again, Harriet hadn't bothered to answer her so CJ thought it was perfectly reasonable to continue to bug her with it. “at some point within the next week” Harriet muttered; she had wanted to keep her answer as loose as possible as to not get CJs hopes up. Harriet was a cynical person, unlike CJ who was oddly optimistic, and she didn’t want her little sister to be disappointed in case the limo never came.

But thanks to CJ’s constant babbling of the same question, Harriet just decided to blurt it out if only to make her shut up. “sweet~ is Harry gonna be in the limo thing?” Harriet sighed, question after question, and if Harriet didn’t answer CJ would babble it over and over again until Harriet snapped.

“I don’t know, I just know they are aiming for next week to pick us all up, (y/n) said I’ll get another letter about two days before we get picked up so we have time to pack ‘n stuff” CJ hummed at that and lept off the curb, skipping up next to her sister and clasping her hands behind her back.

“so what was (y/n) like? I didn’t get to meet her when she came to demolish dad” Harriet stopped for a moment, of all the questions for CJ to ask that was one she wasn’t expecting.

“well,” Harriet starting, moving forward again as her ship came into sight “she was really…expressive, very protective of Harry, um-damn good with a sword….I don’t know I wasn’t around her for a long enough time to gage her properly but what I've gotten about her from her letters, she’s a thorough person and makes sure everyone is taken care of before going through with a plan” CJ hummed again, Harriet’s “description” of (y/n) was different than the image she had made in her head due to Harrys “description” but either way (y/n) sounded kinda cool and she would have hella fun annoying the hell outta her.

The two hook sisters arrived at Harriet's ship and climbed aboard, moving into the lower decks where the kitchen was to eat dinner.

-

Dizzy hummed happily to herself as she moved about the salon, cleaning up the last of the clipped hair and globs of dye before the salon opened at midnight.

In one week, ONE WEEK, she, Dizzy Tremaine, the daughter of Drizella Tremaine, would be going to Auradon!!! With Evie!! Her idol!!

As the day drew closer to the fateful pickup day, her excitement built up inside her, bursting out in sleepless nights and constant ideas to sketch down in her sketchbook.

She let out a squeal and spun on her heels, sweeping up the last pile of hair and disposing of it. She just couldn’t wait! There were so many things in Auradon that she wanted to try! From ice cream to swimming pools, it was an endless list of joys she had yet to experience!

“Dizzy!!!! Finish up! Time for dinner!” her aunt Anastasia called from the apartment upstairs, Dizzy set her broom and dustpan against the wall and skipped up the stairs, unable to keep the bright grin off her face.

“Coming~!!”

-

Ben looked at the papers the couriers had given him of the responses of the six invites he had sent out the day before.

All of them said yes.

Ben couldn’t help the wide grin from growing on his lips, and he didn’t resist the urge to dance as excitement swelled inside him.

‘Finally!’ Ben thought as he danced stupidly around his office ‘finally! After more than half a year I can finally bring more VKs over! Nothing can stop it now!’

Mal knocked gently outside his office, it was lunchtime and he had yet to arrive at the pavilion where he and the vks plus (y/n) would be eating (lunch celebration for the invitations being sent out). After a few moments of silence, other than the sounds of Bens dancing footsteps, Mal opened the door, calling out for him.

She burst out laughing as she spotted Ben dancing around his office, a wide grin on his face “They all accepted!” Ben sang, pulling Mal into the room and making her dance with him “they all accepted! Six more vks next week!”

Mal laughed again and let herself be pulled into the moment of joy, gigging as Ben spun her around and lifted her into the air “Six more vks!” she echoed, squealing a bit as Ben dropped her into his chest and spun them both around some more “Ookayyy!! Im gonna throw up lemme down!” Mal smacked at his shoulders until Ben grinned at her and set her on her feet, laughing a bit as Mal tumbled into a chair from dizziness.

“Come on, let's go tell the others!” Ben grabbed onto Mal's hand, dragging a still slightly out of it fae from his office and to the pavilion, where the rest of their friends waited for them.

“There yeh are, an’ here I thought yeh keeled over from paperwork” Ben let out a few sarcastic laughs as he looked to Harry, who just grinned back.

“harde har Harry, but! All six of them accepted the invitation!” Evie and Carlos let out a gasp and Evie stood from the table, bounding over to Ben and slamming into him for a hug “I know! Next week we’ll finally have more vks!”

Gil and Harry burst out laughing as Evie took Ben's arms and spun them around in a dance, “He was doing that in his office” Mal sniggered, sitting down next to Jay and leaning on him, Jay holding up his phone and laughing as he recorded Evie and Ben dancing.

“adorable” you purred, curling against Harry's side as his arm wrapped around your waist. Carlos and Dude ran around for a moment, hyped up from Ben's visible excitement, and slid to a stop in front of the table.

“come on! Let's eat! Then we get ice cream! For celebration!” everyone cheered at Carlos' suggestion and Ben and Evie quickly sat down, Ben tapping his hands on the table to rid of his excess energy.

A few moments later Ben's personal chefs appeared with trays of food, setting them down in the middle of the table and pouring their drinks “thank you, Cherise, Tulio” the two chefs smiled at Ben and nodded, waving the eight teens goodbye and moving back into the castle.

“to the new vks!” Ben called, raising his glass and laughing as the rest of you followed his action.

“to the new vks!”

“and many more~!!” you finished, the vks grinning even wider than that. That was the plan, as soon as Harry's sisters, the Smee kids, and Dizzy were in Auradon, the process to bring another six would be immediately put in action.

The only question to that was ‘who would be chosen?’

-end of part 3-

 yeeee P3~!!! the new vks have been invited to Auradon and things are lookin up~!!! and writing excited Ben was so fun, hes a fun character to write and create for, i don't get why the official writers pushed him to the side so much, after all without him the Descendants storyline wouldn't exist (yes this is heavy side eye to the writers of descendants) 

anyway Permtaglist!

@queer-cosette @sephiralorange

@lunanight2012 @daughter-of-the-stars11

@musicarose @random-thoughts-003

@remembered-license @rintheemolion

@verboetoperee​ @imtryingthisout​

@thecaptainsgingersnap​ @jatp-rules-my-life​

[kintatsujo]

LoZ AU- The Courage of Running Away Part TWENTY-TWO

Hoi hoi go read the previous post if you haven’t!

#AU August

#LoZ AU: The Courage of Running Away

So this is an action scene that's more getting planned than anything so that's how I'm presenting it, keeping in mind I think about fight scenes in kind of video game terms in the first place:

We have:

The Silver Hinox- Informally nicknamed Chekov by Ice.  If we're thinking of it in game terms, obviously he would follow the BotW patterns of being a huge pile of hit points, but flavor-wise I think of him as being a very OLD hinox, so he'd have a more complicated attack pattern of doing shit like grabbing his enemies and trying to throw them, which I actually think would be hilariously fun to see in a BotW mod if someone could figure it out lol.  

Normally I think he'd throw bombs at enemies that were too far away the same as a black hinox, but he's in the Hyrule Castle throne room right now so he cares more about slamming people into walls.  Another thing he'd be doing is wide sweeps with his arms because he's surrounded by a lot of little dudes.  

Serenumbra probably keeps him from happy napping time so he is super, super fucking cranky.

The Pikku- They're still focused on getting to Princess Zelda but also on creating as much chaos as possible; the Scarred Woman is the team mage, the Burly Man focuses on brute force, the Average Middle Aged Guy is a tricksy fighter and Shady Guy and Unsuspicious Girl are both scrappers.

The Royal Guard- Doing their best.

King Aldway, Gray and Princess Zelda-

[Image Description: The Burly Man knocks into King Aldway’s back, causing him to pitch forward and Gray to grunt in pain in his arms.  “Papa!  GRAY!” Princess Zelda cries out.  Aldway twists as he falls so that he’s underneath Gray as much as possible, hitting the ground with a thud, and the Burly Man runs off.  The Scarred Woman suddenly appears behind Princess Zelda and wraps an arm around her waist, summoning a teleportation circle.  “Gotcha,” the Scarred Woman says.]

Queen Zelda- I want you to think of her like a very high level version of Bow of Light Zelda from Age of Calamity; she's deathly powerful but slow, and once she's on the battlefield it takes a bit for her more powerful abilities to charge up.  (I've been slowly getting more ideas on what CoRA WOULD look like as a video game but we're gonna leave that for a supplementary post.)  She's also focused on finding her daughter and husband, so after firing a blast off at Chekov to give Link a head start (Basically think of her as starting out with a full bar of A move) she starts trying to locate Aldway and Zelda in the fray.

Impa- Look don't let Impa being in her 40s fool you, she's an agile fuckin powerhouse.  Absolutely think of her as being on the level of AoC Impa at high level.  Impa wants to find Gray but knows he's probably with Aldway or Zelda Jr if he can help it.  She ends up in a scrap with Average Middle Aged Guy, Shady Guy and Unsuspicious Girl.

(Impa is wiping the floor with them.)

Link- Mad as hell and has fought a blue hinox in the training dungeon from hell, so he goes straight for Chekov and starts hacking at his little legs.  This is not the recommended way to fight a hinox but it's the way he's forced to work for him.  He's also still wearing those power gloves, which in CoRA generally improves his strength in all respects and is the only reason swords would ever have durability in CoRA as a game.  I like to think he shatters at least one in the middle of this fight and has to borrow one off one of the guards.  

(Astramorus, staring in horror, says softly, "I have no right to be afraid.")

Ghirahim-Still getting up from where Eltani's loftwing landed in the courtyard; I actually tend to think that one of Astramorus's handful of "this man is not a COMPLETE disaster" skills is that he's actually very skilled at directing his loftwing and that's why Hera was even able to land on the balcony of the throne room.  (Impa saw that's where the action was and used a paraglider to get the rest of the way in the room.)

Astramorus-has no fighting skills aside from the Bow that's still in Gerudo City (it did get put away properly I swear), so when he sees that Link is starting to struggle with Chekov and knowing that it's his own fault Link even tried to take this thing on with nothing but a sword, he throws a chunk of rock at the back of the hinox's head trying to distract it.

This.  Doesn't go well for him.

[Image Description: A rock hits the hinox in the side of the head with a “SPAK”.  The hinox looks over its shoulder at Astramorus, who is preparing to run.  The hinox spins and, with one hand, straight up punches Astramorus with a BOOM, hitting his entire body with its enormous fist.  “FATHER!!” Link screams.  End ID.]

I am so sorry I didn’t draw this part but this is when Ghirahim finally reaches the fight, and between he and Link the hinox finally goes down.  

Link rushes to his father’s side, and Astramorus is very still, and there’s no fairy in sight-- 

but Link’s been picking up every fairy he could catch since Windfish Isle

[Image Description: Link SLAPS a fairy into Astramorus’s forehead with a TING!, screaming, “DON’T YOU DARE DIE ON ME NOW!”  Astramorus startles alive, and Link leans in to yell in his face: “WHY DIDN’T YOU HAVE YOUR FAIRIES?!” Astramorus stares at him in shocked silence for a moment, then smiles ruefully.  “...Because I was trying to end BOTH your problems by taking out the prince,” he admits. Link shouts in his face again, and Astramorus hunches his shoulders in surprise.  “YOU STUPID USELESS MAN!!” Link shouts.  Tears begin streaming down his face.  “That’s not how you fix ANYTHING!”  He sniffles, rubbing at his face.  “Stop SCARING me like this!” Astramorus stares at him, shocked, sorrowful, then comes to an internal conclusion.  He sits up better.  “You’re right,” he says.  Link stares at him in surprise as he continues, “So first of all I’m sorry for SCARING you and I’ll try not to do it again...” he now turns away, flushing slightly.  “And SECONDLY I’m sorry I used to call you SOFT like it was a BAD THING.”  Link blushes, and Astramorus adds softly, “I mean you didn’t get CRYING EASILY from your MOTHER.” End ID.]

I was honestly not going to have Astramorus manage a fucking proper apology until the sequel but Link just beat a silver hinox with a sword and resurrected Astra by slapping him with a fairy like one of those old stupid “shoulda had a V8″ commercials, AND Link just managed a proper yell at his dad and got through his whole statement so really it felt right.

Next update we finally get to see Princess Hilda properly so I’m excite!

[thicctails]

Summer of Whump Day 7 [Storms/Sunburns]

Okay so we’re just gonna be a day behind alright everyone? Anyways have a longer fic to compensate.

Ω

 Omega smiled as she watched Pillow walk around her room with her doll perched on his back. The salamander had, for the past three weeks, stayed by her side, keeping her company while she recovered. His presence was a welcome one, seeing how tense the ship had become. Something had offset the usual harmony of their group, but no one would tell Omega what. Whenever she asked someone, they’d just give her a smile that she could tell was fake and told her “not to worry about it”.

 From her little tucked away corner, she could observe the ship’s other occupants. Echo and Tech were doing what they had been doing ever since they had gotten on the ship, which was just barely tolerating each other’s existence. The two squadmates stayed as far away as possible from each other, which made it difficult to do group activities. Before the ‘something’ had happened, she’d used to help them make (mostly) edible meals every third night. She’d enjoyed learning about the chemistry of cooking and how different flavors went together. It had been her bonding time with them, and she missed it.

 Hunter was cleaning his blaster and Wrecker was, to her concern, sleeping again. He’d been doing that a lot recently, and it bothered her to think that he was in pain for most of the day. She herself wasn’t feeling too great, nearly dying from a landslide did that to you, but she couldn’t imagine feeling like this all the time. How he managed to still smile at her, she’d never know. She wished that she could help him somehow.

 A light bulb went off over her head, and she reached towards a small pile of datapads that she was always trying to add to. There was a datapad about the local wildlife and plants on the planet that they were on in the pile somewhere. Tech had given it to her when they had been staying in the medical centre, the two of them bored out of their minds. Shuffling through the pile, she easily plucked out the one she wanted. Patting the space beside her, she began to scroll through the information on Scarif’s plant life. Pillow waddled over to her side, his head leaning on her knee. He’d grown in size a bit, but not enough to where it was really noticeable. She only noticed it because Pillow spent most of his time with her.

 “There! That’s what we need, Pillow.” She said, showing her companion the image she was looking at. It was a bright yellow flower with purple-tipped petals. The description said that it was often used to treat migraines.

 “Come on Pillow, let’s go see if we can find some of these flowers. It’ll help Wrecker feel better, and, between you and me?” She leaned down and whispered to the amphibian. “I’m getting really tired of being in the same ship as everyone else right now.”

 Pillow huffed in agreement and crawled onto her shoulders, draping himself around her neck like an exotic feather boa. Making no effort to conceal her leaving but also not drawing attention to herself, Omega made her way to the ship’s exit. Her leg wasn’t exactly pleased with the movement, but she put aside her discomfort. Checking the datapad for the general location of the flowers, she and Pillow set off into the tropical forest.

  Meanwhile, inside the Havoc Marauder…

  Tech rubbed at his eyes, tired of reading through an endless slog of rumors and unfounded reports of Jedi sightings. His efforts had not gone completely unrewarded, as multiple sources had cautiously whispered about a Jedi having been glimpsed on a distant moon. Selrahc Eluos, that is what they said her name was. It wasn’t much, but they would be unlikely to find much else.

 “Hunter,” He called, getting the brooding clone’s attention, “I may have found something.”

 Hunter didn’t look too pleased with Tech’s announcement but came over anyways.

 “There have been reports of a Jedi hiding out on a remote moon called Una Vere. Of course, seeing as how these reports exist, she wont be there long.” He explained, turning in his seat to look at Hunter.

 “Hmm. How long will it take us to get there?” He half muttered the question.

 “About a day at lightspeed. We’ll need to leave right away.” Tech stood and began to input the coordinates.

 “Are you at least going to tell her?”

 Echo’s voice caused the two clones to pause. Their squadmate was leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed in displeasure.

 “We don’t even know if the Jedi will still be there when we arrive, and I don’t want to upset her before I absolutely have to.” Hunter replied.

 “You coward. You’re not even going to give her the chance to voice her opinion on this?” Echo’s voice was venomous, and Hunter knew that he had tread carefully here, lest another fight break out.

 “Echo, this is for her own good. She’ll be happier with someone who can help her with her Force abilities.” He said, his voice gentle.

 “The abilities that we don’t even know she has?” Echo countered.

 “Oh, open your eyes Echo! It’s obvious she’s not a normal clone.” Tech snapped.

 “We’re not normal clones!” Echo shouted back.

 “You know what I mean! She doesn’t belong with us!”

 “Yeah? Well I’m starting to think that I don’t belong with you either!”

 “Maybe you don’t!”

 “ENOUGH!” Hunter’s yell was thunderous. “I am sick and tired of you two arguing!”

 “Well you know what? I think I’m sick and tired of you. Both of you. Give me a call when you’ve figured out how to stop being such a moronic, child-abandoning nerf herders!” Echo threw his arms up into the air and stormed out of the ship, growling under his breath.

 A soft crunch made him pause and look down. There were… picked flowers on the ground? He recognized them; they grew on vines nearby and could be used to help treat headaches and migraines. How had they gotten here?

 Wait…

 He scanned around the ground, terror welling up in him when he spotted small footprints around the ship’s exit. He ran back into the ship, ignoring Hunter and Tech’s confused yells. He made his way up to Omega’s room, hoping that, for once, things would go right for them.

 The small space was empty, no sign of Omega or Pillow being there at all.

 “Kriff!” He yelled, sprinting as best he can on his still healing leg back the way he had came. Before he can make it, however, Hunter catches his prosthetic arm.

 “What’s wrong?” He might be angry, but his brotherly instincts stamp down the smoldering emotion for the time being.

 “Omega’s not here. I think she heard us arguing.” He says as he pulls away. His anger hasn’t been calmed, and it mixes easily into his worry.

 Hunter goes pale. “Shit.” He curses, stepping back as Echo disappears from sight.

 “Mnh, wha’s goin’ on?”

 Wrecker rubs his eyes as he half sits up in his bunk. He looks to Hunter for answers.

 “We were having an argument about, well, you know what, and it seems like Omega came around when we were exploding at each other, and now she’s gone.” Hunter explained as he started to get his gear on.

 “Oh no!” Hunter’s words woke Wrecker right up, and the burly man joined Hunter in getting into his armor.

 “What’s going on? Why are you getting your armor on?” Tech appeared in the doorway, his cheeks still flush from the argument.

 “Omega heard us arguing and ran off. Echo’s going after her, but I don’t want him re-injuring his leg. He’s mad, and that means he wont be thinking straight.” Hunter said, putting his helmet on.

 “Oh Maker.” Tech said, covering his mouth with a hand. In an instant, his hateful words hit him in the face like a blaster bolt. He hadn’t meant anything that he’d said, he’d just wanted to hurt Echo, which made him feel like the lowliest scum.

 Grabbing his own armor, he made a mental promise to apologize to Echo. Actually, he’d need to apologize to Omega too, considering the fact that what he had said, out of context, could be and likely had been taken entirely the wrong way. Thinking about the argument made his chest hurt and his stomach twist, but he didn’t try and find some way to resolve himself of guilt. The feelings were everything he deserved.

   Pillow stared sadly as Warm One cried, her face streaming with tears as she ran. He didn’t blame her for crying, the words she had heard would bring any fledgling to tears. The other members of her pack had been steadily growing more and more tense and angry, especially Shiny Eyes and Grey Arm. Ever since Warm One and Shiny Eyes had recovered from their accident, the air had become sour with displeasure, sadness, anger, and building resentment. It was not a good environment for someone like Warm One, and he had wanted nothing more than to take her out of their flying metal den. Today, he’d gotten his wish, but at a terrible price.

 The adult humans had said terrible things! They were going to leave Warm One all alone! They were supposed to protect her, not abandon her! She had seen them as family, and until now, he’d thought they felt the same. Clearly, he’d been wrong. Well, perhaps not about all of them. Grey Arm had been very loud when he had been yelling at Half Skull and Shiny Eyes; he had wanted Warm One to stay. He wasn’t sure about Strong One, the human’s thoughts and feelings were often muddled by pain, but he hadn’t argued like Grey Arm had, so he certainly wasn’t in Pillow’s good graces.

 Pillow felt a pressure begin to build up inside his chest. A storm was coming. Normally, he’d be overjoyed at the prospect of rain; it had been so long since he’d experienced a good rainstorm, but Warm One had nothing to protect her from the rain and wind, which meant that they had a problem.

 He felt a flash of frustration run through his small body. Before his imprisonment on that barren, icy wasteland, he had possessed a beautiful, strong pair of wings. If he had them now, he could shield Warm One from the storm. Force, he could carry her above it, show her the world the way he had once seen it. He resented his captors for chaining him up and leaving him on that damnable planet to die, but he also understood why they did. He had not been a kind creature, and the names people had given him were accurate. The Great Sky Scourge, The White Beast, Death’s Shadow. All fitting. All horrible.

 But Warm One had never seen him as any of those things. She had given him a new name, Pillow, the human word for a squishy, soft, white thing that they slept on. He felt honored to be given such a name, because to him, it was a chance to start over. He’d been weakened by the lack of food, reduced to his larval state once again, but now that he had her, he’d have the chance to regain his former glory and use it to do good. They’d do it together. If her pack was too stupid to see her Light, he’d take care of her, just as she had taken care of him.

 All he had to do was wait until it was time to metamorphosize. And, of course, keep both her and himself safe from this storm.

 Suddenly, he was no longer around her neck. He landed in the mud, sliding a few feet away. Once he’d blinked away the mud, he realized that Warm One had tripped! He called out to her, running as fast as he could back to her as raindrops began to fall around them. He nudged her, helping her up. He missed the once incredible strength he used to have.

 Warm One picked him up as she stood, her face turning red where she had hit the ground. Her eyes were red, and tears still dripped down her face. He crooned sadly, trying to send comforting feelings over their bond. She had created the bond without meaning too on the day they met, and while he didn’t like being able to feel her pain, it was useful in moments like these.

 “Oh Pillow, wh-why don’t they want me? What did I-I do wrong?” She cried, hugging him to her chest. “I-I thought- I loved-” She sobbed even harder, not being able to finish her sentence.

 “No!” He cried, nuzzling her. “It’s not you! They are being stupid! The most stupid!”

 She didn’t understand him, of course, but she felt his feelings, and that was enough to get him a brief, watery smile. She sniffed and looked around, unsure of where to go. She considered following the path, but ultimately decided to go off into the tropical brush. Pillow wound himself around her neck again, keeping an eye out for any danger. The rain was growing stronger, and they’d need shelter soon.

  After about 20 minutes of running and stumbling, Warm One spotted a cave on the face of a cliff. She managed to get them up there, collapsing once they were inside. Pillow shook off the water that clung to his skin before returning to Warm One. She was wet and kind of cold, but not like she had been when they had still been on his planetary prison. If he kept her warm, she’d be okay.

 She was leaning against the wall, curling up into a small ball. He wiggled his way into her lap and buried into her stomach, purring softly. He remembered his mother purring to settle him and his clutchmates, so he figured it was worth a shot.

 She laughed quietly, and he felt amusement cross the bond. He smiles at that, settling down to sleep.

     Omega slowly opened her eyes, rubbing the sleep out of them. She went to stretch, but found herself spinning. With a yelp, she waved her arms about, trying to right herself. Her surroundings had changed completely. What had previously been a damp cave was now a void of neutral blues and purples. Occasionally, she would see a flicker of light appear.

 “You’re here!”

 A voice suddenly rang out from all around her, sounding like every voice ever spoken and at the same time, only one person. Omega shrunk back in fear, unable to tell where the voice was coming from.

 “Oh, don’t be frightened! I’m just so excited to finally be able to talk to one of my children!” The voice said, almost sounding sheepish.

 “Who- who are you? Where are you?” Omega squeaked.

 “I am known as the Force, little star. I am everywhere.” The voice explained.

 “You’re… what?” Omega held her head, the information making her brain hurt.

 “I know its a lot, and I wouldn’t usually be this direct, but I haven’t gotten the chance to truly talk to one of my children in so long! Even my brightest star could only feel my presence, and he has become so dim lately…” The Force sounded… sad.

 “Your brightest star?” Omega asked, crossing her legs.

 “Yes. I created him from stardust, love, and the wildness of nature itself. He was wonderful, and he would have saved them all, but he was taught to suppress his feelings and push down his troubles. He loved so strongly, at that made it hard for him to let go. In the end, a poison in human form snuffed out his Light, throwing him into the Dark.” The formless presence became somber, and Omega could feel its sadness.

 “But you,” It said suddenly, the sadness being replaced with cautious hope, “I can still save you. I did not create you, that wonderful honor was taken from me, but I can see your Light, little star. It is new and bright and shining, just as his was long ago. What’s better, I can truly, wholly speak to you, even if it’s just in dreamstate.”

 “I don’t understand. I’m not a Jedi, so why are you interested in me?” Omega asked.

 “Jedi is a recent concept, at least to me. Sith is the same. They are often people who have gone too far into the Light or the Dark, and have become blind to the Balance. Any living thing can have a strong connection with me. It just so happens that you were created with that exact purpose.” The Force explained.

 “What does that mean? What can I do?” Omega questioned, not sure how to process this.

 “That depends on you, little star. Many of my children use their abilities to help people, heal them, or create bonds that will last a lifetime and beyond. However, you can also use it to harm others, to defend yourself and your loved ones, or simply hurt them because you want to. That path is a slippery slope, however, and I must ask that you be careful with how you use your anger.” The Force’s voice was soft, but held a note of warning.

 “I will be, I promise.” Omega said, not wanting to do something that could really hurt someone.

 “Don’t fear your anger, my wondrous child. Sometimes, anger is necessary. Control is the key.” The Force explained, and Omega nodded.

 “Okay, okay I think I understand a bit now.” She said, rubbing the back of her neck. “Um, if I’ve always been able to communicate with you, why did you only just start talking to me now?”

 “The stress of your life recently has been keeping you closed off from me. Today, your mental walls broke.”

 “Oh.” Omega felt her heart sink at the thought of what had happened earlier. She’d just come back from collecting the flowers, which had actually been quite close by, only to hear shouting coming from within the ship. She’d heard Tech  angrily say that she didn’t belong with them, but not much else beyond that, as she had turned and ran almost immediately.

 “You believe that they hate you.” It wasn’t a question, but Omega nodded anyways.

 “I can understand why, but you have it all wrong, little star. They love you. They love you so much that I don’t even believe my most Darkness-blinded children could tear you away from them.”

 Omega blinked away tears that had begun to form, her confusion nearly palpable.

 “They have figured out that you have a connection to me. Some of them believe that you would be better off under the care of a Jedi. They worry that they will not be good enough for you.” Omega feels a ripple of annoyance go through her, although it is not her own. “Sometimes my children can be a bit ignorant, and because they do not share a connection like we do, I cannot tell them this. The Jedi ruined my brightest star, my Anakin. They seek peace and order, but life is not meant to be peaceful or controlled. Life is chaos, wild and free. That is what many of my children fail to understand. To walk the path of the Jedi is to practically shun life itself, and the Sith are even worse. They actively destroy life, disrupting the balance. I want you as far away from that mess as possible.”

 “So, they do want me? I didn’t do anything wrong?” Omega questioned.

 “No, starlight. You’ve made their lives better. I can feel their worry for you right now, they are terrified to lose you.” The Force then began to expand, and suddenly Omega was struck with wave after wave of worry and grief. She bared her teeth in sympathy.

 “I know that they care for you, but they must learn that they are your chosen family. Not the Jedi, not another family, them. Until they fall asleep, let them worry. Let them experience what life will be like if they break the still fragile bond that you all share. I will find a way to make a connection with them.”

 Omega wasn’t sure she liked that plan. “I don’t want them to suffer, and I don’t want to be apart from them! Isn’t there something else we could do?”

 The Force seemed to consider her request. “Perhaps, but you will have to find a way to convince them that this is my will.”

 Omega put a hand on her chin, thinking. “Can you control the weather?”

 “I have some sway over certain aspects.”

 “Okay, I’ve got an idea…”

     “OMEGA!”

 Echo’s throat felt raw, the muscles sore from him screaming to be heard over the roaring storm winds. He ignored the pain. He had to find her.

 “OMEGA, WHERE ARE YOU?!”

 “Echo?”

 Echo fixed his expression into a glare as he turned. The other members of the Bad Batch emerged from the storm-darkened jungle, their armor slick with rain.

 “What are you lot doing out here?” He snapped.

 “Looking for you and Omega. Echo, you’re hurt. Go back to the ship.” It was Hunter who spoke first. Echo, still hurt from earlier, looked disdainfully at the other man.

 “No. I’m finding Omega, and I’m not going anywhere until I know she’s safe. Now get out of here before you scare her off again.” He said coldly, wincing as he put weight on his injured leg.

 “Echo, please. You can’t stay out here, you’ll get sick.” Tech said, stepping forward.

 “Like you care! You made your feelings perfectly clear back there.” Echo turned away from the group, his eyes becoming a bit wet as his hurt feelings threatened to spill out. “We’re not batchmates. You don’t have to pretend to like me. Once I find Omega, you’ll never have to see me again.”

 “Echo, no!” Tech’s voice hitched in panic. “You’re my brother, batchmate or not, I still love you! I’m so sorry for the things I said earlier. I was angry and I knew they would hurt and I said them anyways because I was being an inconsiderate jackass. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but please don’t make me watch another one of my brothers die. We’ve lost so many already, and we’re going to loose so many more, but I don’t think I could handle it if you were one of them.”

 Tears pooled in Tech’s eyes underneath his helmet, and his heart strained to cope with the stress his wild emotions were causing. Echo was still for a minute, then slowly turned around, his eyes wide, but free of anger.

 “Y’mean it?” His voice was quiet and small, and it reminded Tech so much of the nights they’d spent comforting Hunter and Crosshair when they were much younger. Their enhanced traits made the darkness of the room scary sometimes, and despite the fact that he was the youngest of his batch, he’d been comforting them right alongside Wrecker.

 Tech nodded, and in the moment he had been temporarily blinded by a flash of lightning, Echo had crossed the distance and pulled Tech into a hug. Tech froze up for a split second, before wrapping his arms around Echo. Hunter and Wrecker were there in an instant, joining in on the moment of affection.

 “’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have yelled at you an’ Hunter.” Echo mumbled.

 “No, we were being stupid and sneaky about things. I already knew how miserable that made her, and yet I wanted to send her away anyways. We all want what’s best for Omega, but leaving her with someone else isn’t an idea I should have entertained.” Tech replied.

 “Thank the Maker! I thought I was actually going to have to do go with its plan.”

 The Bad Batch members separated and turned towards the forest beside them. Omega stepped out of the brush, an agitated Pillow sitting on her rain-soaked head. The amphibian seemed to be displeased by their very existence. She smiled weakly.

 “Omega!” The group shouted happily. The young girl rushed into Echo’s waiting arms, pressing her head into his chest. She shivered as powerful emotions welled up inside her, her still red eyes becoming wet again.

 “Oh adiik, vi're olar. Vi're olar.” Echo’s voice was full of relief and warmth and comfort,  and even if Omega couldn’t really understand what his words meant, she felt their soothing nature.

 “Omega, I’m so, so sorry for what I said earlier. We never wanted to leave you, we just-” Omega managed to get a hand free and waved Tech off.

 “You wanted to take me to a Jedi so that I could learn to use the Force, I know.” She said, smiling at him. “I know you worry about me, but please don’t ever think that I’ll be better of anywhere besides with all of you. I love you guys.”

 Tech blinked, stunned. The other clones shared his confusion and his surprise.

 “W-we love you too, and we’re sorry we didn’t tell you that before, but how did you know about the Jedi?” Hunter asked, kneeling down to be eye level with Omega. He resisted the urge to pull her into a protective hug when he saw her shiver.

 “I’ll show you! Here, hold Pillow. Careful, though. I’m pretty sure he hasn’t forgiven you yet.” Omega said, handing the amphibian over. Pillow growled at Hunter, baring his teeth.

 “Okay, watch this.” She said, cupping her hands around her mouth. “HEY FORCE! STRIKE TWO TREES WITH LIGHTNING IF WE JUST HAD A DREAM CONVERSATION!”

 In an instant, two trees on either side of Omega were set ablaze by twin bolts of lightning. Hunter grabbed Omega on instinct and pulled her away from the burning plants, the rest of his brothers backing up rapidly.

 “Woah!” Wrecker shouted, his hands flying up into the air.

 Echo stared awestruck at the trees, then at a grinning Omega.

 “What the hell was that?” He asked.

 “The Force! Turns out I can talk to it.” She explained.

 “You spoke with… the Force?” Hunter said slowly. “Like, the Force that the Jedi use?”

 “Yep! It was really happy to have someone to talk to.” Omega chirped.

 “Okay. Okay, okay, okay, okay. That’s normal. That’s completely normal and totally not something that makes me really wish general Kenobi was here.” Echo said, pressing his hands together. “The Force can talk to you, and you can talk to it. Cool. Cool.”

 “It wanted me to stay hidden for a bit because I think it’s mad at the Jedi for something and it wanted to talk to you guys when you fell asleep, but I thought that was really mean, so I asked if we could do something else to convince you not to bring me to a Jedi. But you didn’t even need to be convinced!” Omega added, shivering again. This time, Hunter did bring her against his chest as he stood, Pillow making his way onto Omega’s neck.

 “I’m glad we worked things out. I don’t like the idea of leaving you out here until we fell asleep.” Wrecker said, his face becoming illuminated by another flash of lightning.

 “Yeah, I think I would’a had some choice words for the Force if you’d gone through with that plan.” Echo agreed, rubbing his arms.

“We can talk about the Force being an less than agreeable later. Right now we have two very wet and very cold-looking squadmates who are going to catch their deaths out here.” Tech fretted, ushering the group back towards the ship. The clones laughed and began walking back through the storm, their hearts much lighter and their hope as high as ever.

         Somewhere, on a distant planet, an inhibitor chip reactivates.

[unsteadyshade]

may i please request from the prompt list : 33 and 56 together 😅 any pairing is fine..surprise us

i took this and ran with it. i barely remembered 56 towards the end, so if it’s a bit odd, forgive me asdfghjkl thank you for your constant support and for sending the ask! <3 i hope you enjoy! AO3

It’s been five years since Weiss has seen either Yang or Blake, ever since the partners--in what she believes is an accurately vague description of their current relationship, or lack thereof--decided to take time to tour Remnant together after everything settled down. She had sent them off with a fond farewell, steadfastly ignoring the odd pang in her own chest and had thought that would be the end of it. Or at least when they saw each other again, it’d be easier somehow for Weiss to face them.

But she should’ve known that reality wouldn’t be as easy to face. Especially alone, since Ruby had just taken off on another mission with Penny. Weiss wasn't going to just cancel though. That would be rude. It's not like she missed them.

"So did you miss us?" Yang immediately asks after settling into the chair across from her, Blake having successfully convinced them to let her pay. Weiss tried not to focus on the soft smile she gave Yang before walking away or the way that amethyst eyes lingered on her retreating form before turning back to Weiss. Unfortunately for Weiss, this means that she has to focus on the question, which isn't one she thinks she should answer honestly.

(The answer is with all of her heart. And then some.)

Finally settling on rolling her eyes, Weiss scoffs for emphasis. "No. Of course not."

It’s been five years since Weiss has seen them, but Yang can still read her so well. Her emotional intelligence is not something that Weiss likes in this moment, however. The blonde squints, her eyes brighter than Weiss has ever remembered, and barks out a single word. “Liar.”

Rolling her eyes once again, Weiss tries another tactic. “It’s unfair to ask that and not answer the question yourself.” She knows that Yang is smart, that she’d understand what Weiss is truly asking in what she’s not saying.

“I have missed you.” Yang says, softly and with so much certainty that Weiss’s heart aches to close the gap between them. She’s so close yet so far, and Weiss is still speechless by the time she senses another person’s presence approaching them. Weiss is grateful for the interruption.

“Excuse me, ladies.” Weiss is not grateful for the interruption anymore. She sighs before turning to look at the approaching blue-haired man. His cocky smirk reminds her of boys who try to make a move--oh.

Oh no. “Not interested, man.” Yang attempts to curtly cut off any attempts at his potential flirting. The man only smirks before continuing.

“Not interested in what? I just want to talk to you two lovely ladies. It’s a shame you’re here alone.”

“We’re not alone.” Weiss and Yang say at the same time though for likely different reasons. She tries not to overthink it as she gives him her best glare. The man clears his throat awkwardly but doesn’t move away from their table. He gestures vaguely between them with a hand, which Weiss finds is an alarmingly accurate way to describe their current relationship.

“What do you mean? You two aren’t together. If you were, you’d be more...obvious.” He smirks, as if that mental image alone would satisfy him. It makes Weiss’s skin crawl, memories of being treated as some sort of trophy for Atlas boys clawing at her mind.

Yang’s chair scrapes loudly as she stands then, startling Weiss out of her thoughts. She’s quick to stand too, knowing how quickly things may escalate. Her friend jabs a finger into the man’s chest, and Weiss can already see the familiar redness spreading over amethyst. “Listen pal. I’m only gonna say this one more time. We’re not interested. Either get that in your head and leave us alone or I’ll make sure the message sticks.” Her gauntlets shine ominously as she raises them for effect, and he swallows nervously while looking over at Weiss.

“Hey come on. Can’t you ladies take a joke or lighten up? This was all for fun.” Weiss looks him over quickly, noticing the tailored button up he has on and unscathed hands. He’s just another Atlas civilian, and she sighs as she places a firm but gentle hand on Yang’s shoulder. Almost red eyes meet hers in disbelief, but Weiss just shakes her head. They stare at each other for a few charged moments, the heat radiating off of Yang impossible not to feel now, before she sighs and closes her eyes. When she opens them again, amethyst is all that’s present now, though that doesn’t stop Yang from shoving him and grabbing Weiss’s hand to practically drag her out of the café.

It’s only after they’ve walked a fair ways away from the café that Weiss squeezes the hand gripping hers hard enough that she pauses and turns around with wide eyes. “Weiss?”

“What was that? We didn’t need to scare him. In case you’ve forgotten, I do know how to reject unwanted advances.” Yang looks down, and it’s when she feels a gentle prosthetic thumb rubbing over the back of her hand does Weiss realize that she hasn’t let go yet. Weiss isn’t sure if she should pull away or if that would make things awkward, so she stays for now.

“I know! I just...I didn’t like how he was looking at you.” Weiss frowns. Yang is overprotective, of course, but there was something new in her tone that she isn’t sure how to interpret. She must’ve recognized it too because she looks away with a clenched jaw.

“Yang, I’m used to this. I assure you it’s no issue if I have to reject someone. I know how to handle these situations.”

“But you shouldn’t have to! No one should be treating you like you’re owed to them. I just want that to stop.” Yang declares, blazing now red eyes meeting Weiss’s frigid blue ones. Weiss actually gasps, the look more intensely passionate than any other time her friend has looked at her. Then those eyes move down to her still slightly parted lips, and Weiss immediately licks them to test the waters of their bond. She feels like she’s burning up already as Yang starts trembling, almost as if she wants to--

“Kiss me.” The words leave Weiss’s wet lips unbidden. She’d take them back, but Weiss doesn’t do things halfway, even if they are accidental. Besides, the way that Yang’s gaze flared after she spoke only encourages her.

“What?” Yang sounds so affected, and Weiss wants to taste all of that hunger.

“Just kiss me.” Weiss repeats. She’s barely done before Yang is practically crashing into her, mouth meeting hers over and over with a frenzy she’s learned is a staple of their bond. She’s not sure who decides to add exploratory hands to the mix first, but they’re grasping and gasping now, Yang picking her up and pinning her against the alley’s wall.

Undeterred, Weiss moves to plant kisses along her neck, reveling in all of Yang’s reactions, whether it’s from her body or mouth. Yang reacts with her entire being, not shying away from loud sounds or movements that leave no doubt as to how affected she is. When she gently runs a hand through Weiss’s short hair while feeling her teammate’s tongue soothing another bite on her neck, Yang can’t help but rasp out what’s been on her mind ever since first seeing Weiss again after five years.

“How’d this happen?” Her voice is so hoarse now, and Weiss loves it even if it took a few moments for the question to register. Especially because it took a few moments to register. She leans back, relishing how easily Yang can hold her in place even as she’s trying to catch her breath.

“A few years ago someone accidentally cut off a part of my long hair in the middle of a fight. I decided to just...keep cutting it.” Yang fiddles with her hair as she talks, smiling at her fondly, and Weiss can’t help but wonder if she has a type she goes for. The thought immediately leaves her as soon as it surfaces, but it’s hard to ignore the heated look in Yang’s eyes that she’s only ever looked at Blake with.

“It looks good.” Their moment is broken by an all too familiar voice, and Weiss’s eyes widen even as she sees Blake walking up to them. She’s unsure what to say or if she even should attempt to explain herself. Then Blake tilts her head up, and Weiss is suddenly staring into a second set of darkened eyes. “You look good. I forgot to say that earlier.” Weiss stares, unable to speak for multiple reasons. She had expected Blake to react...differently, to say the least.

Was her assumption wrong? Were they not together? Or did they just have a different kind of relationship to what she had initially assumed?

Or did they normally include a third person? The possibility of that is too much for Weiss to consider right now, heated hands and heated looks searing through her. She takes the safe way out, locking all of her thoughts away for now.

“Did you bring us our coffees or will we have to go somewhere else?” Weiss asks. Blake slowly swipes a thumb across her slightly swollen bottom lip while answering.

“I have them.” Blake smirks, and Weiss regrets ever asking. “You’re still thirsty?” She swipes them lightly on their shoulders as they chuckle with a huff. She can’t win with them.

(They all decide to stay at a hotel for some reason that night. The receptionist informs them that there are two rooms available, and Weiss immediately accepts one for herself before anyone can object. She doesn’t know if she’s just missed an opportunity of sorts with the way they look at her as she bids them a quick farewell but doesn’t regret her choice...until she’s alone with her thoughts in a too big bed at least. The bed could fit two or three overall, and that’s not helping her racing thoughts. Blake and Yang have a room to themselves, and Weiss wonders if they would’ve selected so if she hadn’t claimed one for herself first. It’s the last thought she has before falling asleep and falling into dreams of dark, dark coal fanning the flames of bright, bright flames that Weiss is all too happy to be consumed by.)

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

It’s been two weeks since Weiss misspoke and made the best worst mistake of her life, and she’s been working on how to appropriately apologize to Blake. Her friend deserves it. Weiss crossed a line in their relationship--whatever it is--and she refuses to ignore it any longer, even if it may make things awkward. She finds an opportunity for some alone time with Blake when Ruby drags her sister down for a mission in Mantle while Blake and her stay up in Atlas.

Except Weiss forgot how focused she and Blake are during missions. The duo have crafted a plan to eavesdrop on suspected dust smugglers and are currently sitting in the same Faunus friendly restaurant that they were just in a few weeks ago. No blue-haired men are in sight, so Weiss counts that as a win. What feels significantly less of a win is how she still hasn’t spoken about anything that didn’t count as small talk to Blake yet.

They’re seated close to the suspects to overhear but not close enough to be suspicious. The men are sitting much too close to be considered casual and talking quietly. From this angle, Weiss is having a hard time overhearing anything, and she’s not sure if Blake is faring any better even with her Faunus hearing. Weiss stirs her cup of coffee as she speaks quietly.

“Can you hear anything?” Blake frowns and sighs, placing her teacup down.

“No, I can’t make out their words. If I angled my head just a bit, I’d be able to tell. I’d have to do it in a way that wasn’t suspicious though...” Blake stares at her for a long moment as if considering something. Weiss raises a brow.

“If you have an idea, I’m open to listening.”

“Kiss me.” Weiss nearly chokes on her next mouthful of coffee but manages to barely swallow it down. She briefly wonders if karma is real after all for her to be hearing the exact same words she used on Yang the last time they were here.

“What?”

“Just kiss me.” Weiss stares as her friend tilts her head, Faunus ears now angled towards the other table. Blake nods, indicating that she can hear them now. All Weiss thinks as Blake slowly leans forward is that this is for the good of the mission.

When their lips do meet, Weiss considers asking for similar missions in the future. And because she’s been on her mind for the past two weeks, Weiss can’t help it when her thoughts start drifting from the past to the present. There are differences--the lingering taste of tea on her tongue--but also similarities, and Weiss is breathless from their passion long before Blake leans back. She doesn’t move far, their heavy breaths intermingling in the small space between them.

“Did you get what you were looking for?” Weiss whispers, unable to take her eyes off of her.

“I did.” Blake whispers back. Weiss isn’t sure if they’re still talking about the mission and is too afraid to ask so just nods.

“I’m really glad I came back early.” A voice startles Weiss again, and she’s already planning to apologize when Yang’s cheeky wink makes her pause. The blonde leans over their table and smirks, reminding Weiss of how Blake had a similar expression after catching them. “So is there room for one more or...?”

Blake’s lighthearted laugh and fond smile makes her heart flutter, but she’s too focused on the question to answer. Room for one more? Could she possibly be...?

The rest of the mission goes flawlessly of course, but Weiss would be lying if she said she was focused on it the entire time. It frustrates her enough that she decides that she’s tired of being left out of something that feels like it should be obvious. She intends to get some answers one way or another, even if she has to put her heart on the line to do so.

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

This time, Weiss only waits a few days before putting her plan into motion. She makes sure they celebrate Ruby’s birthday at the Schnee mansion since it’s large enough for everyone to gather. It makes Weiss’s heart beat pleasantly as she observes their friends--family now--mingle with her kin. There’s still a ways to go in repairing certain relationships, but Weiss is proud of the progress they’ve made, individually and together.

It’s likely past midnight by the time Weiss heads to her room to change after Ruby had spilled some punch on her accidentally. Weiss had rolled her eyes and assured her best friend that everything was fine. It had taken several more reassurances before Ruby believed her, but she truly didn’t care about appearances much now.

In her room, Weiss pauses before the large mirror and grimaces only slightly at the dark stain on her button up shirt. She’s honestly just glad that her short hair wasn’t dirty. After unbuttoning her shirt, Weiss looks back into the mirror to see her other teammates standing behind her near the door. They had been stealing glances at her all night, individually and together, and she knew it was only a matter of time before they decided to talk to her.

Turning around, Weiss crosses her arms as she stares them down, taking silent satisfaction in how their gazes travel to the unbuttoned shirt before refocusing on her face. “You two have been staring at me all night. Is there something you need?”

The partners share one of their wordless glances before turning to face her together. “So we’re not gonna talk about how you’ve kissed us both?” Subtlety, not Yang’s strong suit. For once, Weiss is glad for it since she wasn’t sure she’d ever have brought it up herself. She shifts a bit as she leans against her dresser.

“If I’ve offended either of you, I apologize. The situations weren’t ideal, and clearly things spiraled beyond what was appropriate.” They stare at her, perplexed. Weiss huffs and glares back. “Well, say something!” Yang continues staring at her while Blake clears her throat.

“Um...how do you feel about that?” Weiss stares at her. She had expected Blake to formulate a different question but notices how nervous her friend is. Raising her brows, Weiss glances at Yang and notices that she’s just as nervous. And now knowing that they’re both nervous makes her feel the same.

“What...do you mean by that?” Weiss asks carefully.

“You know...did you like it? Wanna do it again sometime maybe?” Yang asks, the last question blurted out so quickly Weiss had to take a moment to decipher what exactly she said. When she does comprehend, she stares back with wide eyes.

“Excuse me? I thought you two...” She clears her throat and tries again. “Is that...something you’re both interested in?”

“Wait. What were you going to say?” Blake asks, intentionally avoiding answering. Weiss rolls her eyes but indulges her, looking directly at the partners as she speaks.

“I thought you two were together.” They look at each other, and Weiss raises her brows when she see small blushes on their cheeks. It’s Yang who speaks up first.

“We’re always together.” She rolls her eyes again.

“That’s not what I meant. I thought...” Weiss trails off as she sees their reddening faces. Wait. They weren’t...? Oh.

Oh. She’s not sure if she just made the best or worst mistake of her life. But there is one thing she is sure of. Weiss grabs a fresh button up shirt and moves towards the door.

“I’ll let you two sort things out then--”

“Weiss--” They call out and each grab one of her hands. She stares at the uneven circle they make, points of connection with no definite beginning or end. Weiss slowly looks up at her friends’ similarly conflicted faces. They’re both confused now, and she knows they can both feel how quick her pulse is beating through their gentle holds on her wrists.

Maybe saying what she’s been burying for years won’t help, but maybe it will. Either way, Weiss can’t bear to have them look at her like that any longer. She takes a deep breath in then looks at Yang. It’ll be easier to say this when only looking at one of them.

“I’ve been in love with you for years.”

[blastoisemonster]

Kodomo No Omocha’s Sticker Album Highlights (Merlin, 2001, Italian)

Let's keep talking about retro japanese cartoons, shall we? I've done some posts lately in which I reviewed Game Boy games based on comics or animations from Japan, with the intention of covering series that I either used to watch as a kid or recall being popular during the GB and GBC eras. A lot of these games have never been released outside Japan, so it's also an occasion to gather up some imports and see what Italy has missed on. There's actually a particular cartoon I wanted to talk about since the start of this research, but unfortunately it seems it has never recieved any videogame adaptation. But hey, this is my blog, and I can talk about whatever I want! >:C Also I suddenly remembered my Fandom tag has been created purposely for non-gaming objects. >.> So, let's look at some stickers while I tell you the tale of Rossana.

Rossana can be best described as the soap opera that spawned a second wave of nipponic hysteria among every single italian person under 20 during the very last period of the 90s. It's like The Bold And The Beautiful looked at Pokèmon and said "yeah, I want something like that.". Its popularity hit even harder my personal view of the world as the plot starts with the protagonists attending the last year of elementary school... which is exactly what me and my friends were doing, multiplying the relatable factor tenfold. This cartoon took everyone by their necks since its first episode: it was broadcasted on what was, at the time, the best and most popular italian channel for children entertainment, and heavily advertised before starting, so we knew exactly when to tune in to catch it. The day after the first episode, school looked like a different place. Everyone in class was chanting the opening at the top of their lungs; boys were acting like the male protagonists, all girls mimicked the main role Rossana, the more artisticly inclined ones started doodling the characters anywhere possible, including textbooks and homework. Teachers were in tears. I had watched the first episode and found it amusing enough to keep me entertained, so for some period I fully partecipated in the general enjoyment of the cartoon. Then, I started missing episodes (when you missed something on TV during the 90s... it was gone!) and upon returning to it, I found the plot had become much more complex and centered on sentimental intrigues, of which I never gave a toss about, so I jumped off the hype train while others still followed it until the end.

As it is usual for these productions, Rossana was another anime based on a manga series; the original work is titled "Kodomo No Omocha" (which literally means "Children's Plaything"... yeah, I too find it a tad creepy), drawn by mangaka Miho Obana and serialized by Ribon from 1994 to 1998. It tells the story of Rossana Kurata, a child actress (an idol in the original story) trying to balance her career with a normal kid's life by going to school and having normal friends: however, her class is anything but normal and she finds herself often fighting against the biggest bully of the school group, Hayama (translated as Heric in italian). As the story progresses, though, Sana understands Heric's complex and at times completely inappropriate attitude is a result of a troubled childhood, having lost his mother at birth and being bullied by his older sister and completely ignored by his father. Willing to help him out, Sana befriends him and starts to develop even deeper feelings, also sharing her own troubled past: she had been actually abandoned as a newborn and adopted by Misako, a famous writer. New characters are introduced along the way, among which the child actor Charles, Sana's schoolmate but also colleague which the girl will work alongside during a trip to the States, and Funny, an extremely extroverted kid that will at first become close friends with Sana, but that will, at some point, steal Heric's heart, leaving Sana to deal with heartbreak and jealousy. Despite the story being drawn in an energetic shojo style and the episodes showing many hysterical/demential jokes along the way, Kodomo No Omocha is a dramatic story centered on overcoming past secrets, venomous feelings, and describing the difficult shift from childhood to adolescence.

The original 10 manga volumes got adapted for animation in 102 episodes, which broadcasted on TV Tokyo from 1996 to 1998. In Italy, the anime got imported first with the direct title "Rossana": it was aired in its entirety during all of the year 2000, and yes, all the 102 episodes got translated! Unfortunately, the channel wanted to make Rossana completely targetable to little kids, which meant that many plot elements had to undergo heavy censorship. The result was a comedy/demential series that at times showed a sentimental route, and for the rest felt very cut, like it was hiding something. This was no Chou Gals!-styled localizaion effort: scenes were edited or completely deleted, names and terms translated losing all context, graphics and objects concerning japanese culture got zoomed out, some episodes even aired randomly without following the original order, and finally the ending got cut, leaving it as an open cliffhanger. Kodomo No Omocha is, originally, marketed towards an adolescent audience, but kids are a much more profitable target, so a lot of the original plot points went away: Sana no longer thinks of Rei (her adult manager, called Robby in italian) as his boyfriend; it's never mentioned that her actual mother abandoned her in a park after giving birth at only 14 years old; and many instances in which some kids (Heric, but also Komori in later eps) practice self-harm or have suicidal thoughts are cut in their entirety. And yet, despite this general mangling, the story managed to become popular anyway, gaining three reruns, some video distribution on VHS and DVD (both cut, for unknown reasons, after the 20th episode), and an opening with lyrics that will never leave the minds of an entire generation. The manga got translated only after 2002, getting marketed instead for its actual audience and going for a literal translation of its original title: "Il giocattolo dei bambini - Rossana" got published by Dynit in its entirety, however I'm not sure wether it underwent the same censorship measures of the cartoon or it was left to a more faithful state.

The hype about Rossana was interestingly lacking of any substantial, original merchandise imported from their origin country; instead, every gadget we had about the anime was produced by italian companies and it consisted in the usual cheapish stuff sold in order to cash a quick buck on popular media. We had school supplies such as bags, pencil cases and diaries, decorated stationary, and the never-missing sticker album. This last merchandise, aptly featured in this post, is what I remember most since everyone was trading doubles at school; the blindingly hot pink package has also burned a permanent image in my mind. Published by Merlin in 2001, Rossana's abundantly pink album could contain 204 stickers; be them glossy, holographic, single or combined, it adds up as quite a large selection considering that all images shown were nothing more than screenshots of the cartoon, with album pages filling up a description of episodes shown, or giving a little more insight on the general plot. At least my previously reviewed Pokèmon album showed interesting action poses by Sugimori and doubled up as a Pokèdex, but I do recognize the latter can count on a much more substantial franchise. What Rossana's album excels in, though, is its value; remember when I said a completed Pokèmon album was only worth a few bucks? Well, a completed Rossana album goes instead for nothing less than a hundred euros on secondhand markets. Even the single stickers, if sold in lots, can become a pretty penny, and still sealed booster packs can range from 30 to 70 euros depending on how many you're selling. I can already picture italian readers going through their cupboards to see if they still have this relic intact! As for me, I was too focused on Pokèmon during that period to care about filling up another sticker album, so I had completely skipped that. And no, I'm not gonna spend 100+ euros on an album just to make a Fandom post: what you're seeing here are all images collectors have shown to the net.

It's interesting to notice that Merlin tried to cash in on the anime's popularity even beyond the sticker album itself, by advertising even among the album pages an upcoming periodical (monthly I suppose?) magazine almost all centered on the cartoon, but trying to double up as a typical girls' magazine with pictures of boybands, various articles, and the always present and equally emberassing mail section. For some reason I have very vivid flashbacks of me going through the pages of the first volume: probably some friend brought it at school, they had it lying about at their house, or I may have bought it along with other girls then left it to them. This mag was nothing particular and doomed to be shortlived: you can't keep a single anime series relevant forever, and it was apparent that arguments tried to always pull Rossana into context when in reality it had nothing to do with the articles. It seemingly disappeared after its second issue, and got buried under the sheer abundance of more relevant girly mags, among which the legendary Cioè.

All in all, Rossana’s shout of livelyhood was probably short, but loud enough to have shook the heart and soul of many of us, especially in this country. It’s apparent that companies wanted to keep the profit margin as high as possible by not importing any substantial japanese gadget about Sana and opting instead for printed publications or cheapy stationery; however, apart from dolls, plushes and general toys, even Japan didn’t seem too keen on releasing actually peculiar stuff dedicated to the franchise. The most technological gimmick I found is a toy audio recorder, of which I can only find a few images online and not even one single listing so I can get and review it. Maybe I’m just sour no one ever thought about doing a Game Boy adaptation, because I’m sure it would’ve been a major hit among girls here. Oh well, can’t change the past... but surely you can remember it. :)

[always-anxious612]

Magic in the Air: Chapter 5

Description: Patton offers to help. That’s all he’s really ever wanted to do. Help his friends. But will that eventually lead to a mess that he wasn’t prepared for?

Pairings: roceit, analogical, intruality, platonic DRLAMP

Warnings: food mention, blood mention, slightly gorey image mention  (please let me know if I missed anything or if you want something tagged)

Word Count: 1,746

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8,  Chapter 9

“Watch out!”

The yell came from the living room and at the sound, Patton instinctively ducked (quack), biting his lip as a book slammed into the kitchen wall behind him. He had been doing a lot of that recently…ducking that is. With Roman, Virgil, and Dee all working on their magic over the past few weeks, the household had become a bit of a chaotic mess.

“Sorry, Padre.” Roman apologized coming into the kitchen to grab the book. “You ok?”

“Perfectly dandy, Ro.” Patton grinned, standing up and patting Roman on the back. Roman returned the smile and hurried back to the living room when Logan called his name.

“Hello, Patton.” A smooth voice greeted from the front doorway. Dee made his way into the kitchen to stand next to Patton and sighed gazing int the living room. “How is our favorite prince doing today?”

After Roman had gained a little more confidence, he had started having his lessons separate from Dee once again in order to make the best of all of their schedules. Needless to say, their schedules had become a bit hectic ever since everybody started gaining magic all of a sudden. Even Remus and Patton were swamped with trying to help Logan in his experiments, keep up with their own class schedules and being there for the three struggling with controlling their magic.

“I think he’s doing great. Only one book flew in here today, so that’s a bonus!” Patton cheered, smiling at Dee.

“Oh?” Dee purred letting a soft grin inch its way onto his face. “How marvelous.” Patton nodded in agreement, looking toward the living room where Roman had six things hovering in the air.

“That’s the most he’s gotten to, right?” Patton asked as Roman started moving the things in a circle in the air. It looked like he was juggling without actually touching anything. He’d been working really hard to get that part right. Since he had had his magic a bit longer than the others and now knew a bit more about his limits thanks to…what had happened, he had really mastered just floating the objects and had moved on to rotating them, moving them, and adding more objects. It was amazing to see him improving rather fast, even if he sometimes still lost control of an object or two. After he had set the objects down, he glanced into the kitchen and spotted Dee. With a quick word to Logan, he ran over and jumped at his boyfriend. Dee let out a little oomph as he caught Roman and supported his weight while the actor wrapped his legs around Dee’s waist.

“Did you see, Dee?” He gasped, like an excited child. “I got six objects up this time.”

“I saw, my prince. You did amazing!” Dee encouraged, pecking Roman on the nose.

“I’d say you’re actually improving quite quickly Roman.” Logan chimed in from where he’d come to stand at the doorway of the kitchen. Roman smiled gratefully at him as he finally released Dee.

“Thanks, Lo.”

“I’m only speaking the truth.” Logan replied, smirking softly as Roman blushed at the compliment. As Logan opened his mouth to continue, a heavy thumping on the staircase drew all of their attention.

“Logan, we’re gonna be late for class! You said you’d come get me ten minutes before we had to leave.” Virgil panicked as he rushed suddenly downstairs and headed toward the door. Surprised, Logan checked his watch and cursed under his breath.

“Great job today Roman. Don’t forget that you and Dee have tomorrow off because I have to help Virgil make one of the backgrounds for the play.” Logan reminded as he grabbed his bag and quickly followed Virgil to the door. Patton smiled after them, giggling at how obvious it was that they were dating. They hadn’t outright said it yet, but it wasn’t hard to tell. He knew that Dee knew as well from the knowing looks he kept giving the two. It was great that they got to work in at least one of the same classes together. With Logan being in Theater Design and Technology and Virgil being in Stagecraft, they often worked together on projects for the school’s major productions too. In fact, all of the others were also pursuing careers in theatre: Dee in costume designing, Remus in stage makeup, and Roman in acting. However, Patton himself was majoring in Dance. Sometimes he was a bit sad that he was the only one that never got to help in the production of the plays, but he at least got to help Roman when he was auditioning for a musical and needed help with the dances. Plus, Remus often helped him practice his partnered dances since he had always been interested in the subject. Speaking of Remus…  

“Has anyone seen Remus? I have something he needs for his makeup class.” Patton remembered.

“I think he was in his room last I saw him.” Roman answered as he began to get the ingredients to make himself a sandwich.

“Would you like a sandwich Pat?” he offered, looking up.

“Aw, thanks kiddo! That’d be great! Could you make one for Remus too? I don’t think he’s come out of his room all day, so he probably hasn’t eaten.”

“Sure, but I am not adding sardines to his ham sandwich this time. He wants those he can get them himself.”

Patton giggled softly before heading upstairs to get the makeup brushes he had for Remus. He had borrowed them to do his makeup for a costumed dance routine he had to do for class last week and kept forgetting to give them back, but Remus could only last so long making up excuses for why he didn’t have his makeup brushes in a makeup class. He was getting ready to knock on Remus’s door when he heard angry muttering from the other side. Slightly worried, he hesitantly knocked on the door anyway.

“Remus? Kiddo? Roman made some sandwiches for lunch if you want to come and eat” he called. The muttering fell silent but there was no answer.

“Um, Are you ok?” Patton asked hesitantly.

“’M fine.” Remus responded, sounding unconvincing. His answer was much quieter than usual and there was a slight waver to his voice.

“I’m coming in, ok?”

When there was no answer, Patton took that as an ok and cautiously opened the door.

Remus was slumped over at his desk, his head resting on a piece of artwork of a girl with half of her face completely covered in tiny cracks that branched out and bled into the rest of her face and down into her neck…like a china doll that had been dropped and shattered, just on the verge of breaking completely. It was haunting but still beautiful, and though it wasn’t Patton’s type of art, he could still admire the talent and work that went into it.

“That’s beautiful, Remus.” He complimented, still gazing at how intricate the cracks were drawn. Remus snapped his head up and stared at Patton then looked back to his drawing.

“You think?” he asked, chewing his lip as he studied the picture.

“Yeah, of course! The cracks in the face are so intricate and you did her hair so nicely and the way the fractures kinda start to bleed into the rest of her face but fade off. It’s really great. You did amazing.”

“It was gonna be my project for my makeup class. I was gonna add some blood seeping from the cracks and not paint her face so it’d look like an actual fractured human face instead of just a cracked doll and everything! I mean, a cracked china doll is so overdone, right? This way, it’ll look much cooler and probably be a lot creepier. And a bit more gory, with the blood and flesh and stuff.” Remus ranted, smiling at the thought. Patton tried not to grimace at the concept. It really was very cool…just not his type of thing.

“What changed? Did you find a better project to do?” Patton asked noticing that Remus’s smile faded at the question.

“My professor said that it wasn’t possible for someone with my skillset to get it perfected in time and recommended I pick an easier design.”

“What? But that doesn’t make any sense. You’re not going to learn new skills if you don’t challenge yourself. I mean you are in the class to improve your skillset.”  

Remus was silent for a minute before speaking again.

“So…you don’t think I have the skillset either?” he asked quietly.

“Wh—No, Remus. That’s not what I meant. Not at all. I actually think this is right up your alley. I’m sure you’d do amazing. I’m just saying even if that’s what he believes, he should still let you do the project. So what if its challenging? You’re there to learn aren’t you? And if you want to push yourself so you can grow, I think he should encourage that not turn you away from it.” Patton pointed out. Remus smiled, but it still seemed too sad for Patton’s taste.

“What if you did it anyway?” he suggested. Remus’s grin suddenly turned mischievous as he raised an eyebrow.

“Patton are you suggesting that I disobey authority? I never thought I’d see the day.” He gasped dramatically. Patton flushed bright red as he slapped Remus’s shoulder playfully.

“I-I just think that if you do it and perfect it anyway, then you can prove it to him that he was wrong.” Patton defended “But this isn’t worth a lot of your grade or anything right? Because it might be best if you don’t test your professor when you can fail the whole class because of it.”

“No, of course not. It’s just a little project.” Remus replied, waving it off and looking away. Patton raised an eyebrow at his suspicious reaction but shrugged it off as Remus continued.

“I need a subject to practice it on though. None of my classmates like to be my subject anymore.” He pouted.

“Well, I could be your subject if you like.” Patton offered.

“You—You will? But this—I mean, this isn’t usually your thing.”

“It’s not but it still looks really cool, and you always help me with my dance routines. It’s the least I could do.”

“Ok, then. Thanks Patty Cakes!” Remus grinned. Patton nodded, hiding a blush.

“Anytime. Now let’s go get those sandwiches.”

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