#(beautifully‚ the maths backed me up on that guess)

[falderaletcetera]

sickos voice: yesssss

(recipe)

[mvltisstuff]

teenage fever - p.p **

summary: peter helps cool his girl down after she gets in trouble at school

peter parker x reader

smut warning pookies 🤭

“got detention today, don’t have to drive me home :(“

peter saw the text the second it arrived, happy to see y/n’s name flash upon his screen. however, his face matched the emoji she put when he noticed what it said.

“what happened? i’ll pick you up and we can head back together after, okay?”

she left a little thumbs up on the message. “i’ll explain later, i’m just annoyed rn”

so, he waited in the parking lot for her. he never minds waiting for her, especially when it’s as rare as this. she never gets in trouble, she’s always been a good student, so he’s completely lost as to why she’s being punished. he sits in his car on his phone for a bit, still pondering why she may have gotten detention.

he saw her walk out of the back doors of the school, heading toward his car with her bag slung over one shoulder. he could instantly see the frustration on her face, and was ready to listen and be the best boyfriend he could.

she walked up, opening the door and sighing as she sat in the passengers seat. “you’ll never fucking guess.”

“i really don’t think i could,” he replies, looking into her face that almost has a smirk on it.

“my shitty calc teacher, right?”

“mhm, go on.”

“she reported my outfit to the office and gave me a detention for being disrespectful about it. all i said was that my outfit was fine! people wear shit like this all the time, and suddenly it’s a problem when i do it?”

peter realizes that he hasn’t gotten a good look at y/n today. at least he hasn’t seen her around school when they have this schedule. so, he takes his time now to scan the outfit that the math teacher supposedly hated.

her hair was pulled back lightly, a few pieces left out in the front. it shaped her face beautifully, the face peter admires every day. he looked down to her top, it was white with thin straps, the ends almost going into a corset-type of look. her waist was perfectly shaped, the one that peter always runs his hands down when standing beside her. the top pushed her boobs up as well, complimenting her lovely round breasts and cleavage that she showed. her shorts were just under her belly button, the dark blue showing off her hips and the way her thighs looked. he tried to sneak by a peek to her ass, turning peter into a hormonal freshman again. he takes in her entire figure, thinking about all the times he’s touched it, kissed it, pleasured it.

“you good?” y/n asks, her brows furrowing when they notice the blank stare on peters face. “babe, stop staring at my boobs, i’ve had enough of that today.”

“sorry!” he exclaims. “i think your outfits good- or hot- well you always look beautiful no matter what you wear.”

“thanks,” she smiles, seeing through his act. just by the way she looks at him, peter can feel himself getting warmer. every single time she fans her lashes while she looks up at him sends goosebumps down his arms, leading to his crotch as he shuffled uncomfortably in the driver seat. “you’re so funny sometimes.”

“what?” he asks.

“i just turned you on by stepping into this car, peter. don’t act all innocent on me,” she tells him, tilting herself more angled toward him. he notices the way her arms get closer together, pushing her tits together and peter can feel himself getting harder. “wow, maybe my teacher was right. maybe i am too distracting.”

she pulls a grin onto her face, letting her hand rest on his thigh. he shivers lightly, placing his own hand on top of hers. she places a hand on the side of his face, pushing his lips against her own. just by kissing her boyfriend, y/n could almost forget about the trouble she was in. she’d do it all again if it lead her to this, though. his hand brushes against her knuckles, lightly floating her hand over his sweatpants.

they are both fully facing each other, eyes shut as they fall into the others mouth. peter could always make her feel like they were the only people in the world, and no one else mattered.

he could easily taste the flavored gloss she had on, the scent instantly entering his nose as she inches closer to him. his fingers ran over her jaw and over her hair, admiring the silky strands on her head that he loved so much. he wishes the noises she made were louder, so he could hear her little noises perfectly, just the ones that turn him on more. it lasts for minutes, her hands trailing down to his thick biceps from all the crime fighting he did. her touch was always warm besides the cool feeling of her few rings on his skin. he let himself wander down to her waist, caressing the side before landing them onto her hips.

“y/n,” he groans into her mouth, pulling away slowly to lean his head against hers.

“shh,” she cuts him off. “i know what you want.”

“i want you to wear this every day.”

“yeah, yeah,” she mumbles, chuckling at him as he writhes under her touch. one of his hands still remains on her hip as she starts to inch her fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants. he can feel himself getting antsy for her to touch him, to do anything to him to relieve the pressure in his body.

his wish is her command in an instant, helping him to pull down the sweatpants past his crotch to reveal his boxers underneath. when she peels down the boxers, his hardened dick is immediately in her grasp, her mouth watering just by looking at his. she leaves a soft kiss on his tip, only relieving an gram of tightness through his abdomen.

she wraps her hand around his shaft, starting to pump lightly and gets the sweetest moan from peters lips. she adores seeing him like this, the way he falls into her grasp and lets her please him. “jesus, y/n.”

“i know, baby,” she smiles up at his blushed face while he looks at his favorite sight. she takes her tongue and drags it up the underside of his dick, wrapping her mouth around him and keeping her hands on the end. peters hands fly around the place at the intensity, not knowing where to put them until he places one on y/n’s head and the other on the side of his thigh.

she bobs her head up and down on him, sucking his dick with such ease that it makes him more turned on than he’s ever been. he hates to think of this, but he thinks of her in that class, her perfect body on display for him as the teacher eyes her.

the way his dick throbs and jumps makes her feel the arousal form in her heat, just knowing that she’s completely wet over hearing peters moans for her. she pulls back, letting the saliva form in her mouth before sucking her mouth back onto him. she looks over at his veiny hands clutching the car door, his chest heavily breathing and heart pounding. “y/n, fuck i’m really close.”

she signals to him that he can come by just continuing her motions on him. her extra hand moves down to his balls while she fondles them as he groans out into the thick air of the car. when he finally reaches his orgasm, his cum coats the inside of her mouth, settling in her tongue as she wipes some from her lip. he laughs when he watches her swipe some off her chin and swallow the rest, only finding it hotter as he gets hard again.

once peter catches his breath again, he loops his finger through the belt holes in her shorts, pulling them up toward him and he’s able to see the curve of her ass in them and he watches her thigh swing over him, just remembering all the times he’s been in-between them.

“wait,” he starts. “get these off.” he points to the shorts, helping her peel them off her legs to noticed the lacy pair of panties she had on underneath. he doesn’t bother to take her shirt off, not wanting to waste another moment where he’s not inside of her. “you look so hot today, baby.”

“thanks, peter,” she grins against his lips. “but i can just tell from how hard you are right now.” she grinds herself into his crotch, the fabric of her underwear rubbing against him, making him moan. he reached down, moving her panties to the side and runs his fingers through her warm folds. she pushes her warmth up against his dick, sliding his length through her slick pussy.

“you’re this wet for me already?”

“you’re crazy if you think i haven’t been this wet for you all day.” she whispers into his ear. “honestly, there wasn’t a period today that i didn’t think about you fucking me in this car, peter. even in detention.”

“it’s a good thing mr. stark tinted my windows, can’t see anything in here.”

she continues to rock her hips against him before he reaches underneath them. he shoves two of his fingers into her vagina, craving the taste of her on his tongue. she sighs out at the feeling of him filling her with just two of his fingers, only to be disappointed when he pulls them out again.

he brings them to his mouth, sucking on his fingers before reaching back down to his own dick, slipping it through her folds before sinking into her pussy.

they moan out simultaneously, instantly feeling somewhat relieved of the horniness they felt early. he still grabs a hold of her waist, helping bounce her up and down on his shaft as he moans out sweet nothings in her ear. “oh my god, y/n, this feels so good.”

she runs her fingers through his hair, ruining the small amount of gel he had applied that morning. his own arms reached around, pulling her into his chest and having her lean against him, his head fully in her soft tits and he was finally in heaven.

he reached another one of his hands down, circling her clit with his thumb and getting closer with the thought of him inside of her. he starts to tease the small nerves, making her moan out and pull him closer against her. “holy shit, peter!”

he starts thrusting up into her, using his lower body to slam into her repeatedly. he admired the way her boobs jiggle to the action of him fucking her. the coil in his stomach only began to tighten more, knowing that his second orgasm was close. he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to contain himself and resist cumming inside her warm pussy, but luckily birth control exists.

“peter, i’m gonna cum,” she announces, feeling his thrusts get choppier inside of her. “fuck, fuck, fuck! peter!” she utters out to each of his last thrusts before feeling his own release warm inside of her. the fireworks inside of her went off, feeling the intense stream of pleasure through her nerves. her heart thumps against her chest as she comes down from the high, peters thrusts only being slow and sensual now.

“god, i’ll never get enough of you.” peter mumbles into her neck, giving it light pecks as they both relax in each others arms.

“thank you,” she says.

“for what?”

“well, first of all for that awesome sex, and second, just for being there. you didn’t have to wait for me.”

“i’m glad i did, trust me. i’ll always wait for you.” he tells her, making a cheesy beam grow on her mouth. “i love you.”

“i love you, too, peter.” she plants one last kiss to his lips before moving back to her own seat.

lil extra smth

when peter and y/n walk in together, he slightly trails behind her, noticing the lightness and excitement in her mood. she walks into the room, the fellow avengers sitting around. sam, bucky, and steve were all playing cards games at the table as nat watched over them. tony sat on the couch, reading over something about him that was released in the news paper.

they hear friday announce that y/n and peter have arrived, and they surely didn’t expect a bubbly y/n in her outfit to come waltzing in. “hi, guys!” she says, looking around and giving them a nice smile as peter walks in, too.

“what’s got her so bubbly today?”

“i got a detention today!” she says, with no apparent upset on her face. “sorry we’re later than normal.” she looks at nat next making eye contact and winking at her as she skips away to her room. peter trails behind, almost shamefully walking away from the rest of them. nat just looks at her drink smirking while it swirls in the cup, knowing exactly what’s got y/n so thrilled. she gives a certain face to everyone else, signaling what went down.

“are you kidding me?” sam complains. “you’re telling me parker got laid today and i didn’t?”

[pythoness94]

Obscure fanfic recs, the opinion piece, part three.

Alright, here's number three, As always thanks @the-aphelion-archives for the recommendations. If anybody has a fic they want me to do this too (which, as always, let's be fr you most likely don't.) let me know! And with that out of the way. Let's get into it.

“Mike Wheeler and the Laws of Motion by queer_we_are”

Opening thoughts: never read this fic before but the premise seems hella interesting. I mean, i’m ALWAYS down for math Mike, that shit has my heart and soul. Smart Mike is my favorite Mike.

Fic thoughts:

Chapter one: This, this is good food. Mike needed a second to process is everything to me and the party going “You better be supportive” but not jumping to conclusions is WONDERFUL. I love how it sets up that Mike’s life is boring and , of course, connects it to the laws of motion. We love inertia in this house. That little interaction at the end, where Will needs reassurance from Mike that he really is okay with Will being gay was beautiful. Showing that Will always needs Mike, which matches Mike’s needs perfectly because Mike needs to be needed. Mwah, good shit.

Chapter two: Mike struggling to pick up the pieces of normality has me honestly,that’s the good stuff right there. It’s beautifully characterized and just SO Mike that it feels canon. Mike is me fr, I love my routine and if multiple things throw off my routine after something REALLY big happens it feels like everything is out of balance. I usually like surprises and things like that, but after a big revelation if I can't get some normality I feel like everything gets thrown off balance and I can’t get it back. So Mike is just so real for that. He’s such a fucking mess and I relate to that so hard. Mhm, good.

Chapter three: Mike…Mike please get your head on straight. Not that your dorky ass isn’t entertaining, it is, but please. God, that Will interlude has me in a chokehold. Mike just being on autopilot and losing it while Will is just having the best week of his life. It weirdly reminds me of those “CPR/ Misery” soundbites and edits? That’s just this fic, good stuff. Also, YAYYY KISS!!

Chapter four: This last chapter was wonderful. Mike listing all the things he doesn’t know and Will saying it’s okay. Will telling Mike it’s okay if he never knows, Mhm, if that isn’t love I don’t know what is.They are so sweet, and perfect for each other. Them trading Kisses, and Mike straight up not remembering the confession is so real. (if i’m being honest, I don’t think I ever ACTUALLY confessed my love to my girlfriend until after we're dating. Like she literally walked up to me and said, “Hey, I have a crush on you, do you want to date?” and I said. “....yeah? I guess?” and that was that. So Mike is just accurate lmao.) Mhm, the descriptions? Wonderful, tasty, gimmie more.

Closing thoughts: Great fic that I recommend to anybody. I’ve written this in the previous things but both Mike and Will, (Also the party) are characterized WONDERFULLY. They are canon accurate and I adore it. Onto the next rec!

[nhasablogg]

Tickletober Day 12 - Surprise

Fandom: Young Royals

Characters: Simon/Wilhelm, Ayub

Summary: Simon tells Ayub a story.

A/N: So I tried a different narrative approach to this fic because I find it very hard to find the correct tone to write for Young Royals. I hope you like this! Tell me if you want more fics like this.

Words: 904

[Tickletober prompts]

“So how did it happen?” Ayub asked, wiggling his eyebrows at Simon who felt himself flushing.

“I’ll tell you,” he started, running a hand through his hair. “But it’s a bit of a long story.”

“Does it look like I’m in a hurry?”

“Well, okay. It was the beginning of autumn, right? The leaves had just started shifting, and campus had a golden tint to it.”

“That’s romantic.”

“Shut up. Don’t interrupt.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

“Wilhelm seemed stressed. Well, he always does. I reckon it comes with being the prince. He kept finding me as I was studying, claiming he needed me to come with him. Taking me to the woods and stuff.”

“To study?”

“No, no. I was falling behind because of him. All he wanted was to- well, you know.”

“Oh, I do.”

“So I told him I needed to concentrate for a few afternoons, so he took me to this quiet corner of the library with huge windows overlooking nothing but trees. It was beautiful. Almost too beautiful to be studying, but Wilhem kept me accountable, of all people. ‘Eyes on your books,’ he would say, grinning in a way that made me want to grab his face and kiss him. Is that pathetic?”

“A little.”

“Sometimes I did, but only briefly. We couldn’t know how alone we actually were. He kept rubbing his foot over my leg though, stopping just shy of my knee. It was highly distracting. He was definitely doing it on purpose.

“Anyway. I had that math test I told you about? I must’ve been showing my frustration, because only fifteen minutes in I felt his arm reach around me in some sort of strange side-hug. He was probably trying to give me a squeeze or something to comfort me, only I’d not expected it and recoiled with that stupid laugh I sometimes do.”

“The one when you get tickled? Oh, stop blushing, that’s not news to me.”

“Wilhelm obviously had never heard it before, and so he was concerned, thinking he’d overstepped even though we’d done more than just awkwardly hug. I guess I felt flustered about reassuring him because I straight up just told him he’d accidentally tickled my side. That was my first mistake. Stop smirking.”

“Sorry.”

“He was obviously thrilled.”

“Can’t blame him.”

“But we were in the library, albeit a pretty empty part of it. But he moved his chair closer to mine and would poke me each time I frowned, or so he claimed. ‘I didn’t know you were ticklish,’ he said, and when I tell you his grin was terrifying, I mean it. I nearly ran.”

“That would’ve been pathetic, Simon.”

“I know, so I didn’t. But he kept poking me, saying how surprising this was each time I squirmed away. That he hadn’t pegged me as this ticklish and that he was offended he’d not found out about it beforehand. It was super embarrassing.”

“I bet you blushed so beautifully.”

“Shut up, Ayub.”

“Mm, kind of like you do right now.”

“He said I better be careful next time we’re entirely alone and he could try this out properly. He was only merciless for a little bit and then let me study in peace, but it was frustrating not knowing if he would suddenly tickle me again. He noticed, because he eventually moved away enough to not be able to reach me without getting up. It was relieving, but I missed his warmth.”

“Get to the point, Simon.”

“Okay, okay. He eventually tried to tickle me again a few days later when we were at my place. I’d expected it, but was still surprised when he attacked me the moment we closed the door. I didn’t even have time to put on any music or anything. God, it was terrible, Ayub.”

“Did he tickle your neck and ribs?”

“Yes.”

“And you enjoyed it.”

“Did not.”

“Don’t lie.”

“Anyway. I obviously decided to fight back, if only on instinct. Turns out the prince is pretty ticklish himself.”

“Well, he’s human, right?”

“He made the cutest sounds, Ayub. Little high pitched whining sounds between his giggles. I nearly died right then and there. And it was surprising how easy it was to turn the tables once I’d gotten my first hit. He all but crumbled beneath my hands, curling up and begging for mercy.”

“Is that the moment you fell in love?”

“I’m not in love-”

“Keep going.”

“I guess I was tickling him a little too enthusiastically - his sides were a killer, by the way - because suddenly an elbow came swinging out of nowhere and hit me straight in the face.”

“And that’s how you got a black eye? The prince accidentally elbowed you because you were tickling him?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s both disappointing and adorable.”

“You thought I’d gotten into a fight, didn’t you?”

“Kinda.” Ayub grabbed his phone to zoom in on the month-old picture of Simon pouting into the camera, his eye bruised and somewhat swollen. “Now that I think about it it does have a royal look to it. I can’t believe I never got to see it in real life.”

“It healed pretty quickly.”

“I think that just means you’ve been hanging out with Wilhelm too much recently and don’t have time for us.” Ayub poked his side. “Better fix that, you hear me.”

Simon shoved his hand away. “I’ll get on it immediately. Let’s call Rosh.”

[made-this-cause-why-not]

Just watched Saltburn and here are my thoughts: (spoilers below)

I knew that Felix was going to die cause shit got spoiled for me on here but even then I thought that the shot with Felix in the window was dumb. I noticed it immediately (it's a bright pink shirt apposed to the gardener's grey- how would you not notice) and thought "that's dumb cause the person that saw the poet twice died, not the poet" and I still stand by that statement

Love the cinematography- the whole movie was beautifully shot

I thought it was a nice detail of having math boy yell at Oliver and for there to be no reaction from those around. It highlights how overlooked Oliver and he were by others.

Barry Keoghan- that man is so fucking fine. I don't care about the dancing at the end, I don't care about the fucking vampire oral bit- no the shit that got me hot and bothered was when he woke up after the party and it was that slow shot from his leg up to his face- I was going fucking feral. Idk how his hair was styled or glasses or no glasses, that man is so fine, I am on my hands and knees, begging

I like how he immediately discredited Farleigh with the Venetia thing, and also got into Elspeth's head through talking shit about "Poor Dear Pamela"- not that it was hard to get into that any of their heads to begin with

I thought that Oliver's 'dirt' on Farleigh would be catching him blowing that one footman at the breakfast table, as a call back to earlier in the movie

I understand he already has the estate but Oliver didn't need to pull the breathing tube out of her, he could have just un hooked the two tubes, and waited for her to stop breathing. Now it others know it was him.

I had a feeling the shit was poisoned but when Oliver took the bottle back I thought I saw him drink from it and was like "fuck- guess he didn't poison it"

The bath and the grave- Oliver was so fucking desperate and I loved that for him

I realized when we saw Oliver's family that the dad's stone landing in the muck was a sign that Oliver's dad wasn't really dead- very nice easter egg

The stones on top of the freaky fucking music box- I cackled'

Barry wears alot of blue- idk what that means but I just noticed it

[phdmama]

Helloooo! 🪄, 💞 and 🌿 if you fancy it for real fic writer asks!

ooo thank you!! xox

🪄what is your post-writing/sharing aftercare? How do you take care of yourself or celebrate yourself when you've finished a fic?

I don't do it well, honestly. I like to drop a thing, post the tumblr post and then disappear for a bit while simultaneously obsessively checking to see if anyone noticed! Which honestly doesn't feel... great. I tend to immediately jump to "okay what's next" and not spend time with the moment? I do need to give my stuff a bit of time before I can go back and reread it (and spot every typo I missed uggh) but I do like to reread my stuff!

💞what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language

I think it's the overall cohesiveness that is really important to me. I can accept lots and lots of different worlds, but they have to make sense. People have to act in a way that I think real human beings would act (and I can imagine lots of possibilities for that) and I don't want to write characters who don't behave realistically. I've tried to loosen up a bit and let myself play a bit more, but yeah. Fundamentally, I like things to make sense.

Plot really matters to me, I guess is what I'm saying!

Language also really matters to me, like a LOT. The kind of voice I tend to love (and strive for) is one that's fairly plain, perhaps a bit dry but funny (I love reading/writing things that make you laugh), and I work really hard on word choices. Words mean things and I want always to use them accurately. @julcheninred. is amazing for that! Grammar also matters to me though I am less intense about it than words.

Character development also matters? Again, I like people to make sense!

🌿how does creating make you feel?

I know I've talked about this before, but it's really really powerful for me. Growing up, I never considered myself genuinely CREATIVE because I played music other people wrote but didn't write my own. I took photographs of things that already existed. I created things from other people's patterns. Acted other people's scripts. I did write (poetry mostly) but my older sister was the "writer" (we divided it up I guess? I was the math and science kid) and I never felt like I could venture out there. And then I didn't write creatively for a really long time.

Finding a community. Finding a voice. Finding stories inside of me that I wanted to tell. These things matter so much to me. I've created over a million words on Ao3. It's changed me, beautifully and irrevocably.

It feels amazing.

Let's Get ((REAL)) fic writer asks

[kellerkuschelassel]

Tag Game: 15 Questions and 15 Mutuals

Thank you for tagging me @obrienpolycule!

Were you named after anyone? - Not intentionally I don't think, but my name is biblical so I guess I'm named after Moses' sister.

When was the last time you cried? - Last week because I got frustrated.

Do you have kids? - No.

Do you use sarcasm a lot? - Not a lot, and mostly at work.

What's the first thing you notice about people - This is gonna sound real corny, but their smile, or whether they smile at all.

What's your eye color? - Hazel.

Scary movies or happy endings? - I only enjoy either when they are well written. Generally though I tend to go for movies with a (semi-)happy ending, whatever the genre. Unhappy endings are just rough.

Any special talents? - Peeling oranges beautifully AND efficiently.

Where were you born? - Southern Germany.

What are your hobbies? - Drawing, playing tabletop/videogames, singing, watching YouTube.

Have any pets? - Yes. We have a cat and his name is Mikesch. He's a shining star. :3

What sports do you play/have you played? - Both did ballet (– but like, little kid ballet. We made imaginary pizzas on each other's backs at the end of each lesson) and tae kwon do. Still do go on the occasional kayaking trip with friends and family.

How tall are you? - ID says 161 cm, that's about 5'3".

Favorite subject in school? - Math, art, and choir practice.

Dream job? - Anything with chill colleagues, that you can do part-time and doesn't require you to sit and come up with coherent texts all day.

Tagging @aldi-spice @deltastorm101 @ennoying @holy-moth @honigsenfsymbiont @mixology-maven @starcovered-wolfpelt @teerayus @that-gender-bender to participate at will.

[renee-writer]

PLEASE READ ❤️

The Black Telephone

Those of us old enough to remember when the phone was wired to the wall, usually in the kitchen, can relate to this story. I loved this read.

When I was a young boy, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember the polished, old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box.. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother talked to it.

Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was "Information Please" and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anyone's number and the correct time.

My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy. I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway.

The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. "Information, please," I said into the mouthpiece just above my head.

A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear. "Information."

"I hurt my finger..." I wailed into the phone, the tears came readily enough now that I had an audience..

"Isn't your mother home?" came the question

"Nobody's home but me," I blubbered.

"Are you bleeding?" the voice asked

"No, "I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts."

"Can you open the icebox?" she asked.

I said I could.

"Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger," said the voice.

After that, I called "Information Please" for everything. I asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math.

She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.

Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called, "Information Please," and told her the sad story. She listened, and then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not consoled. I asked her, "Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?"

She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, " Wayne , always remember that there are other worlds to sing in." Somehow I felt better.

Another day I was on the telephone, "Information Please."

"Information," said in the now familiar voice.

"How do I spell fix?" I asked

All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest . When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston . I missed my friend very much.

"Information Please" belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow never thought of trying the shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me. Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.

A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle . I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, "Information Please."

Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well.

"Information."

I hadn't planned this, but I heard myself saying, "Could you please tell me how to spell fix?"

There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess your finger must have healed by now."

I laughed, "So it's really you," I said. "I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?"

"I wonder," she said, "if you know how much your calls meant to me. I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls."

I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.

"Please do," she said. "Just ask for Sally."

Three months later I was back in Seattle .

A different voice answered, "Information."

I asked for Sally.

"Are you a friend?" she said.

"Yes, a very old friend," I answered.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this," She said. "Sally had been working part time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago."

Before I could hang up, she said, "Wait a minute, did you say your name was Wayne ?" "

"Yes." I answered.

Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called. Let me read it to you. The note said, "Tell him there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean."

I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.

Never underestimate the impression you may make on others. Whose life have you touched today?

[secretswiththezee]

A Lot Has Happened

Dear You,

It's been a while since I last wrote something here. It is now September of 2024. During the last few years I have felt like I lived through a whole different timeline. 

Last we spoke, your nephew was annoying AF. Guess what? he isn't anymore. He is an absolute sweetheart. He is empathetic, he is kind, he has emotions, he loves to draw and tell stories. He is in grade 1! almost grade 2!!

So much has happened since then. Let's see, when we last met, dad had a stroke and I was still working in migration. That was back in early 2020, we're towards the end of 2024 now nearly five years later. 

2020: I uprooted the whole family (mom, dad, Akik, Ovi and Eli) to a beautiful little regional town called Benalla. It's a 2.5 hour drive from the city, we moved due to the requirements of my visa and because Covid hit and both Akik and Ovi lost their jobs. I had to support everyone on my paycheck, I was not about to allow mom and dad to return to Bangladesh after dad's stroke without post-hospital care. They were with us for two years and left towards the end of 2021 (mind you they came in November of 2019). It was nice having them around.

I was able to work full time as mom looked after Eli, Ovi and Akik looked for work, we didn't force Akik to find work as we wanted him to finish his professional year smoothly. Eli had a horrible time in that house. He was almost what we call feral. He was biting, hitting, aggressive and non-verbal. The GP and specialists all said he was on the spectrum, in the middle of the pandemic, we had a wonderful speech pathologist come over and help Eli communicate. 

During this time 2020- December of 2022, I worked full time as a secondary maths and science teacher. Can you believe it? a MATH's teacher AND I taught Chemistry!! You would have been proud. I am good at maths now, it even surprises me. In 2021, you would be surprised to know that after ALL that hard work, we got our Permanent Residency.

In 2022 December, we moved back to Melbourne. By we I mean, Ovi, Eli and I. You would glad to know that our little brother got work and lived on his own for the first time from December 2022 until now. He has been getting a taste of independence and he is doing a terrific job. 

After moving to Melbourne, Eli's demeanor completely changed. He went from being a semi-verbal almost feral child to a beautifully speaking, pleasant child. He even goes to mainstream school now. His speech is a bit delayed, but he is getting there. He likes to draw, read, and do speed math. He hates writing though. 

In September of 2022, Akik got his invitation for applying for the skilled regional visa which leads to the PR. He worked his butt off to get that. After applying he finally got it in October of 2023. 

October of 2023 was a bag full of surprises. Let me tell you brother. So firstly, mom and dad were travelling to Dhaka from Cumilla when they were in a freak car accident. The car flipped three times, miraculously mom and dad weren't seriously injured. Mom did have an injury close to her spine. I was so stressed. Akik planned to go to Bangladesh, and we also decided to tag along because I couldn't stop stressing and crying. 

Upon reaching BD, we were able to introduce Eli to almost everyone. Eli really enjoyed the airplane and was overjoyed to see mom. He loves mom more than he loves me. Well so let me tell you what our sneaky parents were up to....

So for about a year or so, mom and dad have been talking to another family about Akik's marriage, not only that, Akik had also been talking to the girl. She's really nice and matches with Akik's Akikness well. Trust me, Akik is in love with her and it is soo cute. 

Anywho, our genius parents thought, this is the best time to get Akik's marriage done because we will not get Mikha, Ovi and Eli with Akik together again like this. Thus, in what was to be a 4 week trip to help those two recover, turned out to be a wedding fest. 

So our little brother, the last of the Khan's was married in November! we have a new addition to our family! and she's great.

Upon our return, I jumped back into work, Ovi and Akik did the same. We brought along with us Ovi's mom. She's been with us for a year. She's been helping with Eli.

This year 2024, something amazing happened within a few short few weeks. We (Ovi and I) passed our citizenship tests. We also purchased our very first home. There's another surprise, but I am not going to write about that here just now. 

Overall, since the last time we communicated, a LOT has happened. I cried thinking about you during each and every one of our milestones. Mom, dad and Akik also cried thinking about you, what you would do, how you would react, what you would say. We miss you big brother. We move on with life, but we will never forget you and what you meant to us. Love you to the moon and back. I hope we can see each other again one day. 

Ciao,

Zee

[dreamt-some-dreams]

Dream with Melina and it’s a good time then blends into Dreams with Virginia were I visited and there was a guy I was flirting and spending time with, came right from a fancy graduation r something, dressed very beautifully in flowing dress, flirting with him and then he asked if it was going anywhere and I said I’m not sure. Took the bus back to sf. Something about a scavenger hunt.

Then we’re at a trivia night. We have to figure out math stuff and I get it closest, just guessed it. We win and get a lot of money. As me and Lisa are leaving, we run into Hannah but she runs away. I theorize that she’s super high and wants to be alone but Lisa insists we find her. We go after her and she’s waiting up the stairs of the mall open air pavilion we’re in that leads to a field and apartments. It’s starts raining. We’re walking and talking and this middle aged man passes us. He says “nice to meet you, love to sexually assault you” I flip him off and say “fuck off I hope you die” he says “what did you say” and comes closer, grabbing me. I strangle him to death. They tell me to take his money, which he has a lot of, and run. I do

I’m in the desert on the run with a massive amount of money. I keep on gainin more from gambling and thieving. I finally meet a fortune teller who beats me in gambling, or is about to. Instead they give me a secret box to hide the money and hides me from the law. I wake up.

[kissagii]

Hi hi hi!

Congrats on 100 followers!! \(ϋ)/♩ Your stuff is so comforting to read istg- You totally deserve it.

So, for your event, I'd like to ask you for summer + cherry tree and I really liked how you wrote Kuroo, so I'll go with him.

ahhh tysm!! i was a little worried about this prompt combo but honestly it's really cute haha

kuroo + summer (strangers to lovers) + cherry (place you first met)

warnings: none it's just pure fluff <3

There was a back corner of the local library that you had informally claimed as your own. You were there almost every day, occasionally accompanied by friends or classmates, and every time the table was blissfully unoccupied.

Until, of course, it wasn't. A quick snack run meant you were fifteen minutes later than usual, and when you went to find your favorite little table, you found a somewhat familiar person sitting in the chair you always used. Though you couldn't remember his name, you knew roughly who he was - the guy from physics who sat in the very front seat and answered the teacher's questions without fail. Someone who, you realized, might be a valuable study partner.

"Can I sit here?" You asked quietly, pulling out the chair opposite his.

"Oh, sure," He says, looking up to see who decided to join him. At the sight of you he was awestruck, staring in silence as you sat down and began to arrange your things on the table.

"You alright?" You whisper, looking at him with concern.

"Yeah, just... you look familiar but I guess I've forgotten where I saw you," The young man grinned awkwardly, silently cursing himself for staring, especially at someone he had just met.

"I'm Y/n, from your physics class. I know you sit in the front table, but I can't remember your name for the life of me."

"Kuroo. And speaking of physics, can I see what your lab data looks like? I think we botched ours," The black-haired boy, Kuroo, turned his laptop to show you the various graphs from the experiment you did that morning. And, from what you could tell, it was very botched.

You spent the next hour and a half working through the lab report together. Mostly you had to selectively choose data points to make the graphs look less insane, the product of cheap motion sensors that couldn't make nice data if they tried. You quickly learned that he wasn't only smart, but friendly, and completely willing to poke fun at his own mistakes.

"And that's the last of it," You say with a sigh, typing out the last few words on your conclusion.

"Thanks for the help, you probably just saved my ass," Kuroo said with a quiet laugh.

"Say, would you want to study together again? I'm here about every day if you ever want to work through a few problems together," You placed the offer out casually, though secretly you were a bit desperate to spend more time with your classmate.

"I can do you one better - let's go get coffee on Friday. No botched physics labs, no math problems, just you and me," He shot you a cocky smirk, passing you a folded-up piece of paper as he stood up and slung his messenger bag over his shoulder.

"Yeah, that sounds... amazing," You felt a flush in your cheeks. Did he seriously just ask you out? A quick peek inside the yellow note confirmed your suspicion, the handwriting beautifully messy.

Are you C12H22O11? Because you seem pretty sweet to me.

Call me somtime : (xxx)-xxx-xxxx

Friday couldn't come soon enough.

kuroo 100% uses dumb chemistry pickup lines and you can't convince me otherwise

[catalists]

Chrome’s shadowgast fic rec list, vol 1

Well, well, well, if it isn’t the consequences of my own obsession with wizards. I might make another one of these eventually if y’all keep churning out absolute bangers, but in the meantime, here is a list of my top Shadowgast fic recs.

One rule here: I’m limiting this to one fic per author--but many people on this list have a broader oeuvre you should definitely check out.

Your disclaimer: this is not a full literature review, but rather my personal favorites. Caveat lector!

* = fic is rated M or E

sleeping in the shadow of an other self by nonwal | @nonwal

Essek has a moment to consider that gravity-based trust exercises have never worked for him, and then the spell hits. He leans back into it, falls, falls.

(In which Essek is resurrected by the Mighty Nein and framed for innocence.)

Okay, listen. If you haven’t read it yet, you’re missing out. There’s a reason it’s at the top of the list. 30k of absolutely phenomenal characterization of not only Shadowgast but all the M9 and the coolest plot to ever plot. Not only a fantastic first read, but a phenomenal re-read as well.

multitudinous echoes awoke and died in the distance by mousecookie | @ariadne-mouse

Caleb takes a step forward and stumbles.  As he catches himself he realizes something very odd.  His hands are shadowy and translucent.  His whole body is a shadow, in fact.  If he holds his palm up to the sky, he can see the stars twinkling faintly through it.

Sharp talons of panic dig into his chest.  He feels solid - if he grabs his own wrist, he has mass, but it is wrong.  Everything is wrong.  What is happening?

Prepare Fireball, commands a voice in his head.  

The voice is familiar.  

It takes him a moment to realize it’s familiar because it’s his.

An absolutely fabulous pre-relationship fic, written before the end of the show but you wouldn’t know it from how perfectly it nails the dynamic. Ariadne has written a ton of other fabulous Shadowgast fics and I encourage you to read them all--I’m just limiting this list to one fic per author to try and cover more ground.

Great Minds by bluebirdsongs

Essek uses more high-level dunamancy in battle, and Caleb tries to reverse-engineer it when he can't sleep. AKA What if we were both wizards and I cast Tether Essence on us to save your life?

This is a gorgeous fic, both for how it handles Caleb and Essek’s conversation--with profound deftness--and for the treatment of magic-as-math. A beautiful exploration of both dunamancy and Caleb and Essek.

to make a cradle of your palm* by renquise

Essek offers Caleb his spellbook, open to the page of a new spell.

As Caleb suspected, his adaptation of Essek's gravity spell was different in its conception, for all that the result was the same. The architecture of this similar spell speaks of a different thought process, a different set of basic assumptions. It is beautifully engineered, efficient in its use of components and energy: a simple spell requiring only a length of silk thread and yet capable of reaching over a great distance and causing great damage, if applied with intent to harm.

“If you would like, you can, ah. You may—" Essek gestures at his own throat, a quick, inelegant spread of fingers. "Test the application of pressure that the spell exerts."

It takes Caleb a moment to register what Essek is proposing. He is a delicate speaker, as always.

Oh man, this one just goes for the jugular (ha) in the most perfect way. The prose here, like everything renquise writes, is absolutely masterful, and the tension between Caleb and Essek is exquisitely rendered.

fist-fighting with fire just to get close to you by kaeda | @the-kaedageist

Caleb caught Essek’s eye across the dome, and Essek returned his small smile. “It would seem that it is trickier than expected to keep things on a…private channel,” Essek thought at him.

“Unfortunately,” Caleb replied.

“Unfortunately for all of us,” Fjord interjected.

(Spoilers for campaign 2, episode 138)

Kate has a fabulous gift for getting the Mighty Nein’s voices exactly right, and this fic is no exception. This takes the hive mind/telepathy of the eyes to its hilarious, heart-warming, logical conclusion and it’s an absolute joy to read.

(perhaps i may) elaborate by demonstration* by marsastronomica | @marsastronomica

After the second fight, they rest again. There’s still time left in the day, and they may as well push as far as they can. Essek and Caleb find time between action to talk. And negotiate.

This one is an absolute banger. The flirting! The tension! The incredible intense game of chicken that Essek and Caleb are playing this whole fic...it’s amazing, you can hear the dialogue in their voices, this is another one that I read and then had to tell everyone about. And now I’m telling you about. Go read it, it kicks ass.

I’ve been lost before (and I’m lost again, I guess)* by toneofjoy

Caleb has plans to take down his old coaches. Essek has secrets. They climb rocks, make new friends, explore professional boundaries, learn about consequences, and maybe even fall in love. It’s the Shadowgast climbing AU.

AUs can be a tough sell for me, but this one’s not. Half the joy in this is the fabulously vivid world that is built by the author who absolutely knows the ins and outs of competitive climbing and expertly shares it with the reader. The other half is the beautiful growing relationship between Caleb and Essek, which is a consistent joy to read. It’s still a WIP, but I promise it’s worth reading along.

the other things that make us* by saturday_sky | @saturdaysky

Essek returns, when he can, to the sanctuary of Caleb's home. The peace of it is a balm against the tedious peril of the road, which has more misery to share than Essek had ever thought. It's nice to have a place where he can lose himself: in a book, in arcane study, in the confusing allure of Caleb's smile.

It's nice. And the cats miss him, Caleb says.

[First chapter is a complete story. Second chapter will be a follow-up epilogue to it.]

This one hurts in the best possible way. I can’t highlight my favorite bits without giving it away, but the emotional beats of this absolutely beautiful post-canon fic are top-notch and the reveal of information is perfectly executed.

darkness to me is only water to the sea by treeviality

Essek knows how his story ends. There is a place in Rexxentrum where executions are carried out, wooden steps leading up to a wooden platform. There hangs a noose, swaying lightly in northern wind, while polished cobblestones shine bright in golden light.  

There will be birds, Essek imagines, and when the lever is pulled and gravity takes hold of him one last time, he hopes they take flight.

This now-AU take on Essek being arrested is lyrical and beautiful and the author has a tremendous grasp of language and also how to rip your heart straight out of your chest and then gently replace it.

---

And, if you’re still looking for fic, I have a few, but one of my favorites is:

we never do go over (we always gotta go through) by Chrome

In the last fight with the Tombtakers, Essek Thelyss bends reality to keep them all alive and pays the price. As he copes with the aftereffects of his own magic and the party takes the long journey back to the surface, Essek and Caleb finally confront what they are to each other.

or,

Five times Essek woke up with level(s) of exhaustion and one time he didn't.

[ilongfor-the-arts]

Not Now

Warnings: mentions of smut, alcohol, language

Summary: It’s Jake’s turn to take care of you after a long night.

Word Count: 4.7k

Series Mastpost

Taglist: @jakekiszkasguitarpick

“Jake. Stop. We’re gonna get caught.”

His lips were pressing against my neck, his warm body pushing me against the door frame. The sensation of Jake's lips lightly sucking my skin caused me to throw my head back against the door frame.

“No. We’re not. Don’t worry.”

In between kisses, he murmured against my skin.

I twisted my fingers through the soft strands of his hair. I didn't want him to stop. The sensation of his warm mouth applying pressure against my neck was one I thoroughly enjoyed. I ran my fingers through his hair, eliciting a soft moan from the back of his throat. Through the sensitive skin on my neck, I felt the slight vibrations of his noises. When Jake's mouth found a sweet spot, I involuntarily sighed deeply.

“Jake…”

I said in a hushed tone. He hummed with interest. As if to inquire as to why I had mentioned his name. His brown hair brushed against my neck as it was draped across my shoulder.

“We gotta get back to class.”

I swallowed thickly.

“They’re gonna notice we’re gone.”

Jake rubbed small up and down motions with his hands from my waist to my hips. He drew his face away from my neck and looked me in the eyes. The dim light emitted by the crack in the door lit his face slightly, emphasizing the right side. In this light, he looked stunning. The shadows on his left were consuming his features, while the light on his right showcased them beautifully.

“It’s exciting, isn’t it?”

He said this with a smug tone before slyly smirking at me. This secret relationship was entertaining. It was thrilling to dash to the nearest closet or his car to make out while everyone else was completely unaware. Jake hasn't touched me since that fateful night on the cliff. He hasn't gotten any closer than gripping my hips and running his hands up and down my waist. It was very sweet of him to be so considerate. It gave me a sense of security.

“Yes. While I would much rather kiss you until you passed out we still need to get to class.”

Jake rolled his eyes.

“Come on baby. We can spare a few more minutes.”

He quickly pecked my lips, then drew back and raised his brows. I pursed my lips and pretended to ponder his query. Before he even asked the question, we both knew what the answer would be.

“Sure. I guess we can stay here for a little longer.”

I huffed, pretending to be irritated. Jake wasted no time in reattaching his plush lips to mine. They felt even better now that they were slightly swollen from our previous make out session. I wrapped my arms around his neck and drew him in closer. I wished I could stay like this forever. I wanted to press his body and mouth against mine for the rest of the time. I tried not to think about the impending return to the dreary math class as I tried to enjoy the moment.

Jake dragged his hands to the front of my hips, his thumbs slipping under my shirt, just above my pants. He pulled me into him by hooking his other fingers into the loops of my jeans. When I felt his semi-hard dick pressing against my thigh, I moaned slightly. It was flattering to know I had that effect on him even when we weren't doing anything but kissing. Jake abruptly drew back, his wet plush lips now illuminated by the soft glow. He had a caring look in his eyes, which was a far cry from his lustful gaze just moments before. In confusion, I tilted my head to the side. I could tell he was thinking about something.

“What’s wrong?”

My hand cupped his face, tracing my thumb over his cheekbones. I could feel his jaw clench under my grip. Except for the sounds of kids talking a few rooms over, there was complete silence in the closet.

“Just… please know that I’m not trying to rush you. Okay? Frankly I don’t care if we ever have sex. I just wanna be with you-”

I exhaled, relieved that it wasn't anything serious. I wasn't didn’t feel rushed to do anything with Jake. He was remarkably patient. I dropped my hand to my side and cut him off before he started rambling.

“Jake, let’s talk about this later, okay? Not in the school storage closet.”

I kept my tone light, assuring him that he had nothing to be concerned about. Jake swallowed audibly.

“Okay. We can talk about it later.”

I could tell Jake was still worried about the situation. I could see the nervousness in his eyes. It broke my heart that he thought he was making me uncomfortable. I returned my hand to his face, my thumb running over his cheekbones. Jake locked his gaze on mine, staring deeply into my eyes. I gave him a warm smile.

“Jake. The only time I ever feel like I belong is when I’m with you.”

Jake scoffed through a closed mouth, a large grin on his face.

“Well... That got oddly sentimental.”

I rolled my eyes and smacked him playfully on the arm.

“Hey! I’m trying to confess my feelings here!”

I said sarcastically, Jake laughed before pressing his lips against mine for the third time in the past ten minutes. My palms were just below his jaw line, with my fingers splayed out onto his jaw. Jake wrapped his arms around my waist and drew me into him, swaying slightly. We shared a quick kiss before pulling back at the same time.

“We should probably go Y/N.”

I motioned towards the door with my head.

“You first. You left the classroom first. I’ll wait a minute.”

We were still clinging to each other, not wanting to be the first to let go. I wanted to hold him against me until the end of the school day. I wanted to feel his lips against mine and give him permission to freely roam my body with his hands. Unfortunately, that was not an option. Jake groaned.

“I know I’ll see you in a few hours but I’ll still miss you.”

I leaned my head against his chest, hearing the steady beat of his heart through his flannel.

“I’ll miss you too Jakey.”

Jake exhaled, releasing his grip on my waist. Once he was out of my arms, I felt an immediate sense of emptiness. He gave me a small smile and wave before disappearing behind the closed door.

I waited in near-complete darkness and silence. We'd been keeping this secret for a few weeks. The weather was getting cooler, and things were looking up. I had never felt happier in my life. Since the beginning of this relationship, the only place I've wanted to be is in Jake's arms.

With our new romance blossoming, more thoughts about future events occupied my every thought. I desired Jake. I wanted him more than any other guy I'd ever met in my life. I wasn't nervous, but I was. It wasn't because of Jake; I knew that if it happened with Jake, my first time would be incredible. Fear was present simply because, well, it’s my first time.

I had waited long enough. I stepped out into the brightly lit hallway, flinching at first due to the dramatic change in brightness.

I dragged my feet back to math class, already dreading having to sit through my teacher go on and on about a formula we'd never use in our lives.

“Miss Y/N. What on earth took you so long?”

I paid no attention to her annoyed tone. I shrugged nonchalantly.

“Sorry.”

“Just take a seat.”

She demanded. I complied, finding a seat next to Jake and settling in. Jake was conversing with a friend on the other side of him. I leaned back and stared at the ceiling. I wished to return home. I wanted to drag Jake into my room so we could have a makeout session on my bed with him on top of me. I closed my eyes and let my mind wander for the remainder of class.

The rest of the day was agonizing. Every time I looked at the clock, only two minutes had passed. That cycle was repeated throughout the day. I'd check the time, groan, check the time again, wish I was somewhere else, check the time. Until, at long last, the bell rang.

Jake and I had a routine that we stuck to almost every day. We'd meet at my house after school, driving in separate cars to avoid drawing suspicion.

As I drove back to my house, my hands were trembling and my palms were sweating on the steering wheel. It was almost unbearable how much I wanted to see Jake again. The most painful aspect of having a secret relationship was acting as if nothing was going on when we were in public. Jake and I pretended to be friends. We talked casually in math class or in the hallways, but never in a way that would lead people to believe we were more than friends. I hoped it wouldn't stay that way forever.

Jake and I took different routes back to my house every time. Normally, I would be the first to arrive. I was surprised to see Jake's car parked in my driveway today. I situated my car behind Jake's and climbed out of the driver's seat. My parents worked until nearly seven o'clock every night, which allowed us to spend a lot of time together after school. I practically skipped up to my front door and twisted the knob until the door swung open on its slightly creaky hinges. Jake was waiting for me on my couch, while some random television show played in the background.

“Hey Y/N.”

I took a seat next to him, draping my legs over his lap. I immediately felt comforted now that I was with Jake.

“Hey Jake.”

Jake placed a loving hand on my knee.

“I have an idea for something fun to do tomorrow night.”

I reached for a pillow that had been thrown to the floor. I tucked it under my head and relaxed onto it.

“What do you have in mind?”

“My buddy is throwing a party at his house. He’s filthy rich so he's got a giant house with a pool and everything.”

With two fingers, I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“Jake. Do I need to remind you of what happened last time you went to a party where there was alcohol?”

Jake rolled his eyes.

“That was different.”

“How so?”

I questioned, opening my eyes to meet his gaze. Jake swallowed quietly.

“Different situations, different people.”

He spoke in monotone.

“So.”

He playfully slapped my knee.

“Do you wanna go?”

My lips were pursed. Jake noticed my hesitant demeanor.

“What’s wrong?”

“Well. I’m just a little worried. I mean,”

I slid my legs off his lap and sat next to him with my legs crossed in front of me.

“Aren’t we supposed to be pretending like we’re not dating. I think going to a party together would certainly rouse some unwanted suspicion.”

Jake shrugged, his arms crossed over his chest.

“The invitation is open to everyone. We don’t have to look like we came together.”

I clenched my jaw and hissed with hesitancy through my teeth.

“I don’t know Jake… I just… don’t think I would have a lot of fun.”

Jake gently squeezed one of my hands, which was resting in my lap.

“We don’t have to go for long. I really just wanna introduce you to some of my friends. They’ve been asking who you are.”

Sighing deeply, I intertwined my fingers with his.

“Jake. Let’s not push it, okay? Just tell them I’m a friend. Go to the party with your girlfriend and have fun. It’ll be a nice reassuring gesture since you hardly hang out with her anymore thanks to me.”

Jake shifted his weight to face me. One of his legs was under him, the other dangling off the side of the couch.

“Don’t worry about my girlfriend. She’ll believe anything I tell her. Let’s just act like it was a total coincidence that we saw each other. People won’t think anything of it.”

Jake stared into my eyes with a pleading expression. I sighed heavily.

“Jake. I don’t understand why you can’t just break up with her. I mean, sneaking around with you is super fun and exciting, don’t get me wrong. I just wish-”

“I’ll break up with her soon.”

Jake interrupted me.

“I just… need some time.”

“Jake you said weeks ago-”

“I know. Don't worry, okay? I’ve got it under control.”

His tone became firm. I made the decision not to push him any further. My gaze was drawn to our clasped hands in my lap. I stared into my lap, still unsure. I returned the conversation to its original topic.

“I don’t know Jake.”

I had no desire to test the boundaries. Jake made a phony pouty face at me. Almost instantly, the mood in the room shifted. It transformed from thoughtful to playful in a matter of seconds.

“Come on Y/N. Do you know how many parties I’ve missed in the past few weeks so I could be with you?”

He begs, sarcastically. I sighed and rolled my eyes.

“You were the one who insisted on not going. Don’t even try to guilt trip me, mister.”

Jake raised hands in defense.

“You’re right. That was a bad argument.”

Jake had skipped a number of parties. I tried to persuade him to go, but he always insisted he'd rather be with me. I reasoned it was only fair to grant his request this once.

“Alright I’ll go.”

Jake leaned in, pecking me on the lips.

“Thank you. We’ll be totally fine. No one will suspect anything.”

I smiled.

“Alright. I believe you.”

I pointed a finger at his chest.

“But don’t call me if you’re the one wasted, okay? Unless all other options fail because I was really looking forward to catching up on my sleep Friday. I don’t need you calling me at one a.m. unless it’s an emergency.”

Jake swatted my hand away from him gently.

“Okay, okay. I got it. No calling you unless it’s an emergency.”

I cupped his face in my hand and smiled half-heartedly.

“Yes please. That would be greatly appreciated.”

His gaze shifted from my eyes to my mouth as he grinned. I pressed my lips against his, this time more firmly. So began our afternoon's first makeout session.

I rummaged through my closet, looking for something to wear. I needed something simple but appealing. Jake had arrived at the party an hour before. I chose to wait for a long period of time in order to make it appear less suspicious. My attention was caught by the white dress I'd worn the first time I met Jake. That seemed like a lifetime ago.

I took the hanger from the shelf and held it out in front of me. Thankfully, I was able to remove the entire stain from the front after the incident. This was perfect.

I quickly changed, staring in the mirror at myself. I looked exactly the same as I did on that fateful day several weeks ago. Wearing this dress made me happy. It was associated with pleasant memories.

Jake had sent me the location of the party earlier in the day. Kathryn had no idea what I was up to tonight. She had inquired about my weekend plans, to which I replied that I had none. It made me feel uneasy to lie to her, but I knew she'd see right through our act if she saw Jake and me together.

Jake was correct; this house was enormous. Except for a few black hanging lamps on the front porch, it was completely white. The top balcony was supported by thick poles that looked like they came from a Roman colosseum. The front doors were flanked by four massive windows, two on each side. dozens of people were huddled in small groups on the immaculately manicured front lawn. This party was a whirlwind of activity.

Because of the insane number of cars on the host's street, I parked my car across the street. The walk was short and brisk, with the cool breeze brushing against my skin. I had to push my way past people until I reached the front of the house's large french doors. I confidently pushed them open, as if I wasn't nervous about being at a party with so many people.

I searched the house thoroughly for Jake. I eventually tracked him down in the kitchen, where he was conversing with a few people.

“Jake!”

Waving my arms above my head, I yelled from across the room. My words were slightly muffled by the combined sounds of people talking, but my voice was still audible. Jake turned around and stared straight at me. He returned my wave, his eyes admiring the dress. I knew he would like it.

I took that as an invitation to approach him.

“Hey Jake! I didn’t know you were coming!”

I kept a safe distance between us.

“Same! I had no idea you were coming!”

Jake extended his free hand towards me, a drink was occupying the other.

“Let me introduce you to my friends.”

He returned his hand to its original position, which was gripping the marble island he was leaning on.

“This is Nate.”

He extended his occupied hand to a man in front of him, slightly shorter than him, with short brown hair and a flannel. Nate gave me a small, awkward wave.

“And that’s Evan.”

Evan had taken a seat on one of the counters. He wore a short sleeve shirt with jeans and had dark curly hair. He waved with far more assurance than Nate.

“Guys, this is Y/N. She’s the friend you guys have been asking about.”

It pained my heart to hear him use the word “friend” when he was on top of me, kissing me passionately only hours before. I dismissed my thoughts, the girlfriend title would come soon enough.

They both said "hey" simultaneously. Despite speaking at the same moment, I could distinguish the different tones in their voices. Nate spoke in a slightly hushed but clear tone. Evan's voice was raspier and deeper. It cut through the air much more easily than Nate’s.

I gave them a friendly nod and said hello, leaning back on the island.

“Do you want a drink?”

Jake asked. I turned my head to face him.

“Sure. Get me whatever, I’m not picky.”

While Jake was busy getting me a drink, I chatted with his friends. Evan and Nate are good friends because they're both on the same baseball team. They both play the guitar, but Evan is an excellent saxophonist. Before Jake returned with my drink, that was about the extent of our conversation.

“Thanks Jake.”

Jake handed me a cup full of liquid. I’m not sure what he made me, but whatever it was, it was great. I talked with Jake and his friends, drank, danced for a little, drank, wandered off, drank, danced, drank, danced, drank. Until I'd consumed an unknown number of drinks. I'm not sure why I didn't stop sooner. The party's atmosphere was simply enticing. I was only interested in drinking and dancing.

I couldn’t walk straight. I stumbled around blindly with a cloudy mind. Nothing made sense, but I didn’t care. The only thing on my mind was taking another drink.

“Y/N. I think you’ve had enough.”

Jake put his hand over mine to stop me from pouring myself yet another drink.

“No. No I haven’t. This is only like my…my…”

My speech became slurred at the end of my sentence. Jake removed the vodka bottle from my firm grasp and set it back on the kitchen counter.

“I need to get you home.”

Jake supported my swaying legs by slinging my arm over his shoulder. Before Evan called his name, Jake carried me to the front door.

“Hey Jake, where are you going man!? The party’s just getting started!”

Jake turned to face Evan, who stood on the opposite side of him.

“I gotta get Y/N home. She can hardly walk.”

Before returning his gaze to Jake, Evan looked at my half-closed eyes and slouched posture.

“How many have you had? I don’t want you driving drunk man.”

“I had a few earlier, but that was almost two hours ago. I stopped when I saw her down her second one in under ten minutes. Don’t worry, I’m good.”

Evan wasn't even close to being inebriated. He was still standing and speaking normally, not even slightly slurring his words. I didn't see him drink the entire night, to be honest.

Evan leaned in close to Jake and whispered something to him. Jake shook his head angrily in response to whatever Evan said.

“I’d never do that.”

Evan shrugged with pursed lips.

“Alright man. Drive safe.”

My knees gave out unexpectedly. Jake hoisted me back up onto my feet before I fell completely collapsed to the floor.

“Thanks. Bye Evan.”

Evan said goodbye to both of us with a wave.

“Bye you guys.”

As a silent way of saying goodbye, I smiled unevenly and nodded slightly in Evan’s general direction.

Jake practically dragged me out onto the front porch. My legs just weren’t cooperating.

“Alright. Enough of this.”

Jake knelt down, one arm around my knees and the other behind my back. He carried me to his car in bridal fashion after drawing me into his arms. My head was leaning against his chest, his steady heartbeat nearly lulled me to sleep. His powerful arms carrying me gave me a sense of security.

Jake opened his passenger door and gently lowered me into the seat, fastening my seatbelt for me. He walked around to the drivers side and slid into the seat beside me. He started the car and drove toward my house.

“Jake…”

I said with slurred speech as we drove.

“Yes?”

I swung my head around until I was facing Jake.

“When are you gonna fuck me?”

Jake seemed completely unfazed.

“Well… not now that’s for sure.”

I groaned in annoyance.

“Why not? We could just do it in your car.”

I laughed at my own suggestion.

“I think that’d be pretty fun.”

I rolled my head over to the other side, leaning it against the window.

“No. We’re not gonna do it in my car. Not the first time anyway.”

I groaned even louder this time.

“Well then let’s do it in my bed.”

“Nope. Not tonight.”

Jake rounded a corner, causing me to slightly shift to the left.

“We should fuck already. I bet you have a really big dick.”

I giggled drunkenly again. Jake scoffed.

“I’m flattered.”

He said sarcastically, his eyes remaining focused on the road. We pulled into the driveway of my house. Jake unbuckled his seatbelt and opened his door.

“Alright Y/N. We’re here.”

“Already?”

I asked the empty car. He made his way to the other side of the car, opening the door for me and undoing my seatbelt.

“Come on. Let’s get you to bed.”

Jake wrapped his arm around both of my knees, and I reached down to firmly grasp his shoulder. Once I was in his arms, he slipped a hand behind my back. He carefully carried me all the way up to my front door.

As he carried me to my room, I murmured nothingingness against his chest. He gingerly positioned me on the bed in a sitting position before searching through my drawers. He plucked a random shirt from my top drawer and handed it to me.

“I assume you don’t want to sleep in that. You should get changed. I’ll leave you alone for a second.”

I snatched the shirt from his grasp and placed it in my lap.

“I wouldn’t mind if you stuck around.”

Before giggling again, I tucked my bottom lip under my top teeth. Jake scoffed, his hands resting on his hips.

“Just get changed, alright? I’ll be back in a minute.”

Jake walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. I stood up, almost toppling over. For support, I grabbed the side of my dresser. I threw the dress over my head and onto the floor. It took me a few seconds to figure out how to differentiate between the different holes on the shirt, but I managed after a few moments of confusion. The shirt went down to the middle of my thighs, covering me almost completely.

Jake knocked on the door.

“You ready?”

“Yeah.”

Jake pushed open the door a crack, peering into my room to make sure I was dressed. When he saw me clutching the dresser in fear of falling over, he entered my room.

Jake grabbed my waist and sat me back down on my bed, the springs buckling under the sudden weight.

He stood in front of me, staring down. He cupped one of his large hands around my face and ran his thumb under my eye.

“Your makeup is a mess. Do you want me to take it off?”

I nodded messily due to the lax state of my neck.

“Alright. I’ll be right back.”

Jake traveled to my bathroom. I could hear the sound of running water while I struggled to stay upright. Jake reappeared a few moments later, carrying a damp washcloth. He knelt in front of me, wiping away my smudged mascara with a cloth. I hummed in delight as he pressed the warm rag against my skin.

“I could suck your dick right now if you wanted.”

My speech was slightly less slurred now that I had gone a little without a drink, but I was still very much drunk.

“Nope. I’m alright.”

Jake said matter of factly.

“There we go. You’re all good now.”

He stood up to his full height. I threw my head back and reached a hand out to aggressively grab his belt buckle.

“Please Jake. I need you inside me.”

I began to undo it, but due to my drunken state and shaky hands, I didn’t get far before Jake took hold of my wrist and yanked it from his belt.

“Not now. You need to sleep first.”

I complained loudly.

“Will you please fuck me when I wake up?”

I pleaded. Jake placed his hands on my shoulders and pushed me onto the bed. I fell back instantly.

“Sure. Just go to bed now, okay?”

My covers were still bundled up at the bottom of my bed because I hadn't made my bed the night before. He drew them up to my chin before kissing me lightly on the forehead.

“See you tomorrow Y/N.”

“Jake?”

I asked.

“Yeah?”

“Will you sleep with me?”

Jake smiled kindly.

“Of course.”

Jake unlaced his boots and kicked them off. He crawled over to the other side of me, under the covers, his arm immediately finding my waist. He pressed his body against mine. I could feel the warmth radiating off of his body. I hummed in contentment. I was still drunk, so I didn’t have any thoughts except those of pure happiness.

“Jake?”

“Yes?”

“I like this.”

Jake chuckled.

“I like this too.”

He agreed. There was a brief moment of silence.

“Jake?”

“Yes?”

“Have I ever told you I have a really big crush on you?”

While speaking, my eyes were closed and I was floating away to the land of sleep.

“Yes you have. Have I ever told you I have a really big crush on you too?”

I didn’t answer. I was already asleep by the time he finished his question.

[that80sslytherinwrites]

Missing Sketchbook, Please Return to Artist (Neil Perry x fem!reader)

requested by @i-am-lost-and-need-a-map

Welton was pretty quiet once classes were done for the day, at least it was quiet in the school where the classrooms were as all the boys were either studying or goofing off with their friends outside.

  The dead poets trailed after Neil as he went down the empty and quiet halls in search of Mr. Keating. They rounded the corner and Neil knocked on Mr. Keating’s classroom door. They didn’t get a response, but the door wasn’t full closed, and it swung open at the force of Neil’s knocking.

  Neil poked his head through the opening of the door. “Mr. Keating?”

No response.

  “Mr. Keating?” Neil called again, slowly opening the door farther and stepping inside the classroom.

  “I don’t think he’s here, Neil,” Meeks said.

  Neil walked into the classroom, through to Keating’s office. The door was shut, and Neil rapped on it, which elicited no response. He tried the handle, only to find it locked.

  “What do you have to talk to Mr. Keating about so urgently anyway?” Cameron asked and sat down at one of the desks.

  Neil shrugged. “Nothing.” He wandered back down the aisle between the desks, heading for the door when he spotted a book flopped open on the floor of the classroom, nearly hidden from sight. He bent down to retrieve the book, flattening the pages back to their original state.

  “What’s that?” Todd asked.

  Neil shrugged. “I just found it on the floor. It looks as though someone dropped it without noticing.” He flipped open the cover in search of a name. Instead of a name he found intricate and beautiful sketches of himself and his friend on the first page. Curiosity getting the better of him, Neil flipped the pages of the book, inspecting the several sketches of him and his friend, but mostly him he noticed.

  “Woah,” those a really good,” Meeks commented, poking his head around Neil’s shoulder to look.

  Neil placed the book on top of a desk, and they crowded around it as he flipped through the pages.

“That’s kind of creepy,” Pitts stated. “Whose sketchbook, is it?”

“I don’t know,” Neil said. “There’s no name in here. It just says ‘if lost please return to artist’.”

“What’s written next to the pictures?” Charlie asked.

  Neil inspected the swoopy lines next to a picture of Todd. “It’s poetry.”

“Original?” Knox asked.

  He shook his head. “No, this one’s Shakespeare. I guess it’s just whomever drew these felt fit the pictures.”

Knox flipped the page of the sketchbook to a page covered in sketches of Neil wearing his glasses, lines of poetry were scrawled between the photos. He leaned in further to read them. “These are all love poems.” He looked at Neil and smiled. “Looks like you’ve got a secret admirer.”

  Before Neil could respond they heard voices in the hall.

  “We should go,” Cameron said.

  The boys agreed and shut the sketchbook. Neil felt only a minor burst of a conscience to leave the sketchbook in the room where they found but as Pitts called that the hall was clear, and they sprinted out of Mr. Keating’s classroom he tucked it under his arm and shut the door behind him.

After dinner, the dead poets crowded into Neil and Todd’s room where they saw the sketchbook sitting on Neil’s bed.

  “You took it?” Cameron exclaimed. “Now they’re going to know that someone was in there.”

“Relax Cameron,” Charlie said. “A. no one will know it was us and B. it was on the floor, whoever forgot it probably doesn’t even know where they left it.”

Neil opened the book again to a page with a picture of himself drawn beautifully in the centre and surrounded by flowers and lines of romantic poetry. “Don’t you want to know who drew all of these?”

“You only want to know because whomever it is, is completely head over heels in love with you,” Charlie stated and flopped onto Todd’s bed.

  “I want to give it back to them,” Neil corrected.

  “Sure,” Meeks said and gave Neil and wink.

  “I’m sure they’re looking for it,” he argued. “If it were mine, I would want it back.”

For a week it was nothing but teasing as Neil searched desperately for the owner of the sketchbook. Neil had tried matching the handwriting with no avail, and then he began checking the art classes, he even asked Knox to ask Chris if she knew anyone who could draw well. She couldn’t come up with anyone that she knew had as good of skills os the one sin the sketchbook.

  “Still carrying it around I see,” Charlie said as Neil walked into the study room where the rest of them were procrastinating their math homework as Cameron slowly became more and more frustrated that they couldn’t understand this one problem.

  “Maybe you should just put it back where you found it,” Todd suggested. “Wouldn’t this person be looking everywhere they’d been recently to find their sketchbook?”

“Probably,” Pitts said.

  Neil sat down at their table and placed the sketchbook on top of it. “Maybe I should put it back.”

“But?” Charlie prompted.

  “But these drawings are really good, and I just want to meet whoever drew them,” Neil said.

  “Well, while you’re deciding on what to do, can you take a look at this question?” Cameron slid the textbook towards Neil.

  Neil glanced down at the problem before shaking his head and reaching for the sketchbook again. “I’m going to go put this back. Maybe if Mr. Keating is there, he knows whose it is.”

“Won’t he just then know we were snooping around his classroom without him there?” Cameron asked.

  “Mr. Keating probably won’t care,” Meeks stated. “And I figured the question out.”

Cameron’s attention was immediately diverted to math as Meeks showed him the solution.

  “Do you want me to go with you?” Todd asked.

  Neil shook his head. “I’ll be back soon anyway. Mr. Keating probably won’t even be there, and I’ll just put it on his desk.”

Neil left the room and wandered down the near empty corridors of Welton until he reached Mr. Keating’s classroom. The door was once again unlocked, and Neil stepped inside. It was dark in the room except for the fading sunlight streaming through the windows.

  Neil called out for Mr. Keating but received no response. Just as he suspected Mr. Keating wasn’t there. He walked up to the front of the classroom and placed the sketchbook on the desk just as the door of Mr. Keating’s office opened. He looked up and saw a girl standing in the open doorway.

  She glanced down at his hand that was still holding the corner of her sketchbook. “You found it,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “This is yours?”

She nodded.

  Neil picked the book back up and held it out to her. She grabbed the book hurriedly and tucked it up against her chest.

  “You’re really talented,” Neil said.

  “Thanks,” she muttered.

  “Can I ask when you drew all of those? Those ones of my friends and I?” She blinked widely at him. “I sometimes sit on the lawn by the trees where you never notice me and draw you guys as you study outside. I hope you don’t mind. I just find it’s best to work with real—”

“It’s fine,” Neil interrupted her rambling. “I really like them.”

They fell into a bout of silence as they stared at each other.

  “The poems,” Neil started. “Are they a reflection of your feelings or are they just things you like?”

“Both,” she replied.

  “What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“I’m Neil.” He held out his hand for her to shake it.

  She shook his hand, her fingers cold against his warm ones.

“How come you’re here inside Welton?”

“Mr. Keating is my uncle,” she answered.

  “Oh, so that’s why we found your sketchbook in here,” he said.

  “I have to go,” y/n said. “They don’t want me spending a lot of time in here.” She walked past Neil, towards the door to the classroom.

  “Wait.” Neil ran after her, meeting her at the door where she had stopped for him. “Can I see you again?”

She nodded, her lips slowly creeping into a shy smile. 

  “This weekend?” he asked.

  She nodded again. “I’ll leave the address with my uncle.”

Neil nodded, face hot, and watched as y/n turned and left the classroom. He let out a sharp breath of air as he left the classroom, shutting the door behind him. Only three more days until he saw her again. He barely knew her, but after studying the pages of her sketchbook for a week, he felt he did and he was looking forward to seeing her again.

[kmclaude]

Forgive me Father, I have no awful headcanons for you, only a general question on comic making. How do you do it, writing-wise/how do you decide what points go where, how do you plot it out (or do you have any resources on the writing aspect that you find useful?) Not to get too bogged down in details, but I attended a writer’s workshop and the author in residence suggested I transfer my wordy sci-fi WIP into graphic novel script, as it might work better. (I do draw, but I don’t know if I have it in me to draw a whole comic—characters in motion? Doing things? With backgrounds? How dare, why can’t everyone just stand around looking pretty)

I was interested but it quickly turned into a lot of internal screaming as I tried to figure out how to compress the hell out of it, since novels are free to do a lot more internal monologuing and such compared to a comic format (to say nothing of trying to write a script without seeing how the panels lay out—just for my own sake, I might have to do both concurrently.)

As an aside, to get a feel for graphic novels I was rereading 99RM and was reminded of how great it was—tightly plotted, intriguing, and anything to do with Ashmedai was just beautifully drawn. I need more Monsignor Tiefer and something something there are parallels between Jehan and Daniel in my head and I don’t know if they make sense but it works for me. (As an aside, I liked the emphasis on atonement being more than just the word sorry, but acknowledgment you did wrong and an attempt to remedy it—I don’t know why that spoke to me the way that it did.)

I thought Tumblr had a word count limit for asks but so far it has offered zero resistance, oh well. I don’t have much else to say but on the topic of 99RM, Adam getting under Monsignor’s skin is amazing, 10/10 (about the Pride picture earlier)

wow tumblr got rid of the markdown editor! or at least in asks which means the new editor probably has no markdown....god i hate this site! anyway...

Totally! So first, giant thank you for the compliments! Second, I have a few questions in turn for you before I dive into a sort of answer, since I can give some advice to your questions in general but it also sounds like you have a specific conundrum on your hands.

My questions to your specific situation are:

did the author give any reason for recommending a, in your words, "wordy" story be turned into a graphic novel?

is the story you're writing more, like you said, "internal monologuing"? action packed? where do the visuals come from?

do you WANT it to be a comic? furthermore, do you want it to be a comic you then must turn around and draw? or would you be interested in writing for comics as a comic writer to have your words turned into art?

With those questions in mind, let me jump into the questions you posed me!

Let me start with a confession...

I've said this before but let me say it again: Ninety-Nine Righteous Men was not originally a comic — it was a feature-length screenplay! And furthermore, it was written for a class so it got workshopped again and again to tighten the plot by a classroom of other nerds — so as kind as your compliments are, I'm giving credit where credit is due as that was not just a solo ship sailing on the sea. On top of that, it got adapted (by me) into a comic for my thesis, so my advisor also helped me make it translate or "read" well given I was director, actor, set designer, writer, editor, SFX guy, etc. all in one. And it was a huge help to have someone say "there is no way you can go blow by blow from script to comic: you need to make edits!" For instance, two scenes got compressed to simple dialogue overlaid on the splashpage of Ashmedai raping Caleb (with an insert panel of Adam and Daniel talking the next day.) What had been probably at least 5 pages became 1.

Additionally, I don't consider myself a strong plotter. That said, I found learning to write for film made the plotting process finally make some damn sense since the old plot diagram we all got taught in grammar school English never made sense as a reader and definitely made 0 sense as a writer — for me, for some reason, the breakdown of 25-50-25 (approx. 25 pages for act 1, 50 for act 2 split into 2 parts of 25 each, 25 pages for act 3) and the breaking down of the beats (the act turning points, the mid points, the low point) helped give me a structure that just "draw a mountain, rising action, climax is there, figure it out" never did. Maybe the plot diagram is visually too linear when stories have ebb and flow? I don't know. But it never clicked until screenwriting. So that's where I am coming from. YMMV.

I should also state that there's Official Ways To Write Comic Scripts to Be Drawn By An Artist (Especially If You Work For A Real Publisher As a Writer) and there's What Works For You/Your Team. I don't give a rat's ass about the former (and as an artist, I kind of hate panel by panel breakdowns like you see there) so I'm pretty much entirely writing on the latter here. I don't give a good god damn about official ways of doing anything: what works for you to get it done is what matters.

What Goes Where?

Like I said, 99RM was a screenplay so it follows, beat-wise, the 3-act screenplay structure (hell, it's probably more accurate to say it follows the act 1/act 2A/act 2B/act 3 structure.) So there was the story idea or concept that then got applied to those story beats associated with the structure, and from there came the Scene-by-scene Breakdown (or Expanded Scene Breakdown) which basically is an outline of beats broken down into individual scenes in short prose form so you get an overview of what happens, can see pacing, etc. In the resources at the end I put some links that give information on the whole story beat thing.

(As an aside: for all my short comics, I don't bother with all that, frankly. I usually have an image or a concept or a bit of writing — usually dialogue or monologue, sometimes a concrete scene — that I pick at and pick at in a little sketchbook, going back and forth between writing and thumbnail sketches of the page. Or I just go by the seat of my pants and bullshit my way through. Either or. Those in many ways are a bit more like poems, in my mind: they are images, they are snapshots, they are feelings that I'm capturing in a few panels. Think doing mental math rather than writing out geometric proofs, yanno?)

Personally, I tend to lean on dialogue as it comes easier for me (it's probably why I'm so drawn to screenwriting!) so for me, if I were to do another longform GN, I'd probably take my general "uhhhhhh I have an idea and some beats maybe so I guess this should happen this way?" outline and start breaking it down scene by scene (I tend to write down scenes or scene sketches in that "uhhhh?" outline anyway LOL) and then figure out basic dialogue and action beats — in short, I'd kind of do the work of writing a screenplay without necessarily going full screenplay format (though I did find the format gave me an idea of timing/pacing, as 1 page of formatted script is about equal to 1 minute of screentime, and gave me room to sketch thumbnails or make edits on the large margins!) If you're not a monologue/soliloque/dialogue/speech person and more an image and description person, you may lean more into visuals and scenes that cut to each other.

Either way this of course introduces the elephant in the panel: art! How do you choose what to draw?

The answer is, well, it depends! The freedom of comics is if you can imagine it, you can make it happen. You have the freedoms (and audio limitations) of a truly silent film with none of the physical limitations. Your words can move in real time with the images or they can be a narrative related to the scene or they could be nonsequitors entirely! The better question is how do you think? Do you need all the words and action written first before you break down the visuals? Do you need a panel by panel breakdown to be happy, or can you freewheel and translate from word and general outlines to thumbnails? What suits you? I really cannot answer this because I think when it comes to what goes where with regard to art, it's a bit of "how do you process visuals" and also a bit of "who's drawing this?" — effectively, who is the interpreter for the exact thing you are writing? Is it you or someone else? If it's you, would you benefit from a barebones script alongside thumbnailed paneling? Would you be served by a barebones script, then thumbnails, then a new script that includes panel and page breakdowns? What frees you up to do what you need to do to tell your story?

If I'm being honest, I don't necessarily worry about panels or what something will look like necessarily until I'm done writing. I may have an image that I clearly state needs to happen. I may even have a sequence of panels that I want to see and I do indeed sketch that out and make note of it in my script. But exactly how things will be laid out, paneled, situated? That could change up until I've sketched my final pencils in CSP (but I am writer and artist so admittedly I get that luxury.)

How do I compress from novel to comic?

Honest answer? You don't. Not really. You adapt from one to another. It's more a translation. Something that would take forever to write may take 1 page in a comic or may take a whole issue.

I'm going to pick on Victor Hugo. Victor Hugo spent a whole-ass book in Notre-Dame de Paris talking about a bird's eye view of Paris and other medieval architecture boring stuff, with I guess some foreshadowing with Montfaucon. Who cares. Not me. I like story. Anyway. When we translate that book to a movie any of the billion times someone's done that, we don't spend a billion years talking at length about medieval Paris. There's no great monologuing about the gibbet or whatever: you get to have some establishing shots, maybe a musical number, and then you move tf on. Because it's a movie, right? Your visuals are right there. We can see medieval Paris. We can see the cathedral. We can see the gibbet. We don't need a whole book: it's visually right there. Same with a comic: you may need many paragraphs to describe, say, a space station off of Sirius and one panel to show it.

On the flip side, you may take one line, maybe two, to say a character keyed in the special code to activate the holodeck; depending on the visual pacing, that could be a whole page of panels (are we trying to stretch time? slow it down? what are we emphasizing?) A character gives a sigh of relief — one line of text, yeah? That could be a frozen panel while a conversation continues on or that could be two (or more!) panels, similar to the direction [a beat] in screenwriting.

Sorry there's not a super easy answer there to the question of compression: it's a lot more of a tug, a push-pull, that depends on what you're conveying.

So Do I Have It In Me to Write & Draw a GN?

The only way you'll know is by doing. Scary, right? The thing is, you don't necessarily need to be an animation king or God's gift to background artists to draw a comic.

Hell, I hate backgrounds. I still remember sitting across from my friend who said "Claude you really need to draw an establishing exterior of the church at some point" and me being like "why do you hate me specifically" because drawing architecture? Again? I already drew the interior of the church altar ONCE, that should be enough, right? But I did draw an exterior of the church. Sorta. More like the top steeple. Enough to suggest what I needed to suggest to give the audience a better sense of place without me absolutely losing my gourd trying to render something out of my wheelhouse at the time.

And that's kinda the ticket, I think. Not everyone's a master draftsman. Not everyone has all the skills in every area. And regardless, from page one to page one hundred, your skills will improve. That's all part of it — and in the meantime, you should lean into your strengths and cheat where you can.

Do you need to lovingly render a background every single panel? Christ no! Does every little detail need to be drawn out? Sure if you want your hand to fall off. Cheat! Use Sketchup to build models! Use Blender to sculpt forms to paint over! Use CSP Assets for prebuilt models and brushes if you use CSP! Take photographs and manip them! Cheat! Do what you need to do to convey what you need to convey!

For instance, a tip/axiom/"rule" I've seen is one establishing shot per scene minimum and a corollary to that has been include a background once per page minimum as grounding (no we cannot all have eternal floating heads and characters in the void. Unless your comic is set in the void. In which case, you do you.) People ain't out here drawing hyper detailed backgrounds per each tiny panel. The people who DO do that are insane. Or stupid. Or both. Or have no deadline? Either way, someone's gonna have a repetitive stress injury... Save yourself the pain and the headache. Take shortcuts. Save your punches for the big K.O. moments.

Start small. Make an 8-page zine. Tell a beginning, a middle, an end in comic form. Bring a scene to life in a few pages. See what you're comfortable drawing and where you struggle. See where you can lean heavily into your comfort zones. Learn how to lean out of your comfort zone. Learn when it's worth it to do the latter.

Or start large. Technically my first finished comic (that wasn't "a dumb pencil thing I drew in elementary school" or "that 13 volume manga I outlined and only penciled, what, 7 pages of in sixth grade" or "random one page things I draw about my characters on throw up on the interwebz") was 99RM so what do I know. I'm just some guy on the internet.

(That's not self-deprecating, I literally am some guy on the internet talking about my path. A lot of this is gonna come down to you and what vibes with you.)

Resources on writing

Some of these are things that help me and some are things that I crowd-sourced from others. Some of these are going to be screenwriting based, some will be comic based.

Making Comics by Scott McCloud: I think everyone recommends this but I think it is a useful book if you're like "ahh!!! christ!! where do I start!!!???" It very much breaks down the elements of comics and the world they exist in and the principles involved, with the caveat that there are no rules! In fact, I need to re-read it.

Comic Book Design: I picked this up at B&N on a whim and in terms of just getting a bird's eye view of varied ways to tackle layout and paneling? It's such a great resource and reference! I personally recommend it as a way to really get a feel for what can be done.

the screenwriter's bible: this is a book that was used in my class. we also used another book that's escaping me but to be honest, I never read anything in school and that's why I'm so stupid. anyway, I'd say check it out if you want, especially if you start googling screenwriting stuff and it's like 20 billion pieces of advice that make 0 sense -- get the core advice from one place and then go from there.

Drawing Words & Writing Pictures: many people I know recommended this. I think I have it? It may be in storage. So frankly, I'd already read a bunch of books on comics before grabbing this that it kind of felt like a rehash. Which isn't shade on the authors — I personally was just a sort of "girl, I don't need comics 101!!!"

Invisible Ink: A Practical Guide to Building Stories that Resonate: this has been recommended so many times to me. I cannot personally speak on it but I can say I do trust those who rec'd it to me so I am passing it along

the story circle: this is pretty much the hero's journey. a useful way to think of journeys! a homie pretty much swears by it

a primer on beats: quick google search got me this that outlines storybeats

save the cat!: what the above refers to, this gives a more genre-specific breakdown. also wants to sell you on the software but you don't need that.

I hope this helps and please feel free to touch base with more info about your specific situation and hopefully I'll have more applicable answers.

[theladyfae]

Adrienette, person A preoccupied with something while sitting next to person B but still makes sure to hold person B’s hand/play with their hair/put a hand on their leg etc.

thanks for the ask, alex!! I'm aware this one took. a while to get to. but it's been one of my favourite pieces to write.

#2: person a preoccupied with something while sitting next to person b but still makes sure to hold person b's hand/play with their hair/put a hand on their leg etc. adrienette.

(casual affection?? beats everything. I hope you like it!! <3)

Adrien winces as the sunlight falls over his maths worksheet in just the wrong way, making the white of the page stand out too much along with the colour of his desk. He stretches a little in his desk chair and stares at it, blinks a few times until he's used to the contrast, and then moves to bring the piece of paper closer to him once again. 

The low muttering that starts up behind him as a pair of shoes squeak across his floor reminds him that he is not alone, and he turns to watch out of the corner of his eye as Marinette paces about his room, humming nonchalantly to herself. He shakes his head a little before turning back to the question he's stuck on, scribbling out the method he'd tried earlier and starting with a different one. 

It's as if Marinette senses his frustration, because she abruptly stops pacing about his room in favour of flopping dramatically onto his bed to stare directly at him. Barely a minute passes before she's rising again, moving towards his chair to loosely drape her arms around his shoulders from behind.

She rests her chin on his shoulder and starts humming again, swaying a little with the rhythm. He smiles slightly at the contact, eyes still tracing the complicated question on the maths worksheet in front of him, trying to walk through his next steps in his head.

"Adrien?" 

Even though she’s speaking directly in his ear, her voice is quiet. When he turns his head minutely to look at her, she gives him the softest, most considering look he's ever seen.

"Yes, my love?" He smiles at her, abandoning his pencil to take one of her hands in his, clasping both over his chest.

She idly rubs his hand with her thumb, and continues swaying.

"Why do you hate me?"

Adrien lets out a short, shocked laugh as he leans into her touch once more, before turning back to his worksheet.

"I don't, and you very well know that, love. All I said was I'd have to start on our maths homework before I could relax with you, and in case you forgot, you're the one who told me it was alright. You said you could wait."

There's a pause as Marinette thoughtfully chews on her lip, and he takes the opportunity to remove her arm from his chest, threading their fingers together as he brings her hand to his lips before dropping it. 

It startles her just enough that she almost falls into him, which briefly jolts his writing hand. He bites his lip to stifle his own laughter as she stammers out her reply.

"Well… I mean yes, I did, I did say that, but… I didn't know waiting would be so hard!! And besides, you're a cat, so I find it incredibly rude that you aren't tripping over yourself at the idea of having a cuddle nap with me now."

"I'm as much a cat as you are a ladybug," He reminds her with an unapologetic grin. "And it's fun to watch you pace, somehow you're more incapable of sitting still than I am."

A beat. He can sense her indignant pout forming before he even looks at her again.

"I am not, don't be mean. Anyways, you're getting bored, I can tell. You're not even putting enough pressure on that pencil for your notes to be legible."

Adrien looks at the worksheet as a whole once again. She's right, of course. His wrist has been getting tired, and what was previously neat handwriting has now become little more than scribbled numbers, notes he probably won't be able to decipher in a couple hours time.

He sighs, and pokes her arm. 

"It's because you're distracting me. How you expect me to get anything done with you lying all over me is beyond me. Now shoo, leave me be."

To his surprise, Marinette's hands actually leave his side, but it only takes a couple seconds before he finds them looped around his neck again, this time from the front as she drops herself sideways onto his lap.

Adrien rolls his eyes even as an affectionate smile lifts the corners of his mouth, pulling her body closer against him and casually picking up the sheet again, staring at it as he contemplates his next steps.

Two whole minutes pass before Marinette speaks up again.

"You know, this is sort of uncomfortable."

He doesn't reply, just leans forward to start writing as he tries not to melt at the proximity of her face to his.

"Adrien?"

She pokes his shoulder to get his attention. He tries his best not to acknowledge it. 

"Adrien." 

She pokes him again, harder, this time. 

"Adrien."

Another poke. He mustn't laugh, he knows, or she'll take advantage immediately.

"Adrien, I'm literally dying over here. Never have I felt so unloved."

This time she lets her face fall into his shoulder with a fake huff, and that causes him to break character.

He can feel her grin into his tee as he laughs, surprised, and completely gives up on trying to ignore her.

"Alright," he places his pencil down again and stretches. "Guess we can't have that."

She smiles beautifully as he kisses her forehead and wraps his arms around her, shifting a little before she unexpectedly lets out a huge yawn.

She blinks, startled at herself for a moment, before sleepily burrowing into him.

"Actually–" Her sentence is broken by another yawn. "–I think I'm comfortable enough here after all. You can… look at the required learning for Bustier's or something. Give me the answers later, too. Just don't do any exaggerated movements. I'll be taking my cuddle nap now, thanks."

He chuckles slightly and relaxes back in the chair, one of his hands moving to softly card through her hair as he searches for his school tablet with the other, pulling up the research task.

She snuggles further into the crook of his neck, and yawns again.

 "Oh… keep doing that with my hair, by the way. It's nice. Soothing."

He glances fondly down at her and indulges her request. She's more than half asleep already, and she looks so utterly adorable that he can't resist giving her cheek a light kiss.

He moves his attention back to the tablet, sighing internally at the thought of having to use it one handed, and faux frowns at her resting form, shaking his head.

"The things I do to keep you around, Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

He feels her shake trying to suppress her giggle at that, (so, not as asleep as he'd thought, apparently), as she moves up to press a soft kiss to his neck.

"You love me, don't lie."

"I can't say I don't, my love." He says, resting his cheek on her head while scrolling through the required reading. "I can't say I don't." 

"Mhm. Now let me sleep, I beg."

"Of course." He placates as he begins to rock them both back and forth. "Rest well, sweetheart."

And with another smile followed by a sleepily murmured I love you, she does just that.

send me a number and a miraculous/jatp pairing