#because I got to go to uni and I’m not even prioritising it???

[yakultii]

I’m pretty sure a big part of the reason I’m both going insane and my body is back in worse pain/struggling to get outta bed is because I haven’t drank any water in 3 days (bc I forgot) cos drinking water is very important did you know ?!!!!! I use to regularly go 2 weeks at a time not touching a drop of water for years (which probably played its part in landing me here anyway so don’t recommend) but this yr I made it my goal to prioritise water and I had been actually achieving that before this uni break even on my worst days if it’s all I did and I think it’s the reason I got through the first half of the yr as easily as I did honestly UGHSMRKRFID it’s like sleep how they tell u to do it and ur like I’m still fucked without sleep but then u sleep and u realise the fuckery is a little more manageable when u do sleep.. water go crazy like that!! u don’t wanna believe it but it kinda true… my goal for tomorrow is to skull a coupla bottles of water if it’s the only thing I do !!!!! needa make a comeback ASAP

[forabeatofadrum]

You know what fuck it actually, answer all the writers asks that you haven’t already answered yet PLUS another #25 if you have already answered it bc you can be proud of multiple scenes HAPPY EL WOOWOO WEDNESDAY

I should've seen this coming. I am putting this under the cut because this got long. Again, I should’ve seen this coming.

I’ve already answered 5, 8, 9, 13, 18 and 25.

1) is there a story you’re holding off on writing for some reason?

I MEAN... look at my many, many WIPs. I think the main reason for holding off a fic is because I got stuck, or because I want to prioritise other fics. I’m trying to not take on new projects, but instead focus on older ones (famous last words, probably).

2) what work of yours, if any, are you the most embarrassed about existing?

Anything written pre-2015, unless I have rewritten them (like This Charming Man or the SBL/Glee crossover). That, except for JTWLYT, even rewritten it’s bad. I don’t mind, You gotta start somewhere, right? Because otherwise I don’t really mind any fics. Like, I wrote a Glee/Animal Crossing fic once and it slaps.

3) what order do you write in? front of book to back? chronological? favorite scenes first? something else?

Mostly chronological, but it doesn’t really matter. So yeah I write what I have in my mind. For example with Ljubim te, I of course knew there were going to be 24 chapters since it’s the Advent, so I plotted out a little bit what happens in all chapters and by now each chapter has at least something.

4) favorite character you’ve written

Jack motherfucking Zimmermann, even though I have abandoned my boy and I haven’t written proper Check, Please! fic in all of 2022. I want to finish two Zimbits WIPs this year, though. Maybe the attic vs. roaches debate breaching containment will bring me back to this fandom. Aly, what would you rather have? A person living in your attic, or 1000 roaches living in your attic?

6) something you would go back and change in your writing that it’s too late/complicated to change now

Oh I change things without shame. I do point it out in the author’s note, in case someone notices.

7) when asked, are you embarrassed or enthusiastic to tell people that you write?

This is a difficult question. WAIT NOT ALY THIS IS ME AFTER POSTONG THE ASK I FORGOT TO ANSWER THIS ONE I WILL DO THAT LARER CAUSE I NEED TO GO TP UNI NOW!!

OKAY ALY I AM BACK (and also hello to others!)

So, this is a difficult question because I have the Fear of Being Perceived by people I know IRL. Not necessarily because I think they will judge me, but this is just something I’ve ever had. This is also why I am not going to karaoke night tonight. As a result I do not tell people I write, but not because I am embarrassed. I have just always kept my online and offline lives separately, you know? And this has only grown over the years. I have, like, one person I know IRL follow my personal blog and I created this blog because I do not want him to see my stuff. It’s literally in the bio of this blog. This is also why my name isn’t on here, although I do not mind when people use it in asks or replies. It’s not foolproof, I am aware, but it’s how it is.

But I am also fucking proud of my work and I an enthusiastic. This is why I love ask games like this or communites on Discord. I put a lot of time and effort into my work so of course I love to blabber about it. The person I mentioned above? Yeah, he knows I write fic. But I made him promise to not go look for it. Now I did meet some people who unabashedly talk about what filth they post on AO3. And I told these people I write fic to. But I am always feeling that hesistant feeling. I told them vaguely about Bakery fic and So Much Better, but I am never going to send them the link so if they want to find it, they can, but I will not be the one giving my AO3 away. (Rip. I never kudo their fics either for this reason, cause my AO3 account will pop up).

Aka it is just kind of weird.

10) write in silence or with background noise? with people or alone?

I CAN NEVER WRITE WITH PEOPLE AROUND. This is why, when I visit my parents’ house for the weekend, I write less. I recently told Jenna (@thnxforknowingme, not Ushkowitz) that I am shook that she can write at work. I cannot relate.

I don’t like silence in general. I always have sound on, but it doesn’t really matter what. I am currently listening to The Last Five Years lockdown version, but I also just put on video essays that I have seen before, or gaming music, or YouTuber content. Only when I have a specific song/playlist for a fic, I tend to actively choose what I put on, like the playlist for River fic was on repeat during the writing. And Nothing Matters When We’re Dancing is my song for “damn Baz, you live like this”/Time After Time. That kind of stuff.

11) what aspect of your writing do you think has most improved since you started writing?

Uh. Everything. But I am also not too harsh on myself. I was 13. I am 24 now. And my English has improved. Fun fact, I did not know the difference between make out and break up for a very long time.

OH AND I LEARNED HOW TO DO PROPER PARAGRAPH BREAKS

12) your weaknesses as an author

Movements. Setting. That kind of stuff. When two people are in a scene and talk, I love the dialogue but I am constantly like “oh God, what else is going on in this scene?”

I am writing a scene for Ljubim te with Kurt and Sunil in a restaurant and I am constantly like “DON’T FORGET THEY NEED TO EAT!!!”

14) do you make playlists for your current wips?

Not right now. I don’t make playlists for my fics that often, unless I want to integrate the music into the fic (again, see River fic). Or I make a playlist AFTER I am done, like my Myosotis playlist.

15) why did you start writing?

Fanfiction? When I first read Harry Potter when I was around 11, but I used to write stories before that. Shout out to TEENZZONE and my first ever gay character that I made when I was 10 and then I got scared cause oooooh homosexuality scary!!! ooooh taboooo!!!! and erased it and made him marry a lovely woman named Daisy but then years later I was like “fuck it he’s bi then”

16) are there any characters who haunt you?

Oh, uh? The first ever gay now bi character from TEENZZONE I guess. Fuck, was Danny his name, or was Danny the guy who came before Daisy? Look, I was 10. Ik zat in groep 7, of misschien zelfs 6. It’s been 14 years.

17) if you could give your fledgling author self any advice, what would it be?

It doesn’t have to be perfect. I am not a published author. This is all for fun. Besides, I read a lot of fic that maybe aren’t “that good” in the eyes of whoever decides what’s good, but I still enjoy them and that’s what matters in the end. I write for me and me alone and hopefully people like it too and we will all have a banging time.

19) when it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.?

Not

Jk jk

I often have a little section in my doc with “Information”, like a timeline or people’s names or what is happening when. The one for Ljubim te has the names of my OCs and the street names of where Kurt and Blaine live. I am thinking of also making a timeline, because there are some time jumps between chapters, although I also try to point out what month it is in the chapter itself.

20) do you write in long sit-down sessions or in little spurts?

Depends on how inspired I am. I write when I have an idea. Sometimes things snowball from there, sometimes it’s to only add one line.

21) what do you think when you read over your older work?

Define older. As I said, everything before 2015 I pretend I do not see, but after that I actually reread a lot of my stuff. Hence the “I write for me and me alone” mentality. I reread Mendacious this week. And I haven’t read the Anyway series in years and I kind of want to.

22) are there any subjects that make you uncomfortable to write?

There are too many to list, but from the top of my head: non-con/dub-con, detailed slavery or kidnapping or something like that, graphic violence, MPREG, fic with one being a minor other an adult.

23) any obscure life experiences that you feel have helped your writing?

GIRL MY MAIN STARTING POINT FOR KLAINE FIC THESE DAYS IS “WHAT PART OF MY LIFE CAN I LIFT FROM??”

Mendacious: a conversation I had with one of my friends about internalised homophobia

River fic: lol (my broken friendship) (it’s almost Real Blaine’s birthday) (ah, then it will have been 4 years since I last saw him)

Ebb & Flow: my love for Splatoon 2

Bakery fic: me being obsessed with a documentary about rich people in Dubai

Ljubim te: I miss Ljubljana

So yeah, sometimes it influences the plot (Mendacious and River fic) and sometimes it is more a starting point for me to build upon, but it’s my liiiiiiiife it’s not or neverrrrrr-

Also, okay, I am writing this Snowbaz fic called Just Some Guy from an outsider POV and that is coming from me very much believing that Baz is not that hot. Simon is just in love with him. Sorry Baz fans.

24) have you ever become an expert on something you previously knew nothing about, in order to better a scene or a story?

Expert? I wouldn’t say that, but I do learn about obscure things like Broadway orchestra subbing. And of course I had that entire chapter about neurobiology in Myosotis sylvatica. But I can’t say I am an expert on things.

25) copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud of

You can get some All the pretty things lore as a treat.

“As if in every lifetime you and I have lived, we’ve chosen to come back and find each other and fall in love all over again, over and over for all of eternity. And I just feel so lucky that I found you so soon in this lifetime because all I want to do, all I’ve ever wanted to do is spend my life loving you.”

This is how All the pretty things ends. Obviously it is not my writing. This is a direct quote from Glee. I may hate the proposal but they went hard with the speech. But I knew I needed to end the fic with this quote, since it actually inspired the entire premise of the fic. They hop through all these dimensions and in every one of them they find each other to go on to the next. And they grow stronger in the process. I do not know if this fic would be this fic without this quote.

For my own writing, I am really happy with the “emotional climax” of Paradiso 1 and Time After Time, but shhhhh spoilers, you gotta read that for yourself. But a shareable part that I am admittedly obessed with is from The Naked Truth:

We’re acting like a bunch of hormonal teenagers, but I don’t care. We’re high on energy and love. The moment we get to my flat and I close the door behind us, I press him against it and he laughs.

Again, there’s so much laughter.

Is this what love is like? Endless exuberant laughter? I revel in the sound of his joy.

I wrote this because I used “he laughs” or “I laugh” or “we laugh” A LOT in this fic up to the point that it was making me wonder if it’s bad writing, so I just put it in the story. Hooray.

ALY I FUCKING DID IT.

[vines-of-ivy]

A thing I’ve found difficult is the realisation that maybe I need to give Muay Thai a real break. An actual planned break. Because I keep stressing about not going when I can’t help the reason I haven’t been consistent this year. It’d be better if I just mentally said nah so I don’t feel guilt for keep telling myself I will go and then not doing it.

My reunion with my old friends was definitely needed. I think that it’s not just that I feel like I don’t get care from people often enough anymore, it’s that weight of the past and believing I spent all those years at uni around people who secretly hated me haunting my mind since I’ve been back in the city. Seeing old friends who I lived with and still adore and see how much they still adore me reminds me that I didn’t spend those years just convincing myself things were better than they were? If that makes any sense.

Those thoughts are probably why I can’t commit to Muay Thai anymore. I saw a Leo Skepi short and he verbalised exactly what it was I’ve been dealing with. Because why do I feel too tired and too busy to do the things I used to enjoy? Why do the easier things in life feel harder than the normal things? It’s because I was in stressful situations for so long and am still very hyperaroused. All the things I’ve had to do on my own since coming back to England - it’s had an effect on me even if it hasn’t been as extreme as it could be for others.

I can’t really ‘remember’ how I used to be when I first met these guys but talking to them brought out the best of my memories. I used to throw myself into everything and push past anything that looked like negative emotions just because I was at uni and I was gonna do everything while I had the chance. I was gonna drink all the booze, make all the friends, join all the clubs and I had massive FOMO about everything. I would cook elaborate meals and experiment while staying keto. I’d spend my time updating my wardrobe because I never had my own money to do it before. I was finally out of my parents’ house and wasn’t going to let my bereavement block my blessings. My uncle would be proud of me adopting his positivity. It kept me fit, involved and very popular.

But since the assault and the way a lot of people reacted toward me in my second year before COVID, I spiralled backwards, stopped showing up to things and gained a bunch of weight because I’d developed, not quite agoraphobia, but being stalked took its toll on my energy and self-assuredness. I never really got to heal from that and get used to being in the real world again because next thing I knew, I was in Japan.

I still haven’t gotten used to cooking for myself like I used to and have wasted to much money on apps because I feel exhausted. But now I can at least make sense of my exhaustion, I can learn what it actually means to prioritise myself again. And when I learn how to do that, I can go back to Muay Thai again and really enjoy it more.

I still love the guys and will go to social things until I feel better but I need to stop punishing myself for not showing up.

Instead of spending energy on things like that, I should go back to the foundation. I’m fat. Focus on losing the weight. I don’t cook anymore. Get back in the kitchen. My room’s always a mess. Put energy into your space. My skin looks bad? It doesn’t but you get the point. Without a solid base, I will fall apart easily.

[iamnikoli]

AY22/23 Sem 1 Thoughts

First sem in NUS ever~~ I think overall it did go better than expected. I felt rather alone going in, simply because none of my friends went to NUS, and the people whom I knew were going to NUS weren’t close to me at all. I managed to make a few friends (yay!) from various majors from tutorials and lectures. This also leads me to 

Learning point #1: Make friends and have a support network and this will help you academically as well.

No man is an island, but I’ve always been very introverted and private so making lots and lots of friends is definitely not my forte. But it is very important to have friends that you can discuss questions with, share resources and help etc. Compared to my CS1010X days, I felt much better in terms of coping with the workload and the difficulty of the mods.

Personally, I was extremely worried about regressing back to my IP days, like in IP1 my grades were horrendous and I had a lot of friendship drama, and my classmates turned their back against me while I hid in my shell like a turtle. Since I also have lost the ability to deal with drama, I didn’t want history repeating itself, so I worked very hard to strike a balance. I might have placed more emphasis on grades than socialising, but I think it was quite worth it in the end. However, I do feel quite isolated at times, and I feel like I haven’t made any close friends yet.

Learning point #2: You’re on your own, kid.

Definitely did not reference a Taylor Swift song :) but yea this has been a season of change, and my closest friends are all going overseas for uni, so I am lowkey in a crisis. I do feel that I’m straying away from my friends too because I often prioritised studies over hangouts in the past sem. Well, it might be for the better so that I don’t feel as blue when he’s really gone, but I don’t know... I will try to fine-tune this and make time for more people and my hobbies. Speaking of which,

Learning point #3: A dynamic-zero approach is only going to hurt yourself.

This is especially wrt to my gymming routine and friendships too ig. I am a perfectionist and I also care a lot about what people say, which leads to a deadly combination. For the first half of the year, I was very very insecure about myself at the gym (benching 1.25kg anybody?), so I often wanted to go at times when the gym was empty and no one could watch me. However, this presented a major problem as the only time the gym was really empty was at 3-5am, and I am a night owl. So I forced myself to wake up super early to go to the gym, and I was only like 1/3 successful at it. This made my gymming very inconsistent since once I slept through my alarm, I couldn’t go to the gym. Eventually, I learnt to exercise at the gym at less crowded times such as the morning and afternoon. I literally had to drag myself to go in with a thick skin lol. About a month ago, I moved to a gym that’s super near my house, and this has made life so much better since I could go anytime, incl weekends, except weekday evenings like 6-9pm. I’ve been gymming 6 times a week the past two weeks which is unprecedented. My gymming schedule is now also very flexible, I could go at different timings that align with my schedule or the situation on that day. In terms of my friendships, I was initially quite isolated and wanted to isolate myself because it is just honestly the easier choice than opening up to people, but so far the people I’ve met have been just so nice and amazing. Moral of the story is to be flexible and open to new ideas, things, people.

Now onto acads HAHA. So ermm yes CS1010X was difficult to me, and me working alone made life very difficult. Also just something about the class being all NS boys made it very ew, sorry. Needless to say I struggled through the six months of the module, and while I did get a satisfactory grade for it (B+), I definitely did not score as well as most other people, esp since most got A or something it seems. Nonetheless, I still decided to transfer the grade over because it was good enough by my standards, and this would mean freeing up my regular semesters to take other modules that I enjoy and have a greater aptitude for (I call them ‘CAP booster’ modules hahah). I had this worry that the B+ would be the peak of my academic performance, so in my regular semester, I really chionged and went all out. For HSA, I sought the writers’ centre a few times to review my essays, and for HSA/HSS presentations I reached out to clarify and get a sense of my TAs’ requirements and preferences. I also asked questions whenever I was in doubt for my non-graded class part mods, and for the graded class part ones (HSA/HSS) I basically morphed into a class part slut and contributed consistently #sorrynotsorry Jokes ofc I didn’t interrupt other people or contribute meaninglessly. Also, at first I was quite worried about my MA2002 calc mod because the homework was so competitive (what even is median 39/40 homework?) and I was certain that I had to S/U it. One of my close friends asked me to wait till midterms and see, and I’m really really thankful for that advice because it turned out to be true. This is the final learning point of the sem/year which is

Learning point #4: Hold on.

I scored above 75th percentile for midterms which helped to cover in the loss of marks for the previous two homework where I scored a bit below median (as each homework was 10% and midterms were 15%). I managed to recover after my slight blunder at the start and scored well enough to not have to S/U calc in the end so yay. Lastly, my Viet mod was also amazing since I nerd over Sơn Tùng and Viet is similar to Canto so it’s kind of like the process of learning Korean all over again. I will say though that idk why viet’s non-bell curve (there were 31 students) caused so many people to get bad grades.

So yes overall it was a pretty good, better than expected semester. I have no one but God to thank and be grateful for everything throughout this sem, this year and my life, he is my/our creator after all. Whenever I was worried or in doubt this semester, although yes I was scared, deep down I knew that no matter what the near future outcome would be, I was in good hands. Anyways I’m excited but nervous about next semester where I’ll be tackling 32 or 36 MCs :’) Stay tuned for the module reviews!

[here-there-everyfuckenwhere]

I’ve honestly been feeling really burnt out and stressed recently for no reason. I literally don’t understand why!!

I used to love uni and studying and all that but honestly these past few weeks I’ve just been dreading it completely and I’ve been so unproductive. I’ve turned in three assignments late for the semester already, and I’m very close to failing an elective because I’ve just given up. And the more I put things off the more overwhelming they get until it just feels like I’m drowning..

[byakuyasdarling]

Homies, I must be very boring to follow at times due to the fact I’ve literally been posting about the same fictional man daily for 15 months straight

[carmen-sandie-go]

What are some very important life advices that you know ?

'aight this is gonna be a long one -

As opposed to what motivational gurus might tell you, a lot of people are in fact happy working 9-to-5 jobs. Everyone doesn't want the same things from life. Many people prioritise having a good work-life balance over hustling, and you shouldn't feel like you have to achieve spectacular things to make your life matter.

I don't think "school doesn't matter" is the full story. School might not matter for you if you choose a career path where what you learnt in school or the grades you got don't play any role. But it will matter if the path you need to take to pursue your goals requires you to have good grades. Also, what you learn in school might lead you down some interesting paths. For example, being good with chemistry could allow to be better at running a makeup production business someday.

Keep Your Life Private. Now i don't mean don't have social media and just don't let people know anything. But keep your decisions, your thoughts, your next step. Stay under the radar because once you are on the radar, it can be very difficult to get off it. Keep it private until its permanent. We don't want bad juju. For example- if you are applying to universities and everyone is explaining which ones they have applied to and discussing and judging and commenting. Once you got into the Uni of your choice go ahead post that shit if you want to !

Don't gossip about your relationship with your girlfriends like you can talk about something with your best friend but don't tell everyone about your relationship, your fights, etc. Keep your relationship private but don't hide the fact that you are in one.

If they verbally abuse you, they will physically abuse you. if they physically abuse you, they will k-word you. it's not a matter of if, but when. Read that and read it again. it's true. they're not gonna change. you can't fix them or help them heal. don't believe a single promise they make because more often than not they will break it.

Don't send him nudes. I would give the same advice to anyone, no matter how long/ serious the relationship is and especially if they don't feel comfortable doing it. There is no way for you to predict how your relationship will develop. I'm not saying we should always think the worst about someone, but what if you break up and he will want to take revenge by posting the pictures on social media? Or even if you don't break up, but someone else (his mother, his best friend etc) finds those pictures? Or if his phone/ email is hacked? There is always a risk when photographing yourself unclothed and even bigger one when sending those pictures to someone else. He cannot ensure 100% safety. So unless you don't mind the idea of your body becoming public knowledge, don't do it.

Stay unplugged and disconnected from the society for at least 1 week every 6 months. How? Probably go camping without any technology or gadgets with you. Eat, sleep, make out, make love, read stories, read books (not kindle, actual books!), tell stories, make up stories, talk about the universe, talk about time-travel, talk about aliens, talk about sex, talk about interstellar, talk about anything, cuddle up, make out again, sleep, wake up again, watch the stars, make a wish on a falling star, do something impulsive, explore each other, or just explore your inner-self (if you're alone).

All those people you see around enjoying all their success, have worked really hard at some point in their life. Don't agree?! Just stop reading and think for a moment. Remember all the opportunities that you missed and all the bad performances of yours, how many of them you could have been better at, had you worked a little harder, a little more dedication and focus from your side was all it demanded.

Stop giving a damn about what people think of you. Seriously, just be who you are. Random strangers really don't give a crap about what you do, what you look like or what you say. You are not being watched every time you step outside.

[vinnieworld]

5 tips to boost 5 days of Productivity

We all love to procrastinate and most of us (including myself) have made sport out of this, but is this how we really should be approaching things?

The answer is NO.... apparently

So join me in my self evaluation of bringing you 5 tips how I avoided procrastination by being a bit lazy.

Being productive for a whole week when you have too much on your plate but you spend your entire weekend scrolling through social media... well me too :)

Though Mondays suck, its a brand NEW week so we can't let Mondays win and ruin out entire week right?

Tip 1 - Preparation before the week start

- Make a to do list - For the next day or the week

A short list of your most prioritised tasks e.g. starting that essay you been avoiding, even if it just picking the ttile

Make sure to not put too much pressure on these tasks

Keep it simple

DO NOT put too many things, be realistic only add things you know you can achieve

Little ramble on how this helped me :)

We all have those sleepless nights, especially when you have a 9am lecture/class the next day. Somehow you end up going to sleep at 4am still make it to your lecture on time, though the rush might be exciting this is not the way to start the week because your mind will get used to this so much and this becomes your normal routine.

Not going to lie, I am super guilty of this but I found out this not only drains my energy, it strips me away from my motivation and make me lazy all the time.

So one bazzare night I thought to myself what would I potentially want to do this coming week, so I got my phone started typing my "potential" to do list for the week, okay the list was quite long and seemed quite overwhelming, and I knew I wouldn't do all of this so though I made the list I didn't put too much pressure on this. When I checked back in the middle of the week I did most of the things on the do to list unconsiously. This was so surprising I never get things done.... what changed ?

Most of the time we put too much pressure ourself, that's why we procrastinate and they avoid the things we need to do. The minute the pressure is gone you get the urge to do your things even if you are unaware of it.

Tip 2 - Follow today's work TODAY

- Follow the lecture and make notes while you're attending the lecture

Take brief notes on what's on the slides

If the lecturer give extra info add those especially

DO NOT panic if you don't write everything on the slide, remember these are brief notes to for later revision

Speed is not important, what's important is that you have something written on the paper

when the lecture/class is finished fill in the gaps you left during it, do this right after while you still have the energy.

one page = one lecture (unless the lecture is 90 slides then its bit tricky)

Little ramble on how this helped me :)

I personally find it very hard to keep on top of things, especially with how different lecturers have different methods and speed with delivering their content. I tried many methods, recording the lectures, printing the slides, handwriting everything but it only made me bored of the things I was learning.

I can't stare at pages and pages of writing when I'm trying to revise, so best way for me to do this is if I have one page or two for the entire lecture. This helped me a lot of condense my notes, motivated me to keep writing and I felt accomplished by the end of every lecture.

Tip 3 - Keep one book for all your modules

- Invest in a chunky subject divider notebook

This is where you write the notes form the previous tip

One book to take to all your lectures, don't have to carry five or more

Write all the assignment and exams for that subject in the dividers (Kinda like a self-reminder)

Keep a general section where you write extra information that relates to the subjects (e.g. extra seminars, extra activity sessions, groups project notes, your own research for subjects, assignment preparation etc. )

Little ramble on how this helped me :)

Most of my detailed notes are digitalised, this is way easier then writing hours and hours of detailed notes by hand. But all the modules, lectures, practicals are separated so it's too much of hassle to find what I want when I want to have a quick glance at something.

Dividing the book by subject and seeing different content I am going to need regularly being on one place really is therapeutic for me, give me less stress so I don't have to spend time looking through pages of notes to find just one sentence.

Having one book for all my modules, helped me so much to keep on motivated to write notes and keep on top of it and when I revisit it, it's so pleasing to the eye.

Tip 4 - Write flashcards on the day

- Put little bit of extra into a flashcard

Once you finished a lecture, read back and pick the most key bits and write a maximum three sentences

Keep it very very brief

Think of pictograms for some words. e.g. little blog with stokes for a virus or a spark for electricity

Some info you can't fit on your page put it on the flashcard, like a diagram or a table

Little ramble on how this helped me :)

I am a sucker for flashcards, seeing them makes me so happy to revise. But making them when an exam is near is frustrating so if you make them before by the time you get your exam season you already have flashcards to revise from. How convenient!

Tip 5 - Write a sentence or research a bit everyday for your assignments

- Every time you feel like you done nothing today take a look assignment and write sentence - Take this step by step everyday and add information along the way

Pick a title first for whatever your assignment is

Do basic research on the title you chose

Do a basic plan

Improve on the basic research

Add information to the plan

and ect....

Little ramble on how this helped me :)

Doing assignments is tricky, very boring, they can be very long and stressful so we avoid even starting it until the day before it's due. Okay, we all work well under pressure but we don't really produce our best work under a day so investing little time everyday or every other helped me to produce more quality work than normal and it was less pressuring and stressful when I started the binge writing on two three days before the deadline, because all the research, preparation is done all I had to do was write and improve my work along the way.

I actually cannot recommend this enough because it saved me from a lot of breakdowns over my assignments. Just by adding something to it every now and then I basically finished my first draft by the time I actually want to start to write properly.

Bonus tip - Take the weekend off! - > If you're like me and get bored very easily with doing the work then follow these tips for the days you have school or uni, finish everything by Friday and take the whole weekend of .... TRUST ME you will be much more prepared for Monday.

Thank you so much ya'll for reading this, I do ramble a lot but it's a part of me that I embrace so I hope this was helpful for you and make sure to tell me your thoughts and feelings.

Till next time Lovelies x

[miracle-sham]

Crack Your Bones and Say Those Lies.

| {Jasonette July 2021, Saturday Challenge 3: And They Were Roommates} |

| [Ao3 Link] | | [Masterlist Link] | | [Spotify Playlist Link] |

———

| After getting roped into the Vigilante life by Chat Noir, her friend and partner in crime, Maladroit tries her best to help fight crime to make the city a better place, if only Red Hood and his gang would stop causing problems. |

| Or alternatively, Marinette and Jason are roommates with secrets. Both have huge crushes on each other but more importantly, both are trying to juggle moonlighting as their secret identities. However, when watching the nightly news together, everything changes. |

| Word Count: 5,014. |

| Warnings/Tags: No Miraculous/Different Powers Au, Roommates, minor gang mentions/Red Hood is a gang lord, gun violence, Vigilantism, Identity Shenanigans/Mistakes, Miscommunication, some emotional hurt, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, and Domestic fluff. Also Oblivious, Protective, & Mutually Pining Marinette and Jason. |

———

| A/N: Hey! Sorry this is nearly a week late but where I live got hit with a nasty heatwave and I was barely able to write from sheer exhaustion from the heat. But on a happier note, I'm so glad I've finally been able to write and post a proper Vigilantes au (as in like Spidey style vigilantism with homemade gear and all!) Because that kinda Vigilante au especially combined with roommates is my favourite trope ever! Well maybe joint with Dragonrider AUs, but still! I've had multiple Vigilante Aus sitting in my notes and drafts so it's brilliant to finally release one into the wild! Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this! |

| Also side note, Don’t Like? Don’t Read. Also also, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |

———

It's Friday night, and Maladroit and Chat Noir are midway through their usual patrol of their slice of territory in the city.

“Race you to the billboard!” Chat Noir calls out, snickering in an almost cat-like-chitter as he launches himself forwards. Swinging over Maladroit's head with his grapple, he lands on the next roof ahead, in a perfect three-point landing.

Maladroit giggles, “Oh, you're so on!” She grabs her grapple and shoots. Swinging after him and onto the same roof. She instead, dive forward rolls for her landing and uses the momentum to propel her into a run.

Losing his lead due to the momentum loss of the three-point landing, Chat Noir vaults over a roof vent.

Forced to swerve to the side, Maladroit barely dodges a massive puddle of rainwater on her side of the roof.

Neck and Neck, the two raced across the rooftop. Closer and closer to the billboard they raced.

Nearly there! She thinks, c'mon! Reaching an arm out to slap the billboard—

Bzzt!

“Eep!” She yelps, startled by the buzzing crackle of her earring-comms. Unintentionally, she accidentally veers to the side and crashes straight into Chat Noir's side.

They collide with a loud thud, and two of them crumple into a pile.

“Graceful as ever, Mal.” A voice teases over her earring-comms. “Joking aside, didn't mean to spook you, sorry!”

Maladroit groans, “thanks,” and gingerly extracts herself from the vigilante limb pile.

“Gamer!” Chat Noir cheers, having heard him through his own disguised comms. “Got any crimes for us to fight tonight?”

There's a chuckle over the line, “Lucky you should ask, Chat, I do happen to have found some villainous plans for you to thwart.”

Chat Noir cracks his knuckles and stretches. “Oh? What are they?”

“Two which are time-sensitive.” Gamer adds.

Maladroit stifles a squawk, “Two! That are time-sensitive?” Her voice goes up a pitch on the last word, making it sound like a question.

“Uh-huh.” He confirms. “Chat Noir, there's a break-in at a jewellery store two blocks over from you. I'm sending you the directions now to your phone.”

Chat Noir does a two-fingered salute to the nearest security camera. “Got it, G! Detective Noir is on the case!”

“And Maladroit, we've got reports of sightings of Red Hood outside his usual area. By the Warehouses on fourth. There are no security cams around there so I've got nothing but rumours to go on. See if you can check it out and find out what he's up to.” Gamer informs her, sounding slightly irritated at the fact he's got little information to give her.

Maladroit nods, grumbling slightly. “When isn't he up to something.”

Slinging an arm around her shoulder, Chat Noir grins like the Cheshire Cat. “C'mon, Mal! It'll be a quick sweep and nothing will turn up like the last twenty times we've gotten this kinda tip-off!”

“You owe me ice cream from André's when we're in civvies tomorrow!” She huffs. “I made us macarons last time!”

“I haven't forgotten!” Chat Noir protests. “Anyway, see you tomorrow if we don't catch each other for the end of the patrol?”

Maladroit nods. “Yep! See ya later Minou!”

The two split. Chat Noir dashing after the directions, and Maladroit swinging towards the warehouses on fourth.

———

Breathe, Maladroit—reminds herself, perched on the rafters in one of the warehouses on fourth. Staring at the blood-red glowing mask of the red hooded villain, who happens to be oh so creatively named the 'Red Hood', leaning on the balcony railing on the opposite side of the warehouse to her rafter, and presumably glaring up at her.

“It's you again, Maladroit.” He growls, distorted by whatever voice modifier he's got wired into his mask.

She can't help but wince at the reminder of the word she had accidentally said the first time she had ever helped Chat Noir fight crime. Which irritatingly enough, stuck as her vigilante name. Especially since her second attempt at a name, Ladybug, didn't stick. She frowns beneath the black and red spotted bandana covering her mouth, and tightly grips her bladed yo-yo—with piano wire instead of string—of the same colour scheme.

“What are you planning, Red Hood?” She spits out, voice also modified by her bandana, a tad too grumpy and bitterly for the awkward-but-smiley "persona" she's supposed to act like (although it's not so much of a persona when that's just how she is almost all the time). But in her defence, she's had a rough day at uni, things have been awkward at home because of her crush on her roomie lately, and more importantly, Red Hood's lackeys have been a pain in the neck for the past week, so her reaction is more than warranted.

He has the audacity to laugh. “What makes you think I'm going to tell you, Pipsqueak?”

“Well,” Maladroit huffs, “I was hoping you were feeling considerate.”

Red Hood shifts his shoulders. “Aww, sorry Pipsqueak. I'm not feeling particularly considerate today.” In a split second, he slips both guns from his holsters, spins them, and shoots.

Maladroit squeaks, instinctively tugging on her power, and dives off the rafter to dodge the shot. “Rude!”

She's just able to shoot her grapple off and swing up to another metal beam.

“How the fuck do you keep dodging my shots?” He snarls, gesturing at her with his guns in short angry-looking motions.

In response, she throws her yo-yo at him, tugging on her power again. The yo-yo spins through the air, slashing through the Red Hood's jacket sleeve and slicing a deep groove into the gun, then rewinds on the wire back to her. “What makes you think I'm going to tell you, Bullet Boy!” She parrots back, cheekily.

“Hey!” Red Hood snaps, aiming another shot at her.

Tugging on her powers once more, Maladroit yelps as she swings to yet another metal rafter beam in order to avoid the shot. “Your aim sucks!”

“Fuck you!” He retorts, firing off four more shots aimed at her head.

There's a horrifying moment as she barely manages to tug on her powers in time. The bullets barely skimming past her hood, one even tearing the fabric slightly.

“Mal!” Comes Gamer's terrified voice over her earring-comms, “I need you to pull back immediately! Red Hood and his gang have been spotted nearby and Chat can't get to you in time to back you up if you do get into a fight!”

She raises a hand to her earrings and quietly laughs hysterically. “Little too late for that, G! I'm uh currently staring… face to gun to him”

“Oh, fuck!” Gamer responds, voice going up a pitch. “I'm contacting Chat now. Try and get out if you can but prioritise not getting yourself killed, please!”

Red Hood fires his guns again. “Eyes and ears on me, Pipsqueak.”

Squeaking yet again, Maladroit desperately tugs on her power once more and swings to another rafter. Her heart thunders in her chest as loudly as his gunfire. She spits out a frantic, “no promises!” to both of them.

“I've informed him, your backup is on the way.” Gamer tells her.

The main warehouse doors clatter open with a resounding slam! Followed by the stomping of multiple pairs of boots storming inside.

Maladroit waves at Red Hood, the quiet terrified hysterical laughter practically bubbling out of her mouth. “Haha, well I'm afraid that's my cue to Bug Out!”

“Oh, I don't think so, Pipsqueak.” Red Hood taunts, shooting six bullets at her, rapid-fire. “I ain't finished with our convo yet.”

Squeaking for the umpteenth time, and really just giving him even more reason to keep giving her that stupid pipsqueak nickname, she riskily shoots her grapple, aiming and swinging towards the warehouse's large balcony windows.

“Get the fuck back here!” He snarls, voice deepening with fury. Pausing to reload before firing off more shots at her with abandon.

Maladroit wriggles midair, tugging on her powers to try and dodge the shots. She curls into a dive forward roll as the grapple forces her to land onto the balcony. The same one that Red Hood has been stood on this entire time. Oh, help me! She thinks, eyes widening behind her makeshift red with black tinted lenses, goggles-slash-domino mask.

He aims his gun at her once more. “Move and you fucking die, pipsqueak.”

Putting her hands in the air, she swallows a gulp of air. Her body armour is padded beneath her red, and black spotted, hoodie but it isn't bulletproof. And she can feel the straining exhaustion of overusing her powers clawing at her.

They're at a standoff. Still as statues, the both of them. It's almost poetic how they parallel each other. He's got his gun aimed at her, whilst she's desperately clutching at her grappling hook gun in one of her raised hands. Both donned in red. Both committing crimes in the eyes of the law. Two sides of the same coin, one and the same.

Maladroit feels sick to her stomach, staring down the barrels of his guns. Ever so slowly, she tugs on her powers. The window a little bit behind her creaks quietly enough that Red Hood doesn't seem to notice beneath the clamour of his gang doing whatever it is they're doing below.

She counts her breath and tugs on her power. A minute passes with no movement, no words, nothing happening on the balcony. Out of the corner of her eye, she can just see that it's now open enough that she should be able to make it out unscathed. Or at least mostly unscathed.

Closing her eyes, not that he can see, her power snaps. Instinctively she doubles over and slaps a hand over her mouth. Barely in time as a stifled scream is yanked from her throat, leaving her panting for breath. Her knees crash onto the balcony flooring. A bullet whizzes past her neck.

“Shit. What the fuck was that?” Red Hood grumbles, sounding genuinely concerned. He storms across the balcony towards her.

Maladroit can't help but flinch, bodily throwing herself back as far away from him as she can. Mind racing in panic.

He stows one gun back into a holster then reaches a hand towards her. “Hey, hey, hey. Calm down.”

“Gotta go! Bug-bye!” She squeaks out, wrenching on her power with all her remaining strength, and bolting for the window.

“I think the fuck not! Fucking pretending to be hurt.” Red Hood barks, ripping the gun back out of its holster.

Narrowly dodging the spray of bullets shot at her, Maladroit dives through the window and fires off her grapple. Safely swinging far away from the warehouse.

———

Carefully Maladroit drops with the ease of far too many nights of practise, onto the fire escape outside her bedroom window. She crouches and lets the shadows of the night hide her form. Creeping closer, she checks the windowsill for any marks or signs of tampering but it all comes away untouched. Content with her quick security check, she fumbles for the disguised piece of string wedging the window ajar in a way that's barely visible unless you know where to look for it. Got it! She thinks to herself, grabbing ahold of it and prying it, and the window above it, up and open.

Slipping through the open window, she sits on the sill to rip her thankfully not-too-dirty studded steel-toed boots off. Picking them up in one hand, she wiggles the rest of the way into her room and immediately resets the security measures, yanking the curtain down for privacy.

Maladroit then shuffles over to her bed. Tikki—her gorgeous fluffy red and dark brown miniature dachshund—blinks sleepily up at her, from the dog bed next to it. The puppy yaps in greeting before snuffling and curling back up to sleep.

She coos at the cuteness before continuing on. With the other hand not carrying the boots, she pries the blanket covered duffel bag out from underneath. Wrestling to unzip it in one janky and awkward motion, grunting slightly at the exertion. The metal of the zip digs in but the discomfort is mostly mitigated by the padded gloves and wrist guards she's wearing. The easy to clean plastic bag designated for temporary storing of her boots is dragged out of the bag and said boots are tossed in without a second glance.

Huffing, she starts to take the rest of her cross between mostly homemade and refashioned sports kit vigilante gear off. First, tugging down the hood of her hoodie and unclipping the black scrum cap hidden under it. It's dumped unceremoniously into a secondary plastic bag in the open duffel bag. After that, Maladroit removes the black neck guard and pulls her makeshift goggles-slash-domino mask over her head. Those too, are dumped into the other plastic bag. Then she unties the bandana with the nose guard underneath, from around her mouth and nose. Unsurprisingly, they're also dumped in the bag.

Next, she undoes the velcros on her red and black padded gloves, black wrist guards, as well as black elbow, knee, and shin pads. Also dumped into the other bag. With the outer protective wear removed, Maladroit pulls her hoodie over her head. Continuing on, she peels the padded rugby body armour and shorts off, and then the thermal under-armour. All dumped into the third and final plastic bag. “I swear,” Maladroit mumbles to herself, “getting changed out my gear never gets easier. And to think back when I had my last P.E. lesson at school, I thought I'd never have to touch this kinda kit ever again. Rip me.”

Lastly, Marinette—no longer Maladroit seeing as she is no longer in her vigilante gear—throws on her running-to-the-bathroom spare bathrobe to cover herself. She hastily shoves the three plastic bags into the duffel bag and kicks it under her bed. Purposefully leaving it unzipped but quickly fixing the blanket covering the bag, so that she can more easily grab her kit to clean everything later, whilst keeping it sufficiently hidden.

With that mostly taken care of, she nabs the mouthguard case, some clean pyjamas, and dashes out of her room—clinging awkwardly to the bathrobe. She hops in the apartment's shared bathroom, the rest of the place is silent, meaning her roomie, Jason, must have gone out. Still, Marinette locks the door regardless. If there's one thing she's learnt in her foray into the nightly masked vigilantism, is that one can never be too careful.

“Shit! Nearly forgot to take this out.” She grumbles to herself, just as she was stepping into the shower. Prying the mouthguard out of her mouth as she shuffles over to the sink, she gives it a quick rinse under the tap. Followed by a thorough scrubbing with her toothbrush and glob of toothpaste. She pops it into the mouthguard case and leaves it on the side of the sink for now.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Marinette finally allows herself to indulge in a good half an hour-long hot shower to get the grime from a night of crime-fighting off of herself.

She's only just drying off her hair, having already changed into her pyjamas, when the blare of the TV echoes through the apartment. Tensing up, her anxiety runs wild. It's what they get for living in the cheaper but slightly dodgy apartments where the walls are thin and the doors are thinner. Grabbing the mouthguard case, she wraps it up in the bathrobe and peeks out the bathroom door and looks down the hall into the open plan kitchen lounge. Jason's back, he's sitting on the sofa watching the TV.

Shoulders untensing, she finished drying her hair and heads out into the hallway. In place of a greeting, she exclaims, “oh! Jason, you're back!”

Jason flinches slightly and looks over his shoulder back at her. “Yeah, a friend had an emergency so, y'know.”

Immediately, concern wrenches at Marinette's heart, “oh no, I'm sorry. Are they… okay?”

He waves a hand in a so-so gesture and clears his throat awkwardly. “Uh, yeah. They're fine now.”

“That's good!” She says, nodding, as she makes her way fully into the lounge and the TV catches her attention. “Oh is it nearly the eleven o'clock news already? I need to watch this! Alya texted me earlier saying I have to, and she sounded really excited!” Glancing down at the bundle in her arms and flushes red. “Actually, I'll be back in a second!”

“I'll yell as soon as it actually starts.” Jason offers, smiling warmly at her.

Marinette just misses the smile, rushing back to her room, and throwing a quick, “thanks,” over her shoulder back at him.

Also missing his smile turn fond and the good-natured roll of his eyes at her antics.

Barely half a minute passes before she's bounding back into the lounge, with a sleepy Tikki at her heels. She plops herself down on the sofa next to him and hopes the blush on her face could simply be mistaken for the flush of running about like a mad thing instead. Tikki whines until Marionette picks her up and lets her on the sofa with them, padding over to the furthest corner to curl up in.

Jason points to the pink floral steaming mug on the coffee table, right next to his Pride Prejudice and Zombies themed mug. “Whilst you were in the shower, I made us both hot chocolates with marshmallows, my granddad Alfie's recipe.”

“Oh!” Marinette responds in pleasant surprise. She turns to him and positively beams, eyes shining with happiness. “Thank you so much, Jason! You're always so thoughtful!”

He blushes and rubs the back of his neck bashfully. “Yeah, well, I thought it's only fair since you normally make 'em. And I visited Alfie recently, and I promised to get you his recipe to try, so I thought it'd be a nice surprise for once!” He pauses and points at the big bowl also on the coffee table, “also I cooked us some popcorn.”

“Aw! Thank you again! I really appreciate this!” She scoops up the hot chocolate with slight reverence and takes a sip. Immediately her face lights up even more in joy. “Oh, this is delicious!”

Jason chuckles, “isn't it the best! I'll pass that onto Alfie though, he'll be glad to know you like it so much. Speaking of which, he's gonna give making them a try next time I'm up since I wasn't there long enough this time. Would you fancy coming with me to see him, then?”

Her eyes widen and her heart stutters in her chest, feeling close to bursting from happiness. “I'd love to! Do you have a date when you're thinking of going up?”

He nods. “Yeah, maybe around—”

But he's interrupted by the starting audio of the eleven o'clock news.

They both immediately shut up and watch the screen intently as the news anchors appear on the show. The starting discussion is somewhat boring, talking about the local billionaire Wayne-or-something business and a related upcoming charity event of some sort.

Marinette doesn't pay attention to it, but she does catch Jason wrinkling his nose and scowling at the conversation.

Luckily, the topic shifts quickly enough. “And now, over to our newest reporter, Alya. We hear there's been some rumblings regarding the conflict between local vigilante Chat Noir, his sidekick Maladroit, and the gang controlled by the infamous Red Hood himself.”

“That's stupid,” Jason grumbles, “Maladroit is a fully-fledged vigilante in her own right and not just the catboy's sidekick. That's like saying Nightwing is Batman's sidekick!”

Marinette frowns, very touched by his words and trying her damnedest to appear nonchalant. “I don't know… from all the-uh news clips, Maladroit seems like Chat Noir's sidekick to me. She's always hovering nervously near him like a strong wind would spook her.”

“C'mon! She's been reported to have held her own against Red Hood on multiple occasions, alone!” He argues, sounding rather offended on her alter egos behalf.

Scoffing, she shakes her head. “Clearly that's because he's going easy on her! He's never directly shot her, according to the reports clearly, he's soft on her!” The lies taste bitter on her tongue.

Jason splutters and flushes bright red, turning away from her slightly. “W-well that's obviously a testament to her skill and not Red Hood's mercy! He's always reported as being a merciless killer, why'd he be soft on her!”

“I don't know!” She makes a dying-choking noise as she flushes even more red than earlier. Shoving a handful of popcorn into her mouth to avoid having to respond any further.

Luckily, the news shows pans over to Alya standing in front of a screen showing a recorded feed of a warehouse. Not just any warehouse, but specifically the one on fourth that Maladroit had faced Red Hood in less than an hour ago.

Marinette feels her pulse quicken at the reminder of the close shave she'd had.

“Hey wait a second, those warehouses don't have security cameras at all? How'd they get this footage?” Jason complains, eyes narrowed at the TV.

It feels as though ice has been poured down her spine at his words. She freezes, body stiffening in shock. He's right… G said there's none because that's why he asked me to check things out. The only people who'd know this are Chat, Gamer, myself, and Red Hood and his gang. She swallows thickly and tries to subtly side-eye Jason. Oh no. I've been crushing on my roommate who works for Red Hood's gang? Oh god! The friend with the emergency was referring to Red Hood calling him into work!

She can't help but inhale a shallow panicked breath. He could've been one of the lackeys shooting at me and Chat this past week. Or, or I could've hurt him with my yo-yo. Or—

Jason turns to fully face, clearly registering the blatant panic on her face. “Hey, hey, hey, Marinette, you're okay, you're safe. What's wrong?”

“Are you working for Red Hood?” Marinette blurts out, accidentally, the words pouring out in an unintentional panicked rush. “Are you in his gang?”

He jerks back, fear, confusion, and hurt crosses his face. “Wh-what? What makes you think that?”

“His gang was just in that warehouse, and you were out on an emergency for a "friend". And how would you have known unless you were there tonight and working for his gang?” She chews her lip forcefully and winces as the taste of iron floods her mouth.

He reaches towards her, eyes widening concern.

She flinches back, suddenly reminded of how similar this is to that moment with Red Hood on the warehouse balcony.

Jason jerks back as if her flinching burnt him. Raising his hands, he leans away from her to give her some semblance of space. “Fuck. Look, I'm not going to hurt you! Have I ever hurt you whilst we've been roomies?”

Nervously, she shakes her head.

“I really care about you, Marinette. Hell, we've lived together for nearly a year now. I would never hurt you, okay! I promise.” Tears prick in his eyes, and he grimaces slightly, lowering his hands to rest on his lap. “Yeah, I uh, I'm working for him. But I do everything I can to keep work from following me home. I didn't tell you because I never wanted to scare you.”

Guilt gnaws at her. “I'm sorry! I shouldn't have judged. I—” She takes a shaky breath, “I really really care about you too. I'm just worried, what if Red Hood, or even Maladroit, or any of the other vigilantes hurt you? What if you get hurt in one of those gang wars?” Her words aren't lies but they're not the full truth either.

He sighs, “I can't promise I won't ever get hurt on the job. Maladroit and the other vigilantes do a lot of good but Maladroit especially is far too nice to hurt any of us. I've uh, seen her fight some of the others gang members, and been fought by her too. And out of everyone against the gang, she's the one who leaves us with barely more than a scratch at worst.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Most in the gang really respect her for that, y'know.”

Marinette's brain feels like the windows shutting down sound. “Oh. Oh.”

Sheepishly, he smiles half-heartedly at her. “Yeah.”

“So, is that why you were so adamant she's a fully-fledged vigilante in her right?” She asks, feeling bashful yet honoured whilst completely surprised.

Jason clears his throat and glances away. “Uh-huh.”

“Oh.” Her brain rewinds a moment. She splutters for a second, desperation racing through her. “Wait, she's fought you!?”

Full-on grimacing, he nervously laughs. “Left but a scratch!”

“Are you misquoting Monty Python right now? Oh good gods, that's the knight who says that after getting his limbs chopped off!” Marinette exclaims, looking every bit as horrified as her tone of voice conveys.

“Seriously, I've never gotten worse than a couple of minor cuts and bruises, I'm fine!” Jason reiterates.

She frowns and gingerly shuffles across the sofa closer to him. He keeps leaning back away, so she physically throws herself at him, pulling him into a tight hug. Incidentally burying her face in his shirt. “Okay, okay. Just, please let me know next time you get hurt. I've a friend who lived in a bad situation before, so I know how to help patch up minor injuries. Promise?”

Jason stiffens at the hug and slowly moves one hand to cup the back of her head whilst wrapping the other around her back. He shuts his eyes, cocking his head back and sighs. “Alright. I promise I'll tell you. And I'm sorry for keeping something this big from you. As I said, I was worried you'd be scared of me or that you'd get dragged into gang-related shit because of it.”

“You don't need to apologise.” Marinette mumbles in response, “I get it. I really do understand.” She bites at her sore bleeding lips again in guilt, her secret identity left unspoken on her tongue.

He shrugs, “so uh. I'm guessing you're still happy to stay roomies then, right?”

“Of course!” She responds without missing a beat hugging him even tighter.

Eventually, they release each other from the embrace to finish their now lukewarm hot chocolates and popcorn. The news continues playing, no longer forgotten in the background as the two try to act as if nothing has changed.

———

Jason collapses onto his bed with a heavy sigh. He pulls out his phone and rings a number on autopilot.

The dial tone plays as the line connects. “Hey, whaddup Jay?”

“Holy fucking shit balls, man.” Jason groans. “I fucked up.”

Roy hums, “like need help burying a body fucked up or what?”

Jason groans even louder, smushing his face into his bed covers. “My roomie is smart, right. I accidentally let a tiny detail slip when we were chatting whilst watching the eleven o'clock news as usual. And she now thinks that I'm in Red Hood's gang.”

There's a long pause, before Roy bursts into raucous laughter. “Holy shit, I'm dying! She's not wrong!”

“Yeah. I know. She ain't right either though.” He grumbles in response. “She was absolutely terrified when she realised. Nearly had a full-on panic attack and everything.”

“Oh fuck.” Roy helpfully says.

Jason grunts in agreement. “She was also real concerned that Red Hood or the vigilantes have hurt me.”

“Well, that's better?” Roy offers, sounding rather unsure of his own words.

“Yeah but she's taken thinking I'm some low-level member of my gang this badly, how the fuck d'ya think she's gonna take finding out I'm the big bad Red Hood himself?” Jason sighs. “I don't want to ask her out without her knowing this, 'cause it could endanger her.”

Roy hums again, “well, you've been roommates this long already and she's been completely safe from the Vigilante-Gang life so far.”

There's a gentle thump as Jason lifts his head and throws it into the sheets again out of sheer frustration. He relents, reluctantly. “That's true…”

“See. And since it sounds like she's not planning on moving out, clearly she doesn't mind living with you. Just ask her out to dinner already.” Roy adds, cheerfully.

Huffing, he rolls over on the bed. “I'm starting to feel like those weird girl slumber party ads with the creepy phone-a-boy games.”

Roy wheezes, followed by a thudding noise and the distant sound of his cackling.

“Wow. And to think I called you for help. I'm offended.” Jason goads with no bite, waiting a few seconds to hear Roy's response but it's just more laughter.

He rolls his eyes and ends the call, not like Roy will mind. Throwing an arm over his face, Jason barely refrains from grabbing his pillow to scream into. He doesn't, obviously. Because the walls are thin enough that Marinette might hear him and he's worried her enough this night as is.

Sighing like a lovesick protagonist in a period romance novel, Jason moves his arm to run his fingers through his own hair. A date. Just gotta ask her at some point, to dinner at a fancy-ish restaurant. It'll be fine, what's the worst that can happen?

Her terrified reaction on the sofa flashes through his mind, followed by the reminder of how small and scared Maladroit had seemed when she had fallen to her knees on the warehouse balcony. There was no way that she was faking the pain, like he'd initially thought. She had practically staggered in her mad dash to escape. And there's no way for me to find out whether she got to somewhere safe afterwards. God, she could be lying dead in some dank alleyway for all I know right now. Fuck, I hope she's okay...

He groans in distress and shifts in place. Already feeling like he really won't be getting any sleep at all tonight at this rate, thanks to his concern for those two.

———

| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little fic! Comments, Likes, and Reblogs are much appreciated! |

| I decided to go close to canon for names this time, hence why Chat Noir remains unchanged but Max is Gamer (because A. that was his Akuma name, and B. he's like Player from Carmen Sandiego in this, couldn't help myself), and Marinette is Maladroit (from the first thing she calls herself in Origins). |

| Oh, also whilst it's not explicitly stated in the text; Marinette/Maladroit's has the power of luck/being lucky, Chat Noir has the power of being unlucky, and Red Hood has "Perfect Aim" aka he's a hitscan. Which is why Maladroit is able to dodge his bullets by making herself "lucky enough" to dodge in time. |

| Also feel free to send me any comments with any questions you have regarding this fic, I'll be more than happy to answer! |

| @jasonette-july-event |

[tsarisfanfiction]

Colour symbol ask:

Fluff: grey: maturity

Gordon & Alan

Secret Tunnel

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Gen Genre: Family Characters: Alan, Gordon

Well, my muses have come to life again, which is both great for my mental state and annoying timing with regards to the uni work I'm supposed to be doing, but I'll make it work :D

After making a Military Bros masterpost of everything I've written for those two for Military Bros Day, I started thinking about all the different brother duos and how much I've written for each of them. Now, I might be forgetting something, but the one combination I don't recall writing anything for at all is Gordon&Alan, so I poked at my muses and we came up with this!

It's only a loose tie-in to the prompt, I think, but some sensible Tinies content counts as being mature, right?

Colour Symbol Prompts

“So.” Alan glanced up at his brother, raising an eyebrow at the drawl. “Do you want the good news or the bad news?” Gordon continued, tone light in a way that would have been disarming if it wasn’t Gordon, and they weren’t in the remains of a collapsed building.

“What’s the bad news?” he asked, rolling his shoulder. It was stiff, vocally complaining at the movement, and Alan was well aware that without the pauldrons his overprotective brothers had thrown on his uniform before letting him join IR it would be a lot worse. While none of the debris had hit either of them directly, some smaller chunks of masonry had glanced off his left shoulder.

Gordon’s sharp amber eyes tracked the motion even as his brother spoke. “Well, the bad news is that our comms are down.” Alan had suspected as such, but the fact still dumped a heavy weight on his chest. No comms meant no John, no Scott or Virgil, no help from outside. He didn’t like being cut off from his brothers at the best of times, and this was hardly the best of times.

Still, he at least had one brother this time, and despite his penchant for not taking things seriously at home, when out on a mission, Gordon was as reliable as they came. They might not have Thunderbird Five’s data at their disposal, or Scott’s leadership, or Virgil’s muscles, but they did have two working brains between them.

Panicking, as Alan had learnt the hard way on other rescues where things went wrong, did him no favours at all. He swallowed back the instinctual panic and met Gordon’s eyes in the artificial half light of the glowstick from Gordon’s baldric.

“So what’s the good news?” he asked.

“The good news,” Gordon said with a flourish and grin reserved for when things weren’t going their way and Alan’s immediate brother decided the world wasn’t allowed to do that, “is that I think I’ve found us a way out.”

“You think?” Alan couldn’t help but question, even though he was already scrabbling his way to his feet and looking around in the hopes of seeing whatever Gordon had found.

“Over here.” He followed the glowstick as Gordon headed over towards where the rubble looked the thickest, blocking them in. “There’s air flowing in.”

Neither of their uniforms offered much by way of exposed skin, but Alan leaned down where Gordon gestured and took off his helmet just long enough to feel a faint breeze on his cheek.

“Where’s that coming from?” he asked, tugging his helmet back on. Gordon pointed at the floor, or what had once been the floor.

“It’s coming from down there,” he said.

“The floor?” Alan knelt down where Gordon gestured. “Why would it be coming from the- oh.”

The house they’d been in, and were now trapped inside, had been an old one. Alan didn’t remember the exact age, but it was a couple of centuries old at least. Old houses, especially larger ones, had secret passageways.

“So how do we get it open?” he wondered out loud, already rummaging around the area. Gordon crouched down next to him with a shrug as his hands joined Alan’s in trying to find a way to open the passageway that had to be there if they were getting airflow.

“Figured finding ways to open secret passages was more your thing,” his brother admitted. “Don’t those games of yours have secret passageways in all the time?”

The question was an honest one, and Alan blinked. “Well, yeah,” he said, “but those are games. This is real. It won’t be the same.” Despite his words, his fingers were still pulling and pushing at the stones that made up the floor, because at least it was a lead.

They could, of course, wait for their bigger brothers to barge their way in, with Virgil encased in his exosuit and Scott so close behind he’d be standing on his heels while John guided them non-stop over the comms, but there was still a lot of work to be done and they were deep inside the building.

Said building took that moment to groan again, threatening another collapse if they didn’t get out pronto. Alan loved his brothers, but he wasn’t about to get crushed because he’d waited helplessly for rescue. The danger zone covered a large area, and while he and Gordon had found no casualties in their sector, Virgil and Scott would have to prioritise the civilians elsewhere no matter how much they might be panicking about losing contact with the pair of them.

If he and Gordon could find their own way out, so much the better.

“It’s close enough, right?” Gordon shrugged, still sounding inappropriately light-hearted for the situation. Alan didn’t take it personally – Gordon’s coping strategies had time and time proven themselves to be effective.

“I’ll let you know,” he grunted, finding ridges in the stone floor. “Bring that light closer. I think I’ve got something.”

The sickly green glow spread across more of his vision as Gordon held it close to his hands, illuminating the remains of the floor below them. There were multiple ridges carved into the stone, all uniform and completely mundane.

Except for the section that wasn’t.

Alan almost missed it, huffing in defeat as he sat on his haunches and rubbed at his shoulder again. At a glance, it looked no different to the rest of the floor, but it had caught his glove in a way the others hadn’t. It was also in the same place as the mysterious airflow.

Gloved fingers scrabbled at the discrepancy, hunting for a purchase that would hopefully reveal their way out. Gordon had moved to crouch right next to him, holding the glowstick aloft but otherwise keeping his hands to himself and leaving the investigation to Alan. His presence there was comforting, helping Alan to keep it together when part of him wanted to scream into his dead comms in the hope that John would pick it up anyway.

There was a click, barely audible over the noise of creaking masonry in their immediate vicinity. Alan felt it rather than heard it, his fingers suddenly pressing down as the resistance vanished. Age old mechanisms whirred back into life, until with a clunk part of the floor moved down and to the side, revealing a small, dark, passageway leading down into the belly of the house.

“Nice one,” Gordon acknowledged, leaning forwards and peering into the inky depths. A second glowstick was snapped and tossed in, illuminating what was definitely a rough-hewn rock corridor. “I’ll go first.”

He was halfway in by the time the words registered, and Alan peered at the opening with some reluctance. “And you’re sure this will get us out?” he checked, because he didn’t want to wait to be rescued like a civilian, but he also had no intentions of being buried alive.

“That air’s coming from somewhere,” Gordon reminded him, edging forwards a few more paces until he reached the glowstick laying where it had landed on the floor of the corridor. “And the roof of this thing seems pretty sturdy.” He rapped it a couple of times with his knuckles. “If the rest of the house collapses, this’ll be the last thing to go.”

A glance around showed that his brother was probably right. Alan swallowed before following him inside, sticking right on Gordon’s heels as the older blond led the way, glowstick held up high for light.

As far as passages went, it was small. Apt for a secret passage, but annoying when the ceiling lowered and the pair of them had to stoop almost double to get through some sections. It twisted and turned, in some areas narrow enough to force them to go through sideways, and at one point the way forwards seemed to vanish altogether before Alan realised a shaft of rock was concealing the next section.

It definitely lived up to its likely original purpose of a secret escape. Pursuing someone through there would be difficult; luckily, the only aim Alan and Gordon had was getting out of the collapsed building.

The first sign of the outside world was when their comms crackled in unison. It was impossible to make anything out through the static, but the garbled voice of John was definitely missing the calm tones their ginger brother usually deployed on rescues. Scott’s response was short and sharp, clipped in a way that screamed panic, and the low rumble of Virgil felt on edge, too.

Returning comms promised that they had to nearly be out, and Alan stumbled forwards, almost catching himself with his painful shoulder before he arrested his momentum with his healthy arm instead.

Neither he nor Gordon spoke, even though he was certain the same thoughts had to be running through his brother’s head as well. They were close, but they weren’t out yet, and had no reassurance that the exit for the secret tunnel hadn’t been collapsed or buried by more falling debris.

Still, it remained the best chance they had. Alan didn’t fancy trailing back through the passageway and sitting back in the rubble of the building, and he knew Gordon felt the same, so pushing onwards was their only choice. It continued to twist and turn, dog-legging and backtracking with no apparent rhyme nor reason. Alan tried to keep track of it in his head, logging it like any secret passage in Cavern Quest, but it put all the virtual ones to shame.

Then Gordon stopped, and Alan walked straight into him.

“Ow!” he exclaimed instinctively, before stepping back a pace. “Why have we stopped?”

“It doesn’t go any further,” Gordon said, holding the glowstick high. It was running out of juice, leaving the sickly green glow far fainter than it had been earlier. It was barely enough light to make out his brother’s face, let alone whatever the rocks surrounding them were doing. “This must be the end.”

“So get us out,” Alan shrugged, rubbing his shoulder and trying to hide the wince of pain that came with the action. Their comms were still broadcasting garbled static interspersed with panicked voices, but the signal was still too poor to even attempt to get hold of John. “There’ll be a mechanism somewhere. Try looking for something slightly off in the ridges on the stone?”

“Trying,” Gordon grunted. The faint green-lit silhouette of his shoulders strained as he pushed and pulled at the rocks. “Not finding anything, Alan.”

“Let me try.” He pushed forwards, trying to squeeze past Gordon to get a better look at the wall of rock blocking their way. Gordon fell back without complaint, although it took a lot of pushing and pulling, and a concerning scrape against his helmet before they managed it.

Alan was struck by a flash of gratitude that none of their older brothers were with them. Scott and John would both be too tall, and Virgil was too bulky. Getting through the passageway with one of them would have been a nightmare. At least he hadn’t yet stopped growing and Gordon was small – not that he planned on mentioning that to Gordon just yet. There was a time and a place for the teasing, and this was neither.

With Gordon now behind him, looming over his shoulder with the ever-fading glowstick held out helpfully in his periphery, Alan reached out and felt around for something similar to the switch he’d found to get them into the tunnel from the other end. Carefully uniform ridges carved across the rock and he followed them with his fingers until, finally, something gave.

Bright light spilled in as the end of the tunnel opened, blinding him with midday sun.

That, however, paled in comparison to the way both their comm audios suddenly sharpened.

“Any sign of them?” Scott’s voice demanded.

“Keep working on getting the mother out of that room,” John non-answered, still sounding far too on edge. “Virgil, there’s a small life sign the other side of the wall.”

“F.A.B.” The forced calm of Virgil’s voice told Alan he was no less agitated than the other two.

“Hey guys.” Gordon chipped in, echoing in Alan’s helmet from the comm channel in stereo with the sound of his voice in real time. “Where do you need us, Thunderbird Five?”

“Gordon!” All three voices overlapped in frantic cacophony. “Where are you?” Scott demanded. “Where’s Alan? Are you okay?”

“I’m here, too,” Alan promised.

“We’re fine,” Gordon added. “Who’s left to save?”

“Virgil and Scott are on the last life signs now,” John told them. “Your signals have reappeared a fair way out from the danger zone; get yourselves back to Thunderbird Two.”

Alan looked around and realised he was right – the two Thunderbirds gleamed in the sunlight, but it was immediately clear that the passageway they’d taken had led almost directly away from the crafts. Even in a straight line, the walk was going to take a good quarter of an hour.

Next to him, Gordon sighed and started walking. “F.A.B.,” he agreed. Alan stumbled a little as he lurched forwards to keep up. “We’ll see you there.”

Sure enough, by the time they arrived, both on-site brothers were waiting impatiently. It was clear that it was only the presence of their rescuees that had stopped them from striking out to meet them, but even that wasn’t enough to stop their big brothers charging towards them as soon as they were visible.

Scott reached them first, always the fastest runner, and Alan let out an oof as he was crushed into a frantic hug alongside Gordon. Worried blue eyes looked them both over, narrowing as they found something they didn’t like.

He was pushed aside as Virgil reached them, Thunderbird Two’s pilot refraining from giving them a bear hug only because he’d clearly spotted the scrape on Alan’s helmet as he’d approached.

“Are you hurt?” A medscanner was deployed almost before Virgil was finished talking. Scott didn’t wait for permission from anyone before carefully detaching Alan’s helmet and peering at his head. Alan didn’t bother to stop him.

“I’m fine!” he made sure to protest, though, although his hand betrayed him as it subconsciously moved across to rub at his shoulder again. None of his brothers missed the action, and before he knew it he was being whisked inside the green Thunderbird so Virgil could take a closer look.

Scott hovered worriedly by his side, glancing over periodically at Gordon. Alan followed suit, catching Gordon’s eye, and his brother rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. It was fond, though; Alan wasn’t at all surprised by Scott and Virgil’s behaviour, and he highly doubted Gordon was, either.

It was just a hazard of having older brothers.

[vigilvntes]

Bruises - Kylo Ren x Fem!Reader (Star Wars)

A/N: the way i had the opening of this in my drafts for ages and then at the big time of 2am i decided i wanted to rewrite the whole thing and get it published ;) i’m so much more motivated to write than usual when i should be doing uni work but oh well more kylo content for you guys <33 inbox is always open for requests while im actually writing so feel free to send and i hope you enjoy <33

Word count: 1900+

Warnings: mentions of minor injuries. 

You walked out of the casino, wincing as the harsh evening winds hit your bare arms. The dress you wore did little to nothing to protect you from the weather, but the last thing you expected to be doing was leaving the venue in search of your date.

Canto Bight was never your favourite place. In your opinion, it was filled with sleazes, who only came to the city for three things: money, booze and sex. However, you were the daughter of a noble family and despite your wishes, your family often sent you along to the gatherings they were expected to attend, assuming that you would fit in with the crowd more than they would. They thought you’d enjoy the party, enjoy the alcohol, even the attention you often seemed to draw to yourself. How wrong they were.

However, there was always one saving grace to evenings like these: Commander Kylo Ren, of the First Order.

The two of you weren’t official, as much as you would like to be. You understood that he had work to do, with his grandfather leaving big boots to fill, he barely had time to sleep, let alone date. But for some strange reason, you were different. You caught his attention, and he made sure to make time for you, whether that meant attending parties and events with you, or simply going out of his way to visit you, if only for an hour. 

Truthfully, you had spent many nights lying awake, tears in your eyes as you thought about your future, which you hoped would be with Kylo. Would he eventually ask you to be his girlfriend? Would he want to marry? To him, those questions would seem trivial, of no importance. He loved you, and would find ways to show you. But to you they meant a lot, and you were hoping for some kind of answers sometime soon. 

You shook your head as you made your way over to the short wall which surrounded the casino, leaning on it, using your elbows to keep yourself propped up as your head rested in your hand. Your gaze flitted between the city and the body of water beyond, which seemed strangely calm despite the mean winds. For a moment, you forgot about the cold, forgot about why you had even come outside in the first place as you watched the waves slowly made their way towards the shore. 

Your peace was soon interrupted.

A pair of hands snaked around your waist from behind and you let out a yelp, turning around quickly to face whoever had touched you, ready to defend yourself as much as you possibly could. Until you heard that familiar, smug chuckle come from behind a mask. You knew exactly who it was before you.

You rolled your eyes, “Way to make an entrance, Commander.” Despite your annoyance, you truly were happy to see him. Immediately you pulled him towards you and wrapped your arms around him, smiling into his chest as you felt him return the gesture. 

Eventually, you pulled away and narrowed your eyes at the man. “Don’t think you’ve gotten away with it. I still have a bone to pick with you.”

Despite how hard he tried to hide it, you heard him sigh lightly underneath the mask and mumble a disgruntled, “Go on.”

“First of all you’re late.”

“(Y/N), I had bus-”

“I’m not finished.” If anyone else spoke to him that way, they would surely be punished. But not you. He allowed you to put him in his place, mainly because he couldn’t ever bring himself to snap at you, but also because he found you too cute when you were pissed off with him.

You took his silence as a go ahead to continue with your rant. “You’re late. Your clothes are ruined. Your helmet still has smoke coming from it. Do I need to continue? How did you even get here? Where have you been?”

“Like I said-”

“Take it off.” You demanded. You were sick of hearing the robotic voice coming from the mask already. You wanted to speak with Kylo, not Commander Ren. 

An almost stunned silence washed over him and he replied to your demand with a quiet, “T-take it off?”

“The helmet, genius. Take it off.”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, but eventually he reached his hands up and pulled the helmet from his head, revealing a mop of dark, curly hair, which had grown longer since the last time you saw one another, and just as you had expected, new cuts adorned his face, almost nicking the gauze of the scar he had attained during the destruction of Starkiller. But what really caught your attention was the black eye. 

He simply stared at you, waiting patiently for you to react, prepared to accept anything you threw his way. But for a moment you said nothing, all you could do was sigh.

After a minute, you moved closer to him and reached up, your fingers tracing the scar on his cheek, offering him a small, sympathetic smile, “If I remember correctly, the invitation said black tie, not black eye, Ren.”

Kylo couldn’t help but smile at your comment, and you were glad to hear his deep voice, which you had missed so dearly, reply with, “I must have read it wrong.”

“You wanna tell me how Kylo Ren, Commander of the First Order, has ended up with a black eye?”

His smile dropped at your inquiry to know more about his injuries, and your smile followed suit as you realised exactly what had happened. “It was them, wasn’t it?” You asked.

“Who?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Kylo. It was the Scavenger and her Resistance friends, wasn’t it?”

His silence said everything. He pushed his tongue into his cheek and looked away from you, almost embarrassed. And truthfully, it was quite embarrassing. He was Commander Ren. He was feared. Respected. Yet he couldn’t even manage to capture and kill a scavenger girl. 

You turned away from him, moving your attention back to the sea, crossing your arms. He knew you were pissed and he’d have to talk his way out of this one somehow. His silence simply wasn’t enough.

“(Y/N). I’m sorry that I turned up so late.” You didn’t even move, let alone reply, so he continued. “And I’m sorry about the state of my attire.” No reply. “And.... I would also like to apologise for the state of my face.” He wasn’t usually one to apologise to anyone, but a genuine apology from him was the only way for him to bounce back from his fuck up’s.

You tried your hardest to keep your composure, but one of the most powerful men in the galaxy apologising for his face was enough to bring a smile to anyone’s lips. “I guess she got you good, huh?”

He came to your side after hearing your joking retort, “You could say that.” He found himself thinking this too often, but if anyone else had mocked him this way he most likely would have destroyed a wall or two. He knew you would never think of him as a failure, or an embarrassment, as many probably did. Your light-hearted jabs at him were mainly for your own comfort. To make light of any bad situation he often found himself in.

You sighed, leaning your head onto his shoulder. You hated how quickly you could melt back into him again, but you couldn’t waste any more precious time you had together being angry or upset, “I just worry about you,”

“I know. But you shouldn’t,” He mumbled. “I can be reckless. I throw myself into danger. But I also come back fine.” He knew to you those words would probably mean nothing, but he was trying his best to comfort you. 

“You make it so hard not to worry. I mean, this war you’ve got going on... It’s so much bigger than you, or me, or the Scavenger girl. And truthfully, I’m scared. Terrified, actually. For you, for me. For my family. For everyone, really.” That was the first time you had ever admitted your fears to him. There was no way he’d give up his title, give up the First Order, but you hoped he’d provide you with a little reassurance that things would be okay. 

His grip on you tightened, not so much that it would hurt you, but enough to know that he felt every word you spoke. “You know I wouldn’t ever let anything happen to you, or anyone you care about. I care about you too much to hurt you like that.” He stepped in front of you and knelt down, taking both of your hands. “As for everything else, I can’t make any promises. No one, not even the Supreme Leader knows what’s coming next. All I can ask is that you trust me enough to make the right choices.”

His words, for some reason you couldn’t quite decipher, felt like they held some hidden meaning. Like he was planning something drastic, or he knew something drastic would happen in the future. But you took these thoughts with a grain of salt, choosing not to press him any further, and instead choosing to trust him, as he asked of you. Squeezing his hand lightly, you offered him a small smile, “Of course I trust you. I’d trust you with my life. Just... Do what’s right. And if it doesn’t feel or seem right then... Don’t.”

He nodded and stood up slowly, “Of course.” After a few moments of peaceful silence shared between the two of you, as you processed each other’s words, he broke it. “You’re going to have my head the next time I see you, I know, but I have to go.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “You have to go? As in you’re not staying?”

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am, and I know I said I’d join you for the night but given how today went, I’m not even supposed to be here.”

“Oh, and where exactly are you supposed to be?” You knew the answer already, and you knew he’d probably be in some deep trouble, you just wanted him to say it himself.

Once again, he pushed his tongue into his cheek before replying with, “The Supremacy.”

Bingo, you thought to yourself. The Supremacy. The Supreme Leader’s ship. And Kylo chose to go out of his way to see you first, prioritising you over his master. You couldn’t help but feel flattered, even though your plans for the night had been ruined. You gave him a small smile, “I suppose because you came to me first, and because I’m almost certain the Supreme Leader is gonna give you a harder time than I ever could, I’ll let this one go,”

“I appreciate that.” He leant down and pressed his lips to yours gently, and when he pulled away, he left another on your forehead. “I’ll see you soon, I promise.”

As you watched him walk away, towards the steps, you wished you could go with him. Be by his side, be able to see him everyday. Even though you knew that wasn’t exactly possible at the moment, you couldn’t help but ask. Before you could stop yourself, you had called his name, and he, already a few metres away, had turned to look back at you. 

He knew what you were going to ask, and this time his answer was more hopeful than it had been before. He couldn’t tell you what was to come, but he hoped it would work for the both of you.

“Kylo I-.... One day, will you take me with you?”

He nodded his head slowly, and spoke only one word, “Soon.”

[simsadventures]

Not Me: Chapter 1: Sweet, Sweet Life

Summary: You always wanted the perfect life- great husband, fulfilling job, and overall happiness. What if you can’t have even a bit of your fairytale?

Warnings: angst, swearing, implied smut, memories (in italics)

Word Count: 2074

A/N: The first ever chapter of Not Me is finally here! Im so excited about this story, and I seriously can’t wait for you all to read it. Let me know what you think so far, and what do you expect from this little story? The ride has only just started, and it will get spicier as we go along, I promise xx

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist

The sun was shining through the blinds, and you groaned loudly. Another day in your personal nightmare. You tried to snuggle into the pillows harder, willing your sleep to come again and take you for at least another few hours, so that you wouldn’t have to face the world. And by the world, you meant your husband, James.

Just the thought of him made a shiver run down your spine, and not the good kind. You didn’t even know how you got to that position. There used to be times when James was all you could think of.

You were at high school together, buddies, thanks to your fathers owning a publishing company together. You were a freshman, and he was a senior, but that didn’t stop you from spending a lot of time together. You used to piss off your fathers too often for your own good, whenever there was a banquet or some other fancy shit, you and Bucky would always find a way to make it at least a bit enjoyable for the two of you.

You had each other to hold on to, and that was enough. You both went to a different university, Bucky attending Yale, while you went to Brown. It was during this time that you grew apart, having different goals in life, and life choices as well. But your crush was still strong as ever at that time.

James had this ability to draw people to them. You could even pinpoint the exact thing that made him so charming because there were so many of them. His eyes, his deep, gruff voice, his physique, which would get any girl to her knees, or his charm. But you knew he wasn’t interested in you that way.

While you saw Bucky partying every second possible, you were more the studying type. Not that you didn’t have your fair share of wild parties, making you wake up in Canada instead of your home. But you were a passionate reader and student, and so when the crucial times came, you knew how to use your brain. And form what you heard, with Bucky’s party habits, he had to pay somebody to take all his exams. That was the only plausible option in your mind.

You only saw each other during summers, when you both worked for Barnes&Clark, your fathers’ company. And while Bucky was much more interested in all the sexy secretaries, you were impressed by all it entailed to be a businesswoman. You sat with Mr Barnes and your father in their meetings, they even seemed to listen to you while you spoke about your ideas of new ways of getting books to young people.

It was close to your graduation that your life turned completely, and, at the time, you thought for the better.

There was a knock on your door, and you frowned. It was Thursday evening, and you weren’t expecting anyone. What was even weirder that the person was already in the building, without ringing the bell from the front door. You cautiously went and looked through the peep-hole, only to be utterly surprised.

You opened the door, a confused frown on your face.

“Bucky. To what do I owe the pleasure?” You asked him, stepping aside, to let him inside.

He didn’t say anything, just stepped in and waited for you to take him further inside your apartment. When you led you to the sofa and sat down, you raised your eyebrows, indicating that he really should start explaining what it was he wanted.

“Look, Y/N. We’ve known each other for a long time, and I’ve been thinking, recently, and I reached a decision in which, I hope, you’ll support me.”

You still didn’t say anything, not sure where he was going with it. You haven’t heard from him in months, and so it was peculiar as to why he suddenly came knocking on your door.

Without any other word, he got on his knee and pulled out a white velvet box from his pocket. Your eyes were suddenly the size of a cartoon character, and you were pretty sure they now occupied most of your face.

“W-what? Bucky are you drunk? Or are you fatally ill? What the hell are you talking about?” You asked him, on the verge of a mental breakdown. This couldn’t be happening. Sure, you liked him and sure, you did try to write Y/N Barnes a few too many times before. But you were both young, 24 and 27 years old, and you sure as hell weren’t ready for marriage.

“I prioritise doll. I know it sounds crazy, but think about it. I know you have been single for far too long, and you’re never comfortable around any other guy than me. I’ve had my fair share of fun, and now I’m ready to settle down. And with whom better than you? We used to be best friends, and I think you never really grow from that kind of bond. Just think about it, will you?”

You were looking in those icy blue eyes, and for a weird reason, you saw the desperation in them and a hint of anger. You couldn’t be too sure, because you haven’t seen him for so long, but he had one thing right. You never really grow out of that bond. You thought he did, but obviously, he was thinking about you as much as you were thinking about him.

“I’ll need some time, and I think we should spend some time together if you want to marry me, don’t you think?”

A flash of something you weren’t able to recognise ran through his face, but as soon as it appeared, it was gone, and you weren’t really sure what it was.

“Sure, can I stay tonight and we can watch a movie, or something, huh?” He asked, without a hint of a smile, and you enthusiastically nodded. After all, this was something you dreamed of quite often, to be completely honest.

It went like this for a while, you and Bucky spending evenings together, and after one particularly fun evening, full of gin and tonics and tangled sheets, you finally gave him your answer.

“I will marry you Bucky, if it’s still something you want, I think we could be really good together,” you whispered against his naked chest, laying almost on top of him in your bed. He hummed, patted your shoulder and got up from the bed.

You looked at him confused, trying to determine if you said something wrong, but he only pulled the velvet box out of the pants that were laying abandoned on the floor and slipped the massive diamond ring on your finger.

“Good. Now sleep so we can plan the damn thing,” he said in a hushed voice, got dressed, and left you laying on the bed, naked and exhausted from the amazing sex you just had, confused as hell.

And that’s how your marriage pretty much started. Despite Bucky leaving that day, you were pretty excited about the whole ordeal, and so was your and Bucky’s family. The only unexcited party seemed to be Bucky, but you thought it was just his face, nothing serious.

But after a year of marriage, you realised that it probably wasn’t just his face. When he was around his Uni friends or his colleagues, his demeanour changed drastically.

He was joyful and funny, and always the life of the party. But when you two were alone, he was brooding and looked pissed 99% of the time.

You thought you’d have everything you ever wished for. Happy family, amazing husband, and a dream job. But things aren’t always the way we want them.

Your amazing husband rarely ever spoke to you, and when he did, it was to point out a flaw on you.

You shouldn’t talk so loudly. Your language isn’t lady-like. I don’t like it when you wear sweatpants, I think you should look nice even at home. This steak isn’t medium-rare. This make-up is too much. Stand and be pretty. Blah blah blah.

You tried to do all he said, trying to be the best wife for him, because you still had the idea of Bucky loving you, and wanting to spend his life with you. But every sentence like this created a gash in your heart, and by the first anniversary, you thought your heart was just a shredded piece of muscle, unable to function any more.

What broke you down to your knees, was, however, a different kind of message, delivered to you by Bucky and your father.

“James will lead the company, he has most of the rights to Barnes&Clark, and we think it would be great if you were a stay-at-home wife like you were supposed to be from the very beginning. Look, Y/N, you are a woman, and those shouldn’t be heads of the company. You understand that, don’t you?”

You were in total and complete shock. He trained you your whole life, to be the CEO, or at least the head of the publishing, while somebody else would take care of the numbers. But now he was telling you that your dream was vanishing right in front of your eyes.

“But, but, dad, I thought you-“

“How about you stop thinking and just be a pretty thing, sweetie?” Your father asked you mockingly, and to your utter surprise, Bucky laughed as well, patting your father’s shoulder.

You wanted to run away in tears, because every time you tried to speak up, either your father or Bucky would shush you. By the time the meeting ended, your eyes were filled with tears, but you didn’t want either of the men seeing this weak side of yours.

When you left the company’s building with Bucky by your side, you were shaking with both sadness and anger.

“Are you seriously with him on that, Bucky?” You asked, desperation evident in your voice. But the look Bucky gave you made you regret that you even asked him anything.

“Of course, I agree with him. You have to take care of our household, and not be busy with business. Oh, and, by the way, I would prefer it if you called me James, from now on.”

It felt like he pushed a dagger deep inside your guts. He let everyone call him Bucky, he would always say that it just felt better when the people around him called him Bucky. And now he wanted you, his wife, to call him James?

You sighed again and sat up in your bed. Ever since you moved in, you had separate bedrooms, James telling you he needed his rest to run the company. And even if you wanted to protest in the very beginning, you gave up. Like on many things in your life at the moment.

You used to have dreams, you used to be ambitious, but this life took everything from you. You rarely ever had sex with James- he would always tell you how tired he was and that you should be tired as well. And if you weren’t, it meant you weren’t doing enough through the day.

You learned how to cook, how to bake, how to sew, how to have the perfect garden, but it still wasn’t impressive enough for James to spare a kind word for you.

And neither did you father. He would always only remind you to be a good wife to James and to leave the rest to the men, and by your first anniversary, you believed all of those things, your self-respect pretty much non-existing.

You got up from the bed and headed towards the closet, to put on something representative to not give James any reason to pester you. You took a quick shower and put on some make-up, knowing full well that James was against the natural beauty look. You put on high-waisted wide pants and a blouse, trying no to look too shabby even if you were only going down to the kitchen to make James a breakfast.

When you came into the kitchen, he was already there, sitting by the table, reading news on his phone. He didn’t even spare you a look, and you sighed, walking towards the kitchen isle. It would be just another day in your hell, and you couldn’t do anything about it. Or, at least, you thought you couldn’t.

/Next Chapter >

Not Me:

@jennmurowski13 @lovely-geek @vogueworthy-barnes @veronawrites @loser-alert @trumpettay @thesoldierrogers @girlbehindthecameraposts @little-smurf @jesseswartzwelder @fuckwhateverfuck @learisa @karla-silva @blowing-mikey @afterlaughter27 @93generation @ungratefultroll @maybeisthemoon @greenprisca @geeksareunique @champagnesugamama @hailqueenconquer @grincheveryday @mc225g @thatweirdwalangpake @neerness

Bucky Taglist

@this-kitten-is-smitten @paradisiacalsparks @crazybutconfidentaf @owlyannah @lassini @s-trawberryv-eins @reniescarlett

Marvel Taglist

@voltage-my2dlove @kneel-begyourpardon @lumar014 @ptrs-prkrs

Forever Tag:

@eileenalone @sasbb23 @p8tn0lish @coffeebooksandfandom @waiting4inspiration @caswinchester2000 @mogaruke @justthatfangirloverthere @mushyjellybeans @livsheph @sebbbystaaan @notyourtypicalrose

If your name is crossed out, tumblr won’t let me tag you for some reason, I’m sorry.

If you’d like to be tagged comment/message/send an ask. If you like the story, please reblog :) any comments are appreciated, even the critical ones. Always a space to get better, so let me know what you guys think.

[deardragonbook]

A quick life update

So, I came onto to Tumblr today to edit some of my drafts (I currently have 13) and throw them into the queue. It’s the first time I’ve allowed my queue to go down to zero in a while so I thought I’d take advantage of this moment to give you all a quick update of where I’m at. 

So, still managing the daily uploads! I thought with uni it’d be harder but I’ve managed to stay on top of things for now. 

However, it’s worth mentioning this week will be my last week of just uni, because from next week as well as uni I have a paid internship (it’s for a research center specialising in ethical economics and I’m so amazed that I have been given this opportunity!) but of course that’s going to take a lot of time away. 

Currently I have 13 drafts, plus several ideas, including a post about covers and the process I had, one about your character’s outfits, a couple of list ideas... trust me, ideas aren’t my missing resource. 

I’m really happy to see my followers and interactions are slowly growing here on Tumblr, but as an author who has to prioritise self-promotion, if I have to prioritise a daily upload it’s got to be on TikTok (because it’s the bigger site and people are more often moved to action, don’t ask why, social media magic is it’s own kind of witchcraft). 

My story Oppida Institute for Reformation still hasn’t missed an upload, but I don’t have tomorrows chapter ready, so after twenty three weeks tomorrow might be my first miss. Just know I’m not abandoning it and it will get there soon. Again, priorities. 

Sales for the first book have staggered, as expected, haven’t sold a copy in about three weeks, haven’t had any unlimited reads in two. But I have received my first ratings which is very exciting! 

I had my first beta reader to finish the entire second book and I definitely have to touch up the beginning a little to help newer readers, but she really enjoyed it other than that and it was a huge boost in confidence! 

Especially her pointing out in several occasions how much she love done of my own fave characters who I wasn’t sure would resonate with others. Or being told my protagonist is a well done balance between strong, feminine with complex emotions, the way she said it almost bought me to tears, I was so happy. 

A lot of beta readers straight up haven’t shown up yet, so I’ll probably be searching for a couple more soon because otherwise it’s going to be really difficult for me to do a summer 2022 release like I plan. But, goals will be goals. 

I think that’s all. 

Sorry if this came out a bit rambly, or if it came out on the less positive motivated side, I’m extremely tired so things are what they are. 

I’m not going to edit this post as it’s not advice, it’s just... update. 

But things are really cool right now, I’m really enjoying writing about writing. I’m looking forward to having time to read a bit more, looking for having the money to support fellow indie authors, looking forward to a lot of things, some will come sooner than others, but that’s always the way. 

As usual,  check out my socials and book here.

How are you doing? I hope you have time to write or at the very least read. But if not, I hope it’s because everything is going really well and that’s keeping you busy. If still not, I hope things calm down soon. I wish you the best of luck, and remember, life is full if ups and downs but, even lightning strikes can be beautiful and the calm comes both before and after the storm. 

[emilycollins00]

A3 actors! Art in bloom

Type: One shot

Pairing: Miyoshi Kazunari x Reader

Theme: Passion / Art / Clash

Contrary to what many people and even classmates of yours thought, being an art student was not something you should chose to do lightly.

Sure, it seemed enjoyable, cute even. But no one ever talked about how many hours you would spend with a single portrait, drafting about abstract concepts or trying to discern at two in the morning whether a sculpture should turn more sideways or look at the ground to create a deeper perspective. 

Art was wild.

But you loved it and, why not admit it, you took it pretty seriously. Maybe a tiny bit more than most people.

That’s why you had always liked how Kazunari Miyoshi, although being the loud person he was, frequently went on and on with you discussing ideas when there was some debate in class. That brain of his was something else. His works and usual approach when mixing modern and traditional Japanese culture fascinated you. It really did.

But that had been changing lately, and it angered you.

Up until this year you hadn't really cared about it. Everyone had their right to live however they wanted after all.

However, without being able to tell when it began, you started casually observing him. You watched him talk to your other classmates as soon as the lecture, frowned as he concentrated on the draft they had one hour and a half to finish or taking selfies and live videos of the works you all were demanded to do. You even discovered yourself staring and how the sun caressed his profile first hour in the morning.

He had a nice profile.

By that point, something inside you was getting frustrated. He participated in class and attended to the lectures, but at the same time…? you felt he was starting prioritising social media over art, or looking for people for one of his popular mixers, like so many of your other classmates, who had most likely entered this major without much thought, did.

You would understand if he would have a part-time job, but the thought of him being able to do so much more and deciding to stop midway left you speechless.

You wished for him to take more things seriously. 

“Miyoshi, were you able to clean all the supplies from last class?" you called him out between the break. Everyone in class traded places to carry the main boxes with brushes, paints and whatever main source they had to work with each week "Our teacher told me to take some clay from there. I'm planning to use them for my final project, but I can't seem to find the key in the secretary office”

The university student lifted his head from his mobile and tipped on his chin, trying to remember "Supplies from...? Oh man, THAT is why I had them in my working space!” He palped his jeans looking for it “My bad, I was totes in a hurry and just closed as soon as we were done!” 

You contained an exasperated groan “Why would you get the key unless it was to clean the practice room?” 

Kazunari laughed nervously under your intimidating glare “True, true! It's just that I was talking with some friends over the phone and they were in a hurry so…” he showed you the key taking it out of his pocket, maybe to show that at least he hadn’t lost it “Do you need them now? I could go clean for you” 

The vein you had tried so hard to maintain calm popped altogether. Not wanting to keep talking, you rapidly grabbed the key from his hand and headed to take the supplies. God grief how you hated that carefree attitude. 

                                         ……………………..…….

“No prob, dude! Next time just hit me up with a DM and I’ll come running to your uni here! In exchange, I’ll need your help to finish the flyers so…” 

Recognizing the flashy voice, you slowly looked behind, witnessing the blond with another person. Was he meeting with people to play around here too? 

You couldn’t believe it. You all had your final projects deadlines almost spitting in your faces! That’s why you had to come to this other university to ask for permission to use a kiln for your final, as you didn’t have lectures prepared today and your university didn’t have any. Didn’t look like it was Kazunari’s case. 

“Uh? No way, Y/N-pyon!” he waved at you with both hands, confirming it was you indeed, as he got closer “Looking fleek today too! What are you doing here in Yosei?” the person walking next to him whispered something “They’re a friend from my major Tsuzuroon, I told you about them, dude!” 

You mentally scoffed. Without returning his greet and turning on your heels, you headed for the teacher’s office.

 “You said friend but…” Tsuzuru squinted his eyes, watching you leave “…It doesn't look like they like you very much” 

“No worries! Nowadays they are always like that. But their works are so lit! Y/N-pyon is the ultimate remix of you, Ten-ten and Yukki!” 

“That’s… not a good thing, Miyoshi-san”

                            …………………………………………

“Y/N-pyon, about-”

“Miyoshi, sorry. I am on my way to Yosei University to finish my work and unlike your usual approach of work to play, I actually don’t have time to waste”

“Uh? My works are…”

“Are what? I’ve been seeing you doing half-assed things all over the semester. This last week you didn’t even come at the afternoon lectures” you were pretty sure this was just you venting at this point “You’re amazing Miyoshi, I honestly think that, so why? If… If you only put more of yourself into it, your art would be even more unbelievable!”

He went quiet, a rare sight.

“Art it’s not something you just do for laughs; I thought you were one of the few people here that felt the same and-” the phone in your bag started ringing. Head  teacher. Inhaling deeply, you answered it “Yes?”

“Y/N-san? I am so sorry. Could you come to Josey university?” 

Losing the eye contact you had been maintaining with the blond boy, your heart sank as you heard the words ‘kiln’ and ‘malfunction’. “…Please tell me my final project is ok” 

                                       ……………………………….

You stood in silence, looking at the mess when you heard a knock at the door.

“I know I shouldn’t have followed and am expecting you throw me out the door but…” you didn’t move an inch so Kazunari took that as a free pass.

Just as the teacher told you, the electricity in the small building had had an issue and there had been a combustion, meaning, the sculpture you had kept here while working for weeks was now cracked and in shreds. You sniffed, brushing away the tears that were trying to come out from your eyes. All your hard work. All the time spent, had been for nothing.

“The Kiln is burnt. I don’t have anything good to save” you felt emotionally exhausted “Damn, I should have used air dry clay since the beginning… or not tried to sculpt anything” your vision became blurry again “I don’t know why do I make everything more difficult that it is”

Kazunari contemplated the situation, studying the seemingly full cracked sculpture from afar.

“Teach probably told you she would wait for you to turn on the work, right?” He saw you vaguely nodding you head “You got this!” he put his hand on your shoulder, you barely glancing at him “Look, If you still wanna use this base I’ll go ask for some moisturize and clean water to mix. Then I will maintain the upper part as you work down there, not bad idea right?”

You stared at him, finally grasping that he had come all the way here and was now trying to help “Why are you here? I… was being a busybody telling you how to work in our major” you had realized you had crossed the line back then.

Kazunari laughed, shaking his head “You were not saying anything that was a lie though, I don't want to admit it, but it’s true I've been a mess for a while”

“I guess parties require a lot of work” you bite your tongue hard. He was being a decent person trying to help and you couldn’t stop for two seconds to pick on him? You wanted to punch yourself.

“Mmm? Ah, our theatre troupe is almost opening for performance and the next troupe is on practices so flyers and scripts are running at full gas”

You stopped looking at your sculpture. What did he just say about a theatre?

“…What?”

“You’ve never come, Y/N-pyon? Mankai company is the best theatre in Veludo way! You totes should come, I’ll even send you the tickets for our new performance!” before you knew it, he had already DM you what you imagined was all the background information.

The moment you unlocked it, you almost dropped the phone. The photos and drawings of the posters were amazing, and you just knew who it had done “You… never said you had a job”

Kazunari considered what you pointed out. Mankai had managed to recover from what they needed to pay but they still didn't have enough founds “I’ve never thought about our acts as a job thought”

Your mind was a mess. Being an actor and doing publicity didn’t count for him as he studied? No wonder he usually left early! Now you felt even worst. You had behaved like a… “Uh, are these original templates?” you browsed over the performances’ posters, each one more astonishing than the other “This is… wow and this one?” 

He blinked, noticing how the tone of your voice was now more soothing. You had somewhat calm down. He would high-key enjoy hearing you talk to him like that more often “Hey, enough about me. We have work to do”

You agreed, putting away your phone “You’re right but again I… I am sorry, Miyoshi. And thanks, for staying” 

“No prob, Y/N-pyon!” 

“Would you tell me what I could do so you stopped calling me that?” 

“Eeeeeeh why? I think it fits! It's super-duper cute, like you!” 

Thump!

No. You told yourself.

Coming back to your senses you told yourself the warm you felt in your cheeks was due to summer starting earlier. It definitely wasn’t because of Kazunari smile directed at you, helped you or how the sun reflected on his perfect profile as you both started working on your work. 

Art was wild… but it was also an evocative of feelings.

_________________________________________________________

This one has been a difficult one! I wanted Reader to kind of clash with his mindset

Hope you guys enjoy it. Have a wonderful day! 💕

[sitrispeaks]

A letter to my Mom

I want to talk about us over the past few weeks. Sometimes I can’t tell if you like me or not because the things you say to me when you’re angry hurt. I don’t know if you think I just brush them off or don’t register them but I do. The “sitting on your fat butt and texting your boyfriend comment”? That hurt. Do you perceive me as a slob? Someone sly, who’d willingly hide things from you? Because I can assure you if I had a boyfriend you’d know. I wouldn’t go into the effort of hiding it from you. I’d want you to know. The ‘You’re only being nice to us because you need our money’ comment you so casually passed a few days ago? That also hurt. Yes, I do need your money, but do you really think the only reason I live with and like you guys is because you pay for my needs? Even if I got student loans I’d love you, of course I’d love you. I don’t know what gives you the impression I don’t. And that day at the temple? I was tired. I was tired and I was nervous and jittery for results day, it’s fine to point out my mistakes, I don’t care. But you made me feel like some clumsy idiot. The things  you casually say to me hurt. I remember them. I think about them at night and sometimes I cry. I try and block them out, because obviously you love me right? I’m your daughter, you’d love me no matter what. Except the things you say don’t make me feel that way. I genuinely believe that if I were someone else’d child you’d hate me. You’d think I was some clumsy idiot. You think that anyways. But if you had a child who wasn’t me you wouldn’t want them to mix with me. That is the impression I get. And it all hurts because I love you. Both you guys. I always think bout how much you both have done for me, and how one day I want to repay you back for it all because I cannot think of many Indian parents who’d do the same. But lately the things you say to me, they hurt. Even if you said them because you were angry because why would you even call your own daughter a fat cow if you didn’t mean it?!  So when you go and tell your friends that you don’t know what you’re going to do without me when I go to uni it makes me angry, because thats not the way you treat me. It feels fake and it makes me sick. Because I don’t even know if you really like me or not. Loving someone and liking someone are two different things, you don’t necessarily feel both at the same time towards a person. I know you love me, I don’t know if you like me. I have always loved and liked you, I think you’re brave and intelligent and you always stood up for me. You know how you joke about me complaining about you to my friends? I have never badmouthed you to a friend, because your faults are tiny compared to everything you have done for me as a mother. I don’t think you hesitate to say whatever comes to your mind though. Even if it hurts. I don’t want this graduation party. It feels empty. It feels like a show. Are you truly happy I got into my top uni? Has your perception of me changed? Have I done enough to deserve your respect and admiration? Will I ever be good enough? 

Maybe it’s because of my background that I still want to forgive you, you’re my mom. You’re older, I should respect you and not take what you say to heart. But I’ve also learnt that respect goes both ways. And right now It’s not. I don’t expect you to step around my insecurities and always prioritise me. But I can promise you that despite all our fights I have never once insulted you the way you have me. I’ve never picked out your flaws and insecurities or thrown names at you. Even if I was so angry I felt like my head was about to burst. And I’d reassure myself and say ‘Suck it up. They’re good people. Not many people would do what they have done, what SHE has done’, but lately its getting too much.  I think a lot about the future and wonder. What if we become estranged? What if we never talk to each other again? Maybe I just want answers, do you really love me? And do you like me? 

When I talk back to you, its because you make me feel stupid. It’s because I feel like you’re questioning me. Just like today when I was going upstairs to merely put my phone on charge, or that day in the temple when I was just holding the jug of milk. I don’t want to ‘give you attitude’, but I’m growing up a bit I guess, I’m just trying my best to figure stuff out. 

Mother I do love you. With all my heart. You’re one of the three people in my life I’d die for. I think you love me in your deepest heart because I am your daughter after all, but I do wonder if you’ll ever truly like me again. I didn’t think comments such as ‘fat butt’ or ‘fat lazy cow’ or ‘Just go to university, then you’ll never have to talk to us’ were funny or words I could just get over.  I wish they were but they are stuck in my head and they remain there night after night, taunting me and scaring me. Your words do hurt, but what hurts more is the fact that I’m starting to believe you mean them. 

But I don’t know. Maybe I’m just sensitive. 

[lavenderek]

hi, A/3 volunteer back again! i hope i can answer your questions properly, but i’m on mobile so sorry if i get a bit confused. it’s also going to be quite long but i hope you can figure out which questions i’m replying to. let me know if you need any more clarification!

1 - as tag wranglers, we don’t moderate content via deletion, etc - we just move fics into the correct tags, and it’s typically on a fandom basis (for example, i might solely wrangle for something like the supernatural fandom only). i’ve never come across ‘problematic’ tags since most of the time, it’s just sorting tags into like... more general tags? so example - someone tags a fic with ‘kinda fluffy kinda angsty’. we would then kind of make it so that tag redirects to ‘fluff with angst’, even though it still appears as the original tag on the fic. does that make sense? i’m also a little unsure of the other questions you had here - which is totally my fault, i’m in the middle of writing an essay for uni that needs to be in in like... 12 hours and my brain is frazzled - but if you were asking about a situation where if i was concerned that a single user had a collection of fics that were all entirely based upon something illegal and reported their entire account to mods, would it be deleted - i’m not sure. tag wranglers are kind of like low-level moderators, and we’re not what would typically be thought of as moderators since we simply reorganise content versus actually removing it. since the reporting process is typically through the site itself and is handled by an entirely separate team, i cant speak for how they think or what their process is.

2 - it’s up to our judgement as to if we want to report it, but again, the tags we wrangle are VERY general. tags like ‘dead dove don’t eat’ and stuff that are typically full of polarising content arent something i’ve come across, because i think they make up a minority of most fandoms when put against tags like ‘fluff’ and ‘angst’ and even stuff like ‘chocolate’, lmao. i’m not certain what happens when a report is processed and the fic is found to be removable - what i do know though is that with fics that are seen as breaking specific laws (i.e depictions of CSA, slander, etc) mods are often a lot more hard-handed for several reasons (reputation both within the community and in terms of the fact they could very much get in legal trouble). again though, i’m a low-level moderator and don’t see that side of the process. however, if i report something and it’s not taken down, i’m not implicated in any way. it’s been a while since i’ve been on the site and reported anything so i’m not entirely certain if reporting is 100% anonymous or if you have to supply details like email, but i think if you DO supply things, it’s to ensure you aren’t mass-reporting someone (bc i think that counts as targeted harassment). email is also possible to fake, so i think you can make the process anonymous if you want to. as for how often i personally report fic - not often. i’m a CSA victim (which is why this topic is touchy for me tbh), and i don’t like to go through the process because i find it arduous - you have to give an explanation as to why you’re reporting the fic, and i find it triggering at times. i’ve also never been in a position where i have found a fic while actively volunteering that i feel has been necessary to report, so i can’t speak for that either. all of that being said - i’ve heard of and seen on one occasion fics and entire accounts be deleted for harassment/slander - in particular, i’ve heard multiple times that accounts dedicated to purposely like... making fun of? or like technically harassing? kpop boy group members have been taken down because even though their content is ‘technically’ fanfiction, it’s obviously just there to incite hatred against a specific person. so, imo, if mods are quick on taking down accounts obviously run by 14 year olds in fandom drama writing numerous fics where boyband member A calls boyband member B stupid and tells him nobody likes him, i think they’re very likely just as serious about taking down more serious content. that’s just my opinion and my personal experience though, and it’s distinct from my volunteering.

overall, on the whole topic of CSA on the website - it’s really tough even just as a basic content moderator. there’s lots of reasons as to why people post it, and though people are very obviously welcome and encouraged to think critically about everything, it’s a fact that the topic is really really difficult to manoeuvre (culture, who is posting it, when was it posted, why it’s being posted aka vent fics, etc). as i said, i’m a CSA victim myself, so i understand the frustration, but it’s too nuanced and difficult a topic to be able to say ‘ban it all’. however, i do think the site is doing their best to crack down on stuff that is very obviously on there for one specific reason, and i also think generally, they’re changing things so people are able and sometimes encouraged to anonymise themselves by not giving any profile info and to protect themselves by turning off comments completely, etc. i find that you can make it really easy to curate your posting experience so that essentially, you can post but nobody can really interact.

3 - i like tag wrangling! i got into it because i saw a position on the front page of the site and decided to go for it. it wasn’t very taxing to get into and you don’t have to put much work in - a couple of hours a week is enough, and they’re understanding about work/uni/etc. it’s easy to meet other people through volunteering, and they ensure everyone is over 18. i don’t read through fic myself - just through tags, and then i sort them into their proper places. if something is tagged wrong, we don’t get in touch with the author, we just do our best to reorganise the tag so it redirects into the correct place - again, for instance, if someone writes a fantasy AU that they tag with ‘high fantasy prince/princess AU’ and that tag doesn’t exist, we would sort it into the main tag for a royalty AU or something like that. re: monetisation of fics: technically, monetised content is not allowed on A/3 - if someone is advertising their patreon or kofi in their authors notes or profile, you’re supposed to report it just as a general user. i think it’s because it puts the site at risk of being sued or something? but as a low level mod, i don’t HAVE to report these things unless i see them while i’m tag wrangling (aka i see a tag like ‘my patreon is XYZ!!!!! send me money!!!!!!’) and i personally don’t report monetised fics because ... i don’t find it a prominent issue, lmao. people are also learning to avoid it by being like this is my tumblr or this is my twitter, and when you click on their social media they link their patreon or whatever There instead. also, idk who decided the colour scheme! i think it was just like a generally agreed upon thing with the site designers. i also think there’s been convo for a few years about dark modes and stuff on the site, but i’m pretty sure the site has to get a few more things out of the way before they’ll prioritise that (i know they’re trying to work on a better moderating system for things like spam and harassment atm bc the spam filter absolutely sucks dick lol). i’ll totally drop a mention like WOW, wouldnt it be AMAZING if we could have this SPECIFIC COLOUR SCHEME, tho <3

thank you so much for responding!!! this is really cool to know, i've never even seen a post by an a*3 worker before so you're a total unicorn right now

heh uni-corn because you're in uni. sorry i'm tired too

good luck on your paper!