#i am not smart enough to be writing a paper about this. however i can (due to being able to type) and WILL

[keo-k]

EDUCATION IS SO SEXY WHEN I GET TO LEARN WHAT IM INTERESTED IN

YES MR SCIENCE LET ME YAP ABOUT THE FERMI PARADOX AND THE GREAT FILTER ❤️ THIS IS GOOD. GREAT EVEN. IVE NEVER WRITTEN SO MANY WORDS SO QUICKLY

[itscherrylipsforme]

Paper cuts and cheek kisses: Minho tmr x Med jack!fem!reader

Summary: Minho was never one to go the med jacks' cabin often. On the contrary actually, you had to drag him into it whenever he got hurt in order to patch him up. Oh girl, but things changed when you two started dating, and now he comes up with the silliest excuses just to see your face. At least being his fave med jack means some special treatment

Warnings: None, except that Minho is madly in love and reader is slightly sarcastic (got it from her mother, aka me)

Requested: yes

Words: Around 1300

Author's rambles: As someone who had the biggest crush on Minho growing up (Who I want to fool with this? I still do) and who imagined her role in the Maze would be med jack this request was so cute to write. Hope you like it!

Masterlist Characters I write for

Likes and reblogs are appreciated ღ

I do not authorize any of my works to be copied, translated or plagiarized ✗

Everyone needed to prove their worth in the maze, from the youngest and oldest boys to you, the only girl. And being honest, your passed that test with excellent marks. Living in a place full of the most stubborn and reckless shanks you have ever known (not that you remembered meeting anyone before them, but that was not the point) proving that you were strong enough wasn’t a choice, but a need. However, most of them shown them a new kind of strength they hadn’t seem until then. The strength you used to calm Chuck down when he was crying during his first night in the glazeThe strength which was necessary to always be the one who introduced first to new greenies, to do it with a sincere smile as saying “Yeah, this place is a clunk, but it’s our clunk. Our place”. The same one that helped you become a med-jack.

You loved your role, somehow you were really good at it as the girl you were before being trapped there had some knowledge about it. But you would be lying if you said it didn’t have its downsides, one of them being… Well, him.

“Minho, slinthead, go to the med-jack's cabin right now. That cut doesn’t look good” you demanded as soon as you saw him on the gardens talking with Newt after he came back from the maze.

“Nice to see you too, princess” That condescending pet names he used on you, you swear one day your eyes would fall from your face just because of the times you had rolled them. Since your first day you had to deal with his teasing (not flirting, as you had corrected Newt when he asked about it once) “And don’t worry, Clint and Jeff already saw it and told me it was fine as long as I cleaned today in the shower”

“Clint and Jeff only let you get away with no treating any of your wound properly because they are scared you will fight them if they said otherwise” You crossed your arms “Unfortunately for you, you don’t have the same effect on me. To the cabin, now. I will be the one who binds it”

“You are lucky I can’t say no to you, darling” He started following you towards the med-jack’s, not without smiling sheepishly first.

Sitting in the hammock, Minho looked at your face as you gently rubbed a cotton soaked in iodine. So focused on your work and yet so beautiful, he thought to himself. He was enjoying the view, but your words snapped him from his thoughts.

“Can I ask why the hell you never want us to see your injuries?”

“Pretty girl, you are smart, way more than me, but you don’t get me. It’s not that I don’t want you to do your job, I have my reasons for it” He smirked, if he wasn’t so stupid sometimes you would admit he looked handsome right now.

“Please, enlighten me” You turned around to look for the necessary equipment to patch him up.

“Do you know that before you arrived, I never protested when it came to the med-jacks? That Clint or Jeff would treat me, and I wouldn’t utter a word?”

“If that is your way of saying that I am bad at my job, you should be more careful. Do I have to remind you that I am the one here who has a scalpel nearby?”

You were so done with his shit, if you remembered right there was a phrase that said something like “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you” and same way he shouldn’t annoy the person who was responsible for his health. The scalpel thing was a joke, more or less, but you were starting to rethink it.

“Not really darling” He chuckled, and you found yourself liking the sound of it “Maybe I just convinced Clint and Jeff to wait to heal this because I knew you wouldn’t want me to be injured. So, you would take me then and I would get to spend some time with my favourite med-jack”

“You are unbearable” And you were completely sure you mean what you said, but you couldn’t bring yourself not to smile at his silly plan “Please, tell me you didn’t get the cut just to see me” You asked while wrapping his strong (Were you thinking about that right now? Really?) arm with the bandage.

“You shouldn’t think too low of me, y/n” He shook his head “The injury was an accident, Newt came up with the plan when he saw it on the Garden”

“I knew that you couldn’t come up with all of that on your own” You smirked and stared at him. Had his eyes always been that deep or was the light that passed through the windows what made them look like that? “By the way, the patch up is done, just be sure you don’t drench it and come her to change it every two days until it scars. I would also recommend that you take a day off running, but you would ignore me anyway, and I won’t waste my saliva”

“You look really good when you are mad at someone, has anyone ever told you that?” He blurted out, not even thinking it twice, and he was surprised when instead of telling him to fuck off you blushed. Neither of you had expected it. You needed a few seconds to recover your mind and your ability to speak.

“Whatever, you can go now” You hadn’t realized how close you had been to him until then “Come on, what are you expecting? A good job sticker or something?”

“I have a better plan in mind” Another smirk, his hands guiding yours to rest on his shoulders, his comfortably around your waist. His face coming closer to yours, threatening to close the gasp… Woah, you had to admit that this bastard was handsome. And finally, his lips on yours. Slightly nervous at first, as he was afraid you would pull away at any given moment. Then sweet turning more and more passionate by seconds.

News always flied in the glaze, you two being “a thing” now was not. an exception. By the time the next bonfire arrived, no one, not even the greenie, wasn’t aware of it. Newt was glad, Minho had been rambling about you way too long and he couldn’t stand it anymore. Alby was a little bit angry, his rules had been broken again after all, but that was something you could deal with later. Minho was over the moon. You finally assumed that the line between annoyance and love is really thin. But there were two people who weren’t so happy about it…

“Here he comes again” Clint claimed as he saw a familiar tall and dark-haired boy entering the cabin.

“What happened this time?” Jeff asked as he placed some liquids on the shelves “Did he touch some poison ivy? Or did he catch a cold?” Being honest, they were growing tired of your Minho coming over with some stupid excuse to see you.

“A paper cut thanks to the map’s room, actually” He answered as he came closer to the desk where you were writing down the inventory before the next box arrived. “Afternoon, princess”

“Afternoon you too, my lovely clumsy bastard” You joked, placing a soft kiss on his lips

“Y/n, we will be running off band-aids if you keep putting one on your boyfriend every time he wants to see you” Clint protested as Jeff faked to be throwing up because of your small gestures of affection.

“Fine, a get-well kiss will be enough I guess” Minho accepted, and you wasted no time and kissed his cheek.

The rest of the med-jacks were more than annoyed with him, but he didn’t seem to care. After all, you were his favorite med-jack, the only one whose opinion mattered to him.

[mindfulstudyquest]

❥﹒♡﹒☕﹒ 𝗽𝗿𝗼 𝘁𝗶𝗽𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗮'𝘀

having good grades doesn't necessarily mean you're smart, a test or exam can't always determine someone's intelligence, but it's academic validation we crave, right? so here are some tips thanks to which you will get straight a's.

𝟭. understand what the professor wants ( 🪼 )

learning the entire book by heart is tiring and basically useless. we take our education seriously, but it's impossible to know everything about everything, so inevitably there will be topics we can gloss over. check old tests, listen to the teacher during the lecture, talk to students who have already attended the course and passed the exam. understand which aspects your professor particularly cares about and concentrate on those, your exam will certainly go well.

𝟮. strengthen your memorization ( 🦋 )

very often the amount of things to study is just too much and, even though you spend all day in the library rereading the topics again and again, you feel that it is not enough. you get confused, you forget steps, you get lost in the labyrinth of the subject. investing in understanding your form of memorization will benefit you in the long run. identify your type of memory (spatial, photographic, echoic, etc.) and focus on how to improve it. having a good memory will make your studying for the exam much faster and easier.

𝟯. pay attention in class ( 🫧 )

attend all lectures and take notes. much of your studying comes from your professor's lecture. underline the important things in your textbook, carefully follow their speech and - if there are any - their powerpoint slides, writing only the things that the teacher adds and which are not written either in the book or in the extra material, if necessary, record the lesson so you can listen to it again at a later time.

𝟰. organize your notes the same day ( 🧃 )

when i take notes in class i write badly and quickly to keep up with the teacher, shortening words or omitting passages.  by reorganizing your notes that same evening (at most the next day, if you really don't have time) you can revise your work when the lesson is still fresh in your mind; if you wait too long, you will forget most of the things and you will find yourself staring blankly at pages of notes which, at that point, will seem more like hieroglyphics to you than anything else.

𝟱. use ai responsibly ( 🪴 )

artificial intelligence is everywhere nowadays and why not use it to our advantage? of course i'm not suggesting that you let an ai take care of all your tests and essays, it wouldn't make sense, however very often it helped me make a list of key points to develop in a research paper, or gave me excellent ideas and insights for projects. they can also be used to create flashcards, summarize and simplify articles, or create practice tests based on the material you will have to study.

𝟲. delve deeper into your “whys” ( 🌾 )

sometimes when i study i stare into space and wonder why i am studying something that seems completely irrelevant to my path. i'm sure it happens to you too, don't ignore this feeling. don't be afraid to explore themes and topics that aren't clear to you, if two statements seem contradictory ask yourself why, if you don't understand some passages, don't be afraid to ask a question. we study for ourselves, before studying to graduate, to work. there is no shame in not understanding, your intelligence lies in striving to clarify what seems obscure.

[mewtillidae]

with imposter1998 finally over after a short accidental but much needed hiatus, let me just say uh, FUCKING THANK YOU? LIKE WOW? i did not expect you guys to participate and theorize and interact as much as you did, quite frankly i think you guys put more thought into this objectively silly idea than i did lmao

never before in all my internet years have i encountered such a fun, sweet, supportive online fandom. for imposter1998 and for daily kremy as a whole, the support i got from the many like-minded nerds on here was crazy. the tags and comments were plentiful and inconceivably kind, there was daily kremy FANART, @papa-goose-ollie got the whadda hell is a grapefruit one printed on a fucking MUG. shits crazy. but like truly everything about this has been awesome and i dont think i could thank each and every one of you enough :)

however, i think daily kremy ends here for now. made it to 150, i think thats respectable, but yknowwwww interests change and whatnot. however, you can guarantee I'll be back once new eps come out!

anyway enough sap do you guys wanna laugh at me for how horribly shambled together this whole game was behind the scenes (more under cut)

so this whole game was meant to last exactly 1 week, and conclude the day before Halloween. that sure didn't end up happening. probably because I "planned" this all over the course of like THREE DAYS. the extent of my planning was a single sheet of a4 paper and a barebones notes app doc

THE TYPOS WERENT INTENTIONAL. IT WAS SO FUNNY AND EMBARRASSING EVERYTIME SOMEONE MADE A COMMENT LIKE "Aha! Another typo! It's all coming together now guys!" LIKE NOOOO STOP LOOKING AT ME DONT PERCIEVE ME PLEASE😭😭😭😭 it was absolutely on me though, adding that tag mentioning them. it was supposed to be a joke at my own expense and people rightfully took it as a hint, oops <\3

all the puzzles were from my own noggin 👍 but very inspired by a few escape room boardgames like EXIT that I've played before. i also didnt know a solitaire cipher was even a thing. i thought i was being smart when the REAL smart thing to do would've been, uh, a singular google search.

and lastly, in the spirit of daily kremy, everything was made at like 2 am the day prior to posting and i totally winged it everytime. as in i had no clear idea what I'd write, just a bullet point to work off of. work ethic? never heard of her.

no comment on the ending! but you guys are super smart im sure you can have fun thinking abt it :)

[bsverryin]

: ̗̀➛ Stressed reader x Alhaitham

✎ School AU where the reader is stressed out, struggling with academics (reader is very the archer coded) alhaitham is really smart and that's it , there may be grammatical errors but I'm trying my best w proofreading (im doing this instead of studying) I'm sorry this is short and straightforward I can't find the right time to write 😭😭 but🫰 ENJOY!!

"I've never been dissatisfied with a student before, especially you, Y/N. What happened to your grade? I thought you aspired to be the top student academically till the end of the school year? I will not accept this; everyone will have to retake their examinations." The bell rung, signaling the end of the school day; your teacher was the first to go, his angry expression revealing his disappointment.

You headed back to the library to study again, barely eating or sleeping as you were so eager to pass your exams, you didn't know what got you so low, maybe because you were distracted by your own problems, school isn't the only thing that you prioritize, you had to help with chores and take care of your parents as well as younger siblings, it was all too much for you to know what to do first.

here you are, who once thought that the tests were finally finished and you had nothing to worry about, but everyone got so low that everyone had to retake it, so you sat on the library chair and grabbed every book that can aid you during your studies.

You were ready to take a book that had always helped you, however someone else was about to grab it as well, ending with your hands touching against each other's.

"Will you kindly let me borrow this first?" formally said a man with gray hair.

"As much as I want to, I need this book first so I can go home early." You replied, trying not to sound rude that may cause misunderstandings.

"Look, if I needed it tomorrow, I would not borrow it today; there are other books; can't you check them out?" He sighed when he heard your reply.

He cleared his throat before continuing to speak.

"I am not sure who must let it go, but I'm certain that it's not me. You can take this tomorrow, and I guarantee you that this book will be where it is tomorrow." He was as serious as you were when he stated it, and it appeared that you both needed the book at the same time.

"I could suggest more books comparable to this one, but for now leave this book with me."

Looks like he's not going to lose for the book, as you let it go so you can start studying; he offered you a paper full of books that he said were similar to the book you needed, but you didn't bother looking for them because there were so many and you had no time to look for them.

TIME HAD PASSED

You lost track of time since you were studying continuously and were the only one in the library, but just as you were ready to finish, someone opened the door and it was the guy you encountered earlier, He stared at you as if he was perplexed on why you were still there.

You raised your brows as well, glancing at him, who was holding the book you needed earlier. He sat in front of you, confused by his unexpected actions.

"Is it true that your section has to retake the exams?" He asked seemingly out of nowhere.

You nod.

"Are you aware that it's getting dark outside?"

You shook your head.

"Let me give you some advice: get enough sleep and eat healthy. I assure it will make your academics simpler." He said.

"I could help you with that basic calculation problem. You don't have to worry as long as you have the numbers right, if your mind isn't concentrated enough, you should consider going home." He continued, his voice becoming quieter.

"I do know what to do, but I still can't get the answer right." You replied.

He glanced at the calculation problem you had to solve while attempting to answer it himself; he was able to answer it on the first try while you were stuck.

"Calm down and answer the question casually as you would in any other calculation problem. I can tell your mind isn't at ease right now; I'm not sure what's bothering you, but studying won't help either; yes, you have to study, but your health comes first; there is still a way to pass your exams; I can help you tomorrow early, just make sure you get enough sleep and food."

Everything stopped for a minute when he said those words, as if you were comforted that everything would be well.

You accepted his words and headed home to finish some chores and get ready for a nice night's sleep when you remembered you hadn't asked for the guy's name.

He was there at the library waiting for you the next morning, taking time to study with you and being patient. He made certain that you understood everything before moving on to the next topics. He was quite helpful and made things easy for you.

"come to think of it, I haven't asked for your name." You said after studying together.

"Alhaitham." He said with his usual tone.

"Oh! you're the smartest student that everyone was gossiping about."

He tried to hide his smile when you said that.

"I suppose that's what everyone is whispering behind my back?"

[my-castles-crumbling]

Anon Advice Asks - April 10

Outlet anon, outed anon, snape anon (new), episode anon (new), first binder anon

Outlet anon

My trauma wasn't even that bad.

Why am I so fucked up?

Why can't I believe someone would ever care about me?

Why did the world give up on me before I was old enough to spell my name?

How did I survive myself?

-outlet

Hi <3 I need you to remember that a lot of these thoughts are your brain messing with you. You are not fucked up and your trauma is valid. People DO care, and there are people who believe in you <3 and you WILL survive.

I got 100/100 on the research paper from a few weeks ago!!!!!

COngratulations!!! This is truly impressive. Want to write my papers for me? lol

Hey Cas, Outlet anon here.

I have a bio exam in a couple hours that I'm probably going to fail, but oh well. I gave up on studying two minutes in and I've already used up my medication for today.

'No beta we die like men' but it's my GPA

I'll let you know how it goes <3

-

Hey Cas, Outlet anon here.

I got 98/104!!

HA! PROOF! Sometimes, your brain is lying to you and telling you bad things about yourself that aren;t true. Obviously, you're very smart and capable of hard things. I'm so proud of you!

______

Outed anon

Hello Cas, Its Outed Anon here!

I have a pretty light ask but this is something ive been trying to work out recently.

Basically I have a friend - lets call her A for the record - and she's a really nice person! Like a motherly-ironic type. However, no matter how nice she is, she has actually no filter in what she says. Whatever she thinks she will say. While this is a good thing a problem i (and other friend K) have with her is that she never says nice things like that. For example, we all have a mutual friend who is really into her. Not only romantically but also as a person and he geniuenly cares about her and her opinion. His parents are divorced and he has two sisters so his mom works extra hard to afford the food and everything. Because of that she works late hours and the house isnt messy but its a bit chaotic (it actually is far from being messy but theres just a lot of things happening). But his house is really comfy and its our place to just chill. When he wanred to invite us over for his BIRTHDAY she said she wont come because (in her opinion) his house holds (and here i quote) "bad energy" & its dirty. (Its really not)

Im a pagan so im into witchcraft anf the house was really fine, so im not sure where the comment came from but it was very hurtfull for him.

Another thing is that she really likes helping. Shes the type of person to help a random girl whos crying on the street. Its really sweet but it is a bit annoying. Example: i did my homework badly because i really wanted to be done with it and she asked if she can copy it. I gave it to her but didnt really want to because (as i mentioned) it was done wrong (which she knew about) and because last time i gave her homework she gave it to other people which did made fun of me so i was taken aback. Again as i feared she gave the BADLY done homework to other students in out class. I asked her why did she do it if i asked her last time not to do so and she just said she doesnt thinj she did anything bad. After all she just helped our friends by giving them homework. Except it was mine and i didnt want to share cause IT WAS WRONG.

Yeah so i basically wanted to ask for advice how to gently imply to her that her actions & words are actually hurting people and she doesn't realise it. She also never apologise on her own and when she does say 'sorry' then its only because me or K told her she was rude and she just should admit to that.

Ok this was longer then i expected. Hope your week goes well & youre healthy BYE

(ALSO CHAPTER 11 OF TSATS??? ATE?? I LOVED IT SO MUCH)

Hi! Thank you for the love!

Honestly, this is the type of thing that you have to be honest about. You have to tell your friend that she's hurting people. I mean, you can even show her a version of what you wrote here, or tell her something similar: That you know she's caring and likes to help, but sometimes her actions hurt. I know you're afraid of upsetting her, but the alternative is that she continues to act this way, you continue to get hurt, and your friendship eventually fails. It's okay to be honest with people when they've hurt you <3 Just make sure to sit her down and approach the conversation seriously so she knows you're serious. If she gets angry from there, then it might be a sign to take a step back from the friendship.

Sending love!

____________

Snape anon (TW: SA mention)

I'm so confused right now.. so I just saw a Pro Snape post and it was about the prank and how the Marauders were wrong and everything right cool,but my problem is the post had "SA is wrong no matter the victim" (which true) and basically the Marauders fans are protecting perpetrators. And I'm confused cause I've never read the books, so I don't know the exact specifics of the prank, but I've never heard anything about SA up until now. Was everyone not talking about this, or is the person who made this post just lying, or maybe I didn't understand the post?? I don't know. Please clarify if you know what's going on here. I'm so confused.

Hi!

Yeah, I like to think I have a pretty good knowledge of canon and the marauders never SA'd anyone, nor did Snape SA anyone. They were all awful to each other in canon, absolutely, but not like that. The main instance in the books that I can think of is that Merope, Voldemort's mother, used love potion to seduce Tom Senior, Voldemort's father, which a lot of people consider SA. But yeah...people can correct me if I'm wrong, but I can't think of anything. I'm wondering if maybe they were making a comparison? Like saying bullying is wrong, no matter the victim, just like SA is wrong, no matter the victim? Which...bullying is wrong, a thousand percent, but comparing it to SA is wild, imo.

Edited to add: okay someone wrote in to remind me that in the fifth book, in the chapter titled "Snape's Worst Memory" when Harry sees James and Sirius bullying Snape, there is a moment when they have him upside-down and they take off his pants with magic. They then threaten to (but Harry never finds out if they actually) take off Snape's underwear. I re-read it to double check. According to wikipedia, which I acknowledge can often be wrong, "Pantsing, also known as depantsing, debagging, dacking, flagging, sharking, and scanting, is the act of pulling down a person's trousers and sometimes underpants, typically as a practical joke or a form of bullying." It also says "Pantsing can be used as a form of bullying and is technically the crime of simple assault." So it looks like legally, pantsing someone is considered a form of simple assault, not SA. At most, if the intentions were different, it sounds like it might be considered sexual harassment.

I have mixed feelings because I'm not a survivor of SA, so I can;t completely understand. So part of me wants to argue that this is not SA, and saying it is minimizes actual instances of SA. BUT given this context, I can see why someone might personally feel like this is SA because it is very exposing. Legal definitions aside, it was a very horrible and violating thing to do, obviously. I'm open to hearing thoughts, but please send them to my DMs, not in the comments here!

___

episode anon

congrats to me ik it isn’t that big of a deal but today i saw the “This episode contains (redacted) and may be upsetting for some readers.” and decided that I should not read the episode at that time.

I always thought that the TWs were for ppl with traumas or severe problems or phobias but today I decided that, yes, this thing upsets me and I probably shouldn't read it at 6:30 am

This IS a big deal! Trigger warnings are for everyone and you did amazing setting a healthy boundary for yourself! Awesome job!

____

first binder anon

hi!

so funny story i’m kinda out to my parents now

not entirely by choice

it’s kinda complicated, but my moms coworker basically used my new name to her (assuming she knew) because i’m friends with her son.

but it went ok enough

my parents were very nice about it, i think my mom was upset that her friend knew before she did and before i told her (which like— im not super happy about either) but like as far as these things go it went pretty well.

my binder hasn’t come yet (it’s supposed to come in 1-2 weeks, i think it was just shipped?) but i’m really excited!

- first binder anon

Hi! I'm so glad your parents reacted okay, but I'm really sorry the decision to come out was taken from you. That's really frustrating, no matter what the result was, and it's okay to feel upset about it.

Keep me updated, I can't wait to hear about the binder!

[physalian]

What No One Tells You About Writing 8— “Anyone can write a book”

Yes. But actually no. I say “writing is easy” in that it doesn’t take a degree and textbook learning to understand. You can get an English or lit degree if you want, but writing is incredibly subjective. It’s not even like an art degree that has you study different mediums and historical styles. “Writing is easy” in that it’s about feeling, and instinct, and a little bit of common sense. Anyone can do it in that it doesn’t take financial investment to start. Steal a tchotchke pen and paper from a hotel room—you’ve got all the tools you need. I have a communications degree and 9 years of experience, and I'm about to publish my first supernatural fantasy novel.

Writing is not easy, however, if any of the following applies to you:

You want to make enough money to do this full time

You want to appeal to mass audiences

You want to be a NYT bestseller**** or get an adaptation

You want to be regarded as the best of your generation and fill bookstore shelves

1. It takes a healthy dose of self-awareness and a reality check

 I beta’d for an author who thought that he was comparable to GRRM, the author of A Song of Ice and Fire, because both have adult themes in their book and if GRRM can do it, why can’t he? The sheer vastness of the divide between ASOIAF and this awful, awful manuscript wasn’t worth putting into words for the amount I was being paid, though I tried.

Yes, you can write whatever you want. Yes, you can write to please yourself and stroke your ego. You can write the hammiest wish-fulfillment author insert that you desire. But you can’t expect anyone else to want to read or pay money for it. It’s great to have confidence as an author and envision your success, but starting right off the bat with “everyone will love this book because I’m really smart and I love this book” is only going to leave you bitter and penniless.

2. You might be an expert in your given field, doesn’t automatically make you an expert at storycrafting

I really, truly want the above godawful toe wart of a human (who tried to justify pedophilia in his book with the Israel-Palestine conflict) to stop featuring in my writing advice, but I know he’s not the only person out there who thinks like this. You might have a doctorate in engineering, medicine, political science, chemistry, physics, history, paleontology—any field you want. That does not mean you can successfully translate your expertise into a well-crafted and compelling narrative. It means you can write a college textbook lecturing your readers for 300 pages. Heck, if you can't explain what you do like I'm 5 years old, then you're not an expert in your field.

Elements of good storytelling include well-rounded characters, solid pacing, compelling themes and motifs, an engaging main conflict and character arcs and edge-of-your-seat action, romance, debates, and arguments. It’s so much more than “I’m going to write a textbook, but have my character tell it to you, and everyone will love it”.

They won’t.

3. “I’m gonna be a millionaire like JKR”

The frustrating thing about making money writing is that at the end of the day, you are still selling a product. Which means that it doesn’t matter how amazing you think it is, if it’s not what sells. The Fifty Shades series is hardly a poetic epic with deep, meaningful characters and themes, but it sold. It got adaptations. Why? Because it was a product people wanted and its writing style appeals to mass audiences who aren’t entertained by fluffy, antiquated prose. I hated the Divergent books. They soullessly and shamelessly fed off the success of Hunger Games. But they sold because “teen dystopia HP houses” was what audiences craved and what Hollywood was pushing to make movies out of.

Personally I don’t have any nostalgia for Harry Potter and I both wish I did so I could have one more beloved series and fandom to participate in, but also am glad I don’t because of JKR. HP is chock full of plot holes and “fuck it we’ll do it live” worldbuilding and so many concepts that look cool on paper until you really start thinking about it.

JKR didn’t make a million dollars because she wrote the greatest fantasy series. JKR made a million dollars because she wrote a book that sells every goddamn piece of lore for $15.99 or more and collects on all those sweet, sweet royalties. She understood that she’s selling a product, not just a story, selling everything from Slytherin ties and wizarding robes to golden snitches, sorting hats, wands, chocolate frogs, and every other prop seen in the movies.

You sure can chase trends and I’m sure Divergent is somebody’s favorite book and you can hock chocolate frogs. Everyone’s writing goals are different.

4. “But GRRM did it” (or, adhering to genre expectations)

Circling back to this one. Once again, you can write whatever you want, no one is stopping you. However, books are products and if what’s in the summary and on the cover isn’t what’s on the pages, you’re going to upset and annoy your readers. For example, if I slap a chiseled six-pack of man meat on my book cover with flowy calligraphy for the title that reads something like Sex and Pink Champagne and my summary is all about how protagonist girl gets the adonis of her dreams, you’re not going to be happy if, 200 pages in, the plot detours and Mr. Sexy fucks off to sell NFTs.

It doesn’t meet genre expectations.

GoT kicks off with incest and child defenestration. It tells you *exactly* what you’re getting into immediately. You can subvert plot expectations all you want. You can subvert tropes and archetypes and throw in all kinds of twists and turns. But if you’re writing a YA novel and 100 pages in after campfire songs and the power of friendship, Protagonist gets assaulted in a 7-11 parking lot because you wanted to be ~edgy~ you’re going to piss off your readers.

Take Mulan for example. It has a dramatic tonal shift so powerful, the musical stops being a musical because it’s traumatized. Mulan doesn’t drop in the grizzled and horrifying wasteland of a battlefield with thousands of dead soldiers in an episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. It’s already a war movie, the possibility is already there.

If you want to write adult content, then write a book for audiences who are prepared for and want to read adult content. Otherwise you’re setting yourself up for failure.

5. “Okay but it’s not entertaining”

Your first job as an author is to entertain (your second is to do it responsibly imo). There’s millions of books out there—why should someone read yours? Whether that’s entertainment through a feel-good romance or a gut-wrenching tragedy, you need to keep convincing your readers to stay invested in the story, otherwise they can and will put it down to read something else. No one is obligated to read your book to the end.

So, yeah your protagonist might have all the elements of your own personal tragedies and it sure is meaningful to you, but the way you wrote it is incredibly boring and no one will care. It might be the most brilliant heist plot ever conceived, but you focused on all the wrong elements, the pacing is whack, and your protagonist is annoying, so no one will read it.

Very few individual elements can be good enough to carry the entire manuscript and the likelihood of an author being really good at one thing and awful at the rest is slim. Readers can quit a book over the most arbitrary reasons. Do you want to die on a hill of “I’m not changing my annoying protagonist, I’m right and they will see”? They won’t. The arguments authors get into with me over how I hated their protagonist or I told them which parts were boring and dragged because I “didn’t understand the story” are pointless. If it’s boring or confusing or annoying, no one will read it.

6. First Drafts are drafts for a reason

Actually writing is less than half the time and effort spent on getting a book to publication. Probably less than a quarter. The rest of that time is spent editing and rewriting. Some first drafts will be better than others, not arguing that, but your first run through your story has a non-zero chance of needing revisions, even for something as small as typos and punctuation.

You have to edit for pacing and tonal shifts, erroneous details and entire scenes, character inconsistencies and goals. You have to make sure your conversations flow believably, that you hit every talking point that scene requires. You have to make sure your character’s motivations don’t create plot holes and that they’re always on track like a real person and not a creation of your imagination. You have to make sure your action scenes and sex scenes are legible and as thrilling for a reader as they are for you. You have to make sure your worldbuilding is consistent and logical and easy to understand.

Some people outline heavily before starting page one. Some people have a sticky note of “beginning middle end” and run off that. Some have whole folders of different documents to keep track of all their elements. Everyone’s writing process is different, but it is a process, not a one-and-done. It requires revisions, seeking feedback, implementing that feedback, and more revisions until it’s as good as it can be.

Yes, you need to edit. No, you’re not the writing god who penned perfection on your first try. Maybe a piece of your story is perfect on the first draft, but not the whole thing from start to finish. It’s okay that your story isn’t what you thought it would be when you started, and it’s no failing of you as a writer to need edits or even massive changes. It happens to everyone.

7. “Writing is easy, thus it’s not a real job”

Really the notion that creatives are lesser than corporate business people solving problems that their business created. But specifically for writing, the idea that it’s just putting words on a page, thus it’s easy and anyone can do it, so it’s not impressive or deserving of praise and you really need a real job (you probably will because writing doesn’t make much money for most people, but that’s just how it shakes out).

I know ENNS won’t appeal to everyone. I know there will be people who hate my characters, who don’t understand them or don’t agree with their philosophies or find my writing trite and too lean and not ~immersive~. I know there’ll be homophobes out there who won’t even read it but hear about it and make assumptions and will leave me crap reviews. I know it’s not the greatest supernatural fantasy novel ever written.

I’m not in it to make money or get a movie deal and see my merch all over the shelves and get my own theme park. I write so that even one reader might see themselves in my characters and know they’re not alone. So that even one reader has one of my characters as their favorite and that character motivates them to do the Thing or keep moving forward or be brave enough to finally do whatever they’ve been too afraid to attempt before. I want to help people, even if at the end of the day, my writing only helps myself.

Yes I need supplemental income (who doesn’t these days). It’s the way of the world. But I’m doing what I love in my free time and it is a real job because it takes work, and it might not have monetary value but its value to me is priceless.

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 56: Toe The Line

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share

The next day I head right to the office and begin filing papers. Let’s see who can play the system now, Thomas. I will still act as the head of international relations, but on my terms. And my terms are that I do not have to stay here nor involve my part of the work with Lizzie fucking Stark. 

Having brought Charlie along, the young Shelby sits contently by the window watching the passerbys outside.

Knock knock.

“Come,” I call out half-heartedly and continue writing.

“Greetings from overseas.”

I nearly drop the pen. Did he really-?

“Liam?” I gasp. “What on Earth are you doing here?”

It’s him. With the same tall, built frame, same shaggy blonde hair. Wearing a thick wool coat, mittens, and a stocking hat.

My smirking broer cockily lets himself in. “Should ask you the same thing, zus! What the Hell are you doing here?”

I gape at his scatterbrained question. “You know why. I work here. Now why are you here?”

Liam licks his lips and points a finger at me. “I came here to find you. Who’s the kid?” 

“Before you get any far-fetched ideas, he is not mine. Little Charlie is Mr. Shelby’s son and I am watching him.”

Liam takes a better look around Thomas’ office. “You’re always going on about why this place is so great. Gotta say it’s a big disappointment. Never in a million years would I expect to find you in a place like this.”

I roll my eyes. “Says you who stays out all night choosing fights in Queens.”

“Well, this fighter was sent by Uncle Colon to come help you.”

My jaw drops. “You? No, no! I told him we need extra muscle!”

“Yeah. And now you’ve got me.” Liam loses his playful expression and dawns a serious face. “I also have word from Uncle Colon. He’s been in contact with someone called Mr. Gold. Says the Italians have spared us, and that the war is against the Shelbys.” He grabs my arm. “That’s your boss, Verena. It’s time to come home.”

Home. Wonderful, sweet, innocent home. Full of family and people who won’t pull me around like a cheap doll. It’s so simple. I can leave it all behind- Wait. Is that fair? Yes, I’m beginning to grow a souring dislike for Thomas. But that doesn’t mean his entire family deserves the same treatment. Polly, Ada, Finn… I can’t go home until I’m sure the vendetta is settled.

I shake my head at Liam. “No.”

He groans at my stubbornness. “This isn’t your fight-”

“It damn well is. These people have stood up for me. Sometimes far more than anyone in Brooklyn.”

“Stop trying to play the hero-!”

“Thomas plays the hero,” I say sternly. “I’m just the slightly useful background character. And right now the hero needs the cavalry. Which is me, and… you.” I frustratedly hold up the papers I just edited. “Trust me, after all of this is done I am headed straight for the first boat sailing to New York.”

Knock knock.

“Now what?!” I whip my head around and see Ada walk in, looking almost as pissed off as I am. “Ada, what’s going on?”

“Tommy, that’s what’s going on! Oh.” She stops and does a double-take on Liam. “Who’s he?”

I gesture between the two. “Ada, meet my broer Liam. Liam, this is Ada Thorne. Mr. Shelby’s sister.”

Liam extends a hand for a firm handshake. “A pleasure.”

Ada nods. “Likewise. Verena, has you-know-who mentioned anything about the military?”

Smart. She’s smart not to mention his name right now. The thought alone sends my blood boiling.

“He’s been neglecting to tell me lots of things,” I respond tightly. “But I guess the news of impregnating Lizzie isn’t on that list. No, Ada. He hasn’t.”

Liam gawks at my words but doesn’t comment. Ada, however, looks like she has loads to say.

“I was arrested, strip searched, and interrogated about my association with Jessie Eden! I went to my idiot brother and now I’ve learned he’s making arrangements with the military! The mafia isn’t enough, he has to dip his hand into everything!”

Now Liam holds up a hand. “Um, ladies? What is this leading to?”

“Oh, nothing. We just like to rant.” Ada looks over at the boy. “Why is Charlie here?”

“I took the liberty of bringing him since Thomas is never around. I’d rather have him with someone he knows instead of whatever stranger is paid to watch him. Instead of deceiving or sleeping around to improve your lives I’m helping to raise the next generation of Shelbys.”

Ada’s stern face softens. “That’s really sweet of you.”

I avoid her gaze and finish writing up the papers. “It will be Lizzie’s turn in the future.”

“Verena-”

“No, Ada. No more talk of it.” I hold up the file. “This here proves it. We each had our rants, now we move along. Are you attending the fight tomorrow?”

She goes to pour herself a drink. “Yes.”

Liam’s eyes light up. “Fight? You guys have fights here?”

I let out a sigh. Here we go. “Yes, Liam.”

“We’re not all like those proper twats in London,” Ada chirps and holds up her glass. “We like to have fun.”

Liam cracks a wide smile. “Oh, I like you. You’re welcomed back to Brooklyn any time. Can I come too? Need any extra muscle?”

“No.” Before Ada can move to speak I slash a hand across my throat to keep her quiet.

“Aw, come on zus-”

“No, Liam,” I order without any chance of reasoning. “I will not allow you to plunge yourself into this world of treacherous murder. I’ve messed up my own life and I will not mess yours up too!”

“But it’s the perfect cover!” He wines. “You got all these dark-haired Brits and olive-skin Italians running around. Nobody’s gonna suspect a snow-skinned Dutch man.”

“I don’t care! What would Evelyn think? This is none of your business-!”

“It ain’t yours either!” He fights back, ignoring the mention of his wife.

“Quiet! Both of you!” Ada scolds and sweeps Charlie up. “Liam, you have a point. We could use all the help we can get. Verena, you also have a point. Technically none of this is any of your concern. But we deeply appreciate your loyalty. So, let’s compromise.” She hands Charlie over to me. “Liam can help us out and I’ll make sure to yell at Thomas for you.”

I glare daggers at her stern but calm face. “If there is going to be any yelling it will be from me. If he ever asks, I will have plenty to say.”

The time of fight finally arrives. I’ve kept a strict schedule of avoiding Thomas and Lizzie. Thankfully Liam’s visit is a perfect distraction from the sadness pooling in my stomach.

“Do you guys really dress up this much for a fight? I mean, it ain’t a tea party.”

He looks me up and down with a confused frown. For the occasion I choose to wear my new fox coat and a silver dress. On the outside I look confident and more beautiful than I have ever been. I finally look like I belong. But on the inside sits a constant feeling of regret. 

Thank God Liam keeps any other thoughts to himself during the drive to the arena-

“This is the car that Shelby gave you?”

Well… Almost all thoughts.

“Thomas is generous with his employers,” I answer and drive the car smoothly up to the parking lot. 

“Hmm. That is a bonus.”

It is the only bonus I will expect from now on. That is the only thing keeping me from quitting.

“When you return home I will send you with a portion of my wages. For vader.”

Liam doesn’t argue. Although our family does not accept charity we both know that I have been working to earn my pay. I no longer feel guilt for my salary. As we exit the car and make our way to the arena Liam can’t help but look around at the multiple Peaky Blinders watching us.

“I feel like somebody important. Or somebody dangerous. Seriously, why are they looking at me like that?”

“You are a new face. As you know, security has been tight. They assume any new face is a threat. The only reason they haven't interrogated you yet is because you’re with me.”

Liam grunts sarcastically. “Wonderful.”

I spot Ada through the crowd and she waves us over. She herself is wearing a nice cream dress. As usual my hairstyle of blonde braids stands out against her flowing dark curls.

She immediately pulls me into a hug. “Are you feeling better now?”

Her gentle voice makes my chest tighten. “You know I can’t answer that.” I pull away and look to the floor, shaking my head. “Maybe Thomas thinks of me as a sister?”

Ada grips my hand and makes me look up. “I am his sister and he’s never treated me the way he does you.”

She starts to say more but abruptly stops. I look over to see Polly, Lizzie, and Linda approaching from the back. In a quick moment of thinking she makes Liam stand in front of us, hiding me from any reminders of my pain. 

“We will talk more later. I promise. Um, why don’t you go introduce your brother to Bonnie?”

She goes off to sit with them, leaving me to walk with Liam towards the Blinders. And Thomas. Thomas. Oh so Lord help me, it is all I can do not to smack him upside the head!

I keep a stern face. “Hello, Thomas.”

“Verena.” His eyes still hold the same wounded look from last night. Those eyes look between Liam and I. “Friend of yours?”

“This is my broer, Liam.”

It’s funny, really. Thomas may be a few inches taller than me but Liam towers over him by half a foot. Liam holds out a hand and gives him a firm handshake to show serious intentions.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Shelby. My zuster invited me to the fight.”

Thomas gets an amused look. “You like fighting?”

“In Brooklyn you grow up fighting.” Liam gestures to the boxing ring. “Hate to miss this opportunity.”

Arthur decides to jump in and offers his own hand to shake. “You seem like a worthy opponent yourself. Glad to finally meet another Steenstra.”

The back door opens and another group of men walk out. I recognize Mr. Gold and Bonnie, who immediately starts smiling when he sees me. I forget all about Thomas and push past to reach him, with Liam trying to keep up.

“Hi!” I gasp once I reach the small boxer.

“Hi!” He repeats, still with the same grin.

Unlike my fancy getup, Bonnie’s wearing sporting shorts, sneakers, and a loose robe. In quick glances I can see his physique is far from sloppy but he is much less muscular. Bonnie, like Thomas, is so small compared to Liam. 

My brother lets out a laugh, interrupting the moment. “Is he the fighter?”

Bonnie nods and holds out a hand. “Bonnie Gold. Pleased to meet you.”

Liam shakes his hand and regards him with ease. “You remind me of someone back home.”

Of course. Liam knows far too many fighters back home. But he also seems to notice our differences in body language.

“You look really pretty.” Bonnie wrings his hands together. “I was hoping you’d be here.”

His kind words are so refreshing. “Oh really?”

Liam nudges my shoulder. “Looks like he’s soft on you, zus.”

I smack him away. “Liam!”

“No. He’s right,” Bonnie confesses. “Um, is this your brother?”

I glare at Liam’s smirking face. “Yes, he is my broer. And he should know when to mind his own business.”

Liam gives my one final pat on the shoulder and walks back to talk with Arthur. Bonnie shows no sign of embarrassment, but instead seems to wait to see if I will laugh at his words. Could this be it? My way out? Would my family even approve of this? Is this the path I am meant to take?

I want to accept it so badly. To have a life of my own that will not hurt me. And yet… 

“Bonnie.” I take his calloused hand. “You are a very kind, sweet man. You love your father, yes?”

He nods without question. “Yes.”

“And you stand by him?”

“Of course.”

I offer a grateful smile. “I stand by my family too. That’s why I haven’t settled down yet. I’ve been pulled back and forth, like a mangled marionette.” 

I do not outright say it. Bonnie still sees the hidden message. Unlike Finn he does not go on to lecture me on my stubbornness. In fact, he keeps rather calm.

“You love Tommy. Don’t you? That’s why you never look for anyone else.”

All sounds of echoing chatter are drowned out. He still holds my hand. His graceful acceptance only pokes more at my doubt of this decision. 

“I’m sorry,” I whisper and look away.

This is why I cannot take the plunge. Because try as I might, I am not able to detach myself from my previous feelings. My love for Thomas even trumps my grown distaste for him. Never hatred, no. But the longer I know him the more he confuses me. Whenever I picture a future for myself I cannot look past him.

“You don’t have to live a lonely life,” Bonnie says encouragingly. “I may not be who you want but I can still offer friendship.”

Slowly, I look up with the glimmer of hope that I somehow might find a peace of mind. Yes. A good friend. Someone to stable me. Maybe that is what I am meant to start with after all.

“I’d love that.”

Bonnie’s smile widens and he holds out his arms to offer a mutual hug, which I accept with a grateful heart. I don’t even care that Thomas might spot us from across the room. All this time I’ve been worrying about finding love, when really what I need to begin with is finding people I can trust. I’ve only known Bonnie for a few weeks but he has shown me more loyalty than others have shown in a year.

“Mr. Solomons is a good friend. I would not speak up to argue against his contributed fighter.” I pull back with a devious smirk and Bonnie copies me. “But between you and me, I may have placed a small wager on you.”

Bonnie chuckles and nudges my shoulder. “I won’t let you down.”

“Bonnie!” Mr. Gold beckons him to the back room. “Time to get ready!”

He gives me a final wave and goes to join his father. God told me to say no. My place in life is somewhere further down the line, whether I want to wait for it or not.

More onlookers start to take their seats and everyone gathers around the ring, waiting for the fighters to enter. I find a seat next to Liam, who’s still talking with Arthur. Next to Arthur stands an empty chair. Where did Thomas go?

“Zus? You alright?” Liam asks as I sit down.

“Yeah. Just distracted.”

A loud cheer erupts as the two fighters stride towards the boxing ring. The bell sounds and the fight begins. Even in this era of emerging technology and class it still comes down to being entertained by brute strength. It truly is a battle of big versus small. I see Thomas finally appear from the back and go sit next to Arthur. 

But now Polly’s getting up. And Ada. And Linda? What the devil is going on?

“Be right back,” I mutter to Liam, though he is hardly paying attention to me.

I follow them all to the ladies’ room and stop at the door to hear all the commotion. 

“Hey, Linda,” Polly calls. “Welcome to the extraordinary general meeting of the Shelby ladies club.”

Lizzie must be in there too. Of course she is.

I hear Linda chortle. “I’m surprised Steenstra isn’t here. She’s always making a fuss to be involved. Is there spit on my back?”

I replay her words in my head again. Thankfully the noise from the crowd is loud enough to muffle my gasp. That’s what they think? Just because I haven’t married into their family name? Do they expect me to kneel like every other woman and toe the line?

Linda huffs sarcastically. “Who’s the father? Have you managed to narrow it down?”

They must be talking about the new baby.

“Yes. It’s Tommy,” I hear Lizzie mutter.

“Congratulations,” Linda cheers lightly. “You’ve won the raffle at last. I’m sure the American will be devastated when she hears.”

Too late.

“Yeah, she’s a real Shelby lady now, Linda. Just like you,” Polly states proudly and I hear them approaching the door. “Now let’s rejoin our gentlemen.”

I quickly dash back down the hall before they can spot me. No wonder I’ve been feeling stressed! All these women know of is benefiting off of being Shelbys! Well to Hell with that. I have my family, and I have a friend. Tomorrow I will submit my new terms to Thomas and join Liam on the journey home.

I hold my head high, despite my heart wanting to bleed out, and walk back to my seat.

“You’re missing one Hell of a fight, zus!” Liam laughs but then stops when he meets my eyes. “What’s got you troubled?”

Not as perceptive as Abel but not as blunt as Conor.

“‘M fine. Just fine.”

“Take it or leave it, boys!” Johnny Doggs edges the crowd on.

This is the distraction I need.

Round three begins and Goliath comes out swinging. Bonnie’s panting heavily and beads of sweat stream down his face. And- Wait. Where’s Arthur going? And Thomas? They’re not going to watch-?

Thud!

A solid punch sends Bonnie nearly crumbling to the ground. How is he still standing? 

“You can do this, Bonnie!” I yell over the screaming crowd.

He quickly looks at me and gives me a sly wink. In the blink of an eye he uncurls and gives a stiff hit to the bloke’s head. He tiredly stumbles forward and Bonnie swings to deliver the final blow. David defeats Goliath once more.

Liam gives a loud holler and we each shout congratulating cheers at Bonnie. He wipes the blood dripping from his face and gives me a triumphant smile. At this time, in this moment, I can feel happy. Mr. Gold lifts his son up and carries him to the edge of the ring. Bonnie addresses the roaring audience with a look of domination. 

“You’re right, Verena!” Liam shouts and raises a drink I’m sure Arthur gave him. “These folks know how to party!”

Bam!

That’s a gunshot!

I jump to my feet but suddenly Polly appears and holds me back. The grim look on her face tells me something dreadful has happened. No. Not again…

The one behind the gunshot is Thomas. He’s standing in the ring with a gun pointed upwards.

“No one fucking leaves!” He bellows. “My brother is dead! You hear? My brother is dead!” 

Bam!

He shoots the ceiling and we all duck. Liam jumps to cover me but I push him aside to look up at the hurt look on Thomas’ face. Not again. Not another loss. I look down the isle at Lizzie but she makes no move to approach him. Screw you.

“Let me pass,” I order and try to pull my arm out of Polly’s grip.

“Uncle Charlie will console Thomas,” she says slowly. “You need to get somewhere safe. Back to the house.”

She orders for some Blinders to begin escorting me out. I would obey but I am not leaving without my broer.

“Liam-!” I shout as they start dragging me out.

“I’ll be right there! Just stay safe!” He says and heads to where Thomas just disappeared to.

No! No! I cannot just be expected to hide, but it’s no use. The instant we exit the building I’m shoved into a car and we start driving back to Watery Lane.

“Veena, where is Uncle Arthur?” Charlie asks again.

We both wait in my bedroom for the next meeting to begin. Polly, Thomas, and Ada all wait outside at the table. Liam should be back from the market soon. Then we will probably leave… How appropriate will it be if I leave now? This family just lost another dear member.

“He’s…” How am I supposed to deliver the news of death to him again? “He’s-”

“He is in a safe place, Charlie,” Thomas speaks up from the doorway. “Verena? We’re about to start.”

I give Charlie a hug and follow his vader into the parlor. Thomas looks distant, but… Not with mourning like with Grace or John. Perhaps this new blank face of his is a recurring one I will have to get used to. It’s also awkward to think that last time Thomas and I talked alone it was on the topic of his and Lizzie’s child. 

Another empty chair for the family meeting. Michael has come out of hiding to meet us. How is Finn coping with this? I don’t even want to ask about poor Linda. 

Michael shifts his cane anxiously. “Tommy, I’ve been trying to think of words.”

“Don’t,” Polly cuts him off. “Words don’t work. Michael, we’re in a grave situation. Instead of going to Australia we’re going to New York. Where Verena’s from.” 

Michael looks at me and then at his mum. “Why?”

Ada sighs. “Because we have business to attend to in America.”

“Train leaves in one hour,” Thomas mutters gravely and stares coldly at his cousin. “You made a choice. You knew I’d be shot and you chose not to tell me.”

Michael doesn’t back down. “I chose my mum.”

Alright, I cannot afford any more surprises. I can offer my condolences but if there is no news concerning Liam or me then I will begin packing.

Polly clears her throat to calm the tension between the two men. “When all this is over we will all be free to make our own choices.”

Thomas gives Michael a final wave. “Boat sails tomorrow. Now you can go.”

I can’t tell if Michael’s upset or sad. He limps out of the room and Thomas goes to refill his drink. Wonderful. More family drama. More than what I originally signed up for.

@meadows5

[thesilentgirlfromyourclass]

Wrong timeline - K. Seungmin x gn!reader

"Hello, my love!... Oops, wrong timeline."

Genre: fluff, fantasy

Words: 382

Warnings: none

AN: I saw this cute idea on Instagram so I had to write something small! Feedbacks and reblogs are welcome 💕

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

"Ugh, I can't find anything." you ran your hands through your hair out of frustration. You've sat at the library for 3 hours straight trying to gather enough information for the homework your professor gave you yesterday, but things weren't working your way.

Choosing history major was an easy decision, but actually studying it you found out that it is way more complicated than you initially thought. Now you have a week to prepare research papers that covered the development of Ancient Egypt, yet there was so much information that left you confused.

"My mother didn't give birth to a loser." you said in your head and decided to look for another book about the Egyptian people living in that period of time.

You were walking and looking through the shelves with hundreds book on them. When a book caught your eye, you flipped through it and took in the smell of paper as if it were oxygen. Then you reminded yourself that the reason why you stuck with history at the uni was your love of reading and searching.

Opposite of you, there was a boy, who happily hummed a melody and looked through the books like he was searching for an interesting piece. He was handsome for sure and looked very smart. However, his attention was attracted by you and suddenly you felt somebody hugging you tight.

"My love! Hello!" he said.

You jumped, slightly terrified, because who would go to a stranger and call them "love"? Maybe he is mistaken. You tried to free yourself from his gentle grip and leave as kindly as you can.

"Uhm, excuse me, but I think you mistook me for someone else." you said. He then released you and looked at you dumbfounded.

"Y/N, love, have you hit your head? I'm your Seungmin!"

Then it was again your turn to look surprised. He knew your name? Who is he? A psycho admirer? Your heartbeat was faster than the light and you tried your best to keep your composure while looking for somebody to save yourself.

"Are you crazy?! I have no idea who you are and what you want from me, but I kindly ask you to leave me alone!" you argued with him.

He then looked at his watch on his left hand and clapped his hands.

"Oh, right. I am so sorry. Apparently, it is the wrong timeline! See you soon, my love!" he then clicked with his fingers and the memory of that encounter disappeared just like him. You felt like you woke up from a dream, standing there looking at nowhere. Then you heard the steps of the librarian lady that came to let you know she is closing in 15 minutes.

"Oh, sorry, Miss! I lost track of time. University project, you know."

She smiled at you.

"Don't worry, dear. Now you deserve some rest!"

One month later

"Hello! Are you gonna take the book?" you heard a voice speaking at you. You looked up to see a handsome man, maybe a year or two older, asking about the book you were holding.

"I don't think it will work for me. You can take it if you want." you handed it to the boy.

"You are interested in mitology?" he asked.

"Actually, yes. I like reading about the traditions and beliefs of different cultures. It is wonderful how there are so many legends out there, but they all carry the same message!"

He smiled.

"We share the same opinion! I am Seungmin, by the way! I just moved here to study literature at the local university! Nice to meet you!" he offered a handshake.

"Y/N, a history major at the same uni! Nice to meet you too! We will see each other around." you accepted his handshake and smiled.

"It will be a pleasure!" he smiled.

-----------

[triggerhappyhavac-academy]

To: Kyoko Kirigiri, the Ultimate ???

Kirigiri,

I understand your reservations. You don’t need to explain them—I’ve already heard your impartiality loud and clear. But I still believe you may be the key to the group’s survival.

I’m not writing to ask for your loyalty. Nor am I asking you to believe in my approach without scrutiny. Quite the opposite, actually—I want your critical eye. Your skepticism. Your judgment.

This situation is unfamiliar, volatile, and designed to break you down psychologically. What we need is a hypothesis. A framework. A temporary, adaptable system that we can test, observe, and adjust. Like any proper investigation or experiment.

What I’m proposing is not a dictatorship or a dogma—it’s a working theory of survival. And I believe that someone like you, someone who seeks truth above comfort, is uniquely equipped to help improve it.

I won’t ask you to follow orders or compromise your independence. In fact, I suspect you’ll be more valuable because of your autonomy.

All I ask is this: lend us your analytical mind. Participate enough to observe. Help refine what works and discard what doesn’t. Let’s build something worth believing in, together.

- S.C.

P.S. If you must remain unpartnered, I understand. But please consider a provisional pairing—someone quiet, dependable. Chihiro, perhaps. Or Makoto. Just until the dust settles.

...

Out of all the people attempting to advise us, you seem the most worth my time.

At the very least, your dedication intrigues me. Your intent seems clear, ensure everyone survives. You also appear the most knowledgeable in how to achieve this.

It seems everything you've said so far has been very carefully and well thought out, and you clearly know how to make an argument.

You aren't trying to get me to follow along in the same regard as others, you're smart enough to know that won't work. Along with that, your argument is catered towards me specifically. You aren't trying to convince just anyone, you're aware in who your speaking to.

All this to say, it's efficient in what it's trying to do.

I can consider your request, specifically towards what you request of my "analytical mind". I could even think about going along with your suggestion of a provisional pairing. On one condition.

You claim to find my skepticisms to be not only understandable but necessary. I surely hope that wasn't just your attempt at telling me what I want to hear. If you did truly mean that, then you should have no problem with my request.

Let me make myself clear: My consideration comes after your answers.

Give me what I need to know, and in return I'm willing to listen to what you have to say. If that sounds unreasonable to you, then let me know, but it will only increase my skepticisms.

If it is reasonable to you, then I expect you to answer each and every single one of my questions I have for you. You can trust that I will keep this to myself, so disregard any concerns about the others knowing anything you may tell me.

Firstly, I need to know what you hope to achieve in doing this. You're adamant about our survival, and I want to know why that is.

Secondly, how far does your knowledge of the subject spread? I'd hope you're not making this up as you go.

You're at the very least intelligent, that much is clear. You know relatively useful advice for maintaining our safety and you know how to convince others to do what you want. Those are all important, however,

I'm more curious to know how deep that knowlege goes specifically, or if the surface you've covered is all there is to it. And more importantly, how you know all this in the first place or how I can trust that your ideas work as good in practice as they do on paper.

Like I said, I typically see no reason to listen to the advice of you messengers, so you're lucky I'm willing to take you into consideration in the first place. Don't ruin that, prove to me that hearing you out is the right decision.

[theratandcatshow]

Episode 5: TURBO

Summary:

After closing your eyes for a moment on a treetop, you notice a piece of paper lying on the ground with something written on it. This results in a wild beginning for an encryption, thoughts and fears that come up and finally a meeting with the prototype. And a little character development in between. Can it get any worse? Yes, it can.

Notes:

Ahhhh, folks I'm sorry it's taking me so long. It's just that lately I've been looking at my work and thinking things like “there's not enough personality involved” or “there's not enough description of the situation”. Personally, I hate losing the thread when I'm reading, not knowing where I am. That's why I try to keep it simple, with thoughts and extra descriptions. I took a look at my first chapters ever, from the “To Understand The Soul” and “The Genius” fan fiction, and I have to say...it's fucking shit writing. I wouldn't say I'm bad at writing overall, but my very first chapters are so unbelievably dogshit that I wouldn't be surprised if people stopped reading them right away. Well, it doesn't matter. Enough yapping, have fun reading this chapter, and pay attention to the details!

---

Beginning of the last week.

168 hours remain until the Hour of Joy.

You can't sleep. Since you've been here, in Critter Valley, you've highly slept for minutes.

It wasn't that you weren't physically able to do it. Your mind is just... somewhere else. The constant clicking of your internal clock, simultaneously thinking of the plan and the imminent rise guided by the prototype and CatNap: The Hour of Joy.

You're in a pretty shitty position; either you report the uprising of the two, prevent yourself from being dragged into it and avoid a lot of deaths. Or you don't report it, wait and see how everything goes and continue to watch the critters.

No matter what you choose, it looks damn bad for you. I wonder if the people out there would give you protection because you're doing their dirty work. After all, they're relatively fickle, like when you write insider information about critter relationships in the reports.

But there's no light at the end of the tunnel for you, you've already gone through most of the scenarios in your head. Trying to kill CatNap wouldn't be a good idea, because as long as you can get information about him and the prototype, he's worth something.

Just in case... In case you have to defend yourself or simply get the order to kill one of them, the critters.

Then you would slaughter Kickinchicken.

It's not an objective opinion, it's just yours. When you weren't here yet, but the short three days in this training. So finding out everything that is known about the Critter from the outside was a thorn in your side.

Kickin wasn't special, unlike the others at least, in your opinion.

In the episodes, he was always the joker that nobody took seriously. But it's almost the same here. Even though he's often out and about with Hoppy in the wide open fields of the valley, you can read them both clearly. He's an outsider, and it would hardly be noticeable if he disappeared.

Each of them was special in their own way, just like all critters.

DogDay was the leader, even if he often refused to be. He played the dog of the group, and even if you already know that he used to be a human, he seems to have characteristics of one. He smells damn good, has an outgoing nature and hangs out with the others incredibly often, he's hardly ever alone.

CatNap, who seems to have some kind of relationship with DogDay, was more the outsider of the group. You already noticed this in the Smilling Critter cartoon, as he rarely appeared, and when he did, he didn't play a leading role like the other critters. However, CatNap is a danger to your mission, with this prototype he is planning a riot, and this could ruin everything.

Bubba was the smart one of the group. For you, an absolute no-go and a threat to be killed if necessary. He had already stalked you once, and probably already suspects that you are some kind of spy from the people outside. He often hangs out with the others, seems to have cameras and often stays up late reading books. You had already guessed it: Come near me again and I'll rip you apart.

Crafty and Picky were also sometimes outsiders, but they spend a lot of time together. Whether Crafty is painting and Picky is nearby, they are rarely alone except in the house. Crafty often seems to stay up late at night, while Picky often falls asleep too early, and sometimes outside.

Hoppy was...annoying. She definitely has the best hearing of all, by a long, long fucking way. Sometimes, when you follow them into the woods because they're all talking about this whole fake world, she seems to hear the incredibly quiet rustling of the bushes you're moving in. She always turns her head rapidly in that direction, and the others always look at her as if she's crazy, which is a big advantage for you. After all, you are only a few meters away from them, and if someone were to come looking, it would be a problem.

And then there was him, Kickin. The most annoying, stupid and unnecessary of them all. He can't do anything that the others can, doesn't make anyone laugh with his bad jokes and, in your opinion, should finally disappear. He is discreetly out of place in a group where everyone can do one special thing except him. If you could, you'd probably ask the scientists why they created someone like him in the first place.

But in the overall situation it looks unimportant, especially right now.

Although you are not asleep, you have rested for an hour, here, in this quiet place. At the top of the huge tree crown, the biggest tree in the whole forest.

It went like this: you opened your eyes, disgusted by the metallic feeling, and stood up. Then you cracked your limbs, the unpleasant 'click' sound, which sounded more like a doll, reminded you of the whole situation again.

There was a note there.

But you didn't grab it straight away. A quick glance to the right, left and upwards. Then you listen for thirty seconds to see if there is anyone nearby or if there might be something like a quiet message from the scientists coming through your ears. Because nothing came and you didn't see anything, you finally pick up the note.

It read:

T U R B O

W hvwby mcif dcksfg ct cpgsfjohwcb ofs ibweis, Foh.

Cqn xcqnab mxw'c bnnv cx twxf cqjc hxd'an j byh, fqrlq rb j pxxm cqrwp.

Z'cc fwwvi pfl r uvrc kyrk nzcc yvcg lj sfky.

Fkyjw fqq, dtz uwtgfgqd bfsy yt pstb bmt dtz bjwj gjktwj ymnx...wfy.

- LNKPKPULA

The only thing you think when you see the paper is, "What is that?".

Standing in the middle of the forest, on both feet and standing up straight, you look around again. No one to the left, no one to the right, but something is wrong. This feeling that you're standing in the wrong place, and when you see yourself right here, with this paper in your 'hands'.

You don't need a minute, if at all seconds. It happens automatically, you tense your hands so that your claws come out, which you can't see under the long gloves but don't change anything. Then you tense your tail, you feel the metallic sensation with the next step and have to try hard not to gag. But within a second, you tear your claws into the tree, pull yourself upwards and push yourself further and further with your sharp tail until you are sitting on the treetop again.

Is this a message? Is it written in another language or what is this?

No matter how you think about it, it was pure gibberish. The letters don't fit together logically, the heading on the paper made no sense and everything looked like it was written by a toddler.

But then, the very next time you look at the white paper and the black ink, you understand.

It is encrypted.

You immediately pull out your own notepad from your backpack, wipe over the pages with your notes about the individual critters, and finally land on a free page. You hastily grab a pen and place the two pages on the crown of the tree. You lean against the trunk, spread your disgusting, unnatural-feeling legs and look at the page again.

The text is encrypted, but in what way? It looks like random letters thrown around, it doesn't make a bit of sense, and there's nowhere to start.

You look at the page lying on your legs. The Black Tine had already dried a long time ago, but you go over and confirm what your eyes have already told you.  You look at the heading.

Turbo. Turbo? Is that a reference to something? Maybe Hoppy, because she's the fastest of the critters? Or maybe to one of the scientists from outside? Is one of them called Turbo? Or maybe spelled 'obrut' backwards?

This brought to mind the next problem you would have to solve:

Who left me this encrypted message?

You think, but somehow no answer really seems right. You may be clever, but you can't just string together facts that don't exist to come up with a solution. Somehow, however, only two people seem plausible:

The scientist who looked after me, out there. Or the prototype.

Looking at the paper, you notice something that you should have seen beforehand based on your powers of observation. In the last paragraph, or the last word of the paper, there was a minus sign, it looks like a signature.

LNKPKPULA. L-N-K-P-K-P-U-L-A. It has just as many letters as the word 'prototype'. Wait a minute...

Could it be!

You look at the paper again, but this time at the heading: Turbo. The word was obviously scrambled, but it looked like a clue to you. Because when the signature reads the word 'prototype', you already have the first clue.

From LNKPKPULA to Prototype.

You let the pen in your hand sink slowly to the blank page, slowly and surely, although your mind is already going ahead, your hand follows.

4 letters back! That must be it! L to P are 4 positions in the alphabet! It is a Caesar cipher!

Your hand glides over the still blank paper and smears it. You are completely in the flow, your ears pricked up for your surroundings, your arms for the perfect movements when deciphering and your legs for holding the paper.

L (12) → P (16) → +4

N (14) → R (18) → +4

K (11) → O (15) → +4

P (16) → T (20) → +4

K (11) → O (15) → +4

P (16) → T (20) → +4

U (21) → Y (25) → +4

L (12) → P (16) → +4

A (1) → E (5) → +4

Your eyes catch sight of the paper, your mind is already thinking, while your body barely moves. There is something like a cool breeze on the back of your neck, which brings your consciousness back to the here and now.

So the prototype, why does he write in encrypted form? Is he worried and afraid that someone will find the note before I do? No, I don't have time to think about it, first I have to decrypt the entire document!

For anyone, the view would probably have been surreal: You, a rat-looking critter, on the top of a giant tree with a killer look while you scribble on a paper like a madman.

Your tail hung slightly from the crown, but you were far too busy to pay the slightest bit of attention. Every letter, every punctuation mark was burned into your brain as you slowly but surely deciphered each character of the message.

It would have taken anyone else hours to decipher the pattern and then every single letter, but you're not just anyone.

And that's exactly what you wanted to find out, who exactly were you before this rat? Why were you turned into a rat and the other critters into these weird cartoon characters? What was the point of it all, apart from sales for the humans out there. Were you perhaps one of the people out there who saw something they shouldn't have?

And now, are you being monitored while you decode this message? Will they kill you for it? Torture you until you give up every single piece of information you have about the prototype? What did the prototype do that they left him as a metallic monster? Or you, that you are a rat freak with pieces of metal on your tail and sharp claws?

Or is it all, exactly that, just a dream? A dream from which you can't wake up or don't want to wake up? And even if all this isn't real, the huge fields of grass, the bright sun and the colorful sky above the clouds, what's the point of it all? Is it the calm before the storm? Before your death arrives? Or were you already dead?

That was exactly your rambling thoughts while decoding the message. Everything, really EVERYTHING seems so fake. Your mental status is getting worse and worse, and maybe, just maybe, you are afraid of what your body will do automatically when you are mentally at the end.

And that was the moment, not only when you finally finished decoding the message, no.

It was also the moment when you could understand the critters, a mixture of compassion and understanding on a level far above that of an ordinary person.

But finally, after 19 minutes and 46 seconds, you had finished decoding the prototype's message.

It was difficult to first crack the pattern, and then to decipher the most important letters, resulting in whole sentences that finally made sense. A cramp in the hand, like students when they write an exam for too long, stiff legs like an athlete who has just run a marathon, and an empty head, like someone who has just come from a parent's funeral.

Your eyes, half open, finally wander over the full sheet with your writing. No more logically incongruous letters, clear words with a clear message behind them.

F L A W S

I think your powers of observation are unique, Rat.

The others don't seem to know that you're a spy, which is a good thing.

I'll offer you a deal that will help us both.

After all, you probably want to know who you were before this...rat.

- PROTOTYPE

You may not like to admit it, but the encryption was damn clever:

Every single sentence and paragraph is coded according to the heading. So a shift from T to F is +14 letter positions and the first sentence was constructed with this exact shift. But you weren't stupid and wanted to test every way first, which is why you tested the letters 'FOH' first. And your theory was correct, with the shift the word 'RAT' came out.

So you carried on, quickly deciphered the most important letters and brought the sentences to a logical conclusion.

But what was the point of the message? You already knew that when you deciphered the signature 20 minutes ago.

A meeting.

Between you and the prototype. He seems to want to make some kind of 'deal' with you that "will help us both". Of course, you don't trust him one bit, especially after you saw and heard how he treated CatNap. It was pure manipulation, which CatNap, the idiot, didn't even seem to notice.

But he had apparently had something to do with the prototype in the past, he called it 'Theodore'. Maybe you could blackmail CatNap with the name too? Force him to say it, otherwise you'll go to the other critters and tattle.

But what's important right now is where exactly the prototype wants to meet. Maybe at the same place as with CatNap, or maybe not.

Should I make my way to the spot where he met CatNap?

No , my biggest advantage right now is that neither CatNap nor the prototype know that I know when the Hour of Joy is happening, or that it's happening at all. Neither party knows how much I know, and the prototype is dangerous.

If he's from the outside world, he definitely knows where I am by observation, it doesn't have to be that he knows that I was secretly at the meeting. I have to take advantage of that!

I will stand above that flock of pigeons, and I will control them!

Your eyes fall on the paper again, you haven't really moved from your position, after all, something was still missing.

He certainly doesn't want to meet up in the normal area, where there's a risk of encountering a critter. Certainly not in the Dark Forest either, so somewhere on the edge. But where exactly? The area around the edge of the forest is far too long to simply search, and anyway, when does he want to meet?

You turn, shove your right arm into your backpack and pull out the map showing the whole of Critter Valley. As you pull it out, you feel a slow headache coming on, right above your eyes.

You ignore everything around you, place the map next to the decrypted message and do your best, with all your intelligence, to find any position on the map.

Turbo

Turbo.

Turbo.

T = 20

U = 21

R = 18

B = 2

O = 15

If I assign a number to each letter, then use it as a reference for coordinates, it should work.

It was a guess at best, at least the word turbo made sense in contrast to the whole encryption. Your head feels even worse than before, you haven't thought as much as you have just now in the last few weeks, especially since the critters were all easy to watch.

Then the X-coordinate would be T + U, i.e. 20 + 21 and that is 41. Y would then be the sum of the last two letters, B + O are 2 + 15, i.e. 17 for Y. But what about R? Either it is a height coordinate or simply for a more precise point.

But as you read through the whole message again in your head, letter by letter, word by word, you also read the coordinates off the paper. And as is the case with a coincidence, an absolute coincidence, you don't understand it yourself.

You read the 'R', automatically as 'Right Now', out of pure chance and your tiredness. But even without the indicators of your mental state, no other options were really open to you than to interpret and hope for something pure.

Your gaze lands on the map, the coordinates were far away, on the other side of the valley. Where the employees come at night and exchange the things you wrote down in your notes.

Maybe...Just maybe it was some Force of Nature that chose you. There were so many possibilities that you just didn't understand it, didn't even get the message decoded or something else...Maybe it was fate.

And that's exactly what you're going to find out.

If you were already paranoid, tired and absolutely drenched in adrenaline before, it was even worse now. Before you set off, you had thought about whether it was really the right idea to go. But what did you really have to lose? Does he want to tell the Critters your real identity as a spy? Then you tell them with the Hour of Joy, simple as that.

But all the pressure, panic and adrenaline that came up when you were thinking was only because you were already thinking about the situation.

But now it was real. Every few seconds you had the feeling that someone might jump out of the nearest bushes, fire a shot or let out a scream. The forest had never been so damn quiet, you couldn't hear a single sound apart from your footsteps.

The green grass, the gray stones, the brown trees and the sun above you are a sign that you are still close to the valley. The Dark Forest is still too far away.

Every few seconds you pull up your gloves as if you had to attack someone. Even unconsciously, your hands were both tense and so your claws were out, but you couldn't see them because of them. You are quite happy that you found these gloves.

"Rat..."

You almost jump in fright like a cat. You turn around quickly and are confronted with nothing but darkness, from which a certain tension comes towards you. You don't see it, the prototype, the darkness takes any light that was in this happy world and swallows it up.

The only thing that showed you he was here was the voice. Just like the observed meeting between the Thing and CatNap, it was rough and sounded more like a machine. It doesn't help that you don't hear a shape to the voice.

"So you...decoded it." The voice gives you chills, a shiver that runs down your spine, telling your instincts that you absolutely must take a step backwards. You do so immediately, and say your first words since you've been here in Critter Valley.

"It wasn't hard." That was all you said, perhaps even with a slightly lowered voice, after all, your normal pitch would seem like a child in contrast to his.

"For someone... like you." That's all the voice says, but now at least you can see something in the infinite darkness that lies before you. This metallic hand slowly but surely sticks out of it, your eyes follow the fine fingers as they move.

"And who exactly would that be?" Bingo. You can steer the conversation directly in the direction you want, find out what he knows.

"I'll tell you...if you do me...a favor." The voice becomes even rougher than before, as if he doesn't have much time.

"And the would be?" You're getting really tired of this small talk, the first day with the critters where you didn't talk and now that you're both just answering as briefly as possible.

"You have to help CatNap...convince the others to join an uprising." That's the longest sentence you've heard him say so far without pausing again.

"What kind of Uprising?" You say, full of confusion and inner conviction that he doesn't know you were eavesdropping on him and CatNap's conversation.

"You already know that."

That was the moment when you felt like you were finally dead. Your eyes widen, your legs tremble slightly, your breathing quickens and your heartbeat becomes so loud that you can hear it through your ears and it absolutely drowns your thoughts.

The adrenaline doesn't even let you think, let alone fully understand the situation. So now you were in his Mercy, your lie was badly received, and even worse... The power of this conversation now fell into his mechanical fingers.

"I already know...How it will all end...Theodore won't make it and that's...a shame." You're only half aware of the words, the rest passes you by and disappears into the huge forest behind you. The fingers move slightly, making a 'come closer' gesture, which you don't return. "Besides... I have some information for you... which is incredibly valuable... but which you won't write in your report."

Information that is worth a lot, but that I can't write in my report? What exactly does he mean?

"And that information would be?" If your shaky voice, your gasping breaths and your hunched posture didn't already give it away, you were extremely nervous. You weren't even that nervous when you were about to be caught spying by one of the critters. Because there you always had the chance to somehow talk your way out of it or simply disappear, but right now, the situation was not in your hands at all, but in this mechanical one in front of you.

"The Critters... want to break out of here in four days."

Dawn of the Last Four Days.

96 hours remain until the outbreak and 168 until the Hour of Joy.

---

Can it get any worse? I mean, your mental state, the prototype knowing about your eavesdropping and the fact that the Smilling Critters want to break out? Oh yes, it can! Well, the next story to get an update is my Hold on fanfiction, after all, it's time to write about the year class trip. (in between, of course, another chapter for the Arcane Story, the second season is coming soon and I really need to finish everything). I hope you are all doing well! Leave kudos and a comment!

[chiewse]

My Inner Child is Dumb and the Adult me is Ambitious.

chiewse

I graduated from primary school as an honor student, acing my every test, staring at the red colored ink encircling the score 50 out of 50, with a 'Very good!' written on its side. Plastering my smirk, thinking I freaking want to grow up already and be successful. My science teacher once had me standing with her side—nah, not because I am naughty, but to make my classmates clap for me since I did the presentation and she graded me a 100. I want to be an astronaut someday.

Holding Barbies with both of my hands, I stared at their clothes; they're pretty. That's when I started falling in love with art. Sketching designers, landscapes, faces of people that I only met in my imaginations, places that don't even exist, and me with a smile on my face—that little did she know, will soon never appear again. My grandfather's face lit up. "Wow, you are so talented, aren't you? Why don't you take art someday, someone who paints?" A giggle escaped in my mouth. "I want to be an artist."

Life was easy.

And the child is so dumb to believe that life will stay that way.

My forehead is knotted on the piled sheets of paper; it's a compilation of my achievements. I was seventeen, reminiscing about the last time I was good at everything. She knows how to draw and play with words; she's smart, full of energy and happiness; she is someone to whom you can give ten tasks and will finish them in a day, but now she can't even brush her hair and never leave the bed. Where did everything go wrong?

I was once full of smiles until life drained me hard.

My inner child is so dumb to believe that she can be an astronaut who will travel the universe with her silly spaceship, but the current 21-year-old adult here is very tired and exhausted without even doing anything. I want to be a chef. The 7-year-old laughed while helping her aunt make a flan, but all she did was mix the egg and milk. It's funny, but the laugh was genuine. A chef? I don't eat anymore; a cup of coffee every day is enough. I also once fooled myself into thinking I would be a doctor someday. "The medical field fascinates me!". This stupid girl even enrolled herself under the Nursing Department; however, the karma knocked her back into reality real quick and dropped her out of school after a year for having a financial crisis. A doctor? You can't even manage your own mental health first.

The adult me is so ambitious, dreaming of hundreds of professions to be someday when she was a kid; her current self is now aiming for something that is almost impossible to achieve, harder than mathematics or writing essays; she now wants to feel genuinely happy.

[nighthawkers]

s+t in paris jan ‘24

returned to paris with the love of my life at the start of january this year. it seems we’ve made a habit of running away to this city every january. i hope this habit turns into lifelong tradition.

we celebrated 10 years of friendship (our tin-aversary) just a few months earlier in sept ‘23.

recently i’ve found myself reconnecting and reconciling with parts of myself i seemed to have unknowingly buried years ago. in february, i reached for a diary that i used to keep when i was 14. tens of scribble-on leather-bound pages that i had hidden away out of fear of confronting the traumas of my past lives. however, this year, reaching out for it felt so simple. i led a revolution from my bed when i began to carefully flick through the pages by my fingertips. i may have been peering in hesitantly at first, but soon enough i was sucked in, charmed by her teenage wit. she was so… smart, funny, charming and so fucking headstrong. i see her forming parts of her identity with each page i turn. she had just watched mermaids (1990) and carved ‘winona forever’ on the page in black ink out of sincere admiration for charlotte flax’s catholicly coquettish style. she deliberates the idea of nirvana and wonders how those who believe in an afterlife and have strong faith in God can still be scared of death. she writes her desperation to have more band tees and is confident that, if called upon, she will always be able to name 5 songs from the artists she pragmatically chooses to wear proudly on her chest. she jots her 10-step plan for running away, a how-to guide in order to get out swiftly, efficiently and quietly in the night to start a new life somewhere far, far away. it should be more painful, but the feeling is… something i’m still unable to describe. perhaps bittersweet. seeing these words from my past-self reminded me of her pain. god knows it was so hard being 14. however, something strange happens to me. when the nostalgia would typically be all-consuming for me, i am instead engulfed in a complete awareness of my physical being. i feel the skin of my knees brush my starchy duvet as i sit cross legged on my bed. the pads of my fingers feel the grit of the moleskin’s paper. my breaths go deep into my chest and exhale smooth and steady from parted lips. i’m actually alive. i pay silent homage to the girl this diary used to belong to and hope my telepathic message of ‘thank you for keeping me her long enough to see this’ somehow reaches her through retrocausality. as i send my tribute, a brighter light begins to blind me from the page. i see the violent etchings of a T, an A and a Z. in capital letters, as always. underneath reads: dear safa, i really really really really really really like you”. i realise with every account of me, there is also an account of you. albeit, most mentions are referential only by your now-defunct teenage pseudonym, but where i saw your name i also saw mine. both aliases created so that we could escape the obligations of endurance that came with being born as ourselves. oh, how those names still felt like us. i read an account that i wrote exactly 10 years ago to the day, 15th february 2014, and, my darling girl, all i can think about is how far we have come. 10 years of alienation, reinvention and self-discovery, 120 months of the same bob mortimer youtube compilation, cd mixtapes and soul-bearing love letters to one another (i’ve kept them all), 3653 days of saving pocket change to spent at hmv to now spending freely as we lounge in hotel rooms eating tiramisu and doing face masks in paris. a decade of having you by my side. in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, til death do us part. a.h.k and jasey rae.

we will always run down the street with stars in our eyes, hand in hand, forever.

[mistydeyes]

HHHHHHHHIIIII 😭😭😭 is it okay if I can request a MWII pair-up? thank you if you do this and just wanna add that ur writing is so GRJRJRKKKSL

Appearance:

I am a Mexican girl with a medium beige skin tone and a bunch of moles around my body. I have dark brown eyes with long lashes. Dark-ish brown hair that is type 2C and a medium length. I have dark circles some are kindaaa deep. I wear red glasses (my vision is crappy asf). I’d say I’m about 5’3 💀💀. Clothing wise, I really like a Twlight-inspired look, but also loveeeee Chicano-styled clothes.

Personality:

I’m a Leo and INTP. I’m mostly an ambivert, since I switch up constantly depending on who I’m with. Usually, I’m more extroverted, outgoing, and chatty around my friends. If I don’t like somebody–or don’t know them well enough–then I’m quiet and a bit distant. I daydream a lot, and can get easily distracted, and sometimes I zone out when I feel sad or nervous. I’m (thankfully) funny in the words of my friends, and can be a compassionate, caring, and shockingly smart person. At the same time, I’m the type of person who will overthink about having to stand in the front of the class to speak. I also have a bad case of anxiety LMAO

Hobbies/Likes/Skills

Some of my hobbies are drawing and writing, and listening to music while daydreaming. Usually when I’m writing, it’s more like journaling all of my thoughts into a piece of paper. I like a bunch of colors, but a lavender purple (including the scent) has to be one of my favs. My interests are honestly around learning about mental illnesses or anything related to psychology. But, I’ve always had a childhood hyperfixation on SPACEEE (and sometimes the ocean). Some of my skills are bilingualism (English, obviously, and Spanish), the ability to play the violin, running reaaal fast, and being a comedic genius (can you tell I’m lying to myself). OH OH and my fav–sea–animals are the jellyfish and manatee 🫶🫶. And if it helps, my fav artists are TV Girl, Lana Del Rey, and Cults!!!

Okay that’s about it I’m SO SORRY if I made it long. Hopefully you enjoyed reading that long ass paragraph(s). Thank you SO MUCH if you do end up paring me up with one of the lil meow meows, and hope you have a good rest of the day/night 🫶🫶 take ur time!!

Johnny "Soap" Mactavish

How you met: Civilian You adored spending spring and summer in your home country. You didn't care what anyone said, Mexico was a little heaven on earth especially during the warmer months. Today, you decided to walk down to the local street market with some of your friends. You smiled as you walked amongst the various stands and watched as patrons purchased a variety of items. As you walked down another corridor of stands, you were attracted to one that sold flowers. You greeted the elderly stand owner and looked at the gorgeous array of bouquets. You finally settled on a beautiful arrangement of lilacs, hydrangeas, lilies, and your favorite, lavender. "Gracias," you gently said as you paid a fair price for the bouquet. You then continued on your way and tried to find your friends. However, you were distracted by someone arguing with a stand owner over the price of mangos. "This is bloody robbery," he exclaimed and you could see how sweat bounced off his arms which were perfectly showcased by a summer tank top. "This is the final price, sir," the owner firmly responded. You made your way to the stand as you were familiar with the owner. When he saw you approach, he smiled at you and warmly greeted you. "Diez 10 mangos para mi por favor," you happily said to the ire of the man next to you. As the owner prepared your fruits in a bag, you gave the man next to you a small smile. Once you were all paid, you knew your family friend had given you a discount. You took out 5 mangoes from your bag and gently handed it to him, much to the chagrin of the owner. "Thank you, lass," he replied in an accent reminiscent of Scotland or Ireland. "Enjoy your fruits," you remarked before continuing your shopping.

A peek into your relationship: After you helped Johnny with his precious fruit, it wasn't long until he found you again and asked for your number. That moment sparked a long distance relationship with constant texts and FaceTime calls. This time, you were flying on an 11hr flight to London. After some much needed rest, you and Johnny left the hotel to go to a museum he had planned and researched by himself. "Where are we going?" you asked as he helped to navigate through the winding streets and rail lines. "You'll see, bonnie," he simply replied and kissed your forehead. After the maze of directions, you finally arrived to your destination, the Royal Observatory. It took about 1 conversation for Johnny to realize your love for space and astronomy and he knew this was a perfect destination. You felt like a child in a candy store as you navigated through the exhibits and had him take pictures of you next to every picture of the galaxy and historic telescopes. "I saved the best for last," he said as he led you into a large room. You both sat patiently as you waited for the show to begin. Suddenly, the room grew dark and the crowd hushed as the ceiling above you turned into a gorgeous display of stars. Your eyes lit up at the sight and through the reflection of your glasses, Johnny could tell you were taking in the wonders before you. "A view of the stars for, mi estrella," he joked and besides his very poor attempt at Spanish, you blushed at the comment. Before he could say anything more, you quickly shushed him as you attentively listened to the musings of a scientist presenting. He simply laughed and threw his arm around you, happy he had planned an impressive date.

[larinelle]

as they say, do what scares you. it is never worth pursuing if it doesn't.

i feel like floating. trapped, even.

i always thought i'd make it everywhere. i was a learner at heart. i am very passionate in indulging myself in different topics in pursuit of knowledge. i write, read, and watch with hopes of getting my mind filled with new information.

ever since i was a child, i was regarded as the smart one—the card of the family. i graduated kinder with flying colors, which was the reason why i was promoted a bit earlier to grade school. i was just a silly five-year-old kid when i stepped foot in elementary school—too small, too fragile. too naive.

my journey, like any other stories, started small. i was always crying and i cant afford to sit inside our classroom without bawling my eyes out. i would always scream for my mom and tita.

but then, calendars turned. time passed. i was getting my own rhythm in this dance im swaying into. i topped my class, received praises, and from there, i knew id maintain that standing and sacrifice some more just to hear those whimsical compliments once again.

and so, i pressured myself. i always need to do good. my family has been pressuring me since i was in elementary. for that, being the class valedictorian of our batch, i feel compelled to aim even higher. i dreamed of getting into a prestigious school, the one everyone was vying for. the high school in the middle of the busting city, the talk of the town that once seemed gigantic for me—sci high.

with bountiful efforts and dozens of papers and inks wasted, i got in. not because i did well in the entrance exam, but because my grades are high enough to reach the quota. the exam was cancelled because of covid, so our cards were the sole basis of whether we'd pass or not.

and honestly, no matter how grateful i am for that, i still wonder if things would change if the exam commenced.

alas, there i was. just like in elementary, i also started small. grade 7 was a huge turning point to me. i fluctuated. i was lost. my priorities got tangled, and i almost hit the abyss.

it was the day after my birthday when i got woken up by a loud yell. my tita, or my mother, scolded me because my adviser told her about my piling backlogs. i was immediately ashamed of myself. i know i had my lapses and i'm completely wrong for being lazy and not attending school.

however, what washed my senses away was what my mother said. i graduated elementary with flying colors. then suddenly, i was losing my touch. i am a sucker for learning. but then, what learning for me was not as fun as it used to be. it was starting to feel like a chore.

from then on, i always made sure id pass. i did not let my grades go down anymore after receiving my first 80. flat 80. but i guess, that just had to happen for me to return to the way i was before.

but each year, the burden is getting heavier. crushing, even. i instilled in my mind that i have to be at the top for my family to be proud of me, although they did not say it directly. i know they have their own sets of expectations they want me to fulfill. they were hoping. they were thinking that it's either the top or nothing when it comes to me.

because that's what i made them think. that's what we are used to.

and maybe, that's not entirely wrong. for after years and years of exploring, i realized that academics is the only field where i can excel. it is the only field that gives me the feeling of being first. this is where i shine.

but alas, all i did was to be a stranger, even to my own self.

my last year was a rollercoaster ride of extreme emotions. i learned a lot. i cried a lot. i was filled with sorries, regrets, hatred, jealousy, forgiveness, and acceptance. i know i should vie for the top. but before i surrender to the placid night, a thought always creeps up to the lengthiness of my spine.

i am never good enough. i will never be good enough.

i am too small. i did all of that, not because i'm smart, but because i am being driven by this greed for the first spot. i did that because my own expectations were enough to send me reeling over the thought of getting a grade lower than what i'm used to.

and so, i consumed myself. i tried and tried. i waged through thick papers, large files, and even through the vast web. i did not let myself falter because ive already reached this far.

but i knew that the one thing holding me together is so close to snapping. and when that happens, i know.

id discard everything again.

months then flowed and i found myself entering a new high school. after weeks of pondering, i realized sci high might not be for me anymore. and so, i ran away. i stuck to the strand, which was persistently tugging at my strings, and sought after it.

and honestly, as someone who was from a prestigious school, i was expected to do well, especially in the field where we are known to be good at.

studying at cabhi was no easy feat. i had to explore it myself. it was entirely new to me. the school, the mechanisms, the way of teaching—everything hits too far from home.

but i had found ways to be gentle to myself. i had found ways to enjoy studying again.

however, no one told me i'm exchanging my soul in the process.

i changed. over those months, i changed. i became tougher. happier. and though i hate to admit it to myself, i became... greedier.

i wasnt feeling like my old self anymore. i reached the point where id be mad at my classmate for scoring higher than me. for having fun. for being better than me. i feel like im betraying myself, because i know right before i stepped in, i promised: everyone's going to be better than you. there's always someone who's going to excel better in other aspects. and you have to deal with that.

because if not, i know i'm going to lose way before i even win.

hardworks paid off, and i had the privilege to speak before our batch during our recognition. my family applauded. but that wasnt enough to make me feel they are proud.

and now, i'm writing this as i sit in our bedroom, with my back hurting from crouching and lying, and with my study progress blinking at me though my phone, which is placed atop my annotated maroon bluebook.

i didnt know why im even typing this. maybe because there are many things running all over my head? maybe because there's an even bigger rant rising from my chest?

i don't know. but i've always felt like i'm bound for something greater.

i'm bound to enter another journey once again. and i won't stop myself from reaching the highest dream i'm daring to reach.

from the past days, i've received sidelong glances, faint smiles, and teasing chuckles whenever i told them that i want to study in manila during college. hell, i've always wanted to be away from this hole.

fate must be cruel. i will always hate the feeling of being trapped. or being caged. of being too small for my dreams.

i just cried myself to sleep yesterday because doubts are clouding my mind. i don't know if i should even continue doing what i'm doing because everything feels too hazy. everything feels too far.

but right now, although uncertainty is blanketing my soul, i know i must still do my best to conquer that dream. i have come too far now. my experiences have shaped me into someone who is capable of withstanding anything. i have always been a dreamer, and i won't be stopping—not until i have achieved that dream.

i know i'm bound to enter UP and be one with the masses. or at least, study in a university away from my hometown. away from this province.

with or without their support.

— from kat, 051724.

[softspiderling]

hooked from hour one | j.h.s.

Summary: He watched as Rooster took you around, introducing you to everyone and Jake’s eye twitched. The two of you looked awfully comfortable around each other, with tons of physical contact. You and Jake hadn’t been dating long, but he thought that you were on the same stage as him when it concerned your relationship. Were you cheating on Rooster with him? But you wouldn’t do that, right?

OR, the one where you share a mutual friend, but are unaware of it

pairing: jake “hangman” seresin x reader

warnings: contains smut, minors dni

word count: 6,4k

author's note: omg this beast!!!! So glad to be finally able to share this with you! Been thinking and writing this fic for so long and I think I am finally happy with it now! Mind you, this will kickstart a verse, aptly called wingman's best friend (more on that later). Pls pls don't forget to leave a nice comment/reblog if you liked it, it would mean the world to me!!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

From the moment Jake had stepped into the bar, he had his eyes on you. The way you were sipping on your drink, your fingers around the straw, the way you threw your back in laughter as your friend said something, the way you raised an eyebrow at every man that tried to hit on you and your friends.

Absolutely captivating.

Initially, Jake hadn’t planned on taking anyone home, just wanting to have a drink by himself, but he quickly changed his mind when he saw you. He wasn’t sure on how to approach you at first, however. Jake was usually a hit with the ladies and the gentlemen, but your confidence and the way you shot about just every man down that even stepped in your vicinity clearly put a dent in his confidence. He wasn’t about to ask you out just to be rejected. He had to play it smart.

“I got another whiskey on the rocks for you,” the bartender suddenly said, sliding the drink across the counter, the ice cube clinking against the glass.

“I haven’t even finished my first,” Jake answered, somewhat confused and the bartender swung a towelette over his shoulder, tilting his head to the right. 

“It’s from the lady over there.”

And sure enough, you leaned back into Jake’s sight, raising your glass at him and he actually flushed, nodding at you in gratitude. It didn’t take long until you excused yourself to your friends, pushed your chair back and made your way over to Jake, a grin on your face. 

“You know, I’ve got to give it you. You managed to get my attention without disrupting my friends and I,” you told him, taking a seat next to him.

“Well, you didn’t look like you wanted to be interrupted,” Jake said easily, swirling the whiskey around in the glass. He kept his tone light, even though he was buzzing underneath his skin. Jake couldn’t really put a finger on what exactly it was about you that made him so nervous. But you did. 

And it was different than talking to the people Jake just wanted to take home. He didn’t just want to take you home. He wanted to take you home and keep you there. Which kind of made him sound insane since he just met you like five minutes ago.

“Good call. It definitely makes you more likable already.” You leaned your elbow on the counter turning to your side to look at him, drinking him in. When you told him your name, he was sure it burned into his brain, never to be forgotten. 

“Jake Seresin.”

“So, Jake. What’s someone like you doing drinking by yourself?”

“I was feeling restless at home, so I thought I’d come out here for a drink. Friends were all busy so I came alone. You’re welcome to join me, though,” Jake suggested and you only smiled, as if you knew something he didn’t. Sliding a piece of paper to him, you pushed your chair back, leaving Jake puzzled. 

“I am busy tonight. But you can give me a call, if you're lucky I am free.”

With that, you joined your girlfriends, who were standing by the door, clearly laughing at him. Jake guffawed at first, staring at your number on the counter and back to you. Winking, you exited the bar and Jake only huffed out a laugh. 

Well, apparently he wasn’t taking anyone home. At least not tonight. You really got him good.

///

After Jake called you, not even 24 hours after you first met, you had your first date at a nice restaurant he picked. One date quickly turned into two, three, seven? Jake wasn’t sure. He stopped counting by the time you had turned up on his doorstep with a pizza on a random Monday evening. And it’s been nice. Really nice even. He couldn’t remember the last time he enjoyed another person’s company so much. Right now, you were standing in his kitchen, trying to figure out dinner. 

“Can you help me chop up the veggies? If you have a second cutting board,” you said, halving the cherry tomatoes. Jake complied, pulling another cutting board out of the cupboard, taking the leafy greens - bok choy he presumed - out of the water. With narrowed eyes, he reached for the knife, his eyes never leaving the cherry tomatoes.

“What’s your problem now?” you asked with a sigh, dropping the tomato, the knife still in your hand as you looked up at him, clearly exasperated. 

“... I don’t like tomatoes.”

“My god Jake, don’t be such a baby.” You rolled your eyes at the minor inconvenience, but Jake made a sound that suspiciously sounded like a whine. Your head was turned away but he could tell you were laughing by the way your body was shaking. 

“You didn’t seem to mind them on your pizza.”

“That’s different,” Jake argued, cutting the butt off of the bok choy. “That’s marinara sauce. Not tomatoes.”

“Is it a texture thing or a taste thing?” you wanted to know, pouring the halved cherry tomatoes in the bowl, checking on the shrimps in the stock. 

“It’s a tomato thing,” he sniffed and you muttered under your breath. Jake was sure it was profanities. 

“I’m not going to leave it out of the soup, but I won’t put that many in your bowl, okay? Will you at least try it?”

You had put the wooden spoon down, hands wrapped around his bicep and with the way you were looking at him, Jake was sure he’d do anything you would ask him too. 

“Fine,” he grumbled, begrudgingly, his frown only disappearing slightly when you kissed his cheek, returning your attention to the stove. He watched as you put the finishing touches on dinner, only grimacing slightly as the tomatoes were added. 

As you plated the bowls, Jake ripped open the package of chopsticks you brought, guessing correctly that he did not have them in his drawer, setting the table as well as he could. You brought the two steaming bowls to the table and sat down, looking at him. 

“Go on, try it.”

Jake somewhat clumsily picked up the noodles with the chopsticks, draping them on the spoon before adding a tomato, with a pointed look in your direction, before putting it in his mouth, humming in surprise. 

“The tomato is actually not that bad,” he admitted and you danced  in your chair in victory. 

“Told you so,” you gushed, digging into your own bowl. The two of you spent the next couple of minutes in silence, with the occasional slurp by Jake, not having mastered eating with chopsticks quite just yet. 

“You know when you offered to cook dinner, I was expecting something like chicken alfredo or some steak and gravy, not shrimp tom yum,” Jake said in between bites and you chuckled, placing your chopsticks on the bowl. 

“There’s nothing wrong with pasta or steak. I love that, but if you have it for lunch and dinner every day, you quickly get tired of it, trust me. When my best friend and I used to live together, I was the one cooking for like 90% of the time because Brad is a disaster in the kitchen.”

Jake paused, the name sounding somewhat familiar, but it quickly moved to the back of his head as your story progressed.

“I got tired of pasta, so I just started looking for more recipes, branching out a bit. And it’s definitely come in handy, I never have to wonder what I should cook for dinner,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. 

“That probably takes a lot of stress off your shoulders. I mostly eat on b- work. I eat at work,” Jake corrected himself quickly and you narrowed your eyes at him. “So I don’t really cook that often.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but apparently decided against it when you closed it again, finishing your dinner. After the two of you were done, you left Jake to do the dishes, not even fighting him on it as he offered to do it, instead making yourself comfortable on the couch. 

When Jake was done, he walked to the living room, pausing in the doorway as he wiped his hands off, watching you tapping on your phone. “You know, “ he started, kneeling on the couch, “other people would fight me to do the dishes.”

“I made dinner,” you pointed out, looking at him with raised brows. “Quid pro quo.”

“I was kidding, I would’ve cooked for you if you had let me,” Jake needled, trailing his hands up your leg and you only watched, amused. 

“Anything I can help you with, mister?”

“I was just wondering if you had planned anything for dessert…” Jake hummed, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your shorts, the other hand ghosting over the buttons. “Otherwise I have some ideas.”

“Oh yeah?” you asked, your eyes dark, and Jake could tell that you were getting antsy. “What’s on the menu?”

“You.”

Jake scooped you up, throwing you over his shoulder, having you squeal, as he carried you into his bedroom, throwing you on the bed, not very gentleman-like. 

You didn’t seem to mind. 

As with everything Jake did, he didn’t waste any time, flicking the buttons of your pants open before he pulled them down swiftly, leaving you in your underwear. You propped yourself up on your elbows, and Jake looked up at you with a smirk before he literally buried his face in your pussy. 

Using his hands to lift your thighs, Jake took his sweet time licking in between your folds and hearing you gasp was music to his ears. Pushing closer against you, he hitched one of your legs over his shoulder, plunging his tongue into you. 

“Oh god, Jake!”

Your hands had found their way into his hair, tugging, not quite so hard that it was painful, but enough that it made him fuck you with his tongue even harder. The way you moaned over him drove him crazy and he grunted into you. His cock was uncomfortably straining against his jeans, but he was determined to make you come first, so he kept swirling his tongue against the bundle of your nerves until you were shaking. 

“I’m close,” you writhed out and Jake detected a hint of surprise in your voice. He was tempted to ask about it, to tease, but at this point it would be kind of mean and he was pretty sure he’d regret it, so he filed it away for later. 

Applying a bit more pressure, while holding the same rhythm, Jake swirled his tongue around you, lifting his eyes just at the right moment when you fell apart, your whole body shaking as you did. 

Satisfied, Jake pulled away from you, biting his lower lip with his teeth, a shit-eating grin on his face after having made you come like that. Your chest was heaving as you recovered from your orgasm, eyes shut. 

“I was that good, huh?”

“Shut up,” you muttered with a huff, dragging him up next to you so you could kiss him, while your hands were steadfastly busy with undoing his belt. Jake’s mouth was still glistening with you, but you didn’t seem to mind, as you eagerly kissed him. When you finally undid his pants, you wasted no time, immediately wrapping your hands around his cock and Jake moaned into your mouth, while you lazily jerked him off, hand slick from his pre-cum. 

“‘m gonna ride you,” you mumbled against his lips, and he merely grunted in agreement, his hand reaching for your shirt, before he pulled it off over your head, tossing it somewhere on the floor. Throwing your leg over his waist, you straddled him, his cock just barely touching your ass. Jake reached up to unclasp your bra, sliding it off your arms and you pulled on his shirt impatiently. 

With a laugh, despite his rock-hard cock, Jake took off his shirt and you immediately put your hands all over him, groaning. 

“God, you’re literally sex on legs.”

“You know I really ought to eat your pussy more often if it gets you like this,” Jake grinned and you huffed, fingers brushing over his abs. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Jake.”

Leaning your hands on his chest, you bent down to kiss him, while one hand reached down to guide his cock against your entrance and Jake’s eyes fluttered shut in pleasure when he was engulfed by your warm walls. 

“Oh fuck me…” you sighed, throwing your head head, adjusting to his length and Jake’s eyes fluttered open, smiling lazily at you. 

“That’s the plan, if you’d start moving,” Jake said with a slap on your side and you glared at him, before you started to move, your eyes rolling to the back of the head. He’d never get tired of this sight, watching you fuck yourself on his cock with so much pleasure. Grunting when your nails started digging into his abs, he reached up to cup your breast, his mouth salivating. You laid your hand over his and squeezed; when your eyes fluttered open, staring directly at him, he nearly came then and there. 

“Jesus fuck, you’re killing me,” Jake choked out, dragging you off his cock. Before you could start complaining, however, he already had you on your back, lining up against you, and plunging in, making you moan. 

The sounds that filled his bedroom were obscene and he’d feel guilty for his neighbors, if he actually cared. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss, as he pounded into you, which apparently wasn’t enough for you, judging by your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in deeper. 

“Harder,” you moaned against his mouth and he’d roll his eyes if he wasn’t enjoying himself so much. Of course he obliged. Your moans turned into cries of pleasure and Jake leaned his head on your shoulder as he thrusted into you, biting at your neck. 

“Are you going to come for me, hm?” He whispered against your skin, the sound of his cock driving in and out of you, constant. “You going to come all over my cock?”

“Yesyesyesyes,” you whined, your back arching when the second orgasm hit you, your entire body shaking. 

Jake followed quickly after, spilling his cum inside of you with your name on his lips. Carefully pulling out, he rolled to the side, as the two of you caught your breath. He pressed a soft kiss to your side, before he reluctantly stood up, knowing he’d needed to clean up, grabbing a towel from the bathroom. Kneeling in between your legs, he carefully wiped you off, making you hiss. 

“Sensitive!” 

“Sorry,” Jake said, not feeling sorry at all, wiping himself off as well before tossing the towel in the hamper, curling around you. A comfortable silence fell over you as Jake drew circles into your skin. 

“So…” Jake started, drawling a bit. “You sounded a bit… Surprised when you came the first time.”

Jake could literally see you rolling your eyes, even though you had your back to him. 

“No one has ever made me come with their tongue before,” you then said and Jake inhaled sharply, feeling a sense of pride and also possessiveness at your words. Pulling you a bit closer, he nipped at your neck, smiling. 

“Where’s my award then?”

You rolled in his arms so quickly, Jake had barely time to react, and that was saying something. In a matter of seconds, you were back on top of him, giving him a devilish smile. Jake gulped at the sight of you, his cock half-hard again already. 

“I was trying to give you some time to recover, but if you’re so eager…”

A few seconds later, you had your mouth wrapped around his cock and he was seeing stars like he was flying at night.

///

With a sigh, Jake pulled the helmet from his head, shaking out his hair. The squadron’s been testing out some new planes for the past weeks and today Jake very much experienced the limits of those planes. He couldn’t even wait for the others and headed straight to the changing rooms, putting his helmet in its designated space on his way. Unzipping his flight suit, he let it drop around his waist, stilling when he passed his locker. Without thinking for too long, he opened the locker, reaching for his phone. 

Sweets: hey

Sweets: idk if I can do dinner tonight, work’s been tough

Sweets: don’t be mad

Furrowing his brow, Jake was disappointed you’d cancel dinner so last minute, especially because you’ve been looking forward to the reservation for like a week. So you must be really down, then. Jake bit his lip, thinking for a second before he decided to call you, phone already ringing against his ear. 

“Hello?”

You sounded small, exhausted. Jake’s never heard you like this and he wasn’t sure if he liked it. What happened to make you, someone who was so inexcusably bright and happy all the time, sound so… Down?

“Hey. It’s me. Are you okay?”

You laughed, though it didn’t sound very happy. “Um, no. Not really. I’m sorry I had to cancel so last minute, I was really looking forward to eating there.”

“No, no. It’s completely fine, don’t worry about it,” Jake looked up when the door to the changing rooms opened, and Javy stepped in. Jake shushed him with a finger on his mouth, turning his phone the other way. “I could maybe pick up some food there and come to your place afterwards. How does that sound?”

Javy raised an eyebrow at him and Jake laid his palm over his mouth. 

“That actually sounds good. Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay. I’ll see you later.”

“You’re the best.”

Javy side-eyed him as Jake hung up the phone, stuffing it back into the locker. Jake didn’t say anything as he stripped out of his flight suit, but he could feel Javy’s eyes staring at the back of his head. 

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

Javy rolled his eyes. “Didn’t know that things were getting serious with the bar girl. That was her, wasn’t it?”

“She has a name,” Jake pointed out and Javy sighed. “She’s not feeling very well and she has been looking forward to that restaurant for like a week. It’s not a big deal.”

“I know it’s not. I was just surprised. I am happy for you, man.”

Javy squeezed Jake’s shoulder and he huffed, hiding his smile before shrugging his hand off of him. God, Javy was so nosy sometimes. Jake knew he only had good intentions but he was pretty sure that Javy was going to pull a stupid stunt like give you the shovel talk when he’d introduce you to him. After Jake showered, he got dressed and drove to the restaurant to pick up several things from the menu. Packed with two take-away bags, Jake made his way over to your place, knocking gently on your door. 

There was some shuffling on the other side of the door before it opened, revealing you. You gave him a small smile and Jake put all the bags in one hand, wrapping his arm around you and pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. He realized that it was very much a boyfriend move, but a kiss on the lips just didn’t seem appropriate, and he didn’t just not want to kiss you. So a forehead kiss it was.  

“Come on, I already set the table,” you said, pulling him inside and grabbing the bags from his hands. While Jake took his shoes off, you put the take away boxes on the table, opening the pizza box before sitting down. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” 

“Just water is fine.”

Jake walked to the kitchen, opening the fridge to grab a water bottle for you, stilling when he saw a six pack of his favorite beer standing in the corner. Breathing out a laugh, he grabbed a beer for himself and a water bottle for you, getting back to the table. If you noticed the beer in his hand, you didn’t say anything so neither did he. 

///

Sweets: you up for a movie tonight? the new marvel movie looks great

Jake: what’s marvel?

Sweets: you’re joking right?

Jake: no

Jake stared at the small ellipses that kept popping up and disappearing, meaning that he had just riled you up on another level. Obviously he knew what Marvel was, Fanboy recently took the whole squadron out for the new Spider-Man movie when it came out. You couldn’t be friends with Fanboy and not know Marvel. When five minutes had passed, and the ellipses were still there, Jake decided to let you off the hook.

Jake: I was kidding. Of course I know what Marvel is.

Sweets: i hate you.

Snorting, Jake fingers flew over the screen of his phone as he replied to you, tensing when he heard steps coming towards him. Quickly, he slipped the phone into the pocket of his flight suit, only to relax again, realizing who it was. 

“Who’s got you smiling at your phone like a fool?”

“None of your business,” Jake said lightly, reaching for his phone again, the message to you still unfinished. Jake leaned away when Rooster tried peeking on the screen, but apparently he saw enough.

“You didn’t tell me you had a girl!”

“You never asked.”

“She must be a saint to be putting up with you,” Rooster joked and Jake huffed, a fond smile on his face. 

“You have no idea.”

“Hey, why don’t you bring her around for my birthday?” Rooster asked and Jake smirked, already having thought of it. “I think all of us would like to meet the girl who can tame you down into a puppy.”

Honestly, Jake wasn’t sure if you’d actually wanted to meet his friends. Were you at that point to meet each other’s friends yet? Is that where the relationship was headed? 

“Watch it, Rooster,” Jake bellowed, though without any heat. “And I was actually thinking about bringing her, but I think she’s busy.”

“Aw, that’s too bad. But bring her around for drinks sometime?”

“We’ll see. I don’t want to chase her off by introducing her to you group of ragtags too soon.”

“Introducing who to us?”

Jake groaned when the rest of the squadron joined, Phoenix raising a meticulously groomed brow at him. 

“Ooooh, does Jake have a girlfriend?” Halo teased and Jake rolled his eyes, brushing her hand off his shoulders. 

“You know, now that you mention it, he has been constantly glued to his phone and ditching us instead of coming to the bar,” Payback hummed in thought, throwing his arm over Jake’s neck. “I thought we were friends.”

“Friends may be a bit of an exaggeration.”

“Don’t tease him, he’s a man in love.”

Jake couldn’t help the flush on his cheeks and everyone started hooting. He threw a dirty look at Javy, his supposed best friend, who definitely will be demoted to friend, soon if he didn’t stop airing out his dirty laundry. Jake looked at Rooster, for some type of support, but the other man only shrugged with his shoulders, having the time of his life. 

“Just for this, I will bring her around even later than I already planned to,” Jake huffed. “Now come on, I have time for one drink before I go meet her.”

For the entire time Jake was at the Hard Deck, the squadron continued teasing him. Jake was annoyed, but he knew that you would love this. God, the worst thing is, you’d probably fit right in with the people Jake called his friends. When he finally announced his departure, they all yelled at him to send regards to you and that they would meet you soon. With a head-shake, Jake made his way home, changing into his civvies and drove over to your place. 

You were already standing out by the sidewalk, climbing into his car when he pulled to a stop. 

“Hi.”

Leaning over, you kissed him sweetly on the lips, before dropping your hands in your lap. “Thanks for driving.”

“Sure thing.”

You spent the entire drive to the movie theater talking about your day, without mentioning your jobs, and exchanged theories about the new Marvel movie. At the movie theater, you did the old dance and grab of paying for the tickets, with Jake paying and accepting defeat when you slapped your card out for the drinks and popcorn. 

During the movie, Jake spent most of it staring at you, instead of the screen and he realized how right Javy was. He’d got it bad for you. After the post-credit scenes have rolled, you turned to him to say how his theory was so wrong, only to find him already looking at you. 

“What?”

“Do you wanna spend the night?”

Caught by surprise by his, admittedly, very random question, you pursed your lips in thought, before nodding. “Sounds good. But I need to eat, I’m starving.”

“We can’t have that, now, can we,” Jake drawled, grabbing his hand and pulling you up. “Come on, I know a pretty good taco place.”

The taco place was on the way to Jake’s house and it wasn’t anything special, really. It didn’t even have tables, so you and Jake had to eat your tacos by the curb of the parking lot the taco truck was parked in. 

“My friends were hassling me about meeting you today,” Jake told you, wiping his hands with the napkins and you raised a brow at him, swallowing the food in your mouth before answering.

“Were they now? And what did you tell them?”

“I said that they can meet you when I deem them worthy enough.”

Snorting out a laugh, you shook your head, throwing the last of your taco in your mouth. You shoved his forehead gently, which was kind of demeaning, but Jake smirked at you, wrapping his arm around you. 

“They told me to bring you around tomorrow-”

“You know I’m busy, I already told you,” you cut in and he gave you a look. 

“Yes, I know. I was listening to you.”

“Good.”

You got to your feet, dragging Jake with you. “Come on, let’s go.”

Jake took you home, and while it was a bit odd to have you with him while he got ready for bed, it wasn’t something that he couldn’t imagine getting used to. But when you crawled under the blankets of his bed, Jake had to pause a bit, that image burning in his head.

When Jake woke up the next morning, he felt your warmth pressing into his body and he smiled before he could even open his eyes. 

“I can literally feel you staring at me,” you mumbled into his chest, leaning back to blearily look at him, your brows furrowed.

So definitely not a morning person then. Noted.

“You must definitely still be asleep then, because I am definitely not staring at you.”

Huffing, you buried your face in the crook of his neck again, groaning. “What time is it?”

Jake reached for his phone, squinting his eyes at the bright screen in the otherwise dark room. He usually liked to keep his curtains only partially drawn to get woken up with the sun rise, but you had vehemently complained against it when you got in bed the night before.

“Ten-ish.”

With that, you started stretching like a cat, almost taking Jake’s eye out in the process. You sat up, wiping your eyes and you had to be the most adorable fucking thing he’s ever laid eyes on. “Do you want to get breakfast before I have to go home? I need to run some errands before I head over to my best friend’s tonight.”

“Sounds like a plan, sweets.”

The two of you got dressed, and got ready in the bathroom, and Jake merely watched you in the mirror as you blinked, brushing your teeth. 

“How many cups of coffee do you need before you’re actually awake?”

“Ask me again after I’ve had my first cup,” you mumbled, mouth full of toothpaste. 

When you were finally done, Jake draped your button up over your shoulder, before herding you to the car, driving to the closest breakfast diner. Luckily, it wasn’t that full and Jake managed to find a booth, quickly flagging down a waitress to order. It was nice out, the sun out and bright, though there was still quite a morning chill. 

You leaned your head against his shoulder as you sipped on your coffee, sighing softly, having opted to sit next to him, instead of on the other side of the booth. 

“You know, I get it now.”

“Get what?”

“Why you never wanted to sleep over. You’re almost like a kitten, all small and complacent.”

Glowering, you side-eyed him. 

“You wanna say that again after I’ve finished this cup?”

Biting back a laugh, he wrapped his arm around you, pressing a firm kiss on your temple. “There she is.”

You finished breakfast while occasionally swiping at each other before you paid the bill, raising a brow at Jake, daring him to fight her for it. He didn’t. 

This time. 

Twenty minutes later, Jake’s truck rolled to a stop in front of your apartment building and you unbuckled from your seat. 

“Hey, before you go,” he stopped you, grabbing your hand gently. “What do you think about coming out for a drink with me and my friends sometime?”

You tilted your head at him, a small smile on your face. Jake actually got nervous the longer you took to answer, but you instead grabbed him by the nape of his neck, pulling him over the console for a kiss, in which Jake nearly lost himself, before you leaned away, biting your lip. 

“I’d like that.”

Climbing out of the car, you gave him one last smile, before you shut the door, heading inside your building. Jake couldn’t help but chuckle at himself, shaking his head and making the drive back home. He spent the rest of the day doing some paperwork he had been pushing off, trying to get the rest of the squadron to not completely escalate regarding Rooster’s birthday present and occasionally texting you. When it rolled around seven pm, Jake got changed and made his way over to an old hangar of Penny’s dad, where Rooster was holding the party. 

“Awe, you didn’t bring your girl?” Halo immediately asked when he got out of his car, having waited with Javy by the parking lot. 

“No. And seeing you prowling around here like this, I’m glad I didn’t,” Jake replied dryly, patting Javy on the back before they walked inside the hangar. 

“You can’t blame Halo. You’ve been holding out on your mysterious girl for so long, the suspense is literally killing us.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Javy,” Jake sighed, plucking his aviators off his nose. “You’ll meet her when you meet her. Now come on, Rooster’s over there.”

They broke up Rooster and Maverick, whose eyes were suspiciously misty, to embrace the other aviator.

“Hey man, happy birthday,” Jake said, hugging him tightly, clapping his back. “Let’s hope that this year’s finally the year where you shave off that mustache of yours, yeah?”

Rooster beamed at him, apparently having a few beer intus already, his cheeks red. 

“Yeah yeah, Hang. I know you love me. I’m glad you came.”

Soon, the hangar filled with the rest of the squadron, Payback and Fanboy bringing in Rooster’s birthday gift - an entire cardboard box full of the most brightly colored hawaiian shirts they could find, and yes, Jake was outvoted - and they were currently trying to see how many shirts Rooster was able to put on before he’d suffocate. 

With a fond shake of his head, Jake grabbed a beer from the cooler, snapping the bottle cap off. He was glad to have found this team. Before the mission, he only had Javy, and occasionally Halo, whenever she was stateside. Jake wasn’t sure what it would’ve looked like to you, if he was only able to introduce to you one and half friends, because he just didn’t have more. This was better. 

Pulling another swig from his beer, Jake checked his phone for any new messages from you - nothing - when there was a commotion by the front. Jake couldn’t see exactly what it was through the crowd, but then Rooster emerged with a huge grin, holding a cake in the shape of a… Was that a rooster in a Hawaiian shirt? 

Someone clearly had a good taste in humor. 

Rooster placed the cake on the table before wrapping his arms around a girl, the one who brought the cake presumably, and kissed her soundly on the cheek. She looked vaguely familiar and Jake furrowed his brows, staring at her, until recognition dawned on his face. 

It was you. 

He watched as Rooster took you around, introducing you to everyone and Jake’s eye twitched. The two of you looked awfully comfortable around each other, with tons of physical contact. You and Jake hadn’t been dating long, but he thought that you were on the same stage as him when it concerned your relationship, especially after last night. Were you cheating on Rooster with him? But you wouldn’t do that, right?

And Rooster hadn’t mentioned dating anyone, has he? Or was Jake just not listening again?

By the time Rooster finally brought you around, Jake was crawling out of his skin, not missing the fact how your eyebrows rose up, before you shook your head, smirking. Jake was barely listening when Rooster introduced you.

“... this is Hangman. This one shoved Jeremy Maguire into a bush of roses when he tried to steal my scooter and we’ve been best friends ever since.”

Blinking, Jake stared at you, not having processed the information just yet, while you only peered at him, mouthing Hangman? at him.

“Hi, nice to meet you, Hangman,” you drawled and Jake furrowed his brows in confusion. Childhood best friends? he mouthed instead.

Rooster, however, was completely oblivious to your exchange. “I’d tell you not to hit on her, but I know you wouldn’t be able to handle her, so you better watch out,” he told Jake, before turning to you. “I’ll go grab some plates and a knife for the cake. Are you okay?”

“Yeah yeah, go on, B,” you said, waving him off. Rooster pecked you on the cheek, nodding at Jake before disappearing into the back of the hangar. 

You, on the other hand, turned your full attention to Jake, crossing your arms. “So. Hangman, huh?”

Jake sighed in exasperation, finishing the last of his beer. You watched, and Jake, checking over his shoulder that everyone was otherwise busy, grabbed you by the arm, dragging you outside the hangar. You leaned against the wall, a smirk dancing on your lips.

“Your best friend Brad is Rooster?”

“It’s not like you didn’t know his name is Bradley, Jake,” you shot back, jabbing his chest. “You should have told me that you’re flying for the Navy.”

In hindsight, Jake probably should’ve been able to put two and two together. Now that he thought about it, there were so many instances where you were basically screaming at him that Rooster was your best friend.

Small world indeed.

“You didn’t want to know!”

“God, I should’ve been able to tell with that ego of yours,” you sighed and Jake snorted. 

“Didn’t seem to mind my ego last night.”

You rolled your eyes at him and god you were so beautiful when you were annoyed. Brushing his hand up your arm, Jake fixed the strap of your dress.

“You look nice.”

Scoffing, you fixed him with a look that Jake knew meant that you were unimpressed. Straightening his shirt, you batted your eyelashes at him. 

“What does Hangman even stand for?”

Jake smirked broadly. “You’ve seen me naked. You know what it stands for.”

“Fucking naval aviators will be the death of me,” you muttered before dragging him in closer, pressing your lips on his. Jake groaned quietly, kissing you back while one hand cupped your cheek, the other resting on your waist. 

“Seriously?”

Immediately you and Jake sprang apart, as Rooster only looked at you, blinking unfazed. Jake waited for Rooster to grab him by the ear or something, for desecrating his childhood best friend, but he only shook his head at Jake. 

“It took you five minutes to fall for her charms, huh? I expected better from you.”

“I- what?” Jake was at loss for words, mentally prepared for defending himself, but apparently that wasn’t necessary.

You smirked coyly at Rooster, your hands smoothing over Jake’s shirt. “He’s tongue guy,” you said, as if that explained everything. 

Evidently, it did though, as Rooster’s eyebrows shot up, his face a mixture of shock and surprise. “Holy shit, he is?”

Jake was extremely confused at this point and he very much did not like how he was the only one in the unknown. Was this how it was always going to be at this point? He wasn’t sure if he liked that. Rooster wrapped his arm around Jake’s shoulder, laughter rumbling in his chest.

“The hell is going on here? Am I in the middle of some weird shovel talk or something?” 

“No, she is definitely capable of taking care of herself, Hangman.” 

“What’s that even supposed to mean?” Jake grumbled and you beamed at him, your eyes twinkling. 

“Wait, he doesn’t know yet?” Rooster asked gleefully, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Wait, you didn’t pull that weird job thing on your first date again, did you?”

“It normally doesn’t even backfire like this. How should I have known that you guys know each other?”

“What’s with the job thing, anyway? Isn’t this the best time to tell me now?”

“Oh oh, can I tell him please?” 

“Jesus, fuck off, Bradley,” you huffed, giving him a shove. Jake glanced between Rooster and you, actually getting concerned. 

“What is it you do for a living, sweets?” He then wanted to know. Rooster, having noticed his tone change, cackled, rubbing his hands together like the little shit he was. Sighing, you glanced at Jake, before telling him what you did for a living.

“Are you kidding? Now that’s not really fair, is it?”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: anyone any guesses as to what reader's job is?

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