#i keep trying to go for a full reread but i keep jumping to specific scenes instead | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

avatarrecom · 2 years ago

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Hello! Previous anon from all the recent requests, (sickness, nightmares, getting hurt). I just wanted you to know I’m having a horrible day at work and rereading all your writing on my break is the only thing keeping me going! Thank you you so much!!

Beware of sarcasm

Pairing: Poly!recoms x Human!reader

Word count: 2022

A/N: Oh no, I'm sorry you're having a bad day! Not that my day is much better since I have the flu, but it allows me to stay home haha. I wrote this one-shot especially for you in the hope that it will cheer you up a bit! Please keep sending requests, the ideas are really good! And it makes me very happy that my stories cheer you up, that makes my day better!

One thing that’s important to know is that no matter how bad the situation is, you’re gonna crack a lil jokey joke. Most of your wonderful partners find this hilarious. They find it funny that the smart, nerdy (and extremely sexy, if you say so yourself) scientist is in reality a small and arrogant trouble maker. Fike and Brown even call you a feral chiwawa behind your back, and don't worry, you'll get your revenge on them. Others find it mildly annoying and by "others" you mean Miles. Don't get it wrong, he loves you dearly, but sometimes you're a bit much to handle. Especially in the early morning, before he and the others have had their coffee.

“Due to personal reasons I'll be turning things up fuckin notch.” You announce as you stroll out of Lyle’s bedroom and into the living area. They sigh and some mumble that they haven't had their coffee yet. “What is it this time darlin?” Miles asks, as Mansk quickly makes a giant pot of coffee. "So I have a new co-worker, Mike, and he is the most stupid, annoying, arrogant man I have ever met, god, he��s so full of himself, thinking that everyone either wants to date him of be him, he’s even worse than Lyle!" you exclaim, ignoring his indignant “HEY!”

“And then it turns out he's Sarah's nephew,” you sigh and climb to sit on the kitchen counter. Walker stands between your legs and presses a long sweet kiss to your lips. “Who is Sarah again?” you hear Brown ask confused. You pull away from Walker and look at him with mild irritation. "My boss?" you say in a 'duh' tone. “And then he tells me 'don't start' and it just makes me want to start.” You drop your head against Walker's bicep and Mansk offers you a cup of coffee. “Coffee isn't enough, I need to be struck by lightning.” You sigh. “That's the only way I can get through today.”

You accept the cup of coffee anyway and pout as you look at the clock. "I have to go, I have the daily morning meeting which is completely useless." You jump off the kitchen counter and head to the science department. After you've given all your lovers a big kiss, of course.

The moment the sliding glass door opens in front of you, you're besieged by the latest wonderful addition to the science department. "Good morning, beautiful!" he says in a voice that you can only describe as trying to be 'sultry'. You scoff, ignoring him and walking to your usual spot at the table. "Hey, I was wondering are you seeing someone?" he asks as he plops down in the chair next to you and throws his feet up on the table right in front of you. “As in a hallucination, a therapist or a person, be specific.” you answer, pushing his nasty feet off the table with a pen.

“You look too good to be single.” he tries to seduce you. You grin, “Baby it's not the looks, I'm not right in the head.” You purr at him. “You better think twice before you reject me,” he warns. “I can easily convince my aunt to fire you.” he boasts. You laugh hysterically, causing your other colleagues to look at you with worried and confused eyes. “Buddy I don't even think once.” You giggle.

"Do you know who I am?!" he raises his voice slightly. "I don't think…” you trail off slightly before you gasp loudly. “WAIT A MINUTE! Michael! From high school! I haven't seen you since you pissed yourself on stage at graduation, how the hell have you been???" You say it just loud enough so that everyone in the meeting room can hear you and you see shocked and horrified looks in their eyes.

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” he growls. “Do you mean today or in general?” you wink at him and turn your attention to Sarah, who is trying to get everyone's attention so she can start the meeting. You feel more than you see that he is staring intensely at you. You meet his angry glare, blink innocently and take a loud, obnoxious sip of your coffee. And in your head you decide that Mansk really makes the best coffee.

After the meeting, walk out of the meeting room as quickly as possible to get to work. Your friend and colleague, Mary, quickly catches up with you. "What was that?" she asks, laughing. “Nothing that has a major impact on my life,” you reply. "Well, whatever it was, it was completely hilarious." she laughs.

"But seriously, you really need to tell me about your date night with your partner's last night." she grins, wiggling her eyebrows. You grin back and think back to last night. “Well first Mansk had cooked an extremely delicious dinner,” you start. “You really have to bring me leftovers from his cooking sometime,” Mary interrupts. “You always go on about how good it is, but how can I judge it if I've never tasted it!” She hooks her arm through yours and quickly pulls you into the lab and leads you to her work station. "Yeah, yeah, can I tell you more or don't you want to hear the steamy details?" you ask teasingly. Mary quickly shuts up and lets you continue.

"Anyway, after dinner we went to watch a movie, and before you ask, the title is 365 days." Mary interrupts you again. "Isn't that pretty much a porn movie?!" she exclaims. "Be quiet!" you hiss at her. "Do you want the entire department to be able to enjoy the stories about my sex life or something?" Mary shakes her head and gestures for you to continue. "And let me put it this way, we recreated a number of certain scenes from the film." You finish with a sly smile. "Oh come on! I need details!" Mary begs. You shake your head. "You clearly don't know how to speak softly and I don't want to get scolded for talking about sex while working."

Mary scoffs. "It's not like I have an interesting or even existent sex life," she sighs. "And then your partners are also ten gigantic sexy aliens." You shake your head, laughing. "Then you have to lower your standards, that'll get you laid." “Ew, no thank you.” Mary looks disgusted. "Hey, can't you lend me one of those partners?" she leans her chin on her hand and blinks innocently. You laugh, “You couldn't handle them.” "See! if I couldn't handle them it would mean wild sex!"

"Say ladies, is this a suitable conversation for the workplace?" You squeeze your eyes shut and sigh in annoyance. "What do you want, Mike." "You'll be glad I decided to give you another chance." he says with an annoying smile that you would like to slap off his face.

“I wonder if you'll look both ways before you get on my damn nerves,” you say between your clenched teeth, forcing a smile. Immediately his eyes narrow. "Didn't your father ever teach you to appreciate a man's interest? You're lucky I want you." You bare your teeth. “The one thing my dad taught me is that when the going gets tough, dip.” You get up. "And that's exactly what I'm going to do now. Mary, have a nice day. Mike, have a day." You give Mary a quick hug and mumble, "'I swear, he's the reason God created the middle finger." You pay no attention to her snort and walk to your own workstation.

Finally you can focus on your work. You are currently continuing research into the neurological connection on Pandora, the original work of Dr. Grace Augustine. As always, you don't know the time and you absentmindedly ask Mary what time it is several times. "Hey Mary, what's the time?" You ask absently. “I just told you two minutes ago.” she answers, used to your fixation on your work. "I don't control the remember." Mary doesn't answer, still typing on her computer. “But seriously, what time is it,” you ask again as you examine your monster of Pandora's nature. "It's five o'clock, I'll be finishing up work soon." You look up in surprise, "Five o'clock already?" You close your work and tidy up.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Mike approach you and before you can escape the lab, he speaks to you again. “This is getting really annoying,” he announces. "No really?!" you reply sarcastically. “You know,” you start, “I hope I frustrate you a lot and you think about me a lot, now have a good evening and please don't hesitate to contact me.” You pat him on the shoulder and quickly make your escape, shouting a goodbye to Mary.

You make your way back to your accommodation, to your partners, as quickly as possible. You burst through the door and quickly lock it behind you. "What is the matter with you?" Prager asks worriedly when he sees your irritated look. “Mike kept bugging me,” you sigh and Prager lovingly pulls you into his lap. “What did he do, should we deal with him for you?” Asks Yes. You groan and are tempted to say yes, but Mansk announces that dinner is ready. You immediately take the opportunity not to answer, because you would almost say yes and that would most likely get your partners into trouble, which of course you don't want. You miss the tense look that Ja and Prager share with your other partners. A look that promises violence. Before your partners can help themselves to their food, quickly grab a container to set aside some food for Mary so she can assess it. You quickly explain before you start eating.

You've almost finished eating when the intercom at the door announces that someone is at the door. “I'll go,” you say, jumping to the ground. You immediately regret it when you open the door. Even outside of work he can't leave you alone. "I'm transferring to another research facility, I doubt we'll meet again." he announces. You blink in disbelief. "Do you promise?" You ask hopefully. Mike gets a pained look in his eyes and nods. You almost feel sorry for him, almost. Because the next words that come out of his mouth are, "Unless you come with me, I can take care of you, then you will never have to worry about things that are way too difficult for you again." "You know Mike, someday you'll go far." You say sympathetically and pat him on the shoulder. “I hope you stay there,” you nod to yourself. You immediately see Mike getting angry again and you feel a presence behind you.

“Get out of here, you bastard.” Miles snaps, placing his hand on your hip. You've never seen any scientist run away so fast. You chuckle and look up at your partners. “My brain is tired,” you complain, eager to change the conversation so your partners don't feel like pursuing Mike is a good idea, you're really not in the mood to bail them out of the slammer.

Z-dog grabs your hand and leads you to the couch to rest for a while. She rests your head in her lap and runs a soothing hand through your hair. You relax and before you can fall asleep, you quickly say your prayer. "Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep; and if I die before I wake, good." You faintly hear laughter around you before you fall asleep.

A little later you are woken up by Z-dog. "Come on, let's go to bed." You sit up sleepily and stumble to the bathroom. “Babe, I put the bowl of food for your friend in the refrigerator,” Mansk says and your mind immediately flashes back to your conversation this morning. “You know…” you start and you have everyone's attention. "Tomorrow isn't promised… clap my cheeks tonight, why wait." You look at your partners one by one and see ten identical smug grins looking back.

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junietuesday · 9 days ago

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also. just choose a question you really want to answer and do it >:)

currently answering fic writer asks!

17. talk about your writing and editing process

ive been asking people this one since i think its interesting how it differs for everyone, so thought i’d answer it myself! basically i’ll get hit w a very loose concept, and depending on how casual it is or if i think i need to get my thoughts in order before writing, i’ll either jump straight into it or write a bullet point “outline”. basically just a super informal brainstorm, talking abt possibly the themes/ideas i want to explore, some events i might throw in and how best to order them, and/or if i already have a vivid picture of the sequence of events, then i’ll just straight up write it out, no grammar or anything, but w the dialogue i can already picture, explaining the thoughts that the character is having, occasionally depending on how clearly i can already imagine the scene, the “outline” isnt super far off from actual prose. i’ll put a picture from one of my docs at the end, but its all just super rambly talking myself through the thought process.

then the actual writing- i usually write everything in order, bc i need to know where the character’s head is at and what theyve already thought abt in the previous scenes. i’ll keep the ideas from my outline in mind if i made one, but i dont stick to it religiously or anything, usually just going w the flow of what feels right for the characters in the moment means i end up straying a lot from any specifics. “going w the flow of what feels right” is honestly how i get the initial draft done lol, just based on vibes. if the start of a fic just isnt feeling fun, its often bc i tried to start too early in the timeline and am just vamping w too much inner monologue- ive been trying to work on starting as “in media res” as possible, not just per fic but per scene, w only a paragraph or so max interlude before getting into actual events and dialogue. i try to really sprinkle in the introspection in between the action, and to stop overexplaining, i just say certain stuff without context but that the reader can read into and fill in all the blanks, instead of me spending ages rambling abt stuff the reader could figure out on their own. if i get stuck somewhere, i rely on that trick a lot of counting back like 5-10 sentences to see if you wrote yourself into a corner.

i dont really do formal “drafts”, bc i edit as i write. i hear so many people say not to do this bc it gets in the way of just getting words down, but if im going back and rereading what ive written so far to think abt what to write next, i cant rest if i see weird sentence/paragraph rhythms, repeated words, places w dialogue that either doesnt sound in-character or doesnt carry enough double meaning, lazy imagery, etc etc. editing is also fun for me, and easier than writing from scratch, so im still working on the fic but its giving me a break so i can get into writing the next part w more steam. though when i “finish” a fic, i will go over the whole thing again for one last flow check, bc when writing i dont usually read the whole thing start to finish, so i’ll rearrange stuff and not see how it affects the greater rhythm of the story until i reread it in full for the final check. then i’ll give it like overnight to clear my head, then do one last quick reread for anything glaring i missed after having stared at this fic for so long (it usually takes me Months to write even 1-2k word long fics💀). i start looking for a title when im pretty close to done, usually from poems/literature, but if its a more casual fic i’ll just take a word or phrase from the fic that relates to the story in multiple ways.

under a cut for length but heres some of my outline for my transfem hardwon fic. bc it has elements of both “brainstorming” and “writing out the events”

i think i may break this up into two chapters. or perhaps even three. but my problem was that i thought itd be weird to suddenly jump away from moonshine and the crick for one scene only to go back for the whole rest of the fic. but if i have ch1 be the intro, ch2 be hardwon maybe in irondeep visiting jaina and nerman and such and talk to jaina abt queerness after a confrontation w other dwarves, and then ch3 be coming back to the crick for the finale of him opening up to moonshine/the ending smut… i lowkey think this could work. still be a bit of a jump but separating them into chapters will at least mitigate some of that weirdness i hope. ch1 awakening, ch2 irondeep interlude, ch3 homecoming? idk i like homecoming for ch3 bc hes coming home to the crick and moonshine, also the play on words for the smut in his stump, also coming home to his body after discovering his gender. and i want ch1 to match but i want it to be like discovery but also hardwon repressing it. so a word that evokes that too.

i think i need one more scene in here kind of getting into a showcase of hardwon’s defensive masculinity? showcasing all the things i have hardwon contemplating in the finale bc it cant come out of left field in the last paragraphs of the fic. like the idea that hes like. hes “succeeded” at masculinity. he worked so hard his whole life to be exactly what society wants him to be. a cool buff stoic warrior. this was supposed to be what made him fit in, what made people like him. and maybe it didnt work back in irondeep when he was working in the mines, but he could rationalize that if he left, maybe then it’d work. and it honestly has protected him in a way. like on first glance no one gives him shit. if he were more femme than he probably wouldve gotten mocked. but like- exactly. he Was already getting mocked no matter what he does. and hes still not happy w himself.

so for irondeep first scene it has to maybe start w some introspection to bridge the timeskip but have to be an actual example i think. hardwon talking to someone else. maybe like random people he was at the dwarphanage with? random bronzebeard cousins? i need a reason for hardwon to be talking w these people, maybe its some kind of party? to feel like the feywild party he and moonshine were going to wasnt completely out of pocket

and then after this is the talking to jaina scene. maybe the morning after or smth. it needs to be the last scene that he opens up to jaina to lead into him having the courage to open up to moonshine more fully in the last chapter

also idk if i can fit it in but while i dont want to spend Too much time on bodily dysphoria i think i might throw in something abt hardwon never really feeling like his body was right, bc he was a human among dwarves, then a half-elf, something cobbled together always one of a kind and strange, so it surely means nothing that his face never felt like his, there was always that sense of disconnection, now that hes at the crick and known moonshine for so long he thought he’d be feeling better, but its a wound that still lingers

i think moonshine needs to confront it directly somehow. after all the only way he admitted his feelings for moonshine was after jaina prodded him a bunch. scene starts w some hardwon introspection to bridge the timeskip. maybe moonshine finds the hardwon portrait after the fact. or just says like “hey hardwon you know you can talk to me abt anything right?” hardwon is like omg this is so ominous. “um yeah totally. why?” moonshines just like “i guess youve just seemed kinda off lately”, maybe hes been a lot more closed off around her trying not to reveal anything, “and i know you like to keep those walls up, but… let me in every once in awhile, huh?” she asks quietly, “are you not happy living here?” and hardwon immediately goes “no no, its been amazing, i love it here. im happier than ive ever been.” in fact hes thinking like until he met moonshine he didnt even realize the extent of how deeply unhappy he was. like he was just surviving day to day back in irondeep before he left, and now that hes living here at the crick, the difference is like night and day, he still has bad days but its only now that he realizes his “good days” from before were still like so bad. he was so busy surviving before, unwilling to look too closely at himself for fear of just breaking down, and moonshine has opened up his world so much, that only now is he discovering new things he likes (like how much he loves crick food and culture) and new feelings abt himself (security in himself. belonging and family. in a sexual sense, things hes done w moonshine and also being bi lol). and this strange new thing he doesnt understand, now that his brain is letting things come to the surface he’d never had the space to process before.

so he says “its just me. im just figuring things out.” and moonshine goes “alright. i wont push, ik you need to figure things out for yourself sometimes. but…im here for you if you ever want it.” and hardwon is like what am i doing? what am i so afraid of? moonshine opened her home and her heart to him already. given him a special place in her life that she’s allowed to so few other people. she was there for him throughout their journey. if everything before hadnt pushed her away, if she really wants him here, asking her for help in understanding a weird feeling he has isnt going to be the thing that ruins their relationship. cant make this toooooo revelatory bc theres still the final scene but yknow. him cracking the wall a little. more abt him willing to let moonshine in a little but the finale is him accepting Himself after all the self-degrading language.

ends w hardwon admitting that he liked it when moonshine called him pretty. moonshine goes “oh is that it?” and hardwon frowns like its kinda a big deal, i was lowkey freaking out abt it… moonshine goes no no i just meant like. i can do that.

#asks #june speaks #@purplecladmerchant #my writing #this truly was a ramble but. hope this is worth reading to literally anyone #ty for the ask💖💖💖

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werezmastarbucks · 4 months ago

Text

11. your human starter kit came incomplete

pic credit

masterlist

word count: 4599

music: arsonist by halsey

author's note: the legend halsey went and wrote the perfectest bestest song about serial killers. listen to it please

"Don't nibble on your fingers".

"Your dick has been in me once, and you're ordering me around already?" she muttered. Chibs was sipping tea next to her, watching her read. Their findings seemed a bit embarrassing to him now, because it was all 'we followed this lad until the garbage bins and broke his face but he didn't know anything'. June, however, seemed very interested. She kept rereading some of the pages and referring to the others, all the while, keeping one index finger in between her teeth. The street was fast asleep, the only lit building being her house, where they, sore after the long lovemaking, were sitting in the kitchen with tea.

June was rejuvenated with the new intel he'd provided. She was shaking her leg under the table, writing comments with a pencil on the other side of one of the pages.

Chibs stood up, stretched his back and looked at the time. His hands lay on her shoulders lightly.

"White, age between thirty and fifty, dull appearance", he read aloud.

"Don't look, it's not finished yet", she covered her lines with her hand.

"It's not a poem, Junie".

She gasped theatrically.

"How dare you sir. This is my poetry".

She made Chibs inspired. He declared:

"White and dull and jobless,

killed my neighbor lass,

what a little freaky

stooping smelly ass".

She laughed.

"I have to go. It's late".

June's eyes grew wider. She opened her mouth, but no sound was produced. Chibs stopped and looked.

"Can you stay for the night? I keep having nightmares. I wake up in the middle of the night, and it gets spooky".

He slowly sat back next to her.

"Since when?"

"Since forever".

She got unnerved under his studying gaze.

"About what?"

"Various things".

"Men?" he guessed. She lost against sad smile.

"In reality I try to act a certain way to make men afraid of me, but in my dreams they always get their revenge".

His hand was moving up and down her back, so weirdly comforting. She started getting lazy again. Like when he touched her, June had to fight against her own brain because it wanted to shut her down.

"I think spending days and nights with these monsters will do that".

"Ever since I remember myself", she said suddenly, "I wanted to either be the best, or in an anti-cannibal muzzle".

Chibs was quiet for some time.

"You can be the best at cannibalism. You're well on the path".

She turned the page around with a final motion and rubbed her face.

"Okay, I'm tired".

"Fucken finally", he jumped up readily, giving her his hand.

They were standing in a circle with confused frowns on their faces.

"That's like, the opposite of what Roosevelt told us to do", Kozik noted, "he told us specifically not to run into her, but if we all go to the police station..."

"Well, she said she doesn't want to go through this twice..." Jax shrugged.

"Oh, excuse me miss", Bobby grumbled. "What do ya think's gonna happen when all of our bunch drives into the police station? For a first, there's not enough space for all of us".

"Do you want to catch him or not?" Chibs asked. Everybody shut up for a second. Juice scratched his tattoed head. He never objected going to the police station for the profile reading. None of them would, had it not been for the two factors: it's a police station, and it's full of police.

"Poetic", Opie admitted, "last year she used the cops to hunt us, and today we're all in this together, hunting someone else. I don't know how much I hate it, but I do".

In the end, they had to mount their bikes and and ride to the station. The black glass doors were wide open to facilitate ins and outs as the officers were preparing to greet their unconventional guests, or, as they were used to calling them, criminals. The picture was rich: black leather and black police shirts, walking around each other on tip toes, throwing warning and cautious glances. Yet again, as some chaotic bullshit was happening, June Pallum was at the head of it.

She walked out of the office with her folder, in her blue jeans and a long oversize T-shirt. She dressed fancy for today, obviously. She had asked to clear up the space in front of the whiteboard, and this little island was now the only one not occupied by people.

In the left part of the room, closer to the cells and the water dispenser, were the bikers. They brought with them the smell of smoke and their coarse voices. Perched together like they were shy. Only Jackson sat, his knees so wide that a whole plane could fit in between. And Chibs, relaxed, shuffling next to the water dispenser, under the intense gaze of one of the officers. The cops were to the right, closer to the window, Roosevelt at the front. June remembered her first time at the police in Virginia when she finally was grown enough to present her own profile without supervision. A scrawny little twenty-five year olf girl she was, with a serial killer already under her belt, because it was her profile that caught him. But that presentation was done by Cooper. Then, he finally let her interact with the police, and then suspended her immediately because she started telling off the Detectives for stupid questions. She had quite matured since then.

"Morning, gents", she greeted them out of habit, "here's our client. First and foremost, here's the very approximate, not-at-all reliable composite sketch from an eye witness who saw the individual leaving the crime scene back in August in the middle of the night".

She pinned the piece of paper to the whiteboard with a magnet.

The audience started listening, a little shook by the lack of introduction, but June liked to catch them by surprise.

"Now, to the profile: as you know, the description I am giving is based on the analysis of the crime scene, the victim profile and modus operandi. As always, take it with a grain of salt and never let it hinge on your instincts.

The client is a white male, between thirty and forty-five years old, with unappealing, usual appearance, the kind of guy who doesn't draw glances. About 6 feet tall but stoops so he might look shorter than he really is. This is a lower to lower-middle class citizen with a low-paying but a stable job with perpetuated income. The nature of the wound suggests an ex-doctor, a taxidermist, a vet, a surgeon assistant. Hides his aggression well so he might not have criminal history. Lives with a mother or an older sister, or perhaps alone, but it is doubtful. All of the victims were last seen in places like Honeydew pub, the night club Pebble or the drug store on Fifth, so that's where he met them. Probably drives a sedan, something like Nissan Sentra of boring color".

The cops were writing things down in their pads. The bikers were listening intently, Juice, with a puzzled expression on his face.

"He has rage control problems which he expresses through murder. However, he is very organised, so he might have good hygiene and discipline. Uses the same instruments for every murder, he probably will have things like plastic bags, ropes, belts and gloves in his car. The car, if he has one, should be examined thoroughly because, before driving the victims to the crime scenes, he sometimes hits them on the head. He is right-handed, wears shoe size 10, leather bound engineer boots with straps. Has intense hatred towards women; might have a girlfriend whom he abuses, or a mother, maybe an old mother, who abuses him. The crime like this usually implies deep rooted sexual trauma. He is probably religious", she looked away from the pad and raised her eyes to the ceiling, continuing her thought, "will speak of women as 'dirty, immodest, undignified' and such".

She wrote down a couple of main points on the whiteboard and went on:

"Now, to the victims. All of them are young women from twenty to thirty, so I am too old to be a bait".

"Woooah", Roosevelt interrupted, "we're not employing you as bait regardless".

Juice's timid voice suddenly said,

"You look younger".

"Thanks. Anyway, victims are short, slender to mid-built, with medium brown hair. Three of the six were last seen in the pharmacy, as I said, and I think he is guarding that place, in addition to his usual haunting places, because he's looking for women on their periods. He either learns about it from conversation, or witnesses them buying pads and tampons".

Several people winced.

"It is possible that he stores their menstrual blood at home. All victims belonged to the low to low-middle class and had various jobs, one of them was unemployed. The six murders that we have all happened at the beginning of the month, so we can expect the seventh pretty soon. So I would suggest we look out for the type, set up baits", she looked at Roosevelt, "and keep our brown haired girls safe for the next ten days".

She threw the folder onto the nearest desk and observed the room.

"This is an incomplete, underdeveloped, defective individual with low self esteem. But this one has the advantage of mid to high intelligence. Edge of the road, where cars constantly pass by, is a risky spot. He is daring and insolent. Questions?"

Several hands flew into the air.

"Laney?"

"How do you know which car he drives?"

"Low paying job implies basic car he uses for daily business. He leads slow, monotonous, depressing life, so he has a similar cheap car. Cheap cars are usually basic colors. Then also, most working people in Charming drive a Nissan, so, by default we will put down that".

Laney nodded. Roosevelt put up his hand:

"Is he a psychopath?"

"He might be. We'll only know when we interrogate him. But he's highly organised, precise and violent. Psychopathy is a spectrum, it's a wide net".

One more hand:

"How do you know he has a dull appearance and stoops?"

"Serial killers who violently kill and mutilate young girls are usually unassuming and with low self-esteem", she said tiredly.

Bobby chipped in:

"Ted Bundy was handsome".

The murmur of agreement. June felt her eyes roll and almost had to stop them with her fingers:

"Ted Bundy had a monobrow, he barely ever brushed his teeth and had a habit of smelling socks".

The room was quite disappointed seeing the serial killer pride being shattered. Then Jackson asked:

"So, we do have the exact areas where he... hunts?"

"Yes, so, it's to the west of the center. I can assume he lives, works, and or hunts there. Exact information can be provided to you by the Detectives".

The Detectives started to repine against it.

"They're not cops!"

"Yeah, we are more flexible than you".

"You're not gonna get our intel".

"We can be there every hour of the day..."

"...too much of a burden..."

"...useless..."

June stepped to the desk and took the pad off, slamming the hard back onto the shelf several times. The station went quiet.

"He is disciplined. He has an established modus operandi and a completely formed type. He has perfected his craft. It's very possible", she was saying calmly, like in front of her were a bunch of children, "that sooner or later he is going to move on to a different town. Not to mention the proximity of the next murder, should he abide by his schedule. If the bikers will be the ones who spot him at the hunting place, so be it. He's been fooling you clowns for six months. Now I see why".

A dozen of pale faces were looking back at her, the Sam Crow crew smiling at them unpleasantly. Paul Fraser decided to defuse the atmosphere and held up his hand:

"You said something about baits..."

"Don't let her be bait", Jackson interrupted, "she is going to kill the killer, herself and several bystanders".

"Silence!" Roosevelt barked. The giggles died down. "Do you have any more relevant questions?"

Several more hands in the air.

Once again June was regretting her non-smoking nature. Sometimes the moments of time simply asked for it. Everybody was leaving the station, several people chatting in the corners, trying not to be heard; the diplomatic relationships between the Charming department and SAMCRO were unofficial then, and will always be.

And here's where June was done. The work was over. She did have a permission to stay for at least a month, to see how it goes, to edit the profile and assist further if needed. But she had to watch the pursuit being transferred into different hands now. Normally she would switch to the next case, but now this was the only one. She had to wait. The most hateful part of this job.

She was breathing the clean December air on the steps of the station. The bush next to her sighed. She turned and saw Juice.

"Great job, Juno. Sounds like you made it all up. Like in a book".

She nodded.

"Yeah, wouldn't want to have been a profiler forty years ago".

He grinned.

"Hey, how do you know that he's white? Was there any DNA on the crime scene?"

She shook her head.

"Ninety percent of murderers elect the victims out of their ethnographic pool".

He was looking at her intently with his huge dark eyes.

"People like him choose people of their own race".

"Oh. So, if the victims had been Mexican girls, then he would have been a Mexican?"

She nodded.

"Most likely".

"Phew. I'm off the hook then".

June snickered.

"Were you afraid you were secretly a serial killer?"

"You never know", he said seriously, "I smoke weed a lot".

She started laughing. Juice's eyes were following her face.

"So, last year's misery is behind us, huh?"

"I am surprised you're all not trying to kill me".

"Mmmm", he grimaced, "something good came out of it after all. There's actually more money".

She looked at her scarred palm. From the doors of the station, emerged Kozik and fell onto Juice, grabbing him by the shoulders.

"Juice, we're off to catch the Pussy Snatcher", he roared right into his face. As his eyes slid back onto June, he moved his friend towards himself. He still didn't like her, she figured. Wait, no, nobody liked her much. Except those three...

"Yeah, I'm kind of talking to the profiler", Juice mumbled.

"Come on, we know everything we need, let's go".

He practically dragged Juice down the stairs, towards their bikes. People were walking around her, curving their bodies, but June wouldn't step away. She liked to watch them all from the top spot. The smell of smoke reached her nostrils, and she was displeased to understand that she remembered this particular type. Players Navy Cut. She caught one of her colleagues smoking these in Quantico and had a very interesting moment of enlightenment. Jackson and Chibs came out and stood by her shoulders.

"I keep thinking", Jax said, "about the boots. You said the engineer boots".

"Yes, they found two identical footprints in two crime scenes. Had to figure it was him".

He nodded. They exchanged glances with Chibs.

"What is it?"

"They are pretty popular in Charming clubs. Tig wears them, for instance".

They never managed to get Tig to meet her. The man flat out refused to see June, and he never got sober for a second. She was still hoping to see him though.

"You're saying he might be a biker?" she asked quietly.

"Not necessarily", Chibs shook his head, "but they are pretty usual for the Mexicans, as well. Almost all of their guys wear them, too, just saying".

She stepped out to be able to look directly at them.

"Will you keep an eye on it?"

"Of course", Jackson said. Something was bothering him. Finally, he said:

"You don't think Tig could kill his own daughter, right?"

"Absolutely not", she snapped. She took Tig's image and rolled it all in her mind quickly. Didn't fit at all. Teller looked relieved. Chibs patted him on the shoulder.

She was staring at the pad array on the shelf. Christmas music was blaring from the speakers, and June bobbed her head slightly to it, frozen, because inside her skull she was considering the effect Christmas would have on him. She had already called Wendy, and she didn't give her any useful information. 'Maybe he'll take a break, or kill two girls instead of one! Hope this helps', she said. But, like a clairvoyant, she also asked about 'that guy you had sexual tension with'. June reported that the tension evolved into sexual relationship, and her friend was really happy. Didn't help at all.

Christmas was yet far away from his usual time. She had no idea why he chooses the beginning of the month. Periods have a habit of moving through the cycle, not stay in the same dates every time. She sighed and grabbed her dedicated pack of tampons she never used. By the end of it she could donate them all to a shelter. She turned to walk to the register and noticed Chibs, looking at her morosely.

"Thought Captain made the decision on no bait", he requested. June replied with the similar gaze.

"Well, it's a stupid decision, isn't it? This way, I can spot him".

She wanted to walk around him, but he stood in her way.

"How did you even know where to look?"

"I learned to follow you last year", he didn't react when June frowned, "but it doesn't take a genius to know where you'll be. Always tryin' to get in trouble".

"Well, you will spook him off if you stand here like a wall, Filip".

"I fucken hope so", he said, stone-cold. June shook the pack of tampons in the air.

"Better some innocent girl than me?" she asked. His eyes were only half-open, as, she learnt, they always were when Chibs was feeling dangerous. Last night they had sex in his car.

"If you want action so bad, then ask a Detective to take you with them".

She dismissed this idea with her hand. But then another one visited her head. Paul Fraser was really enthusiastic about their crime scene rides. He was so eager to help, apparently thinking he's in a thriller. He could be used. As a lookout, if Chibs doesn't want the bait thing.

"I'm afraid I'm starting to know this face", he said lowly. Suddenly he was really close, his hand around her waist. She couldn't feel the past need to fight off this intrusion of private space anymore. She kinda liked this. Chibs' mouth was at her ear.

"Whatever dangerous shit you're thinking, I'll be watching you and I'll lock you up".

"You never come through with your threats", she shrugged. "Never broke my arm, never cut my face..."

His hand on her back pressed and jerked her, like he was trying to shake something into her. June had a desire to sit on top of him again, his dick deep inside of her, riding this all out.

"Please, don't try to get yourself killed, Junie. We'll figure it out together".

Nobody else was in this drug store; the Pussy Snatcher nearly drove it out of business.

And so the unofficial operation began, in addition to the official one. There wasn't much June could do now to control the police; polite and smart Roosevelt made a point not to give her any authority outside of her profiling privileges. She couldn't ride out on searches. But she could use her free evenings, without anybody knowing. Fraser agreed to help her, saying, that yes, the nightclub Pebble has grown a new found edgy charm now. The countdown began. The earliest victim died on the second of June, and the latest, on the eighth. They didn't have any time.

At least she was hanging at the bar. As if by design, which insidiously clicked in her brains, this was the only club in Charming that didn't belong to one of the gangs. Not to SAMCRO, not to the Mayans, not the Grim Bastards. He could have chosen this specific club, of course, also because he was scared of killing the 'local' girls that had any connections with the gangs. That was wholly plausible.

Paul texted her every five minutes, like clockwork. After two nights, they have started developing their special inside language, that two people always have, who are forced to speak for hours. When she noticed someone suspicious, she snapped the picture, and Paul sent it to Detective Jarry, who he was friends with. Especially harrowing faces were also sent to Chibs, by June. So, he had to come to terms with the fact that she also was acting. On the third night, the fruit of this labor appeared in the shape of Juice.

"Hey", he fell on a stool next to her, putting his elbow on the bar, "come here often?"

June sighed.

"Every damn evening, hoping that a serial killer will pay me attention".

She motioned with her head.

"And you're disrupting it".

Juice shook his.

"No, Chibs sent me, said, piss her off, but don't let her get kidnapped".

"This becomes ineffective", she murmured into her cocktail glass.

"What you drinking?"

"Something citrusy and sour, and without milk".

He nodded and gestured towards the bartneder. June was looking around in her last desperate attempt to spot anybody stooping, smelly and freaky.

She had to give up for tonight, and it pissed her off to no end. The days were going. She was very nervous. To think that now it was x2 force hunting him, and he might have been getting ready to kill again, made it seem like the end of the world. All because it was unusual to sit and wait on one client at a time. She was normally spared of this because she had so many other cases. Didn't they understand that it was urgent? Juice, chilling out here, while he should have been covering miles of the city, searching for all the idiots wearing engineer boots. She bit her lip hard, making her neck tense. The bartender put a cocktail in front of her.

"Did I ask for the second one?" she snarled. Juice was a little taken aback. His sweet elongated face went through a couple of emotions in one second. And the horrible happened. Looking at him, June softened.

"Sorry. I am on the edge. The time's running out".

Juice nodded, his arm turning into a branch of tree on the bar counter. Maybe he was afraid that she'd bite into it.

"Yeah, I'm nervous as well. I have a cousin, she's... not white but she's passing. She's really pale, you know, how we are sometimes. And I sent her away from Charming for the whole month".

"Even worse if he leaves the city. What if he notices the renewed commotion. And skips the town".

Juice nodded with a sad expression.

"You ever not found the killer?"

"Of course. Many times. Out of ten, you only find three serial killers. Out of ten usual homocides, you find seven murderers". She shook her head. "It makes my body curl to think that I have seen what they do to people, and they are free to continue. In my mind it should be like, when we snapped the picture of your deed, you're done".

He agreed. Then June noticed something.

"Don't worry about your cousin".

"No, I know she's okay. She's with her father, and he's a huge guy, very overprotective".

"Why are you upset then?"

He was curling his lips, staring into the bar counter.

"It's Chibs, isn't it?"

The blue and purple light of the club was flashing on his face, making him look infernal. In the moving shadows, the tattoos on his head moved also.

"What do you mean?"

"You're... you guys are... together?"

Together? Sounded TERRIFYING. June blinked.

"Well, we're having regular sex. And I like his face".

He took it like a champ. June once again had the alien desire to comfort him.

"I am sorry".

"I just think it would've sounded neat. June & Juice".

She smiled. He wouldn't be able to handle her ass.

Paul stood in between them, a little ruffled.

"You didn't reply".

She suddenly got very tired of them both.

"Whatever. Let's drink, you guys, and go home. You both ruined it".

The fourth night was equally fruitless. June felt stupid, useless, unattractive. Some weird people were chatting her up. Mustached truckers, some IT guys so thin that even she could outpower them in wrestling; she scanned each one, talking about her sexuality, her preferences, inventing insane kinks, to trigger them. Fruitless.

She was fuming on the way home, in Fraser's car. Her jaws moving as she chewed on a piece of skin she had torn out with her teeth. Eating herself. She knew this was unnecessary obsession, but was so used to never letting go. The space of her head was painted red now. She wouldn't be able to fall asleep; overworking herself with these empty thoughts to the point where it was starting to become harmful. Inventing new scenarios this dude could follow. Meddling with investigation. She was about to call Chibs. He was always down. June had no idea, and no desire to think why. She was young, and probably pretty, good, flexible body, and he was eager for her. That's all she needed. The comfort inside the metaphorical circle of his arms, where the bliss of oblivion lived. They would never work out though, so different. How is she supposed to coexist with this ridiculous club?

Paul pulled her out of the reverie quite rudely. She felt his hand on hers.

"With so many feet working, we're going to catch him. Don't worry. Don't drive yourself insane".

Hot air left her nostrils. So far she was too preoccupied to speak, so she warned him with her eyes. But in the darkness of the car, Paul didn't see it. His pale hand was resting on her elbow, and suddenly the fingers started squeezing. Her lips curled up with rage.

"You've done enough. Let the police and the club do what they do best".

She didn't react, so he added:

"You okay, Junie?"

Her fist flew so suddenly that even June couldn't have predicted it. It stung his nose like a wasp, twice. Bam, bam. There was blood. Paul sat there, looking in front of him, struck.

"Don't ever touch me", she intoned. She left the car and slammed the door closed, walking towards her house to seethe.

The little bitch that is Paul Fraser complained to Roosevelt about their evening outings, and after four nights the operation was terminated. She got an formal warning from the Captain. Fraser returned to his duties with a little plaster on his nose. June was stuck in her office, going over and over the profile, all the accounts and evidence, trying to see something new. Sometimes, in about 50% of cases, it helps. Your brain sees that you're no giving up and says, fine, let's reassemble.

Didn't dawn on her yet, but there wasn't anything to do, either. The rainy December kept showering the city. The window was closing. On the eighth, Roosevelt entered her office to see how she was. They exchanged glances. Started preparing to find a new body, which secretly was a new hope, a kind of a Plan B.

But there was no body. No missing girls. He lay low. She had done too much. She had driven him away, like she did with everybody else.

@fallout-girl219

#soa fanfiction #chibs sons of anarchy #chibs telford #mindhunter typa shit

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uncleasad · 6 months ago

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how do you deal with writers block?

Hello, Anonymous friend, and thanks for this fun (and timely!) Ask.

The first thing I want to mention is there’s a difference between “normal” writer’s block and a persistent and wide-ranging writer’s block, which might be burnout instead. For burnout masquerading as writer’s block, I don’t have any good answers, but the recovery takes time.

For regular cases of writer’s block, can’t finish this scene, can’t figure out where to go next, and things like that, there are a wide range of strategies that I employ or have employed in the past.

When I got stuck on my very first fanfic, I started writing other ideas that came to my head. The 9 months between chapters on that fic spawned both the initial one-shots of the Tales from the Salvatore Kitchen series and the first three of my WIPs as I got stuck on each one, in turn, and started another 😂

I was always successful in getting writing again…just not in finishing the work I was stuck on in the first place 😳

On the first of those WIPs I mentioned before, when I got stuck at a certain point, I jumped ahead to the next scene I knew I could write, and I used that tactic fairly effectively; that fic is both one of my most-complete WIPs and also roughly 5 disconnected sections 😂

Another both effective and productive thing I do often is to go back and reread prior sections—paragraphs, scenes, chapters, sometimes even the entire fic—and/or edit. It refreshes my memory of what I’ve written and in a strange way rebuilds momentum, so that when I get to where I was stuck, I have everything in mind again and can plow through the wall.

Something I’ve used quite effectively recently is to take a prompt and write a very short fic from it, which has the benefit of switching my mind to a new context without getting me caught up in a whole new, full-fledged work. I think this has worked best when I know generally what I want to write but have gotten stuck on the specifics (actions or dialogue to fill out a scene); this seems to kick-start the creative juices, plus leave me feeling good (endorphins) from “finishing” something.

Those are the tools for breaking writer’s block that still involve writing and you the writer taking action on your own. The next set of tools are more passive and involve taking a break of some kind.

If you’ve poked around my blog much (and it’s perfectly fine if you haven’t!), you might notice I often post about getting ideas—both for new fics and for things I’m working on right now—as a result of doing mundane things.

So many ideas (often the craziest!) come to me in dreams! (Be sure to write them down/take a voice memo/whatever as soon as you wake up!)

Then there’s brushing my teeth…

And showering…

Working in the garden…

Or mowing the lawn…

Even taking a walk…

(Once again, try to keep something with you so that you can record these ideas in case you can’t immediately go back to work on your writing!)

The commonality between these is both that you’re taking a break from thinking about your project and also allowing your mind to wander while doing something mundane (though perhaps stimulating in a different way…light, smell, temperature, visually). It’s paradoxical how not thinking about your writing leads you to have breakthroughs about your writing, but there’s some actual science behind it.

The final thing that I’ve found useful is to talk to someone else about where or why you’re stuck. One of the great things about being here on tumblr this year is that our little community of active Hosie authors has reached critical mass, so there’s always someone around to talk to if we’re stuck on something. Sometimes that takes the form of a post and I get comments from others; other times it’s a chat in tumblr Messages. You can also engage a beta reader or IRL friends, or the like, too. (And sometimes just figuring out how to explain to someone else how or where you’re blocked on a work is enough to get you unstuck.)

There’s another article I’ve posted about which is a summary from an academic paper on writer’s block with a list of strategies employed by writers surveyed for the paper. I’ve broadly covered most of them here, but it’s worth glancing at the list I quoted in my post for a few other specific variations.

I hope some of this is helpful. We’re all different as writers, and how and why we get blocked on various things we’re writing are also different, so don’t worry if what works for me doesn’t work for you…keep trying things.

Thanks again for the Ask, and happy writing! (And feel free to follow-up if you have more specific questions about anything I’ve mentioned.)

#ask #writers block #writing struggles #writing advice #writing process #writing resources

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ashtraythief · 1 year ago

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Hey! So ive been a long time reader of ur underneath verse (since like.. 2018? Maybe even 2017?) and i just wanted to drop by and tell u how much im enjoying rereading ur writing! Like in general i think this is one of my fav fics series just bc its so extensive and well done and thought out and fleshed out so well it works so well? Like seeing all the different angles and the way u choose to frame things is really fun for me and kinda inspires my own writing in some aspects.

Ive never read the whole thing all in one go before so ive decided to do that right now and im just about done with the pied pipers song - more specifically willys chapter. And i kinda needed to let u know that ur series really stands out to me just bc of how many glimpses into other characters and all these different povs of the same thing like on it stands out on a technical level but then ur actual writing of these things is so good and compelling and like as an outsider pov bitch it hits the spot for me so well? Like ur writing is never stale and its always interesting.

I specifically wanted to take this time to mention that i really love willy and winstons characters and how u went about it. Like im ngl the way u wrote them kinda makes me want to cry tears of happiness for them bc they have found ppl who appreciate them and they have connections with other ppl but then the bittersweet tang of jensen and willy is kinda fucking me up rn /pos djjdjdjd like in general u really do the bittersweet jensen is stuck undercover angle really well and it HURTS so good

But yes i dont really have a good concise message or comment to leave beyond the fact that i keep stopping every few sentences to get up and jump bc im so excited about what im reading i need to get rid of that excess energy lol so sorry if this is all over the place and a really messy message! I just really wanted to let u know how much im enjoying reading it all rn. Thank you so much for sharing ur writing with us and for continuing to write for this series its so fun!

omg nonnie, I'm kinda speechless here (this is the second wonderful message in two days so I'm kinda overwhelmed. is it send wonderful messages week somewhere??)

I just am so grateful and this message made me so happy. never apologize for maybe not having a five point outline lol, this is amazing.

The underneath verse has always been my fandom baby, so praise for it is already amazing, but the pied piper fic and Winston and Willy epsecially, it just makes my heart so full. Ten years ago, they definitely started out as stock characters of mob drivers, because I didn't think this fic would get so big, but then it did, and Willy especially became a real character. a) because I knew he'd fall in love with Jensen too, as anyone does really and b) because I looooove the bittersweet undercover Jensen shtick where I write from other character's POV and the reader knows how wrong they're getting it but they don't *mu har har* (yeah I'm a little mean sometime. sorry?)

but in all seriousness, the Willy chapter, I'ev been working on that for months. And I kept adding things and rewriting things and trying to get it perfect even though I know that most people who read the story mostly care about Jared and Jensen (which is totally fair and understandable), but I care about him and there are a few people out there who do too (and I love you for it, so much), but with Willy, I just wante to do this /right/. I've come to love him so much, and he's come to be so important to Jensen, it felt like he and Winston really deserve their own story told even though that's kind of ridiculous because they're not real, but they're a little real to me now. All this to say, nonnie, this comment and your appreciation of Willy means so fucking much to me. And my poor alpha reader who read like four drafts of this (seriously, M. is a saint) and my beta readers who then had to beta four iterations of this. To know that this effort is appreciated this much honestly make me cry a little (I am not having the greatest time right now, so I cry easily but the point still stands. Thank you.)

This message was actually such an energy boost I'm currently trying to fix the next timestamp, lol so I'll have something to post next month. You're a true treasure, nonnie <3

#anon ask #underneath verse

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byoldervine · 1 year ago

Text

In honour of this post getting over 600+ notes (holy frick thank you!) I’ll be adding to it!

How To Always Have Writing Ideas… (Part 2)

When Time Away Doesn’t Help:

1. Reread. Read the last paragraph or two back to see what flows naturally. If that doesn’t help, reread the whole chapter. If not, the chapter before that. If one chapter back still doesn’t get you anywhere, don’t bother going further; it looks like another method may be required

2. Cheat sheet. Check your plot points to see where you’re supposed to go from here. If Point A is the last plot point where you felt comfortable and Point C is where you need to go next, what does Point B need to tell the reader in order to connect the two?

3. Skip. I know that lots of people, myself included, absolutely hate skipping because they don’t know how to fit it all together neatly afterwards, but I’ve been getting caught up on a few scenes of my own WIP lately and after just leaving a marker with the barebones of what I need to do and then moving on to the next point I’m comfortable writing, my productivity has shot up. Both times I did this more recently, I ended up meeting my weekly word count goal on a Monday morning because the inspiration and motivation were able to just flow unhindered

When Inspiration Is Lost:

1. Stealing Research. Read books, watch movies, consume story-telling media. Take parts where you think “I like this, I’d love to add this to my writing” and tweak it, like I thought when I saw The Owl House giving their human protagonist glyph magic. Take parts where you think “How did they come up with such a good concept and execute it so poorly even I could do better” and fix it, like I thought when I saw certain aspects of Miraculous Ladybug (I basically watch it as a staple of what not to do writing-wise if literary analysis is your thing)

2. From fic to fricked. The main concept of my current WIP Byoldervine originally came from The Unholy Fic™️ that I wrote in lockdown after I realised that I could just change a few names around and have a full-on standalone story that nobody would ever suspect was inspired by that specific media. If you wanna try and guess, I’ll be ridiculously impressed if anyone gets it right. But the point is, any old fanfiction you might have written as a dumb teen can be used as a jumping point

3. Make your ass jealous of all the shit coming out of your mouth. Start pacing your room rambling about the first thing you think of, even if it’s random BS, and keep up that flow. Even if you’re saying “I don’t even know what to say next, where am I even going with this, how is this supposed to help, that damn Tumblr blog lied to me to make me look stupid” then first off, you’re absolutely right, second, sometimes letting our random thoughts go unfiltered can help us to externally process it better than we can internally process it. This is what I end up doing every time I go on a logic loop about a show or a book and I’ve found it not only gets that out of my head since I’ve put real world words to it, but it also leaves me comparing it to my writing and getting excited about what I’ve learned so I can apply it or improve it in my own work

How To Always Have Writing Ideas…

For A New Story:

1. Keep a list. Any time you have one of those sudden bursts of inspiration in the middle of writing a separate story, don’t quit your current WIP or pretend you’ll ‘just remember it’, put it into a separate list. You can always go back to this later on

2. Writing prompts. Look them up, use random word generators, pick a random object you can see, whatever helps you come up with any idea at all. Write a few paragraphs. Can it evolve from there?

3. People watch. Go to a public place and make up backstories for the strangers you come across. That man in the hat is using it to hide his elf ears. That woman with the bright pink hair didn’t dye it, she’s secretly the main character of an anime trying to dodge all the tropes and cliches. That toddler is actually a guardian angel reincarnated to watch over their new baby sibling. What brings them to this place? Where did they come from? Where are they going next?

To Continue An Existing Story:

1. Act it out. Say the words aloud, act out what your characters are doing, get props or people to act off of if you need to. See what feels like the most natural progression of the moment

2. Coffee shop AU, or other substitutional one-shot. Good for establishing dynamics between two or more characters, or even just working out a lone character’s day-to-day. Just write a few paragraphs about your characters entering a coffee shop or similar appropriate establishment/ordinary location. What do they do? What do they order to eat/drink? What do they say to each other? How do they treat the staff and other customers? If all else fails, write what they do after they leave, as if it were an ordinary day for them

3. Rubber duck it. This is something programmers use to work out where they went wrong in their code, but I’ve found it can work for figuring out story stuff as well. What you do is get a rubber duck, or any other object of focus, and start explaining your problem to it out loud. In this case you can read your chapter to the duck, or even give it the full run-down of the plot so far. Warning; side effects may include getting frustrated that the problem was right in front of you and subsequently throwing the duck

For Both:

1. Writing graveyards. I talked a bit about them in a previous post, but writing graveyards are basically just the folder you store your deleted scenes in instead of yeeting them into the void. Reread those, see if they have anything you can recontextualise or repurpose

2. Combine ideas. My WIP Byoldervine is a combination of two separate plots I had that I realised I’d be able to combine - twice. I first realised I could put together my ‘angel and demon heroes protecting humans from a war between heaven and hell’ story and my ‘quest through the fantasy realm to find the ingredients to a cure for a dying god’ story into the same universe as two sides of the same story as a duology. Then I realised I could just remove a few characters, tweak a few plot points and mash them completely together into one book. Combining them works wonders and minimises worldbuilding

3. Go out with friends or family. I guarantee that the one time you’ll be flooded with inspiration is when you don’t have an opportunity to write it down

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mochamamii · 4 years ago

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yandere!taeyong: no secrets.

▹ a/n : hello loves, I chose a really shitty title for this but whatever loll this is something I wrote in like a day, sometimes I write absolute filth for no reason, this is one of those times.

▹ triggers : yandere!au, detailed smut, unprotected sex + creampie, mirror sex, daddy kink but like not super heavy tho

▹ pairing : lee taeyong x chubbyfem!reader

▹ synopsis : keeping secrets from your yandere boyfriend probably isn’t the best idea...unlesss they’re lee taeyong (even then that’s risky bizness my friend.)

••

Taeyong sighed as he stared down at the text message on his phone, his grip on the steering wheel tightening until his knuckles turned white. He peered out the window of his car to glance across the street once more, staring at your apartment building.

He was parked across the street, his car parked far enough away that you wouldn’t be able to recognize his car from someone else’s.

Taeyong was immediately reminded of the lit cigarette he had in his other hand when the unflicked ash fell, slightly singeing the patch of skin on his leg where his ripped skinny jeans had left him exposed. He cursed under his breath, rolling the window down just enough to toss the still lit bud on the ground.

He was so distracted by you, more specifically, the blatant lie he had just caught you in that he completely forgot about his surroundings for a moment, causing him to let the cigarette burn almost entirely without ever flicking the ash.

You see, you and Taeyong have been dating for just a few months now. You were in that weird limbo stage where you were transitioning from casual dating to exclusivity. At least for you that’s how it was.

Taeyong had already moved past that stage months ago. He was serious about you, he was just being courteous by allowing you time to feel the same. But he was steadily growing impatient with you and all your sudden antics.

Things were going perfectly fine in the beginning. You were perfect, every bit of innocence and naivety that Taeyong wanted. You checked off all the boxes for him. And he didn’t need you to tell him that you felt the same way. Which is why it was pissing him off that you seemed to suddenly start pulling away from him slowly.

You’d begun acting strange. Avoiding him lately, whereas before you always obediently jumped at the chance to spend time with him. You also had refused to be intimate with him for a few weeks now, which wouldn’t have been a problem on it’s own. Taeyong was patient when it came to things like that and he was willing to go slow.

But in this instance Taeyong felt he had a right to be upset. Even in the few short months you’d been dating, Taeyong had managed to turn you into a full on nympho. Molding you into his perfect little sex kitten, ready to do whatever he wanted and whenever. What changed?

All of these things, amongst others, have led Taeyong to conclude that you obviously must be seeing another man. What else could it be? Things were going so well and then you suddenly changed up without any explanation.

And most recently Taeyong had caught you red handed in a lie.

He texted you earlier in the day to ask if he could come and see you. You replied back saying you had been at work. An obvious lie because Taeyong had been parked outside your house since last night, watching your front door to see if he could catch anyone coming in or out. He felt bad for stalking you, especially since he vowed to himself that he would try to be less invasive this time around.

He really liked you and didn’t want to scare you off.

So he left, giving up after nearly four hours of watching your house and not seeing anything out of the ordinary. He had only come back this afternoon in hopes that he might catch you on your lunch break. You worked nearby and it wasn’t uncommon for you to come home during this time.

He got excited when he pulled up to see your car parked out front already, the need to see you face to face building inside him. He hadn’t seen you in nearly a week, you claimed you were swamped with work and that’s why you didn��t have much time to spend with him like you normally did. Taeyong could tell you were lying to him, he had to stop himself from marching up to your apartment right then and there confronting you about your lies.

But he wanted to be sure. He needed concrete proof that he was right about what had been going on with you.

So he texted you a second time, asking if you had decided to come home for lunch today. He had seen you upstairs in your bedroom window, moving around, he knew you were home. If you texted him back with a different response he could confirm you were lying to him.

Unsurprisingly enough, you replied back, saying you were still at work and would probably be working late tonight.

He scoffed as he reread your message. Rolling his eyes in annoyance as he peered up at your bedroom window, straining his eyes to try and see what you were doing exactly.

Taeyong stayed put in the car for a while, trying to decide what the best course of action would be. He wanted to just march up there to you but he didn’t know what he’d even say.

Quite frankly, Taeyong was a little embarrassed. He wished he didn’t feel so affected by you. If it were any other girl he’d have dropped them a long time ago, deciding they weren’t worth the trouble.

But this was you we were talking about...His precious baby girl, the girl who he was actively trying to change for. He had been pegged as the crazy, overbearing, sometimes even violent boyfriend by nearly all of his ex’s.

They weren’t wrong actually. Taeyong was all of those things. But he was trying to suppress that kind of behavior just for you. He wanted you to want him too, he didn’t want to feel like he was trapping you into a relationship with him. Things were so different with you.

As angry and as hurt Taeyong was because of you lying to him, he still couldn’t bring himself to actually be angry with you. He was upset about the situation, but not at you. Honestly, once he saw you in person he wasn’t sure if he’d want to raise his voice and yell at you, or bury his head between your thick thighs.

God...it had been so long since he was inside you.

Only a week actually, but even that was too long for Taeyong.

Not wanting to sit and wrestle with his thoughts any longer Taeyong climbed out of the car. He jogged up the front steps to your door, trying to measure his breathing as he did so. He almost raised his hand to knock until he remembered you always kept a spare under a nearby potted plant.

He had to check under a few before he picked up the right one.

With your spare key now in hand, Taeyong could slip through the front door quietly. Even though during his stakeouts he never saw anyone go in or out of the house he still wondered if there was a chance you were being unfaithful. If not that, what else could it be?

Whatever it was, he was going to confront you about it today. No longer would he be left in the dark like this.

He unlocked the door, slipping in as quiet as a mouse. He pushed the door closed behind him, gently as not to alert you, wherever you were in the house. He kicked his shoes off at the door, knowing he’d be much quieter with sock clad feet instead of the heavy boots he had on previously.

Taeyong’s ears perked up as he heard you drop something on the floor upstairs. Considering the part of the ceiling he heard the noise from he guessed you were in the bathroom upstairs. Taeyong’s feet carried him up the stairs to your bedroom, the door was left open ajar already.

Carefully, he peeked through the crack to ensure you weren’t in the bedroom, even through the tiny space in the doorway Taeyong could see your figure standing in the bathroom connected to your bedroom. He pushed the door open enough to slip inside.

Taeyong stood under the arch of the doorway to your bathroom, watching you with curious eyes, your back was facing him so you were still unaware of his presence behind you, he could see you were struggling to open something.

Taeyong was about to speak up and announce himself to you until he took quick note of how your frustration turned to panic as you furiously twisted and pulled at the cap of…a pill bottle?

Now Taeyong was really curious.

With one last heave you released a large puff of air as the cap twisted off the bottle, Taeyong quickly sprung into action, taking two long strides across the expanse of the bedroom to get to where you stood in the bathroom.

He was too late though and you had already swallowed one of whatever those pills were.

“Taeyong?” You jumped, startled as Taeyong snatched one of your wrists to spin you around to face him.

Your cheeks turned red as you tried to inconspicuously hide your other hand that still held the bottle of pills behind your back.

“Give it.” Is all Taeyong said, his grip on your wrist tightening.

You shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, whenever Taeyong spoke in that demanding tone of his you’d always instantly obey and comply with whatever it was he wanted, not wanting to piss him off further.

But this time…this time you just couldn’t. You were too embarrassed, your hand felt frozen in place behind your back.

Growling, Taeyong spun you around and pushed you against the bathroom counter, pinning your arm behind your back as he retrieved the bottle of pills for himself.

You nearly toppled over because of his quick movements catching you so off guard. His firm hold on your arm pinned behind your back, catapulted you into the bathroom counter, your breasts plopping against the cool marble countertop.

Taeyong squinted his eyes to read the tiny print on the bottle, “What are these?” He asked, unfamiliar with the name of the pills.

You glanced up at him in the mirror, his jaw clenching as he tried to decipher what the long complicated name printed on the bottle meant.

It was as if you’d forgotten how to speak. Everything had happened so quickly and your mind was still taking a minute to process it all.

You had spent months trying to keep this one secret hidden from Taeyong. You went to any lengths possible if it meant protecting your secret. Even lying to him when necessary, which had become pretty frequent as of late.

All of it was catching up with you now.

Today would probably mark the end of your relationship, you were sure of it, there’s no way Taeyong would even be able to stomach the sight of you once he knows the truth. He’d probably think you were pathetic, too pathetic to be his girlfriend.

And you just couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eye as your tower of lies came crashing down around you.

Your head fell, hanging shamefully as you tried to ignore Taeyong’s burning gaze.

Taeyong was growing impatient with you, wanting answers and wanting them now. His fingers tangled themselves in your hair, gripping your roots not so gently as he pulled your head back to force you to stare straight ahead, so you were looking directly at him in the mirror.

Your back arched instinctively as you stretched your body out to follow his hand, wincing slightly in pain as you did so.

“Tae…what are you doing here?-

You were cut off by Taeyong slamming his hips into your backside, pinning your own hips firmly against the counter as he trapped you under his weight. His hand in your hair moved to wrap around your throat from behind.

“I’m growing impatient with you Y/N. Tell me now and stop avoiding the question.” Taeyong said

“Tell me.”

Your eyes were slightly red, a little teary as you nervously glanced up at him once before parting your lips to speak.

Your eyes searched his black ones for approval, it’s like you were silently asking him without saying it,

Will you still want me after this?

Taeyong only softened temporarily as he took note of your reluctance, he used his free hand to rub small circles on your back to soothe you.

“T-They’re…appetite suppressants.” You answered shamefully.

Taeyong’s grip on you loosened as he listened.

“Appetite Suppressants?” He echoed, glancing down at the bottle and back at you.

Taeyong felt foolish and annoyed. You had been so secretive and sneaky lately, he was sure it was because you had another man in your life, not diet pills?

Taeyong screwed the cap of the bottle off with ease, dumping the rest of the pills down the toilet.

You had to swallow an audible groan. You had paid good money for those pills. They weren’t cheap over the counter pills, you had gone to your doctor to have them prescribe something stronger for you. Watching the pills be carelessly flushed down the toilet made you wince internally.

“You don’t need these. Stop taking them.” Taeyong demanded as he placed the empty bottle down on the counter.

“Understand?” He asked you, displeased with your lack of response.

“But…Taeyong. I need those.” You breathed softly, slowly raising up from the sink to turn around and face him.

“I need them Taeyong. I can’t just give them up, not yet, not till I’m-

“Why not?” He questioned.

Fat, ugly tears started to roll down your cheeks as you swallowed the lump in your throat, “I’m still not perfect enough for you yet.” You whispered softly.

It was hard to say it out loud but it was true. You constantly felt like a tub of lard next to Taeyong. You didn’t want to feel that way anymore. You wanted to walk beside him with pride. You couldn’t do that. Not yet at least. Not with your current body.

Taeyong really didn’t like that you were fighting him on this. You were so naturally submissive, always going out of your way to avoid conflict with people especially Taeyong, he could say almost anything and you would listen and obey to whatever he wanted or expected from you.

Mostly because it was just in your nature to be more on the submissive side, but also because you felt like you were incredibly lucky to have someone like Taeyong, who were you to be making demands?

Even when there were times that you disagreed on something and wanted to vocalize your opinion, Taeyong would whisper in your ear how much he loved you and how you just needed to let go and trust him.

Usually it worked too.

But Taeyong was in no mood to be that gentle with you, not that it would matter anyways. This is the one thing you know that you will always fight him on.

Your body.

Taeyong never entertained any conversations with you when it came to your weight and feeling insecure about your body. He waved them off as you being “silly” or something like that.

It wasn’t that Taeyong didn’t care. It’s just that he’s a yandere and has never known how to process any of his feelings in a relatively healthy way.

It’s easier for him to ignore the issue rather than confront it. He’s afraid he won’t know how to make you feel better. He doesn’t know how he can make you see the beauty that he sees.

“Don’t make me the reason that you’re desecrating your body this way.” Taeyong hissed, landing a harsh slap against your ass cheek for emphasis.

You yelped, already feeling the numb burning sensation spread across your afflicted skin.

Taeyong grabbed hold of your hair again, raising the top half of your body off the counter until your back was pressed flush up against his chest. He snaked one arm around your waist, locking you in place against him whilst the other remained tangled in your hair.

Your head fell back against his shoulder as you followed his hand to escape the painful friction at your roots.

You fell into place so naturally against Taeyong, your bodies molding together so perfectly.

Taeyong loved the way your body was so soft and squishy, he loved your thick full curves, your deliciously plump body is what had initially attracted him to you.

How could you possibly think that something already so perfect needed to be changed?

Taeyong pressed a gentle kiss to your neck, moving to nibble at your sensitive earlobe, “Darling. What’s it gonna take, hm?”

“What’s it gonna take to get you to stop obsessing over this?” Taeyong asked, his free hand beginning to roam your body.

“To stop…saying all these mean things about yourself?” Taeyong’s voice trailed as his hand slid down the length of your abdomen, his long slender fingers gliding across all of your rolls and stretch marks.

All you had on was an oversized t-shirt, Taeyong’s to be exact. One that he’d left over here before.

Seeing you in his clothes sent waves of electricity directly to the head of his cock, making him harden. He wanted you to wear his clothes all of the time, he wanted his smell to linger on your skin, letting everyone know you were his.

As much as he loved seeing you in his shirt he couldn’t wait to rip it off you.

Especially now with the way your hard nipples were poking through the thin cotton material, practically begging him to turn you around and assault them with his teeth and tongue.

He couldn’t wait.

He was going to do every dirty, lewd thing imaginable to you tonight. No part of your body would be left untouched once he was done.

He needed you to know that you’re beautiful. He had to show you just how in love with you and your body that he was. He didn’t know how to translate those feelings into words, just action.

Taeyong released his hold on your hair to be able to use both of his hands as he groped and fondled your body.

His hands moved up to your breasts, cupping them in his warm large hands through your shirt.

He kneaded them, moving to tug at your nipples through the fabric to make you mewl.

“Do you feel that baby?” Taeyong asked as he rolled his hips into your backside, his cock standing at full attention now, allowing you to easily feel his erection through his jeans.

“Do you see how badly I want you? Look at how hard I am and I’ve barely touched you.” Taeyong said , groaning as he rocked his hips against you once more. Loving the feeling of your round backside rubbing up against his cock. You were wet already and growing impatient with Taeyong’s teasing. Your clit throbbed painfully, desperately needing attention. You rutted your backside back against Taeyong, begging him to take you already.

Taeyong raised one of your legs up to rest on top of the counter, giving him perfect access to your pussy.

His shirt on you wasn’t long enough to cover the full expanse of your ass so as your leg raised up on the counter, your glistening folds were revealed to him.

“Do you think you deserve to cum? After all you’ve done, all the sneaking around and the hiding? Do you really think I should give you any relief?” Taeyong teased as he used his fingers to slide up and down your slick slit, collecting your juices on his fingers.

“Please…” You begged with a pout, pushing back against him as you felt his fingers on you.

“Aht. Aht. No moving around or I’ll have to pin you against the counter like before.” He threatened as he stopped you from grinding your hips down against his fingers.

Feeling defeated you sighed, relaxing into his touch as you tried not to think about how badly you wanted to cum.

“Don’t look away from the mirror or I’ll stop.” Taeyong warned.

You nearly turned your head away momentarily to peek at what he was doing but decided against it at the last second.

Taeyong knelt down until he was level with your pussy. His warm breath fanned your skin sending shivers down your spine.

Taeyong’s soft wet tongue licked a single stripe along your slit, stopping at your clit to give it a single kiss before enclosing his soft lips around your bundle of nerves.

Your mouth dropped open as a moan fell past your lips.

Taeyong’s tongue worked quickly, alternating between lapping at your folds and sucking on your engorged clit.

You gripped the edge of the counter for support. You wanted to pull away from him when the pleasure became too intense but he smacked your ass whenever you moved so much as an inch away.

He released your clit from his mouth with an audible popping sound as he did so. Standing back up at his full height Taeyong took pleasure in seeing the way your eyes followed him in the mirror, eagerly waiting for his next move.

Taeyong unbuckled his belt and tugged his jeans down just enough, his cock bouncing up and slapping his abdomen as he released it from the confines of his briefs. A bead of precum was leaking from his head. Taeyong teased you by rubbing the head of his cock against your folds.

“Do you want to come? Wanna come as I pound this perfect pussy of yours with my cock? I don’t think you deserve it. You’ve been a bad kitten lately haven’t you? Sneaking around, hiding things from me, saying awful things about yourself, and making me worry…” Taeyong said, resting his chin against your shoulder as he met your gaze in the mirror.

“I’m sorry…” You whimpered, grinding your ass back against him.

“Are you really though?” Taeyong asked, his eyes narrowing at you.

“Yes. I’m so sorry.” You whined, growing desperate for release.

“Are you ever going to do something like this again, kitten?” He asked, slipping his hands under your shirt to roll your nipples in between his fingers.

“I won’t. I swear.”

Taeyong smirked, loving the sound of desperation in your voice.

“Do you promise? Tell daddy you promise to never do this again and he’ll give you what you want okay?”

He didn’t have to tell you twice before you were repeating over and over like a mantra, “I promise I’ll never do it again, daddy.” You fluttered your lashes at him in the mirror, hoping he’d sense your sincerity.

That was all Taeyong needed to see before backing up and sinking his cock deep into your pussy.

He groaned as your walls hungrily sucked him in, greedily accepting every inch of him.

You arched your back, raising your ass even higher in the air for him.

Taeyong was relentless in how he fucked you. His nails painfully dug into the flesh on your soft hips as he held onto them for support whilst he pounded you from behind.

“Do you hear how wet you are? This pussy is practically milking my cock.” Taeyong moaned, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror.

He was right. You were so wet, the obscene squelching noises your pussy was making around his cock bounced off the four walls of the bathroom.

“Taeyong…” You moaned.

He moved one hand off your hip to rest against your hand that was lying on the counter, he grabbed your hand to lace your fingers together.

“That’s right baby. Look at yourself, look at how well you’re taking my cock…such a good girl for me, my beautiful good girl.”

You could’ve come right then and there just because of how dirty the words coming from Taeyong’s mouth were.

You felt warm and happy as he praised you, calling you a good girl for taking him so well.

Taeyong continued drilling into you, never losing the rhythm he had set or the speed he was going at. He kept repeating in your ear over and over how pretty you looked and how beautiful you were.

Usually compliments like that went in one ear and out the other, you never liked to dwell on them for long because you just didn’t believe them.

But now…right here, right now. Watching yourself in the mirror as Taeyong fucked you, the faces you were making, and the way your body instinctively rolled and grinded back against him.

Even you couldn’t deny the beauty of the scene before you.

You could see him in the mirror, watching as his hands gripped and groped at your flesh, his desire and want for you evident on his face, evident in the manner at which he was thrusting deep inside you as if his life depended on it.

Thrusting with a desperation that matched yours, you needed this, to feel him inside of you, filling and stretching your walls with a subtle sweet pain.

“Taeyong, I’m gonna come.” You warned, feeling yourself clench around him.

The essence of your shared arousal started to drip down your thigh.

“Then come for me.” Taeyong answered, reaching his hand around your waist to rub your clit, propelling you further into your state of euphoria.

You rocked your hips back against him, chasing after your own orgasm.

You moved to throw your head back and rest it on his shoulder but Taeyong was quick to push your head forward, reminding you with a slap on your ass to not look away from the mirror.

“I want you to watch as you come on my cock.” Taeyong growled, determination clear in his voice as he unsheathed his cock completely from your warmth only to slam his hips back into yours.

You squealed as Taeyong angled his thrusts upward to hit your g-spot. Your eyes welled with tears, and your hand gripped the edge of the counter as you braced yourself.

It only took Taeyong a few more strokes before you were clenching around him uncontrollably, your pussy creaming on his cock. You collapsed on the counter, too tired to hold yourself up anymore. You winced a little as Taeyong continued to drill into you, the pleasure turning into a slight burn as he overstimulated you.

You wiggled your hips, trying to bring your hiked up leg down from the counter whilst also inching away from Taeyong’s thrusts.

“Stay still.” Taeyong grunted, pinching your outer thigh.

Taeyong abused your poor cunt until he was ready to fill you with his seed. He made sure he was stuffed deep inside of you when he painted your walls with his cum.

Once the two of you had caught a minute to catch your breath, Taeyong carefully pulled out of you, making a mess between your thighs as he did so. Your empty pussy was now clenching on air, inadvertently pushing Taeyong’s cum out of your hole causing it to run down your inner thighs.

Taeyong leaned down to kiss the back of your neck, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as you came down from your high.

Finally, Taeyong pushed himself off of you to allow you to rise up from the counter. He turned you around to face him so he could properly kiss you on the lips.

“Wait, where are you going?” Taeyong asked as you kissed him before untangling your limbs from his.

“To shower?” You answered, one hand already on the nozzle of the tap to turn the shower on.

You were a sweaty, sticky mess, in desperate need of a nice long shower.

Taeyong smirked, pulling you back into his chest, “We’re still not done here.”

Your face must’ve said it all because before you got the chance to whine about being tired Taeyong was already pressing you up against the wall.

“Spread your legs again. Nice and wide for me...Daddy’s going to make sure you get all clean again…”

#nct x reader #nct taeyong #nct smut #nct smut reactions #nct yandere smut #nct yandere #yandere smut #yandere nct #chubby reader #chubby smut #chubby!reader #lee taeyong #lee taeyong smut #taeyong smut #yandere taeyong

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rnelodyy · 4 years ago

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c!Dream and the rules

(/dsmp /rp, all names refer to characters, not content creators)

I think one of the most striking parts of Exile is something that I rarely see talked about, and it’s Dream’s rules. Or rather, how his rules were made to be used as justification to hurt Tommy.

The thing about exile is that, outside of the initial rule of “Don’t go back to L’Manburg”, Dream never told Tommy the rules, yet constantly operated under the assumption that Tommy already knew them, and had accepted them. The rules also changed constantly, without Tommy ever being notified until he was already in trouble.

The second time Dream told Tommy to put his armor in the hole, he didn’t tell Tommy to do that right away. Instead, the conversation went like this (slightly edited to remove stammering and unrelated dialogue).

Dream: Do you have, uh… something you wanna put on the floor here? Tommy: Yes. (drops two pieces of red concrete as Dream digs a hole) Dre-eam! You’re evil. You’re evil. Dream: Anything else, Tommy? Tommy: Nope! Dream: Oh c’mon, I know there’s something else you wanna drop down here. Tommy: (panicking slightly) No, there… (messages BBH “take this and run”, throws him the disc BBH had gifted him earlier) Um… I don’t reckon there is! (pause) Dream: Okay, are you suuuure? Tommy: YES. Dream: Alright… How ‘bout your armor, Tommy? Tommy: Well, no, this is- I actually earned this myself. Dream: I know you did! Tommy: Leave me alone. Dream: Just drop it in the hole, Tommy. Tommy: Wh- no, NO, you can’t just come and demand things from me! I’ve been exiled, I’ve done your shit, what do you mean?! Dream: (sing-song) Tommy… Tommy: What? (Dream hits Tommy with his axe, taking over half his health) Tommy: (screams, drops his armor) OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY OKAY!

The only rule Tommy was aware of at this time was that he wasn’t allowed to go back to L’Manburg. Dream had taken his armor the night before, but there was no indication that he expected Tommy to do this constantly. Taking his armor upon initially arriving at Logstedshire made some kind of sense, allowing Tommy to keep it would run the risk of him trying to fight his way back into L’Manburg. Taking his new, very shitty armor (seriously it was an iron chestplate and a pair of golden leggings he got from a ruined portal chest) made no sense at all, so the fact that Tommy was confused and refused to cooperate at first isn’t unexpected in the slightest.

And the thing is… Dream was aware of this fact. Throughout the conversation, he never really sounded annoyed, and was actively teasing Tommy at times. This isn’t a good thing btw, it’s a sign that he was fully aware that Tommy didn’t know what he wanted from him, and that that would create a situation where Dream could “put him in his place” as it were.

If you’re a parent, and your kid does something that’s not allowed, without knowing it’s not allowed, you don’t start off with a beating. You sit them down, calmly explain the rules to them and explain why those rules are there, then send them on their way with the knowledge that they shouldn't do it again.

This interaction wasn’t an instance of Tommy acting out and Dream correcting him. This interaction was a trap. Dream set Tommy up to fail by not telling him the rules beforehand, and when Tommy offered even the slightest bit of resistance and asked why he needed to drop his armor, Dream jumped straight to beating him. It’s a powerplay, plain and simple.

This is demonstrated again with the destruction of Logstedshire. Dream got pissed that Tommy disobeyed him by having hidden chests with gear under his house, and retaliated by destroying everything Tommy had built, destroying every item he’d collected, killing his pet and only foodsource, barring him from the Nether, banning everyone except himself from visiting, and telling him to start over from scratch after a whole lecture about how Tommy betrayed him.

Again, I wanna point out some specific lines from this lecture that illustrate my point very well.

Dream: You were lying to me! You were lying to me. Tommy: No- Why was I lying?! Dream: What do you mean, why were you lying?! Tommy: I wasn’t hi- I wasn’t- Dream: You hid things in a chest knowing they were things I wouldn’t want you to have! And you hid it in a way that way I would never find it!

Except Tommy didn’t know that. The contents of the stash were all items that Tommy had obtained previously without any issue (diamonds, emeralds, iron, ender pearls, some pickaxes, and some purely sentimental items like flowers, a jukebox, and pictures of Tubbo and L’Manburg). In fact, the vast majority of them came from Tommy’s aboveground storage, which Dream had full access to, and had looked through before!

Dream also never said Tommy wasn’t allowed to hide stuff, and there was nothing to suggest he didn’t want Tommy to keep secrets from him.

There’s been a theory floating around for a while that Dream knew about Tommy’s item stash beforehand, since it was a very strange place to dig a hole (like, right in front of the house in the center of Logstedshire itself, instead of out in the plains where the TNT wouldn’t damage any structures), and Tommy had previously forgotten to cover up the entrance ladder. While Dream hadn’t looked inside the house, he would’ve definitely heard Tommy place the block back.

If this theory is correct, then this was yet another trap. Dream knew Tommy had a hidden room, and instead of just saying “hey, I don’t want you to have a hidden stash, go put this back and fill in the room” (which would’ve still been bullshit btw), he went COMPLETELY ballistic, destroyed EVERYTHING Tommy had, and while doing it, kept admonishing Tommy for betraying him, said shit like “I thought we were friends”, and even accused him of preparing to attack Dream. Again, a powerplay.

Hell, even the exile conflict itself is this! Tommy was exiled for griefing the king’s property while being a high-ranking official in L’Manburg. Except Fundy, the then-president’s son, CONSTANTLY griefed Eret’s shit after the L’Manburg war, ranging from ripping down one of their towers to “shrink” it, filling another tower with water, and multiple elaborate plots to steal the throne from under their nose. But apparently, between all of that shit and the exile-conflict, the rules were silently changed, meaning Dream could exile Tommy for breaking a couple blocks and placing some rude signs in George’s house. Even the punishment itself was changed without warning, as Tommy went from being exiled from L’Manburg to exiled from “everywhere that’s ever been touched.”

...I was originally gonna make a different point here. I may put it in the reblogs, because I still think it’s very interesting. But, in the middle of writing this essay I had to stop because it was late, then I spent the entire next day packing up because I’m in the middle of a move. It's now the next evening, I'm sat in my new room, on my camping bed, I opened this doc because I pretty much forgot what I typed, I reread it, and then I realized… This isn’t an isolated series of events. This is a pattern for Dream.

Before Tommy first joined the server, there were only three set rules: no stealing, no griefing, and no killing people. Except by that point, those rules weren’t enforced at all. In fact, Dream broke all three at once at one point, by killing George and burning his diamond armor because he didn’t feel it was fair that George got to run around in full diamond when everyone else still had iron.

Tommy joined the server, and broke the rules like everyone else. He stole shit, broke shit, killed George for funsies… and he got exiled for it. Seriously, they dumped him in an empty snowfield for breaking rules that nobody had enforced for weeks. So technically, the Exile-arc isn’t even the first time something like this has happened to him!

During the events that would eventually spark the Disc War, Sapnap stole a bunch of Tommy’s items (including the only Netherite chestplate on the server at the time), and told him he’d only give the stuff back if Tommy helped him with a conflict he had with Ponk. Long story short, Dream tried to intervene and was killed by Tommy and Sapnap, and Dream stole Tommy’s discs to force him to apologize. He then kept the discs, and the Disc War followed. Sapnap, despite being the aggressor and arguably forcing Tommy to participate in the conflict, was never punished.

This proves not only that the rules can change whenever Dream feels like it, but that they’re arbitrarily enforced. Dream refuses to punish his friends for the same crimes he endlessly fucks over Tommy for.

L’Manburg was created in part because of the fact that the rules were unevenly enforced. Tommy, Wilbur, and later Tubbo were repeatedly killed, stolen from, imprisoned, and even held hostage for very minor crimes, while the people killing, imprisoning, kidnapping and stealing from them were able to do so without impunity.

This was also the point where Dream just started making up new rules; there was no rule against having governments on the server, or making a separate area where Dream’s rules wouldn’t apply, so Dream banned governments, and used this new rule as an excuse to kill them, take their items, and tear their land to shreds.

And that’s another thing: the punishments for breaking Dream’s rules are INCREDIBLY harsh.

Kill him non-canonically one time? Your most prized possessions will now be dangled over your head and used to hurt you for the next few months.

Make a country with different laws that doesn’t infringe on anyone’s territory, has no desire to expand, is explicitly pacifistic and open to trade negotiations? You’ll be forced to fight a war you’re in no way equipped to fight, you’ll be betrayed and murdered and have your land destroyed in front of your very eyes until you literally have no choice but to surrender.

Mildly vandalize the king’s house, which nobody else has ever been punished for? You’ll be dragged into court, exiled from your home, and subjected to weeks of abuse until you believe that all of your friends hate you and you actively want to kill yourself.

Hide some stuff in a secret chest? Your only shelter will be exploded, your pet/only food source will be killed, all your items will be destroyed, you’ll be banned from the Nether, and none of your friends will be allowed to come see you.

This is all such disproportionate retribution it’s ridiculous. It’s like punishing someone for speeding by blowing up their car with a ballistic missile.

So to sum up: Dream’s rules are arbitrarily enforced, and he can just straight up make them up on the spot if he feels like it. Sometimes, he won’t tell you a rule exists until you’ve already broken it, and you’re treated as if you broke it out of malice instead of genuine ignorance. And if you do break a rule, and he decides you have to be punished, it will always be a punishment so harsh it doesn’t even ATTEMPT to fit the crime.

I don’t know about you, but that sounds pretty fucking corrupt and tyrannical to me.

When people say Tommy deserved exile, or made Dream spiral into villainy, or abused Dream somehow (seriously I’ve seen this take multiple times and every time it makes my brain melt) by breaking the rules, I would invite them to take a step back and ask themselves, why did that rule exist? Did Tommy know it existed? Was it enforced for everyone other than him as well? Does the punishment fit the crime?

Dream has a bad habit of making up rules, or enforcing old ones that were never enforced before, to punish those who threaten his power. None of the Dream Team were ever punished for anything, despite committing the same crimes as the L’Manburgians. That is, until they founded Mexican L’Manburg (i.e. went against Dream’s rule), at which point they were attacked by Dream and George was dethroned for “not being neutral enough.”

Tommy should’ve faced consequences for what he did. But those consequences should’ve come naturally, and been carried out by the people he hurt. Like, if Dream hadn’t intervened, griefing George’s house would’ve resulted in George griefing Tommy back in revenge. In fact, he DID do that, by turning Tommy’s entire house into granite and putting the Jump In The Cadillac picture on his front lawn.

These are natural, proportionate consequences. Exile was none of that. The Disc War was none of that. Everything that happened to L’Manburg was none of that.

Dream’s rules and how he enforces them are inherently corrupt and tyrannical. To pretend it’s anything but is disingenuous at best.

#dream smp #dsmp #dsmp analysis #c!dream #c!tommy #tommyinnit #dreamwastaken #i had a COMPLETELY different point that i wanted to make but then i thought about it and went w a i t #uhhh if you wanna hear my original point lemme know i guess #anyway c!dream is such an interesting character! i hate him!#little green bastard man #c!dream critical

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duckprintspress · 4 years ago

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How can I write quickly?

I (hi, I’m @unforth) have been asked frequently over the years how I write a lot quickly. I’m a pretty fast writer - for example, I wrote the 5600 words of my May Trope Mayhem fill from yesterday in under 2.5 hours.

First, a little of my personal history for context. I’ve always written, starting from when I was able to string letters into (very poorly spelled) words and (horrible un-grammatical) sentences. When I started trying my hand at serious, professional-level fiction writing, I joined a community called novel_in_90, which was founded by the author Elizabeth Bear. The purpose of novel_in_90 was “to be NaNoWriMo but more realistic.” Instead of 50,000 words in 31 days, it was 67,500 words in 90 days, or 750 words a day. I participated in multiple rounds of novel_in_90 starting in mid-2005, and in 2007 I completed my first (godawful) novel. When I started, even writing a couple hundred words of day took me forever, but it got easier with time.

During those same years, I also got a job that required I do professional writing on a deadline: I was a grant writer, and I only got paid when the grants won. That often meant working fast under high pressure, culminating in the weekend I wrote and edited an entire 40 pages grant that was due on Monday. I think, if I hadn’t had a solid foundation of “regular daily plodding writing,” I’d not have been able to marathon when the moment came...and it came because I had to, not because I wanted to. However, I learned a valuable lesson: I could. Subsequently, I found that, when I had the time and space and was rested enough to use my brain, I could bust out a huge amount. Like, I wrote an entire 150,000 word novel in 17 days.

My personal record is about 200,000 words in one month (it was the month I wrote that novel; I wasn’t tracking when I did that so I don’t know exactly), 25,000 words in a day, and I’ve topped out around 3,000 words an hour. I do know people who can do more...but not many.

Not everyone will be able to do this. Flat out, I MUST preface the rest of this post by saying that. Some people will find that writing fast fits their brain, and for others, it just won’t, and that’s okay. Fast doesn’t equal better, and it isn’t inherently “good” to write fast. Furthermore, even for those who can write fast, not everyone will find the same strategies helpful. I can share what works for me. Try out one item, some items, or all of these - if writing faster is something you want to be able to do, which it certainly never has to be. Use what works for you, and discard the rest.

Sit in your chair, put your fingers on your keyboard or touch screen, and write. You can’t write 1,000 words in half an hour until you write one word, however long that one word takes. I know saying this is obvious, but I’ve been asked “how can I write fast” by people who struggle to write at all...fast can’t be your priority until you’ve got a foundation of just writing. (Honestly...fast should never be your priority, but it might be helpful to you regardless, which can make it worth learning.)

Start small. Set an achievable goal, and make yourself meet that goal (daily, weekly, whatever) come hell or high water, no matter how long it takes you. Keep the goal small at first; you’re not trying to torture yourself, you’re trying to build a skill. If you set the goal high enough that you consistently fail, you’re not teaching yourself anything. And, if you find the goal IS too high...lower it. There’s no shame in working within your limits. Think of it like starting a new work out regimen: you wouldn’t try to run a 10k at a record time if you can’t run a mile slow. Treat your fingers and your brain the same way you’d treat your legs and joints. Give them time to grow, learn, and improve before you try to push yourself.

Trying to write daily is worthwhile if you want to work on your writing speed, because you’ll be forced to try to fit it in as you’re able - that might be ten minutes in your morning, or an hour in your evening, and it might vary from day to day, but making it daily means you have to fit it in somewhere.

Building skills takes time and isn’t easy. For some people, it will come easier than for others, and even when you’re fast, going from “I can write words fast” to “I can write damn good words fast” takes practice and dedication and accepting constructive criticism - speed alone will never be worth more than writing well.

Having a community can help. Ya’ll will check in on each other, cheer each other on, remind each other that missing a day or a goal isn’t the end of the world, and keep each other’s spirits up. If you don’t know other writerly folks online, I recommend Weekend Writing Marathon ( @weekendwritingmarathon ) as a good place to start (I used to be a mod there). Once you’re trying to work up to larger word counts in a day, remember that even writing fast will take minutes or hours. You can’t write 2,500 words in an hour if you don’t set an hour aside. Make sure you’re giving yourself the room and time you need to succeed.

You will probably never be able to do high, rapid word counts every day, every week, every month. The best runners in the world don’t run marathons every day. Set realistic long term goals.

Work on projects where you have a clear idea of where you’re going. I’m not saying “pantsers” can’t write fast, because of course they can, but if you want to write fast, and well, and coherently, to create a first draft that’s in pretty good shape, you’ll do better if you have a good sense of what you’re trying to accomplish with your story. That doesn’t mean you need to do all your world building up front, or have a complete outline (I never have either). All you really need is what happens next. I tend to plan projects - and write them - one full scene at a time, with only a vague idea what’s going to come after. (I’m personally a “plantser,” and the strategies in this post will likely be most effective to other plantsers.)

Visualize ahead of time what you’d like to write...but don’t get too attached to what you visualize. When I go to bed, I plan the next scene I’m going to compose, often to the least detail. I then forget all of it overnight, at least all the specifics, and I’m left with a general sense and shape of what’s to come. You’ll never be able to replicate the “perfect” dialog you pre-conceive, so give up on trying to. Instead, play through the scene and think about the emotional beats you want to hit and plot points you want to forward. If you keep that in mind, you’ll be able to get the words out faster than if you’re agonizing over every word or regretting the “oh-so-great” idea that you’ve since forgotten.

Practice different work styles. If writing every day doesn’t work for you, try instead saying, “this is my writing day each week,” and aim for a lot that specific day, and write little or nothing other days. Try writing at different times of day and on different days, fitting it into your schedule. If you’re beating yourself up for not writing when you “should,” it’ll be that much harder to succeed, so instead, as I said for point 2 - set a reasonable goal that fits your life and working style, fitting it around your other responsibilities, and push yourself within that framework, instead of trying to shoehorn into a style that you “think you should” use to succeed.

Track your word counts, and take notes on how much you did and what project you were working on. If you’re also experimenting with different times of day and different days, make sure you note that too. I personally use a simple Excel sheet (well, Google Sheets, now) - column one is the date, column 2 is “starting word count,” column 3 is “ending word count,” column 4 is “=column 3 - column 2”, column 5 is notes. Pay attention to when you succeed at writing faster, and when you don’t, and consider what factors might have played into your success...and then try to replicate those factors next time you’re doing a sprint. Control as many variables as you can while you’re “training.”

If you find social media distracting, trying getting a web browser extension that prevents you from connecting to websites for a set period of time.

If you find you tend to dither before starting, I find it helpful to run through everything that I might do to procrastinate (check my social media! grab a snack! make some tea! set up my playlist! check my social media again! finish making the tea! check my social media for what I swear will be the last time!), and when I’m done, it’s like, well, I’ve done all those things, I’ve got no choice left, time to write, no excuses left.

If you find you struggle with picking up a WIP, try leaving off in the middle of a sentence at the end of a session, one where you know exactly how it ends - or, leave off mid-paragraph, or when you are positive you know what happens next (and I mean literally next, as in the very next sentence.) It’s much easier to “pick back up” when your first words are super clear. (Do not do this if you think there’s any chance you’ll forget or end up in a situation where you won’t return to your WIP for months!)

If you find you struggle to maintain continuity across multiple writing sessions, try rereading what you wrote the previous day before you proceed. Resist the urge to edit it!

Avoid stopping when you get stuck, even to do research. Don’t know a fact? Add a comment to your manuscript flagging the relevant text, “LOOK THIS UP LATER.” Can’t think of a word? Put in something you can use the “find” function on easily (I personally use “XX” since there are no words that have a double x in them) and so you can come back later, search for your chosen placeholder, and fill in the blanks. Not sure how a scene ends but know the next scene? Jump ahead.

That said, if you really don’t know what happens next, you don’t do yourself any favors by pressing on. As I’ve said previously, speed alone should never be your writing object. It’s better to slow down, consider your plot, figure out where you’re going, and then write, than to just plow ahead - or at least, that’s better if you want a manuscript you’ll actually be able to use for something at a later point. If you’re truly just practicing, you can also say “screw it, who needs coherence?” and keep going. I’d personally never have finished my first novel if I’d spent a lot of time worrying about making the pieces fit together and yeah, it’s a mess, but it’s a mess I wrote instead of a mess I got stuck on and never completed.

Don’t move the finish line. If you’ve set the goal of 500 words a day, don’t beat yourself up if you get 550 because you think you think you could have done more. If you say you’ll write five days a week, don’t get mad because you DID have time the sixth day but chose to use it on something else. If you make yourself feel like shit when you succeed, what’ll happen when you fail? And when you’re comfortable and really think you’re ready, change the goal - reassess every month, say, and up your goals. While working for speed, trying upping your word count goal without changing the amount of time you allot for working.

Your need to adhere to the above suggestions will change over time. Once, I always had an outline; now I often don’t need one. Once, I wouldn’t let myself stop even to use a thesaurus; now, I find I can look up words without breaking my flow or significantly slowing myself down. This is not an “all or nothing” prospect, nor is it a “do things the same way forever once you’ve found one (1) thing that works” prospect - you’ll experiment, and find strategies that work for you, and then at some point, your needs will change, and you’ll experiment more, and find new strategies that work for you, on and on, as your skills grow.

To reiterate: writing fast should never be your objective in and of itself! Greater writing speed will come with practice and as a general side effect of improving your craft. Simply being able to write fast is useless; being able to write fast and well will enable you to get more of your ideas out there, so if that’s something you’d like to accomplish, focus on building your general skills and training yourself to be able to use those skills rapidly and in tandem with each other to produce decent writing, in a first draft, at a decent speed.

Once you try, you may find none of this works for you! That’s okay. That’s good! You tried, which means you learned something about yourself and your own writing style, and that too will help you to improve. Keep experimenting, keep learning, and find what does work for you - and accept that no two writers will ever be the same, and one of those differences will be writing speed. Some writers will never write fast, and that’s doesn’t make them any less awesome or valid. And some writers will always write fast, and that doesn’t make them inherently awesome or valid. Only with a suite of skills that suit your individual life, personality, work style, writing capabilities, goals, etc., will you succeed as a writer (for various, personalized definitions of the word “success”); speed is only one of those potential skills, and not one that’s particularly important in my opinion...yet I still get asked about it fairly often, so here we are, these are my suggestions

Go forth, and write some words! <3

#duck prints press #writing advice #original content

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yokohamabeans · 2 years ago

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It’s been a minute, guys! I can’t even begin to describe how immensely sorry I am for posting the fic-writing ask game and taking THIS LONG to answer them... The cheek of me, an absolute clown!!

Huge, big thank you to my lovely moots (@obsidieneyes , @shions-chin-scar , @highviews , @penrose-quinn) and the anon who sent in the asks!! As I’ll be answering every single question on the list, I thought I’d just consolidate all of the asks in this post. Here goes!

1. Do you daydream a lot before you write, or go for it as soon as the ideas strike?

The former! Usually I get an idea, then daydream about it to flesh it out a lot before actually writing it down, so I can put out a whole scene and have a smoother flow. Actually, even writing the lines themselves take a lot of daydreaming; I often have to rethink, write, reread and rewrite everything I have typed out... It’s way too time-consuming tbh...

If you’re asking about specific ideas / scenes, I usually read or watch a bunch of related media (e.g. for ROAC, it’s a ton of crime shows and documentaries) and try to get inspired by them!

2. Where do you get your fic ideas?

Kinda cliched, but everywhere, I think. Sometimes I’ll see something on the street and try to ‘put into words’ what I’m feeling about it, then see if I can channel that into writing. This is mostly cuz I think characters are also humans with a myriad of fleeting thoughts, so if I can just highlight some random thought they have in my fic, I think it may flesh them out a lot more.

3. Do you share your fic ideas, or do you keep them to yourself?

I keep them to myself (excluding the drafts and snippets I post here). I kinda lead a double life, noone in IRL knows I write fanfic hahaha

4. How do you choose which fics to write?

Tbh, it’s all about which stan I’m obsessed enough to write about first, then all about how much ‘potential’ the story ideas I have for a full-fledged work! (i.e. can the plot go anywhere, do I have enough themes and motifs to sustain the whole fic etc.)

6. What’s the last line you wrote?

"Lighten up, will you?" drawls Ran from the seat beside. His smile is bright in contrast to the brewing storm. "It's sacrilege to walk into a hostess club with a glum face."

"We're walking into business," Kakuchō retorts, narrowing his eyes at the glass of whiskey in Ran's hand. "You can be a little less relaxed about this."

5. How many wips do you have? What fandoms/pairings are they for?

I guess 2? They’re ROAC (TokRev, Kakucho/OC) and Liar, Liar (KnB, AkashiOCKise), though I don’t think Liar, Liar has been in ‘progress’ as of late.... It’s taking a long hiatus but I swear I have plans to finish it!

7. Post a snippet from a wip.

Well, that much you must agree with Mama. Utsu and Yū and the women of Murasaki aren’t supposed to exist in the real world. But with the lion’s share of your salary going to her and the Mara-kai, you needed a second job, and a girl clutching only a high-school diploma didn’t have many options. Service jobs like store-keeping or waitressing were out of the question—you will never have the strength to deal with human beings all day and all night.

8. Post an out-of-context spoiler from a wip.

You roll your eyes at Pierre. This old fogey must be out of his depth if he thinks he's worth that much. Still, you agree just so you can hang up quickly. The bartenders at Murasaki will know how to swap it with something cheap.

9. Does this word [chosen by asker] appear in your current wip?

Hmmm, there wasn’t a specific word chosen so Imma skip this question, I think I’ve posted enough snippets for now! 🤪

10. Do you work on multiple wips or stick to one fic at a time?

Stick to one.... I used to be able to write two fics at the same time, but because I hyperfixate, my attention usually goes entirely into a single story/character at a time.

11. Do you write scenes in order, or do you jump around?

I write them in order always, so I can keep the flow and make sure I don’t repeat words/phrases! Sometimes, I get the inspiration for a future scene and just pen it out somewhere for release and future use, though!

12. Do you outline your fics? If yes, how detailed are your outlines? How far do you stray from them?

Oh yes! Pretty detailed, in my opinion, for scenes I have very clear ideas about (e.g. bullet point story boards). I usually stray from them when actually writing them though, but I still keep the essence nonetheless.

13. Do you listen to music while you write? If yes, what have you been listening to recently?

No, I’m the kind of person who needs total silence to work / study / write...

14. What is your favorite location and position to write in?

I wouldn’t call it favourite, but more of ‘I have no choice to’: It’s on the train during my commute hahaha

15. What’s your favorite time to write?

Whenever I am free these days.... (i.e. daily commute....) 🥹

16. Do you write by hand, on your phone, or on your laptop?

Mostly on my phone (via GDocs) these days!

17. Do you have a writing routine?

Not at all, but I suppose writing while commuting is kind of a routine since it happens at a fixed time almost every day?

18. Do you enjoy research? Which fic of yours required the most research?

YES!!! Well, I’m pretty much only writing ROAC but yes it required A LOT of research for the yakuza / hostess / Japan underworld setting! I also researched tons about the Japanese mythology/folklore, Buddhism and Journey to the West so I can weave metaphors / allusions into my writing. Well, needless to say, I also look through the TokRev Manga and its related official media so I can get the timelines / characters right too.

19. Do you enjoy creating OCs or do you prefer to stick solely to canon characters?

Let’s put it this way..... all but one of my fics are OC fics 🥸

20. Do you prefer writing AUs or canon fics?

Both actually, but because I write OC fics, they are kinda AU? But I always make sure I follow canon as much as possible!

21. Do you prefer writing chaptered fics or one-shots?

Chaptered fics! In case you can’t tell, I’m long-winded af... I got lots to say.... 🧑‍🦳

22. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

All three! Sometimes, I get inspired or really like a quote and decide to make it the title (aka titling before writing), or I write the story/chapter and base the title off it (aka titling during/after writing).

23. Is writing the beginning, middle, or end of the story easiest? Hardest?

For me, the beginning is the easiest because I’m fresh with lots of solid ideas. Hardest will be the middle, cuz I usually already have an ending in mind. It’s just how to get there!

24. How do you choose whose POV to write in?

Tbh, it’s more like whatever I feel like hahaha. I used to write in 3rd POV cuz that’s what I’m most comfortable with, but recently the 2nd POV is fun too!

25. What’s your favorite part of the writing process (worldbuilding, brainstorming/outlining, writing, editing, etc)?

Hands down: brainstorming/outlining. Editing comes a close second cuz that usually means I already have things down and done.

26. What’s your least favorite part of the writing process?

Writing is the most torturous. But also the most fulfilling, I guess!

27. What area of writing do you feel strongest in?

I actually feel really confident about dialogue. It’s the easiest and most fun, IMO, cuz it’s easy to put into words what people will say off the top of their head. Dialogue can also reveal a lot of a character too.

28. What area of writing do you want to improve in?

Exposition. Especially because ROAC has a lot of worldbuilding, I struggle really hard to explain the settings / things cuz I don’t wanna make it dull and flat, and yet using too many metaphors will make it unnecessarily flowery. I really wanna be able to explain things in an engaging way!!

29. What’s something about your writing that you’re proud of?

Hmmm.... Characterization I suppose!

30. How much do you edit your fics? Do you edit as you write or wait until you finish the first draft?

I edit them as soon as I write. Every single line is a product of overthinking... Which is why I’m so slow....

31. Do you use a beta reader/editor?

Nope! I personally like to be ‘responsible’ for my own fics, so it’s all me babeh!!

32. Do you take fic requests? Why or why not?

I’m sorry to say that I don’t... I’m struggling to write my own fics as it is....

33. Is there a specific word count that you hold yourself to/enjoy writing the most?

In the past I keep it at about 3~4k per chapter. Nowadays (for ROAC) it’s about 4~5k per chapter, though I think I’ve been exceeding it hehe.

34. How much of your personal life/experience do you include in your fics?

Not a lot, but I suppose I sometimes weave in my own thoughts / perspectives!

35. What’s your favorite fic you’ve posted?

Within my very limited number of fics.... ROAC? I think the prose for it is the best I’ve written so far (though the bar wasn’t that high to start with hahahahaha).

I recently re-read (the re-written) Liar, Liar, and have to say I also really like my prose in that too!

36. What fic are you proudest of?

ROAC, again haha! Specifically, I’m really chuffed with how Chapters 1 and 4 turned out.

37. What fic has been the hardest for you to write?

Incidentally, ROAC Chapter 5...... Half of it is Kakucho’s POV and about Bonten / Mara-kai gang things, which is hard for me to write about cuz I (fortunately) personally have no experience in crime, so I have to research a lot! It’s also really hard to write from the perspective of adult Bonten in some ways, cuz they’re likely quite different from their teen selves in the manga.

36. What is your most self-indulgent posted story?

Every single OC fic I post has been nothing but self-indulgence......

38. What’s your most self-indulgent wip?

Um, ROAC? (I’m sorry to repeat my answers.... ROAC is all I have 🥹)

39. What is your favorite world that you’ve created for a fic?

Long ago I took on a Tobirama fic set in Yoshiwara (or the Naruto world version of it) and I really loved the whole world built around it! The theme of Edo period Japan has always been something I loved. It’s not published (or written, really) though. Tbh, if I ever finish ROAC and Liar, Liar, I’d like to go back to it....

40. Who’s your favorite character you’ve written?

Kise was really fun to write in Liar, Liar. Ran too actually!

In terms of OCs, Yua and Mama are really interesting to write. Saeri (from Liar, Liar) was hilarious and breezy to write too ‘cuz the fic was really light-hearted and ‘slice of life’ish!

41. What’s your favorite title that you’ve come up with?

I’ve already taken it down, but Past Tense Events (my Rindou/Reader fic) was a really cool title I think! It was inspired by a poem I read somewhere, but I can’t remember which it is now...

42. Is there a trope or idea that you’d really like to write but haven’t yet?

I’m not someone with self-restraint, so I think I’ve pretty much gotten everything I wanted to write down in a doc draft/outline somewhere!

43. What is your favorite genre to write?

Romance cuz I’m a sap hahahaha! Well, the dark crime genre tone of ROAC is fun too so far!

44. What genre/trope do you tend to write the most?

Romance, or Rom-Com, based on my old fics.

45. If you could only write one type of AU for the rest of your life, what would it be?

Fantasy ancient/feudal Japan AUs!!! I love Japanese myths!!

46. Is there a trope that you’ve written before but are now sick of?

I think I drenched Liar, Liar in second-hand embarrassment a lot in the rom-com meet-cute way in my first iteration of it. It was really fun back then but thinking back, it was way too much hahaha

47. Who is your favorite character to write for? Has this changed since you’ve started writing for that fandom?

Hmm Kakucho, I think? I think it kinda changed in the sense that I got even deeper into his character than I intended to (for example, ROAC was meant to be a Reader/OC fic but I ended up going into the direction of a character study). The thing about Kakucho is that we get just enough information from the manga about him to form a definite idea of what he’s like, but not enough to dictate it, so we can exercise some imagination and creativity too. This is what I think, at least!

48. What fic of yours would you say is the best introduction to you as a writer?

I want to say ROAC but I think I’m a rom-com kind of writer by nature, so maybe Liar, Liar?

My favourite and proudest work is still ROAC though!

49. How would you describe your writing style?

THIS IS A REALLY HARD QUESTION!!!!

I genuinely have no idea. But when I write, I want my lines to ‘mean more than they let on’? I like to use metaphors and similes, and when writing in the POV of characters (especially Yua) I hope to have some edge to it too. I’m sorry y’all, I have no idea how to describe my writing style...

50. Does what you like to write differ from what you like to read?

Not at all hahaha my interests in reading and writing are aligned! When I write, I like to look for inspiration too so I often read works in the same genre for it!

51. What’s the average word count of your fics?

Based on my 2 works on AO3, it’s about ~4.5k per chapter!

52. What is the most-used tag on your ao3?

“Original Characters” and “Slow Burn”

...pretty accruate picture of my fics, tbh!

53. What’s the fandom/pairing distribution of your posted fics?

...............They’re all Canon/OC fics.................

54. Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

I like this question! I think I often write the theme of ‘fate’ and ‘destiny’. The idea of fated lovers / soulmates is so cliched but romantic to me.... Recently, I notice I use a lot of ‘conversation filler’ words or phrases in ROAC, like ‘well, xxxx’ or ‘come to think of it’ or stuff like that. I think I’ve been influenced by Japanese writers cuz I noticed they like include those in their narratives too (or at least, the English translations of them).

55. Are there any fics that you would change or rewrite if given the chance?

I already rewrote Liar, Liar, which was something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.

If I ever have the time or energy, I wanna rewrite Past Tense Events!

56. How conscious are you about including symbolism or foreshadowing in your fics?

VERY CONSCIOUS!!!!!! And I’m over the moon whenever my incredibly perceptive and clever friend, Obsidian (@obsidianmooneyes) picks up on them hehehe

57. Do you have a favorite piece of figurative language you’ve written?

Tbh I’m not too sure what this question means, but I guess I’ll just post a piece of my writing that I like and has figurative language!

You remember his eyes when you held his face—wide and strained for what you might do next. (Even you were in fear of what you might’ve done.) They swallowed you in like gravity, consumed you whole and made you wonder: what if, in that instance, you were to let yourself fall? To crash on his lips like an asteroid upon Earth, and obliterate the world around you? Would it be so disastrous?

58. Have you participated in any fic events/writing challenges? If yes, what were they and did you enjoy them?

No, unfortunately.... 100% because of my lack of time, and also I can never meet a writing deadline....

59. In ROAC, what inspired the idea for the plot?

It’s all in the title, my friend! The OG folklore, Requital of a Crane! (Tsuru no Ongaeshi)

60. In ROAC, what’s your favorite scene that you wrote?

Hmmmm.... The favourite scene I think is still in the works and not published yet, but among what’s already out, I think it is the mahjong scene in Chapter 4!

61. In ROAC, is there a deleted scene/idea you wish you could have included? Why did it get cut?

YES! In the yet-to-be-published Chapter 5, I have an entire scene of Yua interacting with Mitsuya. (Yua buys her dresses for the club from him, and is also a deliverywoman for his supplies and materials, so they have a friendly client type of relationship.) I wrote the whole scene out but deleted it because it was taking too much space and time away from the real plot... Though, thinking back, maybe I should’ve included it simply becaue Mitsuya is really cool (lmao), and I think there was some characterization of Yua in it. (I may or may not include it in future chapters, or at least give it a mention, though!)

62. What was the hardest part of writing ROAC?

Getting into the perspective of criminal Bonten. The underworld is something very real and complex, so I don’t wanna write Bonten and Mara-kai as a ‘movie-ish’ kind criminal organization. Bonten’s mindset and way of thinking will thus be very mature, dark and different from mine, so I think it’s hard to get or write about them in a ‘realistic’ way, if you get what I mean.

63. If you rewrote ROAC now, would you change anything?

Hmmm... Not really tbh, I think I’m pretty satisfied with how things are going in it so far. Though of course, if I read it again in like 5 years I will probably have many things I wanna change about it.

I also have plans to write other spin-offs too, about Yua in other timelines!

64. If you wrote a sequel to ROAC, what would happen in it?

As it happens I DO want to write a sequel to ROAC. Especially with the new happy ending in TR! The sequel will probably be something short about Yua and Kakucho / Ran / Tenjiku’s relationship in that timeline.

65. What’s a fun fact about ROAC?

In my early drafts, Yua’s supposed to have a younger sister that she revolves her whole life around. She was supposed to be in debt just to take care of her after their parents died. Then I decided to scrap it because it’s kinda cliched, and I wanted Yua to be more ‘alone’ and relate more to Kakucho haha. I don’t regret this decision though!

66. If a fic was titled [insert made up title], what would this story be about/how would you write it?

No particular requests for this question, so Imma skip this!

67. Are there any fics that influenced you to write the way you do?

OH many...... Abalone on the Shore by unolvrs and WHITE NOISE by 1keshi got me into writing in 2nd POV. Blackkat (on AO3)’s prose is also an absolute inspiration!

68. What are your favorite fics at the moment?

GREEN LIGHT by PENROSE-QUINN!!!

INTOXICATING BEAUTY by OBSIDIANMOONSTONES!!!

KILL THE DIRECTOR SERIES by HIGHVIEWS!!!

All super gorgeous writing!! Anyone who’s been on my blog knows how much I love them! Obsidian tears your heart out but Kadie (highviews) will salve it with her adorable rom-com romps. Then, you lull yourself to sleep with the familiar comfort of Pen’s fic!!

69. Are you subscribed to any writers on AO3?

Hell yeah!! I don’t know if I clicked the ‘subscribe’ button but I defintiely check the profiles of the writers I’ve mentioned in this post a lot! (unolvrs, 1keshi, penrose_quinn, ObsidianMoonstones, highviews, phen0l/maokitty, blackkat)

(I’ve also been creepily lurking around phen0l‘s writing..... exquisite.... especially this Dabi fic: Higher than the Mountains, Deeper than the Sea TRULY PHENOMENAL)

Special mention goes to razbliuto for her cleverly, unique writing in the One Piece fandom!! Sophie (from Methyl Nitrate Pineapples) is absolutely ICONIC as an OC!!!

70. Do you spend more time reading or writing?

Tbh, discounting articles I have to read for work/school, I have to say writing... and even so it is minimal.... I haven’t really had the time to read recently....!!

71. What’s your favorite writing compliment you’ve gotten?

Every compliment I get is my fave, I’m serious!!! But special mention goes out to Obsidian’s super detailed analysis of ROAC on AO3..... To have your work so thoroughly understood by another is an indescribable feeling.....

72. What do you tend to get complimented on the most about your writing?

Based on the comments so far, I would say the intricacy or details in my fic! Which I’m eternally grateful for because I have to say I worked hard on all the research!!!

73. Do you have a fic you wish got a bit more love?

Hmm.... Liar, Liar I suppose? (since it’s just the other one of my fics atm, and I really liked how it turned out) But it’s on hiatus so maybe not....

74. Is there a particular fic that readers gravitated towards that you didn’t expect?

I don’t consider it a fic, but the headcanon posts I’ve made about Tenjiku blew up quite a bit more than I was expecting!

75. How do you deal with writing pressure, whether internal or external?

Thankfully all of my moots and readers have been sublimely kind and understanding about how busy I am IRL, so I don’t get a lot of ‘external’ pressure! As for internal, I think I just try to chip at my works (but clearly to no progress so far)

76. Why do you enjoy writing fanfiction?

Two words: SELF INDULGENCE!!! Also because I get to imagine a totally ‘new’ perspective through my OC, and explore things and themes I don’t in real life!

77. What motivates you during the writing process?

Wanting to push my ideas out to the world I think! And I’ll come off as a sap for this, but comments from readers too haha!

78. Do you have any writing advice you want to share?

I still don’t think I’m the best person to give writing advice, but I think this holds true a lot: WRITE WHAT YOU WANT!! And most importantly, write for yourself. If you’re writing for ‘exposure’ or likes / views, it’ll be easy to get discouraged if you don’t get the reception you were hoping for (I’ve been down that path). But if you’re just writing whatever the hell you want, then you’re gonna be satisfied no matter what comes out most of the time, IMO!

80. Free space - asker can come up with any writing or fic-related question they want!

Hmmm no specific question for this either, but I’ll just drop a small tidbit about ROAC! There will be an entire chapter devoted to Ran’s POV, late in the fic hehe! (Tbh, I may even write a spin-off sequel set in a timeline where Kakucho didn’t survive and it’s just Ran and Yua)

NGL this took quite a bit out of me, but it also made me reflect and think about my writing a lot so I enjoyed every second of it!! Again, really sorry that it took my almost half a year to answer these....I wish you all nothing but the best for 2023!

#yokothinks #ask things #on writing #ROAC braindumps #I'm also sorry if I seem like I'm running out of steam in some questions.....

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oh-for-fic-sake · 5 years ago

Text

Dress Codes,Nooky And Cock Blocks

Masterlist

Henry tries to be a white knight and realizes Kal is to smart for his own good.

Request/Prompt: Henry and Kal meets you from work after having a bad day. Playing with Kal to make Henry jealous. Shutting kal out for some nooky but Kal sits outside the door barking and howling.

Warnings: Smutty Almost Smut! Fluff, Swearing

A/N: so this has combined two ideas one of which is from the lovely @being-worthy This was going to be a Pooh bear chapter two but hasn't quite fit the bill. Anyway I hope you all enjoy. P.S I 100% belive Kal would be a little shit!!!

Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters @thatgirly81 @angelofthorr @iloveyouyen @sofiebstar @thefangirlsblog @harrysthiccthighss @loserrlauraa @tumblrnewby @isitmine @tinabean37

This was a fucking piss take your manager was an asshole! You huffed about the office still trying to process the stupidity he just fucking spouted at you. You moved to the ladies room phone in hand ready to vent locking yourself in a stall fingers poised to rant in a long ass text message but you froze. Henry was home well at the gym to be more specific. He was over the moon having just snagged the role of Geralt of Rivia and had been working tirelessly on bulking up for the role especially now that he was getting the dates for shooting. You paused taking a deep breath. No. You cant vent to him and ruined his day to. You growled and moved leaving the bathroom slamming the door thankful that you only had another hour, at least the prick had the decency to wait until the end of the day.

You through your phone down into the bag sitting at your desk for a few moments. You cast your eyes over the computer screen seeing the little bimbo...His little bimbo Stacey there was an office romance between your asshat of a manager and this little blonde. She ran about the office in small tight skirts hair immaculate and thick makeup smeared across her face and fuck me glasses that were an accessory not prescription like yours. She had a snug fitted blouse and pencil skirt on flitting about the office in some dangerous looking heels. More feminine? Was you supposed to jump up and say 'yes sir of course Sir, anything to keep this job sir' then flutter your lashes at him?.

Fuck that, and fuck this be more feminine bullshit, there was no written dress code and as far as things had gone you were doing your job pretty damn well and you didn't need heels to do it!

You scowled seeing the blonde slip out followed by your manager it mus be time fore their discrete get away a make out in the copier room...How original. You sighed clicking your mouse scanning through the next lot of appointments...No more today but there was a shit tonne tomorrow. You sighed getting down...Was your job really on the line over skirts, makeup and heels? Sure you were on probation but they couldn't sack you for breaking a non existent dress code...Could they.honestly you wouldn't put it past Dave he seemed to have some fucked up traditional views.

Your attention was quickly drawn down to your phone buzzing you smiled seeing it was Henry quickly tapping the notification.

'Bbe you still at the office?? Miss you! 😘😘' You smiled softly heaving a deep breath then began typing.

'Yep still here not for long though finish in 1hr thank god 😘😘 u 2 at the gym still??' You sent the text and got a reply pretty quick you smiled he must have left the gym to reply so quick. Your thoughts wandered a daydream of the huge glorious man puffed out and sweaty ugh yes that's what you needed right now your man to just ruin you fuck the stress and doubt right out of you!. Your eyes scanned the new text he had sent pulljng you out of your raunchy thoughts.

'No just left walking Kal around the park he got a bit excited need to wear him out, so have a good day?'

'😂 good luck with that. And its been okay...G2g shopping after apparently I need to dress more feminine😒😒 so will be home late' You frowned hearing the two love birds enter the office again wrapped up around one another professionally you rolled your eyes as the blonde pulled away from your manager giggling and made her way to the computer opposite you instantly reaching for her compact mirror trying to correct the smeared lipstick across her face. Your phone pinged and you looked down face lighting up a little seeing the anger emojis. Henry felt the same ass you.

'😡😡🤬WTF? wats tht sppsd 2 mean?' you cringed maybe you should have just kept your mouth shut but it was too late now you sighed trying to placate him.

'I need to wear skirts and shit...be an office bimbo no big deal🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ just get a few skirts thts all' you typed back his reply was immediate almost as if he'd been typing the same time as you. Wincing you prepared yourself for the worse, Henry was a very protective man and you knew he hated the whole gender roles thing.

'😡😡You dnt need makeup and shit!! ur gorgeous dnt u listen to that wanker!! Can't u leave early?? Say ur going shopping?? Just get out of there! please love dnt let this get 2 u!!🥺🥺 I love u, ur perfect!!😍😘😘😍' You grinned got flushing rereading the words a warmth in your chest. You knew that he meant every word. Stacey looked over with a smirk snapping the compact shut and pointed a false nail in your direction.

"Oh? Is that a blush? Who are you texting? Someone cute?" You flicked your eyes up to her you didn't have anything against her per say but you were different people, she was all Instagram, kardashians and trending and you were all gaming, books and cosy pajamas. You never really spoke to her if you could help it.

"Err yeah...My boyfriend" you admitted looking down seeing another text from him. Another round of compliments and reassuring words lit up your screen.

'I mean it bbe I know u! dnt beat urself up over it! Dont u let him get 2 u!😘😘' you smiled softly yes he did know you and he knew this had not only made you angry but also insecure. You thought you looked good at work you always made a point to look 'put together' but it wasn't enough?

"Ooo was that him again? You never told me you had a boyfriend! Is he new? How long have you been together? What does he do? Whats he saying!?" You gulped as she got up quickly scuttling around the desk as fast as she could in her heels and skirt.

"We've been together a few years...He's just asking me to leave early and catch diner with him but I don't think Dave would like that..." Stacey's face lit up and she beamed at you. She was happy to have something else to gossip about.

"Oh! that’s so sweet~ he wants to steal you away for dinner! You know I wish Dave would do that but he only really pays attention to me at work....So does this sweet mystery man have a name?" You looked up at her tilting your phone away a little so she didn't see Henry's on going threats of 'coming down there and teaching Dave some manners by ripping his tongue out his ass' you shook your head as you caught the ass end of a long text full of emojis...You sort of regret teaching him the meanings of them....Was that an eggplant in the middle?.

"Henry...His name is Henry and he's an actor" Stacey squealed cupping her face completely excited for some reason.

"Oh that's so cute! You know its always you shy ones that nab yourselves the boho guys...You know I always wanted to date the 'boho' type myself but never did, they were all to....Just not my type I like clean cut guys, you know ones who fill out a suit" You squinted what the fuck was she getting at? You schooled your features standing taller quickly and made your own little dig.

"Like Dave?" she flushed and nodded excitedly missing the whole sarcastic droll over your words. She clapped her hands completely missing the fact you were poking fun at the scrawny 'stud' sleazeball who Henry could easily snap over his thigh if he wanted to.

"Yes just like my Dave~! Ugh anyway do you have a pic...Come ooon! Let me see your man~" you sighed tilting your head to her...She was pretty harmless...And dippy so it shouldn't do any harm she didn't strike you as the type of person to watch Henry's movies so shouldn't recognize him. You nodded sweetly it was actually a little fun you rarely got to show off your man, most people who knew him knew you were dating. You twisted the phone eying the screen and froze seeing the last texts he sent you whilst you spoke to Stacey.

'Have you got out early??🧐🧐'

'Babe don't ignore me!😤😤 Is he still there!?😡'

'Woman you better answer me! Stop ignoring me bbe it wont help😤😤'

'Im serious y/n do I need to chat with him? Do you want me to help?🧐🧐'

'Look out the window'

"Oh hell no!" you huffed out under your breath then stood up scrabbling to the large office window Stacey followed you alarmed. You freaked and quickly opened the window poking your head out to scream at your sweet but very dappy boyfriend. As irritated as the texts were he didn't look it, well until you really looked he was tense and it wasn't just because Kal was puling excitedly.

"Oh my god?! HENRY?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!....GET OUT OF THE GOD DAMNED ROAD!!" lone behold when you looked down you saw Henry standing there with a huge bouquet of Roses and a bag you suspected held a box of chocolates, Kal was barking up at you spinning in circles and jumping up super excited almost dragging the huge man over in all the excitement. It would seem the walk was not enough to wear out the bear. Henry grinned up at you you heard Stacey from beside you gasp.

"Holy shit is that your boyfriend??" you turned to her and smiled smugly to her nodding then glanced back down to him seeing him quickly navigate the people bustling around the car park heading for the doors. You froze. You can't let him up here he sounded angry earlier...He'd kill Dave. You ran back to your desk quickly logging off the pc and snatching up your bag.

"Where do you think your going y/n?" Dave called after you you stopped seeing him there arms crossed giving you the filthiest look he could muster seeing your bag slung over your arm then there was the distinct buzzing of someone Henry at the door trying to be buzzed in. You pointed to the door opening our mouth to fake sickness or something but was interrupted.

"Oh Dave leave her alone...All the times she's here early let her go early for once, we don't need her anymore today and it means we get the office to ourselves for an hour~" your eyes bugged out as Stacey came to your aid fluttering her lashes to your manager. He heaved a sigh and nodded to the door in a 'get out of here' motion.

You smiled quickly darting out down the stairs to the ground floor seeing Henry standing there unimpressed finger holding the button down in one long irritating ring. You shook your head at him through the glass as he held the button.

You slapped the exit button opening the door and Henry tried darting past you into the building chest puffed shoulders ready to give your boss a piece of his mind but you caught the frightening man by his ridiculous bulging bicep. You spun with him digging your heels into the worn carpet.

"No no no! Henry no!" he carried on to the stairs dragging you with him passing you the roses and Kal's lead as the dog bounced around you both yipping like the over excited pup he was. Henry had hoped filling your hands would give him time to jump up a few steps out of your reach so he could have a chat with Dave about this whole misogynistic bullshit. Henry swore when you scampered behind him hooking your arms around his forearm and leant back, if he moved you'd drop like a rock and up the few steps as you both were, you'd hurt yourself. He stopped heaving a deep sigh looking to you.

"Just five minuet's babe is all I need! fucking feminine my ass he just wants to oogle your peach of an ass!! And that's not- that ass is mine!! fucking no one NO ONE fucking upsets my baby!" Your body flushed skin prickling at the shear alpha tone the possessive growl that seeped into his words made you tremble swallowing dryly you managed to shake it off and focused on the task at hand fucking could come later for now you needed to stop him from ripping your manager a new one. You moved crouching down bearing your weight down giggling at him as he still tried to thunder up the stairs. Kal helped to pulling at his lead it was a joint effort.

"Henn love?! I'll be sacked if you go up there and make Dave piss himself! Please lets just go home it's Friday I can find a few things over the week end for now can we please leave" he stopped and looked up to the brown ceiling and flickering light sigh he clicked his tongue then looked to you slowly with a heavy breath.

"....Fine, but next time I'm having him!" you smiled finding his protective side arousing your tummy clenching just knowing you big strong man could rinse the little twat upstairs made your pussy clench you always had a thing about strong men and Henry was the most physically fit you'd ever met. You somehow managed to coax him out of the door in the direction of home taking a detour picking up a Chinese on the way.

You giggled rolling around the floor with Kal. after a quiet dinner and snuggle with Henry you had been ushered away so he could do his nightly reading of his new script.You didn't mind at all you loved seeing him so invested in his roles. you caught a glimpse of the red roses sitting proudly in a glass vase on the fireplace almost blocking the view of the tv but not quite. You loved this, just being home with your favorite boys enjoy a nice quiet night in. you scoffed mocking kal who was pulling hard on the black rope trying to out witt you with quick flicks of his head, playing tug with Kal was a workout huge as he was he had the weight and strength to out match even Henry. You did not stand a chance just holding onto the black rope hoping to slow him down but he was full of energy today.

Henry was sitting on the sofa feet up reading his witcher script pen in hand as he read his page, one a night was the deal. But honestly trying to pull him away from this particular script was a hell of a job fair enough he was trying to memorize lines and scribble down alternatives in the margins. It was sweet how excited he got, he already knew the character in and out so could already tweak things around so it felt like Geralt. He was happy had been chasing the role for a while so you didn't mind that preparing for it was taking up most of his time. but you were still horny from earlier and wouldn't complain to a night of nooky. But alas Henry was drawn in by the script and you were trying to find other ways to distract yourself from the bubbling arousal in your loins, like playing with Kal. But that’s not to say you wasn't going to tease your man, there were ways to get his attention~

You smirked putting a plan into action bending lower wriggling your ass, craning back so your shorts rode up just that little bit more. Then once in place you squealed loud gaining the mans attention as Kal tugged dragging you across the floor growling playfully bouncing his weight back jerking you around, it was only then that Henry grunted in annoyance, your voice had been high he loved you keeping Kal entertained he really did, but sometimes he needed a little quiet. Especially when he was trying to concentrate.

"You know if I keep this up I'll have bigger muscles then you~" you giggled out a you tried to hold your own against the mighty bear. Henry smiled and watched shaking his head as Kal dragged you under his legs to the free space on the side of the coffee table. As much as he was trying to concentrate you could never get on his nerves for long, he just loved you to damn much. Henry frowned as you were pulled again wincing anticipating an accident as Kal was definitely getting to invested in the game.

"Or a dislocated shoulder" he commented as Kal did another particularly painful looking shunt and shook his head side to side still growling loud around the toy. It was then that he looked at you properly and what he saw made the man pause and suck in a breath air getting trapped in his throat at the innocently erotic sight. Seeing you bent over any time was a pleasure but here and now? Bouncing deliciously on your knees being half dragged about the living room added another dimension to the whole thing. Your arms and back stretched out low on the floor spine arched slightly, sitting with your knees tucked under you, the bouncing making your ass jump deliciously.

Two full ass cheeks peeking out of you short shorts as Kal carried on his jerky movements. You bit your lip grunting and tugged back pulling with all your might successfully gaining a few inches which Kal stole back and more making you yelp and moan as you were sprawled out on the carpet again. This time dragged up on your knees into a position he he spent many nights enjoying to his fullest. were you doing this on purpose? he wouldn't put it past you...Maybe you needed a fuck, a proper fuck.

Henry couldn't help the twitching in his groin, the first tremors as he got a front row seat to the two perfect globes of your ass seemingly clapping against one another with the shorts acting like a thong shucked up your ass. Fuck you wasn't wearing Knickers again. Little fucking minx. He lowered his feet to the floor now far to invested in watching you roll around in the tiny shorts. swept up in the way your body swayed taunting him. you turned to him with a sly smile and sent him a quick wink that he almost missed.

He gaped at you, you were doing it on purpose!! His script laid completely forgotten on his lap as he watched you turn back to Kal innocently dipping down low again shoulders to the floor stretched out taught in front of you face tucked into your arm as Kal fought you for the coveted rope. God...It had been a while since he fucked you like that. He licked his lips. Too long in the busy days since snagging the witcher role he had only had time for a two quickies. Two fumbled quickies in three weeks and they wasn't even that good. Well not his usual hour long foreplay teasing and touching then good few rounds. They were just a flurry of fast rutting motion's, less fucking more jerking trying to finish as quickly as you could just wanting that high. he bit his lip watching you watch him out of the corner of your eye definitely teasing him.

"Babe come here~" You froze and twisted your head back you knew that tone.Grinning knowing you'd got your way you looked seeing Henry eyeing you hungrily biting his lip tilting his head, legs spread wide making his thighs bulge in what should be a loose set of black shorts but actually became skin tight on this Goliath of a man. You flushed under the gaze but managed to hold into the rope not giving the still pulling pup an inch. His eyes were a dark ocean blue pupils nearly swallowing the color completely, you wondered how far you could push him. you pouted at him before teasing him further opening your legs wider letting the material of your shorts almost completely disappear.

"Henry...I'm playing with Kal-" he squinted at you then quirked a brow before shaking his head snapping shut the folder holding the script and let it drop to the floor by his foot with a decisive thump. You gulped. But didn't move instead you heaved back pulling the Akita across the floor.

"Babe...Come here Kal's had his playtime..." you rolled your eyes hearing the silent 'now I want mine' sometimes he was a man child. You twisted your head to him with a flutter of your lashes and cheeky grin.

"Well I'm playing with Kal you have to wait your turn-HEY? HENRY THAT’S CHEATING!?" You yelped as Henry quickly bolted up right and stomped on the rope whilst using his considerable size and strength to pull you up off the floor making you release the toy.

"Well that’s enough playing with Kal, time to play with me. I wont be cock blocked in my own house by the dog~" you giggled as Henry quickly began climbing the stairs laughing kicking your feet, watching as Kal stayed two steps behind rope in his mouth excitedly following his parents, you were all going to play!. It was only when the dog found himself shut out of the bedroom did he realize you were in fact not going to be playing with him anymore tonight. you could hear the indignant huff through the door.

You wriggled as Henry fell onto the bed with you wrapped around him slowly devouring each other with deep kisses tongues and teeth roaming each other. It had been a good few weeks since you both explored one another properly. Henry pulled away chuckling at the soft scratches at the door. Kal was not impressed.

"Kal go lie down! We will be finished soon" Henry called out and ignored the high whines and more insistent scratching at the door and leaned over you sucking at your neck decorating it as he saw fit leaving marks of red and purple biting his mark into the crook of your neck then lower tracing a warm wet train over your thin shirt. You moaned clutching his waist trapping him between your thighs using the grip you had to rock up onto him trying to ease the burning in your core.

"Oh whats this? Someone is impatient considering she wanted to keep playing with Kal?" His voice came out as a deep rasp making you gasp cupping his face.

"You treating me with your Geralt babe?" He smiled latching onto your ear rocking down onto you drawing out soft mewls. You vaguely heard Kals whines become louder barks out side the door hearing the dog jump up pawing at the handle of the door trying to break in.

"Oh you like?~" You sighed quickly trying to rid your tshirt panting feeling just how wet your slit had got, you were embarrassingly wet considering you hadn't even done anything yet.

"Fuck yes~ oh god its so-ah fuck its so hot Henry~" he pulled back growling in the new low tone you hadn't known he was capable of, his large hands helped remove the tshirt throwing it across the room and latched onto your tits biting and sucking slow flicking his tongue across a pebbled nipple as his hands stripped you of your shorts. he chuckled seeing the damp patch, your arousal sticking to the material in one neat line.

"Oh you really do need me don't you love~" you nodded to him whining when he pulled back grunting a growl biting your boob and sucking harshly. You both moved in tandem rolling around the sheets grinding ,rocking ,biting and grunting both intent on ignoring the pup crying outside the door. He would wear himself out and get bored. Well that was the plan anyway.

Henry finally pinned you and descended on your core like a starving man given the sweetest fruit. You cried out fingers in his hair unsure what spurred on this heated frenzie but would happily indulge him. One thing you loved about him is he was always up for eating you out, the man thrived on it! He seemed to get a massive kick out of feasting on you until you came all over him. You grunted as he suckled on your bud teasing and twisting his supple lips across it Nipping you began to loose yourself panting and jerking up into his mouth chasing a sweet release you hadn't known you needed and then you heard it.

A deep loud echoing mournful howl. Even Henry stopped frowning up at you from between your legs. That was new, Kal wasn't a howly dog, he barked and yipped giving off the weirdest groans and moans. But never howled. You both burst out laughing unable to stop it as the howls were all over the place, loud and quiet raspy and uneven like Kal was an apprentice learning on the job.they were less 'howls' and more 'how-wo-wow-wo-wow' It was clear this was his first time but bless him he was trying to be the wolf of the house. You panicked as he began to get the hang of it and patted Henry's shoulder. he was still chuckling finding Kals new found voice hilarious.

"Quick stop him! If he learns that we'll never hear the end of it!" You chuckled pulling the thin sheet over you as Henry swore and quickly slinked off the bed racing to the door opening it stopping Kal in his tracks. The Akita smiled panted a few breaths thumped his tail on the floor then collected his rope entering, jumping on the bed without a care in the world.

"Babe?" You asked biting the inside of your cheek trying to stop the giggles as Henry began to scowl at the fluffy bear sprawling out on his side of the bed a flush building up his chest settling over his face. He cleared his throat.

You and Henry watched as Kal moved dropping the rope by your hand waiting for you to continue your game of tug. You flopped back in peels of laughter at Henry's face. The man looked amused and livid at the same time as realization struck. Kal, lovable cute baby boi Kal had just played Henry like a fiddle. You didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the fact your boyfriend, your chosen mate had just been outsmarted by a dog.

"Yes love?" He said none to happy with how things had turned out, here he was standing at the foot of his bed painful hard on and there you were naked and willing...In his bed...With Kal. This was not the plan.

"I hate to break it to you...But you've just been cock blocked in your own house by your dog....For a game of tug!" You giggled as you threw Henry's previous words back at him petting Kal who was still fiddling with the rope trying to make you grab it.

"No shit...Can we still fuck? I mean he can have my side! I'm gonna be on top of you anyway?" You gaped at him as he rounded the bed fulling intent on rolling on top of you sliding home. You held up your hand to him.

"Nope! No way am I fucking you next to Kal!" Henry ignored you crouching over you trying to lay you back down to finish what he started before being rudely interrupted by the Akita now in bed with his girlfriend.

"Oh babe why not? this is painful, look I'm going purple...Besides you started it its your responsibility~" he whined trying to bat away your pushing hands leaning in to capture you with a burning kiss. You dodged anticipating his next move, his kisses were always a sure fire way to make you completely melt and give in to him. you quickly twisted away throwing your legs over the side of the bed placing your hands either side of his naked hips, pressing him back as he still tried to gain on you. you swallowed looking up at him meeting his lopsided grin, trying to ignore the proud cock swaying in front of you almost tapping your heaving breasts.

"How about the shower? He's scared of the bathroom since his last bath?" Henry snapped his fingers and clapped face lighting up as he patted your hands slowly easing them off of him.

"Fuck yes! Babe you are a genius!" He moved over and kissed your face making you bat him away and then he turned to Kal wagging a finger at him.

"And you my four legged son are a pain in the ass!" You shook your head patting Kal as he tilted his head he looked offended with his dads statement. You looked to the bathroom door as Henry's pert ass vanished around the door frame.

"Daddy didn't mean it baby boy~ you know how he is when he doesn't get his way...Just a spoiled man child~ he loves you really" Kal whined ears flattening as he heard the shower switch on. You patted the dog with a sigh and got up padding across the bedroom to the en suit.

"Don't worry baby you stay there and daddy wont get you in the mean old shower~" you giggled scratching his ears as he huffed in defeat. His daddy had got the better of him and the Akita wasn't pleased. He grumbled as Henry poked his head around the door frame wriggling his brows at you as you passed him getting a playful smack on the rear. then he faced the dog and stuck his tongue out childishly to the dog who huffed and turned around choosing to give you both a clear view of his ass.

#henry cavill fic #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill smut #henry cavill #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill fluff #kal cavill

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daisyachain · 4 years ago

Note

hi!! i've been reading through your ao no flag liveblogs lately and they're really interesting! i enjoy seeing someone so passionate about this manga and it makes me want to reread it .... i'm really interested in hearing what you have to say about masumi's ending though!! part of me thinks it makes sense but i'm mostly conflicted on it and would love to see it from your perspective ^^

haha well thank you! ah yes, the arc that created as much controversy as you can get in an active readership of like 10 people...

Blue Flag is an imperfect story, but it also gets a lot of flack for things that a) didn't...actually...happen, b) didn't happen in the way people think they did.

Part 1: Is it actually straightwashing?

The most common criticism I see of Masumi's ending is that she was written as a lesbian character and straightwashed at the end. Marrying off a female character as a way to 'fix' her issues is a common and harmful trope, and saying that lesbian women just need to get a man is a widespread homophobic trope and talking point. So, it's not a good look. To have a character angst over interest in a woman and end up happily married to a guy reads like a '50s pulp novel that just uses f/f attraction for marketing.

But, if the intention of the ending was to show that Masumi should give up on women and force herself to date men, then it doesn't. Mitsuyuki's description of her is 'look at my bisexual wife who has dated both women and men and could also have married a woman', which is an odd choice if the intention was straightwashing. It feels more like a clumsy way to make sure that, in a series full of ambiguity, there could be no argument that Masumi was queer. That isn't to say that cisstraight people don't view bisexuality as less/better than/straighter than her being lesbian and that making a previously gay character bisexual isn't still straightwashing (increasing the appearance of straightness).

Part 2: Was it actually a retcon?

So: Masumi's ending reaffirms that she's a WLW. One question is, was she always meant to be bisexual, or was she originally written as lesbian?

Blue Flag doesn't have a lot of straight (no pun intended) answers. Taichi never expresses any explicit attraction to guys, but there is enough subtext to suggest he's attracted to Touma well before the finale. Futaba believes she is attracted to Touma at first and is shown to be attracted to him using the visual shorthand of manga (blushing, etc.), but she later says that it was just misinterpreted admiration. Mami doesn't want to date Touma or any man, but she implies that she is attracted to Touma when she says around him she was 'glad to be a woman.' Within the main romance, Futaba says that it was specifically because Taichi was a friend to her that she grew to like-like him. The lines between friendship and romance are blurred in Blue Flag, and sometimes romance can only grow out of friendship.

Masumi has a tense conversation with Taichi in the first half after she breaks up with her boyfriend that most people (me included) read as her saying that she tried guys and she just isn't and can't be attracted to them. However, it's Blue Flag, so the conversation is unfocused and doesn't paint a complete picture.

"Even if I get a boyfriend, I can never make it work"/"I don't know why [I don't like him anymore]" seem to imply that Masumi realized that she was feeling compulsory heterosexuality and that she will never like men. "[I don't know] why he like someone like me"/"You can be friends with potential sexual partners? With both guys and girls?"/"I just wanted to hear how you men feel about [a girl liking other girls]" seem to imply that Masumi is bisexual and is afraid to date because someone might find out. Maybe she's written as questioning--she knows she likes Futaba, but she's feeling out other possibilities. It's Blue Flag, so it's unclear.

Part 3: How does it work with Masumi's arc?

Diving further into Masumi's story, she acts as a foil to Touma (and Futaba, see later). Touma feels free to show his affection for Taichi as a friend as well as a love interest and almost confesses to him of his own free will, well before he's forced to. Touma tells her that he intends to try and set Taichi up with Futaba (because they would be good for each other), and also that he intends to pursue Taichi in some way. He tells her he's "not like [her]."

For Masumi's part, she tells Touma that she wants to express more affection for Futaba--not necessarily in a romantic way, just to participate more fully in that relationship--but she's afraid to, she doesn't feel confident enough to try, and that she's "the worst" because of it. We see this theme repeated, that Masumi is pessimistic, is afraid to trust people and hates herself for being afraid. Her conversations with Aki and Mami explore this; Aki tells her that it's not bad to be insecure or unready and that it's fine to keep a secret/stay closeted until she's ready, Mami tells her that she does have people she can trust, who care about her and who will do their best to understand her and help out. Why am I typing all this out? Because Masumi is a bitter, insecure wlw and that is an Established Trope, but her twist on it is that her negativity or bitterness isn't over her attraction to women/to Futaba or even over the reaction she might get from others (as Touma's is), it's over her own insecurity. Like Futaba, she's hesitant to act on her feelings, and like Futaba, she gets frustrated and hates herself for her own inaction.

All that is to say--Masumi is never shown to have a problem with her attraction to women. Her angst isn't gayngst, she's not ashamed of her feelings for Futaba bur rather her inability to express them. Her problems are with social attitudes and more with her own personal feelings--she and Touma face similar problems, but Touma is simply aware of the consequences (being roughed up and ostracised by a certain group of people) while Masumi feels a more generalized and ambiguous fear.

If Masumi were shown to have mixed feelings about her queerness/were shown to be in denial/were shown to be trying to move on from Futaba, then her ending would read more as straightwashing. As it is, there's nothing in her character and arc to say that she'd ever want to erase that part of herself or get rid of it, rather, she wishes she could embrace it but she just doesn't feel confident in doing it. Her ending shows her as an openly bisexual woman who is out to her friends and husband at the very least, which is a completion of her arc in the manga (of learning to trust other people and express her feelings honestly).

Part 4: What context clues does the rest of the series give us?

This is branching off a little from the strict text of Parts 1-3. As I've said, as we know, Blue Flag is 50% subtext and interpretation. Characters speak, but they don't say what they mean, characters think, but they're not always honest with themselves or in tune with reality. Mami is an ominous and antagonistic figure in the first half, but then it just turns out that Taichi was jumping to conclusions. Taichi is the main character and narrator, but we get radio silence from him for like 7 chapters after the climax. Taichi is bisexual, but the reader has to guess that from the way the art style shifts between PoVs, the similar panelling between Futaba and Touma's confessions, the things he does and does not think about Touma and how he feels about them. It's safe to say that there is room for speculation.

First, there is no explicit evidence that Taichi could be bisexual before ch 54. It's easy to tell that he is, but again, there's nothing specific. Some people reading Blue Flag have said that him marrying Touma was out of character, unforeshadowed, bizarre, inexplicable, etc. because their experienced is coloured by their own heterosexuality. Masumi is shown to have dated a guy and in saying she didn't like him "anymore," implied that she did like him. Her conflicted feelings over her bf could well have been foreshadowing her liking men as well, and my reading that as comphet could have just been my own experience colouring the text. Who knows! Taichi's bisexuality was intentional from the start but could be read as a last-minute twist, so why not Masumi's?

Second, Mitsuyuki is Futaba 2.0. Same colouring, same personality. This could feel like a way of saying "Masumi just needs to like guys instead," but to me it reads deeper with some of the trans subtext around Futaba. One of my issues with Blue Flag is that it doesn't go further into Futaba's admiration/envy for masculinity and her uncomfortable relationship with femininity. As a cis woman who wants to be buff and mildly masculine, I can understand why she's a cis girl throughout and I don't necessarily think that she was supposed to be a trans guy. However, her relationship with masculinity draws a parallel to Mitsuyuki. Reading Mitsuyuki as a cis man, he is the combination of Futaba's personality and looks with her 'ideal form.' So, Masumi marrying Mitsuyuki can read as Masumi marring Ascended FutabaTM.

Third, Futaba having a faceless prop husband is interesting in the context of Mitsuyuki getting a name and personality. Mitsuyuki = Futaba and Mr. Kuze is a blank space, so the reader is prompted to reduce the scenario and slot Masumi into that blank space. Given Masumi and Touma's history as foils, I'm inclined to think that Mitsuyuki exists to show the road not taken. Back at the fireworks, Touma tells Masumi that he hasn't given up on Taichi, and Masumi says she doesn't intend to pursue Futaba even though the pining is making her miserable. Given that Futaba reacts a lot better to the idea of Masumi liking her than Taichi reacts to the idea of Touma liking him, given that we see Masumi has successfully wooed male!Futaba, I think that Masumi's ending shows that she could have ended up with Futaba if she chose to pursue her. She didn't and she still got a happy ending where she is confident in her sexuality and unafraid to trust, but she could have also had a happy ending where she married Futaba. Mitsuyuki is a man because desire-for-masculinity is a key aspect of Futaba's character, and Mitsuyuki is a named character with a personality because KAITO wanted the reader to know that Masumi could have ended up with Futaba (as Touma ended up with Taichi).

Fourth, KAITO's notes on volume give us a few hints. He comments that there was remarkably little interference with his story and that he was able to tell it as he wanted, and that the ending was meant to be a "question" to the reader. The way I see it, Masumi's ending wasn't meant to say "maybe you'll be fixed if you get a man" but rather was meant to complement Taichi's ending and say "things happen in ways you might not expect, but that doesn't mean they're bad."

Fifth, Touma/Taichi ending up together shows us that the series is willing and able to show queerness as a good thing and a happy ending, so it's unlikely that Masumi was meant to come off as "actually she just needed a man" and more as "life can be unpredictable but you can always find happiness"

Summary

It's unclear whether Masumi was written as a bisexual woman or a lesbian woman or a questioning wlw

I personally read her as a lesbian and I wish that part of her character had gotten more exploration

Masumi's ending wraps up her arc (struggling to trust other people with her feelings in general and her queerness in particular) in a satisfying and logical way

Masumi being bisexual does not in any way negate or lessen her identity and experienes as a wlw, bisexual people still face external and internalized homophobia and all the associated issues

Masumi's bisexuality may well have been foreshadowed, but the execution makes it easier to read her as a lesbian, which makes her ending seem like a homophobic cop-out in the style of the Hays Code

Masumi's ending doesn't straightwash her and goes to unusual lengths to affirm her attraction to women

Masumi's ending seems to be written to contrast Touma's ending, showing that getting or not getting the love interest depends entirely on whether you choose to pursue them

It's unlikely that authorial intent was to straightwash Masumi

#ao no flag #blue flag #itachi masumi #masumi itachi #kelsey liveblogs ao no flag #that 8 volumes of a manga where nothing happens could be so complicated...

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charincharge · 5 years ago

Text

Cruel Summer, Part 24

cruel summer masterlist

AN: We’re almost at the end of this thing. One more chapter and an epilogue. Thank you all for sticking with me and this story. You make me feel like a Queen. Ok, without further ado...

All Rowan wanted was one Aelin-free day to wallow. He even called in sick for the first time in his entire gods damned life to accomplish it, but no – it seems the universe has other plans for him. He can’t escape her. Even on his day off, she manages to appear and twist the knife into his stomach a little further.

The door slams too loudly beneath his touch as he exits his truck, and Manon has the good sense not to ask him if he’s okay. He’s obviously not okay. And he knows when he’s been played. Manon specifically asked him to come inside to help with a drunk girl, not telling him said drunk girl was Aelin.

His chest tightens when he thinks about the way she backed into him to avoid that smarmy creep pawing at her, leaning into him, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She belongs at his side. He knows she does. If only Aelin would admit that, too. If only she saw him as a viable option. A real partner.

Manon flashes him an apologetic smile, but Rowan simply shakes his head as his roommate and her girlfriend disappear behind her bedroom door.

Rowan should get to bed, too, but he slept all day in a depressed fit, and after seeing Aelin, he’s feeling far too agitated to sleep.

Instead, he pulls out his camera and hooks it up to his computer. He’d planned to do this earlier in the day, but instead of being productive during his day off, he slept the pain away. Rowan drums his fingers against his thigh as he waits for the machinery to connect. The photos upload quicker than he thought, and before he knows it, he’s scrolling through hundreds of photos. All of Aelin.

His front tooth nearly pierces the skin of his lip as he bites down onto it, as if by keeping his mouth shut he can hold back the onslaught of emotions threatening to bubble up from his tightened chest. He wishes he had a drink. He’s too sober for this.

Rowan scrolls through, wondering which photo he should edit first. He’s overwhelmed by each photo as is passes his vision. She’s so stunning. Her turquoise eyes pierce through the screen, and the spun gold of her hair glimmers in molten waves in each photo, no matter the lighting or photo composition. There’s a reason he couldn’t stop photographing her, and it’s because the camera loves her. He sighs loudly. He knows that’s not the only thing that loves her.

His heart thuds painfully against his ribs as he stops his scrolling. Because nestled in the swaths of photos of her, is a single photo of the two of them. It’s the only one they ever took. The entire summer. The only proof that they were actually together. That their relationship ever existed.

He’s hesitant to click on it, but he can’t stop himself. The enlarged picture hits him like a punch to the stomach. He remembers the night so clearly, wanting to cheer Aelin up and taking the first steps to have her reconcile with her family. He remembers how beautiful she looked in the buttery twilight with the beginnings of the setting sun behind her, reflecting the metallic ring around her dilated pupil. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, couldn’t resist leaning his face against the smooth skin of her shoulder, breathing in her floral scent and snapping a picture.

He’s knocked over by the way her eyes light up as they look at him, her smile nearly blinding. Joy oozes off the photo, jumping out of the screen, and despite his mood, Rowan can’t help loosen the tooth that pierces his bottom lip, release his feelings and smile. They did exist, and he’s never been more grateful for the tangible evidence. He wants to print this photo and frame it, no matter what happens in the future. He wants to remember them just like this. Wind-tousled and blissfully happy, attached at the hip and in disbelief that they could ever feel this kind of contentment with another person.

He works for an hour, adjusting the color levels and editing the photo. There’s something soothing about returning to the methodical process of changing the lighting and adjusting exposure, getting rid of shadows, until all that remains is a perfect shot of the two of them. By the time he’s finished, he feels somewhat better.

Rowan pauses, admiring his handiwork, impressed at how quickly his editing skills came back to him. He forgot how natural it is for him to sit at a computer. It’s his second language. Before he has time to second guess himself, Rowan opens up an email.

mailto: aelin.ashryver

sender: rwhitethorn

subject: (no subject)

I emptied my photo card and remembered you wanted this one. I have… a lot more of you if you want them. Just let me know.

He attaches the photo and immediately clicks send. He doesn’t want to reread what he said. He’s sure he sounds like an idiot, and he’s positive she doesn’t want the photo anymore, but he can’t not send it to her. He needs her to see it. To have that concrete proof, too. To remember them.

A sudden wave of exhaustion crashes over Rowan, and he glances at the clock. 4am. He groans. His alarm is going to go off far too soon. And he absolutely can’t call in sick again. He closes the laptop and places it next to him, and he’s asleep before he even has time to change out of his clothes.

His dreams are vivid, a whorl of colors and pictures and feelings. Unsurprisingly, everything is Aelin. He sees her on that dance floor, dark eyes pulling him in, her clothes like a second skin over her curves. He imagines himself with her, hips pressed together, arms tangled and pulling each other close enough to breathe the other in while the music pounds overhead. Their lips are like magnets, meeting again and again, without a care in the world for the busy club around them, not caring who sees or watches as her lipstick smudges all over his face. Her phantom hands caress his face, and he feels hot all over.

Rowan wakes in a tangle of his sheets, sweaty and breathless. He’s shocked to see he’s up before his alarm has gone off, a rarity, especially given how late he went to bed, but his adrenaline pulses through him, ensuring he’s solidly awake. He groans and opens his eyes, looking around his room, immediately snagging his sights on his closed laptop. He’s sure Aelin hasn’t emailed him back. It’s barely been four hours. She’s surely still sleeping off her hangover, but that doesn’t stop himself from opening the computer and checking.

His heart jumps when he sees an email waiting with the word Ashryver. But upon a second glance, it’s an email from a different Ashryver than he was expecting. His stomach knots as he reads the email. This can’t be good.

mailto: rowanwhitethorn

sender: evalinashryver

subject: Urgent – Meeting Today at 2PM

Rowan,

Apologies for the late notice, but your presence is requested for a one-on-one meeting today to discuss your employment. A work matter has been brought to our attention that requires immediate discussion. Your manager has been informed that you are to report to our home office for your lunch break at 2PM today.

Best,

Evalin Ashryver

Rowan reads the email three times, his pulse racing faster each time he rereads. An email from Aelin’s mom, wanting to discuss a work matter that requires immediate discussion? That can only mean one thing – the Ashryvers somehow know about his relationship with Aelin, and now with only four fucking days left of his employment, he’s going to be fired. As if the Ashryvers needed another reason to dislike him.

He groans loudly and lets his head fall to his keyboard in frustration. This is the last thing he needs. He’s already feeling awful. He doesn’t feel like defending his love life to the parents of the girl who just brutally discarded him. At least he can tell them in all honestly that things are over.

Rowan tries to take his time in the shower, hoping it’ll calm him down, but the warm water just makes him feel overheated in his own skin. He can’t bring himself to stand in the shower any longer, starting to feel ill. He brushes his wet hair and puts on his cleanest uniform before heading out of the house. The least he can do is look composed.

He arrives at the park a full thirty minutes before his shift. He walks into the employee room to make himself a cup of coffee; he’s going to need some extra caffeine today.

Lorcan and Elide are already in the kitchen, completely wrapped up in each other. Rowan laughs softly at them, the picture of perfect summer love – Lorcan’s hands in Elide’s back pockets, and Elide tugging at Lorcan’s neckline, impatiently trying to bring his lips down to her level.

The pair jumps apart quickly at the sound of Rowan’s laugh, but he waves them off, insisting he doesn’t mind. The smile drops off his face when Lorcan turns to him with a serious expression, though, reminding him of why he’s at the park so early, and what awaits him later today.

“You don’t know what she wants to talk about, do you?” Rowan ventures to ask, and Lorcan shakes his head.

“Sorry, man.”

Elide looks confused, and Rowan fills her in on the ominous email he received this morning. Elide’s brow furrows, trying to come up with an alternate reason that Evalin Ashryver would need to talk to him, but even the optimistic girl is at a loss.

Lorcan slaps his shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “It’ll be okay.”

Rowan isn’t as confident.

Minutes feel like hours as Rowan spirals into dread mode. He spends the morning letting people onto the swings, but nothing is distracting enough to keep his mind off the impending conversation about his employment. Despite Rowan’s decision to move back to Wendlyn at the end of the moth, he’s calculated his move down to the last dollar and really needs this final paycheck. It’s not like he’s been able to save this summer. He’s barely made minimum wage. He spends the morning frowning away, lost in a maelstrom of possible outcomes of this conversation – each one worse than the last.

When 1:45 rolls around, Lorcan pulls Rowan off his shift and tells him to head to the Ashryvers’.

The sinking feeling returns to Rowan’s stomach when he checks his phone and sees that on top of everything, Aelin hasn’t replied to his email.

Instead of walking, Rowan gets into his truck and drives to the Ashryver Estate. He doesn’t want to risk getting sweaty and gross walking along the beach, and he definitely wants to be prompt.

For the first time all summer, Rowan parks at the head of the Ashryvers’ driveway. He takes in the large house, which suddenly looks scarier than ever. It’s funny. He’s been in this house about a hundred times since May, but it’s still as imposing as ever.

On the front stoop, Rowan pokes his toe at a loose stone and shoves his hands in his pockets. He doesn’t know what awaits him on the other side of that door, but he knows it’s not good. Sweat beads down the back of his thick uniform polo under the hot August sun overhead. He tugs at his collar, trying to give himself some room to breathe. But he’s finding it quite difficult. He’s been on the other side of this door plenty, but he can’t help but think of all the times he used Aelin’s window as his entrance. If her parents know about that... His stomach clenches with nausea. He’s kept Aelin’s secret, yes, but he’s been so incredibly disrespectful to her parents. He wasn’t brought up this way. His mom would absolutely smack him if she knew this was how he conducted himself this summer. He juts his chin out, ready for his chastising. He knows he deserves it. Rowan lifts his hand out of his pocket and hovers it over the thick wood paneling of their front door. If he waits any longer to knock, he’ll be late, and he knows arriving late to this meeting is the absolute worst thing he could do to Evalin Ashryver. Well, besides sleeping with her heiress daughter and sullying her good name. Rowan rubs his hand along his face. He is so utterly fucked. He can’t wait any longer. Rowan knocks steadily in three even raps. The door swings open, and Rowan swallows nervously as Aelin comes into view, looking worse for wear. He was expecting Evalin to answer the door, and Rowan feels even more off-balance at this twist. He doesn’t know why he didn’t expect Aelin. She looks even more surprised to see him, and Rowan doesn’t think he’s ever seen her so out of sorts.

She tugs at her tangled, unbrushed hair, which is falling out of her low ponytail, swollen eyes filled with confusion. Remnants of eyeliner and mascara darken her bottom lash, making her bloodshot eyes even more prominent, and her skin is pale and clammy. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was very, very sick. He watches as Aelin pulls her robe closed tighter, hiding her thin tank top and shorts from his view. “Rowan?” She croaks, her voice barely a whisper between them, echoing in the marble foyer. “What are you doing here?”

Rowan looks down and takes note of her large furry slippers. He can’t help but smile.

“Those are cute,” he says, pointing at her feet, and Aelin’s nose scrunches up as she tries to hide one slipper behind the other.

She wipes at the dark circles under her eyes, and Rowan recognizes that she’s feeling self-conscious about the way she looks. Not that she should. Even hung over and disheveled, Aelin is the most beautiful person he’s ever seen in his life. He’s about to reassure her when Dorian ambles out of the kitchen, a foil wrapped food in hand.

“What’s up?” he asks, and Rowan shrugs tersely as Dorian wraps his arm around Aelin’s shoulders. Aelin looks up at Dorian, eyes wide and unblinking, clearly still out of sorts. “Your burrito is ready,” Dorian says in a soft aside, nudging Aelin in the ribs. She licks her chapped lips and gives him a small smile.

“Do you want some lunch?” Aelin asks Rowan, her words filled with nerves. Rowan is anxious to talk to Aelin, of course, but he remembers that he’s not here to chat with her and steadies himself as he shakes his head. Rowan thinks she looks disappointed, but he can’t be quite sure.

“I’m actually here for a meeting. With your mom,” he clarifies. “Is she around?”

Aelin’s mouth drops into a soft circle as she begins to ask why. He’s about to answer her and maybe ask for any intel or advice when Evalin appears, looking even more austere than usual in a dark blue dress, her hair neatly pinned back in a perfectly coiffed chignon and a strand of pearls around her neck. Her heels click clack along the marble floor until she reaches Rowan. She greets him with a warm hug and a wide smile. “Rowan. Right on time.” She squeezes his arm lightly. “Let’s chat in my office, okay?” she says firmly, and Rowan has no choice but to nod. Aelin clearly doesn’t know what’s going on and looks as confused as ever. “Mom?” “Aelin,” Evalin chides. “When you finish your …” she pauses dramatically and nods at the foil in Dorian’s hands. “…breakfast, can you please go take a shower? I can still smell the vodka coming off your skin.” “But...” Evalin’s glare silences her daughter immediately, but it doesn’t wipe the look of confusion from her questioning face as she nods. Satisfied, Evalin leads Rowan into her office. Rowan remembers the room well from his tour with Aelin all those weeks ago, but it somehow seems even more daunting now. It’s clear the room is rarely used, despite the armchair by the window and the large mahogany desk at the center of the room. Rowan looks up and up and up. The built-in bookcases threaten to swallow him hole, with bindings going up to the ceiling. Evalin trails slowly to the desk and leans against the edge, rather than sitting in the large high-backed chair behind it. She points to a smaller chair for Rowan to sit in, and he takes his place immediately. Evalin’s face is tight with a forced smile, and he's sure any second now he’s going to receive a verbal lashing.

“So,” she begins, and Rowan sits up straighter. “It’s my understanding that your last day at the park is on Saturday,” Evalin says, and Rowan nods, his throat too tight to verbally respond. The room creaks and settles, the dark wooden floors also seemingly holding its breath to see what Evalin has to say.

Evalin pauses and holds a single finger up. Rowan watches with interest as she walks to the far bookcase and pushes slightly. The wall cracks open, and Rowan remembers the number of secret passageways and hallways Aelin led him through in their tour. So, he’s not entirely surprised to see Aelin and Dorian, crouching in the entryway of the hidden tunnel.

“Children,” Evalin scolds, and Aelin and Dorian are quick to scramble to their feet.

“Mom…” Aelin peers over her shoulder, trying to get a better look at where Rowan sits, but Evalin isn’t having any of it.

“Rowan and I are in a private meeting right now,” she says. Aelin looks like she wants to object, but Evalin pays her no mind. “No one likes a snoop.” She ushers them into the study and leads them toward the door without a word.

“I swear, she has super-sonic hearing,” Dorian mumbles, and Evalin smiles.

“I do,” she says, causing Dorian to blush. Rowan doesn’t think he’s ever seen him so flustered. It would be amusing if he weren’t sure he was about to be on the receiving end of Evalin’s wrath himself.

“Don’t let me catch you back there again,” she says sternly, and Dorian and Aelin reply with yes ma’ams in unison. Aelin looks over her shoulder one last time at Rowan before departing, and Rowan wants nothing more than to chase after her, but he’s stuck in his chair.

Evalin returns to her spot, leaning against the desk and crosses her arms. “Now. Where were we?” Rowan waits in silence. “Oh yes. Your employment coming to an end.”

Rowan’s stomach sinks. He’s about to get fired. He feels like he has to speak up, defend himself. But he’s not exactly sure what to say. So, he just babbles.

“Mrs. Ashryver, Evalin, ma’am…” He tugs at his hair, trying to work out his nerves, and barrels forward. “I’m so sorry if I’ve disrespected you or your family. It wasn’t my intention at all, but I would really love to finish out the week at Playland. I know I’ve overstepped my bounds, but I promise it won’t happen again. Ever.”

Evalin quirks her eyebrow at him and nods succinctly. “I understand why you would think you overstepped your bounds,” she says. “But, you didn’t.”

Rowan pauses, holding his breath. “I didn’t?”

“No. In fact, I was discussing it with Rhoe, and we both very much appreciate your initiative.”

Rowan lifts an eyebrow in confusion. “You do?”

Evalin laughs warmly, her smile reminding him so much of Aelin suddenly as her turquoise eyes crinkle with happiness. “Yes.” She crosses her ankles and leans forward.

Rowan pauses again and crosses his arms. “I think I’m confused,” Rowan finally admits, and Evalin laughs even more.

“I can see that.”

“So I’m not getting fired?” Rowan asks hesitantly, and then it’s Evalin’s turn to look confused.

“Fired? What on earth for?” She shakes her head. “No, of course not.”

His brow furrows. “So, what are we talking about?”

“Are you still interested in pursuing a career in tech?” Rowan nods slightly, his thoughts bouncing around and wondering what the hell Evalin actually wants to talk about. If not Aelin… “I have an opportunity for you.”

Evalin pulls out a packet of papers from behind her on the desk and hands it to Rowan. He looks over the printout and then looks back up at Evalin, who is still smiling at him.

“I brought your app idea to the Playland board, and they were very impressed. They’re going to start a development team. It was a smart idea,” she chuckles. “In fact, I’m annoyed with myself that I didn’t think of it first.” He looks over the papers in his hand again. It’s the breakdown of the app he pitched over dinner. He can’t believe it. Evalin clears her throat. “I don’t know what your employment plans are beyond Sunday, but we’d love for you to join the team.”

Rowan’s mouth drops. He’s actually speechless. Of all the things to he could talk about with Evalin Ashryver, this didn’t even make it to the bottom of the list. Never in his wildest dreams did he think she would take his idea seriously, much less pitch it to the board and then offer him a job there. His stomach churns slightly.

“The only catch is—” Rowan holds his breath as he wonders what the strings attached to this offer are. “The job starts in two weeks, and it would be in our offices in Adarlan.”

Rowan exhales, an onslaught of feelings attacking him. He can’t process what she’s just said.

“Adarlan….”

Evalin nods. “I understand that it would be a significant move, but we’d help with the relocation costs, and—”

Rowan stops her, thinking about showing up in Adarlan in two weeks, the place where Aelin lives. An awful thought crosses his mind.

“You’re not just offering this to me because I’m… friends with Aelin, are you?” he asks nervously. “I don’t want to take a job I haven’t earned.”

Evalin frowns and pats at her pearls. “Rowan, you have more than earned your spot on this team. It was your idea. But if it makes you more comfortable, you can interview with the head of the team. He’s meeting with a few other candidates in the next few days. I’ll tell him to add you to the list.”

Rowan nods. “I’d like that.”

“Excellent,” Evalin claps her hands happily. “Look out for an email from Malakai or his assistant to schedule the interview for this week. In the meantime, please send me your resume, so I can forward it along.” She pauses and looks at Rowan seriously. “Now, would you care to tell me why you thought you were being fired?”

Rowan coughs, and he can fill blood filling his cheeks with embarrassment. “Not particularly,” he mumbles.

Evalin chuckles again and sighs loudly. “I’m sorry if my email was scary,” she apologizes. “I didn’t want to give away the surprise, but now that I think about the wording, I may have misled you.”

“It may have taken a few years off my life,” Rowan says, causing Evalin to burst into laughter. “But thank you,” he continues, “I’m incredibly grateful for this opportunity.”

The study door cracks open and Rhoe pokes his head in. “Ah, did I miss it?” he asks, entering and clicking the door shut behind him. Evalin rolls her eyes at her husband.

“You did.” She looks at her watch and then back at him. “I told you. 2pm, promptly.”

“I got distracted by burritos,” Rhoe admits, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Who knew Dorian was such a good chef?” He pauses and looks at Rowan. “So, did the Ashryvers recruit a new coder?”

“Not officially,” Evalin answers for him. “Rowan, ever the humble and upstanding young man, has insisted upon an interview.”

“Ah, of course,” Rhoe says with a soft smile. “I told you he wouldn’t just accept a job offer.”

Evalin’s eyes twinkle at her husband. “Yes, I know. You know everything, darling.”

She kisses him lightly on his cheek before looking back at Rowan.

“Alright, well, I have other meetings to attend to, sadly,” Evalin says, “But I look forward to hearing about your interview.” She shakes Rowan’s hand firmly and heads out of the study. Rowan starts to follow her, but Rhoe holds him back for a second.

“I just wanted to thank you,” Rhoe says, and Rowan is immediately caught off-guard.

“For what, sir?”

“Don’t look so shellshocked, Rowan,” he says with a soft laugh. “We’ve loved getting to know you this summer. Having you around has been a treat. I know it must be hard to be away from your own parents, on the other side of the country. But, I would be remiss if I didn’t tell you how proud of yourself you should be. This app was a phenomenal idea. You’ve proven yourself to be intelligent, driven and…” Rowan can feel heat rising to his cheeks at Rhoe’s praise. He watches carefully as Rhoe pauses and lowers his voice, looking around conspiratorially. “And… don’t think I don’t know who’s kept that smile on my daughter’s face all summer.”

Rowan’s heart thumps in his chest. Rhoe knows. Oh god. Rhoe knows.

“I…uh…what?” Rowan stutters, unsure of how to respond. Luckily, Rhoe laughs and slaps a hand onto Rowan’s shoulder.

“Don’t look so petrified, son. I’m happy for you both.” Rhoe looks sincere, but Rowan’s stomach clenches at an awful thought.

“That’s not why you offered me this job, is it?” Rowan asks softly. He has to know. He won’t take it, won’t even interview for it if they’re offering it to him because of his relationship with Aelin.

“No no no,” Rhoe assures him. “My wife is not the most observant human on the planet. She has no clue. You and Aelin can tell her whenever you’re ready.”

Rowan rubs his hand against the back of his neck, needing something to do. “Well.” He coughs lightly. “I don’t think there’s anything to tell anymore.”

“That’s a shame,” Rhoe says, his voice sad but a small smile making an appearance on his face. Rowan wonders what Rhoe knows that he doesn’t. But he’s too overwhelmed to think about that just yet.

“Thank you for this opportunity,” Rowan says again, and he means it.

Rhoe shrugs him off. “I did nothing. This was all Evalin,” he says with a smile. “And, Rowan? You created this opportunity all yourself.”

Rowan nods and smiles stiffly as Rhoe leads him back out to the foyer.

A freshly showered Aelin sits on the stairs, finishing her final bite of burrito, and she stands quickly upon seeing her dad and Rowan. Rhoe pats her head as he passes by, giving Rowan a sly smile.

“So,” she says, and Rowan replies with the same sentiment. “Are you going to tell me what that was all about?” she asks.

Rowan wants to tell her. He really does. But he’s too overwhelmed with possibilities at the moment. He doesn’t want to tell her anything that isn’t real. He can’t risk seeing her reaction to this news. Not when it could possibly break him.

“It was nothing,” Rowan says, and Aelin’s brow furrows, knowing he’s lying to her. I mean, he had a legit meeting with her parents. And no one has told her a thing. He knows she’s dying for information, but he just can’t tell her anything yet. “Where’s Dorian?” he asks, trying to change the topic.

“Showering,” she says, flicking her eyes upwards to the ceiling. “Do you want a burrito? They’re amazing…” she asks, but Rowan shakes his head.

“I should get back to work,” he says, looking at the time. He can’t believe how long they were in there talking.

“Right.” Aelin sighs and follows him to the door. “Hey, Rowan?” she says, stopping Rowan before he reaches for the door handle. “Thanks for last night,” she says. “For rescuing me.” He nods stiffly. “I know that wasn’t your idea of a good night.” He shakes his head, laughing softly. No it wasn’t. “And Rowan? The picture? Thank you for sending it,” she says quietly. “I love it.”

Rowan smiles. “I do, too.”

Aelin bites her lip and twirls her long, wet hair around her fist. “You’re really not going to tell me what my parents talked to you about?”

“Nope.”

“You’re torturing me on purpose,” she says, and Rowan laughs.

“Maybe.”

He averts his eyes, not wanting to look at her, knowing he could break at any second. But Aelin seems to accept his reticence.

Aelin sighs. “I deserve that.”

Rowan wants nothing more than to talk with her and tell her everything, ask what he should do, what it would mean for them, but he knows he needs to think about this without her input.

“Ok, I really need to leave or I’m going to be late,” he says, and Aelin gasps.

“Right! Of course. Go.”

Rowan leans in to her hug her, on autopilot, without even thinking about it. And he can feel Aelin’s sharp inhale of breath as he wraps his arms around her shoulders and mindlessly brushes his lips against the top of her head.

“Sorry…” he says, pulling back quickly.

“It’s fine,” she chokes out, and Rowan flees the premises before she can say anything else.

By the time he gets back to work, Rowan’s imagination has run off without him. He can’t help but think of all the ways his life would change if he were to take this job in Adarlan. Would he be able to pursue Aelin, even if he was still working for her mother? Would they have to tell her mom? Clearly her dad knows, but for some reason, Rowan thinks he’s more amiable to the idea of Rowan than Evalin is. Or, was this whole job opportunity a ruse to get him to be a more acceptable partner for Aelin, one they wouldn’t be ashamed of? Doubts and confusion plague his thoughts as he rips tickets.

When Rowan receives the email from Malakai’s assistant later that night, asking to interview the following afternoon, Rowan is more unsure than before.

So, Rowan does what he should have done as soon as Aelin ended things with him, he calls his mom to tell her everything.

Dora wakes from an early evening nap to answer his call, and Rowan immediately feels guilty, but Dora is more than happy to talk to her son. He explains his situation to her, getting more and more tied up in his emotions as he goes, and when he finishes, Dora is silent on the other line.

“Mom?” he asks, and Dora sighs loudly.

“My sweet boy,” she clucks. “You know I would love nothing more than to have you back home with me, but… you need to do this.” She pauses. “No matter what happens with Aelin, this is the beginning of your career. With an app you thought of yourself and are going to get made. Rhoe was right. You should be very proud of yourself. I know I’m proud of you.”

“Doesn’t it feel like cheating though?” Rowan asks. “Like if I hadn’t been seeing Aelin, I never would have gotten this chance, and I’d be moving home with you.”

“Baby,” she laughs. “That isn’t cheating. It’s called networking. And yes, you were in the right place at the right time, but it doesn’t make you any less deserving of this. You deserve this so much.”

Rowan sighs. “But…what if Aelin gets upset that I followed her back to her hometown. I’ll feel like a crazy pathetic stalker.”

“Fuck what Aelin thinks.”

“Mom!” he says with a laugh. He’s never heard her swear so casually before.

“This is about you. And she should support you, even if she doesn’t want to date you.”

Rowan hesitantly agrees. It’s not like Aelin works for her parents. In fact, she’s told him many times she never wants to, and hates going into the Ashryver offices. And Adarlan is a big city. The chances of him accidentally running into her are slim.

Feeling slightly appeased, Rowan thanks his mom and preps for his interview. His feelings for Aelin aside, he wants this. He just hopes he can start believing he deserves it, too.

~*~*~*~

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