#Beta Reader Feedback

[mehmetyildizmelbourne-blog]

The First Chapter of New Book “Substack Mastery” for Beta Readers

Why I wrote this book and how freelance writers and content entrepreneurs can benefit from it Introduction to My New Book for Free A few months ago, when I publicly announced that I would dedicate 80% of my time to Substack, 15% to Newsbreak, and just 5% to Medium, I received an intriguing call from one of my book publishers. This serendipitous encounter was inspiring, much like one of my…

[writingwithfolklore]

Questions from Beta Readers are Rhetorical

You know when people leave you questions on your work during the feedback process like, “why is she doing this?” or “who is this again?” or “how does this relate to what was just said?” You’re not meant to reply back and answer those.

They aren’t asking because they want you to explain it to them—or at least, that’s not very helpful to the actual work. They’re asking because something in the manuscript is unclear. Most readers won’t have the benefit of having you next to them to answer questions as they go—the work has to hold up on its own. If something is unclear, it should be addressed in the text, it’s pretty useless if it’s addressed only in your answer back to your beta reader.

So actually, when people ask me questions about my manuscript, I don’t answer them at all. I go back into the work and try to clarify, and then I have them read it again. If they have the same question, it means I need to try again until the confusion is cleared up.

Sometimes the people I edit for reply back with paragraphs of explanation, and I tell them that it’s great that they understand it, but I don’t need or want them to explain it to me afterward. I was asking the question so they knew what exactly was unclear to me (a bit more helpful than saying “this is confusing”). I want the understanding to come from just reading the piece.

That being said, some beta readers might want you to chat about it further with them—it’s up to you guys! But if you don’t also address the question in the work, you’re not doing yourself or your piece any favours.

[satoruyes]

co-parent bakugou

katsuki bakugou x reader (part two)

   fwb! bakugou who often came by your dorm during college to drop off school work when you missed lectures and loads when you missed him.

fwb! bakugou who came by before bed to fuck you into your pillow and listen to your hushed moans, hushed so your roommates wouldn’t hear. (they did)

fwb! bakugou who’s scared of committing because he “couldn’t see you in his future” and was too focused on his.

fwb! bakugou who’s late night visits became more and more scarce.

fwb! bakugou who months later soft launches his new partner on his story after telling you he’s not ready for a relationship.

fwb! bakugou who stops breathing at the sight of your name popping up on his phone as he cuddles his partner while watching movies, and nearly has a stroke at the “Im pregnant.” text. 

_____

“well are ya sure it’s mine?” he asks, not daring to look away from you. you break eye contact and look outside the coffee shops’ window to focus on anything other than this conversation you’ve been dreading. “are you serious? you should know i’m not exactly one to sleep around,” you say to the man. he nods and his grip on his mug gets tighter, knuckles visibly whiter. “well, are ya keepin’ it,” he asks, “i don’t think  that’d be a bright idea for either of us.” you kind of glare but think over his words. “you know how my parents feel about abortion kats.. i’d be disowned. the second the press found out about it, my family would be done for,” your eyes start to water and a tear threatens to fall, you pause “.. i thought you said you don’t do relationships?”

katsuki stares at you and shakes his head, “those fuckin’ hormones already getting to your brain or somethin?“ he sighs, “you know i can’t do this *nickname*. i’m in a committed relationship with raya, we’re getting engaged next month. on top of that, i can’t be number one with a baby leechin’ of me.” your heart drops, “you’re.. getting engaged? i.. um.. well, congratulations. i’m sorry to burden you with all of this… and i can’t abort it anyway.. i.. i’m too far along.. and i cant do this.” you finish & get up from the table and leave.

________

baby daddy! bakugou who ends up losing contact with you for months after you block him on everything a refuse to meet up per your family’s request.

baby daddy! bakugou who nearly forgets about you years later til kirishima brings you up and shows him your instagram.

baby daddy! bakugou who gets home and stalks you from a burner account, finds out you still talk to everyone from college but him.

baby daddy! bakugou who sees a pretty little ruby-eyed girl down your timeline, her resemblance to him uncanny.

baby daddy! bakugou who pulls some strings and texts your number asking to meet his daughter, hana. 

___________

hana is 2 years old by now, forming choppy sentences and now waddling on her feet. after a week of texting, you finally fold and let him come over to meet his daughter. when you open the door to let him in he nearly finds himself choking on his spit at how beautiful you are. you looked even better than your posts, if that’s possible. you greeted him with a nod and invited him in. he takes his shoes off and head to the living room you led him to. you exchange stale pleasantries and small talk til you decide to go get your baby girl. “her name is ‘hana lei bakugou,’ as much as i wanted her to have my last name.”

you walk over to him and hand her to him, noticing the wedding band resting around his ring finger. you scoff, “wow so you two actually got married?” he nods and analyzes his daughters’ features. “shes so pretty, just like ‘er momma,” he half smiles and look up at you. “so i’ll have her back later tonight, gonna take ‘er home to meet the wife and all of that.” he goes to get off the couch. “woah, you don’t get to do that. you don’t get to come back back after all this time like nothing happened.” he looks frustrated for a second, “you can’t just- … yea yer right, ‘m sorry.’’

you nod, “how about we go up to her room and play?” he agrees and follows you into his daughter’s bedroom while carrying her.

“So.. how long have you two been in the area?” he asks, scanning his daughter's room. “I never really left, just moved closer to the city i guess,” you reply; putting hana down to the floor. She waddles over to katsuki. “hana, baby this is your father,” you look down at the little girl. At first she looks up at you with her glowing beady eyes then she looks over to Katsuki sitting over on a couch. “papa?” she asks and she points her dainty finger at him. you nod and smile. “yes baby, that's your papa.” 

katsuki looks at the little girl and she reaches up for him. “up.” she says, and he obliges. you two talk and rekindle for what seemed to be days. In reality it was just about 4 hours. “*name* it was really nice to see you again, let's go out for dinner sometime. with hana of course.” you lead him downstairs while he says his goodbyes to hana. 

-- 

“I told ya about this years ago raya, you can't be mad about this. What did you expect? for them to disappear?” bakugou yells at his wife. “well i didnt fucking expect you to go out of your way to to reach out either!” she pouts, anger and jealousy laced in her tone. “I have to own up to this responsibility now whether you like it or not, stop fuckin’ cursin’ at me. ‘m already stressed as is; ‘ion need yer bitchin’.” 

“oh so now i'm bitching because you went out and got some slut pregnant.. you're just full of it katsuki.” raya says, glaring at him now. “ya cant get mad at me because I wanna be a father, ‘nd not just leave some kid stranded out here.” 

“it's not just about the kid is it? do you miss the bitch or something? do you miss the sex? did she give you better head than I do?” raya accuses, bakugou sighs and goes to leave the room, “‘nd yea- she did give better head.” as he walks to their shared room he can hear her still yelling in the distance.

katsuki bakugou goes to sleep confused tonight. He wonders why was he such a prick. he wonders why did his heart pound so fast- why were his hands so sweaty when he saw you.

he couldn't do this. he has a wife. hes happily married, regardless of any arguments. his wife was the mayors daughter and promised him various things, she promised him glory. of course he didn't need her but it's definitely more helpful to have more "support." plus you hated him, only putting up with him for the sake of his daughter. no, it wasn't attraction- it was just nervousness. he loved his wife.

katsuki woke up to his wife, raya in his arms. she looked so pretty and peaceful like this. he snapped out of his daze and got out of bed to catch a shower. he couldn't help but find his hand reaching down to take care of himself. usually when he finds himself touching himself; its of thoughts of his wife from the night prior. but today it was you. he felt shameful but he just couldnt help it. he couldn't stop himself from thinking about you. hes only human.    

[foldingfittedsheets]

Fuuuuuck. The new comic is up to 13 pages and I still haven’t stuck the landing. Fuck… do I ruthlessly cut or do I lean in and make it a three parter?

[1wh4re1]

Okay so more Ghoap x F!Reader. Just a blurb. Also, these will definitely be in whatever order inspiration strikes me first.

You're covered in sweat, tendrils of hair sticking to your face and you swear you swear you can still feel your left side despite the epidural. You've been at this for what feels like days despite it being less than 10 hours.

This wasn't how you imagined the birth of your baby. One partner whose remains had drifted over that beautiful cliffside and the other god knows where who chose to walk away from you. Still, you are grateful for the man holding your hand beside you now.

John Price never imagined he'd be in this situation. Your hand gripping his (quite painfully god your grip is strong), and him wiping away your sweat and tears. He knows he isn't the man who should be here and he knows that he shouldn't have sent Simon to chase a lead so close to your due date even though the man doesn't even know you're pregnant at all.

He watches you flush, tears leaking from your eyes through another round of pushing, and thinks he is quite possibly the biggest bastard on earth for keeping this secret for you.

You're exhausted. Worn out. Dead beat tired. The doctor between your legs encourages you. Only a few more pushes she says and you're almost there. You sob, heaving breaths as more tears stream down your face. Squeezing Price's hand you start to push again, praying that this is the end.

The relief of hearing your baby cry for the first time is overshadowed by the blood rushing through your ears and the wooziness you feel. You can't make out what the doctors are saying.

"What...what are they saying," you slur, tongue feeling heavier than lead in your mouth as you roll your head over to look at Price. "Where's my baby, why can't I see my baby?"

Price tries to reassure you but the room is erupting into chaos around him. The monitors attached to you start to wail.

"BP is dropping."

"She's hemorrhaging."

"We need an OR stat. Page them and tell them we are on the way."

"Sir, we need to move her please go to the waiting room."

The last thing you feel is Price's hand leaving yours before you slip under into a cool abyss.

@thefictionalgemini @ghostslittlegf @oniiloma @astro-ghoul99

[theunboundwriter]

Beta Readers / Editors Needed !!

Hi friends! I am looking to publish a collection of short stories and am looking for some people to read over a few of my works before I prepare to publish.

I've shared the link to see a few from my collection, and if you could comment any edits or suggestions it would be greatly appreciated!

I am looking for honest feedback and would so so so appreciate any input you are willing to give. Thank you so much!!!

[aoi1dee]

i’m trying to figure out how to promote my game in the most vague way possible bc i’m still writing it

[dansemacabre]

pinesconers. for my x files au.

[artemis-73]

Suptober Day 14: Fave Episode

"…I need you to keep the faith, for both of us. ‘Cause right now, I… Right now, I don’t believe in a damn thing," Dean says, heartbroken eyes glimmering with tears.

Chuck hits pause. The shot holds on a closeup of Dean, so obviously changed by everything he's lost. With a thought, the lights in the movie theatre raise. "A perfect ending to the episode, right? All of Dean's angst and pain and suffering stewing in what was once a hopeful, bright-eyed and bushytailed kid. Him needing to lean on Sam. You love that, right?"

Becky hasn't moved. She's staring up at the screen with tears in her eyes. She looks back at Chuck. "What… No! What happens next? Does Cas come back? Does Mary?"

There's satisfaction in knowing that she's hooked on the story, even if she's being a little pushier than he'd like and is focused on all the wrong things. "Who cares? Mary's resurrection was Amara's failed experiment. I love my sister, but she's got no instinct for what makes a good story. And Cas? Cas should've been gone years ago. It's time for Dean to get over it. He's in the Empty, which is where he'll stay. Think of it as the cutting room floor. I can't see them; they can't see me. Come on. Let's focus on what matters: Lucifer's kid, huh? That's a fun villain."

Becky swipes at her eyes with shaking hands. "Jack?" she asks. "He's just a kid. He hasn't done anything wrong. He seems to really care about Cas, too. Maybe he can help Sam and Dean get Cas back."

"Enough about Cas!" The lights flicker, and the theater shakes. Chuck wishes he could find anyone else to be a part of his focus group, but Becky's the only one he can trust with all the lore. Sure, he doesn't always listen, but he has to know the rules before he can break them. "Now, Cas is gone for good. So let's talk about my outline for the rest of the season—"

"Wait," Becky interrupts, always so inconsiderate. "There's still a minute left in the episode."

Chuck whirls to face the screen. His little outburst must have jolted the electrical because below Dean's devastated face is the scrub bar with the episode length. It should only have a couple of seconds left, after all, there's no need for credits during a private screening with the Creator. Chuck is sure that when he cut the episode together, this was the last shot he chose.

But there's a still a minute and change left.

He scrambles for the remote. He has to know, even though he dreads what comes next. It has to be Amara. It has to be.

Dean's face twitches into action as he breaths raggedly for another second. Then it cuts to a shot of Castiel lying in a field. A familiar field.

"No, no, no, NO! I cut the meadow. I cut Dean spreading his ashes, and I cut Castiel."

Castiel stands in the sun, his smiling face tilted toward the sun, and then the episode ends, and the screen goes black. In the silence that follows, Chuck seethes. Bringing Cas back from the Empty would've taken some serious mojo. More than anyone but Amara has, but Amara doesn't care about the angel. She doesn't care about Dean, really. She wouldn't intervene. Maybe to spite—

"Jack," he breathes. He remembers the last episode when Jack overheard Sam and Dean's big knockdown drag out, and his eyes had glowed golden, and he'd said Castiel's name right before the episode ended. "It's impossible. He can't be that powerful already."

"Wait, so Jack saved his dad?" Becky is beaming because she has no taste.

"Shut up." Chuck snaps his fingers and sends her back to her boring life. He'll need to work through a couple drafts before bringing her back. He'd hoped for more time to pick her brain before wiping it again, but he has so much work to do.

Step One: Get rid of Jack.

Step Two: Get rid of Castiel.

[dockett]

All The Very Best of Us II Din Djarin x Reader

Born to Beg For You: non-linear one shots. The Mandalorian helps a slave.

Summary: You take some initiative.

Warnings: minors dni, 18+ only! Smut!! Oral/fingering (f! Receiving), unprotected p in v.

Word count: 2.6k

Hello my friends! I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to come out with another post, but here you are! This takes place after Everything I Love! Hope you all enjoy!

You fidgeted, nervous as you pulled at the bra you were wearing. You watched your reflection as you listened to Djarin move about the ship. You sighed, looking over yourself. The lingerie was a deep red, crimson as blood, and it hugged your body in all the right ways. You felt… pretty. A rarity. 

Would he think the same? 

You pushed away the immediate thought of rejection that followed, your brain conjuring the image of the Mandalorian refusing you—dismissing you even. Shaking your head, you tried to focus on the facts: he allowed you to sleep in his bunk now—encouraged it, even. You had learned in your time with him that his primary love language was physical affection, his arms always wrapped around you at night, his hands always finding a place at the small of your back during the day. You had danced around your affection for each other, never verbalizing it.

He had told you weeks before that he had wanted you, but he wanted to take it slow. You hesitated again. Would this be pushing the boundary he had wanted to hold with you? You finally met your eyes in the mirror, and you heard him make his way into the cockpit, no doubt doing his final check over everything before getting settled to rest with you. 

You nodded to yourself as you came to a conclusion, you would try, and if he wasn't ready, it didn't mean he wouldn't eventually be. Before you could second guess yourself, you opened the fresher door and made your way to his bunk. 

You sat down on the bed to wait for him and you felt the seconds tick by, slow and agonizing. 

When you heard his footsteps, you leaned back, staring at the door. He knocked once, asking, “Can I come in?” 

“Yes,” you called, bracing yourself. 

The door slid open and he stepped once before stopping completely. His helmet was focused on you, visor gleaming in the low light. He didn't move or speak, making no indication of what was on his mind. You glanced away, feeling your cheeks heat up. 

“I… I hope that this is okay,” you mumbled. “I was—well, I am—nervous.” 

He shook his head after a beat, stepping fully into the small space and closing the door behind him. You swallowed, bare feet rubbing against each other in anxiousness. He took another step, and lifted his arms, slowly reaching to discard his gloves. You held your breath as his golden skin came into view. His hands reached for you as he got closer, fingers wrapping around your ankles and pulling your feet apart. 

A shudder ripped through your body as he finally spoke. “This is more than okay.” His voice dripped with desire and a feverish heat ravaged through your body, lighting your skin on fire. “Do you think you can do this to me and get away with it, mesh’la? Maker, you're tempting me.” 

He knelt down onto the bed, his hands now tracing up your thighs. You breathed harder, head tilted down as you gazed up at him through your eyelashes. 

“Tempting you?” You asked coyly. “I'm not doing anything.”

He hummed. His hand gripped your hip as the other came to your cheek, cradling it in a gentle hold. His thumb brushed over your lip. You knew he was staring at them from under that visor. You were seized with an idea, and slowly, you took his thumb into your mouth and without looking away, you sucked. 

His hand tightened its hold on your side and his chest heaved. You smiled, delighted by the effect you had on him and released his thumb with a loud ‘pop!’

“Senaar���” he groaned. Your thighs trembled and wetness pooled between them. 

“I want you,” you told him, moving to kiss the palm of his hand. You had wanted him for a long, long time. His body pulled away, and you frowned, reaching to keep him close, but he was too fast for you.

Panic ensued, and you felt that maybe you shouldn't have said what you said. The room was plunged into darkness a second later as you tried to gather your thoughts. 

“Need to taste you,” he growled, stepping back towards you. Then, you heard the sound of metal being set down. A harsh realization struck you. He was taking off his armor.

“Stop,” you said. All movement halted. It was impossible to see anything with the lights off. “Are… are you sure?” 

A pause before you heard, “I am.”

“Wouldn't that be—”

“It's fine, mesh'la.”

You hesitated, but finally nodded. “Okay.”

Nervousness tingled in your stomach and he told you to take off your bralette. More soft clinking sounds echoed through the room, and then the unfamiliar hiss of his helmet being detached. The bed dipped with his weight, his hands reaching and finding your legs in the dark after you had discarded the lingerie. You startled when you felt his lips, and the faintest scratch of facial hair, along your calf. 

His hands trailed up the tops of your thighs, fingers curling around your underwear before sliding the pair off and down your legs, discarding them somewhere on the floor. He kissed up your leg, and you shuddered. Was this even real? Was Din Djarin really between your legs, helmet forgotten, or was this another dream?

He meandered, taking his time with you. When his breath coiled over your pubic mound your hips bucked. He chuckled, the sound almost foreign without the modulator in the way. Your breath hitched in your throat as his arms wrapped around your thighs, holding you down firmly in place. 

You whined, shivering as he kissed the junction of your pelvis and thigh. You could feel his smile against your skin. Maker, his smile. You trembled again, gasping out, “Don't tease me.” 

“Getting impatient?” He said back, tone light. Your thighs threatened to slam close around his head, his voice shaking you to your core. He laughed again, and then leaned in closer. “I've been waiting to taste you, senaar. Teach me.”

Your hands reached for him then, your skin on fire from his breath. Fingers pushed into his hair—curls—and pulled him closer to you. His tongue tentatively licked up through your folds and your back arched off the bed. You'd been waiting, too, you realized. You'd wanted this for a long time.

A soft hum came from the man and then without hesitation as you tugged on his hair, he ate you out like he was starving for it. Maybe he was. 

His right arm moved, releasing your thigh as he brought his fingers to your pussy, dipping a digit into your entrance. He licked small circles around your clit, an action that had you seeing stars. Your hand tightened its grip, and your moans increased in pitch. 

You could feel it rising within you, your orgasm threatening to break you with its growing intensity. He listened to every change in tone, every jerk of your body, repeating his patterns and inserting another finger. He curled them inside of you. Your body arched off the bed again. “Djarin!” 

“Again,” he growled. “Say it again.”

You did so, repeating his name like a prayer until you couldn't even think of anything else. All that was in that moment was him, his hips grinding into the bed in time with the thrusts of his fingers, his mouth sucking on your clit, his breath insanely hot against you. It was all too much. 

“Yes, yes! Right there!” 

“I want you to cum on my fingers, mesh’la. Want to taste—” 

Your thighs abruptly slammed closed around his head as your climax ripped through you, exploding inside your abdomen, causing your body to tighten over and over again as you shook. Liquid fire filled your veins and you felt like you couldn't get enough air into your lungs. You groaned his name as he worked you through it, pace slowing but not stopping. You could hear him talking, little words in Mando’a—mesh'la, kandosii’la, ner riduur. 

You didn't know what the words meant, but you craved them all the same. You scrambled to try and get away from him as the attention became too much, hissing through your teeth. 

“Nayc, mesh'la,” he asserted. “I'm not done.” 

You shivered as his arm grew tighter around you, holding you down. His fingers curled inside of you. Your body jerked in response, a high pitched whine dripping from your lips. Everything you could feel and hear in the dark was him, and Maker you wanted this to be how it was every night.

He laughed, a deep rumble from his chest that had you reeling. You had said the last part out loud. Your face burned. He licked a broad stripe over your folds and your insecurities were pushed away and out of your brain.

“Din, please,” you mumbled as your head lulled to the side. Another swipe of his tongue had you shaking, hips jerking against his hold. 

“Please? What do you want?” He asked as the hand you had in his hair slid down to caress his cheek. Din leaned into your touch. 

You swallowed, relaxing back into the bed. “I want you inside me.”

His head pulled away and you twitched when his lips pressed against your stomach. Climbing his way up to your chest, he kissed you every inch of the way and you reveled in the feeling of his powerful body sliding against you, of his lips on your skin. 

The Mandalorian’s mouth was hot on your nipple when he licked over it, his teeth experimental as they grazed over your breast. Your body arched into him and he eagerly began to suck on your nipples. Soft sounds escaped from your mouth, which seemed to encourage his tenacity. 

His mouth, after satisfied with both nipples, began to trail up to your neck, where he kissed up and across your jaw. You turned to meet him, your lips locking together in a surprisingly chaste kiss. He exhaled loudly and pulled back when you brushed your hips against the hard bulge of his flight suit. Your hand fell to his shoulder, the other entwining in his hair. 

“Will you fuck me, Din? Please?” You whispered into his ear. 

All Djarin could do was nod before pulling away completely. 

You heard a shuffle as he took off the last layer of clothing he had on. When he came back down and reached for you, you grabbed onto him and rolled you both over, until you were on top, legs straddling his hips. 

His hands slid up your thighs to your hips, where he gripped them firmly. You shuddered at the feeling of his hard cock pushing up against your core, and you rocked your hips against him. He huffed, his fingers tightening on your flesh. You repeated your movements, filled with delight and excitement when you heard him groan. 

“Mesh’la,” he gasped. “Please… want to be—”

You listened as he cut himself off with a gasp as you reached down, wrapping your hand around him and pumping several times. You continued to hold him against your folds, covering him in wetness. Din breathed hard, his body shaking under yours. When you were ready, you slid him inside of you. 

His whole body jerked under you as he hissed through his teeth. You let out a growl of satisfaction, feeling his hard and delicious length fill you up in every way you wanted. His grip was sure to bruise as he panted beneath you. Your hands came to rest on his chest and you tested the waters by shifting your hips slowly. 

Your hands tightened on him in return when you heard Din whine. You couldn't help your bodily reaction as your thighs squeezed his hips a little tighter. You were making him, the mighty Mandalorian, into nothing but a whimpering mess beneath you. Fire lit inside you, burning through your veins, and you leaned down, moving one of your hands up to his jaw, where you tilted his head up. You brushed over his lip with your thumb in the dark before you brought your lips to his. 

You rolled your hips, drinking down the sounds he gave to you with each rise and fall of your body. Your lips moved together as his hands moved and brushed up to your hips. He gave a gentle push and pull, diligently keeping time to your rhythm. You pulled away from the intimate kiss, before peppering kisses down his jaw and neck to his collarbone. You pulled yourself up and began to set a harder pace.

Djarin’s moan then was a deep and gravelly growl, his hands pushed you harder as he brought his own hips up, slamming into you unexpectedly. You pitched forward as his arms came up, wrapping around you and holding you tight to him. His mouth found your neck, placing wet and sloppy kisses over your skin. Your body jerked against him, a gasp dripping from your lips as he started to fuck you. 

He moaned softly against your skin, “So… tight… senaar.”

Your body tightened as his voice, thick with the fog of pleasure, washed over you. You quickly began to grind your hips down, meeting him thrust for thrust. His mouth came up the side of your neck until he found your earlobe. He gripped it gently with his teeth before tugging on it, which caused your body to jerk. You quickly became overwhelmed, trying to focus on shifting your body to keep up while he distracted you with his teeth and lips. He continued to breathe hard against you. 

Placing your hands on either side of him, you pushed against his grip. His arms fell away, and his pace slowed, letting you take back the control. You felt elated and ravenous, beginning to bounce up and down, hearing the slap of your skin against his. His name dripped from your lips and he jerked up in response. 

You could feel it rising within you, an impending orgasm being pulled from deep within your stomach. Your body began to tense, fluttering around his cock as your eyebrows furrowed. You moaned, loud and uncontrolled, as he shifted up against you once more. His hand reached up, moving to grab onto your breast as he sat up. He found your nipple with his mouth, sucking it eagerly, and then you were lost in the darkness. 

Your eyes slammed closed, brightly colored dots dancing in your vision. You felt yourself shake against him, your body twitching and jerking with each wave of your release. Din stilled, gasping and pressing you down onto him to prevent you from moving further. 

“Where can—senaar’ika—I can't—”

Through the trance of pure pleasure, you could see him holding back, waiting for you as best as he could, wanting to please you. You rocked your body forward and back, signaling to him as best you could without words. You felt too overwhelmed to speak. Within seconds, he was pushing in and out of you, your thighs a twitching mess, before burying himself as deep as he could. A strangled grunt dropped from his lips, a strained whimper of your name, and then he was twitching inside of you. 

You practically collapsed, body falling against his. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you off of his cock while keeping you pressed close to him. You both breathed hard in the dark and suddenly you felt like crying. You couldn’t remember the last time you had felt this safe. 

“Rest, cyar’ika,” he said to you, his breathing finally calmed. “I will be here when you wake.” 

You immediately felt comforted, curling even closer to him, and soon your eyes were closed, and you were drifting into sleep. You felt him settle down beneath you, both of you enveloped in the darkness, and basking in the presence of each other until you couldn't think anymore. 

[vesleezyon]

the hunter.

—aemond targaryen x original oc

just a snippet from the first chapter of my fic on ao3. literally in its fetal stages im writing the third chapter rn 😭

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

—takes place while Prince Aemond and Princess Viena are eleven, so just innocent fluff here :) plsssss lmk any opinions pleaseeee I wanna switch up the style to be more renaissance-ey but we will see

Preparations for the afternoon's feast are in full swing. The castle is crowded with lords and ladies from all corners of the realms, dressed in their best, smiling and greeting the Princeling as he rushes by them. Aemond gives them cordial nods and curt hello’s but nothing more, making his way to Viena’s room before Rhaenyra could sequester her away.

At last, he sees her. She turns the corner in a soft turquoise dress, adorned with flowers and hummingbirds beaded into the bodice, chiffon draping from her shoulders and skirt. Dainty, heart-shaped diamonds and delicate sapphires hang in her dark curls, pinning her braids into pretty little twists.

She scans the crowd and her eyes are led to him like a moth to flame. “Aemond!” She screams, breaking into a sprint, and he runs to meet her halfway. They throw themselves at each other, bursting into laughter as they nearly fall to the floor. “What’re you doing here?” She asks him, gently pulling away and taking his hand in hers.

“I was looking for you.” He answers plainly.

“Well, I’m not doing anything fun. My mother wants me to go out to the courtyard to listen to the music with my brothers.” She whines, rolling her eyes.

He chuckles. “Since when do you follow orders so easily?” Aemond challenges, but Viena looks over her shoulder and points to the two kingsguard following behind them.

“Since they’ve been babysitting me.” She says, looking back at Aemond. “I can’t do anything on my own anymore. And I used to sneak away sometimes, but I guess they’ve… adapted,” she shrugs, looking up to the lords and ladies as they greet her and Aemond. She gives them that pretty little smile, a polite nod, all the while squeezing on Aemond’s hand.

Aemond felt his heart flutter at her touch. “We’ll find a way.” He whispers, and she scoffs.

“I know we will. Just you wait. I have a surprise for you, remember?” Her eyes sparkled with mischief, and Aemond nods, soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“I haven’t forgotten, Princess. I have a surprise for you, too.” He says, watching her face light up with excitement.

“Really? What is it?” She asked eagerly, but he shook his head.

“I can’t tell you. But you’ll get it at dinner. I promise.” Despite her protests, some of the lords caught her attention as they pass and greet her, quickly distracting her.

Oh, Viena. She shone like a star among these nobles, her charming smile and that enchanting spirit making her a cherished little delight, just as her mother was at her age.

Hand in hand, giggling and whispering to one another, Viena led Aemond into the courtyard. The music is loud and lively, Viena skipping her steps in rhythm as they bounce down the steps. The courtyard was a riot with color and sound, the bands playing cheerful melodies as the nobles chatter loudly over each other.

Viena’s laughter is infectious. The expectations to be prim and proper were forgotten in her presence. They spent their day lounging in the shade, playfully pushing and pulling on each other and calling it dance, screaming with laughter while they weave through nobles and play chase. Together, they’re more than Prince and Princess. They’re children.

As the golden hues of the afternoon rolled in, the servants wove through the crowds ringing the dinner bells. Aemond and Viena sit knee to knee, seeking refuge from the summer sun under the leafy embrace of a bushy oak tree. They share a shortcake between them, gossiping and giggling with each other quietly. Despite the crowds of people surrounding them, they felt alone in their own little world.

Their solitude was serene until Jacaerys and little Luke found them, insisting they come in for dinner. Jace pulls her up off the grass and, despite her whining and dragging her feet, coaxes all the children inside.

Still brimming with energy, Viena squeezes Aemond’s hand while chattering all the way. And he listens with a smile and occasional laugh, because despite talking about nothing particularly interesting, he delighted in hearing her voice. To him, she sounds like the morning birds that woke him, with the gentle coo of dragons woven into her tone. She was the sound of home.

Their family waits for them near the entrance to the ballroom. Viserys, already tipsy and wobbling on his feet, beamed with pride as his little grandchildren round the corner. Viena let out a joyous scream, releasing Aemond’s hand and sprinting into Viserys’ arms.

The King let out a hearty chuckle as he wrapped his arms around her. “There’s my devilish little girl,” he says, giving her a warm squeeze before pulling back to look at her. “You look lovely. The little belle of the ball. Did you choose this dress, Rhaenyra? Such exquisite beading-“ He goes on, turning his attention to Rhaenyra.

Aemond, ignoring his mother’s watchful eye, grasps Viena’s hands and guides her into their proper place, front and center. They enter together, sit together, and leave together. It’s assumed that, despite the hardships, they’d spend their lives together as well.

Aemond reaches into the pocket of his tunic and pulls out a small, decorated wooden box. The craftsmanship is simple yet delicate, the shapes of dragons and fires carved into the wood. “I have your surprise,” he whispers, offering her the gift. “Happy early name-day, Princess.” He said with a tender smile.

Viena tilts her head at him and her eyes soften. She releases his hand and takes the box, giggling as she carefully unlatches the top. When she opened it, her giggles halted, replaced with a sharp gasp and a face glowing with delight. “Oh my—Aemond! Where did you get this?!” She screams, pulling the necklace out of the box with a gentle hand. Sapphire teardrops hang from a silver chain, the gems glimmering in the evening lights.

“It was made for you.” He says, trying to maintain a stoic and nonchalant demeanor but failing as a wide grin spreads across his face. Her joy is more contagious than a plague, and she hopped from foot to foot, bubbling with glee. “I made the box myself. You’ve always got all this jewelry scattered around and-”

Before he could finish, Viena tossed herself at him, cutting him off with a burst of laughter. “I love it! The necklace, the box, all of it,” she gushed, wrapping her arms around his neck and squeezing him.

Aemond holds her gently, his heart swelling with pride. He knew she’d adore it. Who knows sweet Viena better than he does, after all? “I’m glad you do.” He murmured.

Viena pulled away from him, a bright smile glowing on her lips as she held the necklace out to him. “Can you help me put it on?” She asks.

His body softens. He nods, “Of course.” He says, taking the necklace from her. She turns and pulls her curls into her hands, careful not to ruin her braids as he gently fastens the chain around her neck. Then, he wraps his hands around her wrists and watches her hair fall down her back, heart shaped diamonds glimmering like stars in the darkness.

Viena touched the necklace with a certain softness that made Aemond’s heart flutter. “Does my hair still look okay?” She asks, looking over her shoulder to meet his soft eyes.

Aemond’s eyes fall back to those curls, the braids, the sapphire pins and heart-shaped diamonds. Doesn’t she realize? “It looks perfect, Vi.” No part of her would ever look any less than flawless in his eyes.

Her smile widens. “Thank you.” She says, turning to face the doors again. “I really do love them.” She tells him, her hand finding its proper place in his again.

She deserves nothing less, Aemond thought, but before he could voice the sentiment, Alicent laid her hands over her son's shoulders. She whispers to the children that it’s time for them to be announced, asks if they’re ready, to which they both eagerly nod.

The lords and ladies of Westeros have found much joy in watching the young royals grow up together. Aemond’s modest and courteous demeanor lent him a certain charm, especially when his cradle-mate who, in her spirited exuberance, flits about like a little bird, stirring delightful disorder wherever she graces.

Together, they’re harmoniously leveled. They’re the sun and moon locked into a celestial dance, the oceans and earth united in a timeless waltz, ice and fire congealing into a magnificent spectacle, one soul reborn and split in time by just one day. The grand doors swing open before them, a respectful hush falling over the dinner guests. The herald’s voice rips through the crowd, announcing their names with a tone of reverence. Prince Aemond Targaryen, and Princess Viena Velaryon.

Even as the names of their esteemed family were proclaimed, all eyes were on them. Viena squeezes his hand, lingering close to him. The whispers around them fade into nothing as Viena leans into his ear, forging a path through the throngs of nobility.

“Did you see how drunk Aegon was already? Such a slob. I meant it when I said he’s a pig.” She whispers lowly, forcing Aemond to betray his stoic expression and giggle as they make their way to the great table.

“Shut up, Vi.” He mutters back, trying to maintain his composure.

“What? I’m just saying. He’s probably drunk more than a braavosi sea lord already.” She whispers, her tone playful, “And my mother worries about me embarrassing the family. Unbelievable.” She scoffs, lifting her dress slightly to follow him up the steps.

Aemond’s grin widens. Some call her mean and nasty-mouthed but Aemond thinks she’s honest. She tells the truth as it is, a trait he’s found hard to find in anyone but her. Her irreverence has always had a strange way of lightening his mood, reminding him he isn’t alone in this world.

They take their seats at the center of the table, side by side. Viena’s quiet whispers, telling him her every thought and observation, granted a sense of comfortability to the grand occasion. In a room full of people watching him, she still managed to make him feel like they were hidden away in their own corner of paradise.

The room was alive with laughter and chatter as the music swells into soft, smoother rhythms as the night wore on. Meals filled with exotic foods were served, as well as simpler dishes the children could stomach a bit easier. Viena and Aemond got to sip an expensive wine, which made the Princess especially giggly.

After their fifth course of desert, Viena and Aemond excused themselves to dance, running off before Alicent or Rhaenyra could tell them no. They sprinted and jump down the steps, their laughter echoing through the room as joined the nobles swaying on the floor below.

They lock hands and jump and spin, playing more than dancing. They apologize gently as they bump into lords and their ladies as they sway on the dance floor. Their mothers could never guess where those two get all the energy from, but if they were honest, it’s a relief to see them choose youth over duty. It’s a luxury many children in this family aren’t granted.

Viena leans in close to his ear. “We’ve got to go now. They’re not watching. Come on.” She whispers urgently. Without waiting for a response, she grabbed his hand and dove into the crowd, running past the exit and slipping into the servants’ passage without being spotted.

She’s always so quick to disappear. Her insatiable desire for adventure is the root of all her trouble, he thinks. Mayhaps the root of all his, too. It doesn’t matter. He jogs to keep up with her as she pulls him through the narrow corridor.

“Where are we going?” He asks.

“It’s my surprise for you.” She answers, navigating the winding corridors with ease. “Did you think I forgot?” She asks.

Viena leads him down all kinds of steps, all kinds of twisting turns and winding passages that easily scramble his sense of direction. These tunnels are dark and damp, save for a few torches hanging here and there, but Viena acts like she’s running through the lines of her palm. She’s ecstatic, bouncing and skipping, brimming with energy as Aemond struggled to keep pace.

“Okay, we’re close.” She whispers, turning to him as the corridor opens into a cave. “Cover your eyes.” She says, walking backwards and releasing his hands. She’s smiling ear to ear, biting her lip, and the sapphires on her neck glimmer in the soft torchlight. He chuckles and covers his eyes with his palms, hearing her giggle and hop behind him, resting her hands on his shoulders and guiding him through the cave.

Slowly, he began to hear the crashing of waves against the rocky mountainside, then the stone give way to sand under his shoes. “Where are we, Vi?” He asks, curiosity piqued. She giggles and pushes him a bit faster.

“Not yet! Don’t look yet!” She exclaims. She brings him out onto the sand, the cool night air hitting his face with a soft chill. He could smell the salty sea from where he stood, furrowing his brows as he listened to Viena run to stand in front of him.

She tilts his head upwards towards the sky. He hears her shuffle in the sand, then sigh with contentment. “Now open your eyes,” She says.

Aemond removed his hands, going still as he stared up at the sky above him. The heavens stretched out above them, laying out an intricate kaleidoscope of stars, their lights shining against the inky darkness. The moon, full and luminous, casts a silver glow onto the waves and leaves its reflection dancing with the water's wake.

“Vi… this place is…” he trails off, realizing he didn’t have the words to tell her how beautiful this is. His vocabulary simply was large enough to capture the wonder he felt.

“I dreamt of it. That I was here with you.” She says, watching the stars fade in and out between the soft clouds. “I didn’t want to come looking for it without you.” She skips ahead of him, kicking her shoes off.

His eyes fall to the back of her head. Diamonds hang in her curls like heart-shaped stars, sparkling in hues of pink and blue as she kicks off her shoes and sinks her toes into the soft sand, staring up to marvel at the night sky. She never knew the night could have so many colors, gems of blue and brilliant white painting the sky above them.

“The stars almost look like sapphires,” he says, following her out onto the beach, tearing his gaze away from her to look at the stars.

She giggles and nods. “They do, don’t they? It’s so beautiful. Please tell me you like it.” she pleads, turning to him with eyes large as the moon.

He looks down at her with a softness that only she could pry from him. “I love it, Viena.” He tells her earnestly, watching her grin grow with satisfaction.

“I’m glad.” She replies. “Happy late name-day, Aemond.”

He stares at her as she turns to the ocean, lifting her satin dress above her knees and pressing her bare feet into the wet sand, her shoulders shivering as the cold sea rises to tickle her toes.

Her curious eyes follow the tiny fish and tadpoles fleeing through the shallow water, wiggling her toes to startle them when they’d get close. She’s adorable, making him smile as he inches closer to the water’s edge.

“Do you remember the stories I used to tell you about the constellations?” He asks, watching her nod as she curiously wades deeper into the salty sea, the water now lapping at her bony ankles. “Do you remember the Hunter?”

She looks aimlessly up to the sky, drawing in a sharp gasp. “Can you see it!? Oh, you have to show me! Show me!” She squeals, jumping back to the shoreline and standing with him.

He looks down at her with a grin, holding her shoulders and turning her away from him. He took her hand and told her to stick her pointer finger out, listening to her laugh as he guided her to point up at a row of three bright stars.

“See those three in a row? That’s his belt.” He says, and knows she’s seen it once she gasps.

“Where’s the rest of him?” She asks.

Aemond slowly guides her finger to trace the three stars. “Follow the line of his belt, Princess. To the left is his arm holding the bow, to the right his other arm is drawn back, ready to release.” He softly explains, her big brown eyes following her finger, tracing the stars, grinning ear to ear.

A silence lingers between them as Viena slowly outlines the constellation, finding his head and legs on her own. She holds his hand at her side, too distracted with the stars to notice him staring at her.

Devilish Princess Viena. She’s more beautiful than a hundred starry skies. Without her, this cove would be a desolate and lonely spot with no worth to him. Such sentiments, he knew, would fall short on her innocent ears. His mother would say he’s too young to harbor such thoughts, but he couldn't help it. He cannot control his emotions no matter how he battles them.

He couldn’t tell how long they spent there. Long enough that by the time they returned, the party was long over and the guards were scouring the castle for the Prince and Princess. She’d tried to sneak as much as she could, but Ser Harwin stopped them as they crossed a hallway trying to slip into the servant’s passage.

Before Harwin could take her away, Viena reached her hands into her hair and pulled a heart shaped diamond from her bed of dark curls. A section of hair came loose, falling over the side of her cheek. “Here.” She offered, holding the thin hair pin out to him. “Happy late name-day, Aemond. I’m sorry it’s not the best.” She says.

Gently, he took the hair pin from her. The edges of the diamond turn pink and blue in the soft candlelight. Ser Harwin rested his hand on her shoulder, making her turn her head to him before Aemond could catch her eye.

He watched the diamonds and sapphires glimmer between her dark curls, clutching her gift tightly in his fist. “I like it, Vi. Happy early name-day.” He returned, and she turned back to him as Ser Harwin began to pull her off. She gave him a smile and reached her fist out to him. He touched their knuckles and earned her giggles.

“Tomorrow, my Prince.” She bidded, yawning as Ser Harwin hoisted the small girl into his arms.

“Tomorrow, Princess.” He replied.

Nobody came to retrieve Aemond and guide him to his room. No one ever does, and he figures that’s okay, because he’d never run off like Viena would. She needs it more than he does, of course.

[sircantus]

Hi! Do you have a beta for your fics? Or do you just release them into the wild without outside feedback first?

Oh yeahh no i just straight up post my chapters with only myself as my own proofreader. No beta i die like cwilbur. A while back i think?? I used to ask for people to look over my writing? Like as i was still making the chapters i would tweet “would anyone like to look over this i cant tell if its good” and if they said yet i instantly sent them a google doc. But im really impatient and i have to usually post my things the second they are done so thats why i didnt always bother with the feedback as i made it

Technically im now on a posting schedule so i could theoretically get a proper beta reader now but like. I fear being perceived in the proximity of my google doc

[writingwithfolklore]

Your Beta Readers are Always Right

              That’s not to say that you take every single recommendation or piece of feedback that they give you, but rather that you shouldn’t argue with your beta readers. They are always correct, because they will (should) always give you their honest thoughts and interpretations of your work. To call them wrong would be to call them lying… And unless you’ve run into a super evil beta reader who is trying to discourage you through lying about what they think of your work, why would they lie to you?

              If one beta reader hates your work but five others love it, that’s not to say that one person is wrong. This is data. No matter what you or others say, that beta reader’s feedback still stands on its own. It says, maybe this book isn’t for everyone—if I was the writer, would I address this? No, because no work is going to please everyone, and 5/6 is pretty good.

              If someone thinks your MC is annoying (and they aren’t meant to be)—that’s what they honestly and truly think. It’s your job to decide if that’s an issue you’re going to address or not. If 9/10 people say that, maybe that’s a good hint that you should go back in.

              I’ve given feedback that has caused people to explain specific parts of their work to me as if to say, “no—because look at this.” I’ve read the same thing they’re giving me—I still think what I originally thought. I wasn’t lying, and I’m not going to think differently from reading the same thing twice. Does that mean they always have to take my notes? Absolutely not—it’s up to them to decide whether the problem that I see is worth addressing. Just because I might put down a book for some reason, doesn’t mean that everyone would, and doesn’t mean that the book needs to cater to what exactly I like.

              I hope this makes sense! What’s the most helpful note a beta reader has ever given you?

[northern-passage]

i've been thinking a lot about the word "representation" and what it means and how it's changed over the last few years, particularly when it comes to the writing/publishing landscape but also in movies and tv shows… and i really don't like it anymore. to be clear, of course i think it's important to have diversity in your work, i'm not saying i hate the concept of representation. but i do really dislike the way it's used now, and i really just hate the word itself

in a broader sense it's just become a marketing tool. i'm not impressed by any publisher or author who just describes their book by listing all of the minorities/identities the characters represent as if that should be enough. it feels very gross, very exploitative and disingenuous. it also really bothers me because it's always marginalized identities- which i understand Why, but it feels very othering to me (and again. Very exploitative as an advertisement). you would never list out "cishet able-bodied white man" as a character description to pat yourself on the back over. so why do it to everyone else? why insinuate that one is the "default" and the other one is "special"? (and when i say this i'm mainly talking about advertisements/marketing. i understand why people would specify about characters in descriptions with the plot, but i don't like to see an ad that's just "this book has gay people!" with nothing else)

which then leads me to my other point, which is that a lot of people treat "representation" as if it's "too hard." like "oh i don't know enough to write about that, i don't have that experience, etc" which is a fair way to feel! however… it's weird that people only say this about writing trans characters or characters of color. i'm writing a story right now with a character who is really into motorcycles. i personally do not know that much about motorcycles, so i researched what parts are what & what different kinds of models there are & what basic bike care looks like. i guarantee Most people will have to google something at some point in their writing process. so what's the problem? it also, again, feels very othering when authors treat certain groups of people as "impossible" to write, "too hard" to understand. they are just.. people. you write them as a person. and then you figure out the rest later.

and i think part of the refusal or fear to write something outside of your experience is because of the way representation is treated as So Special. these characters are So Special that they aren't allowed to be anything other than "representation." they're Not allowed to be characters with complex emotions and interesting motivations, they have to just be Trans or Gay or Disabled or whatever. they're not allowed to be people. which means, at the end of the day, we loop right back around to where we were at the start….

there is bad representation. there are depictions of certain marginalized people that are harmful and that are damaging, i'm not trying to minimize that or argue against it at all, in fact we should all be mindful of that while writing and reading. but i also think it's possible to swing too far in the opposite direction as well and put certain groups of people on a pedestal and not allow them to do anything at all but be Perfect Representation, if that makes sense.

[prinvessdior]

okay I decided to upload the first chapter here but please head to here for full updates :3!

CW: mentioned panic attack/ anxiety lots of it. Mentioned gun (never used) panicking. Kinda a bitchy bitch? Idk

(Y/n) wakes up in her new home headed to school. (Y/n) can’t help but click on an early morning live stream of the ninja. She keeps watching one specifically though. Weird things happen..

My alarm screaming at the crack of dawn is something I thought I should be used to by now. It apparently was not as I rolled over, burrito-fied in my blankets. Blindly reaching for my blaring phone I haphazardly press around on the screen. The alarm shuts off and I groan rubbing the sleep out of my bleary eyes.

The early morning sun casts a sheen of yellowish orange across the expanse of my room. Given it wasn’t really a room yet. Boxes stacked and filled the corners of my room, remnants of what I had left to unpack. A soft knock on my door has me (begrudgingly) sitting up.

My dad pops his head in through my door after I mumble a sleepy, “Come in.”

His black curls bounce as he swivels his head to find me still in bed. “Mornin’ babygirl.” He affectionately greets sending me a soft smile when I catch his gaze. I yawn holding a hand over my mouth to cover my manners and the noise.

“Morning Dad.” I pull the covers over my body once again the winter air sneaking in from my bedroom window when Dad cracks it open.

In his hand is a plate stacked with pancakes, eggs and bacon I hum happily as the smells wafts when he sets the plate on the table next to my bed. The only thing I bothered to unpack.

“Big day! Being the new girl is gonna be a lot, especially you so a special breakfast for my favorite daughter.”

I smiled tiredly, “But I’m your only daughter?” I reminded with a frown, he frowns taking a seat at the foot of my bed.

“Whatever.”

Dad digs in the pockets of his pink sleeping robe, I snort to myself that he’s still sleeping with that thing. I could vaguely make out the sound of something jingling.

He presented me with a set of car keys, blown wide awake I threw my covers off I started at dad wide eyed. “Hiram says since its your last year of high school, and almost an official adult, that you deserved some freedom.”

My smile grew in size, I all but snatched the keys throwing my arms around Dad, “Dad! Thankyouthankyou I’ll call dad after school and thank him too!” He chuckled returning my attack of a hug with one arm his free hand ruffling my hair.

I pulled away to inspect the keys closer, turning them over in my hand a few times. Oh! I’d seen these before!

“Oh God this is the car Mr. Cyrus gifted to dad right?” I asked remembering way back when Dad was first starting his school Mr. Cyrus Borg had donated a lot of cash to get it started, I can remember Dad repaying him with his own class at the school and dad got a car out of it, cool.

Dad nodded standing up, “Yeah, so don’t break it.” I huffed rolling my eyes.

“Eat up princess, I’m riding along I need the car for work. Regroup in twenty.” Dad gave me a goofy salute, leaving me alone in my half unpacked room once again.

Humming a song I stood from my bed, first order of business was to take care of the rats nest on my head. I opened the door that connected my bathroom to my room, which by the way, so cool! Back in the village all the home’s layouts had been exactly the same, copy and paste. It was a nice change, what can I say I am a simple girl.

I had only managed to fully unpack the bathroom. Kicking an emptied box out of my way, assessing my appearance in the mirror. Huffing, I quickly slid a brush through my hair securing it into a low ponytail with one too many hair ties, I brushed my teeth.

Next on the agenda was Dads “special new girl breakfast”. Bounding on my bed taking my phone along with me, unplugging it from the charger. I ate in semi-silence as I scrolled through social media. I flicked through friends from private school seeing some girls I used to preform with preparing to go on vacation for winter break. There was the usual news, weather, and people posting their mornings on their stories.

An account I had followed years ago piqued my interest. The twitter account; a Secret Ninja force fan account specifically. Awhile ago when Hiram’s college first opened I remember Dad telling me about how it’d been attacked by..

I squinted at my phone as if the fan account would help me remember.

Whatever it was years ago anyways I was barley thirteen I think. Sighing thumb hovering over the notification at the top of my phone. The account was livestreaming.

“Early Morning skirmish with the Ninja!!”

Sure, an enthusiastic title, seemed like they had been live for awhile. I glanced to the time on my phone.

‘Who goes live at 6:32 in the morning’

About to scroll, I needed to be getting dressed for school anyways. I was still in my pajamas for gods sake. I had to pack my school bag, I barley had seven minutes to get dressed and meet dad outside, wanted to test drive my new baby too, I frowned.

I clicked on the livestream.

The footage was grainy at best, camera flying between each of the ninja. The ninja themselves were gathered around a group of people, I couldn’t tell the gender of the people they seemed to be deescalating a robbery situation. There was a lot of noise the audio was choppy and shitty too, barley registering what was being said.

This “fan account” sure had a shitty phone

I thought to myself as the commotion grew louder.

The cameraman tilting to an angle possibly hiding behind something as they continued to film. There were just enough context clues for me to discern the robbers had guns. I placed a hand over my mouth, suddenly remembering that this was real. A live stream happening somewhere across ninjago city.

Oh shit.

In my momentary anxiety attack, noises of fighting was enough for me to nervously glance back down to my phone. From what I could tell there was an eruption of color. So much so I had to turn away from my phone and shield my eyes, too bright even through a screen. The colors dissipated and assuming the streamer started explaining the whole ordeal. The teen’s voice yelled about how the Water and Green ninja had disarmed the robbers of their guns. The camera quickly switched away from the ninja as police sirens approached making it hard to hear again, the teen continued to yap praises for the ninja.

My gaze flicked over his shoulder to the aftermath, I could barley make out the green one with the robbers apprehended in tow making his way to the approaching police. I clicked off the stream my phone falling to rest on my stomach.

“Woah.”

Dad yelled my name from somewhere downstairs and I shot up from bed still clad in my pajamas.

“Shit!”

▪︎☆▪︎☆▪︎☆▪︎☆▪︎☆▪︎

Three minutes was the fastest I’d ever gotten dressed I think. After hastily throwing on a light pink sweater, over my pj shorts I put on some thick winter leggings. Grabbing my phone I hovered over the sleep button gnawing on my bottom lip, overthinking. It was really weird how I’d went completely braindead not thinking before doing something.

What.. what was I doing before clicking on that livestream? I held a hand to my head wincing from a sudden oncoming headache.

Dad called my name louder this time, “C’mon babygirl! We’re gonna run late!”

“Coming!”

Breaking out of my overthinking with a shake of my head ridding the ache with it. I plucked my favorite winter jacket that sat atop a few boxes of clothes. I grimaced at all the unpacking I still have to do. Sliding the pink-inner-woolen fabric over my arms and zipping it all the way, I slid my phone into my pocket zipping that up too. I snatched my shiny new car keys off the bedside table along with my schoolbag lazily thrown over my shoulder and left my semi-room.

Hopping two steps at a time I met dad by the door; he was looking down at me then back to his watch.

“Twenty-seven minutes, seriously?”

I nodded even more serious, “Seriously, takes a lot to look this good.”

Dad snorted and rolled his eyes, holding the front door open for me. I grinned walking out into the chilly early morning air. Seriously Dad told me how cold the city gets in winter but seriously?

Fumbling to retrieve the keys with half frozen fingers, my grin grew as we approached the silver SUV. Sure, it was a soccer mom car but a car nonetheless.

Sliding into the drivers side I hurriedly turned the ignition over desperate for the warm air. Dad entered a few seconds after I threw my bag with my phone inside, Its better out of sight while I’m driving anyways, to the backseats. Dad takes control of the radio as I back out of the driveway.

Whatever song spills softly from the cars speakers as I pulled to the main city road. Dad nudges my arm to grab my attention I hum in query.

“Did you grab your sheet music?” he asked

I groaned hitting the side of the steering wheel. I had completely forgotten about it, I meant to pack it before I got dressed but well.. plus, wouldn’t the kids think it’s weird if I’m walking around school with oldie sheet music? I grew up singing, dad says I was born with a Tony Award in my chubby baby hands. Hell, Hiram has a school on our shared musical expertise.

“I.. forgot.”

Hoping that was the best answer, Especially because I didn’t want dad to know my thought about his oldie music it’d hurt his feelings if I voiced my feelings about it being weird.

Dad brushes it off, “I’ll remind you tomorrow.” I release an anxious breath. Fingers tapping on the wheel as we paused at a red light.

“Anyway, Hiram has a new assistant.” Dad finger quotes the word assistant “Basically this kid found out about Hiram’s daughter was transferring to ninjago high. She emailed for months begging Hiram to offer her help.”

I nodded half listening, “So dad got me a friend? Peachy..” I muttered with a gritted smile sinking down into the seat as a newfound bubble of anxiety enclosed itself around my head.

I sighed through my nose stepping on the gas once the light flicked to green once again. The song switch to ‘Walking on Sunshine.’

Nope. Not very sunshiny.

▪︎☆▪︎☆▪︎☆▪︎☆▪︎☆▪︎

LeRoy stole my baby, my silver suv baby that I’d only known for fifteen minutes but my point still stands. Dad told me Hiram’s “assistant”’s name was actually Sapphire, pretty like the stone. He then sped away blasting some musical soundtrack I couldn’t quite catch. Leaving me to turn and face my impending doom.

I stood dumbly on the bottom of the stairs. Watching as groups of students and loners pass me. Some would give me weird looks as they did. I would too, seeing a new kid standing like an idiot at the bottom of the steps in forty degree cold.

Before I could gather my thoughts and stop the oncoming panic attack. Someone approaches me calling out my name I snap my blurry vision up to the feminine voice. The girl looked no older than me, I tilted my head confused but thankful she broke me out of my panic.

“Uh— yeah that’s me.” God. Why’d I sound so small.

The girl smiles down at me from her elevated height on the stairs. At this angle I was able to see her bleached, maybe too bleached blonde hair. Dark jet black roots poking back out from the dye job.

Bad dye job girl had on pure white earmuffs, her whole outfit was white actually. Save for the light gold puffer jacket she wore. My gaze flicked to my own jacket, my favorite jacket. Mine definitely was cheaper and I remember saving up for at least a month. I’d spent a pretty penny on it, bad dye job girl was pretty too I guess.

“Hey! I’m Sapphire!” the fake blonde smiled bigger though it wavered at the corners, she outstretched her hand to mine.

I smiled too, putting my hand in hers. “Hi! It’s so nice to meet you! I’m so sorry I feel so bad my dads dumped me on you.” We shook before releasing hands, she pulled hers back quicker than I expected. Students stopped whispering and staring too I noticed.

Sapphire shrugs, “It’s not a big deal especially for that– oh let me see your chart.” She cleared her throat and I fished my phone from my jackets pocket. Pulling up a screenshot of my classes. Sapphire’s mittenened hand all but snatched my phone. She made a noise I couldn’t decipher and tossed the phone back.

I fumbled to catch it.

We made our way into the school, through the front doors. Sapphire toured me around the school. It was humorous how huge this place was. It had every room a school could need, even actual locker rooms with stalls. Surely gym wouldn’t be so bad then.

Sapphire asked, well demanded for my phone again, I complied. I watched as she put her phone number in my contacts, swiping out her own phone. She message me a map of the school, this time handing my phone back to me.

Maybe she’s just antisocial.

I wondered as bad dye job girl ranted on about the school, I was only half listening. She asked about Hiram’s school and I had to tune myself back in. I tried my best to answer all of her, really creepily detailed questions but the lack of information seemed to ignore her as she pulled a face.

Yeah. Total personality switch.

I grimaced.

As we walked I had to pause to look around the school. Circling back to the school being huge, Yeah it was massive. Multiple buildings for everything almost, one of the three story buildings was just a library in itself! Maybe I could rot away to study there. All the buildings connected so we didn’t have to track back outside to the cold and I got to bask in the heat of the hallways.

“So, do you do anything with music like your dads?” Sapphire asked after she was finished talking about herself, how we got to talking only about her I had no clue.

I nodded anyway.

“Yeah, Dads had me classically trained for singing ever since I was able to hold a note. I play some instruments too.” I explained a relaxed, easier smile growing. All that panic from before harmoniously melting away as I spoke of my favorite thing, what I grew up with.

Sapphire nodded satisfied with my answer this time. Sapphire stopped suddenly and so did I. She gestured to the door which was my first class for the day before she spoke again.

“You should join the choir, we had some weirdos drop out. So we need people to hum and sway in the background or whatever.” She seemed uninterested. Her suggestion didn’t seem like a question.

Shitshitshit

She tossed her bleached hair over her shoulder, turning her hand palm down to inspect her nails. I shifted awkwardly on my feet anxiously tapping the heel of my foot into the ceramic floor. Anxiety please you’re not actually being put on the spot. But.. what answer would she prefer? I didn’t mind being in the back of the choir, I came back to the city to be successful on my own without anyone else’s help, not even dads.

Sapphire’s obstinate blue gaze jumped to mine and I stumbled over my words gasping out any response.

“Fun!! Or Uh- sounds fun yeah I’ll join!”

An even more awkward smile spread across my lips. I spat out a yes befofe I could really even think about it. What is with it with me and spontaneity today??god so stupid.

Sapphire however, seemed to enjoy my response as an amused smile rose to her mouth. “Great! We get together on Friday’s after school.”

A bell ringing pulled us out of the awkward conversation, ha saved by the bell. Sapphire sighed stepping back

“I’ll see you later, shoot me a text if there’s any trouble.” She called out a few feet away, bidding me goodbye with an almost princess-esqe wave.

I returned the wave with the best smile I could muster. As she turned a corner my smile fell.

Aren’t choirs supposed to have auditions for newcomers?

My hand fell down to my side as I mentally slapped myself I wanted to scream.

The damn sheet music!!

[inbeesinblood]

Working on original story spinoff of TMA that takes places in the Usher Foundation, the canonical American branch of the Magnus institute….technically a ff bc it takes place in universe. It’s written in script format and I will be recording the stories lol. I’ve written ep1 but I need some beta readers before I record it. I have friends who will be playing various characters. I excited about this dumb fan project